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poliel · 3 years

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Surprise Egg 10/13: They're Parasites

Filbo glanced up towards the mountain for the umpteenth time since Buddy had left town with Triffany and Eggabell. He’d already been worried but… could there be any worse place to be during a bad earthquake than on a snow-covered mountain? Probably there were a few places but not many. How far up it had the three of them been when it hit? At the top? Maybe already inside the stone doors and thus perhaps safe? An earthquake that big had to have caused an avalanche, right? So what if… No, worrying about them in general but especiallythat wasn’t helping so also for the umpteenth time, Filbo forced those thoughts out of his mind and looked away.

Having saved what had survived of Buddy’s extra store of sauces from the wreckage of the cabin – as well as his one surviving frog plushie – he turned and resumed his jog for the airship instead. Chandlo was working on fixing the hull and balloon of it while Snorpy worked on fixing engine. Everyone else had already settled into going back and forth loading the airship up with useful stuff found amongst the wreckage of the town. It didn’t feel like a lot or enough but…

“Filbo.”

He stopped turning to face Wambus as he approached.

“I’m ‘bout to head up the mountain to look for Triffy,” he continued, gesturing back towards it. “Since Buddy’s up there too I figured I might as well invite you along as well.”

Filbo would’ve loved to jump on that invitation but… “We can’t go up there. It’s too dangerous and they’re going to be trying to come back here to us. What happens if we go out and get in trouble and then they come back here and we’re not here. Then someone’s going to have to look for us and that’ll just be time wasted when we could be getting out of here. Plus we don’t know where exactly they are so if we have to search for them it should be as a party with a plan and… and a way to communicate with everyone back here.”

Wambus growled, low and deep, but it was probably just out of frustration and not actual anger at Filbo… hopefully. After a few seconds he let out a heavy, defeated sigh. “I hate it but… you’re right. We should focus on getting ready to get out of here first.”

Filbo nodded to hide his sigh of relief because he had no idea what he’d have done if Wambus had insisted on going with or without him. “If they’re not back by the time the airship is ready to leave, I’ll go with you to look for them along with whoever else wants to help us. But Triffany, Eggabell, and Buddy are some of the strongest grumps I know so I’m sure they’ll get back here probably long before we’re even ready to leave.” Because it was clearly going to take a while. “And they’ll bring Liz with them too I bet.”

“You’re awfully optimistic.”

“Yep! It’s the one thing I’m good at other than uh… messing stuff up. So it’s the only good thing I’m good at. Anyway uh… I got to go.” He turned and jogged up the hill and over to the airship.

After dropping his haul off with the other supplies, he went over to the engine which Snorpy was currently fixing. “I can uh… help with that. … Or at least should be able to, I think.”

Snorpy looked up from it to give him an understandably skeptical look. “You can?”

“Yeah. Uh… I got an airship license a while ago and while getting it I learned some basic repair stuff. I probably couldn’t uh… fix it all the way on my own or anything but I should be able to help.” Hopefully anyway.

“Hmm… very well. It’s more busted up than I thought anyway. It looks like someone rigged it to explode upon taking damage. So we’re lucky it was almost out of fuel when it did otherwise it would’ve been a lot worse.”

Surely it couldn’t actually have been rigged to explode. That was just Snorpy being Snorpy, right? … Well, it wasn’t worth dwelling on right now, fixing it was much more important. So Filbo settled down on the deck next to him. “What’s with the radio though?” he had to ask because Snorpy had set it up right next to himself and the light on it indicated it was on but… it was silent.

“It’s connected to the radio tracking device I planted on Buddy. It lets me listen to what’s going on around them.” Snorpy’s tone was casual and he didn’t even glance up from his work.

“You… planted a tracking device on Buddy? When?”

“Shortly before they convinced me to return to town.”

That was a while ago now. How often did he listen in? What all had he overheard? Did Buddy know about it? … All important questions for later. Right now though… “Can you talk to them through it? Or uh… have you heard anything from them yet?” Surely if either was the case he’d have told Filbo and everyone else by now, right? But then again it was Snorpy, he had a tendency to be weird about things sometimes so… it didn’t hurt to ask.

“I have not heard anything yet even though I’m still receiving a signal from it. My attempts to reach them have all failed as well. So either the receiver is damaged or they can’t respond.”

Filbo’s heart sank even though that didn’t have to mean anything. Snorpy had also said the receiver might be damaged. So… Buddy could still be all right. And probably was because if anyone could survive an earthquake and probably an avalanche too, it was them… right?

***

Buddy woke with a jolt as something cold and wet plopped onto their upturned face. Instinctively they shot up right, ready to spring if there was danger.

Which while there was no immediate threat… where the fuck were they? A cavern for sure. High above them was a hole clogged up with what looked and could only be snow – which was probably what had fallen on them, waking them. But… the walls, they were made of… food? A hallucination brought on by starvation? … No, Buddy didn’t feel the slightest bit hungry at the sight of any of it and the way they seemed to move, almost as if the walls were breathing, made them uneasy instead.

They were sitting a shallow puddle of pinkish water but it was clear the floor was made of food – or what looked like food – too. And of course it was also ‘breathing’. They could feel it rise and fall slightly underneath them, taking away any doubt about whether or not it was a hallucination. Ugh! What the fuck?

How had they even ended up here? … The avalanche! Had to be right, that was the last thing they remembered. And it would certainly explain why they felt like they’d been pummeled.

All right, strange unsettling surroundings or no, they needed to check if they had any real injuries. Carefully they moved every part of their body. All of it hurt but they were pretty sure nothing was broken. Next, they checked their camera, still hanging from around their neck. Its screen was cracked but… it turned on! Yes! Spending all that money on it was paying off once again, everyone who’d doubted and criticized them for spending so much could suck it.

Next, they carefully extricated their arms out of their backpack loops and pulled it around to their front. Unfortunately, all their bugsnax hunting equip was smashed to bits and barely hanging onto the hooks or gone entirely. But what about… they slid a paw into their pouch and… yeah, Sprout’s buggy ball was still in there. They pulled him out just to make sure and, yep there he was. They put him back before pulling the backpack on once more.

Now came the hard part; standing back up and finding a way out of here. Or finding Triffany and Eggabell, assuming they’d ended up down here too. Hopefully they had otherwise they were probably dead, right?

Using the nearby wall for support, Buddy carefully stood up. Even so though a wave a dizziness washed through them, blackness eating at the edges of their vision. Thankfully it passed after a several long seconds.

With a groan, they shook themself a little and looked up and around again. They were in a dead-end area, leaving them with only one tunnel to go down. So, keeping one paw on the wall even though it felt gross, to help steady themself, they started down it.

Quickly it became obvious that this was a whole cave system. With branching tunnels of various sizes, some leading to dead-ends, requiring Buddy to turn around, others seeming to go on for a while. Without any hint on if there even was a way out of here at all, let alone which direction it might be in, Buddy just kept going down any tunnel that wasn’t a dead end and didn’t taper off to be too narrow for them to easily fit. They were going in the general direction of uphill though which was either good or bad depending on if there was more likely to be an exit towards the top of the mountain or the bottom. Buddy didn’t know enough about how cave systems worked to even make an educated guess so they didn’t think too much about it – or anything else really – and just kept forcing themself onward.

Both the ground beneath them as well as the wall they were leaning on for support suddenly weren’t there anymore. They fell, landing on and sliding face first down a small incline. It was softer than normal ground and smooth but was still thoroughly unpleasant.

They lay stunned at the bottom of it for a few seconds before a sound of something came from somewhere above them. With soft growl they pushed themself back up, first to their paws and knees, then unsteadily to their feet.

Somehow they’d ended up in a large cavern. Bugsnax of various sorts gathered around and lined alcoves in the walls to either side. They all centered around what could only be the Queen of Bugsnax, as Wiggle would’ve declared it.

With a shiver of excitement, Buddy pulled their camera and snapped a photo of it. And then a few more as they inched closer. How dangerous was it though? Maybe they shouldn’t be…

“Ah so you’re Budlegard Fuzzypaw, the journalist, right?”

Buddy froze. It spoke and knew their name somehow! “Yep! Just call me Buddy though.” They zoomed their camera in on the Megamaki like neck and the grumpus shape they’d been a bit too distracted by the rest of the being to notice before now at the end of it. “How’d you know…” Wait was that…

***

“Lizbert!” Filbo said at the same time as Buddy over the radio because he’d recognize her voice anywhere. Hearing both their voices confirmed once and for all they were both okay! That was the best news Filbo had heard in what felt like forever. Now if only they could hear him but Buddy hadn’t responded to any of his and Snorpy’s attempts to reach them, indicating their receiver wasbroken. But being able to hear them and know they were both alive was more than enough for Filbo for now.

“Yep,” Lizbert said with what almost sounded like a sigh. She went on but…

“Yo, is that Lizbert on the radio?” Chandlo asked, his loud voice drowning her out as he stepped closer to the radio and Filbo and Snorpy kneeling it. Filbo was almost a little tempted to growl at him.

“Yes,” Snorpy answered. “Now hush please, we’re trying to listen. But tell the others, I suspect we might be about to get some important information.”

“Got it,” Chandlo said in a whisper and salute before backing away. It wasn’t long before everyone was gathered around to listen to Buddy’s conversation with Liz.

***

Buddy almost couldn’t believe they’d finally found Lizbert. Surely it had to be a starvation combined with sleep deprivation fever dream of sorts, right? Perhaps they were slowly suffocating under a mound of snow and this was just their mind taunting them with the goal they’d suffered so long searching for before it shut off.

Though did they even care if it was a dying dream? … Probably not as much as they should’ve. Regardless… “I need to interview you.”

“Are you joking?” She asked, her voice incredulous.

“I didn’t come all the way here for nothing.” Regardless of the danger, they’d been through far too much to get here; starvation, sleep deprivation, unknowingly carrying the egg and then birthing it alone in the middle of Sizzling Sands, all the various beatings, bruisings, and burns they’d taken from the aggressive bugsnax around the island and now they’d survived being run over by a dang avalanche too. Far, far too much for them to leave off here.

Liz sighed and opened her mouth to respond but before she could something behind Buddy drew her attention. The Megamaki tendril holding her grumpus form shifted upwards. “Triffany?”

Buddy turned to see that Triffany had indeed found her way in into the cavern. Awesome, she was still alive which meant Eggabell likely was too. Naturally she was looking around mystified with a dawning look of excitement on her face as she came closer. “Oh wow, this place is… Lizbert!? Is that really you?”

“Yeah. It’s me.”

“How did… Oh, hi Buddy!” She smiled as she reached them. “It’s great to see you’re okay. Or… still alive if nothing else. Anyway Lizbert! What is this place? Why are you…” She looked Lizbert up and down, “like that?”

“I don’t have time to explain. You two need to get out of here. I can…”

“Nuh-uh,” Buddy interrupted. “Interview first.”

“Are you serious?” She glared at them, visibly exasperated. The fact that she was currently inhabiting the body of a very large bugsnax would’ve made her annoyance with them rather intimidating if Buddy were still able to care about such things. But they didn’t so…

“I swear to every nonexistent god grumpkind has ever come up with, I’m not leaving this cursed island until you’ve answered my questions.” Or until they were physically dragged off it, fighting every step of the way, or until they were dead.

Liz growled but… “Fine. Make it fast.”

Quickly they pulled out their notebook and recorder. Taking as deep a breath they put on their calm and friendly interviewer face before pressing record.

***

“Uh… guys we got some pretty some pretty major problems.”

The undisguised note of fear in Beffica’s voice was pretty much the only thing that could’ve drawn Filbo’s attention away from the radio right then. He looked over to see she was pointing out past the bow of the ship and down towards town.

He was loathe to leave the radio even for a moment but… along with everyone else he stepped over to look out over the ship’s railing at the town below. … Bugsnax were swarming into town from all the entrances, slowed by the destruction the earthquake had caused but not by much.

“They’re parasites,” Liz’s voice came over the radio in response to Buddy’s question. “They get inside you and they... change you. Your body and your mind. They make you want them and before you know it... you become them.

“We need to get out of here right grumping now,” Cromdo shouted, breaking everyone’s paralysis.

“We can’t,” Beffica countered before Filbo could.

“Yeah,” Wambus agreed with a growl. “Triffy’s still out there.”

“So is Buddy, Eggabell, and Liz,” Filbo said. “We can’t leave without them.” He certainly refused to especially since this was Buddy’s airship.

Cromdo growled but before he could say anything though Snorpy cut in. “And I’m not done fixing the grumping engine yet!” He was already rushing back over to it.

“Don’t worry Snorp-dawg, we’ll hold them off!” Before he’d even finished speaking, Chandlo was off, giving everyone else little choice but to follow. Filbo would’ve too but…

“Watch the egg for me for a bit,” Beffica said as she pushed the egg into his paws.

“W-why me?”

She didn’t even look back at him as she answered. “Cause you’re helping Snorpy fix the engine.”

With a grimace, he shoved it into his pouch again instead of following everyone else off the boat. It did make sense though to have one of people not fighting off the bugsnax be the one to watch it. So… no use worrying about it, he had a job to do, or more like help with.

#my writing #bugsnax #filbuddy #filbo fiddlepie #the journalist

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fungusry · 3 years

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I imagine grumpuses are some sort of non-placental mammals. The pouch could still exist though as purely a leftover survival mechanism for carrying infants, since in the wild they would have both hands full wirh no room to carry the hairy chicken wings known as babies.

I’m actually gonna jot down my take on how grumpuses reproduce because I simultaneously love the egg AND pouch idea:

Grumpuses are non-placental monotremes that lay eggs; females have pouches and carry the egg most of the time but will trade it off between their partner if need be

Once an egg hatches the grumpus babies (grump pups, or grumpies, if you will) will remain in the pouch nursing until they learn how to walk; male grumpuses don’t have pouches but fashion slings/carriers instead

Grumpies pretty much look like awful little plucked chickens when they’re born but their fur comes in eventually! :)

#bugsnasks

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mtgc858 · 3 years

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Ok,New au idea :),So I saw a few aus were they swap the character with echother and there personality so I made my own version(It's with my H.E.Au charaters so yeah just so you know) :D

Here are the characters that swapped and such.

Percy-Thomas

Percy is a small sized green engine with a number one logo on her engine,She always wanted to see the world and loved meeting new engines,She has a slight crush on Thomas and wants to get closer but is to nervous that he won't feel the same way,She looks up to James and Douglas and seems them as a huge role model,She is very cheeky but can be very shy and can sometimes say things that she doesn't mean to say,She sometimes gets very nervous when confronting Henry and speaking up to bigger engines but with James and Douglas by her side she feels confident.

Thomas-Percy

Thomas is a normal sized blue engine with the number 6 on logo on his side,He helps deliver mail and packages to there rightful place and is very cheerful and useful,He sometimes gets distracted and makes mistakes but is apologetic to anyone for what he did,He is close friends with Percy,Edward and alot of other engines,He has anxiety when his friends don't return back on time and starts freaking out,He has huge crush on Percy and wants to tell her what he thinks but is to nervous(I wonder were this is going? :D),Despite being cheerful and apologetic..He sometimes can be rude and say things he would later regret and would apologize for the whole day.

Edward-James

Edward is a normal sized blue engine with the number 5 on his side,He loves talking about himself and really dislikes working and pulling trucks,He loves calling himself gorgeous (I changed it to that instead of Splendid) and saying that he is like the sea"Bright and mysterious",He likes asking James for advice and feedback about his looks and enjoys spending time with Percy,He can be very grouchy and is fine being called Blueberry or Blue Raspberry by some of the other engines,He hates getting dirty and is very scared of scary stories despite trying to convinced others that he doesn't.

Henry-Gordon

Henry is a big sized green engine with the number four on his side,He acts all high and mighty and really is full of himself,He likes to pick on James for his age and size saying that he's "Useless and can't possibly be helpful",He is a big grump and is pretty much a donkey to the other engines,He hates to admit that he is scared of thunder and the story of the abominable snowman ☃️,He dislikes his younger sister Hella who is big and strong like him and sees her as a show off despite her not knowing how he feels and that he secretly loves his sister as well,Henry likes to pull the express and loves showing off with strength and size.

Hella(Oc)-Flying Scottsman

(I didn't write alot of my oc Hella yet but will soon)

Hella is Henry's sister who lovers her older brother and enjoys checking up on him when she has time,She doesn't know that Henry doesn't like her that much so she wholesomely continues being a cute sweet bean.

Gordon-Henry

Gordon is a big blue engine with the number 3 on his side,He is a shy nervous bean who gets picked on by the other engines for his fear of Butterfly's,He gets picked on be Henry the most but they do have a nice relationship with echother,Gordon can be a grump when not in a good mood or is being impatient and will apologise if he said something that hurt the others feelings,He has serious claustrophobia due to the wall thing and is always nervous and stressed when going by that tunnel,He is glad to have James be there to help with his issues and stress and he is glad to have someone like James.

James-Edward

James is a older red engine with the number two on his side,He isn't as old as the others say he is but he has trouble with getting to places due to his one week being crooked and off,He is a brother figure to everyone and calls everyone splendid as a compliment,He has some trouble seeing with his eyes and sometimes needs glasses to see fully(When in my human au),James is good friends with Percy and Thomas and is a big brother to them and a few other younger engines,He gets picked on be Henry and had to push him up his hill alot when he gets there.

Douglas-Duck

Douglas is a medium size black engine who has the number 8 on his side,He loves talking...alot and the other engines say that he "Honks like a goose" in which makes Douglas a little triggered,He loves saying his line "There are only two ways to do things,The Scottish way or the wrong way,I'm great scottish and I-" (Of course with a scottish accent) before he gets cut off by Henry,Gordon and Edward,He likes to talk to check up on his twin brother Donald and how he treats Phillip,Douglas has a small rival Diesel 10 for lieing and getting him in trouble for something he didn't even do,As a kid Donald found a baby duckling in which he gave to Douglas a a gift so Douglas has a pet duck named Dilly :) and he enjoys being with her.

Donald-Oliver

Donald is same thing as Douglas but has the number 11 on his side,He is a little grouchy compare to Douglas but is still a kind strong engine,He wants to repay Duck for helping him and Phillip from being scrapped and cares alot for him,He is a father figure to Phillip and basically is his adoptive dad in which Douglas likes to tease him saying "Looks like ya got a wee son on ya hands" in which Donald would shout at Douglas being triggered,He hates snow/cold and would much rather stay indoors being warm and to take the day off.

Duck-Douglas+Oliver-Donald

Duck and Oliver are both green engines with the numbers 9 and 10 on them,They aren't brothers but they treat echother like they are and even sleep in the room together,They argue about almost everything and can get very agressive when prevoked,Duck saved Donald from being fully scrapped along side Phillip and they are great friends,Duck likes to tease Douglas that he lays eggs like a goose and likes making fun of him for that but did stop when Douglas had a comeback by saying that he "Quaked harder"(I know it was Oliver but I thoughtht it would be ironic),Duck has a pet goose named Lolly and enjoys seeing her when he drives by.

Diesel 10-Diesel

Diesel 10 is a big olive Diesel who has blue streaks on his engine(He doesn't have Pinchy),He like to pick on the other engines and is having a rival with Douglas and a small one with Percy,He has a crush on Percy also so he keeps switching from being a rival to a big simping machine,He is best friends with Diesel and likes to mess around with the other engines with him and to cause trouble,He hates the song the trucks came him "Pop goes the Diesel"(I kept it the same) and that is the one reason he really is triggered by Douglas,He loves seeing baby bunnies and was caught by Percy when he was being kind and soft to them.

Diesel-Diesel 10

Diesel is a big Black and Red Diesel with a mechanic claw on his back,He is a vet destructive Diesel who can threaten to kill anyone who hurts his fellow diesels,He has a huge soft spot for Percy and he doesn't know why and he also has a soft spot for Marvis,Diesel tried to attack Marvis when he has a mental break down and lost control of what he was doing and didn't see what he was doing was bad,He felt horrible when he snapped out of it and felt like he could never be forgiven but to his surprise..Percy, Marvis,Edward and the other engines forgave him in which he felt better but still has the guilt of what he did.

Marvis-Lady

(I haven't made a Lady or a Marvis design and a headcanon for them in my au so I will update this after I make them)

Lady-Marvis

So that's all till I make more :)

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sukipershipper · 3 years

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The way you headcanon grumps is a lot like how monotremes(egg laying mammals) reproduce, pouch and all! I love it!

I was sort of going for that idea, because Grumpus’ are developed enough to have full speech and moving hands, but also have animal like features, from horns, to paws, to tusks, so I wants to apply those sorts of ideas when it came to some of the general behaviour behind a Grumpus

#bugsnax #headcanons

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blankdblank · 4 years

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Next Caller Pt 26

Sunrise brought with it the same slow stream of customers allowing the guys to watch your show on Thorin’s laptop propped on the end of the counter easily to enjoy and pause when groups arrived on the steady usuals each stealing glances at the old show surely sparking more to search for clips or even their own copies. Every so often they could catch hints of voices similar to those on the radio show subtly turning Dwalin and Balin’s heads among others who took notice of it as well.

“Is that the Adrianna?” Dwalin turned his head looking at the Hobbitess on the other side of it pointing at the laptop Thorin was leaned against a counter watching while finishing off his own cup of tea. “From the Bunny Show?”

Dwalin said, “Sounds like it doesn’t it. One of our friends is on the voice actor crew and she worked on that one as well.”

“What show is that?” She asked and copied down the title into her phone browser looking it up with a spreading smirk on her way out into the breeze she used to slide her way back to her car parked across the street after years of being used to the heavy winds this time of year.

Back to Thorin’s side Dwalin rumbled, “Told you she voiced Adrianna.” All Thorin did was chuckle to himself and that had Dwalin’s eyes narrowing at him wondering what he knew. Smirking at the thought he asked, “I heard you were made some soup and homemade bread.”

“She had bread, didn’t make it for me.”

“Still, you know what a home cooked meal alone means.”

“That was not the intention.”

“Still counts and you know it.” Only making Thorin rumble in the back of his throat sipping on his tea again.

Once his mug was empty he rumbled back, “Well she doesn’t.”

“One way to fix that,” Balin teased.

“Don’t you dare.” Thorin rumbled back making the pair chuckle.

In a trip just into your mailbox you decided to wait on it at the much heavier winds than the day before. Usually you had little mail but the daily check was becoming a sort of enjoyable trot back and forth with little to no results from the ritual. An alert on your phone however had you fetching your laptop to go and check on the Venture Publishing’s website, across the front of which sat the sketch turned ad for your book racking up comments on their board they had attached for that just flooding with the question of when the book would possibly be available. Though questions soon rippled around on how large it would be to fit all the epic scenes they had already heard in hopes of having it filled out even more. Hopes for a series were evident with more people demanding more sketches and even maps detailing hints and trips previously mentioned in the show groups had wished to mirror when summer break came.

Grinning to yourself you shut off the laptop at the sound of your doorbell. Hurrying to the door you could hear the delivery team on the other side of it who turned and grinned at you when you had opened the door. “Hi.”

“Hello,” they both replied, “Delivery for Miss Pear.” The taller one stated.

“Yes, that’s me,” you said and they split apart once you had signed the offered sheet on the clip board and passed it back again for the other pair who were lowering the heavy tree trunk desk on the metal platform from the back of the truck on a heavy duty cart. Through the gate they carefully wheeled it and all four helped it over the bottom lip of the door frame into the hall for a much easier albeit wandering path to your study where you moved the trunks aside and turned over your notepads. Gripping the desk they unwrapped they eased it off right where you wanted it and smirked in helping you lay out the mat underneath before your grin flinched a moment and you muttered, “Now I have to shop for chairs.”

In a groan you trudged out behind the chuckling four who went to load up the smaller tree like table that at how short it was you had settled into the atrium to hold your phone stand. Lastly was the davenport and stand you had settled along the wall in the parlor with no idea where you wanted it to go exactly just yet. Heavily thanking the men you said goodbye wishing them safe travels as they grinned saying to enjoy your furniture. Turning around you sighed and pulled out your phone getting to snap pictures of the trio of gifts you sent to Frerin with thanks for them.

Back to the stack of magazines you had left by your bed you curled up and got to digging again. An odd find, not an office chair per se, but a round chair similar to your round lounger in your study you drew a star next to and drew a copy of into the study sheet in your journal for your home and added to the itemized list of things to buy. With a ghost of a smirk you crossed off the two tables and davenport and felt a momentarily lift of weight at the few thousands taken off the list even after adding the new chair.

Smaller details were noted in new sketches as a sort of ‘find later’ list to discover if what you wanted was already sold by someone. Down to random pillows and possible trinkets ideas of what each room outside your already detailed guest rooms filled with lists of blankets and pillows you had purchased already crossed off above the bed sets, storage, tables, stools and minor touches. The shelves you had built already were crossed off and next would be a few dresser and shelf kits for the other rooms easily painted. Little by little it was coming together, at least in your mind, with paintings to be added for decorations you could handle yourself saving that hassle of finding the right ones later on.

Finally the winds died down and you went to the mailbox managing the trip only to find another delivery arriving that you had ordered full of self building kits for simple tables, shelving units, stools and nightstands for your guest rooms. More thanks and waves later you smirked bringing your journal out to cross each off while you completed assembling them. In the open garage you worked to the sound of the neighborhood around you with a few people milling around about their days stealing glimpses to try and figure out just what else you had been adding to your home. All the stools, both with hammer on cushions included and hidden storage cubes with the same additional easy kits already in the colors you wanted were added to their intended rooms. For the table above two storage cubes between two of the beds in the orange and blue room in the white you wanted it was added as well where it was intended.

Nightstands were next with each topped with post it notes to mark the colors needed and where they were all going. Payday was Monday and the new paint would have to wait until then. By dinner twenty kits were finished off and the cardboard sliced up into a neat pile you left by your rolling green trash can with barely a bag to add to it yet. With what little you could afford in your former apartment you really didn’t create much waste that couldn’t be reused in one way or another. More stew was made and you smirked crossing off more things from your list to complete or purchase. Post cleanup however you were back to your study making more notes to add to your notepads on the new book until bed.

Post shower in a fresh set of clothes you braided back your hair and stepped out your front door seeing Dwalin and Bilbo’s car there waiting for you. The wind was tolerable compared to most of the week and climbed in beside the napping toddler you settled listening in while the adorably hushed bickering of the couple had rose up again after a pleasant greeting for you. Out on the curb you stepped closing the door and sliding a little until Dwalin hurried around to use a hand guiding you to the door he unlocked to help you through before hurrying out leaving you a bit confused in his hop back into the car. And Thorin more so when he arrived next through the front door from parking behind the shop halfway lost in thought from a dream about his planting herbs in your greenhouse for his own little section of the gardening haven almost making him blush in seeing you.

Waving at the confused grump you said, “I think Dwalin’s dropping off Bilbo and Frodo.”

He nodded and got to readying the counter top and got to heating up your cider. “Sleep well?”

“Ya, got some more kits in yesterday, so put those together now I just have to paint the ones not the right color next week.”

“Why next week? Is it that big of a job?”

“No, just, Monday’s payday.” When his lips parted you pointed at him, “No. It’s a few days, keep that wallet of yours in your pants.”

“If you need help painting at least-,”

“Shouldn’t really need help, though most I can brush on, two would need to be spray painted for the coating that I want.”

Dwalin was back within a few moments and said, “Back,”

You grinned at him saying, “I can walk-,”

He swatted his hand in the air, “No you won’t. I knew by the time I got back Thorin would have gotten your drink ready for you.” He glanced between you asking, “Ready to go?” In accepting the mug you nodded and passed Thorin the bill he nearly gave back to you so you could put it towards your paint he didn’t want you to wait on. To Dwalin you were running late already and thankfully you had gotten there early to have the time to get up all the stairs. Leaning against the wall across from your booth you caught Mal’s panting entrance to the floor bringing her to plop down on the ground beside you.

“Looks like the lift repairs ran late.”

Wryly Mal let out a chuckle and replied, “Oh ya. Well they have five hours to fix it.”

“Well I’m not a fan either of sliding down stairs but things happen. I guess I’m used to it after the one in my old place being shut off when I got home from the hotel every night.”

She looked up at you, “No wonder your legs are amazing. 17 floors of stairs every night.”

You shrugged, “Had to get back to my birds somehow.”

“How are they?”

“Belly’s happy, loves Darling, Dot is settling I think, Kuu has more owl friends so he’s good, and the couple in the yard have three eggs and have said if their daughter and Kuu hit it off they would be leaving her with me since there are so many girls in their home. Even let me touch their eggs.”

“Wow, that’s huge.”

You nodded, “Yup, of course it’ll be at least a couple years by the time till their girl and Kuu would both be ready for nesting and such, so no telling how long they choose to stay, but they said they’d visit often. However often often is.” Making her giggle before you asked, “How was your night?”

“Just finishing off my costume. Parents get in today.”

“Ooh, they staying in a hotel?”

She chuckled again, “My place. Set up the air mattress for me and they get my bed.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Not really, hate that mattress, but Adad needs a better bed for his hip and shoulder, and Amad just prefers beds.”

“Sounds familiar,” you teased and your hand dipped to help her up at the sign off of the group before yours.

Durin the Deathless and Ents. That was what had the world buzzing. Against the hideout the Ents struck and flooded Holm’s lands sending him scurrying for his life in time for Durin the Deathless to swoop down in a shark shaped flying craft that lifted the culprit from the lands below and soar off to the unknown. Miles below however Bunny was still left in the hand of her savior Ent taking her off to who knows where while the Tibelt came up on an endless force they did not expect. All hope was almost lost until a shark ship came out of nowhere and to the Durins’ amusement his voice sounded eerily like their late Great Grandfather, who would have been eternally honored to have been the inspiration of their ancestor’s voice.

Out of his office Thorin walked hoping that after his lunch break he might be able to find some room to aid in the next round of refills only to have Balin’s hand settle in his head forcing him down out of sight. “Wh-,”

“Shh,” Using his legs Balin ushered him to the back hall out of sight of the customers when Thorin popped up only to hear, “Zeqbe. Go, now.”

Thorin, “I’m not hiding-,”

Balin replied, “No, you are buying tea for your Mafioso. You’ve been sighing about it all day and you should go now before you get into a mood before this weekend.”

Thorin, “Balin,”

“I am older than you and my foot is down, the Lass is probably bored out of her mind after work, you mentioned she needs paint,”

“She wants to buy her own paint.”

“Then bring her tea and maybe ask her to a film.” The last half of the sentence more of a gritted order making Thorin roll his eyes and grab his coat on his way to the tea shop listening to your show on the radio smirking proudly at how your story was turning. With another full basket of tea he pulled out his phone at the alert of someone using his gate code in the garage at his apartment. Across the screen of his phone he saw the picture of his ex and hit the decline button on his screen blocking her entrance into the garage and sending her picture to the front entrance in case she got out that would have security escorting her off the premises.

Dwalin, “Sorry, some trouble at the shop.” You nodded and watched the shop pass by on his way to take you home again. A few streets later and you spotted Thorin’s car in your driveway making you look at Dwalin with a brow raised. “Oh look, Thorin’s here.”

“Uh huh, and here you are clueless.”

“Exactly.” You rolled your eyes and climbed out of your door that Thorin opened for you to help keep you from sliding away. Taking hold of his arm you waved goodbye to Dwalin in his pull away and turned to the mailbox he stayed close while you checked the empty box then led you to the door.

“Did a bird go crazy with your blenders?” he looked at you when you stepped into the front entrance blocking you from the winds. “They said there was trouble at the shop.”

Shaking his head he said, “Apparently I was told to hide, an unfortunate guest.”

“Ah, Muffin Lady again.” At that he chuckled and you said eyeing the bag in his hand, “I see you brought tea.”

“Yes. With plenty for a cup for you.” When you let him in he hummed out, “That was my Great Grandfather’s voice,” Your brow inched up peering up at him, “For Durin, sounded just like him.”

“Ah, politician?”

“Yes.”

You nodded and said, “I remembered the voice from speeches playing at one of my old jobs. Must have just, stuck.”

Lowly he chuckled guiding you in through the parlor to the kitchen where he stopped smirking at the davenport. “Did you build this?”

You shook your head, “No, Frerin snuck a peek at my list, got me this, a small table and my desk I wanted.”

“Ooh,” you giggled and he said, “After your tea is ready I hope you don’t mind my being nosy.”

You smirked at him, “You nosy, never.” Making him roll his eyes.

A few minutes of showing you what everything was he had bought you while the water boiled and the tea seeped later and you snapped a picture pocketing your phone nodding your head to the side. Guiding him from the kitchen through each of your guest rooms passing the atrium he smirked in seeing your new table to hold your phone stand. “This is what you meant by tree table,” he all but purred adoringly loving it already and kept on going to the next room seeing the bits and pieces of the rooms coming together.

The desk in your office and the twin modern baroque nightstands for your mother’s bedroom in rectangle contrasting your more curvy pair in your room you paused at showing your odd but adorable blend of tastes used to fill each space.

“I can’t tell if they fit or not, but I do like them.”

Smirking at you he hummed back, “They fit just fine.” He said eyeing the trunks that used to by your bed as a nightstand now at the foot of it. “It’s all lovely, what else needs to be painted?”

Out to the garage you went showing him each piece and the rooms they would go in complete with sketches to complete the ideas. “So not bad,”

“No, not bad at all. What was your next step, on payday?”

“Well the bunk bed company is seasonal, so I was thinking maybe starting with that. It’s expensive, but, it would get that out of the way, and I’d have to get the mattresses too, they say they’ll add the mattresses if we have them through the build if not I’ll have to figure out how to do that on my own.”

“How expensive?”

“With mattresses 6k.” He bit his lip and you said, “Which after that I could maybe get a couple bed frames too.”

“Frerin mentioned you got 40 k a month for your show, surely-,”

“35 after taxes and I wanted to save 17.”

“That’s not unreasonable. Then you have 12 left,”

“Ten-ish,”

“Again with the ish,” he hummed with a smirk your way.

You rolled your eyes, “For the scooter.”

“Alright, ten-ish, you can do a lot with that, just bed frames or mattresses too?”

“The others can wait.” He huffed and you said, “Then you can focus on searching for more for your own place.”

“My place is furnished to my needs already.”

You fake gasped deepening his smirk, “What a coincidence, so is mine.”

Making him chuckle. “How about a movie then?”

“Are you asking to take me or to hide yourself?”

“I am asking. Have some fun.”

“Fine, but you’re buying snacks.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” He said as you finished off your tea, the mug from which you took to the sink then joined him out to his car.

Keeping a hand on your back he helped you to his car and started the drive to the theater. One film on a jungle adventure had you both giggling and murmuring about the ridiculous gliders used and rock climbing turned to endless plummet scene. Boneless chicken bites and dipping sauces to large supplies of fries solved your hunger and allowed Thorin reason to lean close to you, at least until they were gone and he simply refused to shift the other way for the rest of the film.

“I knew I saw your car.”

Turning around you smirked saying, “Muffins Galore, right?” That had her grin flinching as you asked, “How’s your husband?”

The breeze picked up and his hand settled on your hip with his arm around you holding you in place, “He’s fine.” She said curtly, then looked to Thorin, “A Hobbit seriously?”

“Careful, he’s a quarter Hobbit. Plus if Dis hears you say that she’ll pummel you. I’ve seen her protective rage over their lineage.”

“I don’t need you to tell me they’re part Hobbit! I know them! I’m here to talk to Thorin!” She said with a stomp of her foot.

“Ok, you’re bigger than me you don’t need to stomp like a two year old. And he’s right here,” you said waving a hand in front of his chest making him try not to crack a grin at your game show prize introductory like motion. “Go for it.”

She looked at you, “Alone.”

“Well, I see a very big problem with that, I happen to be aerodynamic and the car is all the way over there and cuddlekins here is keeping me grounded, so, I can plug my ears if you like, but I warn you I’m about 2/3 Elf and a quarter Maiar so, ya I have exceptionally good hearing so you’d be better off just saying it without the charade.”

At that her eye twitched in your grin and Thorin said, “Miss Marne,”

“You know my name, Thorin!” She barked back.

To which he repeated, “Miss Marne, we are no longer on familiar terms and I will not address you in such a manner. What was between us has been dissolved for some decades and I suggest you accept your choice, which seemed to be an acceptable one up until this last expo. Give my best to Mr Grenald I wish you and yours the best.”

In his step away you grinned and pointed at her, “And congrats on the baby.” Her grin dropped entirely and you looked up at Thorin, “Did I say something?”

Lowly he chuckled rumbling back, “Hobbits catch on to pregnancies earlier than others.”

“Oh,” you said then flashed her another grin, “They have lovely cakes down the block if you wanted to surprise your Hubby with the news!” Turning to face the path to the car leaving her stuck in place wither hair blowing into her face still after her hands dropped from holding it to her chest. “I think that went well.” You said a few feet away making him chuckle again.

“Cuddlekins?” He rumbled to you and you smirked at him.

“What would you have preferred, Schmootseypoo?”

“No, a million times no.”

“Cuddle Monster?”

“No.” He said fighting a smirk and his creeping blush.

“Oh come on, you would make an adorable Cuddle Monster.” Making him chuckle again at his cheeks prickling to pink. “What about Pookie? Classic, even Garfield had a Pookie!”

“Cuddle Monster is fine.” Making you let out a squeak and him chuckle at your awkward flinch of a hug around his middle, “Just don’t tell the boys.”

In pulling back to climb into the car door he opened for you he chuckled as you said, “Oh trust me, they have no grounds for what she could call them.”

Rolling his eyes he closed the door and walked around, muttering, “Cuddle monster.”

Once inside he looked at you when you asked, “Do you know any fabric stores?”

“Yes, why?”

“Curtains. We don’t have to but if you know where one is I can go later.”

“We can go.”

Looking at him you said, “Sorry if you think I crossed a line.”

He looked at you asking, “About my ex?” You nodded, “You did me a favor actually.” Wetting his lips he looked you over then asked, “Are the curtains for the guest rooms? The big window in yours has the internal ones, right?”

You nodded, “Ya, they only have those small windows, but Naneth and Cirdan’s have that one huge set. Shouldn’t be that much I don’t think. Some good thick striped materials and some teal for hers, peach for my sisters’. Then I have that back room, not really sure what to do with that yet, living room and parlor have internal blinds. I don’t mind the others with the windows aiming into the back yard, and I know Naneth would love her view of the garden half of it but still, I wouldn’t want to make Cirdan imagine he couldn’t linger in his towel if he wanted.”

“Ah, free spirit?”

“No, just, who doesn’t linger from time to time and he’s got a lot to get caught showing off.”

Thorin chuckled and hummed, “Normally that would be said with irritation or a hint of reluctance.”

“He’s a very good looking male in Elven standards. And probably Dwarf standards for some.” That had his brow inching up, “He has an amazing beard, and hair. He’s not round though, muscular,”

“And nearly ten feet tall.”

“That too. But he gives amazing hugs.”

“I bet. If I can poke a sleeping horse for a moment, I am glad to hear you love him so much.”

“Hard not to when he loved her so amazingly while I was gone. Plus he was, one of the most intimidating and the least threatening men I’d ever met. I’m hers, and he wanted to love every part of her, even me. He is also absurdly patient. Like one of those Elves that could sit near wild horses and they would break first and come closer to check him out. That’s how he won me over, like a wild horse, let me come to him. I mean, I was an adult, or at least considered to be. He let me be a kid again, no doubt my size didn’t hurt that.”

“Well we all certainly can’t wait to meet them when they come to visit.”

Resisting the urge to buy fabric was hard for him but he grinned seeing you copying down the info for the fabrics you wanted so that you could come back another time along with rings that you could stitch into them that you would pair with the right curtain rods.

Pt 27

#Thorin x Reader OC #Hobbit #lotr #Dwalin x Bilbo

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janeykath318 · 7 years

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The Trials Of Being A Bodyguard- END

#my fics #mckirk #genderswap #royalty AU

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quatschmachen · 7 years

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Fences

2020 Arc continues

XXXXX

It had been eight when the delicious smell of something cooking had awakened him. He could hear the other two men bustling about the house and stretching he took a moment to realize that he felt mildly content. What had happened last night?

As he rolled out of bed and got dressed the memories slowly came back, from the insane rap battle over those delicious brownies (he regretted that none of them had lasted for this morning), to singing late into the night together. As he pulled on his pants he wondered what adventure would be in store today, when he remembered that he was going home today.

Running his fingers through his hair, he thought it hilarious that he had spent the past three days desperate to escape and the day he was going to fly out, it was the last thing he wanted.

Placing his feet into the slippers, he shuffled into the kitchen, the smell of food increasing. Peering in, he saw Ed hovering by some strange device. He opened it up and waffles magically appeared. Étienne frowned as Ed opened the oven and slipped the waffles in. Why would they need to be baked? Ed then poured some batter into the …waffle maker? then closed it before he glanced over and smiled warmly at Étienne.

“Good morning, sure hope you don’t mind some cinnamon clove waffles… Did you sleep well?”

In response Étienne yawned and settled onto a chair giving Ed an expectant look, but also curious as to why Ed was wearing not so nice clothing. Perhaps he intended to do yard work after he left?

A loud bustle as the back door opened informed him Calvin had come in.

“Oh my god Ed this is so cute,” Calvin’s voice carried from the back door, and after a couple thumps, probably Calvin removing his shoes, he emerged into the kitchen, wearing some worn gardening pants, and a shirt that had seen better days. He had a basket full of eggs in one hand, his phone in the other with a picture. “Esther has literally taken Étienne’s lock of hair and put it into her bed!”

Taking the phone, Ed smiled, “Aww, she must like you, Étienne.”

Giving a slight jump, Calvin looked towards Étienne, his look of surprise turning into a smile, “Geez didn’t even see ya there, good morning! You all packed to go? When does your plane leave again?”

“Mornin’…” Étienne looked at the photo Ed was showing him, which showed a grumpy Esther shuffled to the side of her bed with the hair poking out beneath her eggs. “Mm I am mostly packed… my plane leaves at 1:45pm.”

“Oh really? I thought…” Calvin’s tone was surprised, “Who are you flying with again?”

“Air Canada…” Étienne looked over to Calvin and raised an enquiring brow. “Is there a problem?”

“Oh no, not at all, just making sure I know what time we are driving you out and all.” He moved to the coffee and began to pour out three mugs worth. He set one down in front of Étienne, and then set the table, placing the cream and sugar out. “What do you take on your waffles?”

Usually Étienne took maple syrup, but he thought better of this and responded, “Jam.”

“Good idea. What type?”

“Whatever Ed has made that goes with waffles?” Étienne was stirring the cream and sugar into his coffee, and he glanced over to Ed who once more popped some waffles into the oven.

“Hmm well, probably an apple jelly,” Ed mused, as he set out a selection of jams. After a couple moments, he turned the oven off and removed the plate. Placing the last two waffles onto the pile of waffles, he set the plate in the middle of the table on top of a cork pad. “Dig in!”

To say it was a feeding frenzy would be an understatement. Calvin had grabbed two waffles right off the bat, and Étienne, knowing that this would be the last time in a while before he ate this delicious food again instinctively grabbed five of them.

Which meant Ed got one waffle, however, he glanced at Étienne with too much amusement to make any comment of complaint. Calvin opened his mouth to protest this unfair practice, only to be silenced by a kick from Ed. Sending him a questioning look, Ed simply shook his head at Calvin, before pointedly glancing over to Étienne who had smeared apple jelly over his waffle and was hungrily consuming them. Two of them had already disappeared.

Grumpily Calvin loudly cut into his waffle, knowing that Ed was being sweet on Étienne, since he had come to town looking like some malnourished naked mole rat. Finishing his waffle, Ed stood up.

“Well, looks like I underestimated!” he said lightly as Étienne looked up from his plate towards Ed, with a piece of waffle hanging out of his mouth. “Ah… how many more do you think we’ll need?”

Giving Étienne a Look, Calvin responded, “Probably ten more so the vacuum cleaner over here can be filled up.”

Shooting Calvin a dirty look, Étienne responded, “Excuse me, I am eating as much as possible. While you have the luxury of this food every day, I do not.”

Ed had already begun mixing up the batter, using the fresh eggs that Calvin had brought in.

“That doesn’t mean you have to take five waffles at once!” Calvin grumped, leaning over with his fork to grab one. In response Étienne snatched his plate out of his reach, protectively cradling it against his chest.

“Don’t you dare Calvin, these have been claimed,” he hissed, before attempting to stuff an entire waffle into his mouth.

“Oh my god, Ed is literally making more, Étienne! It’s not like there’s gonna be a waffle shortage in the world!” Calvin complained leaning forward to grab the last waffle off of Étienne’s plate. In response Étienne stood up abruptly, the chair clattering to the floor as he moved out of Calvin’s reach entirely. Swallowing the waffle, he placed the last one into his mouth and triumphantly looked at Calvin (who had ended up awkwardly semi-splayed across the table, fork useless in his hand) as he watched in disbelief as Étienne consumed the fifth waffle.

“Calvin,” Ed’s voice was slightly choked, probably from trying not to laugh, “Here, I made you some waffles.”

Quickly Calvin scrabbled back into his chair, and took the proffered waffles, suspiciously tossing glances towards Étienne as he spread some of the apple jelly on top of them. Étienne was busy wiping his mouth, and edging closer to Ed, the Waffle Provider, until he was right next to Ed, intently watching him as he made the waffles.

“So you… were putting them into the oven to keep them warm?” Étienne hesitantly asked.

“Mm? Yeah.” Ed looked over to him, “How many more do you want? Or are you full?”

In response Étienne’s stomach rumbled, “At least five more?”

“Are… you sure you can eat ten waffles, Étienne?” the tone was skeptical, “You aren’t going to be getting a tummy ache on the way home?”

“If I die it is fine,” Étienne responded holding his plate out, “It would be worth it, I am in love.” He paused, hearing a clatter behind him as Calvin might have dropped his fork on his plate, and then added, “with these waffles.”

Rolling his eyes, Ed had a small smile as he dished out two waffles onto Étienne’s plate, “Fine, here you go.”

Étienne shuffled over to the table, and giving Calvin a suspicious glance, grabbed the apple jelly before retreating back to the counter next to Ed to eat them away from certain danger.

“Edddd,” Calvin complained as he stood up, “I want more waffles too.”

“Unbelievable,” Ed muttered, as he stood in front of the waffle maker, “Alright um… well since this only makes two at a time… what if I give you one each?”

Étienne and Calvin shared a look, as if determining how much they trusted the other man, until finally they looked to Ed and gave a nod.

By the time the waffle mix had gone, Étienne had managed, just barely, to eat his goal of ten waffles. He had managed to stumble into the living room, before collapsing onto the couch in a food coma. Calvin, who apparently felt challenged by Étienne, had managed eight, before he too had followed Étienne into the living room, and splayed onto the floor softly moaning.

Thoroughly tired of waffle making, and not bothering to make anymore for himself, Ed opted for some granola, fruit, and yoghurt, the other two men having eaten all of the waffles. Usually he would be annoyed at this, but as he took a picture of the two men laying down in food comas, he could only feel amusement. Finishing his food, he disappeared into the kitchen, before sneaking past into the guest bedroom. It only took a few moments - the bag was already packed - for him to take it and the suitcase to set it by the back door. The time was moving on, and he knew that if he did not bring the two men back to life anytime soon Étienne would miss his airplane.

Walking back to the living room, he clapped his hands together, “Alright you two, it’s time to get to the airport.”

Soft groans came from the two men, but Calvin managed to sit up and look at Ed. “Already?”

“Well, Étienne needs to check in and stuff, right?” Ed glanced over to the man on the couch, “Unless you have accepted the concept of online check in?”

“No, I haven’t,” Étienne responded. He had tried it once, and it had been a disaster. He had vowed never to do that again.

XXXX

They had dropped him off with plenty of time to catch his airplane. It was the 1:45 direct flight to Montreal, and Étienne was full of mixed feelings upon returning home. Relief was one of them, some of the others he was not so sure he wanted to identify.

As he went to the check-in desk, he handed over his coffee-stained paper. The lady took it, and frowned. She looked as if she had been born and lived her entire life in the airport, her face sagging with disillusionment, her tightly curled grey hair neatly pinned under cap, and not a ruffle out of place in her uniform.

This woman was not the milk and cookies grandma, but the one you avoided in case she wanted to cane you, Étienne thought grimly.

“Your plane has left. It left at 11: 45 am.” Her voice had the tired but firm air of an employee who had dealt with this situation before.

Étienne frowned, “But it leaves at 1:45pm?”

“Perhaps if you had reprinted your ticket, you would have seen the correct time?” The desk lady was talking to him slowly as if he were a child who didn’t understand English well. Out of spite Étienne wanted to switch into fluid French.

“There are no refunds for a missed flight. You can always rebook, the next flight leaves…” she tippity tapped on her computer, “Monday.” The lady looked at him, her tone clipped, her gaze implying ‘if you can even show up on time’.

“Is there no earlier plane?”

“If you want a direct flight nope, the other option will have you go through Toronto, which leaves this evening. Otherwise there is no direct flight with Air Canada until Monday.” She smiled at him politely, the smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Would you like to rebook?”

Feeling irritated, embarrassed, and pissed, Étienne shook his head, he did not even want to give this lady the satisfaction of rebooking. “I will rebook later.”

Picking up his briefcase and grabbing his bag, he stalked away wondering what the hell he would do now… would it be good to swallow his pride and admit his mistake? Call Ed and Cal “Hey so I’m an idiot and missed my plane, totally did not do this on purpose to eat more of your food…” As if that would go down well.

Perhaps he could just explore Alberta?

Also, why the hell was his bag so heavy? He had noticed it the moment Ed had handed it to him, as they said goodbye. They had dropped him off like a piece of unwanted luggage right outside the doors, before they had zoomed away. When he had bent to pick up his bag he thought his arm was going to rip out of its socket, and as he lugged it to the check in desk he was so focused on checking in he figured he would discover the weight later when he got home.

However, now he was trapped here… He had not bought anything, so it was odd that his bag should be so heavy.

Setting the bag down, he squatted beside it and opened it up to inspect whether or not one of Calvin’s horse sculptures had decided to stow away. His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him. There were a few jams, expertly peeking out of his clothing, wrapped tightly in bags in case they broke. Then there were the cookies tucked in, at least five bags worth of various types. Plus some cleverly deflated bags of those apple crisps… Étienne could feel his mouth watering already despite the hearty breakfast he had eaten.

On top lay a note, a piece of paper folded over with his name handwritten in an all too familiar scrawl. What the-? When had-? Tentatively he picked up the note, his legs giving out from the squat into him simply sitting on the airport floor, ignoring the curious looks of passing persons.

Taking a moment to gather himself, his heart rate having picked up, he opened the paper.

Étienne,

It was great having you over. Feel free to drop by anytime. Loved catching up with you. Let’s not leave it so long! Maybe I can wrangle some time to visit you within the next six months? Might have to bring Calvin along if you don’t mind.

Ed.

p.s. I included a few snacks for your trip in case you got hungry. It looks like you aren’t eating enough again!

p.p.s I am always available to cut your hair if you are too lazy to get it tamed.

He read the note over and over, unable to believe it. His throat was tight, and his eyes for some weird reason were prickling. With a startling insight, he realized, he did not want to go home. Not yet anyway. Hell his confused feelings as to having missed his flight? It was relief. He had a reason to stay. In between choking and laughing, he ran his fingers through his hair and took out his phone. It was blurry and he realized that his eyes had misted up for no good reason; awkwardly he wiped them and looked at it. Was he going to do it? Would they make fun of him? Probably but… the thought of going home to his empty apartment did not appeal. The idea sat there in front of him like a large black widow spider, overwhelmingly black, where if he were to enter it would consume him once more into its misery trapping him back into the cycle of… well whatever the hell he was feeling. Thinking of returning to Ed’s… well it was not exactly heaven, but he realized he had been actually rather happy at some points which honestly had been the happiest he had been for a while. Continuing that? Perhaps with eating through the rest of those ready meals… well… it sure seemed a hell of a lot better than going home at the moment.

He knew that as he looked up Ed’s phone number he would regret this right away, knowing that his pride would be laughing at him for this momentary weakness. At the moment he simply did not give a damn though.

XXXX

After complaining about being hungry, Edward and Calvin had decided to take a snack at the Tim Hortons right by the airport. When Ed had suggested simply going through the drive-thru, Calvin had checked his watch and insisted they go in to eat.

Deciding that he did not want to protest, Ed had agreed, which resulted in him stuffing his face (honestly, granola and yoghurt never did cut it), when his phone rang. Frantically he looked at it, the name popping up and letting him know it was Étienne. He motioned to Calvin to pick it up.

“Eeyup?” Calvin answered to the furtive hello from Étienne.

“…Ed… you sure sound a lot like Calvin.”

“Yuparooni… hold on. Lemme putcha on speakerphone, Ed has a face full of grub.” After some beeping and booping, suddenly Étienne’s voice crackled.

“Wait… so you are answering his phone?”

Swallowing Ed added, “I don’t want to be rude, but shouldn’t you be on an airplane? Why are you calling us for?”

There was a pregnant pause, enough for Ed to get another bite of his sandwich while raising his eyebrows at Calvin in question.

Finally, Étienne managed to say, “I… I hate to say this but I have missed my airplane… and there isn’t another one for a few days. I don’t know what to do.”

Ed nearly choked on his sandwich, which resulted in a lot of coughing, Calvin thumping his back, and Étienne asking if everything was alright.

When the coughing had subsided, Calvin asked, “Say, Ed, do we take him back in?” the tone was joking, the question serious.

“Oh well, I dunno…” Ed dragged his response out, trying to gauge what Calvin was feeling about this phone call. For some reason Calvin did not seem very… surprised?

“You guys know I can hear this conversation right?” Étienne cut in, his voice irritated, “I am not a piece of meatloaf to be abandoned.”

“And here I thought you were an old baguette who had seen better days and probably was only good for bread pudding?” Edward responded with some humour, “We’ll come get you where we dropped you off. Luckily for you we actually are at the Tim Hortons snacking. I think a suitable punishment would be a double double?”

“Oh my god, you wouldn’t dare get me…”

“Be there in fifteen!” Calvin added as he clicked off the phone. “So…?”

In response Edward raised his eyebrows, “Is there something you are not telling me, Calvin?”

“Ehh? What do you mean?” Calvin tried to look innocent as he took a sip of coffee, but failed miserably.

“Calvin Bris-“

“Ok I’ll spill!! Shh!” Calvin looked around as if worried someone would have heard the middle name being said, “Ok… I thought it was odd his flight was leaving at such a time… so I uh… checked on my phone… and if well… y’know if he was gonna miss it.”

“Do you mean you knew he was going to miss his flight?!”

Calvin shrugged, “I was going to mention that he had the time wrong, but then he kept eatin’ all the waffles so I forgot.”

“But you drove him down here anyways?”

“Mmm… well… I was a little embarrassed by that point…”

Edward returned to his sandwich, staring at Calvin thoughtfully. As he finished it, he sighed. “Calvin, what is up? You don’t seem very… upset he is staying longer.”

Fiddling with his cup, Calvin focused upon Edward’s forehead, before letting out a sigh, “Alright, I’m worried about him too. I felt that… if we did get him home on time… it might be the last time we see him? I know that is irrational… but there you have it.”

Edward reached across the table, grasping Calvin’s hand. “Are you sure about this though?”

“You make it sound as if we are adopting an unruly kitten that chases chickens, Ed,” Calvin smiled, and placed his free hand atop of Ed’s. “Look, he is an important part of your life, and I accept that. He can become part of mine too. Plus, he decided to phone us. That means he wants to stay. He coulda always stayed at the airport.”

Biting his lower lip, Edward really wanted to ask once more if Calvin was sure about this, but was interrupted when Calvin gave his hand a pat, and then pulled out of his grasp. “I need to get him a double double… punishment, right?”

“Oh… Étienne is going to kill you, you ordered him subpar coffee.”

“It would be rude to pick him up and not let him have a coffee though,” Calvin responded with a small smirk. “Isn’t there an obligation to drink someone’s present?”

“Oh my god Calvin, you are the worst,” Ed laughed. “there is no guarantee that he would drink it… he could just spill it out on the floor.”

“If he doesn’t drink it he can’t get in my truck!”

“Good luck Calvin, he might just hitch a ride in the truck bed.” Ed responded as he picked up their empty wrappers to take them to the garbage.

As they pulled up to the Departures, Étienne was standing outside looking embarrassed, and as he tossed his bags in then hopped into the back seat of the truck, he frowned at the box of Tim Hortons doughnuts beside him.

“Did you guys really?”

Glancing back, partially to make sure Étienne had buckled up, Calvin smirked. “Look, here is the warning. We are not returning back to the house right away, in fact we have an errand to do… this will probably be your only sustenance for the next while. If you don’t drink the double double, or eat the doughnuts I especially purchased for you… well…” here he gave a shoulder shrug, “You may just die of starvation.”

“We just ate, I don’t think I could eat another food… anyways why were you eating at Tim Hortons?” Étienne asked. The fact that Ed had a mouth full of food when he phoned puzzled him.

In response, Ed tiredly looked over to him from his seat up front, “Because y’all ate my waffles.”

“Oh… couldn’t you make more?” suddenly Étienne felt like a dick for his binge eating this morning.

Ed gave a reassuring smile towards Étienne, letting him know it was alright, “What and miss your flight?”

“Ha.Ha.” his attention turned to Calvin as they pulled out from the temporary pick up zone. “Where are we going anyway?”

“Baba Chayka,” Ed’s face seemed to light up as he said this name that meant nothing to Étienne, “it’s going to be a hard day of yard work.”

“Why are you doing yard work not at your house?” This entire situation was confusing, and Étienne once more felt out of place. Of course Calvin and Edward would have plans for after he had gone.

Ed had twisted more in his seat so he could have a better look at Étienne, “She’s like a grandma I ended up adopting in the 90’s.”

“You what… and you never?” Étienne frowned feeling like this was another realm of unknown crap he was about to be entering.

“Well, it wasn’t such a big thing in the 90’s? I really connected with her more recently, because I ran into her and she recognized me.” Ed explained, “I knew her from the 90’s. I was friends with her son, Daniel… who died from AIDS. Her other kids have grown up and moved out and don’t visit as often. So I check in on her. Today we are going to get her yard shipshape, and pull through on the promise to paint her fence.”

“Oh.” Étienne remembered how once Ed had shown up out of the blue, crying. It had been about then… remembered how heartbroken Ed had been over Daniel’s death. The toll of those who died wearing them down, each one piling up as sand scratching against their bodies as helplessly they had looked on. It surprised him that Ed had kept in contact with Daniel’s mother… but somehow it made him like Ed even more. “So… am I going to have to paint?”

“Auyup,” Calvin responded, “You have abandoned guest status by overstaying, so now you have been absorbed into our group. Basically like family. You too get to do the shitty chores.”

“I what? If you didn’t want me – ” Étienne began, until the words began to sink in. “Family?”

Calvin glanced up into the rear-view mirror with amusement, “Hell Étienne, you gotta stop bein’ so coy. We’re just gonna be treatin’ you like one of us.”

“I think he wants you to clean out the chicken coop,” Ed added in a teasing tone.

“Sure do!” Calvin laughed. “I’m tired of their shit!”

Étienne stared ahead, not sure what to feel or say. What the hell? Family? Because he had overstayed? Did he feel happy or upset about this? Did family still want to fuck a family member? What sort of family? Distant enough cousin to still lust after Ed? (And he hated to admit it, sometimes, Calvin did enter his thoughts).

“Anyways,” Calvin continued, as he shoulder checked and then switched lanes, heading off the QEII, “I am sure we are much better company than that pissypants brother of yours.”

“Pissypants… Samuel?” Étienne asked in amusement, “What did he do to you for such a damning title?”

“Well, he decided to agree with you and cause a ruckus about the pipeline,” Calvin said.

“And then he may have tried to insinuate that Calvin was an idiot.” Ed added.

“I am pretty sure he did, he said it in French, but y’know since now my French is up to par I understood every damn word,” Calvin looked up into the rear-view mirror again, and Étienne saw a rather wicked smile upon his face. “Not that he needs to know.”

“Oh my god,” Étienne laughed, “What did you do, Calvin?”

“What, me? Why do you think I did anything? I am sweeter than the pie on Tuesday.” the tone was too innocent, and the fact that Ed had given a rather loud snort at this let Étienne know Calvin had done Something. “Ed, you are not helping this.”

“You should tell him,” Ed responded, he glanced back to Étienne, grinning, “It was so bad.”

“Tell me!” Étienne banged the back of Calvin’s seat, “You have me on tenterhooks!”

“Only if you promise not to out me,” Calvin responded, “I don’t want to have to face the wrath of him.”

“Why would I out you?” Étienne responded, “He has been a thorn in my side since the moment we came into existence.”

“Hmmm… alright…” Calvin paused, then “You know, when he had that hair trouble? Where it suddenly turned into a really bad patchy blond colour?”

“…No… you didn’t… how?” Étienne gasped.

“Can’t tell you all the tricks of the trade, Étienne, but let me tell you, it was very satisfying.”

“Oh my god, it was you?! He was blaming me for that! Just because I was the first to see him!” Étienne laughed, “And it was you all along! How the hell…”

“Sometimes the best vengeance takes time,” Calvin responded, “Anyways, we are here.” He had pulled up outside a small bungalow, surrounded by the saddest looking picket fence known to humankind. The lawn was slightly overgrown, but there were some cheery looking flowers in boxes. Despite the fence and the lawn, the house looked well kept, well lived in, as if it had seen many happy memories.

As they were climbing out of the truck, the front door opened and there stood a wizened old lady, pink floral headscarf neatly tied, cane in hand. Her face beamed.

“Edward!” and then the next words she said Étienne vaguely knew it was probably Ukrainian, but he really was not that honed up on the language.

And then he managed to respond to her, and Étienne looked over to Calvin feeling lost.

Calvin however, after rolling up the metal cover on the truck bed, was rooting around in the back squatting above a heavy-duty workbox, he pulled out a pair of blue jean coveralls, and the saddest looking baseball cap, black, squished and dusty, with a faded logo on it.

“Catch.”

In confusion, Étienne caught the items, as Calvin shut the work box, and took another container, filled with paint and the painting tools, out of the back. Placing it on the ground, he reached in once more and pulled out a basket (which seemed to hold the promise of food).

“Calvin!” Baba Chayka (whom Étienne decided was the type of old lady that was going to feed you), had moved over to Calvin, and he bent down so that she could kiss him on each cheek.

Ed had taken the basket from Baba Chayka, and as she pulled away, she looked directly at Étienne. “Who is?”

“This is our friend, Étienne,” Ed responded, “He is visiting from Montreal. Étienne, this is Baba Chayka.”

“Welcome, welcome! Any friend of Edward is a friend of mine, I see you have come to do some painting?” she gestured towards the coveralls, “Come in, we will get you ready.”

They followed her in, Calvin carrying the box of painting tools bringing up the rear. Inside, the house was neat as a pin. Lace doilies seemed to be breeding, sitting under everything from a nice vase to a statue of Jesus on the cross. In the living room, which Étienne glanced in, he saw a small icon corner with the Mother Mary featured. She however led them to the kitchen. “Étienne…” she took him by the arm, and led him to a small bathroom. “You change in here.”

And then abruptly he was standing there in the bathroom, staring at the coveralls… Well…

He made the decision that he did not want to get his shirt dirty and took it off, along with his pants (paint he knew, had a way of getting on Everything). Staring at himself in the mirror, coveralls done up, arms bare, hat tentatively sitting upon his curls as if at any moment it would spring off his head, he found himself smiling. He looked like a hick, and he knew that he was going to get sunburnt… but at the moment… the idea of painting fences was a lot better to think about than the fact he would be on the airplane flying home at this very moment.

As he entered the kitchen once more, he saw Baba Chayka giving Ed a big hug. On the table was the basket, open revealing many jams and preserves, along with some apple crisps. The scene caused a small clenching sensation around Étienne’s middle. If Ed was taking this old lady under his wing… and this was the food that was being given… He thought of the food carefully squished into his bag. Was Calvin right? Did Ed still consider him to be… someone important? Despite everything?

“Edward, you are so naughty!” the tone was indulgent, as if he was the favourite grandchild, “You will not get away with this!”

“I rarely do,” Ed was giving her a soft smile as they pulled apart.

“Wowee, your friend is hot, no?” in a comic gesture she fanned herself. “He looks good in the painting clothes.”

Laughing, Ed turned and looked towards Étienne, his gaze widening for a second, before he added, “Well, no matter his looks, so long as he can hold a paintbrush that’s where I’ll need him.”

“Where’s Calvin?” Étienne asked looking around. Outside he heard a lawnmower start up.

“He wants to cut the grass by the fences before we begin to paint.” Edward picked up the painting box, “But he has done around the fences by now, so we can start.” He frowned as if he was forgetting something, and then turned to his table and revealed a rather battered straw cowboy hat, and placed it on his head. “Let’s go.”

“You boys, I will be out with cold lemonade, you are so kind to do this for me.” Baba Chayka said.

“No problem,” once more Ed smiled at her, his next words coming out a little gruff, “You are always a pleasure to visit.”

Ed turned away and Étienne followed him out the front door towards the fence posts.

“So what is the plan?”

Putting the box down, Ed opened it, and took out a can of white paint. “She literally wants white picket fences… with a twist.”

“Twist?”

“She wants a flower design on her front gate, but that is after we resuscitate her sad looking fence.”

“Ah…” Étienne reached in and took a paintbrush. “How are we to do this?”

“Probably best if we stick together,” Ed said, his gaze seeming to move to Étienne’s bicep, before once more returning to his face, “So that way we can paint both sides of the fence at once?”

Before Étienne could even agree, Ed picked up one of the white paint cans and a large brush and walked through the gate. There was no reason to object to this plan, and Étienne took his can of paint and popped it open. Plus, he was rather enjoying the furtive glances Ed was shooting him between the fence posts when Étienne was pretending he was focusing really hard on painting it. The rhythm was soothing, the slap of the brush upon the wood almost like painting a canvas.

“So do you often paint her fences?” Étienne asked wanting to continue talking to Ed. There was so much he wanted to say to him, so many things he wanted to relate, but instead he talked about fences.

“No. We do yard work mostly, her kids live down in Calgary, so it’s difficult to come up.” Ed responded, his tongue poking out slightly as he jabbed his brush at a difficult part.

“Is it because of the guilt?” Étienne asked softly. He hadn’t meant to, but it had slipped out, the words blowing through the gap of the fence like spilled dandelion seeds.

Edward took a moment to finish painting the post, and then, he looked through the gap at Étienne, who was waiting for a reply.

“Partially. I mean, like you, I always wonder… About… well, our bodies to theirs, and if I could have been part of the problem. But the other aspect is, I genuinely like her. Plus each time I visit I manage to learn a new recipe. Feels like I am preserving the memories, with her food. Her stories. They are each a part of me, and I know one day she will be gone like so many others before her.” He paused as he moved onto the next picket, dipping his brush carefully into the white paint, then continued, “And perhaps, every now and then, I want to look back and think I made a positive difference in someone’s life.”

“You made a positive difference in mine.” God what was with his mouth today? Étienne thought as he bit his lip, he did not mean for that to come out.

“Aww, Et,” the tone was warm, and Étienne could almost feel the smile coming through the picket between them, “That’s real sweet. You really helped me out y’know. After… the 70’s. Don’t know where I’d be without you.”

Étienne was not sure how to respond, so he didn’t. Instead he moved onto the next picket, moving faster than Ed in his furious paint strokes. Perhaps this painting together thing had been a bad idea, he thought, heart thumping. Staying had been the wrong idea, talking to Edward like this… hurt.

Apparently Ed had not got the memo, his voice was dreamy, his eyes unfocused as he slowly painted his picket, “You really helped me out of a bad place, Étienne, I don’t know if I ever properly thanked you for that…” he dipped the brush into the paint and begun on the next picket, at this point he was two pickets behind Étienne. “Your friendship means a lot to me… I know I have been not perfect in keeping up my end of our friendship…but you still mean a lot to me. I don’t think that will ever change-”

Étienne cursed as his paintbrush fell out of his hand and splatted onto the jean coveralls.

“Et?” Ed’s gaze snapped back into focus, and he gazed through the space, “Are you alright?”

“J-just dropped my paintbrush,” Étienne said hating how tight his voice sounded. “Fine.”

“Right…” Ed frowned, but was thankfully silent, apparently sensing he may have said too much.

Five pickets later, Étienne was wishing he had continued to talk, the silence between them somehow worse than Ed saying words that shredded him apart. Finally, out of desperation, unable to bear the silence anymore, Étienne muttered, “You mean a lot to me too, Ed.”

“Pardon?”

Clearing his throat, Étienne looked up towards the curious gaze of the man. He licked his lips not sure if he should cover it up with words he hadn’t said, or actually repeat them. However he felt lost, and the words repeated, “You mean a lot to me, Ed.”

The slow smile that came as a response was worth it, and Étienne found himself smiling back to Ed. Somehow, something between them had changed.

The moment was broken however when loud swearing by the house caused them to look away from their fence painting. Calvin was standing on a ladder, gloved hand deep in an eaves trough, pulling black goop out into a bucket. Apparently he had also managed to pull out the dead body of a squirrel.

Ed had stood up to get a better view, and Étienne had followed suite, but more in order to stretch the kink out of his back.

“Loooordeee Calvin,” Ed shouted out, “When you said you’d make dinner tonight I didn’t think Well Seasoned Squirrel was on the menu!”

Calvin made a face at Ed and flung the dead carcass into the bucket, “Only if you cook it!”

Étienne caught Ed’s eye and for the second time in twenty-four hours, found himself succumbing to laughter. He had no recent memory of the past few years of laughing so much within twenty-four hours. The rest of the pickets seemed to fly by, especially when Calvin finally was released from basic maintenance to help them out. As they reached the front gate, the last picket painted, Ed looked over to Étienne.

“This is the twist.” He pulled out small tins of red, yellow, green, black and pink. “I got some basic stencils, but if you want, you can do without. I even have some flower and leaf shaped sponges I cut out beforehand.” He looked over to Calvin, “Since I know some of us aren’t as talented.”

“Hey now, I am an expert at horses, but flowers… I admire them from a distance.” Calvin responded with a fake hurt tone.

“Take the sponge, Calvin.”

“Fine dear,” he huffed, but he winked at Étienne to let him know everything was fine.

As they finished painting the fence, the front door opened, and they heard Baba Chayka call out to them that dinner was ready. She had made her appearance earlier with the promised cold lemonade which had acted like a tonic of inspiration.

Étienne had accidentally spilt some down his front, and when he looked to see if Ed had seen him, he had noticed that Ed had momentarily stopped drinking, looking at him… not with laughter but a hunger. His eyes seemed to be roving across his bare arms, to his chest and the wet lemonade which had quickly evaporated, until finally, they roved up to his face, Ed flushing and quickly looking away when he realized Étienne had watched the entire action. It had taken all of Étienne’s self restraint to focus upon his lemonade and finish drinking it instead of pouring it down his face, Ed was so goddam cute. He had known at that moment that staying longer was literally him signing his own death warrant. If he managed to get out of this situation alive, it would be a bloody miracle. He knew that at some point, each day he stayed any longer, the chances of Calvin McCall murdering him for macking on his sweet honey increased, because if Ed managed to get any cuter, well, Étienne was in a world of trouble. It wasn’t even the fact that he desperately wanted to fuck him, he just wanted to be around the other man, consume his smile like dew drops, listen to him talk about whatever inane subjects had crept up as they painted.

Étienne had decided not to use a stencil, letting inspiration take him into a detailed floral design, allowing some wild roses to appear as a tribute to where he was staying. Creatively he had mixed the red with the white to get the right shade of pink, the one provided not to his satisfaction. Calvin’s was a little less inspirational, but very neat, the flower shapes having been carefully detailed by Ed.

Entering the house, Baba Chayka had herded them into the bathroom, not letting them touch anything in her house until they had cleaned up. Fortunately, Ed and Calvin had managed to get minimal paint upon their clothing, where Étienne had managed to get paint even behind his ear.

“Hold on,” Calvin said, as he took a paper towel to Étienne’s ear, pulling close to him, “This paint sure is a pain to get off…”

“Mmhm.” Étienne responded, “Do you think she’ll let me have my clothes to change back into?”

“Right, I’ll get them,” Ed had said, exiting the bathroom. Moments later he appeared with Étienne’s shirt and pants, and once the paint had been removed from his ear they had abandoned him to change.

The dinner she had laid out was a feast, and Étienne, who that morning had thought he could never eat again, found himself spooning a second helping of scalloped potatoes next to his pierogis. Baba Chayka had insisted that Ed take a large basket of her own goodies home, and after that…The evening passed by in a whirl, the food making him sleepy, and as Étienne found himself once more in the guest bed, not sure exactly how he had gotten there, he found himself passing out from the hard work and food.

He didn’t notice how Ed took the extra moment to lean on the door frame, watching him sleep, nor did he notice Calvin peeking in, and the two of them sharing a small smile between them.

It was as they were climbing the stairs to the second floor to their bedroom, Calvin a few steps ahead of Edward, that finally Ed asked, “Why did you lie?”

“Mm?” Calvin paused and glanced over his shoulder, “What do you mean?”

“About… why you got revenge on Samuel? It wasn’t about the gas was it, not really.”

“Eh, it was a partial truth,” Calvin shrugged and began to continue the climb, “Ed, I don’t think Étienne would benefit any from knowing the rest.”

“He might you know,” Ed responded quietly.

Reaching the landing Calvin rolled his eyes, “Let’s go to bed. It’s not worth disagreeing over.”

Giving him a hard look, Edward let out the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding, “Fine, you’re probably right.”

#quatschfic #pc: edmonton #pc: calgary #pc: montreal #projectcanada cities #food warning there is lots of food

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poliel · 3 years

Note

that "the egg" fic by bombcollar gave me the idea of lateish game snaktoothers finding an ACTUAL grumpus egg on the beach. it isnt any of theirs. it isnt from secret other grumps either. there's a new shipwreck in the bay and the grump from that ship binged on bugsnax and died and left their unlaid egg behind (the snaktoothers find it in time but are left worrying about that for quite a while since its premature and doesnt communicate at all until the final escape sequence which it is scared by)

Yo, I just read that fic this morning! I guess maybe you knew that though since I left a comment on it which might be why you’re bringing it up to me.

But anyway, in this situation, wouldn’t the skeleton of the Grumpus whose egg it is be left behind, especially if they didn’t lay the egg before dying. Like, what I’m saying is that they’d find the egg in the skeleton’s abdomen area and it would be really mysterious how this occurred. And honestly a bit creepy. Gramble would still undoubtedly volunteer to take care of the egg though and probably be very concerned about it the whole time.

#Anonymous

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wishingfornever · 6 years

Text

10/13/2017 – No Contact: Everyone is a Little Racist

Current time. 11:50. I just woke up from a series of naps. Two, so I guess that’s a series. But let me tell you about the dream I had.

I was living in this weird apartment complex. It began with me walking around and visiting with neighbors and these two Chinese ladies. One was older and one was a bit younger (a daughter). They made it clear that they were into some shady shit. They asked if they could use my car for this shady shit and I tell them no. After that, I went along and eventually came back to find an older version of an old roommate’s youngest son (long story there) laying on a bed inside the apartment. It’s important to note it was Halloween and he was upset about something. I offered the support as best I could but eventually left. I was very social and there was this cute girl I was hitting on.

The conversation with said cute girl ended in me remembering, I forgot something in my car. I go to it and it’s not my silver Dodge but an old, blue station wagon. Kind of a short one if compared to other station wagons. Hard to explain. Anyways, I discover the two Chinese ladies STEALING my car. And I say, “...um… can I help you?” They said yes and heavily implied that if I didn’t let them something bad would happen. I was like, “Okay, I guess I’ll call the police when you’re done...”

Except I couldn’t. They forced me into the station wagon and I sat in the back seat as they loaded stuff into the very back. I tried not to look directly at it but it looked like drugs disguised as Chinese food. I was hoping they’d drive by my apartment and the girl I was talking to would see I was being taken hostage, but no. They made their way out of there almost immediately.

Anyways, the older one drove and she spoke like Maria. Broken, barely spoken English. The younger spoke a bit more but was still really bad. We went through the mountains, where there was a lot of snow. The older one became nervous like she’s never driven in the snow before. Upon coming down from a summit, she parked on the side of a road in a TURNING lane and ran across to the other side for something. As she did, a truck lost control and almost hit her.

I don’t know what she did but when she came back I offered them both to drive for them. Because GEEZUZ!!! The dude who was in the truck came up wanting to trade information. The car wasn’t touched so I told him, “Listen, not my problem. Try to get information from her, the person you almost hit.” He complained because we parked in the parking lane but eventually started speaking to the older lady about it. They sorted everything out and we started driving again.

That’s all I remember. Wasn’t that dramatic of a dream, but I think it’d be an effective comedy. KIND OF RACIST, I know. Especially since I’ve been talking about Asians a lot lately. Normally, I don’t include race in my stories. For example, my old roommate’s youngest son? He’s half black, half Mexican. I didn’t include that at all. Most of my stories with blacks don’t mention their color. One of the girls I was hitting on a while back over Facebook? She was black. Why do I mention Asians when their race doesn’t matter?

I guess Asians sort of get overlooked. Don’t get me wrong, they are still targets for racism because EVERYONE is a little racist (myself included). However, they weren’t really targeted by All Lives Matters and people like that. Why would they be? The Asians I know tend to be on top of things. And they’re RIDICULOUSLY talented. Like… fucking hell, that’s their racism trait. Being good at most everything they do. Except driving, apparently.

I’m not sure that’s true, either. Unless they drive a Chevy. Now that I think about it, blacks and whites were the ones involved in all the car accidents I’ve seen in person. One case, I saw one get rear ended by this stoner dude. The stoner was white and they were a black couple. With the exception of that one waiter we had, I don’t really know too many Asians who have actually been in car accidents.

Doesn’t mean you’re a safe driver if you’ve never been in an accident, of course. Still, just something I’ve noticed. I think Mexicans are bad drivers. I look at ALL my cousins as references. Some of them have been in car accidents, too! Thing is, they were in car accidents in… Mexico. So, both sides were Mexican. Drivers in Mexico are just… crazy.

Whatever. Now, what am I going to do. Currently 12:15. I wanted to do something before the naps but I fell asleep watching Game Grumps. Probably food. I grabbed a dragon fruit for Adela to try but she doesn’t want to try it. She has to open up sometime. >:C

I didn’t do my sets yesterday or the day before. I’ll do it today, though. I MIGHT cook myself some eggs. Or I might make a sandwich… an egg sandwich? I don’t know. I’m hungry. I want food. But what food? I don’t want sweet, food. I have enough fruit for it, to be sure. I guess I’ll make myself something with peas, actually. That’s not a bad idea. Then I’ll finish watching the video I fell asleep on from about where I fell asleep. And I’ll have a fruit. Which fruit? ANY FRUIT!!!

Anyways, I’ll be on later. Maybe. I have an update unfortunately. I hate updates… Bah, it’ll be fine. Later.

I don’t think I’m going to be a vegetarian much longer. I’d. Fucking. MURDER. For a god damn burger right now. x.x Like… I think sometime next year I’ll get a burger from Whataburger. Only in a few months. I’ll try to hold out as long as possible… but no promises. Might do what you do. Claim to be vegetarian but still eat meat. ;)

Kidding. Sort of. I MIGHT start eating fish. Then turkey. And eventually work my way back into beef and ham. I just ate. Had a peach and, as opposed to everything in the god damn HEB, it wasn’t on the verge of rotting. Seriously, they need to work on their god damn stocking. Like, only one avocado was edible last time I was there. Disgusting.

Whatever. If you want them to be stocked, go early. I’m going to have the other peach soon. I feel SO hungry. x.x

Eh… The food I got was kind of subpar. I have no onions, tomatoes, or honey mustard. Didn’t feel like cooking some eggs so I basically made a cheese sandwich with spinach. Unfortunately, that proved to be not as good as it sounds. The swiss cheese melted over the spinach and it SEEMED like it’d taste good. So good. The best even. Thing is, the spinach sort of canceled out the savory swiss. It felt… empty. And I grabbed a peach too. That peach was ripe, but it was… eh. Not as good as the other. Just disappointing. Filling? Not really. I have some spinach left but I’m saving that for an egg sandwich tomorrow. I have ketchup and my three spices. Seasoned salt, black pepper, and garlic powder. Put that shit in anything you cook and it’ll be grand. Remember the mashed potatoes? I sometimes put onions in it but you LOVED it. We should have mashed potatoes if you come out.

Ah, I just remembered. It’s not seasoned salt I have but that pink Himalayan salt. It’s… alright, but I have to twist the thing and that makes it harder to guesstimate the amount. Oh, guesstimate is a word apparently. More proof that English is fucking dumb.

Anyways, put that in the eggs, add ketchup, and I’ll have a GREAT breakfast.

You know, I got the eggs for three reasons. Firstly, it’s not meat. Second, I saw a picture where you cooked me breakfast. I posted it on Facebook and titled it the perfect breakfast. It was eggs and pop tarts. People gave me crap because it’s so simple and I said it wasn’t the food but the who. You made that breakfast perfect. Finally, I want to try some of those egg rituals my witch friend suggested. Turns out, the chants DON’T have to be religious to work. So I could say, “No Pasaran” or even “I have nothing to lose but my chains” or whatever and it’d still work. That’s some good news.

As for disposing, if it’s a protection spell, we bury it. If it’s detecting negative energy, we pour it in a river and be on our way. I THINK Adela has a septic tank. I’m not sure about the sewers in Houston. So, we COULD flush it but until we know for sure, I’m not doing that with the eggs.

Apparently, you can also use potatoes for spells. Magic is weird. If this had happened a few months ago, then I would have been like, “Lol, magic is dumb and you’re dumb.” However, I feel there is more to it than that now. I’ve learned a lot from her. Been taking notes. I might use it for writing. I probably won’t, unfortunately. I have so much planned but so little time. :c

Eh… I want a burger. So badly. I want to make an egg sandwich but… I won’t. Ah, well. Current supply in the fridge and pantry for ME to eat (Adela’s food is off limits) consists of the dragon fruit, three apples, a bottle of ketchup, almond milk, a single and final serving of spinach, half a loaf of bread, a can of peas and carrots, a can of corn, various cheeses, and 16 eggs. We’ll go shopping sometime on the weekend. I’ll be fine.

The rough estimate for my food is 60-80 dollars. Per week, that would be 240-320 dollars a month. Not including rent, I estimate my cost of living is about 800 dollars per month. That means if I got a part time job at Starbucks, I should be fine. Might be saving. After this next week, I’ll apply for other jobs. However, I’ll actually go in when Adela takes Max to the groomers. I won’t have to try to get him in a cage or anything. Today, I’ll call. Hopefully at about 11 and let them know what’s up. I’ll talk to the manager and introduce myself. Let them know that I’m interested in a job there.

I’ll get a job. Then I’ll brag about it. It’ll be great. Oh, and I could perhaps save money because I won’t have to eat here. Probably won’t eat out that much. I don’t know. If it’s like Dunkin, I’ll be fine unless they make me work mornings. I SUCK at mornings.

When I worked nights at Dunkin (better than mornings) I usually slept when I got back. Mornings? I had to wake up immediately. I had the sunrise to wake me up. Problem is, I worked BEFORE sunrise and my alarm was unreliable.

Honestly… I loved working at Dunkin. It had it’s moments where it sucked, but it was pretty fun. They gave me free coffee and tea. I hope they do that at Starbucks too. Maybe discounted food. Burgers. Drool

I mean… whatever.

I just realized that the money you’re using to buy pot? You got that from selling your super prized computer. Oof. You sold everything for all of this. In the end? At least you’re a little high.

Sarcasm. I’m suddenly more concerned. Please tell me you’ll stop spending on such trivial bullshit. Fucking pot is not worth the money. :/ Whatever. You won’t tell me that, even if you were talking to me. You’re stubborn. You get told to do one thing and you’ll do the opposite. Human nature… don’t know why. My dad used to have this small outhouse thing that was assembled by all these parts and had a mouse trap in it. The mouse trap connected to the door. When you opened th door to this little outhouse, it’d explode. He LOVED it. He put a little sign on front that said, “Don’t Open” because he understood people don’t listen to signs. He got so many people with that fucking door. I want one. I think I can find one on the internet.

I’ll call my dad tomorrow too, maybe. I really should. Anyways, I’m going to bed. Talk to you when I wake up. Alarm set for 10am. Going to call Starbucks at 11. ;)

Before I go! I asked my witch friend what the deal with brooms are. Apparently, they can clean up negative energy! And brooms you make yourself has a connection and cleans energy better or something. And it can determine people visiting and you put it upside down, it’ll prevent people from coming and if they do come then they’ll leave sooner. And you can bless your vacuum to clean up negative energies. Just gotta empty it and take out the garbage IMMEDIATELY. And apparently you can bless ROOMBA!!! ROOMBA CAN COLLECT NEGATIVE ENERGY!!! OMFG ROOMBA, YOU MAGNIFICENT BASTARD!!! SAVE THIS HOUSE OF OURS!!!

Sorry. Sleeping now. Later.

Current time is seven in the morning… I’m so restless. I hate it. I think any optimism and positivity is fading. I might return to my grumpy annoyed self, which is a shame. Computer is mandatory restarting today. I FUCKING hate that. I have to save EVERYTHING. For what? What update could I possibly need?

My dream was nice last night. Very… arousing. You were in it of course. It ended with us skinny dipping. In my dreams, you’re always so affectionate. I miss that. :/

Anyways… I realized that you blocking me wasn’t to start any drama. You probably felt I was trying to show you how good everything was here. Try and convince you somehow. I was posting a lot of pictures of Max. Still do, mind you, but you don’t need that reminder. You felt that I was trying to communicate with you through Facebook. Not my intention. Otherwise, I’d have to go back and change no contact days to limited contact.

Surprised you noticed. Alternatively, you could have just turned off my posts so you didn’t have to see them. Idea probably didn’t occur to you. Or maybe you wanted to send a message. Unfortunately, that message would be open to interpretation. If you read this, you’ll see I didn’t get the memo. At least, probably not the one you mentioned.

I didn’t call Starbucks today. Woke up too late. I’ll stay up as long as possible and go to bed early. Try and reset my schedule as best as possible. I need to do this before Max is taken to the groomers. I’ll get it figured out. So tired though.

I need to message Shane. See if he’s alright. Might be the food he’s been eating. :/

He’s okay. Whatever he had passed. I’m glad to hear. Could have been something far worse. However, I still believe he should go to the doctor’s but I won’t push it. If I were inflicted with something similar and it went away, I wouldn’t want to go to the doctor’s either. Literally, fuck American healthcare. Nothing but bad times. -,-

So… It’s currently 6:20. I bought a girl some food. She’s the sort who normally says no. I expected her to say no. She said yes. So, I ordered her a pizza. She is one of the girls I’ve been flirting with.

The thought crossed my head that “What if she’s using me?” but then I came to the conclusion that, again, she’ not the type who’d say yes normally. She’s pretty introverted. Spends most her days working and going to class. If I go back to visit, I’ll have to stop by and say hi to her in person. There are some stories with her. I’ll have to share them sometime with you.

#breakup #slice of l #frustration #depression #getting over it #moving on #journal #a year ago today

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hey-i-wrote-a-story · 7 years

Text

Chapter 11 The Meeting

It was dark by the time the foursome arrived at the designated meeting spot. Freddie parked the car and turned off the cracked and yellowing headlights. He let out a long breath of exasperation.

“We’re late”, Erin grumped, which everyone already knew.

“It’s not my fault”, Freddie protested.

“Who was the one driving?”, Erin said. “I thought your phone had GPS.”

“We all do, I think”, Aadesh said. “But mine must be on the fritz or something. It’s not working right.”

“Mine either”, Freddie explained. “It’s like it would get us partway and then send us off in a different direction or just blank out entirely. Seriously, it’s like this place didn’t want to be found.” Neither Freddie nor any of his friends knew that the meeting spot had been chosen for that very reason. It was near the location of the Nemeton, a massive tree stump and magical nexus consecrated ages ago by druid priests. It was difficult, often impossible, to find without some type of supernatural power. The choice of location was a test to see if any of the four had such power.

“If it hadn’t been for Kaitlyn’s suggestions--”

“I’m getting a weird vibe from this place”, Kaitlyn added, interrupting.

“Well, maybe we’re over some kind of ley lines or near some power lines or something. Whatever the deal is, we’re here and we just deal.”

“It’s not like we’re not used to dealing with weird creepy stuff”, Aadesh said.

Erin hopped out of the car and started looking around for a sign of someone else approaching, but saw nothing.

“Why do you suppose he asked us to come all the way out here?”, Aadesh wondered aloud. “Why not just have us come back to the house?”

“Would you want somebody you don’t trust romping around your living room?”, Kaitlyn asked. The two boys looked sheepish, realizing she was right.

“I knew it”, Erin said. “I knew it! We took too damn long to find this place—assuming we’re even in the right place—and he got tired of waiting and left.” She started fuming. “He thought we chickened out at the idea of meeting him and telling him the truth. Ergo, we’re a bunch of liars who can’t be trusted that they’ll want nothing to do with!”

“We did lie, Erin”, Kaitlyn pointed out. “We’ve already got that against us.”

“We didn’t lie”, Erin protested. “Not exactly. We just didn’t tell them everything that was true right up front. We do that next, or we would have, given the chance.” She looked around again. More trees, dense woods, the road they came down to get here. Only a plethora of dead leaves covering the ground, rustling quietly in the slight breeze. There was really nothing to see in any direction other than what seemed like the perfect setting for a horror movie. She resisted the urge to shiver, despite the warm temperature. “Stiles took off thinking we’re cowards and God only knows where he is now.”

“I’ve been here for over half an hour.”

The group spun to see Stiles standing there (where had he come from??) not a dozen feet away. “And yeah, you’re late.”

His appearance took everyone off guard. Aadesh jumped, Kaitlyn nearly gasped, and Freddie, in a fit of confused panic, turned and ran straight into the door of his pickup truck. There was a dull KTUNK! And he fell backwards into a cluster of dead leaves.

Nobody moved. They didn’t even look down to check on Freddie, who lay flat on his back. Stiles walked up to them and peered down at the fallen ginger boy. Freddie looked up, seeing his hero staring down at him, his face upside-down from that angle.

“Hey, Stiles. Good to see you. Had a heck of a time finding this place.”

Stiles scrunched his brow. “And I actually thought you people might pose a threat.” He shook his head and stepped away.

Freddie scrambled to his feet, crunchy leaves clinging to his clothes. He looked around and asked, “How did you get here? You just showed up out of nowher—“

“My jeep’s right over there.” Stiles jerked a thumb over his shoulder, indicating a spot somewhere behind him. “Has been the whole time.”

Freddie craned his neck. “Where? I don’t see—“

A pair of gleaming blue eyes lit up from inside the jeep, staring out at the quartet of strangers. That time, everyone started a bit. They could then make out portions of the jeep, parked in the shadows several yards away. There was a slight creak of metal as the door of the jeep opened and out stepped Malia, her were-coyote eyes agleam and her expression stern.

“Can you see it now?”, Stiles asked.

All four friends could feel the hair rise on the back of their necks.

“Um, n-now that we know where to look”, Aadesh answered.

“Look…”, Erin began cautiously. “I think there’s some mistake about why we’re here.”

“So why don’t you tell us.” This voice came from behind them. They spun around to see another pair of glowing eyes, these bright yellow, hovering in the shadows behind them. Liam emerged from the dense woods, wolfen eyes peering right through the newcomers, his expression a grin devoid of all humor. He rested his arms on the rim of the pickup bed and said, “Feel free to clear the whole thing up.”

Erin stepped back, but realized that if she continued backing up, she’d bump into Stiles as well as Malia, who was now standing beside him.

Kaitlyn tried to say something, but no words came out of her mouth. Then a scraping sound caught everyone’s attention. The only ones who didn’t turn toward the sound was Stiles, Malia, and Liam. The other four watched intently as Kira approached, where she had come from yet another uncomfortable mystery. Her sword was out, and with her hand gripping the hilt, she dragged the blade behind her, the very tip of it scraping along the ground. The sound it made was more than just metal on earth. There was something eerie about it, unnerving. It was clear to the four teens that the blade was far from normal, as was the young woman who held it.

The four gathered together in a tight huddle at the rear of Freddie’s pickup truck. They instinctively felt safer together, whether or not that was actually the case. They looked at each other, uncertain of who should speak first, or what they should say. Erin swallowed hard and mustered enough nerve to say, “We never wanted to upset any of you, honestly.”

“Too late”, Malia said flatly. She nodded to something behind the four kids and they turned to see what it was. They immediately wished they hadn’t.

A pair of red eyes, glowing brighter than the previous two, appeared behind them. Scott McCall stepped out of the shadows, the canopy of branches above him still casting dark patches over his face and torso, making him look slightly unreal and monstrous. “I think it’s time for a long talk where we ask the questions”, he said, his voice a bit deeper than it usually was. “And you can start with explaining this.” Scott held out the list of archetypes and Erin felt her blood freeze. Aadesh, Freddie and Kaitlyn stared at it wide-eyed, as if they’d never seen it before. Indeed they hadn’t.

“The good news is”, said Lydia, suddenly there beside Stiles, “that nobody dies. At least not that I can tell. At least not yet.”

Erin absently fingered the inside of her coat. Secured there were a few small cloth bags, each tied with a rust-colored cord. The two nearest to her reach were small, no larger than an egg, and fit easily into her palm. One was marked with a rough drawing of a wolf’s head. The other, with a mountain peak, entirely black. Erin fingered the tiny bags, and felt her heart beat faster even as she hoped she wouldn’t have to use either of them.

“It’s, ah…it’s a list of archetypes”, Erin said. “Character descriptions, individual titles.”

“We already knew that”, Lydia said back. “Keep going.” Erin withered under Lydia’s gaze. There was something about making eye contact with the strawberry blond that she didn’t like.

Aadesh gestured to Scott that he’d like to see the paper, his arm extended. Scott gave it to him. Aadesh looked it over, and even in the dim light, he could make out exactly what it said. “Geez, you carry it around with you? Why do you even have it written down?” He was as surprised by the list as Scott’s pack was.

“I’ve told you guys”, Erin said, “I like the—“

“—tactile sensation of pen and paper”, Kaitlyn finished her sentence.

Freddie dropped his head into both hands. “Gaah...how many times are we going to hear that?”

Lydia and Malia glanced at one another quickly. What was all this, then?

Stiles snapped his fingers rapidly. “Yo! No side conversations or distractions, children. What’s up with the list?”

“That can wait”, Scott interrupted. “First and most important, how did you even know about us?” The four friends stared back at him blankly. “Now would be your turn to talk”, he prompted.

The four looked at one another and recognized the time for subterfuge was long past. This would be a good time to start telling the truth. Erin looked at Scott and spoke first.

“We…learned about a unique pack in Light-, in Beacon Hills. This pack was unlike any other. It wasn’t just an Alpha werewolf and a few Betas. This one was comprised of unique supernaturals, no two exactly alike.” She looked the members of Scott’s pack over and just let the words come. “You weren’t monsters or freaks. You were protectors, guardians. Of each other and everyone around you.”

Scott listened intently to her heartbeat. Erin was nervous and somewhat high-strung, but she wasn’t lying. Her heart was going a bit faster than it normally would, but there were no jumps or skips to indicate any falsehood. Scott looked to Malia. It was clear from her expression that she was doing the same check as Scott. She returned his gaze and nodded. Same here. She’s telling the truth.

“The more we knew about you, the more we looked up to you”, Erin admitted. “You grew beyond urban legend or hearsay…you, well…”

“You became our idols”, Aadesh said, completing her thought.

“Us?”, Lydia asked. In her mind, she and her friends may have power, but with all they had faced, they had also been very, very lucky. For the most part, in any case. They were not movie or TV show champions who went out looking for trouble, eager to unearth wrongs to right. Mostly the trouble came to them, whether they wanted it to or not.

“Oh God, yes”, Freddie gushed. Erin held up a hand to quiet him. Hold on, I’ll take it from here. Aadesh ushered his best friend back a step and nodded to her. Okay, go on.

“You showed us all this excitement, this sense of purpose, a higher calling to be better people.”

Stiles cut in. “Why do you keep talking about us as if we have a weekly YouTube channel? How are you getting enough information to come to these conclusions? Hearsay isn’t going to give you that.”

“It wasn’t just you”, Erin said, speaking faster in hopes of dodging Stiles’ question. “It was what you were facing, what you were up against, time after time. You always seemed grossly outmatched, and yet every time, every single time, you won. It became all we ever talked about.”

Stiles was about to interrupt again, getting back to the how, but Scott sensed a more pressing question that needed asking.

“But it didn’t stop there, did it?”, Scott prodded. “Just talking.”

Erin lowered her head slightly. “No.”

“We wanted more”, Kaitlyn told them.

“More what?”, Liam asked, confused.

Nobody answered that question. Scott was going to push when Lydia answered for them. “More of the supernatural. More than just hearing about everything second-hand. You wanted a taste of it up close and personal. Am I right?”

“We…dabbled in the supernatural”, Erin admitted. Her three friends looked very uncomfortable.

“Uh-huh”, Lydia nodded. “I don’t suppose you met with such great success that you sought us out to brag about it.”

“Not exactly”, Erin answered.

“There’s a monster after us”, Aadesh said.

“Just what kind of dabbling did you do?!”, Malia snapped.

Erin took over the narrative again. “This monster that’s after us is far more than we can handle alone. But for Scott McCall’s pack…”

“And the pieces begin to fall into place”, Stiles observed. “You discover something new, get all caught up in it, and you want someone else to clean up your mess. That about sum it up?”

“I know you can do it”, Erin said, as if what they needed was encouragement rather than explanations. “Supernatural creatures, despicable people, ancient demons--You’ve faced down all kinds of threats, to yourselves, and your entire community, and you’re undefeated.”

“If anybody can stop this thing—“, Aadesh began.

“So you wanted ringside seats to us taking on the next big threat”, Malia spat, “which you so conveniently provided.”

“No!”, Aadesh cried. “It’s not like that!”

“We just really need help”, Erin said. “The kind you can’t get by dialing 911.”

“Maybe so”, Scott said. “But that still doesn’t explain this.” He snatched the paper with the list of archetypes from Aadesh’s hand and held it up for the four friends to see.

Erin began speaking rapidly, as if she were rattling off a memorized list of place names and corresponding events for a history test. “We all agreed that we wanted to meet you one day anyway. So when we found this monster, or more like it found us, we came up with the plan to come here, meet you, become friends, present ourselves as people your pack would want to help—“

“But the wheels came off when everyone wound up a Scott’s house at the same time”, Kaitlyn said.

Scott jabbed the paper with his finger. “You’re still not telling me about this. I already know what you’re saying. How did you know enough about us to write this list??”

“This is descriptive enough to be inside information”, Stiles stressed.

“We told you”, Erin said, sounding exasperated, “we learned about your pack. After that, we—“

“Where’d you learn about us?”, Scott pressed. “And how?”

The four looked at each other nervously. They looked like a group trying desperately to hang on to one last secret. A secret they were loath to give up.

“I think what my friend is trying to say”, Stiles said, “Is who sent you?”

Everyone froze at that question. Whether it was spot-on or totally off the mark, it had the same effect on the four friends. They had no idea what to say. This could not be going worse for them.

“Whuh…why would we…no one”, Erin stammered. “Nobody sent us. We’re on our own! That’s why we need you.”

“And we have only your word on that. We come to your rescue to save you from this entirely hypothetical monsterie only to stumble headlong into a trap.”

Freddie looked horrified at the idea. “No…we’d never…”

“Then we find ourselves surrounded by some crazy distant relative who should be dead but instead is now a scary were-thing, or one of us gets possessed by some gazillion-year-old demon, or who knows what the hell, and—whoopsie!—guess we should have shown a little more scrutiny before diving headlong into this latest escapade.”

“Stiles, take it easy.” Scott did not like seeing his friend getting so worked up. He knew it was out of fear for his friends rather than any sense of self-righteous rage.

Stiles took a deep breath and began again, considerably more composed. “You said you dabbled in the occult, the supernatural.” They all nodded. “How? In what way exactly did you do your dabbling?”

“It’s…a little complicated”, Erin offered.

“Okay, then”, Stiles conceded. “Simpler question. Why? Why do it at all? It can’t have been just because you wanted some facetime with the supernatural. You could have done that just by coming here. But you didn’t come here until after this alleged thing you did, which you won’t even describe.”

The four friends had nowhere to go with that. No answers were coming to mind that wouldn’t make them sound like the schemers they were being painted to be. They hadn’t thought this all the way through and Stiles was already too far ahead of him. None of them could match his skill at deductive reasoning. They were sunk. Not knowing what to say, they said nothing.

“The silence is deafening, guys”, Stiles stated. “There’s something you’re not telling us, something big, and lies of omission are still lies.”

The four teens looked to the others standing around them. Lydia, Kira, Malia, Scott, even the young Liam. None of their expressions offered any kind of support or willingness to listen further. Stiles held up his hands as if to say, ‘Well that’s that, then’, and he turned and began to walk away. The others followed suit, each one of Scott’s pack moving away from the old pickup truck, and back to their respective vehicles. They were done here. If there was any way to salvage the situation, it had to be now. Aadesh called out to them.

“WAIT!”

Scott’s pack stopped and half-turned around. What now?

“We aren’t lying about the monster”, Aadesh assured them. “We swear.”

“Uh-huh”, Stiles said, thoroughly unconvinced. “What kind of monster?”

Aadesh looked nervous. “What do you mean, what kind of—“

“There are all kinds of different monsters”, Lydia pointed out. “Trust us, we know.”

Stiles looked Aadesh square in the eyes. “Was it a wendigo? A werewolf? Kanima?”

Freddie looked baffled. “What’s a kanima?”

Aadesh swatted him on the arm and shot him an angry look.

“Okay, it was nice meeting you”, Stiles said, turning away. “Have a safe trip back to wherever it was you came from, stalker-groupies.”

“You guys!”, Erin cried desperately. “This is serious! We genuinely need your help.” It was the first time since Stiles had picked her up in his jeep that she seemed vulnerable.

“Can you at least describe this monster?”, Scott asked.

Stiles frowned at him. “Scott, don’t encourage them. It’s pretty obvious they made it all up—“

“It was orange”, Kaitlyn said.

For a second, everyone was quiet. No one was expecting an answer, much less one so specific. So they held their tongues. Things were very still, until Stiles spoke.

“Okay. So was it like a cheese puff orange or hazard cone orange?”

“It was more orange like lava”, Freddie offered.

“Lava is red”, Lydia stated.

“Not when it’s really, super-duper hot”, Freddie countered.

“So we’ve got a scary hot lava monster to deal with, then?”, Kira asked no one in particular.

“What else did it look like?”, Scott inquired. “Was it big, was it human-sized, could it speak?”

“Come on already!”, Stiles said. “With all they’ve given us to go on, it sounds like we’re supposed to be hunting a giant creamsicle.” He turned back to the new kids. “Which would be more plausible than what they’re saying.”

Aadesh started talking, rapidly. He was not going to let go of this foothold they had on the conversation, regardless how tenuous. Scott and his pack needed to know they were sincere. “It was big, bigger than a person”, he started. “Large head, neck was pretty wide, thick. It looked as if it could extend its neck to a longer length, even. But I can’t be sure.” He had begun to fidget. “It had claws. Nasty, long, and sharp. And a tail. Strong, thick like a crocodile’s, but much longer. The main portion of its body was easily twelve feet tall. I’d say bigger.”

“The main part?”, Scott asked. “Above the tail, you mean?”

“It has wings”, Aadesh answered. “Kind of like a bat. Leathery, rough. They looked strong.”

“Wings”, Stiles considered. “Delightful.”

“How big was its wingspan?”, Scott asked.

Aadesh spread out his arms as he thought. “Wide. Huge. Maybe two dozen feet, end to end.”

“At least”, Freddie added.

“It sounds like you’re describing a pterodactyl”, Kira observed.

“No, it’s not like that”, Kaitlyn interjected. “It didn’t look…I don’t know, prehistoric.”

“Didn’t look as old as a dinosaur then?”, Scott ventured.

“No”, Kaitlyn answered quickly. “It looked older. Ancient. Like it had been around forever.”

The group was very quiet for a moment. The more the new kids described their monster, the less Scott and his pack liked it. It was Malia who broke the silence.

“I’m still not ready to believe any of this. Have we ever heard of a creature that even remotely fits this description? Any of us?”

The newcomers all looked ready to defend their claim, but Scott beat them to it. “Most of the things we’ve encountered we didn’t know anything about or had even heard of until they first showed up.”

“It’s true”, Lydia agreed.

“So lack of familiarity isn’t proof that this thing doesn’t exist”, Scott said.

“But wouldn’t it be nice, though?”, Stiles muttered, just loud enough for everyone to hear.

“I think the best thing for us to do now--”, Scott began, but that was as far as he got with his suggestion. He suddenly stood very still. Everyone looked to him.

“What?”, Stiles asked.

Scott held up a finger. Hold it a minute. He tilted his head slightly and asked, “Do you hear that?” No one responded. He looked at Liam.

Liam paused, craning his neck slightly. Then his eyes widened. “Yeah, I do hear it. What is that?”

“I hear it too”, Malia said. She listened intently, searching for the right words. “Like someone slowly shaking out a big sheet or blanket.”

“More like the wind in a tall sail”, Liam added. If it were possible for a fluttering sail to sound menacing, that was how this sounded.

“Whatever it is, it’s getting closer”, Scott warned.

“Where is it coming from?”, Kira asked. “Which direction is—oh, I hear it, too.”

“Can we decide what to do before those of us without super-hearing pick up on it, please?”, Stiles pleaded.

“Everyone get to the shadows”, Scott said. “And stay quiet!”

They did. And they were.

There was only a moment of tense silence before the sound mentioned before could be heard by everyone. It was no longer reaching them from a distance. Now it was directly above. A huge shadow darted back and forth along the ground past the trees where everyone hid. Slowly, cautious not to make any noise, all eyes looked up.

Perhaps one hundred feet above them, the monster circled. It was not quite as the newcomers described. It was much worse. The wingspan was easily two dozen feet, possibly more. It was hard to tell as the leathery appendages beat effortlessly against the wind, guiding the creature back and forth as it appeared to scan the area. Its coloring was primarily orange, but an odd hue, ranging from tangerine to rust. Light shifted from within the monster, as jolts of what looked like lightning shot along its wings, across its torso, and down its tail. It curled and uncurled its sharp talons repeatedly, as if eager to grab onto or snatch up something it could not yet see. A godawful rumble grew in its throat and a low shriek emitted from between its fangs. The sound was one more of frustration than rage, but the pitch was still enough to hurt the ears of the two werewolves below. Malia fared no better, as she pressed her hands over her ears to block the sound.

The small bit of movement may have been enough to get the monster’s attention, because as it was drifting away, it made a sharp turn back for a second look. It looked down, sparks and electrical charges lancing back and forth between its eyes, scanning the ground. The whole group held its breath. The monster hovered, wings beating stronger against the evening air as it held itself aloft. It craned its neck to the left, then to the right. It listened intently. It heard nothing. With an angry huff, spitting a ball of lightning into the air, the monster turned around and, with just two more flaps of its wings, disappeared into the sky faster than the frightened onlookers could follow.

Everyone was silent. Some had even stopped breathing. When that moment had passed, Scott and Stiles began speaking, still keeping their eyes on the sky.

“If I could amend my previous statements somewhat”, Stiles began, his voice a bit shaky.

Scott placed a comforting hand on his best friend’s shoulder and turned to the rest of the group. “Is everyone alright?” Although the monster never descended, Scott knew there were other ways to be hurt. He was already astonished that Stiles had not fainted. He wasn’t sure about the fortitude of the four newcomers.

“We seem to be fine”, Malia said, the first one to her feet. She glanced at Aadesh, and pointing said, “Although that one peed a little.”

“Did not”, Aadesh muttered low, placing both hands over his crotch.

Lydia was helping Erin and Kaitlyn up as she asked, “What was that thing?”

“It’s not what we—“, Kaitlyn started, but Erin cut her off.

“We really don’t know. Other than big and mean and scary, we have no idea. We just know it seems really interested in us.”

Kira looked at Kaitlyn. “You were just about to say something. What were you going to say?”

Erin shot Kaitlyn a warning glance. Kaitlyn cleared her throat and said, “It’s just, it’s not…it’s not what we expected when we wanted to explore the supernatural.”

“Like not at all”, Freddie added.

Liam stood behind Freddie, as frightened as any of them but working hard not to show it. “So we know you were telling the truth, at least.”

At least part of it, Stiles thought.

Aadesh was still visibly shaken. His legs were trembling as he said, “I wish that this time it really was just a story!”

“A story?”, Lydia asked. “What do you mean?”

“The questions are going to have to wait”, Scott said. “We can’t stay here.” Stiles stood beside him.

“Scott, we need someplace safe. As much as we can be from that Mega Charizard.”

“You thinking what I’m thinking, then?”

“Sheriff’s station”, Stiles said.

“Right. You get everybody there, quick as you can. Kira and I will go get Derek. Even if he doesn’t know what that thing is, and I hope he does, we may need the big guns.”

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