#and actually made his own food every day instead of just throwing something in the microwave

[dandp]

I'm watching through the early Phil younows for the first time and boy, we understandably harp on Dan the most for the 2012 era denial/overcompensating but Phil's contributions are fascinating. So far my highlights include:

"Dan and I don't do everything together because then we would get sick of each other...as friends" ok no one was reading into it as if you weren't friends

Him willingly reading out "would you rather marry Dan or lick a hobo" and having an extended moment of silence that lasts way too long to be casual as he fights for his life trying to figure out what to say before saying hobo and quickly trying to move on. Then Dan joins later on and he unprompted tells Dan about this. Also should be noted shortly after he answered he was like "huh weird my chat is suddenly being slow and there's nothing for me to read out" which seems a little too convenient to me

[littleplantfreak]

Netflix and chillin’…and killin’

A Ghostface!Umemiya x Reader NSFW fic for our Toyko Station Server Collab!! hosted by lovlies @hayatoseyepatch and @rindous-starlight

Content warnings: Dark Content, Murder, Stalking, Yandere!Ume, P in V Sex, Dumbification, Dubcon/Noncon depending on how you take it?) Descriptions of Violence, Overstimulation, Slight Corruption, probably OOC, a brief mention of abuse, uhhh read at your own risk ig. Srry if I forgot one. Anything you’d THINK is ghostface-esque is here so //vague hand gestures

Summary: Your boyfriend is such a green flag you overlook all the red ones hidden behind it. Once you find out his secret at an inopportune time, it doesn’t really end well.

word count: 3200ish

You’re taught not to play with your food. You’re also taught not to put a knife in someone’s throat, so really thinking about it…he’s already broken so many rules it shouldn’t matter if he breaks a few more.

He’s got self-restraint, to a point obviously. It took a whole week of stalking to get this guy’s patterns down to a ‘T’ after all, and then another two days to pick the right time both alibi-wise and just convenience really. Where and when the best time to strike is, just how much line on the rope he should let this guy dangle by. How far he can run...the heartbeat in his chest should be pounding just as hard as his feet hitting the floor or it's no fun. The sound of Umemiya's knife wet and popping, straining against chest cartilage and muscle. He loves to play with his food, he decides, and when it comes to you-

“You’re playing with your food again, Haji.”  You smile behind your hand due to your own food in your mouth, looking at him with nothing short of unbridled affection. Giving a little poke into his rice, you steal some for yourself. You’ve never once yelled at him for playing with his food; you actually think he’s cute when he does it. He’s cutest, though, when he’s dazed and thinking about something that’s got his cheeks heating up in a field of rosy red. Sometimes he tells you it's because he's thinking about you, and other times he'll say it's a secret as he throws a wink your way.

“Sorry, I was out of it again, huh?” He asks before holding his own spoon up to your mouth as an apology for losing himself in his own head. He watches you now, carving your face into his memory like he does every time he gets a little emotional at the way you’ve made feelings burn through his chest. You eat from his spoon, thankfully, an even happier smile on your cheeks, stuffed like a chipmunk with food. Cute enough to eat, he thinks.

The restaurant was empty save for you two and an older couple at the bar. Your eyes catch the newspaper the man is reading, and you can’t stop the grimace from twisting your features. If Umemiya followed your line of sight, he knows it would take him to the headline about yesterday’s murder and the killing spree that has been taking place in town. There’s a question on your tongue that you hold, thinking the answer to “Where were you last night?” will be the same as ever.

 'At home, of course!' he'd chirp. Hiragi, his roommate, made something homemade that Hajime brought to you just this morning, saying they made too much once again. So instead, you chew your lip before looking back to see him finishing the last of the food, that flushed look on his face again while his thoughts go elsewhere.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The call comes from a local number. Although it’s stupid to answer when you’re not sure of the caller, your name and number are up on the town bulletin board to tutor any local kids in need of a little extra help. Hajime put you up to it, knowing you need something to take your mind off the most recent deaths plaguing your thoughts. When you answer it, for a moment you’re left with dead air.

“Hello?” Your voice cuts through, ready to hang up. 

“Hey pretty girl,” a voice answers as if muffled by something. You’re not entertained by this. If some kids want to prank you, this is not the way to do it.

“If you’re gonna be a creep then-”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” 

“What?”

“Your favorite scary movie. Everyone has one.”

“I don’t like scary movies.”

“Living in one good enough for you?” the voice teases.

“What does that mean?” 

“Means you should check on that friend of yours who was stubborn enough to try and get in the way. Ah…did you know your back door is unlocked?”

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, slowly turning your head to see a white mask flash past your window before you give chase, grabbing the bat you keep near your front door. By the time you make it outside though, he’s long gone.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

This time playing with his food was a means to an end for Ume. Less choice and more necessity from the way you sometimes looked at him like he might be suspect. Like the blood under his nails isn’t just from a fight or a stray nosebleed, and like you may just bite off a little more than you can chew. Playing with his food just isn’t as fun as it used to be now that he really likes you, but the call was necessary. 

He makes sure to show up right when you call him, telling you he’d been helping Kotoha with closing up the cafe. He had definitely done that, only breaking for a few minutes to climb out of the bathroom window, do the job, and tell you to check on Sakura since he was stupid enough to try and save the most recent victim. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

He might be waiting for you to figure it out. That cute little brain of yours is so smart, putting together clues, and chasing his alter ego before coming to a halt at the brick wall he's placed perfectly in your way to drive you up it. It’s fun to goad and mess with you, knowing you trust him a little too much for your own good.

His bandaged hand that Sakura had stabbed him in earlier this week would’ve been overly suspicious to you had he not been your boyfriend. When you remarked about how you’d just have to find whoever it was by looking at every hand in Makochi, all the while tracing his own where skin and bandage met, he thinks he sees something like brief unease cross your face before it smooths over into comfort from your current position once again.

You’re on his lap on the couch after all, one arm on your waist, and his good hand wrapped around your thigh as one of your favorite movies is playing. He would’ve preferred to put on a scary one so he could see a little bit of fear on the face he came to love so much. Picturing your hands squeezing at his arm looking for comfort as you cuddled close was tempting, but your nerves were already frayed enough by the murders plaguing your mind that he thought against it. Plenty of time and opportunities to see it.

When he starts palming the inside of your thigh, your back is practically melting into him. He relishes the little content sighs slipping out along with a small hum or two when he gently pinches the meat of your leg, noting how your opposite foot’s toes curl. He wonders if a little pain is the way to go with you.

Looking back on all the times you’ve gotten a little louder when he’s gripped your hips hard enough to bruise or when you moaned around him as he tugged firmly on your hair in his hands, the vibrations in your throat while his length is buried deep past your lips nearly made him keel over. He's almost certain you like it rough, actually.

Thoughts of you are a near constant to him, when he isn’t trying to get rid of the trash in town. Meanwhile, your own head is whirling, almost too distracted by his hands to follow the train of thought you were originally on.

You’ve been stopping and starting those thoughts again, the ones that get you in trouble causing the hair on your neck to stand up when you think about your boyfriend sometimes. When you get too close to the truth, he’s been opting for fucking those thoughts out of you. It only takes a second to see how the gears turn behind your eyes.

He wonders briefly if he can condition you into getting wet whenever you talk about ghostface with him. If he can have your thighs rubbing and chafing together while you’re trying to hide as he chases you...he snaps himself out of the daydream when you ask something, him not hearing a word of it, but he hums in response nonetheless.

For once, you’re a little irked at that, having been worried for Sakura’s safety the entire week. Although he was only knocked out, the man he was trying to protect was gutted! The sharp tone of his name that comes out of your mouth shocks you both, causing a brief period of silence to shift between you.

"Hajime! Are you listening?"

That's it; his breaking point shatters at the twist in his stomach when he hears you, not unlike a knife. Where did you go in the few minutes he was relishing in the feel of your body on his? He could’ve sworn you were behaving a second ago. The guy he killed was an asshole who hit his wife, the lovely woman who ran the bakery down the street. She’s much better off without him right? He even killed him in a way they’d never accuse her of, even if someone talked and told the police there was marital strife, as they always call it. They hadn't done a thing so far, so what's the problem? She was at her daughter’s house for the whole weekend when he died, and although she’s heartbroken now, Hajime’s sure she’ll perk right up in no time with enough support from everyone!

“Baby. Sweetheart. What you need to do now is relax,” he stresses, palming the front of your pajama shorts, massaging you until your head falls back onto his shoulder. That is not what you need to do, but you can't seem to bring yourself to move and stop him.

“Can my pretty girl take me now, or should I prep you some more?” He asks face fully showing his sick enjoyment over you being nearly ready to gush even after going on and on about his exploits, not that you can see the expression as you are now. The nickname has you stiffening for more reasons than one. The warmth from it flows straight down into your stomach where an inferno’s already been torching your brain into a haze, but a small nag in the back of your mind thinks the lilt in his voice is reminiscent of another you’ve heard recently on the phone with a stranger who called, asking what your favorite scary movie was.

 Before you can chase that thought further, you’re flipped on your stomach, face smushing into the couch as he apologizes for the roughness, though he thinks to himself that he’s not really sorry at all.

A small pluck of his fingers in your waistband, and he drags the fabric down until it reaches your ankles. You don't even register that he hasn't taken them off completely while he thumbs your ass cheek with one hand and the other goes to your lips, scissoring his fingers inside briefly before letting out a groan. You’re so wet for him already; must’ve been ready for a while you poor neglected thing. It makes him happy to feel how good he can make you despite all your pouting about killers.

He gives a quick push halfway in to let you feel the slight stretch of his cock as he watches himself slide into you.

“You’re always so good for me like this,” he sighs. Pulling out, he circles your hole with the tip, teasing you so he can watch the way your hips wiggle just a bit from neediness. Once he hears you whimper at him to please move, the sounding gunshot at the starting line, he’s fully sheathing himself inside, watching your arms go to wrap around the couch cushion as you muffle a cry. 

He takes it slow, with deep thrusts that have you moving against the fabric of the couch before realizing you’re jostling the side he shoved his mask and gloves into at the last minute when you let yourself into his apartment without texting him earlier. He can tell you’re only halfway to being dumb right now, and decides to pick up the pace, wrapping his hand around to toy with your throbbing clit. 

Just as he thinks he’s in the clear, he hears a small thud of his mask hitting the floor and he groans out loud. Of all times, just when your walls are starting to flutter so nice and tight. When you drag your heavy head up to see what fell, your eyes go wide, and he feels you clench on him. In fear, maybe, though he’s not quite sure. With all his ministrations during your talking sessions about the murders, he might've been a little successful at conditioning your body.

“Hajime, what is that-“ your panicked tone has him cursing.

Before you can think to say another word and ruin the nice pace he's been building up to, he pushes in far enough that he knows he’s flush against your cervix, but the high of getting caught and being inside you has fireworks bursting behind his eyes and in his brain. The adrenaline has him pumping into you at a depth and speed you're not used to, squealing into the cushion as slaps ring out in the room. 

“Guess you- hah - found out now huh? Can’t let you go now that you know...just wouldn’t work out, not that anyone would believe you,” he pants and knows there’ll be no response, not when he’s playing your body like a harp making sure to hit and touch all the places he knows you go stir crazy for. 

God, you wish you could focus, but the only thing you can really do is take what he’s giving you as the couch shudders and his one foot is posted on the floor for stability. You try to sound out a no to stop him, your hand going back to still him, but he grabs that arm and holds it behind you in a gentle death grip. It’s turned your body enough that the new angle exposes your face from the cushion, leaving all of your sounds to bleed out of your mouth and fill his ears with music.

Even when you finally hit your high, he doesn't stop fucking you through it despite you crying that it's enough. He stops for a second, and you almost think he’s being merciful before he maneuvers your limp body up back onto his lap, never letting himself slip out.

“Think I wanna try something new, baby,” he pants, smiling into your shoulder as you struggle against him. Those big, strong arms you loved so much are now a vice keeping you in place. He somehow managed to grab the mask before picking you up, and that’s when everything goes dark. Or at least for a moment, it does. The mask has been tugged on over your head, your heavy breathing making the inside feel wet and sticky. His voice is muffled, but you can still hear the words.

“Cum with that mask on so I can think of you every time my knife goes through someone’s chest sweetheart,” he growls and punctuates your pet name with another deep thrust before you can feel him spill into you as he continues stuffing it up into your womb. Your nails digging in his thighs only make him more riled up.

His hands are on your hips, lifting you on him only to slam you back down, and he knows this position would be driving you crazy even if it hadn't already been for the overstimulation. He wonders briefly just how long it’ll take to break you into accepting him before realizing it doesn’t matter. However long it takes, he’ll keep screwing you until you’re docile; he can’t lose you after all. It’d simply kill him.

 · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Hiragi’s livid to say the least. He’s yelling into the phone asking Ume how he could be stupid enough to get caught like that. Umemiya left you to yourself, cleaned and bundled in a blanket after rounds and rounds of sex had thoroughly turned your brain to mush on the carpet. The tears hadn't even dried on your cheeks yet from when he’d finished with you despite having kissed and licked them off with gusto earlier. At least you were sleeping now, cutely curled up in his bed wearing one of his shirts.

Or you were when he left you a few minutes ago, but the glint of his knife in his peripheral has him catching your hand before you can slice his neck, exhaustion clear on your face despite the fear and upset in your eyes too. He’s half hard again seeing your grip on the handle. Not a slasher yet, but he can tell you’ve got potential if he can push you in the right direction. He thinks he might have a chance at turning your noble little heart into something a little more twisted, a perfect match to his own. It’s all for the good of the town in the end, hopefully you can see that.

“Gonna have to call you back, Ragi. My girl’s feeling a little extra clingy right now.” He hangs up before Hiragi starts yelling again, deciding to deal with the problem in front of him before continuing his scolding.

“You’re holding it too tight, sweetness. You need to loosen your grip a bit,” he says, squeezing your wrist. Your gaze is settled on the carpet now, barely able to focus on the scratchiness of it on the soles of your feet. How you got here and what you were even supposed to do now are unclear. Killing Umemiya would stop the murders maybe, but given how Hiragi was on the line, he’s in on it. Two against one never really boded well, and even if you didn’t take that into account, did you even have the guts to go through with your original strike? Or did you know deep down he’d catch your hand and stop you?

Your head shoots up, nearly giving you whiplash when he places the knife’s point at his heart, and when you look at his face you see the boy you fell head over heels for, soft eyes looking at you with nothing but love and affection. The point digs in a bit, more due to his pressure on your wrist than your own, and you bite back a cry seeing blood well around the metal. He’s waiting for you to decide, and when the knife drops to the floor, he wraps you up in his arms, placing wet kisses on your face.

“Everything’s gonna be okay...we'll figure this out. It’s for your own good baby, I promise,” he coos before lifting you up and carrying you to bed. To his delight and your dread, he has you so tightly wound around his fingers, and you both know he won't be loosening the strings any time soon. He simply loves you too much.

When the town’s most famous couple goes missing, everyone mournfully assumes it’s the last nail in the coffin being buried as the serial killer wreaking havoc disappears leaving nothing but a trail of blood into the woods. 

 · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

dividers from here and here

[90smaximoff]

Three reasons.

g¡p!stepsister!wanda x fem!reader

summary: once you got a new stepsister who couldn’t keep her eyes out of you, you knew your life wouldn’t be the same.

words: 2k

warnings: smut (+18), g¡p wanda, stepcest, mentions of pervy behavior, masturbation, blowjob, dirty talk, degradation, cum eating, wanda being an asshole, yk, (also bad writing i wrote this in less than an hour) if you feel uncomfortable don’t read.

Since your dad married Wanda’s mother, a lot of things changed in your life. First, you had to move to your new stepmother’s house, your dad said that was bigger and that would be comfortable for all the family. Second, you got a new step sister, first, you were interested in her, living with another teenager made you anxious but you find out that most of the time was like Wanda wasn’t even there, she’s always in her own room, and months passed with just basic words being shared between you guys. 

But, soon, you started to think that your step sister was wanting to fuck you. Nothing that you’re disgusted by, after all, Wanda was hella hot and you two didn’t have the relationship of sisters. 

First, you noticed the way she stares at you. Her beautiful green eyes seemed to be wanting to devour you every time she was near you, always looking away when you catch her staring, in the living room, kitchen, or even some expensive restaurant that your dad takes the family, she always have an eye on you, not that you would do something about it.

Second, happened on a normal thursday, when your shower had broken for some plumbing issues and your step mother suggested to you take your shower in Wanda’s bathroom instead for a couple days, which none of you seen any problem. 

Everything would be very normal, if wasn’t for the fact that when you were leaving the bathroom, with nothing but your towel around your body and your wet hair, Wanda was waiting, really close to the door. You almost bumped into her, but noticed her taller body before, stopping and standing just a few inches away from her face. Wanda didn’t make a single movement to move away from you, actually, she didn’t seem bothered at your lack of distance.

“I know what you’re doing.” You whispered under your breath, in a tone that only she could hear. 

“Yeah? And you like it?” She gives you a smile that makes your knees buckle and for a second all you wanted was kiss her lips and take that cocky smile off her face. 

You didn’t respond after that, taking every strength in your body to get away from her and go to your room, not even looking back to see if she was looking at you. 

The third, and last reason you was sure Wanda wanted to fuck you, was when your friend was throwing a party. You dressed real nice, a little black dress that hugged your body beautifully and your make up made with perfection, you looked at the mirror and had sure you was looking good. 

When you enter the dinning room, just to tell your dad that you was leaving, he almost chocked with his food. The whole family was having dinner, including Wanda who had a similar reaction to the way you dressed. 

“You’re not going dressed like this!” He shouted and you roll your eyes. “At least put a jacket. And Wanda’s taking you.” Wanda’s eyes widened a bit, but she agreed promptly. 

You tried to argue, even knowing that was useless, your dad was protective over you and you knew it, so the best you could do was put a jacket and message your friend saying that your step sister was taking you and her ride was no longer needed, And that’s what you did.

Wanda opened the door of the car for you, but nothing between you both had been said until half of the way.

“You can leave the jacket in the car, if you want, i’m not telling your dad.” You looked at her and she seemed to be focused on the road, so you murmured a “thanks” and unbuttoned your jacket, putting it in the backseat. The rest of the road was a comfortable silence, even through both of you had a lot to say to each other. 

Wanda parked one street before your friend’s house, saying something about how probably there’s a lot of cars in front of the house already. The street was desert and dark and honestly you was kind afraid of leaving the car, but it would be only 2 minutes walking. 

“You know, you look pretty hot in that dress.” She commented, out of nowhere before you leave. 

You looked at her, chocked by what she just said.

“What’s wrong with you?” You asked in a harsh tone. Since what happened in the bathroom, you’ve been thinking a lot about her, how she almost don’t talk to you and still make sure to check you out every time she sees you.

“What?”

“You don’t even talk to me, Wanda! We’ve been living together for almost six months and i don’t even know you but you still act like you want to fuck me, checking me out all the time, waiting for me to leave the shower and now telling me that i look hot! What’s wrong with you?” This time, your tone was just honest, you keep your eyes on her all the time and she seemed to be surprised at your vent. Seconds passed and she didn’t say anything. “C’mon, just be honest, this don’t have to get weird.”

“You want me to be honest?” She finally speaks, giving you a cocky smile and making a nose crunch like she wanted to say something she couldn’t.

“Yes, please!”

“Okay, i’m gonna be honest! I want to fuck you, God, i want to fuck you so bad since the day i met you, but you’re my stepsister, this is wrong. Jerk off thinking about you, it’s wrong, stopping by your room door hoping to get a glimpse of you naked, it’s wrong, thinking about bending you over in ever surface of that damn kitchen every time i see you cooking, it’s wrong. Fuck it, it’s all wrong.” She says, letting out a loud sigh like she just takes a big weight off the shoulders.

It was your turn to be surprised, that was the first time you heard Wanda says more than two phrases for you and you surely wasn’t expecting that, all the thoughts of everything she just said running through your head. You would be lying if you said that you didn’t think about this or nothing of that turned you on.

“Yeah… this is wrong.” You looked into each other’s eyes and in the next second, you were kissing. 

You wasn’t even thinking straight, all you feel was Wanda’s soft lips guiding your in a desperate kiss, like she was waiting a long time for that, you put your hands on her face and she didn’t think twice on putting hers on your uncovered thighs. Even with that weird position in the car, that was one of the best kisses on your life.

The kiss became heated, Wanda slide her tongue in your mouth and gripped your thighs, making you almost let out a moan as you bring your hands to her bulge, feeling it get bigger at your touch and hearing Wanda let out a moan on your mouth, smiling, knowing what you was about to do.

When you feel that she was already completely hard, you opened her belt, breaking the kiss for a moment for her to lift up her hips and bring her pants down, with her underwear. Her cock was big, nothing scary, but pretty hard with a pink tip leaking precum, you almost lick your lip at the sight and quickly put your hand around the base. 

Wanda groaned at the contact of your small warm hand and sit back to her seat, putting one hand at your hair and caressing slightly. 

“I’m so hard for you.” She whispers, watching how you jerk her off, slowly bringing your hand up and down her cock, caressing the tip with your thumb before going down to her base again. 

“Yeah, your cock is so fucking big, can’t wait to have it inside me.” You says, jerking her off a little faster at each word, seeing her close her eyes and moan just at you talking dirty to her. 

You watched her carefully, her expression of pleasure would be on your mind all the time by now. 

Without thinking much, you lowered your body and put your mouth around her cock, feeling it heavy against your tongue, you couldn’t see Wanda from that position but for her moans and her hand at the back of your head holding your hair in a ponytail she definitely likes it as much as you. 

You hollowed your cheeks and swallowed her length, holding the base with your hand and stroking the rest that didn’t fit in your mouth, feeling her cock hit the back of your throat and reminding yourself to breathe through your nose, you bobbed your head up and down, in the same pace your hand was moments before. 

Wanda watched you mesmerized, your hot mouth on her cock was driving her insane and all the kinky nature of fuck her stepsister just makes it all hotter for her, she wanted to fuck your throat and cum all over your face but she didn’t know your limits, and honestly after fantasizing about you for so long wouldn’t take to much for her to reach her climax. 

“Fuck, that’s it, you like sucking your stepsister’s cock, don’t you? Fucking slut.” Her words made you feel the familiar discomfort between your legs, wanting to have some relief for yourself, but right now suck Wanda’s off was the only thing you wanted to do. Her cock feels heavy and hot on your mouth, her moans and groans was making you shiver and she was right; you liked suck your stepsister’s cock. 

You nodded the best you could with your mouth full and the discomfortable position on the seat.

Wanda didn’t take long to get closer, your tongue against her shaft and your hand stroking her cock was too intense for her, she starts to thrust into your mouth unconsciously, lifting her hips making her cock hit deeper in your throat.

“I’m gonna fucking cum and you will swallow all of it, don’t you, hm? Bet you want all of my cum, it’s that what you want? You want to be my cumslut?” Just a nod of your head and she explodes inside your mouth, painting your throat and mouth with white streaks, which you gladly swallow, savoring her taste and licking your lips at the end. 

You sit back at your seat again, giving Wanda a few kisses on her neck while she catches her breath and you slowly stopped your movements with your hand. 

“You taste so good.” You whispers against her neck, making her smile and caress your hair. 

When she stopped pant and you take your hand out of her cock, you waited for her to say something, anything, maybe just kiss you. But she did nothing. 

You were kinda disappointed by that, but didn’t say anything about, just got back to your position and pulled the mirror of the seat, checking yourself to make sure you wouldn’t got off of the car looking like you just sucked someone’s cock. 

The whole time, Wanda said nothing, all she did was look at you. 

When you’ve done and had sure you looked pretty even with your make up and hair a little messy, you looked at her again. 

“Don’t need to pick me up, Hailey’s giving me ride to home.” She nods her head and you got out of the car. 

Oh, how you wished she had said something, or even just kissed you. 

[spdraws]

All of my current Leverage and Leverage Redemption headcanons!!!!!

• Every night, Eliot checks that everyone is asleep in their beds, checks the locks on the doors, and makes sure the security system is working.

• It really freaked Breanna out the first time she saw Eliot severely injured. Hardison's stories made Eliot seem invincible. Eliot had to hug her and assure her that he was alright.

• Sophie hates Converse and Vans. Like she has some extreme beef with them.

• Breanna and Harry play Pokemon Go together often. Breanna is Team Instinct and Harry is Team Mystic and they fight over gyms all the time.

• Harry knows how to braid hair because when he was still married, his wife insisted that he should be able to do his daughter's hair.

• Eliot has an entire cupboard of drugs, mostly painkillers, ambiguously labled. He has received calls from every single girl on the team boiling down to, "Eliot, I'm on my period, and I can't figure out which of your stupid white bottles is ibuprofen." He's become quite used to it, and now keeps a special area of the cupboard for period stuff.

• Parker steals a stuffed toy whenever the con involves a store owned by an evil person. She's amassed quite a big collection, but bunny will always be her favorite.

• Hardison, with contributions from Parker and Eliot, now sends so much money to Nana that Nana was able to save up to buy a new house in a better neighborhood for all her foster kids.

Edit: she instead invests in supporting local community programs because people have enlightened me that nana wouod never move

• Harvey and Brenna text terribly made memes to each other all the time.

• Breanna's contacts are as follows:

Eliot: Wallmart Batman

Sophie: 👑SLAY QUEEN👑

Hardison: 👨🏿‍💻

Parker: 🐈‍⬛️Cat Burglar🐈‍⬛️

Harry: STUPID LITTLE LAWYER MAN

• Weekly movie night choices:

Sophie: Downtown Abby

Parker: Finding Nemo

Eliot: The Last Mohican/Rocky

Harry: The Spy Next Door

Breanna: Sonic (for the memes only)

• Eliot's room is the comfort room. Bad dream, feeling kinda sick, a recent con weighing heavily in mind, go to Eliot's room. He's almost never asleep, he knows more than anyone about first aid, and he gives the best hugs. He'll act all annoyed, but he'll always make the whumpee stay until they feel better.

• Everyone assumes Sophie can sew because she's the mom friend, but she has no clue. The team seamstress is actually Harry.

• Eliot keeps an ever-growing list of everyone's favorite foods. He keeps extra ingredients around, so he always has what he needs to whip something up if someone's having a bad day.

• Breanna can be extremely petty when she wants to be. She has been known to hack alexas to say creepy stuff out of nowhere and streetlights to turn each one red just to mess with people.

• Harry really loves dogs.

• Sophie once owned a turtle named Mistress Shellington that now belongs to her daughter.

• Harry's favorite color is yellow.

• Breanna forcing everyone to see the Barbie may not be the worst thing to ever happen to him, but Eliot ranks it pretty high on his list of life tragedies.

• Sophie has noticed that Eliot, when it comes to Parker and Breanna, will always grab them (hand, elbow, shoulder) when crossing the street. Nobody gives him any grief for it because they know he just wants to keep them safe.

• Breanna, from upstairs: ELIOT WHAT'S AN 8-TRACK TAPE?

Eliot: *deep sigh* I'm so old.

Harry: *chokes on drink*

• There are so many dents in the walls, and Sophie loves each one. Scrapes from Parker's grappling equipment, divots from Eliot's throwing knives, dents from Breanna's drones. It makes the HQ feel like home.

• Harry is an honorary girly. Girls' night is more like girls plus Harry night.

• Hardison has a note on his phone of things Breanna has said that make him feel old.

• Eliot has resigned himself to the fact that he will be Parker's and Breanna's personal jungle gym until his dying day. Parker pokes his bruises and climbs all over him, and uses his shoulder as a pillow. Breanna is almost the same. She punches and pokes him, just like Parker, and she often lays her head in his lap when watching tv.

Sophie has a picture on her desk of Breanna, asleep in Eliot's lap, and Parker, asleep against Eliot's shoulder. Eliot has one arm around Parker, the other caressing Breanna, tucking her fly away hair behind her ear. A calm smile is on his face. It's one of Sophie's favorite pictures.

• Eliot follows the sidewalk rule at all times.

• Eliot always sits facing the door. If the team is somewhere in public and one of the others takes the seat with the clearest view of the entrances and exits, he will make them switch seats with him so he can see the doors. It's a military habit.

• Parker hides chocolate in the vents so that nobody else can find it.

[gyusfavlibra]

MY BROTHERS PROTECTIVE BEST FRIEND

Johnny Suh x afab Reader! Ft. Brother!Mark

WARNINGS: +18, sex, smut, unprotected sex, language, fluff, maybe angst if you really consider. Fingering, grinding, sexual language!

Word count: +1k

Proofread: yes finally! Although I’m dyslexic so my grammar might suck🫣

…………………………………………………..……………………

“Mark! Give me my fucking earbuds!”

You throw down the large pillow you had just been holding from the queen sized bed inside your bedroom. You just got home from a long day of college. Ready to chill out, listen to music and finish up some school work. Considering it is a Friday and you wanted the weekend to yourself.

That is until you couldn’t find the one thing that would top that whole plan together. Your earbuds. You remember setting them on your desk right before you left for your final class of the day. Even remembered to charge them as well. But now they were gone.

And only one name came to mind. The identification of your younger brother. Mark.

You weren’t even 100% sure why Mark was at your apartment right now. You had come home and heard a game being blasted in the living room but never even agreed to him coming over.

But he’s your brother so of course, you let it be.

“Mark! Mark! My head phones please!”

You barge into the doorway, but pause when you notice another figure sitting on the sofa with your relative. A figure you are always suffocating yourself to see.

“Oh, Johnny. I didn’t know you were here.”

The brunette looks at you and smiles. “I just got here.”

You purses your lips. Trying so desperately to chase down the beating in your chest, your ears, even your fingers. Swallowing it, you turn back to your brother before you say something you regret. “Mark, my earbuds.”

“I’m busy, Y/n. Stop bothering me!”

“In my apartment?”

Johnny sighs out at his friends rude actions. Sweeping the box of cold Mc Donalds fries off the coffee table and throwing it into a bag. He knew better than any one that you hated people invading your space AND leaving it messy.

“Mark seriously. I have homework and I want my headphones. I don’t even know why you have them.”

“Sis, respectfully, please be quiet and leave me alone.”

The tone and words your brother sent your way not only triggered you, but his friend as well. Johnny hated when Mark was so difficult with you on situations like this. He had witnessed so many of these altercations and every single time, he was definitely on your side.

You can see the way it bothered the tall figure that man spreads at the other end of the sofa. Man you wished he’d stop wearing such sexy joggers when around you. But you got to push that aside for the time being. This is important. You huff a breath out with a pout. Eyes gazing to the other figure to plead cutely for some help.

Mark can never argue with him. “Johnnyyy.”

“Mark, c’mon man. Give her the earbuds.”

Johnny sticking up for you made your stomach do several flips. Which wasn’t that shocking because he’s done so many, many times before. But each time, it warmed your heart even more than the last.

When Mark stole one of your graphic t shirts. Specifically, one Johnny had given you. When Mark came over and took pillow cases for Halloween instead of using his own. Mark spilling orange juice on your kitchen floor and decide to wait until it was actually sticky to clean it up. There’s an on going cycle. Johnny’s been on your side for every single one.

Mark sighs out loudly, loud enough that you were sure Spain could hear it. His occupied hands now change course and pull the earphones from behind him. He slaps them into your own hand before looking at your eyes. His annoyances spoke loudly.

“Good, thanks. Now head out and get food for me. I’m starving.”

His jaw dropped.

“Why me?”

“Because I know if I go, you’re gonna make demands about getting something as if you’re actually paying.”

“True.”

You rip your card from your pocket and set it down on the table sat an inch below their knees. “Here’s my card. Get something for you and Johnny, too.”

“Thanks sis,” he chuckles. He pauses the game on the television. You weren’t even entirely sure what it was. Guns and animation was the farthest you’d get.

Mark turns to Johnny just as you exit the room, who was staring blankly at his phone. “You wanna come with? Or stay here?”

“I’ll stay here. I wanna try the level myself.”

“Well do you want anything?”

Johnny accepts that whatever Mark gets, he’ll enjoy too. Taking that as an answer, Mark nods and heads out of the apartment to a restaurant.

Johnny stands from the sofa after tossing the gaming controller off to the side. His brown orbs peek through the curtains to see if Mark had reached the car yet. Thank the heavens you were located on the second floor. The boy always could get to the parking lot fast enough.

Watching as Mark steps beside his vehicle to unlock the drivers door, Johnny takes that as a clear to go abbreviation.

Racing down the apartment hall, he finds himself standing in front of your bedroom door. You’re on the inside studying, laid out on your stomach with a textbook in your face, headphones playing in through your ears. Loud enough that you didn’t hear the double knock, nor the sound of the door opening.

Johnny creeps behind you. Shutting the door behind him in the process. You didn’t notice his presence at all. Considering you’re facing away from the door.

That is until you feel the end of the bed dip under your legs. Then a hand lands beside your elbow that dig into the mattress from holding you up. You pull off your headphones and place them in their case.

“I’m studying.”

“I know,” he replies. Moving his upper body down so that you could see his face. “Just wanted to see you.”

When he spoke like this, you had to give in. If it was any other words, you would’ve kicked him out to finish your work, but as of now, you just can’t.

You place your homework sheet into the textbook and push the whole thing aside. Turning onto our back, you can see his whole figure so clearly now.

His faint smile sits so beautifully on his face. Johnny tucks a strand of your locks off your eyebrow and behind your ear. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

His head dips down, soft pink tinted lips pecking on the corner of your mouth. It almost makes you scream that he didn’t hit your lips, until he does.

“You look so pretty today.”

“Really?”

“Of course. You always look so pretty,” he traces the outline of your jaw with his mouth. He props your knee to the side so he can have his lower body laying in between your legs rather than straddling you.

You thought it was just for him to get more comfortable, but it was really so he could connect his now covered bulge on the thin legging material that covers your heat.

The hand of his that laid in the bed now tugs on your waist. Pulling your bottom half to rub against his own. If you had on ANY other underwear, these actions probably wouldn’t have been so effective. But you in thin lace. And your leggings were a thin material so you can feel it all.

And with his sweats, this was just a perfect day for clothing choices.

The pulls were continuous. One pull of your hips after another. “J-Johnny, what about Mark?”

“What about him?”

“What if he comes back?”

“Then he comes back. I don’t care,” he shrugs, placing his lips on your neck. He leaves soft wet kisses rather than hickeys because he knew better. “Besides, have you even gone out to eat with your brother. He never knows what to get anyway. He stares at the menu for at least five minutes.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Mh, glad you realized. Now, let’s forget about him. Thinking about your brother is the last thing I wanna do when I’m trying to fuck his sister.”

His words spark something in this moment. You hadn’t seen or been with Johnny in at least two weeks. They’ve been finishing their sports season. So there was no hiding how horny you are right now because of the lack of touch.

Not blaming Johnny.

But now, it’s gonna be even harder to see him because of the fact that the season is over. Which means Mark will want Johnny all to himself.

So moments like this, you have to savor.

“Where’d you go?”

You didn’t realize the words were meant for you until everything, the kisses and grinding, had stopped. “What?”

“You zoned out.”

“Sorry- I was just thinking.”

“About me I hope.”

You smile. Of course he’d want that. “Well yes. And no. It’s just, I’ve missed you this week. And now that your sport is over, Marks gonna hog you all for himself.”

“I’ve missed you, too, baby. And I will make time for you. I promise. Mark doesn’t need me all the time. Don’t worry, okay?”

You nod. If Johnny makes a promise, he keeps it. So him promising to try to see you more is enough to set it aside and focus on the both of you and what you’re doing now.

You pull him down so your lips touch. His hand on your waist grips tightly on the skin that peeks from under the sweater. HIS sweater. The one you placed on yourself when you returned to your room because you knew the second Mark left for food, Johnny would be right at your door.

His ruts his hips deeply so that his heavy erection grazing so perfectly onto your aching core. His hand on your waist now pulls at the band on your pants. Pulling them down and off your legs. Leaving the underwear intact.

His eyes darken at the sight of the lace underwear HE had taken you to buy. The green sits perfectly against your skin.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy.”

“I want you, Johnny.”

“You have me, baby.”

You whine at the feeling of his finger rubbing your clit over the fabric. The underwear is definitely soaked but for some reason it feels better this way. Maybe it’s because it makes it harder for his finger to slip away or the material just feels perfect when being moved around. Who knows?

His lips mend with yours. The extra intimacy arouses you even more.

Johnny takes this occupied moment to pull his throbbing dick out his joggers and boxers. Replacing his finger motions on your heat with the tip.

He rubs it back and forth. Same motions he’d do if it was his fingers. You remove yourself from the kiss to watch. Johnny kisses the corner of your mouth again, then your cheek, then your temple, and then behind your ear before he whispers.

“Want it inside? Hm?”

Sucking your bottom lip into your mouth, you hum in response. He wasn’t gone force words out your mouth. Not when you’ve already expressed how badly you want him moments ago. Any other day he would, not today.

He pulls aside the wet lace, picking up some of your juices before slipping right inside. Not too fast. It has been a minute, so he allows the adjustment.

You moan into his shoulder just as he grunt into your ear.

“Fuck you always feel so good around me. You were made for me.”

If you had a dollar for how many times Johnny has told you that he loved when you were wrapped around him, you’d be in the Bahamas right now. But he just had to make sure you knew how much he enjoyed being intimate with you. Especially since the first time when you questioned whether he had other partners.

He didn’t.

But you don’t know any better at the time.

So he always made sure that you knew he loved being with you in every way possible.

“Fuck- I might just cum already.”

You hands grip the mid length locks on the back of his head. His face still being tucked next to your ear allows you the access to do so. You were so glad he was deciding to grow it out. Gave you more to hold onto.

His thrust into your pussy speeds up. Johnny holds back on cumming so you could get there first. To help, he puts his fingers back onto your clit. Circling them around just perfectly. Just how you loved it. “Fuck. Johnny, just like that.”

“Do it feel good? Hm baby?”

“Y-yes. God yes.”

“God, I wish I could fuck you like this everyday. Fucking shit!”

The constant clenching you were expressing around his cock made it harder for him to hold it in. So he rubs his fingers faster. Slamming his lips onto your mouth knowing that the extra feeling will help you get there.

You expose a string of moans. Each one getting louder than the other which informed him that you were peeking.

“Cum. Cum for me.”

And you do as told. Letting go right around his still fastening dick. He hardens his thrusts inside you and removes his fingers to hold your hips as he thanks the heavens that he can finally let go himself. His white cum shoots inside of you. Painting your insides so much, he’s so sure you emptied him out completely. Grunts echoe into your mouth. On and on until he stills and collapses on top of you. His face right back next to your ear.

“God, you’re so perfect.”

“You too,” you smile. You wrap your arms around him to hold his figure against you. Placing a kiss on his head.

You both stay like this until your phone dings. You pick up the device and notice a text message from Mark. You turn the phone and taps Johnny’s shoulder so he could see the message as well.

Mark

Traffics a little backed up

Mark

I got the food but it might be a little cold :(

“He really does take forever.”

“I told you,” he chuckles. Johnny kisses your cheek again and then your reddened lips. “Let’s clean up and watch a movie until he gets here. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

[allfortheslay25]

Neil Headcanons:

(I have more hc but these are just a few I’ve written down)

After Mary dies, Neil sleeps with a pillow against his back. He can’t sleep without it there

When Neil is scared, he doesn’t make a noise, just either flinches or internally breaks down because screaming from fear or nightmare or whatever draws attention while on the run

Neil can’t cook with flavor at all. He sucks at it

Neil is a really good driver in every way besides parking. He cannot park to save a life. Parking was not essential on the run when he was a getaway driver so he never learned to do it properly

Neil picks at the skin on his lips so they’re really dry and chapped and scarred

He’s a nail biter and sometimes bites his skin to the point it bleeds

He had very few freckles due to lack of sun while on the run, but he still had some speckled over his face until they were cut/burned off during Baltimore

Neil slowly pierces parts of his body over the years to reclaim his body

He also gets a few small tattoos

He never properly learns to fight. All the Foxes take turns/bet on who can teach Neil to fight. Matt teaches Neil to throw a punch and it’s the farthest anyone can get

He jump-ropes at the dorms sometimes if he’s antsy and can’t trust himself to go on a run

Neil sometimes hates showers and finds them to be a hassle. He’s not used to showering so much because he didn’t always have access to a shower while on the run

He actually looks nearly exactly like Mary and less like Nathan. Mary just projected her anger for her husband onto Neil since he’s their son and said it was because he looked like Nathan. Neil actually looks like 90% of Mary but has similar hair and eye color to Nathan

Neil likes skirts but does not prefer to wear them outside the comfort of his home. He is not used to doing things that make people stare

Neil has a habit of needing to do something with his mouth so he chews gum sometimes (Nicky buys packs of them for him after Neil’s pens exploded in his mouth for the fifth time in a single week)

Neil makes dry, out of pocket jokes about his trauma randomly throughout a day

His favorite fruit is actually bananas but his favorite berry are strawberries

Nathan is polish so Neil knew polish when he was 10 but Mary beat it out of him because she thought it made him sound like Nathan

After staying in Palmetto, Neil becomes a sleep kicker because his body and mind are slowly processing all the trauma he went through and it makes sleep just chaotic (a temporary REM sleep behavior disorder)

Neil can’t grow anything more than peach fuzz on his face because Nathan’s male family genes don’t grow facial hair

In Neil’s second year, the Foxes all share their own meal recipes so they can each teach Neil to cook something that actually tastes like food

Neil’s favorite color is gray but his favorite color (that’s not muted) is blue

The reason Neil is not good with his fists in a fight is because he’s got better control of his legs and should be fighting with those instead (Renee is the one to realize this but since none of the foxes know how to properly use their legs in a fight, Neil doesn’t learn much)

[skullwillow155]

Two years is a long time...

Other chapters: should be the right link:

Chapter 3

Hi. Here is another chapter. The next one might have some fluff and more relationship stuff. Hope it's OK. I might reedit at some point as I feel I might need to add a few things.

Just for reference Shika = Jeshika it's Just easy to write

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Sanji was grateful to finally see Shika; not just because it was her, but because he was also grateful to see an actual woman. The last few years had made him miss women; but most of all, he missed the touch and sight of women; more specifically, this one woman. His woman. Always his. As he remembered being on that godforsaken island, he clung to the smell and surroundings that he was currently. He couldn’t tell you how grateful he was to see all 3 ladies again, but the island did do one thing. It made him realise how much Shika meant to him. He knew they were something before they separated, but they were new and hadn’t put much thought into what they were. Over time, he came to realise he wanted; no needed more.

His thoughts kept coming back to that over the last few days, which prompted him to never leave her side, always within touching distance; almost always touching. Shika noticed the increased touching but didn’t say anything. She just enjoyed it for what it was almost afraid if she said anything it would stop. Sanji fawned over her, constantly making sure that she had everything she needed, even before she knew she needed it. Food parcels, clothes washed; anything. This made him happy, and it made her happy to be the centre of his attention. That’s all he needed for now.

Zoro was in a similar position; trying to sleep and drink and push away the feelings gnawing in his stomach; the more he felt the stirrings, the more he over drunk his Sake and slept. It was the only way to not think of her. Though sleep didn’t always stop that. He couldn’t say he hated it, but being as emotionally stunted as he was, he couldn’t place why. He just thought he hated seeing her with that stupid blonde haired moron but in reality, it was different. He couldn’t help but scowl every time Sanji touched Shika, and every time he saw he laugh at something. The feeling in his gut would not go away. It got to a point where Shika had noticed that she felt the swordsman’s eyes on her more than once.  Even Nami had felt the tension in the air, which made her curious.

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During the next few days, none of them had moved off the ship; only to restock a few supplies here and there. That was until Luffy started getting bored. Once the festivities and reunions had worn off, Luffy was itching for adventure. One morning, they had been woken up to Luffy shouting and throwing himself off the ship in glee. There had been rumblings of marines in the area, and that there was something going down in Sabaody, and of course, Luffy was the first to throw himself into it.

Shika was woken with Luffy shouting and the whole crew running to see what their captain was shouting about. But they didn’t have much time to discuss. She had walked out hair a mess and her sleeping clothes hanging half off her body. Both the men stared at her. Sanji’s heart beating out of his chest, hearts already in his eyes. Of course, he had been up for hours, but to see her like this made him want to take her in his arms. Instead, he pressed a kiss to her hand and handed her a bite to eat. Zoro’s eye’s narrowing at the sight, and a sudden urge fluttered in his heart. He had never seen her so beautiful… he immediately pushed that thought out of his head and was pulled out of any further thoughts by his Captain’s shouting. He guessed their quiet was over for now… though a part of him was happy to be distracted for a while.

Luffy was already off the ship, no one really having a clue what he was shouting about bit knew something was going down. They all quickly ran to get dressed and get things ready before splitting up. One group was trying to find Luffy. The other heading into town to find out what the marines were doing back in Sabaody.

Of course, Zoro got put with the idiot cook, Chopper, and Shika. Whilst Nami, Franky, Robin and Brook went off to follow there captain. He let out an almost audible frustrated growl and being stuck with the love sick fool but he felt a small happiness at being with the other two, though he put that down to being with Chopper and not being alone with the chef.

Once they were all ready, they took a stroll onto the island. Sanji grabbed Shika’s hand while Chopper sat a top of Zoro’s head. Zoro narrowed his eyes at the sight but quickly looked away. His hand tightened over his katana.

The next few hours were pretty uneventful, they had found out that Sentomaru was around but they had yet to find out where he was and currently they wanted to stay low and find out what was going on. Obviously, Luffy was doing his own thing, but the rest had finally agreed to find out more information; much to Zoro’s annoyance. He wanted to beat the crap out of Sentomaru, but he was out voted and out voiced by everyone else he had no choice but to agree.

Though Zoro couldn’t quite be that annoyed now, they were in the bar. A sake in his hand, and Shika sat up close to him in the booth, which felt like a dream. He could feel his heart increase, and his body grew warm. He shouldn’t be feeling like this; he thought to himself, trying to ignore Shika and the blond idiot; instead focusing on chopper; who was currently sitting on Shika’s lap. Chopper was animated and drinking his milk, making an adorable picture. As time went on, they started to discuss what to do in regard to the marines and especially Sentomaru. But Zoro’s thoughts kept being distracted by the heat radiating from Shika.

As Sanji went to grab some more drinks for them all Shika shuffled a little to look at Zoro, slight concern showing on her face. Zoro was quieter than usual, and that didn’t sit right with her. Not one bit. She didn’t want to make a fuss in the presence of chopper, but she found his hand and squeezed it, raising her eyebrow to see if he was alright. What she didn’t realise was that touch made Zoro tense; though he tried not to show it… all his thoughts zeroing in on her hand in his and the heat coming from it. He cleared his throat and took his hand away, going to pick up his sake, but he could still feel the heat like it was seared into his palm. “Am fine…” he spoke in monotone, trying so hard to stay stoic and calm. Just as he was about to say something else, Sanji came back over with the drinks, while placing them down his gaze, looking to Shika, not noticing the tension.

“You never guess what…” his voice cutting through the silence. “When I was at the bar… I heard someone say something about us… well, not us… someone pretending to be us. They said the Strawhat’s had already been in here, causing trouble. Luckily, they didn’t recognise us, but i do think we should maybe leave and find out who these imposters are.” All three listened to Sanji’s words. Zoro still slightly zoned out, focusing on his hand; that was until he felt himself being pulled out of the booth.

As they were about to leave, 3 people walked into the bar.

“Hey old man, get us a drink and maybe some food too.” A loud voice boomed through the bar and whispers picked up. “Is that… yes that must be… the Strawhat crew…” whispers picked up and the 3 men walked into view.

Fake Luffy, Zoro, Sanji.

Luckily, the other 4 were still hiding near the booth. Once they heard the whispers, they turned around to see who was the subject of those whispers, and Shika couldn’t help but let out a snort, half expecting Luffy to walk in, but no. These 3? These 3 looked terrible.

Zoro let out a laugh as the slightly blonde one called himself Sanji. Sanji just had a scowl on his face. “How in the world would anyone think that’s me.” He said with disbelief. Zoro laughed harder. He couldn’t help it. “I don’t know. I can see the resemblance cook. ” he felt Sanji glare at him but quickly turned his gaze to the imposter, sorrow plastered on his face as he felt disrespected. “Shut it, mosshead, yours ain’t much better,” he smirked back. Zoro was going to retort when he heard another gunshot.

Zoro stared at Sanji, not uttering a word. Instead, Sanji nodded and grabbed Shika’s and pulled her to get out of the bar; hoping Zoro would keep his cool this once. Luckily for him, he did. They knew they had to keep their heads down if the marines were looking for them, and a small part of them thought this could be a good distraction. Zoro grabbed Chopper, and they slinked out the bar as they heard a gunshot and someone fell to the floor. “I am captain Luffy,” the voice shouts… “I get what i want. ”… and with the commotion picking up, they managed to sneak out. Zoro’s free hand resting on the hilt of his sword just in case. However, they were soon to realise that this would not be the distraction they needed. In fact, these groups of idiots would create more problems than they would solve.

The guy that looked a lot like Fake Luffy decided to shoot another innocent bystander. As her friend protests, he is shot as well. There were whispers circulating and panic settling in. The Fake looking Luffy orders his crew to do something. The words are being lost in the commotion, but they are suddenly knocked down by the figure. Shika and Sanji didn’t realise that Zoro had moved. Already in front of the other man. His eyes glaring at the figures in front.

The guy who looks like fake Luffy starts getting in Zoro’s face and trying to threaten Zoro. Zoro just stares at them unbothered. The rest of Fake Luffy’s crew join in to try and intimidate Zoro, but Zoro continues to stare; his hand resting on the hilt of his katana. The only thought in Zoro’s head was him hoping Sanji had got Shika out of there, which, luckily for him, Sanji was also leading her out of the bar quietly. Sneaking through the commotion with every intention of going back in when Shika was out of the way.

The crowd in the bar were terrified, hoping they would go along with their wishes and threats. However, Zoro simply walks up to them and gets right in his face. Fake Usopp goes to shoot him, but Zoro manages to dodge the bullet and pushes his katana to Fake Luffy’s neck. Not before using his Haki on the Fake Straw Hats, causing them to faint, which astonishes the crowd. Once satisfied, he downed his drink and left to meet up with Shika, Sanji, and Chopper. He took one look behind him with a satisfied smirk and left.

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

“Too late stupid cook…” he smirked as he saw Sanji start to walk back. His thoughts were going to Chopper and Shika, hoping they were out of the way. Sanji scowled, but deep down, he was glad that the problem was over; for now.

“I think we should head back before we encounter more trouble…” Chopper said as he walked out of the alley that they had been put in. As they walked back, all was quiet until they heard a loud bang, and a flash of light came from the sky. Before they knew it, they were flung back and separated over the field. Chopper landing in the forest behind them.

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

 When Shika finally opened her eyes, she could feel a presence and a tension in the air. She tried to sit up; seeing all three of them spread out on the field. It took a few minutes to realise something was wrong. Until her eyes landed on what appeared to be Bartholomew Kuma and another guy in the background.

Her gaze was shifted to Zoro’s shouts of what the hell was that. Both Zoro and Sanji got to their feet slowly; Chopper was still out cold.

The air crackled with tension as Zoro and Sanji stood up and looked around, both realising the situation they were all in. Sentomaru and the Pacifista; or was it Kuma. They weren’t entirely sure, and they didn’t really care. Both of them took a quick look around to check where Shika and Chopper were. They couldn’t see Chopper, but they both relaxed a little when Shika moved a little. The relaxed state was quickly pushed away as  “Kuma” started walking towards them.

The two Straw Hat crew members stood back to back, their eyes locked on their opponents. “Get out of her Shika Chan,” Sanji shouted in all seriousness, “Go find Chopper,” Zoro also shouted. They couldn’t keep the worry out of their voices, but they both had no time for that.

Shika did what she was told. Her head throbbed a little as she felt blood running down the side of her face, but she slowly got up and crawled towards the forest, hoping that the other two were distracted enough.

Sanji and Zoro made quick work of the Pacifista, showing how much they had learnt in the 2 years away. They both kicked and sliced as though it was paper. Sentomaru was a little taken back at the difference from last time, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, choosing to glare at the two pirates in front of him with a steely gaze. Zoro and Sanji exchanged a quick glance, communicating silently with each other. When they weren’t bickering, they made a good team; not that either would admit to that, but they knew.

They turned to look at Sentomaru and knew that this would be a tougher fight, especially without the rest of the crew, but they were determined to give it their all. After all, they had Shika to protect; and Chopper. They weren’t going to be separated again. Not when they had just reunited. Zoro gripped his swords tightly while Sanji cracked his knuckles in anticipation and readying his foot for the upcoming fight.

As the battle began, the two Straw Hats launched themselves at Sentomaru with unparalleled skill and determination. Unfortunately for them. The group that had turned up earlier were also on their way towards the commotion, not one to forget.

Zoro took out his sword and put it in his mouth, readying to attack the men in front. He threw himself towards the group. Three swords sliced through the air with deadly precision, just barely missing the guy in front, while Sanji’s powerful kicks didn’t go unnoticed. The fake Strawhat’s fighting back with some intensity, but they were no match for Zoro and Sanji. The group was disposed of quickly as the clash of metal and the sound of grunts filled the air. Zoro and Sanji took care of the imposters and were not daring to stop and refused to back down until all of them were down. Both of their main thoughts were to protect Shika.

Unknowingly to them, Sentomaru had disappeared towards the forest in the commotion, looking for the other Strawhat’s. In that moment, there was a piercing scream which echoed through the forest.

In a flurry of confusion as Shika was still a little out of it. She hadn’t noticed she had company. She finally found where Chopper was and was gently picking him up. As she did so, she felt someone grab her arm. She tried to struggle but only had one arm and was feeling a little woozy. Sentomaru quickly grabbed Shika and dragged her away. This was one sure fire way to get Monkey D Luffy Sentomaru thought to himself.

Shika was already weak as the hit to her head was affecting her, unable to put up much of a fight. She did try to push him away, but her attempts were futile. She shouted for Sanji and Zoro. Her piercing screams fell in the air as Sentomaru hit her with such force she began to black out.

The last thing she saw was Sanji running towards her at full speed, Zoro not far behind, but they were stopped by another of Sentomaru’s Pacifistas, who stood in their way as she was whisked off, barely clinging to life. Of course, they both made quick work of the Pacifista, but by the time they were done, Sentomaru had taken Shika with them. Chopper falls from the sky as she lets go of her grip in unconsciousness. Zoro caught Chopper but felt at a loss at what to do. Both Sanji and Zoro’s hearts slowed. Not again, they thought as she was whisked away. Blood and sweat pooled on and around their heads as they stood there seeing Sentomaru disappear with her. Zoro snapped at Sanji, Sanji was a wreck, but they knew they had to pull it together. To see her again. This wasn’t how today was supposed to go. They had to get back to the Sunny. As much as Sanji wanted to run after you, he had to be the semi rational one. Sentomaru was no joke, and they both had to get help from the crew.

Zoro wanted to rush head first and chase after him, but deep down, he knew Sanji was right. Even if that did make him want to throw up at admitting that. Anything to keep her safe, he thought to herself. His heart beating at the thought of not seeing her again. They weren’t at 100%, and they couldn’t risk messing this up. They both took deep breaths, getting lost in their own thought’s.

Sanji picked up Chopper, trying to squash his thoughts. He had only just got her back. He didn’t know how he could cope with her gone so soon. He had tears down his cheeks, but he forced himself to drag his ass back to Luffy.

Both of them were in some agreement. If Sentomaru even touched a hair on Shika’s head, they would be the ones to kill him; no matter what; not Luffy… them.

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

When Shika barely gained consciousness, she felt her hands heavy and cuffed. The room she was in was dark and damp. She tried to take in any information she could but felt herself slip back into unconsciousness. All she thought of was Zoro and Sanji, as she closed her eyes again and heard Sentomaru laugh in the distance.

[slexenskee]

Nest (Oneshot)

Someone, at some point, somewhere in one of my inboxes, asked me something about Hawks's more bird-like traits. I wish I could remember... literally anything else about it so I could track it down and answer it properly, but I can't so here's Gojo being sick and Hawks building a nest about it

[link] (or read below)

Getting sick is a normal and uncommon fact of life— unless your name is Gojo Satoru.

This is his reasoning for how he idiotically misses the signs of his own incoming misery until it’s too late to avoid it. He’d had a sickly early childhood, mainly due to a premature birth and a finicky eating schedule, but by the time his Six Eyes and his memories had awakened he’d gotten through the worst of it. There was still the usual gamut of runny noses pervasive in the public school system, but eventually he’d learned to filter out the worst of the pathogens. Some common viruses, like the cold or the flu, changed too quickly each year for him to do it reliably, but as he got older he just learned to keep a healthy(ish) diet and a decent(ish) sleep schedule and avoid them. 

In hindsight, that it took him this long into his parenting adventures to finally catch something from Eri was actually rather impressive. Kids were the penultimate vector of diseases; sticky hands, constantly touching everything and everyone, and spending notable amounts of time around other small human-shaped vectors of diseases made catching an illness an inevitable outcome for any parent. As it turns out, Gojo Satoru and his invincible barrier was no exception.

Anyway, so finally getting sick wasn’t that surprising, even if he wasn’t thrilled with the experience. 

But Hawks’s reaction to it… well… okay maybe that shouldn’t have been surprising either, but it sure was a bewildering thing to wake up to.

He wakes from a groggy, disorienting sleep with a head that feels stuffed full of cotton (or maybe just congestion) and only a vague recollection of how he ended up back in his bed. He thinks he actually fell asleep on the couch with Eri on his chest, but at some point he remembers being carried off somewhere. 

Eri had gotten some kind of bad head cold from her daycare. Nothing life threatening, or even warranting a trip to the pediatrician, but painful to deal with nonetheless. He hates to see her so obviously unwell and unhappy, and especially hates how little he can do for her when she’s like this. He’d stayed up with her through her miserable coughing fits, gave her steam baths when he could, and made sure to keep her on a steady clip of simple foods and fluids. In the process, he’d slept poorly himself, and spent most of his time stressing out about her and forgetting to eat or drink fluids himself. 

At first, he just assumed his poor constitution could be blamed on a criminal lack of sleep. Then he tries to take a breath through his nose and ends up in a coughing fit instead, and realizes not only is he still sleep deprived, but now also sick. 

Gojo collapses back onto the bed, sighing as he resigns himself to a pretty unfortunate next few days. 

He rolls over onto his side, hoping to clear out his lungs that way, and ends up with a nose full of Eri’s hair and a cat yowling in protest. 

This isn’t particularly unusual. Eri still sleeps with him on occasion, and when she does she sometimes forgets to close the door behind her and the cat prowls in at some point and makes a nuisance of himself by curling up right where Gojo wants to put his legs. 

But when Gojo opens his eyes to swat the cat off the bed, he’s met with a peculiar sight. 

He blinks bleary eyes out at the scene, a bit bewildered, and wondering if his head cold is making him hallucinate. 

The bed is… full of junk. 

Well, not junk exactly, but a strange and random collection of various household items that, at first, make no sense to Gojo. Every throw pillow in the house seems to have made its way into a vague circle around the perimeter of the bed, and draped across them are all the spare sheets, random pillowcases, a few sweaters, a pair of fuzzy socks he thinks might belong to Yui, the throw blanket that lives on the couch downstairs, and even a few throw blankets he doesn’t even recognize. 

He reaches for the nearest one, a plaid thing he’s very certain he’s never seen before in his life. It’s silky soft, and also still has a tag on it. He rubs his fingers across the smooth fabric, then moves to the sweater that’s bunched up next to it. It’s also quite soft. Everything on the bed is soft, he realizes. It’s not just an arbitrary assortment of all the fabric items in the house— it’s an assortment of all the softest fabrics in the house, laid out in a conspicuously circular arrangement around him. 

Gojo’s not entirely certain, but he thinks this is supposed to be some kind of nest. And he appears to be in the center of it. 

For a long moment, head still fuzzy with sleep, he just stares out into it incredulously. Then he shrugs and grabs one of the random blankets and throws it over him and Eri, snuggles back up to her, and falls back asleep. 

//

Hawks returns to the room when the light is low, so quiet Gojo almost doesn’t stir even as the other man moves about the bed. He reaches out blindly in the direction of the noise, catching the Hawks’s sleeve. 

“Oh,” Hawks says softly. “You’re awake? How are you feeling?”

Gojo gives an unintelligible grunt in response. Hawks just chuckles, moving closer to push the hair off Gojo’s forehead. “Yeah, I figured as much. I’ve got water and medicine, if you’re up for it.”

Gojo eventually summons up the energy to open his eyes. At some point, Eri and Meow have disappeared, leaving him rather lonely in this crowded bed. 

He blinks up at Hawks. “... You made me a nest.”

He made a nest, and then put Eri, all the softest things in the house, and even the cat in it with him. If he wasn’t so out of it right now, he’d be dying from the adorableness of it all. 

Hawks looks a bit abashed as he looks down at his arms. Gojo realizes he’s got a collection of sheets and pillowcases in his arms that had formerly been strewn around the edges of his the bed. “Ah… yeah. Sorry about that— I kind of made a mess! I’ll clean it up and put these in the wash.” 

Gojo frowns up at him, blaming his wretched sinuses for the way it takes him so long to realize Hawks doesn’t just look bashful, but perhaps even a bit self-conscious. He tugs a little harder on the man’s sleeve, wishing he felt a little more coherent so he could properly explain himself. 

“Don’t clean it up,” he says, voice rough with sleep. “I like it.”

“Oh,” Hawks looks surprised, and a little pleased. “... You don’t mind?”

Gojo shakes his head, which from the way his head starts swimming in dizziness after, was probably not the best idea. He has to close his eyes to stave off the nausea, and Hawks immediately starts fussing over him and urging him to sit up and take his medicine. As he does that the hero walks over to the blinds and slides them shut, dousing the room in blissful darkness. He gives a sigh of relief; he’d forgotten how sensitive he gets to light when he’s sick. 

“Better?” Hawks asks. 

Gojo makes a noise of acknowledgement, setting down the empty glass as he smiles up at him. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Of course,” Hawks replies easily, returning to his side. He settles at the edge of the bed, careful not to dislodge all his hard work, gaze worried. “Do you need anything else?”

He’s about to say no, before he thinks better of it. He makes a show of looking around the bed. “You know, it’s a pretty nice nest,” he starts, slowly. “But I think it’s missing something.”

It’s cute how Hawks sits up at attention, suddenly very alert, looking both eager to please but also a bit offended. “Missing what?” 

Gojo grins at him. “You.”

Hawks rolls his eyes. “That was embarrassing for both of us,” he mutters, but nonetheless slides in next to him without protest. 

Yeah, his game’s usually better than that, but whatever, he’s sick and he still got what he wanted. 

Back to Masterposts

[vagueandominousvibes]

I came across one of those posts that's like "tell me in the tags the HCs for your blorbo's phone/car/device/etc" and started talking about the Knights' Lodge AU boys, only to realise it was getting so long I might as well make my own post about it.

Les aka. Blue

Blue's phone is one of those slabs that's only barely made the transition to touch screen. The screen itself is so cracked it would likely fall apart completely if it wasn't all held in place by a very dubious screen protector. Tiny shards occasionally fall off along the edge.

The brightness is turned down to 0, regardless of the actual brightness of his surroundings; he knows this phone so well he could use it blind. He's had it for years, and if anyone asks he'll shrug and say he's just not gotten around to getting a new one yet, but the truth is that it was a gift from his aunt. The background is of the two of them leaning against her motorcycle. He's in his teens and is wearing her patched leather jacket. They're eating ice cream and grinning from ear to ear.

His lock screen, however, is something really generic — like the most plain thing you can imagine. A solid colour maybe, or one of those stock photos of turquoise water washing up on a beach. His password has been the same 8-digit code since he was twelve. It's the day he came out to his aunt: he had a minor breakdown about it, and she took him out for really greasy fast-food; when they got back to hers, she put on this black-and-white version of Frankenstein that was so bad it was funny. Blue's aunt is long gone, but he still keeps a copy of that movie for when he's feeling rough.

Clancey aka. Red

Red gets a new phone every couple of years. It's not that he's careless with it — he really isn't — it just seems to be a magnet for accidents: it fell off the bathroom shelf, directly into the toilet, during an all-nighter in uni; it slipped out of his backpack when walking home from school once, and a bus drove over it; he accidentally dropped it on concrete and the screen shattered.

At this point it's a bit of a running joke in the family.

His current phone has a lovely maroon leather case with numerous little charms dangling from the top of the spine. Most are from various fan artists, though a couple are little pearl-chains his half-sisters made for him in pre-school. These two pearl-chains have moved from one phone to the next, and he's always made sure the case has somewhere to attach them.

Irvine aka. Green

On the outside, Green's may seem like a little bit of an Apple person. He didn't mean to become one, and he's got a proper gaming laptop, an Xbox, and a Switch, but his phone is an iPhone, he mostly uses a Mac, and he's got an iPad laying about somewhere. He's even got an Apple Watch.

In his twenty-some years of existence, he's never had to worry about being short of technological devices: Mr Irvine is very pleased to be able to provide his only child with the latest in technological development. All Green has to do is say the word, and it'll be his. Not that Green needs all of these things. He would much rather spend Christmas Day with his dad, instead of opening yet another thing alone in front of the white Christmas tree with glitter and fairy lights pre-installed.

The thing is, Green doesn't really know his dad — and Mr Irvine doesn't really know his son. Mr Irvine wants to make sure Green is provided for, and Green is grateful for the sentiment. He keeps every single thing his dad has ever given him, because he would feel exceedingly guilty throwing any of them away.

Which is why he's never going to tell his dad that his favourite device is a small grey-and-white mini-MP3 player from 2005, that runs on batteries, has no Bluetooth options, and stores some 150–200 songs.

Dunn aka. Shadow

Much like Blue, Shadow's phone is old and cracked. Unlike Blue, Shadow would love to get a new one, he just can't afford it. The SIM-card is one of those cheap top-up ones with ridiculously expensive data. He keeps it in his coat pocket for emergencies (and to take blurry photos of his and Vio's cat), but otherwise uses Vio's phone if he has to make a call.

Not that Shadow has a lot of calls to make, outside of the occasional GP appointment when necessary, or the optician every couple of years to get his eyes checked and get a fresh batch of contact lenses, but he generally prefers dropping by in person.

Does Shadow feel insecure about the state of his phone? He'll laugh the question off, but feel viscerally that yes, he really is. He keeps trying to save up, but for one reason or another he never gets there. Usually it's because of his mum — she barely recognises him these days, but he still likes to get her nice gifts, and if that comes at the cost of a new phone, what is there to do? He just wants her to be happy.

Cor aka. Vio

Vio accepted a long time ago that 'my phone' really meant 'our phone'. If he really wanted to, he could probably make up a reason as to why he would need his job to provide a work phone, but honestly, he spends more than enough time staring at screens as it is, and when he goes home he's off and doesn't want to be pestered with texts or emails that can wait till the morning.

So he has one phone, and he's perfectly happy to share it with Shadow. It's really quite enjoyable to curl up on the sofa with Shadow after dinner, to play yet another iteration of Scrabble, Word Search, or Sudoku together.

It must also be said that the background — their hands intertwined, silver rings glittering in candle light — still makes his insides flutter warmly, especially when he looks up and catches Shadow admiring the ring Vio had spent so long choosing.

[timedandtaled]

A Kiss With a Fist is Better Than None

isn’t that illadro stayne? i hear that they're the knave of hearts from alice in wonderland. i hear they’re thirty-five. they seem to be devoted & efficient, but also devious & gluttonous. their aesthetics include continued kneeling creating scuffs on the right knee of all clothing, food remnants hastily wiped from lips, all black with hints of red.

Name: Illadro Stayne

Other Aliases: Stayne // Knave

Face Claim: Jacob Scipio

Age: Thirty-Five

Height: 6'1

Sexuality: Homosexual

Gender & Pronouns: CIS Male & He/Him

Character: Knave of Hearts

Original Tale: Alice in Wonderland

Alignment: Lawful evil

Position: Versatile

Bio

Respect was not something easily earned when you were a Stayne. Illadro's family line had been servants for the Red Royals of Wonderland for as long as any of them could remember. Seen and not heard were the key requirement of the role, with the exception of saying "Yes, Your Majesty", but sometimes even being seen was too much. Illadro wasn't sure if he was the first Stayne to strive for more than simple servitude to whichever King reigned, but he craved respect from anyone that would give it.

Some would say he became angry at the system he was apart of, a teenaged rebellious streak developing swiftly. He'd sneak out from the chambers at night just for an excuse to get away, caught only once by a young Red Guard that eventually became something of a friend to Illadro. The Guard took Illadro under his wing, dressing him in Guard uniform to easier wander the castle, showing him the full layout of the castle, the areas servants were not permitted, including the secret rooms and passages, teaching him to fight and idly talking about the way the Guards worked. Illadro took it all in, learned every detail he could, and it served as a way for him to channel his frustrations. Over the years the two formed an incredibly strong bond, and Illadro could handle his own easily in a fight, something none of the other servants could.

Heading back to his chambers one day, Illadro passed the kitchens, a sweet smell catching his attention and drawing him in towards a plate of tarts made specifically at the King's request. He knew he shouldn't but he took one, knowing he'd likely never have the opportunity again, but overcome by the greatest tasting food he'd ever had. One simply wasn't enough, and the entire tray was soon empty. Of course, when the Red King found out, he was not pleased, and an investigation was launched, a crime so small and simple given the utmost importance. The beheadings were rampant, regardless of peoples guilt or innocence, and no one was safe: not servants nor guards nor court members. Even randomly selected subjects were thrown to the executioner, and the King vowed to continue until someone came forward.

Someone did, but not to confess, instead to throw Illadro to the lions.

He was dragged from the chambers to the King's throne room, but not without stealing a Guard's sword and putting up a fight. Sheer numbers stopped him from getting away but, pleased with the violent display, the Red King gave Illadro the chance to speak and defend himself. Knowing that, whether he pleaded guilty or innocent, he would inevitably lose his head, Illadro tried a different approach. He spun a tale, of how he'd stolen the tarts specifically to show the weak points in the King's system, how even the most trusted of his men couldn't actually be trusted, and how he could point out the exact person that made it all happen. And with that, it was his Guard's turn to be thrown to the lions.

For showing such loyalty and initiative to the Red King, Illadro was given a pardon from execution, but was still to face punishment, thrown into the dungeon with his fingers broken, sentenced to be released only once his hands healed. When they eventually did, Illadro was given a new role, becoming the King's Knave: a title befitting Illadro's beginnings but also highlighting his thieving nature. He'd take it willingly, happy that he was finally receiving respect, even if he'd had to steal and lit to get there. For now, the King gave him one job: break the weak links.

Illadro ruled the halls with absolute precision, all the secret areas he had learned about now destroyed or blocked off. Servants he had previously worked with now feared him, knowing one wrong move would put them on the chopping block. Where things could get lax, Illadro made sure they weren't. The King, pleased with his Knave, increased his duties, and allowed him out into Wonderland, tasking him with some of the more unsavoury challenges that required a more specific touch than simply sending in an army. Illandro did all of it with a nod of his head and a simple "Yes, Your Majesty."

Whatever the King asks, the Knave of Hearts fulfils it.

---

This version of the Knave takes inspiration from a few of the various version seen in other media. His stealing of the tarts follows his role in the original tale, but his role as the King's right hand follows more in line with the Tim Burton Alice in Wonderland movie.

[callsignspark]

Mar[r]y Me - part six

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)

summary: A love story told through friendship, laughter, and food.

series warnings: 18+ minors DNI, discussion of insecurities, difficult family relationships, discussions of food and alcohol use, discussions of body image, one (1) drunk asshole, conversations on what it’s like to be a fat woman trying to date in today’s society, warnings to be added as needed

word count: 5.9k

previous part | series masterlist | main masterlist

note: happy Friday!! it's August here in the real world but it's Valentine's Day in the Mar[r]y Me universe, so what will these two do surrounded by love and pink hearts? can't wait to hear everyone's thoughts!

part six - pancakes

God, I made a mistake.

Bradley has suffered through five days of the same thought on a constant loop. His brain started up the second he walked out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Only getting short reprieves when he had to fly. Even being asleep wasn’t safe; Mary had been consuming his nights, wonderful dreams of being with her intermixed with bad dreams of having to watch her with another man.

He felt like he was living one of those nightmares for the last three songs, watching Mary dance and giggle with some guy in his twenties.

I should be the one making her laugh. My hands should be on her hips, not his.

He cursed Natasha for dragging them to this stupid Valentine’s Day speed-dating event. Except, the speed dating isn’t actually speed dating; it’s some sort of convoluted speed dancing.

As announced by the host, there are only two rules:

Every person must wear the wristband they received upon entry; the wristbands correspond to your relationship status, so respect the color code system.

If you’re dancing, you have to dance with a new person for each song.

“Unless you’re really hitting it off with your dance partner.” DJ Socket had added with a wink before starting the night off with a horrible remixed version of My Funny Valentine.

Natasha, Callie, and Mary had laughed at the bad song choice before throwing back a shot of tequila and shimmying their way to the dance floor, pink wristbands glowing under the disco ball.

According to the event flyer that had been spammed in the group chat for the last two weeks, a pink wristband meant single and ready to mingle.

Bradley watches as the infant with a bad haircut tries to hit on Mary to what he thinks is a Justin Bieber song, absentmindedly playing with his own wristband. White. Here for fun, not to flirt.

He’s having a terrible time.

“Rooster. Rooster? Bradley!”

The use of his real name snaps him out of his thoughts. “Sorry, Bob, what was that?”

“I asked if you were okay. You don’t look great.”

He feels his heart clench a little bit. He’s always had a soft spot for the bespectacled man, Bob paying attention to small things that others rarely caught. Though even a blind person could see the way Bradley is staring at Mary, the pining radiating beyond the two high-top tables the Daggers had claimed as theirs.

“Yeah, just tired. It’s been a long week.”

Bob raises an eyebrow and opens his mouth, but Harvard interrupts him before he can investigate further.

“It’s weird seeing the girls in dresses instead of their coveralls.”

“I’m just wondering how they convinced Callie to wear heels. Omaha practically had to bribe her to wear something other than her Vans to our wedding.” Fritz says, his red wristband - taken and in love - flashing when he takes a sip of his bright pink drink. “God, these drink specials are awful! This is the last time Phoenix gets to choose where we go.”

The boys laugh as his face twists in disgust. Natasha is great at many things, choosing a good bar is not one of them.

“We should have let Jake plan; he found that complex with the mini golf and everything. That was so much fun!” Aaron adds before turning to Javy. “Where is Jake? I thought he was coming.”

Javy shrugs. “He was supposed to be here, but he texted me and said he wasn’t going to make it. Something came up, apparently. He said everything was fine, so I’ll check on him tomorrow. Make sure he’s all good.”

“Mary looks really good.”

Bradley stiffens, his mood dropping from happy back down to pissed off as steam pours out of his ears. She doesn’t just look good. She looks amazing. The light green, satiny material of her dress is hugging her figure just right, showing off her curves in the most delicious way. The slit up her leg showing off the thighs he dreams about getting his hands on again.

She looks gorgeous.

But Harvard doesn’t get to say that about his girl.

She’s not your girl. You fucked up.

“There she is! Can I get you a drink, ma’am?” Harvard stands up, holding his bar stool steady while Mary climbs on, scooting it in when she’s settled.

“If you’re going up, I’ll take a water, please.” She smiles at him, cheeks flushed from dancing.

“You want anything stronger to go with that water?”

“Vodka sprite, if it’s not too much of a bother.”

“You got it, sweetheart; anything for my new backseater!” Harvard flashes his toothpaste commercial-ready smile at her before making his way through the crowd to the bar. Him and his pink wristband quickly getting lost in the masses.

“I missed something. Backseater?” Javy asks.

Bradley watches her laugh and lean on the table, grabbing a chip after Aaron pushes the basket toward her. “He’s just trying to be funny. We’re both headed up to Lemoore next week - I’m helping out on some repairs, and he’s doing some sort of mentor program? I don’t know exactly. Anyway, Cyclone suggested we drive together since we’re staying at the same hotel. I told Brigham he’s driving since he insisted on getting this godawful 30-foot pickup truck, which makes me his temporary backseater.”

“Make sure you don’t eat anything before riding with him, or you’ll paint the windshield.” Omaha jokes.

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Please. If I didn’t hurl after a greenhorn took me up and executed one very poor barrel roll before getting himself grounded, I think I can handle Harvard’s driving.”

“You’ve flown?”

“Was it an FA-18?”

“How do you fuck up a barrel roll?”

“Did you like it?”

Questions are hurled at her from every direction, all the boys interested in the fact that their favorite mechanic had been airborne in the backseat of a fighter jet before they knew her.

“I did like it!”

Bradley’s heart warms a bit when she answers his question first.

“It was an FA-18, and I think we technically hit Mach-1, but my brain has burned the trauma of that hop from my memory. It was fun until that bad maneuver because when I say greenhorn, I mean green. Like as fresh as you can possibly be.” She shutters, only partially joking. “But I didn’t throw up, and that’s a major point of pride for me.”

“It’s only because you hadn’t eaten yet that day.”

The warmth disappears, again, when she smacks Brigham’s arm after he puts her drinks down. “I told you that in confidence! And I think it still counts because I’m a civilian and have done none of the training you guys do.”

“How did you even get permission to fly?” Javy questions, stealing a sip of her water, grinning at her when she glares.

“When I was in Florida, I got close with some of the higher-ups, and one of them arranged for me to go on a simple flight so I could see what it’s like. It was really sweet of him!”

“Who did you sweet talk into getting in a jet?”

“He sweet-talked me! Actually, it was more like he manipulated me. It came up that I’d never been on a flight - which is totally normal for an engineer, by the way - and he egged me on until I agreed to go up.”

“Oh my god, you got suckered into a ride with a flight school newbie? Who managed that?”

“I don’t know if you guys know him. I don’t think he was in Pensacola when you were going through flight school, but it was Admiral-”

“Hey, baby, wanna dance?”

Her face changes immediately, annoyance spreading quickly. “No. I’ve already told you I don’t. Leave me alone.”

“Oh, c’mon, you know you want this-”

“The lady told you no. I suggest you listen to her before we make you listen.” Omaha threatens from his position across the table. Bradley is happy that Neil spoke up before him because he wouldn’t have been so nice about it.

The pushy asshole looks around the table and decides not to press his luck after seeing eight men puffed up, ready to defend their friend.

“What a dick! He had a red wristband on, and he still tried to hit on you!”

“Welcome to being a woman, Mickey. Doesn’t matter if you’ve told them no or if they have a partner. Men will be gross and overbearing if they think it’ll benefit them.”

She sinks back in her chair, sipping her drink and sending a small smile to the boys in thanks. The group disburses a bit, most joining Nat and Callie on the dance floor, leaving Mary sitting with Fritz, Bradley, and Bob.

“Hey, speaking of gross and overbearing, did you hear the rumor that Admiral Cain is coming to the program review next week?”

It perks her back up; she excitedly leans forward, happy to talk about something else.

“Oh! That’s not a rumor, Fritz. That’s 100% true. He’ll be presenting his case for increasing unmanned drone research. But he’s going first on Tuesday, and then he’s back in Washington that same afternoon, so thankfully, we’ll only have to deal with him for a few hours.”

“Thank god, I had to deal with him for a little bit when I was at Norfolk, and he was worst. I know drones are getting more popular for high-risk missions, but they’ll never be able to fully replace pilots.” Billy clinks his bottle against Mary’s glass when she holds it up, swallowing the last of his beer. “You’ll have to excuse me; it looks like my husband wants me to dance with him.”

Bradley watches Mary stare longingly at the dance floor, her eyes following the happy couple dance in perfect sync with each other.

If you hadn’t messed up, that could be the two of you out there.

“So, what parts of program review do you have to sit in on?”

Mary turns, a soft smile on her face - Bradley knows her soft spot for Bob matches his own. Both of them protective over the younger man who cares so much, yet so quietly.

“I have to be there for almost all of it. I’m presenting a few sections, plus I have to do a shop tour and demo, which will be uber fun.” She rolls her eyes, knowing how some admirals like to knit-pick at how a shop is run and organized. “All my free time this week will be finishing my slides and polishing my presentation.”

“Wow, on top of helping with Lemoore’s repairs? You’re gonna be busy these next two weeks.”

“Very busy, but we’ve already done the repairs I’m helping with down here, so theirs should go much smoother! But I'm genuinely excited for program review because I’ll get to see some people I worked with in Florida! I think I’m going to try and poach a few of them that I really miss.”

“You’re gonna steal your friends to work for you?” Bradley regrets the question when he sees her face falter for a split second, realizing his tone wasn’t as joking as intended.

“Yeah, I’m thinking about it. They’re really smart and talented, plus it’d be nice to work with them again.”

The relief that breezes through his chest at her grin and kind tone quickly disappears when Harvard pops up and pulls her toward the dance floor.

“Hang- hang on!” She giggles, turning to Bob. “Would you mind keeping an eye on my purse while Brigham steps on my toes to bad 90s love songs?”

Bob’s, “No problem.” overpowers Harvard’s protests of, “I’m not gonna step on your foot again!”

She pecks his cheek, leaving a faint pink stain behind as she follows the Ohio man onto the dance floor. And for several songs, Bradley's stomach twists as he watches his two friends dance pressed close together.

“Why don’t you go dance with her?”

“She doesn’t want to dance with me.”

Bob scoffs. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Bradley, what happened with you two?”

He doesn’t answer; just keeps fiddling with the label on his beer and watching the dance floor. The two sit in uncomfortable silence for the first time in their friendship.

“I fucked up.” He confesses everything to Bob. The night on her couch, their interruption, the tiff just a few days ago. He doesn’t spare any detail, no feelings. “I still don’t know why I didn’t just let her explain! Even if I was mad that she was ignoring me, she had her reasons - she wouldn’t do something like that for no reason!”

Bob is stunned. He doesn’t know what to say to comfort his friend. None of the group’s theories had even been close to the reality of what happened.

“You can’t tell anyone what I just told you, not even Natasha!” Bradley is borderline frantic. “You’re the second person I’ve told, and I don’t know if Mary has told anyone, but I don’t want everyone knowing. I don’t want what happened to be the talk of the group.”

“I won’t tell anyone, Bradley. Not even Nat. But I do get bragging rights when the two of you finally get together.”

“That’s not gonna happen. I messed up too much, man.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

He looks where Bob is pointing, watching as Harvard twirls away with a pretty redhead, leaving Mary dancing by herself. They make eye contact, and he can see the gears in her brain working. She turns around, hips swinging hypnotically, and he loses his breath when she peeks over her shoulder at him. Bradley’s heart soars when she wiggles a finger at him.

She’s calling me over. Maybe I didn’t totally fuck this up.

His joy is short-lived. The same red wristband asshole as before getting in her space, trying to grab her ass as she pushes him away. Bradley practically falls out of his chair to get to her.

“Get away from me!” Mary pushes the stranger’s hands off and stumbles back from the force, colliding with Bradley’s chest as he comes to help.

He steps forward, angling his body to shield her as she tucks herself into his side. “She’s told you to leave her alone at least twice now. Walk away before we have a problem.”

The sleazy man rolls his eyes, “Whatever, man.”

“No, not “whatever,” man.” Bradley steps forward, disregarding Mary tugging on his arm. Her pleas for him to stop falling on deaf ears. “You’re going to apologize to her.”

“For what? The fat bitch probably liked it. She’s practically begging for it in that dress.”

Bradley doesn’t even think. He lunges, ignoring Mary’s yell for him to stop and taking the asshole down with one punch. He doesn’t get a second one, security interfering and escorting all three out.

The rest of the Daggers make their way outside, everyone awkwardly huddled together as Mary assures the bouncers that she is safe to leave with Bradley, that he’s her friend who was just protecting her from the other man’s unwanted advances.

She’s mad when she joins them. A quiet anger that's palpable, making them all stay quiet instead of joking around like usual.

“Thanks for planning this, Nat. It was really fun until about five minutes ago. I’ll text you about dinner.” She says to the girls, giving Bob a small smile when he hands over her clutch. “Bradley is going to drive me home, but you guys should keep having fun. Brigham, let me know when you want to leave tomorrow, and I’ll see the rest of you when I get back from Lemoore.”

Her clipped tone and her heels furiously clicking on the sidewalk are the only physical indicators of her anger. The group watches her go, stunned. In the year since they were introduced to Mary, it’s the only time they’ve seen her get close to losing her cool.

They had seen her defend herself against misogynistic pilots, making them feel foolish without even raising her voice. They watched her bite her tongue when admirals talked down to her because of her age, letting Mav or Cyclone handle it. In the past eleven months, they had witnessed her ability to handle difficult situations with poise and grace.

But tonight was too much.

After having to deal with yet another demeaning asshole and Bradley’s rash, unwanted heroics, the rage simmering below the surface of her skin was threatening to finally break through.

Bradley follows at a slower pace, keeping an eye on her but giving her space to breathe. He startles at someone grabbing his shoulder, turning with wide eyes to find Bob with a determined look on his face.

“Take her home and apologize; let her explain before you explain your side, okay?” Bradley nods, giving a small smile to his friend. “It’s all gonna be fine; you are made for each other. You can tell me all about how right I am tomorrow morning.”

He makes his way to the car, unlocking and opening the door for Mary, the tiny bit of hope from Bob’s pep talk disappearing when he realizes that she’s giving him the silent treatment. Climbing into the front seat and ignoring the hand he offers, closing the door herself and choosing to stare out the passenger window when Bradley sides into the Bronco.

The drive to her house is quiet; the only sound is the oldies station Bradley turns on in hopes of getting Mary to talk to him. The closer they get to their destination, the more he goes from sad to annoyed.

I was just trying to help. She doesn’t need to ignore me.

They’re both fuming by the time he pulls into the driveway. She slips out of the car, hoping he’ll just go home, but he’s following behind her to the house. One step over the threshold, and he can’t take it anymore.

“Are you gonna stop ignoring me, or should I just go home?”

He watches her shoulders stiffen and feels his stomach drop her eerily calm expression. “I don’t know. Are you actually going to listen to me? Or are you just going to tell me that we should just forget this happened, too?”

“Don’t put that on all on me! This isn’t all my fault! You ignored me for an entire month!”

“Yes! Yes, I did!” She slams her hand on her kitchen island. “And then, when I tried to explain, you didn’t let me say anything! You just said we should forget everything that happened and move on! So I tried to forget! I tried to respect your wishes! But tonight, all you could do was watch me dance with other men!”

His mouth drops open; he didn’t realize she had noticed.

“Yeah! I noticed - you pilots have all the subtly of an elephant in a firework shop with its tail on fire! It’s one or the other, Bradley! We either forget what happened and we see other people, or we talk about what happened and go from there! There’s no in-between option where you get to be upset whenever I flirt with a man that’s not you! So what’s it gonna be? Are we moving on, or are we having a conversation?”

He can’t get words to come out. He knows what he wants, but he can’t speak.

“Well, Bradley?”

Say something, dumbass! She’s not going to wait forever.

She scoffs, rubbing her hands over her face. “I’m going to shower. If you’re still here when I’m done, we’ll talk. If you’re gone, well, then I have my answer.”

He’s frozen in her dining room, wincing back to reality at her bedroom door slamming shut. His phone is ringing before he realizes what he’s doing.

“Rooster? Everything okay?”

“I think I fucked up.” He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up even further. “We fought, man. She noticed I was watching her tonight and yelled at me for not letting her talk last week.”

“Where are you? I’ll come get you.”

“I’m in her living room.”

“You’re still there? She didn’t kick you out?”

“She said if I’m still here when she’s done showering, we’ll talk about everything.”

“You’re a fucking idiot, Bradley.” Bob’s eye-roll is audible on the other end. “Sit down and wait for her to finish showering so you can talk. If she wanted you to leave, she would have no problem sending you packing.”

“You think?”

“She was two seconds from throwing a wrench at my head last week, and I’m her favorite.”

“Well, I don’t know about favor-”

“I am. Now, sit down, shut up, and wait for her.”

The line clicks, and he decides to listen to the advice, depositing his wallet and keys on her entryway table before sitting on her couch. Sinking into the middle cushion, he thinks about the last time he’d been on this piece of furniture.

“You’re so hard.” He’s not sure why she’s surprised. She has to know she’s had him on the verge of an erection since she opened her door this morning.

“You’ve been pressed against me for two hours in these tiny little shorts with no bra on, and you smell good.” He shrugs, feeling sheepish as he explains what got him going.

“Bradley..” The way she says his name borders on a moan, and he can’t help the noise he makes when she pulls his hair.

If she does that again, I’m going to cum.

He grabs her ass and pulls her as close as he can, brushing his other hand up her thigh and boldly dipping into the leg of her pajama shorts, enjoying the scalloped edge of her panties. Their lips brush, and he’s about to move his hand to the gusset of her underwear - he needs to know how wet she is for him - when they’re interrupted.

Between reliving that moment and crafting his apology, he doesn’t hear the shower turn off or her footsteps coming down the hall, only noticing her when she sits in the chair furthest from him.

“I’m sorry-” They start to apologize at the same time.

“I’d like to go first if you don’t mind?” She requests, taking a deep breath when he nods in agreement. “I want to start by apologizing for the last month. It was wrong of me to kick you out that night and then ignore you for a month, and I wish I hadn’t done it.”

“Why did you?”

“Because I got scared. That night… I never do things like that. I never make the first move or act that bold. So the fact that I just climbed on your lap like that - without thinking about it or second-guessing myself - freaked me out. By the time I got Annie back to sleep, I had completely psyched myself out, and I was convinced you didn’t actually want me.”

“That’s- I- did I give any indication that I didn’t want you?” He sputters the question, unsure how she could think that.

“It’s nothing you did, Bradley. It’s all on me, my insecurities. Men rarely - if ever - have had the same… enthusiasm that you did. You were great; this is a me problem.”

“I don’t understand.” He leans forward, wanting to get closer without crossing the boundary she set with her seat choice. “If everything was so great, what went wrong?”

“I’m fat, Bradley.”

He sits up straight, shocked at her words. What does that have to do with anything?

“I’m sorry, I still don’t get what the problem is.”

“I know you don’t understand what it’s like to be a woman, but please believe me when I tell you it’s hard. People are constantly policing and judging your body. Men will just tell you what they think of your body, what they think is wrong with it - unprovoked. And it’s even worse when you’re fat.” She leans back, hugging a pillow to her chest. “I know you didn’t do any of that. But I’ve been fat since I was a kid, so I’ve heard it all for years. And not just men, but from family too. It’s hard to shake those experiences, to ignore the insecurities and just enjoy the moment.”

They sit in silence for a minute, Mary refusing to make eye contact while Bradley tries to figure out his next move.

“Can I come over there?”

The question surprises her, but she nods. His choice to kneel in front of her is another surprise; he can tell from her eyebrows reaching her hairline.

“I’m gonna take this, okay?” He gently tugs the pillow from her hands, tossing it on the couch so there’s nothing between them. When Bradley sees her shirt, his breath hitches in his throat.

She’s wearing his sweatshirt.

“Sorry,” she says shyly, noticing his stare. “I’ve been wearing it to bed; I promise I’ll wash it.”

And as much as he wants to linger in the revelation that she’s been sleeping in his clothes, he pushes through.

“Mary, I’m going to be very honest with you because I need you to understand how much I wanted you that night. Sitting there with you in my lap? That’s the hardest I’ve ever been; I think about it all the time. How warm and soft you were.” He slips his hands into hers. “And I know what you look like. I like the way you look. I like everything about you. Everything. Even the things you don’t like about yourself. You’re so gorgeous.”

He wipes her cheek, brushing a tear away.

“This past month hasn’t changed how I feel about you. I still want you. I’ve never not wanted you. I’ve had a crush on you since the moment Danielle dragged you through the front door of the Hard Deck.”

“Bradley…”

“Not done, still my turn.” He leans up, getting closer to her to get his point across. “I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to fix this sooner. I was trying to give you the space you wanted, but that was a mistake. After the first week, I should have told you how I was feeling, what I wanted.”

“What do you want now?” Her voice is tiny, and his heart breaks at how uncertain she sounds.

“Still you, honey. I know I said we should forget what happened, but I don’t want to forget. I want to do that again without getting interrupted this time. I want to take you out on a date. I want you. If you’ll have me.”

He watches Mary wrestle with her thoughts, her mouth opening and closing, not sure how to say what she’s thinking. “Just tell me, Mary, whatever it is. I want you to be honest with me.”

“I want that too. I want you. But I’m not sure if I’m ready for it right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“How long have you been flirting with me?” She nudges him back, scooting forward in her chair so her knees brush his chest.

He doesn’t understand the question but answers anyway, wrapping his hands around her legs, stroking his thumbs over her soft skin. “Since that night we met, I didn’t do too good of a job since you spent the evening playing darts with Jake, but that’s how long.”

“That was last January. You’ve been flirting with me for an entire calendar year. And I’m so oblivious that I didn’t even realize you were interested until you were grabbing my ass and moaning against my mouth.” She rubs her face. “So I just need some time to process this because I never thought this - us -could be an option.”

“Okay, how much time are you thinking? How do you want to do this?”

“I don’t know… there’s no free time. I’m gone this week, and next week is program review and prepping you guys for deployment. Then you’re in the middle of the ocean for two months.”

“Doesn’t really leave a lot of time for us, does it?” He jokes, squeezing her calves. “We’ll be back the first week of May. There’ll be a few days of debriefing, but then I’m on leave. Why don’t we grab dinner that Sunday? It can be as friends or as something more, whatever you want - whatever you’re ready for at that point. How does that sound?”

“You’re okay with waiting that long?”

“Mariella, it’s been a year, and nothing has changed since I saw you in that red dress. A few extra weeks where we’re just friends? That’s nothing if it means you’re comfortable.”

“I’m sorry I’m so bad at this.”

“Stop it. This isn’t all on you; I haven’t been the best either.” Bradley’s voice is firm, making sure she’s not placing the entire blame on herself. “We’ll work on it. We’re smart people; we can figure it out.”

“Thank you for being so understanding. I really am sorry about how I acted.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

Feeling lighter than they have in weeks, they look at each other and laugh when Mary yawns, her face scrunching up.

“Okay, honey, I think it’s time to get you to bed.” He stands, pulling her into a hug. “I’ll call you when you’re at Lemoore, okay? We’ll talk about our days, and you can complain about Harvard.”

“Why would I complain about Brigham?” She blinks up at him, her eyebrows creasing after a second. “Wait! Are you saying goodbye? You can’t drive home right now; it’s too late!”

He tries to argue but is cut off by her finger pointing at the clock, the two hands telling him it’s almost three in the morning. “Shit, I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“C’mon.” She pulls on his hand, leading him down the hall.

“What are we doing?”

“Going to bed?” She squeaks when he abruptly stops, tugging her off balance.

“Mary, I’m sleeping on the couch.”

Her face is baffled. “Bradley, you’re too tall; it won’t be comfortable. We can share my bed; we’re adults. We can handle it.”

His heart thumps. He wants nothing more than to crawl into bed with her, but he’s afraid of how his body might react to being next to her all night.

“Mary, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You won’t. I also want you to be comfortable, so if you don’t want to share, I’ll take the couch, and you take my bed.”

“But-”

“This is the whole communication thing we just talked about. Believe me when I say that sharing my king-sized bed with you for one night won’t make me uncomfortable.”

Bradley stares into her eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation. “Okay, lead the way then, Vertucci.”

It’s awkward for a moment in her bedroom, the two of them trying to navigate this new situation together. But after some blushing and a few stuttered words, they figure it out. He’s just finished brushing his teeth when they discover that Bradley’s preferred side of the bed matches hers.

“Two peas in a pod.” He jokes as he starts to climb into bed, heart fluttering at the bashful smile on her face.

“What are you doing?”

He freezes, covers pulled back with his knee raised. “Uhhh… getting into bed?”

“Not like that, you’re not.” His wide eyes must give away his confusion and panic because she continues. “Bradley, you are not climbing into my bed, which has nice fresh sheets, with those clothes you wore to the club. God knows what’s on those chairs we sat on.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

“You are wearing underwear, right?” He nods, feeling baffled by how this night has progressed. “Then strip, you’re sleeping in your undies.”

Bradley stands there, looking at her snuggled under her quilt, bathed in the soft light of her nightstand lamp, and still wearing his name on her arm. Based on how serious she looks, he’s pretty sure she’s unaware of how flirty her words sound. If she was any other woman, he would make an effort to flirt back, try his best to be sexy as he undresses. Turn it into a striptease.

But it’s Mary, and they just got back to a good place.

So he undresses how he does when he’s alone. Unbuttoning his black shirt methodically, taking note of how her breath hitches when he pulls the tight material off, but not doing anything about it. If he has any control over their situation, there will be plenty of opportunities in the future to make her lose her breath.

He does allow himself to make eye contact while he undoes his jeans, unable to pass up the chance to watch her watch him. He sees her scan his body, can see the hunger in her eyes, can hear the small gulp when she sees the waistband of his underwear appear. He stays steady, folding the pants and draping them over his shirt before slipping under the covers, keeping a respectful distance between them.

“Gonna turn the light out?”

She blinks at him as she processes the question, her eyes hazy from the late hour, and he thinks about how he would love to have this view every night for the rest of his life. He watches as she rolls over, eyes slipping down to the skin that’s exposed when she leans to turn the lamp off. She ends up closer when she rolls back towards him; he can feel the heat of her body radiating towards him.

“What do you want for breakfast?” Mary’s voice is soft, like being too loud will ruin the small bubble they’ve created for themselves. “Do you like pancakes?”

The question makes him think of his mom, how she used to make pancakes on special occasions and sometimes just because it was Tuesday. He never makes them for himself.

“They’re my favorite. Do you make good pancakes?”

“I make the best pancakes.” He can’t see her face, but he can hear her smile. “Night, Bradley.”

He mummers good night back, enjoying the way the mattress moves as she gets comfortable. The scent of her shampoo drifts over him, resurrecting the question that he’d been asking himself for a month.

“Mary? Can I ask you a question?” His voice is quiet, scared to ruin things but needing to know the answer.

She hums, “What’s up?”

“That night. If we hadn’t gotten interrupted, what do you think would have happened?” It’s quiet. He can hear her hands playing with the edge of the sheet, fingers nervously folding and unfolding the cotton. “I’m sorry, you don’t have-”

“No, it’s okay, Bradley.” A hand brushes his chest, warm fingers ghosting over his skin in search of his hand. She continues once their fingers are intertwined. “If we hadn’t been interrupted, we would have had sex. We would’ve made out for a while, and then I would have ridden you right there on the chaise.”

“Fuck…”

She makes a small noise of agreement. “I don’t know about after, though, if we would have had a better go of things that we have. It might have been worse, I’m not sure.”

“Can’t change the past. I’m just glad we’re fixing things now.”

“Me too.” Mary presses a small kiss to the tip of his fingers, squeezing his hand before rolling over. “Good night, Bradley; sleep well.”

“Night, Mary.”

I think I’m falling in love with you.

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fic tag | credit for dividers here

[gutsandsweets]

Fictober day 5

Prompt #11; "Well, that worked out great"

Characters: Portgas D. Ace, mentions of Marco and the rest of the Whitebeard pirates

A pebble skipped across the water, staying up top for a few seconds before falling into the depths of the liquid. A few more followed, each varying in how far they went, but they all went further than most could throw them. That was asides from a few duds.

The boy threw a few pebbles up in the air before catching them back into his hand/palm. An exhausted sigh could be heard from the young man as he swung his foot back and forth- although it didn't move too far from its original position. Fish swam out of the way as the rocks were thrown into the water to avoid being hit .

The Moby dick, the Whitebeard pirates ship, had just recently docked on a small island to give the people on it a short break from treading along the ocean. It was pops idea of a small celebration for the win that one of their crewmates had had over a fierceful force of Marines.

Ace sat upon the ledge of a lake, staring into the water. His reflection stared back at him as he did so. Every move the man made was copied exactly by the blueish version of himself.

His eye brows furrowed , and he exaggerated a frown before continuing to look at his reflection to see the effects and how his face looked. He wrinkled his face a bit more, changing the form of his face again and again. Another rock hit the water, creating a tiny ripple. His shape warped and swirled with the water.

He really wanted to eat this piece of meat, but he was not going to go try to find thatch just to cook it. He had no clue whatsoever as to where everyone else could be since he went off on his own. Plus the fact that he was too lazy at the moment. He had attempted to join them in the populated part of the island, but to his dismay, there wasn't much to his interest. Just a few mediocre shops and barely any food good enough to appreciate.. Although ace would typically eat almost anything. The actual problem was that there wasn't any more after the celebration the islands people had just had. So he would settle for sitting near this quaint lake in the further side of the island from them.

Ace took the piece of meat into his hands, rotating and spinning it in his hands as he looked over it. It still looked fresh, he supposed. Hopefully it was still edible, because he really needed something to eat right in this moment. It should be simple enough to cook it on his own considering his devil fruit revolved around fire, right? All he had to do was hold it over his hand and it would cook soon enough..

Ace moved to only holding the stick with one hand. He moved it to where it would be a bit above the fire when he coerced it through his palms, forming flames and started to let them rise. He let his guard down partially as he focused on heating up the cold slab of meat, keeping his eyes squinted as his tongue poked out of his mouth to the side in an act of concentration.

He hasn't yet realized it, but one of the closest trees to him was very old and dying. The recent winds and precipitation hadn't helped, and the limbs had been cracking and slipping off.

As he sat near the pond and watched as the food he held had slowly gained a dark brown color, a decently small sized branch broke off. As it fell to the ground near ace, the crack and loud thump of it hitting the ground close to him caused him to lose control of the flames ingulfing his hands. They grew brighter and more dangerously wild, completely covering the piece of meat. His eyes widened as he tries desperately to slow the flow of his flames. It took a few seconds filled with panic, but eventually they came to a full stop. Ace turned the meat in his hands, inspecting what it looked like now/how it was.

Instead of a mouth-opening, drool inducing treat, a charred and ashy disaster was what he held.

Well shit. What was he supposed to do now? This was just great.

Maybe it was still redeemable? He was sure if he peeled off some of the burnt spots that it would taste alright, surely.

Surely enough, just as ace started to peel off the darkest parts of the skin, his ahdns slipped and cause the meat to fall out of them, hitting the ground near the edge of the lake. His eyes widened in shock and as he went to go reach for it before something else happened to it, the meat fell into the water of the lake.

Ace let out an annoyed sigh. He looked blankly down into the water, watching as it continued to sink to the bottom of the lake. Why did things like this *always* have to happen to him out of all people? The poor guy was just tired and hungry- but now there his food was, getting all soggy in the middle of the water. Not only had he just burnt it.. But now most likely made it completely inedible. His luck was just that bad, huh?

Aquatic creatures swam all around the meat bone, some trying to take a nibble out of it. Ace scooted closer to the edge of where he sat, angrily splashing the water with his hands or feet. The fish and such rushed to get away as they felt the disturbance to their home.

Starting to feel the affects of the water already, ace recoiled back and shook his hand to rid it of as much water as possible. It wasn't as bad as the sea or falling in it- no. More just like a faint tingly feeling that was still unpleasant.

He bring his foot up and planted it on the solid ground as he stood up. Using his hands to dust himself off, he looked around for anything to help try and retrieve his lost food. He thought about what could work. Glancing back down to the sunken meat, he squinted his eyes at it. It didn't look like it was too far down.. Thankfully is was just a small pond, so it wasn't very deep. The amount was more shallow, maybe a few inches or so, at most a foot and a half.

Plus there was a few things close to here that he could try. He tapped his fingers on his legs as he tried to figure out which would be the better ideas out of them. He could try to use some fallen tree limbs, use a cup or barrel since there were a few broken pieces nearby, use a fishing pole, continue trying to grab it with his bare hands,..

'Might as well just go adhead and try them all' he thought.

He started with a broken barrel he had found close to him, laying down on his stomach on the ground and scooting closer to the water. He bent over the ledge, sinking the wood into the pond. The second his hand begun to be submerged in the water, he retracted it and dropping the broken piece in the process. Touching the water wasn't a good solution at all, it seemed.. Oh well. That immediately ruled out one of his other ideas of grabbing it with only his hands. Sticks had no chance of working since they were all so fragile and soggy. The only idea he had left was a fishing pole. That didn't seem too promising, but it was the only shot he himself had as a devil fruit user..

A pile of supplies had coincidentally been left by someone in the end of the trees that led to the free area, one of which consisted of some dishing supplies as well. Forcing the container open to grab anything that could help. There were a few pouches of fishing bait, clean and polished hooks, line for repairs, but not much else. Picking up the fishing rod itself to inspect it closer revealed that it was in semi-decent condition. Although, the hook was starting to rust. Ace chose a new hook from the plastic box to attatch to the rod instead. This was supposed to retrieve his food, so it should be clean to ensure that he wouldn't get tetanus or something similar of the sorts if he ate the food.

He pushed on his legs to elevate/come to a stand again, clutching the rod in one hand and leaving his other to the side. He walked the distance between the water and forest again, leaning over the edge to check and make sure the food was still there.

Sure enough, it was right where he had left it. No fish or anything surrounded it surprisingly with how long he had left it alone. He adjusted the long pole in his hands, swinging it to get the hook closer to the target spot. It landed on the water, barely dipping in with a splat.

Well, that didn't work too well.

Maybe if he tried it again?

Ace reeling in the line with a sigh, hoping he could find a way to get this to work. He propelled it forward again, landing it around the same place. It went further down into the water, but still didn't reach the bottom. A loud groan could be heard from far in the forest as he repeated the action again. And again.. And once more.. Yet again.. ..

A few hours later, Marco found ace, who was still trying to find a way to get to his food in any way he could.

A/N: hello to any body reading this!! I'm so so sorry for all the last works, I've had most of them completed but my dumb self decided to fall asleep before I could finish the promote, so I'm a bit behind. I'm working it all rn!

[gaycrittercentral]

I’d like to know where the Maxlings came from

Oh hell yeah I’d love to tell!! ok so I had the concept planned as a comic initially but it really got away from me and got too long for me to actually make, so what I’ve got is sort of a script-lookin thing that I would have used as framework for it. I hope that’s an ok format?? I considered trying to write it into more of a prose/fic format but honestly I like it best like this. Ok enough rambling I hope it’s funny to y’all lmao (also it got. Um. Very long)

First scene is in the middle of a beautiful glade deep in the woods, where Sam and Max are dancing in a crowd of magical-looking fairies, grinning at each other. It’s late and there are fairy lights (teehee) illuminating the area, tables of food and drink scattered around the outskirts of the crowd.

S: wow, quite the day we’ve had, eh little pal?

M: you can say that again, Sam! I mean, how often do you get to save an ancient fairy commune by beating up their evil warlock oppressor?

S: and on top of that they throw this little shindig in our honor! I have to say, I never knew lutes could play such great club music.

M: and I’m living for these hors d’oeuvres! We simply must get the recipe.

Behind them, a pair of fairies in big leafy crowns talk quietly.

Fairy queen: these strangers are so delightfully mischievous.

Other fairy queen (they are lesbians): quite! Truly a pair of mortals after our own hearts. How should we reward them for defeating our fell foe?

FQ 1: hmm…I have an amusing idea. What’s better than two chaos-causing mortals?

FQ 2: ahhh, I see! A marvelous idea!

The queens approach Sam and Max, with several other smiling fairies clustered around.

FQ 2: well, my friends, it has been a true pleasure to have you! Before you depart, my queen and I have a gift for you as thanks for defeating the dreaded warlock Snivellion.

(M: tee hee)

FQ 1: here, please take these.

She hands Max a little package made of leaves and tied with twine.

FQ 1: these magical seeds will grow into a wonderful gift if you keep them warm and safe.

M: well, we don’t have the best record with houseplants…

S: but we’ll happily accept your gift anyway! I’m sure they’ll be fun for the few minutes they manage to survive in the harsh climate of our office.

M: if they live through the trip back in my pocket, that is.

FQ 2: oh, trust me, I’m sure they will be every bit as hardy as the two of you.

Max stuffs the leaf packet in his inventory and he and Sam take their leave, waving to the fairies as they go.

S: so long now! Have fun partying eternally!

M: you know, we never did get introduced—don’t suppose I could get your names?

FQ 1: hah, nice try. Fare thee well, mortals!

FQ 2: farewell!

As they go, we see a shot of Max’s inventory, with his gun and maybe a hammer or something to show that’s what it is. The leaf package sits quietly for a moment, before releasing a tiny sprout.

Several months later…

Sometime in the dead of night, they’re both sleeping until Max stirs and sits up with his ears all lopsided, looking kinda disgruntled and tired.

M: I’m gonna go take a dump

S, not quite asleep yet and regretting it: you don’t have to tell me every time. I actually think I’d rather if you didn’t.

M: but what if I fall in? I’d want you to know what I was doing! :D

S: *half-asleep grumbling*

Max wanders off to the bathroom to perch on the can and read a magazine.

M: oh, Martha, you get me. Mostly because we’ve both been to the slammer

Suddenly a baby wail echoes from the toilet (thank you, mammalian diving reflex) and Max immediately screams, flings his magazine to parts unknown and runs for the hills.

M: Sam!! SAM!!! The toilet screamed at me!!!! I think that ill-advised bathroom exorcism we did instead of cleaning the shower drain didn’t work, we must’ve summoned some kind of toilet ghost instead!!

S: what are you talking about, numbskull? You interrupted a perfectly good dream I was having about a discontinued ice cream bar :(

M: just come help me get rid of it! I can’t go with some spectral peeping Tom shrieking at me!

They get to the bathroom and Max hovers by the door as Sam inspects the toilet.

S: Max, you cotton-brained dolt, there’s no ghosts in—GREAT GALLOPING GEYSERS TAP DANCING ON SATURN’S FURTHEST MOON!

He immediately reaches in to save the weird little wet rat almost glaring accusingly at him from the bowl (it could glare a little better if its eyes were functional yet). Max cringes at him.

M: Jesus, Sam, I know we’re both nasty, but I thought we agreed to leave this level of grossness to me! Wait what the fuck is that thing.

S: well, if my outdated recollection of mammalian biology and your horrifying baby pictures is correct, then I’d say it kind of looks like a neonatal lagomorph. Did…did this come out of you?

M: oh please, I think I’d know if I had something like that stashed away somewhere in here. (Vaguely gestures to himself) Now could you get outta the way? If it was just some weird naked rat that crawled up the toilet to yell at me and not a ghost, then I’d like to finish my business in here.

Sam stares at the little rat-looking baby. It has teeth. Teeth like Max’s. He grabs a towel out of the bathroom closet instead and tosses it in the bathtub, then nabs Max by the scruff of his neck and deposits him on top of it.

S: why don’t you just wait down here for a minute while I get this little thing cleaned up?

M: Sam what the hell I don’t need to be housebroken!! Ugh fine but you’re cleaning the towel if—oh my god there’s another one.

S: SWEET SAINT OLGA OF KIEV SINGING OPERA FOR AN AUDIENCE OF PUPPETS WITH A TIN FOIL SUIT AND TIE AND A CREAMED CORN CROWN

Several escaped kits later…

Sam and Max lie together in bed with the kits on top of them, all wiggling around and squeaking faintly. Sam looks vaguely shaken by the experience, but Max just kinda looks like it’s totally normal.

M: haha I thought you guys were just weird little turds! Well, aren’t all children though, come to think of it

S: and you’re sure they came out of your inventory and not some hitherto unknown reproductive system of yours?

M: Sam, at this point I think I’d be able to tell if they’d been up my ass, don’t you?

S: well, sure, but also that’s not where—

M: and besides, my pocket snacks have been going missing all day and this totally explains it. Look, that one’s still got Cheeto dust all over her face!

Sam looks down at one of the girls, who is indeed very orange.

S: ooh. Let me just clean you up there, sweetheart.

He licks her clean gently. She squeaks in approval.

S: huh! What do you know, that really is Cheeto dust.

M: see, I told you so! I still have no idea how they could’ve gotten in there, though…I mean, they look brand new. And also a lot like us.

S: well, mostly like you.

M: nah, see, this one’s got little floppy ears! And lookit their tails, mine’s not long like that. Oh! And this one’s got your nose!! Oh, Sam, it’s so precious I could just squish her like an overripe tomato! …um, but I won’t, obviously.

S: personally, I find myself rather enamored with their tiny little toe beans. Just look at that! They’re so little…

They both giggle delightedly over the kits for a minute, before relaxing back into the pillows. It’s still the middle of the night and they’re both exhausted.

S: so…if we don’t know how they got there, and they don’t look like they could be anybody else’s…

M: 👀

S: I mean unless we want to take them to the vet to check for microchips or something…?

M: too late I’m already coming up with names and dreaming of all the bad words I’m gonna teach them

S: oh, good, so am I. I guess it doesn’t matter how they got there, then…but you really have to wonder…

Something like a half hour ago…

The kits are sitting in a little pile in the middle of Max’s inventory, the opened leaf package below them and Max’s gun leaning against the wall beside them (it’s bigger than they are). Lacey’s face is covered in Cheeto dust and there are a few remaining Cheeto crumbs scattered around them. They have a brief conversation of squeaks, translated into pictures.

Maisie: >:/ *exit sign, there isn’t an emoji for it but just draw one*❗️(she’s bored and she wants out)

Lacey and Crowbar: :o ???

Maisie starts crawling around determinedly until she comes across some kind of rift in reality, through which the toilet bowl is visible. But not to her, of course, because she can’t see just yet. She immediately plummets out of the rift with a tiny shriek, and her siblings react like :0 there’s silence for a second, before Crowbar squeaks and is translated to:

C: dare you to go after her

L: 👀

And that’s it!! Hdkhsshsg here’s hoping it’s at least a little amusing to y’all because it’s very funny to me for whatever reason hdjshsjhddhdjhfjd

Oh! And as a reward for sticking around here’s one of the other first drawings of them I ever did :’> they were very much inspired by @lillylunala’s drawings of Max as a baby if it isn’t obvious, which you should absolutely check out if you haven’t seen them bc my god she really nailed it heheheeee

[the-notso-simplelife]

It get's spicy - Teaser

We know you're looking for the spice. Here is a "best of" of the episodes you'll never get to see because some people might cry afterwards (it's us).

Harlow: [Giggling] Can you blame me? But I don’t have a history of falling for the wrong guy like you do! At least my type doesn’t come with a side of drama and a criminal record!

Haley: [Laughs] And speaking of bad decisions, let’s not even get into your habit of thinking every guy you meet is the one. I mean, you’re practically handing out hearts like it’s Halloween!

Harlow: Ohhh, we’re doing low blows, huh? Okay. Speaking of obsessions, do you even own a single pair of shoes without heels? Or are you just permanently on stilts trying to feel taller than your emotional baggage? Who are you trying to impress with those heels— Houdini again? Because, spoiler alert, he doesn’t care how tall you are when you’re laying down.

Haley: [Snickers] Oh, it was definitely a pit stop! I was just the “fun” girl he called when he needed a distraction. What can I say? I’m like a Starbucks—always there when someone needs a quick fix!

Harlow: Just remember, Haley, if you’re collecting bartenders, at least make sure they’re serving you love on the rocks and not just drama!

Haley [smiling] I think that’s what drew me to him. After being with someone like Houdini, who only saw me in one way, the casanova made me feel seen—like really seen. He accepted all of me, flaws and all. I never felt like I had to try to be anything other than who I was. And he… he healed me in ways I didn’t even know I needed healing.

Harlow: It’s wild how someone can be so intelligent but so emotionally detached. I mean, looking at *** day can’t make you good at real human connections, huh?

Haley: [laughs] Not worth the time or the eyeliner I wasted on him. Looking back, it was embarrassing. I mean, I could have been literally anywhere else doing something more productive, but instead, I was stuck with that guy thinking he was some kind of rockstar.

Harlow: But judgmental? Girl, you’ve got that title on lock. I’m surprised you even tolerate me with all that side-eye you throw at everyone else.

Haley: [Snickers] Oh, please! That was a hot mess of a relationship! It’s like I wanted to prove I could handle danger in my life. Newsflash: I couldn’t!

Harlow: [Mockingly] Ha! Not unless it’s on a “what not to date” list. But speaking of lists, I’m still waiting for yours, Haley! It should be called “How to Lose Friends nd Annoy People with Your High Standards!”

Haley: [groans] Oh god, let’s not pretend Houdini was anything more than a terrible decision. Honestly, I still cringe every time I think about it. He was like… the human equivalent of junk food. Fun for a minute, but I felt gross afterward.

Harlow: [pauses] I think I miss the idea of him sometimes, you know? But the actual guy? No. He wasn’t good for me. I’ve cut him off completely now.

Harlow [rolling her eyes] He couldn’t stand it. The moment Mr. What-if and I got together, Captain sidechick tried worming his way back into my life, acting like he wanted to be friends again. But it was all so manipulative. He made everything seem like it was my fault—our breakup, the way things fell apart. It hurt so much because I wasn’t over the pain he caused, and there he was, twisting the knife.

[princess-of-the-corner]

Toontown Rewritten Recap: January 2003 (Word of the Day)

Okay so, before I forget, I figured I’d mention this: With the exception of the post announcing the start of the Knock-Knock Joke contest, every single news blog post up to this point has been posted at 2:00 PM. Regardless, as 2014 began in the real world, Toontown Rewritten’s calendar was still in 2003.

January 1, 2003

Sir Max woke up to find that there was no update, as everyone had slept in too late.

He also noticed that the past three blog posts had all had “New Year” in the title, and thus got a word of the day calendar to try and avoid a repeat of that.

The word of the day was “Batrachomyomachy” (to make a mountain out of a mole hill). He hoped that the Toons wouldn’t have batrachomyomachy over the lack of an update, and then continued to try and work the word into as many sentences as possible for the rest of the blog post.

Sir Max is excited, however. As they’ve gotten more done in the past year than they have in the past five years of construction, he’s certain that everything will work out fine. ESPECIALLY with his word of the day calendar to keep things interesting!

The Toon Council President Election was coming, after all, AND they were planning on opening Toontown to the public that year as well!

Things were looking bright!

January 2, 2003

The word of the day was “floccinaucinihilipilification” (the action or habit of estimating something as worthless). Sir Max declared that no one would ever floccinaucinihilipilificate his posts ever again! (Also, that’s ACTUALLY part of Microsoft Word’s whitelist, unlike January 1st’s word of the day).

Also, Tammy the Tailor, a cream-colored rabbit, had decided to start selling clothing. As did the clothing shops in all of the other Playgrounds around town. As all of the Toons around town were stuck wearing the same clothes every day, this was met with much rejoicing.

Sir Max boasted that the Toons can drop by those shops for new habiliment, and then added that habiliment wasn’t even in the word of the day calendar.

The original plan for the clothing shops was for toons to have to complete Toon Tasks to get clothing tickets that they could redeem for new outfits, but one of the scientists at Loony Labs pointed out that toons would probably prefer to have the option of spending their own jellybeans. As such, clothing tickets will function more like coupons, while new outfits will instead cost 150 jellybeans.

And there was much rejoicing!

(Seriously, I don’t think anyone liked Toontown Online’s Clothing Ticket system. I think just about every server has made it possible to just buy clothes with jellybeans.)

January 3, 2003

It was Fat McStink’s birthday! Ever since the previous Wednesday, he’d been peeling apples and cutting apples for all of the apple pies he needed for his birthday.

If you’ll remember, however, Toontown had been trapped in a magically-enhanced winter, so the apples he had spent so much time preparing just turned sour. So all of his guests would have to share a single apple pie.

Thankfully, that wasn’t an issue, because nobody showed up to his birthday party!

Once he was done crying into his pie, he was able to finish it, but now he has a bunch of pies. He lacked both friends to share them with and enemies to throw them at.

So, he sadly wandered the streets of Toontown alone, until he bumped into Muddy Paws: someone whom had just recently joined the TTR Team. The two hit it off, and Muddy Paws was able to find a use for all the apple pies: building an Apple Launcher that alpha testers can download on the “Play” page of the website.

Don’t think about it too hard.

January 4, 2003

Sir Max announced that the TTR Team would be going for a soothing nature walk.

Hawkheart had gone up to the North Pole for Christmas, Too Many Secrets ate too much and had been in a food coma since New Years, and Shockley was busy assembling some kind of machine out of his Christmas gifts.

Point is, work was piling up, development was behind schedule, and they’d all hit a brick wall.

Thus, Sir Max decided the best thing they could do was to take a brief hiatus to go on a soothing, mind-clearing nature walk.

It might not have been the big Saturday update Toons were expecting, but even obsessive hobbyists need to take breaks every now and again.

January 11, 2003

Sir Max and friends just BARELY made it back to Toontown in one piece. They all had fun, by which Sir Max means they all nearly died several times, and his entire worldview has been forever altered by the things he has witnessed.

Basically, things were going well at first: Shockley only threatened to throw Too Many Secrets off a cliff twice, some nice, masked people took all their supplies, and then Sir Max fished up a Jellybean while trying to catch food.

Unfortunately, the Jellybean was actually a malevolent artifact forged by an eldritch evil, forcing  Sir Max and friends to go on a perilous journey to throw it into a volcano down the corridor from where they started. In order to ensure the Jellybean’s destruction, they needed to forge a Fellowship, or Friendship, of the Bean.

Goshi used the power of friendship and convenience store cosplay to become the Gandalf of the team.

Plus, the Toon TAGS that Loony Labs developed worked in conjunction with the portable hole system to allow them to teleport to each other. In Sir Max’s own words: “So yeah, the Jellybean might have been evil and driven us all against each other with greed and power, but we were driven against each other together. If that isn’t friendship, I don’t know what is.”

In the end, Sir Max and McQuack were able to destroy the Jellybean forever (after fighting their way past all the monsters guarding the volcano), and Goshi came in with a firehose to put out all the lava and let the duo escape safely.

They weren’t able to build anything while fighting for their lives against the forces of darkness, but they did bring back “tidings of Friendship”, which Loony Labs were MORE than happy to implement into the Toon TAGS system, allowing Toons to send friend requests to each other, in order to fill out their new Friends Lists!

Additionally, Toons could now teleport and whisper to their friends, regardless of location*. (Note: you can only teleport to a friend when they are in a location you have previously been to.) Additionally, you’ll receive whispers when friends are coming online or logging off.

Whispering was still SpeedChat only, though.

Additionally, the 50 friend cap from the Toontown Online days was removed, with the caveat being that a NEW limit would be placed upon the game entering beta.

January 12, 2003

Shockley had been gone for a while, and came back just in time for the nature walk, only to get separated from everyone before they encountered the Jellybean, so he had NO IDEA why everyone was just staring off into space (or what Sir Max’s Bean-related mumbling was all about).

Anyway, he explained that he was the city planner at the Toon Council meetings. He designed all the buildings and attractions in the town, based off of feedback from the toons, of course. He alluded to one Scientoon from Loony Labs having some PARTICULARLY good ideas, including one that’d be implemented in the then-near future.

Shockley recommended that everyone start filling out their friends lists, because they had quite the surprise planned…

January 13, 2003

Muddy Paws had fixed up the Apple Launcher so it could launch apples better. He used some new glue from Sticky Lou’s shop, plus sprayed it down thoroughly with bug spray from Fat McStink (apparently, the wood for the Apple Launcher came from the same woods where the Catching Game is played) in order to try and get all the bugs out of the launcher.

The Apple Launcher still couldn’t launch through Windows, but apparently they were experimenting with that.

January 14, 2003

Sir Max realized that he’d “lollygagged” (To move slowly, fall behind) on his word of the day calendar for the past 10 days, and thus has to make up for lost time.

In addition to the above word, he had to work in the words “Troglodyte”, “Anencephalous”, “Discombobulate”, Gobbledygook”, “Flibbertigibbet”, “Hemidemisemiquaver”, “Slangwhanger”, and “Pettifogger” (not to be confused with the Cog from Toontown: Corporate Clash. This predates THAT by roughly half a decade).

He also decides to burn the word of the day calendar, considering it more trouble than it’s worth (possibly due to the writer getting sick of the joke).

To see how he worked all those words into the blog post, click here.

-

THE FRIENDSHIP OF THE BEAN

[thesilentmedium]

Killer Kernels || Jonas & Paris

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Cornfield out in them there hills PARTIES: @thesilentmedium & @welcometoparis SUMMARY: Jonas is out trying to tether a Tatty Bogle when he runs into Paris, things don't go well for Jonas CONTENT: None

Jonas stood in the field, the smell of rotting crops clogging his nose despite the mask covering the lower half of his face. Crows were flying overhead as he knelt to take in the markings on the ground. Footprints that looked like bundles of straw had been pressed into the muck, were leading off in every direction. A small bundle of gifts was scattered across the site suggesting the farmers had tried to calm the Tatty Bogle that was infesting the corn field. Jonas frowned, looking around at the blackened corn around him, it was obvious the gifts had failed. He could understand that farmers were often the type of client to try and do things on their own for as long as possible before asking for help but he did wish they’d reached out sooner. From the looks of it this field wasn’t going to survive even if he got rid of the haunted scarecrow. Not that he could really, he was more another band aid to hold the spirit off until Lil could actually deal with it. Though that would require finding it first. 

A sigh slipped from him as he stood, in a normal field it wouldn’t be too hard to see it but given this one chose a corn field Jonas was in for a long day of searching. Not to mention he had to find a spot to make his chalk circle to even trap the specter in the first place. He supposed it would be alright to knock some of the corn down to draw it, the crop was already ruined as it was, but he still felt uncomfortable messing with what didn’t belong to him. No he would have to find a place already cleared by the tatty bogle to make his circle. Or that’s what he would have liked to do when the corn around him started to shuffle. If it weren’t for years of training Jonas would have tensed up on the spot, instead he quickly made for the other side of the circle, he wasn’t ready to face off with it yet. He scurried for the edge of the field not expecting to bump into someone, he froze before grabbing their hand, “We cannot stay here, it is not safe!”

—

Corn fields were something Paris had always heard about from tales of human farmers, but not so much something he’d ever experienced in person. And if he was going to be curious about all these things that were supposed to be mundane and simple to humans, then he needed to experience it for himself. That’s how he found himself walking through a field of corn with a look of wonder etched into his features. The crops started to smell foul the further in he walked, causing the lamia to cover his nose with his hand. 

He was being run into and then grabbed by someone, and Paris’s eyes went wide at the contact, instinct telling him to throw this smaller man off of him and run for it, but he was telling him it wasn’t safe, he was warning him of other danger. “It is corn,” Paris said simply, though the simplicity of the words was betrayed by the raw fear on his face. Paris was terrified of this man, of what he was saying they were in danger of, having half a mind to think it was Ryan coming to collect him at last, that he truly had been toying with his food before the kill. 

“Then we leave,” Paris decided after a moment of assessing the situation. Strange signs he would have to ask this man about later when they were in a safer environment. Paris turned around and began to take large strides to get out of there, grabbing the stranger’s hand and pulling him along with him.

__

“Oh um!” Jonas hadn’t been expecting to be dragged along when he grabbed the other’s hand; he just didn’t want the stranger to wander further into the field but he was hardly strong enough to resist. “I am sorry to um startle you.” He pulled the mask down from his face with his free hand now that they were away from the rot. “My name is Jonas, I um am here on a job to stop a ghost of sorts.” He was hoping that would put the other a little more at ease with the whole situation, he had seemed particularly spooked when Jonas mentioned the danger. He probably should have taken the time to explain it properly before moving, then again the tatty bogle probably wouldn’t have given him the chance. He nervously looked back into the corn trying to see if there was any more movement headed their way. “Blue, it may be best if you go find it.” 

The dog upon hearing her name pulled herself from Jonas’ shadow. She wagged her tail before disappearing into the corn. Jonas could see the taller man to the edge of the corn safely while his partner found the scarecrow. It would be easy enough for the dog to do so, she had stronger senses to rely on than a human. “You should be safe once we exit the field!” He smiled at the other hoping that would soothe the man’s nerves. Although seeing a dog pop out of someone’s shadow couldn’t be the most relaxing of things, Jonas hadn’t thought of that before sending his best friend off. He was so used to the people around him already knowing of Blue’s capabilities that meeting someone who didn’t seemed almost strange. Perhaps it was because he had lived in Wicked’s rest for so long that he no longer thought of how supernatural events may be odd to others. 

—

“Ghosts?” Paris found himself echoing with an incredulous gaze down at the other. “No, ghosts can’t be…” he trailed off, realizing that if he could exist, then so, too, could ghosts. “Never mind,” he muttered, dropping the man’s wrist like it had burned him. “This ghost haunts corn? What purpose does that serve?” He found himself asking, brows knitting together in confusion as he looked around. Every day, this town served to give him another thing to be confused about, something that kept him on his toes. The rumors from the other experiments had said as such, so he really couldn’t say that he was surprised. 

Paris’s gaze flickered to the dog that disappeared into the field at the stranger that called himself Jonas’s command. “My name is not important.” Paris decided, learning that the truth wasn’t always something that people needed to know. The truth drove people away, made them uncomfortable. Lying, lying had the power to keep himself safe, so that is what he decided he would do. Lie, and maybe one day he could let himself feel free. Lie, and maybe one day the lie that he was content with his situation would become the truth. 

“I’m to leave you to deal with the corn ghost by yourself?” Paris asked, incredulous. “That sounds foolish. What if something goes wrong?” Paris looked back to Jonas, gaze hardened and closed off. “But if you insist you can handle it.” Paris shrugged his shoulders and turned around, ready to start sifting through the fields of corn toward a freedom that didn’t have corn in it.

__

“Oh no it um haunts a scarecrow in the corn… I am not sure why.” Jonas had never really thought to stop and ask a tatty bogle for its reasons. They always tended to simply attack on sight whenever he was around, perhaps they knew what he was there to do. The spirits caught in circles definitely didn’t want to talk after he got them in there, he really couldn’t blame them at that point. To go from having the time of your life ruining crops to suddenly be stuck in one spot waiting for someone to come around to force you away couldn’t be great. However, it was Jonas’ job to keep the farmers the tatty bogle threatened safe, and he knew a dangerous spirit was no good for anyone including the specter. 

Jonas shifted his attention back to the stranger, “That is alright, if you do not wish to tell me.” They had met randomly in a field and Jonas had immediately started speaking of ghosts, that was never really a good start to making friends in his experience, besides it was more important the man keep a good distance from the danger than become his buddy. 

It was a lot easier to convince the other to leave than he thought it would have been, he paused though and reached for the other man’s hand for a second time during their short interaction. “I um am sorry, uh…” He held the hand lightly enough that the taller man could easily take it back if he wished as Jonas fished something out of one of the many bags on his belt. It was a small purple sachet that smelled of lavender and chamomile with the softest hint of vanilla. “This will um protect you from possession for a short time.” He had never heard of the spirits from a tatty bogle going on to possess a human but then again Jonas had never failed in getting one in a circle. He decided it was better to be safe than sorry. He wanted to also ask the stranger if they had happened to see any sort of flat area in the corn he could use to draw his soul trap, but he thought pressing the other man more than he already had would have been a bad idea. 

—

Watching the human who called himself Jonas, Paris felt a need to keep his cards close to his chest, no matter how friendly this human appeared. Even when Jonas said it was alright to not say anything to him, Paris only felt a need to hold those cards closer. Friendliness had been a lie before, what was to stop it from being a lie here?

He all but flinched as a hand was reaching out toward Paris, looking at the bag. “I will be fine,” he said stubbornly before turning on his heels to find a way out of the corn. He had to get away from this, it could be a way to be found out, a reason to be brought back. “I’m leaving now.” Paris called over his shoulder before finally moving to get out of the corn, but something felt off the further he walked. 

Why ghosts? Why here? Why in corn of all places? There were a lot of questions that this person could answer for him that Paris was shrugging off. Too nice, Paris reminded himself as he kept walking. Too nice, it could be a trap. 

__

Jonas opened his mouth to stop the man from walking off but decided against it. He didn’t want the sachet, pushing it on him wouldn’t change his mind. He placed the sachet back in his pouch, “Please be careful on your way out!” He called after the surly stranger before turning to head back into the corn. He still needed to find a place to make his circle, this whole thing would keep going till he did. Eventually his prayers were answered as he came across a part of the ground that hadn’t been planted yet, most likely due to the tatty bogle making it impossible. It was nice flat earth with no grass in sight, if he used his spray chalk the circle would be done in no time! Or so he thought as he reached for the canister normally attached to his side, he found the spot empty. 

The strap that normally held it was broken. Jonas could feel the panic start to swell in him as Blue howled, signaling she had found the tatty bogle. His partner sounded too close for comfort. He desperately searched around the clearing, but ultimately came to the realization that the paint must have been dropped sometime after he had met the stranger. Blue howled again, this time the sound coming practically from behind him. He turned to see the tatty bogle burst through the corn, button eyes locked on his figure, the straw arms carrying a rather rusty pitchfork. “O-” Before he could say anything the tatty bogle rushed for him, swinging its scythe. 

He gasped as two of the tines punctured his shoulder, likely missing his neck only thanks to Blue who had managed to grab the scarecrow’s arm in time. He couldn’t help the scream that left him as his partner pulled on the tatty’s arm, shifting the pitchfork up in the process. Jonas hugged his right arm to his stomach as his left hand did its best to try and push the tines out of his shoulder. There was more blood coming out than he would have liked to leave his body. “Please get out-” Another gasp as Blue finally tore the arm off the scarecrow, the pitchfork dropping and shifting once more. 

—

Thinking he finally got out of the situation, Paris let out a sigh of relief. That was, until, the man that he had run into let out a cry of pain. In a sudden bout of fight or flight, he didn’t even think, he just shifted into his monstrous reptilian form and darted for the thing that had attacked Jonas, tearing into the thing and ripping it to shreds without so much as a thought. Hay flew every which way. 

He saw nothing but red after he’d shredded the scarecrow to bits, breathing raggedly as he fought for control of himself. This was that same anger that had caused him to black out in a rage, hadn’t it? For so long he’d thought of himself as peaceful. But now after all this time? He wasn’t so sure if that person existed anymore. After so many years of being caged up like an animal, maybe that’s what he had become, maybe that’s all he was. 

“What do I do to get rid of this thing, will it come back?” The lamia asked, looking over to Jonas with wild eyes. Paris frowned, noticing how much blood Jonas was losing. He knew basic first aid. Sometimes the scientists would experiment on him and the other prisoners and wouldn’t care much for what would become of them, so the other captives taught him first aid so they could help each other when they needed it. He took a piece of fabric that he’d shredded from the scarecrow’s plaid shirt and wrapped it around the puncture wounds. 

He didn’t think that he’d shifted forms as he tied the fabric around his shoulder, sharp claws brushing against delicate flesh. “Oh, I…” Paris took a large step back away from Jonas, eyes wide with fear as he realized what he’d done. “I am… you were not meant to see this form.”

__

Jonas’ eyes widened as a large lizard came from seemingly nowhere and began destroying the tatty bogle. Blue also seemed shocked as she stood there, ears perked up and head tilted to the side before coming to her senses and moving to help Jonas get the pitchfork out of his shoulder. Jonas winced and grabbed at the ground as Blue did the best she could to pull it out gently, he kept his eyes on the creature as best he could through it all. By the time the tatty bogle was torn to bits and the pitchfork was completely dislodged, Jonas had started sweating from the exertion of it all. The hot weather wasn’t doing him any favors either. If he was alone he probably would have laid down to rest for a moment, not that that would have been a good idea given his current state. 

He was pressing his hand into the wound when the attack on the scarecrow seemed to come to an end. The large lizard spoke and Jonas for a moment thought the blood loss was getting to him more than it normally did. But as it began to waddle towards him, rags in paw, Jonas finally realized it was the stranger he had spoken to earlier. “Oh um… I need to um make a circle. To trap its soul.” He closed his eyes briefly at the pain when the bandages were wrapped tight around his wounds. “Th-I appreciate the help.” He was starting to get dizzy, then it was over and the other man seemed to be shocked that he had shown such a form to Jonas. 

“It is alright…I will not tell anyone.” Jonas offered as best of a smile as he could given his situation. “I um did you see,” He was finding it hard to really focus on words right now. “I need something to draw the circle with um uh it can even be a stick.” He wasn’t really explaining the whole situation clearly enough he knew but they only had a few minutes before the tatty bogle would reform itself or Jonas passed out. Either way the situation could get out of hand if they weren’t fast enough. 

—

Frowning as Jonas began to nod off from blood loss, Paris looked around for a stick, then quickly drew a circle around the two of them. “Will that work, or do you need to do it?” He asked, handing over the stick, though this man looked in no state to do it himself, probably couldn’t walk in a straight line, let alone spin in a circle. 

Paris put his hands on Jonas’s shoulders, frown deepening. “You’re hurt, is there anything I can do to ease the burden for you?” He asked, expression pinching together as he struggled to detach his worry for the man he didn’t know. He thought of all the experiments that he couldn’t save, that he’d watched die on metal tables. He was locked away because he was nothing more than another lab rat to play with. 

He blinked, letting himself get transported back to the present instead of stuck in a laboratory. “You are not fit to do much,” he then looked over to the dog, then back to Jonas. “Whatever you must do, do it before you pass out.” He decided, his form shifting back to that of a human, though his clothes were now in tatters from the shift. He didn’t seem to mind, however.

__

Jonas watched as the lizard stood and hastily drew a circle around them, for a moment his heart stopped thinking the stranger somehow knew how to make a soul tether and had just trapped the two of them in it before his senses caught up with him. “Oh um no it is more complicated.” He wasn’t sure how to explain it but gently took the stick from the other man. “You must not… not step in it no matter what.” Keeping his right arm close to his chest he stepped out of the tiny circle the stranger had made. 

“Oh um if you can please just-just keep me upright.” Jonas shuffled around choosing a clean spot not yet ruined by the fighting or Paris’ attempts to help and began the work of drawing the circle. He was a little woozy, always was when he got deprived of blood even when he donated to the clinic, now wasn’t so voluntary but the effects were much the same. Slowly he made the circle big enough for the scarecrow to be tossed in once it reformed, he was very careful to keep Paris and himself on the outside as he connected the intricate lines inside and wrote the Latin that would bring the spell together. 

These circles were probably the most dangerous thing Jonas could do, he was never particularly happy to have to use one given what it did to the soul. “Um I need to sit down now.” He said softly to Paris once it was all done and the circle was glowing a soft blue. His stomach was ready to empty and his consciousness was barely keeping it together. “When it gets up again we… It… throw it in the circle. Please be very careful not to step in it.” 

—

Brows furrowing as Paris kept his arms out ready to catch the shorter man, he knew it wasn’t enough as the stranger requested him to keep him upright. Hands gently steadied the other, a bit too close than needed, but in truth, he wasn't thinking much about social boundaries at that moment, something he was still struggling to grasp.

“So… ghosts,” Paris said, speaking the word into existence to make it feel more real. “They are real, and they can possess things as well as people.” He made sure his face was turned toward Jonas, having picked up that the other was deaf, or at the very least hard of hearing. He watched as Jonas moved to draw the circle, strange words written alongside them that caused it to glow blue, keeping his feet far away from the circle and stepping into the circle. 

“I will not step in it,” Paris agreed, keeping his hands on Jonas as he helped him down to the ground to sit. Without saying anything, Paris looked over to the wound, and tightened the cloth, hoping that it would help to slow the bleeding. “We need to get you somewhere.” He told the other, worry in his voice. “You cannot stay out in the middle of a cornfield to bleed to death.”

__

“They are real.” Jonas leaned on the other man as he was slowly lowered to the ground. His eyes were barely open at this point, hand weakly grasping onto the stranger’s arm. “I would um answer questions on them but I… am not um not in the best-” He waved his hand giving up on finishing that thought. He felt like napping, something he knew was very unwise. Instead he focused on the contact the other man was providing, doing his best to keep his eyes on the stranger’s lips. 

“Oh right um,” Jonas tugged his phone out of his pocket, it was a bit of a mess getting it unlocked with blood all over his hands but he managed and pulled up the last number in his phone, it happened to be Memphis. The message he sent was perhaps not the most coherent but it included his location and the important bits about being hurt, and not stepping in the glowing blue circle. “My friend will come get me.” He hoped at least, leaning forward and finally closing his eyes. “You are um a very kind person.” He mumbled out, if it weren’t for the fact the tatty bogle was still next to them he would have given in already. Though Blue was already posed to drag the thing into the circle, all she had to do was get the head in once it was done pulling itself back together. 

—

Feeling fear spike in his core, Paris watched as Jonas struggled to stay awake. They had to talk about something to keep him focused until this friend arrived. “Paris,” he finally said after a moment of silence, patting the man’s shoulder to get him to open his eyes. “My name is Paris.” He spoke again once Jonas’s eyes fluttered open. “I didn’t tell you before, and I apologize for my closed-off nature.” His eyes drifted downward, realizing he kept judging people he came across all wrong. 

“I am not kind, I’m terrified of everything. I…” he shut his mouth, realizing he was talking far too much. “I’ve had a hard past few years, that’s all.” He spoke, leaving it at that. Paris pressed a hand to Jonas’s shoulder, worried that he’d close his eyes again and slip away, never wake back up. “Please keep your eyes open for me, can you do that?” 

He was starting to panic, wracking his mind for ways to keep Jonas from falling asleep. “Tell me what to do, just don’t… don’t sleep.” Paris felt panic rising up his throat like acid, he couldn’t watch another person die and know there was nothing he could do to stop it. Except this time, he did. “How far away is your friend?” He asked, suddenly antsy for help to arrive. 

__

“Paris… that is a pretty name.” Jonas smiled again at the taller man, it faltered a little at his next words causing Jonas to shake his head which was a very bad idea at the moment. He closed his eyes once Paris was done talking, trying to get the feeling of the world spinning to stop. “A man afraid would have um left me.” He said softly, “You are very brave.” Not many people would have come back to help let alone tear a tatty bogle to pieces without hesitating. Though Jonas did feel horrible the other man had to help at all. Really he was beginning to feel more and more useless as time went on. Regan had to save him from worms and now Paris had to help him at his own job. At least the worms hadn’t stabbed him. 

Really Jonas was trying to look on the bright side of the whole situation. There were no woods involved, no one had kidnapped him, he wasn’t alone this time as he waited for help to arrive. There was no feeling of impending death right around the corner. The men were not there, he was not being forced to become someone’s bride and he would get to see his friend Memphis again, something that was always lovely. Though he wouldn’t be very helpful right now as a teacher, he had failed quite spectacularly at this job. Then again the tatty bogle was primed to be moved into the tether so maybe it wasn’t such a failure after all. He also got to learn Paris’ name. Quite the nice bonus given how he thought the man had left for good after he rejected the sachet, but here he was now keeping Jonas company, how could he say he wasn’t kind? 

Jonas failed to see the other man pleading with him to stay awake, he was all but gone at that point, slipping softly into slumber. His thoughts were surprisingly peaceful as his consciousness faded. He was thinking of what he had to pick up for dinner before there was nothing at all. Just the blissful blankness of sleep and the warmth of another body close to his.