#But anyway I mistimed it slightly so I had to take a bit of an extra walk around the block to experience the ending | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tofumedic · 3 years

Note

hewo! for the affections number.. 16 is so cute.. would u be able to do headcanons of all the demon bros with it? if not, can u pls do levi then !

The Brothers + Simeon with #16!

16. taking a photo of them smiling or in their element

(lucifer's is here from a previous ask! and bc of that i added simeon only for having some lil funnies i hope you dont mind <3!!!)

Mammon

His collection is the largest, he flaunts it like collectables like cars or like Levi's figures. It is literally one of his biggest flexes and will use them like trading cards never wanting to send them in group chats or privately bc he took those ones get your own human >:(!

He will however hold his phone directly in one of their faces, waving the screen around to show how he has so many good ones.

He uses them for call screens, his lock screen, his home screen, any widget he can other than the Goldie one. He's a menace about it but do not call him out on it he will buy a second phone to use in the public.

Anyways, anyways for actually taking photos..

Mammon always takes too many, as in he will take a bunch within the same timespan because he doesn't trust his hands not to shake, so if he just takes a lot at one time so he can delete the others and save the best ones

But he just ends up keeping all of them, just favoriting the best or separating them into two albums of "valuables" and "treasures" depending on the quality.

Usually they will all have a small blur, him too excited at seeing whatever expression you wear, whether its a smile at seeing him purposely acting dumb or you enjoying a hobby.

He feeds a lot of unfiltered second hand serotonin off of you! Please do not disturb his "I have just had a very bad brotherly bonding experience, I must cope by looking at my photos of my human- No I'm not smiling already shut up"

Leviathan

Levi will use photos of you like wholesome memes so they carry the same energy as the hang in there cat poster, using different heart overlays and nice quotes

His are also a mixture of blurry but also high quality photos, for ones he takes.

This is because seeing you so dedicated or when you smile in his direction, his heart does this weird jumpstart the palpitations making him feel heavy yet light at the same time almost like a peach and its pit.

But he has a preference to use either this small tripod(he has it as a preparation for going to live shows) or a timer so its set away from him as he calls you over, its his own little trap.

His favorite, the majority of his collection, are those! It's photos of you being in frame with him in it as well because there's just something about how all that happiness of yours is completely focused on him, your smile as you walk over towards him sometimes blurry and mistimed so its only you entering the corner of the screen but you can tell how he takes your attention.

When getting in fights about who has the best photos, he will drop ones that are different hugs of him in your arms like he was a newly one plush. Mammon especially gets pissy about these as well as Belphie and Asmo.

If you can't turn your camera on when he calls or if he is locked in a raid that they're losing he would ask you for a selfie also, never requesting anything special other than just yourself but his favorite is when you send just smiles or videos of the which character are you filter :]!

Satan

Satan often tries to hide it, saying he's taking a photo of himself or checking his hair, maybe even going as far as saying the text on his study notes are too small so he has to hold it in front of his face so close.

Think about cowboys, shooting from the waist. That's him when you're too far away, maybe with a brother or during class or eating. He will scribble out his brother or purposely have the other cropped out of the shot.

He does have a lot of you when you're just turning around to face him and then your reaction, he can't resist the temptation of taking your attention when he's bored or waiting for his next book order to come in before he goes back to the cat behavior of only seeking out attention when he deems it necessary and otherwise pleased for a period of time.

He loves the ones where you look at him before he's ready, these are just slightly shaky from him jumping or pressing the button in an embarrassed panic at your smug yet happy expression.

Has definitely done the cut a hole in a newspaper and put his camera to it to look out like it was some camouflage but he's first, smiling much too hard and trying not to laugh at it, and second had seen it in multiple old movies and shows you had watched together.

Satan, speaking of movies, quite enjoys you in low light. On movie nights where your face is only illuminated by the projector screen and the photos turn out a bit grainy, there's something so romantic about you just existing in such an atmosphere. These ones he does like more when you're focused, looking far off with a small pleasant smile on your face at the soft plot of tonight's pick.

Asmodeus

Asmo will send you them all the time, he's like your own personal Devilgram manager he will even edit them for you and send the before and after of those photos too (MC: when did u take these??? Asmo: ,';p)

He will always have such good angles of you, from your side, from above or below, a 3/4, or full portrait, your silhouette. He may have one for each basic one at least though his favorites are above and below, these are the most personal feeling to him.

Usually these come as him trying to get your attention, bothering you with his phone and purposely leaving the little shutter noise on so you hear every single one while you're just trying to watch a DevilTube video or do something else.

Him snuggled into your side post cuddle just to lean up, phone in his hand and a menacing giggle, it's the first thing you see waking from your drowsy state is him on top of you trying to get cute pictures that he can use as teases as if something else was in progress.

Or ones where you roll on top of him, just trying to get up to see the dumb little flash as an alarm instead of his cute good morning kisses to your face(those are actually used to buy more time with you because he is allowed to be a little selfish as a treat)

He also has them set as his lockscreen and homescreen, these being photos of you together so he can have the best of both worlds, himself and your happy smiling face. He just finds it so cute, whenever you want an audience to see it he's in the first row.

Sends them to the group chat with his brothers to start some chaos

"My~ Isn't my dearest MC just the cutest?" Asmo has sent 28 attachments.

Beelzebub

His collection isn't one of the best out there but it is unique and keeps him content and happy, pleased.

He likes having photos of you for when you two are separated, it makes you feel closer to him and him to you

His may have some of the least blur, hands steady you work on something separately yet aware of the soft stare that was bearing into the side of your head.

He may forget sometimes about the sound so when you get the rare notification from his electronic betrayer it is free power to tease him, asking him if he wanted your attention or if he just took a photo of you and to be honest, then his photos if you let him continue for that setting are a little blurrier on your fine details. He's embarrassed.

He likes these more than ones with just your smile because then he isn't as satisficed because then he's thinking about how nice it looks in person and your laugh and when you let out a sigh being tired from your work, it'll be a cycle until he gives up and goes to see you in person.

But he likes the ones of you in your element very much and photos of you in general, saying that looking at them makes him feel "full"

He means to say complete, he's content and pleased and delighted and he has a reminder of you existing, that you're real and not a midnight sleep walk hallucination.

Belphegor

He has the smallest collection but next to rest, Beel, and his appearance he is mostly focused on capturing photos of you when he can.

He didn't get to really know you as long as his brothers have so its only fair he gets to spend more time with you than them until he's equal, and then some because you're really comfy and you make his twin happy? and then on top of that you make this face when you are concentrated and you smile different depending on if you're gonna laugh or if you're confident.

There's so much he has to memorize, he's rather demanding with having the attention so he may continue this personal agenda of his.

A lot of them are from similar angles, from laying with him in different positions but everything feeling relatively the same, normal. These are usually after he has woken up, not before he goes to bed so either it's your soft good morning smile, or your surprised "how long have you been awake" face, or you still asleep on your own.

Many of them often have his bed head just barely visible at the bottom, usually having laid on top of you and just using his selfie camera and angling it up to see you take up more of the screen.

For just being a pillow that moves a lot you definitely are photogenic.

He doesn't send his photos of you to chats but will save photos sent of you from everyone except Lucifer.

Simeon

PLEASE applaud.

It takes him such a long time, but Solomon gave him the idea saying it was something sweet you would also enjoy the concept of. So he is doing his best.

He will see you, just existing and his heart will swell, needing to pause a moment before kindly asking you to hold that thought and pose as he turns on his phone, maneuvering to the camera and trying to get it to focus on you perfectly.

It takes him a few minutes every time but he is getting better at it but his reaction is always the same, smiling at you showing up on his phone screen waiting for the picture to be taken.

He never can be sneaky about it unless he asks for help to get your photo, sending Luke on his biggest mission yet, a photo after he asks you what you thought of Simeon's cooking knowing you'll have that sweet face of genuine thought looking back on it.

But he has yet figured out how to turn the sound off and almost always accidentality flashes you up close, it's so bright.

He has the most blurry photos, and that's not on purpose but when he asks you to look at them with him so he can coo about how happy you look or how serious, its endearing with the blur especially as they clear up a bit continuing the timeline of photos.

He really does his best to have these mementos of you.

Is delighted when you surprise him by putting his favorite one of you as his home screen, he's so grateful let him match with you he wants to be yours too!

from this prompt list!

144 notes · View notes

drabbles-of-writing · 3 years

Text

I Really Don’t Care

This is part of my Beta AU

AO3

Masterpost

… … … … … … … . . . . .

“You spat blood in Amity’s car?”

“Yeah,” Luz took a sip of her thermos that probably had an unholy amount of soda in it. “She kicked me out right after. It’s why she’s been refusing to sit here for the last two days.”

“She has a vintage car, Luz.” Willow pointed out. “I don’t blame her that much for getting upset over it.”

“Then maybe she shouldn’t steal my damn switchblade!” Luz persisted, crossing her arms.

Willow sighed, and Gus just shook his head. Neither of them had the energy or mental capacity to try arguing with Luz today.

It was then that a tray of food was slammed onto the table.

“Speak of the devil,” Willow mumbled.

Amity stood at the table, her hands still gripping the tray. Her head was down, and her hair a bit messier than normal with her ears pressed back.

“No,” Luz said without prompting, grabbing the leg of the empty chair beside her with her foot and pulling it closer to the table. “Go back and sit with the other goths again.”

“Oh shut it,” Amity snapped, raising her head and narrowing her eyes. “Just for today, that is all I’m asking.” She hissed lowly, casting a glance behind her that could almost be seen as...worried.

Willow looked over Amity for a moment before a flash of realization came to her face and she softened sympathetically.

“Boscha?” She asked, flicking an ear.

“...Boscha,” Amity nodded, for once, looking shy and unsure.

Luz’s eyes widened and she and Gus shared a look. Luz slowly pushed the chair back out with her foot.

“Have a seat,” She said, her demeanor having completely changed.

Amity roughly sat down in the offered chair and proceeded to drop her head onto the table with a long, painful groan.

The three all looked behind Amity. They could see Boscha and her friends talking across the cafeteria, sneering and casting glances over at Amity. Some were snickering while Boscha just looked annoyed and like this was an inconvenience with her.

Luz met Boscha’s gaze for a brief moment. They held gazes for a few seconds before Luz raised a hand and flipped her off.

She only got to savor Boscha’s dramatically offended expression for a few moments before she turned back to the witch hunched over the table.

“Do I want to know what she did this time?” Gus asked, taking a sip of his juice.

“Same old,” Amity grumbled, turning her head to the side so her face was visible. “Thinking that I’m going to be crawling back to her for some indiscernible reason.” She said with a sneer. “And general bitchiness, you know how it is.” She muttered, pointedly not looking at anyone at the table.

“Stay as long as you’d like,” Willow said sympathetically, patting her arm before going back to her lunch.

“So does this mean--”

“I’m still pissed at you,” Amity snapped, not even bothering to raise her head as she pointed a finger at Luz. “And were you not broke I’d make you pay to have the seat cleaned.”

“You're so sweet,” Luz rolled her eyes. “You already steal my jacket, why the hell would you ever want my switchblade?”

“Please don’t fight at the table, please don’t fight at the table,” Gus started whispering under his breath.

Amity glared at Luz for a few moments. She raised her head and held her cheek in her hand before turning her head away. She stared across the cafeteria at Boscha, who had her back turned once more and was sneering about something that probably involved the ‘loser’ table.

“I…” Amity gritted her teeth and glanced back at Luz for a moment before glaring at the table beneath her. “I wanted to key Boscha’s car…”

“Boscha has a car?” Luz blinked. “Not like, some personal uber or lamborghini? Like an actual car?”

“Of course she does!” Amity huffed. “She’s got like, some vulcan or whatever. What I do know is that it's expensive and that's the important part.”

“You stole Luz’s switchblade just to key Boscha’s car?” Willow raised a brow. “May I ask...why?”

“Because I don’t want to ruin anything of my own,” Amity said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Also human switchblades are a bit different from witches so if they ever got detectives involved it would be traced back to Luz and not me.”

“And all my admiration has been lost.” Luz sagged, narrowing her eyes.

“What did Boscha do to make you want to key her car?” Gus raised a brow. “I mean, I know you hate her, but you usually just ignore her. What changed?”

Amity pointedly looked away and back down at her tray, for once, with no snarky comeback. Luz met the eyes of her friends at the table as Amity sighed and crossed both her arms on the table in front of her.

“Nothing,” She said, picking at her tray’s peas. “Just thought she could use a bit of karma.”

“Ignoring the fact that was the worst lie I’ve ever seen you try and pull off,” Luz said calmly, earning a bitter glare from the green-haired witch. “You know you could’ve just asked, right?” She said, raising a plastic fork and pointing it at Amity.

“Come again?” Amity lifted a brow, as though she expected this to be a lame joke.

“I hate Boscha almost as much as you,” Luz reminded. “And I know a dozen different ways to destroy a car beyond belief. You could’ve just asked and not only would I have given you my switchblade, but I would’ve grabbed a bat and joined you.” She said, like this was common knowledge.

Amity blinked, surprised. She waited for a few moments as though expecting Luz to start laughing and saying it was a joke, but she didn’t. So instead the side of her mouth curved up slightly in a ghost of a smile.

“A dozen ways, huh?” She said in a sickly sweet tone, leaning forward slightly. “Do tell,”

“Oh, so now you want my help.” Luz scoffed, though she was also smiling like she was about to pull off the heist of the year. “I’ll tell you later, when there aren’t witnesses.” She said, glancing at her friends.

“Why in the world would we tell anyone?” Willow demanded, slightly offended.

“You wouldn’t,” Luz pointed her fork towards Willow. “But I don’t want to give you any ideas, you're sadistic. And he,” She lazily gestured towards Gus. “Is awful at keeping a secret when interrogated.”

“Hey!” Gus protested. “I’ve got reporter blood in my veins! I can’t just keep the secrets from the public when asked.”

“My point has been made,” Luz said calmly, turning back to Amity. “Where does Boscha live, by any chance?”

“Am I going to regret telling you?” Amity asked, as if she wouldn’t tell her anyway.

“Not if you want Boscha’s life to become a living hell, your not.”

“I can’t believe you actually brought your bat,”

Luz grinned and swung said red bat over her shoulder, shutting the door to her used Saturn car, or whatever the brand was. She didn’t bother remembering, it was a piece of junk anyway. Amity waited at a gate at the end of a driveway, impatiently tapping her foot.

“I was never one to make empty promises,” She said, stopping beside the witch and looking up the driveway.

It was long, and led to a ridiculously large mansion. There were three cars in the driveway. Two in front of the garage, and one closer to the gate. That one was the vulcan.

“Are you sure this is a witch neighborhood?” Luz asked, laying her bat across her shoulders and draping her arms overtop of it. “Looks more like any plain rich neighborhood to me.”

“It’s both,” Amity said, grabbing one of the bars of the gate. “My house is a little ways up there,” She said, gesturing back down the street where Luz had come from.

“You mean the one that had a sign that said Blight on the gates? Gee, I couldn’t tell.” Luz rolled her eyes. “You ready to ruin Boscha’s day or what?”

Amity just sighed and gripped the gate with both hands. She dug a foot in between them and heaved herself over the gate, barely bothering to be careful when going over the spikes at the top before dropping down on the other side.

Luz glanced at her bat and took it off her shoulders, squinting as she held it up and determined that no, it would not fit through the bars of the gate.

“We don’t have all night, Luz.” Amity said, crossing her arms.

“Relax, I got this.” Luz assured her. “You may want to keep a heads up, though.”

With that, Luz pulled her arm back and chucked her bat over the gate. Amity didn’t even move as it clattered to the ground next to her. Though she did glance at it in surprise when she heard a metal clang. She hadn’t realized the bat wasn’t wooden.

Luz then grabbed onto the gate and scaled it with similar expertise to Amity. However, she got a little too cocky when trying to get over the spikes and attempted a sort of jump over them. She mistimed how she would land and her foot got caught momentarily between the spikes and she jerked dowards.

Amity winced as Luz ungracefully fell down on the other side of the gate, hitting the pavement with a thud and a pained moan.

In her fall, multiple small plastic containers had fallen out of endless pockets in her jacket and pants. Amity, instead of offering a hand to Luz, picked up a container and inspected it.

There were white grains inside it, nearly filled to the brim. Amity narrowed her eyes and looked down at Luz, who was sitting up and rubbing the back of her head.

“Do I wanna know what's in these?” Amity asked.

“It’s not cocaine,” Luz said simply, getting on her knees as she gathered the fallen containers.

“Wh--” Amity shook her head. “Luz what have you gotten into that you’d need to say that?”

“People always seem to assume the worst with me,” Luz shrugged, shoving the containers in her pockets and standing up, taking the container from Amity. “It’s sugar. I was gonna bring a whole bag, but I’m lazy and those are heavy.”

“So instead you shoved sugar into a bunch of containers?” Amity raised a brow as Luz scooped up her bat in her other hand and leaned it against her shoulder. “That seems like a bit more work to me.”

“I was never known for my intelligence,” Luz shrugged, slowly walking up the driveway to the car as she looked it over, whistling. “She really got a pretty one, huh?”

“She used to have some like, I don’t know, sergio. Something else expensive. She totaled it a few weeks ago and her dad got her a new one,” Amity explained, stopping in front of the car's hood and sneering at it.

“Ooo, a daddy’s girl, I see.” Luz chuckled. “Out of curiosity,” She added, glancing towards the mansion further up the driveway. “Is that daddy going to be coming out here with a shotgun once he hears us committing multiple crimes?”

“Never say daddy ever again,” Amity shuttered, recoiling. “And no, her dad practically lives across the country. Boscha and her mom sleep like the dead and take forever to wake up, and none of their servants are paid enough to come out and stop us.” She said, looking over the car with slitted, predatory eyes.

“Once we start wrecking it, I’d say we have a good amount of time before we gotta scram.”

“Fantastic,” Luz grinned, setting her bat down and leaning it against the side of the car. “Now, before we start absolutely destroying this hunk of metal, let's start with making sure this thing will never drive again.”

With that, she set down the container of sugar on the hood of the car and pulled her beanie off of her head, revealing her switchblade underneath. She picked it up and turned it over with a mischievous grin.

“Why...why would you ever put a switchblade there?” Amity demanded confusedly.

“I ran out of pockets that didn’t have sugar in them,” Luz said simply. “Hold this,” She said, chucking her beanie at the witch.

Amity fumbled to catch the beanie, muttering protests. Luz crouched by one of the front tires and ran a hand through her hair, brushing it out of her face as she frowned at the tires.

Amity stared at her for a few moments before shaking her head and shoving Luz’s beanie in the pocket of her jeans with a bit more force than necessary.

“What's the point of slashing the tires if you already brought a bat?” Amity huffed, gesturing towards said object. “It's not like Boscha would ever drive a car that got wrecked to all hell.”

“It's the principle of the matter,” Luz said simply, unsheathing her blade and looking back up to Amity with a righteous look. “Slashing all the tires before wrecking it sends a very aggressive message, if you ask me.” She said.

With that, she jabbed the blade into the tire.

And nothing happened.

Luz grumbled and began repeatedly stabbing her blade into the rubber, and on the fifth stab, finally made enough of a hole that the tire started wheezing and deflating. Luz nodded in satisfaction and stood up, turning to Amity. Before seeing the laugh she was trying to hide.

“What? These are tough tires!” Luz defended.

“I appreciate the dramatics, Noceda,” Amity said, walking up to Luz and casually plucking the blade from her hand. “But I think I’ve got this.”

“By all means,” Luz said, stepping away and raising her hands. “Can I at least pour the sugar in the tank?”

“The hell would that do?” Amity asked, stopping by a back tire and raising a brow.

“Messes up the engine beyond all belief,” Luz said, picking up the container left on the hood and opening the gas tank. “I know Boscha would never drive this again, but as I said before, it's the principle of the matter. Were this a simple instance of property damage, she’d either have to replace the entire engine or just get a new car.”

“Why do you know the weirdest things?” Amity questioned, flipping the blade and jabbing it into the tire before pulling back to repeat the process.

“I have a lot of time on my hands,” Luz shrugged, popping open the lid of the container.

With that, the two went to work. Luz poured container after container of sugar into the gas tank as Amity slashed up all four tires, and certainly more than necessary.

“Witches don’t use fingerprints to find people, right?” Luz asked, glancing up as she dumped more sugar into the tank.

“Now that would be smart,” Amity agreed, poking her head up on the other side of the car. “But most witches would rather get burned at the stake, again, than do anything the human way.” She sighed with an eyeroll.

“Oracles, then?” Luz said, tossing the container behind her.

“Oracles can only look into the future, not the past.” Amity reminded her. “I do know of some witches that can do that, but they can only do it with certain objects, and it's very nitpicky. So long we don’t like, sign our names or whatever, we’ll probably be fine. Plus, I’m rich, so I could get you out of almost all trouble.”

“How king of you,” Luz stuck out her tongue and popped the lid of what must’ve been her ninth plastic container of sugar. “The joys of capitalism strike once ag--”

The sound of a loud, shrieky scraping noise cut Luz off. Luz stiffened and winced, somehow resisting the urge to cover her ears.

“Amity,” Luz said when the noise stopped. “What the hell--”

The screeching started up again and Luz yelped and covered her ears this time, shutting her eyes. It stopped almost immediately and Luz could hear the witch snickering. She opened her eyes and glared over the car, where Amity was poking her head up over it with a mischievous look.

“You are really dead set on keying her car, aren’t you?” Luz grumbled, rubbing at her ear.

“It brings me joy to ruin things with sharp objects. You of all people should know that,” Amity shrugged, leaning on the hood of the small car and crossing her arms, one hand still obviously holding Luz’s switchblade. She flashed a wide, cocky grin that showed off each and every oversized fang she possessed.

Luz had to mentally repeat the endless mantra of ‘don’t look at it’ as she played it off as rolling her eyes like she was disinterested.

“You're an ass, you know that, Blight?” Luz grumbled, digging through her pockets for any sugar she might have missed.

“Eh, Boscha stayed around so I could be worse,” Amity said, muttering as she narrowed her eyes and stepped back to inspect the damage she did to the car.

“To be fair, I’m fairly certain Boscha is a masochist. And a sadist,” Luz added, climbing onto the hood of the car and sitting on the edge of it, also looking over Amity’s work. The whole side had a long line scratched into it, plus a few more random jabs here and there that looked far more aggressive.

Amity giggled and closed Luz’s switchblade, tossing it back to the human. Luz caught it with little difficulty, placing it in one of her jackets pockets. She thought for a moment before leaning back where she was seated.

“...so was there a specific reason you wanted to do this tonight or--”

“Don’t test me, Noceda.” Amity growled, shooting the girl a glare with lips curled back, exposing fangs in a far less playful way than before.

“Just curious,” Luz said, raising her hands and getting off the hood of the car.

She walked back around the car and kicked aside random empty containers. She grabbed her bat and lifted it up in a small show-off to Amity. The witch raised a brow as Luz set it down on the hood of the car with a metal clink.

She patted her pockets for a few minutes before pulling out a bunch of crumpled pieces of paper. Upon smoothing them out, it was clear they were fire glyphs as Luz pulled out a stick of glue from her waistband.

“I think you went overboard with the sugar if you need to physically cram in those,” Amity said, leaning against the side of the car and crossing her arms.

“Hey, don’t you diss my methods.” Luz said, pointing a finger at Amity before going back to poorly gluing her glyphs to her bat. “I brought out not only one of my only metal bats, but an un-dented metal bat.” She said matter-of-factly. “I got the good kush.”

“It's a bat you own, how good could it be?” Amity sneered.

Luz giggled uncontrollably for a few moments, confusing Amity. But after a few moments and a head shake Luz went back to gluing on the glyphs.

“I will never understand you,” Amity mumbled, her eyes lazily wandering over the bat. “How many of those do you have, anyway?”

“Counting this? Five,” Luz said, shoving a glyph against the bat after it started to peel off, barely missing activating it. “I have one other metal bat, but it's pretty dented. The other three are wooden. I’ve broken two before this,” She added.

“Was it on someone's face?” Amity inquired.

“First one was,”

“Hell yeah,” Amity grinned, walking up beside Luz as she finished (terribly) gluing the glyphs onto the bat and lifting it up.

“Alright,” Luz said, turning the bat over and looking at Amity. “Are you prepared to run for the hills when that mansion door opens? Because this is gonna be loud.”

“I’m running for your car,” Amity said bluntly. “I’m not running on foot like this is some high school party being raided by the cops.”

“You agreed to go to that one,” Luz muttered quietly. “And how the hell are you expecting to get out of here without the keys?”

“You literally have your car unlocked and left the keys on the dash,” Amity said, pointing with her thumb back towards the gate. “Yes, I paid attention.” She said, silencing Luz as she opened her mouth to retort.

Luz shut her mouth with a glare, meeting Amity’s gleeful expression. She just sighed and thrust out the bat to Amity with a tired look.

“Whatever, but if you take off without me with no good reason I will graffiti your house.”

Amity would have replied to that, she really would’ve, but she was too busy blinking confusedly at the bat being held in front of her.

Luz, catching onto her confusion, just shoved the bat into Amity’s arms so she was forced to stumble and take hold of it.

“This is your ex’s car,” Luz reminded her, putting a hand on her hip. “What, you don’t wanna do the honors of the first hit?”

A look of realization came to Amity’s face, then that of malicious glee. She held onto the handle of the bat and looked it over, glancing up at Luz with a sadistic smile.

“I would love to,” She purred, legitimately. And the sound of an actual purr coming from Amity in a moment like this sent chills up Luz’s spine.

Luz gestured to the vulcan dramatically, stepping back with a righteous look.

Amity stepped forward, standing before the car with a fire in her eyes as she raised the bat above her head.

And with barely a moment's hesitation, Amity swung the bat right through the windshield.

The sound of glass shattering along with a loud alarm going off at the same time was not a pleasant sound. Amity panicked for a moment, knowing that Boscha or her mother would wake up far faster with the car alarm blaring.

Luz acted faster than Amity thought was physically possible of her. She took the bat from Amity and broke the side window of the car, reaching her hand inside and unlocking the door and pulling it open. She then swung her bat into the dashboard of the car, setting off many of her bats fire glyphs.

In moments, the dashboard was lit ablaze, as was the inside of the car. Luz hit the dashboard a few more times before the car alarm sputtered out into nothing.

And all that remained was the crackling of the fire eating away at the leather seats.

“There,” Luz panted, wiping her brow with the back of her hand, sweating with the effort and the heat of the flames springing up. “You better hurry up,” She said to Amity as she tossed the bat over to her. “They’ll wake up pretty soon.”

Amity, who had not been staring thank you very much, clumsily grabbed with the bat before shaking her head and setting her jaw. She nodded before taking a step back and slamming the bat against the hood of the car with a loud crack.

Luz gave a tired cheer as she whipped out a few more fire glyphs and slapped them on the back of the car, tapping them before quickly stepping back as flames engulfed it. She was beginning to think the sugar in the gas tank had been a bit pointless.

As this was going on, she could hear the sounds of metal being smashed and beaten on the other end of the vulcan.

Pretty quickly, Luz started to see lights coming from the mansion as the inhabitants woke up. And she knew they only had a few minutes before someone came out to see what was going on.

“Hey, Amity, we gotta…”

Luz trailed off as she peered around the car, the words dying on her tongue.

The front of the car was crushed to all hell, like it’d been run into a concrete wall at full speed. The dashboard, while on fire, was also beaten nearly to the floor. The roof looked no better. Were you to sit in the car, you’d have to hunch over in the front seat to avoid banging your head on it. And Amity was still beating in the roof repeatedly, with no signs of stopping.

The fire in her eyes was almost literal now, with the flames of the car reflected in them. Her pupils were narrowed into slits, and she was bearing a near-snarl, fangs exposed like a wild animal. She looked almost crazy with fury.

For as long as Luz had known (and subsequently annoyed) Amity, never once had she seen the witch look so intent on what could only be described as murder.

The sound of a distant shout snapped Luz out of her trance.

She whirled around, seeing that a window was open and some witch was leaning out, shouting loudly at them to stay where they were. She could see figures move through the windows, towards the front door.

“Alright, funs over!” Luz yelped, running around the side of the car.

Amity had paused in her battery to take deep, panting breaths. She looked up at Luz’s voice, like she had forgotten the human was there.

Luz grabbed Amity’s wrist and tugged her along towards the gate, full-on sprinting at this point. Amity shook off whatever had possessed her and ran alongside Luz, only stopping when they made it to the gate. She chucked the bat over the gate with no regard for what it might hit on the other side as Luz was already halfway up it.

There was a loud explosion and a shake, startling Luz into falling off the top of the gate and roughly hitting the ground. She and Amity glanced back for only a moment to see that the front of the car had imploded in on itself, and the fire was engulfing nearly the whole thing.

Luz didn’t wait around to stare. She ran into the street where her car was lazily parked. She slid over the hood of her car as the sounds of more shouting started up from not only the mansion, but a few of the surrounding buildings.

She looked back right as Amity hit the ground. She grabbed Luz’s bat and ran for the car.

Luz jumped into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut just as Amity opened the passenger's side door and tossed her bat in the back and hopped in.

Amity hadn’t even shut the door before Luz grabbed her keys, turned on the ignition, and floored it.

Luz whooped and cheered as the car sped away, tires screeching as she sharply turned a corner on the road. Amity was hissing and snapping something she couldn’t comprehend, gripping her seat so tightly that her claws had unsheathed and pierced the foam.

Luz was too busy laughing with the thrill of their escape, her head thrown back without a care in the world, not like anyone would be on the road at this hour.

And after a few moments, Amity was laughing too. Luz had to resist the urge to roll down the window to holler to the neighborhood like she was in some coming of age high school movie.

It took a while of aimlessly breaking the speed limit, but the two eventually started to calm. Their shouting turned to quiet laughs as Luz let up on the gas pedal, finally driving at a regular speed as they cruised back towards the main road. And all of a sudden, it felt like a perfect night to commit crimes such as these.

Amity was the first to break the settling silence.

“Here’s your hat back, dumbass.” She said, digging into her pockets and pulling out Luz’s beanie, throwing it at the human.

“Oh, so you can steal my jacket all the time, but the beanie is off-limits?” Luz snarked, taking one hand off the steering wheel to grab her hat and clumsily place it back on her head.

“Please, you’d kill for that beanie,” Amity huffed, crossing her arms with a smile and leaning back in her seat.

“Not as violently as you’d beat up a car, I bet.” Luz teased, glancing over at her. “I would’ve thought that thing had spit in your face and called you a dog from the sight of ya,”

“Be lucky it was the car I smashed and not your face,” Amity gave as a mock-threat, though it felt half-hearted.

Luz looked back over to Amity, who’s previous glee and energy had deflated slightly. And normally Luz never would’ve noticed. But when you somehow manage to catch Amity Blight being that thrilled about something, one tends to notice when it starts to fall.

“Or Boscha’s face,” Luz said, attempting to maintain casualty. “Who knows, maybe you’ll get away with curb-stomping her some day. Probably in a vigilante outfit.”

“I wish,” Amity muttered quietly, glaring out her door's window. She didn’t even bother to retort to Luz’s small jab.

And there was that dreaded awkward silence.

Luz scrunched up her face and lightly tapped her finger on the steering wheel, lost in thought. She almost laughed at how focused she was on trying to ‘logically’ work this all out. Asking Amity what was up would get her a punch to the face or make the whole situation worse, trying to subtly slide it in would never work, and bluntly bringing up how reserved Amity seemed would give her anything but a positive reaction.

She eventually resigned to saying out the first idea that came to her before she could do something overly stupid.

“I know how to make a plant bomb,” She blurted.

Amity blinked, slowly turning around from her brooding to give Luz an incredulous look. Luz puffed up her cheeks before exhaling and already accepting this was a terrible idea from the start.

“For, for Boscha’s locker.” Luz stuttered. “Willow taught me how to...to make a plant bomb with glyphs. Boscha would open her locker and the whole thing would be covered in vines. Takes forever to burn away, and she could end up burning nearly everything in her locker in the process.” She explained, a bit too quickly to be normal.

Amity paused, squinting out the windshield in consideration. Luz was about to slam the gas pedal again just to have something else to focus on.

“You know what, I don��t wanna know why Willow knows this.” Amity said finally, shaking her head. “And how would you even put it in Boscha’s locker? You don’t know how to get it open.”

“I found out if you shove things into the lockers mouths when they aren’t paying attention, you can get a decent amount in and out before they try biting off your hand.” Luz said simply, finally starting to relax.

“...Titan, how come every time I see you do something stupid, you’ve done five dumber things when I’m not around?” Amity demanded, giving Luz the most exhausted, yet still utterly confused expression.

“Do you want me to spring-trap Boscha’s locker or not?” Luz asked, raising a brow at Amity.

“Yes, obviously,” Amity rolled her eyes. “But I want to circle back on you almost getting your hand bitten off by a locker.”

“Nope, too bad, new conversation now.” Luz said, sticking out her tongue and giving Amity a smug look, turning onto the main road where they were finally among other cars.

Amity glared at Luz, obviously about to snap back before just slumping her shoulders and giving up. She leaned back against the seat and kicked her feet up on the dash, like a degenerate.

“I still don’t think I’ll ever understand you,” She mumbled.

“What's so hard to understand? I like breaking shit,” Luz shrugged with a grin. “Especially if it's for sweet, sweet retribution.”

“No, I,” Amity groaned and dragged a hand down her face. “For the love of the Titan, why do you care?”

Luz startled at that. She gripped the steering wheel tighter as she blinked at Amity’s reflection in the windshield.

“What?”

“This isn’t just about what happened today, it's just in general.” Amity waved a hand in the air. “You patch me up after we fight, you fight with me when someone else starts trouble, you let me sit at your table, you invite me places, and you help me destroy my ex-girlfriend's car.” She counted off her fingers.

“And for what?” She demanded, facing Luz. “I know we’ve got a whole ‘frenemy’ thing going on, but that’s sure as hell not how it started.”

“You want me to be an ass to you?” Luz huffed. “Contrary to popular belief, I like to sometimes try to be nice.”

“So, what, you help me because you just feel like being nice?” Amity questioned, almost accusingly.

“No, I just,” Luz scrunched up her nose and squinted her eyes, choosing her words carefully. “Do you…”

A lightbulb went off in her head.

“You remember how whenever I mention I started a fight with someone, you get jealous?” She said.

“Wha--I--I do not!” Amity cried, growling when she saw Luz snicker.

“Fine, fine, I’ll let you have this one,” Luz said with a smirk. “But the point is, you don’t like it. And that one time you decided to beat the hell out of Matt after he decided to start shit with me.” She added.

“Can you get on with your point?” Amity hissed.

“It’s the same thing with me,” Luz said bluntly, and Amity went still. “Well, more or less. At first I never quite understood why you cared when I got beat down by someone else, after all, I bet that would’ve been something you laughed at.” She admitted, keeping her eyes on the road.

“But I think I get it.” Luz said earnestly, appearing lost in thought for a moment. “Yeah, you can absolutely handle yourself and I have no doubt you could’ve wrecked Boscha’s car on your own,” She said with a bit of a head tilt. “But you're my fight-buddy, or whatever you call it.” Luz added quickly with an awkward cough.

“So I take a little offence to someone deciding they can be an ass to ya. That’s my job,” She teased, finally looking over at Amity. “If that makes sense.” She said, sounding just a little shy.

Amity met her eyes for those brief few moments, surprised. And the way it seemed to stretch out endlessly wasn’t doing much for Luz’s nerves. Christ, when the hell did she get so nervous about something like this?

Luz turned back to the road before she could panic about it further, deciding she should probably work more on not getting them in a car crash. She subconsciously was aware of her heading back towards the rich witch neighborhood, deciding it’d been enough time to be safe to stop by real quick.

“Oh,” Amity said simply, also turning to stare off through the windshield.

The silence seemed to stretch out into eternity, but was probably only a few moments before Amity sat up properly and turned her head to stare out her passenger side window. She looked resigned before deflating.

“Boscha was being extra clingy,” She said, and Luz instantly knew she was talking about earlier that day. “And when she’s being clingy, she gets personal.”

“Ah,” Luz cringed, already imagining what Boscha could’ve guilt-tripped Amity with. “Yeah, I’d wanna cause property damage, too.”

“It wasn’t just that,” Amity said, holding her cheek in her hand as she continued to stare out the window. “Boscha knows personal things, and I don’t mean just relationship wise. Say what you will about her intelligence, but she can get to insecurities fast.”

Luz glanced at Amity then, a frown beginning to form.

“But then again, when one dates Boscha for nearly a year, I suppose I can’t be surprised.” She grumbled, looking down. “Or maybe I’m just easy to read, who knows. I’ll never ask.” She said with such fake carelessness Luz would’ve thought she was being sarcastic.

Luz hesitated briefly before taking a hand off the steering wheel and lightly brushed Amity’s arm, a question. Amity glanced back and didn’t react. So Luz gently grabbed her arm, just a bit above her wrist, and gave a light squeeze.

“Whatever, point is,” Amity sighed, taking her eyes off the window to look anywhere but Luz. “I guess it just...added up or something. I dunno, this one just got to me more and I wanted revenge for...all of it, I suppose.” She mumbled.

“Yeah, I’ve had that,” Luz gave a half-hearted chuckle. “Mostly for dickhead kids I used to know at my old school. Willow has also agreed to help me with that one.”

“Well damn, sign me up.” Amity said, finally looking at her. “I have a sudden, unending urge to beat up a bunch of humans that aren’t you for once.”

“Join the club,” Luz teased, giving a small smile. “But for the record, I am still all about beating the shit out of Boscha. She doesn’t even have to do anything I’m still down to make her suffer.”

“Noted,” Amity chuckled, her shoulders relaxing as she heavily slumped down in her seat. “Also, if you tell anyone about this conversation I will gut you like a fish and throw your body in a ravine.” She calmly said, like an afterthought.

“There’s my old Amity,” Luz grinned, squeezing her arm again. “And were you not rich, I could have so much blackmail on you.”

“Oh you would not believe the number of people who’ve tried that.” Amity said, her gaze lingering on Luz’s hand on her arm for a few moments.

“I can guess,” Luz said, her car approaching the rich neighborhood. “It’s why me and Gus have a mutual understanding. We both have blackmail on each other, so we keep our mouths shut and nobody has to kno--shit!”

Luz suddenly slammed on the breaks, reminding both of them that they had neglected to put on their seatbelts. Amity had to brace herself against the dashboard to avoid breaking her nose on it from the whiplash. Luz’s hand quickly left Amity’s arm to grasp at the steering wheel.

Cop cars came blaring right in front of the car, turning into the neighborhood with lights flashing. Both girls were stiff as a board as two cop cars drove by, slowly fading out of sight but the sound of the sirens still persisting in the background.

The girls glanced at each other with similar expressions of shock and fear.

“I thought witches didn’t call the regular police…” Luz said slowly, peering through her windshield down the street, though the cop cars were long gone from sight.

“We don’t,” Amity said just as slowly. “Which means either some witch joined the police force, someone decided to be an ass, or Boscha suspects it was you…”

“Well thanks for the confidence boost!” Luz exclaimed, slapping a hand against the steering wheel in annoyance. “Steve is a great guy and all, but he cannot save me from that mess!”

“I can bail you out,” Amity waved her hand, beginning to calm down.

“I’m going to have a criminal history,” Luz groaned, thunking her head against the steering wheel.

“I’m rich, I’ll bribe them.” Amity said with a shrug, patting Luz’s back.

“That’ll work, but it's still tacky,” Luz muffled.

“Never stopped me before,”

“Shut up and get out of my car,” Luz grumbled, sitting up. “You can make it to your own house from here.”

“Very polite of you,” Amity sneered, opening the car door and slipping out, leaning against the frame above the car door and peering in. “I’m still going to hold you to that locker bomb promise.”

“Now that's going to be a delight,” Luz agreed. “It's not even a favor at this point, I’d do that for free.”

“And that's what I like about you,” Amity said, flashing a sharp smile before stepping back. “Later, Luz.”

With that, she shut the door and started down the sidewalk turning into the neighborhood. One hand was holding and rubbing where Luz’s hand had previously been on her arm.

Luz chuckled as she noticed that. It took a few more seconds before she processed Amity’s parting words and froze, mulling them over in her head for a few moments.

And that's what I like about you.

Christ almighty.

Luz thunked her head right back down on the steering wheel, resisting the urge to make a serious of concerning wheezing-screaming noises. She knew damn well her car wasn’t put together enough to muffle that. If she woke up with no bruises on her head, it’d be a blessing

She leaned back and slouched against her seat, seeing that Amity had now vanished from sight around the corner to her neighborhood. She pressed her hands to her face and groaned quietly.

She needed to get thicker skin, this was starting to get ridiculous.

204 notes · View notes

skiller0dani · 4 years

Text

Cherry Pie (1) | Billy Mitman

M A S T E R L I S T

smut | slow burn requests info wanna be on a Timmy taglist? click here

surprise I wrote a Billy short series! For this however I’m not using Y/N, I have an actual OC name picked out for this character. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

lemme also clear some stuff up YES this is a teacher/student relationship story NO there are no adult/under-aged person relationships YES I made Billy 18 in this story, because lets say he’s in his final semester of senior year. NO smut will not be in every chapter of this short story. It’s a SLOW BURN. meaning I will be adding sexual tension to every chapter to build up the anticipation for when it finally happens.

| Upon realizing her emotional and mental health was in desperate need of assistance, Miss Rachel Stevens had requested a week off in order to address these issues with a professional. To sub her senior English Class is Miss. Alice Perribow, the resident Art teacher at Valley High School. |

***

MONDAY

Alice Perribow was what you’d imagine as a well put together woman. Smart, well dressed, on time, prepared, as a teacher she was the definition of responsible. This was simply to mask the fact that her entire life was falling apart, going through a messy divorce and property battle over her perfect house with her soon to be ex husband was causing some outside stress. Alice never brought home stress to work, she allowed herself to indulge in the happiness her job gave her, even for 8 hours a day. So when Rachel Stevens came knocking on Alice’s office door after hours and pleaded her to sub- Alice was hesitant to say yes but agreed anyway. She always has had an inability to say no to people who have shown her nothing but kindness, and Rachel was very kind. Alice’s hair was messier than it normally would have been this Monday morning, she had been running late due to a mistimed alarm. Her brunette hair was thrown up in a messy bun and her short heels clicked down the hallway as she rushed to Rachel’s classroom. The only way Alice could make this work was by subbing in the afternoon, the librarian Mr. Fredricks subbed the morning classes. Alice also had to teach Art in the morning, but didn’t have classes in the afternoon, usually just private lessons with students.

Alice was quite pleased to see no students waiting in the classroom when she pushed in, and unceremoniously dropped her things onto the desk sending a binder of papers crashing to the ground. “Shit,” Alice mumbled to herself as she crouched down to gather the papers. Suddenly a pair of dark tennis shoes joined her as someone crouched to help her pick up the papers. When Alice looked up, her throat closed only slightly upon looking into the greenest eyes she’s ever seen. A pair of green eyes that belonged to Billy Mitman, “thank you Billy.” Alice smiled, taking the papers from him as she stands. She’d seen Billy around the hallways before, and he’d also been by her office a few times for piano lessons. “Of course Miss Perribow.” He says, flashing her a smile before turning down the row of chairs to his desk. His eyes stayed on her and he only wondered where Miss Stevens was for a fleeting moment before his focus returned to Miss Perribow. She was beautiful, her dark hair framed her face perfectly and her eyes were so bright as she turned to the whiteboard. Miss Perribow was a bit curvier than Miss Stevens, and Billy couldn’t take his eyes off the way those jeans hugged her hips. Billy knows it’s wrong for him to be thinking of his teachers this way, but girls his own age don’t interest him.

She so gracefully wrote her name out on the whiteboard as more students trickled in. Margot came in and beamed when she saw Miss Perribow, “good afternoon Miss Perribow!” She exclaimed and Alice turned with a smile on her face. Alice already knew Margot fairly well, she had taken Alice’s Art class every single year of her high school career. “Margot, so good to see you.” Alice said, a dimple popping out on her left cheek. Billy smiles fondly at the small dimple in her cheek. Soon the first bell was ringing and Alice closed the door before turning to address the class, “I’m sure a lot of you already know me but in case you don’t- I’m Miss Perribow. I’m going to be the afternoon sub for Miss Stevens this week.” She smiled and Billy noticed two boys adjacent to his left sharing a look before turning their horny gaze back towards Alice. “So from what I understand is that you were about to start the Canterbury Tales yeah?” She asks for clarification, and Margot nodded happily. Alice smiles warmly at Margot before pulling a copy of the book, “what would you say the overall theme of this tale is?” She asks and the entire room falls into silence. Margot glances around before raising her hand, “it’s clearly about courtly love. These two men, once family nearly beat each other to death to prove they deserve her affections. In my opinion, it’s a tale of how poisoning love can be.”

One of the boys to Billy’s left snickers, “did we read the same thing? Because I’m pretty sure one of them got sick from a gnarly case of blue balls.” He says with a smirk, and most of the class erupts in laughter. He’s a big guy, definitely a football player and built like a tank. In fact if Billy recalls correctly, that’s what most people call him: Tank, even though his real name is Leon. He leans forward on his desk, eyeing Alice. “Do you know what that is Miss Perribow?” Tank smiles slyly and Billy feels annoyance bubbling in his chest. Alice manages a small smile as she turns her attention towards Tank, “you know Leon, I think it would be a much better idea to return to the Knights Tale.” Alice dismisses but Tank turns to his friends and smirks before clearing his throat loudly. “It’s when a girl gets a guys engine revving, and he pops a hard one, but then she doesn’t do anything about it. She just leaves him there with blue balls. Get it? Cause they’re sad.” Tank raises an eyebrow as Alice turns to look back at him. She smiles warmly, doing her best to keep her frustration at bay as she strolls down the row towards Tank’s desk. She leans over on Tank’s desk, placing her palms flat on the surface of the desk. “Tank, it seems you have forgotten that I know your mother personally. Shall I give her a call and inform her that you thought it would be appropriate to educate the class on sex ed today?” She asks, her tone serious while Tank’s cheeks turn scarlet.

The class giggles quietly as Tank sinks back into his desk, but when Alice turns Tank whips his phone out and snaps a photo of her ass. “Delete that.” Billy snaps loudly, drawing Tank’s attention as well as everyone else in the room. Alice turns, her eyebrows furrowed as Tank and Billy are locked in a deep glaring match. “What the hell are you talking about freak?” Tank snaps and Billy takes a deep breath through his nose as Alice makes her way back down the row of desks. “I saw you take a picture of Miss Perribow, and I know you didn’t take it because you really like her jeans.” Billy snaps and Alice’s eyebrows raise as she turns towards Tank. Tank’s cheeks are red, but not with embarrassment- this time it’s with anger. “Leon, please see me after class. Billy, you too.” Alice says, looking over the both of them before returning to the lesson. Billy keeps his eyes on Tank for the remainder of class, and he hates when he sees Tank shamelessly look down Alice’s shirt. When the bell rings, neither of the boys move as Alice walks towards them and sits in the desk in front of Billy. Their eyes meet and Alice quickly looks away when she feels the tingles shoot through her body. “Somebody want to tell me what’s going on here?” She asks, looking between the boys.

“Yeah Tank is a pervert and took a picture of your ass.” Billy snaps, his voice tense as he glares over at Tank. Alice’s cheeks flush as she averts her eyes to Tank, “is that true?” She asks and Tank rolls his eyes. “Which part? Because no I’m not a pervert, I’m a lover baby. Did I take a picture of your ass? Hell yeah, I’ll need some jack off material for later.” Tank snickers, simply enjoying the rise he gets out Billy with every word out of his mouth. Billy pushes up from his desk angrily, and Tank stands too. The two of them are chest to chest and they stand eye to eye, although Billy is the same height as Tank- he’s not nearly as muscular. Alice stands, and when Tank’s eyes avert to her Billy immediately steps in front of her. “Boys, you both need to calm down. I think this conversation should be continued in Mr. Alvarez’s office.” Alice says, trying to move between the boys but Billy won’t let her get anywhere near Tank. “I’d happily bend you over his desk if that’s what you mean.” Tank smiles and Billy is lurching forward before Alice arms curl around him to hold him back. “Tank you need to leave,” Alice snaps and he shrugs as he casually walks out of the classroom. The bell rings again, signaling the end of the school day as Billy stands in the classroom- his chest heaving.

“Billy, you know he was saying that just to make you angry right?” Alice says gently, and he shrugs as he reaches for his bag. Billy begins to head for the door when Alice’s left hand catches his eye, “Miss Perribow, aren’t you married?” He asks, stopping when he notices her lack of wedding ring. Alice is surprised to say the least, she didn’t imagine any of her students paid that much attention. “We’re um- separated.” Alice explains awkwardly and Billy nods as his eyes stay fixed on her. Alice’s cheeks heat up under Billy’s gaze and she takes a deep breath to control her emotions. She’s just lonely without Ben that’s all, she’s projecting her feelings of loneliness on a handsome student. He’s a teenager, and she needs to get herself together. “What happened?” He asked and what scared Alice the most about Billy’s question, was how genuinely he asked her. The look on his face makes her think he genuinely cares, but she knows about Billy. Rachel gave her a bit of a warning on Billy’s own issues with projecting his feelings on others. He doesn’t really care, he’s just projecting. “Sometimes things just don’t work out.” Alice smiles through the breaking of her heart. She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, ignoring the look that Billy is giving her. A look that says he isn’t buying her bullshit line.

“Was he a douchebag or something?” Billy asks, sitting back against a front row desk as Alice begins to pack up her things into her bag. “Billy, language.” Alice scolds gently, ignoring the cheeky smile on Billy’s face when he notices her flushed cheeks. “He did something didn’t he?” Billy says, and Alice gives him another look before sighing deeply and running a hand down her face. “Yes he did, and I don’t really want to talk about it.” Alice says and Billy nods instantly, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. Alice turns to her book and begins to look over the lesson for tomorrow as Billy makes his way out of the classroom, and he nearly says something he shouldn’t but he bites his tongue. Alice spends at least another hour sitting at that desk, writing out the lesson for tomorrow. In the back of her mind her thoughts drift back to Billy, he’s charming and sweet in a boyish way. He’s smart, and he thinks deep thoughts- Rachel says he thinks quite philosophically. Tank however is becoming a problem that deeply concerns Alice, he’s much taller and much stronger than she is. The next morning she’ll have to talk to Mr. Alvarez about him.

The sun is setting when Alice makes her way towards the parking lot but out of the corner of her eye she sees a figure leaning against the school. Turning her head, her cheeks warm when she sees Billy leaning against the brick wall with a cigarette in his mouth. “Billy?” She calls, and he glances her way with a smile on his face. Alice hugs her bag to her chest as she makes her way towards Billy, “what are you still doing here?” She asks him and Billy shrugs, taking another drag from his cigarette. He rests his head back, his signature blue hoodie loosely hanging around his shoulders. “Skipped the bus.” He says with a smile as he blows smoke out. He turns his gaze to hers and he cocks an eyebrow when he notices her cheeks warm. Alice steps back, “why?” She asks him, and he chuckles as he drops his cigarette butt to the ground before putting it out with his shoe. Billy pushes off the wall and steps towards Alice, and her breath catches in her throat. “I wanted to see you Miss Perribow,” Billy breathes and Alice feels a shiver run down her back. This is a student. Alice steps back further, trying to distance herself from Billy. “Billy that’s- that’s not appropriate. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Alice says, her voice rushed as she turns towards her car.

“I don’t have a ride, so I hope you’re comfortable leaving a student alone at night with no way to get home. Guess I’ll have to walk.” Billy says, his voice lilted mischievously. Alice halts, her back still facing him. As a teacher, she can’t leave him here alone. “I’ll give you a ride, this once.” Alice says and Billy smirks as he lifts his bag over his shoulder before falling into step next to Alice. “It’ll be our little secret Miss Perribow.” He says with a wink and Alice simply slides into the driver seat of her car. The silence in the car is a tad bit uncomfortable as Alice pulls the car out of the parking lot, and heads towards Billy’s house. “Is Perribow your maiden name?” Billy asks suddenly, the street lamps illuminating his face as the car passes underneath them. Alice bites at her bottom lip as she turns the corner, “yeah it is.” She says and Billy nods with a soft hum. Alice dreads heading back home, Ben is probably there and she doesn’t feel like facing him at this moment. “What did he do? Your ex-husband?” Billy asks, his voice soft as he looks over at her with gentle eyes. Alice feels a rush of emotion sneak up on her, god this is so unprofessional. She keeps her eyes on the road as she softly sniffles, “he cheated on me.” Billy is quiet, but Alice knows his eyes are on her.

When the tears come, Alice feels beyond embarrassed and refuses to look at Billy. “Pull over.” He says, and Alice pulls in front of a house putting the car in park. She wipes her eyes as she turns to look at him, “is this your house?” She asks, trying to divert the attention from her misty eyes. Billy turns in his seat to look at her, one of his hands coming to hold hers. “No, but you shouldn’t be alone right now.” He says and Alice pulls her hand from his while quickly shaking her head. Alice takes a deep breath before turning to look at him, “Billy no I need to get you home, your parents are worried sick I’m sure.” She argues, it’s time to be the responsible adult. Billy stubbornly shakes is head, “nope told them I was hanging with Sam and wouldn’t be home until late. Look if you don’t want me here I’ll get out and just hang out until later-” Billy starts, turning to get out of the car but Alice places a hand on his arm to stop him. “Just tell me where you live-” She asks but Billy opens the door and exits the car. With a heavy sigh Alice exits her car after him, “Billy! It’s not safe for you alone.” She tries to reason but he just keeps walking. Feeling panic and worry for his well being Alice calls out after him once more.

“Okay you’re right! I don’t want to be alone, but you are a student. An underaged student. I’m breaking a law just being with you now after hours.” Billy stops, and then turns to look at her. Their eyes lock as he makes his way back towards her, “I’m old enough to know what I want. I want to help you tonight.” Billy argues but Alice waves her hands. Why does she have to be so drawn to him? “You’re 17 Billy.” She protests and Billy laughs bitterly. “I’m turning 18 tomorrow. I’m practically an adult already.” He says, and she knows she won’t change his mind- it’ll be dangerous for him to wander around at night alone. “Billy-” She starts but Billy cuts her off, “Alice.” Her words die in her throat as she shivers upon hearing her name roll off Billy’s tongue. Alice stands silent, her eyes fluttering as she looks at Billy and finally she enters her car. Billy slides into the passenger seat, “I’m hungry for ice cream. I have money.” He says and Alice feels reluctant and anxious as she hesitantly starts the engine of her car. She takes off towards the nearest ice cream shop, ignoring how her heart races in his presence. Alice is aware of Billy’s behavioral issues, and she’s not sure if he’s currently on his medication or not.

Once they’d gotten ice cream and parked in an empty parking lot, Billy turned to Alice again. “Who did he cheat on you with?” He asks and Alice has no idea why he is so interested in her failed marriage, but it is kind of nice to talk to someone about it. “His secretary. Screwed her at work, came home to me.” Alice laughed bitterly, not even worrying about being professional anymore. Clearly it doesn’t matter to Billy whether or not she’s his teacher, he’s determined to break down her walls. “He sounds like a dick.” Billy says and the simplicity of his comment, despite how complicated their situation is makes Alice laugh softly. Alice spoons more ice cream into her mouth, “yeah he is a dick.” She agrees and Billy smiles next to her. Alice turns to look at Billy, admiring his side profile for a moment longer then she should. “Billy, why don’t you hang out with people your age? Instead you spent time with Miss Stevens, and now me.” She asks and Billy pauses, as though he’s searching for the right words. “Because you’re smart, beautiful, experienced. You’re a real person, not just some high school kid caught up in shit that doesn’t actually matter.” He says, his eyes locking on hers once again. Before Alice can even move Billy is leaning over the center console and pressing his lips to hers. Alice freezes for a moment before melting against him, her lips moving with his for a fraction of a second before her mind once again returns to clarity.

Alice yanks away from him, panic pounding in her chest. “You’re 17, and I’m your teacher what the hell am I doing?” Alice panics, her hands fumbling to start the car. Billy tries to reach for her hand, but she won’t even touch him. “Alice it’s okay, I know what I want-” He starts but Alice vigorously shakes her head, her hands digging into her hair as she drops her head to the steering wheel. Billy reaches out for her once more, “Alice you didn’t do anything wrong. I wanted that.” He reassures her with a hand rubbing down her back but Alice snaps up and gently pushes his hand off her- despite the fact that he was actually calming her down. “My name is Miss Perribow, and you need to tell me where you live William.” She says sternly, her eyes focused straight ahead. Billy leans back in his seat, mumbling his address and she takes off. Alice’s hands are trembling as she drives quickly, and she hates how her lips are still tingling from the slight contact with his. This is wrong. How she’s feeling is wrong. “Alice, I know you wanted it. I felt you lean into me, and you can deny it all you want but I felt the spark. I know you felt it too.” Billy snaps once they arrive at his house, slamming the car door once he exits.

Alice exhales a shaky breath once his front door is closed and she drives down to her house, which funnily enough isn’t far from Billy’s house. When the garage closes behind her, she drags herself into the house and sure enough Ben is sitting at the kitchen counter. “Where have you been? I’ve been so worried baby,” He says, his voice soft with concern as he stands to approach her. Alice waves him off, feeling bile rising in her throat when he calls her baby. “Ben please don’t.” She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose with her pointer and thumb as she kicks her shoes off. “Don’t call me that. You know we’re divorcing.” She says, her voice tired and he doesn’t push her. He watches her trudge up the stairs, but something about her seems off tonight. Like her mind is elsewhere. As Alice pulls herself into bed, she can’t get a certain pair of green eyes out of her head. She can’t forget the feeling of his lips on hers, and she knows the rest of this week is going to be more difficult than she’d anticipated.

***taglist*** @irishbish @90sthemedsunsets @newletas @londonmademedoit @80sangelics

#timothee chalamet smut #timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet imagine #timmy chalamet #timmy chalamet imagine #timmy chalamet smut #lil timmy tim #billy mitman #billy mitman smut #miss stevens #miss stevens movie imagine #miss stevens movie

59 notes · View notes

timeandspacenovelist · 3 years

Text

Wargames Worries

Set before and after Wargames 2020.

The sweet but peaceful tones of “A Whole New World” filled the air with a relaxing atmosphere as Candice LeRae hummed along. She just taken out a nice turkey (it was a week after Thanksgiving, allow her) and she set it alongside the other lovely dishes on offer. Today was planning day for WarGames and in addition to going into war with these ladies, she also got on decently well with them. She and Dakota had patched things up after their falling out last year and Raquel seemed alright. Toni and she had met a few times over the past two years or so and she liked her, so that’s good as well. So in order to make this day as good as it could be, alongside the turkey there was a lobster, some Texas ribs and some snacks imported from New Zealand. Now all that was needed was for the guests to arrive. She checked the clock, 3:00pm. Johnny had his game to watch, so he would be occupied. She didn’t want him blabbing about anything unintentionally. She had to outright click delete on a tweet that he was about to send that was gonna reveal Indi as Ghostface before the time called for it. She loved him so much, but honestly, he frustrated her sometimes. She took a few cleansing breaths as she thought about the day ahead.

“Ok, first time planning as WarGames captain. Everything’s gonna be fine. I’m in control. Rhea did it last year, what’s the worse that can happen?” she said to herself. Maybe it was gonna be a good day. Then the doorbell rang.

She opened the door to three smiling faces who no doubt got a whiff of the food as they almost bulldozed past her. She was glad that part was a success, at least.

“So how are you guys doing?” she asked, trying to start off the get together on a friendly note.

“Well, Raquel and I just finished working out and Toni.. What did you say you were doing again?” Dakota stated and then asked.

“Mmmm? Oh, I was getting some new gear,” Toni said, her mouth full with lobster, “I’m really sorry Candice but I hadn’t eaten today and it looked so nice.”

“That’s fine Toni. It was for you anyway.” Candice said, a smile appearing on her face because of the Australian’s love for the food. She hadn’t quite gotten a chance to ask Toni exactly why she liked lobster so much, but one day she’ll tell her.

“Where’s Johnny?” Raquel asked, the Latina taking Toni’s initiative and digging into the turkey.

“In the bedroom, watching the game.”

“Don’t you two usually watch together?”

“Yes, but today, we’ve got something important to do.” The captain of Team Candice and the namesake, (Dakota suggested Task Force X but was rejected), then went over to the couch and picked up her iPad. She flicked through a few unneeded pictures (she didn’t know why she had a picture of Pawdme’s paw) before settling on the picture of the plans she spent last night drawing up.

“I figured since we’re up against some tough competition, we’d best prepare as well as we can. No four on 1 attacks this time.” That was slightly disappointing to her as they had enjoyed the use of the numbers game a lot over the past few weeks, but this time, they had to go toe to toe.

“Umm, Candice?” Dakota said, her hand raised in the air like a diligent student.

“Dakota, you don’t actually have to put your hand up.” Candice said with a soft smile.

“Ah, sorry. Force of habit,” the Kiwi said, blushing slightly in her embarrassment, “who’s gonna be the first one going into the cages?” It was a valid question. They had unexpectedly lost the advantage match so they would have to enter first. The person who went in first usually would be the one to set the pace and hang on, Candice herself knowing that personally.

“Well, I was gonna suggest that....” The sentence wasn’t completed as the trio were startled by the shout of Dakota who’s shocked face melted into a warm wide grin as she realized the mysterious person who touched her was Pawdme. The captain of Team Kick sunk to her feet and began to play with the Garganos’ dog, rubbing her belly and giving her high fives.

“Dakota, are you gonna listen to what I’m saying, or are you gonna play with Pawdme?” Candice sighed and asked, already knowing the answer. Every time she came over, this always happens.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” she responded, clearly distracted by the rather cute pup.

Candice just shook her head and turned her attention to Toni and Raquel. Toni was, albeit still, paying a lot of attention to her lobster, but she was at least listening. “So, Raquel, I think you should enter the ring second. That way you can help clean up any messes we might have dealing with two of Team Shotzi’s members.”

“I got you Cap,” Raquel said, before she was interrupted by the throat clearing of one Dakota Kai. “sorry, other cap.” Dakota nodded her head and continued playing with Pawdme. Raquel was about to speak again when a loud cheer interrupted her. Johnny came out (well, ran out) of the bedroom like an excited kid who was bringing a report card for their parents to see.

“Sorry, Candice, but I just gotta tell you. I got it. My bet actually paid off!” the exuberant founder of the Gargano Way stated, as proud as he possibly could be.

“What bet is that?” Toni asked, her face showing one of intrigue and interest.

“He bet $500 that Higgins would score two touchdowns this game. It obviously paid off.” Candice stated, giggling at her husband’s excitement over it.

“Yep! Oh baby, Hollywood’s coming in clutch once again!” Johnny said.

“Hollywood, eh?” Toni said, intrigued by the nickname. Her boyfriend watched it, but she never paid attention when he talked football. She had no idea what a touchdown was, but it was obviously good as he got two, and Johnny was happy. She honestly knew little about sports other than wrestling, but was willing to try it if it was interesting to her.

Candice turned to see Raquel looking sheepishly at her, almost like there was something she wanted to say, but felt like it would be wrong to. “If you’re gonna say it, go ahead and say it, Raquel.”

“It’s the Cowboys, they’re playing the Browns. I mistimed the schedule. I thought we had more time before the game began.” the large Latina said, her point coming across very clearly.

“Fine.... go ahead and watch the game. But you better listen when Toni and I talk about the plan with you.” Candice said, like an exasperated mom.

“Thank you so much!” Raquel said as she hurried inside with Johnny, not before flicking Dakota for her interruption earlier, who responded with a playful jab in kind.

“Score’s 21-14 right now. Best watch your head there, the doorway’s a bit..... Ah see I told you to watch your head.” Johnny told her, his warning coming too late.

“Well, Dakota’s playing with Pawdme so her attention is gone, essentially. Raquel’s watching the game with Johnny, so it’s up to the two of us. You ready Toni? Toni?” Candice explained before trying to get Toni’s attention. She then heard a small sound before listening closer and hearing the loud but soft music of Queen, in particular, ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’. Toni had her headphones in her ear and was scrolling down her phone on Twitter. Candice could only shake her head and smirk. She was 25 once too, and she did the same thing, albeit with a less high-tech phone.

She sighed, and she shut down the iPad. It was low on power, anyway. She did try. She did honest to God try. Maybe being a captain was a lot more difficult than Rhea made it out to be. Then again, she never had any team meetings. She was better than her there. Maybe one day when she’s less mad at her for the multi-woman beat down thing, she and Rhea would have a talk about WarGames last year that they had been meaning to have. She checked the clock, 3:30. It had only been a half hour. She shook her head and took out the cupcake she had brought for herself to eat as she let the vocalizing of Freddie Mercury send her thoughts to another place. Come Sunday, they’d just wing it.

Everything hurts. Everything aches. Turns out WarGames isn’t the most pleasant experience in the world. You’d think Candice would realize that after getting her ass kicked by four women for almost half an hour last year. But in her mind, Shotzi needed to be punished. Unfortunately, that punishment meant a broken arm and feeling very, very sore. But a win is a win, and she’s won two WarGames matches now, so that was nice. She looked to her left and gave a warm smile to Toni Storm, who responded in kind before wincing a bit as she tried to move fully on her side to turn to her friend.

“Hey..... thanks for letting us crash at your place for tonight and heal up.” the Aussie said in recognition of the Garganos’ hospitality. Candice (well, mostly Johnny) had decided that the rest of Team Candice could stay at their house tonight, so they wouldn’t have to drive home in pain. It was the least she could do as they put their bodies on the line tonight to win.

“It’s no problem, really. We all needed a place to rest and recuperate after the match and we have more than enough room here.” Candice replied.

“I’m sure Dakota is very thankful for your help, as well. She’ll just let you know when she wakes up. She got hammered, literally.” Toni said, as Candice turned to her right to see a soundly sleeping Dakota Kai, who had taken the lion’s share of the punishment. She had been the most difficult to get into bed because of her soreness and hadn’t taken long to fall asleep.

“You guys can thank me by healing up and getting better” Candice then took the bell she had on her chest and rang it as loud but as gentle as she could in order to alert the person who gave it to her. She had been in the opposite role many a time, but now she was glad it was her turn to be pampered. The door flew open to reveal an attentive Johnny Gargano awaiting his next order.

“You rang?”

“Could you bring me a cup of water, please? My throat’s a little parched.” Candice asked nicely.

“No problem. Nurse Gargano is at your service.“ Johnny said with a salute as he went off to get the drink. Yeah, Candice could definitely get used to this.

Toni tossed and turned in bed as she suffered from the nightmare again. It was the third time in four weeks she had gotten it, and it wasn’t stopping anytime soon. She honestly hadn’t wanted to do it at all, but she rolled to her side in order to fight off the seemingly invisible enemy and she hit Dakota as she flew off the bed and fell down on the surprisingly soft carpet. Dakota would need to make a mental note to tell them about it. The sudden thud and that wail of pain woke Candice up from her slumber and shook Toni from her nightmare. The bell was rung, and it was Raquel, not Johnny, who had answered. In addition to winning the match for the team, Raquel had taken the least amount of damage and so was fit for duties as a caretaker temporarily.

“What happened? What’s going on?” Raquel asked as she burst in.

Candice looked over to the fallen Kiwi and then the shaking Aussie, and put two and two together. When she switched places with Toni, she didn’t expect this to happen. “Toni had a nightmare, swung wildly and knocked off Dakota.”

Dakota hadn’t realized when it happened. All she knew was that she was on the floor, in the air, and then back on the bed. As her realization started sinking in, she noticed the towering figure above her and smiled. “Thanks.”

“No problem. You’re my Hermana. I wanna do stuff like this for you.” Raquel said, straightening and fluffing Dakota’s pillow.

Dakota wasn’t a multilingual person, far from it. But she knew a little bit of Spanish and knew that Hermana meant sister. She smiled at the term of endearment by the Latina. “Sister, eh? Does that mean I get to borrow your clothes? I might need to fix some of them though, just to fit little old me.” Dakota said, smiling at her friend.

“Oh, shut up.” Raquel said laughing as she ruffled Dakota’s mane and left the room, seeing that the other problem was being well handled by Candice.

Candice had her arm around Toni and was rubbing her shoulder as the Aussie finally calmed down. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s ok. You’re alright now. What was the dream about?”

“...... The I quit match.” Toni said after a few seconds of building up courage to say it. Candice understood immediately. It was Toni’s last match in NXT UK and she’d almost gotten seriously hurt towards the end. She assumed the nightmare stemmed from the WarGames recently and all the stuff around it must have reawakened it in her.

Candice took Toni’s hand in hers and held it tight. “Hey, you don’t have to worry about that now. I’m here, with you, in this nice bed. I’ve got your hand, You’re safe. Now I think we can lie back down and go to sleep, but as long as you know that I’ve got you. Ok?”

“Ok.” Toni said, nodding. Toni eased back onto the bed and kept a strong hold of Candice’s hand. Candice stayed up until she felt the strong grip loosen and loosen until she looked over and saw her sleeping. Candice, upon seeing that, was now content. She took a little longer, but she also eventually fell back to sleep as well, dreaming of her Prince Charming..

“Rise and shine, people! Up and at them. Time for breakfast.” Johnny shouted as the clock struck 8:00 am. Seeing as they were normally early risers, Johnny decided to let them sleep in a bit but now, he was ready. The three women sleepily walked out of the bedroom, still sore but less so than last night.

“Morning honey.” Candice said as she walked over and kissed her husband to greet him. She did smirk at the gagging sounds done by Dakota and Toni mocking her for her show of affection.

“Get a room you two.” Toni said, feeling much better after her nightmare last night.

“It’s our house, thank you very much. So what do you have prepared for us today, Chef Gargano?” Candice said laughing.

“Well, with some.... ok a lot of help from Raquel, we got up early, and we made toast and eggs and sandwiches and we got orange juice and water. All you need for a lovely breakfast to give you a good start to the day.” Johnny said, looking quite proud of his accomplishment, well, his and Raquel’s accomplishment.

“I didn’t know you could cook.” Dakota admitted to her large friend.

“You never asked. Ten months together and you never once asked if I could cook?” Raquel questioned with an air of lightheartedness surrounding it.

“Never got the chance?” Dakota said in response.

“Eat your damn breakfast. I worked hard on it so you best enjoy it.” Raquel said smiling as she sat down to eat, which gave the cue to everyone else to dig in.

“Yes, sir.” Dakota said saluting the Texan. The five of them sat down and ate their well-prepared breakfast, talking about the matches and how it went. Johnny and Candice spoke about bringing in Austin and Indi full time to train them. Toni talked about challenging Io, much to the annoyance of Raquel, but they agreed they’d settle in the ring when the time came. Dakota, to what she thought was away from Candice’s view, snuck food under the table for Pawdme, until Candice caught her but allowed her to give one piece to the dog before she had to stop. Eventually the breakfast was finished and Toni, Raquel and Dakota said their goodbyes and went home. Later that day, the Garganos were having a chat about the experience.

“I really think we should do this more often,” Johnny said as he kissed Candice’s arm injured, “of course, hopefully when you’re not hurt.”

“Well, the next time that WarGames comes around....,” Candice said as she kissed his cheek before slapping him on the head, “you go in the cage instead.” she said, laughing as Johnny rubbed his head in pain.

#candice lerae #toni storm #raquel gonzalez #dakota kai #johnny gargano #wargames #nxt #fanfic #fanficiton #wwe fanfiction #angst #comfort #fluff #friendship

3 notes · View notes

thiswanderinghope · 4 years

Text

Snapshots of a Summertime Sadness || Taylor & Hope

@taylorvoxx

It wasn't said aloud, but it was heavily implied that Hopes new foster sibling was less than fond of the idea of taking Hope with her to the carnival that had rolled into town. In circumstances like these Hope usually tried her best to keep the peace with the family she was staying with, she would usually claim to not want to go, or to feel sick just to lessen the stress on her new foster family. But on this instance she'd already been with them a week and she knew the strain was already there. The family was struggling with new broken appliances already and Hope knew this was only the beginning. So to get out of the house was for the best. Take herself and her bad luck elsewhere. Not only that, but she wanted to go to the carnival. Even if this feeling was an afterthought. It wasn't long before her foster sister got a text and was more than ready to ditch her. And ditch her she did. A little bit of money was stuffed into her hand to amuse herself and not snitch to their guardians before Tori was off between attractions and into the arms of her new boyfriend. Hope left in her wake, upset for herself but not able to hold onto that feeling as nausea from someone getting off a nearby ride overtook her. Curling up to let the feeling pass she didn't realize she'd stopped dead in front of another person. Potentially toppling them over.

Taylor relished in her Dad’s trust in her, and his trust that this small town was safe. It meant she was granted with freedoms a lot of kids her age wouldn’t dream of. She had a couple friends that still had babysitters at age 15, or at least always had to go somewhere with another friend, but here Taylor was, off on her own to the annual town carnival, driving a truck she technically wasn’t licensed to drive to get there. She liked being off on her own. It meant she wasn’t being forced out onto the boat with her Dad at least. Or getting educated about the fishing business like that was all that ever passed through the man’s mind. Even surrounded by people, she could be at peace being alone among others. If it just meant getting away. Munching on her corn dog slathered in mustard, Taylor wasn’t watching where she was going, and a mistimed step sent her right into the back of someone in front of her. She was able to keep her balance though, and at the cost of her corn dog hitting the hay-strewn ground, she reached out to catch the girl she’d ran into as well. “Shit! I’m sorry. You okay?”

Hope stumbled when a body collided with hers, arms flying out to catch herself if she fell. Luckily for her the person who'd bumped into her had caught her and they both steadied each other. The first thing Hope noticed with the corn on the ground and she almost reached for it before thinking better of it. Whoever it was would definitely not be eating any more of that off the ground. Especially with all that straw sticking to the sauce. "I'm sorry!" Hope says turning around to apologise properly. "Felt sick for a second, didn't think stopping would be so wasteful!" She looks down at the corn and then back up to the person she'd denied food. "I can get you another?" She tries a smile.

When the girl turned around to apologize, any ill will Taylor might have had for the accident drained from her body. She looked uncomfortable and she was being so polite and kind anyway. Taylor took her hands off the girl once she was steady, glancing at the corn dog but mostly focusing on the girl’s smile. “What? Oh, no, don’t worry about it. It was like my third one today I probably didn’t need it,” she joked, shrugging her shoulders, the flannel shirt she wore over a tee-shirt blowing back in the light breeze, her ponytail joining suit. “I hope you’re feeling better?” Taylor asked. “Was it something you ate? Or you think you need to eat something?” Her instincts took over. She’d always been a nurturing person, even to strangers. “I’m Taylor, by the way. You here with anybody?” She didn’t know why that suddenly felt like such a weighted question.

Hope wasn't one to argue, so she simply smiled a little bigger at the other in thanks for being understanding. She really had to get better at crowds, she'd forgotten that out and about could be just as overwhelming as home with the stress that something else might go wrong. "Still a shame, I really am sorry." Hope intoned still. Given that the boy with the nausea had moved well out of her way Hope had no trouble perking up trying to show the other that she was perfectly fine, nothing to worry about. "Oh, yes. I feel much better I just needed to stop moving for a minute I think." she fibbed easily. "I'm Hope. I was here with someone but-" she laughed then, trying to show that it was okay. "She ditched me for her boyfriend. It's okay though, we don't know each other all that well so I understand. I'm not holding you up from going somewhere am I?"

“Hope. That’s cute,” Taylor commented with a smile. “Most people around here have those God fearin’ Christian names,” she added, emphasizing with an exaggerated southern accent, before ditching it just as quickly. “I know like five Marys and four Matthews and that’s just in my class.” She smiled again, suddenly feeling awkward about what she’d just said. “But I like Hope.” She cleared her throat then, kicking at the ground with her boot. “Uh, no! I was just walking around checking out what all they got this year. Ferris wheel is new. Didn’t have the budget for it til now I think. Had a bad bout of fishing last year and that’s basically what runs the town. Live for die by the ocean currents, ya know?” Was she rambling? She felt like she was rambling. “You want some company?” Taylor asked. She’d come out here to be alone but the question had slipped out before she could stop herself.

Hope wasn't from anywhere near here. But she'd bounced around so many of the available foster homes that the closest open spot had been out of state. So it was funny to hear a local perspective, in a just as fun put on accent. Hope laughed a little and beamed. "Well I'm not really from Rhode Island so maybe that's why I'm not another Mary." Taylor was rambling a little, and definitely about a topic Hope knew absolutely nothing about as well. Small town like this she might pick up a few things about the ins and outs, but it was unlikely she'd be here that long. All she could do was smile vaguely at Taylor and nod when she felt it was the right moment. "I'd love some!" Hope answered as soon as the words left Taylors lips. This was a person she had a shot with, someone who didn't know her from before, didn't live with her, and was maybe a little closer in age than her foster sister Tori. "I mean if you don't mind? I just really like having people around." Taylors presence was calming, Hope herself not yet sure why, but would later reflect that maybe it was the dulled emotions, and her open attitude.

One month later

She bounced into the bathroom and hopped up on the counter with an excited grin. Taylor had agreed to help her bleach her hair and she couldn't have been more excited. They'd bought dye, they had toner and she was more than ready to get this show on the road. Hope didn't quite know what her foster parents would think, but she wasn't really worrying about that, she was far more concerned at the time with Taylor walking into the room as well. "Do you think it'll be okay? I mean even if it turns straw yellow that's okay right? Schools not in for ages yet, so it'll have time to not be so mad."

Ever since that night at the carnival, Taylor and Hope had been inseparable. They'd had an instant connection. Two loners out looking for someone to understand and support them. Lift them up. It was a no brainer. Taylor loved spending time with Hope, and she'd stayed at Taylor's house already that summer more often than she was with her foster family. Taylor didn't mind. She felt like she'd never get tired of the girl. And Taylor's Dad was out fishing more often than not, so the girls had the house to themselves. Domestic bliss in their early teens. It was...really nice. That Saturday evening, Hope had commented on Taylor's currently bright blue hair (she was constantly dying it different colors), saying she wanted a cool color too. And now here they were in the bathroom, Hope up on the counter and Taylor's hands shaking as she approached, not really sure why. "It'll be fine, don't worry. I'm an expert, remember?" she joked, mixing the bleach powder up with the developer in a small bowl. She looked up and flashed Hope a crooked smile. "If it's straw yellow we'll just add a little color to it and say we wanted pastel all along. Easy peasy."

Hope kicked her feet with nervous energy, but there was no going back now. She'd spent what little allowance she had from a previous foster home on the developer and she definitely wanted to see what she'd look like with anything other than black hair for once. Feeling a tingle down her spine Hope tenses and her eyes catch sight of the shower curtain fluttering slightly. Her chill was back, goosebumps erupting on her arms as Taylor mixed dye. Hopes eyes followed the movement of the curtain and then hopped down off the counter to put herself between the chill and Taylor. Hoping to deflect any intent it had. Smiling like nothing was wrong as the light flickered a little. "My shirt is white, that'll be fine right? We won't have to throw it away or anything?" she said casually.

It was cute how nervous Hope was, kicking her feet as she sat on the counter. The medicine cabinet behind Hope was open, hiding the mirror because, well, Taylor didn't like to look at herself. And by herself, she meant the weird monster she always saw in her reflection. She was used to it by now, but avoided it when she could. Taylor felt a chill in the air as Hope hopped down off the counter, but just chalked it up to the nervous energy in the room. "Oh, uh, I have a couple towels I used specifically when I'm dying my hair, but you might want to take your shirt off just in case." The moment she said it, Taylor felt a lump form in her throat, and she did her best to swallow it down. "It's, uh, all mixed up! Come sit down when you're ready," Taylor said, clearing her throat and gesturing to the folding chair she'd brought into the bathroom, a towel already thrown over the back of it. She set the bowl of dye down and pulled on some gloves, biting her lip to stamp down her nervous energy.

The suggestion didn't strike Hope as anything to be worried over. She was more focused on what her foster family would think if she had ruined a shirt doing something that she already likely wasn't allowed to be doing. This family were stricter than most, but not about anything Hope felt was important. She had been spending so much time just out of sight and out of mind, staying at Taylors house when her dad was gone. But she was confident that a ruined shirt would go down like a ton of bricks. The chill rose up her back and then it was gone. The light stopped flickering and Hope instantly set about continuing on as if nothing happened. She pulled her t-shirt over her head and sat down in the chair quickly. Hope drew her knees up and she crossed them where she was seated in the dining chair. "When did you dye your hair the first time? What colour did you go?"

Taylor felt a very soft gasp escape her as Hope removed her shirt. It wasn't like they hadn't seen each other change in all the time they'd spent together. She'd even seen this bra before, the one with the red stars on it. They were girls, after all. Nothing weird about changing in front of each other, right? But something about this situation just struck a chord. A beautiful one, allowed to ring out and echo around the small tiled room. As Hope sat down, Taylor picked up the towel and draped it over Hope's shoulders. It was an ugly shade of brown and spotted with orange bleach stains and lots of splatters of color. Like a tapestry telling a story of Taylor's rebellion and insecurity. She picked up the bowl and the brush and started at Hope's roots, slathering the bleach on as she spoke. "Two years ago, when I was thirteen. It was my birthday and my Dad was feeling guilty because he had to go out on the water, so he told me I could 'break one rule' and I chose to dye my hair purple." She shrugged as she continued to work. "I was getting teased a lot then. Shitty friends from elementary school decided to turn on me for no reason. It felt like a shield. Like a helmet to keep all the negativity away." She bit her lip, chuckling awkwardly. "It's...stupid. I know."

Her knees bounced as they talked, her eyes on the bottles in the medicine cabinet just for something to look at while Taylor set about putting the bleach on her hair. Hope bit her lip when the first brush stroke cemented what was to be done and then relaxed back into the chair after that. It was too late to go back now. A whole head of blonde would surely be better than a panicked one singular stripe of orange if she were ti back down now. "It's not dumb I like it. I think coloured hair is so cool, I've just never had the opportunity to do it before. Never stayed anywhere with friends who had hair coloured like yours." she admitted. Though it was no secret that Hope had bounced around, her non accent and obvious lack of personal belongings showed that just fine on it's own. "School is really terrible for mean people." Hope then adds. "I've been to loads of schools, and there are always people who just complain and moan." She might be a bit of a gossip herself, but she tried not to be malicious with it. She just liked to know things mainly. To know things was a nice safe way to be. She lived her life in an avalanche of uncertainty after all. "Well I'm 13 now, so it's my turn." Hope beamed at the wall, not moving her head so that she didn't bother Taylor who was busy.

Taylor instantly felt bad complaining. Hope had it so much worse than her, and here she was complaining about some mean ex-friends when Hope didn't even have a permanent home. She knew it wasn't a contest on who's life was worse or anything, but still. At least Taylor still had her Dad... "Wait, you're younger than me? I wouldn't have guessed that," Taylor admitted, surprised this hadn't come up until now. "You're so mature." Probably because she had to be. "I...really admire you. Like, a lot. Even with all the bullshit you're still so positive and bubbly and full of like, joy and good vibes and shit. It's fascinating to me." She started working the bleach out into the strands of hair now that she was done with the roots, already seeing it lightening before her eyes. "Your hair is gonna match the ball of pretty sunshine I see you as..." God, that was stupid. "I mean...I don't know what I mean. Ignore me." Why had she said that?

They'd spent the first half of summer together constantly, and yet Hope still felt a small little paranoid pit of dread sink into her stomach when she heard Taylor point out that she was younger with surprise. She felt she knew the other girls so well, and still a little part of her braced for the worst. The speech her foster sister had given not yesterday about not wanting to hang around with 'children' so much younger than herself. What followed was far from her fears however and her face broke out in a smile once again. "I don't know. I do get sad sometimes, but you're so much fun. It's hard to be upset when I'm having such a good time." Hope admitted, taking a moment to shift her head just sightly to the side so that she could look at Taylor out of the corner of her eye. "You think I'm pretty?"

The silence rang in the room like microphone feedback, almost throbbing in her ears as she tried to just focus on getting the rest of Hope's hair covered in bleach and stacked up on her head. When Hope finally did speak, Taylor couldn't help but smile to herself. "It's okay to be sad," she said quickly. "You can be sad around me to, if you need to be." She worked her gloved fingertips into Hope's scalp. There was something weirdly intimate about the whole ordeal now. "But I'm glad you're happy around me. That like, means a lot..." When Hope turned a bit to look at her, Taylor retracted her hands, thinking she might have pulled her hair or done something wrong. But the question Hope asked made Taylor's throat go dry. She'd told lots of people in the past they were pretty. It was like, a thing people did to boost each other's egos, right? Why did this feel so different? "Uh, yeah, I do. You're beautiful, Hope," she practically whispered. "Your bright soul shines in your eyes every time you smile." What the fuck was that? She needed to abort mission and fast. "Oh, your hair is done. We need to let it sit for a bit though.”

Maybe Hope was a little too absorbed in how that made her feel that she missed the expression on Taylors face as she said it. Her heart felt light at the admission. She'd never really gotten a compliment like that before. Usually you'd hear things like that from your family when you were young, with no one to really say as much she was rather taken in that moment with the words. Hope slides to sit sideways on the chair beaming up at Taylor. "You're beautiful too." she responds. "Really cool. You're my favourite thing about this town, about this state actually. I hope I get to stay a long time here with you." she admitted not realizing how upsetting that might sound to the other girl. It implied that she would be going at some point. but to Hope that was just an inevitability. Distracted easily by her hair being done, Hope hops to her feet and swings the mirror of the medicine cabinet around so that she could see, but what she saw behind her caught her attention much more than her hair. Her heart races and she freezes in place. Was this a manifestation of her chill? She didn't know. But that wasn't Taylor behind her, or at least it didn't look like it.

Taylor's stomach knotted up as Hope called her beautiful, and she reached back to rub the back of her neck with a crooked, sheepish smile. "Heh, thanks. Not many interesting things in this town though. I don't have a lot of competition," she joked, trying to defuse the weird tension mounting in the room. She had caught the bit about leaving one day, but was just trying not to think about it. "No, wait--!" But it was too late, Hope had already swung the mirror back and she'd definitely saw Taylor's reflection. Until now, she thought she'd been the only one to see it. Her Dad had never mentioned it, and he'd seen her in the mirror plenty of times. She ducked down, out of sight of the mirror, hitting the floor and falling backwards into the shelf behind her, extra bottles of shampoo and body wash crashing to the floor. "Shit," she spat as the tops flew off a couple of the bottles and they started to leak onto the tile floor.

Hope's mounting fear over this being what had been haunting her since birth fell apart when Taylor reacted like she could see it too, like she knew it was coming. It couldn't be her ghosts, no one ever believe her about her ghosts. But Taylors reaction brought about a new nervousness. She continued staring in the mirror just to make sure the image wasn't lingering with Taylor ducking out of the way, but there was no other way about it. That had been Taylor. A little bubble of fear took hold of Hope but she stayed put. Unsure what to say or do next. Her best friend. The girl dying her hair, letting her sleep over every week. Was there something to fear? She was frozen, battling with herself. Hands gripped to the sink Hope felt herself pale. "What..?"

Hope's reaction had been exactly what Taylor had feared. Well, not exactly. She'd expected a bit more screaming and freaking out. But Hope was frozen in fear, and Taylor didn't know if that was worse. "You saw it too, didn't you?" Taylor pulled herself to her feet, the monster appearing behind Hope again in the reflection. And when Taylor's spoke, its lips moved as well. "This isn't what it looks like. Actually, I don't...I don't know what it is at all," she admitted, moving to sit on the edge of the tub, out of sight of the mirror altogether. "Please don't be scared of me. I'm already scared enough for the two of us," she said, tears threatening her eyes, but she tried her damndest to hold them back. "As long as I can remember, my reflection has been that...thing. That monster. I don't know what it means. What it makes me...especially now that I know it's not just all in my head." She held her head in her hands, covering her face. Right next to her ear, the timer she'd set on her watch started to go off, and it made her jump before she quickly pressed the button to silence it. "You, uh, you need to rinse your hair."

Hope stared into the mirror as 'Taylor' reappeared in it. The second glance wasn't any less terrifying as the first, but at least this time she was expecting it. She stared with wide eyes as it spoke, in exact timing with Taylor and then ducked back out of sight. She didn't understand. She didn't know what to do. But she felt Taylors sadness, it was muffled as per usual, but it was still there. She was incredibly upset. She didn't feel like she was lying, like she had malicious intent. Maybe this was why her usually so clear indications of what someone was feeling was so blissfully dull around the other girl. She was something else entirely. Loosening her hold on the sink she glances over to see just normal Taylor sitting on the edge of the bath. Normal. Regular. With a freaky reflection Taylor. "You don't know why?" she echoed tentatively. Her hair was the last thing she wanted to worry about. "I uh......right." she said unmoving.

"I always thought it was just in my head. Like an imaginary friend that just wouldn't take a hint once I grew up," she said quietly. There was no point in hiding any of it now. "But you can see it, which means it's really. It's out there, in the world, whatever it is. Whatever I am? Fucking hell..." She held her face in her hands again, letting the tears leak out now, wiping them away as quickly as they fell. "No. I just know I'm a fucking freak..."

Their stories were so similar yet so far apart. Both of them had something they couldn't explain, both of them hoping that one day whatever it was would just go away. Both of them still living with it. Both just as terrifying admissions. Hope sees the tears, and feels a fraction of the sorror from the older girl and she was unable to do anything but approach her. Hope moved towards Taylor and reaches out tentatively to admit with a shaking breath of her own. "I'm haunted. I'm not...... completely normal either."

As Hope approached her, Taylor flinched just a little, not really sure what to expect. But a gentle hand rested on her and she quickly and quite greedily took it in her own. She needed the contact. The reassurance she was still touchable. Lovable. Worth having around. "Haunted?" she asked, confused as she looked up at Hope finally. "You mean like, metaphorically with all the shit you've been through or like...legit ghosts?" She tried her best not to sound judgy or anything. Now wasn't the time for her usual sarcasm. Her eyes flicked up to Hope's hair, still piled on top of her head as the bleach was starting to crust. "You really need to rinse that out, dude," she said with a little nervous chuckle.

Hope didn't quite know how to answer so she decided to save her hair before they really got into it. She shook her head a little and gestures for the sink. "Help me wash this out?" it was a tentative ask. Taylor looked like she could break down, she felt like she was on the verge as well. But Hope's confidence in her grew in that moment. She still felt the same, she still felt -even if it was a little blurry- like she wouldn't do her any harm. She was willing to trust her gut as she leaned over the sink and turned on the tap to start washing her long hair out. It felt like such a bad moment to be doing something so trivial but there she was.

Taylor took notice of the lack of answer, but she simply nodded as Hope asked for help, getting to her feet and opening the cabinet again so she wouldn't catch her reflection. She ran her hands through Hope's hair, feeling shivers up her arms as she did so. Being trusted to touch her again, after what she'd just seen, it meant more to Taylor than Hope would ever know. Once it was all rinsed out, Taylor handed her a towel and moved to sit back on the tub out of sight, swinging the mirror back in place for Hope to see herself. "It looks great," Taylor complimented. "Even without the toner."

She didn't even glance at her own reflection for a moment, smoothing her hand over her head and wiped the water out of her eyes to look back at Taylor, as if to make sure she was still the same. Although she was still a pre-teen girl, so she did spare a glance when she was complimented. She'd forgotten she was nervous at all, but she was glad that it did actually look good on her. She'd rather have the toner, but she was relieved to find it worked out well. Hope ignored herself again and wraped her hair up in the towel to dry and bites her lip looking at Taylor again. She opened her mouth to start out by saying that she wasn't crazy, but stopped herself when she remembered what she'd just seen would also constitute as crazy in anyone elses eyes. "I'm haunted...like..........ghost haunted I think."

Taylor had never believed in ghosts. It seemed to far fetched, even with her weird monster friend in the mirror. But something about Hope made her believe, even if only a little. It was hard not to, seeing the distress on her face, feeling it coming off her in waves almost. "I believe you," she said softly, reaching out to take her hands. "That's what friends are for, right?"

Yet another month.

It was coming up for the end of summer when Hope finally found out. She'd had an inkling, but something about Taylor had lead her to dream bigger than her life usually was. She'd been gearing up for a new school, maybe even a school she'd manage to stay in for the whole year. But on a Sunday morning, with no warning from her foster family, her social worker appeared at the door with a sad smile and a soft hand. But this wasn't like the other times she'd been sent away from a family, she'd noticed her ghost activity had really picked up since her and Taylor had dyed her hair but she'd really been hopeful that this time it'd be different for the better, not what she was getting now. Hope started to panic and upset herself, her social worker thought she'd been told a week ago when the arrangements were made, and so as not to stir the pot Hope didn't correct him. Instead she let the tears fill her eyes and wandered upstairs to 'collect her things'. In actuality, Hope swung a leg out the window and was off like a shot towards Taylors house. She frantically knocked and as soon as she saw her friends face she started to speak, making no sense. "PROMISE YOU'LL WRITE TO ME."

Taylor herself had been preparing for the school year. The thought of starting high school was scary, but it was nice to know that she’d have a friend to fall back on in Hope, even if she was at a different school. Friends before now had always been hit or miss with Taylor. She had a couple, but she always felt like an afterthought. Not with Hope though. Hope was always on Taylor’s mind, and she could only imagine Hope felt somewhat the same, especially after what they’d admitted to each other. The knock on the door was so frantic it scared Taylor a little. Per usual, her Dad was on the water, and he’d asked her to come with him but she’d refused. Fishing with him had less and less appeal as she got older. Hoping up from the sofa, she tugged the door open to see Hope peering back at her, eyes wet and voice desperate. “What? What’s the matter?” Taylor asked, confused, as she ushered Hope inside.

Hope rushed in and wrapped her arms around Taylor. Her arms wrapped around the other and she starts to explain. Her voice hurried as if she was being chased and had to get it all out before it was too late. Which was sort of true, back in her foster familys home they'd discovered her missing, they were searching the house. Her social worker very concerned as she'd never done this before. "They're taking me away. The Davidsons didn't say a word but it was all finalised last week that I'm to be going back to Maine to a new family. They didn't even tell me, and I'm supposed to be packing right now but I climbed out the window and I'm going to be in so much trouble but I needed to know if you'd write to me, please say you'll write to me!"

Taylor instinctively wrapped her arms around Hope, holding her tight. Why did this feel like it had such a finality to it. And then Hope spilled the beans and Taylor felt tears springing to her eyes. “You’re leaving?” she asked dumbly, backing up to get a good look at Hope’s face. She wished it was some sick joke, but she could feel in her bones it was true. “Of course I’ll write to you!” she assured her, pulling her back into a hug, burying her face in Hope’s shoulder as she sniffles back the sorrow that had pierced through her like an arrow to the heart. “I’ll write so much you’ll get tired of me.” Taylor mentally noted she’d be giving the Davidsons a piece of her mind later, one way or another. But right now her focus was on Hope. “Fuck, I’m gonna miss you. I knew this would happen, but not so damn soon...” and before she could have another thought, before she could even think about hesitating, she pulled back and then leaned in, pressing her lips against Hope’s, doing the only thing that felt natural, because she probably wouldn’t get another chance.

It was a lovely sentiment, and it eased a little of Hopes anxieties about having to move to yet another town, yet another family, yet another school. To know Taylor was going to stay in contact meant everything. Hope clung to the other girl tightly, as they spoke her foster family were already directing her social worker towards Taylors house. She'd been there so often it was unlikely she'd be anywhere else after all. So they didn't have a lot of time. "I'm gonna miss you too." Hope responded, although her teary eyes widened in shock as Taylor presses their lips together. She's flabbergasted when the older girl pulls away. Shocked and unsure how to respond. That had been her first kiss, and amongst all the stress she felt that moment she was dazed and confused. "Wha-?"

Taylor pulled back quickly, her mind finally catching up with her actions and slapping her in the face with them. “I—I’m sorry, I—“ But words were lost in her throat, barely able to squeeze past the lump forming there. “I just, I thought—fuck...” Just then there was a knock at the door, a hard rap that startled the both of them. That sort of angry patience that was somehow scarier than pure anger. The social worker called to Hope through the door, and they knew their time was up.

In that moment Hope didn't have time to process the moment, she only had time to give Taylor another hug. Arms wrapped around the other girl again tightly, no time to address the kiss as she feels the anxious energy of her social worker, probably worried and hoping beyond anything that he'd find Hope there. "Please write me, I'll send the first one i know you're address but I don't know what mine will be." She mumbled into Taylor shoulder. But then she had to go. She turns and opens the door to face the music.

#C: Taylor #~Flashback~#p: Chatzy #bold = taylor

7 notes · View notes

ebelwrites · 5 years

Text

MutantAlienTrash’s Raffle Prize

So, Mutantalientrash, after a long wait, here’s your raffle prize. It might be a little more ‘getting-to-know-each-other’ and ‘becoming-a-family’ than ‘bad sans poly’, but I hope you like it anyways! This one’s a doozy. And sorry again about the wait.

“And you will serve me, and only me?” Nightmare circled the figure kneeling before his throne. The monochrome skeleton was on one knee, head bowed, and the glowing red sword was gripped in one hand. Nightmare circled the newcomer again, curious. There was strength in this one, and anger. Lots of anger, though he did a good job of hiding it. Nightmare was mildly impressed by the other’s ability to hide his emotions.

“Only you, my king.” Nightmare grinned, taking his position back in front of the kneeling skeleton. He could barely believe his luck, finding such a powerful monster before anyone else. Dream would have tried to temper the other’s anger, try to force him to let go of his desire to make others pay for the hurt he endured. But Nightmare was not his brother, far from it, and it was far more in his interests to nurture this monster’s need for vengeance. He could already foresee great outcomes for himself and his crew if he could keep this one complacent at his side.

“And you will obey my orders? You shall place yourself in my hands?”

“Yes, my king.”

“Then rise.” The other stood quickly, back straight and face set in stone. Nightmare walked towards him, gaze firmly on the other’s face. He noted the red eye and scar, they stood out so vividly on the otherwise black and white skeleton; what an appealing contrast.

“From this day, you are one of my people. You will obey my orders and carry out your duties. In return, I shall provide you with all that you need and want.” Nightmare could feel the desire within the other rise, the roiling tumble of emotions surging just beneath the surface. Nightmare wondered if the other could decipher what it was that he was feeling. “You will be shown the training area later and a test of your skills will occur in a few days. For now, I recommend that you eat and rest; the others will show you to your room. You are dismissed.” With that, Nightmare broke their gaze. He stepped back, and let Cross gather himself. To the newcomer’s credit, it didn’t take him long to find his footing again, and the monochrome skeleton made his way to the door.

“Oh,” Cross froze at the sound of his voice and turned back to face him. “And do try to lighten up a bit. You’ll find that your new comrades are quite vibrant; you aren’t going to be thrown out a window for showing some emotion.” Cross’ face flushed a deep purple at that; interesting, Nightmare thought it would have been red. The other gave him a stiff nod, shaking off the majority of the blush before exiting the room. Once he was gone, Nightmare let himself give a small smile.

“Dear Cross; I get the feeling you are going to be quite interesting.”

Horror cast another glance over at the newest member of their group. The other skeleton was standing at the entrance of the kitchen, looking around like he didn’t know what to expect or where to go. Horror watched Cross wring his hands, back perfectly straight, and he wondered how old the other skeleton actually was. He gave off the air of being both too young and too tired; one forced to be an adult before they were done being a child. Horror shook his head to clear it. It wasn’t any of his business and they didn’t know each other well enough yet for it to become his business. Horror fidgeted in the silence; he was used to everyone trying to speak over each other, but Cross hadn’t said a single word to him.

“Well, don’t just stand around like a spare end.” Cross jumped as he spoke, widened sockets turning in his direction. “Stew’s almost done, can you set the table for us?” The monochrome skeleton nodded at him and turned to the nearest cupboard. Horror watched with mild fascination as the other skeleton tried to find the bowls and the honest joy when he succeeded in doing so.

“Good job. Thanks.” Cross blinked at him like he wasn’t used to being thanked. Horror tried to give him a smile that wasn’t terrifying and maybe succeeded? Cross didn’t look frightened at least. He scooped the stew into the two bowls and took one for himself, leaving Cross with the other, and lead them over to the table. A spoon-chuck later, Horror was mildly impressed that the unprepared skeleton managed to snatch the cutlery out of the air, and they set to eating.

“It’s good.” Horror almost dropped his spoon at the sound of the soft voice. Cross was looking away from him, clearly not intending to say anything more, but that little was enough to bring a grin to Horror’s face.

“Thanks!” Cross shyly looked back over to him, and Horror watched as some of the stiffness in the other’s shoulders came undone. A tiny smile crossed the monochrome skeleton’s face, the first Horror had seen, and it only made Horror grin even wider. It faded as quickly as a shooting star and Cross returned his attention to his bowl. Horror found himself missing it already, and wondering when he’d get his next smile.

Killer laughed as he dodged another attack, sending his own attack as soon as he had his feet steady. The newcomer, Cross, he was a good opponent. Quick and fierce, though maybe a bit too intense for what was intended to be a friendly sparring match, but it suited Killer just fine. The other dodged his attack and rushed him with the claymore that he’d picked from the weapons room; it had been decided that his hack knife was a little too much for a casual spar but he’d wanted a weapon of some kind. Killer thought it suited him well and was perhaps a little smitten over how long Cross had spent in said weapons room, checking the balance of each weapon carefully and giving his final picks a few test swings. There was a monster who knew how to pick a weapon.

Killer leapt back out of range and a large grin overtook his face as he spied an opening. This time when Cross charged him, instead of leaping back, he slid forward. The sudden loss of height startled Cross, a mistimed swing left him off balance, and it was all too easy for Killer to kick Cross’ feet out from under him, knocking the monochrome skeleton to the floor with a loud crash. Killer pounced and pinned the other to the floor, his knife loosely at the other’s neck.

“I win.” His grin had not diminished in the slightest. Cross struggled briefly before hanging his head. Killer frowned, he was oddly sombre for a simple loss.

“Hey, come on. Cheer up. Maybe next time.” He removed the knife and let go of Cross, rolling off the other and starting to make his way to their stock of healing items. “Come on, heal time. You got some good hits in on me, and I know I landed a few on you.” He turned back with a smile but it dropped quickly into confusion. Cross was still on the floor, looking up at him in confusion.

“We are allowed to heal?” Killer had to process for a few moments what Cross had said because he honestly couldn’t believe it. “Wounds aren’t left to serve as a lesson to be better?”

“Who the fuck have you been sparring before now?!” Killer practically flies across the room, yanking Cross up by the hand and shepherding him off towards their healing stock. “That’s not how we do it here! Not at all! You are going to get a cinnabun in you and you are going to rest and I’m going to make sure that happens because What The Fuck?!”

And while he was busy fussing, Killer completely missed the tiny and tender smile that lit up Cross’ face.

Dust landed next to the newest member of the group, almost perfectly silent. To Cross’ credit, he barely flinched as the other skeleton unexpectedly dropped from the ceiling. The faint glow of the moon was the only light for the scene, other than the signature red knife the monochrome skeleton wielded. Dust eagerly awaited for when Cross would become more at ease with the group so that he could question him on where exactly he’d gotten such a unique weapon.

“It’s late.” No clock was present for him to check, but Dust was certain that it was past midnight by now. “Why ya up and roamin’ the hallways?” The other glanced around, almost like he was expecting some sort of trick, before he answered.

“Patrolling. Keeping watch.” Dust raised a non-existent eyebrow at him; kid had a need to work that put the boss to shame.

“If ya that eager to start work, ya better off talkin’ to the boss tomorrow mornin’ than assignin’ it to yaself. At least ya get a full night sleep that way.”

“I can’t sleep. I, uh,” The other moved to wring his hands before remembering there was a weapon in one of them. “One of my powers goes out of control if I do.”

Now that made Dust more intrigued. The monochrome skeleton had gotten slightly more talkative over the past few days, but not by much. Getting anything more than one or two-word sentences from him was like pulling teeth. And that pause in the middle…

“Ah don’ believe ya.” Cross’ eye sockets widened and he didn’t seem to know if he should fold in on himself or straighten up tall, but Dust kept his casual posture. “Look, you and ah don’ know each other that well yet. If ya don’ wanna tell, that’s fine but don’ lie about it. Does the boss know the truth, at least?” Cross nodded, looking down, and Dust shook his head with a smile. “Then no worries. Ah trust the boss knows what he’s doin’.”

“For now, do ya want some company? Ah tend to do a patrol myself at night, it’s better with someone to do it with.” Cross looked up; an unrecognisable look flashed across his face before he nodded. Dust grinned. “Then let’s get a-movin’. Lotta castle to cover before dawn.” With that, he slung an arm around Cross’ shoulders and led them through the castle. And as the hours droned on, he watched as the stiff and shy creature slowly began to loosen and smile. It made him smile too.

“Who are you?” The unknown voice made Error look up from his needles. He looked the stranger up and down; black and white clothing, red scar, this must be the new kid Nightmare was telling him about. Said new kid was currently looking at him like he’d grown an extra head.

“Name’s Error.” That made the new skeleton’s eyes widen and he stood up straight.

“The world destroyer?”

“That’s me.”

“You are...knitting?” The kid only looked more confused, glancing from his current project to the window to Undernovella he was watching. “And...watching a soap opera?” Error only shrugged.

“I am the destroyer of worlds. I also happen to like knitting and soap operas. Is it that hard to believe?” According to the kid’s face, it really was. It was probably the closest thing he’d get to seeing a ‘crash’ on someone who wasn’t an ‘error’. He could practically see the ‘does not compute’ flashing above the other’s head. It was mildly amusing. When the other didn’t say anything, he turned back to his show. But he kept noticing Cross fidgeting from the corner of his eye.

“Why are you standing around?” He didn’t look away from the window as he spoke but he still caught sight of the flinch. “Why are you so awkward in your own home?”

“It’s not my home.” That got Error to look over at the other. He was staring at his hands as he wrung them. “I don’t… I don’t belong here. I don’t fit in.”

“You don’t fit in yet.” Error sighed, watching as the kid only shrunk in on himself more. “Look, you’ve been here, what, a week? Obviously, you’re not going to be feeling completely at ease here yet, no one would and no one has. You’d be surprised how rough around the edges your comrades were when Nightmare first picked them up. They smoothed over with time; you’ll do the same.” He watched a bit of light return to the skeleton’s sockets but he still remained coiled up. Error rolled his eyes and sent some strings to wrap around the monochrome skeleton’s wrist, tugging on it lightly.

“Now get over here and sit down. We’re getting to the good bit.” Confused and curious and maybe a little hopeful, Cross did as he was told. He glanced from the window to Error and back and appeared to be about to ask something when he was interrupted.

“Oh, sweet! Is that Undernovella?” Killer had exclaimed from the doorway and, as if the shout was a magical summoning chant, Horror and Dust soon appeared beside him. Within seconds, all three had crowded around Cross, chattering happily with each other and with the silent Cross about Undernovella and drama and you’re gonna love this, Cross, watch!

Rather than being smothered by the three brighter personalities, Cross seemed to relax just a bit, not so much tension was held in his spine. When Killer threw an arm around his shoulders to help point out something, Cross didn’t flinch or back away. He was still shy, Error mused to himself, still so rough. But the others had been rough before too; unable to take a step without walking on eggshells and unable to speak without triple guessing themselves. They had healed, and Cross would heal too; he’d already started to, after all.

And so Error turned back to his knitting work with a smile, confident that it wouldn’t be too long before they got to meet the real Cross. He looked forward to meeting that person.

Nightmare’s face held a fond smile as he watched the scene from the doorway. Error was piled into an armchair, focused intently on his knitting. Undernovella was displayed in the window and Dust, Horror and Killer had sandwiched Cross between them. All three were talking at a million miles an hour, only quieting down for a dramatic moment for starting back up again. And his newest member, Cross; the monochrome skeleton sat wedged within the group. Not vocal, but not afraid. Not reaching out, but not withdrawing inwards. Killer handed the skeleton a chocolate bar and Nightmare watched as his eyes light up, taking a bite out of it with possibly the first carefree smile that he’d had since he’d arrived.

“Dear Cross,” he whispered to himself, eyes firmly on his boys, “I knew you’d be interesting… Welcome to our home, and now your home too.”

#bad sans poly #nightmare sans #cross sans #error sans #horror sans #killer sans #dust sans #mutantalientrash #raffle prize #I kinda really like how this turned out #maybe not 100% the original prompt #but I think it's still good #hope you feel the same Mutant #how many words was this sucker #i just checked #2500 words exactly #what a biggie #i'm glad to be back

103 notes · View notes

screamingatanemptyroom · 6 years

Text

Erin/Gerald Arc 2 Part 13

Next part to the series! So I’ve been thinking, what about a title like “Restricted Magic”? Open to other suggestions, If I think of any other ones I’ll post them too.

Link to Masterpost here.

Erin came to visit the practice field early the next day. She was expecting to find a quiet scene Gerald and Frederick diligently training. That was most definitely not the case.

Gerald stood tall, his face impassive, his arms crossed. Isabelle was close next to him, clutching some sort of box, sobbing uncontrollably. Richard, his brother was shouting while pointing a finger in the other boy’s face. All of this was being spectated by Frederick, who stood off to the side with a malicious grin while eating snacks. Erin approached him first; taking a handful of the salted treats and watched alongside him.

“What happened?” She asked quietly, staring at the dramatic scene before them.

“You missed the best part!” Frederick laughed. “Let me catch you up to speed: We were minding our own business, when the little psychotic princess comes over and offers Gerald some homemade food or whatever.” He raised an eyebrow as he glanced over at Erin. “Did you know she was trying to move in on your territory? Anyways, Gerald says ‘No, you stupid cow, screw off!’ like any respectable boyfriend would, although he was disappointingly much more polite about it.”

Erin was starting to get a headache. “And Richard?”

“I’m getting to it! Shush! So psycho starts sobbing about how Gerald doesn’t love her anymore and who would show up but her current fiancé!” He chuckled, his eyes flashing with delight. “Just too delightful. Now he’s shouting and here we are. Let’s listen.” He offered the bag over to Erin and she grabbed another handful, chewing quietly as they continued to watch the drama.

“Stay away from my fiancé!” Richard was spitting with rage.

Gerald sighed. “I don’t want your fiancé. You may or may not have noticed, but I have zero interest in that girl. I’m currently courting someone else!”

Isabelle sobbed louder. Richard turned to her irritably. “What are you crying about? You aren’t even engaged to Gerald anymore! Why were you trying to make him food in the first place?” Isabelle ignored him, continuing to look miserable.

“And Gerald! You may think that just because you found a girl that our parents approve of that you have a chance at the throne, but I have made my own plans, my own deals. I will be king, Gerald, NO MATTER WHAT!” With that, he grabbed his fiancé’s hand and stomped away.

“…” Gerald stared silently after them, frowning uncomfortably.

“Aww… just when it was starting to get interesting.” Frederick complained to Erin.

“Erin!” The frown melted away when Gerald saw her, his whole face lighting up with happiness. “You came by!”

“Thought I would drop in and check on how your practice was going.” She smiled. “Sorry, didn’t bring any homemade food to woo you with.”

Gerald shuddered. “Don’t know what that girl is thinking. She made it very clear she had no interest when she left me for my brother.”

“Maybe she has regrets?”

“Too bad, I don’t.” He reached out and hugged her, the embrace stretching out, as both were reluctant to let go.

“…” Frederick coughed uncomfortably. “Guys, do you want me to leave?”

They broke apart, laughing, both faces turning red. “Well, um… yeah… I’ll let you two get back to practice.” Erin looked back at Gerald one last time, grinning. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

Gerald spread his hands wide and shrugged. “Of course, I will be just fine, I promise.”

Frederick groaned. “Idiot, now you’re definitely going to die.”

“Shut up!”

The boys went back to fighting each other, and Erin walked away, the lighthearted conversation doing nothing to dispel the heavy feeling in her chest. Part of her wished that morning wouldn’t come.

Despite her wishes, the next day came and the tournament started. After introduction of the candidates, the fights for the first round were started. Erin stood on the sidelines, watching the arena before her, twisting her hands together. No matter how many fights she faced back when she was “worthless” even when she knew she was going to get hurt, it never scared her, never worried her. This feeling, this uncertainty as she watched Gerald prepare for his fights was new, foreign. It ate at her insides, making her wish she could do something, anything. Even screaming with frustration would be better than this silent stillness. As she was thinking this, however, a small hand reached out, grabbing her own. Startled, she looked down, smiling back at the cheerful face looking up at her.

“Maddie, are you here to watch your brother fight?”

The younger girl nodded. “Yep! At first he didn’t want me to watch, he was worried I’d be scared, but when I told him I would stay with you he said it was okay.”

“Aww, that’s sweet.”

“He also said to try to keep roping you in with being cute so that you want to be my sister and agree to marry him.”

“…” Erin stared blankly at Maddie’s guileless expression, before shaking her head slowly. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Frederick’s fight is starting!” Olivia pointed down at the arena. “Looks like he got one of the Royal academy guys, I don’t recognize him.”

Frederick and a similarly sized boy were circling each other, their hands out in a defensive posture. Frederick was uncharacteristically serious, as his eyes studied his opponent for a weak point.

“Ooh, I hope he gets pounded into the ground!” Olivia clapped her hands.

Erin felt she had to point out the flaw in that goal. “Olivia, he’s on our team. If he loses we lose too.”

“Not really.” Olivia shrugged. “We still have Gerald. Points are given to the top three spots. Right now after the first round, we’re in first with 3 points, Royal academy is second with 2, Merion is in third with 1, and the Sionelle Military Academy is last with 0 points.”

“Well, magical theory is not exactly the military student’s strong category.”

“Sure, they tend to dominate the combat oriented competitions, so they’ll make a comeback. We just have to stay in the top and consistently win points and we’ll keep up.“

Cheers directed their attention back down to the fight. Frederick had seized the other boy’s arm after a poorly attempted attack and threw him over his shoulder. As he landed with loud thump, the Royal Academy contestant found himself in a strangle hold and tapped out, leaving Frederick the winner.

He stood up and pumped his fist victoriously, wiping the sweat from his face as he returned to the bench where Gerald sat. Erin cheered loudly and gave him a thumbs up when the boy glanced in her direction. He grinned and returned the gesture.

“Oh well, I guess it’s good to win.” Olivia sighed loudly.

“Did I miss it?!” Catherine rushed to the sidelines next to them, bending over to catch her breath.

“Not yet!” Maddie let out a squeal of delight and threw herself at her older sister. “There’s still one more fight before Gerald comes on.”

In the arena below, two young men were already locked in combat. With a small shock, Erin recognized the representative from the military academy. It was Walter, the lackey of her father’s who she had lost to before leaving for the tournament. He was smiling viciously, obviously toying with his opponent, letting the other boy tire himself out before reaching out and casually breaking his arm.

The contestant from Merion Academy paled, and reached out with his good arm to tap out, but before he could, a foot stomped down on his hand, crushing it. Walter laughed at his opponent’s cry of pain, and began kicking the boy repeatedly, until the referee stepped in, indicating the Merion representative was too injured to continue.

Erin’s heart hurt. Growing up at her father’s side, she was used to such violent scenes, but now she imagined Gerald in the ring with this man… She gripped Maddie’s hand tightly, and the younger girl patted her arm to comfort her.

“Don’t worry Erin, he’ll be okay. I made sure of it!”

Erin smiled despite her worries. “How did you do that.”

“A good luck charm!” She winked, causing group to chuckle. The staff drug the unconscious boy off the arena grounds for healing, and quickly cleaned for the next round.

“It’s Gerald’s fight next!” Maddie jumped up and down with excitement.

Erin watched silently, clenching her free hand into a fist at her side. Gerald was waiting with a patient grin, watching his opponent draw closer. Seeing the black sash, Erin frowned with worry.

“It’s the other Military Academy representative.”

The boy was about the same height as Gerald, but seemed to outweigh him quite a bit, all of it muscle. It didn’t seem to bother the prince though, as he reached out and shook his opponent’s hand with a casual gesture. At the movement, Erin caught sight of a silver bracelet around Gerald’s wrist and was distracted.

“What is that he’s wearing?”

Maddie hugged Erin, staring down at the fight with an expectant expression. “It’s the good luck charm I gave him!”

“Oh.” Feeling slightly reassured, she continued to watch as the two young men circled each other. The military academy student made several attacks, but Gerald was obviously the faster of the two, slipping just beyond his reach with each attempt.

“Does he look okay?” Erin muttered, wondering if she was just being paranoid. Gerald’s face seemed paler than normal, his eyes darting around the arena as if distracted by something else. He mistimed a dodge, having his arm grabbed by the military academy representative. The larger boy grinned, trying to throw him to the ground, but Gerald moved with the momentum of the throw, putting him off balance. He slipped behind his opponent, the large arm now within his grasp instead of the other way around, and kicked out his legs, knocking him to the ground. Gerald sat on him, trying to hold him down with his weight. Struggling to escape, the military student didn’t stop moving until Gerald adjusted his grip and threatened to break his arm. Slowly, angrily, the boy reached over and tapped out, ending the fight.

Erin cheered loudly, joined by his two sisters and Olivia as Gerald returned to the St. Julienne’s bench. Her cheers quieted, then slowed and stopped as she took in Gerald’s shaking hands, his pale features. He rubbed his eyes repeatedly, blinking as if to clear something from his vision. Looking slightly dazed, he finally looked up and met Erin’s gaze, and gave her a brilliant smile.

Are you okay? She mouthed, exaggeratedly, hoping he would understand.

He nodded, and mouthed back Marry me?

She laughed, hoping that meant he was doing better than he looked.

“I saw that.” Catherine sounded amused. “He’s nothing if not determined.”

“I don’t mind.” Erin answered without thinking.

“…” Catherine, Olivia and even Maddie turned and stared open mouthed at her. Erin finally realized that it sounded as if she wanted him to propose and tried to explain awkwardly.

“I- I mean..um… no”

Catherine laughed, and hugged Erin tightly. “It’s okay. Take your time. There’s no rush.”

Maddie joined in. “Just make sure to marry him, okay?”

Everyone laughed, and continued talking, almost missing the fourth fight. Finally Olivia commented. “Isn’t Richard you two’s brother too?”

They both looked down, as if just realizing that their blood relation was currently in a physical struggle below.

“He hates me. Says I’m worthless because I don’t have powers.” Maddie frowned.

Catherine rested a comforting hand on the little girl’s head. “He lead the calls to have the position of crown princess stripped from me when I became engaged to my darling. He cares about nothing but being strong and political power.”

“Not that we want anything bad to happen to him.” Maddie added quickly, her face upset. “I just don’t want him to win.”

Olivia shrugged. “Fair enough.”

Erin didn’t comment watching as Richard quickly dispatched the second representative from Merion Magical Academy. She remembered the anger on his face as he assured Gerald he would never be king. She didn’t trust him.

Richard won his fight, starting the second round of the tournament. Frederick looked pale as he stepped up, staring at his next opponent from the military academy: Walter.

“Try not to die!” Olivia called out as he reached out and shook the other boy’s hand, wincing at the tight grip.

“Thanks for the tip.” Frederick muttered the answer, but it was clearly audible throughout the arena, making the audience chuckle.

The two circled around the arena, but it wasn’t long before Walter charged forward, his arms out. Frederick ducked and rolled, but the other boy was faster. Like a striking snake, his arm flashed forward, grasping Frederick’s ankle. His other fist came down towards Frederick’s chest, and Erin winced, remembering how badly Walter’s first opponent had been hurt before the referee stepped in.

“I concede!” Frederick shouted at the top of his lungs, surprising everyone.

Walter’s fist halted, millimeters from Frederick’s body. The young man’s face was twisted in rage, caught in a thwarted act of violence that he could no longer follow through on. Obviously struggling, he stepped backwards, his hands clenched in tight fists beside him.

Standing up, Frederick waved cheerfully at his opponent and the judges before returning to his seat. Several of the audience members booed him as a coward, but most saw the intelligence of his quick decision. He was obviously outmatched by the larger boy, and Walter was not the type to stop until he had fully incapacitated his opponent.

Again Erin gave Fredrick a thumbs up and he struck a victorious pose, causing her to laugh.

“He looks awful happy for someone who just lost.” Olivia muttered.

“He’s relieved he��s still alive.” Erin answered calmly, her heart starting to beat faster once she realized Gerald’s second fight was next.

Richard and Gerald stepped onto the arena, eying each other carefully. They did not reach out and shake hands, ignoring the referee’s instructions to do so. Erin leaned forward, her hands grabbing the railing that separated her from the arena so tightly that it was painful. Gerald… he didn’t look right. His eyes were unfocused, he was jumping slightly as if reacting to things that were in the periphery of his vision, despite it being only him and Richard in the arena. The two circled around, but he already was swaying on his feet as if dizzy.

Erin felt as if her chest was being stabbed. A slowly dawning horror was coming over her as she stared at him.

“Maddie.” She asked slowly and calmly, not wanting to scare the younger girl. “Where did you get that ‘good luck charm’ from?” Maddie was watching the fight cheerfully, and absentmindedly replied. “I found it outside my room this morning.”

The other three turned towards her and stared. She looked up, her smile fading slightly. “It had a note that said it was a lucky charm. I wanted Gerald to win so I gave it to him this morning.” Her brows furrowed, and worried, she asked. “Did I do something bad?”

Catherine hugged the girl tightly, her face grim. “It’s not your fault, sweetie. We’ll take care of this.”

“It must be some kind of artifact, maybe mental reinforcement or illusion type.” Olivia muttered staring over at Erin with concern.

Erin’s mind was blank with horror, she heard cheering and turned back towards the fighting grounds just in time to see Richard’s elbow striking Gerald in the face, breaking his nose and spraying blood. Gerald fell to his knees, but jumped back to his feet, his eyes unfocused and nearly closed. His opponent didn’t let the chance go by, blows rained down on the injured prince’s head and face, knocking him to the ground. Gerald raised a weak hand, trying to tap out, only to be kicked in the head and have it fall uselessly next to him.

It all happened in the space of a few seconds.

A coldness took over Erin, as she saw Gerald’s eyes close, his hands fall. Someone was holding onto her arm, talking in her ear, but she ignored them. Grabbing Olivia, she jumped to the ground with the assistance of wind magic, landing at his side lightly. Olivia knelt next to Gerald’s fallen form but Erin continued standing, studying him from a far. His familiar features, crushed and broken and stained with blood. Swelling around his eyes, forcing them closed. His hands were angled wrong, he had broken them trying to protect his head. Cracked ribs, lacerations, bruises, obvious fractures, her brain categorized them all with a detachment, filing them away in the back of her mind. Someone was screaming and idly she wondered if it was her.

She looked around, Richard had already run back to his side, hidden behind his fellow students and staff. One Royal Academy student, however, stuck out like a sore thumb:

Isabelle.

Her face pale she stared at Gerald with a terrible expression. Not the exultant look of a victor, not the concern of someone who cared… it was the terror of the guilty.

Erin smiled, the expression feeling unnatural on her face. Isabelle, catching sight of her, abandoned all pretenses of innocence and started running away.

“Heal him.” Erin started walking calmly in the direction that the girl had fled.

“What are you…?” Olivia started to ask, but paused at the sight of her face.

“Save him.” Erin kept walking, her eyes never leaving her prey. “Save me.”

She didn’t hear Olivia’s reply. She called the wind, enhanced her muscles, and was gone before her words had faded from the air.

Isabelle ran into the forest, the only sounds around her were the stomping of her feet against the ground, her ragged breaths escaping from her as her lungs burned for more air. She wanted to glance behind her to see if there was anyone there, but instead she kept running. She didn’t want to know if that girl was behind her.

She hadn’t expected things to end like this, they had tricked her! As she cursed the circumstances that led her into this predicament, tears ran down her face, her heart beating rapidly in her chest.

When she had seen Gerald fall, she thought she was afraid. She was scared of getting caught, of losing her reputation, of getting punished. But these were small, childish feelings next to the pure unadulterated terror that filled her when she met eyes with the girl who stood with Gerald.

Isabelle had never seen eyes like that before, but even so, she knew what that look meant.

That was the look of death.

Something snagged her ankle, tripping her to the ground. Falling on her face, wiping the dirt from her eyes, she turned only to see her foot sunken into the earth. Had she stepped into a hole? Confused, she stood up and started pulling on it, trying to free it. As she knelt down to examine it closer, she felt a cold chill run down her spine.

Looking around frantically she saw nothing, but couldn’t shake the unwavering feeling that she wasn’t alone.

“Hello?” She called out softly, her voice trembling with fear.

A voice whispered back, right in her ear.

“Found you.”

#writing #Erin/Gerald #part 13 #little bit of a cliffhanger #I'll keep working #maybe i can publish the next part sooner #it makes me anxious to leave them like this #Erin's in a dark place guys

135 notes · View notes

antiques-for-geeks · 5 years

Text

LCD Golf Games

Somebody, somewhere has to review these things?!

OK, first a little context. While my wife was in hospital waiting for the arrival of our daughter my brain desperately looked for some sort of worry release valve in the long hours between hospital visits. I did what any normal man would in this situation. I set about trying to put together the best damn collection of handheld LCD golf games the world has ever seen! They were mysterious! (nobody was interested enough to discuss them). They were plentiful! (as unwanted gifts often are). They were super cheap! (the sellers could barely give them away). Now, a couple of years later I have a happy and healthy daughter but also, crucially, a box full of assorted unplayed handheld golf games.

…and I’m going to tell you lucky people all about them!

Outside of the Nintendo’s Game and Watch series, LCD handheld games are often disregarded in the world of retro gaming. In a lot of cases this is fully justified; they lack the appealing mini-arcade aesthetic and bright colours of the larger tabletop VFD games, and there’s so much low quality landfill to be found, especially in some of the later licensed efforts from companies like Acclaim and Tiger. Let’s be honest - we only ever played them for want of something better.

Despite this I still find something fascinating about the attempt to create engaging gameplay using such limited technology. LCD games can only display their images in a series of fixed positions, so that’s a pretty severe limitation. This goes doubly for something like showing an 18 hole golf course with a variety of hazards like bunkers and lakes. Yet here are a handful of games that attempt to do just that - recreating your favourite ruined walk with what amounts to a slightly beefed up watch display.

Pro Golf

Bandai / 1985

The first, and earliest of my collection is this effort from Bandai, a well respected and prolific handheld game maker back in the 80’s. Many of these golf games were aimed squarely at the bored executive market, and were therefore often found in plastic-leather slip cases. This one has a nice little ring bound course guide attached, filling in the details that an LCD display can’t. This is definitely the simplest of these games; your only input is to select your club and time the swing. There are no complications like shot positioning, wind direction or the camber of the green to contend with. The courses do have a selection of water hazards and bunkers to avoid. This simplicity really works in the game’s advantage, because there’s a pretty clear relation between what you think should happen and what gets shown on the screen.

All these games seem very similar when it comes to taking a shot, with a single action button. You press the button, you see your little LCD golfer take his swing, you press again (or maybe release) at the end of the up swing to select power, then again when the downswing reaches the ball for accuracy. Between this and club selection there’s enough going on to make this 100 times more engaging than what the majority of arcade style handhelds could offer at the time. It’s also worth noting that all these golf games have a two player mode where each player alternates their shot, adding to the longevity. In a twisted sort of way golf is the perfect subject for the humble handheld!

Despite this I would like to see you have tried to make me choose this over my Astro Wars tabletop back in 1985.

Summing up, there’s enough variety for this to have been a decent time waste on a long train journey (assuming you didn’t hate golf) and the graphics are nice and clear. The sound is just beeps and a crappy tune, but you can switch if off to avoid a riot in the quiet coach. A thumbs up!

World Challenge Golf 2

Bandai / 1991

Here’s another effort from Bandai, and this one is quite a bit more involved. It’s stored in another leatherette slip case …but this time there’s a set of laminated cards provided, with the hole numbers written on each side. One end of each card has a background for the course, with the par and length to the pin, as well as a small map. The other end has the layout of the green, with some arrows showing which way it runs. Before playing each hole you slide these cards into a slot so they show behind the LCD screen, providing scenery ‘graphics’. This is exactly the kind of thing I find very cool about old tech - an ingenious solution to get around the inherent limitations of the LCD handheld. Ignore the fact that the classic Gameboy had already been released by this point and Nintendo’s Golf kicks all of these dedicated handhelds right into the gutter… using laminated cards as the background is awesome, and should be applauded.

Anyway, back to the game, you can now select shot direction, though in a very limited way. You can also see where you ball lies on the small course map, though the 3D view of the course and the swinging golfer are smaller and less detailed than the earlier game. Once you get to the green, you can see the ball position in a top-down view against the background card, and need to adjust for the camber.

Despite my admiration for the sheer ingenuity shown by this game, I have mixed feelings about it. It feels like the designers have bitten off more than they can chew. It is playable, but in trying to provide all the features of a fully fledged computer golf game it only highlights the fact that you’re not playing something better. It’s also significantly less easy to pick up and play than before.

Despite my misgivings, I like this one a lot as a collectible curiosity and it does come the closest to feeling like you’re actually in control of where the ball is going on the course. The sound is still beeps and a crappy tune which can be turned off.

Championship Golf 2

Radio Shack / Tandy / Late 1980’s?

I’ve seen various different re-branded versions of Radio Shack’s Championship Golf, but this one is a larger two screen effort, with individual buttons for club selection. No slip case this time, but it does have a built in screen protector with the course maps in a pouch on the underside. It’s less pocketable than the Bandai games but on the upside it takes AAA batteries, and it feels robust and well built. This one has 2 different 18 hole courses - apparently these are Japan and the USA. You can’t see storks dipping in ornamental koi ponds in Japan or try to nail Trump with a wayward drive in the USA, but the course layouts do change. The left screen shows a top-view of the course, while the right shows the traditional behind-the-golfer view.

You can’t select the shot direction, though your shot can wander into the rough if you mistime your button press on the down stroke. Though the golfer view is slightly lacking in detail, you’re shown exactly where your ball is on the overhead map screen, and this really adds to the playability. There is a wind indicator, but it’s only ever toward you, behind you or calm.

This is a really nice effort, with most of the simplicity of the earlier Bandai game, but with sensible additions to add some extra depth.

The sound is still beeps and a crappy tune which can be turned off.

Tournament Golf

Radica / 1999

This Radica unit has a nice big screen, with lots of detail on the golfer and the course, though I don’t like the plasticy case much - I miss the fake leather and solidity of the earlier games! The swing button is shaped like a golf ball, and is fairly satisfying to press. There are 4 different courses to play though, which is very generous.

The representation of the golfer’s swing is the best yet here, with a large and very clear meter prominent in the bottom right of the screen. This shows power, indicates fade and draw (your shot veering left and right) and gives a power indicator for putting. This game features a really detailed wind effect, with direction and strength. The wind even changes as you wait to take your shot for extra realism. Choosing power and correcting left and right for the effect of the wind should a lot to this game, but the limitations of that LCD display spoil the effect for me. Because there’s no overhead course view it’s quite hard to reconcile what you can see on the screen with what’s happening in the game, and that really matters when you’ve got so many game variables to deal with. It’s also a pig to time a shot when you’re close to the pin without pinging out the other side.

One excellent feature of this game is the sleep mode. There’s no off button, but if you leave it alone for a minute the screen turns off, and you can pick up your game at a later time. This is perfect for gaming on the go.

I’m perhaps being unduly harsh, but this is probably my least favorite so far. Despite the clear graphics and greater complexity it lacks the charm of some of the earlier efforts.

On the up side, this one at least has a digitised swoosh when you hit the ball. You’ll still want to turn it off though…

Talking Golf Master

Systema /1997

On to the final of our selection of games, this effort is from Systema, a well known maker of really average LCD games. This one has a plastic flip cover, with course maps and club distances on the inside. It doesn’t exactly feel premium, sharing that cheap plasticy feel with the Radica game. Worse, the action buttons are recessed little behind the cover, making it slightly awkward and uncomfortable to press them. I figure LCD game designers had given up trying to impress anyone by the mid 90’s.

The game itself is largely OK, with a very basic direction control and simple wind conditions, but the graphics are about as basic as the two screen Radio Shack game, without the benefits that the overhead course screen brought. The sound seems to be a real selling point for Systema, but it’s irritating beyond belief, with constant super loud bleeps punctuating your play. There are some sound samples; a brief compressed second of bird song or occasional encouragement from your caddy. You’re sure to love the attention you get on the bus as he waxes lyrical about how good your hole was.

You can turn it off, and you’ll want to. I’d give this one a miss.

The 19th Hole

At last we’ve come to the end of our review! Back to the clubhouse for a steak pie... I feel like a complete golf casualty now. The games can lie safely in their boxes for another few years. My daughter is sure to love LCD golf time with daddy, no?

#antiques-for-geeks #LCD #golf #retrogaming #videogames #afg #review #handheld #bandai

1 note · View note

gamesception · 4 years

Text

Sception Plays Demon’s Souls, part 1 - “You Died.”

Gonna play me some demon’s souls. I’ve never really played it before, but I have been largely spoiled on lore and some gameplay elements via souls series video binges on youtube after playing and loving dark souls for the first time last year. Honestly I should have blogged that - played it on the switch with a screen cap button, now I’m playing Demon’s Souls on ps3 where I have to point my phone at the tv and take pictures like I’m living in the stone age. I’d actually planned to get a video capture device & hdcp bypass w/ christmas moneys, but the couch broke so here we are.

But anyway, yeah, as I’d mentioned elsewhere, I loved Dark Souls and Bloodborne, and after playing those games I’ve been excited to give the rest of the series a try, starting with Demon’s Souls. Especially after watching Matthew Matosis’s “Lost Soul Arts” video. In particular, there were a bunch of small individual elements in Dark Souls that felt undeveloped or out of place, in particular the Bridge Dragon, and some of the npcs including the Crestfallen Knight and Patches, that I’ve since learned were references to things that were either more fleshed out or just made more sense in Demon’s Souls.

Things I’ve heard about Demon’s Souls: enemy AI is even less capable of responding intelligently to ranged attacks than in Dark Souls, and most have poor magic resistance compared to physical, so magic in general is just kind of busted. In particular, starting with the Royal class gives you a ring that regenerates MP, giving you infinite uses of magic.

Now, I’m no “Elite Gamer”, my gamer pride was abandoned long ago, but I do want to actually play Demon’s souls, and killing every enemy one at a time from outside their agro radius strikes me as against the spirit of things, at least for a full play through. No, I want to play a bad dude (or dudette in this case) in beefy heavy armor who fights up close and personal.

So I intended to play a knight, but it turns out there’s a “Temple Knight” class with even more armor, one that starts with a higher endurance, strength, and faith. I don’t know if miracles are supposed to be as broken as sorceries in this game, but if it’s mostly some extra heals, maybe some pushes to shake off crowds, that could be cool. So yeah, a paladin-esque sort of cleric knight situation sounds good. And that halberd looks neat, so there we go, I guess I’ll see if I can put together a workable heavy armor/melee/miracles sort of build with a lot of vitality, endurance, and faith. Something survivable to help cushion my badness without just bypassing the core gameplay entirely.

Going for a lady sception this time, fairly default appearance, just some slight changes to the hair. I like that ‘Gender’ is a slider, that’s cool. There’s a lot of nitty gritty appearance options under “Edit Appearance”, but I intend to be wearing a lot of armor with this character, so that feels like a bit of a waste of time.

There’s some lore business before the title screen, and a fair bit of story set up after character select, leading me to think that narrative maybe plays a stronger part in Demon’s Souls than it did in Dark Souls or Bloodborne. Both those games had mountains of lore to pick up from item descriptions, random npc dialog, environmental details, and so on, but very little in the way of an actual plot or story occuring during the game itself. It’s something that I felt the games could actually stand to have a bit more of, since they can be a bit aimless as is, like all the important stuff kind of already happened, and you’re just picking up pieces in the aftermath.

The intro story bit also rattles off a long list of names of various heroes who disappeared into the fog, and the loading screens sho static images of what I assume are npcs. Maybe a bit less informative than the item description loading screens, and doesn’t serve the same purpose of reminding the player that they should be looking at item descriptions for extra lore and context. That said, it does imply to me that npc characters might play a bigger part in Demon’s Souls than they do in the later games of the series that I’ve played.

after the story bits, there’s a brief clip of main character entering the fog, and the game plops me in tutorial zone.

Ugh, fat rolling. Yeah, the equip load, with cut offs at 1/4 for fast and 1/2 for medium rolls are a thing, just like dark souls. I don’t mind medium rolls, but slow roll is just unacceptable.

Which forces sception to strip off all her armor save for her shoes. Eventually I’ll buy up enough endurance to put it back, but I knew going in that Sceptions starting armor would be more a statement of long term goals rather than a practical early game outfit.

Not too much to say about the tutorial zone. It’s somewhat functional, introducing some base mechanics via dev notes on the ground. There’s a few mostly very weak enemies, and a couple significantly tougher ones with glowing blue eyes that I didn’t manage to get any decent pictures of. Again, it’s a shame ps3 had no screen cap function, and that furnature emergencies stole my video capture money, because trying to take a picture with one hand while holding the control with the other doesn’t work too well.

Eventually I make it to the tutorial boss, a giant clumbsy demon with a big ole ax. I do ok at it for a while, but I’ve never fought it before and don’t know it’s attack timings, so eventually mistime a role and get splatted in a single hit.

#thankyoudarksouls

....

As a first impression, pretty cool so far. The Undead Asylum definitely strikes me as a more effective and interesting tutorial, but something about the environment from this area feels a little more, I don’t know, believable? Immersive? Could just be new game syndrome. But where Dark Souls having the tutorial boss splat you only to circle back around and defeat it before leaving the area worked better as an introduction and felt more satisfying, it also had a slightly more videogamey feel, like it was more obviously created to be a level for you to play through.

Again, though, maybe it’s just new game feel, combined with the matosis vid priming me for that exact opinion.

#sception plays demon's souls #demon's souls #souls series #part 1 #I say part 1 like there are going to be more parts #haven't really decided on that

0 notes

willt86 · 7 years

Text

Matt’s Great Balls of Fire Recap

GREAT BALLS OF FIRE RECAP!

Preshow was Neville vs Tozawa, I was watching the PPV at @willt86's place and we missed this match. From the look of things it was your normal pre-show match. Neville's still defending champion for his belt. I don't expect a rematch but with that being said, got no idea who they'll have Neville face in the next PPV which is Summerslam, maybe have a pre-show battle royal? Who knows, maybe another cruiserweight will debut.

Bray Wyatt vs Seth Rollins opens the PPV, Me and @willt86 missed a tad of this. We both didn't seem too impressed about this match, it was like a hit and miss. Bray wins at the 12 minute mark which wasn't the win I was expecting, I thought they would push for Seth since he was the cover of the WWE game. But anyway, not sure what leads from here.

Enzo vs Big Cass, Enzo went on...and on, and on and on and fuck on and on and on! Which makes me feel like they were running out of time later on in the night due to some of the results to the match. Enzo rants about Big Cass again, breaking their friendship and blah blah blah. Big Cass comes out, new intro and theme and seems like they are gonna try and push this guy somehow (to be honest, they are both fucking buried now). Bell rings and it's a complete squash, pretty sure Enzo got 0.000000000000001% offensive Cass wins at 5:25

They promote Kurt Angle's documentary which actually has Dixie Carter on it, you would be able to watch that now as I believe it was suppose to be on after RAW

Hardy's vs Cesaro & Sheamus. 20 seconds it, Cesaro runs towards Matt and does like a baseball slide, Sheamus does a brogue kick...followed by a 1-2-3 pin. Me and @willt86 did not expect that. Infact, this actually made the crowd slightly dead, why? we just had Neville win who's a heel (but majority of wrestling fans love him), Bray won (who's a heel), Big Cass won (another heel) and this to happen it was like "oh god, come on babyfaces!" The match started slow and it was advantage to Cesaro & Sheamus, 9th minute into the match, they score ANOTHER fall making it 2-0 to them. The Hardys didn't get on the board till the 13th minute as Jeff did a twist of fate on Cesaro 2-1 16 minutes into the match, Matt is counted out making it 3-1. Not sure the exact time in the match but Matt was busted open, the cause of it which is still debatable, Sheamus laid on his back both hardys did a splash from corner to corner, while this happen it seems that Sheamus lift his leg up a bit and Matt's head hit Sheamus knee OR Matt mistimed the splash and landed awkwardly. The last pin fall is fucking confusing...Jeff Hardy does the Swanton Bomb on Sheamus but apparently isn't the legal man, Cesaro grabs Jeff and pins him 1-2-3... When the fuck does someone get pinned after doing their finisher?! There's about 1 minute left in the match and it turns into Benny Hill with Cesaro running around and Matt chasing him.MattAnother confusing in this match, which Me and @willt86 thought what the fuck?! Matt did a nice moonsault which I haven't seen him do in like...forever. Which was followed by a pin. Me and Will thought the ref counted a 3 pin fall. But because the ref dropped down so hard, it was somehow a two count. This cause the crowd to go "Ref, you suck!"

Sasha Banks vs Alexa Bliss... So...they did the Alexa Bliss arm break gimmick thing AGAIN. Personally...they should of done this near the finish of the match, it would of been great. This was an OK match till the finish, Alexa Bliss gets counted out...We'll see you two at Summerslam for the re-match for sure.

Miz vs Dean Ambrose...for the 9000th time. I feel like this is almost like watch Cena vs Orton again and again except this time all they did was add Axel and Dallas with The Miz. With that being said, what did Axel and Dallas add to the match...NOTHING, just a big cameo to appear on a PPV and probably an extra pay check to their name... You didn't miss much, Miz wins and retains...1-2-3

ANOTHER.HEEL.WIN.

">Brawn vs Roman for the 9000th time...boy, where do I start with this?

Let me make this clear...I love Braun, I love what they have done to him...but one thing he needs to stop doing, he runs into the turnbuckle and bounces out of it and decides I can hit a move, No...stop.

One thing they kept doing in this match was Braun runs and Roman moves, they this three times. Braun runs, Roman moves and Braun hits the ring post. They did this a 4th time except at was near the stage, Braun runs, Roman moves, and Braun smashes into the screen stage. @willt86 said to me during the match "I've always wanted to see someone smash big time into the LCD screens" his wish was grant but what was hilarious was the static/white noise from the screen, this doesn't happen to LCD screens...ALSO, where was the "sparks" Moving on, finish was Roman runs to go for a spear, BRAUN MOVES, Roman misses, lock the fucking Ambulance and we have a winner... ANOTHER.HEEL.WIN After the match is where the fun begins.... Roman gets out and beats the living shit out of Braun. Roman throws him in the Ambulance, drives the Ambulance to the back. We see him in the side mirror looking back, Roman throws the ambulance in reserves and smashes the ambulance into a trailer. Roman gets out and storms off... THIS HAS TO BE A DOUBLE TURN! (Now, I have not seen Raw yet, if I see Roman on Raw tonight as a face, FUCK THIS COMPANY!) Noble and Angle try to open the door to which <<a>@willt86 points out none of try to use the door handle? try tried to use this crowbar. Angle says "call 9-1-1" which I replied with "Why?" There's an ambulance...oh, nevermind... After this has to be one of the dumbest things known to ever happen on WWE...Hawkins vs Slater in a match which should of been called a "noise only match" They start the match and then about 30 seconds into the match, we are shown backstage to fire brigades and cops fleeing to the ambulance that Braun is supposed to be stuck in. While this is happening, we hear a bell ring and they announced, here's your winner, Health Slater.... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!

"USE THE FUCKING DOOR HANDLE YOU DICKS!"

Then they should of announced, here's your winner via MURDER Roman Reigns. Braun eventually gets out, tell everyone go away and bleeds.

Brock vs Joe. The way they hyped this was great, Me and @willt86 waited all day for this. So Joe jumps on Brock before the bell rings which some of the crowd didn't like...I think because they wanted to hear Paul Heyman Joe throws Brock into the announce table, Joe gets back into the ring, the bell hasn't rang yet to start the match, Brock takes his sweet ass time to get into the ring, Heyman says call the match off, Brock smiles and gets into the ring. Joe goes to kill him and they fight, it look like a shoot match at first, really good. Then it turned into the choke vs suplex match, Joe would choke Brock, Brock would suplex Joe. Joe eventually gets Brock on the ground for the choke, Brock goes purple, struggles to breath. But because it's Brock Lesnar, gets up, hits an F-5 on Joe. Brock wins. Pretty awesome. Now Brock can have his fucking 3 weeks off again for whatever the fuck he wants to do... And that's it, that's Great Dick pics on fire.

0 notes

avialaeandapidae · 6 years

Text

Got my days wrong and ended up alone in a room with my boss and the President of Ireland while I was on ketamine.

Thread by @shockproofbeats

Right, this was when I was eighteen so don't judge me too harshly. Or if you think drugs are cool and I'm a legend, fill your boots. Anyway, at the time I was working through college in Dublin with bar shifts at [redacted] music venue.

One day I get a call on my day off. Way the gig worked, you'd either get Fri or Sat off. This week it was Fri, happy days. My manager, let's call her Dympna, pipes up on the phone: "So, when you come in this evening, just a few things to remember". I'm like, hold on Dympz, I'm off this eve, jog on. She corrects me. "Remember I said you could get all of Saturday off if you just worked 2 hours tonight?".

And of course THEN, I did suddenly remember, she'd said it to me as I was leaving the building and my conscious work brain was doing somersaults to get out of the place. She could have told me I was to have my foreskin tattooed with a harpoon and I would have given her a smile, thumbs up, and a flurry of yeps to get out of the place. I was eighteen. On minimum wage, and - bear in mind this is really saying something - my absolute minimum effort. So, I'm bang to rights and I say "yeaaah, of course, sorry just got my days mixed up, I'll be there no problem" and she says, "this evening will be fine, just the head of the [redacted] and some VIPs, few hours then you can take off".

All good. Except for the one thing. At that very moment, I was in a mate's house on Dame St, relaxing with (I thought) nothing to do for the evening.

Now you have to remember that, before dabbing and fortnite, kids used "drugs" to get high and I was, occasionally, adjacent to them. I was a fairly sheltered kid before college, and didn't even drink til I was well into my late teens, never smoked even. I was very green.

So too, coincidentally, was the homebrew ketamine that said pal was making IN HIS OVEN when I arrived. My pal had gotten it in liquid form and, for some reason, it had been dyed green - he has subsequently told me he thought it was a St Patrick's Day promotion, and I've always thought it a charming entrepreneurial flourish on the part of his enterprising ketamine wholesaler. (Ketamine wholesalers are often vets, and the stuff originally for cats. People always say horse tranquiliser, either to make it sound more sordid or more badass, but ketamine is used on many animals, and vets have more use for cat tranqs than horses. Not quite as sexy is it?)

Anyway, for want of a better idea, I took him up on his offer of a line of this thick, vaguely slightly clumpy bright green powder, knowing I had nothing else to do for the evening. Felt nothing. Had a tiny further bump 10 mins later. It was at this point that my phone rang.

FLASHBACK ENDS, WE'RE BACK IN THE ROOM. So I'm definitely sweating after the call, not like instant come-up, more worried ABOUT the come-up. Never done this in my life, I've no idea how it's going to feel. But, absent any other idea, I get my stuff together and head to work.

On way to work, starts kicking in. You know when the roof of your mouth starts politely folding your brain in half, and your chest flutters like a cathedral filled with bees? I was holding it together but knew if I stopped concentrating for one second, I would become time itself.

By the time I reach work (twenty mins later) I am sweating like microwaved bread, eyes on hinges, convinced my fingernails owe me money. I have an overwelming urge to yawn, just to get the memories out WHEN in comes Dympna with the rota for the evening.

D: Thanks again, know it's short- oh, you look a bit hot and bothered, did you run here ha?"

Me: Hmnnnnnyes, I did - the dids is"

D: OK, just you tonight and the top man, he's showing the President what's going on for the next while"

[one beat]

Me: Sorr din you sez de presddyen?" D: Yes, Mary McAleese is in to see this season's programme of events.

Me: Hmmnggg

D: All you need to do is stand in the corner and offer them drinks every fifteen minutes.

Me: Ahhh yesssshnshh

D: Maybe have a wash beforehand So the gig is this: Mary McAleese (the *original* MMA) was to go round this room upstairs which had upcoming acts for the season illustrated with photographs and programme notes. The director of [redacted] would walk her around and say "fricken great, Madge innit?" or whatever.

My role is pretty weird, I have to stand in the corner and then every 15 mins, INTERRUPT this live-wire pair to offer them drinks, which protocol dictates they must refuse. I have barely processed any of this before I'm grabbing a tray and heading upstairs.

The tray, btw, contains a white wine, a red wine, a G&T, a whiskey, a rum and coke and some mineral waters. Always found that mix weird. Imagine the President of Ireland seeing the rum and coke and going "oooooh nice one, ta - now tell me about this Latvian choir again".

Right now I can hold it together when stimulated, when the adrenaline and fear is keeping me just ticking over - I'm weird but with it.

Problem is, my job is now to stand silent and motionless in a room on my own until the President of Ireland arrives. Time passes on my own. Empires crumble and glaciers dissolve, stars die and oceans melt, out on the dusty planes of mother earth, hot bursts of young love gift the miracle of life; children are born, raised, stricken infirm and die of old age.

And then Mary McAleese walks in. By now, having been alone with my thoughts for the entire Cretaceous period, I am no longer mildly weird but deeply, extravagantly deranged. As the President of Ireland walks in, with my boss's boss's boss's boss, my first impulse is to greet them like I own the place. It would be rude, surely, to not acknowledge their presence? Out of order even. Best thing to do would obviously be to say "hello guys" like it's my home and I live there, in this big white room, where I stand in the corner, alone, holding a tray of drinks, like you do, at home.

Me: hello guys HELLO GUYS

Anyway, by the divine grace of the infant Christ, they somehow do not hear me say this, and begin their itinerary round the room. I clench my entire head and focus on not shouting across the room to let them know that they should always feel at home here in this room of ours.

I become extremely aware of my hands, and how I haven't felt them in a very long time. They're detuned to static , which would be worrying even if they weren't holding a tray of drinks filled with noise and judgement. I hold no faith or creed other than "do not drop these plz".

Just when dropping everything seems to become less urgent, I realise it's time to go over and offer these motherfuckers some fucken drinks, let's get this party started wooooooo I begin walking over to them and I move so abruptly that the glasses clink and they turn to look at me.

I did this too fast.

Now I'm thinking wooooah slow down there martina hingis, so I self-correct to a much slower speed. Watching my breath, nice and casual, you got this buddy. Guys. GUYS. Now, I'm moving far too slow. I started at this speed and I'm to embarassed to change and now it's gonna take me like 5 mins to cross the room. They are watching me, frowning and sweaty, traversing the 5 foot between us like it's a wooden plank on the Crystal Maze. I'm moving so slow my legs are cramping. I think they're wondering why it's taking me so long. It's way harder than walking at normal speed. I'm shaking so the drinks are making noise again. For what feels like minutes.

Anyway, I offer them the drinks and they say no. Do this another two times - how long was this presentation anyway, is this what the President does all day? Give her a brochure and a carryout ffs - and they say no.

By the end, I've calmed down a bit in physical side (sweating, shaking) but I still feel completely batshit. At one point I clearly remember believing that my mind had escaped my body and was watching me hold the tray of drinks from the wallspace behind my head. Only out-of-body experience I've ever had.

At the very end, they do accept a drink. It was at this point she spoke to me. Just some inane pleasantries, to which I reply with some off-the-hook pablum about work and college, at which point she says;

"Oh, is that a Northern accent I detect?"

Dawgs, you know I'm down for the Nordie solidarity vibe, but this is the last thing I need right now. "Yeeerrrsh" I say, with a goalkeeper's glove in my mouth. She starts talking about her experience coming down to study here, how it can be a real scenic change, but the making of you if you keep your eyes open to new experiences.

I can tell she definitely means green ketamine. She's a lovely woman, and very open and generous with her time, giving me ample space to answer her questions which I mostly do with sheepish, one-or-two-word answers. Finally, she asks me if Dublin is everything I thought it wou-

Me: YES I LIKE IT I THINK IT'S GOOD

I'd been paying such fierce attention, I'd mis-timed my reply AND badly modulated my volume. She actually recoiled a little. I think the head of the venue actually stepped back and said "jesus!". Mary McAleese flinched for what seemed like half a second, then flashed her best your-mum's-sound-mate smile and replaced her white wine on my tray.

The boss man nodded at me, they walked out of the room and I waited a few seconds before making my way downstairs to the kitchen. So at this point I'm thinking, wellll, I'm definitely fired but this will one day make a great story on an Nazi-riddled microblogging platform.

I make my way to the staff area, wipe my sopping face and check my phone. I had only been in the room for 35 minutes. Dympna pads in all smiles, thanking me for my help at short notice. She sees that I'm a bit freaked and says, almost with a wink, "you could have told me you'd be like this, by the way" I'm thinking, of course, Dympna gets what's up, it's the service industry, people mistime their vibes, I bet this isn't the first time she's seen some-

"I had no idea you were such a huge fan of Mary McAleese"

I'm sorry what again was that did you mean The boss man had indeed related the events upstairs to Dympna, but rather than a frightened waif hepped up on cat tranqs, he'd seen a political nerd deeply, irretrievably starstruck by contact with the 8th President of the Irish Republic, Mary McAleese. Presumably a political nerd with a gland problem, and low-grade artritis in both legs, and a tendency to welcome people into their workspaces, but a political nerd all the same.

Me: Oh, yeah well, you know, it's embarassing. She's, just amazing.

And you know what, she kinda is. She was always very nice to me each of the subsequent times we met - me doling out the drinks, her asking me how Dublin was getting on, all the while the other staff eyeing me to see how I was dealing with such close contact with my hero. I'd gurn and fret, play up to it when she'd be coming in, "oh what am I like". I'd bat away suggestions I fancied her from the more ribald members of the changing room, and laugh along with the usual jibes, safe in the knowledge my nerdy affect had saved my bacon.

So take ketamine at work, it's great.

END.

#this is one of the funniest k trips i've ever read #drugs #trip reports #lol #ireland

1 note · View note