this juri screencap feels like a handy reaction image so i'm sharing it here too

Monster. (Underfell!Papyrus X Reader.)

Run.

That’s all you could think of.

Run.

She was closing in on you.

Run.

The door wasn’t much further.

RUN.

Your hands firmly held the handle and pulled it. The door swung open, and you took the chance and darted out. The unholy screech of fear and desperation pierced your ears and into your very soul. However, just because you were on the other side, it didn’t mean that nothing would stop her from opening it and snatching you back in.

Your feet immediately started treading through the harsh snow. Your heart was still racing, allowing you to ignore the harsh cold nipping at any exposed skin you may have had. You tried to rid the horrific noise she made by focusing on where you were now. You were always told, by multiple people, that you should never look back. That kind of lesson could apply to many things, but in this context, you were away from the goat monster and now in an environment where anything could pop out of these woods.

You continued in your most applicable choice of footwear. The tread marks were, unfortunately, imprinted in the snow. As much as you thought about covering them up, you soon realized that going back meant you would leave even more footprints, so it was best to continue forward. A few steps ahead was a log, one large enough to make an appropriate resting spot, but you knew well enough from the flower that it was “kill or be killed.” Any point of resting, especially in an open area, would put you at risk for God knows what, so you quietly sighed as you stepped over it.

You yawned once your heart started to finally slow down. It showed just how drained you were since the moment you understood that Toriel was mentally unstable. It further didn’t help that weakness began to show itself in your legs, making you regret stepping over the log more with every second. Despite your body’s protests, you kept going.

Not lingering too far behind was a broad skeleton wearing a typical winter jacket. He, for once, didn’t rest and make puns with the monster on the other side like he normally did. He suspected something was awry, and he wasn’t wrong for acting on those suspicions. However, he didn’t expect those suspicions to involve such a weak creature.. or so he thought.

He stood before the log you stepped over and grimaced upon it. His usual toothy grin contorted into a snarl as he lifted his leg, unleashing a loud CRUNCH from within its lifeless bark, and making your head snap around as he vanished from existence.

Well, that made you look back.

You decided to keep going, knowing fully well that going back was one of the stupidest decisions in existence to make. While your weakness was debilitating enough to cross out the option of running, it didn’t stop you from picking up the speed of your walking pace. It was only a few more feet till you were forced to stop, as the bars in front of you were too narrow to squeeze through. You thought about going around, as the gate did end, but looking over and seeing the spikes made you realize that it was just as pointless.

You analyzed the door and noticed that it lacked the typical lock and chain you’d often see on media. In fact, it didn’t even have a lock from the looks of it, which only confused you more as you know what prison doors looked like. Nevertheless, you saw this as an advantage and decided to try and open it. Your first instinct was to go one way, but it didn’t budge, so you tried the opposite direction, in which it still didn’t move. You then tried to see if maybe it would slide, as some doors can do just that. Even this proved to be completely useless.

“Fuck my life.” you muttered.

A deep chuckle sent your heart racing again. You had no choice but to turn around and see the bony monster laughing at your frustrations.

“It’s a decoy, human.” he croaked.

Despite your heart racing, your face expressed more of an annoyance at the statement than fear of the monster in front of you. Of course it was a decoy. A cruel joke had to happen at some point.

His shark-toothed grin widened at your expression. He even started to shake, a shake usually shown by someone who tries to hold in their laughter. You wanted to smile in response to him laughing, but you were torn between it and the possibility of whatever may happen to you now that you’re interacting with him.

He held his hand out, “Oh, where are my manners. I’m Sans, by the way.”

You stared at the hand for a moment, but deciding to not be rude as you were weak, you decided to go ahead and shake it. You yelped as a shock of electricity struck through your body, making whatever hair you had stand on edge. By this point, Sans was audibly laughing.

“The good ol’ joy buzzer!” he exclaimed, “Shit never gets old!”

Yeah… never gets old. Not the best timing right now.

You sighed as you tried to calm your nerves. The skeleton himself was soon calmer than you’d wish to be and stared at your shaken frame.

“Calm down. I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m not really into that sort of thing anyway.” he smiled.

You furrowed your brows, but believe it or not, you knew about the existence of other universes, so you knew this version of Sans wasn’t supposed to be a threat till much later. With this info in mind, you felt your nerves ease down.

“My brother, however,”

Oh god, that’s right.

“he’s a bit of a human fanatic. Hell, I’d say maniac.” he chuckled fakely.

Sans was nothing compared to Papyrus.

You turned your head towards the skeleton with a concerned expression on your face. He saw it and immediately put his hands up.

“Hey, hey. There’s nothing to be concerned about. Just because he’s a human maniac doesn’t mean he’s that scary.” he stated as he raised a hand to rub the back of his neck, “He just… doesn’t know his boundaries sometimes. He doesn’t really show his excitement, so people tend to see him as a ‘crêpe.’”

You showed a small expression of annoyance at the pun, as it wasn’t the best time to do so right now, but you decided to ignore the pun and focus on what he said. You were confused. You knew this Sans, so you would know about this universe’s respectful Papyrus. Papyrus was always depicted as loud and gruff, but was actually quite friendly once you got to know him. Some other people depicted him as very unmerciful and murderous, so to hear Sans say that he “doesn’t know his boundaries” triggered mixed signals in your head. Your red flags wanted to go off, but knowing how most depictions are, you wanted to see for yourself how he truly was.

Sans looked at the gate, and then back at you.

“Hang on, kid. I’ll help you get ‘pasta’ this.” he chuckled as he snapped his fingers.

In a flash, you both disappeared and reappeared on the other side. You shivered as you felt the static run through your body. The broad skeleton only chuckled at your expression.

“You’ll get used to it, kid.” he stated, “It’s nothing to be too ‘shocked’ over.”

These puns made you wanna punch him and laugh at them at the same time.

Regardless, Sans’s smile was soon gone, “You might wanna hide behind my station, kid. Usually when I’m gone this long, he goes to look for me.”

He had a point. The brothers, in most universes, were pretty close, so it would make sense that Papyrus would arrive soon if he went out to look for his brother. You quickly walked over and crouched down into the open cupboard. It wasn’t long till you heard the crunching of another monster, which was guaranteed to be him.

Sans acted like he was still looking for anything out of the ordinary as he turned to face his brother, “Hey, boss.”

“Sans, for the last time. You do not have to call me that.” the taller skeleton sighed in vexation.

The shorter skeleton gave his usual grin, “Sorry, bro.”

Your ears raised at the rich tone in his voice. Most people depict him with a voice similar to the classic Papyrus, only making it deeper and far rougher as to fit his intimidating appearance. You weren’t expecting something to be the equivalent of what chocolate ganache would sound like. It sent chills down your spine already, which began to strike your temptations to peak around from inside the cupboard.

Papyrus analyzed his surroundings before looking back at his brother, “Have you found anything anomalous?”

Sans shook his head, “Nah, bro. Have you?”

The taller skeleton sighed in disappointment, “Unfortunately no. I even contacted Dogamy and Dogaressa for any possible findings, but they reported to me with nothing. I truly believed that this would be the day to capture another human.”

Sans’s expression turned into one of empathy, “Sorry, bro. Maybe next time.”

“You can only say that so many times, Sans.” Papyrus mumbled.

He shrugged, “Maybe, but it’s gotta happen eventually, right? Six have fallen already.”

As the two began discussing the subject at hand, you finally decided to take the risk. You slowly began to shift and turn to peak around the corner. You got as low as you possibly could, knowing how tall some monsters can be. As Sans kept Papyrus occupied, you managed to peak one eye around the corner.

Seeing the sight of him sent more chills down your spine. His voice suited him, but you may have underestimated how well it did suit him. He was tall for one, easily over eight feet. However, your eyes kept drifting from one area to another upon his appearance. Aside from the height, he was hefty for a skeleton. You guessed “big boned” wasn’t just something the shorter skeletons went by, as it was clear that the “bones” that made up his arms were defined in a similar manner to muscles. Your eyes then drifted to his armor, especially those massive shoulder pads. They heaped over the bulky pauldrons and swooped upwards in a proud fashion. They were outlined in gold, which shimmered in what light was being produced from above. They were even accompanied by several more, which weren’t as detailed, giving the pads a sense of dominance.

Your eyes then drifted to his gauntlets, which were a deep, blood red. They were spiked, but in a manner that looked more like they were there for the purpose of being tools rather than just for looks. For what purpose? You didn’t really know the answer to that. You went further down and saw his claws, which, considering the distance between you and him, were impressive. If those are his actual claws, you wondered how he did anything with them.

You went down the torso and saw the many scars on his spine, which made you question why he wasn’t wearing anything for his midriff. Hell, the same could be said for his arms, as they didn’t have much protection either. From the front and back, maybe, but not from the sides. It didn’t stop you from noticing the skull on his belt, though. It seemed to show similar expressions with Papyrus himself, and it only led you to guess it was just some magic thing monsters had.

His pants appeared to be a type of latex, as it shined within the light. In spite of that, your eyes couldn’t stop staring at the boots. They were the same blood red like his gloves, but the top edges of them had a gold-on-black diamond pattern. They were outlined in gold just like the rest of his armor. Knee high and high heeled, he stood proudly in them. You would be able to see more of his appearance, but the scarf he wore hung all the way down past his butt.

You tried to stick out more as he wasn’t looking, but son of a gun if he hadn’t have moved like he did. Your head shot back behind the station, heart racing again. You hoped he hadn’t seen you, but your temptations were going wild again. You didn’t get to see his face. You got to see everything else except his face.

You decided to try the same tactic. By this point, he should’ve been busy with his brother. Yes, this was a dangerous environment, but if he was anything like the other depictions, he would be used to doing it so often. This meant that there was a chance of him not seeing you, as he’s so used to seeing everything in a certain order. You ducked your head down low again and peaked around the corner, silently gasping from what you saw.

You gravely underestimated how fitting his voice was. He was far more artistic compared to other portrayals, especially since he wore thick eyeliner. Said eyeliner looked like the original “cat eye” eyeliner used by Egyptians, which brought you home a sense of connection with the rest of his outfit. Seeing the eyeshadow made you realize that, unlike the others, this Papyrus actually wore makeup. His eyeshadow was a deep red, and it glittered in the light. From above, he sported definite eyebrows. They had to be drawn on, cause they were just too sharp to be natural. You then noticed his mouth as it moved. You knew skeletons had teeth on display, but it appeared that it wasn’t exactly the same kind of case with this monster. The “teeth” that were visible moved more like lips, and in some angles, you could’ve sworn you saw a “second” pair of teeth from behind.

As your eyes went back up, you froze. You were now caught by his eyes. They were black, but irises and pupils showed themselves from within the darkness. They glowed despite there already being light, but it was all beginning to be too much for your senses. They may have intimidated others, but you saw eyes full of passion and libido, and it was starting to make you weak.

You couldn’t help it.

He was fucking sexy.

You physically pulled yourself back as he moved to leave. Your heart was now racing, but it was no longer racing out of fear, but out of yearning. You heard the sounds of crunching from Sans, and you turned to see him towering over you.

“You’re safe now, kid.” he rasped, “He should be gone for a good while.. Why are you blushing?”

Oh fuck.

He soon made the connection in his head, “Kid, what the fuck?! How long have you been staring at him?!”

You nervously shrugged.

He only facepalmed, “Great. All that work for nothing.”

You apologized in your typical manner, but it was only responded with a sigh of disappointment.

“I hope you realize that just because he doesn’t seem to notice you doesn’t mean he actually hasn’t.” he grumbled.

You lowered your head in guilt. He distracted his brother for a reason, and you blew it. You wanted to mention to him why, but Sans already knew.

“I don’t think some of you humans have preferences when it comes to what’s attractive to you, don’tcha?” he asked.

You rocked your head from one side to another before shrugging. Some people did, but others were into weird shit. You weren’t exactly sure if being into a skeleton was the start of being on the freakier side of things.

Sans seemed to understand what was said, “I see. Guess you’re just someone who doesn’t want to be ‘bonely.’”

A chuckle managed to escape your throat. You were starting to feel more comfortable with him around, especially seeing how he distracted his brother just for you. Even though he might turn on you later, a small victory is still a victory.

“The underground’s dangerous, kiddo,” he explained, “but as long as you managed to stay away from my brother and the dogs, you should be fine.”

You nodded as you got up from being in such a small space. You stretched and thanked Sans as you went about on your way. You knew how dangerous the underground was, so it was only a matter of time till you suffer your first murder here. Sans only watched as you went on your way.

“God, I hope Paps doesn’t find them.” he muttered. __________________________________________________

Oh hey, I managed to write another X Reader. This time it’s with a skeleton.

Word count: 2,791.

Breathe In Breathe Out

Delayed Drowningc • Chemical Pneumonia • Oxygen Mask

He’s slept roughly four hours in the last two days. It occurs to him that today is Saturday and he’s got the weekend to catch up on that sleep. The thought washes over him like a calming wave and then a tight knot of shame forms in the back of his mind, a nasty voice sneering that he shouldn’t be so happy. His son is going to be gone the whole weekend. Jack’s going to enjoy being away from him. 

The apartment is going to be empty. 

Trudging through the living room, leaving the lights off, he manages to catch his shin on the stupid coffee table, knocking the remote onto the floor. “Fuck,” he curses, bending over to grab at his throbbing shin. His other hand rubs over the carpet, failing to find the remote where he’d managed to lose it onto the floor. With a roll of his eyes, he abandons the mission. 

Finding that damn thing can wait to tell he’s had some sleep. 

Standing, his knees give audible protest and he grunts at the pain spiking up his back. He’s old. Shaking his head, he rubs at his lower back, heading back to his room. He just needs to get some sleep. 

Nose diving into the duvet, he doesn’t so much as kick his shoes off. Getting to sleep is easy, he’s out the second he curls into his side. He’ll have to remember to thank Jessica for turning on the heat. The dropping September temperature hadn’t been on his mind when he’d stumbled out the door four days previously. 

But he comes home to a toasty apartment, a nice contrast to the fall chill in the air just outside his bedroom’s window. 

Groggily, stomach aching with a strange vengeance, he wakes some hour or so later. Time is a concept his fuzzy mind can’t grasp. With hands that feel twice their size and a body that feels too heavy to be his own, he pushes himself upright. Fumbling, he tears off his clothes. Simply letting his suit jacket and pants land in a heap on the floor. The buttons make his head throb but it’s muscle memory to work them apart. By the time the final one snaps out of place, he lands back on the bed. Too tired to hold himself upright but at least his clothes aren’t trapping him in anymore.

It feels like he’s just closed his eyes when he wakes with a startle, his entire body trembling. 

He rolls over onto his back, sweating lightly. He’s still bone-tired and when he turns his head to see the alarm clock on the nightstand he finds he can’t really see the numbers. Somewhere, on the floor, maybe, his phone vibrates where it’d fallen. His chest is tight, painfully so— his father had died of a heart attack not much older than he is now.

Is this how he’ll go?

Not with a bang?

He’d always expected to find himself looking down the barrel of a gun, as he had some many times before, and been unable to walk away. To crumble where he stood. Leaving his son and ex-sister-in-law to bury him in a closed casket. Forcing his team to carry him through the graveyard one last time. 

But…

He’d always hoped someone would be there. So his last thought would be of his family and not… not this painful coil of fear. 

Against his will, a tear falls down his face. He feels miserable. The back of his throat feels tight with nausea but he’s not sure he can stand. He wants so desperately for someone to come. He doesn’t care if it’s Dave with his frustrating muttered Italian or even JJ, who he knows would wrap the blanket at the end of his bed around his shoulders.

He misses them. Shivering and crying softly in his confusion, he wants so desperately for comfort. Eyes sliding shut against his will, the darkness and his anxiety overtaking him, he knows something is so desperately wrong but… he doesn’t know what.

Monday comes around without a hitch for the others.

In fact, for once, Emily Prentiss is ahead of schedule. She’s set to arrive at the office before JJ, not to toot her own horn or anything. When the elevator comes to a stop on the floor, she frowns. She’s used to the soft wafting smell of coffee greeting her and the lights up and down the hall being turned on. 

But it’s seven in the morning and she supposes maybe Hotch isn’t here yet. He always makes coffee in the morning. By the time she normally gets there, he’s got all three coffee pots going and the bullpen slowly coming to life under his nurturing hand. The man’s got the green thumb equivalent of whatever paperwork and federal agents are to plants.

This morning, it seems he’s slacking in his watering of the plants. 

JJ comes in ten minutes later, a bagel in one hand and a newspaper in the other. She’s scowling at the later, too busy to observe the too-quiet office and lack of Hotch going on. She does manage to stop her brisk walk the second time Emily calls out for her. “Yeah?” she shakes her head, she hasn’t had any coffee yet. “Emily,” she says shocked. “You’re here early.”

Emily nods her head, “I am.” Pointing up to Hotch’s dark office she deduces, “but Hotch isn’t.”

JJ glances up at the office and tries to stifle the immediate worry that consumes her. “Uh,” she shakes it away. “Jack gives Hotch some trouble on Monday mornings,” she rationalizes. Hotch had said something once about it but she’s just hoping, clinging to that idea. “Besides,” she adds, recalling this detail. “Sometimes they stop for a muffin or donuts. That’s probably just taking some time this morning.” 

Right, both women think as they go their separate ways, that has to be it. 

For esteemed members of the A team of the BAU, Reid and Morgan don’t notice Hotch’s absence until around lunchtime. Morgan realizes Hotch hasn’t been down to the bullpen for his second and third cup of coffee. Which he customary drinks leaning against one of their desks and arguing with Reid about whatever niche subject he’s devoted his time to this week. Morgan didn’t think that was something his day needed until…  

“I forgot Hotch isn’t here to make any more coffee,” Reid complains. He’s standing in front of Emily’s desk, his mug in his hands. She gives him only a second of her time, looking him up and down and shaking her head. He’ll grumble all day about how she and Morgan treat him like a baby and then he’ll stand here and pout because Hotch didn’t make coffee. 

Hotch has no personal obligation to make the coffee. They’re all adults who can make coffee. 

Reid shuffles his weight between his left and right foot. “Do you think something’s wrong?”

Yeah, she feels like snapping, the thought has occurred to her. First of all, Dave can preach all day about how it’s good Hotch has taken the day off, but in the years she’s known Aaron Hotchner he’s done that once. Once. And even then he’d left them an objective— a damn warning! 

“He’s fine, kid,” Morgan speaks up but he doesn’t look up from his file. A dead give away. He’d joked when he’d first noticed Hotch’s lights off but the light of his tone never met his eyes. It doesn’t help that he hasn’t said much of anything to any of them. Just sat and did his paperwork.

Derek Morgan never does paperwork.

Reid nods, glancing at Emily, but she’s lowered her head to her own paperwork. Okay, he thinks understands. With a nod, he goes back to the break room and makes his own coffee. Hotch will be back tomorrow, he convinces himself. It’ll all be fine… tomorrow. Hotch will make them coffee. Hotch will be here...

Tuesday comes with a southern downpour. The temperature drops dramatically and that chill follows it’s way into the building. 

“He’s not here,” Reid greets Emily. 

She’s running her fingers through her wet hair, glad that no one’s around to hear her cursing up a storm worse than the one blowing outside--- and by anyone, she means Hotch and his disappointed but not surprised frown. “What do you mean,” she grumbles, resigning herself to the fact that she wasted an hour in front of the mirror this morning getting her hair straight. 

Reid watches her with a mix of awe and curiosity but answers none-the-less. “Hotch,” he says, motioning behind them to the dark office. 

Emily’s fingers are caught in her hair, her arms twisting her damp hair back into a bun. “What,” she asks, having heard him but too surprised to say anything else. With the ease that comes from muscle memory, she snaps the hair tie around her messy excuse of a bun and discards her belongings on the floor. Headed for Hotch’s office.

Reid already knows what she’s going to find. 

He’d come bearing the book he’d been telling Hotch about last week. The plan was to surprise Hotch with the hand translated version. Reid had read both the version in its original Russian and the translated English version. After finding it less than adequate, he’d translated it himself. Today, he was going to give it to Hotch.

Only Reid had thrown his boss’s office door open and taken the cold chill of the empty room like a punch to the gut. Anxiety bubbling its ugly head up at the familiar, usually comforting, scent of Hotch’s cologne but his general absence being… terrifying. 

Seeing Emily react to the same anomaly, he’s glad this isn’t just some demonstration of his tendency to establish unhealthy attachments (it still kind of is but that’s not the point). The twist to her lips makes his heart rise to his throat and he shakily points to Hotch’s desk and the absence of any proof that Hotch might simply be elsewhere in the building. 

“What are we doing, my loves?”

Garcia’s on her own mission. 

It’s Tuesday, bright and early, and Hotch promised to revise and look into her eco-friendly idea about the jet and the paperwork. She’d given him an entire week to review it--- he could do it in a day but she knows he’s busy and stressed and she hates the idea of adding unnecessarily to that. 

She’s been looking forward to today since last week. It seems as if she never really gets to hang out with her boss anymore and the thought has made her so sad. Contrary to what he might convince himself, her love for that grumpy man knows no bounds. Just because he’s not as darkly striking as Emily or whimsical like Dave doesn’t mean he doesn’t bring his own things to the table. She’s really excited to hear him grumble about Strauss in that humorous, sarcasm so dry it cracks way only he manages.

Seeing his empty office upsets her beyond words. He’s the dependable person she knows. He wouldn’t just… “He promised,” she says, not even attempting to hide the fear. “Hotch doesn’t break promises.”

Yeah, that’s what they were afraid of.

Hotch could never see the similarities within himself reflecting into his son. Even now, as they stare so blankly back at him, he doesn’t recognize it. That eerie calm— Haley had always said he was like still water. A danger you never know is there until it’s too late. He could never wrap his mind around figuring out if that was a compliment or not. 

“I’ll come back after school,” Jack promises, the shaky undertone of his soft voice making Hotch’s chest tight. He’s afraid. Reasonably so. The poor kid goes away for a weekend with his cousins. He sets up a campfire with his grandparents. Listens to Aunt Jessica tell him about how his parents fell in love--- leaving out the bits about Aaron’s father and the way the entire town hated the idea of sweet little Haley Brookes getting with that troublemaker Aaron Hotchner.

He has so much fun and comes home to this...

Thinking about his father so young and his mother… for a moment he felt no different than the other kids. 

But he’s always been too much like his father for that.

Jack thinks the world will fall apart if he’s not there to catch it. Just as it had this weekend.

Jessica prays she can teach Jack the lesson Haley could never convince Aaron of, he doesn’t have to save the world. “Come on, baby.” Jessica pats Jack’s shoulder, it’s breaking her heart to have to tear father and son apart. “We’ll be here around three, Aaron,” she promises. 

Her words are lost to him. He’s watching them behind heavily lidded eyes. A nurse had said something about him not sleeping but Jessica had discouraged the idea of sedation. Aaron’s not sleeping for a reason and whatever that reason is, whatever he’s afraid of seeing, is worse than what’s going to happen if he keeps himself awake. They’d rejected her idea of intravenously giving him the medication he’d been prescribed to take as needed for his anxiety— so they have this unhappy medium. 

Where Aaron doesn’t sleep but he’s not losing it either. 

She presses a kiss to his sweaty forehead, “get some sleep, Aaron.” Pushing back some of his unruly hair from his face she can better see the sleepy eyes looking back at her. “I love you.”

Jack squirms uncomfortably. They’re pushing it for school. Another habit picked up of his fathers: the obsessive need to be places earlier than the required time. Jessica can forgive him easily for this but the teachers and the school have already expressed their understanding if Jack is late a few days. 

Not that Jack can extend himself that same courtesy— yet, another habit of his father’s.

She squeezes Aaron’s hand one final time in goodbye and takes Jack’s, leading him from the room. There’s no benefit in sending him to school right now. He’s not paying attention in class, anxious to get back here and make sure Aaron hasn’t died without someone here to constantly remind him what he’s fighting for.

They share a similar fear that in that room by himself Aaron will allow the world to consume him and he’ll just stop fighting. He’ll just die and leave them both. And Jessica had hated him once upon a time but he’s really the only family she has too. She loves Jack to pieces but she has no desire to raise her sister and brother’s son. 

She has no desire to bury Aaron. Not today, not tomorrow--- she’s done burying family. 

All she can hope is that Aaron understands that.

He watches them leave. Jack glances back only once, today he doesn’t silently sob as they make their exit. Hotch’s heart thanks the small boy for that, he can’t handle his son’s tears. It hurts so much more to know that he’s the reason his little boy is so sad. That fear of losing Hotch hasn’t gone away in the years since his mother’s death. It won’t ever really go away. 

Tuesday passes as slowly as Monday. 

He doesn’t eat the breakfast they bring him. Just as he hadn’t eaten the dinner or the lunch they brought him yesterday. While most of the symptoms have died down, like the headache and vertigo, but the trouble breathing and nausea have not abated. Giving him a nasty aversion to the food that already looks unappealing.

He can’t remember much of what happened. After falling asleep to the sound of his phone frantically buzzing he hadn’t woken back up for hours. He has a distant memory of a man in grey—a firefighter— pulling him upright. His legs and body limp and the whole world shifting as he’s lifted and carried out of his bedroom. 

He’d been one of the more severe cases. Exhausted from working for so long, he hadn’t so much as left the building for hours. Meaning while the rest of the building occupants went on about their days-- leaving for church or groceries or dinner plans-- he’d been left to succumb to the symptoms of carbon monoxide alone. 

A boiler in the basement had some malfunction, one of the nurses had told him. Hotch didn’t really care how it happened or why, he just knew he was glad Jack was nowhere near any of this. Even if Jack being home meant things not escalating to this point. Hotch can take the tight feeling in his chest and the difficulty breathing over anything if it means keeping Jack safe… Jack’s all he has.

At least, Jack is all he thinks he has.

The nurse’s face spreads into the softest, happiest smile David Rossi thinks he’s seen in days. The woman, hardly twenty-five, beams and clasps her hands together in her excitement. “You’re here for Aaron?” She motions for them to follow her. “He’s a sweetheart,” she tells them. He really is. Aside from giving her a hard time about his pain level and eating, he’s been her best patient. Never once rude or anything but the picture of calm. 

Well, he’s almost always the picture of calm…

“He’s had a bad day,” she explains simply, stopping in the doorway. She’d come in for what she was quickly learning to be her daily ritual of fighting with the man to eat something and found him sobbing. From there, the nerves he couldn’t control, lack of sleep, and anxiety going unchecked had bubbled into an anxiety attack. The end result—

Dave clears his throat, “is he okay?”

The nurse nods her head, “I stayed with him for a while. He’s just a little groggy. The doctor ordered some sedatives.” He hadn’t lasted long under their heavy influence and she’d checked in on him as many times as she could but he still wasn’t up yet. 

Maybe with his friends here though…

“Thank you,” JJ says, reaching out and squeezing the other woman’s hand. There’s a sad smile on her lips as she says, “we can’t thank you enough for taking care of him.” JJ has to look away before the tears pooling in her eyes spill over. “He’s a very stubborn man but--but we love him dearly.”

The nurse nods her head, sympathetic tears threatening to fall. “He talked about you guys,” so much so she’s fairly certain she knows each of them far more than she should. JJ is the soft blonde, stronger than she knows and still gentle. There’s Dave whose hardened scowl had thrown her off but now she sees the curious brow Aaron had told her about. The stick and bones genius Doctor Reid hadn’t been a hard one to figure out, just like the bright and dazzlingly beautiful Penelope Garcia. Leaving only Emily Prentiss, dark and serious. 

His family. 

“But really,” she says, excusing herself with one last glance at her friend in the room. “He’ll be very pleased you’re here. He never said it but he missed you.” 

Yeah, JJ smiles, that sounds about right.

They enter the room with a soft knock, as to not disturb him if he is sleeping. 

“Good morning, sunshine.” 

It takes hours. By the time that Aaron wakes up, Dave has already called and got the rest of them today and tomorrow off. Derek’s made two trips out for food-- lunch and then the snack that Reid was getting antsy about. Reid’s consumed three Poptarts and if not for Hotch’s eyes cracking open he’d be making for a fourth. However, Reid knows Hotch’s mood will flip like a switch and the last thing he needs is Hotch’s frustration being taken out on him. 

“Ach,” Dave swats at Hotch’s hand. His fingers failing to form a strong enough grasp around the flimsy plastic fo the mask to pull it away from his face. However, the idea is in his head and Dave doesn’t want him to just find that strength. “Something tells me that’s not there for decorations,” Dave says, pulling Hotch’s hand down to his chest. 

Hotch grumbles something, pale lips cashing in words that his lungs can’t check-out. Whatever is lost to his rasps or drowning by the mask is made up for by the eye-roll of angst he sends Dave. Which also loses it’s flavor when he starts hacking up a lung.

“Easy--”

Dave’s soft soothes go unheard and Morgan steps in, pulling Hotch up by his shoulders. There’s a split second where Hotch gags, the sudden movement causing intense nausea, but nothing comes up and he’s left coughing painfully into Morgan’s side. Needing the other man to keep him upright.

“You good,” Morgan asks. He’d picked up a soothing rub of Hotch’s back, moving his large palm in circles until the coughing died down. Until now, as Hotch just leans limply into his side. 

Hotch nods, “thanks.”

Morgan doesn’t go far, he stays close enough to help Hotch lay back down. His dark brows furrowed as his eyes move over Hotch’s strained face. He’s in obvious discomfort and it bothers Morgan to see him like this. “How are you feeling,” Morgan pushes, fidgeting with the blankets bunched up around Hotch’s waist. “You cold?”

Hotch turns his head into the pillows, nodding.

Morgan pulls the blankets up and fixes the mask half pushed off Hotch’s face. He smiles when Hotch just scowls but submits to the movement. Morgan bites back whatever comment he might make about Hotch being particularly grumpy today. It’s hard to believe that you could miss something as simple as someone’s grumpy mumbling but at the thought of losing Hotch… 

“You good,” Morgan asks, one of his hands on Hotch’s shoulder. “You need anything?”

Hotch’s glazed over eyes move over Morgan as if he’s uncertain if he’s really there. Hotch is still fairly under the influence of the sedative working its way through his system. So, his lazy, uncoordinated movement to dislodge the oxygen mask over his face is futile. “Itches,” he slurs, under his breath. 

It’s easier than it should be for Dave to pin Hotch’s hands to his chest once again, just pushing his wrist down. Hotch grunts a little, giving only a little resistance to hold. “Aaron,” Dave chides. “The carbon monoxide in your blood is still elevated so you have to leave the mask alone.” 

The doctor had told them that when Aaron was emitted he’d stopped breathing on his own. The percentage of carbon monoxide in his blood a 48%— one of the highest out of the patients brought in from the incident at the apartment complex. High enough to kill him, as it should have. As it still could.

They’d been assured, upon arrival, that he’s doing exceptionally well considering. But it will take time for his blood to return to normal as it will take time for him to recover. Which he will, recovery that is. He has to. 

He always does.

Superhero part three

Summary: I swear this is the last time I ask for something, but could you make one where Richie protects Freddy from bullies? Please?

A/N: I hope you enjoy anon! Let me know what you think. 

Warnings: this is about bullying so please don’t read if that triggers you! 

At first, the rumors aren’t so bad. Freddy is aware of them, it’s hard not to take them in when his classmates don’t bother waiting to start gossiping until he’s out of ear shot, but he can deal with that.

He convinces himself that the whispers behind his back are about more than his physical disabilities. That they reference how cool his shirt looked or something, but Freddy knows that’s not the case. Everybody who sees him limp but can only focus on his disability, it’s like that’s the only part of him that matters. His mom shared that sentiment along with the rest of the world, but prior to attending school -he wasn’t allowed to at first, his mom said he was too fragile and that he may trip and injure his leg further-, Freddy held out hope the rest of the world would indicate his mother wrong.

It didn’t, but Freddy was still happy to be out of the house, so he refused to tell anyone near him about the whispers that follows him like a bad scent. It’ll go away some day, he told himself as he laid in bed, equal parts eager to go to school and learn, and disheartened about the tattles he’ll have to endure.

He was proven wrong again. Instead of evolving past the childish glee he invoked, the bullies became braver, more outspoken about how much they enjoyed to see Freddy suffer. The careless whispers were barely there anymore, but they shuffled to the background as violent offences now became Freddy’s primary concern.

On the regular, his crutches would get kicked down from under him, so that Freddy, with no other way to balance himself, stumbles to the floor. Sometimes, that was enough torment for the day, and they would walk away satisfied, other times, the would proceed to punch him again, or wait until he was almost scrambled back up before again sending him flying to the ground.

Freddy had a lot more issues ignoring that sort of bullying. He never tells anyone still, he’s not a little kid that needs his dad to come rescue him, and either way, the only thing he would gain from that is more attraction from his bullies.

He has a new routine now, one where he hides during school breaks and avoids being the laughing stock as much as he can.

His dad always drops him off at school at precisely 8 am, and comes to pick him straight after school. Freddy can’t walk all the way home, nor can he bike, not with the state of his leg, and riding a buss without a guaranteed sitting spot isn’t a stable option either. That’s all fine by Freddy, taking the buss would mean more time for his bullies to go after him.

As soon as he gets out of the car, he waits until his dad has turned a corner, and then walks around to the back entrance. By the entrance, there is a second door that leads to a supply closet no one barely uses. The school has pretty much abandoned it, and that’s why it’s the prefer place for Freddy to spend his breaks in.

Don’t get him, he does try to socialize, in the five minutes before class starts, but everyone finds him both piteous, and a huge nerd -Freddy can’t help that he’s really into superhero’s-, so everyone ignores him.

It’s not the glamours life he’d imagined himself living, but it’s better than being couped up inside of the house all day.

After the final bell of the day rings, he’ll rush to get out before anyone can stop him, and jumps in the car which Eddie is driving. Eddie has never witnessed any bullying, but he’s never been late either. Not until today.

Under normal circumstances, his dad would be awaiting him in the car at the parking lot, standing ready for when school ends. Today, Eddie’s black SUV is nowhere to be seen. Freddy’s eyes float across the parking lot three times, hoping every time that he just somehow missed him, but he ends up empty handed.

‘Shit’, he curses, knowing full well that that is not going to have a happy ending for him. He tries to back out and walk into school quickly, but before he can, his arm is gripped tightly, while another set of hands rips his crutch from him. Freddy flails you grab it again, needing it o balance himself, but it’s useless, he watches in helplessly and in shame as his crutch goes flying over the side walk.

There are other people outside too, but they don’t pay attention. Or maybe they do, but they don’t have the gal to speak up.

Trent, his number one bully and the only one offering him ‘support’ right now, begins to sway them dangerously.

‘Stop’, Freddy protests, but his pleas are ignored. Trent and his posse laugh at him, and push him to the ground.

Freddy angles himself so that he falls onto the grass instead of the concrete, to safe himself from bruises, but now he has green stains on his pants that he knows his dad will question. It’s the lesser of two evils.

‘Oops- sorry about that Fred, I though you would be able to fly, you know with that superpower you so love’

Freddy understands he’s being bated, but physically, he’s not match to Trent or his other bullies - not only because of his leg, but also because they are two years older than him and taller-, so he can only defend himself with words.

‘My favorite superpower is Invisibility, but I’m guessing yours is stupidity?’

Trent’s smirk falters, and he punishes the comment by pretending to stomp on Freddy’s leg. He stops last minute, but Freddy flinches in fear regardless.

‘Oh’, Trent coos, fist bumping his friend as they smirk. ‘What’s wrong little Freddy’, he starts talking in a baby voice, ‘can’t you get up?’

‘Your voices really suck,’ a voice coming from the opposite side reproaches. It only takes a second for Freddy to identify who the voice belongs too, it being so distinct he doesn’t need to conform it with his eyes. It’s Richie, who for some reason is picking him up instead of his dad.

That’s not too bad, Freddy resigns. He figures Richie is going to chase them off but will let the issue rest, and maybe with some tinkering Freddy can avoid Richie telling his dad about it all together.

Trent, unbothered by the unexpected witness to his behavior, snorts and flips Richie the bird.

‘Why don’t you move along old man? There’s nothing to see here.’

Freddy scrambles to get back up, seizing his opportunity to escape his doom, but one of Trent’s friends forces him back down. Freddy can’t bring anything against the gravity force, and lands on his back again. ‘Oof’, he breathes, winded.  

Richie’s eyes flash with something Freddy has never seen before. Richie is the equivalent of a man child; goofy and energetic – sometimes-, and friendly to every person he meets. The glint of pure anger that is now flickering in his eyes is something Freddy would have never associated with him ever before. He looks like a different man.

‘Get the fuck away from him.’  

Trent wants to laugh again, the corners of his mouth already quirking up in a sneer, but then his demeaner changes and he stops. ‘Wait, are you Trashmouth fucking Tozier?’

‘I’ll say it one more time, step away from him.’ Richie’s voice is calm, serious, cool and collected, and Freddy would be a little bit frightened if that was directed at him.

‘Hey man we were just having some fun. No need for such a big fuss.’

‘Yeah I’m sure it’s really funny for you jerks. You know what I find funny? Calling all your parents and letting them know what their kids have been up too lately. You know what else I find hilarious? Getting some assholes expelled after I threaten the principal with bad publicity. Do you find that funny?’

He could technically do that, Freddy reasons. Richie has a lot more influence now after his breakdown and miraculous comeback, such as appearing on SNL and doing a lot of interviews. He could, but Freddy is sure he would never go that far.

‘Fine, whatever. This nerd isn’t even worth it.’

Trent and his friends walk off fast, their dignity only intact because no one else was their to see them get on their asses by a forty year old man. It could be Freddy’s imagination, but he’s pretty sure he saw Trent blush in shame.

Freddy reaches for his crutch, and Richie rushes to bring it over and help him get into a standing position. 

‘Little shits’, he mutters under his breath. 

‘Ow, dude. You shouldn’t have done that, now I’m really in for it next week,’ Freddy complains as he watches the group march away. Richie pulls him in for a sideways hug, and Freddy forgets what he was so apprehensive about. During the hug, he’s just happy Richie was there for him, again.

‘They can try’, Richie accepts, but the way he protectively glares when Trent glances back proves he’s not going to let that slide.

‘Are you gonna tell my dad about this?’

‘I have to Freds, he’s your dad.’ Richie tells him honestly, and begins leading the two of them to his car.  He drove his red sports car, notable to everyone. ‘But’, Richie says amicable, ‘I’ll compromise. What do you say to a good old fashioned round of bragging. I’ll drive you to school on Monday?’

Freddy grins elated. He couldn’t be happier with the pick his dad chose.

hey val! do u have any hcs about zetsu and his relationships/thoughts on the other akatsuki members?

yes 👉👈 *500 words of jargon*

pain - white zetsu likes him, he’s a patient leader which is big to him because so many of the akatsuki members (including the one he shares a body with) get mad at him for dawdling. black zetsu think’s peins god thing is cute bcz he knows ‘real gods’, but otherwise neutral. sometimes wonders if the paths are pickle equivalent.

konan - they kinda have beef ngl... konan’s only in the akatsuki because pein is there and she does Not like to listen to orders from ‘madara’. he’s really conflicted: it seriously inconveniences black zetsu but white zetsu thinks it’s funny because one person with no special kekkai genkai or anything is threatening to tip the cohesiveness of akatsuki just with the Power Of Friendship because she’s close to nagato. but also sometimes when they’re all bored they’ll have lengthy gardening discussions bcz roses = plants, shared hobby??

deidara - black zetsu’s w/ sasori on the expecting deidara to die. also he’s the oldest member of the akatsuki and deidara’s the youngest and he gets a ‘the kids are into arson these days’ vibe. i think white zetsu likes him more because him and deidara were pretty friendly with each other during the 4th shinobi war arc. white zetsu will stick up for deidaras art sometimes if there’s ever competition between the artists. pretty sure deidara thinks white zetsu is a dweeb though because of similarity to tobi 

sasori - this was rlly hard 4 no reason omg.. he probably considers sasori one of the better members, because he contributes so much to the organization w/ his spy network and stuff. i feel like him and black zetsu could potentially nerd out together abt poisons and relate to being stuck with guys that are way chattier than is preferred. work friends, most likely

itachi - itachi’s important to zetsu because of his role in the plot and stuff but he doesn’t think too much about itachi outside of akatsuki business, plus they don’t trust each other at all. zetsu maintains his distance because he knows about all the op sharingan moves and he doesn’t want to die, itachi’s always on edge because he’s pretty sure zetsu is reporting his actions to madara. spyception = double agent spy (itachi) spying on other double agent spy (zetsu) who is spying on the first double agent. 

kisame - a little bit of jealousy tbh. they’re both offputting and inhuman appearance-wise but kisame is more likeable and white zetsu’s not sure what he’s missing. kisame’s also one of the first few members so they’ll chat for old times sake. ‘it’s a philosophy: the weak are meat the strong eat’ ‘most things can be meat... as long as they have animal-like flesh. maybe not me, but you...’ ‘actually zetsu i forgot i have stamina training with itachi today goodbye sorry.’

kakuzu - old loner solidarity... i hc that black zetsu when chatting, will reference  bygone events because he thinks it makes him look sophisticated (no lol). only kakuzu really gets them, so zetsu and him can have actual casual conversations where they both understand each other. but also kakuzu’s not usually in a talking mood and neither is black zetsu so even if the two rlly wanted to be friends i don’t think they are that close. but they’ll go for drinks and cards and consuming hearts every so and so.

hidan - killing murder? good. wasting food? :// white zetsu gets kind of disturbed with how hidan enjoys pain because he’s tried dying too, and it wasn’t fun. black zetsu thinks hidan is supremely entertaining even if he doesn’t help any plans. he doesn’t believe a word hidan says either he just thinks its fun to check in on the resident fucked up guy every once in a while and see what’s cooking. ‘society isnt ready to hear this but evisceration is good. healthy, even’. cue flytrap cackling.

tobito - while black zetsu doesn’t really care about him, white zetsu and tobi are cool. they’ve lived in the cave together for a decade and they’re pretty much like siblings who hate each other now. like obito yelled at shiro daily in the cave era and they know they can’t trust each other but tobi’s still gonna ask zetsu for a snack from the store when goes out and zetsu’s still gonna get it for him, and white zetsu spoke up for tobi on joining akatsuki .. just frenemy things!

jaliceweek20 day 1: human/vampire

Title: Against A Wall (Part 1)

Prompt 1: Human/Vampire

Word Count: 3,851

Note: I’m going into hospital tomorrow, and I’ve run out of time to get this finished (so, so close but I need sleep). So I cut it in half in the most logical place. 

As long as the JaliceWeek Mods don’t have an issue, I’ll finish off Part 2 and upload the whole fic to the AO3 collection around Tuesday when I’m feeling human and have a decent Wifi connection.

Fifteen.

He crouches behind Dewey’s Bar, spitting blood onto the pavement, and trying to pretend that whatever is seeping into his jeans is just water, and not runoff from the reeking dumpster beside him.

It’s Tuesday night, and Tuesdays are always the worst. Tuesdays are his mom’s night shifts at the VA hospital. Tuesdays are pay-day. Tuesdays are the only day his father doesn’t pull his punches.

His left cheek and eye are swollen and split, like overripe fruit. He can’t see real well, and the taste of aluminium foil in the back of his mouth makes him suspect another fracture around his eye.  

But was it really a Tuesday night if cerebral fluid wasn’t leaking into his mouth?

He feels bad that his mother is going to walk in at five the next morning, exhausted, to find… well, to find Hettie and Flo asleep in Ava’s bed, as Ava studies and worries. To find Jasper’s bed empty, and Lydia’s too. To find the study door locked, no matter how long she knocks.

In fact, the only thing that Louise Whitlock won’t find when she gets home from work is the god-damned strength of will to leave her fucking husband.

Last time he said that to her face, she started to cry, and that made things worse.

It’s still early, which sucks. There are hours to go until it is safe to move, to drag himself to school, to shower in the locker rooms and get some food out of the vending machine and savour the fact that another Tuesday is behind him. Sheldon isn’t big enough for the other students and the teachers not to notice the bruises on his face, but it is small enough that everyone knows Jeremiah Whitlock, and no one is going to say anything to get him in trouble.  

He could go find Lydia, hide in the tree-house, tell someone who wasn’t family or a local. But he always ends up behind Dewey’s. When he was a kid, it hadn’t just been a bar; it had been been Dewey’s Bar and Grill, and his grandfather used to take him there for fried chicken and ice cream. Dewey had been his Grandpa Jed’s best friend, but even in those halcyon days it hadn’t exactly been family-friendly.

It had become a dive bar sometime around the time Jasper finished middle-school, but it didn’t matter - by then, Dewey and Grandpa were dead, and he was too busy trying to protect himself and his sisters to eat ice cream.

He spits blood again, and rests back against the brickwork. Nothing for it; Tuesdays were always hell.

—

He tries to sleep, amongst the noise of passersby, and remain unnoticed - Jasper’s learnt the hard way that his uncles still frequent Dewey’s, and they will march him straight back home for round two, no matter what he says. Even when he came up with the strength to tell them, about Lydia and Jerry and Tuesday nights, his uncles just tell him to shut up, man up, and maybe Jerry wouldn’t have to whoop his ass.

He thinks of Lydia and hopes she’s somewhere warm and clean tonight. Lydia’s smart enough to stay away on Tuesday nights. Home is never Lydia’s first port of call any night of the week, but never, ever on Tuesdays.

He remembers the last Tuesday night she was home, two summers ago, when Lydia stormed upstairs, a twelve-year-old hurricane with fire in her eyes, and called their father a coward for beating the shit out of Jasper.

Jeremiah Whitlock hadn’t liked being called a coward. Not at all.

Now she is transient, a ghost sister who vanishes at day break; one who bunks down on couches and in treehouses before coming back to her own bed. Their mom and Ava worry about where Lydia gets her money, cigar-sized rolls of dollar bills that she keeps in a tampon box, but he knows.

He knows that his sharp and pointy little sister never let anything stop her, least of all hard work, and that a lot of people in town know that Jerry Whitlock has a lot of anger and a lot of disappointment that he tries to drown in cheap beer and cheaper whiskey. It just makes him angrier. If the only thing they can do is give Lydia Whitlock some work, well, that kid’ll cut the grass, paint the garage, and walk the dog for a few bucks and a drink from a spigot.

It’s easy to say that Lydia is the best of them, making it clear that she doesn’t need their shitty father or their tired mother, but they are all strong in different ways. Ava, who smiles and simpers at their father, waiting for that day when she can buckle Hettie and Flo into her car and take them with her to college in Houston with a middle finger raised in the air. Flo stays quiet, stays alert, darting and hiding when the moment comes, but whose slight of hand belongs to a survivalist magician. And sweet little Hettie, who never lived on the ranch and knew their parents when they were happy, is sunshine and laughter and innocence. The one that reminds them why they stick together.

He’s the boy, so his role is obvious and unquestioned: he takes the punches and slaps and kicks that were meant for their mom, for Lydia, for Flo. He mutters things under his breath so that Jerry doesn’t hear what his sisters are saying, forgets that Hettie is sniffling or that Lydia hasn’t been home in ten days or that their mother has burnt dinner.

He knows his place.

—-

If you asked anyone with the surname ‘Whitlock’, they’d tell you that the family was cursed.

Had been since the Civil War; the youngest son had run off and joined up. Tried to desert two months in, crying for his momma, and ran afoul of someone - or something. He was dead a month later, but no one was exactly sure if he’d been executed for desertion, or if he’d just got in the way of a Yankee bullet. Either way, his last letter was rambling and terrified of something he never named, and his cowardice was rewarded with his bloodline’s constant suffering.

Within the Whitlock family lore, the curse was held accountable for numerous failings - from great-great grandmother Edith running off with one of the Wilkerson boys, to little Brian dropping dead as a doornail one summer day after seven years of perfect health. It was the Whitlock Curse to blame the day the bank took the ranch away from Jasper’s own father.      

It was the curse that had four and a half strapping brothers (Uncle Wyatt only counted as half since he went to the war in the Middle East and got himself blown up before he was even old enough to drink, and left behind a high school sweetheart with a bouncing baby girl they all called ‘Puddin’) father fifteen girls, and only one lousy boy.

Make no mistake about it, Jasper was a lousy heir to the Whitlock name. All three of his uncles reminded him of this every holiday season. Whitlock men were supposed to live and breathe the ranch, were supposed to be football players and champions. They were meant to knock up the head cheerleader and serve eight years in the army, like their brothers, fathers, uncles, and grandfathers before them.

Not snivelling little momma’s boys, who cried themselves to sleep when Sirius Black died, and could charm the birds from the trees. Not boys who helped their sisters catch rabbits, and keep them as secret pets, or name the house cat Socrates. Not boys who sat up all night when their horse had colic, and sit in the stable with her, begging and praying for her to be okay.

He tried, goddamnit. So hard. He was the best shot in the family (something that Uncle Bo had nearly hit him over, that one Thanksgiving. But everyone knew that Bo had the worst temper in the family.) Before things went to shit, he’d been a good student. He’d been able to convince the animals on the ranch to do anything. He was popular, without having any particular friends or putting much effort into it. He took care of his sisters.

But none of it was ever good enough.

Nothing ever was.

—

It’s Roy Lester that chases him off, before six the next morning. Roy runs the grocer next to Dewey’s, and went to school with his father and uncles - still had beers with them ever so often. The way he threatened Jasper and chased him off home whenever he caught him in the alley made Jasper think that they talked about him, and none of it flattering.

So he has to slink home because he stinks and he’s starving. The security at school won’t let anyone in before seven; he’s tried before; it’s not like he has much choice.

In a town like Sheldon, everyone knew everyone. You started kindergarten with maybe twenty other five year olds - most you probably already knew - and spent the next thirteen years with those same kids. You watched Maude Montgomery transform from the aesthetic-equivalent of Danny Devito to Jennifer Lawrence in a single summer, thanks to a late brush with puberty; you were right there when Casey Atkinson was put in a wheelchair and spent seventh grade learning to walk again. You knew that Ariel Turner was diabetic, Marley Harris was asthmatic, and you’d seen thirteen years of peanut-free lunches and birthday parties because Joey Thompson was highly allergic.

The joy of small towns.

Everyone knew that Jerry Whitlock hit his kids and his wife, but no one talked about it - not to their faces, at least. The adults tended to march Jasper home, to face his father’s wrath. The kids tended to get uncomfortable, and look through him. The few people who tried to reach out were from out of town, and were usually passing through - the odd teacher, a new neighbour, a concerned face on the bus.

Better to go home until school opened up.

Louise is in the kitchen, her face pinched and pale, clutching a cup of coffee. She looks hopeful when he walks in, but seems to crumple in on herself when she sees his bloody, swollen face. She looks old as she puts down her mug, and moves to pull him into a hug. He pretends not to notice her shuddering, as she cries onto his shoulder, before pulling away.

“I’ll make breakfast,” she manages, sniffling. “Okay? You must be hungry.”

He grunts and nods, as he heads upstairs. As if scrambled eggs and burnt toast can fix another Tuesday night.

But Wednesdays are good - the longest possible time until another Tuesday night.

He just has to keep telling himself that.

—

Seventeen.

Another Tuesday behind Dewey’s, but this time he’s puking up the few mouthfuls of food he managed before his father hauled him out the back - only because it was his mom’s week off and they were having a big family dinner. Louise resented those mid-week dinners; after a long day at work, having to make dinner for twenty-three people, and somehow find enough plates and chairs was the last thing she wanted to do. It was the only time Lydia would cross their father’s sight line, skinny and defiant.

If it had been a normal dinner, Jerry wouldn’t have dragged him out of the house. He would have beat him in the kitchen, yelling over Hettie’s sobs and Flo’s screams, and Louise’s pleading. He’s had a serving platter smashed over his head before, as well as a beer bottle, and a ceramic pitcher - one that had been made by Grandma Lillian, and Louise had sobbed over those broken shards.

His head is spinning, and he can’t remember exactly what he said to incite his father’s rage, though he remembers Uncle Bo’s jeers when he tried to stand up. The previous week’s wounds have reopened, and are bleeding onto his last decent t shirt. There’s vomit and alley-juice all over his jeans, and he wonders if he should drag himself to the hospital because his world is still spinning.

He wonders what will happen if he dies tonight; if Roy Lester finds him here in the morning, cold and dead. Most of the cops in town are from old families, and they’ve taken Lydia and Jasper back home enough times to know what goes on. It’s easier to picture the cover-up, that they’ll blame him and a make-believe schoolyard fight. Just a tragic accident.

Maybe then someone will help Lydia, help all of his sisters. Maybe it’ll be the thing that makes his mom leave.

He falls asleep facedown in the alley, and wants to cry when he wakes up the next morning to the bellow of school kids heading to the bus stop.

He was so goddamned close to it all being over.

So close.

—

“Do you need some help?”

It’s another Tuesday night, one that has come with busted ribs and possibly a dislocated shoulder. He missed lunch because of an English project, and his father had been drinking early, so he hasn’t eaten since breakfast. It’s making him feel sick, and wondering if anyone will notice if he sneaks in the back door of Dewey’s and grab some food.

And then someone is there and talking to him.

Her voice is high and sweet, and he expects a high school girl, maybe a sorority sister.

She is neither.

She’s only as tall as Flo, with uneven black hair curling around her cheeks. She’s one of the prettiest girls he has ever seen, with huge amber-coloured eyes that remind him of Hettie’s dolls and Lydia’s manga. She’s wearing a ragged button-up over a ruffled mini-skirt and leggings, with boots that look a size too big, a heavy man’s watch that hangs from her tiny wrist, and an ancient looking cadet’s cap - the entire effect makes him think of Oliver Twist as a female circus performer.

She walks over to him, and crouches in front of him, her head cocked to the side like a bird’s. He can only stare; other than the dark smudges under her eyes that speak of many sleepless nights, she is beautiful.

“Are you okay?” she asks, looking worried.

“Yeah,” he croaks, and winches as he jars his ribs. He doubles over, and cries out. She reaches out towards him but backs off just as suddenly.

“You’re hurt,” she says, looking bewildered and frightened. “Where?”

“I-It’s okay,” he manages, trying to reclaim his dignity in front of the prettiest girl. “I’ll be fine.”

The girl huffs. “Ugh, boys,” she mutters. “Hold on a second.” She gets up and slips out of the alley before he can beg her not to get help. In reality, going to the hospital is the last thing he should do - they can’t afford the bill, and  they’ll call home and… no. Just no.

His head is spinning, so he finds it hard to tell how much time has passed, but eventually she returns. She’s clutching two bags, and marches right up to him and crouches back down.

“This will help,” she says, holding out painkillers and a bottle of water. He fumbles with the lids of both, but eventually swallows the pillows down. She watches him carefully. “Don’t drink too fast,” she advises. “Now, I can put your shoulder back in now, or we can wait. It’s up to you.”

He blinks at her slowly. “Now,” he decides.

“Okay,” she looks nervous, but moves forward. It’s all blurry in his mind, but there is something cold, then hot, angry pain, and then he’s blinking up at her again. “Sorry. But trust me, the worst is over now. At least I didn’t break it worse. Hungry?”

He blinks as she reaches for the other bag - a bag of Skittles, a packaged sandwich, two oranges, and a bag of potato chips. He’s not sure if he has a concussion or it’s an odd selection, but he’s also hungry enough that he doesn’t care.

“I nearly had to call Bella, to ask what to get - Edward never let me buy her food after the chicken incident - which was entirely Emmett’s fault - but I think I figured it out okay,” the girl jabbers, taking a seat beside him, and smiles at him. “Better no one knows where I am, anyway.”

“I… thanks,” he croaked, as he reached for the sandwich. She beams at him again, and then frowns.

“Eat, then we’ll finish patching you up. I’ve come too far to watch you die in this disgusting place,” she stretches her legs out in front of her.

The sandwich is dry, but he wolfs it down - an orange too, before he takes a breath - that hurts - and takes another look at the tiny girl beside him.

“Who are you?” he finally asks, and she looks up from her watch.

“Oh! I’m Alice,” she says. “Sorry, I forgot you didn’t know. Do you want your ribs taped now, or are you going to open those?” She points to the Skittles.

“Um, I…” he looks at the bag of candy. “Do you want some?” This feels like a fever dream; maybe he’s passed out and this is just what his banged-up brain has provided him with.

“No,” she shakes her head, and the cadet’s cap tilts a little on her head. “I can’t. They just looked nice. Happy.”

“Happy,” he echoes, looking at the red package.

“I hear that sometimes little things can help,” Alice says. “Come on, cowboy, take that shirt off and let me see those ribs.”

His side is mottled black and blue and purple, and moving in basically any direction is a new adventure in pain. Alice gasps at the sight, and then coos at him in a way that is oddly comforting as her fingers trace his ribs - the coldness of her fingers is actually wonderful against the pain. Then comes the painful stage - as she, not entirely gently enough, begins layering tape over the pain, his head is spinning.

“All done,” Alice says, and her voice is soft, and when he slumps against her shoulder, she doesn’t move away. She smells like old fashioned things, like roses and linen. It reminds him of the old family homestead. He finds his eyes closing, and his side aches in time with his heart, and then Alice’s gentle fingers are running through his hair.

“Sleep, Jasper,” she murmurs, “I’ll keep watch.”

He’s asleep before he realises he never told her his name.

—

She’s gone when he wakes up, and the Skittles are in his pocket - along with the painkillers. Happy.

It’s Wednesday morning, and it’s not exactly ‘happy’ he’s feeling, but he’s got candy in his pocket and time to go home for a shower and more food, so Alice was right - the little things do help.

—

She never turns up two Tuesdays in a row, but he does see her again. She’s always more prepared than the first time, with a bag that always seems to contain exactly what they need - in his less lucid states, he is reminded of Mary Poppins’ magic carpet bag as she produces snacks and first aid kits, and even clothing.

Her attempts at first aid are, at best, rough and she accidentally breaks two of his fingers and nearly ends up in tears when he yells in pain, and hugs him so tight, weeping into his neck, that he ends up trying to comfort her.

Sometimes he sleeps. She’s so thin and tiny that her shoulder isn’t a good pillow, and he feels like a shit man, letting such a tiny girl keep watch behind a bar. It wouldn’t take much to break her, and he can’t defend anyone in this state.

But some Tuesdays, he falls asleep anyway, breathing in that scent of fresh roses and linen, and listening to her chatter away about people he doesn’t know, about places he’s never visited, about books he’s never read.

Alice sounds like she’s living a really nice life. One week, she quizzes him on his Spanish before his examine the next day, and her accent is flawless. When her phone buzzes and buzzes and buzzes, and she ignores it, she usually swears - he doesn’t know in what language, one of the Eastern Asian ones he thinks - but it’s definitely a swear.

He wishes he could see her, talk to her, out in the real world and prove to her that he’s not just a beat-up kid. But she’s always gone on Wednesday mornings, and he doesn’t even know how to contact her anyway.

All in all, he met Alice in the reeking alley behind Dewey’s with a concussion, broken ribs, and a dislocated shoulder, and now she’s the best friend he’s ever had in the world.

He’s getting closer to that ‘happy’ concept that she mentioned the first time they met.

—

The last time he sees her, he’s bleeding and he’s pretty sure his eye socket is fractured. He’s pissed with himself because he wasn’t fast enough, smart enough, to stop his father from going after Flo. So he’d thrown a punch at his old man  for the first time because Flo is his baby sister and all haunted eyes and he’ll never forget the sounds of her wailing after the belt struck her, but hitting the bastard back just fuelled him and … fuck.

Then Alice is there, in jeans with stars on the knees and a billowy purple top that is just opaque enough to obscure the skin underneath. She looks angry and frustrated, and doesn’t just sit next to him and open her bag like she usually does.

“It’s a stupid fucking decision you’re about to make,” she stamps her foot, “and I am so mad at you right now, but Carlisle and Edward have made me promise not to interfere. Carlisle says that everything I’m doing now is enough. And I’m already in enough trouble, honestly.”

He can taste foil again - definitely a fractured eye socket.

“What?” he manages, snappish and tired. He doesn’t need this. He wants sweet Alice, who helps him patch himself back together, and gets him food, and talks him to sleep. The one who makes him laugh, even when it hurts, and seems to be light-years ahead of him but that’s okay because she’s always so happy about whatever she’s telling him.

“I’m going to say this once,” she enunciates carefully, still glaring. “I will be here every Tuesday. Don’t make a dumb decision. There is always another choice.”

“You’re making less sense than normal,” he retorts. “Either help me, or go away - I’m not in the mood.”

“Happy freakin’ birthday,” she snaps, unbuckling her giant watch, and throws it at him before she storms back the way she came, leaving him behind.

Got any jeremwood ideas rattling around your brain? I've been craving battle buddies (lately, but also always), smooches ideally

You know, friend? I’ve had Battle Buddies in the back of my brain a lot recently and like nothing for them to do? But then in the shower this morning I had an Idea.

These two idiots working for their respective agencies or units and have the Worst Bosses whether through sheer incompetence or design. (Laziness or greed and not their problem if some asshole agents/operatives bit it on their watch. Hell, might be for the best if they do, if the WB is corrupt or working for the Enemy whoever that is.)

Ryan, well he’s in a Bad Place because some missions that Went Wrong and his name’s not worth much in their world anymore, right? Everyone thinks he’s either the worst kind of jinx with how many missions/operations go to shit when he’s around or he’s on the Enemy’s payroll. (Whoever that may be.)

Jeremy?

Young and stupid and got into some shit he shouldn’t have and it was this or jail and for whatever reason this seemed like the better deal. (Tell that to his scars or nightmares or shortened life-span whenever that shitball mission that gets him killed way before his time rolls around, though.)

They’re both stuck where they are and (more or less) resigned to it.

Ryan’s got Plans, though, on how to get out of his situation. Intel and Secrets he’s been gathering for years hoping to expose the people behind whatever gave him a bad reputation. (He spins it like that in his head sometimes, tries to make it about himself and not the others, the good people he’s known, who got killed by these assholes because otherwise he might abandon the long game he’s been playing for years and go in guns blazing. (OR the equivalent.)

Jeremy’s got an idea or two, but they keep reassigning him or the people he trusts to help him and he’s not sure what the safest way to do this is anymore. (Oh, he’s not worried for himself, but Matt and Trevor? Yeah. Big, big worries about those two assholes and how easy it would be for them to have “accidents” if he fucks up, so. Yeah.)

ANYWAY.

Their bosses have been working them hard for a few months (months, years, it all blurs together you know?) and they get some downtime before a Big Mission.

Conveniently (Plot Reasons) they’re in the same city at the time, because of course they are. Last stop coming back from a shitty mission to go to HQ to brief for the next shitty mission and their flight isn’t until the next day or something along those lines. (PLOT REASONS.)

Ryan gets a message telling him to meet a contact who might be able to help him with his own secret mission at a shady club somewhere. Jeremy – fuck.

He just wants a drink, and if he runs into someone to spend the night with that’s a bonus. (All this stress from the last however long and knowing he’s probably going to be dead by the end of the week, and why the fuck not, right?)

SO.

They both end up at the same club (PLOT REASONS) and Ryan’s contact never shows, so he just. Fuck, he’s already there and the diet soda’s flowing and just.

He doesn’t even know, is the thing.

Doesn’t want to go back to the shithole he’s been staying at because it’s bugged to high hell and it’s always entertaining to people watch. (Entertaining and keeps his skills sharp, two birds and all that.)

After a while he notices this one guy, right? Short as hell but there’s just something about him that makes you forget that – might be the fact he’s about to get into a fucking fight with some asshole hassling a couple of women. (Young, college age or thereabouts and looking around for the bouncer who’s been MIA for a while now.)

No one else seems willing to get involved, deescalate things or back the short fucker up, so Ryan tosses back the last of his drink (and fuck, fuck, don’t do that again because oh, God, the carbonation,) and goes over to help.

He doesn’t catch what the drunk asshole says – music’s too loud and there are people all over the fucking place – but he hears the short guy laugh. This bark, really, sounds like he’s heard the best damn joke ever – and hauls back and decks the drunk asshole without dropping that bright, friendly smile of his.

Fucking goes for it, you know? Perfect form and in the back of Ryan’s head he knows it’s weird to be hung up on that, but he’s too busy watching the short bastard turn to handle the drunk asshole’s friend to be bothered by that. (Also, making his way through the crowd to help, all “Pardon me,” and, “Passing through, don’t mind me, ladies,” and so on.

By the time he reaches the short bastard (of course it’s Jeremy) Jeremy’s taken care of two more assholes and all that’s left for Ryan to do is trip the last idiot running into the fight so he falls on his face and just kind of stays there, too drunk to realize what just happened and overall just dumb.

Jeremy’s got all this adrenaline running through him and turns to face Ryan, thinking he’s just another asshole (he’s not wrong on that one, but Ryan’s a different kind of asshole, so…) and Ryan gives him this dumb smile and holds his hands up.

“Whoa, hey,” he says, and he’s laughing a little because Jeremy looks like he’s about to go for his damn throat. “I was going to lend you a hand with these idiots, but it looks like you have everything under control.”

Jeremy stares at him because what? After a moment what Ryan says actually registers and he looks around at the drunk assholes picking themselves up off the ground (or helping their buddies who Jeremy knocked the fuck out) scurry off with their tails between their legs.

And then it’s mutual staring because Idiots, and the women Jeremy helped clear their throats and thank him before wandering off.

More staring?

Jeremy looking Ryan over like hey, okay, not bad on the eyes, and he doesn’t seem like an asshole? Meanwhile Ryan’s like oh, no because Jeremy’s also not hard on the eyes and it’s been a while for him and how do social interaction with someone who’s not a contact or target or WB?

Thankfully Jeremy is less of a human disaster (not by much, but it’s enough) and they wander off to a quiet table somewhere. Ryan gets another diet soda and Jeremy gets his drink and they chitchat for a while, Jeremy getting a wee bit tipsy and Ryan getting a wee bit more oh, no because Jeremy’s nice and funny and laughs at Ryan’s dumb jokes even though they’re both well aware how terrible they are?

And then!

Just when they’re about to maybe get around to the your place or mine bit of the conversation, they both notice some Shady Dealings going on.

Too well-trained not to notice, and Ryan’s like well, shit and makes up some lame excuse to go check on things, not knowing he beat Jeremy to it by mere seconds.

Ryan goes all Sekrit Agent/operative with the stealthily following/eavesdropping whatever while Jeremy does the same. (Due to Plot Reasons they don’t spot one another right away because Plot Reasons.)

The stalking continues long enough for them to realize some serious shit is going down – maybe ties into their respective missions, maybe not.

Shenanigans in which they lose the guy’s they’re tailing and round a corner to run into one another and don’t recognize one another at first, just think they’re baddies?

Some hand-to-hand Sekrit Agent fighty stuff until Ryan manages to pin Jeremy (height/weight advantage or something, and Jeremy’s still got that alcohol slowing his reflexes and just, yes) and then Ryan’s like - !!! because it’s the guy from the club?

Jeremy totally gave him a fake name – old habits and Ryan still doesn’t believe anyone would be so cruel to name their kid Rimmy Tim, but whatever.

ANYWAY.

Jeremy is likewise !!! because what are the odds, right? (Ryan also gave him a fake name, and no one names their kid Reggie or whatever, but the hell does he know?)

Some Suspicion because what are the odds, indeed. Also, their respective situations and career choice make trust a hard thing to earn and all that, but before they can get too deeply into the do they or don’t they of trusting one another the actual baddies find them.

Thought they were being followed and better check it out, and anyway, there’s the usual shootout/hide behind cover and snark back and forth before one of them gets a flesh wound and they manage to escape.

Go to some cheap motel – God knows wherever they’ve been staying isn’t safe or secure – bugged to hell and who the fuck knows what else – to patch one another up. Offer some truth – sekrit agent/operatives and (technically) on the same side and the baddies are definitely NOT on their side and too much Good Guys NOT to look into things even if they’re on their own?

And wouldn’t you know it, they both know where to get their hands on the weapons gear they’re going to need to deal with things in the city and it’s just.

The two of them working together – and totally flirting because there are no rules tonight, you know? They’re probably (definitely) going to get themselves killed doing this and no WB breathing down their necks and their next mission probably would have killed them anyway.

Super competent sekrit agent/operative stuff with the track jig down the baddies and finding out what they’re doing (weapons trades or national secrets, something blah, blah, blah,) and being all oh no, that’s hot when one of them shows their competence or does some cool sekrit agent/operative thing?

Also bantering and realizing that while this is the worst idea either of them has ever had, it’s also the most fun?

(Which is sad because wow, they’ve wasted a lot of their lives working for assholes, but whatever.)

Before they go in for the climactic fight or whatever, they’re like, fuck it and kiss because might as well at this point, right?

Probably going to die, and if they don’t it’s not going to hurt. (They were thinking about the whole one-night stand thing before the sekrit agent/operative shit happened, so yeah.)

Action scene like whoa in which there is shooting and yelling and (flesh wounds on Ryan and Jeremy’s part because I’m a sucker for those, sorry friend) and one of them being held at gunpoint, because of course they are.

The thing where their eyes meet and the one being held at gunpoint by the Head Baddy (Jeremy, it’s totally Jeremy) is all “Do it,” or “This isn’t your fault,” or something else the Good Guy always says in this situation? And  Ryan starts to lower his gun because he can’t let the HB kill him?

And just when the HB is all gloaty mcgloaterson, Ryan whips out a throwing knife and gets him in the throat, saving Jeremy’s life and making the HB super dead.

The !!! moment of realizing wow, he’s not dead? And Ryan being like wow, it actually worked? Neat! And then the two of them staring at one another like what now?

Which, of course, is when the sekrit agents/operatives who have been watching HB and their cronies this whole time show up.

Geoff and his idiots and just. The fuck did you two do? (~Ruined months of work on Gavin and Michael’s part, since they’ve been working on getting HB and their people with the weapons trade/national secret thing and goddamn, what the fuck you two?)

Ryan and Jeremy being all ??? while Geoff’s people swarm the area and get shunted off to a little gray room somewhere for debriefing/interrogation thinking they’re really fucked this time? Sit there for hours and hours and hours. (Chitchat and banter and try not to think about what’s going to happen to them now.)

But of course not. (Because Plot Reasons.)

Geoff sweeps in with Jack and they have a nice chat about things.

The shit Ryan and Jeremy did with HB and their people, and their respective situations with their agencies/units and what do they say about working for Geoff instead?

“Uh,” and “What?”, and “Are you high?”

Because look.

No way their respective agencies/units are going to let them go knowing what they do, right? Shady as hell and corrupt and they’d rather see Ryan and Jeremy dead than let them tell anyone what’s been going on. (Have been trying for a while, actually, but they’re stubborn bastards.)

Geoff rolling his eyes and asking them if they’d like to work for him if he helped them take care of their respective agencies/units because he’s had his people looking into things since Ryan and Jeremy stumbled into their operation and the things they found, you know?

Still.

Best deal they’ve been offered – and who knows, they might live through it – so they say yes.

Geoff is delighted because he’s been meaning to deal with their agencies/units but hasn’t had the time with other shit going on. But with them on board it’ll go faster, or something?

Whatever.

Jeremy won’t do it unless Geoff gets Matt and Trevor out of his agency/unit – which he does because they’re useful bastards. (Also, like hell would he have left them there once he found out what was going on.)

Ryan’s own people (the ones still alive) were out of the line of fire before now, so he’s good to go.

Geoff (who doesn’t realize what he’s done, but when he does? ALL the regret) introduces them to Gavin and Michael and everyone else and it’s pretty much a disaster in the best way.

They get teamed up because everyone's impressed with what they managed to do and all that. Work together for a few months with the flirting and banter before they finally go on a date-thing?

Like.

Flirting’s easy, comes with the territory, but actual FEELINGs and whatnot are complicated and stupid hard. (...that’s what she said.)

Takes a close call to make them realize they’re wasting time better spent NOT being dumbasses (and maybe one of the others says as much) and then it’s some blurted invitation to coffee or burgers or whatever and this date...thing.

It gets ruined, of course, because enemies from their past pop up and shoot at them and then shenanigans? But they smooch somewhere in there and get other the awkward stage of being them and not knowing how to do FEELINGS and like. Save the day, but also smooch, idk, you know how these things go.

And then everyone makes fun of them for forever for not figuring their shit out before then, and also a lot of death-defying shenanigans and explosions and sekrit agent/operative fun-times???

994

Basic Information

What's your name? Name’s already posted on my Tumblr but so that nobody has to check that anymore, Robyn.

Where do you live? I live in some city east of Manila, and that’s all you need to know.

When's your birthday? April 21st.

What's your astrological sign? Taurus.

Do you actually believe in that stuff? Never did.

How old are you? 22.

Do you have a high school diploma or the equivalent? Yeah I got a diploma.

Do you have an undergraduate degree? If so, in what? Yup. I’ve graduated but I haven’t received the diploma nor did I get to walk on a stage because of the stupid virus, but I majored in journalism.

What is your favorite...

Quote? I don’t have any. My brain doesn’t really store quotes for me to go back to; I don’t find the majority of them interesting.

Color? My main favorite is pink, but I enjoy looking at pastel shades and muted colors in general too.

Song? Picking an all-time favorite song is impossible, but for now I really like putting Hayley Williams’ Why We Ever on repeat. It used to be just a sad song that I love listening to but unfortunately the lyrics have since become relatable, so now there’s a sting whenever I hear it.

Band/singer? My favorite bands are Paramore and Against Me! while my favorite solo act is Beyoncé.

Book? I never had one. I was a big bookworm as a kid, but I didn’t get to keep it up as a teenager and now as an adult. Most of the books I own today are still just the novels I had nearly a decade ago, and it’s been a struggle trying to find a genre to get into.

Author? Same situation as book.

School subject? History. A lot of the social sciences are also great – anthropology, pol sci, psychology, etc. In another universe I definitely would’ve taken up a degree in a social science instead of journalism.

Science (chemistry, biology, physics, etc.)? Biology has always been a strength of mine and a favorite. I find memorizing terms fun, and I’ve always enjoyed studying living things instead of chemicals or energy or force or any of that boring stuff. 

Math (algebra, geometry, calculus, etc.)? Advanced algebra is fun. So is geometry, but only as long as you know all the formulas and theories; otherwise it’s so easy to fail it.

Language? I don’t have one. I think all languages are individually beautiful.

Operating system? Wow this is random lol. macOS, I guess. It’s what I’m using.

Instrument? I like the sound of many instruments, but in the grand scheme of things the piano has to be my absolute favorite.

Letter? I don’t pick a favorite letter.

Number? 4.

Car? I don’t know the first thing about cars but I suppose my dream car is a Mini Countryman, if that counts as a favorite. I swoon every time I see one in real life; they’re just so pretty to look at.

Pattern (polka spots, stripes, plaid, etc.)? Stripes are my cup of tea, but polka dots are also cute.

Word? The word that’s been my favorite for a while is ‘poignant.’

Animal? I love animals, but I’m biased to dogs and elephants. :)

Country? I don’t have a favorite country. That’s a pretty odd favorite but *shrug* I guess some people have theirs.

Drink (alcoholic or otherwise)? Water, milkshakes, and cocktails.

Food? Sushi, curry, cheeseburgers, and macarons. You can’t make me go with just one choice when it comes to food, my dude.

Restaurant? Yabu and Torch.

Website? I rely a lot on YouTube for my sanity these days so it’d be fair to call that my favorite, at least for the meantime.

Sport? If it counts, pro wrestling. If it doesn’t, I like playing table tennis and watching volleyball and tennis.

Flower? Peonies, roses, and sunflowers.

Ice cream flavor? Cookies and cream is a classic.

Television show? Breaking Bad is my favorite ever, but I also enjoy Friends, The Crown, and Bojack Horseman, and at one point The Walking Dead before it got honestly boring.

Shirt? I don’t really have a favorite shirt, but my favorite type to wear is anything sleeveless. I like giving my skin air to breathe, lol.

Shape? I don’t pick favorite shapes.

Eye color? Olive is beautiful.

Hair color? I’m indifferent to hair colors. Whatever suits a person.

Movie? Two for the Road and Good Will Hunting.

Gum flavor? Fruity ones.

Random Stuff About You

Do you have your drivers' license? Yeah. I had to get it as soon as I graduated high school because no one else was going to be able to bring me to school in college. I was in driving school like a week or two after marching on stage for my high school diploma haha.

Have you ever been swimming in an ocean? I don’t know if I have. In the vacations I’ve had, I don’t really keep track if I’m swimming in a sea or if I’m already in one of the oceans.

What's the last song you listened to? No clue but it was probably something by Hayley.

Do you prefer coloring pencils, crayons, or markers? Coloring pencils! I miss coloring. I just can’t see myself going back to it at the moment because I had bought a really cheap set of coloring pencils that have to be sharpened every five minutes. During my coloring phase I’m pretty sure I spent more time sharpening my pencils than actually filling in my coloring books. I’ve yet to find a replacement set with better quality.

Can you make any origami figures? If so, what? I’m terrible at origami and have always been. Even if I’m given a one-on-one session, I’ll for sure get lost early on in the process.

Do you still sleep with a stuffed animal? I never did. I always preferred pillows.

Do you get cold easily? I do haha, but I don’t mind it. I’d rather shiver or have my teeth chatter than have a pool of sweat on the back of my shirt from being too hot.

Have you ever been to a chiropractor? Nope.

Do you have great eyesight, or do you wear glasses or contacts? It’s very poor. I’ve had glasses since I was 11, but I needed them a lot earlier, like since I was 8 or 9 maybe. My mom refused to believe me when I started telling her my vision was getting worse because she legitimately thought I just wanted glasses to look like other kids. God, how shitty was that parenting? I can’t believe I just fucking let that go as a kid. My eyesight was getting increasingly blurry by the day and I stopped learning at school and her worry was that I wanted to fit in. I’m gonna get more stressed and hurt if I continue to think about this, so let’s just move on...

Do you know how to play chess? Never learned. I’ve watched my cousin play and he tried to teach me so many times, but I just never understood.

Do you know how to play checkers? At one point I think I did, but I didn’t enjoy it.

Do you like Sudoku puzzles? No. I never got the hang of that game either.

Do you like word searches? Love them.

Do you like crossword puzzles? They’re fine but the ones on our newspapers are too hard and use too many references or plays on words that I’m not able to pick up.

Do you like logic puzzles? It’s a hit or miss.

Can you play any card games? Other than solitaire, no.

Do you play board games? Hmm I played some as a kid, but I’ve always been too competitive and I’m never able to just sit down and have a friendly game so I’m not too big on board games now. I’m a lot happier sitting on the sidelines and watching my friends play because it’s more entertaining that way.

Do you do jigsaw puzzles? Not normally but I’ve been thinking of investing in one of those 1000-piece puzzles to take my mind off of things whenever I get depressed or when my mind starts to think about things it shouldn’t.

Do you listen to the same song on repeat for a long time, even occasionally? Yes. Sometimes I do it on purpose when I’m REALLY feeling a certain song at the moment; other times I don’t even realize the repeat button is turned on and I don’t notice I’ve been listening to the same song over and over.

Do you take any prescription medications on a regular basis? Nope.

Would you prefer to be too hot or too cold? I’ve said this a few questions ago, but too cold.

Do you like to swim? Sure. Being in the water calms me down instantly.

Have you ever been to a farm? I’ve probably been. I just can’t pinpoint a certain memory right now.

Do you like instrumental music? Depends on what the genre is, but I do generally prefer instrumental music when I’m working or have to focus.

Do you drink diet soda? Nope.

Do you drink soda? Andddddd nope.

Have you ever put Mentos into soda? I haven’t but I know what it does. There’s already like a million videos of other people doing it so I don’t need to do it for myself. 

Have you ever combined baking soda and vinegar? No.

Did you ever make Oobleck in science class when you were a kid? We never did and I learned about oobleck from watching a Good Mythical Morning episode, not in school. But I’ve always been curious as to what the texture is because it looks so fun to touch hahaha. I’d try making it myself but idk if we ever have cornstarch at home.

Do you know any HTML? Yes. Early days of Tumblr, man. People customized their themes and text posts all the time.

Have you ever read any of Shakespeare's work? Well, yeah. I had to read four of them - one for each year in high school.

Do you write poetry? No.

Do you read? Occasionally. A lot less than I used to.

Can you throw a frisbee? Sure. My friends and I played back in high school.

Do you watch a lot of television? Eh, not really. It’s rare that I discover a TV series I’m willing to invest in; I’ve always preferred movies since they can tell me a story within 2-3 hours. Following an ongoing show is just exhausting.

Do you think that you have a good sense of humor? Humor is subjective. I could mesh well with certain people but others might not find my sense of humor funny. I don’t think either of those can determine if my sense of humor is good or not.

Are you a mean person? Well, I try not to be...I think that’s what most people strive to do.

Do you have any bruises? If so, how did you get them? I have one on my knee because a few days ago I knelt to the floor to try to look for something under my bed, and I ended up landing on the floor quite hard and it was purple in minutes lmao. It’s mostly healed now though and I can barely tell where it is.

Does the thought of public speaking make you nervous? It only does if I ultimately also have to pitch something, because I don’t consider myself persuasive at all. But if I had had something memorized or had enough practice or if it’s a topic I’m fairly knowledgable about then I don’t have much of a problem with it.

Are you afraid of heights? It doesn’t bother me as much as other things and I’ve always wanted to go to the top floor of those towers where the floor is glass lol, but like I’d absolutely piss my pants if I found myself standing on a tightrope between two really tall buildings.

So, what ARE you afraid of? Flying cockroaches, plane crashes, and fire.

Are you listening to music? No.

Has anyone ever called you 'disturbed'? I don’t think so, at least not to my face.

Have you ever been kicked out of a place? If so, where? And why? Yeah. From a McDonald’s, but it was my noisy friends’ fault. I knew they were being loud (they were playing some card game) so I just stayed at the very edge of our table, pretended not to be associated with them and waited for a customer to complain about us lol. Normally I’d speak up and tell friends if they’re being too immature, but in that friend group in particular I was the shyest and didn’t really hold a lot of influence so I didn’t have much of a choice.

Do you take a lot of these surveys? Yeah I have this entire blog dedicated to just them, and even before this account I had another survey blog.

When was the last time you fingerpainted? No idea. Kindergarten maybe? If we even ever did?

When was the last time you sent an e-mail? Yesterday afternoon.

A text message? 1 AM earlier.

Called someone on the phone? I think it was around two weeks ago.

Tripped over something? I’m sure I tripped over Kimi fairly recently, like sometime this week.

Do you like chocolate? Sure but on its own it can be too sweet for me, like the Hershey’s milk chocolate bar. I do love chocolate-flavored stuff or if it’s incorporated into other meals or snacks, like chocolate chip cookies.

How many pillows are on your bed? Right now there aren’t any because I brought the two pillows, that I do normally have on my bed, to my desk where I’m currently sitting at.

Do you have any pets? Yeah one of them is licking their balls behind me. The other one is probably playing with their toys downstairs and miraculously being quiet this morning.

Have you ever been on a horse? Yep.

Have you ever climbed a tree? I don’t think so. Most trees here have fire ants anyway.

Do you like art? Sure do.

Do you use any sort of social networking site? I mean normally yeah, but I’ve deactivated all my accounts for the meantime. Depression is a bitch. I’m no longer updated on the news nor am I familiar with the trendy memes anymore but idk, this seems to be the healthiest thing for me right now.

What time is it? 9:11 AM.

Have you ever been in a car accident? Super minor ones where the car I was in only got a paint scratch or, at worst, a dent or two.

When was the last time you felt embarrassed? Yesterday when I almost sent a message talking about a certain person to that certain person. It was nothing mean, but I was horrified nonetheless.

Did it rain today? No. I’m not sure if it will but I hope it does.

Have you ever had a poison ivy rash? No. When was the last time you felt immensely happy? LOL Do you take a multivitamin or any other supplement? We have vitamin C tablets at home but I’m so bad at taking them. What household chore do you absolutely hate? Washing rags. Not really a chore, but once they get all dirty and I have to clean them up it just feels so icky and ueughdhffgbduifhsuf Tell me something random about yourself. I’ve won a couple of spicy noodle speed eating challenges. Can you cook? No, but I’d love to learn. Do you like to be silly? I’m a little more serious than silly for the most part...but when I’m in the right mood at the right time with the right crowd, I can be silly too. What kinds of things have you wanted to be 'when you grow up'? The first was astronaut. Then I came across this interview with a veterinarian and I wanted to be one too. Lastly, a firefigher. Have you ever been on a boat? Yeah, lots of times. Sometimes it’s the only way to get to certain provinces or cities in the country so we’ve had to take boats for a few trips. Do/did you like school? For the most part, yes. I like that I made a lot of friends in school and I don’t have complaints about learning. What I hated the most about school is the scheduling, I guess. In my first school I had to wake up at 5 AM everyday to catch the school bus; and then in college I had to take several 7 AM classes and those were just the biggest, most inconvenient bitches. I also did not enjoy the concept of Catholic school. Do you have a camera? I used to have a DSLR but I’ve since handed it down to my sister since she’s taking up film. The camera on my phone works just fine. Have you ever been bitten by a tick? I don’t think so.

Have you ever seen a wild snake? I don’t really know what counts as a ‘wild’ snake but I’ve handled and held snakes before. Have you ever gone hiking in the woods? Hmm I’ve gone hiking, but not in the woods. Do you have a lot of friends? There’s a lot of people I can call friends, yes. We aren’t constantly in touch, though. All my friendships are super low-maintenance which I appreciate. Do you keep a diary/journal/blog? I have a journal and this blog where I write my thoughts and emotions down. What color are your eyes? Dark brown. Answering this yet again this week... Do you like snow? I’ve never experienced it so I can’t say. I think I would enjoy snow though. I feel that I’d be able to find comfort in it, like rain. Would you prefer to sing or dance in front of other people? Both sound awful. But I’d go with sing because at least I don’t have to move my body as much. Would you prefer to sing or dance when you're by yourself? Sing.

Can you spell really well? I’d say I can. I was really inspired by the movie Akeelah and the Bee as a kid and that made me want to be constantly good at spelling. Do you mind poor grammar? If it’s coming from a native speaker of whatever language, yeah. Like people who can only speak English but still use ‘would of’ or ‘I could care less.’ I’m more forgiving towards people who speak one language, or those who are speaking in a language they know they aren’t 100% fluent in. What's your favorite texting/IM abbreviation? I don’t have one. ‘lol’ I guess? It’s convenient. Do you wear a watch? No. Do you shop at thrift stores? Sometimes, if I find their offers interesting enough for me to want to go inside. What is your dream job? It’s pretty straightforward but it’d be nice to be able to work my way up and end up as an executive at a PR or media agency that I look up to. What is one thing that really freaks you out? Charlie Kaufman movies. Do you like bananas? They’re okay. I don’t hate bananas as aggressively as I do other fruits. Do you eat meat? Yes. Do you drink coffee? Yuh. I can go for a cup right now, actually...maybe when I finish this survey. Do you clean your computer screen often? Not often. Just every once in a while or once I start seeing too many smudges. Have you ever sneezed onto your computer screen? Probably.

Let's talk about numbers.

How many people live with you?

Four. We also have two animals.

136+95=...?

231. That’s essentially 136 + 100 - 5.

How many digits of pi do you have memorized?

Just the first five.

Can you count using binary numbers?

No. Never understood those, not interested enough to start learning.

How many states have you visited?

Zero.

How many countries?

Six. Would’ve been seven or even eight if Covid never blew up. I know my dad mentioned there were plans for us to go to Vietnam this year, and I also asked for a Thailand trip as a graduation present. Damn bat soup or whatever it was.

How many browser windows/tabs do you have open?

I have three Chrome windows in total. On the one I’m on, there are 13 tabs.

How many times have you blinked in the past minute?

I dunno, I never count that?

How many seconds are in a minute?

60.

Are you afraid of mathematics?

Calculus and trig, yeah. The other ones aren’t so bad.

What's the square root of 121? 11.

Sorry, sorry, the nightmare is over :) How about some more random questions to let you relax?

Have you ever read the webcomic xkcd?

I doubt it. I don’t think I’ve heard of it before.

Can you play an instrument?

Barely.

Can you read sheet music?

Not a chance.

What's your favorite kind of sandwich?

Monte Cristo! Omg, that sounds so good right now :( Banh mi is great too.

Do you have a bedtime?

Not strictly but I always try to get 7-8 hours of sleep on weeknights so that I’m sufficiently energized for work the next day.

Have you ever gone sledding?

No, I haven’t.

Have you ever carved a pumpkin? If so, what kind of face did you make?

Also no.

Do you ever make funny faces at yourself in the mirror?

I guess it’s happened before, but it’s not a regular occurrence.

Have you ever played the classic shaving-cream-in-the-hand prank on someone?

No.

Do you think that's a mean thing to do?

I don’t think that prank in particular is since shaving cream is harmless, but some pranks can definitely go too far which is why I’m generally not a fan of them.

Do you like cake?

Only very certain types. I can think of more cakes that I don’t like than the ones I can never get tired of.

Do you like pie?

Just savory ones, like chicken pot pie. Those are more up my alley than sweet pies, which are for the most part stuffed with a kind of fruit.

Do you like popsicles?

Sure, they’re refreshing.

Do you use the television or computer more?

Laptop.

Do you have a favorite chair to sit in?

Not really lolAre you getting tired of this survey?

It’s lengthy but I knew about it when I started this so I can’t complain about that; and the questions haven’t been annoying too so no, I wouldn’t say I’m tired of it.

Do you like to wear hats? When I have the chance to, yeah. They’re never a must for me though.

Do you wear your seatbelt in the car?

Most of the time no. Oops.

Do your shoes provide lots of arch support?

I...don’t know. I don’t really pay attention.

Do you like to go to yard sales? I haven’t gone to one since I was a kid.

Have you ever had a yard sale at your house? I don’t think we ever did.

Do you like apples? I like some apple-flavored things like juice or candy. I can’t stand the actual fruit but y’all know that by now, haha.

Do you like peanut butter? Yessssssss. I love peanut butter and any peanut butter-flavored food.

Do you like licorice? Not really. They’re not common here so I don’t seek it out.

Do you like lima beans? It doesn’t sound like something I’d enjoy.

Do you like limes? Not particularly.

What color are your bedroom walls? White.

Guess how many questions you've done. I don't know either, so just guess. Before clicking on it I saw it had 200 or so questions, so I’m guessing we’re at the 180 or 190 mark considering how many questions are left below this.

What's your favorite color to wear? I feel prettiest in dark green or maroon. Do you tell secrets when people confide in you? I’m not sure what this is supposed to be asking, but I’ll give two answers. (1) I don’t spill other people’s secrets when they confide in me, and (2) When people confide in me, sometimes I’ll be inspired to share a secret of my own too, especially if it’s relevant to their situation. If I don’t think it’s going to be helpful, I just keep it to myself. Do you listen to your music with the volume up really high? Only when I’m extremely upset or furious. Do you like to try new foods? Absolutely. How many different programs are you currently using? Like applications? Currently, I have Chrome, Viber, and Notes turned on. How many different operating systems have you used? I’ve gone through Windows XP, Windows Vista, Windows 8, and then whatever updates have been done on macOS since 2015 - I don’t really keep track of their names lol. What time is it now? 12:03 PM. Are you wearing socks? Nope. Are you comfortable with yourself? These days, no. Do you lose small things (like your car keys) often? Hah, yes. Is your mind in the gutter? No. Have you ever broken a bone? I haven’t. Are you more of an introvert or an extrovert? I’m a healthy mix of both, I’d say. Which is still a great improvement for me because I used to be an introvert all the way through. Do you read the dictionary for fun? I literally did this for a time right after watching Akeelah and the Bee and having that movie change my life. It made me want to join a shit ton of spelling bees, but my interest waned when I realized there weren’t any being held here.  Tater tots or fries? Fries, only because I’ve never had the first. Do you like to wear flip flops? No. The thongs irritate my skin all the time and they always give me wounds. Are you more of an optimist or pessimist? I’m normally optimistic but it’s easier to be pessimistic nowadays. Do you like animals? Yes :) Do you like little kids? If they aren’t being a giant, rude pain in the ass. Are you a 'people person'? Yes. If I can’t satisfy everyone it bothers me. Have you ever seen a rainbow? Sure. How was your day? I haven’t cried today but I’m still sad. Otherwise, I don’t have a lot of strong feelings about this day just yet. What do you plan to do tomorrow? I don’t know yet. When was the last time you did laundry? Around two or three months ago. Have you ever played Snake? On the really old Nokia phones? For sure. Have you ever played Scrabble? Yeah. I took it up for one semester as a PE, hahaha. I also played it a lot when I was younger. Are there any television commercials that really get on your nerves? At the moment no, but this has happened many times before. Do you like scary movies? Sure. Are you itchy anywhere on your body? The left side of my forehead started to feel itchy when I read this. What's the title of the last book you read? Midnight Sun. Do you read more fiction or nonfiction books? Nonfictionnnnnnn. Are you a member of any clubs or organizations? I used to be, but now I’m an alumna because I’ve graduated college. What color is your favorite pair of socks? I don’t have a favorite pair. Do you own a lava lamp? No. Do you have anything else to say? Thanks for serving as a distraction and letting me kill some time.

Boyfriendzoned (Sweet Pea x Reader)

Summary: When Jughead transfers to Southside High, the two of you immediately bond in your shared English class.  Little do you know that your long-time best friend Sweet Pea isn’t okay with that.

Word Count: 2207

Requested: by anon “can I request sweet pea imagine where you have been his bestfriend since you were kids and when Jughead moves to south side high you befriend him and sweets gets jealous and possessive finally telling you that he doesn’t want to lose you to jug?”

A/N: Please excuse how much my nerdiness shows in this one.  Seeing as I’m not actually employed with my English Teaching degree, I suppose I can put it to good use here.  As always, let me know what you think!

Requests are open! || Masterlist

~~~~~

"Shut up, Pea," you laughed, shoving him. "It's not my fault that I didn't realize he was into me."

Sweet Pea gave you a skeptical look. "Oh, really?  Y/N, he asked you to tutor him in Physics—you suck at Physics."

You rolled your eyes. "I do not suck at Physics.  I'm just not awesome at it.  Even a B student tutoring you is better than nothing if you're failing."

"Yeah, but he wasn't failing.  Admit it, Y/N, you're just oblivious to social cues."

You rolled your eyes and started eating lunch.  It wasn't your fault that you never seemed to know when guys were flirting with you.  In your defense, it didn't happen often at all—spending a lot of time with Sweet Pea and Fangs usually scared off all but the bravest guys.

"Real talk, Y/N, are you planning on staying single forever?" Fangs joked, trying not to laugh.

You groaned, wanting to drop your head onto the table in exasperation. "My god, you guys are brutal.  I'm focused on school right now, okay?"

"You've been saying that as long as I've known you," Sweet Pea replied, grinning. "Which was like kindergarten."

"Why do I even hang out with you guys?  Aren't friends supposed to be supportive?"

"This is called tough love, Y/N," Fangs said with a smirk. "My mom swears by it."

I looked up at him, your smirk mirroring his own. "What?  Does she want your single ass to get a date too?"

Fangs gripped his chest like he'd been stabbed, dramatically throwing his head back. "Right in the heart."

Shaking your head, you gave Sweet Pea an amused look. "At least I know that I won't die alone, right, Pea?"

He winked. "Thirty-five, babe."

"Seriously, you two have a marriage pact?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely," you replied, holding up your fist.

Sweet Pea instinctively bumped his fist into yours. "It's our generation's version of a will, Fogarty.  Gotta make sure you don't die old and alone."

Fangs cocked an eyebrow, shaking his head.  He may have been Sweet Pea's best guy friend, but even he didn't quite comprehend the depth of the relationship between the two of you.  Growing up next door to each other, you already knew everything.  You never had to talk about your painful pasts, because you already knew then.  You had been a part of each other's stories since the moment they'd been written.

The bell ringed, and the three of you groaned in unison.

"Back to work," you groaned. "I'm so not in the mood for English today."

"You're always in the mood for English," Sweet Pea replied, walking with you to class. "Why not now?"

"We're reading Thoreau, and I fucking hate Thoreau."

Sweet Pea gave you a skeptical look. "Can't say I've ever read it."

"You're in the same class a different hour, Pea."

"Oh, yeah...definitely haven't read it."

You bit back a laugh, trying not to roll your eyes. "Literally you'd never pass this class without me."

"And that's why I love you, Y/N," he laughed. "See you after school?"

"Always." You turned to walk into your classroom but were shocked to see a new kid in your seat.  He was thin, with dark hair and a beanie that looked like a crown.  You walked over and placed your hand on the desk. "You're in my seat."  

He looked up at you with a shock. "Oh, shit, I--"

"Relax, dude." You dropped your stuff on the floor and sat down in the desk next to him. "I'm Y/N."

"Jughead," he replied.

Your eyebrows rose.  This had to be Jughead Jones, aka F.P. Jr. "Nice to meet you, Jughead."

His shoulders slumped, and he looked shockingly defeated. "Man, not even a Serpent and you know who I am."

"Everyone on the Southside does," you replied apologetically.  You smiled softly and reached out to squeeze his hand briefly. "Don't worry—I won't hold it against you."

He laughed. "Thanks."

"So, do you happen to have any strong feelings about Thoreau?"

~~~~~

Over the course of the next week, you spent more and more time with Jughead.  While you initially bonded over your shared hatred of Thoreau's pretentiousness, you quickly realized that you had a lot more in common than just literary preferences.

"Of course you like Poe," you teased, doodling pictures of little birds in Jughead's notebook. "He's all dark and menacing.  Exactly the kind of drama you live for.  Hell, if Poe was writing today, I'd bet he'd go for the same melodrama as you."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, hate on me for liking the literary equivalent of an aggressively punk teen." Jughead rolled his eyes. "Better than liking Dickens.  That guy was paid by the word, you know."

"First, you are an aggressively punk teen.  I mean, look at you, dude.  You practically live for your aesthetic." You laughed. "Second, every one of those words was totally worth it.  Dickens is a master" You snapped his notebook shut. "Change of topic: I take it we're going to be partners for the unit project?"

"Depends, can we do it on Poe?" He smirked, his eyes brightening.

"It's about transcendentalism, Jug." You gave him a puzzled look. "Since when is Poe a transcendentalist?"

"Well, I'm sure as hell not doing it on Thoreau," he replied. "That would be too obvious, not to mention, way too painful."

"Tolstoy?"

He shrugged. "Sure.  Want to work on it tonight?"

"I'm down." You double-checked the calendar in your phone to make sure you weren't working. "Your place or mine?"

"How about yours," he drawled. "Mine's not exactly homework-friendly."

"Works for me."

~~~~~

"So, Y/N, coming to the Wyrm tonight?" Sweet Pea asked, joining you as you left school for the day.  He had pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and was twirling it absentmindedly as you walked.  You smiled—the habit was always a sure-fire sign that he was in a good mood.

"Sorry, Pea, can't tonight," you replied, shrugging apologetically. "I've got a project to work on."

"Oh." For a moment, he was silent as you walked into the parking lot together.  You didn't notice as he tucked the cigarette back in his pocket. "Need a ride home?"

"Nah, I'm good." You smiled at gestured at Jughead.  He was standing by his bike talking to Toni.  When he saw you, he smiled back.

"Jones?" Sweet Pea asked, his voice icy.

"Yeah." Your eyebrows rose as you looked at him. "What?  We're in English together, and the unit final is a group project."

Sweet Pea shoved his hands in his pockets and shook his head. "Nothing.  Will you be at the Quarry tomorrow?"

"Of course I will, Pea." You grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him in for a hug.  You were one of the few people who could get away with so much physical affection in public. "Love ya, skyscraper."

"Love ya too, ankle-biter."

Laughing, you turned to walk towards Jughead. "See you later, Pea."

~~~~~

"No way," you were laughing so hard you almost cried as Jughead told his story.  In addition to being a great writer, the guy could make anything funny. "I swear, the Northside is fucking nuts."

Jughead shook his head, still laughing softly. "A little."

After working on the project for an absurd amount of hours, the two of you moved to Pop's for a midnight snack.  By this point in the night, you were both done eating, but neither of you really wanted to leave.  You were having too much fun just hanging out, getting to know each other, and swapping funny stories.  

Behind Jughead, the bell on the door jingled, and you looked up to see Sweet Pea, Toni, and Fangs walk in.  

"Guys!" You called. "Over here!"

Grinning, Fangs led the way, leaping into the booth next to you.  "Y/N, glad to see you finally have a social life outside of Sweet Pea." He shouldered you playfully.

Rolling your eyes, you punched his arm. "Shut the fuck up, Fogarty."

Toni sat down next to Jughead, and Sweet Pea pulled up a chair at the end of the table.  Unlike his friends, he seemed unusually grumpy for a Friday night.

"So, Y/N, Jug, how'd the project go?" Toni asked, stealing one of the fries left in the basket between us.

"Awesome." You grinned. "We're definitely going to get an A."

"You know it." Jughead held his fist up, and you bumped it. "That teacher won't know what hit her."

Sweet Pea's jaw tightened.

"How was the Wyrm?" you asked.

"Fine." Toni shrugged. "Even though Pea seems to have some sort of massive stick up his ass tonight." She nudged him, laughing.

Sweet Pea forced a smile, but it looked a whole lot more like a grimace. "I think I'm just tired."

You gave your friend a concerned look.  He had been off after school, too.  If you were alone, you would have asked why, but you knew that he'd hate you for doing it in front of everyone.

Over the next hour or so, everyone trickled out of the diner except you and Sweet Pea.  Staying at Pop's that late was a bit of a tradition for the two of you.  As soon as you were old enough, you used to ride your bikes to the diner late at night.  You both had home lives that you'd rather escape sometimes.

Within minutes of everyone leaving, you jumped on your chance to talk to him alone. "So, skyscraper," you asked. "Care to tell me what's up tonight?"

"Not really." He leaned back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair. "It's not a big deal, Y/N."

You didn't buy it. "Fine.  Don't tell me.  Just know that now I totally think it's about me."

"Wait, wha—no." He leaned forward on the table to look at you. "It's not you."

"Then what is it, Sweet Pea?" You were starting to get really worried.

"It's just--" He cut off, looking around the diner like he wanted to make sure no one would overhear your conversation.  His brown eyes were clouded with worry, and he looked like he would rather jump out the window than finish the conversation.

"Just what?" You were about ready to punch him. "Pea, we've been friends forever.  What could possibly be going on that you can't tell me?" Your voice had risen to a somewhat desperate pitch.  

He took a deep breath, clenching his hands into fists on the surface of the table. "I don't like you hanging out with Jones so much."

"What?"

"I know, I know—I'm an asshole, and I have no right to dictate who you spend your time with.  I should have said something sooner, should have made a move before it was too late, should have told you this a long time ago, but no, I put myself in the goddamn friendzone for literal years--"

"Wait, what?" You cut him off, not sure you were hearing him clearly.  Was Sweet Pea, your best friend for as long as you could remember, admitting feelings for you? "What are you saying, Pea?"

"I really like you, Y/N." His shoulders slumped like the wind had just been knocked out of him. "And I've really liked you for a long-ass time.  I've never said it, though, because I didn't want to ruin our friendship.  It's too fucking late now, though."

Your eyes were wide, and you had no idea what to say.  Instead, you let your body take over.  Throwing caution to the wind, you nearly dove across the table to press your lips into his.  Sweet Pea reacted immediately, cupping your face and pulling you closer to him.  His lips gently parted your own, deepening the kiss.

You could feel the hard table pressing into your hips, and it took all the self-control you had not to just leap over into his lap.  Breathing deeply, you pulled back.

"Y/N, I—what?"

"I don't even know where to start, Pea."  Your breath was heavy and your cheeks flushed. "First of all, Jughead has a girlfriend who is certainly not me.  Second, I've liked you forever.  I just--" You cut off. "You and Fangs are always giving me so much crap about being single, and I guess I just assumed I was more like one of the guys than a potential girlfriend."

"Wow, I have fucked up." He let out a harsh laugh. "I'm such a moron, Y/N.  I always thought I never stood a chance with a girl as awesome as you." His voice softened. "I thought I'd just be lucky to be your friend, maybe marry you when we're thirty-five."

You laughed harder, reaching across the table to take his hand in yours. "Well, I'm definitely not in the market for a husband right now, but I wouldn't mind having a boyfriend." You smiled, meeting his warm gaze with your own. "What do you think?'

"I think I would be thrilled to be your boyfriend."

Smiling, you leaned back over the table and kissed him again, slowly and more deliberately. "Well then, consider yourself boyfriendzoned."

"Boyfriendzoned?"

"Hey, you're the one who agreed to date me." You grinned.

He rolled his eyes. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

~~~~~

Thanks for reading!  Check out my Masterlist for more!

Requests are open!

Operation Welcome Mat (preview)

I usually like to post a fic for my birthday, and well, this is a few days belated, but sometimes that’s how it goes. This is a preview of something I’m working on, now, and it’s a branching out of my usual fandom territory! I hope you’re curious, and I hope you enjoy!

It all stems from the question: Why does so much stuff that only Superman can deal with happen on the planet that Superman is on? That’s not the question that Lois Lane asks, but it’s the one she’s going to find an answer for.

Lois Lane always checks her spam folder. In fact, she always opens each individual message in there. Ninety-nine point nine nine nine percent of the time, what’s in there is garbage, but garbage is not synonymous with useless. Consider the journalists in Portland who went through the District Attorney’s garbage to make a point about privacy. Her daily ritual isn’t on that level of significance, but she feels the point still stands.

           Today, she opens an email that isn’t promising free trials of herbal supplements, contact info for hot singles in her area, or insurance policies that will cover damages caused by any and all anomalous events for as little as $10 a month. (These last annoyed her enough to ask Louise in Business to do a small expose on such companies—turns out, the fine print stated that given the regularity of attacks on Metropolis by aliens, robots, metahumans, etc., etc., these events could not be considered anomalous. Fucking scammers. She’s pretty sure they’re involved in a class-action lawsuit right now.)

           Instead, it reads thus:

           I am sending this to you because I think you are the only person in the world who might have adequate protection after I tell you this. It is for my safety and yours that I have not used your name or described what that protection might be.

           I ask you to use any and all resources you have at your disposal to investigate Operation Welcome Mat. I cannot tell you much more without compromising the slight chance this communication has of reaching you. However, I do not exaggerate when I say that the revealing—anything more I dare not hope for—of this operation will affect every human life on Earth.

           Sincerely,

                       One who works in the organization that knows you always check your spam folder

           The remaining message is a long and rambling series of testimonials for anti-aging and potency supplements, but Lois sees no reason to consider these as marks against the authenticity of the original message. Camouflage is important. As is covering one’s tracks. She opens her desk drawer and retrieves a high-quality digital camera that’s nevertheless old enough that it needs an actual physical cord to transfer the pictures on it to any computer. Lois has kept it in excellent condition, save for, oh, the pesky matter of the fact that the delete function doesn’t work on the camera itself, and that she just can never find the right kind of removable memory cards. Darn, what a problem! Fortunately the camera contains a 5000-image capacity non-removable internal memory. She takes a picture of the relevant portion of the email—well, ten pictures—and then sets about blocking every IP address that’s sent her something that ended up in her spam folder today and deleting every email indiscriminately. She’d like to perform a more thorough delete, but she never does that with any of her spam, and she’s got a feeling that now would not be a good day to start.

           Amateurs might worry about how she deleted the original email, but Lois knows that if she finds anything, she won’t need that email, and for another thing, the writer of that email most certainly doesn’t want anyone to be able to analyze their word choices and phrasing.

           She rests her arms on her desk and starts letting her mind work through everything the email told her. So, she’s the only person who “might have adequate protection” after learning about Operation Welcome Mat? The only unique protection she’s had under any circumstances is Superman. In a few well-known incidents, he’d appeared to give preference to getting her to safety before others. Lois isn’t one hundred percent sure that’s true, as she knows very well that she might’ve been the person in the greatest danger during each incident. Over her career, she’s tended to disregard danger for the sake of the story. And she can argue persuasively that in order to be a successful female journalist, she has to be prepared to face a certain amount of danger; she can argue that her years of experience have given her the ability to accurately evaluate the potential danger of a situation. These arguments have been, and are, vital to her public persona.

           But under a few layers of “I have to do this” is the chewy center of “I want to do this.” It’s true! Believe it or not, Lois Lane, Pulitzer Prize-winning investigative journalist, is a bit of a thrill-seeker!

           Good thing that might be exactly what her email contact needs.

           So. Back to the email. Back to Superman. She knows well enough that she doesn’t have a raven-haired alien angel at her beck and call, but, based on what the public has seen, is it more likely that she does than any other investigative journalist? Yes. So, if only Superman can offer her adequate protection, then—

           “Hi Lois,” Clark says, setting a paper cup on her desk. “Two sugars, no milk—” He breaks off into an almost cartoonishly exaggerated yawn that Lois nevertheless is familiar enough with to know is genuine.

           “You ought to buy some coffee for yourself,” Lois says, digging a few dollars out of her wallet and tossing them at him, which he barely catches. “I mean, if you’re going to volunteer to walk down to Reeve’s every day, anyway. And didn’t you grow up waking up at 4am to milk cows or whatever?”

           Clark smiles shyly. Like he always does. It’s a good smile, and on a kid who’s six foot three and probably better built than any of the barns he ever helped raise, it could very well explain why he always seems so exhausted in the morning. Though if Lois’ theory is true, she hasn’t seen or heard any other evidence of it. A gentleman never tells, Lois thinks idly.

           “I can and have milked cows in my sleep,” he says. “I can’t do anything in my sleep, here.” He looks down. “Uh, the truth is that I haven’t been sleeping well since the—what did they call it? The Chirauga Incident?”

           Lois grimaces. Yeah, Clark and half of Metropolis. Including her. When an army of aliens that big showed up all at once, there was no way to avoid some level of freaking out, special protection from Superman or not. “Yeah, the Chirauga Incident. Ugly sons of bitches, in my opinion. I killed one personally, you know.”

           Clark’s eyes widen in shock, and Lois grins. “What? I verified they weren’t bulletproof before going out to start, you know, researching my story.” But, because she is committed to the truth, even though Clark seems like he’ll believe anything she says, she has to add, “Well, okay. I’m pretty sure I mortally wounded it. Superman took care of it before I could find out for sure.” It had been clean. Heat vision through the Chirauga equivalent of the spinal cord. And Superman had turned to her with that red glow still shimmering in the back of his eyes. “Are you all right?” he’d asked, hovering a foot above the ground like it was nothing, looking at her like she was something. And she’d looked into the terrible weapon of his gaze and been stunned by the perfect surety that he’d never use it on a human being.

           And for all that, she’d never seen him look so alien.

           “Weren’t you watching? I had this one handled,” she’d said, with a rasp in her voice she hoped he’d attribute to the heavy dust and smoke in the air.

           “Well, in that case, I guess all I can do now is tell you to be careful out there,” he’d said.

           It would be nice if there was a discreet little jump cut in her memory right after that, but, unfortunately, Lois remembers with perfect clarity that she’d responded, “Sure thing, spaceboy,” like a complete and utter dumbass. But then Superman hadn’t laughed at her, no, he’d given her the smile and wink of an old-fashioned movie star before flying away to continue saving the world. She, on the other hand, had staggered off, feeling as emotionally churned-up as a teenager.

           The worst part about it, in her opinion, is that she knows very well that Superman has this effect on almost everyone who encounters him.

           “Ah, Superman,” Clark says, drawing her back to the present. His shocked expression has been replaced by the little smile she’s often seen him wear when talk of Superman comes up. She’s always thought there was something secretive about that smile, something notably different from the rest of his farm-boy guilelessness. (Though, she doesn’t quite believe he’s as transparent as he otherwise appears. And she doesn’t think that’s just her natural suspicion kicking in. For one thing, the Daily Planet is big, but not big enough that someone who was hired as a journalist could fall through the cracks and become nothing but a friendly coffee boy. She’s read some of his articles, the neighborhood news stuff he generally covers, and the writing is as solid as he is, with words chosen with care and sensitivity. There’s more to him than meets the eye, and if he ever decides to get ambitious, Lifestyle is in for a big surprise. For another thing, he’d moved to Metropolis during a metahuman surge, and that, frankly, was not what normies did, no matter how clueless they were.)

           The running undercurrent of what she knows about Clark and the smile that’s the one noticeable discordant note in the melody of the person she works with suddenly gel into a possible conclusion, one that Lois could’ve kicked herself for not even considering earlier.

           Talented kid moves from small-town Kansas, where he could’ve been a big fish in a tiny pond. And he doesn’t even move to a city in the same state or region, where he could have been a big fish in a medium-sized pond. Instead, he moves to Metropolis, where he won’t be a big fish at all, but where it’ll be a big project for anyone who knew him in Smallville to ever visit, or know anything about him he doesn’t want them to know. Metropolis, which, despite its dangers, still lives in the cultural mind as a place where the good kind of anything can happen. (Where Superman is often seen.) And when he’s here, he never, ever says anything about even going on a date with anyone, and mentions of Superman bring out that secretive smile. And he started off writing his articles with a clear awareness of issues that Lois has seen other straight white male coworkers fail to grok even after clear, baby-step-style explanations. And he’s never, ever tried to turn getting her coffee into something uncomfortable.

           So, possible conclusion: Clark is some flavor of queer, and still closeted/uncomfortable about it. But he can’t completely hide his crush on Superman because, well. Superman. And the kid has an honest face.

           Just goes to show, she thinks, how slow and unreliable gaydar can be, even if you are bi.

           But this does give her an idea on where to send him as she starts her initial investigation of this Project Welcome Mat. If it is big, bad business like it seems, Clark doesn’t need to get mixed up in it, even to the point of overhearing a phone call. And besides, it might help him accept himself, if he needs that.

           “You know what, Clark?” Lois says. “You need something to take your mind off shit like alien invasions.”

           Clark grimaces. “I don’t know if anything can.”

           “Yeah, it’s a toughie, but you’re a Metropolitan now,” Lois says, with more bravado than she feels. Some things you don’t get used to. But some of those things you have to at least pretend to get used to. “Get outside. Write your cat-up-a-tree article tomorrow. Do something completely out of the ordinary.” And then, as if she’s just thought of it, “Powtown Pride is going on today. Powtown’s a neighborhood. Pride’s something to write about. You could go there and see what you can see.”

           “Powtown?” Clark says, raising his eyebrows. “That’s the metahuman neighborhood. That’s…a bit more interesting than where Rowlands usually sends me.”

           Lois waves her hand. “Rita is seventy-eight and still thinks anything involving a metahuman is a front-pager. Perry can tell her otherwise when you bring back something nice.”

           “Well,” Clark says, warming to the idea, “there are a lot of misconceptions about Powtown that ought to be worn away by a reliable source like the Planet. I mean—there probably are. I don’t know, personally. But if everything written about Powtown was true, no one could live there. It’d be a smoking crater in the ground.”

           “So you see? Needs you,” Lois says. She smirks. “Be careful, though. They’ve got twinks down there that could rip you in half.”

           “Says someone who just told me about personally shooting a Chirauga,” Clark says. “No, no, I know—you had it handled. Anyway. Yeah, I will go.” He looks towards the windows and sighs. “After all, it’s a beautiful day to be outside.”

           Lois waves at him as he leaves, then glances towards the windows herself. It really is a beautiful June day, not too hot, vivid blue sky, puffy clouds slowly drifting by. Does Superman prefer days like this for flying? She wonders. Or would it not affect him at all? What would it be like to fly with Superman on a day like today—Lois sticks her tongue out in an exaggerated expression of disgust. She’s better than that! She has to be!

           Anyway, she’s got something new to investigate. Before Clark interrupted, she was thinking of what things out in the world only Superman could be adequate protection from. Well, aside from horrible things from space, that leaves a very short list that prominently features a house of a certain color and a building of a certain shape. And the name—Operation Welcome Mat—it has a very particular ring to it.

           But she’s still going to look into the rest of that short list. A direct assault isn’t the correct approach here, and besides, there might be connections, even if the person she’s going to call is officially blacklisted from government contracts.

           She scrolls to the contact in her phone for “Louis L’Amour,” and reaches out to someone who definitely isn’t a dead writer of Westerns.

Notes: I’ve decided to have Superman’s code against killing be specifically about humans/earthlings because for one thing, I don’t have to answer to Standards and Practices, and for another, I don’t feel like having every alien army be robots (which with sufficiently advanced AI doesn’t help anyway), and what do you want me to do, have Superman knock all the aliens out? If they’re going down long enough to be essentially counted out of the fight, they’re getting life-threatening brain injuries anyway. 

my aj characters

buckle in pardners cause this is gonna be a looong ride

ya this is gonna be a really long post lol

i finally got a membership!!!!!! so i can make a post with all my characters!!!! which ive been wanting to do for AGES

i’ll put my Main Kids here and then put a read more for those who are interested!

so get ready folks because this is like a big dysfunctional family

MAIN KIDS

Meadow

the “main” boi, the face of the whole group

usually manages stuff like den stores and trading

genderfluid, will go by any pronouns

pansexual

very friendly and sociable! he’s the one you see and think “i should talk to them”

lives in peck’s den, but needs to redecorate it

he loves his bedroom, even if desert went a little crazy decorating it...

this is his pet, Mumbleimus:

he’s a star and he knows it

will probably strike a pose for u

gender roles whomst? he only knows fashion

occasionally makes bad puns

Desert

secret mira fanboy

kind of edgy

tries to act mean or secluded but he’s not really that mean

he/him but he isn’t totally a binary dude

his sexuality is a mystery to everybody, even himself

his bird tendencies are. through the roof. he is just. so very bird.

wants to become a therapist stationed in the basement of secrets

lives in peck’s den or the treehouse

he......... lov his bed................

this is his pet, Musicalfrost!

desert’s PRIDE AND JOY, he would kill for this little gal

punk rock

might try and attack you

mischievous

Atom

me, but cooler

Hip With the Kids™

they/them

bisexual

starts celebrating halloween in august

probably a demon

cryptid and space enthusiast

lives in any of the dens, but most primarily peck’s den and the enchanted hollow

what a nerd.

this is their pet, Oddpebble!

a little fucking rascal

very good at percussion (he has many hands)

definitely a demon

lovable weirdo

Magical

THE OG!!!

very first animal, ever

literally just me

he/they

pansexual

has anxiety issues

tries very hard

huge nerd

lives with greencloud in the default den, but is putting together another den to move into

one of the nonmember kiddos

goes on the land missions/adventures

they really like plants

this is his pet, Windowbee!

kind of creepy but aesthetically pleasing

a lot like onion from steven universe

those feathers he’s holding are what remains of his enemies

Magical loves him

that’s all the main kiddos! the rest are under the cut!

PRIMARY KIDS

Greencloud

was going to be a tertiary, but he complained so much he became a primary

the cooler Magical

probably cooler than you

also hip with the kids

unmedicated ADHD

he/they

bisexual

kind of annoying

acts like he isnt trying, but he really is

lives in the default den

this is his pet, Silverysky!

quiet, tiny punk

kind of shy

is actually pretty cool when you get to know him

Soft™

likes metal and screamo

Bean

kind of freaked out by all the other animals

lives in the default den, but is rarely ever seen there

quiet

always weirded out but tries to go along

he/they

heterosexual (or... attracted to women?? idk) aromantic

the other nonmember kiddo

never talks to anybody

this is his pet, Misscrystal!

the mom friend

all of the animals adore her

she loves u

Pear

a REAL PIRATE!!

goes on the water missions/adventures

adventurous

he/him

heterosexual

YARR

isnt lgbt but is a very enthusiastic ally

lowkey a softie

lives in either the treehouse, the lost ruins den, or the sky kingdom

this is his land pet, Microbook!

he’s very old and kind of kooky

has embraced the pirate aesthetic

wants to be a pirate just like his dad

gets very excited about adventures

loves adventuring w Pear

this is his ocean pet, Summershell!

he loves her to death

isn’t necessarily fond of the pirate aesthetic but doesn’t mind it

she especially loves when Pear gets excited about dressing her like a pirate and coos over her

loves attention

was the product of a crappy trade but Pear didn’t want to get rid of her

not as enthusiastic about being a pirate

Apple

an absolute ray of sunshine

very carefree and friendly

there’s a running gag between the animals about Apple and Pear being a duo called “the fruit bowl”

doesn’t talk very much but will make sure u know he loves u

he/they

asexual aromantic

lives in the lost ruins den, but they really need to decorate it

this is their pet, Uberimus!

he’s pretty spooky but actually very friendly

needs more friends. he scared all his old ones off

quiet

just wants to be loved

gets lots of cuddles from Apple

gentle

Rainy

avid australian

very adventurous

tomboy aesthetic

loves all the freaky animals out there. the more exotic, the better

wants one of those shows where they go to australia and do a lot of dangerous stuff with the wildlife

“that over there is the most venomous animal in the world!...”

“...I’m gonna poke it with a stick.”

she/they (usually they)

homosexual

lives in the treehouse

the only time they’d be seen without their aviator’s hat is if they were dead

Desert got to decorate the bedroom, and, uh... yeah.

this is her pet, Macroimus!

she would kill for this “dapper little fellow”

used to have a top hat and monocle

recently went into an anime phase

loves adventures

Rosy

loves pink

has a very masculine build that he is very happy with

loves flowers and cute things and everything girly

lives in peck’s den

he/him

sexuality? who has time for that? i only have time for fashion.

probably asexual homoromantic (but he’s never really looked into it)

total fashionista

fuck gender roles

luxury.

this is his pet, Toyturtle! (sorry for the bad picture oops)

very pampered

the sweetest little turtle

loves her little beetle friend

friendly but a little airheaded

Lilac

is an artist

a nervous nerd

likes anime

she/her

grey asexual panromantic

lives in the enchanted hollow

shy, but once you get to know her she never shuts up

this is her pet, Sircrystal!

narcissistic

very much like King George’s depiction from Hamilton the musical

probably plotting your murder

he is the best. everybody else in inferior.

thinks he’s an actual king, higher then the alphas

“i’ll kill your friends and family to remind you of my love”

possessive

materialist

Lilac is kind of terrified of him but she still loves him

Sunny

obsessed with nature

an actual child

impulsive

has to be closely monitored or else she’ll probably make stupid decisions

ridiculously friendly

a mildly annoying ray of sunshine

she/her

she’s a literal child she doesn’t know romance

the equivalent of like an 8 year old

lives in the mushroom hut with her brother (she needs to decorate it though!!)

this is her pet, Gummyturtle!

can kick ass

kind of like a tiny bodyguard for Sunny

loves being dressed up

essentially teaches Sunny how to take care of her and properly treat pets, since Sunny does behave much like a child

kawaii as fuck

big,, floppy ears,,,,,,,,

likes spicy food

from Japan

DJ Kawaiimoon

demands you call him by his full name while staring him in the eye

tsundere type

grumpy

secretly soft

likes screamo bands

he/him

bisexual but still figuring it out

the equivalent of 13 years old

Sunny’s brother

lives in the mushroom hut

relatively quiet, but usually complaining if he’s talking

this is his pet, Jellyninja!

DJ Kawaiimoon LOVES him

is like the only person DJ Kawaiimoon is nice to

friendly and boyish

really likes sweets

TERTIARY KIDS

Juniper

still figuring out what the hell her look is supposed to be

frenemies with Lilac

the bad kind of weaboo

pretty problematic

probably posts edgy things in hopes of getting attention

probably fetishizes “yaoi” (ew)

she/her

calls herself bisexual to look “cool” but is actually straight

lives in the enchanted hollow

this is her pet, Snowytitan!

smol

love-hate relationship with Juniper

quiet

absolutely loves everybody (except Juniper sometimes)

if you feed him he’ll keep you in his heart until he dies

quiet

River

is a witch

very very creepy

takes the hyena laughter trope to heart

freaks everybody out

not as mean or scary as everybody thinks she is

they’ll still hex your ass if you wrong them though

she/they

demisexual aromantic

lives in the sky kingdom

not many of the other animals understand her; only really Mellow, Atom, and Magical

this is her pet, Puppyfrost!

also very creepy

spooks everybody

probably posessed

River’s loyal assistant

quiet

can receive prophecies and communicate with spirits

Mellow

blind

mute

just trying to get by

nonchalant and just sort of accepts all the weird shit that happens with the group

mildly edgy

he/him

bisexual demiromantic (has a preference for dudes)

lives in the volcano den

gets along with Bean

sometimes helps River with their magic

this is his pet, Mirrorfrost!

he adores her

sometimes mischievous

quiet and very intelligent

from China

DJ

is a dj

“yooooo that’s radical dude!”

surfer dude personality

very leisurely and kind of lazy

he/him

bisexual, but the type of person you wouldn’t expect to be lgbt

lives in the volcano den and needs to decorate it

very friendly

this is his pet, Zippynote!

DJ thinks he’s such a weird little fellow

and he is

very quiet

kind of just there?

relatively friendly

Quill

moved from India

think’s he’s the “chosen one” picked by Zios to defend Jamaa

wants to be part of “the fruit bowl”

self-proclaimed air-bender

he/him

heterosexual

lives in the sky kingdom

doesn’t really know anybody

heavy accent

this is his pet, Starrymantis!

he ADORES her. he thinks she is the absolute most adorable thing

he still needs to dress her up though

very sweet and friendly

loves cuddles

Mister Wonkybuddy

literally just. a dad. he is dad

he/him

heterosexual

lives in the volcano den to “keep track of those rascal teenagers”

really likes mythologies

used to be an adventurer and even got to meet sir gilbert

this is his pet, Gummypeach!

quiet and kind of creepy

it’s probably just because of his outfit though

Mister dressed him up when he was really absorbed in a book on Egyptian mythology

loves his dad and Mister loves him

Peach

the newest member to the family!

like, she is BRAND SPANKIN NEW. she doesn’t even have a pet

soft pastel nature aesthetic

clumsy due to her masculine frame

socially awkward

autistic

she/her

heterosexual (shes been experimenting with girls though)

lives in the treehouse

WHEW THATS ALL OF THEM!!!

i really hope you love my kids as much as i do!!!! if you like them please reblog them!! i’ve put so much energy into these kiddos. my children. i love them

if you’ve made it this far, holy shit thanks this took me a really long time to put together

bye!!

BDRPWRIMO: A mock application- disclaimer that I did this as an exercise for my OC story aha but it’s still connected enough to Swynlake so!! 

OPAL ACHERON;; 

ABOUT THE CHARACTER; NAME: Opal FACE CLAIM: Mackenzie Foy PRONOUNS: She/her AGE: 18! SEXUALITY: Straight-ish. True Generation Z Straight, aka she mostly likes boys but won’t rule out ever liking a girl lmao sexuality is fluid JOB/SCHOOL: Pride U—Theatre! Scriptwriting at this moment. RESIDENCE: Belle’s house! WHY YOU’RE APPLYING FOR THIS CHARACTER (5 SENTENCES MINIMUM):

I’m just gonna use this space to talk about why I love Opal. She’s such a bright, upbeat, artistic character who has lots of dimensions to her. She’s driven first and foremost by an intense love and delight for life—for making each day unique and figuring out how to express herself or “make her mark.” She’s had a happy childhood with parents who love each other and are very passionate themselves, and that passion rubbed off on her and onto everything she touches and does. Because she was taught early on to never give up and to tackle problems head on (very Hades and Belle truly), she isn’t a pessimist or a cynic. She wants to find solutions to her problems. She wants to succeed and triumph. And so when her illness strikes, it never really occurs to her to be depressed about it. I mean, sure, that’s part denial right there but it also speaks to the iron of her will. She’s resilient and why wouldn’t she be? She grew up in Swynlake.

WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR CHARACTER CAN ADD TO SWYNLAKE (5 sentences minimum): She is the kind of girl to get into trouble and bring people along with her! She hears about something mysterious in the forest? Absolutely she wants to check that out. Student body elections? You betcha Opal wants to run. She’s more of a ‘leader’ than a follower, though at the same time, I think she operates in this middle space between “mom friend” and like, I dunno, cool aunt friend—like, part of Opal getting into trouble will be on behalf of some of her closest friends sometimes. (If you’re thinking to yourself, is Opal a Gryffindor??? I don’t know. I’m between Raven v Gryff v a very friendly Slytherin because I think she gets attached to persons over groups but I’ll let u know where she lands lmao.)

LIST THREE GOALS THAT YOU WANT TO ACCOMPLISH WITH  THIS CHARACTER/THAT THIS CHARACTER WANTS TO ACCOMPLISH:

None of these are gonna make sense to you guys here we go— 1. Come to terms with her chronic illness—her ghostliness is sort of a metaphor for this. Opal desperately wants to be normal but she isn’t normal. She needs to accept she has certain limitations…but those limitations don’t have to necessarily LIMIT her “life” experience. 2. Have a YA-worthy romance probably—Opal is definitely too romantic for her own good, while simultaneously being pretty sensible about it and probably a little persnickety. She’s definitely had boyfriends in the past, but does fear true commitment in a way because of how much she values independence and doing things her way. She’s like her mum in that sense ahah. And I’d love for her to really learn how to be in a relationship. 3. Hijinks with her brothers related to “fixing” her condition—which maybe culminates in a visit to the underworld?! Mostly because I need a fucking plot for this thing. But it would be funny if Hades is still Lord of the Underworld and this is like the equivalent of going out to a 21+ strip club or something lmfao.

WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER’S VIEW ON MAGIC? (3 SENTENCES MINIMUM):

Opal grew up around magic so naturally she loves it. She also depends on magic to make her life livable. While magic is vilified by others, magic lifts up Opal’s own life—and so she sees lots of good with it and is a true magic advocate. She also realizes she’s in a really unique position (like a lot of white upper-class kids with a chronic illness) in that the nature of her family’s magic means she GETS the care she needs, even if that care is through magic. BIOGRAPHY (300 WORDS MINIMUM, 3RD PERSON):

Opal Acheron is not dead yet. Opal Acheron is a lot of things besides dead (ish.) She is the daughter of Belle Acheron, a very successful Magick Rights Lawyer, and Hades, the ambassador to the Underworld. She’s an artist. She’s an actress. She’s a big sister who takes that job very seriously, even when her twin brothers annoy her. She’s a wicked horse rider and she also plays a mean game of chess, taught by the Lord of the Dead himself. And when she was just 12 years old, she scripted her first petition with the help of her mother, advocating for an Undead Appreciation Day. She is a Swynlake Native and it’s in her very blood. She wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. And yes. She’s just a touch dead. Soon after Opal’s eighteenth birthday, she developed a very inconvenient heart tumor that would certainly lead to her untimely end. But her father intervened before her soul could pass through the veil. He bargained with the Fates—Opal would live frozen in time, a ghost during the day, and a girl at night, for as long as she wanted…or at least, until the Acherons found some kind of solution, magic or medical, that might give Opal more time. Now, Opal has to learn a different way of living, a life between things, and just in time for her first semester of university. But Opal considers herself a very optimistic girl, even if she’s a ghost one. She’s determined not to let her condition get in the way of her dreams. Why should she— Opal Acheron is not dead yet.

ROLEPLAYING SAMPLE (500 WORDS MINIMUM, 3RD PERSON): 

Opal sees a cute boy.

He sits in the back of Hatter’s café, trousers the colour of mustard and rolled up so she can see his ankles. She likes his ankles best of all, or at least, she likes them best from where she stands next to her brother who is waiting for his peppermint mocha. She wants to get closer to decide about those ankles. And whether or not those glasses he wears—the thick, clear plastic kind—are real or just a fashion statement, and what she thinks about that, too. Either way, she knows he is cute enough to ask.

Unfortunately, she’s a ghost, which makes these things slightly more complicated.

If she were still alive, Opal would not hesitate to go over and introduce herself. If she were alive, she’d already have made eye contact with him across the room-- like in her favorite classic movies, with women in splendid pin-up skirts and perfect curls, who flirted over the tops of books, speaking whole poems with a flutter of their eyelashes. If she were alive, maybe she’d even entice the skinny-ankled stranger to buy her a coffee too. But because she is not alive, she should turn away and mind her business-- her flirting days behind her now.

But that sounds terrible. So instead, she informs her brother, who is a medium: “Bell, I see a cute boy.”

Bellamy is reading and not paying attention to cute boys. He doesn’t look up from Frank Herbert’s Dune, only turns a page and says, “Good for you.”

She presses her lips together. “Bell, you’re not even looking. I need you to go over and talk to him for me.”

“No thank you.”

“That wasn’t a request.”

 “Ah, well, then you should say please.”

 “I said it wasn’t a request.” Opal stares owlishly at her brother, who has officially started ignoring her, as though she is little more than a gnat buzzing around his ear. Well, she can buzz much louder if she really wants to. Opal has no qualms about being an annoying older sister. In her opinion, being annoying is in the job description of an Older Sister, and especially an Older Sister Who Is Also A Ghost.

And so she reaches out with those ghosty hands of hers and levitates Dune right out of Bell’s hands. A few eyes in the queue slide their way and follow the book as it floats above her brother’s head. Bell stares at his hands still, like nothing happened.

“This is rude,” states Bell with his eyes on his empty hands.

She wiggles the book in the air, pages fluttering. “Please,” she says.

He finally looks up and regards her with a blank face. “You’re so immature.”

“I’m a ghost—emotionally stunted by nature,” says Opal. “Now, please, talk to Cute Boy for me.”

PLEASE ANSWER THE FOLLOWING ABOUT THE CHARACTER (MINIMUM OF THREE WITH 2-3 SENTENCE EXPLANATIONS): FAVORITE (OR LEAST FAVORITE)… COLOR(S): “It’s not fair to the other colors to have a favorite.” WEATHER: She loves thunderstorms. They’re so dramatic and she likes to pretend to be scared or like it’s gonna blow the house down. MUSIC: Musicals of course! Lots of classics and old jazz singers. She does like pop music too but only a tune here and there. MOVIE(S): oh OLDIES again! Musicals! Black and white classics! Got really into silent films at one point. She also loves old historical dramas and she wants to start in an Austen revival. Loves Shakespeare theatre. Sexual awakening when she saw DiCaprio in Romeo + Juliet SCENT(S): Um…flowers. Understated scents, probably doesn’t wear perfume unless for special occasions. BEVERAGE: is she an ice coffee bitch—Yes also flavored lattes and herbal teas. FOOD(S): vegetarian :3 She really loves coconut in things. Her favorite meal is probably like a vegetarian coconut curry or something—kinda sweet n spicy at the same time. She loves Indian food for that kinda reason too. Oh and vegetarian sushi like with avocado and mango and stuff. ANIMAL(S): Horses! Belle would have Opal start riding as soon as she can walk (despite Hades probably being overprotective.) Opal would be a true blue horse girl. She’d read all the horse books and goes to feed Philippe with her mum and probably wants her very own horse too! Horses are the best! 100 percent horses! Also, the humble caterpillar. OR 3 HEADCANONS (3 sentence mimimum): -Opal has one of those weird girly phobias about cutting her hair. She only ever trims it and she loves it as long as it can go. She also taught herself how to do extravagant braids and updos—definitely self-taught when it comes to that and also make-up, all through Youtube tutorials, since Belle isn’t exactly savvy herself. (I bet she’s done Belle’s hair tho isn’t that cute.) - Despite absolutely loving to dress up, her day to day look is pretty practical. She likes boots because they can be cute but she can still go trudging through Enchantra and they don’t get too uncomfortable.

Skam Austin episode 4 reaction

part of me is laughing at the number of people in the Facebook comments asking, “Is this on Netflix?”

Episode 4

Clip 1 - Sad couch crew

I felt Tyler and Shay were being friendly to Megan here, not snide, at least on a superficial level. Though I guess you can take their excitement about the concert as passive-aggressiveness.

Tyler mentioning the Illuminati - how very Isak. TBH I really hope Julie is making both Shay and Tyler gay, since they’re dividing up the Isak moments between the two. I’m fine if Tyler doesn’t get the big season-long arc and it goes to Shay instead, I’d love to see her get it. But it’s just going to leave such a bad taste if they’ve made Isak into a wlw with no equivalent to the gay male representation that already existed, when there are many supposedly straight female characters who could be have been made into wlw. Especially the Vilde equivalent, who you could easily give a story about discovering and accepting her sexuality, or the Chris character, who didn’t have her own season and really didn’t have any substantial character issues suggested on the level of Vilde’s home life, and would benefit from a meaty arc. 

I love Shay, she’s definitely one of the highlights of the show, I’m just tired of all the fighting over whether it’s better for S3 to focus on a gay boy or a lesbian and seeing a lot of gross shit in the discussions that’s either minimizing the importance of an f/f storyline because homophobia is worse for men in Texas/lesbians don’t have it that bad/lesbians are already represented on TV because they’re accepted by straight men who find them sexy/someone doesn’t care about lesbians and will only accept Evak 2.0, or minimizing the importance of Evak/another m/m storyline because Skam and the other remakes already have gay ships so don’t get greedy/gay men are already accepted because look at all the m/m on Tumblr and AO3/people only want another Evak because they’re disgusting fetishizers. It’s fucked up how most of these talk relies on the assumption that there can be only one LGBT story on Skam at a time and not pushing back on why it goes without question that S1 and a hypothetical S2 about Grace/Daniel can both be about heterosexual relationships. 

Not to be one of those obnoxious people referencing YA novels in response to real life situations, but it makes me think of Katniss at the climax of Catching Fire when her group of Tributes is fighting the Career Tributes and she fires at the force field instead. Remember who the real enemy is. 

That’s a joke, don’t take that too seriously.

Anyway I’m tired. 

Considering how shitty he’s been acting previously, Tyler not laughing at Marlon’s comments and just deliberately eating a potato chip is a step up for him.

Speaking of the chips, they disappear in between shots and I guess Tyler could be putting the bag on the floor between takes or something but it looks like a regular old continuity error.

Marlon is a mega dick and I dislike him but I kinda can’t believe that I agreed with him about the team’s social standings vs. their practice time. But it was Marlon who said it so it sounded like a dick move.

See, he’s been such a dick that it’s hard to feel sorry for him! But also he’s in the right to feel hurt about the concert.

I don't have much to say except he is the least convincing person to be talking about how he’s not upset and he doesn’t care. He’s so obviously pissed.

There’s just not a shred of chemistry between these two. I don’t get why they’re together, I don’t get what they like about each other, they barely seem to have much fun together. There isn’t much of a rapport.

Pointless personal anecdote #1: When this clip came out, I watched it on my phone at a graduation party, and I'm not kidding, in the few minutes while I was watching some middle-aged parents started talking about wanting to move to Texas when they retire, and they named cities and singled out Austin as a bad choice because “it’s been overtaken by liberals,” lmao. There was no way they could have realized I was watching a show set in Austin. The stars just aligned.

Clip 2 - Kelsey, no

Grace is really concerned about Kelsey sleeping with Daniel so soon, probably because what happened in her own past messed her up.

“Ever since I was a little girl watching the Super Bowl, I knew I was going to lose my virginity to a football player.” .... when I was a little girl watching the Super Bowl I only cared about seeing the commercials with the pretty horses.

“It was like he was going down on me, but in my mouth” … oh my God … someone SAVE this child.

Kelsey, you don’t even know what anyone going down on you in the “correct” place feels like, and this just makes you sound like inexperienced and Not Ready . And I’m glad Meg and Grace are suitably horrified.

Oh, they actually mentioned the issue of insurance, that’s good. But she looked a little uncomfortable with the topic of insurance, so if she has a similar financial situation to Vilde, insurance might be an issue? Or, as was hinted later via texts, she might have a super religious or conservative mom who would not take her to the doctor. She might be able to go to Planned Parenthood for birth control except I’m not sure if minors can get prescriptions for the pill without parental consent because well, Texas.

I checked out of curiosity and it looks like the only type of birth control you can get at PP without parental consent are condoms and lol, Grace already had that covered.

“You know you should use a condom, right?” “What if he doesn’t want to use a condom?” “Then you know you shouldn’t have sex with him.” YES. JESUS. Thank you Grace.

“I talked to Jo this weekend and I prayed about it last night” Oh come on, they’re going to have her mention praying about Zoya’s participation on the team and then not even address the sex-religion topic? Okay. Kelsey doesn’t even have to be abstinent or opposed to premarital sex, not all Christians are, I feel like it just makes sense for someone to be like, “Isn’t having sex before marriage against your religion?” And if Kelsey objected to the question on the grounds that they’re making assumptions about her religion, they could always come back at her with “Well, you assumed Muslims couldn’t dance.”

Kudos to Grace for talking sense about the Zoya situation and being very calm and careful about the Daniel thing.

Clip 3 - Backseat

The editing at the start of the clip made me think the mom might be talking to Megan at first but no, the mom is on her phone. Mom’s communication skills weren’t so great in this clip.

The dialogue is pretty on the nose and super specific to the theeeeeeme, with the mom putting all this implied pressure on Megan, but the passive aggressiveness about Megan’s dad is sadly accurate to how certain married-with-kids dynamics are, with the parents always at each other’s throats and dismissive of each other and not caring about how the kids react to these constant fighting. 

I saw some people wondering why Megan was sitting in the backseat and honestly, that didn’t seem too weird to me. It’s not typical but I’ve ridden in the backseat even when I was the only passenger before (usually because sometimes riding in the front seat makes me sick)  but I could see like, a moody teenager wanting to text her boyfriend and not wanting her mom to glance over at her phone. Although the simplest explanation is that Julie wants to hide the parents’ faces.

I didn’t even notice the giant concert posters at first, I was focused on the homeless man. I am assuming he was there to remind us of the stakes to succeed in this world if you’re much of a “dreamer” as Meg’s mom puts it, where if you don’t get a good job that can be you living on the streets, and to get a good job you need to get a degree from a good school, and to get a degree from a good school you need to perform well in high school, and if you make one mistake you are ruined, RUINED forever. 

Meg trying to ask her mom for relationship advice and instead getting reminded that her parents have a shit relationship, lovely. 

The difference in the tone between the coworker call and the dad call is very telling. Right off the bat, when the dad calls, the mom has a pissed-off attitude. They’re at the stage where they fight just to fight.

Also, note the guilt trip caused by the mom yelling at the dad for not remembering she was going to her friend’s (and like, who cares, I mean this might be part of a larger problem but this sounds like the pettiest shit to argue about) and saying people show they appreciate and support each other by listening and taking interest in their loves, when that’s exactly what Megan didn’t do (skipping Marlon’s show that he was so hyped for) and that’s how she feels she can make it up to him (by buying tickets to the concert he had mentioned).

And the mom says people show they care by listening when she doesn’t even listen to her own daughter and interrupts her when she’s trying to ask a question, and she’s definitely not paying attention to Megan’s life. Like, how is it that they can miss that she’s not on the dance team? Surely the team has some performances or competitions that they’d attend? Fundraisers? I can see them not attending all of Megan’s dance performances, but any of them? 

Megan’s mom is a piece of work, though I’m sure the dad plays his part in the dysfunction too, I don’t want to put it all on the mother.

Clip 4 - Straw

Franz Ferdinand???

Not that this is the point but I’m intrigued by this locker setup. But I am from a place with cold cold winters so the idea of having one of these lockers in January seems terrible.

I was curious if Kendrick Lamar was actually supposed to perform in Austin on Friday, so I checked it out, and lo and behold, it was a real concert. Good job, Skam Austin.

It kinda just makes me sad that THIS is how Meg gets Marlon’s attention again, by buying (probably) expensive concert tickets.

“you two are smashing in that bathroom by the nurse’s office” at least you’re nearby if you need offbeat advice and some condoms? Oh wait, this is Texas. Never mind the last one.

This is my chance to talk about how gross I find the word “smash” in any sexual context. It just sounds uncomfortable and makes me think of potatoes.

Shoutout to Tyler’s Prince shirt, certainly a unique wardrobe choice.

Man, Kelsey is just such an easy target. Especially with the way she talks, like-like-like … blood in the water. Tyler and Shay are not here for Kelsey and Jo right off the bat and once Kelsey opens her mouth, it’s doom.

At least Kelsey had the sense to keep Zoya on the team list even if it was for self-serving reasons.

I applaud these actresses for effort, but every version of the iconic spoon scene has felt forced compared to the original. Josefina, my darling, if you’re going to be seductive with your straw, you might wanna purse your lips instead of letting it roll around in and out of your mouth.

I think it’s great that Jo and Tyler spoke Spanish to each other, and that they didn’t have subtitles, but lol at the brazenness of asking that question right in front of Shay when Shay could possibly speak Spanish herself. Or lmao, anyone who has taken Spanish I could understand what she was saying. (Like what if Shay was his girlfriend? Kinda think Jo isn’t concerned with technicalities.)

Calling him jefe, lmao, wow.

Tyler referring to Kelsey as Drew Barrymore made me laugh. Do kids these days have a firm grasp on Drew Barrymore’s legacy? What has she been in recently other than Santa Clarita Diet?

Maybe instead of references to Romeo + Juliet, we can get allusions to Ever After, The Wedding Singer, or Never Been Kissed. (Maybe not that last one.)

Also, I’m glad Meg spoke up for Kelsey so they weren’t just bashing her new friends.

Clip 5 - Internet quizzes should not be used to make major life decisions

Zoya is just looking through a book while Kelsey is talking.

Some of Kelsey’s rules: 

“Always act classy”

“No cursing, fighting, messy hair or appearance” while wearing the uniform

“Positive vibes ONLY”

But yeah, here’s another example of why the dance team wasn’t the best way to adapt russ because like … of course Kelsey is being rude and ridiculous, and I can’t say I’m on her side against Zoya, but … if the team founder calls a meeting to discuss rules, it’s expected that you will be there to discuss the rules and not blow it off? 

With Vilde’s bus, first of all, russ was several years away and they had time to pull it all together. A dance team is going to require some results in the near future, especially if the team is school-approved and getting them out of P.E. Someone is probably going to be checking up on the girls and making sure they’re not getting P.E. credit for sitting around and doing nothing. Second, pretty sure a bus group is not going to require as much day to day practice, training, and energy as a dance team.

I don’t know, however silly Kelsey’s motivations might be, if you sign up for someone’s dance team … you should expect to dance, dude. That goes for all the girls.

When prompted to give her opinion of Zoya, Jo cleverly deflects with the quiz, as her opinion of Zoya is clearly ❤️❤️❤️

I do love and appreciate Grace trying to persuade Kelsey to rethink the whole sleeping with Daniel thing. Not being too harsh, but being firm and not hesitating to point out all the ways it’s not a good choice.

Also being like “keep in mind he’s not your boyfriend” thank youuuu.

Kelsey sure doesn’t like that part about people judging her for having premarital sex. At least they might bring it up in the aftermath of hooking up with Daniel?

“That definitely didn’t happen.” “It did happen and she can’t eat Sweet Tarts anymore.” Jo continues to be the shining star of this show, I laughed out loud at her delivery of that line. 

Whenever one of the Chrises is like “I was totally wasted” about their first time, I’m just like 😧

Kelsey saying option A on the quiz, for her “boyfriend” and her being closer once they sleep together, is the most depressing thing. Stop this train before it goes off the rails.

Oh God. Kelsey does not need to be anywhere near a penis at this juncture. The way she starts giggling and laughing when Grace suggests to think about what turns her on about Daniel … you are not ready to have sex. You are barely ready to talk about sex. None of the Vildes has seemed so young and not ready to go through with this.

Kelsey did not talk about not wanting to be involved in lesbianism, hmmmMMMM. Foreshadowing? Or maybe Julie just realized that people didn’t like the casual lesbophobia if you don’t have a lesbian character? 

I haven’t been all that complimentary to the actors on this show, but I do want to give Kelsey’s actress some props for reciting that whole monologue, which is just a detailed Teen Vogue photoshoot.

It’s amusing that Kelsey integrated the Kittens uniform into her erotic fantasy but sad that Kelsey still wants to be a Kitten so much. She’s not wearing a uniform for her own group, whatever she might want it to be, she’s wearing a Kitten uniform in her ideal scenario.

You know Jo is listening to this fantasy and getting inspiration for her next Kelsey makeup experiment.Also, it makes me laugh that they’re having this discussion in a library.

Overheard in Bouldin - TMI Girl in Library: “People get turned on my different things all the time. My cousin’s thing is dirty socks. She keeps a pair of her ex-boyfriend’s in a Ziploc bag under her bed.”

May we one day meet this intriguing cousin of yours, Jo.

But don’t encourage this Daniel nonsense.

It’s too bad we didn’t get the classic doctor visit but lol, a school doctor in Texas might not be able to be so blatant with the sex ed tips, so I get it. And ultimately I would prefer if Julie tried out new scenes instead of trying to recreate old ones.

At first I thought Kelsey maybe didn’t know who Kendrick Lamar was. Which is perfectly plausible, let’s be real.

“When I have ever asked you for anything?” In the short time Meg has known you, Kelsey ... find Jo, join the dance team, get closer to Penetrator Jo, give you her birth control pills.

Clip 6 - Bowling

Kelsey’s outfit is almost exactly what she described in her fantasy! No access to a Kittens dance uniform, but otherwise very close. Follow your dreams, kids. 

“Martin had a dream … Martin had a dream …” look, I like that Skam uses a variety of music and not just white indie rock, but can we like … quit syncing music by black artists talking about black cultural topics to scenes of this white dude being a big deal.

Look at that dipshit taking up two parking spaces. Fuck offffffffffffff

Kelsey looks so happy and Daniel looks like he’s already 75% checked out.

How long is this Kendrick bowling montage going to go on?

Ha, Kelsey easily had the worst bowling score of the four of them.

“Daniel just touched my ass.” The way Kelsey was thrilled about this was kind of cute and alarming.

Kelsey wanting Meg to stay with them as long as she can makes me think she really just doesn’t want to go through with the impending loss of virginity.

“Then how’d you know my name at Talent Night?” I mean ... you do go to school together, and Jo is on the football team with a high social profile. I could name a lot of my high school classmates by name even if I’ve never spoken to them.

Is Julie going to go full Chris/Eva with this version to give the shippers their day in the sun? I love original Eva/Jonas but Meg/Marlon is an unpleasant trainwreck so I can’t say I’m disappointed. I mean I can’t say I love Meg/Penetrator Jo either,, but I’m not sad about this version of Eva/Jonas not being endgame.

Penetrator Jo is still sleazy in at least a few respects (don’t be a cocktease) and we have still have to meet his girlfriend but his memory of her seems legit so maybe he does really like her. Unless, I don’t know, he stalked her IG and remembered some relevant details and embellished this whole story?

Lmao, I can get why people might think the “No Signal” scenario would be a contrivance but that exact thing has happened to me, so I buy it.

I will give Julie this credit, she’s good at setting up Fredag/Friday scenarios where we think one thing will happen, and instead something else occurs that’s completely different from the fan theories. I figured it would be as simple as Meg or Marlon missing the concert, not that we’d spot Marlon (or “Marlon”) with Abby

I don’t think it’s Marlon, though. That seems a lot like Tyler’s walk, and the person doesn’t seem to be wearing Marlon’s ugly shoes. 

General Comments:

It’s kind of depressing to see people in the FB group and in the comments be like, “I haven’t seen the original show but could Grace be a lesbian? 😃” and the replies be like “No, Noorhelm is coming 😃”

Another “fun” aspect of having this show on Facebook: the MAGA edgelord assholes who leave comments on the episodes about “cucks” and “libtards.”

My opinion of Grace rose so much in this episode just by how doggedly she is trying to bring Kelsey back to earth. and telling her she can back out of this choice. 

In the texts, Grace said she would buy condoms for Kelsey - good job - and later, when Kelsey asked the girls what she should wear for losing her virginity, said, “I know what Daniel will be wearing” and said that she put condoms in Kelsey’s purse - excellent job.

I feel like Grace would roll the condom on Daniel’s dick herself if it meant Kelsey had safe sex.

Abby was stressing over finals on IG so I’d bet that was a hint she needed something to help her out, hence meeting up with Marlon/Tyler for Adderall.

I was wondering what kind of music would be on Skam Austin since original Skam had all sorts of high-profile artists, and that would not be cheap, but so far, it seems like Facebook spared no expense with the soundtrack.

Grace and Shay had IG posts reacting to the Santa Fe High School Shooting. IDK how much Skam Austin would address gun violence in the episodes itself in the future, and I can think of ways it could go very badly, but sadly, as one of the biggest concerns of American teenagers today, it would be very relevant, and that’s what Skam’s supposed to be, after all.

hi can i request all of the twilight saga asks you haven't done yet

Ooooo man here we go. You asked for this, literally:)

1) favorite character?

Basically all of them (except Mike Newton and Lauren AKA gross plot devices), but Renesmee in particular.

2) favorite book?

Breaking Dawn because besides Twilight it’s the only one I’ve reread like 100 times.

3) favorite movie?

New Moon because SOUNDTRACK and there’s some really good filmography in it.

4) favorite book moments?

-Bella realizing that Edward was just trying to tire her our in BD so she will be too tired to try to seduce him hahahaha-every time that Bella tries to/wants to physically fight someone-New Moon Reunion

5) favorite movie moments?

-EVERY TIME THERE WAS A MONTAGE OF PAST SCENES. ESPECIALLY THE CREDIT SCENES IN BD PT.2. I cry every time and the montage during the transformation scene that shows Bella’s present to her birth is so beautiful and the soundtrack oh my.-The sound Bella makes when she hits the rock in New Moon.-How good Bella looks in Eclipse, like how do you make a girl who was already really pretty glow up I don’t get it.

6) books in order from favorite to least favorite

Breaking Dawn, Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse.

7) movies in order from favorite to least favorite

New Moon, Breaking Dawn Pt.1, Twilight, Breaking Dawn Pt.2, Eclipse. (Look Eclipse is just… I lost the book halfway through reading it and I didn’t actively search for it lets put it that way. I eventually found it but it was literally months later)

8) book or movie moments that made you the most mad?

-Literally every Bella/Jacob kiss. (Sorry Jacob ily but..no, just… no.) Especially the like the TWO in Eclipse but also the one that was against Bella’s will was the one I hated the most.-Edward screaming “YOU’VE LEFT ME NO CHOICE” in BD pt.1, like, uhmmm… fuck you boo.-Edward taking out parts from the thing (aka Bella’s truck) so that she won’t see Jacob in Eclipse.-Alice and Jasper leaving in Breaking Dawn. Like I get why but it still felt like they could’ve SAID SOMETHING RIGHT???

9) book or movie moments that made you the most sad?

-New Moon.To be specific, The utter downward spiral that Bella goes through. Also her freaking out when Renee and Charlie try to make her move….-END CREDITS OF BD PT.2 look they’re trying to fuck me up let’s be real.

10) opinions/thoughts on life and death?

So when I first read it (like….. 4 or 5 months ago??? I was really late to the game) I hadn’t read twilight in a long time so I didn’t notice all of the similarities that are there. I actually really like it despite that and the Edward/Beau Edythe/Bella ships give me life. The ending was what it needed to be so that Stephanie Meyer wouldn’t get like hounded to make more.

11) do you prefer the books or the movies?

I love the books for generally being better than the movies but I love the emotional impact of the movies and their soundtracks so I gotta say movies which is an unpopular opinion because the books are definitely better but…. SOUNTRACKS MAN…..

12) favorite character casting(s)?

Probably Renesmee but like AFTER they got the real actress for her and not the CGI baby monster thing they had going there. Also SETH and LEAH I love them so much. Also Jasper and Charlie, both are so pure I love them.

13) least favorite character casting(s)?

Pretty much all of the Cullens lmao but probably Carlisle the most. Peter Facinelli I love you but you’re so old and it makes me forget that Carlisle is like stuck at, what is it 23??? And Esme like… I love Elizabeth Reaser too but again they both look like they’re in their mid 30’s and it kind of takes away from the effect of them looking out of place and being in a strange situation by adopting all of these (supposed to be) teens. Also I don’t really like Taylor Lautner when he’s supposed to be just a normal kid bc again he seems too buff even thought he really wasn’t but as beefcake Jacob he’s great. Look I could go on and on about this so I’ll stop now.

14) favorite songs from the soundtracks?

OOOO BOY THIS IS MY FAVORITE QUESTION. Look I love music, like that’s all I care about 90% of the time and the soundtracks ARE ALL SO GOOD (Esp New Moon). I do have a few favorites lmao-Hearing Damage by Thom Yorke-Possibility by Lykke Li-Roslyn by Saint Vincent & Bon Iver -Full Moon by The Black Ghosts-Spotlight by Mutemath-Shooting the Moon by OK Go(Plus like all of the songs on the scores)

15) what’s one thing you would change about the saga?

I’ve been thinking recently about what about the saga I don’t like the most, and what I could change that would make the most impact and I feel like if the moral of the story was something healthy and actually something suitable for the young adult/teen audience that it’s meant for then that would change a lot about it. There’s always something to be learned from a story and something the author is trying to show society and if there was a bigger focus on a healthy lesson like self love, experiencing trauma but then healing properly and growing from it, or the way humans need platonic, nonromantic relationships and not just a hyper focus on romantic relationships to be happy in life, then the series would’ve been VERY different.

16) (already answered)

17) which character would you be best friends with?

Probably Angela hahaha. Irl I tend to be shy and introverted so Angela and I would understand each other very well.

18) which characters would you probably not get along with?

Well I don’t like to be told what to do with my life. I’m a really independent person who takes friendly advice but it really makes me mad when people tell me straight up what to do, so if Alice came up to me and started trying to change how I live and my wardrobe and such I would NOT do well with that.

19) (already answered)

20) favorite wolf?

Leah could punch me in the face and I would thank her.

21) favorite human?

Angela :)

22) favorite Volturi?

Marcus because I too wish for death on a daily basis.

23) would you rather be a wolf or vampire?

Vampire. I don’t sleep or go outside in the sun anyways so there’s not much of a stretch. It’s gotten so bad that my family calls me a vampire sometimes.

24) what would you want your special vampire power/ ability to be?

Well if Carlisle’s theory holds true and a gift is supposed to be an amplification of some trait one had when they were human (except for Benjamin and Kate like… what???) Then mine would have to be something related to music/singing. Invisibility would be really cool but also a very very insane ability to have. I’d have to think really long and hard before I gave a concrete answer to that.

25) what would you want your wolf fur to look like?

First thought: black like my soul Second thought: Gray

26) would you want to join the Volturi?

No thank you but I appreciate the gesture.

27) if you were a vampire, would you follow a “vegetarian” diet? How would you go about your life?

Yeah I’d be a vegetarian because I’m a not so secret hippie and I don’t like the idea of killing people OR animals, so I’m fucked but I’ll just lower my morals a bit and probably not hunt those poor animals unless i HAD to. As in I’d stretch out time between hunts until it wasn’t a good idea for me to be doing that anymore. Also I don’t really know how I would spend my life, probably just doing the equivalent of watching t.v. and hanging out. Maybe if some dogs liked me then I’d adopt a few but like… short lives. I’m generally against the idea of living forever because I don’t think i could be entertained for that long ever.

28) your opinion on imprinting?

First thought: How convenient…. I don’t know it’s complicated. I enjoy the idea of how easy and effortless it is, like I automatically get someone who loves me??? Cool! But also the lack of control is concerning. Also imprinting on a baby is just. It could’ve been explained better tbh.

29) favorite couples and/or friendships?

-The Jasper/Emmett bromance gives me life. - Edythe/Bella & Edward/Beau just is so pure I love it.

30) (already answered)

Fate Goes (and has a bad evening)

nnnnNNNNnnnnNNNN

*OKAY ITS BEEN LIKE SEVERAL MONTHS SINCE THIS DRAFT HAS BEEN OPENED SO WE'RE JUST GONNA.. MOVE ON* Sheepy: Bedi: *he's preparing the outside of the house for Halloween. it's important to be festive!* Sheepy: Bedi: I didn't think we should present our home as scary, so I went with this cute ornament I found in the store instead. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Cute, yeah. If you cover up the entire face, I could agree it's cute! Sheepy: Bedi: What do you mean? Sheepy: Bedi: I thought its face was cute... Sheepy: Bedi: Oh, do you have a costume yet? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Of course not! Sheepy: Bedi: I don't either. I forgot about it. Sheepy: Bedi: Do you have any ideas? Arsé-kun: Merlin: ... Oh, I've got one! Sheepy: Bedi: What is it? Arsé-kun: Merlin: You be me, I'll be you! Sheepy: Bedi: Oh, good idea! Arsé-kun: Merlin: It can't be that hard, can it?? Sheepy: Bedi: It shouldn't be too difficult. Sheepy: Bedi: It doesn't have to be perfect, after all! Arsé-kun: Merlin: And that just makes it easier on us! Sheepy: Bedi: Yes, and we could make it easier by swapping clothing. Arsé-kun: Merlin: That's what I was thinking! Sheepy: Bedi: Perfect. Arsé-kun: Merlin: And we can wait until the last minute to prepare. So lets get back to this. *he picks up and plants a scarecrow with decent force.* Sheepy: Bedi: *he turns his attention to the last thing he put up and begins straightening it* Sheepy: *Lobo is watching them from the window* Sheepy: Bedi:... *he looks up at the window* Oh, that reminds me. We'll need to get Lobo not to tear it up. Sheepy: Bedi: And we'll need to get Rider not to decapitate anything...huh. They're already kind of Halloween themed. Dr. Griffin, too. Arsé-kun: Merlin: They really are, huh? Lucky them. Sheepy: Bedi: But during Christmas...or Easter... Arsé-kun: Merlin: That's when it sucks to be them! Sheepy: Bedi: Or during Updog day. Lucan told me about it, but not details. Sheepy: Bedi: However, I'm sure it's incredibly important. Arsé-kun: Merlin: ... ... What's updog? Sheepy: Bedi: I don't know, unfortunately. Sheepy: Bedi: So you haven't heard of it, either? Arsé-kun: Merlin: *he sighs and stops adjusting a fake tombstone* It's bait to get someone to ask what Updog is! Sheepy: Bedi:...But why? Arsé-kun: Merlin: "What's up, dog", followed by "Not much dog, what's up with you!" Sheepy: Bedi: *he looks completely lost, but his smile is still present* Sheepy: Bedi: Oh, so you're meant to say it to a dog? Arsé-kun: Merlin: "Dog" can be slang for "dude" or "bro". *his airquotes are spot on* Sheepy: Bedi: I see. Arsé-kun: Merlin: It's.. It's a kid friendly variation on sugma. Sheepy: Bedi: Ah... Sheepy: Bedi:.... Sheepy: Bedi: Like the fire slug in the game Kintoki was playing. Arsé-kun: Merlin: ...? Arsé-kun: Merlin: I guess?? Sheepy: Bedi: That's its name. Arsé-kun: Merlin: We'll just have to ask, huh? Sheepy: Bedi: Ask whom? Kintoki? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Yeah. Sheepy: Bedi: Oh, I suppose. Arsé-kun: Angra: *he strolls outside, his goal being to ruin the nice pile of leaves* Just google it, you old tart! Sheepy: Bedi:....? Sheepy: Bedi: *he tilts his head* "Google"... Arsé-kun: Merlin: *he promptly pulls his phone out to google it* Oh, it's Slugma. Was close, though. Sheepy: Bedi: I'm afraid I can't "google" anything. I'm not aware of such a verb. Sheepy: Bedi: I apologize. Arsé-kun: Angra: *he stops and squints so hard his eyes are slivers* You not use the internet or something? You an old retired man? Sheepy: Bedi: Once again, I'm not familiar with such things. Arsé-kun: Angra: Your fuckbuddy does streams and you don't know shit? Sheepy: Bedi: Ah! That's magic! *he's beaming* Isn't he amazing!? Arsé-kun: Angra: Sweet merciful zoroastrian feast of fucks. *he puts his hands on his face. his face is gone. incredible void boy tricks* It's all wires and signals. Edison n' Tesla would shit themselves over it. Sheepy: Bedi: I'm afraid...I do not follow your explanation. Arsé-kun: Angra: Wizrad, I am stealing your idiot! I'm teaching him how to use the internet! Arsé-kun: Merlin: Have fun! Sheepy: Bedi: I don't understand. Arsé-kun: Angra: You're about to! *he grabs onto the Airgetlam and very, very quickly regrets his decisions. But he sticks to it!* Sheepy: *Airgetlam glows upon being touched.* Sheepy: Bedi: I...I see. *he doesn't appear to notice it at all.* Arsé-kun: Angra: C'mon, we're goin' in! Gonna show you how to look up shit and cool swords, or whatever you knights like! Arsé-kun: *Angra goes to drag Bedi inside. Airgetlam is in no danger of being torn off on accident- Angra's not strong enough to do that, even if he wanted to.* Sheepy: *bedi follows, confused still* Sheepy: Bedi: Why? Arsé-kun: *Angra grabs a nearby laptop and opens it up. It ain't his.* Arsé-kun: Angra: Because the world runs on this shit, kid. Sheepy: Bedi:....! Sheepy: Bedi: Internet is sunlight. Arsé-kun: Angra: It's closer to lightning, I think! Arsé-kun: Angra: Chaldea? Internet. Phones? Some net. Streams? Net. Electricity is wild. Sheepy: Bedi: Net? Sheepy: Bedi: Like fishing net. Arsé-kun: Angra: Internet. I ain't sayin' it every single time. Sheepy: Bedi: So Chaldea is internet. Arsé-kun: Angra: It sure has a lot of it! Okay, here. *he pulls up the equivalent of google that's used these days.* What do ya wanna look up? Anythin'. Sheepy: Bedi: *he looks up* Arsé-kun: Angra: ... ... On the internet, you literal turd. Sheepy: Bedi: Like in tomes. Arsé-kun: Angra: Yes! Sheepy: Bedi: I don't know. Sheepy: Bedi: Perhaps on wolves to figure out how to prevent them from tearing up your decorations... Arsé-kun: Angra: *he looks up "Stopping dogs from ruining decorations", and in a second tab looks up "How to google on the internet", before passing the laptop off to Bedi* Go fucking nuts, go feral, go play. Sheepy: Bedi: What? Arsé-kun: Angra: Oh, man. *he very slowly opens the first link for the first search, so Bedi can watch* Like that. Arsé-kun: Angra: You can read, yeah? You're not dumb? Sheepy: Bedi: I can read. Arsé-kun: Angra: Then get readin'! Searching stuff is just a book on a screen. Sheepy: Bedi:...I, um.. Sheepy: Bedi: I still don't understand why. Arsé-kun: Angra: Because the net's got everythin'! It's got all the books! All of 'em! Shit's wild. Arsé-kun: Angra: And everybody these days relies on it more than their legs half the time! Not literally! Sheepy: Bedi: Really? So it's a library? Arsé-kun: Angra: A big wired library! Sheepy: Bedi: I see! Sheepy: Bedi: I'd like to visit this library one day!! Arsé-kun: *Angra leans over to bring up a third search. "What is the internet and how do I use it?" It has video results! Bedi (probably) knows what videos are! I hope??* Arsé-kun: *Bedi will now be inconvenienced by The World's Evil, for at least an hour. Or that's what Angra's gonna say about it. He's just as interested in how it actually works.* Sheepy: *Bedi seems to be getting more and more anxious as time passes.* Arsé-kun: *Sucks to be you, Angra thinks!* Sheepy: Bedi: Well, it's just... Arsé-kun: Angra: A gigantic waste of time? Sheepy: Bedi: I left in the middle of helping Merlin. Sheepy: Bedi: Y...no. Arsé-kun: Angra: Yes? Great! I've taught a thing and ruined your afternoon! *yesssss!* Sheepy: Bedi: I do appreciate what you've told me... Sheepy: Tristan: How sad, how sad. Arsé-kun: Angra: What's depressin' you this week, sad man? Sheepy: Tristan: The day of Halloween is on the horizon, and yet, I have not even begun to set sail. Sheepy: Tristan: *he strums his harp* It occurred to me that it wouldn't matter, because even if I were to dress up as something else, it would never change how despicable a man I am. Sheepy: Tristan: How sad, how sad. Arsé-kun: Angra: Aww, cute! If the sum of evil can do it, what's stoppin' you, pumpkin? *he is absolutely teasing Tristan. At least he's not being snappy about it* Sheepy: Tristan: Ah, to be a Knight of the Round Table, filled wih confidence of tomorrow. Ah, to be the evil of the world, fearless, uncaring of how others may judge him. Arsé-kun: Angra: Here's this villain's advice! Just put on cat ears and you're done. Sheepy: Tristan: And yet, I quiver before this decision of mine, incapable of escaping from the standstill I have put myself in. Arsé-kun: Angra: ... *he googles "Lazy halloween costumes"* Sheepy: Tristan: I wouldn't be a very beautiful cat in my current state. Sheepy: Tristan: Ah, I can only be a thing of beauty, for I am a thing of beauty. Sheepy: Tristan: So a cat would be out of the picture, since I'm lacking in four legs and a tail. Sheepy: Tristan: Those, and their ears, are what make them beautiful. So, you see, I could never capture that. Sheepy: Tristan: How sad, how sad. Sheepy: Tristan: Sometimes I'm so beautiful it troubles even myself. Arsé-kun: Angra: *he's run out of responses. completely out.* Sheepy: Bedi: I... Sheepy: Bedi: Y...yes. Sheepy: Tristan: Do you ever feel this way? Arsé-kun: Angra: What, sad? Sure. Sheepy: Tristan: No, no. Sheepy: Tristan: Troubled by your own beauty. Sheepy: Tristan: Ah, I feel a need to always live up to it. Arsé-kun: Angra: As you can see, I'm a black hole! Can't relate! I'm not pretty! Sheepy: Tristan: Perhaps you are but you haven't discovered it yet. Arsé-kun: Angra: I'd say "Hell yeah internal beauty" but man I am one, UGLY, motherfucker. Sheepy: Tristan: Internal beauty is something you're capable of fixing. Sheepy: Tristan: It just requires bravery I do not have. Sheepy: Bedi: I'd recommend a varied and healthy diet. Arsé-kun: Angra: Have you tried eating scorpion yet? Sheepy: Bedi: Oh! I have. Arsé-kun: Angra: Good shit. Sheepy: Bedi: Yes. Sheepy: Bedi: I wouldn't word it that way myself, but... Sheepy: Bedi: I agree with the feelings behind that. Arsé-kun: Angra: Don't eat shit, either, kids, you WILL die. Sheepy: Bedi: I didn't brave such things... Sheepy: Tristan: Hmm? Sheepy: Tristan: But you eat honey. Arsé-kun: Angra: You tellin' me that's bee shit? Sheepy: Bedi:...I don't think honey is bee poop. Arsé-kun: Angra: *New search! What is Honey, actually?* ... ... Honey is bee vomit. I hate this information! You can have it! Sheepy: Bedi:.. Sheepy: Bedi: Oh, that doesn't surprise me. Arsé-kun: Angra: That's not the reply I was looking for! I love it. Sheepy: Bedi: I suspected bees had a deep, dark secret. Sheepy: Bedi: It's a lot less dark than I expected. Arsé-kun: Angra: Like how the Queen can't fly and get her fat little body off the ground because she's terminally fucking bees? Sheepy: Bedi: Or how all female bees are capable of producing eggs, but the queen will eat their eggs. Arsé-kun: Angra: Nice. Sheepy: Bedi: If the queen doesn't respond in time, the female bees will kill her and lay more eggs, but... Arsé-kun: Merlin: ._. Sheepy: Bedi: They don't hatch into anything from what I recall, so the hive ends up...ah, Merlin. I apologize. ...I got distracted and didn't help you. Arsé-kun: Merlin: It's cool, Bedi, got Lance to take over. Sheepy: Bedi: I'm happy to hear that. Sheepy: Tristan: Merlin. Arsé-kun: Merlin: What's up, Tristan? Sheepy: Tristan: I've come across a standstill. How sad. Sheepy: Tristan: I'm too beautiful for any costumes, so I fear diminishing my appearance with them. Sheepy: Tristan:...But I want to join in on the festivities. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Be yourself but hotter. Sheepy: Tristan:....! Sheepy: Tristan: Ah, I knew I could count on you. Sheepy: Tristan: I'll be myself, but with an open jacket. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Wait, I've got more. Dress up as a different class, but you're still fantastic you. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Yes, you understand! Sheepy: Tristan: Hmm? Sheepy: Tristan: Another class.. Sheepy: Tristan:...Yes, I'll be... Sheepy: Tristan: *he poses* Studmuffin class. Arsé-kun: Merlin: New exclusive class! One member only! Sheepy: Bedi:...I don't remember hearing about that class before. Arsé-kun: *angra makes a sound akin to a verbal keysmash* Arsé-kun: Merlin: It exists now because we've said so. Sheepy: Tristan: You can join too, Merlin. I'm sure you qualify for it. Ah, Sir Bedivere, too. Sheepy: Tristan: We'll be the Three Studkateers. Arsé-kun: *mozart breaks into uncontrollable laughter several rooms away. i wonder why* Sheepy: Bedi: I feel like I've been dragged into something that I'll quickly come to regret. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Love to join you, but I'm being Bedi this year. Sheepy: Tristan: The Three Studkateers disband before they even can make group jackets... Sheepy: Tristan: How sad, how sad! Sheepy: Tristan: Ah, I truly am alone on this mission! Arsé-kun: Angra: I'll volunteer with my inner beauty to keep you company! Sheepy: Tristan: We'll be Beauty and the Beast. Sheepy: Tristan: Of course, I take the first role. Arsé-kun: Angra: Better than what I had planned! I'll take Beast! Sheepy: Bedi: I...I'm glad it all worked out in the end. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Yeah, me too. Sheepy: Bedi: But how did things go with Lobo? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Haven't seen him yet, but I get the feeling he's up to something. Sheepy: Bedi: Oh dear... Sheepy: Bedi: *he raises his voice* Lobo! Sheepy: *Lobo walks in with a pumpkin in his mouth* Arsé-kun: Angra: You got it! You've got a pumpkin! Sheepy: Lobo: *He's wagging his tail* Sheepy: Bedi: Lobo, don't eat the ornaments, okay? Sheepy: Lobo: *he glares viciously at Bedi* Arsé-kun: Merlin: I don't think that needs a translation! Sheepy: Bedi: I'll give you any other food you want if you don't eat the ornaments. Sheepy: Lobo:......! Sheepy: Lobo: *he snorts* (Chocolate.) Arsé-kun: Angra: Why, so you eat grass all day tomorrow? Sheepy: Lobo:? Arsé-kun: Angra: Eh, okay! *he hops up to get Lobo some sweets. there is a 50% chance Minako will destroy him during the journey.* Sheepy: Bedi: Where are you going? Arsé-kun: Angra: Gettin' Lobo what he wants. I like keeping my limbs intact! Sheepy: Lobo: *he follows Angra, the pumpkin still in his mouth* Sheepy: Bedi: I...see. Sheepy: Bedi: Is he really that mad...? He seems happy with the pumpkin. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I'm surprised he isn't risking it to tease Lobo. Sheepy: Bedi: Me too. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Even the world's evil is capable of improving.. Arsé-kun: Merlin: That's something to think about. Arsé-kun: *Other current events include! Mephisto, Jekyll, and Jack turning Mink's living room into an impromptu lab (mostly by Mephisto's Terr. Creation), uhhhh, Lance slowly setting up the outside (He's very unsure, and has invited Herc to help), Proto going on some sort of spy mission, and uhhhhhh whatever else we can think of.* Sheepy: Tristan: How sad, how sad! Sheepy: Tristan: Even the world's evil is capable of improvement, and yet I... Sheepy: *Rider is watching Lancelot and Herc, Holmes has joined in on the science club* Sheepy: Tristan: Ah...if only I were capable of it. But instead...my inability to improve... Sheepy: Tristan: Stems from the coldest depths of my soul. Sheepy: Tristan: How sad, how sad! Sheepy: Bedi: I know how to improve at anything, Sir Tristan. If you recognize your flaws and address them, you'll improve. Sheepy: Tristan: Ah...My friend is such a genius! Truly, I'm lucky to have such fri....-!!! Sheepy: Tristan: Th...that's it! Sheepy: Tristan: What a lucky man I am! How joyful! Arsé-kun: Merlin: You do have friends. You seem to doubt that often. Sheepy: Tristan: Ah...but my realization... Sheepy: Tristan: Friends can help me improve as a person. Arsé-kun: Merlin: They absolutely can! Arsé-kun: Jekyll, distantly: Please don't imbibe the chemicals!!! Sheepy: Izou: I'm dumb and don't know what those words mean! Sheepy: Izou: It ticks me off! Sheepy: Izou: It makes me want to drink this weird lookin' alcohol even more! Arsé-kun: Jekyll: Please do not drink the chemicals. It is not alcohol. You won't get drunk. Sheepy: Izou: Then what's the point!? Sheepy: Izou: You smart people are all bland! Arsé-kun: Jekyll: ... *he holds his phone up to his ear for a moment or so* .. I've been corrected. I'm told to inform you that drinking this will make you dead and stupid. In that order. Sheepy: Izou: I'm already both! Sheepy: Izou: Err....wait! Sheepy: Izou: I'm not that - Sheepy: Izou: ...... Sheepy: Izou: Is it...........first...or second...--I don't care! I ain't dead, you smart person! Arsé-kun: Mephisto: You will be once I bomb you to smithereens! *:D* Or the invisible guy can get you, whichever comes first! *he gestures to Jack holding up a visible t-shirt. floating t-shirt. scary.* Sheepy: Izou: stop making up big words! I don't understand them! Are you doing it to make fun of me!? Arsé-kun: Mephisto: You, bomb, explode, die! *this is amusing him far more than it should* Sheepy: Izou: *he huffs* I won't let you if you try! *he puts down the chemical* Sheepy: Izou: Why are you smiling like that!? Are you laughing at me!? Ahhh, you make me so mad! I hate that face of yours! Arsé-kun: Mephisto: Thanks! Sheepy: Izou: ? Sheepy: Izou: Thanks? Sheepy: Izou: What did I do? Nothing for you! Why are you thanking me!? Arsé-kun: Mephisto: Because! *he puts his own chemicals down and caps them. safety first* You're not supposed to like this demon! You can try to punch me after we wrap this up, okay? Arsé-kun rolled a die with 20 sides. The die showed: 2 Arsé-kun: *The t-shirt is put down. Someone's approaching you, Izou, but you don't see shiiiit. Sure hear it though.* Sheepy: Izou: .......Who's there!? Arsé-kun: Jack: The Invisible Man. You look like you were hit by a damn dump truck and smell like it too. Was that your intention? Sheepy: Izou: Oi! I don't look like- whatever you just said! Sheepy: Izou: I'm not lookin' to impress anyone! One minute I was eatin' out of that little kid's trash, and then the next I ended up in here! Arsé-kun: Mephisto: That explains a lot! Sheepy: Izou: I was gonna try to abduct him for ransom money, but I didn't understand what that meant for what I had to do, so I left it up to the kid. Arsé-kun: Jack: Had you harmed him, you'd have ceased to live. *he goes to pat Izou, and leaves a very clear handprint. Jack's hand is now stained with filth. dis gus tang* Sheepy: Izou: 's that a threat? Is abductin' him harm? Sheepy: Izou: I've only seen it on TV. Arsé-kun: Jekyll: This was a better outcome. *he watches as Jack tries to wipe off the filth and just spreads it across himself. Well, now theres some floating dirt smears* Sheepy: Izou: What? Sheepy: Izou: Oi, th' best outcome would've been getting gambling money. Sheepy: Izou: I'm dumb and never won, not even once! Sheepy: Izou: But it's so much fun! Arsé-kun: Jekyll: There are people to gamble with here. You might even win once or twice. Sheepy: Izou: Oh, I want to gamble! And get drunk! Arsé-kun: Jekyll: I can confirm the presence of booze. Arsé-kun: Jekyll: ... Hyde adds that it is "the good shit". Sheepy: Izou: ! Sheepy: Izou: Gimme, gimme! Arsé-kun: Mephisto: Lab adjourned! We'll resume after the holiday! *he picks up Jack's t-shirt and the lab just vanishes. Normal living room resumes it's existence.* Go raid a kitchen, but don't say we sent you~ Sheepy: Izou: Great! Sheepy: Lobo: *he’s sniffing at Jack* Arsé-kun: Jack: *he pats Lobo's nose with his less dirty hand* Do I smell like Shinjuku yet, Lobo? Sheepy: Lobo: *he tilts his head before licking Jack* Sheepy: Izou: !! It’s big! ‘nd fluffy! Arsé-kun: Jekyll: This is Lobo. He might decide you're a toy, so be careful. Arsé-kun: Hyde: Or dinner! Arsé-kun: *Jekyll quickly pats his hair back down. Down, Hyde. Bad. Bad alter-ego.* Sheepy: Lobo: *he looks over at Jekyll before sniffing at Izou* Sheepy: Izou: I'm no toy, nor am I dinner! Sheepy: Lobo: *he bites down on a loose piece of Izou's clothing and starts chewing on it, but Izou is too busy looking smug at Jekyll to notice.* Sheepy: Izou: Fuhahahaha! I'm a scary manslayer! I won't let anyone laugh at me, or I'll cut them down! Especially smart people! Sheepy: Izou: And so that means I'm no one's toy nor dinner! Sheepy: Lobo: *chew, chew* Arsé-kun: Jack: Your scarf sure is. I'm going to clean this grime off. Excuse me, shitheads. *the walking dirt exits scene* Sheepy: Izou:...! Sheepy: Izou: Heyhey, that's not food. I've already tried eating it. Arsé-kun: Angra: Whatt're we doin', pup? *he goes to write "KICK ME" on Izou's scarf* Sheepy: Lobo: *he tilts his head* Arsé-kun: Angra: Daaaaaamn, you're so dirty it's staining pure evil! *his hand is also now stained with gray grime. it doesn't look black on him* Impressive! Sheepy: Izou: Eh? Arsé-kun: Angra: Hi, I'm the villain of the house! Can I inconvenience you? Great! Sheepy: Izou: What? Arsé-kun: Angra: I'm stealing you! I'd hold you for ransom but I'd get a dirty sock and ten qp~ Sheepy: Izou: Where are we goin' Sheepy: Lobo: *he has his mouth open, ready to chew on Izou more* Arsé-kun: Angra: We're goin' up! If we look half decent, we can steal as much as we want from the kitch' and no one can stop us! Sheepy: Izou:...! Sheepy: Izou: Where're we goin'!? Arsé-kun: Angra: Up a floor! Not far! Sheepy: Lobo: *chew chew chew* Arsé-kun: *Mephisto has opted out of this encounter. Goodbye Moose* Sheepy: Izou: Right, I'll follow you. Arsé-kun: *Vlad is currently at the kitchen table, keeping Satoru company. He watches as Angra and Izou pass by, dragging Lobo along behind them. Bc he's still chewing on the scarf. Vlad is unfazed by all this. The only thing he IS fazed by is the smell. Yuck.* Sheepy: Satoru: That's him. Sheepy: Satoru: He seems nice enough. Arsé-kun: Vlad: I see... Did you need yet another dog? Sheepy: Satoru: Dog? Where? Arsé-kun: Vlad: Something about his appearance reminds me of a scruffy street terrier. Sheepy: Satoru: Oh. He reminds me of a rat. Arsé-kun: Vlad: I see that as well, but I quite like rats. Sheepy: Satoru: He asked me to help him kidnap me for ransom money but I said I had to ask you first. Arsé-kun: Vlad: He would have instead gotten my fist as payment, and his blood on the floor as interest. Sheepy: Satoru: That's a weird form of payment. Sheepy: Satoru: What can be bought with it? Arsé-kun: Vlad: Dying by my hand for such crimes. Sheepy: Satoru: Oh. Sheepy: Satoru: Huh. Sheepy: Satoru:.....But, since he lives here now...who...summoned him? Arsé-kun: Vlad: You will have to ask. I may just impale him on the spot. Sheepy: Satoru: Huh? But... Sheepy: Satoru: He's my Servant now. Arsé-kun: Vlad: So he is. Sheepy: Satoru: So killing him, um... Arsé-kun: Vlad: Would be a bad idea. Yes, I understand. Sheepy: Satoru: That's good. Sheepy: Satoru: For now he can just be the weird man who came for dinner and stayed all winter. Sheepy: Satoru: He's unexpected so I won't expect anyone to immediately warm up to him. Arsé-kun: Vlad: Yet, it does sound like some already have. Sheepy: Satoru: That's good. Sheepy: Satoru: Or else...well. Arsé-kun: Mozart: Or well what? What is it, Lassie? Did little Timmy shit in the well? *he continues to think he's funny. Saku stops and stares at him.* Sheepy: Satoru: Mom won't let him sit down. Sheepy: Satoru: Guin probably would chase him down, too. Sheepy: Satoru: And he'd probably smell stinky while everyone tries to eat. Like garbage. Arsé-kun: Vlad: Yes, exactly. Sheepy: Satoru: And I doubt anyone would like that. Arsé-kun: Saku: We would not. Sheepy: Satoru: ...I didn't really think that far before inviting him in. Arsé-kun: Vlad: You didn't. At least you can understand your mistakes. Sheepy: Satoru: If he is a threat in some way, what do w do? Arsé-kun: Vlad: I call first chance at impaling him through the chest with several lances and d- *he has an oven mitt thrown at him. it lands on him and he only stops to glance at Sakura* Yes, yes, I am stopping. Sheepy: Satoru: He already has been stabbed. Arsé-kun: Vlad: There was more, but I seem to not be permitted to continue. Sheepy: Satoru: Oh, okay. Arsé-kun: Mozart: I do hear the shower running upstairs. Maybe someone convinced him to clean up? Sheepy: Satoru: That's good. Arsé-kun: *a bit later on!* Sheepy: Izou: *He's come downstairs and....... did he always have purple hair like that, or...* Arsé-kun: Minako: Oh, you're right. He is fluffy! Sheepy: Satoru: He looks much better now. Arsé-kun rolled a die with 20 sides. The die showed: 7 Arsé-kun: Minako: ... Assassin class, I think? He's hard to pin down. Sheepy: Izou: What? Sheepy: Izou: No. Sheepy: Izou: My class is "Hitokiri". Arsé-kun: Minako: ...? Sheepy: Izou: It's different. Arsé-kun: *Mori is quietly observing from the side, meanwhile* Sheepy: Izou: Why's everyone lookin' at me? Arsé-kun: Mori: You're far stronger than initially calculated. Sheepy: Izou: Hah! Yeah! Sheepy: Izou: I'm a sword prodigy! Fuhahahahaha! Arsé-kun: Mori: Your strength is very impressive. May I ask how you got strong as a servant? Sheepy: Izou: By being a prodigy! Sheepy: Izou: Also, I found this place! Sheepy: Izou: It had these hands. They dropped this tasty food. Sheepy: Izou: Eventually I got thrown out. Sheepy: Izou: I felt weirdly stronger after that. Sheepy: Izou: Oh, yeah. Sheepy: Izou: This weird guy, too. Sheepy: Izou: He looked rich. Sheepy: Izou: His trash tasted like rich people's trash, too. Arsé-kun: Mori: ... ... Can you describe his appearance at all? Sheepy: Izou: Like...a smart guy. Kinda stiff. Uh.... Sheepy: Izou: Very dark hair. Sheepy: Izou: He kinda reminds me of a butler. Arsé-kun: Mozart: Oh, did he speak like.. *ahem* Very properly, yes, but was still able to convey being a pile of- excuse my French- Shit? Sheepy: Izou: Yeah. Sheepy: Izou: I hated how he used big words! It confused me. Arsé-kun: Mori: .... I do hope one of us has reached the same conclusion I have. Sheepy: Holmes: Ah, so his actual Master is... Sheepy: Holmes: Masanori, huh. Arsé-kun: Angra: Butler McBitch! We did it, we solved the mystery. Sheepy: Izou: What? Arsé-kun: Angra: Don't worry about it! If we see him again, we've got free reign to slay the man! Sheepy: Izou: Do I really? Arsé-kun: Angra: *he looks to Satoru* Do we? Sheepy: Satoru: Um, that doesn't sound like a good idea. Arsé-kun: Angra: Maim? Curse for the rest of his horrible life? Hit him with a car! Sheepy: Satoru: Oh, okay. Arsé-kun: Angra: Hooray! *he is Excited!* Izou-san! Lets get drunk! Sheepy: Izou: What's goin' on, anyway? ...Well, I want alcohol! Sheepy: Izou: Yeah, let's get absolutely smashed! Arsé-kun: Angra: Hell yeah! Arsé-kun: Mori: .... Holmes, if I may? How did you reach your conclusion? Sheepy: Holmes: What? I just listened to the explanation. Sheepy: Holmes: But I had suspicions. Arsé-kun: Mori: It's good to know we were on the same page this time. Sheepy: Holmes: For example... Sheepy: Holmes: He wasn't allowed at Chaldea's ember fields, meaning that his Master wasn't related to Chaldea. Arsé-kun: Mori: And if his Master had perished a more regular way, he would know about it. Sheepy: Holmes: He's dirty and eating out of the trash, meaning that his Master doesn't care about his well being. Arsé-kun: Mori: And this matches much of Masanori's behavior. Sheepy: Holmes: Exactly. Sheepy: Satoru: So is he still Masanori's servant? Or my own...? Sheepy: Izou: I don't care about that guy. You have free booze. Arsé-kun: Mori: I would be inclined to say yours. Sheepy: Satoru: Oh, that's good. Sheepy: Izou: Just don't betray me. Sheepy: Izou: Or I might want to, uh...is the phrase, "bite the hand that feeds me"? Arsé-kun: Mori: That's it, and very understandable. But you will not be betrayed to that level. Sheepy: Izou: Good. And don't give me smelly veggies either. Sheepy: Izou: I hate smelly veggies. Arsé-kun: Mori: That I cannot guarantee. Sheepy: Izou: If you follow all that, I'll be loyal. Sheepy: Satoru: But what if the stinky veggies are good? Sheepy: Izou:....... Sheepy: Izou: *he crosses his arms and tilts his head* ..... Sheepy: Izou: But they're stinky. Arsé-kun: Angra: So were you, what's ya point? Sheepy: Izou:...Okay, fine, I GUESS it's fine, but I won't like it! Sheepy: Holmes: You probably know my name. Sheepy: Izou: I don't. Sheepy: Holmes: Sherlock Holmes. Sheepy: Izou: I don't. Arsé-kun: Mori: *hes just smirking at Sherlock* Sheepy: Holmes: How... Sheepy: Izou: Okay, old man, you next. Arsé-kun: Mori: You are permitted to call me Moriarty. Sheepy: Izou: Alright. Sheepy: Izou: I'm Okada Izou. Arsé-kun: *Minako's hand dives into her pocket for a phone or her compact- Whichever comes first. Who is this guy? Let's find out* Sheepy: Izou: What is that? Arsé-kun: Minako: My phone? You can't eat it. It isn't food, no matter how much we wish it was! Sheepy: Izou: Nah, I was thinking it could be a weapon. Wouldn't be the first time. Sheepy: Izou: I'm that scary! Sheepy: Izou: You see that, right? How scary I am? Sheepy: Satoru: You look like a pomeranian. Arsé-kun: Minako: Oh, you're right.. Sheepy: Izou: Yeah, that sounds real intimidating! Arsé-kun: Angra: .... ....... *he says nothing.* Sheepy: Izou: Yeah, yeah, I look like a pomeranian! Fuhahahaha! I don't even know what that is! I love the sound of it! Sheepy: Izou: You really get it! Sheepy: Satoru: You're fluffy and easily excited like one. Sheepy: Izou:...Wait, what IS a pomeranian!? Arsé-kun: Angra: *he snorts into his booze* Sheepy: Holmes: *he is on google* Okada Izou...huh. Arsé-kun: *Nobody answers the question. But by all the smirks and suppressed laughs, probably not a good thing.* Sheepy: Holmes: *he reads off the brief description on google* Arsé-kun: Mori: Thank you, ace detective, for using your detective skills to open wikipedia. Sheepy: Holmes: Yes, you're welcome. Sheepy: Izou: Once again, I'm not an assassin. Sheepy: Izou: I'm a manslayer. Sheepy: Yan: *he's got his feet up on the table while drinking booze* Arsé-kun: Minako: Who let you in? Sheepy: Yan: Myself? Arsé-kun: Minako: Again? Sheepy: Yan: Yeah. Arsé-kun: Minako: You don't have, like, Chaldea things to do? Sheepy: Yan: Like what? *he takes a sip of the alcohol* Arsé-kun: Minako: Do you just bum around with the doctor's money? Sheepy: Yan: No. Arsé-kun: Minako: That's a surprise. Sheepy: Yan: I don't use her money. Arsé-kun: Minako: Then where do you get any from? Sheepy: Yan: I work? Sheepy: Yan: Old man has paid me before. I won't disclose any other employers of mine. Sheepy: Yan: I WILL say the detective is paying me for something, though. Arsé-kun: Mink: If it's drugs, can you tell me so I can punch him? :) Sheepy: Yan: No, no. Sheepy: Yan: I don't have that sort of stuff anyway. Arsé-kun: Minako: Good! Sheepy: Yan: No, instead- oh, actually, it's important Old Man hears this anyway. Sheepy: Yan: He's paying me not to turn into him. Arsé-kun: Mori: Oh, I can understand that. You would give away his mystery far too quickly. *he seems amused* But what if I pay you more? Sheepy: Yan: Hmmm....... Sheepy: Yan: Oh, that'd work. Arsé-kun: Mori: But did he ever say why? Sheepy: Yan: Something along the lines of... Sheepy: Yan: "The thing inside of me could kill each and every person in this household in the blink of an eye if it so pleased. I don't trust you with that." Arsé-kun: Mori: You know what? That's fair. Sheepy: Yan: But I'm pretty trustworthy. Sheepy: Yan: Anyway, that's a hint, isn't it? That means it's not human. Arsé-kun: Mori: It absolutely is not. I can confirm that much myself. Sheepy: Yan: What do you mean? Arsé-kun: Mori: I spoke to him about it myself. Sheepy: Yan: Huh. Arsé-kun: Mori: Well, let's just agree to try that out nowhere near civilization. But not now. Sheepy: Yan: Yeah, okay. Arsé-kun: Angra: *he looks up. he's cleaned up at least half the booze by himself. the void can take a lot of it, but he seems absolutely hammered based on being unable to stand up for a solid 20 seconds. Yan's leg is used for the assist.* Hey. Hey, bruh, you ever realize how fucked up we really are? Sheepy: Yan: What do you mean? Arsé-kun: Angra: We're all dead already n' shit! And, and then people, like.. *vague hand gestures* the dead people? Does this shit count as necrophilia? And no matter what we do, we're still dead, that's depressing as hell. Sheepy: Yan:....*he takes a rather large sip of his alcohol* Arsé-kun: Angra: I think I jus' gave myself depression. Sheepy: Yan: Good job. Arsé-kun: Angra: You've got like fifteen second opinions, how do I deal with this shit? Sheepy: Yan: What's that supposed to mean?? Sheepy: *Lobo has his snout in Yan's chip bag. Yan is too focused on Angra to notice* Arsé-kun: Angra: How do you, like, stop being depressed so the throne doesn't decide "Ooh that's canon now!" and force it on you every time you start to sort of exist? Sheepy: Yan: I dunno. Sheepy: *Yan absentmindedly goes to put his hand in the chip bag, only to touch Lobo instead* Sheepy: Yan: My chips are weirdly hairy. Arsé-kun: Angra: That's a dog. Sheepy: Yan: ...! Puppy, no, that's human food. Sheepy: Lobo: *he looks up at them, the chip bag on his snout. elegant* Arsé-kun: Angra: th' king of currenpaw, errybody. Sheepy: Yan: I don't really want it anymore. Arsé-kun: Angra: but dammit, I was hopin' for any sorta reply so I could complain at you. All like, "What, you have an answer? Who's you, where's the real Yan at?" Or somethin'. *he thinks he is funny. funny enough to laugh at. angra.* Sheepy: Yan:.... Arsé-kun: Angra: ... What? Sheepy: Yan: Who am I...? Arsé-kun: Mori: All right, that's quite enough of this. *he interrupts and blocks Angra, who may or may not have gotten smacked with a coffin* You're Yan Qing, and that isn't changing. Sheepy: Yan: I...I don't know...! Sheepy: Yan: If that's who I am...then why are they always here!? Why do they keep talking to me!? They're all me, aren't they? What even am I? Arsé-kun: Mori: A gigantic mess vaguely shaped like a human being, with an appreciation for women. Sheepy: Yan:....!? Sheepy: Lobo: *boof* Sheepy: Yan: Does that mean I'm human...or do I just look it...? Arsé-kun: Mori: You're more human than any present Avengers. Sheepy: Yan:....Ah....you're right. Arsé-kun: Mori: *he covers his mouth with one hand, slightly muffling his own voice* Earth to Assassin, are you still in there? Hello, hello? *he reaches up with his free hand to... ruffle Yan's hair. aw.* We are departing planet Meltdown for a return trip to Earth. Can you read, over? Sheepy: Yan:...? Sheepy: Yan: Wh...what...? Arsé-kun: Mori: Welcome back to Earth, Assassin. *he makes a radio static sound. krshhh* You were going straight for an endless loop of existential crisis. Sheepy: Yan: I...I'm sorry, I'm feeling better. Sheepy: Lobo: *he tilts his head. where did that noise come from* Arsé-kun: Mori: Don't apologize. *krshh* What outlaw apologizes for a minor inconvenience? *he finally uncovers his mouth. he does not, however, take his coffin off of Angra, who tried to move it at some point and it is now on top of him. He deserved it.* Sheepy: Lobo: *he tilts his head the other way* Sheepy: Yan: Thank you. Arsé-kun: Mori: Of course. Just don't make a deal of it. Reputation, you understand. Sheepy: Yan: Yes, I do. Arsé-kun: Mori: Then consider this moment of weakness ignored and discarded in exchange. Sheepy: Yan: Thank you. Sheepy: Yan: Puppy, you won't tell anyone, right? Arsé-kun: Mori: *he cups his hands over his mouth again to Krshh at Lobo. extreme teasing* Sheepy: Lobo: ????? Sheepy: Lobo: *he slowly lifts up a paw before ... slapping it over Yan's mouth* Sheepy: Yan: Puppy, why?! Sheepy: Lobo: ?!?!?! Arsé-kun rolled a die. The die showed: 6 Arsé-kun: Mori: *try not to laugh. succeed. Krshh at Lobo again with eye contact* Sheepy: Lobo: *he sniffs at Mori's hand. how is he doing this* Arsé-kun: *Mori holds his hands out for Lobo* Sheepy: Lobo: *he sniffs at both. why do they smell like chips* Arsé-kun: Mori: *he swats the chips off of Lobo's nose* Sheepy: Lobo:....! *what fell, what was that* Sheepy: Yan: *he's petting Lobo. big. fluffy* Arsé-kun: *Mink has opted to give this episode some space and started messaging Haku. Now she gets an update AND has to stop working for ten seconds. Tepes approves already. Two birds, one Gandr* Sheepy: Haku: [Text: to Mink] What is it? Arsé-kun: Mink: [text: to Haku] Issss it normal for ur Assass to just sorta uh, existential break for a minute? Sheepy: Haku: [Text: to Mink] Yes. Arsé-kun: Mink: [text: to Haku] oh. I thought that was a bad thing. I mean Mori.san dealt with it really fast,? But uh Arsé-kun: Mink: [text: to Haku] I remember the rules! Should I bring him back to you so that doesnt, again? Sheepy: Haku: [Text: to Mink] Yes, it's a bad thing, and... Sheepy: Haku: [Text: to Mink] Yes, please bring him. Arsé-kun: Mink: [text: to Haku] Ok!! 👌👌👌 I'll pull him off Lobo and we'll be there! Sheepy: Haku: [Text: to Mink] Thank You Arsé-kun: Mink: [text: to Haku] You're welcome, Haku, Miss! Be there soon!! Sheepy: Lobo: *he gently nudges Mori with his snout. he'll find the source of the noise eventually* Arsé-kun: Mori: Yes? Yes, what is it? Sheepy: Haku: [Text: to Mink] Ok Sheepy: Lobo: *he tilts his head* Arsé-kun: Minako: *she thinks about how she's going to go about this. What would Mephisto do? ... This is a very bad course of thinking and takes a few bad plans to reach a good one that does not require explosives.* Arsé-kun: Mori: *he grins at Lobo and... KRRSSHH!* Sheepy: Lobo:!!! Sheepy: *Lobo sniffs at Mori's face. where is it coming from* Arsé-kun: *the sound is coming from the Moriarty!* Sheepy: Lobo:...! *he looks excited! How is he doing that!?* Arsé-kun: Minako: Not to interrupt or anything, but hey, Assassin. If I pay, can I borrow you to help me get pizzas? :D c Sheepy: Yan: Mm? Oh, okay. Sheepy: Yan: Okay, Puppy, be good while I'm gone. Don't eat too much out of the garbage. Sheepy: Lobo: *he yawns in Yan's face* Arsé-kun: Minako: Cool, thanks! Here's the, uh, 'thanks for helping' start payment! *she hands Yan some cash and a few embers. mmm good shit* Sheepy: Yan: *he pockets them and gets up* Great, let's go! Arsé-kun: *Mori finally "notices" his coffin is on Angra and frees the poor bastard right before they Head Outtie. Chaldea, hoooo* Sheepy: Yan: So, what pizza are we getting? Arsé-kun: *Minako promptly goes OFF about pizza. Girl likes her pizza, and knows how everybody in her crew (except Sherlock) likes it! She will learn his order eventually and he'll damn like it* Sheepy: Yan: Huh. Arsé-kun: Minako: So anyway, you're helping, so I'll buy you some too. Sheepy: Yan: Oh, that's great! Sheepy: Yan: I like...actually, I don't really care what's on it. Sheepy: Yan: I like experimenting. Sheepy: Yan: There's no food I really hate so I'll accept anything. Arsé-kun: Minako: So we figure it out when we get there, gotcha! Sheepy: Yan: Yeah, just mess me up. Arsé-kun: Tepes: I'm just as capable of that. *he strolls in, grabs Yan, and goes to exit scene. oh.* Sheepy: Yan: OH? Arsé-kun: *But the most important part of any plan is improvising on the fly!!* Sheepy: Yan: But my pizza! Arsé-kun: Minako: Oh, no, my pizza buddy! *and she "chases" after Tepes, at the speed of a brisk walk, maybe even, if she's daring, a jog.* Arsé-kun: Tepes: I found him, dear. It was far less trying than I expected. Sheepy: Haku: Thank you. Sheepy: Yan: I've been tricked, betrayed! Arsé-kun: Tepes: ..? Sheepy: Yan: That's why I was dragged out, out of the comfort of Puppy's fur! Arsé-kun: Minako: My evil plot's been foiled! *she catches up* I was really going to give you pizza, too! Sheepy: Yan: Pizza... Sheepy: Yan: Why did you want me, Tepes? Sheepy: Yan: Oh, oh! My dashing good looks and charming smile havs finally gotten to you! Hehe! Arsé-kun: Tepes: I was only informed of the 'Bringing you here' portion of this so called "evil plot". ... And I'm still straight. Sheepy: Yan: Oh!? So it's not that after all? Arsé-kun: Tepes: If it's ever that, assume I am completely broken and most likely need to be put down. Sheepy: Yan: You're so cruel... Sheepy: Yan: What about you, Haku?! Sheepy: Haku: No. Sheepy: Yan: Oh...such a quick response... Sheepy: Yan: But, like, I'm attractive, aren't I? Arsé-kun: Caligula: roma Arsé-kun: *thank you for your input, caligula. it is very useful.* Sheepy: Yan: See, Caligula agrees. Sheepy: Haku: Hmm. Arsé-kun: Minako: I already paid him to help with my pizza run..! Can we get that out of the way at least? Sheepy: Haku: Go ahead. Sheepy: Gawain: I want pizza, too. Sheepy: Yan: Oh! Great! You can buy it! Arsé-kun: Cali: *pizza run? run? running? olympic running? greeks? romans? roma? roma!* *with this incredible stretch of logic and wisdom, Caligula decides to grab Yan and exit the scene at a high speed. Goodbye. it is pizza run time.* Sheepy: Gawain: And there they go. Sheepy: Haku: Oh, that frightens me. Arsé-kun: Minako: ... Uh, okay. I'm glad I told him the order at least? Sheepy: Haku: That's fortunate. Arsé-kun: Minako: I hope he remembers it? Sheepy: Gawain: But he didn't get mine. Sheepy: Yan: [text: to Mink] Like 15 cheeses huh Arsé-kun: Mink: ..... ..... He did not. Sheepy: Gawain: But my order. Arsé-kun: *mink carefully types out the entire thing, clearly, in list format, edited for clarity and spelling, and then pauses* Arsé-kun: Minako: I'll add it in, what'cha want, Sir? Sheepy: Gawain: I like pineapple pizza. Arsé-kun: Minako: Okay! *she adds that in and sends it off. no judgement, surprisingly* Sheepy: Gawain: I can give you the equivalent in flowers. *he laughs* I do have money, though, so I'll pay you for mine. Sheepy: Gawain: *he takes out his wallet* But you should visit my flower shop. I'll give you a discount. Arsé-kun: Minako: Oooh! I'll have to stop by later then! :Dc Sheepy: Gawain: Yeah! Arsé-kun: Minako: But uh... Yeah, Probably should have stopped that whole thing from happening. Sorry about that! Sheepy: Haku: I understand. Arsé-kun: Minako: Am... I allowed to ask about all that, or is that a patient confidence thing? Arsé-kun: Minako: Cuz, uhm.. Moriarty-san dealt with it really fast, like it's a thing we should know about? Sheepy: Haku: Oh. Sheepy: Haku: He's not a full servant. Sheepy: Haku: He's mixed with a phantom, Doppelganger Arsé-kun: Minako: So like... A second of himself? Sheepy: Haku: Of everyone he's killed. Arsé-kun: Minako: And that's... A lot? Sheepy: Haku: It allows him to transform into anyone, but the voices of his victims remain. Sheepy: Haku: Yes. Arsé-kun: Minako: Yikes. Good thing he's with you then, I guess? Sheepy: Gawain: He's always eyeing the same women I am, so if your plan is to let him stay with them... Sheepy: Gawain: Oh, I should ask him for the phone number he got. Arsé-kun: Tepes: That is your priority? Sheepy: Gawain: What should my priority be? Arsé-kun: Tepes: Not phone numbers of randoms you haven't met yourself. Sheepy: Gawain: Well, do you have any better ideas? Arsé-kun: Tepes: Meet people yourself? Sheepy: Gawain: I do, but usually only for one night. Arsé-kun: Tepes: Go directly to church, do not pass go. Do not collect 200 dollars. Sheepy: Gawain: Oh, it's not as though I don't still love my wife. Sheepy: Gawain: However, now that I'm a servant, I can have fun, maybe find a new wife in the process. Arsé-kun: Tepes: .... Fair enough. Sheepy: Gawain: You're no different. Sheepy: Gawain: I just choose different tactics. More bold tactics. Arsé-kun: Minako: ... Hey, I just caught something. What'd you mean 'Let him stay with them'?? Sheepy: Gawain: Well, if Moriarty helps him a lot, wouldn't it be better if he stayed with Moriarty? Arsé-kun: Minako: Makes sense, but he isn't mine? Sheepy: Gawain: He could be. Arsé-kun: Minako: Moriarty isn't mine, I mean! I've got objections about Yan but.. Wait, he doesn't live here? Sheepy: Haku: He bums off of everyone here, but especially us. Arsé-kun: Minako: So he does! He said he didn't! Sheepy: Haku: He's not my Servant, but he likes Tepes, Caligula, and me. He also likes both our and Gawain's food. Sheepy: Haku: That's usually why he's seen with me. Sheepy: Gawain:...Hey, hold on... Sheepy: Gawain: You forgot me in that first list. Sheepy: Haku: But anyway, who is Moriarty's master? How close do they live to you? Arsé-kun: Minako: My neighbor, and my neighbor. Sheepy: Haku: I don't know. You or your neighbor might be best with taking him, but he'd probably end up staying here just as often as he already does. Sheepy: Haku: He's a part of different clubs and has close friends who live here. Arsé-kun: Minako: I don't think that'd be a problem. I mean, some of mine come here two or three times a week already. Sheepy: Haku: That's good. Sheepy: Haku: Are you fine with this? We'll need to ask him when he gets back. Arsé-kun: Minako: I'm fine with it! Sheepy: Haku: Good. Sheepy: Gawain: I get more chances at women this way. Thanks for that. Arsé-kun: *Tepes pinches the bridge of his nose. Jesus Christ.* Sheepy: Gawain: You need to learn how to have more fun in life. Arsé-kun: Tepes: I can have fun without shamelessly flirting with every woman I spot, thank you. Sheepy: Gawain: I have an idea! Sheepy: Gawain: You can go out with me next time. Arsé-kun: Tepes: Why not take Caligula? You'll look far better next to him. Sheepy: Gawain: I'd look far better next to you, too. Arsé-kun: Tepes: I'm detecting an insult. Sheepy: Gawain: I'd never. Arsé-kun: Tepes: And if you have realized, what you have said also translates to "Hey, vampire, come out at night surrounded by a lot of people." Please spot the problem. Sheepy: Gawain: Oh, I forgot you were a vampire. Arsé-kun: Tepes: For now, I'll respectfully decline your offer, unless you come across a daytime event. Then I may consider it. Sheepy: Gawain: I can arrange for it to be a daytime event. Arsé-kun: Tepes: No, no. Sheepy: Gawain: Why? Arsé-kun: Tepes: Don't force others' to plan around me. Sheepy: Gawain: Well, alright. Arsé-kun: Cali: PIZZA! *thank you for your announcement, Caligula. He is carrying... Two boxes. Out of how much?* Sheepy: Gawain: I hope one is pineapple! Sheepy: Yan: Tepes! Gawain! I'm dying! Arsé-kun: Tepes: It's just a few boxes. Are you a Heroic Spirit, or some kind of mouse? Sheepy: Yan: It's HOT!! Sheepy: Yan: ...But not as hot as me- AaaaAAAA DON'T FALL!! Sheepy: Gawain: He stole my line...he has to go. Arsé-kun: Tepes: *he moves in for the Assist. he's help* Arsé-kun: Cali: pizza Sheepy: Yan: You could've helped, Caligula. Arsé-kun: Cali: Rgh? *he puts down his boxes* ?? Sheepy: Yan: You left me with everything else.. Arsé-kun: Cali: *he takes the stack from Yan and puts it down. He has now helped. Confused thumbs up.* Sheepy: Yan: Owowow...it was so hot! Sheepy: Gawain: Like- Sheepy: Yan: Like me. Arsé-kun: Tepes: Stop. Sheepy: Yan: But who else will say it if not me? Arsé-kun: Tepes: Anyone else with an ego over ten. Sheepy: Yan: But comic relief is one of my defining character traits. Arsé-kun: *Tepes opts out of giving this a response.* Arsé-kun: Minako: Anyway! You've made it this far! A bit more and we're home! With pizza! Arsé-kun: *she is eyeing the pizza boxes already. mm. pizz.* Sheepy: Yan: You're right. Arsé-kun: Minako: You can stay too, if you want! Sheepy: Yan: Huh? Arsé-kun: Minako: I mean, you're over enough! Sheepy: Yan: ....! Arsé-kun: Minako: I'm pretty sure nobody hates you on my end, and considering who I've got, that's impressive! Sheepy: Yan: Thank you...! Arsé-kun: Minako: You're welcome!!! Arsé-kun: Mephisto: What're you doin', Master? Dating a boy? *how long has he been there, in the doorway?* Without me, even?? *he's kidding, I hope.* Sheepy: Yan: What? Arsé-kun: Minako: Please, no. *she is unfazed by 100% of that. She knew he was there.* I won't stop you though! Go forth and be gay, and merry, and help us bring home pizza. Arsé-kun: *Mephisto considers this, and promptly fucks off. Oh.* Arsé-kun: Minako: ... So I'm still paying you in full I guess, Assassin! Sheepy: Yan: Oh, for what? Arsé-kun: Minako: For... Carrying pizza?? Sheepy: Yan:...Great! Arsé-kun: *OK enough dicking around, they're gonna get home eventually, with the pizza, and Yan gets paid right before that. cash fuckin' money* Sheepy: Holmes: Oh, it's pizza. Arsé-kun: Mephisto: Yeah, it is! Did you think I was making it up? Sheepy: Holmes: No, I didn't. Sheepy: Holmes: I hope you enjoy it. I'll be passing, of course. Arsé-kun: Minako: Eh? Sheepy: Holmes: I'm not hungry currently. Arsé-kun: Proto: It's pizza time, hurry! Dibs, I call first dibs! *and he zips in, nearly faceplanting into the table. gg idiot* Sheepy: Holmes: That's the benefit of being a Servant. Arsé-kun: Minako: Fair enough, but if you want some later, there might not be any! Sheepy: Holmes: I don't have an interest in it, and Watson would kill me if he found me eating it. Arsé-kun: Minako: What's he gonna do to you? Hit you for resisted damage? Sheepy: Holmes: Nag me. Arsé-kun: Minako: Is nagging strong against Rulers? Sheepy: Holmes: Perhaps. Arsé-kun: Minako: I'll have to try that later! Sheepy: Holmes: For what reason? Arsé-kun: Minako: For science? Sheepy: Holmes: I'd rather you didn't. Sheepy: Gil: *he huffs* Mongrel food again? Arsé-kun: Minako: You're gonna eat it anyway. Sheepy: Kogil: I like pep- Sheepy: Gil: Pepperoni is garbage, pup. Sheepy: Gil: Cheese is better. Arsé-kun: Minako: Thank you for your opinions, kings! I didn't ask! Sheepy: Gil: Hah, if he wants to be a king, he needs to know how a king thinks. Arsé-kun: Lance: ... A king thinks "Is this edible?" and then eats it. Immediately, without comment. Sheepy: Gil: That's how a peasant thinks. Arsé-kun: Lance: ... No, you. *he's got no witty comebacks, and glances towards Yan* ..? Sheepy: Yan: Hi hi! I'm living here now. Sheepy: Yan: I don't know why but that's what's been decided. Arsé-kun: Lance: Aaah? That is.. It's something. Unexpected? Sheepy: Yan: Actually, Gawain was cheering in his own way. Arsé-kun: Lance: Git. Sheepy: Yan: Huh? Sheepy: Yan: He's burly and looks like a football player so he's not really attractive. He asks me for phone numbers often. Sheepy: Yan: So he probably thinks he got rid of competition. Arsé-kun: Lance: He still..? ... GorrRRrrilla morrron. Sheepy: Yan: I don't get why. Sheepy: Yan: I just like talking to pretty people, and I like it even more when they compliment me. Sheepy: Yan: But Gawain sees me as competition... Arsé-kun: Lance: Everrryone is competition... Don't worry about ittt.. Sheepy: Yan: Even you? Arsé-kun: Lance: I hope nooot. Sheepy: Yan: Are men in armor hot nowadays? Sheepy: Holmes: Depending on the temperature, yes. Arsé-kun: Jekyll: You've made Hyde very happy with that answer. I don't have to say it now, thank you. Sheepy: Holmes: You're welcome. Arsé-kun: Jekyll: And thank you for dinner, Master. You too, Assassin. Sheepy: Yan: No problem. Arsé-kun: Minako: Of course! Sheepy: Lobo: *he struts in and flops over dramatically onto Lance* Arsé-kun: Lance: Nooooooooonnn! *he tries to get out from under Lobo* Sheepy: Lobo: *whine* Sheepy: Yan: Puppy! Sheepy: *...Despite his whining, Lobo's tail is wagging. He's very aware of his manipulation and is happy about it.* Arsé-kun: *Lance does not escape. He accepts his fate to starve.* Sheepy: Yan: Puppy, you can have my pizza if you get off of him. Sheepy: Lobo: *he gives Yan a suspicious look* Sheepy: *Lobo hesitantly gets off of Lance* Arsé-kun: *Lancelot is dead. Not really. But he's already committed.* Sheepy: Gil: A king doesn't beg. He demands. Sheepy: Lobo: *he turns to Gil before...eating his slice of pizza.* Arsé-kun: Medusa: I don't know what you expected. Sheepy: Gil: Not that! How dare him! Arsé-kun: Andersen: Just take another, your highness. And while you're up there, pass me a plate. Sheepy: Gil: *he huffs, but surprisingly does so* Arsé-kun: Andersen: Thank you. You're spared. Sheepy: Gil: Be grateful, mongrel! Arsé-kun: Andersen: I am. Sheepy: Gil: Fuhahaha! Excellent! Arsé-kun: Andersen: So what? Is this uncertain jeste- Arsé-kun: Mephisto: Hey, wait. Sheepy: Yan: Huh? Arsé-kun: Andersen: You're a piece of shit, not a jester. Anyway, is this uncertain tall drink of water and booze staying with us now? Sheepy: Yan: Me? Arsé-kun: Andersen: Yes, you. Sheepy: Yan: Yeah, that's apparently the case. Arsé-kun: Andersen: Finally, an assassin that keeps their class. It's about time. Sheepy: Yan: Yeah! Sorta. Arsé-kun: Andersen: More than Twit and Twat over here. Good enough. Sheepy: Yan: Great! Sheepy: Holmes: You're only missing Avenger, R..ider, you do have a rider... Arsé-kun: Medusa: Do you have eyes? Sheepy: Holmes: Exactly two, no more. Arsé-kun: Medusa: Do they both work? Do you need a hint from the peanut gallery? Arsé-kun: *she's genuinely asking, that's not sarcasm* Sheepy: Holmes: I'm aware you're a rider. Arsé-kun: Medusa: Then what is missing? Avenger and what? Sheepy: Holmes: Hmmm? Sheepy: Holmes: Did I say there were two missing? Sheepy: Holmes: I only meant Avenger. Sheepy: Holmes: Ah, of course ... Sheepy: Holmes: We're also missing, of the special classes, Shielder, Alter Ego, Moon Cancer...yes, that's it. Arsé-kun: Minako: And let's maybe not get that last one. Sheepy: Holmes: Right. Sheepy: Emiya: ....*he raises his eyebrows* Arsé-kun: Andersen: Skip Alter Ego. They're all extremely difficult in different ways. Sheepy: Holmes: That's understandable. Arsé-kun: Jekyll: And the single Shielder belongs to Chaldea. We'd have to pass. Sheepy: Emiya: What about Foreigner? Arsé-kun: Minako: ...?? *she's got her mouth full* ???? Sheepy: Holmes: *he forces a smile* I don't know of it. Arsé-kun: Andersen: .... ..... Arsé-kun: Minako: What's foreigner? That new? Sheepy: Emiya: Ah, Master. Based on what I've heard, the Foreigner class is a recently discovered class. Arsé-kun: Minako: That's kinda exciting! What do they do? Sheepy: Emiya: As the name implies, it consists of hosts of otherworldly beings. Sheepy: Emiya: Berserkers do very little to them. Arsé-kun: Minako: Berserkers... I don't like that very much. Sheepy: Emiya: They, meanwhile, easily slaughter Berserkers. Be careful. Sheepy: Holmes:.... Arsé-kun: Minako: Noted. Thanks, Emiya-san. Sheepy: Holmes: (What do we do?) Arsé-kun: Holmes?: (...? We're doing something? Why?) Sheepy: Holmes: (It's clear Andersen suspects us.) Arsé-kun: Holmes?: (Who?) Sheepy: Holmes: (The one with blue hair and glasses.) Arsé-kun: Holmes?: (... Why are you asking me..? My answer is always 'flatten it') Sheepy: Holmes: (...Right, thanks.) Arsé-kun: Holmes?: (You're... Welcome?) Sheepy: Holmes: You might want to try to find one to deal with Berserkers, then. Arsé-kun: Minako: But we can hit Berserkers with anything. Sheepy: Holmes: But they do extra damage in turn. Arsé-kun: Minako: Ehhh.. *she shrugs* Bomb 'em and run like hell, I guess. Sheepy: Holmes: I see. Arsé-kun: Holmes?: (I don't!) Sheepy: Holmes: (I know) Sheepy: Holmes: (But you have my eyes.) Arsé-kun: Holmes?: (It helps a lot!) Sheepy: Holmes: (I'm glad.) Arsé-kun: *Hans continues to be suspicious. Nothing has changed. But thankfully, he's the only one. Maybe?* Sheepy: Holmes:..... Arsé-kun: Andersen: ...... Sheepy: Holmes: Did you have something you wanted to ask me? Arsé-kun: Andersen: I did. Sheepy: Holmes: What is it? Arsé-kun: Andersen: *he scribbles something down on a napkin, folds it, and passes it over.* That. Sheepy: Holmes: *he reads it* Arsé-kun: *All it says is "I won't say anything, Sir." There's a bad thumbs up emoji next to it. "Why do you look more introspective than Henry when Hyde's being a bitch?"* Sheepy: Holmes: *he writes something down and passes it back* Arsé-kun: Andersen: *he takes it and opens it* Sheepy: *"I have a companion of my own, who happens to be relevant currently."* Arsé-kun: Andersen: ... *he nods to Sherlock and pockets the napkin* Sheepy: Gil: What am I missing? Sheepy: Gil: I don't care but I don't appreciate secrets being hid from me. Arsé-kun: Andersen: We're talking shit about Mr. Twat. Sheepy: Gil: Oh, I really don't care then. Arsé-kun: Andersen: I knew you had it in you. Sheepy: Gil: What? Arsé-kun: Andersen: Doesn't a great king not care what the peasants say? Sheepy: Kogil: He cares because it's his job to serve his people. Arsé-kun: Andersen: So I can't call him a nosy bitch and move on with my life? What a shame. Sheepy: Kogil: Huh? Oh, no, he is. Sheepy: Gil: Oh...you... Sheepy: Gil: You...! Arsé-kun: Andersen: .... ... You weren't supposed to agree with me. I enjoy living. Sheepy: Kogil: Curiosity is what makes us human. Sheepy: Kogil: Unfortunately, being nosy is being a little too curious. Arsé-kun: Medusa: So what's that make the floating cupcake? *he points up to Mephisto, who looks more amused than insulted* A moron? Sheepy: Kogil: Humanity isn't something you're born with. Sheepy: Kogil: It's something you achieve. Sheepy: Kogil: Anyone can become human. They just have to want to try. Sheepy: Gil: Why would they want to? Arsé-kun: Medusa: It's better than being a beast. Sheepy: Gil: Hah. It's true. Arsé-kun: Medusa: Most things are better than that, though. It's kind of a low bar. Arsé-kun: Jekyll: *he shifts a bit closer to Yan, getting out of Lance's way* ... It's nice to have another Assassin on board. We get pressured beyond belief against Riders, haha.. Sheepy: Yan: That really sounds like a problem. Sheepy: Yan: But worry not! I have experience with Riders. Sheepy: Yan: Like Puppy used to be a Rider. Weren't you, Puppy? Sheepy: Lobo: *he lifts his head up from sniffing at Lance and blinks at Yan* Arsé-kun: Jekyll: Was he? I would understand if his, well, rider was, but he himself? Sheepy: Yan: They act as one unit. Sheepy: Yan: But he isn't three phantoms combined into one. Sheepy: Yan: Those are just the three who survived. Sheepy: Yan: Lobo ate the rest to gain their powers, which is how he ended up an Avenger. Sheepy: Yan: But before that, they were just the Rider class. Sheepy: Yan: Kind of like Kintoki's motorcycle. He is the rider, but without his motorcycle, can he really be called one? It's the motorcycle that defines him as a Rider, and therefore, it's a part of his identity as a Rider. Simply, it too could be considered part of the Rider class. Sheepy: Yan: However, it couldn't be summoned without Kintoki, because its identity isn't well known. Likewise, Kintoki couldn't be summoned within the Rider class without his motorcycle. Similarly, Lobo couldn't be summoned without his rider nor Jack, which could be said for the other two. Arsé-kun: Jekyll: I understand entirely. Sheepy: Yan: That's the situation Old Man and I have as well. Arsé-kun: Jekyll: Let me see if I got this straight. Arsé-kun: Jekyll: It's like trying to summon me without Hyde, or Hyde without me. Without the other, neither of us are worth much. Sheepy: Yan: Mostly. Sheepy: Yan: We couldn't survive without our partner. Sheepy: Yan: Our presence isn't strong enough. We're just phantoms. Arsé-kun: Jekyll: I'd believe it still applies, honestly. At least to me. Sheepy: Yan: But even little droplets of rain add up to a flood. Sheepy: Yan: So when enough phantoms come together... Sheepy: Yan: Our power is such of a Heroic Spirit's. Sheepy: Yan: So very similar to your situation. Sheepy: Yan: But while you two come from the same source, we get merged with strangers. Sheepy: Yan: Really, the one who intimidates me in that respect is Old Man. The whole thing about his partner phantom's story is hurting the one you love unintentionally. Sheepy: Yan: Lobo's just many hateful spirits in one, and I'm not of much interest in that respect. Arsé-kun: Jekyll: *he thinks about this.* I... "I" want to know now, but I think if you've got no interest in talking about it, then lets pass it by. Arsé-kun: Jekyll: But could that be why he and Sherlock haven't knocked the walls down yet? Arsé-kun: Jekyll: Because if he comes to care for Sherlock, the bullets might target him? Sheepy: Yan: I don't think so. Sheepy: Yan: I think they're mutually using each other to some extent, and... Arsé-kun: Jekyll: ... And? Sheepy: Yan: Look at it this way. Let's say they fought, and that cursed bullet was accidentally shot. Sheepy: Yan: Who do you think it would hit? Arsé-kun: Jekyll: ... Ah, I see what you were saying. Mutual avoidance. Sheepy: Yan: It's too dangerous for someone in that situation to fight unnecessarily. Sheepy: Yan: I'm sure Holmes recognizes that too. Arsé-kun: Jekyll: Oh, certainly. Arsé-kun: Medusa: You two can just ask him. He's right here. Or is this normal Assassin business? Sheepy: Yan: Yeah, it's normal Assassin business. Sheepy: Yan: It's an exclusive club. Sheepy: Yan: But yeah, that's all I've got. Arsé-kun: Jekyll: I suppose I'll keep it in mind. And try to keep it in "his" too. Sheepy: Yan: Great! Arsé-kun: Minako: Oh, and thanks for behaving this time, everybody! *she lifts up her hand. two command seals have Returned* I'm glad we didn't need to enact violence! Sheepy: Gil: Hah, I could take them if I so pleased. Arsé-kun: Minako: I can take your controllers if I pleased, so what? Sheepy: Gil: I could buy new ones. Arsé-kun: Minako: And while you're gone, hide everything else. Sheepy: Gil:.....My POINT is that you have no control over me. Arsé-kun: Minako: Ok. Sheepy: Gil: Kuhahahaha! You see now, how powerless you are against me, mongrel! Sheepy: Gil: Be grateful! Sheepy: Gil: I have decided to allow you to put on this charade still! Arsé-kun: Minako: Thank you so much for your opinions! They're worth money I think. Sheepy: Gil: Kuhahahaha! Of course! Sheepy: Gil: And you're getting it for free! Sheepy: Gil: Be grateful, mongrel! Arsé-kun: Minako: I'm a bit more grateful for not living on the street, but thanks anyway! Sheepy: Gil: You're welcome. Sheepy: *later, at night!*      Sheepy: --- Drip.  Drip.  Drip. The rain was falling harshly upon Bedivere and Lucan as they carried their king to safety.  They barely recognized its uncomfortable sogginess as they slowly persevered.  Bedivere was barely conscious of his surroundings until he heard his brother let out a soft, pained groan. “...Lucan, you should rest.  I can carry him on my own.” “Don’t worry, I’m fine... it’s just a bit more, isn’t it?”  Lucan smiled, but Bedivere couldn’t focus on that. Bright red droplets caught his eye - a sight he had seen regularly that day. Drip.  Drip.  Drip. Blood was pooling from Lucan’s body. but his smile didn’t fade.  He couldn’t let it fade.  No, his king needed him.  His brother needed him.  Once he loses his smile, he loses everything. “Lucan... you’re bleeding.” “I’ve had worse,” Lucan laughed, cut off midway by a sharp pain within him that shook him to his core.  But he has to keep smiling.  He needs to. Drip.  Drip.  Drip. Thud. ”LUCAN!” Lucan couldn’t summon the strength to respond.  It felt as though his insides had just exploded.  His brother’s screams were just background noises as things grew dark, leaving Bedivere alone with his king. “LUCAN...!” Bedivere shot up from his bed, still crying out his brother’s name.  The only response he received was the light rain outside. Drip.  Drip.  Drip. Bedivere used to love the rain.  Now all it reminds him of is his failure as a knight. --- Arsé-kun: *Good morning, Bedivere! It is, in fact, lightly raining. According to Merlin's pink digital clock, it is approximately 4:30 AM.* Arsé-kun: *Also of note is Merlin's apparent absence, which is a mystery easily solved. Idiot fell off the bed. The Grand Caster, everybody.* Sheepy: *Bedi looks over at Merlin and contemplates waking him to get him off of the floor* Arsé-kun: *Merlin certainly isn't taking any action to deal with this.* Sheepy: *Bedi gets out of bed and gently shakes Merlin* Sheepy: Bedi: Ummm... Arsé-kun: Merlin: ..... Aye..? Sheepy: Bedi: You're sleeping on the floor. Arsé-kun: Merlin: ... So I was... *He slowly sits up and blinks himself into at least some alertness.* ... Why AM I on the floor..? Sheepy: Bedi: I probably shoved you off, but maybe you rolled off. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I don't feel sore, so probably did it myself. Oopsies!~ :P c Sheepy: Bedi: I'd recommend not sleeping on the floor. Arsé-kun: Merlin: You're right. But why are you down here with me? Sheepy: Bedi: I, uh, I woke up from a nightmare. Arsé-kun: Merlin: *he immediately looks concerned* Are you okay? Sheepy: Bedi: It's no problem! I'm fine. Arsé-kun: Merlin: If you say so.. Are you coming back to bed? Sheepy: Bedi: I think I'm up for the night. Sheepy: Bedi: It's difficult to sleep through the rain. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Aww. Well, hopefully it'll stop soon, for your sake. Sheepy: Bedi: Thank you. I'll be fine. This is normal. Arsé-kun: Merlin: That's what worries me. *he pats Bedi's shoulder, then drags himself up and back onto the bed. Ugh. MOVING. What a CHORE.* Sheepy: Bedi: There's no need to worry. It's normal, so I'm used to it. Arsé-kun: Merlin: That's why I'm worried!! You're going to go Stockholm on your own nightmares.. Sheepy: Bedi:....? Arsé-kun: Merlin: ... I'll tell you in the morning. Sheepy: Bedi: *he forces a smile* Thank you. I'll try to remember in case you forget. Arsé-kun: Merlin: 'Welcome. *he rolls over and pulls the blanket back up.* Sheepy: Bedi: Good night. Arsé-kun: Merlin: 'Ight. Sheepy: Bedi: *he waits for a bit before heading out of the room to find something to do* Arsé-kun: *It's quiet. But not too quiet. This is not a horror film.* Sheepy: Bedi: *is anyone up?* Arsé-kun: *Well, the vampires and Rider, playing a silent game of cards. Vlad looks #done* Sheepy: Lobo: *he is looking at the cards blankly* Sheepy: Lobo: *he looks up and begins snarling* Arsé-kun: Vlad: ...? Sheepy: Bedi: I'm sorry for interrupting. Sheepy: Bedi: I was just looking for something to do. Arsé-kun: Vlad: Ah, that is fine. Do you wish to join us? Sheepy: Bedi: I'm not very good at cards, but... Arsé-kun: Vlad: You do not have to be. Sheepy: Bedi: Then I'd like to join. Arsé-kun: Vlad: Pull up a seat. We're only playing go fish. Sheepy: Bedi: *he pulls up a seat and sits at the table* Arsé-kun: *Vlad deals him a hand and the game continues* Sheepy: Lobo: *he flops over on the ground partway through the game* Arsé-kun: *His cards are distributed accordingly* Sheepy: Bedi: This reminds me of the games I used to play with my fellow knights. Sheepy: Bedi: Some of us were more competitive than others, such as... Sheepy: Bedi:...Sir Lancelot and Sir Gawain. Sheepy: Bedi: Meanwhile, Sir Tristan would fall asleep, on the opposite side of the spectrum. Arsé-kun: Vlad: I'm rather glad this Lancelot does not join us, then. This is not meant to be competitive. Sheepy: Bedi: Yes, I agree. Although...I doubt the Berserker would act that way Sheepy: Bedi: However, Saber... Arsé-kun: Vlad: ... I would fear for our quiet evenings. Sheepy: Bedi: Yes, our games would get intense very quickly. Arsé-kun: Vlad: Amadeus would have our heads. Sheepy: Bedi: ...However, I would be lying if I said I didn't miss those days. ... Ah, Mozart.... Sheepy: Bedi:...He probably already wants my head. Sheepy: Bedi: I'm sorry if my shouting bothered you. Arsé-kun: Vlad: Not at all. Sheepy: Bedi: I'm happy to hear that. Sheepy: Lobo: *he has turned his attention to chewing on a squeaky toy* Arsé-kun: Vlad: ... This is why. Sheepy: Bedi: Poor Mozart... Arsé-kun: *Suddenly flying down the stairs and whizzing past the table is what looks like a football. Lobo! Get the football!* Sheepy: Lobo: *he launches at the football and grabs it with his teeth* Arsé-kun: *No more squeaky noises!* Sheepy: Lobo: *he plops down on the ground next to Vlad and continues chewing on the football* Arsé-kun: Mozart: How utterly awful that was! *he has arrived downstairs* Sheepy: Bedi: I apologize for my shouting. Arsé-kun: Mozart: That's quite fine. It isn't something you can help. Squeaky toys at 3 am, however... *he shoots Lobo a dirty glare* Sheepy: Lobo: *he ignores Mozart in favor of focusing on the football* Arsé-kun: Mozart: *he snatches up the squeaky toy, and goes to exit after a quick little wave. goodbye mozart* Sheepy: Lobo: *he looks up and blinks. where did his squeaky toy go* Arsé-kun: *it vanished! (thank god)* Sheepy: Lobo: *he stands up and starts sniffing around. does Vlad have it?* Arsé-kun: *Vlad holds his hands up. He does not have it!* Sheepy: Lobo: *he sniffs at Vlad's hands* Arsé-kun: *no toy! Vlad pats his nose though* Sheepy: Lobo: *he nuzzles Vlad in response* Arsé-kun: *good shit op* Sheepy: Bedi: I feel like I should be doing something of importance, being up this late. Arsé-kun: Vlad: It does often feel that way, doesn't it? But perhaps there is. Sheepy: Bedi: There's something I should be doing... Arsé-kun: Vlad: Perhaps, perhaps not. Sheepy: Bedi: What do you think it could be? Arsé-kun: Vlad: I would have no idea. Why don't you take a walk around the halls? It's unlikely you'll be interrupted. Sheepy: Bedi: Oh! Good idea. Arsé-kun: Vlad: And while you do that.. Carmilla? Shall we go out and get lunch? Sheepy: Carmilla: Yeah, sure. Arsé-kun: Vlad: Great, because I was going to go no matter the answer. Sheepy: Carmilla: Wow. Arsé-kun: Vlad: We'd better get going, then, before it gets light out. Sheepy: Carmilla: Yeah. Arsé-kun: *spoop patrol exits scene.* Sheepy: *Bedi, meanwhile, is walking through the halls* Arsé-kun: *It's dark. It's quiet. It's kinda nice, but also a little bit spooky.* Sheepy: *Bedi doesn't mind it.* Arsé-kun: *Thankfully his eyes have adjusted to the darkness, so he can see where he is going. Only the furthest parts of the hall are hard to see, and for some reason a nearby doorway. Maybe it's just the angle he's on.* Sheepy: Bedi:....? Sheepy: *Bedi goes to investigate* Arsé-kun: *It's very dark, even up close. Like, super dark. This isn't normal darkness. This is ADVANCED DARKNESS!* Sheepy: Bedi: *he slowly puts out Airgetlam to touch it* Arsé-kun: *It, strangely enough, shrinks back from his hand. Scared darkness? That's weird.* Sheepy: Bedi:...Hello? Arsé-kun: *The darkness doesn't answer back. This is.. Probably a good thing?* Sheepy: Bedi: Huh. Sheepy: Bedi: I was expecting more of a response...what is this? Sheepy: *Bedi begins poking at it with Airgetlam* Arsé-kun: *It continues retreating, and shrinking. Bedi can now see some of the room. It's nothing special.* Sheepy: Bedi: If only I had a flashlight. Sheepy: Bedi:.... Sheepy: Bedi:.....*he looks to Airgetlam* Sheepy: Bedi: Airgetlam, switch on! *Airgetlam shines brightly!* Arsé-kun: *Some of the room is instantly lit up! The rest is.. Still pitch black. As I said before, this is ADVANCED DARKNESS* Sheepy: Bedi:...! Sheepy: Bedi: *he pokes at it again* Arsé-kun: *The shadows retreat a bit more than they had prior, with a bit of a... Whine? It was something.* Sheepy: Bedi: Oh! It's alive! Sheepy: Bedi: Hello? Arsé-kun: *It eventually stops shrinking, leaving a ball of shadow on the sofa. But no answer.* Sheepy: Bedi: *he gently shakes it* Arsé-kun: *There's a very quiet but distressed "Go awayyy..!" from the shadows, which shift away before becoming a tighter ball.* Sheepy: Bedi: ....? Sheepy: Bedi: I apologize, it's just... Sheepy: Bedi: You...were kind of...um.. Sheepy: Bedi:...well. You piqued my curiosity. Arsé-kun: ?: Dooon't...! *They recoil away from Bedi, despite him not touching them this time.* Jus' kill me and get it over with...! Sheepy: Bedi: Huh? I won't hurt you! Sheepy: Bedi: It's okay. Everything is fine. I'll stand back until you feel comfortable with me approaching, okay? Arsé-kun: ?: ... always do, it's... fault, it's my fault, it's my fault, it's my f*They hiccup really quietly* why why why why why why why whyyyyy*hic*yyyyy..? Sheepy: Bedi: ...? Sheepy: Bedi: What is? Arsé-kun: ?: ... ... .nnn... Arsé-kun: ?: ...... not the carving tools againnnnn... ... anything but... Arsé-kun: *His voice slowly gets louder as he pleads with an unseen enemy, begging them not to hurt him again. It culminates in screaming and violently thrashing up off the sofa- most likely hitting Bedivere (but doing little to no actual damage)- before coming to a stop hanging off of the sofa and panting heavily. Despite all of this, he hasn't actually woken himself up entirely.* Arsé-kun: *As well, now that he has stopped being curled up into a ball, he's now recognizable as Angra (if he wasn't before.)* Sheepy: Bedi: It's okay, it's okay. No one will hurt you here. Arsé-kun: Angra: ... ...? *he slightly looks up at Bedi* ... Sheepy: Bedi: I'm sorry for waking you. However... Arsé-kun: Angra: ... *he blinks, and pauses before jumping up onto the back of the sofa. A very delayed reaction.* H-how long have you been here?? Sheepy: Bedi: Not for too long. Arsé-kun: Angra: *he groans and flops back down* Great, cool! Now my traumatic backstory is out in the wild! Grrrrreat! *he is not pleased.* Sheepy: Bedi: You were having a nightmare, although I didn't realize that at first. *he smiles* Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Sheepy: Bedi: I was just worried about you, so I stayed with you. Sheepy: Bedi: If I encounter you in such a state in the future, I could get you a blanket and leave you be instead if you would so prefer. Arsé-kun: Angra: ... ... *he looks more confused than anything* Uhm.. Thanks..? Sheepy: Bedi: I apologize if I'm making you uncomfortable. Arsé-kun: Angra: It's not, um. *he huffs and sits up* I did mean thanks, that's real, but.. *he seems conflicted, before just giving up on being subtle* Nobody's ever that nice to me. You know what I am, yeah? Sheepy: Bedi: I do. Sheepy: Bedi: However... Sheepy: Bedi: I would never dislike you. Sheepy: Bedi: It doesn’t matter to me who you are. I won’t treat you poorly because of it. Arsé-kun: Angra: ... ... *he tilts his head to the side* Thank you? A terrible decision, really, but thanks anyway. Sheepy: Bedi: Huh? Sheepy: Bedi: I don’t believe so. Sheepy: Bedi: I don’t dislike anyone. Arsé-kun: Angra: Anyone? Not even the dark shady butler guy? Sheepy: Bedi: No, I don’t dislike even him. Arsé-kun: Angra: Huh. Sheepy: Bedi: I see him as a problem to solve, but once he’s no longer attempting to hurt us, I wish him the best. Sheepy: Bedi: Perhaps one might find that odd, but... Sheepy: Bedi: I suppose I’m just an odd individual: Arsé-kun: Angra: *he thinks about this* You really are some sorta screwball, but hey, you're not bad. Sheepy: Bedi: I’m happy to hear that. Sheepy: Bedi: However... Sheepy: Bedi: It saddens me to hear people don’t treat you very nicely. Sheepy: Bedi: Is there anything I could do for you? Sheepy: Bedi: I’m fairly good at cooking simple things and I can make coffee well, so maybe I could make something for you? Arsé-kun: Angra: ... That'd be nice... Sheepy: Bedi: What would you like? Arsé-kun: Angra: Yer asking me? Hm.. Hmmmm! Something edible! Sheepy: Bedi: ... Sheepy: Bedi: Do you have no preference...? Sheepy: Bedi: Ah...then I’ll share my favorite meal with you! Sheepy: Bedi: Do you mind vegetables? Arsé-kun: Angra: Great question! Lets find out. Sheepy: *Bedi goes to the kitchen and begins cooking steamed veggies!* Arsé-kun: *Angra follows him and plops into a chair. Obseeeerve* Sheepy: Bedi: What hobbies do you have? Arsé-kun: Angra: Does people watching count? Caaause if not, I got nothin'. Sheepy: Bedi: I think it does. Sheepy: Bedi: I found watching mankind evolve around me absolutely fascinating. Sheepy: Bedi:...Of course...my wanderings were my punishment, but even still, I enjoyed them to some extent. Sheepy: Bedi: Of course... Sheepy: Bedi: My favorite dish is what it is due to what it reminds me of. Sheepy: Bedi: Of course... Sheepy: Bedi: My favorite dish is what it is due to what it reminds me of. Sheepy: Bedi: The happy times of the Knights of the Round Table. I had it often back then because I loved it even then. Sheepy: Bedi: But now, it's more of a symbol of...oh, I apologize for rambling. It's a bad habit of mine. Arsé-kun: Angra: Nah, go ahead, dude. I ain't got much to say. Sheepy: Bedi: So it doesn't bore you? Arsé-kun: Angra: Not yet at least! Sheepy: Bedi: It's more of a symbol of those happy times because I was completely incapable of making it on my travels. Arsé-kun: Angra: But you can now? Sheepy: Bedi: I'm capable of making it now, but it's the only thing that truly remains from those times. Sheepy: Bedi: Do you ever wish things were just a bit different? Almost as though you could erase memories of the past that changed you? Arsé-kun: Angra: Fuck, man. I'd be some random schmuck otherwise. And some third schmuck would be stuck with what I had.. Feels bad. Sheepy: Bedi: I suppose. Sheepy: Bedi: I understand those memories are important, yet...I... Arsé-kun: Angra: Eh! Shit happens, it makes the world turn. That and black magic, but anyway. And then you die. Sheepy: Bedi:..I recognize we'll never return to those happy times, so we just have to make new ones. But with Sir Lancelot a berserker due to what happened between himself and our King, Sir Gawain completely unrestrained by any moral compass in some respects due to our King not watching over him, and Sir Tristan in...ah, he hasn't changed a bit. Sheepy: Bedi: But it feels like it's impossible. Even if we're happy together, something is missing. Something is wrong. Sheepy: Bedi: And it just weighs on the back of my mind. Arsé-kun: Angra: Get over it, that's my advice. You're not gettin' it back. Never will. Why bother? Sheepy: Bedi: Yes, that's true. Sheepy: Bedi: But... Sheepy: Bedi: I suppose why I bother is because I dearly love my friends. I'd like to see them smile again without seeing that guilt behind their eyes. ...Other than Sir Tristan. Sheepy: Bedi: Oh, it's ready. Arsé-kun: Angra: Well, tell them to stop bein' pussies. Except the Berserker, I guess, he'll kill me. Sheepy: *Bedi dishes out the steamed veggies and gives them to Angra* Sheepy: Bedi:...Hmm... Tell them to... Sheepy: Bedi:..would that work... Sheepy: Bedi: ...Thank you... Sheepy: Bedi: You've actually helped me a lot. Arsé-kun: Angra: Yeah, sure, any time. And you helped more. Sheepy: Bedi: I'm happy to hear that. Arsé-kun: *Angra considers the veggies. He considers the coconuts, and it's trees. It's still hot. He likes his tongue not burning to a cinder.* Sheepy: Bedi: If you like it, I'll make it for you in the future. If not, I'll try to come up with something else. Sheepy: Bedi: My brother is a much better cook than me. Sheepy: Bedi: However...I'll do my best! Arsé-kun: Angra: It's not pitch black, yer already better than half the shit I've seen. Sheepy: Bedi: Yes, that sounds accurate. Arsé-kun: *Angra goes to nom. !!! It is immediately Angra-Approved.* Sheepy: Bedi: Oh...! I'll keep in mind that you like it! Arsé-kun: *Angra proceeds to more or less inhale the edibles. is gud* Sheepy: *Bedi finishes cleaning* Arsé-kun: *Until Angra comes over with his plate and utensils. You are not done.* Sheepy: *Bedi begins cleaning those, too* Arsé-kun: *Good man Bedivere LastName* Arsé-kun: Angra: So, uh... Now what? Arsé-kun: Angra: I'd love to fuck with somebody, but I'll die instantly. Sheepy: Bedi: Hmm.. Sheepy: Bedi: Do you want to try going back to sleep? Arsé-kun: Angra: Should, but I'm not feeling it. Sheepy: Bedi: Hmm... Sheepy: Bedi: I was considering it myself because...what if Merlin gets lonely? Arsé-kun: Angra: Then sucks to be him. Arsé-kun: Angra: Oh, oh, I know. I can be a creepy weirdo and you can see if everyone's doing okay. It's Halloween, after all! Nobody is safe! Sheepy: Bedi: Oh...! Sheepy: Bedi: But wouldn't that wake them up? Arsé-kun: Angra: What are you gonna do, jump on their bed until it breaks? Why would it? Sheepy: Bedi: Jump on their bed...? Arsé-kun: Angra: You're not, right? So why would you wake anyone up? It's bitch o clock am. Sheepy: Bedi: I've only heard of such activities in rumors...! Sheepy: Bedi: That children jump on their beds and get punished. Arsé-kun: Angra: Well, yeah. They would go flyin' out windows, or hit the floor, or do somethin' stupid. We're adults, we can do what we goddamn want. Sheepy: Bedi: ....However, when I asked if Satoru partakes in such activities....he replied, "Why? What does it accomplish?" Arsé-kun: Angra: The same as other time wasters! It's fun! Sheepy: Bedi: They meant not actual children, but manchildren! Sheepy: Bedi: You're very knowledgeable! Arsé-kun: Angra: Real kids? Shouldn't do it. They'll gottdam die. And are you calling me a manchildren?? Sheepy: Bedi: Huh? Sheepy: Bedi: *he tilts his head* Huh? Arsé-kun: Angra: *he tilts his in response* Huh? Do we think better when we tilt? Sheepy: Bedi: Well, I thought you were like Andersen. Sheepy: Bedi: You gave me "old man in a child's body" vibes, but not the way Satoru does. Arsé-kun: Angra: I mean, I was pretty old when I finally died! Does that count? Sheepy: Bedi: Oh! So was... Sheepy: Bedi:....I? Sheepy: Bedi:...... Sheepy: Bedi:.....??? Arsé-kun: Angra: Should I be calling you old man, then?? Sheepy: Bedi: I didn't actually die....I kind of was just ...sent to the void? Arsé-kun: Angra: I'd say lucky you, but can't share the feeling! Sheepy: Bedi: Oh, it's quite unnatural. Sheepy: Bedi: I wouldn't expect anyone to relate. Arsé-kun: Angra: That's why yer lucky, but whatever. Sheepy: Bedi: Oh. Sheepy: Bedi: I suppose I might be lucky in some people's eyes in that respect. Arsé-kun: Angra: *he sorta shrugs* Sheepy: Bedi: Anyway...um... Sheepy: Bedi: What now? Arsé-kun: Angra: I dunno. What do you fancy pantsy knights do, anyway? Sheepy: Bedi: Whatever my king asks of me. Sheepy: Bedi: Other than that... Sheepy: Bedi: We spend time together, train ourselves, spar, or do what we need in order to live. Sheepy: Bedi: A bond between your fellow knights is incredibly important. Sheepy: Bedi: It'll be what saves you. Sheepy: Bedi: We also sightsee...but if you mean now... Sheepy: Bedi:...Unfortunately, I think Sir Lancelot and Sir Tristan mope all the time with very few breaks, Sir Gawain is a skirt chaser, and I spend most of my time by Merlin's side. Arsé-kun: Angra: Yeah, I noticed. It's a good source of food for me. Sheepy: Bedi: Lucan hasn't changed a bit other than the massive hole in his chest, Sir Kay hasn't changed, and Griflet apparently enjoys children's shows. Sheepy: Bedi: I would be overjoyed if all of us could come together for a party of some sort. Arsé-kun: Angra: Then have a party! Go nuts, go feral, get smashed and get "smashed"! Arsé-kun: Angra: You wanna do a thing? Do the thing! Sheepy: Bedi: *he eagerly holds his fists up in front of his chest, smiling brightly* I'll "go feral"! Arsé-kun: Angra: Wait wait wait hold on wait *this is not the reply he expected At All* Sheepy: Bedi: Huh? Arsé-kun: *And poor Angra now has to explain EXACTLY what "Going feral" means. He throws Sicko Mode in for a bonus* Sheepy: Bedi:....I don't really understand, so I'll just ask Merlin Arsé-kun: Angra: Oh my gggghh.. It means you act like a nutcase wild animal! Go nuts! Go crazy! Same thing! Please don't actually use it, I might be murdered for it! Sheepy: Bedi: Oh... Sheepy: Bedi: I'll avoid it. Arsé-kun: Angra: Lobo going on a murder spree is going feral. Me drinking a keg of beer and committing a crime is going feral. You're a goodie two shoes, you avoid that. Sheepy: Bedi: I see. Sheepy: Bedi: But... Sheepy: Bedi: Isn't it "Goodie two snooze"? Sheepy: Bedi: Lucan says that a goodie two snooze is someone who's good at droning on to the point that you get in two naps before they're done. Sheepy: Bedi: And that any similar phrases are wrong and I should question them. Arsé-kun: Angra: Eh? A liar? Lemme beat him up and die for my transgressions. Sheepy: Bedi: Huh? Arsé-kun: Angra: Never mind! *he decides to do it himself later this week.* Sheepy: Bedi: My brother's very smart. Arsé-kun: Angra: Yeah, in the bad ideas and puns department. Sheepy: Bedi: For example.. Sheepy: Bedi: Did you know that alcohol was invented by someone named Alfred Kay Hole? But his friends would call him Al for short. Sheepy: Bedi: He told me that. Arsé-kun: Angra: Did he? Hmm! Sheepy: Bedi: I hadn't heard it before. He's very knowledgeable! Arsé-kun: Angra: He must be, to know such weird stuff. Sheepy: Bedi: Yes, exactly Sheepy: Bedi: He loves teaching me these things, too. Sheepy: Bedi: And spreading the word. He tells me to share my newfound knowledge whenever I can. Arsé-kun: Angra: Maaan.. *does he tell Bedi? Does he not? Which is the more evil of the two? And which keeps him fed?* ... Arsé-kun: Angra: You know he's fuckin' with you, right? Sheepy: Bedi: Huh? Sheepy: Bedi: Oh, people tell me this often. Arsé-kun: Angra: Al Kay Hole? Alcohol? He's messing with you. Sheepy: Bedi: But Lucan doesn't lie. Arsé-kun: Angra: Also, it's goodie two-shoes. But I might steal the other one! Sheepy: Bedi: He says that he knows a lot of facts about make up, not that they're lies. Sheepy: Bedi:...Or is it a lot of facts that he makes up? Sheepy: Bedi: Either way, he knows a lot of facts! Arsé-kun: Angra: Both? But these sound like bullshit to me, and I know bullshit! I speak it fluently! He's makin' shit up and watchin' you embarrass yourself! What a dickkk! Sheepy: Bedi: Huh? Sheepy: Bedi: Hmmmm...but... Sheepy: Bedi: *he tilts his head* ... Arsé-kun: Angra: Whaaaat an asshollle! A whole douché de pas! Arsé-kun: Angra: And the entire asshole ballet! Sheepy: Bedi: So then... Sheepy: Bedi: Eggnog isn't an alcoholic beverage for chickens? Arsé-kun: Angra: Nope! Sheepy: Bedi: And Santa doesn't put people down on his naughty list permanently if they forget to bake cookies for him? Arsé-kun: Angra: Nooope! The Krampus might consider it though! Sheepy: Bedi: Lucan said he was giving his gifts to me because he felt bad for me and was taking the coal... Sheepy: Bedi: He even put my name on in advance... Arsé-kun: Angra: ... IS regifting a sin? *thinking emoji* Sheepy: Bedi: Huh? Arsé-kun: Angra: The answer issss! Ittttttt's not! Sheepy: Bedi:....!? Sheepy: Bedi: And the Easter bunny doesn't eat people whose hair makes people think of bunnies!? Arsé-kun: Angra: It's a rabbit! Why would he eat people? He's not the beast! Sheepy: Bedi:...Because he's hungry after laying eggs. Sheepy: Bedi: But he eats other rabbits for fuel. Sheepy: Bedi: His vision isn't very good so he mistakes people with hairstyles like mine for rabbits. Arsé-kun: Angra: That's the dumbest thing I've heard tonight! I love it. I'm going to scare children with it next year. Sheepy: Bedi: Huh? Arsé-kun: Angra: That's dumb. Hi, I'm your villain for the evening and you're kinda naive, ain'tcha? Arsé-kun: Angra: A bit dumb in the upstairs? A little too trusting of man? Like okay, Spenta, we get it, you're the nicest guy in the world, but yer kind of an idiot? Arsé-kun: Angra: You a doormat or a man? Ch-ch-check yaself 'fore ya wreck yaself! Arsé-kun: *Angra attempts an airhorn noise, but not too loudly. bewww bewbewbewbewwww* Arsé-kun: Angra: Anyway if you hold him down, I'll kick him in the taint for ya. Sheepy: Bedi: Huh? Sheepy: Bedi: Isn't it better to be trusting than to constantly question whether something is a lie? Sheepy: Bedi: My brother wouldn't have any reason to lie to me, would he? Sheepy: Bedi: And....a doormat, hm. Sheepy: Bedi: I wonder if I am one....I wonder... I'll ask Merlin about what you're saying. Arsé-kun: Angra: Easy answer. For his own amusement! People can be diiiiicks! Sheepy: Bedi:?! Sheepy: Bedi: Wh...what!? Arsé-kun: Angra: Surprise! Sheepy: Bedi: But...! Sheepy: Bedi: I can't believe this... Sheepy: Bedi:....I need to ask Merlin about this... Arsé-kun: Angra: Yeaaah, probs a good idea. Believin' the shit I say might not always be good! Sheepy: Bedi: I suppose so. Sheepy: Bedi: I have a lot to think about... (CONTINUED IN 15.5)

Gosh, you like a lot of the same things as me and seeing all your stuff about everything makes me happy! Hellboy and his cat fam are one of my favorite things about the movie, also when he's talking to the dead guy he brought back.

LISTEN BUDDY I know you didn’t ask forheadcanons about Hellboy but also no one ever talks to me about Hellboy so hereare some headcanons about Hellboy (and Liz and Abe).

A: what I think realistically

Let me tell you the story of how a firestarterfirst met a demon 

Liz is an eleven-year-old girl fresh offthe accidental incineration of a square block and the accidental manslaughterof thirty-two people.  BPRD swoops in tograb her out of the foster system because she tells one person—the very firstfirefighter on scene—that it was her,that the fire just exploded out of her and she couldn’t stop it.  The firefighter writes her off as a scared,traumatized kid, but the arson report is inexplicable and BPRD can’t, in goodconscience, take the chance that the incident might happen a second time.

Their concerns are immediately confirmedwhen an agent, unused to working with children, brusquely informs Liz of thedeaths of her grandmother, her parents, and her baby brother.  The agent gets away with only second-degreeburns, by dint of one of his comrades tackling Liz with a fire retardantblanket.

Liz, on her own insistence, is placedalone in a fireproof room, and she refuses point-blank to allow anyone elseinside.

“Well,” Hellboy says, absolutelyunconcerned, when one of the agents guarding the door tells him all ofthis.  “Lucky I’m fireproof then.”

It takes him three months and fifteenoccasions of having some part of his clothing scorched away while he sprintsback to Liz’s fireproof room with her tucked close to his chest, but by December,Liz sits at the table for Christmas dinner. She’s a tiny little slip of a thing in Hellboy’s hulking shadow, but shestays glued to him the whole night,murmuring responses to his deep voice.  Thehandful of agents invited by the Professor are shocked to learn that theirsilent, grave charge can actually smile.

B: what I think is fucking hilarious

There is a HANDSOME betting pool on howlong every new agent will last, with a timer that is helpfully started by theagent at the reception desk the moment a new recruit comes through the door.  The record is fourteen seconds from entry toend of bet, so fast that no one even had time to put money down—the floorstarted to move, and the young man hurledhimself off the platform, landing sprawled on the marble while the agent gavehim a disdainful look.  As new agentslast longer, the pool grows, and while reupping one’s bet IS allowed, the catchis that only one person at a time is allowed to bet that the agent willstay.  Generally it requires a round ortwo of reupping before someone’s ballsy enough to put money on a permanentassignment, but there have been one or two times that someone (…often Hellboy)has been reckless and it’s paid off.  

Some highlights of the pool include Liz’suncanny ability to predict (and precipitate—for some reason it’s more unnervingto watch an otherwise normal person burn down a building than to see a visiblystrange person do visibly strange things) exact departure times, Hellboy’stendency to either bet ‘five minutes’ or ‘they’ll stick around’ with nodiscrimination whatsoever, and the fact that Abe isn’t allowed to bet anymoresince he placed a bet over the comms exactly three minutes before an agentquit.

C: what is heart-crushing and awful but fun to inflict on friends

Hellboy learns when he’s three years oldthat people don’t just die in battle. Sometimes they just die.  He lives on a military base, he knows thatdeath happens, he just.  It comes as ashock that it can just happen, eventhough he knows it in theory.  One of theadministrators suffers an unexpected heart attack and Hellboy—about theequivalent of an eight-year-old, and already standing as tall as his father’sshoulder—clings to Professor Bruttenholm’s sleeve throughout the funeral, in away that he hasn’t done in almost a year.

“Father,” Hellboy says afterward,unusually subdued.  “Will you die somedaytoo?”

“Yes, my boy,” Trevor says, because he doesn’tbelieve in lying to children.  “But notfor a long time, I hope.”

Hellboy nods quietly to himself and sitsthere in silence for a few minutes before he speaks again.

“Will I?”

“We don’t know,” Trevor says, bending tokiss Hellboy’s forehead.  “Maybe.  Maybe not.”

Almost sixty years later, Hellboy issitting at his father’s grave, kneeling on the ground in the pose of someonepraying, one hand clenched tight around his father’s rosary and the othertracing the words on the stone.  And I shall fear no evil, reads thesimple inscription.  Trevor Bruttenholm, Beloved Father and Mentor.

It has been over ten years since Hellboynoticed any sign of aging in himself. Even if he did die, of old age or of injury, he knows where his father’ssoul is now, and he doesn’t know if he’d even be allowed in the frontgates.  

D:  what would never work with canon but the canon isshit so I believe it anyway

Oh, I don’t know…I mean, the great thingabout the fantasy noir style of the Hellboy universe is that you can justify alot.  But one crossover I haven’t seenbut would really enjoy the hell out of would be a crossover between the WonderWoman movie and Hellboy.  Diana hearsstories about some supernatural shenanigans happening during World War II, butshe’s neck deep in struggling to do something, anything to stem the tide of bodies so she’s not around.  A couple decades later, she almost walks straight into a huge man with horns andbright red skin and a friendly smile at an archeological excavation, andHellboy tries real hard not to blurt out “Oh my God, you’re Wonder Woman!”

They hang out.  It’s good. They never meet up on purpose, but they run into each other every fewyears, despite Diana’s firm refusal to get involved with BPRD or any otherofficial government organization, and Diana is delighted to meet Liz when she’sjust Hellboy’s shy, quiet teammate and even more delighted to meet her when she’sHellboy’s fiancée.  Also, Abe likes Dianabecause she can think in a bunch of different languages and teach them to himrapid-fire.

Also I’m still really enthusiastic aboutthat one Animorphs/BPRD crossover I came up with one time?