#Smiler: 'fine at least you TRIED it'

[victorluvsalice]

Valicer Not-Incorrect Quotes, Food Edition

In honor of the “food” prompt for this month’s @polyamships Polyam Shipping Day:

--

Alice: [looking at a collection of “freakshake” photos online] I really don’t understand these things. I mean, I’ve got nothing against a good milkshake, but -- look at this, this one has an entire slice of cheesecake on it. 

Victor: I know! You know I like sugar, but -- that seems really excessive.

Smiler: You know what I’ve always thought? That those are like the milkshake fancypants version of the Vermonster.

Alice: The what?

Smiler: A giant bucket sundae that you’re supposed to eat with your friends -- it’s from Ben & Jerry’s. Why else would you get a slice of cheescake on a milkshake if you weren’t supposed to give the cheesecake to someone else?

Victor: That’s -- probably the most sensible explanation for these things I’ve heard.

Alice: Pity that probably means it’s not true.

Smiler: Probably not, but it SHOULD be. Also, if we’re ever anywhere near a Ben & Jerry’s, we should get a Vermonster.

Alice: Well, that goes without saying.

--

Smiler: [sneaking into the kitchen]

Smiler: [looking around as they grab a package of Jaffa Cakes out of the pantry]

Smiler: [grinning to themselves as they tear it open]

Victor: [immediately poking his head around the door] Can I have one too?

Smiler: How do you always know?!

--

Smiler: [pouring some strawberry mojito mocktails they’ve whipped up for everyone] We got drinks!

Alice: [comes in and claims her glass, taking a swing] Mmmm -- delicious as always, Smiler.

Victor: [following soon after] Oh yes -- you really have a talent for this.

Smiler: [sipping their own drink] Well, talent and years of helping Mom with parties and working at coffee places.

Victor: Even still -- you really should be a bartender. You’d knock the socks off everyone with these.

Smiler: [laughs] Maybe, but I think most of them wouldn’t be impressed with the lack of alcohol.

Alice: Look, I have enough problems with Wonderland, I don’t need to add booze to the mix.

Victor: And you don’t need me trying to tell you my entire life story.

Smiler: But I like your entire life story!

Victor: That involves me talking more about my parents.

Smiler: I do not like your entire life story, finish your mocktail.

--

[context: Victor and Alice are hanging out with Smiler’s other friends for a movie night]

Oblivion: [bringing in some boxes] All right, we have pizza!

Rita: Finally! Hand it over, Oblivion.

Oblivion: Yeah, hang on -- okay, this one is all pepperoni, nice and standard; this one is pepperoni and olives on one side, and mushrooms and olives on the other; this one is Meat Lover’s and sausage, peppers, and mushrooms; and this one is Hell On Pizza.

Smiler: [rolling their eyes as they pick up a slice of Hell On Pizza, otherwise known as Hawaiian] You could actually try some before knocking it, you know.

Thirteen: Everyone knows pineapple does not belong on pizza, Smiler.

Galactica: It’s a scientific fact.

Smiler: Scientists don’t know what they’re missing.

Rita: [grabbing a slice of pepperoni] Please just accept you have terrible taste in pizza, Smiler. It’ll be easier on us all.

Victor: [had been reaching for his Meat Lover’s -- but upon hearing all this admittedly good-natured teasing, he stops, considers -- and then picks up a slice of Hawaiian and takes a big bite]

Everyone Else: [regards him with surprise, even Smiler]

Victor: [after a contemplative chew and swallow] Actually, this isn’t bad. I don’t know if I’d want it every time, but --

Smiler: [practically tackles him and kisses him hard] Marry me. Now.

Oblivion: [mostly-faux horror, eyes wide] Oh no. [looks at Alice] Have they gotten to you too?

Alice: [taking a dazed Victor’s forgotten slice] We’re about to find out!

--

[undead-merman]

Summoning Leviathan to destroy a cult GN-Reader SFW

Odd Happenings 

It wasn’t noticeable at first. Like most infections, it is undetectable as it incubates just under the surface. The man at the grocery store was more cheery than normal. You suspected that maybe it might have been a good day. 

Then more people started smiling more and more. It felt good seeing so many people in a good mood, it raised your own spirits with how people would wave and smile at you just for walking down the street. How they’d hold open the door, tell you how good you looked that day, how genuinely nice it felt to be noticed in such a kind light. It was lowering your guard. 

People seem to be out of the house more, the streets cleaner. But folks were going missing, and no one cried for them. Bringing it up was met with shrugs and giggles, optimism that was stretched far too thin. “They’ll turn up sooner or later.”, “Oh, I'm sure it's some misunderstanding.”, or even “You shouldn't worry about that. They'll be just fine.” 

Sometimes at night you can hear singing. It's so faint many times you mistake it for just the wind in your tired ears. Every night it gets louder. Louder to a point where you can no longer ignore it. It sounds familiar, likes you've already heard it a million times. 

Danger

Since that night you've noticed those smiles look stapled on, eyes feel too open, pupils much too dilated. Your skin crawls just from seeing them. 

The nights get longer, the singing much louder. You went from relaxed to so on edge that the smallest movement has you jumping out of your skin. 

Missing people come back. They come back different. Heads shaved, faces all screwed up and wrong, covered in bruises and cuts. You can't even ask them what happened since they're always next to one of those smiliers. 

One night you catch some people trying to break into your house. Either catching it on the security cameras or catching them outside your window. They flee after the failed attempt but going to the police they smugly tell you there's nothing they can do. When you walk out, a dozen smilers dressed as cops and everyday people leer at you. 

They keep appearing around you. Keep trying to pull you into the dark when you least expect it. It feels like vultures waiting for an injured and starving coyote to finally die.

One night they tried breaking in. it was a blur, you hit someone after they broke down the door. There was blood and fish scales all over your floor and still… Everyone overlooked it. “Are you sure about that?”, “So you went ahead and tried to kill them?”, even “You had no right to attack them like that, they probably needed help.” You won’t be getting any help. 

If you even think about escape, you come out to find your vehicle trashed. Tires slashed, brakes cut, busted up by some kind of instrument and a symbol keyed into it. 

The singing gets to a point where you catch yourself about to walk out the door, sometimes even grabbing your sharpest kitchen knife. 

Summoning 

You end up trying to find information about them. You don’t dare go to the library and worry about the lady at the counter staring down at you and maybe stabbing you in the back. You look it up on your phone. 

You end up deeper than you'd ever thought possible. A cult worshiping an old ancient deity bent on eating the minds of its followers. The cult claims that it's a paradise, when it's quite actually a parasite. 

You wouldn't have believed it a few weeks ago, but after seeing those poor souls… those poor folks with deformed limbs from the beatings and that singing that leave you in terrifying dizzy spells. 

Someone off a forum offers you some help. A sigil to summon another being of destruction capable of destroying the cult that has nearly consumed the town. 

Like it or not, it's your only option at this point, as they now watch every way out of town and have started kidnapping people passing through. 

You find the perfect night. You do the necessary prep, get the correct ingredients and items. You come back out of breath and you begin. 

Every word spoken feels strange… As if you’d done it a million times before. A drop of blood, and a sacrifice. From the magic circle drawn into the floor a strange light began to burn and singed the floor. 

In the flames was a man dressed in a dark and neon hoodie with odd designs. He was sitting cross-legged and his hands were out like he was holding something.

He botches and whines like some teen boy grounded from his electronics. Turns out this actual demon was playing Tetris and you ruined his high score and disqualified him from the compilation. His tail lasted at the circle but the light kept him from doing any damage during his fit of rage. 

He sputtered and stood with a stern and angry expression but was bound inside the summoning circle. He demanded you explain the situation. 

He looks fed up but sighs saying he'll do it. His face is red as he looks at you. You allow him out and he shuffles close and takes your entire form in. He mumbles something under his breath and heads out. 

It takes a while for him to get to a high place, he chooses the water tower as the smilers notice and approach. Some of them are trying to happily lead you back down. Some of them are holding weapons. 

The skies darken, rain clouds form, lighting strikes and waves appear. The streets flood, and you watch in fear and awe as the town you called home is destroyed. 

Even when the flood goes down and leaves absolutely nothing behind besides the water tower, you can't help but stand there. All gone. Everyone died within moments. And the demon you summoned is staring at you. You hardly pay attention to what he was saying. The scene before you… feels too familiar… 

You hear his tone go up, a question. You can only nod as everything you've known is forever gone. He chirps happily and before you know it light surrounds you. 

Then you stand in a moonless sky before a rundown manor. Was it really all gone? And why does this place give you déjà vu? 

[walker-extended-universe]

The Right Moment

Relationship(s): Trey Barnett/Cassie Perez

Tags/Warnings: Injury, Fluff, Feels, Love, Love Confessions, Flirting

Summary: Four times Trey almost told Cassie he loved her and one time he did

Written for @flufftober Day 5: x + 1

taglist: @theladywyn, @ihavepointysticks, @klaatu51, @itsjessiegirl1, @neptunium134

----

The night was perfect. Kelly and Larry were married, the whole Walker family was at peace, and Trey finally felt like he was going somewhere in his life. Maybe it was the wine or maybe he was just happy, but he wanted to live in this moment forever.

He was dancing with Cassie. The lights danced of the disco ball, making a constellation on Cassie’s bare shoulder. It was definitely the wine that made Trey want to kiss it but he could control himself. For now.

He just couldn’t believe this was real. That he was dancing with her. That he’d told her his feelings and she’d returned that. That she was here, laughing in his arms.

He’d never believed in love at first sight. He tried to be more careful with his heart. But despite only really knowing Cassie for less than a year and only just starting a relationship with her tonight, he knew he wanted to be with her forever.

I love you , he thought, listening to her commentary on the other dancers. I love you , he thought, toasting their drinks at the punch table. I love you , he almost said when they parted ways. But he wouldn’t. Not tonight. The timing wasn’t right.

Soon.

—----------

“So, how is it in Florida?”

“Hot. And wet. But the gators aren’t biting so at least I only have dangerous criminals to worry about.”

Trey chuckled. “Well, that’s good. Graves giving you any trouble?”

“Surprisingly, no. She’s been very cooperative. I think it helps that she’s not in charge of this mission though; like we’re pretty much on the same level so she can’t look down on me. Not that she should be in the first place, but whatever. She’s actually pretty decent when she’s not stuck up on her high horse.”

Trey laughed. “Sounds like you two will be making friendship bracelets by the end of the week.”

Cassie snorted. “Yeah, right. Anyway, how’re things back home? Walker almost kill himself yet this week?”

“No, actually. But he almost got himself suspended for breaking chain of command to go after a suspect. I think James was just relieved to catch the guy or Walker would’ve been in his office for a lot longer.”

Cassie chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Is it okay working with him?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine. I think he misses you though,” Trey said. “I caught him longingly looking at your empty chair. I’m sure he’ll be writing longing sonnets for your return in a couple weeks.”

She laughed. “Oh, that poor man. However will he survive without his amazing, spunky, badass partner?”

He chuckled. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll manage somehow.”

There was some noise on Cassie’s end. “Shoot, that’s the end of my break. Boss needs me in a meeting. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure. Tomorrow.”

“Alright. Bye, babe.”

“Bye, Cassie.” I love you was almost instinctive. But he couldn’t say it. Not yet. Not over the phone when she might not even be coming back.

Soon.

—-------

Cassie had the most beautiful smile. Trey didn’t see it often enough.

It’s not that Cassie was a rare smiler. Far from it. Trey just liked seeing her smile.

Which is why he always agreed to watch Hawk’s Shadow with her because that’s when she was at her smiliest. Sure, it was a cheesy show that would barely be background noise for him on a normal day. He wasn’t all that interested in the story and he barely remembered any of the plots once the episode was over. But it made her happy, so he sat with her and let her eat most of the popcorn while they watched.

“Oooooh this is the best part!” Cassie leaned forward and turned up the volume so they could hear better. She sat back on the couch and leaned over to get another mouthful of popcorn. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see she was watching his face more than the screen.

This was the other thing he loved about watching this. She wasn’t just dragging him into this for her own gain; she really wanted to share something she loved with the person she cared about.

Just another reason he loved her. When the episode ended (and he’d given an appropriate reaction to her favorite scene), he almost told her. “Next week, we’re starting Yu-Gi-Oh. I even have a card set so I can teach you to play,” he said instead.

Maybe after she could match his skill level, he’d be ready to lay out that trap card.

—-------

Trey wasn’t exactly a stranger to being shot. He spent most of his career in the military and there was always a risk, even if he was acting as a medic. He’d been shot more times than he cared to admit to his mother.

Having a lot of experience with it didn’t make it any easier to deal with.

“You’re gonna be okay, Trey.” Cassie’s worried face filled his vision. “We’re almost at the hospital and they’re gonna fix you right up, okay? This isn’t going to get you out of meeting my family next week.” She tried to smile; he tried to smile back. Neither of them were successful.

The rest of the car ride was a blur of pain and Cassie’s increasingly frantic voice. Trey wanted to comfort her. It wasn’t a fatal wound, not really. It hurt a lot but as long as he didn’t bleed out too much he’d be okay. He was just too tired.

“Trey?? Trey, honey, don’t fall asleep! Focus on me, okay? Look at me. You’re gonna be okay. We’re almost there.”

I love you . I’ll be back, he promised silently as they loaded him onto a gurney and took him in for surgery.

—------

They both had the day off from work and no other plans. Just them, some good food, maybe some extra time in the sheets. He didn’t realize it before, but Trey had spent so much time in the past few years doing anything and everything to try and ignore the emptiness inside of him. Now, he didn’t feel quite so lonely nor desperate. Now, he could relax and hold the woman he loved in his arms.

Cassie sighed and rolled over to kiss him. “Thank you for turning off our alarms,” she muttered. “I think I would’ve thrown your phone off of the balcony if I had to wake up at 5 on my day off.”

Trey chuckled. “I know you would have. Good thing I’m a smart and good boyfriend who would never dare commit such a crime.”

She hummed and snuggled closer, resting her head on his chest. “Good. That means I can keep you.”

“That so? That’s good news for me. I like it when you keep me around.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this secure. Content. Happy. Loved. He wasn’t sure he ever felt this way with Micki.

“Well, if I’m going to keep keeping you around, I’m going to need some breakfast. I need energy to keep you in line.” She folded her hands on his chest and rested her chin on top of them, giving him her best pout. “Make me french toast?”

He smiled and kissed her. “Anything for the woman I love.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped slightly. It was rare he made her speechless like this. “You….?”

“Yes. I. Love. You,” he said, punctuating each word with another kiss. “Now, I believe I promised you french toast?” He got out of bed and made his way to the kitchen.

The day had only just started and it was already a great one.

[devmimi]

Hello! Only if you could, can i request some headcanons of the hashiras (if it's possible all of them, if not, you can choose whoever you want!) seeing reader (who's also a hashira) as an older sibling figure?? Please and thank you ♡

- ☾

ofc ofc omg i luv writing familial stuff !!! these hcs might b a bit short jus cuz everyone ^^" reader is gn !!

— RENGOKU KYOJURO

rengoku and you have always been close, you two were the life of the party and always checked up regularly. with him becoming a hashira, like you, it felt like fate you two would be the sibling duo to call on when stuff got tough.

like rengoku you are usually a big smiler, hugging people and spinning them around. problem comes when rengoku is the one getting hugged! whoever can spin the other first wins.

rengoku usually entrusts you with his problems, asking you to please care for sengoku when he is gone. you both know the realities of your job.

rengoku knows how capable you are— with you two training together and all, and is constantly asking to test his skills against his big sibling.

— SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA

sanemi isn't as loud with his admirations, just copying you when he sees you and in his mind using your power as another level up.

when sanemi does talk to you he's kinder than the others, quieter to take all your words into account. after you're done he'll scoff and walk off again. but at least he listens.

when sanemi isn't feeling like the typical hardass he invites you out to dinner to show his gratitude.

— IGURO OBANAI

iguro is also quiet but at least he doesn't make a hissy fit about it.

you know he looks up to you by the way he asks you about how to interact with others.

he'll also ask frequently about mitsuri. how to give gifts to her, how to bring up topics, and even how to be sure to show he listens to her.

he's not vocal about calling you his sibling but you know if asked he'd say wasn't it mutual and of course it is.

— GYOMEI HIMEJIMA

gyomei still tries to protect you, even though he's the one that wants guidance.

he enjoys how quiet he can be around you. comfortable and peaceful.

he doesn't talk much to you, but when he does need something you are the first to know.

— GIYUU TOMIOKA

giyuu is constantly complaining with you.

you know why he keeps a physical distance, but as you two grew closer so did the distance.

you two usually have dinner parties together. either to catch up after missions, or just to shit talk about other people.

giyuu steers far away from the past but besides that you can tell he trusts you completely.

— SHINOBU KOCHO

she treats you like her other siblings, caring for you and furrowing her brows when you insist you can tend to yourself.

when you are hurt she's the first to be there. on sight medical assistance before anyone even noticed.

she's very on top of your health, muttering how she hates to see you reckless.

when she's tired, though, she's the one on your shoulder sound asleep.

— UZUI TENGEN

uzui carries you around on his shoulder, the two of you having the best time.

with the fun party sibling duo you two light up rooms and leave in style.

he is gifting you clothing often, and jewelry.

'no family of mine is going to look like rags' he says often to you.

— MITSURI KANROJI

she is always over your house.

you two go out to eat a lot, you helped her get over her fear of eating too much.

she's often over with shinobu and you guys talk about crushes, life, and what missions are next.

you two are as close as can be and it shows!

when you come back from missions she's the first to run over and tackle-hug you.

— MUICHIRO TOKITO

muichiro sees a lot of the hashira as just. there. but you help him feel not so alone.

muichiro saves weeds and such to show you, asking what they are.

you feel bad for how young he is in this, but when he sees that worried look he insists he's fine.

muichiro opens up a lot with you. at random times he'll remember something and mutter about it. then go back to cloud watching.

[blu-joons]

Your Hero ~ Park Seojoon

“Are you alright? You look like you could do with a hand there?”

Your eyes looked across as you struggled to balance your shopping bags on the handles of your pram, meeting the eyes of a smiling figure. His hands were already outstretched as you looked to him, ready to help you as he watched you struggle to walk whilst making sure that nothing fell out of the bags that you carried.

After taking a deep breath, you nodded in reply, allowing him to take the bags off of the left side of your pram handle first. Once they were all in his hand, he moved around to the right side, taking the bags off of there too, not caring how heavy everything was that you had bought.

It felt like a huge weight had been lifted as you found yourself able to steady your pram again, glancing down to see that your baby boy hadn’t stirred at all, still fast asleep and unaware of the fuss that was going on around him.

“Where are we heading with these?” He asked you once he had a grip on everything, watching as you nodded towards the right of the cark park to where your car was.

The two of you found yourselves walking in a slight awkwardness as you tried to figure out the right thing to say to a guy who had helped you out. You weren’t one to ask for help, but with another human being to look after, help suddenly seemed like something that you were desperate for.

“I’m parked here,” you smiled to him as soon as you reached your car.

“I’ll help you put the bag in,” he told you as you reached into your back pocket and pulled out your car keys to unlock your car to get everything in.

You smiled appreciatively back across to him again, “I’ve taken up enough time of your day, you can just put the bags down if you want, I can load it up.”

“In this weather? You must be crazy to want to put your shopping bags down,” he chuckled, “your shopping will blow everywhere, and then you really will find yourself in a muddle.”

Your head nodded, knowing that he made a good point. “At least let me give you something to say thank you,” you tried to offer, but he politely refused, handing the first of the bags to you.

Before you took it, you placed the brakes on the pram, turning it around so that your son was facing you and seeing what you were up to. As he spectated, the man smiled down at him, pulling faces down to him too when he wasn’t handing a bag to you.

“He’s a smiler for sure,” you overheard him speak up as soon as he managed to crack a son out of your smile as he poked his tongue down at him. “Do you not have anyone to help you out doing things? Shopping with a baby can’t be easy,” he sympathised, slightly surprised when your head shook in reply to him.

“It’s just me and him,” you responded, continuing to quickly pack up your car so that he could carry on with his day. “Most of the time we manage just fine, but there are times like today when I wish that we had someone else out and about with us.”

With the final bag was passed to you, you leaned into your car to start rearranging the bags so that nothing spilt over during your drive home.

As you did so, your attention was soon drawn to the sound of light sobs behind you, hurrying to pack up the bags as quickly as you could. The man couldn’t help but glance down at your son as he got teary eyed, placing his hand on the handle of the pram, lifting off the brake to be able to rock it back and forth gently.

“It’s alright buddy, there’s no need to get upset, your mummy will get you home soon.”

“Sorry,” you stuttered as you spun back around, “you didn’t need to do that.”

The man didn’t mind at all as he continued to rock the pram, giving you the chance to sort your car out. As you closed down your boot, the cries of your son seemed to go quiet, checking back on him again to see a smile now on his face.

“How did you do that? Usually, he cries for ages when he’s upset.”

“I don’t know,” he admitted with a shrug of his shoulders, “I just thought I’d do what I’ve seen people do with babies on drama episodes that I’ve watched. Rocking them always seems to work, and I have got a pretty funny face to start with, so that helps too.”

A first laugh came from you in reply to him as you opened up the car door to start placing your son into his car seat. Still the guy remained by your side, rocking your son and keeping him entertained so that you could do everything that you needed to without any distractions, not caring how much of his time you were taking up.

“You’ve got to tell me how you do that.”

Another chuckle came from him as he stood back to allow you to reach into the pram to lift up your son and place him into his car seat that was opposite your seat in the back of the car.

Once he was in, you turned back around only to see your pram already collapsed down. “It didn’t seem too hard for me to do,” he grinned, handing it across to you to place into your car, “they always seem trickier than they actually are.”

“You have been far too kind to me.”

His head shook as you finally finished loading up your car before spinning around and coming face to face with the guy again. You didn’t know where to look or what to do as he stared back across at you too.

“I realise now that I helped you out and never introduced myself, I’m Seojoon.”

“I’m Y/N,” you responded with a shy smile.

“And what about your little man?” Seojoon then asked you.

You glanced into the car to where he was sat, fast asleep. “That’s Y/S/N,” you informed him, “and I also think he might be your biggest fan after you entertained him today.”

“If I’m his biggest fan, how does he feel about seeing me again?” Seojoon then suddenly asked you, “only if his mummy would like to see me again too?” He added, not wanting to startle you with his words.

“You’ve been a bit of a hero for me this afternoon,” you laughed, “a knight in shining armour almost. I think seeing you again, and maybe buying you coffee is the least that I could do.”

Seojoon shook his head at your offer, “every hero treats the lady, if we go out then I’ll find somewhere nice for us to go, and I’ll be the one paying too. I can’t stop being the hero after our first meeting.”

“Does this make me a damsel in distress?” You laughed in reply, “because being a single parent certainly feels a little like that sometimes.”

Seojoon offered you a wide smile, “if you’ll let me help more often, I’d love to. You can start by agreeing to give me your phone number?”

“I think I might be able to agree to that,” you smiled.

“I’ll get my phone; you can save me as your hero.”

---

Masterlist

[lucy90712]

Wilbur soot- amusement park

Request: Hiya! Could you write something about Wilbur confessing his feelings too y/n during Tommy's amusement park vlog?

I made a severe lapse in my judgement when I agreed to go to Alton towers with Tommy, Wilbur and Phil for a vlog. It took a lot of convincing in the first place because I hate rollercoasters but Wilbur assured me everything would be fine and I didn't have to go on the ones I didn't want to which is why I agreed to go but now I'm so nervous. We just arrived and I can already feel my heart rate rising and my hands sweating.

Tommy started his vlog so I had to act like I wasn't about to have a breakdown and it was made worse by having to go on the smiler at the end of the day because one of Tommy's friends said that was the most impressive ride. I’m really not looking forward to that because all of us are going to go on it and I’m so scared but for the vlog I guess.

We started easy by going on this swinging boat thing which I have done before and isn’t too bad so it will be a good start. Each time it swung it made my stomach feel all weird but other than that I enjoyed the ride and we were all singing road trip or trying to as the boat swung back and forth and our breath was taken away as well as laughing but it was definitely fun. It think this is the only thing I’m going to enjoy all day and its the slowest thing too which probably helps and the things Tommy was saying made it better but I think he’s going to be as scared as me later and not be able to say things to distract me.

The next thing I went on with them was a water ride where we were in circular things that go round a course pretty fast as well as spin round. We got in and there was no restraint things and we had to stay seated but as soon as we started to pick up speed I was sliding around so Wilbur got me to move next to him and he put his arm over me to help keep me in place. This was great but we went backwards for a lot of it and ended up getting pretty wet but at least I wasn’t slipping around. I did get nervous when Wilbur put his arm over me because I might have a little crush on Wilbur nothing big but enough to make me blush and he also offered his hand to help me out of the thing too and it was safe to say I was dying inside.

I needed a break after all of that so I sat with the stuff as the others went on the rides which I’m glad about because they looked scary and I just know if I did those I wouldn’t be able to force myself to do the smiler which is why we have been here all day but I’m still so scared to do it. Wilbur has been walking round with me and trying to reassure me it will be fine while telling Tommy we will die for the vlog which has my brain so confused and conflicted about all of this but Wilbur promised me he would be by my side the whole time which is why I’m doing this.

It was finally time and I got onto the rollercoaster next to Wilbur who was smiling like we weren’t about to go on the most intense rollercoaster in the entire park and uk I’m pretty sure. Before we set off he grabbed my hand and held it out of frame of any of the cameras and rubbed his thumb back and forth in an attempt to distract me. It worked for about 10 seconds until we went upside down and I tried to scream but nothing came out I was that scared. Wilbur tightened his grip on my hand and started to talk sort of quietly so the others in front couldn’t hear what he was saying.

“Y/n I like you” he said

“I like you too Wilbur” I replied

“No like more than a friend” he clarified

Thats when my brain went into shit down mode I had no idea what to say or whether he was being serious so I just said how I felt in hopes that he was joking I could play it off that way too.

“Me too Will” I said

Then the ride ended and shakily I got myself off with Wilbur’s help and once we found a place to stand where there wasn’t many people he gave me an hug to help me calm down and I think he needed one too.

“I meant what I said on the ride my the way it wasn’t part of the vlog” he said

“I was telling the truth too” I whispered nervously

“Then will you go on a date with me not to a theme park?” He asked

“I would love to” I said

[chaoticpuff17]

Something Wicked

part 1

masterlist

Hello darlings! Here it is the first chapter of Something Wicked! A huge thank you to you all for the encouragement and a special thankyou to @36impala​ for putting up with my whiny ass and keeping me on track. Love you all! I hope you enjoy!--- chaotic puff. 

Kim Seokjin was a successful man, a powerful man, which was why for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out how this had happened? How could his charms not work against her? How could she ignore his advances? He was handsome, rich, charming, everything a woman could want, everything every other woman did want. What was wrong with her? How could she refuse him? Didn’t she realize she was his? His precious darling?  

This was what Kim Seokjin contemplated as he looked out of his office window and out towards the desk where his personal assistant sat proper as ever. Jin sighed to himself looking over the woman who had completely overtaken his thoughts. She was soft and demure, and the only assistant who had lasted more than a month with him. In the four years she’d worked for him, she had only ever been the epitome of efficiency. She knew his routines, his likes, his dislikes, and how to expertly field the calls he didn’t want to deal with. She was perfect.

He’d been flirting with her from the start. How could he not? She was very pretty and he? He was world wide handsome. It was his duty to flirt with the pretty women of the world and be worshiped in return, but she only ever met his advances with a polite smile and a redirection to more professional topics. It had only been in the past year or so that he had begun to seriously try to woo her, and yet she still remained unmoved.  

She refused every invitation for lunch, every invitation to join him for coffee in the afternoons. She refused to join him for dinner. How could she not see that they were perfect for each other? What other woman was so well suited to his needs? She had been molded to perfection by his own hands, but she was either too naïve or too stupid to realize that it seemed. His poor stupid darling. If she couldn’t see it on her own, he would just have to make her see it.

“Y/N-ie…” He called out his voice more of a croon than anything demanding. He watched amused as she sighed to herself rising from her desk to come to him. Such a good girl for him, always coming when he called.

“Yes, sajangnim?” She asked entering the room and bowing politely. Such good manners, he noted pleased.

“Y/N-ie,” He cooed leaning forward on his desk flashing her a dazzling smile. “I’m thirsty. Bring tea for two won’t you, darling?”

Y/N smiled suppressing a sigh. She was long used to her boss’ flirtatious behavior and chose to ignore it. “I’ll bring the tea right away, sajangnim.” She agreed bowing again before leaving the room to fulfill his request.

The smile immediately fell as soon as she was out of sight replaced with a light scowl as she went to prepare tea just the way he liked it. If there was one thing she had learned in her time with Kim Seokjin it was that he was picky and demanded perfection from everyone around him. Everything had to be done just so for him. After all how could one provide anything less to the self-proclaimed world wide handsome?

She rolled her eyes at the thought. It wasn’t a secret that her boss was overwhelmingly arrogant. Everyone who worked for him knew that. It was painstakingly obvious to anyone who lived or worked in close proximity to the man. It was taxing, but at the very least he paid well. If he didn’t she would have quit after the first week with him, but somehow she had managed to survive four years as his personal assistant. It was the single most pitied position in the entire building. Everyone knew how demanding he was. The brunt of those demands was taken by whatever poor soul was his assistant. Not even the entire team of secretaries devoted to him got it quite as badly as his personal assistant did.

She was in charge of everything. His meals, his work schedule, his social calendar, everything. She was even the one that had to field the calls from his paramours and send out what seemed to be an endless stream of flowers, and sometimes jewelry depending on how much he liked the lady in question. As a result she knew far more about his personal life than she would have liked to.  

Another one of the secretaries found her in the kitchen fixing the tea as well as arranging the ridiculously overpriced cookies that their boss preferred on a plate.

“Is it that time of the afternoon already?” Hana asked arching a brow.

“Every afternoon like clockwork.”

They both laughed lightly both knowing how exasperating their boss could be, but at least he was consistently exasperating. “Did he ask you to join him again?”

“Of course.”

“And you’re going to bring him tea for one.”

“As always.” She agreed flashing a bright smile at the other woman. “He doesn’t pay me enough to sit and have tea with him.”

Hana hummed in agreement grabbing herself a cup of coffee. “I don’t know how you do it. He’s always so… him.”

“You mean world wide handsome?” She laughed framing her face with her hands and flashing a scrunchy smile before dropping the pose and rolling her eyes. “It is what it is. I won’t be working her forever, and I can put up with him till then.”

Hana’s eyes widened in horror. “You’re not allowed to leave us. He’s going to be completely insufferable if you leave!”

“Well I’m not quitting now. I have to save up for a wedding, for a life outside of this office.”

“Is Min Seok going to propose?” Hana asked excitedly nearly dropping her cup of coffee.

“I hope so.” She smiled blushing slightly. “We’ve been dating for over a year, and it seems like he’s been hinting at it.”

“Can I come to the wedding?”

“If there is a wedding, you can definitely come.” She laughed pouring the tea into the china that was specially set aside for the boss.

“Isn’t he trying for that position in Busan?” She asked sipping at her coffee.

She sighed frowning slightly. “He is, but we haven’t heard anything.”

“If he gets it will you go with him?”

Min Seok was a good guy, an amazing guy, but they hadn’t discussed the logistics of what would happen if he took the position in Busan. Her life was in Seoul, and as of yet, he hadn’t asked her to go with him. While Y/N was a patient woman by nature, not knowing was making her antsy.

“I suppose we’ll figure that out when he gets the job.” Her smile was dimmed now as doubts nagged at the back of her mind. “Now I should get this to him.”

“Good luck, Y/N-ssi. You know how annoyed he gets when you ignore him.” Hanna shuddered before taking another sip of her coffee.  

“It’ll be fine. The worst he can do is fire me.” She shrugged picking up the tray and heading back to the CEO’s office pasting on a bright smile before she entered.

“I have your tea, sajangnim.”

He looked at her from his position on the sofa where he had been waiting for her. He did this every day. He’d send her for tea for two and move to the sofa to wait for her. The expression dropped into a pout noting the fact that there was only one cup on the tray. There was always only one cup on the tray. “I thought I requested tea for two?”

“I don’t think that would be appropriate, sajangnim.” She bowed keeping her smile in place before she set the tray down on the table only to jerk back when Jin’s fingers brushed against hers. She tried to cover up her mistake by making her smiler brighter. Jin could never know that she was uncomfortable with him. She hated whenever he touched her. It somehow made her feel dirty especially as she knew his history with women.  

“How many times do I have to ask you to call me Jin?” He scolded his mood darkening even though he kept on a mask of playful congeniality as he watched her retreat taking a cautious step backward admiring the way her skirt hugged her hips. God, he loved those tight little pencil skirts of hers.

“One more time, as always, sajangnim.”

He asked her at least once a day for her to speak to him informally, and she always refused. While he refused to keep the lines of their relationship professional, she did all she could to keep those boundaries in place. Referring to him by title was one of the ways she did that. Kim Seokjin was not a man she was overly interested in knowing. She knew too much about him already.

While she was annoyed by his lack of formality, Jin found himself annoyed with her refusal to comply with his wishes. It was one more thing he would have to fix before she became truly perfect. She would get there eventually. It would just take a little more effort on his part.

“It’s just a name, darling.”  She had to fight back a cringe at the endearment. She was by no means his darling, and it was a constant source of discomfort for both her and Min Seok. “Just one little name.”

“I don’t think it would be appropriate.” There was a slight tick in her jaw at his jaw at her words. His poor darling, ever the polite little thing, so warm and caring.

He loved how warm she was, the soft scent of roses that wafted from her. It was her favorite perfume. The one she wore most often, and a gift from him. The French perfume had been given under the guise of a birthday gift. It made him practically bristle with pride to know that she wore it. It had taken ages for him to get her to accept the gift. He loved the scent on her, a constant reminder that she was his.

“Please, enjoy your tea.” She bowed again turning to leave the room.

“Oh, and darling?” He called out watching her closely as she turned to face him again standing to meet her placing a hand on the small of her back. “I need you to escort me to the ballet next Saturday evening.”

He expected immediate acceptance of his invitation, but was instead met with a look of shock and confusion as she recoiled from his touch stealing her warmth from him.  

“The what? You don’t have any social events on your calendar for next Saturday.” She was running through her schedule in her head, and she still couldn’t recall any mention of the ballet on it. She tried to hide her discomfort by fixing her smile again though the expression was more nervous than she expected.

“The Russian ballet is visiting.” He explained. “I’ll be attending next Saturday evening with you by my side.”

“I’m sorry sir, but I can’t.” It was becoming harder and harder to maintain her smile as she faced him.

His brows furrowed, his own smile falling at her refusal. “It wasn’t a request, darling.” His dark eyes glittered as he watched her, daring her to refuse him again before he placed a pout on his lips. “You wouldn’t want me to be lonely at the ballet would you?”

“I’m very sorry sir, but I really can’t. I would be happy to arrange for the lady of your choice to accompany you though.”

“You are the lady of my choice.” His eyes grew more and more stormy the more she refused him. No one refused Kim Seokjin.

“I don’t think it would be appropriate for either of us, sajangnim.”

“We’ve been working together for four years now, Y/N. I thought we would be closer by now.” He pouted voice low bordering on a growl but not quite there.

“I don’t think my boyfriend would approve of my accompanying you to this event.” She bowed again smile strained hoping that he would drop it now that she had given him a reason why she couldn’t go with him. “I’m very sorry for any inconvenience this causes you.”

She bowed again before scurrying out of the room leaving a fuming Kim Seokjin behind her.

How could she refuse him in favor of another man? Didn’t she know who he was? When had she even gotten a boyfriend? He kept her so busy. When did she even have the time to date? Who was dumb enough to date his girl, his darling? Hadn’t he made it clear to everyone that she was his? Didn’t she realize she was his? Yes, he had his dalliances while he waited for her to come around, but she was above such things. She was his.

He picked up his phone calling one of his bodyguards. “I need everything you can dig up on Jang Y/N and the man she’s been seeing. Now.” He ordered voice a low growl.

For three years, he had kept tabs on her, but she was such an angel, his perfect angel, nothing ever turned up. He’d had his men stop gathering information on her, clearly a mistake on his part. He sighed trying to calm himself. It wasn’t his darling’s fault. He’d been lax. He’d turned his attention away from her, and she’d gone running to another man to make up for it, his poor stupid darling. It was something he intended to remedy immediately.

His gaze locked on the woman sitting outside at her desk fixated on the gentle slope of her neck as she looked over some papers. Yes, he would remedy his mistake post haste.

part 2

[drawbauchery]

The Inherent Eroticism of Clowning

fic by cartoons-tothemoon

At some point, Rico realized that Kowalski wasn’t a smiler.

He wouldn’t call the guy happy or well-adjusted, but, then again, could he even call himself that? And he smiled all the time!

But Kowalski…

It wasn’t like he was an especially angsty guy, he was just…moody. Emotional. Maybe even more so than Private. Private had two modes that he volleyed through, and otherwise remained at a middle point of the emotional equilibrium where he was just…fine. Skipper’s emotional state also seemed to be apathetic unless under great stress. But Kowalski? Kowalski bounced back and forth between that spectrum, it might as well been like watching a tennis game.

It fascinated him on some level that their resident nerd seemed to share many of the same instabilities as he did, and on some level, he was able to find a kinship in that.

Of course, Kowalski was never receptive of such a friendship, and why would he be? It would mean, on some level, admitting to being some sort of freak. An overly-emotional basket case with some unexamined problems here and there.

Sure, it was fine to BE like that, but admitting to it meant some form of culpability. The only reason Rico usually didn’t have to deal with consequences like that was because Skipper didn’t usually bother over-examining the issues that laid before him or the little discipline he gave him was harsh and swift enough to be a simple slap of the cuffs for five minutes before Rico could go on with his life.

Kowalski wasn’t the type to receive a slap on the wrist. He was, for lack of a better word, good. Not morally good, but, good by the standards of the team. He could be building his third edition of a death ray, but as long as he stayed out of Skipper’s way in the morning he might as well be a saint.

Come to think of it, Kowalski stayed out of everybody’s way, pretty much. Sure, they ate meals together and watched movies, but unless Skipper called them together or he had something to show off, he mostly kept to himself. He was usually in his lab or in Private’s greenhouse…

These were the facts as Rico knew them. Kowalski was a paradoxically over-emotional logical man of science, who gave off the vibes of being a gifted student in grade school, and kept to himself.

And he wasn’t a smiler. Over-emotional, yes, overly positive emotions? Not quite.

Rico figured it was his job to change that.

———

Over breakfast that morning, Private and Skipper went through their strange morning charade of being simultaneously open and loving and incredibly repressed, which, made for good entertainment on slow days.

However, this was not going to be one of those slow days. He had the lofty goal of trying to make Kowalski not only smile, but laugh. Laughter was easier to gain without just simply asking than smiling. It was sudden and explosive, while smiling was quiet and demure. Not his style, but he was looking for something of the same effect.

And besides, to get a genuine smile out of him in the first place, what was he really going to do? Complimenting him would feel weird, and anything else felt like uncharted waters for a reason. He might be known as the impulsive and weird one, willing to dive into anything, but, that came to violence and action. Those things made sense to him. Social things, even benign ones like these with people who he has known for years, had their own rolling tides associate with them. He didn’t know if these seas would treat him unfavorably, but he would never truly know until he took the plunge.

As plates were set down on the table of some weird sort of Russian pancake that Private had found on the internet and had wanted to test out in the kitchen, a thing that seemed to make him rather proud, enthusiastic to try something new, Rico dropped a line in Kowalski’s direction he had found on the internet.

A spoon was dropped.

Private looked scandalized, his palms practically super-glueing themselves to his face in shock. Skipper looked a little horrified, eyes briefly flittering to Private to read his reaction. Yeah, he saw that. Kowalski seemed to share in this same look of horror, jaw agape, blinking once or twice to get a read on the situation before letting out something of a confused scoff?   - He was guessing that was what it was - before he wrapped a hand around his mouth too and turned to the side to cough.

He couldn’t guess what his own face looked like, but he guessed it was a little vacant, at the least. didn’t see anything wrong with what he said, but he probably should’ve guessed he’d be wrong about that given his track record.

And that was how Rico once again found himself forever trapped in the ‘too horny on main’ corner that seemed to exist only because of him, with cold blintzes and an empty kitchen to return to.

He was forced to acknowledge it. In the event of being given the choice to sink or swim, he sunk. And everyone knew he did.

———

Upon reflection, Rico was starting to think that Kowalski might have been a happier person than he thought he was. He knows that whenever Private tells him a lame pun or joke, he gives a small laugh or two to keep him from getting discouraged. Not to mention, whenever Skipper praises an invention, be it an actual “good work, Kowalski!” or a back-handed “I like that it hasn’t killed us yet” seems to make him rather excited, though that could just be the pure enthusiasm he has when it comes to his work carrying him through a demonstration.

Come to think of it, Kowalski doesn’t smile a lot around him. He might if they’re in a group, when they’re all celebrating something with this big mob mentality thing going for them, but, otherwise. Nah.

Maybe this is because they don’t hang out a lot? He WAS banned from the lab. There was a sign and everything.

Maybe he just didn’t like him all that much? It’s not like he ever SAID anything really, but who could be for certain?

These were the things he had to think about while he braided Julien’s hair. Well, tried to, anyhow. He didn’t exactly understand how it worked, and no matter how many times Julien explained it to him, even that day, he didn’t think he was ever going to get it. However, on some level, it was their “thing” to do together, on days where they didn’t feel like doing anything but lounging around, but still wanted to do something more than watch TV. So, that seemed to be their afternoon, trying to figure out a French braid while he contemplated the emotional state of another man. It would sound almost scandalous if Julien didn’t know.

“You are like, the funniest guy on the planet,” Julien stated. “The idea that he can’t even shine a smile at you is a thing that is preposterous.”

Rico hummed at that, giving him a small head scratch that had Julien reaching for his hand to keep at the motion, but his mind was still somewhat elsewhere.

Julien probably only thought such a thing because he already liked Rico, and this love  of his had made him dumb. Just yesterday he read online that he should microwave a metal spoon before having ice cream, so it’s easier to scoop out of the tin, and Kowalski had to save what he referred to as his “souped-up electromagnetic baby” from such an act as soon as the sparking had drawn his attention.

Yes, truly it was love that had made him dumb. Nothing else, be it circumstances nor his general careless nature, could be the cause of such a thing.

At least the microwave thing had made Julien laugh. Watching Kowalski scramble from his seat at the kitchen table to wrestle a uranium-powered microwave off the counter, forgetting in his panic that he could’ve simply unplugged the thing. Such an act toppled him over, almost crushing him underneath the device. Julien found the erratic movement funny enough to laugh, even if it turned Kowalski three shades of a flustered red in the face afterwards.

Rico was also there. He knew what was going to happen when Julien had suggested it, and wanted to watch the sparks fly with him. He should’ve expected Kowalski to prevent them from absolutely destroying his creation, but he didn’t expect that.

Perhaps Kowalski was full of surprises like that. Multi-faceted. A puzzle.

That almost frustrated Rico more. He HATED puzzles. He liked things direct. To the point. Muddling through ambiguity was just such a weird and fussy thing to him. There was a reason he was the only one in the group with a functional romantic relationship that was able to stand more than three months of time, but it wasn’t that easy.

For one, Julien had asked first.

For second…what was he even supposed to say? “Have you secretly hated me this entire time or are my jokes just simply that terrible that you can’t even smile in my presence out of principle?” That was too direct. That got to the heart of this weird insecurity that had only popped up in the last week, and Kowalski seemed like the type to be frightened by that kind of thing.

And besides, the last thing Rico wanted was to look insecure. The second last thing Rico wanted, though, was to BE insecure, so those two conflicting thoughts sort of kept him from taking action. Or, at the very least, taking action at this point in time.

He was considered sort of an absolutist in his own right. An all-or-nothing sort of guy. However, that didn’t mean he was incapable of walking the thin line of gray that lined the black and white.

He just wasn’t capable of doing that right now.

After all, he was trying to learn how to braid a French braid.

———

Rico decided to lay relatively low for the rest of the day. Nothing during lunch, no weird comments during dinner. Nothing.

Sure, he still talked, but, it was a casual sort of thing. All very shallow stuff like “hey, how was your day?” Or “hey, dinner was pretty good tonight.” You know, normal things that sounded so utterly strange out of him. He might as well have been flying a kite at night, that’s how unsavory he guessed it came off given the ire that Skipper gave him during dinner, though Private seemed to welcome it.

It was a movie night tonight, though, and it was Rico’s turn to pick, so he figured he’d take advantage of the situation he was in. Especially since Private and Skipper were busy making up the popcorn (why there needed to be two of them when they weren’t even using it as an excuse to make out, he’d never know) and Julien and Maurice were chilling in the other corner of the room, reading or looking at their phones or something of the sort.

He had to seize the opportunity that he had so carelessly squandered earlier.

Rico flickered through a bunch of action movies, a few catching his eye for later viewings, but none of them really appealing to him at the moment.

He turned to Kowalski and shrugged.

“Y-You got any n-nature docu-documentaries you’re lo-looking to watch?”

“Are you feeling alright?”

“O-Only if they’re, if they’re cool.”

Kowalski seemed a little surprised at this. He shrugged. “There’s one about anacondas I’ve been looking to watch.”

“A-Are you s-sure that isn’t m-meant f-for pri-private viewing?”

Kowalski had to take a second to think about it before returning slightly scandalized, though more mad than anything else really. “It’s the REPTILE. That’s a dated joke even by your standards.”

Rico laughed a little to himself before sobering up. “I g-guess I ha-have been acting, acting weird t-today.”

Kowalski regarded this at first dryly, but then with a touch more compassion than Rico thought he was capable of showing towards him. “Oh, uh,” he began elegantly.

Rico sighed. “There’s-there’s a lot of el-elements t-to how I’m f-feeling, ya know?”

It looked as if Kowalski was about to put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, but he seemed to hesitate for a reason Rico didn’t understand that well, but also didn’t want explained.

“Yeah. L-lots of el-elements. H-hydrogen, Ox-oxygen, RadoN, Yttri-yttrium…The lot.” He sighed once more, trying to keep the smirk from sliding onto his face.

The hesitant hand that was at first drawn to Rico’s shoulder found a place under his chin as Kowalski slowly thought about what he said and how he compiled it together. When Kowalski realized, his eyes widened and Rico received a punch in the arm as Kowalski laughed, genuinely LAUGHED at such a stupid, corny science joke! He could’ve sworn Kowalski would’ve called him a son of a bitch as he did if he was that type of a guy. Seeing him laugh made Rico laugh too, with a sense of camaraderie that came with it, which kept Kowalski laughing as well in a sort of self-perpetuating cycle.

Rico let out a heavy breath as he had finally gotten it out of his system, and out of the corner of his eye, saw something he had never really picked up on before.

When Kowalski laughed, perhaps for too long, or maybe a little too much, or he just didn’t want anyone to pick up on it, he went to cover his mouth with his hand. It helped to mask the emotion somewhat, and it wasn’t the first time Rico picked up on the motion as a way to maintain a pokerface, but he saw it in a somewhat new light, so to speak.

He just had to be casual about it.

“Y-you do that every time?”

“What? Oh.” Kowalski said, hiding a smile behind his fist, though to call it hiding was generous in its own right, if not inaccurate. It was more of a self-soothing gesture. A comforting gesture, more than anything else. “Well, we can’t let you get too egotistical, huh.”

Then it took Rico a moment to think, and Kowalski used the time to grab the remote and select the documentary. When Kowalski pressed play, that’s when he realized it, “you mean this morning you-!?”

“Shh! It’s starting.”

———

“They didn’t even wait for the popcorn.” Private pouted, his arms wrapped around the largest bowl they could find in the kitchen.

“Did you hear how they were dancing around each other? Get a clue, am I right?” Skipper muttered as he grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl.

Despite their misgivings and their grumblings, they too soon could be found in front of the television for a movie night, even for a movie like this.

(I didn’t want to genuinely write out some sort of ass-clapping joke, but that’s probably the kind of joke Rico told. I know it in my heart, but with the ambiguity there you can kill the author who killed the previous author, so to speak and say what kind of joke he made. I capitalized the parts of the elements that spell out the secret message. You learn something new every day, but nobody ever said you learned something useful every day. You just happened to today. )

[victorluvsalice]

-->They immediately arrived in the middle of a thunderstorm! *facepalm* I SWEAR, every time I travel... I promptly got the weather machine out of Build/Buy, stuck it on the right side of the lot (where it seemed least likely to block Sim traffic), and had Smiler set it to “clear skies” while Victor and Alice amused themselves with some chess (Alice won, to Victor’s slight annoyance XD). Smiler was successful and went to chat with them as the weather slowly but surely cleared up (though the game took its price by busting their umbrella), then – once the skies were blue and everyone was out of their wet clothes and into nice dry warm weather outfits – I had Victor challenge Smiler to a match while I sent Alice off to a nearby easel in the world to paint some of the benches and trees in the frankly very pretty cherry-blossom tree park behind her. :) Victor managed to win the game against Smiler – guess he was determined to make up for his loss to Alice. XD Once I was sure they were done, I had Smiler head to the front of the park and drink a plasma fruit to make sure they weren’t thirsty, then had Victor hit them with the old Scruberoo to make sure they were clean –

-->And then had Smiler set up the snack stand and start a food sale! Featuring Alice’s strawberry fizz cupcakes, pumpkin spice waffles, blueberry pie, and remaining banana split waffles from the last sale (which – I THOUGHT the game had said were spoiled when I first looked in Smiler’s inventory, but then they were fine again after I started moving items into the stand? O.o Game, what – actually, I won’t complain about you unspoiling my food, carry on) and Victor’s everything bagels. Things were a bit slow at first, so I left Smiler tending the table and instead focused on keeping Victor busy with collecting insects (a couple of locusts fluttering around the park) and making a digital painting of a bench by the big circle fountain a little ways away (which ended up being a masterpiece, nice). Once Victor was sufficiently occupied, I checked back in on Smiler, but only one potential customer had shown up – dude named Patrick who I recognized from the last update at the grocery store. Well, at least that suggested he would buy something! I had Smiler give him a sales pitch, which didn’t seem to do much unfortunately –

Then realized Victor was already done with his painting, whoops. Forgot the ones on the digital sketchpad go WAAAY faster than the ones on the easel! I had him come back and plant a bluebell in the public planters in the park, then tend the plants and before settling in for a bit of cloudgazing while I went back to Smiler. A few more people had shown up by this point, including Marcus Flex and L. Faba from the Magic Realm. Smiler greeted and made insta-friends with Marcus Flex, as is their wont, picking up a new like for High-Energy Sims in the process (seems legit). I kept an eye on them and tried to have them hit as many Sims with sales pitches as they could –

[scullysexual]

Zombie AU That Really Isn’t A Zombie AU (II)

Zombie AU (but not really) | Emily Fic | idkwhatimdoing | Random Moments |

Part I | AO3

I don’t exactly know what I’m doing. These are just going to be random moments that follow no linear pattern, I’m just gonna throw them out and later on maybe piece them together. I’m basically just writing what I want.

[Dana meets Fox]

- - - 

The shotgun is cocked and ready. All she needs to do is pull the trigger and he is dead, whatever body part she chooses to point at blasted off. It could be quick or it could be slow, it’s all up to her.

“Put your hands up and face the wall.”

The shadowed figure does as he’s told. He’s human at least. Still, she doesn’t trust him, keeping the gun trained on him as he turns.

“Fine,” he says his back now to her. “But don’t shoot me. I got shot once and I didn’t enjoy it.”

There’s humour in there but she doesn’t find it funny. She moves towards him, the gun still pointed at him.

“Is it just you?” she asks him.

The man scoffs. “Be stupid running around here alone, don’t you think?”

There’s more. Another? Or two, three, four- a whole hoard? She isn’t in the mood for games.

“Just answer the damn question!”

“I just hope you know how to use that shotgun.”

She doesn’t have time to ponder what that means. A shout from the next room has her attention diverted.

“You psychotic bitch!”

It’s enough for the man to turn around, grab the end of her shotgun, yanking it towards him and booting her in the chest.

Dana lands with a thud on the wood floor, coughing, the wind knocked out of her.

It’s her turn to stare down the barrel of a gun.

There are still shouts from the other room, the sound of something hard hitting bone. She hopes to god it’s not Emily being hit.

She keeps eye contact with the man. Now facing her and standing in the light, she can see his face. Hidden under a flap of hair, there’s no menace in his eyes just awareness. He’s no older than she is.

Dana looks to the gun then back to the man.

“You wouldn’t shoot me with my own gun, would you?” she asks.

He’s about to answer when a brown-haired girl Dana’s never seen before barrels out of the adjoining room. Her clothes are bloody and she’s clutching her side.

Behind her is Emily wielding a piece of wood she must of found somewhere. It’s held high, ready to strike at any moment.

The man is distracted this time and Dana uses it to her opportunity, just as he had done. She kicks the shotgun aside, knocking it out of his hands, and jumps up towards him. Her hands are yanking him down by his hair, a knife poised at his throat.

“I’m gonna kill you!” Emily cries her eyes blazing with fury.

“Fucking hell, okay!” the girl’s other hand is outstretched towards Emily, signalling her to stop. She hunches over, clutching the old torn-up couch, trying to catch her breath. “Just give me a minute,” she huffs out.

Meanwhile Dana stays focused on her task.

“Oh, you’re good,” the man says wearing a stupid smile one should not be wearing in this situation.

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t slit your throat,” Dana says.

The man grins. “I’m not going to kill you. Is that a good enough reason?”

Dana’s unsure whether to trust him or not but he’s there, smiling like an idiot and Dana hasn’t met many smilers.

“Like hell!” the other girl shouts. “A fucking child just tried to kill me.”

“Shut up, Sam!” the man shouts. “Sam” huffs then winces in pain.

The man looks back at Dana. “I’ll give you some food if you let me go.”

Dana looks towards Emily who limply holds her wooden stick by her side. They both look at the girl who can barely breathe let alone fight, and the man Dana’s still holding at knife-point who’s still smiling at her.

“Alright, Smiley,” she says, releasing him. She doesn’t put her gun away, however. “What have you got to eat?”

The man tosses his backpack off his shoulders and onto the floor.

“Take your pick,” he says.

[husbandomail-archive]

hi it’s me again! since you wanted requests can I get something similar to my previous ask, with hcs of taichi, banri, and juza pining/having unrequited feelings for the Director?

This is a good idea,,,, I like it

I hope these are okay!!

Taichi:

In all honesty, Taichi’s used to it. He’s been emotionally neglected for the vast majority of his life, so although it’s unpleasant, he’s really not surprised when you keep laughing off his confessions, apparently not even realizing he’s serious. It. . . doesn’t hurt any less, though.

We’ve already seen that he’s very much a stepford smiler; although he’s really sad you won’t return his affections, he’s good at hiding it under layers of loud voices and hair dye. He tries not to let it publicly bother him, and he continues throwing himself enthusiastically into acting, or learning a new hobby, or anything else he can find as a distraction.

Taichi isn’t very good at subtlety, though. He tries to continue interacting with you normally, but sometimes it’s just too much to be with you and know you don’t feel the same; he’s on and off about being able to spend time with you, or blatantly avoiding you because he’s trying not to cry.

Banri:

Banri, on the other hand, is not used to rejection. He’s had plenty of women— of all ages— confess to him; the fact that he, personally, went out of his way to try confessing to you, only to get shut down? He grins and says he was kidding, but inside, he’s reeling. What the hell is he supposed to do now?

He’d get skittish. Maybe he could've recovered if rejection had come in some other form, but the fact that it happened when he was being so vulnerable is just too much for him. He retreats back into himself and pushes other people away; when you notice and try to check on him, all he does is smile, tell you he’s fine, try to get you to just leave him alone already.

It definitely tanks his confidence, and that spills over into his acting, or anything else he tries doing. He can’t focus anymore, and he gets more volatile; he’s back to starting fights in the street when he gets too angry. He just can’t wrap his mind around why you’d reject him, and now he’s too afraid to try again once he’s older.

Juza:

Juza is the least likely of the three to actively confess. He probably starts testing the waters; doing small things that are open to interpretation on if they’re romantic or not, judging how you react before he makes his own decisions. When it becomes clear you only see him as a friend, he decides to just keep his feelings to himself.

Despite not being directly rejected, Juza gets a bit awkward around you anyways— and that’s saying something, because he’s already awkward when it comes to interacting with people. He has trouble looking you in the eye for awhile, and he feels guilty about not being able to stop liking you.

Once he gets over his awkwardness, he tries to find a good balancing point, because he legitimately does want to stay with you in any way he can. On a scale of one to Masumi, he starts sitting a bit lower than Masumi, always offering to go places with you or help you with anything you need. He doesn’t care if it riles up the other boy— he’s happy as long as he can stay with you somehow.

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #5- Delphi Has a Two-Star Rating On Yelp

Issue #4 left off with some pretty raw dialogue from Fortress Maximus.

Now, that’s a lot of hot talk from a guy who looks like he’s wearing fairy wings. Hope you got some walk to back it up, Fort Max.

FUCK YEAH YOU DO HOLY SHIT THAT’S AWESOME.

And would you look at that! Got some familiar posing going on here.

Considering Fort Max just woke up from a years-long coma, and before that had spent three years under Overlord’s sadistic thumb, this sort of parallel might be cause for concern, but I’m sure it’s fine.

It’s fine!

After Fort Max comes down from his adrenaline high and stops cutting folks’ heads off with his titty flaps, Ratchet can finally address the downturn in Drift’s health, as he lays on the floor rusting to death. Turns out the two of them have a bit of a past, but we won’t be getting anything of substance out of that little detail, because Pharma’s decided to pull a gun on Ambulon.

He claims that Ambulon is the one who released the Decepticons from their cells, and that he’s most likely also the cause of the virus. Why? Because Ambulon used to be a Decepticon himself! Gasp!

Ambulon cops to having defected 10 years prior, which is that a long time for Transformers or not? It’s vague. Their sense of time dilation as a species is never actually addressed in canon.

Then First Aid pulls a gun on Pharma, saying that Pharma’s full of shit, because while Ambulon was busy being threatened, he rooted around in the Decepticons’ corpses and found something that shouldn’t have been there: their transformation cogs.

Then Ratchet reaches for his gun, demanding that Pharma switch to his alt-mode. When he refuses, that seals the deal on Ratchet’s theory- the virus doesn’t become active until after the infected changes their shape. That’s why Pipes and Drift are currently not-bleeding out on the floor after having been at Delphi for twenty minutes at most, but First Aid and Ambulon are perfectly fine.

I mean, fine outside of what’s probably equivalent to a major kidney infection being left untreated and turning into a leg.

C’mon, Ratchet, that’s the thing he’s sensitive about!

And then Rung comes out of nowhere and pulls out HIS gun-

No, that doesn’t happen.

What does happen is that Pharma shoots the life support machines and bolts, leaving the other doctors with twenty machine-dependent patients who will die without intervention.

Ambulon, on what fucking planet is First Aid not taking initiative? This guy’s done more in the last two days than you’ve probably done in the last year. Look at Ratchet back there, he knows how to properly appreciate a go-getter.

Fort Max runs after Pharma as Ratchet finally peels Drift off the floor and gets him into a bed. Drift, who’s pretty convinced that he’s going to die today one way or another, goes full sad cat and begs Ratchet to mercy-kill him, seeing as this is the planet the DJD base a majority of their operations out of, and the likelihood of Pharma being involved with them is looking real good right about now. The sprinklers have gone off, people are flat-lining, Ratchet disregards his own health and safety for that of a patient, transforming to give him a reboot, Fort Max comes back empty-handed because he’s too got-danged big to fit down the trapdoor Pharma went through, and the whole situation is really just the hugest mess.

Let’s check in on the Lost Light, shall we?

The boots are still real, y’all. Those goddamn fucking hooves come off, I’m telling you.

So, Tailgate’s come to a decision. Again. He wants to be an Autobot this go around, though, which sits a whole lot better with Ultra Magnus.

But why bother joining a faction now? The war’s over. Turns out, Tailgate’s feeling a little lonely, because no matter how successful you are, it just won’t fill the hole in your heart quite like being a part of a found family narrative does.

Magnus, moved by Tailgate’s openness and equally impressed by his positively ridiculous resume, agrees to help him prepare for the rite of Autobrand.

Of course, Magnus being Magnus, isn’t going to do this in any sort of half-measure; he’s going to go through the entire 10,000 pages of the Autobot Code, line by line, word by word, punctuation mark by punctuation mark, breaking it all down through multiple schools of thought to garner the deepest possible understanding of what it means to be an Autobot. Tailgate, though horrified by the prospect of so much studying, agrees, and a glorious two-man act is established.

Meanwhile, over in Rung’s office, the good doctor is ruminating on his history with one of his most prolific patients, Red Alert.

Red Alert’s been under Rung’s care since before the war even started, which seems to contradict issue #1’s claim that Rung was his psychiatrist for six centuries, but perhaps the case file got bounced around as Red Alert’s stationings changed.

Which doesn’t bode terribly well, considering Rung is, again, pretty much the only mental health specialist for the entirety of Cybertron.

Red Alert’s been diagnosed with Paranoid Personality Disorder, and it seems like it’s a pretty intense case, or at least it was before Rung got ahold of him. Red Alert had been doing better, and his military career had flourished as a result.

And then the war friggin’ ended, and it looks like the lack of routine- violence-based or otherwise- might be causing a bit of a backslide.

Red Alert’s been hearing noises, ones only he seems to be able to perceive.

Then again, he seems to have some pretty banging ears, so maybe he’s on to something.

The only problem is that where he’s hearing these noises doesn’t make any sense, because he’s hearing them under the basement, where there should be nothing other than the cold silence of space, according to the schematics of the Lost Light. It’s crazy. Purely crazy.

Good thing Red Alert recorded what he heard. Dude probably has a ton of experience not being believed, and knows the value of having evidence to back up your claims. He plays Rung the audio file, and after a bit of playback speed manipulation, they figure out just what that noise is.

Great, even the basement’s got major depression.

Back with Tailgate, it looks like Ultra Magnus has gotten a head-start on the study session, having knocked the little guy clean out with a precision strike verbal barrage of pure boredom. Tailgate nodded off during Magnus’ covering of section 19 of the Tyrest Accord, subsection 80, paragraph 5. This reminds Tailgate of when he met Skids and that giant yellow robot got all exploded.

Jesus, would you look at that shading. Ultra Magnus takes his literary references very, very seriously.

Back with the plague plot, Ratchet’s finally caught up with Pharma, who proceeds to tell him all about how he pulled off his big bad plan, in true villain fashion. Ratchet just sort of stands there and takes it as his eyeballs start melting out of his head.

Pharma is pretty much the only reason that Delphi hasn’t been wiped off the map by the Decepticon Justice Division, because he and the leader of that gang of murderous assholes have a deal- the DJD leave the outpost alone, in exchange for all the transformation cogs their greedy little hearts desire. The problem with this sort of deal is that in order to keep up his end of the bargain, Pharma had to start offing patients.

Of course, that sort of thing isn’t sustainable in the long-term, so Pharma had to orchestrate a way out, while still keeping himself out of prison for some of the most intense malpractice this side of Cybertron, so he called in a little help from some Decepticon nobodies and waved a little cash in their faces. He made a bomb, gave it to them, and they did what they were paid to do, spreading a illness that laid dormant in the liquidy stuff surrounding the t-cog until properly stirred by transformation. As Pharma tells his story, his face does the anime thing.

That’s how you know he’s SNAPPED!

Ratchet really just isn’t a fan of this new character arc Pharma’s got going on, but there isn’t a whole hell of a lot he can do about it now other than stand there and rust as his line art breaks down.

Though that actually works out in his favor, as the corrosion juices puddled under him during that whole spiel, enough so that they reached Pharma’s feet. Once Ratchet points that little detail out, Pharma panics, trying to jump out of the juice and getting clocked in the face.

Pharma said, whilst holding said vaccine in clear view of the man threatening him with a gun.

Ratchet doesn’t fire, because his hands are acting up- talk about poor timing- but Pharma doesn’t have that problem, onlining his built-in guns and shooting Ratchet, seemingly killing him.

Or not. It’s the return of the smiler, Ratchet’s vaguely creepy solid light avatar, best known for telling teenagers to get inside him and making mechanics uncomfortable.

The sight of this creepy little man throws Pharma off enough to allow Ratchet to tackle him, the vaccine flying out of his hands and rolling towards the edge of the incredibly tall portion of the outpost they’re currently on top of.

As the vaccine glowstick falls over the edge, Pharma, understandably, becomes furious, attacking Ratchet, though it doesn’t really work out for him too well. Guess that’s just what happens when your shut-in ass tries to tangle with a dude who’s been on the front lines for years now.

Ratchet, please make a fucking appointment with Rung, I’m begging you. This isn’t a healthy attitude to have towards yourself.

Because he got his arm stomped on real good earlier, Pharma’s on a timer for how much longer he’ll be able to hang onto the edge of the building, before he has to decide whether or not to risk transforming to save himself from impact with the ground, or just chancing being a neigh-indestructible space robot. Ratchet gives him a raw-ass one-liner, turning his back on the dude who has gun turrets built into his shoulder blades.

Luckily Drift hasn’t completely melted yet and managed to get up the ladder to the roof access just in time.

And thus the power of violence saves the day!

Ratchet’s avatar caught the vaccine as it was falling, because he’s just that good at multitasking, so it wasn’t lost at all, and they were able to save everyone from rusting to death. Even Pipes is okay, and you know how much Roberts likes killing that guy. Things are looking up!

Because Delphi’s been revealed to be pretty much the worst place ever, everyone is evacuated to the Lost Light, where First Aid will finally get the credit he’s due.

Suck it, Ambulon!

Ratchet figured out that First Aid sent the datalog that alerted him to the situation on Delphi, because he too is a giant nerd, and like recognizes like. The two lament the loss of the person Pharma had been, wishing they could have saved him.

Yeah, Ratchet, that sentiment goes a hell of a lot further when you don’t steal the man’s hands.

Like, I know he wasn’t using them anymore, but Jesus.

And thus the “Ratchet can’t do shit because his hands suck” arc draws to a close.

[horanimal-10]

Okay, I know we still have the final to go, but given what we've seen so far what's everyone thinking about the Olympic roster? Who you think deserves to make it, who you want to make it, who is a definite no at this point, anything. Now, I basically know jack shit about soccer (I was a field hockey player, oops) but I definitely have some thoughts about who I want/think deserves to make it. 

Let's start with the front line, shall we? 

Christen Press. I mean, this one is obvious. In what universe does CP *not* make the roster? I'll tell you which universe - none. She's clearly having a moment, she's healthy, everyone loves her. She's in, signed, sealed, delivered. Put it on my grave.

Pinoe. Okay, okay, "she's only good on set pieces" people say. Yeah, and those are pretty important. And aside from last night's somewhat sub-par performance in that department, I think she's looked pretty damn good this tournament. Fit af. Plus there is something to be said for the leadership and experience the older players have to offer. I think the rest of the team respects her and values her, and she's super positive and supportive of everyone, which I love. As long as she stays healthy, she's in.

Heath. Whoo. Honestly, I don't think we got a good look at her, what with her limited minutes. But she's the nutmeg queen, she's great on corners, she's spicy, and she does that nifty little backheel thing. And again - experience. Definitely takes on a mentor role with some of the younger players. She's had some injuries going back to the end of the club season, but as far as I know they've been minor. I still cringe every time she gets fouled, but I think she'll be okay as long as Vlatko continues to be smart about managing her minutes until she's 100%.

AMorgs??? Okay, this one's loaded. I give her major props for continuing her training during pregnancy, and I 100% believe she has the drive to be match fit by July. That said, pregnancy and childbirth are unpredictable. If she ends up needing a c section (which I wish on nobody, fingers crossed for a nice, uncomplicated delivery) I don't think she'll be ready due to the recovery period. That is the only reason I hesitate to say she's going for sure but I am hoping for the best and want only good things for her.

Baby Mal??? I don't know. This is a tough one. As much as I miss her, I will admit to thinking (please don't kill me for this) that she looked kind of lost and unfocused in the friendlies last fall. She has the skills to be there, no doubt, it just seemed to me she wasn't connecting well with her teammates, wasn't anticipating where they would be, etc. But I love her and hope she works shit out.

Carlos??? She isn't starter material at this point. This tournament, for her, seemed to be about getting Carlos to the Olympics, not the USWNT. Not at her best, by a long shot, and unlike Pinoe I don't think the younger players really see her as a leader or mentor. Not gonna lie, I was rooting for her because I admire her drive and dedication to keep going, but she fell short here.

Now, I'm skipping ahead to goalies, because honestly that's the easiest.

Uncle Naeher. Biggest no-brainer along with Press. (Honestly...can anyone give me a valid reason for her not to start? I doubt it.) I think she proved both in international and club play last season that she deserves the starting spot. It's hers to lose, but she won't.

Ashlyn. I hesitate to say I'm 100% sure here, but it's a pretty good bet. Campbell or Bledsoe could sneak in there, but at this point I'm leaning towards not. We really didn't get a good look at where she is right now, what with there not being a whole lot of action on that end of the field, but apparently Vlatko likes her so I'm good with that.

Ugh. Now we have midfield and backs. Honestly the toughest spots to cut anyone because they're basically all looking rock solid. 

Rose. Why tf would you cut Rose? That's right, you wouldn't. She's had a solid tournament. Would have liked to see more of her, but benching her against Costa Rica was prob a good call, given her yellow card from the previous game. (Confession - sometimes I feel like she falls in the "looks like she could kill you; would actually kill you" category. Anyone else get this vibe? Not necessarily a bad thing…)

Lindsey. Honestly, I feel like sometimes she doesn't get the credit she deserves. Does she ever have a *bad* game? Even when she's not at her best, she's still The Pretty Good Horan. Solid as a rock. Great one-touch passes. Has perfected the art of the header. Awesome volleys. Just got her first international hat trick, yay! Looks cool, calm, and collected, but is capable of being absolute chaos on main (exhibit A: That Game™ vs Utah). Leaves no square inch untouched as she roams from box to box. Minus last season's concussion (and maybe a minor hamstring injury last fall where she missed a friendly? Am I right?) she's been healthy, which is more than I can say for several others, so there's also that. And she's the love of my life, so I will accept zero criticism on this one.

JJ. She's fast, she's feisty (and sometimes ultra spicy), she and Dunn are adorable bffs, she's a leader. I have nothing bad to say about her. But I'm still kinda salty that Chicago beat Portland in the semis so that's as nice as I'm gonna get. (No hate though, really, she's fantastic.) She needs to stop giving me heart attacks with the couple-pics-that-could-be-pregnancy-announcements, though. One USWNT baby at a time, thanks.

Sammy. Well, she got herself two braces so far in qualifying (okay, that one goal was highly questionable, but the ref said goal so goal it is), so she's definitely made a strong case for herself. She's tall. She's able and willing to catch The Great Horan (you know, because she's the only one taller than The Great Horan). She panics over being the first one on the bus. The only thing I don't like about her? She plays for NCC. But honestly she's adorable, really fucking good, and I love her so I can overlook that.

KO. Okay, I'll admit I was nervous. Her first couple games were a little shaky, she had a few pretty big goof-ups (but I mean when she whiffed that one time she had literally just recovered from a savage attempt at breaking her ankles so I can't even blame her for that) but her ankles were away at war for like 6 months so what do you expect? Last night she was in fine form. She brings a great energy to the game, connects well with Tobito, has the Stanny connection with CP and some cute, newfound friendship thing going on with Horan, and is basically the ultimate hype girl (when she's not being the ultimate frat daddy). When you need a bitch, she's your woman. And she's hot. Like, HOT hot. As long as the ankles hold up, she's gotta be on that roster. I am rooting for those ankles. Hard.

Sonnett. Really did herself a solid with the minutes she had. No complaints from me. Almost scored a goal, and I'm not counting it out in the final. Not afraid to break ankles. She's scrappy, spicy, saucy, a sit-down comedian, a soft smiler, and a package deal with Horan. She deserves the world. The world (or at least the USWNT and its fans) deserves her. Please don't cut her, Vlatko. I beg of you. (I'm not saying if you cut her, I'll cut you, but like...I'm not NOT saying it, either...)

Krieger. What do I need to say except she showed everyone why Jello was an idiot not to play her. She's a beast. And I really, really, really need the wives to both make it bc I will cry if one does and the other doesn't.

Dunn. I mean, have you seen her? She's all over the field. She almost scored during her 100th cap. I've never seen her have a bad game. Voted best dancer on the team. The only problem? See Sammy above. F'n NCC. She deserves better, dammit.

Dahlkemper. Okay, don't sue me, but I really don't have any feelings toward her either way. A lot of people love her. I've never heard anyone say anything bad about her (except this one time I saw someone roast her on IG for following Honkle, but that's her business I guess) so that's good enough for me. Also she's pretty and posts thirsty comments on her teammates pics so basically I stan a supportive Abby.

Broon. Cool as a cucumber. The voice of reason. A literal angel. Captain Becky never lets us down.

Okay. Now for who I don't think will/should make it. 

AD. This makes me really, really sad. I love AD. But she's the only player on the roster who didn't get any minutes, so I think that says exactly where she stands in Vlatko's eyes. It's a shame, because she's amazing, but it's super hard to choose between her and Ash.

Lynn. Clearly Vlatko sees something in her, and tried really hard to make it happen. It didn't happen. I was kind of rooting for her, just because everyone else seemed to be against her, but she just didn't seem to connect with the rest of the team. She's fast, I'll give her that, but it's not enough. 

Jmac. Another one I was rooting for just because everyone else was against her. She has talent, and when she's on she's great, but she wasn't connecting with the others. 

Moe. Nothing against her, just no compelling reason to cut anyone else for her. Injury-prone, which obviously isn't good.

Allie. See Moe, minus the injuries. Bonus points for social media content, though.

Baby T. No clue where she stands with the injury. If she's 100% I have absolutely no reason why she shouldn't be on the team, but I don't know who I'd cut to keep her. If she isn't 100% I'd rather she take the time to heal completely. I know it was reported that she'd be ready to resume training around February, but a while back she herself said she didn't think she'd be 100% by the Olympics so who tf knows. She's SO young and could have 2-3 Olympics (and World Cups) ahead of her so no need to risk a career-ending injury by rushing it. But if she IS ready I'm down for her being an alternate (or, heaven forbid, making roster in the event that anyone else is injured). I like Tierna. I want a long, successful career and only good things for her.

Player I selfishly just want on the team because I like her.

Midge. She was a Thorn, so maybe I'm a little biased, but she's good, she's young (but not *young* young and inexperienced), she's versatile. I like her. A lot. 

Okay, that's all I got. Let me know what y'all think.

[80s-roger]

invisible man - Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

summary: Roger is your neighbour and he’s been stalking you since the day you moved in opposite him. You caught him tonight and it’s going to be hella hot.

warnings: make out, protected sex, squirt

words:  2.265

masterlist

"Won't you come with us to the new pub downtown?" Brian asked when the recording session was done for today.

"No, I am tired..." Roger declined politely. Too rare for him.

"Tired or..." Freddie teased as he was wearing his leather jacket.

"You know Roger, it's totally fine if there's a girl!" John smiler.

"Kind of, we'll see." Roger nodded and left the studio when the rest members went to the new pub.

Roger has been your stalker since the day you moved in the neighbourhood he lives. You've noticed none of what he's doing. You actually know a rock star lives nearby your home but never made the effort to get to know him. He stays at his window all night watching you either sleep or undress which is his favourite one. All thanks to the telescope Brian got him for his 34th birthday. Tonight you caught him watching you over his telescope.

You just got home after a long ass work shift. Your male boss disrespects you and that shit drives your crazy. You overwork but you're underpaid just because you're a woman. You took off your working clothes, now you were watching yourself from the mirror before heading to the shower until a reflection from the mirror landing to the wall, distracting you. You felt something was wrong. As you turn your head to the window you notice a man watching you. And that man is the rock star. You knew that was his house. You felt embarrassed not knowing how many times he has done it before. You rapidly cover the window with the purple curtains and cover yourself with a dress you had behind the door so you could kick his ass by asking explanations. Roger was confused. He didn't know he caused the reflection neither you were coming to his place.

You aggressively knock his door. The second he opens the door, you take a moment to realise Roger Taylor from Queen was eventually the man who lives opposite you, yet he's the guy who was watching you. You both take a minute to process the situation.

"Oh you must be the new neighbour..." He awkwardly says when his hand was placed in his chest area under his blue suit.

"And you must be the neighbour who watches me with his telescope!" You were angry but also tired of your today's shift.

"N-no! I'm afraid you're mistaken!" He tried to save it but you didn't believe a word.

"Cut the bullshit, I saw you! Tell me how many times have you been doing it?" You asked and felt your blood boiling inside you.

"Just once!" He answered but you looked him in disbelief. "Or twice." his voice lowered. You crossed your arms, not believing a word. "Fine, since the day you moved into the neighbourhood." He finally admitted and your gaze was calmer than before. You were flattered a man like him watching you but it can be creepy too, right? But hey, you missed receiving some flirting. You were focused on your work all this time, you forgot about meeting new guys or even have some fun.

"At least you're honest now." You giggled. "Can I come in?" You politely asked.

"Y-yeah of course." He made way for you to get into his huge house. Makes sense for a rockstar. As you walked through his living room he looked kinda nervous. "Would you like a drink? I think it's finally time to know each other regardless of the circumstances." He awkwardly laughed but you laughed with his attitude. He was literally watching you all this time and now he acts like a child. You couldn't deny how handsome he was. His fluffy blond hair, his bright blue ocean eyes, his attitude. Dear God, you haven't felt complete as a woman for a long time. As you sat on his couch you were staring at the entire room like it was some kind of art. You could feel the heat coming from the radiators the minute you felt calmer, probably Roger turned them on to make you feel better in no time. Or he's trying to persuade you.

"Y/n, here's your drink." He offered the glass as he sat down next to you.

"Um, how do you know my name?" You curiously asked.

"I've been stalking you since the day you moved in. You think a name would be an obstacle to me?" he laughed as he took a sip from his whiskey. "I guess you know my name by now." He seriously said like he's a God you would worship.

"Yeah, of course, I do..." you nodded. "But when it comes to my name I don't know if I should creep out or be flattered." You laughed and followed his action.

"Be flattered because you're way too beautiful to be devastated. You've been a mess for a long time. Is there something wrong?" He asked looking worried but you felt shocked, knowing he's seen you this way. You should keep these curtains closed anyways. "You don't have to answer you know..." He added, making you feel comfortable.

"I'm actually really stressed." You started. "My boss keeps insulting me and I'm not even paid like my male colleagues are. This is unfair." You let out a breath, now your eyes getting blurry from the tears ready to fall. "It's been happening for two years, I can't stand inequality. I've had enough of being treated like I don't worth my position in that damn bank." You rested your head at the couch's back and cleared your eyes. You could feel Roger looking at you but he was unable to say a word.

"It's work that stresses you too much, huh?" He asked and put his glass on the table.

"I actually love my job... My boss treats me like shit." You eventually cried, thinking the reason he treats you this way.

"Why don't you talk to someone who's on a higher position than he's?" He asked. "Oh... y/n please don't cry..." His gentle fingertips took away your tears from your cheeks, feeling the desire among you. That was undoubtfully mutual.

"He's been assaulting me because I refused going out with him. Many were the times he insulted me in front of my colleagues saying nasty stuff." Υοu looked him in his eyes. You knew you liked Queen's drummer since the beginning but now it's different. You're opening your heart to him.

"Oh... Come here..." He pulled you closer. He pulled you in his arms, feeling what you missed the most. A man taking care of you. Let's be honest, you've been single for a lot of time and a hug is enough to knock you off of your feet. His eyes locked with yours. You've never felt this way before. His lips met yours and it was all so sudden you couldn't process the situation. His kiss was warm and everything you needed but it was over your limits.

"I'm sorry." You rapidly said, trying to get out of his warm hug. "I shouldn't have indulged myself this way." you pulled away and you could now see his eyes getting darker. You refused his affection and now you feel guilty too. Guilt took over and you stood up, attempting to leave his house. You never wanted to cry like a baby towards a man you just met. "I have to go..." you tried running but he stopped you. His hand grabbed yours and you looked him back to his eyes.

"Y/n please stay! Please... This is the first time I get to know you the way I want to. I know you want it too. Please." He was begging you for sex. He was begging for it for months but he couldn't meet you before. Now it's time to get to know him. You surely wanted to feel like a woman again. You haven't been laid for months and you want it now. And he wants it too.

"Do you really think I'm this type of woman?" you asked feeling easy.

"No definitely not. It's just- fuck. I want you, I desire you. Do I make any sense? You've been in my mind since the day you moved in opposite me, I'm not joking." His hands wrapped yours and his eyes wouldn't stop looking inside yours.

"I think you make sense..." you answered. You wanted to be laid, you needed it.

"I mean... Can I?" He asked for your permission to go on. You didn't talk. You were just looking at him.

"I haven't had it for a long of time so don't judge, okay?" You insecurely said.

"Same y/n." He came closer to you and his hands wrapped your waist, pulling you even closer to him and his bulge.

His lips met yours again, feeling the warm sense at your mouth and your body. Now you keep away your issues and the rules you've made to yourself. No one night stands. You didn't care now, it was all about feeling the pleasure and the desire. "Shall we go to my bedroom?" He asked, interrupting the steamy kiss. You nodded without saying a word. That kiss awakened your sexual desires.

You climbed on him, with your legs around his waist and your lips at his neck, giving him sweet and wet kisses. He could do that at the moment but he was too focused on the stairs.

His bedroom was huge and there was the telescope facing your bedroom's window. He gently threw you on his king-sized bed and it was hella soft and comfortable. He immediately removed his suit, staying chest-naked in front of you and now you had to do it too with your easy-to-be-taken-off dress in which you were braless. You spread your legs so now he could have access to your bodies colliding.

"You're so beautiful y/n..." He whispered to your ear, sending you shivers. You haven't heard that for such a long time. You knew by then how wet you are.

"Can't say the opposite." You slightly laughed to his ear and now his hands were below the dress, around your hips, squeezing them gently and carefully. "Oh, please undress me..." you laid your head back anticipating the second you would be naked.

"You're so ready for me..." He answered and with one fast move, he legitimately removed your dress, now only on your wet panties. "Not even a bra? So naughty from you." He bit his lip and placed his head at your chest, giving you kisses that would tickle you, but it didn't matter as long as sex was about to happen.

"Ah fuck..." You moaned when his hand went under your panties, rubbing your clit and now you were so horny, you would die from anticipation.

"Fuck, you're already wet. That was fast..." He smirked without interrupting your lips contact.

He took off his jeans, now his underwear was the remaining fabric that covered his boner. At the sight of himself jerking off and being prepared you took off your panties, rubbing with round circles your pussy, waiting for him to fuck you. "You better hurry, I'm so needy for it." You said and laid yourself at the back, now your head's rested on his pillows.

"So am I love..." He climbed on top of you, wore his condom and ready to thrust inside you. "Just tell me. How long? You better remember this night." He said with confidence.

"Must be half a year, I don't remember." You felt sad thinking about how undesirable you could be at that time.

"Oh love, you better enjoy it now. Do you have a safe word?" He asked as he caressed your cheek.

"It's just stop." You said as you don't have any safe words. Stop means stop, right?

"I like that." He bit his lip and gave you a deep kiss before entering your vagina.

His dick was inside you, filling you up entirely. It felt really good. It was that thing you missed. His soft moanings against your ears and his hips moving harmonically against you was everything you wanted. His eyes wouldn't stop tracking your emotions through your eyes.

"You're so good around me. Fuck..." He moaned.

"It feels so nice Rog..." You answered as the feeling of coming was near.

"You should have been doing it already..." You said with heavy breaths.

"You have no idea how long I waited for this." He smoothly said when he thrust a bit harder inside you and then you let out a softly louder moan. "Want it faster?" He asked before going that tempo.

He raised his eyebrow as you told him that. Confidence took over and now it's hell. It was faster and definitely better, both of you on the edge of coming. "Rog, I-i'm gonna c-"

"Hold it together baby, just a few seconds..." He interrupted you but now you have to hold it a little more.

"Rog seriously I can't!" You were feeling your legs shaking and now he felt it too as waves of pleasure, hit him like a truck. He was rubbing your clit, now it gets crazier. It's coming.

"Ah holy shit." He loudly moaned when he took himself off you and so did you. And right there, water-like liquids popped out of your pussy and Roger looked at you shocked. "Holy hell, that was hot." He said at the sight of you squirting.

"Yeah I usually do that." you laughed and now he went to his bathroom cleaning himself from the mess.

"We should have sex more often then. We should even start going out. Ain't leaving you now when our sex life is gonna be lit." You heard him laughing and you couldn't help but agree.

[adraveins]

🔥🍂🌼💕 for Kit and Hakona?

Thanks! Going under a read more for length:

🔥 If your OC known for having temper tantrums? If not, what gets them really angry? What makes their blood BOIL? Is there anyway to calm them down or are they unstoppable? What are they like when they’re angry? Do they take it out on their loved ones?

Kit doesn’t get angry a lot. She might have a kneejerk defensive or pissed off reaction, but she’s worked hard to corral that and make sure it passes. When she does get really angry, it’s usually from a place of feeling powerless, which she hates, and it might be a little hard to snap her out of it then. She gets quiet and overly relaxed at first, and is an angry smiler, and then whatever she does next depends on the situation, though she’ll often fall back on her most vicious powers out of habit. But she makes sure not to take it out on loved ones. The most she’ll do is snap a bit.

Hakona definitely has a temper, which is something she deliberately stoked in her youth to heighten her fire godlike traits and later to build up that paladin zeal. She doesn’t react well to failure or despair or anything to do with Rymrgand. It isn’t easy to calm her down, but she’s not too bad at calming herself down once she channels it into a physical outlet. She is very intimidating when angry, on account of being a fire godlike Bleak Walker who dual wields axes. But while she has sometimes said things she regrets or walked out when angry, she tries not to direct her temper at loved ones.

🍂 What are their opinions on the different seasons? Which one do they hate and which one do they love and why?

Kit has been to a lot of places and not all of their seasons are the same, but overall, she loves autumn the most. Least amount of suffering when you’re overly sensitive to weather and climate, and for that same reason, she hates spring. Everything blooming and frequent rain? No thank you.

Hakona hates winter and loves summer because she’s from the White that Wends and hated it there. Heat doesn’t bother her at all, and she likes to see things at their most vibrant. Her opinion of the Dyrwood as a whole is not very high, but she loves how green it gets in the summer, and while she is not a fan of the ocean, she does appreciate the Deadfire’s climate.

💕 How is your OC like with physical affection? What are their boundaries? Do they enjoy being touched or is that a no-go? Is there any reason behind this?

Kit is fine with it to a point. She’s a little touch-starved after a long time of drifting and holding people at arm’s length, and so she appreciates her overly affectionate friends very much. But things like (too much) PDA between her and a partner, that’s a big no, as she has some hangups about privacy.

Hakona is the opposite, in that she’s not big on casual physical affection but is oddly fine with PDA. She’ll let her mother and sister hug her, and that’s about it, but then she’s perfectly fine with Xoti being overly clingy in public. 😂 It comes from living a fairly dangerous lifestyle, as she just isn’t relaxed enough in most situations, but a partner implies a level of trust that supersedes that caution.

🌼Write a short drabble from your OCs POV meeting their LI. (Or if they don’t have a love interest, their best friend. If you don’t want to do a drabble, describe their first meeting instead!)

 Kit and Edér, a.k.a. who’s this fucking weirdo?:

“Long as you’re not the one picking the sights.”

This one wasn’t telling her everything, but neither was he hiding things like Aloth was. The elf carried his secrets with a nervous energy that bubbled just under the surface. Edér carried his like they were too heavy to lift into the light.

His thoughts were there for the looking, like all thoughts were, but Kit didn’t. It was intent that mattered, not secrets, and if guile resonated within him, she would have known. Just like she knew that Aloth was on edge but didn’t mean any harm. Just like she knew that this town was on edge, and vicious in its misery, and that Edér was right about the desperate need for another scapegoat.

“I’m pretty sure you picked this place first,” Kit said. She was certain that she’d seen him here yesterday too. And he had the nerve to call her strange.

“Heh,” Edér said, with another tilt of his head, conciliatory this time. “Fair point.” His eyes flicked to Aloth. “Guess that’ll be your job, then.”

“I’ll do my best,” Aloth said, with an air that suggested he didn’t expect to find any sights worth seeing.

“I’ve got a few things to do first,” Kit said, “so if you need to grab anything…” She paused, and her gaze made it halfway to the tree and its grisly display before she caught herself. “… We can stop along the way.”

Edér noticed. It wasn’t in his face, but in a sudden warmth of his thoughts, concentrated on her. “Not much,” he said. “Won’t take but a moment.” He pointed in the general direction to go, then gestured for Kit to take the lead. “If you’re headed that way.”

“I am,” Kit said, putting the tree behind her as Edér and Aloth fell into step on either side. She wasn’t, but this town and this country felt a little less hollow with warmth at her back.

—–

Hakona and Xoti, a.k.a. more weirdos, and tell me more about death:

“I got an eye for stages,” Xoti said. “Life and death and in between. Like progressing forward… or sometimes backwards.” Her casual shrug was not as casual as she wanted it to be, Hakona observed, belied by the spark in her eyes. “It’s all just change happening in different states.”

“Change,” Hakona echoed. She hadn’t meant to let her attention get caught like so, but something in the words was… different. Even Berathians didn’t talk like this priest did. “I like that better than an end.”

The spark in Xoti’s eyes flared into something that seemed regrettably excitable. “You do?” she asked, edging a little closer. “Most folks don’t tend to see my way of things.”

It appeared that Xoti’s attention was caught too, riveted on Hakona now, and Hakona shifted her feet. “Your views are… interesting,” she said, pointedly ignoring the little smirk on Edér’s face. “They may be of use, if this gets as ugly as I think it will.”

“You should know that gruesome doesn’t bother me,” Xoti added, her eyes on the Walker insignia affixed to Hakona’s armor. “I reckon you see a lot of that, if you don’t mind me being forward.”

It wasn’t often that others weren’t intimidated by the symbol, and again, Hakona felt an involuntary tug of curiosity. She hesitated, though there wasn’t much left to consider when a lack of a proper healer was a dangerous thing, and her own healing abilities would be no substitute in dire circumstances. “Then come along.”

Xoti beamed happily at her. “I know an offer as rare as hen’s teeth when I hear it,” she said. “Yeah, I’m taking it.”

Hakona frowned. “Hen’s teeth?”

Xoti chuckled like there was some joke involved, then trailed away as Hakona continued to frown. “It’s ‘cos they don’t have any, you see.”

“You say many strange things,” Hakona observed.

A flush lit up Xoti’s cheeks, heralding a sudden suspicion with which she regarded Hakona.

“She’s joking,” Edér said helpfully.

“Oh!” Xoti said, and now her flustered glance, full of interest, bounced between both of them as a grin replaced the flush. It was Hakona’s turn to send the barest smirk in Edér’s direction, and his turn to ignore it. “Then I think we just might get along fine.”

And oddly enough, despite how eagerly Xoti was determined to edge into her personal space, Hakona agreed.

[ohblackdiamond]

little t&a (paul/gene, nc-17) (part 10 of 29)

part 1   part 2   part 3   part 4   part 5   part 6   part 7   part 8   part 9   part 10   part 11   part 12   part 13   part 14   part 15   part 16   part 17   part 18   part 19   part 20   part 21  part 22   part 23   part 24    part 25   part 26   part 27   part 28   part 29

Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort levels, and Gene’s libido, this crisis must be resolved. Sexswap fic. In this chapter: More shopping, more problems, and Ace and Peter enact their plan.

           The call to Steve Rubell (or rather, his secretary—Steve, apparently, didn't get up any earlier than two in the afternoon) wasn't the only one Gene made that morning. At Paul's urging, Gene called to have clothes sent over from his house, and a handful of standard accessories. He felt a little bare wearing only his skull ring. Paul kept attempting to advise him as he tried to piece together an image- and Studio 54-suitable outfit from memory of what was in his closets. In the end he just settled on an outfit comprised almost entirely out of black leather. A vague step up from his CBGB outfit, at least.

           "You think I should go to another boutique?" Paul asked as soon as he'd hung up. He'd changed into jeans and a low-cut, frilly purple blouse, more of yesterday's purchases. He kept fiddling with the floppy bow in the front, untying and retying it as he spoke, moving it to the side, then the middle. Sitting beside him on the edge of the bed, he looked like a nervous kid, tapping one bare foot against the floor.

           "Not unless you want to."

           "I dunno. Nothing I have is going to pass muster."

           "Didn't you buy a dress?"

           Paul grimaced.

           "It wasn't anything special. Do you know how many people they don't let in to Studio 54, just because of the outfit?"

           "Paul, you know we'll get in."

           "Yeah, we'll get in, but the press is out there every night. There's gonna be pictures, Gene."

           Gene hesitated. Except for when they'd found Carol's old apartment, Paul's mood seemed to improve, at least a little, whenever they'd ventured out. He hadn't seemed to mind getting clothes that much—sure, he'd taken forever about it, but that wasn't abnormal—and he hadn't picked out sackcloth and ashes for himself, either. Minus the bow, the blouse was something Paul probably would've worn in his regular body, even, except Gene would've been greeted with a hell of a lot of chest hair instead of cleavage.

           "I think what you've got on is probably fine."

           "You haven't been over there. It's picky as hell."

           "We're in KISS, we'll get in."

           "I don't want to just get in! I—" Paul shook his head. "God, you don't understand."

           "What's there to understand?"

           "There's getting in and then there's looking good, Gene. Looking like you belong."

           Gene tilted his head.

           "Do you really want to belong at Studio 54?" Gene had heard, from admittedly irreputable sources, that Rubell would hand out coke at the VIP entrance like it was balloons at the carnival. The basement was supposed to hold nothing but orgies. Yeah, Paul liked to dance, and he liked to rub elbows with people outside of KISS' questionable echelon, but he wasn't a drug addict, and he wasn't a heavy sex fiend. Two things that were practically prerequisites for that place.

           "I wanna belong somewhere," Paul said abruptly, and then shook his head, as though he hadn't really realized he was speaking out loud. "I—what I mean is, I don't wanna come off like I'm some chick you yanked off the front row 'cause she showed you her tits."

           "You don't come that cheap, Paul."

           "Oh, shut up. You get it, right? You get it."

           Gene kind of got it. The closest he could come was envisioning going onstage without the makeup. The one protective shield between fantasy and reality. A funhouse mirror it'd be suicide to step away from. It wasn't that they were shittier musicians without a bunch of paint and leather on, any more than Clark Kent stopped being faster than a speeding bullet once he put on his glasses—but it ruined the magic. Flattened the ego.

           He'd known Paul long enough to realize Paul's ego had been flattened since he'd started grammar school, if not before. Album sales and Billboard climbing never seemed to boost it for long. Being stuck in the wrong body for a week had to have killed whatever was left.

"If you wanna get another outfit, then we'll get you another outfit."

           "Yeah?"

           "Yeah."

--

           Three hours later, Paul had another outfit. Gene had half-hoped Paul would let him into the dressing room—why the hell he'd hoped that when Paul kept changing clothes in the bathroom even at home, he didn't know, but he was still disappointed. Paul had stopped at a slightly more upscale place than yesterday, to Gene's distress, and sorted through the dresses with an almost disturbing intenseness. In the end, he'd only picked out a flowy, light blue one that probably hung to about mid-calf (Paul hadn't let him see it on), with draped short sleeves, another bra, and another pair of heels. He hadn't gotten any accessories to go along with it.

           But what surprised Gene was that he didn't immediately head for the checkout counter. Instead, he kept lingering in the lingerie and nightwear section. Gene would have tried not to comment, except he'd had nothing to do but follow Paul around the boutique like the beleaguered boyfriend he wasn't.

           "Do you want a nightie?" He picked a gauzy, lacey pink number off the rack. Paul's face contorted.

           "That's a teddy."

           "A what?"

           "A teddy. It snaps up at the crotch. See?" Paul pointed. Gene was more distracted by the garters dangling off the sides, flicking at them.

           "I thought they were all nighties."

           Paul shook his head. He took a short lavender babydoll-style nightgown off the rack, running a hand down the silky material, mouth pursed like he was actually considering it.

           "Do you like this stuff?"

           "Me?" Gene looked up, evasively, from where he'd been tugging at the garters. Too loaded a question for a completely honest response. "I like what's underneath it."

           Paul bit his lip and hung the lingerie back up.

           "You wanna get it?" Not that Gene was against it, but Paul had seemed like he was dead-set on wearing t-shirts and boxers to bed for the entire duration of the curse, or at least as long as Gene shared a bed with him. Last night couldn't have made that much of an impression on him. "Go ahead, if you want."

           "I owe you over a hundred bucks as it is."

           "Pay me back with a peepshow."

           "Oh, screw you." But he picked the nightgown up again anyway. "It's just insurance."

           "Insurance for what?"

           "For you sticking around in case we don't find Carol tonight."

           "You don't need insurance for that. I'm not going anywhere." Gene reached over, tugging at a lock of Paul's hair on impulse. "Not that I'm talking you out of it."

           Paul snorted and pushed his hand away, but he was smiling. Just a little. It shouldn't have been distracting—it shouldn't have been more distracting than the thought of Paul as he was right now, in nothing but a short, spaghetti-strap nightgown—but in an odd way, it was. Paul wasn't much of a crier, and he wasn't much of a smiler, not even for magazines and interviews. But when he did, it gave a warm, almost sweet cast to his features. Gene tried to dismiss the thought; he knew he'd been with prettier women, easier, prettier women, but the fact remained. Paul's smile had edged into a less innocent territory in the half-second Gene had spent musing, anyway.

           "I knew there had to be some way to keep you from looking at the price tags," he said, handing Gene his whole stack of purchases.

--        

           Last night, when Ace had said he had a plan, he had cocaine and booze bubbling around in his strangely-resilient system. When Peter had believed him, he'd been drunk or close to it.

           Now, parked in front of Paul's place after over an hour of driving, Peter had to admit Ace's plan would've been great for getting answers—if anyone had actually been there. Unfortunately, that didn't appear to be the case once they got in the driveway.

           "His car's gone. I don't think anyone's over." Despite himself, Peter got out of the car. Ace reached for the drink holder, like he'd forgotten he hadn't brought a beer for the road, before he cut off the engine and followed him out. They stepped up to Paul's front porch together, ringing the doorbell and knocking on the door.

           The first time Peter had headed over there, the girl had been really quick to open up. Gene, too.  Peter let out a frustrated breath, waiting a few more seconds before knocking harder. Nothing. He could see through the glass on the door that a couple of the lights were on in the house, but that didn't mean much. Paul would leave a light on all day, even in his hotel room.

           No, nobody was here. The cardboard box resting just by the door proved it. Paul's mail, evidently. Peter picked it up, frowning at the lack of address or postage. Hopefully none of the neighbors had found out who he was and dropped off weird fan crap. He set the box down before turning to Ace.

           "Why the hell did I let you talk me into this? It's not getting us anywhere!"

           Ace just shrugged.

           "He's gotta come home sometime."

           "Sometime could be six hours from now! At least I get paid for waiting around on tour!"

           "Petey…"

           Ace's idle nonchalance was something Peter appreciated most of the time, as stark a contrast as it was to Paul and Gene's control freak tendencies. Ace seemed like he coasted through life, with nothing but alcohol, his Les Paul, and weird stories about aliens propelling him. Peter had let himself get dragged into Ace's weird, wild hairs sometimes, but usually they were at least exciting. Standing in front of Paul's house and hoping he'd show back up was about as thrilling as three KISS board meetings in a row.

           "You know what the smart thing would've been, Ace?"

           "Calling Paul today? I tried."

           "No."

           "Calling Bill?"

           "No."

           "Calling Hilsen?"

           "Fuck, no. Calling the cops."

           Ace blinked, resting an elbow and a hand against the door as he leaned against it.

           "The cops? That's pretty fucking extreme."

           "For one of those—I don't know. They come to the house and check on you if your husband's a wife-beater."

           Ace tilted his head.

           "Social workers? You wanna get a social worker for Paul?"

           "No! No, that's not it!"

           "I bet they'd find joints in there. No good. It'd be like what's happening to Keith Richards. One big fucking disaster." Ace ran a hand through his hair. Looking at him, Peter wasn't sure if he'd showered after last night. Not that Ace was fantastic about hygiene, but… shit, come to think of it, he'd even missed a few spots shaving. He and Ace both would try and ease into pieces of the tour routine before it swallowed them up. All the annoying shit, like shaving everything. Like getting haircuts (the hair dye was reserved for a couple days before) and wandering around in heels again for awhile, like some bizarre version of a wrestler's training regimen. But Ace looked a bit unkempt. Had Gene's behavior affected Ace that badly? Strange.

           "Doubt it. Paul doesn't toke up by himself." Peter groaned. "Y'know what? Forget it. Forget it. If no one shows up in another ten minutes, we're just going home."

           "You gotta be patient."

           "I've been patient! I've been over twice! You're the one that hasn't done anything until now! You said you had a plan—"

           "You ain't gonna like the rest of the plan."

           "C'mon, there is no rest of the plan! We're staking out his house and wasting our time, that's all this is!"

           Ace shifted from where he was leaning against the door, standing up fully, and dug a hand in his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. Peter watched, expecting him to—what, did he have a key to Paul's?—show him something important, but instead all he did was pull out a credit card and hold it out in front of Peter.

           "What's this for?"

           "Don't leave home without it. Right, Pete?" Ace laughed a little, then leaned over, wedging the card between the space between the door and the lock. Peter stared.

           "Come the fuck on, that's breaking and entering! We can't pull this shit!"

           Ace slid the card back out, frowning, and reangled it. He kept talking, as affably as ever, as he pushed it back in, bending the thin plastic as he worked it into the gap.

           "We've gotta find out what's going on somehow, right? A P.I. would do the same thing."

           "Yeah, but you're not a fucking P.I.!"

           "Nope." He seemed like he was making headway. The door was actually starting to yield a bit. Christ. "But if you're right about Gene, he's screwed up everything for everybody."

           "You and your ifs. I know I'm right about him! Why do you keep defending—"

           "'Cause it's weird, Peter! Gene wouldn't hurt him like that. There's something we're missing!"

           Peter opened his mouth to answer, stopped only by the sound of a car pulling up to the driveway. A car he recognized as Paul's. The driver cut off the engine, and as soon as she got out, he recognized her, too—the girl from before. Paul's girl, the one Gene had stolen—and then Gene got out of the passenger's side. Peter jerked at Ace's sleeve, and Ace turned around, not bothering to pull the card out from between the door and the slat, expression as bland and mild as ever at the sight, as the girl scrambled out to the front porch like a bat straight out of hell, shouting something very, very strange.

           "You bastards! You're breaking into my fucking house!"