#unidentified gay noise

[oddmerit]

heres a few links from my bookmarks folder full of HTML and CSS resources that i used when first making my neocities website because i want other people to make their own sites as well because its fun :)

how to actually do html and css

web design in 4 minutes - this is the site that really made HTML and CSS click for me, following along as the author describes what’s he’s doing to the webpage and showing how it changes the presentation (you don’t need the book he shills at the end. i did without)

w3schools introduction to html - takes you through the very basics of creating a website, lesson-by-lesson. big goldmine for code to grab and scaffold off of once you have some basic skills

mozilla’s html guide - also a great beginner’s guide by the people who made mozilla, although i didnt use it as much as w3 schools

brackets.io - this is the program i use to write the files i use for my website. lets you do splitscreen to work with two files at once, gives you a breakdown of all the files in your website’s folder, and will let you autofill commonly-used tags and files in the code. supposedly has a live preview function but it doesnt work that well for me when i’m using a second monitor, which i normally do when coding. just save the file and refresh the page instead. 

(side note: i work in a software external to neocities instead of directly in the neocities editor because 1. local files update with a refresh and neocities has to update the cookies AND download all the website info again once you update, and 2. it effectively gives you a mass undo button if you fuck up because you have your files hosted in multiple places (local and online). yes its kinda annoying to have to manually upload all my files especially bc you cant upload whole folders AND you cant move their locations once uploaded but i prefer it to working directly on the site. if you have a neocities pro subscription ($5/month) you can mount your website directly on your machine as opposed to the neocities dashboard, which basically means you dont have to manually upload the code every time you change something -- it’ll update automatically)

codepen - if you prefer something browser-based to work in then try codepen, i used it a little bit at the beginning when trying to troubleshoot some code i didn’t quite understand. you need an account to actually save your work and im not sure if it actually lets you upload folders bc i never signed up lol

premade engines/sites/themes/etc etc

neothemes or eggramen or templaterr - if you wanna get a quick start on a neocities site, you CAN use a theme generator/premade theme. if you go this route i would still heavily recommend trying to learn HTML and CSS, and then go into the guts of your own website to try and pick it apart and change it to your liking

zonelets - a static blogging engine that uses HTML, CSS, and javascript. made for use on neocities but theoretically useable elsewhere. takes about 15 minutes to set up (if you use a default theme, but its pretty customizable if you know what you’re doing) and requires you to 1. write blog posts in html and 2. modify some code in a script file every time you want to upload a post, but it will automatically let you browse posts in order once you get everything uploaded

rarebit - a neocities webcomic template — havent used it yet but looks cool, and seems to operate off of the same principles as zonelets. 

glightbox - this is the lightbox javascript code i use when i want to display a lot of images on one page. i found this code via clicking “inspect element” on a neocities fanpage that the webmaster drew a lot of fanart for. you should click inspect element on neocities pages that you like so you can understand how they do what you like (you can even look at their css by clicking the style.css link you have to include at the top of your page)

plus a couple masterlists/directories:

yesterlinks

sadgrl.online’s webmastery directory

#unidentified gay noise #html #neocities #i took a 2.5 hour nap today and drank coffee at 4 pm and im still sleept #edit oct 22: removed the anti-t*rf disclaimer bc i havent seen any sus reblogs in a while and i didnt wanna keep seeing it in my notifs #but it still stands :)

[tsukidrama]

A Siren's Call

Annie Leonhardt x Reader (Pirate AU)

warnings include general spookiness and references to drowning.

Summary: Sirens are taught to leave no survivors, but Annie chooses differently when she encounters a human woman for the first time.

Ao3 | Wattpad | art

Word Count: 1.5k

✩ Author’s Note: this is so gay and self indulgent but i do not care. written in Janurary 2021.

a sudden breeze makes all of the men grow silent. once-busy deckhands still to a stop as they crane their necks into the cold night air. across the water drifts a song that chills as much as the wind does, and it reverberates in the salt-soaked wood. the notes become shrill and ethereal the closer the source of the sound comes to you.

the first mate, a scarred and sullen man usually unaffected by the madness the sea brings, speaks with a tremor in his voice.

“watch yerself lads,” he growls, and pulls loose a rope from the mast, “these are dark waters. no tellin’ what we’re in fer tonight”

for a moment, the silence on board the ship is just as defeaning as the wailing beneath the waves. a rolling note washes across the planks with a tangible energy - not concrete enough to bring a physical sensation but enough to send a chill down your spine.

grown men, sea-weathered dogs who lived for this, throw themselves against the mast of the ship, scrambling to tether themselves to the massive wooden posts. ropes overlap and strain as some pull them taught, and snap where others saw at them with rusty knives.

“let me go to her!” one man screams as he breaks free, and he runs to the railing. it creaks as the weight of his body slams against the side of the ship. he gazes out into the dark swirling waters in a trance. he looks in both directions and after a brief moment of contemplation, swings a leg over the side of the railing. before you have the chance to open your mouth to scream, a thin white hand emitting a faint otherworldly glow reaches from the otherwise black water to grasp his wrist.

a rope is thrown to the man, but it thuds against the wooden planks. as quickly as the hand appeared, it vanishes below the surface, taking the sailor with it. he tumbles over the edge with a shout. you expect screams to fill your ears, so the gurgling followed by silence is even more eerie than you expected.

you look around, hands shaking, to find that you’re the only one still standing. the ambient noises of waves crashing against the ship, or the calls of birds flying in the distance are gone. only the sound of your teeth chattering and the bated breath of a dozen restrained men by the mast.

a newfound chill washes over you as a halo of light appears beneath the water near where the drowned sailor disappeared. it rises to the surface slowly, and the waves break to give rise to the figure of a pale, effervescent woman. water rolls down her hair and across her shoulders, tugging at silky gossamer fabric that hugs the shape of her body. she shines with a muted light that makes her seem even more dreamlike than she already appears.

although every muscle in your body is paralyzed, you do not fear her. her gaze is not on you - she eyes the whimpering crew with a hungry look about her, and amusement flickers across her face.

in the open air, any sound is lost across the endless waters as the silence persists. the surface of the water is now so still that it mirrors each star above. the darkness around you is endless, and all you can see is her. she shines like a beacon, and emits a soft light around her in every direction.

sobs break out from the huddled masses of sailors, and wood creaks as they struggle against the ropes they bound themselves with.

“take me with you!” one of them shrieks.

the silence shatters like glass when the siren resumes her song. from her lips spills music that sounds unidentifiably intangible and unearthly, and as she sings to the men you realize that you’ve heard her song before, yet only in your dreams. it reminds you of a memory that is not your own, and of experiences that do not belong to you.

it is not her song that draws you to her, and it is not her song that stirs something inside of you. you do not emphasize with the rattled cries of your fellow crew members, or their pleads for the end. it is not the idea of death, or peace, that tugs at the strings of your heart.

her song is captivating, but it is not why you stare at her. she is beautiful, and the sight of her brings tears to even the strongest of men in the crew, but it is not why you cannot look away. you do not know why you do it, but you feel compelled to take a step closer to her.

another tangible wave of energy radiates from around her at your approach, and chills run down your spine. but your hand is already outstretched by the time she senses you. your fingers stop mere inches from her shoulder. you’re surprised to find that the light around her is warm, and grows hotter the closer you come. for the first time, she becomes aware of your presence.

confusion flickers across her face as her focus switches to you. the hunger in her gaze fades, and the song from her lips comes to an abrupt stop mid-riff. her eyes flicker to your outstretched hand, and when she looks at your face once again she allows her mouth to close fully.

your eyes widen as you look into hers. for a moment, you forget the circumstances that led you to where you were, and the nature of her presence. she looks at you warily and she tilts her head as if to size you up.

her gaze rakes across your body, and you feel her eyes traveling across every inch of your skin. the time you spend before her could have been minutes or hours and you had no way of knowing. time slows down, stops, yet somehow also speeds by in a way you’ve never experienced before. icy blue eyes wander back to your own, and narrow. you aren’t sure if she is confused or suspicious of you, but you know she has no aggression towards you as her hand moves to meets yours.

she doesn’t speak, but she doesn’t need to. the tension between you is so heavy that you could cut it with a knife, and you are suddenly overriden with the fear that touching her will lead you to the same fate as the man on the railing. after several long, agonizing seconds, she finally touches you.

you can hardly feel it when she does, and you’re taken aback by how cold her skin is compared to the warmth surrounding her. the pressure of her fingers is so light on your skin that it feels nearly imagined, and as cold as icy seawater. she presses a flat, solid circle into the palm of your hand, and your fingers tighten around it on instinct.

you cannot look away from her eyes, and you wonder if this new feeling in your chest could explain the reason why the rest of the crew tied themselves to the ship. the siren lets her hand drop to her side, and her lips part once again. when she speaks, her voice is nothing like her song.

“not you,” she whispers, as gently as the wind across the still water.

once again she turns away from you, and this time looks at the moon - a beacon in the otherwise blackness of the night sky. you notice that it shines the same way she does, muted and soft yet somehow tender in a way that you can’t quite put into words. you suddenly feel the weight of the universe on your shoulders, and wonder again if her spell is why you feel the way you do.

as quickly as she arrived, she is gone. she backs away from you before you realize she’s leaving, and sinks down into the water as silently and mysteriously as she emerged. you stare into her piercing blue eyes until the black water swallows her head. your fingers dig into the circle she pressed into your hand

the sky returns to normal, and the weight in the air dissaptes. the sea begins to move again, and you can hear the water rocking against the boat. stars blink back into existance, the lanterns aboard the ship flicker back to life, and in the light of the flames you unclench your fingers and look at what she had given you.

salt water floods out of your closed palm to drip down the back of your hand. a perfect sand dollar rests in your palm, and your thumb brushes across the smooth surface. finally, you remember to breathe.

the crew begins to stir as they break free from the siren’s hold on them. they struggle to free themselves, but you can’t be bothered to help. instead, you look out across the water with something in your chest aching. you wander to the ship’s railing, with your bottom lip quivering, clutching the sand dollar so tightly that it hurts.

“why?” you whisper, and at long last tears fall from your eyes “why not me?”

#annie-isms #pirate au #mermaid au #siren au #annie leonhardt x reader #annie leonhardt x you #annie leonhardt imagine #annie leonhardt headcanons #annie x you #annie x reader #annie leonhart x reader #annie leonhart x you #annie leonhart imagine #annie leonhart headcanons #snk #snk au #aot #aot au #snk x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #writing for my wives

[pastelwitchling]

Somebody to You (1/4)

Chapter 1. Hidden Feelings

Alex Manes is Michael's best friend in the entire world. His platonic soulmate, in fact. That's why, when Michael discovers that Alex is in love with him, he panics. Rather than risk the loss of his friendship, Michael begs his brother Max to date Alex instead, and divert his affections. Though hesitant at first, Max agrees for the sake of helping his brother. But what happens when Max realizes that there is more to Alex than he first thought? Romance ensues, and as Max and Alex become closer, Max realizes that what had started as a favor to Michael has turned all too real. The only problem is that Michael never expected Max to actually fall in love. Can Max stay with Alex knowing that their beginning is based on the worst kind of betrayal?

               High school was hard enough without your best friend falling in love with you.

               Not that there was anything wrong with Alex Manes, guys and girls both had to admit he was pretty to look at, but he was Michael’s best friend. When he’d first come out to him last year, Michael had very pointedly not teased the question, You don’t have a crush on me, do you?

               Now, he didn’t know whether or not that had been the right move. If he’d asked, would Alex have blushed and given himself away? Or would he have been insulted? Or would he have rolled his eyes at the question like he did any time Michael said something stupid?

               Maybe if he’d asked, he wouldn’t have found out by accidentally eavesdropping on Alex’s private conversation with Liz. Maybe he wouldn’t have heard Alex’s tears, heard his voice as strung out as it had been, fueled by exhaustion and fear.

               “What if he doesn’t say no?” Liz tried, the words more a plea than an actual consideration to Michael’s ears. He could hear her desperate desire for her own words to be true, and the resignation in the knowledge that they weren’t. “What if he likes you back?”

               “He won’t,” Alex cried, and made Michael’s grip on the music room door handle tighten. “He’ll never talk to me again.”

               “Michael loves you,” Liz insisted. “He’ll love you even if you want something more. Look,” she was speaking more quickly now, “maybe if you tell him, you’ll feel better. Right? That’s why you’re crying, isn’t it? It’s just another huge weight on your shoulders, but if he knows that you’ve loved him since middle school, then – then maybe at least he’ll stop rubbing his one-night stands in your face!”

               She sounded furious at the mention of it. Michael thought about the last blonde, nameless girl he’d had two nights ago, the way he’d latched to Alex’s back the next day, eager to tell him all about it. The way Alex, the dark circles around his eyes darker for reasons other than the eyeliner, had shrugged him off and murmured some excuse about getting to class.

               Shame swelled in his chest until he realized he had nothing to be guilty for. He hadn’t known Alex had feelings for him!

               Oh god, he realized. Alex had feelings for him. His best friend – no, best friend wasn’t enough to describe what Alex was. His soulmate, the very half of his heart, wanted more than friendship from him.

               He swallowed, about to walk away. He shouldn’t be hearing any of this. He shouldn’t know any of it. Then –

               “No,” Alex said. “No, I’m just – I’m just tired.” He sniffled, and Michael imagined him roughly wiping his face with his sleeves. “I don’t want him to know.”

               “Alex –”

               “No, Liz,” he said more sternly, more afraid. “I don’t want him to know. You . . . when I told you, you promised you’d never tell him. You’re not going to –”

               “No,” she breathed, appalled. “No, of course not. I’d never do that.”

               “I know,” he said quietly. “I just . . . please, you can’t say stuff like that. It – I can’t – if he finds out –”

               “Hey,” Liz said softly. “He won’t.”

               “I can’t lose him,” he said and sniffled. “I’m just . . . upset because of my dad. The last thing I want is for Michael to leave me because of a stupid crush.”

               A moment’s pause, then Liz tried, “Alex . . . it’s more than a crush.”

               “Please,” Alex pleaded. “Don’t tell him. I never want him to know.”

               “Okay,” Liz said, and Michael heard shuffling. He dared peek into the room and saw Alex there alongside the piano, his back to the door, Liz’s arms around his shoulders. Her eyes were closed, so she didn’t see Michael. “I promise, I’ll never tell him.”

               Alex hugged her waist, and his body sagged with exhaustion against her. He hummed, but his voice waivered, like he was trying not to cry again.

               Michael had left then, replaying everything he’d heard in his head. Alex liked him. No, Alex more than liked him. What was he supposed to do with that?

               This wasn’t like finding out the local gay guy had fantasies about him. This was finding out the guy he trusted more than anybody, the guy he cherished more than anybody, had feelings for him. It felt like a threat to their friendship.

               Michael slumped against the driver’s side of his truck, his backpack barely hanging off one hand. This was Alex. What was he supposed to do?

               Alex liked him. His response? He clenched his jaw. No fucking way. He didn’t want to be in a relationship with Alex. It was Alex. It wasn’t that he couldn’t see holding his hand and going on dates with him and he’d seen him in the locker rooms. It was no wonder the girls here had had a memorial when they’d found out the hot emo musician only wanted men . . .

               It didn’t matter. He didn’t want anything with Alex. He’d had too many one-night stands and too many nameless, faceless nobodies to know that love was only something that existed in his brother’s books. Getting intimate with someone meant risking losing them.

               He clenched his fists. He would’ve rather died than lose Alex. He opened his truck door and climbed inside. He gripped his steering wheel tightly, unable to start it for a good minute as an unidentified dread settled in the bottom of his chest and climbed up through his heart.

               When he parked in front of the junkyard where old man Sanders let him stay, and he found his brother Max sitting in a lawn chair, he understood what the dread was. It was the same thing he’d heard in Alex’s voice when it seemed like Liz might let his feelings for him slip; Raw fear.

               As he stepped out, millions of worst-case scenarios swarmed his mind. What if Alex decided to tell him the truth? What if he blurted it one day in a fight? What if they were so happy that Alex got the courage to kiss him? What if things ended terribly and they lost each other?

               Max raised a brow at him. “You look like hell. What happened?”

               Michael could only shake his head as he took the seat opposite Max. He was due to work in half an hour, but sometimes Sanders let him rest up if he’d had a long day. And those last few minutes overhearing what he had in the music room had officially made this the longest day ever.

               “Tell me something,” he sighed, leaning his head back and not at all paying attention to the dotted white clouds across the blue sky. “Anything.”

                “Okay?” Max said more in the form of a question. “I – uh – saw Liz today. In the music room. With Alex.”

               He groaned. “Anything else.”

               Max nudged his knee with the back of his hand. “Hey, what’s wrong with you? You look like someone just smashed your guitar.”

               My guitar. The guitar that Alex had given him because Michael had offhandedly mentioned once that music helped ease the noise in his mind. How had he not known then? Alex had paid such special attention to him. He had read his mind and known what his heart had wanted and given it to him when no one else bothered to look past the excitement of getting to rebel under the bleachers with the genius trailer trash.

               How had he not known?

               “I changed my mind,” he said. “Don’t speak. Just let me wallow.”

               “Huh,” Max said. “Isobel’s been a fortress since she joined the Spring Dance committee, and you’re busy falling into your own despair for whatever reason.” He pulled a little brown leather notebook out of his back pocket. “Do any of my siblings have time for me?”

               “I’m not falling into anything,” Michael grumbled. “Why do you have to get so poetic about . . . every . . . damn . . .” he trailed off, his eyes narrowing at the notebook. “Alex has that same notebook.”

               Max hummed noncommittally, leaning back in his seat again and resting the notebook on his lap as he began doodling a rose. “Different colors though,” he said. “His is black. They got mixed up last week when he and I bumped into each other in the school hallway.”

               An idea formed, somewhere in the back of his mind. Like water on ink; something definitely there, but unreadable. He leaned back again, wiping whatever the itch was from his eye.

               “I don’t want to think about Alex right now,” he muttered, though even as he said it, his thoughts taunted him. Alex was all he could think about right now.

               “Whoa,” Max blinked. Even he knew how much Alex and Michael treasured each other. Michael had never said he didn’t want to do something where Alex was concerned. “You guys have a fight or something?”

               “No,” Michael said, though a fight might’ve been easier to deal with. “I found out . . . I heard Liz say . . .” He huffed, closing his eyes. He blurted. “Alex is in love with me.”

               Silence. Michael opened his eyes and saw Max’s expression completely unsurprised. He looked like he was waiting for Michael to get to the point.

               He straightened. “Are you kidding me? You really knew?”

               Max scoffed. “You really didn’t?”

               “No!” he gaped and stood. “He’s my best friend, why would I think he was in love with me?!”

               “Because he’s your best friend.”

               “So?!”

               “So!” Max said like it was obvious. “Alex hates people! Liz and Kyle are his only friends, he barely tolerates me and Isobel, and Rosa Ortecho swears he hissed at her once!” He huffed a disbelieving chuckle. “Before you came along, Liz told me he never said two words to anybody he hadn’t known since before his mom left. You want to take a guess as to why he warmed up to you so quickly?”

               Michael didn’t answer. Max grabbed his arm. “And for the love of god, stop pacing, you’re making me nauseous.”

               He tugged him down onto the lawn chair, and Michael sagged against it. He stared into the distance, lost in his memories of his first meeting with Alex. Alex had been bullied, pushed into a tree and made fun of for stares and feelings he had yet to understand himself. Then Michael had jumped between him and the bullies, waving a tree branch, screaming at them to get away or he would kill them.

               It had been the wildness of his eyes and words, wildness he’d gained from years with monsters for parents, that had unnerved them in the end. Alex had taken his offered hand with wide eyes then, and timidly asked, “You’re not scared of me?”

               Michael had known then that this twelve-year-old had been told too often that he was something unnatural, something wrong, and was expecting it from someone else now. So he’d looked Alex over, as if checking for bruises, and rested the branch on his shoulder like it had been a bat.

               He’d grinned and said, “No fangs or a tail. You look fine to me!”

               After that moment, Alex had followed him everywhere, his eyes never anything less than adoring.

               Michael shut his eyes. How could he have not known?

               A buzzing against his thigh snapped him out of his thoughts, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Alex was calling.

               “Shit,” he leapt to his feet, holding the phone at a distance as if afraid that Alex could somehow see him through the camera. “Shit shit shit.”

               “What?” Max followed and his shoulders slumped at the sight of Alex’s name. “Dude, just answer. He doesn’t know you know, remember?”

               “Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, right, yeah.”

               “It’s still just Alex.”

               “Just Alex,” he repeated. “It’s just Alex.” He answered the call, held the phone to his ear, and all but yelled, “Hey!” He winced at himself and Max rolled his eyes.

               “Hey?” Alex asked, laughter in his voice. He didn’t sound like he’d just been crying his eyes out at all. Then it hit Michael. Alex was abused. He was used to hiding his scars. “Why’re you screaming?”

               “I’m not!” he said, then adjusted his volume with a clear of his throat. “I’m – uh – I’m not. What’s up?”

               He loves me. He loves me, he loves me, he loves me.

               Michael, so caught in the thought, completely missed what Alex had asked him. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry,” he grit out, “say that again?”

               “Oh, I’m sorry, is the auto shop really busy right now?” Alex asked like he knew the answer. “Pay attention, Guerin, this is important!”

               Of course, Michael had ditched time and time again because they hardly had any cars in around now, and all Sanders did when he was an hour late was yell and grumble, then give him and Alex an extra plate of whatever he’d had for lunch.

               “I asked what time you were coming to my gig tonight,” he said, a little more hesitantly. When Michael didn’t answer, he cleared his throat. “At the – uh – the Wild Pony? Just so I can save you a seat.”

               Michael let his hand with the phone fall, his shoulders slumped. For years, he’d owed that nervous stammer in Alex’s voice, the way he went from confident to shy with just a second of Michael’s silence, to nerves about his gigs. Now he speculated it was because of something else.

               Damn it. He wished he’d never known about Alex’s feelings. He wished he could unhear everything.

               He realized Alex was talking again, and he held the phone to his ear.

               “If you can’t make it,” he was saying, “I get it, I just need to know for the seats, you know?”

               Michael had never canceled on Alex before, but Alex was a little sensitive where his music was concerned. Michael assumed it was because he had a father and brothers who belittled what he did every day, no matter how often Michael told him he loved his songs.

               He gripped the phone tightly. He wondered what Alex would do if he canceled on him now.

               “Michael,” Max mouthed, “talk to him.”

               “Guerin,” Alex huffed a laugh. It sounded forced. “Dude, it’s fine. It’s one gig, I think our friendship will survive.”

               Will it? Michael feared. Will it survive this, Alex? Will it survive feelings that friends shouldn’t have for each other? Will it survive if I can’t help but look into the double meaning of every word you say now?

               He felt oddly frustrated with Alex, like this was his fault somehow. Like he was singlehandedly destroying everything they’ve ever had by wanting more.

               “Is it another gig?” Max asked, nudging his elbow. “Will Liz be there? Ask him if Liz will be there.”

               Michael rolled his eyes, about to snap at his brother that this was not the time. Couldn’t he see that Michael was suffering some emotional turmoil over here?

               “Guerin,” Alex tried again. “Are you there?” He heard a sigh, and Alex mumbled, “Is the reception bad?”

               Michael hated this. He was starting to scare Alex, and it was the very last thing he wanted to do. Max was still asking about Liz, his notebook, just like Alex’s but a different color, in his hand, and Michael clenched his jaw. Max liked Liz, but it would be so much easier for everyone if . . . if . . .

               His eyes widened. The idea that had begun to sink below the depths of his mind surfaced now. Before he could make it out completely, he found himself saying, “Sorry, hang on a second, babe, my brother keeps trying to talk to me.”

               “Oh!” relief flooded Alex’s voice and he chuckled breathlessly. It sounded so much more real, and that hurt Michael all the more. “Yeah, sure! God, Michael, you freaked me out a second there. Yeah, take your time.”

               Michael covered the speaker on his phone and told Max quietly, “I need you to come to Alex’s gig with me.”

               Max’s eyes widened. “Liz will be there?”

               “Doesn’t matter,” Michael said. “I need you to ask out Alex.”

               Max stared a moment, then, “What?”

               Michael held up a finger to his brother and brightened his tone when he told Alex, “Hey, Alex, can I bring Max to your gig tonight?”

               “W-wait,” Max said, “Michael, what’d you mean, ask out Alex? Was that a joke?”

               Michael ignored him as Alex scoffed. “Sure. But you’re definitely coming, right? Because I was totally lying before. If you don’t make it, I’ll never talk to you again.”

               Michael smiled and almost said, Would I ever not show up for you?, realized how Alex might take it, and diverted at the last second.

               “Uh – yeah – see you tonight, then.”

               It was awkward and unnatural for them, but Alex hardly seemed to notice, lost in his own happiness, as he told Michael he’d see him tonight, and hung up.

               He barely met Max’s dark eyes and crossed arms when Max said, “No.”

               “Hear me out –”

               “If your next sentence doesn’t end with, ‘and then everyone will laugh, and it’ll totally take the edge off,’ I don’t want to hear it.”

               “One date!” he begged, following Max back to the chairs and their backpacks. “Just one! Consider it a birthday present to me! For the next five years – no, ten years!”

               “This isn’t a favor, Michael!” Max argued. “I’m not going to ask your best friend out just so you can avoid having to talk about this!”

               “But –”

               “Besides,” Max said, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, “I’m not gay or bisexual or pansexual or anything. He’d smell a fake a mile away.”

               “You’d totally pass for bisexual!” Michael argued. “Look at you” – he tapped Max’s arms, his chest, his notebook – “you have the whole muscly jock with a tender heart thing going on, come on!”

               Max stared. “Do you hear yourself?”

               “Max,” he urged. “I need you to do this one thing for me! I’d do it for you!”

               “You wouldn’t have to,” Max said. “I don’t pass off people who like me to my brother like a freaking torch.”

               Michael winced, and Max sighed, his expression softening. “And I like Liz, remember?”

               “Then this’ll be the perfect in for you,” he insisted. “Getting close to Alex means getting close to Liz. Then, in – in a month, just until the Spring Dance, you can smooth your way to Liz, and Alex will know the breakup is coming.”

               Michael swallowed thickly before he said, “I know him. He hates being left behind, so he’ll end things first.”

               Max shook his head. “And he’ll be heartbroken. Assuming your plan works. Is that what you want, Michael?”

               Michael hesitated, then, “It’ll just break for a minute.” He added quickly, “Th-then I’ll come in, and he won’t want to date your brother, so he’ll know we’re better off as friends.”

               He pursed his lips a moment, then walked past him. “You’re crazy.”

               Michael clenched his jaw and blocked Max’s path. “I can’t date Alex,” he said fiercely. “I can’t.”

               “He doesn’t know you overheard anything,” Max told him, not unkindly. “Can’t you just . . . play along?”

               Michael shook his head, his fists tight at his side. “It’ll come out,” he said. “I know it will. Please, Max, I . . . I can’t lose him. I need you.”

               Those were the words, Michael knew, that Max could never say no to. Those were the words that he and Isobel used only in extreme cases, when guilt for taking advantage of their brother’s good heart had to be put aside to fix whatever had happened. Michael hated using them, had used them only once before in his life, but knew he had to use them again now.

               Max sighed and looked away, something like resignation settling in the slump of his shoulders. A moment’s pause, then – “Alex hates me.”

               “No,” Michael breathed, already smiling despite the pinch in his chest that he would’ve rather not thought about. “You said it yourself, he barely tolerates you.” He took Max’s journal and held it up. “And if anyone can make something into something more, it’s a writer.”

               *

               Max wasn’t good at being a boyfriend. Not that he’d ever been anyone’s boyfriend, but that was the problem. He had no idea how to flirt or tease or ask anyone out. It was why he’d spent the better part of the last year pining after Liz Ortecho, stumbling through his hellos.

               Now, for whatever reason, he was prepping himself to ask out someone for the first time in his life. And it was Liz’s best friend. The things he did for his siblings . . .

               As Michael parked his truck outside the Wild Pony, Max thought about the few times he’d seen Alex around town. He was reminded of the Greek mythology stories he loved reading; of Hades, Lord of the Underworld, and how sunlight couldn’t touch him. He was nothing like his brothers who were all on one sports team or another. Who seemed to have no problem being popular.

               Though none of them, he knew, were like Alex. The dark prince, the one everyone wanted to know for his mystery, but the one who didn’t want anyone near him. The one people gave up on because he was too difficult to approach.

               You had to have an in. And, Max supposed, Michael was his in.

               “Remember,” Michael was telling him as they left the truck. “His favorite song is Welcome to the Black Parade, don’t get him a beer until after his set, and whatever you do, do not insult Star Wars. He didn’t talk to Valenti for two days when he thought there were Jedis in Star Trek.”

               Max started to laugh, saw that Michael was watching him expectantly, and huffed. “Would you calm down? I’m the one who gets to worry here. There’s no way Alex will let me come within three feet of him.”

               “I already told you,” Michael said. “You have me. You just think about being your usual charming self –”

               “Is that supposed to be another joke?”

               “—And Alex will be happy to have you.”

               Michael stopped abruptly just as they reached the doors. He turned to Max and pointed a warning finger. “Just don’t kiss him.”

               Max blinked. “Excuse me?”

               “Don’t kiss him,” he repeated seriously. “That’s . . . it’s too far. He deserves to be kissed by someone who . . . really wants to kiss him.” He shook the thought out of his head. “Just – just don’t kiss him.”

               “I won’t kiss him,” Max held his hands up. “I don’t want to anyway.”

               “And don’t talk that way around him,” Michael grit out. “Anyone would be lucky to have Alex.”

               Max looked to the skies for aid. “Then you date him!”

               “I can’t,” was all Michael said, and tugged on Max’s arm. “Come on, you’ll do great.”

               The Wild Pony doors opened to chatter and cowboys and clanking drinks. Max heaved a sigh, tapping his fingers on his thigh. He could do this. He could do this.

               Michael patted his back and went on ahead. Max followed, thinking of what he’d say to Alex when he saw him.

               He considered, “What’s up?”, “How’s it hanging?”, “‘Sup, bro!”, and winced at himself. He needed more time to think of something, but he didn’t have any. He spotted Liz first, and Kyle and Alex beside her. Liz and Kyle were laughing about something, but Alex was focused on his music sheets, his fingers running over the keys as if making sure he knew the song by heart.

               Right then, Max realized what a terrible idea this was.

               “Michael,” he tried, reaching for his brother’s shoulder. “I – I think we should talk about this –”

               “Alex!” Michael called, and went ahead. Max was left stumbling behind him.

               Alex glanced up and smiled at the sight of Michael. “Hey! I saved you a seat up front!”

               Michael looked like he was going to wrap an arm around his shoulders like he usually did, then his smile dimmed and he cleared his throat, patting Alex’s arm in the end.

               “Duh, buddy,” he said. “What are friends for?”

               Alex glanced down for a fraction of a second before his smile returned and he pulled Michael to behind the keyboard to look at his song. It was like Max wasn’t there.

               Michael seemed to notice that, too. He raised his brows pointedly at Max, and Max cleared his throat, stepped forward, and said, “H-hey, Alex.”

               Alex looked up like he thought he heard someone talk to him, and his eyes met Max’s. His brows furrowed and he pressed his lips together, clearly confused as to why Michael’s brother was talking to him.

               “Hi,” he murmured. “So, Guerin, look at this, I used the lyrics you came up with yesterday.”

               “Uh –” Michael barely glanced at the page. “Hope you don’t mind that I brought Max,” he said, pulling Max forward. “He really wanted to hear you sing.”

               Alex narrowed his eyes at Max. “If he’s here to, like, make fun of me or something –”

               “No,” Max said at once. “No, I – I really do . . . like . . . music.”

               Alex stared a moment. Then he looked away, uncomfortable, and took Michael’s hand. He muttered, “Is he coming with us for ice cream after?”

               Michael chuckled and subtly removed his hand from Alex’s. Max could see the flash of hurt in Alex’s eyes before it was gone, and he thought he might’ve imagined it.

               “We’ll see,” Michael said, “about the ice cream, okay?”

               Alex scoffed and bumped their shoulders. “Yeah, okay. The day Michael Guerin says no to ice cream is the day Kyle Valenti gets into med school.”

               “Hey!” Kyle argued.

               “I’m kidding!” Alex laughed. “I knew you were listening in, you freak!”

               Kyle pulled Alex to him, and Michael kept laughing until he whipped around to face Max, then his smile fell away and he hissed, “Work with me here!”

               “I’m trying,” Max hissed back. “I am making him uncomfortable, Michael.”

               “He’s just not used to you talking to him,” he whispered. “Just – just – just . . . move in there!”

               He pushed Max forward, and Max nearly stumbled into Alex’s keyboard. Alex looked startled.

               “Max,” Liz blinked, “are you okay?”

               Kyle tilted his head. “You drunk already, dude?”

               “Uh . . .” Max started, and pointed at the keys. “I like your piano.”

               Alex raised a brow. “It’s actually not mine. It belongs to the bar.”

               “Oh.” Max nodded. “W-Well, you look really cool. I wish I could play the piano, so that’s – that’s really cool.”

               “Thanks?”

               “Can I – uh – can I buy you a beer? After your set?”

               His face burned as Alex stared. Then, while still watching Max apprehensively, Alex called, “Guerin?”

               Michael didn’t answer. Max turned to find that he’d started talking up the first blonde he’d found. Asshole, he thought, clearly looking for any excuse to leave him alone with his best friend.

               He looked back at Alex, and saw that he was watching Michael, too. His shoulders had fallen, and his brows pinched, but there was no surprise in his face. He was so used to Michael ignoring him when a better offer came along.

               He knew he should say something, though he didn’t know what. If Alex thought of Michael as nothing but a friend, this wouldn’t have hurt him.

               Liz then suddenly wrapped her arms around Alex’s waist, tighter and tighter until he burst into laughter. Kyle picked up the music sheets and complained why Alex never played any heavy metal.

               “You dress like you play it,” he said, “is all I’m saying!”

               They were clearly trying to distract him from whatever Michael was doing. Max scratched the back of his head, not knowing what to do himself.

               When the show started, Michael was already in his seat, pulling Max to sit down beside him. Liz clapped the loudest and Kyle offered a thumbs up. Michael kept his arms crossed, as if afraid anything he did would be taken the wrong way. Max could see Alex’s momentary confusion before Mimi DeLuca announced his song.

               Max was looking everywhere, namely at Liz, until Michael nudged his side with his elbow, and Alex started playing. As the first few notes fell together like a soothing waterfall, Max started. He looked to Alex, eyes wide. This was his music? He didn’t know why, but he’d imagined, like Kyle had teased, heavy metal or I-hate-everything ballads. But this . . .

               Not thirty seconds in, Max’s eyes had fallen shut.

               He had no idea how it had happened. One second, he was in a wooden chair at a bar where most of the crowd was laughing and talking over the music. The next, he found himself in a forest, surrounded by pine trees, with a clear lake behind him.

               When Alex started to sing – who knew he had such a smooth voice? – Max then felt the breeze of a desert night across his cheeks, the stars and full moon bright above, the rest of the world turned to peaceful quiet.

               The further along Alex got in his song, the more Max’s fingers itched to write. He couldn’t remember the last time ideas poured into his head like this, the last time he felt his heart swell with the anticipation of creating something.

               This was a song Alex had made up. Had he always had such talent? Max had never been to one of his gig’s before because he’d never been invited. Or he had, and he had been lost in the chattering crowd in the back, not paying attention.

               Now, he had to pay attention. He found it impossible to do anything else. When Alex finished, his friends and Michael stood to applaud. Liz screamed, Kyle whistled, and Michael looked prouder than Max had ever seen him of anybody. Max slowly did the same, staring.

               Alex looked red-faced, but his eyes shone brightly and he smiled widely, like even he could feel the emotion he’d just created. He stepped down, running a hand through his dark hair, and accepted the bottle of water from Kyle with a thanks.

               “Is it over?” he breathed after taking big gulps.

               “Yeah,” Kyle laughed, ruffling his hair and messing it up again. “It’s over, buddy.”

               “That’s my Alex,” Michael said before he could help it, and Max saw the blush deepen in Alex’s cheeks. Michael seemed to have realized his mistake, and handed a cold beer under the table to Max.

               Max hesitated, then held it out for Alex to take.

               Alex looked startled, but he was still smiling. “Thanks,” he murmured, accepting the bottle.

               “So,” Kyle drummed his hands on the table. “Ice cream to celebrate?”

               “Ice cream!” Liz yelled and Alex laughed. He turned to Michael.

               “Ice cream?”

               “Uh . . .” Michael looked over at the blonde he’d been flirting with. She waved to him from across the bar. Max saw the tick in his jaw, the way his fingers curled to fists under the table, and he knew that the last thing Michael wanted to do was cancel on Alex.

               Yet that was what he did.

               “Raincheck?” he said, and nudged his chin at the girl. “I think I’m about to live the Rockstar fantasy.”

               Liz frowned, disapproving. “But you’re not the Rockstar. Alex is.”

               “Well, the girls have to go somewhere,” he shrugged, already walking backwards. “If any guys show up, I’ll send ‘em your way, babe.”

               “O-Oh,” Alex’s brows pinched. “Okay . . .”

               “Max can take my place!” he offered, and turned his back to them. “See you tomorrow!”

               “Jackass,” Kyle muttered.

               Max opened his mouth to defend Michael, not knowing what he’d say exactly, when Alex said, “He’s just been really stressed out lately. He – he has all those honor classes. I think he should let off a little steam.”

               Liz did not look like she agreed. “Alex . . .”

               “It’s okay, really,” he said, then managed a smile that did not reach his eyes. “More for us, right?”

               Max stared. “You really care about him, don’t you?”

               “Of course I do,” Alex said simply, and looked at Michael’s retreating form with a forlorn look. “He’s my best friend.”

                 Alex seemed distracted. No matter how much Liz and Kyle tried to pull him into conversation, the best he could manage was a smile that even Max could tell was fake. Max felt kind of bad for him. He seemed to really be trying his best to cheer up, but every time a blonde girl or any straight couple passed, his mood dimmed again, like he couldn’t help but wonder what Michael was doing now.

               Not knowing what else to do, Max nudged his arm and asked the only question he could think to. “Did you really write that song you sang tonight?”

               Alex looked confused as to why Max would ask him anything, and he shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah.”

               Max shook his head. “That’s so cool,” he breathed. “It – I mean, it was really good.”

               Alex checked to make sure Liz and Kyle were too caught up with each other to hear them, then said, “Okay, what’s your deal, Evans? Why are you suddenly being so nice to me?”

               Max frowned. “I’ve always been nice to you.”

               Alex raised a skeptical brow. “You’ve always been polite. And that’s only because I’m friends with your brother. I know you’re as scared of me as everyone else.”

               “That’s not true!” Max said at once. “I’m scared of everyone!”

               Alex blinked, and Max realized too late what he’d said. He blushed and looked down, expecting to be laughed at. When he heard Alex huff an incredulous chuckle, he shut his eyes tight, humiliated.

               Then he said, “You? Mr. Perfect?”

               “I’m not perfect.”

               Alex scrunched his nose. Max was reminded of a kitten. “Aren’t you though? Tall, dark, and handsome,” he nudged his chin at the notebook poking out of Max’s back pocket. “And you write.”

               Max smirked. “But you’re all of those things.”

               Alex blinked, startled, and Max could’ve sworn he saw a pink tint across his cheeks. Maybe it was just too dark.

               Max cleared his throat and went on. “You should know then, better than anyone, that it doesn’t matter how good-looking you are. Sooner or later, some people just give up trying to get close to you.”

               “Is that what you’re doing?” Alex scoffed halfheartedly. “Trying to get close to me?”

               He wouldn’t look at Max as he said it, as if he was sure that was not what was going on. It made Max’s words come out more smoothly than he’d expected. “Yes. It is.”

               Alex stopped, surprised. Max also stopped and faced him. He could see Liz and Kyle stop out of the corner of his eyes, and prayed they couldn’t hear him.

               When he spoke, the lie left his lips with a little more trouble. “I like you, Alex. I – I always have. I’ve wanted to talk to you for years, but I . . . I’m not good at . . .” he gestured at his entire self, as if to say everything about him was an obstacle.

               “That’s why Michael brought me to the show tonight,” he said. “He knew I’ve wanted to talk to you forever. And I finally got to.”

               Alex stared, his expression unreadable. For a terrifying moment, Max wondered if he saw through the charade. Then he said, “You like me?”

               He said it more like a statement, a dare. Max could only nod once, gripping his notebook so tightly his knuckles turned white.

               Then he saw it. The doubt and suspicion behind Alex’s eyes. Alex sighed and kept walking. “Then let’s see how long,” he said, “until you give up, too.”

               *

               Max Evans stared. A lot.

               Alex was not new to people watching him. Everyone was usually curious about the youngest of the Manes brothers until they realized just how different and unapproachable Alex was, and then their curiosity’s limit showed.

               But the longer Max stared, the more curious he seemed to become. If he wasn’t glancing at Alex’s hair or eyeliner, he was looking at Alex’s bracelets, the rings on his fingers, the drawings on his shirt, his necklace, his nail polish.

               Alex felt like he was being studied. It was weird. He wished Michael was here to get Max to stop staring. He wished he could snap at Max to look away, but the guy was like a walking cinnamon roll. It was impossible to get angry at him without feeling bad.

               When Alex ordered his Neapolitan ice cream, Max not only insisted on paying for it, but offered a spoon of his own lemon sherbet cup for Alex to try.

               “Don’t you have, like, hundreds of other friends you could be spending Friday night with?” Alex finally asked.

               “Just my brother and sister,” Max confessed, picking at his sorbet. “Hey, since it’s Saturday tomorrow, y-you want to do something?” Then, as if it was an afterthought, added, “Together.”

               “No,” Alex grumbled around his spoon.

               “Why not?”

               “Because I always spend Saturdays with Michael,” he said, and immediately longed for Michael again. He wondered if he was having a lot more fun than Alex was right now. He tried not to think any harder about where Michael might be.

               “Oh,” Max said quietly. Alex glanced at him and saw that he was awkwardly tipping the melted part of his sherbet into his mouth. His lips twitched before he quickly schooled his features.

               He thought that would be the end of that conversation, but then Max asked, “If he cancels, you wanna do something?”

               Alex frowned. “Why would you think he’d cancel?”

               “Just . . .” he shrugged. “He kinda does what he wants, you know?”

               “Michael never cancels on me,” Alex bit back.

               He nodded, but wouldn’t look at Alex again. “Sorry.”

               Alex faltered. There it was, that guilt again. Saturdays belonged to him and Michael. He didn’t want anyone else coming along. He continued quietly eating his ice cream. At least maybe now Max would know to give up this ridiculous chase.

               “Well, maybe Sunday then?”

               Alex blinked and looked up. “W-What?”

               Max was smiling nervously, swirling the contents of his sherbet. “There’s – well, there’s this museum for fine art pieces. I – I heard it’s really cool, I’ve been meaning to go, but Isobel and Michael don’t really . . . like paintings and sculptures.” He shook his head. “Sorry, I know you must not either, I – I don’t know why I thought you would –”

               “Paintings?” Alex couldn’t help but ask. “Like Potthast? And Einaudi?”

               Max blinked. “Y-You know about them?”

               “I mean,” Alex scrunched his shoulders. “I’m not an idiot. I love any artist who pours themselves into their work. It’s” – he blushed – “inspiring.”

               Max perked up. “Right?! I’d do anything to be a writer, you know? Seeing people love something as much as I love books, it kind of makes me feel like . . .”

               “Like it all has to mean something,” Alex finished, smiling to himself. “I can’t love it this much for nothing.”

               Max huffed a laugh. He looked surprised, his cheeks tinted pink. “Yeah! Yeah, exactly . . .”

               Neither of them said anything for the next minute. Alex rubbed the sole of his shoe against the pavement and cleared his throat.

               “I mean,” he finally said, “I guess . . . if I’m really not doing anything Sunday . . . I can come. B-But only if Michael’s coming, too! I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

               Max didn’t say anything, and Alex chanced a glance at him to see he had a small smile.

               “What?” he demanded. “I said I’d – I’d come. M-Maybe!”

               Max nodded. “Er – can I have your number?”

               Don’t do it, Alex thought. Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it. Max was just a stranger.

               But he’s not a complete stranger, he reminded himself. He was Michael’s brother, and if Michael was letting him get this close to their tight little group, then he must’ve trusted that Alex was safe around him. And he could trust Michael more than anyone to look after him. He knew he could.

               “Yeah,” he said, handing Max his phone without looking at him. He saw Liz and Kyle watch him from across the street where they were twirling around a lamppost. They were tilting their heads and smirking, like they knew something he didn’t.

               Alex cleared his throat, and, as if his friends could hear him, added in a mutter, “Whatever.”

               Even Max smiled at that.

               *

               The next morning, Max woke to knocking on his window. He saw Michael and leapt out of bed, letting him in.

               “Can’t you knock like a normal person?”

               “Didn’t want to wake anyone else up,” he said. He smelled like he’d spent all of last night drinking, but his curls were wild, like he’d walked for hours in the desert instead of lying in someone’s bed.

               He nudged Max aside and sat cross-legged on his bed, shoes and all. “Tell me about Alex,” he said. “How’d last night go?”

               Max put his pillows up and slumped against them. “Fine. Good. Okay, I guess. He was mostly quiet the whole time. Did you have to blow him off like that?”

               Michael looked down and clenched his jaw. “Don’t remind me,” he grumbled. “I hated not being there. The whole time she was talking in my ear, I was trying not to get her to gag on me. I almost called Alex like fifty times!”

               He shook his head, as if eager to be rid of the memory. “Forget me. So he didn’t say anything the entire night?”

               “No,” Max said. “He did. I got him talking about music and other artists and stuff. I even asked him out to the museum today, just like you said.”

               Michael clapped him on the shoulder, happy. “Yeah? Max Evans, you sly dog!”

               Max couldn’t share in his enthusiasm. Would Michael have been so happy if he’d seen the look on Alex’s face last night? The way he defended him even when it was clear that his own heart was breaking?

               “Yeah,” Max said, rubbing his eye. “Said no.”

               “Well,” Michael shrugged a shoulder, “it’s not like he was going to fall in love with you in a few hours.”

               “Actually,” Max said, “he said he might be able to come tomorrow. He can’t today because you guys usually hang out on Saturdays.”

               Michael raised a brow. “Oh yeah?” He hummed, studying the blanket. After a long few minutes, he said, “I might . . . just call him and –”

               “Er –” Max cut him off, “he was pretty adamant that you would never cancel on him. Even after . . . you kind of already did.”

               Michael’s shoulders slumped, and he looked away. He muttered, “Yeah?”

               “Yeah, Michael,” Max sighed. “Look, can’t you just talk to him about this? It looks like he really cares about you, I’m sure if you told him what you heard –”

               “He’d hate me,” Michael said. “Imagine finding out that the one person you like knows you like them, and it makes them uncomfortable. Would you ever be able to look them in the face again?”

               Max pressed the heel of his palm into his eye. “And you’re sure you don’t like Alex like that? At all?”

               Michael looked up, holding his brother’s gaze. Max had never seen him so fierce. “I can’t date him, Max.”

               “Why not?” Max said. “You don’t think your relationship would survive a breakup?”

               “I can’t risk it,” he said. “I won’t.”

               Max almost pointed out that that wasn’t an answer, but decided not to. “Fine, well,” he laid back down and turned his back to Michael, trying to fall asleep again. “He’s not going anywhere with me on a Saturday, so see you tomorrow.”

               Michael did not leave, or say anything for a good long while. Then Max heard shuffling, and tapping. He peeked an eye open and saw Michael texting. Immediately, the look on Alex’s face last night hit him and he sat up.

               “What’re you doing?” he demanded, reaching for Michael’s phone. Michael kept himself out of reach. “Michael, I told you, if you cancel –”

               “I’m not canceling,” Michael murmured, brows pinched. “Just texting someone.” His finger hovered over the screen a moment before he hit send. “There,” he said, pocketing his phone. He didn’t look any happier than he’d been seconds ago. “Now Alex will be the one asking you out.”

               Max’s shoulders slumped. “What’d you do?”

               Michael didn’t answer, but the guilt on his face said it all. He was about to break Alex’s heart.

               *

               Alex had woken early. Last night he’d climbed through his window to his father banging on his door. He’d managed to sneak under the covers and play asleep the second Jesse had burst through, but he knew his luck wouldn’t last.

               It hadn’t mattered, because there was nothing that was going to keep him from an entire day with Michael. So he’d risen early, forgotten about breakfast at the risk of running into his father and being trapped inside again, and just had water from the hydro flask he kept by his bed – he didn’t care, he would eat later with Michael. He’d thrown on his favorite skull and crossbones t-shirt, his silver skull choker, and his rings.

               He felt silly fixing his hair in the mirror, running his hand through it so that the strands looked windswept. It wasn’t hard, as his hair rarely stayed down neatly. He’d learned to live with it.

               Michael wouldn’t ever like him like he liked girls, he knew that, but maybe . . . maybe some part of him might find Alex attractive. Maybe he might look at him differently without realizing that he was looking at him differently.

               It was dumb, but he could hope.

               At least, he had hoped until Michael met him in front of their favorite coffeeshop with his arm around Maria DeLuca’s shoulders. Alex had been holding two coffees, a caramel macchiato for him and a mocha for Michael, because he loved chocolate. He’d nearly dropped them at the sight.

               “Hey!” Michael called.

               “Uh – hey, Alex,” Maria smiled awkwardly. “Guerin,” she said, “I thought we were hanging out today.”

               “We are!” Michael smiled widely, taking his coffee and handing it to her. “With Alex! I always spend Saturdays with Alex.”

               “B-But . . .” Alex looked between them. He could feel his heart slowly sinking into his stomach. He pressed his lips together in a quick smile to Maria and tugged Michael aside by his sleeve. “What’s going on?” he whispered. “We always spend Saturdays together.”

               Michael tilted his head. “We are together.”

               “Alone,” Alex insisted. “Just you and me, remember? We’ve never invited anyone else. And . . . Guerin, Maria?”

               Michael laughed. He was laughing far too easily, and smiling way too much. He knew that of all people, bringing Maria would be a real sting. Didn’t he care about how Alex felt? And today of all days?

               “Come on, Alex,” he said. “I’m just trying to have a little fun here.”

               Alex felt like he’d just been slapped. “S-So being with me isn’t fun?”

               Michael rolled his eyes like he thought Alex was messing around. Alex, horrifically, thought he might cry.

               “Am I supposed to turn down a hot girl for you?” he said, taking Alex’s coffee and having a sip. “Seriously, so Maria’s coming. What’s the big deal, right? I mean, it’s not like we’re dating.”

               He reached out to pat Alex’s shoulder, but Alex flinched back, away from his touch. For a split second, Michael’s face fell and he looked mortified. But it was gone so quickly that Alex was sure he must’ve imagined it.

               He felt guilty, and dramatic, and pathetic. He felt cast aside, unwanted. All of that was okay, he was used to it. Maybe not from Michael, never from Michael, but he was used to it.

               So he did what he always did when he was reminded just how worthless he was. He forced his chin up, exhaled shakily, and kept his words steady. “I actually just remembered that Max wanted to go to a museum thing today.”

               Michael was still smiling. It felt wrong, but Alex couldn’t look at him too long to read into it. “Oh yeah?”

               “Yeah,” Alex took another few steps back. He couldn’t remember ever wanting to be away from Michael, but at this moment nowhere felt far away enough. “He sounded like he really wanted me to go with him, but I had to say no because of today.” He moved further away. “I really wanted to go, too, to be honest. It sounded cool.”

               “Yeah?” Michael sounded quieter. Maybe that was just because of the distance between them.

               “So if you’re going to hang out with someone else, then I guess it’s okay if I go, too?”

               Michael didn’t answer for a minute. “Yeah. No, yeah, that’s great. Works out for both of us, huh?”

               Alex turned around so Michael didn’t see his face fall. “Yeah,” he said, and began walking away. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

               Before Michael could say anything else, Alex pulled out his phone. He wouldn’t dial until he rounded the corner and was out of Michael’s sight. He fell back against the wall, his legs giving out under him. He held the phone to his forehead, breathing deeply.

               Kyle, he knew, was on a camping trip for the weekend with his dad. Liz was busy working shifts at the Crashdown.

               It’s okay, Alex told himself. It’s okay. You don’t need anybody. It’s okay.

               He may not have needed anyone, but he didn’t want to be alone today. So he dialed Max’s name, and held the phone to his ear.

               It rung twice, then Max answered. “Alex?” There was hesitation in his voice that made Alex blush. Was he not actually expecting Alex to call?

               “Er – hey,” Alex murmured, and rubbed his face with one hand. “Look, t-turns out I’m free today after all . . . If you . . . still want to go to the museum . . .”

               Max didn’t answer for a long few seconds.

               “O-Or not,” he said quickly, “doesn’t really matter to me, I just thought –”

               “Yeah!” Max said, “Yeah, I’m – sorry, I was changing. I’m ready to go when you are! Where do you want me to meet you?”

               Alex’s shoulders slumped. He felt a strange relief trickling through his chest, but it didn’t ease the weight on his heart. He muttered, “Wherever you want. Just text me the address.”

               He waited for Max’s okay, then hung up. He rested his chin on his knees as he waited for the message to come in, closing his eyes and promising himself that he would not cry.

                 Max didn’t live in a house. He lived in a mansion. The two story villa stretched out over a valley of cacti and desert flowers, the windows long and the front doors big enough to fit ten grown men standing side by side. Michael had once told Alex how he’d sneak in through his brother and sister’s windows, and Alex now had to wonder how.

               No sooner had he gotten to the door than Max came stumbling out, a bag thrown over his shoulder.

               “Hey,” he panted, “let’s go.”

               Without waiting for Alex’s greeting, he bodily turned Alex around and nudged him back toward the road. Alex was not new to being hidden away by boys who’d rather their parents not see him, but he’d already had his plans with Michael ruined, and was in no mood to humor any homophobia.

               “What?” he sighed. “Afraid mommy and daddy will know you asked out a guy?”

               Max blinked, surprised. He stopped. “What’re you talking about? I’m not trying to hide you from my parents.” He looked over his shoulder as if remembering they were supposed to be in a hurry, and frog-marched Alex away again.

               “Oh?” Alex rolled his eyes. He tried to ground his heels to make it harder for Max but had no will to do it. He was tired, but anything was better than spending the day curled up in bed, abandoned and pitiful. “The who are we trying to hide from?”

               “My . . . crap . . .” Max trailed off, and, following his gaze, Alex understood why. At the end of the road, her arms crossed, her purse hanging off one elbow, was Isobel Evans. She did not look happy.

               “Sneaking off?” she demanded. “Who do you think you are? Michael?”

               “Isobel,” Max warned. “Not now.”

               “Did you honestly think you could hide your date?” Isobel narrowed her eyes at Alex. “Huh. You weren’t kidding. It really is Alex Manes.” She reached a hand towards his face. “You were right, he is very pretty –”

               “Isobel,” Max slid in between Alex and Isobel, forbidding her from touching him. “I never said that.” Then to Alex, “I never said that. N-Not that you’re not – I mean, clearly you are –”

               He shook his head, and turned back to Isobel, his jaw clenched. “I’m not kidding, leave us alone.”

               Isobel was relentless, tilting her head over her brother’s shoulder, since she was almost as tall as he was. “Oh, what do you think I’m going to do, Max? Get out of the way, let me look at him!”

               “Alex,” Max said, his wary eyes on his sister, “I am so sorry about this.”

               “Sorry about what?” she demanded. “I didn’t do anything! Get out of the way, Max! Do you have any idea how rare it is to get a look at him this up close?!”

               “He’s not an octopus, Isobel!”

               “It’s a compliment!” She told Alex, “It’s a compliment, it means you’re really cute.”

               “We have to go,” Max insisted, fending off his sister’s reaching hands. “We have a thing at the museum and –”

                “What museum? Why didn’t you invite me? I want to come with you!”

               “NO!”

               “Why not?”

               “Because you’ll make it weird!”

               “What does that even mean? Scared I’ll embarrass you in front of your new boyfriend?”

               “Isobel!”

               Watching them, Alex should’ve been annoyed. But Max was being gentle with his sister, and Isobel’s eyes were so genuine that Alex could tell her curiosity was innocent and eager. There didn’t seem to be a malicious bone in either of their bodies.

               Crouching behind a building just half an hour ago, Alex had not thought he’d be able to smile for the rest of the day. Now, a giggle escaped his lips before he could help it.

               Max and Isobel stopped and stared, wide eyed. Max’s cheeks were tinted pink. Alex pretended not to notice.

               “Isobel,” he said wearily, “you want to come with us?”

               Isobel looked momentarily surprised, then pleased, a satisfied grin stretching across her pink lips. She lightly shouldered her way past Max and hooked her arm around Alex’s.

               “I like him,” Isobel said cheerfully, and pulled Alex down the road. Alex looked over his shoulder at Max, who blinked out of his haze and ran to catch up to them.

               “Why would you invite her?” Max murmured.

               Alex took one look at Isobel and smiled, something about her radiant demeanor an interesting contrast to the darkness he lived in. Maybe it was having a writer with him, maybe it was that he was kind of a writer himself, but he thought there was a fascinating story here between the three of them.

               To Max, however, he merely shrugged a shoulder and smirked.

               “Come on, Evans,” he said. “I wouldn’t want you to think this was a date.”

               Max again blushed, and Alex again pretended not to notice.

Ahhhh here it is!!! Finally!!!

I know only three to four people may enjoy this, but I wrote it mostly for me, so my expectations are low. Or, I should say, that’s how I’m trying to keep them. Don’t ask me how long until the next chapter comes up, this is just supposed to be fun. Any questions about updates shall be ignored.

That said, if you did enjoy it, comment! Tell me what you liked, if it was funny, angsty, if it’s not your kind of thing but you decided to give it a chance anyway - I love that stuff. And share/reblog. You may not have liked it, but maybe someone else really will!

#alex manes #max evans #sheriff manes #max x alex #sheriff manes fic #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #sheriff manes fanfic #sheriff manes fanfiction #tyler blackburn #nathan dean parsons

[ladykissingfish]

Under The Mistletoe with the Akatsuki // Part 2 // Itachi

Itachi Uchiha

Itachi stands under the little green plant, looking unsettled. It was explained to him that this is “just a fun game” but this just seems weird to him. However he doesn’t wish to alienate himself from the group, so he complies.

Deidara

His first instinct is to pull a bomb from his pocket and hurl it straight at Itachi’s lips, because “that’s the only ‘kiss’ the Uchiha bastard deserves, hm!” However he’s talked out of it by Konan who tells him that such a thing would make him a really bad sport. He scowls but accepts it. Itachi murmurs softly “You don’t have to kiss me if you don’t wish, Deidara.”; he says it nicely, but Deidara hears it as a challenge. “Ah?! You think I’m scared? You think I won’t kiss you?!” He rushes at Itachi, leans in, and kisses him so aggressively that he accidentally bonks Itachi’s forehead a good one, raising a small bump for both of them. Itachi will just sigh (he really doesn’t understand why, even after all this time, Deidara still seems to hate him so much) and quietly say “Thanks.” Deidara will react immediately, going “Thanks? What the hell are you thanking me for, Uchiha? Don’t tell me you’re in love with me now?” and he’ll keep teasing the brunette until Sasori comes and drags him away.

Sasori

Another person to kiss? Really? Sasori never kissed anyone other than his parents before his transformation, but now it’s gotten out of hand. Nevertheless ... he leans up and gives Itachi a quick peck to the lips. Itachi doesn’t react but Sasori draws back, startled. What is this?? As someone who grew up with a knowledge of herbs and healing, and as someone who makes his own poisons, Sasori has become an expert at identifying various chemicals by a simple taste. But Itachi’s lips tasted ... strange. Something unidentifiable, but Sasori recognizes as dangerous. Itachi is ill; his chemical balance is completely off. A moment passes between them where Sasori almost opens his mouth and questions this, but the look in Itachi’s eyes tell Sasori that he’s very aware that he’s sick ... but intends to do nothing about it. It makes Sasori feel a great deal of sadness; Itachi is a calm, intelligent young man, and a good friend ... but this is his choice. Hidan is nearby and he sees the way Sasori and Itachi are staring at each other, and misinterprets it, saying loudly “Looks like these two went totally gay for each other!”; Sasori lashes out and hits him with a poison dart. After all, no amount of poison will make the white haired nuisance die; but maybe it’ll shut him up for a while.

Hidan

LOUDLY protests against kissing Itachi. He was fine with it when it was Konan, but this ... “I don’t wanna make out with this ugly-ass homo!” But the others tell him he has to. He’ll go into Kakuzu’s room and get his Sake, taking several healthy swigs before coming back out to where Itachi waits. The alcohol hitting him in full effect ((it was clearly more than a FEW swigs)) and starts telling Itachi some pretty awkward things (“Damn wait you’re actually kinda hot; with that long hair you kinda look like a bitch.”) and, grabbing hold of Itachi’s neck, pulls him close and plants a very sloppy open-mouthed kiss on him. The others make noises of disgust; alcohol or not he took it way too far. Hidan has the audacity to try and go for a second kiss before Kakuzu extends his tentacles and grabs him, dragging him away. The others ask Itachi if he minds going to brush his teeth before they have their turns, to which he heartily agrees.

Kakuzu

Two people in and this “game” has already gotten on his nerves. But he likes Itachi; he’s one of the few he’s never had an issue or an argument with. A kiss on the lips would have been beyond strange, so he settles on a light brush on Itachi’s forehead. The others tease him, but Itachi actually enjoyed the gesture; being kissed on the forehead reminded him of the one time in Itachi’s life that his own father did the same, after Itachi successfully learned a new jutsu. It’s a nostalgic feeling and a comforting one, which Itachi will hold on to for the rest of the day. Kakuzu, however, has slightly different feelings. As somebody who knows extensive medical jutsu, he took note of how overly warm Itachi’s forehead was. That, and, looking closely, the pronounced flush of his cheeks. It’s somewhat obvious that Itachi is sick; but Kakuzu has always seen the kid as capable of taking care of himself, so he won’t question Itachi on whatever may be wrong with him. He does, however, make a mental note to start slipping a herbal immune system booster into the tea that Itachi drinks so often.

Konan

Like Itachi did for her, Konan gives Itachi a warm hug, rather than a kiss. Her arms circled around his waist make her aware of how thin he is, how young. It’s so difficult for her to believe that somebody who possesses Itachi’s raw intelligence hasn’t even seen his 25th year of life yet. She tries several times during the embrace to let go, but Itachi is reluctant to release her. As with Kakuzu, Konan’s warmth reminds him of being hugged by his mother, something that he greatly misses. Eventually he does let go, only this time he follows up the hug by kissing HER, gently, on the cheek.

Tobi

“Hiya, Itachi-san! Is it Tobi’s turn to give you a kissy?” Itachi merely nods and watches Tobi approach. Unlike with any of the others, Itachi tenses up, and he has to fight himself on the urge to activate his sharingan. Something about Tobi, this tall, simplistic, childlike fool ... sets off ALL of Itachi’s warning bells. As with Konan, Tobi starts to remove his mask just enough to expose his lips ... but Itachi abruptly holds up his hand, stopping him. “No,” Itachi says quietly, and instead extends his arm for a handshake. Itachi can feel the energy coming off of Tobi; Itachi’s unexpected gesture has left the masked one a mixture of surprise, fear, and ... anger. But Tobi can’t afford to show this, to everyone else in the room who are already confused watching them. “Awww; are ya shy, Itachi-san?”, he’ll ask out-loud, before pumping Itachi’s hand up and down in an exaggerated gesture. He’ll walk away calmly, but inside, he’ll be in turmoil; because in those brief few seconds, Tobi has been able to sense it: Itachi had come within a hair of trying to kill him. Could it be that he’d figured out — but no. No, no. Surely just a mistake, right? Maybe Itachi really WAS shy, and by the time it was Tobi’s turn, his tolerance limits had been reached. A plausible explanation ... but was it the right one?

Zetsu

He sees Itachi standing under the mistletoe and thinks to himself, that man looks delicious. He’s eaten a lot of people in his time, but never once somebody who possessed the sharingan. Would that visual prowess make the meat taste better? His mouth starts to water; Itachi is fairly young and therefore should be soft and delectable. He stands there staring at Itachi until somebody (likely Kisame) asks him what’s up with that weird look on his face. Not wanting the others to think he’s any more of a freak than they already do, he steps up and kisses Itachi’s cheek — and takes the opportunity to flick out his tongue and lick the man’s skin. Saltier than expected, but warm, with a faint scent of tea. He quickly walks away before he loses control, and goes out into the night to find others to fulfill his awakened appetite.

Pein

Pein welcomed Itachi into the Akatsuki when the latter was still a very young man. Over the past few years he’s watched the way he’s grown and matured, and he’s come to think of him almost as one would think of a son. Pein will smooth Itachi’s hair back and lightly kiss his forehead, and then lightly pat his head, before going on his way.

Kisame

He sees Itachi standing there, and his heart jumps into his throat. Itachi ... is a level of light and of perfection that someone like Kisame doesn’t dare to touch. He stands back and watches the others have their turns. He’s gotten to know this man pretty closely these past few years, and can often tell what he’s thinking or feeling just by glancing at his face. Right now, what Itachi was feeling, was Patience. The kissing game is just another thing he’s enduring, not particularly liking or disliking it, simply getting through. Kisame thinks that he should spare Itachi and go quietly to his room, so that Itachi can return to his own. But Itachi sees Kisame start to walk away, and actually calls out to him, stopping him. Hearing his name makes Kisame’s heart thump even faster. But WHY? Itachi was simply his young friend, for goodness sake. An intelligent, thoughtful partner. A — “Hey shark man, you gonna slobber on red-eyes here or what?” Kisame glares at Hidan before walking quickly up to Itachi, he takes a deep breath and leans in to kiss his cheek— but Itachi turns his head at the last second, and Kisame finds their lips are touching. Kisame is not sure of how much time is passing; the clock seems to stand still for this moment. Itachi’s lips are as soft as flower petals, his hair smooth and silky as it brushes against Kisame’s cheek. Itachi eventually breaks the kiss, and, to Kisame’s shock, he’s smiling. Not the smirks or grins that Kisame has come to know, but a real, tooth-bearing smile. Seeing that expression makes Itachi look younger than ever to him, and Kisame ... feels flustered. Although there’s no reason to feel flustered. He’d only shared a kiss with his friend, that’s all. Both of them look at each other a few moments longer and then Itachi, his “sentence” over, says his Goodnights to the members and goes to his room. Eventually Kisame (and everyone else) does the same.

#the akatsuki #under the mistletoe #kissing #itachi uchiha #tobi #zetsu #konan #pein #kisame #hidan #kakuzu #deidara #sasori

[fernlom]

Alright gays gather around for your new anthem. Why this song? Simply because the singers voice is of an unidentifiable gender and is possibly singing about a girl that makes them feel happy and at peace. Also it slaps.

#Spotify

[fandomlurker]

A Ponderous Rewatch: Battle for the Planet and Cameos

You know, I keep trying to be minimal with the amount of images I put in these posts, but I think it’s kind of a losing battle…especially when it comes to episodes animated by TMS like the second one coming later on today. I can’t help it, some of the expressions and poses are just too good to not be shared.

In any case, let’s begin with one very small cameo appearance in “Space Probed”:

Our little duo have apparently found themselves abducted by aliens, only to be kept in lab conditions much like the one on Earth at ACME Labs. This is one of those times where I wish I could know the production order of these episodes and not just the air date order… Why? Well, because this small cameo could potentially line up really well with an upcoming episode. Just keep that in mind for now.

With that out of the way, we move on to our next full skit:

And we begin with the Brain expositing to Pinky about how he came up with the plan for this episode.

“Halloween, Pinky: 1938. Mercury Radio Theatre presented an adaptation of H. G. Wells’ ‘War of the Worlds’ that was so realistic, people actually fled the cities believing that creatures from Mars were attacking the Earth. It proved that radio was a powerful tool…and now, Pinky, the advance of technology has brought us an even more powerful tool. Do you know what that is?”

Before we move on, how many of you reading this have heard about this? And how many of you know that this is actually an incident that happened in real life? Yes, people actually fled their homes after hearing this broadcast. Not a lot of people, of course. Not by a long shot. Most just made panicked phone calls to their local police station or to the radio station itself to find out what was really going on. The incident also wasn’t nationwide or anything like that, it was quite local. If anything, the radio play caused much more outrage after the fact than initial panic.

Another amusing anecdote is that Orson Welles was the man who directed, narrated, and played a main character in the broadcast. For those of you who may not be in the know, although Brain was initially based on animator and writer Tom Minton at Warner Brothers, Brain’s voice actor Maurice LaMarche based his voice on Orson Welles. Or, well, as Mr. LaMarche puts it: “The Brain is 70 percent Welles, 20 percent Vincent Price, and I don't know, there's another 10 percent of something else in there. I don't know what. Some people think it's Peter Lorre. I don't know what it is.”.

Strong references aside, I’m betting most of you can see the massive holes in the Brain’s plan already. Hoo boy…

“Umm… The rubber band?”

“The workings of your mind are a mystery to me, Pinky.”

“Ooo! I love a good mystery, Brain!”

You know, this little sequence with Brain nonchalantly stretching the rubber band while walking away from Pinky and Pinky determinedly holding on until Brain lets go off camera and sends Pinky flying is… Well, I don’t know what it is about it, but it’s kind of cute in a weird slapstick way? Like, it’s hard to tell if Brain did that on purpose to send Pinky flying for not understanding his plan…or if he actually wanted Pinky to follow him and tried to lead him to where he was walking but Pinky thought it was some kind of tug-o-war game and Brain got exasperated and let go of the rubber band.

Either way, Pinky doesn’t seem to mind.

“Television, Pinky, is our new tool!”

“We will pirate the airwaves and stage a hoax like ‘War of the Worlds’!”

Brain, you’re very good with that lasso. I’m impressed!

“Three cameras, Brain?”

“Yes… A technique pioneered by the great Desi Arnaz. And with them we will scare the people of the cities, leaving no resistance behind. We will have taken over the world!”

Well, Brain, that technique first being used by Desi Arnaz is a myth (it was more than likely actually pioneered by Jerry Fairbanks around 1947), but I’m going to give you a pass on this because you likely couldn’t fact check this very well at the time.

I do have to give Brain credit for being as dramatic as possible while announcing his plan, though. He really does know how to put on a show.

“Egad, Brain, brilliant!”

And Pinky is, as usual, full of praise and extremely excited about the plan. Look at him clapping and hopping around, aww… I’m starting to think that half the reason Brain goes through with these long, expository explanations of his plans to Pinky despite Pinky not quite following along a lot of the time is just to impress Pinky. Brain needs reassurance and Pinky always provides.

“Oh! Oh, wait, no, no…”

“Why would they be scared of us? We’re so small and we’re practically the size of mice, Brain.”

“We are mice, Pinky.”

“Oh, right! Well, there you are, then. Eh heh heh…”

…Okay, so, Pinky also tends to deflate the praise a bit when pointing out potential flaws in the plan like this, but it’s the initial thought that counts.

Yeah, I know, Brain. I know. But Pinky really is trying to be helpful.

“It’s not a question of size, Pinky. It’s a question of scale! Watch the monitor.”

“*gasp* Zounds, Brain! You’re gigantic!”

“Television, Pinky: The Great Deceptor!”

“Narf~…”

No, you aren’t seeing things. Pinky just…just stands there in front of the TV looking at live footage of a close-up of Brain and sighs in awe and affection while clasping his little hands together. I don’t even think I need to make a “Fellas, is it gay to--?” joke here. All that’s missing is little hearts appearing around his head.

We cut to a little while later, where the duo has everything set up for their broadcast. It looks like Pinky must have done the lettering for their props, since it actually looks decent and nothing like Brain’s scrawlings. Yes, I’m going to continue roasting Brain’s terrible penmanship. It amuses me.

“How is my disguise, Pinky?”

“OH! Is that you, Brain?!?”

“You flatter me, Pinky. Now, throw the switch and let us begin…the Battle for the Planet!”

Title drop! Also, aww. To be fair, Brain, I’m not sure Pinky was intending to be flattering so much as he was actually unsure if that really was you or not. But the fact that you took it as flattery is very telling, I think.

Pinky throws the switch, and the plan is officially underway!

According to the Animaniacs wiki, these people bear a striking resemblance to Elmyra’s family. If that’s what was intended, this is quite the early omen for the horrible “Pinky, Elmyra, and the Brain” spin-off that was made after the regular PatB spin-off. I don’t think I’m going to fully cover that show in the far future. It’s not the fun kind of terrible…it’s just terrible.

Oh hey, they were watching Family Matters! Too bad this is many, many years before they could bear witness to Dark Urkle Tribute.

And there’s Ralph, enjoying coffee and a doughnut.

And…some TV station broadcast folks. It kinda bothers me that these two basically have the same model except for different hair colours.

“We interrupt your regular broadcast to bring you this important news bulletin…”

“What is that?!”

“Someone’s pirated the TV lines!”

“Scientists have just reported that a large, unidentified flying object seems to be heading towards Earth. There is no cause for alarm…”

“…But there probably will be.”

Subtle, Brain.

Oh, hi, Warners! You certainly picked a good time to escape tonight.

“We take you now to our satellite view of the planet, perhaps to catch a glimpse of this fearful courier of the unknown.”

Cue Pinky making ridiculous “shoosh” and “shoom” and “weee!~” noises. Very convincing.

“I’ve just received word that the UFO is about to crash land nearby. There should be a great explosion!”

“I said, THERE SHOULD BE A GREAT EXPLOSION!”

“Hmm? Oh! OH, right, Brain! Narf!”

Nice blep, pinky.

Somehow, people watching the broadcast are still terrified. I’ve gotta admit that I didn’t expect this plan to go this well for this long.

…Okay, maybe I spoke too soon.

“Sorry, Brain…”

“…We’ll go live to the crash site momentarily.”

He says before near-instantly cutting to the “crash site”, still in the same disguise. Brain, honey, I know you’re probably trying to reduce broadcast downtime so that the audience doesn’t start to question what they’re seeing, but you do know that quick cuts like this ruin the illusion of this being a live broadcast…right?

Oh, who am I kidding? Of course he doesn’t know that. As usual, Brain has tunnel vision and expects his plans to go one certain way, and any details that don’t fit his internal narrative are discarded or not even thought about.

Just let me slide on in…

“I’m reporting to you live from the crash site and I…I’m at a loss for words. Can we get a shot of this very frightening scene?”

He’s right. That’s the most frightening…ly obvious cardboard spaceship I have ever seen.

But okay, I love these tiny prop improvisations they had to do. The bare cardboard wings taped to some kind of spray can for the body of the ship, a stray water cooler cup for the cone, test tubes for the thrusters, random little sewing pins for some kind of antenna, a dirty beige blanket to simulate soil for the crash zone… It’s so hastily cobbled together yet so goddamn cute.

Ralph still seems convinced that this is real, though that isn’t saying much.

“I am now positioned close to the…well, I can only assume that this is a vehicle from outer space, its occupants here to destroy the Earth.”

“Oooo!~ OoooOOOooo!~”

“Wait! There is a strange noise emanating from inside. Something seems to be coming out of the ship!”

They made a glove into an alien space suit with a tiny peephole to accommodate Pinky’s face and they fashioned a little belt from something for it, aaaaa! This is so adorable! Look at Pinky trying to be scary! He’s just all >:B throughout this entire scene.

BUG FOGGER

WARNING

CONTENTS UNDE

EXTREME PRESS

GAS

I’m wondering why they couldn’t label it as “bug spray”. I’ve honestly never heard of it being called “bug fogger”. Is that an American thing? (Also: Tiny sandbag wall!)

“Oh my! It’s hideous! Ladies and gentlemen, I can hardly describe this terrifying creature before me, except to say: Run for your lives! Go on! Empty the cities! Leave everything behind!”

“I…I don’t know how long I can stay on the air. I’ll try to get to our aerial view in chopper five!”

Okay, it seems even Elmyra’s family and the broadcast folks are still under the impression that this is actually happening. And Brain instantly cuts again to the aerial view. Brain, I think you’ve been watching too many movies.

“Chopper five, high above the city. The horrible creatures from Mars…invading…destroying everything in their path! Oh, the humanity!”

Since this is a still image the impact is lessened but Brain is rapidly beating his fist against his side to simulate the sound of helicopter blades and it’s actually pretty effective. Well done, lil guy, I never would’ve thought to do something like that. Your foley work is great!

The milk carton buildings still have straws in them to make chimneys! There’s little Chinese takeout boxes as buildings, too! I’m so charmed by all these quaint ways they’ve made their props.

Also, the Pinky-alien has apparently grown to kaiju size now, somehow. Brain, you’ve got to make your hoax at least a little consistent!

“This is no hoax, ladies and gentlemen. I urge you to run for your lives while you can! We’re not making this up just so we can take over the world!”

Goddamnit, Brain. You are the worst liar in the history of forever.

“Oh no! It’s heading this way! Run for your lives! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!”

I just thought these cowering poses Brain did were funny and cute. He is so small and vulnerable…

So Pinky starts to menace the camera itself and—

—Oops. This isn’t going to go well.

Poor, poor Pinky.

“We did it, Pinky. Brilliant performance!”

Holy shit, sincere praise from Brain! I’m sure Pinky will treasure it.

“Undoubtedly, the population has fled in fear from their ‘terrifying enemy’, HA!”

Umm. About that, Brain…

“Let us make haste…to The White House!”

Brain, you may want to at least wait a little while so that people can actually—

Ouch.

WOW, who needs Twitter in this universe when the press is this fast?

“’Battle for the Planet is a comedy smash… World laughs together. Stay home for this one!’”

“Pinky, are you pondering what I’m pondering?”

“Well, I think so, Brain…but if we didn’t have ears, we’d look like weasels.”

“[sighs] No, Pinky… Our hoax…no one went anywhere! No one fled the cities! They found us…humorous.”

If it helps any, boys, I also found you incredibly adorable.

“Where are you going, Brain?”

“Back to our cage, Pinky. We must plan for tomorrow night.”

“Why? What are we going to do tomorrow night?”

I like how Pinky is at first concerned about Brain’s mood and then we he sees that Brain is just walking home to plan for tomorrow night he’s bouncing on his tip-toes after him.

“The same thing we do every night, Pinky: Try to take over the world!”

TO BE CONTINUED because apparently Tumblr finds this post too long otherwise,

#Pinky and the Brain #PatB #Battle for the Planet

[hungryhyena]

two new gays bc im gay and i love gays and being gay

tiefling guy is finch, he’s a wildlife artist/researcher. he usually travels with adventurers so he can draw cool monsters without said cool monsters killing him. one day he gets a message about an unidentified creature living in a nearby ruin, and can’t find anyone to go with him, so he saddles up his horse and goes alone.

he doesn’t find the critter for several days, only seeing it in glimpses or silhouette. while he’s wandering the ruins, he hears a loud noise, and, running to investigate, finds it, injured and pinned under a crumbled chunk of wall. it’s terrified, but it lets him help, and he’s shocked when it thanks him.

the critter is not a critter but a guy. the guy was an illithid experiment, and he has no memory of anything before that. he was bullied by the illithids, the other experiments, and adventurers, and no one’s ever been nice to him until finch. they talk while finch patches him up and for the first time in his memory, he feels comfortable with another person.

he has no name, so after a while finch gives him one. he loves the stars, having only ever lived underground, and his fur is pitch black with a slight iridescence, so he starts calling him starling

after starling’s healed up, finch leads him back to his town, which is full of all kinds of critters. he’ll be safe and happy there, and finch is like, ok cool let’s get back to work. wait. why do i not want to leave. why do i only want to be with him. hmm i bet this isn’t a gay thing!

(it’s a gay thing)

so finch stays long enough to help starling settle in, then starts teaching him to read and draw and whatever and ‘a couple weeks’ turns into ‘a couple months’ and they’re getting closer. starling has never had a friend so he’s really attached. finch is just kinda confused.

then idk but its real gay!

[hotsexydorks]

Sheriff breeding up his slut boy/s/ (Stiles, Scott or Derek or all of them, that’s up to you) and filling them up with his cum so their belly(ies) and become his “pregnant” slut(s)/boy(s)/wife(wives). Maybe even collecting his cum in a thermos to keep it warm for his slut boy(s) can keep drinking and filling themselves up when he’s not around. (It’s up to you if you want to have the sheriff’s partner/s/ underage or use a/b/o verse for the large amount of cum sheriff needs)

I went with a fae type creature and a magic coin. This one is a lot longer than usual so I’m linking the chapter at the beginning cause sometimes it’s not the easiest to read here. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14053365/chapters/66380512

Daddy’s Boys : Sheriff/Scott/Stiles/Derek

John didn’t know what was happening anymore. This whole thing was out of hand. He never expected one little thought would have exploded into this. But it wasn’t just one little thought; it was one idea, one dirty secret, and one magically charged artefact. Together they made the perfect, or rather the wild formula for a life altering experience. 

~~~

It all started one night in the middle of John’s late night shift. He was on patrol driving around. There had been reports of unidentified people walking the streets at night that could have spelt something more sinister if it had been left alone. 

Usually the deputies had the job of patrolling but on this particular night John had felt cooped up. He needed to get out of the station and drive around, back on the pavement and looking around. If he was being honest John had been having a hard time of it lately. 

Not only had it been difficult raising Stiles on his own, being a single father, but it was made all the worse when he found out the cause of Stiles’ hijinks and latest troubles. Wolves. Magic. Hunters. Supernatural things, all stuff that belonged in the fantasy story and games he used to buy for him. 

Learning it was all real and that it was very much in his town was a shock to John but the more he knew the more things around town started to make sense. People appearing out of nowhere, people disappearing, accidents and incidents that were previously unexplained all started to somehow make sense. 

Even though he was aware of the world around him the more John knew about it the more confusing it seemed. Everything was on its head, nothing stayed the same for very long. Whenever he thought he had the grasp of all the things that were going on they changed and he was left even more confused than before.

But part of him was still relieved to know that all of this wasn’t the case of a bad work force, just some bad forces in play. Forces that now had their sights set on a little mischief. 

Driving around the roads and streets were practically empty. There weren't many people out, some joggers, a few people finishing their night shift but there was someone out that caught John’s attention. Down the road his attention was grabbed by the bright white of plastic bags either side of a small figure. 

Pulling up to the person John rolled down the window to the car finding an old lady carrying her groceries. 

“Excuse me ma'am.” Peering his head out he wasn’t sure where she was heading since there didn’t seem to be a house on this stretch. “Would you like a ride to where you’re heading? Those bags look heavy and it looks like an awful long way to walk somewhere.”  

The old lady looked at John for a moment before a small smile grew on her face. “Why thank you child, that would be delightful.” She said accepting his offer. 

Stepping out of the car John fixed the door open and went to help the lady with her stuff. Securing her and her belongings in the back seat he closed the door and set off once they were ready. 

“My house is just a straight line from here.” She piped up before John had the chance to ask her where they were going. 

“You got it.” He said smiling. As he drove down the road he glanced back at the old lady who was staring out the window. “You know, there have been a few calls about suspicious people out and about lately. So you should try doing your shopping before it gets dark.” John said as a forewarning, he couldn’t say there were monsters that roamed the town so you should lock your doors but this was the next best thing. 

“Thank you child, but that won’t be an issue. My grandchildren usually do the shopping but they weren’t able to today. Oh that’s my house right there.” She said abruptly as a house came into view. Pointing at it through the window she singled out an old house standing alone on the side of the road. 

“That one right there.” She confirmed as John pulled the car up to the side walk. Helping her out he helped load the bags up the stairs to the porch. Turning on his heel he was about to bid her farewell when she stopped him. 

“I don’t have much to thank you but.. I have this lucky coin I’ve had since I was a child. I got it as a little girl and I’ve held on to it ever since. I want you to have it. “ Reaching into her purse she produced a small copper plated coin. Shiny and well tended to. 

“There’s no need -- “ John began to protest in vain, the woman already pushing the coin into his hand. 

“No, no. I insist. It’s a token of gratitude from me to you. For helping an old woman. I hope it blesses you as much as it has for me.” She smiled and picked up her bags as she left the man alone on the porch. 

Shaking his head with a smile John could add this to one of the weirdest ‘Thank You’ gifts he had ever gotten. Giving the coin a quick look over John pocketed it and went on his way. From the car he glanced back up as he drove away looking back at the house with the rear view mirror but he didn’t see the old lady, she had probably just gone inside. 

His night patrol hadn’t turned up anything out of the ordinary but he was at least grateful for that. It meant that it wouldn’t be too much of a busy night for the rest of the force. 

Taking the car home John undid the top button of his shirt as soon as he pulled into his driveway. The lights were off in the house but the two cars by the house told him all he needed to know. 

Scott was over which meant one of two things, that either they were gone out or they were asleep upstairs after hanging out. 

When John went into the dark house he got his answer. With food in the kitchen and a note on the table John knew that the boys were upstairs sleeping. At least that’s what he assumed for being so late in the night. 

Without checking the older man grabbed himself a drink of scotch on the rocks. What Stiles didn’t know about his drinking wouldn’t hurt him. After all it was just one drink, John had much bigger secrets under his belt than just his occasional drink. Like his sexuality for example. 

His own Bisexuality hadn’t been a secret in his marriage; it was actually something they had both been open and receptive to since the beginning of their relationship. Claudia was aware of his attraction and his previous experiences that he had had with men before they got together. However as John’s career and the attention paid to him grew it became less of an open topic and one that soon became a shared secret between John and his late wife. 

With being the only one that knew of his own attraction John continued to keep the information private, not even telling Stiles about it. Which made all of Stiles’ attempts of trying to pass off as gay during times of trouble all the more ironic already knowing that his son took after him.  Of course that wasn’t something he divulged to his son but that’s what made the secret all the more entertaining to him. 

As John continued making his way through the house he went through various stages of undressing. With a head start on the buttons meant that his shirt was the first to go. Opening the shirt fully left his white t-shirt underneath on display. Following his shirt then came the belt. 

Unbuckling his belt and letting it loosen on his waist the cold metal and jingled with each step he took through the quiet dark house. It wasn’t long before he found himself in his study room downstairs, leaning back in his comfortable chair at his desk John folded his head back. Stretching out his neck and following it with a deep sigh of relief from being off of his feet and able to relax. 

His calloused work hands ran across his face. His fingers reached to the inner corners of his eyes wiping away any tiredness before running down his neck and resting on his chest. The back of the chair moved and hinged as John leaned against him. Supporting his body while he leaned back the chair shifted with the slightest of noises. 

Reaching out with a hand the Sheriff picked up his cooled drink and sipped at it again. His free hand drifted downward as he stared off into the darkness he was sitting in. Sinking lower John found himself resting his right hand over his crotch. Cupping his own flattened bulge the man reached further in and began freeing himself from his underwear prison. 

Pulling his soft member and drooping balls away from his body John could feel the overwhelming freedom. Being a public figure John had learned that a large bulge only drew attention, the wrong type of attention for his job. Something John had learned from the beginning of his time on the force when his bulge garnered him a lot of attention from the holding cells. 

Finally free John couldn’t stop how his hand squeezed at his soft length. Touching himself with his eyes closed as he just enjoyed the feeling of his hand on his cock. It had been so long since he had even thought about pleasuring himself that his body was taking the rare opportunity. With a drink in hand, a relaxing man, and a quiet house, his body was taking any chance that it was given to remind him that he was a man that enjoyed his own body.

He was a man that was craving the touch of another man. The smell, the roughness, the bond. John had always thought that it felt different and right now it was what he wanted. Sinking back in his chair he closed his eyes, his hand taking more and more of his growing cock. Stroking himself and feeling his own heat grow. This was now far beyond just fixing himself it was about getting his fix. 

John didn’t want anything loving and slow right now, all he wanted was a hole to fill. A fat ass with round cheeks. Something tight and hot around his cock. Throughout all his sexual life John had never been one watching porn. Of course he had dipped into that world from time to time but John was more of a man of his own imagination, and right now that imagination of his was picturing a round fat ass bouncing on his cock .

The fleeting feeling of pleasure soon became more of a want and a need. The picture in his mind grew until it was more of a mental scene. Seeing a bent over male pushing back and working his lower half over the older man’s cock. The other’s body was fit and tight, accentuated by the curve of the round ass. As John found himself falling deeper and deeper into the illusion the stronger and more clearer the image became. 

The ass that he was now picturing over his cock going back and forth on his shaft started to become less and less like an illusion. “Fuck..Wish I had an ass like that on my cock right now.” He whispered to himself. It felt so right and there wasn’t anything to stop him. But then something changed.

Scott. It was Scott’s ass that he was imagining over him. But now he was too far lost to stop. He let out a deep moan, indulging himself more in the fantasy. The other’s body formed more solidly until he began actively thinking about the younger male. It was true that John had always cared for the boy, but even he couldn’t deny that the way he had grown and filled out was anything but delightful to see. Coupled with his own inante blindness to his bodies’  own form made his charm and body an attractive combination. 

Sheriff Stilinski would have been lying if he had said he never had looked at Scott that way. Even if it were just a passing glance he had to admit himself that it was an amazing looking ass. An ass that just happened to be attached to one Scott McCall. 

A Scott McCall that wasn’t in his head but actually bouncing up and down in his lap. Ass pushed out with an arched back while the wolf had his own moans spilling from his mouth. 

“Scott?” John managed to croak out while watching the tight hole swallow his fat cock with ease. From the lack of shine on his cock he surmised that it hadn’t been all that long since this started but still he was more confused as to how it started at all in the first place. 

“Hey Sheriff. I didn’t hear you come in earlier.” Scott glanced back over his shoulder, his body continuing to bounce gleefully on the other’s bare cock as if it weren’t anything strange. 

“Never mind that Scott. What are you doing !?” The man had put away his drink and now reached out taking a hold of Scott’s hips in his hands. Holding them while he tried to push the other off but when he tried he found that not even that went to plan. 

Instead of lifting off of the man’s cock Scott leaned forward, putting his body over the desk he held his ass on the cock. Hole fluttering and teasing the thick hot cock. 

“Me? I’m welcoming you back home. Isn’t that what you wanted?” Scott asked as he batted the older man’s hands away. Pushing them aside he had his range of motion back. Hinging at his hips he started to bounce once again on the other’s cock with a small smile. 

John should have stopped it, he should have stopped it before it even happened but he couldn’t. Mesmerised by the way Scott’s cheeks jiggled over his cock he was stunned. Hands reached out again but this time instead of going to stop him John grasped the other’s cheeks and gave them a firm squeeze. 

“Fuck, wish I could have this ass ready on my dick every time after work.” John mused out loud in passing. With another wish leaving John’s lips Scott felt a jolt of pleasure that made the wolf drool and drone lowly. 

With a goofy smile and more powerful movements Scott threw his head back. His voice spiking every now and then from how good it felt. Bouncing harshly he smiled back at the man. “I’ll be there for Daddy whenever you want.” 

John’s cock twitched at Scott's play. He growled deeply and surged forward. Pushing Scott over the table he started to fuck the wolf’s fat ass. Slapping his heavy full balls with each thrust. Every single one was just as powerful as the first.

Getting wetter and messier the two started to sweat as John continued to grind and pound away at Scott’s ass. He was long past fighting it and was now enjoying it for all that this was worth. 

“You like that baby? You like Daddy pounding that fat ass?” 

“Yess! Fuck me Daddy”

John wasn’t one to disappoint his public. Taking his new hole through the works he fucked Scott all around his office. In his chair, over his desk, on the floor, against the door. They fucked all through the night until the morning. Never stopping for more than a sip of water. 

Working out years of pent up sexual energy John was huffing and sweating over Scott’s body each time. It was after the first time he filled Scott’s ass up with cum did another wish leave his lips. 

“Wish I had the energy and cum to fuck you nonstop.” Off handedly, he chuckled thinking nothing of it. That was until he felt his cock harden again and his body surge with energy once more as if they hadn’t been fucking for the last thirty minutes. After that the rest of the night was history.  

As the sun broke through the lower windows the two men untangled their bodies. Both of them were damp with sweat. The only difference was Scott also had a hole full of cum. Pumped full Scott’s stomach pushed out slightly from how much the man had filled him up. 

Looking down at his pushed out stomach he rubbed it and smiled back up at the older man. “Thanks Daddy.” He said giddily as he leaned forward and pressed a quick peck on the man’s lips before he disappeared with a bounce in his step. 

“Fuck.. what is happening…” He whispered to himself as he got up from the floor where he had just bred Scott for the last time of the night. Looking around he could still picture their bodies fucking around the room and he scratched his head as he wondered how he was going to explain this to his son. 

Before that though he needed to figure out what was happening. John pulled back on his pants, having taken them off after breeding Scott the first time they lay under his desk undisturbed. Leaving the fly open he leaned back and focused his thoughts. Trying to pinpoint anything that might help, wishing for a lead his hands stopped halfway through his face. 

Wish. John bit his lip and looked down at his empty tumblr.  “I wish for a drink.” He said. Watching in amazement he watched with eagle eyes as the tumblr filled back up again. Rummaging through his pockets John pulled out the coin he had gotten from the old lady. Pulling it out just in time to see a faint shine of the metal he held it up admiring the sheen. 

“Fuck…” The Sheriff knew he had two choices right now. Tell Deaton and ask for help or continue with his own wishes. A cold pang filled his chest as he twirled the coin in between his fingers. 

After that first night with Scott, when John was making his decision he wasted no time in putting together a plan to expand his collection of boys. Never in his life had John ever felt this powerful and he wasn’t about to give it up. He wanted more, he was going to have more. 

With Scott under his belt John waited to see how things would fold out. Surprisingly nothing had seemed to change. When they were around other people Scott acted like he always did. Still as goofy and bubbly as ever. But when they were alone it was as if a switch was flicked and a part of Scott reminded him that John was his Daddy. 

He kept fucking Scott any time they were alone, taking the opportunity until he finally worked out how to use this new ‘power’. Any wish John made came true as long as he had the coin on his person. Once he knew that the coin never left his hold. Fashioned into a charm on a chain John had fitted the coin into a special container so that he could have it on his person at all times. 

At first he had apprehensions about using making a wish upon Stiles but that all began to dissolve as soon as he made his first wish. After that it was like a snowball gaining momentum and mass as it rolled down a white mountain side.

He started with an innocent enough wish. A command that would make Stiles leave John and Scott alone in peace until he heard the command to return again. It had taken a few tries and tweaks to make it where Stiles wasn’t just zoned out in his room. John had perfected it to where when Stiles left them alone he would still act as normal but would avoid returning back to the area that he had left. 

Using this John started to fuck around with Scott a lot more, not just in the house anymore either. After they had fucked in every single room at least 5 times, including Stiles’ room, John began to broaden his horizons. In the car when he picked up Scott from school, in the McCall house, in the woods, and even in the school once after a match. 

But even as he was spending almost every evening pumping Scott’s ass full of cum and breeding him round something gnawed at him. A little feeling that bloomed after he made more wishes about Stiles. 

One night John decided he had fought that feeling long enough and with no Scott to be found at the house tonight Stiles was now his target.

“I wish Stiles was a good boy, like Scott.” It was a simple and broad statement but somehow the power in the coin always knew what he meant. Standing under the door frame into the kitchen John watched on as he saw a faint shiver travel up Stiles’ spine. 

Stiles had been in the kitchen getting a study snack, but that thought quickly left his head when he saw his Daddy standing at the other end of the kitchen. “Daddy!” He said happily running up to the man and leaning up to kiss his cheek. 

“Can I help you with anything Daddy?” He asked the man. 

Stiles was like a fresh slate for John but he could see the twinkle in his eye, or rather in his lips that invited him to do dirty things to them. 

“Yes you can baby.” He said grinning from ear to ear. 

From that point every moment that wasn’t filled with Stiles’ homework or John’s job was spent filling Stiles’ mouth. Of course he didn’t only just use Stiles mouth but from his time spent fucking his son his mouth was defintly the star of the two holes. It must have had something to do with how much he ran it or how he was always fidgeting with it trying to get something in it. 

Day or night whenever John called for a hot mouth his son responded. That was unless Scott wasn’t already there.

Something John hadn’t foreseen was how parts of his wish began to modify themselves as his list grew longer. 

Before he had touched Stiles, nothing about the two boy’s changed when they were alone. But now it was somewhere in the middle, mixed between their normal selves and being John’s boys. Sure enough when John was out of the picture they were still acting normal, like they weren’t regularly getting railed by the Sheriff. 

With his son now enthralled to him it wasn’t long before their one on one sessions got a little bigger, and soon Scott and Stiles’ weekly sleepovers turned into something more like a weekly fuck rodeo. Where John’s cock was the bull and they tried to compete for who could spend the most time riding it. A competition that he was all too happy to facilitate and judge. Only instead of strict empirical time John determined the winner as the one that held the most cum inside them. 

With bloated bellies and dripping holes John’s boys never had it in them to argue when John declared the winner. Partially because they never cared who won, all they wanted was to be full with cum and Daddy never disappointed them. 

Many a night was spent with John laying back and having his cock worshiped, dumping in load after load, like a never ending stream of thick cum flowing from his cock. And both boys not wanting to waste their Daddy’s seed licked up the heavy scent greedily.

It was a while after that before John made a third move. Once again the need and desire for more started to swell in him and he wasted no time in putting his plan together. Instead of keeping it more secretive he started to set his sights further wanting more and more. Something in him not feeling satisfied with just the two boy’s he already had. He wanted more and he knew just where he was going to go looking for it. 

~~~

“Daddy?” A voice called out to him but that wasn’t enough to pull him from his thoughts. John had long been lost to them. 

“Daddy??” The voice called out louder this time. But even that wasn’t enough. Still staring blankly at the ceiling John was laying on his back his fingers turning the coin that hung around his neck. 

“DADDY?” Finally the sound reached John’s clouded thoughts. The sound of three voices proving to be enough to capture his attention. 

Looking down John stopped twirling the coin. “Sorry what were you saying?” Down between his legs were three mouths that were licking and rubbing all over his wet shaft. On his left was Scott, laying down on his stomach, his mouth moving back on John’s cock. 

To his right lay his own son, Stiles. Doing the same motion as Scott but in an opposite direction. And finally between his legs lay his latest addition. Mouthing all over his balls and the underside of his cock a beard tickled and rubbed against him, oh so nicely, Derek. 

“You were telling us who you were young to choose next.” Stiles said, taking his mouth off of his father’s cock for a moment only to remind him of what they had been talking about before he spaced out.

John reached out and thanked Stiles with a pat on his head, stroking his fingers through his short hair.  “That’s right son. I was just thinking who should be next to have Daddy’s attention.” He said smiling at him softly. 

“But first. I think it’s time for your new brother to get his first breeding from Daddy. “ John grinned. Down below at his cock the three mouths moved. Scott and Stiles pouted but that was quickly replaced with a grin when they all saw Derek’s reaction.

Usually scowled and frowning the bearded face was now soft. His cheeks were red in shyness, that same red passed up his beard creeping towards his wide eyes that were blown out. Massive green discs shining at him giving away all that Derek was too shy to say. That he was ready and he was needy, far needier than people would ever thought he would be. 

Wide eyed and needy he spoke softly the tips of his two front teeth poking out somehow making him even more attractive. 

“Please Daddy.. I.. I need it..” Looking up at the man from below the thick cock that rested on his face. Beard tickling and teasing his balls as he spoke. 

John smiled as the other two boys moved away stroking their stretched bellies full of cum. They leaned back , sitting on their feet as they knelt and licked their lips watching their new brother’s first time. 

“Come here baby. Daddy will treat you good.” John said patting his lap , showing Derek where he was about to sit. 

Without another word Derek climbed up the older man’s body. Crawling on all fours he spread his legs and straddled the Sheriff’s hips. Sitting down he could feel the heat of the thick length sliding between his cheeks. Slick from the time the three of them had spent preening over him with their mouths it caught against his hairy hole for a moment brushing against him ever so gently. That one moment was enough for Derek to let down his guard for a moment. 

Moaning loudly he arched his back trying to chase that feeling again. From just a brief touch alone was enough to have Derek’s body on fire. Aching for more. Pleasure took him over and made his mind spin and his thoughts leave his body. 

Nearly falling over the hairy wolf had to be caught by his new Daddy. Raising his hands John supported Derek’s muscled body by his large pecs. Squeezing them in good favour while he smiled up at his new boy already the neediest of the three. 

Just turned but already so desperate after just a little touch. That was all John needed to know that he had made the right decision in his new addition to his family. Unlike his other two slutty sons this son was a man and his body reflected that. Already glistening in sweat the slick skin managed to shine through the dark hair rugged over his body. 

Derek was all man all over but now matter how much he looked like it the wolf would now always be a perfect slutty boy for his Daddy. 

“Daddy’s got you.” He smiled. 

Reaching down Derek’s body his eyes followed while his hand ran down the muscular specimen of a man that he had managed to obtain. Each finger tip trailed down his body, following all the dips, curves, and every muscle line that he could feel. Each and every sensation almost like fire over his body. Warming him from within and spreading over his body. Going lower with each step the hands took down his body. 

Already leaking and begging for release Derek let out a while when he felt the hands glide over his hips. Drawing a line from his adonis belt around his side before they darted then down the small of his back. Dragging slowly over his cheeks they grew stronger as they took hold of his meaty cheeks. Spreading them and bringing his cock back into position ready to go where it belonged John stayed grinning up at his boy. 

“Please Daddy… I need it.. Please… “ Derek started to beg, whining needily and practically gasping for the other’s cock. His body begging alone with him. Pushing back with a winking hole he was already trying to grip at the man’s hard cock that he had been worshiping all day. 

“Please Daddy ple--- ooooOO” 

Derek hadn’t finished his last round of begging before his voice broke in a loud moan. His lips forming an O with his as his mouth fell open in pleasure. Mind clouding pleasure that made the wolf shudder and drool. Spreading his hole it felt like his body was being bared open. A warmth rushed through him like it was engulfing his body bit by bit. Turning him into a new man. A new wolf. Stripping away at the hard shell he had built and leaving the soft boy melting in the palm of John’s hand. 

The further John pushed in the more Derek felt like his soul was being bared raw. Exposed and vulnerable to his Daddy. 

“Put your arms behind your head baby. Daddy’s going to start moving now.” John grinned as he watched heavy sweaty arms move. Lifting up they exposed his underarms and flexed his muscles, biceps mounding perfectly. 

Once John was happy with it he reached down and began something that shocked Derek to his core. From just the first thrust his body shook. Trembling with pleasure he cried out. Gasping as his cock shot a mess of cum all around them. 

Smiling widely John let out a laugh as he started to pound at Derek’s hole. His cock thoroughly worked at the tightness. Repeatedly slamming as he deflowered Derek’s virgin hole for good. 

“D-DADDyyy!” Derek whined loudly. Straining his neck he had his eyes wide open, his pupils blown out in pleasure from John’s cock. Nothing had ever felt like this and he knew he wanted it forever. Choking on his pleasure he tried to keep himself upright as he was taken on the ride of his life. 

“That’s it baby. Let Daddy all the way in.” After John started to move his hips and Derek came there was some resistance. Squeezing down on each shot of cum Derek’s body started to block him from going balls deep with each stroke. As Derek rode each wave that pressure became more workable, eventually letting John slap Derek’s perfect ass with his heavy balls waiting to load his new son up for the first time.  

Derek lasted as long as he could while John made quick work of his ass. Showing him what he was meant to do, what he meant to be. His entire body swayed back and forth while he tried his best to stay up right. His eyes had closed, fluttering and shaking as he could feel the pressure never ending. Pleasure eternal like his body was being given everything it needed all at once until he couldn’t take it anymore. 

Collapsing forward Derek fell forward. Hitting against John’s chest he arched his back. Pushing his ass out asking for more. While he might not have been able to actually say it his body took care of that for him. His body vibrated with intensity that had the wolf drooling over the man’s body. 

Grabbing Derek’s ass with his hands John started to fuck Derek with more force. “If you’re going to be such a good boy for me, Daddy won’t be able to hold back.” He said grinning from ear to ear. His cock never stopping, all of his body fucking Derek with his strength he could muster. 

John’s own body had begun to sweat, drops rolling down his forehead as he licked his lips and strained his body under the weight of Derek’s body on top of him. “Going to breed you into Daddy’s perfect slutty son.” He grunted over and over between his words while his own body started to stutter. 

Gripping Derek a little tighter and closer, he shut his eyes, throwing his head back as his mouth fell open. Both he and Derek were moaning loudly, it was threatening to spill out from the house. His balls pulsed with life as he filled up Derek’s ass with cum. 

Pumping him deep and full, John's lay back steadily holding on to Derek as the two shared their first intimate moment. Derek giggled under the other’s arms, his body warm and his smell comforting even as he felt his stomach grow and round off with cum just like his brothers. Growing until his hard abs softened slightly. 

Since Derek only had one load in him he wasn’t as round as his two other boys but there was plenty of time for that. 

Grinning in delight, his two other sons came back. Jumping on his bed they began to kiss and make out with father and brother alike. A pile of tangled limbs as they settled up and teased the two.

“Daddy that looked so good.” Scott said smiling as he looked at Derek’s ass with jealousy. “Can I go next?” 

John chuckled as he felt his strength come back to him. “Now, now Scott. That’s unfair don’t you think? You and Stiles already had your fun.” He said reaching down to Scott’s chin, lifting his head from where he was looking at Derek’s ass. “Besides this is Derek’s first night with us. Don’t you remember how much fun your first night with Daddy was? Let’s give Derek a taste of that.” 

The older man looked down at Derek. Turning his attention back to the dark haired male while his cock started to twitch to life again . “Ready for round two baby?” John asked with a smirk after his cock had already started to move. 

And that’s how they spent the rest of the night with Derek attached to John’s cock at his ass and Scott and Stiles at their sides licking and kissing them trying to get in on the fun. Their first night together with the three boys and their Daddy. Filling up Derek again and again until he reached the others’ level of round belly full of cum.

~~~

There were many nights like this all over again, eventually it had grown into a ritual for them all. But something that was still new was John having to keep a thermos of his cum fresh every day for his boys so they wouldn’t get too hungry while he was at work. 

“Boys. Behave while I’m gone.” John said as he picked up his jacket . Taking it over his shoulder he leaned in and gave each one of them a deep kiss one after the other. He was only going away for the weekend but it would be the first time that they had been apart since becoming one big family. 

“I’ve left a thermos on the counter for each of you, and they’re labeled. So Stiles that means you can’t mix it up and steal someone else's” John chided the other, reminding him of the time John grounded Stiles to his room after he stole Scott’s flask and to make up for it John spent that night and the next day pampering the distraught boy. 

“Now, make sure you don’t mess the place up too much while I go on my business trip, and if you do Daddy might bring you back a surprise.” He grinned as he fiddled with the coin on his neck when there was a knock on the door. 

“Morning Deputy.” John opened it up with a grin. “Right on time, are you ready to go?” 

“Yes Sheriff. I’ve packed everything you asked for.” He replied, moving to the car again. 

“Please Jordan. This may be a business trip but I told you, it’ll be a good opportunity for us to get to know each other. I can’t have my newest Deputy not on the same wavelength as me,after all you’re meant to be my right hand man.” John teased the other with a chuckle. 

“Uh Yes.. John.” Parrish said shyly before hoping in the car.

John turned back to give his boys a last farewell and wink, the coin glinting in the morning light as he ducked into the car. Ready for his weekend alongside his new deputy.

~~~

More prompts here ...https://archiveofourown.org/works/14053365/navigate

#Anonymous #Sheriff #Derek #Scott #Stiles #prompt #story sunday #scribbles

[sparklyjojos]

CARNIVAL recaps [1/13] These will be full recaps of Carnival, the JDC book between Carnival Eve (recapped here) and Carnival Day (will be recapped as soon as this one is done). It's necessary to know the events of Cosmic, Joker and Carnival Eve before tackling this one. (The Saimon Family Case isn't ultra necessary, but it certainly helps.)

Carnival on its own has 26 episodes, each one spanning a week. They’re told completely out of chronological order. A note at the beginning encourages the reader to either experience them in this weird sequence (“the reader method”), or use the list provided to read them in chronological order (“the writer method”). The recap follows the reader’s way.

This and the next book are intentionally written to be VERY confusing and will constantly jump between places, times and characters. There are dates at the beginning of chapters, but they won't necessary mean a chapter happens exactly in that timeframe. There are tons and tons of characters. GOOD LUCK.

As for content warnings, there will be suicide, a lot of death and grieving in general, mental illness, a global virus pandemic, poorly handled Nazis, and also the author can’t write gay people.

Today’s recap: Christmas on Easter, S-detectives galore, broken gaydars, and the author letting you know early that he won’t hesitate to kill major characters.

--

[PART 1 — CARNIVAL ACT]

--

ONE

23 Nov 1996 — 29 Nov 1996

EASTER ISLAND

--

Now that it's been over three months since the Crime Olympics began on August 10th, the estimated death toll has reached over four hundred million.

Each Saturday a great tragic incident happens somewhere in the world at exactly 1 PM local time. A mysterious terrorist organization RISE announced that it’s the doing of the Billion Killer, an omnipotent being with no tangible form.

While the Billion Killer is fearsome, most of the deaths happen due to other causes. RISE’s “Invisible Soldiers” (IS for short) are stealthily killing people, and the global crime rate is on the rise. Some call it an Invisible War. There’s also a new disease called Alive [or Arrive? can be either word] spreading around and killing people in droves with its extremely low survival chance.

--

Christmas Mizuno has recently been staying on Easter Island. While there, he makes friends with a blind girl called Joyeeta, the daughter of the owner of the inn that Christmas is staying at.

Before he came here, Christmas had assisted Ryuuguu Jounosuke in investigating one of the Billion Killer’s cases in Peru. While they were there, Ryuuguu suddenly collapsed in fever brought on by the Alive disease, but had the extreme luck to recover after a short period of coma. But after he woke up, he seemed… different, and in an unusually brash way told Christmas to basically fuck off and try to find any clues on the Easter Island.

Christmas was confused by the sudden change in Ryuuguu, but at least glad about him surviving. So much has already been lost in the Crime Olympics. The JDC building’s explosion in August killed close to 300 out of 350 members of the organization. Christmas’s beloved Kasumi Fuyuka was dead, and they couldn’t even find Ajiro Souji’s body in the rubble.

--

When Christmas and Joyeeta are riding around the island, she suddenly says in her poor English that “a giant bird is falling”, and immediately afterwards they hear a rumbling sound and feel vibrations like that of an earthquake. Christmas assumes a plane has crashed and they speed up towards the beach.

It turns out the Moai statues have suddenly fallen over and killed a lot of tourists. Between the bodies lies the sixteenth skull of the Billion Killer; these are strangely glistening skulls made out of yet unidentified material, that so far are suspected to be symbolic “medals” of the Crime Olympics, one skull being left on each crime scene of the Billion Killer.

One of the dead tourists managed to draw a dying message in the sand: a simple image of a flying bird (?) and the letters NAS next to it.

When they return to town, they discover Joyeeta’s father had died around the same time the statues fell, stabbed with a yet unknown weapon in a pool full of other people. Christmas thinks a lot about how the impact of this one death is lost next to the more flashy Billion Killer case.

Joyeeta believes that “the bird” may have been brought here by her dead older sister Tierra as revenge, and that it killed their father. Tierra had been once attacked by a guest, pushed him in self-defense and accidentally killed him, which made the enraged father beat her and kick her out. Tierra was found dead on the beach later.

Despite being fed this entire sob story, Christmas already suspects that it was Joyeeta who killed her father, but leaves that be.

He can't guess the trick behind the Moai case. What did the bird and NAS mean? The Nazca bird drawing? Or maybe a NASA space shuttle crashed near the island? Unable to figure out much, Christmas eventually goes back to Peru to reunite with Ryuuguu and investigate the Nazca lines just in case.

After he leaves, we the readers learn that the blind girl named Joyeeta was the one who had died, and Tierra was just pretending to be her. After Joyeeta’s death, Tierra had found a dagger on the beach and prayed to the Moai asking for her father to die somehow. When she checked the beach later, the dagger wasn’t there—and now it seems like the Moai heard her wish.

--

Thinking again on how Joyeeta's father could have been killed, Christmas reasons out that he was stabbed when everyone’s attention was focused on the rumbling and noise. It’s like that saying about “the magician's left hand”—an illusionist distracts the audience with his right hand while really performing the trick with his left.

If something had enough force to topple the Moai statues, maybe it would also be able to fling a knife into the victim somehow. Or maybe Christmas is just rambling again, but hey, wandering around in confusion until he bumps into a solution is his reasoning method after all.

--

TWO

30 Nov 1996 — 06 Dec 1996

NAZCA LINES

--

When Christmas arrives in Peru a week after the Moai case, another weird incident has already happened: the terrain inside the eye of the Condor of the Nazca lines was burned in a pattern resembling a crop circle, yet another skull of the Billion Killer found in the center. There were no victims of the incident.

Christmas, Ryuuguu, Jouka (dressed completely in white which complements Ryuuguu’s black nicely) and the local guide investigate the scene.

Ryuuguu really changed after going through Alive. While he still has all his quirky mannerisms, he acts colder and Christmas gets the unsettling feeling that his usually friendly colleague now hates his guts. What’s more, Ryuuguu recently proposed to Jouka, which came completely out of the blue for someone seemingly as uninterested in relationships. Almost like he’s a whole other person.

Ryuuguu eventually leaves them to board a Cessna with the guide so they can examine the Nazca lines from above. Christmas talks with Jouka. She also noticed the change in their fellow detective, but accepts that nobody stays the same forever.

--

The Cessna crashes.

The guide survives for long enough to explain the accident. Something weird happened to the engine and made them crash. Up until the last moments Ryuuguu encouraged the guide to escape while staying calmly in his seat. His last words were:

“So this is fate… nothing can save you from it… Ryuuguu Jounosuke dies here...”

Detectives aren’t exempt from death. Four million people die every day in the Crime Olympics, Ryuuguu and the guide being just a tiny fraction of that number. Accidents happen. Christmas knows this, but the shocking news are still too much to handle. Jouka starts wearing black.

Christmas thinks that maybe it wasn’t a complete accident. Maybe Ryuuguu was aware of how much the disease changed him and gave up on life. It’s been confirmed that he showed up at the plane’s checkup that day, which someone with his talent for breaking machines would never do to avoid touching something important by accident.

Jouka believes it could have been murder, but can’t guess the details. She says cryptically that she’s certain that “Jounosuke died, but Ryuuguu is still alive”. Christmas desperately wants to believe this means there were TWO Ryuuguus present, one of them a disguised stranger. The real Ryuuguu caught on and sabotaged the engine, thus killing the imposter.

But no matter how hard they hope and investigate, they have to accept that the person who was at the checkup and who died in the crash was the same original Ryuuguu Jounosuke, and he will never come back again.

The only thing they may do is to turn away from the unchangeable past and focus on the future.

--

THREE

24 Aug 1996 — 30 Aug 1996

STONEHENGE

--

Hikimiya Yuuya was lucky enough not to be in the JDC building when it exploded, but it still had a giant emotional impact on him. So many people died, Ajiro Souji went missing, and some like Kirika Mai are still fighting for their life in the hospital.

The Billion Killer struck once again on August 24th, this time causing pieces of the famous Stonehenge to fall over and kill some tourists, the mandatory glistening skull found at the scene. On the same day a similar case happened in France: over a hundred people were killed when the famous Carnac Stones somehow fell on their heads, as if they had been teleported high into the air.

Hikimiya is staying at the Paris headquarters of the international detective organization DOLL, which occupies a large building complex surrounding the Place des Vosges. He’s tasked with assisting one of only seven S-rank detectives in the world. Seven may seem like very few, but it’s actually a lot; often there was just a single S-detective in existence for years, and having more than four at once was unheard of until the last few decades. In comparison, there are over five thousand registered A-detectives.

JDC isn't looking too good in the rankings. They do have two S-ranks (Ajiro and Juku) and one A-rank (Yaiba), but Kirika is C-rank, Jounosuke and Nemu are both D, and poor, poor Hikimiya never rose above an F.

The book gives us a handy list of S detectives, all of which will be highly relevant later. (In order: name — official DOLL title — less official DOLL nickname)

Zerofini Roi — Armchair Leader — Madame Alpha (from France)

Lemuria Sullivan — Knight in Night — Herr Omega (from Spain)

Desert Colosseum — Deus Ex Machina — Frau D (from Germany)

Ronely Queen — Whodunnit Magician — Mistress Queen (from USA)

Souji Ajiro — Philo Sphere — Mister Dick (from Japan)

Firannu Meiruneshia — Locked Empress — E-Mail (from Italy)

Juku Tsukumo — God of Detectives — Jukebox (from Japan)

[I still can’t believe it’s spelt Ronely Queen, and I have long given up on trying to find the correct way to romanize Meiruneshia's name. And I know that Ajiro’s nickname probably comes from “detective” just like Dick Gumshoe, but. MISTER DICK. Who’s responsible for this.]

A person chosen to be an S-detective stays listed as one until their death is confirmed. They will still be considered S-detectives even if they’re kicked out of DOLL (Lemuria Sullivan apparently was, but that's a story for another time).

Strangely enough, all of the S-detectives (aside from Lemuria) can speak fluid Japanese, the official explanation being that Firannu is a giant nerd interested in Japan and infected everyone with enthusiasm towards learning the language.

--

Hikimiya and Desert Colosseum / Frau D are both experts in data analysis. Their work room aside from the traditional shelves full of files also hosts a giant supercomputer, which is affectionately called Egg Mac because of its egg-shaped dome that the operator enters to access the interface.

Despite the nickname, Frau D is a guy. He’s a heavy corpulent man with a charming round face and a weird hairstyle that makes Hikimiya think of a plant (cut short in the back and sides, the rest grown into a slightly green tuft). He has a fastidiously kept thin moustache and skin that’s way too nice for a dude in his early thirties. He’s strangely fashionable too. Really likes chewing gum and popcorn.

Hikimiya has several problems with the man. One, Frau always calls him the equivalent of “boy”, which feels condescending, even though Hikimiya really is like a decade younger and pretty naive. Two, Frau loves stupid pranks like pretending he’s dead, and it’s hard to tell whether he says something seriously or in jest. Three, he changes the number lock to their work room all the time, so Hikimiya has to sit outside and painstakingly figure out the new code.

Frau states that Hikimiya is the one who should mature, learn how to keep cool, and examine the situation carefully instead of relying on preconceptions (and so falling for something like that death prank). He thinks Hikimiya may already be an E-rank detective, maybe even a D-rank, and Frau just wants to help polish his skills.

It’s true that Hikimiya now needs barely an hour to break the number lock instead of half a day… but it’s still insufferable.

--

Hikimiya also meets DOLL’s leader and the single best detective in the world, Madame Alpha. At first sight she seems to be a pretty normal friendly lady. She looks a lot like Angela Lansbury in Murder She Wrote and has that particular calming mom energy.

Hikimiya is a little awkward with introductions, which makes Frau poke fun at him, to which Madame just advises Hikimiya to never take anything Frau says too seriously. (“But I’m always serious~”, Frau responds.)

Madame states that she already found the culprit of the Carnac Stones case, talked with him, and he promised to go to the police station and turn himself in. (Frau criticizes her naivety, to which she responds like “it’s my case, I do what I want”.) But Madame already knows that it's not the case that Hikimiya wanted to ask about—rather, he wants to know if Ajiro Souji really died in the explosion. As expected from the greatest detective in the world, it's like she's reading his thoughts.

Madame’s unique and for now unexplained Zero Reasoning tells her that Ajiro Souji is still alive.

--

Later Hikimiya admits to Frau that he was surprised about Madame actually being a woman, considering that Frau is a man despite his nickname.

Frau explains that the nickname comes from the fact that in a way, he’s the actual Desert Colosseum's "wife" (Frau D = Frau Desert Colosseum). You see, Frau on his own is simply a talented A-detective. The one called Desert Colosseum is actually the advanced AI of the Egg Mac, and when Frau uses it for data analysis, together they reach the power equivalent to that of an S-rank detective.

--

FOUR

31 Aug 1996 — 06 Sept 1996

CAPPADOCIA

--

Hikimiya meets up in a cafe with two of his colleagues who have just arrived in France to investigate the Carnac Stones case (Madame found the culprit, but the trick itself has yet to be explained). It’s Tsukumo Nemu and Ryuuguu Jounosuke, who have been investigating as a great duo lately.

Jounosuke and Nemu had been lucky enough that they were leaving the JDC building at the time of the explosion, so they came out pretty much unscathed. Nemu still worries about Kirika, but Jounosuke as always is good at putting others at ease with his words. Perhaps it’s because he treats words and languages as dear friends, and always takes great care using them. ...but then he also has all those mannerisms like talking about himself in third person, or calling everyone with a gendered suffix -shi or -jou instead of the expected -san.

Jounosuke gets persuaded to try the local sweet apple tea instead of his usual coffee. The waiter still accidentally brings coffee, and Jounosuke even dumps a bunch of sugar into it on reflex before they have it taken back. Hikimiya says that the tea is already sweet and doesn't need sugar, but Jounosuke's sweet tooth is a hard enemy to defeat. They exchange friendly banter, then Jounosuke out of nowhere tells Hikimiya a riddle, and when surprised Hikimiya can’t find the right answer, Jounosuke triumphantly adds just a tiny amount of sugar into the tea, because hey, he won, he deserves it.

Hikimiya enjoys the stupid banter, but still can’t fully relax because of something that happened the previous day...

--

When he and Frau were at work yesterday, they got news about a new case, this one in Cappadocia. The Billion Killer had somehow managed to instantly burn down the entire rock monastery together with a movie crew, so that only the rock base and yet another skull remained. Frau asked Hikimiya to gather data about the place in the library.

Cappadocia is a quite popular and mysterious tourist spot. There are even wacky theories about the underground city having been an ancient nuclear shelter. Apparently, naturally formed ancient layers with glass have been found in many deserts, and some theorize they had been created by the heat of ancient nuclear explosions. Hikimiya thinks this ancient nuclear war theory is as interesting as it is depressing. Maybe humans really don’t change.

Hikimiya was pretty upset with his day and with Frau, but at least he was looking forward to meeting Nemu and Jounosuke again.

As expected from a detective said to know even tomorrow's news, Frau D already knew about his protégé's future meeting and asked if Nemu was Hikimiya’s girlfriend. When Hikimiya said she wasn't, Frau casually asked if Jounosuke was his boyfriend, then, because from what Frau could see, Hikimiya’s utterly happy expression probably meant he was about to meet with a loved one. Hikimiya sputtered and insisted they’re all just good friends. [Oh Hikimiya, if only you knew what your pixiv tag looks like...]

Frau was still looking at him seriously, so Hikimiya just tried to give him the data on Cappadocia that he had asked for. But Frau then stated he didn't need it, because he had already investigated the topic by himself in full—he just wanted Hikimiya to learn how to use sources instead of blindly accepting information from another person.

Hikimiya’s frustration with his own helplessness and the world hit a peak at this moment, and before he could blink, he was already rambling out completely irrational angry nonsense, like “then why are you keeping me here if I'm so useless, oh I get it, you’re gay and only chose me as an assistant from the DOLL database because of my looks rather than my skills”.

Hikimiya himself wasn’t sure where the hell this line came from. Maybe because he was often perceived as gay despite not swinging that way at all [here described as “being normal”, fuck off], so he was just subconsciously directing any self-doubt away from himself. Or maybe he was afraid of people targeting him for his body or something.

...and also because Frau had once taken him to a place widely known for its gay clientele. That happened too. [Hikimiya, honey, I'm sorry to say this, but if it took you this long to realize a guy who invited you to THE Club Banana Café on a go-go night was gay, then I question your detective skills.]

Frau was at first shocked at this outburst, but then calmed down and asked, “How did you know that I’m gay?” [What do you mean how, you literally took him to- you know what, let's just settle on both these guys being absolute dumbasses.]

--

...so even now when he’s with his friends in a cafeteria Hikimiya can’t fully relax, because he’s still dreading the possibility that oh god, what if the man he’s currently stuck working under really just wants him for his body? Frau told him not to worry, sexual harassment was not at all his thing and he wouldn’t force anyone into a relationship, BUT WHAT IF. [Are we really doing the predatory gay trope? Are we really? Sigh.]

Anyway… they talk about the Crime Olympics some more, and Hikimiya and Jounosuke continue to banter like brothers.

Suddenly there’s a commotion. The waiter that served the detectives’ table stumbles over towards Jounosuke and vomits blood before falling dead.

Jounosuke takes it upon himself to investigate the death. He talks to the chef to learn what happened, then comes back to his friends with a weird expression.

He discovered that the spoon in the sugar bowl at their table didn’t have any fingerprints on it. Of course neither Hikimiya nor Nemu used it (the sweet tea didn't need sugar) and Jounosuke as always had his gloves on, but it’s weird that other patrons who had been sitting there earlier didn’t leave fingerprints.

The only explanation is that any fingerprints were wiped away by the murderer while he was adding poison to the sugar. The waiter probably accidentally poisoned himself with the sweetened coffee he took back to the kitchen. The incident likely wasn’t even a murder attempt directed specifically at the detectives, but just another one of the thousands of everyday chaotic crimes of the Crime Olympics. Jounosuke was incredibly lucky to have used only a little bit of the sugar for his tea. Hikimiya unwittingly saved his life.

Jounosuke can't stop blaming himself for the waiter’s death. Hikimiya knows that this feeling of guilt is partially born from the memory of that time in Geneijo when he couldn’t protect Souya. Hikimiya wasn’t even there at the time, so he has no idea what to say to Jounosuke to cheer him up. Just like every day in the Crime Olympics, he’s just left cursing his own helplessness.

--

[>>>NEXT PART>>>]

#sparkly reads carnival #maijo and jdc stuff

[blueraspberrymilkshake]

how about kyman with the prompt "do it, i dare you"?

Okay, I just want to apologize to @lochnessmonster for taking so long to post this prompt. Work has been a pain in the ass and I wanted to make this oneshot really good one. And it is! So I hope you enjoy this 2k+ ‘ficlet’! Heads up, this story has a lot of saliva references and Butters torture. I also made this one-sided K2, whoops, lmao.

~x~

“Do it, I dare you.”

Cartman said it so provokingly after Kyle let out a ’what?’ after hearing the brunette’s proposal. No, not that kind of proposal. 

Cartman dared Kyle to kiss Kenny. On the lips.

While the blond was sitting right next to him. In front of everyone in the room. 

“Okay. This is unexpected,” Stan retorted.

And he was right. In the past two hours, the teenagers were having a normal sleepover at Stan’s household (which had a severe lack of two parental figures since forever, resulting in underaged drinking on Stan’s part); and in the past thirty-five minutes Kyle wanted to play 'truth or dare’ and since then the other boys had done the most absurd tasks. 

Stan was given a wet willy by Craig’s middle finger.

Craig confessed he would still pee on the bed at the tender age of fifteen (Stan quickly left and came back from the bathroom and dropped a bucket of cleaning utensils waiting for him in the morning).

Cartman had to shove ice cubes inside his sleep pants and let it melt on his own sleeping bag.

Kenny had to impersonate a police officer while prank-calling Darryl Weathers (the boys later found out that the crazy man had recently went skinny-dipping at Stark’s Pond right after drunk driving and nearly ran over an unidentified child).

The other blond had it the worst. Butters had to find any undergarments Shelly left in her old room and wear them on his head. He could only find a worn out pair of brief panties. And to add fuel to the fire, he had to let his friends take pictures of him and share them with their friends… and his father.

Fast forward to the present, and all of the aforementioned highlights would’ve been better for Kyle. Hell, sticking a twig inside his dick sounded much less humiliating than kissing his friend. And that says a lot. 

Kyle blinked his eyes, still blindsided from Cartman’s request. “No, I’m sorry, did you just-”

“God, Kyle, do I have to repeat myself? I dare you to kiss Kenny!”

“I-I change my mind! Truth!”

“Nuh-uh,” said Cartman, wagging his finger. “You can’t change a truth or dare. Ain’t that right Craig?”

The dark-haired teen cleared his dry throat, trying to maintain his composure. “Y-you did came up with that rule yourself, Kyle.”

“See? Told ya." 

Kyle internally cursed at himself. Why did he insist on making every game so challenging? "I am not kissing him, Eric.”

“You have to. It’s a dare,” Cartman sneered.

“Why not dare Stan? Or Butters? Hell, even Craig seems more willing to do this!”

“Dude! No!”

“I have a boyfriend, asswipe.”

“And I still have my dignity, thank you very much,” Butters remarked ironically, adjusting the waistband of his newly given headwear. 

Two seconds later a small jingle left Craig’s phone, signaling the notifications he earned. As he checked his phone he snickered.

“What’s so funny?”

“Your picture got over a thousand likes on my Instagram, dude,” he even replied to one of the comments, “Why yes, those are menstrual stains.”

“A thousand?!” Butters shouted in agony, his face became sweating and his pupils wander around the room but nothing made him calm yet. “Oh God, is Charlotte going to see this?! I need to come up with a good dare, and quick!”

“Shut up, you guys!” the impatient Cartman interjected, with his head turning towards Craig and Butters.

“Alright, let’s get on with it, people,” he continued, snapping his fingers directly at his other two friends.

The older teen huffed, arms crossed as a form of protest. He wasn’t about to hear it.

“Kyle,” the taller boy leaned just a little closer, his tone low and browbeat, “your ass was going on and on and on about wanting to smooch a guy, and now’s your chance.”

Kyle’s eyes snapped back open, clearly outraged that Cartman would bring this up. He admitted to his friends he was questioning his sexuality; wondering if he liked boys as much as he liked girls. That was several months ago, and since then he would continue living his life with nary a definite conclusion. He should’ve known the taller boy would bring up personal information for his own gain.

“I didn’t know you’re bi-curious, too!” Butters beamed.

“Mhmm,” Cartman hummed. “And don’t act like you two haven’t done anything gay before. I haven’t forgotten the whole 'ookie mouth’ thing.”

“Ookie mouth?” Butters repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“We were eight!” exclaimed Kyle.

“And painfully inexperienced,” Kenny added with a hint of disappointment, earning him a glare from his former playmate.

“And now…” Cartman raised his two index fingers towards his chest and brought his digits together, “…you two can finally share each other’s saliva properly,” he punctuated his sentence by closing his hands together.

“Oh, dear God,” Kyle groaned, covering his face in embitterment. 

“You guys had to share saliva?” Butters gave off a mischievous look, his thumb and index finger on his chin. “Hmm.”

“Don’t even think about it, Butters,” remarked Stan.

“Why are you doing this to me? I don’t even like Kenny like that.”

“I saw the way you looked at him the other day. You were so focused on that sexy face of his, huh? You even smiled at him!”

“I was helping him study for our Final, you idiot.”

“It doesn’t matter. You could’ve said no. But something inside you said otherwise.”

“Eric, for the last time, I am not doing this. You better find something else for me to do.”

“Dude,” Kenny responded, his hand landing on Kyle’s shoulder. “let’s just get this over with.”

“You’re going along with this,” the frustrated teen assumed in a deadpan tone.

“Y'all know I never back down from a challenge,” said the smug boy, showing off a sincere grin.  “And compared to the other shit we’ve done tonight, Fatass is practically being nice to us. Besides, It’s not like he’s asking for a full-blown make out session.”

Kyle thought about this long and slow, and he snarled at Cartman. The brunette just raised an eyebrow, that shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. Kyle pursed his lips together, and finally gave up.

“Just a peck.”

Kenny nodded in agreement.

“Soooo?” Cartman was lying on his stomach, his feet in the air, and not caring for the remnant wet spot from his own dare. “Who’s gonna make the first move?”

Stan let out a forced cough and took another sip out of his can. 

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Kyle suggested abruptly. 

Each faced their open palms towards each other before placing their fists on top. When they drew the first time, they both had scissors.

“Best two out of three.”

They drew again, they chose rock.

They drew again, they chose scissors.

They drew again, they chose paper.

“How are you guys doing that?” Stan questioned.

And they drew again and again and again, but continue to reveal the same illusive weapon.

“Jesus Christ!” Cartman yelled, reaching towards the work desk and quickly found what he needed.  “Here!” A dime in front of Kenny’s face, the light from the ceiling causing the coin to glow in front of Kenny’s face. “Just flip a coin.”

“I-I call tails,” Kyle blurted out, just as the blond snatched the shiny object.

Kenny flipped the coin and caught it when it fell on the back of his palm. It landed on tails.

Kyle really wished he had some of Stan’s beer. 

“Alright Kyle, time to kiss yo’ man!” Cartman taunted. He was practically bouncing from excitement, and it wasn’t just from the ice cubes.

The redhead said nothing and instead sat still, taking the time to stay calm before he could look at his chosen participant.

“Look Kyle, we don’t have to-” suddenly Kyle placed a finger on the other boy’s lips, signaling him to stop.

“Why are changing your mind now? I thought you said you’d never back down from a challenge.”

Kenny was taken aback from his friend’s sudden change of inclination. He opened his mouth trying to find the right words, but the other teen beat him to it. “Come here.”

Kenny’s cheeks became redder and hotter as Kyle’s cold hands took hold of them. 

’If Fatass wants a show, I’ll give him a show’, the redhead thought.

Kyle took a deep breath before pressing his lips onto Kenny’s. He assumed the blond’s lips would be dry and chapped from the cold weather but instead they were soft and moist, but not from his own spit. Cartman must’ve had a play in this, because Kenny was wearing cherry flavored chapstick; the only person who liked that flavor was Cartman himself. He felt Kenny loosen up and give in to the passive kiss. Keeping his eyes shut, he let his hands wander at Kenny’s back - one hand gently grabbing strands of unkempt hair while the other stopped at his neck - pulling the other boy further onto him. 

“Uh… guys?” said Stan, finally speaking up, but his voice quickly became white noise. Craig gestured at the other boy, placing a finger on his lips, as he was quietly recording what’s left of this unforgettable dare.

Kyle captured his lips again, and again, and again, portraying himself as some touch-starved virgin; he could’ve sworn he felt Kenny’s mouth curve into a smile.

“Guys, you can stop now. Guys!”

“Welp, it’s a good thing I brought these,” Craig used his free hand to reach into his back pocket and a short pack of condoms fell on the floor.

“Craig!”

Thankfully for Stan, Kyle broke the kiss before this oneshot exceeds its PG-13 rating. When he opened his eyes again, he was met with a blankly inscrutable Kenny, his fingers lightly brushing his lips. Kyle’s eyes searched around the room, and everyone remained speechless. 

Stan ran a hand onto his raven-colored hair, clearly distressed of what he had just witnessed. “Holy shit, dude.”

Cartman blinked, as if he knew what he was going to say but couldn’t, and soon suppressed giggles evolve into raucous laughter. He was literally rolling on the floor as he does so, hardly attempting to regain his posture.

“Oh my - oh my God,” Cartman wiped his eyes as he tried to breathe. “You guys really did it!”

“Yeah!” Butters chimed in. “How embarrassing!” His snickering ceased as a buzz from his phone went off. He wasn’t too happy with his text.

“Oh jeez. My dad saw the pictures,” he bowed his head in shame. “He says I’ll be grounded when I get home.”

Kyle let out a long sigh. “I’m gonna rinse my mouth, now.”

And just like that, he promptly excused himself from the bedroom.

Everyone remained silent until Craig broke the ice. It was his turn after all. “Butters, truth or dare?”

~x~

After he was done using the bathroom, Kyle decided to get a bottle of soda to help wash down the aftertaste of Kenny’s mouth. When he took it from the refrigerator, Cartman was already stepping into the kitchen.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Kyle was pouring his drink into a plastic cup.

“My plan worked, didn’t it?” The brunette smirked.

Kyle pulled away from his own cup as the words processed through his head. “I knew it.”

“Don’t be like that, Kyle.” Cartman replied, hoping his own words would reassure the other boy. “No one will be able to recognize… this thing between us. Everyone will think you and Kenny have a thing.”

“Is that why you invited Craig and Butters? Just so they can have something to gossip?”

“Well, it’s hard for anyone believe anything Butters says out of his mouth,” the brunette sat next to the shorter guy, grabbing the bottle. “But with Craig, it’s nearly impossible to take no for an answer. I also wanted to see Butters make an ass out of himself tonight.”

Cartman removed the bottle cap; he was about to himself out before Kyle firmly grabbed his wrist.

“You’re not going to drink off the bottle, are you?”

“You took the last cup.”

“That doesn’t mean you can taint the soda with your backwash.”

The boy next to him scoffed. “Can I at least take a sip from your cup?”

Cartman was given the cup, and in return he gave Kyle a ludic stroke on his chin.

“Thanks, babe.”

Kyle rolled his eyes and smiled. He made sure he would get his cup back before Cartman could leave him with a single drop.

“I’m glad this whole thing is taken care of,” Cartman replied.

“There are better ways to keep our relationship a secret, dude,” said Kyle.

“Don’t worry,” Cartman nudged his arm. “This whole fiasco will die down in less than two months…maybe,” he stated his remark like it was supposed to make his boyfriend feel better. “…And now that Kenny’s got his wish he’ll stop vexing me.”

'His wish…’ it didn’t take Kyle to figure that one out on his own. “Kenny’s crushing on me, isn’t he?”

“What do you think?”

This all made perfect sense now.

“Cartman? Truth or dare?”

“Truth?”

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

Cartman didn’t say anything… yet. Kyle had already knew the answer. He just wanted to hear him say it. 

“Of the kiss? Of Kenny liking me? You thought that he was going to steal me away from you?" 

The brunette nodded his head but eventually answered the question, so faintly that Kyle could barely listen to it. He didn’t have to worry, though; because it was enough to earn him a tender kiss from his boyfriend. Unlike his last encounter, the redhead took his time on this particular person; the same person who had made him feel all types of ways but still managed to steal his heart. Kyle didn’t remove his hands when he parted ways, and instead they slid onto broad shoulders. He would never say it out loud, but kissing Kenny wasn’t as bad as he thought. However, the blond could never compete with the juxtaposition of silkier, shaved skin and softer, chestnut hair and chubbier cheeks and straightened, white teeth and the scent of coconut body wash, the list goes on and on. No one could ever take his place.

Their trance was broken when they heard a yell from upstairs.

"Jesus, Craig, there’s spit in my eye!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Butters!”

Kyle leered at Cartman when he started cackling, only to join in mere seconds later. 

“C'mon, you gaywad…” Kyle punched him playfully, “before they catch us.”

The best come back the other boy could come up with was, “Likewise, buttmunch.”

Cartman watched his boyfriend wander back towards the stairs before following suit.

#kyman #kyman fanfiction #eric cartman #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #kenny mccormick #craig tucker #butters stotch #my fanfiction

[cottageteeth]

TW: Self h/a/rm, murder, gore, possession

~7k words

Jake Kelly and his little sister Tullia were the first to notice the oddity of the small town they moved into. Yes, while it did offer the schooling Jake Kelly and his sister needed, it also offered little to no social shade from the others in the community, just like other small towns the people here were tight-knit and tended to have a mob mentality if someone ruined their way of life. The two stayed to themselves for the most part, Kelly focusing on college and his job while his sister practiced her driving on the dirt roads. It was a break from the busy town the two grew up in, but Kelly had to admit he did miss his old life, though this would be a good change for the both of them.

“Hey,” Kelly nudged his little sister who was staring up at the house, “Get your boxes to your room, doofus, then we can look around the town.”

“I don’t like it here.” She huffed, crossing her arms, “I don’t like the gross buildings or the gross looking people, I want to go back home, Jake Kelly, I want to go home!”

Instead of fighting with his sister he kissed her forehead and walked inside alone. She’d been very clear that she didn’t want to move, that she hated this ‘small hick town’ and she didn’t want to make new friends all over again. He didn’t blame her, but they both knew it was for the best if they moved out of their old house. Too many painful memories for either of them to cope with. Plus they could be whoever they wanted to be in this town, no one knew them, which Kelly was relieved of.

Hours of packing later he was finally done with the bare bones of the house. They had their kitchen utensils, living room set and pictures all hung. Jake Kelly smiled softly at his work, it took almost half the day but he moved pretty fast and with the excitement of buying a new house it wasn’t too hard.

He walked to his sister's bedroom, knocking lightly on the door, “Everything unpacked?” He asked through the door, “Tuuuulliaaaaa, I’m aaaasssssking yoooou a queeeeestiooooon.”

He couldn’t help but grin at himself when he heard Tullia groan in annoyance, opening the door with a huff. She didn’t say anything, instead she pulled him into the room, sitting on her bed with a loud grunt. Her room was bare,no posters, mirrors or anything like her old room, it was an odd sight to see.

“Why aren’t you unpacked yet?” Kelly asked softly, sitting down beside his pouting sister, “It’s gonna be hard to move around these boxes y’know.”

“I’m not gonna unpack just to pack it all up again.” Tullia snapped, jerking her head to the other side, not looking at her brother as she spoke again, “It’s not fair. I want to go back home with mom and dad! Or at least be closer to the house… I miss them, I miss them and it’s not fair you don’t care so you just decide to move a gazillion miles away! It’s your stupid fault we’re here and not home!”

Her words stung Kelly. Of course he missed his parents dearly, but they were gone and nothing in his power could bring them back. It was his fault they were gone anyway, Tullia was right about that, all of this mess was his fault. God, if he had left a note or at least said goodbye before leaving then…

“Get your stuff unpacked, Tullia.” The words hung coldly over the two of them before Jake got up, “I’m not playing with you anymore about this.”

Dinner was takeout, Jake Kelly didn’t have the energy to cook and Tullia didn’t want to eat anything homemade, so they ordered pizza. It came an hour late, which was upsetting but nothing new in this town apparently. The pizza guy was surprised to see new people here, but he didn’t explain why, just told them to enjoy their food and left in a hurry. It was a silent dinner save for the background noise of the television, some news story about a murder. Tullia flipped the tv off with a sad sigh.

“Kelly,” She swallowed hard, rubbing her eyes before throwing herself onto her brother, wrapping her arms around him as she sobbed, “I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean to say that, I know-”

He shook his head, holding her tightly as he glanced to the side, watching a few butterflies and moths out of the window, “It’s okay. I know you didn’t want to move but it’s for the best.”

“Yeah...:”

The two stayed there for awhile, hugging and enjoying the other company. While they were close it was rare they had moments like this, so they tended to last longer than needed. Once they pulled away Kelly stood up, grabbing their plates and dumping them into the trash along with the now empty pizza box.

“You start school tomorrow and I start college,” Kelly called from the kitchen, “so I wont be here until three.”

Tullia nodded, her turn to look out the window, “Okay…”

“If you need anything just call me, okay?”

“Okay.”

Kelly sighed softly, it was clear she didn’t want to talk, so he told her goodnight and went to his bedroom. Shutting the door he flipped the lights on, looking around he couldn’t help but laugh softly. His new room looked so much like his older one, his bed pressed against one corner, a small shelf on the wall with a computer desk against the other wall. It was a small similarity but it was enough to make him feel at home. He didn’t want to think about anything, but of course, his thoughts were always wild unless dulled with a nice mix of Escitalopram (Lexapro) and Clonazepam (Klonopin). Dulled was a… Strong word choice, his thoughts were very much still active and nudging him closer towards an inevitable clift, but with the medication the clift is far away and the nudging is more of a gentle tap than a jerking pull.

Sighing softly he got out of bed, unzipped his backpack and took the two orange pill bottles out. No time better than any to sort and organize them into his blue pill sorter. Tullia bought it for him so he wouldn’t forget to take his medicine regularly, but the problem now was to remember to fill the damn thing. But that was his life, he’d take them for six strong weeks, forget one day and his life was flipped upside down for two weeks, then it was a rinse and repeat from there on out.

The college was surprisingly nice, the building was old, but it wasn’t falling apart like the others the boy had passed. Students crowded the stairwell, all coming or going to classes, each in their own little world of troubles as they stepped up or down. Kelly had finally reached class, with a few minutes to spare. He sat down next to a nice looking guy, they both smiled at each other before pulling out computers for the class.

As class started Kelly couldn’t help but steal a few glances from the boy next to him, he was just really nice looking. Sighing softly he typed out a few notes the teacher out down, the class was slow, but I suppose it was just the first day. The notes weren’t complicated yet he remembers nothing from that class.

“Hey,” A sharp nail tapped the side of Kellys shoulder, “I saw you kept looking at that guy, you like him or something?”

Jake Kelly shook his head, but his face was red hot. The girl laughed, normally he would’ve laughed along but this laugh made his stomach flip.

“Are you gay or something?” Another asked, leaning forward, “I’d love to have a gay friend, they’re really cool!”

Kelly quickly got up, stuffing his things into his bag as he slipped it onto his shoulder. Hurrying out of class he frowned, running a hand through his hair he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. Usually he’d ignore comments like that, he’d grown used to it, but something about this place made him feel suddenly rejected, as if he’d been punched in the gut. The feeling only grew once he had made it off campus.

“Hey!”

Jake Kelly turned, blinking in surprise as a small group of guys were surrounding him, “Can I help you?”

One scoffed, “My girlfriend said you were flirting with her in class, you wanna get beat up, bitch?”

Jake Kelly frowned as he narrowed his eyes, “Don’t touch me. And I wasn’t flirting with your chick, I wouldn’t want to anyway.”

“Why not? You calling her ugly?”\

The words came out before Kelly could even think, “If the shoe fits.”

That was the first time he’d been beaten up. Sure he’s been insulted and threatened, but never beaten up. This was a different pain, his whole body ached as he moved through the door. Tullia gasped when she saw him, grabbing his hand and leading him to the couch with a frown. She’d asked him millions of times what had happened but he told her not to worry, he was fine and of course, it’s no big deal. Leaning back he shut his eyes, listening to the tv as Tullia flipped the news channel on.

“We’re getting reports of a murderer on the loose, their victims are twenty-seven year old unidentified male with... “ The reporter trailed off as she stared at the camera, her eyes widening as a scream left her mouth, “No! Stop!” She cried before the channel was cut off.

Tullia and Kelly scared the same shocked look. How could they air something like that? Is that reporter okay? Oh god is she dead?

“Maybe I should start getting dinner ready…”

Tullia nodded, bringing her gazed back to the television before suddenly looking back at her brother, “Wait! I wanna tell you about my day.”

“Oh,” He smiled and slowly sat up, “Okay, what did you do?”

“Well in history we got on the subject of reincarnation and that had be thinking, when I die I’m going to come back as a beautiful butterfly!”

Kelly raised a brow as he smiled, “Oh? Why a butterfly?”

“Because they’re always so majestic to watch! Plus I really love them, mom loved them too, but she got scared every time they’d fly near her.”

“I remember that. She screamed once because one landed on her hand. I felt bad for laughing but it was pretty funny.”

“Yeah,” Tullia nodded, sharing the same smile with her brother before turning to look out the window, “Do you think mom and dad are in a better place…?”

The question made Kelly tense up, sure he was expecting it but it still shocked him. Honestly, he didn’t have an answer. He didn’t believe in a god that would let him see his own parents corpses, one that would let his parents, the kindest people in the world, be killed in such a savage way. He didn’t want a god that would let children die or do cruel things for some ‘greater plan’ bullshit. But he didn’t tell his sister that, he didn’t want her to think life was so negative that it’s not worth living, he didn’t want her thinking how he often thought.

“Yeah, I do.” He nodded, looking down at his cut up hands, “They’re… Man they’re in a better place now, they don’t have to worry about anything, all they have to do is sit back and relax with all their friends.”

Tullia sniffed softly, wiping her nose as she gave Kelly a sad smile, “That makes sense. I hope they’re having fun.”

“So do I.”

Jake Kelly scowled as he stomped his foot, one hand gripped on his door, “Mom it’s not fair! You let Tullia go out! Why can’t I go hang out with Dylan?”

“Because Tullias friend has a cop for a father, and she doesn’t tend to roam the streets at night,” She pointed out with a huff, “I don’t want you to get hurt, J.K., you know that.”

“Mom, I’ll be fine!” He yelled.

His father walked down the hall, the same scowl Kelly had on his face, “Don’t yell at your mother young man, she’s trying to look out for you. Tullia is safe where she is, besides she went out before we heard the news.”

“So it’s okay if she goes, yeah that seems fair.”

Slamming his door shut and locking it, Jake Kelly jumped onto his bed, laying on his back as he kicked his legs out. It wasn’t fair, he reasoned with himself, Tullia could go out and have so much fun while he was stuck in this stuffy house with parents asking him every five minutes if he was okay or… God he sounded like a child whining. His phone began to go off, the ringtone of Electric Avenue played.

Kelly answered the phone with a smile, “Hey Dylan, what’s up?”

The conversation seemed to skip like a record player, words jumbling into each other before Jake Kelly found himself outside, hitting the ground with a soft thud. Dusting himself he looked up, his window was propped open with a pillow, waiting for his return as he snuck out. The night was a blur, laughing and drinking with Dylan, he came home with a better attitude than the one he left with.

He pulled himself into the window, grunting softly as he tossed the pillow on the floor to his bed. He blinked, raising a brow at the open door, assuming his parents must’ve unlocked it and saw he was gone. He didn’t get any calls on his phone, maybe they were waiting to yell once he got home. Slowly stepping into the hall he blinked. All the lights were off, even the small hall light Tullia insisted they put there was off. He frowned, putting his hand against the wall as he felt for the light switch. Flipping it on was the worst mistake of his life.

The scene in front of his belonged in a horror movie, directed by either Steven King or some other fucked up asshole who had a fetish for blood and guts. His father, who slumped against his armchair had his arms practically torn open, like an animal had gotten loose in here. His mother, laying on the couch beside him had cuts everywhere, deep and shallow, large and small. He wanted to puke, but all he did was scream as he backed into the hallway, his legs giving out.

Jolting awake Jake Kelly quickly looked around the dark living room, wiping his brow off as he slowly got up. It was pitch black outside, the town obviously lacking in streetlights. That damn night always comes back to him, in his dreams or thoughts, it was his fault. His fault they were murdered, his fault. If he didn’t sneak out then his parents would be alive, Tullia would be happy with her old friends and… He couldn’t stop fucking up, could he? He couldn’t just think for a moment that maybe, maybe everything would be better if he just disappeared.

He hobbled into the bathroom, jerking the water on as his hands began to shake. His thoughts went a mile a minute, not resting, not letting him have peace. He hated it, he wanted it all to stop. He needed it all to stop before he hurt anyone else. Before he caused another horrible accident, maybe then he’ll finally get the hint and just…

He pulled out a small container from the cabinet, popping the lid off he dumped out a small razor blade into the palm of his hand. It was still new, still sharp and hopefully the last thing he’d need to use for his mind to finally shut up. He didn’t bother to take his clothes off, there wasn’t a point, really.

Getting into the hot water, he let out a low sigh, it felt nice to have the water working again. He ran his finger over a few bruises on his arm, frowning faintly. He had to run his big mouth back there, didn’t he? Without thinking he drew the blade down his arm, jerking slightly as he watched his blood slowly ooze out. It was a sick thought, but it looked cool to the man, but he then shook his head. He didn’t want it to be cool, he wanted peace of mind. He grabbed the blade with his other hand, shaking as he did the same with his first arm. Dropping the blade to the floor he slowly slid back into the tub, shutting his eyes as his whole body began to shake.

“Jake Kelly..!”

There was someone banging on the door.

His eyes slowly opened, his vision blurry.

“You’ve been using the water for hours! I have to get to school, now get out!” Tullia yelled, aggravated.

He coughed before looking down at the tub, red water was overflowing, getting the small mat by the counter wet. Quickly leaning forward he shut the water off. Getting to his feet was difficult, he felt weak and dizzy. The wet clothes only added weight. His feet sloshed water over the side, almost slipping he grabbed the door handle before hesitating.

“The sh-shower broke here.. Use yours.”

Tullia paused before sighing, “Mine only has cold water.”

“Just skip school, Tul…”

She almost laughed before trying to open the door, which Jake Kelly grunted and pushed his weight against it, “I’m serious, just go back to bed. I’ll call the school later.”

“Well… If you say so! Thanks!”

Letting out a sigh once her footsteps were gone, he turned back to the flooded bathroom.

“Shit.”

Two hours of mopping and drying, the bathroom was finally semi dry. Kelly put the small mat outside on the porch to dry. He then wrapped his arms up with plenty of bandages and medical tape to cover a whole person, but he didn’t want to take any risks.

A week of getting adjusted in this town was all it took, one week of bumping into strangers and one week of looking for a job. Tullia made a few friends from school, they would come over this weekend. Jake Kelly didn’t make any friends but got a job at the local supermarket, so he saw that as a good thing. He wasn’t looking for friends at the moment, he just needed something to distract him from school and keep him away from home. It seemed harsh but he felt as if something kept pushing him over and over and edge, he didn’t want to risk something he could avoid by not being near the cliff. The week was all he needed. His sister was making new friends, his job was working out well and his college classes seemed to be easier than he first thought. Everything was calm, everything was working out for the two siblings. It was finally peaceful.

“Hey,” His sister gently poked Kelly, “I’m going out with some friends, okay?”

Kelly nodded, looking away from his computer, “Okay. When will you be back?”

She shrugged before looking at the clock, “Dinner time, I promise.”

“Okay, be safe, don’t be stupid.”

Rolling her eyes she laughed softly, grabbing her coat and hurrying outside to her friends. Kelly could hear their laughter as they walked from the house, it was nice to know his sister was doing well.

Turning back to the computer he sighed, rubbing his face as he reread all of the instructions for his college worksheet. He changed his major three times since he started college. First it was music, then medical responder, and now he was on criminal psychology. Since he was a child psychology always seemed interesting, the whys and hows of people's mind, why did or didn’t do things, how they saw their world? It was always an interesting thought. But now since he was doing it, it was overwhelming.

He didn’t know what he wanted to do, what he was going to become after school. He didn’t even think he’d make it past sixteen so he’s been on autopilot, unsure what his next move would be. Every plan he had fell through his fingers, maybe he wasn’t so good at this. Truly he was scared. Scared he’d ruin his sisters life, scared that he didn’t do the right things in his life, scared he ruined it by doing nothing, by waiting and holding his breath. Watching every situation play out until he knew he wanted to put himself in there.

His mother said that was always a good quality, waiting and watching, but now with her gone he wasn’t sure if he’d ever been good at it. He waited, watched, never acted. He regretted so many things in his life; leaving the house that night, skipping the funeral, pulling him and Tullia out of their childhood home was the biggest regret. He wasn’t cut out to be responsible over someone. He had to be Tullia's parents, he needed to grow up faster, get a job faster, graduate school faster, find a house faster. Faster and faster and faster until Tullia could grow up happy, until she could go out on her own and become someone absolutely amazing.

Even six years after that accident they still weren’t over it. Kelly would hear Tullia pray at night, asking whoever was listening to bring her parents back, to make them be okay and for them to walk through her door and kiss her goodnight. Kelly found himself denying what had happened, tricking himself that it was just punishment for sneaking out. He believed it too, believed it right up to the point where he broke down and ran when he had to carry his parents casket. He ran and ran until he found himself far away from the funeral. Then he sobbed, sobbed until he could barely breathe.

Now twenty-two he could barely believe his parents were gone sometimes, but… He worried about Tullia, she was nine when they were murdered. Though he’s thankful she didn’t see the gore the killer left behind, even a few full grown cops couldn’t stomach the scene. Sixteen. Kelly was sixteen when his parents were murdered, the scene still fresh in his mind. He didn’t tell Tullia until she came home a few days later. But it wasn’t even home, it was a shelter. She was scared, she didn’t know where her parents were and why her brother seemed so angry. Kelly told her that they died, he never said how, he just said they died. She wailed, causing a few strangers to send her dirty glances in the small shelter home. Kelly stared them down as he held onto his sister, holding onto her and promising her it would be okay.

Jake Kelly taught her how to drive, how to cook traditional meals, how to clean, make her bed, how to do algebra and read novels properly, giving each character a different voice. He spent six odd years raising her, teaching her what her parents couldn’t. Kelly remembered when she had her period. God she was terrified, she thought she was dying, which made the teen laugh. But after sitting her down and telling her what was happening was natural, she seemed happier. He loaned her some of his products to help her. He was trying his best to raise her right, but it was hard. He was scared he was going to screw up and hurt her.

Now at fifteen Tullia seemed to not have a care in the world, the only thing on her mind was learning how to drive and which boy at this dumb town was cute and smart enough for her. Jake Kelly thought that was pretty funny, but he never got in her way, sometimes even encouraging her to speed down the roads and yell out of the windows. That's how they would bond, speeding down the dirt road and screaming the lyrics to some band Tullia didn’t know.

Jake Kelly sighed, rubbing his neck he got up, heading into the kitchen to prepare dinner. It wasn’t much, an Irish dinner, in respect to his parents. They were both full blooded Irish people, but somehow Jake Kelly never got their red hair, only brown eyes and even browner hair. It always made his parents laugh, even joking that they must’ve picked up the wrong child. Then when Tullia came out, brown hair and brown eyes, his parents didn’t joke. Genetics, he remembered, are really weird. They don’t always work the way you think.

Tullia hadn’t returned home at 6:00, exactly at dinner time.. Kelly had called her in for dinner, assuming she was outside playing with the other kids. Around 6:15 he had set the dinner table, putting the plates out for the two of them. It wasn’t odd that she wasn’t in yet, she did start making new friends, maybe she was eating at their houses and forgot to tell her older brother? Kelly frowned, his stomach churning as he looked over at his sister's spot, he knew she was safe, he knew… But something didn’t set right to him, he felt a tug at his heart, tugging that only Tullia could manage, only Tulia could make him so worked up over something so simple as forgetting to text him she’d be home late.

‘Tullia… Where are you?’ Sent at 6:17pm

‘I made boxty for dinner’ Sent at 6:20pm

‘Yes, I am aware that boxty is usually for breakfast but I thought I’d do something nice since I’ve been really busy lately. I hope you’re not upset with me.’ Sent at 6:30pm

None of the messages have been read, none of them had a reaction on Tullias part. Another tug sent him heading to his sisters still unpacked room, avoiding a few stacked boxes he began to search around, making sure she didn’t just up and leave, or at least left a note. A soft ding tore his attention from her vanity to her bed, he pulled off the soft pink pillows and frowned deeply. She left her phone. She never does that. Maybe the other children had their phones? His gut feeling told him otherwise as put the device back where it belonged.

“Damnit Tullia…” He muttered underneath his breath, shaking his head as he exited the bedroom, “You can’t just disappear like this, it’s not cool.”

Grabbing his coat from the small hook on the kitchen door he slipped it on, zipping up the coat with a sigh. The sun had gone down quite a bit, it would be smart to grab the flashlight. Just in case. Slipping the lights strap on his wrist, he headed out of the door and into the cold.

He tried knocking on the neighbors doors, windows and gates, but nobody answered. This really is a ghost town after dinner, he thought, almost laughing to himself if the circumstances were different.

“Tullia!” He yelled, flipping the flashlight on as his feet touched the edge of the woods, he warned his sister to stay away from there, he warned her, but she was stubborn and naturally curious, “Tullia are you in there?”

“I’m here!” She screamed back, panic was obvious in her voiced, “They’re gonna kill--”

Jake Kellys heart thumped hard in his chest. He didn’t think, didn’t have time to think as he bolted into the woods, weaving and dodging the branches thank hung low like disfigured limbs. His surroundings blurred together as he ran, god he didn’t know where he was going but his feet couldn’t stop moving, he couldn’t stop. A shriek caused him to stumble, falling to the dirt and groaning.

His head was spinning, “Tullia!” He called, only being met with silence, “Tullia! Tullia fucking answer me!”

Now normally he’d never curse at his little sister, but this was different. She could be dead, or hurt or something horrible could've happened to her and it would be all because of Jake Kelly. It was all his fault. Moving here. Getting her to make new friends. What if those new friends were hurting her? Getting to his feet he quickly looked around, unsure what direction he came from, or where the scream came from. God he was hopeless, but he couldn’t give up. He wouldn’t allow himself to give up, not again, not on Tullia.

“You!” He hurried towards a man dressed in formal black, “Have you seen a little girl, my sister she-”

Before he could get the sentence out the man turned, running into the thick forest with animal speed. Kelly chased behind him, the light shining in every direction, causing some birds to squawk angrily before flying off. His heart felt like it was about to burst, pumping and beating rapidly as he continued to follow the masked man deeper into the forest until he saw where he was headed. It was a gathering of sorts, different people dressed in the same outfit as the man, all wearing blank white masks as they chanted something.

Jake Kelly slowed his pace, more astound than anything. God this looked like a scene from a cult movie, the symbols on the old trees, the chanting, all it needed was a sacrifice. His stomach dropped as he spotted Tullia laying on the ground, her face covered with a white bag. His knuckles turned white was he made his hands into fist, despite every bone in his body to think of a good plan he raced to his little sister. Falling down on his knees he swooped his arms under her, picking her up and cradling her.

“Nng…” Tullia groaned, “Jake…?”

“Shh, I’m getting you out, okay?” He promised.

Getting to his feet he turned to the others, their chanting suddenly stopped as they stared back through their masks. They didn’t move to attack, or to stop Kelly. They stood there, stiff and still like strange statues.

One finally spoke up, “Put the child back, it is for The Dark Man.”

Their voice, among many other things, sent shivers down the man's spine, how could someone have such a detached voice? No emotion, no anything. Just empty words.

“What?” He blinked, slowly pulling the bag off of his sisters face, relieved she didn’t suffer any physical harm there, “No.”

“They’re batshit insane,” Tullia whispered, tightening her grip around her brother's neck, “They keep talking about some tall dude, they wanna sacrifice me, Jake..!”

Her tears made Jake Kellys heart break in two. He loved his sister oh so much, why would anyone hurt her?

“Give it back and we’ll ask Him to kill it swiftly.”

“Stop saying ‘it’!” He screamed, “She’s my sister, not some fucking sacrifice for you!”

“Fine. You get one minute to talk with it before we kill the two of you for Him.”

Kelly’s eyes widened as he stepped away from the others, putting his sister down he rested his hand on her shoulders. Now, he didn’t have any sage advice for her, no wise words that will surely get them out of here, but what he did and what he always will have, was a plan. A plan that seemed flawless in his mind.

“Tullia, listen to me,” He whispered, leaning in close to her so the others couldn’t hear, “You’re going to run as fast as you can, no matter what, okay? Don’t turn back, keep running till you get to the house. Get your keys, and your cellphone, run out of the house and drive away in the truck, it doesn’t matter where you go just get far away from here, okay?”

“No.. No, I don’t want to leave you! What if they-“

“Shh,” Jake Kelly kissed her forehead, wrapping his arms tightly around her as he shook his head, “it’ll work out. Just make sure you’re safe, I will find you.”

“Promise,” Her voice shook as tears gathered in her eyes, “Promise me you’ll come back.”

“I promise.”

That seemed to satisfy the girl as she took off running, making the others scream turning at the boy with their masks removed. He noticed the town was there, god the whole town was part of this batshit crazy shit? What the hell. Even the elderly like Gerald, who seemed to be a nice guy at first but now… This whole town was flipped upside down this night.

“You’ll be a fine offering for Him,” Gerald said, brandishing a large hunting knife, “You should’ve stayed home, little boy.”

Jake Kelly scowled as he balled his fists, staring at the crowd of townspeople. He lacked strength, that was already proven weeks ago, but he could think circles around these idiots. He knew he needed a plan, a fast one, but his mind was only filled with questions. He could stall, no one had followed his sister, so he could hold out, let her escape and then think of a solution for himself. He fell flat. He couldn’t think of a damn thing.

“You’re all batshit insane,” He scoffed, “the police are gonna find you.”

“Like they found your parents?” One spoke up.

Another bellowed a horrible laugh, “We know you, Jake Kelly. We know your family.”

“Your friends,” Said Gerald, “and that little accident you pulled on yourself.”

He instinctively pulled his arms to his chest, they burned at the mere mention of that incident.

“You’re weak,” They spoke at once, the crowds voices chanting together as Kellys ears rang, “You are a failure. You can’t protect yourself. You can’t protect Tullia. He’s always watching you, Kelly.”

“Shut up!” He shrieked, covering his ears with his hands, nails digging into his head, “Shut up! All of you! You’re all so fucking annoying!”

Silence fell over the crowd, their faces, their eyes staring holes into Kelly's skin. They didn’t speak for some odd time, letting the quiet seap over the man.

“He won’t be here,” One whispered, “we need a backup plan. Tie him down and I’ll get the book.”

The others nodded, watching as the other ran towards a small set up, grabbing an old leathery book with a grin. The others broke off from the group, surrounding Kelly as they yelled to him, words he couldn’t make out. He was stuck in the sea of crazy people. Suddenly he had an idea, it wasn’t a good one, but it was an idea.

“Stop! I’ll let you tie me up,” He screamed to the, the shouting stopped. “Tie me up.’

Holding out his hands he shut his eyes, ropes scraped against his skin, tightening around his body before he was knocked to the ground. His breath left his lungs as they dragged him towards the one reading from the old book. His heart beated hard in his chest, he tried his best to calm down to little avail.

“Don’t be scared,” One whispered to him, “you’ll be brand new once you wake up.”

“What? What do you-”

The hunting knife came down onto Jake Kelly's chest, the blade cutting him open with little effort. It didn’t seem natural, it wasn’t natural. The blade cutting through his skin like butter and a war knife. His vision began to blur as he heard the crowd chant strange words. Sure, it didn’t look like the plan was working to the outsiders, but it was for him. He didn’t plan on leaving the forest alive, only for Tullia to. He knew she was safe by now, so he didn’t fight, the struggling leaving his body as his last breath went out for Tullia. Praying she’d escape and never look back.

The fluttering of the butterflies' wings sturred the man awake. The butterfly paid no mind to him as it crawled over his face, slowly marching onward to his fingers. The wings seemed to twitch with the man's nose, its beautiful translucent wings flapped, raising itself into the sky as he slowly, very slowly sat up. His eyes adjusted to the dim light, looking down he blinked. The blue butterfly looked back at him, as if asking what he was planning to do. He didn’t have an answer.

He must’ve dreamed that up, he thought, getting out of his bed with a groan. His body ached, feeling heavy and stiff as he shuffled to the bathroom. Flipping on the light he gasped, taking himself in as he stared at his reflection.

The most noticeable difference was the large gash on his chest. He put one finger over it, the blood semi-wet as the wound was open, he lightly poked it, wincing in quick response.. Looking back in the mirror he leaned in, pulling his hand from his chest to his bloody face. He pulled on his cheek, his right eye completely white. His mouth was bloody as well as his nose, gore between his teeth as he licked his canine tooth, it was sharper than normal. Longer.

Normally, he would’ve been horrified as his mind filled with clips of last night. His teeth in their throat, ripping the skin away from their body, eating it as they screamed with horror. It’s what they deserved. He remembered tearing their faces off, parts of it at least as he screamed with rage. Rage he didn’t know he had. Rage he didn’t know he could ever possess. Normally he would be horrified, but instead he stripped his clothes off, got into the shower and let the cold water run down his body.

He stared at the white tiles on the wall, lifting his hand to trial his finger down one. He didn’t feel bad, but he felt something. Something in his stomach that told him what he did was evil. Common sense, most likely. Ignoring it he let out a laugh. He couldn’t stop laughing, turning into a high pitched shriek, his laughter bouncing off the walls as he grabbed his face, digging his dirty nails into his skin. His laughter died down into a quiet sob, almost being drowned out by the water hitting the tiles. Almost.

Getting out of the tub he grabbed a towel, drying himself off and tossing it into the hamper. He walked to his bedroom, shaking the water from his hair as he slammed the door shut.

What happened last night was real, he concluded, I’m a monster. No, another part of him shut that thought down, they hurt you and you hurt them worse, you did good. You hurt them and now they won't hurt you. But, what I did was horrible, I literally ate someone's face! So? There’s worse people out there. Rapists and child killers, you’re not like them, you’re better than that. You got revenge, don’t you feel better? Yeah, I do. See, it’s not that bad. Stop worrying and start planning, the cops will be here, won't they?

That thought got him moving, he grabbed his school back, emptied it, and began shoving things into it. His computer, underwear, toothbrush and toothpaste, deodorant, socks, shirts and sweatpants. He paused, looking down, unsure if he needed these things at all. There were no cops in sight, no one called them, he got rid of the whole town! Why did he have to pack up and leave? This was his home! He paid for it!

Tullia. She’s out there, still running. I need to find her and keep her safe.

Slinging the bag over his shoulder he ran out of the house, grabbing his phone off of the kitchen table along with a portable charger, he fled the house on foot. At least until he broke into his neighbors pickup truck and drove out of the town.

He felt free, as if nothing could hold him back anymore, he never felt like this before. God it was so good. He didn’t have to worry about anything anymore, he just needed to find Tullia, explain what happened and then they’d both be free to do whatever they’d like. No more rules, no more people staring and judging them. No more. No more. No more anything, that thought was so thrilling.

“Now what?” Another voice asked, causing Jake Kelly to jump and look around the truck, “I’m starving, let's get a bite to eat.”

His stomach growled as he nodded, pulling over to a small convenience store. Parking the truck he grabbed his phone, opening the case to pull out his debit card, sighing softly. He couldn’t remember if he refilled it or not, all well, he’ll pay off the fines later. Getting out of the truck, he shut the door and headed inside.

Walking down the isles of snack foods, beer and some phone chargers, nothing seemed to interest him. His stomach growled louder as he scowled, becoming impatient as he grabbed a handful of chicken wraps and dropped them onto the counter. He glared at the cashier who snickered softly.

“Someone’s hungry,” She said, smiling softly as she scanned his food, “That’ll be fifteen-twenty, dear.”

He licked his teeth as he watched her. She wasn’t large, but she did have a lot of meat on her bones. Her skin seeed soft, easy to bite into as he leaped over the counter, slamming the girl down onto the ground.

“Hey! Help- Mmmph!!”

Covering her mouth Jake Kelly laughed, slamming her head back onto the hard ground. He sunk his teeth into her neck, blood trickling down his chin as he swallowed. He felt as if he was starving, he couldn’t even chew, only focused on getting it into his body. He dug his nails into the girl's eyes, her screaming sending a jolt up Kellys spine. He popped one eye out of her socket, chuckling softly as he took a bite from her plump cheek. She tasted nice, she obviously ate well. He licked his lips, looking down at the cashier with a smirk, his teeth ripping her throat open in one quick movement. Gurgling and then falling silent, her blood pooled around her, getting onto his face and clothing.

Getting off of the woman he hopped back over the counter, grabbing a few packs of gum and a lottery ticket for the hell of it. He always had bad luck. He turned, sprinting out of the store and jumping into his car with a howl. Peeling out of the lot and speeding down the old road was the best part of his get away.

Now with a full stomach, he was in a much better mood, blaring some pop-rock song on the radio and singing along despite not knowing the lyrics. He felt like a brand new person, someone who wouldn’t sit and wait, not anymore. He didn’t want to plan ahead, he wanted to just go and run, attack and think later. The strange voice in his head laughed along, deep and strange, he didn’t bother it, laughing along as he wiped his chin. Running past redlights and street signs, he had no idea where he was going, but the voice in his head apparently knew where to steer him. He trusted this voice, until he was headed right for a tree.

“Hey! Stop!” He yelled over the music, trying desperately to jerk the wheel, “Stop!”

The wheel wouldn’t budge, as if something was holding it there, he tried the breaks, tried unstrapping but nothing would work. He was stuck there, watching everything unravvel in slow motion. He felt as if he was watching from above, his hands covering his face as he seemed to shrink in size, screaming as the car collided with the tree. The tree snapping and falling onto the car. He felt heavy, his head spinning as blood dripped from his nose. Nausea hit him like a pile of bricks, he needed to vomit. He needed to get out of this car, he needed something to happen. His vision blurred once more as he noticed a branch lodged into his chest, the same wound that he first saw when he woke up at home. Chuckling weakly he shut his eyes, letting the numbness and nausea fall over him, slumping forward on the drives wheel. The airbag activated and slammed him backward into the seat, making him groan in pain.

His eyes strained as he slowly sat up in a new bed, he looked around, noticing his bag in the corner. He wiped his forehead, his stomach aching as he slowly shifted. His phone was on the nightstand, charging. He had no new messages. He was in a plain bedroom, no decor, not paint. Plain and boring. For once this calmed him down. His head was spinning as he tried to recall what had happened. He pulled the grey sheets off of him, looking down at his shirt, it was clean. He pulled it off, checking his chest scar. It was stitched and cleaned, he must’ve went to a hospital. He didn’t try to leave the bed, he wasn’t stupid enough to get out and explore some random place.

Grabbing his phone he sighed, rubbing his thumb over the cracked screen.He decided to text Tullia, he had no idea how long it’s been since they last talked. The last message he sent her was when she went missing, that was December. It’s February now. Was he asleep this whole time? He had no memory of anything, he couldn’t recall the missed weeks.

‘Tullia, you okay?’ Sent at 9:00pm.

He stared at the phone for almost an hour, holding his breath as he waited for a reply. There wasn’t one. His mind started to come up with the worst possibilities. She didn’t make it out, she was hunted and killed. She died. God she was dead and alone, she died scared and alone. She died because of me, she’s dead now, isn’t she?

“No..” He frowned, “The car wasn’t there.. She must’ve taken the car like I told her. She’s safe. She’s safe and she will text me back when she wakes up.”

Sure he could say that as much as he wanted but he had no idea if it was true or not, he wouldn’t know until he found out. He needed to find her, he didn’t want her to be hurt or worse. Putting his phone down beside him he flipped his arms over, looking down at the scars on his flesh. It stretched from his wrist to his elbow, one thicker than the other, one neater than the other. Right now he wished he could try again, this time not mess something up as simple as that.

His phone pinged, he quickly grabbed it before scowling.

“I’ve been added to a group chat? By fucking who?” He scowled.

Tapping on the group chat and looking through the contacts, he didn’t know any of these people, but he was connected to their wifi so it must’ve been whoevers house he was staying in. That was a fun thought, not knowing any of the people in the house you’re in, that’s fun. Really fucking fun.

#creepypasta #oc creepypasta #my writing #jake kelly

[oddmerit]

i love seeing a new indie game where the main artist was in the taz fandom years ago and two of their main characters are almost identical to their taako and magnus designs. i hope that if i become a beloved artist on a project one day, someone can point to part of my work that's blatantly a rip from one of my fandom designs. as a fun little easter egg

#unidentified gay noise

[katherine-of-earth]

Impressions of the DC Pride Parade (Trigger Warning: We Thought It Was a Shooting)

Before the fear, there was a girl with shining eyes, who draped a string of beads around my neck with the loveliest of smiles.

Before the fear, there was a family, beaming as they strolled down the street, the young child holding a sign that read "I love my dads."

Before the fear, there were hundreds of hopeful young faces turned up towards the windows of a bus filled with their elders-- those who lived.

Before the fear, there was hope and joy and defiance. Before the fear, there was love and acceptance.

Then there was the fear. Three or four loud pops, a noise that meant very little to me until I saw the wave of people desperately pressing over the barracade. Then, the screams. We ran, no questions, no thought, just fear and self preservation. Get away, get away, oh God please, no! In those first few panicked minutes, I lost sight of my friend. I slowed for a second, scanning the horror-stricken faces. People bumped into me... There was no slowing down, not yet. I found my friend and together we kept running, trying above all else to get away from any danger. Finally, we thought we were safe. We were several blocks away now, and could hear the sound of sirens, hopefully indicating safety. We stopped, standing still in shock.

"What happened?" The question on the lips of everyone around us.

"We don't know, we don't know, I think there were shots!" The confused and scared response.

We walked, my friend and I, hoping to hear some news, some explanation. But then people began to run again. No, no, no, not again, please no! We ran once more, fearing for our lives. Then we stopped, desperately hoping all was well.

The buildings of DC loomed around us, casting the streets in a burgeoning twilight. "I want to get the fuck out of here," I said, trying to remain cool and calm. I pulled up a map on my phone, trying to find the closest Metro station that was not DuPont Circle (where we had just run from).

We began to make our way to the Foggy Bottom station, an area of the city I was more familiar with. However, it was not long before people around us again began to run. This time, we followed a small throng into a nearby building, hoping for shelter. We found ourselves in a small classroom. There were maybe fifteen of us huddled in the room. There was a teenage girl sobbing under a table in the corner and children crying, asking their mom what was going on. My friend grabbed a heavy book from the shelf and prepared to defend the door. I knelt in prayer by another door, appealing to God for our safety while trying to guard the other entrance. The faces around me were so, so young. The colorful rainbow gear contrasted starkly with the terror on so many faces. Somewhere in the building, a fire alarm was wailing. Finally, a young guy came in and told us it was safe, that, though it was uncertain what, exactly, had happened, there was no present danger. The girl still sobbed in the corner, but the tension in the room began to abate. We lingered there for a bit longer, before eventually my friend and I ventured outside. There were cops at practically every corner and people were walking again. We kept heading for Foggy Bottom. The streets were littered with detritus-- dropped phones, drinks, rainbow merch, and trash. The fear had not left us, though we began to converse again. We made it to the Metro Station and returned safely home.

This morning, the news informs me that there was no shooting. There was never any active danger, the crowd had panicked at an unidentified noise. What those news stations do not say is: in the current political and cultural climate in this country, who could blame us?

For so many of us who were there, this Pride will have been tainted by the fear. By echoes of the anger and the hatred which, while not present in physical form in DC that day, definitely exists in this country. As an asexual person, this was my first Pride--fear had kept me from attending in the past. Fear of being identified with the gay and lesbian community by a hateful world, fear of being rejected by the LGBT community as someone who does not quite fit. Before the fear, the vibrancy of the community rose up around me, and it did not matter that my kind of love is different. While certainly the memories of this Pride will be haunted by the feeling that I or my friend or the people around me were going to die, I will cling tightly to the memories of those three hours before. I want to remember that, before the fear, there was a girl with shining eyes, who whispered: "Happy Pride."

#pride #lgbtq #dc pride #ace thoughts

[letstalksymphogear]

Symphogear, EP. 5

LAST TIME ON SINGY WINGY

ANGRY GREMLIN BEAT UP GOOD BY SUICIDE MOVE SURVIVE BLUE BIRD YES. BLUE BIRD GO TO HOSPITAL FOR WATER METAPHOR WITH AFTERLIFE GIRLFRIEND. TINY BIRD SAD, BUT THEN NOT GET SAD! JACKIE CHAN TIME AFTER MUCH THINKING. WIFE WORRIED ABOUT THINGS. SOMETHING SOMETHING PUNCH GOOD NOW.

Let us continue.

Miku wakes up to see her wife has run off yet again. This is the part of the Sam Reimi’s Spiderman franchise phase where the Mary Jane (not weed) begins having a rockier relationship with Peter Parker (not slang for penis) due to lack of availability.

It’s contrived.

It’s almost impressive that she left a note and had time to draw a tiny Hibiki saying something in a bubble. Glad to see you have your priorities straight, Hibiki.

“you know she might have had a better time in the local art school that doodle aint half bad”

Hibiki is motherfucking Rocky all up in this.

She’s going to kick some ass and nobody’s getting in the way.

“YOU’RE GONNA EAT LIGHTING AND YOU’RE GONNA CRRRRRAP THUNDER TACHIBANAAAAA”

“THAT’S A DIET I CAN GET BEHIND”

I wasn’t joking when I said she’s not fucking around anymore. Did you think I was joking? I can see how you can get the impression given the first few episodes, but I really can’t emphasize the thoroughness of the ass kicking she is going to be capable of.

“MY FATHERLY ENERGIES ARE WORKING! ADOPTERS ANONYMOUS WAS WRONG AFTER ALL!”

That’s totally not ominous in the slightest.

Meanwhile, in the middle of an unnamed McMansion in the middle of who knows where...

Gratuitously spoken English is heard. To be fair, it’s actually really impressive pronunciation coming from people whose native language are systemically different to ours. Most shows would just settle for “this dude is actually speaking english but everything is said in japanese for better interpretation” but not Symphogear! No siree!

Relic business is afoot.

We have a random blonde lady shooting random Noise from the thing The Gremlin had in her hands.

She’s really trying her best with her accent. She’s also casually shooting Noise because let’s face it, would we not do the same if it were in our hands?

“i do whatever i want with my big stiff rod pal”

Also, she’s a nudist. To also be fair, if you lived in a fuckoff rich McMansion with weapons beyond your comprehension, you likely couldn’t help but walk around naked doing whatever the fuck you want.

The people she’s talking to are the Americans, which we explained before are portrayed strictly in an antagonistic light. They want some relics, and this lady clearly deals them like like some sort of glorified drug dealer.

Suffice it to say, she’s not a very nice person.

Also, the subs don’t match what they’re saying in English in the slightest.

The name of this woman... is Fine (pronounced fi-neh). And she is the main antagonist of this series.

Fucking identical.

And here is the most unpleasant scene in the entire season.

The person we’ve repeatedly alluded to as The Gremlin is called Yukine Chris. She serves Fine in whatever the hell they’re up to right now. In this case, it’s using the Nehushtan armor to run around with Solomon’s Cane to throw Noise around the city.

“shits gonna get real abusive, pal”

Fine is a narcissistic sociopath. She’s manipulated Chris into servitude by believing she is the only one that can pave humanity into salvation.

“i dont like that smile”

Chris thinks Fine can secure her deepest wish. Ironically? It’s world peace.

“yeah! yeah yeah, world peace, yeah, totally. just treat me like jesus and we’re gucci”

Anyway, she proceeds to thoroughly shock Chris.

The lore behind this is that this is helping her resistance with dealing with the physical demands of the Nehushtan armor, as well as deal with the pieces of Nehushtan that may be still inside. Let’s be real, though. Fine’s a sadist, and just likes hurting people willy nilly.

“fuck... that hurt like shit... hey wait... wouldnt some of the electrical arcs hit you and shock you too, given you’re so naked and close to all this...?”

“ya nevermind that food looks real nice and i want a piece of that fuckin turkey”

It’s a real creepy scene, and it cements Fine’s horribleness really well. One of the most pivotal things to take note is that Fine says that people can only communicate with each other universally through pain. Strong, terrible BDSM overtones notwithstanding, this will be a common (though varying in quality) motif of the entire series.

“BITCH YOU THOUGHT WE WAS GUNNA EAT AFTER THAT FUCKIN’ WISECRACK ABOUT GETTING SHOCKED LIKE YOU’RE EVEN FUCKIN’ NIKOLAI TESLA ALL UP IN HERE WE’RE GONNA ELECTRIC SLIDE YOUR ASS TO NEXT WEEK”

“FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK”

“WHERE THE FUUUUUUUCK IS HIBIKI?!”

“i was gonna invite her to the circus with the rest of the class ‘cause i felt bad about how i treated her but i guess she’s not here”

“the only clown im interested in is hibiki, in the carnival tent of my own bedroom”

“isn’t being a part of /fit/ great, hibiki? can you just feel the gains?”

“yeah who needs doting wife based significant others when you have your gym bros, right newly acquired father figure?”

Hibiki, having acquired a new brain cell during her training, asks the million dollar question:

“Why the fuck are we relying on schoolgirls to deal with all this stuff?”

“anime just be that way, hibiki. i’m just the wrong protagonist in the wrong show.”

Japan is super big on keeping the Symphogear a secret because they are strong and the world really, really wants a slice of the Symphogear pie. These people are basically walking super-weapons. Tsubasa literally dropped a sword the size of a skyscraper. It’s like the premise of the series of Iron Man films.

“do i get like a superhero name too or”

Something to wrap your head around. This was released around 2012, and while the setting seems to be slightly more futuristic, the world it was made in at the time had not been through the era of social media/smartphones we have right now. It was on the cusp of doing so, which means the idea of decent (yet vertical) amateur footage of things happening wasn’t something in the mainstream yet. Why do I say this?

Because in Symphogear, the fact that Symphogear exist is the biggest open secret in this unidentified city ever. NDAs are passed like hotcakes to keep people’s mouths shut on seeing monster-fighting singing superheroes. And they sing, too! Symphogears as an entity are the most high-profile fighting agents out there. Bright colors, no masks, constant singing, fighting in broad daylight in populated areas. Everybody knows, but no one says a word.

Which means every politician on the face of Japan hates these idiots, but they’re stuck with them out of sheer necessity.

“i swear to god if you bring up sam reimi’s spiderman one more goddamned time”

“look it’s the truth, all anime comes back to sam reimi’s spiderman. fate zero did it. uhhh, fucking...baccano, probably? now us. face it. its pretty much the bible.”

It’s also pointed out that the very concept of a Symphogear is born from a science that didn’t exist, and it probably contributes to political frustration as well.

“im going to microwave all your sam reimi spiderman dvds. im gonna do it. you try me, motherfucker. i didnt go into acting and get into this position to hear lectures about a decades old film franchise nobody cares about anymore.”

“can we stop fighting about the validity of sam reimi’s spiderman for five seconds and get back to helping me thing of a dope as hell superhero name? now, lemme lay one on you: Mister Fister”

Hibiki asks where Code Ryoko is.

“any answer besides Not Here works”

“oh, she left to talk to the americans, why?”

“huh, shes sorta late, actually”

“WHY A BAD BITCH LIKE ME GOTTA GET STUCK IN TRAFFIC LIKE THIS”

In the mother of all Mom Vans, no less.

MEANWHILE... IN METAPHOR LIMBO...

Tsubasa has reached the sea floor of the water metaphor dimension surrounded by water, which is her feelings, which are very gay. Imagine the Mariana Trench but like, deeper. Way deeper. That’s where Tsubasa is.

Leave it to Kazanari “I am literally a sword” Tsubasa to successfully spin the very act of surviving a suicidal move during combat as a failure. That’s a special kind of self loathing right there.

“the sheer force of my love for big ladies is keeping me alive”

Tsubasa asks about the point of Kanade’s sacrifice. Why’d she do it? Why was she so hungry at the end?

She personally shows up to answer that question, because that’s Kanade for you.

“being badass is cool, but you know whats cooler? caring.”

“sharing the sauce... you... you shared the sauce...”

“thats right, tsubasa. i wanted to protect the sauce, but... ultimately... sharing it was better. it wasn’t my sauce, tsubasa. it was everyone’s...”

“im gonna suck on a ketchup packet in your memory, tsubasa”

Kanade’s spirit pulls her out of the dimension of water metaphors as she is slowly undrowning from her emotions.

Tsubasa, like Kanade, was lost in the sauce. But now, after Kanade’s touching peptalk, Tsubasa is lost no longer.

“will i ever see you again in my dreams, kanade...?”

“where there’s a sauce. i’ll be there.”

“ill eat taco bell every day just to see you again kanade”

“and i dont even like taco bell... im more of a chipotle girl...”

After accepting Taco Bell as her lord and savior, she is immediately pulled out of the metaphor zone.

And wakes the fuck up.

“b..... b..... b............”

“Baja Blast....”

#symphogear #symphogear season 1 #anime #comedy #recap

[colorofmymindposts]

Roaming the Greenwood

Fandom: Maurice — E.M. Forster, Maurice (1914), Maurice (1987) Pairing: Kitty Hall/Violet Tonks, Maurice Hall/Alec Scudder Rating: Gen Status: Complete Word Count: 949 Summary: Kitty discovers two men so very similar to herself and her friend, but their differences cannot be reconciled. Tags: Slight Canon Divergence, Social Commentary, Intersectionality Issues, Gays in Love But They Don’t Know How to Support Their Community, Set in 1934, My Version of an Epilogue  Story: 

The sanguine greenwood, unkempt, looming, and ancient in its prowess reminded Kitty very little of the pristine and bordered Domestic Institute she once attended as a girl. She said as much to her Violet, with whom she walked arm in arm.

“That’s why I suggested we take our walk here. There’s a privacy to this place unlike any other in England,” her friend said intelligently.

Always a fanatic for learning, Kitty never minded the way in which she was continually reeducated by Violet. Goodness knows their heads were filled with nothing but rubbish at that girls’ school where they met so long ago.

“I should think that would be ideal for our purposes, don’t you think?”

Needing no further prompting, Kitty took Violet’s face in her hands and kissed her sweetly, her pert, soft lips melting into Kitty’s own. Their kisses were languid and unhurried, neither passion or fear of discovery propelling them forward. Their bodies were comfortable and attuned to each other, and Kitty began to stroke Violet’s cheek gently with her fingers while her lover’s arms circled round Kitty’s waist. Their love was practically palpable in the air, chorused by birdsong.

Of course, it would only be when Kitty was contemplating leaving daring violet marks upon Violet’s neck that a thwack! noise unidentifiable in the deep woods startled them and had them apart immediately, smoothing down their skirts consciously.

“Couldn’t have been an animal, I suppose,” Kitty surmised, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it to calm her nerves. All her friend had to do was extend her hand, and Kitty placed one between her proffered fingers, cupping the lighter as it set the cigarette alight before Violet brought it to her deliciously wet, swollen lips.

“It’s likely a hunter,” Violet said after taking a long drag. “Although they shouldn’t be this close to town. We really ought to tell them off before they kill one of us by accident.”

“Really Violet, you say the most morbid things,” she admonished lightly even though she liked it.

Her friend rebutted her firmly still. “I say the most morbid things about men, you should note. I radiate perfect pleasantness when I speak of any other subject, especially you, my dear.”

Kitty scoffed, knowing this was meant to mollify her. A teasing remark came to mind, and she could not help but pursue it. “The hunter could be a woman. You don’t know.”

“As if! A gentle lady or a woman of lower rank in our society would never. I doubt even if we Socialists were to have our way women and men would all occupy the same positions. Besides, it goes against our teachings at the Domestic Institute. I think Miss Forster would have a conniption if women were to take the traditional places of men.”

“We did in the Great War,” Kitty contested. “I think anyway that Miss Forster would have a conniption if she saw what we’ve shared in the woods. And in dormitories, and our bedroom…”

Kitty was unable to finish this thought as they both burst into giggles unceremoniously at the thought of the red-nosed, severe, Christian-suffering school marm discovering they were disciples of Sappho and Radclyffe Hall.

Twigs snapping in the near distance sobered their newfound mirth, however, and again they were on guard. The sounds were closer than before, and the women sought out each others’ hands for reassurance, choosing to hide behind some towering shrubs. Once the figures could be seen through a small parting in the bushes, Kitty realized they hardly had any need to be worried. Two woodcutters lumbered through the greenwood, and somehow it seemed as though the men belonged there and always had, like the trees that shrouded the four of them, herself, Violet, and the woodcutters, altogether from the prying eyes of society. There was something so familiar in the gait of the one man, perhaps the color of his hair as well, but Kitty simply could not place it in that peculiar moment. Transfixed as she was, she was equally disgusted. It was very rare that she had to encounter anyone outside of clean-cut suburbs, and the result produced in this instance had her distressed at how unabashedly dirt and filth clung to their clothes, how they were so uncaring of how they were perceived. It seemed simultaneously a great mistake and privilege they held unlike a woman of her upbringing.

The one man with curiously curly hair turned to his companion in confusion. “I could’ve sworn I’s smelt smoke in bout these parts.”

“Well, I see no fire or any indication of one. I think we’re in no danger today, Alec,” the other replied, in a voice much more polished and well-bred, finishing with an endearing smile.

“If there’s was someone or other, I’d chase ‘em out. This place belongs to you and me alone, sir,” the last word placed with some kind of emphasis, an inside joke or tell Kitty could not understand. The fair-haired man threw back his head and laughed mirthfully. He wrapped an arm around his shorter fellow’s shoulders and staggered on out of the clearing deeper into the green.

It was clear the nature of their relationship, a friendship tinged with illicit intimacy, a dynamic she knew all too well. But there was something about the two, of their status (or lack thereof) and immediate call to seek out and identify, as though the greenwood was theirs alone. It did not settle well in her stomach at all. Silently, she turned to Violet, pressing a finger to her own lips to indicate they should leave this place quietly. It was evidently never meant for them in more ways than one. 

Author Notes: This idea obviously comes from Forster's concept for a potential epilogue with Kitty, Maurice, and Alec; while I am aware that there is an existing version of this epilogue, I wanted to explore some of the nuances of Maurice's and Kitty's characters, especially Kitty since we see/read so little of her in the film/novel.

This also serves as some steaming hot commentary on class privilege with lesbians who identify as sapphic versus those who are more comfortable with dyke and less intellectual terminology. I also try to address early gatekeeping in the mlm community, which you will hopefully see what I mean in a bit. I feel like Forster's oversimplification of the female characters in his novel (like saying Kitty would immediately disapprove of Maurice/Alec, which serves no other purpose than being a mouthpiece for society rather than being her own character) stems from his misogyny, and I wanted to address that through this fic. 

While this novel was Way ahead of its time and so important, it's exclusively focused on a gay male narrative and thoroughly assumes all women are attracted to men; plus my lesbian brain couldn't help but ship Kitty and Violet after Kitty *brought her friend home* in chapter 29 much like Maurice had many times with Clive, no? And Kitty never marries in the novel so this could totally happen. I am aware Violet is not a character in the film and that she was not mentioned in Forster's epilogue, but I added her anyways. Please let me know what you think of my version! 

#maurice 1914 #maurice 1987 #e.m. forster #kitty hall #violet tonks #maurice hall #alec scudder #kitty x violet #maurice x alec #my writing #fanfiction #complete

[goblin-wlw]

My Hoard So Far!!!

Mostly they are gemstones, but I also have lots and lotsa dice! The click-clack rocks make good noises and are pretty colors. 

My identified rocks that I use for my rituals. I have Obsidian (including snowflake), White Opal, Gold and Red Tiger’s Eye, Turquoise, Malachite, Green Fluorite, Red Jasper, Mother of Pearl, Rose Quartz, Clear Quartz, Moonstone, Cat’s Eye, Ukanite, Iron Pyrite, Moqui Marble, Selenite, LOTS of Amethyst, and Blue Agate.

My so-far-unidentified rocks that I love. The shiniest one does that glow when in the sun! I love that shiny very much. It is rainbow colored and very gay. A quality rock.

And my math rocks! They are all very shiny, except the brown ones. But they feel just like bones so they are still valid additions to my hoard. 12/10. Want more.

All I have so far besides lots of candles and little jars with nothing in them yet. Will update as my hoard gets v big and exciting. 

#goblin #goblincore #goblin hoard #shinies #gemstones #pretty rocks