#I had one of these but a different style from my grandpa or someone

[trickphotography2]

Rooster wasn't for you. You were opposites in so many ways - he was an extrovert to your introvert. The center of attention to your wallflower. You weren't interested in a one night stand, and he couldn't offer more. So his volunteering to help with Friendsgiving was just a friendly gesture after you returned from a deployment...right?

Word count: 7.8K

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“Just a minute!” you called, swiping a strand of hair from your face. The knocking stopped, and you quickly washed the flour from your hands, drying them on the towel thrown over your shoulder while heading to the door.

And there, standing on your front step as the sun started to rise, was Bradley. His normally styled curls were sleep-mussed, his grey t-shirt clinging to his arms and untucked from his Navy PT sweatpants. The smile on his face grew as he took you in - sweatpants, a baggy sweatshirt dotted with flour, fuzzy socks, and not a stitch of makeup. The difference from your normally put-together appearance was stark. “Morning, Duch.”

“You’re late.” Laughing, he held up a bag of microwavable frozen corn.

“Had to turn around when I forgot my contribution.” Rolling your eyes, you stepped back to let him in, watching to ensure he removed his shoes before following you into the kitchen.

“The turkey’s already thawed and in the sink. I just need you to clean it out, and I can take it from there.” Bradley nodded, tossing you the corn before going to the kitchen. You put it in the freezer and walked to the downstairs bathroom to wash your hands before resuming your spot at the counter, picking up your bread lame and staring at the unbaked loaf. A part of you wanted to do a simple score, knowing that it would just be eaten, but the hostess in you demanded a more intricate design. The indecision tore at you. To buy time, you sprinkled the top with more rice flour. 

“Can you get me the trashcan?” Bradley asked, and you nodded, quickly abandoning your project. After you set it beside him and pulled off the cover, he tossed the netting and plastic. You couldn’t help but notice his biceps flex as he shifted the turkey. But you shrunk back when he reached into the cavity and pulled out the giblets and gravy package, shaking your head at his raised eyebrow. He discarded them as you braced yourself, nose scrunching when he removed the neck. “You alright there, Duch?” he teased. 

“Gross.” 

“It’s just a turkey neck,” he said, holding it closer to you. You jumped back.

“I will throat punch you if you touch me with that.” He laughed, edging it closer, and you raised a fist. There was a reason a condition of you hosting everyone for Friendsgiving was someone else cleaning the turkey.

“Didn’t take you for being squeamish.” 

“You would be, too, if your grandpa chased you around the house with it when you were a kid, and you had to lock yourself in a bathroom to escape.” At his barked laugh, you shook your head. “I told that to my ex, and he thought it was funny to put it in his zipper and chase me around the house with it. If floppy dick isn’t attractive, a turkey neck sure as shit isn’t.” 

Bradley choked on a laugh. For as prim and proper as you were at times - hence the callsign Duchess - you sometimes reminded everyone that you also had a military sense of humor. “Maybe you just haven’t seen the right ‘floppy dick,’” he smirked, dropping the neck into the trash. 

Shrugging, you glanced away from him when the oven beeped, alerting that it was preheated. “You’re right. Bob probably has a pretty one.” A rosy flush crept up his cheeks as he turned back to the turkey and forced a laugh. Bradley didn’t want to hear that you were thinking about Bob’s dick. “Put it in this afterward, and I’ll dry it.” After dropping the roasting pan beside him, you rewashed your hands.

Standing in front of your bread, you bit your lip to keep from giggling as you contemplated scoring a dick into the dough but decided to go with a traditional wheat stalk. To your surprise, he grabbed the roll of paper towels by the sink and patted the turkey dry, even the cavity. As you removed the Dutch oven from the preheated oven, he tied up the trash bag and took it out. After putting the bread into the oven, you set the timer and moved to the sink, glancing at Bradley when he came back in. Standing beside you, he reached for the soap and lowered the water temperature before scrubbing his hands. Removing the hand towel from your shoulder, you draped it over his after drying your hands. “Thanks,” he murmured. 

“Thanks for taking care of the turkey.” Standing by the island, you crouched to retrieve a cutting board. The sound of other cabinets closing made you peek over the countertop to see him rooting through the overhead storage. “Are you looking for something?” 

“Coffee mugs.” Biting back a retort about making himself comfortable, you pointed to the right of the stove. You bit your tongue when he grabbed two mugs - including your favorite - and went to the wet bar where the full pot was finished brewing. Placing the cutting board on the counter, you grabbed a knife from the block and were surprised to see a mug of coffee beside your workstation. Murmuring your thanks, you grabbed the creamer from the fridge along with packages of herbs and butter. “What are you making?” Bradley asked.

“A marinade since I didn’t brine the turkey.” 

“You want a hand?” 

“I’ve got it,” you said automatically. “I’ve got a schedule.” He didn’t need to know that you were already behind after falling asleep on the couch early last night and forgetting to set your alarm. And he definitely didn’t need to know that you’d only been awake for 20 minutes before he arrived. If you put your head down and focused, everything would still be ready to eat at the agreed-upon 3:00 PM. Some of your time to get yourself ready would just have to be sacrificed. For some reason, you’d insisted that everyone dress nicely for Friendsgiving. Wearing a uniform almost every day didn’t give you any opportunities to dress up, and sometimes it felt nice to wear something other than jeans and a t-shirt. 

Setting your tablet up, you navigated through the bookmarked recipes and rinsed the herbs before pulling them from the stems. Bradley leaned against the counter beside you and sipped his coffee while glancing around the kitchen. Seeing him relaxing there, one leg crossed over the other and looking like he’d just rolled out of bed, made something flutter in your chest. 

“You know, you could have saved a lot of time if you’d just agreed to let Hangman fry the turkey.”

That made you snort. “I just finished my renovations - the last thing I want is for my house to burn down.” It had taken months to get your home exactly how you wanted it. After twelve years in the Navy, you were ready to put down some roots, and buying a home had seemed like the smart thing to do. Living in a construction zone for the last year hadn’t been fun, but a well-timed deployment meant you weren’t there for the worst of it. The results were worth the pain, and you’d jumped at the chance to host when you got back and realized most of the squad had no plans for Thanksgiving. You couldn’t wait for them to see the changes in the Craftsman that had been a definite fixer-upper when you purchased it. The kitchen had been completely gutted and replaced with double ovens and quartz countertops, and the smaller kitchen island had been moved and changed to a wet bar with a wine fridge, replaced with an oversized one. The popcorn texture was scraped from the ceiling throughout the house, the floors redone, and the walls painted. The primary bath had been updated with a large soaker tub and walk-in shower, and you loved the giant closet. The guest bathrooms still needed work, as did the yard, but those were projects for later. 

“It looks good, Duch,” he said softly, gaze holding yours for a long moment. You felt those inconvenient butterflies again and shoved them aside, dropping your eyes to the cutting board. Bradley wasn’t for you. You were too different - he enjoyed nights out at the bar, while you liked to spend time at home. He liked being the center of attention while you preferred to blend into the background. Besides, he didn’t seem much like a relationship guy, given the number of flings he had at the Hard Deck, while the idea of casual dating gave you hives. Pushing away from the counter, Bradley reached under the sink for a trashbag, putting it into the can before washing his hands. He moved closer, nose twitching slightly at the scent of rosemary, and braced his big hands on the countertop beside you. “Alright, what can I do?” 

“You don’t - ”

“Lemme help.” His eyes met yours, smiling when you sighed. 

“Fine. The meat injector is in here,” you said, bumping one of the drawer handles with your hip. “And I’ll need the chicken stock from the pantry.” Pouring the stock, herbs, and a couple of sticks of butter into a stockpan, you handed Bradley a silicone spatula and told him to stir. You rolled your lips together to keep from smiling when he pulled his phone from his pocket and watched videos of turkey injections before declaring he would be in charge of it. Reluctantly, you agreed. Once the marinade had cooled, the bird was given a second drying, you had finished the coffee, and Bradley had rewatched the video three times, it was time. He studied the turkey through narrowed eyes as you tried not to laugh. “You want to - ”

“Ah!”

“The breast and thighs - ”

“I’m doing it, Duch,” he cut you off. 

“Well, remember that if it turns out dry.” The unimpressed look Bradley shot you made you grin as you put your chin in your hand and motioned for him to proceed. The tip of his tongue poked through his lips as he filled the injector and hovered the needle over the turkey. His eyes darted to you, and you raised an eyebrow. “You can tap out at any time, Rooster.” Instead of replying, he pierced the meat and pushed down on the plunger. You couldn’t help but laugh when he yelped, marinade spraying in his face after pushing too hard. But when he reached to wipe it away, you caught his hands. “Don’t put turkey germs all over your face,” you scoffed, towing him toward the sink. You held his chin while cleaning his face with wet paper towels. 

“Now you’re just messing with me,” he chuckled when you scrubbed his mustache, but he didn’t pull away. His breath was hot on your hand, and his smile soft when you reached up to dab away a speck of garlic in his eyebrow. Balling up the paper towel, you shook your head. 

“Wash your face with soap to make sure you don’t get salmonella. Cyclone’ll kill me if you’re out with food poisoning.” Turning on the water, you ensured it was warm before getting a clean washcloth. The oven timer beeped as you dug through the linen closet, and you hurried back into the kitchen, throwing the towel on the sink beside him and grabbing the pot holders to take out your bread. Once it was on the wire rack to cool, you moved to the turkey. 

“What’re you doing?” Bradley demanded, turning while drying his face. 

“Taking over.” You gasped when he closed the space between you in a few strides, wrapped his arm around your waist, and lifted you away from the counter. “Bradshaw! What the hell?”

“Told you I’m doing it,” he chuckled in your ear. Once back on your feet, you spun in his hold and stared at him. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his cocky smirk. 

“Fine, but if you waste more of my marinade, you’re out of my kitchen.”

“Deal.” 

Thankfully, there were no further incidents, but you kept a close eye on him while slicing up a loaf of bread you’d baked two days before and let go stale for stuffing. After covering the roasting tray with tin foil, the bird went back into the fridge to rest for a few hours. “Thanks, Rooster. I guess I’ll see you later?”

“What else can I do?” 

“You don’t - ” 

“I want to help. I haven’t…” his eyes dropped to the floor as he shrugged. “I never got to do this before. My mom and I would always go to my cousin’s for Thanksgiving before she died, and it always seemed kinda fun.” 

Everyone on the squad knew that Bradley’s parents had passed when he was young. He didn’t mention them often, but you noticed he’d get quiet sometimes when people talked about their families. So his volunteering the information felt important, and glancing at the clock showed that you were still behind schedule. “Fine.”

“Yeah?” he asked, excitement flashing in his eyes. 

“Don’t look so happy - you’re doing prep work. You can peel potatoes, assemble the veggie tray, and roast the garlic. I need to work on sides and desserts.” 

And he did. Bradley followed your instructions, grimacing while peeling potatoes over the trash can until you took out a plastic bag and put it in the sink for him to do it there. You kept an eye on him as he cut the spuds into uniform pieces after explaining that they wouldn’t cook evenly for the mashed potatoes, somewhat worried that he would cut himself. Rather than deal with the onions, you delegated the task and tried not to laugh at his near-constant sniffles and swipes at his watery eyes as you diced peppers. Once you dug out the hand-me-down crystal platters, he arranged the veggies you’d prepped the night before while making pies. Dips were mixed, and cans of olives and bottles of pickles were opened and drained before being plated.

Other than bumping into one another when going for the fridge at the same time, it wasn’t too bad sharing the kitchen. The coffee pot was quickly emptied, and Bradley brewed another between shredding blocks of cheese. You sang along with your playlists, his deep voice joining on a few songs while teasing you about others. When you sang about karma being a kink, he watched your hips sway at the sink, clenching his jaw when you sang a breathy ‘oh god.’ 

He slid the roasting tray into the oven when the turkey was rested and ready to cook. “Now what?” he asked, turning to look at you. 

“Now we keep an eye on it for about four hours. Baste and re-inject it every hour or so,” you shrugged. A glance at his watch showed it would be almost 2:00 PM by the time it was ready. As though realizing it would still be hours before eating, his stomach grumbled its discontent. He blushed when you smirked. “I guess the least I can do is make my sous chef breakfast. Get the muffins and butter from the fridge for me.”  

“Did you make these?” he asked, setting the containers beside you as you heated a skillet on the stove.

“I did - family tradition is grilled muffins on Thanksgiving morning. You okay with blueberry?” At his nod, you started slicing muffins in half. Rather than giving you space, Bradley stayed at your elbow. A comfortable silence fell, broken only by sizzling butter. His gaze met yours when you glanced up at him, and a smile tugged at his mouth. 

An image of reaching up to bury your fingers in his messy curls and tugging his mouth down to meet yours flashed through your mind. Your fingers twitched with the urge to do it, eyes drifting to his mouth and lingering there for a moment too long. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and you forced yourself to look away, heat creeping into your face. 

You nearly jumped out of your skin when he reached up to shift a strand of hair that had fallen from your messy bun. “I’m glad you're back, Duch,” he said, voice slightly raspy. 

Forcing a laugh, you plated two muffins and handed them to him. “Everyone misses the mom friend of the group when she’s deployed.” Your eyes darted to his stomach when it growled again, just in time to see the front of his sweats twitch. Pretending you didn’t see it, you nodded to the living room. “The parade is recording if you want to watch it.” 

Bradley opened his mouth as though he would say something before taking the apparent dismissal. Alone in the kitchen, you touched your cheek and felt warm skin. With a deep breath, you grilled yourself a muffin as the sound of the broadcasters came from the living room. After topping up your coffee, you joined him. He sprawled on one end of the couch, plate balanced on a thigh as he sipped his coffee. Sitting on the opposite side, you crossed your legs and let out a soft groan. Only a couple of hours standing in the kitchen and your back was already starting to protest. “What else do you have to do this morning?” he asked after a moment.

Mentally running through your list, you sighed. “I need to do some cleaning and get into the attic. I’ll start cooking a bit closer to noon, so things just have to be warmed up.”

“What do you need from the attic?” 

“My nice china. My parents bought my sister and I sets for our hope chests when we were kids.”

“What’s a hope chest?”

“You know, stuff you’d need once you get married?” When his eyebrows shot up, you shrugged. “They weren’t really serious about it - it was more of a joke. But, every once in a while, they’d buy something for us and put it away for when we were older and say it was for our hope chest.” Taking a bite of muffin, you gave him a sad smile, “Mine’s more of a ‘hopeless’ chest,’ though. I guess they finally gave up on me getting married because they gave it to me when they sold their house and moved closer to the grandkids. I figured I’d get it out and use it instead of having it sit in the cardboard boxes it’s been in for over two decades.” Something passed over Bradley’s face but disappeared in an instant. Wanting to change the subject, you asked, “What do you usually do for Thanksgiving?”

“Nothing. It’s just another Thursday.” When you frowned, he lifted a shoulder. “A couple of times, I went to the Officer’s Club, or someone would invite me over. But most of the time, I just make myself a turkey sandwich and catch up on sleep. What about you?”

“If I’m not with my family, then this. When I first commissioned, I went to the O-Club with some friends but missed cooking and hanging out. And you know how hard it is to go home for the holidays.” He nodded even though he didn’t. Bradley never asked for the time off unless he was dating someone who insisted on it. With no family to visit, he was happy to volunteer when there was reduced manning and allow others to take leave. “So I invited a couple of people from my squad over, and that was that.” 

“It’s a lot of work.”

“It is,” you agreed. “But it’s worth it.” Bradley’s fingers curled around his plate and in his sweatpants, his chest expanding as he took a deep breath. When he shifted forward, you quickly stood and reached out your hand for his empty plate. “Do you want another one?” Shaking his head, he stood and took your plate. 

“Do you?” Swallowing hard, you shook your head and watched him walk back into the kitchen. Biting back a groan, you gave yourself a moment to collect yourself. Things had been…different… since you’d gotten home. And as much as you enjoyed these quiet moments alone with Bradley, it also stung. You’d thought the time away would help, but as soon as you were back, it was like no time had passed. He was still there, partnering for foosball in the Ready Room and coaxing you to go to the Hard Deck. Making sure that you sat next to him in briefings. Offering to look at your car when it made a noise.

Friends. That’s what friends do for each other. After all, he did the same for Nat. 

Collecting the empty coffee mugs, you followed him to the kitchen and watched as Bradley cleaned up the mess and set it in the sink. “Don’t feel like you have to stick around, Rooster. I can handle getting everything ready.” 

“I’m happy to help if you want me here. I’d just sit at my house watching TV and wait to come back if I went home.” 

Chewing the inside of your lip, you bit back a wave of want. “Don’t think this gets you out of the dress code,” you replied, forcing your voice to be cool while allowing your eyes to run the length of him. “I’m serious - slacks and button-downs, not sweats.” 

Laughing, he snapped a salute. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll make sure I run home and change to pass your inspection.” 

The rest of the morning was a blur, punctuated by moments of stark clarity. 

Bradley’s hands on your waist as you climbed down the attic stairs. 

Biceps flexing as he carried your Christmas tree to a spare bedroom to set up tomorrow.

His elbow bumping yours as he dried the china and set it aside.  

The look of concentration on his face when he basted and injected the turkey again.

His body passing close to yours as he emptied the dishwasher and you assembled dishes.

Just after noon, he went home to get ready while you showered. People were due to arrive around 1:30 PM, and you were back on schedule with your unexpected assistant. 

Sooner than you expected, there was a knock at the door. Groaning, you capped your mascara, shimmied into your black sheath cocktail dress, and went to answer it. Bradley stood on the porch, having changed into a pair of slacks and one of his nicer Hawaiian shirts, hands in his pockets. Folded over his arm was a coat, and he grinned at you when he caught you looking at it. “Wasn’t sure if I would pass inspection without a sports coat,” he chuckled, allowing his gaze to rake over you. A flush rose on your cheeks as you reached behind yourself to pull up the dress zipper. It caught just above the top of your thong.  “You look… you’re fine.” Chuckling, he shook his head. 

“Turn around, Duch.” After a beat, you stepped back to allow him inside and did as he said.

“There’s a hook and eye at the top,” you said and inhaled sharply when you felt his fingers brush the back of your neck. The smell of his cologne enveloped you, and you bit back a moan when his hand moved to your lower back and tugged the zipper up. After a beat, you turned to face him and were surprised by how close he was. His mouth curved into a smile as he looked down at you, hand resting on your waist. 

“You look fine, too,” he said softly. Your hands itched to move to his chest. Bradley’s eyes drifted to your lips, and your breath caught as his fingers flexed around you. If asked, you would have sworn you felt the lightest pressure pulling you closer - but then someone knocked on the door. Stepping out of his hold, you smoothed your hair down and ignored the brief moment his hands hung in suspension before being shoved back into his pockets. 

“I came early to see if you needed a hand,” Phoenix said when you opened the door. In her hands was a tray, and she’d also chosen a cocktail dress for the occasion. Her normally tied-back hair was loose around her shoulders. 

“Hey,” you smiled, hoping that you weren’t blushing. Nat’s eyes shifted over your shoulders and narrowed slightly. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Same as you - seeing of Duch needed help.”

“He’s been here all morning,” you blurted out, flushing when both sets of eyes landed on you. “He’s taking care of the turkey.” 

“The guy who hates cooking is in charge of the main dish?” Nat smirked. “Probably would have been better letting Hangman fry it.”

“He’s being supervised,” you assured, glancing over your shoulder to see him rolling his eyes. Stepping back to let Nat into the house, you accidentally bumped into Bradley, who held your hips to steady you. Quickly moving away from his touch, you took the tray from her and motioned for them to follow you into the kitchen. “I haven’t had a chance to put any drinks out, but there’s some coffee left and wine chilling. I still need to make the cocktails, but there’s also soda and flavored water.” The two followed you, exchanging a look that you missed.

As soon as he entered the kitchen, Bradley tossed his coat onto the wet bar and moved to the oven, flipping on the light to check the turkey before glancing at his watch. “I need to do the last basting, right?” 

“It’s about that time,” you agreed, glancing at the clock. Digging through a drawer, you pulled out an apron and put it on, crossing the strings behind your back before tying them in a bow across your stomach. You thought you heard a murmured ‘Jesus Christ’ when you turned around to see him holding the pot holders. 

You could feel Nat watching as you worked together to remove the turkey and then return it to the oven, popping olives into her mouth and smirking. “Looks like you guys have it down,” she said. “Don’t need my help at all.”

“Nope,” Bradley said, drowning out your, “You can feel free to relax.” 

“Might as well do something since I’m here,” she shrugged, pushing off her elbows. “What can I do?” 

And so, with a third set of hands, you set them to making large batches of seasonal cocktails while you cut the bread you’d made that morning, covering it with slices of brie and dried cranberries before drizzling it with honey. A quick scroll through your schedule gave you the times to start cooking, and you preheated the second oven.

The house slowly filled as more of the squad arrived. Countertops were quickly covered with their contributions - thankfully, more than beer and wine, and only a few sides repeated -  and you mentally shifted your schedule to accommodate the additional dishes.

Mav, Penny, and Amelia were the last to arrive, with her new bartender, Georgia, in tow. Penny had asked you if she could invite her, given that the woman was new to the area and didn’t have anywhere else to spend the holiday. You’d replied with, “The more, the merrier,” just like you had for everyone else’s requests to bring a guest. 

But you regretted that sentiment when you saw how she zeroed in on Bradley, staying close to him while you worked in the kitchen. The few times you broke away to mingle - showing off your renovated home, making sure that everyone’s glasses were topped off and that they didn’t need anything - you saw her hanging off his arm, giving him a simpering smile that set your teeth on edge. And, while she’d adhered to the dress code, you weren’t exactly thrilled to see that her breasts were nearly spilling out of her low-cut dress. 

“You need anything, Duchess?” Payback asked, setting down the pitcher of spiced ginger pear and bourbon. 

“I’m good,” you replied, wiping your hands on the dish rag thrown over your shoulder and blowing a loose strand of hair from your face. “Turkey should be done in a few minutes; once it rests, we can eat.” 

“Thanks for doing this,” he said, glancing over at your full house. Aviators were sprawled across your living room and spilled out into the backyard. It was exactly what you’d hoped for when redesigning the house - plenty of space to comfortably entertain. 

“I’m happy to, Payback,” you smiled, allowing him to pull you in for a hug. “Beats having a quiet house for the holidays.” 

“Want me to get the turkey out for you?” 

“I’ve got it covered,” a voice said behind you, and you couldn’t help but wonder about Bradley's slightly sharp tone as you pulled away from the hug. 

“Got it,” Payback replied, raising an eyebrow and lifting his hands. “Let me know if you need anything, Duch.” Squaring your shoulders, you turned to face the man behind you and forced a smile. 

“I’ll clear off a spot on the stove for you to put the pan, and then we’ll let it sit for half an hour.” 

“Then it’ll be done?”

“Then you’ll have officially made your first turkey,” you nodded. When the timer went off, Bradley quickly pulled the bird from the oven and set it on the stove, closely inspecting his work. 

“Does it look right?”

“Yes, relax.”

“Did you make it?” a smokey voice asked, and you felt your shoulders rise. Glancing at Georgia, you saw Bradley’s eyes dart between you.

“He did,” you answered, smiling at the woman. 

“I just followed her directions,” he replied. 

“It looks great!” Georgia giggled. Forcing a smile, you undid the apron strings and pulled it off before excusing yourself. You could feel eyes on you as you walked down the hallway to your bedroom and shut the door, retreating to your en suite.

After washing your hands for the millionth time, you quickly applied lotion while examining your appearance in the mirror. Compared to Georgia, you looked matronly with your hair pulled back and a higher neckline. Sure, your dress was classy - somewhat tight and falling just above your knees - but not attention-grabbing. 

Not that you were trying to grab anyone’s attention.

A knock on your bedroom door startled you, and you peeked out to call, “Who is it?”

“Rooster.” Glancing back in the mirror, you saw your cheeks were slightly pink and scowled at your reflection.

“Get it together,” you hissed before turning off the light and going to open the door. And there he was, smiling down at you.

“Your phone was going off,” he said, holding up your cell. When your eyes flitted toward it, the device unlocked to show your family group chat was going off. Taking it from him, you swiped up to see videos and pictures. A smile crept onto your mouth as you clicked the first and heard your older sister’s voice.

“Guess what?” she said before tossing a card down and throwing her hands up. Cheers and laughs broke out, and you could hear your nephew complaining as your grandmother said, “Looks like Mom won!”

The camera panned to show your other nephew licking whipped cream off his pie, utterly unfazed by the family now pounding on the table in a drumroll. Catching Bradley’s interested expression, you moved so he could see the screen. Scrolling through the other videos, you watched your mom roll down a hill with the boys and your dad holding a glass of wine with your brother-in-law. The sight made your heart clench, and you sighed. Being away from family on the holidays was the worst. Thankfully, they all understood that your job didn’t always give you the flexibility to be with them.

“Looks like a fun group.”

“They are. I’m glad I get to spend Christmas with them.” He nodded, a flicker of sadness and something else in his eyes. “What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Mav’s already told me I’m spending it with him and Penny.”

“Sounds like fun.” You knew a complicated dynamic existed there but didn’t want to pry. His shoulder lifted, eyes drifting to your now dark phone. And that’s when you recognized the look on his face - longing. “Hey, you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” When he saw your unconvinced expression, he sighed. “Holidays kind of suck when you don’t have family.” 

“I’m sorry, Bradley.” Something in his expression changed when you said his name and reached out to touch his arm. His eyes darted from your hand to your face, and you quickly pulled away. But he was faster, catching your fingers and holding tightly. Your breath caught with the intensity of his gaze, and he stepped into your room. His breath was warm on your face when you refused to retreat. Lifting your chin, you saw his throat bob when he swallowed.  

“Hey, there’s a timer going off,” Bob called down the hall. 

“Be right there,” you yelled back, pushing lightly against Bradley’s chest and forcing space between you. But when you tried to shake off his hand, he held fast. “I need to go, or something will burn,” you breathed. Reluctantly, he nodded and released you. 

You’d already removed the green bean casserole and macaroni and cheese from the oven when Bradley reappeared. Unsurprisingly, Georgia glued herself to his side as he sipped his drink. Though you could feel him looking at you, you refused to meet his gaze. 

When everything was ready, you looked over your kitchen and nodded approvingly. When the guys offered to carve the turkey, you turned them all down and delegated that task to Bradley.  “He earned it,” you said, glancing at him before busying yourself with opening another bottle of wine. With Coyote and Fanboy at his elbows critiquing his cuts, you steered clear of that part of the kitchen and chatted with Penny while pulling out silverware. 

Hangman refused to let you go around the room and tell people that food was ready, instead pulling out a chair and helping you stand on it before whistling loudly to get everyone’s attention. “Dinner’s served!” you said, placing a hand on his shoulder, his arm around your hips to keep you steady. “Thank you for bringing something, and please help yourself. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone - I’m glad I get to spend it with you.” Lifting your wine glass, you took a quick sip and laughed when Hangman lifted you off the chair to set you back on the floor. 

Choosing to wait until your guests had a plate, you leaned against the wet bar and smiled tiredly, watching your hard work be devoured. There weren’t enough chairs for everyone at the table, so the group spread into the living room. You took a few pictures and sent them to your family. 

Someone stepped in front of you, pulling your attention from your phone. “You’re not gonna eat?” Bradley asked. 

“Just waiting for the line to clear,” you replied, forcing a nonchalant tone. The corner of his mouth twitched as he shook his head. 

“Come on, Duch.” His fingers curled around yours, drawing you from the counter and into the line. Grabbing one of the smaller salad plates, you let him push you in front of him, taking small amounts of almost every dish while he served himself larger portions. After topping up your wine, you walked to the living room and felt him behind you, ignoring Georgia's attempt to get his attention. He motioned for you to take the last spot on the couch and sat on the floor. “Jesus,” he moaned after taking the first bite of turkey.

“Mmmm,” you agreed. “You did a good job.”

“Who would have thought the guy who made the barracks evacuate after he burned ramen would make a good turkey,” Nat smirked. Bradley flipped her off, unable to keep the proud grin off his face. 

Dessert was eaten, and the last bottle of wine finished before 7:00 PM. The house felt quiet as it slowly emptied, and you hugged everyone goodbye. Already, tentative plans for a Christmas party formed even as you fought off a yawn. After assuring Penny that you were fine cleaning up, she left with Mav and Amelia in tow. 

Which left only Bradley. 

The sound of running water drew you back into the kitchen, and you paused in the doorway at the sight of him rinsing silverware and loading the dishwasher, a hand towel thrown over his shoulder. “I can take care of that,” you said quickly. Bradley glanced at you and shook his head.

“Relax, I’ve got it. Can the plates go in here, or do they need to be hand-washed?”

“They can go in there.” Ignoring the order, you walked around the house, picked up empty glasses and forgotten dishes, and set them by the sink. Donning your apron, you surveyed the leftovers, “Did you want any of this?”

“Yeah, I’ll take a plate.” Nodding, you started to put the food away. Thankfully, there wasn’t a lot left. Everyone had been happy to take leftovers, and you were glad you’d had the forethought to buy containers for them to keep. 

The silence was comfortable, and you were stifling yawns with the back of your hand. Between the turkey, wine, and lack of sleep the night before, you were ready to change back into comfy clothes and pass out. Without prompting, Bradley started to cut up what was left of the turkey, placing some in the containers you’d portioned for him before putting the rest in the fridge. You started the dishwasher when it was full and wiped down counters. After tossing the rest of the turkey, he took the trash out.

When the door swung shut, you took the opportunity to stretch, moaning when your back popped before bending at the waist and letting your arms dangle. As much as you enjoyed hosting, your body took a beating, being on your feet all day. You would definitely need to invest in some mats to make the kitchen floor more comfortable before your next full day of cooking. 

Even when the door opened, you felt too good stretching to stand up straight. You heard Bradley chuckle and then the sound of water running, followed by the snap of a trashbag being shaken out. Finally, you stood and threw out a hand to steady yourself when the world spun. Hands wrapped around your hips and drew you closer. “You okay, honey?” 

The term of endearment caught you off-guard and had clearly slipped out by the flush on Bradley’s cheeks. “Honey?” you echoed, quirking a brow.

“Duchess,” he corrected. 

“Rooster.” Your hands rested on his forearms, feeling the muscles flex as his fingers clenched around your hips. Taking a deep breath, you felt your chest brush his. His lips quirked into a wry smile. “What?” 

“Just waiting for something to interrupt.” At your questioning look, he chuckled. “Been trying to kiss you all day, and something always gets in the way.” 

“What?” you breathed, shock written across your face. 

“Been thinkin’ about kissing you since that night at the Hard Deck, actually.” 

“T-the Hard Deck?”

“Yup. Before you deployed.” Heat rushed to your face at the memory - or lack thereof - of your going away party. There had been one too many shots, and you had a vague recollection of Bradley driving the Bronco. Of him telling you not to throw up while he helped Nat into her apartment before taking you home. Half carrying you to bed and making sure you had water and medicine - warm hands on your face and a raspy laugh.  

“When I was drunk?”

“When you told me you liked me.” Mortified, you felt a sudden flush of heat and tried to pull away, but he held firm. “But that you didn’t think I was a relationship guy.” 

“Roo - ”

“I am. A relationship guy,” he clarified, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “For the right woman.” Your mouth was dry, unable to force out a single word. “I was gonna say something before you left, but you avoided me. And then you were gone for three months.”

“I… you messaged me.” 

“Wasn’t exactly something I wanted to say over email,” Bradley chuckled. “I like you too.” 

“What about Georgia?”

That drew him up short, and a confused look crossed his face. “The bartender?” 

“Yeah. She… I mean, she’s clearly interested. And more your type.” Groaning, he leaned down to rest his forehead on yours.

“Honey, I’m not interested in her. And she’s not… ask Nat. She’s been on my case about my” - he lifted a hand to make air quotes - “‘hoe phase’ since I got out here.” That drew a snort from you, and Bradley pulled away to smile at you bashfully. “Gimme a chance, Duch.” 

Hesitating a moment, you took another deep breath and gave the butterflies in your stomach free rein. Hands shaking, you wrapped your arms around his neck and nodded, unable to keep from matching his smile. 

Moving slowly, as though afraid to spook you, Bradley leaned down and brushed his nose to yours. “As much as this is doin’ things for me,” he said softly, pulling at the apron strings tied at your stomach, “I think we’re done in the kitchen tonight.” Biting your lip, you could only nod, leaning away as he tugged it over your head, balled the apron up, and tossed it behind you. With his hands back on your hips, he walked you backward and lifted you onto the counter, stepping between your knees. “This alright?” 

“Yeah,” you whispered, allowing yourself to reach out and run a hand through his curls. Bradley's eyes closed when you lightly scratched his scalp, and he swayed closer. His breath ghosted over your lips and - 

“Fucking Christ,” he groaned when his phone started to buzz. You jumped, feeling the vibration against your shin, and laughed as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck. Your breath caught, feeling his lips on your throat. When he reached into his pocket and scowled down at the screen, you saw Nat’s name before he sent the call to voicemail. 

Leaving the phone on the counter, he smirked and guided your legs around his waist as your arms went around his neck. His hands cupped your ass as he lifted you. In the doorway to the kitchen, he paused long enough for you to slap the walls until the lights turned off before walking toward the couch and lowering himself onto it. Your knees dug into the cushion on either side of him, forcing the hem of your dress higher. 

From this angle, he had to look up at you. Hands migrated from your ass to thighs, callouses lightly scraping and fingertips darting under the fabric to trace shapes on your skin and drag the hem higher. Lightly, you ran your thumb along the scars on his chin before ghosting over the ones on his cheek that had always intrigued you. A moan rumbled from his throat as he followed your touch, mustache tickling the delicate skin of your wrist. Blushing, you wondered how it would feel on your inner thighs. He chuckled, kissing your cheek, “What’re you thinking that’s got you red?” 

Rather than answer, you turned and kissed him - just a light brush of your lips against his that seemed to catch him off-guard. You stared at one another for a long moment until he guided you closer. His mustache prickled, not unpleasantly but different, when he kissed you again. It was sweet and unhurried, a direct contradiction to the hardness you felt straining against his zipper. 

Pulling away, you smiled tentatively down at him, seeing the remnants of your lipstick on his mouth. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and you leaned forward to press your lips to them. “Hi,” you said softly.

“Hey.” 

“You like me?” 

“Yeah. You like me?” 

Rather than reply, you captured his lips again. “Drunk words,” you said between kisses, “are sober thoughts.” He barked a laugh before tugging you closer and licking into your mouth. 

“Shoulda said something earlier,” he chided, gripping your ass tightly. “Coulda been doing this for a long time.” 

“Blame the tequila.” The word came out as a moan when he trailed kisses down your neck, and you felt him smile. 

“Thank god for tequila,” he mumbled, nuzzling your breasts and making you grind down on him. Bradley caught your hands when your fingers trailed down his chest to tug at his shirt. “Nuh-uh, honey. Gonna take you on a couple of dates before we get to that.”

“What?” 

“No more ‘hoe phase.’” 

“Maybe just one more night?” That made him laugh again as he shook his head.

“No, Duch. Wanna do this right with you.” 

“I’ve heard the stories. I know you would.” When you rocked against him, he pinned your hand at your lower back and stilled you with a hand on your hip. He growled your name and smirked when your thighs clenched.

“Liked that, huh?” he teased. “Ms. Prim and Proper Duchess likes to be bossed around?” Heat flooded your face, and he chuckled again. Without warning, he stood, and you squeaked, trying to keep from falling. But he held you steady and set you on your feet, towering over you. “Can I stay over?” You didn’t hesitate in nodding, and his kiss was rough before he pulled away and swatted your ass. “Go get ready for bed while I lock up.” 

When you emerged from the bathroom, face cleaned and in your panties and a tank top, Bradley was lying in the middle of your bed in just his boxers. Groaning, he looked at you and shook his head. “Where are those sweats from this morning?” 

“You want me to wear sweats to bed?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe and raising an eyebrow. His hand drifted down to his hard cock, squeezing lightly. “You’ve seen me in less at the beach.”

“Trying to do this right, honey.” Rolling your eyes, you walked to your dresser and pulled on sweatpants before digging out a pair of fuzzy socks. He laughed when you tossed them at his head, setting them aside as you circled the bed to lie beside him. Quickly, he pinned you beneath him, settling in the cradle of your thighs. As he licked into your mouth, you felt his hips rolling against yours. “Still too damn sexy,” he murmured against your lips. 

“Housewife lingerie does it for you?” you teased, running your hands through his hair. Rather than answer, he looped an arm under your knee and drew it up, allowing you to feel him better. “Fuck.”

“Not tonight.” 

And, unfortunately, he was true to his word. Anytime your hands strayed to his boxers, he pinned them over your head, seemingly content to tease and kiss all night. 

Eventually, though, you could no longer keep from yawning. After setting his alarm - Bradley was on duty in the morning while you’d taken the day off - he tucked you against him, your back to his chest. His cock pressed against your ass as he kissed your shoulder, hand slipping under your shirt to brush the underside of your breast. Sighing, he murmered, “Best Thanksgiving I’ve had in a long time.” 

You couldn’t help but agree.

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

Author's Note: Do I think that Bradley has a raging domesticity kink? Possibly.

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[willowpains]

me jalo

drew starkey x latina actress reader!

*if y’all haven’t seen this trend, just search “me jalo trend” on TikTok for context*

Of course you were dragging Drew to make a new TikTok trend with you.

Who were you if not the chronically online actress that kept the internet fed with content?

This time, it was just a little different.

No pranks.

Instead, a dance trend.

A very sweet and romantic one you would call.

One that nonetheless, took A LOT of convincing to get your boyfriend to accept.

The people would not believe how hard it was to get Drew to participate in anything that involved the internet culture.

He could be a little grandpa sometimes.

But you still loved your boyfriend and his millennial hatred towards TikTok.

He had finally given up as he knew this one probably meant a lot to you.

It was a trend with a song in spanish.

A regional mexicano/reggeaton song.

Drew knew how much you valued and loved embracing your culture, plus sharing your roots with the world, something you were very passionate in doing since you had the platform and the opportunities.

So how could he say no?

That’s how you found yourselves ready to film, on the street, during your walk back home from a coffe date.

Your phone stuck to the window of a closed boutique, trusting that your octobuddy would protect and hold the weight of your phone while you two filmed.

Standing on the side walk, in front of your phone, where your whole body was visible on the screen, you started lip syncing to the sticky and vibey words of the mexican regional song.

mamita tú me encantas, solo dime que tranza

You stared at yourself through the screen, as you moved your arms and acted like you were singing your heart out, pointing to the screen and touching your heart dramatically.

que yo me voy pa allá, me voy pa allá

With a huge smile on your face while singing, you started moving back to the beat of the song, as if you were pulling someone towards you with an invisible thread, as the Drew’s body appeared from the side on the screen, with a cheeky smile the camera could capture, moving towards you, shimmying his shoulders as only he could.

me dices ven pa acá, vente pa acá

With a huge grin on your face, you now moved towards him, as you both now did the dance move the other had done previously. He moved backwards to the beat of the song as he pulled you in with the invisible thread, as you shimmied your shoulders forward towards him as you swayed your hips and continued lip syncing the song, your eyes never leaving his.

y ahí te voy pa allá, me voy pa allá

You pulled Drew’s hand so you two stood now in the middle of the frame, as you continued moving your body to the rhythm of the song while singing the lyrics, your boyfriends arms wrapping around your waist and placing a huge kiss on your cheek making you laugh.

bien desvelado, pero le caigo

Your boyfriend pulled you body off the floor, picking you up in his arms and sticking his tongue out towards the camera, walking with you bridal style away from the camera, making you unable to finish lip syncing the song, and the video cutting off as Drew walked away with you on his arms, both laughing your asses off.

After being put down on the floor by your lovely boyfriend, you come back running for your phone, still laughing, trying to pull off your sticky phone case from the window.

“That was not planned!” you scream out laughing at Drew, who was doubled in laughter behind you, watching you struggle with your phone.

He chuckled, walking towards you and placing his hands on your hips in a loving gesture.

That man couldn’t live without touching you for more than 5 seconds.

“I got nervous and decided to run away” he said, a smile on his face.

You turned to face him, finally pulling your phone with its sticky case off the window.

“My little camera shy boyfriend” you say, leaning in to kiss him as he groaned against your lips, hating the teasing.

Once again, with your charm and loving tricks, you had gotten your way.

And it wouldn’t be the last time.

…

you can read about the fan reactions to this TikTok here!!!

I LOVED this ask!!!

sign me up for any lovey dovey short blurbs between mis protegidos<3

this was written in like 30 minutes, under a strike of motivation that I couldn’t ignore, so I’m sorry if there are any mistakes

I hope you all like it<3 feel free to send requests, I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try to put out more short stuff!

[brights-place]

hello! could you do headcanons for a "older sister reader" (maybe like a teenager next door?) for Riley, Huey and Jazmine from the Boondocks?

[BOONDOCKS] Boondocks & Older sister!Reader Warnings: Fluff, Fights, Swearing

A/N: YAYYY BOONDOCKS! this is my first request for it because nobody actually requests for it plus I don't know if the fandoms even that big as it was

Summary: The boondocks with a new neighbor beside them who seems to be too kind for her own good that helps the boondocks out especially Riley, Huey, and Jazmine the most.

- Let’s be honest it would obvs play out the same like the mother figure one that I wrote

- Jazmine out of everybody was excited to have a neighbour who was a teenager and someone who acted as a older sister finally!

- Huey would stare at you with squinted eyes beside Riley who would wave you off spouting some things about you even though he has never met you yet

- You would of met Jazmine first since her and her family came to visit and help you guys out which was nice of time too do and Jazmine was helping you place boxes in your room and the girl eyes sparkled when she saw you had some stuffed animals - You gave her one as a thanks and she was so excited so now she has it with her every now and then she loves it - Grandpa was happy that your family invited people in the neighborhood to meet them and oh how you had to deal with not only a happy Jazmine but Huey and Riley were staring you down - Uncle Ruckus keeps on saying the most unhinged shit which you would grimace at and ask the kids if this was normal which it was... for some reason - Next thing you know you were sitting at a table staring at Huey who was rambling to you and you learnt from Riley that Huey - Huey was staring you down and trying to find your motives but his interest was sparked when you asked him about his point of view of things - Huey is a highly intelligent 10-year-old boy that for some reason is a terrorist - His cynicism often touches upon subjects such as politics, religion, the media, businesses and corporations, African-American culture, and American society as a whole. Tending to be obstinate in both manner and speech the kid is 10 and he is doing all this - So when he had someone who actually listened to him about all this asking him questions and smiling at him about his interests while also sharing your own even if they had no relation he wouldn't admit was nice that someone gets his point of view but you did fuss over him getting hurt yet your relationship was still in the works though he was still suspicious of you - Riley kept on flexing stating how he's a gangsta and a thing you pick up was his influenced by the mass media via rap music and television, he frequently uses poor grammar and tends to defend his idols even when his imitations go against common sense and righteousness which you had to point out wasn't exactly good yet he was quick to defend himself and lash out on you - Jazmine though liked to hang around you happily the whole time asking you more questions and was happy that you'd hang with her hell at the greeting party you braided her hair and did different styles which became normal - You end up being able to be around them more due to grandpa and Jazmines parents hanging around them and pestering them - You pester riley for hurting himself as he denies being cared for by you but every now and then he awkwardly comes up to you when your alone and would bother you - Either will judge or enjoy your taste of music he sometimes likes stealing your jewelry by stealing you watch him take it and giggle as if he succeeded on robbing you - You even helped him style a new outfit and he was super proud of it and high fived you before showing it off to huey - You somehow even got on huey's goodside as he lets you help with his experiments yet he gets annoyed that you worry over him yet he can't help but enjoy having a older sister take care of him - Jazmine and you play dress up as you help the girl around and smile at how she was giggling happily that she got to hang out with you - When Huey and Riley were fighting and grandpa wasn't there you smacked the both of them in the back of their heads and told them off which they tried to retaliate at but shut up quickly when they saw you holding up a slipper - When you aren't there and are out of the room for the fights chaos is struck before you come back and see the house a mess you knew the two were gonna get a huge beating from grandpa but you forcing them to not only clean it up but telling them your gonna an even worse beating then grandpa - Jazmine was just beside you trying not to laugh at how you switch up around them all - You became an older sister figure that somehow seemed to stay even when you moved into the neighbourghood for good

[reclinepilled]

coffee beans

cw: nothing other than language and cheesiness 😭 no fem/masc reader, completely up to you.

desc: barista!ellie hates her job until a cute customer catches her eye and jesse helps her out

a/n: this is my first post, i didn’t lnow wjat to write so i kinda just blurted something out so sorry if this is bad😓 this is extremely cheesy as well, but i like that stuff! i love feedback (not rude) as well <3 also none of the dividers i use are mine, except for the solid colored ones. ill have to find the creator of the really cute ones.. other than that enjoy! <3333 reblogs are welcomed

wc: 1k

PLEASE READ HERE TO HELP PALESTINE.

working in a busy coffee shop, full of bright colors, with people all around, posing for their hopefully viral posts, wasn’t exactly ellie’s “dream job”. the hordes of people that came in during the winter should be illegal. she’d rather be helping people find vinyl’s they’d been searching the markets for, or maybe starting a band straight out of joel’s garage with her close group of friends.

though, she became accustomed to being here. whatever helped her with the stressful expenses she has to pay as a college student.

she rang up the same order that had gained popularity on some app, which felt like the millionth time today. she lets out a sigh, not even looking up, “your total will be 17.20, cash or card?”

“card, please,” your eager voice responds to an unamused barista. that’s when ellie actually looks up. she scans your features, adorned in a little snow, immediately taken aback. her saying you were gorgeous would be an understatement.

she took in your radiant skin, under the annoying glow of the menus above the prep area behind her. and your eyes. they were so captivating and comforting. the way they were all doe made her heart flutter a little, she swears.

you were a lot different than the other girls that came into the shop, all carbon copies of each other. it made her question reality honestly. however, you were different in every aspect. from your style to your energy, she just had to have you.

“o-of course, just tap it here,” ellie clears her throat and spins the payment machine around, looking up at you. you follow her instructions as you notice her hands. they we’re slender and looked fairly cold but so soft, you thought. her short, messy hair was charming. her style that made her look like someone’s grandpa was also very attractive, for some odd reason you felt like a creep being attracted to a worker, who looks like she very much hates her job as is.

“thank you. your order will be done shortly, pretty,” ellie says flashing you a smile. you blink a couple of times, malfunctioning from a compliment you hear quite often. you smile and nod, feeling your face heat up.

as ellie watches you walk off, she jogs to the kitchen in the back. “jesse?” ellie looks around looking for him. “i’m over here ellie, what’s up?” he looks up at her from a drink he was crafting. “can i take out this order please?” ellie shows him the freshly printed receipt. “less work for me? sure,” he says as he continues to to make one of the orders. “yesss,” ellie grabs your order off of the counter next to jesse and heads out of the kitchen.

now taking a seat at booth far off in the corner, you take off your tote bag and rip off your scarf. you look out of the window next to the comfy booth, in awe of the snow falling so gracefully. your attention was stolen by the outside environment, until you felt the presence of someone walking over. you quickly snap your head to the culprit. that culprit being the barista holding your order.

“it’s finished already?” you say, surprised. “well, you could say that..” ellie hands your order over, that had actually been for someone else who ordered before you. she was just really eager to just talk to you. your eyes lit up excitedly, she found that really cute. you take a sip happily.

“your shirt,” you say looking at her torso, “i love that band so much, even though they are newer. their music is very different,” you say, now looking back up at her. “yea, i totally agree,” ellie awkwardly leans on the booth seat opposite to you. truth is, ellie had no idea who this band was. it was just a random shirt she picked up from walmart, honestly.

“um anyways, i like your outfit. not everyday i see someone as stylish as you,” she motions to your cute leg warmers. “really? thank you,” you sort of giggle as you say that. ellie found that cute too, she was so far in.

what ellie thought was going smoothly and definitely not awkward, was interrupted by her coworker.

“ellie, wrap it up. i can’t be working in the back and working the register,” a man with a wolfy haircut says as he grabs ellie’s shoulder.

“jesse, fuck off. i am clearly preoccupied,” ellie’s demeanor quickly changes as she rolls her eyes, turning to him. jesse grabs his heart, looking offended. he was obviously being sarcastic. “i just blessed you and you’re cursing me out?”

“yo- you didn’t bless me.. i’m helping you”

“want me to help you and speed this up?” jesse pulls out a notepad from his tool pouch, hastily writing something down. you hold back from letting out a boisterous laugh from their interaction.

“jesse, the hell are you writing,” she says through gritted teeth, clearly embarrassed. ellie tries to read what he’s written, but jesse is already ripping it out handing you the paper. “jesse, just stop, she’s already paid!” ellie’s eyes widen with anger from annoyance.

“yea i’ve-“ jesse cuts you off, “don’t worry, just read it,” he flashes you a quick smile as he walks back to the counter.

you read the paper as you slowly smile, then you look up at ellie. you hand her the paper. ellies face immediately turns all fifty shades of red. “god, i hate him sometimes. he’s so.. childish,” ellie says as she balls the paper up, looking away to hide her embarrassment.

“don’t worry, i find you cute too,” you say smiling, looking into her beautiful, jade eyes. ellie laughs awkwardly, inhaling while fixing her posture. she takes a seat opposite of you, “so would you like to go somewhere later, like.. i-i don’t know,” she trails off. “just give me your number and we could talk about it later,” you say while looking at her nervous composure.

“cool,” she looks at you as well, finally relaxing for once. she writes down her number on a napkin that was left on the table and hands it to you. “i’ll see you soon then?” you say, watching her stand from the booth.

“definitely,” flashing you a smirk as she jogs back over to the register.

reclinepilled

please do not plagiarize any of my works or post them on other websites without given permission !

[briarpatch-kids]

are you willing to talk about your experience gardening while disabled? i have different support needs and limitations than you, but i have no idea how to navigate pain, fatigue, and limited mobility (wheelchair user) and still care for plants (and even associated tasks like canning or otherwise preserving your harvest). it's something i've always wanted to do but always felt was surely impossible for me. if specific details about my situation would help i can provide them! i'm just in such awe of the work you share on here and i'd love some ideas of what i might want to try to work towards.

Thank you so much! Here's a lot of what I've learned over the past 8 years or so. I went from using a cane to a walker to a wheelchair to a powerchair so I've had a lot of varied experience.

I've found doing it in a powerchair makes things MUCH easier, but I also did it in a manual chair. You can get shorter handled shovels (go from the ground to your shoulder in the chair for measuring handle height) and that helps a lot, as does a hori hori style garden knife. Sometimes I get like, children's hoes and tools so I can use them easier. I can still move my legs, so I kinda stomp on the shovel while still sitting in my chair to dig. I'm trying out a tool called "grandpa's weeder" this year to see if it can weed better than the garden knife. Sometimes, I use my powerchair to add extra leverage to digging by driving forward with my shovel in the soil. I use my footplate to carry things like bags of compost or tools.

A lot of my physical therapy tasks focus on keeping the bend over and sit back up skill because I don't do the tall raised beds, the tallest i have are the four 12 inch high raised beds in the back. I generally make sure I have three feet MINIMUM between garden beds, four in spots I might want to turn around in.

A three foot wide bed is generally the best width for me reach wise. Most of my pathways are packed soil, but that's a little harder in a manual chair, if you can get pavers put in it's a lot nicer. If you have a manual chair, the wider casters are better for this.

Go SLOW. My big garden is the culmination of like... 8 years of work. I generally do less than an hour of work a day MAX. A lot of times when it's not prep and planting season (about two months in the spring and one or two in the fall if you want to dig a new bed) there isn't much more than 10 to 15 a day of pulling the odd weed and harvesting. If you are gardening in both the front and back yards, get one hose for watering each side or you'll suffer. Dragging hoses is literally the hardest part for me. Planting perennials (plants that grow year after year instead of just one or two years) works really good because once they're in, they're in, and don't need much maintenance beyond a winter haircut or pruning.

If you're ambulatory and capable of it, consider a rollator for gardening or one of those garden carts if possible. You can also get these cool little stools that come with taller handles to help you stand back up. I used to be able to sit on my walker and plant and bed prep so easily when it was just my four little raised beds in the back. That was so much easier than hauling my ass around the dirt in a manual chair. If you are not ambulatory or barely ambulatory, I would recommend only gardening when someone else is home and able to rescue you if need be because I've gotten stuck a couple times lmao. If your wrists and hands are weak, there are adaptive gardening tools you can get to help out, like gloves that you can basically velcro a tool into for weak grip or tools with like a brace that goes against your arm.

[runningincircl3s]

Nothing Ever After

Chapter 5

chapter warnings: alcohol, guys being dudes

this was one of my favourite chapters to write :) also we finally get around to mr chenzo mauro coming into the story…

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The hotel room smelled strongly of perfume as you were getting ready for your first night out in years, leaning in towards the lit up bathroom mirror as you touched up your lip gloss, catching Noah watching you from his bed, before he asked you to change the song that had come on next on your phone, which happened to be ain’t it fun by Paramore.

You were surprised that last night didn’t cause an awkward atmosphere between the two of you, not that it should have, so you didn’t dare bring up the pet name drop. Noah spent the day with Matt and Nicholas moving their equipment into the venue for tomorrow night, joined by some of the Motionless guys whilst you explored the city with Bryan, Nick and Jolly. 

“I can’t believe you’re not coming too.” You pouted, catching Noah’s eye in the mirror. You had gotten into an argument earlier this evening about going out, Noah had told you that you were here on this tour to work, but you countered that by saying you’re not exactly working until tomorrow, and he seemed to have nothing to say to that.

“My partying days are long gone, I can just about tolerate album releases or birthdays now.” 

“Okay, grandpa!” You teased, making him raise his eyebrows.

“Hey, I'm only 2 years older than you! Just find out how old Ryan and Vin are before you call me grandpa, sweetheart.” He placed a hand on his hip, making you chuckle. 

“Maybe I will.” You smirked, checking the time on your phone before turning the bathroom light off and sitting at the end of Noah’s bed. 

“You look nice.” Noah said, dropping the sassy act as he sat up, making your cheeks flush red. But you brushed it off.

“Thank you.” You smiled, trying not to show just how flustered that comment made you. “Folio said we’re getting an uber there at 10 so I better go and meet him.” 

Noah nodded his head. 

“Stay safe, okay? I know you’ll be with the guys and I trust them, but be careful, watch your drink.”

“I appreciate your concern but I’m an adult, Noah. I can look after myself. I’ll see you when I get back.” You said with a smile and a little wave as you left the hotel room and headed down to meet up with Bryan and Nick. 

“Wow!” Nick’s eyes widened, sitting up in the arm chair he had sunk into, “you look… amazing!” 

“Thanks Folio.” You smiled, doing a twirl, showing off the outfit you rushed to buy whilst you were in the city this afternoon. 

“Please! I’d usually have my friends to help me pick an outfit but they’re in a completely different time zone right now and I need someone to tell me if it sucks!” You pleaded with Nick, Bryan and Jolly to come in the store with you. 

Your begging seemed to have worked as they eventually gave in and followed you through the store as you picked out some items before putting them back to swap for others. Eventually, with the help of the three guys, you found what you thought was a perfect outfit, exactly your style and you went into the changing room cubicle to try it on. 

As you walked out the guys cheered, you were almost certain it wasn’t for the outfit choice but the fact it meant you could leave the store and get pizza. 

“I still think it would look better on me.” Jolly snickered on the way out of the store, and you hit him with the bag. 

“What did Noah think of it?” Folio wiggled his eyebrows and you looked at him, confused at what he meant by that.

“I think he liked it, why?” 

“Oh, no reason…” He smiled, before adding, “He wasn’t in the store with us earlier, he didn’t get to see it when we did!”

You ignored him as you made your way out to wait for the uber.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Once you had gotten into the club, you met up with Ryan and Vinny. Bryan offered to get drinks for you all, but Ryan insisted he got the first round, and you all followed him to the bar. 

“Think you’ll find anyone to take back to your room tonight?” You heard Ryan say to Vin, a teasing tone in his voice. 

“Nah, not tonight, man. I just want to get up there and DJ again.” 

“Go and ask,” Folio laughed, “The worst they can say is no and turn you away.” 

“Now that is a good point.” Vinny pointed a finger at Nick, “If you guys can’t find me I’ll be up there fucking it up!” 

"Go Vin!" Ryan laughed as Vinny found his way to the stage.

Bryan passed you your drink, you weren’t too sure what to get so you played it safe with a vodka redbull as the guys all had some kind of whiskey or beer.

Nick and Bryan were having a conversation, so you decided you'd take this as an opportunity to get to know Ryan.

"So how long have been in the band?" You asked, taking a sip of your drink.

"Too long," he chuckled, "I think it's been about 16 years now."

"Really?" You gasped, "how long have you guys been going? I had no idea it's been that long?"

"Twenty years, but Chris is the only one who's been here since the beginning, we haven't found a replacement for him yet." He laughed, taking a sip of his beer.

"So you guys all replaced the originals?"

"Well I wouldn't word it like that," he said, "I joined in 2008 and then Rick joined a year later, we've had Vin since 2014 and we aquired Justin five years ago, I think... I can't remember." He laughs. "I'll spare you the details of all the others, so how long have you been doing photography?"

"Since I was in school," you say, watching as Nick and Bryan began walking over to you two, "I'd say it's almost been 13 years now."

Nick changed the subject and the four of you began talking, until Ryan and Bryan went back to the bar for another drink. As you waited for them to come back, you and Folio just stood about, people-watching.

“So,” Folio said, “you said you haven’t had a night out in a while, how you feeling?”

“I don’t know if I’m just getting older but it seems a lot… different from what I remember.” 

“Yeah, the music's gotten worse that's for sure.” He laughed. 

As Nick said that, the song suddenly switched up and all of a sudden return of the mack started playing. 

“I guess they let Vinny DJ after all.” Ryan shouted over to you two. 

“It’s like he has this magic power that lets him get whatever he wants, I was almost certain they wouldn’t let him up there.” Nick laughed. “Anyway, I need to ask you something.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows and took a sip of your drink. 

“Okay… Go ahead.”

“You and Noah… I’ve kept it a secret but I saw you guys in the pool back home, I’ve seen the way he looks at you and the way you look at him-” 

“Nick, what are you talking about?”

“I’m just telling you to go for it! It’s clear you guys are into each other, and it's the perfect time now you're both sharing a room... it just makes sense.” 

“Yeah but let's say I do, and what if it backfires? What if he doesn’t feel the same way and I have to spend the next few months living in hell, having to be around him every minute of every day, I'd rather pack my bags and go home now!” 

“So you do like him!” Nick shouted, overjoyed for some reason you didn’t understand, it was like he knew something you didn't.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying-” 

“That is what you just said, the same way, what else would that mean?” 

“Why do you care so much? We’re best off as just friends whilst we’re on tour anyway.”

“I care because I love him, and you, y/n. I just want to see my friends happy!” 

“What’s going on?” Bryan asks as he joins you with Ryan by his side. 

“Y/n admitted it! She has feelings for Noah!” 

“I didn't! I fucking hate you guys. I just wanted to come out and have fun tonight and this is what I get instead?” 

“Hey, me and Bry haven’t even done anything.” Ryan defended the two of them, but it was too late, you’d gone. 

You wouldn’t act like you didn’t spot the guy staring at you as you talked to Nick, and so you decided to prove a point, that you didn’t have feelings for Noah, and walked straight over to him. 

The song suddenly changed again, and you moved to the beat as you approached this guy, he was also pretty hot so it’s not like you’d have to fake how much you were into him. He was pretty tall, you could see a few tattoos on his arms, his eyes looked a chocolate brown, he had brown stubble for a beard which matched his hair and he almost resembled Ben Barnes.

"What's your name?" He asked, his hand sliding to your waist.

"Y/n!" You give him a smile, which he returns.

"I'm Max."

He asked if you wanted another drink, and so you told him you’d have a strawberry daiquiri. You kept looking over at Folio every now and again, who kept his eye on you up until the moment you moved in to kiss Max, your hand on his cheek as you stood on your tiptoes- when someone bumped into you, making you spill your drink over yourself.

“What the f- Vinny?” 

“Shit, I.. I am so sorry, oh my… How do I...” 

Neither of you knew what to do, so you both stood completely still, and Max laughed before wandering off to another girl. 

“Fuck, let me help you clean up, where’s the bathrooms?”

"Over there?"

You both walked off in the direction the sign pointed in, although it happened to be the mens bathroom. However, since there was nobody in there you didn't care, rushing to the sink.

You looked in the mirror to see your top had a massive red stain, as Vinny gathered some tissues to help wipe the mess up. 

“I look fucking stupid!” You groaned, to which Vinny apologised once more. 

He began to wipe your top as you worked on wringing it out of your hair which it had also gotten on to, beginning to laugh at how ridiculous this situation is. However, when Vinny suddenly noticed he was wiping your boob and you didn't appear to be wearing a bra, he felt a rush go through his body and his hands froze momentarily. 

“We haven’t even been properly introduced yet, I’m so sorry this is how it had to be.” You chuckled, taking a couple tissues from the counter and taking over from him as he stepped back. 

“It’s okay,” he smiled, “so you’re y/n? Our temporary photographer, right?” He asked, properly taking in how you looked for the first time as you desperately scrubbed at your top.

“That’s right, and you’re a DJ?” You smirked. 

“I was for about five minutes before they kicked me off! They saw the song I was about to play next and I guess they just didn’t have taste.”

You laughed, wondering what it could’ve been, still wiping at your top. 

“Is it coming off?” He asked, feeling bad as he watched as you shook your head. 

“Y’know I might just go back to the hotel-”

“Hey, no! Don’t let your night be over just because of me.”

“It’s not that, I just don’t feel like it tonight, I'm not having fun like I used to.” You sighed, “plus my outfits ruined.” 

You could tell Vinny was about to apologise again, but he stopped himself and instead he suddenly took his sweater off, and handed it over to you. 

“I was wondering where this was about to go…” You smirk as you take it from him and turn around, you couldn’t help but melt slightly at the smell of as you slipped it over your head. 

“I mean… I haven’t fucked in a club bathroom for about 8 years but if-” You threw your wet top at him to shut him up as you turn back around. 

“You at least owe me another drink first.” You chuckle, fixing the black and brown striped sweater in the mirror. “How do I look?” 

“Cute,” he says, “it goes with your skirt.” He points out, and you smile as you realise he’s right. “So what are you drinking?”

You take your ruined top back from him, and you can’t help but notice how his arm flexed, and how his hands looked, and the rings on his fingers… it was all too much, you had only just met him! You tried to keep all your thoughts at bay, but it didn’t help that it seemed he had a flirty personality, one that you couldn't help but match. 

“Vodka lemonade please.” You smiled at him as you followed him back out. 

“Where the hell were- What is going on here?” Ryan shouts, laughing almost in disbelief as he watches you and Vinny return from the bathroom, with you now wearing his sweater. 

“It's not what it looks like!” You exclaim, as Vinny laughs. 

“I knocked into her and spilled her drink, I helped clean up the mess and now I’m getting another one to replace the one she lost- I lost.” Vin said with a smile as he walked over to the bar. 

“We were thinking of going soon,” you hear Bryan say as he tapped you on the shoulder, “I think Nick had too many shots and Noah would kill me if he’s hungover for the first show. Do you wanna come too or stay or...?”

���That’s okay, I’ll stay. Vinny’s just getting me another drink. I'd feel bad if I left.” 

“That’s fine! Just please text me or one of the guys to let us know you got back safe. I won’t say it in front of Nick after what he was saying earlier, but Noah asked if we could make sure you get back safe and don’t leave with some stranger.” 

“I'm not stupid!" You laugh, "Of course I'll stay safe, and I'll text you when I leave and when I'm back. See you tomorrow, Bry.” 

“I think I might leave too, actually.” Ryan says, “It was great to meet you, even if it was briefly, and I can’t wait to be working with you tomorrow. See ya!” 

“Bye, Ryan!” You smile, watching as he followed Bryan and Nick out. 

“Here. I'm so sorry, really,” Vin hands you your drink and you thank him, “where’s everyone gone?”

“Back to the hotel,” you say, taking a sip, “we’ve only been here a couple hours!” 

“It’s because they’re getting old, y/n! Justin didn’t come with us this time but he always used to, but he’s a dad now so he’s probably catching up on all that sleep.”

“How old are you?” You ask a little out of the blue, remembering what Noah had said to you earlier.

“Hey, they say to never ask a lady her age!” He says, slightly flipping his hair, causing you to smile. 

“Sorry ma’am!” 

“30.” He answers straight up and you almost spit your drink out. 

“No! You’re a liar Vincent.”

“I’m not… and that’s not my name!” He sasses, “And there’s me thinking you actually knew of us!” 

“So you’re just Vinny?” You ask, quite taken back by the news, “And anyway I know a couple of your songs, I wouldn’t say I’m like a fan or anything…”

Vinny raises his eyebrows.

“Are you shitting me?”

“Hey, I’m sorry! I’ll listen to you guys whilst I work on editing some pictures tomorrow and I’ll give you a review!” You smile, taking a sip of your drink.

“Now that’s more like it.” He smirks, taking a sip of his drink. “And it’s Vincenzo actually.”

“That’s cute, Vincenzo… is that…”

“Italian,” he answers, shaking his head, “But please don’t ask me to speak Italian, I’m actually from New Jersey.”

“Oh cool!” You smile, also telling him where you’re from, “so New Jersey, that’s like next to New York isn’t it… interesting…”

Vinny looked rather confused at your thinking face. 

“What? What’s interesting?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you look like Timothee Chal-”

“Yes, they have." He interrupted, "And yes, I see it in some pictures.” He sighs, and you laugh. “Is that your way of calling me hot?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Well, given the chance I would give everything up for a chance with him from little women, so…”

You couldn’t deny Vinny was very attractive, not only in his looks but his personality too. He was a double threat, he was dangerous.

“So… you are calling me hot?” He smirked. The lighting in this place wasn’t doing you any favours as it only made him look better. 

“Are you like this with everyone?” You asked, a serious tone in your voice as you looked up at him. 

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, flirty?”

“I’ve been told I can be,” he smirked, “why?” 

“You’re so annoying.” You said, trying to hide your smile as you took a sip of your drink.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Three drinks later, Vinny decided it was time to get you back to the hotel and into bed. He was relatively sober compared to you, as you were currently shouting at the people DJ-ing for not letting you and Vin back up there. 

“C’mon! We played better songs than this!” You argued, “I’ve never even heard of this shit before!” 

“Hey, c’mon,” Vinny put his hand on your waist, pulling you away from the main stage, “Sorry!” He shouted up to the guy who stood with his arms crossed. 

“You’ve really got no control over your girlfriend, huh?” He snickered, and Vin took a deep breath, knowing not to make the situation any worse than it was five minutes ago. 

“No. She’s her own person, and we’re leaving now. I apologise.” He said calmly before turning around and leading you out of the building. 

“I didn’t want to leave so early.” You frowned, slightly shivering as you walked by his side. 

“It’s not early,” he laughed, “it’s almost 2am, and I have to be up at 7.” 

“Shit, I’m so sorry for keeping you there… you could’ve gone back y’know…” 

“I wasn’t leaving you there by yourself, in a club in a city you’ve never been to before with the way you are.”

“I’m not even drunk!” You poked his side. 

“Then walk in a straight line.” He stopped walking and crossed his arms, looking at you as if to say ‘go on.’

You thought about it, but then shook your head, and he smirked. 

“Maybe I did drink a little too much, but my drinks were stronger than yours so that's not fair!” 

“It was your choice to have double shots of vodka, you could’ve had a single, or no alcohol at all?” 

“And why would I wanna do that?” You linked your arms together as you continued to walk, “How long does it take to walk back?” 

“About 20 minutes. We could’ve gotten an uber but I didn’t want to risk you being sick in it or anything.” 

“They told you, didn't they?” You sighed.

“Who told me what?” He chuckled, looking at you as you walked together. 

“Bryan’s 25th.”

“No… What happened?” 

“I vomited all over Noah, and myself, but mostly Noah… It was the first time I properly met him.”

“Oh shit.” He laughed, before suddenly pulling back from you, “wait, are you and Noah…”

“Are we what?” You stopped to look at him, you knew what he meant but you wanted him to say it.

“I dunno, not together but… are you guys a... thing? I just thought after seeing the two of you yesterday when we were getting off the bus-”

“No! Why does everyone think there’s something going on between us?!”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.” He said, going quiet.

You sighed. 

“It’s okay, I’m sorry. Can I tell you something, Vinny?” You asked, your words a little slurred.

“Yeah, what's up?"

“I don’t know where I stand with Noah. Sure, I like him, I’ll admit that, but he'll give me mixed signals. And sometimes I feel like I annoy him. Am I annoying, Vin?”

“I don't know you well enough yet to answer that," he laughed, "But I'm sure he doesn't think that.”

“It’s like last night when I said I’d come out tonight with you guys, he had an attitude the whole way back to the hotel, until we went to our rooms- Shit I’m gonna wake him up when we get back!” 

“You two are sharing a room?" 

“It’s a long story, someone was gonna have to share and it only seemed fair I did because I had an extra bed. But- Shit I don't have the key to get in and I don’t want to have to wake him up.”

“Give him a call, he might still be awake.”

“You’re right!” You said, rushing to get your phone from your bag. 

It rang and rang but there was no answer. He was definitely asleep. 

“Fuck," you groaned when he didn't answer once more, stressfully running your fingers through your hair, "I don’t want to have to bang on the door to wake him up.”

“Look, I know this sounds crazy but for tonight why don’t you just stay in my room? We’ve all managed to get separate rooms this time around so I’ll ask Rick if I can share with him and-”

“No! I can’t kick you out of your room. We can share a bed, I don't bite! I'll even put a pillow between us if you want to.” You laughed. 

“Okay deal.” He smiled as he shook your hand.

————————————

@rumoured-whispers @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lma1986 @thisbicc @dominuslunae @miss570 @miamore0570 @jilliemiw86 @itsyaboinoah

i can't explain how much i love vinny that guys always got me giggling kicking my feet when i write about him

[anamelessfool]

as someone who was (sadly) limited in my bruce exposure, I need to know: what got you into him as an artist? and no, this isn't me being indoctrinated into bruce by your man collection...psh obviously...of course not... 🖤

I'm from Jersey so he actually gave birth to me. Like I have the sonograms. He's my dad so

I hope you like lots of YouTube videos and links because lawd they coming

Go get an Arizona Ice Tea and bagel and put on your sleeveless RonJon shirt ok go get cozy because this a long one we going down the shore for this one

But seriously I am not a super fan but I really love him and I hope one day I get to see him live. He still has a lot of energy now and he's doing everything he can with it. He has such a broad musical taste too and incorporates it into his performances. I enjoy his album The Seeger Sessions where he goes into old folk music. He just always looks like he's having fun.

He was one of the first champions of the electronic rock band Suicide who paved the way for modern alt music. I fucking cry so hard listening to this ahhh

great thing about bruce is he got old and rich but he didn't change he's still working man pro-union pro-giving men feelings and so many old boomers HATE HIM

like he has this contingent of "piss on the poor reading comprehension" fans that bemoan how "liberal and soft he is now" and it's like no grandpa your heart just fucking died that's what happened

Ronald Regan famously used his anti-war song 'Born in the USA' and the awful guys of his ilk really like Bruce and his work on surface level and Bruce is always like "nah man you fucking suck please can you read my lyrics for five seconds" He called the orange one a "toxic narcissist moron" when that one decided to use born in the USA for his own shit.

Anyway Bruce got this very masculine aura but he has a lot of vulnerability in his songs and performance style, like he is very aware of how the patriarchy affects the emotional side of men. Like men aren't allowed to have deep bonds with each other, have mental illness or show their emotions. He had a platonic "soul mate" Clarence Clemons who he truly truly loved. *Intensely Claws your shoulders and stares deep into your eyes like an insane oracle* REVE THEY TRULY LOVED EACH OTHER

THEH JUST FUCKIN KILL IT IN THIS SONG OK THE WHOLE GROUP

Like how can you not immediately want to start working on your car in the garage with a cold one after that come ON

This is my top tier performance from him I just melt every time ughh he's so hot here

HE IS ALSO VERY VERY ATTRACTIVE ARE YOU AWARE OF THIS

So uhh he's kind of what I based my young Primo on and my Primo I feel would be this type of performer in a different life.... I am writing a shorter post-Violence & Gentleness fic entitled "Adam Raised a Cain" (a song from my favorite album of Bruce's 'Darkness on the Edge of Town')

I consider this song his song. And another track from that album "Candy's Room" Primo x Jocasta's song

I think that's all I really can say about him hahaha ok thanks for stopping by

[theshipsong]

I'm curious to know what you think would happen in a "Kenny raises Mikasa" scenario because in hindsight I feel like it's a missed opportunity to not have them interact

this sent me down several lines of thought. it seems like a missed opportunity because of the ackerman lore, sure, but also because kenny bizarrely interacts with two other 104th girls: annie and historia. kenny and historia's parallels are near and dear to me as—chapter 65 is one of my favorites and so poorly adapted by WIT—so he's actually kind of an incredible scene partner for teenage girls a la arya stark and sandor clegane

on mikasa's side, her concept of "family" is conspicuous as hell from beginning to end. i'm not the most familiar with EMA, but i'm pretty sure she refers to both eren and armin as "family" while levi stays firmly her superior, even one she's fond of and admires apart from others, because that's how they met. any bonding between them feels post-canonical

logistically: frieda eats uri in 843 and mikasa's parents are killed in 844. i puzzle through kenny's resume here, but in 844 he would have most likely been part of the first interior squad. speaking to his grandfather in snk 65, he's aware of the southern cadet branch. in 850 trost, MPs have records of mikasa and eren killing the human traffickers, so the "ackerman" name is floating around the military for sure besides ""captain ackerman"" (SO crazy to me, fake job)

many questions

when kenuri meet and "the persecution of the ackerman family" stops, that only means the MPs leave them alone and obviously doesn't reverse their fortunes. he went underground most likely intending to bring kuchel back up to the surface(?), but that care didn't extend to these distant relations. seeing how he ditched levi, why in the world would he be invested in mikasa?

answering my own question in the style of a scholastic summa: i generously think his guilt toward kuchel is one of kenny's softest qualities. the fates of kuchel and mikasa's mother stand out as this universe's most horrifying misogynistic violence, and that they're both ackermans even if only by marriage is significant. so MAYBE, maybe, kenny could be moved by mikasa's circumstances like he wasn't by levi's, certainly due to chauvinism! don't get me wrong! children of any gender should be protected, and this is the man who was ready to slit historia's throat! since his narration pities kuchel as different from him and levi: "long as ya got [power]… ya won't meet an end like my little sister's," he might not be compelled to look after mikasa since she's been awakened to ~the ackerpower~, which unfortunately seems to be kenny's measure of majority/adulthood

mikasa's adoption is like story crucial. whatever. but i AM intrigued by the thought of kenny's arms-length mentorship instead of the jaegers' warmth. would she be comforted by the shared name? despite the lighter hair, her father's face shape is similar to kenny's. she already knows who the fuck she is, she has/had parents; maybe much like kenny knows he's not cut out to be some kid's dad, mikasa doesn't want that at ALL, versus levi's much worse position of suspecting kenny might have been his father. child levi's painful conclusion that he disappointed kenny somehow would be so much worse if he saw someone else was worth kenny's attention

but! this would only be because uri is fucking dead. would dealing with a traumatized middle schooler be a satisfactory "hobby" for kenny before the anti-personnel control squad? i doubt it!! though maybe the funniest panel of all time where grandpa ackerman describes the azumabito as "'asians,' a people vastly different from us" would make mikasa a Little little more interesting to him, like a lab rat more than anything. but this is why historia and kenny's interactions are so fun to me, as well as kenny's ambivalence toward frieda: i really think he'd feel more obligated to the reiss girls than any ackerman. see levi

anyway, i could see mikasa joining the cadets still and succeeding, perhaps even angling to make it to the first interior squad. bereft of eren, i imagine her treating kenny as a doddering old man who should retire even though i'm pretty sure he's like. 45-50 at most in 850. and this right here is a setup for an MP mikasa canon AU, I Think. mikannie. mikahitchannie. mikahisu. jeankasa or eremika i fucking guess

[shewhopats]

Overwatch characters watching your kid

I've been thinking about writing some silly short stories about OW characters getting stuck watching someone's kid, but I figured I would make this guide for my headcannon for the kind of babysitter each of them would be.

Brigitte and Reinhardt would make you the most nervous with their methods. Lots of rough-housing, throwing them around and into the air, giving your kid sugar, letting them climb things, and overall just encouraging mayhem and rule-breaking. "You mom/dad doesn't let you do this at home? Well, they're not here, are they?" Your kid will come home thoroughly exhausted, but bitter about you not being as fun as they are.

Orisa would make the same mistakes as Brigitte and Reinhardt, but more out of ignorance and inexperience. Like letting your kid stay up too late, because she doesn't understand why going to bed at a decent time is important, or feeding them something that makes them sick because that's what they said they wanted to eat. Unintentionally lets your kid walk all over her, but once you teach her how it's done, she'll be your go-to option when you need a break.

Zenyatta would be so intrigued by the natural imagination and curiosity of children. He'd provide lots of different toys, art supplies, and time for unrestricted and uninstructed play. A one-man enrichment program. Just don't try to tell him there are boy toys and girls toys. Your kid will be allowed to play with whatever they want. He would also unironically have a blast playing pretend with dolls or action figures. I'm talking a 25-part narrative with backstories, lore, worldbuilding, and an Endgame-style final conflict.

Genji, Kiriko, Tracer, and B.O.B would be the kings and queens of "don't tell your parents." Extra screen-time, taking them out for ice cream, staying up a little later then their normal bedtime, etc. What I would call "a healthy amount of rule-breaking." They have everyone else convinced they are Responsible™ but you can't help noticing that your kid is always excited to hangout with them.

Ana and Torbjorn could be depended on the same way you can trust grandma and grandpa. They've had kids, so they know all the tips, tricks, and games to keep your kid clean, fed, safe, and happy. Just don't tell them some dumb shit like "organic, non-gmo fruits only." Your kid will be eating bananas from the supermarket like everyone else. But for more sensible rules, even the ones they don't agree with, they will follow them.

Echo will make you fill out a 200-question survey and write an essay on how you want your kid cared for. She will follow every instruction down to the letter, and send you updates every 30 minutes. If your kid sneezes, she will call you to ask about it. The downside is your kid will probably hate her for being such a rules monger.

Baptiste, Illari, Lucio, and Sojourn would try so hard to be responsible and follow your instructions, but puppy-eyes work on them 80% of the time. Your home will look like a warzone when you get back, but they'll help you clean up.

Lifeweaver, Pharah, Mei, and Zarya would get a whiff of that specific smell babies have that makes your DNA scream at you to make one yourself. They would be the sweetest, most gentle caretakers on this list. They'll spend most of the time snuggling on the couch, watching T.V. and drinking hot coco. Would let your kid give them a makeover, paint their nails, and play with their hair. Would read to and rock them to sleep, tuck them in really snug. They'd probably look forward to seeing your kid again, and every time you happen upon one of them, they'll only ask what's going on with the kiddo.

Sombra, Symmetra, and Widowmaker would rather be water-boarded then spend five minutes with those sticky-fingered cunt goblins you call kids.

Ashe, Hanzo, and Winston would happily agree to babysit for you, thinking they will be serviceable at it. How hard could it be? Then an hour later they call you, on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and beg you to come back, because your kid is crying or throwing a tantrum. They definitely have the potential to be great caretakers, but they would need someone to walk them through it at first.

Bastion and Sigma definitely WANT to give babysitting a try, but they understand why that's probably not a safe idea. They would question your intelligence if you asked them.

Cassidy and D.va would take your kid to McDonalds or somewhere else with else with a play-place, and let them go wild while they sit on a bench nearby. They will do the bare minimum amount of work to keep your kid alive, because they have better things to do. Would only babysit as a favor for you if no one else is available.

Mercy is married to her work, and Ramattra is dedicated to his mission. If you somehow convince them to watch your kid for even a single hour, they'll set-up a playpen with whatever toys they like, toss in a sippy cup and snack every now and then, and ignore their existence while they do their usual business.

Doomfist, Moira, Reaper, and Soldier: 76 would tape your kid to a chair the first time it annoys them. I know there's the fandom joke of S76 being the dad of the team, but he's always come off as grumpy and impatient to me.

Your kid would love the junkers (Junker Queen, Junkrat, Roadhog, Wrecking Ball) for all the wrong reasons. They would teach your kid how to make a grenade launcher out of plastic bottles and rubber bands, 37 new swear words, and how to punch people in the throat. Unless you want to get a call from the school about your kid blowing up the chemistry room, I would choose literally anyone else to babysit.

Mauga would use your kids to get dates. He'll take your daughter to a dance class and talk to any single parents about how much of a family man he is and how difficult being a single dad. He'll take your son to play catch in a park so he has an excuse to take his shirt off and flex his muscles. He'll coach your kid to walk up to someone and say, "my uncle thinks your pretty, so maybe you can play with us."

[ninas-gf]

For the character meme: Amber?

first impression: i honestly don't think i had many strong opinions about her when i *first* met her in the game, however she quickly became one of my favorite characters as i read the webtoon a few years ago!

my impression now: i'm going to be honest, i don't really care about 95% of the characters anymore, so my passion for her character died down a lot... :(

favorite thing about that character: the near unconditional amount of faith and loyalty she places in her friends :D

least favorite thing: i personally don't have anything to dislike about her character, i just sometimes wish that she were in a different game, with writers who were more willing to give her the proper attention and development that she deserves, yk?

favorite line/scene: definitely that scene from the webtoon between her and collei after collei told kaeya to kill her... i just thought it was a very powerful and strong moment for both characters, and it made me tear up a little.

favorite interaction that character has with another: again, her interactions with collei are amazing! i also think she has a sweet dynamic with eula, but i'll admit i've grown apart from their dynamic recently :(

a character that I wish that character would interact with more: literally anyone but eula... and i say that as someone who loves eula tremendously more than any other character, i just think it's a bit sad how amber hasn't really had much plot relevance of her own ever since eula's release.

another character from another fandom that reminds me of that character: ruby rose from rwby is the first one that comes to mind for some reason.

a headcanon about that character: that she has major abandonment issues ever since her grandpa left her. it seems obvious, but i don't think it was ever explicitly stated in the lore.

a song that reminds of that character: wishing you were somehow here again... it's not a *perfect* fit, but i do believe you could apply it to the situation with her grandpa.

an unpopular opinion about that character: she's stronger and cleverer than people tend to give her credit for, i think.

favorite picture: any picture of her from the webtoon... i just think that art style really does her justice!!

[fishyishy]

A3! Event Translation - memory of toys (4/11)

From a young age, I had appeared in various productions as a child actor.

My father gave me movie discs. All kinds of discs, from anime productions to old classics. It was like being able to watch an unknown world -- I was hooked.

I want to act like this. I want to be this kind of actor. One day, I want to appear in a production like this.

I think that moment was the birth of a childhood dream. Everytime my dad would give me a disc, I would get so excited inside.

I wasn't given many of what people would consider "real toys," but the films my dad gave me are a part of my life, and a precious childhood memory.

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

Tenma: To this day, I still watch movies and use anything I can as references.

Tenma: It's something different...but it's something I have a lot of sentimental attachment towards.

Yuki: So in short its a case of nostalgic bias.

Tenma: Gu... well...wellllll..... maybe that's what it is.

Tenma: Even now, I occasionally re-watch films I watched back then. They're all masterpieces that can never lose their appeal no matter how many years have passed.

Yuki: Actually, what were you even watching? It couldn't have been an anime movie or anything like that.

Tenma: The 10th Samurai*.....or something.

Yuki: Grandpa taste.

Tenma: It's a masterpiece!

Tenma: In any case, the things we receive as kids stay in our memories. For better or worse.

Tenma: They can link to the environment and events at the time, and eventually become a memory.

Tenma: Toys are exactly what come up when you think of "this will easily become a memory"

Yuki: Definitely.

Tenma: If I had been born into a normal family, I might have played with those kinds of toys too.

Yuki: Even if you grew up in a normal household, you'd probably still want things suited for senior citizens. You're like a grandpa.

Tenma: What!?

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

Yuki: .......Memories, huh.

Yuki: (It may be a common theme, but there are probably as many memories as there are toys out there.)

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

Citron: Since then I have thought of many ideas!

Citron: A theme song is a must! I will make a song that you will not be able to get out of your head!

Yuki: Well then, how does the song flow?

Citron: Hm~mmm....I suppose... there is no plan.

Yuki: Siigh... it seems like none of our plans are coming together.

Citron: Then, how about a mail order shopping style delivery!?

Yuki: Well, it might attract attention, and be easy to do, but I don't think we want something like that right now.

Citron: This is difficult~......

Citron: ......Aha! That's it! I will go search for someone with the special powers!

Yuki: What?

Citron: When we create a theme song, the instrumentalists and vocalists and me will work together!

Yuki: Ah- so you want to collaborate?

Citron: That is it!

Yuki: You have a point. Just because we started planning this doesn't mean it only has to be just the two of us.

Citron: Yes! I will borrow every~one's strength ♪

Yuki: Yeah, well, let's give it a try.

previous I next

*i think its a parody on the old movie "Seven Samurai"

please let me know if anything is incorrect !

[cerealboxlore]

WIP #4: Captain Marvel The Animated Series (written)

Episode One: Welcome To Fawcett I

Freddy sat down in the booth across from Billy Batson, surprised by the softness of the seats as he practically sank into them. He took in the decoration of the diner with awe, recognizing the old interior design from pages of history books and old television shows. Looking around, a lot of the photos on the walls were in color, but most of them were in the classic black-and-white style that hadn't aged a day, along with the people in them. The radio on the counter of the kitchen window was playing an old tune, one that Freddy recognized as his grandfather's favorite! He was so enchanted by the vintage nature of the place that he hadn't noticed Billy ordering milkshakes for the both of them. If Freddy hadn't snapped back to reality when their drinks were brought to the table, he was sure he would have been there for hours.

"Wow! You know, I heard that Fawcett was frozen in time for like, decades, but it doesn't really hit you until you get here. The architecture, the people, the whole vibes of everything you all have around here just scream old-timey. No wonder my grandpa wanted to move here, haha-oh, wait! I didn't mean that as an insult, trust me! Fawcett has a good thing going for them. I just need some getting used to it, that's all." Freddy's nervous laughter eased down, as he wiped away the sweat rolling down his face. He was naturally popular in school and around the other kids, as Billy saw firsthand, but actually making friendships and connections with people took more effort than just being a pretty face. Freddy knew that. He just hoped he wouldn't bite his tongue or say the wrong thing as the new kid in town. A kid from the modern day around kids from the past? Yeah, that was for sure going to go great. "I just need to get used to being in this town...it's all new to me." His voice waivered above a whisper at the end, an unsure look in his eyes telling Billy that there was more going on than on the surface.

Billy took in the nervous expression and behavior Freddy was showing, trying to think of a way to calm him down. During school, he could tell that Freddy needed some fresh air and time to think about his move to Fawcett without being bombarded by all the other kids who kept asking him questions. Billy also knew that Freddy moved to Fawcett because of rather...unfortunate reasons, after hearing the rumors that spread around the school, like wildfire, during lunch. He didn't want Freddy to associate Fawcett with negative emotions, thus, the reason for inviting him to Philip's Diner.

"No, it's alright, you don't have to worry about anything, Freddy. Fawcett folk here understand the odd looks we get from the rest of the world." Billy chuckled, taking another sip of his milkshake with a smile. He didn't get the chance to drink these very often, so the moment he saw the chance to have one again with his new friend, Freddy Freeman, Billy seized the opportunity. Honestly, he never treated himself to anything nice unless someone else was tagging along or if the main reason was in consideration of another. Always the money saver, that kid. "You know, being the new kid in town, being the new town in the world, it's not so different once you think about it. The Fawcett Freeze may have set us back, but we're more than eager to catch up with the rest of the world and stand tall! I promise you, you'll do just fine around here, you just need some time to adjust and breathe the air, and you're free to take all the time you need, we've got plenty of that here. So, even if you stumble or fumble some steps, I've got your back!" Billy shined a bright smile on Freddy, who seemed at a loss for a brief moment.

Before Billy could be concerned about the silence, however, Freddy reached a hand out to the boy. Freddy had his doubts and worries about Fawcett, and his place in this town, but after hearing Billy speak so easily to him without any problem, he felt a little stronger.

Freddy felt...calmer.

"Well, if you say so, Billy," Freddy sighed out, grinning. "I'll take your word that Fawcett rocks and I'll take a chance on being here. I can tell already that you're gonna be a great friend!" The two kids shook hands, feeling a strong bond forming between them. Maybe they'd be good friends for a long time. "But, I doubt I'm ever going to stumble or fumble like you said. I've got the best pair of running legs a baseball field has ever seen!"

"Let's put that to the test then, Freeman! Finish your shake in a quick second and I'll take you over to the local baseball field here. The one over by Sherman Street is great for games!"

"Don't gotta tell me twice, Batson!" Freddy shouted excitedly in response. The change in mood seemed to do him some good.

The two boys then chugged their milkshakes like a couple of starving raccoons, sprinting out the door as soon as Billy paid their bill.

Had the boys left a few seconds later, they would have heard the breaking news alert on the radio, alerting the public to Dr. Sivana's recent escape.

@wolfsbanesparks (Merry Christmas! Hope you like this WIP!)

[tanasha-not-yet]

hmmm random but i want your thoughts on different styles of facial hair (beard/moustache)

thanks for the question !! i dont often see different interesting styles irl buuuut i think i do have some opinions on it at least in yk fiction

tiny beardlings, teen moustache and all that - awesome. give them to everyone Please Please this is justtt idk cute ? i love bo's tiny beardlings, its kinda a look im going for w kelp and im pretty sure connor has some too ? in his adult design at least hehe sometimes ppl make them look like kitten's whiskers its soo cute !! also mac and lake from bodies of water (just remembered just how much i LOVE IT AHHH WATCH IT EVERYONE !!!! but its abt gender dysphoria so beware) both have these whichhh made me consider giving greylock the same thing mac has <3 <3 look at him <3 <3 <3

tolstoy, gendalf and a random oldman on the bus station style - awesome. the wisdom of these men is kept in their beards. their evilness too but we try not to think about it. could be kept in a braid but its too wild atp. never seen someone who keeps it like that, which is a pity

i havent showered in a week and i havent shaved since summer - awesome + i feel that + me too + bonus points if its patchy and uneven. genuinely love the look tbhhh idk its sweet. sending them strength

CURLY BEARDS. THIS WAS BROUGHT TO US BY ALIENS ISTG ! ITS LIKE CURLY KITTENS BUT LIKE. MEN. IDKIDKIDK SO AWESOME ToT ToT ToT theres a boy w this style of beard in my group and its genuinely like sooo awesome hes a poc as well so the beard is like thick and black and all and he usually shaves but when he doesnt hes just !!! cute !!!

asian grandpa style. these are the people who get it. only saw it in fiction. but you know what im talking about

actually curled up moustache. this is another genre of people. ill never get their rizz and they dont need me to get it. once your life is at a point where you curl up your mustache i think you dont need external validation. its like. a sidequest after youre already done with all the major things there were to achieve. ive seen it once and its been living in my brain ever since

whatever was going on on savage's face before rtte. what was he cooking. i respect him. hope it was painful when they ripped it out when his betrayal was revealed

tuffnuts beard. tuffnuts beard. tuffnuts beard

sigh. wish i had a beard. my body certainly attempts to grow out one. i would have a real nice one even since on my armhair is a fucking taiga but nonono mister fish youre not getting a beard youre getting this ёбаный babyface блять sighhhh

anyway yeah. thanks for the question

[chaoscheebs]

It's Midnight, Cinderella, chapter 2

(Chapter 1) - (Chapter 2) - (Chapter 3) - (Chapter 4) - (Chapter 5) - (Fic Tag)

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

How did such a good night go so wrong?

Sure, it had been a little awkward at first; Otogi had promptly ditched him to flirt with (admittedly pretty hot) girls, leaving him stranded in a sea of stuffy people in suits he didn’t have the first clue how to approach on his own. But then Seto Kaiba—and boy, was it painfully obvious it was Seto Kaiba, even with the mask—approached him first! Without prompting! Because Kaiba’s apparently into the Ouji look? Regardless of why, it had been… nice. Very nice, to just leave all the drama and troubles and bad blood at the door and talk to him (flirt with him oh god why did he do that) like a normal person. Then it had led to card games in a private room and… Honestly, why should he have been surprised that it was like foreplay to Kaiba?

Leave the masks on, they silently agreed, let’s put aside real life for a while and enjoy the moment.

He could have revealed who he was at any time, but he didn’t. His thoughts were only how good it felt to be in Kaiba’s arms, how good it felt to have Kaiba’s attention on him and solely him for once in his life, how good it would feel to have those long, elegant legs wrapped around him, and thought absolutely nothing about the potential fallout afterward.

In short, Yugi Muto got carried away, thought with his dick, and that’s why he fled home as soon as Kaiba was asleep to go dye his hair back to normal at four in the morning, quietly thanking whatever deities existed that he hadn’t styled his hair like normal and left it in its natural state. No amount of trying out a different hair color would have hid that hairstyle, that’s for sure. Jounouchi’s gonna be upset that the perfect bleaching he helped Yugi with was already being covered up, but better covered up than the alternative.

Shit. The alternative. What was he going to do now, Yugi asked himself, slumping on the couch while he waited for the 20 minutes for the dye to set to be up. What if Kaiba figures out it was him? How is he going to react? Is he going to get fired? Or worse, barred from being involved with the major players in the gaming industry? Is he going to have to focus on the indie scene, or worse, have to take over the game store?! Is it too late to follow Anzu to New York and start over there?

“Yugi? What are you doing up at this hour?”

Yugi snapped out of his anxiety spiral-induced reverie at the sound of his grandpa’s voice behind him. “Wh-what are you doing up at this hour?!”

“I asked you first, m’boy,” Grandpa asked. He gingerly poked at Yugi’s dye-saturated hair, realized what he just touched, then wiped his dye-stained finger off on the towel around Yugi’s neck. “Didn’t you just change this the other day?”

“Oh, I, uh…” Yugi wracked his brain for a quick but plausible answer and mercifully found one. “I forgot I had a piercing appointment tomorrow and want to get this done now so I won’t forget about it being there and get dye in an open wound!”

Grandpa frowned, clearly still suspicious but unable to think of a good rebuttal at this hour. “More piercings? You’re certain your workplace is all right with that?”

Yugi smirked. “I have a company-wide e-mail from Seto Kaiba himself from the last time someone complained about someone getting piercings, telling all management that he, quote, ‘doesn’t care how much metal someone has in their face if it’s not impacting their ability to work, stop wasting his and everyone else’s time with this.’ Saved it to my computer and printed it out too~”

Grandpa laughed and patted Yugi’s shoulder. “Ho, ho! That’s my boy!” He paused for a moment, then let out a bit of a sigh. “Anyway, don’t forget to get some rest when you’re done with this, all right? Staying up all night isn’t good for you.”

“I will, Grandpa,” Yugi lied. Like hell he was getting any sleep when he was in panic mode like this. Thankfully, his grandfather took him at his word, but not without one more worried glance before leaving.

Once Grandpa was out of sight, Yugi started to flop down on one side on the couch, but suddenly remembered the hair dye and caught himself before the wet hair touched anything. His life was difficult enough at the moment; he doesn’t need Mom complaining about dye stains on the furniture on top of it. Again. He settled instead for slouching forward, staring at the floor, until it occurred to him to pull out his phone from his pocket and stare at that instead.

He really should talk to someone about this, but who? Anzu would commiserate with him, but it would be early afternoon for her off in New York; she’d probably be at a rehearsal or something. There’s also Jounouchi, but hearing him talk shit about Kaiba was not what Yugi needed right now. Honda, maybe? Yugi shook his head; they’re close enough, but not close enough to wake him up over this disaster. Bakura’s right out; he’s the god-king of wandering into trouble and making it everyone else’s problem himself. There’s always Hanasaki, he supposed, but he was prepping for midterms or something and did not need this added to his load either…

Finally, he asked himself, Otogi, maybe? It’s his damn fault he was even at the damn party anyway. But no, Yugi decided, remembering the circle of women surrounding the man before he went off with Kaiba. There’s no way Otogi was alone and he wasn’t interrupting that. At best, he’d get an invitation to join, and any other day that’d be tempting, but again, this was not what Yugi needed right now.

Yugi heaved a sigh and flopped backwards, leaning heavily against the back of the couch, head reclined back as far as it would comfortably go. He thought for a split second about what to do, but then he remembered. The hair dye.

FUCK.

He leapt to his feet and spun around to see a great big splotch of purplish pink, then bolted to the bathroom to get a wet washcloth to hopefully clean it up before it set. Dye job first, he told himself, then worry about what to do next. It’s not like he didn’t have all day to figure something out, after all.

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

Meanwhile, back at the hotel room, Seto Kaiba was sitting on the edge of the bed, pondering his next move.

He had been sleeping more peacefully than he had in years, but when he turned over in his sleep, his arm fell onto… nothing. The other man’s lithe form was no longer next to him, nor any trace of his warmth left in his place. A quick check of the room and adjoining bathroom proved he was no longer there, period, and a brief check of his belongings showed nothing was missing, save for his mask—he presumed the man grabbed the wrong one in his haste—and, infuriatingly enough, the business card the man had given him.

At least corporate espionage seemed to be off the table as a motive for the man’s quick retreat, Seto thought; with everything that’s happened in his life, a honeypot operation targeting him wasn’t out of the question. Not that he thought anyone would be bold enough to try, with how utterly apathetic he was about… well, being with anyone that way, to be frank.

Which, honestly, was what made this hurt, and what he was blaming for the urge to fight his cynical first impulse to let this matter drop and chalk it up to a passing whim and people being shitty yet again.

He growled quietly, running a hand through his hair. What was wrong with him; why couldn’t he just let this go as an obvious mistake, a momentary lapse of judgment? The man clearly wasn’t taking this as seriously as he was, if the bastard could just run away like this. Still, something nagged at him, something he couldn’t quite put a finger on, but he was very clearly missing something in all of this and it was absolutely infuriating.

He picked up his pants from the floor, fished out his phone, and opened a notes app. He needed a guest list, he typed into it, and started typing out a description of what the man looked like and what he could remember the man saying to him. Also, a description of the man his target was the plus one for, not that he got a terribly long or clear look at him. Still, combined with the guest list, what he did notice could be illuminating. If he could find the “date” that ditched the target, maybe he could get the target’s damned name.

For better or worse, Seto Kaiba was a man who, when his personal curiosity took over, could not be stopped until it was satisfied, and this was going to be no exception to that.

[ohwell-itsme-but-danganronpa]

Kokichi being related to Ishimaru

Apolllo: All the killing games were simulations (though Junko did die. She had it set up that once she was executed, life support would be switched off and a poison would be administrated meaning she didn't have to face them for she knew it would cause despair for them not to get that sort of closure. She made sure her pod was hidden as well). Kokichi got some of his leadership skills from his cousin, one Kiyotaka Ishimaru. They have different styles sure but he still learnt most of his things from Taka. He also learnt some from both Byakuya and the Imposter (who's impressed that Kokichi somehow managed to pick up that they weren't all they seemed). It hurt all three of them though Byakuya is hesitant to admit it to see him in V3 and the way he acted during it. It hit Imposter hard because they were one of the causes behind the tragedy which ended up with Kokichi being captured.

Ves: making kokichi an ishimaru is FASCINATING was he shielded from the grandpa blowback? Apollo: He's shielded dw! Kokichi doesn't tell anyone about their connection until he gets into Hope's Peak and one of them (probably Taka) slip up and mention that they're cousins or something

Ves: being in that family's gotta give him some WILD baggage around leadership, still how's he feel about having a cop uncle Apollo: Oh it really does. Especially when he gets his acceptance letter. He's tried to be his own person but he now officially has a (somewhat) similar talent to his cousin. As for the cop uncle, it's sorta awkward because DICE aren't the most…Law abiding citizens out there Ves: the ishimarus are canonically poor as dirt bc of what happened, but there seems to be a lot of pride in not turning to ~less scrupulous~ ways of earning money. the friction DICE'd cause,,,ouch

Apollo: It's something that annoys the hell out of Kokichi. So what if he's pulling stupid pranks and occasionally petty theft? If the world finds out he's connected to them, they're gonna expect it so may as well have fun. Taka's tried to stop him but it hasn't worked. Kokichi's got it in his mind that because Japan basically hates his family, he may as well give them a reason to hate him for more than any connections he has He almost turns down Hope's Peak but DICE encourage him to go…They regret it when everything happens though He forgives them dw

Ves: 'forgives' implies previous anger apollo don't do it don't break up the clown fambly- Apollo: At first he may or may not be slightly annoyed when he first goes to Hope's Peak because who needs some stupid school? He wants to go back to the clowns damn it! Ves: ohhh i thought u meant blaming them for him getting kidnapped Apollo: No he'd never do that he blames the man who ruined his family's life lmao When he gets out and remembers everything, he's pissed off. In the game he wanted to be someone and he gets out and finds that he basically had been but it turned out horribly The others find out and expect him to flaunt it only to discover how disgusted he is with the whole thing. He prefers his poor clown family thank you very much! He is slowly improving his relationship with his cousin and uncle but it's slow

Me: what if the reason Kokichi is shielded from the association with Ishimarus because he's from Taka's mother's side of the family, and his mom (or it could be dad ig, but I imagined mom) was like "I can't believe my sister married a cop" and kept him away for the most part, not fully cutting them off, but they're distant, usually making sure to meet up without the old man there Apollo: OH HELL YES Kokichi purposely fucks with the law because A) It's fun B) He sees how much the whole distance thing is actually hurting the family C) He just wants attention from them and what better way than to end up at the station his uncle works at? Taka tries to reconnect when he realises Kokichi is at Hope's Peak but Ko keeps brushing him off despite knowing he's not to blame for everything Me: yes, cause, when I said they meet up without the old man, I definitely had them still meeting and playing together as kids, but as they got older they started to sense something is off, and their mothers don't get along as well as they tried to make it seem and instead just tried to still support each other despite their disagreements Kokichi probably had a lot of hand-me-downs from Taka when they were kids

Apollo: Imagine if that ends up making Kokichi feel worse because yet again, he's connected to the part of the family his mother is lowkey trying to make him hate or something Me: I just wanted to be silly and have Kokichi's mom say acab and be the one that gave Kokichi his values when this started Apollo: Kokichi: acab…Got it, time to break the law whenever I can Me: She just disapproves, but still loves her sister and they supported each other through rising kids Apollo: The poor kids [pensive emoji]

[nei-ning]

Weird dream again. Just telling one part.

I send "Thank You" card to a man who had done beautiful bouquet to my aunt when her second partner died. Later my sister with her female friend (who I've never seen before anywhere) invited me in tiny attic room of some sort. There, on the wall, was beautifully made wooden flower pot holder with tiny red flowers glued on it there and there. There also was tiny pot with fake flowers on it. It was heck pretty! I started to hear this man's voice, as a message, in my head.

"Hello. This is X. Thank you so much for sending me that card. It made me happy and meant so much to me. Please, show this gift of mine to your aunt. I'm sure she would appreciate it."

He kept talking and I ended on a flower field, standing at the edge of the hill, watching downhill. On the background is big steampunk styled castle with tiny city. On my right was big rock, next to it tiny longer grass spot with tiny creek. The scene is like from some Ghibli movie. This man stood there, pulling out a bunch of tall grass, starting to cut them with scissors to his guinea pig which was running free at his feet.

"I don't know how I would react when my guinea pig dies but I'm sure I wouldn't be able to handle it."

Then I am back in this attic room. I did chat a bit with sis, ending up in dark brown room. There was tall and long wall which was full of different kind of items, some kind of trophies or items to "unlock". I saw something connected to Final Fantasy 7 and Sephiroth. There's a man now by my side on my right and he says:

"You know Sephiroth died 35 years ago?"

I nodded. Then I woke up on the sound of doorbell. Tho, I instantly started to analyze it since I wasn't fully awake yet. It wasn't neighbor grandpa since he always keep the button pressed for a long time, it's never one fast and single press. I listened but didn't hear anyone step away from the door so my conclusion was that some bird poked it since they are hungry, waiting for food, or someone in Spirit World pressed it. Soon after this I fell back to sleep.