#but they wanted to fuck the absolute weirdest looking guys ever

[saccharinecoffee]

remember when random posts got hijacked by superwholock fans with their incessant gif posting and theatrics? i miss them....

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic!Danny Phantom- pt. 8

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

If I had a nickel for every time I’ve been to the hospital in the past three years, I’d have enough money to buy a bag of skittles from Target. Most of it wasn’t for me though lol I’ll add this onto the list in a bit, but I tend to do that from my desktop but I’m still currently attached to an IV drip. I’ve also never been this hydrated in my life lmao

——

Danny poked a puffed up pufferfish. The poison floated through his ghost form and did nothing but give him a little zap. Danny chuckled, wiping away a bit of oil that had gotten onto the fish from a nearby oil spill. Jesus fuck. Danny knew that bald headed, easily drawn Vlad wannabe from across the river would do something terrible to Gotham’s waters (not that it needed help being atrocious to Danny’s clean water appreciation).

The puffer fish- Danny gave up on understanding Gotham’s water ecosystem, having realized that it was a cursed mix of saltwater and freshwater and swamp- gave a fearful little wiggle and Danny let it go, turning to the oil particles floating around.

Danny took out his phone.

“Danny? Why the hell are you calling at three in the morning?”

Danny raised a hand and blasted out some ice, gathering the oil up. “Hey Sam. If I got you into contact with Poison Ivy, do you think you could team up to get rid of Lex Luthor’s new holding company in Gotham?”

“Danny, are you asking me to commit an act of ecoterrorism?”

“That’s not even the weirdest thing I’ve ever asked you to do.” Danny placed a hand on the ice mass and flew it, the oil, and himself across the river to Metropolis.

“Deal.” Sam’s voice gets further away as she pulled her phone from her ear. “I’ll text Tucker, see if he could futz with Luthor’s taxes. I heard her doesn’t even give his workers a livable wage, and that’s so not gonna fly.”

“Perfect! Thanks! We could totally meet up and hang out with my new friends!”

“Hah! That Tim guy? The one that wanted you to introduce Phantom to him?”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, goth girl.”

“Sure, dork. I’ll swing by Friday?”

“Sure! Want me to pick you up?” Danny phased through Lex Luthor’s frankly ridiculous amounts of security measures, still completely invisible and towing a giant mass of oil covered ice.

“Cool. Now hang up. I actually need sleep.”

“Ah, you must be dead tired. I get it.”

Sam hung up, and a second later, Danny got a pic of her holding up a middle finger with her signature purple nail polish.

Danny stared down at the sleeping billionaire. Gross. He let his face re enter the visible spectrum and lowered the temperature of the room drastically. Luthor groaned, waking up as he shivered like a hyped up chihuahua.

Danny bared his teeth, glowing green skin reflecting the black holes of the universe and imploding stars and burning planets as he leaned towards the frozen two bit villain.

“RESPECT THE PLANET,” Danny snarled. He unmelted the invisible ice as he simultaneously made the oil visible, the entirety of the oil spill coating every single inch of Luthor’s penthouse bedroom. Danny winked out, but not before snapping a quick picture of Lex Luthor’s absolutely covered in his company’s oil spill.

If Danny had made sure that there were fish droppings mixed in with the oil… that was his own damn business.

——

Danny floated over to a brooding Batman.

“Do you have two hundred dollars on you?” Danny asked in lieu of a greeting.

Batman grunted a yes.

“Two hundred dollars for a photo of Lex Luthor being hit with karma.”

Batman instantly handed over the cash and received a printed out photo of Lex Luthor (in his Lexcorp pjs) covered by fossil fuel.

"Is this..."

"The oil from his oil spill? Yes."

Batman stared at the picture.

"Why was this more expensive than ID'ing corpses?"

"Cause it's funnier. And dead people deserve more consideration than a egg looking ass polluting everything he touches."

Superman zoomed into the space in front of them, face eager.

"I heard you had something about Luthor?"

Danny figured that Batman probably contacted the hero, and confidently said, "$200 for personal use, $300 for commercial use."

Superman quickly got together three hundred dollars in cash and quickly forked it over. Danny gave him another physical copy of the photo and a usb drive with the photo in a digital format.

"I am so pinning this up." Superman muttered.

"Get out of my city." Batman said flatly. Superman waved a hand, beamed at Danny, and left.

"Did you know Gotham's waters is a mixture of freshwater, swamp, and saltwater habitats?"

Batman grunted.

"Also, please stop stalking Danny Fenton. It's odd."

Batman swiveled his head over. "What."

Danny stared him down. "Stop. Stalking. Innocent. Bystanders. Or else I will recreate the phrase "drowned rat" with you as the subject."

Batman stilled.

"I don't kill, by the way. I can, however, dunk you in the sea and lift you up like a goth version of Simba."

Batman relaxed minutely. "I can't."

"And why not?"

Batman gave him a despairing look. "Have you met my children?"

"... Point."

[ham1lton]

RACEWAY RETAIL.

— welcome to RACEWAY RETAIL. the shopping centre that has over seventy different stores and the biggest food hall in the country! come take a pit stop and explore what we have to offer! take a coffee break in JAVA JUNKIE, get a bite to eat at SPICE N’ SIZZLE, pick out a new outfit at PEACH TREE or smell some floral arrangements at MAYBLOOM’s!

⇘ WALK AROUND THE STORES! ⇙

A SUB ABOVE LOVE. - oscar piastri x reader.

— enemies 2 lovers | smut | comedy | smau + written.

╰┈➤ ❝ oscar likes his job. it might just be making sandwiches with the world's worst playlist as a backing track, but it relaxes him. that is, until his boss makes him take the newbie under his wing, and you're the worst worker he has ever seen in the history of the store. how can you fuck up a sandwich? ❞

: ̗̀➛ snippet | full fic.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

THAT'S THAT ME, ESPRESSO! - charles leclerc x reader.

— slow burn | one sided pining | smut | comedy | oneshot.

╰┈➤ ❝ part time barista charles has never had a problem with the ladies, or even the guys. he's never had to try once in his entire life to get attention from the ones he wants but when the grumpy grad student doesn't even look in his direction, it sends his world into a tailspin. ❞

: ̗̀➛ snippet | full fic.

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ALL I WANT IS YOU. - lewis hamilton x reader.

— idiots in love I slow burn | pining | smut | comedy | oneshot.

╰┈➤ ❝ lewis has had his tattoo parlour for a few years now and it's been going strength to strength. the only thing missing from his life is someone to share it with, so his friends and family have been setting him up on blind dates despite his insistence that he's fine. he has his job, his dog and most importantly, you, the pretty bookworm who works in the florist across from him. what more could he need? ❞

: ̗̀➛ snippet | full fic.

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BIRDS OF A FEATHER. - george russell x reader.

— fake relationship | f2l | pining | smut | comedy | oneshot.

╰┈➤ ❝ george and you have always done everything together, starting from when you were born in the same hospital. he's your soulmate in all ways except romantic. that's until george needs a date for his ex-best friend's wedding and you volunteer your services. should've probably mentioned you've been in love with him for a while... right? ❞

: ̗̀➛ snippet | full fic.

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SUPERNATURAL. - carlos sainz jr x reader.

— pining | angst | smut l oneshot. -> by @23victoria

╰┈➤ ❝ carlos wants to follow his father's footsteps in owning the family's gym store chain but in order to do so, he'd have to work in one for a minimum of six months. that should be okay, right? until his client is you, a gorgeous taken mother who he absolutely cannot, under any circumstance, have a crush on. ❞

: ̗̀➛ snippet | full fic.

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HONEY, HONEY. - yuki tsunoda x reader.

— pining | fluff | hea l oneshot. -> by @minkyungseokie

╰┈➤ ❝ if there is anything you hate, it’s attending your parents’ fancy dinner parties, but after meeting the new chef, you think maybe they won’t be so bad. ❞

: ̗̀➛ full fic.

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BET ON IT. - lily muni he x alex albon x reader.

— pining | fluff | hea l oneshot. -> by @minkyungseokie

╰┈➤ ❝ the worst thing about a crush is when they’re taken. the weirdest thing about a crush is when his girlfriend starts flirting with you every morning when she gets her daily coffee. that’s … normal, right? ❞

: ̗̀➛ full fic.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

LOVE IN 3D. - logan sargeant x reader.

— dorks in love | fluff | comedy | smau + written. -> by @lokideservesahug

╰┈➤ ❝ you were never a massive cinephile but when the cute worker asked you if you’d like to buy a membership card, you didn’t hesitate in saying yes. now, you have to return at least twice a week, just to get your money’s worth. which has totally nothing to do with the hot blond working the slushy machine and the way his arms look in the branded uniform polo. ❞

: ̗̀➛ snippet | full fic.

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PRETTY IN PINK. - zhou guanyu x reader.

— pining | slow burn | fluff | oneshot. -> by @minkyungseokie

╰┈➤ ❝ zhou likes his little life. working in the boutique, seeing his friends every weekend and secretly sketching his own designs whenever possible. enter y/n l/n, fashionista and formula one driver, who discovers his designs and insists he create her met gala look. the opportunity of a lifetime alongside the girl of his dreams, too bad he can only choose one. ❞

: ̗̀➛ full fic.

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I SAW HER STANDING THERE. - daniel ricciardo x reader.

— romcom | slice of life | smau + written. -> by @onakomiyaki

╰┈➤ ❝ daniel never liked music that much, so when his older sister told him that he will be the next owner of the practically defunct family music store, he almost wanted to run away again. then he saw her, bright and as warm as the sun, and he thought, yeah he might give this a chance after all. ❞

: ̗̀➛ snippet | full fic.

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SUNDRESS! - lando norris x reader.

— fwb2l | comedy | smau + written | smut | opposites attract.

╰┈➤ ❝ lando norris, the other supervisor of spice n sizzle, is the bane of your existence. you’re total opposites. so you’d think as soon as you left work you’d be rid of him but the universe (aka your libido) has a twisted sense of humour. he’s your secret fuck buddy. trying to hide your relationship from everyone forces you into a realisation: not only do you not hate lando, but you might possibly even… like him? ❞

: ̗̀➛ snippet | full fic.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

SOMETHING JUST LIKE THIS - mick schumacher x reader.

— slow burn | romcom | fluff | pining. -> written by @papayadays

╰┈➤ ❝ mick has always loved books, and each day, there's nothing better than heading to the bookstore he works in and spending his days there. though no one there seems to have as much of an obsession. that is, until a university student looking for an obscure required book asks for his help, and he might have found a book buddy. ❞

: ̗̀➛ full fic.

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— THANK YOU for coming! leave a review if you enjoyed your visit!

[thehouseofurmotha]

Hi! I was wondering if you can please do katsuki bakugo dating fem!reader who’s quirk is like panty from panty and stocking but her personality is like super sweet but will get mean if need to (also if it’s not a problem can it be dating hc’s? 🫶

Hiya! Thank you for the request <3 I've never watched Panty and Stocking so everything is based on what I've read from google, so if anything is wrong feel free to correct me and I'll rewrite it! <3 (I am def gonna watch it soon though so I might as just redo it based on information I get from that)

• You and Bakugou were dating for 2 months, when you finally told him about what exactly your quirk is. It's safe to say you don't think you'll ever see him as flustered as he was. You thought it was very adorable though.

• You understand that certain details of your quirk can be embarrassing to other people. Though feeling embarrassed about your quirk is never a thought that's occurred to you. But after Midoriya passed out one time while he was asking questions about your quirk you figured it was better to keep to yourself.

• You and Bakugou had known each other from childhood, and had started dating 2 months before you started U.A.

• Bakugou is like 'wait how tf did you figure out what your quirk was.

• You explain to him that you have another form, and you turning into that when you were 6 is how you found out about that. But then you explain to him that you didn't know about your gun until you were 14, and you were trying to get changed and suddenly there was a gun in your hand. Was a very confusing moment for you 😭

• He thinks your quirk is cool asf though, and he's always pushing you to do your best in training. He'd never tell you about it but he really wants to see your other form.

• The first time he does it's safe to say bro was WHIPPED. He thought you looked like an absolute goddess.

• let's talk about the reasons he ended up seeing your other form though. Everyone in the class adored you, they thought you were the sweetest. Until someone pissed you off.

• During the attack on the USJ, you had ended up with Bakugou and Kirishima. Bakugou was just happy that you were with him so he could protect you. Bakugou knew you were strong, Kirishima on the other hands only saw what you did during the first training activity and the fitness test, which sadly didn't end up being much.

• Homie was like, "stay behind me y/n! I'll protect you. And you and Bakugou both look at him like 'bitch what?' Then you guys start getting attacked by villains so you get your weapon out, starting to shoot at the villains. And then you watch one of them get a nasty hit and Bakugou.

• You were pissed, and not about to let that shit slide. Then before you've realized it, you're in your other form. Which your parents lovingly adorned your Angel form. (Idk if I used that word right guys).

• Bakugou and Kirishima could not 🙅‍♀️ keep their eyes off of you, like you were so bright. Your boyfriend thought you looked like an absolute goddess and was absolutely going to tell you so after this.

• If the class (or specifically mineta) ever found out about the full truth of your quirk. He would yell at anyone who said any weird or rude comments about it.

Bonus:

(During the fitness test)

"Kats, real quick gimmie your underwear." You whisper at him, maybe a bit to loud cause u get some odd looks from your classmates.

"Y/n what the actual fuck."

"Don't be weird about it, it'll hopefully make the barrel of my baby big enough to launch the softball out of it." You give him a small smile, not really understanding that he's still embarrassed about it.

"You are the weirdest person ever." Yet he still obliges, and you were right which meant you at least didn't come in last place during the test.

Aizawa was a little concerned tho when you transformed them back and threw Bakugou's pair at him while none of your classmates were looking.

[ccscocoapuffs]

Can you NSFW alphabet for Tama tonga? but if you don't write about him, Could you do the alphabet thing for Jey Uso?

Note: Absolutely! Here's the Jey Uso one first, I actually already had this one started, after this is posted the Tama Tanga one will be up next :)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Possibly the sweetest guy you'll ever meet when it comes to aftercare. He will get up to grab a rag to clean you off with and then leave little kisses all over you, before pulling you into his chest for some of the best damn snuggles in the world.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Jey loves your thighs, he loves when you sit next to him and he is able to reach over and just grab a handful of them. Jey has a rather different favorite body part on himself. His personal favorite is his mouth, it allows him to kiss you, talk to you, and of course taste you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) He loves when he has you ass up and then right as youre about to cum he pulls out and finishes on your back. "What's the matter, babygirl? You wanna cum? here let me get a taste of you and see if i wanna let you cum yet, princess"

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Jey really doesn't have alot of secrets, though if anything that he keeps to himself it's his jealousy. He is secretly very jealous of Roman, He doesn't like it when you're in the bloodlines room with all of them and Roman starts talking to you with that smooth talk of his. He's worried that Roman would take you from him, all though every member of the bloodline knows that you'd never even look in the same direction of another man if it meant losing Jey.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) He knows exactly what he is doing and he will tell you and show you that he does. "Yeah that feel good? I know what i'm doing babygirl, i know exactly where to fuck you"

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) He loves simple doggystyle. When he fucks you in doggystyle he will pull your hair till you hit his chest, smack your ass till it's red, and of course bite down on your shoulder to hear your cry out for him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) He 100% can be goofy with you, I'm willing to bet atleast once that he has thrown you onto the bed and said "YEET!". On days when he just wants to be so sweet with you and make you life, he will do some of the weirdest and wildest shit just to see you smile and laugh.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Jey has thick black curly hair that he keeps tidy but not tamed completely if that makes sense. It goes up a little higher when he hasn't tidied it in a bit because he usually has a happy trail that he keeps waxed for work.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) He can be very romantic, not just in the bedroom but in general. Jey is the type to just randomly have flowers for you and after his matches you're the first one that he goes to find win or lose, he just wants to find you and kiss you. Alot of that romantic aspect carries into the bedroom though I do feel as though Jey leans more to the very soft dom side because of this, if that makes sense.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Jey hardly ever maturbates, I just don't see him as really being the type. However if he's been away for a big event like wrestlemania or for something like summerslam, then he would probably call you on facetime if you didn't get to come with him for a little bit of over the phone mutual masturbation.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Slight Spanking Praise (He likes to give it) Slight choking marking (Adores hickeys and adores when you claw his back)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) He loves having sex in a bed, call him traditional or vanilla if you want, but to him nothing compares to being able to take his time with you, spread you out for him, and then hold you till you both fall asleep

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Something that turns jey on the most is when you make the night special for him. Wear some lingerie, play some music, maybe even get some champagne or his favorite whiskey. He loves being able to make everything special for you, if you were to switch the roles and surprise him, it would be the ultimate turn on for him and may even make him blush. Though he would never admit to that.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Anal, it's just not something he is into. Another no for him would probably be weapon play such as knife kink, once again it's not something he is into, though this one comes from a place of not wanting to bring something that could hurt you into the bedroom.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Pussy eating KING, he loves making you squirt when he eats you out. He has the process of making you do so almost down to a science. He loves sucking on your clit while he pumps his fingers into you and curls them right into your G-spot. As for receiving he 100% fucks your face. He will grab the sides of your head and thrust into your mouth while listening to you gag around him. "Come on Babygirl, I know you can handle it relax that throat for me baby"

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Fast but sensual, He thrusts into you deeply with enough speed to jerk your body up slightly when he bottoms out inside you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) I feel like he may be down for a quickie every so often, however he prefers the full thing and enough time to make you feel the best he possibly can. However, this doesn't mean on occasion he won't bend you over somewhere backstage before a show.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) Jey would definitely experiment with you. As for risks, he loves having sex in places that someone might hear you crying out for him. Even if it's a hotel room and he knows there's someone next door, he will do what it takes to hear you scream his name.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Jey can go usually 2-3 rounds, it really depends on the mood that's set during you all having sex. If you want something rough and hot, then he will go at least three rounds with you, maybe edge you a little or deny you your orgasm to make sure that you really get the most of your time together.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) Jey doesn't own a whole lot of toys for himself or for you when you guys first get together. Though overtime he will get for you two to try out with one another. He loves using a vibrator wand on your clit while he fucks you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Jut enough to get you needy for him. Jey won't torture you with his teasing but he will make you beg just a little bit. He want's to rile you up just enough to make you beg him to fuck you. "Come on baby, say please, ask me to fuck you honey, beg me"

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Not super vocal in terms of moaning, he's very talkative during sex, because he loves to praise you and talk you through things. Though when he cums he will throw his head ack and let out deep groans. "Oh, babygirl, i'm so close, you finna cum for me?"

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) Jey has a polaroid in his wallet of you in his favorite set of lingerie. He loves the way that blue looks on you, hence why that particular set is his favorite to see you in. The reason he keeps it in his wallet is so that he always has a piece of you with him and so he always knows he's the only one who gets to see you like that.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Jey is about 7 1/2 very close to 8 inches. He has a deep red color to the tip of dick and a very slight upwards curve.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Average I suppose would be the word for Jey's sex drive. He isn't one that needs it all day everyday but on average you guys have sex about twice a week, sometimes more sometimes less.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Usually after you fall asleep, Jey will turn something on the tv or scroll on his phone for a bit before he falls asleep himself, though if you wanna be cuddled up to him all night then he will play in your hair till he goes to bed.

[pricegouge]

Fatted Rabbit, Part Thirteen on AO3

Content

Bearshifter!Price x reader | explicit

"No bones, either. Like a man stripped naked, then got absolutely atomized not ten feet away. Poor bastard, huh? Weirdest part was the way the tracks died. They shouldn't've, you know? Too muddy. So I poked around some more. Found the guy's wallet. Wanna take another guess whose it was?" There's a pit in your stomach but you're not sure why. You know who he's gonna say; know John didn't get eaten by a bear. But you don't know what he's getting at, what he thinks he saw. Distantly, you remember how he talks to himself when he thinks you can't hear. "Was it John's?" Finger gun, pointer finger flush against your temple. "Bingo."

A/N Well I did it. Someone gets eaten this chapter so sayonara if that's not for you. I don't think it's gratuitous, but also I'm a gore hound and my standards aren't normal so proceed with caution if you must. As a heads up, this is the beginning of the end, folks. I think there'll only be two, maybe three chapters after this :(

Simon's resolve finally breaks when John takes a winding corner in the foothills of the bighorns too quick and they nearly roll over the guardrail. His grip on the holy shit handle, white knuckled and muscle bunching as it had been for hours, yanks down hard enough to break it and even he can't play that off casually, although he's sorely tempted to try when he realizes Price is too focused on the road to have noticed. Simon sighs and throws the handle out the window before telling Price to pull over. He's ignored, so he snaps his fingers obnoxiously in John's face and nearly gets them bit off in the process.

"Fuck off, Riley," John growls, shoving the other man's hand away, but Simon persists, shoving right back.

"Pull over now , Price."

"Nearly there," John mutters, accelerator never wavering.

"Roight, but the plan is to get there, yeah?"

John risks taking his eyes off the road for exactly two seconds in order to glare at his passenger. Simon, of course, glares right back, hopefully managing to make it look apathetic despite the fact he'd recently torn a piece of Price's car off. 

"Pull over, cap. I'll drive."

"And what'll I do?"

"Not kill us for a start," Simon grumbles and John snarls but complies anyway. It's a quick exchange, and soon Price is simmering in the passenger seat while Simon tears through the countryside at a slightly less lethal pace. It's bad for him, probably; leaves his mind free to wander and envision worse and worse scenarios. Simon hopes it fuels the fire, leaves the general din of anxiety in his gut roiling. He's been beside himself since he'd heard Graves come through that door, sitting up stiff as a board as he yelled through his earpiece for the bird to wake up. It's not good, but it's useful. Himself, he remains as quiet as ever, content to let John simmer, and by the time they make it to the motel where the bird's phone last pinged from, he's damn near frothing at the bit.

Simon pulls up alongside the Wrangler and John is jumping out before the Suburban is even fully parked. The driver's side door hangs slightly open, battery evidently dead after keeping the dome light on half the night. Simon studies the ground around it while John inspects the car thoroughly. He finds a set of keys not far off, crouches to get them and pops back up in the passenger window, watches as his longtime friend sniffs the driver's seat like a bloodhound. He briefly wonders how well a joke would go over right then, thinks better of it when John snarls something at him that sounds maybe a little like 'What?'

Simon just shakes his head minutely, weighing options he knows Price is too wound up to consider. If the Jeep is left here, someone will eventually come to tow it. And then someone will need to be billed, and cops will get involved. But John's found blood on the door, and Simon very much doubts they'll want cops sniffing around by the end of this.

"Jump it," Simon instructs, dangling the keys at John. I'm gonna go see what the clerk knows."

"I'll come with -."

"You won't. You're too distracted, and I'm scarier. Jump it." He lobs the keys over the roof of the Jeep and Price grumbles but complies, returns to stewing.

The reception area is dim, mildewy, the carpet so thin and threadbare the concrete dust of the subflooring puffs around each of Simon's quiet, careful bootfalls. There's no one at the desk so Simon takes it upon himself to slide behind it and knock the mouse of the computer just to see if it's locked. It is, of course, because nothing can go right anymore, so he thumps the help bell hard enough to break it and sits to await the clerk, for all appearances just as patient as ever.

Simon can hear the clerk muttering to himself about customers as he rounds the door of the office in the back, voice thin and high. He half expects Anthony Perkins, gets frumpy old James Stewart with a hell of a black eye instead. The man stops dead when he spots Simon, takes a half a step back before thinking better of it and trying to square his shoulders up. "You're not s'pposed to be back here," he gripes, thick American accent adding to the vague washed up aura of him.

Simon ignores him. "Where'd you tha' shiner?"

The man falters a bit, squeezes an old-looking ice pack in his fist absently. They both track the movement, and when Simon looks up again, the man - Les, by his nametag - has a grim, resigned look about him. "What d'you want?"

"Wanna know who you lost a fight against, first. Then I wanna see some security footage."

"I can't disclose that to anyone but -."

"No, but you will."

"And why would I do that, now?"

"We'll get there," Simon grumbles, leaning forward in the seat until it creaks ominously under his weight. "Who gave you the beat down, Les?"

The man sighs, gives up pretending he's not in pain and plasters the ice pack back to his face. "Didn't give a name."

"I'd imagine not, but you can do better than that."

"I don't know, man, Jesus. Blond fella. Sharp nose."

Simon leaves a beat of silence where another person would hum contemplatively. "And what did you give 'im?"

Under all the swelling, Les pales. "Nothin'."

It's hard giving a man an unimpressed glare, when you make it a point to look unimpressed every moment of your life. Still, Simon must manage it because the clerk visibly wilts, shuffles. "You a cop?"

Simon nearly laughs. "Do I look like a cop?"

"He wanted a key," Les sighs, "to a tenant's room. I swear I didn't give it to him, just her room number. Figured he'd make a hell of a commotion trying to get in and she'd have time to scram, or call for for help or somethin'. But then he hopped the desk and nabbed it. Shoulda seen that comin'," Les huffs, no humor. "I'm sorry if she's your girl, I just didn't know how to stop him."

"And you didn't think to call the authorities when you 'eard 'im peeling out and saw the Wrangler was left ajar?"

"Didn't notice -." He cuts himself off when Simon raises his eyebrows sharply. "We don't… like cops comin' 'round here, 'specially at night. Figured I'd wait 'til she missed check out and call then."

"Gave 'im a hell of a head start," Simon observes, patience growing thin.

Les shrugs dejectedly. "I panicked, man. Had shit goin' on here last night. It was either she goes missin' or a whole mess of people wind up in jail."

Simon lets him flounder a moment, stands to his full height and watches the effect it has on the clerk. "'ere's what we're gonna do. You're gonna show me that security footage like I asked -" Les attempts to interrupt but Simon carries on right over him, "- because if you don't, I will beat you within an inch of your life, call the authorities and tell them all about what you did - or didn't do -, and I'm gonna get to see the footage anyway when I tell them about my friend. And when they ask about your state, I'm going to blame it on that sharp-nosed fucker, yeah?"

Another nervous squeeze of the ice pack. Les looks around for help, finds none. "And if I let you see it, this all goes away?"

"We'll even take the Wrangler."

Les nods. "Hang on. Gotta find the password, should be in the boss's office." He turns and ducks through the door, closely followed by Simon who does not want to lose him out a back window or something.

"You're not the owner?"

"Night manager," Les grumbles, shuffling through a spiral bound notebook so old and thumbed through, the binding resembles an abused slinky. He briefly compares himself to this sorry old man, wondering if that'll be him some day, second in command of a rapidly sinking ship and makes a note to check on Price's finances. Nothing wrong with being thorough.

"Should be it," Les mutters to himself,  moving past Simon into the lobby again.

Simon watches Price through the bay window while the old man works, grumbling to himself all the while about technology he can barely understand. It takes him a bit, but Simon doesn't mind - just keeps watching as his mate grows more and more irritable. It's a gamble, probably, but Price has always had a short, effective fuse. All he needs to do is find a direction to aim the man and soon they'll all be home in time for dinner.

If Price is still hungry, that is.

He texts Gaz to make sure the man can help him if he gets a plate number, frowns at the emojis he receives in response. A thumbs up and a saluting serious face. Probably an affirmative.

"Here it is," Les finally announces, and turns the screen toward Simon. Must not want the big man coming back behind the desk again, smart lad. He does it anyway, just to be an arse.

"Is that a bloody Escalade?" Simon prides himself on keeping most emotions out of his tone, but he can't help the sneer of disgust the gaudy SUV incites.

Wes nods sympathetically. "A champagne one too, looks like."

"Christ," Simon mutters, watching as Graves drags a concerningly limp bird into the back seat. "Get me a decent shot of the tags." Wes does, eager to please now that he knows his intrusive guest will be clearing out soon. Simon copies the number over to Gaz and asks for a print out of the shot for good measure. He claps his hand on Wes's shoulder when the man produces, squeezes threateningly to gain his attention.

"Wes, you wanna hear my favorite Norman Bates joke?"

"Uh, s-sure," the man agrees, hackles raised.

"It goes like this: if I ever find out you stood idly by while another girl gets abducted, I'll come back here and taxidermy you, yeah?"

"Y-yes, sir." He has the decency to sound shamed, at least.

"Roight. That wasn't very funny, was it?" Simon hums as if in thought, pats Wes on the back too hard again as he straightens out and walks back around the desk. "Tell you what, I ever come back, I'll take another stab at it." Wes doesn't laugh, the tasteless git. Simon nods at him in paying and shuts the door unsettlingly quietly behind himself.

He's halfway across the parking lot when Gaz calls him. 

"You sure that's the right car?" The younger man greets him when Simon answers.

"Quite sure. Saw Graves pull the girl in and everything."

"Strange. It's registered to a Hershel Von Shepherd… the third."

"Two wasn't enough?"

"Apparently not. This guy's like, the real deal, bruv."

Approaching Price now, Simon puts Garrick on speaker. "What d'you mean?"

"Some high ranking general, looks like."

Simon and Price exchange a look. "She said she thought Graves knew someone high up there," Price supplies, and Gaz takes a minute to think it over.

"That shell company we found Graves works for… how likely is it looking that's some paramilitary thing?"

Simon chews that for only a second. "Very."

"Should we -?"

"'M'not worried about it." 

There's very little room for argument in Price's voice, but Gaz tries anyway. "I am. What's the plan when you pull up on a compound, eh? You lot got some Rambo shit going on I don't know about?"

"Are we headed for a compound?" Simon interjects before Price can get too heated. Best to steer clear of discussing the plan, considering the best he thinks they've got is 'sic a werebear or whatever on him and hope for the best,' and he's quite certain Price doesn't want Gaz knowing about that.

Kyle huffs. "No," he allows after a moment. "Shepherd's got a cabin down near Denver, looks like. If Graves is looking to return his buddy's car, my bets on that."

"Send the address," Price barks, already climbing up into the Wrangler. He forgot to slide the seat back first, looks bloody ridiculous, all spitting mad and folded like a paperclip.

"Cap," Garrick hedges, but Price isn't listening so Simon assures Gaz he'll talk to the boss before signing off. "Don't get yourselves killed," Gaz mutters, but hangs up all the same. 

"We need to talk," Simon announces, Captain Morgan-ing his boot into the door jamb so Price can't close it after figuring out the seat.

"Christ, Simon, I am sitting on blood splatter, now really isn't the time," Price seethes, but Simon doesn't so much as flinch.

"Think it's the perfect time, cap. Gotta have a plan." Price rolls his eyes because he's a petulant child, starts the Jeep and shoves at Simon's leg. He's mildly surprised when the old man succeeds in dislodging him but he covers it fine, steps into the way of the door. "Graves knows about you," he announces and finally, Price stills.

"Knows what?" The man growls, and Simon just keeps staring up at him blankly.

Price takes a moment to eye him over, assessing. "And what is it you think you know, Riley?" 

"Know your current plan amounts to 'go all berserker and eat 'im up in one big gulp,' but I'm telling you, if this whole paramilitary shit is true, 'e's gonna 'ave lot worse than some backwoods hunting rifle waiting for you."

There's a tic in Price's jaw as he tries to decide how much of his hand he's willing to show. Simon remains unflinching, letting the other man see exactly how unaffected he is by the truth. He's known for years anyway, plenty of time to grow used to it.

"'e thinks we're both…" Simon waves his hand demonstratively, "furries -."

"- Shifters," Price corrects, long suffering.

"Whatever. Us and Johnny. 'e's an idiot, 'course, but 'e's expecting three bears to show up, if anyone -."

"But he's not expecting anyone. That's what the mace was for." Simon raises an eyebrow in question, and John huffs in frustration. "Can't smell her. I could've tracked her by scent alone if that fucker hadn't sprayed me. I can only assume that's why he wasted time with me before going after her. Thinks he's safe."

"Still leaves me and Johnny."

"Then bluff, Simon. Pretend you got a hell of a trick up your sleeve if you have to."

Simon nods, backs up half a step but holds the door open as another thought occurs. "How'd he know to do that? Get you where it hurts?"

"Because he knows even one singular factoid about bears, I assume?"

"You don't think it's odd how quickly he accepted your fur -."

"-Shifter abilities?" Price eyes Simon over, mustache like to crawl off his face, he's so irritated by this point. "Think it's odd how quick you accepted it."

People usually shrug here, but Simon schools himself into stillness. "Unflappable, me."

"'Course. We're not done talking about this, but I haven't eaten properly since everything started tasting like mucous, and I got big dinner plans." Price plants his boot on Simon's hip and pushes him away, slams the door behind him.

"And what am I supposed to do?" Simon calls through the window glass. There's a speck of blood by the side view mirror which he tries not to think too much about.

"Well, you brought your backwoods hunting rifle, right?"

***

The cabin is nice. Suspiciously nice. Like, 'Has the man you've been committed to for the last several years been secretly married to some successful plastic surgeon this whole time?' kind of nice. But the few pictures that adorn the mantle feature an older, sterner man and his younger, conservative looking wife. No kids from what you can tell, corroborated by the lack of warmth within the walls. It's decorated well enough alright, but in that sterile kind of design you think Joanna Gaines should be brought to the Hague for. You fashion yourself a crutch from a dining chair. It's bulky and awkward, and Phil yells at you whenever you use it while he's inside, but it allows you to take stock of your surroundings, puzzle out places you can hide if need be, or items that could make a decent makeshift weapon. Unfortunately, 'rustic minimalism' leaves you with few options. Less still for a good splint. After close inspection, you'd been relieved to find the break was above your ankle, and probably only restricted to your tibia. You'd found a clothes drying rack the first night at the cabin, broke it apart while Phil slept and used the rods to brace your leg, fashioning it all in place with corded saran wrap. It wasn't great; the plastic itched where it met your skin and it slipped down your leg if you moved too much, but it was better than nothing so you made do despite Phil's mocking laughter when saw it.

Phil's ear oozes blood and pus, marks up all the starched dish towels. He doesn't eat anymore. Well, he might, but you've yet to see it. You'd drifted in and out of wakefulness on the trip down to the cabin and it was easy to assume you'd missed it, or maybe that he'd been running so full tilt that he hadn't stopped at all. It had left you starving, but it wasn't like you were about to ask him to make a special stop for you. It doesn't get better when he stops running. He goes outside a lot, says he's sick of looking at you. Through the window you can see him talking animatedly on a phone he keeps hidden on his person at all times. When he pockets it, the hem of his shirt rides up enough you can see the pistol he keeps in his waistband. You sneak uncooked pasta from the pantry while he's distracted, stay out of his way when he's not. 

He hasn't been terrible, all things considered. He likes to grab his gun through his shirt threateningly, but hasn't pulled it on you yet. You keep your head down, watch him in your periphery. He cleans his ear obsessively, mutters about old werewolf movies when he thinks you're not listening. You worry about this new Phil, this man who seems to be courting madness, and sprinkle powdered bleach on the clean rags when he's not looking, listen to him groan in pain every time he goes to clean his ear. 

The second night in the cabin finds you laid out on the bed next to him, over the blankets. The threat of him makes you physically ill, but he doesn't touch you, just stares at you malevolently in the wan light that filters in through the rough woven curtains. His ear is a pool of tar in the darkness, oily and slick. It stinks, compiling with the lingering nausea of your head wound and the general sickness his presence brings you to have you turning your nose into the pillow. It smells like straight Borax because the lady of the house probably thinks modern cleaning agents will turn her ovaries queer or something, but you breathe deep anyway, which prompts a cruel laugh from Phil.

"Don't like it, darlin'? Me neither. Got your man to thank for that, you know." It's his fighting voice - the one that warns you there is no response that could appease him. You're so tired. 

"Said he bit it off," you chomp illustratively, huff as if it's funny. You hang your finger over his wound suggestively, but your muscles are lax to show him you're no threat. " Holey field indeed."

He snarls, slaps your hand away anyway. "Think it's funny, do you?"

"A little," you admit, brace yourself for a strike that doesn't come. When you can meet his eyes again, Phil looks almost impressed. "What are we doing here, Phil?"

"Hiding out for a bit. Don't know how much you told your man."

"Why?"

"Rather not get mauled in the -."

"No, why are we here? You hate me, Phil. Why not just move on?"

Phil sighs, heavily, plants his open palm on your cheek a little too aggressively and shakes you by your jaw. "So soft, darlin'. So pretty. Simple." He flicks your temple and you flinch, head throbbing, drawing another cruel laugh. When he speaks again, his voice is low and flat. Dark. "I don't share my toys."

You try to drop it, turn back to his ear. "You still got glass in there." He doesn't, it's the bleach drying his flesh out so bad it's turning the cartilage brittle, but he can't see it properly to call you a liar so you'll take your bargaining chips where you can get them. "I'll debride it for you if you get me a splint."

He scoffs. "Glass… ain't worried about the glass, despite your best efforts."

"Human mouths are gross," you agree. "We could both go -."

"Ain't worried about the human part, neither." He sits up with an irritated sound and you keep your lips zipped, the strange stalemate you'd found yourselves in bleeding away and taking your gall with it. "That man of your's… sure know how to pick 'em, don't ya?"

You might tell him he'd left John with little choice, but you know better. Phil continues, "That bear you were friendly with. Never struck you as odd?"

It's hard to speak past the knot that builds in your throat when you realize just how closely Phil must have followed you. You don't remember seeing an Escalade around, which means he followed on foot in some places, skulked through underbrush. It's a miracle (a curse) he himself never got a bit 'friendly' with the animal. You shake your head.

"Not very bright, you. Thought about calling that thing in a few times. It's a damn freak, you know? Huge, too. Woulda made a damn fine trophy. I traced its tracks one time out of curiosity. Wanted to see where something like that kept itself hidden. You know what I found?" At your continued silence, Phil prompts you to guess. "I could give you all fuckin' night and you'd never get it, but I wanna hear you try anyway."

Well, ain't that just like him? You sigh. "I don't know, Phil. Bear shit?"

"Cute. But bears shit in the woods. Got a whole thing about it. Your buddy bear, though, he came from out by the town - manifested in a birch grove far as I could tell. Found a pile of clothes there, blood splatter a few yards off. Thought that was strange."

You do too, unable to keep the confused scowl from your face. What the fuck is he on about?

"No bones, either. Like a man stripped naked, then got absolutely atomized not ten feet away. Poor bastard, huh? Weirdest part was the way the tracks died. They shouldn't've, you know? Too muddy. So I poked around some more. Found the guy's wallet. Wanna take another guess whose it was?"

There's a pit in your stomach but you're not sure why. You know who he's gonna say; know John didn't get eaten by a bear. But you don't know what he's getting at, what he thinks he saw. Distantly, you remember how he talks to himself when he thinks you can't hear. "Was it John's?"

Finger gun, pointer finger flush against your temple. "Bingo. I thought, 'what luck!' Bastard went and took care of himself. Stood there debating whether or not I should call it in, but must've waited too long. Damn bear came back. Remembered they sometimes bury fresh kills so I sat around and watched cause nothing would've pleased me more'n to see your man all tore up. Even started filming for posterity's sake. Didn't quite get that, though," he chuckles darkly. "You wanna see something? Wasn't gonna show you cause I know how you are about gorey movies -," if he was withholding information, it wasn't to spare you. He was probably just trying to keep the upper hand. "- but I can tell already you won't believe me if I don't, so maybe this is best."

Phil digs into his pocket, procures his phone. You sit in apprehensive silence as he flips through it. "Hold my hand if you get scared, darlin'," he drawls, turning the screen towards you and pressing play. 

There's no denying it's your bear, at least. Tall and broad as a shed, strange shaggy quality of his collar that makes him look bearded. He lumbers into frame with his head lowered, snuffles around the pile of clothes Phil had mentioned. His ears pin back at whatever he finds and peers around for a bit, nose held high. But whatever he finds can't be too concerning because he settles back after a moment, shakes his great hairy body. And keeps shaking. 

It sloughs off him in one great pelt, leaving spare few patches to dot the sinewy, thin-skinned freak which stands on its hind legs and stumbles away from its own flesh. You watch in horror as it groans in pain, oddly jointed arms reaching blindly to keep tree limbs from scraping its tender flesh. It looks like raw chicken until it doesn't, flesh bubbling as if being cooked, growing darker and tougher as it reshapes itself. It pants in exhaustion when it finally stops, familiar weathered hand stroking down a broad, inviting chest as if to take inventory of itself.

John pats his hips in satisfaction, points at his discarded clothes as if he'd lost track of them for a second. He dresses himself efficiently and does one more pat down to be sure he hasn't forgotten anything and then walks off, calm as can be. 

You can feel Phil's eyes on you, but it's hard to school your expression into anything other than abject terror. He's smiling when he pulls the phone away from you, your reaction all he needed to know you hadn't been bluffing, that you honestly had no idea what John was capable of.

"Just when you think you know a guy, huh?"

***

Phil brings you outside with him after coffee. You try to demure, hoping to snag some more dry pasta, but he says the sun will do your head some good. You doubt it, even just the threat of it peaking through the tops of the pines enough to lance pain down your optic nerve, but it's not like you can very well fight him on it, so you let him guide you onto the porch and watch while he goes about setting up wood to chop. You wonder if it's a threat tactic and stifle a laugh when his diminished arms struggle with the maul after only a few logs. You tune out after that, unwilling to be caught so much as grinning at his expense, and think about your conversation the night before.

It makes sense, is the biggest problem you're having with the whole thing. 

You' laid awake all night thinking through every interaction you'd ever had with either John or the bear - with him , you suppose, in both cases. It's shocking to say the least, but in a strange way, you're almost relieved. All the fears he'd been keeping tabs on you, all the convenient excuses you'd had to craft to explain them away; all your worries, tied away with one extremely unlikely ribbon. You'd still need to have a talk with him about using his other form to keep tabs on people if you ever got a chance to speak to him again, but somehow it's less malicious this way. It's not his fault you'd decided to use a wild animal as a therapist, after all.

Mostly you're mad he didn't tell you, though you can't really fault him for playing that close to the chest. More than that, you're mad at Phil for taking it upon himself to spread the information around. You watch him as he works, eyeing his ear suspiciously. He'd told you before turning in that he was worried he'd wind up like John. You were worried too. John made for a sweet bear, if a little intimidating. Something tells you Phil would not have the same temperament. 

"Had a dream you were a fox," you call to him after the silence grows too long.

Phil frowns up at you. "A fox?"

"Yeah. Right before you… revealed yourself, back at the motel. Was dreaming about the bear trying to wake me up. And then it was a fox. Looked kinda like you. And then it was you."

He chuckles, hefts the maul a little closer to himself. "A fox, huh? That how it works, you think? What's that make you, big boy? Damn mountain lion?"

You frown in confusion, follow his line of sight off to your right. "Simon!" you gasp, leaping to your feet. You forgot about your leg in your excitement, however, and stumble down the porch steps with a yelp.

"Careful, darlin'. Gonna get yourself hurt," Phil laughs, siddling closer to you. He yanks you to your feet and places you between himself and Simon. It takes you a moment to understand why, eyes taking in the rifle he's got aimed at Phil belatedly.

Simon is silent as he stalks out from behind the cabin, heavy boots never so much as snapping a twig. You wonder how Phil even noticed him, and then wonder if he let himself be noticed. "Olright, pet?" he calls softly, and you nod, eyes scanning the treeline.

Phil brings the business end of the maul to your throat. It's not terribly sharp, but it wouldn't take too much effort to throw you across the steps and split your head open and the threat is clear. You swallow your panic and hang on to his forearm for support. 

"Where're your buddies?" Phil's voice is high with nervous tension. You think your's would be the same if asked to speak.

"'Round," Simon drawls, kicks a rock over when Phil's anxious circling nearly turns you both around.

It works. Phil twists back toward the sound and Simon carries on, nonchalant, making more noise. Your breath comes rapidly, in through your nose, out through your mouth. You think you can smell something musky on the breeze, and your grip slides down your captor's arms, toward his hands.

"Hold still," Phil warns, and Simon draws to a halt. A soft shuffling noise continues despite his stillness and Phil spins to meet it. Your bad leg takes most of your weight and you stumble to the ground. 

A deafening crack echoes in the small clearing and Phil slumps over you, his shoulder a mangled mess. You're still trying to process what happened when an ear splitting roar shakes the very ground and you look up to find the bear thundering at you from the treeline. Phil sees him too, and the two of you scramble for the maul. He kicks you in the shin cause he's a bastard, so you use his leverage to help you push the sledge against his shoulder. He grunts in pain and you wrench it from his grasp, start to roll out of his reach when a lethal click stops you dead.

It's not you he's aiming at, though. 

Two quick, successive shots. You turn in time to see the bear falter, the hump of its back shaking with impact. It doesn't stop for long. A few more steps and the bear's on him. It - John - sinks his teeth into the meat between Phil's scapulas, tries to stop on a dime, can't, goes tumbling over with Phil still clamped in his jaws. Phil gets slammed into the ground with a sickening crunch that turns his screams into silent wheezes. John settles his weight on top of Phil's prone body and holds his head down with a massive paw so he can pull against it, tearing muscle as easily as the thin cotton of his shirt when he shakes his head like a dog.

Phil's screaming again. John doesn't seem inclined to stop it until the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding whistles out of your chest raggedly. The bear asses you for a moment, chewing contentedly on the scrap of flesh between his teeth like a cow with cud. Your eyes dart from John to the dying man below him rapidly, unsure what you're asking for.

John grumbles, but wraps his maw around the column of Phil's throat and bites down hard enough that Phil's screams turn to gurgles, give way to a sickening crunch. When he pulls away, a fat tongue licks the geyser of blood and finally, your stomach roils.

"Let's get you inside, pet." You wipe your mouth, turn to find Simon crouched next to you. "No need to see this." 

"He's hurt." Simon looks at you like you might be simple so you clarify, "John."

You both glance at the man - bear? - in question, tearing at a scrap of viscera that sounds upsettingly like jerky. He glares at Simon ominously, as if daring him to touch you in any way that could cause offense. There's blood matting the fur of his back and shoulder but he pays it no mind. 

"Think 'e'll be olright." 

You hold a hand out, expecting to have him help you up, but the big man tucks his arms under you instead, lifts you with little more than a huff. 

"Seriously, what are they putting in the water over there?" You mutter. He'd laugh, but he's being careful of your leg. Some jostling is inevitable, though, and he hums deep in his chest in sympathy when you grimace.

He carries you back to the cabin and you watch over his shoulder as the bear turns Phil over onto his back, pawing at clothes to expose his belly.

"Scrawny bastard can't be very tasty," you quip, and here Simon does laugh. 

"You ever listen to someone eat a Slim Jim?"

"Oh god," you grumble, stomach audibly gurgling. This time Simon's laugh is a cruel thing.

He sets you up on the couch with a pillow propping up your leg. He goes back outside and you hear him yelling something about a phone. The bear lowers at him, but the wet squelching of Phil's vulnerable underbelly stops for a moment and soon after comes a dull thunk. When Simon returns, he's got Phil's phone in one hand and a thumb in the other. 

You lip curls, "Is that necessary?"

Simon doesn't even spare you a glance. "Just gotta figure out who he's told what."

"About you and John?"

"Oh, I'm not a furry." It's stupid and unexpected enough to startle a laugh out of you. Simon carries on as if there's nothing wrong with what he's said. "But yes, that. And gotta figure out if anyone's gonna come looking for 'im."

"There's a video in there," you offer, "Of John… changing. Don't know if it's backed up to anything."

"Good bird, I'll check." His eyes meet yours for a moment. "'e showed you then, I'm assuming?"

You nod. "Suppose it was for the best in the end. Would've shit myself if I saw that thing running at me without knowing what was going on." Simon nods exactly once. You take it for agreeance. "How long have you known?"

"Years. But don't tell Price that."

"He didn't tell you?"

"No. Didn't even know I knew until yesterday."

"Well then how'd you find out?"

Simon turns his big apathetic eyes on you. "'e doesn't 'ave a house in Phoenix. Telling you now, in case you're still holding out for the snowbird lifestyle."

This time when you laugh, you think you spot a slight crinkling of Simon's eyes as well.

***

An hour passes mostly in silence. You ask Simon to check on John occasionally, but he only ever says things are unchanged out there so you take that to mean John hasn't died of blood loss. You try to come to terms with everything you just witnessed, but it's still too fresh, your adrenaline too high. Instead, your thoughts circle back to John repeatedly, your fingers itching to inspect his wounds. That's probably not a normal reaction, but nothing about this situation is normal so you give yourself a break.

When John does stumble in, he's naked. Simon squawks, which would be funny to you if John wasn't also covered in blood. You try to climb to your feet to meet him, but he's on you quicker than you can even process, kneeling beside the couch and running sticky hands all over your face.

"Are you okay?" you both ask at the same time, and you nod feverishly, subject yourself to the desperate kiss he plants on you in response.

The taste of him is heavy, seems to coat your tongue. You can't help the full body shudder it elicits and John retracts, brushes wet, whiskery kisses up to your temple instead. He stays there for a moment, just breathing you in. You use it as an opportunity to peer over his shoulder, inspect his back. He's leaning away again before you can make sense of what you see back there.

John holds your face between his massive palms. He looks you over, eyes desperate and wild. You give him a reassuring smile, hold onto his forearms while he tries to wipe some of the blood off you. Smears it, if the way he frowns at his dirty hand is any indication.

"That your blood?"

"I wish," he growls, and uses the hem of your shirt to try wiping it off. 

"You wish?"

"You already smell enough like him." You finch when he presses against your head too hard and his scowl deepens.

"Here." A towel lands over John's head, another on the floor next to him. You grimace at Simon apologetically and try to get John covered while he completely ignores your attempts, focused entirely on cleaning the blood off you, hands much gentler this time. 

"John, I'm fine."

"Not fine, bunny," he seethes. You blink at him, but give him a pass when you realize he's mad at your state. "What happened?"

"How about we get cleaned up first, eh?"

"We have to get you to a hospital."

"Me?" you scoff. "You got shot!"

He shakes his head. "Don't worry about me. Simon, go get the car, yeah? We gotta -."

"Okay everybody hang on. You are naked and covered in a dead guy's blood. Let's deal with that first."

"Bunny -."

"And then I think we should get our story together before we waltz our hot fresh gunshot wound slash old broken leg combo into a hospital." The words are out before you've even thought them through - what it means for you, that you'll be an accomplice to your own ex's… murder? It's not murder if a wild animal kills and eats you. John isn't a wild animal, but it's not like he was all there mentally at the time either. 

You hope.

Well, maybe it would be okay if he knew what he was doing, but you're gonna delicately avoid saying that outloud.

John's mustache twitches irritably, but Simon looks about as supportive of your idea as you think he's capable of appearing. Nodding, John stands and tucks his towel around his waist. His belly is so full it's nearly distended and you try not to think about it too hard. You're not surprised when he picks you up. Simon tactfully turns away in case there's a wardrobe malfunction, but the towel stays firmly in place as John carries you down the hall. You know where he's headed and you point the way to the master bath.

What does surprise you is the way he strips you too, unwinds your makeshift splint so achingly carefully. His palms are impossibly light when they smoothe over the indents the saran wrap has left in your skin and you both frown at the bruising which has pooled under your skin.

"That's gotten worse," you comment, and John presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, breathing in the sweat there deeply.

The shower is blessedly huge. John gets the water to a comfortable temperature before helping to lower you to the tiled floor. He doesn't even bother to wash any blood off before he's plastering himself to your side and burying his face in the crook of your shoulder. Red runoff slips over both of you, swirls in the drain. Your hands are on his scalp, his neck, his shoulders. They trace the rivulets of water down his back and he grunts when you find the first open sore.

"You know they call the police for gunshot wounds."

John shakes his head. It jiggles your tit a bit when he does it, enmeshed as he is with you. "Clean through."

"What?" Pushing him away, you drag a palm over his chest in search of the other wound but he just holds your hand in place over his pec. 

"Through my shoulder hump, sweetheart. In my other form. I'll be fine in a few days."

Confused and unbelieving, you push at him until he turns to show you: a gnarly hole over his lower ribs which bleeds profusely, and a smaller, far less concerning mark up over his scapula which somehow looks already knotted over. It doesn't make sense here, but you suppose if you twisted and contorted his body enough you could draw a straight line between the two. Still, you drag your thumb gingerly under the cleaner of the two wounds, watch the tender skin jump. 

"How is this nearly closed over?"

John shrugs. "Quick healer."

You suppose it makes sense, after the horror you watched his own body inflict upon itself in Phil's video. All that skin remaking itself. "Of course."

"Told you it's you I'm more worried about." He leans back against the wall, cradles your entire face in his palm. 

"I'm good now," you try to convince him, but suddenly your voice is anything but and John crumples.

"Do I scare you?"

Your lip wobbles, unauthorized. You shake your head before you can really think it through, and then sob in relief when he wraps you in an all-consuming hug and you realize it's the truth. He should scare you. He really should. But for better or worse, the only thing you feel wrapped up in his strong arms like this is safe.

It's hard to stop the tears once they start but John holds you all the while, occasionally pulling away just enough to inspect your face and kiss your eyelids, your nose. You hold him back as best you can, but the angle is awkward so you mostly just end up stroking his hairy chest and you both know you've cried yourself out when your fingers get picky, start combing icky bits out of his pelt.

John lets you groom him, scrub away every last trace of Phil. He cleans you too, careful to filter water through his hands when he sees you flinch as the hard water pressure beats against your bruised scalp. You make him rinse his mouth, pick something that looks like bone from his chops and surprise yourself with how well you handle it, watching apathetically as the suds push it along toward the drain. It's possible Phil didn't quite deserve this fate, but you decide it's not your job to determine that; you're just glad to be free of him.

"Gonna remember the way you crushed his throat until the day I die, I think," you murmur, inspecting his nails and hairy knuckles.

John goes still. "I'm sorry you saw that, bun -." 

"Not a bad thing, John." When you risk meeting his eye, you're met with an intense, desperate gaze. 

"Don't leave me again, bunny." 

You feel like an idiot, throwing yet another item onto the pile of forgiven things that would have sent you running even just a few weeks ago. But it's not a threat when John says it; just a raw, honest plea. This man's tracked you across multiple states, revealed his deepest secret for you. Killed for you. And still, he doesn't demand you return with him or hold all these things he's elected to do of his own accord over your head. Just begs you to stay. 

He still tastes like blood when you kiss him, but it's just more fuel for the pyre of forgiven, ignored warnings.

A/N Want you guys to know that I figured out the choreography of this bear attack by wrestling with my infinitely patient dogs, so if you ever need a good pick me up, just imagine looking out your window one day and seeing your fat neighbor putting their 70lb dog through a death roll and pretending to rip its throat out, snarling all the while as if they've gone fucking rabid.

Next>>

[fallinforerling]

LOVE ISN'T ETERNAL. chapter 9 - jb

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s taglist

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

After being dropped off by Jude’s parents, you stayed on the couch for a good hour thinking about how bizarre the whole day was. You didn’t even want to check your phone right now, so you just left it in your living room and went directly to get a hot shower. 

While undressing, you noticed that you had dinner while wearing Jobe’s jersey. Hah, now it made sense why so many people took double looks at you. Not that you cared.

You just wanted to relax for once. The whole process of getting ready for bed got you in a better mood; so after doing your skincare and drinking some tea, you felt ready to check your messages.

There were some texts from the girls and some from Jobe. You went for Jobe’s first since they were the most recent.

✉️ Jobe: Thank you for the weirdest night ever

✉️ You’re welcome?

✉️ Jobe: No, seriously. I haven’t seen Jude this happy for a while now

✉️ Jobe: He’s close to giggling and kicking his feet like a little girl

✉️ lmao

✉️ Maybe that’s because I told him I was going to unblock him

✉️ Jobe: Did you?

✉️ Not yet…

✉️Jobe:  Well, maybe you should

✉️ Oh my god??? What’s happening???

✉️ Jobe: I talked to him, just… Maybe? I won’t force you tho

✉️ I’ll consider it

✉️ Jobe: That’s good enough for me… Have a good night, darling

✉️ Good night, sweetie

Odd. What could possibly be happening that Jobe was (kinda) defending his brother? You didn’t blame him, obviously. But… Again, odd. With a shrug, you hopped on the girl’s group chat, which had lots of messages from hours ago.

✉️ Nikki: Weeeeell…. I was casually checking the TikToks people were posting about the game… You know, to see how it was going

✉️ Nikki: THEN… Girl, you went a bit viral agaaaaain. You appeared on the big screen and SOME people saw the little interaction Mr. Jobe and you had. The football fandom is going crazy again, a lot of people are debating if you’re his girlfriend or Gio’s girlfriend

✉️ Mia: Since none of them had said a word about the rumors… People are kinda taking sides

✉️ Mia: I also saw that after the first half some girls were looking for you because they were near your seat and you were gone. Then they noticed you were sitting next to THE Jude Bellingham and went on trying to figure out if you were his girlfriend instead while taking videos and photos to POST?!

✉️ Nikki: MESSY

✉️ Oh god… I just saw this… WHY ME, LORD?!

✉️ It’s like… For each day of peace I get, ten days of absolute chaos are piled up on my door

✉️ Nikki: It’s the drama, the fun, the footballers, the fame

✉️ Nikki: Our beautiful little WAG

✉️ Mia: If it’s not with douchie, it’s with that Gio guy

✉️ Mia: Heʼs hot af

✉️ Mia???? 

✉️ Do you want his number?

✉️ Nikki: Omg, Miaaaa

✉️ Mia: Both of you… Shut up. This isn’t about me finding Gio the hottest man alive, this is about YOU getting shipped with half of the footballers you know

✉️ Don’t remind me of that, please

✉️ I’ll better get some sleep before the vein on my forehead explodes, bye my loves

✉️ Nikki: Bye baby! Sweet dreams

✉️ Mia: Score a goal!

✉️ Fuck you lmao

Great. You were never getting rid of that stupid “popularity” among the football fanbase… Well, at least among the people that cared about the player’s love lives. They knew your face now, even if the subject of who your “boyfriend” was died down. You were out there forever for people to see and have an opinion.  

Time to sleep.

You were on your way to turn off the lights and wash your cup when the telecommunicator started to ring; you almost let out a scream. Who on Earth was ringing your house at two A.M?! With your heart beating like crazy, you ran to answer and yell to the jerk on the other side. 

“Miss! I’m so sorry to bother you this late but…” Mel’s words were interrupted by some loud male voices. “There’s a couple of gentlemen asking me to allow them into your floor…” Oh, poor Mel. 

You couldn't scream to your sweet doorman Mel.

“Mel! Hi... Gentlemen? As... Men asking to come here?” This was unbelievable.

“Yes, uh. They'd been here for at least ten minutes. I'd tried to persuade them into leaving but nothing works."

“Do you happen to recognize these gentlemen?” Your gut feeling was very reliable, so you kinda knew who it was. 

“Well… I’m not so sure about it, but I think that’s… Bukayo Saka and Jude Bellingham, miss.” 

He surely knew them at first sight, but it was adorable he was trying to dissimulate it.

“Oh, my god…” You sighed. When was this going to end? “Just… Let them in, Mel.”

“As you wish.” 

You wanted to punch someone so bad right now. But you just stayed there, by your door, waiting for what seemed to be the night of never end.

No less than five minutes later, your door was being punched at. Because that wasn't a knock. You considered for a moment letting them outside, but you weren't going to sleep if you did that. 

When you opened it, the silliest sight welcomed you. There was Bukayo, a mutual friend that you haven't seen in very long, carrying (if you can call that carrying) a very drunk Jude. How did you know he was drunk? Well, he was (seemingly) asleep against Bukayo's side, only kept from falling because of his friend's arm around his waist. 

“Okay...” Was the first thing that came out of your mouth. “This is... Something.”

“So sorry to do this at such late hours... He's been so insistent. He got a bit too drunk and started to ask about where his girlfriend was and that he wanted to come home.” Bukayo's eyes went blank, sighing. He seemed pretty sober to you. “I tried to persuade him into visiting you tomorrow, but this guy never takes no for an answer.”

“That sounds like him.” You smiled at him apologetically. Because what else could you do? No one knew you two had broken up, and this wasn't the best moment to break the news either. “Let's take him to the couch, I'll help you.”

You got closer, feeling the smell of alcohol reeking from Jude. Iugh. You took one of his arms, putting it around your shoulders. Hah, and just a couple of hours earlier you were trying to avoid just that. With a lot of effort, both of you laid him out the best you could. That didn't mean that it was done in the most careful way. So he woke up, looking at you and then at Bukayo. 

“Am I dreaming, mate?”

“Nah, fam. I did what you asked me; I took you to your girl.” He palmed Jude's arm and then smiled at you. “Now I'm out, this whole thing tired me up.”

“That's okay. Thank you for taking care of him.” You gave him a little hug after guiding him to the door. “I hope we can catch up another time without this type of thing going on.”

“Me too.” He smiled again, looking as sweet as ever, and then turned and left. 

Now you were alone with...

“Darling?” Oh no, not the darling. 

You turned, looking at Jude, who was struggling to keep himself sat upright. He was looking at you with the most drunken-hazed eyes ever, accompanied by the biggest of smiles.

“Yes, Jude?” It was better not to argue with a drunk person this late at night.

“Can I tell you something?”  

“Yeah, sure.” You got closer, sitting on the carpet. Not too close, but not too far away from him. “What is it?”

“I'm an idiot. I'm so dumb, I got drunk tonight, and I miss you.” The smile left his face, but he was still looking at you with happy eyes. “Every time I see your face, I remember that I'm mad dumb for breaking up with you. Because I still love you. A lot.” He let himself fall back into the couch pillows, sighing. “I don't know why I panicked so much a month ago. It was a stupid chat.”

“Sorry?” Your heart was beating fast because of his past confessions, but this new phrase caught your attention way more. “What chat?”

He wasn't looking at you. He was just looking up at the ceiling, like he was trying to remember something.

“Just some stupid chat the coach gave us before you arrived at Dortmund that day... He was talking about how we, as professionals, had to settle in earlier so we didn't get carried away because of all the money and parties... And the drugs. He said that there was a reason for footballers to get married and have kids at such young ages.” He sighed again, looking tired. “And I knew he was talking to the younger part of the team, which included me... I just... I felt like I was being pressured to marry immediately... I got so carried away with my thoughts that I panicked when I saw you. You make me so happy, but I didn't feel ready for any of the coach's options.”  

“So... You broke up with me instead of talking?” Woah. “That's fucked up, Jude.”

“I know... And I'm not asking you to forgive me or... Get back together with me... Even though that's what I have been wishing since I said the words, but... I wanted you to know.”

He didn't seem drunk at all now. 

“Thank you for telling me.” That's all you could say for now. Too much information to take in. 

“Would you have said yes?” He asked after a few minutes of silence, still looking at the ceiling. 

“To what?”  

“Marrying me.”

You felt like someone punched your heart and took the air out of your body. At the same time. 

“I won't answer that.” Mostly because you didn't know the answer. “Get some sleep.” You got up, looking down at him. 

“Why not?”

You took a long look at his face. You gave him a little smile, reaching for his cheek with one of your hands. You caressed it with the tip of your fingers before regretting touching him at all. He closed his eyes, but opened them when you retrieved your hand. 

“Because there's no point in answering something that's not going to happen.”

He frowned, looking offended for a second before relaxing his face again. 

“Well, I haven't asked you.”

“And you shouldn't, because that's something you do when you're sure about it... And not drunk.” You took one of the covers you kept close, tucking him on the sofa so he couldn't move. “And when you're in a relationship, of course. Now sleep or I'll kick you out of my house.”

“Okay...” He appeared so similar to a kid now, all flustered and with big eyes. “I'm sorry for all of this.”

“I forgive you.”

And that was true. You forgave him for all of it. You couldn't hold a grudge forever. It wasn't healthy. 

“Really?” Hope sparkled in his eyes. It made your heart ache.

“I promise.”

Then you got closer and kissed his forehead to prove him right about your words. He gave you the biggest of smiles, again, before falling asleep right there. You gave him a last caress on the cheek before turning the lights off and walking towards your bedroom.

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You thought it was impossible to get any sleep after what happened, but the moment your head touched the pillow, you were out. The stress was draining your energy. You blacked out until the next morning, when a knock on the door woke you up. 

You remembered everything that had happened just a couple of hours ago. There was Jude, knocking on your door like he was a stranger. Somehow, it felt like it. 

“Come on in.” You said after a few seconds, rubbing your face.

The door slowly opened up. Jude was still covered in the blanket, holding it together with one hand below his chin while the other rubbed his eye. Pretty much the same as you. You couldn't help but smile a little at the sight. 

“Good morning.” Even his voice had a little hint of shyness.

“Did you sleep well?” Was all you said while you got up and walked towards the bathroom.

“Yes...” He followed you, just two steps behind. “Thank you.”

“Stop saying 'thank you', just come here and brush your teeth.” You grabbed one of the brand new toothbrushes you kept in the drawer, offering it to him. 

He seemed so scared yet happy about your behavior while taking the toothbrush. You weren't fooling anyone, it was fun to play with his mind a little bit. Payback.

He stood there watching you brush your teeth, wash your face, and brush your hair. It was very funny.

“I'm not going to suddenly take a knife out and follow you around the house with it, Jude. Get cleaned or you won't get breakfast.” You got out of the bathroom, smiling at him when he just blinked at you. “All yours.” And then you left him alone in there.

You entered the kitchen, ready for some breakfast. You heard the bathroom sink go on and off for a few minutes. Meanwhile, you decided to make some scrambled eggs with ham and toast some beagles. It was the best you could offer with so many thoughts taking most of your concentration. 

When you were finishing the second plate, Jude appeared by the door and stayed there. He looked at the plates with surprise, like it was actually impossible for you to be making breakfast for him. 

“It's getting cold.” You offered him one of the plates that was already sitting on the mini table you had available. 

“Are you preparing me for my sudden death, darling?” He sat in front of you, waiting for you to take the first bite. He always did that. 

“Not yet.” You took a bite off the beagle, smiling when he did the same. “Maybe after I eat.” 

He smiled but didn't say anything. You ate in silence, looking at each other from time to time. You felt different around him now that you knew what caused him to break up with you. It wasn't that you suddenly forgot about everything else or how mad you felt, but it made things easier. You wanted to talk. Now there was a real reason for it. 

“I'll wash the dishes.” Before you could say anything, he took both plates and stood up. 

“Go ahead... And after you finish them, we'll talk.”

“Do I make some tea first?” 

“Yeah, that'll be nice.” 

He seemed to understand what was crossing your mind, so he made the tea quietly and walked to the living room. You followed him. 

“Well...” You took a sip of the tea. “Do you remember what you said last night?” 

“I do...” He squirmed on the seat. He was nervous. “I wanted to tell you all that sober but... I fuck up things quite regularly.” 

You smiled, shaking your head. 

“Okay, it's good for the sake of this conversation that you remember everything. Now, when I said that I forgive you, I meant it. But that doesn't mean I'm not angry or hurt by all of it.” He nodded. “I'm still disappointed about how poorly you managed the whole thing; you just needed to talk to me, and the breakup would never have happened.”

“I know.” He covered his face, sighing. “I'm an idiot.” 

“Yeah! Look at me, I spent a month thinking you didn't love me anymore, and it turns out that you just were a bastard that didn't know how to talk to his girlfriend.” You slightly pushed his arm with your foot. “You said you didn't love me as you used to... Why?” 

“I don't know.” He groaned, taking his hands off his face. “I guess I wanted you to hate me. I’ve never stopped loving you.” He grabbed your ankle, dragging your leg closer to his body. “I think I love more than before, actually.” 

You didn't say anything for a while, you just looked at him for the longest time, trying to figure out what to do next. 

“I'm very mad at you.” You took a deep breath. “That club thing you did after we broke up is still fresh in my mind. I can't pretend everything is the same just because we talked.” 

“I know. I'm a jerk for doing that. I just wanted to see if... If I could act like I was okay. I wanted to feel okay. And couldn't accept that I regretted breaking up with you the second you left.” 

“Always your big ego, huh?” You laughed. “Don't take this as if we just got back together. We're... We're friends from now on.” 

“We are friends for now.” He said, smiling. “Because I'll do everything that's in my power to win you back.”

“Whatever you say, Bellingham.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ * TAGLIST

@mentalbaddie | @taintedstranger | @mrs-dasilvasantoss | @mbapbaesluvr | @erensfavgirly | @cinderellawithashoe | @yoitsmo07 | @seajjin | @kakuchosbff | @peterparkerbae | @alwaysclassyeagle | @itsjuspenny-blog | @lbsmainblog | @youngjayla | @freetimemachinequeen | @chaeryeongstuff | @lazyreadergirl | @trentismine | @jul1ettt | @wavessmile

[liamsyux]

ANDERPERRY ONE SHOT bc i’m going crazy (it’s bad and cringe BUT IT’S A MODERN HIGHSCHOOL AU CMON)

(also english isn’t my first language and i didn’t even try to write that good)

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

the first time todd anderson saw neil perry was on the first day of school. he arrived early and when he entered the classroom and right away sat on the desk near the window, he noticed a certain brown-haired guy. the guy had a smile that could light up an entire room and his eyes were simply filled with the purest joy ever. todd found himself staring at the guy, and when their eyes met, todd felt like he was being teleported to another planet. he flushed and suddenly looked down not caring whether the guy was still staring at him or not.

he found out later the guy’s name was neil perry.

weeks passing todd was crushing more and more on the brown haired guy; he was smart, cute, funny and well-cultured. the only problem was that they never actually spoke to each other. and that was, todd was sure of it, because neil didn’t actually seemed to enjoy todd presence in the class.

when their eyes met he always looked away first (strange thing to say when the other guy is todd fucking shy anderson), when todd rarely spoke up in class he seemed to didn’t care at all about what he was saying (also strange because he always cared about what their other classmates had to say) and every time todd started a absolute necessary conversation, he was always trying to get away as soon as possible.

so, for todd anderson, that wednesday was the weirdest day in his life.

the morning was pretty fine actually; he took notes, he listened, he did everything regular. and so, as every other day, when the bell rang, he took his time to pack his stuff away and saw all his other classmates rushing out of the door. all, except one. neil fucking perry. now the only possibilities that came up in todd’s mind where all concerning him being in the wrong and perry having something to say.

what he did not in fact expect was to see a flushed neil with in his hands god knows what, walking towards him.

“erhm todd?”

todd felt his face heat up. neil never called him, let alone called him by his first name.

kinda scared and anxious todd tried to say something normal, without sounding weird.

“yes?”

his voice was low and he felt very insicure. what the hell was going on.

“s-sorry for bothering you, i know you probably would have preferred being alone and pack away your stuff but t-there’s something i-i gotta tell you”

neil kept walking towards todd’s desk as he spoke leaving todd wide eyed, he never seen and heard neil talking and approaching someone with that little confidence.

“n-no don’t worry about that” he said actually sounding very confident.

todd thought neil didn’t like him at all or at least did not like him enough to be friends with him (ne was friends either basically everyone); so the things neil said to him in that empty classroom left him astonished.

“listen i’m sorry if this sounds weird or i don’t know creepy but” he looked up directly into todd’s eyes “i-i really like and i’d feel really honored if you would want to maybe get a coffee with me sometimes! he-here’s my number if you maybe want to text me your answer, or you could just ignore everything don’t worry” and neil left on todd desk a piece of paper, with in fact a cellphone number written on it.

todd was completely astonished. he looked at neil with wide eyes and mouth open.

“i’m sorry, w-what?” he said. it’s not like he didn’t hear him c’mon, neil was basically screaming, he just did not understand.

“shit sorry don’t worry about it i’ll just leave” neil whispered already making his way out.

“i-i thought you didn’t like me” todd said, his voice almost a whisper.

“what?”

“like you befriended everyone in the class except me a-and you never listen when i say something to the teacher o-or you always look away when our eyes randomy mert; i-i just thought you didn’t think i was nice” todd almost shouted.

“WHAT?”

neil ran right away to todd’s desk resting his hands on it.

“i-i’ve liked you since the first day, shit i’m sorry i made you feel like-like i hated you or something”

todd looked at neil like the words he just said were gold falling from the sky. neil looked at him and the kept staring at each other for a while.

“actually i’ve wanted to get some coffee with you since the first day, neil. i like you too” todd revealed with a soft smile.

now was neil turn to be completely in disbelief. seeing todd smiling though made him chukle and smile.

“oh yeah?”

[xixovart]

whats up guys its mali and im back with more pjo headcanons

because i literally nEVER shut up

nico di angelo is bae and i would die for him

ok i know his hair is described as like shoulder length (i think idk) but we HAVE to consider nico with unbelievably long gorgeous hair i beg

estelle’s brother. no questions asked. i feel like nico and estelle would be a power duo to rival annabeth and thalia yeah i said it. percy says estelle cant have candy at night? nico sneaks a tootsie roll in her pillow case. nico helps her with her homework. nico fights her bullies. nico’s relationship with estelle is what a 10 y/o nico’s relationship could’ve been with percy. ykwim?  wine aunts nico and reyna we have to consider this

ok as a sequel nico is really good with kids. idk why. no one knows why. kids love him.

will has the absolute WORST sense of style mankind has ever bore witness to and nico is an unintentional fashion icon. nico genuinely doesn't care that his bf looks like a bad teen beach movie adaptation though it's ok.

youre lying to yourself if you think nico di freaking angelo wouldnt love dinosaurs as a kid

this child was the bane of maria di angelo’s existence. i swear. imagine maria fighting for her LIFE trying to give 3 year old nico a bath just for nico to IMMEDIATELY run outside and fall face first in the mud. imagine nico stealing money from maria and accidentally giving the gelato man a hundred bucks, maria being none the wiser. if you've ever watched full house toddler nico is very michelle coded.

i know its canon that he likes marvel (thx will kayla and austin) but i think he would REALLY love batman. i mean c'mon, it's nico. it's batman. they're soulmates. 

percy going into the redesigned cabin 13 for the first time have we considered his reaction?? “dang btch you live like this???” “what were you expecting” “idk weapons everywhere rock walls a waterfall for a door ig i was just picturing the batcave 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️”

I JUST REMEMBERED THAT NICO GOES TO PERSEPHONE’S GARDEN AND THAT ITS ONE OF HIS FAVORITE PLACES AND LIFE IS GOOD AGAIN.

nico is the modt sarcastic little gremlin to his dad (and everyone, but his dad especially). are uou seriously telling me he wouldn't annoy hades on purpose. let's be real here guys. nico prank calling his dad is the reason im alive. 

“is your… refrigerator running?”

“nico do not fucking start with me i have a headache”

“oh yeah i'm listening to really cool rock metal cool music rn totally” (old italian music blasting from his headphones)

this kid has a guy for EVERY occasion. imagine rhe weirdest situation you could possibly be in, nico knows a guy. “ok where are we gonna find a tap dancing elephant??” “i know a guy”

when he eats ambrosia it tastes like the blue birthday cake he shared with percy im not ok

“so we’re all 16 and none of us knows how to drive??” “i can get us there” “nico you’re like 13 years old.” “and european?? hand me the keys”

ok so you can expect he has unbelievably beautiful penmanship because he was raised in 1930’s italy and you are so right. looking at his writing is like a blessing 

im listening to a pearl by mitski rn and it reminds me of him im so sad

side note i think he would really like mitski

he seems like he would be afraid of clowns. don't ask about my thought process for this i just feel it ykwim

nico would get his shit ROCKED by a nerf gun

“wHY IS THE MICROWAVE SCREAMING AT ME” “nico that just means your food is done.”

i will NEVER shut up about nico di angelo’s accent. rolled r’s, hard i’s, speaking unbelievably fast and tripping over his words. italian!! “oh but mali, in house of hades the seven were surprised to learn nico was italian.'' first of all i love the seven but its rlly dumb of them not to notice nico was italian when his last name is DI ANGELO. second. a certain 11 year old nico trained himself out of his accent as a method for escapism, he wanted to flee his past and his family and his descent, and he wanted to fit in. of course he would hide his accent. his time at camp half blood (and ofc his quest with reyna, and jason’s acceptance of him) helped him start to embrace his heritage and past. when he started dating will, he ofc began to trust will more than anybody else. every so often, nico would let his guard down and let his accent slip. eventually, he started using it freely around everybody. i see this hc as a part of his growth and character development and even if it’s a small detail it means a lot to me.

he takes his curly hair routine VERY seriously

bushy eyebrows idk where this came fr9m just bear with me

nico uses disassociation as a coping mechanism a LOT. he’ll zone out at random for hours at a time and chb has a very strict rule about not bothering campers with ptsd when they’re disassociated unless necessary, so he’ll just sit at the dinner table for ages and when he comes back to reality it’s been like 3 hours. 

 “you came out of the blue like that. i never could've seen you coming, i think you're everything i wanted.” by gracie abrams except it’s nico realizing he likes will 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

[x-liv25-jamieswife]

sorry if you’ve already done this 😭😭😭 but could you do Avery and Gigi headcanons!! Like when they meet and become friends ((((:

avery and gigi head canons

OMG YES! i honestly didn't think of making head canons for those two, but now that you mention it, i'm extremely intrigued. might not be as good as my other posts considering we don't know a whole bunch about gigi but i'll do my best. i've also been working on requests/posts for literal hours so my brain might be out of head canon making power. hope you like them though <3.

gigi is always asking questions about avery's childhood bc avery has the weirdest stories ever bc of the way she grew up.

avery taught her self-defense after some guy tried to come after her. gigi is now better than avery and will most definitely end you if you try to hurt her (she may or may not have also learned self-defense in order to kill duncan)

gigi loves talking to avery bc she doesn't really talk often which allows gigi to spill her guts out. she always has so many different stories to share and stuff, but most people don't spare the time to listen to her.

gigi forces avery to do tiktoks with her (dances, grwms, etc) bc avery looks so awkward and uncomfortable, and it makes her laugh.

she will steal avery's coffee bc no one allows her to have any. avery knows she steals it but doesn't say shit.

gigi forced avery to talk about sheffield and what he did to her. gigi now despises (but still sort of loves him cause he's her father) her father. she didn't think he had it in him to do smth like that to a literal child.

she encourages avery to talk about her emotions and let everything out. gigi is like the mental health advocate (for everyone but herself)

gigi loves ice skating and wanted to bring avery to the ice rink with her. avery didn't know how to ice skate though so gigi taught her how to (their lessons involved a lot of falling, near death experiences, concussions, etc)

avery is like an overprotective mom. if gigi is getting bullied or smth, she heads to that person's house/school or whtv and beats the crap out of them (verbally). they always run away in fear and never bother gigi again.

gigi buys avery clothes all the time. she thinks avery is really pretty and likes dressing her up.

avery gives gigi her credit card and tells her to spend money on whatever she wants (gigi calls avery her sugar mommy)

for some reason, avery is a really good twerker (is that even a word) and gigi forced her to teach her how to shake ass.

gigi feels comfortable enough to open up to avery and ask for advice/vent. she finds avery to be really non judgmental and straight forward which she appreciates.

avery and gigi will constantly gang up on grayson and pull pranks n him (they once replaced all of his expensive skincare with cheap shitty drugstore skincare and he actually screamed)

avery helps gigi with her homework when she's struggling. gigi is convinced avery is a saint bc she always explains the stuff to her better than her actual teachers.

gigi is bi (at least in my head), and avery was the first person she came out to.

they both talk about how much of a fucking coward grayson is when it comes to his feelings for lyra(?). they'll be watching grayson and lyra and they'll be saying things like 'omg how fucking dense can a man be, like, just fucking confess', and gigi will be like 'i fucking hate men'

avery bought her a cat (idk if its been mentioned in tbh if gigi actually has cats or if she just likes them, but if she does own cats, just pretend avery bought her another one)

they go out together and buy her cat(s?) cute little outfits (tutus, gucci coats, bows etc).

gigi has (not anymore though) a tinder account, and avery found out about it. she absolutely freaked and deleted the account telling gigi that it was dangerous and that she'd find a man for her if she was that desperate.

avery never got to experience things that most kids got to experience (she grew up too fast/didn't have the opportunity), and gigi finds it sad, so, she brings her out to like trampoline parks and stuff. it makes gigi happy seeing how happy avery is.

avery is always apologizing to gigi about her father. she blames herself and thinks she should've found another way to escape (when she was kidnapped). gigi reassures her by telling her that there was no other way and that, after everything her father did, he sort of deserved to die.

they shit talk men. they fucking hate them.

in my gigi and grayson post, i mentioned gigi loves knitting. avery knows this and buys her yarn all the time. when she's out with max (or alone or with gigi), she goes to stores that sell yarn and looks for smth cool for gigi.

gigi and her family don't have much money after what happened in tbh. avery gave them all a huge amount of money. acacia feels bad, but avery insisted. when gigi found out, she was so fucking happy she literally knelt on the floor telling avery she was a literal god. she then cried in her arms.

gigi gets her to dress up in the most scandolous shit ever. she somehow found out avery's bra size/underwear size and buys her lingerie whenever she goes out. avery secretly loves it but pretends to be scandalized.

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

I am BEGGING for some good ol' gustav fluff. I will take absolutely anything, my bbg needs sum love. Thank you mwah<3

(hello! Thank you for your requests and I love Gustav a bunch so here ya go! Enjoy!)

Gustav Schäfer Fluff HC'S

I feel like he could be the best boyfriend you could ever have

Probably is the guy to be big and good with communication

Like if you're upset and the type to just say "I'm fine."

He's just like "No, you're not. What's the matter?"

He just wants to hear what's going on and if you have daddy and mommy issues like me, it's absolutely shocking

He gives the best hugs I feel

Like a full on enveloping hug and a small kiss on the head

It's the hugs that sorta feel so comforting like a pillow and also one you wanna fall asleep in

He is the one to legit do anything as long as it involved being with you

You wanna go get shit faced?

He's fucking in!

You wanna prank the band?

He's down!

Sometimes being in a band gets overwhelming and being famous at such a young age

So he finds comfort in being able to go to you!

Staying up all night with this man in a hotel room is a must

When you guys were younger you would prank call so many people

Making pillow forts no matter how old you guys got

It's practically a tradition

I feel like he was very upfront when you guys confessed feelings

He didn't want to hide them and maybe miss out on his chance of being with you

Luckily, he got it!

Boy is not letting go now

You guys on the tour bus are always found sleeping somehow

You guys just nap in the weirdest positions but always look so comfortable

Like he's sleeping on his back, your back to his chest as you both have a blanket over y'all and are just passed out

Bill is like y'all's adopted child

Y'know those Tiktoks of a friend tagging along with their two friends who are dating and the audio is like "Mama e papa, Mama e papa."

That's Bill with you guys all the time!

He is very responsible I feel but also can be immature

You two are messing around with each other in interviews a lot

He's more quiet and if you're outgoing it's a cute little trope

He honestly feels though it was a perfect match if you're more quiet and reserved like him

He likes the calm sometimes but he also loves the chaos

He and you try out new restaurants a lot as dates and somehow it always is fun

You guys have gotten into it sm that you guys have had ppl staring at you guys as you die laughing

You guys laugh so hard sometimes the laughs turn silent and ppl are genuinely concerned

To stop you from talking in like interviews if you're saying something and you guys are bickering, he puts his hat on your head and covers your face with it going "shush"

He's got strong emotions so if you can handle that, great!

He would never want you to feel uncomfortable

If you're one to not really be in touch with emotions like I am, if you just find it hard due to how you grew up or shit like that, since he has such strong ones I feel like he would help you with that

Showing you it's okay to have your own emotions

He can be such a sweetheart

Literally never forgetting even the little details about you

Can remember everything to what you first said to him when you guys met all the way to present day

He stays in the back but you can always be seen trying not to burst out laughing

Why?

Because he whispering shit in your ear about anything and everything

He says the most random shit and he is somehow so passionate about that random shit you can't help but die

He says the most random and rancid things that sometimes you just have to stare for a minute

He is such a goofball

Can make you laugh at any given time of any day

Will poke you and make jokes if you're upset until you laugh

He can be so insulting without meaning to be

Especially when he just doesn't think before he says stuff

He has shocked himself sometimes with what he says

He loves the little thing, the big things, you entirely, and practically everything that comes with you!

[fyodior]

I wanna knock Fyodor up so badly. He’d look so hot pregnant and he’d start showing super early because his tummy is so skinny and flat. He gets so moody and pouty, has the weirdest cravings and hates his bump more the bigger it gets. Has the cutest waddle when he’s all swollen, and despises pregnancy sex because you can’t keep your hands off of the bump.

AHHHHHH YESYESYESYES literally my favorite thing to talk about……. fedya is literally the most cutest most perfect pregnant person ever he’s just so beautiful and glowing (not during the first trimester tho he’s just constantly puking) his bump is so so adorable. he is SO moody yes like the worst mood swings of all time he can be a little bit insufferable….. like yall can be cuddling on the couch he’s all happy in your arms and suddenly he decides he’s totally over it and is fucking fuming. you take it all in stride are so accommodating and sweet with him bc you know it’s so hard on his body and he’s having a rough time. you will run outta the house at 3am to get his craziest craving from the convenience store bc you just want to see him happy and even just seeing him smile is more than enough to be worth it. you see him dipping cheetos into his chicken noodle soup and you’re like babe…. whatcha doin……… his little pregnant waddle anon u read my mind shdjsjdjsd him with one hand on his lower back groaning as he waddles through the house, struggling as his hips spread to accommodate for the big baby in his belly UGGGHHHHHHHHHHH

and the pregnancy sex oh my GOD…… he goes through phases where he is the horniest motherfucker alive and needs you to fuck him multiple times a day to being absolutely sex repulsed. and there’s no telling when either is going to start or end sjdjwjjdej he does get so frustrated sometimes because you’ll get so distracted by his baby bump and just touching and admiring and kissing it, marveling at the fact that you guys made a baby together, that you kind of forget that you’re fucking him……. and it drives him so crazy LMAO

[hoshigaki]

JDJJDJD i think kisame would (highly ironically) probably flag as like a bootlicker and a narc given his… personal relationship… with…. “yagura”… to zabuza and co until he sent the worlds weirdest and funniest mixed message by assassinating the water daimyo and bailing. but zabuza still hates him. bastard.

NO BUT THATS IT EXACTLY! i love zabuza and kisame as friends or begrudging comrades in aus but in canon? from zabuza's perspective zabuza is the best of his nation, he desecrated the chunin exams of kiri at 9 years old and forced his way into the elite swordsmen group, he couldve been sitting pretty as a revered ninja or kirigakure but he knows there is something wrong with the authority of the country and immediately jumps to the idea of revolution. a revolution. thats so out of left field for a bloodthirsty soldier but thats how Fucked Up kiri is in his brain.

and then theres this guy, who arguably is stronger than him, and stronger than his other swordsmen, and hes in the cypher division killing "traitors" but hes also working directly with the swordsmen. and zabuza knows that this guy knows that theres something fucked up with kiri. but when zabuza tries to start the revolution they get intercepted and betrayed and by the power vested in me i will die thinking that kisame stood on the other side of that coup and drew out information for yagura so theyd be prepared to end that before it started. there is absolutely no way that zabuza ever looks back on his experience in kiri and the people who kept it a miserable, bloody place with anything less than vile hatred because zabuza wanted to make the nation better for kids like him and haku.

and then kisame kills fuguki out of state induced brainwashing and then immediately jumps ship to listen to anything that secret evil obito wearing the face of yagura says because why not join another life path of brain washing, this time with a world wide revolution.

zabuza died in shonen so that he couldnt jump on kisame's back and bite him like the piranha he wouldve become when seeing him in the streets

[tapedsleeves]

it hated that I tried to answer your question with a bunch of links, so a new post it is!

so I can answer some of these!

if you're looking for a prankster, that's Jonathan Marchessault.

He and Fleury were close, but also Marchy is just. A funny, joke-y guy. He once stole/hid guys sticks during practice. He makes weird noises, he is friends with everyone. He never stops talking. if anyone is chirping anyone, it's Marchy. He yapped at ryan lomberg for being short last year during the playoff run. Ryan Lomberg is 5'9" and Marchy is LISTED as 5'9" but if he is that tall i'll eat my fucking hat. He's not that tall. He's short. I also think that this video from the quest for the cup series last year is very indicative of some of the dynamics between Marchy & Jack, and several other guys! Jack comes in looking very nice in a suit, and several guys go "oh jacky!!" Known Marchessault associate Keegan Kolesar snaps his fingers at Jack, while everyone else just laughs. Marchy says that "they want to see your boxers too" and then does the meanest little laugh i love him so much. the mic'd up linked above is really good, even though it's a couple of years old - most of those guys are still here (except smitty & max) and smitty was. absolutely essential to Marchy's development in Vegas. But the part I'm referencing is "I blew it" / "you blew it." Marchy & Keegan often have this hilarious back and forth, they're so witty together, i love them.

If there's a dad of the group it's Mark stone (everyone thought he had kids before he had kids) Petro (alex pietrangelo), and Martini (alec martinez). They have the MOST dad energy.

Martini has this like, really dry kind of cutting sense of humor. This interaction between petro and martini where they talk about sitting next to each other is like. Martini is being SO cutting but with the warmest voice you've ever heard in your entire life. And Petro is saying the nicest things but you KNOW they're sarcastic. the same but coming in from exact opposite approaches.

This video with about half the guys answering the question of "who would you trust to guide you in NYC" is VERY good. Petro says Howie (brett howden) or Martini, but ultimately chooses martini. You can see a lot of things at play here, some of which I'll get to later (i'm lookin at you paul cotter), but you can see: a lot of guys trust Martinez to get them around, because he's just got that. Competent Dad Vibe. Like it might be rocky, but you're gonna get through it. Petro is less "it's gonna get rocky" but still "you're gonna get through it" vibes.

Now Mark: I have to tell you a couple of facts about Mark Stone:

he loves golf. He has no concept of what a "weird" story is. Everyone, to a man, loves him so much. Mark cannot smile on command - he just shows all his teeth. Mark is SO weird. He changes his gloves every period bc he doesn't like his hands to get wet. He tapes his stick into such an abomination (bc he loves golf, seriously, compare his stick handle to a golf club. they are the same). He meowed right before the cup picture to make everyone smile and it worked. Mark Stone is the weirdest dad you've ever met, and he's still somehow really cool. Part of the appeal is that he has No Fucking Clue how or why people love him so much. He gets so hype on the ice, but he is insanely chill off of it. He cringed when they dumped too much beer on him in the cup celebrations. He named his child scarlett. That's right. Scarlett Stone. Red Rocks. He named his kid Red Rocks. The ultimate dad joke. He tells a story about Robin Lehner at a party in his back yard for the end of the year, where Ryan Reaves said that he didn't like snakes. So Robin goes outside to try to bring one up and then Mark had 5 snakes in his pool. Witness a man realize he's telling a story he didn't realize before he was telling it is weird in real time. This is the essence of Mark. I LOVE him.

Ok ok ok so. There's KIND OF a butt to the joke guy? but he's also like. SO beloved? VGK is an incredibly inclusive and accepting group. There's not really like. a clique-ish culture at all - they were so new a couple of years ago that the culture they built is "you're here, welcome, come on in" and never looked back. Everyone who's been traded there has said so.

That being said: it's Paul fucking Cotter.

They love to make fun of him, but in a way where if anyone else made fun of him, they'd beat them up. Paul is. Special. He has a trainer dump water all down his back so he gets the zoomies. In the quest for the cup episode, since he wasn't playing in the final, he told a story before video review about his hole in one with everyone egging / cheering him on. As seen in the above video, nobody trusts paul to find his way out of a paper bag. He stole his HSK captain (brayden Pachal, traded to the flames)'s car keys. Pachal took his car in return. He put boulders in front of the doors of Jack's car so he couldn't get in them. I know both of these facts are in the primer but they're ESSENTIAL to Paul. He's a prankster. He's a doofus. He loves goalies SO MUCH. He's friends with LT, they went on a supervised date. They were in HSK around the same time, and Paul loved doing the shootout, and LT loved doing the shootout so they did extra shootout practice together.

Re: get togethers: i am pretty sure that they all do it at random. Mark will host a big party (referenced above) but since they didn't have a captain for so long, it's just. a shared responsibility. Mark loves feeding people tho. So i wouldn't be surprised if he just. does that.

Re: outings uh. I got no clue. sorry.

Re: Newbies I can answer!! For Noah Hanifin, Mark and a bunch of other guys went to pick him up from the airport, but when Jack was traded to VGK, he was met at the hotel with just the Viva Girls. Mark was met at the airport with the Viva Girls. The Viva girls are the official welcoming party, btw. Everything else is probably who's available / by committee. Hanifin & Hertl got mark bc he was on LTIR. Petro picked up Barbashev i'm pretty sure bc they knew each other from St Louis. Robin took Jack out to eat bc a) he was on LTIR and b) they knew each other from buffalo.

Wild Bill is Marchy's best friend and that's not a joke. Marchy, Karly, Shea (along with Alex Tuch, now in Buffalo and Deryk Engelland, retired) owned a restaurant together. Karly seems quiet, but he's just as funny as Marchy. He loves Star Wars & his dog's name is Obi-Wan.

he danced to abba with his mom

I feel like there's a lot of info about Jack out there, but he really did become uh. More fun in VGK? Now that he's not the guY THE GUY that buffalo expected him to be (connor mcdavid). he proposed the idea of the wig + glasses during the end of the season & post season last year. Jack is SO funny. He loves memes. Idk. I feel like Jack is probably the one Golden Knight that everyone knows the most about and I'm not gonna tread any new ground here.

Shea is just a guy and i love him so much for it. I'm not the best person to ask about it, sorry. He always looks like he's being punished / upset about something except when he's smiling. It's soo cute. When shea took the cup to his house in vancouver, he took pictures of it with his neighbor. VERY sweet guy, very cute.

Logan is VERY CUTE. here he is holding a stick pretending to interview tomas hertl

i LOVE LT. He's got really sick tattoos. He loves shootouts. he and Paul are really good friends.

Chandler Stephenson once said that they had to "just grab our nuts and work." He's very down to earth, very funny. There's a reason why he's my profile pic. I love him so much it's hard to articulate why. Low key. Reasonable. sneaky hilarious.

SO YOU WANT SHIPS ? I can do you some ships:

just a list of ships that i've personally written or considered writing

Alex Pietrangelo / Alec Martinez Paul Cotter / Logan Thompson Jonathan Marchessault / William Karlsson / Reilly Smith Chandler Stephenson / Mark Stone Jack Eichel / Shea Theodore Shea Theodore / Alec Martinez (talk to zimmboniandbitty about this one, i promise) Jack Eichel / Jonathan Marchesault Jack Eichel / Keegan Kolesar Jack Eichel / Mark Stone Logan THompson / Adin Hill Adin Hill / Logan Thompson / Paul Cotter

Literally any combo. If you propose it, i've probably thought about it at least once.

[dansconcepts]

Diner AU - Toasted Bagels

I'm in my Komahina arc clearly so have a drabble of them in context to the Diner AU under the cut. I've got a couple more drabbles with them in this AU but I wouldn't want to make this post too long :'>.

When he first started working here, he didn’t expect to see him there. He was overly familiar with the guy at that point. White hair, a bullshittingly innocent grin, relaxed posture: peak asshole, wrapped up in a guy that became less of an asshole (at least to him). Every day, without fail, he would see Nagito Komaeda at one of the booths. And every day, without fail, he’d be there to get his order (what can he say? He tipped REALLY well). 

The first time he saw him at the diner, he exchanged pleasantries- simple “hey, it’s nice to see you” and “what would you like”s.

“What’s on the menu today, Hajime?” Nagito would ask. Hajime would tell him the special that Rantaro was cooking up, and Nagito would order it, sans certain things. It was interesting to hear, honestly. He was much pickier than he would've thought.

Then, one day, Nagito came in with his arms behind his back.

What immediately tips him off about the strangeness going on is seeing the white-haired man greet him with a mere nod, rather than the wave he does. Even if he didn't do that, he usually saw the guy crossing his arms, or them lazily dropped to his sides. It was always something even if he wasn't doing particularly anything.

The other thing that tips him off, which is perhaps the most obvious thing, are the looks and mild whispers he was getting from the other customers around.

“...Nagito.” The waiter deadpanned.

“Hello, Hajime.” The guy states, that ever-present serene smile on his face as if everything was normal. He almost wants to believe it, if only he didn't give a shit. Unfortunately, he does care.

“Why are your hands behind your back?”

Nagito shrugs. “I got tied up.”

How in the fuck-?! Why do the weirdest things happen to him? “Sorry, you got what?”

“Tied up.” He purses his lips, but he can see the smirk there, the absolute shit- “Do keep up, Hajime.”

“Wh- you don’t get to say that shit when you're tied up! How’d that even happen!? Who was it? I'll go after them right now-!”

“Oh, no no! You don't have to do that. After all, I can't say it was entirely unwarranted. I’m just here for my order anyway.”

The server eyes the other warily. “Your usual?”

Nagito nods. He still sends the other a we're talking about this later don't think you can get out of this look before walking to the back.

The back is always nice. The cook's pretty chill most of the time, and he gets that nice little escape from certain aggravating people for a bit. At the moment, Rantaro's got something cooking up, so he greets the other. Since he's busy, he can definitely prepare it himself. Even though Nagito's a picky guy, he's got pretty simple tastes...

He quickly washes his hands and grabs bagels from its bag.

“Ah, Komaeda's here?” The chef's voice suddenly says.

Hearing the name, he sighs. He turns to see jade eyes peering at him curiously. His favourite thing about Rantaro is the fact that Rantaro's a pretty good listener, and right now- “He showed up with his hands tied behind his back.”

His mouth drops. “Is he okay?”

Hajime waves the concern off, reaching for a plate. “Yeah, yeah, pretty sure he's fine. He's looking way too smug for his situation, so whatever this is about, I'm sure he'll tell me.”

Rantaro's eyes glint, and his lips quirk upward. “Well, good luck then.”

He sets the plate down rougher than he intends to. “Good luck?”

“And try not to jump him, maybe. It is a public space after all-”

Alright, never mind, he wants out after all. He takes a deep breath and quickly opens the fridge, shutting it gentler than he wants to (the last thing he wants to do is break the fridge) to grab the order's drink. “You're enjoying your back of house privilege way too much.”

Green hair rustles as Rantaro shrugs. “What can I say? Not my problem.”

He chuckles. Yeah, that's pretty fair.

Order complete, the waiter takes Nagito's plain white bagels (really fitting for him, honestly) and his common drink (Blue Ram, although he contemplates drinking it himself because his nerves could use it) and leaves it on the table. “Alright, enjoy-”

“Hajime, wait.”

He pauses. “What?” 

“Since I currently can’t use my hands because of the rope, I was wondering if you could feed me?”

“...” He should've drank it. He 100% deserves it.

“I know trash like me has no right to ask you of anything, but I truly haven’t eaten anything since yesterday.” “What the hell?!” He interjects, but Nagito continues, “Unless keeping me starving is your way of punishing me too-”

There is so much to unpack in that one statement, and Hajime chooses to deal with none of it right now. “Okay, okay! I’ll feed you.” 

He grabs a knife to chop off a piece and guides it toward the other's mouth. Komaeda opens and swallows, which causes Hajime's face to warm for some reason? 

“Hajime? Oh, Hajime, you are here. Great.” His coworker's voice suddenly chimes. Hajime turns to find Shuichi, who glances to the other occupant in the booth. “Hello Komaeda.”

“Always a pleasure to see a talented individual like yourself, Saihara.”

Shuichi nods appreciatively and turns back to him. “Makoto was looking for you.” Gray eyes take in the scene before him. “…Are you in the middle of something?”

Hajime whips around. “This is NOT what it looks like.”

“Ah, yes, I’m currently tied up right now and can’t use my arms.”

“Oh! I can get you out of it. What's the material? Handcuffs, zip tie, rope-?”

“It’s standard rope.”

“I’ll get some scissors.”

Ah, of course Shuichi would be familiar with this sort of thing, he's a detective. He probably deals with people being apprehended all the time. Or is that for officers-?

Wait.

Wait a minute.

Oh.

Oh shit.

Hajime wants to hit himself. He did NOT think to free Komaeda whatsoever.

As if on cue, Nagito hums. “Wow, it’s a wonder you didn’t try to cut me out, Hajime. Are you secretly into bondage?”

Hajime scoffs. He looks away, trying to ignore the fact his face is warming. “It’s definitely not that. Don’t overthink it.”

And all Komaeda does is grin.

[what-gs-watching]

“Now, I may be wrong, but frankly, I doubt it.”

So I finished a draft of my new and improved resume today and I’m super jazzed about it. It looks hella professional (jokes on you, recruiters!) and it makes sense in a way my resumes never have before. I’ve got that nice, warm feeling of accomplishment going. Gotta appreciate the little wins where you can. 

Keeping with this nice little boost ( while I listen to 1989 Taylor’s Version), I wanna talk about another comfort show I got into last year. Stay with me here, really.

Murder, She Wrote.

HEAR ME OUT!

Wherein a retired English teacher from a sleepy seaside town in Maine that never gentrifies simultaneously discovers she’s incredible at writing murder mysteries and solving real life murders. 

If you were born in the 80’s like I was, you’ve seen at least pieces of episodes on tv when you were a kid. You could probably recognize the intro music and you most likely think ‘yeah, I’m good on that.’ BUT! But, but, but….

It’s really got everything. Random murders with ridiculous weapons that make you go ‘I really don’t think that would have killed someone’ and dead bodies with very little blood. Like, there’s never blood. And random guest stars you’d never expect. And murderers you can guess sometimes and sometimes you can’t because it’s convoluted or silly but that makes the episode better. But those wily murderers are always, always caught.

And there are TWELVE SEASONS! 264 episodes, running longer than the typical 42 minutes because we used to not shove so many ads down our fucking throats. 

I spent like, nine months making my way through it and it was fantastic. Jessica Fletcher is an absolute badass, and she’s the grandmother figure I didn’t even realize I wanted. This bish is polite to a fault, whip smart, observant, and she faces down murderer after murderer without ever losing her nerve. She is utterly fierce, but kind. And you don’t really get a lot of female characters like that. 

This powerhouse would outwit cops easily, solve their shit with the weirdest clues and seemingly random details, and then she’d make them feel like they did a good job and let them take the credit. She doesn’t want notoriety, she’s already got it through her best sellers, she just wants to help and ultimately catch the bad guy. 

There are so many things I love about this show. It satisfies my pure, unadulterated lust for ridiculous murders, while making you feel cozy as hell. It’s comforting to know that by the end of the episode someone was going down and everything would be wrapped up neatly. Sometimes you need that. 

And the fact that her character is an extremely accomplished writer in the universe is wonderful. Like, she sat down at her kitchen table one day and banged out some incredible book. And then kept doing it. Throughout the series, there’s mention of like THIRTY different books that she wrote. It’s totally implausible, there’s no way she’s writing like two books a year while also running into all these dead bodies but I love it. It makes my heart happy. It makes me want to write something, finally. Something real. 

And y’all. The cameos. THE CAMEOS! Young Courtney Cox. JERRY ORBACH and his entire arc! George freakin’ Clooney. Baby Neil Patrick Harris! That one guy from that thing, and that chick from the other thing! Literally, everyone. I got my sister watching and she was behind me so every couple of days she was getting texts about who popped up. It’s impressive, really. If you were trying to be anyone in the late eighties, early nineties, you had to get your ass on Murder, She Wrote. 

ALSO, Angela Lansbury is amazing. Hell of an actress, talent oozing from her pores. At one point, she plays her own British cousin, and it’s fantastic. She was in her 60’s when the show started! Like, someone gave a 60-year-old actress her own show. She was a ground breaker, a glass shatterer. She was a fucking icon. 

I’m not sure what I’m driving at here really, but the show is just, such a place and time. And that place and time are really beautiful and relaxing and soothing and silly and entertaining. You don’t get shows like this anymore. Everything has to be edgy and dark and foreboding and yeah it’s a show about murder primarily but it doesn’t feel like that. Why can’t we make fluffy murder shows that make you feel like you're just hanging out with your cool aunt, and she’s radiating  the intrinsic knowledge that everything is going to be perfectly fine? Why isn’t that a thing? Are we just that terribly jaded now? 

Jessica Fletcher is a treasure. And she’ll warm your heart from the inside out. If you need to be snug and cozy, Cabot Cove is the place for you. It never changes and it never should and there are no loose ends. It’s just nice. And there isn’t enough nice out there. Trust me, and get it where you can.