#and i hope i get to do more monologues soon so i can put the other ideas mentioned here (as well as some i haven't) out into the world

[magentagalaxies]

in an unexpected turn of events i'm having to edit down the content in my aubrey monologues so that i can actually fit all four of them in my final performance for my standup class and on the one hand it sucks bc i really love some of the jokes i have to cut but on the other hand someday i'll be able to write more monologues and possibly expand upon this cut material so i can get a whole monologue on a topic that would've just been an aside

#the actual standups in my class who have only ever done a tight five having to stretch their new material to fit the 20 minute final #vs me‚ an extremely extra fag who's used to writing full-length scripts‚ realizing the 3 monologues i've timed already add up to 20 min #and i'm working on a fourth one that works better as an opener than any of the existing pieces so it has to get in #(it'll be short tho i'm making sure of it. it's just like ''here's some material about aubrey's relationship to zir mom!'') #(then immediate segue into the uncle reg bit) #got the catcalling monologue down to 5 minutes and 30 seconds when the first draft was nine minutes #(tbh i'm fine with most of those cuts i think they were mostly filler) #(there's a bit about androgyny that i liked that i cut but tbh it doesn't work as just one paragraph it needs more nuance) #the uncle reg monologue is having the ''dumped at the pride parade'' thing trimmed down which is funny bc that was the original premise #tbh i could probably stretch my toronto pride material ft. uncle reg to a full 20 minutes bc the first stream of consciousness was so long #i wrote it right after i myself got back from toronto pride and tbh i actually wrote it as the outline for a sitcom episode #so the monologue version is very reduced down bc there were so many details that didn't fit in #and i'm realizing the material about the person who dumped aubrey should be its own monologue that i'll do another time #and maybe even add in the rest of the sitcom-style story at some point bc tbh that's some of my favorite aubrey material i've come up with #and the cishetman monologue is getting the intro part about facetime trimmed a bit bc it meanders #and the ''sugar and spice and everything nice'' joke is being cut even tho i like it bc i actually have a ton more material in my notebook #that's just me riffing on how weird those expressions are. and the material isn't polished but i could make it something later #the song isn't being trimmed bc it has a very specific run time and imo is the strongest. so that's my closer #anyway thank you to everyone reading my aubrey updates i'll be sure to post the final 20-minute-special on youtube #and i hope i get to do more monologues soon so i can put the other ideas mentioned here (as well as some i haven't) out into the world

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

In The Low Lamp Light

17/12: Reassurance & Car Sex - Billy Washington Word Count: 1.5k~ | Warnings: mild angst, p in v sex, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), praise

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

She sighs as she locks up, huffing her coat on in the chill of the late evening. She's able to see her breath as she yawns, tapping her foot as she waits for the tell-tale sound of the squeaky shift from fourth gear to third. The inevitable sound of Billy's car as he comes to pick her up.

She smooths her hands over her cold and aching legs, needing nothing more right now than to just curl up on the sofa under a blanket and sleep like she's dead.

Billy's car screeches down the road, amber headlights aglow, right on time as usual.

It doesn't take a genius. She can tell right away when he pulls up and doesn't even look in her direction that he's got a mard on.

It's something that used to bother her. But now, after knowing and being with him for so long, she knows all the little tells, all his mannerisms.

He won't be able to keep quiet about what he's thinking for long when confronted with silence.

Billy rests his head on his fist as it leans against the window, keeping the car running as she gets in, preparing herself for yet another monologue. She complains in her head, but really, she'd rather he tell her than just keep it in.

He's wearing his dark green jacket over a jumper, and she can see as soon as she shuts the door how his knee is bouncing.

“Good day at work?” he asks, dispassionately.

She presses her lips together giving him a smile, nodding, like she knows something is wrong.

“Alright, ta,” she replies, knowing what she's about to say next might start him off, “you?”

He simply puts the car in gear and drives off, “Yeah, fine.”

Her eyes narrow. He's not looked at her once.

She's surprised that he lasts as long as he does to be fair. Without the radio on, and only the sound of his Vauxhall's grinding revs to drown out the silence, she can see how his knuckles are white on the steering wheel.

“No…actually…it wasn't fine…”, he says quietly, almost too quiet to really hear without leaning over.

“Why?”

Billy scoffs, shaking his head, “I'm just a fucking idiot.”

Oh, hell no. We are not doing this.

Luckily, the route Billy is taking home goes through a dark single carriageway, covered by foliage with ample place to pull over.

“Park up.”

It's the first time he looks over at her. Brows arched in confusion.

“Eh?”

“Park. Up.”

He even sighs as he does, slowing to a full stop and tugging up the handbrake like it's the most difficult thing in the world.

“Turn the car off.”

He does. Moving his fingers to the bridge of his nose. By now wishing he'd said nothing at all.

“Do you wanna run that by me again?” she prods.

“Why are you being like this?”

“I'm not gonna sit here and listen to you calling yourself a ‘fucking idiot’, Billy.”

He sighs, “I really didn't wanna do this.”

“It's not an argument, Billy. Can you just tell me, plainly, what's happened? No…self-deprecation.”

His finger taps idly on the steering wheel, both of their breaths fogging up the car.

“I'm just…finding it hard”.

She cocks her head, gaze softening.

“It's not the same as…fixing up my old banger. Just feels like I don't know anything…”

There it is. That look on his face.

The one he always has when he's giving up on himself.

“Billy, they wouldn't have taken you on if they thought you couldn't do it-”

“I know. I'm just not hacking it-”

“Billy”, she says it flatly, hoping to grab his attention.

And she nearly softens right up when his baby blues look over at her from the driver's seat, all shiny and sad.

“Listen to me. I know, I know, how hard it's been for you to get any work. And now that you have, you're just trying to find something else to beat yourself up about.”

She sees how Billy swallows, nervously smoothing his hands over his jeans, like he doesn't know what to do when praised. It so rarely happened from anyone else before.

“You've done so well, Billy. And…as far as knowledge goes, if you don't know how to do something or…if you don't know what something is, ask.”

She reaches for his arm, wanting to show him with her touch, just how much she means it.

“There is no harm in asking. And give yourself some credit. Half the guys there have been doing this way longer than you and can barely hold their dick in a straight line.”

Some of the tension is lessened when he gives a breathy laugh, no doubt blushing as well as he looks into his lap. And she's relieved to see the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips.

“I'm so proud of you, you know.”

It just came out so naturally she didn't even think twice about saying it. But she's forced to rethink about the weight of it when he looks up to her, their faces bathed in the minimal glow of the street lights outside.

But he doesn't say anything, making a warmth creep into her cheeks as he studies her.

“What?”

A surprised squeak is all that's able to leave her mouth as Billy pulls her by the back of her neck to crash his lips to hers. An urgent, needed kiss. One of pure necessity, but warming nonetheless in her gut.

His clothes smell of engine oil, something she'd become pleasantly accustomed to since Billy started this new job. And it's shameful to admit, but she rather likes the rugged, masculine scent that vapes off of him when they're in the throes of it.

Now is no different.

She melts into him as his tongue sweeps over her bottom lip, caressing hers, before pulling away with a soft click.

“Say it again, please…”

Her lips part involuntarily as his fingers run into her hair, tugging her close to him as he mouths at her neck.

“Um…I am…I'm proud of you…”

She can feel his breath against her neck as he sighs, as if those are the sweetest words she's ever said to him.

Her eyes dart around as Billy presses himself up against her, able to see the effect all this is having concealed beneath his boxers.

“Billy, someone could see-”

“I don't care.”

She squeals again as Billy pulls the lever up on the passenger seat, laying the back down flat so she faces the roof. He is quick to follow on top of her, emboldened perhaps by the fact that the road is dark and clear with being so late at night, and there is nothing around them but fields and trees.

His knee parts her legs, chest pressed against hers as his full lips make their way down her neck to her collarbone.

Her chest feels all tight, stomach doing backflips at the thought of doing this so unabashedly in his car. But she doesn't protest. Instead she watches his face as he edges down her body, eventually reaching her leggings where his impatient hands tug at the waistband.

“Billy…”

He doesn't even wait to pull down her underwear before he dives between her thighs, mouthing at her clothed centre like he's been thinking about it all day.

“- fuck -”

All breath is shot out of her throat when Billy collects her underwear in his fingers and tugs them hastily aside, flattening his warm, wet muscle against her bundle of nerves in a sensation that has her back arch off the seat slightly.

Her hand finds his hair, the sandy tresses spilling through her fingers, pulling him towards her in micro-movements as he feasts on her, moaning outright as he does it. It does well to drown out the muffled sounds of a car flying past the single carriageway outside.

She is sure it's never felt this good before as she grinds unceremoniously on his face, searching for friction. And she feels the way his hands wrench her thighs apart, wanting more of her taste.

“Oh - fuck, Billy -”

Warmth creeps into her gut as Billy quickens, moving down to fuck her with his tongue as his thumb moves to her clit so the sensation is not abandoned. And both of these dull, pleasurable feelings at once has electricity firing off in her blood, not realising how hard she's pulling on him.

Her orgasm is followed by a choked cry, her hips chasing his lips and tongue as she rides it out. All Billy can do is lap up whatever she gives him, her essence coating his lips in the most erotic way, the car smelling of sex and their bodies.

He pulls away just enough to undo his jeans and lay back on top of her, his lips finding hers again and allowing her to taste the heady, musky juices that have coated them. She'd be embarrassed if she heard how she moaned as the head of his cock pushed past her slick folds, spearing her open around him.

She desperately hopes that another car doesn't come by as theirs has now started to bob with movements that cannot be explained with anything else other than sex. Although secretly, excitement bubbles inside her at the thought.

So she holds onto him, raising her legs around him to aid him deeper inside her, smiling lovingly when he gruffs.

“Say it again.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy

#billy washington x oc #billy washington x y/n #billy washington x reader #billy washington #billy washington x you #billy washington smut #billy washington fic #billy washington fanfic #billy washington fanfiction #billy washington trigger point #trigger point series #trigger point fanfic #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters #12 days of smuff #billy washington x fem!reader #billy washington x female reader

[mint-yooxgi]

Guardian - Yandere!Griffin!Jongho

Yandere AU & Griffin AU - First Person POV

Genre: Mature, Smutty Themes, Internal Monologue

Pairing: Jongho X Implied Chubby!Fem!Reader

Words: 1,557

Warnings: Possessive thoughts, violence - both implied and alluded to. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: This one's a lil shorter than the rest, but I think it gets the point across. He also turned out much more violent and possessive than I thought he would, but I think it suits his character here. I hope you'll look forward to the final one of these coming soon, too! As always, Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

The Fifteenth of The Feral Drabbles

You should have listened to me. I told you not to walk home alone in the dark. And yet… here we are.

You know, you’re much more peaceful when you’re unconscious. You don’t have a chance to nag me all the time.

It’s not that I’m trying to be controlling. Not at all. I just worry, okay? 

I know it might be difficult for you to understand, but I do worry about you. I’m not always going to be around to protect you like tonight. I’m just lucky I decided to follow after you, even after we said goodnight.

I could sense them. I knew you were being followed by more than just one of them, and I couldn’t let them take advantage of you. I don’t care if we had all been out in a group to start, their intentions after we said goodbye were impure!

I see the way others look at you when you’re not paying attention. Really, it’s quite obvious, but you act like you don’t notice. Of course they’d look. They’d all be stupid not to chance a glance at the stunning beauty that lays before them. I want them to look, but only when you’re with me. Look, but never touch.

I just wish they’d leave you alone.

Can’t they understand that you’re mine?

Fucking posers. I should gouge all their eyes out for what they tried to do to you tonight. Even just thinking about it makes my blood boil and my feathers ruffle. Knowing you, you’ll probably brush it all off once you wake up, making every excuse you can for those other guys. Only I know the truth, and I don’t care if you believe me or not.

No, they weren’t ‘being nice’ and walking you home, they expected something. They always expect something. No, they also weren’t ‘keeping an eye out’ for you. I do that. They were stalking you! I hear them always whispering about that one guy asking you out, and I couldn’t have that! 

You understand, right? Why I had to split his head open like a watermelon? He could have taken you away from me, and I couldn’t have that. You mean too much to me…

Don’t worry, I’ll take you home. I’ll keep you safe. I’m the only one who can. The only one you should trust.

The moon is full tonight as the wind whips through my feathers. I thought taking you for a little flight would help soothe you after the trauma you’ve just endured. Despite you being unconscious, I feel like it’s helping. I’ve got you, and even in your sleep, you’ve got me. I will never let you fall, and besides, maybe if you wake up while we soar through the night sky, you’ll be less mad about what happened.

Not that you should be mad at all, but you always get upset at me when I stick up for you. Every time I step in when people make inappropriate comments, or I ‘accidentally’ trip someone that’s standing a little too close to you, you cuss me out. I can practically hear your voice in my head already yelling about how they were just being ‘friendly’.

‘Friendly’ my ass.

Good thing you’re asleep. That eye roll would have earned me a smack on my arm. Perhaps even a disappointed shake of your head, too.

You’re lucky I love you. I let you get away with so much shit I normally would never put up with. I suppose that’s what happens when you care about someone as much as I care about you…

I’ll never admit how much I enjoy it when you touch me, even when you playfully smack my arm, or the upside of my head. I’d rather receive one hundred- no, one thousand of those than see you even lay a finger on someone else that’s not me. If you thought I was violent tonight, you should see some of the corpses of the people who’ve touched you, especially without your permission. Certain people, like our close friends and your family, I can let slide. But nasty fuckers who think they have any sort of chance with you?

Never.

It’s pathetic how easily their flesh shreds beneath my claws. Honestly, I can’t believe any of them ever thought that they even had a chance with you. If they can’t save themselves, how are they ever going to protect you? Fucking pathetic, weak morsels that don’t deserve to even share the same air as you.

Of course, I’d never let you see that side of me. The one that’s covered in entrails and blood after disposing of the trash. You’d worry too much, and besides, I never want you to be scared of me. You have nothing to fear. Never from me. Not while I’m around. After all, everything I do, I do for you.

Really, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Say the word, even so much as imply you want something, and it’s yours. You are my one and only saving grace in this godforsaken world, and I will do everything in my power to see you smile. I will always be there to offer you a shoulder to cry on, and loving arms to embrace you when you need me. 

Nothing is off limits. I just want to make you happy.

I will make you happy. I know I will. Yet, you seem to brush off my advances every chance you get. What will it take for you to see how completely and utterly devoted I am to you? I would burn down entire cities, level the highest of mountains to the ground to prove myself to you. 

The impossible will become probable with me around. That’s my promise to you.

See! Even subconsciously you want to be close to me! Your grip just tightened on my back. You’re even nuzzling closer into my feathers!

…Either that, or you’re waking up.

Perhaps I should simply glide through the air now if that’s the case. Like I said, I don’t want to scare you.

Oh… it seems as though it was a false alarm. You’re still sleeping so soundly. As you should.

I’ve got you.

Are you dreaming of me? I always dream about you, so it’s only fair. I promised myself that I’d become the man of your dreams, but to think that might be literal is just… well, it only makes my affections for you grow. Let me protect you in your dreams just as well as I protect you in reality. Let my love wash over you so you feel it even when you’re away from me, deep within your own unconscious mind. Feel my devotion washing over you with every breath, and stay with me. Forevermore.

Perhaps now you’ll take me seriously. After you wake up, and calm down of course, I’ll tell you how I really feel. No more skirting around our feelings, and hoping you’ll understand why I do what I do. I need to be more forward, and finally tell you my everlasting love for you is real.

Thinking of it now… will you kiss me when I confess? Oh, gods… just thinking about the feel of your lips pressed against my own is making my head spin. Are they as soft as they look? Have you fantasized about mine as often as I’ve dreamt about yours? Do you also want my lips to caress every inch of your body when we’re alone? I swear nothing but the sweetest of praises will fall from my lips as I press them to your own, and all over your glorious body worthy of every piece of worship I plan to offer to you.

And worship you I shall.

There will be no part of you untouched by me. There is no part of you unloved by me. I plan to show you, to make you mine in every meaning of the sense, but only if you will allow me to do so. I only ever want to please you, to make you shake as you succumb to the deepest throws of pleasure, drowning you completely in ecstasy so you can no longer tell where you end and I begin. 

I was made to love you, and you were made to be loved by me.

Let me feel your nails digging into my back. Mark up my thighs which I know you adore. It’s cute to see you turn away shyly every time I catch you staring and admiring me. Though, you shouldn’t be ashamed, I admire you, too. Every chance I can get.

I always hear you joking about finding someone who will completely ravage you. Someone who will make you scream their name until the early hours of the morning. Someone to love you until you can’t take it anymore, to focus completely on you and you alone.

Well, Darling, I’m right here. Ready and eager whenever you are. You wouldn’t even have to ask, for I would fall to my knees to please you. Every. Single. Time.

Once you wake up, I’ll take you home. I just hope someday that home will be with me. A place to call our own. Where I am yours, and you are mine.

As it should be.

As it will be.

#cultofdionysusnet #mfu net #yandere ateez #yandere jongho #ateez scenario #jongho scenario #ateez imagine #kpop au #kpop scenario #kpop imagine #yandere kpop #griffin au #chubby reader #ateez au

[raeofsunrise]

Rae, I need that part two more than I need my peppermint tea- 👀 I’m about to watch Detention for the 20th time this month… yes, December… no, I don’t have a problem 😂

it’s finally here!! sorry for making y’all wait, but it’s here. it’s a lot shorter due to my life being busy and just wanting to get it out, but i love it! hope you do too ☆

from me, to you

wordcount: 645

pairing: clapton davis x gn! reader

warnings: clapton has an inner monologue that’s kind of angsty?? i think this is one more cliché ❤️

—————

the suspense was killing him. did you read it yet? did you even remember the letter existed? what did you think? a million thoughts were rushing through clapton’s head as he walked to his class. maybe if he walked painstakingly slow, his mind would do the same.

but how would he distract himself for one whole hour? he had hoped that he wouldn’t run into you.

clapton was never one to think that highly of himself. surprising, i know. it seemed like everyone in his life thought he was the coolest. that he was amazing. but deep down, he never really thought that.

but you were always there to bring him up. to make him feel like everything people said he was—in the most healthy way possible.

he just doesn’t know what he’d do with himself if you didn’t feel the way he felt about you. he couldn’t lose you, not over some stupid feelings. he’d do anything to keep you in his life, even if it meant having to watch you go on with yours without him.

god, he really couldn’t lose you.

he was so lost in thought thinking about you, he thought he felt you tap his shoulder. surprisingly, it actually was you. and you were pulling him into an empty hallway so you could talk to him. he didn’t need to go to class that bad. wasn’t like it would affect his grade, anyways.

“finally,” you say.

“looked like you were in some real deep thought, there.”

he noticed you re-using his words from your earlier conversation. you never really forgot about anything, did you? under different circumstances, his heart would be fluttering because of that thought, but instead it’s fluttering because he’s not sure if you’re here to break his heart or not.

he realizes he hasn’t responded to you yet, but honestly he’s not sure if that would make things worse or way worse.

but he can’t just not talk to you.

“i was.” he says, letting out the smallest smile, one that was less full of energy, and more full of anxiety.

“i, uhm…i read the letter.” you say.

“oh.” he replies. maybe you didn’t read the back. maybe there is hope to salvage this friendship.

but his hope quickly dissipates as you finish your sentence.

“the whole letter.”

“oh.” was that all he could say?! no wonder you wanted to reject him, he thought.

you knew you were gonna have to lead the conversation, otherwise you’d never get him to tell you how he felt. you had to hear him say it.

“did you mean what you wrote?” you ask.

a beat passes.

“all of what you wrote.” you clarify.

your heart was racing. what if it was just impulse? what if you had read everything wrong?

“every word.” he answers.

you both stare at each other in silence. you don’t even realize how close you two are until he speaks.

“can i kiss yo—“ he tries to ask but you cut him off with a kiss as soon as the first word comes out of his mouth.

it didn’t last long, but you both savored every single moment of it. his lips were soft. soft like cotton candy, and—god, just as sweet. he kissed you with all the emotion he’s felt for you over the years. in the few moments your lips did meet, his hand found its way to your cheek. really, the only reason you both pulled away was to get some air.

after you both pull away, you’re left looking into his beautiful, brown, love-struck eyes. you decide to put a hand on his cheek, too.

“y’know, i think i love you too.” you say.

“you mean it?” he asks.

“every word.”

part 1

taglist (all the people who begged for a part two) ☆

@lovelyniyachy

@omwtkydttfym

@tacomumun3r

@janitorhutcherson (my bestie)

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #peeta mellark x reader #clapton davis #clapton davis x reader #josh futturman x reader #josh hutcherson x reader #five nights at freddy's

[dmwrites]

It had been long enough now that the pattern was familiar. It started as a gnawing emptiness, looking for something that wasn’t there yet. It was apparent on every face, the need for a task, the greed and satisfaction that came with reward.

The rules were simple- Grian had explained them when they had all shown up in this new world. Get a task. Keep it a secret. Do the task. Succeed. Don’t die, even though you will. The feeling of incompleteness while waiting for a task hasn’t been in the explanation- or, at least, Martyn hoped it wasn’t just him who felt this way.

Martyn kept to himself a lot this season, and it was in a cave that he received his next secret task. Martyn often wondered how the book that held his task got to be in his pocket. The tasks were delivered timely every week, with no apparent source. Martyn suspected that whatever, whoever was giving them these tasks did not appreciate people dwelling on the source, as Martyn always got a headache when thinking about it.

Martyn felt a heaviness in his pocket- a new secret task delivered. He stepped back, finally striking down the zombie that had climbed quite a distance to get to him. Martyn went into a small alcove in the cave, well-lit already from his exploration. Just to be safe, he boarded up the gaping opening in front of him, so no mobs could possibly do a lick of damage to him. He’d already suffered so many hearts lost with his recklessness.

Martyn opened the small book, which glowed a slight purple, held it up to the torch light to read his task.

Find RenTheDog

Martyn’s breath stilled in his chest. It was two words, two very simple words, and he read them over and over again like they were a hymn, a passage he failed to really comprehend.

“He’s not-”

Martyn hit a button on his communicator, scanned through the names listed, every participant in this game. Ren was not among them. Martyn knew that. Martyn knew that. This was the second game in a row the dog had been absent from, which tore Martyn’s heart in ways only Ren could, but it was fine. Or, it had been, until now, until this task stared him in the face.

Martyn let out a choked laugh.

“It’s… this surely would be a hard task, first of all.” The hollowness in his voice kind of dulled the joke into nothingness. “He’s not here. Ren is not… here.” He tried to emphasize his point, put his finger to his name, but it ended up being more of a caress of the name on the page.

No one answered his open-air monologue, which he’d expected. So, with nothing to go off of, besides those two taunting words, Martyn dug his way to the surface.

He soon stood before the secret keeper, before that damned mark that he knew, by god he knew none of it was just mere coincidence.

“So I’m guessing you just want me to have to pick a harder task, is that it? Hoping I’ll fail big time and you can get me out of your hair faster?” Martyn snarled at the stone before him. “Well, baby, I’m a cockroach, so good luck with that.”

He pressed the button before him, with the sign under that read “reroll for a harder task”. There were whispers, some kind of poem that Martyn, in his anger, didn’t bother reading, and then a book appeared in mid-air, a deep red this time. Martyn caught it before it fell, ripped the cover open.

Find the Red King.

“Fuck you!” Martyn yelled, outrage and mourning and yearning pouring out of him all at once. “I can’t… why? Why on earth are you doing this to me? I can’t do this… I can’t-”

He could see people coming, whether to complete their task or to see what the yell had been about, and he ran. He didn’t know the land, having spent so much time underground, so it was a blind dash towards the tree line. His heart was thudding, his mind a mess.

There was, however much he tried to tamp it down, a blossom of hope. He slowed down eventually, when he hit a world boarder, thinking hard. Twice now, the secret keeper had told him to find Ren. They must know who Martyn was, who had held the axe. No one better to find him.

Martyn looked for RenTheDog. He built a tower of cobblestone to the sky, scanning the land far below. He ventured into the deepest caves, calling out Ren’s name and hearing it echo back to him with more and more desperation.

But the day was only so long, and, eventually, Grian’s message in chat confirmed what Martyn had already known.

<Time is up. Anyone who hasn’t completed their task yet has failed. Meet at the secret keeper.>

“So, did anyone fail their tasks this week?” Grian asked to the gathered group.

Martyn strode forward in the silence that followed, hit the button that said “fail”. He bit back a pained moan as a row of hearts was taken from him. He could hear sympathetic groans and gasps behind him, others trying to share in his pain. But they didn’t know, not really.

“What was the task?” Grian asked curiously.

“I’d rather not say.” Martyn said. He turned and walked past his friends, out towards the setting sun. It hurt. It all hurt.

#secret life #inthelittlewood #trafficblr #renchanting

[mrs-kmikaelson]

01| The Tribrid

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x daughter!reader, Marcel Gerard x reader (platonic) Summary: While you're away on an impromptu break, Marcel comes to try and get you to come back to help him face the Mikaelsons who just so happen to be your long lost family (but no else knows that). Warnings: none Words: 3.2K

Masterlist | Part 2

a/n: i guess this kinda fits in with season one, but it's more of an AU than anything. so, it has elements of the s1 plot, like the marcel and klaus feud, the hope plot, but the villains from s1 won't really be present. like i said, AU. but without further adieu, on we go.

New Orleans was a land of plastic beads and festivals for days–a tourist attraction, which basically meant a blood bank. I knew what lurked in the shadows, what whispered through the grapevine behind the music, but Originals... I didn't know they were back.

Word travels fast around the Quarter, but I haven't been there; I was in Mystic Falls, too busy following up on a lead about the Mikaelsons to even realize that they were at the place I started, my home. 

Marcel wouldn't stop talking about it. As soon as I got back, I was flooded with information and, as soon as I got back, I could hear the whispers from a mile away. Most reactions to the arrival of such a family were scared, livid, shocked, but I was none of the above.

I didn't have a thing to say back to Marcel, not a thing to say to the people who were suddenly confusing me with Rebekah Mikaelson. I didn't have an inch of emotion about it, not surprise, not fear. I mean, how could anyone be surprised? How could I be surprised, scared?

How could I be surprised by my own family?

"Klaus needs to learn his place." I internally rolled my eyes at Marcel's, basically, monologue, continuing to sift through pages of the magazine in my hands. "He's outta line." 

Klaus Mikaelson was always out of line– he had no line, no boundaries. He was Klaus Mikaelson and that was the only line there was, but I didn't say that. When Marcel was having one of his tantrums, I learned to just listen to him; interrupting or putting my own two cents in just made the conversation longer and I only wanted it to end. 

"He thinks he can just kick me out of the Quarter, out of my home, the bastard. Who does he think he is?" Rhetorical question, I had to remind myself, holding my tongue. The former king of New Orleans was sitting across from me at a coffee shop in New York. A coffee shop.

He was calling this his 'vacation' but we both knew that the only reason he was here was because boss man told him to leave. Honestly, I don't know why I'm here. I'm supposed to be in a university class, but it doesn't really matter if I can just compel the grade, right?

I was doing psych this time; Cami's always saying all these things to me about how she thinks my brain works and I honestly want to learn how it does. Saying I have a PhD might actually get me a significant other, but, knowing myself, the whole triangle of creatures thing might freak them out. 

At least I haven't gone as low as Marcel.

"Y'know, just because that ass is an Original doesn't mean he's suddenly the shit." 

This time, I didn't bother trying to hide the roll of my eyes, continuing to flip through my magazine as I responded. "Uh... it kinda does." I could feel his glare on my forehead as my eyes widened at Kim K's ass. Not even being a Vampire gives you that- "And, Marcel, I don't know if you've realized it yet, but he isn't just an Original."

I looked up at him for the first time since his rant started and gave him a pointed look. Sometimes, he didn't think with his head. 

Marcel shrugged like he was saying, 'so what' silently. "Tyler what's-his-name is a hybrid, too."

I raised a brow at him. "A hybrid turned by Klaus, and wasn't he the guy who tried to kill Klaus' wife or whatever, inadvertently but intentionally trying to kill himself, and then failed?" 

"Not the point, Y/N/N." The fuck it isn't- "The point is that the man is such a dick because his is so small." Gross. Didn't need to hear that.

"Didn't he adopt you or something?"

"Is that all you're getting from what I'm saying?"

I made a face at him, putting my magazine down on the table. "Can I be honest and say I don't get anything from this conversation?"

He deadpanned, "You're annoying."

"Glad you're just now figuring that out, Cellie." I got up from my seat, patting him on his back. "Please, though, go have this talk with Camille instead."

I started walking away, but Marcel only got up and began following me out, making me hold in a groan. God, men, they can never take a damn hint.

"Hey, where you headed?" He asked, but he dismissed his own question just as quick as I would've. "And aren't you supposed to talk to me and help me figure out my problems? You're studying psych, aren't you?"

I scoffed, "Yeah, people usually pay for a psychiatrist to talk to them." Honestly, I don't know why Marcel was here. With a God complex like his, you'd expect him to stay and, y'know, get himself killed. It's not like him to use his brain so suddenly.

He could've gone to damn Vegas, maybe LA, but he just has to come to where I am, right after I leave. He's getting a break from his 'Kingly' duties; Klaus is taking that off his hands, so why isn't he enjoying it and taking an actual vacation instead of visiting me and calling it a holiday? I'm not the Eiffel Tower, for Pete's sake.

It's a power struggle. People like him, came from the bottom and wanted nothing more than to be at the top, fighting against people like Originals, who had been where my friend wanted to be since the beginning of time. 

Marcel didn't want to admit he was playing a losing game.

"You telling me to go home, Y/L/N?"

I rolled my eyes. What gave it away? "Precisely, Gerard."

I was just about to make it to my car when Marcel sped in front of me. I looked up at the sky and pinched my eyes. God, he was insufferable. Honestly, it shouldn't have surprised me that he came all this way just to bitch. But what he said next did surprise me.

"Come back with me, then."

My eyes snapped open and I stared at him incredulously. What the fuck.

I rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn't hallucinating and Cellie slapped my arm. "C'mon, Y/N/N. It'll be funnnnnnnnn." The way he dragged out the word did not convince me in the slightest.

I got over my shock and voiced my thoughts. "You want me to come back because you think drama with the Mikaelsons is- fun?"

He was quick with his response. "It could be." He then snorted. "Hell, I'd love to see Klaus' reaction to a girl like you, stronger than him-" I cut him off with my magic, his lips slamming shut immediately. It was only a temporary thing, just stops a person from speaking for a second, so he'd be able to continue right after, but he got the point and shut up.

I've known Marcel for close to fifty years. Met him in the seventies. He tried to kill me and I knocked him off his feet with a classic telekinesis spell. Since then, he's known about who I am and he's also decided that he's better off having me on his team. Whatever the hell that means.

I usually like to keep the whole tribrid thing under wraps, hence why I got Marcel to stop talking.

I gave him a look. "Klaus wouldn't have any reaction what I am, because he wouldn't know." Apparently, my gaze conveyed my message well enough because Marcel raised his hands in surrender. 

"Okay, okay," he conceded. "No one's gotta know. But you should come back anyway."

I can't say I haven't thought about it. I know I can't stay out in New York forever. 

I rolled my eyes. I can't believe I'm actually giving thought to something Marcel says. "Okay, gimme time and I'll think about it."

He grinned and pointed finger guns at me, walking backwards away from me. "Think it over and we'll talk about it tomorrow." He turned around and walked away with a kick in his step before he disappeared completely, moving too fast for the human eye to detect.

I sighed and shook my head, the smallest of smiles growing on my face. Ah, Marcel. 

I pulled out my keys, walking to my car and thinking about what he asked. 

It's sorta odd, I suppose. Considering how long I've been watching the Mikaelsons, you'd think I'd be the first one there in New Orleans, keeping tabs on them, but the only way I knew about their escapades was from Marcel who told me voluntarily.

That was one thing he didn't know about me; no one did. No one knew about my connection to the Mikaelsons, not even the Mikaelsons themselves, which is partially why I don't wanna go back to NOLA just yet.

My apartment's in the Quarter, way too close to the Abbatoir and, according to Marcel, that's now Original HQ. It's too risky, my rational side said.

Yet, the other part of me that spent almost my entire life tracking them, being infatuated with them, thinks that being so close to them would be favourable. 

And, like most times, the irrational part of my brain wins the battle in decision-making.

Fuck. Marcel's gonna have to buy me a lot of alcohol for this one.

Walking through the quarter again is like that human expression 'like riding a bike.' I've obviously never ridden a bike, but I get what the expression is meant to say. It's referring to doing something that comes naturally to you.

That's what this is.

Marcel is beside me as we walk past both all the tourists and locals. It's easy to tell the difference between the two. I compelled movers earlier to unload all my stuff back into my apartment so I have nothing to worry about other than getting reacquainted with my city.

The path we took eventually led us to Rousseau's and as soon as we entered my eyes scanned the bar for Cami, who I know for a fact Marcel is obsessed with. But she's way too good for him.

I went and sat down at the bar and waited for her to come our way. She wasn't paying much attention when she came over, wiping down some glasses. "Hey, what can I getcha?"

"The usual." Her head shot up when she heard me and a smile broke out on her face. "Y/N/N?" She put down what she was holding and came around the counter, embracing me in a hug. "Oh my God, I thought you were gonna be stuck in the big apple for a while still."

I chuckled. "Yeah, well Marcel happened to- no, nevermind, Marcel just happened." She let out a laugh and went back around the counter, greeting Marcel and getting to work on our drinks.

"Well, I'm glad you're back," she said.

Marcel inserted himself into the conversation and I tuned them out after that, letting the two of them flirt. Cami probably didn't define it as flirting, but she definitely was.

I think she liked Marcel, but she was in denial about it. I get why though. She didn't wanna fall for a guy that was bad news and she had doubts about him, reasonable doubts.

But beyond the vampirism and ego, I knew Marcel would treat her right. That's why I got up from my seat straight after downing my drink, catching their attention. 

"Hey, I'm gonna head out, It's getting late anyways and I still have to unpack." Marcel rose a brow at me, knowing I didn't have to unpack shit, but he should be grateful. I'm basically cupid and I'm shooting them both right now.

Cami gave a little sigh. "You just got here, though-"

"I'll be back tomorrow morning, promise!" I smiled at her for emphasis and she untensed and reciprocated the action.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow then." Her and Cellie both waved bye to me and I walked out the door. God, I was just itching to get out of there. The tension between them was suffocating me. 

I put my hands into my pockets and glanced at the sky that had darkened significantly from when Marcel and I entered the bar. I guess we were there for longer than I thought.

There weren't really any tourists left walking around, only a few people that actually lived in the area. No vampires were allowed to fuck with the locals and, besides, most of the locals were witches, anyways. 

Even humans like Cami should be safe walking through the Quarter at night, but even then, if you didn't know about the supernatural while living in NOLA then you were in a whole other kind of danger. Knowledge is power.

Even if you were a witch, that was still risky. And if you were a werewolf, then forget it. Vampires were the only people without fear nowadays, it seemed.

Luckily, or unfortunately, I was all three creatures. 

"Back off," My ears picked up the sound of a girl growling. My eyes hadn't found her yet, but my nose worked faster. Werewolf.

Whoever she was talking to seemed to have that ability as well and murmured, "You're a werewolf." He was shaken but then he laughed, "Oh, I'm gonna have fun with you." Vampire.

Damnit, my first day back in the Quarter and, already, I'm dealing with the remnants of drama caused by Marcel. I sighed, thinking it's none of my damn business. But I could hear the sound of that girl's heart pitter pattering and I knew I couldn't just ignore it.

Motherfucker.  

I rolled my eyes and strained my ears a little more to guide me to where they were, my senses leading me to an alleyway where the wolf girl and the vampire stood. His back was facing me so he couldn't see me, but the girl caught my gaze and her eyes widened.

The vampire's head cocked. "What are you looking at?" Just as he turned to face me, I ran up to him and snapped his neck. His body fell to the floor with an ungraceful thump and I pushed a lock of hair away from my face, looking up to the girl who wore an expression of shock.

I had a sarcastic comment in my head that I felt like saying, but honestly, I just wanted to go home so I pushed it to the side and gave her a serious look. "You shouldn't walk all alone in the Quarter at night. It can be dangerous."

She shook off her surprise and stood taller, scoffing, "I can handle myself." Oh, for sure, I thought. This time, I was gonna speak my thoughts, but a heartbeat caught me by surprise. I held back a stagger and looked down to her stomach where the little thumping was coming from. 

A pregnant werewolf.

My stare remained on her stomach as I cautioned, "You really shouldn't be out in the Quarter on your own. Especially if you're pregnant." I looked back up to her when her arms quickly wrapped themselves around her stomach. 

She was a little more reserved now, stepping away from me a little and saying, "Trust me, I've got people looking out for me."

I snorted. "And where are they?"

She didn't reply, instead she only wrapped her arms around herself tighter. I get it; werewolves oughta be careful with vampires in this city and she thinks I'm a vampire- or just a vampire, rather. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and waved it. "I'll call the baby's father now and he'll come get me." She kept staring at me for a few more seconds before adding, "So thank you, really, but I'll be fine now." Translation: please go away. 

I nodded at her and turned around as she began dialling. I wanted to get home anyway and I didn't need to stick around to see any baby daddy drama. Since that girl was a werewolf, baby daddy was probably some form of supernatural and therefore huge ego. Entertaining, but could get annoying.

I continued back on the route to my apartment per usual, passing by a few people and a few other neighbours I waved to. I knew all the locals, and I know for a fact girl doesn't live in the Quarter for two reasons. One, I don't know her, and two, werewolves aren't exactly welcome in the Quarter.

Of course, I'm a werewolf too, but no one knows that.

Knowing that werewolves aren't welcome here makes me wonder if she knew that, makes me wonder why she's here in the first place but as soon as my mind starts wandering, I steer myself back, reminding myself it really is none of my business. 

I'll probably never see her again, anyway.

Sooner than not, I make it to my townhouse. Just before I'm about to go up the steps to the door, I stop and turn to the side, staring out at all the other houses and little shops. If I walked a little further, I'd make it to the compound that was no longer Marcel's territory.

If I walked a little further, the Mikaelsons would be right there. And should they ever walk this way, they might just see me.

I shook my head and walked up the steps, opening my door. 

The Mikaelsons are a problem for another day. Right now, I'm going to bed.

When I wake up the next day, it's noon and someone is calling me. I picked up the phone without checking the caller ID, knowing who it was anyway. "Yes, Marcel?" I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand and turned over so the sun wasn't fucking my eyeballs.

"Ooh, you sound happy to hear my voice."

"Just elated, Cellie." I stuck my head into my pillow and grumbled, "Elated."

Marcel snickered. "Well, good because we have a party to go to."

My head moves up from the pillow. "What?" Marcel threw parties all the time, but since he lost his power, he didn't have anywhere to throw one.

"It's a Mikaelson bash." My breath got caught in my throat at the mention of the name, but Marel didn't notice, continuing on with bitterness in his voice. "It's to show the city who's in charge now."

I quickly got over the Mikaelson name drop like usual and probed, "But aren't you supposed to be banished from the Quarter?" I got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. "Going to that thing just sounds like a recipe for disaster."

"Sure, you could view it like that, but Klaus won't try anything while we're there."

"And why's that?"

"Because the party's supposed to be a symbol for peace, too. We'll be fine. Plus, I need a date."

I held back a snort. "What, Cami's busy?"

"She's working the bar tonight," he replied. "So you've gotta come with me."

I felt a sigh coming on. For fuck's sake, I just got back. I wasn't expecting this to happen yet.

I was gonna contemplate for a while longer but Marcel didn't give me that time. Instead, he just quickly told me he'd be picking me up at 8 and hung on me, making me gasp.

Son of a bitch.

#klaus x reader #klaus x daughter!reader #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader #the originals #tvd #tvdu #tvd fandom #angsty imagine #camille o'connell

[poisonous-honey]

The Venti Parable

(This is a re-upload: originally posted on UniverseUchu on Feb 25, 2023)

Characters: Venti and The Narrator. The Reader and Stanley have very little presence

Warnings: None really. They enter the zending room if that upsets you, but they barely stay there for long. This is mostly in drabble form and lightly skimmed for errors

This is both the Narrator’s and Venti’s worst nightmare. An omnipotent, self-destructive perfectionist who strives to keep everything self-contained and the ever funky little god of freedom.

Venti is not impressed with this game of choice in the slightest. He had hoped his position in your heart would’ve saved him from the torture some of the others have been put through, but he was unfortunately not given this blessing. He didn’t feel like following this narrator’s every whim, he only wanted to do that with you. He was free to do as he pleases

As you’re talking to the Narrator to convince him, having someone else to narrate for just a few runs would help him with his story (“He can speak! You can get instant feedback!”) Venti sits in the office next to Stanley. 

“Alright, fine. I’ll let Venti play the game in Stanley’s place for a short while, only because you keep incessantly asking.”

“Hey! I am great company. Wouldn’t it at least be nice to have someone else to talk to for a little while?”

“This is the story of a man named Venti”

He sighs and gets up from his position next to Stanley before walking through the office

After what he feels was him being ignored, Venti reaches a fork in the road

“When Venti came to a set of two open doors, he entered the door on his left.”

He holds his chin with his hand and closes his eyes, acting as if he was deeply thinking about his next course of action. Of course, he already knew what he'd do as soon as the directions were spewed at him.

“No, I think I'd rather go right.”

Que sighing from above. Quelle Surprise

~~~

After getting told no one would ever love him and having the parable restart, though disoriented, his next objective is to try and see if he could leave the building

He was not a fan of the Narrator and vice versa

His first attempt is to see if he can jump out of any windows

Honestly surprised he managed to fall through one on his first try (or at all, really)

He had a bit of hope that he had escaped the Narrator, but after accidentally breaking the phone and still getting an ending, he highly doubted it.

And he sighed as he was unfortunately proven right, and the Narrator starts to monologue

“What do you think, are you sick of this gag yet?”

Venti didn’t think there was a correct answer, so he just hit yes while smiling cheekily up into the air. At this point he was just trying to be entertaining for his player, but so was the Narrator

“Now would be the time I go on about having ample amounts of opportunities to restart the game, but unfortunately for you, our player is in control of that. Since all I hear is laughter on their end, I'm going to try to make this as miserable as possible, before they reset to help you out.”

As the Narrator started to sing, Venti quickly looked towards the screen in hopes he could get you to reset immediately, but all you did was shrug

How very cruel of you

~~~

After a few more runs, the last of which had Venti falling flat on his face, he decided to see where listening to the narrator got him

The Narrator kept to the script as usual, he was a professional after all, but the light elation in his voice was obvious to the two of you

Venti couldn’t help but mess with him on the way though

The Narrator could feel his temper rising, watching Venti doing literally nothing. Letting out a sigh, he directs his next questions to you. “Did you put him up to this? Be honest with me here, I have— I am extremely skeptical of this entire ordeal.” You laugh as you hear The Narrator’s anger and Venti asking if he wasn’t allowed to simply relax, further upsetting The Narrator. “I’ve done no such thing. Informing either party beforehand would’ve made this far less entertaining.” “So you’re telling me that everyone, but me, is able to see what’s so fascinating about a broom closet? If that’s where you’re getting at, then it’s absolutely wonderful to have confirmation that I am, truly, the smartest person here.” “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Mr. Narrator Sir.” “... I refuse to acknowledge this behaviour.”

Finally making it to the end and turning off the mind control machine, every light turns off as The Narrator starts his freedom ending speech

The door slowly opens and Venti can just about feel the wind call to him

Daylight peaks through the opening and grows larger every second as it descends. He can barely wait for the door to fully open and finally be able to see the skies.

As the door comes to a stop on the floor and Venti takes in the view, he finally feels a sense of ease wash over him since he was brought here. The scenery was truly beautiful.

Venti takes his first steps forward onto the grass and as he continues to drown out The Narrator’s dialogue, he figures that maybe this was the reason you brought him here out of all games.

“...- And Venti was happy.”

The Narrator finishes speaking. Venti opens his mouth to actually throw him a genuine compliment - when-

It all fades to black

And within the blink of an eye, he wakes up in the office next to Stanley, who can do nothing but look at him with a reassuring gaze and wave.

Venti just about curls into a ball and cries while Stanley panics and silently frets over him

“That’s the ending you wanted to guide me to...”

“It’s called the ‘Freedom Ending!’ The one true ending for my story that Stanley refuses to cooperate with me on. Surely someone such as yourself understands and is able to appreciate what I’m trying to-”

“On every level of irony, you’ve managed to single-handedly rip away my own freedom with this horrific outcome.”

~~~

Walking through the red door after bamboozling The Narrator long enough, Venti reaches the platform and is quickly stunned at how pretty the light show is

“Right here, see! All I want is to show Stanley, our dear player, and now you, something remarkable. Now tell me. Can you really look at this space and say it’s not truly beautiful?”

Venti giggled before spinning and sitting down. “Why, this room is a poet's dream! The only thing I’d add is nature.”

He sat in the room for a bit longer, just staring at the stars and light show. This is the closest Venti’s gotten to a true place of rest in a while, so he’d like to treasure it a bit more before leaving.

Eventually tearing his eyes away from the sparkles, Venti looks around and realizes the only rooms here are the space room he’s currently in,  and a room with some stairs. Getting up and going over, the narrator panics.

“Hey Venti, what are you doing? Where are you going?”

“I’m just looking around. I haven’t seen an exit, so I want to know where the stairs lead.”

“But we haven’t even been here that long a-and there’s nothing over there but stairs, they don’t go anywhere.”

“... It seems I’m in a predicament. Oh, my dear player, where is the exit?”

“Don’t tell him! He’s done nothing but ruin my story time and time again, the least both of you could do is allow me this solace for a little while longer.”

“But I followed your every instruction just before this run!”

All you do is sigh. Maybe you should’ve told Venti not to come here. “... I’m going to begin the game again.”

“But my peace and tranquility!” “But don’t you want to see the proper ending?”

“No, I really don’t and trust me, you won’t want to take the intended ending either.”

~~~

“Player I have to admit, the only difference working with Venti is the constant sass I’ve been receiving in turn. This hasn’t been beneficial in the slightest.”

“Hey! I still gave you plenty of good input you can use!”

“I highly disagree.”

“I beg to differ!”

You had hoped meeting Venti would help The Narrator with some of his issues, but without informing Venti in advance, all they did was annoy each other. Oh well, it was still fun to witness.

“I hope we never meet again.”

“And I hope you learn to enjoy life's intricacies instead of obsessing over the same story over and over… Aaaand that I never have to go through this ever again.”

Venti trusts you with his entire being, he really does, but if you offer him a chance to participate in another game he's going to be asking a lot of questions beforehand

#Pois.Posts #Genshin x Reader #Sagau #Self Aware Genshin #Venti x Reader #X Reader #Self Indulgence As Usual Baby #the stanley parable x reader #tsp x reader #Pois.Writes

[weird-is-life]

Hi, here is a request if you' d like, what about a remus x reader, where its Halloween and during a fair in hogsmead they visit a fortune teller who reads their hands.

Hii, ty for requesting! I'm sooooo sorry it's so freaking late🤦‍♀️hope this is okay warnings: fluff, pet names, inaccurate description of hand reading( I've no clue about it lmao), (0.6k)

You and Remus walk hand in hand through the fair, chatting about everything and nothing at the same time.

The Hogsmead looks even more magical with all of the festive decorations. You don't even know, which part of the fair should you visit first.

That is until you see the big sign 'Hand reading', you think it might be a fun way of starting the night, so you immediately start dragging Remus towards it.

"Hand reading?", he raises his eyebrows at you," you do know, that most of those Hand readers are not very good at it, right?"

"I know, Rem," you roll your eyes at him and giggle," but I think, it can be fun, no? Who knows, we might find out something really interesting."

"Alright, dove, but I'm only doing it for you," Remus sighs jokingly, just to tease you about forcing him to go there.

When you enter the big tent, you can already feel the gloomy atmosphere, that's typical for things like hand reading and others.

A woman sits in the middle of it and you are pretty sure, that she's going to be the one reading your hands. Her look and presence are enough to tell you it, along with the fact that nobody else is there.

"Welcome," she says with dramatic voice, it's quite comical. You share one look with Remus and have to try very hard not to start laughing at it.

"T-thank you," Remus recovers more quickly than you," we saw the sign....are you the one reading hands?" Remus asks apprehensively.

"Yes, my dear, come...come sit here," she gestures at the two pillows in front of her. You and Remus stand there for just a second and then slowly move to sit down.

She takes your hand first and you don't know if you are feeling excited, curious or scared of what she's going to say. She starts to read your hand ad most of the things she says, are the usual things you'd hear at hand reading. Nothing too exciting or shocking.

Then comes Remus's hand. It starts of pretty boring as well, but then she says," ahh, I think, that one of your closest friends is going to be pretty unlucky in just a few moments."

And as soon as she says it, Remus is up on his legs, storming out of there, before you can even say anything.

You quickly put a few pounds into the woman's hand and bolt out of there, too, running after your Remus.

When you catch up to him, you can see how angry the comment made him," what a stupid hand reader? Why does she think, she has the right to say something like that-"

Remus's angry monologue is cut off shortly, because he sees Sirius walking towards you two, soaked to the bones.

There's literally water dripping off of him as he walks.

"Oh," Remus says and starts to laugh.

"What's so funny Remus?" you question confused, I mean, one second he is all angry about hand reading and the next, he starts laughing like a crazy person.

"That's what she meant," he laughs in disbelief.

"What do you mean?"

"The old hag, she said my friend is going to be pretty unlucky and now look at Sirius, he looks like he's fallen into the lake," Remus explains and he doesn't say it, and he doesn't have to, but you know he is very very relieved to know that his closest friends are in no real danger. You are relieved to know it, too.

"Well, i guess that means she was right, huh?" You poke his side," should go back to keep her continue?"

"No, definitely not," Remus responds quickly," I'm never ever going there again."

You chuckle at his response, but you understand him completely.

"Now come on, dove. Let's go find out what happened to that pretty unlucky friend of mine," Remus takes your hand and starts to walk towards Sirius, eager to find out in what kind of trouble did Sirius get again.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin

[daddymilker691]

Well my revered readers of Londons most bohemian and relentlessly sought after newspaper The Daily Milker we are back of course a recent bout of Covid has I’m afraid put rather a damper on things and not wanting to pass it on to my wonderful Co Editor Dawn Green we closed our Holborn studios for the week still feeling the after effects somewhat it really has a way of kicking the old proverbial bottom as our American so eloquently put it anyway so we opened up our studios yesterday darlings to our wonderful page five stars there are now so many it’s almost impossible to put them all in one edition but I shall strive to appease both our hungry readers appetites for these wonderful stars⭐️ and their own desires to be a page five ⭐️ , it’s been a dim and rainy day here in Holborn and actually in London as a whole indeed Dawns had to put the heating on I did suggest Dawn put on a fur coat but from the back room came the reply I don’t get paid enough well enough of the sauntering monologue I hear you say get on with it ok so here goes first off as always the wonderful Dawn Green our Co Editor wearing that in winter it’s no wonder you get cold Dawn next we were visited by the very lovely Petra no stranger to the Daily Milker but it’s been a while and as always in fine form and looking fabulous after the delightful photo shoot Petra caught the bus back to Wandsworth with a big smile and a page five ⭐️ badge , next was the one and only Jodie Hot Sauce who has sent me many get well soon messages what a lovely thing to do thanks Jodie your a staple star ⭐️ of the Daily Milker and we here all love you next after I’d had a coffee and a bit of a rest Dawn sipped on a cocktail only to inform me that Happy Little Lucy had just arrived at Heathrow and was in a Taxi on way to our studio all the way from Canada probably one of the only places colder than London what a Canadiandoll a vision in Polka Dots we made Lucy feel very welcome and took great delight in warming her up , we are hoping Lucy becomes a regular here , next the lovely leggy and fun Cindy Lace arrived you could have knocked me down with a feather when I heard Cindy say trick or treat I said get in for heavens sake before you catch a cold Dawn set up a Haloween themed background and Cindy showed me a trick and I got quite a treat ( ouch Dawn ) , next was the lovely Sandra Clapham who was somewhat late and then I noticed Dawn wasn’t about I thought to myself I know what’s happened and sure enough found them in the Queens legs discussing the different deniers of stockings Sandra showing Dawn a new suspenders belt I joined them both for a quick pint before we departed back to the studio as a brand new page five star only Monica , only I thought under my breath I congratulated Monica on the forethought of bringing an umbrella as it was pouring but did somewhat doubt of how much rain it would keep off, next was the lovely sweet Sue all the way from Manchester rather tired but given time to relax of course in our very special green room looking amazing and left with a smile lastly it was lovely to have Madison back . Before I finish the post I’d like to thank all you page five stars and the wonderful Dawn Green and if you haven’t made it on this issue please don’t think you won’t on the next we would have done a double if was feeling more up to it love and peace and thanks to all who follow the Milker ( never be nasty when you can be nice ) xxx

[the-s1lly-corner]

Can you do like, Caine with a reader who is just super needy and touch-starved? like a reader who just keeps following him around and begging for physical affection and compliments. and if he so much as hesitates they hit him with the puppy dog eyes

Caine x needy!reader !

Today finally wraps up my baking streak ! Tomorrow I do have a single order; cranberry orange scones ! But since it's only one thing I'm not including it in my baking grind thing

Yahoo! Next few days are likely going to be me recovering because YALL my body hurts sm, 13+ hours of constant cooking and baking for 3 days straight

Anyways, anon I hope you enjoy!! I'll work on some requests tonight before going to bed

You're in luck because Caine is almost always hovering around you and trying to shower you in love

While I dont think hes overly clingy, he is very.. VERY vocal about how much he loves you

I'm talking this man will monologue to you about how much he loves you, will tell others how amazing you are, showers you in affection and gifts

The works

There wouldnt ever be a day where he doesnt remind you how much you mean to him

With that said, in regards to his function as the ringmaster of this circus, and needing to organize IHA and keep things running, he would prefer some alone time to be able to do that

Makes it very clear that hes going to come back as soon as hes done with what it is he needs to do, and he never ever gives you a reason to thimk hes lying

Because he truly does return to you as soon as he can

In fact he even teleports to your side

Point is, hes gonna make sure you get more than enough attention than you're craving

If you ask for a simple act hes going to put his entire coding into it!

Bonus because I just registered the puppy dog eyes bit; should he ever take more than a second to make up his mind on anything (very rare when it comes to spoiling you) he would immediately cave

Like if there were any chance of him saying no its greatly diminished

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x you #caine x reader #caine imagine

[hbyrde36]

for @penny00dreadful

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 <-

Chapter 4: No Place Like Home

WC: 5496 | Ch 4/4 | AO3 <-

It was a surprisingly smooth landing as Steve was brought into the highest tower of the Witch’s castle through a large open window, caught in the exceptionally strong grip of the two flying monkeys who carried him there. 

Eddie had arrived the same way only a moment or two ahead of him, and was now struggling against his own guard monkey's hold, trying to get to Steve while being dragged out of one of the room’s two doors.

“It’s so kind of you both to visit me in my loneliness.” The Wicked Witch cackled, standing in the middle of the chamber next to a huge crystal ball, the image displayed within it fading before Steve could suss it out. 

“What are you gonna do with Eddie? Where are they taking him?!” Now that his feet were on solid ground, Steve tried to fight back, but couldn’t seem to shake his captors.

The Witch waved a dismissive hand. “Never you mind about that.”

“Give him back to me!” Steve raged.

“Certainly, certainly, as soon as you give me those slippers.”

Steve swallowed hard, hesitating. He knew what Eddie would probably say, that it was a terrible idea to give her even more power—to give her what she wanted. 

At his silence, she turned, addressing a few more of her little monsters that were waiting on standby around the room. “Very well. Boys?”

The flying monkey’s ears perked up. 

“Hurt him.”

Steve braced himself as The Witch’s henchman quickly moved to follow her command, but it wasn’t him they were coming for, instead they raced out the same door Eddie had just been forced through.

“No!” Steve shouted, willing to risk anything if it kept Eddie safe.  “Take the damn shoes, I don't care! Just don’t… don’t hurt him, please.”

She shot him a cruel grin, and the monkeys holding him finally let go, backing away as she stalked closer. “That’s a good boy.” 

Steve snarled, briefly considering kicking her right in her smug face as she bent down, but thought she might be less likely to let Eddie go if he did. 

Begrudgingly, he held himself still as she reached out her hands, but before she could even lay a finger on the shoes, there was a flash of light, a spark like electricity crackling, and a force lashed out to zap her. 

The Witch jumped back, hissing. “Curse you!”

“That wasn’t me! I swear!”

“No, but I should have known. My sister must have put a spell on them. They’ll never come off… as long as you’re alive.” She circled him slowly, tapping the end of her pointed chin. “Now the only question is how to do it.”

“Oh for the love of—” Steve scrubbed a hand over his face. “Just kill me if you’re going to kill me, alright? Why do you people always have to drag shit out?

“What people?”

“Bad guys!”

She huffed, straightening her cloak. “These things must be done delicately, or you hurt the spell.”

“They're always monologuing about their evil plans too. I mean, what’s up with that?” Eddie’s voice rang out from where he had suddenly appeared in the doorway behind The Witch, somehow having given his guards the slip.

She stomped her feet. “I don’t mono—” She began, then gasped, spinning around. “How did you get free?!”

Steve wracked his brain to come up with some kind of distraction, anything to keep her busy long enough for them to get away. 

“Hey, Witch!” He called out as he squatted to pick up the massive crystal ball he’d noticed on arrival, even heavier than it looked, and began to carry it towards one of the  windows. “You don’t need this for anything important, right?” 

“Put that back! It’s priceless!” she shrieked.

“It’s pretty heavy, I don’t know if i can–” Steve cut himself off, pretending to stumble, and tossed the ball as hard as he could, hoping she’d try to catch it.

She dove, and in an impressive show of strength and dexterity managed to get under the ball before it hit the ground, preventing it from breaking. She looked stunned from the fall, the weight of the crystal pinning her to the ground for the time being.

Steve made to run to Eddie’s side, but just then, the other set of doors burst open and half a dozen very tall foot soldiers in ornate uniforms, furry helmets, and with the same bright green skin as their ruler, spilled into the room, rounding on Steve and cutting them off from each other. 

“Just go!” Steve shouted.

Eddie shook his head, eyes darting from the door behind him to what he could see of Steve between the soldiers. “I’m not running away and leaving you here!”  

“Get out and find help! It's not running away if you’re coming back, right? Now— go!” 

“Damnit, Harrington.” Eddie cursed, taking a few stumbling steps towards the way out. “I am coming back.”

“I know.”

With one last tortured look Eddie took off, his pounding footsteps echoing as he ran through the hall and down what sounded like a set of stairs. Half the guards took off after him while the others remained with Steve, backing him into the wall.

Steve craned his neck, near enough to a window to peer out, hoping to catch a glimpse of Eddie’s escape and know first hand that he’d gotten away. 

“Come on, come on,” he chanted quietly to himself, even as the soldiers started trying to pull him back over to The Witch, who was unfortunately back on her feet again. The castle doors began to close as he watched, and for a second Steve thought all hope was lost, but then he spotted it—moonlight shining on dark curly hair, slipping through the opening just before the door slammed. 

Steve’s heart leapt, and he finally let himself be led back over to The Witch. No matter what else happened here, at least Eddie had made it. 

“You’ve been more trouble to me than you’re worth, brat!” 

“Heard that before.” Steve mumbled to himself. He didn’t fight as the hands on him shoved him down into a chair, figuring it was smarter to save his strength for now.

“But, it'll all be over soon,” The Witch added as she snatched a giant hourglass off a nearby shelf, flipping it over onto the table in front of him. “That’s how much longer you've got to be alive. When the sand runs out, I'll have made my preparations.”

With that, she and her soldiers left, locking both doors up tight, leaving him alone in the tower.

Steve didn’t waste time wondering why he wasn’t tied down or handcuffed, and was out of his seat in a flash. First he checked the doors because, duh, but they were, indeed, locked. He then ran back over to the window, wondering if he’d survive the drop. It didn’t seem likely—even if he did, there was no way he’d walk away from that kind of fall without needing serious medical attention, and he had yet to see a single hospital in Oz. 

His next move was to search the room for weapons, something to break the doors in, or anything he might be able to use to climb down. The curtains proved to be useless, moth bitten and too slippery to really tie together, and apart from a chair leg he managed to break off that doubled as a wooden stake, he found nothing else useful to defend himself with. 

Time passed slowly.

And yeah, Steve had been through a lot in his life, but he’d never been kidnapped before. He never would have imagined it could be this… boring? 

There was only so long you could stand at attention, waiting for your captor to come back before your eyelids started to droop. He wound up sitting at the windowsill, head resting on his arm as he gazed out at the night sky, letting his mind wander. He didn’t really believe this was the last night of his life, he’d survived too much to be taken down by some psychotic pea-soup looking bitch, but any hope he had of seeing home again was gone.

He thought back on all the time he’d wasted—squandered opportunities to tell the people he loved just how much he loved them, the number of times he blew Dustin off to go on a date with some girl he couldn’t give two shits about, all these months since Vecna with Eddie, unable to accept his own feelings, and too afraid to admit them aloud. 

He was so lost in it all that he almost didn’t hear the sound of someone pounding on one of the doors. Reasonably sure The Witch wouldn’t be knocking in her own castle, he ran to it, pressing his ear to the wood. 

“Steve?!” A muffled voice shouted from the other side. 

Eddie!

“It’s me, yes! In here!”

“Stand back, I’m going to chop through the door!”

Steve stepped back, watching in awe as the wood slowly splintered away with each blow, until finally he could see Eddie’s face through it, distantly thinking it looked like he had some sort of animal resting on his head. 

A few more chops and there was a hole big enough for Steve to squeeze through. 

Once on the other side, he saw that Eddie wasn’t alone. The Tin Woman, The Scarecrow, and The Lion were all with him—all dressed like The Witch’s soldiers.

“Costume change?” Steve asked.

“Long story.” Eddie let out a shaking breath as he tore the fuzzy hat from his head and flung it aside, managing to shrug out of his big coat just in time to catch Steve as he threw himself into the other boy’s arms. 

“I wasn’t sure I'd ever see you again.” Steve whispered with his face pressed into Eddie’s hair. 

“You didn’t think I was really coming back?”

“I knew you’d try, even if I hoped you wouldn’t.”

Eddie squeezed him tighter. “You’re such a self sacrificial ass.”

“Takes one to know one.” Steve pulled back, punching him lightly in the shoulder before turning to The Scarecrow, drawing her into a quick hug too. “I can’t believe it, you’re really okay?”

“Might be missing a little stuffing here and there but, these two did a great job getting me back in one piece.”

Their reunion was abruptly cut short by shouts in the distance.

“We gotta get out of here!” The Lion roared.

“What about the broom?” Steve said.

Eddie grabbed his hand. “She wants to kill you, Steve, fuck the broom! We’ll find some other way home.”

The group of them flew down the stairs back towards the way they’d come in. By some miracle they didn’t see a soul along the way, but as they raced across the foyer, just before they reached the exit, the doors swung closed, right in their faces.

“Going so soon?”

Steve turned at The Witch’s voice, spotting her standing on a balcony above looking down at them, laughing, as soldiers began spilling into the space from every direction. They were surrounded, though oddly none of the green men actually attacked, only approached slowly and menacingly.

“That’s right,” The Witch praised her guards. “Don’t hurt them right away, we’ll let them think about it a little first.”

Steve rolled his eyes. 

Eddie raised the ax he still held, as though he would take on the entire brigade himself, but The Scarecrow snatched it out of his hand. 

“What the–” 

She swung it around, chopping and cutting a rope tied to the wall that Steve hadn’t even noticed, and sent a giant chandelier falling from the ceiling to land on a large group of the soldiers. 

“Good thinking!” Steve said, and they used the momentary distraction to flee, running up a different set of steps to get away since it was the only path that was clear. They had no idea where they were going, and up didn’t seem likely to lead out, but they had little choice now. 

The soldiers unaffected by the chandelier attack gave chase, and the five of them ran down corridor after corridor before finally spilling out onto the battlement, a part of the wall where soldiers patrol. It was a dead end and quickly they found themselves backed into a corner, soldiers on both sides, The Wicked Witch among them. 

“Well,” she sing-songed as she zeroed in on Steve, “ring around the rosie, a pocket full of spears. Thought you’d be pretty foxy didn’t you? Well the last to go will see the first four go before him.”

Eddie leaned into Steve’s side, whispering, “What the hell did she just say?”

“I have no idea.” Steve said.

“I think she’s going to kill the rest of us first and make you watch.” The Scarecrow guessed.

“Right you are, Scarecrow. So how about a little fire?” The Wicked Witch raised the head of her broom up to one of the many torches that ran along the length of the wall, lighting it.

There was no way Steve was letting her anywhere near The Scarecrow with that thing, she’d go up in seconds and unlike being disassembled he was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to come back from that. He lunged for the broomstick before she could lower it, grabbing it in the middle and fighting for control. 

The next thing Steve knew he was being soaked in water like he was a contestant in a wet t-shirt contest.

The fire was put out instantly, the broomstick clattering to the ground as The Witch started screaming bloody murder. 

“Look what you’ve done! I’m melting! Who would've thought two pretty-boy-brats like you could destroy my beautiful wickedness.”

It was only water—from the now empty bucket Eddie was holding that he’d found god knows where—but as though she’d been dipped in the most corrosive acid known to man, The Witch began to sizzle and smoke, and truly did melt away into a puddle on the stone floor, leaving nothing solid but her clothes behind.

“She’s dead, you killed her.” One of the soldiers blurted out.

Steve hovered, trying to shield Eddie, unsure of how this was going to play out. The witch might have been gone, but they were still sorely outnumbered if her henchman’s loyalty extended past the grave. 

But Eddie wasn’t having it. He remained in front, tilting his chin up. “Honestly, it was an accident, but she did try to kill us first, so—fair is fair.”

There was a moment of absolute silence before the entire army, monkeys included, let out a deafening cheer. “Hail to Steve and Eddie! The Wicked Witch is dead!”

Eddie looked back at him, jaw dropped, and Steve could only smile.

When the cacophony died down, Steve approached the first soldier who spoke, supposing he might be the leader or general or something. “The broomstick, can we have it?” 

“Yes, of course! Please, take it with you.”

After a short reunion with a certain stunned-to-see-them-still-alive guard, fresh off what must have been an epic frolic through the poppy field and subsequent mystical slumber—if the state of his very red and heavy lidded eyes was any indication—Steve, Eddie, and their companions once again entered The Wizard’s throne room.

“Why have you come back?!” The deep voice of the Wizard rumbled through the air.

“We did what you asked.” Steve said simply, holding the Witch’s charred broom above his head.

They all waited with bated breath for some kind of response, but were met with nothing. After a few long moments Eddie took the broomstick from Steve and stepped forward. 

“The Wicked Witch is dead, and uh, we brought you the broomstick.” He cleared his throat loudly, unceremoniously tossing the burnt bit of wood in the direction of the dais. “So, make with the wish granting, yeah?” 

“I’ll have to give the matter a little thought. Go away and come back tomorrow.” The voice eventually responded.

“Tomorrow?!” Eddie snapped.

Steve shook his head, hands balled into fists at his sides. “But we wanna go home now!”

“We did everything you asked!.” The Tin Woman argued.

“Yes! At least send them home! They deserve it after performing such a great public service!” The scarecrow added, staring defiantly up at the floating head. 

As the others jumped in to help argue their point, Eddie began to look around the room, searching, and beckoned Steve to follow him. They quickly found something odd tucked in a dark corner that seemed not only out of place, but frankly looked like an obvious control center of some sort hidden behind a green curtain. How hadn’t they noticed it before?

Together they crept closer, each grabbing one side of the cloth, and on a silent count of three…

“Do you dare to criticize the Great Oz? Think yourselves lucky that I'm giving you an audience tomorrow instead of twenty—” 

…Flung the curtain back to reveal a young girl, about their age, with red hair, a bowler hat, and an all around Molly Ringwald vibe.

“...years from now.” 

She swiveled in her chair as she finished her sentence, the words a strange mix of the booming voice they’d been hearing, and her actual voice coming through as her mouth got further from the contraption she was using to alter it.  

“Ah, shit.” The girl, bearing an uncanny resemblance to Robin’s almost-girlfriend Vickie, sighed as she spotted the two of them, realizing she’d been caught in the act.

The others came over to join the party just as Eddie got up in her face. “Who the hell are you?” 

She looked down, fingers playing with the hem of her top. “Would you believe… The Great and Powerful Oz?”

“What a scam! You’re a phony!” Steve shouted.

“I am, yes.” Her shoulders slumped. “These are all tricks I learned working with a magician at the State Fair.”

Eddie fumed. “You sent us on a suicide mission!”

“And I'm very sorry about that!” She said quickly, holding her hands up. ”In my defense, I didn't actually expect you to go after The Witch, I thought if I gave you an impossible task you would just give up and not come back. Then my reputation could stay intact.”

“I suppose this means no brain for The Scarecrow, or heart for me, or courage for The Lion?” The Tin Woman said. 

“You don’t need me for that, you already have all those things. Think about it, Tin Woman. Was it not for the love of your friends that you helped them to get here, and to defeat the Wicked Witch? Someone with no heart wouldn’t do that.”

The Wizard smiled, rising from her chair, facing The Lion next.

“And you, Lion. What, you think just because you’re afraid that makes you a coward? You still did it, you still stood by your friends. See, the trick isn’t to not be scared, it’s to be scared and do it anyway. That’s courage.”

The Wizard turned lastly to face The Scarecrow and audibly gasped, her face turning an incredibly bright shade of red. “You, um, you helped to argue your friend's cases well, and I-I think it’s quite clear that you have a-a brain.” She paused, swallowing hard. “A b-big gorgeous brain, with, just—so many thoughts. I… sorry I don't usually—”

She trailed off, completely flustered and unable to look away from The Scarecrow’s face. 

For a moment The Scarecrow looked equally entranced by the Wizard, but then she frowned, looking back at Steve and Eddie. “But, what about the boys? They want to go home.”

The Wizard bit her lip. “Well, I might have a way to get them there, but it would mean taking them myself, never to return.”

“Will you?” Eddie asked.

“Of course,” She said hesitantly, looking from him and Steve to The Scarecrow and shook her head. “I—of course. I used to live in Indiana too, y’know. I was working at the fair, like I said, and one morning the boss asked me to test the propane tanks in the hot air balloon. I didn’t know what I was doing but it seemed easy enough. Damn thing took off on me, and just never came down. I got caught in a wind storm and landed here in Oz, came up with this ruse about being a Wizard and, well, you get the idea.”

“Do you still have the balloon?” Steve asked.

She grinned. “How do you think we’re getting you home?”

-

Steve and Eddie finally leaving Oz turned out to be a grand spectacle, with every citizen wanting to thank them for ridding their lands of not one, but two Wicked Witches, in such a short span of time. Even Glinda had made the journey to see them off. 

The balloon was set up in the middle of the square, and as The Wizard checked and re-checked her equipment, Steve and Eddie set about saying their farewells.

They hugged The Tin Woman and The Lion, and while It was difficult to say goodbye to them, it was nothing to the way Steve felt about leaving The Scarecrow. He had his own Robin, his best friend, waiting for him back home, but he felt connected to this version of her almost as strongly. 

It didn’t help that he’d seen the way she and The Wizard had been looking at each other since the moment they’d met. 

“Alright boys, ready to go?” The Wizard asked, looking sad.

“No,” Steve answered, turning an apologetic look on Eddie. “I can’t. I can’t ask her to leave forever, not if…”

“It’s okay, Steve. I saw it too. I want to go home, but I feel terrible.”

“Maybe Glinda can help?” Steve said.

One mention of her name and suddenly The Good Witch was right beside them, as if she’d been waiting for this moment. “You don't need to be helped any longer. You've always had the power to go back to Hawkins.”

Steve blinked at her. “I have?”

“Then why didn't you tell him that before?!” The Scarecrow asked. 

“Because, Steve had a few things he needed to figure out first. Isn’t that right?”

Steve gulped, giving her wide eyes.

“I don’t get it.” The Lion said. 

The Tin Woman shushed him, patting his hand. “I’ll explain it to you later.”

Eddie tilted his head. “What does she mean, Steve?”

“Well, I-I.” Steve stammered, eyes darting between Glinda and Eddie.

The Good Witch smiled, nodding encouragingly. “If you are ready to accept the truth, those magic slippers will take you home in two seconds.”

Steve but his lip. “Eddie too?”

Glinda laughed, high and bright. “Of course, Eddie too. Now stand together, and facing each other.”

They did what she asked, and while he remained quiet, Eddie was giving him that curious look again. 

“What do I have to do, are there, like, magic words?” Steve asked.

“There are lots of magic words, Steve, but to get home you need only close your eyes, tap your heels together three times, and show the truth that is in your heart.

There was only one way Steve could think of to show the truth, so…

He took a deep breath, closed the space between him and Eddie, and crashed their lips together. His eyes fell shut as Eddie kissed back, melting into it—and as Eddie threaded gentle fingers through his hair, Steve clicked his heels together, three times.

-

“Steve?”

Eddie’s voice rolled over him out of the dark, tinged with concern. 

Steve groaned, disoriented, his neck aching from the angle it was at, and he could feel a bit of drool drying on his chin. 

“Stevie, wake up.” This time Eddie gently shook his shoulder, and Steve’s head snapped up, eyes popping open wide. He looked around wildly, confused to find that he was slumped in a chair behind the desk at Family Video—but it didn’t matter where they’d landed, he supposed, the shoes had worked, they were back!

“Did he fall asleep again?” Robin’s voice called out from directly behind, and Steve spun around so fast he knocked his chair over, which in turn knocked over a small stack of tapes.

He ignored the mess, pulling her into a tight hug. It was really her! No straw, no burlap, just a sweatshirt she’d stolen from his closet two nights ago, with her work vest over the top. 

She shook her head like he was an idiot, but hugged him back anyway before letting go to set the chair back on its legs. “I was only in the back rewinding returns for half an hour!”

“Oh,” Steve breathed, finally registering what she’d first said, and felt suddenly lost. He could have sworn it was real, but Robin wasn’t freaking out the way he knew she would have if he’d disappeared for an entire night and day…

Or was it two? 

The more he thought about it the less sure he was of how long he and Eddie had been stuck in that colorful other dimension. 

If—if he had been stuck in another dimension. 

Robin said he’d been asleep, and he was just slumped in his chair at the desk at the end of his shift, and there Eddie was, right in front of him looking amused, if a little worried, and… and wearing a completely different shirt than he’d had on as they trekked through—

Oh.

Eddie, who was here to pick him up for their hang out because Robin was borrowing his car.

Steve groaned again, rubbed his temples. “I had such a weird dream.” 

“Was it a nightmare?” Robin asked.

It was a fair question, and something they all experienced from time to time even this many months out from their final dealings with the Upside Down. But this…this had been something wholly different.

“I’m not sure.” He settled on, yawning as he fought to think through the fog that was slowly lifting from his brain. Had it really all been in his head? A dream, a fantasy?

“Some of it wasn't very nice, but—” He glanced at Eddie again and felt a blush spread over his face. “Most of it was beautiful.”

“You were there.” Steve continued, giving the other boy a little nod. Eddie’s lips twitched into a crooked smile. 

Steve turned to Robin next.  “You were too—and Nancy, and Jonathan, and Argyle, and—” he trailed off, trying to remember everyone else he’d encountered along the way.

Eddie chuckled. “Did Robin make you watch The Wizard of Oz on repeat again?”

Steve froze.

Oz, yellow brick road, Munchkins…

He was such an idiot.

“It was slow this morning!” Robin lashed out, defensively. And you know I’m seeing Vickie tonight, I needed my comfort movie to settle my nerves!”

“Yes, I am well aware of your impending date, Buckley, hence me and my van being here to play chauffeur.”

Steve checked the time, he still had about fifteen minutes until he could officially lock up and clock out. “You’re early.”

Eddie shrugged. “I still have to pick us a movie for tonight. You go do your closing duties, or whatever, I'll be perusing the stacks.” 

Steve couldn’t tear his eyes away as Eddie walked off. He could still remember the other boy’s fingers pushing into his hair, gently cradling his head as they’d kissed—how his lips had felt so incredibly soft.

He wondered if it would be the same in real life.

“Steve… did you OD over there?” 

Steve startled as, once again, Robin's voice came from directly behind him, though much softer this time. He took her hand, pulling her to the other side of the room. 

“Do you remember that thing we talked about?”

She scrunched her nose. “Which thing?”

Steve sighed, speaking low. “You know, the… how some people go both ways, thing?”

She gasped, grabbing his arm, and looked back over her shoulder to where Eddie was still browsing, before whispering, “Do you mean…?”

Steve nodded, unable to stop his mouth from spreading into a wide grin.

“Are you gonna tell him tonight?!”

“Yeah, I think so.” Steve bit his lip. “Well, that, or maybe just stick my tongue down his throat the second we’re alone.”

Robin snorted. “And they say romance is dead.” 

“Okay smart-ass, how do you think I should go about it?”

“I think—it doesn’t matter what you say or do, because that boy is just as crazy about you as you are about him.”

“I hope so.” Steve looked down, wringing his hands. “I really like him. I-I might even–” He trailed off, too afraid to finish the thought even though he knew it was the truth.

“I know, dingus.”

At the other end of the store, tape in hand, Eddie began to make his way to the counter.

Robin gave Steve a little push towards the break room door. “You go splash some water on your face and change. I'll get your man checked out.”

“Not mine yet.”

“He will be. I’m proud of you, Steve.”

“Thanks, Robbie.”

As much as he’d joked to Robin about just going for it, Steve spent the whole drive to the new Munson trailer trying to compose the perfect speech to tell Eddie how he felt, but by the time they arrived he had nothing to show for his efforts but sweaty palms and anxiety.

Should he have just reached over the center console, taken Eddie’s hand, and hoped he got the hint? Maybe he shouldn’t make such a big deal out of it. No, no. Steve was supposed to be good at this! Eddie deserved more, he deserved the perfect moment. 

“You, uh, planning on coming inside?”

Steve sucked in a breath, snapping to attention, and realized Eddie had already gotten out of the van and come around to open the passenger door.

“Sorry.” Steve’s face grew hot as he climbed out of the van. “Guess I'm still feeling a little out of it from falling asleep earlier.”

Eddie frowned, reaching up to feel Steve’s forehead with the back of his hand. 

“Are you sure that’s all? You do feel a little warm.”

“I’m fine.” Steve ducked his head, throwing off the touch, though what he really wanted was to lean into it, and followed Eddie inside.

Eddie went right for the kitchen, throwing the bag from Family Video bag on the counter before diving into the fridge, digging out two beers.

Steve tried hard not to stare as Eddie bent over, reaching for the bag for something to do instead, and pulled the single tape out, flipping it over to the cover. 

“Seriously? Return to Oz?”

Eddie turned, grinning as he took a sip from his own bottle, sliding the other one towards him. “Come on, that's funny!” 

Steve huffed a laugh and tossed the tape back onto the counter.

“And, y’know… it’s a good movie.” Eddie went on, grin slipping a little as he set his beer down and rubbed the back of his neck, looking away—looking nervous, Steve realized. He realized something else too—there was never going to be a perfect time, or a perfect way to say what was in his heart. He knew how he felt, and he was pretty sure he knew how Eddie felt now too, or at least his subconscious did. Now he just needed to take that leap of faith.

“I know you don’t really like all the horror stuff me and the kids usually make you watch, and since it’s just the two of us I figured—” 

In the middle of Eddie’s adorably flustered ramble Steve stepped around the kitchen counter, took the other boy’s face gently between his hands, and crushed their mouths together.

Eddie went very still under his touch and Steve quickly pulled back, panicked for a moment that he had it all wrong, until Eddie wound his arms around him, gripping the back of his shirt as he pressed him into the counter, and suddenly Steve was the one being kissed.  

And what a kiss it was.

At the first brush of tongue Steve smiled into it, unable to contain his joy because Eddie had kissed him back! 

When they finally pulled apart again, Eddie blinked hard, looking dazed. “Shit, Steve, am I–am I dreaming right now?”

“God I hope not.” Steve went right back in, winding his hands into Eddie’s hair as their lips met again and again, their bottles of beer forgotten, left to grow warm on the counter. 

-

Later that night, when the movie was over—not that they’d seen much of it—after they’d actually talked and made their relationship official, and made out so much that Steve’s lips were sore, they curled up in Eddie’s bed together. 

As he burrowed deeper into Eddie’s side, and Eddie wrapped his arms around him even tighter, Steve let out a contented sigh. 

Dorothy had it right—there really is no place like home.

Thanks again to @pearynice and @hitlikehammers for all your help with this!

#steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie wizard of oz #adventures in following the yellow brick road with your crush #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie #gift fic

[evieismol]

GT Big Bend - Chapter 28: Friends (and more?)

Word count:~1300

Cw: cursing, light angst

Easton pov

I stifled a yawn as I glanced at the time on my phone. It wasn’t terribly late, but I still hadn’t adjusted to the conparitively shorter human nights. I was beginning to think I never would. I heard a familiar buzz at the door - the human door, of course. I raised an eyebrow. John didn’t use the doorbell, plus, he was already here. I couldn’t think of anyone else who would be coming by unannounced. 

Maybe Zoey would? I felt my heart skip a beat at that thought, and pushed it from my mind. Might as well put the mystery to rest, I thought, going to the door that was my size and opening it. It only took a fraction of a second to spot the three small figures by the door, and as soon as I did, a wide smile spread across my face. 

“Easton! Hi!! It’s been forever!” Larissa called, waving. I knelt down to be relatively closer to them. 

“What are you guys doing here? I didn’t think you were arriving until tomorrow?” Not that I minded - it had been years since I had seen Larissa, Kyle, or Ruby in person. 

“We wanted to surprise you!” Kyle responded. “So…surprise!” 

“The IMA agent you work with - John - helped us plan it,” Ruby added. 

If I could have seen my own expression, I was pretty sure it would have been equal parts surprise and excitement. 

“Well, it worked. Surprising me, I mean. You guys look great - how have things been? How was the trip?” I realized I was rambling, but getting myself to stop was a harder task. 

“The trip was good,” Ruby said. “Uneventful, which I guess is how you want travel.” 

“Yeah, no portals to other planets or anything,” Kyle added, referencing how I’d met them back on my home planet after they’d fallen through a portal. 

“That’s probably for the best,” I said, laughing softly. “Do you guys want to come in? I’m sure travel was tiring even if it was uneventful - there’s a human sized elevator behind that door that takes you up to my desk, basically, and then there’s walkways too, or I can pick you up. Oh, and any luggage you have, of course!” I glanced over at the duffel bag that sat beside Ruby. 

“Well, I kind of want to try the elevator - that sounds pretty cool,” Larissa said. She looked between Kyle and Ruby. Kyle nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, that works for me.”

“I’ll go with Easton,” Ruby said. I vaguely recalled her mentioning a fear of elevators at several years prior, and wondered if that played a role in her decision. 

“Cool.” I lowered my hand to the ground a few feet in front of Ruby, opening my mouth to begin my normal spiel, then stopped. “I usually do this whole monologue with tourists about staying in the middle of my hand and stuff, but I guess you know the drill.” 

“Don’t fall to my death?” Ruby asked. Despite knowing it was a joke, the thought of that still made me cringe. 

“Sorry,” she added, picking up on my unease. “Maybe not the best joke.”

“No, it’s fine - just, not a fun thought,” I said with a nervous laugh. Not a fun thought was putting it lightly. I was 100% sure I’d never forgive myself if any human - let alone a close friend - was hurt because of me. Let alone killed. I cleared my throat, trying to get my mind off of that track. “Did you want me to take the bags too?”

“If you wouldn’t mind, we’d appreciate it,” Larissa said. 

“Not at all,” I responded. John was waiting on the table near the human walkway when I returned inside. He smiled upon seeing the three humans, Ruby in my hand and Larissa and Kyle stepping out of the elevator. 

“Surprise!” He said. He turned to look at the humans.  “It’s great to meet you all in person,” he continued, extending a hand to the three humans and introducing himself. 

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Larissa said. “In person instead of through a screen, anyways.”

John laughed. “Call me old fashioned, but I still prefer it that way. I hope the trip here was nice?”

“It was pretty chill,” Kyle affirmed. “We’ve really been looking forward to getting to see Easton again.”

“And him you, he hasn’t stopped talking about you guys coming to visit,” John said. I gently lowered Ruby to the table as they continued to make small talk. After a few minutes, John glanced up at me. 

“Well, I was going to run into town this evening, give you all time to catch up and get settled in,” John said. “Am I right in assuming you’re still ‘camping’ in here?” 

The topic of where Ruby, Kyle, and Larissa could stay had been a point of discussion in planning their trip, and it was eventually decided - after Kyle suggested it - that they could just camp on the table near the human walkway. It was a bit unorthodox, but Ruby had pointed out they’d previously spent several months basically living on my nightstand in Aphiria, which was considerably more unorthodox. Plus, there was a human sized bathroom up the walkway, next to John’s apartment, so there weren’t any major logistical reasons it wouldn’t work. 

“If it’s still alright with Easton,” Kyle said. I nodded. 

“Yeah, of course. It’ll be like old times!”

“The good ol’ days,” Larissa agreed with a laugh. After checking in about that, John wished us a good evening and headed out. 

“He seems cool,’ Ruby said, moments after the elevator door closed in front of him. 

“He is,” I agreed. 

“Okay, so, what’s been going on in your life? How is the park? What’s it like living on earth - being the one that’s the wrong size for a change? How are your coworkers?” Larissa didn’t take a breath as she ran down the list of questions enthusiastically. 

“How is he supposed to answer any of the questions if you’re asking them that fast?” Ruby said, chuckling. 

“Right. Sorry,” Larissa said. “I just got excited.”

I took a careful seat in the table across from the desk. “The park is gorgeous, it’s really beautiful here. Earth in general. But it’s kind of terrifying being…very much not the right size. Though, probably a different type of terrifying than it would have been for you guys.” That was probably an understatement, given that on my side I had to be concerned about breaking something, while they would have had to be concerned about something - or someone - breaking them. “And my coworkers are generally nice. So are the tourists.”

“I bet you’re the first Aphirial any of them have met,” Kyle said. 

“Probably a safe bet,” I said. 

“Ooh, how’s that human girl you mentioned hitting it off with? Zoey?” Ruby asked. 

“She’s good, I think. She got a job at the gift shop here, so I guess she’s sticking around for a while.”

“Well that’s good news for you,” Larissa said. “So, is she cute?”

“What?” I felt blood rush to my cheeks at that simple question, and tried to hide how flustered it had managed to make me by looking down. That worked poorly, given that the humans were all below me anyways. Larissa laughed. 

“You’re blushing - oh my god, do you have a crush on her?” She asked teasingly. 

“Of course not,” I said quickly. Way too quickly - god, I was bad at this. Whatever this even was. “She’s a human-”

“What, us humans aren’t good enough for you?” Kyle asked with a short laugh. 

“No! No, I didn’t mean it like that, I fully think humans are equal to aphirials-of course-that just came out wrong.” If I’d felt flustered before, it was now a thousand times worse. 

“Hm, I dunno, you said that awfully fast,” Kyle teased. 

“Cut it out, Kyle,” Larissa. “You know that’s not what he meant.” 

“I just meant like - I don’t have a crush on her-” I ignored the look Larissa gave me and continued, “but even if I did, there’d be like…a kind of concerning power imbalance? Like if I did like a human, which I don’t, I wouldn’t want them to feel pressured into anything or something because I’m, well,” I gestured at myself. “Like half the humans I met, actually, probably more like 70% of the humans I meet, are at least a little scared of me already and what if I told a human that I theoretically had a crush on that I did and then they didn’t feel the same way but felt like they couldn’t say that and-and there’s just a lot of potential problems there,” I ended lamely. It went without saying that this was something I had been thinking about a lot, especially recently. For no particular reason, I kept telling myself. 

The four of us were silent for a moment. 

“...You’ve put a lot of thought into the subject for someone who doesn’t have a crush on a human,” Larissa said finally. 

I sighed. 

Fuck. 

#g/t #giant/tiny #gt #sfw g/t #gt sfw #g/t oc #gt writing

[toomuchracket]

new matty video giving just found out my gf is pregnant d word matty

people also said mads literal d word 🥹 and Mads I need Mattys reaction to the baby and he’s gushing about them over to d word Girly backstage after the show. 🥹

this is pretty much exactly what i thought of too!! the way his eyes just widened and softened when mark pointed out the baby... i'm emo. like you could just tell how pleasantly taken aback he was to see them there at his show - i thought it was really cute how he held the parent's (?) hand, and then tentatively touched baby's little headphones before heading off. and yeah, as soon as matty gets backstage after the show he's snuggling into you to tell you allllllll about it; you can't help beaming, because he's so excited at first like "babe, they were so little! just in one of those baby carrier things with those massive headphones on! fucking adorable. not a clue how old they were, but i hope they remember tonight, somewhere deep in their little brain. imagine being at a 75 show as a baby! how fucking cool!", and then he sighs and stops talking for a minute in lieu of smiling contentedly. he moves his arm so it's around your waist rather than your shoulder, so he can put his hand on your stomach and rub it slightly, kissing your head like "i can't wait until that's us, darling, taking our baby to shows. been thinking about it since glasto, but tonight just made me want it even more". you turn your head and make a kissy face, and matty obliges you with a little peck, before you're like "i like the sound of that too. a lot. and i like the thought of you in the crowd with a baby carrier strapped to you. s'cute" - matty teases like "dare i say, a bit dilfy, too?", and you laugh and say "i mean, i'll think that about anything you do after baby gets here. but i just have this vision of you dancing around a little bit with them, waving their little arms and making them giggle, and it's more adorable than anything else". i think that would make matty go all weepy and start one of his "god i love you so much i'm so excited to be doing this with you thank you for loving me and carrying our baby i can't wait to raise them with you" monologues, and then when you get back to the hotel/tour bus he's definitely spending the evening playing different songs with the speaker next to your stomach "just to establish some sense of taste in our baby, darling, and figure out what gigs they might enjoy when they get here" (despite the fact you aren't even a third of the way into your pregnancy yet) lmfao. so cute so soft so lovely <3

#mads answers asks #matty asks #fluff asks #d word matty #literal d word #moots <3 #satvb

[wordbunch]

rivals to lovers with Elrond

a/n: this little thing was requested, and I hope I made it enjoyable! 😊 let me know how it was, and consider reblogging if you liked it - it means a lot and gives me motivation 💕

okay so you’re one of the closest advisors of the high king Gil-Galad, and you and Elrond spend a lot of time in each other’s vicinity

which is not necessarily always a good thing - you found that you two butt heads a lot, and you don’t always see eye to eye

shooting each other dirty looks from across the hall

he is persistent and you are headstrong, doesn’t always pair nicely

both of you are so witty and smart and it just feels so great when you give him a quick, sharp reply and sometimes he can do nothing but give up, gulping and looking down

like yes you can recognize that he’s very intelligent but sometimes he’s just wrong in his opinions (he thinks the very same thing about you)

sometimes you have to almost bite your tongue to stop yourself from answering back in a very formal setting/meeting, and your cheeks literally burn from the inside

Elrond learned your facial expressions over time and he just looks at you in those moments and subtly smirks (more often than not, you notice; you think he’s relatively easy to read once you pick up on certain mannerisms)

once you caught yourself looking at him so attentively you almost forgot how to blink when he was having a long, passionate monologue about some pressing issue; and he had to collect his thoughts a couple times during speaking, he was suddenly finding it difficult to focus with your keen eyes fixated on him

you brushed off the thought of him being especially alluring when he got passionate about stuff

during one meeting with the king, you two literally started bickering in front of everybody else, and this time it was Elrond who had the perfect clap-back to a suggestion of yours; you almost gasped

Gil-Galad had eventually had enough of your antics and he made the two of you work together in hopes of finally getting along (also he was just slightly amused and wanted to see how it will play out between the two of you)

you groaned, putting your head in your hands, while Elrond muttered something to himself - starting the following day, you’ll have to play nice, or at least try to

how would that even be possible? he made your blood boil and your pulse quicken 

eventually you two met up after breakfast the next day, hoping that the whole ordeal would be more tolerable after having some good food

it might have actually been the first time the two of you were alone with each other, and the realization only hit you when you started to speak and he made shameless eye contact with you, suddenly becoming aware that there was nobody else around to look at

his eyes were…beautiful

your voice, he’d discovered, was actually softer than he remembered

you made his blood boil and and his pulse quicken

you were the first to start talking and elaborating on your ideas, and for the first few moments he was focused only on the way that your lips moved as you spoke and the ways that your eyes sparkled in the late morning sun

“have you even been listening to me at all?” you asked him incredulously, frustrated by the situation: you thought you’d made a really good point, but you were almost certain Elrond was only half aware of it

before he even had a chance to respond and try to justify himself, you continued

“if you ever paid attention to what i say, instead of shamelessly staring at me, maybe you would have noticed we share a similar perspective” you raised an eyebrow at Elrond, who was hoping that his cheeks weren’t a bright pink shade already

“forgive me,” he squeezed out, his voice only subtly cracking, “I cannot help but admire such a captivating person”

you were the one who fell quiet in that moment, but relatively soon you had a reply at the ready

“i think,” you began, cautiously leaning closer to him, “that I will forgive you. this time.” you couldn’t help but to smile a little bit, as Elrond exhaled

“very well then,” he said in a low voice, his face tantalizingly close to yours, “because i will need you to forgive me for this as well”

then he finally closed the teasing distance between the two of you as he put a hand on your cheek and pressed his lips against yours; firstly it was a careful, hesitant kiss, but as soon as you wrapped your arms around him in response, he let himself get lost

maybe you were making each other’s blood boil and pulse quicken. maybe in more ways than one. and maybe you were more than okay with it.

>

trop/everything taglist: @lotrnonsense​ @starlady66​ @lazymeriadoc​ @entishramblings​ @thesolarangel​ @averys-place​ @valkyriepirate​ @noldorinpainter​ @asianbutnotjapanese​ + a huge thanks to everyone who joined, I’m so happy you enjoy my writing <333

#elrond x reader #elrond headcanons #elrond imagine #trop fanfiction #trop fanfic #the rings of power imagine #the rings of power x reader #trop x reader #rings of power imagine #rings of power headcanons #rop imagine #trop headcanons #from my pocketses

[ariadne-mouse]

This is my review of all the villains in the final shot of the late-game intro sequence for campaign 2. It is very, very serious, data-driven analysis. Extremely analytical.

First up:

ornate metal mantle. welcoming smirk. confident. will probably tell me they've "been expecting me" and deliver a solid monologue. 8/10

owl bear, large and cuddly and nailed the menacing stare 7/10

manticore, very pointy, excellent smiling and bonus she can roast marshmallows on the longer quills 8/10 (p.s. she's looking for a babysitter)

a very mean echidna-pangolin mix with stubby legs sorry buddy you are TOO cute 4/10 I hope you get adopted to your forever home soon

"yes-yes-YES" skull meme energy, happy to be here, probably practices his evil laughs in a very tall mirror, 8/10

gravity-defying hair and more than the average number of limbs, she spent 30 minutes putting on her shoes this morning and she's not here to play games 9/10

just a leetol guy who is 80% mouth. keep it up you're doing great, next apocalypse you'll get to stand in the foreground 5/10

tall, grumpy, knows how to fold his arms to make his biceps pop. boldly styled mullet-hawk. 7/10

a gargoyle cat with medusa-style shoulder snakes?? 10/10 autocrit

very prepared, brought his own hardware. nipple piercing(s?). well-kept beard. trees fear him 8/10

left head thought they were going grocery shopping, right head thought they were going to the DMV, now they're here in this flash mob and honestly just so confused. i'm sorry my poor little angels have some headache tea when you get home 3/10

literally just a bunch of floaty eyes. i think the middle one is winking at me. flirty and audacious, 9/10

#this concludes my extremely scientific analysis #critical role #c2 #op #it's shitpost season my friends #(every season is shitpost season)

[whumpy-wyrms]

The Last Lab Rat #3: Surreal

previous | masterlist | next

content: lab whump, medical whump, captivity, accidentally getting outed as trans (dw nothing bad happens), gender dysphoria, nonsexual nudity, needles, top surgery, noncon drugging, manipulation mention, trans whumpee, intimate/creepy whumper, whumper as caretaker

when the whumper can excuse unethical experimentation but draws the line at gender dysphoria. there’s gonna be actual whump in the next chapter i swear, just had to get this stuff out of the way first :>

—

Dew waited until he heard Anton leave the room before he got in the shower. He was happy to have his binder off, but it was still terrifying not knowing what the future will be like for him here.

The bathroom door had no lock, which kinda sucked. He tossed the mud soaked hospital gown on the floor and hid his binder in the cabinet under the sink.

Anton seemed so upset at his poor attempt at an escape. Dew had never been so afraid of the mad scientist, well, it’s not like he knew him for that long anyway. How long had he been here? Two days? He’d get out of this soon, he was sure of it.

But he couldn’t stop that voice in his head telling him he’d ruined his only chances of escape. Anton had mentioned a punishment earlier, was he planning on hurting Dew every time he went against him?

Dew couldn’t stop his mind swarming with the terrible things he saw earlier, trying to block it out by the sound of the water raining down on him. After he washed all the mud off of him, he sat down and curled up in the corner, legs to his chest, feeling the water pour over his head. He didn’t want to think about this, didn’t want to think about being a mad scientist’s lab rat.

It was hard though, when that’s all he really could think about. What was this freak going to do? He hadn’t even started experimenting on Dew yet but he was already terrified. The suspense of not knowing was killing him. Dew tried to ignore it, tried to remind himself he wasn’t going to die here and he just had to wait for his next moment to escape. But how long would it take for that moment to come? How many experiments would Dew have to endure before he’d get another chance?

Dew’s internal monologue was interrupted when he heard the bathroom door open. Dew’s body went rigid, he felt like a deer in the headlights, staring at the shower curtain in the direction of the door, hoping Anton wouldn’t come near him.

“Don’t mind me, Dew,” Anton said nonchalantly. “I’m just replacing your clothes, I’ll leave in a sec—” There was a noise, as if a cabinet door was opening, and a confused hum. Shit.

“A-Anton?” Dew squeaked.

“Yeah, uh,” Anton stood, holding Dew’s binder. “I didn’t know… you’re trans?” Dew’s heart skipped a beat, his stomach dropping and feeling like his entire world was over. “Uh, I’ll go get you some other clothes… be right back.” The door shut, and Dew was left alone once again.

The suspense itself was killing him, if not the fact this captor literally knew Dew’s other only weakness. What would happen to him now? Dew tried to let the pressure of the water raining down on his head drown out his thoughts, but it seemed he just couldn’t stop worrying anymore.

Dew’s spiral was interrupted once again when he heard the door open, and more shuffling on the other side of the curtain. He didn’t dare say anything unless he wanted it to come out as incomprehensible sobs.

“I put some different clothes on the counter,” Anton said. Dew couldn’t decipher his tone, it sounded normal, if not a little awkward, but he never had any idea what the man was thinking. If he didn’t know any better, it sounded like his captor was a bit remorseful. “I’ll uh, talk to you when you’re done?”

Anton once again left Dew alone with his thoughts. He didn’t know what he preferred more, honestly. Being alone, his mind thinking of all the terrible things that could happen to him, or being around his captor, where those thoughts could easily become reality.

The only thing Dew could really do was be done now. The water was starting to get cold, and he didn’t want to anger the scientist any more by taking too long. He peeked his head out the curtain to see a baggy sweater and sweatpants. Different from his other clothes, but much better than what he was wearing before. He put them on, and stared at the door.

Dew was tired. He wasn’t going to wait anymore; he had to face what he did, who he was. He had to get it over with, whatever it was that Anton was going to do to him. It’d be over eventually, and Dew could curl up under the bed again.

When he opened the door to see Anton staring at him, sitting cross legged on the edge of the bed, Dew crumbled. Pretending to be strong was so hard when all he felt was fear.

“J-just let me go, please!” Dew cried, falling to his knees. He couldn’t do this anymore. He wanted to go home. He’d do anything at this point. “It’s— you don’t want me. I-I have too many problems you’d have to deal with, it would be too much of a hassle! J-just let me go and t-take someone else to use as your test subject, p-please.” He knew it was selfish, but he didn’t care at this point. He didn’t want to be a lab rat.

“Dew… I’m not mad,” Anton said. Dew still couldn’t read his tone, nor his facial expression. What was he gonna do to him? “And obviously I’m not letting you go either, you learned that earlier. And frankly I’m getting tired of repeating myself.”

Dew let out a small sob, but otherwise stayed silent, eyes drifting away. He felt Anton’s stare, his eyes felt like lasers burning into him, the events of earlier hitting him like a truck. He tried to escape, and he was so close.

“I don’t know what terrible thing you thought I would do if I knew you were trans, but I’m not like that. I’m not a monster.” Pretty ironic coming from the guy who kidnapped someone with the intent of turning him into his lab rat. “If you need like, hormones or something, I’ll give you that. You’re my test subject but you’re still human. I want you to stay happy and comfortable for the most part, you know? This factor would just interfere with the experiments.” When Dew still didn’t answer, Anton sighed. Which made Dew flinch, which made Anton feel even more… guilty?

“…If it makes you feel any better, I’m trans too.” Anton had never come out to another person before, besides his mentor.

“Really?” Dew’s head snapped up, surprised. He had certainly never expected that to be his reaction.

“Yeah,” Anton sighed. “And it’s not healthy for you to wear that binder for that long, you should know that.”

“…Yeah I know.”

“Okay,” Anton rolled his eyes. “So why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why didn’t you ask for help?”

“Because you’re a fucking weirdo scientist who kidnapped me.”

“Seriously—”

“I want my binder back- please.”

“No can do, Dew. Sorry, I had to get rid of all your old clothes.”

“What? Why?”

“Relax, I can get you a new one if you really need it, though, you know, top surgery would be more optimal.” Dew could not believe what he was hearing.

“Wait, you could get me top surgery?”

“Yeah, I performed it on myself years ago. It’s no big deal really, I have lots of serums that make healing go faster, and makes everything less painful too. I know what it’s like to be dysphoric—”

“I want it.”

“You sure?”

“Yes! Yes I want it.”

“…I guess I’m not in a huge rush to start the experiments just yet…” Dew stared in disbelief. Was this real? Was this a trick? “But Dew, there’s something else I need to talk to you about.” Oh. Just as fast as Dew’s weird excitement came, it was gone and replaced with dread.

“W-What?”

“You tried to escape earlier.” Shit. “I was going to punish you for it, but I changed my mind.”

“O-oh…” Dew gulped.

“That was your freebie, any other escape attempt, or attempt to hurt me, or attempt to communicate to anyone outside, you’ll regret it. Is that clear?”

“Y-yes,” Dew shuddered under his gaze. No way in hell was he giving up just like that, but he’d keep his thoughts of escape to himself now. He just had to wait until the right moment came.

. . .

Anton “scheduled” the surgery for tomorrow, whatever that meant. It’s not like he had a real job or other responsibilities. Dew wondered how this guy could even afford a place like this, with all this expensive equipment and science stuff. Were his experiments being funded by an outside source? Oh god, that was a terrifying thought, the government being behind all this. Dew would have to ask about that later.

Everything felt so surreal. It always had, but now it was different. He didn’t know what he expected from his captor anymore, not after today.

Anton had told him he wouldn’t “punish” him for trying to escape earlier, pretending to understand what he was going through and that he’d “been there.” But he also warned, in his usual cryptically threatening ways, that if Dew makes any more escape attempts, there will be consequences. And that he didn’t want to know what Anton would do to him.

He also remembered earlier, when Anton was showing Dew all of those terrible experiments and lab equipment, and hinting at all of the terrible things he would do to Dew once he starts experimenting on him. He remembered what he was really here for, and that terrified him. No matter how “kind” Anton sometimes seemed, for some reason, he was still a stranger who wanted to hurt Dew. He was still the guy who took him from his friends and home.

And now he wanted to give Dew something he’s always wanted, his whole life, that he never expected to get, at least anytime soon. He worked a dead-end minimum wage job; he couldn’t possibly afford anything like this, and now it was being handed over to him like it was no big deal— from his abductor, no less. It didn’t make any sense. Anton took Dew’s life away, but he still wanted to keep him happy and comfortable in his body? His body that was surly to be changed by these experiments anyway? What was the point of all this?

Maybe it was because Anton’s trans too, and it would be easier for him if Dew was comfortable in his body. It’d be easier for him if he gave something Dew had always wanted, so he’d have some leverage over him— some reason for Dew to be in his debt. Dew knew that his captor wanted him to trust him, to be compliant in being experimented on, for some demented reason. But Dew wasn’t going to let that happen. He wasn’t ever going to give up his freedom for this guy, hell, he didn’t even know what the scientist’s goal was for him.

But now Anton had suggested that Dew get top surgery, and who was he to decline an offer like that? Dew knew it was probably a way to manipulate him, but he didn’t care. He’d always wanted this, and now, even if it was a sick and twisted way, he was happy he was getting it. He was still planning on not sticking around this place, escaping the next chance he got. But he also wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity. Maybe if he kept learning more things about Anton, or vice versa, he’d keep going easy on him.

After all, he needed Anton to trust him, if he was ever going to get a chance to escape.

Dew didn’t know what time it was now, but it had to be pretty late. Anton told him he’d leave him alone for the rest of the day, that he should rest from the events from earlier. He tried that, but his mind was too active. He obviously couldn’t rest knowing what was going to happen to him tomorrow, so he was once again alone with his thoughts for a few hours until he heard the familiar footsteps coming towards the room.

Anton unlocked the door and walked in, holding a sandwich and some water. Dew hesitantly looked up from his spot on the bed, still terrified of the man.

“Here,” Anton said, holding the food out for Dew to take it, who chose to glare at the scientist instead. “Seriously? If I wanted you drugged, I’d just stick a needle in your arm. Just eat it.” He emphasized that by ripping a part off the sandwich and eating it himself, showing Dew that it was safe. He wondered how much longer Dew would be stubborn about not trusting his food.

As Dew ate, Anton kept staring. He did that a lot, Dew noticed. Dew tried to stare back, but the eye contact was way too uncomfortable sometimes.

“You really don’t talk much, do you?” Anton asked.

“I dunno.”

“When was your last T shot?” Shit. Dew wanted to avoid this today, but he supposed it was inevitable. He knew he needed to stay on schedule, but he really didn’t want this guy around him with needles, even for good reasons.

“…A week ago.” There was no point in lying about it though.

“Oh, so you need one today, then?” Anton asked. Dew nodded. “Alright.” The scientist left the room, locking the door behind him, and arrived shortly after with the stuff.

Dew, excited for something familiar in his routine since all this happened, was also terrified because that scientist was holding a needle again. The only other person he’d let give him his T shot was his doctor the first day, and then only he could. It was still hard for him, having to inject himself with a needle, but it was better than anyone else doing it.

Dew reached out to take the syringe, “I can do it,” he said.

“Dew, you’re shaking. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“W-well I don’t want you to do it!”

“Why not?” Was it really not obvious?

“I- It’s my T shot, I’ve done it like a million times before! I’ve been doing this for over three years now— just let me do it.”

Anton knew how scared his test subject was of needles, for reasons he didn’t understand. He supposed it would be easier to let Dew do it, considering he’d done it all those times before. But he still didn’t want Dew to get away with everything he wanted. His test subject would have to learn to do as Anton says.

“I’ll do it. You need to learn not to resist me. I won’t always go easy on you like today, you know.”

“Fine,” Dew said through gritted teeth. “Just get it over with.”

“We also need to work on your little fear of needles you have.” Anton said, prepping the needle and bringing it closer as Dew flinched. “It certainly makes things much harder than it needs to be.”

“I get it.” Dew sucked in a shaking breath as Anton rolled up his pants to expose his thigh. He was shaking in fear, he realized, Anton was right about that.

“Why are you so scared of needles anyway?” Anton asked as he plunged the needle into Dew’s leg.

“I- I dunno.” Dew squeezed his eyes shut, wishing this would go faster. Anton’s grip tightened on him as he leaned away, trying to stop the tears from flowing.

“Weird.” When Anton was done, he stood and started to leave. Dew let out a sigh of relief, finally alone.

“Asshole,” Dew whispered under his breath, thinking Anton couldn’t hear. That wasn’t the case, as the scientist suddenly whirled around and took Dew’s wrist in a grip, turning his test subject to face him.

“I let your escape attempt earlier slide because you’ve only been here only two days, and I… felt a bit of remorse. Gender dysphoria’s a bitch, so I’m trying to get rid of that obstacle for us. But know, I can do anything to you. You’re still just my test subject, know your place. If you try to escape, you will wish you didn’t.”

“J-Jeez okay, s-sorry!” Dew stuttered. Anton released his grip and exited the room.

“Get some rest, big day tomorrow.” The scientist said, shutting the door and locking it behind him.

. . .

Dew could hardly sleep that night, his mind racing with thoughts of the surgery. It was really happening, wasn’t it? A part of him knew he shouldn’t trust his captor, especially with something like this. What if he was lying? What if it was a trick to get Dew to agree to some terrible experimentation? Dew had to admit, it didn’t matter if he thought Anton was lying or not, because he was still going to accept that offer. There was a small chance that Anton was telling the truth, that he’d give Dew something he’d wanted all his life, and Dew wasn’t going to decline.

Besides, if Anton was that desperate to experiment on Dew, he could easily force his test subject to do anything without being able to stop him.

Dew realized it had to be Monday by now, and that his friends and coworkers were sure to notice he was gone. That gave him some hope, that maybe he’d be rescued soon. He just had to keep waiting it out, as he kept telling himself. He’d see Hayden, Layla and Sawyer again soon, and maybe tell them what he’d been waiting to for so long. He didn’t realize how much he missed them.

Dew didn’t get a lick of sleep that night. He was used to nights like that, he’d always been a sort of insomniac. He hoped Anton wouldn’t notice, but that was unlikely. It was morning before he knew it, and the clicks of the locks took Dew out of his racing mind.

Dew didn’t wait under the bed after Anton entered the room this time. He timidly crawled out before Anton said anything, too full of energy to stay still any longer.

“Big day, Dew.” Anton said with a big, unsettling grin on his face. “You excited?” Dew gulped. What was he thinking, trusting this maniac like this against his better judgment?

“Y-yeah,” Dew said. “I guess.” Anton’s eyes narrowed, looking his test subject up and down.

“Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Um, n-not really?”

“Huh. I’ll deal with that later. C’mon, let’s go then.”

“W-wait, I wanted to ask something, i-if that’s okay.” Dew fidgeted nervously with the hem of his sweater, and when Anton made a ‘go on’ gesture, he continued. He made sure to choose his words slowly and carefully. “I know I… I remember what you said yesterday. But um- I uh, I’m wandering if I can make a phone call? To- to tell my friends I’m okay… I d-don’t want them to worry about me. I miss them.”

That was at least half of the truth. Anton looked in a much better mood than yesterday, so maybe he’d recognize Dew’s sorrow and let him say goodbye to his friends, hopefully not realizing that Dew’s real plan was to somehow tell them he was in trouble and get someone to track the phone call.

“Dew,” it turned out that Anton had seen right through Dew’s half-assed plan, suddenly looking serious with his cold gaze locked onto his test subject. “Forget about them. Your home is here now, you’re not leaving. If I have to repeat this one more time, you’ll regret it. Understand?” Dew looked away, shuffling on his feet and trying to think of anything to say to convince his captor to go easy on him.

The silence seemed to anger Anton more, grabbing Dew’s chin in his hands, tilting his head up to look at him. It was intense, every time Dew made eye contact with the scientist, it was intense. Something about him, something about his eyes- it didn’t feel human. Dew didn’t know how to describe this feeling, but it terrified him. He felt like prey cornered by a predator, as if it was playing with its food. He remembered Anton asked him a question, and quickly nodded his head before he could scare him further.

“Say it. Say it and mean it.” When Dew hesitated, Anton moved his hand to rest on his test subject’s throat, squeezing lightly. It didn’t hurt, but the threat was known.

“I-I won’t leave,” Dew forced out, his mind screaming at him not to let himself believe it. “I won’t try to escape or- or contact anyone for help. Or ask to contact my f-friends, or anything like that.” When Anton still looked at him expectantly, Dew knew what he had to say next, though he was never going to mean it. “I-I’m your test subject now. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Good,” Anton released his grip and turned away towards the door, seemingly going back to normal as if none of that terrifying encounter had just happened. “Let’s go already.”

Dew followed Anton out the door, after he took the chain off his ankle and tied rope around his wrists and ankles this time, so he wouldn’t run. Dew was too sleep deprived and strangely excited to care about that terrifying lack of mobility out there, causing him no way to escape.

Dew once again reminded himself this was probably a manipulation tactic, and the odds were more than likely Anton was just going to preform some fucked up experiment on him instead. He remained cautious, glancing to the exit, reminding himself of yesterday. Reminding himself the same plan wouldn’t work, he’d have to think of something different another day, when he got a different chance.

They arrived at that operating table, and Anton stood to the side, gesturing Dew to lay down, to which he timidly did.

“So, um, h-how are you gonna do this?” Dew asked nervously as Anton walked around the table, picking up a few restraints. “It- it won’t be painful or anything, right?”

“You won’t feel a thing,” Anton said, smiling as he started restraining Dew to the table. He strapped his arms and legs down, making it impossible for his test subject to move. Once Dew realized what was happening, his struggles came too late, the terror of his situation finally catching up to him.

“W-What’s with the restraints?” Dew asked, voice shaking. He almost didn’t want to know the answer.

“It helps me relax,” Anton said nonchalantly, moving out of Dew’s line of sight.

“Okay, that makes absolutely zero sense, but whatever.” Dew tried to calm his nerves, but it felt impossible when all he could think about was this all being a trick to get him to agree to being directed like some alien’s research specimen.

“Calm down, I won’t hurt you, you know.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Dew continued struggling against his better judgment, hating being restrained like this. “Th-This isn’t a trick, right?”

“Dew, if I wanted to experiment on you, I’d just do it. It wouldn’t matter if you agree to it or not, because you’re mine. But no, this isn’t a trick. I’m not like that. You want top surgery, right?”

“Yeah!—”

“Great, then stay still.” Anton brought another dreaded syringe in Dew’s line of sight, and he held his breath in anticipation. Of course he knew this was coming, and he honestly sighed with relief knowing he’d be knocked out soon. He realized Anton could easily just operate on Dew while he was fully awake and conscious, feeling every cut, incision, and pain that came with it.

Dew closed his eyes as he felt the injection, and slowly started drifting away. The last thing he heard before succumbing to the anesthetic was a soft, “Goodnight, Dewey,” and then he was out.

. . .

Dew woke up a few seconds (hours) later, back in the room he’d been stuck in, lying snugly in bed and covered in the softest of blankets. His mind was groggy, and he could barely sense someone standing over him. There was pain, but it was dull, hardly noticeable. He honestly felt comfy there, relaxed and warm and without that blinding fluorescent light that would always shine in his eyes.

Right.

Dew slowly opened his eyes and tried to move into a sitting position, but found his body far too weak, and also felt a strange weight off his chest. That made sense. He felt a firm hand moving to hold him down to the bed, telling him he needed to rest. That was probably a good idea.

When Dew’s mind cleared enough to remember what was going on, he almost couldn’t believe it. His chest was flat, they were gone. He had just gotten something he’d always wanted.

Then why was he filled with so much dread?

Dew should be happy. He should be relieved. No more gender dysphoria. No more hiding in oversized hoodies or being forced to wear a binder all day. He was finally in a body that felt like his, he wasn’t trapped anymore. But yet he was, in a completely different way.

He should be with his friends right now, laughing and smiling and celebrating. Hayden would be holding his hand with his pet ball python on his shoulder, cheering him up and lightening the mood as he always would. Layla would be lovingly info-dumping about a special interest of hers, as usual, but in a way that made him feel loved as well, with her cat purring in his lap. Sawyer… He’d definitely be there too, cracking jokes and playing video games in the corner, too awkward for his own good, but that’s what Dew loved about him.

But that wasn’t what was happening. Dew was all alone and afraid in a scary place with the man who kidnapped him. He wasn’t with his friends, he wasn’t celebrating or eating cake or hugging his friends or listening to music. He was alone.

His friends must’ve been worried sick. Dew wondered if anyone was looking for him. He didn’t know what to feel, he’d always wanted this but… not like this. None of it was right, he didn’t belong here and he had to leave. He had to tell everyone the good news, he had to tell them that he—

Anton was in the room, and Dew almost felt like he could hear his spiral. He forced himself to calm down and stop thinking about home, it was too painful right now. He needed something real, something tangible to latch onto, otherwise he’d deteriorate.

“I’m th-thirsty,” Dew rasped. That was a good start. Focus on anything else.

Anton handed him a glass of water that must’ve been on the nightstand, and Dew gulped it down eagerly, ignoring the sudden sleepiness he felt, and the way his eyelids felt far too heavy to keep open all of a sudden.

. . .

The next week was spent with Dew resting in bed, relying on his captor for everything, and it felt humiliating. He absolutely hated it.

The scientist told him that the healing process would go much faster than usual, because of what could only be described as some sort of healing potion he had concocted. Dew didn’t care for science, and he certainly had no interest in listening to Anton explain it, much less trying to understand what he was explaining.

But he was right, the recovery was quick. Though, Dew was filled with drugs and painkillers and even sedatives, after he resisted succumbing to the sleepy effects of the healing concoction and falling asleep.

What was worse, was that when Dew was awake, he could hardly move anyway. The first few days of recovery was spent relying on Anton for everything. Being hand fed food, water, having to be carried to the bathroom, he hated being so dependent on the guy holding him captive.

It was a few days after the surgery, when Anton came into Dew’s room to feed him. Dew hated to admit it, but he was starting to get lonely by himself, and started to look forward to when Anton would come to see him. It wasn’t like he had anyone to talk to or anything to do besides stare at the ceiling and count the seconds.

“You hungry?” Anton asked, a bowl of chicken noodle soup in hand.

“Yeah,” Dew said, getting used to this new routine. He was excited for when he’d finally be recovered enough to do, well, anything for himself again. And sleep under the bed, away from the open space, bright lights, and the scientist.

Anton sat at the edge of the bed and helped Dew sit up, taking a spoonful of the soup and raising it to Dew’s mouth. He hated this, it was excruciatingly hard not to curse his captor out whenever he fed him like this, but he realized it only helped gain Anton’s trust. Which of course, he needed.

Dew sighed and moved his mouth to the spoon, eating the contents of it. He felt like a doll Anton was playing with, or some animal he was training to be nice and docile, not the wild animal yearning for freedom that it was.

Dew learned to just let Anton do what he wanted, and it was easier to just get it over with than let it ride out forever. Arguing with the scientist never worked, so what was the point? When Dew was done eating, instead of Anton getting up to leave, he began to speak.

“It’s been a few days, you probably need a bath, huh?” Hell the fuck no.

And then Dew was being carried to the bathroom, helped out of his clothes, and gently set in the bathtub. He hated absolutely everything about this. The scientist seemed to not notice- or care- about Dew flinching as he raised his hands to Dew’s head.

“Relax, Dew,” Anton said gently, carding his hands slowly through Dew’s fluffy hair as he washed it thoroughly. Dew hated that he let himself lean into the touch (he blamed that on the drugs), the only nice touch he had gotten since he’d been thrown into this place.

It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. He was almost fully submerged under the water, his body not visible under the bubbles. Dew closed his eyes, imagining himself anywhere else, with anyone else doing this to him. He felt a warm rag slowly wiping away the grime on his face, wincing as he let it happen. He couldn’t help but find it relaxing when Anton poured warm water over his head, rinsing away the shampoo from his hair.

And then it was time for Anton to check how his body was healing, which was fine with Dew because he didn’t really feel any gender dysphoria anymore. After the bath, Anton helped Dew stand and gently wrapped a towel around his body, and used another towel to dry his hair off.

It all felt so surreal, once again. Why was his captor being so nice to him? Why did he care so much about how Dew felt about any of this, about his mental well being? Was he trying to manipulate Dew into wanting to stay here? Because it was… Not working.

Sure, it was nice. And Dew didn’t remember the last time he’d been treated like this, without having to worry about responsibilities like work or chores. But he was still being held against his will. And he could not let himself forget about his status here, as a test subject. As the week went on, and that healing stuff did its magic, Dew was only filled with more dread for the future. He could tell that Anton was getting antsy too, excited to finally be able to start experimenting on his little lab rat.

Besides eating, using the toilet, and the few baths he was given, Dew spent most of his recovery from the surgery unconscious. He argued against it, but Anton told him it meant the healing potion— what Dew chose to call it— was doing its job.

Dew guessed it could be worse. He was kinda happy he was unconscious for most of his recovery, in a strange way. Dew hated being in pain, and sleeping it away basically meant it was never there to begin with. He didn’t like the fact that he was losing count of the days though, and was more than frustrated that Anton refused to give Dew a calendar.

It was about a week and a half since the surgery, and Dew was already fully back to normal. He reminded himself that he was supposed to be scared of Anton, and started sleeping under his bed again to avoid the guy. Whatever terrible experiments the scientist was planning would surely start soon, and Dew was more than terrified. He just hoped they wouldn’t be too painful, and that he’d get out of here soon. Maybe this whole experience would just end up being free top surgery and a small vacation from work, and then he’d get rescued and could forget any of this ever happened. That would be nice.

One more thing lingered in the test subject’s mind. He didn’t understand why Anton was so adamant on taking his clothes and belongings away from him. It wasn’t like he was too picky about what Dew wore now anyway, just a few different sweaters and sweatpants when he wasn’t bedridden in recovery. But there had to be a reason, right?

Dew hummed some of his favorite songs to himself, missing his music. Despite everything, he hated being alone. He couldn’t stop thinking about his friends now, wishing he had spent more time with them the week before he was taken. He just wanted to go home.

—

this chapter was not very whumpy but like, necessary for the story and stuff. now that the boring stuff is out of the way, the test subject can actually start being experimented on soon :) fun stuff.

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