#fruit is honestly the best thing that ive ever experienced

[spacegaywritings]

Drunk Kitchen - Chapter 1 / 2

Summary: Remy and Virgil have some fun with adult juice but their fun is about to drop when the craving for sustenance Can be read as purely platonic considering there is no lip-kisses. Tags: food mention ×missing your soulmate ×Alcohol ×Drunken Shenanigans ×Drunken Flirting ×Drunkenness ×war metaphors from drunk idiots taking cooking too serious

tumblr links:1 / 2 || ao3: 1 / 2 / all. My KoFi  - Support me ♥ or Commission me Story under the cut!

  The sun was low, the day was crisp. Afternoon settled over the land and into the bones of workers hungering for the sweet end of their weekend shifts just to make a bit of extra money and finally be with their beloved home.

Outside, a few people got ready to enjoy the Saturday night, to go wild and party and dance until their bodies had different shames and their head carried different names. The first groups emerged from the home-coming crowds as the birds flew back to their nests and the first buses took the party people over to the pool of sweaty bodies and alcoholic beverages.

Inside, some people reunited their families, others were greeting the next groups of wellness-seeking average people who just lived for getting a meal cooked for them once in a while.

In other places, the party was already high up. It was autumn, Saturday afternoon and so late, you could almost call it evening with the clouds closing in to frame the sun. The bright star was slowly descending, disappearing behind the busy streets and high skyscrapers.

Virgil and Remy... they were the last kind of people. Ever since their roommate - Emile, lovely and beloved datemate of theirs - was out to meet his parents and do some catching up stuff, Remy had decided that it was time to do some catching up as well.

Holding up a bottle of strong alcohol, he had invited Virgil into the “fun” they would have and all the other could see was the impending doom within a bottle. Still, he had given in and willingly decided to slurp some of the disgusting and burning liquid from Remy’s bouncing navel piercing.

Virgil had never forgotten his doubts as quick as in these moments.

Drinking was far beyond by now, the sun was burning with the last intensity of a stubborn yet dying ally. The last words were spoken and Remy sagged against his love.

“wmhwmhw V..”, he mumbled and snuggled against the taller boy.

Virgil swatted at the other but made no attempt at actually pushing him off or anything. Instead, he wrapped an arm around him after trying to get at his little coffee bean. He wavered on his feet but made sure to lean against the counter as Remy just decided to give in and crush Virgil with the whole weight of being responsible to hold him up.

“The fwuck yo...yo wan-mmm “, Virgil hiccuped as he snuggled the other, “uh.. Ri?”

His voice was low and the words came out much clearer than expected but Virgil was worse off than Remy, despite the heavy hiccuping that came from the smaller of the two.

“VIiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii”, Remy shouted at once, then dragged the syllable along as if it was a piece of chewed out, wet gum rather than a nickname.

The man in question just let out a grunt in reply but looked at the shorter guy with hazy hazel eyes. Heh, hazel hazy... hazyel... Pf..

Virgil’s lips twitched into a lazy smile. His arm tugged at Remy who had not enough control over his body to resist the strong suggestion of cuddling closer. The tall, slightly curvy man chuckled a bit and flapped his long lanky arms around his lovely Remy.

“Ri-Ri - Remyyyyyy”, he giggled in a singsong voice as he rocked from left to right and left to right and further to the right and then stopped.. because he lost the unsteady rhythm his drunkass-stupid mind had set up before. He was even too silly to follow his unconscious motifs.

The smaller man was torn between giggling and breaking off the whole hug but the rocking movement was something between nauseating and comforting in a way that he felt too mentally and physically weak in his knees to put a foot down and stop it. He just let his baggy body sluggishly fall from one to the other side within Virgil’s soggy grip.

“Nuuu”, Remy protested. He was so short of breath, he just snuggled back against Virgil’s chest and let out more distressed noises of Remy’s Complaints :tm: “Vii....”, he started again, his mind gathering every bit of brain juice he had to actually continue his intention and voice whatever weird thought had built up in his mind, “food..we..”

Remy swallowed.

“we need foo...fofof..foof....” Remy scoffed at himself, indignation taking over as he felt anger rise against his useless mouth. How dare it just suck at wording like this? “f-food. FucKING food!”

Spit flew against Virgil’s purple shirt but he was too dizzy to really see it. His mind was everywhere and it felt as if nothing was steady but instead, all was moving. He knew nothing should be moving and he had stopped rocking forever ago.

Wait, where was he? Oh, oh yes. Remy.

“uh.. what?”

He blinked and redirected his attention to the other again.

“Uh.. fo-forgot to .. uh .. what .. um, did you say? “

His mind was still drawing a blank at him so he just stared at Remy, hazel eyes empty and void of expectation or thought. He lacked about anything but a high blood sugar level and tons of alcohol. Yes. Yes, so much alcohol of it.. of this bottle and another bottle and oh man..

“Virgil - Vi Vi vI vI v iv iv viv - bitch! virgIL you stupid fucker”

Remy ranted on and patted his chest violently, insistently. The other blinked and just... nodded again, his wavy attention slowly wobbling back into place as Remy wanted to have it. His mind felt like these ... these screens ..oh man these screens... sleep screens? These screens that happen when you do not use your shit and then your technology gives you that DVD screen and the symbol changes colour and wobbles from one corner to another and usually just hits walls.

This was his mind right now.

“Virgil” Remy flapped a hand against Virgil’s cheek. “Like,... food... we gotta eat and this shit.... food... just food, man”

He voice started to sound like he was talking about a conspiracy rather than preparing a meal with one of his datemates.

Virgil carefully nodded. Still, his face seemed as droopy and out-of-this-world as before. Connecting to him seemed about impossible bit Remy was trying his best and somewhat succeeding at this point.

At last, the taller one was looking down at the man in black. A slightly oversized top was hugging Remy’s sides and slacked a bit around his chest area. Forever stoic, the tall over squinted at Remy and nodded.

“Food”, he repeated.

Slowly, at an incredibly ancient pace, Virgil’s mind seemed to start and actually process the idea of food, a meal. Yes, food. Food sounded good, sounded like an amazing thing to have. Oh, yes food could be tasty and they could eat together and have really tasty food that was delicious.

“Em has foood”, he argued eventually.

Yeah, whyever the hell would Virgil make food if it was not in order to satisfy Emile’s petite hunger. His mind just could not comprehend the idea of .... making a meal when Emile was gone. Why would he? It did not make sense.

Unless..

Virgil blinked, a flash of intelligence brushing through his alcohol-numbed braincells. Remy.

“hungry... uh.. you “, he started at first, then swallowed, his mouth tasting of cherries and kisses even sweeter than sugared fruit. And it tasted of a lot of alcohol. It could rival a bottle of common sanitising solution, to be candid. “You are hungry?”

Remy nodded eagerly!

His head bopped up and down immediately but once he had executed the movement for a bit, his head seemed to understand that the pressure and pain seemed to come from the sensation of sudden and repetitive movement of his innocent brain. If he tried harder, maybe he would just make a little cocktail in his head.

Heh, like a brain milkshake when you ate icecream a lot and it started hurting so you shake your head until the pain comes off. Brainfreeze was bad. Yes.

But food!!

“ah - uh.. food”, Remy repeated once more, “cook - um,.. we should cook.”

Virgil nodded without understanding and let himself be tugged along. The smaller boyfriend was freeing himself from Virgil’s wide hugs and he quickly made it out of the embrace and stepped away from the loving support that was his boyfriend’s stable shoulder.

Without missing another heartbeat, Remy strode forward and dragged Virgil along. Together, they made a move, they made progress, they took a whole step after the other until Remy - the genius of the two - made a big realisation- Virgil had been his support all along.

His body did not like being without any wall or shoudler to lean on. Instead of moving forward, he was suddenly experiencing the force of being forced downwards and he and Virgil bonked their heads together as they stupidly collapsed into the floor.

No braincell was lost in the process of making this fall. They were just as silly before the fall and they would continue to be silly even afterwards. Honestly, they were not more clever, now that they had experienced the first hardship.

Oh no. Those were drunk idiots.

Hurting heads clanked together and Virgil slid over the body underneath him, his throbbing temples restricting his reason and patience.

What had happpened? Did they not want to make food? But the food... Where was the food?

“Where ‘s Em?”, Virgil mumbled and scrambled his twig of a physical vessel back into a seating position at last.

Remy was still on the floor, groaning and cursing unintelligible strings of words. Maybe they were made-up words. They sounded made-up. Virgil’s boyfriend was beautiful and a really clever writer so he probably knew how to make words. Wow, such great skill.

He really wanted to kiss him now but a part of him was still mourning after the - once again - new realisation of a missing Emile.

“Viiiiiiiiiii”

A voice whined and the black bundle of boyfriend was moving towards him again, hands facing him and arms outstretched as if to grab Virgil like a lifeline.

“Em is not here...”, Virgil responded and laid back down to his partner.

Misery loves company ♥

The tall boy curled around the smaller one and gently hugged him from behind. Remy let out a little hiccup and snuggled into the embrace.

“n we dun hav food”, he argued silently and nudged Virgil’s chest with his heavy head. It was running on pain and simply pressing against his skull for no reason but to be dummy annoying.

That stupid bitch.

“We uh.. can umm.... do this thing - like..uh, cook..” Virgil swallowed, his body suddenly invigorated by the energy of being right about something, by having a single functioning braincell in his godforsaken drunk-ass head. “Cook! Oh my fuck, we-we can cook!”

The raven man twitched and tapped the floor insistently.

“PIZZA!”

Virgil nodded.

“uh.. how.. how do you.. uh ,,, we? How ... how pizza? How do you make uh, ujm.. pizza”

“Oh !! o ! yes, pizza!”

Virgil’s mind was already swirling around the idea of hot, cheesy, greasy food. Tasty, doughy and absolutely amazing for his mouth - his tastebuds. It felt like a relief already.

In foolish happiness, the two got up. It took a while, longer than a few moments but rather multiple minutes until they had climbed and dragged themselves back up to the position of standing, sophisticated human beings. Not that they were a part of the fancy beings but rather that they seemed to resemble this species a bit more than any other.

Eventually, Remy hung over the drawer filled with snacks. He needed to eat, wanted to eat and he had a certain craving for the greasiest of foods. The black dude grabbed the crisps and hugged them to himself, snuggling up on topf of the kitchen counter with the little snack as Virgil got minced meat to make a killer festival of a greasy pizza dish. Remy started off good! His hands grabbed the package from two sides and started pulling. For some reason, still, his grip seemed to slip. His fingers just couldn't grasp the material properly. It was one of the shiny packages that felt smoother than these matte ones. Virgil liked the texture better so they usually got these rather than other ones.

Just.. today.. they didn't seem to want to open and Remy, in his silly mind, was convinced that more violence and stubbornness would solve the issue better than scissors would ever be able to. Virgil got a pan and was ready to got. Meat, pan. What else would a person need?

His drunk mind started working, gears setting into motion and letting his thought process start. Just as he realised that maybe some oil would be helpful, he heard a loud sound, a sudden shuffling and scattering.

The hazy mind of Virgil redirected his shortened attention span to the source of sound and was met with the sight of Remy covered in spices and crisps. Opening the pack of crisps with a little more aggression was not as practical as he had expected it to be and now he was stuck on the kitchen counter, covered in crisps and crumbs and excess spice powder.

“...uh..”

The tall blob of confusion looked at the orange boy. Yes, Remy was now officially orange. Those were spicy crisps! Honestly, if someone was able to pull off being covered in crisps, drunk out of their mind yet still look somewhat remotely attractive then it was Remy.

The hungry man giggled, his body vibrating and and shaking in amusement. The crisps travelled down, sliding off his clothes and down onto the counter.

“I am tasty!”, he cheered, arms stretched out and ready to hug and tackle the issue at hand, “look!”

The taller one of the lovers just shook his head and leaned in, snatching one off the crisps with his tongue and welcoming the spicy hot treat into the drooling cavern that was his mouth. A hum escaped his mouth and he nodded his head sagely.

“Very tasty”

The two giggled further, Virgil curling his tall posture into a slightly crooked “l” as he  leaned closer to the counter. His hand grasped the edge and promptly encountered one of the lost crisps that cracked and broke on impact. A dying screech could be heard after the lethal contact. A few crumbs could be found on the inside of Virgil’s hand as he retreated his palm in the curiosity of an innocent child’s mind.

“huh..”, he observed wisely. His tongue leaped at the crumbs and he absorbed the piece of sustenance.

“We need to clean .. uh.. that”, he added after chewing on his food and eventually swallowing it down. His left vaguely gestured towards the mess of roasted potatoes decorating one of his datemate’s bodies.

It was a wondrous sight but would turn Emile into an upset little puppy rather than a happy and excited Golden Retriever. He did have the soft energy of one.

Remy nodded again. One of his hands bravely sneaked one of the crispy delights and rewarded his watering mouth with the taste of bell peppers.

“Ish gwood”

Virgil snorted.

“Em- uh.. We- we need to clean”, he reiterated, “we gotta clean.”

The smaller man suddenly shook, his body coming to life and more avalanche of crumbs suddenly breaking from Mount Remy and crashing down onto the kitchen counter with silent pitter-patter sounds. It was like raindrops but less liquid and more dry. More crunchy and crushing.

Satisfying.

“We! Uh, we can..ah- do uh.. um! Bowl! V! Get a bowl!”

The taller of the two broke away from his waiting stance and slowly descended to his knees to pick up a bowl. His mind comprehended the things a bit better by now. The alcohol might be fading or maybe the one bit of crisps was absorbing ALL his alcohol within him.

Or magic, obviously.

They got the crisps from the kitchen counter and off Remy right into the bowl which was then settled in Remy’s happy lap. He was welcoming and neighbourly to the bowl, hugged it and treated it right because he was proper and gentlemanly in his foggy mind.

Virgil looked at the bowl, full and rich with greasy little pieces of potatoes and a mix of spices.

“uh.. they um.. they will be bad”, he thought aloud and tapped against the bowl as he fished another bit out of it. His mouth was accepting the treat willingly and his stomach howled in anticipation. Only his mind was still twisting and turning and nothing made sense. Not that he minded too much. His body was warm and cozy and his thoughts seemed to fly. “we um.. should eat all.”

Remy hugged the bowl, his face immediately scrunching up in distaste.

“Food!”

The smaller man curled up, his legs moving up and his back hitting the wall as he pulled his knees up to his chest. The bowl was put between his chest and the knees.

His precious treasure.

“Ri, we... you are eating it. We will eat it”, Virgil compromised and reached out for the bowl but Remy hissed at him. The heart of a betrayed man was on his tongue as he scowled at the other and gently snuggled his little meal.

A soft puppy face spread over his facial features.

“We eat it..?”

His voice was softer than silk, the tone lowered to a plead. Virgil’s smile was soft and genuine when it appeared and settled on his features. He tried to mimic a similar level of gentleness with his voice and carefully brushed over the back of one of Ri’s hands that was grasping the bowl.

“We will eat it all. No throwing away.”

Remy smiled at him and nodded enthusiastically.

“We share!”

The two were calmly eating out the bowl, enjoying the greasy treat and Virgil allowed himself to lean into the counter and lay next to Remy. The latter eventually decided to be a good bean and switch the bowl with Virgil. Once one of his datemates was sprawled over his thighs, Remy brushed through the pastel pink hair tips of his love’s soft strands. The home dyejob was long ago and the colour was faded so much that the bleached hair slowly took over but Virgil seemed comfortable with a tuff of cotton candy as his hair.

He hummed.

“Food... V.. “, he commented and gently patted his head - earning a little gasp from the other in his state of mindless relaxation. “perfect”

Virgil giggled, the words of his Remy immediately prompting the response their datemate would usually add to it.

“Do you mean ‘purrfect’ ?”, the two inquired in unison before falling victim to their own giggles which soon consumed the incomplete throuple. They would both hear Em’s voice without him being around.

Remy softly nudged his love and Virgil let out a soft grumble. He decided to groan back and nudge again to insist on his wish that the tall boy move.

“We still need to cook, yanno”

Virgil giggled, wobbling on his feet with his wonky stand on the ground. He shifted his weight from one side to the other and moved like a wave to balance his uncertain steps.

“Heh.. cock”, he commented, intelligently so.

Remy joined his hilarious giggles and soon enough, the Virgil curled over the other, hugging him and vibrating in laughter as his smaller roommate shook and twitched in his soft snickers.

“C-cok..!”, Remy tried to correct yet failed as his breathless lungs swallowed half his sounds. Instead, his miserable attempt at setting things straight ended up in making the whole endeavour even gayer. “Co-..cockpfffffffffff”

Virgil shook his head, head red with laughter and euphoria as the words hit him and the meaning actually reached his mind. For some reason, repeating “cock” was amazing and his mind chanted it back at him, echoing the stuttered out attempts at saying “cook” that Remy produced with little success and much struggle.

“c-...”, Virgil laughed loudly, drawing back and wobbling onto his feet once more instead of blanketing his love with the abomination of his oddly large body, “co...cocc!!”

Remy had just composed himself to as much as breathe for a little second but the words Virgil threw into their version of a conversation quickly rekindled the fire of shrieking laughter and gasping snickers.

The two continued simply repeating each others miserable shots at saying “cook” a few more times, wild banter or unfinished words and breathless syllables were between them and filled the room with the warmth it was missing with their datemate still out. Heads grew hot and glowed in amusement at their stupid joke. Nothin could stop them but their horrible need to breathe after all.

They calmed down and their laughter died down.

Virgil decorated the floor, hugging the cool tiles with his warm tomato head as Remy patted the empty counter he sat on, his hand just mindlessly moving against it, stroking it ever so gently like a lover should be caressed. The tall boy was already half asleep as Remy’s hazy look wandered over the mess of a kitchen.

Crisps were still scattered wildly around the kitchen counter (mostly limited to where he was sitting) and even the floor. Cups, shots and little decorative umbrellas were clotting the sink and a few empty cans and bottles lined the side of the sink that did not have a drying rack. Even further, there were towels and napkins everywhere.. and more importantly, a pack of meat and a whole bottle of olive oil.

Why.. Oh, yes. The food.

His lethargic sight was enriched by the eventual addition of crisps creeping into his field of vision.

“V!!! V! The fooooood”

His words emphasised the food part. The significant part. Oddly enough, he could experience a moment of déjà vu yet without any recollection of similar events happening to him. Or happening at all.

The patch of pink and purple pastels was still on the floor but slowly, the legs within the pink yoga pants started stirring up.

He groaned again, feeling the déjà vu also but not being able to quite place it. The past minutes were lost on him. Virgil’s eyes blinked at the new day and new situation before him. Everything was fresh to his drunk mind and he nodded as he signaled he had heard his smaller lover.

He scratched his butt but made sure to flip himself over so he could see the other hovering over him on his divine place on the kitchen counter. Far above him, posing on the clouds of this mundane kitchen. The house’s own Cupid was shooting him glances of love and blinked in charm with his lovely eyelashes.

Virgil smiled up at the divine sight of his love. His sight was blurred by the pinkish veil of his hair that pretended to protect his lazy eyes from the longing lights in the kitchen that shone down onto him.

“Hey there, beauty~”

His smile grew into a little grin as he winked at the comfortable god.

“V you silly noodle~ “

Remy giggled back and curled into himself once more, by now fully laying on his kitchen cloud. His legs were slightly bent, the one pressed against the counter a bit more so than the one above it. One of his arms was supporting him as he leaned on its shoulder. The other arm was lazily draped over his rich middle.

His fingers traced hearts over the counter as he blinked into the pink madness of his little giant.

“What do you want, my love~?”

Virgil smirked up at his adorable master, a stupid happiness painting his facial features with a certain softness. Maybe it was just the fact half his face was covered in his bangs completely falling all over his eyes and even tickling his nubby nose.

The two gazed at one another, each a picture of the epitome of beauty to the other. They relished in the affection, the rosy vision and blurry flutters in their heart.

A noise could be heard. Remy blinked, awakening from the trance that was the spell of love his precious Virgil had cast on him with just his soft looks.

A rumble and grumble could be heard. A hollering and squeaking of demands and curses was thrown around - all coming from the hungry monster in Remy’s stomach. He looked down at it, a distant look in his eyes.

Confusion rolled in his mind but Virgil seemed to remember - or just suddenly have a little bit of understanding left in his mind. He blinked his eyes further open and patted the floor, gently stroking it before pulling himself together and sitting down properly.

“Riri, the f o o d!”, he told him and grabbed the counter to support himself in getting up. His tall body was soon hovering over the counter and gesturing towards the oil and meat once more. “We can cook the meat, man”

Remy nodded, rubbing his eyes. He carefully pushed himself into position once more and soon enough sat proudly on the counter, cheek a bit red from laying on the counter. He played with the sunglasses on top of his head and grabbed a nearby bottle. Taking a huge swig from it, he swallowed the acidic liquid.

His face immediately grimaced as his taste buds detected the different sensations coming at them and his reaction was immediate. The bitterness of alcohol, the intense burning of it down his throat made him scrunch up his facial features entirely. A fire was felt in his mouth but it was calmed by the abundance of sweetness mixed into their cocktail blend was finally reaching him. A taste of fruity freshness and the acidic undertone from lemons and limes washed the bitterness way and made him forget about the disgusting aftertaste of cheap vodka.

Ugh, who bought this shit anyway. It was one of the most widely-ruined alcoholic beverages on this planet and people just saw it as cheap ingredient for a sad cocktail in their plan to get smashed with as little money and effort as possible. Which he and Virgil did too, so he could not really judge that.

Virgil.. Virgil who was looking at him, head tilted and exposing his neck a bit. His pastel purple shirt around him was loosely hanging from him and barely covering his collarbone and general neck area.

The tall pastel boy reached for the bottle before Remy got to unscrew it and made sure to empty the rest into his big mouth. Remy just blinked at the other, shaking himself in disgust for a moment before he received the empty bottle in his hands and finally shut the holder of horribly disgusting sweetness.

“Good”, Virgil reviewed with a click of his tongue.

A pleased expression settled on his face and he looked like a peaceful statue of stone that would sit in some temples and parks.

Remy shook his head, his piercings clanging together with silent sound akin to jingling bells. The taller datemate cleared his throat again and pointed ta the stove.

“You gonna come.. come and uh.. help me cook?”, he asked softly as he looked at his lovely datemate. He was such a handsome piece of man. A fine man in black from head to toe, even his earrings and piercings were black (safe for the septum in silver than graced his lovely nose).

The smaller goth got down to the floor and quickly wrapped his arms around Virgil’s soft middle.

“mmmh”

Remy hummed and gently snuggled up to the walking softness that was one of his boyfriends. Sometimes he just realised that they had not touched in a while and it felt ridiculous.. wrong, in a way.

The closeness was remedying the little void in his touch-o-meter. He snuggled up to Virgil’s chest, hugging him close and simply enjoying how the embrace was returned. Virgil’s large arms folded around him, carefully holding him and shielding him from the touch-starved life without him. The taller one softly started rocking after he pressed a little smooch to the top of his head.

“Got you, Smalls”

Remy let out a sound of protest but stayed within the hold. No fight, no resistance. It was just cuddling softly, eyes closed and hearts opened as the warmth of affection lulled them in. Slowly, the weight in Virgil’s arms became more present, the pressure against his chest a little uncomfortable as Remy dozed off, falling against the tall pastel bean.

“ m nodt smahls”

His eyes fought to open again and he lethargically burdened himself with blinking at the other.

“Ssure not l-llove”, Virgil giggled in return and leaned down to hug more of his little lover.

Emile was still not with them and it was nagging at him.

“m!”, Virgil argued, pulling away from Remy at once, “We clan - can!Uh ... um.. Cook and and then be up um.. for uh.. for when Emile uh .. retwurns back uh .. home!” He bounced a bit in his spot and turned his attention back to the stove, quickly moving to put some oil into the pan he had put out before.

“He-he can eat th-the food and ...b..uh.. be proud of us!”

Virgil got on to it, totally absorbing himself in the magical art of fucking preparing food - a meal, even so. The only thing was that the whole process seemed a little lost on him. Once the oil was in and the stove started to heat up the pan along with the oil, he was a bit.. clueless and left to the devices of a person just as unknowledgable as a child. Or, well, a drunkass FULLY grown adult who does not understand life but is tall enough to eat BABIES.

Helplessly, he turned to Remy as the oil startd to change. It did not look just the same as before, there was something happening. There were small bubbles and it felt like some bride’s veil was just dropped in this shit and now everything was slowly whitish but in a really weird and odd blur. Holy fuck, it got more.

There was even more. They got more and more by the minute, soon enough covering the bottom of the whole pan and effectively taking over the oil.

Oh no. It was... It could not be!

This shit was fighting the oil.

“REMY”, Virgil yelled instinctively as he grabbed his smaller man and hugged him close, effectively trapping him in the sweet embrace of absolute and immediate anxiety edging on panic.

The smaller individual stared at the oil, the whitish bubbles in it and saw the sizzling, witnessed the soft little sounds, almost friendly enough to woe him into believing its innocence but he was smarter than that. He would not be fooled into falling for this cheap trick. He was a serious and super intelligent man. He was capable, strong, handsome, gay, hungry and even more fucking gay if he did not mention it before.

Nothing and nobody would or should ever mess with a Queen, a Diva like Remy.

Not even oil. No matter how tasty and delicious it seemed to be .. or smell. How did simple greasy shit already smell so aromatic? Honestly, this was peak restaurant ambient!

Remy held his tall boy and hissed back at the rude intruder.

“Oh, you -”, he challenged with the sudden flow of determination hitting him. The alcohol was driving into his bloodstream and fuelling his confidence to the point of proud idiocy.

He eyed the pan... quickly, he could realise the oil jumping at them, starting the fight, picking up weapons and hitting the first men!

“TAKE COVER!”

The malicious entity has chosen.. death. Ah, alright. Remy saw that. Remy understood.

He was a clever man.

He blinked, refreshing his mind and eyes at once. Within SECONDS - because he was a genius among mortals - he had calculated e v e r y t h i n g.

The oil was coming for them, launching missiles of little white bubbles and hot hard pain at them. It was seething, it was cruel and it was not the last word of blood and injury spoken between them. Remy predicted the attacks swiftly, his mind working overtime at the task of working out a plan as he threw himself against Virgil to dramatically shift them out of shooting range.

They needed to be safe from this evil monster, the ill-spirited being of oily disasters and compromised bubbles of seething, white rage.

“Virgil, Virgil we - “, he started, gasping his words out as if a terrible injury was keeping him from breathing and speaking properly, “we need to stop it!”

The long man nodded, gaze shifting from the monstrosity of oil he had unleashed and the alarmed face of Remy’s usually so calm features. He reminded him of a person at gym, you know, those fitness coaches that were really into physical exercise and they would push you to your limits so hard, you wanted to cry. Kinda. A weird cry of yes and no but it was no maybe, not really. Actually, it was not maybe at all.

It was weird and it was painfully feigned enthusiasm for self-torturing devices.

Wait, how did he - Oh yes, the oil.

“We, um.. uh .. stop it”, Virgil agreed.

A small tinge of regret stabbed him like the shady little bitch it was. Just a fucking little backstabber getting back at him - literally, pun not intended - when he least expected it, when he was exposed and vulnerable. Okay, he was always vulnerable.

Virgil waved his hand around as if to fan the danger away with his magical drunk powers of dummy-thiccness.

“We can distract it”, he slowly suggested, his voice slowing down significantly, “away from us.”

His hands were parallel to one another, as if to indicate a certain length that was the space between his hands. The palms faced one another and he moved the pair of hands from one side to another with an air of importance surrounding him.

Remy nodded with great authority.

“Amazing plan!”

He agreed with a cheer and stared back at the raging fireworks of oil bullets littering the kitchen with greasy spots and defacing destructing. The situation got out of hand, slowly but surely so.

Burning olives could be smelled. They were the souls of the dead, the fallen and forgotten. Their sacrifice would not be for nothing, it would not be dismissed as collateral damage.

Virgil dashed forward, running straight through the shower of oily precipitation raining down on him, his vulnerable pastel soft self. He screamed, screeched and cried in battle demeanour and aggressively threw his head back to face his opponent.

“I will take it from here!”

Virgil stared at the pan, the drawer underneath it heavily attacked by the angrily steaming monster. It was where all the lids were.

“Ri!”, the pastel baby called through the loud hissing and shrieking of the raging dumpsterfire that was hot and burning oil, “You go bash that meat into this shit”

Virgil swallowed hard, the words on his tongue too much for him to comprehend, tears forming in his eyes as he came to terms with what he was about to announce. “I will go get the lid and shut this fucker up”

Silence.

When radios or TV channels hit an error, there was that weird static sound, somewhat intense and monotone but persistent. It was this kind of sound that seemed to dominate the battlefield the oily savage had forced upon this kitchen. Their kitchen..... It would pay for it.

Remy’s beautiful face of love and darkness was derailing into a shocked movement of mouthing protests, proposing empty alternatives to the plan. Virgil shook his head decidedly, not even paying mind to the multiple Remys before him.

It was just an oil job. That shit had messed with their kitchen enough but it would not mess any further with him and one of his dear beloved ones.

He looked down at his arms, spots of burned skin meeting his vision. Future scars of the heroic action he was about to complete. There was flesh missing in his mind, in this kitchen. It was lost like the comrades they had forever missed in battle. The salt shaker, the cocktail glass... The little spoon with sugar crystals still on and around it. They had fallen and they were to never return.

The two engaged in eye contact for a moment lasting longer than a heart’s eternity. Their eyes longingly connected, just a bit, only a second.

Remy gulps down his hesitation and fear. While the oily giant was harmless at first, it was fear-inducing and absolutely horrifying by now. It was teaching them the lessons of obedience and pain - the hard way. Their hearts knew love from each other but they also felt the terror blown into them by the horrific enemy rising in their kitchen.

Virgil nods.

The time has come.

The nod was slow, an exaggerated movement in order to make sure Remy would not miss it. Compared to the following actions, it was basically slow motion. Then, everything happened at once, happened in quick succession and happened incredibly so.

Remy dashed forward to the meat and just flung it right into the pan at once while Virgil slid all over the floor to the drawer and Pulle out a lid just to immediately smash it on top of the pan, covering up the oily mess and saving them from the dictatorship or violence and hatred.

Just like that it was over, they counted their wounds and embraced each other as shivers and memories crawled up their spines. They knew what have been through and they wouldn't be able to just live it down. It would stay.

The raging fire of the defeated oil could still be heard but it was contained at last, it was not out there to hurt them anymore. they were safe and sound in each other's arms. Remy squeezed the pastel blob in his arms, the slightly taller male wincing at the friction and pressure against his wounded skin. His exposed arms smelled like burned meat.

Or maybe it was just the actual minced meat cooking in the pan. They didn't know.

The sage hand turned down the heat of the stove and Virgil gently nuzzled his boyfriend's neck, his fine face quickly hidden in the collar of Remy's black jacket. Not even at home was the place for Remy to take it off. He was more comfortable in it and he absolutely was right in just how stunning and badass he looked with it decorating his biceps.

Virgil gently dove deeper into the embrace and just sighed, softly mumbling nice things, little praises and compliments for his beloved datemate. The other carefully reassured him, told him he was proud and that it was over.

The oil was still angrily boiling and loudly seizing the meat inside.

Remy carefully nudged his love and have his cheek a little smooch.

"We did it" he concluded and gently squeezed his hands. Virgil nodded, lips curved up and humming in affirmation. "You're a brave one, Rem", he shot back.

The addressed man let out a small sound, something akin to a groan. His cheeks were dusted in red feathery delight of a warm blush. He gently shook his head and peppered a few more kisses all over Virgil's scarred face.

"No, you", he softly countered.

Virgil giggled and shook his head as he pulled away and turned to the food. The smell of cooked meat was reaching up to their nostrils, spoiling and temping them with the luxurious scent of a promising meal.

His stomach rumbled in anticipation.

"Cheese?"

Remy tilted his head as he carefully pushed Virgil out of the way to stir the food without getting hurt. Even with some oil spilling around and shooting into his direction, the jacket protected him. Virgil's soft appearance wasn't covered up enough for him to be safe from the deathly syringes of oil doses. He got the hint and stumbled around to get his jacket. Emile and Remy had hade it for him.

He loved it so much.

"Yes, cheese. Of course"

The two, now oddly sober, cuddled up before the stove and got into the whole cooking process.

Virgil got cups of actual water for them at last and they both drank this. They didn't feel ask dizzy and odd anymore, nor just focused and immersed in the idea of eating food. The smell really did it to them.

Virgil had added some spices and Remy sneaked some more crisps into his mouth, occasionally feeding some to his beloved soulmate. Well, one of them.

He softly rests his head against Virgil's shoulder as he stirred cut tomatoes into the mix. Some herbs and beans were added by Virgil at this moment.

Who would have thought they would eventually get to make food at all? They certainly believed in it, during the times when they actually remembered wanting to make food.

The pastel pal snuggled up to Remy, leaning against the much stronger one and simply dozing to the delicious smell of probably just slightly burned food. Remy nudged his datemate to the couch to doze a bit. Virgil was hugging a bundle of blankets rather than covering himself up. He looked ready for more hugs as he silently whimpered for Ri to give up on the food and just cuddle him.

Meanwhile, Remy mixed grated cheese under the food and added fresh lettuce like the genius he was. His mind was young, hungry and drunk but he was also wild and free. Especially free of logic. The emptied cans were cluttered all over the kitchen and barely any space was left unoccupied from the drunk ramblings of idiot amateur cooks.

Towels, trash, cutlery and plates were all over the place, some cutting boards adding to the mix and obviously many bottles and cups. The oily mess all over the counters and the floor wasn't even spoken of at this point. There were still so many other stains in the usually so clean and tidied up kitchen. Usually, Remy would take care of cleaning the kitchen, keeping it neat and clear at all costs but right now, he was not in the mindset. He was drooling over the food the had made. It was probably way past midnight, yet he was focused on the food.

The steaming hot goddess was lazily falling from his big cooking spoons as he stirred and mixed stringy cheese into the mix of spices and meat and so so many tomatoes. Considering their state, they could have cooked worse food. The heaps of reddish "stew" heavily fell back into the pot. By now the strings of molten cheese were drawing lines and twirl through the wonderful creation.

Oregano tickled his nose.

He got a big bowl and basically spilled 80% of the stuff into it. The bowl greedily absorbed the food, taking it in and deliciously spreading itself with the tempting smell and sight. in Remy's mind, he had halved the whole drunk masterpiece of smells and tastes but reality didn't exactly reflect his beliefs accordingly.

He didn't mind the few bits of mashed-up food staining the sides around the bowl. Not that the kitchen was suddenly turned into a worse mess by this. It wasn't a significant addition but rather the cherry on top of a true mess.

Anyhow, the food was done and ready to feed them. He got three spoons in all his laziness and wobble his tickling legs into the living room with his love. Emile would be bs ck soon and he would be able to eat with them and enjoy it along with them. It was just a matter of minutes, right?

The goth popped up next to Virgil, dropping the bowl on the table with the flattering spoons clashing onto the glass table in front of them. Virgil was curled up in his corner, stubbornly and lovingly hugging the pile of pink blankets. They had a rose pattern all over them. As much as Remy adored seeing the contrast of Virgil's mostly white and pastel pink appearance with the more intense rose colour and the floral patterns. Green and reddish hues seemed so stark and radical next to the soft colour scheme that he presented with his peaceful figure of a dozing drunk cuddlebug. Still, the knowledge this used to be a gift his ex had given him didn't sit right with him. Not exactly, at least.

Remy nudged him.

"Love, the food is done", he gently reminded him, him voice pressing against its ground and keeping it as low. It was a ducked down figure in a dark corridor at night when everyone was asleep but the little figure that was the voice.

"huhmm", the pastel punk mumbled softly and stirred ever so slightly, his curled up body opening up for Remy to fill his arms rather than the blanket. His halfway covered face was more visible by now since he tilted it a bit.

Remy smiled a tad.

"Come over love", he invited gently and patted his lap as he brushed over Virgil's arched back with his other hand. "mwmm"

Remy hummed back in return.

The pastel bean shifted over into his boyfriend's lap, resting himself in it with the upper half of his body as he curled up on the new space, now with his arms loosely wrapped around nothing but the love between them.

He felt Remy brush one hand through his dyed hair and his lungs immediately relieved a breath which came out in the form of a sigh. The smaller of the two giggled.

He hummed.

''You slee..sleeby..?'', he asked softly, his voice ending in a low hum.

Thoughts and words were mentally swirling around like noodles in a nostalgic childhood soup. You know – the ones with noodle letters in it. They were aimlessly whooshing from side to side, queerly dancing in an uncertain rhythm with uncoordinated movements guiding them into the unknown. Neither Virgil nor Remy were ready to bring order into the mess of lost letters and unconnected pieces.

There was some sense between them when Virgil basically purred under the ghastly touches, these bare fingers gracing his skull and caressing his pounding head. The tall man curled up into a ball, reaching out to lazily grab one of the hands Remy needed to keep around him somewhere. In his hazy state of mind, Virgil just somewhat expected a random Remy-hand to float around before him because surely the hand to touch him was in front of him .. logically. Yes, he totally deduced that by means of not looking around because his eyes were so heavy with the pleasure of being touched so delicately, the satisfaction of being handled with great care as if he was a fragile glass of thin sugar – just a moment about to break apart, melt away or dissolve into sugary water.

Sadly, his extremely intense and complex calculations turned out to be – surprisingly – wrong after all, leaving Virgil wondering just how he ended up with an empty handful of nothing but all the needs for more body contact he had harboured in it before his attempt at catching more of at least one of his beloved datemates. Involuntarily, he let out a sound of disagreement, a sort of angry hamster sound.

His hand fell over Remy's lap, simply collapsing over it with the sound of frustration and slight anger accompanying the dramatic fall of his unmotivated limb. Virgil instinctively curled further into his fetal position as Remy tried his best to conceal the chuckle rumbling up from within his chest.

He was trembling with amusement but, picking up on the distressed Virgil-sounds, he reminded himself to maintain at least a small amount of countenance in order to not repeatedly poke his sensitivities. The goth was not making fun of him after all or finding his distress to be somewhat entertaining at all. His drunk brain just... short-circuited at how adorable yet odd his lovely idiot sounded when he randomly stretched out his arm just to immediately let it flop down onto his lap and just groan at it as if moving was the worst punishment to ever happen to him.

Virgil's hands were already working up to his hood, confused finger tips tugging at it and letting it clumsily slip through them because fabric was so hard to hold onto. His uncoordinated grip on them caused him to lose his motion many times as Remy leaned back to give him the space he needed to curl his fingers around the hem of his hood. He squealed and screeched in anger at the exhaustive process of getting this right.

Eventually, though, he got his fingers tightly buried in the hood, knuckles turning white as his tired kind just moved his head along with motioning the hood to lower over his head and prevent the access Remy's gentle fingers used to have to his soft hair.

''Oh, darling, nu'', Remy tried softly, his voice attempting to reach out to the closed off taller bean before him. ''Hey there, lil' coff'he bean''

He poked around, carefully searching to reach the long nose in the excess of fabric that stretched over a great part of Virgil's face. It averted itself when Remy fianlly got around to brush against his nose.

''Nu'', he spat out at once, his hands trying to pull the blanket over him as well.

Remy patted his head but the so-called ''coffee bean'' was retreating and hissing at him.

''Com'on, my coff' bean'', he cooed once more, his voice softly sneaking into Virgil's mind, into his heart. Slowly and surely, it got around to actually stop his fingers from pawing at the damned blanket. This cursed stupid pink fabric with its silly roses and vines all over it.

...M.. Shtupid.. roses.. n stupid ''Princey'' guy.. This was their Virg. Theirs only.

Remy kept himself from narrowing his eyes at the enemy. There was no time to be jealous when his little bean curled away from him. This was worse heartache to him than a past lover he and Emile had clearly helped Virgil get over. He nudged him again and the pastel ball returned another hazy noise in reply. It sounded much like a stubborn ''nu-uh!''

''I didn ..laugh about yu, my dear'' He cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes patiently. '' 'm just laughed b'cuz ..am so hap-...happ...happy to be wif..wiff you-you'', he started, a little hiccup interrupting him, ''and to see you“

Another hiccup rudely disrupted his flow of speech.

''in mah lap, hun.''

The charcoal-clad man nudged his love's cheek tentatively, barely managing to draw a response from him. ''mmm.... mean'', he retorted insistently.

''Virgiiiiiiiiiiiil'', he whined at once, ''I made fuuuuuuud!'' He inhaled deeply, sitting a moment for the dramatic effect. Or really, he was just waiting because his mind drew a blank on whatever else he had intended to say at some point in time. Uh.. he had made food.. there was food and he was with Virgil and he made the fud for him and Emi and.. uh..

Ah! Yes!

Remy blinked excitedly and nodded to himself, congratulating his genius of a mind that suddenly recovered the thought process lost to the alcohol dampening and slowing down his cognition. He leaned in, bowing deep over the protesting bundle of purple and black. From the lack of words, he wanted to think that Virgil was dozing off and forgetting about the little misunderstanding between them.

''If yu... wan...nn..wanna'', he slowly suggested, ''I can.. feeed you-hoooo''

Virgil slowly blinked, his eyelids breaking open to reveal his dark embers of small orbs.

''Mh?'', he murmured. His head pushed back to Remy's lap and quickly nudged his chubby stomach with careful, uncoordinated movements of a person not just anything but sober but also sleepy and full of feelings.

He tasted love on his lips and gently brushed his tongue over them. ''Ri'', he demanded, voice soft with sleep and heavy in the exhaustion from fighting to stay awake, stay conscious and mindful of his surrounding enough to understand his present datemate at least.

The addressed man patted his hooded head softly.

''Com’up'', he mumbled back and tugged at the sleepy giant in his lap. Virgil was soon sagged against Remy but at least sitting. His left still fruitlessly brushed over Remy's lap.

Hug... He.. He wanted a hug.. Hug.. Hug Remy.

''Riiii'', he soothed softly, voice still just a whisper if any. The goth drew an arm around him and pulled him closer against his shoulder. ''M here, hon'', he assured patiently, mind already wondering just what they were doing again, '' gotcha close.''

He nuzzled the top of his head and carefully left a not of his love on it with a little peck.

Virgil snuggled up to him, his body fitting just perfectly to his side. They were a perfect match, all that was missing was a bit of food now. And a bit of Emile, of course. Emi would make it all perfect. Remy drew him closer and simply let them hug one another for a bit longer. More like waiting for Virgil to slowly gather up his energy and bodily control to eventually embrace the other fully and just rest in each other's love.

The taller one hummed against his collarbone, eyes comfortably closed in contentment.

''You said.. fud..?''

Remy laughed.

''Yeah''

*** The night draped over the village, hugging every little building and lamp post for comfort and love as it lovingly warmed everyone into a world of dreams and happy thoughts. It was the end of the day, it was late and actually almost time for yet another day.

Emile rubbed his eyes, keys to his car jingling in his hands as he approached the door. He had never expected a catch-up to take this long but the afternoon just spun further and further into a late evening and eventually, they had switched locations in order to extend their get-together beyond the point of midnight.

Any texts of updating information to his lovers had been to no avail. Emile thought they were having too much of a good time or perhaps even went to sleep when 3 am had arrived. He did not know how they were doing but he trusted them to be fine, to relish in just being two chaotic yet lovely cryptids together.

He straightened out his dark blue suit and ran a hand through the strawberry blonde mess of formerly gelled-back hair.

His hands worked to unlock the door and once he stepped inside, he shut the door behind him. At once, a certain.. smell hit his nostrils.

He was not sure what it was but it was obvious that the flat had not been aired out properly. The air was thick enough to try and grab a piece out of it. And the scent? It reminded him of a greasy fast-food truck. If he had to guess, maybe something like chilli cheese hot-dogs? He was not sure but there was something spicy in the hair.

It kinda stung.

Emile blinked and switched on the light, quickly taking off his dark overcoat and the first layer of his suit along with his dress shoes. He was left standing in his vest that was hugging his firm statue, accentuating each and every part of his muscular body.

A part of him wanted to call out for his beloved ones but he knew them, he knew the partying souls living in the calm giant that was the pastel-soft Virgil. He was more than familiar with the outgoing and extra kind of behaviour Remy would display with just a bit of party around or in him. He did not intend to torture them with loud noises when he knew they were wild spirits just waiting to run free and roam around without any constraints. They deserved to rest well after partying hard, to be honest.

Emile slowly moved into the bedroom just to find it .. void of the silent snores and little shuffles that came from the drunk sleep of his beloved mates. Instead, there was nothing and he simply frowned at the empty bed. The bed was made, still so it was obviously untouched. Nothing had happened here and none of his lovers happened here for sure.

A part of him wanted to call out for them by now but something held him back. This something was lingering within him as he peacefully stripped his body off the suit and changed into his pyjamas. When he came across his phone, he decided to tap their contacts and just call one of them and then the other, just in case they went out and one did not pick up at first. With the two being tipsy or even drunk, there was no knowing for sure.

He put the phone on speaker and got into his flannel PJs.

Toot.

Toot..

Faintly, somewhere, he could hear something. At first it was so distant and weak, he nearly overheard it, due to the sound of his pyjama stretching over his body being louder than the faint tone in the background. However, once he stilled his movements and stopped dead in his tracks, he was able to identify a sound - even the nature of it.

“I’m on the battlefield like OH MY GOD”

It was Remy’s ringtone.

“Yes, I’m a one woman army”

Emile blinked, the song now clear as day in his mind as he finally identified the muffled sounds. He picked up his phone, fingers flying to grip it and shut the loudspeaker.

“oh la la, oh la la ~”

The song was indicating him to come closer, luring him in and playing hint for his curiosity. The mind was working as he took it step by step through the dark apartment. The end of his pants were dragging over the floor as he sneaked over the ground, his feet merely separating from it with every step he took. His feet ate every bit of sound as he walked, progressing at a speed so slow and cautious, he felt as if he was walking on eggshells rather than the socks Remy had made him by hand.

The sound was getting closer, the persistent, cocky voicelines of the singer were shooting through his mind as he carefully approached the scene. Before him was the darkness leading up to the kitchen. The light from their bedroom was illuminating his way to it.

With a usual movement as if everything was as it used to be, as if there had never been a war and losses in this field of tragedy and blood, Emile switched on the lights and revealed the graveyard of oil and hopes.

The sight was quite a bit- Pans and pots were stacked on top of one another. Spread over a turned off stove and the abused sink who witnessed it all. Stains of any kind seemed to repaint the counter, floor and partly even the ... the ceiling? How did they do that! Unbeknownst to Emile, the horrors of battle drew consequences nobody would be able to imagine. Of course it would paint the world into a new picture, it would change reality and distort beauty into true abominations of cruelty.

There was a bloody puddle of oil on the floor, a pool of death juice tainting the world of the living with what used to be, what used to exist and live and grow. It was no more.

He slowly, respectfully stepped forward, deeper into the red flags of the forbidden zone. There was desolation and chaos. Cutlery, foods and spills whatever in any place and spot free enough to accommodate it. His feet slowed as he progressed further into the field of war, the area of missing people and lost souls.

He walked through the mess, skipping over dead utensils and empty packages. There were bottle caps all around and the worst was little glitter particles and sparkles all around. Maybe they had mixed drinks with glitter. In the context of the battlefield, it looked like the luck and happiness that used to wield yet now it was broken and scattered in the wind of change, the breeze of ends.

Emile watched the drain in horror as he identified tiny pieces of fruit stuck in it. Cocktail cherry bodies blocking the water from ever flowing into the sweet relief of the sewers. It was forever trapped in the sink along with the dying cutlery.

He strove through the devastated lands, through the chaos and destruction. His eyes did not see the past, did not see the struggle to stay alive - to be safe. He was blessed with the ignorance of arriving fashionably late to the scene and just luckily skip out on all the war. He never had to experience the torture of the oil giant. Emile did not even realise how much of a chosen man he was with the entitlement of being spared with mercy and love.

His innocent soul floated above the rotten land, the stabbed and wretched floors and towels soaked with tears, blood and sweat. The salt of ruined soil was poisoning the roots of a new generation. He simply skipped through it, free of guilt or memories. He was not drawn to the tragedy of what used to be. Instead, he marched over to the living-room to finally find the treasure he had been looking for. His flannel-clad self, the pirate of the suffering lands was here to take advantage of the tired soldiers of oil wars.

As unexpected, there was a bundle of black and a bundle of rose snuggled up together, the colours weirdly merging into one fusion of softness. The pattern of roses naturally fit the blackness it was curled up around. It seemed like the most natural occurrence, a home-grown batch of adorableness. Emile blinked, his eyes behind his glasses still needing to adjust to the dark image before him. It was dark because he refused to switch on the lights when his loves could and actually did camp in this space.

“You two are lucky I love you so much”

His whisper slowly weighed down onto them, gracing them in their sleep and rocking them in warmth and affection. They were in the lap of love and safety, dressed in their own schemes and shenanigans with contentment painting their features and highlighting their position with lazy sparkles and soft contact to one another.

Emile bowed over them to draw another blanket over the two, just to make sure to cover them both in the warm coziness they deserved.

For another short moment, he relished in seeing the two embracing one another, Virgil curled against Remy and holding him so close, he would usually fear the other could suffocate - yet he knew better than to worry about them. Remy enjoyed a surprisingly large amount of squishing and a comparably lousy amount of space for sleeping.

After this, he slowly and softly walked away, step by step, back to the bedroom to nap on his own, all alone in their big big bed. He snuggled up with his excess of blankets and soon enough fell into a deep sleep, completely unbothered by everything that used to be and will be. For now, everything was different and so cool compared to how it would be per default but that did not mean his night could not be nice. Relieving dreams soon settled in his mind, abandoning all possible worries in his mind.

Morning was soon to come.

#remy sanders #Remy sleep #remile #emile sanders #ts emile #Emile Picani #remilexiety #virgil #virgil sanders #virgil anxiety #sanders sides virgil #ts virgil #domestic fluff #flirting #ot3 #fanfiction #fanfic #fanficion #fanfic fluff #ts fanfic

[atths--twice]

Chapter Four  4/9

Corner Diner December 16, 2017 7:30 a.m.

Scully sat in the diner the next morning, yawning before taking a drink of her coffee, the mug warming her hands. She sighed as she held it, looking up at Mulder outside, paying for a paper, opening the door and taking it out. Smiling, she shook her head at the old habits that did indeed die hard. He walked inside the diner and smiled, sitting down beside her and setting the paper to his left.

“You know, there is an app on your phone for the news,” she said, glancing at him and pushing his cup of coffee toward him. He nodded with a smile as he picked up the mug and took a drink.

“I do know that, yes,” he said, licking his lips. “I used it this morning, but I obviously don’t get the local news, the heartbeat of the area if you like.” He grinned and she shook her head, drinking a little more before setting down her mug.

The waitress brought over their food and Scully thanked her as she walked away. She heard Mulder exhale a breath as she glanced at him. He looked at the plate before nodding as he pulled it towards him. She picked up her fork and the fruit bowl from her plate.

“Am I so predictable?” he asked, gesturing to the meal on his plate, as he reached for the syrup and poured it on his pancakes.

“Predictable? I wouldn’t use that word,” she said, eating a piece of cantaloupe and smiling at him.

“Boring?”

“You?” she asked with a snort.

“Obvious? Unsurprising?” He licked his finger as he wiped the syrup bottle, and grinned as he picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite.

“No. I just know what you like.” He looked at her again and her breath caught as she realized what she had said and how it sounded.

Memories of the taste of his skin, his hands on her body, and the way he felt inside of her, rushed to the forefront of her mind, and she felt her face flush. But then he started humming Chantilly Lace and she shook her head as she rolled her eyes, the tense moment passing.

“Mulder, I’ve known you for almost twenty five years,” she said softly. “I know what you like to order.” He nodded with a smile and she smiled back.

He placed a piece of his bacon on her plate as she ate one last piece of fruit before setting the cup beside his plate, leaving him the blackberries. His knee bumped hers under the counter and she bumped back with a smile as they continued their meals.

______________

All Saints Memorial Hospital 9:30 a.m.

“I can’t give you more information than what has been steady since they were all brought here,” Doctor Audrey said with a shake of his head, as they stood in the hallway outside the room of Farrah Francois. “There were so many of them. Five dead and three in a coma-like state, nothing we did could bring them around. And the other two…” He shook his head again and Mulder looked at him.

“Why do you suppose the other two weren’t affected the same way?”

“Honestly? Medically? I couldn’t tell you,” he said, looking at Mulder with troubled eyes. “They were both really out of it, babbling incoherently about angels, graveyards and screaming, both hearing it and doing it sporadically, as we attempted to sedate them. And they constantly said they were cold. So cold.” Mulder caught Scully’s eye and raised his eyebrows. She nodded slightly and pointed to the room.

“Could we see her?” she asked.

“Yes, but…” Doctor Audrey looked through the glass and sighed. “I would advise you to ask any other questions you may have out here, or save them for after we’ve seen her. There was an officer here a couple of weeks ago, asking a different doctor questions about her and she began to seize. It was the only time she responded… in any capacity, in nearly two months. It took a long time before we were able to calm her and she has remained that way since.”

“Understood,” Scully said softly and the doctor opened the door.

The beeping of the machines was the first thing she noticed, a sound she was accustomed to hearing, having spent many years in a hospital. The next thing she noticed however, was the quiet of the room, aside from the sound of the machines. It was a stillness that was foreign in a hospital room and it left her feeling unnerved.

Stepping closer to the bed, her eyes already assessing Farrah Francois as she lay in the bed. She was pale, but unsurprisingly so considering the amount of time she had been in the bed. She was hooked to an IV, bags of medication hanging from the pole. Reaching up, Scully touched the largest one, the bag of sodium chloride and found it to be warm. Shocked, she looked at the doctor and he nodded, a finger to his lips.

Letting go of the bag, she glanced at the other bags of medication, taking note of what she was being given. Mulder cleared his throat and she turned her head, finding him at Farrah’s left side. He had taken her hand out from the bed and was holding her wrist gently, presenting her arm to Scully.

As she stepped closer, she saw it. Lifting her eyes to his as she gently touched her arm, he nodded at her unasked question, placing Farrah’s arm back under the blankets. Staring at Farrah’s face, Scully took a deep breath, imagining how much pain she had been through and the road to recovery she would be on when… if she woke up.

Turning her head, she nodded at the doctor and he sighed with relief. They walked back into the hall and once the door closed, Scully crossed her arms, ready to ask him some questions.

“The fluids you’re giving her are warm, she has multiple blankets, and her arm was cool to the touch. Far cooler than a patient should be- even in a hospital.” She stared at him and he nodded looking at her curiously. “I’m also a medical doctor.” Doctor Audrey nodded, looking back through the window and sighing.

“We’re treating her, and the other patients, as though they have hypothermia.”

“Hypothermia?” Scully asked, frowning at him, her mind racing through the signs of hypothermia and how it would apply in a temperature controlled hospital room.

“Yeah.” He shook his head and sighed again. “When she came in, all of them, they were freezing. Shivering and cold to the touch.”

“But it wasn’t cold enough, nor long enough for hypothermia to set in,” Mulder asked and Scully looked at him, nodding in agreement.

“You’re absolutely correct,” Doctor Audrey said with a slow nod of his head. “I… like I said it was confusing when they were brought in. Five were DOA, three were comatose, and two were raving like lunatics. It was… I’d never experienced anything like it.”

“But,” Scully said, glancing at the room again. “She’s still cold to the touch. That was nearly two months ago and hypothermia, especially if treated right away, would have dissipated by now.”

“I know.” She looked back at the doctor and he shook his head. “As a medical doctor, I know you understand the signs, treatments, and risks of hypothermia. But… this is unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed. She was freezing and we began treating her immediately. Once she warmed up, we thought she would start to come around, but she didn’t. None of them did. Once we stopped active measures as they began to maintain, they crashed. Their heart rates slowed, they began to shake as though they were seizing, but it was from being cold. As soon as we gave them warm fluids, warming air, heating pads and blankets, they evened out again. If they are not on a round the clock routine, they fail.” They both stared at him and he sighed tiredly.

“But even after all those measures, she’s still cold.,” Scully stated.

“And she has goosebumps,” Mulder added.

“I know,” Doctor Audrey sighed. “The goosebumps… that’s one I can’t understand or explain. It’s been like that since she came here. I… I don’t…” He shook his head and closed his eyes briefly. “She’s cold to the touch yes, but without the care we’re giving her, it’s much worse. It’s as if...” He stopped, looking away and licking his lips, appearing nervous.

“As if what?” Scully asked softly. He turned his head and looked back at her, taking a breath before opening his mouth to speak.

“It’s almost as if she were dead.”

___________________

Scully sighed as she looked out the car window, thinking about what the doctor had said and how she would treat the kids if she were their physician.

They had seen Tyler Landry, Jonathon Breaux, and Regina Wallace before they left, finding them in the same state as Farrah, though not as sensitive to questions being asked around them. All of them had persistent goosebumps, were cold to the touch, and had not woken since they had arrived at the hospital. Seeing so many of them, with no immediate answers to be of service, made her feel inadequate and impotent.

Zara Hebert had been moved to a private hospital, her parents, her father in particular, had felt the care she was receiving was not enough. Her father had screamed and shouted, Doctor Audrey had said, telling the doctors they were jealous and did not care for Zara as they should have because he knew the mayor and could rain hell upon the hospital.

“We sent over her records, telling them of her diagnosis and prognosis,” Doctor Audrey had said as they left, his posture slumping in defeat. “I truly hope they were able to help her.”

“You okay?” Mulder asked quietly beside her and she turned her head, giving him a small smile.

“Honestly?”

“I find it’s the best policy,” he said with a smile, parroting her words from a couple of days ago. Her smile grew and then she sighed deeply.

“I was thinking about the kids at the hospital, of course, but I was also thinking about my mom.”

“Hmm.”

“I was just thinking about… how hard it is to watch someone you love slowly die in front of you.” She turned her head and looked out the window again. “When I was told she had changed her advanced directive…” He reached over and covered her hand with his, squeezing gently and she squeezed back. “I was angry, but I understood. I just needed to… get there.”

“It’s hard to be on the other side of that hospital bed,” he said softly and she let out a breath, squeezing his hand and then letting go.

“Yeah… it is,” she agreed, thinking of days and nights beside his bed over the years. Sighing, she closed her eyes, the world passing by in a blur starting to make her feel dizzy.

_____________________

Home of Arielle Durand  1:30 p.m.

“Just… just to get it straight, I don’t want to talk to you,” Arielle said, pulling her thick black cardigan around herself, and rocking back and forth slightly on the couch. She wiped at her eyes and looked back at them defiantly.

She was a dark haired young woman with caramel colored skin and dark brown eyes. She looked tired and older than her twenty one years, her vast amounts of hair piled messily into a bun, her clothes hanging on her small frame.

“I understand and we thank you for speaking with us,” Mulder said kindly and she shrugged, looking down at the floor. Scully fanned herself, hoping it was not too obvious.

It was incredibly hot in the Monroe home, the heater running on what seemed to be full blast, causing her to sweat excessively. Mulder caught her eye and gave her a slight nod.

“Arielle,” Scully said softly, watching her as she saw Mulder in her peripheral, looking around the room. “I know you’ve given a statement to the police, that they have questioned you since, but we were hoping you could tell us what happened that night, what you remember?”

“If you have my statement, then you know,” she said, not looking up, pulling her cardigan even tighter around herself.

“Sometimes it helps to tell someone new. To talk it out again. Maybe there was something you forgot, or that-”

“You think I could forget that?” she asked, raising her head, her dark eyes full of fire. “I wish I could forget. I wish I didn’t think of it every second. I…”

She began to cry, covering her face with her hands. Her mother came into the room, rubbing her back and murmuring in her ear. Scully stared at her, flicking her eyes to Mulder as they waited for Arielle to calm down.

“I’m sorry,” her mother said, looking at them, smiling softly with a sigh.

“Don’t apologize for me!” Arielle said with a loud sniff. “Five of my friends died and I don’t know if the others will ever wake up!” She cried again, her mother wrapping her arms around her, and holding her close.

Scully wanted to leave, let Arielle be and come back later to speak to her. But then, she saw Mulder lean forward and she knew he would be taking the lead on the questioning.

“Arielle, please take your time. But when you’re ready, I have some questions I’d like to ask you.” His tone was gentle, one Scully had heard many times in investigations and in their personal life, and every time it touched her. Arielle’s mother looked at him, relief on her face as she nodded, still holding her daughter.

It took a few minutes, but eventually Arielle calmed down, Mulder handing her the box of tissues from the coffee table in front of them. She whispered her thanks and wiped her eyes.

“Mama, could you get me a… my jacket hanging behind my door?”

“Of course, my love,” she said lovingly, stroking Arielle’s hair before she walked out of the room.

A clock ticked loudly, chiming on the forty five minute mark when Arielle took a deep breath and looked up at them. She shook her head, dabbing her eyes with a tissue, as she took several more deep breaths.

“Here you go, honey,” her mother said, helping her put on the jacket she had asked for.

“Thank you,” Arielle whispered and her mother kissed the top of her head before leaving the room. She zipped up the jacket with a shiver and shook her head once more. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Mulder said softly and she nodded. Looking at him, she took another deep breath and began to recap the night.

After they had arrived, they danced and drank, having a fun time, laughing with their friends. The night was warm and as they danced, they were glad for the ruins of the church as it kept them all cool, in spite of the humidity around them.

“When we went outside…” She shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s there that things get a little more fuzzy. I could blame the alcohol, and the pot we smoked, but it’s not that.” She looked at them and they both nodded.

“Did you see something when you were out there?” Mulder asked, and she nodded and then shook her head.

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “I feel like I do, but… it’s hazy.”

“I understand.”

“You do, don’t you?” Arielle whispered, tears filling her eyes as she stared at him.

“I do.” She nodded and dabbed at her eyes.

“I remember… Davis, he was with me. I remember him squeezing my hand. I remember…” She gasped in a ragged breath, holding tightly to the neck of her jacket. “It was so cold. So… so cold. I thought… I thought I had died. The screaming. Jesus Christ…” She sobbed, bending at the waist and crying into her lap.

Scully took a deep breath and wiped quickly at her cheeks, removing any evidence of her tears. This was not about her and she needed to get her shit together before Arielle saw her, it simply would not do.

As Arielle’s sobs once again subsided, she began to rock back and forth, sniffling loudly and blowing her nose. She sat up, pulling the hood of the jacket over her head, shivering as she did. Keeping her eyes closed, she began to speak.

“It was so cold. It wasn’t… before. We were hot from being inside with everyone else. It was sticky outside and… Zach had gone out to pee, Zara said but he didn’t come back so we went to find him.” She took a few deep breaths, her eyes still closed. “The grass was… I remember my shoe got stuck so many times and Davis… he would laugh and help me pull it free.” She smiled and then her face contorted and tears leaked from her eyes.

“It was… was like… I can’t describe it. A feeling, a heaviness… but it went quiet. So very quiet, I could hear everything and nothing at the same time. My friends voices calling for Zach disappeared, the air felt thick, like we were underwater. And then…” She rocked back and forth, swayed side to side, her lips moving, but no sound coming out.

“Arielle?” Mulder said softly. She froze and nodded.

“Yes. That’s what happened. I heard my name, but not from Davis or any of my friends. It was a voice I’d never heard. It was beautiful and terrifying all at once. And then it was just terrifying.” She shook her head, whimpering softly. Scully looked at Mulder and shook her head, silently asking him to stop.

It was too much. For all of them.

He opened his mouth to say something, when Arielle took a deep breath and nodded her head.

“There was someone, or something, in the graveyard. I said before it was an angel, or something like it… but I… don’t know anymore. I saw a woman, or person, in a white dress, seeming to float by us, as it made no noise. Then… it was like I was pushed to the ground, forced to lie on my stomach in the grass. I heard screaming and I was so cold. I remember Davis squeezing my hand as the screams got louder, not just outside, but inside my head, and then they all fell silent. I thought we all had to be dead, because it was so dark and I couldn’t move. I was frozen.” She opened her eyes, but she did not seem to be seeing them, her thoughts somewhere else.

“It was quiet for what felt like forever, and I remember shaking uncontrollably. Then there were shouts, girls screaming and crying, and then someone was standing beside me, asking if I was okay, if I was hurt. I couldn’t answer them, just kept shaking. They put something on me, a coat or something, which was nice, but it didn’t help, not a bit.” She wrapped her arms around herself again. “Davis gently squeezed my hand and I knew he was okay. Or at least alive.”

Scully shook her head slightly, closing her eyes briefly as she imagined the fear she must have felt. What they all must have felt.

“I remember… a friend of ours Leann… she said Becca was dead. That… she wasn’t breathing and she was cold as ice. I started screaming, just screaming. I don’t remember stopping.” She shook her head and then looked at Mulder, seeing him this time. “I woke up in the hospital two days later. They’d kept me sedated because if I woke up, I would scream and cry, lashing out at myself and anyone who came near me.”

“You’d been through an ordeal, a terrifying experience. It’s understandable,” he said, his voice low and kind. She nodded and let out a breath.

“The police didn’t believe me, I know they didn’t and I know how crazy it sounds, but I know what I saw. I may not be sure if it was a man or woman, but I know I saw a person in a long white dress, walking soundlessly through the graveyard. Maybe they weren’t glowing, like I had thought, but there was someone there.” She stared at him and he nodded.

“I believe you.”

“Well, you’re just about the only one.”

_____________________

The air outside was a welcome change after being inside the warmth of the Monroe house. Scully fanned her blazer as she walked down the porch steps and to the rental car.

Mulder hung back, talking to Arielle’s mother, giving her their business cards, making sure they had access to either of them for any concern that may arise. Scully saw her mother nod and clasp Mulder’s hand in both of hers as he offered it in a goodbye handshake. The relief in her posture was evident; she had faith in them being able to help her daughter.

He walked down the steps and to the car, unlocking it with the key fob, and taking off his suit jacket. As she got in, he opened the back passenger door and laid it on the seat before getting in the driver's seat. As soon as he started the car, he blasted the air conditioner, tugging at his tie and unbuttoning the top button.

“Christ, I’m sweating in places I never knew were able to sweat,” he said, putting the car in reverse and backing up. She smiled slightly as she aimed the vents her way, fanning her shirt to let in the cool air.

“Seriously though, Mulder,” she said softly and he nodded.

“I know, Scully.” He glanced at her as they slowed to a stop at a four way stop sign. He waved the other driver ahead and looked at her again. “We need to talk to Davis and the others from the other party.”

“Whatever happened… right now, I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Me either.” He sighed and she attempted a smile. Instead, she lightly squeezed his hand where it rested on the gear shift and he squeezed back.

_____________________

“Well,” Mulder said as they walked back to the car after attempting to speak to Regina Wallace. “I’d say this day has been… it’s been a really rough fucking day.” He said with a small smile over the hood of the car and she nodded.

“It has indeed.”

They got in the car and put on their seat belts, both of them sighing as they looked out at the Wallace home. Her mother was still watching them, yelling and throwing her arms in the air, though they could not make out her words.

It had been the same at every home, aside from Davis’s, where his mother had cried and told them he was sleeping and to please come back tomorrow, grasping at both of their hands desperately.

“He’s not my same boy,” she had cried, taking their business cards and pressing them to her chest.

“What do you say we head back to the hotel, call it a night? Decompress and discuss what we’ve learned?” Mulder suggested with a tilt of his head, and she sighed as she nodded in agreement.

“I think maybe I’d like to get a drink first. I feel it’s needed after this afternoon.” He let out a breath and nodded. “Also, some food would probably be a good idea, seeing as how we skipped lunch.”

“Okay,” he said, starting the car and backing up. “I saw a place… O’Brien’s, I think it was called.

“No, Mulder,” she said, shaking her head. “I may not know everything there is to know about New Orleans, but I do know that if we’re going anywhere, it’s not O’Brien’s.”

“Is that right? Well then, do you have a place in mind?”

“Yeah, I saw it in the paper this morning,” she deadpanned.

“See? The local newspaper is good to have-”

“I’m obviously joking,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “Did you see me reading it this morning?”

“No.”

“No. Because I know how to use the apps on my phone. We’re going to Tropical Isle to get a Hand Grenade.”

“A hand grenade? That sounds… messy,” he said, cutting his eyes her way.

The tension of the afternoon melted away as she heard the sexual innuendo under his seemingly innocent remark. Not wanting to give him any hint that he had aroused her in any way, she shrugged as she programmed the address into her map app.

“I suppose it can be,” she replied nonchalantly, not looking his way but knowing how he would understand her implication. “But always worth it, right?” She looked at him then and watched him swallow before shaking his head and muttering under his breath. She smiled as the navigation began to give them directions.

____________________

Tropical Isle 5:15 p.m.

Tropical Isle was busy with people out and about looking for a drink during the holiday season. It was warm inside, with far too many bodies pressed close together, which added even more heat.

Taking off her jacket as they found a seat at the bar, she hung it on the chair and caught the bartender’s eye. He nodded and came over with raised eyebrows.

“Two Hand Grenades, please,” she said, smiling as she fanned her shirt a couple of times, the top few buttons undone. She saw his eyes flit down for a second and she felt both annoyed and slightly happy she could still elicit a look.

Especially at my age, she thought with a depressed sigh.

“So, I see you’re not above using your womanly wiles to get our drinks faster,” Mulder teased as he sat beside her and she bit back a smile.

“I have no idea what you mean,” she replied and he gave her a look.

“Uh huh,” he said, his own eyes glancing down at the hand still fanning her shirt.

“It’s hot in here,” she said with a shrug. “I’m not the one sexualizing my desire to not be so damn hot.” He shook his head and she raised her eyebrows.

“I’m sorry if that’s what I did, I just meant-“

“Mulder, I’m just busting your balls,” she said with a shake of her head. Now it was his turn to raise his eyebrows, a smile creeping across his face.

“You know I’ve never said no to you doing anything to-”

“Here you go,” the bartender said, interrupting his sentence, but she knew what he was going to say. Her heart pounded as she swallowed and reached for her drink. He exhaled and thanked the bartender as he took his own cup.

“Whoa,” he said, looking at her and she nodded with a smile.

The Hand Grenade was served in a green plastic cup aptly shaped like a hand grenade with a long neck, nearly like a beaker. It was filled to the top, where a small plastic toy hand grenade floated beside a green plastic straw.

“Well, this is uh…” He cleared his throat and she laughed before tapping her cup to his and taking a long drink.

Her eyes widened as she licked her lips. She looked at him and he raised his eyebrows in question. She nodded and took another drink.

God, that was good. Fruity and exactly what she needed after the day they had. She could feel the warmth of the alcohol burning her chest in the most wonderful way. Taking another drink, she closed her eyes and let out a breath.

“Oh, that’s really good,” Mulder said, smacking his lips together. He took the small grenade from his cup, squeezing out the liquid from inside of it. She followed suit and set the grenade onto the bar. They were quiet as music played and people laughed and conversed around them. Halfway through her drink, she looked at him and sighed.

“So, let’s decompress. Let’s hear your theory. I  know you have to have one by now,” she said, stirring her drink with her straw. He shook his head and moved his own straw around.

“Right now… I’m not entirely sure.”

“What? No more Doctor Who episodes to try and reference?” she teased and he looked at her.

“Oh, I can always find an episode for reference. Always.” She nodded, feeling the effects of the alcohol in her drink. “The ever present goosebumps, the inability to stay warm, what the doctor said about those in a coma… plus that thing with the figurines.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked with a frown.

“You didn’t notice?” She shook her head and he nodded. “It could have been a coincidence, but I noticed the little figurines around the room at Arielle’s were turned toward the wall.”

“I didn’t even see that,” she said, frowning deeper as she felt it should have been something that drew her attention.

“It wasn’t that many, just something I noticed. Again, it could have been a coincidence, but…” He shrugged, his palms  up.

“Hmm,” she hummed, thinking about it as she took a drink and nodded her head.

“Maybe it’s…  you know, people believe items can be haunted, a soul trapped inside and left behind. Dolls especially have been known to be a conduit of evil forces.”

“Yeah, Mulder, I know,” she said, giving him a look, taking a deep breath and then a big drink. “I witnessed that in Maine.”

“Would that be the weekend away when you were on vacation and definitely not working? When you most definitely did not help solve a case involving a possessed doll?” She stared at him, saying nothing as she narrowed her eyes and let out a breath.

“Oh ho!” he shouted. “She finally admits it.” He clapped his hands twice and gave her a smirk.

“Shut up,” she laughed, pushing against him and he chuckled. “I admitted nothing.”

“Your silence spoke volumes however,” he said with a shrug as she took another drink, surprised to find it nearly empty.

“Well, that was fast. Thirsty?” he teased, moving his straw around his own drink.

“I was. As you said, it’s been a rough day,” she said, sticking out her lip in a pout as the straw hit the massive amounts of ice in the cup. “And now my drink is gone.” She sighed and looked at him sadly.

“Let’s get another.” He signaled to the bartender and she shook her head.

“No, that’s okay. Well, at least not that one or you’ll have to carry me out of here.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time. Remember New Year’s at your moms?”

“Ugh… vaguely. What I do remember is the hangover and vomiting a lot the next day. And that Bill had been an asshole.”

“Yeah well, that’s almost always a given,” he mumbled and she bumped his shoulder. They both laughed quietly and he shook his head. “You and Tara were drinking those purple drinks, and then champagne, giggling away most of the night.”

“Those drinks were good- going down, not coming back up the next morning.”

“Hmm, no, it wasn’t.” He chuckled as she moaned, remembering that day: the cool of the bathroom floor as she had lay beside the toilet, the world spinning as she had emptied her stomach repeatedly, and the soft cool washcloth Mulder had rubbed across the back of her neck.

“You ready for another?” the bartender asked, cutting into her thoughts as he eyed her empty cup.

“Not of the same,” Mulder said with a smile, looking her way. She closed her eyes as she smiled, the alcohol making her feel happy and light, a stark contrast to the rest of the day. “What else you got? Maybe something that’s perhaps in a bit of a smaller cup?” The bartender laughed as he looked at Scully and she slowly opened her eyes.

“Got just the thing. Do you want the same or two different drinks?” he asked, nodding at Mulder’s cup.

“Different sounds good. We can share,” Mulder said and Scully smiled.

“Coming up,” the bartender said, tapping the bar and walking away.

“Do you want the rest of mine while we wait?” he asked, motioning to his drink.

“Jesus, no. New Year’s Eve, remember?” He laughed and finished off his drink, pushing both of their empty cups forward, but putting the two small hand grenade toys into his pocket. She glanced at him and he shrugged.

“You never know when it could come in handy.” She snorted and dropped her head onto her arms that were resting on the bar, the alcohol doing its job quite nicely.

A bell rang and whistles were blown and her head snapped up as she leaned back in her chair, staring in horror at the group of bartenders who had gathered around. She looked at the cup set down in front of her, a plastic frosted cup with light colored liquid inside, and wondered why they had felt the need to cause a stir for such a drink.

“Shark Attack!” their bartender yelled, and a plastic shark was thrust repeatedly into the drink, creating a mess on the bar as it  turned the drink red, as though the shark had truly attacked someone or something. “Holy shit! There’s so much blood!”

Scully put her hands up and sat back a little further, not wanting to get the alcohol on her. The bartender stopped, leaving the shark upside down in her cup, and she looked up at him, finding him grinning.

“Be careful, ma’am, that’s one aggressive shark.” He picked up a towel and wiped off his hands, winking at her as he stepped back, the patrons laughing and hollering as the other bartenders clapped and moved away.

“Well,” Mulder said, looking at her drink and touching the plastic shark laying atop the now very red drink.

“He called me ma’am,” she said with a pout dipping her finger into her drink and licking it clean. “Oh, it’s grenadine.”

“Did you think it was real blood?” he asked with a laugh and she glared at him.

“Do I look like an idiot?” she asked, picking up the drink, the straw missing her mouth, her tongue chasing after it until she caught it and took a big drink. She tilted her head, her eyes closing of their own accord.

“I’d say you look a little drunk,”  he said with another chuckle and she opened her eyes, his face slightly blurry.

“Horny Gator.”

“Excuse me?” Mulder asked, both of them turning to look at the bartender who grinned and set a drink in front of Mulder.

“Horny Gator, sir. Enjoy.” He nodded and walked away.

“He called me sir,” Mulder said, taking the small plastic alligators out of his cup and setting them aside.

“Pssh… as if sir is the same as ma’am.” She shook her head and set her drink down, taking the shark from her cup. She squeezed it, grenadine dripping slowly from it, before she dried it with a napkin and handed it to him. “For your collection.” He grinned and set it with the other items.

“How’s your drink?” he asked, taking a drink of his own.

“Good, how is your Horny Gator?” She smirked and he pumped his eyebrows.

“Pretty stiff,” he replied and she snorted. “Do you want to taste it?” She looked at him, so many comments coming to mind, but she chose to keep it clean.

“Sure,” she said, handing hers to him and they switched. Taking a drink and finding they liked the others better, they did not switch back.

The bar was becoming louder as people traipsed in from the street, calling to friends and laughing loudly as they discussed gifts being purchased for Christmas. Whistles went off, bells rang, and a mix of regular and Christmas music played over it all.

Scully felt the alcohol nearly to her toes, and she hummed as she stirred the straw around the plastic alligator cup and she licked her lips.

“Anything else I can get you two?” The bartender asked and Scully turned to look at him, feeling slightly dizzy. He winked at her and she raised her eyebrows, even as her eyes closed.

“No.” She heard Mulder say and she nodded in agreement. “We’ll just take the check.”

Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and looked at her drink, deciding if she wanted to finish it considering how she was feeling. One more drink and she pushed the cup forward and away from her. Best not to tempt fate.

“Done?” Mulder asked and she nodded with a hum. He smiled and she rested her head on her hand. He drank the rest of his and took out his wallet, handing his credit card to the bartender as he walked back with their check.

“I think we should get some food in you before that alcohol joins the others and well…” He looked at her and smiled. “We’ve already mentioned New Year’s Eve.”

“Pffft,” she responded, sticking out her tongue and he laughed. The bartender brought his card back and they gathered up their things. He scooped up the plastic animals and put them in his pockets, along with the plastic grenades.

Scully put on her jacket, the room spinning as she stood still, grabbing onto Mulder’s arm for balance.

“Yeah, food isn’t such a bad idea,” she agreed, holding his arm as they walked out of the bar.

Deciding on a quick slice of pizza, they ate as they walked back to the hotel, it not being far, leaving the car where they had parked it earlier, planning to pick it up later.

They passed a different bar, music playing loudly inside. Scully stopped walking and started dancing, slowly turning and swaying her hips in time to the beat of the music.

“Hey, come on, dancing queen,” Mulder said and she once again stuck her tongue out at him, causing him to laugh. He took her arm and led her toward the hotel, the beat of the song still playing in her ears, calling to her like a heartbeat.

Distracted with her continuing to dance, and Mulder preoccupied with keeping her walking steadily and staying on the sidewalk, neither of them noticed that they were being watched.

A mannequin in a shop window turned its head slightly, staring at them as they waited for the light to change. They stood close together, the woman happy and smiling, the man’s eyes watching her intently.

Anger filled the air around the mannequin, the window vibrating from it.

“Please, no! I don’t want to die! No! PLEASE!”

The vibrating stopped and the anger slowly abated, as the mannequin continued to watch the couple, the sound of a steady continuous beep bringing a smile to the previously blank and expressionless face.

#XFCase2020 #The X-Files #XF Fanfic #New Case #Interviews #Drinking #Hanging out together #Memories #A little bit drunk

[wildcherrylime-art]

i wanted to talk about my process for inktober a bit, both because i fully expected not to finish and because its pretty different from the normal content of this blog.  since i dont usually post text on here, it’ll be under a readmore

finishing any kind of inktober was absolutely not something that i ever expected to be able to do.  beyond that, i didn’t expect that it would be so relatively effortless -- there was never really a day where i was rushing to finish or when i came home very late and had forgotten about it.  the last day was the hardest, honestly, because between my lecture and helping a friend construct her costume and putting on my costume/makeup and my program’s halloween party i only had about 3 free hours to do it.  i skipped lunch with some new friends to go home and eat something quickly and finish it.

of course, i did break some rules.  the first four days were done in september, and the next 4 were done in october but earlier than when they were posted.  after that i did nearly all of them the day they were posted, except for one or two when i could tell that was going to be out of the house for 14+ hours and just wouldn’t have time to do it.  while the idea of “drawing every day” is nice and certainly possible sometimes, moreso for some people than others, its impractical at best when applied to real life (at least if you live the kind of life that i do).  

i had a relatively long list of goals for inktober, which i think personally helped keep me on track, only because it kept the focus so narrow.

choose an inktober prompt list that is fandom-specific to work on character consistency.  i tend to draw the same characters over and over but they generally dont have an extremely consistent look.  i considered both borderlands and the dark crystal inktober prompt lists but both of those have complex character designs, so moomin it was.

pick a brush and a program and stick with it.  i didn’t buy painter 2019 until i had already drawn the first few prompts so i used painter essentials 6 the whole time because i couldnt find a brush in 19 that looked similar enough.  the brush was “thick and thin pencil.”

lineart only.  no bg color and no large blocks of color that i couldnt lay down with the brush size 7.0-9.0

backgrounds for at least some of the art.  this dropped off towards the end of the month because my lectures started and my friends came back from their vacations, leaving me with less free time every day to develop and test out scenes before committing to the final version

do not try and make every piece the best you can.  i wasn’t looking to create my best work every day and it was absolutely not a goal right from the start.  i wanted art i could plan and execute in 30-40 minutes a day.  i wasn’t trying to challenge myself artistically every day, because the act of finishing inktober was the challenge in and of itself.  the only other inktober i’ve posted on here was heavily character design-focused and tbh i wasn’t experienced enough at that to do a whole month successfully.  i’d like to work on character design more in the future, along with more animal and creature studies.

if i miss a day or purposefully decide that i didn’t want to do it that day, stop and don’t try to make up what didn’t get done.  i’ve tried inktober before and usually before the end of the first week (even if i worked ahead) it became something i dread thinking about.  this time, i tried to have no expectations about how far i would get or how much i would like each piece.  i had a personal goal that wasn’t the last prompt and every piece done after that was just a bonus.  if i hit a day that i didn’t want to work on inktober, i would pack up the whole thing and just stop for this year.  there were some days where i really didnt want to do it (the 31st was probably the hardest day to do, like i said) but at that point it felt kind of ridiculous not to finish lol.

i’m not saying this is a good process for everyone, or even a good process in general, but its what got me through my first finished inktober and that’s what was important to me.  ive been feeling more comfortable and confident and like myself lately, especially now that i’ve finished this.  it makes me wonder what other things im capable of that i have so far always set off for some vague future date when i was “ready” to do them. 

interestingly enough, i was playing my oldest stardew valley save (late summer, year 3) this week when i realized that i had a shed completely full of unused supplies -- unprocessed ores, cooking ingredients, 1000s of wood and stone, harvested fruit i never made into wine, the list goes on.  i had all these goals for stardew.  i wanted to buy the expensive endgame items, get my fourth candle, start breeding slimes, win the alien rarecrow at the casino, expand my farm and finally fill the whole greenhouse with fruit trees and premium crops, ship every item.  i’d had everything i needed to do these things, or at least start really working towards them, but i wasn’t using them because i thought i needed to prepare more, that one day i’d have achieved my goals because i was ready to.

i want to feel confident in myself and my skills again.  the last few years have made it hard, both because things were hard and i was in dysfunctional situations and because my increasing doubts in myself made me uncertain and hesitant and that ruined opportunities that i had.  im ready to do things ive been putting off and hopefully you, dear reader, will see those things on my blog in short order.  

#charlie chats

[traveling-couch-potato]

Puerto Rico Day 6

Woke up at 8am feeling a bit under the weather. My throats been bothering me for a few days now but woke up feeling like I spent the night yelling at the top of my lungs. Walked outside of our room at Casa Flamboyant to the most gorgeous morning view of the rainforest and... Angel chilling on our hammock with al her bed pillows. She let me give it a shot and I now have half a mind to swap my mattress out for this hammock (and move to Puerto Rico over the rainforest of course).

After a few minutes of hammock shut eye we went upstairs to see that Ricky and Florin prepared us some coffee and tea. We grabbed a cup and headed into the Infinity Pool to welcome in the morning with a nice cool dip. Also all the water in the pool, tap, showers, etc, are all from the rainforest so all fresh, natural sources!

I don’t think anything could beat this kind of view or these kind of mornings.

After lounging in the pool for a while, Ricky informed us that breakfast was ready. He started us off with a plate of fresh fruit grown by themselves or their neighbors. He then followed it up with a cup of fresh Acerola (Puerto Rican Cherry) juice. As if that wasn’t enough, he then brought out our main course: poached scrambled eggs with a goat cheese sauce and tarragon, a homemade coconut arepa (unleavened Puerto Rican bread), a slice of Carribbean avocado (extra creamy due to the water content), and a link of Spanish chorizo. Oh my gosh this was all so good. Poaching the scrambled eggs made them even fluffier and the balance of the neutral but creamy avocado with the salty, fatty, spicy chorizo, and the crunchy, sweet arepa was everything my mouth could want.

After breakfast I ordered a brown bag lunch for Ricky and we gathered our things for our second stop of the day.

---------------------------------------------------------------

We only had about a mile to drive to our next stop, the south entrance of the El Yunque National Rainforest. There were 3-4 other cars parked out front but essentially no one around. According to Ricky there’s two main hikes. The first is a more difficult hike up the mountain past the main recreation area beyond the gate. We decided to give it a try. It’s as unkempt as he said and then some. We may or may not have hummed the Jurassic Park theme the whole time.

Jurassic Park-esque to the max.

We went about .3 miles before we hit a muddy river/rock/upward river? of sorts where my more experienced friend said we should avoid. We turned back, had some lunch at the recreation area, and decided to give the easier of the two hikes a try. This hike is closer to the front of the park entrance. I wouldn’t really even call it a hike. It’s a decently maintained path that leads to a spot right by one of the waterfalls. I was honestly relieved it wasn’t too strenuous cause I was definitely starting to feel my cold. Plus the view was decently worth the minimal effort.

---------------------------------------------------------------

With El Yunque off the checklist, we headed off to our Airbnb in Los Croabas. Compared to our luxurious loungings yesteray this place was....well not that... Leaking ceiling, no hot water, and so many mosquitos. The hostess did try her best with the other small amenities though but I’m relieved we’re only here for a night. We relaxed for a bit and headed to our dinner joint at La Estacion (well technically we went to CVS first for cold medicine). Besides breakfast, this meal was the only other highlight of the day. Great bilingual service and some of the best BBQ I’ve ever had (and I paid my dues in the South). We ordered the BBQ swordfish served w/ Arroz con Habichuelas and a sampler platter which included: a BBQ Cornish Hen w/ Alabama White BBQ Sauce, Brisket w/ pickled red onions and chimichurri plus an arepa, and 2 St. Louis style smoked ribs w/ a guava bbq sauce. This was paired with an American style potato salad and a summer salad of tomatoes, cucumbers, and onions. Seriously it was so much food and every item was so tender and flavorful and our servers were all so helpful and friendly.

---------------------------------------------------------------

After dinner we rushed off to our Bio-luminescent kayaking tour through Pure Adventures and well...that was quite something. To be honest it was mostly fun. Kayaking was a fun workout and it was amazing going through the mangroves at night until we hit a huge bay where we could see a ton of stars. We tied our boats together and got a brief lesson on dinoflagellates and their glowing effect. We ran our hands through the warm water and watched it glimmer with every twitch. It was mesmerizing. I also loved the view of this open water slightly sparkling with the tiny safety lights of so the kayaks. Crowded yet peaceful at the same time. But of course before we got there we had a mishap. Namely running into several mangroves and capsizing our boat and losing my flip flops in the process. I’m thankful I didn’t bring my camera but I did bring my wallet and phone. The latter was in a Ziploc bag and as of writing this we may have recovered it enough for me to not need to bring it in for repair. But let’s just say the rest of our night involved CVS/Walmart runs, bags of rice, and lots of hairdryers and paper towels. Also none of my Gopro footage of the night turned out cause of how dark it was but hopefully the flash photo the staff member took turned out nice.

Overall, it’s been kind of a rough day. My cold is peaking, damaged wallet and possibly phone, leaking ceilings/mosquitoes/no hot water. But it was all a fun experience (so long as my phone/wallet make it out alive, I’ll handle anything else.

#puerto rico #2019 #puerto rico travel tips #travel #travel blog #travel log #travel tips #wanderlust #fajardo #el yunque

[orionsangel86]

13x12 - Episode Review - What is Fifth Base Anyway?

So the people at Google must have been confused when they discovered the number of searches for “fifth base” drastically went up overnight… Steve Yokey you cheeky bugger I love you! (Show of hands everyone who did this? Go on, admit it!)

This episode was really good. One of the stronger ones of an already very strong bunch as season 13 continues to exceed in quality. It had jokes, it had deep emotional revelations, it had Cas once again using his SuperPower of sassing the fuck out of things to get what he wants. Yeah it was pretty awesome! So let’s delve into the main points.

The Red Herring Love Spell

We were all expecting this to be an episode similar to 12x11 based on how it was marketed to us. Dean is under a love spell! It’s up to Sam and Rowena to save him! That seemed to be the gist of the PR team’s focus. As ever, PR is not Showrunning and this turned out to be one giant red herring.

The love spell lasted all of five minutes. So why bother? WHY was a love spell even PART of this plot?! Seriously? Someone tell me how this episode couldn’t have followed the EXACT same narrative with the sisters using some other spell to force people to do things for them? The fact is, that love spell was pointless for the plot but excellent for getting people thinking about LOVE. Specifically, Dean Winchester and LOVE, or at least, what love should be, and what it most definitely is not.

Aside from the fact that the clunky music whenever the love spell was invoked made me cringe, I thoroughly enjoyed how innocent it all seemed. Dean got to play Prince Charming to the princess and provide her with a gift of her choosing. I think it says something about Dean that the love spell encouraged this fairy tale vibe specifically for him, when for Dale at the start it was all about him playing protector and hero through violence and theft. I just thought it was an interesting statement about Dean’s wishes and desires compared to other men. Though I gotta admit, the gift giving, goofiness and oh I dunno, protecting his lover from a gun? It all seemed rather familiar to me… Hmmm…

I mean who else has Dean previously entrusted with powerful one off weapons?

Who else has Dean had to recently protect from a pointed gun much to his own horror rather than the recipient who is unlikely to be harmed by a regular gun anyway?

Who else makes Dean goofy and pull these silly delighted faces?

*looks into the camera like on the Office*

Yeah, but see these are not really examples of true love, even though they are all things done with Cas. What IS true love in season 13 is something that subtextually KEEPs getting referred to in EVERY EPISODE. That in 13x01 – 13x05 Dean was deeply lost in grief. Deeply mourning over the loss of Cas – someone who he is truly in love with. Love makes you do crazy things? Yeah, and as Billy said in 13x05 (Yokey’s last episode FYI) Dean wanted to die. Cas’s death had brought him to that level. The fact that now it is SAM who is feeling low, feeling powerless because of the loss of Mary and Jack, and Dean is able to remain focussed and have HOPE that they will save them, continues to be astonishingly hypocritical of Dean given where he was when Cas was dead. But it does keep drawing our attention to that fact, and for that I love it.

Bonus point for “I think you may be right, I think its time we go ahead and call Cas…” … “I’m in love” because Yokey could have written Sam saying ANYTHING at that point but he chose to remind the audience about Cas at that exact moment… as Dean announces he is in love, because the two are connected (and because it then wouldn’t be that much of a stretch to assume that Sam’s initial reaction is “Oh… so you finally admit it?”)

(FYI this crappy gif is my own. Don’t judge. It’s the first I’ve ever made.)

Sam’s mild amusement here just fits the “oh so you finally admit it? We can call Cas and start the wedding preparations?” interpretation and NO ONE can stop me seeing it that way! :D

Bonus Point two for the mentions of “Soulmates” (which relate to Angels in the show) and “Cosmic” (which again, tends to relate to angels and Cas).

Bonus point three that this is an episodes marketed as Dean being in love! LOOK AT ALL THIS HETEROSEXUALITY! It seems to scream at our general audiences, and yet, as always in SPN, if the GA are seeking heterosexuality, they are to be disappointed. They got a 5 minute mini love spell plot and Dean once again is without even a hint of an actual true female romantic partner. Nope, sorry heteros seeking a woman for Dean. You won’t find that here!

Basically, it’s not too much of a stretch to interpret this entire love spell mini plot as exposition for the TRUTH regarding Dean and “true love”. Because we all know it. It’s right there in the subtext. I just wish they’d make it text already.

Review continues under the cut as per usual...

Addressing Long unspoken Trauma – FINALLY

Officially my favourite part of the episode (unofficially my second fave part after “fifth base”), the conversations between Sam and Rowena about their trauma at the hands of Lucifer had me welling up. This is the first time in SPN history that Sam has actually opened up to ANYONE about his Lucifer trauma. Read that again. Be amazed that it has taken this long. Send Dabb and Yokey a fruit basket for this.

One thing season 13 has been excellent at doing, is making things textual that were previously only implied. This seems to be a continued trend following on from the reveal in 12x22 that Dean is effectively Sam’s parent (A fact meta writers have been talking about for YEARS.)

I don’t really have much to say about it actually, because it’s all just THERE in the text. It has left me kind of speechless.

SAM: Its not gonna change anything, you’re still gonna feel helpless. What Lucifer did to you…

ROWENA: I told you I don’t… before he crushed my skull, Lucifer showed me his face. His true face. I’m scared Sam. All the time.

SAM: I’ve seen it too. What he really looks like behind… behind whatever vessel… yeah it still keeps me up at night.

ROWENA: How do you deal with it?

SAM: I guess I don’t deal with it, not really. I mean I…Ive pushed it down, and the world kept almost ending and so I keep pushing it down and I dunno… I don’t really talk about it, not even with Dean, I mean I could… he would listen but, it’s not something I really know how to share.

…..

SAM: Even if you do get the book, and even if you get your power back. It won’t matter. You won’t ever be able to change what happened, you won’t be able to change how helpless you felt, or how helpless you feel. You’re still gonna get scared. That feeling, that feeling never goes away.

ROWENA: Never?

SAM: Never.

…

Honestly it’s perfect. Yokey has decided that enough is enough. We need to discuss this. We need to talk about the fact that our main characters have a shit load of trauma. It’s about GODDAMN TIME.

(x)

I just want to scream about the shots for a second though because god bless Amanda Tapping for being so excellent at capturing emotions. I am starting to think she is one of the best directors for it. The intimate long close ups on the actors faces as they open about this stuff, it just works. The soft music in the back ground pulls no focus away from the gravity of Sam’s words. It’s intense, and harrowing and kudos to Jared here because I think he must have been ITCHING for a moment like this for Sam for YEARS (and for god sake someone ask him about this scene at a con instead of more bloody prank questions PLEASE.)

I also love that it’s Rowena who Sam opens up to about this stuff, because she has that in common with him. I know that it can be argued that Cas has also experienced trauma at the hands of Lucifer, but since Cas is an angel it’s not the same. I doubt Lucifer’s true face would affect Cas, since Cas is already an angel with the ability to see and cope with seeing things that human minds struggle to comprehend.

I think Rowena and Sam is our new Dean and Crowley. They are enemies, but they have a mutual respect for one another and I see this as a really good thing both for Sam and Rowena. Because Crowley was changed thanks to his bond with Dean (love for Dean), he was able to find redemption in that. Rowena could also now find redemption, especially considering her newly powered up status. For Sam I think it was a smart choice to give Rowena the pages at the end. It wasn’t just about the bond they formed over shared trauma, it was Sam knowing that Rowena is right, that Lucifer will always find a way back, and Sam knows that eventually he will have to face him again, and he needs all the help and power he can get, so a powered up Rowena is a powerful ally to have against the creature that tortured and broke both their spirits.

Am I shipping them? No, not really. I still think Rowena is a villain. I never shipped Drowley, though I acknowledge it’s existence in the show as basically a hairsbreadth away from canon. (it’s technically just as close to canon if not more so than Destiel and strongly implied that they hooked up in various episodes). But if the show did go there with Sam and Rowena I wouldn’t mind it as such. I just don’t think it would be endgame. But sure, it could work for a while. I see them more like frenemies with mutual interests. Besides, I’m a Saileen girl all the way and will continue to hope for Eileen’s resurrection this season.

Narrative Mirrors – Witches and Winchesters

Ah narrative mirrors, don’t we love them? I especially love them when they highlight the Winchester family dynamics and just how screwed up they all are. Our witchy sisters fall extremely easily into this category. Jamie and Jenny or “J2” as I now plan to call them (I see what you did there Yokey). So J2 are motivated to do whatever it takes to bring back mum. Whatever it takes even though they are hardly competent witches and only seem to have one spell mastered – the love spell. The older sister uses her charm to encourage the victims to do whatever they wish for, whilst the younger sister is the smarter of the two, more skilled in magic (I wonder who they are supposed to represent?)

They have one purpose, and will stop at nothing until that purpose is fulfilled:

JAMIE: I’m sorry, I know I’m the big sister and I’m supposed to be the strong one or whatever.

JENNY: Yeah?

JAMIE: I just really miss her.

JENNY: I do too.

JAMIE: I know, and I like, really believe in us

JENNY: Jamie, I just want her back so bad

JAMIE: And we’re going to get her back, even if we have to cast every spell in this book and curse the souls of like a million people to make it happen.

Doesn’t this sound rather familiar? Like from 13x09:

DEAN: You were right, about mom you were right, this whole time we should have been looking for her

SAM: I was just hoping, I didn’t know. And anyway it doesn’t matter, now that we do know.

DEAN: We find her, no matter what it takes.

Which always made me kinda uncomfortable. There is a reason that Billy didn’t want Dean knowing their mum was still alive. Because Billy knows that the Winchesters would break the Universe to bring her back. “House of Cards” she called it. What’s the betting that thanks to Sam and Dean this “house of cards” is going to come tumbling down just as Billy predicted? Because I would put money on it.

At the end of the episode, we realise that Sam and Dean are in exactly the same place as J2. Jamie – the older sister, trying to support and reassure her younger sister, the one who “wants mom back so badly”. Jamie, unlike her sister, is totally focused on completing their task, whereas Jenny has her doubts. Just like Sam and Dean. We know that Dean is back to “We’ll figure it out” and “you and me” even though Sam is NOT on board with this, but like Jenny, Sam will follow Dean into a hornets nest if it means doing what they set out to do and save mum.

The girls mum came back wrong though, a zombie. When Mary was first resurrected she certainly wasn’t what the boys expected either, and now she is lost again, whose to say just what state she will be in when she is finally freed? Perhaps the message for the boys here is to actually let her go? As in, let go of the memory of Mary that they had sat on a pedestal (Dean in particular) and start to accept the woman their mother actually is, and let her do her thing, because otherwise it may kill them all.

And isn’t this moment just a perfect visual representation of the toxic co-dependency that is the Winchester brothers? Stab stab stab. One of them even has a hammer… LOL.

(Yup its another one of my crappy gifs.)

The Sassiest Angel in the Garrison

Oh Cas, I have missed your beautiful face…

(x)

(Dipper agrees with me)

Now I think everyone knows by now that I hate Lucifer. As in, I find the character extremely irritating and just want him off our screens dead and buried, and that Mark P can go annoy some other shows audience. The ONLY thing that makes watching Lucifer remotely bearable for me, is Castiel - wonderful, perfect, funny, grumpy, brilliant Castiel, sassing the fuck out of him. Bearing in mind all their scenes but one took place behind bars, I was as always captivated by Cas and the brilliant genius he is.

So far in season 13, Castiel hasn’t actually spent much time using his powers, his grace, to actually get anything done. What he has done, is be incredibly smart and used that tactician brain of his to talk himself out of any situation. Everything Castiel does has a purpose. He is generally a creature of few words (except when it comes to Dean) and therefore, whenever he does speak, it is usually with a great deal of thought. (There was a brilliant meta on the word “assbutt” and how it is the worst insult he could possibly throw at Lucifer and yet everyone still ridicules him for it. Don’t knock the word assbutt. Cas knew exactly what he was doing!)

And so Cas isn’t just being a sassy little bitch in this episode. He’s being a sassy little bitch with purpose. Lucifer may be powered down, but he still has power. Cas knows this. Cas knows that the best way to get Lucifer activating what little power he has is to make him angry. So what does Cas do? He sass’s him, over and over. Pissing him off until eventually, it works.

“Turns out rage is a good motivator”

Such a badass. Bye bye little Dipper.

This is why you should never underestimate Castiel. He will always get the better of you. He will always come out on top in the end.

“This is me, learning from my mistakes” he says whilst stabbing Lucifer at the end of the episode. I thoroughly enjoyed that moment of course, even if we know already it doesn’t stick. Since Lucifer is alive next episode. *sigh*.

Lucifer has been continuously hinting all episode that he want’s Cas’s grace. It seems possible due to pics from next week, that he may actually get what he seeks.

Cas has blood on his collar, which he doesn’t have at the end of 13x12. So is Cas about to become human again? Or at least graceless? It’s possible. @tinkdw​ wrote this post about it (yes I stole her screencap). We were discussing this in our group chat yesterday and thanks to the themes that would come from another human!Cas story I can certainly get behind it, even if I hate the idea that it isn’t his choice yet again. This time, having Lucifer steal his grace seems worse than the first time. But as I mentioned above, Castiel has already shown several times this season that his grace is in no way where his strengths lie. I just hope that it is still his choice in the end to give it up, or not regain it, however that story may pan out.

But yeah maybe prepare ourselves for a human Cas whose grace was stolen by Lucifer plot? I mean if it doesn’t happen great, but if it does... don’t say we didn’t warn ya okay? I know how sensitive we all get about Cas stuff - this is literally the first any of us had thought of this. Besides, he’ll still be amazing even if Lucifer does take his grace, He’ll get in a few more stabs before the end. No doubt.

Other Awesome Stuff

The “fifth base” scene. Yeah this was certainly risqué of Yokey. I was screaming about this to Tink in the chatty bubbles, trust a gay writer to throw in a gay joke aimed at our currently in the closet bisexual lead character and have him act all awkward like he doesn’t know what it is… *glances at Sam* What? Nope, I’ve never… There’s NO SUCH THING AS FIFTH BASE. Sure Jan. Just as I scoff at the idea of Dean not knowing basic French, the idea that Dean DOESN’T know what fifth base is, is absurd. These are purposely input into this episode to raise our eyebrows and DOUBT them.

Baring in mind the way Rowena asks that question “Did THEY get to fifth base?” not “Did YOU get to fifth base” strongly implies actually that Rowena was asking if Dean was pegged. Let’s get that clear. Once again, we have a bottom!dean joke in the subtext of the show. (At some point we need to round up EVERY reference to Dean’s ass and compare it to the other characters just to make this point.)

Oh gosh I haven’t even got to “What’s by is by” yet. The top result in google for this supposed saying is a destiel fanfic written as coda for this episode. There is NOTHING else. It doesn’t exist. What is Yokey playing at exactly? Bygones be bygones maybe? But she had to say it like that? After a reference to anal? To DEAN? Yeah I know everyone is probably already yelling about this on tumblr but still. This is a very huge WTF from me to Yokey that he would ever think we WOULDN’T pick up on this. He did it on purpose. It has a reason, just like everything else. The reason being “Dean is Bi”.

......

(x)

The final scene with Rowena is spectacular. It’s also oddly erotic but maybe that’s just me. Rowena is finally unbound, powerful, free, and probably quite deadly. Here’s hoping she raises a hell of a storm. I have always loved Rowena’s character so for me this idea of her being “unbound” and basically immortal is really interesting. I just hope this paves the way to her helping the Winchesters defeat the big bads to come. Because I see her becoming more of an ally as time goes by. I hope she continues to have a big part to play in the story, and after this final scene I am practically sure she will. 

....

Castiel speaking about Jack like he’s a proud parent gives me life. He truly loves the kid. It’s beautiful.

....

Why does Lucifer attract so many dick jokes nowadays? I’m actually almost getting tired of them. For shits and giggles I’m gonna accept it at face value that Lucifer, unlike Crowley, is not well endowed. It makes sense. The tantrums, the violence. Little man syndrome. Pfft.

I’m also going to take it at face value that Cas is most likely huge. Yeah, that smirk is telling.

We all know he’s a big boy. ;-)

.... 

Hats off to Brenda. The biggest star of the episode. Never failed to make me laugh every time I watched.

You go Brenda. You were awesome.

Overall

Solid episode with lots of great moments. Now all I need is Cas to find the boys and get really pissy with them when he realises they didn’t ONCE figure out that Colonel Sanders was impersonating him. I mean sure, Dean has super low self esteem and was clearly grumpy with Cas at the start of the episode for only really checking in with Sam, not coming home after taking off, clearly CHOOSING the road over being at home with HIM... But that doesn’t excuse him being blind to Asmodeus’s impersonation. Bring on next week. I hope Dean grovels.

#supernatural #episode review #13x12 #destiel #spn meta #spn speculation #dean is bi #castiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #rowena #lucifer #season 13 #spn spoilers #my reviews #my meta

[heatherdayton]

task two ; character questionnaire

I. ARE YOU A WILMINGTON NATIVE? IF NOT, WHERE DID YOU GROW UP? TELL US ABOUT YOUR CHILDHOOD. 

“Know what?” She narrowed her eyes with a cheeky grin, pointing. “Sometimes I feel like I am a native. I’m not. I consider myself a hybrid of sorts.” She hoped that if anyone had asked this question and if it would be published, the previous statement would be used as a pull-quote in fancy, italicized lettering. “In Savannah, Georgia is where I spent most of my diaper wearing days… Atlanta, Carrollton, Brunswick… Lived in different places in Georgia and upstate New York. Manhattan. Just moving around and letting some parts of this world know my name. Well, country. Alright, two states. Three, counting North Carolina. I know that sounds dramatic, but just work with it. I’d lived in a house, a basement, an apartment complex, and I was too young to really remember, but we were in a trailer home. My environment was constantly changing. Mom couldn’t stay in one place for too long.”

II. WHAT IS YOUR RELATIONSHIP LIKE WITH YOUR FAMILY? DO YOU HAVE SIBLINGS? A LARGE EXTENDED FAMILY? 

A genuine, immediate smile formed upon her face, contrary to the reaction she would’ve had if she hadn’t moved to Wilmington. “Robert and Colleen Dayton are the coolest, lamest grandparents on the planet,” Heather shook her head in admiration. “Love ‘em so much. Seriously, come and spend one night at our dinner table. Psst, gramps a little TMI, but you get used to it.” She laughed. Talking about the woman who’d partially raised her was difficult. Part of her wanted to mention her father in Rochester having spent time with him for part of her upbringing and how he’d been working towards being a better father, though bringing him up would undoubtedly spark questions about her mother. Despite nothing had happened yet, it comforted her that he was making an effort to some degree. As for the mother, Laura—prior to Heather, there was Haley. A half-sister she was a stranger to before she stepped foot in North Carolina.

III. DESCRIBE YOUR HIGH SCHOOL EXPERIENCE. 

“Mm, yes. High school. Let’s see. I was,” she hesitated for a bit, “in some way… a teacher’s pet.” Her body winced. “I know, I couldn’t help it. I was that kid. People used to say that I possessed a knack to knowing and understanding things before the questions were even posed. Sounds philosophical. I don’t deny it at all, though. Here’s why: I used to write-in my own bonus questions at the end of exams. Freakin’ show-off. Overall, I was dang focused on my work and had my nose in a book at the library during my free period. Pretty much everything I did in high school was at high school. Didn’t go to any wack high school parties. As for prom, there was this kid in my class. I'm sure we had only two conversations before he’d hit me with the promposal : ‘Heather Dayton, oh Heather Dayton, be my Heather Nighton. I’ll be your Night-on shining armor, join me for prom?’ Corny as hell. I couldn’t say no. I didn't say no.”

IV. WHAT WAS YOUR YEARBOOK SUPERLATIVE? WHY WAS THIS SO? 

“Most Likely to Accidentally Discover Something Life-Changing, then Claim That It Was All Intentional.” She recited the words exactly how they’d been written in the yearbook. “I don’t understand it, either. Oddly specific. It was the longest one on the damn page. I never knew whether to accept that as a compliment, because it’s as if people think I can’t discover something totally life changing on purpose? I have to rely on, I dunno, an accident? But at the same time, I guess it’s quite telling of killer instinct, so I usually go with that detail and that makes me feel better ‘bout it.”

V. WHAT DID YOU DO AFTER HIGH SCHOOL? DID YOU GO TO COLLEGE? IF NOT, WHY? 

“I did go to college, I graduated here. UNC Wilmington. I’ve got a B.S. in Chemistry. No bullshit,” Heather winked. “If it weren’t for tuition, I’d go back. Hell, I’d pay the loans if desperation called for it. I don’t have any plans currently to go back, I’m quite happy with interning at different places. I’m only stating that I’m not opposed to returning,” she added with a shrug.

VI. WAS THERE AN EVENT IN YOUR LIFE THAT GREATLY IMPACTED WHO YOU ARE NOW AS A PERSON? 

“It’s somewhat of a cliché, but I’ve come to the realization that things will fall into place. That stillness becomes a radiance, as Morgan Freeman once said. Moving to this city and making the decision to stay, I could say that it honestly…frightened me. I was afraid that I was missing something, that I was gonna be held back in some way. I don’t know, I feel like I was conditioned to think that seeking change all the time would satisfy me and bring me happiness, but that wasn’t the case at all. Sure, change is good. Change is difficult and hard decisions are necessary. But oh, no. Choosing to stay here—and this is the longest I’ve ever lived in one city before—it was an easy decision. Truthfully, I’d made a plan after college graduation to move again on my own terms, except I’d let the idea of staying here come up, then I just did it. I trusted my gut that this was the right thing to do, for me. It was a good type of change.”

VII. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN LOVE? IF NOT, DO YOU THINK THAT IS POSSIBLE FOR YOU IN THE FUTURE? 

“I hope so,” she spoke softly. The nearly twenty-three year old claimed to know an abundance of concepts; however, the chemistry of love remained as something complex. "Looking back at my first relationship as a fourteen year old. At that time, I knew I felt love. I really did, I knew it. I could attempt to explain what goes on, scientifically speaking, in the brain when that happens. Then, as time passed I thought, ‘No, that couldn’t have been love.’ But could have that really been love, for a mere teenage girl?” Her brows furrowed. It was possible that she was overthinking it—that had been something she couldn’t control, a tendency to be looking at things analytically, more often than necessary. “Maybe none of this makes sense. Maybe it’s not supposed to make sense. That’s what’s exciting about love, I presume.”

VIII. WHEN WERE YOU BORN AND WHAT IS YOUR ASTROLOGICAL SIGN? DOES IT INFLUENCE YOUR LIFE IN ANY WAY? 

“June 12, that would make me a Gemini.” She pressed her mouth into a scowl. “I’ve heard people trying to prove,” the girl rolled her eyes without finishing her thought, “that astrology is a science. I, [laughs] what? Listen, I understand that every side needs to be heard. Many possibilities out there to prove, whatnot. But astrology? A real science! I took this astronomy course in college. Meet this girl, super sweet. Sits next to me on the first day. We’re lab partners. Hit it off, you get me? We talk ‘bout the stars and it’s stupid cute. Then, brings up zodiac signs.” Her face went stone cold. “No. She told me I was a Gemini before I’d even told her my birthday. God? I don't mess with it. She must’ve really studied that nonsense shit real hard, huh? We’ll be here all day if we continue this discussion.”

IX. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE TIME OF YEAR? TELL US SOME OF YOUR FAVORITE ACTIVITIES TO DO DURING THIS TIME. 

“Autumn! I love everything about fall. The weather, the fashion, the mood. Wearing scarves happens to be one of my fave activities. Kidding. Well, that’s real, but fave activities do include pumpkin picking, pumpkin carving, doing my annual Harry Potter marathon. I bake a lot of things at this time ‘cause usually me and the g’parents do fruit picking, so.”

X. WHERE DO YOU SEE YOURSELF IN TEN YEARS AND WHAT DO YOU HAVE HOPED TO ACHIEVE? 

“From what you can tell based on one of my previous answers, I have this mindset that I simply roll with. That I sort of let life do its thing.” As of now, Heather was experiencing work and growing to appreciate different aspects of her interning job in clinical lab science. The girl had an undeniable curiosity in several branches including clinical, nanotech, forensic, and industrial work. Whatever it may be, she strives to be the best version of herself. “I simply want to be happy and do what I love. I’ve got this crazy inkling,” she teased, “that I'll exceed my high school superlative. Totally do something wild and intentional. I realize that’s a big dream, to want to make that big of an impact, but it all starts from within. And I feel very confident that I have what it takes.”

#wilmingtontask #wilmingtontask02 #muse. #this task was super fun omg

[surveystodestressme]

85.

5000 Question Survey Pt. 22

2001. Can you believe that we have only gotten through two fifths of this survey so far? i believe it 2002. What is your opinion of Dave Coulier? i have no idea who that is 2003. If you were to a write a Choose Your Own Adventure book, what would it be about? horror 2004. What was your best find from a flea market, garage sale, ebay or thrift store? huh? 2005. What do you not have enough money for right now? a new car

2006. Do you believe that Teras for Fears were right when they said, “Everybody wants to rule the world?” eh 2007. What is the design on your beach towel? i don’t have a beach towel 2008. What stirs something deep and animalistic inside you? mean fucking people 2009. Have you ever cross dressed (even as a joke)? no 2010. Do you own anything with a rainbow on it? yes lol my boyfriends mom buys pj pants for everyone on christmas and this year she got me rainbow pants with minions on them....... i’ve NEVER even seen despicable me 2011. What would be the worst object for a child to take on a long car ride with you? a loud handheld game 2012. What’s the Best Beatles song in your opinion? help 2013. Why do you suppose that diary sites are more popular with females than males? idk 2014. What do these color combinations remind you of: orange and pink: ice cream pink and green: fruit green and gold: nature purple and gold: idk gold and red: royalty red and white: america blue and grey: the beach 2015. What is one selfish thing you tend to do? let people buy me stuff 2016. When do you think technology will catch up with the Jetson’s? idk 2017. What made you laugh today? my lab partners 2018. Do you ever stick your entries in any of the diary circles? no. 2019. Can you freestyle rap? i could try but it wouldn’t be that good 2020. Are you: stylish? somewhat shiek? huh? smart? i think so 2021. Do you find you self only buying brand name products? i do not care about name brands 2022. Would you ever want to buy an article of clothing or an accessory because you saw a celebrity wear it? i don’t pay attention to celebrities enough 2023. What song do you feel the sexiest dancing to? buttons by pussycat dolls 2024. Who do you know who looks silly when they dance? my dad 2025. Sweaty sex or clean sex? a lil bit of both honestly 2026. Which is more important to you: being kind or being right? i mean both honestly. 2027. Can you do any special dances like swing, tap, or ballroom? i used to do tap 2028. Are you scared of monsters? nada 2029. Who would you like to remind people of? idc 2030. Do you walk to school or do you bring your lunch? neither???? 2031. Rate your skills from one to ten (10 = you are the best at it): socializing: 5 making friends: 5 working with computers: 5 arts: 7 crafts: 7 dancing: 2 skating: 6 talking other people into things: 8 writing: 9 living life to the fullest each day: 5 cooking: 3 gardening: 2 cleaning up after yourself: 9 playing poker: 1 surviving in the woods: 3 managing your time: 8 attracting the opposite sex (or same sex if you prefer)? 4 2032. Have you ever been to an indian reservation? nope 2033. What is going to happen tomorrow that you can celebrate, even if it’s a little thing? idk 2034. Do you save things for special occasions or is everyday a special occasion? i save things. 2035. What is one thing you are terrible at: saving money 2036. What’s your favorite: rap song: love the way you lie country song: we danced industrial song: idk. cover song: cant help falling in love with you punk song: idk odd song: cotton eye joe 2037. What do you get your teacher or your boss for the holidays? not a thing lol 2038. Do you like to read books by Virgina Wolfe? never read any. 2039. What is your favorite tv show from when you were a kid? spongebob 2040. What is now proved was once only imagined. - William Blake. What do you imagine? the future. 2041. What has been passed down through at least two generations to you? nothing 2042. Do we live in a particularly bad age for romance? i don’t think so 2043. Have you ever cheated on someone? nope Do you believe that once someone is a cheater they can never be trusted? yes 2044. Have you ever gone: christmas caroling? nope pumpkin picking? yeah on a hay wagon ride? yes on a romantic valentine’s day date? yeah to a new year’s eve party? a couple times to a memorial day parade? yeah to the Macy’s thanksgiving day parade? maybe in the past to search for gold coins on st patrick’s day? no. 2045. Have you ever done any modeling? nope 2046. Would you consider yourself to be psychologically damaged? not that i can think of 2047. How aware are you of the reasons behind your actions and words? very aware 2048. What is the sickest you ever drank or drugged yourself? i haven’t had any really bad experiences tbh. it’s always a shitty time when i’ve thrown up from alcohol but i’ve never blacked out. 2049. Would you prefer it if clothing was optional? no lol. 2050. What is one interesting fact about you: i collect shot glasses 2051. Are more people depressed because they are alone, or are more people alone because they are depressed? they’re more depressed bc they’re alone probably but there are way more complicated reasons as to why people are depressed 2052. Have you ever gotten a mug, t-shirt, key chain, etc. that was personalized with your picture? no lol 2053. What was the last thing that you experienced for the first time? i don’t know 2054. If you were going to die tomorrow and you were leaving a postcard for someone to read after you were gone what would it say? i dunno. 2055. If you were about to be executed what would your last request be? tell my family that i love them 2056. What kinds of people do you find intimidating? too many people lol 2057. How much conviction do you have in your feelings and beliefs? quite a bit. 2058. In your house where is the: crazy glue? in the junk drawer flashlight? above the snack cabinet 2059. Out of everyone you know who has the most personality? there’s plenty of people lol 2060. If you could go back in time to experience a musical movement or era, which one would you choose to live through? none 2061. Do you suffocate people with your love? sometimes 2062. Do you feel your life is charmed? no. 2063. What character do you identify the most with from Winnie the Pooh? piglet 2064. When do you do your best thinking? in the shower or on the toilet 2065. What motivates you? food 2066. Look back at all the people you’ve dated. Has there been a pattern? not that i can think of 2067. Things change but what will always remain the same for you? i don’t know 2068. Is divorce something you would ever consider or do you feel that marriage is permanantly binding? i would preferably not get divorced. 2069. What’s the strangest movie you ever saw? the abc’s of death 2070. If you could go into virtual reality and set up your life there to be perfect and it would seem real but not be real would you trade your life now for the virtual life? it’d be cool but no 2071. Does it seem like life is more difficult for you than for anyone else? nope 2072. What are you grateful for? everything i have. 2073. What was a choice that you didn’t want to make but you had to? idk. 2074. Have you ever had dental surgery? no. 2075. At what point exactly are you grown up? when you  have bills and you feel like you’re drowning 2076. If there was a weight loss procedure that would destroy your ability to taste food so you wouldn’t be tempted by junk food, would you have it done? absolutely not 2077. What is one thing that happened that you never expected? finding someone i love who actually loves me back 2078. If you called one of your friends and they said “It’s nothing personal but I don’t want to talk to anyone right now,” would you take it personally? nah, i’ve had moments like that too so i can understand 2079. What is your favorite girl’s name? i don’t really have one 2080. Do you ever feel guilty for being more fortunate than others? not really. 2081. If you had to wear a shirt with one word on it for a year, what word would you choose? kok 2082. What is evian spelled backwards? naive 2083. You drop 10 pounds of feathers and a ten pound bowling ball off the top of the same building. Which will hit the ground first? they both weigh the same, sooo both 2084. Even though you may never get what you want, are you happy because you’re trying? yes 2085. If you started a petition what would it be about? idk. 2086. When was the last time you asked someone to do something and they said no? everytime i ask jack to do something he says no but does it anyways 2087. Do bad things happen to you on friday the 13th? not that i know of. 2088. What’s your favorite: Madonna song? - John Lennon song? - Michael Jackson song? billy jean Doors song? - Rolling Stones song? - David Bowie song?- Elvis song? cant help falling in love with you 2089. If you had started a relationship with someone and they said that it would be best if no one knew about it just to see how it goes, would you be offended? it depends ig but id feel like they just wanted to hide me 2090. Do you know any self defense? not really How about CPR? i know the concept of it but ive never really practiced or anything 2091. If you had to look into a mirror and see your naked soul stripped of all delusions and pretenses (Never ending Story style)could you handle it? maybe 2092. Are you a genius? no. 2093. How did you find out that Santa Clause wasn’t real? i got a letter from ‘him’ and the handwriting was the same as my dads 2094. Which is your favorite tarot card? i dont do that shit 2095. Does the internet separate people or connect them? both. 2096. Have you ever written a letter to a soldier? my brother and my sister and some of my friends when they were all in the military 2097. Does pain and fear make you feel alive? to a a certain degree 2098. Are you: good looking? yeah thin? no. happy? yes successful? not yet confident? for the most part 2099. Are you decisive or wishy washy? in between. 2100. Do you feel pop stars should be morally responsible to set a good example for their fans? it’s nice but they shouldn’t be obliged to.

#bored #quiz #questions #survey

[bloody-maiden]

My First Time

(via painshifter)

The first time someone died near me was the first time I consumed a soul.

I didn’t realize that was what happened at the time. When I was thirteen my friend was hit by a car while we were on our bikes, and I got the hard privilege of being the one to hold her hand as she passed. I knew the precise moment she died, not because her breath stopped or the light went out of her eyes or anything like that. I knew because the most immense feeling of pleasure I have ever experienced passed from her hand into mine.

It caught my breath, and while I felt the sorrow at my friend’s passing crushing me, I simultaneously felt an immense, warm glow enter through my hand and spread through my body like the first rays of sunshine on a wonderful summer day. Despite the grief I felt I closed my eyes and smiled as a tingling feeling I had never experienced filled me. When I didn’t think I could handle it anymore, when I felt full to bursting, I blacked out.

The paramedics found me collapsed over my friend’s body and were able to revive me with little difficulty. They claimed I fainted from the shock of holding my best friend while she died. While I didn’t believe shock was what I had felt, I was certainly smart enough not to say I had passed out from overwhelming feelings of ecstasy. They cleaned me up and sent me home, filled with the most confusing mixture of pleasure and sorrow I have ever felt in my life.

And that was that for another couple of years. I convinced myself the paramedics had been right, that it was just a weird fluke from passing out. My body, though, ached and craved that feeling again for the next several months, and I didn’t know how to provide it. Though I never really put my friend’s death or the weird cravings behind me, I did learn to not dwell on either and moved on with my life.

At least, until my mom passed away. She got sick some years after my friend died. I was just starting college when they diagnosed her with pancreatic cancer, and it was aggressive. I once again got the hardship and honor of being at her bedside as she passed, and once again was holding a hand to ease the suffering of the dying.

And once again, the feeling of ecstasy returned. This time others were with me as I went slack-jawed, my gaze going distant as I concentrated on the warm tingles filling me. I didn’t pass out this time, but a small moan escaped my lips, which I quickly tried to turn into a wail of sadness. Most people weren’t focused on me anyway, and my grief was real. To my shame though, it was once again mixed in with a feeling of pleasure greater than anything I had felt before, and this time I was sure of what had caused it - the link between death and this pleasure was forged firmly in my mind.

Knowing that link made it harder to deny my body’s cravings. I switched my major to nursing - I couldn’t yet bring myself to kill anyone, but I secretly hoped it would put me in the presence of death. I tried to deny this, convince myself that I just wanted to help people, but in my own consciousness I knew the truth. After a few months the cravings subsided a little, but having experienced it twice and knowing what could bring it about meant the cravings were always just simmering under the surface, waiting to be fed.

Unfortunately, it would be a few more years before I could satisfy that urge. It turns out you need quite a bit of experience before you actually get to work with dying people. Even when you do, nurses, even those doing emergency room work, aren’t very often touching people when they die, and unfortunately I needed to be touching people as they passed. But eventually, it happens - inserting IVs, staunching wounds, lots of things need physical contact, and every so often a patient dies. It’s part of the job, and the first time it happened to me my theory was confirmed - pleasure flowed through me, though this time I managed to keep it a little more under control. No passing out, no moans, though my concentration was certainly wrecked.

I became addicted. A lot of my colleagues couldn’t handle the pressure, but I wanted, needed to be on the job site every day. My hits were infrequent, and putting in hours at the hospital was the only way I had to get souls. My bosses had to send me home, but I was there as often as they would let me. If my tiredness made me sloppy I shamefully never minded - if the patients lived, the more lives I saved, the better I felt about myself. I could tell myself I was doing good work, even if I knew the real reason why. If they died, the darker side of me relished the feelings of death. Slightly sloppy work marginally increased the chance of a mistake happening. Mistakes cost lives, which got me fed.

Getting fed rejuvenated me - it was like sleeping for a week and being awakened by a jolt of pure adrenaline. My brain worked on overdrive after a feeding, and my body felt at its physical peak. I justified the part of me that rooted for death by saying that for every one patient that died I was able to save ten more.

After a few years though, it wasn’t enough. Patients may die every day in a hospital but I couldn’t be physically touching every single one, and the more souls I ate the more I craved them. It was like the effect was wearing off - it felt good, but not great. I felt refreshed afterwards, but more like a nap instead of a full night’s sleep. But still, I resisted killing anything.

My body seemed to be enjoying the fruits of the feedings - coworkers would often comment that I looked like I was in college. But as the years went by my mind wasn’t doing well. The infrequent hits combined with the growing tolerance meant that my mind was almost always operating under a craving. More and more frequently I found myself hoping that patients would die just to give me another hit, which immediately produced a wave of guilt that did nothing to satisfy my urge.

So, I expanded. There were woods not far from where I lived and I learned to set snares and traps for small animals. It wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped, and combined with my inability to check every day meant I experienced many weeks of frustration. But that frustration eventually paid off when I caught my first rabbit.

Seeing an average, maybe slightly undersized rabbit with big ears and grey fur caught in my snare filled me with happiness. I practically ran to the trap and dropped to my knees, fumbling to get my knife out. It wasn’t until the knife was pulled out of its sheath that I paused and considered what I was doing. Nausea filled me as I realized I was about to stab an immobilized, totally helpless animal that at one point I’d found adorable.

On the verge of vomiting I dropped the knife and turned away. Tears filled my eyes as I realized it wasn’t just trapping the rabbit or even killing it that was really getting to me. It was that my body was filled with joy. I felt alive at the thought of holding its quivering form as I plunged the knife in, the ecstasy that would come as I felt the life draining from its body.

I wept at what I had become and willed myself to walk away, to crawl away, to just move, but I couldn’t do it. My body was filled with an unspeakable need, a craving that had taken on a life of its own and that I was powerless to stop. I picked up the knife, the whole time willing myself not to do it but helpless to stop it. I placed my left hand on the trapped rabbit, and while I screamed NO in my head, I watched my right hand plunge the blade in.

All the guilt I’d felt melted away with the sweet, sweet warmth filling me as the rabbit’s life drained away. It wasn’t as good as consuming a person, but it was good enough to get me by. My body relaxed at having its need fulfilled, and at the thought that I had a way to get my own supply. I wouldn’t have to rely on the irregularity of humans dying in a hospital.

Despite the fact that squirrels and rabbits weren’t near as satisfying as people, having a regular supply kept me on far more of an even keel. I got better at building traps and could soon get a hit a week. The first few filled me with almost as much guilt and shame as the first one, but the satisfaction gleaned from their deaths quickly overwhelmed those feelings and replaced them with a hungry expectation. I should have been worried at this change, but it was so easy to justify their deaths.

I wasn’t hurting anyone. Really, it was better this way. With a regular fix of squirrels and rabbits my work at the hospital improved. Without withdrawals I was less distracted, and being less distracted made me less likely to make mistakes. Not to mention it was easier to keep myself from wanting mistakes to happen. Honestly, that was probably one of my biggest justifications - as long as I kept a supply of animal souls going I could keep myself from feeling like I wanted people to die, and the relief from that change in mental state was astounding.

For a long time things were good. I got my life together. Coworkers complimented me on my improved focus. My work improved since I actually wanted to do better. My social life improved as my mind wasn’t constantly distracted by my next hit and I could focus on what people were saying. I even met someone and I’m hoping one day we could get married.

But the Pavlovian response to the animals deaths should have taught me that things would change. After a while a death a week couldn’t keep me going and I had to up the number of traps. Soon I started getting cravings in the middle of the week and I had to alter my routine. Finding a couple hours every weekend to drive out to the woods by myself was difficult enough, but with the cravings increasing I’ve had to find a way to make it happen in the middle of the week as well.

The multiple trips bought me some more time, but it’s been getting worse. The more lives I take the more my tolerance grows. The animal deaths just aren’t doing it for me anymore. Every death only leaves me frustrated and angry at the lack of response. For the last few weeks every trip out to the woods has left me weeping, not for guilt or shame or any noble reason, but because I feel nothing anymore.

It’s caused my work to slip again. People deaths, while not ever as satisfying as they used to be, still give me a temporary fix. I’m distracted again and coworkers have been questioning if everything is okay at home. My mistakes are increasing. My mind has become consumed with the thought of death. How just a few moments in the ER can change a patient’s outcome. How easy it would be to slip a patient the wrong medicine. To inject them with something a little more… deliberate.

But the worst part isn’t just having the thoughts. It’s that I can’t feel guilty about it. The only thing I feel is a desperate hope that maybe the mistake will give me another death to consume. Wondering if I could get away with giving the wrong medicine. Or maybe if I could bring some of it home.

See, at work I’m always surrounded by other people. The thought of getting caught is ever present and probably the only thing that has kept me from trying anything. But there are plenty of things I could bring home that would look like a perfectly natural, if perfectly tragic, death.

The thought of injecting my boyfriend with something is the only thought that feels me with guilt, but his death is the only one I’m reasonably sure I could get away with. I try to resist, but as the weeks turn into months, I’m losing the battle. Every night I see him sleeping is another night I have to fight to leave him alone. But I’ve already brought some syringes home. My sleeping boyfriend wouldn’t even be conscious to notice what I did. And soon, I’m going to lose.

#psych #fave #favorite #work

[renegadeslut]

all of them

woooooaaaaah thats a lot but thanks thatll keep me busy for a while!!

1) What images do you have set for your desktop/cell phone wallpapers?            

me and my bf

2) Have you ever had a crush on a teacher?        

nah      

3) What was your last text message?  

“nice :D thats my boy haha”            

4) What do you see yourself doing in 10 years?  

oh god i really dont wanna think about it i mean ill be 30 then meaning ill be an old ugly hag with nothing to live for :/            

5) If you could be anywhere else right now, where would you be?

somewhere warm where ive never been before or with someone i love              

6) What was your coolest Halloween costume?      

i went as magenta from the rocky horror picture show last year that was really cool        

7) What was your favorite 90s show?   

i didnt watch tv in the 90s yet, the only things i know are some 90s anime but i do really like those generally           

8) Who was your last kiss? 

my boyfriend            

9) Have you ever been stood up? 

nah             

10) Favorite ice cream flavor?   

uhh i like nut flavours and mango           

11) Have you been to Las Vegas? 

nah               12) Your favorite pair of shoes?  

brown brogues with thick lighter soles i love them i cant wait for it to be warm enough to wear them again              13) Honestly, have you ever cheated on your significant other?  

no              14) What is your favorite fruit?               

figs!!! i also rlly like mangoes and peaches

15) Have you talked to anyone on tumblr that you could see yourself dating/having sex with? If possible?   

nah          

16) Are you into hookups? Short or long term relationships?  

still havent figured up how exactly a hookup is defined, generally both can be p nice i guess but i gotta really really REALLY like a person to even consider a relationship             

17) Do you smoke? If so, what?       

yeah tobacco and a fun stick every now and then       

18) What do you do to get over your anger?   

nothing i should probably figure out some method for that sooner or later haha           

19) Do you believe in God?    

nah          

20) Does the person you’re in love with know it?    

yes          

21) Favorite position?            

as in sex position? spooning and that  legs on shoulders thing    22) What’s your horoscope sign? 

cancer :/             

23) Your fears?

MAKING A WRONG DECISION!!!!, aging, missing out on stuff               

24) How many pets do you have? What kind?

2 cats                25) What never fails to turn you on?    

woah idk man          

26) Your idea of a perfect first date? 

im not really into that whole dating concept but lets say dinner and drinks             

27) What is something most people don’t know about you?

dont think there is anything tbh              

28) What makes you feel the happiest?

the people i love and the beauty in the world              

29) What store do you shop at most often? 

grocery store probably haha             

30) How do you feel about oral? Giving and/or receiving?  

its nice but neither is really like my fav thing ever you feel me?              31) Do you believe in karma?       

nah       

32) Are you single?        

no      

33) Do you think flowers or candy are a better way to apologize?      

depends on what the person in question likes better        

34) Are you a good swimmer?               

i guess? i used to swim a lot as a kid

35) Coffee or Tea?       

while tea has more to offer taste-wise i need coffee to function so if i had to decide on one for the rest of my life im gonna have to go with coffee       

36) Online shopping or shopping in person? 

shopping in person             

37) Would you rather be older or younger than your current age?       

younger       

38) Cats or Dogs?               

cats

39) Are you a competitive person?     

oh i can be         

40) Do you believe in aliens?        

yeah duh      

41) Do you like dancing?    

kinda but i have zero sense of rhythm :/          

42) What kind of music to you listen to?     

thats a broad field lmao i esp like classic rock but it ranges from anime music to opera so idk        

43) What is your favorite cartoon character?        

homer simpson? haha      

44) Where are you from?    

the glorious danube monarchy          

45) Eat at home or eat out?   

eat out when im with others and at home when alone           

46) How much more social are you when you’re drunk?     

like 5 more social         

47) What was the last thing you bought for yourself?      

i gotta be really stingy rn but it was energy drinks           48) Why do you think your followers follow you?  

i have no fuckin clue            

49) How many hours do you sleep at night?    

8+          

50) What worries you most about the future? 

everything hahaha             

51) If you had a friend that spoke to you the same way you speak to yourself, how long would you be friends?            

we wouldnt i guess lmao  

52) Are you happy with yourself? 

no             

53) What do you wish you didn’t know?   

there is nothing i think           

54) What big lesson could people learn from your life?    

dont drink on an empty stomach and dont try to be yourself ever          

55) If you could live in any home on a television series, what would it be?  

oooh  thats tough

56) What’s your favorite Website?    

no clue youtube??          

57) What’s the habit you’re proudest of breaking? 

i have never broken a single habit in my entire life             

58) What was your most recent trip of more than 50 miles?  

woah no clue whas that teneriffa a year ago?? woah its been long apparently            

59) What’s the best bargain you’ve ever found at a garage sale or thrift store?  

once at an anime convention i got a limited edition manga (only 500!!) for like 2 euros

60) What do you order when you eat Chinese food?

i always try to order something different but im usually into stuff involving noodles beef or seafood              

61) If you had to be named after one of the 50 states, which would it be?   

i dont know all the states

62) If you had to teach a subject to a class, what would it be?    

german as a first language          

63) Favorite kind of chips?   

not so fond of chips tbh           

64) Favorite kind of sandwich?      

avocado toast? salmon? tuna? caprese? idk        

65) Which do you use more often, the dictionary or the thesaurus? 

no idea             

66) Have you ever been stung by a bee?        

no       

67) What’s your favorite form of exercise?  

strength training i fuckin hate cardio            

68) Are you afraid of heights?    

not particularly          

69) What’s the most memorable class you’ve ever taken?  

no idea            

70) What’s your favorite breakfast?             

just an apple or something  

71) Do you like guacamole? 

they call me avocado girl             

72) Have you ever been in a physical fight?        

yeah as a kid      

73) What/who are you thinking about right now?  

my bf            

74) Do you like cuddling? 

yeah!!             

75) Are you holding onto something you need to let go of?

dont think so              

76) Have you ever experienced one of your biggest fears?        

i am in fact aging as we speak      

77) Favorite city you’ve been to? 

prague, vienna, lisbon and berlin are the first to come to mind             

78) Would you break the law to save a family member?      

yeah i guess        

79) Talk about an embarrassing moment? 

once i puked into my crushes garden on his birthday it was very funny             

80) Are there any causes you strongly believe in?   

nah           

81) What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had? 

had to get stitches on my lip once bc i fell on the playground :/             

82) Favorite day of the week?   

friday!           

83) Do you consider yourself sexually open minded?

sorta yeah              

84) How do you feel about porn?         

not my cup of tea     

85) Which living celebrity would you like to know?   

bob dylan maybe??           

86) Who was your hottest ex?              

only have 1

87) Do you want/have kids?  

please no            

88) Has anyone ever told you that they wanted to marry you?  

nah            

89) Do you get easily distracted?    

oh yeah and how          

90) Ass or titties?               

lmao

91) What is your favorite word?  

i have several but most of them are in german             

92) How do you feel about tattoos?   

i really like them and i do wanna get one but not anytime soon bc i dont have any concrete plans yet and absolutely no cash           

93) Do you have any pets?       

yeah       

94) How tall are you?

160 cm :(              

95) How old are you? 

20 :(             

96) 3 physical features you get complimented on a lot?   

eyes, figure, breasts           

97) Is there anything you’re really passionate about?    

love and beauty??          

98) Do you have trust issues?               

i dont think so

99) Do you believe in love at first sight?  

nah            

100) What are some words that you live by? Why?   

do everything as much as possible but also dont make a wrong decision ever

it makes everything very complicated and quite a mess           

#asks

[zionchubby14]

Blowing Up

So I am beginning to think my last story is a bust.  I’ll continue to work on it and make it work.  In the meantime, I have a different story for you all.  Its a semi-sequel to The Fudge Room  I wrote a few months ago.  If you haven’t already read that one, you can read it here.  For now, enjoy this latest installment.

**WARNING: contains graphic gender-swapping transformation.**

 Violet had a hard time over the last few years.  Ever since that damn tour.  She was so ashamed being rolled away in front of those people, especially that horrible girl. Never mind that she was blown up like a blueberry, according to that freak.  She was lucky that everything went back to normal...except for her skin being a vibrant blue.

Violet never had more makeup on her face than she did growing up.  And forget dating.  She was so afraid to fool around with any boy, let alone participate in gym class. No amount of makeup could have made her look normal.

Now, living alone away from her mother and awful father, Violet was just trying to keep this a secret from anyone.  Just trying to keep up appearances, she sat in her apartment, eating her take out and watching The Bachelor.

***

After going to bed for the night, Violet laid in her bed, feeling like nothing is going to be normal again.  About to cry herself to sleep for yet another night, she felt the tears stream down her face onto the pillow underneath her.

But something stirred, some noise that made Violet sit up in her bed.  A burglar coming to look at the blue woman, Violet thought. “I’ll show him to break in and see the freak.”

Grabbing a baseball bat that her father had given her for protection, she stormed down the hall to confront the insensitive thief.  Once she reached the main living room, she looked for the thug.

“Where are you?!?” Violet shouted, anger spewing out of her like a volcano erupting onto the land.  “Show yourself!”

“Geez, lady. You don’t have to yell,” a voice cried out, annoyed by the yelling.  “I’m coming out.  Don’t shoot!”

A small little man started coming out from behind the couch.  Hoping to find a tall and strong home invader, she instead saw an orange-skinned, green-haired little man, wearing a brown shirt and white overalls. Getting a better look, she immediately recognized what this man was.

“YOU!!!”

“Ah, you remember me,” the little man said.  “I was hoping you might.”

“What are you doing in my home?  How dare you show your face after all these years!”

“Well, I honestly don’t think that is necessary.  I came to chat with you on behalf of Mr. Wonka.”

“Wonka?  Why on Earth would I ever want to hear from him?”

“Well, apart from litigation that you have against him and the company, which, by the way, you won’t win because of the contract you signed, he wants to bestow you an offer.”

“I don’t want anything from him or from you.”

“Now, come on. I haven’t even said what it was.”

“I don’t care. Please leave before I call the police.”

“Not even if it is a chance to become normal again?”

Violet stared at the little man.  “What did you say?”

“You heard me rightly, Ms. Beaure-“

“Don’t say my last name.  I had it changed.  It’s Smith now.”

“Of course, Ms. Smith.  You see, after your terrible accident at the factory, Wonka felt sorry for what happened. At the time, we had no way to reverse what had happened to you.  But after years of research, we figured out a way, a way to change your skin back to its normal color.”

“How?”

“It is hard for me to explain.  I rather take you back to the factory and show you.”

“No way.  I am not going back to that horrible place.”

“But Ms. Smith, the remedy is back at the factory.”

“No.  Wonka can go fuck himself before I step foot back in the infernal factory.”

“Well, that’s an impossible feat, considering Wonka passed away a couple months ago.”

“He died. But nothing was said in the papers.”

“Well, the new person in charge wanted to keep things quiet, for the benefit of Mr. Wonka and his beloved fans.”

“My condolences.”

“Thank you. But enough chatter.  We must be off.”

“But I told you. I’m not going back there.”

“Then, I am afraid you have given me no choice, Violet.”

The little man reached into his pocket and brought back out in his hand.  Raising it to his face, he blew sharply, releasing a cloud of dust that permeated into the air.  Inhaling the dust, Violet began to feel woozy and fell onto the couch, unconscious to the world around her.

 ***

 When Violet woke up, she was sitting in a room that smelled of sweet fruit and candies. After shaking her head, she tried to raise her hand to check her head, but was bound to the chair which she sat in.

“What the hell?”

“Sorry, Violet,” someone said from somewhere.  “I couldn’t risk you waking up and attacking me.”

“Who’s there?” Violet started to squirm and wiggle out of here confines, but something held her tight.

“I wouldn’t move too much.  This sticky taffy reject has been known to peel off skin.  Had a lot of Oompa Loompas in need of skin grafts after that batch.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Oh, Violet. I don’t wish to hurt you.  Far from it.”

The voice started materialize into a tall man.  Somewhat lanky, the man was wearing a long lab coat with a dark blue sweater underneath.  His dusty blonde hair made Violet gasp in shock.

“Charlie?”

“Good to see you, Violet.”

“I-I-I don’t understand.”

“I’ll explain the best I can,” Charlie said, pulling up a chair in front of Violet. “For years after taking over the company, I felt bad for what this place did to you, Augustus, Veruca, and Mike. I had some of my workers keep tabs on each of you, and from what I read, you have had the worst go of things.  So after working on a proper complete meal gum, I had the research team look into a way to reverse the changes.  I think we have come up with a complete cure for you.”

“So wait, you kidnapped me to cure me?”

“I didn’t mean for you to be kidnapped, and that Oompa Loompa has been reprimanded.  I meant to write you, but with pending litigation, I didn’t want your lawyer to see this as a bribe.”

“Charlie, do you really think this could work?  I mean, can you really cure me?”

“I can’t say for sure, but if you are willing to try, I’d be willing to help you out.”

“…Alright. Let’s do this.”

A smile spread across Charlie’s face as he leaned in for a hug.  “Excellent.  I’ll call in the team and we’ll administer the treatment right away.”

Charlie grabbed for a remote in his pocket and pushed a button.  Within seconds, a team of Oompa Loompas in lab coats came in with medical equipment and IV bags.

“Violet, we don’t quite know the full effects of this cure.  We tried it on a few of the Oompa Loompas who were just like you and saw an immediate restoration of skin pigment.  We didn’t see any abnormalities right away, but we can’t be too cautious.  So we’ll be hooking you up to a heart and oxygen monitor, as well as an IV to make sure you are hydrated and give you any medicine right away.”

“Okay.  Will it hurt?”

“As far as we have noticed, there has been no signs of pain.  But again, we can’t take that chance.”

One Oompa Loompa walked up to Charlie and gave him a syringe.

“Violet, once I give you this, I can’t be around to see if it works.  For legal reasons.”

“I understand. Thank you, Charlie.”

With that, Charlie insert the syringe needle in the IV and sent the drug throughout her veins. He gave her a caring smile and left the room with one Oompa Loompa to monitor her condition.

“Can I at least be given a mirror to see any changes?”

“Sorry, Ms. Smith. I am only here to monitor your vitals.”

Violet kept looking around to take her mind off of what may happen.  She noticed a weird sensation building up in her stomach and groin, but brushed it off as she saw a pink spot on her arm.

“Uh, hey…”

“Danny.”

“Danny, is that what I think it is? There, on my arm?”

“Lemme see,” the Oompa Loompa said as he grabbed her left arm.  “Yep, that is normal skin tone.”

“Really?”

“Yep.  Oh, there’s another on your chin.  Looks like it is working.”

“Oh my god!”

A walkie talkie feedback came from the Oompa Loompa’s coat pocket.  Reaching in his pocket, the Oompa Loompa brought out the radio and walked out of earshot.

Violet kept noticing pink spot over her arms and bare legs.  She’s looking normal.  For the first time in a long time, she is feeling happy for looking normal.

“WHAT?!?”

The loud shout broke Violet out of her happiness.

“Ohcrapohcrapohcrap,” the Oompa Loompa kept saying over and over as he rushed over to the heart monitor.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just got off the radio with my research team.  The drug we gave you has some weird side effects we weren’t aware of until now.”

“Like what?”

“Well, apparently, the blue pigment of your skin was acting like an appetite suppressant, blocking any hunger signals to your brain.  Once the blue skin goes away, our other test subjects experienced ravenous hunger.”

“What?”

As soon as she said that, Violet’s stomach growled loudly and she started to feel very ill.

“Oh, my god. I need something to eat.”

“Like what? We’re a chocolate factory.  All we have is candy.”

“Did you throw away the failed gum that turned me blue?”

“Yes, because we changed the formula to wear it really works.”

“I don’t care what you have, just feed me some food now!”

The Oompa Loompa ran out of the room in a hurry.  As he left, Violet kept feeling more and more hungry, as well as a weird feeling in her groin.  She began thrashing in her chair until it toppled over onto the floor.  She looked down at her skin and saw more pink skin than blue.  Tears started forming her eyes as she laid on the cold floor.

The door busted open to have a team of Oompa Loompas wheeling in carts of different chocolate and fudge.

“Violet, are you okay?”

“Danny?” Violet said in a lower octave.  What the Hell was up with her voice?  It didn’t matter.  All she could think about was food.

“Violet, don’t move.  We’re removing your restraints right now.”

With several spritz of what appeared to be water, the taffy that was holding her down soon melted away.  As soon as she was free, Violet dived into the first cart of food, loudly cramming all the sweet treats into her mouth.  The team of Oompa Loompas ran out, seeing the need for more food right away.

 Hours past and Violet had finished the multiple carts of candy.  Her stomach severely bloated by the massive binge session that transpired.  Violet sat against the wall, rubbing her distended belly.

Danny walked up to the very full woman with a TV in tow.  Reaching down to check her vitals, he looked into her eyes.

“Violet? Don’t talk right now.  If you can hear me, just nod your head.”

Violet, in a state of euphoric fullness, felt her whole body change from what it once was. Her face felt puffy, with her cheeks bulging out slightly and the weight of her chins surrounding her neck.  Her breasts had grown to accommodate her new weight.  The stomach and ass had widened and plumped considerably.

But what felt weird was her groin.  Something felt different, like something was there that wasn’t there before.  But before she could check to see what it was, Danny caught her attention.

“Violet, I have a message from Charlie, who heard of what has transpired.  Watch the screen.”

Danny pressed the button on the TV and the image of Charlie appeared before them.

“Violet, I hope you are doing alright.  I heard about what happened.  I’m afraid we caught the side effects too late to prevent this from happening.  You’ll be happy to know that this is something we will rectify right away.

“However, there is one more side effect we didn’t mention, because of your ravenous hunger.  Apparently, in our other test subjects, apart from the hunger, we noticed that they had changed…sex.  Since all Oompa Loompas are male, they turned to female.  When we heard the results, I immediately had Danny administer a reversal of the drug right away…or I would have if it wasn’t for the lawsuit.

“Yes, Violet.  I turned you into a man, a fat man at that.  You see, you would’ve damaged Wonka’s name and reputation as a great chocolatier with your lawsuit.  You were always an impulsive brat, never caring about anyone but yourself.  You just had to have that one piece of gum. He warned you and you did it anyway.

“Honestly, I could have left you as a blue freak in the world and buried you in court fees and taken you to the bank.  But when my team found this solution, I came up with this plan.  You’ll never go back home ever again.

“Oh, and I guess I should give you a new name, since you’re no longer Violet.  I always liked Vince.  Vince Beauregarde.  At least your father will now have the son he always wanted.

“Good bye, Vince.  Enjoy your stay at my factory.”

 Vince didn’t hear anything from the recorded message.  After discovering his dick for the first time, he started jerking it off, rubbing his fattened form and demanding more food to be brought in.  All the while, another team of Oompa Loompas brought in some more treats for their new resident.

 ***

 Charlie sat in his office, looking out at the world outside the factory.  Business was booming and there was more and more people loving his new creations, as well as the ones Wonka created.

With a smile on his face, he turned around and opened a manila file folder on his desk. Inside was several photos of four people and a complete report of each one.

With the smile still on his face, he reached for the intercom button on his desk.

“Hank, come in here.”

Within seconds, a muscly, yet plump Oompa Loompa came into the room.  “Yeah, boss?”

“I think it’s time for a visit to Guest Number 3.  You sure she’s in London?”

“Yep. London, England.  Took over her father’s nut factory.”

“Splendid. Have Justin bring her in.”

[alpsss]

finally settling back into reality, cos whoa what a WEEK it has been. i can’t believe it’s wednesday again and the show opening has come and gone. the crowd was massive and the energy was insane..it was a SHOW indeed. it’s extremely surreal and pretty amazing and yes i am going to use all these cliche descriptions.

even ian came..? michael ng, idk even MJ. its really like an opencall wedding and it’s all the people you ever know in one room together. photos turned out great too, i guess all we can do is put our best forward and see the tricking down effects, often its not whats most immediate. it takes time. patience is something to be mastered..we are realising. 

having way more fun with fashion now, somehow its all coming together the ‘fits mirror the art which mirrors life...a good blending. took me quite long enough! d fats had his bday party at ours and matt the genius chef cooked up quite a meal! my grandmother(s) at ours. sharing a laugh. pretty incredible stuff, and mom never brought up gregory. 

oh also, im back to eating fruit now and hardly any nuts..is that funny. i dont see any big difference, except for slight carbface action. but its so easy to OD on nuts..but i OD on everything being the extreme individual that i am. 

now it’s back to the grind because we have a couple of regular programming things to clear, like omg navy is actually going to happen real soon! and i guess skewl is starting damnit. i only have four hrs per week this sem and here i am whining. its cool i get wed afternoons ‘off’ haha i enjoyed it yesterday where i bought a couple of things and just did a slow solo walk ‘round vivo.

i feel like im closing to cracking the ben-nice code, but also love...love has changed so much for me in recent times. the idea of it. im just thankful to be surrounded by good people tbh, ive had interesting people come into my life thanks to chew lin, and im honestly just sticking around for the ride..! really havent been one to be possessive about people or friends. but i do need that one or two solids..so like matt being by my side this entire weekend was super comforting for me. we stoned out at providore thanks to sleep deprivation and crashed on the couch together on public holiday monday, but being married is really experiencing TRUE teamwork. it’s great. i dont regret it.

the idea is to not let negativity seep in..and to keep focusing on the good. cos life is way too short and there’s really so. much. good.