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thecreelhouse · 18 days

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“What did you just say?” WOAH

hi bb! apologies for the wait and for getting a lil carried away on this one, but I hope you enjoy it <3 just a lil over 2k, enemies to lovers, mean(ish)!steve, dacryphilia, etc.

You hate slow shifts at work.

Correction: you hate slow shifts while working with Steve.

It was busier in the first half of the day, or so Robin said before clocking out, but once evening fell on a quiet Wednesday night, there had to be about 5 or so customers that came into the store. All spaced out by hours dragging in between.

Those hours drag much more when Steve’s around. You’ve come close to quitting a few times after working together, but once you found it brought him only more satisfaction to make you miserable, you decided to tough it out, stay out of pure spite.

That spite only encouraged Steve to become insufferable, burrowing under your skin any chance he’d get. It’s just been a back and forth, one-upping competition of who could be more terrible to the other ever since. Robin has tried mediating between the both of you with no progress in sight. Keith has warned you both, separately and together, that you’re on thin ice if this keeps up.

A shitty job at Family Video was not worth all of this stress, but you can’t bring yourself to back down now. Steve, still cocky and competitive when the right things set him off, couldn’t lose to you and your spiteful, bratty antics.

By now, neither of you could even remember why you couldn’t stand the other, but any reason wouldn’t matter now anyway. Something, something about Steve claiming you’re some “washed up slut”, how you always believe you’re right in any situation, and other shit that rolls off your back by now. You’ve thrown ugly remarks in return, something along the lines of him being a “failure whose only friends are a bunch of kids”, how it’s only the desperate girls throwing themselves at him, stuff like that.

All of that tension and fury have to lead to something eventually.

It only leads somewhere that you least expect.

Steve’s pocketing his third number of the night, given by yet another girl he lays the generic flirting on thick with.

With a wink, he tells her, “I’ll call you later.”

You retch behind him at the far end of the counter. She never notices, but Steve sure does. When the girl leaves, it’s just you and Steve alone in the store, your least favorite time of closing shifts with him.

Striding over to the front door, you lock it and flip the “closed” sign, mocking Steve as you mutter under your breath, “I’ll call you later.” Your tone’s whiny, comical, but Steve’s not laughing.

“Jesus, try a little harder if you’re gonna poke fun at me,” He rolls his eyes, leaning against the counter with his eyes on you. When you turn around, you spot the way his stare lingers on your legs, on display in the skirt you decided to wear. “Y’know, I don’t think that skirt’s short enough for you. Usually you’re flashing more skin than that.”

Your lip curls in a snarl, flipping him off as you walk back to the counter. You gather some tapes to return to the shelves, throwing over your shoulder, “Sorry, Harrington, the free shows are over.”

It doesn’t shake his stare off as you walk away; he’s pissed you always wear outfits that only accentuate your body’s features. Makes it harder for him to focus on work, or flirting with other girls. You’re the worst distraction Steve’s ever encountered.

You don’t even need to turn around to feel his gaze on you. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer, loser.”

With a disgusted huff, Steve grabs another stack of tapes to restock on the opposite side of the store. He can’t even focus on such a basic task, though. He’s bothered, to say the least; he’s shed the ‘King Steve’ persona years ago, realizing his faults while becoming a better person, for not just himself, but everyone around him.

Except you.

You’re the one person he’s ready to snap over. You’re the one roadblock in his way while he tries his hardest to move forward from his past. You’re the one asshole he considers throwing his progress aside just to make you cry, make you regret treating him like he’s lower than dirt.

Steve can’t think too much about wanting to see you cry, wanting to make you cry— it got him hard last time, and he’s still revolted by his body betraying him like that. It was something he couldn’t shake from his thoughts, not until he finally fucked his fist over the fantasies his lust painted out for him, all involving you.

He’d rather fight off another demogorgon than think of you like that.

You’re humming along to whatever song is playing softly over the store’s speakers, grabbing more tapes to put away. He looks up as you pass the aisle he’s in, noticing the lollipop in your mouth, and the dirty titles making up the tapes you carry to the back.

Steve knows better, knows he should leave you alone, finish his work, but he follows you into the adult section anyway.

Leaning against the doorframe, he watches you stretch up to the top shelf, unable to hold back as he mouths off, “Damn, you’re fast putting all that porn back, must know ‘em pretty well.”

You look back after settling back on your feet, brow quirking, “Oh, no! A girl watches porn! How scandalous!” You turn back to the shelves, continuing your task. “Get over yourself, Steve.”

That wasn’t the answer he expected, but there wasn’t an answer he had in mind anyway. Instead of leaving you alone, being the bigger person and dropping the insults, for once, he continues to taunt you.

While walking up behind you, Steve asks, “Are you even allowed to wear shit like that here?”

“I wear whatever I wanna wear.” You don’t turn to respond to him, don’t give him the basic respect to make eye contact. “What’s it to you?”

“Just wondering if it’s a slut thing,” He shrugs, grabbing some tapes from your hands. His hand ever so slightly brushes up along your chest, earning a scowl from you, “y’know, wearing skirts for easy access.”

You sputter, choking on air briefly. “I’m sorry?”

“You heard me.”

“For someone who hates me, you sure love talking about my supposed sex life,” You snicker, giving him a once over, making him feel small under your stare. “Then again, I don’t expect anything different from someone who’ll fuck anything that moves.”

You hoped that’d shut him up, even for a moment, but without hesitation he cracks back, “Haven’t fucked you yet, so you might be wrong on that one.”

Face heating up, you’re flustered, until you catch one word that exposes him. “‘Yet’? You bankin’ on a wet dream about me? That’s cute. Dreamin’ big, huh?”

Steve’s running out of ammo to hit back with, faltering in his response, “Y- you wish.”

“What’s there to wish for, Steve? You, talking a big game, only to finish for yourself, while whatever girl’s in your bed is left frustrated and faking it for the sake of your fragile ego?” The laugh that leaves your lips, your pretty, pouty lips, the ones he’s always curious to feel around his dick, hits him hard. His face falls, too stunned to come back with a damaging response. “Yeah, I’m good.”

You replace the last tape in your hands, heading for the door. Steve, though, isn’t finished with this mess he started.

“What did you just say?” He catches your arm in his hand, yanking you towards him. You’re caught off guard, eyes wide as you look up at him.

Shaking off the surprise with a smirk, you taunt him, mirroring an earlier response he gave you, “You heard me.”

Steve pulls the lollipop from your mouth, earning a gasp while he places it in his mouth; he’s backing you up against the wall, arms on either side of you caging you in. “You need something bigger to keep that bratty mouth quiet, huh?”

He kicks at your feet, and you take the hint to spread your legs; his leg pushes between yours, but not close enough to give the pressure or friction you need for some relief.

“Knew you’d be fuckin’ easy,” The way his voice drops low, face close to yours while his eyes are blown out with lust, dark and full of trouble, it hitches your breath, causing you to clench around nothing with a whine. It’s soft, airy, but loud enough for him to catch it. “Y’let all these guys touch you… fuck you… bet none of ‘em ever tamed you, though.”

You huff and look away, but Steve grabs your face roughly, pulling your stare back to him.

“Answer me.” He throws the lollipop to the floor, needy for something more between his own lips.

You hate this. All of this. You hate how easy it is for him to shape you from a hardened brat to a submissive mess. Worst of all, you hate how much you love this entire scenario.

Steve’s giving you what other guys never give— a chance to brat out, to fight back, earn a struggle that builds pleasure like no other, running straight to your core.

“Get fucked, Stev—“ He shoves three fingers into your mouth, silencing you quickly. You’re going to give in quickly, he can tell by the way you don’t hesitate to swirl and roll your tongue around him. He groans, pushing his thigh against your core; your gasp is muffled, mouth still occupied.

It only takes seconds for Steve to feel it, “Christ, you’re fucking wet… knew it.”

You pull the fingers from your mouth, brows pinching together, annoyed. “How the hell would you know— oh—“ He grabs your hips, rolling you onto his leg slowly, back and forth, enjoying the way your jaw drops just from this alone.

Steve chuckles, hands leaving you as you continue grinding against him; he grabs your hands to pin them above your head, leaning in dangerously close to you. “Could smell how sweet ya’ are all night.”

Embarrassment flows through you, making you feel hot and lightheaded. “I- I haven’t been— that’s— you’re lying!”

“You know how hard it’s been not to bend you over the counter and make you take me right there?” His lips ghost over your trembling ones. “Show you what brats get when they’re outta line? Fuck, every time y’bent over, I’d get hard thinking ‘bout just spanking you, making you take every hit ‘til you cry.”

“Then do it already, quit being all talk and no—“ Steve pushes off the wall, leaving space between the two of you. You’re panting and aching and pissed off. Angry that he’s toying with you like this, how he’s doing everything right, the way you’ve always fantasized, like he’s inside your thoughts.

You’re so angry, the emotion lines your eyes with tears, threatening to spill over. Your bottom lip wobbles into the most pathetic, shameful pout that’s ever appeared on your face. Steve, on the other hand, is pleased as he witnesses you unravel from just being teased and humiliated alone.

You’re about to break; you can’t take this anymore. You need him on you, in you, or whatever he’ll offer at this point.

“Steve… please?” You hate hearing the words fall out of your own mouth. You sound so desperate, look desperate too as a tear finally slips down your face.

Taking pity on you, he strides back your way, flipping you to face the wall as he pulls your backside out towards him. Your legs spread automatically, wishing he’d touch you sooner if you’re compliant. His hands slide up and under your skirt before tugging your panties down, stealing them once you step out. He backs away for a moment before quickly spanking your cunt, causing you to jolt forward with a yelp.

Steve leans closer to your face, pressed against the wall; one hand holds you in place, while the other shoves the soaked fabric into your mouth, crudely gagging you. His hand winds through your hair, tugging roughly as he speaks to you.

“Here’s the deal, I’m gonna make you cum, as many times as it takes, ‘til you’re really crying for me. Got it?”

You nod feverishly, trying to speak around the fabric. Steve pulls it out.

“One condition.”

His brows knit together, “What’s that?”

“Toss out all those numbers you got today.”

Steve will. He already planned on it before any of this went down, but he refuses to hand over any satisfaction to you just yet.

As he shoves the fabric back between your lips, he mutters coldly, “I’ll think about it.”

#prompts #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut

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cryptocism · 2 months

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Since I think about clones like I’m getting paid for it, I've been rotating those alternate universe "what if Bart and Thad were actually raised together" scenarios in my brain, with Thad either post-redemption-arc or pre-villainy. Because adjusting Thad's character to fit an ally role while still keeping true to his core motives and personality is so so fascinating to me.

Like I think there's an immediate first instinct to slot Thad into a "bad" twin category: ie rebellious and prickly, doesn't get along with people, mean lil shit. And obviously it's not wrong bc we're outside the realm of canon, but the reading still feels a little left of center.

Because Thad is mean and prickly in canon. In the Impulse comics he belittles Bart and Bart’s friends/family constantly in his appearances. He loves to goad, and monologue about his own superiority and intelligence. He’s very Not Nice, and he causes many problems, and he even does it on purpose.

But, I think it’s important to consider the context. From the jump Thad knows very little about anything except which team he’s on and who he’s playing for. He gets his orders from an unseen authority and he carries out his tasks because success means his team wins.

For all his self-aggrandizing talk, everything he does is in service of an end goal that doesn't actually center him. He's trying to get revenge for grievances he's never personally suffered, retribution for actions never committed against him. Everything he does is on someone else's behalf.

Thad sees in black and white, us or them. Up until the final few issues of Mercury Falling, Bart and co. are Thad's enemies, of course he's not going to be nice.

So Thad's motivation seems pretty simple: Thawne Supremacy™.

But it’s in Mercury Falling where this starts to fall apart, and the real core of his motivation gets revealed. Thad pretends to be Bart and suddenly Helen is nice to him. Bart’s friends think he’s funny. Bart’s teachers are impressed with his grades. Max ruffles his hair and gives him hugs and tells him he’s done a good job.

If he was actually an inherently mean and standoffish character, if Thad actually had significant personal stake in the Thawne VS Allen conflict, the weight of such tiny acts of kindness wouldn’t completely break him the way that it does in canon.

Thad thinks his goal is superiority and revenge and Thawne Supremacy™, but he's chasing validation. Thad doesn’t have a personal stake in the Thawne VS Allen conflict. He wouldn't get much satisfaction if he actually destroyed Bart and his family. Thad's personal victory would be the recognition after the fact: the praise and attention from the other Thawnes (a group of people he has literally never met) for his success.

He wants validation. That's basically it. And the fact that he gets it so easily from Bart's family and friends doesn't align with how he's told himself things are supposed to work.

Actually tangentially, Bart and Thad’s respective relationships to authority is so diametrically opposed and tbh kind of subversive in a superhero narrative. Where the hero is the one carving his own path without regard to social or societal rules, no fucks to give what anybody thinks of it. And the villain is a chronic people-pleaser.

Just based on Thad’s reaction to simple praise and affection from Max I really think Thad’s motivation has more to do with the response he gets than whatever the details are of any given task. He has no actual personal convictions beyond getting positive attention, and whatever he did have crumbled as soon as Bart’s friends laughed at his joke one time. Which of course leads into the core of his whole conflict at the end of Mercury Falling. He cares too much about Bart’s friends and family now, he doesn’t want to kill them, but worse than that, he’s faced with the sudden realization that he’s on the wrong side.

The Allens gave Thad everything he actually wanted and needed, but his conception of himself is inexorably tied to the Thawnes: who gave him jack shit. These two facts are in opposition to each other, and he can’t reconcile the reality of it.

Anyway all this to say, in an AU where Bart and Thad are raised together or Thad gets an actual redemption arc etc etc, I think my personal take on Thad’s personality whether it be pre-or-post-villainy would be one that is extremely socially conscious. He is much more of a people-person than Bart. Whether he's actually accurate in assessing people's feelings and how to respond to them can be hit or miss, but he wants to behave in a way that gets people to like him.

Pretending to be Bart isn’t remarked upon as, like, a difficult task for Thad. In his internal monologue he’s literally bragging to himself about how easy it is. But what’s especially notable to me is where his act differs from Bart's typical MO. Everyone notices, and lots of people comment, and presumably if Thad didn’t have the excuse of Max’s illness to “motivate” Bart to do better he would’ve been found out immediately. And those things are, specifically: paying attention in class, doing his chores, staying on task, and being helpful around the house. The one thing about Bart he chooses not to emulate is Bart’s rebelliousness.

Thad wants to prove himself, constantly, to whatever authority he respects (probably Max in this scenario) and will do whatever it takes to make that happen. In contrast to Bart, who only listens to authority when the shit they're saying actually makes sense to him. It’s excessively difficult to convince him to go against his own interests. (And I think a key part of that is Bart’s security in knowing that no matter how much he fucks up or doesn’t listen, the people he loves will always love him back.)

Thad’s got the people-pleaser in him that has to deserve whatever he’s given. It’s why he’s happiest when he’s given a clear goal or objective to complete, because it gives him an opening to prove himself.

All this to say that if we are quantifying Bart and Thad as a "good" or "bad" twin, in the eyes of every authority: Bart is the bad twin. Bart is the bad twin, Bart is the bad twin. Bart is the one who doesn’t care about school and whose grades vary wildly depending on his personal interest. He’s the one who goes off to do dangerous shit for fun and gets in trouble constantly and doesn’t do his chores and is thoroughly unconvinced by any authority figure trying to sell him bullshit.

Thad is the one who needs to know all the rules just so he can experience the joy of following them. Relentlessly obedient. He'll put all his effort into doing all the right things that’ll endear him to whoever he wants to impress - meaning he’s the asshole who reminds the teacher about the assigned homework. Bart might be the most popular boy in school, but Thad is a pleasure to have in class.

Like Thad can (and should) still be high-strung and short-tempered and sarcastic and edgy and mean, because he is. But he can’t be doing all that without rhyme or reason. Colouring every interaction has to be that one-zero binary of ally or enemy. He needs to have somebody he’s proving himself to: a team he’s on and a team he’s against. He’s not an inherently rebellious character. He can go up against The Enemy, whoever he deems as such, but it has to be in service of a hypothetical future in which somebody eventually tells him he did a great job.

And in the interest of continuing to beat a dead horse, it connects to their respective upbringings. Thad and Bart were both raised in VR, but Bart’s experience had the side effect of basically hard-wiring him against insecurity. His world was a playground tailor-made for him, and he was never made to feel bad or insufficient about any aspect of himself. His first interaction with a real human person was Iris moving heaven and earth to save him, without him knowing her, without her knowing him, with no reasoning for the act needed beyond Being Her Grandson. Which is probably a significant factor in why Bart moves through the world with frankly atomic levels of autistic swag.

Thad’s VR upbringing installed self-consciousness in his psyche before any other personality trait. As in: he is immediately made conscious of himself and his relationship with everyone he will ever encounter. He’s told two things: he’s a clone of someone else (inherently derivative, lesser) and that he was made to be superior (a status to achieve). Which is such an instant clarifier for Thad’s everything. Where superiority is a condition that everyone either has, or does not. It’s the one-zero binary again: are they better than me or am I better than them. Being above others is mandatory, and if his superiority is ever challenged by hard evidence or god forbid nuance Thad’s brain physically cannot take it. He needs to be better, to be worse is unthinkable, and there is no other way to be.

And this status of better or worse is, crucially, not up to Thad to decide. He needs The Authority to validate him. Bart never tries to prove himself because he has nothing to prove. Thad’s entire identity hinges on the self-worth he gets from doing a Good Job.

It is such an inherent part of his motives in the Impulse comics canon, which is why it always feels a little off when he’s interpreted as a jackass indiscriminately.

Like I don't think he needs everyone to like him. But I do think he has either one person or a set of very particular people that he needs to like him. Everyone else is either in that circle or outside of it.

(Which is why Bart is such a great foil for Thad tbh. There is no set of words or behaviors that’ll change Bart’s opinion of Thad, because Bart is unaffected by obedience or charm. So ironically Bart is probably one of few people that Thad doesn’t bother to put on even a little bit of an act for.)

While Bart goes with his instincts, his personal beliefs and convictions at all times, Thad is hyper-conscious of big-picture goals. They balance each other out that way. Thad's keeping track of whatever expectations he has placed on him, and how his actions reflect on him and the team beyond short-sighted solutions. He's a team player. AND he's an asshole.

#soapbox #dc #thad thawne #thaddeus thawne #inertia #bart allen #impulse #like he cannot be mean indiscriminately... u must interrogate WHY hes mean and to whom #if hes being raised with Max and Helen he would not intentionally do anything to make their lives more difficult #if hes being raised by Meloni same situation #he needs to be trying to get validation from SOMEWHERE u know #and of course he'll mess up and hurt the people he loves or wants to impress he is a human being #but while that can sometimes be the result #that is never the Goal u kno #not his Core Motivation #i feel like the more i talk about this the less sense im making

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gleafer · 3 months

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Hello gleafer, I greatly admire your style of art and your expressions in your drawings! I hope you don't mind me asking, as a full time illustrator, what does your work entail? Do you work for a company or freelance, or is your income through patreon? Is there any advice you can offer for someone looking to become an illustrator?

I am in my 3rd year of Diploma of Fine Arts, working to become a highschool art teacher, but I also love to make illustrative work and would like to pursue that as a side job.

Thank you for any advice you can dish out! Keep up the amazing work 💞

I don’t mind at all!

I’m a freelance commercial storyboard artist. Went to college with the idea of illustrating comics and had a fabulous teacher direct me into the commercial industry because the money was great and I had a knack for it.

I’ve been doing that for 25 years and so far, still going strong!

I just jumped on Patreon a couple months ago and I’m very grateful for how well it’s been doing and how much joy it’s been bringing to me and my pigeons (patrons)!

There’s only so much joy one can get slinging commercial frames and I felt very much that my art was single serve and disposable for no one to enjoy but the clients in last minute meetings. Now, with the GO fandom being wonderful and creative, I’m really enjoying illustrating again!

My advice is find a nice stable niche where you can get a steady income and satisfaction while simultaneously trying your hand at different freelance opportunities to see what brings you joy be it for extra income or purely for fun!

I’ve done caricatures at Great America, freelanced with D&D illustrating characters for their rpg books,taught some classes and have a few children’s books under my belt.

Try it all! As my art teacher used to say Variety is the spice of life and the love of an artist!

Is that corny? I’m a little corny.

#art advice #life advice #yolo beeotches #cookies for your artist

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morskisir · 5 months

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Answer to this ask I had to post seperately because I reached the character limit or something.

OHHHH Anon you are not ready. I think about this bastard so much and too deeply.

Before I get into it:

I love how you worded this question- gives a nice atmosphere.

Just to be clear this is all about RED Sniper. I apologise to any BLU Sniper enjoyers for I don't have thoughts about that guy.

I'm not the biggest fan of the comics for many reasons so don't mind me retconning a lot of that.

In the end these are all MY opinions and views of him- if you don't like them that's no problem. It's free real estate.

And FINALLY; my thoughts, under read more:

OKAY, let's start with what even got me to interpret him the way that I do; hell yeah baby, it's Meet the Sniper time.

I've seen MANY people often assume that Sniper is one of the most normal/chill people of the 2fort nine- but the impression I got is that he wants you to think he's normal so desperately despite everything else pointing to how fucking weird he actually is. Simply noticing the stuff he's saying makes it a lot more clear. The very beginning where he goes "Boom, headshot," making light of taking another person's life so swiftly. "Cause at the end of the day; as long as there's two people left on the planet- someone is gonna want someone dead," really positive light you see the world in, Sniper.

Of course you can take this as him being "realistic", and I do agree he's more of a realist than a pessimist or optimist, but "...have a plan to kill everyone you meet," is SO fucked up. Why is his first thought when meeting someone to know how to kill them? This to me is him not being able to properly connect to other people/understand them or actually SEE them as people. Not to mention his smile after delivering that shot in the timelapse of him sniping (AND after stabbing Spy). This cunt enjoys killing. He's not the type to slowly kill someone or torture them- but he is the type to feel satisfaction after planting a bullet in someone; give himself a pat on the back for it- or perhaps find humour in the kill.

The conclusion this brought me to is that he is an unreliable narrator in "Meet the Sniper". (Also the "..be polite," line. Yeah, sure, dude. Your voice lines are very polite.)

CAN WE TALK ABOUT HIS FUCKING TEETH? The way his teeth look and how much they're shown to the viewer by exaggerating his mouth movements feels like a "this guy is NOT normal" sign. No one in the game has teeth similar to him and his canines are HUGE. Like holy shit, he's an apex predator.

A comment @cheebuss (I know you wanna get tagged) saw once has been a running joke between us- it was basically "He indicates so he's normal," which is fucking hilarious, but I can genuinely refute that point. First of all we see him fucking speeding in the beginning of the video- to be fair we don't know what the speed limit on this road is, BUT:

Cunt drives around with a broken side mirror. That's really unsafe, obviously. A good chunk of that mirror has gone to shit and he does not care to replace it (which feeds into my headcanon of him being stingy/not wanting to spend money because he lived on a farm and they did everything themselves). Speaking of his van; it gave me the impression he likes having everything he needs near him- he doesn't need a grand, expensive space to feel comfortable. (I headcanon that he's actually scared/unnerved by vast, empty spaces/buildings) ALSO I think he's messy and prefers the claustrophobia of his van. I like to believe his childhood room was much the same (to the detriment of his mother)- that's his safe space damn it!!!

And here I can transition into talking about his parents!!! : D Of course, not much was shown to us of Mr. & Mrs. Mundy, but we can still glean some stuff from the video- and partially- the comics.

His father very obviously disapproves of his job, calling him "a crazed gunman", and showing his morals do not align with Sniper's. Sniper calls for his mum during the phone call shown at the very end of the video- looking annoyed and somewhat distressed. It's clear to me that they've had this argument many times and Mrs. Mundy is the mediator in them. I think she disapproves of the job as much as her husband does, but is sick of hearing them argue to that extent. Regardless of this conflict, Sniper loves and cares for his parents- they are his world. He doesn't care for anyone else, most of the shit he does is for their sake and continuing to provide support so they can live a stable life at their farm as they get older. It's one of the nicest things about Sniper.

Although, I do think he struggled to get them to understand him properly. He is a quiet man who doesn't express a lot of his emotions. That will complicate things, especially if he doesn't talk about it- and he doesn't!!! : D

Despite this, I think they were the people he was closest to. Sniper, to me, is a guy who's never had friends and has been lonely as well as isolated his entire life. "Too weird to live, much too rare to die." And this is a VERY long time we're talking about; DECADES. Decades of minimum to no human connection. (Just to note; he is almost 50 to me. The comic writers fucked the timeline up and made him a 20 something year old. The Sin. Do not speak of it to me. It makes him less interesting/compelling I'm not kidding.) He is anxious in social settings, barely speaks up, and prefers to simply back away when he doesn't know how to deal with something. (SUPER DUPER AUTISM + SOCIAL ANXIETY!!!) Does he try to interact with his co-workers? Veeeeery little. He yearns for connection he convinces himself he doesn't need. He trusts no one. He's a mystery to them.

But hey!!! Less distractions from his job!!! (Bad transition) This man is genuinely incredible at what he does- I keep replaying the part where he reloads his rifle. He was not kidding about being efficient (he also kills the entire BLU team in that video??). The lad's got incredible patience, aim, control, and overall understanding of what he's doing. There's something fucked up about him observing the people he's targetting like prey, but let's leave that for when I mention his previous job as a tracker (if I do). I imagine the only thing he excelled at in school (he did go there!! He can write!!!) is maths, as that is very much needed when you're a sniper.

BTW I think he barely passed school; he hated being there, had no interest in school work and his teachers kept pestering him about his social life. Leave him alone, he doesn't need that (he does).

Most of his focus went to his parents' farm where I think he mostly took care of the animals....or went out to hunt them; which is how he learned to shoot out of a rifle in the first place. (His dad taught him.) He's not exactly an animal guy but he's also not not an animal guy.

It's complicated.

ANYWAYS, I've talked enough about one single video. Let's mention his in game voice lines a bit!

There's a LOT of material there but here's the stuff I want to mention:

He talks to himself a lot. He isn't out there with the others- his job is to be perched up somewhere high and shoot from a distance so he doesn't get spotted. He makes so many jokes that only HE's going to find funny, except "You've got a forehead on ya like a coffee table," which is genuinely the funniest thing he's ever said. Boy voices his thoughts and tries to entertain himself when he's alone- I don't judge him for that. He has to sit there for hours in complete focus (he helps himself via a lot of coffee). I DO judge the things he says, however.

He's violent. (WHAT!?) There's plenty of examples but I would like to mention one adressed to his teammates. One of the "Jeers" commands is "Should've saved a bullet for some of you blokes!" which, hey, what the fuck? That's scary. He got so frustrated he threatened his own team with murder. (It's kinda funny) To me this shows he's bad at controlling his outbursts or that he never learned how to deal with them. (Autism moment!!!)

He literally growls.

There's this line addressed to Spy: "What goes around comes around, you snotty little nance." If you're not aware- "nance" is derogatory Australian slang for a prissy, effeminate gay man. I headcanon Sniper as a homosexual man so it tickles me that he's so insecure about this fact. It's sad, absolutely, but I find humour in this horrible man being a homophobic homosexual. Project your insecurities onto a guy who can read people extremely well, why don't you. He won't do anything about it, I promise :) (Lie)

I was doing my best to not mention SniperSpy but CAN WE TALK ABOUT HIS LINES AIMED AT SPY AND HOW THEY'RE DIRECT RESPONSES TO THINGS SPY SAYS? (plus the highest number of revenge lines he has directed at someone is Spy)

-> = response to:

"Aww, did I get blood on your suit!?" -> "You got blood on my suit."

"I was never on your side either! Wanker!" -> "I never really was on your side."

"Ah, my God, you've been shot. Did you get a look at the handsome rogue who did it?" -> "I'll see you in hell, you handsome rogue."

BY THE WAY, THAT LAST LINE? SPY ONLY SAYS THAT TO HIS COUNTERPART. WHAT, WERE YOU LOOKING AT HIM? WERE YOU WATCHING HIM ALL DAY? WHY DO YOU REMEMBER SO MANY THINGS HE'S SAID? WHY ARE YOU SO FOCUSED ON HIM? ARE YOU OBSESSED WITH HIM? ARE YOU OBSESSED? WHY ARE YOU OBSESSED WITH A LITTLE NANCY BOY? HM?

There is so much more I could mention. I think whatever thing he has going on with Spy is super important to him, but I will hold back for your sake as I can talk about this for hours. You have no clue how many parallels there are, etc.

Anyways, he's in Expiration Date! A little bit! He doesn't say anything. <3 I'm proud of him!!! <3

He literally just stands around ominously in the shadows (and finds RED Spy being made fun of very amusing).

"Hehe."

(I just noticed he took his watch off and put it on his vest. This is an autism moment because I, too, hate having something on me that I don't usually have so I need to balance it out by removing something else; if I have it on me. Either way it's sensory suffering.) (Him being super attached to his hat and glasses is also an autism moment. He is no one without them.)

And then he has that one part in The Bread Fight(tm) where he gets confused by Pauling and Scout pushing the bomb.

"Tails gets trolled" looking ass.

I like watching him fall over.

After he falls here, he takes his kukri out which was... attached? situated? It was behind the strap of his arrow carrier. I think that's cool. I also think he wouldn't be doing that during matches because Spy is very much capable of stealing it/putting it away without Sniper noticing, even if it was literally on his back.

Also, I am a firm believer in "Sniper can only do one thing extremely well and has little to no interest in creative stuff," so I disagree with the idea of him being able to play a saxophone. You could say he was made to do that in school, but this guy is a smoker. I do not believe he can do that. You cannot convince me.

I think that's enough! This doesn't even go past the hypothetical tip of the iceberg, but it's a lot of words. This is the very basic stuff you have to know about how I see this cunt.

Thank you for letting me share some of my insanity.

#ask #morskiwords #tf2 #sniper #sniperspy mention i gues #thank you so much for this ask i love talking about this fucked up thing i care about too much #i wanted to include the 'feelings?' line but id have to tackle too many things i hadnt even mentioned here #overall im really surprised at how little of my thoughts are in here. i guess you dont realise the extent you think about a character until #-you write it down #uh. yeah. im normal

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naveries · 3 months

Text

call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to

Pairing: non-idol!beomgyu × f!reader

Synopsis: Within the walls of your academy, you unfortunately find yourself targeted by jealous peers due to your relationship with the campus' sweetheart, Choi Beomgyu. Enduring the harassment, you begin to struggle to shield yourself from the malicious rumours, harsh judgement and pranks being pulled by his fangirls. And worst of all, you couldn't even bring yourself Beomgyu about it either.

Word Count: 7,801

Warnings! petnames (baby, beomie bear, my love, sweet girl), mentions of relationships reader and Beomgyu are already in an established relationship, mentions of heavy bullying, mentions of violence, mentions of harassment, mentions of school (y/n is quite smart), mentions of hugging and a lot of physical affection, mentions of school, reader can be really sad, mentions of panic attacks, mentions of sensuality, mentions of kissing, actual kissing, beomgyu gets upset, a lot of hugging, crying, pretend that Beomgyu and Taehyun are the same age!

[Friday, 7:32PM]

@ my beomie bear🧸: heyy you 👀 you called? @ my beomie bear🧸: sorry baby, i was at soccer practice.

@ my love 💘: it’s okay, don’t worry about it. but can u come over?

@ my beomie bear 🧸: like... right now? 🤨

@ my love 💘: yes now. it's IMPORTANT!!! @ my love 💘: this isn’t a want it’s a NEED 🤧 @ my love 💘: …unless you’re busy which is FINE. just FINE.

@ my beomie bear 🧸: you're cute hehe. im there soon, count on it ❤️ @ my beomie bear 🧸: [Attachment: 1 image]

(photo of him outside and his hand is holding on the handle of his bike about to leave)

For the past few weeks or so, you had been the target of multiple petty, jealous girls’s humiliating pranks because of the mere fact you were dating the campus sweetheart.

And that left you in a constant state of stress and anticipation, feeling as if everyone is staring at you, judging you, comparing your flaws that even you can’t seem to grace yourself for having them.

You were always greeted with either the cold glare from girls in your class or hallways, trying to figure why the hell Choi Beomgyu had chosen you over them.

Or maybe that he had no idea of who you actually were before you had been pulled into a secluded corner of the school being told that his heart found solace with you by the latter himself.

But people thought otherwise of you. This self entitled bland bitch. Someone who had no right holding his heart.

And while you were doing a good job at concealing your reaction, feelings from everyone else who would find satisfaction in your crumbling, today you just felt fed up.

You shouldn’t keep this from him, especially with how these girls claim to not stop until you stop seeing him all together.

And you didn't want that, not over any kind of pride you stood on.

Yet these girls were relentless, and took whatever chance to harass you and make you feel miserable as hell whenever they could. Despite the attempts you made to confront them and getting them to stop, it was almost comical how they acted as if you were the crazy one for asking such a thing as apparently, it’s entitled of you do so when you already have Beomgyu.

The shoving and tripping in the hallways, the nasty rumours about how Beomgyu is dating you on a bet or how he doesn’t even like you that much anyway. You knew that they weren’t true but it was still hard to walk around school for the past few weeks. Uncomfortable to around halls, classrooms, filled with these people who assumed the worst of the worst of you and your relationship with Beomgyu.

You were once so cheery, greeting friends with Hello’s and curious How are you doing today?’s, you found yourself now held down by the hate being expressed towards you daily.

You were torn, you imagined the moments you began noticing you had begun developing feelings for Beomgyu, and then the time Beomgyu had taken you to the music room to confess to you through a song he had been working on, and then the flashes of those girls holding you down against the sink as they laughed at your distress.

"Ha... you're really low. Can't even get me without cornering me. What? Safety in numbers?" You spat, trying to wringle your arms free but there was no use.

"Shut up" a girl from behind came in front of you and slapped you. Your cheek searing with pain from the slap, your expression was unrelenting to give in. But they laughed anyway "says the girl tied down to the sink."

You were unable to move anything as they pulled at your hair and mocked you for looking so helpless, not being able to defend yourself despite them holding you against your will. The words felt more like physical torture as they continued on. deserves better You couldn’t help but feel so disgusted in yourself as this whole thing dragged on for what felt like hours.

“Beomgyu deserves someone, anyone better than you.” The girl holding you down against the sink chuckles, you tried to say more but they held your face under the running cold water. “Look at you, you can’t even defend yourself, let alone him.”

And you believed them.

It was as soon as a Teacher walked in from all the noise inside the bathroom and caught the girls, you dashed out of there so fast and went straight home. Not caring about your bag you left behind, Taehyun who would probably wonder where you were or the fact that you were gonna be marked absent for your next class. You couldn’t take it anymore, it was as if your insides were being crushed and tormented and you can’t do anything about it even if you pleaded for things it to stop.

Your Mom saw the distress twisted into your usual smile and decided to not question why you were home until you’ve processed things for yourself.

You locked yourself in your room for about an hour or three, unable to move from your bed. It was only until your Mom carefully knocked on your door, asking you if you wanted to speak to Taehyun who had stopped by with your jacket and things.

You decided that getting up and saying a simple Thank you wouldn’t hurt, you didn’t want him to worry either. You’ve enough distress anyway. You just needed something different right now.

But what surprised you the most wasn’t that he was still here sitting on your couch waiting for you or that his expression changed as soon as he laid his eyes on your distraught eyes, but what he says next, “What did those girls do to you?”

You stood there facing him frozen and your eyes wide, “But… how did you know?” you asked, unable to process the shock that he knows.

Looking at you, he could tell that this had been weighing down on you for so long and that you had no idea what to do about things up until now. And so without a second thought, you watched Taehyun as he stood up and carefully walked over to your shaken figure. And without even hesitating he pulls you into an embrace.

You were expecting a lecture that would claw at your insides further on how you had dealt with everything so wrong and that the people around you deserved better than what you were making of the situation. You were mentally preparing yourself up until now. And right now, you felt as if you had been acknowledged for what you were feeling and who you are in this whole situation.

And instead of you trying to hold it together up until now, you finally let yourself break from everything you had withheld, tear after tear until they wouldn’t stop flowing and you let out a choked out sob. Taehyun’s arms held you tighter at the sound of that. “You’re pretty incredible for holding out this long you know,” he said as he patted your back. Still hugging you in the middle of your living room. “but I promise were not the type of people to not take in your feelings over other people’s opinions on our lives. Especially when they choose to take it out on someone else involved with us, especially you Y/N”, letting all the l guilt and shame that you had been drowning yourself in.

“Beomgyu would want to know.” he says his voice calm, you can hear the sense of urgency through his voice.

“I didn’t wanna bother him. This whole thing is—”

“This isn’t your fault Y/N.” he interrupts you, knowing you were about to blame yourself.

“I’m his girlfriend! I should’ve done something more than… this” you stress, struggling to get the words out but somehow he understands you. “I hate that I feel so useless throughout this whole thing.”

Taehyun isn’t as good with feelings in comparison to Beomgyu so it takes him a minute to catch up. But as he takes a moment to piece everything you’ve expressed to him from his perspective, he tries again.

“Our academy is highly populated, even 2000 students alone in out grade and only the best of the best can survive.” he says, you not knoeing where he’s taking this but you patiently wait for him to continue.

“Beomgyu is pretty well known to almost each and every student in the building. And from what I’m aware as well, you’ve also been part of the top highest grading students in our year since we started at the academy.” Still lost in what he’s trying to get at.

“So with a competition of a thousand girls, possibly even boys, he chose you from the many. And with good reason Ms. Top Student.” he teases you but from his confident, well thought out delivery, it makes your heartache from how he took the time to find the right words.

You stood silent for a second letting his words digest into your system and you exhale.

“It’s still not top in the whole school.” you’re perfectionist self reasoned before sniffling again. Taehyun in response, was that he dropped his forehead dramatically on your shoulder with an exaggerated sigh in exhaustion and you giggle.

“Thanks Tyunie.” you say with a light hearted tone, your mood better than what it had been before. You pat the top of his head and he lifts his head to face you. You can never tell why someone like him would be mistaken for someone cold and unapproachable when really, Kang Taehyun was just quiet.

But that didn’t mean he was cold-hearted, because once you got to know him, the way he displayed his affection towards you and his friends, through physical actions rather than words, was so raw and genuine that it never left you to doubt him for a second.

Even as someone who found it hard to break your shell around even your closest of friends.

“You should really tell him though, he deserves to know and I really think that this would help not just you but this whole thing as well.” Taehyun says and you’re able to match the seriousness he put the atmosphere comfortably, rather than if this was happening a few minutes before.

“But what if—”

“And no more ‘but what ifs’, you have to talk to him first.”

He’s looking at you with a look that says you know I’m right and not knowing what else to counteract with, you just sigh in admission.

“Alright.”

A few minutes after your talk with Taehyun, your Mom finally came back out from the other room and into the kitchen where you had begun brewing tea for Taehyun and possibly some hot chocolate for him to bring on his way home.

Your Mom adored Taehyun and was happy to engage in some small talk with him about how his school had been and how he has been as well. Taehyun on the other hand really didn’t have much issues talking with your Mom either because just like you, and also from what your other friends have claimed in the past as well, your warmth and welcoming personality was definitely a trait you got from your Mom.

And soon enough, you bid Taehyun another Thank you to which he responded that he was happy to help you anytime.

[Friday, 08:00 PM]

And so here you were, after mulling over your talk with Taehyun and what had you been doing the past week, the inability to complete any task because of the plague that had been burdening your peace of mind, and several panic attacks throughout the day.

You decided that over anything else, you wanted— no, needed to see Beomgyu. You needed to tell him everything.

And after a few miss calls on his end, you wait for what felt like forever (in reality was actually just 3 minutes), he sends you a message saying that he was in soccer practice, but was able to make it to you.

And with little to no patience today you couldn’t fight the urge to just sit there and wait until he got to you. So you went ahead to put on any kind of thick sweater and socks to keep you warm from the cold air and went outside to sit down and wait til Beomgyu got there. You watched as cars and people pass by until maybe the next would be him. You felt a bit silly making eye contact with unsuspecting strangers, but you couldn’t help the anticipation that was eating your heart away.

And in a grey hoodie you knew all too well, relief that took over your mind overwhelmingly, butterflies that came swarming around at the bottom of your stomach at the sight of the stature pedalling on his bike up to you.

You couldn’t see his entire reaction to you sitting there waiting for him, one reason because of the mask and the other being because your eye sight is shit from all those all-nighters you’ve pulled, to your mother’s dismay, watching those rom-com movies all night until the sun came up.

But that changed until after he parked his bike at the bike rack, and pulled his mask off to find your favourite sight in the world, Choi Beomgyu.

"Y/N." Beomgyu called out to you in a shaky breath, probably from biking from school all the way to your home, no doubt in a rush looking at his slightly disheveled sweater and uneven breaths. His tone was much different to his usual energetic personality, you can see the comfort that overtook his eyes seeing you there already waiting for him. Jogging up to you as he engulfed you in a tight hug, spinning you around. Both sighs of relief and laughter were what was exchanged between you two. Your hoodie falling off of your head from being spun by him and it took you a quick minute to go against the quick wind and wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face onto the crook of it and the sweet scent of his shampoo.

His spin slows and your words are muffled by his grey sweater. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

Putting you down, you pulled away thinking that he would just follow you back to the bench or inside where a heater is, but he immediately engulfs you in an unexpected hug.

You're standing on the tips of your shoes with your arms still hooked under his shoulders. If he were to let go right now then you would probably topple over on your bottom. But his arms are wrapped so tightly around you, your body is flush against his chest.

"Y/N… Taehyun mentioned that you went home early, Is something wrong?" he asks his voice is soft and quiet. You can hear both the curiosity and concern laced in his voice and your whole mood flips back into anxiousness.

With one arm still holding you, his hand goes up to the back of your head and threads through each strand of your hair. "There's been something bothering you all week and I didn’t wanna pry but-" Your muscles tense up and your body freezes, and that confirms his worry as he can feel you tensing up against him.

You slowly push yourself from his embrace and he helps steady you on your heels again. Your head is hanging low, unable to move yourself as you can't bring yourself to look him in the eye yet when tears are threatening to spill out from your eyes. Beomgyu frowns as he watches you shy away from him. He's holding onto you by your elbows and you're holding onto him for your body's support.

"I know we haven’t been dating for long," He speaks up, his low voice so calm but still enough that you could hear the seriousness in his tone. "but I can still tell the difference in how you’re feeling Y/N."

Beomgyu had figured out that you had been hiding something from him, before you can tell him. What was he gonna think now? That this won’t work between you two because you didn’t tell him?

Beomgyu picks up on the fact that you don’t know what else to do in this moment and gently places a finger beneath your chin, raising it up so that you could finally meet his eyes again. You expected him to be upset, a frown that didn’t belong on his lip. But instead you’re met with his endeared expression, an assuring smile that calms the turmoil inside of you. The worry dissipating from your features was all he needed to see before this look in his eyes, that you cant seem to read, watches as his hand cups your face and his thumb moves from beneath your chin to rub over your cheek gently. You flush in response to his sudden change in demeanour.

Still with his thumb gently caressing your flushed cheek, his eyes meets yours again. “I’m your boyfriend for a reason you know.” he says and you’re still frozen in place.

Your gaze subconsciously trickles down to his lips afor a split second and you scold yourself internally for not having any sense of decorum or decency during a time like this. The pink that was already staining your cheeks worsened to a crimson. You drop your forehead to his chest, shying away from the temptation that came along with his annoyingly beautiful features.

"L-let's go inside first…" You mumble, barely loud enough but he hears you anyway.

You rest the side of your head against his sweater where you could feel the beating of his heart, Ba-bump, ba-bump. You wanted to relish in the calm before the distressing, lengthy explanation you owed him came, better to talk about it in the comfort of your room.

He moves his head up, spacing out into the distance and rests his chin on your head. Nerves prickling over his skin by the thought of what it is you want to say to him. Had he done something he didn't realize he was doing? You usually tell him everything, what was so different now?

His hands running up and down over your arms for another moment until a strong wind gust pass the two of you and he feels your figure shiver in response. He gently pulls your bodies apart and takes ahold of your hand. "It's much more warmer inside, let's get my baby inside." Beomgyu says, flashing you a soft smile and you just watch as he turns his head around, your hand in his, leading you inside.

[Friday, 08:13 PM]

Once inside your room, Beomgyu lets go of your hand and went to your dresser and opened the top drawer where he kept his own clothes if ever he stayed over.

You on the other hand quietly tip-toed into the room, cautiously closing the door behind you, a careful click, careful not to wake anyone up.

The last thing you would need was your famiky assuming that you and Beomgyu were up to anything else that could possibly result in the terror that would haunt your Mom and Dad, and quite possibly Beomgyu’s parents as well, to know that Beomgyu was sneaking into your bedroom in the middle of the night, doing something that would require little to no talking. It was hard enough to convince your parents to let him stay over, let alone in your room, in the middle of the night.

You insisted he stayed over quite oftenly to the point it was easier for him to leave clothes at your place instead of bring a bag of his things. He even had his own toothbrush, his own brown slippers with bears on it.

You couldn’t hide the excitement and adrenaline rush that came the first time Beomgyu had been snowed in at your house. After spending the whole day with you, a bad storm came down on your town to the point where the snow had basically covered the entirety of the front door, also the only way for Beomgyu to leave. Both his and your parents agreed that it was fine as long as Beomgyu slept in a different room. Although much to their dismay, they found you dozing away, curled up, tucked in his embrace under the same blanket as him the next morning.

The kind of relief and fulfillment that over took your body when waking up next to him was a joy you never would get tired off. Him enveloped in your arms, or his arms hugging you close from behind every morning and doing mundane things by his side was why, tangled limbs under your silk mattress.

This was never for the sake of sex since you both were still virgins. But that could also change any time soon judging from how quick chaste kisses on your bed turned into you straddling his waist and his hands pulling you flush against him by your waist. Devouring your sweet whines with such fervency. Who was to tell? But that was a story for later.

Right now you needed to focus on calming your nerves before explaining the situation with these girls at school.

Turning around to face Beomgyu but your eyes widen as you stumbled backwards, a thud against your door loud enough to probably wake up everyone in the house. Leaving any attempt at being sneaky and quiet quite literally out the door. The culprit being the sight of Beomgyu’s bare chest as he is seemingly changing into a new shirt.

Beomgyu jumps at the loud thud of you hitting the door. “Holy shit Y/N, are you o—” He tries to make his way to you before you quickly raise your hand in protest.

“Put on your shirt first! Are you crazy? Why are you changing here when usually change in the bathroom?!” you quietly yell at him, loud enough that he can only hear.

“Calm down, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! You were doing your best to be really quiet earlier I didn’t think want to make anymore noise.” You’re astounded by genuinely confused he’s being and the fact that he thought you would have expected him to change here to save the noise. He had a point but still! “At least a warning Choi Beomgyu!”

“Here I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal anyway.” He says unbothered and aggravatingly calm. “You’ve seen me shirtless before haven’t you?”

“When have I seen you shirtless?” You exclaim quietly yet agitatedly. Getting up from the floor, covering your eyes with one hand while the other pushed you up.

He takes a moment putting on his shirt and lets you know that you can look now before he continues. “Those baby pictures you asked for that my Mom sent last week?” he says as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Your eye twitched.

He’s not being serious now… “That’s so different! Baby Beomgyu then not wearing a shirt in contrast to teenager Beomgyu now is so freaking different!” you shrieked quietly, grabbing the sweater hanging by your door and you flail it in his decision. He catches it and chuckles at your fuming fury.

“Okay, okay I get it! My shirt is on now. Now c’mere so I can hug and kiss these silly nerves away.” he said, pulling you into his arms and wrapped one arm around your head and one around your waist. Obviously amused from how flustered you’ve become from simply seeing him shirtless. He hadn’t intended to be so bold with you, but your reaction was so adorable to him he couldn’t resist teasing you.

“You’re amazing.” you roll your eyes, you both know that you didn’t at all mean that in a good way but still he huffs proudly. You don’t see his face, but you can tell by his simple huff and tone that he has the most smug expression on his face. He’s honestly the worst.

You pull apart from Beomgyu as you went outside to wash up and also to give yourself a breather because you’re heart was still racing from the sight of Beomgyu’s bare chest. What the hell was he thinking you didn’t have an answer to them in the moment but he really does like getting you worked up just to get a reaction out of you.

You have to explain to your Mom that Beomgyu was just trying to tease you by scaring the crap out of you. And well, for some reason (your Mom knowing Beomgyu’s personality well enough) that was all she needed to hear and then after excusing herself back into her bedroom to sleep.

You could swear you can hear her holding back laughs from the other side of the door. You sigh and storm back to the bathroom to wash up as you were going to earlier.

You’re now just watching him as he moves around so comfortably in his home clothes, clad in a lazy oversized white shirt and some jogging pants, nothing special but you did love seeing him in white. He just looked so at home whilst manoeuvring around your bed and that made your heart skip a beat at the thought of it.

Patting down and airing out your sheets before flattening it again for you both to lie in.

Because to you, no matter how sad you were, where ever Beomgyu went, as long as he was there you. Your heart felt unbelievably full at the sight of him, the way you would simply just exist and how he would respond to it, it made you feel like you were really living your youth the way it was always suppose to be.

He turns around finished, taking a double take at the bed and plushies before he looks to you across the room. And you’re looking like a deer caught in headlights.

He gives you curious look, “What is it?” he breathes out a laugh. Wondering why you’re staring at him as if he’s still so far away when he’s finally beside you again.

You take a moment to take it in longer before your gaze wanders elsewhere. Your hands coming up to the sides of your arm to hold and ease the nerves.

“I just didn’t want anything else other than being with you right now.” you say, your eyebrows furrowed. You weren’t looking at him but to the left of his general direction.

You could tell that the atmosphere was building up to talk about what had been happening to you this past week and though you were still nervous, you know you needed to talk Beomgyu about this.

“I… didn’t wanna…” Tears already welling up in your eyes as you tried recounting each and every thing you’ve endured the past week. “I've just felt so disgusting this past week” your pride hanging low the moment you’re finally able to say something coherent you cant hold back whatever begins spilling out of your mouth at that moment.

“They were just rumours and a couple of mean girls... So what?! I thought. And here I foolishly thought it wouldn’t become worst from there.” You said, swallowing the lump that had been building up at the back of your throat.

“They cornered me in the bathroom," your vision blurring, you brought your hands to your elbows from how disgusting you felt.

"They pushed my body against the sink the whole time to the point where it was digging into my skin. They just kept pulling on my hair while they were telling me all these… things. I couldn’t… how terrified I felt in that moment and it was entertainment or something for them" your voice trembling, breaking into incoherent parts. Somehow he still understood what you meant, watching you attentively.

"How pathetic I looked in that moment, how someone like me... how we could ever belong together.” A deep breath steadied your composure but you were still dripping with guilt.

You look away blinking back the tears that were threatening to spill out "Fuck, I just feel so disgusting now. I let them get under my skin, and I began thinking that maybe they're right I-"

Your voice breaks in the middle of your sentence as a tear strays from your eyes, your expression searing with anger and frustration.

“Especially with everything being such a catastrophe I- it’s so petty and frustrating I just-” you press, “I really- I just need help.”

If it wasn't for the fucked up things you had just told him about, simply the sound of the word "help" leaving your mouth would have done enough for him to know that this is bad. He feels as if all movement in the world had stopped.

Beomgyu knows better than anyone else how much you hate asking for help. The only time you ever ask for help is when you feel like you can't twist and squeeze anymore energy out of you to cater to your own heart and well being.

But he also wishes to step in when he could, as your boyfriend he wants you to depend on him to pick up the slack not only to have the work out of the way for you but because he loves doing things like this. Especially when it's just for you.

Still looking at you, your eyes trail up his figure, your eyebrows in a knot, your eyes pulling at his strings. And his heart sinks at the thought of you carrying something so painful, so unfairly heavy on your own. Knowing how you never wanna be like other cruel people you've met in your life and blame others, probably blaming yourself for these people being mad at you when it isn't something you can control.

He walks up to your figure, and feverishly gently takes the side of your jaw in his palms and brings your lips to his. Eyebrows furrowed as his lips taste yours, he gently on your bottom so fervently and pull you closer to him. His hands snaking down to your waist as he pulls your body against his, your arms flying to the back his neck serving as your only means of stability.

You’re surprised by his sudden fervency, you kiss him back anyway. Tilt your head to the side, you deepen the kiss and he presses into you a little bit more, his lips move against yours so skillfully it makes your stomach swarm by how good he’s gotten since you stole his first kiss not too long ago.

“Beomgyu-” you say against his lips, trying to catch a breath but his lips chase yours a few more times, leaving you breathless.

You could tell you by whenever his lips attached to yours there was something different he was feeling inside. It wasn’t excitement exactly, it wasn’t lust either, but you could tell that something was stirring inside of that pretty head of his.

He then sudden breaks the kiss, his forehead resting on yours. You see how swollen his lips have gotten from the unusual aggression he put into the kiss, his lips plumped in a deep magenta. And the sight suddenly leaves your head feeling as light as a balloon.

He then rests his chin on your shoulder as he pulls you impossibly closer, your body arching as his hands pulls the small of your back flush against him.

The room is filled with the sound of your air conditioning and the sound of both you trying to catch your breaths again, you can feel how fast he’s breathing against your chest too.

“Y/N” His voice low resonates in your ears and you can hear the urgency tied in with his tone as well as the sounds of yours and his breathing being filling the loud silence in the room. You still feel a bit surprised to his sudden change in tone, first the kiss and now his seriousness.

Beomgyu gently pulls away at the sound of it and he quickly takes your face in his palm and wipes away the tear that escaped, "Don't keep things like this tp yourself," he reassures you.

He stares at eyes full of concern and his brows in knot. You place your hand onto his arm that's cupping your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. "You shouldn’t have to deal them, not anymore, I know and I'm here now." he reassured

Beomgyu's arms wrapped around you more, patting your back, a bitter frown etched on the corner of his lips. If on a normal day, you would've found it to be a bit too tight for your liking, but given that your nerves seemed to have a mind of its own poking at you, his embrace served as an anchor.

But much to your dismay, you watch him as he slowly pulls you away farther. You're about to ask what's wrong, but he hides his expression with his fingers pressed against his temples.

“I'm sorry, I just-" Beomgyu lets out a bitter laugh. His hand falling from his face and you're faced with an expression that was hard to read.

"When I heard some guys in the locker room chuckling about the rumours that had been going around you, I nearly lost my mind because I was so angry." he confessed, letting out an emotionless laugh, the words slipping out with a controlled restraint.

His voice, though measured, hinted at a seething frustration. You frowned at the sight of his frustration. He isn't the type to lose his genuine cool easily. He goes along with whatever and fixes what he can because he's the type who wants to keep moving forward. Even when he was overreacting with his loud nature, it was always humorous and he was always gentle under all that energy.

But right now, an uncharacteristic calmness settled over his features. A chilling intensity in his gaze, a strain was visible from the subtle twitch of his jaw.

Your heart panged in your chest at the sight of this side of him, the thought of his rare anger bubbling out all because of you made you feel an overwhelming amount of guilt.

“had' a ton things I wanted to say to those guys talking about you so crudely. Give em' a piece of my fucking mind-."

"Beomgyu." Your voice an anchor.

It was a quiet whisper but with weight behind it. You approach him and place a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, you can calm down. I'm here, see?"

Beomgyu sighed heavily, as he reached for your hand, taking it in his. "I just... I hate that you went through all that alone," he confesses, his voice sounding guilty, breaking through his previous frustration. "I can't control what people will say or do about me, but coming for my girlfriend is another story"

His words hang heavy, you gently took his shoulders as you turned him to face you.

"You couldn't have known. If anything, it's my fault for keeping this from you," you tried to reassure him as you searched for his eyes, eyes that were too ashamed to even look at you.

Beomgyu's face hardened at the sound you taking responsibility for everything that had happened to you, his brows furrowing in disapproval as if it was the most absurd thing he had ever heard.

"None of this is your fault Princess." he says with resolute in his voice. "I can't control what people will say or do about me, but coming for my girlfriend is another story" he say with determination, his eyes meeting yours again with protectiveness in his gaze.

"You've done all that you can, I love that you wanted to keep up a fight but let me take it from here, okay? Both as your best friend and as your boyfriend I'll set things straight.”

You attempted to summon your usual bright smile in response, a testament to your resilience. However, the weight of the situation proved too heavy, and your expression faltering. "Thing is," you began, your voice carrying a hint of exhaustion, "I just knew something like this might happen because of your reputation around campus,"

Beomgyu listened attentively, his eyes filled with concern as he listened to how you had put so much pressure onto yourself when none of this wasn't even your fault. "but I wanted to handle this because I knew I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing anyone, especially you, thought that I can't defend myself as your girlfriend."

"It makes me hate myself even more since I’ve only just made things worst for everyone.” your voice tinged with drain and a vulnerability that you rarely showed.

Beomgyu's heart ached at your confession. He cupped your face gently, guiding your gaze to meet his.

"Hey," his tone gentle yet firm. "You're not alone in this, you have me, remember? "Your well-being is my priority, hm?" leaning up to pressing a kiss to your forehead. An overwhelming sense of comfort and ease washing over you. Closing your eyes, a couple tears fall from your lashes.

He then moves down to kiss the wet skin under your eye and then pulls you into a comforting embrace. offering a tender smile. "And, love, you haven't made things worse for anyone. If anything, you've shown incredible strength in facing this head-on."

His face full of concern, you couldn't bring yourself to move feeling as if one small step would leave you falling through your carpet and into the core of the Earth.

Noticing this, his arms enveloped you in an embrace, a safe haven amidst the chaos of emotions.

You stood still for a moment but you slowly your head rested against his chest, the tension you had been holding onto slowly began to melt away in the warmth of his embrace.

You found a sense of security you hadn't realized you needed. The weight on your shoulders lifted. And for the first time that night, you let yourself relax, finding solace in the warmth his arms.

After a moment, it took everything in you to find the feeling, the words that carrying the weight of the emotions you were grappling with.

"Thank you," you say against his shirt. Yours glistened with unshed tears, but this time, they were tears of relief.

"My big crybaby," Beomgyu laughs softly, endearment in his voice. His laughter dives down and he pulls you away, taking a minute to examine your face for a moment, leaning forward as he presses two more kisses over your eyes, shutting your eyes tight before his lips meet your skin.

"You're okay baby, don’t be too hard on yourself. You have me for that”.

Your eyes widening as you processed his words. You pull away from him and slap his shoulder and he breaks out in a fit of giggles. You groan loudly, now of all times you think to yourself. Despite your glaring, it doesn't stop the sudden twist in your stomach that came at the sight of his gorgeous smile.

"Seriously?" you press, as he calms down and your own laughter mingling with a playful exasperation. "Can't we have a moment without your cheeky comments?"

He couldn't help but chuckle again at your reaction, his laughter a welcome relief amidst the heavy atmosphere. "Hey, I had to lighten the mood somehow," he teased, "Besides, I can't let you drown in all this seriousness. Gotta keep you on your toes."

You barely suppress a scoff as he's coaxing you back into his arms again, he hums despite your annoyance and squeezes you gently.

You shake head, but a small smile plays on your lips. "You're insufferable, are you aware of that?" you say. Your tone a mix of annoyance and affection.

He winks at you, his tone still light. "But you love me anyway."

"Unfortunately" you let out a soft sigh, leaning into Beomgyu's embrace, appreciating the lightheartedness he brought to the heavy situation.

Beomgyu chuckles, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

[Friday, 12:53 AM]

After your breakdown, you and Beomgyu layed curled up in each others arms between your silk sheets for hours, as the rest of the world slipped away. A tranquil refuge from the cruel reality you had been fighting, laid to rest.

Beomgyu gently traced circles on your back, his touch a soothing balm to your emotional recovery. In the quiet intimacy of the moment, his arms a gentle touch that was so comforting you can almost hear it echo through the room.

"How are you feeling?” he hums, swiping away the hair fallen onto your face. You feel like swooning with how gentle his skin is against your features.

“I mean, the stress is still there, like what might happen on when we get back to school but…” You drawl.

“But I just want to stay here now, my body wants to stay close to you” You say looking up to him. You notice a look in his eyes, his eyes that seem to have been focused on you.

You thought back to that bitter feeling of fore-lonely-ness lingering inside of you earlier today, it was when you dragged your eyes back up to his eyes you realized, Not anymore.

"I'm right here" his voice as soft as linen, he smiles so gentle, yet sweet, the whisker under his eyes appear.

A soft smile played on your lips as your heart swelled with devastating affection towards the boy in your bed.

“You are” you say, your fingers brushing against his cheek, his left eye closest to your hand squinting a bit and your heart twinges at the sight of him doing that.

You felt incredibly vulnerable yet comfortable as he left himself entirely open to you as well. Your body felt as if it was floating,.

“I really am lucky that it was you that I ended up with” your voice a whisper and muffled, your eyes closing as you nestle into the curve of his neck

"I think I'm the lucky one baby," he replied with a casual nonchalance, as if trying to one-up you. The sound of him failing to suppress his laughter reverberated through his chest.

You pulled away slightly, looking him dead in the eye. His laughter only intensified as your eyes met, his eyes tightly shut he looked like that one laughing emoji.

"Really?" you question, an annoyed glint in your eyes.

His laughter subsided as he leans down to rest his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed before relaxing again. "Yeah, really. You're everything to me, Y/N." he confessed, his eyes opening to look at you with a tantalizing gaze, unwavering.

Your heart sank to your stomach at his words as you stared at him in awe, not being able to move, not even inch away from his gaze.

You think back to how earlier, you were in the same bed except you felt like you were falling so painfully slowly into a grey void. And now, you've found yourself home again. Beomgyu’s arms around you being the only thing you need.

A voice inside you spoke to your heart, it was from realization on who your heart really belonged to.

Sorry honey, but I'm no longer yours, you're his.

BONUS I [Monday, 07:51 AM]

The following Monday, you were walking through the halls that morning towards your locker, the weight of the previous week's events still lingering in the air. Hushed whispers and stifled laughter echoing from the students around you, the same hurtful rumours circulating like wildfire. Everyone seemingly taking a more malicious pleasure in the whispers that followed you.

As you passed by the groups of gossiping students, you couldn't escape the feeling of judgment piercing through your back, no doubt reminiscent of the scene that had taken place in the bathroom last Friday.

Your nerves tensed even more as you spotted those same girls down the hall, their nasty smiles perhaps signalling another potential scene.

Your heart was beating loud inside of your ears and your anxiety reaching another high when a familiar voice called out your name from behind. And before you could turn around to see who it was, a familiar hand slipped into yours.

Your heart skipped a beat as you glanced up to see your boyfriend.

He had a serious expression on his face. He shot an intimidating look at, quite literally, anyone who dared to glance in your direction. The hallway, once filled with judgmental gazes, now held a palpable weight of authority that radiated from him.

Dare even say you found this side of him a bit hot.

You notice Beomgyu stare holding in place at a specific place in front of the two of you and it wasn't hard to figure out who he was eyeing down as you looked toward the culprits.

Their once confident smiles were now unsure glances between each other, his presence alone seemed to have cast a shadow over their intentions. Beomgyu his gaze was enough to let them know that you are, and always has been, his choice.

And without a moment longer, they quickly dispersed into different ways except for the path that led to you and Beomgyu.

Letting out a heavy sigh, the tensity in posture relaxing as his shoulders fall down.

"May I walk you to class fair maiden?" he teased, wagging his eyebrows and offering you a knowing smile.

A genuine smile broke across your face. "You may, fair knight."

BONUS II [Monday, 8:00 AM]

As you both reached your locker, Beomgyu continued the banter. "So, my princes, any quests or dragons that need slaying with today?"

Your giggles resonates through the room and Beomgyu can't help but fall smitten at the sight of your beautiful smile. "Not today, fair knight. Your presence alone is enough."

He hums and smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

Taking the last of your books out of your locker and slamming it shut, he walks you to your first class. The hallways seemed to part as you walked with Beomgyu hand in hand, the whispers of gossip shied away into the background.

Reaching your class, you're about to bid him a Thank you and Goodbye when he leaves a chaste kiss on your cheek, catching you by surprise.

And as if that wasn't enough, he tells you an, I love you Y/N!, loud enough for everyone around you the two of you to hear. You watch his back he runs down the hall to his next class, in no doubt he's late for, as a smitten smile makes its way onto your lips.

You sit down beside Taehyun, a teasing smile on his face. You purse your lips and narrow your eyes in annoyance and he gets back to what he's doing.

Throughout class you think about everything Beomgyu has done for you since last night till this morning in the hall, confidently showing you off and defending you. And thinking back to what he had said before he sauntered off to his own class, you're whispering what you wish you had said before he turned the corner, a reply,

an I love you too.

A/N PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! I'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR A WHILE SO YK, FUN LITTLE DRABBLE 😞 LMK IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST!

#beomgyu x reader #beomgyu #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu fluff #choi beomgyu #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x y/n #choi beomgyu fanfic #choi beomgyu angst #txt choi beomgyu #txt beomgyu

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bas-writes · 2 months

Text

your blind date is waiting for you...

A suitor is awaiting for @mewiyev who as their dream date wanted to attend a cake decorating class. I hope you will spend lovely time together!

gender neutral reader | ~800 words | modern AU

Working together with this man is calling for a disaster, you must admit that. He likes to joke that he was born with two left hands and tangled legs-and it's a very generous euphemism. He's not any less agile than an average person, not even that clumsy in comparison to other hopeless cases you can recall, but he's so prone to a tragedy that he must have been cursed at some point of his life.

Cursed with bringing anything into a spectacular failure, without any prior warning, and somehow taking the most comical route possible out of it.

It doesn't extinguish the enthusiasm though, neither yours nor his.

Cake decorating class was rather a coincidence than a conscious choice. Yes, you were looking for a new hobby back then, but you didn't do any research towards the few ideas that came to your mind. And none of them were related to cooking. Class advertisement caught your eye when Rosinante was walking you home from a coffee date, more because of its interesting design than the topic of the class itself. The talk wandered casually towards baking, you compared your achievements and (mostly his) failures, and you wondered, why not, learning how to make cute cake decorations together could be so much fun.

Much to your surprise, an hour after you parted your ways, he called you and, with a wide smile audible in his voice, announced that he signed you two for a demonstration lesson.

It barely started and Rosinante has already swallowed everyone's attention. The majority of participants are middle-aged women, so he stands out on every field possible even without making a clown out of himself. Hunched over his spot, hair falling into his eyes, he does his best to not be the main novelty of the evening, and the harder he tries, the more he fails. You feel a bit sorry for him-but also can't help but enjoy the show yourself, not without a sprinkle of satisfaction that it was you who brought its main star to the event.

A sight of a huge man like him preoccupied with detailed work is truly endearing. In his paws, a piece of a kiwi fruit and a knife look like accessories for a doll tea party-yet, he's moving gently and with great precision. Whether he's being careful or not doesn't really change a thing against his sudden outbursts of clumsiness, so you know he's not doing it to avoid a scene, but rather out of genuine passion for his task. Did you accidentally hit the jackpot when pointing at the advertisement?

Whether he's doing this for you or for the interest he found in class, Rosinante is definitely having a blast out of it. A whole decade seems to have fallen out of his shoulders with just a fruit in his hands and a short tutorial shown to him. He curls and tries to escape the attention, at the same time he's almost shaking in his spot, barely taming himself from calling you every time his cut works as it should. He would have done a better job out of it-it's just a simple flower made of a kiwi-but excitement throws his attention all over the place. Truly a golden retriever boyfriend.

You can't blame him as you're not much better. Everything he does just pulls your eyes towards him and, over and over again, you catch yourself staring with the same intensity as all the women around you, teacher included. The deliberate short cuts made with a knife not much bigger than his fingers. Thick fringe falling into his eyes. The nervous tick-gnawing at his lower lip-left after he quit smoking. Slippery fruit sliding out of his calloused, clumsy hands-and the twist and noises he does when it's doing so.

"Hey, Y/N, I think it finally goes somewhe-" He huffs with triumph when he pins down the last escape attempt and tries to, with the same, juice-soaked hand, brush hair out of his nose.

The tragedy unfolds in three seconds at best, but you feel as if it was played to you in slow motion. Reckless graze, maybe a droplet of juice falling where it shouldn't, has Rosinante making a weird face, then inhaling sharply-and sneezing into fist, closed around the so hard-worked-for fruity flower.

The crowd, you included, jerks in place, then coos with sympathy at his genuinely disappointed pout. No cake decoration could survive a hearty squeeze from the hand of an ex-Marine.

"Aww, shit," He licks the pulp straight from his palm and reaches for a kitchen towel. "Sorry. I don't think I'm cut for this. Would you mind if I just stared at you instead?"

#corazon x reader #corazon x y/n #corazon x you #corazon imagine #op x reader #op x you #op x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #bas writes #op #rosinante #blind dates #gender neutral reader

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prawnlegs · 1 year

Photo

I’m getting the postcards for next month all ready to mail and I realized it had been a while since I updated this thing. I keep alternating portrait and landscape orientation so they don’t make a tidy spread, but wow! That’s a lot of illustrations! The one going out soon has shiny foil accents. Still time to sign up for it HERE

#Illustration #job satisfaction comic #snail mail #demons #queer webcomics #webcomics

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lavenoon · 7 months

Text

Conjunction (~9.9K)

More menace4menace, based on @naffeclipse's Bloodstain Fool with the og detective au by sunnys-aesthetic!

Plays after the first doodle comic, and after Falling Into Orbit, but before Asterisms

—

“Got your target?”

Sighs sound different without any breath involved, you’re learning.

You’ve been following Eclipse for a small distance already, waiting for him to say something, to no avail. It’s not that you’re quiet about it, so you don’t think it’s a matter of not having spotted you yet - and his reaction to your question proves it.

Eclipse turns.

You grin.

Half lidded golden eyes glow even brighter with the sun starting to set behind the urban horizon. Not a true sunset yet, but darkness is starting to settle between the high rises. The lighting is gorgeous, and unfortunately, it’s rubbing off on Eclipse.

And that, in turn, reminds you of your impulsive compliment just the other day. Is it worse that you still mean it?

At least you don’t have to think about it for too long, thanks to his sparkling personality.

“Why are you following me? Can’t you take a hint?”

Ah. That’s why he ignored you for half a block.

You try not to let it get to you. It’s not the easiest task, waving off the rejection from the only person you somewhat know and who knows about you in this time, but you’ve had a bit too much practice putting on an act anyhow. You shrug, grin just barely strained.

“We have a saying for hints, a wave with a fencepost.”

The tired expression morphs into a scowl, one you’re a bit more familiar with. Now he’s confused - and that’s enough to soothe your wounded ego. Enough to make your grin genuine again, and then worse.

Eclipse’s glower evolves in parallel.

“Are you going to elaborate or not.”

Well, you can be gracious.

“You could throw the whole fence at me and I’d duck to look at a ladybug.”

It’s likely that the only reason you notice his hand twitch is because it’s just barely below your eye level. Tall bastard. The movement draws your gaze, but when nothing else happens, you tilt your head back up.

He’s no longer looking at you, eyes still narrowed as he stares off into the distance. His voice is quieter, too.

“A fence is about the only thing you could dodge.”

There’s a deja vu when he shifts and just walks away, except this time you do have other options. You still follow him.

“I answered your question, so? Did you catch them? Why target, anyway?”

As much as you want to keep an eye on his expression, unfortunately you’re too uncoordinated by nature and tripping on the uneven sidewalk is too much of a risk if you aren’t looking. Still, you spare him another prying glance he probably doesn’t see before focusing downwards.

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

“And satisfaction brought him back. So?”

“Him?”

Eclipse actually slows, his optics already on you when you look up to check. Not hostile, for once, but still confused. You shrug with a lighthearted smile.

“Or her. Either’s good. But I’d like my satisfaction, please.”

Just to emphasize, you make a grabbing motion with your hand, palm up. And trip over a loose tile in the pavement. At least you don’t fall - but the inelegant floundering isn’t quite helpful in your endeavor of figuring out Eclipse’s job.

He’s no longer looking at you when you regain your balance.

“You’re awfully sure there will be satisfaction involved.”

“Your mysterious deflections are only making it worse for you, you know?”

Again, a sigh. Either the low rumble of static is just part of an animatronic’s sigh, or he’s starting to get grumbly again. Given his disposition, your bet is on the latter. Thin ice, then.

Watch you stomp on it to find out just how thin. Maybe that’s why they call it ice breakers.

You skip a step, keeping even with him, and grin. Eclipse sends you a burning glare, as if in warning. But all too quickly he averts his eyes again, and then you have to speed up to keep pace. He’s not getting rid of you that easily.

And your stubbornness wins out after another few steps, and another fleeting glare.

“I’m a bounty hunter.”

You hum.

“Oh right, that’s a thing.”

This time, it’s Eclipse’s feet stuttering - but you don’t look up to see how your reply insulted him this time. It’s certainly less regulated nowadays than what you��re used to, and somehow, you can imagine him in that kind of field perfectly. Grumpy loner with ominous favors who also hunts whomever the finger of the law is pointed at.

Maybe that explains the suggestion of a gun, too.

Silence stretches for just a bit too long, so you end up glancing back up at his face despite the risk of tripping. He’s facing away from you, so that tells you nothing. Are you imagining the tension in his shoulders, or is he waiting for something?

Looking up comes with other nice surprises too - there’s a few clouds starting to smother the orange of the sunset. Oh, you hope it’ll rain tonight. Falling asleep might be a little easier that way. Your sleep schedule has suffered enough.

You focus back on the path in front of you, preventing any other tripping accidents.

Given that you haven’t been sent away or glared at again, you decide to say something else. It might not be anything particularly smart, but that’s his problem.

“I’m assuming it’s not like the movies. Worn Wanted posters, ‘Dead or Alive’, that you can dramatically rip from pin boards or something.”

Eclipse looks back down to glare at you, just as the street lamps buzz on. More golden light all around, even more so with his pupils shrunken to pinpricks.

“What movies are you talking about?”

Bastard has no right looking this pretty.

“Westerns, mostly.”

That actually stops him in his tracks. In an attempt to remain aloof you continue walking, except - you have no idea where you’re going. You halt just a few steps later, turning back with the best innocent smile you can muster.

You’re kind of glad his eyes are such an easy tell for his emotions - they’re narrow, but golden, and his pinprick pupils have once again expanded. He just looks tired, maybe annoyed.

“It’s a miracle you even survived the week.”

The snort escapes you before you can stop it. A miracle, after he so pointedly got involved?

“Well, only thanks to you. Food and a roof over my head are some basic requirements that helped a lot.”

You wink, just to keep the air light. It doesn’t do anything to stop Eclipse from scowling.

“Stop that.”

A widened grin, and a deepened scowl. Somehow, this seems to be your pattern. You shrug.

“Just saying.”

With another rumble Eclipse starts walking again, brushing past you without concern. You jump a step to get back into the motion, and then match his pace. Who even needs a workout regime if you have a grumpy animatronic to keep up with?

“I see you still haven’t learned to keep your mouth shut.”

Despite the cutting words, you don’t feel like the tone quite matches that sharpness. Not friendly, mind you, but much less hostile than you’ve heard from him before. Laughter bubbles up in your voice, and you don’t care to smother it.

“Bold of you to assume I ever will.”

The long suffering sigh you get in reply only makes you laugh harder. Though only for a moment, before a question is directed at you for a change.

"How are you still dressed like that?"

He gestures towards you, eyes on you as he waits. Though he doesn’t slow down at all.

You blink, and look down on your outfit. It’s certainly a choice to walk around in something that won’t be worn for another century, but then again… Your choices here are rather limited. And as far as you’re concerned, you’ll gladly wear familiar outfits rather than worry about buying new ones with money you don’t have.

Eclipse only narrows his eyes at your shrug.

"Would you believe me if I told you the stuff just shows up in my closet every morning?"

Silence sure isn’t the answer you expected. You glance back up, head tilted, waiting for his judgement. After a moment of consideration he looks away. The noise he makes isn’t hostile enough for a snarl, but too grumbly to be a sigh. It is a concession, though.

"Your anomalous existence affecting your surroundings should faze me more, but sure, why not."

The defeat in his tone startles a laugh out of you, and you skip the step it costs you.

"Yeah, same. I went inside, didn't go home. Not even Narnia."

Ah, hm. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that.

"Narnia?"

Yeah, no, that is not a story you want to get into. You’re not even sure how similarly history will play out with animatronics around. Also not a topic you want to analyze further. So once again, you shrug.

"Wait a couple years, it'll make sense."

And if not, by then he’ll hopefully have forgotten about it.

“I would hope you’re not just volunteering future information to other people.”

This time the sharper tone is accompanied by a quick matching glare. Naturally, you wink.

“Nah, don’t worry. You’re special.”

The frustrated grumble is wordless, and you have to press your lips together to not laugh. But he does pick up pace again, and you hurry after him.

Something wet hits you.

You look up.

The sky isn’t just night dark - it’s covered in heavy clouds, and just like that, the next fat raindrop hits your face. You blink. Another.

So you get your wish of a rainy night. Now if only you were in your bed, you’d be all set. Mild panic creeps up in your throat, and you run a few steps to catch up with Eclipse.

“Uhh!”

Eclipse turns, frowning at your tone. But he does stop, which honestly? You didn’t really expect. So you take the plunge.

“Where are we?”

“Where -”

His scowl deepens in record time as he looks around, and then his eyes are blazing even in the twilight granted by the nearby street lamp. Mostly the light illuminates the steady increase of rain hitting the ground.

“You followed me home. You followed me home?”

Your first instinct is to smile again, though this time it’s a lot more wobbly than before. You didn’t think this through, at all. You didn’t even notice how far you were going, all because you were too focused on talking.

Maybe you can find your way back, retrace your steps - but you’ve been following Eclipse for a while now, and even before that you weren’t exactly close to the boarding house. You’ve been wandering a lot these days, for lack of other activities, and now you’re looking at a good distance to walk. In the rain. At night.

But maybe Eclipse knows a shortcut. It’s not like you have many options.

“Uh. How far to the boarding house?”

“Too far.”

Quick way of shattering your hopes, then. You deflate.

In your periphery, Eclipse reaches out - but aborts the motion with a curl of his fingers. Just as you look he turns, instead waving over his shoulder. Yours are getting wetter by the second, and you see the matching darkness growing on his coat.

“Follow me. You’re not dying without paying me back for that favor.”

You’d hopefully just get drenched, but if that’s what he has to tell himself to help you’ll take it. Thinking about how much better he knows this city by night isn’t really helping your anxiety. You’ve been a duckling for this long, so there’s no reason to stop now.

Somehow you just keep getting yourself into these objectively dangerous situations, huh?

For once, you stay silent as you follow Eclipse past the last block. There’s tension in the line of his shoulders and you’re pretty sure you’re about to owe him again. He doesn’t seem happy about it. You can’t blame him. This was avoidable, it shouldn’t have happened. Anxiety is churning your stomach.

Only when he takes a turn into a nearby apartment complex do you find the courage to speak up again. Your steps echo on the tiled floor, breaking the silence for you.

“You’re waterproof?”

You can figure, given his lax reaction to the rain, but you’d feel better with the confirmation. Despite everything, animatronics are new to you, and you’re missing a lot of what would be considered common knowledge.

Eclipse just glares, obviously not happy over having to state the obvious.

“Do you think I’d be done in by a bit of rain?”

Your shrug doesn’t feel half as cheeky as all the preceding ones.

“No, but wanted to make sure.”

Something in his expression shifts, so you duck your head. If you can’t see his annoyance, it can’t hurt you.

Silence reigns.

Eclipse turns on his heels, and continues down the hallway. You shuffle after him, chancing a glance back up at his back.

Have his shoulders relaxed, or is that wishful thinking?

“Don’t you think I would have been more concerned about the rain if I wasn’t?”

Some of the edge has left his voice, and unfortunately you immediately read into it. Your own shoulders drop with the relief as you follow him up the stairs. This is a worse workout than everything before. He’s so fast.

“I mean, yeah, but I prefer checking in with the expert.”

“Surprising enough that you’re admitting ignorance.”

You can’t see his face, but his tone makes you picture an eye roll. Still annoyed, but the edge hasn’t returned. You crack a smile.

“I don’t know a lot of stuff. Would you like me to elaborate?”

He steps away from the stairwell, and you notice just how high the ceilings are - but still only high enough to leave a few meager inches between his top most sunray and the stucco on the ceiling.

Mostly, you’re just glad you only had to climb the stairs up one floor. He’s fast enough on even ground, where he doesn’t get to skip steps.

“Don’t.”

With a grin you start listing things, eyes closed for posterity.

“Physics, never had a good teacher. Social cues - no one tells you those rules, and I hate it. Taxes are nebulous too, even after I’ve started - ough.”

You’re yanked back by your collar, and make an ungraceful sputtering sound. Shouldn’t have closed your eyes then - seems like you missed Eclipse stopping at his apartment door. But his hand lets go of your shirt as quickly as he’s grabbed you, and you’re left rubbing the spot where the fabric dug into your throat.

Eclipse scowls, but there’s something new to it. His grin is wider than usual, just a bit.

“When to shut up.”

You test it, just a bit, and let your own smile grow.

“I think that’s part of the social cues.”

His eyes narrow, but you don’t feel apprehensive.

“The fences.”

You nod sagely.

“The fences.”

A huff of static, and he unlocks the door. A snort? You’re starting to get amusement without it being at your expense then, that’s progress.

Stepping past the threshold makes your anxiety spike again though. With the room he got for you it was different - this is his space, and you’re only here because you didn’t pay enough attention.

Well, also because Eclipse is nicer than he lets on. Or believes himself to be, maybe. You’re still convinced you wouldn’t have died walking back to the boarding house.

But it’s strange. Following him through the foyer, the coat and shoe racks are the only things indicating that anyone lives here. No decorations to the wall, no carpets on the bare floor, barely even any furniture in the hall. That’s a lot of wasted storage space.

The first thing actually indicating a personality for the place is in the living room.

“A leather couch?”

There’s more furniture of course, dark wooden drawers and shelves, a desk covered in documents and a chair, and a high coffee table matching the couch. But somehow the obvious source of comfort is what stands out to you.

“Easier to clean off.”

Comfort, huh?

Eclipse continues walking down the hallway stretching on beyond the room, but you halt with a frown.

The dark leather on the large (Eclipse-sized) three seater looks well maintained even with the worn creases on one of the edge seats. Eclipse’s preferred spot, it seems. The furthest from the window, and with a good view of the entrance. A realization about as cheerful as his comment.

You trace a deeper line on the armrest, bright where the leather broke.

“Ominous. Have they invented blacklight yet?"

You hear rustling from an open door, and you don’t think he heard you. Warily you step away from the couch to follow. Probably best if he didn’t hear you, actually.

Except he did, and his reply echoes from what you must now assume is the bathroom.

"Why?"

The suspicion is evident, and you have no other option but to commit. Not that he sees the shrug, but it helps you remain lighthearted. He heard you all the way over there without issue, but still you raise your voice just slightly.

"I’m taking that as a yes. Even cleaned up, you'd still see a whole lot in blacklight. Urine, blood, platypuses."

The confusion echoes, too.

"Pla-”

Eclipse ducks back out, stepping out of the bathroom with a scowl directed at you.

“No. Don't do that here."

Shame, you almost got him with the platypuses. It makes not grinning very hard, and you fail much too quickly. His eyes only narrow further as he steps back into the living room, and then his hand is moving too fast for you to process.

Fabric covers your head. You blink against the bright terry cloth, yellow from the light passing through it, then pull it away from your face.

A towel - you aren’t even that wet. But what gets you more than the gesture is the sheer size of it. Nearly a blanket, really.

“Something wrong?”

The words are barely more than a growl, a storm just waiting to be unleashed. The question, not really a question - a dare. Seems like you look just a bit too taken aback.

Honesty it is, then. Baffle him too much to be upset with you. You look back up to meet his glare head on, fingers still buried in the soft fabric, and blink.

“I kind of expected red towels. White doesn’t match you.”

Eclipse blinks, too, and for a breath his eyes are just wide and golden. Plan, success. But much too soon he averts his gaze, eyes narrowing as if on instinct.

You want to see him relaxed more often.

And where did that thought come from? Challenges usually aren’t your thing, and this guy is tougher than a rock with about as much emotional awareness.

Honestly, that might even be too generous an assessment.

“Red can’t be bleached.”

The response startles you out of your thoughts, and it takes you a moment to process. It clicks, just a bit belatedly - Eclipse has already brushed past you back into the hallway.

“Oh.”

You don’t leave the living room, but step closer to the threshold to the hall. Watch as he takes off the wet coat and hangs it up on the coat rack, nearly bunching up at the ground.

Again you raise your voice.

“Thank you.”

The glare hits harder from the dark hallway, but it doesn’t faze you. You’re getting desensitized.

“I told you to stop that.”

You stick out your tongue, then cover your head again and towel your hair dry, just a bit. Plausible deniability in terms of disrespect, or something. Mostly hiding from retaliation, given that you’ll disappoint him yet again.

“I won’t stop saying thank you if you keep helping me, that’d be rude.”

“Don’t test me, I’ll kick you out.”

As expected, his tone is sharper than your knife collection. Though, to be fair, you got yours for the looks, and not for their functionality.

“I don’t think you will.”

You pull off the towel just a bit, holding on to it as you look up to where he’s scowling. But angry as he looks, he’s not making any move towards you, remaining more than an arm’s length away. One of his, too.

It’s a gamble, daring him to go through with his threat - but if he wanted to get rid of you, he really wouldn’t need to threaten it. From the start he hasn’t tried particularly hard to make you someone else’s problem. Your police bluff couldn’t have been that convincing, unless he’s really worried about involving them, and just running for a block would have shaken you off easily.

He’s not as uncaring as he wants you to think, and unfortunately for him, you won’t play along.

You blink, ending the staring contest, and his shoulders drop with a static huff.

“You’re a walking headache. Dry off, I’m not dealing with a sick you.”

It’s hard not to smile, so you just hide it behind the towel and a ducked head. You’re still pretty sure you earn a glare for your quiet snort, even though you try to cover it up with a cough.

Pulling down the towel you unfortunately see the next issue.

“Uhh? Eclipse?”

Where did he disappear to, anyway?

“What?”

Your drawn out hum doesn’t seem to incite any confidence, because he stalks through an open door back into the hallway.

“What?”

You grimace.

“So, uh, the bleach? You might need that. Usually the dye washes out without issue, but that’s with the cleaning stuff from a hundred years in the future, so…”

The frown deepens as confusion starts to weigh on him, and he steps closer. You pull the towel away from your neck and hold it out. The red and purple dye spots are faint, more orange and pink respectively, but definitely visible, and you really should’ve thought about that before. It’s not like your hair was that wet either.

Eclipse stares.

You swallow.

No reply.

“I’m sorry -”

Faster than a cobra his hand darts forward, and snatches the towel from your grasp. You fumble just a bit as he drags it away from you, holding on out of instinct before letting it pass through your hands. No rope burn for you today.

Without sparing you another glance, or even the chance to gauge his expression, he vanishes back into the bathroom. An insistent clank makes you jump, and then he reappears with a dark static brewing in his eyes like a storm. His pupils flicker ever so slightly, but you don’t get the time to really look.

A new towel is flying your way, and you scramble to catch it out of the air before it hits the ground.

You blink.

“Don’t stain it.”

When you look up, the door to what must be his bedroom slams shut. You think the doorframe vibrates, even.

It makes no sense. The old towel was fine, and if he doesn’t want them stained, why give you a new one? You could go grab the other one, making sure this one won’t get dripped on, but after what felt like progress his reaction to the stains throws you off. Risking the dark eyes isn’t really on your agenda for this unorthodox sleepover.

Wrapping the towel around your damp shoulders instead, you step backwards until you hit the leather of the couch. Kick off your shoes, and then curl up on the seat closer to the window.

It’s going to be a long night.

—

You don’t know how late it is when the door to Eclipse’s room opens quietly. Definitely late, long past your bedtime, but your mind is too restless to grant you any reprieve.

Golden eyes find yours in the darkness, and the tall shape that is your reluctant host steps into the hallway. You turned off the lights earlier, feeling more comfortable in the darkness, so the only sources of light are his optics and the faint illumination from the moon and street lights reaching through the window. The light doesn’t reach him.

“You’re still up.”

Huddled in your towel blanket, you shrug.

“Can’t sleep.”

The rain outside has trickled away to nearly nothing, and you’ve spent the last few hours lost in thought as you watched the raindrops race down the glass of the window.

Eclipse remains in the hallway, where the faint light from outside won’t reach. You still see his eyes narrow, bright as they are.

“I don’t have any bedding.”

“It’s not that.”

He shifts, but it’s too dark for that to tell you much.

“Ah. I didn’t expect you to be that prudent. I wouldn’t trust me either.”

You should have figured he’s being an idiot. The glare you send his way is probably the worst you’ve directed at him so far, and the glow of his optics disappears for a moment as he blinks.

“I’m not you. I was trying to figure out what I did wrong with the towel, not waiting for you to come kill me while I sleep. What the hell am I supposed to do if you decide to do that, anyway?”

There’s hardly anything you can do to stop him if he decides he’s had enough of you. Your only reassurance is his continued inaction despite all your pestering. Well, and the fact that you refuse to default to that kind of paranoia.

Still frowning he steps forward, just into the space where the moonlight dips into the hallway. Just that amount of light is enough to let you see the confusion evident on his face.

“... The towel?”

“You got angry.”

You don’t like how quiet your voice is. But any louder and it would crack.

So instead you just duck slightly, resting your chin on your knees. The perspective and your hair should hide most of your face. Maybe you pull the towel tighter around you, just a bit. It’s warm, offering just a bit of a shield.

Eclipse takes half a step forward, though you hear it more than you see.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. My reaction had nothing to do with you.”

That makes you look up. If he wasn’t mad at you for staining his towel, then why was he mad?

“Then why?”

Confusion furrows your brows as you right yourself. Eclipse dodges your gaze much too quickly.

“I won’t answer that.”

Given the reaction and now his tone, you’re starting to wonder if you even want to know. In any case you don’t feel like pushing him further on this, not tonight. You can let it go.

“Okay. But you’d tell me if I did something wrong?”

That part is important - and actually earns you another static snort. This time the narrow eyes aren’t angry, more a squint. Amusement. Back on track.

“Little star, have I hesitated to criticize you before?”

The bluntness makes you laugh, just a bit. You quell it quickly, but the smile doesn’t leave. Relief floods through you, and you feel more at ease.

This time when you rest your head on your knees you don’t look away from him.

“Good point. Why are you still up? Don’t you have to, I don’t know, charge some time?”

His shoulders rise, and that is an answer in and of itself. Right, he thought you’re “prudent” for not trusting him. Of course he’d manage to think of you as a threat.

“Ah, right. I could come into your room and kill you. Somehow.”

“Nothing personal. But I won’t trust you on principle.”

Your sigh hopefully tells him just what you think about that. Still, you decide to let him off the hook. And besides, you’re already talking, neither of you planning to sleep, or otherwise rest, so maybe you can have a little fun.

You extract a hand from your cozy cocoon to pat the couch. An invitation.

“Can’t blame you for that, I guess. Will you sit with me then? If neither of us is going to sleep.”

Eclipse frowns as he follows the motion with his eyes. Warily, he takes one step closer, into the dim lighting of the living room. The line of his shoulders relaxes just a bit, and then he closes the distance to the couch in resolute steps.

He does sit down in his spot, and you can’t even take the space between you two personally. Not when he looks so out of place looking back at you.

“And now?”

You huff, smile crooked where it’s pressed against your knees.

“I don’t know. It’s been a while since my last sleepover, and I don’t think you have a bottle to spin. We could play truth or dare.”

For a moment, his pupils flick away from you. But just for a breath - and then he relaxes against the backrest, settling into it.

“You go first.”

You perk up.

“Wait, really?”

One eye narrows, the other remains wider, and it gives the impression of a quirked eyebrow. At least, that’s how you choose to interpret it. The amusement in his tone speaks for it, too.

“A free pass to learn more about you and how you got here, and you don’t think I’d take you up on that?”

Snorting actually hurts - you pull your head down on instinct, knocking your nose against your kneecaps. Enough of that, then. You readjust just a bit, leaning into the crook between armrest and backrest. It allows you to face him more easily too, and you don’t hide your grin.

“I’ll pick truth, then.”

He doesn’t even hesitate.

“Why would you trust me? Follow me?”

You don’t know which time he means - which honestly just makes his question all the more relevant. For now you’ll answer for both, can’t go wrong with that.

“I didn’t really have a lot of options. And you haven’t made me regret it yet.”

He frowns.

“That’s reckless.”

You shrug.

“Sure is. Truth or dare?”

Best to move the game along. You can see he still wants to argue, but there really isn’t more to it. He’s helped you whenever you needed it for as long as you’ve known him - sure, it hasn’t been many times, or for long, but a hundred percent is a hundred percent. Grumpy or not.

There’s a moment of silence, and then, like pulling teeth, his choice.

“... Dare.”

Shoot, now you have to think. That’s the downside of these games, having to come up with questions and dares yourself. There’s not a whole lot you can ask him to do, given that this is his apartment and you don’t want to overstep.

Unless…

Your grin grows instinctively as the idea takes hold. Eclipse’s eyes narrow in suspicion, but you voice your dare before he gets to backtrack.

“Let me thank you, without being grumpy about it. Accept it.”

Golden eyes blaze before narrowing back at you.

“Wha-”

You squint, channeling your strongest little shit energy.

“Backing out?”

Even in the darkness you can see his expression twitch. It’s not what he expected, but pride forces him to let you go through with it. Pride, and the fact that he probably still has questions he wants to ask, and can’t end the game prematurely.

His tone does little to hide the strain, and you nearly laugh.

“No. Go ahead.”

Perfect. You straighten a little, as if that will help reflect that you mean it. Even with the dare, you don’t think he’ll actually believe you, but it’s the best you’ll get without being glared at.

“Thank you, for letting me stay tonight. And for getting me a room. I would’ve been majorly screwed without you, and I appreciate you cashing in a more lucrative favor to get me settled.”

The lemon face is back. You’re trying very, very hard not to laugh.

“You usually say ‘You’re welcome’ to expressions of gratitude.”

If his face looks like he’s bitten into a lemon, yours now looks like you’re trying to be unaffected by a sour candy. You’re pretty sure your eyes are tearing up from the strain of keeping the laughter down.

“You’re welcome.”

Words near dripping with disdain. You'll have to watch out for a puddle later, or you’ll slip.

You duck your head, hiding your face behind your knees again. Only this time you’re shaking with silent laughter.

“You sound like I’m holding you at gunpoint.”

Your voice warbles ever so slightly in amusement, and you’re not surprised when Eclipse cuts to the chase immediately.

“Truth or dare?”

He has questions, and you’re not sure you want to invite retaliation. Easy choice.

“I’m scared of the dares you’d come up with. Truth.”

Eclipse tilts his head, settling with a click. The suspicion isn’t new - in fact, it’s old enough to give you an inkling of what his question will be.

“What do you know about how you got here?”

Bingo. Unfortunately, there’s no prize to win, and you just sigh. You’ll have to disappoint him.

“Answer is absolutely nothing. One moment I’m back home, taking a little walk, I blink, I’m here and looking at a whole ass animatronic. I’ll give you a do over if you want.”

There’s a yawn creeping up on you, but you don’t want the game to end. You stretch your arms over your legs with a hum, hoping the tension will cover up the tiredness, and then relax again.

There’s a flicker to Eclipse’s expression that you can’t read, but then he sighs, too.

“No, an answer is an answer, satisfying or not. Truth.”

That’s barely better than dares, just on the other end of the spectrum. Dares are hard to come up with, whereas with truths… There are so many things you want to ask him, about this time and this world and about him and -

You hum, trying to stall for time, and scrunch up your face deep in thought. Maybe you need to approach this practically. For now you’re living here, so perhaps it’s good to learn about some rules you simply know nothing about.

“What do I need to know about animatronics?”

“That’s a broad question.”

Fair point. But he doesn’t sound inherently against the question, so you decide to elaborate. Maybe that will help him answer.

“I’ve been fumbling for over a week now. I just want to avoid obvious mistakes, things I shouldn’t mention, things not to ask. Like if you’re waterproof.”

For a moment he squints, amusement sparking in his eyes. But then he looks away, expression falling into something more thoughtful, and he hums.

When he meets your eyes again, his expression is hard. No trace of amusement left.

“Don’t ask about assignments before the revolution, before we had rights. It’s been twenty years, but too many humans still believe it was better then. Do not imply we should submit to that again.”

A revolution, huh? Of course things couldn’t be peaceful. It’s good to know about it, you figure, though you also can’t help but think that not knowing wouldn’t have been that much of an issue. It's not something you would have assumed blindly, and thus nothing you would have brought up. Maybe asking in and of itself was the faux pas you wanted to avoid.

Still, you want to go back to the lighthearted air you had going for you just before his answer, so you shrug.

“Well, that’s easy. ‘Don’t be a dick to people’, I can do that.”

“‘People’?”

That's a weird emphasis. Bad weird emphasis.

You crack your eyes open again, with a bit more effort than it should take you. Then again, it’s late. Then again, you already abandoned your sleep schedule for tonight.

Eclipse is frowning at you, and you have no idea why.

“Uh, duh.”

“We’re not human. And you can just accept that?”

You match his frown, if for different reasons.

“Why are you arguing against your personhood after just telling me not to do that?”

Silence and a deepening scowl are the only answer you get. You stare for a moment, but when it becomes clear he won’t elaborate, you sigh. Sounds like this runs deeper than you have the brain cells to spare tonight.

“I don’t know your history. I came here, and you helped me. That’s all I need to know you’re a good person.”

“I’m really not.”

There’s more gravel in his voice than in a good quarry. He’s still being difficult, and you’re a bit too tired to be gentle about your questioning.

You huff, barely dodging another sigh through spite alone.

“Do you want to be?”

Squintier and squinter, and then he’s avoiding eye contact again. Of course.

“It’s not your turn to ask.”

You throw your head back with a groan. It’s frustrating, not getting a straight answer. But “an answer is an answer, satisfying or not”. You’ll take it, and just hope the rest of the game will be more fun.

“Ugh, fine. Truth.”

Eclipse seems to be out for revenge now. His tone is still sharp, and you can’t say you’re a fan of his line of thinking.

“How are you so cheerful here? You lost all you know.”

Stating the obvious there. Whether purposeful retaliation or not, you figure you can look past one unfortunate question too.

You rest your head on your knee again, your cheek squishing almost uncomfortably.

“Yeah, but I also escaped late stage capitalism trying to kill everyone’s future.”

There, that’ll do. Except a snappy reply won’t really bring back the fun of the game, and only makes both of you feel awkward.

Maybe… maybe you do have a way to turn this conversation around. The smile comes automatically, small as it is.

“I do miss my sister though.”

“You have a sister?”

Surprise softens his tone. Seems like your little redirection worked even better than expected. You widen your grin then, thinking about how Eclipse would react to meeting her.

“Yup. Menace. She’s younger, but taller. Honestly, if you can’t handle me, she’d wreck you. She has a knack for sniffing out insecurities, and pulls no punches.”

You stretch, humming along. It does little to dampen your amusement, and you squint at Eclipse. His eyes are still narrow, but much more relaxed than before. Amused, maybe? He relaxes against the backrest again - you didn’t even notice him straightening.

“... I see she learned from the best.”

Your laughter is more a bark than anything else, and you slap your hand over your mouth quickly. Who knows how thin those walls are, and how many sane people are actually trying to get some sleep right now.

With the volume control back in place you do allow yourself a chuckle though.

“Student surpassing the master, if anything. Your turn.”

His eyes wander, moving away from you, and then he’s staring out of the window. You glance back, too. The rain is starting up again, a gentle background noise.

“Truth. Don’t make me regret it.”

You untwist your spine to look back at Eclipse, finding yourself late to the party. His glare doesn’t feel hostile, but it does remind you that there was something else you’ve been eager to ask. And while you’re already on the topic…

Time to figure out whom Eclipse doesn’t hate. You spare him a smile, aiming for a reassuring look, but the way his shoulders slump in resignation you don’t think you succeed.

“No fun in you ending the game early. Who's 'not everyone'?”

The quotation marks are more a suggestion from underneath the towel, but you don't care. You trust Eclipse understands - and he does, because he looks down. Almost melancholic. You don't know if you like it.

“... I have two brothers.”

A blink. A small part of you is intrigued by the technicalities - family by choice, but how so? Without blood in the way, when really all you have is choice, how does a family find together?

But even though it’s not about any revolution as far as you’re aware, this just screams insensitive question. So instead, you let excitement take over.

“You have brothers?”

As your grin grows, his frown deepens.

“Why is that so sur- why are you looking at me like this.”

The couch isn’t the bounciest, but soft enough to let you swing forward. You land on your hands, splayed on the leather of the unoccupied middle seat. Eclipse actually leans back, surprised by your sudden approach, or maybe put off by the mischief promised by your smile.

“Younger or older? Shorter or taller?”

At least he relaxes again, though not without his expression twisting into annoyance.

“... Your priorities are off, little star. And it’s not your turn.”

“Consider it a follow up. I need to know for science!”

You bounce once, insistently, and nearly laugh when you see it reach Eclipse. Scary scary bounty hunter, moved by your shenanigans.

“... Science.”

He says it just as the couch settles again. Too much fun. You bounce again.

“Younger or -”

“Little brothers.”

“Ahw man.”

You’ll keep the bouncing tucked away as an effective method of getting him to talk. Whether or not it’s just to keep you from talking is a secondary concern. For now, you groan in mock frustration, and push yourself back again. Your back hits the armrest, and you tuck the towel close again.

You huff, and Eclipse tilts his head slightly as he squints at you.

“Why are you disappointed?”

As you explain you wiggle a bit, shifting your legs into a position that doesn’t hurt your stiff knee.

“I have this theory of younger siblings outgrowing their older siblings. Though I guess with you in the mix I’d seriously be concerned for your brothers’ heads.”

For a second, you imagine it. Two more animatronics, even taller than Eclipse. Given that you know nothing about them so far, your imagination supplies you with two more Eclipses, somehow looking even grumpier as they flank the already grumpy Eclipse of your mind.

The real Eclipse isn’t any more cheerful in his reaction.

“... Do I have to tell you that animatronics don’t grow?”

Animatronics are not early two thousands robots, you forgot.

“... I might have been thinking of a movie again.”

At his groan you press your lips together tightly to avoid laughing. You’re pretty sure if he had a defined nose bridge he’d be pinching it.

“You’re incorrigible. Truth or Dare?”

You know what, you’re feeling daring.

“Hit me with a dare.”

Eclipse is much quicker than you in choosing dares, and you don’t like this stormy expression.

“Show me your shoulder.”

Your brows furrow on instinct. Your shoulder? Which one? Why?

“Huh?”

There’s no change to his expression, but he does elaborate.

“The one I hurt.”

Now you blink. That was over a week ago, and you haven’t even paid attention to the bruises. They’re gone, probably. You think. Moving around hasn’t hurt after the initial soreness wore off, and you don’t like the thought that he’s that hung up over an accident.

“It was barely anything, really. The bruises all faded.”

Still he won’t let up.

“Show me.”

No way out then. Though no one said you have to be happy about it. You peel yourself out of the towel blanket, and then push away the fabric from your shoulder.

In the dark, you can’t see shit. Maybe the bruises are gone, or maybe they’re just too faint to see. Without thinking you raise your finger and test instead, poking around where you remember Eclipse’s fingers digging in. You don’t get far before a larger hand wraps around yours, immediately pulling you away from the exposed skin.

You blink at Eclipse. His eyes are wide, flickering to something darker in the corners, and his hand twitches around yours. He snaps to the movement, as if unaware of his own actions, and then rips his hand away again.

“Don’t do that.”

He sounds like he’s hanging on by a thread, and you don’t think you want to know what happens when it snaps.

His sudden departure after learning he bruised you back at the boarding house. The strain in his voice then, and now. And, for a second, you think about the towel again. You don’t know how it relates to the bruises, but his eyes looked like this earlier, too.

The dark static calms somewhat, though he glances back at your shoulder for a moment. There’s no better word for it - he slumps in his seat.

“I’ve seen enough.”

You spare him one more wary glance, then sigh.

“I didn’t see anything, and the touch test was negative too. You can stop feeling guilty.”

No reply. You get started on restoring your layers of comfort. As you pull up your sleeve your eyes fall on your hand again, and you think about how big Eclipse’s is in comparison. You knew, he even grabbed your head before, but just like then you can’t let it go.

On the one hand, you would have liked some more time to actually process what his hand feels like. On the other hand, you’re mad at yourself for thinking like that.

Eclipse seems eager to move things along. His eyes may have brightened, but his voice still hasn’t.

“Dare.”

You hum. If you don’t know how to reassure him your best course of action is to ignore the weirdness entirely. Maybe one day you’ll figure out his deal with bruises. Maybe not. For now, not your circus and not your giant monkey.

“Ah, hm. Give me a moment, I need to think.”

There’s a brief pause, but then, slowly, almost hesitantly, Eclipse huffs.

“If I wanted to, I’d take that as the dare.”

So he’s fine with trying to keep things lighthearted. He doesn’t want to linger on whatever that was, either, and it strengthens your resolve. Said resolve may involve a lot of silliness, but he’ll have to deal.

“Shush, or it’s going to be something stupid.”

Just for posterity you scrunch up your face in thought, then tap your toweled finger against your chin.

Never looking away from your antics, Eclipse relaxes further. He leans back against the couch, even going so far as to rest his arm on the backrest. For a second, you believe him. Except then you notice the way his fingers are digging into the leather, and his careful projection shatters.

“Your last dare was stupid.”

You do have to admit he’s trying though. Unfortunately for him, you just had an idea, and it’s entirely self-serving. Well, maybe it’ll distract him, too.

“I don’t want to hear that from you. Show me your hand.”

A blink.

“My hand?”

“Yeah, like this.”

You grin as you raise one hand from your cocoon, splaying the fingers in the air. Eclipse looks on, tilting his head as if he’ll understand you better from a different perspective. From the way his frown twitches you don’t think it’s helping. But he does mimic the motion, glaring first at you and then at his hand. Slowly, hesitantly, he holds out his hand in the space between you two.

No time to lose. You scoot closer, and press your palm against his. He jerks back, but you only stretch further, following the motion.

“Stay. You’re not grabbing, it’s fine.”

He stills.

A soft laugh escapes you, now that you have the time to look. His hands are proportional to his body, which is to say they’re ungodly huge.

Not that you mind.

“Oh, big. I mean, I knew, I saw, but the side by side comparison sure is something.”

Eclipse tilts his hand, and you move with him. There’s a twitch that you ignore.

“You’re just tiny.”

Again you scoot closer, and extract your other hand too. Again he starts, but then you’re already pulling his hand closer. He lets you.

Absentmindedly, you prattle on.

“Look - okay, I can’t argue, I’m short even by human standards - wait! I think I’m actually pretty average in this day and age!”

One hand you keep on his, just so he doesn’t get any ideas about the dare being over. With the other you trace the lines on his palm where the casing is broken up to allow for movement. You move towards his thumb, the indent of the lower joint and the upwards, brushing past the rougher shell of his fingertip. Worn down from all the grabbing he does, for who knows how long.

You’re so lost in thought, you nearly miss his quiet retort.

“That doesn’t matter.”

It takes you an embarrassing amount of time to remember just what you were talking about, but then you huff.

“Because you’re big.”

The moment is over, and Eclipse’s patience runs out. He pulls his hand back and leans away from you, out of reach.

“Shut up.”

Despite his glare he still doesn’t sound hostile. You stick your tongue out at him, then shuffle back against your cozy nook.

“No, I’m choosing truth.”

The question comes much too quickly after another glance at his hand.

“Why aren’t you scared?”

You freeze.

The anxiety you’ve managed to keep down rears its ugly head again, churning your stomach, and you pull the towel tighter around you. Duck your head, even if you can’t escape his gaze.

Sometimes, silence is answer enough. He understands.

“You are.”

Try as you might, you don’t think he buys the nonchalance of your shrug. Still, you have no other option but to continue the act.

“Pretty much always, yup. You get used to doing things despite it.”

There’s a pause, the silence weighing heavy as you wait. Turns out you’re not off the hook yet.

“You had a follow up question earlier.”

Part of you wants to sigh. So you do, even as it turns into a yawn halfway through. Tiredness is starting to win out over the anxiety, so you look back up.

“Shoot.”

There’s an expectant hum in the air. Not like the intentional ones, more like the soft sound from old TVs. Well, old for your time, not this. Eclipse weighing his words, perhaps. A click, and he speaks.

“How scared are you of me?”

Ah. That probably shouldn’t surprise you as much as it does - from his perspective a valid concern, and of course something that would occupy his mind. After his very first question tonight, it just makes sense.

But he doesn’t understand what you’re scared of.

“Not as much as I probably should be. Not as much as you think I should be, anyway. Mostly just on principle - you’re bigger, stronger, and one of few people who even knows I’m here.”

No one who would miss you, or bother looking for you. You were lucky to meet someone who isn’t interested in making you disappear, not even to make his own life easier.

Someone who knows societal rejection first hand, too.

Anxiety quells, and you breathe easier. You relax against the backrest of the couch, accepting that you’ll have to peel yourself off later.

“I’d probably be more scared if you were human, actually.”

The tension you expelled is the tension Eclipse soaks up, it seems. His shoulders harden into a straight line, and his eyes narrow.

“That makes no sense.”

Earlier you thought you’re getting desensitized against his glares. Right now you’re just way too drowsy to care.

“Does it? I’m not really a human humans in power like. I’ve got things ‘wrong’ with me that don’t even have names yet.”

You take in a breath, barely concealing yet another yawn. The quotation marks you mimic with your fingers are about as energetic as your tone, so you can’t be sure he even notices.

For a moment, Eclipse just stares. But then he too sighs, and his shoulders drop again.

“I don’t doubt that. I’ll concede the point, I have no reason to antagonize you for who you are.”

Even so, this isn’t the tone you want to end this conversation on. You smile, tired as you are. At least he can interpret your squint as amused, too.

“Just for how much I’m annoying you.”

And you got him.

“So you admit you’re doing it on purpose.”

There’s no fire behind his words, and you chuckle softly.

“Never said that. Plausible deniability is my friend.”

His glare actually makes you laugh. It’s overly dramatic, and you’ve seen him be scary - this is so far from it. Maybe if you hadn’t been playing a silly little game for the better part of an hour you would be more inclined to be properly impressed, but now? Nope, no can do.

You sink a little lower on the couch, and your cheek squeaks slightly against the leather. Ough.

“One last round for you? I have one more question.”

Your enunciation is slowly but surely saying goodbye. Lack of sleep is catching up on you.

But for now, Eclipse indulges you.

"Truth."

"Why did you help me?"

If he can wonder just why you aren’t appropriately terrified, you can wonder just why he cares. Coincidence is the only thing tying you together, and that doesn’t actually seem like a big enough incentive for him.

He sighs again, turning a bit where he sits. Drapes his arm over the backrest again - no more need for distance then. Or maybe it’s just more comfortable. He’s not even looking at you, rather past you, out of the window. The rain is still pittering away.

"My reputation at the station is bad enough as is. Didn't want you running into either of my brothers telling them how I abandoned you."

What crumbs of energy you have left let you perk up at that implication.

“Your brothers are cops?”

“Yes. Don’t call them that to their faces.”

You snort. If you ever meet them you’ll have to remember, but for now you can’t help but abuse that newfound crumb of power.

“So that's how to get you to -”

The hand you so thoroughly inspected before now covers your entire face, and you laugh against it. There’s not much to see - the bit of light passing by his palm is barely enough to make out his fingers.

Though you didn’t get to sniff it before. If you were any more awake you might refrain, but right now you’re tired and his hand is right there. Given that you need to breathe, not smelling is harder than just giving into the impulse. Heavy and metallic, but mixed with something sweeter - some of it the leather, almost earthy, and some of it you don’t recognize.

At least he doesn’t seem to notice what you’re doing.

“Shut up. Don't even try.”

There’s something else you might try. Your impulse control is so dangerously low.

He’s not holding on tightly right now, barely even holding rather than just covering, but you’re not sure how well-advised it would be to translate your impulses into actions.

… Did he even wash his hands earlier?

Maybe you can distract yourself.

“Can you imagine though? ‘Hi everyone, I’m from the future, and also I met this grumpy animatronic who wouldn’t help me out. Name’s Eclipse, anyone know him?’. Makes me almost sad it was a bluff.”

“You were bluffing?”

Can’t make bad decisions if the temptation is out of reach. Eclipse pulls his hand away, just so you can see his wide eyed glare in all its glory.

You manage a satisfied grin despite your eyelids weighing all too heavy on your eyes.

“Oh, thanks, my next idea was to lick it and I don’t think either of us want that.”

For a moment he stares at his hand. You’re glad you’re looking, because you notice the near imperceptible shake of his head before he drops it again. Your laugh is barely more than a tired huff.

And yet, despite all that interesting bonus information, he hasn’t actually answered you yet.

"That's not really it though. That bluff came way later. Why not just dip when I started screaming?"

Again that half squint, leaving one optic wider. Sardonic, maybe.

"A human in hysterics and the bounty hunter with a violent reputation. What do you think people would have assumed?"

That sobers you up, too.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's out of your control."

He’s no longer looking at you. His back is against the couch, and he looks off into the room. Not at anything specific, you don’t think. Just staring off into space. Maybe pondering some what ifs, too.

What if you hadn’t appeared in front of him. What if right now, he could be charging in peace, being owed by someone who can actually pay up, and who won’t antagonize him at every turn.

You shrink in on yourself.

"Still, I've been causing trouble for you from the start."

Silence settles between you. It’s heavy, but your eyelids are heavier, and sleep might just win even against the fresh wave of guilt.

The moment stretches, and then golden lights find you again in the darkness.

"It's not all bad."

For someone who doesn’t believe in friendship he’s doing a shit job of keeping you at a distance. How can you not read into that?

"Yeah?"

Amusement sparks, even as the lights dim as he squints.

"I've learned many interesting things already. Like platypuses being fluorescent under a Wood's lamp."

A squeak, or a huff - you don’t know what your laugh resembles more. Eclipse is still squinting.

You stretch again, but there is no stopping this yawn. If you’re already standing by your sleepiness, you’ll make yourself comfortable too. First you unstick your cheek from the leather, then let yourself slide down. The couch is big enough for you to curl up in the corner and rest your head on the armrest, the towel between the leather and your skin. Avoid the bad stickiness.

Eclipse watches you silently, and you lazily blink his way.

“Don’t scratch the couch.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

“Hrm.”

Whatever he means, you’re not in the mood to ask. Words are escaping you at record speed. Instead you close your eyes, shuffling closer into the corner.

“That can’t be comfortable.”

Just because he can’t try. You’d shoot him a squinty glare if you had any inclination of opening your eyes right now.

“‘m small, ’s perfect.”

It’s comfortable, despite it being leather. The towel is a good barrier against the stickiness, and a warm little cocoon. Not as heavy as you’d like, maybe, but you don’t think weighted blankets have been invented yet.

At least you have the rain as background noise.

“The boarding house isn’t too far away from here, if you’re walking in daylight. I’ll map it out for you when you’re awake again.”

Eclipse’s voice startles you out of your daze, and you jolt. Still, your eyes remain closed, even as you huff.

“Not asl’p.”

There’s a low rumble of a laugh, and you smile against your cozy nest. He should laugh more often. Maybe you can tell him a few good jokes, see if he likes any. Not now though. Enunciation is too hard right now, whether you’re awake or not. You totally are.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

You don’t have the awareness to argue.

Tomorrow. You’ll tell him tomorrow.

#post let luce #dcamv #bloodstain fool #menace4menace #my fic #headinhands. 1K in I was like “haha maybe thisll be another 4K long can you imagine”#then [REDACTED] happened #maybe not quite as lighthearted as the first one?#but nothing I'd warn for in particular #maybe with this out of my system i can focus back on building a nest fghdjs

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soupdots · 6 months

Text

Hey, I haven’t posted on here in a while, but! I read Azula in the Spirit Temple (finally) and I wanted to give my thoughts on it.

Overall rating, 7.5/10

Things I liked:

• These two panels:

I love how her humanity is shown in both of them. I don’t know if we’ve EVER seen Azula given the humanity shown in the second panel— fear, specifically trauma-motivated fear (and a traumatic experience not frequently discussed, her institutionalization). It’s significant because she’s showing fear without anger, which is rare for her. And I was blown away by the first panel. I didn’t expect them to be so explicit about it. It’s almost too explicit, but honestly, it’s needed (because people clearly don’t pick up on subtext). It made me very happy to see what we’ve all been saying stated outright and in canon. These two panels pushed the comic up from more of a 6/10.

• I liked the idea of spirits and avatars (no pun intended) of Azula’s past friends and family talking to her (This is something that’s planned for my fic, if I ever get that off the ground again). It allows Azula to directly confront what has been done to her and what she has done, which is important for a redemption arc. It also allows for some healing, because she’s able to talk to those who hurt her.

• Azula is not given a quick redemption arc in 80 pages. Thank god. While of course she deserves a redemption arc, a rushed Kuvira-style redemption arc would be awful.

• I like that, true to her classic hair symbolism, Azula has her hair down throughout her time in the temple but puts it back up when she goes back to meet her Fire Warriors.

• She looks like a child in most of the frames. It’s good.

• This may have been unintentional, but I like that it’s Zuko who yells at her about how she’s hurt everybody, she’s a monster etc; then he turns into something of a monster himself. This shows that Zuko has hurt her, that he’s not perfect.

• I think the writing in general was better than past comics (definitely better than Yang’s writing) and it bodes well for the future. I think, all things considered, Faith Hicks did a remarkable job with the barely salvageable remnants of Azula’s character.

Things I didn’t like:

• Azula is still hung up on her “rightful place on the throne!” She never showed any real desire for the throne in the show, and yet for some reason that has become a key piece of her identity. It really doesn’t make sense. Also, didn’t she drop that in S&S? She is still seeking to destabilize Zuko in AITST, but appears to also have regained the desire for the throne. It’s confusing and weird.

• I think Azula could’ve been shown being a little nicer to her ‘Fire Warriors,’ given that she doesn’t have the same pressure to keep them by her side as she did with Mai & Ty Lee, but it’s fair that she’s not. In S&S she’s a pretty terrible person and takes several steps back in her redemption arc (several extremely OOC steps), and while I want to forget the Yang comics ever existed, Hicks still has to adhere to them and that means not suddenly making Azula a lot more chill.

• It felt rushed, but of course it did, it’s 80 pages long. Still this did affect the satisfaction I got from it.

• Azula ought to have been more distressed when she found out that her friends left her given that that’s literally her biggest wound. However I also kind of like that she wasn’t, especially at the end, because it hints that she’s getting tired of the whole friendship through manipulation thing.

• I wish Azula had gotten to talk to the spirit in its monk form a little bit; we could’ve had an Iroh moment for her which would’ve been cool to see.

• In general Azula’s character has really been through the ringer so it’s hard to get anything good out of it, but again I’m impressed at what Hicks has been able to pull off. Still, it felt kind of unsatisfying that at the end of the comic Azula said that she would “find new followers, a new place to rule,” which is like, oh okay, so you kinda haven’t really learned anything? It would be nice to at least get a bit of an idea that she’s on a path towards redemption and healing.

Again, overall, 7.5/10, I really enjoyed this, honestly. There were some parts that made me roll my eyes but ultimately I was surprised at the amount of kindness given to Azula (not a lot, but more than usual). I’m thankful to Faith Erin Hicks & the rest of her team for doing the best they can with our girl. I hope this means she’ll get more good content in the future.

#atla #azula #avatar the last airbender #azula in the spirit temple

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artbyblastweave · 1 year

Note

I prompt you to elaborate on the idea of deliberately making something in a story boring, for I an always interested in your analysis.

In The Boys (Comic version, which I have complicated but more-positive-than-most feelings about) Garth Ennis very deliberately wrote most of the superhuman combat scenes as short, brutal affairs in which whoever was more powerful or better-equipped would just slaughter the other side in a matter of seconds; if the sides were more evenly matched it was then a matter of who swung first. To my memory, there were only a handful of fights blocked like fights instead of like curbstomps. This was in service to Ennis's artistic vision; violence as a swift, brutal thing, only glamourous in the sense of black-comedy dismemberments or the grim satisfaction of being alive when the other guy isn't, and with the majority of all conflicts playing out through via prep-work and intelligence-gathering done in advance of the first punch being thrown.

It was an aggressive refutation of how superhero fights go in more straightforward superhero fiction, with clever tricks, drawn-out dramatic brawls, violence as a palatable form of spectacle, something marketable after-the-fact. A lot of the fights the titular team got involved in consisted basically of jumping distracted supes; one of Homelander's jobs was to just unceremoniously decapitate any earnest upstart supervillain and then have the marketing team at Vought write a comic portraying the fight as something with genre-typical stakes. To this day, I feel like there was a level of honesty about violence in this portrayal. In real life, it's not fun!

But! It did introduce some problems. Namely, a series in which almost every single fight is something Nasty, Brutish and Short created, for me, a form of doublethink about how seriously we should even take the Vought capes as threats. A series in which every fight is deliberately uninteresting (if you aren't entertained by curbstomps) is a series in which every fight is deliberately uninteresting, and from there your enjoyment of the series rides or dies on how interesting you find the non-fight political intrigue, character dynamics, and so forth. The version of Garth Ennis who isn't writing capes is, in my opinion, pretty damn good at that other stuff, so I inched through.

The show patched the majority of my difficulties. It retained the broad thesis that cape fights would largely be curbstomps, and the other broad thesis that capes would largely be useless or counterproductive at their supposed role, but combined this with a number of actual fight scenes. It made Butchers team significantly less powerful, with a significantly greater focus on the sneaky bastardry necessary to flip assets and find weaknesses. It made killing any given supe much, much more of an endeavor, something genuinely very difficult and impressive, and it made every given supe death much more of a plot point or a character beat than it would have been in the comic. The supes being less interesting than typical for their genre, that was preserved- but the situations involving supes that we, the audience, are privy to? All very interesting still!

Now on the other side of the spectrum, you've got Worm, and you've got Jack Slash-as-an-examination-of-Joker. "Your philosophy is ill-considered and fake deep, and you aren't funny" is actually a fairly common clapback against The Joker within officially published DC comics properties, but it butts up against the fact that he's taken pretty seriously as a threat regardless of that fact! Jack Slash is an attempt to reconcile that, to figure out how someone as LOlrandom as Joker could last longer than three minutes as a serious contender, and the answer is "subtle secondary powers that puff up his win rate, in a way that his self-absorption prevents him from recognizing as anything but his own innate talent." He's blatantly shallow. Everyone talking to him is palpably rolling their eyes within the text, but he's got the brute-force necessary to undercut anyone trying to one-up him (Theo's interlude, Tattletale in the parking garage.) It's called out multiple times that's it's mysterious that he's doing so well when he's so mediocre. The candidate he picks for the 9 is a dud. He can't come up with anything more interesting for Cherish than having her do all the other tests over a second time. His big comeback is just Slaughterhouse 9! But More of them! Fuck Yeah!

But! Despite the text being aware of how shallow he is and how thin his ideas are, all of his ideas keep working. It doesn't matter that it's edgelord bullshit- it's edgelord bullshit that everyone else is forced to take seriously and respond to, which is where the actually-great character work in the S9 arc happens. And at this point I think there are basically two camps within the audience. Camp one consists of people who, despite Jacks clear shallowness, nonetheless are entertained and engrossed by the batshit combat scenarios he masterminds, even if he shouldn't be able to mastermind them. I am a counselor at Camp One. Camp Two consists of people who call bullshit on the ability for such a shallow guy to mastermind all that crap and bend everyone to his will, who don't really find anything redemptive in the eventual reveal that it was powers-enabled because they still had to sit through the implausible bullshit. This is a position I have no choice but to respect because it's the position of my cousin, who I adore and want to remain on good terms with at family gatherings. The things we do in service of family, amiright

#parahumans #worm #wildbow #the boys #garth ennis #asks #ask #meta #thoughts #the boys amazon prime #worm web serial #worm web novel #jack slash #media analysis #the boys comic #worm analysis #worm spoilers #the boys spoilers

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theweirderstuffblogdontlook · 6 months

Text

Got two fanfics below the readmore, and a closing comic strip at the end of the fanfic showing what happens afterwards. So make sure to at least scroll to the bottom!

Sitting at the bar, a gay bar mostly frequented by lesbians which they had visited without incident a few times prior, Caprica alternated between sipping a drink, looking at her phone, and keeping an eye on Bob. Bob being currently disguised as Barbra, her "girlfriend" and former truck driver from out of town who’s been recovering from a car accident at her house.

It seemed everything was going pretty well. Bob's done a good job not being too suspicious and not breaking character, so she's been exploiting the bar over the past couple of days to keep Bob busy, and give herself a break from having the undivided attention of her obsessive stalker.

Though the unfortunate (in her opinion) trade off of being in a public location, is that sometimes people other than Bob will also take the initiative to bother her.

Case in point, as a lady sat in a barstool beside her, gesturing to get her attention and get Caprica to lean in a bit closer.

Saying in a bit of a hushed tone

"Hey, sorry to bother ya honey, but I figured I'd ask you instead. But Barbara's a Trans woman right?"

Oh… guess they clocked Bob. Still, that's a lot better than assuming he's a notorious criminal hiding out in disguise.

She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly.

"Uhhhhh…. Yeah. She… uhhh, she'd rather not talk about it."

"Yeah I understand. Just figured I'd ask since we've got a support group coming up, in case she wants to participate. You can let her know just in case I don't get the chance to talk with her privately for a minute."

"No, it's probably best if I let her know myself, so she won't… uhhh… I'll let her know."

"Alright, just get back to me if Barb is interested or not. No pressure though if she isn comfortable bringing it up."

"Yeah, we'll let you know."

And she got up and left to go mingle, leaving Caprica alone with her thoughts.

Damn, she should probably get ahead of this before Bob does anything too suspicious.

Sometime later, she and Bob sat in the big truck that used to belong to her grandfather, getting ready to go home, though she got Bob to pause for a bit for a chat.

"So there might be something we should go over in regards to your Barbra disguise. So just in case someone asks, let's go over what transgender means, and a few other relevant terms you should know."

"Well alright. If ya think it'll help."

(One explanation later…..)

"Alright, now say it back to me. Someone asks if you're a Trans woman, what do you think that means?"

Bob, with a bit of excitement in his tone, replies

"It means I'm a lady who hasn't chopped off her dick yet!"

"...."

"You know what, we'll work on that."

And they head home.

Another day, another time, but the same place, Caprica and Bob (disguised as Barbra) are sitting together at a table at the lesbian bar, sharing a plate of nachos.

Though Caprica was more eating a small bowl of jalapeño rings that came with the nachos than the nachos themselves.

And Bob was more enjoying teasing and flirting with his grumpy unsociable girlfriend than snacking.

Until they are rudely interrupted.

Two men, acting tipsy either from alcohol or their own egotistical self satisfaction, sleased over, one of them leaning against the table beside Caprica while the other stood behind her.

"Hey cutie, how'd you like to get with a real man?"

"Yeah, we’d be happy to show what you’re missing, hanging out with a bunch of slutty rug munchers like these."

Without skipping a beat though, and more of reflex than anything, Caprica deadpanned,

"Dude, this is a gay bar…. For gays. Quit flirting with people like me and go suck each other's faces instead."

And reached to take a sip of her drink.

Before her eyes glance over, and notice Bob's hand balled into a tight fist, which shook slightly with rage.

Caprica choked on her drink

OH SHIT RIGHT BOB!!!!!

These guys just… Oh shit. Right in front of Bob.

Trying not to let the nerves show in her voice, she says

"Okay, you…. You guys need to leave…"

Obviously not successful in putting up a brave front.

And the guys just leaned in a bit closer. Pitching their voices a bit lower to make it harder for any lookie-loos to hear them over the background music.

"Awwww, but we just got here! And somebody's gotta set these dykes straight, might as well be a couple of good Samaritans like us."

"Yeah, we'd be happy to show you chick's what dick tastes like."

SHIT what can she do!! These guys are literally digging their own graves! Eyes widening further in fear she glances between the guys and the barely disguised ball of murderous rage that was Bob.

Probably the only things keeping these two guys alive right now, was one… Bob being a bit of a slow thinker, taking a minute to figure out how exactly he was gonna murder these two. And two, that she makes him leave his knives at home when they go out in disguise so he couldn’t impulse stab as easily.

She makes a snap decision.

Maybe if she can make a scene first, Bob won't get the opportunity to do something drastic and reveal his identity in public.

She turns to glare at the two men, raising her voice to draw more attention and maybe get someone else to intervene first before any blood gets spilled.

"I am literally here with my fucking girlfriend!"

She says gesturing at Bob.

"Now unless you two assholes want the only thing you're ever known for around town, is that you two are the kind of guys to hit on other people's girlfriends, you'd better walk out those doors and never let anyone here see your faces ever again!"

And good lord, the condescending smugness of these dudes was palpable.

"Hey now, no need to get all hysterical on us."

"Yeah, how are we supposed to know if it's your time of the month or not?"

And the two snicker dumbly, while Capricas eyes dart around.

Two of the women from the dance floor, who were regulars at the bar, seem to have gotten the hint that something was up and were heading this way.

Though the two guys then continued, clearly trying to cover their ass now that there was a risk of witnesses.

"Hey, if you… two aren't in an uhhhh… open relationship you coulda just let us know and not get all upset over nothing.

"Besides, with how gross, fat, and hairy your girlfriend is, maybe you don't need a guy after all!"

Their condescending laughter peters out with a squeak of Bob's chair as he stands. The two men's courage faltering for a moment as they see his stature dwarfing the both of theirs.

The two women who had been making their way over also pausing at the sight, the anger in Bob's posture being clear even from across the room.

Though he keeps his tone even, and thankfully doesn't drop the feminine affect in his voice (and thus his disguise). And with a slow, controlled movement, he takes off his sunglasses, folds them, and hangs them on the collar of his funny 'my other ride is your mom' novelty shirt.

He then leans over, resting one hand on the table, and staring down the men with his big crazy eyes and deranged grin.

"You boys know what happens when you try hitting on another man's girlfriend right in front of them?"

One of the men puts up his hands in a timid ‘alright, calm down’ sort of gesture. Trying to be sassy as he says, "Hey, no need to HURK!!"

Bob snatched the man by the throat, cutting him off and startling his friend, along with Caprica

"HEY HEY HEY!!!"

"BARB DON'T!!"

Caprica shot up from her seat, as Bob calmly made his way around the table, gaze hungrily fixed on the choking man clawing at Bob's hand, trying to break the grip around his neck.

Though he's knocked out of his focus as the assholes friend winds up a punch, and clocks Bob in the face with an accompanying shout of,

"LET GO OF HIM YOU BITCH!!!"

Bob staggers at the hit, then stills, and turns his attention to the other man. Who's angry expression falters with fear as Bob meets his gaze.

Caprica scrambles over, trying to get between Bob and the man, but he is able to move past her easily to punch the guy in the gut, and he crumples, wind knocked out of him.

As Caprica, in a hushed worried tone, pleaded,

"Barb, we're in public Barb, people are watching, Barb. You know the rules, don’t break character."

And Bob, appearing not to listen, grabbed the other man by the collar of his shirt as he wheezed and tried not to fall over. Bob not obliging this man's attempt to stay upright, kicking out one of his legs so he tumbled, and the only thing keeping his head from smacking on the ground, being the shirt collar Bob held. Letting the second man be pulled along like a struggling sack of flour, all while still pulling the first man along by the neck, and starting to walk. Caprica still panicking in a hushed tone as by now the attention of the whole bar was on them, and a number of bystanders got closer to get a better view of the action.

"Come on Barrrb, think about you're doing, if you hurt them we can't come back…."

Bob started dragging the two men towards the front door of the bar, wide manic grin still on his face with each heavy step, and Caprica following along beside him, frantically whispering.

"They'll come and find us at the house, they might figure things out before we even get a real chance to run. Don't do this."

Bob kicks the door open, dragging the two struggling men out with him, letting one of the guys get smacked on the doorframe on the way out, and letting the door swing shut behind him.

Leaving Caprica looking nervously across the audience of mostly lesbians, many of whom were now chatting amongst themselves conspiratorially.

Caprica being too stressed to get a read on how the audience might be feeling about the whole affair and if they’ve turned against her and Bob or not.

But she does take a moment to consider since there weren't any windows to look out of, either on the door or the adjacent wall, maybe if she just stood here she could keep people from going out and witnessing Bob ripping them apart and calling the cops and escalating the whole thing and everyone finding out about Bob and Bob grabbing her before she can run and him getting taken to prison while she’s still stuck inside him and…

There's entirely too many people looking at her, so she goes out the door in a hurry.

She finds Bob standing there calmly, hands in his pockets, looking out across the street. His eyes glance down at her when she asks

"Where are the!!!!"

But she's interrupted as Bob gestures slightly with his head in the direction he'd been looking before, and Caprica can see the two men shambling off, one supporting the other with their arm across his shoulders to keep them steady.

Caprica lets out a huge wheezy breath, bracing against Bob with one hand as she doubles over and says,

"Oh thank fuck."

And Bob looks at her with a sly cheeky grin.

She takes a few more deep breaths to try and steady herself, Bob saying a teasing

"Y'all right there sweetiepie?"

"I'm just…. Wheeze, shit Bob…. Just…"

"Spooked ya good didn't I?"

She glares at him.

"Don't you go acting like some bastion of self control now you fucking asshole. I know you were barely an inch from ruining everything."

"Yeah, but it's still fun to watch you get mad about it."

Caprica presses her face into her hands and lets out a long annoyed tone to try and get the stress out,

"HHHHHRRRRRrrrrgggggg…. Come on…. We still gotta go back in there and sort this out. You're stable enough right?"

Bob chuckles in response.

And Caprica stands up straight with a clap of her hands and says

"WHELP! Alright it's settled! Let's just leave and never come back, and never speak of this again!"

Bob leans in, wrapping an arm around Caprica's shoulders tenderly and nuzzling against the top of her head while saying apologetically.

"Awww darlin, come on, you'll be okay, they ain't gonna…"

Bob's interrupted as the door beside them opens, it's the bouncer, who was looking thoroughly apologetic, along with someone who normally is working the bar, but from the more authoritative tone, they were probably a more managerial type on top of pouring drinks.

"Are you two alright? From the sound of it, one of them tried to grab Caprica and the other ended up punching you when you tried to stop them."

It not being lost on Bob that the events were already getting spun to make him and Caprica look more innocent and non-confrontational than they had been. Clearly, the community was gonna be much more invested in looking after their own than being sympathetic to a couple of assholes. And Bob was happy to lean into that impulse of theirs. After all, he quite liked it here too, even if it meant agreeing to expand his ‘dont eat the neighbors, that’s too suspicious’ compromise with Caprica to include ‘don’t eat anyone who’s clearly a lesbian. It is not a large community and word travels fast and it’ll be too suspicious’. Taking on a warm tone and shifting back into his feminine Barbra affect, he stands back to his full height, though keeping an arm around Caprica, and responds,

"Yeah, we're alright. Don't-chu worry."

"How about the two men?"

"I gave 'em an earful and let 'em limp off with their tail between their legs. Hopefully we won't be dealin with those two again any time soon."

The manager seems relieved, taking up a bit more confident, even somewhat protective tone as she responds,

"Alright, if they show up again and start getting butthurt about things and trying to twist everything around, we've got a bar full of witnesses to let the authorities know how big of a creep those guys were. And of course, it should go without saying that those guys are banned for life."

The bouncer holds open the door for them, the manager trying to usher them both inside.

"Come on, I'll give you both a free drink, or maybe something to eat to help ya calm down, or heck, both if you want. And let's get you an ice pack for that bruise Barbra."

Though with Caprica being obviously the more nervous of the two, the bulk of the fretting quickly turned to her, giving Bob a moment to fidget with what he had in his pocket.

The source of why Bob was able to do an emotional 180 so quickly, and turn so calm and confident after the insults and the jealous, possessive rage.

Taking them out covertly for a moment to examine.

Two leather wallets. And flipping open the top one, a drivers license can be clearly seen in the transparent pouch, belonging to the man he had threatened to strangle to death.

A drivers license and thus, a name, and an address.

Bob's grin widened with sinister glee, before he stowed the mens wallets away, and followed the group inside.

Then, the following night...

#bob velseb #spooky month #fanfic #comic #art #spooky month bob #inner demon #au

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thatgoblin · 7 months

Text

New Witch in Town Part 1

Summary: Things were going great till you received a promotion at work. Then everything went downhill. Your long-term boyfriend cheates on you, your job had to close down for a week, and you have to look for a new place while sleeping on your Ex's couch and listening to him boink his new girlfriend. At least you didn't have to sleep on his (your) couch too long. You didn't look too close at the house, where it was, or how you'd get there, but you'd have four new roommates that were gone a lot for work. It couldn't get any worse, could it? Right?

Warnings: cheating (not by our heroes, narcissistic ex, not really anything big happens this part. Will update with more as they come.

Moving sucks. I have always been of that opinion and are still. Especially since I was looking for a place after my boyfriend of 5 years and I split. I thought marriage was on the horizon, especially with my promotion at work and with how things were going so smoothly, but instead he wanted to get to know the yoga instructor that had moved in across the street. It was almost comical to think that I made up every excuse in the book for him when my friends and family all called him out on being narcissistic and manipulative, but the moment I saw my new neighbor in the downward dog in MY bed with my boyfriend one afternoon, that was it. The satisfaction of kicking him out would have helped me heal, but I had been the one that moved in with him and so I was the one that had to find a new place.

After looking for a week while sleeping on the couch, I thought I got a break. A large six bedroom house with a finished basement, a garden in the backyard, and four roommates in need of a fifth as they worked a lot and wanted someone home to take care of it when they had to leave for work. It seemed too good to be true. I knew it was four men living there as well, but that didn’t deter me. In fact I thought it was perfect. Roommates meant no feelings. I thought that when they were home they would be too busy going out and seeing girls or guys or whoever to even bother trying to sleep with me or date me. The last thing I wanted or needed (mostly needed) was to have a rebound or get in a relationship with a roommate.

Sending a message to the person who posted the ad in the paper, I arranged to get moved in quickly. There was no talk of rent or contracts or anything other than my move in date. It should have been a red flag, but I was desperate enough to get out of my Ex’s place that I didn’t think twice. Getting a moving van and packing up all my things, which was actually not that much since I wanted to just get out of there, I was quick to leave. The new place was gorgeous and I instantly fell in love with it when I pulled up. Yes, I also had not seen the place. My judgment was clouded because I needed to leave my Ex’s place quickly or end up in jail for murder.

Parked, I hopped out to knock on the door. Before I could rap my knuckles on the massive, dark stained door set, one opened to reveal a built man with a mohawk. We stared at each other for a moment, caught off guard by the timing before I shook myself. “Hi, I’m the new roommate,” I said, smiling as I held out my hand.

“Hello,” the man said, smiling back as he shook my hand. He was incredibly warm, literally. It felt like I was shaking hands with a heating pad on full power. “I’m Johnny, but everyone calls me Soap,” he said, pulling me in for a quick, bone crushing hug.

“Nice to meet you,” I grunted before he let go.

“Here, let’s get you moved in, yeah?” He said, walking over to the moving van.

“Here, I’ve got the key for the lock,” I said, digging it out of my purse. But Soap already had the back open with a small grunt and a quick lift of his arm. I was pretty sure I had locked it, but he was already in there and moving things to bring in.

“Hi, you must be the new Roommate, I’m Kyle,” a voice said, catching my attention from Johnny, who had started to unload what looked like four large boxes at a time.

“Yeah, that’s me,” I said, turning to look at him and smile. The man was leaning against the doorframe, his hands in his pockets. His eyes scanned over my body as I stood there in worn out clothes I didn’t mind ruining. A brow raised as we locked eyes, followed by a smile. The scent of rain in the forest floated from him to envelop me and coax me closer. Stepping towards him, I looked to the sky to see the gray clouds getting dark and moving faster. “It looks like it might rain, so if you can help unload-”

“Almost done!” Johnny called as he suddenly ran out of the house. Wait, when did he get inside? Also, why was he saying he was almost done?

“Johnny is enthusiastic about moving as well as helping people, eating, sticks, chasing cars-”

“No! You said you’d stop that joke!” Johnny yelled, stopping Kyle as he walked by with the last of my stuff.

“Wow, that was fast. Are you sure you got everything?” I asked, moving to look at the back of the van. “Holy crap, you just moved like twenty boxes from my van to the house in just a few minutes? What?” I must have been really distracted or Johnny was really strong and fast. Maybe both.

“So, a few things to go over,” Kyle said, putting an arm around my shoulders to guide me away as Johnny shut the back of the van. “Rent is due on the first of the month, so Price likes to have it at least a week before then. No parties, if you want friends over, make sure it’s when we’re not home, don’t go into our rooms, and don’t go into the basement.”

“Okay, your rooms I get, but the basement?” I asked, frowning as we stepped inside. The house was gorgeous, Victorian style with dark colors. It made me think of a less gothic Addams family home. The first floor was open with hardwood floors and gorgeous crown moldings in black, but the furniture didn’t match. It looked very worn and used, almost as if it was all on its last leg, and all the curtains were drawn everywhere. There was no sunlight to be seen, but that didn’t mean that the room was dark. There were lamps and overhead lights that lit up the place, making it easy to see around in the warm lighting.

“So, the basement is storage and with how Price likes his order, it’s best to just stay out of it so you don’t accidentally touch something he might pitch a fit over,” Kyle said, keeping us moving to the stairs. The same dark wood carried us up a story as he kept a firm hold on me to keep me from wandering. Which was odd given I was living there and I would need to know where things were. “Here are our rooms. The one at the very end is Price’s, mine is right here, next to yours and on the other side is Simon’s and Johnny’s.” Each door was painted black and had an emblem engraved. Johnny’s had a crescent moon, Simon’s had an Ankh, Kyle’s had a star with seven points, Price’s had a ram’s skull with big horns, and mine. . .

“So, since I live here now, can I carve something fun into my door?” I asked, looking at the blank space and trying to think of something cool to put there. Everyone else had one and I wanted one too.

“That is not up to me,” Kyle said, brushing it off. “Now, if you want to, you can meet Simon and Price. We actually leave in the morning for work and will be gone for a few weeks because of work.”

“Okay,” I said, following him without a second thought. “So, what do you guys do for work?” I asked, following him like a happy puppy with no fear in their heart.

“We’re in the military and go on work trips a lot. We figured that if we had someone here, then at least we would be less likely to be burgled or gone up in flames.”

“Well, I am pretty hyper aware of my surroundings when I’m alone and constantly check candles even if I’ve never lit any, so it should be good,” I said as he showed me back down the stairs to the living room where three men were waiting. One was Johnny who was nudging a man in a skull mask and giggling, the man in said skull mask who looked like a teen who found Hot Topic and bought every skeleton piece of clothing they had as well as eyeliner that was messily applied and smeared, and a man who looked like he knew the most and had the most authority of the group. Dressed in a long sleeve shirt and cargo pants, similar to Kyle’s, he also had trimmed mutton chops and mustache as a cigar burning between his thumb and forefinger. “Hi!” I said, waving with a grin and trying to put as much friendliness into my voice as possible.

“Right,” Kyle said, turning away before gesturing to me. “This is our new roommate. I gave all the rules and such as well as letting her know we’ll be gone soon.”

“Kyle said you guys were in the military and would be gone, so no worries on anything. I already promised no parties and no snooping,” I said, rocking on my feet as I put my hands on my hips. “So, who are these guys?” I asked Kyle, pointing to Skull man and Cigar man.

“I’m John Price,” the man with the cigar said as he stood up. A plume of smoke billowed out from his nostrils, his blue eyes were bright to the point I swear they were glowing. “Pleasure to meet you. We’ll be out of your hair in the early morning.” He held out his hand for me to shake with a soft smile. I probably came on a bit strong, but that was okay. Grabbing his hand, I shook it firmly. He, like Johnny, was incredibly warm to the touch, but there was something else. Like an electricity to him that had my hand twitching to grip his hand harder.

“That’s Simon,” Kyle said, pointing to the other man who waved from the sofa as Johnny poked at his face.

“Hi!” I said, marching over to take his hand that was not offered in any way to shake it. He tensed when I touched him, going still and flexing so I couldn’t actually move our hands. “Oh wow, strong,” I said, giggling nervously before letting go. “Well, I guess this is it. Thanks for the bed and furniture by the way. I didn’t really have anything when I moved out of my last place.”

“Furniture?” Price asked, raising a brow at me. “I thought you were bringing everything.”

“There’s not a bed?” I asked, suddenly feeling my mood take a dip. “I thought I saw in the ad that there was a fully furnished room.”

“No, I didn’t put that,” Kyle said, shaking his head.

“Right, sorry, that was probably something else. It’s okay. I can just sleep on the floor,” I said, forcing a smile to smooth things over. I needed this place even if I didn’t have a bed yet and I didn’t want to upset my new housemates.

“Don’t be daft,” Kyle snorted. “You can have the sofa.”

Better than the floor.

“I’ll be real quiet, I promise,” I said as John sighed and Ghost chuckled.

“No, no. We probably have something for you to use so you’re not on the sofa,” Price said.

“She can share my bed!” Johnny chimed in. My eyes went wide as Kyle groaned and Simon slapped the man on the back of the head. “What!? Nothing weird! Besides, I have the most normal room and it’s really fucking comfy.”

“Then you’ll have no problem taking the sofa for the night while our new friend takes your bed,” John said, smirking at him. Johnny began to protest when Simon covered his mouth.

“You can sleep in my room, Soap,” the man said, his voice gruff and low. “There, we’re situated.”

“I’ll show you where everything is,” Johnny said as he got up. I followed him, feeling an unfamiliar heat drop in my belly when I passed John. I glanced back to see him tip his head with a wink before I was led upstairs. Shaking myself to keep from thinking about it too much, I watched as Johnny opened the door with the crescent moon to let us in. While in my mind I had built it up to be this amazing, whimsical thing, it was very much a regular bedroom.

The boxspring and mattress were on the floor with fluffy pillows and blankets and sheets that were twisted into a nest of sorts in the middle of it while a dresser sat off to the side with knick knacks on it. The walls were a warm creamy color with posters of movies and football teams, as well as a few framed pictures of what looked like family. A writing desk was on the corner, holding a PC and two monitors as well as a small rack of gaming controls. A headset hung on one of the monitors while an en suite bathroom already had the light on. It had a toilet, a sink, and an old clawed bathtub that held a shower head. I was starting to wish I had checked my room to see my tub situation.

“Feel free to use the room while we’re gone till you get your bed in. Price has a bunch of stuff in the basement he’ll probably lend you when we get back, but I know a bed isn’t down there,” Johnny chuckled. “Shower works like a shower and hot water is plenty. All I ask is that you clean up and don’t leave things lying around.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate this. I swore that I saw there was furniture listed on the ad, but my head’s been so muddled lately that I probably combined two posts into one,” I said with a chuckle. “Oh well, at least there’s a back up plan. I promise I’ll make sure nothing gets messed up while you’re gone and it’ll be spick and span when you guys get home.”

“You’re not our house maid, just clean up after yourself,” Johnny snickered, ruffling my hair. It was an odd feeling, something someone would do with a person they were familiar with and while I had only met Johnny that day, I was pretty sure he would become a very important person in my life. All four of them really.

“Thanks,” I said, smiling. The rest of the evening was calm, everyone gathering for dinner at the big dining table by the kitchen. Kyle ordered take out from a local Chinese place for everyone so dishes weren’t needed. Simon skipped dinner, opting to watch a footie game that was on. Conversation was good, they learned more about me, that I was a librarian at a local college and was on vacation that week because renovations were being done, that I liked animals, and as Kyle put it, always seemed to be a ray of sunshine.

“Simon doesn’t like the sun,” Kyle teased. “He’d melt like the Wicked Witch if he went outside during the day.”

“Shut it,” Simon growled, flipping him off from the living room as we ate at the table.

“Behave. I don’t want to sit on the plane tomorrow with you two bickering like children,” John said with a grumble.

“So where are you guys going?” I asked, getting more noodles on my plate.

“Classified,” Johnny said between mouthfuls of food.

“Well, do you know what you’ll be doing?”

“Classified,” Kyle said, snatching the last egg roll.

“Okay, do you know if-”

“Sorry, Love, classified,” John said, giving me an apologetic smile. At least he was nice about it.

“Alright, well, I hope it goes smoothly and quickly and safely,” I said. “Whatever it is you do.”

Despite trying to help, I wasn’t allowed to clean up after dinner. None of them would let me. Each of us went to our rooms after a quick ‘good night’ and it was starting to feel like home. Even if I wasn’t in my own room, I was in a clean bed (that had the very distinct smell of a dog despite there not being any evidence of the animal being there) with comfortable pillows and blankets, making it better than when I was at my Ex’s on the couch. In bed with my eyes closed, I found that I couldn’t fall asleep. I’d be on the cusp and then my body would jolt me awake as if some unseen threat had nearly grabbed me. The whole night was like that. It was when the guys left that I finally passed out from exhaustion. I had no idea what it was or why it was happening, but I at least was on vacation.

There was no return date for them that I was given, so I tried to keep busy with getting things I needed. Like the bed. It was hard to pick one and each salesperson I worked with seemed just as pushy as the last one. If I didn’t say no to all of them, then I would end up with ten beds. At least Johnny said I could use his. By the end of the week, I was finding myself feeling worse than when I was at my Ex’s on the couch. I was lonely and tired and emotional and just wanted someone to hug me and pet my head. Neither of those things were going to happen, so I tried to march on. At the mattress store, trying one last time, I was laying on a rather comfortable one when I heard a familiar voice.

Sitting up, I saw my Ex with the girl he left me for. They were hugging and touching foreheads and smiling while picking out furniture. He and I were supposed to renovate a room to make it into a library, but there he was with someone else and I was bedless. Worse, I didn’t have anything I wanted. I had unpacked my clothes into a closet, but all my pictures and decorations and bigger stuff were still at his place and I couldn’t bring myself to ask for them back. The tidal wave of emotions hit me, making me apologize as I speed walked out of the store before he could see me.

Back home, I changed into comfortable clothes and grabbed cold pizza to eat before turning on Titanic in the living room. I needed to cry and get it out before I turned into a hysterical nut job over a mattress. There I stayed for the weekend, crying over 1998 Leo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet because while their love was brief, it was intense and lasting despite the years of separation. That was how the others found me Monday afternoon. I was given a half day as a water pipe burst, kicking me out of my building again, so back to Titanic with tears and pasta.

“I’m flying, Jack. I’m flying,” I ugly sobbed as I held my arms out with Kate and Leo. The others were damn near silent as they stood by and watched my misery.

“Should we do something, Cap?” Kyle asked. They were in ear shot, but I ignored them as I ‘doo doo doo’d along to the score.

“I don’t know if we can,” John said.

“I’ll talk to her,” Johnny said, dropping his bag before coming over to me. “Hey there, what’re you watching, hen?” He asked, his voice soft and gentle as if he were speaking to a scared animal.

“Titanic,” I whimpered.

“How many times have you watched it?”

“It’s almost four hours long because it’s the extended edition,” I said. “I’ve had it on repeat since Friday.” Johnny was quiet, looking at me wide eyed before looking back to the group. That was clearly too many times.

“How about we turn this off for a bit, yeah?” John said, coming over to pick up the remote.

“No, don't touch it!” I shrieked, grabbing the remote from him. John jumped back like a wild animal snapped their jaws at him. “I’ve had a bad week and I'm still out of work because the building is old and hasn’t been kept properly for so long and they’re finding more things to fix. . .”

“You’re sad about work?” Kyle asked, coming closer, putting his arm around me. His rainy, earthy scent swirled around me, calming my tense muscles. John shot him a dirty look, but didn’t say anything.

“Not really. I mean, I haven’t taken a vacation in nearly 6 years because I love it. So a break is nice, but I tried to go mattress shopping this week and I felt weird every time I tried one and the last store I was at had my ex-boyfriend, Dirk, with his new girlfriend buying a writing desk,” I said, getting choked up. “We were making a library in our house and that was the last piece. Then I caught him in bed with his new girlfriend and now I’m just a loser in a big, empty house with no mattress who watched Titanic over 15 times!”

“It’s okay. We all go through bouts of bad luck,” Kyle said, rubbing my arms.

“But this isn’t bad luck!” I cried, pulling away to look at them. “I’m cursed! It has to be it! I was with Dirk for nearly 5 years and we didn’t canoodle once! We were planning on starting a radish farm in the countryside and raise sheep as a side project! Then right after I got my promotion, my boss gave me a whole gift basket of knick knacks, because she knows I love knick knacks, the same day I came home to find Dirk in bed with our neighbor! Then I had to sleep on the couch and listen to them boink till I moved in here, leaving behind so much stuff because I just wanted out of there, and then he finishes our projects with HER!? That’s being cursed.”

“How much stuff?” Simon asked, breaking the awkward/stunned silence.

“Like, I sold a lot when I moved in, but the bigger stuff was mine. The TV, the sectional, the bar cart, all the plants-”

“Suffice to say, you still have a lot over there, yeah?” John said, cutting me off. I nodded with a sigh, wiping my face with the sleeve of my fuzzy bathrobe that probably needed to be washed. I hadn’t showered or changed all weekend, having doused myself in deodorant and dry shampoo to make it through the day only to have it backfire when the pipe burst and drenched my clothes. So back into depression pants it was.

“Right then, looks like we have a mission, boys,” John said. “Gaz, get us a decent sized moving truck, Soap and Ghost, move all our shite out and clear the areas.”

“What about me?” I asked, looking at him with big eyes, full of confusion.

“You have the most important job of all, Love,” he said, resting a hand on my shoulder. Warmth bloomed in my chest as he looked at me with a soft smile. “Go take a shower.”

Well then.

“Are we not going to touch that she said ‘boink’ and ‘canoodle’?” Simon asked.

~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~

After a shower, with Soap coming in to make sure I didn’t still smell sad several times, I was deemed fit to join the mission of getting my stuff back. Kyle had found a moving truck easily with the day going late, so he and Simon rode together while John, Soap, and I rode in Soap’s jeep. “Is this the place?” Soap asked as we pulled up in front of the cottage like home that used to be mine.

“Yeah,” I said with a soft whine. “I mean, maybe we should come back tomorrow. He might not be home and I don’t want to walk in on him and her doing the horizontal tango again.”

“Listen,” John said, turning in the front seat to look at me. “You can’t just ignore things and let people walk all over you. You need to stand up to him and take back what’s yours. It isn’t right that he keeps so much while you just accept the bare minimum. Especially if it was yours to begin with.”

“It’s okay to take up space and speak up to keep that space,” Soap said, turning to look at me as well. “You’ve got back up in this, too. We won’t let him walk over you.”

“Really?” I asked, looking at them.

“Really,” Soap said with a nod.

“Okay, let’s do this,” I said, letting out a big breath. Stepping out of the jeep, I led the two men to the front door. Knocking quietly, I waited only a second before turning around. “Okay, he’s not home, let’s go.”

“No, you are going to stand your ground, Lass,” Soap said, catching me before I could even walk away. “You’ve got this.”

“And we’ve got you,” John said with a firm nod.

After nodding and taking another deep breath, I turned back around to knock louder on the door.

“Maybe a bit more ‘umph’ if ya could,” Soap said. Raising my hand, I slammed it down on the door as hard as I could three times. “Jesus, taking the door off its hinges,” he snickered.

It did the trick though, Dirk opened the door with a very bewildered look on his face to see me and two men of different heights, but equally big muscles. Dirk himself was tall, almost 6’7”, and had shoulder length brown hair that he kept up in a bun. He had recently shaved off the beard he’d been growing since we started dating as well, giving his once round face a more sharp angle.

“Peaches?” He said, looking at me. “What are you doing here?”

“I want my stuff back, Dirk,” I said, but my tone made it a request rather than a statement. “All of it.”

“What do you mean? You took all your stuff with you,” he said. In true Dirk fashion, he was trying to gaslight me and the others. I knew that most of the stuff in the house was mine and so did he, but he had made sure everyone knew it was ‘ours’ when they came to visit.

“No, I still have stuff here. My pictures, my decorations, my sectional and tv and appliances-”

“Look, I know you think you need that stuff, but you don’t. You’re good without it. Otherwise you would have taken it with you from the start,” Dirk said, giving me a soft smile. One that used to make me melt as he pulled so much nonsense right in front of me.

“Or, she didn’t have help to move it, so that’s why we’re here,” Soap said. “So, if you’d let us in to grab her stuff and go, that would be grand.”

“Whoa, whoa. I can’t just let you in here to take what you want,” Dirk said, holding up his hands. “I’ve got my stuff too and for all I know she could say it’s hers when it’s not. Obviously you’d believe her over me, so I can’t risk that. Look, Peaches, you can come back without these guys and I’ll help you get your stuff tomorrow, okay? I’m kind of busy and can’t stop what I’m doing.”

“Dirk, what’s going on?” A voice called. Walking out from the old office, the yoga teacher looked confused. She was in leggings and a sports bra, covered in paint.

“Nothing, Darling, go back to painting,” Dirk said with a dismissive chuckle. “So, how about after 3PM, hmm?”

Seeing the Yoga Teacher in her outfit, covered in pea green paint, and knowing she was painting over the Italian Vista Yellow of the Library that I had done triggered me. Dirk had clearly replaced me with ease and he was replacing everything I had done without a second thought.

“Dirk, give me back my stuff,” I snapped, looking up at him with a fury.

“Look, Peaches-”

“Shut up! I’m taking my stuff back and if you try to stop me I will bite you!” I growled. “Now move your stupid lanky, Jack Skellington body before I make good on my promise.”

“Whoa! Pe-”

“Stop calling me Peaches! That’s not my name and I don’t even like the fruit that much!” I snapped, pushing him aside. “Come on in guys. I don’t want to stay too long and get the smell of lies on everything.”

“I don’t know about that, but okay,” Soap snorted as he and John came in. Everytime Dirk tried to interrupt, I’d snap at him about how I kept all the receipts for everything big I bought and I did indeed own it. Yoga Teacher had left promptly, telling Dirk she’d be back later. Simon and Kyle were quick to help as well, Dirk giving Simon a weird look after telling him to go ahead and come in. Simon had cracked his neck and while I couldn’t see it behind his mask, I could tell he had a wide grin underneath.

It took maybe an hour to get everything from the sofa to the tv to the dining room table and all my small stuff. Once it was packed up, Dirk stood at the threshold of his home with his arms crossed while glaring at me. Soap just flipped him off while blowing a raspberry as we drove home.

Unloading was just as easy, the guys carrying everything inside quickly without even breaking a sweat. I knew active military people kept fit, but this was even a feat for them.

“Looks good,” Kyle said, seeing how everything seemed to magically match the house. Gone were the torn and taped furniture and in was the almost new items that really spruced up the home.

“Thanks,” I said, looking at them. “All of you for everything. I thought that I would be miserable for a much longer time than I was.”

“You’re welcome,” Soap said, ruffling my hair again. I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped at the display of affection. It felt nice.

“One problem,” Simon said from the sofa, having turned on the TV. “You still don’t have a bed.”

“Damn it.”

~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~

“Are you sure you’re okay with sharing your bed with me?” I asked John after grabbing some of my own blankets.

“Of course,” he said, opening the door to his room. Like Soap’s, it was clean and orderly. Everything in its place. He had bookshelves full of paperbacks and hardbacks that lined one wall, a desk that looked like it belonged to a lord or duke that was huge and had intricate carvings on it, and his bed was huge. I figured it would be a queen like Soaps, but it was a king with the softest, silkiest sheets I’d ever felt. The blankets were light and the pillows fluffy. It was going to be a dream come true to sleep there. “Make yourself comfortable on the bed. I’m going to take a quick shower then join you,” he said, giving me a smile before disappearing into his bathroom.

Soap wanted his own bed and while I would have been fine sharing with him, the look Simon gave me was warning enough. Kyle made an excuse that he was cleaning his room and didn’t want guests over, so that left me with Price. I didn’t mind so long as he didn’t. Pulling back the covers of his bed, I made a small nest to give us a barrier of sorts. It felt polite to designate our spaces given we barely knew each other.

Comfortable and laying in bed, I closed my eyes as the sounds of John’s shower lulled me to sleep. But like last time I tried to sleep when the boys were home, I jerked awake like I was either going to be grabbed or about to fall. Sucking in a breath through my nose, I looked around to find it had only been about 10 minutes since I laid down. John was coming out of the bathroom in just a towel to see me sitting in bed, looking around in a slight panic.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, coming over to my side of the bed.

“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. “I was asleep and then I just. . . I don’t know. I woke up suddenly. . .”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, sitting next to me. Looking at him, it didn’t even occur to me that he had just a towel on. I was distracted. His body was built and toned, but nothing like a body builder. Short curls covered his chest and trailed down his belly, his legs and arms having a generous amount as well. While I got that with a glance, it was two large, dark scars that ran down either side of his spine from the middle of his shoulders to the middle of his back that drew my attention.

“Had surgery on my back,” he said, pulling my attention from the marks. “I fell out of a helicopter about 5 years ago and broke my back as well as my pelvis. It took nearly 15 hours of surgery to put me back together after getting med-evaced out of there.”

“Wow,” I said softly, worrying my blankets between my fingers. “It doesn’t hurt at all now?”

“No, not really. I forget they’re there since I never see them,” he said with a soft chuckle. “There’s much smaller ones too, we all have them.”

“Is that why Simon wears a mask?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, nodding. “Poor guy would get more stares if he didn’t wear it and he hates attention as is.”

“I’m sorry you were put in a position to get them. I know it’s naive and childish, but if only we could all get along,” I said.

“The world would be much better off,” he nodded. “I’m really proud of you today. That took a lot of guts. From just the small interaction we had with that prick, I understand why you wouldn’t want to confront him.”

“Thanks,” I said, chuckling. “I had help, but I’m glad I did it too. Not sure what I would have done without you guys.”

“Still be watching Titanic, I’d say,” John snorted. Scoffing, I nudged him with my foot as I rolled my eyes.

“It’s a good movie and pretty stinkin’ accurate,” I said.

“Eh, it has its moments. I don’t remember the third class passengers being locked behind doors, but Guggenheim was pretty spot on,” John said, holding my foot to absentmindedly rub it.

“You think? I mean, no one can say for sure about the doors or Guggenheim, but they tried to stay true to it and made it a lot more. . . Real, ya know?” I said, relaxing as he worked his way up my ankle with warm fingers pushing and working my tired muscles.

“No one ever thought it had really split besides a few of the survivors that said so, but then again, who listens to us?” He said.

“‘Us?’ Look, I know you’re in your late 30’s but you’re nowhere near old enough to have been on the Titanic. My great-grandmother, maybe, but you’re not even regular old,” I said. “You’re barely middle-aged. Then again, I heard we’re getting quarter life crises now.”

“Thank you,” John laughed. “For not calling me old. But you don’t know. I could be an immortal demon that just likes to spend time with humans because they’re so fascinating.”

“Well, you’re an especially nice demon, if I say so myself,” I said, smiling as he switched feet.

“Don’t tell the others, they’ll start using it against me,” he said with a wink.

“Oh, I think they know already,” I giggled.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. They know how to twist my arm to get what they want,” he said. “Okay, lay on your front.” Setting my leg down, he patted my thigh to encourage me to listen. I didn’t ask or bother trying to. Doing as I was told, I moved to lay on my belly with a pillow tucked under my head with my arms curled around it.

John moved, straddling my rear before pushing my sleep shirt up. Before I could protest, his fingers were digging and rubbing into my tense back. My words died on my lips as a moan came out instead.

“Looks like I found the right spot,” John hummed as he kept working that spot, earning more noises between whines and hisses and grunts till the knot was gone and he moved on to the next. It felt amazing and painful as he worked my body into submission. By the time he was done, I was goo beneath him.

“That felt good,” I mumbled into the pillow, feeling like I was in no way going to be able to move. John must have known his powers as he moved me over a bit and tucked me in. He left me for a few moments before coming back in pajama pants and a tee. “Were you just naked on top of me?” I asked.

“Is that a problem?” He asked, climbing into bed next to me.

“No, just an observation,” I said, finally falling asleep and staying asleep.

Instead of jerking awake, I had dreams filled with debauchery that would make Benjamin Franklin blush. All of it was with John, too, which made waking up to find a mess of arousal in my pants all the more embarrassing. John was already up and out of bed by the time I was sitting up, luckily, so I went ahead to shower then get breakfast. By the time I came back with a coffee and bagel, John was busy in my room.

He had found a bed frame in the basement that he said was perfect for me. It was a canopy bed made from wood with a dark finish and gauzy lavender curtains.

“I didn’t even know that I had this,” he said, showing me after setting it up. “It’s a king size, but I’m sure you’ll appreciate the space.” John had also pulled up a matching dresser and side tables as well. “It doesn’t go with the paint job, but you could do that in your own time.”

“It’s wonderful, thank you,” I said, turning to hug him tightly. He tensed for a moment before relaxing. That heat I had felt before came back, settling heavily as he held me.

“You’re welcome,” he said softly into my hair. Pulling away, feeling drawn to him still, I had to look away or I’d stay there longer. Soap and Kyle were waiting on me and I couldn’t put it off any longer. “You better go before they start hunting for you. I’ll unpack these few boxes for you and set them on your dresser and nightstand for you to place where you want later.”

“Thanks, again, John,” I said with a nod. “I really do appreciate this.” He turned to give me a smile before waving. Waving back slightly, I hurried down the stairs to where the two men were waiting on me.

“Someone looks flushed,” Kyle purred with a smirk.

“What? No, I just ran down stairs, shut up weirdo, let’s go get me a mattress,” I said, waving him off before walking outside. Were my cheeks red? I didn’t think there was much to it. It was just a HUG for crying out loud. I didn’t need or want to like my roommates like that. Eugh.

“So what size of mattress do you need for your new bed frame?” Soap asked as he drove.

“John said it was a king size,” I said, looking at my bank account. Which did not look good. I was paid for the first week off, but the second week was going to be paid as if I worked half days. “Which I’m now regretting that I said yes to. I was ready to buy a full size mattress. It’s just me in it so it didn’t need to be big. Heck, I was going to go for a twin.”

“You are not getting a twin bed,” Kyle said. “They are for children and grannies, of which you are neither. A full size is okay under circumstance, but you need at least a queen bed. Also, because Price put together the bed frame already, you have to get a king size. He won’t take it down and won’t let any of us touch it.”

“I know, I feel bad, but a king size is going to be over a thousand pounds and I don’t have that kind of money,” I said with a sigh. I hated letting people know that I didn’t have much. It felt weird and embarrassing.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll buy it for you,” Soap said.

“Wait, what? No, you can’t. I won’t let you?” I said, confused because he was so calm about it.

“Think of it as payment for your stuff replacing our old stuff,” Soap said with a shrug. That made sense. Pulling into the parking lot, it wasn’t long before we were looking at a sea of mattresses and all of them looked the same.

“Okay, so where should we start?” Kyle asked. I sighed and shrugged, but then Soap took the lead. Pulling me over by the arm, he picked me up like a doll and tossed me onto the bed as I yelped. “Not what I meant, but that works.”

“What the heck, Soap!?” I cried, bouncing on the bed.

“Is it comfortable?” He asked, hopping onto next to me.

“I mean, yeah, but-”

“Then on to the next one,” he said, dragging me off the mattress. Each mattress I tried, I was thrown on by Soap like a dog tossing his toy in the air to catch.

“Okay, okay, okay,” I said, clawing myself away from Soap. “If you throw me again, I will barf on you.”

“Duly noted,” he said as he sat up. “So, did you really spend 5 years with your ex and not have sex?”

“Why? Why are you bringing this up?” I asked, looking at him wide eyed.

“Well, it’s curious, is all,” he said with a shrug. “You slept in the same bed, but never did anything? Not even hands?”

“I’m not having this conversation with you,” I said, standing up to go to another mattress.

“Hen, wait,” he called, hopping up to follow me. “It’s just. . . He slept with your neighbor, but never with you and he lived with you. That’s odd.”

“Okay, I get it, I’m weird for not sleeping with my live-in boyfriend,” I huffed at him.

“No, I meant that was odd for him,” Soap said. “You didn’t suddenly find yourself wanting to fuck someone after years of celibacy. It’s weird for him.”

“Okay, so you think something else happened?” I asked, unsure of where he was going with this.

“Well, you said your boss gave you knick knacks and then everything went to shite,” Soap said. “It sounds like a curse to me.”

“Okay, I’m going to stop you there. Curses aren’t real, I was being dramatic,” I said. “My ex just decided he was over manipulating me and doing what he wanted while using me.”

“Did he ever do anything like that before?” Soap asked. “I mean, anything out of character that suddenly?”

“I don’t know,” I groaned. “I don’t think so. Johnny, what’s the deal with this line of questioning? It’s not a mystery to be solved. Dirk was a narcissist that was using me and made it so I didn’t see his intentions. That’s it.”

“I don’t think it is,” he said, shaking his head. “You said you went back to work and had to leave the same day? What are they renovating?”

“This is getting a bit weird for my taste, so let’s get back to mattress shopping,” I said, turning away quickly. The way he was pushing for something made my stomach twist. There wasn’t a grand conspiracy going on. It was just stupid things happening at the worst times.

It was another half hour before I found the bed I wanted. It was comfy and cozy and until I broke it in, I could put a pillow topper on it. With the purchase made then loaded up, we went home. Soap and Kyle were quick to move the pieces in before we realized I didn’t have any sheets. Of course.

“I’m just going to run down to the shops and grab some. I really want to sleep in my own bed tonight with my own pillows and covers,” I said.

“Here, take the jeep,” Soap said, tossing me the keys.

“Thanks,” I said, catching them. 15 minutes later I was browsing through the home goods store, trying to decide what colors I wanted. While browsing, my mind began to wander as Soap’s words came back to me. Curses weren’t real. They were just made up like fairy tales to keep people from messing around with dead things and not to be awful to each other. But he was right. Dirk had changed that day I got my promotion. We hadn’t been intimate because he wanted to have a slightly old fashioned relationship. I didn’t mind because I didn’t really think about that stuff because I was usually so busy with work.

He was still the bad guy, his gaslighting had been happening since we met and it wasn’t like his cheating was out of the blue. I had thought he’d been seeing someone else before, catching him kissing a girl from his work. He explained it away as they were in a play, which made no sense as he worked as a salesperson for compost. Soap’s words shouldn’t have been eating at me so much, but maybe he was right. Maybe I was cursed and I needed true love’s kiss or something to break it. Except, no one loved me and I didn’t love anyone. Not like that at least. That connection with someone where you can almost read their thoughts, that you can feel what they feel, and while sometimes you fight, it doesn’t tear you apart. It brings you closer.

No. I didn’t have that and I was starting to think I never would.

Just as I was about to grab the purple jersey sheets, lost in my thoughts, my hand landed on someone else’s.

“Oh, sorry,” I said as I pulled away. Looking to the right, a man with sandy blond hair and piercing blue eyes had reached for the same set of sheets.

“Oh, no, go right ahead,” he said, his voice dripping with a Southern American accent. Chuckling, he stepped back to wave me on. “Sorry about that, I didn't realize someone else was grabbing for the same set.”

“Sorry, I was in my own little world, but thanks,” I said, taking the sheets to put in my trolley. “You don’t really strike me as a purple guy.”

“I’m usually not, but I was wanting to branch out a bit and, well, I need some new sheets anyways,” he said. “I’m Phillip, by the way.”

“Hi,” I said, giving him my name. “You don’t really get many Americans around here.”

“No, I don’t suppose you do,” he said, nodding. “Are you a local?”

“I moved here a while ago, so I’m basically a local now,” I said. “How long have you been here?”

“Not long. A few months really,” he said, leaning against his trolly. “I’m with the military and so I’m used to moving every few years.”

“Oh? My roommates are military too,” I said. “I have no idea what they do or what their ranks are, but they’re in the British military.”

“You don’t say? You wouldn’t happen to at least know their names, do you?” He asked with a chuckle.

“Uh, John, Kyle, Johnny, and Simon,” I said, a little perplexed. Maybe Phillip worked with them recently or they worked together in the past.

“That wouldn’t be John Price, Kyle Garrick, Johnny MacTavish, and Simon Riley, would it?” He asked, coming closer as he kept his eyes locked with mine.

“Wait, yeah. Do you know them?” I asked. My stomach began to twist again, like it did with Soap before. Something in my brain was telling me to run away, throw things at him and get out of there as quickly as possible. The air around us didn’t feel right, It was suddenly stagnant and warm versus the cool and moving with the fans on.

“I sure do,” he said before my phone went off. It was John. Phillip’s eyes finally left mine to look at my phone in my hand with a smirk. “You should probably answer that.” Frowning, I answered it as I stood there with Phillip.

“John?” I answered, my voice shaking as I looked back up at the blond. Phillip stepped closer, cornering me to keep me from slipping past him.

“You need to get home, NOW,” John said. “I pulled out all your things and set them up like I said, but there’s something wrong. Something is very wrong.” He sounded agitated, almost out of breath like something had chased him.

“John, I think you’re right,” I said. He paused, hearing the tremble in my voice

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked, the call getting staticy.

“I don’t know,” I said. Phillip sighed, holding his hand out for my phone, gesturing for me to give it to him. “John.” My back hit the wall of items, a few of them fell, but that was the least of my problems.

“What’s wrong?” He asked again, firmer.

“Do you know Phillip Graves?” I asked. John cursed as Phillip rolled his eyes, yanking my phone away. “John!”

“Hello, John, it’s been a while,” the man cooed. I stared at him with my mouth hanging open, turning to look for help. It hadn’t been that long since I was in the store and it wasn’t nearly closing time, but the entire store was empty save for me and Phillip. Even the employees were gone. “You know what we want. It’s an easy decision to make and I’ll make it even easier on you.”

“What?” I said, looking around again, seeing the windows blacked out. It had been bright with sunlight not five minutes ago. “John!” I cried, getting scared. Turning back to Phillip, he didn’t look the same. His eyes glowed red as black smoke rippled off of him. Screaming, I tried to rush past him, but he easily tripped me to send me to the ground. I didn’t have time to scramble as strong, smoking hands pulled me to my feet.

“Don’t hurt her,” Phillip said, his skin turning a pale, purple color. “Not yet at least. The ball’s in your court, John. I just hope your new roommate doesn’t mind being killed over a rock. I mean, you’ve let dozens of other people die over this, so what’s one more, hmm? You know where to find me when you’re ready to hand it over. Buh-bye,” he said in a sing-song voice before hanging up. “Now, let’s go have some fun.”

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