#we also saw some spooky stuff outside the store right after we had talked about when the veil between worlds is thinnest lmao

[famewolf]

last night was the most fun I've had at work in months!

it was myself and a bunch of my favorite coworkers/managers doing an overnight to get my section ready for fall stuff. we bought pizza and arizona tea and ... genuinely just had a blast working together after hours.

it's hard to articulate, but if most every day was like that at work I'd not be constantly burnt out

[e-milieeee]

haunted

Summary: When Gabriel goes a step too far, Plagg has decided he’s had enough. 

Meanwhile, Gabriel Agreste has discovered that his house may or may not be haunted, because a vengeful spirit certainly seems to be after him. 

Notes: basically plagg being a little gremlin and trolling gabriel like he deserves. ft. gabe’s 3 remaining braincells. based on this post by @hamsternamedmarinette and @snail-noir im sorry its so crappy lol 

haunted

“Well,” Adrien is saying as he trudges inside the room and kicks the door shut. “There’s that, then.”

Plagg flits out from his shirt. His face is set in an angry mask, tail sticking straight up. “That’s that?” he echoes. “No, that’s absurd! Your father’s absurd! He should come back here and I’ll give him a piece of my mind and—”

Adrien squeezes his eyes shut. “Plagg, it’s fine. Forget it.”

Plagg makes an angry noise in the back of his throat. “So you’re just gonna take that? For weeks? He has no right.”

In his hand is the piece of paper—now crumpled—that his father had shoved into his fingers before he stormed off: the schedule for the fashion show. It runs for a week, but there’s also a terrifying amount of preparations to be done two weeks prior—all of which his father had decided he needed to be present for.

“I can’t risk making father angry,” Adrien settles with.

Plagg folds his arms. “Fine,” his kwami says curtly, in a manner of speaking that Adrien always finds hard to argue with. “Hypothetically speaking, then, if your father found out his plans had been cata—destroyed, would you be allowed to go out?”

“Plagg, I’m not going to break into my father’s study as Chat Noir to cataclysm his work just so I can go out with friends.”

Plagg smiles at him. It’s the smile Adrien had often gotten before he’d discovered the toilet paper in his washroom all scratched up and littering the floor. “Don’t worry,” comes the reply. “You won’t have to.”

***

Gabriel Agreste’s study is locked, but that doesn’t prove a problem for the small black shape that slips through the doors like they’re made of nothing more than mist. It’s dark, but cats have always seen better at night anyway.

There, on the top of his desk, lies the designs for the first set of clothes that are to be showcased. Meticulous notes. Fabric samples. Timing and schedules. Signatures and contracts.

The small, black cat picks the folder up with two paws. Then it crumbles into dust.

***

“Nathalie, did you touch the folder on my desk?”

It’s been a long morning—Gabriel had been up at 4 AM in an attempt to see if he could get an edge on Ladybug and Chat Noir. It had been horrendous to find someone to akumatize so early, and by the time he’d pinpointed his victim—forty five minutes later—he had nearly fallen asleep. He’d been pummelled by Ladybug and Chat Noir. Absolutely pummelled. And then, as if the situation couldn't help but get worse, Audrey Bourgeois had called him at six (just when he was about to go back to bed) and told him she couldn’t make it to the fashion show.

That woman had no regard for timezones. And no regard for him, either, because part of the marketing for the fashion week was Audrey’s attendance.

Gabriel was considering akumatizing himself when he realized the manila folder on his desk—that had been there when he left the night prior—was nowhere to be seen.

He searches through all his files. Crawls under his desk. Checks his lair. It's gone.

“Nathalie!” he bellows again, and she comes barrelling through the door to his office.

“What is it, sir?”

Gabriel takes a deep breath. “Have you seen the files for the fashion show? It was in the folder on my desk when I left.”

“Sir, I haven’t been in your office since last night, and I’m certain I saw your files there. Are you sure you haven’t misplaced it?”

Misplaced it, yeah. That’s what it was. Probably.

Now, what he needed was a nap.

***

The files do not turn up. Gabriel sends Nathalie to print them out again. The most important stuff is stored on his computer, but there are signatures he’d spent weeks getting.

He locks the files in his drawer the next time he gets it.

***

Tuesday morning finds Gabriel Agreste feeling much more refreshed. He even joins Adrien for three minutes during breakfast.

He walks into his office to find his favourite coffee mug in smithereens on the ground.

The files are still stored safely in his drawer. But there is a big, ugly tear across the dress he’d been working on for the past three months.

Gabriel screams.

***

Gabriel Agreste isn’t a fan of security cameras in his office. Especially because anyone with some hacking ability could possibly get their hands on the tape, and the last thing he needs is someone seeing him descending into his lair, or opening the safe behind his painting. Really—there’s simply too many sketchy things he’s done in the office for him to trust putting a camera there.

But he installs two of them nonetheless. His coffee mug could be an accident. But that rip on the dress? No, the only explanation is that it was intentional. But how?

Gabriel thinks of possibilities until he gives himself a headache.

***

“Father seems stressed lately,” Adrien notes to Plagg. There’s not much time for himself between busy schedules, but the moments in between he catches to talk to his kwami. The past week, stuck alone in his room with barely any interaction with his friends, has been draining. He cherishes the precious minutes he gets to spend with Plagg.

“Does he?” Plagg asks in a tone of practiced disinterest. “Well, he does have that really important fashion week thing coming up.”

“He asked me if I’d broken into his study a day ago, but he always locks his study. I think some of his files were missing.”

“Oh?” Plagg replies. “That’s terrible misfortune.”

“Father says he thinks a thief snuck in in the middle of the night and stole them, but we have security cameras all around the house and nothing happened.”

“Spooky.”

“Plagg…”

Plagg only shrugs. “Perhaps your house is haunted,” he replies disinterestedly. “Good thing you’re not scared of ghosts, Adrien.”

***

The house is haunted, and Gabriel cannot sleep.

The most terrifying part of watching the footage is that he sees nothing. There is no movement. No nothing. But then, the next morning, his files inside the locked drawer have disappeared.

Nathalie asks him about the dark rings around his eyes. He drinks two more cups of coffees in response.

***

Gabriel’s eyes are burning, but he’s determined to stay awake.

He likes to think himself neat and meticulous, but even he has his breaking point—his desk is littered with coffee cups, and he’s resorted to drinking energy drinks to keep himself awake. There’s less than ten days until the fashion show starts. It’s been so heavy on his schedule that he’s barely found time to akumatize three three people the past week.

Ladybug and Chat Noir must be having a field day while he’s sitting miserably in his office, waiting to catch the thief, too exhausted to summon up more akumas.

The clock ticks past midnight. Gabriel nearly faceplants into a coffee mug.

Another cup of redbull.

By the time it’s two in the morning, nothing shocking in particular has happened. Every time the flashing light of a car drives past the front of the house he starts, sits back down, and struggles to keep his eyes open.

It’s 2:04 when a crash sounds outside of his office.

Like a madman, Gabriel scrambles up from his seat. He knocks over a half-finished mug of coffee in the process, but that doesn’t matter. The door of his office slams open. He trips on a rug. But he gets up and runs like he’s never run before.

With all the force he can muster, he slams his palm down on the light, and the once-dark staircase and hall become bathed in golden light. The chandelier flickers twice and he stares down at the hall with half the mind to wonder if he’s going to finally see the ghost.

Gabriel is the only one in the hall.

He checks once more. Then again. Then again. But there is no one there, no source of the crash—

Oh, no.

The painting he’d bid at an auction twelve years ago—one that had cost a fortune—has fallen off the wall and face planted into the floor. The sight of it physically hurts Gabriel, and he’s scrambling towards it in a mixture of fear and anger when another noise sounds in his office.

In the months of being Hawkmoth, Gabriel Agreste has felt a generous range of emotions. But never has he felt such bone-chilling fear.

He heads back up the steps with robotic movements numbly. Down the corridor. Into his office.

There is no one there, and the mess that has been made is moreso his fault than of the invisible thief—or ghost—but then Gabriel sees one of his locked drawers open and the contents inside dumped unceremoniously on the ground.

The next day, when Nathalie finds him out cold on the ground, he attributes it to the exhaustion and the amount of coffee and energy drinks he’d consumed. But deep down, Gabriel knows that it’s the terror that’s finally caught up.

Either way, he faints.

***

Gabriel is confined to bed by a very concerned Nathalie. She usually heeds to his instructions, but the rare insistence from her and his own fatigue lands him out of commission for the day. It doesn’t stop him, however, from giving her a set of instructions.

“First, my office,” Gabriel croaks. His throat hurts—he must’ve caught a cold as well. “Please clean everything up and reinstall the locks. And then… and then…”

He thinks of the missing files—three times—and grits his teeth. “Cancel the fashion week.”

Nathalie’s jaw drops open. “Sir—”

“I know,” Gabriel mutters. “I just… I’m left with no choice. I’ll reschedule. Make up some excuse.”

She dips her head. “Noted, sir. Is that all?”

Gabriel gives her a miserable nod. She’s halfway out the door when he remembers.

“Nathalie!” he yells. “Get me a shaman, too.”

***

“The fashion week is cancelled.” Adrien looks up from practicing piano. “Father is sick, I think, which might be why. Nathalie looked super stressed when I saw her before my lessons.”

“Cancelled?” Plagg echoes dispassionately. “Huh. That’s too bad, I guess.”

“No, that’s good! I mean, it’s not good that my father is sick and Nathalie is stressed, but… at least I won’t be hounded about preparations. I even got permission to go out today.”

“Huh,” Plagg replies. He settles himself into his wheel of cheese. “I guess you’re lucky after all, then.”

Notes: yeah idk what i wrote but master fu is the shaman they hire and he finds out gabriel is hawkmoth and arrests him and the end if u wanna know what happens next 

Here’s my fics masterlist! 

[headoverhiddles]

Wrapped In Plastic - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: The new kid at school intrigues you. He’s infatuated too, but beneath that scary exterior, you’ve got no idea what’s in store. 

Notes: Era: Spooky Kids! Requested by anon: “High school Brian having a crush on you.”

There he is, sitting in front of the principal again. Brian Warner. You're surprised he hasn't been expelled yet, frankly, even though he just moved here to South Florida recently.

You watch from afar, sitting with your friends. He's making that face. That expression... or lack of expression. He doesn't give a fuck what he got in trouble for, and you, he and the principal know it.

"Hey. (y/n)," your best friend says, "What the hell? Are you listening?"

"Yeah," you mutter, glancing back into the office. God, he would probably fuck like an animal, taking you in some old haunted forest somewhere while spanking you and telling you you're his dirty little slut...

Your friend scoffs when she sees where you're looking.

"That guy is dangerous, quit fantasizing. That isn’t your picture perfect bad boy-- that’s like dating the next Son of Sam killer.”

Your other friend chimes in. “My sister told me she saw him and his pack of weirdos out lighting an abandoned house on fire. My sister’s friend said she hears him jerking off in the washroom every lunch hour. The whole school knows about it. Also apparently in creative writing, he turned in this story about this guy fucking his sister's corpse or something. Seriously weird, probably evil. He's gonna end up in jail, mark my words." You ignore your friend, but turn back into the conversation.

Eventually, the principal gives up, dismissing him. You see Brian join his friends outside the office door, who have been waiting-- Jeordie and Stephen, you think you've heard them called in class. The one with the brown comb-over is called Pogo outside of class, because of his fascination with serial killers. You think it's funny. Those guys just do whatever they want. 

Your breath hitches. Brian tucks his long black hair behind his ear, looking up and grinning at his friends. He's describing what he did, and he looks like a gleeful child who just got away with murder as the other two bust out laughing and dig for details. How could anyone think he's evil? 

Cold chills run through your body as he meets your eyes. Oh, fuck. He smirks a little bit your way, but you quickly look away. His features harden, and he turns back to his friends. You turn back to yours.

You can't help watching after him as he walks down the hall to fourth period, though... his head nearly reaches the ceiling, and that metal Planet Of The Apes lunchbox makes you smile. You've heard him make a threat or two to beat someone's ass with it, and you believe he'd do it. For every bully who promised him he'd be nothing, there's something about him that promised so much more.

--

The bell goes, and Brian sits down at the desk. 

"She was looking at you." 

"Yeah, she was talking to her friends about me," Brian mutters back.

"She looked like she was wetting her panties over you," Jeordie grins, "She looks like she wanted to suck your dick right there in front of Mr. Ogilvie!"

"That'd be the day," Brian sighs. 

"Yeah, you'd have beat off material forever," Pogo laughs.

"But she wasn't," he said, "You guys are just fucking blind."

"I don't know, I got some blow job vibes from her,” Pogo says. 

“You get blow job vibes from everyone.” 

“I’ll blow you for lunch money,” Jeordie mentions. Pogo shrugs. 

“I might take you up on that.” His obnoxious laughter rings out as you walk by the door. You recognize it immediately, and look back. Brian’s sitting there, knees tucked under the desk like his legs won’t fit. Shit. In your experience, being this preoccupied with someone meant you were into them... or at least, wanted to see more of them. 

Brian looks up again, and sees you staring at him. This time, he frowns. You’re drawn away by your friend, who pulls you toward your next class. As you're walking, someone calls your name.

“Hey! (y/n), right?” 

You turn as your friend keeps walking ahead. You scoff slightly as he approaches. “Like you don’t know my name.” You pause, backtrack. “I- sorry. That was mean."

“That’s okay. I’ve been known to be a little mean too,” he smirks, and he flips his hair out if his face. “I guess when you hang around a bunch of catty bitches all the time, it rubs off on you.” His voice is so deep and calm. It throws you off whenever he speaks, but does other things to you as well.

"Hanging out with a pair of delinquents can do the same." Your eyes dart inside the classroom to his friends, who are carving something into a desk. He gives a small smile.

"Touché."

“Speaking of rubbing off,” you raise an eyebrow, “Did you want to talk to me?”

He blushes, then forces his embarrassment away. “That rumor’s not true.”

“No?”

“Nah. I did light that abandoned house on fire though.” He grins, and you do as well, hugging your books closer to your chest. 

“So. You’re a rebel, huh?”

“If not putting up with everybody’s bullshit counts as rebelling, then yeah. I guess so.”

“I can respect that,” you nod. “I feel the same way... but I’m not as fearless as you.”

“Are you saying you might commit arson with me, (y/n)?” 

“Maybe. How did the conversation progress to lighting things on fire with you?” 

He laughs, ducks his head nervously. “Well. Um, I saw you staring like a creep, and... I was wondering if you wanted to be creeps together. Y’know... hang out sometime? Come see my band, or...?”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Yeah, I am.”

You smile, poking his black shirt that read Christianity is Unnatural, Abnormal, and Perverse. “You’ve got balls, Brian.” You look at the clock, and back to his class. “What do you say we fuck off for the rest of the day?”

His eyebrows shoot up. “You wanna skip class today?”

“Sorry,” you walk your fingers up his chest. “I know I’m not quite at your level of rebellion yet, but it’s a start.” 

He laughs as he follows you to your locker. 

---

“So. Do you have a car?”

“No.” He scratches his head. “We can walk back to my house, though. My parents aren’t home.” 

Following that plan, you make it back to his house. For someone hailed as the Antichrist of the school, he's got a relatively normal looking home, white picket fence and everything. All that changes once you get to his room.

"Wow," you say, looking up at everything. He's got serial killer-like writing scrawled on the wall by his bed, lyrics that seem like they're straight out of a porno or a horror film, or both. There are pentagrams drawn on his bed posts, and posters of bands like Nine Inch Nails, Ozzy Osbourne, KISS on his walls.

"I know it's stupid, but I'd give anything to meet those guys," he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's not stupid," you say, examining the edges of the posters, freyed from the move no doubt. "I actually think it's awesome. I love Ozzy."

"One day I'm gonna beat his record for most drugs consumed over a lifetime."

"Have you started practicing?" you tease.

"I... well, I haven't had the chance."

"Right. Let me know when you do." You smile, going over to sit on his bed. He looks down at you, seems to have a mini panic attack, then acts cool with it, playing with his lip ring and sitting beside you. You look around the messy floor. He's got a strange mix of stuff that oddly seems to perfectly fit his personality: leaking boxes of black hair dye, various lipsticks and nail polishes, a bag of weed, books on the rise of fascism and Carl Jung's red book, an antique-looking switchblade, a Willy Wonka hat, condoms with little angry faces drawn on them, an old deflated football with "FIGHT" written on it, and... "What's that?" you ask, leaning down. Brian coughs.

"Oh. Yearbook from last year."

You pick it up, looking at all the little drawings of candy, needles, Charles Manson and other doodles he's defaced the book with. "But you didn't go to this school last year."

"I traded my mom's diet pills for it."

"Huh. Hustling already. Must have been some good stuff." You hesitate. The page was open to the photos of you as the lead in the play last year. You smirk, pretending to squint. "Is that a cum stain I see on my face?"

"You wish," he huffs, but he's blushing, hair curtaining around his face. You give him a look, turning fully toward him.

"Why'd you really invite me over?"

"To tell you I hate you, knock you out, and bury you in my backyard." You laugh.

"I mean, if you think about it..."

"It's the perfect plan. Invite the girl you've got a crush on over, assume she's gonna make fun of you, lure her in, then get your revenge." You smile, laying back on his bed.

"You just admitted to having a crush on me."

"Wasn't it obvious?" he asks. "I only ever threaten to kill the people I really wanna fuck."

"And do you really wanna fuck me, Bri?" you ask coyly, crawling dangerously close to him. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing in his long, graceful throat. "You wanna fuck me right here, right now, while your parents aren't home, make me scream your name while you blare your favorite metal record and act like things'll never change?"

"That sounds good," he groans. His hands wander up your thigh, and you smile, bouncing on his leg. "...I also wanna share my music with you. Read a book over your shoulder. Maybe pop a few pills, key someone's car, grab a milkshake and look at the stars on Special K so we feel like we're floating, you know. Before I bang the shit out of you. Date stuff."

"Is this not our first date?" you ask. His tongue flicks up over his lip ring again. 

"I guess you could say it is."

"Good. Cause I never fuck on a first date," you say, "Or so I tell people." He clenches his jaw, and braces a skinny arm beside your head, leaning down to capture your lips. His lips taste sweet, like mint and those sugary rocket candies. He takes his shirt off, and you rub your hands down, feeling a few scars. He lets out a whimpered noise at your touch, shuddering a little. 

You make out and grind against one another for a few minutes, your hands pulling his hips closer by his black belt loops and his fingers tangling your hair. Your breath gets faster as he grinds harder, more desperately, and you reach a hand down to help him out, give him something to rut against.

"You feel so big," you moan, and he runs a hand through his hair, lips falling open.

"I'm gonna..." He makes another desperate noise, and you feel it right where you need him. But since all his condoms in here seem to be used or have faces drawn on them in scented marker, you opt for over the clothes stuff only.

"Use your fingers?" you breathe. He looks like he's about to cum, and you know it'll tip you over as well, what with all the times you had thought of him like this.

He reaches into your jeans, unzipping them, and messily finds your clit. For a teenage guy, he's not bad. He starts to rub, then reaches three fingers down to thrust them into you.

"Fuck, Bri! Three?!" you breathe. He looks into your eyes, not stopping.

"I thought girls were whores for that kind of thing!"

"It's..." you moan, "That's... oh... y-yeah... Jesus...” He really start to work them in, watching your reactions while rutting his clothed erection against your leg. "Fuck, Brian, grab my tits... yeah... this is just how I imagined it when I..."

He freezes for a second, and his whole body convulses. He gasps, and you see him reach down to cover his crotch, face going beet red. He doesn't stop, though. He keeps fingering you, and now that he's not worried about grinding, he can explore you in other ways. He attaches his lips to your neck, and sucks a hickie right below your ear. 

“Brian... Bri, make me c--” 

"Cum for me, you filthy little slut," he snarls, and you arch your back up, grinding down into his fingers as your orgasm hits. You rock through it, and he kisses you again, sloppy and hot. When he pulls away, he gives you your fingers to lick clean, which you do through a heated stare.

Things calm down into you laying back against his pillows with his stringy body tucked in a cramped position beside you. "I didn't know you were that..." you search for words. "Experienced?" 

"What, you thought I was a virgin?” 

You giggle. “I didn’t know what to think about you, to be honest. Kinky, inexperienced, I had no idea. Of course, I hoped that you were kinky.”

“I’ve been known to use restraints when asked,” he smirks.

“I’ve got that to look forward to. I thought you were cute too, though. I don’t care if you’re some devil worshipper who parents and teachers everywhere shiver at the thought of." He's quiet for a second.

"I thought you were scared of me." 

"That too, a little bit. But what scares me turns me on." He rolls over to face you, a vulnerable position for him, you can tell. 

"The way I dress is what I perceive to be beautiful. Looking like this, doing what I want to, it keeps the assholes who like to give my face their own version of plastic surgery away if they think I'm a Satanist who's gonna... cut off their mom's head or something if they fuck with me. Makes the hypocrites who call themselves teachers question their morals too, ‘teaching’ someone like me to be a good little boy and follow society’s rules. It’s all brainwashing, everything they feed us with their sugar and shit, and I’m the bad guy for standing up to it." 

You stroke hair out of his face, and he looks up at you, lips pursed. "There’s always gotta be a scapegoat. I guess you fit that role.” You look beyond him. “You think it would ruin your image if those bullies found your poetry books?” He smiles. 

“Nah. One day, I’m gonna grow up to be a big rock and roll star. I’ll use my own poetry and turn it into music, and I’ll look ten times more extreme than I do now. Then they can all say they knew me, and I’ll tell them to go to hell.” 

You snuggle into him. "Mmm. Speaking of extreme... we should pull a Sandy and Danny. I'll come to school dressed all goth and shit Monday. Throw my friends for a loop."

"Does that mean I have to dress like a cheerleader?" he asks.

"You've got the ass for it."

He grins. "Stop it, you're making it very hard for me not to wanna fuck you for real right now."

"Here's the deal," you say, "I'll show you where I live this weekend. You tell me what your favorite fruit is, because that's a soul searching question. At that point we'll know each other better... and I'll be fair game."

He bites his lip. "I feel like I've known you forever."

"Yeah. Me too."

Just then, there's a knock at the bedroom door. Startled, you sit up quickly, and who you can only assume to be Brian's mom pops her head in. "When the fuck did you two get home?!" Brian blurts.

"About five minutes ago, honey. Don't worry, we didn't hear anything. Jeordie called, said he 'left the smoke bomb under the urinals.' I hope you aren't getting up to trouble like the last school, your father had a heck of a time getting you into this one.”

“Mom.”

“He had to switch jobs too, and with his back, you know how difficult long drives can be. Oh, how rude of me-- hello sweetie, you can call me Barb."

"Mom--" 

"Brian, is this the sweet thing you had that dream about the other night?"

"MOM!"

“Hugh, Brian’s got a girlfriend over, we should turn the TV up to give them a little privacy.” 

“GIRLFRIEND?!” a voice calls up, “GOOD ON YA, SON. THAT’S MY BOY!” 

“Jesus fucking Christ...” Brian groans, burying his face in a pillow. You laugh so hard into his chest you nearly tumble off his bed. Most dangerous guy in school, your ass.

[hermit-pistol]

conspiracies and confessions (mista x reader)

This is for @honey-pea as the result of the 100 follower raffle! Yes it’s goofy...but I love it so- enjoy!  :>

You never thought that you would ever become a member of a gang, yet here you are. When Bruno Bucciarati asked you, just a common pickpocket, to become a member of Passione, you couldn't believe it. 

"You're joking, right?" 

"Passione is no joke. I think that you would fit in well. While we may have differing backgrounds, I treat my gang like family." 

He wasn't joking about that, once you passed Polpo's test and gained a "stand" of your very own, the other members of the gang welcomed you, surprisingly.

There was Narancia, an energetic young boy, Fugo, a little reserved in nature, Abbacchio, who hated your guts (or so you thought, anyway), and Mista. 

Oh, Mista. 

You probably got along the best with him. You two had the most in common, he was just so easy to talk to! More often than not you would be up until the early hours of the morning giggling about some stupid internet videos or chatting about the latest gossip. 

You would be lying to yourself if you said there were times where you thought of him as more than a friend. But, you didn't want to spoil the good relationship that you already had, although it may have been platonic in nature. 

Until then, you appreciated what you had.

----

It had been a little over a year since you joined Bruno's gang, and you could say that you had really found your home there. Another member had joined as well, going by the name of Giorno Giovanna. He was good, strong both physically and mentally, and was your team's secret weapon as of late. 

Given the nature of the missions from the boss lately, your group had been living in a tiny room inside of a turtle for longer than you would have liked. Between missions, everyone was grumpy and irritable, either camping out on the couches or floor or complaining that there weren't enough drinks in the mini-fridge. 

It also didn't help that Trish Una, the boss' daughter that they were in charge of protecting... was extremely demanding. 

After a couple of weeks of living in the furthest thing from paradise, Bruno decided that it was time for a change. 

"I've booked us a place for a couple of nights." It seemed as if everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief. "It's only fair since we've been working so hard lately." 

"Is there a pool?? I wanna go swimming!" Narancia all but yelled as he stood up from where he was slumped on the couch, excitement shone in his eyes. 

"Did you get a hotel, Bucciarati?" Abbacchio leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. 

"I didn't, the boss did. He's looked so favorably upon us that we each get our own rooms too." He raised his eyebrows, which could barely be seen behind his bangs. "Pretty neat, huh?" 

"It's about time that we got some reward for our hard work!" Mista pumped his fist into the air. Sex Pistols cheered as well, probably at the thought of all the gourmet food that they were about to eat. 

"When do we get to go?" You asked, never looking up from your book. You had started it that morning. 

"Tonight, actually. Be ready to check-in in about an hour or so." You could hear a loud 'YAY' from under Mista's hat. How cute! 

---

Within the next hour, you were laying on a plush hotel bed, continuing your reading. Bruno, Giorno, Trish, and Abbacchio were relaxing in their own rooms, but you distinctly remember Narancia saying that he was going to drag Mista and Fugo into the swimming pool. He had also asked you to go, but at that time you had found that you preferred the quiet company of a book compared to screaming children (Narancia included) at a public pool. 

It was about the paranormal, one of your favorite subjects. Nothing beats reading about creepy facts in a hotel room in the early evening, right? Your mind was racing when you heard a knock on the door. 

Throwing your book on the bed, you padded along the plush carpeting to the doorway, looking outside the peephole. It was Mista, looking around. A big smile crept onto your features as you undid the deadbolt. "Helloooo~ welcome to my crib." You giggled at your stupidity. 

Thankfully, Mista appreciated your goofy sense of humor. "You dork, if you're gonna talk to me like that for the rest of the night I should probably leave." He said in a serious tone, obviously joking. 

"Yeah, be my guest." You settled back into your comfy spot in the middle of the bed. "I thought that you were going to be at the pool with the other guys?" 

"Eh, I told them that I would join them in a little bit. The Pistols wouldn't stop complaining about wanting to see you, though." He took off his hat momentarily to let out his mischievous stand. They circled around you chanting your name. "We've missed you!" they spoke in unison. 

"I saw you all yesterday. Talk about clingy." You giggled. "I've just been reading." 

"Ooh what about?" Mista asked as he sat down on the bed next to you. You always loved when he was interested in your hobbies.

"It's about creepy stuff. Did you know that if you wake up in the middle of the night it could be because your body senses someone was staring at you?" 

"I did not, but that's absolutely terrifying." He let out a nervous laugh. "Uh...now that the adrenaline is kicking in we should read it together. I didn't need sleep tonight anyways." 

"Good idea." You opened the book, with the Sex Pistols nestling themselves in between the two of you. 

After reading for about 30 minutes or so, Mista pointed out one interesting fact himself. He was so close to you, and you hoped that he didn't hear your racing heart. 

"It says that to avoid the influences of mind control, you should craft a hat out of...tinfoil?" Pffft. "Y/N I know what we have to do now." 

"Oh yeah? Where are we gonna get it? I most certainly don't have any tinfoil on me..." 

"Abbacchio. He has to have some. He does all sorts of crazy shit to his hair." You shrugged your shoulders. You decided to let him take responsibility as the two of you left your room to make the short walk down the hall. 

One embarrassing encounter later, you had learned that Abbacchio did not have your 'fucking stupid tinfoil' and proceeded to cuss you out accordingly.

Luckily, the little convenience store down the road carried some. You picked up a pair of scissors as well, and were soon walking back to the hotel laughing about what was to come. 

"Okay Pistols, do you guys want hats too?" Mista asked once the two of you had returned to the room. They all squealed with joy. Well, there was your answer. 

You un-boxed the scissors and started cutting the first strip of the foil. It made such a satisfying sound. 

You started with 6 small strips for each of the pistols. Once they were cut, you formed the easily-malleable substance into small cones. 

"C'mere guys." You placed each one on their heads, which fit perfectly. Next you set to work making two larger ones for Mista and yourself. 

"Mista look at me!" Number 7 floated around the comforter.

"MEEESTA! Number 3 ripped my hat!" Number 5 cried as he sat on your shoulder. The thought of knowing that he wouldn't be susceptible to mind control comforted him even though his hat was’t in the best condition.

You stopped your work and examined his hat. "Number 5, it looks fine to me. Big Brother won't pierce your brain waves today. Dry those tears." 

"O-okay." He sniffled. By this point you had finished the hats. You and Mista decided to take pictures of each other to see how ridiculous you looked. 

"I look like a pointy toe." You laughed out loud as you walked to the bathroom mirror. "Let's take a picture together!" 

"Alright." He was at your side, and just before you took the picture he decided to sling an arm around you. In the moment you jumped, therefore ruining the picture. "Lemme see! You gotta send this to me." 

You looked at the result of your stupidity: a blurry picture produced by shaky hand syndrome. "Uh, let's take another one." You readied your camera, determined to make memories. 

This time when Mista put his arm around you you didn't even flinch. It felt...natural. 

The two of you were having a good time until the power went out. You could barely see your hand in front of your face, and the Pistols started screaming. "M-mista!" You could hear the whimpers of Number 5 from the other room. 

"I'm coming guys!" Mista called. "Y/N gimme your hand." You reached around the bathroom blindly, and instead made contact with his exposed midriff. Oops. 

"Sorry, sorry!" You could hear the humility in your voice as you trailed your touch over his arm to eventually reach his hand. It felt quite warm. Yours were just clammy from being a nervous wreck. 

Soon all of you were huddled together on the bed again, using cell phones for lighting. "A hotel having a power outage..seems a little strange, don't you think?" You asked. 

"Is this our next conspiracy?" Mista smirked. You still couldn't take him seriously with his tinfoil hat on. 

"Yes, Mista. The conspiracy of the idiot in the hotel room. How spooky." Your heart stopped when you heard the scratching on the door. 

"W-what was that."

"You're asking me?" Through the dim phone screen lights, you could see a worried expression cross his handsome features. "I guess that means that we have to check it out." 

"We? This is all you buddy." You gave him a playful shove, although the tone present in your voice was anything but. 

Mista got up and straightened out his outfit. He walked up to the peephole on shaky legs. "There's..no one here." He breathed a sigh of relief. 

"That's weird." You relaxed a little, the Pistols curling up in your arms, tinfoil hats scratching you.

That's when the thumping started. 

Mista was still at the door terrified. "Come here!" You mouthed, and he wasted no time in sprinting back to the bed. "Mista, I'm kind of freaked out." 

"It's okay, I am too." He opened his arms, inviting you in. You fell into them without a second thought. The Pistols joined in as well, and soon all of you were a giant ball of cuddling and crinkled tinfoil. 

You felt his heart race as you pressed your ear against his chest. You figured that since you might not get another opportunity like this you might as well confess your blossoming feelings. 

"Mista I have something to say..." His dark eyes bore into yours. 

"Sure, what's up?" The thumps were growing louder and more frequent now. 

"I really enjoy spending time with you, and you've really helped me find my place in Passione. You're definitely the member that I've grown closest to and I appreciate that, but over the past year, I've realized that maybe..." You tightened your grip on his torso.

"Maybe what? That you have romantic feelings?" 

You were shocked. "Well, you took the words right out of my mouth." The Pistols let out a collective 'oooh'. You could have sworn that you heard a distinct, 'Mista has a girlfriend~' taunt coming from one of them...probably Number 3.

The thumping was so loud at this point, you let out a scream holding onto Mista for dear life. It seemed as if the door were about to fall off of its hinges. The door eventually swung open violently. With the intensity that it had made contact with the wall you could tell that the flimsy hotel drywall was cracked. 

The lighting provided by the emergency exit signs brought out the outline of a figure, with a flowing garb and...ears? 

Thoughts were racing through your head. You whispered over to Mista, watching the figure carefully, "I think I know what that is, I read about it in my book earlier. Page 343. It's a catboy." 

"A catboy?! What...I thought those were only-" 

"A cryptid? A figment of the imagination? Me too, but we are not your average goons. We are prepared," Your eyes looked up, indicating to your hats, "I think we should rush him. The book says that they're not that violent." 

"I'm following you on this one Y/N." He was too scared to look at the figure standing in the doorway. It was surprising that it hadn't yet made a move. 

"Okay, 3.." 

"2.."

"1.. CHARGE!" Mista leapt off of the bed and ran up to the creature, tackling him to the floor, his tinfoil hat flying off.

"TAKE THAT CATBOY!" You screamed as the two wrestled on the ground, and as if on cue the lights turned back on. 

"Get off of me!" The figure turned out to be Giorno Giovanna, wearing a robe and hair curlers. "Why are you attacking me Mista, why are all of you wearing those ridiculous hats, and most importantly why am I a catboy?" You could sense the anger in his voice, which was very uncharacteristic of him since he was usually so level-headed. 

"I-" you started, taking off your hat and shamefully placing it on the bed. "We were just having a little bit of fun. Then the power turned off and we got paranoid. I'm sorry Giorno." 

"I noticed the power went out so I went to check on everyone else, I did not expect to have you lock me out of your room and then be tackled to the floor." Giorno adjusted one of his rollers that had fallen out of place due to the beatdown. 

"Sorry man, let's talk about it tomorrow morning? When emotions aren't getting in the way." Mista gave a goofy grin, and Giorno rolled his eyes in response and bid them a barely audible 'good night' as he walked down the hallway. 

Once again, it was just you, Mista, and the Pistols. At least the lights were back on again. "You're gonna have to explain that catboy thing to him later, he seemed very disturbed." 

"Will do, but back to earlier-" He sat back down on the bed with you, grabbing your hand softly. "Did you really mean all those things you said?" 

"I really did, there's no one else that I would rather be an idiot with, idiot." You laughed and placed your discarded tinfoil hat onto his head. 

The Pistols cheered, with Number 5 shedding a few tears in the process, "Man, I just love a happy ending." 

"I think that a sleepover is in order?" You playfully nudged him. 

"Count me in."

[angelbabyszn]

Quarantine & Chill (Ruby X Reader) 😷

OMB Masterlist

F/D: Favorite Dessert

"Ughhhh" you said quietly as you slowly sat up on your bed and stopped your alarm playing your wake up song on your phone.

You sit on your bed and just stare at your bed-sheets as you slowly try to wake up your mind. 

Today makes a whole month of you being in quarantine and you are over it. You miss hanging out with your core group of friends, hanging out at your favorite places to eat and hang out, and also missing seeing your crush, Ruby everyday at school especially.

You stretch out on your bed and lean back on your bed to lay on your side with your phone in front of your face.

You swipe to your messages and go straight into the group chat of your friend group to see them already texting.

You: Hey guys.

Jamal: Y/N! Hiii

Cesar: Sup Y/N.

Monse: Finally, you're awake. You can finally save me from these dudes.

Ruby: Monse, shut up. We weren't bad or anything.

Monse: Oh really? Wanna bet?

You: Chill out. I miss all of you. What y'all doing?

Cesar: Nothing. Been stuck in the house with Spooky. It's actually not that bad surprisedly.

Ruby: Are you serious right now? I feel like I'm in PRISON! PRISON! My whole family is more crazy and a nightmare to deal with everyday!

"Ruby! I need your help with the twins! They had another accident!" shouted Ruby's mom.

"¡Mamá! I just woke up! Dame un minuto." shouted Ruby back at her and went back looking at the group chat.

Ruby: Guys, seriously. SAVE. ME.

You: Maybe we can do the school packets together.

After you sent that message, you looked at the chat to see nobody was texting. You were about to get up from your bed until a few moments later, your phone started to blow up.

Ruby: YES! PLEASE! LET'S DO IT!

Cesar: I'm down for that.

Monse: Yes, please.

Jamal: Where?

Ruby: Y/N's house! 4pm! I'm on my way to freedom!

Ruby quickly got out of his bed, grabbed a towel, and went into the bathroom right before Abuela could.

"Ruby! ¿Qué estás haciendo?!" shouted Abuela and started to bang on the bathroom door outside.

"Sorry Abuela! I'll get you something in return!" shouted Ruby as he started to brush his teeth and Abuela stopped and walked back to her bedroom.

You got out of your bed and walked into the bathroom with your towel to get ready.

-

Two hours later, you were sitting in your room playing on your phone dressed up in clothes you wear around the house, warm socks on with your hair in a ponytail to look presentable.

You also did your face care so the group didn't notice your little pimples on your face. You felt kinda great because you haven't been out in a long time.

"Y/N! Your friends are here!" shouted your mom in the living room and your heart dropped. You just realized that Ruby was about to enter your house AND meet your mom for the first time!

You quickly ran to the living room knowing that your mom was about to embarrass you in front of your group of friends and your crush.

By that time, you were too late. Ruby and your mom were shaking hands.

"Ruby? Y/N talks about you a lot." said your mom as she looks at Ruby.

"Really?" asked Ruby with a smile. 

"Oh yeah. She talks about you all day, all-"

"MOM!" you shouted and Ruby and your mom looked at you quickly.

"Don't you need to go to the store?" you asked with a fake smile plastered on your face trying not to be anymore embarrassed. 

"Y/N, no. We actually got a lot-"

"Actually, we are running out of meat so you should go get that and more toilet paper." you said as you grab your mom's purse and put it in her hand.

"Really? We ran out of toilet paper? I just got more!" said your mom as you grab her mask sitting on the little table near the front door of your house.

"Well there's never enough toilet paper in this crisis so you go get more!" you said as you put the mask on your mom's face.

"Y/N. I-"

"Okay mom. See you later. I love youuu." you said as you opened the door and softly pushed your mom out of the door. 

"Y/N." your mom with her arms crossed against her chest after she turns back around towards you.

"Bye! Love you!" you said quickly and shut the door on her.

You turned back around and your friends looked at you with their jaws kinda dropped in shock including Ruby.

"What?" you asked with a puzzled face. 

"Can't believe you did that to your mom." said Cesar.

"We actually need more meat anyway. Now come on." you said as you walk over to your couch and sit down. You grab with your work packet and pencil in front of you on the coffee table.

The group took off their masks and put them on the little table. All four of them walked through your living room to find a place to sit with their work packets.

"Y/N." said Jamal and you turn to him. 

"Can I actually have some toilet paper? I need it for my quarantine bag." said Jamal and he pulls out his bag and puts it out on your coffee table.

"Oh my gosh, Jamal. You did not." you said starting to laugh a bit because Jamal actually brought one of his "bags" to your house.

Ruby turned to you as you were laughing and gained a small smile at the sight of you. He always thought you have the most beautiful smile ever.

"Fine. Bathroom." you said after you stop and Jamal walked into the bathroom with his bag to grab some toilet paper.

You lean back and start to work on your packet. Ruby was still looking at you and he started to take details of you. 

You felt somebody's eyes on you so you turned your head to the direction you felt eyes. You saw Ruby looking down and working in the recliner.

Your heart beats wondering and in hope if Ruby was looking at you. You went back to work thinking you may not have a chance with him.

Ruby looked back at you again and gained a blush knowing that you were just looking at him. 

-

Two hours later, you and the group were having fun together in the living room. You miss hanging out with everybody especially with Ruby.

Slowly throughout the night, the group started to leave and go back home. Your mom eventually came back from the store and went straight to sleep so you and Ruby were putting away the groceries.

"Not that I don't mind but, I kinda don't know why you're still here. Should you be getting back? It's almost 11." you said as you put more water in the fridge.

"I should but I don't want to leave. Everybody would start going off at me once I go home." said Ruby as he put food in the cabinets.

"I understand. You have a big family at least. It's just me and my mom." you said as you put food in the freezer.

Ruby stopped putting food away, walked behind you, and he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist, making you stop moving.

You gained a huge blush as your heart was beating fast. Ruby puts his head on your right shoulder and looks at you as you look away from him. 

"Y/N...I'm sorry." said Ruby and you stopped blushing and moved his arms off of your waist. 

"For what? You did nothing wrong." you said and Ruby grabbed both of your hands as he looked into your eyes.

A tear fell from your eye and he slowly wiped the tear from falling down your face. Ruby wrapped his arms around your waist and you quickly hugged him back. 

You felt closure and felt special once you hugged him. Nobody ever made you feel like this before other than your mom.

"Thanks Ruby." you said softy in Ruby's ear and he gained the biggest smile ever on his face while you two were still hugging. 

"Since you basically saved me today from my familia, let me make your favorite dessert." said Ruby as he softly moved you over to the side and grabbed the ice cream out of the freezer after the hug. 

"Ruby, you don't have-"

"Y/N, I want to. You're the princesa in this house. You deserve it." said Ruby as he looked at you. You gave him a warm smile and walked out of the kitchen.

Ruby smiled softly as he made F/D for you in the kitchen.

-

20 minutes later, Ruby came back to the living room with two desserts for you and himself. He hands your F/D and Ruby sits down on the couch next to you with his ice cream.

You grab the TV remote and press play on a tv show you are obsessed with recently. You started watching it with Ruby a few days before people were forced into quarantine.

"What the h*ll?" said Ruby and you laughed at his response as you two continued to watch the show 45 minutes later.

You still couldn't believe that you were still hanging out with him. You thought he would have left by now but he didn't, making you feel even more special.

Ruby starts to stare at you again as you watch the show. A few moments later, you felt somebody's eyes on you again so you turned to that direction to see Ruby. 

"What's up Ruby?" you asked and Ruby quickly turns off the TV and looks back at you.

Ruby slowly got closer to you, making your heart start to beat fast until he kissed your cheek. 

As much Ruby wants to kiss you, he doesn't want anything bad for you due to everything going on. 

"Y/N...I really like you, a lot. This quarantine got me thinking about things I tried not to think about. I thought you may not want me so I just ignored it but I can't anymore. I want to be with you. As soon this quarantine is over, I want to kiss you all day and night." said Ruby and you started to giggle at what Ruby just said.

"What?" said Ruby, confused.

"Nothing. Sorry to ruin the moment. I just can't imagine yourself with me. I do like you but I don't know why you would go out with a girl like me?" you said and Ruby got close again. 

"Because...you are so amazing, smart, kind, sweet, who doesn't want you?" said Ruby and you smiled again at him and Ruby kisses your cheek again.

"I can't do this. I hate this so much." said Ruby as he starts to get frustrated by the fact that he can't kiss you on the lips right now.

"Ruby..." you said as you touched his right cheek and started to caress it, making him look at you.

"I can't wait til this thing is over with because I want to spend time with my boyfriend." you said and kisses his left cheek. 

Both of you got comfortable on the couch and talked about random stuff until you fell asleep in his arms.

"Goodnight princesa." said Ruby and he kissed you on your forehead. You gained a small smile in your sleep and got even closer to him, making him smile and went to sleep with you in his arms.

[heartofether]

Episode 1 - Pilot TRANSCRIPT

[You can listen to the show wherever you get your podcasts, or go to our “Listen” page if you’re on desktop.]

AUTOMATED VOICE

Please state your message.

[THEME MUSIC AND INTRODUCTION PLAYS.]

VAL

Three-Eyed Frog Presents: The Heart of Ether.

[THEME CONTINUES BEFORE COMING TO A STOP.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[INT. IRENE’S CAR, EARLY EVENING.]

[THE SOUND OF A CAR DRIVING IN THE BACKGROUND.]

IRENE

Welcome to Daughtler, Washington.

I thought it might be nice to have some company, so, hope you don’t mind. I guess I didn’t want to be alone when I started a new chapter of my life in a town where I know nothing and no one.

It’s not all fearful. I mean, of course I’m scared. I have no idea how this new job is going to go, or if the people in this town are even going to like me.  Damn, what if they’re all homophobic bigots? That would suck. Not that I plan on dating or anything. No. 

I’m getting off track. Yes, I’m scared, but I think I’m also excited. I’m excited to have my own house—well, I’m renting it, and it’s old as hell, but it’s still a step-up from a college dorm. I’m excited to decorate my room and my office. Oh yeah, I get to have an office at my work. I think I’m going to do that thing where I frame my Bachelor’s and hang it right above my head. That way, everyone knows that Irene Gray spent four years and a lot of money to sit in that desk chair and stare at trees all day.

Wish you were here. [THEN, SINCERE] Of course I do. 

[SILENCE FOR A MOMENT.]

IRENE It’s a nice town. It definitely has that small town vibe you would expect, but it seems lively nonetheless. It’s early evening, and there’s still people walking around. They seem happy. That gives me hope.

There’s a candy store. A modern-looking restaurant. A big bookstore. [CHUCKLES] Seriously? A DVD rental store? Dude, I didn’t even know those still existed. I’ve never been in one. Goes to show the retro atmosphere of this town I guess. [SCOFFS] As if DVDs are that old. 

I think I’m getting close to where my neighborhood is, though. I’m out of what seemed to be the downtown shopping area? There’s a Fry’s, of course. Corporations reach into even the most niche of rustic towns in late-stage capitalism. 

[SHE PAUSES.]

IRENE

Shit, am I already lost?

I don’t know if I mentioned this, but this town didn’t show up on the map. Kinda spooky, but it could just be a mistake? People knew the name when I brought it up, and obviously I got a job here, so it’s definitely not a ghost town. It seems to be fairly populated, actually. I haven’t tried using navigation yet, but my new boss sent me a map of the town. It’s just a matter of…

[THERE’S PAPER RUSTLING.]

IRENE

Oh! Okay, there’s Lemongrass Park, I think. I know where I am now.

Turn here, and then…?

This should be it. [SHE SIGHS] Home sweet home. 

[THE CAR COMES TO A STOP. IRENE TAKES THE KEYS OUT OF THE IGNITION.]

IRENE

Thankfully, Dad came down with the movers before I was able to, so it should be set up aside from the boxes in my car. He said the place was…cute. [MUTTERS] Whatever he means by that. 

I should turn this off. I’ve got stuff to bring in, and then I have to sort through whatever the movers brought. I’ll, uh, talk to you later? Yeah.

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

[TIME JUMP: TWO DAYS LATER.]

[ANOTHER PHONE BEEP.]

[INT. IRENE’S LIVING ROOM.]

IRENE

Hey. Sorry, I didn’t pick up where I left off the other day. Honestly, I said I was going to unpack, but after bringing some boxes inside and having an Uncrustable for dinner, I was exhausted. I just made the bed and passed out. Don’t worry, I won’t be eating like a uni student anymore. [PROUD] I actually went and got groceries today, so I will be making a proper dinner to celebrate a successful first day at work. 

Yeah, I really haven’t had a chance to rest yet. Yesterday was spent unpacking and setting up the house, and today was my first day. It’s been nice, though. Being busy means I don’t have to think. 

My boss, Caroline “Please, Call Me Carol” Roberts, was really sweet. She’s not that old, maybe in her late 30’s, but her face seemed aged with the weight of…I don’t know. Stress? Trauma? Her eyes make it look like she’s seen lots happen, I guess.

She also has the stereotypical southern accent, you know the one. According to her, she grew up in West Virginia before coming down to Washington for work. She even said she lived in Point Pleasant for about a year, which is wild. Imagine living in a town that is essentially just a shrine to some insect-themed cryptid. Maybe Daughtler has a local cryptid I don’t know about. That would be cool. Haven’t seen any big monstrous statues yet, but, there’s still parts of town I haven’t explored. I’ll have to look it up.

Carol seems cool, though. She definitely knows what she’s doing, which is the most important part.

Another one of my co-workers, Aden, actually said he’d bring in homemade croissants tomorrow. He said he would have brought them in today if he had known I was starting, something he profusely apologized for, but he then said that hopefully the gesture still counts. I’m looking forward to it. He’s a bit closer to my age, and from what I can tell from his office decor, really likes cats. I think you would get along with him. 

You would like my house, too, I think. I’m sitting in the living room right now. It’s definitely aged, like I said, but the floral wallpaper is nice. Grandma-like, but nice. It’s almost like a cottage, with chipped white paint and bright green windowsills. Like something out of a fairytale.

It could be worse. Yeah, the floorboards creak, and it’s a bit dirty, but the electricity and A/C work just fine. That’s all I care about for now. I haven’t been in the attic yet. Maybe when I have some downtime. 

[SHE PAUSES FOR A MOMENT.]

IRENE

[TONE SHIFTS TO PAINFULLY REMINISCIENT, ALMOST BITTERSWEET]  I’ve thought about how you would act in this town. Which stores you would frequent. What tree in Lemongrass Park you would sit under when you want to read.

I drove past the elementary school today during pickup, and saw one of the teachers—this old woman—waving at students as they left. I thought about if that was you. You would send your students off for the day, and then come home to our little house. We would make dinner while music played from the old radio the landlord left. We’d have cats, and there would be a garden in the backyard. Every night, after dinner, we would fall asleep together to the sound of crickets outside our bedroom window.

[SHE CLEARS HER THROAT.] I know I’m getting ahead of myself, but I can’t help it. It’s an instinct for me at this point. Wherever I go, I think about if you were there with me.

[A BITTERSWEET LAUGH.] I thought time would heal all wounds, but sometimes, Rose? It feels like I miss you more and more each day. I mean, look at me. It’s been four years, I’ve graduated college, and yet I’m still recording messages for someone I knew in high school.

[QUIET] Maybe I should stop these. The audio recordings. [ALMOST ANGRY] They helped a lot at first, but now? They’re just starting to feel like more of a diary. If that’s all I need, then hell, I can go buy a notebook and start a diary.

If I ever want to fully move on, I don’t think I can keep speaking to you. Work seems like it’s going to keep me occupied, anyways. If I do decide to stop doing these, then I’ll at least do a—

[A SUDDEN PAUSE AS SHE SEES SOMETHING.]

IRENE

What the hell? Sorry, I just—I’m looking around, and—

[EERIE MUSIC BEGINS PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND. THERE ARE FOOTSTEPS ACROSS THE CREEKY WOODEN FLOOR AS IRENE WALKS OVER TO WHAT SHE SEES.]

IRENE

[DISGUSTED] What is that? It looks like, mold? No, it’s yellow, I think, and it’s seeped into the corner, both in the floorboards and up the wall. It’s not a lot, but it reeks. How did I not notice this before? Dad never mentioned anything about a mold or mildew problem, and he came to spot the house before I did.

Makes me think of rotten meat, or puss, but it’s not even liquid. It looks dry. Not that I’m going to touch it to find out.

You know what?

[EERIE MUSIC ENDS. THERE IS THE SOUND OF A CHAIR BEING DRAGGED ACROSS THE FLOOR TO COVER THE MOLD.]

IRENE

[UNUSUALLY UPBEAT] I’ll just ignore it for now. If it keeps spreading, then, well, that’s a problem I can deal with later.

Right, I should go make dinner. I know I said before that I like being busy because I don’t like to think, but now I do have some stuff to think about. [HESITATES] I’ll talk to you soon. Maybe.

Goodbye, Rose.

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

AUTOMATED VOICE

Today’s quote is: “I try to make sense of things. Which is why, I guess, I believe in destiny. There must be a reason that I am as I am. There must be.”

Robin Williams in Bicentennial Man, 1999.

[THEME MUSIC AND CREDITS PLAY.]

[jane-penvellyn-of-blackmoor]

Nancy Drew #33 Midnight in Salem Game Review

So I gave in and paid the damn $30 to play the dribble that HER's pawning off as their latest game. While there has been major controversy within the fandom over the latest Nancy Drew Game and HerInteractive in general, I'm going to stick to just the game here. My thoughts and opinions on how HER managed the fandom after Penny Miliken came onto the scene have been made clear on my sh!tposts on my blog lol. So we're talking just the game here, nothing pre-start menu - that includes real world HerInteractive drama, none of that. So let's begin...

The Start Menu - Tbh I hated the start menu. It was like a FNAF game's opening menu, clearly made in Unity and the grass textures were nightmarish. If this were my first Nancy Drew game and this was the first sight I saw upon booting the game up, I would never buy another one again.

Voice Acting - Now before ya'll go off on "That's just your nostalgia talking, give it a chance" I will have you know that I tried, I really really tried to like the new voice actress for Nancy but ugh I can't stand it. She sounds like someone pretending to be Olivia Benson off Law & Order: SVU. Like I get they wanted Nancy to sound more like a modern teenager and less "Barbie voice" like Lani's voice would stray towards but letting go of Lani was their biggest mistake. If they had kept Lani as Nancy's voice - especially for such a drastically different game setup - would have helped keep fans fixed within the Nancy Drew world that we've been following for years. Everyone else was great, I especially liked Mei and Lauren's voices and the emotions expressed within them. Also Tourist Girl outside of the Town Hall needs to be brought back in the next game and have her lines recorded on actual recording equipment because what you did HerInteractive was hysterically pathetic and unfair. I don't know if that was a place holder that got overlooked or what but for a $30 game released by a company with so many quality games under it's belt - I expect better.

Storyline - Was pretty good. Fire, robberies, political unrest, sabotage, fraud, hidden wills, all things we've seen before a dozen times but they never get old. I think it's safe to say that the storyline itself is actually what kept me playing, however about half way through I did know it was one of two suspects who was the villian and the very next reveal ensured me which one it was. Still though good story.

Script - Whoever was in charge of the character conversations, for the love of all that is holy please water the interactions down! I felt like 99% of the game was never ending conversations about crap that wasn't useful to the plot. Like filler and fluff is great but conversations that drag on and on and on aren't fun. Have a character say a line or two, then it's Nancy's turn - all this monologuing has me flying through conversations just so I can move onto the next thing. Also some of the way the lines are written make it hard for the actors to read and sound authentic. Like "I can not." (versus "I can't.") levels of unauthentic lines.

Characters - Loved the different characters, would have appreciated more that had models you could interact with.

Puzzles - Needed way more puzzles. Like WAY more. It felt like there was less than 10 puzzles in the game and the majority were stupid easy, the only 'difficult' ones were easy once you understood what they wanted you to do which for some reason wasn't made clear at the start of the puzzle.

Mini Games - Loved making Johnny Cakes and mixing herbs.

Graphics - Horrific. I played on the highest settings of graphics on my HD computer, I had zero issues with it rendering or playing through as intended and smoothly - the graphics were still shit. I've seen better graphics in Barbie's Horse Adventures or The Sims 3. If you're entire argument of shifting onto Unity was for better graphics, HerInteractive, then you need to deliver and you failed miserably at that.

Navigation - I actually had zero issue with the 'swoosh' way we moved around. At times it felt a little restrictive (like in Town Square getting around the stage) but it was fine. I just actually didn't care for the camera tilt feature, it made things ten times more complicated trying to figure out what nooks and crannies they wanted you to notice and which they didn't. I'd happily go back to the old navigation and old engines but I'm fine with the new one so long as they work on making it better.

Cursor - Hated the new cursor, bring back the magnifying glass plz.

Location - I felt that the location of Salem, MA. wasn't utilized to it's fullest potential and that the layout of the town square and the maps of the city were surprisingly unsimilar to IRL Salem. I liked the aesthetic of Lauren's Shop, The Cemetary, The Hathorne House, and Olivia's Store but all of those locations fell victim to the game's graphics, still though props to the designer of those locations in the game.

Austrian Castle - This was jarring. To have a game so drenched in it's location of Salem then it starts off in Austria, it was weird. I get it that they were like "It's connected to the Salem Witch Trials cuz of da Judge dude" but it was super unnecessary and felt like a strange sub-plot location to a game set in Salem, MA. 

Music - I liked the music, felt a little Harry Potter-ish at times and the 'indie rock' music they had that had zero lyrics was annoying but overall it was fine.

Witchy Stuff - I myself am a real practitioning witch, I am an ecclectic pagan wiccan and I know I am in the minority here but some of the puzzles were obnoxiously easy if you know anything about witchcraft. Like even the most basic level of witchcraft. If you ever skimmed through a wicca book in highschool with your edgy friends than you already know more than this game expects you to know. What pissed me off is that it's never actually explained to you. Like they bring up Samhain and fling the word around so it's all spooky and mystifying but they never once have a book or person discuss real Witchcraft with you. Like yeah Olivia is a 'real witch' or whatever and Lauren teaches you about mixing some herbs but it's still not like "Here is The Wheel of the Year, These are Sabbats and Esbats, This is an Athame, This is what we use brooms for we call them Besoms, etc" like the fact that we didn't get a wise old lady who was a clear rip off of Laurie Cabot teaching us about real Witchcraft in a very censor friendly and warm way pisses me off to no end. MISSED OPPORTUNITY HER!!!

Nancy's Behavior - So many times in this game Nancy behaved out of character to me. Like I get it, ya wanted to be all like "let's challenge her belief in ghooooosts!!" but it wasn't done correctly. Nancy wouldn't react to seeing ghosts like Scooby Doo and Shaggy.

Call Backs/Easter Egg - I appreciated the Easter Egg in this game being a literal colorful egg but it was a lame spot to hide it considering it was in plain view. However I appreciated the call backs to previous games with KoKo Kringles, Robotic Cats, and the Dear Sweet Charlotte jack-o-lantern.

Ghosts and Jumpscares - 10/10 best aspect of the game by far. The witch ghost over the bed actually got me really good and the ghosts in the underground tunnels were the best graphics of the game.

Pumpkins - Another charming part of the game that I actually enjoyed more than I anticipated. It was really cute and a fun stupid little thing to work on through out the game to find all the candles and put a pumpkin on each one.

Hardy Boys - PLEASE BRING THEM BACK FOR MORE GAMES AND NEVER STOP THE FRANCY SHIPPING. Also I could be tempted for Joe/Deirdre shipping js.

Overall - I'd rate the game a 4/10 and that's being nice. I liked it more than RAN but that’s really not saying much. It doesn’t come close to classic Nancy Drew Games.

Final Thoughts - I can't see any person who isn't a die hard Nancy Drew fan playing this and being like "Yeah I'll buy more of HerInteractive's future games!" like no. But I do see potential. I can see this as a beautiful beginning on a new platform making more immersive games. Or you know this could be the last game we get from HER and they close and go bankrupt and get flushed away and then the Miss Clue crew buys the rights for Nancy Drew and they make new Nancy Drew Games on the old platform with the old team....whichever works just fine for me :)

[yuri-n-love]

So, about real hopeless love...

Story time, everyone. Because I’m tormenting myself :’) 

Many moons ago when I was a wee lass in middle school, there was this girl. I can remember clearly the first time we started to talk, too. I always saw her on the bus and wanted to get to know her, for curiosity sake. I wanted friends and I saw her draw on the bus. I wanted to see more of her art too! She was so good! At the time, I had no clue what was in store for me, see... I had no clue I could even hold any special feelings for females. I just assumed I was a heterosexual female because I never felt anything much for females. One fateful day, she sat next to me on the bus. My anxiety was freeeeaaaking out because I really wanted to talk to her!! She was drawing and I finally worked up the courage to compliment her art. I don’t remember what she was drawing, but I still remember a little bit of what she was wearing, haha. I complimented her drawing and said she was really good... and from on then, we became friends!! I was so happy. I had made a friend that lived near me and we had a lot in common. We both liked Creepypasta and anime and spooky stuff... We really just clicked. It was great. We had made a little fort in the woods and I’d always walk to her house to hang out and we hung out a looooooot. One day at my house, we were sitting outside and she confessed to me. She confessed she had a crush on me... And I was so foolish. I regret how I responded to it now. It haunts me. I was dumbfounded and a little confused on how I should react. I loved spending time with her but I was straight! I don’t remember my exact words, but I just told her that I wasn’t interest in females. Time went on and we stayed really good friends... Some time later, we started doing some intimate things... I guess I was curious enough to figure out for myself what I could be interested in. I started feeling different things around her and we kissed, saw each other naked, and stared into each other’s eyes. I never once told her how I could feel about her. I didn’t even think I had any feelings for her at the time probably. Then some more time later and we got in trouble. We had planned to run away and do criminal like things along the way. We were found out. Our parents were furious and it split us apart. I hated it. I was so upset. I wanted to be with her so badly. I would do anything for her. We didn’t talk for a while, obviously. But maybe a couple years later or more, we started talking again in high school. I found her in high school and I couldn’t believe it!! I was so so so excited!! I wanted to talk to her again... I really wanted to hear her voice and laugh again. I knew someone in my art class who was her friend. I gradually started to talk to that person to figure out more about my old friend and figure out how I could meet her again. Then it happened... I met her again. I was so happy... absolutely happy. But things felt so different. I had become jealous. She and the other girl were really good friends, and it drove me craaaaazy! I remember feeling so miserable all by myself just because she was laughing and talking so casually with this other girl. I was frustrated and kept thinking to myself, “Don’t you like me???” Foolish. I was so foolish. We drifted apart again after some time... And I kept thinking about her. She opened my eyes to the fact that I was romantically and sexually drawn to girls as well. She showed me a part of myself that I never knew was there. I never did get into a relationship with another girl, though. I could only ever get guys. Every guy seemed to just be so into me and I wanted to find comfort in my life and yes it’s messed up to use a relationship for that but... I was scarred by a lot of things. Mentally not okay. So I kept getting into relationships with guys and they all ended horribly. But the worst thing on my end... is that I never stopped thinking about her. I realized I was in love with her. /Absolutely in love with her./ I’d tell these guys I loved them but it wasn’t love. I wasn’t in love with them. I just wanted the intimacy to make me feel better about life. But /oh my gosh/ was she on my mind!!! I would search her on Facebook again and again to look through her pictures... I missed her so so much. I felt miserable that I couldn’t talk to her. I wanted to so badly but... how could I? I was ruled by anxiety then. 100%. She had moved far away, I learned... I was so upset. I lost her. I lost her really bad. I cried about it. I really did. If only I had realized my feelings for her earlier. If only when she confessed to me, I had my head out of my ass and told her I liked her too and we could’ve started something. If only... If only... If only I wasn’t so stupid to who I was. Who I /truly/ was. I’ve always lived my life worried about what others think of me and what society thinks. What’s “normal.” Fuck that. I’m over that. I’m true to myself now. I know what I like and who I am. And if people say otherwise or put me down, fuck them. I’ll stand my ground because the only way to find happiness is to be true to yourself.

So I came over my anxiety... I messaged her a few or more days ago. At first I tried her Facebook... but the messages didn’t deliver. I was afraid I had lost her completely... I really felt I screwed up so bad. I really wanted to reach her. I looked at her art that she had on her Facebook and looked at the watermark on them. I was able to find her on DeviantART. I was so excited!! I saw she had previously posted art, she was active on the site! So I shot her a message on DA... at 4 am. I went to sleep grinning like an idiot haha. And that morning I woke up and got on DA, I saw I had a note. My heart stopped. I just... Holy shit. I was so excited. I clicked on it so fast and opened it and sure enough, it was a reply from her. I was so thrilled to see she messaged me back... I was able to get her new Facebook from her and I stated messaging her on that. I feel nervous about it though... So nervous. I type so much to her because I’m genuinely excited! And compared to her messages, I feel like mine are too much. I feel like I’m annoying and a nuisance. To type so much to her... And I tell her how much I /love/ her art and I really do... but what I also really /love/... I want to tell her so bad. But I can’t. That’s selfish. I learned I need to be selfish to be happy and be true to myself, but this time... I’m reverting back to my anxiety and I feel I have no right to love her. I feel I have no right to confess to her now. It’s be like... 4 years or so since we last talked. And I don’t know anything about her new life. What right do I have to suddenly just drop in and let her know I love her? I feel so awful about it. Even now... She literally just now messaged me back and all I want to do is tell her how much I feel. I don’t know what I’m going to do. But I do know I’m happy to talk to her again... Thank all of you who spent time to read this. Maybe I’ll be able to follow it up with something happy some day... maybe not. Only time will tell.

[silvers-au-stuff]

I caught you - chapter 1

Chapter 1

Word count: 1464. Link to it on ao3 Will be at the bottom.

Summer had since passed and it was finally time to move into the dorms, logan and decans had talked about going to college and sharing dorms since all the way back when they were sophomores in high school, so now that they were actually here it almost felt surreal for the two, decans had planned on becoming a lawyer and taking down the worst of the worst, logan didn’t know how big of a reality his friends dream could become but he supported him none the less, logan himself had always wanted to go to space, since he was young it had been his dream to become an astronaut, however it had not been long before that dream had been crushed and crumbled more than once, so instead he had gotten a new one, if he couldn’t go to space himself then you’d bet your ass he was going to help others get there, he was going to become an Aerospace Engineer no matter what.

The first few days of classes were fine and honestly logan enjoyed them, compared to high school this was so much better, he was studying things he enjoyed. After classes, he and decans usually hung out together for a while before the two needed to get started with schoolwork.

Logan had first seen his soulmates when he and decans had gone out for study snacks one evening, the one Logan assumed being roman had greeted decans in passing while at the store, as it had turned out decans soulmate Remus and Roman were twins, and Logan was highly amused by that fact, seeing how different the twins were.

After the store encounter, Logan seemed to meet the trio all the more often, however, he never made direct contact with any of them, just watching from afar, even if it made him sound like a bit of a creep. He’d see Patton hanging out at his favorite café and walking to class, he saw Virgil in the campus cafeteria and accompanying roman to the library, Roman was the one Logan would see the most frequently out of his trio of soulmates, to and from class, in the library looking for anything about fairytales and study materials. As often as he saw them separately he also saw them together, laughing and talking and being happy in each other’s company, it saddened him to see that he had been right but he forced himself to stay at a distance, after all, they didn’t need him to be happy.

October had rolled in and it was time for the spooky season but also everything pumpkin flavored, logan enjoyed it more then he’d like to admit. Usually on Halloween he, decans and decans soulmate Remus would just laze around and watch horror movies, logan was fascinated by the cinematography, Remus the slasher part and decals were there to actually watch the movie, by now decans had known his best friend and his soulmate that he had gotten used to the two of them commenting to during movies that he no longer cared and just kinda tuned it out. But this year it would be different.

For Halloween that year a big Halloween party would be happening and who could say no to crazy costumes and alcohol? Well, logan most certainly could, however, he knew that the disaster boyfriends’ knowns as his best friends would want to go and have a great time, and not wanting them to attempt to drive home after drinking he offered to do so he offered to drive them.

On the night of the Halloween party logan not wanting to dress up too much had decided to go as the 11th doctor from the popular doctor who series both decans and Remus often teased him about how big of nerd he was, he often denied it, but when he was sitting in his car driving in full 11th dr attire he really couldn’t. for a reason, he couldn’t remember dee had decided that he would go as medusa and Remus as dexter from well, dexter. When they arrived at the party it was already booming, loads of drunk people about doing their stuff, people were also flirting, dancing and talking, and in general having an all-around great time. Time passed and logan spent most of the time on the sidelines with a soda in hand, he watched as dee and Remus were being a sappy happy couple while having fun and dancing, he also saw his soulmates here and there every so often. Later in the night he had seen roman and Patton together quite the bit but had not seen Virgil in quite the while. Even though he was not the best or closest soulmate he still deeply cared about them and was quite worried about Virgil, he had revealed back in junior year of high school that he had anxiety and had an attack every so often.

Logan put his soda cup away and headed upstairs to see if he could find where Virgil was, it took a little while to navigate the upper floor of the house, but he eventually found a locked bathroom that had been occupied for quite the while. He wasn’t exactly sure what to say next, sure he could be like “hey I’m your third soulmate mate sorry for barely being there for like three years but I’m here now” yeah, no, Logan was not doing that.

He stood outside the bathroom before finally knocking on the door. He was met by a strangled “go away” from Virgil, and he guessed that it was like he suspected an anxiety attack. “I’m sorry but you have been in there for quite the while, do you require any assistance?” Logan asked, hoping that Virgil would let him help him, it took a moment before he finally got a reply, a strained “no” but this time weaker. “are you sure? We could just like to talk if that’s what you need?” Logan suggested through the door hoping that it would help his purple-themed soulmate at least a little if they did.

It was at this point that Virgil realized that he most likely would not be able to get this guy to the back of, so he let out a defeated sigh and slowly got closer to the door.

He smiled as Virgil had a little hesitantly agreed to talk, and so they did, they spent god knows how long talking, they got to the bottom as to why Virgil had gotten his panic attack in the first place and after that the conversation kept flowing, so naturally and with only the rare silences between the two, it was well into the night that the partying had started to die down that dee came looking for logan. “there you are logan we were starting to think that you had gotten lost or kidnaped” dee, who had sobered up a little joked. He chuckled slightly at the joke and knocked on the door asking how Virgil was feeling.

By the time logan needed to go Virgil felt much better and told the guy he now knew as logan, the guy wondered if he wanted help in finding his companions and he thankfully agreed.

Logan stood up and took a step back from the bathroom as to not block the path for Virgil when he came out. He smiled at the purple-haired young man as he stepped out of the bathroom. Dee and Virgil looked at each other and made some small talk, the three continued to chat as they looked around for virgils partners, they found roman passed out drunk of his arse by the pool. Dee helped them haul the big man of to virgils car and put him in the backseat. Next of they looked for Patton, he wasn’t too hard to find, he was drunk, yes but still awake and eating what was still on the snack bar, with some slight bribing logan and Virgil chaperoned Patton to the car and put him in the front seat next to the driver's seat. Virgil thanked Logan profusely, the two chatted for a bit and exchanged social media before Virgil left with his boyfriends.

Logan headed back to his best friends and apologized for making them wait, only to find Remus passed out and dee playing games on his phone, decans told him it was no problem and soon they were off back on their way home.

After the party incident Virgil had been the one to initiate the conversation, and as much as logan wanted to resist and remain detached from his trio of soulmates he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. Maybe he’d just chat with Virgil for a little while longer, not like it was going to go anywhere further after it, right?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20739989/chapters/49310873#workskin

[miss-noo-na]

“Call On Me” (Shownu Demon AU)

Title: Call On Me

Featuring: Shownu (Monsta X) x Reader

Rating: Mature. Language and slight smut

Summary: When you buy a ouija board you think you’ll get a few cheap scares. What actually comes through is much more interesting.

Requested by anon!

“Ouija boards are so fake. Look, the label says “Hasbro” on it.”

You snatched the box out of your friend’s hands and glared at her.

“This is powerful stuff here, even if it’s made by a toy company. It’s not the board itself that makes it work.” You explained, and your friend rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, let’s just do this.”

You’d lit white candles throughout the room and turned off the lights. Ever since coming in contact with the vintage board at the thrift store, you felt compelled to try it. You weren’t a serious reveler in the occult, but you did believe, and this was the perfect time to test those beliefs.

You placed the planchette on the middle of the board and positioned your finger tips on one side, your friend on the other.

“If anyone wants to talk to us, we’re here.” You said loudly into the room, and your friend sighed.

Nothing happened for a long moment, and you could tell she was about to give up, when ever so slightly the planchette began to move.

“Nice try.” Your friend said, and you shook your head, eyes going wide.

“I swear on my childhood Golfish’s name I am not moving it.”

She eyed you suspiciously, but then they shot down toward the board as it began to move with more intent, sliding and pausing over letters. Both sets of eyes tried their best to follow, memorizing the characters in your head.

W H A T  D O  Y O U  W A N T

“Rude.” You sniffed, and your friend glared at you.

“Are you seriously not doing this?”

You took your fingers off the planchette, and so did your friend. It sat on the board for a moment, and then began to move again.

“Holyshit holyshit holyshit.” Your friend breathed uneasily, clutching her chest. You simply stared in wide-eyed amazement.

W H Y  D O  Y O U  D I S T U R B  M E ?

“We’re just curious!” You called out, and suddenly every candle snuffed out at once, leaving you in darkness.

The next thing you heard was your friend screaming bloody murder and racing for the door.

“Hey, wait!” You called, fumbling in the dark after her. You paced her down the stairs.

“Don’t you ever call me over to do this shit again.” She shrieked, grabbing her coat and heading out the front door.

“Oh, come on!” You called after her, but she was already marching down the drive way. You sighed and closed the door, turning back to the stairs.

You paused, looking up into the darkened hall where your bedroom was. You felt uneasy about going back in there after what had just happened.

“It didn’t really seem threatening.” You mumbled to yourself as you began to slowly ascend the stair case. You pushed open the door and waited outside it, seeing if anything would happen, then flipped on the light.

All you saw was the board and the extinguished candles. Nothing seemed out of place.

You walked into the room and stood at the center, the board at your feet.

“Are you still here?”

“Yes.”

You screamed as you turned around to the source of the voice.  There on your bed sat a man, a very tall, handsome man with short black hair and tan skin. Not exactly what you’d picture coming from a Ouija board.

“W-what…are..what?” You fumbled over your words, hands shaking.

“You shouldn’t play with those things, you know.” He said, gesturing to the board on the floor. “You might not like what comes through there.”

“Are you going to skin me alive and play with my corpse?” You uttered your first coherent sentence, and the man laughed. He was rather cute.

“No, that’s not my style.” He shook his head, and you noted that he looked rather laid back there on your bed.

“What is your style?” You asked, not even believing you were having this conversation right now.

“I’m an Incubus, so I usually get summoned in rituals or because someone wants to have some fun. Never came through a spirit board before, though. I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

You let his words sink in. Incubus, where had you heard that before?

“Is that anything like a succubus?” You spouted, and he smirked.

“The male version of one, yes.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“So you’re going to fuck me to death, then?”

He laughed again, sitting up.

“You’re a funny one. No, I’m not. Although we could play if you wanted to.” He said, leaning forward and giving you an enticing look.  On instinct you took a step back.

“Uh, n-no, I’m good.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself. If that’s not what I’m here for, then what do you want?”

You looked around your bedroom, not thinking this plan all the way through. You thought you were going to get a spooky conversation through the board, maybe some moving furniture, not this.

“I was just messing around, I didn’t think anything would actually show up.”

He sighed. “What a waste of a good night. I guess I’ll be going.”

“Wait!” You reached out. You had to admit, as scared as you were, you were also fascinated.

He looked at you in question and you forgot what to say, so you rambled.

“This is the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me; I never thought I’d make contact with…anything, much less you. You can’t just leave.”

He looked amused by you and relaxed back into his spot, and then patted the bed next to him.

“You wanna talk? Fine, let’s talk.”

You took a tentative seat by him, staring him up and down. Besides the fact he was exceptionally good-looking, he seemed rather normal.

“So are you human?”

“No, a demon.”

You sat back.

“Not the kind of demon you’re thinking, trust me. Beside, this is just my human form. My real form is incomprehensible to human thought.” He explained, as if explaining a simple math equation and you nodded along with your jaw slack, mouth slightly ajar.

“You go around screwing people in their sleep?” You asked, and he chuckled.

“I like you, you don’t beat around the bush like most humans.” He grinned. “And not quite. Incubus are powerful, our sexual energy is off the charts, so we’re utilized for fertility rituals and good fortune. If we make love to a witch or other person capable of harnessing our power, they can use it for whatever they need.”

“That’s amazing.” You breathed, and he seemed to get an ego boost out of your fawning, he didn’t spend much time around average humans.

“I suppose it is.”

“Do people ever just want to experience it?” You asked, because you had to. Surely there was some freaky-ass witch out there that had a kink for getting it on with demons.

“Oh, certainly. Much less than you’d think, but it happens.”

“And you sleep with all of them?”

He couldn’t help but smile at all your questions, entertained by your curious nature.

“Most of the time, but even demons have hard limits.”

“Naturally.” You nodded.

“You also get the occasional magick person on a power trip that wants to make us into some sort of sex slave. Those are the ones you have to look out for.”

Your eyes widened and you let out a small gasp. “That’s awful!”

“It is.”

“Have you ever fallen in love?”

It was his turn to be taken aback.

“I mean you’re being all intimate-like with all those people, sharing your energies and whatnot, surely you grow attached sometimes? Or are Incubus’ incapable of that emotion? Oh, sorry, was that insensitive? I don’t mean to judge, I’ve never known a demon before.”

He reached out and tipped your chin with his finger. “You’re cute.  My name’s Shownu, by the way.”

Your cheeks flushed hot and you looked down. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. And to answer your question, I guess we feel something like love, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt it.”

“Me either.”

“Really? I thought humans were all about love? I mean I know they get distracted by things like money and power, but ultimately your entire existence and reason for being seems to be this love thing.”

You shrugged. “I guess, but I’ve yet to really feel it. I mean I’ve had boyfriends, and I really liked them, but love seems a lot bigger than that, and I know I’ve never felt that before. “

“Understandable.”

You fell into silence.

“I should probably get going.” Shownu said, standing, and you looked up at him with dewy eyes.

“Okay.” You said a little sadly. He smiled, reaching out to push some hair behind your ear.

“You could always call me again, if you’d like. I can’t guarantee that janky toy will bring me back, but it’s worth a shot.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

He stared down at you. “Not at all, it’s rare I get to sit and talk with someone.”

You smiled up at him, watching him walk toward the board. The closer he got, the more his image faded, like he was disappearing into sunlight, and then he was no more.

For the next few days you thought about his often, wondering if maybe it had all been a very vivid dream. You apologized to your friend, who wanted to pretend it never happened and made you swear to never speak of it again. You never told her about the demon’s visit.

Once you had really started to doubt yourself, you decided you had to try it again, to see if maybe he would come back. You re-created the scenery of candles and sat at the board in the dark.

“I’m not sure if you’re out there, Shownu. If you are, I’d like to speak with you again.”

Silence.

You placed for fingers on the planchette and waited. Nothing happened.

“Please?” You asked quietly into the dark. More stillness. You sighed, about to remove your hands and give up, when suddenly they felt glued to the planchette, and it began to move.

I M  H E R E

You broke into a wide, happy smile. “Is it really you?” You asked, and waited. The tension in your body faded and your arms went slack, you were able to remove your fingers, and you pouted again. Had you lost him?

“Hey.” A voice said softly in the dark, and your head shot up.

“You’re here!” You said, standing up to find him sitting in the same spot as before.

“I told you that. You looked awfully happy to see me.”

“I didn’t think I’d get to talk to you again.”

He stood up and approached you, and you realized how tall and imposing he was. The candles flickered off his face beautifully, and you drew in a sharp breath once he was in front of you.

“You flatter me.”

You stepped back a little and dropped your head, brushing your hand nervously through your hair.

“You want to stay and talk?”

“Sure.” He said with a grin. You didn’t bother with the lights this time, just sat in the dark with the candles, there on your floor, talking with the demon. He told you so much more about magick, other types of demons, and the things he’d seen and done. You listened with rapt attention, leaning forward with large, intrigued eyes. Sometimes the way he glanced at you as he spoke made your insides warm, but you couldn’t look away.

It was sad to see him go, but he left you with a slice of hope.

“It seems this board has us linked.” He commented, pointing to it.

“Am I bothering you?”

“No. Feel free to use it again. I like talking to you.”

With that, he was gone.

And so you did, every few nights. You’d light your candles and place your hands on the board, and Shownu would come back to you. He stayed a little longer each time, and the conversations got deeper and deeper. One night, sitting on the floor at the end of your bed, side by side, your head fell to his shoulder as he spoke. You were sleepy, lulled by his voice, and it felt like the most natural thing to do. He peered down at you, his voice faltering.

“I’m sorry.” You said, quickly lifting your head back up.

“No, it’s fine.” He nodded, “Go ahead.”

You stared up at him a moment, and then gently lay your head back down on his shoulder.

“Where was I?” He said, before finding his point and continuing to speak, voice a little quieter now. You drifted to sleep and when you awoke, he was gone. However, he had tucked you soundly into bed before he left.

As you grew emotionally, physically you drew nearer as well. It wasn’t uncommon anymore to rest upon him as you talked, and on occasion when he was feeling tired himself, he’d lay his head in your lap and you’d stroke your fingers against his scalp. It really felt like having a boyfriend around, one that you admittedly were falling for. You never spoke of this to Shownu though, not even sure if he was capable of sharing your feelings.

One night, before he left, you kissed him. It took you both completely off-guard, as it had only felt natural to do at the time, but feeling him stiffen made reality come crashing back down on you.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, was that weird of me?” You asked, standing up and backing away from him as if he’d explode. He let out a laugh and reached out toward you, grabbing your hand and pulling you back to sit next to him. When you were in place, he cupped the side of your face, under your hair, and leant down to kiss you back.

It didn’t feel like any kiss you’d had before. You may have gotten butterflies once or twice, but this felt like fire scorching your insides, and you may have even gasped into his mouth when he pulled you deeper and parted your lips with his own.  When he stopped, you felt dizzy.

“Wow.” You breathed, not intending to say it aloud, and Shownu chuckled.

“That’s why I never made a move on you before this.” He said. “Even though I wanted to.”

“You wanted to?” You asked with wide eyes and he nodded.

“I didn’t know if you’d be able to handle my….energy.” He tried to say delicately, which was to say that being a demon created for passionate sex, his presence could be overwhelming to some.

“You really wanted to?” You asked again, still not believing him and he laugh, stroking your cheek.

“Of course, it’s not often I come across someone so sweet. Your innocence is genuine; it’s different and welcoming to me. I feel safe here, and I feel in total comfort with you.”

You smiled wide. “I’m glad” You said, ducking your head and blushing.

“It’s also not common that someone would actually want to get to know me, instead of just using me.” He continued to explain, his voice dropping some

“Although,” He began, tone teasing, leaning into you “at this point, I don’t think it’d be considered using me.”

You swallowed, laughing nervously, knowing exactly what he meant.

“Of course, only if you wanted to.” He was quick to correct, sitting up straight once he saw how you withdrew.

“Don’t I have to be asleep?” You asked then, recalling your limited knowledge of this particular type of demon. You blinked your eyes up at him naively and he smiled, letting out a laugh.

“Well, you don’t have to be, since you were somehow able to manifest me here physically through the board. That means we can do anything physically.”

You suddenly felt very faint.

“No pressure.” Shownu raised his hands palm out an nodded. You felt a swirl of contrasting emotions, wanting very much to get closer to him, yet terrified to do so. You don’t know what would happen if you went through with it, but the endless possibilities of what you might feel put you on edge.

You dropped the subject after that, continuing a light-hearted chat until it was time to go. Before he left, he planted a kiss on your forehead.

You thought a lot about the conversation, and that kiss, the rest of the night and into the morning. You got butterflies in your stomach every time, sometimes your knees weakening as you let your thoughts drift further into potential. It was never too graphic, just flashes across your thoughts of his bronze skin and feeling his warmth, fingertips trailing over your skin.

When he returned the next night, he seemed to be in good spirits, talkative from the moment he arrived. You watched him, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip and toying with your decision.

“Make love to me.”

The words came out suddenly, spluttering off your lips and putting Shownu into silence.

“Pardon?” He asked, bemused. You blushed deeply.

“I want to…” You trailed, now finding it difficult to say after you’d just embarrassed yourself.

Shownu sat down next to you and reached out for your hand.

“It sounds like you said you wanted me to make love to you.” He drew lines around your hand with his fingertip, and you noticed a slight smirk on his lips.

“I do.” You breathed, and he only smiled more.

“I’d be happy to.”

Before you could react or respond, he was kissing you, making you feel woozy at the gentlest brush of his lips. He cupped your face, pulled you closer, and you swayed into him, eyes falling shut. He held you captive by your mouth for endless seconds, diving in deeper to feel your tongue and let his hands travel down your body with feather-light touches.

He gently guided you back onto the bed, hovering over you and making sure not to put too much weight on you. He was excited, but restrained himself.

His kisses moved light and quick across your neck and collar bones, stopping temporarily at the fabric of your shirt so he could remove it. He did this with the rest of your body, trailing the pecks across your skin and taking off anything that got in his way. You shivered once you were exposed to the air, whether out of actual chill or anticipation you weren’t sure. You’d been staring at the ceiling intently the entire time, and Shownu laughed against your neck once he made his way back up to you.

“Relax.” He whispered into your ear, but that only made you tense up more.

He pulled his clothing off and you scanned his body, your chill turning into a sweep of heat from your cheeks to your toes.  His skin felt as warm as it looked, and as he laid himself on top of you, you finally began to calm down.

He laid there with you for a long time, sprinkling kisses over you and caressing you, allowing you to ease into the sensations because he knew they could be intense. When his tender fingers finally found their way between your legs you let out a light gasp, eyes fluttering shut. He nuzzled his face into your neck and allowed two of the digits to stroke between the folds and up to the sensitive nub, circling it slowly before dipping back down. You began to breathe heavily, lost in the feeling.

“Do you want more?” He asked against your ear and you nodded eagerly. You felt him smile against your skin.

He pressed one finger into you, and your back rose up in an arch off the bed the deeper it sank into you.

“More.”

The word tumbled from your delicate lips and you almost cried out as he removed the finger, but then felt your knees being nudged apart by his body. You opened your eyes for the first time in a long while and blinked up at him. He looked at you caringly and leaned over you, placing a kiss on your forehead as he sank himself inside you. You whined and arched up even more, and he sighed against you.

As he started to move, you felt nothing but searing heat and pleasure sparking between your bodies, feeding off his energy and giving it right back to him. He held you close the entire time, filling your lungs with his breath.  You struggled to keep your eyes open, and they pressed closed more often than not. You gripped at his skin and he mumbled his praises against your mouth, which ignited your mind as much as your body.

When you climaxed he expertly timed it so both of your releases happened in tandem, with sobs and moans and heaving breath.  After the electricity fizzled out you felt him rest against you, and didn’t remember much else because you promptly fell into a deep sleep.

When you awoke, you found your head resting on Shownu’s chest. His skin was so warm and inviting.

“You’re up.” He said, glancing down at you, and you looked up at him lazily, eyes only half opened. He laughed and stroked your back.

“I feel like I just woke up from a coma.” You murmured, closing your eyes once more.

“Yeah, it happens. You’re only human, after all.” He teased, and you had a feeling he liked how much power he had over mortal women, especially you. You weren’t complaining.

You suddenly looked up at him, eyes snapping open.

“You stayed.” You said, realizing this is the longest he’d ever remained here.

“Funny thing, that. As it turns out, now that we’ve become intimate I think it’s kind of…bonded me here.” He tried to explain, but you were too out of it to really comprehend.  He noted this and continued.

“I don’t have to go back into the board.”

You blinked up at him, swelling with happiness. However, it became replaced with concern.

“Are you okay with that?”

“Of course. I can still leave my usual way, if I want. But I can stay as long as I want now, and you don’t have to call me.”

You grinned and snuggled into him. “Does that mean you’ll come visit more often?”

“I might not want to leave.”

You were taken aback by this, but delighted all the same.

“I mean, I’m always coming back here anyway.” He shrugged, and you laughed.

“I wouldn’t mind that.”

“Good, because I already decided that while you were sleeping.”

You didn’t know where exactly it would go from here, as a simple mortal woman with a demon by your side, but you were both eager to find out. And to think it was all thanks to a silly toy.

[razorsadness]

Things I forgot to say in my last post, + some new things:

1. On that trip to SF/Oakland where I met P., I performed at an event called the Big Gay Cabaret. (That’s when I mainly performed music, both after and before my spoken word years, but I digress.) Part of the reason I made the trip out there at that time was so I could be part of the BGC. Now, the organizers called it that because there’s a nice rhyme to “Big Gay Cabaret;” ostensibly it was an event for all us LGBTQIA+ folks. After the fact, I heard that some of the organizers complained that not all the performers were “queer enough,” and I’m pretty sure I was the most egregiously “not queer enough” performer. I was wearing a very “girly” dress that night, and I played a song I’d written about P.—I introduced it by saying: “This is for someone who’s in the audience. Hopefully he won’t run screaming away when he hears it.” So, yes, I was very feminine-presenting and mentioned that the song was about a “he,” but like: the song itself didn’t have any pronouns in it, so it could’ve been about anyone of any gender. Not to mention, they didn’t know my gender identity and sexual orientation, or P.’s. For all they knew, P. could’ve been bi or non-binary or trans, and I’m bisexual and non-binary, no matter what I look like or who I’m with. Yeah, I wear dresses and fuck dudes sometimes. Still here, still queer, get over it! That whole thing made me a little salty. But whatever, the other performers dug my shit, and after the cabaret a group of us went to a burlesque show, and P. and I drank absinthe, and a bunch of half-naked burlesque girls told me I was gorgeous, and when we went outside to smoke P. let me wear his leather jacket (because June in San Francisco is cold) and he took a photo of me that’s one of my favorite photos of me, ever, and then later that night I told him I loved him.

2. Last week, on a night when I couldn’t sleep because it was too hot, I was sitting out on our back steps, and I saw a shooting star flash its green length partway across the sky before disappearing. (Yes, I made a wish.)

3. Our date on Saturday was really nice. It was so good to be out in the world. There was hardly anyone else in the bar we went to, and the staff are all fully vaccinated (they have a sign on their door stating so) and so are we, so we got to sit at the bar, and talk to the owners, and oh my god! A conversation with other humans not in my pod! In a bar! And we loitered a bit in my favorite alley (what, you don’t have a favorite alley?), taking photos and looking at all the scratchings people had left. I saw the names of three old flames, all of whom were people I met and fell for in ‘03 or ‘04, which is a time period I have been thinking and writing about a lot lately, and it felt a bit spooky. Later on, we sat out on our patio, and our neighbors across the street were having a graduation party for their son, and they had a DJ spinning old soul and R&B, and so we got to enjoy their music while we sipped our fancy cocktails.

4. I love that people are having parties again, and going out again (I know, some people never stopped doing those things, but I am talking about the world-at-large), but I hate the uptick in mass shootings that has come with it. I’m no longer so scared of catching CoViD when I go to a store, but I am now, once again, scared of getting shot. Fuck the NRA and all the politicians who are paid off by them to further their agenda. That’s all I’ll say about it for now, or I’ll get too angry and upset.

5. Saturday night, I had another intense dream. This one wasn’t sexy or fun-weird or even melancholy, no, this one was straight-up horrific. It involved a cursed house, and floods, and murder, and suicide, and the murders and suicides were extremely graphic. It’s been a while since I’ve had a nightmare like that. I used to have graphically horrific nightmares at least once a month, if not more, and thank god they’re more infrequent now—but when I do get them, oh, they’re still just as awful as they ever were. Sometimes horror films don’t do it for me because my subconscious creates way more horrific stuff on its own. Maybe this is a sign that I need to start writing horror. If I could create a discernible plot to go with my dream from Saturday night, it would make a pretty damn good piece of horror fiction.

6. My area is going through a terrible drought; the worst we’ve had in about 16 years. I hate it because it’s ruining crops, and I worry about the environment, but I also hate it on a personal level. I love summer rainstorms, and I love walking barefoot in the grass when it’s all lush and cool and soft—but right now it’s dry and brown and dead and scratches my feet. I’ve been doing rain-summoning spells and I guess they worked a little bit—rain wasn’t in the forecast for today but wind and dark clouds came up out of nowhere about an hour ago. I stood out in the backyard and talked to the sky, and it did rain. It rained hard, but only for about 15 minutes. Better than nothing, and I immediately threw all the windows open because that is another thing I’ve been missing—the smell of rain on dirt, the smell of rain on hot pavement. I’m going to continue with my spells; the more I do them, the more rain they’ll bring.

7. One of the best things about being full vaccinated, and this summer as opposed to last summer, is that, though my allergies and sinus issues are in full effect, I don’t freak out thinking I have CoViD every time I have the slightest tickle in my throat.

8. Last night, I was scrolling through my Instagram feed, and noticed a post from N.—photos of who she was hanging out with. And one of those people was D.S. When I knew N., she lived in Wisconsin. And when I knew D.S., he lived in Austin. Now they’re both in New Orleans. N. was an almost-lover of mine, and D.S. was a lover of mine (and in fact he asked me to move to Austin to be with him, and I did consider it at one point). It just freaked me out, because—I’ve often been accused of holding onto the past, but even when I’ve let it go, I inevitably get reminded of it. This isn’t the first time (not even close) that people I know from completely different times and places encounter each other without my introducing them. Is it that I’ve had too many lovers/almost-lovers and not enough friends, or is it just a small fucking world? Anyway, after I saw that, P. and I were trying to be intimate, and I had a hard time getting into it because I was thinking about N. and S. and— It’s not that I was wishing to be with either one of them, truly. N. and I have become great friends and I no longer have romantic feelings for her; I barely think about D.S. these days, and when I do, it’s only as an amusing anecdote from my misspent youth. It’s just that I felt haunted by, to quote Lynda Hull, that vast hotel, the past. And I recently read 100 Boyfriends by Brontez Purnell, and the whole concept of that book is that, when you’re in a room with a lover, both of you bring all your ghosts with you. Queue the Laura Marling: these are just ghosts that broke my heart before I met you.

[phandabbydosey]

Here I Stand ~ Chapter 7

Artist: @lost-clues ~ art here (slight gore in one picture)

Word count: 19082 (so far) - 2285 this part

Rating: R

Warnings: Graphic description of crude medical procedure (amputation), violence, blood, zombies (and all the stuff that comes with it), one or two uses of ableist slurs (send me an ask if you want to know what they are)

Summary: Zombie AU. Everyone knows that getting bitten is the end, that the only fate is death or reanimation. But Dan is different, Phil can’t just let him go and they agree to a drastic ‘surgery’ to remove Dan’s bitten leg and save his life. However, surviving the procedure is only the beginning and Dan faces numerous obstacles on the rough road to recovery in an extreme and dangerous world.

A/n: Soooo after about two years I’ve decided to try and get back into writing again. Sorry about the cliffhanger left on this fic :D

In other news, I’ve lost contact with my old beta reader so if anyone is interested in helping me out then just get in touch :D (also yeah this isn’t beta-d so if anyone spots any issues just let me know)

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“I can’t believe she fucking sold us out,” Kyle growled, his anger just intensifying as he struggled to light the rusty camp stove they’d found in the back of their current hideout, “I told you she was no good.”

They had multiple little store rooms and safe spots in the area surrounding their original house and had just about managed to get in and secure one before night had fallen. Will had rigged up some quick traps so they should be safe even if a horde scented them out, but being away from the familiar security of the house had put them all on edge.

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t continuously treated her like crap she might have stayed loyal,” Dan snapped back, already in an incredibly grumpy mood after the painful trek over. He’d had to be supported by Phil and Scott the entire way and, although they tried their best, the odd knock or scrape had been unavoidable. Not to mention he’d spent weeks just laying on the sofa so his muscles were sore from all the exertion.

“Oh so you’re saying this is my fault?” Kyle turned to glare daggers at Dan, looking as if he were contemplating walking over and giving him a good thump, “When she’s the one who colluded with Liam and the others to steal everything we’ve worked for. She’s the one-”

“That’s enough, boys!” Scott said sternly, standing over the unlit stove with his arms crossed, “It doesn’t matter whose fault this is. There’s things all of us could have done to prevent this and throwing accusations around won’t help anything. What happened, happened. We can’t change that now so the best thing we can do is focus on where we go from here.”

As sour as Dan’s mood was, he couldn’t argue with Scott and was silently grateful they had the older man in their group with them. His years as a doctor had given him a level head and a logical mind that were invaluable when tensions boiled over in the group.

“Scott’s right,” Will said, his voice coming from behind a wall of boxes at the back of the large room. They hadn’t used this storeroom for a while because their scavenging had been sufficient as of late, so he was busy doing an inventory, “We have a good amount of food in here but it won’t last forever and it’s all long life stuff so I doubt the nutrition is going to be great. We don’t need to rush into finding somewhere new, it’s safe enough here, but I don’t really like the idea of it becoming permanent. I’m sure there’s better places out there.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda spooky here,” Lily murmured, her small body curled up on one of the tatty sofas Scott had dragged out, “There’s loads of spiders too.”

“What?” Dan squeaked, his eyes wide as he pushed himself a little more upright on his sofa and looked around the room.

Just like that, the tension in the room seemed to dissolve as everyone began giggling at Dan’s reaction. He might have been deadly in a fight and a sarcastic bastard, but even after everything he’d been through in the apocalypse, he was still deathly afraid of spiders.

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

“C’mon Scott, I only want to go out for an hour or so and Phil will be with me the entire time,” Dan pleaded, “It’s midday and it’s clear outside, I’ll be fine.”

Dan had been begging for days at this point and he’d thought Scott might have broken by now, but the older man was remaining stubborn in his position. They’d stayed in the storehouse for just over a week until Will, Kyle and Phil managed to find a suitable new home. The new place was great, but not exactly what would be described as suitable for a disabled person. There were a lot of stairs so, even with the pair of crutches Will had managed to cobble together from metal pipes and some other scraps, Dan was pretty much stuck in the main living room.

He and Phil had shared one of the bedrooms upstairs at first, but Dan was still very weak and he’d gotten fed up with having to be carried up to bed every night so now he just slept on the sofa.

He’d thought getting the crutches would be great, but the fact he was still very limited in his movements despite them was making him feel more and more trapped in the stuffy living room. He just wanted to go outside and get some fresh air, but Scott was adamant it was too dangerous.

“No, Dan,” he said firmly, not looking up from his washing up bowl, “You’re still too weak. If something happens then Phil won’t be able to get you back inside and protect you both at the same time. Plus it’ll be an unnecessary strain on your body, you’re meant to be building up strength gradually so you don’t end up injuring yourself more. It’s three floors down and back up again, that’s too much for you right now.”

“But I-”

“Dan, I get that you want to go out, but the risks aren’t worth it. We’ll keep doing your exercises and I’m sure you’ll be strong enough soon. Now I don’t want to hear anything else about it.”

Scott’s tone left no room for arguments so Dan just flopped back down onto the sofa, letting out a slightly over dramatic groan that Scott firmly ignored. Lily saw that he was clearly upset so climbed onto the sofa beside him, cuddling up to his chest and talking to him quietly until he dozed off. He was still building back his strength and the exercises Scott put him through daily really wore him out.

Once she was sure Dan was asleep, Lily carefully climbed out from under his arm and headed to the other room where Phil was sorting through the haul from their last scavenging mission.

“How long do you think it’ll be until Dan will be able to walk around better?” She asked as she plonked down onto the floor beside Phil and started to help organise the food.

“I’m really not sure Lil,” Phil sighed. He’d noticed how disheartened Dan was becoming and it was really starting to concern him, but he didn’t know what he could do to help, “He’s strong and he’s determined, but his body really suffered from the trauma and the infection. I’m sure the stress lately didn’t help, either.”

Lily nodded then was silent for a few minutes, not really focused on organising the various packs and cans. “I think you should take him outside,” she whispered, looking up at Phil with dark eyes that were tragically wise beyond her years, “I know Scott says he shouldn’t, but I think he might go crazy or even...give up if he stays stuck in here much longer. You won’t have to take him out for long and you can get Will or Kyle to go with you so you have some protection. If you go in the middle of the day then there shouldn’t even be any zombies around anyway. I just think it might help give him some hope and remind him of why he needs to get himself better as quickly as he can.”

It was Phil’s turn to be silent now, thinking over Lily’s words. He’d always been one to take Scott’s word as law when it came to medical issues, but he’d been an A&E doctor and not a psychiatrist so perhaps he wasn’t fully considering just how bad Dan’s mental state could be getting. Phil knew that he’d suffered depression in the past and had recognised the signs that it might be creeping back in, that would be the last thing Dan needed when he was meant to be focusing on his recovery.

“Scott and Kyle are going out soon to get some more things from the museum group for Will’s prosthetic,” Lily said, seeing that Phil wasn’t far from agreeing with her, “You and Will could take him out then and Scott’d never even have to know.”

“You know, you’re a cunning little thing aren’t you?” Phil chuckled softly, making Lily smirk and giggle, “Looks like we’re going to have a little undercover mission this afternoon.”

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

“Dan. Daaaaan. Wake up Dan, we’re breaking you out.”

Dan blinked himself awake slowly, mumbling a complaint as he was shaken gently by whoever was speaking to him. His eyes slowly focused on Will’s messy hair and Phil’s bright eyes, both leaning over him where he’d been sprawled out on the sofa.

“What’re you on about?” He grumbled, not happy about having been disturbed from his nap, “What are you breaking me out of?”

“We’re taking you outside buddy, give you a chance to stretch that one leg you have left,” Will grinned. Dan could hear Lily giggling softly from somewhere behind the pair that were still leaning over him.

“Scott’s out at the moment and it’s completely clear outside,” Phil explained when he saw how confused Dan looked about Will’s joke, “I know he said you weren’t allowed out, but we all agreed it’ll do you more harm than good to just wait until your strength is properly back up. Will is going to come to protect us in case something happens, so I’ll be able to support you the whole way if you need it.”

“A-Are you serious?” Dan’s eyes were wide and he shot up into a seated position, looking between his friends as if he didn’t quite believe what he was hearing, “You’re taking me out?”

“Yep,” Phil grinned, happy to be seeing some kind of joy in Dan’s face for the first time in a while, “We can’t stay out long because Scott is right when he says your body is still weak, but I was thinking we could go and sit on the wall out front for a bit so you can get some proper fresh air and just get out of this house for a while.”

“Oh my god, thank you so much!” Dan beamed, throwing his arms around Phil and giving him a tight squeeze. It was clear from his elation at the simple idea of short visit outside how much being stuck in the house was affecting him, confirming for everyone in the room that the risks were more than worth it, “I love you so much.”

“Hey, it was my idea,” Lily piped up, her own face almost splitting in half with her wide grin, “Where’s my love?”

“C’mere then,” Dan giggled, waving the younger girl over to receive a tight hug.

“Right, as cute as this all is,” Will interrupted, his arms crossed though his face also sported a large grin, “We’ve got somewhere to be, so shall we head off?”

It wasn’t easy to get Dan down the multiple flights of stairs in their new home. Will was walking in front, ready to catch Dan if he fell or fight off any trouble that came their way, while Phil supported most of Dan’s weight. He’d initially tried to go down on his own using his crutches, but he’d almost immediately fallen and nearly took both Phil and Will down the whole flight of stairs with him.

By the time they reached the bottom, Dan’s limbs were all trembling a little from the effort and his forehead was covered in a slight sheen of sweat. Phil wondering if maybe this was too much for him after all, but all of his doubts wiped away the moment they stepped outside the front door.

Though he was still a little breathless, the smile on Dan’s face was bright enough to rival the sun. The last time he’d been outside had been when they moved to the new house and, thanks to a run in with a hoard after they’d broken into a building to rest, that hadn’t exactly been an enjoyable experience.

But now they were safe and there were no zombies to be seen, so Dan could truly just enjoy being out in the open air. The sun was hidden behind some clouds but it was still giving Dan a pleasant warmth against his skin, only a slight breeze blowing past and ruffling his curly fringe.

Phil gently guided Dan over to a little wall that bordered the house’s overgrown front garden, helping him sit down comfortably before taking the spot beside him. Will was stood out in the street, keeping an eye out but also giving Dan and Phil some space to enjoy this moment together.

Neither of them said anything for a long while, Phil giving Dan time just to relish in his happiness. At one point Dan leant into Phil’s chest, a soft, contented hum rumbling in his chest. His smile hadn’t dimmed once since they’d stepped outside.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. It was so calm and serene, he didn’t want to disturb that, “I didn’t realise just how much I missed...this. Just being outside and not couped up in that stuffy living room. I know I still can’t do anything more, but it’s making me feel more...free.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Phil murmured back, looking down at Dan fondly, “I’d do anything to help you feel better, God knows you deserve it after these last few months.”

“You really are perfect, you know that?” Dan grinned, tearing his gaze away from the sky to look up into Phil’s face. He leant forward, capturing Phil’s lips in a brief but very sweet kiss, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

[bigbenalpha]

The Haunting of Hilltop House*

This is a looooong post but totally worth your valuable time. So I got one of my besties a haunted doll for Xmas.  I got the idea from the Bizarre States podcast where one of the hosts gave a haunted doll to the other just as a random gift.  If you like paranormal stuff, true crime, cats, poop, strange history, sex, and general hilarity you should give them a listen.  The doll was purchased on eBay so yeah, who knows if theirs was really haunted. Ebay makes the sellers of such items put up disclaimers about haunted items since that isn’t exactly a tangible property that can be legally sold. I thought about just giving my friend a doll without any warning but then decided against that. It seemed a bit shitty to go “Here, it’s a cursed object! Merry Xmas, Kbye. Love you”  so I opted to ask her if she’d actually want such a thing. She was into it so I spent a couple days going over the available dolls and picked out one that seemed active but not malicious, and wasn’t too pricey. Most of the dolls in my price range were fairly normal looking. The creepy ones were either out of my price range or described as evil.  I settled on Owena. Here’s the description provided by the seller, first the headline then the body:

"haunted doll "Owena"  Alarming Porcelain Doll"

"I believe this is the spirit of Owena.  She is a girl from an Island somewhere by Wales.  She talks in a language that I don't understand.  The story I that has been told to me is she drowned in the sea by her house.  She will forever be looking for her family.  The doll was brought to the States by a person that was vacationing in Wales and found this doll in a store.  He felt so moved when he picked up the doll that he purchase it.  He says it was the worst decision he has ever made.  He was forever being woke up in the middle of the night by a horrifying noise that sounded almost animalistic.  When he was home working there was always a tapping noise on the outside door, every time he got up to check on it, nothing was there.  The last time this happened, his porch was covered in water.  He immediately put the doll in a box and took it our mutual friend.  She has asked me to sell it and be rid of it. 

The doll itself is 15" tall, wearing a beautiful plaid, what and lace dress, with matching hat, white bloomers, white socks and shoes.  Brown-reddish hair with brown eyes. The doll it a part of the Danea Collection Porcelain."

There were pictures as well but I took some of my own that’ll post a little ways down. I placed the order and waited impatiently. The doll arrived a bit sooner than the initial order tracking said it would. Maybe that was good sign it was really haunted and they popped for express shipping to get rid of it faster. It showed up on Nov. 29th as I was headed out the door to work so I was gonna have to wait until later to open the box. I sent my friend a pic of the box and her excitement was high, too.

As the evening went on at work I got a little apprehensive about opening the box. Not so much because I was afraid of a ghost but, if it was actually haunted I was worried that it might imprint on me like a baby raptor and then when i handed the doll over it wouldn’t do anything spooky for my friend.  When I got home I decided to open the box if only to make sure the doll wasn’t broken and was actually the one I ordered. I carefully sliced the tape and saw that the doll was wrapped in plain brown paper like an unnatural burrito Julie Andrews might sing about if she worshiped the devil.  I gently slid the doll out onto my arm like how you cradle a puppy and took off the paper.  She’s a very pretty doll.  As I handled her I never felt any weird energy from her like that guy did who originally bought her.

I made some small talk, asked how her trip was, that sort of thing. I told her that I was planning to give her to my friend as a gift for Xmas so she wouldn’t be staying with me for very long. I promised her that I wouldn’t put her back in the box.  I laid her on my bed and went about my usual routine of watching a few shows, net surfing and playing games until it was time for bed. Then things got interesting.

I sat her on my desk chair and got in bed. I ended up having a bit of insomnia, partly because I was on high alert for any spooky happenings but also just because it was one of those nights.  Every once in a while there would be a sound I didn’t recognize as one of the usual night noises in my house. I couldn’t pinpoint what exactly they sounded like or where they were coming from but I didn’t get any chills or spooOOooky feeling from them. I eventually drifted of into a twilight sorta dozing. I was starting to dream but still aware of how i was laying, the temperature of the room and that my leg needed to stretch. So I stretched and gave my leg a shake for good measure. And kept shaking. And kept shaking. And wait that’s not me!  I was laying diagonally in the bed and the corner of the mattress where my feet were was shaking violently.  It was also the corner of the bed closest to Owena. I sat up and it stopped. It wasn’t like how you jolt yourself awake as you doze off. It was a definite physical feeling of the mattress being moved under me. I stayed awake for a little while longer until I finally fell all the way asleep.  When I woke up Owena was in the same spot where I left her. I said good morning (afternoon), made some more small talk and left for work.  

That night at bedtime I politely asked her not to do anything spooOOooky since I had a doc appointment early the next morning. She complied and I managed to get a good night’s rest. When I got home from the doc I was walking through the living room and I heard a weird little girl’s voice say “hello!” I was like FUCK! SHIT! She’s coming for me!!!  Then she asked if I could say red and started singing the ABCs. It was a motion activated toy in my baby great-niece’s playpen. Once my sphincter unclenched I had a pretty good laugh. I told Owena what happened but I’m thinking she already knew. I had a little nap before work but nothing odd happened. But every night after that for the next week was exactly like the first night- one or two odd noises then getting shaken as soon as I dozed off. Most of them were definitely Dream Ben getting shaken but once it was definitely my pillow being shaken for real. After the first week the shakings stopped but the noises shifted into recognizable sounds, specifically rustling fabric and sighs. And they happened while I was wide awake at my desk with the lights on. The final time the noises happened was fairly intense. My seven year old great-nephew likes to play sneaky ninja sometimes and crawl into my room while I’m at my desk. He’ll get behind my bed then get under the covers and try to get all the way behind me without me seeing him. He’s actually been getting better at it but still never manages to get the drop on me. That night it seemed like he succeeded. I heard all the usual noises he makes- his attempts to hold his breath, the sound of his knees on the carpet, the covers moving around as he tries to hide under them. I was like, damn, he’s getting pretty good. I turned around and the only thing on the bed was Owena. Right were I left her, fortunately. After that she got kind of dormant (not really, she was going in hard on my sister but more on that in a bit.). I thought maybe she was enjoying my company and the shows I was watching so she didn’t feel like getting up to spooOOooky shit. I was treating her to Critical Role, AcqInc C Team, Star Trek Discovery and hard-core binging Bizarre States to get caught up so that all seemed reasonable. I quit making small talk to see if that would get her going but still nothing. Finally it was getting close to the day for the gift exchange and I said to her “you need to be doing something to prove I didn’t wast my money on you. I love my friend and she’s very excited to be receiving you so you need to step up and make this an Xmas to remember.” For the rest of the week the dream shakes returned like clockwork every time I dozed off. 

Two days before the hand-off I asked my sister if anything weird had been happening in the house. She just looked at me for a minute then,  “Yes. What have you done?” I brought Owena to her and told her what the deal was. I deliberately didn’t say anything sooner to make sure my sister wasn’t actively looking for anything weird to happen. We’ve had a long history of paranormal things happen in our house so best to not put ideas in her head. This post is super long so I’ll just list some bullet points of shit she experienced.

She felt cold and creepy when she held the doll

There were random cold spots and zones of dread floating around her room.

Her mattress frequently felt like it was breathing but I never told her about my shaking experiences until after she said that.

She thought she heard my great-nephew (her grandson) come up behind her and whisper GRANDMA in her ear only to learn he was in the other end of the house.

Her handheld mirror flew off its hook and into the middle of her floor. The hook flew across the room.  The mirror didn’t fall straight down like if the hook was loose.  It went several feet out from the wall.

The day came for the exchange and I met my friend for breakfast. Two friends actually- Michelle, the recipient, and Renau (pronounced Renee), an adventure pal. I also gave Michelle a white sage smudge stick and a small bag of gemstones for in case things got crazy. In a cool coincidence Michelle also gave me a bunch of crystals and minerals.  We went by the store where I work and tried to make an EVP with Owena. I asked a few questions, then Michelle. Nothing turned up. Renau took a little movie of us while we talked. No odd images appeared. At one point the light seemed to flicker on camera but it definitely didn’t do it in the store. It might have just been an auto lighting thing with her phone but it happened at an odd time. I will try to include those in this post but Tumblr was acting weird when I tried to add pics so I might have to do it in stages.  Worst case scenario maybe I’ll put them on Dropbox and add links here. Also, once the doll was gone from my house all the weird stuff stopped happening to my sister... well, things just went back to the normal weirdness let’s say.

So I go to work and Michelle and Renau head back to their homes.  That evening Michelle and I both experienced a shake - her with a nap, me at bedtime.  I instantly knew it was because I forgot to say goodbye to Owena. Michelle has also heard a few random noises that aren’t typical for her house. She’s also been feeling slight breezes on her hair and face in places where there aren’t any, like in her car. It’s cold here now so no open windows. Her cats have acted slightly out of their normal routines but not full-on freaked out or anything.  Michelle has been doing a few experiments to see if she can get any more information from Owena but nothing concrete that matches the eBay description.  And if the eBay description is to be believed, and Owena is looking for her family then she might have been somewhat appeased by my and Michelle's houses. Mine is waaay too full of family and Michelle’s kids and in-laws are in and out frequently.  I hope she continues to be active but doesn’t do anything malicious. Of course I’ll post updates if anything truly outrageous occurs.

* The little rural suburb type area where I live is called Hilltop. Seemed like too good of a pun to pass up.

[clarenecessities]

5/1/17

son i have just had the most delightful day of my got damn life. i know a daily clare post where i’m not just complaining about my life in unnecessary detail is unusual but honestly i just had a swell time

we had language class this morning & admittedly i did ask way too many questions and tell a girl she was pretty bc i have no filter when i’m tired (she is pretty, it was just a weird time to say it)  but i learned a whole bunch! sean has been good with like, maidin mhaith and such but most of it is in one ear and out the other (except conjugation, which is blessedly simple) but we have a new teacher up from teelin & she has us repeat stuff like, excessively. it’s actually pretty reassuring. icr what she was having us chant but at one point we were just going in like gregorian style.

only complaint about anna (the new teacher) is that her accent is different from sean’s so she says ‘dh’ as a [Ghy] instead of a [dJ] so simple shit like “god” and “second” is absolutely fucked. i’m hoping she’ll give us some leeway bc i learned from the Horslips if we’re being quite honest. she’s really adorable though--she taught us how to say we were tired (thank god; a sentence i can use) and she was like miming falling asleep. Ta.. tuirseach oram, i think? she didn’t spell it for us but sean said she’ll teach me on wednesday how to spell everything so i’m flying blind for a while.

we went up the cliffs to look at the napoleon-watch tower--it was pretty chill but the journey nearly killed me. between classes i went up to the store & got some deodorant and a popsicle-thing (it sucked, it was like unsweetened frozen orange juice) and the deodorant here is weird it’s all either spray on or roll-on liquid, so it feels like you’ve just put mosquito repellent on your armpits lmao. anyway yeah it was about four miles but it was a little too steep for a malnourished cripple such as myself to tackle on pepsi & popsicle alone. only fell once though, and saw a load of sheep. the girl who i inadvertently complimented taught me about flowers (i asked the name for harebell because i’d forgotten it, and then i was like “hey what’s this one! what’s this one) which made me feel better bc i’d been a bit worried i’d made her uncomfortable. she was singing a song from the last unicorn at one point & we ended up gushing about that for a bit.

up at the top, when we got to the tower, a small parade of our classmates attempted to scale the side & get up to the door (about ten feet) while our guide was distracted--he hadn’t told us not to do it, he just went back for stragglers and didn’t see. we were all sort of standing around speculating & saying it looked like reasonable holds but nobody really wanted to try after the hike, except, cue hunter, the oft-pseudo-offensive manchild i grow less fond of every day (yesterday he was saying sauron was the good guy & like while it was clearly to ‘troll’ people he was also saying some straight up fascist shit in his too-well-assembled arguments). anyway hunter got up onto the pile of rocks, reached the handholds, and immediately surrendered, saying he’d do it the day he could do two chinups. next up was ben, who was volunteered by a few of us because he’s tall and relatively strong--he also got his hands in the holds, but retired immediately on the basis of being too lazy to actually haul himself up. third was chris, who (if you ask me) saw it as a sort of challenge and just went through the effort to show off, which was what hunter was trying to do but couldn’t back up. frankly i’d have been more impressed if i wasn’t a bit leery of chris--he’s not said anything bad to me, he just has a very condescending vibe that i find Incredibly Irritating.

hmm but then we looked out over the cliffs, and our guide told us a story about a sea stack called “the devil’s dick” and we found our way back down about an hour after it was supposed to have taken. idt he was counting on so many of us being so slow, but he had about five of us lagging for various immutable reasons.

class was supposed to start up again at 7 but we’d only gotten down the mountain at about 6, so i decided to forgo the half hour line for the chipper & grab something from the shop (ultimately some pound cake, bc i’m so healthy). outside the shop, who should turn up, but the black cat i’ve been trying to impress for three days!! she was waiting outside the cafe for food (despite having already been fed) so she didn’t run away, but she wouldn’t let me pet her until ashley--one of the workers i met yesterday--came out to smoke, and sort of.. cat-vouched for me? the cat was wary but she clicked to it, and since she’s the one feeding it i think it trusts her opinion heheh. she advised me not to pet it since it was probably covered in fleas but i was like God Himself cannot stop me from petting this cat.

it was wonderful, she just laid down and rusted in the sun, and she looked so happy and peaceful. i hope this means she’ll let me pet her in the future bc i think i love her

she went off back to the shop after a while, so i headed back down the road for class & ran into kelly and matt waiting for their chipper food, and they were like “hey come hang” which i was thrilled to accept. kelly may be the only one who understands how incredible the cat situation was heheh. we decided to call her heather--kelly had been considering matilda but she’s saving that for her own black cat. chris came out the pub & joined us around then, and he and kelly have this sort of pseudo-aggressive banter going where like they’re both clearly not crazy about each other but neither is offended so much as annoyed, and they play it off like a comedic rivalry. it’s actually an interesting dynamic lmao--it’s like the ways that people cope with each other & the things we’ll do automatically you know? interesting.

ben and adrionna came up around then, i think they’d been in the pub too, and they were sweet as always. adrionna and i talked some more about the last unicorn, but were sidetracked by the arrival of: another cat. This one’s a tuxedo tom with crusty eyes and dandruff but he’s so sweet, he’s so good. he was clearly angling to get some of kelly and matt’s fish and chips, but i didn’t mind. we didn’t name him bc we weren’t sure if he was the one named tinkerbell or if it was the other black and white cat, who lives up by our cottages. 

we had to head back down bc class was supposed to start at seven, only come to find out it was seven thirty now, so we just sat out front and waited. the black and white cat who may or may not be named tinkerbell made a brief appearance, but took off down a sheep field before i could approach her. on the way down kelly and i went over our beeves w people, which is probably the oldest and fastest bonding method known to man--we agree on people for the most part, which isn’t too surprising given our mutual affinities for cats & communism

while we were sitting out front we were blessed by a visit from--get this--a fourth cat. at first i thought it was heather bc it’s also black with green eyes, but as it got nearer it was clearer it wasn’t. he’s a tom, older, bigger than her, with a square jaw and less rust in his coat but much more in his purr. we decided to call him gorse to keep up the theme. there’s some speculation that he’s heather’s father, as she’s still quite young, but i expect we’ll find out. if the crusty-eyed potential-tinkerbell isn’t in fact a tom, they may be the mother, and then heather and smaller-potential-tinkerbell would make good sense as their offspring. a black and white cat and a black cat birthing a black and white kitten and a black kitten? almost poetic, in a way.

evening class was awesome, not the least of which because i’d gotten to pet three cats by that point. we had a professor out from galway who’s co-writing a book with sean about joe heaney, and he’s an o’leary himself (well; an o laoire) so i kept joking he was my grandson (sean was the only one who laughed but it may have been pity). he talked for a long while about folklore and living traditions, and bealoideas and etymology and poetry--he recited the Planter’s Daughter, which i’d never heard before--it’s really good tbh. he also said at one point that folklore was sort of viewed as the domain of “slightly deranged maiden aunts” & i was like finally, a calling for me!

we learned the first few stanzas of a song--it was really nice because he took us through the lyrics talking first, instead of jumping right to singing like sean (yes we learn it faster, but we learn it wrong bc we don’t know what we’re saying). as i was looking over the lyrics i realized ONE of the words looked FAMILIAR--a gconra chlair. i was like hey,,,,, that can’t mean what i think it means can it, so i flipped it over and the translation was “coffin”.

heheh so i asked him about it and i was, in fact, right--it’s a coffin of boards. a wooden coffin, really, a poetic device, but there it is, folks--the etymological origin of my name put to practical use!

my first time seeing it in a sentence and it’s about a coffin. what’s better than that honestly

he also told me there’s a different pronunciation of “gconra” down in Cork (i had mentioned my people were from Cork (he laughed and said mine too--i told him they were the same people but tbqh i don’t think he heard me)), so whereas in Galway they’d say it like “groan-rah” in Cork it’d be “G-cone-ah”

so of course, me being the tremendous nerd i am, i asked him about cnudanai, which i happened o have written on the back of my notebook (see: tremendous nerd) and he taught me the cork pronunciation as a counter to sean’s donegal/connemara blend of “croo-dah-nai”. in Cork it’s “c‘noe-daw-nai” like the word canoe’s been truncated. good shit grandson. good shit.

mm and aftter that i just came on back up to the house! we got off at 9:30 so i’ve been slacking off since then tbh. i got a bit of planning done on the hike for my spooky fic, but i’ve not written it down yet. got weirdly sidetracked by fanart of inuyasha’s parents haha

but now it’s 1 am here so i’m out. pray for my muscles to heal miraculously in the night, please

[theletterunread]

Reflexes

This story follows Spooky and Execute.

All the way down Park Avenue, the sidewalks were empty and the shops were locked up. I assumed (correctly, I later learned) that there had been a police directive to get everyone off any streets above a subway line, in case of another attack. In the absence of any people or cars to look at or listen to, my sense of smell heightened, and I was hit by the disgusting aroma of Manhattan that greets all newcomers before they acclimate. Crossing the street to avoid a pile of garbage, I walked right through a waft of sour milk and dishwater.

Staggering back and forth, and eventually walking straight down the middle of the street, I suppose I cut a suspicious character, and a few faces peered out at me from within the buildings I passed. Nobody would let me in. I tried making the universal “phone gesture” with my thumb and pinky, but it didn’t get me anywhere. At 23rd street, a very tall woman on the other side of the street stuck her head out her door and yelled to me.

“What are you doing here?”

From the tone of her voice, I could tell that she was one of those people who lived in fear and liked it. A day like this was right up her alley. I tried to be as non-threatening as possible, but had little illusions about my chances. “I’m just looking for a phone I can use.”

She gave me the crook-eye. “This is a strange place to be looking for a phone.”

I took no satisfaction from being right, just moved on. “Have a nice day.”

This alarmed her as much as anything. She slammed the door, and I had a feeling she was going to call the police or Homeland Security or whomever and ID me as a suspect. I made a sudden left on 23rd and a right on Third Avenue to put some distance between us.

The sidewalks were just as empty here, but south one block I saw a pet shop with an open door. Inside I could hear voices, and when I rang the bell at the front desk, two women came out from some narrow aisle. They looked flushed and rattled, like I’d interrupted an intimate moment, and the conversation they were having was clearly improvised to suggest nonchalance.

“Take this compressed air,” said the store’s proprietress, handing a can to her customer, “and when your cat jumps up where he’s not supposed to be, blast him with this.”

“Yes,” said the customer, woodenly. “I will.”

“But you also need to give him positive affirmation when he does something right. If he brings you a dead mouse, you might think ‘gross’, but think about what he’s saying to you. He’s saying, ‘Stephanie, recognize me! I am cat!’ And he wants to share that with you. And if you react with ‘gross’, how will he feel?”

“Hmmm. Yeah, wow.”

“I am CAT!” The proprietress threw her arms up when she yelled this time, and I was starting to wish I’d found another shop. She turned to me. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, may I use your phone?”

“I know you,” interrupted Stephanie. “Where do I know you from?”

I looked at her closer and realized she was the army girl with the big eyes and bloodlust whom I’d talked to during my F train delay at the start of the day. I explained this to her, expecting a little delight at the coincidence, but she just said, “Oh,” and turned away.

“Who are you calling?” the proprietress asked me.

“My own cell. It’s lost. I want to see who picks it up.” I didn’t add that I was hoping it would be picked up by a little girl who I feared had been kidnapped along with a pop star. I didn’t feel like inviting questions.

She took a phone out from under the counter and pushed it over to me. As I dialed, they resumed their fake conversation.

“So, Anastasia…how do you know so much about cats?” asked Stephanie.

“I’ve always had a connection to animals. My family has a story…before I moved to the city, I lived, like, out in rural North Carolina, and I went deep into the woods one day, and my mom couldn’t find me. She got the whole family together to search and they found me playing with wolf cubs.”

I put my finger in my free ear, and pressed the receiver tighter to my other. I could still barely hear over this story, but it didn’t matter since nobody was picking up on the other end.

“And everyone was all scared, because it looked like they were attacking me, but they were just playing, like they would with any other cub. And I looked at my family like, ‘What’s everyone worried about?’”

I hung up the phone. Stephanie was shaking her head in awe. “That’s an amazing story.”

“I know. Everyone’s always all astounded by Timothy Treadwell, but I’m like, ‘I was doing that when I was six.’”

“Who’s Timothy Treadwell?” asked Stephanie.

“You don’t know who Timothy Treadwell is?” gasped Anastasia. “Oh my god, are you serious? I can’t believe that!”

I hate that conversational convention – the fake astonishment at a gap in somebody’s knowledge, the condescension disguised as uncontrollable surprise – and make a point to interrupt it whenever I see it in action. “Timothy Treadwell,” I explained to Stephanie, “was a guy who spent several summers living with grizzly bears in Alaska. He felt that he had a relationship with them, a bond. Until one day when a grizzly just up and ate him and his girlfriend.”

“Oh, that’s sick!” exclaimed Stephanie.

“No, it isn’t!” said Anastasia, and flashed me an angry look. “They must have done something to make the bear feel in danger. Humans are always doing that. They probably hit the bear with a rake.”

“I don’t know if that happened,” I said, “but I agree it’s not ‘sick’. It’s just what happens. These are wild animals, he didn’t really have a relationship with them. Eventually nature asserted itself.”

“You don’t think humans and animals can be partners?”

If it seems improbable to you that I kept finding myself, everywhere I went, in philosophical debates, I can only wave my hand apologetically and assure you that I’m reporting my day exactly as it went. “I think we can have relationships with animals. But there’s always going to be some level of division. And I think it was delusional of Treadwell to think he could have a safe relationship with grizzly bears.”

“Well, people are always getting into and staying in human relationships that are bad for them. How is that any different?”

I was about to say that I thought that she’d made a good point, though not one that contradicted my position, when Stephanie’s phone chimed. “Oh! That must be…my boyfriend,” she said, again clearly improvising. “He probably wants to know what…cat stuff I’m getting.”

“Yes, well, let’s finish your shopping,” said Anastasia, leading her away again.

They were going to some lengths to keep me in the dark, which seemed pointless, as I didn’t care what they were up to, but if they wanted to play secret agent, I wasn’t going to bother them. I picked up the phone and dialed my cell again. The phone rang and rang and nobody picked up. But this time, without a loud conversation in my other ear, I was able to hear a buzzing coming from somewhere in the store in time with the ringing phone. I hung up, dialed again, and left the receiver on the counter as I followed the buzzing.

The store was bigger than it look on the outside, and one aisle looked more like a zoo than a pet store: a panther paced in one cage, and about 30 jellyfish blurbled around in a huge tank. The only empty cage was the one whose sign read, “Homer Chimpson.” I followed the buzzing to an alcove stacked high with dog food. Behind a layer of cans was an animal carrier covered with a blanket and bearing a sign reading “Beware of Dog!”

I yanked off the blanket and saw behind the carrier’s door my buzzing cell phone and a human being with her hands tied behind her back. She had a canvas bag over her head, but I recognized the miniskirt. It was Emma Fay.

“Step back from there,” came Anastasia’s voice behind me, and without giving me any time to accept the order, she pressed something cold and weighty into my back. I understood immediately, from a lifetime immersed in American culture, that it was a gun. And while I would like to tell you that my dominant emotion was impatience with the implausibility of somebody actually pulling a gun on me, I was mostly just scared. I already knew how little this woman valued human life.

Once, 15 years before, I came as close to death. I was part of a group of girls making lip-sync videos in and around our high school. We called ourselves The Agitated Muffins, after an Oscar Wilde line we’d all read and convinced ourselves was hilarious in that way that affected nerds do. We weren’t very terrific or anything, but we managed to keep up the output, and by our fifth video, I had developed a reputation as the stunt woman. (It started when I was the only one willing to drop from the courtyard balcony and be caught by the four girls who were going to take over the next verse of “Don’t Cha” from me.) For this video, I was to jump onto the back of a car and sing my stanza as the driver sped down the avenue. I secured myself by holding onto the car’s antennae. In my other hand, I was carrying the camcorder.

We rehearsed once or twice in the early morning when there were no cars on the road, but by the time we got to filming, traffic had picked up. What the other drivers thought when they saw a car pull in front of them carrying a 17-year-old on the back, I don’t know, but they weren’t alarmed enough to give us much space. So when the antennae snapped and I slid off the trunk and onto the asphalt, I only had about eight seconds before the oncoming Volvo would squish me under its front wheels.

There was no time to stand up – and it wouldn’t have done any good, since I would have still been in the path of the car – so I raised up on my butt in a half Navasana pose (if that helps you visualize) and kicked off against the camcorder which had handily landed near my feet. The slight recoil spun me around 90 degrees, leaving me parallel to the car’s direction. I flattened myself and the Volvo passed over me, the wheels not more than six inches to one side.

The other singers and I took a break to calm down and conceive of a less fraught alternate scene to put where my stunt would have been. The day’s mood was shot, but we resumed filming that afternoon, at my behest. I think now that I was afraid that if we stopped working, I would have to face what happened, and that would make me too scared to every try…not just performing, but too scared to try anything again.

(In the end, I didn’t do much more performing in my life. While filming the video after next, I overheard the rest of The Agitated Muffins making fun of me behind my back: “She never stops talking,” “Why does she do that hair thing every time she finishes a line? She has to stop.” Just usual teenage stuff, I suppose, and reading it, maybe you can’t see why it upset me. But feelings are the one thing in this world you must respect absolutely. I left the troupe and never participated in another video. But maybe I’ll wind up in another movie after all: I’ve had meetings with three separate studios interested in optioning my story – yes, before this book is even done. However little artistic integrity you imagine there is in Hollywood, you’re being too generous.)

The memory stayed buried for a long time, for just that reason: I didn’t want to seize up with fear from the past and miss the present. But when I felt the gun in my back, my brain, rapidly scanning for any pertinent experience, dredged up the whole story. And sure enough, I did seize up and miss the present. There’s a blank spot in my memory until Anastasia frogmarched me into the basement, Stephanie hoisting and struggling the animal carrier down behind us.

Half of the cellar was full of pet shop supplies, half full of firearms and explosives. There were small, cartoonish bombs that I recognized from Maxine’s destruction of Van’s studio. Anastasia led me into a corner, took my bag, and began riffling through it. “How do you know her?” she asked Stephanie once she’d made her way down.

“She was on the train this morning.”

“And she lived?”

“I guess.”

“What is she doing here? Were you followed?” She stopped short on pulling the Anne Wysie book from my bag, and went totally silent when she found the model of Bran’s Castle. She gawked. Stephanie came over and gawked too. “Why does she have this?”

“I got it from the artist’s studio,” I explained, thinking I could contribute something to the process. But Anastasia just shushed me with a wave of her gun.

“I don’t like this,” said Anastasia. “I don’t think she should be here. She was on the train, she’s got the model, Fay was carrying her phone…she’s working for someone, and she shouldn’t be here.”

“But maybe she’s on our side,” suggested Stephanie. “And if we kill her…”

Anastasia nodded and lowered her weapon. “We’ll keep her here while we take Hutton to The Gardener.” She grabbed a length of rope from one shelf and bound my hands behind my back.

“Who are you? What’s going to happen?” I pleaded. “Don’t do this! Why are you doing this to me?”

“From now on, no questions.” Stephanie put a canvas bag over my head, and turned to Stephanie. “You bring the car around. I’ll call The Gardener and tell her to expect us.”

As soon as they were up the stairs and I heard the door’s lock click, I slipped my hands out of the ropes. When I was kid, I read a chapter book whose title eludes me where a scientist-adventurer’s daughter escapes from being tied to a stake, and I still remembered her technique. Since my experience shows that it is actually worth it for the average, non-adventuring person to know how to escape from bondage, I’m happy to pass along the technique: while you’re being tied up, subtly flex your muscles and strain against the rope. (Asking your captor inane, terrified questions while they tie you up, to distract them from what you’re doing, was my personal addition to the strategy.) That way, when you relax, the rope will not be tight against you, and you will have room to wiggle out.

I pulled the bag off my head and released Emma from her cage. She gagged at the sight of me.

“You again?” she asked, unappreciatively.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, no thanks to you. They put me in a box!”

“You think I got you kidnapped? Forget it, forget it,” I interrupted myself. Accuracy wasn’t important. “Where’s Fia?”

“Who?”

“The…the other person who was there! The little girl!”

“She was with me in van, and then they brought me in here and drove off with her…”

“To where?”

“I don’t know…to…the garden, they said.” There was no way that continuing to talk to Emma would be more informative than ignoring her and devising a new plan. I picked up one of the bombs from a shelf and tossed it between my hands while I paced. If Emma backed me up, I stood a chance of physically overpowering them. But the possibility of failure, or even of the gun going off accidentally was too catastrophic. Crawling back into my ropes and playing docile and cooperative might save me, but it wouldn’t save Emma. Without my intervention, Anastasia and Stephanie and whoever The Gardener was would kill her, and there was no way I could abdicate that responsibility. This was the opportunity that had been forced upon me, and I couldn’t morally refuse it.

It only made sense to crawl deeper into the lion’s mouth.

“Are they going to kill us?” Emma asked.

“Us? No.” I put the bomb in my bag and pulled out a sweater. “But here’s how you can get out. Let’s switch clothes. I’ll take your place.”

She looked me up and down. “Will they fit?”

“Yeah, we can…if you’re worried, you can stuff this sweater under your shirt.” I looked around the basement. “And this bag of catnip. In the dark that’ll be enough to look like you’re pregnant.”

She nodded and we quickly exchanged outfits. I think that this moment is what pushed my celebrity over the edge. My actions later that night were such that I’d have been hailed a hero no matter what I was wearing, but to uncover a conspiracy and stop a murder while wearing a Roy Lichtenstein mini was an irresistible visual image for the news and social media.

I tied Emma up, put sacks over both of our heads, and climbed into the dog carrier with my bag. A few minutes passed before Stephanie and Anastasia returned, which Emma filled by mumble-singing one of her hits. My thoughts, meanwhile, went to trying, for the first time, to be ahead of what would happen next. All day, I had been given a glance at a second New York operating below the surface of my city. I wasn’t so egotistical to think that it was anything but chance that put me in this position, but then, that’s a false metric. It’s never anything but chance that guides any of life. Where meaning comes in is in our ability to seize the momentum of chance when it passes our way. The train accident, the celebrity encounters, the secret passages, the unexpectedly dead, the unexpectedly alive, the wild animals…there was a pattern somewhere, but there was a lot of noise as well, a lot of flourishes that belonged to another story.

There was something important humming underneath the surface of this line of thinking, so I kept my focus upon it, even when our captors came back down, warned “me” to stay in the basement and not even think of escaping, and hauled my carrier up the stairs and into the back of a van. We drove for not more than five minutes before they stopped and hauled me out again. In fact, the elevator ride to the top of the new building was nearly as long as the car ride. It was an old, slow machine (through the pores of the bag on my head, I could see that we were on a freight elevator – the kind with those huge horizontal doors that you have to use a rope to slam shut) so I figured we didn’t go more than four or five stories.

At the top floor, Anastasia hauled me out of the carrier, while Stephanie breathlessly announced me. “Gardener, we’ve got Hutton.”

“You don’t have to use a code name,” was the reply. “I know who she is. She knows who she is. Why does she have a bag on her head?”

“So she wouldn’t know where she was.”

“Who cares if she knows? She’s about to die. Something like this just draws attention.”

This person whipped the sack off my head, and as my eyes adjusted, I saw that we were in an attic full of moving boxes. The scene set, my eyes began to focus on the person who’d unveiled me. I was face to face with Molly Petalmeadows. “You?” I asked reflexively.

“Me? How about you?” she shot back. “Who is this? Where’s Emma Fay?” Molly asked her lackeys.

“She was in the cage at the pet store,” gaped Anastasia. “This stupid bitch must have switched places.”

“What do you mean, stupid?” I asked. “I legitimately fooled you.”

Molly reached below her hem and pulled a small pistol out of an ankle holster. She pointed it at me, but kind of lazily. Her attention was more on the other two. “Why is she here?”

“She came into the store…” mumbled Stephanie. “We were hoping you might know…”

“I’m not here for any reason,” I explained. “I went in to use the phone, and found Emma in a cage. I don’t care about your…” I caught the word “murder” in my mouth. “Your conspiracy. I’m just looking for a little girl.”

There were tons of holes in this explanation, and I shouldn’t have been surprised that Molly picked it apart quickly. “Why would we know where your daughter is?” I didn’t answer. “She was the one… you two were there when we kidnapped Emma, weren’t you?”

“Uh…yes.” I conceded.

“You think I don’t see what’s going on? Everywhere you go, Emma Fay appears. Every time Emma Fay’s in danger, you turn up. And we’re supposed to believe you’re not involved?”

“You don’t have to believe anything,” I said, an old line that helps you get the upper hand in any argument. “I’m telling you how it is. I came to the pet store to use the phone to reach Fia.”

“And the doctor’s office? Why were you there?”

“I didn’t even want to be there! I was there because Dr. Shimin wasn’t in his office.”

“Right. Of everyone in the city, you just happened to go to that doctor. And as soon as we disappear him, you just happened to turn up.”

“You disappeared him?” I couldn’t believe I was using that sense of “disappear”. “Why?”

Now, of course, life isn’t like a movie, where you can get the villains speechifying and explaining everything. Nobody answered the question, since they thought I knew all this already and was just playing with them. I found out later that it was because Dr. Shimin knew that their leader was pregnant, and had suggested he might sell the news. And this gang believed that you couldn’t take over the world and be a mother. Well. I wonder what they think when they see where I wound up.

Anyway, as I say, they didn’t answer at the time. All that happened was Molly stepping a little closer with her gun.

“Okay, I guess I don’t care. But I’m telling you, these are coincidences, all,” I protested, with dripping impatience, but I was starting to get a little scared. Obviously, you know I’m going to survive, but in the moment, I genuinely wasn’t sure I would. A gang that wouldn’t hesitate to commit assassination or terrorist attacks wasn’t going to have compunction about killing me.

“Why don’t you stop jerking me around?” asked Molly. “What does Emma know?”

As proclaiming my innocence had only got me closer to a bullet in the brain, I decided to push back with a bluff, one rooted in a theory that had been brewing from the moment I recognized Stephanie. “She knows you blew up the F train.”

The women fell back a step, validating my guess. “How does she know?”

“I told her.”

Stephanie stomped the ground. “Fuck! You were on the train right before it got to the tunnel!”

“That’s right,” I said, stalling for time. “That’s right. I was there and…” At last, two pieces fit together. “You let the chimp loose on the tracks, diverting the train up to Penn Station. Where you’d planted the bomb.”

“Shit…” said Molly, lowering her gun fractionally. “Does she know about The Strand?”

“We all know about The Strand,” I said, bluffing with more confidence this time.

“It’s not what Root Beer wants,” said Anastasia, with a hand on Molly shoulder, “but we could just go back to the shop and kill Hutton now. It would still get it done.”

“Again,” said Molly, “you don’t have to use the code names. We all know who we’re talking about.” Of course, at that point, I didn’t know who Root Beer was. Even once I knew who it was, I didn’t understand the name’s meaning until it was explained in one of the New York Times articles detailing the conspiracy. I could tell you I figured it out myself, but I don’t need to exaggerate my accomplishments.

“Fine then,” sighed Anastasia, “let’s go back to the shop and kill Emma now.”

“And this one?” Molly inclined her head towards me. “Should we…”

“I don’t see why not,” said Stephanie. “Whoever she is, she knows too much.”

Molly cocked the hammer and pointed the gun at my head. I could tell you that in the moment that I faced death point-blank, I conceived of a great plan, but the truth is, I had thought of this minutes earlier.

I cringed away from the barrel of the gun. “Can’t I have one last request?”

“This isn’t death row,” said Molly.

“It’s nothing complicated,” I said. “I just want one last cigarette.”

“Aren’t you pregnant?” asked Anastasia.

“That hardly seems relevant now, does it?” I kneeled down and reached into the animal carrier for my bag. “Do any of you have a lighter?”

Anastasia handed me one and, still kneeling down, I used it to light the fuse on the bomb I’d swiped from the pet store basement and stashed in my bag. I stood up, chucked it at the women and took a flying leap towards the nearest window. The force of the explosion pushed me through the glass and I started falling.

Just as I had estimated, we were four stories up. It was a grander stunt than I’d ever done, but the techniques are the same whether you’re dropping ten feet or 40. I knew I’d land safely. “I am cat!” I thought to myself and laughed for, I think, the first time all day.

[almaasi]

reaction post typed while watching SPN 12x13 “Family Feud”

contains personal chit-chat, a selfie, and a photo of one of our iridescent chickens, because i kept getting distracted (potentially because this episode wasn’t particularly enthralling)

also, flawed time travel logic

05:18pm

i saw a promo on instagram but the sound wasn’t working, so apart from knowing crowley and rowena are in this, and shout a lot, i got no clue what’s going on. but this one’s written by the deadly duo sooooooooooo :/

also a new director named p.j. pesce. hi there, please kindly make the deadly duo’s script less offensive with good directing, thank you

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05:20

man i hope cas is in this. but in a nice uplifting way not a bullshit frustrating no homo way

/sips tea

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05:24

i’m so unaffected by these scare tactics

idk if it’s because i’ve watched twelve seasons of this show but i kind of zone out when the violins start shrieking

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05:36

(people just arrived at the house, social!Elmie emerged for 2 minutes, i cleaned the bathroom, changed the towels, and greeted everyone and NOW I’M BACK AND EVEN MORE EXHAUSTED)

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05:39

(and then i took two (NOW THREE) phone calls from my dad going like “i’m in the store and they don’t have the pasta that’s the only kind of pasta you eat, but they have this other pasta that has a thing in it you’re allergic to listed in the ingredients, do you want that?”

me: *emphatic NO*

I HATE BEING THE ONLY ONE HOME)

(AND I HAVE TO WASH MY HANDS EVERY TIME I ANSWER THE PHONE SO I’M KIND OF DIZZY FROM GETTING UP NOW)

(I PAINTED A WHOLE ROOM YESTERDAY I JUST WANT TO SIT AND DO NOTHING)

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05:44

anyway what was i saying

oh yeah, this scene feels weirdly voyeuristic, lady getting ready for bed

“my nightly routine!! you’ll never guess what kills me”

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05:46

a ghost’s arms pop up out of the mattress and throttle the lady to death

okay firstly, i laughed

secondly, wow that was actually kind of cool

thirdly DUDE ALL FOUR OF YOUR LIMBS WERE IN THE BED, THAT’S MEANT TO PROTECT YOU 

fourthly, i heard something like this happened in the hotel version of american horror story?? i don’t watch it but i heard about something living inside a mattress

fifthly ACCURATE PHOTO FRAME BLOOD SPLATTER 15 points for the mattress ghost

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05:49

end of a phone call to cas. welp i’m guessing that’s all we’ll hear from him, with no other mentions

/sigh

LET’S IMAGINE THE REST OF THAT CALL WAS “I MISS YOU” AND “TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, AND I’LL TAKE CARE OF YOU WHEN YOU GET BACK, CAS. BUY MILK”

-

05:54

god after so many seasons fuelled completely by the winchesters’ extended family lying to each other i’m so not in the mood for more of the same

mary, your choices make sense but they sicken me

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05:55

mary: hey, i love you

BUT DID DEAN SAY IT BACK

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05:58

oh yeah of course it takes several months before crowley explains to lucifer how he’s back in his old vessel

pfff

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05:59

crowley: “we found your discarded vessel a few years ago”

but... didn’t lucifer still have the same vessel with glowing red eyes when rowena raised him from the cage last year

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06:00

“improved it”

and by that you mean gave it a 90s teen haircut and gel and highlights

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06:02

lucifer is hardcore queercoding himself right now

(or is that just how mark pellegrino talks? i’m not sure pls forgive. it’s cute, and tbh i love it deep down, but it’s potentially problematic in the grand scheme of audiences who associate obvious/outward queerness with badness)

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06:05

these suncatcher rainbows tho

mmmm purple was a good decision

definitely suits me

hi reflection of plants from outside on my glasses

THIS ROOM IS PLEASANT NOW I’M SO HAPPY

it was a gross green/yellow/beige colour before. i intend to paint every room in the entire house eventually because it’s all that icky colour and i hate it

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06:13

well after so many distractions, at least i can say this episode isn’t holding my attention very well

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06:16

if the spooky suddenly-cold ghost thing happened to me i’d just start talking and introducing myself to the ghost

idk if it would work but clearly running away, or staring at things in bewilderment and then screaming does nothing for anyone

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06:19

you know what, i think i realised why this isn’t holding my attention. i’ve had to repeat the scene where the lady tells sam and dean some information twice, and they’re talking about stuff that seems kind of abstract. i think the script is probably a little more “tell” rather than “show” which doesn’t really work for this particular kind of visual storytelling at all. they’re talking a lot, but showing mostly faces and unknown people rather than objects and actions, and all the new characters have no obvious personality besides their faces and their standard responses to standard questions

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06:23

giant ship in the background

i know it’s a shipping museum but FANDOM SYMBOLISM

guess this one was for the wincest people

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06:24

sam: “adhd spirits”

unsure if that was offensive or an accurate descriptor

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06:25

diner lady: “when are you due?”

kelly: (clearly unhappy) i have no idea

diner lady: well, take it from me. before kids, your life is yours. once they show up, life as you know it is over

WOW THAT’S NOT THE CORRECT RESPONSE TO KELLY’S EXPRESSION OR TONE OF VOICE

oh right, an angel. that makes sense. autistic with a twisted sense of humour.

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06:29

okay when does dean ever talk to himself (except if he’s talking to his car or to food??)

and NO THE AZTECS’ PRACTICES WERE FUCKED UP. DEAN TAKE A HISTORY LESSON

also .....i know this is a running theme recently, but why the hell is dean so clumsy with valuable artefacts

imagine him fumbling with a gun and dropping bullets???? no!!! maybe a model ship, they’re tricky things to handle and that was symbolic. but WHY A KNIFE

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06:36

lucifer: “oh my dad”

even after so long and such bad rapey writing from these exact writers, i still love lucifer

his evil is sort of an endearing evil maybe

-

06:38

“get a library card”

and i love rowena

HEY WHAT IF SAM HAS A COLLECTION OF LIBRARY CARDS FROM ALL OVER THE USA 

WHAT IF HE ACTIVELY COLLECTS THEM

IN THE NAME OF RESEARCH

if dean has space to lug around 15 suits and 10 coats and 30 ties and 300 plaid shirts, sam has space for 1500 library cards

-

06:39

ugh god what is with people demanding shit from rowena and making her do things against her will

sam i thought you’d go easy on her since she legit saved dean’s life 2 weeks ago

WHY IS IT ALL SO TOXIC

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06:44

AAAH MY MOTHER JUST SHOWED ME A VIDEO from this morning in our chicken coop

WE HAVE ~15 BABY CHICKS THEY’RE SO FLUFFY AND CONFUSED 

AAAAH

i’mma go see them very soon, maybe when the sun’s down because i’mma get sunburn otherwise, it’s delightfully sunny right now

-

06:47

why do i feel like this black guy is gonna die

-

06:48

WELP

there we go

/siiiiiiiiiiiiiigh

-

06:49

“come with me if you wanna live”

i’m guessing this is ramiel’s sister

obviously she’s gonna die eventually ‘cause she’s a demon and i don’t know how i feel about that ‘cause i kinda like her

-

06:51

right now i’m INTO IT and this always happens at the halftime mark of a deadly duo episode. one of these writers is a good ‘un

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06:54

rowena is so fucking pretty ughhghthggh <3

-

06:59

gavin: “my fiona’s a ghost?!”

see NOW i’m digging this episode and the storyline and the script and the characters

-

07:00

sun’s gone down, i’mma go see these baby chickens before it gets dark

-

07:20

all the chicks were hiding under their mothers, so no sightings today

but LOOK AT THIS FREAKING IRIDESCENT CHICKEN

-

07:37

thAT TWISTY-CAMERA GHOST MIST 

COOL

-

07:42

i see dean and sam still have the angel feathers

where do these angel feathers come from

where did the MoL get these feathers

HOW DO YOU MAKE WINGS CORPOREAL

WHEN WILL CAS SHOW US HIS WINGS

-

07:43

what i want to know is how they get the blood off all the walls once they’ve done all these spells

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07:44

dean to sam: “beam him up, scotty”

if sam’s scotty then dean’s kirk and cas is spock

this works a little too well

-

07:45

so

a love story again

why do i feel like this is kind of about dean

(because it’s always about dean)

and he’s the one in focus in this shot

kind of like “look what the dude did for the person he loved!!!” sort of thing

-

07:47

dean: “so the victims at the school are all back to work, it’s like nothing ever happened”

okay but if nothing happened and none of them died, then how can they go BACK to work? and if they’d been at work all along, how would dean know, since that wouldn’t make news stories??? and if dean and sam remember everything, wouldn’t the people at the school remember too? if all of fiona’s actions were erased (including deaths), then dean and sam wouldn’t have been in town to investigate, and gavin wouldn’t have shown up, rendering this entire plotline non-existent

THIS DOESN’T MAKE SENSE

YOUR TIME TRAVEL LOGIC IS FLAWED

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07:54

YAY MARY COMES CLEAN AND THIS DOESN’T TURN INTO A MASSIVE YOU-LIED-TO-ME ARC

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07:55

mary: Do Not Give Me The Face

dean: What Face.

mary: You Know The Face

dean: There’s No Face

mary: That’s The Face

yeah sounds about right

cas has that one categorised as “Oh No Dean Thinks I Fucked Up, Time To Do Puppy Eyes”

-

07:58

sam: “broken ribs and burnt feet” and [pause for everyone to say “brain rape” in their heads] “we don’t trust the brits”

-

08:02pm

okay well

mostly that was meh

some of it was okay

the time travel part was all mangled and self-erasing according to its own rules so i don’t know what to say about that

i dunno. it was just.. dull, overall

but that love story though. i’m not sure how or why yet, but it seemed to affect dean

maybe we’re just back to the “dean loves love” thing

i’d give this a 7/10 maybe. i wanna go 6/10 but that seems harsh given it wasn’t as dramatically offensive as usual, it was just a lil wonky. more tying up of loose plot ends, that’s good. bechdel test pass!! two surviving asian ladies, one of whom has a name. cool. several dead women and a black guy though. :/

also, regarding the angels that went poof! when daigon stabbed them. they went poof! like ramiel did when stabbed with his own magic spear. except he was a demon. when angels are stabbed by that it kills them slowly, poisoned like cas was. i’m guessing daigon has her own magic weapons that makes demons go poof! then

bluhbluhlbuhbluh okay that’s all bye