#they may not be the nicest smelling animal to do

[the-reclawmation-studio]

I was going to wait until he was completely finished and I could get some better pictures but I'm so excited about this and just need to share lol.

This is my ferret, Chester. The pictures on the left are from when I first mounted him- about a year ago. I wasn't really happy with how he turned out, he had major Sid the sloth vibes haha. So a couple months ago I gave in, took him apart, and remounted him- and he looks so much better.

I was taught to mount raw dry-preserved skins, with the skull still attached around the nose and mouth. This meant the skin, around the face especially, had a lot of shrinkage, and it was difficult to get the mouth to look good. Also, I wasn't very careful with the eye and ear placement, so if you turned him upside down he looked awful lol.

I took him through the tanning process, and to my surprise he was not grease-burned, despite heavy oxidation, and had no slipping! I degreased him as best I could but I'm still not sure if the tan was really able to effectively penetrate the skin. But by the time I was done I was tired of it and figured that even if it wasn't completely tanned, it would still be better than how it was before, so I just went ahead and mounted him.

I also took out his skull and toe bones, and replaced them both with clay. I'm quite pleased that the feet aren't too shrunken, I was really worried they'd end up looking really small, but they're not too bad really.

Ferrets are harder to come by, otherwise I might not have bothered haha. But I'm also just really attached to Chester, and I'm so glad I can appreciate him properly now :)

[genopaint]

Recently Bromojumbo (x) posted a FANTASTIC prompt on twitter where people send you suggestions for fakemon for you to try and make 1 fakemon from each type! I love making fakemon and my own random monsters so I of course HAD to give this a shot! Up to now I've only been pulling requests from Twitter but starting with the next type (Electric) I'll be asking for suggestions from here as well! So get ready!

Pokedex entries + some thoughts on some of them are in the readmore!

GRASS TYPE - Boonion & Garlich "These pokemon show up wherever there's rampant food waste, haunting locations where rotten food lies and making it smell even worse than it already does."

FIRE TYPE - Civetorch "An odd mammal that can spew out slick oil and scalding hot flames, using this combo as a very deadly offense. Their oil is farmed to help power all sorts of vehicles!"

I was particularly drawn to the Civet suggestion because it's an animal Id NEVER heard of! And I thought it being used for perfume was very odd lol.

WATER TYPE - Mawrine "This strange fish Pokemon is hard as a rock with a soft, see through underbelly. Their bioluminescence is so bright that they're often kept by sailors to help guide the way on the sea when lighthouses aren't near!"

I'm not SUPER thrilled with how this one came out but I got to mix a lot of suggestions together for it and it is the nicest of all the attempts I came up with for an angler fish Pokemon.

NORMAL TYPE - Kablock "These mischievous Pokemon LOVE blending in with buildings and can adapt to all types of walls. If youre ever trapped in an area you swear had an exit, it's probably Kablock playing a trick on you! Giving it some food will usually make it drop its disguise."

THIS ONE I'm VERY happy with the end result! I based it off the Nurikabe wall yokai and, of course, whomps from Mario! At first it was just gonna be the brick wall design then I realized it should be Dry Wall like the suggestions. Then I realized, why not all types of walls!? In case it's not obvious, the building or enviornment you encounter Kablock in would change its appearance, giving it lots of variety!

FLYING TYPE - Infarod "For years, people wondered what the weird snake like creatures flying in photos were. Until a photographer discovered it was an undiscovered Pokemon! Using their unique abilities, Infarods can make their entire bodies invisible to the naked eye!"

Also my idea is that their little fins flow nicely in the wind and also the color cycles across all the fins while they flow. Hopefully you see my vision it's very pretty. Also they glow in the dark (when not invisible)

BUG TYPE - Envimoth "These Pokemon may seem completely standard. But they are actually exceptionally jealous. If they suspect anyone is getting smitten with a Pokemon they have eyes for, they will absolutely flip out and begin doing a bizarre mating ritual for attention!"

I had a gameplay concept for this that feels very much so Pokemon where if your Envimoth fights a Pokemon of the same gender, it goes into a berserker mode where it deals more damage but can't give it commands anymore. And that's what Jealous mode is! Oh also it can use the nasty tentacles for attacks of course

[greypetrel]

13 for aisling and radha for the codex asks :3

Hullo! :3 Thank you so much for asking!

Tis the prompt list

13. something written about your OC in the two years between defeating Corypheus and the beginning of Trespasser

Radha:

*a report sent to Skyhold from the Free Marches. It was encrypted, but after Charter translates it back from the code, it reads like this:*

My Lady Inquisitor,

I wouldn't dare to bother you, but I think you may have wanted to know this with the utmost importance.

We had been visited by an elf, I couldn't say whether Dalish or not. Her face doesn't bear any markings, even if she dressed in Dalish fashion and is keen on lore. She showed up and presented some documents signed by you.

I do not know what to think of it: she started requestiong funds and provisions to enter the Temple you discover some years ago. She asked for men to patrol its borders, and insisted quite a lot when we told her no. The place is haunted, your Worship, the men don't want to stay there more than the strict necessary, but the elf insisted.

She had a paper telling us she acted in your name, and so we had no chance but to obey. I now doubt she was really associated with you. She stayed three days in the Temple, and then greeted us and disappeared, as abruptly as she had come, and told us to keep patrolling the building.

No one has any idea what she did all that time alone in the ruins, but I doubt you would want to take men away from the garrison to guard an empty elven ruin: I suspect a thief and some clever forgery, and as instructed, wrote to tell you back.

I'm not risking my men like so before having a word from you directly.

With respect, Lieutenant Orwell

Aisling:

*a note, written in an elegant cursive, a droplet of dried wax in a corner*

Aisling, These are the letters I received from the Comte in Sylbois regarding our last intrusion to bring supplies directly to the villages. Please read them and help me find an answer. I know it was effective and we cut time and losses and the people are happier… But I can only do this much damage control, and we need the nobility, as much as you don’t like it. Please. Josie

*another note follows, it smells like horse and the cursive is slanted and rushed, letters very similar together. A classic doctor calligraphy, hard to read for a person who isn’t used to it.*

Josie, I am sorry I’m making this complicated for you. But the drought and the war left those villagers with little to no food. I wrote him and send the letter when the supplies left, notifying him of what was going on, apologizing and included a . If his memory is so short that he can forget about it, it’s not my fault. The money is listed in my personal expenses as proof. I know we need the aristocracy, but not at the cost of sacrificing people if he can’t do his job. Sorry, I slept little this night, I shouldn’t be so brisk. I’ll answer him myself, ask Charter to help me and form a letter that will prevent further complaints. As much as I hate the Game, it’s useful in these situations. Tea later? The cook baked beignets. A hug, Aisling

*a third note, in the same handwriting of the first one*

Aisling, I know the situation is dire… But please, next time can I ask you to tell the couriers to wait for the Comte’s permission before entering the town? Ask Charter for those secrets beforehand, relying on their good hearts and fixing it afterward may be worse. Use the Game to your advantage, sooner rather than later. It’s nice that after years, you’re still making these mistakes. In the nicest possible way. Tea and beignets sounds fantastic, honestly, this treaty with Orzammar is really drying my patience up and I need something sweet. Can we correct the tea with some of that Dalish brew you brought from Wycome? I may even forgive you for making me work overtime with De Fourier. :) Josie

*a fourth note, in the ugly calligraphy. There’s a doodle of an animal, but it’s difficult to distinguish which animal is it. It’s roundish, it has a tail, and ears, and a big smile under a triangular nose.*

Josie, The Game is stupid. A lot of circumvoluted things to get to the same end result. Bah. Can I ask you to proof-read my letter? I am afraid I wrote something wrong. It’s brief, I swear, I’ll also bring you some extra candies for your troubles. And the grappa, of course, now I needed it too. Your office or my room? A.

*Another note, in an elegant calligraphy.*

A. Of course I’ll re-read it! I’m here for that. What a cute kitten, it’s really lovely! Your room, if I stay here I’ll never stop. An hour from now is good? J.

*The last but one note has another doodle. The Inquisitor’s own head, a circle, with triangular ears, line hair and a sad expression, with tears.*

J. An hour is perfect. And you don’t have to read that letter if you don’t want to! It’s also my job to write it, I’m fine. And that’s a dormouse. :( A.

*The last note has a doodle too. It's done better, it's stylized, but you can see it's a pair of dormouses curled together and smiling.*

A. I do want to proof-read that letter, I wouldn't have said I would otherwise. Really, it's no bother! I'm sorry! I was too distracted, now that you mention it you're right, it's clearly a dormouse. Dormouses are so cute, aren't they? Can we take a nap like them after the tea? J.

[texasmadehustler]

1. What would you do if you found a dead body in a hotel room?

2. If bald people work in a restaurant, do they still need to wear a hairnet?

3. Which one would you prefer: have no nose but have really good smelling fingers or be blind but have a really nice smile?

4. If you have described something as indescribable, haven’t you already described it?

5. Why is it called "beauty sleep" even though you wake up looking like a hot mess?

6. What has been the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever worn?

7. Which one would you choose: be alive and alone or about to die with a group of friends?

8. How many pennies do you think would fit into this room?

9. Should a man about to be executed in the electric chair be saved if he had a heart attack?

10. Do you think if anything is possible, it’s still possible for anything to be impossible?

11. Is it possible to hear someone's iPod while they're running at maximum speed?

12. Have you ever attempted to swallow toothpaste?

13. What music would you choose to play every time you walk into a room?

14. Do fish have a thirst for water?

15. Is there a limit to how intelligent a single person can be?

16. Why is sandwich meat round when bread is square?

17. Who’s the fifth person on your missed calls?

18. If man developed from monkeys, why do we still have monkeys?

19. Which would be the nicest if animals could only talk?

20. If you punch yourself in the face and it hurts, are you weak or strong?

21. What’s your most hated mode of transportation?

22. If there’s an ambulance on its way to save someone and it knocks down someone, would it stop to help them?

23. If you had the chance to invent a country, what would you name it?

24. Have you ever taken something out of your possession and failed to return it?

25. How would you be able to solve problems if you were from Mars?

26. What are two things that you think are normal, but become really strange when you do them repeatedly?

27. Is it permissible for minors who act in R-rated films to see them?

28. What’s the color of the mirror?

29. What do you usually think about while you are on the toilet?

30. Which superpower would you not want?

31. What hair color do they list on your driver's license if you're bald?

32. How do birds actually pee?

33. Will someone ever be able to live forever?

34. You have discovered a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society and you can even make the rules. What’s going to be the first rule you’ll put into place?

35. Why do you perceive everyone driving faster than you as an idiot and those who are quicker than you as a moron when?

36. Why aren't they using blankets if it's friendly fire

37. To kill an elephant, how many chickens would be required?

38. If you took out a ship and changed all of its parts until none of the original parts are intact anymore, is it still the same ship or a totally different one?

39. Is it possible that morality is derived from morons, just as electricity is derived from electrons?

40. Have you ever unwrapped and rewrapped a gift bearing your name?

41. Why is it that lemon juice has an artificial flavor while dishwashing liquid has real lemons?

42. Why do you think are manholes round?

43. Are eyebrows also considered facial hair?

44. Is your time truly wasted if you enjoy wasting it?

45. What’s your most favorite pooping position?

46. When you know the battery is dead, why do you press harder on the remote control?

47. Which individual, corporation, country, or organization would you bankrupt if you had the chance?

48. Have you ever been tempted to sleep inside the fridge?

49. In 2050, what will be the fastest mode of transportation?

50. Which famous celebrity would you want to punch in the face?

51. Male ballerinas are referred to as what?

52. Is it safe for someone to park their vehicle near a fire hydrant if it is on fire?

53. Do you think cavemen experienced nightmares about cavewomen?

54. What is the shape of your peripheral vision?

55. Which side of the armrest is really yours at a movie theater?

56. Why do you think are blueberries not bright blue?

57. Do you really want someone to give you an honest answer when you ask them how they've been?

58. Suppose you have been given an elephant and you can’t give it away or sell it. What would you do with it?

59. Why do you lower the volume on the radio when you're driving and looking for an address?

60. Is it a hostage situation if a person with several personalities threatens to kill himself?

61. Why is it so difficult for women to apply mascara with their mouths closed?

62. How many pairs of underwear do you actually own?

63. What characteristics would your nemesis have if you had one?

64. What is the highest number that anyone has ever counted?

65. How would you know if someone has manipulated your memory?

66. When Donald Duck gets out of the shower, why does he put on a towel when he normally doesn't wear any pants?

67. What have you forgotten today?

68. Would it be acceptable to say that the opposite of progress is congress because the opposite of pro is con?

69. Which of the two would you prefer to have as your roommate: A bird or an ostrich?

70. Why do you think 11 isn’t pronounced onety-one?

71. Why is it called "taking a dump"? Shouldn’t it be leaving a dump instead?

72. Why can't the professor on Gilligan’s Island fix a hole in a boat if he can construct a radio out of a coconut?

73. Have you ever dropped food on the floor accidentally and then picked it up to eat it?

74. What kind of tree would you be if you were a one, and why?

75. Do bald people still get dandruff?

76. Are we really living or just slowly dying?

77. Do you think a short person can “talk down” to a taller person?

78. Why do you think is a boxing ring square?

79. Have you ever had an extremely bad haircut?

80. What is the least important thing that is very important to you right now?

81. Is it weird to enjoy the smell of your own fart?

82. What kind of noises did dinosaurs make?

83. Where does your idea go when it has already been forgotten?

84. How many times a day do you check yourself in front of the mirror?

85. Is it possible to purchase a complete chess set at a pawn shop?

86. Do the minutes on the movie boxes include previews, credits, and additional features, or are they just for the movie itself?

87. What would you paint on your first day if you were an artist?

88. How long do you think will you be remembered after the day that you die?

89. Why do you have to “put your two cents in” when it is really only a “penny for your thoughts”? Where’s that extra penny going to?

90. Are you keeping a really huge secret from someone you love?

91. Why does the sun make our hair lighter but make our skin darker?

92. Do animals have the ability to commit suicide?

93. Why does raindrop but snow falls?

94. Have you ever peed while sleeping?

95. Do you think you would be friends with a clone of yourself?

96. When Greenland is white and ice-covered, why is it called Greenland?

97. When did time actually begin?

98. Why does wet hair turn darker despite the fact that the water is clear?

99. Why does anything exist? In the beginning, there was totally nothing so how did something come from nothing?

100. Which of the teachers would you prefer to have if you were a Hogwarts student?

101. If we are clean before using bath towels then why do we need to wash them?

102. Would you rather play in the sand or play in the water at the beach?

103. What was the worst song that was ever composed?

104. Which orange came first: the color or the fruit?

105. Is it true that if you got into a cab and the driver drove backwards, he owes you money?

106. How would you be able to handcuff a one-armed man?

107. Would you dare to take a lie detector test with a loved one asking the questions?

108. Do you think you can daydream at night?

109. Why isn’t there any mouse-flavored food for cats?

110. Have you ever tried eating a piece of paper?

111. Which day was a kid born on if his leg came out at 11:59 p.m. but his head didn't come out until 12:01 a.m.?

112. You've recently joined the Spice Girls. What Spice name have you created for yourself?

113. What do you think existed before the universe?

114. You have a date with someone in this room tomorrow. Who would be the most unfit candidate?

115. What was the weirdest text message you’ve ever got?

116. Are the 10 calories in a pack of gum just for chewing the gum, or also for swallowing it?

117. What’s the most boring sport to play and watch?

118. Who actually decided what’s right and wrong?

119. Why do adults say they "slept like a baby" when babies wake up every few hours?

120. Which one would you rather do: ask a question someone does not want to answer or give an answer someone does not want to hear it?

121. Why do we enjoy Halloween if our parents tell us not to take candy from strangers?

122. Do you think coffins have lifetime guarantees?

123. When you can't drink and drive, why do you need a driver's license to buy alcohol?

124. Can you describe the smell of your armpits?

125. What are the things that would be much better if you could change its color?

126. Is the Bible kept in the fiction or non-fiction section of libraries?

127. Why don't ghosts fall through the floor if they can walk through walls and glide downstairs?

128. Which Disney princess do you think would make the best spy?

129. What’s the purpose of setting goals if we're all going to die in the end?

130. Why can't you just feel whelmed instead of overwhelmed and underwhelmed?

131. Do fortune cookie predictions have a time limit?

132. Which one would you rather do: sit in the snow while it is falling or dance in the rain?

133. Do dentists consult with other dentists or do it on their own?

134. What do you think is the ugliest part of your body?

135. Does time flow forward only, or does it move differently also?

136. What would happen to the sea level if every boat in the world was removed out of the ocean at the same time?

137. Who do you think taught the first teacher ever?

138. SpongeBob’s parents are both rounds like sea sponges, but why is he square like a kitchen sponge.

139. Would a bubble in space pop if you blew it?

140. Do you believe there is something beyond what we can currently perceive in the universe?

141. Why does grape flavor smell like it when real grapes don't taste or smell like it?

142. How many kilograms of potatoes have you consumed throughout your life?

143. How can pessimists motivate themselves to get out of bed every day?

144. Why are they described as apartments when they are all connected?

145. Rabbits don’t lay eggs, so why does the Easter bunny deliver them?

146. Is it legal to drive down a road backward as long as you stay in the right lane?

147. When was the last time you screamed your lungs out?

148. Should fishermen consume the fish they catch, or should they simply release them?

149. What sound would be the most horrifying if you could hear it?

150. Why are we so terrified of making mistakes if we can learn from them and improve?

151. Why is the Lone Ranger nicknamed "Lone" though he is constantly accompanied by his Indian friend Tonto?

152. If an orange is color orange, why isn’t a lemon called a yellow or a lime called a green?

153. When doing first aid, have you ever purposefully hurt someone just enough to make them scream?

154. Do you think prison buses have emergency exits?

155. What is the longest time you have gone without showering?

156. Why do you think is vanilla ice cream white when vanilla extract is brown?

157. Are there belly buttons on Adam and Eve?

158. If you’ll be expecting the unexpected, doesn’t that make the unexpected expected?

159. Isn't it strange that rearranging the word "teacher" gives "cheater"?

160. Is it true that cannibals don’t like eating clowns because they taste funny?

161. How can a brain that is closed inside our skull ever be called an open mind?

162. If you will be looking at a map of the inside of a planet, what would it look like?

163. Why is your head sticking out from your t-shirt?

164. Do you have crazy thoughts running through your head all day?

165. Doctors call what they do practice, isn't that a little unnerving?

166. Cured ham was formerly infected with what disease?

167. Why are the small candy bars referred to as "fun sizes"? Isn't it more fun to consume the big one?

168. We all know that milk goes bad if not refrigerated, but why doesn’t it go bad inside the cow?

169. Which one would you rather have an arm that regenerates every week or legs that grows back in every week?

170. How would anyone ever know if a word was misspelled in the dictionary?

171. Why do green olives come in jars and black olives come in cans?

172. When sheep brush against each other, do they get static cling?

173. Have you ever been tempted to slap someone you’re talking to while you’re talking to them?

174. When it involves the living body, why is it called plastic surgery?

175. Did you fail or succeed if you were trying to fail and you succeeded?

176. Why do banks charge money for insufficient balance, even when they know there isn’t any money?

177. Do the FBI have to pay if they break down your door?

178. Can you cry underwater?

179. What language do people speak in their heads if they were born deaf?

180. Is it possible for fish to be seasick?

181. When we can't sleep, why do we count sheep but not dogs?

182. Would you believe a person who told you they were a pathological liar?

183. Why do 7-11 stores have locks on the doors if they are open 24 hours a day, 365 days a year?

184. Is it required for atheists to swear on the Bible in court?

185. What’s the weirdest job you’ve ever had?

186. Where does it say that Humpty Dumpty is an egg in the nursery rhyme?

187. Do stairs go up or go down?

188. Is ketchup considered a smoothie since tomatoes are considered as fruits?

189. If everyone says that life is totally unfair, doesn’t that just mean that life is fair?

190. Would a vacuum form in your stomach if you farted and burped at the same time?

191. What is a workstation if the train station is set to where the train is bound to stop?

192. What lies beyond the limit if the sky is the limit?

193. Is it still a dog pile when dogs climb on top of each other?

194. How much wood do you think can a woodchuck chuck?

195. Is there a synonym for synonym?

196. When it comes to movies and concerts, do conjoined twins pay for one or two tickets?

197. Is it true that if a child refuses to take a nap, it means they are resisting a rest?

198. Which one would you rather walk around with: a salad on your head or broccoli on your arms?

199. If corn oil is made from corn and vegetable oil is made from vegetables, where does baby oil come from?

200. When someone with an accent thinks to themselves, do they have an accent in their thoughts, too?

201. If no one is supposed to step foot on the grass, then how did someone put the “keep off the grass” sign there in the first place?

202. Why do you think isn’t bacon baked and cookies cooked?

203. Do you become a hater if you despise haters? Will you despise yourself if you despise haters?

204. Why is it that the glue doesn't stick to the inside of the bottle?

205. Why is it that your nose runs but your feet smell?

206. What do you call a question with no answer?

207. Did the sun shine first, or did the moon reflect it?

208. Why is phonetic not spelled exactly as it sounds?

209. Why aren't curtains double-sided so that they look good both inside and outside your house?

210. Why is hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia such a long term if it means "a fear of long words?"

211. Are individuals buried with their braces on?

212. Why is patience a virtue if early birds get the best advantages?

213. Why do we kill people who kill people if killing people is wrong?

214. How could the Wicked Witch of the West ever bathe if she melts in the water?

215. Why do you think is it called a building when it is already built?

216. Is it possible for monkeys to have a monkey’s uncle?

217. Are the animals homeless because they don't have a home?

218. Can the word “dictionary” be found in the dictionary?

219. Would the other doctors treat the doctor or the patient if a doctor suffered a heart attack while performing surgery?

220. Why do we park on driveways and drive on parkways?

221. Even when it's delivered by plane or truck, why do we have to call it "shipping"?

222. Do you yawn when sleeping?

223. Are you a waiter yourself if you're waiting for the waiter to take your order?

224. When we like something, why do we put our hands together?

225. Do you know the phrase “throw ya hands in the air like ya don’t care”? Why bother doing that if you don’t actually care?

[hazzoranstories]

Paul Lahote x Reader Smut | Arousal

Includes: Harsh language, nudity, vaginal sex, dominance, public sex, and oral sex (male received)

Inspired by several Upthehillart smut pieces and a Jacob Black smut imagine by Stuckontwilight (Wattpad)

________________________________________________________________________________

"Hey, Paul! Can you come here for a minute?" I screamed through mine and Paul's house. I soon saw my boyfriend rush in with a worried expression.

"What is it, Y/N?" He muttered and looked around to notice something out of place. But everything was perfectly aligned.

"I just wanted to check if you were ready, but apparently you aren't," I plastered a fake smile on my face to hide my annoyance. I told him an hour ago to wear the nicest thing he had, but he only had a pair of black slacks and a belt on so far.

"Do we have to go to this thing anyway?" He whined, and I glared at him.

"Yes, we do. This is my cousin's wedding, and we have to be there," I argued as collected as I could.

"Don't you have like 20 cousins? And they'll probably all get married, so what's the big deal if we skip this one?"

"12 and I can't miss this because she would kill me and I want to see her get married. Please," I pouted my bottom lip, and he sighed before nodding. I smiled and walked up to him. "Thank you. Now go get dressed because I don't think my mom would like you arriving shirtless," I advised and zipped up his fly. He looked down at my hand, which graced against his abs, and licked his lips.

"Yeah -- yeah, I better get dressed," he stuttered and walked out swiftly. I smirked to myself before finishing my makeup.

~:*:~

Eventually, Paul settled with a white button-up, brown dress shoes, and a black suit jacket to accompany his trousers. I matched him with a thigh level black cape dress that hugged my curves with a plunging v-neck and gold jewelry. We arrived at the wedding reception since we weren't invited to the ceremony and saw it was crowded with 200 people at the minimum. I caught Paul's irritated gaze and intertwined our hands while dragging him through people.

I sat us down at our designated table, and we listened to speeches, ate, and only conversed with each other. I may love my cousin, but this wedding was too much. I only knew my select family, and even then, I didn't speak with them. Finally, the music turned on, and Paul leaned towards my ear.

"Wanna dance?" he asked, and I looked at him. In seconds I was dragged onto the dance floor with his arm around my waist. Since it was a slow song and there were over two dozen couples on the floor, we weren't noticed in the swarm of people. Me and Paul soon sunk into the song, and he brought me closer to him, so our chests were touching. One of his arms on my waist glided down, so his fingers brushed along the back of my thigh, causing my breathing to catch in my throat.

"Paul," I warned, and I felt him snicker.

"I can smell it," he whispered in my ear and took a deep breath. His breath hit my neck, causing goosebumps to rise.

"Smell what?" I stumbled out, and he chuckled lowly. His fingers on my thigh trailed up to play with the hem of my dress.

I took a shaky inhale, and he mumbled, "your arousal." I froze in place, and he laughed quietly again. He lifted me up and spun me before setting me down and continuing to lead our elegant swaying.

"I -- I don't know what you're talking about," I gulped, and he stuck his lip in between his teeth.

"Of course you don't," he replied cooly. We danced with me tense until the end of the song. When the song switched to a more upbeat and more than just couples raced onto the dance floor, Paul grabbed my hand and walked me off. I thought he would lead me back to our table, but he guided me right past it.

We slipped out of the reception and into the hallway. "Where are we going, Paul?" I worried, but he didn't respond. He checked inside multiple rooms until he grinned in success and tugged me inside. It looked to be an empty office or study. Why it was at a reception, I didn't want to know.

His hands found my waist again and boosted me up, so I sat on the desk in the middle of the room. "Paul--" I was cut off with his lips. My body responded to the tenderness the kiss brought by returning the favor and grabbing his neck, deepening the make-out session. He caressed my cheek before moving his kisses down my neck to my collarbone, where he sucked at my sensitive skin. I wrapped my legs around his lower abdomen and pulled him closer.

His warm lips fell to my throat, where he kissed a trail down my exposed cleavage. I folded his suit jacket down till it was on the floor next to us and began unbuttoning his white shirt. While I was working to shed him of his clothing, he was doing the same with my dress. Or at least trying. Since my dress was so tight, he almost ripped it while trying to get the shoulder straps down. Once they were both resting on my sides, he broke the kiss on my skin to lower himself and slip the rest of the dress off.

He removed the last button on his shirt before sliding it off to join the rest of our clothes. I got hungry at just the familiar sight of him without a shirt and reconnected the kiss roughly. I threw his belt into the wall, making a loud thud, and tugged down his pants, which he stepped out of. Now we were both only in our underwear, and he pressed himself against my soaking knickers.

He unclasped my bra and dropped it near our other clothes. I broke the kiss and flipped us around, so he slammed into the desk, causing it to screech against the floor. I knelt down, and with one quick motion, his boxers were removed, and his cock sprung free. It was so hard it looked painful, and based on Paul's groan of relief, it was.

My lips molded to fit his entire length into my mouth, and his hand latched onto my hair. He pulled slightly, which sent a certain shock through me, and I increased my speed, sucking on his tip. "Fuck," he whispered, and the grip on my hair tightened. My hand began pumping the rest of his length as I focused on his sensitive spot. The wolf began twitching from under me as he edged closer and closer to his release. I stopped right when he was about to cum and stood up, he gave me a look that could kill, and I smirked.

I saw his cock jerk, and his eyes suddenly got filled with rage and starvation. He swapped us around and bent me over the desk aggressively. My tits hit the wood too hard, making me wince. He ripped off my panties and slammed into me. I moaned for the first time tonight and tried to clutch onto something, but there was nothing besides the other side of the desk, which was too far away. Instead, I grasp his wrist, which was resting on my hip.

His thrusts started slow and held me down; he placed the hand I wasn't squeezing for dear life onto my back. The animal side of him broke out from its restrainment as he kept going, and pretty soon, he was pounding into me mercilessly. I tried to cover my mouth to quiet myself, but he held both hands behind me and raised me, so I was no longer bent over. My back was against his smooth chest as he adjusted himself so he could go in deeper.

The first thrust had me screaming his name at how it felt so foreign but made me even wetter. I broke my hands from his loosening hold and tangled them into his hair. I tugged him down, so his lips collided with my neck, where he began bitting and kissing harshly. I whimpered when the burning feeling in the pit of my stomach arrived, and my walls clenched around him. He sensed my fidgeting and held me tighter to his body while using his fingers to play with my cilt.

I yanked his hair again, sending his head back and a grunt of euphoria to leave his lips. The twitching started again, and he got sloppier as both our orgasms came closer. A few hasty pounds later, and my seed flowed down his length and onto the ground. I soon felt his warm cum on my back, and we both rode out our highs by touching ourselves.

"That was amazing," he breathed, and I nodded while trying to mellow down. With heavy pants filling the room, I turned around slowly. My eyes met his, and I saw a line of sweat near his eyebrows while his cheeks were flushed red and his hair a sprawled out mess. I grabbed his chin and gave him several long and passionate kisses before he rested his head on my shoulder in exhaustion.

"Aren't you happy we came?" I asked with a growing smile.

"I'd rather fuck you in bed but sure," he gasped, and I giggled while running my hands through his hair since there was no chance of fixing it now.

[plaidbooks]

Cabin Life - First Date

A/N: I seriously fell in love with this AU so hard. If anyone needs me, I’ll be in a cabin with Sonny. Once again, thanks to @berniesilvas for fueling this AU and letting me scream at her about woodsman!Sonny.

Tags: injured birds, otherwise none

Words: 1529

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart  @beccabarba  @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy  @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl  @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @caracalwithchips @berniesilvas​  @reading--mermaid  @averyhotchner  @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

After that meeting, Sonny called you, asking you on a date. You weren’t quite sure what to expect; you were still new in coming back to the woods, and you weren’t sure what a date really entailed. But, your parents were quick to mention, if it was a date with Sonny Carisi, then it would be fine.

“Everyone loves Sonny; he’s the nicest guy around, and a breath of fresh air in the community,” your mom said.

He showed up at your place that afternoon; he lived in a cabin about a mile away. Within walking distance, but not something you would particularly do on your own. He didn’t seem to mind, though; he wasn’t even out of breath.

“Hey doll. I was thinking we could go for a stroll in the woods? There’s a meadow in between our cabins that’s just breathtakin’ in the setting sunlight,” he said, smiling.

You agreed, grabbing your coat; the autumn air was starting to get a little chilly. Your parents greeted him, and he waved back, telling them he’d bring you home at a decent hour. You stifled a chuckle; you were both in your late 20s.

Your shoes crunched over the leaves covering the ground, Sonny crunching along right beside you. He was telling you about his family, about how they wanted him to visit for Thanksgiving, so he’d have to go back to Staten. As he talked, your hands brushed, and you gently took his hand in yours. He tripped over his words for a moment, then smiled and interlaced his fingers with yours before continuing on.

It had barely seemed like you had been with him before you were coming out of a copse of trees into a meadow. Soft grass to your knees swayed in the gentle breeze, and bees buzzed from flower to flower. The sunlight was dimming as the sun sunk beneath the trees.

“Wow,” you breathed, and Sonny squeezed your hand.

He took a step into the meadow, then stopped and turned to look at you. “Just wait; it gets better,” he promised. Eyes wide with awe, you let him guide you forward into the meadow, your eyes trying to take it all in. It was simply beautiful.

Rabbits hopped through the grass on the other side of the meadow, and you caught a family of deer standing just beyond the trees, watching you.

“Ohh! Lavender!” you announced, your eyes finding the purple flower swaying just to the right of you.

Sonny turned and found it. “I love lavender; it smells so good.”

“It’s a natural stress reliever! I infuse it with my oils and lotions,” you replied, smiling at him.

His eyes widened slightly. “Ya do? Do ya make lots of oils and lotions?”

“I’m trying to make more, actually, as well as soap; I only just started researching natural, herbal remedies. Now, if only I could keep my lavender alive,” you said sheepishly.

He gave you a grin. “Ya know, I grow lavender, too, fer the bees. Maybe I could take a look at yours? See if I can help?”

“Oh, would you please? I’d be so grateful!”

“Absolutely, doll. And maybe once ya have some oils, I can buy some off ya.”

You gave him a look. “You’re not giving me a cent; you didn’t charge me for that slice of apple pie, and I’m not charging you for oils. Besides, here.” You took a lavender flower between your thumb and forefinger, crushing it, then held your fingers to his nose. “Smell.”

He did as you asked, the intake of air tickling your skin. “That smells amazing,” he sighed.

“You can do that for a quick rush of stress relief; it’s for a quick fix, not long term. But it helps,” you explained.

He grinned widely at you. “Well, I’m certainly not stressed right now.”

You opened your mouth to slip out a retort when you heard a little chirping by your feet. You glanced down and Sonny must’ve heard it, too, because he also looked. He gently parted a patch of grass and uncovered a baby bird there. It looked barely old enough to leave its nest, so why was it there?

Sonny quickly ripped his plaid jacket off his shoulders—exposing the tight, white shirt and his strong arms—then swooped down. Carefully, he picked up the bird, who was chirping incessantly now.

“Poor little thing; probably didn’t succeed in his first flight,” he cooed, his expression soft as he looked at the creature. Then, he glanced up at you. “I’m sorry, doll. Do ya mind terribly if we cut our date a little short? I wanna take this little birdy home, make sure it’s okay before releasin’ him.”

You felt your respect for him grow. “Not at all. Mind if I tag along?”

“I’d love that,” he replied, smiling. 

************************

You followed Sonny to his cabin, the bird chirping constantly. He brought it inside, placing it on his kitchen table and taking a seat in front of it. You sat down next to him and watched the bird while he scrolled through article after article on his phone pertaining to nursing birds back to health.

“Okay, so, this here says that the bird may just be in shock, and to put it in a cardboard box with a slightly ajar lid or towel. Then wait ta see if it flies away,” Sonny explained.

You nodded. “Should we take it back to the meadow, then?”

“Yeah; it’s a lil’ far, and I don’t think he’ll know how ta get back….”

You stood, smiling, “then let’s take it back.”

Sonny found a small box, and he put the bird—still nestled in his jacket—inside. Then he gingerly picked up the box, and you both headed back the way you came.

“I’m sorry, doll,” he said after a few steps. “I’m just draggin’ ya all over the place, and fer no real reason, and we missed the sun settin’ in the meadow.” He looked to the darkening sky, and picked up the pace of his steps.

You placed your hand on his shoulder. “Sonny, you have nothing to be sorry for; you were trying to help an animal in need. If anything, that makes you more attractive.”

A pink tint appeared on his ears and the spots on his cheek that his beard didn’t cover. “You really think I’m attractive?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “One of the most attractive people I’ve met.” That dopey smile of his grew twice as wide.

**********************

You both waited in the meadow until the baby bird finally regained its senses and flew from the box. Then Sonny figured it was time to take you home. You linked your arm with his as you walked, and he walked closer to you, your body heat colliding.Once at your cabin, you searched for something to say, to keep him there; you weren’t ready to say goodnight yet.

“Oh! The lavender!” you announced, and Sonny smiled, as if he knew you were delaying. You tugged him back to your herb garden, and he took a close look at your slowly dying lavender with the light of his phone’s flashlight. He touched the crumbling leaves, then the soil, his brow furrowed.

“What kinda soil are ya usin’?” he asked, his voice serious.

You rose an eyebrow. “Just…regular, I guess?”

He nodded before looking up at the black sky covered in stars, judging what, you didn’t know. “Ya may need ta replant it elsewhere,” he finally said. “Ya need soil with good drainage; this soil is a little compacted. If ya separated it from the others, put it in soil mixed with grit, it should do wonders here.”

“Ugh, you’re a godsend, Sonny. I’ll dig it up and replant it tomorrow. Thank you so much,” you replied, giving him a hug.

He chuckled into your ear. “Don’t thank me yet; wait ta see if that fixes the problem first.”

You leaned back, nodding and smiling at him. He grinned back, and then you were kissing, his beard tickling your chin. You both still had your arms around the other, holding each other close as your lips moved against one another. He licked your lips, and you sighed, letting his tongue explore your mouth, rubbing and dancing with your own.

Slowly, he pulled his lips from yours, then snuck another small kiss, then another, and another. Finally, he rested his forehead against yours, both of you breathing in the other’s air.

“Best. First date. Ever,” you murmured, and he huffed out a laugh against your lips.

“Even with the bird?” he asked, making you laugh this time.

“Especially with the bird,” you replied, and he smirked before kissing you again. You could never tire of his lips against yours, his beard tickling your chin, leaving a slight rash. Your hands when to his soft hair, and you grabbed a handful, giving him a soft tug. Everywhere he touched sent fire through you, and with his body pressed up against yours, it felt like you were an inferno. And you knew that from this moment on, you didn’t want to be put out.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Is This What It Feels Like?

Prompt: Ahhh ur hurt/comfort is so good, if u want could you maybe write Patton not taking not taking care of himself and Janus helping him out and staging an intervention?

Thanks for the prompt babe! It is Project Onto Patton Time™ apparently.

Read on Ao3

Warnings: allusions to self-destructive behavior and depression, sympathetic everyone

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic I don’t care

Word Count: 2473

 Look, it’s not that Patton doesn’t think taking care of yourself isn’t important, it’s just that…well, there are a lot of other things that are, you know, more important.

Like, he has to make breakfast for everyone. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day! And they’ve talked about it; he likes doing it, the others like waking up to a good homemade meal every morning, so he has to do it. And that’s making it sound like such a chore, he has to do it, but Patton loves making breakfast for the others!

 Roman or Logan will help him most mornings. He’s not the earliest riser in the Mindscape so it isn’t uncommon for him to come downstairs to see either one of them in the kitchen. Logan always gets the coffee going first, glancing over his shoulder to say good morning and ask if Patton wants any. Normally the answer is no. But sometimes the answer is yes and Logan makes the perfect cup of coffee. Or when Roman is downstairs and there’s a mug of warm milk with just a dash of vanilla syrup waiting for him. And a Roman hug. Roman gives the best good morning hugs.

 So no, making breakfast for the others isn’t a chore, Patton enjoys it! And it’s so nice to see everyone in the morning too.

 It’s just that…well, sometimes, when it’s grey and his room feels like it’s frozen in an old black-and-white picture, the thought of food makes his stomach turn, and moving feels like it’s going to take every single ounce of his energy and more.

But that’s only sometimes! And it normally goes away after a few minutes of walking around so it’s fine.

 Or when he gets to spend time with everybody and go on the walks in the Imagination! Roman and Remus are really good at their jobs, okay, and it’s always a surprise to open the door and see what’s going on. The castles and the forests, and the streams and the animals that Patton can actually pet because Thomas’s allergies don’t perpetuate all the way to the Imagination so it’s all good! Even Logan can’t argue with that.

 Roman made this beautiful field of flowers the other day and they got to spend all afternoon out there. The sun wasn’t too warm, the breeze wasn’t too fast, and the flowers looked so pretty and perfect and there were so many colors and it was wonderful. Remus had the great idea a few hours in to make a thunderstorm and although Patton’s not the biggest fan of thunderstorms—they’re awful loud sometimes—it was truly magnificent.

 The sky has darkened to an almost bruised purple and the rain had been warm, so warm and it smelled so, so good. Big muddy puddles had formed and they’d been splattered with mud from jumping in by the time they tromped back to the Mindscape.

 Times like that are so important for Patton so of course he’s not going to miss them!

 Even when he can’t see all the colors and the smile he puts on feels a little like it’s been attached to his face for him, he’s still going to go because the joy is real, it just…takes a little longer to get there.

 Or when he has to take care of his kiddos.

 …they’re not perfect. They all know they’re not perfect. So there are…little hiccups.

 The world isn’t always the nicest place to be. Patton knows that. But…but it could be, so they have to do their part in helping make it a little kinder. So Patton tries to always make the choice to be kind, even when Thomas can’t.

 Virgil, just because of who he is, is prone to being a little more scared than the others. So it’s okay for him to look to them for reassurance, they’ve said so. And Patton is always happy for Virgil to come and ask for help, or even if he notices he’s looking a little more jittery than normal which is…often. But then he gets to help Virgil and that’s wonderful.

 Or Logan, who…struggles with reconciling his logical trait with the fact that he’s still a person under all that logic which means he’s got feelings. And he’s allowed to have them. So Patton can help with that! After all, feelings are part of his job, he wouldn’t be any good at it if he didn’t know what he was doing.

 Or Roman, who’s still struggling with…a lot. Whoo, Roman’s still carrying some heavy loads that he doesn’t really know how to put down. And he bruises really really easily. Through no fault of his own! So Patton can take care of him a little more, patch him up, make him feel a little less like he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

 The others are newer. Patton’s still figuring out how to help them when they’re upset. Remus in particular, just because of…things, Patton’s not exactly sure that he’s always doing the right thing to help Remus, But he knows Remus wants to be listened to, so he listens. Even if sometimes he thinks that some of Remus’s ideas are…scary, he’ll still listen. Because Remus wants to be listened to.

 Janus is…difficult. Patton’s never been very good at telling whether or not he’s lying. Whether or not anyone’s lying, really. Because, well…if you constantly assume the worst of everyone, that says more about you than it does about them, doesn’t it? It may be safer to not let yourself be kind, but…but that takes some of the joy out of life, doesn’t it? But Janus wants Thomas to be safe, so Patton talks with him about how to do that. That seems to help make him happy.

 So yeah. There are things that are very, very important to Patton. And he’s happy to make sure he does whatever he needs to do to make those happen.

 So it’s okay if sometimes he feels like he doesn’t have all the energy he needs to comfort one of his kiddos. Or when one of them knocks on his door in the middle of the night and he can’t keep his eyes open. They’re his famILY, of course he’s going to take care of them. They’re so important to him, they’re so important.

 He does get…a little frustrated with himself sometimes. Because he knows it’s not as easy as wham, bam, you’re all better, now you’ll never have issues ever again! Like, no, that’s not how this works. He knows that. So it’s to be expected that sometimes it’s a two-steps-forward-one-step-back kind of thing. Progress isn’t always linear.

 So he shouldn’t be feeling a little frustrated when Virgil can’t get all his words out in coherent sentences and his brain won’t stop muttering that he should know this by now, why can’t they just have all the words, because that’s rude. Virgil needs help and so they’re going to help him.

 So he shouldn’t be upset when he has to reassure Logan of the same thing over and over and over again. Logan’s logical trait keeps him from being able to say that he has feelings so he can do his job, and it’s to be expected that he would seek that reassurance. So Patton should be happy to give him that reassurance.

 So he shouldn’t be upset at Roman for always turning their conversations into things that he’s just realized are problems. Roman’s trust issues mean that Patton should be grateful that Roman’s comfortable enough to share this with him and that there should be things that Roman can feel comfortable coming to Patton about. Because Roman needs to talk about these things and hear that he’s okay so Patton should be able to do that.

 So he shouldn’t be scared of Remus’s ideas sometimes. Remus isn’t going to hurt them, not seriously, so he shouldn’t be afraid. Remus is a person, just like him, so he should be able to help like he does everyone else.

 After all, if most of these are Patton’s fault, he should be more than willing to help them, right?

 Right.

 So.

 There are things that are more important than Patton taking care of himself. He can do that later.

 At least, that’s what he says to Janus when Janus confronts him about not taking care of himself.

 “But it’s fine!”

 “Yes,” Janus drawls, raising an eyebrow, “I’m sure everything is just absolutely fine with everything you’ve just told me.”

 “Well, good!” Patton flashes him a smile and turns away.

 “Wait, no, Patton—“ Janus reaches out and gently blocks Patton’s path— “that was sarcasm.”

 “Oh.” Patton tilts his head. “I don’t understand.”

 “��what sarcasm is?”

 “Oh, no, no, no, I know what that is. I just don’t understand what’s wrong.”

 “You’re running yourself into the ground, Patton,” Janus says quietly, “and it’s hurting you.”

 “But I’m fine!”

 “Let me ask you a question.” Janus folds his arms. “When was the last time you did something for yourself?”

 “Myself?” Patton tilts his head. “Oh! I helped Roman make breakfast this morning.”

 “That’s something for us, or at the very least something for Roman.”

 “…I guess. Um, I went for a walk with Logan yesterday. Have you been to Remus’s new cave system yet? They have these really cool—“

 “I’ve been,” Janus interrupts gently, “and did Logan ask you on that walk?”

 “…well, yeah.”

 “So that was for Logan.”

 Patton grumbles. “What are you asking me, then?”

 “I’m asking when the last time you did something for you was.”

 “But those’re all also for me!” Patton wrings his hands in frustration. “I—I like spending time with them! I like helping them! Why can’t that also be for me?”

 Janus raises an eyebrow. “So it never feels like a chore? Or like you don’t have enough energy to do it the way you want to?”

 Patton’s mouth snaps shut. It—it shouldn’t. This is his famILY. They shouldn’t—it should not be a problem to help them. O-or spend time with them. It shouldn’t. It shouldn’t.

 Janus nods solemnly. “That’s what I thought.”

 “But that doesn’t matter,” Patton blurts, “it doesn’t. I don’t care if it sometimes feels like I can’t. I can, so I will.”

 “Just because you can doesn’t mean you should,” Janus says quietly, taking a step closer. “If it’s hurting you, Patton, you have to address that first.”

 “But I—“

 “If one of the others were doing this,” Janus says instead, “would you be reacting the same way?”

 Oh.

  Oh.

 Patton hangs his head. “…no.”

 “So you don’t have to be so hard on yourself.” A gentle hand cups his chin and lifts his gaze. “What’s making you feel so bad right now?”

 “I—I just—this is my job,” Patton mumbles, “and if I can’t do it, if I can’t fix what I did—“

 Janus cuts him off with a frown. “What did you do?”

 “I—well,” Patton stutters, “surely you—you’ve realized that—well, one of the reasons that Thomas—that everyone is—um—“

 Janus’s eyes widen. “Oh, Patton, tell me you’re not blaming yourself for every single problem in the Mindscape.”

 “…do you want me to lie?”

 Several expressions flicker across Janus’s face at once. “No, Patton,” he settles on eventually, “you don’t have to lie.”

 Patton shuffles uncomfortably. Janus seems to pick up on his discomfort—not that a lot gets past Janus—and cups Patton’s face in another hand.

 “Patton.”

 He looks up.

 “I’m not angry with you,” Janus says gently, “and I’m not trying to tell you that your feelings are wrong.”

 “Y-you’re not?”

 “No, Patton, I’m not.” Janus’s thumb strokes over his cheek. “I’m worried that you’re going to burn yourself out.”

 “How do I…not do that?”

 “Well, when was the last time you did something for yourself?”

 “I think we just established that I don’t know how to do that.”

 Janus smiles a little sadly. “You can let us help you too, Patton.”

 “…I’m not sure I know how to do that either.”

 In response, Janus leans back and shouts: “don’t get over here!”

 “What the fuck do you want?”

 “Janus? Is everything alright?”

 “What’s going on?”

 Then, of course, Remus just sinks straight in through the ceiling and drops to the floor.

 Roman bustles down the stairs with Logan at his heels.

 “Why’d you call, is—“ his eyes widen when he sees Patton— “Sunshine? What’s wrong?”

 “Patton, are you alright?”

 “Wait, Pop Star’s upset?” Ah, there’s Virgil. “What’d you need?”

 “By all means,” Janus chuckles when the rest of them just about swamp Patton, “do knock him over before he has a chance to answer any questions.”

 “Right,” Logan says, pulling Roman and Virgil away, “let’s do that f—“

 Remus tackles Patton onto the couch.

 “…or we can do that.”

 Remus makes himself comfortable, wrapping his arms tightly around Patton and purring contentedly.

 “I’m not hurting you,” he mutters too quiet for the others to hear, “am I?”

 “…no, no you’re good.”

 “This okay?”

 “Yeah.”

 “You sure?”

 Remus is solid and warm and—and—

 “Remus!” Roman rushes forward when Patton bursts into tears. “Oh, goodness, sunshine, are you—“

 “N-no, no, this—this is—I—“

 Virgil tilts his head and smiles. “This might be just what the doctor ordered.”

 Roman huffs. “Well, then we can do better than that.”

 “Oi!”

 “Oh, please, you know how ill-suited that couch is.”

 “Fine.”

 Remus tightens his grip on Patton and rolls off the couch, turning so Remus’s back hits something way softer than what the floor should be.

 “Remus,” he hears Logan scold.

 “You alright, Pop Star?”

 Patton’s still sobbing desperately into Remus’s shoulder.

 “So’re you all just going to stand around doing nothing or…?”

 Janus gently reaches down to remove Patton’s glasses, turning the world into a colorful smudge.

 “We should talk more about this when you can,” Logan murmurs, carding his hand through Patton’s hair, “but for now, just rest, alright? From what it looks like, you’ve been through a lot recently.”

 “I’ll say.” Roman tucks himself against Patton’s back. “You look exhausted, sunshine.”

 “Less talk more cuddle.”

 “No objections here.”

 “Close your eyes,” Janus murmurs, “and let us take care of you for once, hmm?”

 “Is—is this what it f-feels like?”

 “Yes,” Janus whispers as Remus tightens his grip on Patton’s waist, as Logan’s hands gently scratch across his scalp, as Roman presses warm and solid against his back, as Virgil puts on quiet music in the background, “this is what it feels like.”

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[aleksadnezz]

Sweet Night 5

Jae x Reader

“I’m sorry.” I said while still damping the tissue on his wet hoodie.

“It’s okay. What were you saying again?” He took the tissue from me and he do it on his own.

“Oh I was just gonna ask if you are?” I raised my lanyard to show the keychain to him. His small eyes widen when he saw it.

“How did you now?” He asked. So it’s true??? OMG!!!! My lips formed a big smile. I can’t believe, I’m going to tell it to Ara she would be excited.

“I saw your stuff animals’ collection.” I said cheerfully and pointed his shelves.

He looked at It and returned his eyes on me. He still looked confused so I tried to explain what I mean.

“I actually have a friend, she gave me this and she told me it’s a merch from a kpop group, you have the same so I assumed that you are..” He looked at me waiting me to continue speaking. I can clearly see the nervousness from his eyes. He might think that I’ll tell to other people what I know.

“You are a fan too.”

“Please don’t tell it to other people-“

We spoke at the same time but I heard what he said. He softly laughed and scratched the back of his nape.

“Yeah.. that’s right.. I’m a fan too.” He shyly said.

“Don’t worry I won’t say it.” I said, now I’m hesitating if I’m gonna share this to Ara. I bet she would be happy if I told her that I have a fanboy friend. It’s still weird for me to have a neighbor that is my friend too because I’m not that friendly. What in a bigbang theory is this, except that we’re both introverts and he don’t have a Sheldon.

“Uh have you seen or heard anything about that group?” He suddenly asked. I shook my head.

“Nah. I only know that they’re one of the kpop groups.” I said. I heard him laughed so I looked at him. “Why?”did I said something wrong?

“Nothing. I think they’re more of a kband than a kpop but that’s okay.” He explained. I know nothing about any of that but I like bands for sure I would like them. I almost forgot about the group that Ara said to me earlier, I’ll try to listen to them maybe I would like them too, the thing is I forgot their group name, I’ll just ask Jae if he knows it.

“By the way you know a kpop group that has kids in their name?”

“Stray Kids?”

“Yeah! that’s right, Stray Kids.”

“You like them?”

“Not really I’ll just start listening to them actually.” He nodded. “My friend will bring me to their concert so..”

“Really? That’s awesome.”

“You can come too. I will tell to my friend.” I suggest. Since he’s a fan too might as well invite him to their concert. “Have you attended a concert before? Because I haven’t” I laughed.

“Yeah I’ve been into some concerts, I perform there.” He said the last words under his breath so I didn’t hear it clearly.

“Ha?” I asked but he only shook his head and smiled at me.

“I’ll try to join you with your friend in the concert.”

“Cool!! I’d let you know..” I said. I wonder if he has other socials, but I still don’t know how his name spelled so it’s hard to find him. “Anyway, I think my job here is done so I’m now gonna head out. I have to feed the cat.”

We walked over his opened door. Before I turn and bid him goodbye he spoke.

“How’s Minnie by the way. I haven’t seen her.” He said. Of course you haven’t, you didn’t leave your room for a week.

“She eats a lot and whines a lot. So if you heard her in the middle of the night please don’t knock on my door.” He let out a smiley laugh where I can see his pearly white teeth and the disappearance of his eyes.

“It’s a cute cat. I won’t get mad.” He assures.

“I’ll keep that in my mind.” I raised my finger and pointed my head. I glance at his stretched lips, and that smile. what? I didn’t say that.

Today is Friday and I got off from work extra early. When this happens usually Ara and I would go to mall to window shop or I just accompany her but today she told me that she has something to go to. Also, I didn’t tell Ara about Jae yet, maybe soon if he agrees to come with us to the concert.

I went straight home after my shift so I can go to market. Minnie is running out of cat food supply and I’m running out of food too. I also want to have a chill night where I’d lay on my bed while I watch sum movies. I quickly changed my polo into a shirt and sweats. I wore the glasses that I only wear when I use my computer or phone. I went in front of my mirror to check myself. I stared at my reflection for a long time trying to examine what seems weird. Was it my face? I don’t have dirt on my face and I don’t look tired either. It’s the clothes. I look like Jae. Sweats and glasses, I look comfy as heck.

I don’t want to spend time just to change so I’ll just ignore that I accidentally dressed up as my neighbor, as if that I would bump into him today, I barely see that guy. I carry my tote bag with my phone and wallet in it, and I wore my slides. I left my apartment and locked it.

“You’re going out too?”

I jolted when I heard a voice. Speaking of my neighbor, in fact I don’t even have to turn around just to know who it is. Still, I turned around to face him.

“Yeah, just grocery and you?” Thank g he’s wearing a black hoodie while mine’s gray.

“I need to pick up something.” He said while he’s locking his door.

“Where do you grocery shop?” He asked. I waited him so we can walk together.

“Emart.”

“My way is also there; do you want a ride? I already booked a grab.” He showed me his phone with the said grab. I mean free ride? Of course I do.

“Sure.” The lift opens so we enter. From 15 floor going to ground floor is a long ride so I made myself busy by observing every single thing that I see here inside the lift. When we entered there are already sum people inside, 2 guys and a couple who can’t keep their hands off each other. Not that I’m judging them, but from what I can see, what they’re doing considered PDA already. Hugging, laughing and teasing like there’s no tomorrow.

I don’t know if those guys are annoyed too and just trying to ignore them or maybe it’s just only me. I glanced to Jae to see what he’s doing, looks like he’s not bothered at all. His left hand slipped inside the pocket of his pants; other hand is on his phone.

Another person entered the lift. I moved backwards so she can have space. The couple moves backwards too so they’re now standing beside me, I can even feel her bag nudging my arm but I tried to ignore it. Within a hot minute her arm hit my side causing me to bumped Jae. I looked at the couple as calm as I can possibly can.

“I’m sorry miss.” “sorry miss.” They both said in union.

“It’s okay.” I said calmy and showed my nicest smile. I want my afternoon to be chill and stress free plus I may see them again I want to protect my pure reputation as a good neighbor. Suddenly I felt a hand on my elbow that slowly pulled me closer to him. I felt an electric shock that send shivers all over my body. I stood frozen next to him because of how close we are. I can even smell his perfume, it’s like a mixture of fresh fruity and baby powder. I wonder where he bought it.

He let go of my arm when we reached the ground floor. We walked towards the entrance of the building but I stayed walking behind him. He looked back at me and stopped walking so I can catch up with him. When we got out the building, we can see that there’s a car already waiting. Jae made me get on first and I thought that he would sit beside the driver but he sat next to me.

It’s rush hour already and we we’re caught by traffic. I stared outside the car window like I always do when I commute. There’s time where I’m channeling my main character vibes when I look outside the window. None of us is taking and the sound from the cardio radio playing sum R&B soul songs was the only noise. Jae was busy scrolling through his phone, though I don’t want to bother him but I feel like I should speak.

“So where are you heading to?” I blurted out. I tried not to look at him directly so I stared at the driver’s seat.

“Somewhere near the TBD Company”

“Isn’t that where most celebrity’s hangout or sumthin?” I’ve never been into that area and I know that, that place is one of the richest districts.

“Well not all because I go there all the time.” He said before he turned off his phone and looked at me.

“Have you ever bumped to a celebrity?” I asked. For sure he had at least once, especially when he said that he have been there a lot.

“Just some of them. I’ve always seen Mark Tuan in a coffee shop that I go to, you know him?” Is he kidding? I think he’s the only famous person that I could remember that Ara ever told me. She showed me a video clip of him dancing and I think I forgot to breathe for a sec, plus he got the cutest smile. I must admit that prolly have a thing for people’s smile.

“You mean the very good-looking guy?” I said in awe and he laughed at my reaction. Well, I only said what know is true.

“Yeah, that very good-looking guy.” He said casually as if that he knows him but he’s still laughing. Wait if he seen some celeb then he might have seen his Kpop Idols.

“How about your favorite Kband? Day6?” I’m honestly just guessing, but I believe most of the company’s are located there so assume that they work there. Instead of answering me he let out a fake cough.

I immediately understood what he’s trying to say so I leaned to him and whispered. “Okay I won’t mention in public that you’re a Kpop fan.”I assure him. I find it funny that he’s getting conscious and shy about other people knowing that he’s a fanboy.

“No actually.. yeah alright, I’ll just take that.” Yeah, whatever Jae. I looked outside and saw that we’re almost near the market, I turned to Jae and poked him.

“You can drop me off here.” He nodded.

“Mr. can you pull over to the next street.” Jae said.

“Thank you for the ride Jae.”

“No worries, what time you will be done?”

“I don’t know I may take a while.” I may take a while since I don’t have a grocery list so I’ll prolly have to go to every aisle to remember all the stuff that I needed, a life hack that I learned when I started living on my own.

The driver pulled the car off the road. I turned to Jae before I opened the door.

“Thank you again.” I said and he smiled. I opened the door and got off the car. I waited for them to leave before I enter the market.

1 2 3 4 5

[champagne-bucky]

The Princess & the Stable Boy

Summary: Steve loves you. You don’t. He has a way of changing that. With a little help from Loki, anything is possible.

Warnings: Royal AU, dark!Steve x Reader, loss of virginity, somnophilia, non-con smut

Notes: haaaaaa.... okay so I’m VERY late to this challenge, but I still wanted to do it because I already had my idea ready. This challenge was by @the-soulofdevil​ and I chose to do Steve and a Royal AU. I hope I did it justice and I’m so so sooooo sorry @the-soulofdevil​ for taking extremely long. I really hope you enjoy it!!!

“So this is love, mmmhmm, so this is love…”

Steve watched quietly from a stall he was tending to as you sang. You had such a beautiful voice and Steve loved hearing anything that came out of your mouth. He remembers the first day your father brought you here, so young, ambitious, and had a heart for animals.

You had begged your father for months to teach you how to ride a horse. You admired how graceful and elegant they looked while trotting around in the open fields. Plus, your father and his men always rode those majestic beings and you couldn’t help but envy how they always got to do the fun things you couldn’t.

Which brings Steve to today. It had taken years and years of practice, but you finally managed how to properly ride and groom a horse. Steve had trained you himself, much like his father did him. Over time, he got lost in the sweet smell of your perfume and your soft to the touch skin. Steve had been completely enamored by you from the first day he met you. The only problem was you didn’t notice him.

Well, you did, obviously because he had taught you how to properly ride. You just didn’t notice him the way that he noticed you. Steve was just a servant to you and nothing more. You didn’t treat him badly, but you regarded him more as a teacher than a friend.

“What’s got you all happy?” You jumped back and Steve snuck around behind you. He always had a habit of sneaking up on people.

“Oh nothing, father just told me that he’s planning on throwing another ball, that’s all,” Steve bit back his anger.

Your father had been throwing parties every so often to get you to meet somebody. It bothered Steve that your father was trying so hard to get you to find someone. He was so eager to marry you off but knew that he couldn’t arrange a marriage for you.

Long ago, your ancestors had made it a rule that no younger child should be married off unless if was with a spouse of their choice. Seeing as you had an older sister that was married off, and happily at that, your father was not allowed to intervene.

Steve thought that this rule was pretty great, for him. On the other hand, you had expressed your disinterest in Steve from the moment you found out he liked you.

You weren’t stupid, you knew Steve had liked you for quite some time, but he wasn’t taking any hints. Every time he made an advance, you would push him away. He seemed to respect that, but who knows for how long.

“So, uh, I guess I’ll be going. I’ll be meeting you in a few days, yes?” Steve nodded as he excused your departure.

“Poor boy,” Steve jumped back, “stupid, stupid, boy,” Steve huffed as the groundskeeper, Loki, came out of the shadows.

“Can I help you?” Steve was in no mood to talk to the snarky groundskeeper.

“No, but I can help you,” Steve looked at the diabolical man confused.

“The princess, you seek her, yes?” Steve replied a quiet ‘yes’.

“I can help you get what you want.”

“Oh, really? I find that too good to be true,” Steve scoffed at the man.

“If it’s the girl’s heart you want, then go after it,” Loki walked around the stable boy.

“What do you mean? I can’t go to the ball, I wasn’t invited,” Loki chuckled.

“No, no you weren’t, but I can sneak you in,” Steve was listening now.

“Clean yourself up and meet me at the west wing of the castle by the old garden. Come alone and do not tell anyone where you are going,” before Steve could muster a response Loki stalked off.

__

Steve managed to bathe and find some of the nicest clothes that he owned. He moved fast and silently so that no guards would be able to see him lurking by the castle at this hour. Only the royal family, royal visitors, and castle servants were allowed in.

“You’re late,” Loki replied as he emerged from a dark corner of the gardens.

“I’m sorry, but it’s not exactly like you gave me a time limit to go off of,” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Now how am I getting in?” Loki looked him up and down with a look of disgust.

“Oh, you’re not going in that travesty are you?” Steve huffed at Loki’s rude tone.

“Look, this is the nicest stuff that I own. God, I knew I was wasting my time listening to you,” Steve lost all hope of getting into the ball and wooing you. He began to turn around and head home, but not until Loki stopped him. Steve turned around as the disappointed look on his face transformed into a look of curiosity.

Loki’s outfit hand changed from simple rags into a sleek black pants suit with a flattering cloak. In this cloak, he dipped his pale hand in and brought out a matching sleek black wand. He waved it around a few times until it lit up an immaculate green color. Steve scrunched his brows together in confusion.

“Now that I’m out of my horrid outfit, let’s work on yours,” Loki lifted his wand and started to aim it at Steve.

“What the- you’re crazy. I’m getting out of here,” Steve tried to run as the green glow chased him through the old garden. He was no match for the fast ball of light, as it captured him and wrapped him up.

The green light soon faded and it left in its place an outfit fit for the king himself. A fine tailored suit made of the finest of materials. Golden buttons had lined the front and his rough, calloused hands were covered with soft, white gloves. He looked like a prince.

“You have until dawn to make that girl yours. Don’t screw it up,” Loki tucked his wand back into his cloak and began to stalk off.

Steve looked down again at his magnificent suit. All this for him? There has to be some sort of payment for this right? Everyone knows that magic has a price.

“Why do you want to help me so bad?” Steve yelled before Loki walked away.

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for a happy ending,” and Loki disappeared into the night.

Before Steve could ask anything else Loki was gone. It was now up to him to find the girl of his dreams and make her his before dawn.

__

It was ridiculously easy to sneak into this ball. Thanks to Steve’s new look, the knights guarding the doors didn’t take a second glance at the stable boy turned imposter prince. He walked right into the dance hall and began to search high and low for you. It didn’t take too long.

There you were, sitting on a throne right next to your father as you watched the guests dance and drink the night away. You couldn’t have been more bored if it weren’t for the music picking up its pace every so often. A bunch of eligible suitors (no doubt hand picked by your father) had come up to you to ask for a dance, but you politely sent everyone one of them away.  You really didn’t have this much interest in the glamorous side of things that came with being a royal. No, you craved simplicity and even normalcy. Just once it would be nice to not be called ‘princess’ or ‘king’s daughter’.

Having enough of the ball, you tried to slink your way out of the room, but not before a gloved hand caught the sleeve of your dress.

“Princess, may I have this dance?” You looked at the suitor and immediately recognized who it was. How did he get in here?

“Steve?” You were in disbelief. If anyone were to have found out that he snuck in he would be thrown in with the rest if the prisoners.

“I’ve been searching for you all night, my lady. Please do me the honor of just one dance.”

Part of you wanted to run away and call the guards. It was bad enough that Steve was down your neck constantly when you both went riding, now it’s gone too far. However, if you made a scene your father would surely take the matters into his own hands. He loved his children and would kill for them if the moment called for it. God, you didn’t want to be responsible for Steve’s murder, all he was looking to do was have one dance with you.

“Okay fine, but only one dance then you have to leave before my father sees you here,” you grabbed his hand and made sure to stay out of your father’s line of sight.

__

One dance turned into two, then two turned into five. It was safe to say that you actually did enjoy your small time with Steve. He was light on his feet and swayed through the ballroom like he’s done this a million times before.

The night was wearing thin as people began to leave. Your father would come looking for you as soon as he notices you’re nowhere in the ballroom to be found. You and Steve had danced your way out of the castle and onto the large balcony.

“I have to go now, Steve,” you murmured into his broad shoulder.

“You said that many dances ago,” he smiled as he held you closer. Finally, he was getting what he wanted.

“I mean it now,” you pulled away, “my father will be looking for me,” Steve frowned as you started to pull away.

“I’ll let you go, but just one more thing,” it was now or never.

You gasped as you dodged Steve’s kiss out of the way. He didn’t think that this was building up to something was it? You were just trying to appease him so you wouldn't have needed to make a scene earlier.

“Steve, I’m sorry. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I was just being friendly to you that’s all,” Steve’s face looked as if it had lost all hope.

His true love, his one true love, didn’t reciprocate.

“I did all of this for you! What are you trying to say? After all I did for you you can’t show me some respect!” Steve started to get angry, you didn’t like it.

“Steve, I’m sorry,” before he could do anything worse, you took off in a sprint.

Steve tried to run after you. He almost caught you, but you were smart and started yelling for the guards. He knew something terrible would happen to him if he stayed any longer, so he began to flee.

He heard the heavy footfalls of guards running to check on you. Your guilty conscience prohibited you from saying anything about Steve and his advances. Instead, you made up a lie to them saying that you felt pains in your stomach and needed to be carried back to your room.

Steve ran back the way that he came in. No guards were in sight as it seemed they were either rushing to your aid or getting your family to alert them on what had happened. He was dead, he thought. You were going to see to it that he’d be murdered before dawn.

He thought the plan was full proof, he thought it was going to work. That would fall for him and get married and live happily ever after, but no. Happy endings didn’t happen by the grace of God. No, Steve needed to take matters into his own hands.

Red in the face and out of breath, Steve approached the tiny village of where he and the other servants slept. Quietly, he made his way to the small hut where Loki lived. He would be asleep by now anyways.

He sauntered in without a peep and began to look around. He needs to find that wand.

__

It took a lot of stealth and breath holding, but Steve managed to achieve his goal. He found the wand placed securely under the floorboards after an uneven floorboard gave it away. Loki should’ve hidden it better if he wanted to keep his secret life still secret.

The night was still and there was not a soul in sight. Steve had managed to get back to the old garden undetected and slip past some guards. He was still in his suit and gloves, so it made it look as if he was just another royal staying the night.

He didn’t know where your room was per se, but after badgering a few maids that were still up and about they pointed him in the right direction. How was he going to manage to persuade the guards outside your door to let him in? Well, he wasn’t. There was no way in hell they would let anyone disturb the princess’s sleep. Steve has to act fast.

Steve found another room that seemed vacant. The doors were unlocked and they led out onto a small balcony. If he were just really careful, he could slink his way to your room. God, he hopes he doesn’t fall.

__

Steve got to your balcony and pushed open the doors. Steve patted himself on the back for the great success. There were no locks on them as who would ever think to put a lock on doors so high up in a castle.

He took a deep breath and walked over to you. There you were, in a peaceful sleep, desperate to probably forget about the tragedy that took place a few hours prior. Steve walked closed to you and bent down. His breath fanning your face as he brushed his hands through some stay locks of hair. Your breathing became lighter and your movements grew frequent. You were waking up, but Steve didn’t care, he had a plan in motion.

Your eyes fluttered open as your sleep was disturbed. It took you a minute to decipher the blurry figure in front of you. Steve? Your heart rate increased as you tried to sit up and scream. Before you could he covered your mouth and pushed you back down into the plush blankets.

“Shh, my lady, it’s okay. I’ll make this all go away, you’ll see,” you began to cry as Steve pulled Loki’s wand out from the inside of his coat.

You eyed the wand in fear, what were his plans? He held you down with one hand, but you were still flailing about. He tsked at you a few times before he tapped the wand. It started to glow a haunting hue and you cried out more.

“Rest easy, princess, it’ll all be over soon,” Steve waved the wand in front of your face a few times and you felt your eyes getting heavy with sleep. Steve removed his hand from your mouth and you began to whimper and beg.

“Please, Steve, no,” were your last words before you went to sleep.

__

This was it. Showtime. Steve was finally alone with you, something he had been dreaming about since the first day he fell in love with you.

“What to do, what to do,” Steve took the sheets off of your body and admired your figure. A simple nightgown, so sheer because of the climate, but so revealing.

He admired the outlines of your breasts, your nipples peeking out. The way the gown rode up a bit so it was at the top of your thighs. Your arms bare and hair all over the pillow. Immaculate.

Steve felt himself straining against his suit pants as he tried to palm himself to relieve some of the pressure. He finally got what he wanted.

He leaned in and got his kiss first. Your lips are so sweet and soft, he could do this all day. Then he began to touch you with his big hands. Steve touched your hair, your cheeks, traced your lips, brought down the straps around your shoulders. He kissed both shoulders and began to slide the gown down.

Your breasts were more than perfect. So soft and supple that he had to put his mouth around one while his fingers played with the other. They got hard within a matter of seconds. Steve wished you were awake so that he could hear your sweet sounds. This was everything he imagined it could be.

He kissed down your valley and took the gown with him. He made his way to your belly button and kissed above it. Maybe next time he does this that part will be swollen with his child. The thought of that made him get harder. It was getting hot in that little room, Steve began to rid himself of his clothes before he got any further.

Now he was naked in the pale moonlight with you under him, just a pesky piece of fabric in the way. He yanked it completely off out of impatience. He didn’t know how long this moment would last so he needed to make quick work of it.

You looked even more beautiful than you did with clothing on. Steve moaned at the sight of your body. He moaned at the sight of you all bare and compliant to him.

“Oh honey, I wish you could see us right now,” he leaned down and spread your legs apart. You were dry, but Steve was going to take care of that.

He used his skillful tongue and fingers to open you up and get you ready. He kept checking to make sure you weren’t waking up, but it looked like it wouldn't be anytime soon. However, he had to be fast just in case someone came in.

Once he was sure you were wet enough, Steve gave himself a few pumps to his cock and guided himself in. It was so warm, so wet, so tight, it felt like heaven. He pushed himself in more and more, but had to stop short. A little barrier was in his way.

“You saved this for me didn’t you, my lady,” Steve smirked and pushed through breaking the symbol of innocence.

He thrusted in at a slightly fast pace. Steve had been deprived and this is just what he needed. He wishes you were awake. Steve could just imagine those lewd moans coming from your mouth, just begging you to move faster.

“Don’t worry, honey, next time I’ll make sure you cum, but right now we gotta take care of me,” Steve bit his lip from crying out.

He grabbed your hips he hovered over you. Smashing his face into your breasts he went faster and faster until he couldn’t take it anymore. Steve came deep inside of you, no doubt that he might’ve given you a child, but he knew how to take care of that later.

Steve removed himself from you as he watched his cum drip out of your tight little hole, some blood mixed in it as well. He quickly got dressed and put the nightgown back on you as well as the sheets. He had much to prepare for in the coming days.

__

The king has been outraged lately. Rumors have been spreading around the village as to why. Only Steve knew the cause of the outrage, but never spoke about it.

He hadn’t seen you again since that night. He imagines that the maids had found the blood on your sheets and began to ask questions. Come to think of it, no one has seen you outside of the castle since the night of the ball. Steve guessed that he was out of the clear since no one had come to collect him for the crime he committed.

A crime of passion, Steve would think to himself.

Loki had not mentioned anything to him about the wand either. Steve made sure to place it back where it came from when he ran back home after that night. Loki didn’t even press him for details about the ball. Just a simple “how was it?” and that was the end of that topic.

Days had gone by and then weeks without seeing you. Usually if you couldn’t attend riding lessons someone would’ve reached out to Steve to let him know, but there was no word from anyone. Around this time is when Loki decided to act suspicious.

“The princess seemed to have stopped her lessons,” he nonchalantly said to Steve.

“Maybe she’s just sick and no one thought to tell us. I’m sure the princess will return soon,” Steve tried to end the conversation.

“I heard they’re on a manhunt looking for the coward that took her virtue,” Steve faltered, but kept his composure.

“Rumors are rumors, Loki. Don’t believe everything you hear,” Steve was starting to sweat.

“I heard from one of the chambermaids that when she finally woke, there was blood on the sheets. The physician examined her and found that she had been taken. She won’t give up any names, so her father is combing through all the guards and servants,” Loki knows, Steve thought.

“Has anyone come forward?”

“Not that we know of. Everyone is too afraid of what the king might do,” Steve shuddered.

“It happened the night of the ball. The princess was dancing with a man before she had to go. It must’ve been a guest from the party,” Loki kept on talking as Steve tugged his collar.

“Poor soul, if he just were to come forward he can accept his fate a lot faster,” Loki turned to Steve.

“The king is offering a reward you know? Anyone who knows any information will be given a healthy sum of money for compliance. You know what I would do if I had that money, Steve,” Steve shook his head.

“I could make the punishment a lot less worse for you,” he knew.

“H-How did-”

“Oh I’m not an idiot. I heard you that night poking around. You’re not exactly a light foot are you?”

“Are you going to turn me in?” That was it, no more true love.

“I have a proposition for you. I turn you in and I change the king's mind,” Steve was confused.

“What?”

“I turn you in, I get my reward money, before the king has your head on a plate I wave my wand and the girl is yours forever,” Loki’s eyes darkened.

“Why would you help me?”

“For years I’ve been stuck here. I helped the royal advisor out more times than I could count. I was always promised a promotion, a chance to get out of this village, but no. I’ve been screwed over more times than I could count. I want my revenge. I want my happy ending,” Loki looked almost vicious.

“And in return, I get my princess?” Loki responded with a ‘yes’.

“You get your princess and you’ll be prince. I get to move on up the ranks with you. Then it’s king and queen for the both of you. I help you and you help me.”

“And if I don’t want to come forward against my own will?”

“Then I’m sure the king will love to add a severed head to his mantle,” Steve gulped.

“So, what do you say?” Loki stared him down with his darkening eyes.

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

__

“My lady, the king has called for you,” you arose from your chair and made your way down to the throne room.

It had been nearly a month since the incident had occurred. You think you know who’s responsible, but you have no proof besides the blood on your sheets. Steve must’ve done something to you, or maybe it was a guard? The night was all fuzzy, but you remembered Steve being there at one point, trying to kiss you during the ball.

“Daughter, please stand by me,” you entered the room and saw the man you feared the most, and next to him was the groundskeeper, Loki.

“Yes, father,” your father grabbed your hand and walked you towards Steve.

“Daughter, why didn’t you tell me you were involved with Sir Steven,” you were confused. The two of you were never involved.

“Father I-”

“We explained everything to him, my lady. There’s no need to keep secrets,” Steve grabbed your hands and gave you a looked that dared you to challenge him.

“While I am glad of your impending union, I do express my disappointment. Ladies are supposed to keep their virtue until the wedding night,” this couldn’t be happening could it?

“I understand, your royal highness, but life had a way of getting in the middle,” Steve had pressed his front against your back now.

Your father chuckled, “You don’t need to explain anything to me, son. I’m glad we all could work this out. Y/N, I’ll send over the bishop to go over the union. We need to marry you two as soon as possible!”

Your father walked away with Loki by his side. You tried to break away from Steve’s grip, but he held you in tight. He kissed your cheek as tears started to fall.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because, my lady, we were always meant to be together. You just had yet to see,” he put a hand over your abdomen.

“I can’t wait till our wedding night, can’t you? Can’t wait for you to see what you’ve missed out on,” Steve kissed your cheek again as you cried out.

So this is love, mmmhmmm.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

I Ain’t A Judas (part two)

[Off-West End]

TW: Blood

-------------------------------------

Lynn had seen her fair share of gruesome injuries in her time, both as an active sports player and gym coach. 

When she was on her high school’s wrestling team, she vividly remembered throwing her (male, mind you) opponent to the ground and hearing the distinct sound of bones cracking. There was something haunting about being on top of a person while their skeleton seemed to fold inward, having her ear so close to that sickening snap. The resulting nightmare-inducing scream was actually a mercy to the other noise.

She had scrambled off of the boy, backing away on her hands and knees like she was a scared animal. Her opponent must have landed wrong when she pinned him because his knee was bent at an unnatural angle and he was screaming bloody murder. Someone in the audience threw up. Someone else fainted. The boy’s parents rushed over to him and began yelling.

The parents had tried to sue Lynn for the broken leg, but the school defended her, saying it wasn’t her fault and injuries were to be expected in sports. She obtained a title of sorts, being one of the most feared wrestlers in the district. She took it with honor, despite its double-edged outcomes.

The experience desensitized her to all types of gore, but not without a price. For a while, she was sensitive to any sound that resembled snapping bones. Even a foot stepping on a twig was enough to bring back the memory of the boy and the broken leg. She got over it eventually, but at the time, it had been hell.

Injuries became repetitive after that. Broken arms, broken legs, broken noses- she saw it all when she became a coach. They always went the same way, too- that damned snapping sound, a limb bent at an angle that wasn’t normal, screaming that was so loud it could probably break the sound barrier, everyone in the general vicinity panicking like chickens with their heads cut off. Not that Lynn blamed them for such a reaction; she supposed it wasn’t ever the same after you were chest-to-chest with someone when the injury happened.

But in sports, broken bones were the worst thing that could be inflicted upon someone. Scratches, bruises, black eyes, bloody noses, even the broken bones themselves to some extent were nothing compared to other horrors. So as the repetition of injuries continued its cycle, Lynn believed nothing could get worse than that time back in high school.

And then she entered the darkened White bungalow and saw Carrie on the ground, surrounded by blood and covered in blood and frothing up blood, and that way of thinking was thrown out the window.

This. This was worse.

Lynn used to think that the screaming was the worst part of any injury, regardless of severity. That elongated, guttural sound of agony that the victim didn’t have the power to mute or muffle, bearing completely raw emotion, ripped out from the throat without control or consent. 

But as Lynn had knelt above Carrie White’s body, she now knew that the screaming was a mercy. The silence was the real thing that she should have been fearing all these years.

The screaming, at least, as awful as it was, meant the victim was alive. Even with their mind clouded with agony, they were sentient enough to even feel that agony. They were there, they knew, they could feel.

Carrie White was not, did not, could not.

The silence did not bring serenity. The silence did not bring peace. The silence brought panic- overwhelming, blood-rushing panic that made Lynn feel like she was standing in the middle of a rushing white water river, battered by the current. It made everything fall away into little broken pieces that would never be able to form its proper puzzle ever again. It made her feel true, unadulterated, unbridled terror for the first time since she was sixteen and in a gymnasium that smelled of salt and sweat with another kid screaming his heart out right beneath her.

It made her feel helpless.

And then, as if a giant log had been hurled from the raging river of dread and hit her in the face, awareness came rushing back to her. She stopped the flow of tears that she had not been able to fight back in those initial moments of hysteria and got her head on straight. 

Sue was there, holding Carrie’s body close to her chest. Margaret was there, too, face-down on the floor, unmoving, but Lynn could have hardly cared. Her focus was entirely on the young girl bleeding all over the place before her.

The cause of that bleeding didn’t feel real, either.

  “Her throat. She slit her throat.”

Lynn remembered watching something on TV, one of those cookiecutter crime shows that had been copy and pasted dozens of times before, saying something about how a throat wound could bleed out within minutes, if not seconds. She cursed her school training for not teaching her how to deal with this, opting instead to make all the teachers relearn the heimlich maneuver and CPR for the hundredth time in a row.

When she took Carrie’s small, shaking body into her arms, she discovered something worse than the silence. The gurgling. That wet, foamy sound that gargled in the back of Carrie’s throat, so desperate for proper articulation and enunciation, choked back by a torrent of her own blood. It may have meant she was still alive and fighting, but Lynn much preferred the silence.

Unwrapping Sue’s shirt from around Carrie’s neck and actually gazing upon the wound felt like a physical knife against Lynn’s throat. She had never been one of those people who could feel pain from watching others get hurt, and yet, in that moment of raw horror, she swore she could feel her own flesh being sliced open, muscles and tendons snapping away like weak thread, vessels punctured and windpipe split, slowly filling her lungs with her own blood, drowning her, restricting breathing--and then she realized she wasn’t breathing. Not while she looked at the gash. It used its severed arteries as a noose and strangled her, so she strangled it back.

Even with the hideous green and brown curtains wrapped around the wound like bulky bandages, Carrie’s neck was still so small. Lynn’s hands were so large. She felt like she was trying to asphyxiate a baby bird.

Lynn realized then that the experience in the gym was not the most horrific thing she had ever witnessed. At least she was a teenager when it happened. Being an adult and squeezing onto a child’s slashed open throat hurt in more ways than she could truly express. There was just something so fucking terrifying about being the one to pinch gushing blood vessels closed, to be the hands around a dying girl’s throat, to be the one and only defining factor to if that girl would survive the night. Even though she knew it had to be done, Lynn wanted to cut her hands off for the things they had done in those horrifying six minutes before the ambulance arrived.

Carrie’s eyes had looked so dull, so lifeless. It was a stark contrast to half an hour before she was bleeding out all over the place, when they were full of joy and life.

Lynn had never seen Carrie so happy before. She had never seen her dance, either, which made everything pre-blood dump even better. Carrie looked like a normal teenage girl, having fun at her school prom, being treated as she should have been all these years.

Lynn remembered, clear as day, those hours before the destruction.

Carrie had truly stuck out like a sore thumb in the Prom, but not in the way that any of her bullies had been expecting. The dress she wore, hand-sewn herself she had said, was soft pink and seemed to glitter in the overhead lights. Her red hair was brushed back to neatness, though that one iconic lock of bangs still dangled in front of her left eye. When they had spotted each other, Lynn was endeared to watch Carrie rip away from Tommy and run over to her in her heels. 

  “Miss Gardener, you look incredible!” Carrie had exclaimed.

  “Thank you, Carrie,” Lynn said. “You look beautiful.” As shy and modest as always, Carrie ducked her head and said, “Oh, thank you.”

Tommy had then walked over to them. “Miss Gardener, I don’t think I would ever see you in a dress.”

Lynn gave him a sharp look. “Tommy.” 

Tommy cleared his throat. “You guys want some punch? I heard Stokes and Freddy spiked it.”

  “Oh no,” Carrie said in a woebegone voice. “Isn’t it dangerous to drink spikes? What if someone chokes?”

  “Really?” Lynn said to Tommy at the same time.

Tommy had laughed, then noticed Lynn’s unamused, deadpan expression. He stopped instantly.

  “Uh-- No.” He said. “I’m joking.” He rubbed his palms on his black pants. “I’m going to get us some of that punch! Which is not spiked!”

Lynn rolled his eyes as he skittered away, then turned her attention back to Carrie. She looked so amazed as she gazed around the Prom, like it was the nicest event she had ever been to.

She and Carrie had talked until Tommy came back, but it wasn’t the last she would see of the girl. She chatted with her several times during the night, even danced with her on a few occasions. It was nice to see her smile after everything.

But of course, it had been ruined. Would Carrie ever get to experience true bliss without someone taking it away from her?

The memory of the blood dump had brought Lynn back to the present, to the blood on her hands on that moment. Every time she would lift them long enough for Carrie to get air, more would gush out, and she slammed them back into place every time, desperate to halt the flow. She wouldn’t have taken them away at all if Carrie wouldn’t have suffocated from the pressure on her neck. 

Lynn thought about Chris when she was effectively strangling Carrie. Her own will was keeping her from adding the proper weight to Carrie’s neck, so she made herself angry to compensate for the thing she really didn’t want to do.

How could anyone be so cruel? Especially to someone who didn’t deserve such treatment? Lynn imagined it was Chris beneath her hands, and that made her squeeze tighter.

She knew it had been Chris, and not just because of her gut feeling. Norma had told her.

During the panic of laughter and shock and confusion after the blood dump, Lynn had found Norma Watson, Chris’s second-in-command, in the crowd. For a moment, she didn’t know if it was even really her, as she wasn’t used to seeing her without her trademarked red backwards hat, but then recognized her snarky face and grappled onto her with her nails dug in. However, when Norma looked at her, her face was anything but snarky. It was horrified.

  “What happened?” Lynn had demanded. “Who did this?”

  “Chris,” Norma told her instantly. She looked back to the stage, to the blood dripping off the edge. “I-I didn’t know it was blood…”

  “What?”

Norma shook her head, mouth hanging open.

  “Norma!” Lynn dug her nails in further. She didn’t care if it got her fired, she had to know. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Norma looked back at her, wide-eyed and sickened. “I didn’t know it was real blood.” She said. “Chris-- she said it was red water. Just dyed with food coloring. I didn’t think she would--”

Lynn had released her, noticing that Carrie was now gone. She couldn’t stick around any longer. 

Before she rushed away, she could have sworn she faintly heard Norma utter, “I’m sorry.”

When the paramedics finally came rushing in, Lynn did not let go of Carrie. She couldn’t risk it, not anymore. Not when they were so close to salvation. The paramedics let her stay by the girl’s side until they got to the actual hospital, but then not even she could remain. She had to peel her hands back, and they were completely covered in blood.

She and Sue sat in the waiting room for what felt like forever, when it was really only two and a half hours at best. They spoke to each other in brief, choppy instances. The stink of guilt wavering off of Sue was sickening--though, that may have just been the stench of the rancid pig blood and regular human blood mixed together into a miasma upon their skin.

When the nurse finally came out and walked up to them, Lynn had been expecting the worst. Surely such a lethal wound take longer to treat. But it didn’t, apparently, because the nurse said that Carrie was stable and Carrie was going to live and they would be able to see her if they liked.

They did.

Lynn and Sue both comforted Carrie when she woke up. Her voice was very hoarse and weak, and Lynn guessed that was both because of her throat wound and from her having to strangle her to keep her from bleeding out.

Carrie didn’t seem very happy to be alive, but then Lynn realized she didn’t have much to live for in the first place. Her mother was all she had, and now even she was gone (the doctors said it was a heart attack). Lynn was hoping to take the place of that empty maternal role and give Carrie the life she deserved. She just wanted to see her happy again.

It was one in the morning when Lynn finally left the hospital. Since she had rode in the ambulance, Sue’s mother dropped her off back at the White bungalow to get her car. 

The place was already swarmed with yellow tape and crime scene investigators. A few neighbors were standing out on their porch, watching the scene. Red and blue lights lit up the dark street. A police officer walked up to Lynn while she was trying to get to her car and began asking her questions about what happened.

By the time she got home, Lynn was mentally and physically drained. The first thing she did when she pulled up in her driveway was step out of her car and throw up in the lawn. Carrie’s blood was still on her hands.

Lynn lost her complete sense of time when she took a shower. She stood beneath the spray of scalding hot water and blankly watched blood run down the drain. She dimly wondered if this was what Carrie saw That Day in the locker room.

She finally broke when she got out of the shower. Staring at her own reflection in the fogged up mirror, she crumpled. Everything she had been holding back hit her like brass knuckles and she sunk to the floor, sobbing.

The tears stopped, eventually. When Lynn dredged herself from the bathroom floor, she went downstairs, started a fire in her fireplace, and threw her blood-stained Prom dress into the flames.

She would not be getting sleep tonight.

--

Carrie was permitted to leave the hospital two days later. By then, it seemed like everyone in the whole country had heard of what happened. Apparently a few reporters had even tried to sneak into the hospital under the guise of being family members to do an interview with Carrie, but were wrangled out.

Carrie herself looked no better than the day she came in. Her hair was wiry and tangled, and her skin was very, very ashen. Her eyes were dead, sunken into two pits in her skull. When Lynn had stepped into the hospital room, her gaze did not brighten like Lynn had been hoping. She just stared at her with a blank expression.

Lynn was given strict instructions to keep an eye on Carrie’s neck, to come in if even a single stitch popped out. Carrie was prescribed tramadol, which she should take a few hours after arriving home. If Lynn’s house could even be considered her home.

The drive was silent. Lynn tried to fill the space, but Carrie never responded. Hell, she barely even looked at her. All she did was look out the window with the same dead fish look in her eyes.

Was this even still the little girl she had danced with at Prom?

  “Here we are,” Lynn said as she parked. “There’s someone waiting for you inside. I’ve told them all about you.”

Carrie tensed. Lynn realized her mistake and quickly went on, “They’ll like you, I promise. It’s nothing bad.”

Carrie’s anxiety did not go away. Lynn quickly unbuckled both of their seatbelts (had Carrie ever even ridden in a car before?), then led Carrie inside. Instantly, Carrie flinched, probably expecting someone awful to be waiting there for her, but instead a grey pit bull bounded up to them, tail wagging so fast it became a blur. Carrie relaxed slightly.

  “You have a dog.”

It was the first thing Carrie had said to her all day. Lynn smiled and nodded, scratching behind the dog’s ear.

  “I never told you?”

Carrie shook her head.

  “Well, her name is Rosebud. You can also call her Rosie. She responds to both.”

Carrie nodded. She reached down and tentatively pet Rosebud. Rosebud responded by eagerly licking her hand. Carrie pulled away with a tiny noise, but it wasn’t one of shock or fear, rather awe. Had Carrie ever touched a dog before?

  “Come on. I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

Lynn gave Carrie a tour of the house while Rosebud trailed after them. Carrie nodded to everything she said, not voicing her opinions about anything. Not that Lynn was expecting her to. She wasn’t like that. Even if it weren’t for her traumatic injury, she wouldn’t say anything.

By the time Lynn was done showing Carrie around, she realized it was only now turning to 12:00. They still had the whole day stretched out before them, and Lynn had no idea what to do.

It was weird, she thought. She had imagined raising Carrie herself several times before this, but she always pictured them doing regular family things like watching TV together or baking or going jogging. Now that the opportunity was finally in front of her, she didn’t know what she was supposed to do. Though, in her defense, in all of her fantasized ideas, she hadn’t pictured Carrie with a slashed open throat and severe trauma.

  “Would you like to do anything?” Lynn asked. Might as well like Carrie choose.

But Carrie just shook her head, looking as clueless as she felt. 

  “Ah-- well…” Lynn was grasping at straws here. What did Carrie even like to do? “Here, I’ll turn the TV on for you. You can watch something.”

With a small bit of coaxing, she got Carrie to sit down on the couch. Rosebud jumped up next to her. Lynn turned on the TV and opened up the channel guide, then handed the remote to Carrie.

  “Turn on whatever you want.”

Carrie looked down at the remote, then up at her, blinking.

Oh, please don’t tell me she doesn’t know how to--

  “I-I, umm…”

Yep. That was enough of an answer. Carrie didn’t know how TVs worked.

  “Oh, let me--” Lynn took the remote back and began explaining how it worked. “See these two arrows? If you press on them, you can go up in the channels. That’s what all of those little boxes on the screen are. And you can select with this circle in the middle.” She demonstrated, selecting one of the channels and turning on one of those house hunting shows where the white couple (and they’re ALWAYS white) never seem satisfied with any of the options they’re given even though they’re all beautiful houses. “So, is there anything specific you want to watch? Sports? Cartoons? Movies?”

  “This is okay,” Carrie said softly.

  “Alright,” Lynn set the remote down next to her. “You can change it anytime you want.”

Carrie nodded, then looked up at the TV. Lynn lingered beside her for a moment before walking into the kitchen.

Wow, okay. She did not expect motherhood to be this awkward. This was definitely going to be an adventure for her and Carrie both.

--

Time passed. The hours went by. Carrie didn’t say very much. There were some instances where Lynn completely forgot that Carrie was even there and found herself rushing back into the living room to make sure she was as she had left her (which she always was). 

It was a very quiet day, indeed.

At around five o’clock in the evening, however, that quietness was broken.

There was a whimper.

It was so faint that Lynn thought she was just imagining things at first. She had looked up from the soup she was making (the doctor said that Carrie was going to have a liquid/soft food diet for awhile) and furrowed her eyebrows. She strained her ears, but the only sound she got in return was the voice of one of the Property Brothers (she couldn’t tell which was which) from the TV, so she turned her attention back to stirring the noodles in the pot in front of her, writing it off as nothing.

But then it sounded again, this time slightly louder.

Lynn’s spoon clattered against the countertop when she took it out of the pot. She looked out of the kitchen. Maybe it was just Rosebud? She whistled for her pet, then heard the scratching of claws beneath her. She looked down and saw that Rosebud was already there, begging for food in the way she always did when Lynn would cook. Lynn gave into her adorable puppy dog face and tossed her a piece of meat, which she scarfed down greedily.

Well, the whimper was probably just from Rosebud pleading for food in her usual doggy way. But then there was another whimper while she was looking down at the dog, and it had most certainly not come from Rosebud.

Lynn’s eyes widened.

Remember when it was said that Lynn sort of forgot that she had a child now living in her house? This was one of those times.

Lynn hurried out of the kitchen and into the living room, where she found Carrie curled up against one of the pillows, hand on her throat. Lynn was half-expecting there to be blood everywhere and was expecting Carrie to already be dead even more. If only she had been faster, paid more attention, actually known what the fuck she was doing and how to take care of a child--

Carrie whimpered again.

Lynn knelt down beside the couch and gently touched her arm. Carrie flinched away, eyes popping open wide. She looked at her as if she were expecting someone else, someone worse. There was terror written all over her face, and Lynn could tell she had an apology sitting on her tongue.

  “I-I’m sorry--”

And there it was.

  “Shh, it’s alright,” Lynn said to her, keeping her voice low and soft as to not freak the poor girl out even more. “You’re alright. You’re not in trouble. Are you okay?”

  “M-my neck--” Carrie’s voice was strangled, caught in her throat like it was snagged by a fish hook. “I-it hurts--”

Lynn cursed herself for not knowing that. Of course that would be the cause of Carrie’s pain- she got her damn throat slashed open! Was she expecting it to be her damn elbows or something?

  “The painkillers have probably worn off by now,” Lynn said, glancing at the time projected underneath the TV. “I’ll go get you some more.” She retrieved a tablet of Tramadol and a glass of water in record time, not wanting to leave Carrie alone for very long. She helped her sit up, then set the two items in her hands. Carrie went to take a sip from the cup, but flinched away at the last second.

  “N-no--”

Lynn frowned. “You have to drink, sweetheart.” She said. “You need to take that medicine.”

  “I-I can’t--” 

  “It’ll make the pain go away.”

Carrie shook her head, then cried out in pain when she did so, nearly spilling the water. When Lynn reached out to steady her, she jerked away as if her hands were made of fire.

  “Hey, hey,” Lynn spoke softly. “It’s okay, Carrie. You’re okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Carrie looked at her, and there were tears glistening in her big hazel eyes.

  “Why don’t you want to drink?” Lynn asked. Maybe if she knew the cause of the problem, she could solve it.

  “Hurts--to swallow.”

Once again, Lynn mentally punched herself for not knowing that. She couldn’t imagine what Carrie must have been feeling at that moment. Was she worried that the stitches would fly out if she simply took a drink of water?

  “Oh, honey,” Lynn said sadly. She reached out and gently rubbed Carrie’s shoulder, hoping to comfort her. “I know it hurts, but the medicine will help with that, I promise. You just need to take one sip, that’s all. Just one. Think you can do that for me?”

Carrie looked at her uneasily, then nodded. She drank from the cup and put the pill in her mouth while Lynn rubbed her back comfortingly. The poor thing got an expression of absolute agony on her face when she swallowed, but she managed to force it down.

  “It hurts!” Carrie cried.

  “You did it, baby,” Lynn said, smiling warmly. She thumbed away the tears that had sprung to Carrie’s eyes. “You did it. I’m so proud of you.”

  “Hurts,” Carrie uttered again. The hand that wasn’t holding the cup grasped at her neck, as if she thought the flesh was still splitting open and she could mend it back together if she held it for long enough. 

  “I know,” Lynn said. “The medicine is going to help with that, though. You’ll feel better soon.”

Carrie nodded weakly. Her eyes were so dull and lifeless. Lynn wished she would smile.

  “I’m going to go take the pot off the oven before I burn the whole house down,” Lynn said. “I assume that you aren’t up to eating right now?”

Carrie shook her head.

  “Okay. But when the medicine starts working, you’re going to have to eat something. Doctor’s orders.”

Lynn went back to the kitchen and took the pot of soup off of the burner. She got to it just in time; it was about to bubble over the edge.

When Lynn went back to the couch, two bowls of soup in hand, Carrie was leaning back against the cushions, a glazed look in her eyes. Her hand was still on her neck. Lynn nudged her gently to get her attention.

  “I’m back,” Lynn said, sitting down next to her. “I hope you like chicken noodle. Homemade.”

Carrie blinked at her slowly. “My Mama would make me boiled chicken.”

  “I--” 

That sounded absolutely disgusting.

  “Sounds delicious!”

Carrie shrugged. Pain flashed in her eyes, and Lynn knew it wasn’t because of her neck for once.

Everyone knew about Margaret White and her weird teachings, but nobody had ever thought to do something about it. Lynn was, shamefully, one of those people. Even after she grew attached to Carrie, she still held out hope that it wasn’t as bad as everyone was saying, that the bruises that constantly showed up on Carrie’s little body were just from clumsiness.

She should have known. She should have been smarter. Maybe if she stepped in sooner Carrie wouldn’t be the way she was now.

  “It was certainly boiled,” Carrie finally said, and Lynn couldn’t help but bark a laugh. Carrie blinked at her in delight.

  “I bet it was,” Lynn said back, patting her head.

She and Carrie ended up switching the channel to some animated movie while they ate. Or, while Lynn ate. Carrie didn’t touch her bowl from where it sat on the coffee table in front of the couch.

Some time passed. Lynn noticed that Carrie was starting to blink a lot more, as if she were fighting off tears, but when she looked directly at her, she realized it was from weariness. 

That was right. Tramadol’s main side effect was drowsiness. Lynn tried not to smirk.

  “Someone is sleepy,” Lynn said.

  “Mm-mmm,” Carrie shook her head stubbornly, then let out the most adorable yawn that Lynn had ever heard. 

  “You definitely are,” Lynn set her bowl down, then picked up Carrie’s. “Think you can take a few bites for me? Just a little.”

Carrie looked at her, then the bowl, then back to her, then nodded. She took the bowl from Lynn and began taking small bites.

  “Good girl,” Lynn smiled, rubbing Carrie’s back. Maybe taking Carrie wouldn’t be so hard after all!

  “Hey, Miss Gardener?”

  “Yes, sweet girl?”

  “You wanna know what it was like?”

  “What?”

Carrie looked up at her, eyes like hollow glass, a thin line of soup dripping down the corner of her mouth, and said, “Your hands felt like they had been hanging me.”

…Or not. 

[another-dr-another]

insert those coins babey! no point in holding onto them if they aren't used !

You Now Own:

001 - Mineral Water (x2)

Drawn from the ocean depths and rigorously purified. Ideal for a modern on-the-go public unsatisfied with tap water.

002 - Sea Salt

A basic seasoning produced from the evaporation of seawater. It also sees use as a preservative.

003 - Ration

A set of canned and vacuum-sealed foodstuffs. The taste isn't bad, and a certain snake that wants to play hide-and-go-seek is just crazy abou- wait, what?

005 - Ramune

A sweet, lemon-flavored carbonated drink. A marble plugs the opening of the uniquely designed bottle. The bottle can also be reused if you bring it to the ramune store.

010 - Ship In a Bottle

A intricate creation, a model ship within a bottle. Made with time, love and care.

012 - Envy-Enducing Envy CD

A CD of songs by Japanese band Envy. Full of unreleased tracks/first recordings.

014 - Children's Book

A children's book about family and forgiveness! The plot is about a sister who can't get along with her younger brother, but they find common ground and bond over causing trouble for their parents.

016 - Sour Soda (x2)

No flavor is listed on the bottle other than sour, which may just be a flavor in and of itself. It's a near black shade of blue... I think.

017 - Gentleman's Guide

A book that's meant to help shape you into the perfect gentleman. However, it's rather demeaning towards the reader, which doesn't feel very gentleman-ly.

018 - Masculine Cologne

Very masculine, can only be used by masculine people. No weaklings allowed, or people with the common sense to smell it before purchasing, and realize it smells really bad.

019 - Fancy Sword

True to it’s name, it looks very fancy, and very intimidating. However, it's only for show, and rather blunt- perhaps inexpensive?

022 - ??? Alcohol

It's something alcoholic. This is a school, it should be confiscated, and you won't be receiving any more information.

024 - Hair Cutting Scissors

Snip snip snip, meant for hair-cutting at home, as these aren’t professional grade. Still though, try and make it even, okay?

025 - Purple Hair Dye

Pretty purple hair dye guaranteed to not come out of hair for weeks! More of a pinkish-purple than the box advertised, but still pretty.

028 - Constellation Skirt

With patterns matching actual real constellations. Despite matching the night sky, it almost seems sun-rise themed, with its pink background and pale gold stars.

030 - Bottled Tea

When heated up, it's meant to help soothe upset stomachs, and muscle aches. Popular among student athletes.

031 - Alarm Clock

It's a digital alarm clock. One of the few normal and functional things here, and it's the thing that screams at you to wake up every morning.

032 - Broken Stopwatch (x2)

It won't stop running, no pausing or restarting. You can however make it record different laps.

034 - Baseball Cap

Perfect for keeping the sun out of your face! This one is all black though, so it'll retain a lot of heat.

038 - Card Game (x3)

One easy to play, and popular among kids. The front side of the package shows a family of four playing.

039 - Reminder Booklet

A small pamphlet that gives reminders for daily things, such as eating, drinking, taking meds, etc. Also has room for you to add in unique personalized reminders.

041 - Tiovita

A Japanese energy drink sold at most convenience stores. Pretty inexpensive, and with a nice fruity flavor- but hey, only one per day!

044 - Lie Detector (x2)

Fun for the whole family! Though not incredibly accurate... wait, how do you know that?

045 - Evidence Encylopedia

A book focusing on evidence found in crime scenes. From most overlooked to most common, this book talks about it all.

049 - Track Award

A award from a middle school track and field award. The recipient of the trophy seems to have come in second in two events, and first in one.

050 - Plane Tickets (x2)

Anywhere, anytime, round trip tickets. Probably given as some sort of thank you for volunteering to get off of a accidentally over-booked flight.

051 - Therapy Advertisement (x2)

Some therapist endorsing themselves. Upon looking at the services they offer, I don't feel very inspired to go there.

056 - Soulmate Sweatshirt

A sweatshirt that supposedly brings the most comfort not when you wear it, but when holding someone wearing it. Currently smells strongly of... lavender?

057 - Scrap Metal x3

Seems to be broken bits and pieces of some sort of engine. Could be repurposed, or simply a cool trinket.

059 - Old Journal

It seems to be from the late 80s, and kept being written in up to the early 90s. There's a entry on the last page, synopsizing the birth of the owners son, and how proud the owner is of his now five year old.

060 - Paper Boat

A piece of paper that's been folded into a boat. Apparently you can fold and tear it as you tell a story to provide a visual aid for the story, but no one here knows how.

061 - Calendar

It's got pictures of internationally famous towns on it! This particular one has been written on with a note on almost every day.

064 - Face-paint Kit.

A professional face-painting kit. However, it’s missing it’s red, yellow, blue and white paint- those colors have been all used up.

065 - Life Quote Sign (x3)

A sign with some stereotypical life quote written on it in flowery lettering. Most likely to be seen hanging in a kitchen.

066 - Throwing Rings (x2)

Meant for fair games. If you have good enough aim, maybe you'll win a prize!

067 - Pleasant Savior

Seemingly a CD filled with various performances by the same person. I haven't played the CD, so I don't know what kind of performances he does though, and the name is off-putting.

069 - “Fresh” Bouquet (x3)

Somehow still smells sweet with flowers that look flawless. It's comprised of roses that have been dyed rainbow, all of them.

070 - Hair Ribbons (x3)

They come in a variety of colors, but the Monomono Machine only dispenses yellow. Guaranteed to make the wearer feel a certain sense of self-satisfaction.

071 - Girls Profile

A student profile from a all-girls academy. The paper is water-stained and some of the ink has run, so it's hard to make out what's on the paper.

073 - Baby Doll

It seems to be from around the 90s and... not quite well-loved, but well-played-with. Doesn't come with the original clothes... or hair.

075 - Dream Catcher

Made by a past SHSL. It's actually been pretty effective, and is part of the reason they got scouted.

080 - Retro Game

It's handheld, old, and extremely broken. The screen has been shattered so it displays wrong, all cracked and distorted.

081 - Blackout Curtains (x2)

Completely block out any and all light. Strong enough to plunge a room into darkness.

084 - Noise-cancelling Headphones

They completely block out all sound! Also come with the ability to adjust the size of the band, and will stay on your ears even if you pull the band down to your neck.

086 - Wall Decals

Stickers you can put on your wall. They do a decent job of covering up holes in said walls.

087 - Antique Stuffed Animal (x2)

It seems to be bunny themed, and dressed in clothes you'd see on babies in the 1930s. It's in pretty good shape, other than a few tears where the lace trim at the end has had it’s stitches removed.

088 - Embroidery Kit

Or rather, a needle and thread to be used for embroidery. There's only one needle, and one spool of thread, but hey, it’s something.

090 - Scented Markers (x2)

A full rainbow set, all with their own unique smell! Be careful though - it's hard to get these out of clothes.

092 - Fake Christmas Tree (x2)

Too plastic to be a real tree. It's also incredibly small, but real trees can be small too, so that doesn’t really mess with the realism.

093 - Hair Gel

Top of the line hair gel, and completely unopened! Helps you style your hair and keep it in place, but doesn’t give it the nicest texture.

095 - Instant Noodles

Just add water to get something hot, salty, and/or spicy! A nice meal if you're looking for something that's quick and easy, you can dress it up some too.

097 - Drink Mix

A powder used for ??? warm drink, made with milk, tastes like... something? You try it and tell me, but it smells good at the least.

099 - The DSM-I

Self-explanatory, it's the original version of the DSM, from 1952. Index cards have been slipped in-between most of the pages, talking about what happened with the information listed there.

100 - Collection Of Old Ads

Dating back to the 1920s. A magazine full of ads from a different time, it’s somewhat of a miracle the paper held up while the ideas in it didn’t.

101 - Wooden Ruler

It's a wooden ruler. Used for measuring things, nothing else- why do you ask?

102 - Building Blocks (x3)

Stacking and stacking, and sending it all crumbling down. And then you rinse and repeat.

104 - Cutesy Hair Clips

Snap clips in pastel colors and covered in designs. Oddly enough, there isn't any non-pastels, unless you count the few white clips.

106 - Newspaper Collage

Seems to be a collection of snippets from newspaper articles. There must be hundreds in here... it's a big collage.

107 - Cropped Sweatshirt

Cropped specifically due to a parent saying not to. The sweatshirt seems to be related to some organization, with the big fancy emblem on it.

109 - Pins And Patches

A mix-and-match bag full of enamel pins, buttons, and iron-on patches. Good luck finding something to do with them all.

110 - Origami Paper (x2)

Simple origami paper, in a variety of colors and patterns! Comes easy to tear out of a book, which includes instructions on basic origami types.

112 - Colorful Band-Aids.

They come in many colors, designs, even different sizes. Some seem to be made to cover up paper cuts, others meant to help skinned knees and scraped elbows.

Thank you for visiting the Monomono Machine!

~*~

Maeda, narrating - And I thought the coins were kinda heavy...

Maeda - What now?

[Free Time Event - Uehara]

{Head to Your Room}

[flutteringphalanges]

Summary:  “Am I in Hell?” Agatha’s voice was hoarse, a hint of fear in her tone. “That depends on your definition,” Dracula answered. “Perhaps.” His fingers felt cool against her burning skin, the fever raging through her body. “If you’re going to kill me, then do it,” she mumbled. The count chuckled, gazing into her eyes. “On the contrary,” he smirked. “I’m going to save you.”

((In which Dracula cares for a gravely ill Agatha))

Characters: Agatha Van Helsing/Dracula

Rating: M

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N:  Happy New Year's Eve AND happy Dracula 2020's First Year Anniversary Eve! I thought about posting this tomorrow, but I thought I made you guys wait long enough. Plus wanted to end 2020 on a good note since, well, this year has been...yeah...ANYWAY, hope you enjoy it! Feedback/likes/reblogs are greatly loved and appreciated! -Jen

                                              Chapter Twelve

Agatha leaned over the bucket again and retched the contents of her stomach out for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day. The thick, tar like liquid had already begun to congeal as most old blood does. This time around it belong to a brown bear the Count had swiftly taken out in the mountains. The third animal the couple had tried to test Agatha's theory that she didn't need to survive off of humans. So far every attempt had ended in failure.

"You're growing weaker." Dracula commented, his voice impatient and edged with worry. "And if you keep up at this rate, you risk going feral." He wasn't sure how true his implications were, but at this rate, the former nun was endangering her well being. "Please, Agatha, be reasonable. It isn't a kill if I do it for you."

"And yet it would still be on my conscience." His lover sighed, wiping the side of her mouth with her sleeve. "If I am to live forever, I simply cannot have that." She swallowed, tasting the bitter bile on her tongue. "We'll keep trying. Surely there is something out there. No creature is designed to survive on one given source from a singular thing. Humans in our case."

The elder vampire groaned in response, clearly tired by his beloved's humanity that had managed to survive during her transformation. Agatha gently rested a hand on his arm, her eyes glancing up to meet his.

"Please." She said in a soft, yet adamant voice. "I want to keep going."

"If something begins to happen. If you start to change or..." His words seemed to fade off. "If it comes down to it, I will do what's in your best interest, Agatha. Even if you hate me for a millennium for doing it." Once more he paused. "I love you."

"I know." She smiled. "Which is why we will find a solution. Together." The corners of her lips twitched into a faint smirk. "And who knows, when we do, perhaps even you will convert."

Dracula snorted and rolled his eyes. "I hate to dash your hopes, but I can almost guarantee that will not be happening. I have an acquired taste and standards to boot. If we are successful at finding an alternative, I'll leave the riches to you." He leaned in close to her ear, his breath tickling and sending a shiver up Agatha's spine. "You truly have no idea what you are missing out on. The knowledge. The stories. Everything a filthy animal's blood lacks. Deep down, I know there is an inkling of curiosity within you."

The former nun took a step back, locking eyes with him. "That's what books are for. Reliable and only harmful from their papercuts. I will not be swayed from my decision, Count Dracula." Exhaling, she glanced around the room. "So we've tried deer, bear, rabbit...perhaps livestock is our next bet. Though, I do dislike the idea of stealing someone's property."

"You can't have it both ways, Agatha." Dracula frowned, clearly irritated by her stubborn, selfless nature. "Ultimately, the end result won't leave you with the happiest outcome, but stealing as you so referred to it is less sinful than murder." He scoffed at his words. "Then again, we both know our opinions on religion. Or lack thereof."

"...We could always start a farm?" Agatha spoke after a moment's pause. "After centuries, it wouldn't hurt for you to gain a hobby. One that would benefit me and keep you out of trouble." She chuckled, the laugh laced with exhaustion. "Imagine a flock of chickens. You could sell their eggs at the village market...if one was held at night, of course."

"And I think all of this animal blood has gotten to that pretty little mind of yours." Dracula said, cupping her face between his large hands. "Come, you need your rest. We can at least agree on that."

He was right on that account. She was feeling rather drained. Not to mention nauseated from the bear. The taste still lingered on the back of her tongue. Nodding her head, she took the vampire's hand and followed him down the long stretch of hallway to where their coffin was located. It wasn't the nicest looking thing, more so an oversized box filled with dirt. But Dracula was insistent on sleeping together and promised soon he'd have something specially made. Agatha couldn't help but wonder how someone would go about commissioning a luxury couple's casket. An interesting conversation indeed.

"I really hate that we have to sleep in dirt." Agatha grimaced as Dracula lifted the lid. "I don't care how restful it may be, waking up covered in grime isn't at all pleasant."

"You are by far the fussiest vampire I've ever created." Her lover laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "No one has ever voiced as many opinions as you. Or demands for that matter."

"Like you, I have standards...they just are different than yours." The former nun replied, eyeing the large box incredulously. "One day, when I have enough strength to do so, I'm going to look into these vampiric rites of yours." She could tell by the look on his face the idea didn't excite him. "Oh please, it isn't like I plan to shove a stake through my heart. Though, I am well aware that was a failed attempt on Jonathan Harker's part."

"To bed with you." The Count ushered, helping her into their place of rest. "Enough of this nonsense. It's time to take a nap while I go out and...borrow some farm animals. I hope you realize how much I care for you, I don't haul a full grown cow back to the castle for just anyone."

"Oh so heroic." Agatha snorted, pursing her lips as Dracula leaned in to kiss her. "Blatantly asking for praise rather than quietly accepting the fact that I truly appreciate all you do. If I am fussy, you are needy."

A pleasant form of bickering. Usually they had heated discussions-often of which ended in a passionate session of fucking. But tonight was different. Perhaps his worry for Agatha caused the flame to momentarily simmer down. Messed with his ability to be both suave and an ass. She looked beautiful lying there in the coffin she clearly despised, and though part of him wanted nothing more than to take her now, he knew it needed to wait. She was hungry. Needed to feed. And the consequences of not doing that were far from good.

"Name calling is childish, my dear nun." Dracula smirked knowing the irony behind it. "Now, please have enough sense to sleep. I'm losing moonlight by the hour and if I'm to get back here before dawn, I must leave now." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Stay."

"I'm not some hound." She called after him from the confines of the casket. "I can come and go as I please…" Agatha gazed up at the coffin lid that now blocked her view of the room. "For now, I just choose to accept that perhaps you are right about resting. Sleep does sound agreeable."

The former nun could've sworn she heard Dracula answer, but her mind had already started to grow foggy. Taking in an unnecessary breath, she closed her eyes and tried not to focus on the strange feeling in her stomach. She was so tired. So worn out. So weary that it didn't take long for her to slip away from reality and into her dreams.

Even in the darkness, Agatha recognized the place from where she stood. Though far emptier and dusty, it was an unmistakable memory implanted in her mind. The old inn that she had taken refuge in soon after her escape from the ruins of what had been St. Mary's convent and her lost sisters.

Taking a step forward, the former nun felt loose stone crumble underneath her feet. Glancing down, she lightly kicked a rock on the ground and watched as it bounced across the room, hitting the wall opposite her. She wasn't exactly sure why she was here. It was a dream, for sure, but it oddly felt real at the same time.

"Agatha?"

The voice was soft, meek, and the woman knew instantly who the speaker was. From the shadows, as timid as they day they met, Mina stepped out. She wore the same, blue habit as the day they had departed, blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. A cold draft came in from a neglected open window, blowing her locks gently. The smell was intoxicating.

"Mina?" Agatha whispered, her voice hoarse. "Why are you...you need to go! Go now!" She covered her nose, throat burning. It was only a dream. Only a dream. And yet, it felt so horribly real. "Go now!"

But the other woman, oblivious to the fact her friend was now a vampire, had a look of relief plastered across her features. "You disappeared." She said, stepping closer Agatha who, in turn, backed up against the wall. "I thought I'd never see you again. Where did you go?!"

"Mina, please!" Agatha pleaded, biting down so hard on her bottom lip she could taste her own blood. "You must go now. You're in danger!"

"It's alright now." The young woman insisted, closing the distance between her and the vampire. "Now that we are together again, we can...Good God, Agatha, what's happened to your eyes?!"

The once flat edges of her teeth had begun to grow pointed and a low guttural sound rumbled deep from the bottom of Agatha's throat. She stared back hungrily at Mina, the last reminisce of control she fought to hold disappearing. The vampire stepped forward, a prisoner to her own thirsty as her victim stared back in horror. She was so thirsty. So very, very thirsty…

"Agatha?" Mina whispered weakly. "Agatha, please!"

But the rational, humane side of the former nun was gone. Mina's pleas of mercy falling on deaf ears. Without so much as a second thought. A second consideration. She lunged towards the woman, knocking her onto the ground. As her sharp nails dug into the woman's flesh, she gazed down and readied to bury her fangs into…

"AGATHA!"

Agatha's eyes shot wide open, startled awake by the sound of Dracula's voice. She looked up and saw the other vampire staring down at her in utter astonishment, his hands gripping either of her shoulders as if he'd been trying to hold her down.

"It's alright. It's alright. You were having a nightmare." He attempted to assure her as her head whipped around wildly. "I've been trying to wake you up."

"Mina…" Agatha panted, as if needing to breathe. "Mina...I tried to warn her...tried to stop myself…" She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "I couldn't control it." When she opened them again, the former nun looked deeply into her lover's eyes. "I was so thirsty…"

Dracula's lips pressed into a thin line as if he was trying to hold back on saying something. It wasn't until Agatha gathered herself enough that she really took in what the other vampire had yet to admit. Deep, long claw marks scraped the inside of their coffin resembling those of an animal trying to get out. Agatha looked down and noticed chips of wood sprinkled across her.

"Did I…" She swallowed, her stomach twisting. "Was that...me?"

"We're running out of time, Agatha." The other vampire said quietly. "If we don't figure things soon enough, it's only going to get worse. I'm not willing to let that happen." He paused, considering his next words carefully. "That means, I'll have no choice but to teach you how to hunt."

Agatha said nothing, but stared at the deep marks on the coffin. She thought of her dream. Of Mina. Of all of this. Swallowing, she ran a hand through her messy hair and sighed.

"Fine." She relented. "Teach me."

[thronesofshadows]

Salt Bridges (pt. 1) || Nicole & Evelyn

TIMING: A couple weeks before Christmas LOCATION: Al’s Diner PARTIES: @nicsalazar​ and @thronesofshadows SUMMARY: Nicole and Evelyn go out for dinner and find out they might have a little more in common than they previously realized.

Seated in the most secluded spot she could find, Nicole’s fingers picked at the extra hair tie on her wrist, looking up every time the door opened and the wrong person walked inside the diner. She was never early to any kind of appointments. Being early meant second guessing everything she thought she  knew. Questioning whether she had made it to the right place, on the right day or at the right time. Worrying about plans getting cancelled and not getting the corresponding text. Going back to recheck the information multiple times, though she had done it a hundred times before. She was always five minutes late to everything, perfectly calculated, to avoid that. She had to be early for this one, however. Against her better judgement she had invited Evelyn to a diner. A very loud one, it seemed. She couldn’t shake the feeling that food had been a bad idea. The worst kind of activity to do with someone she had only met once. The pauses, awkward silences, the sounds, the mess. Terrible, just terrible. She breathed out, forcing herself to not go there. Pointless to dwell on it when she was already sitting there, fifteen minutes earlier than they had agreed on, going over the menu for the tenth time. Besides, Evelyn had to be the nicest person she had met so far, she probably wouldn’t care. She wanted to spend time with her, right? No? She had never been to Al’s diner before, but she quickly understood the popularity. The smell was driving her insane. When Evelyn walked through the door, her frown finally relaxed. She sighed and offered a shy smile, keeping her gaze on the woman until she spotted her. She averted her eyes down to the menu as she approached.  

Nicole was unlike anyone Evelyn had ever met. She didn’t usually eat, and Al’s was certainly not her usual sort of place, but if that was where Nicole felt most at home, she would agree. Though it seemed a bit contrary to what she knew about Nicole. She hardly minded. She could easily get a salad here and pick at it, let Nicole talk about whatever she needed to - or wanted to. She’d arrived a couple minutes early. The buzzing of the diner would have been overwhelming if she concentrated too much on it, and she was more than a bit puzzled about why Nicole had chosen such a place. Perhaps she had a certain craving for a burger. Regardless, Evelyn adjusted the skirt of her dress and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her head before she pushed the door open. Nicole was already there, she realized, gaze focusing in on the other woman. She made her way over to the booth, one in a far back corner that wasn’t right in the middle of everything. Okay, that made more sense given what she knew about Nicole. “Apologies for keeping you waiting.” Evelyn raised an eyebrow, nodding at the menu. “What looks good?”

She shook her head dismissively, eyes darting to the clock behind the register when Evelyn apologized. “Hey...uh, think you’re right on time, I just— ” she trailed off, unsure where she was going with that sentence. She just needed some extra preparation. Her fingers drummed on the menu, waiting for Evelyn to get comfortable in her seat. Fortunately for Nicole, the table provided enough space between them. She would’ve hated having to worry over the woman stepping into her personal space for the entire evening. Her biggest concern was the eye contact, almost impossible to avoid when Evelyn was sitting in front of her. Out in a diner, really? Bad idea. Terrible idea. Should’ve asked her for a walk instead. She cleared her throat to keep those thoughts at bay, giving the other woman a strained smile. “What looks...good?”, the repetition only served to buy herself more time to think. She lifted her eyebrows, seemingly forgetting everything she had read a minute ago. “I’ve...never been here before—first time” she couldn't recall who had recommended the diner to her, but they had clearly made a lasting impression for her to come up with it on the spot. By the smell of it, the burgers definitely won. And the fries. The chicken too. She couldn’t hate the waffles either, despite the milk. “Gonna take a wild guess here...but I think the burgers are kinda their thing” she let out a chuckle and pointed at a particular picture hanging on the wall, displaying a monstrous looking burger. “Would you eat that one?”

“I am often early, but it pleases me to see that you are, too.” Evelyn couldn’t help but smile again. There was something about being around Nicole that made her feel calm and at peace with herself. Evelyn often considered herself a fairly calm person, but there were people, whether she wished to admit it or not, who brought about a feeling of even greater calm, and Nicole already seemed to be one of those people. Even if she was human, she was a delightful partner in conversation, even if Evelyn could tell that this didn’t always come so easily for her. Furthermore, despite the fact that it had taken a good amount of persuasion, she was willing to let Evelyn dote on her and purchase things for her, which was always a plus in Evelyn’s book. “I cannot say that I am an expert on any of this,” she flipped through the menu, glossy painted nails tapping against the plastic. “Well, it is a popular place in town, or so the rumors say - it is often filled up from what I can tell.” She crossed her legs. “Well, I do think that is how diners go. I - well, no, not unless it is vegetarian, but I fully endorse you trying it. After all, is there not the cliché of when in Rome - and I am well-aware that we are not in Rome, and that I explain my jokes too much but I say go for it. I think I may get a salad.”

“About that…” her laugh was strained and nervous, but felt the need to explain. “I just— had to make sure I got a booth I wouldn’t...” pick up too many things. “Get overwhelmed by—  Sorry to disappoint but, I’m not— I’m not usually...this punctual” it felt strange being honest about it, and though her eyes darted everywhere in the room to avoid looking at Evelyn, she preferred it. Nicole was sure the other woman didn’t need the explanation, but seemed to be the way things were meant to flow between them. She glanced down at the menu again, but her brain was fixed on Evelyn’s tapping, distracting her. Most of the time she was capable of tuning out things like that, anxious thoughts occupying her brain enough to ignore sensory stimuli. Being so out of her comfort zone appeared to be affecting her in different ways. She tried her best not to pay close attention to Evelyn. Felt like intruding. The words pulled her back to focus. She assumed vegetarian options existed, but Al’s wouldn’t be the place to get them. “No, it’s...salad might be the better option”. Could she eat that burger? Yes, she was certainly capable of finishing that. Wouldn’t be pretty at all, however. She had a healthy appetite, and blamed it on being part-animal. “The…” she glanced at her with narrowed eyes, repeating some words under her breath. Cliché of Rome? What was she talking about? Sounded familiar, but she couldn’t recall what the saying meant. “I— I don’t…” Her smile was sheepish, but she was saved by the waiter approaching to take their order. She nodded to Evelyn. “I think she’s...her mind’s made up.”

“Of course. Do not worry, even if you are only punctual this time, that is still more than enough.” Evelyn grinned. “Remember, this is all about whatever works best as a distraction for you, and if this is working, then I shall certainly not fault you for that.” Had she been a more tactile person, and had she assumed Nicole was, too, Evelyn might have reached out to offer a hand to the other woman, but things being what they were, she instead held back. Not yet, and maybe not ever, but she enjoyed Nicole’s company regardless of anything else, and for now, that was what mattered most of all. “Salads are usually nice, and even if it is not of the highest quality, I did not come here for the food, solely.” Especially because I do not actually need human food in order to survive, though it was not as though she could tell that to Nicole. Not now, at least - perhaps, if they continued to get along as well as they had thus far, she would be able to be more open, but not yet. “Sorry, it is a cliché. When you are somewhere, you might as well do what is customary. Or something to that degree.” She shrugged, glancing up at the waiter. “I have. I would love a Greek salad and just water to drink.” She flipped her menu shut and let Nicole order, watching as the waiter walked away before focusing back on the other woman. “So, how is this for a distraction so far?”

“Right, yeah—“ Nicole let out a nervous breath, a thankful half-smile reached her lips. It was slightly overwhelming that Evelyn always knew the right thing to say. Almost too understanding. She wondered if that had come with all the training she experienced as a kid. A fleeting, less logical thought followed. Could she—? Maybe she was capable of reading minds. Crazy, sure. She had seen weirder things in her life, though. Shaking her head, she frowned at the absurdity. People just happened to be good sometimes, she reminded herself. “Yeah—- wouldn’t pay for a restaurant salad, really…” Maybe being an ex model had something to do with her concern for healthy eating, but if Evelyn wanted salad, then she’d pay for it. “Good thing you aren’t though… cause this one’s on me, okay?” quirking an eyebrow, she raised a finger at her. She had to remind her, just in case. Yes, she had invited Evelyn for more than food. It was strange. When they talked online, she knew exactly why she had needed her company. But now, everything seemed incredibly hazy. Something about...bones and pens? Why would she need to talk to Evelyn about that? She watched in silence as the woman placed her order, her pulse racing at the thought of going next. She asked for a beer first. That would put her into a chattier mood. Then she tripped over her words to order a chicken sandwich, after she was assured it came with a portion of fries. Would she eat that? She wasn’t sure, but at least the hard part was done. “I— uh...never been more distracted in my life” it was the truth, at least. Whether it was a good thing or not it remained to be seen. How long could the food take to be ready, 15-20 minutes? That was a lot of time to fill with conversation. She could get through it. “Thank you, by the way—for coming,” she lifted her eyebrows as she met the other woman’s gaze, surprised by her own voice. “Gonna owe you...a couple guitar shows.”    

Everything with Nicole felt strange and new, even if the overall pattern of their conversation was hardly anything abnormal. Evelyn shrugged. “Some are good, maybe this will be one of those cases.” Not that she entirely minded either way. Human food was human food in the end, and though she certainly preferred that which tasted better, it never served to nourish her in the way that nightmares did. “Okay. Only because you did permit me to purchase that guitar for you and because I find myself rather fond of your company.” Evelyn raised an eyebrow. She enjoyed the time she had spent with Nicole so far as well as the conversations that they had, and so she saw no reason to do anything other than agree to spend more time with the other woman. “It is okay. Sometimes we find ourselves more keen to be distracted than others, and this is no fault of yours. There was a time a bit ago when I found myself unable to sleep for a long while and I know my focus was less than ideal.” She offered a shrug at the other woman’s remark. “Of course. I find your company enjoyable, and I have been looking forward to spending more time with you ever since we have met.”

Nicole nodded, despite being suspicious of the diner’s ability to deliver a decent salad. Though if Evelyn wanted to order something else after, she wouldn’t have a problem with that. “Good” her hand tapped the table with finality, as if her words settled their agreement. Her eyes stayed fixed on the table, struggling to shake the awkwardness off. She didn’t understand why Evelyn liked her company. A woman like her was likely to know people far more interesting than her. Better conversationalists too. But she was trying not to second guess herself too much. Unable to find the right words, she moved onto the next topic. “Was that— were you under stress or…?” She understood the connection between lack of sleep and lack of focus, but it was often triggered by something. “Never been too good at sleeping” her gaze lifted slightly at the admission, focusing on Evelyn’s shoulder. Her leg bounced under the table. For the longest time, she was haunted by the thought of going to bed and not waking up again, her body transforming in her sleep. “Guess... I was bound to end up with issues” it would’ve been easier to see a specialist, she reminded herself, though that would imply she was willing to get better. Her nerves caused her to laugh again, as Evelyn repeated she was good company. She was genuinely puzzled as to why. What had she offered that one time that seemed to go over well with Evelyn? Maybe she could keep doing that, with other people. Did people give each other feedback like that? Deep down she knew there was no magic formula. Maybe Evelyn was just trying to be nice. Embarrassed, heat rose to her cheek. “That’s...yeah— I think I...I do good with...bossy people. Not that— you’re...” she noticed the waiter approach, and she breathed out in relief “it’s not...not a bad thing”.

Evelyn sighed for a small moment, though it was evident that it was not out of frustration but merely out of relief in the comfort and ease that Nicole’s company provided. “Of course.” She watched Nicole’s fingers drumming against the table. “In a manner of speaking.” She didn’t wish to go into it with too much detail; didn’t want to risk explaining seeing giant eyes - Nicole didn’t deserve having to deal with that. “Luckily I was able to work through it, and that is all behind me.” Other things weren’t, other odd sleep behaviors weighed heavily on her mind - because she wasn’t supposed to have faults with her sleep, if anything she was supposed to be the one in control, particularly the negative ones that had seemingly overrun the town. “Oh? That is the case with a number of people. Even when you were a child?” She looked over to Nicole, though there was not a speck of judgement present on her face.  “Well, I do not think this guarantees issues. Sleep is incredibly complex, you should not fault yourself for anything.” She bit her lip to hold back a laugh at Nicole’s next comment. “You can call my bossy. I am well-aware I can be, though I think that the tutors I had as a child preferred strong-willed.” She fought away the urge to roll her eyes. Evelyn watched the waiter come back over, dropping off their drinks and a few tabletop condiments - including salt. Evelyn grabbed her drink quickly. Salt wasn’t even a proper condiment, though she supposed many people liked to have it on top of their dishes. “Well, so far so good, I think.” She nodded. “How are you finding it?”

“I’m glad it’s in the past,” she nodded. The fact that Evelyn had managed to work through her sleeping issues gave Nicole some sort of comfort. Maybe it would pass, maybe she just had to be patient. “Light sleeper” she raised her hand, as if she was taking the blame on something. “Noises and...I’m—sensitive to it,” she shrugged, debating whether to continue or not. “It got worse after…” no, she should’ve stopped. Being a light sleeper was one thing, nightmares were something entirely different. “Bad stuff happened” the tight smile she gave after her words felt odd, but she didn’t Evelyn to feel uncomfortable. She was used to bad sleep anyway. Wasn’t so bad. “Strong-willed, huh?” she repeated, her eyebrows rising as she broke into a smile. “Yeah, you terrorized those tutors, I bet” she pressed her lips together, trying to suppress her grin. Although she felt for the adults in charge, she found the thought of a spoiled little girl bossing tutors around very entertaining. Why did a kid need so much tutoring anyway? She should’ve been playing free outside. Regardless, bossy was good in her mind. She needed bossy in her life. She was never inclined to take the lead on anything.  Someone willing to push a little was a change she welcomed. She leaned back in her seat, letting the waiter place the condiments and the drinks. She shook her head when he offered to pour it in a glass. The bottle was fine. Without even realizing, her hand ghosted over the table before reaching for the salt shaker. Instinctively, she slid it to the end of the table, towards Evelyn. Then she rearranged the rest of the containers. She often had salt in her meals, she even favored that type of food, but she didn’t want to risk the chance of an accident in public. Her distraction meant she had lost track of their conversation. She looked up at the question, eyes widening. “How am I— finding what? oh...” she glanced down at the beer in her hand. She lifted it, sending Evelyn a questioning look.

“I am as well, as the case may be.” Evelyn looked over at Nicole with a kind expression. She didn’t wish to lie to someone who may well have been human, but explaining that her sleep expertise went beyond just being a childhood (and still) bookworm with too much time on her hands. Anything beyond that was too much, she knew that - even though she also knew that keeping the truth of what she was hidden away could only serve to cause trouble. She chose not to focus on that right now, and instead focused onto the woman across from her. She found that Nicole was someone incredibly grounding to be around, and she didn’t know why. Instead of getting all done up about it, she’d decided to ignore that and focus on how pleasant it felt. Even though the idea of having friends was still a relatively foreign and odd concept to Evelyn, she didn’t think to question it with a select few people - not Nicole, and certainly not Miriam - to a degree. Others too - Deirdre for one, even Lydia, before everything (and she chose to not think about all the what ifs) - things she never would have expected years ago when she’d been shut into her home, accompanied only by her nannies, tutors, and housekeepers. “You are permitted to be sensitive to noises - not that, well, obviously I am unable to control that - not that I would, if I could, I think people controlling whatever it is someone is dealing with is unjust, but I am sorry that you have that. It is no bad thing, we are all different.” Her gaze softened again. “Bad things? You do not have to expand, but should you wish to, I am able to listen. I am even quite alright at it, most times.” She sucked on her lip for a moment. “I think they used that in lieu of any number of other words they might have preferred to use were my father not their main source of income.” She scrunched up her face. She watched Nicole play with - rearrange - the salt and felt her shoulders tense up just slightly as she pushed it over towards her. Evelyn took it, careful not to touch any of it too much, and pushed it with the tip of one nail away from them, back to where the waiter had first placed it down. “Yes, that.” She nodded. “Though it may not be the quality that you could have if you came to my bar, I hope it suffices.”

Nicole’s eyebrows rose again, surprised to see the woman string a sentence with less eloquence than usual. Rambling didn’t seem to be her thing, but she had definitely over explained something that seemed obvious. Her eyes narrowed, finally looking at her face. “I know,” she said simply with a subtle smile, her voice small but calm. Had she been braver, she would’ve asked if she had issues with control. But she didn’t want to risk upsetting her if that was the case. Her eyes darted outside, a break she needed from the current conversation. When Evelyn offered an ear, she almost smiled. Her kindness wasn’t surprising. Or the way Nicole’s eyes began to tear up. She got rid of them, blinking quickly. God that was embarrassing. For once, the idea of sharing part of her story wasn’t terrifying. Time. It was the one thing she needed. The one thing stopping her from speaking to her. It seemed unquestionable that with time, Evelyn would be able to coax the truth out of her.

“I know” even smaller the second time. Nicole shook her head. “We all got baggage, no?” she said instead. She doubted anyone living in a town like White Crest was completely normal. The way she spoke about her tutoring sounded a lot less amusing than what she had pictured first. She frowned. “Was that… did you rebel against them? Or just— you being a kid”. With an apprehensive look, she noticed the way Evelyn moved the salt again. Maybe she was very particular about condiment placement? It was a little too close to the edge for her liking, though. If anyone were to run and— No. She was too paranoid, what were the chances of that even happening? She let the saltshaker where it was. They would be fine. Moving it again would look odd. “I’ve had a lot worse, trust me” the taste had never mattered much to her. Not when it used to be about getting drunk above everything. Tilting the bottle, she took a gulp. Yes, not great, she confirmed with a grimace. “I think I’d like some of that quality alcohol, though” She’d have to save for that. “How’s your...water? Sure it’s fancier at your place too”.

Nicole’s response remained simple - which was to be expected, it was how she was, Evelyn had learned. Though not for any sort of negative reason, nor any lessening respect. She did respect and care for Nicole a great deal, regardless of whether or not that was something typical of her. “I know - and yes, I suppose that we do. Though it is all different, and I sometimes do not see any point in focusing on such things.” She figured that she could leave things be for now, but if they talked again, she might poke a bit more - as she was rather curious but she knew that Nicole was someone who seemed to be a bit shy, at least when compared to Evelyn. She liked her too, and so she didn’t want to stress her out, at least not more than she already did. It was one thing to persuade Nicole to permit her to purchase a guitar, but this was something else entirely. “No, not especially, I simply did my own thing sometimes and so I think mostly being a child, but I also do not know quite what is typical for children, given that I grew up mostly on my own.” She took another sip of her water. She watched Nicole eye the salt and for a moment she wanted to ask her if she, too, was a mara. She didn’t, because maybe she wasn’t and was just curious about Evelyn’s constant movements. “Well that is good. You should come by sometime, and perhaps I will find nice beer and we can enjoy that.” She grinned. “I can make exceptions for those whose company I enjoy. Especially if it is at my place and not my bar, though I do not feel bad about giving you a more reasonable price than I do for most of my clients.” She grinned. “It is fancier, but I have always loved the fancier things in life.”

A half grin reached Nicole’s lips. She had to admire Evelyn’s uncomplicated mindset. She would’ve achieved a lot more had she moved on from all her traumas, she mused. “Not much of a dweller?” She wanted to make sure she was understanding her words right. She took another swig of her beer. “What’s your secret? Cause I’ve...I’ve tried telling myself— shit’s in the past and all that...” she frowned, unsure whether she wanted to go down that road or not. “Can’t get it through my skull, though” she shook her head, her fingers tracing the bottle before drinking again. She probably should’ve waited until the food had arrived, but the anxiety wanted her to keep her hands busy. Her expression turned serious as Evelyn expanded more on her childhood. “Typical children stuff, like...just— not behaving the way adults want cause...cause— they’re not wired that way yet. That’s pretty typical, I think” there was a lot of wrong in the way kids were treated, but she wasn’t sure how to put her thought into words. “As an older sister— I’m allowed to say, kids are really annoying, though” she quipped to lighten the mood, but didn’t feel right. Joking rarely did. “Don’t think there was anything wrong with you, trust me” she added calmly, offering a sympathetic smile. She entertained herself holding the beer by its neck and swinging it idly, an inch over the table. “Now that I’m...officially invited, yes. Booze is one way to lure me in” tasting actual decent alcohol did sound like something she’d enjoy. “Uh, isn’t— the bar your place?” She let out a chuckle, eyebrows furrowed. “C’mon, all water’s the same!” she knew it wasn’t true, but she was curious about what counted as fancy water. Looking past Evelyn’s shoulder, the waiter came into view. She wondered if the plates he was carrying belonged to them.  

“Not if it is something I wish to not dwell upon, yes.” Evelyn paused for a moment. “I mean - yes, you are correct. If something is unsavory, I do not wish to put my focus into it. I see little reason to.” Which she knew made her seem overly detached sometimes, but that was better than letting emotions overwhelm her completely. “Years of practice?” She shrugged. “I do not know, I think being alone much of my childhood allowed me to be alone with my thoughts, and I have never thought that getting too done up does anyone any good.” She took another sip of her water - she didn’t know why she kept telling Nicole so many things, but she also found that she didn’t always mind. “I guess so. It may be typical, but I have no proper experience with children outside of reading about them - I can imagine you might find them annoying.” She pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “I do trust you, though I do not know. That remains to be seen, for some.” She gave an off-handed shrug. “Yes, please come, and I have found that alcohol is the way to get many people interested. I can promise my selection is some of the best you’ll find here.” She giggled, the sound causing her to blink a few times extra. Perhaps there was something particularly special about Nicole. “You may say that, but there is a difference, sometimes.” She turned to see what Nicole was looking at, the waiter making their way over with the plates of food, and Evelyn watched as they placed them on the table, though as they turned to go, their elbow knocked against the salt, causing it to fall onto the ground and break, salt spreading out in front of their booth. Shoot. The waiter hadn’t noticed and before Evelyn could call out they’d disappeared back into the kitchen. Evelyn eyed the salt warily, scooting further away from it. “What a mess, right?” She bit her lip. “I - I have - I am unsure if I am able to clean this up.”

Nicole managed to conceal her disappointment when Evelyn mentioned the years of practice. If it were up to her, she’d want to be done dwelling right in that moment. It was up to her, she reminded herself. Getting out of her head seemed to be a theme in her life lately. Like Evelyn, she had been alone with her own thoughts for too long, but it had the opposite effect. She let out a tired sigh at that, but didn’t say anything. From the first time they had met, it was obvious there was more to Evelyn than what she presented. The things she said always left her more curious. Confused too. She was about to ask what remained to be seen according to her, but it was all interrupted by the waiter bringing their plates. She was surprised at how quick the food had come. The conversation hadn’t been torture at all. At her alcohol comment, she raised an eyebrow. “Alright, I’m sure that’s not biased at all”. She smiled, eyeing her salad with amusement.Before she could say a word, things went awry.

She tried to reach for the saltshaker, fingertips barely missing the container. Despite her quick reflexes, it slipped from her fingers all the same, shattering on the floor. Nicole winced at the sound, her heart rate jumping immediately. She could sense the heads turning in their direction. “Fu—Shit!” shit, shit, shit. That’s why she had moved it in the first place. Shifting slightly, she checked under the table if the salt had extended to their shoes. Despite the initial scare, there was a minor relief when she saw her boots were clean. Had it fallen differently, she would’ve had to give Evelyn an extremely awkward explanation as to why she couldn’t move or get up. If only her chest could get the message that there was no imminent danger, though. “It’s— it’s fine. I’m...I’m sure we can get the—” she trailed off, eyes fixed on the salt. She tried to think for a moment, but everything around her was distracting her. Was it her own scared heart racing in her ears, or— she glanced at Evelyn then, noticing her shying away. She frowned. Was she worried about the mess? It was bad sure, but they’d get someone to clean, no? Her own worries slipped to the back of her mind, concerned eyes focusing on the woman. Maybe, like her, noises freaked Evelyn out too. “What’s… are you— did the sound freak you out?” It’s okay, it’s just—” she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. It wasn’t just salt. Not to her, at least. But why would Evelyn share the same worries? “You’re unsure if...what?”

Evelyn couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at Nicole’s comment, finding herself glad that Nicole was smiling - whether or not it was entirely due to her remark or something else she wasn’t entirely sure, but she did know that she liked when Nicole was happy - which was odd, given that they hardly knew one another but it was also an unavoidable fact. Before they could say anything more, the salt had broken and she looked curiously at Nicole, regarding her reaction with a certain level of confusion. Maybe she was just very into things being clean and orderly, which this was distinctly… not. Nicole was panicking though - although Evelyn couldn’t directly sense it, she knew enough about how people behaved when they panicked that she could understand what was going on. “A bit?” Evelyn pursed her lips. “I mean, I like music for ballet to be loud sometimes, but suddenly…” her voice trailed off. “A bit startling. I suppose.” Nicole was still asking her things and she knew that she needed to come up with a further explanation, and soon. “If I can clean this up.” She repeated. “I mean, I am plenty able to clean just … not this. I have sensitive skin and it sometimes acts up.” Even she knew that that sounded ridiculous. “Could you walk over and get the waiter, maybe?”

Nicole was hardly an expert on human emotions, but for a second their eyes met she believed her own fear was mirrored in Evelyn’s eyes. It made everything much more confusing. What were the odds of— no, she put that thought to rest when the woman confirmed she had been scared by the sound, that made sense. Glass breaking was never nice to hear. “It’s fine...it’s okay” she repeated, shaking her head. Evelyn didn’t look like something who did extreme emotions. Even startled, she seemed to try and keep it together. On the edge of the table, her hand opened and closed a few times while she hesitated over reaching out to comfort her or not. “Yeah, yes— it was kinda loud but…” her fingers dug into her palm as her hand clenched into a fist. The moment had passed. Her eyes landed on the food they had both clearly forgotten about. Didn’t matter, she wasn’t hungry anymore. “What, you’re allergic to... salt?” eyes narrowed, tilting her head. Her chest stirred again. There was a sensation inside her, heavy and uncomfortable in the pit of her stomach. And when her eyes met Evelyn's again, something in her told her she couldn’t trust her. She leaned back, attempting to put some distance between them. She clenched her jaw. Whatever she was feeling, it didn’t belong to her. She liked Evelyn, she was nice. She had to forget about that cold distrust building within her because she heard a question. “Can I— ” she licked her lips nervously, eyes back on the salt. She could, technically. But Evelyn would find it incredibly odd if she circled around the pile instead of just skipping through it like any normal person unaffected by salt would. “But you— you’re closer to the… you’re closer to the kitchen” she reasoned.

She’d never run into this sort of problem in public before. Of course, there had been the time - when she was little - when one of her cooks (sillyannoyingridiculousawful she remembered thinking, after the fact) had spilled some while making some sort of dish for a party. Evelyn had been sat up on a stool, eyes wide, hair spilling over her shoulders when it had happened and she’d hopped off, eager to find a way to help the cook clean up, finding herself unable to move. She hadn’t truly understood what was going on, except that she’d started screaming at such a high pitch that one of her nannies had come running - and her father too, eventually. He’d brushed away the salt and all of a sudden she’d been able to move again. She’d grown up a great deal since then, a great deal that meant she didn’t react in such an extreme way any more but it didn’t mean that she couldn’t feel her body tense up, at least slightly - at least as much as she’d found herself able to. “I - yes.” She blinked rapidly -- too much for what was normal, but all of this was a reminder of how very much not normal she was and she took in a breath, because Nicole was good and there was no way she was a hunter (though she’d been so very wrong about that before, hadn’t she?). She looked over to Nicole for a moment, watching the other woman push herself away. She didn’t know what she was planning and she could feel her own throat growing dry. “I - no. I cannot. It - you spend time outdoors,” she began, knowing that that excuse was certainly unimpressive. “I -” she began again, pulling her lower lip in. “I cannot go past it.” She finally settled on, not daring to look at Nicole. “I will not be able to move.” If she was out to hurt her, then she would already have figured it out. “It - I have been this way for as long as I can remember.” If Nicole was completely normal, then she might think Evelyn was losing her mind, but some small part of her hoped that Nicole would just understand it all without any undesirable consequences. If not - well, the small amount of time that they had known one another had been lovely.

“What?” Nicole had to laugh at the excuse Evelyn gave. It was nervous and out of place, but in any other moment she would’ve found the humor in it. Her laugh died in her throat only a moment later. The woman’s next words didn’t sound real. Her expression morphed from nervous to puzzled in a beat, before registering the meaning. She had never been too bright, but there was no other way to interpret what Evelyn was saying, right? Ghost, spirits, they couldn’t move through salt, she recalled an exorcist’s words a few months back. But Evelyn didn’t look like a ghost. Her heart was drumming so loudly in her ears it was hard to form coherent thoughts. There was so much she didn’t know. There was another explanation, right? Something she was missing. Instead, she was jumping to conclusions. Because— It couldn’t be. Was that the reason they had connected so quickly? Her chest heaved, eyebrows furrowed so tightly, she believed the lines would stay there forever. Just briefly, she allowed herself to consider— After years by herself, had she finally found someone like her? No. She was grasping at straws. There was nothing else to draw that conclusion from, except for the salt. That could mean anything. It seemed a waiter had walked past the table and spotted the mess, muttering something about cleaning it in a second, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the woman. The salt was forgotten. She didn’t care about it anymore. It was nothing. Just a catalyst for something much bigger. She leaned forward, eyes studying her intensely. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, a clue, a tell, anything from the woman to would give away that they were more alike than she had initially thought.

“Evelyn,” Nicole called gently, despite how uncomfortable she felt using people’s names. Too personal. There was so much she wanted to ask, so many thoughts jumbled together. She was on the brink of possibly finding someone like her. The first one since— really? Was she gonna cry already? She let out a shaky breath. “I’m— what do you mean you can’t cross salt. Look— look at me,” she kept her voice as even as possible, but the words rushed out of her mouth, pushing and demanding. She didn’t want to sound angry — far from it, she only needed confirmation— but she doubted she had the nuance in her tone to not startle Evelyn. “You’re not...are you— are... are you—” she clenched her fist, frustrated. And when she thought she wouldn’t let it out, it came a whisper. Hopeful, curious, charged. “Are you not... human?”

Nicole was laughing and it didn’t seem to be right at Evelyn, at least not as far as she could tell. Except she wasn’t reacting to what Evelyn had said - at least not entirely, and she took a sip of water -- too much, filling up her mouth so much so that she could just focus on that and not whatever was going on with Nicole. Don’tbeahunterdon’tbea - she forced those thoughts out of her mind, because if she were one, Evelyn would have to find a way to deal with that but she didn’t believe that Nicole was. Her disposition was far too gentle, too nervous, too kind to be one. “What?” Evelyn’s eyes grew wide, jolted entirely out of her thoughts, though she found that she didn’t mind Nicole actually using her name - was this was it was like to have would-be friends? - she shook her head. “I - I -” Look at me. She did. Looked over to Nicole, avoiding direct eye contact but taking in her kind eyes, the way that her hair flowed over her shoulders. “I - no. Not human.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she tried to process everything. Her tone had changed and Evelyn could feel her own expression shift to one that was far more calm than it had been just moments ago -- the waiter not returning the furthest thing from her mind right now. “Are - are you not, either?” Was she a mara? That could have explained while Evelyn found herself drawn to her - she knew that Nicole wasn’t a ghost - Evelyn knew that she couldn't see ghosts, no matter how much she might have wished to (but then again, with what Nadia and Deirdre had told her she wasn’t quite as sold on those any longer). That didn’t mean there wasn’t another species out there that had some of the same difficulties as Evelyn did. “I - can - I  - I am a mara.” She bit her lip, sighed gently. “I hope that is okay.” Her voice got quieter then, nails tapping on the side of her water glass.

Silence hung over them as Nicole took everything in. For once, she couldn’t tell whether it was uncomfortable or not. It was just silence, she had too much to process to care about social cues. She had rehearsed for the evening dozens of times in her mind. Prepared as much as one could. Went over every scenario she could create, from decent, to bad, to terrible to disaster. Evelyn revealing she was not human due to a broken salt shaker hadn’t been in the cards. It was a struggle to figure out how to take the revelation. They should’ve learned about one another with time, when they had trusted each other enough to say the words without fear. Not in a loud dinner because of a preventable accident. She wasn’t human, Evelyn’s words confirmed. Her heart skipped a beat. Excitement? Was she like her, then? She didn't get the chance to ask. “I— am I? Uh...I—” she held her breath at the question. That was new, had she been too obvious? It had always been easy to conceal her otherness from the world, pass for human, stifle the animal so it was nothing but a dull ache in her chest. She had never told anyone before. Then again, no one had asked so plainly either. She didn’t fancy her chances lying, not when she never had a good poker face. It all showed in her eyes, she had been told. And Evelyn didn't deserve lies anyway, not after her unprompted honesty. Maybe she’d read her mind, somehow. Maybe she wouldn’t have to say it.

The woman continued talking, and the pressure in Nicole’s chest was too heavy to ignore. Was it disappointment? A Mara. She didn’t know that word. They weren't the same, then. She was something else entirely. A different creature? She had new questions. “I don’t—I’m not sure what...what’s that”. Evelyn’s last words made her throat tighten. She swallowed hard against the knot, blinking away the tears she knew had to be gathering in her eyes already. Was it okay? How many times had the woman asked that and gotten a negative response? How many times would Nicole have to do that if she ever felt brave enough to be honest? Unsure on what to say, she settled for what she would’ve liked to hear instead. “That’s— that’s okay. Of course, why wouldn’t—” she mumbled, lingering on the hand tapping against the glass before her eyes flicked back up, bright and understanding. She wanted to reach out and offer some comfort, but her limbs didn’t receive the message. “You’re good, please don’t think— I’m not scared, or anything”.

She let the moment hang between them, quiet and though Evelyn liked to consider herself someone who knew how to use her words well, she felt at a loss for them - for just now, she hoped, though she was not entirely sure. She certainly knew that she hadn’t gone into this evening expecting for her friend - for whatever Nicole was - to find out that she wasn’t human. This was supposed to have just been a nice outing. Something normal for Nicole, something that made her feel comfortable. She couldn’t help but feel her mind flash back to the night with Alain, when something else entirely normal and supposedly benign had outed her as not-human. Thankfully, Nicole hadn’t left her yet and Evelyn breathed a small sigh of relief.

She was stammering though and Evelyn pressed her hands against her thighs for a moment, willing any calm energy to concentrate then and now - to focus and not freak out about whatever Nicole’s eventual response would be once she was able form complete sentences. She’d give her time though - that much she more than deserved, having something like this just suddenly dropped on her.  “I - it is okay. I do not expect you to know.” She pressed her thighs against one another, taking in another deep breath. “I - I feed on fear.” Her voice was so quiet now, she wondered if Nicole could hear. “I - I promise I do not feed on fr - those I - people I like. Trust. You. I have not and shall not ever do that. I am a living nightmare, I suppose. That is likely the best manner of phrasing.” She shook her head. “You do not have to be scared of me. I - I am not bad.” She didn’t know why she felt such a desperate need to insist upon this, rather than to just leave things as they were - to state it more assuredly. “Thank you. Not everyone responds well, is all.”

If Nicole thought further explanation would clear things out, she was wrong. Evelyn’s words didn't make sense. “What is—” What exactly did she mean by feeding? How could anyone feed on fear? Impossible. She eyed the untouched salad then, swallowing all the questions she wanted to ask. “What...” referring to herself as a living nightmare didn’t help either. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to understand, she focused instead on how the woman acted. Someone who was trying her best to stay calm, whose words weren’t exactly the most coherent. Too familiar. Despite learning she was a creature who fed on fear —whatever that meant—, Evelyn had never looked more human to her. Her breath grew shallow as her throat tightened. How could she judge her for something she didn’t ask for? It wasn’t right. They lived in a cruel world, scared, persecuted, ashamed —in her case— of what they were. None of it was right. It hurt to hear Evelyn defend her nature to her. She looked down to hide her face, tears were threatening to spill. Great, had she upgraded to crying for others too? Worst of all, she didn’t know the right thing to say. Evelyn was baring secrets and she didn’t have the emotional capacity to deal with it. There were more barriers between them than just the table.

“I’m not scared of you” Nicole repeated, voice low but firm. “I don’t understand…I don’t get anything of what you’re saying, but listen—” she licked her lips as her mind went blank. Where was she going with that? She was about to find out. “You’re—” she looked at Evelyn again, heat rising to her cheeks as it often did when she was ashamed of being honest. “For some reason, the first person I thought of when I needed to talk... was you,” the reason they were at the diner, the catalyst for all the events that led Evelyn to reveal she wasn't human. New information could change opinions, sure, but she was talking to the woman who bought a guitar for her the first hour they met. There was hardly anything that could change her mind about the kind of person she was. “And you came. You said yes! To meet a— You don’t think I already know you’re not bad?”. She swallowed, getting her thoughts together. She had a lot of questions. Some that could wait until Evelyn felt safe enough with her, but there was one she couldn’t keep inside. “What did you mean by...how can anyone feed on fear? that’s not—it’s...it’s not— you can’t eat that”.

Nicole was doing a number of false starts and reformulations and Evelyn wished, if for only just a moment, to take back everything that she’d said. It was too much, maybe. Even if Nicole wasn’t getting up and leaving it could just as easily be all too much to expect her to understand. As much as it frustrated Evelyn when people didn’t seem to understand, she also couldn’t expect them to - though she figured that was more her father’s words getting to her - they often stayed away but seemed to have a tendency to reappear in moments of doubt - they had, shortly after she’d broken up with Alain and she found that they were reappearing now, much to what would have been her dismay if she’d let it.

Instead, she refocused on Nicole, who seemed to have found her own voice again and Evelyn let out her breath. “Good.” She replied. “You needn’t be scared.” Since when am I supposed to sound like my tutors from when I was a child? She mused for a moment. Nicole’s next words made her bite her lip softly, gaze growing soft, and she wasn’t quite sure what to make of the stirring of emotions that ran through her body, then. She imagined for a moment that this must have been what it would have been like to have had a friend (that word was alright to use, she figured, because that was the only way she could describe Nicole) as a child, having someone who wanted to come and talk to her and not because of her money. At least, she figured as much, given how much Nicole seemed to actively push away her offers of aid for any number of things. “I know, but I just - some see those who are not human - and they push away, they think that this changes things, even though it was not. I know of plenty of proper humans who have done more harm than anyone who is not human has ever done.” Her hands found her glass of water again and she took in another sip, Nicole’s next question not a surprise. “It - well, it is the way my body processes things. Truly, there are times when I do not understand it myself, but I just know that I - well, I can touch someone and create nightmares and that provides sustenance. Perhaps it is like how plants can take in sunlight and change it to nutrients?” She shrugged. “I am able to eat normal food too, I just need to feed on nightmares in order to survive.” Another sip of water - “I can explain further, best as I can, if you would like.”

Nicole considered the woman’s words for a second. She didn’t agree with it, but it made sense. She understood Evelyn because she wasn’t human either. She could relate. But had she been human, with no knowledge of the strange creatures that walked among them, she would have reacted differently to the revelation. She would’ve thought the woman was crazy. “That’s pretty dumb of them” to push away someone because they were different. Though, if she was being understanding with Evelyn, who could be dangerous to others, why couldn’t ignorant humans receive the same treatment? Maybe with more knowledge, their minds could be changed. The moral dilemma gave her a headache. “But I guess— guess we can’t be too hard on—on...people ” she shot a quick glance at the woman, catching herself before she could say humans.

Nicole’s eyes narrowed at the way Evelyn explained feeding, the plant analogy helping to better visualize it. It sounded terrifying and fascinating at the same time. To have the ability to unleash that sort of terror at her fingertips. It brought on more questions, but it was hard to articulate any. More than anything, it helped her understand why Evelyn had tried to reassure her she wasn’t bad. How scary were those nightmares? Could people die because of the distress? After what felt like eternity for Nicole, the waiter rushed to their side, endless apologies spilling out of his mouth. She didn’t care, she understood. The diner was full and busy, the staff not big enough to cover it. She eyed him briefly as he swept the remains of glass and salt. Only then, the pressure in her chest eased, her heart slowing down. It had to be a relief for Evelyn as well. “Yes, please—” a shy smile pulled at the side of her face. She glanced down to Evelyn’s hands, following every unintentional move. “So just… you touch someone and— does it depend on…” she paused, grabbing her beer again. She toyed with it instead of drinking.“The worse the nightmare is, the— your meal is it….meatier? or—” she cringed at her wording. She had to sound stupid.  

“It may be dumb, but it also cannot be helped, sometimes.” She knew that was why, despite everything, she still felt some level of sympathy toward her father. He should have acted better with everything, but in the end he was just scared. Evelyn knew his position and title meant nearly everything to him. So much so that he stayed married to her mother even when he knew what she was. So much so that he kept aspects of his life - so many aspects - secret. Made Evelyn play human - because being anything other than perfectly normal was frowned upon. Nicole’s words were a breath of fresh air and it made things feel at least a little bit okay. She shrugged. “I guess not.” Try living with this for years, try finding out what you are and having answers and being shut down. Try being so alone in the middle of a party thrown just for you. Though she knew that there was no way that Nicole meant any of what she’d say in any sort of negative way, Evelyn couldn’t help the desperate and uncomfortable feelings that rolled throughout her whole body.

The waiter arrived finally and had Evelyn been younger, more prone to her snobbery (though she knew that she certainly held a good bit of that now, still), she would have scoffed, asked why they had taken so long. She didn’t, now. She offered them a small smile, as if to say It does not matter. As if to entirely avoid that something so simple could so easily render her helpless. Turn her into a child again, too-long hair and bright eyes, melting down in the house’s kitchen. At least this hadn’t turned into that. At least she was safe. “I have to concentrate.” She murmured, fingers brushing along the tabletop. “I - well, they are fulfilling on different levels. I am unsure entirely, but I do find a certain satisfaction in ones that are worse, I suppose. It creates more fear which is - well, that is the essence of what I need.” Thankfully nobody else was paying them any attention. “How about we get out of here? My bar is open whenever I please, and I can tell you more there.”

“That is…” Nicole should’ve been scared, right? A person was telling her she was capable of causing people nightmares at will in order to survive. That was unlike anything she had seen in town. She should’ve been scared, because she generally had common sense. But each new bit of information she learned, only made her more curious. Only made her wonder what else was out there, hiding in plain sight. “That’s kinda cool. Shit— I mean I wouldn’t like to be the...but—” she had believed Evelyn when she said she wasn’t bad, but that sort of power in different hands—it had to be dangerous. “Oh” she was surprised by Evelyn’s suggestion to leave. Neither of them had even touched the food yet, but she couldn’t blame the woman for wanting to get as far away as possible from the diner. She looked down at her plate as she pondered. They weren’t exactly in the right place to have that sort of personal conversation, she figured. As loud as the diner was, she had to assume there were others like her among them, with keen ears. Who might not take Evelyn’s revelation as well as she had. For their safety, it was probably the best idea to follow the woman’s suggestion.

Nicole found that she didn’t mind going either.  She was drained already from being surrounded by so many people. Trying to tune out noises and smells was a struggle. She still couldn’t figure out why she had chosen Al’s to meet in the first place. Bad idea from beginning to end. She glanced at the now clean floor. They were allowed to leave now, so why not? She tried to push down the guilt over the disastrous evening. She couldn’t have known. It wasn’t her fault. “Uh— sure. Yeah, that sounds— why not?” it took everything in her to fight the urge to call it a day, and just go home, avoiding more social interaction. Deep down is what she wanted, but what she wanted wasn’t always what she needed. “Let me just...” she bit the inside of her cheek, awkwardly waiting to be noticed by the waiter to ask for the check. “I could really use a drink— a real one, after all...this. So, let’s— let’s  go”.

[stevepotterwrites]

A Review of David Lynch Biography/Memoir “Room to Dream”

As one might well expect from a book about the life and work of the eccentric auteur David Lynch, Room to Dream is by turns hilarious, heartbreaking, and a little strange. Biography and memoir in one, each chapter contains two sections separated by three or four pages of black-and-white photos from the time period covered in the chapter. First, we get a well-researched and clearly-presented biographical take featuring input from Lynch’s friends, family members, and collaborators. Former L.A. Times journalist Kristine McKenna does a fine job of keeping the story of Lynch’s improbable rise moving along. She gets out of the way and lets her interviewees do the talking when that’s best and weaves their recollections effectively giving us glimpses of the different stages of Lynch’s life and career from multiple angles. In the second section of each chapter, Lynch takes over and revisits the past in his own words. He goes into greater detail, sometimes, focusing on an aspect of the story that wasn’t covered in as much depth in Ms. McKenna’s section sometimes building on what others said. On a few occasions, he remembers things differently and disagrees with what others have said. For example, Lynch believes that Anthony Hopkins tried to get him fired from directing The Elephant Man. Ms. McKenna’s conclusion, based on her research, is that Hopkins complained bitterly about Lynch but stopped short of demanding he be fired and replaced. Who can really say for sure which account is closer to the truth? Either way, Lynch had the last laugh. The Elephant Man was a critical success and received eight Oscar nominations including Best Director. His career was launched. As much as one may be put off by Hopkins’ snotty attitude and presumption, regardless of whether or not he actually pushed to remove and replace Lynch or merely complained about him, his concern about being directed by a complete unknown isn’t really too surprising. Lynch was an inexperienced young director whose only full-length film was a bizarre, unclassifiable, no-budget, black-and-white surrealistic nightmare starring a bunch of actors no one had ever heard of before and which had only been shown as the midnight movie at a handful of art house theaters in the States. Yes, it’s recognized as a classic now and, yes, Lynch has become a legend, but at the time he was a completely unknown young American directing a cast of highly-acclaimed British actors including stage legend John Gielgud. Incredible. Thankfully, producer Mel Brooks had great faith in Lynch and admirably threw his full support behind him despite the reservations Hopkins and, quite likely, though less vocally, others had.Lynch’s rise was an astonishingly steep career trajectory by any measure. He made the animated short loop Six Men Getting Sick in 1966 and the live-action short The Grandmother in 1968 while a student at Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts in Philadelphia. Those opened the door to the American Film Institute in California where over a five-year period, on a tiny budget, with a small dedicated crew, he made Eraserhead. That film, in turn, convinced Mel Brooks that Lynch was the guy he was looking for to direct The Elephant Man  starring his wife, Anne Bancroft, among many other fine performers. Then came hard lessons learned from the $40 million (estimate according to IMDb) big-budget disaster of Dune. Despite that not going so well, producer Dino De Laurentiis gave Lynch the go-ahead to direct Blue Velvet with full creative control. Lynch found his groove and went on to create the body of work he is best known for. What we see examples of repeatedly throughout Room to Dream that at least in part explains his success is how Lynch’s charisma, contagious enthusiasm for his projects, and dedication to his craft and vision engenders a sense of loyalty from his actors, crew and other collaborators. The section of the book which recounts Catherine Coulson’s final performance in her iconic role of Margaret Lanterman, AKA the Log Lady, may well have you weeping when you read it. Her scenes will take on a deeper poignancy when you watch Twin Peaks: The Return again. Ms. Coulson was a key member of the Eraserhead team who worked tirelessly to help get that film made even donating her waitressing tips to the cause. Many of those sharing stories in the book are world-famous — Isabella Rossellini, Kyle Maclachlan, Laura Dern, Sting, John Hurt, Sissy Spacek — but some of the most illuminating insights come from lesser-known behind-the-scenes talents. One of my favorites is handyman and jack-of-all-trades, Alfredo Ponce. Mr. Ponce was doing some landscaping work in Lynch’s neighbor’s yard in the mid-nineties. Lynch struck up a conversation with him and the two hit it off. Lynch hired him to do some cleaning. He has been working for Lynch ever since taking care of everything from landscaping to plumbing to electrical work to mechanical repairs to building a set for Inland Empire.  “People see me here cleaning or raking leaves and they think nothing — they don’t know how much I know,” Mr. Ponce says. “I can smell things from far away, and I can see immediately when someone comes up here who doesn’t have David’s best interest at heart. The negative energy — I can see that, and I’ve seen a lot of people come and go. David’s an easygoing, nice person and he can be taken advantage of, so I try to protect him. Anybody who works here has to be somebody I trust.” Ponce’s picture jibes with the overall depiction of Lynch in the book. While he’s had his fallings out, breakups, business deals gone wrong and so forth the general consensus seems to be that he’s a pretty nice guy. On a scale of Dale Cooper doppelgangers, he’d likely hew more toward the Dougie Jones side of the spectrum than the Evil Coop zone. No doubt the man can be cantankerous, cranky, foul-mouthed and ill-tempered when confronted with realities that get in his way, as demonstrated in this clip below from the making of Twin Peaks: The Return, but some Hollywood veterans who’ve worked with him describe the experience as among the nicest, most pleasant and least dysfunctional gigs they’ve had in their long careers. The man has manners. He’s considerate. He knows everybody on set by name and acknowledges their contributions far beyond the directorial norm. This may in part be due to his long commitment to the daily practice of Transcendental Meditation. We also see Lynch’s maniacal attention to detail. He’ll fuss over something on set that likely won’t even be visible on screen in the end. To get the feel of the scene just right, it is important for him that all of the details be just so, just right. And, of course, if one gets to the point of fussing over minor details that won’t ever show, it’s only because there’s nothing left to fuss with. Everything is just right and ready to go. He’s like the short story writer who knows he is done with a story when he finds himself putting commas back in that he’d previously cut. Yet coupled with that powerful desire to get the set to look just the way he envisioned it is the seemingly contradictory willingness to embrace chance and serendipity, to spontaneously incorporate a new element that presents itself into the work. Lynch’s best friend since high school, the production designer and artistic director Jack Fisk, who has worked with many of the finest directors in Hollywood including the Coen Brothers and Terrence Malick and is every bit as well-respected as Lynch in the movie industry (though far less famous to the general public) gives an example of this from when they were teenagers obsessed with painting. A large moth flew onto one of Lynch’s wet paintings, got trapped and flailed away trying to break loose. While another painter might have been upset and set to work to remove the moth and smooth over the disrupted section of paint, Lynch was thrilled and at once accepted the dying moth’s struggle and eventual death as a part of the painting. Many years later, in a now famous incident, set designer Frank Silva accidentally got himself trapped on the set of Laura Palmer’s bedroom when he blocked the exit door with a dresser. He hid behind the bed during the filming of a scene. Lynch was intrigued by the thought of an unseen character hiding in the room. In a later scene in the Palmers’ living room, Silva’s face was accidentally shown reflected in a mirror. Clearly, he was supposed to be in the show. Lynch incorporated Silva into the series as a central figure, the evil, interdimensional being BOB who possesses Leland Palmer and makes him do bad things. It is hard to imagine Twin Peaks without BOB but such a version might have been if Mr. Lynch was less open to influence, if he didn’t allow himself the room to dream. Room to Dream. What a perfect title. Mr. Lynch managed to find himself the room to dream and to bring those dreams alive on film, on record, and on canvas so the rest of us can dream along with him. He got past the most common destroyer of artistic ambition — concerned, well-meaning parents who don’t understand what you’re doing — and found collaborators who did get it. That this is a book Lynch fans will enjoy goes without saying, but it’s also a good choice more generally for anyone interested in how movies get made or those who simply enjoy a good memoir.

-- Steve Potter

https://bookfreak.us/2018/10/21/david-lynchs-room-to-dream/

[33skeletons]

This is a list of all the people currently available

If this blog gains any real traction, I’ll add more... but until then, I don’t want to get too carried away until I’m 100% sure that the effort is worth it. I hope y’all understand

Name: Deydra Age: 18 Likes: ice cream, yaoi, drawing, roleplay dislikes: rude people, coffee, people putting words in her mouth, XP, Punk Bio: She’s in an open relationship with Scruff. she’s mute, but doesn’t know sign language, so she communicates via charades. She’s a low key perv, but tends to feign innocence.

Name: Friday Age: 22 Likes: flirting, coffee, making people flustered Dislikes: tea.... that stuff’s too mild, spicy food..... are you fucking insane!?! Bio: This tall drink of water is not for the feint of heart. He knows all the right buttons to push to reduce you to a blushing puddle. He has a goofy sense of humor and will often make a complete fool of himself just to make people at least crack an amused smile.

Name: Manga Age: 24 Likes: being pampered, the finer things in life Dislikes: getting dirty, being treated like a commoner Bio: This Miss Priss is a purebred with a pedigree. She believes herself to be an aristocrat and deems those of lower standard to be “plebian filth” and below her. Quick witted with a sharp tongue to boot, she’s not the nicest person to be around unless you can meet her high standards.... or give her a bottle of fancy ketchup. She has a weakness for tough guys that can match her mental capacity and hold intricate conversation with her.

Name: Punk Age: 32 Likes: What’s it to ya? Dislikes: Like you’d like ta know! Bio: he’s quite stand-off-ish and likes to keep people at arms length as much as he possibly can. He gets along with very few people and likes to shroud himself in mystery, the less you know, the better for him. He’s a wild card that enjoys throwing people for a loop at every turn.

Name: Scruff Age: 19 Likes: protecting Deydra, spicy food, tea, cuddles Dislikes: sushi, bone broth Bio: he and Deydra are in an open relationship. He cares more about Deydra than his own life. He’s a tad stand-off-ish towards anyone he doesn’t know. He tends to act as a translator for Deydra when someone doesn’t understand what she’s trying to say. All the scars on his face and his gold fangs are all from fighting to keep Deydra out of harm’s way. Wherever Deydra goes, Scruff is never very far.

Name: XP Age:15 Likes: destruction, being an asshole, getting what he wants Dislikes: being told no, having to be nice, things he destroys being fixed Bio: This edgy teen just wants the world to burn. He strives to hurt people any way he can and often ends up getting beaten senseless by Scruff when he targets Deydra. Being an Error Nightmare, he can use both Error strings and Nightmare tentacles to bring about destruction and pain, though he normally keeps the tentacles hidden as not to instantly rouse suspicion from his targets seeing as most actively avoid Nightmares, but are okay with Errors, though he can’t hide the goop that covers his right eye, which gives away his other half if anyone’s attentive enough to put two and two together in time

Name: Hokori Age: 23 Likes: food, blood, peanuts Dislikes:..... meh Bio: With his hood up, he appears to be a Dust Sans, but with his hood down it reveals a large gash in his skull and allows him to pass as your average Horror Sans. He’s volatile and unpredictable, but the fastest way to this skeleton’s proverbial heart is lots of food. He’s a bottomless pit with an insatiable apatite. If he’s out on a killing spree and has decided to target you, your best bet at escaping is to toss a handful of some kind of small, easily scattered snack such as peanuts. He’ll stop and start picking up and eating whatever you threw like James Woods from Family Guy. He’s also a bit of a perv once he’s deemed you not worth the energy of killing.

Name: Calibri (left) Age: 21 Likes: shredding sick riffs on her guitar, rapping, beating the snot out of assholes that need a checkup with karma Dislikes: Assholes, people calling her fat... I’m a queen with more curves than you know how to handle!!! get it right, fuckers!!! Bio: This badass, bodacious babe is one of Gears’s twin daughters. She’s got a sailor’s mouth with an alcohol tolerance to match. She’s hot-headed, but also mediates when her sister Chiller is too angry to see straight and starts edging too close to the line when putting her foot down. Calibri is sexy and she knows it with a ride or die attitude. She don’t need no man to take care of her, no sir! She’s perfectly capable of paying her own tab and fighting off a group of thugs that don’t know how to take no for an answer! She, her sister, and her mom can play Through The Fire And Flames on their guitars. Name: Chiller (right) Age: 21 Likes: playing guitar with her sister Calibri and mother Gears, reading Dungeons and Dragons books Dislikes: movie adaptations of books, live action adaptations of animations, assholes, being angry Bio: Chiller’s a badass babe in her own right. She survived being hooked up to a car battery and has the scars to prove it. She’s a lesbian and proud, and prefers taking on the dominant role in a relationship. Her pain tolerance is incredibly high. She enjoys hip hop, interpretive and break dancing, and is one heck of an archer with nearly dead shot aim. She’s normally stoic and very blunt with her words, preferring to only speak when necessary. She’s a natural born pack alpha.

Name: Sparkle Age: 41 Likes: anything sweet, bright colors, J-pop, K-pop Dislikes: anything bitter, having to get violent, seeing others get hurt Bio: she may look all sunshine and rainbows, but she can punch like a freight train and sometimes forgets her own strength. She suffers from hypoglycemia and has to keep sweets and candy on her person if she leaves the house, though she will gladly share them if you ask. She enjoys baking, and can often times be found doing just that out of boredom, not that anyone has been complaining. She may appear frail, but she can tank hits like a champ so long as said hits don’t come from a sharp object or gunshot. Her twin sister is Shade. She has a problem with producing more magic than her body can handle, so her sister comes in handy for that issue.

Name: Shade Age: 41 Likes: star gazing, dark colors, bitter and robust flavors, Evanescence (she knows all of their songs by heart) Dislikes: sweets, bright light, satanists Bio: Miss Doom And Gloom here is a wiccan highly skilled in her practice. She has the ability to leech magic from other monsters because she has no magic of her own to use, so she uses the magic of others, though mostly the excess magic her sister overproduces. She doesn’t enjoy getting her hands dirty in a fight,.... good thing she wears gloves! She’s rather soft spoken, but make no mistake, she has an outside voice and will not hesitate to use it if someone’s getting on her nerves. She mostly uses defensive magic to protect others, though she knows attack spells purely for the defense of herself and others should it be absolutely necessary. She also knows basic healing magic, though she can only heal minor injuries.

Name: Aiden Age: 40 Likes: pain, meat, grunge and screamo Dislikes: pop music, allergy season, Bio: This sharp toothed masochist ADORES pain, both receiving and inflicting. She got so mad once, she ruined her voice, so now she sounds like she smokes a pack a day. She’s very fast, agile, and super flexible since she’s double jointed EVERYWHERE!!! She has three rows of those razor teeth and a tongue which is so long it can act as an extra limb, which she enjoys showing off to freak people out via picking up objects such as cups, keys, pencils, and even going so far as to balance on it. She has very bad allergies, so she smells by flicking her tongue out like a reptile. Her spit and other bodily fluids are highly acidic. She’s normally chill, but it’s still obvious she’s a bit unhinged.

Name: Gears Age: 40 Likes: hot sauce, children, playing his acoustic guitar, working on cars, blacksmithing, learning new things Dislikes: sitting still for too long, sweets, water, cold, rude people, being alone Bio: Gears is a country boy that enjoys staying in top physical shape and keeping his hands and mind busy at every chance he gets. He’s just as strong as Sparkle, but slower. He has fire magic that when not fighting to keep others safe, he uses to forge metal as a freelance blacksmith. He carries a ridiculously enormous wrench forged from the hardest metal known to man that he uses as a melee weapon. Fire doesn’t harm him, but water sure as heck does (but he can drink things like koolaid and soda and be perfectly fine... just no water on it’s own or saline solution)!!! He bleeds ferrofluid, which he can manipulate, harden, and liquify at will as a last resort in a fight or to keep his injuries from deterring him too badly. He’s a bit of a himbo, but not as dumb... he just has his moments where “me brain am no werk so gud” and it’s evident when he starts having Freudian Slips in whatever he’s trying to say or his response to a question is “uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhm...... wait one...... run that by me again?”. Gears was around during the great human monster war, which in his AU the humans sealed them in the mountain, but chased them till they were backed against the barrier, but the monsters hit a massive stroke of good luck and managed to take back the underground with the help of Frisk. Being a war veteran that has seen things no one should ever have to, he suffers from PTSD. Gears has a soft spot for children, and will often babysit for others if they ask.

Name: Sketch Age: 40 Likes: drawing, painting, coloring, blood, sketching,..... what? Dislikes: ......... what were we talkin bout? Bio: Sketch is an unhinged scatterbrained clutz of an aspiring artist.... with a dark side. She’s a low-key sadist that’s developed a taste for blood. Once you piss her off, stopping her is like trying to stop the Doom Guy.... just... stay out of her warpath and pray to whoever you pray to that you’re not the one she’s storming towards. She’s a MASSIVE perv and will openly stare at whatever she sees that she likes a little too much, even known to get handsy when the person doesn’t take the hint. She often loses track of important things like her phone, keys, ect and loses her train of though every now and then or feigns it to skillfully dodge questions and conversations she’d rather not be having.

Name: Rave Age: 42 Likes: singing, dancing, fashion and most importantly BOOOOOOOYYYYYS~ Dislikes: ..... depends on the situation, really~ Bio: A flamboyantly gay vigilante is also a medic with powerful healing magic. Rave is fleet of foot and deathly quiet when sneaking up on someone and with enough stamina to outrun most of his targets. His weapon of choice is a glowstick staff. Wanna hear what he sounds like? Go to youtube and look up any nightcore male version of any Ke$ha song and that’s what he sounds like. Rave likes looking hot AF and can frequently be found rocking women’s punk, pop and grunge style clothing and looking damn good in it and some eyeshadow, eyeliner, and mascara. He prides himself in keeping himself as healthy and fit as he possibly can at all times. He unironically likes pumpkin spice anything, peppermint bark lattes, and kale chips. 

Name: Dante Age: 42 Likes: children, Italian food, guns, cigars, wine, bourbon, being a wise guy mobster, Helping others.... so long as they help someone else in return that is.... sorta like.... paying for the person behind you in a drive thru where it starts a chain reaction of people paying for the next person’s meal..... little acts of kindness make the world go round, y’know.... and I’m a charitable man. Dislikes: rude people, having to go “Melancholy”, Bio: This Mafiatale Ganz (GZTale Sans) is the don of his own mafia that deal in guns, alcohol, and providing protection to those who come to him on the day of his sister's daughter's son's niece's nephew's grandmother's sister's wedding-..... pffffft hahaha!!! Just kidding! He has no blood relatives besides his brother Leon, but this group of people (everyone in the two pictures above this) are like.... illegitimate family.... adoptive you could say. Dante’s great with kids. He and Gears are the best at babysitting and often work together to help lost children find their families again when they’re out and about. Dante enjoys giving back to the community as much as he possibly can, even spending his free time doing volunteer work and donating funds to the city. When Dante gets a custom order on a gun, he has Gears forge it for him and focuses on the fine details, dip dying, engraving and making custom bullets to match.

Name: Anomaly Age: immortal, frozen at age 23 Likes: helping others, traveling to other AUs, fruity alcohol, karaoke, JAPANESE FOOD!!! Dislikes: spicy food, beer, celery, mushrooms, country music Bio: Anomaly has ben around for god knows how long. They are bigender. They have wings and horns (cause They’re a fallen angel) but prefers to hide them away. 40 years ago, they decided to create their own AU as a safe haven for anyone trying to escape danger, though danger seems to find their little safe haven more than they’d like to admit. It was around this time they discovered forgotten AUs and ones being destroyed or deleted and decided to try to rescue as many people from them as they could, bringing them back to populate their AU Crossroads, aptly named due to it being a meltingpot of the multiverse and still growing in size and population to this day. The 9 skeletons listed above were the first 9 they ever rescued and they became like their own kids. They’re a goofball, but make Them mad and you’ll feel their wrath! Skilled in a multitude of weapons and fighting styles, they’re a formidable force of nature. They can shift between male and female at will, though they prefer their female form due to them being able to fit in smaller spaces, being lighter weight, and being able to doe eye and bat their eyelashes out of most situations.... plus free drinks at the local bar on Thursdays.

Name: Eros Age: 19 Likes: long walks on the beach, cuddles, his family, oreos Dislikes: rainy days, confrontation (cause it makes people afraid of him) Bio: This 10ft tall, frightening behemoth is actually Aiden’s son! Out of all the second generation, he’s the youngest of the adults, but the most responsible of the four boys, often being the voice of reason amongst them, especially when it comes to the well being of children around his idiotic cousins Etch and Scribble and often being the one to get little ZJ to listen to what he’s told by telling him going to bed on time and eating vegetables will make him grow up big and strong like him. He’s actually a little on the shy side and very humble, only hamming things up around ZJ and other small children present. He suffers from early onset arthritis and has to take medication for it to keep his joints from locking up and grinding together, but he doesn’t let it hold him down. He and his uncle Gears work out together because it helps his aching bones and because Gears turns it into fun little challenges for him to keep him going with it instead of giving up.

Name: Etch Age: 21 (but a few months younger than Chiller and Calibri) Likes: mEmEs!!!, weed, being annoying, prank wars Dislikes: being forgotten, being ignored, pain (has a very low pain tolerance) Bio: One of Sketch’s sons and Scribble’s twin brother. He’s just very lonely and wants people to pay attention to him to stave off being alone for as long as he can... whether said attention is positive or negative. When no one pays attention to him or there’s no one to keep his thoughts from wandering to dark places, he steals his brother’s weed stash and gets high... which his brother hates because Etch could easily go to a doctor and get his own prescribed to him, but Etch fears the doctor’s office more than death and adamantly refuses to go, even hiding or running away at the mere mention of it. Etch tried to get a tattoo once.... he went into it screaming like a badass Viking, but before they could even roll up his sleeve to start, he ran out blubbering like a baby. He’s the most irresponsible one in the entire family and is always the one to cause major problems because of a bad idea he thought was good at the time. He ends up in bad situations a lot and finds himself with the wrong crowd more often than not, but lucky for him he has a family full of badasses that come to bail him out of any situation before he ends up hurt too badly.

Name: Scribble Age: 21 (but a few months younger than Chiller and Calibri) Likes: memes, weed, hanging around Etch, Eros and ZJ, cuddles Dislikes: when Etch steals his weed, when Etch gets into trouble, pain (another with very low pain tolerance, looky there! But he has literally no tolerance for pain.... he screamed when he got those piercings)  Bio: Scribble suffers from anxiety and clinical depression and was prescribed marijuana to treat it. He and his brother were home schooled after freshman year of high school due to Etch pissing off the entire football team and them all ambushing the brothers in the locker room after gym class and um... let’s just say Etch got over it and Scribble still fears .....backdoor intimacy after what the football team did to them. Scribble is unable to protect himself and is a firm believer in pacifism. In times of battle, Scribble acts as a messenger, able to write notes in magic ink that can only be seen by it’s intended recipients. He normally just rolls with whatever Etch is doing or does what he’s told to avoid a conflict.

Name: Spritle Age: 20 Likes: Cheesy romance, dark humor and morbid jokes, rainy days Dislikes: removing her death touch nullifying necklace, people sexualizing her right off the bat, people underestimating her because of her appearance Bio: This brightly colored reaper girl is one of Sparkle’s daughters. She prefers to blend into the background and not be the center of attention if she can help it. Yes, her freckles are rainbow colors. She’s more on the proper side like her aunt Shade and enjoys a relationship if it’s not centered around perversion. She’d rather spend the day cuddled up on the couch watching disney movies, eating pizza and sharing a drink with two straws. She really likes nostalgic and retro things like 50′s diners and drive in movies. If you’re with her and intend on asking her out, doing old school gestures like laying your jacket over a puddle so she won’t step in it is the quickest way to win her over.

Name: Pixie Age: 19 Likes: when any guy is interested in her, when soon to be reaped souls try to run from her sister (It gives her something to do), sushi Dislikes: When people think she’s a child because of her nearly flat chest and high pitches voice, How her big sister has a bigger bust than her (Sprilte: Hey, if I could switch with you, I would! These things hurt my back!) Bio: Sparkle’s youngest daughter. Her father was an ErrorFellSwap Papyrus. She works with her sister as a chaser. Her job is to chase after, disarm and detain souls that refuse to be reaped when their time comes via trying to fight death or outrun it and thus trying to fight/run away from Spritle. Pixie is the first ever chaser on record and was the one who proposed the idea to the reaper council to keep reapers from tearing their bodies up to do their job. Chasers can be identified by a little white cross on their clothing or accessories and are required to be fast runners and ferocious fighters. Pixie has the speed and ferocity of a FellSwap Papyrus and is able to use her error strings to easily take weapons from your hands and tie you up to await the cold bite of Spritle’s scythe or claw blades. Pixie enjoys puzzles, her favorite being rubix cubes.

Name: ZJ Age: 4 Likes: coloring, playing outside, hanging out with the older boys, spending time with uncle Gears and uncle Dante, when his momma reads to him, hide and seek, COOKIES, CAKE AND CANDY!!! Dislikes: When people are mean and hurt others, vegetables, bed time Bio: Shade’s adopted son. ZJ is shy, yet a hyperactive ball of energy that likes to hang around with Etch, Scribble, and Eros. He has wisdom beyond his years thanks to his mother reading college level literature as his bedtime stories, but he has trouble articulating his words from the first three years of his life being spent with everyone baby talking him. When he doesn’t know how to respond to something, he just reacts by screaming “I DUNNO WHAT’S GOIN ON!!!” the same happens when he gets overwhelmed, but it’s accompanied by him hiding behind the nearest trusted adult.

FEEL FREE TO START SENDING ASKS AND RP STARTERS!!!

[teyrnacousland]

Dorian and Anders Banters

Dorian: Your magic is incredibly boring, Anders. Anders: It’s healing magic. It’s not supposed to be flashy. Dorian: But it could be, couldn’t it? Surely you could throw in a bit of flair here and there. Anders: Sure. Next time you get stabbed by a Red Templar, I’ll be sure to stop to twirl my staff around before I heal you. Dorian: I wouldn’t want it any other way.

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Anders: I don’t think I’ve ever met a real necromancer before. Dorian: We are a rare and remarkable find, certainly. Anders: I’ve heard it's one of the hardest schools of magic to master. Dorian: The hardest, actually. Although, spirit healing isn't easy either, from what I've heard. Anders: I guess. I mean, I’ve studied and practiced hard, of course, but to some extent it’s always come naturally to me. (Cole: You want to help, and so do they. They like you because you let them.)

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Anders: So. You bind spirits to your enemies’ corpses and make them fight for you in battle. I can't tell if that’s fascinating or creepy. Dorian: Oh, fascinating, definitely. Haven you ever watched me in action? I am very impressive. Anders: You, sure. Necromancy? A bit of both, at best. Dorian: Fair enough. I’ll take it.

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Dorian: Spirits really are fond of you, aren’t they? First spirit healing, then Justice, and now you’ve got Cole following you around as well. (Cole: He’s hurting, both of him are. I just want to help.) Anders: What can I say? It’s my natural charm. Dorian: You are fairly charming, for a Southerner. Anders: Well, technically, I’m part Anders. Dorian: I’ve been to the Anderfels, believe me, charm is not something that could possibly come from them. Unless, of course, your family possessed the last of the fun and attractive genes. Anders: We did. That’s the true reason the wardens are hunting me. The whole deserting and blowing up a chantry thing is secondary to my true crime. Anders: Wait, you think I’m attractive? Dorian: For a Southerner, at least. // (if romanced) Dorian: Not the most attractive Southerner I’ve met, that title is taken, unfortunately. But you’re not bad either.

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Anders: What is it like, Dorian? Dorian: Being as handsome as I am in a world full of mediocrity, you mean? It’s a burden I am happy to bear. Anders: I meant living in Tevinter. Growing up respected, and free. Being able to cast a spell without immediately worrying someone is going to kill you or lock you up for it. Dorian: We still have to worry about that last part, sometimes. Getting assassinated certainly cuts back on one’s freedoms. Dorian: But that’s not the same, is it? Honestly, I don’t know what I can say about it. It just… is. I’ve never known anything else. Anders: Lucky. Dorian: Yes. I… sorry.

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Anders: I wanted to apologize, Dorian. I think I was a bit… bitter when we last spoke. Dorian: No, no, no need for apologies. From what I know of the South’s treatment of mages, you have every right to be. Anders: Still, that’s not your fault. And the spirit in my head doesn’t like it when I don’t make amends for even minor wrongdoings. So, I apologize. Dorian: Well, I hereby absolve you your crime. You can tell your spirit that all is forgiven. Anders: He can hear you. And thanks.

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Dorian: What is it like living in the Circle, Anders? I can't even imagine. Anders: Sure you can. Just picture Skyhold, but with less windows and dark dungeons. And also imagine that about a third of the people you see around you are Templars who want you dead. Dorian: Well, that sounds… charming. Anders: Oh, it was great. Sometimes I miss little rituals like checking under my bunk for murderous Templars before bed. Dorian: Well, Cullen’s still here. I’m sure you could check for him, if you like. Anders: True. I guess things haven’t changed that much after all.

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Anders: You aren’t afraid of your magic, Dorian. Dorian: Is there a reason I should be? It isn’t as though it can manifest a will of its own and rebel against me. Anders: No, obviously not. But… It’s different when you grow up in the Circle. Or anywhere in Thedas influenced by our Chantry, really. Anders: It’s just... it’s hard not to listen when everyone tells you over and over you’re dangerous, or cursed. Dorian: Well, you’re not. I can’t claim divine certainty, but I do fancy myself somewhat of an expert on magic. It’s a skill like any other, and there’s nothing wrong with it. Anders: I appreciate the impassioned lecture, Dorian, but I’m an adult. I know all that. It’s just… your mind lies to you sometimes, makes you doubt the things you should know. Does that make sense, or do I just sound crazy? Dorian: No, your words are clear as crystal, unfortunately. I don’t know that there’s anything I can do about that. But if you ever need reminding that magic is good, I’d be happy to put on a little show for you. Anders: Perfect. You can remind me of the positives of magic by pulling spirits out of the Fade and animating decaying corpses with them. Dorian: Exactly. Nothing says “harmless fun” quite like an army of living corpses. Maybe I can make them dance? Anders: Now that would cheer me up.

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Dorian: I’m planning to go back to Tevinter, when this is all over. Anders: And here I thought the South was growing on you. Any day now I expect you to come out of your room dressed in furs and heavy armour, talking about how at home the smell of wet dogs makes you feel. Dorian: (shudders) Perish the thought. Dorian: But I’m not just bragging, this time. I was going to find a boat back after Corypheus is defeated. If you’d like, I could find one that seats one extra person. Dorian: Or, two extra people in one body, as it were. Justice would come too, I presume.   Anders: Are you... asking me to come with you? Why? Dorian: The Chantry is still looking for you, and I don’t imagine they’d be satisfied with a heartfelt apology and a promise not to do it again. Not to mention, if you’re looking for somewhere to hide without being persecuted for your magic, there’s nowhere in Thedas better than Tevinter. Anders: That’s… This may be one of the nicest things anyone has ever offered to do for me. Dorian: Come now, don’t get sappy on me. Anders: Too late. It’s happening. I might even cry. Dorian: If you get your tears all over my robes, you’re uninvited. Anders: (laughs) Anders: Thank you for the offer, Dorian. I’ll think about it.

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Anders: Dorian, I’ve considered your offer. Dorian: And?

(if Anders is with Hawke) (Or the Warden because insert kicks canon into the sun gif here) Anders: I think I’ll suffer through the South a while longer. It’s not all bad here. Dorian: You mean that one person in particular who makes it worth it. Anders: That helps, yes. Dorian: Fair enough. // (if romanced) I know what that’s like. Dorian: Well, if the two of you change your mind, do stop by and say hello. If you don’t, I might forget how grateful I am to be back somewhere that doesn’t smell like cold and wet all the time.

(otherwise) Anders: I’m in. Dorian: Wonderful! I’ll have Josephine get you a new wardrobe right away. Anders: What? Why? What’s wrong with my clothes? Dorian: As much as I’ve come to appreciate this “feathered creature dragged through a Marcher swamp” look, it isn’t exactly in style in Tevinter right now.   Anders: (muttering) I lived in the sewers, not a swamp.   Dorian: Yes. My bad. I’m sure that will make you much more popular with my countrymen. Dorian: Don’t worry, you’re in good hands. Anders: Thank you, Dorian. Not for insulting my clothes. For… well, everything else. Dorian: It’s the least I can do for a friend. Dorian: But enough of that. If you cry again, then I’ll cry, and then we’ll both look stuffy and miserable for the rest of the trip. We’ll discuss plans when we return to Skyhold.