#the sound quality was also off which bugged me only a little bit

[childofwonder]

I watched Cougars Inc. If i had a nickel for every time kyle gallner was in a milf centric romcom, I’d have two nickels…

[shinygoku]

Please Please Me (1963)

Part 1 in the CutCat Reviews Beatles Albums series, and what better place to start than the beginning?

Dang... they were sure Baby Bugs back then!

I ain't yet listened to every song on this here album, so this'll be interesting and strangely new, haha (Though I should disclaim that I'll be listening to the highest quality versions I can find on YT, so some will be innately more advantaged than others)

SIDE ONE

I Saw Her Standing There: One, Two, Three, FAUWH!! While part'a me raises eyebrows at "Well she was just 17, and you know what I mean" part (which is also somewhat mitigated by their own youth at the time! lol), the rest is such a fun, high energy bit of Rock n Roll that I enjoy this quite a bit, and it makes a great energetic opening to the album to boot!

Misery: A sad song set to jaunty music, if I didn't understand English I'd prolly miss that detail XD - Though I defo prefer said upbeat instrumentations to the otherwise kind of stock breakup song

Anna (Go To Him): Ahh, our first cover! Not keen on their harmonies here, something sounds Off. The song itself is fine, but as they didn't write it I won't be going into much about the words :P

Chains: Harmonica! Another cover so I'm gonna skip the lyrics, but the instruments and harmonies are on good display here~ I'm sorry to say I didn't notice it was George on vocals until I checked though, sorry! ^^;;

Boys: Ringo's turn with a cover!! He puts a lotta energy into this, and I like that they didn't change it to Girls or something instead lmao - His range works well for this, there's great guitar and Paul screaming in the background too, but the lyrics themselves don't stick in my mind much, it seems to be mostly "Talk about Boys, [Yeah Yeah Boys]"

Ask Me Why: We leave the sea of Covers for this side, for a lot of stringing out single words lmao, it kinda feels like an inverse of Misery, being much lower key but being Glad, though again the lyrics ain't really making a strong impression on my memory so when I get to the next side I doubt I'll be able to recall it well

Please Please Me: NOW WE'RE TALKING, BAYBEE! The words may be cheeky and arguably shallow, but it's got such energy and rhythm that I really do feel motivated to stand and move in response! The instruments all do a strong job here, and I think I actually first heard this as an instrumental and knew I needed to check it out more lmao. I can't think why Love Me Do got the #1 and this didn't, man!!

SIDE TWO

Love Me Do: I do not care for this song! Objectively it has a lovely bass, nice steady drums and impressive harmonica. But URGHHHH I cannot stick the vocals saying such inane, repetitive words! I feel like this is the only Beatles song that Beatle Haters hear, and form their entire opinion on. I can't fathom how it reached a #1 slot, other than it having been an exceedingly slow period for Tunes, or maybe the mouth organ really WAS that novel?! But when playing the Number Ones CD I always, always skip it, and even the newest version with the Now and Then release fails to win me over. And Ringo ain't even the drummer here!!

P.S. I Love You: Really benefits from following LMD, lmaoooo. It's a nice little tune with some instrument I can't identify (castanets?). I feel like From Me To You kinda does the long distance thing better, but there's a nice rhythm and harmonies that make this pleasing. It's also not Ringo drumming, again - no offence to Andy White, but y'ain't one'a the Lads! :T

Baby It's You: We're back in the Cover Realm. This song is nice. When I first heard the "Cheat" I thought they were saying "Shit" though, which I think woulda made it better XD ...15 mins after listening to it I have no memory of how it sounds :v

Do You Want To Know A Secret: In original and George territory! Gotta say the "secret" was extremely predictable :P The music is perfectly nice, but it doesn't strike me as Beatles Standard, ya know? That applies to a fair few on this album, not just this, but it's now that I really Am Thinking it ^^;;;

A Taste Of Honey: Cover! Less to say! They do good! When I listen to it my brain tries turning it more into a meme song, like it goes "A taste of Honey! Tasty!!", so idk what that says about the song itself but it's not the most glowing of reviews lmao

There's A Place: Ahh, the last Original on this album~ Sounds oddly modern in the sense of maladaptive daydreaming...! They really WERE ahead of the time (or having a Mind Palace is old as Hunter Gatherers maybe, both work lol). It's another inoffensive but hard to really talk about number, musically.

Twist And Shout: I've been pretty Cool to all the covers here, but this is quite the exception, and OOOOH IT'S SO RAAAAW (Infamously so, we all know John had to save this one for last as it shredded his vocal chords somewhat!). Another one that actually makes me Move, which is impressive, and it closes the Album on a very strong note~

CONCLUSION

Best 3: I Saw Her Standing There, Please Please Me, Twist And Shout

Blurst 3: Love Me Do, Anna (Go To Him), Baby It's You. [To be honest I kinda wanna put LMD here three times instead, but myeah]

Overall Quality?: It's Decent! In the context of it being their debut album, it's more impressive, but knowing how much the songwriting and music would develop does rather cast this in a long shadow. My 3 faves here are also the only ones* that got Red Album remasterings by the looks of it, and I sure see why they were chosen over the rest (*Though Love Me Do's omnipresence baffles me!)

🪲🪲🪲🪲

Neeext Time on my Bug Music reviews, we shall be With The Beatles ;3c

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 5th September

Yup, school is fully back, and we're back too, with an artist and a song that are both completely unfamiliar to me, but that honestly sound like something you might see in the charts today. Will this song sound fabulous? Only one way to find out...

Fabulous - Charlie Gracie (peaked at Number 8)

Born Charles Graci into an Italian-American family, Charlie Gracie seems to be another of those mostly-forgotten clean-cut, family-friendly kncok-off-rock-and-rollers. The sound is hip and cool, but not as hard-edged as some other things we've heard, with a definite poppy vibe to it.

In terms of lyrics, it's definitely on par with other, harder stuff we've been seeing. You get some rather bland, predictable lines - shout out to the title line of if this is love / Well, it's fabulous - but you also get lines about how your lips close to mine / I get chills up my spine / And when we touch / I thrill so much. Which feels pretty suggestive. Plus it's all sung with a very Elvis-ish moan and hiccup to it, further selling Charlie's desperation and pent-up horniness.

Except... I don't know, the sound has a lot of the hallmarks of rock and roll, but the bass and backing singers and the sound of it all just feel a little safe. There are no vocal fireworks, no stand-out solos, and it's not got the explosive energy or the yowling anarchy that other songs have had. Which isn't a problem, but it doesn't help the song stand out, exactly.

On a side note, I also don't think it helps that Charlie makes himself sound terminally lame, with lines about how I read in a book / About love and its charms. Come on, man. Nobody actually cool has ever confessed to reading up about love in a book! Also not working in Charlie's favour is the way he pronounces "fabulous" as "fa-boolus" literally one time in the whole song. It just sounds silly, and kinda inconsistent, and it bugs me.

Plus, I think the song's also kind of camp, and not in a good, cheesy way. The moaning's just a bit overdone, the hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm at the end's laying it on thick, and the modern connotations of the word "fabulous" work against Charlie to create a track that I can't quite take seriously, but that I also can't quite muster the enthusiasm to embrace wholeheartedly as a piece of quality cheese, either. Maybe I could if I'd grown up with it - there are plenty of mediocre songs from the 2000s and 2010s that I love just on a nostalgia basis - but for now, this song is not doing it for me. Sorry, Charlie.

I don't hate this song. It's perfectly acceptable, and would be a decent piece of background colour for, say, a film scene set in the 1950s. And Charlie has another hit coming up, so I'm hoping he can impress me a bit more with that one. Not a disaster.

Favourite song of the accidentally camp bunch: Fabulous

[warmthintouches]

Me: Can I ask you something that's a little weird and a little late to be asking this?

Him: Sure

Me: You value me right?

Him: Absolutely babe

Me: 😅😅 ...you ...you want to spend time with me? It's not like ...a burden when I ask to spend time with you? you enjoy talking to me every day? Eeeeep

Him: Your never a burden, i enjoy every moment with you in person or texting on here.. just wish we had more freedom (which hopefully should happen once we get you moved in with Dusty)

Me: It should be a lot easier once I move, which is a major plus to me moving. I just overthink (as you know i do) and I thought about how I always initiate hangouts and stuff...(usually) and got worried that I was only fun when it's convenient? 😅 eeeeeeeeeeep

Him: Im just very low maintenance.. I usually just wanna chill, watch something, play something etc.. not a huge going out person and the car hangouts are cool but its just some music a little talking and great sex lol

Me: I'm like that too, I would much rather just watch something or play something while chilling in my comfy clothes together. But! Quality time means something to me too.. 👉👈 so I know it might be lame but I like to know that spending time with me means something to you?? And when we don't do it very often I start to second guess my worth? Idk if im explaining it very well 😓

Him: I do understand, but you should never second guess your worth with me.. if it somehow fades then I will let you know because you deserve my complete honesty babe

Me: I really appreciate the honesty 🫶 it means a lot. I will also be honest about that too. I uh, I just think im trying to say that I would be comforted maybe if you tried to spend more time with me? Or suggested spending time together? I know it's lame to just hang out in the car or just go eat or something but...I'd like it? And it will be different im assuming once I move/less difficult to figure out things to do. I'm sorry im being annoying

Him: No need to apologize, i want you to express how you feel so we can work on things

Me: 🫶🏼🫶🏼 want you to be comfortable with me

Him: I am comfortable with you.. im still partially stuck in my loner routine of leave work asap, shower, eat and game/yt.. so im never trying to just leave you after work its just my mind goes straight into routine mode after lunch basically

Me: I'm glad you're comfortable with me and I know it takes some getting used to. I just like spending time with you but I don't want to be too much. So I don't like to bug you bc its out of your routine. And im simple I don't require much, just need some time wiff you. And to talk to you outside of work.

Him: Maybe we need to work on scheduling/ setting a more legit schedule to regularly hangout for a bit.. since we are both creatures of routine

Me: Maybe so? We do have the same Wednesdays off. And I just get tired of our only interactions being at work 🥺 but! We can talk about it tomorrow or something. You need to get some rest, im sorry for keeping you up with silly things.

Him: Nothing silly about this babe, but yes lets try and continue this tomorrow

Me: I appreciate you caring and taking time to talk to me about it 🫶 let's try to talk about it tomorrow if we're not too exhausted. You need sleeps

Him: Sounds good babe, get some rest as well 😘🫶🏼 sweet dreams and see you tomorrow

[bluejay-writes]

A sort of Fairy Tail - Chapter 6

Rating: T / PG-13, SFW. Fandom: Mystic Messenger Relationships: 707/MC (Jaena)/Saeran Chapter 6 Wordcount: 3554 Summary:

Freelance Hacker by day, cosplayer by weekend, Jaena Grey was living her best life. One fateful convention, she meets a scarily talented fellow costumer and his friend Zen.

When Jaena finds herself embroiled in the usual Mint Eye apartment plot, Seven panics to see someone he knows. Hijinks ensue, including Jaena spending the majority of her time cosplaying as 707 in his own bunker to hide herself from Vanderwood - for better or worse.

You can also read this on AO3! <- Also a good place to check tags.

Chapter 6: Vanderwood

Seven had told her that his handler could always tell when he was lying and that fact was the most likely reason they’d be found out, if they were careful enough. They hadn’t been careful enough, of course, but she hadn’t expected Seven to use the honest truth to antagonize the man, either. Was he just Seven’s handler, or was there some other kind of connection these two had? Vanderwood acted like an exhausted older sibling most of the time. Well, at least what the media would have her believe an exhausted older sibling acted like. She didn’t have one of those to base her opinions on.

“So you’re telling me that it was Red who was sitting at your desk hyperfocused on coding enough to not greet me and just grunt in irritation at empty snacks?”

Jaena blushed at that assessment. She hadn’t greeted Vanderwood because she was terrified of him, but maybe she’d keep that one to herself.

“Yes.” Seven said. “She’d convinced me to take a break. I was downstairs organizing my closet.”

“Try saying that with less bullshit.” Vanderwood said, and Seven winced.

“I was downstairs putting on my Lucy cosplay because she wanted to see me all dressed up like a cute girl and I’m a sucker for an excuse to crossplay.”

“I should have just accepted your poor excuse for a lie.”

“That was incredibly accurate but I somehow feel called out.” Jaena muttered.

Seven turned and gave her a look that she could only interpret as “Stop drawing attention to yourself, please.” All she could do was focus on putting away the food, then, and not look up again as they continued their discussion. 

“So, as you can see, she’s not a threat.”

“For the past week, your output has been up, and the quality’s been higher. Also, you’re better rested than I have seen you since I stopped mandating a bedtime.” Vanderwood said, bitterly. “How have you managed to stay focused, and improve your health, while hiding a woman from me?”

“What can I say? Scarlet’s good for me.” Seven grinned like a cheshire cat, and suddenly Jaena wondered if she was in trouble.  Vanderwood didn’t seem angry as much as he seemed… jealous. Which was definitely not the emotion she was expecting from the man who was ready to tase her for existing.

“So, I’m guessing Red isn’t one of your charity nerds.” Vanderwood said, too quietly.

“Well…” Seven said, and then sighed. “She is. For better or worse.”

“That sounds ominous.” Jaena said quietly, unable to hold back her commentary despite Seven’s previous warning.

“You’ve never brought any of them here before.” Vanderwood said, looking carefully at her, which made Jaena feel more than a little bit like a bug under a microscope.

“Weellll…” Seven hedged, and then sighed. “I knew her before she was part of the RFA and then she got locked in with the bomb, so…”

“I thought you told me no one could get in that apartment.” Vanderwood said, his head whipping back around to look at Seven.

“That’s what I thought. The only people who knew the code to that apartment were myself and Rika, and with her dead…”

“She’s probably not dead, you know.” Vanderwood interrupted bitterly.

“What?!” Jaena and Seven unintentionally chorused, which made Vanderwood wince.

“It’s fishy. Suicide, from that house? You don’t just jump off a cliff into a lake and not leave a body. And the police records were swept under the rug - the investigation never completed. Someone paid them off.” Vanderwood said, sighing. “If someone got into that apartment, she’s done hiding.”

“Wait, how do you know any of that?” Seven said, his words harsh around the lump in his throat.

“You were worse than useless when V told you about her death. And he was lying through his teeth, and even you should have been able to see that, but you were blinded by your grief. Hell, even the idiot blonde kid doesn’t believe him.”

“Yoosung’s not an idiot.” Seven muttered.

“No shit, he’s brighter than you about this. But that’s beside the point. I went to look into it myself, try to get you some closure so that you’d get back to work, but I only got more questions instead. Some interesting leads, but no time or gumption to follow up on them. Your vacation got your mind back on work and that’s all I really needed.”

“I was going to ask when you even had time to do that since you were riding my ass all the time but that makes sense. Is that why I managed to get a whole week of vacation suddenly?”

“Yep. And you’ve been working like a champ for almost an entire year on one week of vacation, I’d call that a win.”

Jaena blinked. That vacation seemed like it lined up with when she’d met him, which made sense.  What didn’t make sense was that he should have been grieving when she met him, but he was bright, and friendly, and sweet to her even though he only knew her for a few hours.

“Thank you.” She said, into the break in their conversation. They both looked at her like she was either crazy or misreading the conversation entirely.

“For what?” Seven finally said, and she chuckled at her own expense.

“Well, for being yourself, I guess? I can’t believe that sweet, energetic nerd I met was dealing with something like that.”

“Sweet?” Seven croaked out, and Vanderwood looked at them both with an exasperation that was palpable.

“Yeah.” Jaena said, smirking. He’s so adorable when he gets all flustered like that. 

“Oh good.” Vanderwood said, and Jaena wondered if he was being sarcastic. “So whatever Rika’s up to, she picked the wrong girl to meekly be kidnapped into a bomb-filled apartment.”

“Damn straight.” Jaena said sharply. “I’m just lucky Seven came to get me out. Don’t get me wrong, I could have gotten myself out eventually, but I didn’t know there was a bomb at the time and I might have triggered it. I’m good but I’m not infallible.”

Vanderwood didn’t say anything, he just stared at her for awhile, thinking.  Seven seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, and didn’t interrupt their impromptu staring contest.  Finally, Vanderwood broke the silence.

“You’re actually helping him with his work.”

“Yes.” She said, not trying to hide anything. “It’s the least I can do in exchange for room and board, and to put it bluntly saving my life.”

“Seven’s the best hacker in our agency these days.”

“You don’t have to flatter me, Vandy, she’s seen my work.”

“I’m not.” He speared Seven with a glance. “Shut it.” 

“Well, he’s damn good, I can’t argue with that.” Jaena said, smiling at Seven, who just looked at her, an odd combination of betrayed and flattered expressions on his face.

Vanderwood turned back to Jaena, who having finished putting away the leftovers, had started to gather the dishes so she could wash them.

“Leave those. Seven, do the dishes. Red, you’re coming with me.”

Seven watched as Vanderwood took her by the wrist and led her up to Seven’s office. The glass walls provided sound baffling but no visual privacy. This was fine by her, the man had a taser, if he wanted to hurt her, he would have just done it.

The office itself was in a state of disarray that was unusual even for Seven. He’d clearly panicked when Vanderwood arrived and made a mess. Her first instinct was to right the chair, and pick up the stack of papers that had scattered.  She’d managed the former, but when she turned to do the latter she found that Vanderwood had already done so.

“First, thank you for dinner.” Vanderwood said, nudging her shoulder so she sat in the recently-righted chair. “Second, do you have any idea the depth of a mess you’ve waded into here?”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you were willing to eat my food. And, um..” She bit her lip, trying to figure out how to actually answer his question. “No. I don’t. I know that Seven was working himself into the ground, and I hated to see him that way, it reminded me of someone, so I helped. He’s right that I value my anonymity enough to keep my mouth shut, though.”

“And why is that?” He paused, but not long enough for her to answer. “Don’t try to lie - you already know enough to get the both of us killed, so try being a little forthcoming for me.”

Jaena sighed, opened her mouth to start, and shook her head. “I can’t do this without—“

“Does it look like I’m giving you a choice?” Vanderwood practically snarled, hand on his taser. “Start talking, or I’ll start telling you what I already know.”

Jaena held her hands up. “Wait, wait. I just meant I want Seven here for this. I don’t want to do it twice and I’m sure he knows none of it.” Besides, I promised him my story when he told me about Saeran.

Vanderwood grunted, but turned and opened the door, but didn’t even manage to say anything before Seven called “On my way!” And started in their direction.

He must really hate doing the dishes. Jaena thought, and took a drink of the open PhD. Pepper on the desk, unconcerned about the fact that it was definitely Seven’s can.

“Ok ok ok what am I needed for?” Seven said, looking back and forth between them.

“Sit.” Vanderwood said, gesturing to the open space on the couch next to him. To Jaena he said, “Continue.”

Jaena took a deep breath, let it out, and started talking.

“My parents were murdered when I was six. Think Batman-style, but less formative.” She saw the confused look on Seven’s face, and knew he’d attempted to do a background check on her, and found what she’d left for him to find. “My aunt took me in, then. She was… very wealthy, and a black widow. She’d had four husbands, all dead, and no children from any of them, and was working on courting another, but he was desperate for some kind of heir, so I was practically perfect.  I was an adorable child, and she got me into modeling almost immediately. The problem with child modeling is that it’s rife with predators, and they use enough makeup to hide bruises pretty easily. It was hell.” 

She stopped and took another drink of Seven’s soda, not looking at either of the men in front of her. Vanderwood wanted her story, so he’d get it, but that didn’t mean it was easy.

“One of the crew was also a hacker, and when things got bad, he got me out. Buzzed my hair off, got me secondhand clothes, taught me how to behave like a boy. I guess I have him to blame for my love of cosplay, too.”

Jaena paused for a drink, and Seven spoke into the silence.

“How come no one found you? Child models have to be notable, right?”

Jaena smirked. “Well, my aunt wanted an heir, right? My hair is red. hers is brown. She kept my hair dyed brown, even for all of my modeling. Wasn’t hard for people to believe with my brown eyes, so they never questioned it. Who’d give up a chance at a tiny ginger model? But also it meant when my hair started to grow back in after it got buzzed off, it was my natural red. Scruffy ginger boy is easily looked past if you’re looking for a wealthy brunette. Especially because I was nine, so I hadn’t hit puberty yet. No curves. Not that the subtly stuffed training bras and cinched waists of the photo shoots didn’t make me look much more like a woman at nine than should have been acceptable. I made a convincing boy for the first three years or so.”

“Not anymore.” Vanderwood said, and Jaena stuck her tongue out at him. 

“Again, Vandy, we totally fooled you.”

“She had her back to me!” Vanderwood said, indignant.

“I was also wearing a binder, a loose shirt, and a hoodie. I could have fooled anyone.” Jaena said, placatingly. “Anyway, long story short all of my documents are forged and people have written me off as dead for more than a decade. My anonymity is key to not having everything fall apart around me. I freelance hack for a living, and do cosplay as a hobby, which is both how I met this adorable weirdo and why I’m in Seoul right now.”

“Holy shit.” Seven said, sighing. “I found none of that.”

“Well, you just did a surface scan when I showed up in the RFA chat, right?”

“No.” Seven said, shaking his head with a wince. “After you fooled Vanderwood, I did a deep dive. You’d finished something in a few hours that I expected to take me all night, and it was clean and commented code. I had to know who you were. You’re a ghost. Looking you up shows me your cosplay social media, and your clickedIn shows you’re a freelance QA Engineer. Hell, I found school photos going farther back than nine. There was nothing pointing at this. You’re either a really good liar, or I need to quit my job.”

“Neither.” Vanderwood said. “She’s not lying. And she really is that good.”

“Unless she fooled you.” Seven said, and Vanderwood shook his head. 

“Nope.  Jaena, that hacker, he went by Tangerine, didn’t he?”

Jaena had reached for the can of soda, and at Vanderwood’s question, the can hit the floor. She said nothing, but her reaction said it all for her.

“Uh, Vanderwood?” Seven said, confused. “Wasn’t Tangerine your… first… partner? The one who--”

“He was.” Vanderwood said., cutting Seven off mid-sentence. 

That moment of confusion helped Jaena regain her mental footing. “How were you partners with Tangerine a decade ago? He was old.”

Vanderwood sputtered. “Old?! He’d only be just over 40 this year.” He shook his head to get himself back on track. “We weren’t partners a decade ago. He showed me the ropes about 7 years ago. I’ve been with this idiot since we lost Tangerine.”

Jaena blinked. 7 years ago was when Tangerine stopped checking in. Lost. “Tangerine’s dead?”

Vanderwood nodded. “Lost on a mission. Got caught, believe it or not, saving a kid.”

“He did that a lot, I take it.”

“No. Twice. You, and this idiot.” Vanderwood gestured to Seven. “He must have been able to smell potential.”

“Seven was a mission?”

“Obliquely.” Vanderwood said, glancing at Seven.

“She knows most of it.” Seven muttered, fighting his own demons.

“He told you about his father? Shit, Zero Seven.” Vanderwood facepalmed and took a breath before continuing. “Tangerine and I were on a job for Seven’s biological father, crossed paths with this kid, and he added a bit of wetwork to our mission. Off the kid. Tangerine refused, and it got him dead.”

The finality in Vanderwood’s tone was the only thing that kept Jaena from asking for more details. Instead, she asked the only other question that made sense; “How did Seven end up with you?”

“V.” Seven said, when Vanderwood hesitated. “One of those little jobs I told you about was to track Vanderwood, which almost got me dead, but got me into the Agency instead. I don’t know how V knew, but… it happened. I was so damn naive.”

“The Boss was against it at first because of this one’s father being a big client, but somewhere along the way that got cleared up higher than my pay grade and suddenly the boss is telling me to find the kid and take him as my new partner.”

“And Agent 707 EXTREME was born.” Seven said, ruefully.

“God we’re fucked up.” Jaena said, and then sniffed. Oh. She was crying.

Vanderwood only then seemed to notice the mess made by the can Jaena dropped, and huffed out a sigh, then looked at Seven and waved a hand in Jaena’s direction. “Handle that, I need to clean up this mess.”

Jaena was shaking. She didn’t know when she’d started or what had caused it. Was it actually mentioning any of her past after burying it for a dozen years? Was it the thought that Vanderwood knew Tangerine? That her only ally from childhood was dead which left her at complete loose ends? She thought she was a loner, but being truly alone wasn’t something she’d ever had to face.

When Seven picked her up, she didn’t fight him, but instead curled up against him when he settled back onto the couch holding her, quietly petting her hair.

“That’s the shock, and probably the trauma.” Seven said quietly. “I’ve got you, so let it go. Don’t bottle it up like I know you want to.”

Jaena wanted to snark at him about the pot calling the kettle black, but all of her words seemed stuck. She was vaguely aware of Vanderwood coming in with the mop and cleaning up the sticky mess, and leaving again. 

“I’m here, my scarlet.” Seven said before planting a soft kiss on the top of her head. “I won’t let them take you from me.” Then, slightly louder. “Not even you, Vanderwood.”

She heard Vanderwood chuckle, and looked up. “No way. I found Tangerine’s treasure. I’m not going to let anyone even know the girl exists, and keeping her around is the easiest way to do that.”

Jaena took a deep breath and let it out. “Treasure?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

“The last time I saw Tangerine, he grabbed me by my jacket and told me to guard his treasure. I’ve been trying to find you since. You were the only loose end I could think of in everything he’d told me. But you were too well hidden. He taught you too well.”

“Huh.” she said. “He didn’t leave me alone after all.”

Vanderwood chuckled. “You just had to find us instead. And as much as I want to keep encouraging this physical contact festival we’re throwing, Seven, Boss really does want that done tonight.”

Seven laughed. “It’s done. I was pushing to get it done before dinner… which is why I missed your message that you were on the way until it was far too late.”

“Thanks for not tasing me.” Jaena said, and Vanderwood just shook his head.

“Move out of the creepy costume basement.” he said, as if that were some kind of ‘you’re welcome’.

“Uh, why?” Jaena said, suddenly concerned that despite everything he wanted her out of the bunker.

“Because I hate going down there, and I want to be able to check and make sure you’re breathing. Now that I know you’re who I’ve been supposed to be protecting, well… I’ve got seven years of protecting to catch up on.”

Jaena smiled, and Seven pulled her tighter back into his arms. “I’ve got her.” he said, possessively.

“Seven!” She said, and he made a silly gollum-like sound. 

“Perfect Scarlet! You can stay in my room. It’s not like I use it anyway.”

“You have two guest rooms, only one of which I’ve claimed.”

“The other one is Saeran’s room.” Seven muttered.

“I’ll share your room, Seven. As long as you promise to behave.” Jaena teased, and Vanderwood threw up his hands. 

“Children.”

“Ha, got it!” Jaena said, throwing her arms up in triumph.

“What?” Seven said, looking over at the couch where she’d planted herself now that she didn’t need to hide from Vanderwood.  The freedom to not wear the same outfit as Seven every day was something she didn’t realize she needed. She liked showing off her curves. Especially when it turned Seven into a blushy mess.

“I’ve got the floorplan for that mountain HQ.  With that and the camera feeds you hacked last night, we should be able to get in unnoticed.”

“Sweet.” Seven said, focusing back on his screen. “Now I just need to get far enough ahead that we can go check it out without causing Vanderwood any problems.”

“What are we not causing me problems about?” Vanderwood said, stepping into the room with a pizza box. “I brought lunch.”

“Vandy!” Jaena said, closing her laptop and setting it aside. “You’re a saint.”

“Shut it, you. No pizza until you tell me what you’re planning.” Vanderwood half-growled.

“Ruuude!” Jaena pouted, and then laughed, realizing just how far she’d settled into life with her little misfit secret agent family.

“We’re going to try and find my brother.” Seven said quietly. “Jaena’s got the plans for that mountain HQ.”

“You’re not going without me.” Vanderwood said. “I should be able to clear you a couple of days, especially if I frame it as training. We’ll be in the mountains if they check, which is cliche as hell but believable.”

“If they check?” Jaena asked, and Seven nodded. 

“GPS chips.”

“Haaa…like a pet.” she said, and watched as both of them bristled at her implication.

“I have information on that place too, I’ll go get it and we’ll compare notes tonight and make a plan.” Vanderwood said, immediately back to business. 

“Got it.” Jaena and Seven chorused, which made them both laugh. Vanderwood just rolled his eyes.

[pearlstarlight5]

Licensed Game Review #1: Disney's The Emperor's New Groove

Year released: 2000

Developer: Argonaut Games

Console: PlayStation (played on PlayStation 3)

First thing I'll say on this game is the obvious: it's a cheesy licensed game. As a sucker for cheesy licensed games, this obviously didn't deter me from playing it. Additionally, this also means that I will not rate this game for quality, but instead assess it on enjoyment.

One thing I noticed immediately with the game is that the presentation is spot-on, from the level select being the map from the chase scene to the save files being represented by Kuzco's suitors (let me guess, Save File 1 has a great personality). Likewise, while I was expecting generic video game score, I like that the score instead had that South American sound to it. As a result, it is atmospheric and doesn't make Perfect World stick out too much.

On the topic of sound, Kuzco does not have many recorded lines, but they are not particularly overplayed. I don't remember how many days it took me to play this game (winter break does that to ya), but I only started to get slightly annoyed at the repetitive voice lines at the final level. Even then, the voice lines are not played enough to make them that overly annoying (now note that as I'm writing this, I'm playing A Bug's Life where I've already turned off the sound effects 5 levels in).

The other highlight of the game is the writing. While on one hand, they flanderize the characters and simplify the story, they make up for it in making it even more bizarre. For example, the characters know they are in a video game based on a movie ("This scene was shorter in the movie," says Pacha during River Chapter 3). While not the weirdest thing in the game by any stretch, it is faithful to the movie flat out not having a 4th wall. Rather, the weirdest thing in the game is easily the guy who wears flying underpants. I would also like to mention that the voice-acting is pretty good, definitely helped by having Eartha Kitt (RIP) and Patrick Warburton on board.

As a 3D platformer, the camera is a bit wonky in some places, but I've seen worse too. This aspect is nothing special. Additionally, the jungle looks more like a playhouse of one, which is absolutely because of the 3D model.

The controls are also pretty standard, but for the most part not particularly glitchy or unstable, even as licensed games go. Controlling Kuzco takes a little getting used to, but I adjusted before I finished the Village. Also he stops when he lands after jumping, which is a huge help to the platforming.

So since I'm talking about The Emperor's New Groove game, I'm gonna need to talk about the Catacombs. The response time sucks, especially in Chapter 5, it takes trial-and-error and memorization, and you will die a lot. But it's overall fun and not as painful as people make it out to be. I also love the concept of making levels based on the rollercoaster to Yzma's lab.

The bosses are quite easy, especially Cat Yzma, and the actual hardest part of the game is the cows in Lab Chapter 5 (This is why the cows should have stayed home). It actually was a curious decision to make the cow a mob in the game when that scene had plenty of other animals and Yzma excused the cow.

Verdict: Highly recommended to fans of the movie and cheesy licensed games. As my first Disney PS1 game, this made a great first impression.

Using the funeral scene makes for unironically one of the best game over sequences in gaming.

[wizkiddx]

i just had the cutest idea at least in my head and would LOVE if u could do a blurb? where tom is trying to measure your ring size to propose while your asleep, but then you wake up and catch him.

this is v v cute! I hope this is what u want, sorry if it didn't translate I found it a bit tricky aha

summary: tom gets caught preparing for a very big moment

warnings: v small reference to smut

//////////////////////////////

Sleep always had been, and always will be, an important thing in your life. Naturally then, any source of interruption, was met with some….some hostility. Maybe it was your annoying flatmates as a student, who insisted on playing the worst drum and bass till 4 am every night; maybe your neighbours car alarm, which seemed to be set off by the lightest gust of wind; or maybe your loving- if slightly infuriating -boyfriend.

Tom had just got back from a trip abroad and you’d had a quiet evening in- consisting of pizza, a long forgotten film playing and lots and lots of laughs. As much as you loved his family and friends, celebrating with a fancy dinner and lots of drink - there was nothing better than a night in. It was what you’d both desperately needed too, just actual quality time with the both of you living in the moment, forgetting everything else outside the four walls of your flat.

Needless to say, you’d ended up right between the sheets and you honestly couldn’t remember falling asleep. But now, barely conscious, you did notice your fingers being moved and fiddled with. With a groan you limply pulled them away, rolling over to chase Tom’s body heat - which seemed to have disappeared. His presence hadn’t though, you could tell even with your eyes shut due to his little coo.

“Shh darling…. go back to sleep.” And with a mumbled incomprehensible response, you tried to - even if you personal heater appeared to be in hiding.

Yet then, barely 30 seconds later, the bed dipped weirdly again; Tom’s grasp lightly tugged at the arm you’d crossed over your body. Fighting against it, you snatched your arm away and groaned incoherently once again. Again you got a the most whispered and soft sounding reply from Tom. “Shhh Y/n/n…. come on, work with me here.” Clearly you were half asleep, not really paying any attention to to his words, so huffed - shifting again so you we lying half on your back, half on your side, your left hand lying on the pillow next to your head.

And yet again, barely a minute later, you were sure you heard him chuckle before the bed wobbled as he crawled up it. You could feel his shin brushing against your side as he once again went to grab your hand. And that- that was the last straw.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

The sight you were greeted with was not one you expected. Tom kneeling next to you, with bed hair and all, looking like a deer caught in headlights - literally too, the flashlight from his phone illuminated the otherwise pitch black room. His eyes bugged out his head, while he frantically fumbled with his phone in an attempt to get the light off.

“Nonononono” Muttering as if you weren’t there, Tom obviously struggled to find the right button to shut it off - giving you amply opportunity to notice the other object in his lap.

A yellow tape measure?

Why the hell he was measuring you while you slept, completely unawares, was beyond you. The boy hand some explaining to do - primarily because… he interrupted your sleep.

“Tom what the fuck?”

“I’m so sorry I-I just….just go back to sleep love.” It was weird, how he seemed defeated? He looked upset, and was doing that thing where he nervously ran his fingers through his brown curls.

“Not until you tell me what the hell you’re doing.” Sticking firmly, you reached over to flick the bedside light on, just as he finally got the torch off. The warm golden light illuminated to whole room, allowing you to more clearly assess the situation. The brunette was sat so he were almost leaning over you, with the tape measure but also you now noticed a little notebook and pen sat to the side. His despairing look had you immediately forgiving the interruption to your night- everything, melting away to concern. “What’s going on T?”

“You um-you weren’t supposed to-fuck! I’m sorry love I just-“ Reacting to his embarrassed ramblings, you sat up properly to cup his his cheeks with both your hands.

“Hey take a breath yeah? Then tell me why you’re being all creepy and sizing me up for a coffin or something?” He laughed breathily at that, but it was a smile that didn’t meet his eyes.

“I wasn’t- I… can we just forget this happened?” He already started to get off the bed, wrapping the tape up in a very hurried manner. With a scowl you shook your head, leaping up to grab the yellow ribbon out his hands before he could fight back.

At that point it was too late for Tom. You saw the way the tape was labelled, not with cms or inches. Instead it was letters of the alphabet, starting at G and ending at Z. You would’ve been confused, except the fact you’d used this weird scale before, when you and your best friend got matching promise rings the other month.

Tom had been trying to measure your ring size.

You couldn’t help but let out a little ‘oh’ as it clicked - making Tom sigh heavily, still looking at you with worried and terrified eyes. It took a minute for you to face him, smiling weakly with a little gleam growing across your eyes.

“We should- we should uh, let’s go back to bed yeh?” Stammering through, you already almost forced the the tape back into his hands. Wordlessly he nodded jerkily and placed both the notebook, the tape and his phone on the bedside - as you flicked the lamp off.

Obviously, it was awkward as hell. Right now Tom knew you knew - he was less convinced though on how you reacted. Now he was doubting whether you wanted that- if you wanted to be his wife. The silence was defeneing, the bedsheets the only noise to interrupt as you both settled back onto the pillows. Tom left a bit on no-mans land in the middle, not wanting to push it.

Really there was no reason to not move and cuddle up to him, even slightly cruel. You knew Tom was worried that he’d fucked up massively. You could hear his breathing shake, as you both stared up at the ceiling. Maybe it was slightly horrible, but you couldn’t help but feel insanely blissfully happy. Tom was your future and it was good to know he was starting to get the ball rolling.

“I’m a size N” You whispered up to the ceiling “just for the record.” You both swivelled to look at each other simultaneously, your smirk completely overwhelmed by the smile of pure joy that grew on Tom’s face. Yes the room was dark and you could barely see, but that image might just be one that lives forever in your memory - as your absolute favourite.

“Just-just so we’re on the same page… um, thats your fourth finger? Left hand?”

Finally moving from the awkward position, you nestled your head into the crook of his neck, legs wrapping round his. You chose not to answer super specifically, because it seemed like he was asking more than just one question there. Just very broad and very open to interpretation answer.

“Yes and… and um yes too…just for the record”

~~ let me know what you thought <3 ~~

tagging: @hallecarey1 @hollandfanficlove @crossyourpeter @lovehollandy12 @thefernandasantana

[demonslayedher]

Thoughts on Charcoal Lore in KnY

I really love Japanese charcoal. I give myself full permission to think into it too deeply. Kikuzumi, made with kunugi oak trees that take about 6~10 years to mature, is especially beautiful, and noted for this chrysanthemum-like pattern. They're used in the tea ceremony because they don't give off smoke or fragrance, and it has a sound so kind and gentle it makes you want to cry. It's also generally thought among the Japanese fandom that the hand guard of Tanjiro's charcoal-black sword is based on this appearance.

Due to bug infestations, as well as a lack of charcoal farmers, kunugi charcoal is getting more and more precious and expensive. I have said it many times over the course of this blog, but I am upset that Kamado Kanata and Kamado Sumihiko are not charcoal farmers. Granted, Tanjiro and his forefathers weren't necessarily artisanal charcoal farmers, they just made a good quality product, even if it didn't have the same pretty design. But, to borrow from a longer post about how this may have contributed to Hinokami Kagura:

Maybe lesser known, but very deeply entrenched in Japanese culture, is the purification element of charcoal. While it may be known around the world for soaking up undesirable elements and therefore used in everything from fish tank filters to treating food poisoning, in Japan, there’s a bit of a spiritual side to it as well. For something so closely tied to the way of life for citizens throughout hundreds of years of history for everything from cooking to heating the home, it’s unsurprising that quality charcoal would receive as much emphasis as good water and rice. Japanese charcoal is especially known for not producing undesirable smoke or odor, making it appropriate for use in a lot of settings. Charcoal farmers have often not just been that; they’ve been caretakers of the forest. Keeping the right trees, at the right sizes (both for use as charcoal and for how you pack it together when making charcoal), and in the right numbers to ensure you have stock for coming years, requires management of the forest.

That means the Kamado family not only had careful management of fire in the actual days of charcoal production, but of a wide variety of natural resources to ensure the trees were healthy. Natural weather phenomena, clean water, pest control, minerals from rocks getting into the soil, hmm, so many elements to pay attention to. Hmm. These sure sound a lot like other Breaths. And Breaths all stem from Sun Breathing. That means there may be certain elements of Sun Breathing that have been emphasized in each of them, but none of them encompass so many qualities of the natural world. The natural world which Yoriichi saw with such clarity that nature accepted him with open arms, practically, in how well animals took to him. Sun Breathing, while especially using that all-important purification aspect of sunlight which burns evil demons, is like an all encompassing embrace of nature. While being closely tied with fire is hugely important, there’s more to it than just flames.

This may also play into why Sumiyoshi was so quickly able to grasp the essential of Sun Breathing.

Back to real life, in arranging charcoal in a hearth, you consider different sizes and shapes, and the air flow between them, almost like breath. You want to arrange it for the right strength, but also for how long you want it to burn. After all, once one piece of charcoal is lit, it will spread quickly to other pieces very close to it, like someone who has attained a mark lighting the same fever in swordsmen around them. I've also gushed more than a little about how beautiful the glowing red of charcoal is, as well as all the different symbolism behind the color red in KnY. I feel that the red of Red Blades is the same glowing red that charcoal gives off. But, what struck me the other day was how fragile a piece of charcoal is when burning its brightest. At the beginning of Chapter 193, Muzan reflects on how, although they don't bite quite like Yoriichi's did, Tanjiro and various Pillars attained Red Blades. Of Tanjiro, Muzan thinks that in order to have achieved this without borrowing his sister's power, Tanjiro must be on death's door. Muichiro and Iguro likewise achieved it in the same state of desperation, and Giyuu was in a similar state when he and Tanjiro both used what was left of their grips to attain that burn again in Chapter 199. While the same temperature of the blade can be attained by applying the precise amount of pressure or by using Nezuko's flames, to achieve it through one's will and physicality alone, it may be like an even more pronounced effect of the mark, which likely works by borrowing against a swordsman's lifespan for a temporary increased in power.

The Red Blade may be like the last burst of strength a candle emits right before it goes out. It takes that last reserve of strength, and for a piece of charcoal to get to that brightest glow, it has to have already undergone enough burning that it's about to crumble to ash.

[darling-i-read-it]

Hug

Pelle x reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Danis grief and the things that come with that (crying, heaviness) 

Author’s Note: this was not on my list of things I wanted to write and yet 

I feel held by him okay 

Summary: You and Pelle meet through Dani and Christian (man I suck at summaries) 

Song: Run by Hozier

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

(not my gif)

Dani liked you. She liked you a lot. You made her feel sane and that helped her in more ways than one. She liked the fact that you would always listen to her and tell her that she was right, even when she was wrong. She liked that your eyes never once flitted away from her when she spoke. She liked that you understood her grief in a way that most people would never try to. 

She almost had no desire to introduce you to Christian. She loved Christian, she really did, but you didn’t need to meet her boyfriend. 

Dani thought, even though you did appreciate her that you would never understand the way that he loved Christian. Maybe she didn’t even understand it. 

In any event, she wouldn’t be able to explain in an adequate way. 

But still, you pushed.

You were hanging out with her, in her room. She was walking around the room numbly, trying to understand why her head never seemed to be wrapped around the room when people were speaking. A sorrow was still hanging over her. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked. You were sitting on her desk, watching her anxiously pace back and forth. 

“No.” She stopped walking. “I’m sorry, that was blunt.” You shook your head. 

“Don’t worry about it. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want,” you told her evenly. Dani walked up to you and sat down at the chair in front of you. She felt a little more clear headed with you. It helped to be around people sometimes. Tears started to well up in her eyes but she quickly shook them away.

“Christian has been distant lately. I don’t know how to tell him I still need him without being...needy,” she said, avoiding your eyes.

“He should understand.” You gave her a narrow look and she sighed. 

“Yeah yeah. I know you wanna meet him.” 

“I just wanna learn about this guy who supposedly has absolute zero ability to read his girlfriends moods.” She sighed.

“You wanna meet him? Alright. You can meet him. But his friends will probably be there and if you don’t wanna-”

“I’d love to meet his friends as well. You can tell a lot about a person based on the company that they keep.” 

====

“This is Y/N. Y/N this is Christian, Mark, Josh and Pelle.” You shook their hands, a kind smile on your face. Mark eyed you for a second longer than he should have and you weren’t sure how to feel about them as a whole. A very basic group of boys that may not be all that they seemed. You were all at Christians place which was dirty. Clothes were on the floor and most of his books were strewn around. There was food on the kitchen counters. 

You ignored your initial thoughts and waved slyly.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you all.” Truth be told, you didn’t know much about any of them but Christian. You barely knew their names to faces. 

“You’re the only friend of Dani’s we hear about. You go to school here too right?” Josh asked. You nodded.

“Yes. It’s how Dani and I met.” Your eyes looked around the four of them and surveyed their expression. The man at the end, Pelle, had a very neutral and soft looking expression on his face. You admired him immediately. 

But you ignored that so that you were able to assess Christian better. 

“Now Christian, I think it’s about time I teach you how to treat your girlfriend,” you teased gently and the guys raised their eyebrows. Mark patted Christians back.

“She’s got her guns out. How are you going to respond?!” Mark asked loudly. Christian was laughing and so were you but you had been serious. He was a terrible boyfriend. If they had classes on how to be a decent boyfriend, you would force him to take them, for Dani’s sake. 

“You’re Dani’s friend which means you are my friend,” he said finally. Your lips twitched and you nodded slowly. “Can I offer you anything to drink?” 

“No, thank you though.” Dani sat down at the living room area and the boys quickly followed. Her and Christian were on the love seat, Mark in one of the chairs and you, Pelle and Josh on the couch. You were sitting beside Pelle on the left. 

He smelled good. 

“How is school treating you?” he asked. You turned to him, pleased to hear that his voice was as soothing as he looked. He had an accent you couldn’t place - you were hopeless with accents. 

“Well! At this rate, I should get through finals with only a few scratches here and there,” you told him. 

You could hear that Mark had asked Christian a question and they were having a conversation off to the side. 

“How about you?” you asked.

“Good, just about as good as you. I wonder, maybe if we have any teachers in common,” he suggested. You nodded. 

“It’s entirely possible. What are you studying?” 

“I’m in the Anthropology department.” 

“We may overlap. I’ll have to check your schedule.” 

Dani gave you a look but your eyes were not on her. She couldn’t distinguish what you and Pelle were saying because your voices were so calm while the other boys were booming. She was only a few feet away and still...whatever you were laughing about was lost on her.

====

You didn’t stay long. Dani and you had to get back so that you were able to study for finals. And by that, it was usually you studying with her in the room so she had someone to keep her in check. You didn’t mind. 

“You and Pelle seemed to get along well,” she noted. 

“I was there to make sure Christian seemed like a decent human,” you told her. 

“And?” You thought about it for a moment and she was right. You had talked to Pelle almost exclusively. 

“Pelle was really nice,” you conceded. She laughed gently. At least you were able to be honest with her. 

“I think he likes you. He’s a Swedish exchange student, if he didn’t tell you.” 

“That’s where the accent is from! It was bugging me. I was about to start speaking to Google,” you said laughing. She rolled her eyes playfully.

“You could have just asked him.”

“I didn’t know if it was inappropriate!” 

======

You ran your hand through your hair as you walked around your little apartment. It had about everything you could ever need and you loved it. Dani was sleeping on the couch you had managed to squeeze in. 

There was a knock at your door. 

You checked the clock on the wall and furrowed your brows in confusion. It was still pretty early in the day. You had to go to class soon.

You opened the door and Pelle stood in front of you, a kind smile on his face. 

“Pelle! What a nice surprise,” you whispered. He looked confused as to your whisper and you opened the door enough to show Dani sound asleep. He nodded understandingly. 

“I hope this isn’t inappropriate,” he said, in the same hushed tone.

“No, no. Although I do have to go to class soon. What is it?” You leaned against the doorframe.

“I thought our conversation the other day was really nice.” He paused for a minute, thinking over his words. You waited patiently. “I would like to take you out for coffee.” 

You were a bit surprised that he had come all the way to your apartment to tell you that. You assumed that Christian had given him the address. He had it so he knew where Dani was, she had given it to him. 

“I would like that very much. Although, you could have just called,” you said smiling.

“I prefer in person. I think it’s more personal.” You nodded but turned around, grabbing a pen off of your desk. You grabbed his hand and scribbled your number onto his palm.

“For when you want to tell me where to meet you.” He smiled and nodded once, pleasantly. 

“Until then.” 

“Until then.” 

====

Pelle called you that night to tell you where to meet him for coffee. You were pleased and excited. Dani woke up the next morning when you were getting ready to leave. It was Saturday so you didn’t have any classes to attend and you figured you were due a break from studying. 

“Where are you going?” she asked groggily. You cleaned up your bed and turned to her on the couch.

“I have a coffee date,” you said honestly. 

She raised her head up off the pillow and rubbed her eyes.

“Oh?” You nodded, fixing your hair in the mirror. You looked yourself over and nodded nervously at yourself. You looked good. You hoped it wasn’t too much for just a coffee date. “Care to share who it’s with?” 

You sheepishly looked at her through the mirror. 

“Pelle,” you said quietly. She laughed heartily. It was the first time you had heard her actually laugh in weeks. 

“Pelle?” 

“Yes. Go back to bed. I’ll probably be back before you get up.” She laid her head back down. 

“Have fun at your coffee date!” she called but her voice was muffled by the pillow. 

====

“Yes! I told Dani that but she doesn’t believe me. I don’t know, I think maybe we’re all a little too hard on her.”

The coffee date was going swimmingly. Pelle was funny and he was also able to give you good advice. You were amazed at his kind heart.

As for his feelings for you, he loved you. Dani had spoken about you and your kind heart before but he never thought you would be like this. He never thought he would love you this much so instantly. You were charming and honest and there was some quip left in you. He admired your qualities and was pleased to find that you liked him as well. 

He could never be sure but he thought you may like it back at his home. 

“You’re being a very good friend. Better than most,” he said honestly. He reached a hand forward and laid it on your hands which were sitting on the table. Both of your cups were empty. You looked down at his hand on yours and attempted to suppress your emotions. 

“Thank you Pelle.” 

You moved your hands apart so they were holding his hand between them. He smiled a bit, sheepishly. 

“I really enjoyed this.”

“I did as well.” 

You were very pleased to hear it wasn’t one sided. 

You both stood up and started for the door. His hand still held yours. It was within walking distance of both of your homes but in opposite directions. Before parting he turned to face you. You smiled up at him, trying your very hardest to not let him know how much you had enjoyed the date. 

That was when your phone rang. Your smile fell and you had to know who it was calling. 

Dani. 

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t worry. I will wait.” 

You picked up the phone and put it to your ear.

“Yes?”

“I-I need you.” She was crying. She didn’t like to ask for help so this must have been serious. You nodded stiffly.

“I will be there in a couple minutes. Hold on,” you said kindly. You hung up the phone and turned to him. “Dani needs me, I’m sorry.” He shook his head and before you could say another word, he was hugging you. 

You had thought he might kiss you but this was almost better. It was almost for sure better than a kiss. His arms engulfed your body and held you tightly. He was wearing a soft sweater and it felt so nice against your face. He smelled like herbs and trees. You hugged him back, tightly. He had his hand on the back of your head and he gently kissed your shoulder. 

He pulled away ever so slightly and kissed you softly. You had to pull away to smile. 

“I’ll see you soon Pelle.” He nodded and you were about to walk away when he strengthened his hold on you. 

“Mark, Josh, Christian and I are going to take a trip back to my home in Sweden for the summer. Dani will likely be invited too. Would you like to come?”

[papipopsicle]

AFTERTASTE PART SEVEN

Pairing: Archie Andrews X Reader

Summary: In which two best friends since childhood test whether sex and friendship can co-exist without causing conflict. Including OC's Flick and Cherry, a bisexual and lesbian in a sapphic relationship who are best friends of Y/N.

Song: Dream Boy by Waterparks

Warnings: swearing

Words: 2.1K

MASTERLIST

feedback is always appreciated

Y/F and Y/M Robins were far from perfect parents. Y/F had the mental age of a toddler at times, and being an estate agent who always has to go the extra mile- he often wasn't home when his wife needed him the most. Y/M, on the other end of things, had been a stay at home mum until Y/N turned 16 last summer, and now she helped with all the administrative work for Mayor McCoy. She was a maternal creature which, coupled with her brilliant sarcasm, made for some explosive conversations. The two met on the first day of university and got married a week after the last.

When Y/M first found out she was pregnant with little Y/S Robins, the two realised they wanted a quiet bubble of a town to raise their children and grow up with them. But it wasn't until their second daughter was about to turn seven until they found their forever home in the quaint town of Riverdale. Ten years passing before their eyes, and the picturesque place didn't seen all that anymore.

Jason Blossom's death had nothing to do with the short gunshot sounding over the waves of Sweetwater River, the noise which woke Y/N from her sweet unmemorable dreams every few nights. The summer days rolled into early August without anyone caring, Y/N spending most of them at Cheryl's side listening intently to her past adventures with her brother. Betty threw herself into an internship at a publication house; Flick and Cherry had volunteered at a summer camp, and Archie was helping his dad out more and more with constructions job.

Although it hadn't been the start to the relationship Y/N had hoped for- the nervous giggles and hand holding, short and sweet kisses on late night walks followed by poetry worthy cuddling. There was a magnificent silver lining as Archie's muscles gained definition, and he suited the sweaty builder look far too well.

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y/n Humph!

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Cheryl busy being my own icon

98 Comments | Tagged: y/i/n

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"Earth to my gorgeous queen? Y/N/N?" Cheryl quizzed her friend, who currently resided at the poolside of Thornehill Manor. Her mind was off on a glorious tangent about her rendezvous in the kitchen at two in the morning. Fixing herself a glass of water, when Archie slips his hand into her pyjama shorts, his other around her mouth muffling her needy moans.

The red headed beauty shoved her y/h/c friend playfully, warm skin sweaty under her pale touch. Y/N blinked innocently and sent her an apologetic smile, "What?"

"I asked if you've thought about dating anyone else since Clayton?" The fiery ginger girl enquired with her usual upbeat tone.

Cheryl knew she had a unique quality about her which made it almost impossible for Y/N to lie to her face. The y/h/c girl scrunched up her nose, hiding the smile the idea of Archie Andrews brought to her face. 'Yes. We started off as fuck buddies but never actually fucked. Then I drunkenly asked him to be my boyfriend, now a month later I think we may genuinely work out.'

"Maybe." Y/N bit her bottom lip, listening to her friend's squeal as she squeezed her sun tanned arm.

"I knew it! You have this euphoric glow you only get when someone else makes you climax." The redhead affirmed confidently, watching the Robins girl's eyes bug out before hitting her arm, "Y/N/N, you know your secret's safe with me."

"Fine." She sighed and took a sip of her fruity cocktail, "It started off as just fooling around, honestly I just needed to let off some steam after everything. I knew he was into the kinds of things I was, I mean he used to tease me about it non stop. And it was good, so good I stopped being a pussy and asked him to be my boyfriend."

"Holy freaking hell!" The Blossom girl grinned with excitement, "Dare I ask, who is it?"

Y/N deadpanned at her friend, "Guess."

"Please don't tell me it's that muscular oaf Reggie, he's pretty but there's not exactly much going on upstairs." Cheryl tapped her temples and rolled her eyes at the thought.

"Nope."

The ginger thought for a moment, consulting her liquid courage and splashing her feet around the waters edge, "It's Archie."

All it took was a side-eyed glance at the y/h/c girl's blooming rosy cheeks to know she definitely wasn't wrong. Y/N severely lacked the ability to lie, even if her tone held conviction, her features were far too expressive and told the truth all on their own. It's not like they were hiding it from anyone, but the past four weeks had gone far too quickly without any moments to spare for the world around them. They slept together each night, the majority of that time not actually spent sleeping, but they hadn't been given the chance yet to explore more romantic avenues.

"It's fucking Archie Andrews- you're fucking Archie Andrews and don't you dare deny it." Cheryl gawked in her gorgeous white and nude bikini, watching as her friend lay back against the hot marble slabs which encased the large pool with the largest grin adorning her plump lips.

"We haven't had sex yet, so technically you aren't completely correct." Y/N winked but carried on before the girl exploded with a hundred questions and could never be turned off, "Trust me, I want to, and I'm sure he does too. But you know, it's his first time, I want it to be perfect for him."

"Y/N/N, you really love him, don't you?" Cheryl gagged to begin with, but she found it sweet in truth. She wanted someone to hold, who would hold her right back just as tight for no other reason than needing to.

Y/N sat back up and paddled her feet, "You have no idea, Cher."

Arch 🧡

That new post should be illegal

Tiger 💛

Ooo

I like this reaction

Maybe I should post more

Like this one

Cheryl pushed me in the pool

And I may have had a drink

Or three

Arch 🧡

Well that's sexy

I swear nobody looks good like that how on earth

You're a goddess

But also

How's she holding up?

Tiger 💛

🥺😇

Broken

But she's strong yk

You coming over for dinner?

Arch 🧡

Yeah Y/D invited my dad too

Need me to pick you up from Cheryl's?

Tiger 💛

Awe cute we love a bromance, and it's all good my mommas coming now anyways :))

Hours had elapsed far too fast and soon the summer heat simmered into cool waves of wind brushing over sun kissed skin. Cheryl's arms were clasped around the blonde's shoulders in a tight embrace.

"Thank you so much, Y/N/N, I don't know what I'd do without you!" The Blossom girl professed with sparkling eyes and a brilliant smile.

Y/N beamed up at her, fingers carding through her damp y/h/c hair as she looked over her shoulder to see her mum pulling into the driveway, "You don't need to thank me, Cher, friends look after each other. Message me if you need me, okay?"

Cheryl promised she would and the two teen girls hugged goodbye, with Y/N soon heading home- listening to her mother gossip about Hal and Alice's screaming match last night, Y/N loved her inability to keep her mouth shut sometimes.

"Mom," The y/h/c stopped her mid sentence and received a side eyed glance in response, "I need to tell you something and you're totally not allowed to freak out while you're driving."

Y/M's eyes widened and her grip tightened around the steering wheel, her daughters very rarely confided in her. While she knew her youngest was safe in her promiscuity, neither of Y/M Robins' girls ever shared their secrets so for the most part she took finding out into her own hands.

"Honey," The forty four year old's calm tone was hardly comforting to the teenager, "if this is about you and Archie fooling around, your father and I figured that out a long time ago, like so long ago. Who do you think does your laundry? When your underwear starting looking like dental floss, we caught on pretty quickly."

Y/N felt like a deer in headlights, "Mum, what the hell?" Her cheeks heated to an inhuman temperature.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, as long as you're being safe and he's-"

"For the second time today, and I can't believe I'm saying this to you, but I am not having sex with Archie Andrews!" Y/N's high pitched voice sounded through the car. It truly was a blessing and a curse to have such open minded parents in situations like this. She thought about telling her mother the truth, but Y/M was a blabber mouth as well as a gossip, so Y/N chose to withhold certain pieces of information.

The Robins matriarch dropped the subject but didn't forget about her daughter's tone, and continued to ramble on about how odd she found Penelope Blossom and the whole Blossom family in general. "Like why on Earth is Rose in a wooden wheelchair? They know it's the twenty first century, right?"

As expected, the Robins household was once again filled with warm laughter and copious amounts of food. The topic of Jason was skimmed over, and Y/S found herself away from the dinner table. The eldest Robins sibling was currently pleading with Alice as she began shoving all of Polly's belongings in the boot of Hal's car. She couldn't comprehend life without her best friend, not after losing Jason. They were meant to be going travelling together for a year- working the worst jobs and staying up all night to watch the sun rise in different countries. But instead, Y/S's eyes were blinded by tears as she screamed down the street at the speeding car, with Polly Cooper taken out of her life indefinitely.

Y/N was oblivious to the dark inner workings of the Cooper clan, Betty's knowledge about her and Archie unbeknownst to the loved up teens. She'd spent every second not occupied by her internship trying to justify the romantic act as a fleeting moment of loneliness fuelled by alcohol. She wrote in her diary ideas on how she could win Archie back over, not knowing it was in fact, too late. Betty found herself hopelessly in love with the boy next door, unfortunately for her, the girl across the road was the only one his mind found.

Archie and Y/N washed up while their parents resided to the living room with three glasses and a bottle of white wine. The short girl turned the tap off after placing the last utensil on the draining board, flicking her sudsy hands at the boy's face. "What the-"

She didn't give him a chance to finish that thought, jumping up and wrapping her legs around his torso- planting a kiss onto his lips, then cheeks, then forehead. The two fell entranced by each other, planting pecks across nape of her neck and top of his head.

"Son," Fred's voice called out from the next room and the two immediately pulled apart, hearts beating in their ears, "we're going in a minute."

"Alright." He replied, placing his girlfriend on the floor once more.

"I wish you'd stay." Y/N pouted childishly, she meant the words entirely but hated feeling overbearing. Her life had been turned upside down this summer, it started off with her unable to fall asleep with another person next to her- now Archie's chest was her most comfortable pillow and is arms were the warmest blanket.

"Tomorrow night instead, Princess? I promised my dad I'd spend more time with him before senior year." The boy reasoned, holding her close and unknowingly feeling the exact same way, he adored holding her by her waist and pulling her close under the duvet.

"Monopoly night at yours?" She grinned and he nodded back in reply, the two sharing a final kiss in the kitchen before walking into the hallway.

Y/N felt at ease as she wished the two a goodnight and headed up to bed. She took off her tea dress and replaced it with Archie's bulldog t-shirt, managing to reach the same length on her thighs as her dress did.

Arch 🧡

I can still smell your perfume on my sheets

Tiger 💛

Marking my territory obviously x

Arch 🧡

I love it

Hope you sleep well baby x

Tiger 💛

Call me that tomorrow and we won't be sleeping so you better rest up tonight x

Arch 🧡

Whatever you say, baby x

Tiger 💛

Goodnight x

Arch 🧡

Night princess x

part eight?

wanna be tagged? just send in an ask x

[alldayangst]

lovebug (Tom Holland)

GIF is from gaybuckybarnes here on Tumblr. You can access my masterlist here. This was written for @worldoftom’s lolbrosgetsicktoochallenge. The prompt I had was: ‘Tom self diagnoses himself as sick. He’s got all the symptoms. He’s speechless, over the edge and just breathless. He never thought he’d get hit by the ‘love-bug’ again’. Inspired by the song Lovebug by Jonas Brothers!

A/N: Y/N is an assistant director on Cherry in this fic. This has a lot of Cherry (the movie) references but most are explained if you haven’t seen the film. Such as, it was filmed in Cleveland and Morocco, directed by Joe and Anthony Russo. Some scenes in this fic borrow from the movie & I’ve linked clips from the film if you’d like to listen/watch along. WC: 4K.

“Yeah, Mum, I’ve just got like the sorest throat at the moment.” Nikki’s picture cuts in and out on a scrambled screen on the South side of London, her husband’s hand periodically reaching out for her, rubbing her shoulder, then leaving the frame almost as quickly as it came in. Even through the low quality, the pixels dashing about his screen, Tom can make out his mother’s brows knitting together and can’t remove the feeling of utter guilt when he sees her grow redder and redder out of anger, concern and confusion for her son. “But I’ve got Harry here with me.” Harry waves from behind his brother, his trusty mug swapped for a Phoenix Coffee Cup in his spare hand, just to get a taste of the States.

Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. He barely drinks coffee on the other side of the pond, and would bet good money that an at home PG Tips would beat America’s swankiest coffee joint any day. But now, he’s betrayed his usual routine and his body’s all out of whack and his throat is hoarse, he’s breathless even at times.

Harry shoots his mum a half smile to comfort her, but he doesn’t know what it's like to be a mother, and his and Tom’s mouth both form an ‘O’ when Nikki begins to type so hard her screen jolts and Tom swears she’s put a dent in it. “You know what? I’m going to give them a piece of my mind, Tom! They’re overworking you!” Nikki looks intensely to find her baby boy in drug-addled eyes and his jungle of curls on his newly shaven head. She guesses it becomes easier when Tom pushes his face halfway into the screen and pleads like the child he’ll always be to her, “Please, please Mum! I can’t have any days off. Under any circumstances, I need to finish this film!”

Tom turns to his younger brother for help. “Tell her, Harry!”

And as little brothers do best, Harry spills the beans as soon as Tom’s phone is in clutch. “Tom’s fallen in love with the first A.D., Y/N.”

Nikki immediately loses her frown, knowing how love can knock Tom off his feet and blow all the wind out of him. Tom’s father, Dom, re-enters the frame to match Nikki’s grin. He never misses an opportunity to tease. “Oo, caught a case of the love bug, have you?”

Harry has to whip the phone around to dodge Tom’s protesting arms reaching for it again. “Don’t listen to Harry. I’m not in love. I just like Y/N.”

“A lot.” Harry mutters. Tom’s family doesn’t budge any further, knowing how bad Tom was hurt after his last relationship. They weren't sure when the love bug would come back to bite him again. So after they all shared a knowing look, Harry handed Tom his phone back. “I’ll keep you updated. Bye, Mum.”

It all started five weeks ago. Tom, at 24, was beginning to feel like love was trudging up a high hill he couldn’t come down from, where every beat of heart was feeling like an ache on an open wound.  Tom had yet to meet a lover to prove distance makes the heart grow fonder, finding himself in six month long entanglements and illusions of love before things inevitably went sour.

He’d say, perhaps, you were the closest thing to the real deal. The problem was, he didn’t know if you liked him back.

“When life was beginning, I saw -”

“When life was-”

“When life was be-fuck!”

“When life was beginning, I saw you.”

Tom could make a picture book out of the day he first met you. He remembers how your hair looked that day, the speckles of genuinity in your eyes, how your ear-to-ear smile seemed to be a mirror because every time he saw you from then on, he brandished the same beam. He recalls how his eyes went low as he dropped his script to his lap and stared at your lips, so soft and kissable, as you repeated his words back to him: “When life was beginning, I saw you.” Then you chuckled softly as Tom waited patiently for his head and his heart to return to him.

“I’m sorry. I’m dyslexic. I have a bit of trouble reading.”

“It’s cool, I'm the first A.D. That’s what I’m here for.”

You rubbed your hands on the back of your trousers, your mic jostling in your back pocket as you attempted to rid yourself of your nervous, sweaty palms.

“I’m Y/N.” You reached out for a shake only for Tom to cough loudly into his own hand. 

“Fuck! I’m so sorry! That wasn’t me trying to get out of your handshake. I- I-.” Tom looked at his hand for it had failed him for the first time in his life. His hand that had helped him up during handstands, being his crutch through cartwheels and backflips, but had decidedly run out of luck to be on the receiving end of Tom’s monstrous cough impending a handshake with someone his eyes just couldn’t look away from.

You laugh again. Your laugh sounds like melody, Tom muses. Awestruck, he wishes he could play it again, repeat it like a radio hit and never wash himself of the feeling he got when he heard your laugh for the first time.

“It’s all good. I’ll see you around.” You disappear from his trailer, likely on a venture to your own, when Joe and Anthony block his view of you walking away.

Anthony and Joe take on the ghost of you in Tom’s room, “Tom! The man, the myth and the legend!” Joe comes behind him to rub his newly hairless head. “We’re so glad you agreed to do this movie!” 

“Bummed that you’re not coming to the Browns game tonight, though.” Anthony remarks, throwing a football at Joe who sets it in his lap.

“Harry and I, we’re British, mate. We play football with our feet.”

Joe doesn’t know it then, but his next words are the beginning of the end for Tom. He rubs on his football and looks Tom in his eye when he poses, “It’s a shame ‘cause the whole crew’s going. First day of filming celebrations.”

“The whole crew?”

Anthony mumbles an ‘mhm’ as he picks up a framed photo of Tom and RDJ sitting pretty on Tom’s dresser, posing like father and son.

Tom’s usually self assured when he’s on set, but he’s hesitant to say this next improvised line. His voice trails off as he speaks. “Including Y/N?”

“Y/N?” Joe queries, with a smile that’s half scary and half comforting, and the butterflies in Tom’s stomach are begging him not to fuck this up and suddenly every second a word is not spoken feels like hours have passed and he might have ruined things before they’ve even started, gosh he just met you and-

Tom tries to play it cool. “I don’t- they’re cool.” Tom coughs again. “I mean, I don’t really know them but Y/N seems cool I guess.”

Anthony and Joe smile at each other, scrambling to exit. “Whole crew’s going, baby!” Joe beams.

“Please don’t tell Y/N I asked!” Tom shouts before they’re out of earshot.

“Yeah, yeah. Anthony, go long!”

A few hours later, Tom was sitting next to an unamused Harry, you on his left, foam fingers pointing every which way. 

“Are you a big football fan?” Tom asked, imposter syndrome creeping up on him. He had the best seats in the house, but knew not a thing about this sport he’d come down to watch. Meanwhile, crew and crowd alike sat themselves around you guys, cheering leaving throats raw for days to come and a tussle for a foam finger between Joe and Anthony leading to hundreds of sugary popcorn shells scattered on the stadium floor.

“I mean, I wouldn’t ever turn down the option to look at Odell Beckham Jr. Are you?” you replied.

Tom looked over to his brother who sat with his chin in his hand, lips pulled into a thin straight line as his rusty curls were blown about from the wind of brown and orange flags flown from fans behind him. “We could learn to love it.” Tom flashed you a toothy grin, unsure of where to guide the conversation next. He knew for sure that he wanted to keep talking to you, but his ego began putting up a fight, eager to show himself off if you’d have him in any way. Tom sighed. “Truth is, we have no fucking clue what’s going on.” Tom could hear the commentary about a player reaching the end zone, but they were all just words that went into one ear then came straight out of the other.

You giggled. “I have no idea either. We could make up our own rules if you want.”

Tom likes the way you think. He also likes the way you speak. He loves the way you laugh.

“You have a beautiful laugh.” 

You covered your mouth. “Oh, fuck, I hate my laugh!”

“I’d make you laugh a thousand times if I could.”

You pointed to the jumbo screen as Mayfield made a touchdown, unable to stop laughing from sheer nerves as you felt Tom’s hot, burning haze on you. An advert for Cleveland’s Own Phoenix Coffee flashed on the screen as you spoke. “We’ll make our own rules. Every time we see the quarterback pick up the ball, we’ll cheer.”

By the end of the night, Tom is speechless, breathless and over the edge of his chair in faux excitement and anticipation of the quarterback receiving the ball once again. 

“Another coffee?” The service worker asked.

“Yes please!” You and Tom both say in unison, pumped as the quarterback began circling around to collect the ball in open arms.

The footage of the game is cut abruptly as the camera points to a confused, solo Harry; Anthony and Joe are seen at the edge of the frame whispering suggestively and pointing towards Tom, the camera eventually capturing the superstar who looks back up at his own reflection. Poorly green screened hearts flood the screen and the camera pans to include you in the frame too. Tom looks on in horror when he realises what’s going on and how it could be too late, and turns to you.

“I promise I didn’t know this was going on. We don’t have to.” Tom panics. 

You hear him loud and clear, that you don’t have to, but your heart and eleven thousand people are telling you to kiss him otherwise. “Oh well. We should just do it.” you murmur, the bright pink ‘KISSCAM’ logo flashing in and out.

It doesn’t take more than a moment for the gap between you and Tom to close, for your face to get lost behind his, his lips pressing against yours, eyes closed, trusting each other to share your air. This was probably the first thing that night worth cheering for, howls and whistles erupting around you. 

Tom doesn’t understand American football, but he thinks that the best seats in the house could be anywhere next to you.

Harry’s on the phone to his twin brother, Sam, when you and the rest of the crew make it back to the hotel later on. “-Yeah, and Tom spent half the night with the first A.D. cheering and screaming at fuck all.”

The Cleveland Browns lost that night, but Tom remains none the wiser. He stood in the doorway as Harry continued to relay his day to Sam. “Oh, and Tom, Mum said to give her a call, eavesdropper.” He flicks Tom’s reddening nose before closing the door.

A week and a half later, Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. He never has the time anymore to attend ‘real’ football games back home, and he actually understands the game back in Britain. But now, he’s cheered at almost every given opportunity to impress you stupidly, and his chest and voice is suffering as a consequence.

You and Tom walked onto set with your pinkies intertwined, growing closer and closer by the minute, but Tom doesn’t miss how Ciara’s boyfriend visits set every day for her, doesn’t miss how they rub their nose together in this lovey-dovey affection he wishes he could bestow upon you.

The scene wasn’t working.

The crew was beginning to grow restless and Tom silently became more frustrated as the minutes went by and he was unable to get his lines right. He remembers how a week ago, it felt so easy. You were there to correct him when he stumbled upon his lines and you picked him up so effortlessly, a twinkling smile on your face. But then? Then you were different. Your eyes were scrunched up behind the lens of the camera and you were mumbling something to Anthony about how the sun was due to go down in Ohio soon so you needed to hurry along.

“Alright.” you announced. “Take five!”

And Tom was thankful, Ciara perched upon a swing for the scene they were filming, Tom dwindling the rope of the swing under his finger as her boyfriend approached her once again. “Hey dude, are you okay?”

Ciara looked at Tom with the same concern, hands finding home in her boyfriend’s nest of hair. “Yeah, Tom, are you okay?”

Tom coughed into his hand. “Yeah, guys, I’m good.”

“I think you’re coming down with a nasty cough.” Ciara muttered.

“Yeah. It’s you guys. You’re too cute. You make me sick.” Tom laughed humourlessly for a short while, wanting to be that adorable with someone, maybe not anyone, maybe just with you someday. Then Tom shook his head, a bitter feeling in his throat as he yawned. “It’s the Browns game. I was yelling and screaming every time a quarterback got the ball. Of course I’m a little unwell. I’ll be good as new in a few days though.”

Ciara already knew Tom wasn’t playing a man with the healthiest of habits, but she worried that Tom was getting this bad this early. “Maybe you should talk to the first A.D. about reducing shoot days from five to three?”

Tom didn’t like the prospect of seeing you less. “Yeah.” Harry had a clapperboard between his hands, leading Tom’s eyebrows to furrow as his brother yelled something about it being take 13. “Maybe.” 

Harry resumed to a new position in your chair, with you taking Harry’s place right across from Tom, a coffee waiting for him when the scene was over like Harry always did. Ciara’s boyfriend left the frame to watch supportively on the sidelines.

“Lights. Camera. Action!” Anthony called. “Time is money, you guys! Let’s try to get this one right this time.” 

They’d been over this already twelve times today.

“Hey, I’m really happy you’re here.”

Ciara read her line back. “Why’s that?” 

Tom could hear whispers of the crew, the sound guy glaring at them in case they were picked up in the scene, and he knew it had something to do with the fact that he couldn’t for some reason get the next line out all day. And that reason, unbeknownst to everyone, was because Tom couldn’t say something he didn’t mean - feeling like his heart was locked in a cage for which only you had the key. He looked past his co-star, Ciara, and up at you; feeling so close but you were far away, leaving him all day without anything to say. And overcoming his speechlessness and breathlessness, even in just that moment, he ran his hand over the rope to say, “Cause I like you. A lot.”

Ciara and the rest of the crew broke into a wide smile once Tom finally spoke his next line, but the only person Tom was focused on was you, who wasn’t smiling, but mouthing his words back to him.

Ciara breathed, “Shut up.”

And Tom’s sure to look you in the eye when he says, “I really do.”

When the filming for the day is said and done, Tom makes a beeline for you across the greenery. You hand over his coffee to him, “It’s a little cold now, but a warm hand is holding it.”

Tom quirks an eyebrow. “Are you inviting me to hold your hand?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“You swapped jobs with Harry, I saw.”

“Yeah, well. It’s good he gets to grips with the job now. You know, in case anything changes.” You pulled your phone out of your pocket. “I should probably give you my number. In case anything changes.”

“Oh no, yeah. Your number is?”

“216-XXX-XXX. Speaking of changes, I heard you’re trying to get your days reduced.”

“You were eavesdropping?” Tom looks at your face that bears no trace of guilt. “You’re just like me!” He pulls you close.

“Tom, if what happened today is because you’re working too much, I’m happy to reduce your time.”

“Nah, nah.” Tom sniffles, rubbing his nose on a jacket probably worth more than your life. “I’m just a bit sick, s’all. I’ll be fine.”

Two weeks pass and Tom’s no better. With the Cleveland game nearly a month ago, Tom has nothing to blame and as first A.D., you’re obligated to reduce his hours. Tom’s on the phone with his mother when you approach his trailer. 

“Don’t listen to Harry. I’m not in love. I just like Y/N.”

“A lot. I’ll keep you updated. Bye, Mum.” 

You’re so quick to skip happily back to your trailer that you miss Harry calling out to his brother, he’s his protector now that his mother was countries apart. “Tom?” Harry starts.

Tom mumbles an ‘mhm’, hoping Harry would make it quick as he sees you FaceTiming him. If only his mother could see him like this. He’d get to call her tomorrow and tell her he’d called you for the first time yesterday, he could hardly wait to utter, 'I've finally found the missing part of me’. Harry sighs as the FaceTime ringing is relentless. Tom’s eyebrows threaten to meet in the middle of his face as he clutches onto his phone.

“Tom.” Harry begins. “Y/N is giving up assistant director.”

Tom’s really not sure where Harry gets the source of his information from, but he’s sure this isn’t true. He thinks you’d tell him before his brother if you were leaving the film behind, leaving him behind.

The film is due to move filming to Morocco soon, and Tom’s well aware that not all film crew joins them when production moves abroad, but to Tom, you’re an extension of this movie universe. And Tom refuses to leave the memories of you in this filming cycle. “How’d you know?”

“I’m taking over.” Tom’s screen lights up with the glow of your call, and as bright as it is, as bright as you are, as bright as your smile surely is on the other end of the phone call, Tom’s in his deepest darkest feelings wondering how he fooled himself into thinking romance could go right for him this time. 

He’s going to Morocco. You’re not. You’re funny, smart, promising, beautiful. You’ll find someone good for you, a better pair by the time he’s back.

“That doesn’t mean it won’t work out, man.” Tom sulks in his bed, the light from your constant calls bleeding through his bed sheets. “I just wanted to warn you.” Tom nods, screaming into his pillow. Harry decides that’s his cue to leave, a glimmer of light from outside seeping through the crack of the door as Harry escorts himself. Tom musters all his might and courage to reluctantly answer your phone, the ear-to-ear grin he knows so well greeting him once again.

Suddenly, he forgot how to speak. Hopeless, breathless, couldn’t you see that?

“Tom?” You call out his name a few times before cutting straight to the point. “Do you like me?”

Tom shifts slightly but not enough to show that he’s alarmed. “Huh? Yeah, I like you.”

He sits up, but doesn’t reciprocate the outrageous smile you wear like a heart on your sleeve. Tom’s eyes are sunken, dark circles forming under his eyes where he and his disturbed character become one. You suddenly remember why you shouldn’t have run away so fast, perhaps Tom was overworking himself. He continues, “But I’m an emotionally unavailable hopeless romantic. So I wouldn’t waste your time on me.”

Tom can’t help the hurt in his heart when he sees your smile drop so suddenly, knowing it was earnest. “Tom, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, life is unfair. And I’m gonna quit while I’m ahead. We wouldn’t work out. And I like our friendship now. We should stay that way.”

You’re not convincing when you nod rapidly, not letting Tom see your face as you play with your fingers to avoid his gaze. “Yeah, I agree.” You’re much less convincing when the last frame Tom caught of you was a shot of tears dripping down your face, as three rings followed you. Tom’s screen went black in your absence, and Tom falls asleep with eyes even redder from crying, and he wonders when he’s gonna shake this sickness.

It’d been a few days since Tom had got his shots to allow him to go to Morocco. He sat opposite the doctor on set, a coffee cup placed on the desk between him.

Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. Shots always have their side effects, and he’d taken multiple shots in one day. And now, he specifically asked for you to hold his hand during the process, Harry branded in a glinting jaw-drop, only for you to leave directly after. 

“I’m speechless, constantly feeling over the edge, breathless.” Tom explains his symptoms to the doctor. “At first I thought it was because of that stupid football game, then all the coffee I’m drinking, now I don’t know if it’s the shots. I feel like shit, doc.”

“I know exactly what you’re dealing with.”

“What?”

“Lovebug.”

Tom stares at the doctor in utter bewilderment. “You figured that out based on my symptoms?”

“I figured that out based on the puppy dog eyes you gave for your first A.D. when they left without a word.” The doctor begins to laugh softly, but Tom is unamused. How is he supposed to shake this illness after completely ruining your relationship? How is he supposed to mend your bond after talking so recklessly, so emotionally? “Tom, I’m not here to be a fairy godmother, I’m being strictly medical. At a certain point, what you feel in your mind affects your body. So I prescribe that you talk to Y/N and say everything you need to say.”

And while that seemed easy enough, Tom’s ego was at work again, and Tom was feeling far too bruised and wounded to speak to you first. Surely if you cared enough, if you liked him back, if you were willing to be distanced, you would reach out first.

It seems Tom’s pride had forgotten that you already did.

“I heard that this is the exact shit that happened in Cleveland, and he couldn’t get the line out.” Tom hears the whisperings from behind the camera, the amount of familiar faces in the crew dwindling after the change in location. He doesn’t respond. He waits for someone to take five. And when no one throws him a bone, he asks Harry to.

“Alright, everyone take five.”

“Someone get this kid a fucking coffee, he’s always on edge.” Joe instructs.

“And you think giving a kid in twenties coffee is taking him off edge?” Anthony chuckles.

Tom doesn’t care whether or not he gets the coffee, rocking side to side. He’s got all the motion for this role, but he feels nothing. All he felt was for you.

“Here.” Harry sets a Moroccan mint tea down next to Tom, hoping it would calm him down. When Tom takes a few sips, the look in his eyes is less pleading, and everyone’s ready to rumble, this being the last scene of the day.

Harry feeds Tom the line. “Baby, are you seeing bad things?” Tom is seeing bad things. A life without love, a life without you. Unable to contain it all, Tom turns his frustration into laughter. “Why are you calling me baby for, man?” Tom has this ear-to-ear grin but even he feels it's not as innocent, as genuine as yours. He never knew a smile so wide could be so full of pain.

“I have an idea.” Harry saunters off to collect his phone. “Don’t stop rolling the cameras.”

When Harry comes back, there’s sounds of shifting erupting from his phone. “Hi, Tom.” 

Tom didn’t know it would be so bittersweet to hear your voice again. He wasn’t sure if he should put walls up again or if twice was the charm. Even if you worked out in the short term, whose to say Tom wouldn’t get hurt again? And Tom wouldn’t want to hurt you.

“Are they taking good care of you out there? I don’t think I took good care of you.” Tom doesn’t say anything on the other side of the line, so you continue. “I’m not a good A.D. if you’re always sick and tired, and I didn’t want to see you any less, which was selfish of me, so I didn’t change your schedule.” You sigh as you admit why you left. “When you asked, though, I swear I was gonna do it, but then I heard you liked me, and I got carried away. I had to remove myself from the situation to do what’s best for you. Do you understand me? I did it for you.”

“I, uh, I got a diagnosis.” Tom stumbles.

“Oh my gosh, are you seriously sick?”

“I’m speechless. Over the edge, breathless.” Tom laughed dryly, finally feeling like he can choose an ending.

“What did they say it was?”

“Lovebug.” Harry smiles softly at his brother.

Your laugh is like nectar entering Tom’s ear.

“I might just love you way too much, Y/N.”

“Are you sure you’re doin’ okay?” Tom tries his best not to sound dejected that you didn’t say it back, knowing he’s already felt the brunt of this heartache already.

“I just miss you, that’s all.”

“I miss you too. I love you.” Joe stops recording, and Harry lowly whispers ‘take.fucking.five.’ as he and the crew creep away from Tom’s new found love scene. 

“Anthony, can I borrow your phone?” Harry begins to type Nikki’s number as soon as Anthony gives over the phone. “Mum, Tom just told the first A.D. he’s in love with them so guess who’s out of a job?”

Tom knows why he’s sick. He used to feel like love was trudging up a high hill he couldn’t come down from, where every beat of heart was feeling like an ache on an open wound. Tom had yet to meet a lover to prove distance makes the heart grow fonder, finding himself in six month long entanglements and illusions of love before things inevitably went sour. But now, Tom has found you.

[brutal-nemesis]

Forest Day 2021: Un-cursing a Forest Tutorial (Gone Wrong)

Come into the woods with me, won’t you? I promise everything will be super normal and it’s totally not a little over 5k words hahahahahaha

Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: cannibalism mention, plant/animal/body horror (there is a lot of this and it is weird and kind of gross at times so this is your warning), acid burns, i use the word “pustules” multiple times, eye whump, gore, suicide for convenience

Castys woke up to darkness.

His head was pounding, so it was sort of nice, but much less nice when he tried to move and discovered his arms were tied behind his back. Upon further investigation, he realized he was gagged and blindfolded as well. 

Great.

He sat up and was just starting to try and get his gag out using his shoulder when a pair of hands grabbed him and hauled him to his feet. He tried to jerk out of their grasp, but a second person grabbed his other arm, and then it was all he could do to keep up as they hauled him to wherever. The ground changed from something solid feeling to something dirt-sounding, and then solid again after the creak of a door opening. 

“He’s awake, Chief.”

“Thank you. Just leave him and wait outside.” One of the men kicked the back of Castys’s legs, forcing him to his knees. He was tempted to get up once he felt their hands leave him, but he figured it would be best to just wait and see what the hell was going on for now. Once the blindfold was removed, he tried to look around, but a rough hand grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up at his captor, a strong looking woman with her dark hair in a complicated braid. She examined him with concern. “I didn’t think you would look this young.” Her free hand untied the gag, and she gently pulled it out of his mouth. “You are him, and not just some child, right?”

“Nope, just a child. A nineteen year old boy. Not immortal, so I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I never said I was looking for an immortal.”

Castys opened and closed his mouth a few times, blinking. “I-okay that one’s on me. Hooray, you caught me.” He glared up at her. “Now what do you want?”

She let go of him, stepping back and crossing her arms. “I am Citlali, the chief of Nauhiliv’s Hollow. For centuries, my people have-”

“I’m not really in the mood for a history lesson, so just get to the-”

“Either shut up and let me talk or I will gag you again.” Castys rolled his eyes. “I promise it’s relevant, alright?”

“Fine.”

Citlali took a deep breath and began again. “For centuries, the people of Nauhiliv’s Hollow have lived as one with the forest, taking only what we need from its bounty, hunting and gathering from the lands around us. But now,” she looked away, “now the forest is...twisted. What was once a familiar place has become dark and horrifying, and they are now far too dangerous to hunt in. Everyone we have sent in to find the source of the curse has not yet returned.” She took a shuddering breath before looking back at Castys. “You, however, can’t die. So would you-”

“How much will you pay me?”

“Just...this.” She held up a small leather pouch, one that looked kind of like...Castys hurriedly looked down, feeling his stomach twist when he didn’t see the familiar string around his neck.

“You took my-give it back! How did you even find out about that?!” Castys fought to keep his voice even, his fists clenched behind him. That pouch was important to him, it had his rock that allowed him to kill himself easily and painlessly, and it also had...he just needed it, dammit.

“You’re apparently, ah, quite chatty when you’re drunk.” She twirled the pouch on her finger lazily. “So, if you lift the forest’s curse, you’ll get it back. And until then, my other half is going to keep it safe in a pocket dimension, where even a notorious thief like you can’t get to it.”

Castys’s face darkened. “That’s-if you wanted me to help you why didn’t you just, I don’t know, ask instead of fucking kidnapping me and stealing my shit?”

“Because I’ve heard tell that you’re a selfish asshole who definitely wouldn’t help us unless we paid you a ton of money or forced you to. And since we’re not exactly drowning in cash…”

Castys mulled it over for a moment, wiggling his hands against the ropes. “Yeah okay that’s fair. I still hate you, but that’s fair.”

Citlali rolled her eyes. “Are you going to do it, then? Because if not,” she stalked over and grabbed Castys’s chin tightly, forcing him to look up at her, “I could think of a different way you could help my people, immortal.”

“I promise you, I taste terrible.” Citlali flinched back, letting go of Castys’s face.

“What-no that isn’t-I meant I was going to sell you, idiot! That’s so-we’re nowhere near desperate enough to eat…” she shook her head. 

“Okay, sorry, I figured if you were desperate enough to kidnap me you were also desperate enough to want to eat me and my infinite flesh.”

“Those two are absolutely not the same level of-look, are you going to do it or not? Because if not I will sell you and keep your precious-” 

“I’ll go kill your stupid forest curse thing,” Castys sighed. “Being sold is super annoying, and escaping will be way harder without my rock.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “Can you untie me now?” 

“Do you promise not to try to run off? You won’t be able to get your pouch back by force, and this village is surrounded by these cursed woods except for a single, well guarded road, so there really won’t be any point in trying, anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Castys got to his feet after she freed him, rubbing his chafed wrists as he looked down at his very empty belt. “You’re going to give me my sword back for this, right? I know I can’t die but fuck if I’m going in there without a weapon.”

“You can have your sword, and the small amount of supplies we can spare, once the sun rises and you set out. Until then,” she gestured to the door, “let Tlaloc and Meztli show you where you can sleep.” 

~~~

Castys took a deep breath as he looked up at the trees towering over him, gripping his pack tightly. They looked like normal trees to him, and he was sort of disappointed that they didn’t look...creepier? He expected this horrible cursed forest to look more horrible and cursed, especially with all the trouble that bitch went through to make him do this. He glanced back, but Citlali and the guards were still behind him, and she waved her hand at him to get going. Sighing, he started walking into the forest, hoping this whole “curse” thing was just some asshole wizard kids playing a trick. 

Soon enough, he spaced out listening to the forest sounds. The rustling of the wind in the branches, the chirping of birds, the faint screaming...wait what. No, yeah that was screaming or something. He looked around frantically for the source of it, just now noticing that the trees were...different, somehow. They sort of...shimmered, moving in a strange way. Cautiously, he approached the nearest trunk and studied it. It was...it was moving, the whole surface shifting and crawling, like it was covered completely in bugs. O-kay then. 

Moving on.

Castys wasn’t even sure what he was supposed to look for. That chief lady had really just sent him in here with the very helpful instruction of “fix it”, like he had ever un-cursed a forest before. He didn’t know where he was supposed to go, or...where he even was. He’d been trying to walk in a straight line, but the way behind him looked unfamiliar, as if the trees and plants had decided to move around while he wasn’t looking. Well, it appeared that wandering aimlessly was his only option now. Delightful.

Maybe he should do something as he walked along to help pass the time. Not that he didn’t mind walking around in nature, this place was just...he pulled out his rekara, twirling it between his fingers for a moment before putting it to his lips and blowing, tapping his fingers on the slender instrument’s holes to play a stupid little tune. It covered up the faint screaming sound quite nicely, and it eventually attracted a little bird, which fluttered down on a nearby branch. It was a very normal-looking one, with plain brown feathers and cute lil’ eyes.

When it opened its mouth to chirp at him, though, another scream rang out through the forest, so loud it sounded like it was coming from right next to Castys. Startled, he jumped a bit, stumbling back and tripping over a tree root or something, falling right on his ass. Frantically, he looked around for the source of the scream, but there was no one around him, as far as he could tell. “Anyone screaming out there?!” he called as he stood up, but he was met with silence. Well, not silence silence but just...nothing un-ambient. Maybe the trees were screaming. It could be a tree thing. 

The bird was still sitting there staring at him, and oh my fuck it’s the bird isn’t it-again, the bird opened its beak, and again, a horrible scream echoed around him. Well wasn’t that nice. A bird that screamed like a person. Castys slowly backed away, hoping the little thing’s only weird quality was the noise it made. Once he felt like he’d gotten far enough away, he turned and ran, and he was only running to cover more ground quickly, not because he was scared, no, a little unsettled, maybe, but not scared. 

He stopped to catch his breath after a few minutes, and as he stood there panting, he realized the forest around him had grown even more...strange. The trees actively waved in the air now, though there was no wind, and many of their branches hung limp, like they were made of cloth or something and not solid wood. Their bark still glistened and crawled, swirling into strange, mesmerizing patterns. The leaves of all the plants were different now, too, having taken on a sickly pink color, almost like...light-colored skin. Tasty.

Okay, yeah, something was obviously very wrong and cursed here, but he still had no clue what the fuck to do about it. He’s been hoping he could find...he didn’t know, something that looked like the source of it, like a very giant tree with a hole in it or perhaps a big magic crystal or an evil bear. But all around him were just normal sized haunted trees and no crystals and weird greenish mold and all the plants with their gross fleshy leaves-wait that mold or whatever was new. He crouched down and pulled out his knife so he could poke at it.

Upon closer inspection, it was like...little green pustules clustered together on the surface of the shifting tree bark. He used the tip of his knife to prod one of them, but it burst far more easily than he had been expecting, splattering greenish goop all over his hand, and it burned. Crying out, he dropped his knife and looked frantically around for water or something he could use to get this awful stuff off because dying wouldn’t make it go away so until he got rid of it somehow he was just stuck feeling it burn away his fucking flesh but there wasn’t anything here besides plants and more plants so it looks like that was all he was going to get-

With shaking hands, he grabbed a nearby leaf, shuddering at the fleshlike texture, the warmth, and wiped it desperately over his wounds, trying to scrape away the acidic sludge. It sort of worked, getting the larger clumps off, but he could still feel it eating his damn flesh, if only he had-wait he was a fucking idiot-he pulled out the waterskin Citlali had lent him, sloppily splashing water over his hand, gasping in relief as the pain lessened slightly. Obviously nothing was going to heal the wounds besides dying, but now he could actually do that without the acid continuing to burn him. He reached down into his shirt, feeling for the pouch containing his death rock, but...no, that’s right, he didn’t have it, he’d have to slit his throat like old times. Sighing, he wiped the acid goop off of his knife before turning it on himself.

Castys woke up very pleased to find that his hand no longer had holes in it, but when he saw the leaves he had wiped it on, his stomach twisted. The acid had burned right through them, and the holes were rimmed with red, dripping...it was blood, blood leaking from those fleshlike leaves. Quickly, Castys wiped off his knife and sheathed it, getting to his feet, ready to run the fuck away from those gross acid pustules. But...maybe it was a good sign that things were getting weirder, maybe he was getting closer to whatever the hell the source of all this was. So maybe he should…follow that stuff. It was the only sort of idea on where to go he had gotten this whole time, so it really was his only option, huh? He’d just have to be careful not to touch it. 

The streaks of green on the swirling tree trunks, which had darkened to a shiny black at some point, led him, allegedly, deeper into the forest. Wait, how was the green stuff staying in one spot while the trunk beneath it was shifting? That didn’t make any sense, not like anything did here, but still…physics. He studied the nearest tree for a moment, watching its surface move as the clump of acid bubble things stayed still. Though...he could see something between the cracks in the crawling trunk, something long and off-white, like...yup. Trees with bones. Lovely. Shaking his head, Castys resumed walking, deciding to just not question anything ever again. 

Things certainly got stranger as he continued. There was a pond where his reflection didn’t have a face, dragonflies with wings that looked like overgrown fingernails, and a herd of deer with skin and muscle so clear that all he could see were their organs and bones okay but what would clear deer meat taste like, so he felt like he was probably going the right way. When he heard a strange thumping sound, like something large walking around, he cautiously moved towards the source of it, poking his head out from behind a tree to see what it was. 

It was the ugliest, most disgusting horrible abomination creature thing he had ever seen. It’s main body was the same light fleshy color as the leaves, dotted with clumps of acid pustules, with a mishmash of vaguely humanoid limbs with all sorts of skin tones jutting out of its misshapen body every which way. And it had so many eyes all over, some frantically darting around, some focused horrifyingly on him. But the worst part were all the flowers sprouting it from it, not because they were flowers, but because these flowers had little white teeth in their centers, probably serving as the mouths for this thing since he didn’t see one anywhere else on it. Honestly, he wouldn’t mind cutting this thing to bits in the slightest, it was freaky. He stepped out and drew his sword, watching the monster warily as it shambled towards him. If this thing wasn’t the source of the curse, he didn’t know what would be.

Once it was within range, Castys slashed at it, wincing as a high pitched shriek rang out from one of the flower-mouths. He danced back as it swung at him with two of its arms, their hands reaching out to grab him. This kept on for a bit, him slashing at the monster and dodging its blows, though he’d occasionally make the mistake of slicing a clump of acid pustules, spraying himself with the corrosive substance. When he stopped for a moment to catch his breath, he noticed something...unfortunate. All the gashes he’d cut in the monster were slowly closing, healing that thing up like his attacks hadn’t even happened. He, on the other hand, was covered in acid burns and not sure how much longer he’d actually be faster than this thing. His healing was useless in a fight, since dying left him completely defenseless for a good minute or so.

He had to figure something else out some other-shit, he couldn’t stand still for very long, this monster just wouldn’t quit attacking him. He might have been safe in a tree, but all the ones in the area were pretty much completely covered in that acid stuff, so that was out of the question. Seeing an opening, he lunged, trying to stab one of those fucked up mouths, and he couldn’t help but feel a spark of relief as his blade sank in, knocking out some of its teeth. But his elation turned to fear as he felt something grab his ankle the same moment the mouth clamped shut around his sword. He tried his best to keep his grip on his sword as it yanked him up, but it slipped through his fingers, leaving him defenseless as the monster slammed him down onto the ground, his whole body lighting up in pain. 

Over and over, it smashed his body against the ground with inhuman strength. All Castys could do was scream as he felt his bones break, their sharp edges piercing him from the inside. To finish, it threw him against one of the trees, the impact of his body bursting a myriad of acid pustules open, drenching him in the stuff. Castys fell to the ground in a heap, sucking in pained breaths beneath his shattered ribs, and all he could do was helplessly watch through his one good eye, the other reduced to goop by the acid, as the monster raised a foot above him. His mind was screaming at him to go, to run, but he could hardly move, he should just let himself die so he could heal, but he didn’t want to, he didn’t want to just lie still and let this thing step on him, slowly building up the pressure on his already ruined ribcage, forcing ragged screams out of his acid-burned throat, he was going to be crushed but he didn’t want to be, g-get off please it hurts so much why do I have to do this it’s not fair I didn’t even do anything wrong this time please-

Castys came back to pain, sparking, burning agony soaking deep into his flesh. He was still covered in acid, and even with his bones intact now he could barely bring himself to move. But he had to, he had to get up, he had to kill this thing, had to get out of this awful place himself, because there was no other way out, because no one was going to come save him, not now, not ever. Just as he was psyching himself up to try and stand, the monster’s hands grabbed him all over, dragging him off the ground. He tried to squirm out of its grasp, and while it had too many damn hands and he had too many damn acid burns for this to actually be effective, he struggled anyway. As it lowered him towards one of its flower mouths, he tried to at least scream expletives at it, but of course he’d still had acid in his throat when he died so he couldn’t even relish the simple joy of yelling “fuck”.

What would happen to him if this gross monster ate him whole, he didn’t want to find out, but it seemed like he was going to if he didn’t break free. Castys shuddered as the mouth opened wide, wider, impossibly wide, showing off an unnecessary amount of wicked sharp teeth, and oh fuck they were a lot closer to him than he’d thought because his damn left eye was a corroded mess again and all of a sudden there were teeth tearing through his flesh and he was falling, falling into that horrible mouth surrounded by bright purple petals, pointed teeth digging into him, but he felt something, he felt something, hard and rough, and maybe it was his sword, and he could still kill this thing, so he wrapped his burned hand around it, fingers screaming in protest, and pulled, and as much as it hurt, as much as his sword was stuck, he wasn’t going to lose here.

His sword finally broke free with a disgusting squelch, though it felt a lot lighter than he remembered, and just as he pulled it out, the monster collapsed to the ground. Castys somehow managed to worm his tattered body out of the creature’s mouth, and once he was free, he held up his sword so he could stab himself with it, but discovered the object he was holding was very much not his sword. It was a strange wooden carving of a twisted tree, like ones surrounding him, a small bone fitted so snugly inside that it was almost as if the wood had grown around it. Was this...the source of everything? It was the most curse-causing looking thing he’d seen so far, and given that it seemed to be the core of that monster...oh, it was starting to grow flesh. Oh absolutely not.

Castys looked around frantically for his sword, his dagger, anything to break this talisman thing with. The first thing that caught his eye within reach was an unfamiliar axe, but he lunged for it, wishing he had time to kill himself and reset his body’s condition, but there was no telling how much this thing would grow while he was out. If he wanted a chance at ending this for good, he had to do it now. He rasped in pain as he dragged himself upright, grabbing the axe with blood-slicked fingers before he set the cursed object down and swung, crying out brokenly in pain and frustration. After a few clumsy whacks, the talisman broke in two, and the flesh bubbling out of it ceased moving. Was...was it over? It had to be. It had to be. It had to-

Head spinning, Castys fell sideways, the vision in his functional eye starting to blur. He knew he needed...to die...but he just...didn’t have...the...strength…

It was warm...comfortable...but it hurt, and...everything was...itchy. But still, so warm, and that was pleasant, and he found himself leaning into it. It was almost like...

Castys jolted awake, his eye snapping open. He was inside some building, the wooden ceiling above him lit by rippling firelight, in what felt like a bed, his whole body throbbing fiercely, and there was...a hand on his forehead. A hand attached to the village chief, Citlali, who was looking at him with concern. Her face broke into a relieved smile when she saw he was conscious, despite him flinching away from her touch. “So, our hero is finally awake.”

“I-” Castys tried to speak, but his throat was still severely fucked up, in fact, his whole body was. He hadn’t fucking died since he’d passed out, and these idiots didn’t know how his immortality worked, so they’d actually bandaged him up. The feeling of them was totally foreign, if not a little nostalgic. God, he must have looked fucking awful when they found him. He hoped it would make them think twice about kidnapping people to do their dirty work in the future. 

“Don’t try to speak; your throat is quite badly damaged. Do you want something to write on?” Castys nodded, and she fetched him a wooden tablet and a stick of charcoal. He considered writing something on the angrier side, but seeing as he still didn’t have his pouch back, and that she had tried to help him...he should probably play nice. He was too tired for any more fighting, anyway.

“If you’d just kill me so I can heal that would be great.” Pausing, he decided he should probably explain that a bit better. “Every time I die I come back to life fully healed. And the most convenient way for me to die is to touch my rock, which I believe I’ve earned back. Unless the forest is still wonky.”

“No, you did break the curse, and I want to thank you for that, because obviously it wasn’t easy. I-” she cut herself off. “First things first, let’s get you healed for good.” She furrowed her brow. “Will healing with these bandages on...mess it up somehow? Some of them might be a little...stuck to your wounds. Should I take them off of you first?” Castys considered it for a moment. He’d never tried to heal with bandages on, but if things went wrong...it might be more painful to have to cut them out of his flesh or whatever. He nodded, holding out an arm.

Citlali was gentle as she unwound the bandages with practiced skill, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt like hell. It felt like she was ripping his damn skin off, and every time his idiot body tried to scream in pain, it tore up his throat even further, making the whole affair even more damnably unpleasant. He could hardly stand to look at the wounds underneath, all pink and red and oozing what he assumed was pus. The worst part, however, was when she removed the bandage from around the remains of his left eye and it pulled a little string of bloody flesh off with it. He screamed at that, really screamed, and he realized he was crying, and he didn’t understand how mortals did this all the time. Citlali didn’t so much as flinch at the gore, the smell, or his pain, and he almost felt embarrassed about how poorly he was handling this.

When she was done, she retrieved his pouch from a nearby table, giving it to him wordlessly. With shaking hands, Castys managed to pull it open and stick a finger inside, sighing in relief as the familiar blackness took him. When he woke up, he was happy to find that there wasn’t any more acid on him, so he was actually fully healed this time. “Thanks,” he muttered, flexing his hands.

“Thank you, you really saved us. I...I know you were forced to, and I know that I shouldn’t have done it that way, but I felt like we didn’t have any other option, and-”

“It’s fine,” Castys sighed, waving a hand dismissively. “That shit was pretty fucked up so I’m not really surprised all the mortals you sent in died. And it’s not like I’m known for my benevolence.” He put the pouch around his neck, where it thumped against his bare chest. “So, did my clothes-”

Citlali shook her head. “They were full of holes and covered in acid, so we asked around and got you a spare set.” She handed him a folded shirt that was similar in style to the pants he’d been wearing when he woke up, and he pulled it on. She handed him the rest of his belongings before picking up the pieces of the wooden carving that he’d destroyed. “Where...where did you find this?” 

“Inside the freaky monster with all the limbs and shit.”

“The what.”

“Was its giant corpse not near where you found me?”

“There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary there besides this and some of the weapons and equipment from our lost expedition parties.” She put it down, standing and crossing her arms. “We all felt the shift in the forest when the curse was lifted, and when we went out to investigate, everything seemed just like it had before all of this started. We found you collapsed in a clearing not too far from here.”

“Not too-I feel like I wandered around for hours! Stupid cursed forest.”

Citlali huffed. “Regardless, we found the talisman next to you, but no monster. But if this was what caused everything…” She picked up one of the pieces, gripping it tightly. “I think I understand what happened.”

“That’s great for you, don’t let it happen again.” Castys stood, shouldering his pack. “I...I can leave now, right?”

She looked up abruptly. “Oh, uh, yes, though you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, and we were thinking of holding a feast once we-” she stopped, clearing her throat. “We’d like to make it up to you in any way you can, but I understand if you’d like to leave. I’ll walk you out.”

Part of Castys wanted to stay and get a bunch of free food out of these people, or at least actual compensation for the ordeal he just went through, but he didn’t know if he could stand to be surrounded by these woods for much longer, despite the fact that they were allegedly no longer cursed. He couldn’t fight the nervous feeling in his stomach as walked away, his steps quickening once he and Citlali parted ways. He didn’t really relax until he had left the forest far behind him. 

Once he was safe, Castys opened his pouch and reached inside, worming his finger into the secret side pocket that was separated from the rock. He gently pulled out the piece of paper, unfolding it and sighing in relief upon seeing the drawing on it still intact. Not that he’d expected anything to happen to it, but…The memory of the first day of his life, at least that he was aware of, was far more precious than anything else.

Because if he lost it, if he lost that spark of happiness, that piece of who he was that day, he felt like he would collapse under the weight of every awful thing he’d endured ever since.

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump​ @blackrosesandwhump​ @fanmanga1357-blog​​ @thehopelessopus​ @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi​ @hearse-song​ @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen​​ @galaxywhump​ @starnight-whump​ @his-unspoken-words​ @misspelledwitch

[ashdreams2023]

Hello!, I hope your day/night is going well <3, I saw that you do matchups for encanto and I was hoping to receive one!, Ofc I completely understand if you never get to this but if I do something wrong and you still want to do it feel free to message me and I will correct whatever I did wrong in requesting! // I did read the regulations but I don't trust myself not to make a mistake xD // anyways info below!

To start off there's no character that I'm not fine with that's around my age of course!

I am a 16 year old, infp, Leo, who uses she they pronouns and identifies as a demigirl/omni romantic and asexual, meaning for me at least that I only have interest in the romance aspect of relationships but can develop romantic feelings for anyone no matter orientation :) although I do more so lean towards feminine presenting individuals if I am being honest

Looks wise I have a bit of a pale complexion, many beauty marks, I wear glasses as I am blind without them XD, I am 5'4 and to describe my body type I would as being a bit on the pudgier/chubby side, my hair is naturally dark brown just like my eyes however I have dyed it a shade of pink excluding the Roots and it is quite messy most of the time and hard to brush out being long and frizzy hbjhbjv, now to describe my clothing style I would say that if I had a choice I would dress in pink all the time lmao, it's my favorite color ever and I love dresses and just anything frilly/light

Now when it comes to my personality I would describe myself as being a bit timid and more on the quiet side as I get really anxious when around new people, and or just being in places where I am not used to being, and it takes me awhile to open up to someone if I'm being honest although if they are kind and I am comfortable enough thenmn I start to then I tend to become a bit of a chatterbox pfft, but that's just the shyness aspect, when it comes to me being timid I mean I'm going to be honest I can be a bit cowardly at times when it comes to standing up for myself as I really like to avoid conflict if possible and often can be a bit of a doormat, I know that the world can be a very judgmental and hard place so I just try to bring some positivity into it whatever I can tbh, I know that sounds self righteous saying that but it's true I mean I just don't see the point in being mean to people if they haven't done anything to provoke it

Some extra traits about me is just I can be a huge clutch like I fall over air 💀, I can also be a tad bit absent-minded/oblivious as I tend to be in my own little world, and will sometimes have to be told something twice in order for it to get through, I also tend to apologize too much lmao, to the point where I think it's kind of annoying, I do also have a bit of a stutter which I really don't like Pfff

But lastly onto my hobbies/likes and dislikes! <3

To start off with what I enjoy doing activity wise I absolutely love anything fantasy, especially books and just getting lost in the fictional world and things like that, honestly I feel like if I was in the world of encanto their magic and abilities would just fascinate me but I would be much too shy to actually approach them lol, I also really enjoy quality time with people that I care about as the way that I show I care is doing things with them and just being around, oh-!-I should have said this before that but I also really like writing my own stories and sharing ideas with others about them it's so much fun to me!,

Likes and dislikes for me would probably include

Likes: nature, calm and quiet situations, alone time // I'm an introvert//, those who respect my boundaries, kind individuals!, The color pink, soft things, stories/legends

Dislikes: The dark, Bugs, hateful people, bully's/antagonistic people, loud areas, being over stimulated, my speach impediment, talking in front of others

Anddddd that's all I can think of for now and I'm so sorry if this was too long!- have a lovely day/night! <33

Mirabel

She thinks your beauty marks are the cutest thing EVER

She would definitely pinch your cheeks when you do something cute

When she finds out you love the color pink she makes sure it’s the theme for every handmade gift she makes for you

She’s very social and would try her best to introduce you to family and friends to make you feel welcomed and feel less timid

I can see her carrying treats her mama made just in case you get hurt

Mirabel would understand your admiration for magic and tries to show you as much of it as possible

She would read your stories if you allowed her

She looks at you with the softest of eyes when you open up and just be yourself

[vldkeith]

Blackbirds

submitted by our beloved klance day!

The mission wasn’t supposed to take this long, let alone be this dangerous. It’ll be a quick two hour tops mission, Lance. You won’t have to be with Keith for that long, Lance recalls Pidge groaning. He remembers it all so clearly. All the paladins, Allura, and Coran standing in the Catsleship’s bridge, planning their next mission to gather intel on newer planets and species that may have evolved in the past 10,000 years. The group had decided that, because of the agility of the Red and Blue Lions, it would be Keith and Lance who would get to go to the not at at all dangerous icy-rocky planet of Piyak. Not at all dangerous, huh? “You still there, Keith?” Lance huffs into the intercom. “Okay dude, just stay where you’re at. Don’t move. You’re already hurt enough.” In a raspy reply, he gets the “Copy that,” from Keith.

Lance wishes he was next to Keith. Not just because he likes him, but because that would mean the mission would be going ok. Heck, they might have been on their way back by now. But it was wasn’t like that. Far from it, in fact. It all started when they were landing. Coran explained many things about Piyak’s atmosphere and surface, but it’s extremely high winds were not one of them. As soon as the Lions entered the atmosphere, they got separated. Going every which way, they had both crashed a good distance away from each other. Blue had managed to crash a bit more gracefully, but Red can’t say the same. Based on Keith’s intermittent descriptions, his lion was pretty banged up, and so was he. Like, really bad. Lance could only imagine what he must be looking like right now. He pushes the thought away and continues trekking through the terrain with the help of his jetpack. Piyak was a fairly mountainous planet, but the peaks were not steep, and ice filled the cracks of rocks and boulders. It was foggy and cloudy, which obscured his vision a little, but it wasn’t anything Lance’s helmet system couldn’t handle. So far, they hadn’t come across any significant life, and Lance hopes it will stay that way. “Lance-!” Keith suddenly shouts through the intercom. “Where are you?” “I’m here, buddy. I’m going as fast as I can. Remember, I had to first tell the team that we were stranded, and that took a bit of time. I’ve already triangulated your position,” he replies. If only he could run faster. “O-okay. I’m outside of Red now. I found a little cave and I just- ow! There’s this huge gash going down my side and it hurts. Lance, it’s getting bad-” “Woah, okay, Keith! Slow down. It’s gonna be okay. I’m almost there. Deep breaths.” A pause occurs and Lance knew it was Keith just eye-rolling at him. What was “deep breathes” gonna do? Well, Lance didn’t have a better consolation, so it would have to work for the time being. He hears a sigh and then “Copy.” —————– It wasn’t too long after before Lance spots a giant red robot cat who’s size and color contrasts it’s background. Lance basically sprints towards Red and tries to find the cave Keith was talking about. He takes a good look at the lion and understands what Keith meant by “practically dead”. She was collapsed on the ground, and many large and small scratches lined her. Coran and Hunk should probably be able to fix her. Maybe. Lance managed to enter inside, just incase there might be any useful supplies for him and Keith. Finally, he left with some bandages and an artifical lighter that could simulate the heat and look of a real fire. Lance then promptly departed from the damaged robot in search of the boy. He saw a rocky grotto nearby and started heading in that direction. Thankfully, it was the right ‘little cave’ and Lance spotted Keith almost immediately. “Keith! I’m here, Keith!” Lance crazily waves his arms up and down to capture his teammates attention. Keith finally looks up and lifts his arm a little in acknowledgement. He drifts towards the boy and sparks the fire. After it looked big enough, Lance positions himself next to Keith. Keith’s descriptions of his injuries were severely underestimated. Not only did he have a scary large wound going through his right hip, but he have several noticeable cuts and wounds all over his face and body. Keith was breathing more heavily than normal, and it looked hard for him to even keep his eyes open. Honestly, it looked like he wouldn’t make it. Lance decided that was enough thinking for now. “So, how are we holding up, Keithers?” He asks as he tries his best to wrap the bandages around Keith’s biggest wounds. “Well, you already see all my injuries and I feel dizzy, heh. I’ve been better,” he coughs. “Um, I checked the air quality. We can take our helmets off,” he points to his helmet on the ground. Lance removes his helmet, but keeps it close to him. Once he did all he could with the bandages, Lance slides to Keith’s left. Keith leans on his shoulder. “Hey, I need you to stay awake for me, okay? We have to wait for the team to get here, which shouldn’t take too long, but we never know, right?” Keith mumbles affirmatively in response. “I might die here,” he blurts out suddenly. “Don’t say that.” “But, Lance! Listen-” -CRACK hiss! Keith was interrupted by.. something. From the volume of the sound, whatever creature made it must have been large. Both of them snapped silent, eyes wide, and they shared the same horrified glance. “Stay quiet,” Lance whispers. He gets up slowly and tentatively steps towards where the noise came from. Carefully, he pulls out his bayard and the object flickers open to reveal his energy rifle. Lance pulls the weapon up to eye level and waits…. “LANCE!” He quickly turns around to see a giant, black, slim monster in front of Keith. It was definitely not friendly. It’s tongue was flicking in and out, dripping what was presumably poisonous venom. The giant bug looked ready to pounce on Keith any second. Lance starts shooting. Blam! Blam! Blam! The monster falls to the ground next to Keith, barely moving. Lance pushes it away and returns to his spot with Keith. “Well, looks like we found our ‘new and evolved’ species,” Lance sighs. “Are you okay?” Keith nods slowly, now breathing even more heavily. He squishes himself up to Lance, and Lance wraps his arm around him. “Let’s talk about something different,” Lance says. He just needs Keith to stay awake a little while longer, so keeping him talking would be the best way to go about it. ————— The two paladins converse about many things ranging from favorite candy, the garrison days, and even a few childhood memories. The fire had died down by a lot, but the lighter only works once, so the two had to resort to just body heat. Lance assumes about 50 or so minutes had passed, but there was still no signs of the Castleship or his other teammates. He had also noticed that Keith was providing a lot less to the conversation as time passed, which was worrying. “Hey, you still with me?” Lance whispers. Keith only hums in response. “You need to stay awake for a little bit longer.” “I know,” Keith mumbles. “It’s cold. My cut hurts a lot. Are you sure I can’t sleep?” Okay, Keith was really out of it. Lance tried to think of something that would at least give Keith a startle without hurting him. There was only one option he could think of. Maybe the fog of the planet was really getting to him, or maybe it was out of real desire, but Lance closed his eyes and slowly leaned over to Keith’s face, giving ample time for the other boy to push away. However, Keith didn’t do anything, and they kissed. On the lips. It was a quick kiss; not special at all. The action was enough, however, to make Keith yelp with a start. “What was that for?” Keith’s eyes were wide, but his voice was still quiet. Lance’s face flushed a bright red, and he hoped Keith couldn’t tell. Searching for the right words he replies, “I- I just needed you to wake up a little. I’m sorry. Did it help?” “I’m up now, I guess,” Keith looks away. Several silent but seemingly long minutes pass. Lance decides this needed to come to an end, otherwise Keith may be prone to close his eyes. “You know that song ‘Blackbird’? By Paul McCartney and John Lennon,” Lance asks. Maybe Keith would stay awake if had to actively sing something. “Yeah. Pretty sure I memorized it back in highschool.” “Sing it with me?” “Ok.” The two start singing. It wasn’t a perfect harmony, but it didn’t need to be that way. As long as Lance heard Keith’s voice along with his, things would be okay. “Blackbird singing in the dead of night Take these broken wings and learn to fly All your life You were only waiting for this moment to arise” “Blackbird singing in the dead of night Take these sunken eyes and learn to see All your life You were only waiting for this moment to be free” “Blackbird fly, blackbird fly Into the light of a dark black night” “Blackbird fly, blackbird fly Into the light of a dark black night” “Blackbird singing in the dead of night Take these broken wings and learn to fly All your life You were only waiting for this moment to arise You were only waiting for this moment to arise..” “You were only waiting for this moment to arise,” Lance starts. He pauses and waits for Keith to say the last line with him like they were supposed to. “You were only waiting for this moment to arise,” he repeats again. Lance looks over to his side. No. No. No. No. No no no. This can’t be happening. There Keith was, eyes closed and barely breathing. Panic filled Lance. He shook Keith almost violently in to get his attention again. “Hey, Keith! Wake up, WAKE UP! KEITH PLEASE, IF YOU CAN HEAR MY VOICE, SAY SOMETHING!” Hot tears started to form and roll down Lance’s face as he attempts to wake the almost lifeless boy in arms. Keith can’t die. Not here. Not now. Lance kisses Keith again and again on his forehead, left cheek, right cheek, but nothing was working. “Wake.” Kiss. “Up.” Kiss. “Please.” Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Lance buries his face in Keith’s hair and cries. He whispers. “Please, wake up, man. I still need you.” ———- Just then, a bright, teal glow enveloped the shallow cave. Lance jerks his head around quickly and practically laughs he’s so happy. “LANCE!” “PIDGE! SHIRO! Oh thank God you’re here oh ok just take him. Slowly! Keith’s alive but that’s just about it,” Lance yells too quickly. Shiro heaves Keith up and races towards his lion. Pidge stays back to inspect the large dead monster-bug. After taking a few pictures and typing a couple things down, she drifts towards Lance. “Hey, are you ok? Any injuries?” She prompts, ready to take action. “No, I’m fine. Just a couple bruises,” Lance replies absent mindedly. He looks back to the mouth of the cave where Shiro carried Keith out. “It looks like you’ve been crying,” Pidge starts. “Is that about Keith?” “I- yeah. It is. Things got really bad, and they still are, and I don’t even know if he’s gonna be okay. Like, I know I shouldn’t be worrying; he’s in good hands now, but,” Lance pauses. He chooses his next words carefully. “He just means a lot to me, y'know?” “You mean your major crush on him?” The girl swiftly adds on. Lance turns red. “Hey! Wait, you knew about that? Am I that obvious?” “Well…” “Fine okay, maybe I do feel that way, but really, I do care about Keith so much; as a friend or otherwise.” Lance crosses his arms and looks down. He might never even get to tell Keith that. Pidge places her hand on his shoulder, “I know you do.” And just like that they’re hugging. It reminds Lance a lot of when his younger siblings used to hug him. He was taller than them, so the hug was sometimes awkward, but it still felt good. Lance squeezes Pidge tight. ————– ————– It’s been almost two weeks since the whole Piyak fiasco, and Keith was still in the cryopod. Currently, Lance is in the kitchen, trying to get the food goo ejector to, like, eject the food goo, but like always, it’s stuck again. Lance wasn’t even sure if he wanted to eat anything. He hadn’t really been that hungry lately. “He’ll be fine, son,” Coran had told him. “Keith has gone through a lot, and we can’t for sure say when he will come back out, but I’m confident in our healing technologies.” “He’s right, Lance,” Allura chirped. “Go get some rest. You’ve taken quite the beating too.” Well, Lance has been 'resting’ for the past 12 days. “Quiznak,” he mumbles to himself. “Lance! Keith woke up!,” Hunk enters the room, practically breathless. “What?! And nobody even told me! What kind of friends are you?” Lance runs up to Hunk, dropping his plate. “Listen, man. I just got the news from Coran too. Apparently he wanted to keep it a 'secret’ so we don’t overcrowd Keith when he woke up,” Hunk continues. The thought kind of made sense. “Anyways, you can go see him now. Pidge told me about your little, ahem, feelings for him.” “That little brat. Thanks, Hunk!” Lance says, but he wasn’t sure his friend even heard him because he had already dashed through the door and into the hallway. ———— If there was a record for running to someone’s room the fastest, Lance was sure he had beat it. The distance from the main kitchen to the paladins’ bedroom hallway was pretty lengthy, but Lance had managed to get there in no time. He slowed down after reaching his bedroom door to catch his breath. He still didn’t know why Keith had chosen the bedroom right next to Lance’s, but he was grateful that he didn’t have to walk much further. He rehersed his lines in his head, so he was to remain as smooth as possible, and approached the door. Knock! Toc! Toc! “Come in.” The door wooshed open, and Lance slowly approached Keith. It was dark inside, save for the faint teal lights lining the ceiling corners. The boy was laying down on his bed, covers pulled up over him, as if he was about to fall asleep. “I’m sorry,” Lance starts. “Did I catch you at a bad time?” “No, its fine,” Keith sits himself upright, and Lance positions himself on the bed in a way that he was facing Keith, but his legs still touched the ground. “How are you feeling?” “Much better,” Keith sighs. “I guess there really is nothing a good two weeks in the cryopod can’t fix. I have a huge scar on my side where that bad cut was though.” An awkward silence follows. “Um, thanks for staying with me on the planet, by the way. I definitely would have died if it wasn’t for you,” Keith continues. He crosses his arms and looks down. Lance didn’t really try to make eye contact either. “No problem, dude. I mean, who would I be if I wasn’t the one saving your butt all the time?” Lance smiles. Maybe he can lighten up this awkward tension. “Oh, Lance!” Keith plays along, placing his hand dramatically his forehead. “You’re my hero!” They laugh a little and now the silence that followed from that exchange was a little more bearable. “I guess I should go, huh? Mr. Keithy needs his beauty rest,” Lance sighs, still keeping up his playful tone. He goes to stand up when suddenly Keith’s hand grabs on to his. “Wait,” Keith blurts. “Can you stay?” “Hmm? Why?” Lance sits back down and moves a little closer to Keith. Keith let’s Lance’s hand go and shifts a little. Even in the faint light, Lance could see the pink that suddenly lined the other boy’s face. “I want you.” “Dude, I’m like, right here.” “No, I mean. I want us.” “Us?” “Look, on that planet, Piyak, I was so scared that I was gonna die, but I was even more scared that I wouldn’t be able to tell you that-” “You like me,” Lance finishes. He takes Keith’s hand again. “Yeah,” Keith admits. “This is gonna sound really stupid, but I think I want be your boyfriend or something. I don’t know.” He squeezes Lance’s hand tighter. “Hmm, maybe that can happen,” Lance smirks. “Look at me for a second?” Keith glances up. Lance leans forwards, and placing his hand under the other boy’s chin, he kisses him. For real. Unlike on Piyak, this was a special kiss. It was long and warm and comfortable. Lance doesn’t even know how to describe it, only that he just doesn’t want it to stop. They part away. “That was,” Keith begins. “That was wow.” “'Wow’? Is that all you have to say?” Lance smirks. “I was thinking something along the lines of 'wonderfully amazing’, but now that just sounds cheesy.” “You ARE cheesy, Mr. 'Look At Me For A Second’. I mean come on!” Keith is now actually laughing and burying his face in his face. “Shut up shut up! I’m a romantic at heart, okay?” Lance giggles along with him. Honestly, he didn’t mind being called cheesy when it came to Keith. Hearing his laugh was kinda worth it. Hmm, maybe Lance was actually a little cheesy. Keith’s laughter dies down, and he finally looks up again. “Does this mean you will stay with me?” “Pfft, as if I was gonna say no. Move over a little. I’ll spoon you.” Keith gives the okay, and scooches to the left, facing the wall. Lance lays down right beside him and pulls the thick blanket over both him and Keith. He wraps his arm around the boy. Its really warm, actually, and it makes Lance get a little tingly in his stomach. Everything sort of drifts away in a sense. Like there is nothing else in the universe but him and Keith. Lance likes that thought. “You comfy?” He mumbles into Keith’s hair. “Mhm” “Good night.” “'Night.” “Did you know that I really like you?” “Lance, I swear to God.” “Okay, okay. Sleeping mode activated.” And with that, Lance closes his eyes. He wouldn’t mind spending all of eternity like this. Not one bit. -Klance Day

[tentenpropaganda]

Naruto Characters Ranked On The Quality Of Their Hair

Hashirama. Just look at him.

Kushina. It’s naturally perfect, but she also cares for it when she must, if only to spite the people who mock her hair.

Yamato. The forcibly-experimented-on war orphan doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Neji. You’d better believe that he takes VERY careful care of his hair. If he can’t have social power over the main branch, he can at least be stronger and prettier than them.

Ino. She always smells really nice, too, because she uses these amazing homemade floral shampoos.

Minato. How does he never have a hair out of place or a single tangle despite running around at the speed of sound? No one knows. (ultimate good hair power couple with Kushina)

Shisui. His hair is super cute and he KNOWS it. Too bad he doesn’t have the eyes to see it anymore </3

Choji. Don’t @ me, his hair is BEAUTIFUL and y’all only sleep on his great hair because we don’t appreciate good hair unless it’s on a skinny person. But he can’t be in the top five because his hair is part of his attacks, which means there’s probably some dirt and blood in there. :/

Orochimaru. What’s the point of being immortal if you can’t be beautiful?

Itachi. Can’t slaughter your clan if you don’t have the proper hair care routine.

Sai. Not much going on with his hair, but he takes care of it. It’s probably super soft.

Hinata. Brushing and washing her hair calms her down, so she does it ALL the goddamn time. But she also plays with her hair when she’s nervous, so it’s typically a bit tangled.

Deidara. He takes care of his hair, but I’m taking a few points off for the fact that every time he touches it, he’s getting hairs in his hand-mouths.

Sasuke. No self-respecting Uchiha lets his hair go unkempt, but his clan got slaughtered before they could pass down all the tricks.

Kurenai. Her hair has to be AT LEAST as striking and beautiful as her eyes, or else it’ll look weird, so she really has no choice but to take care of her hair.

Iruka. He doesn’t care much about how his hair looks, but he does care about maintaining personal hygiene, especially in a professional environment.

Kabuto. None of Orochimaru’s henchmen can get away with improperly-maintained hair, and Kabuto took that to its extreme. So soft and fluffy. But after Orochimaru died Kabuto really let himself go. Now it’s full of shredded bits of snake skin probably.

Madara. He’s an Uchiha but you can’t condition properly when you’re presumed dead by most local and international authorities.

Karin. She takes care of her hair, but being on the run with Sasuke means constantly getting tangled up in weird shit that leaves her with tangled hair.

Tobirama. He doesn’t do anything with it but it’s probably SUPER soft.

Tenten. Her hairstyle is cute as hell, but she doesn’t spend much time taking care of it.

Killer Bee. He’s got nice hair, but it probably smells like fish because of Gyuki.

Suigetsu. It’s never dirty because it’s constantly turning into water which is basically a really thorough shower. But like he’s never brushed it once in his life, and probably doesn’t know what a hairbrush is.

Lee. His hairstyle is fine I guess, but he looked so good with the long hair as a kid... bring it back...

Gai. His hairstyle is fine I guess, but he gets points off because, were it not for him, Lee might still have the long hair.

Sakura. She cut off all her hair, realized how little maintenance a short hairstyle requires, and proceeded to never brush her hair again. But it looks cute though.

Konan. Nothing of note, like Obito below, but she looks cuter because she’s got ornamentation.

Obito. Middle-of-the-road; he just washes it when he bathes and brushes it when it gets tangled. Nothing of note.

Jugo. Hard to comb your hair when your hands sometimes grow into huge hard lumps. Poor guy. He does care about his hygiene though.

Gaara. He combs it but it’s full of sand.

Temari. She combs it but it’s full of sand.

Kankuro. He combs it but it’s full of sand and sawdust and he probably has terrible hat hair.

Kakuzu. It looks fine I guess, but points off for those weird hair fibers that come out of his mouth.

Naruto. He has never owned a hairbrush and even if he did he wouldn’t know how to use it. Iruka used to help him with his hair but now he’s on his own.

Hidan. That shit’s SMOTHERED in gel and you know it.

Shikamaru. He washes his hair exactly as often as he needs to in order to keep Ino from yelling at him, but doesn’t brush it unless ABSOLUTELY necessary.

Tsunade. Look, she’s gorgeous, but if you get too close you will realize that her hair badly reeks of alcohol and she probably just sprayed dry shampoo in there after rolling out of bed this morning. At least she can hide it, though.

Asuma. His hair and beard both smell like cigarette smoke 24/7.

Sasori. That shit’s probably full of sawdust and iron powder and if you touch it, it just feels like doll hair.

Kiba. Doesn’t wash his hair, Akamaru just licks his scalp and then he calls it a day.

Kakashi. See above, but at least Kiba cuts his hair. Kakashi just lets stray kunai trim his hair in battle which is also why it’s so lopsided. Looks like a scraggly wet cat, ironically enough.

Shino. He carefully washes and trims it. But it’s full of bugs and, sorry Shino, that loses you a ton of points.

J*raiya. His hair is probably super sweaty and full of dirt and toad slime because he’s a slob and I hate him.

Danzo. Probably has trouble washing his hair without getting soap in his stolen eyes.

H*ruzen. Greasy receding hairline bitch.

Nagato/Pein. He literally doesn’t have any free hands with which to wash his hair, and his bodies are dead. Their hair probably feels awful, greasy and stringy and the scalps are all wrinkly and dry. Ew.

Zetsu. Is that even hair.

[iatethepomegranate]

We are not alone in the dark with our demons, Chapter 17

In which Caleb buys a house in Rexxentrum with Beau and Yasha, becomes a professor, learns to be a person separate from the trauma that shaped his life for so long, and begins the arduous process of preventing what happened to him from happening to anyone else. It gets far more personal than even he could have anticipated.

Content warnings: Caleb's backstory (especially references to abuse and grooming), referenced deaths of family members, near-dissociation, near-panic attacks

Chapter summary: Caleb tries to make some positive decisions for himself and reaches out to Felix to teach him a spell (and help him cope).

Chapter notes: Chapter title is from Silhouette by Sleeping At Last

*****

Chapter 17: It must be so hard, in the mess you’re always cleaning up, to believe in the ghost of unbroken love.

Caleb and Essek dropped Caduceus at the Grove after breakfast the next morning. They would be picking him up again the day after next, along with the rest of the Nein, but any time he could spend with his family was to be treasured.

They then teleported into Beau and Yasha’s side of the house in Rexxentrum. Caleb had begun the process of putting a new teleportation circle in his laboratory, but it would take time, even with Essek’s help.

Yasha peered out from the kitchen. “Hello! You just missed Beau.” She looked at Caleb, who had slept poorly until he had given in and polymorphed himself into a cat, and swept both him and Essek into a tight hug. He liked this side of her, less concerned about making a social fuckup and just doing what felt right.

Essek awkwardly patted her back. “Hello, Yasha.”

She let them go. “Oh, Caleb! I’ll get the note. Give me a moment.” She ran upstairs, thundering around the upper floor.

Essek set a pouch of Xhorhassian spices and fried bugs from the region on the kitchen table; he had gotten lucky at the market yesterday. The peaceful conclusion of the war had freed up trade, allowing a better variety of goods to be found, especially in port cities such as Nicodranas. This also meant Essek had been able to stock up on a few hair and skincare products that were hard to find outside Rosohna. He had insisted on picking up a few products for Caleb as well. Caleb was still a little unused to being clean, let alone having a skincare routine.

Yasha pelted back downstairs and passed Caleb a little scrap of paper. “Here.”

“Danke.” Feeling the high quality of the paper between his fingers, Caleb suspected Nico had torn this piece from his own spellbook. Caleb made plans to leave some paper and ink lying around downstairs in case Nico came again while everyone was out. For now, he committed Nico’s handwriting to memory and stashed the note between the pages of his new journal. Then, he reached into his pocket and handed Yasha its twin. “For you. I thought… maybe it was time we collect happier memories.”

Yasha accepted the leather-bound journal, slightly smaller than her old one so she could keep it on her person with ease. His was identical. “Thank you, Caleb. This is a lovely gift.” She held the leather to her nose and inhaled deeply. She chuckled. “It smells like the ocean.”

“Ja, for now.” He hadn’t told the Nein what his old journal had held. But, if nothing else, the soft look on Yasha’s face confirmed she understood it was tied to his past, much like hers had been. He wasn’t sure he would ever tell the Nein, aside from Essek, what he had truly planned with the letters and the T-Dock. He was sure Beauregard suspected, and possibly Veth, and he was certain the rest, especially Caduceus, had caught on that he was headed down a self-destructive path. But Caleb had made the decision not to pursue it. Unveiling that now would upset them, and he had upset them enough. And Caleb preferred to keep that chapter of his life shut, lest he fall into temptation again.

It was time to look forward, as much as he was capable. As much as the current circumstances would allow him. The past would always have a hold on him, but he could choose to let it guide him towards making things better instead of breaking the world to undo what had already been done.

On that front, he had promised to pay Felix a visit, and Essek had burned his teleportation spells so Caleb still had his free for the day.

***

Caleb landed alone in Blumenthal. His breath still seized in his chest at the sight. He pressed a hand to his sternum and gulped down air until the world stopped spinning. He wondered, a little frantically, whether this would ever get easier. And then the panic passed, and he could breathe again.

He checked in with the gravekeeper, who confirmed they were holding off on the Baumanns’ funeral for a few more days in case Nico was willing and able to attend. He passed on the news that Nico had made a small amount of contact, and Caleb willed himself to exude what quiet optimism he could manage.

The gravekeeper was an elderly widow who had been tending the Blumenthal graves for as long as Caleb could remember. She knew him, of course, and that was unnerving as always. But he was trying to stay calm about the people of Blumenthal knowing the professor visiting Felix had once been Bren, son of Una and Leofric Ermundrud. It was hard, though, knowing there were at least a few neighbourhoods who could make the connection between what happened to the Baumanns, and what happened to the Ermendruds. They had not stated outright at any point that Nico had killed his parents, but the more people who knew about what happened, the more people were likely to suspect the truth. And, of course, the Schneiders knew. Caleb didn’t want the townspeople to think of Nico that way; he was going through enough. Caleb wasn’t sure how he felt about himself, only that there was a weight in his guts that intensified whenever he thought about it too much.

Caleb made one last stop before meeting Felix. He was here anyway, and he had not visited his parents since he had buried the letters with them. So he picked his way through the winding cemetery. It was easy to find his parents again, now that he had been here once.

“Hallo,” he said quietly, kneeling in the grass before their paired gravestones. His last visit hadn’t been that long ago, really, but he had been so swaddled in his grief that it had been hard to think straight. He pulled out the new book and rested it on his knee. “A lot has happened since I last came. I have a house now, in Rexxentrum, and a job teaching at Soltryce Academy. I’m going to stop what happened to me, and the both of you, from happening to anyone else. Best I can, anyway. Mixed success so far.” An inappropriate chuckle escaped him. “It’s… strange. Seeing these young boys, Felix and Nico, who had been set on the same path I had walked. We stopped Felix before he could… but I wasn’t fast enough to save Nico’s parents. I am… doing what I can now. They are both so young. Children, really. And, well, you know children that age rarely feel like children. I didn’t. I think Trent exploited that.”

He let the quiet wash over him. A light, fresh breeze played against his face. Most residents of Blumenthal were probably hard at work right now. This was a farming town, after all.

He remembered the journal on his knee. “Oh, and I have a new book now. This one is for happy memories. Nico left me a thank you note; I suppose that’s the first one. He’s not… he needs time. But I am starting to believe we can help him. I’m… I think that scares me. I understand what he’s going through better than most, but… this is a huge responsibility. I hope I don’t fuck it up. Sorry, mother. I would blame my new friends, but, in truth, I’ve always had a mouth on me. My friends are very cool, though. I think you would have liked them. Well, jury’s out on Beauregard, but she grows on you. Maybe I’ll tell you about our adventures next time I visit. Well, some of them. From Trostenwald, to Xhorhas, to a floating flesh city, to a Rexxentrum courtroom... we had a big year. And it’s because of them that I can bear talking to you like this.”

A tiny thought, right at the back of Caleb’s head, suggested he should bring the Nein next time. Or maybe one or two of them. Nine people clustered around a pair of graves sounded like a lot.

Caleb wanted to stay longer, but he had to check on Felix. He sighed, and pushed himself to his feet. “I will return, I promise. I will not leave you for as long as I did the first time. I love you both.”

He stepped away while he still had the will to do so. The grief was there, but he felt in control of it. For now, at least. And there was a family that needed him.

***

Louise Schneider was tending the vegetable patch in front of the house, while Friedrich knelt by a wooden cart, replacing a damaged wheel. Caleb fought off nausea at the sight of the cart; it looked just like the one his parents had owned. That… was fine. He was fine. Blumenthal-standard cart. The things were everywhere.

Louse set her trowel aside, sitting back on her heels. “Hallo… Caleb?” She was, evidently, struggling a bit to figure out what she was supposed to call him.

“Ja, hallo.” His voice was a little rough, but steady.

“Felix is in his room.” Louise wiped her brow with the back of her glove. “He’s been a little… reclusive.”

Sensing this conversation was going to take more than a few seconds, Caleb sat in the grass with her. “Okay, talk to me. How is he? And how are the two of you?”

Louise huffed a short, rueful laugh. “It is hard to tell how your child is feeling when he barely talks to you.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” Caleb said, as gently as he sensed she would tolerate. “My situation was not like Felix’s, but I can understand a little. It’s… not a comfortable feeling to know that all the love in the world is not enough to… to…” He breathed. “All I know is that I have grappled with the guilt of my actions for a long time, and the fact we were able to get to him before it went that far… it does not erase the shame. It is an ugly thing, to face yourself, to face the person you have become, even if you were manipulated and abused and brainwashed to become that person.”

“What the fuck are we supposed to do?” she whispered.

“Love him. Show him you are there for him, in whatever way he can bear.”

Louise gazed back at the house. “But if love wasn’t enough…”

“It takes time,” Caleb told her. “You can’t measure it, or count it. Time looks different for all of us. But with your support, it will be easier for him to come to terms with what happened to him, and to understand he is not a bad person for the things he was persuaded to do, and almost did… easier than it is for me. You have to remember, Frau Schneider, that those of us in the Volstrucker program thought we were serving our country, and we were honoured to do it.”

“We thought the same,” Louise murmured. “When Felix was chosen for the program…” She sighed. “I told Master Ikithon to do whatever it took to help him be what the Empire needed.”

The ground was unsteady beneath Caleb, and he was relieved to be sitting down. “My mother and father felt the same, if Ikithon spoke true. He usually does.” A wave of pettiness overcame him, and he chuckled. “Did. That is why it is so difficult to process. He rarely lied to us outright. And we thought we had a choice. We did, to a degree. We chose to serve, and we thought we had to endure what he put us through and what he asked us to do… so we could serve our country.”

“What do you now believe?”

“I believe there are good people in the Empire,” said Caleb. “There are things worth preserving. The child abuse and murder of innocent Empire citizens are not among of them.” He was getting distracted, so he steered his thoughts back in their original direction. “Now is the time Felix needs you most. The biggest thing that has helped me is knowing there are people who care about me and value me, even when I don’t care about myself.”

“We’re trying,” said Louise. “Thank you. He should be in his room, if you’d like to talk to him.”

“Ja, I will. He has been working on a Transmutation spell, which happens to be my specialty.” Caleb pushed himself to his feet, straightening his coat. “And, Louise?”

“Ja?”

“We were children a long time ago,” he said. “And my memories of Blumenthal are too… complicated to linger on, but I remember your kindness. And I have seen your love for your son. You are a good mother. Remember that, and extend that same kindness to yourself, ja?”

Louise picked up her trowel, her movements slow as if through water. “Danke.”

Caleb moved towards the house, exchanging a wave with Friedrich. The front door was open, so he stepped through. The house only had one storey, so he moved past the living area to a short, thin hallway. One door was open, revealing a wide bed for two people. He knocked on the other door.

“What?” said Felix, voice tinged with adolescent irritation that brought back a fuckton of memories for Caleb, of studying in his bedroom until his mother interrupted to coax him down for a meal. It ached, but bearably so.

“It’s Caleb. May I come in?”

“Ja, I guess.”

Caleb turned the knob and slowly pushed, poking his head through first. Felix was sitting on the wooden floor, beside a low bed made from a rough timber frame. His spellbook lay on the floor in front of him, but it was seemingly open to a random page, and Felix’s hair was mussed as if he had just been lying down. On the floor, if Caleb were to guess.

“Would you like some good news?” Caleb said, stepping inside. He shut the door, leaning against it while he awaited Felix’s response.

“That would make a nice change,” Felix said flatly.

Caleb sat on the floor in front of him and pulled out his new book, removing Nico’s note and handing it to Felix. “Nico visited my home while it was empty the other day. He left this.”

Felix scanned the note with careful, controlled slowness. He passed it back, staring sightlessly at the pages of his book.

“He also responded to a Sending,” Caleb continued. “Only to tell me he did not wish to talk, but that is progress. Has he spoken to you?”

“Nein,” Felix said quietly. There was a heaviness to his posture, and he seemed to lack the energy to express himself with his face or voice. Aside from that singular spike of irritation when Caleb had knocked.

“Well, it appears he is listening. If you can bear it, I would suggest you keep talking to him.”

“Ja, okay.” The Felix in front of him was a far cry from the Felix in his messages. Exhausted, flattened… defeated, in some ways. Beaten down and ready to give up. Caleb knew the feeling well. It was why he had been messaging Felix so frequently, knowing that he had no one else who could understand what he had been through. What he had almost done.

It would have been easy enough to talk about the Fly spell and let him have a distraction, but they had things to discuss first. It was better to end their meeting today on a positive note, rather than give him a reprieve now and drag him back to earth later.

“I spoke to your mother,” Caleb said, sitting with the guilt of not giving Felix the distraction he sorely needed. Not yet.

Felix huffed quietly. “Was it a useful conversation? Mine haven’t been.”

“I have the luxury of not being family,” Caleb replied. “I can tell her things that you never would.”

Felix snorted. “Right.”

“She says you’re becoming a recluse.”

Felix shrugged.

“Why is that?”

“What am I supposed to say?” Felix muttered, and Caleb got the sense he probably would have snapped at him, had he the energy. “I know they’re afraid of me.”

“I don’t think they are, Felix.”

“Doesn’t matter. I was going to kill them, and I would’ve succeeded. I know that. They know that.”

“I don’t think they’re worried about that right now.”

“Then they’re stupid.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say about your parents, Felix.”

“Murder also isn’t nice, but I was going to do that anyway.” Felix flipped through the pages of his spellbook until he landed on one Caleb recognised: the formula for Fireball. “Push the cart in front of the door, throw one of these fuckers into the house, or maybe a Lightning Bolt would’ve looked like a freak accident.” Having not expected this, Caleb had to fight a wave of nausea and grasp tightly to the present, and hoped it didn’t show on his face; this wasn’t about him or his bullshit. “Hadn’t decided. Whatever. If I aimed right, it would be over quickly. If not… it would be over eventually. Nico had similar plans, which apparently worked.” Felix’s fingers spasmed on the page, as if resisting the urge to tear it. “If my mother and father do not fear me, they have deluded themselves into thinking I’m innocent. Makes a certain kind of sense, I suppose. I never could tell them what Trent had us do. I have nothing to say to them. I see no point trying to comfort them when they should be afraid of me. They should not want me here.”

Felix was spiralling. Badly. Caleb was out of his depth, and his brain was not turning as efficiently as it usually did, on a knife’s edge of whether to stay present or dissociate entirely. But he had to do something.

“Would you like to guess where I have been today?” Caleb asked. “It’s here in Blumenthal.”

Felix shrugged. “I hate guessing games.”

“I visited my mother and father. Spoke to them for a while.”

Confusion furrowed Felix’s brow for a moment, before he looked up, understanding. “Can’t imagine they were very talkative.”

Caleb’s laugh surprised both of them. “You’re not wrong. Rather one-sided. But maybe they can hear me.”

Felix continued to take the bait. “Fine. I’ll bite. What did you talk about?”

“Life updates. I have only visited once before, a few months ago, and that was more… intense. And, well, since then, I’ve hit several personal milestones I wanted to tell them about.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I am about to guilt-trip you into speaking to your living parents.”

“Oh, fuck you.” There was no aggression behind it, merely exhausted resignation, as if Felix already knew Caleb had the upper hand.

“I am not expecting you to bare your soul to them,” Caleb said. “I understand the impulse to hold back and I do not wish to deny you your privacy. But, it is very easy for people like us to get caught in our heads, and it can be difficult to pull ourselves out of it without help.”

“And if I don’t want to have to look at them and remember I was going to fucking kill them?”

“You seem to remember that well enough without seeing their faces.”

Felix shoved his face into his hands, sighing loudly. “I don’t know what I would even talk about. We have nothing in common anymore.”

“I’ve always found admitting I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing is very helpful.”

Felix snorted.

“And I do not agree that you have nothing in common.” Caleb didn’t try to make Felix look at him. If this were one of the Nein, he probably would have gotten obnoxiously in the way until they couldn’t ignore him, like Jester, Veth and even sometimes Essek had been known to do for him. But, with Felix, his words would have to be enough. “You have told me you love them, and they clearly love you. There is a lot of common ground there.”

“What common ground?” Felix curled more deeply inward with the gravity of defeat. “I cared more about some bullshit Trent put in my head than how much I love my parents.”

This was far more familiar territory to Caleb. “You are not alone in that, Felix. I loved my mother and father. And I killed them just the same. Trent exploited our patriotism to isolate us from our families and tie our worth to serving the empire, to serving him. And by having us kill our families based on a lie, one of the only lies he ever told us, he could ensure we had no one else to support us. That we would not believe we deserved better, even if we learned he had modified our memories. He wanted us to have nothing else but him. Did he pull that ‘we are family’ bullshit with you?”

Felix dropped his hands, snickering bitterly. “Ja. All the time.”

“Creepy, ja?”

Felix kept laughing quietly.

“He invited me to a ‘family reunion’ with him, Astrid and Eadwulf a few months ago,” said Caleb. “My friends came with me. Do you remember Caduceus?” Felix nodded. “He told Trent he was a fool, and that no one loves him.”

Felix scoffed. “You’re lying.”

“I am paraphrasing. He did call Trent a fool, but what he said about love was… wait, let me quote this exactly. I have this burned into my memory forever.” Caleb cleared his throat, and did not attempt to mimic Caduceus’s voice because he was awful at accents, but he quoted: “He said, ‘I think it has been a long time since anyone has pointed out to you that you're a fool. Pain doesn't make people, it's love that makes people. The pain is inconsequential. It's love that saves them. And you would know that, but you have none around you. You said so yourself, you surround yourself with lies and deceptions. And I wish for you, in the future, to find someone who will mourn you when you are gone. Respectfully.’ And then Trent left.”

“Okay, two things,” said Felix. “First of all, Caduceus is cooler than you. Second, your memory is terrifying and I am rethinking every word I have ever said to you.”

“Caduceus is very cool, ja. And the memory is a blessing and a curse for me and everyone around me. I also have a very good sense of time, and I have used it to annoy the shit out of my friends.”

“Nerd.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Fuck off.”

Caleb chuckled. “Back to my original point. Trent is a piece of shit. He wanted us to believe we chose to follow him, ja, but the choice was false. He wanted us to believe we did not deserve better. Even now that we are free from him, it is not easy to break that conditioning. Our minds are more fragile than we like to think, ja?”

“Ja, I guess.” The momentary brightness faded from Felix’s expression, and the heaviness returned.

“And an important step in countering that is to reach out to the people who care about you.”

Felix slammed his spellbook shut, hiding the Fireball spell from view. “And if I don’t want to?”

“Let me ask a question in return. What do you want?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you so sure you do not want to repair your relationship with your parents?”

Felix groaned softly. “Did you have to word it like that? Of course I…” His voice dropped to a murmur. “Arschloch.”

“Then, is the problem less about what you want, or don’t want, and more about what you think you deserve?” Caleb had far too much experience in feeling that way.

“Fuck you, Caleb.” Felix scrambled to his feet, hugging the spellbook to his chest. “Are you going to teach me this spell, or did you just plan on lecturing me all day?”

Ah. There was the limit. “All right, I’ve said my piece.” Caleb got up. “You said you’ve transcribed the spell?”

“Ja. I just… it’s not an easy spell to practice.”

“I know. Shall we go outside? We will need space for this.”