#The plot thickens (?)

[ooctlt]

Pal - does Harrow pay her rent in 10's and 20's? has she ever paid with a $100 bill?

harrows job: 1 | 2 | 3 |

[in-class-daydreams]

Imagine you're still furious with ex-husband Gojo over his behavior regarding the flowers from your "secret admirer."

You put on a happy face for the Sister School Exchange Event, however. For the sake of sportsmanship (and safety), your son, Sen, is heavily restricted. He's a great asset to his team all the same and the Tokyo team have two of their strongest students ready to intercept him.

"The brat's showing off too much. His form's sloppy," Sukuna says from the seat beside you.

"He's been telling me how the two of you have been doing some brutal conditioning lately," you comment with your eyes fixed on the screen.

Sukuna scoffs. "Not brutal enough, apparently."

And it's that attitude that secured Sukuna's place as your son's favorite teacher a long time ago.

~

Imagine that in-between the major conflicts of the event, you and ex-husband Gojo get to have a longer conversation without your son jumping to your rescue.

For once, Satoru isn't trying to flirt with you. He's watching the image of his son running through the woods battling curses without breaking a sweat. They may have vicious, gut-wrenching fights at times, but one could not deny how in awe Satoru was of his son.

"He's so talented," he murmurs more to himself than you. He leans back in his seat, gaze hidden by his blindfold. "You did a great job," he tells you softly.

You put your hand over his - the first tender contact you've initiated with him in perhaps years.

"So did you," you reply.

"Please. The kid hates me."

"He doesn't see it now, but I know that you did what you thought was best for him." You give his hand a little squeeze. Romance or not, divorce or not, you and Satoru have always understood each other unlike anyone else. You knew he had to choose between being in Sen's life and keeping him safe.

By the time team battles ended, you'd forgotten what you were even mad at him for.

~

Imagine you and ex-husband Gojo proceed with the Sister School Exchange event on good terms.

Which is why you feel so guilty when while Satoru is occupied with catching up with Yuji during the transition between events, your gaze falls on the man you've been avoiding eye-contact with all day.

You see him tapping away on his phone. When he looks up, he smirks and hits send on whatever message he was typing. Heat creeps up your face and you quickly avert your eyes.

A moment later, your phone vibrates. It feels like it's burning a hole in your pocket, but you force yourself to wait a minute so it's not obvious.

After what feels like ages (but is really only about a minute), you allow yourself to check your messages.

[11:27 am] Hope you liked the flowers, beautiful. Rika helped me pick them out <3

~

Edit: Reader and Gojo are approaching their 40’s in this, Sen is 18, Yuta is approaching 30. Just to make that clear.

Click [here] for more of Sen being mean to his dad | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[emacrow]

The meeting of Gods and Goddesses around a large stone table watching, with Shazam easedropping.

Warning may include death of a child, please be advise.

"How could this have possible had occurred?!?!"

"I thought Hades made sure the bones of Kronos could never had been recovered?!?"

"..."

"Hades..?" Persephone said softly, holding Hades's tightly gripped fist on the table. Hades remained quiet, his face remained unchanged from the grumpy ticked off look that he held while among the other Gods and Goddess who glare or glance at him.

"It's not my fault that Ceberus was throwing up due to indigestion, Blame Cupid over there for sending me white chocolates skulls instead of Bitter chocolate when he knew I hate despised them." Hades stated placing his other hand onto Persephone's hand, caressing it softly.

Poseiden can admit it was a valid accused, but it was beginning to get a bit unnerving to see Zeus so quiet yet Angry with how intense he was glaring at the clear vision from the Shazam's host seeing Kronos and the godling babe while the other gods accused one another.

He look at the babe then back at angered Zeus, then glance back before a sudden realization hit him faster then a tsunami..

"You're not the youngest anymore.. now aren't you?" Poseiden blurted out loud causing every one at the table to Freeze, Zeus stiffen as the very clouds surrounding underneath their table rumbled with Lightening..

"How Dare You!?!"

Zeus growled menacingly summoning his prized lightening bolt in his hand before he can continue speaking, his temper nearly boiling.

"Well, he does have a point.. that babe reminded me vaguely of the corpse that was founded in Kronos's stomach.. but I thought it was because the babe was already dead as the soul was already gone due to how crowded it was in there." Hades commented, looking as though he was remembering a distant past..

"It should had stay dead where I had found it!" Zeus snapped at Hades before his eyes widen, covering his mouth quickly as the a kept secret had slipped out.

The Gods and Goddesses were stunned at the sudden secret revealed. If Zeus was not the youngest, then does that mean the godling babe shown before them was the one supposed to rules them?

"What happened on that day, Zeus?" Hera said softly as to tried to calm Zeus's nerves.

Zeus gritted his teeth before he close his eyes, ans sighed, seeing how everyone will only pursue the truth more later.

"It was after I pulled you all out of Father's stomach, only then I saw that there was a extra one sleeping unborn seemingly looking stillborn with a cord wrapped around, nested underneath Father's heart, I was about to grabbed it and pull it out as well, but then..it shifted as it was some kind of modern glitch, a girl one second, a boy a second after, black hair flash to white hair and back, before I saw it's eyes. It's eyes look inhumane Green and more souless then the titans. I realized that it was the youngest and not I... I was already enraged at the point of the prophecy wasn't about me before I even knew what I had done. I had snapped it's neck just as it was about to take it first breath and pulled it out of him, Father knew what I had done the moment the babe fell out lifeless and that was when he becomes truly descented into madness." Zeus said with his hands tighten into fists as he look like he was reliving a memory.

Part 4 << >> Part 6

[dcxdpdabbles]

Do you mind updating Alfred's boy? I just fell in love with your work and can't stop thinking about it lololol especially with Wes and Danny crushing on Jason as everyone else is crushing on Danny

It's the most complicated love shape I've seen since Miraculous and I can't get enough 💖

Bruce is working on some late-night emails.

He chose not to go out as Batman tonight just because his kids had a lot of pent-up energy they needed to release on some unsuspecting crook, and he got behind in his civilian persona.

Bruce also wanted to keep an eye on Wes and Danny. The day after the Opera, Danny took it upon himself to take Wes out into the city again, showing him not only Batburger but also the city's sights and arcade.

Alfred booked them both an entire afternoon in Gotham's most luxurious spa as a gift for Danny's hard work. When Danny and Wes came back, both seemed to be glowing and frankly, Bruce wouldn't be surprised if they had turned heads on their way home.

Danny made his children break their necks when he walked by the family room with a laughing Wes. After spotting Danny in a very uncharacteristic move, Damian even walked into the living room wall.

Jason had laughed so hard he choked on his spit. It took every year of training for Bruce to catch Damian mid-jump to save Jason from his younger brother's worth.

It was only the knowledge that Wes was a civilian staying in the manor and that if he saw them in a fight, their covers would be blown, stopping Damian from attacking Jason further.

Bruce was getting tired of this romance novel setting he found himself in. His children haven't stressed him out this much in years. Okay, that's a lie.

They always stressed him out, but usually, it was due to them making a stance against crime. Not a random young man who was dating (secretly) the object of their affection.

Wesley Weston was a delightful young man despite everything. Bruce would almost approve of him if it weren't for the fact that he seemed aware of the Wayne children's hostility and edged it on by being extra cuddly with Danny.

He was delighted for Danny to have a friend who had been making him this happy, but all good things must end. This would be Wes's last night in Wayne Manor.

Tomorrow, Wes will board a plane back through Clockwork's unique gate and be gone from their lives until he can visit again. That could take a while, as Alfred had informed him that Danny's parents were becoming a nuisance.

That could mean any number of things, but the most obvious was that Danny's location needed to stay hidden. No one could contact him from his home.

Bruce sighs, wondering how the boy will handle the news. Alfred chose to wait until Wes was out of the manor so his charge would not break down in front of his friend. It would mean the world to Danny, who closely held his emotions to his chest.

A knock interrupts his thoughts.

"Come in," Bruce calls, wondering who it could be. He is surprised to see a shy redhead pop his head in. "Wes, what are you doing up this late?"

"Sorry to bother you, Mr. Wayne. I couldn't sleep," Wes says, scruffing his feet on the carpet. He takes a moment to gather his strength, then straightens out his back. Bruce braces himself, feeling he won't like what the boy has to say. "I wanted to talk to you about assigning Danny a medical cuddle buddy."

Bruce blinks, feeling well out of his depth. Was that new teen lingo? "A medical cuddle Buddy?"

"It's like an emotional support animal." Wes starts, gesturing with his hands in a flip-flap sort of motion. Bruce noticed Danny tended to do the same when making an explanation. A culture thing? "His emotional, mental, and even physical well-being plummets when he goes too long without cuddling."

Bruce had concluded the same.

Over the last two days, he noticed that Danny had seemed far happier than the weeks he had been in the Manor. At first, he just assumed it was because he finally had someone who understood what he was going through. But now it was clear that it wasn't just the excitement of having Wes around. Danny looked as if he was healing from a long-term lack of nutrition.

It was not a lack of food, as Alfred would never allow anyone to go hungry under his roof.

There had to be something else.

"Danny isn't human," he ventures, watching Wes' body language. At once, the boy tensed up, a dark look in his eye and a precise curl of his lip indicating protective intensity. Bruce closes his laptop, curls his finger under his chin, and leans on them, giving his full attention. "I have no issues with Danny being anything other than human. But I need to know what I have to provide him to keep him healthy."

We hesitated for a long moment, staring back at Bruce like he was weighing the billionaire's soul. His intense eyes bore into Bruce's, flickering around his face as if trying to find a lie in his statement.

Eventually, the boy hesitantly responds. "Danny is part human. The other half is a being that relies on certain emotions to feed. The most common one is fear, which is why his parents tried to kill him when they found out his kind. Fear-based beings are...dangerous, so it was understandable even if it sucked."

Wes's face twists into a hateful and sad expression that lets Bruce know the kids are attempting to rationalize Danny's parents' behavior. He would make sure to tell Alfred not to allow the boy any contact with them. They held too much power over the kid.

"Danny isn't a fear-based than," Bruce prompts, to which Wes rapidly shakes his head.

"He isn't! Danny is....well, he's love-based. He feeds on different versions of love. Have you heard of the eight ancient Greeks' type of love?"

"I have"

Wes rubs his arm, looking relatively young for his age. "Danny feeds on Agape and Philia the most. He used to feed a lot on Storge, but well...you know how that turned out."

He did, indeed.

Does this mean Danny had already been cut off from a significant food source his people needed? Did it also mean that Danny wasn't the Fenton's by blood? How could they not know he was half of another being?

He needed answers to all the questions, but the most important one still resurfaced: "How does Danny feed?"

"Usually through physical contact. Emotions aren't corporal; they are felt through a body like a ripple in the water. When Danny touches someone who shares Agape or Philia with him, the ripples transfer from the contact to his core." Wes explained looking mroe sure of himself. "When I first arrived, Danny looked half-starved. He would have collapsed had it not been for Clockwork sending me."

That's alarming. "What could have happened if he went too long without any love?"

"His core would explode."

"And a core is?"

"Think of it like Danny's heart. It pumps his body with the energy his people need to survive. If it fails, Danny dies."

The last sentence hangs in the room like poisonous gas. Bruce feels his chest squeez at the mere thought that Danny would pass from soemthing they could easily provide for him. "I'll make sure that doesn't happen."

Wes cracks a shaky smile. "I figure you wouldn't. You seem like an okay guy. Can you make sure none of the ones feeling Eros towards Danny are his cuddle-buddy? I don't think his heart is ready for that just yet."

"Of course." Bruce was thinking of Alfred, Cass, Dick, Jason, and himself. All of them would quickly provide the emotion Danny needed. He tells Wes this with what he hopes is an assuring smile.

Wes shuffles his feet nervously before he yells, "Not Jason."

"Why?" Bruce asks, mystified.

"Danny might...um, have a crush on him." The boy mutters almost too low for Bruce to hear. He then glances up with a look of panic. "You can't tell Danny I told you!"

Bruce feels a headache coming on. Of course, out of all the children who had a thing for Danny, the boy chose one of the few of his kids who did not feel the same way. Knowing his son, Jason would probably think it was flattering but would gently let the boy down due to his age.

Jason refused to date anyone outside of a four-year difference from him in any direction. Danny was in for a painful confession.

Wait.

"Wes, what would happen if Danny experienced heartbreak? How does that affect his people?"

Wes blinks, confused, before shrugging. "I guess they die of heartbreak?"

Great.

I'm going to have to make Danny stay away from my second eldest like another stereotypical villain in Jason's romance novels. Bruce rubs his eyes. Or get him together with one of the others who actually likes him. Ugh.

He'll have to discuss things with Alfred. After all, that was his boy.

[renif]

a former jedi asks the proclaimed jedi killer to join forces on a bounty (it goes surprisingly better than expected)

[deliciousnecks]

some bts of S6 were posted on ig and... is this who i think it is? IS IT?

[royalarchivist]

Phil: Ooh, follow-up question: does Cucurucho count as an employee?

[Fred and the Security Guard look at each other]

Phil: You looked at- you looked at each other there like you had to think about it.

[Fred hands him a book that says "Yes"]

Phil: In that case, yes, but I'll change my answer. [The clip transitions to a scene a few moments later] He lies all the time-

[Fred hands him another book that says "Although I don't know who is Cucurucho."]

Phil: ...Excuse me? You don't know who Cucurucho is?

[Full transcript ↓ ]

Phil: Oh, follow-up question: does Cucurucho count as an employee?

[Fred and the Security Guard look at each other]

Phil: You looked at- you looked at each other there like you had to think about it.

[Fred hands him a book that says "Yes"]

Phil: In that case, yes, I'll change my answer. [The clip transitions to a scene a few moments later] He lies all the time-

[Fred hands him another book that says "Although I don't know who is Cucurucho."]

Phil: ...Excuse me? You don't know who Cucurucho is? [Fred shakes his head] He looks like a bear, he's got a smiley face? He talks like this: Ha ha ha. Disfruta la isla. You've never heard of him? He always shows up at really weird times. Do you call him something different?

[Fred hands him a book that says "The Census Bureau? I've never met it."]

Phil: So are the Census Bureau employees of the Federation? [Fred fidgets, but doesn't nod or shake his head] Is that a yes? Like, nod?

[Fred hands him a book that says "Anyways who's doing the interview here, you or me? Let's continue."]

Phil: I'm trying to answer your questions more accurately and you're just giving me curveballs dude!

[Fred hits him with a frying pan]

Phil: STOP WITH THE PAN, IT HURTS!

[notiddygothgf]

2. Dance With Me

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ Jealous? ❞ ❝ Maybe I am. ❞

★ c.w.: suggestive themes, drinking (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: ik i said id have an uploading schedule but UGH I JUST COULDNT LEAVE THIS OFF WITHOUT AN AKI/READER INTERACTION. this chapter is so deliciously tense im ngl i was ripping my shirt off like a werewolf god i love writing aki. anyway comment! like! interact w me and the story, it might encourage me to write more for u pookies ;)

★ w.c.;6.2k

shameless ; chapter index

THE PARTY WAS ALREADY in full swing by the time you arrived, the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses filling the elegant hall. The Public Safety event was more formal than you had expected, with everyone dressed in sleek, sophisticated attire. You smoothed down the black slip dress you had picked up from the mall a few hours before.

Your friend was easy to spot, already a bit tipsy in a black dress shirt and slacks, her laughter echoing above the crowd. She waved you over to the bar, her eyes bright with excitement. As you approached, you noticed a familiar blonde sitting next to him. 

A man with a scar on his face. Kishibe.

That bastard.

"You made it!" Himeno exclaimed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into a half-hug. "I was starting to think you bailed on me."

"I came for the drinks," you teased with a smile, glancing around the room. "Looks like everyone from Public Safety is here."

"Yeah, it's quite the turnout," Himeno said, taking another sip of her drink. "Come on, let me get you something. What'll it be?"

"Just a glass of wine, thanks," you said, leaning against the bar as Himeno signaled the bartender. You scanned the room, noting the familiar faces of colleagues and higher-ups mingling together, their expressions ranging from relaxed to intensely focused, depending on their conversations.

And then there he was again – over at the other side of the room, chatting it up with a younger-looking guy with orange hair. Your apparent favorite Devil Hunter, clad in a Public Safety suit and slacks. He looked just about as thrilled to be here as you were, eyes dim and uninterested in whatever it was that the other boy was saying. His arms were folded behind his back.

He looked... rather dashing. You could see why Himeno had her eyes on him.

Quickly, you averted your eyes, turning your attention to your old coworker. "Kishibe," You put on your best smile. "How have you been?"

He grinned – it was a little unnerving, as on the rare occasion Kishibe did smile, it usually wasn't a good thing. "Good, kid. You been staying alive?"

"Yeah, I've been living," you replied, accepting the glass of red wine Himeno handed you. There was a brief moment of silence, during which you took your first sip of the crimson liquid in your glass – tart. 

"I fuckin' hate this song," Yoshida said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He propped his chin up on his hand, eyes flitting over to Himeno. "Wanna dance?"

A few Devil Hunters had already found their way to the dance floor, swaying to the beat of the music. Himeno eyed them up precariously. 

"I was gonna wait for Aki to get over here. See if I could get him out there with me," She sighed. The orange cocktail pinched between her fingers swished around as she slid the glass back and forth. "Maybe she'll dance with 'ya?"

"Pass. I just got here," you said, taking a sip of your wine. The rich, fruity flavor was a pleasant distraction from the icky feeling in your gut – the one that had begun to brew when you saw him standing over there.

Himeno smiled, "Here he comes now."

You followed her gaze. Aki had long since left his friend at the edge of the dancefloor, and was now making his way over to the bar with that unreadable, solemn expression he always seemed to have. He was walking your way.

No. Himeno. He was walking towards her, you reminded yourself.

It didn't feel that way, though. Not when he was looking right at you.

Shit. He is walking towards me. You grabbed Kishibe by the sleeve. Suddenly, a dance seemed like a great idea. "You know what? Let's go!"

Kishibe whisked you away from the bar, his grip firm yet gentle. You glanced back at the scene you had left behind. Himeno smiled at Aki, but his eyes seemed to be tailing you.

"Didn't peg you for a dancer," you teased, trying to push thoughts of Aki from your mind as Kishibe led you into the rhythm of the song – and really, it was a terrible song. Some sappy love song from the 80s.

Kishibe smirked, a rare expression on his usually stoic face. "There's a lot you don't know about me," he replied, his voice low. The light seemed to reflect off of his face in such a way that he looked more tired than usual – the years had clearly taken their toll on him.

"Oh, do tell," you shot back, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled, his grip on your hand tightening slightly as he twirled you around. "Let's just say I've picked up a few things over the years."

"Color me impressed," You retorted. It was easy to forget the tension when you were laughing, even if it was just for a moment.

"You're not bad yourself," Kishibe admitted, guiding you through the steps with surprising grace.

"Years of practice," you replied with a smile. "Mind your feet around me, though."

Despite the lively atmosphere, you couldn't shake the sensation of Aki's gaze lingering on you. Every spin, every step, you felt it—a tangible thread of tension that kept drawing you back to the bar, to him. Kishibe's presence was a welcome distraction, his steady demeanor and occasional wry comments grounding you, but even then, your thoughts kept drifting back to him.

Before you knew it, the song had ended. You laughed, carefree, light, free, and clapped Kishibe on the shoulder.

"That wasn't so bad, actually," You admitted.

"Thanks for dancin' with me," Kishibe chuckled before straightening up and heading off toward the restrooms. "I'm going to take a leak."

And then he was moving away, moving towards the entrance at the front of the room.

You turned back toward the bar, your eyes scanning the crowd until they found Hayakawa. He hadn't moved, much to your chagrin. He was still there, his eyes fixed on you. The sight of him sent a jolt of anticipation through you, a mix of curiosity and something deeper, something you weren't quite ready to acknowledge. More importantly, Himeno wasn't there.

Making your way back to the bar, you couldn't help but feel the weight of his gaze intensify with each step. The distance between you seemed to shrink, the room around you fading into the background. As you approached, you braced yourself, your heart pounding in your chest.

You had his attention and he most certainly had yours.

You took a seat next to him at the bar. Though, honestly, it wasn't really next to him – you had been sure to allow one empty seat between the both of you. You told yourself it was so that Himeno would have somewhere to sit (next to her eye candy). A more dishonorable part of you felt as if that one empty seat would act as a barrier of sorts, a wall between you and him, between your thoughts and the man who seemed to occupy them.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him tug back his sleeve, glancing down at a watch. Was he waiting for Himeno?

"Where'd she run off to?" You asked, finally breaking the agonizing silence between the two of you.

He turned to you with an unreadable expression, brows furrowed. "Who?"

Who? Is this guy serious? You thought, but chose not to voice said thoughts.

"Himeno," You clarified. 

"Oh," He answered, "The bathroom, I think."

A man of many words.

You cleared your throat, glancing down at your lap for a brief moment before making eye contact with him again – a task that proved to be far more difficult than it would have seemed. "Lieutenant Captain Hayakawa, right?" When he nodded, you extended your hand towards him, introducing yourself by name once more.

"Yes, from the Kyoto sector. I remember you," He deadpanned, as if that much should have been obvious. Clearly, he hadn't forgotten your meeting on the train, and had no interest in pretending as if this was the first time the two of you had ever laid eyes upon one another. "We met on the train. What are you doing here?"

"If you're talking about Tokyo, then I was called in by Makima for backup," You sighed. Absentmindedly, you drummed your fingers against the bar countertop. There was only you, Aki, the bartender, and the other four patrons of said bar there. "If you're talking about here– this party, then I only came because Himeno invited me. The open bar's a plus, too."

"She invited me, too," He replied. He didn't sound too happy that such had occurred.

I know.

You chuckled, "Not a big party guy?"

"Definitely not," He agreed. "You?"

"I used to be, once upon a time," You smiled. "I think it was the drinks that used to liven me up, though. I don't remember parties always being so..." You trailed off, moving your hands as if you were trying to find the right words to say.

"Disappointing?" He finished for you.

"Yeah," You felt yourself laugh a little. "I guess. I feel like they can be overwhelming, sometimes. I'm too sober to party these days."

"Couldn't agree more," He sighed. The bartender – from whom, apparently, the man had already ordered a something-and-coke – placed a glass full of dark brown liquid in front of him. "Can I get you something to drink? We can fix that problem."

You waved him off – how would it look, after all, if you were seen getting drunk on another man's dime when you had a husband waiting for you at home? "Don't spend your money on me, I probably won't be here long."

"What's your vice?" He asked, eyes glinting with something you couldn't place. "Beer? Liquor? Dark or Light?"

You couldn't fight the toothy grin that crawled over your lips, "Wine, if you must know."

"What kind?" He asked.

"Red."

Without wasting another moment, he asked the blond bartender for a glass of Merlot. He uncapped a bottle of red wine. He poured you half of a glass, placing it in front of your trembling hands.

You turned to the young Captain, brow quirked, gripping the stem of the red liquid. 

"You tried it before?" He asked. When you nodded, he continued, a peculiar tone following his words, "I've heard it's pretty tasty."

Tasty. God.

Married woman! Remind him. 

"I have it at dinner with my husband sometimes," You answered easily, taking a calm, calculated sip of the wine. Good,you thought. Mention your husband. That should make him back off. "Pairs well with steak."

"Is he here with you tonight?" He asked.

You felt your eyes widen. "No, he's in Kyoto..." you muttered, taking a few more much-needed chugs of the wine.

He hummed. If he thought something about that, he didn't say anything. "The wine matches your lipstick."

He's looking at my lips.

The empty seat between the two of you felt a little smaller – like his buttery-smooth voice was drawing you in, enticing you to tell him things you knew you shouldn't say. Before you could open your mouth to tell him something along the lines of, "I really should get going now. Bye!", you were interrupted by the one person you really didn't want to see after making goo-goo eyes at Captain Hayakawa.

"Hiya," Himeno greeted the two of you, plopping down on the stool between you and Hayakawa. "What are we talking about over here?"

Hayakawa answered smoothly as the words died on your lips, eyes never once leaving your face. "We were just bonding over a mutual distaste for parties."

She rolled her eyes, throwing an arm around you, "Don't worry. She'll liven up as soon as she gets a few drinks in her system. She used to be the life of the party."

"That's an exaggeration," You shook your head.

"Hardly," She retorted. "Back in the day, she could outdrink anyone, including me."

You took a few more sips of your wine.

Hayakawa pulled his drink up to his mouth, "I find that hard to believe."

"I'm being serious," She reaffirmed. She was about to say something else when a hand on her shoulder interrupted her – it belonged to an older looking man in a black tuxedo. Her eyes widened with recognition.

"Can I steal you away for a moment?" He asked her, voice gruff.

"Of course!" She smiled, bright as always. She turned to you apologetically before rising from her seat,  "Sorry, I'll be back later."

Then it was just the two of you again – you and Hayakawa, whose gaze was so heavy that you felt as if you were suffocating beneath it.

"Can you really outdrink her?" He asked. "She's got a liver of steel."

"Damn right she does!" You laughed – really laughed, this time. "Seven-eight years ago? Yes. Now, I'm not so sure."

Something in his gaze shifted at the sound of it. He leaned closer, inching towards the empty seat, the unspoken line between you and him. "Finish up your wine, then. Let's test that theory."

"Is that a challenge?" You asked him.

"Maybe," Hayakawa said, a faint smirk playing on his lips. The tension between you was thick, almost electric. "What if I don't believe you?"

"I don't know," you hesitated, glancing at your nearly empty wine glass. "I probably should head home soon."

"We'll be fast," he assured, his eyes locked on yours.

"I don't know about that," you replied, looking in the direction Himeno had gone. "Himeno can talk for a while. God knows when she'll be back."

"Forget about her, then," he said, his voice low and smooth, bringing you back to the present – where it was just you and him, only a foot apart, speaking quietly. "Drink with me."

His boldness made your heart flutter. "Right now?" you asked, trying to steady your voice.

"Yes," he said, leaning closer, the smirk still lingering. "Unless you're forfeiting the match?"

He had you there. You couldn't back down from a challenge, not when he was looking at you like... that. 

What would your husband think? A part of you resented him just a little bit for taking you away from that lifestyle, from this, but you were still married. You had to do right by him.

Still, it wasn't like you were actively doing anything wrong. It was just a drink. 

So, deciding to follow through on your mission to 'loosen up a little', you downed the rest of your wine. "Alright," You sighed. "But we're taking tequila shots. I want this to be quick."

"Fine," he agreed, his smirk widening.

You called the blond bartender over again and asked for six shots of tequila. He set down six small glasses, pouring a shot of clear liquid into each of them. He garnished each of the six glasses with a lime wedge. 

You leaned over the empty seat, sliding three of the glasses over to him.

"Here's how I used to do them," you said, placing salt on the back of your hand. "You lick it," you instructed, holding your hand out to him. "And then you take the shot, then suck on the lime."

He hesitated for a moment before leaning in, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt on your skin. The muscle was hot and wet, drawing a line from your knuckles to your wrist. Perhaps it was the warmth of his mouth on your hand, or the way he peered up at you through his half-lidded eyes and lowered lashes so shamelessly. Perhaps it was the wine in your system doing its work already. Either way, you couldn't help the heat that spread over your neck and your face – the stir in your chest that you tried to ignore.

It's just a shot. You quickly salted your own hand and licked it, trying to focus. You clinked glasses with him, and together you downed the shots, immediately sucking on the lime wedges.

Both of you winced at the strong taste, but you couldn't help but laugh at the face he made. You could feel the warmth of the alcohol spreading through you immediately. It could have been that, or the way he was looking at you with those pretty blue eyes of his, but you felt different.

"Not so tough now, huh?" You teased.

He licked the remnants of the lime juice off of his lips.

Oh. Oh. He's dangerous.

"Don't be so sure of yourself. Only one shot down," He replied, reaching for the second shot already. "Two more to go, right?"

This time, when you clinked your glass against his, it felt an awful lot like you were sealing your fate. You tilted your head back, and then the tequila burned its way down your throat – searing hot, like his mouth had felt against the back of your hand, like his eyes had felt on your red-tinted lips. .

The next shots flew by in a blur of laughter. By the time you took your fifth, it was clear that you couldn't hold your liquor as well as you used to. The room felt warmer, the lights a little brighter, and your inhibitions significantly lower. Dangerously lower.

Somewhere along the way, he crossed the unspoken line and moved a seat closer to you. Somewhere along the way, you put your hand on his knee, hunched over, shoulders shaking with laughter – and still, no sign of Himeno.

"That's ridiculous," You said. "All of that for some sliced bread?"

"12 different kinds of jam. Wasted." Hayakawa deadpanned. "That's what I've been trying to tell you, he's fucking ridiculous."

"That's not so bad," You added. (Trying to play the devil's advocate, as always), "Did he clean up after himself, at least?"

"Denji's not so bad with that. Took the fucker long enough," Hayakawa commented. He moved his straw to the side, taking a sip of what was left of his drink (which you had learned was a whiskey and coke after he'd offered you a sip), "The other one..." He added, pausing to frown. "I don't even wanna think about it. It'll ruin my mood, and I only just started to enjoy myself."

Your drunken laughter could have been heard from the fucking moon. "Don't say that. You've been here longer than I have."

He knit his brows together, "Been bored out of my mind all night, until you came around."

Had the world always been so blurry around the edges? "Why's that?" You asked. "You could've gone out on the dancefloor, or something. You only live once."

You really wished you could be sober again – only because it meant that your verbal filter would return, and you would stop being a blubbering idiot.

"Didn't feel like dancing," He replied.

You patted his leg, giggling sarcastically, "Why not?"

"Because," He said, "You were dancing with someone else."

Your face was alight, on fire – you blamed it on the booze. 

"Jealous?" You asked, only partially joking.

You should have known better. You should have stopped drinking about thirty minutes ago. No, better yet; you should have walked away the moment he offered to buy you a drink. You should have done the right thing from the start – turn away from the captivating Devil Hunter and his soft lips against your hand, the desire in his eyes – but you didn't.

"Maybe I am," He replied, voice deep and velvety and – fuck . "You seemed like a good dancer earlier tonight. It's a crime, wasting skills like that on a man like Kishibe."

"So, what, you're saying you wouldn't dance with Himeno but you'd dance with me?" You asked.

"Yeah," He answered with a great deal of certainty. "I guess that's exactly what I'm saying."

You blinked, momentarily taken aback. The man before you was a far cry from the stoic Captain you met on the train. This version of Hayakawa was carefree, almost boyish, and undeniably charming (and drunk).

Still, you were undeniably married, and people talked.

"I'm married, Hayakawa," you hesitated, glancing around. "I shouldn't even be drinking with you right now."

He pouted, a surprisingly endearing expression on his usually composed face. "Dance with me."

"Is that the captain's orders?" You asked with the slightest, breathiest chuckle, the slightest roll of your eyes.

"If that'll make you dance with me, then, yes," He replied, much to your surprise. "Captain's orders."

"Aren't you, like, 20?" You asked. "A little young to be so cocky, don't you think?"

"I'm your superior," He shrugged. 

"I'm not used to being spoken to like that by a man I met once on the train," You retorted. "You may be my superior, but I'm older than you. Have some respect."

He leaned a little closer to you. "If I'm not dancing with you, then I'm getting out of here and going home."

You raised an eyebrow. Wow.

You shouldn't. You really, really shouldn't.

Against your better judgment, you sighed, "You better not step on my toes."

"Never," he grinned. "Lead the way."

Despite yourself, you couldn't help but smile. The combination of his charm and the alcohol had eroded your resistance. You took his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours, the contact sending a jolt through you. It was something you hadn't felt in a long time.

You led him to the dance floor.

The music was lively, and the atmosphere was buzzing with energy. You guided him through the steps, your bodies moving in sync. He stumbled a bit at first, but his determination to learn was endearing.

"It's a simple two-step," You told him. Tapping his shoe with the toe of your heel, you replicated the movement for him. "Like this, see? One, two – Left, right."

Hesitantly, he followed your rhythm, swaying to the left, then the right. He tripped over himself the second time around, muttering, "Shit, sorry."

Laughter bubbled up between the two of you as he tried to follow your lead. He was surprisingly light on his feet, and his genuine effort made the experience enjoyable. There was a sense of camaraderie, a shared moment that felt almost... intimate.

The ghost of his touch down the open back of your dress, your spine, over your waist nearly made you gasp. 

His words were a low whisper against the shell of your ear, "Is it okay if I hold you here?"

His hands rested on your waist, firm yet gentle, as he tried to mimic your movements. Every brush of his fingers against your skin gave you chills. The closeness was intoxicating, each movement drawing you nearer to him.

Fucking hell. He was going to be the death of you. It was a big mistake – this whole thing was. You and liquor didn't mix well. Combine that with a devilishly handsome Captain, and...

You could do nothing but nod.

"There you go, you've got it," you said, your voice breathy from the exertion and the intoxicating proximity – his cologne, the scent of him, it was all intoxicating, as matter of fact. "Left, then right, then left. Just like that."

As the song continued, the space between you seemed to shrink even further. You could feel the heat of his body, his breath mingling with yours. Your heart was racing a mile a minute – or was that your head spinning? You couldn't tell.

"Are you having fun?" he asked, his voice low.

"Maybe a little," you admitted, your eyes locking with his.

And there it was again. That invisible magnet that always seemed to pull the two of you together. For a moment, he made it easy to forget about your morals and obligations. It was just you and him and only a few inches of space between your body and his much larger one. 

His hands slid up your sides, settling just below your ribcage. Your breath hitched as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "Me too."

You were gonna pass out. You were gonna pass out and explode all over the dance floor, and he would have to scrape your remains off the floor.

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. 

You tried to lose yourself in the music, focusing on the lively beat and the sensation of Hayakawa's hands guiding you. The rhythm pulsed through your body, each beat a lifeline in the chaotic sea of your emotions. You forced a smile, trying to appear as if you were in the moment with him, but it didn't work. The guilt gnawed at you, every pulse of the music reminding you of the boundary you were too close to crossing.

"I–" you began, your voice barely audible over the music – which wasn't actually all that loud, but sounded like a blaring roar in your mind.

Whatever you were going to say effectively died in your mouth the moment you looked up at him. Those pretty baby blues of his, his plump lips wrapped around something you didn't quite hear.

Every time you closed your eyes, flashes of your husband's face invaded your thoughts. His smile, the way he looked, the quiet moments you shared in the comfort of your home. Each memory was a sharp pang of guilt that contrasted painfully with the thrill you felt in Hayakawa's arms. 

You felt the warmth of Hayakawa's hand on your back, guiding you effortlessly across the dance floor, away from the memories. 

"Hey," He said, "You look a little faint."

You forced a laugh, trying to mask the turmoil inside you. "It's a little hot in here, isn't it?" 

Ignoring the guilt became increasingly difficult as his hand slid up your arm, sending an electric shiver down your spine. The touch was both thrilling and terrifying. You felt like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering dangerously close to falling. His fingers left a trail of fire on your skin, each touch a reminder of how far you were straying from the person you believed yourself to be.

"Is everything okay?" Hayakawa asked, concern flickering in his eyes. "You seem a little distracted."

You nodded quickly, trying to steady your breathing. "I'm fine," you lied. "Hayakawa, look, I–"

His gaze softened, his thumb brushing gently, almost unnoticeably over the back of your hand. "Aki," he said, his voice sincere. "Call me Aki."

You knew you were drunk, too drunk to be making any rational decisions. You should go home, you told yourself, but his eyes held you captive. Deep and intense, they seemed to see right through you, igniting something inside you that you hadn't felt in a long time. The pull was irresistible, and you found yourself leaning into him, your body betraying your mind.

You hadn't been touched this way – so intimately, yet so respectfully – in years.

"Aki," you breathed, practically reeling in the way the syllables felt as they slipped off your lips – utterly taboo, two sinful tricks of the tongue. "I don't think," You swallowed the guilt down, "We shouldn't be doing this."

Aki's smile was faint, almost altogether absent. "We shouldn't," he said, his voice filled with a determination that made your heart skip a beat, "Do you want me to stop?"

You looked away, trying to regain control. The room spun slightly, the alcohol clouding your senses. You must have drunk too much. Trying to steady yourself, you scanned the room, and then you saw her. 

Himeno stood at the edge of the dance floor. Her cocktail was clenched in her hand, her eyes filled with sadness and betrayal. The sight of her hit you like a punch to the fucking gut – how must this whole thing have looked from her perspective? The image of the man she'd been trying to get with for a year swaying side to side with you, faces only inches apart, dancing around the elephant in the room.

Oh my god. What have I done?

The guilt surged forward, stronger than before. How could you have let it go this far? 

You felt suddenly sick, the weight of your mistake crashing down on you like a fucking anvil. 

This needs to stop, you thought, panic rising in your chest. I'm making a huge mistake. Snap out of it.

You pushed Aki away, your movements abrupt and forceful. His eyes widened in surprise and confusion, a hurt look crossing his face. He opened his mouth to speak, you spoke first – you knew that if you let him utter another peep, he would convince you to stay.

"I feel sick. Excuse me," you blurted out, your voice trembling.

Then, like the coward you were, you turned and fled, your steps unsteady as you wove drunkenly through the crowd. 

The pounding music and the murmur of conversations faded into the background, the room spun around you as you hurried toward the exit, Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. 

I have to leave. Oh my god. I've ruined everything. I have to leave.

Bursting through the door into the lobby you took a deep breath, hoping it would calm the storm inside you. A little calmer now that you had escaped the scene, you marched towards the entrance. You didn't know where you'd left your jacket and, to be frank, you didn't care.

The first gust of wind against your hot face felt like heaven. The night was quiet, save for the quiet traffic noises only a few yards away.

I need to call a taxi.

You knew you had narrowly avoided a disaster, but the guilt and confusion remained, gnawing at you. What had you been thinking? How had you let yourself get so carried away? 

Practically running into the road, you waved your hand around, calling, "Taxi!"

Out of the four or five cabs in the road, of course, nobody stopped. Just when you thought your luck was going to change, the taxi you had originally thought to be headed towards you drove right on past your waving arms.

You huffed out a frustrated sigh, kicking your heels into the gravel. The quiet sounds of the nocturnal city of Tokyo accompanied your misery. I fucked up.

A call of your name a few feet behind you made your stomach do a backflip. Fuck.

You ignored him, wrapping your arms around yourself, rubbing your hands over your skin to soothe the goosebumps all over it. You walked further away from him, to the other side of the curb. 

And, of course, your efforts were entirely in vain. You could hear the dreaded footsteps as they slowed to a stop behind you, then feel the gentle weight of a heavy fabric over your shoulders – a black suit jacket. The notes of his cologne that lingered on the fabric surrounded you – comforted you, blanketed you.

"You're gonna catch a cold out here like that," Aki spoke finally, breaking the silence. His voice was so deep, so melodic, that you almost wished he hadn't. 

"Why are you here?" You asked rather harshly. Your tone was cold, biting, something that seemed a little out of character for you, considering that you were just swaying with him on the dance floor a moment or two ago. "Are you leaving?"

"I should be the one asking you that," He sighed. 

You swallowed, finally turning around to face him head on. He looked desperate, bangs frizzy and hair a little messy, donning a loosened tie around the collar of his partially unbuttoned white shirt. He was so fucking gorgeous that it physically hurt to be this close to him, to have him leaning over to get his face close to yours, his jacket draped over your cold shoulders. 

"Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry if I overstepped," He added. "It wasn't my intention to make you feel uncomfortabl–"

"Stop, just–" You interrupted him. You sounded a little breathless when you said it. "Stop it. Go back inside. Go–" You swallowed, voice trembling only slightly as you finished, "Go back to Himeno."

Although fairly uncertain as to why, you knew you were acting unwise. What was your fucking problem tonight?

His eyes were unwavering pools of passion – ocean waves crashing against the sandy color of his skin, luring you deeper into the abyss. He lifted a perfectly arched brow, uttering innocently, "Why? I want to be where you are."

"Stop it," You hissed. Any minute now someone would step outside for a cigarette and see this whole thing going down. They would hear everything he was saying to you, and with your luck, it would be Himeno. You didn't need to act a fool in front of anyone else tonight.

You finished, "If you're a good man, you'll forget about this whole– this whole thing and just– leave me be." 

Correction. Apparently, Aki was an exception to your previous statement about not acting a fool.

Finally, finally, a cab pulled up to the curb. In fact, it just might have been the first good thing to happen to you that entire evening. You waved it down frantically, rejoicing internally when it didn't drive away. 

A hand on your shoulder physically stopped you from bolting into the cab the way you wished to, "I can't do that."

Desperate to get it through his thick skull, you clipped back, "I'm married!" 

He took a step towards you. You inched backwards.. 

"You weren't acting like it," He retorted. "I can't forget about tonight. I know you felt it, too–"

"Enough!" You finally snapped – you weren't fully aware of how loud you had shouted that word until he looked at you with wide, hurt eyes. With a sigh, you went for the cab door, finishing the conversation without so much as turning around, "Goodnight, Captain Hayakawa."

He's still your superior. Be polite.

You got into the cab and practically slammed the door shut behind you. Adjusting yourself and buckling in, you told the driver, "Hilton Shinjuku, please."

The moustached man hummed, "Of course." The distinct sound of a phone ringing broke into the atmosphere, and he quickly excused himself before taking the call. 

You sighed, laying your head back against the headrest. Fuck. 

Being alone with your thoughts was bad enough, but adding alcohol into the mixture proved to make not flipping the hell out even more difficult. You had fucked up real bad – you couldn't even think straight, let alone think about what consequences awaited you after you sobered up. What would Himeno think of you? What would your husband think of you? Fuck.

Absentmindedly, you toyed with the fabric draped over your shoulders. Wait– Did I forget to give him his fucking jacket back?

The cab driver flipped his phone shut before driving off. "Sorry, for the wait, Ma'am."

The day couldn't have gotten any worse if it tried.

"Shit," You hissed quietly, moreso to yourself than anyone in particular. 

As you flopped back against the backseat of the cab, your fingers brushed up against something in the pocket of his jacket. It felt like a little gum wrapper – a paper sheet, or something like that. Against your better judgment, you pulled it out and unfolded whatever the object was. 

A small paper slip sat in the palm of your hand. One that had a phone number on it.

You looked down at the slip, noticing his handwriting—strong, confident strokes. You rubbed your thumb over the ink, tracing the numbers absentmindedly. 

Fuck, that was smooth. You couldn't help but feel a pang of something—admiration? Attraction? Annoyance?��as you thought about how effortlessly he had slipped the note into his jacket pocket, of all things. What am I supposed to do now?

Throw it out. Burn it. Anything but call it, for certain, you thought.

Still, you couldn't help but cast a subconscious glance out the rear window to where he had been standing – where you knew he probably was still standing.

And, sure as rain, there he was, standing six-foot-something on the edge of the sidewalk, gaze chasing the back of your cab. You could feel the heat of him even after the driver pulled out. You watched as he pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a practiced flick. The flame briefly illuminated his face, highlighting the intensity in his eyes as he took a drag and exhaled slowly, the smoke swirling around him in the cool night air.

He watched you drive off into the night. You watched him watch you until he disappeared behind the sea of cabs and cars that dotted the streets of Tokyo. Then, once you were absolutely sure that he was out of sight, you sank back into the seat, releasing a breath you didn't know you'd been holding in.

A soft chuckle escaped the cab driver, who caught your eye in the rearview mirror. "Rough night?"

You nodded sadly, pressing your cheek against the icy cold window, "You have no idea."

a/n: kekeke MUAHAHAHAAA!! ugh i love him sm. lmk what you all thought!! love u bunches

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

[potato-lord-but-not]

Hello, Friend.

Seems like the Watchers and others have cracked the colour code.

If you want to submit your final answer, all you have to do is this;

Reply with the colours and their meanings.

That is all.

Then the code will be granted.

:)

-Puzzlemaster

GAHHHGG OKAY OKAY

green = involvements, yellow = me, pink = nothing important, black = mystery, = red = you, and purple = power !!!

If I didn’t get that right I’m going to explode, also thank you @get-your-fuckin-star-bitch for getting the last meaning YIPPPEEE !!!

[ooctlt]

Have any of you tried to figure out where harrow gets the money? Like, follow her or smth. Or, Since she steals people's clothes you could probably slip an apple air tag tracker into the pockets of something, and see where she goes. It would be her fault for stealing, so she couldnt complain if she found out (well she could, but she wouldn't have all the moral high ground)

then she went back home

harrows job: 1

[sneezarify]

on another note, for contagion lovers…

last week when he was sick I had been avoiding sickness very successfully, UNTIL I accidentally used his TOOTHBRUSH only noticing at half way through the 2 mins.

I woke up the next day sniffling, nose dripping with a sore throat and all the other classic pre cold symptoms.

[azzysecondary]

WHAT?!?!?

WHAT IS HAPPENING?!? THIS CERTAINLY IS AN EMOTIONAL 180._. -

[emacrow]

Kronos, Agent A, and bites marks

Kronos looked a bit skittish and dejected after the sixth Doctor nearly got iced by her baby after he made an unfortunate choice of mumbling words which lead to Batman calling in a favor from the Wayne's to bring in a good doctor that actually can get near both the ancient beings long enough to give a diagnosis.

Incoming Agent A, who was calmly explained the situation as he walked slowly into the containment. Kronos look at him for a moment before a bit of realization flickered in his eyes, as she murmur something.

Batman and the other heroes watches behind the hidden camera screen office, watching as Alfred check Kronos's temperature, painless blood drawn, checking her heart and breathing and gave a clear full body examination to a couple heroes were shocked to see a long horrifyingly yet old looking scar on her stomach area that look like someone dragged something sharp and was stretched a bit wide.

That gave one point to Diana theory of Kronos story being warped dramatically, but the fact of that Zeus did cut opened Kronos's stomach to pull out his siblings pin true.

A couple of more minutes past with alfred carefully examination the baby boy who was a bit squirmish while alfred did a couple of comments obviously praising Kronos whom face flushed a rather colorful red blush turning her head a bit. Alfred did asked and provides Kronos and Her baby much better comfortable Maternal and baby clothes then what they were currently wearing.

By the time alfred came out of the containment cell, alfred's soft gentleman look shifted a bit, before speaking after handing the vials of swirling golden glowing blood.

"Both madam and the child are well, a bit underweight, Ms. Kronos will need headache relief medicine, both her and the child is in need of a very light seasoned meal and drinks to not overwhelmed their senses in which I'll be providing." Alfred told then after handing the written documents forms of the examination. Batman could only grunt a bit, considering he trying not to look back at Alfred's glance considering his armored wrist had a tiny bite marks that actually dented the armor with indents.

"Ms. Kronos did asked what and where is this place as I asked what was the last thing she recalled was falling from Olympic while trying to hide her child but as she spoke, it seem to cause her abdominal pain that seem to be PTSD related." Alfred said to which batman nod knowing that Alfred would never lied to him.

Part 3 << >> Part 5

[asurrogateblog]

Oh yeah, in Get Back, after George asks Paul if he regretted going to India, John said "I don't regret anything. Even Bob Wooler." Then he deepthroated the mic...........

do you know if there’s more than one cut of this scene or something? I have a video of that saved and I don’t hear him say anything about bob wooler, it skips right from “I don’t regret anything” to him blowing the mic

(also @menlove you’re involved in this now too we’ve gotta find this)

[betweenblackberrybranches]

Uh, to be fair your majesty.

The second time was entirely your fault.

You did poke a nasty bruise to wake them up. Did you expect they wouldn't react to that? ^^" humans can't exactly control what they do when asleep or in reaction like that when woken up

So technically it's still one attempted assault by trumpet- though to be fair to them I think they were just scared and if they'd known you were friendly/the king they wouldn't have tried to defend themselves

(Also uh, so, how many human prisoners are kinda just bones now...?)

》oh.... well i guess a moderate punishment for the second assault is appropriate then, they still hurt the king of this realm. And my most trusted guards are about to come back with the report on the prisoners. Then i can leave the research on who let this human run around my realm unsupervised in the first place to them.《

Guys? You understand what this big guy is saying? Are you talking to him?

》Oh look! there they are《

》Your Majesty, we might have a small problem with the human prisoners they- ..... is... umm what is our- i mean that human doing there?《

》Sundrop. Shhh《

[misteria247]

2012:

Turns out trying to find anything on Gravity Falls was surprisingly difficult Dipper and Mabel were quick to learn. The town was small enough that it wasn't on any road maps, nor was it really visited enough to be talked about much. Online searches yielded very little for the twins, and often times led to dead ends. Much to Dipper's annoyance. But that wasn't the only thing that bothered him about this whole mystery.

Other than keeping it on the down low from grandpa Shermie, (who Mabel and Dipper both agreed should be kept out of the loop. He'd hid the picture after all and if they were going to solve it they'd have to keep it to themselves), there was another thing that bothered Dipper.

The name Mcgucket.

For some strange reason that name sounded familiar. Though Dipper for the life of him couldn't figure out why. It was as he was sitting in his and Mabel's bedroom that the answer came to him. Dipper was sitting on his bed, a little journal full of evidence of this mystery opened before him as he chewed the end of his pen thinking. Mabel was laying on hers, listening to some kind of true crime podcast to pass the time. As Dipper read the voice of the host played in the background.

"Cold case number 12. The disappearance of inventor Mcgucket. Not much is known about it, other than the last sighting of him-"

Dipper about dropped his pen.

"Mabel! Turn that up-!"

The younger twin said, voice rushed. Mabel who was knitting a sweater while listening somewhat, jumped at her brother's voice before doing what he asked. Once up the two zoned in on the voice, listening.

"While the case was dropped by the Oregon police department, Mr. Mcgucket's ex wife, Emma-May had continued the search for the missing man. However, she would never find him. The case has long since gone cold, however resources say that the only son, Tate Mcgucket, is still trying to find any information on his missing father. If you have any information please contact-"

Dipper was already writing down the number to contact this Tate Mcgucket. Mabel sat, a sudden dawning realization in her dark brown eyes.

"That's why the name Mcgucket was familiar! It was a news story back in the 80s! Grandpa Shermie mentioned it that one time!"

Dipper paused remembering the incident. The children had been younger and their parents were talking about old cases from back in the day. And their grandpa Shermie, not really thinking about it had briefly mentioned the Mcgucket missing persons case. Though when pried for more details their grandpa had closed off immediately. Not wanting to talk about it anymore.

'Was it because he personally knew Fiddleford Mcgucket? The same guy from the photograph?'

Dipper thought puzzling it out. Mabel sensing her twin's curiosity slowly pushed their shared cellphone towards him.

"Only one way to find out Dipping Dot."

She said giving him a look. Dipper stared at the phone, before looking back at Mabel nodding. A determined gleam in his gaze. Picking up the phone he stared at the number he'd written down before punching it in and pressing send.

Somewhere deep in Oregon by the Gravity Falls lake, an old landline springs to life. It's shrill ringing echoing throughout. A young man, reading a magazine, let out a tired sigh before reaching over to answer the phone.

"Ello, this is Mcgucket Fishing shack how can I help you?"

What he heard next made him grip his phone, magazine falling into his lap.