#Chilli Bonkers

[icedragonlizard]

There's a bunch of these guys, there's still many of them that I could not fit in the poll, so an "Other" option is especially necessary here!

[moxsquanch]

not anymore :)

eating alone today :-(

[neda-epik]

I'm so normal about Skylar-Chilli

Skylar-Chilli and Spark belong to @cyucya<3

Anyway, theory time! - Villian! Skylar Chilli

Like imagine Skylar-Chilli decides to run away from home in an effort to get even a little bit of attention from his parents. And ends up at Dr. Eggman, "Maybe they'll show up if they think I got kidnapped?"

And Eggman's more than glad to take him in.

"Of course! Sonic's own child came to me! That blue rat must be around the corner waiting to save him!"

And then like not even a week later of no one showing up he'd say "Damn, kid. They really don't love you, huh?" And I can see an Egg-dad ark happening, yada yada...

What I really can feel in my bones is that SC would definitely go a bit bonkers if he spent time with Egg-dad.

Like.

His parent's worst enemy is better at giving unconditional love than the supposed "amazing heroes" aka his own parents??

(I think Egg-dad at first 'd be like "Ah, yes! Another thing I can use as my pawn for my evil schemes!" and then "You know, I'm actually so proud of this kid doing even something really pathetic, I should make him my successor.")

When Skylar-Chill grows a little older and starts causing some serious ruckus, Sonic and Shadow, now older and weaker are unable to keep up. Spark is the only one capable of stopping him.

She's the only one who really cared for SC from the very start too and feels guilty for how SC ended up (it's not her fault though - she was just a kid)

And Amy is probably dead in this AU cuz if she was here I don't think things would have ended this badly. And we know Rouge likes the kid but I feel like she wouldn't question his actions and just try to support and keep an eye on him, in his "I'm evil now" phase

Sonic and Shadow being peak fail dads:

Aunty Rouge is trying her best</3

Also trying out some new Tools on Sai:)

[just-jordie-things]

the subject of every photo - fushiguro megumi

word count: 5,555 (i'm so proud of that) warnings: swearin' summary: a photoshoot at the pumpkin patch isn't his ideal day, but at least megumi gets to spend time with you. and maybe he'll take a few pictures anyway. (a/n): really delayed pumpkin themed fic with the softest boy but i needed to write this ok a greater power called upon me to do it

___

“It’ll be fun!” Nobara had claimed, although her tone was more threatening than bubbly.  “It’s just a little photoshoot at a pumpkin patch, why so gloomy about it?” 

And it wasn’t that Megumi was gloomy about it, because he wasn’t.  It would be immature to pout about a simple hangout among friends.  The thing was… he just didn’t care for the whole pumpkin patch thing that really seemed to take off on instagram and tiktok these last few years.

He hadn’t carved a pumpkin since he was just a tot, and even then he’d only done it to satisfy Gojo’s bonkers need to participate in every holiday tradition.  He never particularly liked scooping the guts and seeds out, and as a kid wasn’t decent enough with a blade to carve a face that actually looked interesting.  Not to mention, it was always chilly in late October, making it insufferable to wander around outside solely to pick out a big orange vegetable.  

Really, if he wanted a pumpkin that bad, he would’ve picked out a discount one from the grocery store.  But really, he didn’t want a pumpkin.

Nonetheless, Nobara had bought four disposable cameras— which he didn’t know were even still a thing— told everyone to wear their cutest, coziest outfit, and pretty much demanded they all go spend the afternoon at one of the more popular farms in town.  As with most plans, Megumi begrudgingly agreed.

Even under three layers— his coat, his sweater, and the long sleeved tee he wore underneath them both— the crisp air still pricked at his skin and left goosebumps in it’s wake.  It was hard to enjoy being out here when he was fighting the urge to shiver.

“It’s pretty cold for this, huh?” 

Megumi wipes away the resting bitch face he’d been making, opting instead for as much neutrality as he could muster.  He turns to (y/n), only to find her peering up at him from behind her little plastic camera.  His brows wrinkle.

“Don’t take a picture of me at that angle” 

He puts his hand over the lens and pushes it away before she could even think about snapping the photo, and she chuckles a bit at his boyish antics.  He almost cracks a smile when she’s peeking up at him with her cheeks tinged pink from the cold.  He squashes it before his lip could curl too far.

“Well what side do you prefer then?” She teases, shifting around to stand before him and raising her shitty little camera again.  “Full portrait? Or perhaps a side profile?”

Megumi rolls his eyes, but when he starts to walk away, she’s quick to follow.  He doesn’t dislike her company.

Nobara is off farther in the field, ordering Yuuji to pick up as many pumpkins as he can for the perfect picture.  It was only a matter of time before she came over and started barking at the two of them to make the perfect poses as well.

“So why do you hate pumpkin patches?” (y/n) breaks their silence, but when he turns to her again, she’s fixing her camera on a sparrow pecking away at a less than ripe pumpkin.

“I don’t hate pumpkin patches,” He replies, but even he has to admit the dryness in his voice makes it seem a bit unbelievable.  “It’s just…” He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, but he’s quick to straighten his gaze when he finds her full attention on him now.  “Cold” He finishes, lamely, but it’s not untrue.

He fiddles with the plastic camera in his hands.

“Yeah,” (y/n) agrees from beside him.  “Would’ve been nice to do this a few weeks ago, when it was still sunny” 

Megumi nods back at her, unsure of what else to say.

He hoped that they weren’t doomed to only speak about the weather today.  However that meant he’d probably have to put the effort in to change the subject.  His palms began to sweat.

It was their day off, so he didn’t want to strike up a conversation about work, and preferably he’d like to avoid the subject of sorcery altogether.  So that narrowed down the options by a lot.

He knew that like him, she liked to read.  But she was more into the fantasy stuff, and the only book off the top of his head he could make conversation about was The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe and he was fairly certain that wasn’t currently on her shelf.

Was it always this hard or was he just overthinking it? 

“Wait, stay right there!” 

Before he can suck it up and ask how her most recent assignment went, (y/n’s) throwing her arms up at him to make him freeze in place.  Megumi startles at the sudden movement and holler, but he listens and stays put while she backs up a few steps.

“The sun is peeking out,” She explains, before steadying her camera in front of her face.  “The lighting is great” She says with a grin, and then without warning, she snaps the photo.

Megumi wants to complain, he didn’t even have time to smile or pose or anything.  When that picture got printed, he’d just be a guy standing there, probably with a resting bitch face.  Nobara wouldn’t be happy.

But (y/n’s) still grinning as she lowers the camera.

“Too bad we gotta wait so long to see ‘em,” She says as she heads back towards him.  “It’d be nice to—” 

“Stop moving” 

He’s more blunt than she is, already lifting his camera and peeking through the small lens.  (y/n) gets the hint and retraces her steps to fit properly in the frame.

“Better?” She asks, tossing her hair over her shoulder dramatically before posing with a bright smile.

Megumi snaps the photo without warning, although he’s sure that this one will turn out much better than the one she’d taken of him.  For one, she’s smiling, but he’s also certain that she’s much more photogenic than he is.

She’s at his side again as they wander around the patch, fiddling to fit the camera into the pocket of her coat.  It takes him a few minutes to find his courage again, but eventually Megumi clears his throat and tries to spark conversation.

“Gojo used to take a million pictures of me and Tsumiki” 

That seems to be exactly the right thing to say, because (y/n’s) entire demeanor lights up as she looks up at him with wide eyes.

“Really?” She laughs softly at the mental picture.  “Did he keep, like, photo albums and stuff?” 

“Oh yeah,” Megumi snorted, recalling the rows of photo books on the living room bookshelf when he was young.  “Dozens, at least.  It was like he couldn’t commit a thing to memory, always had to document everything” 

When he was young, it was obnoxious to always have a camera shoved in his face.  Now though, he wonders if the crazy bastard still had those albums.

“That’s sweet,” (y/n) muses, wandering off a bit to check out a display of gourds, all varying in shapes and colors.  “I bet there’s tons of embarrassing ones of you, too” She teases. 

Megumi doesn’t give her an answer, instead silently watching as she picks up a large green vegetable with a curly top.  She holds the long end in her hand, before turning to face Megumi with the plump end out, holding it like it was a very deformed gun.

He rolls his eyes at the joke, but just as she looks away, he snaps a photo.

(y/n) seems to not even notice, setting the gourd back on the display and turning back to Megumi to continue their conversation.

“Was he a scrapbook mom?”

He chuckles, and he wants to deny it, but he can’t.  Even if he tried he thinks she’d see through it with how he smiles with all of his teeth.  She’s laughing before he even explains.

“He made one scrapbook, ever,” He tells her.  “And you have to swear to never tell them this,” He adds quickly.  (y/n) doesn’t have to ask to know who he means, and she simply drags her thumb and forefinger over her lips as if to zip them up.  “It took him weeks.  I think the kitchen table was covered in all of his crafts for a solid month” 

“You’re kidding!” She laughs louder, loving the image of her mentor hunched over a table while he glued down photos and ribbon to pretty sheets of paper.

“I wish I was.  I think it’s why he only ever made one,” Megumi shrugged.  “But it’s… a lot.  Every sheet was three dimensional.  The spine of the scrapbook was stretched so wide the thing couldn’t even sit flat” 

He knows that all of the pictures in that book would be embarrassing now.  Gojo liked to document every first— first day of school, first science project, first A+, along with more ridiculous milestones, like when Megumi chopped all of his hair off in the fifth grade and looked ridiculous.  If he remembered correctly, Gojo glued that hair in the book too, as if it were his baby hairs.  That scrapbook really should be burned, but a part of him wishes he could show her now, just to prove how messy it really is.

“I’d do anything to get my hands on it,” (y/n) sighed, almost as if she could read his mind.  “My parents did some stuff like that, but they certainly weren’t obsessive” 

“Obsession is all he knows” Megumi mumbles, and he doesn’t mean to be funny, but she laughs, and it makes his chest feel warm.

“I still think it’s sweet,” She assures him, and then she stops in their slow and aimless walk, kneeling down to tie the shoelaces on her boot.  Megumi waits beside her.  He cared much more for her company than he did seeing the pumpkin patch.  “He probably just wanted to save lots of memories of you guys when you were little.  All parents say it goes by fast” 

She goes to tie the other boot, and Megumi can only stand there in soft surprise.  Sure, deep down he always considered Gojo his parent, because he simply just was.  But no one else referred to their relationship that way, the others always called him teacher or mentor.  But (y/n) must’ve understood that it was more than that.

He’s pulling his camera out again and stealing another quick picture while she was still focused on her shoes.

When she stands, he’s got the camera tucked back into his pocket and an innocent look on his face.

“Want to take a picture over there?” She asks, pointing to the tower of hay bales set up mostly for photos.  Originally it was for children to climb and play on, but it’s purpose was far more often served as a posing station.

Megumi simply nods, and follows her as she races over the tower.  It shouldn’t have surprised him when she started climbing the thing right away.  Surely Nobara had been over here earlier, striking a pose with one hand on her hip and the other on the stack of hay, but not (y/n), who was almost to the top.

“You’re not gonna fall, right?” Megumi asks unsurely as she’s grabbing at the highest bale.

“I’m a trained athlete!” She shrieks back, clearly offended.

“I’m more worried about you destroying the play area” Megumi retorted, his lip curling upwards against his will.  He can’t help but take a picture before she’s settled.  Her hair’s a mess and her limbs are everywhere as she tries to steady herself on the wobbling tower, but it’s a perfect picture nonetheless.

“This is great!” She shouts back at him, before stretching her hands above her head.  “Take my photo like this!” 

It’s silly, it’s childish, but Megumi’s laughing to himself as he snaps a couple.

Somehow she manages to climb down without toppling the entire thing, and they quickly make their way across the pumpkin patch before an employee could scold them for being grown adults playing on the children’s setup.

Megumi finds it easier to talk with her the longer they walk around, aimlessly eyeing pumpkins without committing to picking any out, taking photos here and there, but mostly they just wander around and talk.  Yuji and Nobara seem so wrapped up in the full on photoshoot they were having with each other that it could seem like they’d completely forgotten the other pair, but Megumi didn’t mind one bit.

Hang outs never turned out like this.  Nobara tended to cling to (y/n) like a lifeline.  She was always dragging her off to the next boutique on the strip or game in the arcade or exhibit at the museum— wherever they went, it seemed as soon as Megumi would get a minute of alone time with her, Nobara would steal her away.  It was deflating, but he couldn’t be mad, they were best friends after all.

Today was like a gloomy day miracle.  He almost felt spoiled having the last half hour with her all to himself.  All of her laughter and smiles were only for him.  It warmed up his chilled hands until soon, even the breeze wouldn’t make him shiver.

(y/n) didn’t appear to have the same effect, shaking like a leaf every time the wind picked up.  She always shrank into the collar of her coat and shoved her hands into her pockets, and after a few times, Megumi couldn’t stand to see her freezing.

“Let’s go inside for a bit,” He nodded his head towards the small shop.  (y/n) pouted back at him, before glancing around the pumpkin patch, clearly looking for their friends.  “They won’t be upset that we went inside because we’re cold,” Megumi chuckles to himself, before gently pushing his hand against the small of her back so that he’d follow her.  “I’ll text Itadori” He adds for good measure.

After a moment of hesitation she agreed and walked along with him, but just slow enough that he left his hand on her lower back.  Just because it was nice to be so close to him.

Stepping into the shop was an instant rush of fresh warm air, and she finally felt like she could stretch her fingers.  There was a small bakery inside with only a couple of tables, but without anyone else inside it was perfectly quaint to warm up in.

“I’m going to order a hot chocolate, do you want anything?”

The offer was sweet, but she’s already making her way to the counter, set on a mission as soon as the alluring smell of apples and cinnamon wafted past her nose.

“I could go for a coffee” Megumi hummed as he followed.

He’s ordering for the both of them as soon as a clerk arrives behind the counter, two drinks along with the enormous bear claw in the glass case that (y/n) hadn’t torn her eyes away from since stepping up to the counter.  She tries to fight him when he pulls out his wallet but he’s faster at tapping his card to the reader than she is at hitting him.

Even once they sit down with their drinks and the pastry that takes up most of the table space between them, she argues with him about the payment, and all he can do is shake his head— and maybe smile to himself just a little bit.  After realizing arguing is futile, she decides that as long as he eats some of the bear claw, she can forgive him.

And they continue to chat, about dumb things, about nothing, about everything.  Megumi learns all about the book series that she is reading, along with her plans for getting promoted faster, and that her dream pet is a sugar glider.

“That’s ridiculous,” He mumbles through a mouthful of almond paste and cinnamon.  “When would you ever have the time to take care of something like that?”

“That’s why it’s a dream pet, dummy,” (y/n) rolls her eyes at him.  “Doesn’t have to be realistic.  Don’t you have a dream pet?” 

“I kinda already have a lot of pets” 

“Oh, right,” She laughs to herself, and he thinks he can see a hint of a blush dusting over her cheeks.  Was she embarrassed? He wasn’t sure exactly.  But it was really cute.  “Well if there’s ever a sugar glider shikigami, please summon it for me” She tells him in all seriousness, and Megumi bites his tongue as he agrees to the condition immediately.

He pulls out his camera for the tenth time that day and rests his elbows on the table as he brings it to his face.  (y/n’s) eyes widen before she’s covering half her face with one hand.

“Are you taking a picture of me right now?” She hisses anxiously, before shaking her head at him.

“Duh” He mutters out as he tilts forward and back, trying to find just the right angle of lighting.

“I’m eating—” 

“So? Not like you have food on your face.  Hush.  Go back to eating or something” 

“I am not letting you take a picture of me while I eat” 

“Alright then just sit there then” 

She’s grabbing her paper cup of hot cocoa to use as a shield, but it’s too late.  Megumi clicks the button and she can hear the soft whirring coming from inside the camera.

The lens cuts to black and Megumi pulls the camera away, eyeing the little roll of numbers next to the lens.

“I’m out already,” He says, tossing it onto the table.  “Guess I win” 

(y/n) laughs to herself.

“I didn’t know this was a competition,” She takes a sip of her warm beverage before setting it back down.  “But I can’t believe you finished before me”

“How many do you have left?” 

Curiously, (y/n) pulls the camera out of her pocket and eyes the tape with the amount of film left.  She frowns as she looks back up at him.

“Just one,” She answers, and her frown tilts into a small, soft smile before she asks, “Do you want to take one together?” 

___

Greedily, Nobara snatches the stack of freshly printed photos out of Megumi’s hands.  (y/n) and Yuji are too busy sharing theirs with each other, and Nobara had been dying to know what photos Megumi and (y/n) had taken on their last outing.  By the time the group had met up and gone home, their cameras were already full, and she knew she hadn’t been the subject of a single one of them.

“I swear Fushiguro if these are all dumb pictures of pumpkins, I’ll—” 

But her threat falls short after sliding through the first three pictures.

The first was (y/n) on the path, just standing and smiling.  It wasn’t special, there wasn’t even a pumpkin in the background, but it was cute.

The second was a picture of her crouched down and tying her shoe.  Her face wasn’t even in the picture, her hair was hanging in front of it, but if you squinted you could barely make out the tip of her nose.

Then the third was another candid, where she was pretending to hold a gourd like a gun.

“What the—?” 

Nobara flips through to the next one in the stack, and yet again there’s a candid of her climbing up the side of a hay bale tower.  At least that one captured her smile.  She shouldn’t have been surprised to see the fifth one in the stack was also of (y/n), this time sitting on top of the haystack victoriously

“You’ve got to be kidding me, dude” 

“Okay give them back—!” Megumi tries to grab the stack of pictures from Nobara before she could keep being nosey, but she deflects fast, swiveling to turn away from him and keep skipping through the photos.

He shouldn’t have let her get her hands on them to begin with, but it was too late now.  If he caused too big of a scene, Yuji and (y/n) would notice.  He didn’t exactly want all of his pictures on display.

So Nobara kept flipping.

One was of her lifting up the tiniest of pumpkins— definitely the runt of the whole patch.  It fit in the palm of her hand but she seemed delighted by it.

The next few were just of her walking around, nothing too exciting in the frame.  Just the occasional pumpkin in the background.

There was a decent one taken from inside the shop.  (y/n) was still in the frame but her back was turned as she eyed the glass case of sweets.  Nobara could almost let Megumi off the hook for that one.  Almost.

And then the last photo was of her laughing, the blurry image of a paper cup waving in the space beside her face.  Her eyes are on the camera, so she must’ve known he was taking that picture, but judging by the surprise in her expression, it was easy to conclude she was trying to hide behind that cup.

Once she’d ogled every picture, Nobara finally turned back to Megumi.  Her brows twitched and furrowed, lips parted in shock, not a single word spoken as she handed the stack back to him.  It’s practically shoved towards him, but he doesn’t complain, just snatches them back as fast as he can.

He wants to find a way to quickly and discreetly ask her to keep this to herself, but before he can find the words, she’s gawking at him again.

“Every single one?” Nobara asks in a mutter.

“We hung out the whole time, okay? It's not like—” Megumi tries to defend himself, but it’s no use.  Nobara’s already speaking over him again.

“It’s almost pathetic, dude.  Just ask her out like a normal person” 

His brows almost raise to his hairline in shock.  Here he thought she was about to call him out for being a creep or something.  But no, her disgust only lied in his pathetic pining and lack of action.  Maybe he should have assumed that already.

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything before Nobara’s marching over to Yuji and demanding to see his photos as well.  Megumi’s left reeling from the whole interaction, the humiliation still lingering in his gut.

The feeling remains as (y/n) makes her way to him, her own fresh stack of photos in her hands.  There’s a nervous sort of smile on her face as she glances back at Yuji and Nobara, double checking that they were out of earshot.

“They took that pretty seriously, huh?” Her voice was still low, careful not to draw the attention of their rambunctious friends.  “Yuji takes great photos, don’t get me wrong.  But I think she should pay him for his time” 

There’s some relief in his chest when he cracks a smile, a small laugh coming out.  He could only imagine the quality of Nobara and Yuji’s photos, certainly prepped for instagram.

“I bet she still puts filters over all of them” He mutters back, and (y/n) stifles a giggle behind her hand, but nods her head in agreement.

“Can we leave now or what?” Nobara calls out, already dragging Yuji by the arm to leave the store.  “I want to get boba before home” 

“Boba sounds good,” (y/n) agrees softly.  “Let’s go” 

As the red head continued to drag her friend despite him arguing that he was an adult who could walk by himself, she turned and aggressively whispered something to him.  After her obvious threatening, she glances back at (y/n) and Megumi, which Yuji promptly follows her pointed glance.  Suddenly after that he was upright and speed walking along with her.

(y/n) and Megumi share a baffled look as their friends so blatantly ditch them, but they don’t exactly pick up the pace to follow.

“So, did you get good photos?” Megumi asks, tucking his own away in his pocket.  Foolishly, he hoped if they were out of sight she wouldn’t ask him about them.

“Oh,” (y/n) chuckles nervously, holding her stack of pictures in both hands.  She tilts them towards herself so he can’t see, and Megumi raises a brow at the secrecy.  “It’s kind of embarrassing, actually” She says sheepishly.

Her cheeks flood with color, and Megumi can’t help the curious grin that begins to stretch across his face.

“Embarrassing?” He repeats, sounding horrifically hopeful.  (y/n) sighs, and sticks her arm out, handing him the stack.  He’s quick to take them and start flipping through, eyeing her anxious demeanor in his peripheral vision.

“Yuji’s probably going to tell you anyway.  But… they’re sort of all..” 

His steps slow further after quickly sliding through the bunch of pictures.

The first was at the entrance of the pumpkin patch, with the cute sign with the family name painted on it, and just under it was him.  He wasn’t paying attention, and quite frankly he looked rather bored standing there.  She must’ve taken it while he was still pouting about having to go.

The next photo was of the sparrow poking at the rotted pumpkin, and he had to admit the way she captured it actually was sort of cute.

The third was the photo Megumi dreaded seeing.  He recognized it as soon as he saw himself standing on the thin path of dirt.  He grimaced as he looked closer to see just how bad it was.  But to his surprise, he wasn’t scowling like he thought he’d been.  He was actually smiling.  

Which was odd… he certainly didn’t remember smiling for that picture.  He clearly remembered being upset because he hadn’t tried to look nice for her picture at all.

He glances at (y/n) to gauge her reaction so far, but she was holding her expression at a neutral state, waiting for him to react first.

So Megumi goes back to the photos, and flips to the next one.  Which was… also him.  It wasn’t anything special, just him standing there, but he was smiling a little bit in that one, too.

When the following is also a candid of him with that dumb little smile, he glances over at (y/n) again, raising a brow at her in silent question.

She’s a tough one to crack, but the corner of her lips gives her away as she tries to bite back a smile.  His own smile is unable to be hidden as he flips through a few more photos.

And to his shock and delight, they’re all him.  Him while he was picking up that big pumpkin she dared him to, him while he was drinking his coffee and not paying attention, him just standing and doing nothing in particular, but for whatever reason, she’d used up all her film on capturing it.  

His favorite is the one of the both of them.  She’d given him the camera so he could stretch his arm out and snap the photo selfie style.  They’re sitting at the small table, two paper cups and the enormous bear claw between them, but pushed aside as (y/n) leans across the tabletop in order to better center herself.  She’s grinning from ear to ear, her chin set in one hand while the other holds up a peace sign.  Megumi’s smile isn’t as wide but nevertheless it’s genuine, and anyone looking at the picture would know.  It’s a great picture of the two of them, and he thinks it’s probably the first, too. 

Megumi hadn’t realized he’d gone through the whole stack till he flips to the next one and is met with the first photo, but once he does, (y/n’s) quick to reach out and take them back.  She doesn’t snatch them as aggressively as Nobara had, she handles them gently, careful not to leave an ugly smudge or crease.

Megumi watches with eager intrigue as she tucks the edges together neatly, making the stack smooth in her hands.

“Sorry if that’s creepy— is that creepy?” She turns to him suddenly, full of worry that she’d crossed a line, but Megumi just chuckles, and shakes his head at her.

“Not creepy” He muses, his soft smile remaining as he dips his hand into his pocket, retrieving his own small collection of photos.

He stares at them for an indecisive minute, clenching and unclenching his jaw, working up the courage to make the smallest of gestures.  When he does hold them out to her, he still doesn’t say a thing.  His throat is too dry and hot to even try.  He thinks it would be worse if his voice cracked right now.

(y/n) smiles as she tucks her pictures away in her purse with great care so that she could better look through the pictures he’d taken.  His face flushes with color when she finally takes them from him.  Even the small brush of the tips of her fingers against his has Megumi’s breath catching in his throat.

And he holds his breath as she eagerly slides through the stack of photos.  His throat is far too constricted now to show any sign of life.  He very well could pass out at any moment.  He just hopes she’d leave him there in a heap on the ground.

The relief of the exhale doesn’t come until she begins to giggle.  It’s soft at first, almost under her breath as she continues admiring his photos, but then it erupts into something brilliant and bubbly, as if it was coming out of her uncontrollably.  As lovely as the reaction was, it didn’t do much to ease Megumi’s nerves.  They began to sink their teeth into his heart and gut, and he knew that any minute now, his knees would give out.

When her laughter calms down and she finally looks up at him, the surprise is evident on his features when he sees her colored cheeks and nervous smile.  She hands the stack back to him, and Megumi’s quick to tuck them into his pocket, where maybe he they’d disappear forever, or at least just from the front of their minds.

“That’s pretty cute, huh?” She asks, an aftershock of quiet laughter shaking her shoulders and crinkling the corners of her eyes.  This time, Megumi can’t help the way he laughs with her, but he does duck his head bashfully.

(y/n) thinks it’s all the more cuter, how he resorts to his nervous habit of rubbing the back of his neck and looking anywhere but directly at her.  She wonders if he even knows he’s doing it.  With a surge of confidence, she rocks on her feet.

“Wanna ditch our friends and get lunch or something?” 

He shrugs and nods, thinking anything would be better sustenance than the too-sugary drinks that Nobara had an addiction to.  But the implication of the question dawns on him too late, and suddenly his eyes are widening as he realizes what she really meant.

“You mean— like, a date?” 

It’s so damn cute the way his brows furrow and then raise ever so slightly, waiting without a single ounce of patience for her clarification.  (y/n’s) giggling again as she nods her head, putting him out of his misery.

“Yeah, like a date,” She repeats teasingly.

Megumi nods his head again, this time faster, as if there was a time limit to her offer and he was worried he’d already wasted too much of it.  Her smile brightens and there’s a small but noticeable skip in her step as they head off in a new direction together.

“Now maybe it won’t be so creepy when our friends see those pictures” She says, and Megumi can’t decipher if she’s messing with him or not.  The look he gives her barely hides his panic.

“They’re gonna see them?”

“What do you think they’re talking about right now?” (y/n) retorts, knowing for a fact that Yuji and Nobara were gossiping away about the pair’s photos that consisted only of each other.  

The thought makes Megumi’s face feel hot, and there’s no discretion in the way he tugs at his collar.  The idea makes him nervous, his stomach flipping excessively.  That said, he knew with the amount of gossip those two chatterboxes would generate, there was plenty of time to add a date to today’s agenda.

“They probably won’t even notice we’re gone”

(y/n) nods in agreement.

“They’ll be grateful to have the time for girl talk,” She teases.

With purpose, she steps closer to him so she could link her arm around his, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow and shyly smiling up at him.  Megumi returns the smile, his arm hooking a little further to keep her tucked next to him as close as he wanted.  It was another chilly day outside, but he could almost forget about it with the way her closeness sparked warmth in his chest that flooded throughout his whole body.  He hoped he’d get to do this for the rest of their day—

“So… where do we want to go?”

—and more days to come. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

[yumeaoka-chan]

Locked In❣️

Valentine's Day fic early because I usually just forget it, lol. Credit to @cafekitsune for the lovely banners! Lovingly made and ready for you @the-kr8tor & @pleaktale 💕

Pairing: Ekko x fem! Reader x Hobie Brown/ Ekko x Reader x Spider-Punk! Hobie Brown

Word Count: 1.8k

Tags: fluff, cursing, crying(not what you think, lol), no physical description of reader, no use of y/n, modern au (they're all in Hobie's universe, really), everyone here is absolutely lovestruck/lovesick

Summary: You spend Valentine's Day with your two favorite people in the whole world.

“Well… they don't look too bad”, you mumble as you add the finishing touches to the two small boxes of homemade chocolate, piping little white hearts made out of white chocolate onto the truffles. You tilt your head at the slightly misshapen pieces, narrowing your eyes and pursing your lips as you juggle between taking them out or not. The sight of fingers slowly reaching for a truffle takes you out of your musings, your hand quick to slap at them in retaliation. “I already let you try a piece, Ned!”

“But they're temptin’ me”, the man whines before huffing and moving to lean up against the fridge. He gives you a playful glare and groans, letting out his woes as he watches you place the tops onto the boxes and carefully wrap around them a red ribbon. “I let you use my flat to make your treats and I can't get any more? Bonkers.”

Rolling your eyes, you smile and clean up your workstation, wiping down the counters and washing dishes. Days before while sitting in at one of Hobie's band practices, you had shared your concerns with his friend about your chocolate dilemma. Ned had offered for you to use his kitchen so that you could work without the risk of being caught mid gift making, caramel filled truffles for Ekko and coconut cream filled truffles for Hobie. And if the man's constant sneaking for more treats was anything to go by, they must taste pretty good.

“You'll get your orange cream filled ones next week like I promised”, you remind him while gathering the supplies you brought. Carefully picking up the small heart shaped boxes, you place them inside of your tote bag, glancing over at the time shining on the microwave on the countertop. It was almost six, around the time that they both returned home. Ned walks you towards the door, pointing at you with a wide grin on his face as you step outside.

“Don't forget, ‘kay? Hope you guys have a nice evenin’, mate.” With a wave goodbye, you make your way back to your shared flat, pulling your jacket a bit tighter around your shoulders as the chilly London air hits your face. Steps quick and purposeful, you hurry back home, wanting to get there before they do in an attempt to appear as though you'd been there waiting for them the whole day. The thought of their surprised faces when you hand them their presents before kissing them sweetly has a smile flitting across your face, heart growing warm at the image. It makes you eager to complete your journey home, feet moving even faster towards your destination.

Just as you reach the building with your flat, however, you don't notice the person rushing to the door at the same time as you, the two of you colliding into each other. You let out a small gasp as you brace for the incoming impact of falling onto the ground, only for steady hands to slip around your back and hold you upright. Blinking up at your savior, your heart thuds in your chest at the familiar sight of hazel brown eyes greeting you warmly. Beaded white twists frame Ekko's face as he peers down at you, shock coloring his gaze.

“You alright, mama? I didn't hurt you, did I”, he asks worriedly as his eyes scan your frame, hands moving to rub gently at your arms. The nickname has you all but swooning, just the very sight of him enough to make you giddy. Smiling up at him, you shake your head and take his hands in yours.

“Nope. I'm okay, 'Ko”, you say softly as you both head into the building hand in hand, heading towards your shared flat. A quick glance inside of your bag on your shoulder, you let out a sigh of relief at seeing the boxes of chocolates still pristine and unaffected by the small collision just now. “Did everything go well at the community center today?”

“Yeah, just a minor mix-up about a delivery of sugar. Nothing major.” He gazes at you with an eyebrow quirked, curiosity shining in his eyes and a small knowing smile playing on his lips. His gaze drifts over to your tote bag and you pull it closer to your body, not wanting him to see the gifts yet. “What about you, huh? Thought you would've been home this whole time, bug.”

“I was but I went to the store up the street for some snacks.” You lie straight through your teeth, batting your eyelashes up at him innocently. Ekko rolls his eyes and scoffs, smile widening.

“Sure you were. Let's get on home and wait for Hobie. I've actually got something for you both.” His words make you light up with interest, curious about this gift that Ekko has prepared for you and Hobie. Standing before the door of your shared flat, a pleasant, mouth watering scent hits your nose, wafting from behind the door. Which was odd because none of you had cooked a thing before you left. Sharing a confused look with Ekko, you stand close behind as he slowly unlocks the door. The sight that greets you once you stand inside takes your breath away.

Lights off and the furniture in your tiny living room rearranged. Fairy lights decorate the sheets and blankets draped over chairs, pillows and extra blankets strewn about on the floor, a makeshift pillow fort. On a small table near the fort lies full glasses and plates of warm food begging to be eaten, enticing aroma beckoning you forward.

“Damn… He didn't have to do all this”, Ekko mumbles softly beside you as he lovingly looks at the work done by the punk that was now rounding the corner, sauntering into the living room with an excited grin on his face. Hobie goes up to you both and grabs your hands, leading you both down towards the pillow fort.

“Surprise! Been ‘ere this whole time. You lot like it”, he asks as brings both your hand and Ekko's up to his lips, placing gentle kisses on your knuckles and gazing at the two of you sweetly. Russet brown eyes shining with adoration and looking at you and the man beside you like you both are the stars and the moon above. It's a wonder how Hobie doesn't practically topple over when you both crowd him, Ekko placing gentle kisses on his cheek and temple while you brush your lips along his chin and jaw. His chuckles are warm and sweet in your ear as you both adorn him with affection. Once he's properly smooched, you hand them both their assigned boxes of chocolates. They both instantly bite into one and you feel yourself swell with pride at the way their eyes light up at the taste.

“You made these yourself, love? You're a fuckin’ professional.” Hobie muses as he eats another piece, seemingly enjoying the coconut cream immensely. Ekko nods in agreement and you feel heat rush to your cheeks as they both pepper your face with kisses. After a while, you all sit back and enjoy the food Hobie's prepared for you.

“This isn't just normal pasta, innit.”

“What is it then,” Ekko questions between a mouthful of pasta, looking over at the punk expectantly. The smirk that graces Hobie's lips is all the warning you get.

“‘S Marry Me pasta”, he hums softly, amusement shining in his eyes. You let out a loud sigh, shaking your head at the cheesy name. Ekko scrunches his nose up and shakes his head.

“If we all were married, I'd have divorced you just now”, he says jokingly, Hobie letting out a loud gasp of feigned offense at his words. You giggle as you watch the exchange between the two.

“And ‘ere I thought you loved me, ‘Ko. ‘S alright, I still have you, lovie.” The punk lets out a sigh as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close to him while he sticks out his tongue at Ekko who lets out a feigned grimace of indignation, making you laugh and causing both men to gaze at you with hearts in their eyes. Hours pass as you all finish your meal and talk for hours, time spent together engulfed with tenderness as you all lie within the pillow fort, your head resting on Ekko's chest while his rests on Hobie's with the punk's arms wrapped around you both.

It's then that Ekko shifts, moving his head and gently tapping your waist, signaling you to move from your spot on top of him. As he sits up completely, so do you and Hobie, eyebrows twisted in confusion at his sudden absence. Taking a deep breath and eyes glancing down at the pillows beneath you all, Ekko's hands rummage in the pockets of his jacket that he'd discarded near the opening of the fort, pulling out a single small emerald colored velvet box.

“I just figured… I-I made these and it was time I gave you both my gift since you gave yours," he mumbles quietly, almost hesitantly as if he was worried you'd hate it. Fingers pulling open the box, you can feel your very breath being stolen at the silver glinting at you from the plush cushion of the box. Three silver rings with carvings of green leaves etched into the metal sparkle up at you and as Ekko lifts two of them from out of the box, you feel your eyes start to sting with unshed tears because-

“You engraved our fuckin’ initials, ‘Ko…?” Hobie whispers, voice cracking ever so slightly as the man holding the rings slips one onto your index finger before doing the same to Hobie. There, on the inside of the metal, were the initials of your first names, written so beautifully that you can't help the tears falling now. Sniffles leave your lips as you take the last ring out of the box, Hobie tenderly holding Ekko's hand steady as you slip the silver jewelry onto his finger.

“I can't believe you really made these”, you choke out, wiping at the tears that blur your vision as you peer up at him with such love that he practically melts. “These are so beautiful, Ekko. So, so beautiful.”

“I figured it was about time we had something matching. I-”, Ekko's words are cut off as both you and Hobie, with tears streaming down your faces, practically tackle him down onto the pillows. He lets out a surprised yelp before laughing as he's bombarded with kisses all over his face, tears of his own pricking in the corners of his eyes. Which are quickly swept away by your lips as Hobie rains affection all along his neck and jawline. He squirms and scrunches his face as lips trail over the light patches on his dark skin, face warm under the flood of adoration.

“Wait, wait… Guys…! Let me up…!” Ekko huffs as you cradle his face lovingly in your hands, Hobie's slipping to wrap around his waist. And as he glances at the hearts in both you and Hobie's eyes, he lets out a sigh, smile widening as he resigns himself to his fate and allows you both to sweep him up in your love.

[marlynnofmany]

Double Dog Dare

“Are you warm enough?” I asked Paint as we walked. My fingers were chilly against the box I carried, but it was small enough that I could reach to rub them together.

“Yes,” Paint said firmly. She pulled her heat shawl close, nuzzling her scaly orange face into its yellow warmth. “This is fully charged, and much better than my old one.”

“Well, no falling in the water for you today.”

“No falling in the water for me ever!” she said. “Unless the water is warm. Then it would be nice.”

I looked around at the industrial ruins that we walked through, all damp concrete and convoluted passageways. Even the sunlight on this planet felt thin. “I don’t think anything around here is warm.”

“Not yet,” Paint said with a lift of her snout. “I’m sure they’ll get things back in working order soon. That box probably holds a key heating circuit or something, and the area will become more hospitable in no time.”

I smiled at her priorities. As a coldblooded Heatseeker, she could hardly be blamed for expecting warmth to be high on the to-do list. I would have focused more on landing pad repair personally, so visiting couriers didn’t have to walk through this maze of alien architecture to reach the inhabited area, but that’s just me.

At any rate, our delivery timeline was short but so was the best route, at least according to the map on my phone. If we kept up a brisk pace, we’d get there well before the client started to grumble. And in this chill there was no reason to dawdle.

Sudden voices echoed off the walls: laughter from a few people at once. Distinctly human laughter. The locals were Frillians, so who were these?

Paint craned her neck to pinpoint the source of the voices, looking just as curious as I was. Then we walked around a corner and met a cluster of humans in blue jackets with a logo that I recognized immediately.

“Hey, it’s the crew of the good ship Hold My Beer!” I said in greeting. “How’s the droid jousting business?”

“Hello again!” said Captain Parker, flashing that bright smile set off by his dark skin. “We’re here for an outdoor tournament. Just on the way to check in now. You guys making another delivery?” The handful of other humans nodded at us.

Paint said, “Yes! It’s probably important! But we don’t know for sure. They wanted it in a hurry.”

Captain Parker pulled out a holo map of his own, and pointed down a concrete corridor. “This is definitely the fastest route that we can see. Pretty bonkers city design.” He started walking with a glance at the gray sky.

I hitched the box up and fell in step with the group. “I don’t think it was a city originally. No idea what, but these don’t look like stores or houses.”

Paint took short-legged strides beside me, offering suggestions for what these reclaimed ruins could have been, and the walk passed quickly. We’d moved on to discuss the jousting crew’s latest wins and new uniforms — those Stabby the Roomba emblems were very stylish — when we passed through an open doorway and discovered a problem.

The passage ahead of us was a deep chasm between concrete walls, open to the sky and devoid of branching passages, with a doorway at the bottom of several concrete steps. The door was closed. And the steps were filled with water.

I stopped. “Hm.”

“Aw man,” Captain Parker exclaimed, getting out his map again.

“What do we do?” asked Paint, clicking her scaly knuckles together. “This was the fast route! Our client is on a timeline!”

I thumped my chin against the box. “I knew we should have used the hoverbike.”

“You would have crashed into a wall! These walkways are far too narrow.”

“No I wouldn’t.”

A sturdy woman from the jousting crew shone a pocket flashlight into the murky water. It was all in shadow, thanks to an awning up top that seemed ironically meant to protect from the rain. Like everything else around here, it was janky and broken, but made of metal that hadn’t rusted through yet. Canvas would have been long gone.

I eyed the many cracks in the walls, with pipes and alien rebar sticking out. “I don’t suppose anyone feels like climbing over?”

“The box doesn’t have a carry strap,” Paint pointed out. “And I am not one of you climbing experts.”

A heavyset man with gray hair chuckled at that. “You’re not the only one.”

This turned into a side conversation about how Paint was under the impression that all humans were talented climbers by her standards, until Captain Parker interrupted.

“While this would be the most direct route, I see three other possibilities that shouldn’t take us in too many circles. It really is a shame, though. This one’s a nice straight shot if we could get the door open. Can you see the catch, Ruby?”

“Barely,” the woman reported. “This light is garbage. But it looks just like those other doors. Too bad we don’t have a long pole or something to work the catch with.”

I looked up. “That awning looks like it has a couple poles! I wonder if they come off.”

Paint yelped, “The water is rising!” She pointed, clutching her shawl. “It was below that step before!”

“Dang, you’re right.” Ruby stepped back. The other crewmates gestured to cracks that reached above water, which could easily be causing leaks below.

“We should go,” decided Captain Parker. “Get a head start on one of the long routes.”

“But our client!” Paint exclaimed. “They need the package in a hurry, and will tell everyone we’re unreliable!”

While everyone voiced an opinion, ranging from “Route B” to “Route C” to “rock-paper-scissors for who gets dunked in the hypothermia water,” I shoved the box at Paint. “Hold this,” I said. Then I got a running start and leapt up for a good grip on a crack in the wall.

There were plenty of footholds. Some of the metal bits sticking out were loose, but not enough to fall out. I focused on making sure each step was secure as quickly as possible, and reached the top in no time.

Thankfully it was wide enough to balance on without too much worry. That water wasn’t deep enough to land in safely, never mind the temperature.

Speaking of water, I thought with dawning horror, This is about to be bad.

Several rows away in this maze was a broken pipe the size of my torso, spewing water into a reservoir that was near to overflowing. Some of the water was leaking out through cracks in the sides already, leading to a puddle that was dripping through to make the one on our side.

The route back is in the danger zone too! Maybe if we’re fast enough, we can get to that open area over there. Or get everybody else up here. But I don’t trust this wall to stay intact if that dam fails all at once.

My phone buzzed, making me jump. It was Paint. I realized she’d probably been yelling for my attention, and I didn’t hear. There were sounds of pouring water up here, not to mention the blood rushing in my ears. I answered the phone.

“What are you staring at?” she demanded. “Get the pole!”

“Right,” I said, hurrying along the wall. “We may not have enough time, even if I can get it free. There’s more water that could flood the area at any moment. I think somebody has to swim for the catch.”

“What! How much water?”

“Lots. Hang on.” I stuck the phone in my pocket to free both hands for the awning. Up close, it looked much rustier and ancient than below. The pole at the side was welded on. I braced my feet and gave it a good yank. That produced a metal screech and a rain of rust particles, but not much else. Pushing and pulling to work it loose let me fold the awning back so watery sunshine illuminated the door catch far below. The jousting crew shouted about it indistinctly.

I leaned against the awning, holding it back while I got my phone out. “It’s not coming loose,” I told Paint. “Tell him there’s a dam about to break, and one of his people needs to open the door.”

There was lots of indistinct shouting at that. I couldn’t make out all of the words, especially since the water sounds were increasing, thanks to a new crack the water levels had just reached. Captain Parker was shaking his head at Paint, who’d set down the box so she could hold the phone and gesture wildly. He waved at me to come down, and pointed back at the way we’d come. I shook my head and pointed at the reservoir, but he was already looking away.

“Paint!” I called into the phone. “Tell him he’s got to!”

“He wants to turn back!” Paint cried.

“Wait!” This was a dumb idea, but I’d had worse. “Paint, tell him you double dog dare him to do it.”

“What?”

“Human thing. If he doesn’t, he’s a coward. Use those exact words: you double dog dare him.”

Paint didn’t answer me, lowering the phone and jabbing a finger at Captain Parker. I could just make out her words over the water.

“I double dog dare you to do it! If you don’t, you’re a coward!”

He gaped at her for a moment while his crew burst into laughter. Ruby clapped him on the shoulder. A smaller man waggled his fingers like he was offering to hold the captain’s jacket. Captain Parker looked up at me, arms spread in a clear WTF.

I held the awning back and pointed emphatically downward.

Water rushed faster out of that new crack. People were laughing below. Paint repeated the phrase like an incantation.

And Captain Parker took off his jacket, handing it to the other man.

“Yes!” I breathed in relief, leaning harder against the metal. It really wanted to fold back down. But the captain would need light to see.

In moments he’d left his jacket, shoes, and pocket valuables with the crew, and was striding forward, shaking his head. Ruby aimed her flashlight at the door, though it was pretty visible now. I pocketed my phone and crossed my fingers. With a worried glance, I sent strengthening thoughts toward the dam.

Captain Parker stuck a foot in, swore loudly, then cannonballed directly into the deep end to the approving whoops of his crew. He surfaced, gasping at the cold, then took a few good breaths and submerged, going straight for the door.

The catch didn’t turn easily. Of course it didn’t. Why would any of this be easy? I watched him struggle with it, flicking my eyes back toward the straining reservoir. Water was starting to spill over the side. The big crack was spreading.

Then something clunked below me, and the door grated aside, gushing water and a very cold human into the corridor beyond.

I yelled my own wahoo along with the crew, and left the awning to jolt back into place with another rain of rust while I hurried back down. One of the pipes almost jerked out of the wall while I was holding it. I jumped the rest of the way.

“Take the box!” Paint told me. Humans were rushing down the wet stairs. I took it just as a thunderous crack filled the air, and the ground shuddered.

“Run!” I said. We dashed down the stairs to the sound of rushing water. The wall I’d just been standing on sprouted dozens of leaks, creaking ominously.

There was still a bit of a puddle at the bottom, but Paint bravely dashed through it with her heat shawl held tight. I was right behind her with the box. The other humans were already climbing dry stairs on the other side.

We made it through the door just as the wall collapsed, sending water and debris slamming into the place we’d been standing moments before.

I don’t think I’ve ever climbed stairs faster. Two of the nearest humans hoisted Paint up, her small legs kicking in the air. Water splashed behind us, wetting one of my pant legs in a terrifying moment that made me think we’d all be washed away after all, but then we were out of range and still standing.

Everybody stood in an open courtyard, breathing hard and staring. The water rushed in every direction below us, filling more passageways than I’d thought it could. We’d reached an area of high ground with the reconstruction offices in view, all freshly painted and gold in the sunlight.

But only just.

“We’ll need another way back to the ship,” said Ruby.

“Good thing we left all our stuff behind.”

“Hey Captain, you can use my shirt to dry off with.”

“Mine too.”

Captain Parker looked a little paler than his skin tone was really meant for as he rubbed his hands together for warmth. “Thanks,” he managed, sounding like he was keeping his teeth from chattering by force of will.

Paint approached him and made an elaborate bow, which I’m pretty sure she got from some media about old Earth customs since that’s not the kind of thing her people do. “Well done, Captain Parker,” she declared. “Your honor is unquestionable; you are not a dog this day.”

He smiled while the crew laughed again. “Thank you. Your challenge was well-timed.” He stripped off his wet shirt and toweled dry with someone else’s, then rolled up his pant legs instead of taking them off.

“Do you need to borrow my heat shawl?” Paint asked tentatively.

Captain Parker frowned, shivering violently. “You’re coldblooded. Don’t you need it?”

“I’ll be okay,” Paint assured him. “You need it more right now. The air isn’t as bad as that water.”

“You’re not wrong.” He accepted it when she handed it to him, settling it over his shoulders with a deep sigh of relief.

When Paint met my eyes, I gave her a smile of approval, and she beamed. Crew members were busy making calls: to their ship, to their local contact, and who knew where else. It occurred to me that we should do the same.

Paint told me, “Everyone’s going to want to hear about this. And you’ll have to explain the details of the double dog thing; I’d never heard of that before.”

I shrugged one shoulder, still holding the box. “It’s not a big deal. More of a kid thing, honestly. I’m sure there are lots of cultures with similar stuff.”

“Not mine,” she said thoughtfully. “Blip and Blop would probably appreciate it. And Trrili would probably appreciate it too much.”

“Oh man, Trrili would be an unholy menace.” I thought of our most frightening crewmate’s love of scaring people. “Let’s not tell her about double dares.”

When the captain had his shoes back on and his jacket thrown over the heat shawl, we all moved on toward the reconstruction office, leaving a trail of water droplets and honor in our wake.

~~~

Captain Parker and co made their other appearance in this story.

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

They're shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include some characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[todayontumblr]

Monday, October 2.

All Things Go Festival.

All things go, if you must get philosophical about it. All things must pass, in the words of the Buddhist maxim. This is none more true of the summer, as warmth and sun give way to these chilly weeks, these spookiest of seasons. But the end of summer needn't mean the end of the festival season, so @allthingsgofestival went and did just that: they hosted a music festival. Just this weekend. In both September and October. It was full of female performers. It was queer as hell. Totally bonkers. It scarcely seems possible. It defies belief.

Well, believe it, and believe it well: all things must pass, and all things will. You, I, sunlight, suffering, the online wastelands themselves. But before they do, why not enjoy a good thing while it's there and get the likes of @lanadelrey, @mothercain, @listentomaggie, and @alvvaysto in one space for a weekend of live music? The place being the Merriweather Post Pavilion in Columbia, Maryland, and the place being @allthingsgofestival. We were there. It was the very best of things. And we have some highlights for you—such as this image, one of many, of Lana Del Rey lyrics that decorated backstage. 

[i-do-a-little-drawing]

Yep, Marx gives a baguette 🥖! Not sure why on that one tbh

Bronto Burts and birdon all give cooked chickens🍗

Gabon (the skull guy who throws bones) always gives baby bottles 🍼

Magolor does give a plate of two fried eggs 🍳(Thankyou @arancia-con-un-coltello !) love that for him

Bonkers gives bananas 🍌

Chef Kawasaki gives omurice (no emoji :[ )

Regular meta knight also gives a cup of black coffee ☕️

Driblee gives a carton of milk 🥛

Chilly gives a popsicle! Or ice lolly etc.

Please add on, and I will update with more !

Something I noticed in Kirby star allies:

When using chef ability or chef Kawasaki, the different characters that go in the soup give different foods!

Susie gives some sort of pink icecream sorbet 🍨 (in reference to the manga I believe!)

Dark meta knight gives a cup of black coffee ☕️

Taranza gives a cantaloupe 🍈 or some other melon because it has a spiderweb effect on it I think?

DeDeDe gives a whole cooked chicken/turkey (bro??????§)

Has anyone else noticed this?? I noticed when I had 3 dark metas and they all gave black coffee! I’m not sure if it works with non-dream friends but please let me know!

[hyog-blog]

The Story of Pearl Girl (ep. 16)

Okay, we have seriously entered the fluff zone here. So much so that I'm already bracing myself for what's going to come next XD Never ever believe a sweet romantic candy relationship period in a cdrama - as a rule, it will come and bite your bums hard later in the series.

But for now, I just can't with these two :3 I know that the transition from boss/subordinate to a romantic fling might be too fast, but I'm letting it slide just because they're sooooo sweet together. It's like drinking a marshmallow cocoa on a chilly autumn day, guys.

Yan Zijing is all smiley and lovey-dovey, Duan Wu can't look anywhere but at him. This is exactly what happens when you fall hard for someone (well, when it's mutual). I've watched the scene at the market a few times - it's just oozing cuteness.

Well, they have been through a lot together. Seeing your future hubby the man you really like all poisoned and chained inside a mine can do things to a girl. And she seems to be straightforward in everything she does, so Duan Wu told YZJ she'd be protecting him from now on XD Made him promise not to risk his life anymore. Actually, I love this girl-protecting-her-boo trope. Especially when it's Liu Yuning we're talking about, with his height and gorgeous looks XD

God bless Yan Zijin's makeup)) Magnetic eye-stare, while Duan Wu is realizing she doesn't want to see this man get hurt, not on her watch.

She goes for the hug. At this point, they both realize the feeling is mutual. It does feel natural tbh.

Yan Zijing gently hugs her back and presses to himself :3 Cuteness overload, hearts are flying everywhere, the audience goes totally ~awwwww

And then there's Kang Ju XD The embodiment of the whole fandom, just standing there and staring at them because he 'accidentally' entered the room (the door was open, ya know?)

After this, things went bonkers and now the whole team knows they're kinda sorta into each other and the two pf them even had a coming out as couple (yes, just like that). Makes me wonder about the 17 ep, and I'm gonna watch it now, so fearless I am XD

But to tell you the truth, it would be refreshing just to watch them grow closer and become a power couple in the second half of the show. Maybe have kids and grow old together. Is it just me wanting a full-on happy relationship show? XD I guess so, ah)))

[corvuserpens]

A Girl, An Ocean {A Black Sails fanfic} - Ch. 6

Fandom: Black Sails Rating: Teen and up audiences Warnings: None Characters: Billy Bones, Hal Gates, James Flint, Jean DuBois, Mr. Logan, Mr. Muldoon, protagonist OC, supporting OCs Relationships: Billy Bones/OC, Hal Gates/OC (paternal), Jean duBois/OC (bffs) Additional tags: Original character-centric, first person POV, canon character x original character romance, self-discovery journey, kinda alternative prequel to canon, canon compliant, slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers, tooth-rotting sweetness, cute but also sexy, angst galore, found family, Hal Gates has two children now, canon typical violence Series: Part One of Six of A Girl, An Ocean Chapters: 6/13 Summary: At last, the crew arrives in Nassau and Constance gets to see it for the very first time. However, the experience is somewhat spoiled when the crew is called for one of the most dangerous and tedious labors a pirate must endure: careening.

Author's note: Originally, I had a particularly dramatic scene in this chapter written in a completely different way, and then I realized it was completely bonkers because of physics and had to change it 😅No matter. I ended up enjoying this version far better.

Chapter vi.

About a week later, we finally made landfall.

It was a foggy morning, as so often seemed to be the case. The sun had just begun its traverse through the sky, struggling to peek through the thick veil of mist, which rendered the sky a milky tone of white. The sea was calm, with small peaks of foam dotting her vast expanse here and there, whilst the Walrus' keel cut through them like scissors on silk.

At the helm, Mr. de Groot informed me that the island should be within sight any time, now. He gave me leave of my lessons to go climb the shrouds and search for it, even lent his spyglass so I could scan the horizon.

My heart pounded with anticipation. Despite the chilly breeze propelling us forward, my blood ran hot in my veins. Many were the stories I had heard of New Providence Island, each more terrifying than the last, so embellished and impregnated with legend that it became blanketed with an aura of myth. From England, it seemed so distant, so far away from my own perception that one could almost be forgiven for believing it didn't even exist.

But now... Now, I was about to see it with my own eyes.

As the hours passed, the mist dispersed. Sunlight forced its way through the wisps of cloud in bright beams, making the water glitter like jewels. Sea birds followed our sails with great cries, our very own welcoming committee. I noted that the usual smells of the sea were beginning to mingle with something else – wood smoke, tar, spices. Smells from land. I swerved the spyglass around more avidly, searching... searching...

And then... I saw it.

Nassau.

With a gasp, I scurried down the shrouds and ran along the railings, toward the bow. I gave poor Mr. Folsom a scare; he nearly choked on the apple he was eating.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” He yelled. “What's the damn rush??”

But I didn't stop to reply. My whole body was crackling with energy. Using my recently developed agility, I hopped onto the forecastle, past the rails and crawled along the bowsprit on all fours until I could grab onto the ropes connecting the sails to the foremast. I was risking a fall that would most certainly get me trampled by the ship's unstoppable hull, all so I could take a closer look.

Behind me, I heard dispersed laughter from the morning watch, no doubt amused at my childish excitement. It would be at least one more hour until we entered the bay and dropped anchor, but I didn't want to miss a single detail of that moment. I sat and straddled the bowsprit the whole while it took for the Walrus to approach.

Slowly, the featureless line of brown and green became more discernible. The first thing I noticed was the fort: a stone structure sitting on top of a tall hill, the sentry that would protect the town and its denizens from invasion by sea. Those smells I'd sensed so faintly, earlier, became stronger. At last, the settlement itself came into full view.

Nassau Town was unlike any place I had ever seen before. Here, there were no grand monuments of granite and marble - instead, tents and rickety wood structures dotted the white sand beaches. From a distance, the people were no more than ants scurrying about, and although I couldn't distinguish any of them individually, I could hear them. The racket coming from land was a constant droning of countless voices mixed with music played from de-tuned, old instruments.

And the smells... Spices and tar, but also roasting meats and drying fish, cracked and stale wood, freshly pressed sails, obnoxious perfumes, human bodies, all of them combined into a single odor that belonged only to Nassau. In the years that followed, and after countless adventures lived, I found that there was nowhere else in the world that smelled the same. It smelled like decadence and depravity. It smelled like home.

I could hardly wait to get on a launch and explore it.

However, my plans of running around town and soak it all in were about to get cut short. The anchors had barely gotten wet when Mr. Gates' voice thundered across the deck: "Listen up, you band of lubbers! Before you rush off toward the brothel, let it be known that you are all to report for the careening by eight bells to beach the old girl." A wave of groans followed these words. Since I had no idea what careening was, I turned to Logan with a furrowed brow. "He means bring the ship ashore to clear the hull of marine growth," he explained dejectedly. "Takes a long fucking time and it's rough work."

"Now, I know that's not what you want to hear," Gates conceded. "But you know as well as I that a proper and regular cleaning makes all the difference when we're on the hunt. It means a swifter, faster ship, which leads to better hauls and more gold lining your pockets that you can then piss away in a day or two with women and booze." That got a roiling cackle out of the men. Once again, just like that, Mr. Gates was able to shift the mood from a resisting force into something constructive. Whether the credit for it lied with the quartermaster's talent to mold people's minds at will, or the prospect of even more gold, prostitutes and rum, was hard to say.

The crew went out by order of seniority, which meant that, as the most recent recruit, I was stuck at the very back of the line. I paced around the deck like a woman possessed, pestering everyone with questions, crawling up and down the masts, making sure I had everything I needed to bring with me to land (which wasn't much, anyway). It was only half an hour, no more than that, that I had to wait, but it felt like an eternity.

Either way, before long I was in the water with the other newbies, including Jean, and we rowed together to shore. The closer we got, the more my senses were overwhelmed by the chaos of it all. Wherever I looked, there was something happening, something worth paying attention to, something disgusting that made me gag, something that filled me with wonder. I must have looked like a child in Christmas, surrounded by all that novelty, incapable of choosing a single thing to unravel and inspect furthest.

Next to me, Jean sniggered. "Your head is like a banner in the wind. You best be careful not to snap your neck!" I smiled from ear to ear. "I know, it's just... There is just so... Everything is so much, you know? I've never seen anything like it."

"Oui, I know. You never forget your first time in Nassau." Jean let out a wistful sigh, recalling his own experience with a nostalgic smile. In a matter of minutes, our group was on the jetty and spread through town. The sheer amount of goings-on was dizzying; I scarcely knew where to turn! Thankfully, I had Jean there to ground me and keep me from getting lost. He led me through the confusion of bodies, tents and objects of every kind like a veteran.

Once we found ourselves right at the center of it all, he stopped and turned to me. "So. Where would you like to start?" "Oh, Jesus, I don't know..." I spun around slowly for a moment, overwhelmed and at a loss. Not a minute ago, the jetty was behind us, but now it was nowhere in sight. I was irreparably turned around. "Where do you normally go?"

Just then, Muldoon and Logan emerged from the confusion and stood by my side. They traded a cheeky look that immediately made me regret asking anything. "Of course," I sighed with a shrug. "Stupid question." "Yeah, you really set yourself up for that one, didn't ya?" Logan snorted. "THAT may be a little too much for your Ladyship's sensibilities," Muldoon joked. "Fuck you," I snapped back. God forgive me, I was getting far too comfortable with profanities.

He patted my shoulder and nodded for us to follow him. "Let's start with the tavern and we'll go from there. C'mon." The tavern, as it turned out, was like a microcosm of the street: loud, bustling, ever-shifting. The only difference was that it was much more cramped - we literally had to shove people out of the way to even get to the bar. And it was stuffy in there. The weather in and of itself was hot enough, in the Bahamas; couple that with the human heat and the smell of sweat in that room and suddenly one knew exactly what a pod corn felt like boiling in a pot.

Still, it wasn't entirely unpleasant. People laughed and drank and played cards, or told each other about their latest conquests or traded gossip. The wooden furniture and open windows with their hand knitted off-white curtains blowing in the lazy breeze made the space feel cozy, almost homey, especially as the servants passed through the narrow space with trays full of steaming food.

When we finally reached the bar, Logan ordered lunch for us while Muldoon, Jean and I found a table. We ended up having to share it with a group of four already occupying most of it, but from the way my shipmates greeted them loudly, it was evident they were already acquainted. Muldoon didn't even have to ask; they invited us to sit instantly, shuffling around to make room for our group.

At first, I felt somewhat like an intruder, but the man sitting at my right, a burly one with arms thrice the width of mine and a bushy greying beard, offered me a tankard of ale with a warm smile, like we knew each other for decades. In a matter of seconds, I felt myself relax, for something in my gut told me I could trust him, that he meant no harm. I accepted the ale and took a swig to quench my parched throat. Although bitter, it was cool and satisfying in that intense heat.

The man patted my back with a laugh, and even if I almost choked from how hard he hit me, I joined in on his contagious laugh. I had never felt so accepted among strangers, so welcomed.

"That there is Hammer," Muldoon told me. "So named because he's good at using a hammer, whether to build or to crack a skull open, but mostly because he likes nothing more than to get hammered." A burst of cackles rattled the table. Hammer, not one bit offended at the jab, offered me his meaty hand, which I was going to shake, until he leaned down and placed the gentlest kiss on my knuckles. "A pleasure, m'lady." It was such an honest gesture, genuinely sweet and unassuming, that I had to giggle through a blush. At least he had manners, unlike some other pirates I knew.

"Nice to meet you, Hammer. I'm Constance."

Jean tapped my arm. “Look, over there. Here comes the Pirate Queen.”

I stretched my neck to see whom he was pointing at.

From the back of the room, a petite blonde lady crossed the tavern with the haughty gait of nobility. What she lacked in stature, she made up for it in poise; while she passed by our table like we weren't even there, she struck me as much taller based on her confidence alone. Men twice her size hurried out of her path and greeted her with utmost respect.

Long skirts covered her legs and her hair was done up in complex coils, but from the waist up she wore a vest over her blouse and a cravat, like a man. I couldn't help to notice how beautiful she was.

“Who is that?” I inquired after she was gone.

“Eleanor Guthrie,” Logan answered. “She's the boss, around here. Her father used to be in charge, but after the Rosario raids, he fucked off to Harbour Island and she took his place. All trade on the island goes through her. It's thanks to her that we get to earn a living stealing off of rich merchant ships.”

“How does she do that?”

“We come in with our cargo, she stamps the Guthrie name on it and sells it to the colonies as if it were legitimately obtained.”

“It's the worst kept secret in the Bahamas, so I'm told,” Jean muttered. “But while Mr. Guthrie lines the pockets of the governors, the magistrates, the colonels and every other navy officer in on it, they won't lift a finger to accuse him. Everyone gets a piece of the cake, so to speak, and that's how we stay in business.”

I arched my eyebrows in incredulity. So that was the real issue with Nassau and her pirate scourge. It wasn't the pirates themselves; it was the corruption. And for as long as that corruption remained out of reach of the gavels in Whitehall... The problem would continue unresolved.

And now, I had become part of that problem.

I smirked to myself and drank some more ale. I once heard Folsom say something like, one man's trash is another man's treasure. In this case, one nation's problem was another woman's solution.

My solution.

I prayed that the corruption ran rampant in Nassau for many centuries to come.

*** After filling our bellies with roast pork, potatoes and a generous but not exaggerated amount of grog, our party returned to the beach to board the Walrus and steer her to a careenage - the steep beach we would use for the endeavor of beaching our ship. Normally, the maintenance of the hull and keel was made on a dry dock, but there wasn't one in Nassau, so we had to do it the hard way.

The way Logan explained the process of what we would be doing was something like this: during the high tide, our longboats would row in the Walrus until the keel touched the sand. Next, those on land would pull her further in. The ship would then be tilted at an angle on her side and the masts tied down to trees or whatever else was rooted firmly to the ground. Lastly, during the low tide, we could clear the hull of seaweed and barnacles with scoops. When one side was done, we would bring her back into the water, turn her around, and repeat the process. When both sides were done, she would be ready to sail again.

Careening could take anywhere between a few days to weeks. Everything that wasn't bolted down to the ship needed to be brought out, guns included (which we could use as anchor points in the absence of trees). What could be repaired would be brought to town; everything else was disposed of. The more Logan elaborated on the whole exercise, the least I looked forward to it.

When we arrived at the careenage, the longboats were already taking advantage of the tides to bring in the Walrus and a small crowd waited in the shade, while others bathed themselves in the sea to cool off.

Somewhere to the side, a tent was being erected. I noticed a small flock of scantly clad women sat near it, fanning themselves and fluttering their long lashes at any sailor who passed by. As we dropped on the cold sand beneath a palm tree, I felt an uncomfortable tightness in my stomach.

"Muldoon?” I said. “Who are those women?" He twisted around to look over his shoulder and gave me a shark-like grin. "Never you mind that. You probably wouldn't be interested, anyway."

I arched an inquisitive brow at him. "Interested...?" "You don't know that." Logan gave the other a playful shove. "Maybe she is into it and just doesn't know it yet. Don't knock it 'till you've tried it." "Oh, so you admit you've tried it with a bloke before?" Muldoon chortled. "I knew you were secretly queer, you bastard!" "No, I didn't say that!" Another shove, this one harsher than before, though it only made Muldoon laugh louder. "You know I only have eyes for Charlotte. In my case, I don't need to try it to know I won't enjoy it. A man knows these things." I turned to Jean while those two bickered. His face was flushed red, but I assumed it was from the heat, nothing more. Still, he was unusually quiet. "What the fuck are they talking about? And who's Charlotte?" He cleared his throat and refused to look at me whilst he scratched the back of his head. "Um... Well, you see, those women? They were hired from the brothel. Charlotte is... well..."

"A prostitute." Muldoon stated, plain and simple. "That there, is what we in the industry call a fuck tent." Now I was the one with a burning face. My mouth hung open in shock as I stared first at him, then at Logan (who winked and wagged his brows suggestively) and finally at Jean, who could do no more than glance sideways in my direction.

I had never heard of such a thing. It was scandalous! And yet... I was not at all surprised. Of course pirates would have something called a fuck tent.

"Oh." I huffed.

To their credit, Logan and Muldoon stifled back the need to laugh at my ignorance and lady-like mannerisms. "I suppose we don't need to explain what it's for, do we?" I shook my head. "No, thank you."

An hour latter, the Walrus was ready to be hauled ashore. Billy Bones divided us into lines across the beach so we were ready to receive the cables tossed to us from the ship. I was placed along the foremast, somewhere in the middle, between Logan, behind me, and Jean, at the front.

After verifying that everyone was in position, Billy joined the line at my left and wrapped his hands around the tether. "Aright, everyone ready?" He shouted.

In response, the crew gave a loud and unison 'Aye!'

"That's what I like to hear. On my mark!... Two, six--" "Heave!"

As one, we pulled on the cables. The sand shifted beneath my feet and I almost stumbled, but managed to remain firmly on them while tugging. Although the effort was great, since it was well distributed I found no difficulty to it. Not at first, at least. In a steady, continuous rhythm, Billy barked: "Two, six--!" "Heave!" Another strong tug. "Two, six--" "Heave!!" I screamed as loud as my voice and lungs permitted. Surprisingly, it did help make the exercise easier.

"Steady!" Billy adjusted his grip. His arms bulged with each pull, making the rolled up sleeves of his shirt strain under the stress.

Quickly, I turned my attention back to my task.

"Slow and steady!” He repeated. “Don't tire yourselves out!"

"C'mon boys, put your backs into it!" From the mizzen mast lines, Mr. de Groot's roughen voice reached my ears, encouraging the men.

For every pull and every step, the Walrus crept up the beach, a hulking beast that towered over the crew, ready to devour us. As I looked up at her massive hull and far-reaching masts, I felt tiny and insignificant before such a marvel of wood and rigging. "Oh, wow..." I swooned, awestruck. "Constance!" Billy called. "Get back to work!"

With a startle, I realized my grip had gone slack with my distraction.

"Sorry!" I scrambled to get back into the rhythm.

For God knew how long, we persisted on this almost Sisyphean task until the Walrus could go no further up the beach and our bodies could take no more. The job in itself wasn't so bad - it was the unrelenting sun and the heat. Swear dripped down my chest, my forehead, my back... everywhere, really! It got in my eyes and made them sting. My skin was so hot, I was about ready to rip it out with my own fingernails.

"Hold!" Billy commanded.

We pinned the balls of our feet into the sand and held the ropes in place.

I gripped my share with both hands close together, which strained my shoulders and back to the breaking point. With gritted teeth, I prayed the riggers would be quick with the lashes so I could finally let go.

"Psst! Constance!"

I looked back to Logan, who held on in a completely different posture. So did everyone else, in fact.

"Like this." He twisted his body to the side, just enough for me to see what he was doing. His feet were spread evenly apart, one in front, the other back. Likewise, he maintained his right hand in front of him, but the left was tucked close to his side, to keep the rope over his hip in a subtle angle.

As fast as I dared, I adjusted my pose to match his. Immediately, my muscles sighed in relief, while the cable remained secure. "Like this?"

"Just like that." He grinned with approval. "Feels better, doesn't it?"

"Much," I agreed, smiling back. "Thanks."

Fortunately, the riggers worked the ropes fast and swift, so we didn't have to wait much longer. Billy oversaw their task from his position while practically hanging off the cable like my uncle Charles' pet Capuchin, using his sheer weight to keep it taunt.

He whistled to get their attention. "All good, there?"

“We're good!” I heard Folsom confirm.

"Everyone! Release her, slowly! Slowly..."

Little by little, we let the tethers loose and hoped the anchor points would hold. I felt the hemp coils gently slip from my grasp, chafing my skin, and then it stopped. Up on high, the masts groaned in protest for a few seconds, and finally went quiet.

Still, for safety, we kept our fingers wrapped on the cables for another minute. Apart from the wind on the palm fronds and the lull of the waves, an eerie silence hung heavy on the beach.

When nothing happened, we collectively breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good job, lads." Billy said, signalling for us to let go and relax.

I massaged my back with a drawn out breath, then my thighs. I wasn't the only one; most of the crew complained from their arms and legs. Some simply let themselves flop on the sand like flounders. I myself felt tempted to do the same, but somehow managed to stay upright.

I'm gonna be so stiff, come morning, I groaned internally. And we still had to take care of the barnacles. Lord have mercy.

As I straightened up, I saw Billy walking among his mates to check if everyone was alright.

"Take a break while I divide the shifts," he said, just as he ducked under the cable at my left and passed our line by, one man at a time. When he reached me, he gave my shoulder a gentle touch and arched his eyebrows in a mute inquiry for my well-being. I nodded to let him know I was fine and he moved on. I turned to watch as he and Logan clasped their hands in a brotherly exchange and kept going, further and further away from me.

For some reason... I felt appreciated by that quick, yet meaningful pause to make sure I wasn't hurt. So did the others, I imagined. No wonder he was so loved by everyone. Frankly, he made it easy to like him.

"Thirty minutes, no more!” He warned once he reached the last man on our file. “Let's see..."

All around me, the crew began to dispose of their vests and shirts, unceremoniously. I could hardly blame them - their clothes were drenched with sweat and their faces were red from the effort, the heat and the booze they had likely consumed before presenting themselves for duty.

My borrowed shift was all humid as well. The way it stuck to my skin was so very uncomfortable, even as I pulled it away from my torso.

I followed Logan and Jean toward the water barrels for a much needed drink and saw they too had their backs bared to the sun.

"I wish I could do that," I hummed.

Logan snickered. "I mean, you could, if you really wanted to. No rules against it, here. It's not like none of us have never seen breasts before." The heavy layer of hope in his tone didn't go unnoticed.

"Dream on," I bit back while I poured a cup of fresh water. The feeling of it down my dry throat was like a balm on a burn, instantly relieving it. As soon as the cup was empty, I scooped up another.

"Suit yourself," he shrugged, then moved off to go find some shade.

Jean smiled timidly at me, then cupped his hands in the barrel to drench his face and neck. Once he was cool and satisfied, he sighed and leaned with his hands on it.

“Want to go dip our feet in the sea?” He offered.

“Hmm, let's.”

We went down the beach and walked out until the waves lapped at our ankles, close to the knee. Just our luck, a drooping palm tree had taken root near the water line, the perfect shelter from the sun.

I closed my eyes as we stood beneath its wide fronds. I don't know how long we stood there, just listening to the ocean and drinking water, but honestly? I could have stayed there in silence with my friend until nightfall.

“Feels nice, doesn't it?” He murmured.

I peeked from one eye. He had his closed, too, plus his hands tucked in the pockets of his trousers. I shut both lids again and smiled. “It does. One of these days, we should come back during down time and just sit right here.”

“There's a great idea,” he chuckled. “We bring something to eat, some good ale, proper attire to go for a swim, if we want. Mon Dieu... I would want for nothing else.”

On that, I completely concurred. The soft breeze blew my hair to the side and brushed my neck deliciously. I pulled it out of my shoulders, pinned it down on top of my head and almost moaned. I could sense the excessive heat pour out of my body and it felt so fucking good.

Unfortunately, duty called. And it sounded just like Billy Bones.

"Gather 'round, you bunch of lazy bums! Gather 'round for the shifts.”

A chorus of groans followed his call.

“C'mon, you've had your rest, now get over here."

Sighing, I finished my water and prepared to go back to work.

However, when I turned around on my feet, I got my first good look at the ship's hull and felt my heart drop to the ground: it wasn't wood colored, like it was supposed to - it was white with barnacles!

How the fuck were we supposed to remove all that? It seemed impossible!

Jean, who was a couple of paces ahead of me, stopped, looked over his shoulder when he realized I had stayed behind and burst into laughter. My face of terror must have seemed hilarious to him.

“Considering making a run for it?” He jested.

In response, all I did was stare at him slack-jawed. He laughed some more and kept going.

Oh God, oh sweet baby Jesus, please let me have the second shift.

I stopped at the edge of the gathering crowd and crossed my fingers. Billy read aloud from the list he'd made.

"First shift: Abel. Bobby. Burns. Craig. Constance..."

Fuck. So much for my adoration for Billy.

With slumped shoulders and a resigned heart, I joined the growing line of unlucky bastards who would get to start scrapping barnacles until six bells.

*** "You're sure this is necessary?" I asked Folsom at around four bells.

For the better part of the afternoon, I had been breaking my nails and covering my hands in bloody gashes by prying the blasted barnacles from the port side of the keel. Half of our team worked on the ground or even under the hull, while the other was on scaffolds and hung from suspended planks to do the upper part of the ship.

We would take breaks once in a while for about thirty minutes each. Once again, being the newest addition, I was last to get my turn. Obviously.

When it finally came, I drank at least three cups of water before I flopped on my back under the extensive shade of the ship. It felt so nice, I almost fell asleep... Until someone tapped my leg.

Folsom was grinning down at me with his near-toothless mouth when I cracked my eyes open. Behind him stood Muldoon and Logan, both also smirking like they shared a secret. They were there to tell me my break was over and it was time to go back to work, except instead of leading me to the hull, they made me climb a net that hung from the rails, then the shroud, all the way to the mast. Folsom accompanied me and brought a coil of rope wrapped around his torso. The excuse they gave me to get up there was that the main sail footrope needed replacement, but it made no sense. Tilted at that steep angle, it seemed impossible. Still, given that they were all far more experienced than I and how eager I was to impress them, I followed along.

And so, there we were, hanging several hundred feet off the ground.

"Aye, quite necessary," he assured me. "You don't want the rope snapping while one of us is on it, do you?" "Sure, but why don't we do it when the ship is upright?" I questioned whilst crawling over the platform's aperture around the mast to get to the footrope in question. "This feels dangerous."

I went quiet to focus on not falling to my death. Folsom didn't reply. After I found a good position straddling the mast, I turned - and caught him shimmying down the rope he had brought along while stifling a snort. On the ground, far, far below me, the rest of my shift looked up with big smiles as they urged him down. "Oy!" I called. "Where the hell are you going?!" "Why, off for a quick fuck and a tankard of ale!" Folsom cackled. "Wait--" I looked around, suddenly realizing that I had no idea how to get out from my position without help. My heart burst into a mad rhythm. "How am I supposed to get down??"

"Oh, don't worry, love!" I heard Muldoon cackled. "We'll come back to get you in no time!... As soon as we're done, of course!" "Folsom!!" I bellowed at the top of my lungs, equal parts furious and scared out of my wits. "Folsom, you get back up here right now or so help me God!!!"

"Hazing's not over yet, newbie!" He laughed. When he reached firm ground, he gave the rope a tug and I watched in utter horror as the knot he'd tied broke up and the line fell at his feet. "Hang in there, Constance!" Logan joked. Then, they all turned around and walked away to our camp, leaving me trapped on the mast.

Oh, I was SO going to knock the rest of Folsom's teeth out. With an oar! And chase the rest of them out of town for a fortnight! Bloody... pirates!! Shit, I was so high up. I could see the town, a few miles from where we were. I could also see the fort and a good stretch of the jungles toward the interior. So, the view was nice.

But the heat... the heat was unbearable.

With my sleeve, I wiped the thick layer of sweat from my forehead and tried to ignore the feeling of boiling alive from the inside out. Summer was almost upon us, which meant the sun wouldn't go down for at least another three or four hours. And God only knew how long those bastards would take coming back. "Fuck..." I bent my body forward so I could rest my forehead on the mast. It was growing weak from the labor and the sweltering temperatures. How long had I been perching there...? A minute? Ten? An hour? Whatever water I had taken during my break was long gone, poured right out of my skin, and now a mad thirst gripped my throat. If I stayed up there much longer, I was sure to faint and drop. I would most certainly die.

Somehow, I had to find a way out of that mast.

I glanced behind me, at the platform. The shrouds were well within my reach. If I could shuffle backwards and crawl through again, I could climb down to safety. I just had to keep telling myself it wasn't so hard.

Besides... I could just imagine the look on those morons' faces when I found them and slapped them all across the face, one by one. The thought put a frail smile on my lips. They were going to pay dearly for this prank, oh yes, they were.

Slowly, I started pushing back along the mast, squeezing with my thighs to stay upright. I was so tired, I could barely breathe. My brain was sluggish, like it was about to melt out of my ears. Just another few centimeters... a few more... I reached the platform. As cautiously as I could, I swiped one leg over the mast, then the other, reached out to hold onto the edge of the passage that would lead to the shrouds-- A wave of dizziness robbed me of my balance. My bloodied fingers scrapped the wood and dropped into nothing. Then, my whole body slipped from the mast and suddenly there was nothing separating me from the ground. My heart stopped. I opened my mouth to scream. My hand hooked onto something -- the footrope.

Quickly, I snapped my free arm up and held on for dear life while I swung lazily back and forth.

"Oh dear..." I whispered to myself. Out of some stupid instinct, I took a peek down and immediately regretted it. I was too far high. If I fell, I would break every bone in my body. My flesh would become a gelatinous mess on the beach.

A wave of nausea punched my stomach at the thought.

"Help... Someone..." Fuck, I was scared, almost too scared to raise my voice. “Helloooo...? Help..."

This was it. I was going to die. My little adventure was over before it truly began and it was all over a stupid joke, I couldn't believe it...!

I shut my eyes tight and tried to calm my racing mind. This couldn't be it. This couldn't be how my story ended. I had to fight, just as I'd done with Cutthroat Fred. I kicked my feet to build momentum and try to find purchase on the platform, but my legs had gone numb and my arms were too used up from the day's work. There was no way I could pull myself up.

The crew was in the camp, very close by. I could hear them conversing and shouting at each other, singing shanties, playing music. If I could just scream, someone was bound to hear me. So I sucked in a shaky breath and cried: "Help! Help! Somebody! Heeeeelp!!!"

I could feel my sweaty hands starting to slip. My arms went into spasms, stretched to their limit. It was a matter of time before I fell. I tried to scream louder. "Somebody, please, help me!!" For a short moment, all chatter came to a stop. Then, someone shouted in alarm and a commotion followed, of men calling out for rope, for a net, telling me to hold on, that help was coming.

Above all others, I heard Billy's thunderous roar telling them to get out of the way. I risked another glance down. He hadn't wasted a second; he crawled up the net, ran over the railing on light feet, then up the shroud. In less than a minute, he was at the platform. “Hold on, Constance!" He urged me. "Hold on just a little longer! I'm coming to get you.” My palms chafed against the hemp. “Please, hurry!”

No sooner had the words left my mouth, one of my hands finally gave out. My panicked cry mingled with those of the men on the beach. My fingers trembled on the rope as they lost their strength.

“Fuck! Fuck, Billy, I'm slipping!”

“Almost there!” He passed through the platform, balanced his enormous body on the mast and snatched my wrist at the exact moment I lost my grip on the footrope with a scream. Time stood still. Wide eyed, I stared down at the ground, at the indiscernible faces of the Walrus' men while they held their breaths and brought their hands to their heads. But they stayed where they were. They didn't rush up to me.

Stunned, I slowly let my head fall back. Billy's hand gripped my arm so tight, my fingers had turned purple. He returned my look of shock with his own, like he could scarcely believe he had reached me in time.

“I got you," he puffed. "I got you."

With my breath caught in my lungs, I stared up at his face, red and drenched from his efforts. I could hardly believe I was still alive, too.

"Billy..." He took in a breath, gritted his teeth and heaved me up.

The second I was within reach, I hooked my arm onto the mast and clambered up with his help. He fell back on the platform and held me to him, breathing laboriously, while I buried my nose on the crease of his neck and clung onto his shirt like a child did to their parent after a nightmare.

“It's alright.” His voice was quiet and soothing, not at all judgemental, even as I trembled and sobbed into his skin. One of his hands smoothed down my hair in slow sweeps, over and over, which helped settle my nerves, if only a little. “It's alright. You're safe.”

My teeth chattered too much for me to respond, but I was so grateful for him. So grateful. To my shame, hot tears prickled my eyes and ran down my cheeks, staining his shirt. I hoped no one would notice – especially not him.

After a few minutes of this, I finally found my courage, dried my eyes and pulled away. Billy gave me a once over to assess my state and make sure I wasn't hurt. "You all right?" "Y-yes..."

Through the haze of panic, I realized we were much too close. I was practically on top of him. Yet, there was no room for me to put distance between us, so I remained where I was, though I at least moved my hands from his chest to the platform behind him.

"Good..." He cracked a smile and pushed a loose piece of hair behind my ear. "Feeling brave enough to go back down?"

I took a look over my shoulder, saw the thirty or so men below, as small as toy soldiers, and got this strange impression that the ground was rushing further away from me. With a gasp, I shut my eyes tight and shook my head. "That's fine, don't worry." He touched my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "We can just sit here for a bit until you're ready, yeah?" I nodded, did my best to focus on my breathing so I could clear my head. How were we going to get out of that predicament? We were too far high, there was barely anything to grab onto, no space for maneuvering. It was impossible.

Against my best efforts, my breath became shallow. My throat clogged up with a new wave of sobs that tried to force their way out. Fuck me, I was going to start crying again, right in front of Billy. Pathetic. Girly. Weak.

"Do you have any siblings?" I snapped my eyes open. For an instant, I forgot all about our current situation. "... What?" I quipped. "I asked if you have any siblings," he repeated. Calmly. Casually. Like we were sitting down for tea instead of perched hundreds of yards in the air. "Brothers? Sisters?"

"I-I do." I shook my head to get it to focus on his question. "Sisters. Five sisters." "No brothers?" Had he perhaps gone mad from the heat? I continued to stare at him with my mouth hanging open. "You want to know about this now?"

"I'm trying to distract you from the fear," he explained with a chuckle.

How was he so tranquil about everything?? Why wasn't he scared out of his mind? It was absurd!

"No brothers, then. Six girls. Tell me about them. Are they older than you? Younger?" I swallowed a lump in my throat. "I'm the third youngest." "How old is the eldest?" My gaze wandered back down.

"Constance." I returned my stare to his. "Keep your eyes on me. How old is your eldest sister?"

His brow was so tense that the skin creased in deep furrows. His eyes were an bright blue color, almost electric, blinding. They demanded my full attention. I found that I couldn't look away, even if I wanted to. "Thirty-nine," I sighed. "She's thirty-nine years old." "And the second eldest, how old is she?" "Thirty-four."

"The third eldest?" His gaze softened and, to my surprise, I felt my body start to relax. "She's thirty-two," I told him. My voice was nearly back to normal. "What about you?" He offered me a warm smile that made my stomach do a flip. "How old are you?" I managed a snort. "It's very rude to ask a lady her age."

That got his smile to widen. "Well, I figured since a I already asked about the age of three other ladies, you wouldn't mind. Besides, I'm curious." He rested his head against the platform. "I want to know." If I didn't know better, I would say he was flirting with me. My gaze dropped to the strings adorning his neck.

"I'm twenty-eight," I murmured. “I will turn twenty-nine in August." He made a little hum. "I'm twenty-eight, too." I looked up again with a stupid wide grin. "You are?" "Just turned, three months ago." "Happy belated birthday," I chuckled.

"Thank you." There was a pause then, like he was waiting for something whilst searching my face. His smile faded away. "What about your two younger sisters? How old are they?" "Twenty-one and fifteen," I replied. "Do you miss them a lot...?" My heart did a plunge. I bit my lip to stop the sorrow from getting the best of me and nodded a couple of times.

"You will see them, again." He swore. "I'm going to get you out of this mess, and you will see them again, alright? I promise." A tremulous smile pulled at the corners of my mouth. "I don't know about the second part... but if you can get me out of this mess, I would consider myself satisfied." I saw a question flash in his eyes, but whatever it was, he didn't pronounce it. Instead, he gave my shoulder another squeeze.

"Ready to go back to solid ground?"

To resist the temptation to look down, I let my eyes shut one last time and pressed my mouth into a tense line. "Not really... but let's go." "Right. Um..." I opened my eyes slowly at his hesitation. He was studying our current position to formulate our exit strategy. It wouldn't be easy; the mast was tilted at a pretty steep angle, which pushed me onto him and offered us very little space to move. His cheeks, already rosy from the heat, turned a brighter shade of red. "Aye, right. Constance... I'm going to need you to pass your leg over me, plant both feet on the platform and... lie back."

Every inch of me went still, even my brain. Especially my brain.

"I... beg your pardon?" "I-I need space to get up and climb to the other side," he stammered, no longer able to look me in the eye. "Which means you have to lie flat on the mast so you won't fall while I do that."

If my face wasn't already burning up, it would have surely combusted. He was talking about my straddling him -- as in, having him between my legs. I might have slapped him, were it not for three things:

One, there were literally no better alternatives.

Two, I liked and respected him too much.

And three, he had just saved my life. "All due respect," Billy muttered as he peered at me with utter embarrassment. "If you really want to get out of here, I'm afraid you're going to have to discard your puritanical sensibilities for a few minutes." It would be the most scandalous thing I had ever done until that moment, but I could recognize it was necessary. So, after taking a shaky breath, I started to move.

Slowly, being extra careful not to touch him, I pulled my left leg up and over his hips. He stayed perfectly still, patiently waiting while I positioned both my feet on either side of him. My face was inches from his; I could feel his shallow breath on my cheek. I licked my dry lips and began to ease myself back, but then stopped, too afraid to drop abruptly and risk falling. I flicked a glance at him. "Would you mind...? Helping me lie back..." His Adam's apple bobbed. "Sure."

He took hold of my elbows and lowered me until I was lying fully on my back with him half on top of me.

My heart was pounding in my chest. I could feel it kicking against my ribs, heard it drum in my ears. However, as I looked up at him and he down at me, lips slightly parted over his perfect teeth, it wasn't dread that I felt. At my core, a simmering sensation of heat spread up my belly and down my thighs, filled my chest with an intense longing. Desire. I was feeling desire. "You good?" He hummed, so softly I half wondered if he had spoken at all.

"Aye..." The new wave of thirst filling my mouth had nothing to do with my need to take in water. "I think so..." "Good... In that case, I'm going to let go and get a move on. Do exactly as I do, yeah? I'll wait for you on the other side and we'll climb down the shroud together." "Uh-huh..." His hands slipped away from me so he could lean on the platform again. Next, he turned on his side, grabbed onto the edges of the aperture and slid his legs through it. After he had crossed to the other side, he poked his head out. "C'mon. Remember, don't look down. Keep your eyes on me."

I took a couple of deep breaths to calm myself before I sat up and slid down the mast. I passed one leg first, then the other, going painfully slow compared to when I climbed up. I couldn't understand how I'd done it without a drop of fear, yet now struggled to hold it at bay so I could concentrate.

"That's it..." Billy encouraged me in hushed tones. "Take your time, find your footing. You're doing great, Constance."

He moved back to give me space while I passed the rest of my body through that narrow opening. Never once did I look down, nor let go of the platform. It was the only way I knew to stay calm and collected. "There you go." Billy dropped his feet onto the ratlines and grinned as he rested his arms on the mast. "See? Hard part is done. Now we just climb down, hand over foot."

Right...

I risked a brief glance down. We were still so far from the beach... That illusion of the ground sinking away from me returned, stronger this time. I immediately snapped my gaze back to Billy's, who watched me with some apprehension. "Do you need to stop?" He asked me in that casual tone, no pressure in his voice at all. I shook my head no. The sooner we reached the earth, the better. "Let's go, then. No rush, yeah? I'll match your pace."

Very carefully, I lowered myself onto the shrouds. Billy waited until I was by his side before he too started his descent, so we could go together. The whole while, he reminded me to take my time, to look at my hands, told me I was making good progress. I truly believe that, if it hadn't been for him, I never would have left that mast alive. Finally - finally! - we touched down on the rails. The crew shouted their own encouragement, urging me to keep going, that I was almost there, just a little more. I waved at them so they would know I was all right, but the truth was that, even as we were closer to the ground, it was still too high. I kept a tight grip on the ratlines and fought to contain the nausea rolling in my stomach.

About two and a half meters from me, Billy stopped and frowned. "What's wrong?" "I... I feel dizzy," I moaned. The nausea, I realized, was caused by the light-weight sensation my head was in, coupled with swimming vision and a feeling of being out of balance. I was certain that if I let go of the shrouds, I would faint and probably never wake again. Billy shuffled sideways to return to my side and held out his arm. "Take my hand. I'll help you." Struggling to control my breaths, I stared at his open palm for a second or two before taking it. However, as he started to move away, I gripped it tight and froze. When he realized I wasn't moving, he looked up and tilted his head. "What if I fall...?" I whispered. My bulging eyes clung to his desperately, but he only smiled and squeezed my fingers.

"You won't fall," he said. "I saw you sprint along the bowsprit on all fours like a damn cat. You can do this, Constance. I'm right here and I'm not leaving your side, alright? Even if this takes all night." I let his words envelop me and sighed in relief when my heart settled. We were so close to the end. The net was right there. I could make out the faces of each man below as they waved me over, promising to catch me if I slipped.

Jean was right at the front, pale as a sheet, hands cupped over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

All I had to do was let Billy guide me. Only a few dozen steps later, we reached the net. Billy didn't let go of my hand until the last moment. On wobbly legs, I descended, step by step, one hand over the other...

When I felt hands on my arms, shoulders and back, I knew it was over.

The crew – my crew – aided me down and settled me on the sand. Jean pushed his way through them to kneel at my side and lay a comforting hand on my back. Behind him, a sea of heads hovered over us, telling me to lie on my back and breathe, asking if I was injured, if I needed water, or perhaps some ale? They inquired each other as to what had happened, where was the rest of the watch, why I was up there all alone? I couldn't answer any of their questions. My head was still spinning wildly. Ironically, now that I was on the ground, safe and sound, the nausea was getting worse. I pressed my palms into my eyes and bent over. I was going to vomit any minute, could feel that tell-tale burn just under my jaw getting stronger and stronger. “Get back, you lot!" Billy commanded. "Give her room to breathe. Jean, move over.”

Callous fingers, gentle as the touch of grass, hooked around my wrists and tugged lightly on them. I resisted. "I think I'm going to be sick," I warned them.

"Put your head between your knees. It'll help."

I did so, keeping my eyes closed so the spinning would stop. My mouth watered repeatedly and at first that burn got worse, but with the passing seconds, it faded away. My stomach calmed and returned to normal. Jean rubbed gentle circles on my back while Billy held my hand in one of his. His thumb stroked my skin almost tenderly. "It's all right, Constance," he murmured. "It's over, now. Just breathe."

Jean huffed a laugh and said, in French: "You are, without a doubt, the luckiest girl I've ever met. Christ almighty." I managed a frail chuckle. "Or maybe I just have very good friends," I replied, also in his mother tongue.

At last, I was well enough to sit up straight and look at them. Billy was crouching in front of me. The sun shone bright behind him like a halo, giving him this almost angelical look. That, combined with his blue eyes, tinged with concern, his flushed tan skin and his golden hair, always cropped short, struck me in that moment as so beautiful that my breath caught in my throat. The dizziness and the fear washed away from me, replaced with a sense of peace, of... safety. I was safe. Not just from certain death, either; from everything. As long as Billy was there to watch out for me, I would always be safe. He smiled with relief as he saw I had recovered. “There we go. Good girl.”

Hesitantly, the rest of the crew closed in around us. They kept a safe distance for my sake, though they were worried and eager to take a look at me. No one spoke up above a whisper, like they were afraid to perturb me further or break the tranquility both Billy and Jean had instilled in me.

There were no words to describe what I felt for those men, all of them, as I took in each and every one of their faces. I tried many times since then, but they always fell short of how my chest sizzled, igniting with this warm feeling of belonging. More than my crew, this was my family. The one I had chosen and the one that had chosen me, in return.

One thing I do know for sure: after that day, I would have died for any one of them. No exceptions. No conditions.

“Constance!”

All heads turned inland to see who was coming. Billy's face, soft and kind while he took care of me, twisted into a frightening scowl of barely contained rage. He turned to Jean. “Stay with her?”

“Oui,” the other nodded.

Billy let go of my hand, stood to his full height and marched out through the men, who quickly parted to let him pass, spooked by that dark expression.

Mr. de Groot advanced from the crowd. In his hand, he carried a bucket. He took Billy's place and offered a ladle full of water. “How about something to drink, hmm?”

Having mastered my fear, I sat up straight and accepted the water, sipping slowly so I wouldn't choke. Not far from us, an argument exploded.

“Oh God, is she alright?” I heard Muldoon asking – followed by the dry sound of a fist landing on a jaw.

A chorus of “oh” rose and fell in a wave.

“Where the fuck were you?!” Billy bellowed. “You left her up there alone without aid! She almost died!”

Logan's voice: “We were only gone for a minute to get something to eat! It was just a joke, I swear!”

“Well your fucking joke could have cost her life! It's like I'm dealing with a bunch of amateurs instead of seasoned seamen! Are you all amateurs?! What am I always telling you? Stick together and watch each other's backs! And what did you do? The exact fucking opposite! What is wrong with you?!”

No answer.

I couldn't see much, but from a tight breach in the crowd I managed to spot Muldoon on the sand, bleeding from a burst lip. Despite the humiliation, he didn't dare get back on his feet. The mood among the crew was of intense interest mixed with resentment. For me. Against them. If it weren't for Billy standing between them and my watch, they probably would have torn my watch apart for abandoning one of their own in such a precarious, dangerous situation.

De Groot tried to give me more water. “Never you mind that. Have another sip.”

Gently, I turned the ladle down, anxious to see what would happen next. On the one hand, I was angry at them for what they had done; a joke is only a joke while all parties are perfectly safe. This had gone too far. Billy was right, I could have died.

On the other... I couldn't help to pity them. This was grave indeed and the punishment would have to match the trespass.

“Unbelievable.” Billy said. “You really have nothing to say for yourselves?”

“What's going on here?”

Mr. Gates.

Again, all heads whipped around as the crowd parted. And it wasn't just Gates – Captain Flint followed close behind.

His presence alone blanketed us all with a sense of unease.

Captain and quartermaster surveyed the scene: Muldoon bleeding on the sand; my shift mates tweedling their thumbs, chins tilted down in shame; Billy towering over them, arms crossed over his chest; and me, still trembling from the aftershock as Mr. de Groot and Jean tended to me.

Flint's stare hopped from my sheet-white face to the careened ship and back, stopping at my hands. Suddenly, I became very aware of the dried blood that covered them, from scrapping barnacles all afternoon.

Billy gave them the account of what had happened, from the moment they first heard my cries for help to the scolding he was delivering Logan and the rest. Gates' expression turned darker and darker with each word, going red, then purple, then red again. On the other hand, Flint remained impassive, his hands tucked behind his back as he listened.

When Billy finished the report, Gates turned on my friends, fists shaking at him sides.

“These are some serious allegations. I ought to pin you down to that sandbar until high tide! Captain--” He turned to Flint. “I believe a trial is in order. We can't let this one slide. Someone could have died.”

Murmurs of agreement spread about, faces grim as they looked between me and my neglectful companions. And to think, only a few hours ago, we were at the tavern eating and laughing together. Now, I could hardly look at them.

From my left side, I felt a persistent tingle on my cheek and turned my head to look: Captain Flint stared at me from across the crowd, examining me.

I don't know what he divinated from my eyes, but after almost a minute, he broke contact and addressed the crew. “I agree. Let's take a moment to collect ourselves and get the story straight. I will hear the account of all parties involved... And then we go to votes.”

The crowd split up. Muldoon, Logan and the others were taken away and made to sit on the sand under some shade, with a ring of men standing guard over them. Mr. de Goot and Jean helped me to my feet and took me to the aft of the Walrus, where they sat me on a rustic wooden chair. They insisted I had some more water and biscuits, to recover my strength; they tasted like sawdust on my tongue and felt just as rough. One month in this crew and this would be the second trial I was at the center of. How unlucky could I be?

Not long after, Captain Flint and Mr. Gates came to me to hear my version of the story. I told them everything, swearing to the truth of my words. After they left to go talk to the others, I bent over my knees and held my head in my hands, worried about what was going to happen to them. No matter how I had wanted to shove my fist into all their kissers, I didn't want them to get too hurt. Or worse, expelled from of the crew.

Yet, with a sinking feeling, I was certain that was the most likely outcome.

Out of nowhere, a heavy hand clamped on my shoulder, nearly startling me out of my seat.

“Sorry,” Billy said in response to my gasp. “Didn't mean to scare you.”

“It's fine,” I sighed while massaging my heart. “Guess I'm still a little out of it.”

He crouched in front of me, same as before. With a quiet snort, I realized that, even low to the ground and while I was on a chair, he still towered over me.

“Something funny?” He asked.

“No, it's just...” I tilted my head back just a smidge to look him in the eyes. “I was thinking that even when you're crouched, I still have to look up to you. How did you get to be so damn tall?”

A shy, adorable smile graced his features and he brought a hand up to scratch at his nose. I decided then and there that a bashful Billy Bones was my favorite Billy Bones.

“Would you be surprised to find out I was once tiny and skinny?”

“Noooo... Really?” I arched my eyebrows at him, trying to imagine him as a short, lanky child (I couldn't).

He nodded a couple of times whilst that smile widened into a relaxed chuckle. “Really. Until my sixteenth birthday, I was a spit of a kid. Then I had a growth spurt and just... Never stopped stretching.”

I pointed to his broad shoulders and large arms. “Upwards or sideways,” I jested.

“No, that part came from hard work and dedication. It takes effort to get this big, y'know?”

I laughed, delighted that he played along instead of chiding me. He was still the boatswain, after all, and I a subordinate. My adoration from earlier returned in full force, especially as I recalled how he saved me from falling to my death. I was indebted to him for that and had no way to repay him. Or so I thought, then.

Sighing through my nose, I chipped off the flakes of dried blood from my forearms. “Thank you, by the way... For saving my life. It was very brave of you.”

He half shrugged, avoiding my gaze. “What else was I supposed to do? Let you fall?”

Now it was my turn to be bashful. I let my head turn to the side so he wouldn't see my flushed cheeks or my big, stupid smile.

“Listen, uh...” A pause, during which his tone shifted to something more serious. “I wanted to talk to you about what's going to happen next. With the trial.”

My smile crumbled right out of my face. Slowly, reluctantly, I faced toward him once more. He wasn't smiling anymore, either. In fact, there was something fierce behind that calm demeanor, something violent – a caged animal fighting to be let out.

“Things aren't looking good for those dumbasses. You and I both know that expulsion from this crew is going to be the inevitable result in all this mess. However...”

He let out a heavy breath and rubbed his palms together. “As angry as I am about the whole thing, that's not what I want. Apart from my friends, those men are good sailors and it would be a waste to have a handful of our best leave suddenly, all at once.”

He scrutinized my features carefully. When he saw the way I pouted, gaze on the sand at my feet, his sneer softened up. “And I get the feeling that's not what you want, either.”

I shook my head side to side. “No. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm pissed beyond belief, and it's gonna take me a long while to forget about all this. But I don't want to see them banished. They're my friends, too, and they didn't mean any harm by it. They were just... inconsiderate.”

“And as you know, there are some in the crew that would much rather see you gone than they,” he pointed out.

Like Mr. Singleton. Mr. Turk. Cutthroat Fred... Indeed, it was no secret that a not-insignificant number of the men didn't like me, never had and probably never would. They only tolerated me because Mr. Gates willed it so, and Flint ordered it so, and Billy and a handful of others enforced it so.

“I think--” He continued. “You would go a long way to gain their favor if you were to publicly declare you held no grudge against them for their antics and voted in favor of them staying.”

I leaned back on the chair and searched his eyes. “Do you think it would be the right thing to do?”

He made a face of 'I dunno'. “Doesn't matter what I think. I'm just laying out the cards for you. You're the wronged party here. What do you think?”

I chewed on my bottom lip for a bit, torn between resentment and love for my friends. I would forgive them... One day. And they would have to remain a part of the crew in order for that to happen.

“I think it would be for the best, for everyone. Including me. I want to forgive them. I want them to have a chance to earn that forgiveness.”

A half smile crossed his lips. He reached out to give my forearm an encouraging touch. “Very well, then. I'll let the captain know you're ready.” He stood to his feet and walked away.

Where his hand had been, I suddenly felt very cold. I liked his touch. It reminded me of the feeling of honey on my fingertips, silky and supple, or how the waves licked at my ankles, like earlier that afternoon. Inadvertently, the thought that he was certain to give great hugs tugged at my gut.

Then it struck me that, in a way, I already knew how good his hugs were. He had held me against him so strongly, up on the mast, yet so carefully, at the same time. His hand was so gentle as it stroked my hair, and his skin...

God, his skin. Smooth, sun-kissed, feverish. He smelled of sweat, but not the kind that burned your nose and made you want to hurl. It had the kind of natural musk that was strong, but not unpleasant, a smell so delicious it made my mouth water. If I could of have it lathered on my own skin, I would bask in that scent for eternity.

Alarmed, I realized that my chest was hurting from the way my heart pounded. With wide eyes, I covered my mouth with my fingertips, horrified at my own carnal thoughts. The same thing had happened up there, when I'd had him between my thighs and...

Heat crept up my neck and cheeks and forehead, until even my hair roots seemed to be catching fire. Oh, this wasn't good. This was not good, at all.

*** The sky was beginning to turn a lovely shade of pink when the crew gathered around in a wide circle on the beach.

Mr. Gates, my friends and myself were at the center of it. Captain Flint stood to the side, on the front row of this circus. Though he presided over the crew, he was also an equal among them, for during trials, the captain's vote held no more sway than the lowest ranking deckhand.

Torches had been lit as the cloak of night crept on us, so we wouldn't be stumbling in the dark by the time this was finished. I pulled Jean's borrowed frock tighter around my shoulders to fight off the cold that gained strength as the day died out. "So," Gates began. "We all know why we're here, but to recapitulate, I will give you a quick account of the events that led to this trial.”

He cleared his throat. “This afternoon, at four bells, the defendants before you were selected to form the first shift chucking and tarring the hull of the Walrus. Sometime after six bells, they saw fit to leave their colleague, Miss Constance Tilly, alone on the mast while they went to get food and drinks, as a poorly conceived method of hazing. Under the sweltering heat, she feared for her life and saw fit to try to come down by herself. As a result, she slipped and hung several hundred yards in the air. As she does not yet possess the brute strength spending months at see bestows upon a sailor, and after the better part of the day working practically without reprieve, she was unable to climb up to safety. She called out for help and our boatswain, Billy Bones, courageously went up the shrouds to rescue her. It is solely thanks to him that Constance is still drawing breath." I had to smile hearing the little note of pride in that last sentence. Billy tried not to show, but his chest puffed visibly as he held himself tall, with a small smile on his lips. "As such, we are now here gathered to vote on whether to oust the defendants from this crew, definitely and irreversibly."

Gates addressed my companions, who each held a mixture of regret, fear and trepidation on their faces. "Gentlemen, this is your opportunity to defend your honor before your shipmates. Who among you do you choose to represent you?" Mr. Folsom came forward. "I will represent our party."

"Very well." Gates stepped back with an outstretched hand, inviting him to take the stage. Folsom started by taking in the silent men, eyes lingering on those I knew were personal friends of his. He spoke to them first.

"What we did today was unforgivable. Of this, we are aware. By our own recklessness, Constance could have lost her life over a moronic prank. She might be new in our midst, but she has proven her worth time and time again. She's a quick study, hard-working and serviceable. Never denied lending a hand and never complains. Well... for the most part. But whom among us never complained at least once?"

A wave of uneasy laughter rolled through the men. Even I had to smile, a little.

Next, he turned his attention to me and I saw the furrow of his brow deepen in honest guilt. "You may have joined less than a month ago, but we already consider you a part of the crew. That makes you a sister to us, which should cover us all the more in shame. Please know we bore no ill will toward you. We never meant to put you in real danger, yet that's exactly what we did. Can you find it in your heart to forgive us?" Though he spoke for everyone to hear, and this apology was just as much for their benefit as it was for mine, somehow I knew it was directed first and foremost to me. I searched the faces of the other accused and saw nothing but regret and the need for absolution.

If it had been Logan, I might have forgiven them before bed. If it had been Muldoon, I would have made good on my thread by giving him an extra bruise on the jaw to pair up with Billy's and forgiven them the following day.

But it was Folsom who apologized for them all. Folsom, with whom I'd had my first altercation and for whom I'd developed deep respect. I had learned so much from him, once we'd found some common ground.

He looked so humble before me, before us, as he begged forgiveness. "Constance?" Mr. Gates called. "Would you care to say a few words before we vote?"

I tilted my chin up and sighed through my nose. Without taking my eyes away from Mr. Folsom, I declared: "I won't lie and say I'm not angry with you. I am. You shouldn't have left me alone up there. Today... was the scariest day of my life and I won't forget that so soon." Folsom's fists balled up. Logan, Muldoon and the others gawked at me, fearful, no doubt already counting the minutes before they found themselves out of a job. I was making them squirm, sure, but could I be blamed? Honestly? Then I glanced at Billy, who observed me with a knowing smirk. He nodded ever so slightly in approval. I returned my attention to Folsom and the others.

"Even so, I believe your sentiment of guilt. And yes, I know you had no bad intentions when you left. This doesn't change how I feel about you all, and I will still call you friends and brothers whole-heartedly. I forgive you. All of you."

Folsom and the others deflated in relief. I could have sworn I saw Logan wipe a runaway tear, though I would never tell my suspicions to his face.

Around us, the men hummed their approval. I even felt a few hands touch my shoulder and back, accompanied by soft comments like a wise attitude and you're a noble woman, Constance.

Mr. Gates stepped forward to address us all one more time. "If no one else has anything to add?"

No one professed themselves.

"Then let us go to votes. All those in favor of letting the defendants remain with us?" Several hands shot up. Most of them, from what I could tell. They included Billy, Flint, de Groot, Jean, Gates and my own.

My shoulders slumped and my heart was at peace. They were staying. "All those against?" Hardly a dozen hands went up.

"That settles it then." Mr. Gates clapped. "Gentlemen, you may stay with us for a while longer." There was a tentative applause for the close call. But, it became apparent I wasn't the only wronged party here, after all. A betrayal of your crew, no matter how slight, was a serious offense. They were going to have to work hard to make up for this incident.

"Now, as for punishment," Mr. Gates proclaimed once the clapping stopped. "The captain, the boatswain and I spoke on this matter and have reached a consensus: for abandoning your stations and putting your companion in peril from your negligence, you will be working double shift cleaning the hull and you will be scrubbing the decks while we're at sea for the next three months."

The group groaned and grimaced (Muldoon buried his face in his hands in despair), but no one dared contesting. They knew they deserved worse, so this, they would endure. "With that said, I declare this trial officially concluded. Thank you all for your participation. Now, how about some roast pork on the spit for supper, to end the day on a high note?"

We all whooped in agreement, energized by the thought of some food and rum. But, while the others dispersed, I stayed where I was.

My regretful friends slumped forward . Truth be told, after Mr. Folsom's speech, plus the thought of their imminent expulsion, my anger had somewhat cooled down. I was ready to put this whole ordeal behind us. Muldoon was the first to speak, eyes as watery as a puppy's. "Are you all right?"

"I am," I muttered. "Billy got to me before I could fall. I wasn't hurt." "We're really sorry, Constance." Logan rubbed a hand down his neck, incapable of meeting my gaze. "We never meant to put you in harm's way, honest." "I know, Logan." I offered him a compassionate frown. "Sorry you won't get to see Charlotte much." He shrugged with an unconcerned grin. "She'll still be there waiting for me when we're done. It's fine." "Besides, we were asking for it, weren't we?" Muldoon added, to which the rest agreed. "And Constance? Thanks for vouching for us. We owe you a lot for this." "Damn right, you do. But for now..." I smirked and punched his arm. Hard. "Let's get some booze and dinner. I'm starving." They bellowed in agreement, though Muldoon was massaging the spot where I'd hit him. I did say I would get him one day, didn't I?

As a unit, we marched up the dark beach towards the fire pit where our food would cook. One day, I would collect this favor, with interests. But not tonight. Not tonight.

[icedragonlizard]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIRBY!!!! (and headcanons for Kirby's birthdays)

IT'S KIRBY'S 32ND ANNIVERSARY!!!!

I headcanon that Kirby's birthdays get celebrated BIG TIME in-universe.

As in, he has giant birthday parties happening right outside his house every year.

All his friends show up.

King Dedede, Meta Knight, Bandana Waddle Dee, Rick, Kine, Coo, Nago, ChuChu, Pitch, Gooey, Marx, Adeleine, Ribbon, Shadow Kirby, Dark Meta Knight, Daroach and the rest of the squeak squad, Magolor, Taranza, Susie, Francisca, Flamberge, Zan Partizanne, Hyness, Elfilin, Clawroline, Leongar, Gorimondo, Sillydillo, and many more show up!

Even some waddle dees, waddle doos, chillies, burning leos, bonkers, bugzzies and other helper species show up too!

Kracko doesn't show up, and thankfully he's sensible enough to not try anything on Kirby's birthdays. He knows that everyone would hunt him down if he tried. He's not THAT stupid.

Kirby's birthdays are big events, as shown by the ^ amount of people that show up. It's a huge deal! Everyone cares about it!

And honestly, how couldn't they be big events? Kirby is the biggest hero in this universe. He's beloved and celebrated all over. He deserves big time celebrations after everything he's done for everybody.

While most of his birthday parties happen right outside his house, there have been a few occasions where they've happened elsewhere. One was held at the Forgotten Land's planet in Waddle Dee Town, while another was held in Merry Magoland in another part of Dream Land. (You can bet that Magolor was super glee and proud of that!)

Kirby really knows how to spread love and joy. He's spread it to so many people, and then they spread it to him on his birthdays.

<3

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIRBY!

[kachikirby]

Kirby: Mysterious Incident on the Pupupu Train! - Chapter 8: The Pupupu Train's Great Pinch!

Previous Chapter

Everyone stood speechless. The only person who spoke was York.

“Th… that’s not possible… he’s the greatest driver in the galaxy…!”

“There’s no mistake about it, since this comes from the driver himself! We will soon collide with the meteor!” The conductor replied in a strong tone.

“Soon…!?”

York fell onto the sofa, seeming to have fainted again.

“We can do something, can’t we?! But how…!? I got it! Meta Knight! Evacuate all the passengers to your battleship!” King Dedede shouted.

“The Halberd is anchored in Dream Land. It won’t get here in time.” Meta Knight answered in a dark voice.

“Kuh… well… isn’t there any other option…!?”

“Destroy the meteor! We just gotta wreck it before it can crash into us!” Knuckle Joe shouted.

“Sounds like a great plan, Knuckle Joe! I’ll be the one to go then! It’ll take a single hit from my hammer!” Bonkers said.

“If we’re talking about hammers, then I’m up! Just leave it all to me!” Dedede shouted, having cheered up.

“…that’s right! Kirby, inhale me!” Burning Leo yelled.

Kirby blinked in response to that sudden outburst.

“Huh?”

“That way, you’ll be able to use the Fire Copy Ability! The strong flames will be able to burn the meteor!”

The other passengers also began to raise their voices.

“Inhale me! My freezing breath can freeze the meteor!”

“No way! My bomb throw can destroy it!”

“Incorrect! My kunai shuriken split the meteor in two!”

Everyone was desperately trying to get through this great problem.

“Let’s go, Kirby!” Meta Knight said.

“Huh? Do you want me to inhale you, Meta Knight?”

“That’s not what I mean! Let’s go to the cabin!”

“The cabin…”

“I want to talk to the driver. I’d like to hear his opinion on what would be the best way to destroy the meteor.”

Upon saying that, Meta Knight flipped his cape back and left the dining car.

“I got it!”

“Wait! I’m going with you!”

Kirby and King Dedede quickly followed after Meta Knight.

~~~~~~~~

The driver stared at the screen with large drops of sweat on his forehead. However, the distance of the meteor was gradually shrinking.

“…there’s nothing that can be done… there’s no time left… what should I do… what should I do…?”

As he grumbled, he heard a voice from behind him.

“What can we do to avoid the meteor?”

It was Meta Knight.

“I’m thinking of how to do that! Don’t interrupt me!” The driver shouted.

“Kirby can probably help with it.”

“Mr. Kirby can?”

The driver looked back.

“No way, can he drive?”

“Nope!” Kirby replied in a serious voice. “I can’t drive a train!”

The driver sighed and turned to face forward again.

“Then leave. I’d like to concentrate.”

“But I might be able to destroy the meteor!”

“What did you say…?”

The driver turned around again and stared doubtfully at Kirby.

“How can you destroy a giant meteor like that? If you destroy it, you can’t do it without breaking into hundreds of pieces!”

He pointed to the screen. On it was the approaching meteor, the Pupupu Train, and the tracks.

“It’s bigger than I imagined. Even someone as grand as me can’t do it… it’s even impossible for Kirby with a Copy Ability…” Dedede growled aloud.

Kirby raised his eyes and looked at the screen. It was just as the driver and King Dedede said. Even if he tried with all his might, destroying a meteor as big as this one would be impossible. Plus, the distance between it and the Pupupu Train was getting shorter and shorter…!

“I can’t use Hammer… I can’t use Fighter… I can’t burn it with Fire… same with Ice…”

Hearing Kirby’s mumbling, the driver spoke with an impatient voice.

“Anyway, I’ll do my best to solve it. I’d like to concentrate, so please leave me be.”

But Kirby did not move. He was staring so hard at the screen, as if he could be sucked into it.

“Can’t use Ninja… nor Cutter… Sword…”

“Mr. Kirby, please….!”

Meta Knight softly grabbed Kirby’s hand. “Let’s go, Kirby. The driver is desperately trying to figure out a way to stop this, and we don’t want to interrupt him.”

Dedede also spoke up. “Let’s go back to the dining car. Everyone’s probably worried if I’m not there.”

However, Kirby did not move.

“Beam can’t… Mic can’t… Wheel can’t… none of those…”

The meteor grew closer. Kirby let out a gasp.

“I got it…if we can’t destroy the meteor… how about we jump over it?!” Kirby shouted, his voice as bouncy as he was.

The driver was dumbfounded. “…huh? Just what do you…?”

“We jump over it! We rush towards the meteor, and BOING!”

The driver shook his head. “What are you saying…?”

“That’s it.” Meta Knight raised his voice. “That just might be able to help. Kirby, do you know how to make it jump?”

“I’m gonna lift the train!” Kirby replied with a cheerful voice. “And then I’m gonna jump with all my might! Just as the meteor is about to collide, I’ll jump!”

“There’s no way you’d be able to do that. Do you know how much power you’d need…?” The driver asked with a troubled look. But then King Dedede spoke up. “…there’s a better chance with that than destroying the meteor.”

“Right?!”

“Driver, would you mind lending Kirby your strength?” Meta Knight said.

“Huh?”

Meta Knight advanced to look at the screen.

“Just before the meteor hits the tracks, we make it float. And then when we avoid collision, we return it to the line.” It had sounded like his voice regained its strength. “Kirby will be the one to make the train float. Your job will be to stabilize the car body when it returns to the track. Do you think you can do that?”

“What…what are you…?” The driver was stunned. “Make the train float…? How…?”

“I’ll do my best and carry the train! What do you think!?” Kirby answered happily.

“Can… can you… really do something like that…”

The driver stared at Kirby. When he saw his straight face, he let out a sigh and glanced towards the screen. At that moment, the meteor was getting closer and closer.

“…I understand. I’ll believe in Mr. Kirby. It doesn’t matter how heavy the car is, I’ll make sure it gets stabilized when it returns to the track.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Let’s work together. Take this if you need to speak to me.”

The driver handed Kirby a small device.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a communication device. Put it on and you’ll be able to talk to me. Let’s talk to each other and match up our timings.”

“Okay!”

Kirby ran off enthusiastically towards the dining car.

~~~~~~~~

“Do your best! Hang in there!” Kirby jumped into the dining car shouting.

The passengers there, who had been looking at each other with worried looks, heard Kirby’s voice and shouted back.

“Kirby, do you have a plan!?”

“I’m ready to go! Now, inhale me, Kirby!”

“Get outta here, you won’t help! Inhale me, Kirby!”

The passengers surrounded Kirby.

Kirby shouted. “Capsule J2, please lend me your strength!”

“…huh?”

Capsule J2, who had been behind everyone, was surprised. He wasn’t as strong as Bonkers or Knuckle Joe, which was why he thought that it wasn’t his place to get involved and kept quiet about being inhaled.

“Me? But why…?”

“We’re gonna use a jet to jump over the shooting star!”

Kirby raised both his hands.

“Jump over a shooting star…I have no idea what you mean but… ok, as long as I can help! Inhale me, Kirby!” Capsule J2 said in a bewildered manner.

“Thank you, Capsule J2!”

Kirby opened his mouth and took a deep inhaling breath. Capsule J2 flew through the air and into Kirby’s mouth. Immediately, his form changed. He now had a jet-like helmet on his head and a jet tank on his back. This was the Jet Ability, which allowed him to fly! …but upon seeing Kirby’s form, the other passengers complained.

“Capsule J2? The Jet Copy Ability?”

“There’s no strength! It won’t do anything against the meteor!”

“You really should’ve inhaled me, Kirby!”

Kirby shook off what everyone was saying and opened the window to the dining car as everyone hurried to stop him.

“Hold it! What are you doing, Kirby?!”

“Don’t you know that there’s no way that Jet is gonna destroy the meteor…?!”

“Nope! Everything will be fine!”

Kirby kicked the window frame and jumped out into the infinite space!

~~~~~~~~

The meteor was gradually approaching. Kirby stood crouched down on the front of the train, just above the cabin. He took a deep breath and reached down to the edges of the vehicle, and clenched onto it with both hands.

“Give me your power… give me your power…”

Little by little, Kirby’s face turned red.

~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, inside the car, Meta Knight gave out instructions.

“This isn’t good. Everyone, return to your rooms and prepare for impact.”

“Got it!”

Everyone returned to their rooms. The maid woke up York.

“President, this isn’t a place you should sleep. Return to your room for your own safety!”

York slowly opened his eyes. “For… my own safety…? Wh-what have I awoken to…?”

He didn’t seem to understand what was going on. He shook his head with a blank expression.

“What happened? What about the meteor…?”

“We’re going to jump.” Meta Knight answered.

“Huh? Going to… jump… over it…?”

“There’s no time to explain. Return to your room. As a countermeasure, wrap yourself in a blanket and fix it to something so it won’t blow away.”

“I’ll go help the guest. There are some spare blankets we can hand out!” The maid said.

“Please do. Then ensure your own safety when you are done helping them.”

“Understood!”

As the maid was going to leave, she was called out to by York.

“W-wait! Hold it!”

“President, please protect yourself! You are as important as the guests! Now, please excuse me.” The maid replied sharply and turned around.

York wobbled as he walked. “It’s better if we split up. You take the passengers in the back of the train, and I’ll take care of the ones in the front.”

“Understood!”

The maid and York both ran out of the dining car.

“That York, I thought he would be the type to push away his customers in regards for his own safety over others, but it seems I was wrong.” Axe Knight uttered, surprised.

“He got involved with smuggling due to the prospect of money making, but maybe he’s a hard worker at heart.” Trident Knight said.

“No matter how hard he works, I can’t forgive him for trying to make money off such dangerous vegetables. I absolutely hate it!” Javelin Knight said.

Vul was the last to speak. “There’s no time to chat. We’ve also got to return to our room and keep ourselves safe!”

“Yes, sir!”

Hearing Captain Vul’s taut voice for the first time in a while put the Meta Knights in high spirits and they ran at full speed down the hallway.

-------

Table of Contents

Next Chapter

[linkandorf]

Mr. Frosty!

What is there to say about Mr. Frosty... well he's a big silly walrus who appears most of the time as a Mid-Boss, and has represented two different, albeit similar, Copy Abilities across his appearances. In his debut, as well as it's remake, he gave the Freeze ability, but in all other appearances, he gives the Ice ability. Mr. Frosty has some pretty funny animations and attacks throughout his appearances. He'll run across the screen and try to grab you, swallowing you if he does before spitting you out as an ice cube. Ice cubes are a pretty big part of his moveset, actually. When he bends over to gather them, he also reveals a... particularly notable aspect of his outfit. Which is to say his Ass. Awesome. Mr. Frosty is one of the most reoccurring Mid-Bosses in the series, I believe only beaten out by Bonkers. He even appears in Star Allies, as the only Mid-Boss to not also be a playable helper. If you try to throw a Friend Heart at him, he just transforms into a Chilly helper, which raises some questions. In his most recent appearance in Forgotten Land, he was a little more... Wild than usual... but we'll get there some day. Surely. :).

[lucassantostoons]

Felix the Cat's Birthday Party Guest List

Mickey Mouse

Mickey Mouse

Minnie Mouse

Donald Duck

Daisy Duck

Goofy

Pluto

Clarabelle Cow

Ludwig Von Drake

Goof Troop

Max Goof

Pete

Peg Pete

PJ

Pistol Pete

Chip N Dale Rescue Rangers

Chip N Dale

Gadget Hackwrench

Monterey Jack

Zipper

The Three Caballeros

Panchito Romero Miguel Junipero Francisco Quintero Gonzales III

Jose Carioca

DuckTales (1987)

Scrooge McDuck

Huey Duck

Dewey Duck

Louie Duck

Webby Vanderquack

Bubba the cave duck

Bentina Beakley

Launchpad McQuack

Darkwing Duck

Drake Mallard / Darkwing Duck

Gosalyn Mallard

Looney Tunes

Bugs Bunny

Lola Bunny

Daffy Duck

Porky Pig

Petunia Pig

Sylvester J Pussycat

Granny

Tweety Bird

Tasmanian Devil

Wile E Coyote

Roadrunner

Marvin the Martian

K-9

Pepe Le Pew

Penelope

Speedy Gonzales 

Gossamer

Witch Hazel

Foghorn Leghorn

Elmer Fudd

Yosemite Sam

Mac Gopher

Tosh Gopher

Tiny Toon Adventures

Buster Bunny

Babs Bunny

Plucky Duck

Hamton J Pig

Furrball the Cat

Shirley The Loon

Fifi La Fume

Lil Sneezer

Gogo Dodo

Dizzy Devil

Calamity Coyote

Little Beeper

Arnold the Pit Bull

Byron Basset

Fowlmouth

Mary Melody

Bookworm

Concord Condor

Barry Marky

Marcia the Martian

Animaniacs

Yakko Warner

Wakko Warner

Dor Warner

Pinky and the Brain

The Godpigeon

The Girlfeathers

Pipsqueak

Slappy Squirrel

Skippy Squirrel

Rita

Runt

Mindy

Buttons

Freakazoid

Freakazoid

Tom & Jerry

Tom Cat

Jerry Mouse

Droopy Dog

Butch the Bulldog

Woody Woodpecker

Woody Woodpecker

Winnie Woodpecker

Knothead Woodpecker

Splinter Woodpecker

Chilly Willy

The Adventures of Rocky & Bullwinkle & Friends

Rocky the Flying Squirrel

Bullwinkle J. Moose

Mr. Peabody

Sherman

Betty Boop

Betty Boop

Bimbo the Dog

Bonkers

Bonkers D. Bobcat

Fall Apart Rabbit

Fawn Deer

Jitters A. Dog

Miranda Wright

Disney Princess Characters 

Snow White

Bashful

Happy

Grumpy

Sleepy

Sneezy

Dopey

Doc

Prince Charming

Cinderella

Gus

Jaq

Aurora

Still work in progress

[nothwell]

Thank you to KJ Charles for this inspiring review of The Haunting of Heatherhurst Hall!

~

A big old sapphic Gothic novel with isolated house from which women run in dresses, weird English family, servant with hook for hand, bloodstains, ghosts, Uncle Tom Cobleigh and all. It's good fun. I found Kit rather lachrymose and ineffectual for a lot of the book (and the premise of 'I have no idea why the woman I love is being cold and unfriendly to me! In other news, I just married her brother' is perhaps taking naivety a little too far). But she picks up nicely towards the end, and Alexandra is a chilly, guilt-ridden delight throughout.

The premise is bonkers, but it's a Gothic novel so it would be very disappointing if it was sensible. The world needs more bonkers sapphic Gothic novels. Could have used an edit for consistency issues, but held my attention very happily.

~

The Haunting of Heatherhurst Hall is a Gothic romance rife with horror and heartache, wherein an American heiress makes an ill-advised marriage to bring herself closer the woman who’s stolen her heart.

Amazon • Apple Books • Barnes & Noble • bookshop.org • Kobo • Smashwords

[mermaidsirennikita]

Weekly Book Recs: 2/2/24-2/9/2024

The Kingdom of The Wicked Trilogy by Kerri Mansicalco

You will see this advertised as YA. It is not and I will die on the hill that, whatever the publisher did for a cash grab, whatever Mansicalco's original intentions, this wasn't a YA series from the first book. (For the record: the first book only has one kiss--but the second book has a LOT more, and the third has.... somewhere around 5 pretty damn graphic, great, and creative sex scenes.)

First of all, our heroine is eighteen--and let us be real, there are many, many adult romance novels (or New Adult romances... I honestly don't even know if anyone actually has defined NA, but whatever) centering eighteen-year-old heroines. (And like... is she eighteen? Many things are up for debate here. What's not is that Emilia is an adult.) Second, this series begins with murder and grief, escalates to vengeance, and then climbs to vengeance, power, and a lot of Rather Adult Activities with the Prince of Wrath. I love the world of this book, with witches and demons and a significant amount of time spent in Hell. I love Wrath--in control around everyone but her, seemingly chilly, absolutely protective and secretly my lil baby--and Emilia--somewhat bonkers, ready to take on the world while also being like "this is an amazing white bean dip recipe, which hellspawn made it?" They are an amazing couple. I love them. I love this trilogy. I am happy that subsequent entries are and will be very explicitly categorized as Adult, because... I haven't read Mansicalco's YA books. But this? Feels like her sweet spot.