#weirdo art kid new wave

[soupbabe]

makes me sad

makes me want to fall in love

is from my favorite genre

Makes me Sad:

Makes Me Want to Fall in Love:

Is From My Favorite Genre:

[steddieasitgoes]

he can't sit with us (or maybe he can?)

written for @steddie-week Day 4 prompt: Trade Rating: T | wc: 2651 | no cw thank you to @stevethehairington and @thefreakandthehair for beta-ing this one for me!! Read on ao3

Eddie is amped up. 

Lunch has always been his favorite part of the school day, but today is going to be an especially good one. Not because of his lunch — he forgot to grab the sandwich he made last night so he wouldn’t forget, and he’s been out of lunch credit for weeks now, so he’s shit out of luck on that front — but because today’s the day he unleashes his latest rant on the hivemind that is the Hawkins High student body. 

It’s taken him weeks to work out everything he wants to say about the giant mall they’re building a few blocks from Main Street that everyone and their workaholic fathers are excited about. The one that led to the demolishment of Hawkins' second-best trailer park — Forest Hills being the best, obviously. He even asked Wayne’s advice on what he should say since his uncle has way more experience going against The Man™ and The Man’s™ People. 

He’s pretty proud of what he’s come up with. Sure, it’s a typical Munson rant that goes on a personal tangent in the middle about how Sam Goody and Tape World are probably going to put Jet’s Jams out of music. And okay, yeah, Jet’s Jams is the fucking worst most of the time and only ever has the top 40s bullshit in stock, but at least Eddie has some pull with good ole’ Jet and can bargain with the dude to order a metal record or two every once in a while. You think Sam Goody is going to take his advice? Not a chance in hell!

But then he’ll get back on track and get into the educational stuff that Wayne talked to him about. At least, that’s the plan; all he has to do is stick to the bullet point list he scribbled out in Ms. O’Donnell’s class thirty minutes ago, ignoring whatever the fuck she was going on about at the front of the room. 

It’s going to be great. Definitely one of his best lunchtime soapbox speeches. Hell, maybe this will be the one to actually wake some of his peers up. Capitalism is the real devil here. Not him. 

He’s bouncing with adrenaline and nerves as he saunters into the crowded cafeteria, ready for his moment, ready for—

What the hell? 

Eddie stops midstride when he spots Gareth and Jeff waving at him from a table in the middle of the room. Again, what the hell? That’s not their table. Not even fucking close. 

Eddie doesn’t believe in the social hierarchy of high school cliques, but he does respect the lunch table distribution system Hawkins’ operates under. And he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that tables in the middle are destined for the so-called elite. Not his Dungeons & Dragons club and the other lost sheep stragglers he’s accumulated over his extended high school career.  

They’re supposed to be sitting at a table on the outskirts of the room. The one by the windows, with the art kids to his right and the drama kids to his left. The weirdo, outcast corner. 

And yet, there they are in the middle of the room at a table usually occupied by the so-called elites and anyone else they’ve deemed worthy of their company. 

“This isn’t our table,” Eddie says, slamming his hands down with enough force to knock Gareth’s brown paper bag over, taking his unopened Dr. Pepper can with it. 

Gareth scowls, righting the can. “Now I see why you’re a super senior. Of course, it’s not our fucking table!” 

Eddie intertwines his fingers before pillowing his chin against them. “Okay then, Gareth the Great, tell me why we are sitting here.” 

“Our table is occupied,” Jeff supplies. 

“Occupied? Everyone knows that’s our table! Is this person new? Have they recently had a lobotomy?” 

This time, it’s Freak who speaks up. “No. He knows. He probably just doesn’t give a shit. A table’s a table or whatever.” 

Or whatever? Fat chance. A table hasn’t ever been just a table in the hellscape that is Hawkins High. Still, Eddie can’t help but be curious. There aren’t many people who would willingly sit at a new table this late into the school year. It’s a ballsy move.

He figures it’s a scorned drama kid or drumline member — there’s always drama in those groups; someone is always fucking someone they shouldn’t be, horny assholes. But when he turns to get a glance at this intruder, it’s not a butthurt outcast taking up court at the table, but rather Hawkins' very own Fallen King, Steve Harrington. 

For the third time, what the hell? 

“Did you tell him it’s our table?” 

“No! He’s Steve Harrington! I don’t think he’ll appreciate a couple of nerds telling him to move.” 

“And we value our lives too much to mess with upperclassmen,” Gareth says, mumbling something about learning his lesson the last time he tried something stupid like that. 

Eddie rolls his eyes before scoffing loud enough to startle the nearby table of cheerleaders. He wiggles his fingers in an innocent wave before focusing his attention back on his friends. 

“Please, Steve is all bark and no bite. And he hasn’t been Steve Harrington in a while.” Eddie raises his voice several octaves, batting his eyelashes as he says Steve’s name. “Now he’s just Steve Harrington,” he says, shrugging his shoulders with a nonchalance he never would have expected to use for someone of Steve’s former status. “He’s just some guy whose girlfriend dumped him for an artsy loner.” 

“It doesn’t matter, man! You don’t mess with people like Harrington,” Jeff says, shaking his head. “I’m sure it’s just like a one-time thing or something. It’s not like any of his friends are sitting with him. Maybe he’s just fighting with them.” 

Jeff has a point. Steve is alone. Sitting at the table all be himself, poking disinterestedly at an apple sauce cup. He’s not cowering or trying to make himself smaller like most people would do if they were stuck eating lunch alone, but he’s not making a show of it either. He’s just there. Minding his own business, staring out the windows Eddie has spent all five years of his high school career looking out off. 

“Those sounds like quitting words, Jefferson,” Eddie taunts, turning his attention back to the group. He makes a show of looking each and every Hellfire member in the eyes when he speaks again. “Are we quitters?” 

The entire table groans, a few shake their heads. Gareth, always the brave one, throws a chip at Eddie’s head that he manages to catch in his mouth. And people say he’s not athletic! 

“Since we’re not quitters, what should we do about this unlawful infiltration?” 

“I don’t know if it's an infiltration,” Freak says. “We just like traded tables without a verbal agreement.” 

“That’s worse than a seize!” 

“I don’t know, man. You’re the one that’s all fired up about it. Why don’t you go over there and ask Harrington to give it back to us.” 

“You know what,” Eddie says, pushing off the table until he’s standing. “I will.” 

With the same gravitas he entered the cafeteria with, Eddie saunters over to Steve. The sooner he gets this table thing handled, the sooner he can get on with his lunchtime diatribe — see Mr. Vance, I do listen in English class, old bat.

Eddie’s not a quiet walker by any means — he’s had enough pillows thrown at his head from Wayne for the way he stomps around the trailer in the mornings — but he manages to sneak up on Steve. Maybe it’s because his eyes are trained on a squirrel running up a tree in the distance, mumbling encouragements as the poor thing struggles to make it up. 

Huh, Harrington’s a squirrel fan? Who knew? 

Eddie’s watch chirps, a reminder that there are only ten minutes left of lunch. Jesus H. Christ! He’ll have to do an abridged version of his speech now, but it should still be enough to get his point across. That is if he manages to get Steve to trade tables with them without a fight. 

“Fancy seeing you here, Steve,” Eddie says, loud enough to startle Steve out of the squirrel watching. “What brings you to my humble abode?” 

Steve glances up at him with a look of disinterest he seems to have perfected in his fall from grace. And honestly, as much as Eddie hates to admit it and would never say it out loud unless he was being waterboarded or some shit, this new version of Steve really works for him. 

“Your humble what?” Steve asks, dropping his disinterest to look up confused instead. 

His brows pull together, scrunching up his forehead in a way that should be unflattering but is honestly sort of endearing. And his head is tilted to the side like a confused animal — something Eddie has a lot of experience with, given his unofficial status as a trailer park animal rescuer. Eddie’s so lost in studying Steve’s confusion that he forgets to actually respond, which like, is new territory for Eddie. He’s never one not to talk. 

“Look, man, I don’t know what you want, but could you just spit it out so I can go back to enjoying my lunch?”

Eddie’s personality returns to his body in an instant. “Enjoying your lunch, you say?” He takes a second to glance at Steve’s lunch tray. A measly bite has been taken out of the cardboard the school passes off as pizza. The side of congealed mac and cheese sits untouch and his apple sauce cup is open but still perfectly intact. “Doesn’t look like you ate at all, Steve.” 

“Seriously, Munson, what do you want?” 

Eddie tsks and yanks the seat next to Steve away from the table before not-so-gracefully falling into it. He kicks his feet up on the table a moment later, the toe of his boot knocking against the carton of milk he’s willing to bet Steve also hasn’t touched. Though he can’t really blame him for that one. Milk is not a lunchtime beverage, and no amount of dairy propaganda is ever going to change that. 

“As I’m sure you’re aware, Harrington, this is my table.” 

“I didn’t know the cafeteria had assigned seats.” 

“Bullshit, you didn’t,” Eddie growls, throwing his hands up in the air. The move forces him to lose his balance, chair wobbling on two legs under him, threatening to give out and dump him on his ass. Definitely not the lunchtime show he was hoping to give today. But before he meets his demise, Steve extends his hand, steadying the chair long enough for Eddie to drop his feet and reclaim his balance. “Thanks.” 

Steve grunts in response and goes back to staring out the window. 

Fucking squirrel. 

“Look, Steve,” Eddie says, getting straight to the point this time. “I don’t know why you decided to switch tables today or why you decided my table was the one you suddenly wanted, but can we please just switch back?” 

“I’m good here.” 

He tears his eyes away from the window for long enough to glance at his former table, where Gareth and Jeff are using straws as lightsabers without a care in the world. Steve snorts, and Eddie stiffens; he really, really doesn’t want to have to fight anyone today, but if Steve’s willing to be a dick about his friends in front of his face, well, fight, he will. But then Steve’s face softens, and he shakes his head in amusement. 

“Looks like your friends are good where they’re at, too. Though the lightsaber skills could use some work,” Steve teases. “Are we good then?”

“No, we’re not good!” Eddie shouts, trying his best to keep his brain on task. We’re here to get our table back, not ponder why Steve Harrington suddenly has a soft spot for nerds because what? “That’s your table, man, and this is ours. You’re going to upset the fragile balance of this place.” 

“Shouldn’t you be thanking me or something? I thought upsetting the balance was your life goal.” 

How dare Steve Harrington read him like that.

Since his dramatics haven’t worked, Eddie opts for the truth this time. “I have no interest in sitting in the middle of the damn cafeteria where everyone can see me and my friends just to cause a little societal unrest.” 

“And I have no interest in being forced to sit in the middle so everyone can stare at me while judging me and my mistakes.” 

Oh. 

The truth shouldn’t be all that shocking. Anyone who has eyes has witnessed Steve’s fall from King too well; Eddie’s not sure there is a word for what Steve is now. He’s not a pariah or an outcast, not smart enough to be a nerd, and the rumor is he quit basketball, so he’s not a jock. He’s just… lost? 

Steve groans, running a hand over his face for a second before his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose. “Can we pretend I didn’t say that?” 

“Uh, sure?” 

“Look, Eddie, I’m not going to trade tables with you, but if this one means that much to you, I don’t mind sharing.” 

“I thought you said you don’t want people staring at you?” 

“I don’t.” 

“Okay, well, sitting with the Freaks of Hawkins is definitely going to get people staring and talking, and honestly, you might even have to dodge a punch or two just for being in our vicinity.” 

“I’ll survive.” 

For the first time in his life, Eddie has no idea what to say. On one hand the idea of sharing a table is so preposterous he’s convinced he might be dreaming right now. But after a quick pinch to confirm that he is awake, he goes back to weighing his options. Sharing a table with Steve isn’t ideal, but sitting in the middle of the fucking cafeteria is a death sentence. He might be able to hold his own with the upper echelon of Hawkins High, but his ragtag group of friends isn’t so scrappy. 

And then there’s the lost sheep of it all. 

Eddie’s spent most of his high school career looking after lonely high schoolers. Whisking them under his wing, giving them a safe space to eat lunch or a club to hang out at after school to avoid having to walk back home alone. He thought he’d become somewhat of an expert at it, but it seems Steve Harrington has managed to slip through his cracks. 

Eddie would be the world’s biggest hypocrite if he didn’t at least try with Steve. It’s not like he has to join Hellfire or anything. All he’s really asking for his a spot at their lunch table. 

“I have one condition.” 

“Of course you do,” Steve says, rolling his eyes. 

“Actually, I have two.” Steve chuckles and motions for Eddie to get on with it already. “One, you can’t make fun of anything that happens at the table. We’re weird. You know it, we know it. We’re allowed to tease each other about it. You are not.” 

“I wouldn’t do that. Not anymore.” 

Eddie nods. “And two, you have to give me your dessert every day.” 

“Every day?” Steve balks. “You can have my applesauce and pudding cups, but I’m not giving you Friday’s chocolate cake.” 

“Guess you’re going to have to go back to sitting at the fishbowl table then.” 

Eddie watches as Steve considers this for a moment before his shoulders heave the world’s biggest sigh. “Fine.” 

Without warning, Eddie pushes away from the table, the legs of the chair screeching against the linoleum. His lips twitch at the corners, pulling into a genuine smile as he stands and offers Steve his hand. “Welcome to the Freak table, Steve.” 

[girliism]

being best friends with art and patrick was supposed to mean all romantic feelings were off limits.

“wait so you made out with both of them?” your cousin asked. “first of all i did not make out with either of them it was just a friendly kiss.” you had told her about the kiss you and art shared at formal and then the one you and patrick had yesterday. “friendly kisses don’t last so long that the two of you break away to breathe.” she makes a good point, they were far from friendly. but admitting that means you have to admit how your stomach erupted in a fit of butterflies during both kisses.

“what the fuck is this?” patrick walks over to you and art waving his class schedule in the air. “we don’t have home room together.” the three of you huddle up looking at your papers. “oh he’s right we don’t.” art points out. “at least we have every other class together.” you say. “at least? AT LEAST. we are supposed to have all classes together what if i get stuck with weirdos? who’s homework will i copy? i should get my parents up here.” patrick’s complains “honestly i don’t think it’s that bad it’s just home room pat you’ll live.” art patted his shoulder.

being without the two boys glued to either side of you was weird you felt exposed. “hi, can i sit here.” a voice asked from next you. “yea sure.” you look up to be faced with a boy. he was definitely new cause there’s no way you would forget a face like that. “i’m luke by the way. i just moved here.” you introduce yourself and the two of you talk all class time. “we have three classes together plus lunch which you can totally sit with me at.” you offer. he was new and didn’t have many friends you were being nice. “cool, i’ll look for you.” he smiled at you and you felt your cheeks heat up.

art and patrick were already at lunch when you walked in with luke. “art! patrick! this is luke he’s new i said he could sit with us.” you plop down in between them. art and patrick eye the boy suspiciously “hey, i’m luke.”

you and luke started dating a little while after that and art and patrick were not feeling it. “luke is nice why don’t you guys like him?” you pout just wanting them to get along. art hated him because of the tender way he’d kiss you when he thought no one was watching. but art was watching, burning with jealousy. patrick hated him because now with him in the picture you stopped letting patrick lay his head on your lap and combing your fingers through his hair opting to do that for your boyfriend instead. “it’s just we know nothing about the kid.” art says mouth full of popcorn. “yea this kid could a fugitive for all we know. you don’t want you to get pregnant by a fugitive do you?” patrick ever so dramatic adds. you scoffed. “what is your obsession with my womb.” “i just don’t want anything in it ok. you’d probably look ugly pregnant anyways. i’m helping you.” you stare at him in shock. patrick shows his love in weird ways.

you loved luke he was sweet and funny but he wasn’t art or patrick, and the feelings you were trying to ignore you had for them was getting harder.

“when is art coming this project is due tomorrow.” you flop down on your bed. “he said he can’t make it and to just do it without him.” so you and patrick worked for three straight hours. “uughhh, can we please take a break and watch a movie or something.” patrick groans draping his big body over your pressing your cheeks together. “fine.” you push him off of you getting up to close the curtains turing on a movie.

you’ve been alone with patrick before but this felt different. suddenly you were hyper aware of whenever his arm brushed against yours and how it would made your heart speed up. “are we ever gonna talk about the kiss?” patrick doesn’t know why he brings it up. the question was coming out before he could even think. your eye widen. “what is there to talk about.” you wanted to throw up. “maybe how i wouldn’t mind doing it again.” you can feel patrick’s eyes studying your side profile trying to read your thoughts. patrick always thought you were pretty. “i have a boyfriend.” you whisper looking into his eyes. he just mumbles ok before kissing you.

that was the beginning of something for you and patrick but unknowingly the end for the three of you.

“oh don’t the three of you look adorable. come on say cheese.” it was year end formal and you, art and patrick were standing in the foyer of your house while your guys parents took more than enough photos. “you look good.” patrick leans down to whisper in your ear hand resting lower than it should be. you and patrick have been sneaking around all school year and yea you felt horrible for cheating on your boyfriend but mostly you hated how you were lying to art.

knocks hit your door pull you from your thoughts. “oh! that must be luke.” your mom says opening the door to invite him in. “babe, you look great.” he smiles a you pulling you in for a kiss. art and patrick burn imaginary lasers into his head.

formal was fun much better that last year. you danced with both art and patrick at the same time giggling and stepping on each other’s feet. you snuck to the bathroom so you and patrick could make out in the hallway. this year the seniors let you guys crash their party.

“cassie’s been flirting with you all night art i don’t get why you don’t like her.” you say picking through the chips in the bowl in front of you. “she’s just not my type.” she’s just not you. is what he really wanted to say. “i have to go make a call i’ll be back.” art rushes outside. he’s been acting really distant lately.

you feel hands squeeze at your waist. “come upstairs with me.” patrick whispers in your ear leading you upstairs into a random room.

“you looked so hot tonight.” he pants into your mouth laying you down on the bed then getting onto of you. “thanks” you sigh out as patrick starts kissing your neck. the two of you have never gone farther than kissing and maybe light grinding. “have you noticed how when weird arts been lately.” you had no idea why you brought up art. but it’s be waying on your mind for days. patrick lifts his head up. “i mean he’s been a little quiet these days but if there was something going on he’d tell us.” patrick reassures going back to kissing you.

downstairs art walks back in the kitchen confused to see you gone. he taps some guy on the shoulder asking if he saw you leave. the guy points him upstairs. art walks into something he really wish he hadn’t. he walks in on you and patrick eating each other’s faces. “art!” you’re pushing patrick off of you to chase after him.

“art wait.” he only walks faster before turning around to yell at you. “how long has this been going on? how long have you and patrick my supposed best friends been lying to me. how long have you been lying to luke?” art was angry and sad. “a while.” you admit shamefully. art laughs throwing his head back. “i didn’t plan for this to happen it just did. and we only kept it a secret for you cause i didn’t want to ruin what we three have.” you were crying now, your eye makeup smudging. “oh so you and patrick were lying to protect me? that’s a pathetic excuse really.” art scoffs “you know i liked you first. while patrick was running away with a new girl every week i turned down everyone cause i was waiting for you.” that’s what this was really about. you didn’t know what say. “art i’m so sorry please don’t hate me.” you plead. art sighs completely over this entire night “i don’t hate you. i hate myself for trying to play nice guy all my life when i should have just went for you like patrick did.” “we’re still friends right art? cause i need you. i need the both of you.” you say desperately trying to keep together a dying friendship. “yea just like how i needed you and patrick just now and you two were seconds away from fucking.”

you knew something was going on with him but you were to caught up with your secret relationship with patrick to actually talk to him about it. “why what happened?” you grab arts wrist not ready to let go. art pulls his hand away. “it doesn’t matter. i’m tried i’m just gonna go home. don’t call me tomorrow” your tears are cold against your cheeks “ok. but we’ll still hang out this summer right?” you ask and it’s probably stupid but you really needed know. “can’t my parents are dragging us up to see my grandma she’s not doing well.” “oh. i’m sorry.” art hums “you’ll come back for the fair though.” another stupid question saying anything to keep him here. art sighs looking you in the eye. “i don’t know i’ll try. have a good summer bee.” he called you bee. that stupid nickname he and patrick gave you in second grade during your bumblebee phase.

art didn’t contact either of you all summer. letting yours and patrick’s calls go to voicemail. he also didn’t come back for the fair. the fair was something the three of you did every year. racing each other to the dock on your bikes, making a bet on who’d be the first to throw up after all the fried food and rides. you did break up with luke and officially start dating patrick though.

the next time you and patrick see art was on the first day of school. you three finally had home room together and you waved at him to come sit with you but he pretended not to see.

senior year was gonna suck.

part three

[thankskenpenders]

There have been some interesting bits of Sonic-related news lately! This is the post where I comment on them.

Sonic Superstars

Finally! A new Sonic sidescroller! It's been too long.

Admittedly, in a perfect world, I would've wanted a Sonic Mania 2, but I'll take a 2.5D game with all new zones for sure, especially when the art direction for it looks this nice. And four-player co-op with Sonic, Tails, Knuckles AND Amy playable? Hell yeah. Also Fang is back, and there's a new funny little guy designed by Naoto Ohshima! Wow!

There's been some concern over how this will play, particularly after it was discovered it's being co-developed by Ohshima's company Arzest. They're perhaps best known for some mediocre Nintendo games like Yoshi's New Island, Hey! Pikmin, and the 3DS version of Mario & Sonic 2016, as well as, of course... co-production on Balan Wonderworld. The thing is, Arzest is very much one of those "silent collaborator" type companies. They're hired gun developers who do the grunt work on projects for other studios without being put in the spotlight. The quality of their games isn't really up to Arzest, who are presumably just doing whatever they're directed to do with whatever resources they're allotted. It's up to their publishers.

Based on the side-by-side physics comparisons that have been going around Twitter, it seems clear that SOMEONE on this project is invested in making Superstars play just like the classic games. I'm admittedly no Sonic physics purist, but the extended gameplay footage (with placeholder music from Sonic 4 Episode 2) looks spot on to me. Christian Whitehead also seems to know things about the game, stating that "the Mania physics were indeed fully translated to modern 3D." It seems that at the very least they consulted his previous work on this, regardless of whether or not he's actually involved.

But even if this ends up not being true, honestly, I'll take a new Sonic sidescroller that's "just okay" if it has all new zones, nice art direction, and good music. If Sonic 4 had checked those three boxes but played exactly the same, I would've been way more into it.

Really, it's the music that has me most concerned. Obviously we all love Jun Senoue, but hearing he's trying to do "classic-style" music again makes me worry that he's gonna bust out the fake Genesis synths. I'm actually a weirdo who likes the Classic Sonic stage themes in Forces, but those weren't by Senoue, whose otherwise very strong compositions were really hurt by the sound palette chosen for Sonic 4. Like many others, I'd prefer it if Superstars went for the new jack swing sound of Sonic Mania - and considering Tee Lopes is contributing, hopefully he's allowed to tap into that sound a little. But I'd be open to other styles, too. I just really don't think a game with HD visuals should be going for a fake 16-bit sound.

But yeah, overall, I'm looking forward to Superstars. I think we've needed something like this for a long time, and I'm glad they're finally doing it.

Sega union update

We don't have many details on this, but the newly forming Sega of America union, AEGIS-CWA, is facing resistance from management. Apparently some form of "anti-union campaign" (their wording) is underway, also described more worryingly as "relentless attempts at union busting." We unfortunately don't have more details right now, and it seems like no news outlets are doing anything with this story.

This behavior is unfortunately not surprising, even from a company that purports progressive values like Sega. Remember kids: corporations are not your friends.

In the face of this, the members of AEGIS-CWA are still trying to convince management to stay neutral with the help of their fan petition that raised over 4300 signatures. At the time of writing this, their first union election is also underway. I continue to wish them luck in their efforts. We're currently seeing a wave of unionization attempts the likes of which we've never seen before, and I have to hope that at least some of them stick. We need real change in the game industry, an industry where if you're able to stick around longer than ten years without burning out then you're one of the lucky ones.

Okay now time for the thing y'all really wanted me to comment on

Penders says he's leaving Twitter

Earlier this month, Penders announced: "Since Twitter is promoting anti-trans nonsense, I can’t in good conscience continue to be associated with it much longer."

He's certainly not wrong. Elon's been doubling down on his transphobic fearmongering, and Twitter's already weak moderation of hate speech has only gotten even weaker. (They quietly removed their rule against intentional misgendering in April.) But based on the date he tweeted this, I assume Ken was referring specifically to Elon promoting Matt Walsh's shit ass transphobic documentary, which Elon personally allowed to be hosted on Twitter in its entirety. I'd quit the site myself if it didn't feel necessary to promote my work and stay connected with my peers. (Both the furry community and the gamedev sphere are very much centered on Twitter.) Assuming Ken does actually leave in protest, hey, good on him.

There's been some surprise over the fact that he's apparently a trans ally, but for all his many flaws, Penders has always been your average baby boomer Democrat. Half his tweets are about hoping Trump goes to jail. He has many outdated views that he refuses to unpack (I am not going to devolve this post into a catalog of stupid shit he's tweeted), but he at least understands that "progressive" is a thing you should try to be. He's that uncle who you wouldn't go to for a nuanced view on queer identity, but like, he knows trans people exist and are discriminated against and that that's bad.

Of course, instead of just leaving Twitter, he's announced that he intends to leave by September 30th, after which point people will have to contact him via his website. The idea of someone scheduling a date four months in the future on which they're going to leave a social media platform in protest is very, very funny to me. I wonder if he has something planned for September that needs to happen first - like, you know, maybe finally releasing at least a portion of The Lara-Su Chronicles?

Lord knows when the hell we'll be able to read the first part of the comic, but in the near future you WILL be able to buy THIS on a t-shirt!

Wait did he change that one character from Anthony Mackie to Ernie Hudson???

Anyway, my one hope is just that even if he does leave Twitter, he doesn't delete his account. His tweets have long been one of my most important sources for behind the scenes info on Archie Sonic, even if you do have to take some of it with a grain of salt. Gallagher and Bollers are simply not going on Twitter and talking about this stuff on a regular basis like Ken does. With so many old forums and fan sites now gone, only partially preserved by the Wayback Machine, Ken deleting his Twitter would truly be the burning of the library of Alexandria for old Archie Sonic behind the scenes drama.

You know, assuming he actually does leave Twitter.

...

Aaaand that about does it for Sonic-related news lately, I think? Okay, back to my hiatus. I would still like to get back to updating sometime this year, but I'm still in recovery mode following SLARPG's launch, so I can't promise when that'll be. I appreciate everyone's continued patience!

[papajscupcake]

PLAY DATE OR DATE?

PLAY DATE OR DATE?| DAD!RAFECAMERON X FEM!READER | IMAGINE

PAIRING: Dad!rafecameron X Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: when her daughter becomes friends with the new kid and the two children beg their for a play date but in the end the parents ended in a date

WORD COUNT: 1595

WARNING(S): talk about cheating

Author note: I’m thinking about doing young Coriolanus Snow imagines because I just watched the new hunger movie and DAMN he is too fine to be a villain it’s just unfair anyways I’m ranting and well enjoy

It was 15:30 on a Monday, the first day of school after the summer break, it had been a chaotic and heartbreaking summer for the two girls,

the (used to be) man of their house had left them after cheating on the girl’s mother then filed out divorce papers the day after he told her he cheated,

he didn’t make the effort with his five year old daughter and no longer called or visited her so it was just the two girls on their own which the mother of the girl was more then happy to have it that way even though she missed and the old family dynamic they used to have but she loves her daughter more then anything and would do absolutely anything for her

Waiting outside the school’s red front doors the woman stood on her own unlike the other mums who were with their partners or with other parents speaking to them about their gossip and home life

she however didn’t care for the mums group chats and parent meet ups she was only interested in her daughter and if she had a friend who she would like to have a play date with then she would maybe consider having one of the parents as a friend

The bell rang indicating that the school day was over and a moment later children starts to flood out the doors with their bags barely hanging on their backs, papers of art work they did in their hands and massive smiles as they ran to their parents

She didn’t have to wait to long before her daughter came walking happily out with a boy the woman hadn’t seen before he must’ve been a new boy to the school

The small girl waved goodbye to her new friend he did the same before running in the other direction meaning he spotted his parent

Her daughter’s eyes light up when she spotted her mother, her little legs carried her rushing body and jumped right into the woman’s stomach making her mother giggle at her daughter and put a hand on the back of her head hugging her close

“Hey weirdo, did you have a good day?”the woman asked as the young girl pulled away and smiled happily at her mother

the two had fun calling each other weirdo it was like their thing it was an harmless insult and joke that the two of them loved

“Hi you massive weirdo! It wasn’t good it was amazing! There’s a new boy in my class and he just moved here last week with his daddy!, I asked if he wanted to be friends and he said yes!” She rambled with joy in her voice as the two made their way towards the car

“That’s great sweetheart, I’m glad your making friends.”She answered taking a hold of her daughter’s hand which was reaching out to her to take

once the two were about ten feet away from the car her daughter’s new friend came racing towards her with a massive grin on his face and a man walking behind him, a man the woman found very attractive and handsome

His hair was brown and buzzed, he had a smart suit on no doubt he just came from work, his lips held a small smile like smirk but what captured the woman was his ocean blue eyes that found her ones she would’ve gotten lost in them forever if it wasn’t for her daughter who probably saved her from a life time of embarrassment

"Oh hi again!” Her daughter said with a little giggled as the boy also let out one

"Hi! Look what my dad just gave me!"the little boy exclaimed holding up a new toy and her daughter and the boy started to talk to each other once again as the two parents stood next to one another

usually this would be an awkward occurrence for the woman but with this new handsome man next to her she didn’t feel any awkwardness but almost comfortable in his presence

Finally the woman grew the courage after having a debate with herself about initiating a conversation with the man and smiled Turing towards the man the same time he did

"Hi I'm-"The both began but stopped as the woman let out a laugh and the man let out a chuckle with a cheeky grin settling on his lips

“Sorry, you can go first”He said as the two calmed their laughter,

The woman smiled holding out her hand and the man took it giving it a little shake

His hands were softer than she expected and Much larger than her smaller ones that almost look like they disappeared in his grasp

"I'm ‘….’ , I heard that you just moved here”She stated feeling a tinge of sadness as the two separated hands

"Rafe Cameron"he told her slotting his hands onto his trouser pocket

He felt slightly embarrassed when he felt with his finger tips how sweaty his palms were after having physical contact with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen

“Uh yeah, yeah we just moved, it was easier to work back in my hometown” He answered staring into her eyes that held a look he couldn’t recognise but he loved it

“Hometown? Your from here?”She asked her eyebrows frowning he nodded with a smile as he looked at her cute expression

“Yeah, I grew up here, uh my dad use to own two businesses in the figure 8” Rafe explained watching as the woman was in grossed in what he was saying which almost shocked him because he had never really had someone so interested in what he was saying

After a moment her impression changed into a realisation one then she exclaimed

“Oh my gosh Cameron! Ward Cameron! your his son damn how did I not realise sooner”Rafe chuckled at her surprised face then nodded

“That’s right yeah, yeah I took over one of his business recently and now I’m back obviously”He said with a chuckle at the end of his sentence as she did the same

“That’s great! How are you feeling being-“She began but got interrupted by her daughter’s loud squeaky voice

“Mummy! Can he come for a play date today!”She exclaimed giving her mother the puppy eyes that would usually make her fold instantly but today however her mother had already planned to take her out later that day for girl time

“Sorry sweetheart, we are busy today but maybe this weekend if they aren’t doing anything” The mother suggested then trailing her eyes to Rafe making the two children stare at him with the same puppy eyes awaiting his answer

“Please dad! It’ll be so much fun and you adults Can talk about boring old stuff!”The man’s son exclaimed making the two adults laugh Rafe looked to the woman asking her silently to which the woman nodded

“That sounds like a good plan kiddo but I think we should let them go home now”Rafe said as the two squealed in excitement and hugging each other talking about all the fun things they can do

“Oh uh here my phone number just when they want another play date or if I want a date with you”Rafe commented holding out a business card with his work number and private number

“A-a date with me?”The woman asked shocked laced in her voice as she took the business card Rafe nodded feeling his neck heat up in embarrassment to which he lifted his hand rubbing his neck

“Yeah, I think your beautiful”Rafe answered giving the woman a smile making the woman let out a breathy laugh and look to the ground trying to hide her blushed cheeks

“Does Saturday sound good for the play date/Date?” She asked looking back up at him with a shy smile making him nod

“Sounds great”He answered giving her one last grin before turning to the child who were chatting away and putting a hand on his son’s head ruffling his brown hair

“alright kiddo let’s get going say goodbye to your friend”The young boy nodded and pulled the girl into one last hug

“See you on Friday Rafe”The woman said as her daughter took her hand

“Bye ‘….’ “The two smiled at one another then turned separated ways the young girl looked up at her mother once the two boys had had away

“You like him don’t you mummy?”She asked as the two reached the car the woman’s eyes widen slightly and glanced down at her daughter

“What do you mean sweetheart?” The woman questioned unlocking the car and the young girl stood by the open passenger door

“My friend’s daddy, you looked like a tomato mummy”The young girl exclaimed at her mother who stood in her open door leaning on her door handle

“No no, It’s just because it’s warm outside now get in the car weirdo”the mother said tapping her daughter’s back making the little girl gasp

“You do like him mummy!”She exclaimed looking back at her mother the woman shushed her going to cover her mouth and the two playfully fought

“Maybe I do but keep it down a little bit would ya weirdo”The woman whispered making the young girl cover her mouth stifling her giggles and nodded her head

“Yes! the plan worked!”The girl’s muffled voice mumbled after the woman shut her door and made her way to her side of the car

If you have any requests you want me to do either dm me or comment :)

[the-weirdos-mind]

New Kid

I’m brain rotting Metal Family so I wrote something with my OC

Emilia groaned as the alarm on her phone went off. She grabbed the device after listening to the opening notes of the song she set as the alarm. She wasn’t looking forward to the day, as it’s her first day at a new school. Her family moved to the new town a couple of weeks ago but, her parents let her settle in for a week before throwing her into a new school. They knew that moving somewhere new can add a lot of stress to a teenager and immediately having them start a new school can add to it. Unfortunately for her, that week is up and she has to start a new school.

She threw the blanket off her body, put her glasses on and went to brush her teeth. She went back to room and changed from her pajamas into the outfit that she picked out last night. A black t-shirt with the art of Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge album, black jeans, black stud earrings, a black choker with a bat charm, a black necklace with a rose charm on a silver chain, and the black hoodie in case the classroom grew cold. She noticed the red and black striped arm warmers peaking on from her drawer and shrugged. She grabbed them and slipped them on. She brushed her hair and looked herself over in the mirror. ‘Of course there’s fur on me.’ She thought. She grabbed the lint roller and rolled it until there was no more white fur.

She grabbed her black backpack that was decorated with pins of her interests. Anime, bands, video games, movies, whatever she liked there was a least one pin. She went downstairs, stopping a moment to pet her cat before stepping into the kitchen. “Good morning.” Her mother, Kathrine said.

“Morning.” Emilia said, grabbing an empty plate and putting the pancakes that had already been made. She sat down at the bar in kitchen and started eating.

“Your sister will be driving you to school but you’ll have to walk back home.”

“That’s fine.”

Soon, she finished her breakfast and grabbed her backpack. She bid her mother a goodbye before meeting her sister, Ora at her car. The two girls talked on the way to her school. “Relax, you’ll be fine.” Ora said, noticing how silent her sister was staring at the place. “If any weirdo can survive it’s you.”

“Rude.” Emilia said before getting out. The rest of the day had gone by just as she expected it. She was practically alone, some kids whispered about her being a freak (which she wears as a badge of honor) and other nonsense that comes from school. She was so relieved when the final bell rang. She stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder. As she walked out, she noticed a purple notebook on a desk. She remembered it belonged to a goth girl in her class, as the teacher got onto her for drawing in class.

She looked out in the hallway to see the girl walking down the hallway. She quickly grabbed the notebook and went to catch up to her. “Hey!” She said as she ran. The girl looked around in confusion until she looked around. Emilia held the notebook out to her when she caught up. “Is this yours? I think you left it behind.”

“Yeah, thanks. I would’ve had to listen to another lecture about drawing in class if I went back.” She said as she took it and shoved it in her bag. “You’re the new girl aren’t you? I’m Lif, and you are?”

“Emilia.”

“Nice name, hey do you wanna meet a couple of my friends? I think they’d like you.”

“Sure.”

Emilia followed Lif to the front of the building and saw two boys standing by the stairs. One a redhead that was complaining about something and a blonde that was scrolling through his phone. “Finally, we’ve been waiting forever.” The redhead when he saw the girls. “Whoa, who’s this? Hey Dee, she even likes your pop.”

“Pop yourself.” Dee said, shutting off his phone.

“She’s the new kid in my class.” Lif said. “These are my friends, Dee and Heavy.”

“Hey.” Emilia said with a wave.

“Nice to meetcha.” Heavy said with a wave of own. Dee just nodded at her. Emilia was about to walk home when she noticed the three walking in the direction she was supposed to go. “Do you live down this street?”

“Yeah.”

The rest of the walk consisted of Lif and Heavy talking about random stuff while Emilia and Dee listened to them talk. Occasionally, either Lif or Heavy would talk to her to get her thoughts on a conversation. When she wasn’t talking she had an earbud in, listening to music. She turned the volume up when she heard Don’t You Dare Forget the Sun start. Pretty soon, they came to her house. “This is my place.” Emilia said, walking to the door.

Heavy groaned. “But I was gonna tell you about fighting zombies.” He said.

“She wouldn’t fight zombies.” Dee said. Emilia rolled her eyes.

“Maybe I would, maybe I won’t.” She said.

“See you tomorrow.” Lif said as they walked away. Emilia waved before walking into her house. She was surprised that she managed to talk to people on her first day at a new school.

[mywifeleftme]

16: Twinkeyz // Alpha-Jerk

Alpha-Jerk Twinkeyz 1979, Plurex

The Twinkeyz were a late ‘70s Sacramento garage rock band orbiting guitarist/singer/songwriter Donnie Jupiter. They cut a couple of singles in '77 and '78 and the Alpha-Jerk full-length in '79. The LP apparently suffered from mixing and mastering issues, and it disappeared virtually without a trace, taking the band with it. Jupiter would spend some time in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s playing bass in the even more obscure act Lizards, while also building a career in comics under his birthname Don Marquez. The Twinkeyz’ faint legend lingered though; their debut single “Aliens in Our Midst” is a regular on gay punk compilations, and they’re occasionally cited as a forerunner of queercore acts like Pansy Division.

The Twinkeyz were a B-movie Velvet Underground, laconic, witty rock and roll sweatered in primitive synth warbles and (to quote Scott Miller of Game Theory) “enough guitar effects to stun an elephant.” The lead guitarist (presumably Jupiter) is often the only one who seems more than minimally competent, and (although the songs on Alpha-Jerk were drawn from different sessions) the mix uniformly sounds like it’s thudding from a blown speaker. If the choice to self-produce robs Alpha-Jerk of a professional sheen, they also get to do a lot of stuff most producers wouldn’t allow. Nearly every track is studded with odd noises and found sounds, giving it a hand-made texture that suits the peculiarity of the music.

As with Suicide’s Alan Vega, the thing that makes Jupiter’s blunt songwriting distinctive is that it feels like an indoor kid’s idea of cool teenage music. “Strange Feeling” approximates then-current new wave pop, but the flatness of its affect seems to imply having feelings at all is the strange part; “Sweet Nothing” pulls the archetypally dumb garage move of ripping off the title (and nearly the melody) of a more well-known song, like they were trying to recreate “Oh! Sweet Nuthin’” from memory after dad broke their copy of Loaded over his knee. The lyrics about love, UFOs, psychic powers, and cartoons are obviously cute, but sometimes a sick sense of humour peeps through. Referring to weird psych as “bad drug” music in a well-worn cliché, but it’s the right description of “Alpha-Jerk,” a discordant dirge that could be about a kaiju or the Book of Revelations. The noises in the mix resemble the work of a crow leaving shiny bits and bobs on a tombstone.

It's all very good stuff for anyone with a taste for wimpy garage rock, but “Aliens in Our Midst” stands hips and knees over anything else here. The lyric cleverly mixes yarns about literal aliens with uncharacteristically direct anecdotes about queers and weirdos who “turn out okay” despite shitty circumstances, creating an anthem that is sentimental, bleakly funny, and ultimately hopeful in the exact ratio I adore. The campy call and response vocals in the chorus, Plan 9-ass guitar tone, subtly counterintuitive riff… it’s the stuff abductions are made of.

16/365

Sidebar: Cartuneland.com, the bizarre website of Donnie Jupiter (AKA Don Marquez)

As noted, Jupiter/Marquez mostly switched to illustration after the collapse of the Twinkeyz, and he's still selling his art on eBay. His own site, Cartuneland.com, is bewildering and uncanny in the way webpages end up when a brand outsources its content management to an overseas SEO firm. Samples of his fantasy paperback-style art are interspersed with bland stock photography, and the structure of the site is clearly based on a corporate template—only Marquez isn’t advertising himself as a freelancer, and the site isn't connected to his eBay page. The contact and social links are variously empty or broken, and the links to his past comics direct to Wayback Machine-captures from an Angelfire-era version of the site the artist probably built himself.

Strangest of all is the blog which, shockingly, has two posts this month alone—both of them about the Bodhran, an Irish hand drum. Of the six total posts on the blog as of this writing, two of them are interviews with Marquez. The others are ChatGPT-quality posts about general topics in music (e.g. “Connecting literature to art”; “What is a tin whistle?”) and a peculiar first-person story about learning to play the flute, all credited to someone named Rachel George. The idea was probably to pad out the blog with keyword-laden content to help the site become more visible to search engines, but to what end? Is Marquez really all that bent on becoming the most visible hit on “Don Marquez music” or “Bodhran for beginners”? You wouldn’t be able to tell from the interviews, which feature terse answers from the former Twinkey, such as:

Q: Many of your creations are based on classic horror and sci-fi films from the 1950s.

DM: I wasn’t trying to be retro.

Q: What’s missing from the current cinema that makes old films so memorable?

DM: Horror is a broad genre. Horror is a vast genre.

What we’re looking at here is most likely a Fiver contractor’s unfinished attempt to turn Jupiter’s website into a place to sell his original art, but as it stands it’s an oddly perfect web presence for a 73-year-old garage micro-legend and purveyor of swords ‘n’ tits fantasy. If anybody finds Question Mark’s Livejournal, please drop a link in the comments. And Donnie, if you're reading this, get in touch and I will fix your website for cheap!

[fair-night-starry-tears]

New fixation while working on a new art style for the overblot hero quartet

Fiona and Cake. Ngl. This show has a good resonate to me and somewhat a good impression on me. When you take the adventure out of Finn. You get a normal kid. Do the same for Fiona. Normal adult woman who is feeling am wave pool of emotions and finding purpose to life. And that’s a big mood and I wanna do an au with Panny as Fiona. The rest of the Twst gang are there. Just normal functioning lives and also adults.

Like mer folks just live near a beach and have an ocean salt smell. And the Beastmen are normal tho. But still. Everyone is around. Just at their own lives. And also new adventure since they all don’t go to the same school and had been normally at their own world of growing up. Then there’s Panny who feels like she is missing something in her life. She does have a apartment buddy which is Samantha/Twst Smee who always been her emotional support bud after many job burnouts. Samantha works at a restaurant which is a good ten minute walk near their place. And Panny does have her own Tink. But her’s a mischievous but smart guy who is a inventor but never gotten big. (And yeah he also likes her but she ain’t the same way with him. Just sees him as a brother. Gut punch.)

So now she finds herself at the missing adventure she couldn’t find but needed. And it really improved her lack of creativity and free spirit.

Ps that intro felt a big mood and that saying something.

@adrianasunderworld @mangacupcake @writing-heiress @the-weirdos-mind @skboba-stars @nproduction626 @rose-tea-and-strawberries @anxious-twisted-vampire

Tagline: Panny in lost World

Also here’s my wip after that word vomit

PAINT RENDERING BITCHES

[the-daughter-of-lilith]

At the age of 5 I had to say goodbye to my uncle, nana, grandpa, and best friend I was always around since I was a baby. I remember crying while looking out of the New Mexico “Alien” U-Haul at my nana sobbing as she waved goodbye as we drove away from her Brooklyn apartment. As I enrolled into elementary a year early, I recall taking my math book to class just wanting to focus on math equations and literature quietly at a table. Kids were too cruel to associate with. I eventually made friends with some of the more awkward, quiet, bright girls my age as years progressed though. We had our own little “weirdo” group we gravitated towards as years went on. We were dorks.

There was a brief moment I was forced to change schools in third grade due to my dad’s job, but after sobbing & pleading I go back to my friends, my parents finally made it work. (Also due to the fact there was an unusual paranormal presence where we temporarily lived.)

By the end of 6th grade I was consistently in theatre classes and summer theatre camps, that my parents decided to enroll me into an arts school. Saying goodbye to my group of dorky girlfriends was hard, as I was already grappling with the fact I lost my second Pekingese, Sushi.

Unfortunately I didn’t make the cut for ASA in downtown Phoenix, due to my anxiety with exams, and instead was enrolled in ACAA which didn’t require exams for enrollment. As I attended ACAA I finally felt I “belonged” somewhere amongst a huge school of weirdos just like me. Unfortunately due to my dad’s job frequently changing facilities as I grew older, my sense of “belonging” once again didn’t last long.

8th grade I had to start all over again, amongst a public school this time not focused within the arts. I eventually found a little group of weirdo girls like me again, thanks to our little obsession with the Twilight series. Transitioning into high school we still made sure to make time for each other as much as possible, yet my bond with them again was unable to last long, due to our apartment lease ending.

This time, I finally felt “welcomed” amongst a public school.

“Hey you’re that weird kid on the school news in the morning.” People said they enjoyed my personality on the screen. I was glad I could utilize my dorky, theatre kid antics, and appreciated for it. I made so many friends amongst weirdos once again like myself. Yet once again it didn’t last long due to the rumor mill piling that I was “homophobic” for “outting” someone I liked as a teen. (I never meant to “out” them, I was just trying to quietly cry in a bathroom about the fact nobody mentioned the party they were having they were planning to cheat on me at.) Silent treatment became overwhelming at home and at school. I had no way out except for selling my body for food, and disappearing with no explanation. It was hard, but I had no choice.

You can’t convince people you never “outted” someone, and weren’t really “homophobic” as they treated you through their painful silence. You just have to accept you are, move on, and focus on improving yourself.

I believed if I worked on myself I would attract the right people like my ex, both times, and was wrong. I allowed people’s silence to impact my own perspective of myself greatly, without even realizing it. I never confided in a single soul about my guilt for “outting” somebody in high school. I was too afraid I’d be shamed for it, and allowed myself to accept I was an awful person that ruined someone’s teenage years, allowing myself to be groomed & raped for a decade to cope with the pain.

That groomer caused me to lose even more friends, family, and pets than I did prior to meeting him, all under the guise of people being “jealous of our relationship.”

I’m now realizing how frequently life has taken pets, family, and friends away from me outside of my control. I’ve never developed attachments to people, places, or things due to this because I’ve always understood from a very young age “everything is temporary.”

(Perhaps that’s why I feel comforted by death so much…)

If people come back into my life, cool. I hold no expectations that happens, nor do I ever accept toxic people back into my life either. Once somebody betrays me it’s their loss. They made their bed. I move on quickly, as that’s what life has taught me the most growing up. Don’t stick around or make yourself comfortable for too long, it’s never worth it. The best form of comfort is the comfort in knowing nothing lasts forever. I’ll be fine alone in the world, as that’s all I’ve ever known, and ever will know.

As “God” brought me to the desert to be raped, it also brought me the knowledge of knowing my own fate. The fate that most are unable to fully digest and swallow. The fate that I was, and always will be, meant to be alone. 🙏

[leupagus]

PLEEEASE any sort of modern AU, PARTICULARLY washed up rocker Ed. There are a few fics in this vein but not enough. THANK YOU ETERNALLY.

Getting Louis to sleep is fairly straightforward: a few chapters from the latest Wings of Fire book and he's out like a light, drooling trustingly into his pillow. Alva, who selects and reads her own books, ta ever so, usually needs an argument or two before she can lay her weary head to rest. Divorce is the theme for this evening, though not quite in the way Stede's been dreading for the past few months.

"Why didn't you get divorced sooner?" she demands, shoving her seventeen different Pusheens into a vaguely better arrangement so that she can sleep amongst them and suffer only mild hypoxia. "Doug is so cool, he took us to the museum and we got to paint our own versions of the portraits. And he has a cat."

"Well, if your mother and I had gotten divorced sooner," Stede points out as he settles her blanket over her shoulders, "Then your mother wouldn't have taken that art class in January, and hence wouldn't have met Doug, since he only moved here from the States in December."

Alva is only temporarily stymied by this, pointing out that perhaps Mum would've found someone even better, like someone with a dog. Stede meekly agrees, and pinky-swears that anyone he himself falls in love ought to at least have a convertible or a pony or a swimming pool.

Mary and Doug are back by nine, slightly wine-flushed and trying to tell Stede about the Lyft driver's cologne while they pull out the various desserts they'd nicked from Mary's gallery opening. "Sort of a rotted cinnamon? Flavor? I can still taste it," Mary says, dropping an absent-minded kiss on the top of Stede's head as she passes his chair on the way to the kitchen. Stede collects the essays into a haphazard pile — Frenchie's the only one getting an A thus far, with a somewhat bewildering theory about colonialism and split infinitives that is oddly compelling — and opens the boxes.

"It did kind of get into your respiratory system," Doug admits, setting out the plates quietly — any louder and the kids will be up in a flash demanding that they share, and none of them want that. "How was everything on the home front?"

"We watched Moana again, and Alva wanted to know when Disney was going to make a movie about the Heartman. I told her that's probably not a family-friendly sort of story, which she took offense at, since the Heartman only carves out bad children's hearts and there are apparently a few of her classmates whose deaths could be very funny. At which point Louis asked what the Heartman was and the evening got a bit away from us."

"Oh Christ, he's going to have so many nightmares," Mary sighs, plunking some silverware down on the table. "Stede—"

"It's not my fault! Besides, it's part of his heritage!"

"Just because we were born in Barbados doesn't—"

"You should try this chocolate cake pop," Doug says, waving it between Stede and Mary like someone in a dinghy, desperately flapping a white flag between two battleships. "Has a raspberry center that'll really knock your socks off."

Stede frowns, but he takes the cake pop. It really is delicious. "Anyway, it's fine, he got much more traumatized by what happened with Luna and the Othermind in the latest chapter."

"Spoilers!" Doug says, cheerful, as he digs into a tiny cheesecake. Stede fights back a smile, which fails completely when he catches Mary's eye. They all sit down and grab more treats, and Stede gets to tell them about his insane new client. Or Oluwande's insane old client — but until he comes back from paternity leave, it's up to Stede not to mess things up.

"So this weirdo musician offered you a job helping him write lyrics," Mary says, "And invited you to his exclusive performance tonight? And then you watered his plastic plant?"

"Please don't say that like it's a euphemism," Stede sighs. "It was a very realistic-looking fichus."

"I'm sure it was." She taps her fingers absently against her thumb as she stares into the middle distance, the way she always does when she's thinking. It used to worry him, before — about what she might be working out, what she might be trying to fix or change or realize. Now, he's startled to discover it's… cute. "If he's paying someone to mind his fucking plants, he's got to have money, right? So was he not offering enough?"

"I know I'm a mere adjunct professor right now," says Stede, sniffing a bit, "But it wasn't the money that was the issue."

"Who is this guy, anyway?" Doug asks, snagging a coconut ball. "Country music star or something? One of the Mumford sons?"

"Mmm, no, no one I've ever heard of. An Edward Teach? Used to be in a band called—"

"Blackbeard?" Doug shoots out of his chair so fast it clatters to the ground; from down the hallway Stede can hear the telltale double-thumps of small children alerted to adults having fun without them. "Ed Teach from Blackbeard invited you to an exclusive concert tonight?"

"…yes?" Stede says, glancing from Dough's round eyes to Mary's covered ones. "Should be starting in a bit, actually."

"Honey, I love you, me and your ex-husband have to go," Doug says, and drags Stede out of his chair just as Louis comes round the corner, demanding to know if there's any biscuits.

[oopsitszuli]

May I request koku, douma, and akaza with a s/o who has a child but like the old husband abandoned them? So it’s just only the mother and the child. Like how would they react about it? :O

Akaza, Douma, and Kokushibo with an s/o who has a child from a previous relationship. (F!S/o, Sfw Hcs)

Authors note: I’m absolutely LOVING the stressed dad/stepdad requests I’m getting for the upper moon demons.

Warnings: None.

——————————————————————————

Kokushibo:

* Kokushibo was in for a huge surprise when he showed up at your home one evening and a little boy answered the door instead of you.

* As he gazes down at the kid his brain is hard at work trying to figure this out.

* “[Name] has a child? No, she never told me about this!” He would think to himself as the little boy continued to stare up at him.

* After a few moments of awkward silence the kid would point at him and just mutter the word “six” (he’s totally referring to kokushibos eyes)

[[ “um.. hi? Do you know where [Name] is?” Kokushibo asked the child, slightly surprised that the kid hasn’t run away while screaming in fear.

“Mommy is in the kitchen! Why do you wanna know?!” The little boy challenged while crossing his arms and glaring up at kokushibo.

“Tensei who are you talking too?!” A female voice would call from the kitchen. The little boy, now known as Tensei, would turn to look back inside the house.

“Some tall man with six eyes and long hair!” Tensei called back. ]]

* kokushibo would chuckle when you came running out of the kitchen and to the front door, quickly dragging kokushibo inside so no passerby’s see him.

* Tensei ends up running off to his room which leaves you and a still slightly confused upper moon demon standing together in your home.

* Eventually you pipe up and explain that Tenseis father ran off after Tensei was born and that you wanted to introduce kokushibo to Tensei a while ago but you didn’t know when would be a good time due to yours and kokushibos relationship being relatively new.

* After you finish explaining kokushibo assures you that it’s fine and he is impressed that your son wasn’t scared of Him!

* Kokushibo is definitely not used to being a parental figure but he’s gonna try his best to be a good dad.

Douma:

* Douma has the privilege of still looking like a human despite being a demon, so he was out for a stroll around a festival when he saw something that made his jaw drop.

* It was you! But you weren’t alone, you were carrying a little girl in your arms and pointing to the lanterns that were strung from building to building.

* Immediately he’s confused and also a little angry. Why were you with a kid? Did you have a husband and just not tell him? You two had been dating for two years and he would’ve noticed if you had gotten pregnant with his child.

* He makes his way over to you and once’s he’s close the little girl you’re holding notices him and smiles brightly.

[[ “Rainbow eyes! Rainbow!” The little girl smiles brightly while pointing at him, immediately [Name] turns and faces the tall man who stood behind her.

“Hello [Name].” Douma says softly, a slight annoyance hidden under his usually happy tone, [Name] takes a deep breath.

“Hello douma…I think we need to talk.” She said softly, douma nodded and the trio made their way away from the festival and back to [Name]s home. ]]

* one they got back to her house, [name] put down her daughter who ran off to her room.

* Once the child had run off [Name] turned to douma and started to quietly explain that her daughters father had left after [Name] had given birth and before [Name] met douma.

* It takes douma a few moments to process the information you had told him but once he had processed it he let out a soft sigh.

[[ Gently he took your hands in his and smiled down at you.

“Thank you for being honest, though I wish you would’ve told me sooner..” he said softly, you nodded in understanding.

“I know, and I’m sorry-“ he cut you off by swooping down and placing a gentle kiss against your lips, after a moment he pulled away with a smile plastered across his face.

“Don’t be! You had every right to wait to tell me no matter how it made me feel!” ]]

* the next thing you know he’s making his way to your daughters room to introduce himself and you’re following him so she doesn’t try to convince him to take her back to the festival.

Akaza:

* Akaza was completely in shock when he was met by the sight of a child opening the door of his girlfriends house.

* Unsurprisingly the child screamed and ran back in to the house while yelling “Mommy there’s a weird man at the door with stripes on his face!”

* Akaza stood in the doorway as you came running to the front door and he chuckled when you let out a sigh of relief.

[[ “Hello Akaza.” You said softly as your son stayed hidden behind your leg, Akaza waves gently in response.

“Mommy who’s that weirdo?!” Your child asked while tugging on the fabric of your yukata gently.

“He isn’t a weirdo, that’s mommys friend Akaza.” You explained while looking down at your son who only sneezed in response. ]]

* you invited Akaza inside and told your son to go play in his room while the adults talked.

* Obviously he asked you who’s child it was and you explained that they were your son and his father abandoned you the moment he found out you were pregnant.

[[ “would you like me to hunt the man down and beat him up? He sounds weak.”

“No akaza.” ]]

* After a while Akaza warms up to your son and he’s already planning to teach him the ways of martial arts(much to your disagreement)

[otakween]

Digimon Adventure: Our War Game! (2000) 

Vaporwave: the anime!! Well, kinda. I’m not sure what to call this aesthetic exactly, but it’s a vibe. Eerily similar to Hosoda’s other works. He sure likes his digital, CGI-animated worlds. I liked the mixture of his signature style and the more flashy looking title sequence. This all looks pretty modern and sleek for 2000. 

Digimon introduced: Omnimon, Kuramon, Tsumemon, Keramon, Infermon, Diaboromon 

Notes:

-I don’t get how these short films worked back in the late 90s/early 2000s. Wikipedia says that this was screened at some kind of anime fair, but I wonder if it was ever in normal theaters or on TV. Nowadays, the only chance I get to see shorts in theaters is when they screen the Oscar nominees back-to-back, so there’s probably some kind of criteria against showing stuff that’s too short. 

-At the start of the short I thought the kids were supposed to be aged up, but then Taichi mentioned elementary school, so I guess it hasn’t actually been that long after all. I think they just look a little more mature in this art style. Sucks that Joe has to take an entrance exam just to go to middle school. Yikes. 

-I got a wave of excitement coming back to these characters. It’s only been a few months since I finished Adventure, but I think it improved my viewing experience to take a break in between that and this short. 

-Taichi was pretty annoying in this, not gonna lie. He’s just so hyperactive and dumb. This is more apparent in the higher budget art style cuz he’s constantly moving around and very expressive. I wanted to smack him at points and be like “Chill out!”

-lol @ Mimi just vibing in Hawaii the whole time. Must be nice.

-When the digimon were like “we’ll go into the network to save you guys this time” I was kinda like “you mean the digimon world isn’t already in the network?? I think I need a diagram lol. 

-The fact that Sora canonically refuses to take off her winter hat to the point that she gets offended when Taichi gives her a barrette is pretty funny. She’s weird. She’s a weirdo. Have you ever seen her without that stupid hat? That’s weird. 

-Seeing them put up with the crappy 90s tech, including the computer being hooked up to the phone was pretty amusing and the Windows 98 ending credits were a beautiful thing 

-Seemed kinda random how Koushiro was chugging back teas just for the added drama of him having to pee. I thought he was going to reveal he had some weird illness or something, but I guess he was just inexplicably, extremely thirsty. 

-The fact that all those random kids around the world just kinda understood what was happening was a little weird. I get the super genius kids, but I think some of them were just supposed to be average so...

-The combo of the country bumpkins and the technological battle was clever, but also I’ve already seen Summer Wars so it kind of felt like a repeat to me. 

-That final battle was hype af! A little over-the-top dramatic with the swelling choir, but when they revealed Omnimon’s sword hand thingy, I was sold. He kind of looked like something out of Evangelion. This is the first time we see any kind of digimon fusing. I feel like that opens up a whole new can of worms...

[whimsinatural]

Isaac, Max, and a Borrowed Breath

Woah, new Pnat content from Whimsi??? Made mere days and not years ago???? unheard of! 

I wrote a li’l oneshot! Just a 4k word, G-rated action/comedy with a little Imaax sprinkled in. It’s also available on AO3! 

Summary: When a simple reconnaissance mission goes about as wrong as it possibly can, Isaac gets the chance he’d always dreamed of to prove how useful his powers can be---the chance to be a hero! In the heat of the moment, though? It’s so much less glorious than the cartoons always made it look... 

“Alright, kids, remember,” Mr. Spender had warned the Activity Club as they bubbled eagerly out of the noxiously car-freshener scented interior of Giancarlo and into the warm, sunny autumn evening. “We’re only looking for signs of the poltergeist: clawed footprints, burn marks on trees, or foreboding, grammatically questionable messages drawn into the mud. This is not a fighting mission! Kindly ask questions first and shoot later!”

He’d shouted the last part, because the kids had already tuned him out in their eagerness to get moving—or, more accurately, Ed and Isabel had already taken off into the brush, hooting with laughter. Max hadn’t been far behind them, which left Isaac no choice but to desperately scramble to avoid being left behind… again. 

Still—it wasn’t a bad day for another poorly-explained mission, Isaac noticed somewhat reluctantly. Birds and crickets chirped from the cover of the trees nearby, and a couple of tiny cat-moth spirits had been fluttering closer and closer to him since he’d left the car. When he lit his finger with cyan spectral energy, they followed all the paths and shapes he traced. No amount of torture could’ve extracted this confession from him, but it was sort of… well, magical. More magical than the average spirit encounter in his messed-up magical life. It was just—they were cute… and it was kinda like having a little animal familiar, like some of his favorite anime characters partnered with! 

“What are you sparkling about this time?” Max asked in a droll tone. Isaac jumped a little, cheeks immediately warm. He hadn’t noticed the wannabe batter lagging behind to walk next to him. He shook his hand out, and the fairy-cats dissipated with his spectral energy. 

“Uh. Nothing? I—I don’t sparkle!” He made a face, but he wasn’t sure if he was more annoyed with Max’s dumb question or his own dumb answer. “Look, you’ve got the wrong guy—ask Spender, he’s the sparkly one.” 

Max shrugged, smirking lazily and swinging his bat up to rest on his shoulder. He cast an exaggerated glance between Isaac and the history teacher a few paces ahead of them. “I mean, now that you say it, I can see it. There’s some resemblance there,” he drawled. 

“Wh-hey!” The blue glow cast from his sudden outburst of spectral energy reflected on Max’s smug smile. “I do not! Take that back!” 

“No, no, hear me out,” Max elaborated. ‘You’re both, like, wisened and world-weary elderly.” 

“I’m only one year older than you,” Isaac grumbled, shoving Max’s shoulder. 

“Chronically bad at keeping secrets,” Max continued, counting off on his fingers. “Emotionally volatile, brooding protagonist weirdos. Probably could fry any monster without blinking but can’t withstand three seconds of a snark attack before immediately crumpling. I bet you’d both forward those dumb bad-juju chain emails if you knew enough people to send ‘em to. I bet you both eat your chips with chopsticks.” He shrugged. “Not to mention them matching beautiful baby blues and sparkles, my guy. Time to face the truth; you’re practically long lost twins.” 

Isaac sputtered for thirty seconds straight, fighting an uphill battle through waves of offense before any of Max’s words had even gained any meaning. “Wh–hhh–ugh–shut up! You don’t know anything!” There wasn’t anything wrong with—he didn’t just eat chips with chopsticks to harness the power of anime, it was cool and unique and artful and kept his fingers from getting greasy! And— “Wait, Spender has blue eyes?” 

“Alright, I was gambling on that one, but how can he not? I mean.” Max gestured at Spender. “If I didn’t know better, I would think he’s possessed by the ghost of Barbie-Ken. Look at ‘im.” 

Okay, that was kind of funny. He glanced at their club leader weaving gingerly through the tall grass ahead of them, currently tussling his own hair in thought while gazing off into the distance. He was wearing a blue button-down, khaki shorts, Adidas sandals, and—of course—his signature sunglasses. Something about him did seem vaguely… plastic. 

Isaac snorted, meeting Max’s dark blue-gray eyes again. “Well… I’ll give you that one. Funny, I’d always kinda imagined him with—eh, maybe light hazel eyes?” Golden, he’d almost said, but that would’ve sounded weird. Not that it mattered. It was kinda weird to realize that he hadn’t looked Spender in the eyes even once in the two years he’d known him. Just another dumb, pointless secret. 

Wait a second. Isaac raised a brow smugly. “Anyway—didn’t take you for a Barbie fan, Max.” 

The reaction he got wasn’t anywhere near the level of the flustered reactions he gave, but he’d take Max’s subtle mis-step as a small victory. “Yeah, me either, Elsa, but tragically, I have a nine-year-old sister and intact observation skills.” 

Isaac mimed a flicking motion in Max’s direction, sending a miniature gust of a snowstorm at him. Max shivered, but otherwise he took it all in stride. “...You’re just proving my point, you know.” 

Isaac rolled his eyes amiably. “I could take out Elsa with both arms tied behind my back, and you know it.” 

“See, there’s that Disney villain energy we all know and love,” Max cheered monotonously. “All that’s left is the song and dance, and your transformation will be complete.” 

“Is that a dare?” Isaac grinned evilly. 

“What? No. It’s a taunt. Don’t–” 

For a glorious instant, Isaac managed to both form recognizable tentacles out of spectral energy and sing the first few notes in-tune: “Poor unfortunate souls! In pain! In need!” 

“Aaaaaah,” Max groaned tunelessly, halfheartedly covering his ears with his hands—but he was grinning, too. “Okay, you win, weather witch. Spare me, have mercy.”

“Agh! Isaac!” Isabel shouted reproachfully from the front of the group, and his self-confidence and smile both immediately fell flat, replaced with a scowl and heat in his cheeks. What was he doing? He—he’d almost completely forgotten that anyone else was even there. He’d been… well, acting like a total loser dork, but he’d been having fun.

Then he and Max stepped into the abrupt bank of mist and drizzle, too, and he realized suddenly that Isabel hadn’t been complaining about his singing. “It’s not me!” He shouted back. 

Max elbowed him gently, startling him. “Don’t tell me they always blame you when the weather turns,” he scoffed. “Or else I’ve got a lot of complaints to file for bright, blinding sunshine that could’ve been school snow days. Or at least a little overcast.” 

Isaac only managed to answer with a weak smile before something else answered for him, screeching out of the thick fog with a voice like a rusty faucet handle. Five different colors of spectral energy shot up, even more ghostly-looking than normal as the ethereal light reflected eerily on the ambient water droplets. Max readied his bat. Spender jogged ahead to catch up with Isabel and Ed, presumably to stop them before they could dash off and attack the source of the awful sound alone. With parallel motives (much to his chagrin), Isaac held a hand out in front of Max in a motion between shielding the newbie and holding him back. 

“Max, wait. It could be dangerous,” he cautioned, ignoring the eyeroll he received in return. “Or… it might not be aggressive at all—it could just be a hurt spirit or something. Either way, we should think about this before we–” 

“We’re not gonna figure out anything by standing here,” Max objected, but he was immediately proven wrong by the sounds of shouting and threats of impending violence up ahead. The two boys shared a look, then hurried to catch up with the rest of the club. 

Isaac hadn’t realized they’d been so close to the lake until he watched the spirit ahead rise from it in a mass of writhing tentacles. It had a long, green, arched scaly neck and a metallic, toothy muzzle shaped sort of like an alligator’s, lined with holes that sprayed mist. The light of the sunset created a rainbow halo effect on the dense fog surrounding it. The matte red frill on the back of the spirit’s head resembled something between decorative horns and the spigot of a hose. With another blood-curdling creaking sound, the spigot spun, and the fog and drizzle pouring out from its eyes and all the divots along its face were replaced with pressurized streams of water. Isabel opened her umbrella over herself and Ed; everyone else was drenched as the beast gazed down on them. It hovered there, regarding them as the group stared back up at it.

“Did we make it cry?” Ed guessed, paintbrush in hand. “Maybe we just spooked the poor spook. Or maybe it really, really liked Isaac’s singing.” 

“It’s not what we’re looking for, is it?” Isabel asked Spender, ignoring Ed’s theory while, rather uncharacteristically, following the mission orders and checking with their team leader slash figurehead before resorting to violence. 

“No,” Spender called over the hissing and drumming sound of the falling water all around them, taking a single step back. “I think it’s only territorial. Come along; if we back away, it should leave us–” 

He cut off with a yelp when the thing abruptly bent down, snagged him around the waist with its teeth and spun its head, whipping Spender around end-over-end like a plane propeller, all the while spraying water in great spiral patterns like a hyperactive lawn sprinkler. In a burst of bright yellow light, Spender fell. The spirit’s freshly-detached head fell into the shallow water with him, metal jaws still locked around his trunk. The neck flopped down into the water an instant later, missing Spender by a few feet. It looked hollow inside like a garden hose, still sluggishly pouring fresh water into the muddy, churned-up lake. 

Spender splashed up out of the lake with a gasp and a cheery thumbs-up, looking like a half-drowned golden retriever but free from the gator’s jaws. It must not have had very sharp teeth, as he didn’t look injured. He must’ve still been a little dizzy, though, because he only managed a few steps before tripping, ending up on his hands and knees in the muck. “I’m alright!”

Isabel broke out of her default fighting stance to run towards the monster, Ed in hot pursuit. A spectral sword gleamed in her free hand. “Mr. Spender!”

The spirit hadn’t given up the ghost yet. The hose slowly unfurled and rose above the group again, oozing water and gray spectral energy. The mixture took on the shape of two new, smaller heads facing opposite each other, quickly solidifying. If the hydra had looked upset before, it was furious now. It resumed its downpour with redoubled efforts. 

Isabel took a slice out of a thick, hollow tentacle right before it flattened Spender, causing the creature to withdraw the appendage momentarily. Ed looked like he was trying to draw something, but the ink kept running down his arm instead. Isaac fired off a spec-shot and it just barely grazed past the hydra’s leftmost bulging, weeping silver eyeball. The thing shook its head, spun its spigot, sprayed more water, and suddenly darted to snap at Isaac in the same way it had attacked Spender. He dodged quickly, firing another spec-shot. He thought he heard it strike, but it was hard to tell—the air was so thick with water, it was running in his eyes and making it hard to see. Which was stupid, given that he had weather powers. He should be immune to rain. Swimming goggles would’ve been great right now. At least it wasn’t ectoplasm or anything else potentially corrosive—it was going in his ears and his mouth and his nose, and it tasted exactly like tap water. 

He’d fry the thing, but he wasn’t sure he really wanted to kill it—just scare it off, maybe. Even then, couldn't see more than a few yards in front of him at best, and… even if he didn’t hit anything directly, he was afraid of the lightning traveling through the water and electrocuting someone else. His hands were tied. No wonder nobody ever wanted him at their back in a fight.

Gritting his teeth, he ran towards the fray, summoning a spectral weapon and a gust of wind to clear the air around him somewhat. Maybe if he got close, he could freeze its mouth shut and they could all still make a quick getaway. Somewhere ahead and to his right, he could hear Isabel’s war cry, still distinctive amid the raucous splashing and screeching of the hose hydra-gator thing. The hydrator. 

He ducked as another sleek green tentacle whipped over his head, jabbing up at it blindly with his electric-blue spectral spear. The construct flared up in his hand and lost its shape at the cut-off scream behind him. “Max!” He whirled in place, watching in horror as the appendage swiftly snatched his friend. It whipped him back through the air towards the hydrator, leaving his baseball cap lying upside-down in the fresh mud. Panicked crackles of lightning snapped around Isaac’s arms, filling his chest and frying his nerves as he ran after Max. What was it gonna do—eat him? Crush him to death? Throw him halfway across the lake? He snarled and summoned a bigger gust of wind, boosting his speed and momentarily flinging the torrential spray back at the hydrator to clear his vision. There were the tell-tale flashes of yellow, red and green energy battering on the body of the monster, but where was Max? He hesitated, still panting and sparking.

Something shoved him from behind, just strong and unexpected enough that he stumbled forward a few steps. His eyes widened and he clapped a hand to his back right pants pocket, but there was nothing there—just his phone, probably wrecked from all the water and electricity. Because of the metal components. Magnetism. Max! He charged forwards in the direction his pocket pulled him, splashing through knee-deep and then waist-deep water, shooting off the occasional spec-shot to ward off more tentacle attacks. Heaving a few deep, rapid breaths, he dove. 

It took his stinging eyes a few moments to adjust to the murky water, but that didn’t slow him down. There, a flash of silver and black against the silt and algae—Max! He wasn’t still wrapped up in the hydrator’s tentacle, but he looked half-buried in the muck at the bottom of the lake. He must’ve seen Isaac, too, because he was waving frantically.

Isaac almost swam back up to the surface to catch his breath, lungs already aching—and it really wasn’t that deep, but—Max had been down here longer! He was gonna drown if he didn’t do something! He quickly paddled his way over. The magnetism in his pocket stopped pulling him along as Max gave up on using his powers and tried to use his bat to push away from whatever had him trapped instead, to no avail. Isaac gripped him under his arms and pulled up with all his might. Max didn’t budge except to claw at Isaac’s shirt. His ankle was caught—he was really trapped down here, and he was going to drown, holy crackers, this couldn’t be happening! 

Help me, he thought angrily, as if King C. cared. But the half-addled plea gave him the spark of an idea, and quickly, he raised both arms, summoning the biggest, hardest gust of wind he ever had straight down towards them. Amazingly, it split the lakewater above them, tunneling down through the churning water and blasting boatloads of mud and pondscum off into the walls of water around them. The force of it drove Isaac down to his knees. It was too harsh to breathe! Coughing and spitting, with more concentration than he’d ever lent anything else in his life, he eased the vicious wind until it was just at the edge of his control. The water regathered again above them, but his constant, careful tugging and stirring of the air in their bubble held it together and tethered it in place around him and Max. 

Standing there on the bottom of the Mayview lake, he took a tremorous breath of the dry fish-and-ozone scented air. His knees and his hands shook. His teeth chattered. Keeping his hands raised so he wouldn’t lose command of their air supply, he offered a wobbly grin to Max. 

Max, whose eyes were bugging out of his skull and whose fingers were digging painfully into Isaac’s shoulders. Max, whose mouth was gaping open without any sound. Max, who was still not breathing! Isaac swore. What was he supposed to do? He’d never done the Heimlich maneuver, or… uh… mouth to mouth… or anything like that! Dangit, he was useless! 

The bubble wobbled around them in response to Isaac’s panic, and a little arc of lightning flew from one of Isaac’s hands to the other, narrowly missing Max. He didn’t seem to notice. Isaac took a deep breath, trying to steady himself for… CPR, maybe, or at least the best he could do from what he’d seen on TV. He was pretty sure he could do the heart pumping part, and maybe even off-brand defibrillation; he wasn’t so sure about the breathing thing. But, wait: breath was wind, wasn’t it? It was kind of a stretch, but—crud, he was so freaking stupid. 

Hands occupied, he pursed his lips and inhaled sharply like sucking through a straw, trying to force a tiny gust of wind up through Max’s windpipe. He almost didn’t notice the little freed glob of spit and mud splattering on his cheek, overwhelmed by the sound of Max finally taking a long, rasping inhale. The white-knuckle grip on both his shoulders didn’t release for the span of a few more heaving coughs. For completely different reasons than before, he almost lost control of the bubble again when Max finally sagged forwards, letting his forehead drop onto Isaac’s shoulder. 

“Uh,” Isaac tried, swallowing hard. The temptation to squeeze Max like a teddy and cry was sudden and almost overpowering. He settled for tentatively lowering one arm to pat Max on the back. “You okay?” 

“Ughh,” Max groaned hoarsely. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Flippin’... heck.” 

“Yeah,” Isaac agreed dumbly. 

They stood like that for a while. It was really hard to focus on keeping the air swirling at a constant speed so the bubble didn’t break up. Maybe that was a blessing in disguise, since it also kept Isaac from focusing too much on whatever had just happened and whatever was currently still happening. He continued rubbing small circles into Max’s back, almost succeeding at breathing with a normal rhythm. 

“So.” Max finally retreated. “I’m still stuck.” 

“Oh. Right.” Isaac pursed his lips, trying (and failing) to keep his cool. Max bent down to pull at the slimy pond gunk his ankle had gotten wrapped in. After watching his trembling fingers struggle to tear through the mess of weeds and roots, Isaac crouched down to get a closer look and offer whatever assistance he could with his free hand. Maybe he’d moved too quickly, because he almost fell back on his butt—he was kinda dizzy for some reason. The adrenaline high and recycled air, probably. 

Something vaguely shiny mixed up in the gunk snared around Max’s ankle caught his eye, and his anger lent him a moment of clarity. “Is this… fishing line?” It was one thing to almost die during an epic battle with a hydra monster, but drowning because some dumb, lazy jerk littered? That was unforgivable.

“Mmyep. I’m guessing you don’t have a pocket knife or anything, being a pacifist,” Max grumbled. 

“I’m not technically a—no,” Isaac huffed. “I don’t. But maybe we can… uh…” He had the brief mental image of trying to bite it off Max’s ankle, but immediately shook that idea out of his head. He had to pull their bubble back down after that, as it had started to rise up past Max’s knees. 

“Alright. Cool. Good,” Max huffed, still trying to work his jittery fingers under the tightly knotted material. “I mean, I gotta say, I’ve never sympathized much with the whole vegan cause before, given that you all seem like some kinda weird extremists, but now that I’ve had the full immersive experience of being a pitiable sea animal trapped by, uh, man’s carbon waste ‘n’ junk, I can respect your whole eco footprint gig. Not that I’m giving up cheese or pepperoni or whatever any time soon. Rrgh.” He paused to shake his hands out, clearly frustrated. 

Isaac cracked a smile at that. “You can be the guest of honor at our next Pro-Earth Vegan Agenda meeting. Here.” He formed a jagged icicle and slipped it between Max’s skin and the twine. “Sorry… I’ll try not to hurt you, but this is, uh. Probably pretty cold and sharp.” 

“Thanks. I noticed,” Max deadpanned. 

It was difficult with one hand. Isaac winced more than Max did every time he nicked him with the sharp edge of the ice, but it was working. Finally, the last stubborn piece of twine snapped. Max kicked his feet behind him a few times, making sure he was free and probably trying to return some circulation to his feet. Isaac let the ice fizzle away and stood. 

“Are you alright to swim out of here?” Isaac asked, peering up at their warped reflections on the underside of the surface of the lake. 

“What, you don’t wanna wade through the muck together like this? It’s like a really low-budget aquarium,” Max objected mildly. 

Isaac squinted at him. Max’s poorly cobbled-together lackadaisical airs broke apart much quicker than usual under the mild scrutiny. He ducked his head, scratching his hairline like he wanted to pull his cap down. “Uh. I mean…” Max shucked off his backpack. “Turns out it’s kinda hard to swim with all this scrap. I guess I could just leave this here, though. If you’re not gonna call the vegan cops on me for littering or whatever.” 

Oh. That explained how he’d ended up down here in the first place—or, it made more sense than imagining the hydrator grinding him down into the gook like an overzealous kid squashing a spider. “I could probably carry that for you, if you want me to. Or you might be able to launch it up to shore by using your tool,” he pointed out. 

Max held his backpack out at arm’s length, positioning his bat underneath it at an angle. “Welp. I’ll take door number two, ‘cuz I’m not in the mood for an instant replay if you get stuck.” Abruptly, the backpack rocketed out of Max’s grasp and broke through the water above them, arcing through the air and out of sight. “Sorry, Mr. Spender; the magnets ate my homework,” he muttered. 

“I’m gonna let go of the bubble,” Isaac warned. “You ready?” 

Max held up one hand. “Wait.” He wrung the handle of his bat in his hands, looking away and heaving a few deep breaths before squaring his shoulders and nodding. “...Yeah, okay.” 

Isaac swam slowly to keep pace with Max, who was obviously capable of swimming but somewhat hindered by the unwieldy weight of his tool. They broke the surface together, spitting and blinking the lakewater away. The hydrator was gone. The air was clear, and the colors of the evening sky lit the lake with a rosy hue from above. 

“Isaaaac?” Spender’s worried voice called out from somewhere over by the treeline. “Maaax??” 

“Over here!” Isaac shouted, kicking up a little higher in the water for a second to wave a hand before resuming the swim to the shore. Isabel must have heard him; he could hear her shouting for the others over the splashing of water, and soon enough the whole group was happily reunited on soggy land. 

Isabel immediately wrapped one arm around each of them, to Max’s wriggly, grumbly annoyance and Isaac’s secret delight. “Guys! You’re alive!” She declared, squeezing them both. “We did it! Team Activity Club for the win!!” 

“I toldja that was Max’s backpack flyin’ up out of the lake o’er yonder,” Ed grinned as Max twisted out of Isabel’s grasp. Isaac ducked to follow suit, abashed but much more reluctant to relinquish the attention.

Spender was still struggling to catch his breath from jogging over. “I’m so sorry, kids, I should’ve… ah, well… are either of you hurt? What on earth happened, where were you?” 

“Uh, we were… in the lake…?” Isaac side-eyed Max, at a loss for how to describe what they’d just been through. 

“Isaac is certifiably cool now,” Max announced, crossing his arms. “I’m promoting him as the executive manager of cool in this club. All other opinions are invalid. No, I will not be taking questions.” Maintaining a perfectly straight face, he shot Isaac a decisive nod and a wink. 

“Um. Come again?” Spender tried, but everyone pretty much ignored him. 

“Congratulations, kid,” Ed offered, clapping Isaac on the back in a grandfatherly way. 

Isaac blinked, belatedly hiding his big dumb grin and flushed cheeks with a hand. “Oh... thanks.” 

After reclaiming Max’s cap and backpack, the group wearily made their way back to Spender’s car, original mission abandoned. It was a relief to call it quits early, but it almost felt… anticlimactic, after everything that had happened. Surreal, maybe.

At least—it did until the car pulled up to the Corner Store. Before getting out, Max leaned over to bump Isaac’s shoulder with his own, smiling and nodding before quickly looking away and pulling down the brim of his cap. “Hey, man. Thanks for the save back there. Gotta admit, that was pretty cool,” he offered in a low tone. 

“Oh,” Isaac managed breathlessly, mindlessly bunching up the hem of his damp shirt in his fists. “Thank you. Uh, I mean. Yeah. Anytime.” 

Max glanced back one last time as he stepped out, smirking and tapping the rim of his cap like a salute. “Sure. See you tomorrow, Isaac.” 

He wasn’t able to pull himself together enough to answer before his new friend had already closed the heavy car door and left, but it didn’t matter. That sweet, giddy feeling stuck with him all the way home. 

----

a/n epilogue: 

Isabel forgot the tooled-up Hydrator (a soggy shopping receipt) in her pocket and sent it through the wash where it disintegrated, so now her washing machine is possessed and occasionally spits water everywhere or tries to nom Spender.

Spender cried all the way home because the kids got so much mud in his pretty car.

Isaac and Max started to hang out outside of club time and watch dorky sporty/action cartoons while both fervently pretending not to enjoy it.

Ed was Ed. ('nuff said). 

(thanks for reading!!! <3)

[askthewvba]

So, do you guys have any hobbies outside of the ring?

Little Mac

While Mac does devote much of his time to training and preparing for his next matches, he's still a teenage boy! That bike is good for casual rides too, and when he and Doc have some time they'll go riding through the streets of New York (while avoiding fans!). Video games are another go-to pastime; he and Birdy get together to game pretty frequently, though he also makes the effort to teach Doc how to play. Doc's still figuring out how to manage newer generation controllers.

Glass Joe

When out of the ring, Glass Joe greatly enjoys his time to be spent in calm, quiet comfort. He frequents libraries and book shops for new reading material, then makes himself cozy in his reading chair with his cat Miette on his lap. When he chooses to leave the house, he'll drop by his usual café and pick up a snack and a cup of coffee - sometimes he'll visit the café twice in one day if he'd already gone there for breakfast.

Von Kaiser

Von Kaiser's never been one for idling, and prefers even his free time to be productive and/or busy. Otherwise, he just feels antsy! He's got a collection of boots to be polished, bookshelves to be reorganized, training equipment to be tidied and touched up, anything to keep his mind from wandering and his hands occupied. Additionally, he'll take his dog Jäger out for walks around the neighborhood.

Disco Kid

Oh, it's not too hard to imagine! Disco Kid loves the nightlife, hosting parties at his own place or going out to whatever club he can find around town. He just wants to dance and have a good time! Sometimes he'll cruise down the highways going nowhere in particular, blasting his music out of his sports car and flashing the fancy lights he's got, making a real spectacle of himself and his ride.

King Hippo

King Hippo is a simple monarch, and if there aren't any important kingly duties he has to attend to, you can usually find him feasting, resting, or zonked out with a hunk of food still in his hand - best of both worlds! Since coming to the Mainland, he's developed an interest in trying other global cuisines and determining if they compare to his own tastes and what he usually dines on at home. As of now he has determined that spicy foods do not spark joy.

Piston Hondo

Piston Hondo is another who enjoys quiet simplicity. Though he devotes much of his time to meditation and training, he also takes great pleasure in the culinary arts of his culture. He’ll spend hours cooking traditional meals to perfection, and he’s nearly mastered the art of the tea ceremony. Other hobbies include reading (though he’d be hard pressed to tell you what he usually reads), calligraphy, and painting.

Bear Hugger

Bear Hugger’s an outdoorsman, through and through! He spends many hours enjoying the wilderness with his wildlife friends, cooking hearty meals over campfires, hiking through tundras and mountains, and maybe even a game or two of hockey if he’s got the time for it. You could also say boxing’s a bit of a hobby for him - his usual gig is lumberjacking and carpentry!

Great Tiger

Like his friend Hondo, Great Tiger spends much of his time meditating and honing his magical abilities. Speaking of, though he could and has easily sold out arenas to see him perform his wonders, he’d just as soon travel the streets of his hometown and perform tricks for delighted locals free of charge. Like Kaiser, he also takes satisfaction in regularly reorganizing his living space and belongings, just to shake things up.

Don Flamenco

Of course, the obvious answer would be his dancing skills. Which is true! Don Flamenco and Disco Kid often spend nights out at local clubs, where both of them display their abilities for whoever happens to have their eyes on them. But at home, he tends to his flower garden that grows carnations, asters, dahlias, and of course - roses, his pride and joy. Would you believe Don doesn’t mind a little dirt here and there?

Aran Ryan

Aran Ryan’s favorite pastime is, without a doubt, annoying people. Needless to say he’s quite the prankster, lurking around the WVBA gyms for anyone he can mess with, usually some hapless soul just trying to get a workout in. If he’s stuck in the lodgers? Might as well crank his music up as high as it goes to piss off the neighbors! He’s picked up tagging as a hobby too, though mostly keeps it in America.

Soda Popinski

On many days after vigorous training at the WVBA facility, Soda Popinski and his buddy Aran go bar-hopping around town, even if the sun’s still up. Soda’s not drinking liquor anymore, of course, but he does get totally sloshed on soda! Those evenings usually end with both men drunkenly stumbling back to their lodgings, belting pub songs out of key. But on days when he’d rather take it easy, you can find him reading, knitting, or... wrestling bears in the mountains. 

Bald Bull

Whatever he’s doing, Bald Bull values his time spent privately away from the public eye. Visiting hot springs and saunas are a tried and true way for him to relax. Back home he lives near a few foothills with herds of wild cattle, and will spend time bonding (and training) with the bulls there. Plus, he’s good at construction! Does he need another firepit in the backyard? No. Is he making one anyway? He’s already halfway done.

Super Macho Man

Hosting lavish and expensive parties with groupies and other socialites? Check. Calling up one of the many numbers in his phone and taking a lucky lady out for a wild night on the town? Check. Showing up to other parties and events and totally stealing the show? Check, check, check. But what Macho loves most is actually a solo activity, out of the limelight - he loves to surf on his private beach, spending hours catching sun and taming waves.

Mr. Sandman

Mr. Sandman is one of those weirdos who legitimately goes to the gym for fun. Whether lifting weights, using the machines, or getting in some cardio exercises, you can be sure that Sandman’s showing up literally everybody else with how efficient and effortless his routines are. But would you have pegged him as being a science fiction and fantasy fan? He’s got quite the sizable collection of novels!

[redrobin-detective]

Just one single glimpse of relief

TW: OC death, death themes

“Hey,” Sydnee looked up at the sound of the voice. It was familiar, safe, and it stopped her tears for a moment. She can’t remember where she was or what she’d been doing. All she knew was that she was scared and upset and didn’t know what to do. It felt like she’d been crying forever when the voice appeared. “Hey there, it’s Phantom. Can I come closer?”

Sydnee gasped as the town hero, Phantom, approached her slowly. Syd was a bit of a nerd and she couldn’t get enough of those superhero movies. She always tuned in to Phantom’s fights on TV; he was as close as she’d get to a real life Superman or Captain Marvel. She’d never seen him up close before though. He was younger than he appeared on TV, not more than his early teens. Sydnee, almost 24, was hit by a wave of mortification over how they’d described the hunky, we-thought-he-was-older kid on Margarita Night. This day just got better and better, not that she remembered it.

“How are you doing?” Phantom asked quietly, floating near her but not getting too close. He was watching her warily but not unkindly. She saw how some folks treated him, he was probably worried she’d throw a shoe at him. “What’s your name?”

“Sydnee, with an extra e not a y. Uh Tanner, Sydnee Tanner,” she mumbled. Ugh why were words so hard. Her head felt fuzzy and very far away, she thinks she was going to start panicking again. What was she even so upset about? “I don’t know what’s going on. Where are we and what happened. I don’t- I don’t remember anything.”

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly, floating a little closer. The soft glow he emitted brightened up the dark place they were in. Was she in a collapsed tunnel? What had she been doing here? She’d never been claustrophobic but the debris and rubble of the place seemed to close in on her. “Hey, hey, just look at me.” She turned and met his kind eyes, soft and easy. “We’ll walk through it together. What is the last thing you remember?”

“I was late to work,” Syd said, the memory popping up before her. “I um work at the Donut Delights bakery in that strip mall next to the middle school. My cats had knocked over some of my houseplants in the night so I had to clean them up and was running behind. I open the store on Wednesdays - oh it’s Wednesday! - so I knew I’d be in trouble. But I made it, just barely. I was starting up the ovens when.” Syd furrowed her brow and took in the hero before her. The one who was almost never seen outside a fight. “There was a ghost attack, wasn’t there?”

“Welcome to Amity Park,” Phantom said grimly. “I’ve been here a couple times; the jalapeno bacon topped donuts are my favorite. My mom and sister buy them sometimes if they want to bribe me into doing something.”

“You weirdo, only crazy people eat that weird flavor,” Sydnee chuckled. “You have a family?”

“Of course, we all have a family out there somewhere. What about you?” He asked gently. There was something about the soft way he was talking to her, the way his eyes flickered around the dark like he was looking for something. He had news he didn’t want to tell her and she wasn’t ready to hear it. Not yet. Just a few more minutes of denial before she faced the revelation she couldn’t bear to touch yet.

“Yeah, mom and dad and two younger sibs. Folks divorced forever ago, I barely remember them actually being together. Mom is is living it up in Dubai working as a pastry chef in one of their fancy hotels. Dad’s an auto-mechanic down on Maple street, Duke’s Car Services. Pretty sure you got tossed through the window a year ago.”

“I’ve been tossed through many windows but I know the place you’re talking about. So a big family, any friends? Boyfriends? Girlfriends?”

“I have a boyfriend,” she continued on hastily, taking the distraction for what it was. “I like him, a lot and we’ve been dating since high school. Everyone says I should marry him and we’ve talked about it, casually, but I’ve never dated anyone else and wonder if I should see other people first. You know, test the waters before I settle down with my high school sweetheart like my folks did and look how they turned out.”

“Mhmm,” Phantom hummed nodding, encouraging her to continue.

“DeShawn is great though, he’s very supportive and sweet in his own kind of absentminded way. He’s got epilepsy real bad though, I have to drive him everywhere since he’s always at risk of a seizure. Annoying sometimes but its nice, you can learn a lot about a person from a conversation while you’re alone together.”

“Very true, I’m learning a lot now,” Phantom smiled. “What about your siblings?”

“I have a brother and a sister, Kennedy is finishing his sophomore year of college and Janelle will be a senior in high school. She was a surprise baby, one last attempt of my parents to reconcile before the big D. It didn’t help but I got a great sister out of it, she’s a real firecracker.”

“Janelle,” Phantom’s eyes lit up. “She’s the one always dying her hair. I see her in the hallways of Casper, she’s hard to miss. I think she draws too, she won an art award I think.”

“Yeah!” Sydnee said enthusiastically, she reached out and grabbed ahold of Phantom’s arm. It was cold but solid. It reminded her that she really couldn’t feel anything, nothing but him. “Yeah, I swear her hair is a new color every time I see her. It’s a dark purple now, it looks pretty good on her. She was a peachy orange for picture day last year. Mom called her up screaming when she saw the photos.”

“I thought it looked cool,” Phantom grinned, “not that I was there for picture day. Ghost attack, you know. My mom was upset with me too.” They laughed lightly for a minute before it gently petered off leaving them alone in the dark. Sydnee didn’t have any feeling in her toes, in any part of her. She felt light and disconnected and all over out of sorts. She was pretty sure she knew what had happened but she couldn’t face it yet. But talking to Phantom, it seemed a little easier.

“I remember the attack now,” Sydnee stated quietly. “It was a big ghost bear only it was the size of a pickup truck. It rammed into the store there was chaos and screaming. It was so loud, the screaming of the customers, the bear, building coming down on top of us...” her lips wobbled. “We’re still in the store, aren’t we? I haven’t wanted to turn around because... because I know my body is buried underneath the concrete back there.”

“Yeah,” Phantom breathed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get here in time. Most everyone in the area got out but you and a few others in the store got trapped under the rubble. Mrs. McDaniels who lived on Eustis street and was the first woman in her family to go to college plus Eddie Drake who came down from Chicago to check out the ghost stuff with their boyfriend and was a tattoo artist.”

“Did you talk to them too?” She questioned in surprise.

“Briefly, Mrs. McDaniels didn’t stay long, just long enough to tell me, and I quote, “stop wasting time on her dead ass and get to the others.” She already passed on. Eddie, they didn’t take it well. We talked for a while and I think they need a little more time to accept it, see their loved ones first. I warned them that the longer they delay death, the harder it is and the more you lose yourself. You’re the last, all the way in the back of the store. When you’re ready, I’m going to bring your body out.”

“Thank you,” she whispered before breaking out into hysterical laughter. “God I bet I’m a wreck, I think I put my shirt on inside out I was in such a rush this morning,” she sniffled. “What do I do now, as a ghost? I don’t have to, like, attack people, do I?”

“No,” Phantom sighed. “Most ghosts are just normal people, no one else but other ghosts will see you and you’re not going to be strong enough to interact with the real world for a long, long time. You can stick around a bit if you want, watch over your family but it’s like I told Eddie, you forget things pretty quick. Or you can move on, that part I can’t help you with but I’ve helped a lot of others go that route and I’m told it’s easy.”

“Easy, then why haven’t you?” She questioned angrily, the full weight of the situation crashing over her. She shoved him and he floated back passively. “I’m a freaking ghost and you’re here talking to me like you’re my therapist or something. Who’s gonna take DeShawn to his appointments? Or praise my sister’s creative messes? Or badger Ken into picking major? My life is over and you think you can float there and lecture me about it being easy to move on!”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Phantom soothed, scratching at the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry Sydnee, I wish I could turn back the clock an hour, two hours, and prevent this from happening but I can’t. I’ve tried to mess with time and it doesn’t end well for anyone. I just want, I just want what’s best for you now. You can stay or you can go but I want you to make the decision that you feel most comfortable with. That’s all I can do for you.”

“I think I’d be sad,” she said, crying again, “being able to see everyone but not talk to them, to watch them cry over me. I don’t want to forget them either.” Phantom watched her, easily and earnestly. “What made you choose to stay? Why didn’t you go?”

“I’m a little complicated but I can tell you, when I’ve done all I need to here, I’m not hanging around a second longer than I have to. Being a ghost has it’s perks but it’s also, it’s being stuck in a place you longer fit, watching the world go on without you.”

“Okay,” Syd hiccupped. “Okay, yeah okay.”

“Okay,” Phantom nodded. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No, please don’t,” she grabbed his hands again. “Please I don’t, I know I died alone but I don’t want to do... this alone. Please stay, ugh, calling you Phantom is weird sorry.”

“I don’t know if it’s any less weird but you can call me Danny,” Phantom, Danny, laughed. It was an ordinary name for a superhero but it fit. There was a special thrill in knowing the ghost boy’s name but it’s not like she was going to be around to tell anyone. It was scary, to think of not existing but also sort of comforting, like a long nap with nothing pressing to get up for.

“Can you tell them that I love them, in my place? I know it’s a lot and I’m sure you’re super busy saving the town and everything-”

"It’s not a problem. I’m sure they know but I’ll be happy to pass on the message,” he smiled and it made him look so young. For a second she was struck by how sad it was that she was relying on a kid a decade younger than her for support. But he was here and he was kind and he was what she needed right now. Maybe one day, he’d have his own person talking him through this last step. 

“Okay, Danny, thanks really. For talking, for staying. I’m scared but I, I think I’m ready.” She closed her eyes and squeezed his hands tightly. “Do you, will it hurt?”

“No,” he said, his voice warm despite his inherent chill. “No, Sydnee. No, the hurting is all over now. All you have left ahead of you is peace. Thank you for all that did, you’ll be missed.”

“I’ll see you on the other side. Goodbye.” The world faded to a pinprick, consumed by light. The last thing she saw before she went into it was a stranger’s smile. 

XxX

“Here’s the last,” Phantom said solemnly, delicately setting a broken body he’d carried out of the dilapidated building and on the sidewalk next to the others. “This is Sydnee Tanner, she was the only employee in the store at the time. She has cats at home who will need taking care of. Her dad works at Duke’s Car Services along with siblings and a boyfriend.”

“Don’t know how you know all that but thanks for getting these folks out,” Sheriff Newton sighed. “Damn shame. Keep up the good work kid, we’ll save the next ones for sure. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some rather unhappy news to break to several people.”

“Do you mind if I tag along? I have a few messages I need to pass on.”

[simsadventures]

Gilded: Chapter 2: Our House (The Mess We’ve Made)

Mobster! Steve x Reader

Summary: Steve doesn’t like to be questioned, and you learn that the hard way. When he wants something, he gets it, and now he wants to have everything over with as quickly as possible. But there are a few bumps on the road. 

Warnings: mafia au, swearing, violence, blood, threats, violence on women, slight mention of a rape, fluff, I mean, Steve is very demanding here, but it’s a theme so… 

Word Count: 6087

A/N: I’m beyond excited that you guys liked the first chapter so much and are giddy for the next one. So, here we have it. More of our arranged couple and more mafia stuff. Let me know what you thought, and again, thank you for reading! xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist 

< Previous Chapter 

“You did what? Are you fucking kidding me right now? Y/N, I love you, but you must have hit your head real hard because this is not like you, at all,” Caroline reasoned, but you could see she was close to losing it completely. 

They were both waiting for you to come home that night, and you first had to make sure neither of them would talk about anything you were about to reveal. You trusted both of them with your life, that wasn’t the issue, but you were afraid that if they talked outside of your apartment, Steve might know and the things he could do to them would be the core of your future nightmares, you were sure of it. When they finally agreed, you got to explaining. But you didn’t even get a full sentence out before they started jumping in it, asking questions and wildly swatting their hands, trying to make you see just how stupid of an idea it actually was. 

“Do you think I don’t know it sounds insane? I do, but also like, it’s gonna take care of so many issues, and, I mean, all he needs from me, as far as I understood it, is to go to a few events with him, go to some vacations with him and that would be all. I mean, I can still have the job I actually enjoy and don’t have to slave in that fucking pub with all those weirdos, and I won’t have to worry about money,” you tried to sound reasonable and sensible, but from the looks on your best friends’ faces, you weren’t doing too good of a job. 

“Right, right, cool. So, you wanna tell me that the most notorious fucking mobster in America will let you live here, with us, while he parades you around the city at night? Or that he doesn’t have enemies you should worry about? Or what about the fucking police, Y/N, huh? Have you thought of that? You will be affiliated with a known criminal, and they will start to notice you and your life won’t be as easy as you picture it,” Aidan sighed and massaged his temples, the stress of it all getting the best of him. 

You sat down next to them and smiled at them fondly. It was sweet that they worried so much about you, and just the mere thought that there were people on this planet who gave a shit about you, even to the point of yelling at you at 11 PM on Wednesday night was heartwarming. You understood their reservations, you really did, but you also knew this all before you said yes to Steve. You knew it wouldn’t be as easy, and while you weren’t sure whether you would have to live with Steve in Manhattan or somewhere else, or if he let you just be on your own, you knew you could take it. The police didn’t scare you, you’ve had enough training in diverting the police from yourself, so the police was the last thing on your mind. Besides, you were signing petitions left and right to defund them, so… You were pretty sure they already knew your name from the demonstrations in front of their precincts. 

Enemies were a bit more challenging to handle, but you were sure Steve wouldn’t want his new wife to die on his watch. How would that look for him? So really, all that was at stake was your sanity and your integrity, and thinking about it, Steve didn’t ask you to do something illegal. The only thing he wanted from you was to be a good girl, marry him and be by his side. And you could do that. And you were only human, Steve was a sight to behold, so you didn’t mind being connected to him, even though he specifically told you he wasn’t attracted to you. 

That one still stung, but maybe it was for the better. You wouldn’t have to worry about doing something stupid when the other party was completely uninterested, and knowing it, you could just never let your body have even a minor crush on him, so the situation really resolved itself even before anything could have happened. 

“I really think I can gain more than I can lose, you guys. I didn’t imagine my life being like this, far from it, and maybe Steve and his money can help me get where I want. And I won’t even have to sleep with him or anybody else. He even talked about putting a no-sex clause in our contract so that I would be safe even on paper. You always tell me that I’m not taking enough risks and that I stay rooted in my comfort zone. Well, this is quite the improvement, isn’t it?” You laughed, and they both just shook their heads but chuckled nevertheless. 

“You are a psychopath, babe,” Aidan muttered but gave you a side hug, and Caroline soon joined. 

“We love you and worry about you, that’s all. But if you feel good about this, then so do we. I just hope he’s ready for our wrath if anything even remotely bad happens to you,” Caroline said, and the three of you started to laugh. You would bet somebody like Steve would be scared shitless from two 20-something-year-olds who, one who was scared of wasps so much she almost fainted every time she saw one, and the other having a hard time peeling a grapefruit. Yup, they were the combat duo you would bet your money on in a fight, for sure. 

Waking up, you had a good feeling about the decision, even more so than the night before. You had mulled it over and over in your head, seeing that this was the way out of everything and also your way to a lot of those things you wanted to have by now. You even thought of the saying, sometimes, the only way out is through, and this was your through. There was no foreseeable way of getting out of debt, of getting out of the depression caused by your hectic and unsatisfying life. Your way through it was accepting Steve’s money and his help for a year, freeing you from the shackles of your current life, in a sense. 

That it would come with a different kind of shackled you were sure of, but everything was better than your life now because you really couldn’t even call it a life. You wanted so many things, see so many places, but the world wasn’t made for the people playing by the rules, slaving in their ordinary jobs. No, this capitalist world was made for sharks, and you had been disguised as a sheep for too long. 

When you got to the gallery, you were welcomed by a sight that surprised you, and not in a good way. Where you were used to sitting every day for the past two years was another girl. She was pretty, and you bet she was wonderful, but at that very moment, all you saw was that somebody replaced you. 

You swiftly unlocked the door and walked in, the girl standing up immediately to greet you with a shy smile and a wave. You couldn’t be a complete bitch to her, after all, this was way above her pay grade. So, you just nodded and strode towards the offices where the director sat. 

“Good morning, Ms Y/L/N. I see you have met Laura, our new receptionist. And before you say anything, I just wanted to tell you that we appreciate everything you had done for this gallery for so long and that we thought it was time for you to learn some other skills, as you are more than capable of that,” he smiled warmly, and you weren’t sure if it was a nice way of saying you were let go of, or if you were promoted. 

“What does that mean, Mr Jones?” You asked incredulously, not really in the mood to search in between the lines. 

“You have become my personal secretary, Ms Y/L/N. Congratulations! I know you have the aspiration of becoming a curator, so, this way, you could get a little closer to art even though there is still some way to go, naturally,” he winked and chuckled, and you let yourself relax with the news. 

Wow! Your life was already taking a turn for the better, and all you had to was to go with your gut and risk a little. You wanted to laugh out loud at the universe and its mysterious ways of working. But, thinking of mysterious, your mind suddenly pictured Steve and his devilish smirk, and your smile faltered. 

“And may I ask, why now? Don’t get me wrong, I’m extremely grateful for the chance, and I will do my best to succeed in expectations. I just wonder what happened that the chance has come now?” 

Mr Jones scratched the back of his neck, and you gritted your teeth. You already knew that it wasn’t the universe praising you for your bravery. No, this had nothing to do with the universe. 

“More things have come together, to be quite honest, Ms Y/L/N. First, my long-time secretary left for her maternity leave a few weeks ago, as you might remember, and I have been looking for her replacement ever since. And I forgot what an amazing student we had here, who is already established with the clients and with our partners, and that this will be a win-win situation for everybody. And your fiancée was quite adamant that your resumé is remarkable and that I should give you a chance,” he smiled and piled gathered in your throat. 

How Steve managed to persuade Jones to do this was beyond you when you left him only a few hours ago, most of which were during the night, so there wasn’t much room for negotiation between the parties. You just hoped people wouldn’t start treating you differently when they realised your affiliation. That was the only thing you obviously didn’t think through: the opinion of the society. And since the New York society had been one of the most judging and selective ones even back in the 19th and 20th century, you knew not that much has changed since. People were afraid of Steve, with a good reason too, and now they might become frightened of you too. Fucking awesome. 

“I want to assure you that my fiancée won’t be present in my work life, however notorious he is,” you tried to sound as confident in what you were saying as you could, but you weren’t sure if you were doing a good job. But Mr Jones just smiled and sat down, signalling for you to sit down opposite of him, and he started talking about business and about what the job actually was. And while you tried to give him your full attention, there was this angry voice in your head, ready to bite Rogers’ head off. He would meet your famous wrath sooner than you thought, but it was all his fault anyway. 

The job was, actually, quite impressive. As your boss told you, you got to meet several artists already, you could sit in the meeting where they decided what kind of art the gallery was interested in, and you soaked all that in like a sponge. You were radiating by the end of the day, and the wrath subsided a little, but only till the moment, you saw a black SUV parked in front of the gallery and one of the turtlenecks standing beside it. 

You decided that if Steve could do what he wanted, so could you and so you walked in the opposite direction than was the car, leaving the turtleneck yelling your name and running after you. But you ignored him completely, even when he reached you and patted your shoulder, slightly bewildered that you recognised him and still decided not to do as he said. Oh, these obnoxious mobsters needed to learn that they couldn’t get everything they wanted. 

“Miss Y/L/N, please, you need to come with me. Mr Rogers is waiting for you in the car,” he said, and you finally stopped and looked him deep in the eyes while you folded your arms across your chest. You hoped you looked intimidating, but since the guy was wearing a pair of sunglasses you couldn’t be entirely sure whether it worked. But you didn’t relent and just stared him down, and when he shifted uncomfortably, you knew you were winning this contest. 

“Would you please come with me? Mr Rogers hates to wait,” he mumbled the last thing, and you would have snickered if you weren’t so determined to be the tough guy there. It was only when you heard other footsteps somewhere behind you, and the guy in front of you actually flinched that you realised the big boss himself was there to get you. 

“No, Mr Rogers really doesn’t like to wait, Y/N. Is this the way to treat your fiancée?” Steve asked when he reached you, and you shuddered from the poisonous undertone in his voice. Safe to say, it might not have been the best strategy to try and walk away from him, but you had decided for it once, and now you were gonna stand by your decision. 

“Oh, I don’t know, darling,” you hissed but continued before he could comment on your behaviour, “is intimidating my boss to give me a promotion a way to treat me? You really think you have control over everything and everyone, Steve, but let me tell you something. This is my fucking life, and you have no fucking right to march in and do as you please!”

He just raised a brow, and his nostrils flared before you felt his hand on your upper arm, squeezing it so tightly you were sure your arm wasn’t getting any blood. But you didn’t want him to win, which would definitely happen if you pleaded with him, so you just gritted your teeth and stared him down. Steve nodded at the guys around him to leave you two, and they took a few steps back, sure enough to protect their boss but to give him at least some privacy with you. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are, talking to me in that tone, huh? I think you’ll understand soon enough that disobedience is punished greatly here, honey! So, stop acting like a brat who gets off from causing scenes in public and come with me. And, for your information, this is a fucking order, and I dare you to move from me again,” Steve spat in your ear, and you trained your eyes on the ground. 

Well, not your best idea, you had to admit that, and you valued your own head enough to just shut up and follow him. And by following him, you meant walking beside him because Steve obviously didn’t trust you enough to let go of your arm, even if his grip loosened slightly. 

He thrust you in the car with a force that could scare many, but it only just slightly surprised you. When he finally sat down next to you, he bid the driver to just go and stared out of the window, not addressing you in any shape or form, and you huffed in annoyance. 

“Look, Steve, you brought me here for a reason, so what do you want? I thought we agreed to meet tomorrow and not today, in broad daylight in front of my job.”

“Show some respect!” He roared, and you saw the eyes of the bodyguards, or whatever they were, flick towards you in fear. It was funny how such huge men were clearly so afraid of one of them. You remained calm, however, and just remained looking at him. Then you realised something. He didn’t mind your mouth the night before that much when the two of you were alone, but he couldn’t stand it when people were around. He needed to be the man, his people needed to know that nobody treated him differently and that not even his future wife could disobey him, let alone publicly. You swallowed your pride and shifted your gaze elsewhere. 

“I’m sorry, Steve, I’ve had a long day, and I’m taking it on you now. I just wished you spoke to me before you called my boss, but still, thank you for the opportunity,” you muttered meekly, and the triumphant look on Steve’s face spoke volumes. He just hummed and patted your shoulder, his own shoulders slacking and relaxing. These people were so easy to read, you were actually quite astounded that they weren’t played like violins by some secret agents or something like that. Well, you thought, at least you could play them, and it would make your life a little easier if you did it well enough. 

“I came because we needed to discuss more things, honey. I had a pressing matter to attend to yesterday so I couldn’t stay longer, but I have the whole afternoon reserved just for you today, so we can go over all the parts of our agreement in great detail and that we can start planning our wedding,” he flashed you a smile, and it was your time to tense up because if you were to have a wedding soon, which was clearly something Steve wanted, you needed to get a move on and that stressed you out. The arrangement might have been just for a year, but you knew that Steve’s wedding was supposed to be magnificent, showing all that he obtained and all that the mere mortals couldn’t have. You included. 

But then you realised something. 

“Sure, but I need to take care of something first if you don’t mind,” you added quickly seeing the mobster next to you tensing up again. “As I no longer work at Joey’s pub, I need to get my things from there. My boss called me this morning telling me that I still had my work shoes and other stuff there and that I should pick it up or they’ll throw it away.” 

“Just give the address to the driver, we’ll get it, and then we’ll go to my place- oh, excuse me- our place and discuss what we need,” he said simply, and you followed his orders. 

The rest of the drive was silent, and you could unwind a little, reminisce about the 24 hours you have had. From taking the subway anywhere you needed to, to driving in an armoured SUV with the most prolific mafia boss of the USA, your life took quite the turn. You needed to set some boundaries with Steve, but you needed to do it tactfully and, most importantly, alone. You hadn’t known him at all, but you knew the type. There would be reasoning with him as long as he thought he had a free choice and knew that his position wasn’t neither threatened nor questioned.  

This was a part of your agreement that you actually didn’t mind. Joey’s pub was not the fanciest of places in New York and while some of the customers were lovely and tipped well, the weekend sort was made of sleazy assholes who would touch you without your permission and not having to be around them would definitely be something you could get used to. 

The boss who’s name wasn’t Joey, surprise, surprise, but Thomas, nodded your way when you came in. The pub was only half full, but the odour of mixed sweat, beer and vomit was ever the same. Gosh, how you couldn’t wait to be out of there. 

Taking the places of the little box by the box with beer cans, you scanned the supply closet one last time and nodded as a goodbye. However, when you turned around, you bumped into somebody, and it sent you flying back a bit as you didn’t expect anybody to be there with you. You looked up to see Thomas standing there, looking pissed. 

“Funny! I never knew you were on the market, pussycat. And now I find out you are newly engaged and to Mr Rogers no less? I thought you said you didn’t want a relationship,” he sneered as he neared you and you instinctively took a step back. That he had a crush on you, you knew, and you told him multiple times that you weren’t interested, that you weren’t looking for a boyfriend and that you just wanted to be left alone. You scoffed at his immature behaviour now and tried to push around him without saying a word because you knew there was no talking to people like him. But he wouldn’t let you go, of course. 

“Maybe if I fucked you, you would see that I deserve you just as much, huh?” He hissed and took your already sore arm, yanking you towards him till you were pressed tight against his chance. You still remained calm, knowing that trashing and screaming would get you nowhere. 

“Let me go, Thomas. Steve is outside, and he is waiting for me, so I suggest you take your disgusting hands off of me and just let me go,” you tried to reason, but, again, there was no such thing with dumbasses like him. What was more, he probably didn’t like your remark about his disgusting hands, and so, without warning, he slapped you right across your left cheek. 

That made you gasp for the first time because till then, you really thought he was just playing and that he would let you go, but now seeing the bewildered look on his face, you suddenly realised that maybe you didn’t have the upper hand in the argument. 

“Like fuck he is, what would Rogers do in these parts, huh? I bet it wasn’t even him who called me last night and that you were just trying to get the upper hand. But guess what, you fucking whore, you are not getting out of here until I fuck you unconscious,” he roared and you gulped, trying to think of possible escape routes. But you were in a fucking supply closet, so there was literally just the one door, and Thomas was occupying the whole space in front of it. So, you’d just have to fight your way through. You were a little rusty, but this big-bellied idiot would stand no chance. 

But before you had the opportunity to execute your plan, the door behind him flew open and revealed one fo the turtlenecks (you made a mental note to actually learn their names because this was just awkward) and a very angry-looking Steve. 

Thomas faltered in his movement towards you and checked who had the audacity to interrupt him. The shock and fear on his face were priceless. 

Steve didn’t waste any more time as he lunged himself at the man and punched him straight in the nose, and the sickening crack you heard must have meant Steve broke it. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care enough to pity Thomas. You warned him, even though you didn’t expect Steve actually coming to your rescue. There were some advantages to being tied to him, it seemed. 

The turtleneck then took Steve’s place by Thomas, probably so that he wouldn’t escape and Steve marched towards you, still looking too pissed for you to stand calmly under his searching gaze. 

“Did he hurt you?” He sneered but didn’t wait for your reply as he checked your face, seeing your puffed left cheek which told him all he needed to know. The bruise already forming on your arm was both from him and from Thomas, so he didn’t comment on that, but Steve wiped the trickle of blood in the corner of your mouth before he turned around and now calmly walked towards Thomas. 

“Next time that degenerated brain of yours even thinks of her, I will come and slice your throat. Am I clear?” Steve spat into Thomas’s face who just nodded, probably glad that he got out of it so easily. What he didn’t see coming (and to be honest, neither did you) was the turtleneck suddenly pulled out a big-ass knife out of somewhere and the air filled with the bone-chilling cries as he cut Thomas’ finger off as if it was the most normal thing to do before he wiped the knife on Thomas’s shirt and tucked it back in his pocket. The blood flowing from the wound was thick and almost purple, and you had to shut your eyes at the scene. But the image was already seared into your brain forever. 

“Fucking rapist,” Steve said and kicked the already laying man, motioning to the turtleneck and you that you were to follow him. But your legs weren’t listening to your brain, as you were just watching Thomas writhing in pain, wailing and sobbing, and all that because he dared to touch you. An involuntary shudder shook your body, and it as only when you felt an arm around your torso, pulling you to the person’s side that you woke up. Steve didn’t say anything as he came back and wrapped his arm around you, walking you out of there, probably used to that people were dazed when they saw that much blood. And that was just a cut-off finger, how would it look if a person actually bled out there?

“Here, have a piece of chocolate, it should help you,” Steve whispered into your ear as he handed you a little piece when you finally made it to his car, and you took it without question, savouring the sweet taste on your tongue as it streamed into your system like the most delicious medicine. You took a deep breath, your brain recognising that it was a different environment and that the stench of the pub was long gone as was the blood. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you heard yourself saying meekly, but there was no reprimanding him, there was no anger in your voice and Steve heard that. He knew it was the shock of the scene talking because you weren’t one of them. You didn’t see blood on an almost daily basis as he did and you had the right to be surprised. 

“I actually had to, Y/N. He touched you, he hurt you and nobody hurts what’s mine. And you are mine now or will be very soon, and I can’t have dickheads like him running around the city thinking they are invincible. You are under my protection, and the whole world has to realise that,” he tried to make you see his point, and when you nodded solemnly, he saw you understood it. You might not have been ok with it, but that was another thing, and that would take time. Steve hoped people wouldn’t be so dumb and try anything on you, but, the truth be told, inwardly he knew he would have to protect you more often than not because some people had a death wish. 

“Are you up to discussing our marriage, or do you want me to drive you home?” He asked, and you looked at him for the first time since the pub scene. You shook your head and chuckled a little, not understanding where was this coming from. It was apparent that there were many layers to Steve Rogers, but his mood swings were giving you a headache already. One second he was the infamous mobster and the other he impersonated a caring boyfriend? 

“I’m fine, Steve, thank you. I was just taken by surprise because I thought I would have to take him down myself, and I probably wouldn’t cut off his finger in the process, but we all do our things. I’m good for a discussion, if you are,” you gave him your best encouraging smile and Steve stared at you in disbelief for a moment before he averted his eyes towards the driver and gave him a signal that he was to take you two to Steve’s mansion. 

Three hours later, you regretted your decision greatly. Steve and you had been talking the whole time, trying to reach a compromise that would be suitable for both of you considering your marriage and your wedding. You were quite surprised when Steve came up with things that were up for discussion because you really thought he would just come with a set of rules for you to follow, and that would be it. Well, the set of rules was there, but so were other things, like where you’d like to live (it was either the New York mansion which he called the apartment or some villa he had in Hamptons, apparently), what were the countries he could take you (which was actually a nice touch) and others. You didn’t give a damn about a lot of the stuff, but the countries were something that caught your attention. 

“I would love to visit different places, that’s beyond doubt, but I do not wish to be taken to California, ever,” you insisted, and while Steve tried to inquire why it was that California was on your hard-no list, you wouldn’t budge. You just told him that you weren’t a fan of the hot weather and the swarm of people you heard was in LA and that it was the only place where you wouldn’t go with him, under no circumstances. After a while, he gave up and just jotted it down with a nod. 

“Now, to the sex thing, do you want it on paper that I don’t want you in this way or are you good with my word?” 

You felt your cheeks heating up, but you tossed your pride away again. This was a business meeting, and Steve was actually extremely honest with you, so the best you could do was to be frank with him as well. 

“I’m good with your word, thank you for asking. What I’d like on paper is that you won’t trade me with information. I don’t wanna wake up one morning to be chained by some of your pistol-buddies who wanted to fuck Steve’s wife,” you raised a brow, and Steve chuckled and licked his lips, which was something that got your attention. You snapped at your brain to stop the thought flooding your brain, and a part of you considered putting licking his own lips around you on the hard-no’s list for a second. 

“Alright, I will never do that, and I will put that in our contract. Now, have you decided where you want to live? And no, your own apartment isn’t an answer. I’m willing to pay the expenses so that your friends can stay there, but you are coming to live with me, either here or in Hamptons. So, which one is it?” 

“Here,” you answered after a while, “I have my job here so I can’t be going back forth to Hamptons every day. Speaking of my job, will you require my presence at every meeting? I’m just asking if I even have a chance attaining my job as is, or if I should quit now because you will never let me go there again.” 

“I would have let them fire you if I thought about not letting you work there anymore, now, wouldn’t I? Most of the meetings that I will need you are at night, so your work is fine. I hope your boss will give you enough vacation days because we will need those, but other than that, I think you will be fine at the gallery. Besides, I’ve assigned a personal bodyguard for you who will go everywhere with you, so you won’t have to worry about anybody attacking you,” he concluded, looking proud of himself. You, on the other hand, were bewildered. 

“A personal what now? Steve, I can’t just show up at work with some huge guy in all black following me everywhere I move. I saw the looks from some of my coworkers, and they would never accept me if I had a bodyguard, c’mon,” you were desperate now because just the thought made you shudder. 

“This is not negotiable, so just learn to live with it. Alright, I think that’s all from that, and we will both sign it before the wedding. Now, the wedding will be next week. I already hired planners, so that the only thing you need to care about is the wedding dress. It’s just for a show, and if it were up to me, we would just go to the city hall, but the world needs to see this wedding, so we’re doing it in the Weylin. Write down your favourite colours and flowers, the cake will be red velvet, and that’s not negotiable, but everything else you want, you write down, and the planners will do it. Also, write down all the guests you’d like to invite, family and all that, so we know how many guests we’re having,” Steve rambled on, but your mind wandered towards your family. 

None of them would be attending the wedding, and your heart gave a painful tug at the thought. You had always wanted your dad to walk you down the aisle, and he was so excited to do so, but now that wasn’t possible. And your beautiful mother… The memories made your eyes water, but you blinked the tears away quickly enough so that Steve wouldn’t see them. But he was used to reading people, so he saw your reaction to him mentioning a family very clearly, he just decided against commenting on it. Yet. 

“Alright, I’ll send you all the lists by Saturday, if that’s good enough, and I’m actually good with red velvet. It would be a problem if you said some cakes with loads of nuts because I’m extremely allergic to a majority of those, you should know about that, but red velvet is fine enough,” you nodded, and Steve did as well, glad he didn’t have to fight you on that one. Not that it would be a fruitful fight since the red velvet was his favourite type of cake on Earth. 

“I want you to move in before the wedding, I’ll have a room set up for you tomorrow, and you can bring whatever you want from your home. You will have access to my credit card, but I’m warning you, excessive spending will not be tolerated, alright?” 

You scoffed and rolled your eyes but bowed your head in mocked understanding. Steve had obviously spent his life with women only caring about the sum on his credit card, while you couldn’t care less. The card would be good for the wedding dress, but that was about it. You realised a long time ago that the fashion industry was one of the most dangerous ones for the environment, and while you still shopped from time to time, you tried to reduce it to a minimum. And if you did shop, you loved local stores and fair-trade manufacturers, who vowed to keep the well-being of the planet their number one priority. 

“I’ll take it that you understood it. Fine, so, you’ll move in tomorrow, I think my people can manage it till that. So, they’ll pick you up, let’s say, around 8 PM? That enough time?” 

You blinked and took the information in. He wanted you to move in tomorrow. Not in a week so you’d have time to actually pack and say goodbye to your friends, even if you still planned on meeting them every other day or so. You wanted a goodbye sleepover where you’d just laugh and drink and hope that the year would be a good one. Or, at least, not a disastrous one. 

“That’s definitely not enough time, Steve. Can’t it wait till next week? I need to say goodbye to my friends, and it’s already late, so we can’t do it tonight and just… Give me at least till Saturday evening, Steve, please,” you tried to bargain, and while you saw he wasn’t the greatest of fans, he agreed eventually. That ended your discussion, and you were soon driven away from the house you would soon call yours.

/ Next Chapter >

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