#it was a bad time my dudes filled with a lot of murder

[some-triangles]

I am now at a level of obsession with Disco Elysium where I am watching at least a little bit of every playthrough I come across. Last time this happened was with Undertale almost a decade ago. With UT this helped me get a very thorough handle on the way the game was designed and with the subtler bits of player manipulation. DE is not subtle about anything and so instead I'm getting insights into the people playing it, particularly as it spreads beyond the youtube leftist bubble.

The one I'm having the most fun with right now is by this guy named Brady, who is a therapist specializing in addiction. The fun part is not so much his insight into Harry as an addict - again, the game is not subtle - but his absolute discomfort with politics. He refuses to engage with any of the ideological choices, and that makes the game a bit of a bumpy ride for him. It's particularly striking because he's willing to read into everything else that goes on in Harry's brain - he breaks out his Johari windows and his CBT flowcharts and pins the butterfly right to the corkboard - but he shuts down when the game asks him to pick a side.

To extrapolate wildly from one dude's hangups, I think this is just part of the deal with therapy. The aim of a therapist is to make the subject more functional (particularly these days, when if you're lucky insurance will pay for ten sessions, and you better document exactly what worksheets you made your patients fill out) - and being functional means being able to be happy and productive in the society you're currently living in. If I go to a therapist and say I'm bummed out about all the murdering my government is doing they will suggest I stop watching the news, or, if I'm lucky, they'll try to help me figure out why I feel guilt about things I can't control. Delving into the whys and hows of said murdering is actively counterproductive.

This is not to say that therapy is inherently bad, or, like, counterrevolutionary, because making you a more functional person does help with a lot of things, including your ability to help others. It's just a useful thing to keep in mind when therapy and politics bump into each other. I read this paper when I was googling ABA for podcast reasons and it stuck with me. The thesis boils down to: because the world is imperfect and people need skills to live in it we should continue to torture children, and we don't have enough research to conclude that torture could be traumatic. This is on one level reasonable and on one level insane. It depends where you stand, and whether you think "ability to express affection towards parents" is worth that kind of intervention. But the authors wouldn't construe this as a political argument.

Anyway: with all this in mind, I very much recommend reading "The Saint of Bright Doors", which we will be covering on wizards vs lesbians soon.

#disco elysium #the saint of bright doors #in the ways therapy can be helpful category Brady also points out how Harry sees everything in terms of power dynamics #which I never noticed because I also do that. I wonder why??

[jjunberry]

HE LOVES ME NOT ˚* ❀ part five ✎

y/n couldn’t wait for her date with heeseung. in fact she was so excited she wasted no time getting to the restaurant. it was across from the park. y/n loved this place because he took her here on their first date. the host of the restaurant took y/n to her table and gave her menus. “would you like a drink while you wait for your guest?” y/n nodded and ordered a water.

she felt so beautiful and on top of the world tonight. that is until she noticed the time ticking by. heeseung was known to run late but not half an hour late. the sweet waitress kept offering her more water and seeing if she was ready to order. “not yet, he should be on his way.” the waitress started to feel bad, y/n could tell.

she texted heeseung countless times asking if he was coming, when he’d get there. until an hour passed and reality sunk in. he wasn’t coming. y/n left money on the table for her water and a tip for the waitress being so kind. then she bolted out the door to the park across the street.

—HEESEUNG’S POV—

he had been out with jay since they left lectures. alcohol filled his system and he and jay danced around the room and talked to different girls. jay shoved another drink in heeseung’s hand which he gadly accepted.

“dude i’m so lost.” jay slurred. heeseung laughed. a group of girls approached the pair. they had the shortest dresses and their breasts were pushed up to their chins. they were some of the older girls on campus. “hey boys, so this is where you ran off too.” jay laughed wrapping his arms around one.

she pulled him to dance. heeseung chuckled and took a drink of his liquor. the other girl smirked and stepped closer to him. her hands ran down his chest. “dance with me?” she asked. her voice low and seductive. his mind was fuzzy and the last thing on it was any thoughts of y/n.

he followed her. his hands on her waist hers around his neck. she got closer, their bodies practically glued together. before he could even question his actions her lips were on his. he kissed her back. “take me home?” she questioned. he smirked and the pair left the bar.

—Y/N’S POV—

y/n sat on the cold park bench. tears streaked her face as she picked the petals of a daisy. “he loves me.” she picked another. “he loves me not.” “he loves me.” more tears fell as she picked the last petal. “he loves me not.” she threw the stem to the ground.

violent sobs wracked her body. of course she should of known. “hey, are you okay?” she jumped looking up. a boy stood there with a worried expression. he was wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. he looked kind. “not really no.” she answered. “mind if i sit?” he pointed next to her. she shrugged scooting over.

the boy sat next to her. “no one tried to hurt you did they?” “no.” he nodded. “this is probably weird, uh my name’s jake.” he stuck his hand out. y/n placed her hand in his and shook it. “y/n.” he smiled. “why are you crying?” she let out a shaky laugh. “well my boyfriend stood me up again.” jake’s eyebrows furrowed.

“again? if he’s doing this why are you dating him?” y/n sighed. that question is asked a lot. mostly by her friends. “i love him.” she answered. “yeah but, nevermind its not my business.” he said. y/n sighed thankful she didn’t have to sit through another he’s bad for you speech.

“look i was supposed to pick up my friends from the bar but they both took cabs with girls. let me take you home.” jake said he stood and offered her his hand. she took it and stood. “thank you.” she whispered. he smiled.

jake pulled up outside of her dorm. she placed her hand on the door handle. “thank you for being so kind to me tonight, and not being an ax murderer.” he laughed. “of course. hey before you go could we exchange numbers? i’d like to hang out with you sometime.” she smiled and added her contact in his phone.

she leaned down into the window of the car. “thanks again jake. see you around.” he waved and watched the make sure she got inside safely.

when y/n was finally in the comfort of her dorm she shed her dress and changed into warm pajamas. she texted the boys to tell them she was home and would explain everything tomorrow. she also opened heeseung’s contact she stared at the unanswered messages from earlier before opening the message she received from jake.

masterlist

tag list ˚* ❀ @jjunieworld @304files @mrchweeee @sionshiii @kayleeshinee (if your name is bold i couldn’t tag you)

author’s note ˚* ❀ jake’s here!!!!!!! and everyone celebrated

love, echo🖤

© jjunberry

#🌼he loves me not! #enhypen social media au #enhypen smau #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #lee heeseung #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung imagines #jake sim #jake sim x reader #jake sim imagines #kpop social media au #kpop x reader #kpop writers #imagineyour-kpopboy

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Week 2023

May 26 Prompt: Together/Established Relationship

Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 6, Day 7

@steddie-week

Steve takes a shaky breath as he watches the news on TV. The kids are safe, Robin’s safe, Eddie-

Eddie’s trailer, in the background.

Eddie’s living room, a crime scene.

The kids are safe, Robin’s safe, but Eddie-

“Steve!” Dustin yells as he bursts into Family Video. “How many phones do you have?”

“What?” Steve asks, finally tearing his eyes from the TV. “Why?”

Dustin vaults over the counter, ignoring Steve and Robin’s warnings against doing that very thing. “Dude, the tapes,” Steve groans.

“Dingus, control your child,” Robin jokes, and Steve throws her a look.

“If I could, I would.”

Dustin waves his hands in front of them. “Hello! Emergency? Phones? How many?”

“Christ, kid, why?” Steve asks again.

Dustin huffs like Steve’s being an idiot. “Because. My friend Eddie’s missing.” He catches sight of the TV and gestures at it. “See? He’s not a murderer, though. I have a list of his friends, acquaintances, whatever.”

Steve rolls his eyes, grabs at the list, scans it. Smiles when he realizes exactly where his boyfriend must’ve gone. “No need,” he says, shoving the list back at Dustin. “Robin, you coming?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” she promises, ruffling Dustin’s hair through his hat. “C’mon, squirt.”

Dustin splutters. “Is anyone gonna tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“Language, dude,” Steve chides. “We’re gonna find Eddie. I know where he is.”

“How-”

“Shotgun!” Robin yells, racing to the passenger side of the car and tugging twice on the handle.

Steve levels an unimpressed eyebrow on her. “What are you, twelve?” She sticks her tongue out at him. “Oh, very mature.”

He unlocks the doors and they all pile in. “Buckle up,” he says, and peels out of the parking lot.

The drive to Reefer Rick’s is usually twenty minutes.

Steve makes it in twelve.

He’s out of the car before it’s settled, running past the house to the boat shed. “Eds?” He asks. “You here? It’s Steve, Robin, and Dustin. Just us, I swear, you’re safe, Eds.”

Dustin hurries up, barging ahead into the building. “Eddie? Are you in here?”

Steve sees a tarp move and makes a split-second decision. “Dustin, you and Robin go check the house, okay? I’ll stay out here and keep looking, but it doesn’t look like he’s here.”

“Okay,” Dustin agrees, running off with Robin in tow.

Steve eases into the boathouse, lets the door shut behind him. “The door’s closed, baby. Just you and me. I know you’re under the tarp. Are you gonna come out?”

Silence, then the quietest he’s ever heard his boyfriend, “No.”

“Can you tell me why not?”

“They think I killed her.”

“I know. That’s why I’m here. I know you, Eds, I know you wouldn’t do that. I’m here for you, I’m here to help you.”

“How?”

“Well, a wise man once said a good hug can fix most your problems.”

The tarp shivers. A silent laugh. “Don’t let Wayne hear you. He’ll get a big head.”

“He deserves it. He’s right.”

Silence for another minute, then the tarp shifts, exposing Eddie’s face. “Stevie?”

Steve smiles softly. “Hey, Eds. You ready to come out?”

“I think I’m going crazy,” Eddie admits.

Steve can’t help the chuckle. “I know. You’re not, if it helps. Real life is just this crazy sometimes.”

Eddie shakes his head. “This is voodoo-level shit, Stevie. I’m scared.”

Steve’s heart breaks. “I know, baby. I know. And I know it might be hard to believe, but I’ve been through this before.” He edged closer to the boat, sits down right at the edge so they’re face-to-face. “Remember Starcourt?”

“The earthquake that stunk of government?”

Steve nods. “Russians. Among other things. The thing that’s behind all of this… we’ve fought him before. We hurt him, really bad, last time, but didn’t manage to kill him. And now he’s back. But we’re more prepared this time, I swear. We’re gonna be fine.” He frames Eddie’s face in his hands. “I���m not gonna let anything happen to you,” he says, so seriously his voice breaks.

Eddie’s eyes fill with tears. “I know,” he whispers. “And that’s what scares me. I don’t want to do this without you. And if you keep jumping in front of everyone-”

“Hey,” Steve says, shaking Eddie’s head a little. “I’ve got you now. I’m not gonna do that. But I’m not gonna let you do that, either, you hear me? We’re gonna get through this. Together.”

“Together,” Eddie breathes, nodding. He clambers out of the boat and into Steve’s lap, tucking his face in Steve’s neck. “Together,” he mumbles again, and it feels like a tattoo on Steve’s neck.

The door to the boathouse creaks open, revealing Dustin. “What the fuck,” he says, judging them with his eyebrows.

Steve judges him right back. “What?”

Dustin waves a hand at them. “This? How do you know each other?”

“We’re boyfriends,” Steve says, apropos of nothing. “We’ve known each other for years, though.”

Dustin splutters. “But- you- Nancy! And Robin!”

“I did date Nancy for a while,” Steve agrees. “Came running to Eddie when she broke my heart. He put it back together.”

“Aww, Stevie,” Eddie coos teasingly, still hiding. Steve pokes his ribs.

“And I’m a lesbian,” Robin says, knocking Dustin’s hat over his eyes. “Also, dude, you’ve gotta stop trying to get people together.”

Dustin blinks. “I- whatever. Eddie. We know you didn’t kill Chrissy.”

“You don’t know that,” Eddie says petulantly.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Quit being contrary.”

“You quit being contrary.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

Eddie shrugs. “Still kinda freaking out.”

Steve sighs, hugs Eddie tighter. “I know. I’m sorry. We know you didn’t kill Chrissy, Eds, but as long as the general public thinks you did, we’ve gotta keep you out of sight.”

Eddie looks at Steve pleadingly. “Your place?”

Steve smiles at him. “Yeah, we can go to mine.” He turns to Dustin. “Get everyone on the walkies. Tell them to meet at mine in fifteen minutes. Code red.”

Dustin nods and runs back to the car.

“Hey,” Robin says, tilting her head to meet Eddie’s eye. She smiles when they lock gazes. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Eddie huffs a laugh. “Not sure I am, Birdie, but thanks.”

They stand and make their way to the car.

Together.

#steddieweek2023 #prompt: together #prompt: established relationship #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #dustin henderson #starambles

[renjunniex]

Thank You, For Being You

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader Series

Venomous

Omega Part 1 | Omega Part 2 | Shape Shifted | Ice Pick | Abomination | Frenemy | Restraint | Raving | Party Guessed |

Prompt: Apparently knowing what the creature is doesn’t really help when you don’t know how to stop it. Derek, however, seems to have a plan that’s going to cause a lot of trouble for everyone.

a/n: guyssss super excited for this because this chapter will be the start of WAYYY more Isaac and y/n!! anyways hope you guys like it! let me know what you think 🤗

————————————————————————

You were searching through your locker looking for your textbook but your mind was also currently very distracted. The night of the game was a stressful one, even though you did end up with more information of what the scaly murderer was. A Kanima, you still remember the conversation from that cold night crystal clear.

“Is that even a language?” Stiles commented frustration dripping from his words.

“How are we supposed to figure out what this thing is,” questioned Scott as you scrolled through the contents of Gerard’s hard drive.

“It’s called the Kanima.”

You felt yourself sneer at the approaching pair, you three faced the Alpha and Beta. You crossed your arms like it was some kind of armor against them. “You knew the whole time,” Stiles concluded.

“No. Only when it was confused by its own reflection.”

“It doesn’t know what it is,” you said letting your arms dropped to your side eventually. Derek gave a sharp and small nod, “Or who.”

“What else do you know?” Stiles asked.

“Just stories. Rumors.”

“But it’s like us?”

“It’s a shapeshifter, yes. But it’s not right. It’s like a…” he hesitated. You shuffled, the whole discussion making you uncomfortable. You mumbled slightly as you fixed your stance, “An abomination.” Derek looked at you before nodding once more. He gave the signal and Erica and him began to leave but Scott stopped them, calling Derek’s name. “We need to work together on this. Maybe even tell the Argents.”

“You trust them?”

“Nobody trusts anyone,” you felt your voice rip out of your throat before you could even think, “That’s the problem.”

“While we’re here arguing about who’s on what side, there’s something scarier, stronger and faster than any of us, and it’s killing people!” You could here the clear stress coming from Scott as he lectured Derek. “And we still don’t even know anything about it!” Scott’s point made Derek’s expression harden.

“I know one thing. When I find it, I’m gonna kill it.”

SLAM!

Your whole body jumped as your locker was slammed shut. Behind the now closed locker door was Stiles, panting, he grabbed your wrist before starting to rush you towards the classroom. Once you reached the door, he let go of your wrist and crashed into his seat leaning over Scott's shoulder.

"Dude, I just talked to my dad, who just talked to Jackson, and I've got really terrible, horrible, very, very bad news."

Scott gestured ahead of him, "I think I already know."

Isaac.

You, on the other hand, didn't respond. You just stared at the now filled seat. In your now slightly unfocused vision, you could see your two best friends turned towards you. They were waiting on your reaction.

Letting your eyes carry themselves over to the boys, you gave an awkward smile before slowly making your way to your usual seat, right behind the curly haired werewolf. The teacher's voice could be heard as class began but your focus was only on the leather jacket wearing boy in front of you. You could practically feel the arrogance radiating off of him. It made your blood boil. You didn't understand him anymore. One minute he was the shy and nervous boy you had always known and then the next he was as cocky, if not more so, than the current Erica. It made you wonder if everything he has said to you since his transformation has been an act. Could you trust anything he said anymore?

You felt two pairs of hands on your shoulders, waking you from your frenzied thoughts. You hadn't even realized the bell ringing or the students leaving. You had daydreamed the whole period. Glancing to meet Scott's eyes before shifting to Stiles for a moment, you could see the sympathetic looks they were giving you.

"Don't look at me like that, please," you uttered quietly as if your voice would shatter the world if you spoke too loudly. You finally rose from your seat, gathering your things before motioning to the door. The boys took their designated spots on either side of you before Stiles began speaking.

"Alright, I only found one thing online called the Kanima. It's a were-jaguar from South America that goes after murderers."

Scott's eyes widened slightly, "That thing was not a jaguar."

"Yeah and I'm not exactly a murderer," Stiles pointed out. You felt yourself smile at the two boys as you witnessed the exchange.

"Yeah, but you did see it kill somebody, which is probably why it tried to kill you. And it's still trying to kill you, and it probably won't stop until you're dead," Scott concluded walking away as Stiles stopped in his tracks.

A cackle left your mouth as Stiles called out to the werewolf boy now in the distance, "You know, sometimes I really begin to question this 'friendship'." He air quoted as your laugh continued to echo through the halls. Stiles scoffed at you before placing his hand on your back and pushing you forward.

Little did you know, your laughing and Stiles had distracted you enough that you didn't notice the blue eyed werewolf standing nearby staring at you, longingly.

You three had finally made it to Coach's class, taking your seats, you guys began setting up for the period. Sadly for you, you had gotten stuck behind Stiles meaning next to you sat... Jackson. Who, unfortunately for you, was here today. He rushed in sitting in his seat.

"Hey, testicle left and right." You saw the boys' forms physically change from annoyance at the rich boy's voice.

"What the hell is a Kanima?"

That question made all three of you jump and look at Jackson. Then a slam could be heard, followed by Coach's voice.

"Okay, listen up. A quick warning before we begin our review. Some of you, like McCall, might want to start their own study groups, because tomorrow's midterm is so profoundly difficult... I'm not even sure I could pass it." He took a breath before continuing, however, you weren't listening and neither were your friends as you three turned back to Jackson.

"Paralyzed, from the neck down. Do you have any idea what that feels like," Jackson snarled his head whipping back and forth between you three.

"I'm familiar with the sensation," Stiles commented unamused. You snorted earning yourself a glare from Jackson.

"Wait..." Scott paused, "Why would Derek test you? Why would he think that it's you?"

"How should I know?"

"Do they think it's Lydia?" Stiles urged. Jackson shrugged, "I don't know, all I heard was her name and something about chemistry."

"JACKSON!" Coach screamed, catching your attention. "Do you have something you want to share with the rest of the class?"

"Umm... Just an undying admiration for my... My coach."

"That's really kind of you," Coach said sarcastically. Jackson held a high and mighty look on his face but Coach ruined it before he could bask in his made up glory.

"Now, SHUT UP! SHUT IT! Anybody else?"

Once Coach had turned back towards the board, Scott's hands were grabbing Stiles' collar and your sleeve tugging you both to him.

"How do we know that it's not her?"

"We don't," you said. Stiles gave you a look before speaking, "Because I looked into the eyes of thing, okay? And what I saw was pure evil. And when I look into Lydia's eyes, I only see fifty percent evil."

You scoffed, "Oh yeah, cause that's helpful."

"Alright, maybe sixty. You know, but no more than forty on a good day."

"Stiles, that's not a very good argument," Scott replied.

"I'm aware of that, but I swear it's not her. It can't be, alright? Lydia's fine."

"On another note, please never become a lawyer," you joked earning a light smack on the head from Stiles.

You three were interrupted by Coach calling the red haired girl's name. If by fine he had meant completely out of her mind, then Stiles would be right. She had tears running down her face and she was gasping as if she just awoke from a nightmare.

"Okay then, anybody else want to try answering? This time in English?" The call reply in laughter.

Behind Lydia, on the chalk board, were letters she had written. You immediately recognized them to just be backwards, when flipped they spelt out 'SOMEONEHELPME'. Apparently you were the only one to see that.

"What is that, Greek?"

"No, actually, I think it is English." Stiles showed a photo of the words and then flipped them.

"You needed your phone to read that?"

~

"Derek is not gonna kill her without proof," stated Scott as you three walked into chemistry. "Alright, so he tests her like he did with Jackson, right? But when and where?"

You saw Erica and Isaac walked into class right then, their eyes immediately shooting over to you three. Your arms shot out, the backs of your hands tapping their abdomens. They both looked at you, turning in the direction of where you gestured. Scott panicked, "I think here and now."

You saw the different expressions on their faces Erica look determined and confident, ready for a showdown. Even though Isaac gave you an unsure look, he was the one to start the duo's advancing. You felt your body throw itself forward as you rushed to beat them to the seat, which you did, you gave them both a snark before giving Lydia the best smile you could without showing how nervous you were.

A second later both Stiles and Scott joined you, Scott on your side and Stiles on Lydia's. You gave them panicked eyes and all you did was receive two shrugs. Lydia looked startled, glancing at you with questioning eyes and when you gave her no answer she rolled them before turning her attention to her textbook.

Allison walked in not a moment too later, definitely surprised to see her usual spot taken by you. She looked to Scott for answers as she sat at the other table across. Scott nudged his head backwards and she got the messege.

"Einstein once said, 'Two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe.'" Mr. Harrison took a pause patting Stiles' shoulder, "I myself have encountered infinite stupidity." He walked to the front of the class as he continued his lecture, "So to combat the plague of ignorance in my class, you're going to combine efforts through a round of group experiments. Let's see if two heads are indeed better than one. Or in Mr. Stilinski's case, less than one." You could practically feel Stiles' annoyance from the man's words.

"Erica, you take the first station," you heard the rustle as almost everyone raised their hands, clearly trying to volunteer themselves, "You'll start with..." Harrison had stopped due to the show of hands, you glanced around the room seeing everyone but you, Allison, Lydia, Stiles, Scott, and Isaac raising their hands.

"I didn't ask for volunteers. Put your hormonal little hands down." His eyes met your table, "Start with Mr. McCall. Alright, next two." You felt Scott tense beside you as students started to shuffle when being called, you placed your hand on his arm trying to offer comfort.

"Ms. (L/N), you're with Mr. Lahey."

Your head shot up, eyes wide, you sucked in a breath. You gave both Stiles and Scott worried looks before slowly getting up and moving to the seat that was previously occupied by the blonde werewolf. You sat with a huff and Isaac's head tilted towards you.

"Hello there, beautiful, long time no see."

"Don't," you whispered. He had his head leaning on his elbow, he slid his elbow down the table his face now in your eye line, "Oh come on, you haven't missed me?"

"Stop acting like this is some kind of sick game," you said harshly, your voice low so no one could hear you. He smirked before straightening his posture to start working. He sat there quietly measuring with a smug look on his face. You finally turned to him when you couldn't handle the silence anymore.

"Whatever your plan is, please, just leave her alone," you pleaded. He sat down the beakers before facing you, he brushed a hair out of your eye, "Do you even like her, why do you care?" You scoffed, the audacity, who cares what you thought of the girl. Killing someone was wrong, why couldn't he see that?

"Just because I'm not close to her doesn't mean I can just toss her life away. She doesn't deserve that," you took a pause and finally made eye contact with him. His face softened ever so slightly, you could've convinced yourself that you had imagined it. But you hadn't, he almost looked like his old self. "Just please, stop, you don't have to do this," you spoke softly.

"Sorry, but I have to do this, Derek's orders."

Ding!

"Switch!"

You got up quickly, when you saw Scott sit with Lydia you headed to a station that was empty. You took a deep inhale and shook your hands, you hadn't noticed until now, you were shaking.

The screech of the seat sounded next to you meaning someone was now accompanying you at the station. You looked to your side only to feel a sense of dread, it was Erica. She was definitely the more aggressive of the two betas... at least when it came to you that is.

Trying to mind your business you just grabbed the measuring tubes and began to mix what you were being told. "You know, I don't see what he sees in you."

"Excuse me?"

"Isaac, I don't understand what he sees in you. To be honest, you seem quite boring."

You gave her a sickly sweet smile, "Well, I'm deeply sorry to disappoint but I couldn't care less of what you think of me." She shrugged, "Just saying considering how many hoops Derek has to jump through to keep him in line simply because of you, I figured there would be something interesting there." You raised an eyebrow at her words, what the actual hell was she talking about?

"I don't know what you mean."

"What I mean is that anytime you're in his eyesight he gets all mushy and Derek is concerned on his loyalty, so if I have to create some distance between you two myself I will." At this point you had one hand gripping the desk so hard to keep yourself under control. You whipped your head to finally face her.

"And what the hell is that supposed to insinuate?"

"I'm just saying, maybe the event of a hurt friend would take your mind off of him for a while."

You lightly slammed your palms on the table, "You lay one finger on any of my friends and I swear to everything, I will break every bone in your body and grind them into dust." You felt her hand grab your arm, her claws digging into your skin, her eyes glowing. You winced and you felt yourself get slightly fuzzy. You were losing what little control you had. You could feel the familiar heat from your eyes, there was no doubt they were glowing as well. Without thinking you grabbed her clawed arm with your free hand, you could feel heat radiating from your palm. She instantly let out a pained groaned, letting go as the bell dinged once more.

You got up, looking at your now slightly bleeding wound on your forearm. You looked for a seat only to see that Isaac was already sitting with Lydia. Frantically, you looked for Stiles and Scott only to find them sitting together. They gave you panicked looks and you returned it as you sat at another table.

Your eyes did nothing but burn holes into Lydia's and Isaac's backs as you watched him interact with her. He didn't give any noticable signs that he has trying to do anything to her, yet that is.

"Time. If you've catalyzed the reaction correctly, you should now be looking at a crystal." You indeed were looking at a crystal, you turned back to the boys only to see them looking at their glob and then Scott casted his attention to the red head and beta across from you. You joined him in leading your eyesight over to the pair to see Isaac picking up the crystal, observing it, and then offering it to Lydia.

"Now for the part of that last experiment I'm sure you'll all enjoy, you can eat it."

Lydia took the crystal from him and your eyes widened in realization when you could faintly see the clear viscos liquid on it. Glancing at your crystal still in the beaker you confirmed what you were thinking. The kanima's toxic, they had put it on the crystal.

"LYDIA!"

You jumped at the booming sound of Scott's voice and you weren't the only one. Lydia and the rest of the class projected their attention onto the boy, who was quickly embarrassed and dismissed Lydia's question before sitting back down. There was nothing you could do. All you did was sit back and watch as she ate the crystal. You waited for the sound of her dropping to the floor due to paralysis but...

It never came.

~

You led the dark haired trio into Coach's office, locking the door behind you with the keys Coach gave you at the beginning of the year. You four were currently radiating every ounce of stress possible.

"Derek's outside waiting for Lydia," Scott said as you turned to face the group.

Allison gave Scott a worried look, "Waiting to kill her?"

"Well he's sure not waiting to give her a hug," you commented scratching your forehead out of frustration, you looked at Allison for a second, "Sorry, just frustrated." She gave you a nod of reassurance before looking to Scott again for answers.

"If he thinks she's the Kanima, then yes, especially after what happened at the pool."

"It's not her," Stiles affirmed.

You groaned slightly, "Stiles, come on."

"She didn't pass the test, man. Nothing happened," Scott spoke softly but it did nothing to convince Stiles, "No, it can't be her."

"It doesn't matter, because Derek thinks it's her," Allison finally gave in with a sigh. You scoffed, "Yeah and with Derek's severe lack in brain power, that's all he needs to justify his order to kill." Allison gestured to you in agreement. "Either we can convince him that he's wrong, or we've got to figure out a way to protect her."

"I really don't think he's gonna do anything here, not at school."

The dark hair girl shot back instantly, "What about after school?"

There was a moment of silence between all for of you as you all exchanged looks. "What if we can prove that Derek's wrong," Allison asked.

"By three o'clock?" Stiles and Allison started began a back and forth.

"There could be something in the bestiary."

"OH! You mean the nine hundred page book written in archaic Latin that nothing of us can read? Good luck with that."

"Actually, I think I might know someone who can translate it," she finished.

Scott stuttered slightly, "Uh, I can talk to Derek, maybe convince him to give us a chance to prove that it's not her."

"In the mean time, we could get Lydia to our house, neutral ground. It would be safer, plus I could maybe buy us some time to get her there." You pulled out the dusty book that's been stuffed in your bag since you've gotten it. "I've been practicing," you finished.

Scott took a second to look at you three before letting out a sigh, "But if anything happens, you guys let me handle it, okay?"

"What does that mean," Allison stared at the werewolf.

"I mean you guys can't heal like I do. I just don't want you getting hurt." Allison deadpanned before pulling her crossbow out of her bag

"I can protect myself," Allison rebutted. You and Stiles let them have their moment as you placed a hand on Stiles' shoulder. You saw him fiddle with the crossbow that Allison sat down but before you could stop him, an arrow shot out and towards Scott. Luckily he had caught it in time.

"Ah, sorry. Sensitive trigger on that." You smacked his head before dragging him out of the room, where you guys tried to go about the rest of your day.

~

Stiles had some how gotten Lydia to agree to a study group, which led you to being dragged through the library with them two. She shrugged him off before heading off in front of him. Allison caught up with you eventually and then you felt another presence. You looked over your shoulder to see Jackson following you as well. You didn't even bother to question it, the uptight boy always had his reasons for his actions and you've never been able to make sense of them.

"If we're doing a study group, why don't we just stay in the library?"

"Because we're meeting up with someone else," Stiles gave her shoulder a light pat and Lydia made another argument, "Well, why don't they just meet us in the library?"

"Oh, that would've been a great idea. Too late."

"Okay, hold on-," Jackson squeezed passed you, grabbing Lydia's arm and jerking her forward, "Lydia, shut up and walk." For the first time since knowing the boy, you didn't see a reason to make a snarky comment.

"Oh, hey you guys? I forgot something back there. Go on ahead, I'll meet you guys there," you called to the group now a few feet ahead of you. Giving Stiles and Allison a pointed look, they nodded back understanding what you were planning to do. Buy them some time to get Lydia out of here.

You backtracked towards the library when you heard your name being called, "Hey, (L/N)!" You looked in the direction of the call, getting met with a flash in your eyes, raising your hands to cover the light from your face. When the flash cleared you were met with the face of Matt, a player on the team, sitting with Danny. "Thanks," he said. How odd. You gave him a look of acknowledgement, then you heard the door to the library open. You quickly ducked into one of the aisles, out of eye line.

"Where is she?" You dipped your head slightly out seeing Isaac, his hand gripping Matt's shirt with Erica just behind him. You softly reached over to the next aisle through the shelf, pushing the books on the floor to create noise. You made a dash for the side door leading into the hallway, not even a second later footsteps could be heard following you. You turned a couple corners making sure to not be fully seen before slipping into an open and empty classroom. You had maybe a couple of seconds to grab your book and flip to the newly marked page. Your eyes glided down the page straight to what you were looking for... a barrier spell. It wouldn't be very strong since this is without practice, but it was gonna have to work.

You followed the instructions closing your eyes, letting yourself connect to the energy around you like Deaton had taught you. Their footsteps kept getting clearer and clearer. When you were sure they were in reach your eyes snapped open and with a flick of your hand into the air you saw a wall of iridescent energy fly up. You heard noises of confusion as you walked out of the classroom to meet the duo's faces.

"Pretty neat, huh?"

"Let us go, (Y/N)." Isaac gave you a stern look while Erica just continued to glare. You put your finger on your chin in pretend thought, you straightened your posture before speaking, "No."

Erica shoved past Isaac, "You think your little party trick is going to save your friends from us? Derek and Boyd will just take care of them. And what do you expect to happen when you can't keep this up anymore, huh?"

You took a couple slow steps until the barrier was the only thing between you two, "Don't worry about them, Scott's taking care of it. As for you two, I'm not worried. This isn't to hold you forever, just long enough to make sure they can get her out of here. And even if I had to stay here to keep it up, I don't care what happens to me as long as they're safe." Both betas faltered at that, that surely wasn't the response they were expecting.

"By the way, don't forget," you raised your injured arm, "I still owe you one, for this." In your peripheral you could see Isaac's glance was no longer on you but on Erica. Isaac raised his hand pointing at you, "You did that?" The blond werewolf didn't answer, just kept her eyes on you.

You shook your head, "Doesn't matter, anyways, I have to get going. See you guys around." You made your way out the side doors nearby, the barrier wouldn't last long with you not there to focus on it so you needed to go, now.

Behind you as you rushed out the doors, could be heard the sound of two betas arguing.

~

When you had finally made it home, you went through the back door, locking it. You headed to the front entrance making yourself be known, "Hey, I'm here. They're definitely right behind me though."

Allison breathed a sigh of relief as Stiles gave you a secure hug, "I'm glad you're alright." You gave her a weak smile.

"Where's Lydia?"

"Upstairs with Jackson," Allison answered. You rubbed your hands together and nodded. Stiles looked at you both, "Okay, what's the plan?"

"I could maybe focus a barrier on the house, I was able to do it back in the hallway. It won't be as strong if it works but it'll at least give us some protection until Scott gets here." They gave you a look of relief and nodded.

"Okay, but don't try it until they get here, you need to preserve your energy and we still don't know how your abilities really work yet," Allison set a hand on your shoulder and you agreed.

Soon enough, night fell, Derek's pack had arrive and Scott was no where to be seen. You three were looking at the window staring back at them. They all looked so joyous like they had already won. Allison had already called Scott letting him know he need to get here.

"What are you doing?" Stiles' questioned cause you to turn to the dark haired girl who looked distress.

"I think.. I think I have to call my dad."

"But if you do that.." you started, "If he finds you here, you and Scott," Stiles trailed.

"I know. But what are we supposed to do?"

"I think now is a good time to try that barrier." While the other two kept on their conversation, you stood at the door placing your hand on it, "I'm just gonna try and focus on both doors." You closed your eyes just like before but this time you pictured that same iridescent glow wrapping around the front and back door. Once you were sure you had done it, you just tried to focus on securing it keeping your eyes closed.

"Just shoot one of them."

"Are you serious?"

"We told Scott we could protect ourselves, so let's do it. Or least give it a shot, right?"

"Okay."

"Look, they don't think we're gonna fight, so if one of them gets hit, I guarantee they'll take off. So just shoot one of them."

"Which one?"

"Derek, yeah shoot him, preferably in the head."

"If Scott was able to catch an arrow, Derek definitely can."

"Okay, just shoot one of the other three then."

"You mean two."

"No, I mean three... Where the hell is Isaac?"

Without another word, your eyes had snapped open, "What do you mean, where's Isaac?" Your focus had been completely shattered and so had the barriers. You looked out the window indeed only seeing three werewolves and the curly haired one missing. In your lost of focus you hadn't even heard said werewolf coming up behind you three.

He grabbed Allison by her shirt, throwing her aside, doing the same to Stiles as well. "Isaac, what the hell are you doing?" He ignored you, just like at the ice rink. His focus completely on Stiles, but not for long as you jumped on the boy's back. Considering you only knew a few defensive spells, you in combat was pretty much useless. The werewolf did, however, struggle to get your grip loosened from around him. You both struggled, he lost his balanced and had backed into a wall ultimately slamming you into it but you didn't let go.

In your struggle you hadn't even noticed the dark haired girl running upstairs nor the blond werewolf following her. "Let go, (Y/N)!" This time, it was your turn to ignore him, too focused on keeping your grip firm. Soon you felt the form being thrown out from under you and a grip setting itself around you. Regaining your balance you looked to your side, it was Scott. You smiled, "You made it."

You glanced at the floor to see a tall werewolf passed out on the floor, Allison came down not a moment later informing you guys of Erica's state. Scott went to collect her as you dragged an unconscious Isaac to the front door. When Scott came back with the girl, he tossed both of the betas out the front door, standing on the front porch. You walked out and joined him on his right, Allison joining you on yours and Stiles on hers.

"I think I'm finally getting why you keep refusing me, Scott. You're not an Omega. You're already an Alpha of your own pack. But you know you can't beat me," Derek held a smirk on his face.

"We can hold you off until the cops get here," you nodded in agreement. Sirens could be heard closing in, Derek's smile was quickly wiped off.

You started to hear hissing and you weren't the only one who heard it, Derek had look up at the roof. The four of you on the porch came out into the yard to see the Kanima crawling along the top of ledge. Scott kept Allison close while you and Stiles grabbed at each others arms.

"Get them out of here," Derek ordered Boyd.

Not a second later, more footsteps could be heard coming from the front door. Lydia stomping through, "Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?"

"It's not Lydia," you whispered.

"It's Jackson."

_______________________________

a/n: another chapter doneeeee. honestly you guys this is probably my favorite episode of the whole season so i definitely had a lot of fun writing this. i hope you guys enjoyed and let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!!

taglist: @somiaw @vvicaddiction @mushroomelephant

#isaac lahey #isaac lahey angst #isaac lahey fluff #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey x reader #lydia martin #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #teen wolf fluff #allison argent #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf isaac #teen wolf series #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf isaac lahey #isaac lahey x yn #isaac lahey x y/n #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf x you #isaac lahey x you #isaac lahey smut

[swamp-spirit]

Dipping my toe into the MXTX tag again, and it reminded me that I wanted to share my experiences of having to read around 500 pages of various REALLY BAD cultivation novels (for work). SVSSS especially relies on knowledge of shitty cultivation webnovels.

To be clear, I have a lot of sympathy for (some) of these authors. Chinese webnovel writers are often under brutal time requirements (often around 1-3K a day, 7 days a week, fully edited and posted) for very little pay. They’re also under government requirements and corporate requirements to write something that’s pre-proven to sell. You have to get well established to ‘earn‘ the right to experiment, and that’s a 1/10000 lottery.

That said, there’s a lot of authors who write some amazing shit within those requirements (the people who write historical revenge rebirth stories for women knock it out of the fucking park 99% of the time tbh). So here are some of my horror stories from my months reading bad cultivation novels. (warnings for sexual assault mention)

There are three types of men in bad cultivation novels:           1. Simpering lackies who do everything the lead says and feel lucky to do it           2. Comically evil bullies, physically ugly, always attacking women or simpering lackies. The lead will horrifically murder them casually.           3. Comically evil bullies, but hot and high status. The lead will horrifically murder them OR humiliate them and destroy their meridians (and they will be disabled, worse then death!)

Speaking of disability, and, unfortunately, not confined to this genre, replacing a mentally disabled person is a REALLY common setup. Either the MC is disabled through evil machinations but cured via magic at the start, or the MC replaces a disabled person. Everyone will be shocked, amazed, and pleased that they have been ‘fixed’.

Things are even worse for women. Women are sweet and innocent (romantic interest or little sister figure. Or both), doting caretakers (romantic interest, mother figure, or both), cold ice-queens (to cast their pride aside and become a romantic interest), or evil, sexy seductresses (to be murdered. Or seduced). Of the three novels I read the most of           1. EVERY SINGLE WOMAN was introduced in the exact same way. The lead would accidentally see her naked, she would unjustly attempt to murder him, and then she’d realize the truth and decide marriage was the only solution to maintain her honor.           2. Every single woman who showed up had dudes attempting to sexually assault her, from romantic interest to random village girl. Every. One. This dude could not go five feet without witnessing a sex crime.           3. This one just forgot women existed? And honestly? Thank fuck.

Characters advance via video game logic. For example, in one novel, the character Became Neurotypical, immediately murdered some dudes, stole their cultivation items, sat down, and meditated. There was no internal description on what he did to meditate, his state of mind, his faith, or his growth as a person just LITERAL CHAPTERS of describing his cultivation levels going up. “HE BROKE THROUGH THE 3RD LEVEL NOW HE COULD DO THIS IT WAS AMAZING AND UNHEARD OF“ That’s the entire arc. Character gets items, meditates, numbers go up, goes and wins battles by killing everything in one punch. And not in a cool, genre deconstruction way. It works on a logic where the main character can’t do anything ‘uncool‘. He can never struggle, even for a second. One novel involved every enemy (usually human) being turned to ‘meat-paste‘ with a single punch

You know when you’re watching an anime that needed to fill out runtime, so it keeps cutting between the hero and the villain and then somebody in the crowd going “wait, is he going to use a soul punch“, “that’s impossible, somebody that young could never use a soul punch“ “wait, how could it be“ “damn, I underestimate him“ “It’s a soul punch!“ “A soul punch!“ Have you ever craved that experience in novels? Yeah. Me neither

MYSTERIOUS FUCKING CAVES. One of the main mechanics for a character to advance is being taken in by some spirit or trapped god or soul sealed in a sword, but the primary mechanic is ACCIDENTALLY STUMBLING ON MYSTERIOUS CAVES OF RARE ITEMS. Often found when falling into a ravine and landing on a mysterious ledge. To date, none of these caves had any explaination or plot. The character just found a cool cave, took the scrolls/ate the rare wine/soaked in the magic spring, leveled up, and left. In one of the novels, by the time I got a good chunk in, the main character had stumbled into THREE DIFFERENT MAGIC CAVES. To be fair, the third cave did also contain a skeleton which put him in contact with a sealed soul who took him in so like, that’s something.

#xianxia #mxtx #svsss #vents from when I was trapped in cultivation novel hell

[olderthannetfic]

Hogwarts Legacy anon. Honestly not even inaccurate on the living under a rock thing. I won’t say I follow JKR or Harry Potter news well. It’s not my fandom. But the posts are confusing to say the least and tend to lack any middle ground on people’s morals or the perception of them. Or whether said people should even believe randoms on the internet who have a tendency to spread lies and over exaggerations. When most everything on the internet is posted with oversimplification upon further research, it makes the rest doubtful as well.

The fact of the matter is, how in the know are you about the game or JKR (other than the occasional Twitter scandal) can you be if you aren’t perpetually in the state of researching everything you know? Or if it’s not even near your interest? Someone buys you a Harry Potter game, what do you do? Tell them to fuck off?

My question aims more to how is JKR any different from the many assholes who create or work for other entertainment, that don’t get the same level of outrage? Or the outrage gets replaced by another story to come later. And should the outrage be lain on, yes, the usually ignorant customer? Doesn’t that turn them away from even hearing the valid arguments out?

This question is more in reference to JKR involvement with said game. Probably valid criticism on the game, idk, I don’t know much about it, other than the visuals. And yes, I am coming from a place of ignorance on this matter, but from my perspective I just see a lot of shaming and a lot less information.

Though I still don’t understand vilifying people who buy the game because a. They don’t have any reason to believe internet people b. How likely are they to even know? The only reason I’m sorta in the know is because I spend too much time on the internet. C. Again why vilify for ignorance when you can teach instead of bitch?

(This is a sincere ask, by the way, filled with many days confusion. I do apologize if this is a bit ranty.)

--

We discussed this whole topic of "How complicit am I in JKR's suckitude?" extensively on my blog a while back. You can scroll back a few months if you want to see. The game was discussed at length then (though prior to anyone having played it).

As for why we would bitch instead of teach... dude... exactly how much of a tireless saint do you expect others to be?

If someone ran around using the n-word because they "just didn't know", would you give them a pass? What about if they loved their golliwog doll from childhood? Whose job is it to tell them to stop being a complete ass in public?

Yes, yes, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar, metaphorically speaking. (In reality, vinegar is one of the best ways to murder the shit out of flies, but I digress.) However, the fact is that randos on the internet enjoying their own space aren't free teachers who owe people things. They're reacting with wrath to a piece of propaganda by some fuck who wants them dead.

You're busy and haven't had time to do research. Fair enough. But everyone else is also busy.

Hogwarts: Protocols of the Elders of Gringotts, as that other post called it, is reportedly not at all subtle in its flagrant antisemitism.

One reason people are frustrated is that most non-Jews simply cannot be bothered to learn the very most basic information about antisemitic tropes. This isn't subtle stuff, nor is it hard to learn if you browse wikipedia instead of screamy social media posts.

I agree that tumblr, twitter et al. are bad places to get information much of the time, but that doesn't mean information is unavailable.

[ilovejasonschwartzmansomuch]

since i've seen people talking about whether or not the rocky horror picture show is good representation relatively recently (sorry i'm slow to these things) i thought i could throw my hat into the ring since i've watched it an unhealthy amount of times this week. a lot of people question whether or not they should look up to or idolize frank n furter due to him being such an iconic character but horrible person at the same time. i think that it really depends. my whole interpretation of rhps is that every character is flawed (except for a select few). everyone is a victim but not exactly angels themselves.

brad and janet are victims of the events that night but at the same time their wrong-doings aren't always caused from it. janet and brad (more so the former) both cheat on each other. it makes me wonder if their car never broke down they still would've cheated. brad seems to have a lot more regret (once in a while), but janet, even before the start of act two responding more flirtatiously to frank and rocky ("i'm a muscle fan!" dude your fiance is right there), doesn't have any real regret. i mean, it's good that she discovered herself. that's awesome, but i just feel so awful for brad. anyways this leads to the two being completely lost and filled with guilt at the end of the movie.

frank is probably the more complex. hes free of the chains of society, being him with no restraint, cross-dressing and being sexually liberated. this freedom also frees him from the other things society shuns (murder, assault, cannibalism, etc). you feel empathy for him before his death because he can't be himself, expressing his gender and sexual identity that society punishes, but it also feels just because of all of his negative aspects. your'e rooting for him but he also disgusts you.

this two-faced nature extends to the majority of the characters. dr. scott is caught in the middle of this whole affair with brad and janet just because he wanted to help his delinquent nephew, but he's an ex-nazi scientist, a person who would view everyone who was in the castle that night as the lowest of scum. riff raff and magenta are poorly treated frank and are the people who finally put him in his place. they're also incestuous (really pat and richard?)! eddie had his brain chopped up, got killed, cooked, and eaten by frank. at the same time he's junk. the transylvanians know that frank isn't the greatest of people but still choose to party with him. i would say they don't really have a choice, the castle being one of the only places they can express themselves freely.

this leads me to talk about columbia. she only wanted to be somewhere she could be her, even if there were flaws in her environment it was still better than wherever she came from. she wanted to love and be loved by both frank and eddie. this, however, didn't come without its consequences. the only other characters I would say aren't like the rest are rocky and the criminologist. rocky was just born so he has no idea what's going on. the criminologist isn't even in the story he's just the narrator.

anyways that's just my thoughts. i've seen too many people as of late saying "boo frank is bad boo" leading them to view the movie as bad. that's the whole point. he's awful. he's supposed to be awful. all of these people are awful. it's a satire on how conservatives view the queer community.

isn't fun though? seeing these characters express themselves while being a little more than morally gray? i'd say so. long story short: this musical slaps. you just gotta understand that you aren't supposed to look up to these guys.

#rocky horror picture show #rocky horror show #rhps #richard o'brien #columbia rhps #magenta rhps #frank n furter #janet weiss #brad majors #i edited this because it was a bit messy before but whatever

[beehindblueeyes]

Long rant on how Cool you are

Dude.

I just wanted to say that you are one of my favorite Black Phone fic writers(& just fans in general, really). This fandom is filled with what I feel are literal children(like 12 yr-olds) and you are one of the very, very few mature people that genuinely care about having good fics with good plots that aren't chat fics with so many spelling errors I can hardly understand them at all(I cannot stress how much I hate all these chat fics. The way they all stereotype these poor kids hurts so bad!)

And don't even get me started on all the Character(KID/MINOR/UNDERAGE/WHAT IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE) X Grabber fics there are, or the Y/N X Grabber, or Character X Reader.

And I love all the research you do on the 70s and how Ghosts act!! I come here often to see what your expertise is when I'm unsure of what a living-room should look like or whether Finney having a therapist makes sense or not lol. Not to mention your analysis on the Ghost Boys(I love them so much!! tbh I kinda follow your view on them when I'm writing them).

And seeing you care so much makes me do my own research knowing that there could be more people like you reading my fics that care about those kind of things((I am one of those people lol I love when fics are consistent with the source material!!))

Dude you have no idea how much this means to me, a lot of the time I feel like I’m putting my posts or my “time period guides “ out into the void. Sure they’ll get likes but no one ever says anything? It’s hard to know if people care and if I’m actually making a difference/people take my advice. I’m 🥺

I’m glad you like my writing! While also sad to hear chat fics are still a major problem. I went semi inactive in this fandom about a year ago and that sort of thing was rampant then— I get it’s a bunch of kids but it’s the refusal to try to actually get the characters or the world they live in. Idk I’ve just never been comfy with wackyyy texting modern AUs for…a bunch of murdered preteen boys… the fandom somehow infantilizes them and makes them too mature? How do you do that.

There was a real tendency to age up Vance in particular because a lot of people find him attractive like he isn’t 14-15 MAX.

Never been a x reader person but the grabber ones in particular is… weird. I know Ethan hawk is good looking but why do a bunch of grown women want to get with a canonical pedophile serial killer? … I uh… I don’t think he’d be into you.

No but again I’m just a huge puddle on the floor rn man I’m so glad I influenced you to care and all that? That I touched at least one person, y’a know? Aaa

#the black phone #black phone #the black phone 2022 #writing #the black phone fanfic #vance hopper #the grabber #fandom problems #asks #writing time period #time period help

[self-written-god]

G | 916 | m/m vampire/werewolf finally some monster on monster action | fantasy | drugged flirting, pre relationship, d/s dynamics hinted

It's embarrassing. What kind of respectable vampire chips his fucking fangs? He lies to himself that maybe no one will notice, that it's not that bad. But fangs were a vamp's most noticeable feature, they were their pride and any blemish was commented on by his so-called best friends constantly.

So he sucked it up and went to the only dentist in the state who specialized in monster teeth. 

The business was in no way illegal but also wasn’t regulated in any way, so he found himself under the ground level of some back alley building, greeted by a bulky half-orc and an ‘interspecies peace zone’ sign. 

Inside there is a fairly insane-looking guy with thick glasses, scribbling something down. In front of him, sitting sideways on the dentist chair, is a werewolf, holding his cheek. His nose moves and he turns towards him, instantly twisting his face into a scowl. 

It quickly drops, the wolf letting out a pained whimper instead. 

“Awww, somebody got a cavity?” he cooed meanly. The wolf glared.

“Ah, Mr. Lee. Haven’t you chipped your fang opening a wine bottle?”

If there was any blood in him, he would go pink with embarrassment. 

“What about doctor confidentiality?!” he asks, while the wolf snickers. 

“There’s none,” the dentist shrugs. “I work on the fringes of law, so I make my own rules. One of them being my patients acting civil to each other. Respect that or find another doctor.”

He doesn’t answer, he just sits down on a vacant chair and waits for the two to finish their transaction. After the wolf pays though, he doesn’t leave. He sits down next to him, while the dentist motions him to take his place. 

“Is he gonna watch?”

“Yep. Gotta wait for the anaesthesia to wear down.”

“But-!” he cuts himself off under the doctor’s murderous gaze. He should have gone to medical school himself. To be a vampire and be overpowered by a medical professional. Unthinkable. 

He lets the mortal put his fingers in his mouth while a werewolf watches. The most mortifying time of his life.

The doctor hums as he studies his fangs. 

“I’ll give you a temporary filling but after taking a cast of your teeth. Until we fix your teeth with proper acrylic, no biting because the filling isn’t strong enough for that. It should be ready in a couple of days though, so no worries.”

The vampire hums an affirmative, mouth still full of dental tools.

After that, even more weird stuff gets placed there, like some artificially smelling pink cream, used for the cast. After that, a piece of clay to form the missing tip of his fang. 

He pays a lot, but he can afford it, and it’s worth not listening to his friends laugh anymore.

“Do you remember what to do?”

“No biting, brush gently, be back in two days.”

“Great. Now please take Mr. Blum on your way out, I’m closing up.”

“What?!” his head whips to the chair in the corner, where the werewolf is still sitting.

“He told me he reacts badly to anaesthesia but I didn’t expect it to be this bad,” the man explains with a shrug. “Just call him a taxi or something,” he waves his hand dismissively.

Lee gapes. But the doctor doesn’t seem to give him any attention, and the half-orc enters the room, giving him the stink-eye, so he grabs the werewolve’s elbow and drags him outside.

“Okay, Mr. Blum, where do you live?” he asks, straightening him up since he’s a bit wobbly on his legs. He looks around to see the nearest place to grab a taxi, but when he doesn’t get an answer, he looks down. A pair of puppy dog eyes is looking up at him, big and sparkly. The waning moon is reflected in them.

Dumbass probably was too drained after the full moon to fight the chemical haze.

“Dude?” 

The werewolf sighs.

“You vampires are so pretty…” 

For a second he’s so taken aback he’s frozen speechless. Then, he scoffs. 

“Okay, if you don’t tell me where you live, I’m just going to drop you here.”

The wolf seems to be deciphering his words for a very long time, and he’s about to drop him here and there, when he finally gets an answer, along with a giggle.

“16 Mirkwood Lane,” he says, slurring just a bit. “Will you come in?” 

The question was bad, but the eyebrow waggle was too much. He drops the werewolf on the pavement, letting him wobble against the nearest lamp pole.

He makes only a couple steps away when the night is pierced by a howl.

“Shit, fuck, fuck, shit!” he hurries back to the werewolf, covering his mouth with his hands. “Shut up!”

“Give me your number.”

He blinks.

“What?”

The werewolf inhales again.

“Fine, fine!” he hurries to cover his mouth again. “Whatever, just, shut up!”

He whips out his business card (of course he has one, he’s cultured) and hands it to the werewolf. “Here. Now, you’re gonna get in the cab, I’ll see you walk into your house, and you can call me when you sober up, no sooner,” he instructs, dragging him forward and waving to a taxi driver who stopped for a smoke.

“Yes, sir.” 

The voice is smaller than before, and when he looks down the puppy eyes are even bigger, shinier. Guess he let his dominant side out too much.

This is what he gets for drinking alcohol. 

#monsterlovetober2023 #monster romance #monster lover #monsterfucker #fantasy romance #spooktober #monster kink #original story #vampire/werewolf #vampire dom #monster/monster #teratophillia #werewolf sub

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

There's something about the Unburied spin off bringing in Jean Paul/Azrael right when you're reading through his comic appearances. Is there something you like about his characterisation in it or is it all bad?

the timing is BANANAS I cannot escape from this man!

but to answer your question like genuinely NO and it's because Jean-Paul doesn't really like... HAVE a characterization in Secrets in the Dark? or rather, he does, but that's not. that's not Jean-Paul.

like JP having no prior personal connection to Batman before he starts vigilante-ing is weird, and so is him apparently just deciding to go rogue as Azrael rather than being conditioned into it from childhood by his dad and the order, but the way he's set up as having been an uptight religious extremist from an early age is really where I draw my line on this one. hello hi, he MAIMED is roommate?? pre-Azrael Jean-Paul was Literally Just Some Guy! he was studying computer science, man! he was not a violent dude, all of that comes from the system and the hell training he got after his dad was murdered! idk, it really seems like the writers got the cliffsnotes on Azrael and just ran with "religious Batman who kills people" without wanting to look any deeper into what actually drives the character.

JP is filling kind of a similar role as Cornelius Stirk did in Unburied; they're both filling the role of being the most initially visible antagonist who presents an initial problem to solve but is actually being controlled by something way more convoluted than simple homicide. but even though Stirk is ultimately just a tool for Ivy, he gets a relatively large amount of development as a person! especially through listening to his sessions with Strange, you really get to see how he was pushed further and further into embracing his worst delusions and homicidal cannibal tendencies and how he got warped into being a tool for Strange and Ivy to use; it makes him a lot more sympathetic and shows how his vulnerabilities were exploited by the corruption within Arkham. it fits very well in a series that's surprisingly sympathetic to its rogues - Eddie being an unambiguously sympathetic victim of police framing and brutality, Batman apologizing to Tut for the medical abuse he experienced, Ivy herself starting out as a victim of abuse and sexual harrassment and ultimately abandoning her plan when she's won over with the power of gay love. the only villain in Unburied who DOESN'T get any humanizing moments at all, in my opinion, is Strange, and that's because he was a man who was 100% in a position of power over the people he was hurting and get that narrative sympathy.

Secrets in the Dark has kind of a weird moment of trying to have its cake and eat it too. it wants to make textual a lot of those more subtly presented ideas about criminals as people that started in Unburied, with Eddie repeatedly emphasizing the injustice of society looking away from convicted felons and treating their lives as expendable, while also like. presenting Azrael as a one-dimensional religious zealot who gets almost no interiority and is easily manipulated by other characters at pretty much every turn. (which is extra wild because like??? HELLO. if we wanted to continue that theme of exploring wrong committed by people in power, the Catholic church was a GREAT place to do that!) and there just doesn't really seem to be a satisfying stance on that other than, I guess, the Riddler is the POV character, so the murderers that he likes are fine but the one he doesn't like is fair game.

I uuuuuuuh had more feelings about this than I thought I was going to when I sat down to type this actually. justice for my boy Jean-Paul, that wasn't him.

#secrets in the dark #jean paul valley

[bronanlynch]

approximately a million years later I have finished aai and also this post so here is The Lawyer Rankings (of whose file clerk I would rather be) (aai took me a long time to play but also I finished it forever ago so like. take these with a grain of salt)

miles: it would be interesting at least, sometimes your boss goes on a trip for a week and gets caught up in like 4 different murder investigations and all of them are absolutely bonkers, so those would be some fascinating documents to skim while you’re filing them. however. not entirely sure about what his job actually consists of at this point so it’s possible that you wouldn’t have much real work. 6/10, I’m not sure he’s like, consistently employed

miles (flashback): I know that I could not fix 20 year old miles edgeworth, especially not as his minimum wage employee whom he does not listen to, but it’s almost tempting to try because wow I’m very sad abt him. however. he’s so smug, is the thing. he needs you to know that he knows more than you and you’re like, dude I’m just trying to scan all of these exhibits I truly do not need to know or care abt your clever courtroom strategy or whatever. also I’m allergic to smug men talking down to me, it makes want to out-pretentious them and that would end badly for both of us. 4/10, which is more than I gave him for the aa3 flashback because 1) he didn’t call anyone a bimbo this time and 2) this one made me so sad

portsman: imagine this scenario: I am portsman’s file clerk, I poke my head into his office to ask if he has a file that someone else needs (he does, and he’s been ignoring my emails because I won’t talk to him about ~the big game that weekend), I get accidentally hit in the face with a baseball because he’s playing catch with himself in his office, I go to hr and I quit immediately and also fill out some workplace injury paperwork. 2/10, annoying and bad to interact with but not quite insufferable enough to go lower

payne: so forgettable that his coworkers can’t be bothered to remember he exists, which is valid but might mean they would also forget you by association, and that could be inconvenient when you’re trying to track down paperwork and schedule meetings. 3/10, no one would take me seriously by extension and I would get annoyed when my emails didn’t get answered

franziska: the international travel is a big plus as long as you get to travel with her, and if not then you get left alone to do your thing a lot of the thing, which is also a plus. however she doesn’t seem like a great boss on account of how she’s still always threatening to cut gumshoe’s pay which I would not enjoy, but at least she’s generally on top of things which makes your job easier. on the other other hand, at least once per post I’m obligated to say that I would simply not want to work for cops and. y’know. interpol prosecutor is like. double cop. 4/10, my pay would probably be low enough without getting cut tyvm

franziska (flashback): absolutely not, I’m taking a strong anti-child labor stance, and also working for a child prodigy would actually realistically mean working for her father which uh. see below. 1/10, sorry fran

manfred von karma: aside from the injustices he’s committed and also just his rancid vibes, he seems like he’d be incredibly unpleasant to work for. asks you to do an impossible task and then when you figure out a way to do it anyway he makes up something to scold you about even though it wasn’t something he’d originally asked for. and god forbid you not have something sent the courts on time even though he’s the one who emailed you the document to print at 4:55 on the day of the deadline when the mail goes out at 4:50. you’re still getting blamed. 0/10, absolutely not, I don’t care what the benefits are

calisto yew: my answer here changes based on whether I know she’s the yatagarasu, because I wouldn’t be able to have any respect for her if I thought she was actually just defending corporations, but if I knew that she was setting up their downfalls I would love to help. however she would probably make fun of me for taking my job too seriously and trying too hard, and she seems like the kind of casually disorganized that would drive me bonkers, so it might not be the greatest work environment. 8/10, as long I know she’s the yataragasu, otherwise 5/10, only if I’m desperate

byrne faraday: again, depends if I know about his extremely cool and valid crimes. aside from that, he seems like a dependable kind of boss who answers your emails and wouldn’t be too strict or mean, and if he needs you to do something that you’ve never done before he’s willing to show you how to do it. 10/10, if I can be the yatagarasu’s file clerk, otherwise 5/10

aa1 | aa 2 | aa 3 | aa4

#u can tell this isn't just a ranking of which characters i like better bc otherwise. fran my beloved <3 #anyway. lawyers huh #this has just been sitting in my drafts for months almost finished #bc instead of playing aa5 i. checks notes. rewatched n//irvana in fire and then got real into f//ire emblem #ace attorney #ace attorney investigations #dreaming.txt

[queer-coded-camaro-driver]

Prompt idea maybe: "You look so pretty when you cry."

sorry this took me a minute, but the right scenario needed time to formulate

Harringrove pre-relationship, post S2/pre S3, marijuana

---

He’s stoned as hell when he says it, of course. Otherwise he would never have opened his mouth and let something so totally idiotic come flying out in front of Hawkins’ notorious bad boy, Billy Hargrove. But they both show up at one of the quarry’s lesser known spots at the same time and both outright refuse to leave… So the somewhat-rivals begrudgingly agree to share some of Eddie Munson’s better shit and ignore the tension brewing between them. At least for a few glorious hours.

Until Steve exhales a cloud of blue smoke and says offhandedly: “You look so pretty when you cry.”

Billy’s head snaps up, expression grim – he’s borderline murderous already. The blond’s upper lip curls back until he’s snarling, until Steve is staring down a Billy who’s more wolf than boy. “What the fuck did you say to me, Harrington?”

Steve blinks. Shit. How is he supposed to answer that when he hadn’t even meant to open his mouth in the first place!? How the hell is he supposed to tell the guy who beat the shit out of him a few weeks ago that he looked stunning from below–

In retrospect, obviously. At the time of their altercation, Steve had been angry and frightened and was trying his best to protect the kids; which is, ironically enough, also what Billy had been trying to do. He’d been trying to protect Max from an entire room full of strange guys.

Which, like, fair enough.

But even after the Billy’s-fist shaped bruises have healed and the cuts fade to nothing, Steve’s mind keeps wandering back to those awful but electrifying moments before unconsciousness. The memory is glorious: blood dripping from that statuesque nose, tears forming at the corners of the younger boy’s wrathful blue eyes as he drives his fist into Steve’s face over and over. The howl Steve saw but never quite managed to hear, straining like distant thunder in the back of Billy’s throat. 

He’d been pissed at Billy, going out of his way to avoid the blond until Max filled him in on what went on at their house on Cherry Road. Staying mad about something as stupid as a misunderstanding in the wake of El’s incredible victory and this new information seems childish. Stupid. Steve has seen the end of the world and faced it head on, so what’s one equally lonesome asshole from California, really?

“Hey, pretty boy, you gonna fuckin’ answer me?”

“Oh!” Steve shakes his head and bites his bottom lip before exhaling. “Right… I mean, you have like–” Fuck. “–I don’t know dude, I’m high as fuck!”

“Well that’s kind of a weird thing to say, man.”

“I know that, Billy. Christ, you think I wanna sound this stupid all the time? Kids make fun of me when I open my mouth.”

Unexpectedly, the blond boy’s frown deepens. He starts rolling another joint on the hood of Steve’s car. “That’s not very nice of them, considering how much of your trust fund you’ spend on gas to tote them everywhere. If I were one of those brats, I’d be worshiping the ground you walk on.”

Steve gives Billy a look of outright awe. 

Did Eddie lace this shit? Am I dreaming? 

“Huh?”

“I rarely see you around without one of those nerdy little brats hanging off your jacket, so you clearly spend a lot of time helping them out and taking them places. They think it’s okay to treat you like crap just because they’ve read a few more books and gone to a few less parties? Dumbasses.”

“When I said you’re pretty when you cry, I mean your eyes get more intense. You have nice eyes for, like, a dude. I guess.”

Now it’s Billy’s turn to stare at Steve in shock. 

He lights up the joint and takes a drag before passing it to Steve. “Thanks, Harrington. That’s kind of nice, in a weird way.”

“It’s already been established that I’m pretty weird.”

“And sweet.”

“What?” 

“You’re sweet,” Billy reiterates, taking the joint back. “But you didn’t hear me say shit.”

“Course not,” Steve smiles. He’s really stoned; his head is full of cotton and he has the deep desire to reach out and touch Billy’s golden curls. “Hey, can I touch your hair?”

“Can I touch yours?”

“Yeah.”

“Then, sure.”

They each reach out with one hand. Billy tucks what he can behind Steve’s ears and Steve tugs gently at one of Billy’s ringlets only to watch it bounce back into place. Quietly, so quietly it’s barely audible, the older boy whispers: “What are we doing?”

Billy shrugs, fingers still tangled in loose brown locks. “Dunno. But I kinda like it.”

“Me, too.”

“Cool… Do you really think I’m pretty?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.”

They watch the sun rise over the far edge of the quarry in silence, shoulders pressed tightly together. They’re almost sober again, and Steve isn’t sure if things will go back to the way they were yesterday or if this new sense of understanding is permanent. The tension in the air hasn’t returned and he’s terrified to think that it may. 

He doesn’t want to lose this side of Billy.

“Hey, Hargrove…?”

“Yeah, pretty boy?” 

“Are we– Does this mean we can stop being assholes to each other?” Steve asks.

Billy laughs, bright and loud and so fucking beautiful that Steve’s chest aches. His gorgeous blue eyes go squinty and thin as his smile grows, slivers of seafoam iris showing through. “Yeah, Harrington. I think we can figure out a way to be friends.”

Steve’s grin is unstoppable. Genuine. Something is stirring in his heart like an animal waking from hibernation. 

“Cool.”

#harringrove #harringrove ficlet #anonswers #anon prompt fill #harringrove prompt fill #harringrove fluff #marijuana tw #billy hargrove #steve harrington #snark #flirting

[thebibliomancer]

What If? Vol. 2 #3

What if Steve Rogers refused to give up being Captain America?

Okay that’s non-specific if you don’t know your Captains America.

A government commission on superheroes brought Cap in and declared that since the Captain America name and outfit were made by the government, they owned it. They owned him. And they wanted Cap taking orders directly from the government.

Cap refused to play ball and surrendered the outfit, the shield, and the codename and started going by the Captain instead.

The government made John Walker Captain America and he did a really bad job. Not helped by Red Skull having engineered the whole thing to tarnish Captain America’s reputation by replacing him with Some Jerk.

Steve confronted a spiraling John Walker and took over being Captain America again and the government put John Walker in a variant of the Captain outfit, making him US Agent. And a pain in the ass for the West Coast Avengers.

This What If? story instead has Steve refuse to surrender the Captain America name. In response, the commission tells all the soldiers in the Pentagon that Cap is actually a commie impersonator and to shoot him please.

A bit of an overreaction. But maybe not unrealistic.

I don’t know why “Featuring: Freedom Force!” is so prominent on the cover. They do feature in one scene, where they hassle the Avengers, trying to find where Cap is. But that’s it.

Were they so popular that they deserved this much hype?

The government gets Taskmaster to train Super-Patriot John Walker and some dudes with B’s on their cowls to hunt down Cap.

But they don’t have to try very hard because Captain America has Rick Jones organize a rally so he can argue his position to the American people.

Obviously, Super-Patriot shows up to punch Cap and friends a lot.

But then a Reagan ex machina happens.

President Reagan just shows up and presidential pardons Steve and declares he can be an independent Captain America while Super-Patriot will be the government’s personal patriotic mascot.

So we end up basically where we would have? Steve Rogers gets to be Captain America, John Walker works for the government.

Well, no.

Remember how Red Skull was manipulating this from behind the scenes?

He’s livid at Reagan ex machina and orders one of his agents to shoot Cap right then and there.

Reagan shrugs and asks John Walker to be the new Captain America.

John goes through his same breakdown in the same time span and kills a guy without Steve around to stop him. And like Batman always feared, murder is like potato chips.

The government tried to cover it up but Walker just kept killing until he got fired and arrested.

The Captain America identity got retired and Red Skull laughed his ass off having finally destroyed his nemesis.

My problem with this one is that the most interesting idea here is Steve Rogers dies, he’s not around to stop John Walker. And it happens near the end of the book.

The rest of the book is filled with Cap having an action sequence where he escapes the Pentagon after being branded a commie imposter. Freedom Force hassling the Avengers and Peter Henry Gyrich cracking down on the Avengers too. Cap gathering allies like Falcon, D-Man, Nomad, and Vagabond. A talk show where Reed Richards, Rick Jones, and the president of the VFW speak out in defense of Cap. A brief fight scene at the rally until President Reagan could just show up and resolve everything.

There’s a lot of Stuff that happens to fill the page count that doesn’t really mean anything because Red Skull flips the table.

Complaining that a thing isn’t a different thing is a type of criticism I try not to do. But…

In terms of this What If? and if the endpoint is dead Captain America and John Walker out of control…

The story should have started with Cap being killed in the Pentagon escape. Shot by a normal soldier or killed by Freedom Force since you’re so proud of having them involved for some reason.

Focus the issue on John Walker’s fall. That spree of violence he went on that the government tried to cover up.

Have the allies Cap gathered in this issue instead be the people that stepped up to confront Walker in Steve’s stead.

As it is, What If Steve Rogers had refused to give up being Captain America? manages to hit two different What If? indulgences at the same time.

In spite of a nail, everything ends up roughly following the same events anyway. And everything is worse forever.

#What If? #the comic #Captain America #Captain America No More! #maybe the monster clown drove Walker mad #who can say

[alexissara]

Unicorn Overlord Demo - Quick Review

Unicorn Overlord is a game I was not interested in but given the demo was taking over my feed I decided fuck it I'll give it a shot like I did for the Project Triangle Strategy Demo. The presence of a dude main lord already is a massive turn off for me so I did go in with a negative feeling about the game and the game managed to not turn me around at all.

The story of this game is just bad, it's not good, it's not great, it's not good. We got no sense of conflict really, we get a fridge cool battle mom and then the good boy prince who is good and pure and perfect goes out to go fighting the bad evil emperor who took over the world. Turns out people betrayed his mom not because there was complicated politics or anything but because they were simply mind controlled. The game right away damsels another woman and then constantly fills it's plots with serious big boys. On my playthrough it took a long time for me to get any women at all to join my army outside of my starting character Chloe.

The game provides a choice system but the choices do not tell you what you get from either choice and the choices are simply "Do I murder this guy or do I let them live". It would really benefit from letting you know what it is your gaining on the gameplay side instead of having you go in without knowing as a means of trying to push or pull you in different directions.

These are paired with how boring Alian is as a protag. He is a proper good noble boy with proper good noble boy morals. You get to make choices for him but their either being a good boy who believes in people or being like a lawful guy who is still seen as good maybe more good who punishes enemies more often. He talks and has his own personality kinda outside of that but honestly he is so low impact he could have been a blank slate Persona protag who never speaks and it make no real difference. There was really no reason this character couldn't have been a selectable gender or customizable player avatar and kept basically all the work on the character already done, hell he is just ando enough you coulda just picked pronouns on him.

The other characters writing is not particularly exciting either the lesbian angel and her girlfriend are cute but they are no Aylain and Isobel even if they are functionally the same classes and similar dynamic they lack the passion and talent behind them. No one else really stood out to me, there were characters I thought were fine but no one felt stunning or particularly exciting.

Gameplay wise it's not super great it reminds me of so many better games. The RTS elements brought into an RPG make me think of Yugioh Falsebound Kingdom only idk for me it's less exciting. The maps so far are pretty boring lanes that don't get me to imagine a set piece very much with these wider war scaled battle it's painfully real of a setting for a plot that gives me no investment in the horrors of war, it's just fields and shit. There isn't a lot going on but also there is a skill system to dive into and honestly that seems like it's too in depth for me to give a shit about either since it wasn't really given the kind of slower introduction it should have been given to get used to adding skills and getting an idea of how that might improve a unit.

Overall, I guess it's fine but I really do not see what the hype is about. I'd play this game and probably do a full review if I was given a copy but mostly because I simply don't have other video games I'm looking forward to in the near future and I enjoy having something to passively do on my switch when I am feeling icky but I could also idk play my backlog or random gachas so idk. This could be a lot better.

#unicorn overlord #Demo Review #Quick Review #Review #Unicorn Overlord Demo #Fire Emblem #SRPG

[ladysqueakinpip]

oc ask meme! hirmi: 3 7 9 12 bodrum: 1 12 13 19

For Hirmi :3c

3. What is your OC’s fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw?

he's a people-pleaser through and through. a real peacekeeper. which can be a strength but! he tends to be submissive and frequently takes the backseat of his own life to prioritize the needs of others (usually his family). it's very unfortunate for him bc he has desires and goals that vastly oppose what his culture tells him he should want out of life. he's always torn between making the people around him happy at the expense of his own happiness vs pursuing his own goals and creating a lot of family tension.

he is absolutely not aware of this flaw lol. he's not self-reflective enough to realize he's doing this.

7. What’s one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?

originally he was going to be tall. he lives FAR north tho and i found out a lot of animals in the north tend to be compact to preserve body heat. so i made him a little dude instead.

9. Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

MANY. i answered a question similar to this a while ago for him but i didn't get to use ALL the songs on my hirmi playlist so i still have more.

"I was walking through icy streams / That took my breath away / Moving slowly through westward water / Over glacial plains / And I walked off you / And I walked off an old me" - Alaska, Maggie Rogers

12. Is your OC self-destructive? In what ways?

yea i think so. in some ways. definitely not as bad as other ocs of mine. i've hinted at some family tension above. his mom has a history of making some pretty not great comments about him to his face! especially about his appearance! which he has unfortunately internalized. he's especially concerned about overeating/bulking up/putting on weight and budgets his daily calories with goodberry (dnd spell)

For Bo :3c

1. What memory would your OC rather just forget?

every time alekah makes a joke in front of the group at his expense. this happens frequently!

12. Is your OC self-destructive? In what ways?

thankfully, i don't think so! bo has a LOT of issues from his past but his story is about confronting those issues in as healthy a way as alternian culture would allow. which means getting a moirail! he relies on his moirail amytis to keep himself in line. maybe he should invest in a real therapist instead of putting all the responsibility onto her, but hey at least it's a start.

13. If you met your OC, would the two of you get along?

i think so. we could chill and read. go on a quiet nature walk. go to a bakery and satisfy our sweet tooth. fill up on more sugar than either of our little bodies can handle. it'd be a good day.

19. How does your OC behave when enraged?

not great, lol! violently! i am realizing now the reason why bo gets a pass on the self-destructive label is because he takes all his destructive tendencies out on others! subjugation is his coping mechanism <3 thankfully for the safety of everyone around him he has amytis who tirelessly stops him from going on an insane purpleblood murder rampage when provoked. which again, with alekah around, happens frequently!

#oc stuff #lets t a l k a b o u t about ocs #thanks for the qs -smirk- u know i love to talk about my kids

[chipper9906]

Switch - Chapter 2

Pairings: Dylan Lenivy/Ryan Erzahler

Chapter Word Count: 9,489

Overall Word Count: 22,004

Status: Multi-Chapter - In Progress (2/?)

Chapter Preview:

“No, he’s not my type, man,” Dylan says, words littered with laughter at the exasperation in Ryan’s voice. The joking manner he so easily slips into fades away as his eye catches Ryan’s, seeing something there he doesn’t usually see. Ryan was typically a very serious dude, but there was something there, something so… open. Enough so that Dylan felt he should at least have the decency to return Ryan’s seriousness in the situation.

“I, uh... I think you know what my ‘type’ is…”

Ryan’s lips almost flickered into a smile. “Yeah, I... I think I do."

There's a pause, the air between them filled with that kind of tension where it feels like something is going to snap. And then, Ryan says with a glint in his eyes, "It's Nick, right?"

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2:40 | AUGUST 23 — KAITLYN

HACKETT FAMILY HOUSE

 Kaitlyn was going to die. 

She was going to die, and it wasn’t even going to be due to a werewolf — you know, the thing that’s been the major threat to them the whole night. No, instead her death is going to come at the hands of a Hackett, collapsed on the ground with a stupid fucking knife in her side. 

Said Hackett had just thrown open the door she had closed literal seconds ago, and Kaitlyn’s not sure if the groan she lets out is of pain or, or annoyance. It was bad enough the dude stabbed her, but did he seriously have to chase her room to room and then find her moments after she’d thought she had shaken him off her tail?

Well… As the asshole had said: It was his house. 

Kaitlyn scoots away from him, a grimace stretched across her face with every pained movement. Bobby doesn’t react to her pain in the slightest, just continues on his menacing path toward her. “Get…” Kaitlyn pants, a fresh wave of pain washing over her as her hand catches the knife. “The hell… away from me…”

“Can’t do, little missy,” Bobby drawls, standing over her. “I’ve got orders. I’ve gotta follow my orders.”

“Why?”

That actually seems to stump Bobby a little. “…Coz they’re orders… They’re meant to be followed.”

“Yeah? Including the ones where you murder a bunch of counselors?”

“If it comes to it. You killed my niece. You killed my ma. So if pa says you gotta go? You gotta go.” Bobby’s eyes drop down to where Kaitlyn is holding a hand to her side, a deep frown etching into his face. “And you took my knife!”

Bobby bends down, reaching towards her, and oh -- hell no. She wasn’t going out like this. Not without a fight. Kaitlyn grabs the handle of the knife and yanks it out of herself with one big pull. The pain is blinding, crippling even, serrated edges doing a lot more damage pulling the knife out compared to it going in. She doesn’t even give Bobby a chance to be confused by what she was doing before swinging her arm forward, burying the knife into his exposed chest. 

“OW!” Bobby jumps back, mouth agape as his head whips between Kaitlyn and the knife sticking out of him. “You stabbed me!”

“Yeah — didn’t expect ‘little missy’ to give you a taste of your own fucking medicine, did you?” Kaitlyn spat. 

“I’ve never been stabbed before…” Bobby holds a hand over the knife. “Ow, this… really hurts…” Bobby turns away from her like he had completely forgotten she was even there, storming out of the door they had come in from. “DAAAAD!”

Kaitlyn would take the time to ponder over just how weird that whole interaction was if she wasn’t busy trying to slow her own blood spilling from her body. She’s got a hand pressed as tightly as she can against the wound, but there’s an alarming out of blood pouring out anyway, spilling past her clenched fingers. If she took her hand away, it’d probably be spurting out blood… Which means the knife must have hit an artery. 

Which means… nothing good. 

Something heavy hits the ground next to her. Kaitlyn nearly loosens her hold against her side as she startles, looking over to see it was Laura. Her eyes were a deep gold, skin so pale that the black streaks climbing up her face made it look like her skin was cracking apart. Her teeth were bared, quiet growl rumbling from her chest, and oh no — this wasn’t entirely Laura…

“...Laura?”

Those golden eyes lock in on her, and her growl increases in volume. Kaitlyn’s eyes widen, holding out a hand as if that was going to stop werewolf Laura from ripping her apart… “Laura, wait! It’s me! Kaitlyn! Not werewolf food!”

The fog of aggression fades from Laura’s eyes, snarl slipping off her face and being replaced with shock as Laura — the true Laura — takes in the sight of Kaitlyn, curled up on the floor, laying in a pool of her own blood. 

“Kaitlyn…?” She murmurs, looking down at Kaitlyn in horror. “Oh my god…” She rushes to Kaitlyn’s side, dropping down with hands outstretched, wanting to help but with no idea as to how. “What… What happened to you?”

“Big guy… Big knife...” Kaitlyn curls in on herself with a groan. “You can probably fill in the blanks…”

Kaitlyn pulls her hand away from her side for a moment, instantly regretting it when a terrifying amount of blood gushes out. Her hand snaps back into place, but she knows it won’t do much. At this point, she was just delaying the inevitable… 

“It’s okay… You’re… You’re gonna be okay,” Laura rambles.

Kaitlyn chuckles dryly, craning her head up to look at Laura. “You were supposed to work with Nurse Kelly back at camp, right?”

“Um… Yeah?”

“Right… and I had to take over your shifts. First aid responsibilities and all that. So I think we both know that this—” Kaitlyn looked pointedly to the puddle of blood she was laying in. “—Isn’t something that can just be stitched up.”

Laura’s face falls. “I…”

“--Was just trying to make me feel better. I know,” Kaitlyn says, managing a small smile. “I appreciate that. It’s just… not the truth, is it?”

“It’s… It’s a lot of blood,” Laura states the obvious. “Shit… I’m so sorry, Kaitlyn. I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have let you come along, that was—”

“Not your decision to make, remember?” Kaitlyn states firmly. “And this is not your fault. That lies solely on the big asshole that ran out of here crying for his daddy…”

“...What?”

“I might have stabbed him,” Kaitlyn admits. “He did stab me first, though. Only fair.”

Laura’s mouth flickers like she’s about to laugh, but nothing comes out. Not even a smile. It was too difficult to muster either right about now. 

Kaitlyn’s hands had begun to tremble as the effects of blood loss take hold. It felt like the rate at which she was losing blood was slowing down — but that was far from a good thing. The blood against her hands felt warm in comparison to her cold skin, and all she wanted to do was lay down and drift off to sleep, even though she knows full well that that was the last thing she should do. She was… she was dying. 

“Hey, so, uh… Promise you won’t think less of me for this, but uh…” Kaitlyn trails off, eyes scrunched close. “I’m… I’m scared. I’m… really fucking scared.”

Laura doesn’t trust herself to say anything. She reaches out a hand, gently taking hold of Kaitlyn’s. Laura might not have any words of comfort, but she hopes the small squeeze she gives Kaitlyn’s hand provides what her words would not. 

“When this whole shitty night began, I hoped that if I did die, it would at least be quick.” Kaitlyn’s grip on Laura’s hand is too lax for Laura’s liking. “Not just because there’d be less pain. Well, partly that; this does hurt.” Kaitlyn gives a weak laugh, regretting it instantly when the pain flares. “Least if you die quick, you don’t have time to think about it… Worry about… About what’s next. If there is something, or… eternal darkness.”

Laura’s fingers tighten their grip around Kaitlyn’s. Kaitlyn glances up at her, to her eyes — plural — and huffs at the thought that crosses her mind. “Could really use some of that werewolf healing of yours…”

There’s only a few seconds of silence after Kaitlyn’s statement before they both realize. Hope surges through Kaitlyn, snapping away some of the dreariness that had been threatening to drag her down. She doesn’t even have to convey the idea to Laura, recognizing that same light of hope shining in the other girl's eyes.

“Holy Shit…” Laura says with a laugh of disbelief. “Werewolf healing… Never thought I’d be glad to pass on this curse to someone else…”

“Will it even work?” Kaitlyn asks. “Given you’re… not a wolf right now?”

“I don’t see why not. I’m still infected while I’m… me, I guess. But, uh… I’m not gonna be ‘me’ for long, Kaitlyn. I can feel it, even now. Just under my skin, this… this thing trying to get out. I don’t have much time left. If I… If I bite you, and it works… You’ll heal, but…”

“I’ll be on a timer, too.”

“More than me, at least,” Laura said. “But that also means that… It’ll be up to you. If… If I turn, it’ll be up to you to find Chris Hackett before time is up. And unless you wanna be stuck with this curse too--”

“Then I’ll have to do something that’ll really piss Ryan off…” Kaitlyn muttered.

“Uh… Yeah, if that’s what you wanna worry about right now…” Laura leans back, resting her hands on her legs.

“Eh, my chances with him flew out the window the moment he heard Dylan call him ‘brooding, mysterious and alluring.’ ” Kaitlyn joked — by which she means, told the truth, but in a joking manner. “So… I can either bleed out and die… Or let you bite me, hope it works and heals me, then go find and kill my former boss who lied to us and nearly got us all killed?”

“Yep.”

Kaitlyn uses the last of her energy to hold up her arm to Laura. “Not much of a choice, is it?”

“Nope,” Laura easily agrees, sliding her grip down from Kaitlyn’s hand to her arm. “Especially since I’ll be turning soon, and then you won’t get a say in the matter anyway…”

“That too.”

The corner of Laura’s lips curl up, huffing softly as she curls her fingers around Kaitlyn’s wrist. She eyes the expanse of skin in her hands, swallowing harshly. “This, uh… This might hurt a little.”

Kaitlyn snorts. “More than being stabbed?”

“You’d be surprised…” Laura brings Kaitlyn’s arm up closer to her mouth. She pauses, looking over to Kaitlyn. “You sure about this?”

“Nope,” Kaitlyn says, then follows with, “So let’s get this over with me and bite me before I change my mind.”

Laura follows the command, pulling Kaitlyn’s arm towards her, teeth sinking into the soft flesh. It doesn’t take much force for the skin to be punctured, taste of iron quickly flooding over Laura’s tongue. Kaitlyn hisses in pain, instinctively trying to pull her hand away from Laura, whose grip only tightened to keep her in place. 

“Laura- Laura, stop, stop!” Kaitlyn yelps. Her pain-filled yells seem to snap Laura out of the trance she had slipped into at the taste of blood, yanking her mouth away from Kaitlyn’s arm. Kaitlyn pulls her arm back towards herself, cradling it to her chest, face scrunched in pain. 

“I was wrong… How’d that hurt more…” Kaitlyn groans, pulling her arm away to give the wound a better look. Blood was steadily oozing from the wide puncture marks, streaks of black already winding their way up her pale skin from the site of the bite. 

“Sorry…” Laura sheepishly apologizes, her chin coated in red. “Seems like it worked, at least…”

“Yay for not dying…” Kaitlyn cradles her arm again, fist clenched at the intense burn. “Did I at least ease your craving for a hamburger a little?”

Laura’s responding smile was perhaps made a little creepier than it should be by the blood staining her teeth. She brings up a hand to wipe away the blood on her face, tilting her head with a shrug. “Eh… A little raw for my tastes.”

A loud thud from someplace nearby steals their attention, signaling the small moment of rest they had found had come to an end. “Can you walk?” Laura asks, already getting to her feet. 

“Probably not,” Kaitlyn says, though holds out a hand for Laura to pick her up anyway. 

Laura pulls her up, wincing in sympathy at every little pained sound Kaitlyn makes as she struggled to her feet. She slings Kaitlyn’s arm around her shoulder, her worry only deepening at just how much Kaitlyn was having to lean her weight into her. “It’s okay… I got you.” Laura accompanies her statement with a small squeeze of Kaitlyn’s wrist, guiding the both of them towards the stairs she had jumped down from. 

“Yeah… I got you, too,” Kaitlyn promises, panting with the effort of a few steps. “So long as I don’t pass out…”

  * * *

  02:24 | AUGUST 23 — DYLAN

HACKETT SCRAPYARD

 Dylan was getting real damn tired of the universe trying to give him a heart attack. 

“God damn, son of a…” Dylan glares up at the much too bright light that had flicked on with the loudest sounding ‘clunk’ he’s ever heard. 

“It’s okay…” Ryan tries to reassure him as if Dylan hadn’t seen him jump out of his skin literal seconds ago alongside him. “They’re motion activated... I think. We must have set them off.”

“I hate this place already…” Dylan muttered. 

“Then let’s make this quick, shall we?” Ryan grabbed hold of the chainlink fence door, swinging it open. Dylan did his best to bite back a remark on the ominous-sounding creaks and groans it made, dutifully following Ryan into what he was sure would become their final resting site. 

“So, uh… what’s the missing part we’re looking for?” Dylan asks, squinting around at the piles upon piles of discarded and beat-up cars. 

“A rotor arm,” Ryan answers. The way he was scanning over each car and quickly moving on wasn’t giving Dylan much confidence this plan of theirs was going to work out…

“...And that looks like…?”

“It’s the…” Ryan turns around, about to explain, but then stops himself. “Actually… let’s make this easier. Basically, we need to find a car that still has an engine. Since… that’s where we’ll find the part we need.”

“Got it,” Dylan says much too confidently. “Quick question though: Aren’t most scrapyards filled with gutted cars that are busted beyond repair? And then… crushed?”

“...Mostly,” Ryan admits. “But they usually come here to be stripped. If we’re lucky, there might still be some cars in here they haven’t started work on yet.”

“Yeah, uh…” Dylan looks pointedly around to the carcasses of cars surrounding them, reducing to nothing more than rusting frames. 

“There’s probably more than just this.” Ryan tries his best to keep the hope alive. “Come on… Let’s keep looking.”

They move deeper into the scrapyard, every car they walk past looking as useless to them as the last. Dylan keeps close behind Ryan as they walk, following as he makes his way over to yet another chainlink gate. Although, when Ryan tries to pull it open this time, it doesn’t budge. “Huh… I can’t see a lock on it…” Ryan notes, dropping his hand away from the gate. 

“Not one you can open with a key, no,” Dylan steps up to his side, hand on his hip as he eyes the gate. “Looks mechanical….”

Dylan’s eyes are drawn to a small building sitting in the middle of the section they were in. There were two large garage doors at the front, both of them lifted up and left wide open. Dylan didn’t even say a word to Ryan, just headed on over to it. 

“Wha- Dylan, wait,” said Ryan, gesturing towards the gate they were trying to get in. “Where are you going?”

“As much as I’d love to see you show off your muscles, Ryan, I don’t think you’re going to overpower an electric gate.” Dylan walks backward as he answers, teasing grin on his face. “I mean… maybe Jacob could, but…”

“Yeah, I know what you’re trying to do, Dylan.” Ryan quickly caught up with Dylan, who still had yet to ease his gleeful grin. “Not gonna work.”

“Me? What- What am I doing?” Dylan asks with all the innocence in the world. “I’m not doing anything… I’m just saying, it’s hard for me not to notice those kinds of things… I mean, Jacob is the camp’s sports guy… How am I not supposed to notice how much stronger he is?”

“Uh-Huh…” Ryan drawled. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re not trying to make me jealous or something…”

“Huh… That’s weird…” Dylan says, voice alight with wonder. “Why would me talking about Jacob’s physique make you jealous, Ryan?”

Ryan nearly trips over his feet, coming to a halt at the entrance of the building. “What? It doesn’t. I’m not… I’m not jealous--”

“Then why are you getting all flushed and bothered?”

For some reason, Ryan actually brought up a hand to his face as if he would be able to wipe away the flush of heat to his face. He weakly glared up at Dylan, shaking his head at the boy’s victorious smile. “So does that mean Jacob’s your… type?” Ryan asks.

“...You mean straight guys? No, that usually ends in disaster--”

“Dylan--”

“No, he’s not my type, man,” Dylan says, words littered with laughter at the exasperation in Ryan’s voice. The joking manner he so easily slips into fades away as his eye catches Ryan’s, seeing something there he doesn’t usually see. Ryan was typically a very serious dude, but there was something there, something so… open. Enough so that Dylan felt he should at least have the decency to return Ryan’s seriousness in the situation. 

“I, uh... I think you know what my ‘type’ is…” 

Ryan’s lips almost flickered into a smile. “Yeah, I... I think I do."

There's a pause, the air between them filled with that kind of tension where it feels like something is going to snap. And then, Ryan says with a glint in his eyes, "It's Nick, right?"

Alright... Maybe Ryan wasn't being as serious as he thought...

The tension breaks in the form of Dylan nearly choking on his own laughter, not at all expecting that from Ryan – nor the warm, pleased smile on Ryan's face at the sound of Dylan's laughter. 

"Okay, well, that's not fair," Dylan said. "You were checking him out too!"

Ryan raised a hand in surrender, Dylan's words ringing truth. "Sure, if me 'checking him out' is like you noticing things."

"You said it yourself, Ryan. 'Steel barbeque grill', that's what you said. Can't take it back."

"Yeah, yeah..." Ryan rolled his eyes, looking away from Dylan's teasing smile and into the building they were standing just outside of. 

"Although, uh... I feel like won't be able to see Nick the same way, after..." Dylan's words brought Ryan's attention back to him. "I know it wasn't him, but... He got so possessive over Abi, right? I mean, at first... Then he was just... Not Nick. Like, at all. Before tonight, I could never imagine Nick hurting a fly, let alone a person. Let alone Abi. It was just... It was all so crazy..."

"Yeah..." Ryan softly agreed. "You're right though. Whatever happened... That wasn't Nick."

"Just glad that didn't happen to me..." Dylan twitches up his amputated arm. "...What would I have turned into? I mean, if Nick got like that with Abi, then I don't even wanna think about what I would have been like with..." 

Ryan raised an eyebrow as Dylan abruptly stopped mid-sentence. He waited for the rest of that statement which would never come as Dylan’s mouth swung shut, bringing that thought to an end. “We should, uh… We should probably keep looking…” Ryan suggests, trying to dig Dylan out of his own awkward situation. 

Dylan cleared his throat, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, yeah, that- that’s probably… Yeah.”

Dylan immediately heads over to the wooden table that sat in the middle of the room, lit up by a warm bulb buzzing just overhead. It’s not too much of a surprise that it’s the big green button on the table that had grabbed his attention, reaching out to press it down. 

“Dylan, wait--” Ryan snatches Dylan’s hand midair, eyes wide in alarm. “What are you doing?”

“Uh… Pressing the big button?” Dylan answers, eyes darting between said button and Ryan. 

“We don’t know what it does!” Ryan said, still holding onto Dylan’s hand. 

“Come on, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s green!”

“So?”

“So it’s not like it’s a big red button.”

Ryan narrowed his eyes at Dylan. “I think we both know you’d want to press it even more if it was.”

Dylan tilted his head in thought, then slowly nodded his head. “Yeah… I guess that’s true.”

Ryan sighed, releasing his grip on Dylan’s arm. 

“But I’m still gonna press this one--”

“Dylan--!”

Ryan can’t get out much more than his name before Dylan’s slamming his hand down on the button. Fortunately, Ryan only has a single second to ponder over all the horrors that could have come from pressing the button before his worries are squashed. They both looked over at the creaking sounds of the gate swinging open, Ryan releasing a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding when nothing else happens. 

“Kinda wish I hadn’t pressed it…” says Dylan, realizing he had just opened up even more dark-as-hell, creepy-ass scrapyard for them to explore. “Oh, God… We’re gonna end up as guests on some true crime or paranormal podcast, aren’t we?”

"Well… That at least insinuates that we survive this if we’re gonna be guests, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, no, I meant guests as in ‘the two mutilated bodies found ripped apart and scattered around the scrapyard’…”

Ryan snorted, giving Dylan’s shoulder a shove. “No. I’m not gonna let that happen. Now come on, let’s--”

“Uh, shouldn’t we take a look around here first?” Dylan asks, gesturing with a thumb over his shoulder to the garage behind him. 

“Why?”

“...Isn’t this, like… where they actually work on the cars?” Dylan points out. “Maybe there’s a car in here they were still working on. Y’know, with engine still intact. Or even just parts laying about, right?”

Ryan hummed, regarding Dylan with a thoughtful eye. “You just want to avoid going out there, don’t you?”

“...I mean, yeah. That too.”

Ryan shook his head as a smile slipped through the cracks, taking a hand away from his shotgun to gesture it into the building. “Alright… Let’s take a look.”

It doesn’t take long for them to sweep the downstairs of the building, finding nothing but old mechanic tools that were of no use to them. There was a car that had been hoisted up into the air, but Ryan could see from first glance that it had already been stripped of most of its parts. It was starting to look like a waste of time, but Dylan still led them up the stairs and to the walkway, making sure they had exhausted every possibility before moving on. 

“Huh… Hey, Ryan, check this out.” Dylan picks up a calendar that had been sat on a table, glancing over to make sure Ryan was headed over. The calendar was one of those typical ones you see in most mechanic shops, only difference was this one had the 22nd circled, the words ‘FULL MOON!’ scrawled in bright red marker. 

“What?” Ryan asked. Dylan passes the calendar over to Ryan, whose confused frown only deepens as he glances over it. 

“Kinda seems like they had it all planned out…” Dylan notes, tapping on the circled date. “That’s definitely handwritten, right? Like… They don’t sell calendars that just point out the full moons. I mean… maybe they do, but it’d still be weird if the Hackett’s bought one, wouldn’t it?”

“No, it’s… it’s handwritten…” Ryan’s eyes scan over and over the calendar. But there wasn’t much to look at. Every box, every date was blank… All except for the 22nd. All except for last night.

All except for the full moon. 

Dylan leaves Ryan to his thoughts, walking down to the end of the walkway. There isn’t much for him to find other than a lone piece of paper. It looked to be official paperwork for the scrapyard if the big bold block letters spelling out ‘HACKETT SCRAP METAL’ were of any indicator. There was a table underneath that you’re supposed to fill in, but whoever had scribbled over it didn’t seem too concerned about doing things the proper way. 

“What the…” Dylan leans forward for a closer look. The vehicle's registration had at least been filled in, but hastily written over the rest of the table was a message:

‘SUV — BODY DAMAGE

Keep this off the books and out the way!

-T’

“You find something?” Ryan asks from just behind Dylan, having finally put the calender back down. 

“Uh, yeah. Not what we’re looking for, but…” Dylan turns around, holding out the paper to Ryan. “I think they might have been cooking the books a little…”

Ryan takes the paper, and it only takes him a few seconds to read all there is. But Dylan could see the way Ryan practically deflated with every word he read, some of the hopeful shine in his eyes dulling. 

“I don’t get it though… Why would you need to cook the books for a scrapyard?” Dylan asks. 

“If you’ve got something to hide I guess…” Ryan mutters, letting the misery soak into every one of his words. 

“Okay… But why would they need to hide a car?” Dylan continues to question. “And whose car is…” Dylan trails off, the pieces of the puzzle clicking together. “Holy Shit, Ryan, it’s--”

“Yeah…” Ryan seemed to have come to the same conclusion the same time as Dylan. He looks away from the paper, defeated eyes meeting Dylan’s. “It’s Laura and Max’s car.”

“T… Laura said the cop's name was Travis, didn’t she? As in…”

“Travis Hackett. Chris’ brother.” Ryan flung the piece of paper back down onto the table. “…Sheriff of North Kill…”

“Yeah, I… I guess if he needed to make Laura and Max, uh… disappear, then… he’d have to get rid of their car, too…” Dylan said, looking out to the dark of the scrapyard. “And what better place than your own family’s scrap yard…”

“Only body damage…” Ryan mumbled under his breath, staring into nothing as he thinks.

“Huh?”

“Only body damage…. So the engine’s fine,” Ryan explains, snapping out of his thoughts. “If we’re lucky, their car’s still here.”

“Would it be?” Dylan asks. “Wouldn’t they want to… get rid of it as fast as possible? It has been, like… what, two months?”

“You never know.” Ryan shrugs one shoulder, returning both hands to his grip on the shotgun. “It’s our best bet of getting out of here. Might not have to even fix the minivan; their car could run perfectly fine without any work.”

“Did I tell you I really hate it when you use logic on me?” Dylan says, being rewarded with the tiniest of smiles from Ryan — even when the poor guy was probably feeling at his lowest. “I mean don’t get me wrong, it’s sexy as hell, but it also means walking further into the nightmare that is Hackett’s Scrap Metal scrapyard, so…”

“Then it’s a good thing I brought protection.” Ryan pats the shotgun, shooting Dylan a sly smile as he turns back towards the stairs. 

Dylan follows after him with as dramatic a sigh as he can muster. “You have no idea how much I wish we were actually talking about condoms this time…”

Ryan very nearly falls down the stairs, catching himself just in time. “Why?” He tries to save face. “Did a bear end up catching your eye tonight after all?”

“Something like that…” Dylan says, walking side by side with Ryan as they head towards the now open gate. “Truth is, this 'bear' caught my eye way before tonight.”

“And… ‘Way before’ is…?”

“Oh, y’know… Beginning of summer.” Dylan doesn’t even dare look at Ryan, just keeps his gaze straight ahead, heading towards the large open container that was their only way through the piles of destroyed and worthless car frames. “And I wouldn’t really say he was a ‘bear’, he’s kinda like…” Dylan paused, humming in thought. “Like a cat, actually.”

“...A cat?”

“Yeah. I mean… cats love to be all independent, right? But they still love being around people. They’ll hang around you, accept your pets… but they know when they’ve had enough. Sometimes they just wanna be left to their own devices, so they’ll slink off someplace else for some alone time. And it’s not like you get offended or anything. It’s just… what they do.”

“Uh… Sure?”

“And have you seen a cat when they get threatened?” Dylan asks. “They don’t back down in the slightest, like they seem themselves as this great big tiger and not… y’know a cat. But at the end of the day? Those claws can still do some damage.”

“I… I guess…”

“And I know some people can see them as… I don’t know, selfish I guess? Like they only care about themselves, and they only hang around because it’s what’s convenient or beneficial to them but… I don’t. Because… I know better than anyone that looks can be deceiving. And if you just… get to know them a little, you’ll see they're actually the most loyal, loving companion someone could have.”

They had come to a stop just at the end of the container, half in half out. Dylan still couldn’t find it within himself to meet Ryan’s eyes, scuffing at the dirt under his shoes as he speaks. “But still… There are times where you wonder if… if a cat actually likes being with you or… or if maybe they just… tolerate you.”

“Dylan…” Ryan begins, but if there’s an end to that sentence, Dylan never finds out. Ryan moves towards him, further out of the container, and they’re instantly blinded. The motion light overhead kicks in with yet another obnoxiously loud ‘clunk’, and then immediately proceeds to explode, showering them in sparks. 

“Fuck!” Dylan cranes his head up to curse at the now broken light, holding out a hand towards Ryan. “Give me the damn gun, Ryan, I’ll shoot out the rest--”

“That sounds like a terrible idea,” Ryan wisely denies Dylan his request, pulling the gun closer towards himself and away from Dylan’s reach.

“Fine…” Dylan grumbles. He takes in a deep breath to calm himself, his glare at the light only weakening slightly. He lets out his breath in one big exhale, tearing his eyes away from the light and over to Ryan. “Hey, did you notice though?” Dylan asks, pointing to the light. 

“Notice what? It exploding?”

“No.” Dylan smiled at Ryan’s baffled face, holding out his arms to either side of him. “We made sparks fly, Ryan.”

Ryan looks away to hide the smile he had to bite down, moving past Dylan and continuing forward, further into the scrapyard. “Good one…”

Dylan catches up, his arm brushing against Ryan’s shoulder as they walk. “Ah, you love it.”

Ryan hums, whether in agreement or disagreement, Dylan doesn’t know. But he could still see the hint of a smile on Ryan’s lips so… maybe he can be a little overconfident and think it’s the former?

They walk together through the narrow pathways of the scrapyard, surrounded by walls upon walls of cars they barely give a glance to. All of the cars here looked old, much too old to be Laura and Max’s car. It was seeming more and more likely that the Hackett’s had done a quick job of disposing of their car, every bit of evidence of the car's existence now gone from this place… 

Something a great deal more colorful than the rusting cars was sat almost hidden away in a corner of the yard, colorful enough that Dylan gives it a double take as they pass. “Ryan,” Dylan reaches out his good hand and wraps it around Ryan’s wrist, who lets Dylan pull him to a stop. “You see that?”

Ryan follows Dylan’s stare. “The signs? What about them?”

Dylan doesn’t answer, but instead pulls Ryan along with him towards the signs. One of them had been placed on its side, leaning up against one of the containers, practically half-buried with a bunch of other junk. Whilst colorful, the sign was starting to show signs of age and general wear and tear left exposed to the elements out here. Once bright purple and greens were faded, some of the paint even beginning to peel and chip away. 

“Harum Scarum…” Dylan reads aloud, looking first to the one that wasn’t on its side.“Ever heard of it?”

“Yeah, actually…” Ryan answers, much to Dylan’s surprise. “It was in the podcast I was listening to…”

“Bizzare Yet Bonafide?”

Ryan looks up to Dylan in surprise, not expecting for him to have remembered the name of the podcast. “Uh... Yeah, they talked about it in the ‘Hag of Hackett’s Quarry’ episode. They were sort of like… a traveling show, I guess. They’d go from place to place, set up camp and stay for a while, and make some money from their show. Then they’d… move on to someplace new.”

“So… they came here?” Dylan asks, pointing to the sign. 

“Their last stop, actually…” Ryan says. “They came to North Kill about six years ago. But something went wrong. A fire broke out, and… No one survived.”

“Okay… What’s that got to do with Hackett’s Quarry?”

“Well, it was nearby, apparently. The fire’s where the whole ‘Hag’ thing came from. Some people say she was an attendee of the show, others say she was part of it. Either way, she died in the fire, and now her ghost haunts the woods of Hackett’s Quarry looking for her lost baby boy. According to the stories, anyway.”

“Huh. So, uh… How did the sign end up here? If it was part of the show and part of the… fire, wouldn’t it be used for evidence or something?”

“I don’t know, dude. It probably was, but it was six years ago. They said it happened near Hackett property, so… Could have been near here. This place was probably the closest and best place to dispose of it.”

“Guess that makes sense…” Dylan reached out a hand towards the other sign, wiping away the buildup of dust and ash. He tilted his head to the side, reading the painted words. “...Eliza the Fortune Teller? Like… crystal ball and tarot cards? That kind of stuff?”

“I guess so,” Ryan replied. 

“Could sure do with my fortune being read right about now,” says Dylan, stepping away from the discarded signage and turning to Ryan. “Actually, scratch that. With my luck, my tarot reading would probably just be a card with a super dead dude on it, so--”

“Run…!”

“Away from this place…!”

“Out…!”

“Danger is coming…!”

“Oh, hell no, dude!” Dylan practically jumps towards Ryan, grabbing hold of his sleeve for… safety? Comfort? Something like that. They both search frantically around for wherever the hell those whispers could have come from, finding nothing but their own panicked faces. 

“What the fuck was that?” Dylan asks, fingers still scrunched tightly into Ryan’s shirt. “You did hear that, right?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I- I heard it,” Ryan somewhat stammers. 

“That’s the third time I’ve heard that creepy shit,” Dylan complains. 

“Wait… third?”

“Remember, back in Mr. H’s office?” Dylan recalls. “When I picked up that old-ass phone, I… I could have sworn I heard someone whisper my name all creepy, like… well, like that. And then again in the lodge, before we went back up to Mr. H’s room.”

“I… I didn’t hear it either of those times.”

“What, you haven’t had your name creepily whispered into your ear tonight?”

“Uh… No?”

“...Should I be concerned the detached ghost whisper has signaled me out twice? And is now telling us to get the fuck out of here?” Dylan asks.

“I… I don’t know--”

“Oh, geez. Great, Ryan. Because that makes me feel so much better…”

“What do you want me to say, man?” Ryan snapped, voice rising in agitation. “I’ve got no fucking clue what’s going on anymore. Because on one hand, I’m supposed to believe that there are actual werewolves prowling about and hunting us down. And on the other hand, I’m also now supposed to believe that the goddamn ‘Hag of Hackett’s Quarry’ is real, and… haunting-slash-warning us?”

“This just keeps getting more and more fucked up…” Dylan releases his tight grip on Ryan’s shirt, making somewhat of an effort to smooth out the crinkles he’d made. “Sorry…”

“It’s fine…” Ryan mumbled, closing his eyes with a sigh. “Sorry for… yelling at you.”

“I’d barely call that a yell, Ryan. And it’s fine, you… you’re stressed, same as everyone else.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I should take it out on you. I just… I want this to all be over, and for everyone to be okay. But… fuck, look what’s happened already! You’re hurt, Nick’s… whatever the hell he is, we’ve got no idea where Jacob is, or if he's even alive. Kaitlyn’s off with some eyepatch chick who killed Kaylee, and--”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa- hey! Breathe, Ryan. Breathe.” Dylan wasn’t used to seeing Ryan like this. But just because Ryan was good at keeping up a brave face and powering through it all didn’t mean the stress was eating away at him, too. It was only a matter of time before the levy broke, and Dylan was more than ready to be the one for Ryan to lean on. “Look, I’m not gonna lie, man… This is all so fucked. But we’ve made it this far, alright? That’s not by coincidence. I know you’re worried about the others; I am too. But we might as well make do with that worry and find a way to help them, right?”

“...Shouldn’t it be me telling you all that?” Ryan attempted to joke, some of the panic starting to dissipate from his eyes. 

“Maybe you’re starting to rub off on me.” Dylan smiled. “Or maybe I thought about how you’ve spent the whole night trying to stay rational and keep everyone safe, and it’s about time someone returned the favor and made sure you’re okay.”

Ryan smiled back at him, taking a hand off the shotgun to place it on Dylan’s shoulder. “I’m okay… Really, I am. Just… like you said: This is all so fucked.”

“Good thing I have some good news then,” Dylan says, gesturing with a flick of his chin to something behind Ryan. Ryan’s hand slips away from Dylan’s shoulder, turning around and looking up to where Dylan had gestured to. 

“I think we found Laura and Max’s car.”

A crane towered over them, yellow paint gleaming in the light of the full moon. The crane wasn’t what was important, though. What was important was the SUV attached to the crane, held in midair by the crane's powerful magnet. Unlike the other vehicles that occupied the Hackett’s scrapyard, this car didn’t appear to have a single speck of rust on it. In fact… it looked to be in almost damn near perfect condition from where Dylan was standing. 

But… he was not a mechanic, so… that statement should be taken with a grain of salt. 

Ryan huffs in disbelief, some of the tension in his body fading away at the sight of the car. “I think you might be right.”

“Well, yeah, I’m right like… ninety-eight percent of the time.”

“After tonight, I’ve come to the realization that that is one hundred percent true.” Ryan’s compliment brought a light dusting of pink to Dylan’s face. “In which case… Any ideas as to how we can get it down from there? I was gonna say I guess you’ve never used one of these before, but at this point, it’s best not to assume anything with you.”

“In this instance, your guess was correct. But I did use to be pretty, pretty good at the claw game at my local arcade…” Dylan claims, head held high with pride. “The kids used to call me ‘The Grabber’.”

“Okay, great. In that case, you should probably be the one to-- wait, they called you what?”

“The Grabb--” A dawning look of horror crossed Dylan’s face. “Oh no. Oh God, I… I used to run around proudly calling myself that…”

“So long as the kids don’t still call you that…”

“No, Ryan. They don’t. And I hope you know a little piece of my childhood just died forever.”

“My condolences,” Ryan said dryly, barely able to keep the amused smirk off his face. “Would getting to use the big crane cheer you up?”

“Dude, I’m not seven,” Dylan scoffed, side-eyeing said crane. “…But yes, yes it would. I mean, I’m also kinda terrified something’s gonna jump out from the trees and make a bee-line towards the giant crane moving about, but…”

“I’ll watch over you,” Ryan promised, the statement catching Dylan off guard. 

“I know you will,” Dylan said softly, shy smile pulling at his lips. “And I hope you know I will too. Just… without a gun. Or a hand to hold and fire a gun. Basically, I’ll be useless if something happens, but the sentiment's still there, right?”

The warmth held in Ryan's eyes as he looked at Dylan answered his question before Ryan even spoke. "Yeah... It's still there."

“Okay…” Dylan exhaled deeply, mentally hyping himself up for what’s ahead. “Guess I’ll see you in a sec.”

Dylan climbed the short climb up the stairs of the crane, thankful that this piece of machinery was at least in good condition. Honestly, it’s a miracle the door doesn’t just crumble apart in his hands as he pulls it open given the state of everything else in this scrapyard. 

“Alright… Looks like somebody's mom didn’t teach them to clean up after themselves…” Dylan picks up a box of tools that had been left on the chair, discarding it to the side. He drops down into the now sittable chair, glancing around at the numerous switches, levers, and other controls surrounding him. “Doesn’t look too complicated…”

There are a few switches by his right side that appear to have been flicked down into an ‘off position’. Dylan reaches over to them, pointer finger flicking them up one by one. Sure enough, he’s greeted by the sound of the crane whirring to life, his guess proving correct. “Welcome back, Grabber…”

His victory is short-lived however as the gentle whir of electronics is replaced by the not-so-gentle sounds of heavy rock and bright warning lights flashing around him. “Oh shit--” Dylan frantically smacks at the buttons, desperately trying to find the ‘off’ button to the shredding guitar riffs, high energy drums, and screaming vocals that, let’s face it, was practically a damn dinner bell for the hungry Hackett’s out there. 

“Dylan?” Ryan’s voice calls down to him from below, equal parts worry and confusion in his voice. “Dude?! The hell are you doing?”

“My bad!” Dylan calls back, having finally managed to turn off the music. He leans back into the chair, giving the controls another look over. “Alright… Here goes nothing.”

There’s a big lever in front of him that actually does kinda look like the joystick of those claw machines at the arcade. With a shrug, Dylan grabs hold and pulls it to the left. With a lurch, the arm of the crane — and the cabin he was sitting in — begins to rotate in the same direction he had pulled the stick. It doesn’t take much more maneuvering to lower the car down to where Ryan was waiting, gently placing it down on the ground. 

“Nice one, Dylan!” Ryan yells up, and the genuine pride he hears in Ryan’s voice only strengthens his own proud smile. 

“Yeah, uh… I think I’ve found my calling!”

“Nothing stopping you from being a quantum physicist who also happens to be certified to operate a crane!” Ryan jokes back, already making his way into the car to check it over. 

Dylan chuckles quietly to himself in the cabin, taking the time to relax now his part was done. For the most part, anyway. It was… surprisingly easy to operate such a heavy piece of machinery. And… alright, he’ll admit it — it was fun as hell, too. Maybe Ryan was onto something… Maybe he’ll take a look into crane operation courses…

Clunk. 

“Oh… No…” There’s that dreaded sound again. The waning remnants of a smile on his face slip away as one of the motion sensor lights ahead flicker on, lighting up the darkness of the scrapyard. And yet, he can’t see what activated it. 

Clunk.

Another flickers on down the path. Whatever was moving around down there was moving fast. It was moving fast, and it was headed this way.

Headed straight toward Ryan.

“Shit. Shit, um--” He had to tell him. He had to warm him before it was upon him. There’s a button in front of him — a red button this time — and Dylan doesn’t hesitate to slam his hand down on it. A horn blares out from the crane, startling Ryan so bad that he manages to slam his head on the roof of the car. 

“Ow!” Ryan hisses, reversing out of the passenger door, rubbing at the forming bump on his head. He glances up at Dylan, unoccupied arm held out to his side in the universal sign of ‘What the fuck, dude?’

“There’s something coming!” Dylan yells down to him, and suddenly the bump on his head becomes the least of Ryan’s concerns. He freezes in place, reaching for a shotgun that was no longer in his possession. 

“Hide!” The command unfreezes Ryan, who promptly scrambles back into the car. He just barely manages to slam the door closed, looking out the glass windows that never seemed quite so fragile to see one of the beasts prowling atop one of the containers, ravenous eyes fixated on its dinner in a box. 

Dylan yanks at the lever, lifting the car up from the ground. Ryan steadies himself, hands pressed against the sides of the car as it lurches up. He can only watch as the werewolf slinks over to the side of the container, deadly claws digging into metal that shouldn’t be so easily dug into as it readies itself. It leaps forward, towards the car, towards Ryan, and…

It misses.

At first.

“Whoa--” The car shakes violently as the werewolf latches onto the bottom of the car, the extra weight putting strain on the magnet holding the car in mid-air. Ryan's eyes dart around the darkened interior of the car, trying to find the shotgun he was sure he had placed on the backseat. His attention is quickly taken away as the car rocks, weight shifting as the werewolf clings to the back of the car. Ryan tries to shuffle even further away, already backed up in the corner as the werewolf snarls at him from just outside the back window. 

“DYLAN!” 

“Oh fuck--” The fear laced into Ryan’s voice as he yelled for him was doing nothing to calm Dylan’s nerves. But the reality that, if he didn’t calm his nerves, if he didn’t think clearly, right here, right when it’s most important, would mean he’d lose Ryan? Just like that, a wave of calmness washes over him. He could do this. He had done this already — he knew how to think things through, even when things were going to shit around him. 

So… He’ll do as he did last time. Him, and Ryan… Facing a threat that can’t be taken down by conventional means… They can’t kill it… So… He needs to distract it. He needs to distract it with…

With sound…

His hand finds the button again, wincing at the ear-piercing volume of the horn. The werewolf seems to agree with his distaste given its attempts to cover its ears with its giant paws, howling in agony in response to the blaring horn. 

The flash of something dropping out of the car catches Dylan’s eye, and it takes his frazzled mind a moment to comprehend that that something was fucking Ryan leaping out of the car. Dylan hurriedly leans closer to the window, sighing in relief when he sees that Ryan hadn’t just splattered on the ground. Still, he could see that it was quite a fall, and given the way that Ryan was sluggishly making an attempt to crawl away, he probably wasn’t in the best of shape.

Wait… Where was the werewolf…?

Dylan leans back, looking over to where he had last seen the werewolf, only to find it was gone. No longer was it hanging onto the back of the car. In fact, it wasn’t on the car at all. Now it was clambering up the arm of the crane, headed towards where it had heard the horn blasts coming from. Towards the source of its pain. Towards… him.

“Oh shit…” Time to think on his feet again. What were the chances of sound working again? Not great, given it had only held off the werewolf from ripping Ryan apart for all of about five seconds. He had no gun, nor any silver or… the proper ability to even fire a gun. There wasn’t anything in this cabin apart from some leftover tools; wrenches, hammers, and…

Huh.

Was that a welding torch?

Dylan snatches it up from the ground, the heavy weight of it reassuring him that there was still some gas or fuel or whatever powered this thing in there. The werewolf was getting closer and closer, essential seconds ticking away. Dylan frantically shakes the little metal contraption, thumb pressing over and over again at the trigger as small spurts of flames flicker out of the end. 

Suddenly, it’s upon him. Blood-red eyes peer at him through the window, which promptly shatters as the beast brings a clawed hand down on it. With one last push of the trigger the torch bursts into life, the darkness of the cabin replaced with fiery oranges and glowing purples.

In this moment, with the burning heat of the torch radiating across his skin, the power of it held in his hand… 

He felt pretty fucking unstoppable. 

The werewolf takes a swipe at him, lanky arm reaching in through the shattered window. In one quick motion, Dylan dodges the claws that were inches away from slicing through his skin, pushing the torch as much as he dares in the wolf’s direction and pulling the trigger. Fire erupts from the torch once more, and the wolf’s hungry snarls quickly turn to ones of pain as the flames wash over its face. 

It can only withstand the blistering heat for a few seconds. It leaps away from the crane, apparently deciding that Dylan was more trouble than he was worth. Dylan doesn’t even get a chance to bathe in the relief he deserves as his eyes follow the werewolf’s path, seeing it drop back down, right behind Ryan. Ryan, who still had yet to get to his feet. Ryan, who no longer had the gun. 

Ryan glanced behind him at the sound of the werewolf hitting the ground, coming to those previous realizations the same time as Dylan had. He continued to scuffle back and away from the werewolf, which was slowly advancing toward him. “Dylan! Holy mother of… Fuck, Dylan!”

Dylan drops the welding torch, his hands returning to the controls of the crane. He pushes forward on the stick, but it resists, seemingly stuck in place. “Come… On… You… Rusty… Bitch…” With one big push, the lever becomes unstuck, finally responding to his commands. Dylan doesn’t even have time to worry over getting this just right, and can only rely on eyeing the position of the car to Ryan and the werewolf that was mere seconds away from pouncing. He takes in a deep breath, praying all those years of mastering the claw machine at the arcade would pay off, and hits the release button. 

The car crashes to the ground in a cacophony of screeching metal. Dylan doesn’t even wait for the dust to clear to get a good look. He’s out of his seat in seconds, racing down the metal stairs and to where he can only hope he won’t find Ryan’s flattened corpse. He gets to the bottom of the stairs, racing around the corner. Then, he stops, chest heaving with every breath. There was Ryan, shotgun back in hand, limping his way towards him. 

“Oh thank fuck--” Dylan leans over, taking a moment to catch his breath. “Fuck, I thought I’d squished you…”

“Nope… Still alive…” Ryan groaned, holding a hand to his side. "Just about..."

Dylan raised his head back up, brow furrowing with his concern at the pained grimace on Ryan’s face. “You okay?”

“Am I okay?” Ryan asks, and Dylan’s a little taken aback by the look of pure awe on Ryan’s face. “Dylan… You just saved my life, man.”

“Ah…” Dylan jokingly dismisses the claim with a wave of his hand. “All in a day’s work. Besides…” Dylan holds up his amputated hand, giving Ryan a knowing smirk. “You saved mine. Only fair I return the favor.”

“Yeah, but, dude… holy shit!” Ryan bursts out. “The car, and the- the crane. You got me out of the way, and then… fuck, the timing and the precision to drop it just right, and… And I could have sworn I saw fire?”

”Oh, yeah, uh…” Dylan glances back up at the cabin, lazily flicking a hand in the direction of the cabin. “There was like… this welding torch or something. I kinda… set the werewolf on fire.”

Ryan just stared slack-jawed at Dylan for a moment, perhaps a little perplexed by how calmly Dylan had made that statement. “Dylan… You’re fucking incredible, dude.”

Dylan ducked his head at the compliment, but with the light from the full moon, it was next to impossible for Ryan to miss the pleased little smile on his face.

The creaking of the car from behind them interrupts the moment. Both their heads snap towards it, Dylan shuffling closer to Ryan. 

“Isn’t it… Isn’t it dead?” Ryan asks, bringing up the shotgun. 

“Guess not…” Dylan uttered quietly.

“How? You dropped a whole ass car on it…”

“Yeah, but Laura said we needed to use silver, didn’t she?”

“Right… Silver…” Ryan muttered. The car almost sounded like it was groaning, metal being bent as the pinned creature beneath began to shift around. 

“Uh… That’s our cue to get the hell out of here, right?”

“Yep,” Ryan happily agreed, reaching a hand out behind him to tug on Dylan’s arm, encouraging him to start walking back with him. Dylan easily went with him, both keeping their eyes on the car as they make their way out of the scrapyard. 

It’s not until they’re safely past the gates and back into the woods — without the thudding sounds of the wolf’s paws following — that they let themselves relax a little. Of course, that’s not to say they weren’t frequently glancing behind them as they walked, double-checking they weren’t being followed. 

“You know, I think it’s about time I reclaim and rebrand my former title,” Dylan says, splaying his hands — well, hand and one stub — out in front of him. “ ‘The Grabber’ comes to the rescue and saves the day!”

“Nope…” Ryan shakes his head. “Still doesn’t sound right.”

“Pfft, whatever.” Dylan drops his arms back down. “So… Guess I can add ‘works well under pressure’ to my college resume, huh?”

Ryan tilted his head down in agreement. “Sure. Feel free to write me down as a reference if you need one.”

“Really?” Dylan asked. “ I mean… If I’m gonna put you down as a reference… Kinda seems like I’d need your number.”

Ryan came to a stop, to which Dylan also stopped. Ryan was looking at Dylan with narrowed eyes, tone light with amusement as he said, “Uh-huh…”

“How else are people gonna contact you as my reference?” Dylan asked, the picture of innocence

Ryan hummed. “You know what? We survive the rest of the night, you can have whatever the hell you want. You friggen deserve it at this point…”

“I… think you’re promising more than you intend to there, Ryan.”

Ryan just smiled, this almost unnoticeable pull to the corner of his mouth that made Dylan’s mouth go dry. He glanced away from Dylan for a split second, a split second that had Dylan panicking over whether he’d just said something he shouldn’t before Ryan’s eyes are back on him, locked into each other's gazes. 

“I promised exactly what I meant to promise.”

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