I Don't Kiss and Tell

Alright y’all, the time has finally come!  This blog is going dormant and the new multi-muse blog is finally ready!  *Celebration plays in the background*

Because this message is long (and I know some of y’all’s dashes are about to get flooded) everything else will be under the ‘Read More.’  ^_^

Betrayed in the Plot Twist

That shady ally you and your buddies have turned out to be a rotten egg after all, and you're their victim. The audience saw it before you did. Being stabbed in the back hurts like a bitch; I don't envy you, but take solace knowing your death was the single most pivotal moment in the entire story.

I mean... given his backstory with Joseph, this is pretty apropos.  >.>

Tagged by: @lxvingdeadgxrl

lxvingdeadgxrl​:

   She couldn’t say she’d blame him for the shift from field work to intel, but if she had any input in the matter whatsoever, she’d ask him to hold off until this particular matter was dealt with. Wyn needed help and needed it desperately, and Robert was the only one she trusted enough to share this with. He had been around the block, knew about so many things…If anyone could help her, it was Robert…

   And besides that, she was scared. Really and truly scared and she just–she needed him there, even if she wasn’t willing to admit as to why she needed him in particular there just yet.

   Though, if this ended as badly as it possibly could, and as she feared that it might, she may not get another chance to say anything to him. Maybe it was time to get over those fears…Or not. Probably not what she needed to be thinking about at the moment, what with everything else going on.

   The young woman had been pacing, waiting near her phone in hopes that Robert would get back to her. Yeah, it was late, but he was always good at getting back to her. Thankfully, he did just that. Not a call, but a text…She’d fucking take it, though. 

   She grabbed for the phone, quickly reading over the message he sent for her. 

   [Text: Robert] Not the best thing to discuss on the phone.

   [Text: Robert] I’m in the apartment. Just let me know when you get here, I’ll lower the wards.

   [Text: Robert] Just please hurry.

Wynter’s reply was enough to tell the hunter he needed to hurry.  She had wards up to keep out other humans?  Or it sounded that way.  For the first time in awhile he was reminded that the things in the darkness weren’t always of the supernatural variety.  The idea bothered him… worried him.  What if he couldn’t help her?  No.  No - he couldn’t think like that.  If Wynter didn’t think he could help, she wouldn’t have asked.  He needed to get there and do whatever he could.  Worrying about what ifs wasn’t gonna solve anything.

Hopping up into his truck, he sent her one more text.  

[Leaving now.  Hold tight.]

And then he revved the engine, pulled out of the motel and onto the road.  He debated his speed as he drove.  Hunters and cops didn’t mix, and even something as simple as a speeding ticket could turn into something a lot worse if whoever pulled him over was too thorough.  So he drive five miles over, like just about everyone else did and managed to make it to Wyn’s place in just under seven hours.

Parking a little out of the way, he started texting as soon as he was out of the truck.  

[Here and headed for your door.]

   Man, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed herself like this at a bar. There was just something about the atmosphere and the company that just–it almost made it feel like she’d been coming there for years, made it comfortable. 

   Robert was right, this place was a winner. 

   The young woman grinned in return. Had it been a bit teasing? Yes, but it was all in good fun. She’d never tease anyone in a malicious fashion, after all.

   As far as the books went, well, she tried not to steer anyone wrong. She knew her tastes weren’t for everyone, but a man who visited a cemetery after hours and who seemed to have an appreciation for the creepier things in life? He might appreciate the more macabre stuff, the morbidly fascinating. 

   “More fun, huh? I don’t know, I may not be able to handle all of that fun.” she chuckled. “It may be too much for me.” 

   Wyn listened intently as Robert listed off the various establishment, sipping at her drink. She noticed the scars on his hand, but thought better about asking him about them, and wouldn’t allow herself to focus on them. After all, it was terribly rude to stare.

   Honestly though, itsounded like the town had it all. Hell, it even had a record shop, which was amazing. Leaving behind the local shop she’d been haunting back in New Orleans had been so difficult, but that pain was eased somewhat now that she knew that she’d still be able to get her vinyl fix.

   Of course, there was no telling if they’d carry the sorts of records she’d listen to, but one could hope and they could probably order them in for her, if need be.

   “Oooh, I do love twenty-four hour diners that have that vibe. Especially when there are good wedge fries to be had.” she hummed. “The sort of place that you read about in those Small Town Gothic posts online.” 

   “But I certainly will. I appreciate it, Robert.” Wynter confessed with a smile. “Still so much to see and do, but so little free time. That being said, I’ll absolutely make time. I’m a sucker for vintage movies and good pizza. What do you hunt for at the record store?

Too much fun?  Was she teasing him again?  Robert couldn’t be entirely sure, and he was deciding he liked that about Wynter.  It reminded him of Mary… and Marilyn.  And it made him relax around her in ways he didn’t normally with new people.  Something deep inside himself still whispered that he shouldn’t.  Letting people in had never done him any good in the long run… and yet here he was - doing it anyway.  Trying not to think too hard about it, he grinned at the woman.  “But how will you know unless you try?” he asked, taking a long swallow of his drink.

He wasn’t surprised when Wynter expressed interest in the diner he’d mentioned.  Robert dug the vibe, too.  Often found himself out there on nights when he couldn’t sleep.  “This place is exactly like that,” he agreed when she mentioned the small town gothic aesthetic.  “There’s a few places like that here in Maple Bay… but the diner’s the only one that feels…”  He stopped, literally searching for the best word before finally settling on, “... neutral.”  The other places were darker… or felt that way to him, at least.  The diner was the only one he enjoyed visiting.

“You ever get tha urge to check it out, let me know.  I can give directions… or, uh…”  Again he hesitated, second-guessing himself for a minute, before forcing the words out.  “... I could maybe drive you out there?  It’s kind of nestled back off the road… can be hard to find sometimes.”  Okay, so that wasn’t entirely a lie.  Some nights even HE couldn’t find it.  But Robert was pretty sure that was because those were nights when it didn’t want to be found - not by him, at least.

When Wynter smiled at him in thanks, he returned it with a soft, genuine one of his own.  He’d never been one for small talk.  But she somehow managed to make everything he said (and everything said to him in return) feel important.  Necessary.  Maybe that was why he was able to talk so comfortably with her.  His grin got wider when he heard she liked vintage movies (and when she didn’t freak out about his pizza choices.)

bendyquirk​ :

“well my daughter basically kicked me out saying that i cant use the excuse of work to not socialize anymore now that i am retired so i figured this was as good a place as any to try and get out for a while..” David grabbed his glass as he listened to robert talk, feeling his cheeks gain a little color at the sound the other man made. not sure if it was the intent behind it or not but he didn’t care, two could play at this game if he was going that way with it. David was quick to down the shot of bourbon but brought his tongue out a little to catch any that remained inside the glass before setting it down, making a pleasurable noise of his own as a soft smirk was now coming to his face. “ yeah that was rather nice wonder what else i’ll get to taste if you’re the one treating me tonight~?” is all that leaves his lips soon after, a finger drawing circles on the rim of the now empty shot glass, the small smirk growing wider and a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes.

   What could she say? She was a jokester. How did the saying go? Laughter was the best medicine, or something like that….Kind of sounded like a crock of shit, but whatever, what did they have to lose at that point? Everything that had gone down the night before had been heavy and serious, so why not try to inject a little bit of humor.

   She offered him a weak smile. “S’right down the hall, but I-I appreciate the privacy.” she confessed. 

   As for being able to stand, that was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? She hadn’t tried getting out of bed yet, and after draining herself the way she had the night before, there was no way of knowing just how stable she’d be on her own two legs. She’d just have to try it out and see if she could keep herself upright, or if she’d come tumbling down like a house of cards.

   “E-empty’s good, though, right? M-Means we were successful.” she reasoned. It probably felt weird, seeing as he’d had that tag-along stuck inside of him for so long, but she imagined it must have been a huge weight off of his shoulders. “But m-maybe don’t use that space for b-breakdowns…” 

   Yeah, it might be a joke, but even still…

   Wynter shifted as best as she could, bringing herself to the edge of her bed so she could get herself standing. She paused when he mentioned the juice again, the young woman shifting her gaze to where he stood. “U-Um, yeah…yeah, that’d be good…t-thanks.” she offered.

   With care, she got onto her own two feet, and almost immediately, she regretted it. Her legs felt like jello and concrete simultaneously, and it took everything in her power not to fall over. She had to catch herself on the edge of the bed, the witch bracing herself a bit. 

   Right…so maybe she should wait a second to get her legs back online before she tried walking again.

Was ‘empty’ good?  Yes.  The hunter in him knew it had to be.  But the man - the one who missed someone he’d gotten close to - still wasn’t so sure.  “Can only get better from here, I suppose,” he replied with a small shrug.  Carefully, Robert tried standing without support, hands held out gingerly just in case his body (or head) decided it wasn’t quite ready.  So far so good…

Liquid Dream ||

   Wynter’s cheeks took on a faint rosy hue at that, her smile sweet. “Well, if you say so, it must be true.” she offered with a chuckle. That wasn’t even remotely how that worked, but whatever. She didn’t want to argue, and it really was a lovely compliment.

   “Oh! Well, depends on the book. So far, they’re all nonfiction. Her first book is all about how she got into the funeral industry, and the second is all about different death rituals from around the world.” she explained. What? She knew her reading material was a little on the morbid side, but it was fascinating to her. “The third book is her answering death questions sent in to her by children. It was really good. Kids have no filter, so they ask really interesting things.” she continued, before taking a sip from her own glass.

   Hopefully that wouldn’t put him off…Again, her tastes could be a little morbid, but he’d gotten a taste of that when he’d run into her at the cemetery, right?

   Wynter noted his tone, the momentary shift of his expression. There was a story there, but judging by the look on his face, it was a scab that didn’t need picking at. Especially by a young woman he barely knew… So she’d leave it be. If he ever wanted to talk about it, she’d listen of course, but for now? For now, it was left alone.

   He was right about that, though. She didn’t expect anything from him. All she knew about Robert, was that he had been nice enough when they first met, that he too visited cemeteries after dark, enjoyed reading and cryptids, and sometimes visited the bar. That was it. She had no expectations, no preconceived notions.

   Wyn couldn’t help but smile brightly at the exclamation. He was a character, wasn’t he? “Yeah? I can’t say I’ve been to any of the others, so I’ll agree with you for now.” she chuckled.

   Honestly, bar hopping had never really been her speed. Sure, she might haunt one over another on a given evening, but she wasn’t the sort to visit multiple in a single night. Mostly because she wasn’t the biggest drinker, but she also liked getting home before the wee hours of the morning. 

   “So, what other establishments have made it onto your ‘best’ list?” she asked, genuinely curious. He’d hit the nail on the head with this place, so his recommendations were ones she’d take seriously. He clearly knew what was up with that town, so she’d value his opinion.

Robert beamed at her statement, despite the teasing he knew had to be there.  “Damn straight it does!” he agreed with a bark of laughter.  “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

The books Wynter talked about actually sounded worth a look - especially the second one.  Maybe he‘d have a real reason to stop by her store soon.  And even if he decided against one of the Doherty books, he’d make sure to find something to buy.  Anything to help support the business of someone he was quickly growing to like.

“Good call,” Robert replied to Wynter’s comment about Jim n’ Kim’s.  “Can’t promise listening ta me will get you far in life, but you’ll sure as hell have more fun!”  When she asked for more suggestions, Robert couldn’t help but puff up a little.  She really wanted his opinion on something?  That hadn’t happened in awhile.  It felt kinda nice.

baddestdad​:

~ Keep Calm and Bake On ~

Des nods, turning on heel to refill their cups with something a little lighter, being as all his kids were still up and when Robert went on home, they’d probably come down and bother their pops. His little gremlins were a bunch of night owls just like himself- except Austin. That sweet sweet angel.

Even as he tried so hard to keep his mind out those woods, all he could picture is Robert in an adrenaline frenzy, a big crazed smile on his face with possibly mud and sweat sticking to him and for other reasons, the baker felt confident in his choice to ease up on the straight whiskey and scotch. “Well- if ya ever take me up at that offer of working out, it won’t be as exciting as chasing Mothman but we definitely will be cursing by the end of it. And I might fall- big possibilities- excitin’ really.” He tosses that dumb, head empty, positivity on blast crooked smile Rob’s way before stuffing another cookie into his face to stifle the even bigger smile that threatened to show up at the sound of Robert’s laugh. It was like getting a prize medal everytime he managed to make his friend laugh and according to the way his stomach tightened and fluttered, that’d be a permanent reaction to it.

“Deal! Ya get two throwin’ sammiches! Don’t write up checks, Smalls- I’ll carry you all the way down there with my kids playing kazoos- the whole shabang of victory and then a nice chill day at the beach.” He laughs, pushing some loose strands back and leaning forward on the counter space to rest on his forearm and search through the plastics containing cookies and brownies for a specific flavor. “Honestly though- I’d be psyched to spend the day with ya. We can hang, chat, not chat, I could bring a board game. We have this tradition of playing ‘Sorry’ at the beach that just turns- absolutely horrendous. That or uno which I think might be worse.” He snorts, imagining how many pack of uno card he’s lost to being throw or buried on that beach.

“How could I possibly say no to a day of cursin’ an’ sweatin’ with you?” Robert joked.  Instantly, his head was filled with other activities that might have them doing both of those things and the older man had to take a long drink to hide the sudden flush he could feel rising in his face.  The risk of fucking up a good friendship with something more ALWAYS seemed to be there with Des.  Robert wished - not for the first time - that he could take a quick peek into the future.  Just to see if things with Des might work out better than they did with Marilyn… or Joe.  The smile threatened to fall from his face at the thought of his former lover, but he forced it into place.

   He definitely shouldn’t get into it with her. After all, it was extremely rude to argue with someone who’d literally pulled an angry spirit out of him the night before. It didn’t matter if he thought himself worthy of her help or not, it was still given because it was the right thing to do. 

   Lord only knew what might have happened if she hadn’t. That thing was bad news, no two ways about it…

   “Y-You too?” she offered, trying to lighten the situation a bit with some humor. Might have been a bit too early for jokes, but too late, it was already made. “Standing is good, though.” 

   How did she feel? That was a loaded question, wasn’t it? She felt like shit, plain and simple. Honestly, with how hard she’d gone, how much of herself she’d poured into that spell, it was a miracle that she was even conscious yet. “Don’t think t-there are words for how gross I feel.” the woman confessed. 

   At least recovery wouldn’t be too difficult. “S’mostly a r-rest and recuperate situation. Though o-orange juice helps, too.” she confessed. As great as an adult beverage would be, now was not the time.

   Wynter leaned back a bit, resting against her pillows, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. “T-that was a hell of a thing…How does i-it feel to be on your own again?”

Robert chuckled as she tried to joke with him… and managed not to wince when the decision made his head pound harder.  Bleary eyes watched Wynter as she spoke, trying to study her… get a feel for the truth (or lack thereof) behind her words, but he wasn’t really feeling up to thinking too much at the moment.  

“I can take a hint,” he teased - not entirely sure if she was being honest or subtle or both.  “Sounds like I should get lost and go find the kitchen while you grab a shower.”  He tried to eye her a little closer, wondering if she’d be able to stand… and if the witch would ask for his help even if she couldn’t get her legs working.  Wynter didn’t strike him as the type who really liked asking for help - unless as a last resort.

Her question actually surprised him.  “I… uh…”  Robert bit off the urge to say ‘lonely’ though it was the first word that’d come into his head.  “Empty,” he said, instead.  “Got myself some room to shove in a few more psychoses and maybe a mental breakdown or two.”  He was joking!  Mostly…

This was SO much fun to make!   😄  A shame there wasn’t any pineapple for garnish...   😉

Make your muse into a parfait!

baddestdad‌:

As the night dwindled into early morning, Robert attention drifted more and more from the show.  There was only so much stupid he could take… and these guys… he was beginning to wonder if they were just incredibly lucky… or not human.  That level of incompetence should’ve gotten them killed ages ago.  So how did they do it…?  He was toying with the idea of looking into them more seriously when he felt Wynter’s head fall onto his shoulder.  The hunter looked down in silent surprise.  Ah… asleep.

He shifted slightly, letting himself settle a little more into the comfort of the couch.  No reason to disturb her… not after the day she’d likely had.  Besides, he’d definitely slept in worse places.  Looking down, he eyed the sleeping woman with a look that was equal parts caring… and assessing.  Not really thinking, Robert reached out and brushed his fingers gently across one cheek before pushing a lock of her hair behind one ear.  Marilyn would’ve like her, he knew that; Wynter was intelligent and brash and had a wicked sense of humor.  His wife had been gone for so long…

With a sigh Robert withdrew his hand and leaned back, tilting his head up towards the ceiling.  Better to get some sleep.  That was supposed to help with problem-solving wasn’t it?  The mark on his hand twinged, but Robert ignored it, letting his eyes flutter closed and willing sleep to come.

   Inhuman? No…No, if they were inhuman, Wynter would have likely figured it out by that point. She’d watched every episode that had ever been released, and they had been on the air for about ten years at that point. Her money was on them just being stupidly lucky, but luck could only last for so long, and then they’d be up shit’s creek without a paddle.

   If he wanted to look into it himself, though, she certainly wouldn’t stop him, she simply requested that she be allowed in on the action.

   Something to talk about at a later date, really. Right now, sleep was far more important than trying to determine if three ghost hunters with a limited vocabulary and too-tight shirts were inhuman, or just really damn stupid.

   Normally, she wouldn’t let herself fall asleep like this, but fucking hellfire, she was too emotionally and physically exhausted to care or be embarrassed about it at that point. Some might say she was crazy to let her guard down like this, given the fact that he was a hunter and she was a witch, but if he was going to kill her, surely he would have done so already. 

   At least, that was what she told herself. 

   But rather than remain at odds like most in their particular situation, the two of them had settled into a strange sort of friendship, hadn’t they? She was grateful for it, grateful that he was able to look beyond what she was, what she could do, and see that she was just someone who wanted to help. Robert was a good man. Complicated, a bit odd even, but a good man all the same. Probably the reason why she was comfortable enough to fall asleep in his presence, honestly…

   There might have been a few other reasons, but she wasn’t – admitting to them just wasn’t something she was up to just yet.