#came from nuttin

[satoruhour]

gojo nuttin in you and plugging you up!!!!

a/n: request: “I’m sure you’ve probably done something about it but the way that the idea of gojo coming in you and pulling your panties up after is so IRBDJEHDBEBSBNS makes my brain numb no thoughts off the walls feral” + so im combining these two! uhm. horny devil took over me while writing

warnings: fem!reader, reader is deep in sub-space, semi-public sex, multiple rounds, pet names, calls you ‘slut’, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, lots of cum, n*sfw under the cut

no one really knew where this breeding kink of gojo had come around, not when he was the student talking about how annoying kids were and then got blessed with megumi and tsumiki.

he’d like to think that it wasn’t because he wanted to see little yous and hims running around the house. sure, it definitely was in his future plan, but with everything going on it would be too chaotic, so he’s willing to wait. it unveils itself to him one night after cumming deep in you; it related more to his possessiveness over you—

it rings true when he’s got you riding him in his office chair, the pleasure of his cock deep in you overtaking the discomfort in your thighs. you’ve been holding back for the longest time in the meeting with the higher-ups and the other sorcerers, unable to stop your glances toward your boyfriend while they talked of another emerging curse user.

you jumped him as soon as the meeting was over.

“f . . fuck, baby,” gojo’s breathless as he says it, a thumb to your clit and drawing languid circles. it only prompts your pussy to clench around him and your head falls down to your connected bodies. “hear how sloppy your fuckin’ cunt is, sweets.”

you can both hear and see it, see the drag of your pussy along his length and the pleasurable stretch of your walls around him. your hands go around his neck to play with his hair, messing with the abandoned blindfold resting along his clavicle.

“were you this wet for m-me, for the whole meeting?”

your scrunched up eyes struggle to open as you meet his blue ones, a choked yeah leaves your lips as you continue to bounce on him. there’s sweat lining both your bodies from the clothes still inhabiting your persons, slowly getting soiled from your juices, too.

“oh, baby, you know i would’ve dropped everything to fuck you then and there—” satoru grits his teeth when you tighten around him again and you moan out loud at the words he says. you’re not even sure whether you came, thighs shaking from your mini orgasm that you limp forward into your boyfriend’s arms.

gojo coos into your hair, doing the work now as he fucks into your spent body. the slap of his balls against your ass is obscene, whining into your ears before he starts to rut in short little thrusts again. “cumming— cu—”

gojo’s eyes squeeze shut, hiding his forehead in your neck as he spills deep in you. a deep groan reverberates from his throat, feeling his cum feel you up spurt after spurt and you’re the same, mewling softly beside his ear that only gets him hard again.

“that’s right, take all my cum, baby.” gojo mumbles, drunk on the feel of your pussy before he remembers he has a class to get to.

“you gonna keep my cum in you?” he asks breathlessly, a little softer than he expected to. but his heart soars when you nod obediently, letting him help you put your other leg into your panties. his cum still threatens to spill out, but it’s still better with the fabric barrier.

gojo is disgusting like that, “i’ll see you at home, alright?” he taps your butt playfully, landing a sloppy kiss to your lips and indulges you with a few more pecks.

that one feeling hasn’t left him since the afternoon, determined to pump you full again that he couldn’t even conduct a class properly. all he wanted to do was to rush back to you, with a sweet reward granted to him.

you were so dazed from his cock that you decided it wouldn’t hurt to put on your favourite set under your clothes, tending to your own errands as you wait for your boyfriend to return. so when you’re welcoming him with more touches than usual and a sultry voice to match, he knows he wasn’t the only one with that creampie on his mind.

you aren’t sure what round you’re on by now, pussy feeling so slick and full from how much he’s cummed in you that your mind is fuzzy and muddled.

“like it when i breed you, hm?” he slams into you from above, bed creaking from just how rough he was being. he’s got your body pressed deep into the sheets and your ass up and as usual, he’s got your back arching uncomfortably.

“y— yeah, yeah, s’much, ’toru!” you whine into your hands, feeling your orgasm approach again as you feel like you’re driven to your limit everytime and yet you come back for more. gojo is quick to cum again, cock stilling in you as he pumps you yet again and the sight is so messy.

your ass and pussy is painted with white and gojo grins seeing your hole push out his seed. he purses his lips, scooping up his cum and pushing it back in. and then he’s got you on him again, thrusting into you from below. the strings of his cum stick to your pelvis, paired with your cum pooling at the base of his cock. it’s so sticky and lewd, the squelching sounds of pussy.

“can never get e-enough, of pumping you full, princess.” you groan into thin air, juices spraying everywhere from the sheer amount of it.

“love it— wan’ more, pleasepleaseplease.” you’re out of your mind, driven into oblivion and you think that this truly was your limit, sobbing out your lover’s name when he starts to rub circles along your clit and you’re squirting, hips bucking away from the overstimulation and you grab onto his forearms like a vice.

“good little slut . . mh, squirting all over my cock— s-shit—” you’re cumming so much he can feel it on his thighs, soaking his skin and sheets. the grip you have on his cock is insane, making him so difficult to move that he grunts and stammers, pelvis faltering with a twitch to his dick.

“going to— give you another load, baby.” he mumbles breathlessly, giving one last deep thrust that has your eyes rolling back into your skull and body trembling and you’re so deep into sub-space that you just let him manhandle you roughly. satoru’s hips snap up into you impatiently before he’s cumming deep again, mind turned into mush once ropes and ropes of cum is pushed into your womb. you feel so full, so dumbed down that you don’t notice him scrambling for something in the bedside table.

“got your slutty pussy somethin’,” he whispers. the first pull out of gojo’s cock is gross, a translucent sheen of white covering his shaft from how much he’s cummed in you before he removes himself completely. you gasp at the emptiness, sinking behind into his embrace before you feel full again.

a cute little toy takes the place of his cock, a baby blue plug that is stuffed deep in you and possessiveness is starting to turn into wanting to get you knocked up. gojo isn’t sure any more.

your boyfriend prompts you to look down, caressing your thighs as he hums into your ears and you shiver lightly.

“need you to keep every last drop — can you do that, baby?” you feel him smile against your lips when you turn your head to kiss him, an affirmative response muttered against his lips together with a confession.

tagging @hyomagiri @jabamin @shotorus @satohruu :3

[starkeyisthelastname]

Rafe w plus-sized/chubby reader, pretty pleeeease??

“Them stretch marks im nuttin all over.”

You read the text message over and over again. Your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you sat down on the edge of your bed. The way the heat was rushing to your core in such a fast manner, had you concerned. No man had ever made you feel this way especially a man this gorgeous. His name was Rafe and you had met him on Tinder of all places.

You had been in so many failed relationships that you were done trying, but of course there was only so long you could go with just using your rose toy. And while that little thing was amazing, you did miss the feeling of sex. Signing up for Tinder, you promised yourself that you were not looking for a relationship and merely only wanted to see if you could find a potential friends with benefits. You had never had one, always falling into these too quickly.

You weren’t exactly confident, your weight always getting in the way. Something you had struggled with as long as you could remember. You had a tummy, rolls, stretch marks, your face always being too round. You hated the fact men turned you away when asking for a picture of your body.

Rafe was muscular with light tan skin and gorgeous blue eyes. His profile read that he was 6’2, he worked at his dad’s business and he was looking for something causal. You thought you had nothing to lose and swiped right on his profile, not thinking anything of it. You were sure he wouldn’t give you the time of day.

You had just gotten out of the shower when you saw the notification.

You matched with Rafe!

Rafe sent you a message

Matched? You were in shock as you opened up the message hoping it wouldn’t scare him off that you were messaging him back so quickly. The two of you started off casual, making small conversation to learn a little about one another even exchanging numbers. It then led to being flirtatious, him causing your pussy to feel butterflies. He asked what you liked in bed, your turn ons, what made you feel good. When he asked for a picture of your body, you immediately got anxious. Normally you’d block the guy no matter how hot they were.

Sending him a full body picture of you and explaining that you had stretch marks, and cellulite and weren’t skinny by any means. You sat on the edge of your bed nervously. It took him a minute to reply, making you wonder if he got grossed out. But as soon as that text message came in, your eyes widened. Reading it over and over, you didn’t know how to reply.

Your phone dinged again, this time with an address. Was this really going to happen? As nervous as you were, you found yourself typing back a response.

“You want me to come over?” You bit your lip, waiting for a response. The typing bubbles appeared, only to disappear a few seconds after. Your phone buzzed in your hand, a video now having been sent from his end. You took a deep breath, clicking the play button where it turned to full screen. Your eyes widened as the camera focused on his grey sweatpants, the clear outline of a huge dick now in the frame. You instantly felt the ache run straight to your core, wanting to see more of it.

“What do you think? Let me put this in you, pretty girl.” The message below the video said.

You rang the doorbell, nervously rocking on your heels as you waited. This wasn't the best idea you had ever had. He could be a crazy person for all you knew. The house was rather dark and you didn't see much movement. You pulled out your phone to start to text him when you heard the sound of a door being opened.

You looked up to see him standing there. He was tall, his profile height being right. His eyes were the bluest shade you had ever seen, staring at you with the sexiest smirk. He was shirtless, toned abs making your mouth water as you couldn't help but glance at him.

“Hi.” You squeaked nervously.

“Hey.” His voice deep, making you want to cum right then and there. You swallowed the lump in your throat, stepping in the house as he opened the door wider. You looked around, the house neat with neutral colors. He cleared his throat, walking past you towards the living room. “Let me turn this off real quick and we will go upstairs.” He said, grabbing the remote and turning the tv off.

He led you up the stairs and down the hall to what you presumed to be his bedroom. It was surprisingly clean, and smelled of cedar and his cologne. He shut the door, walking past you to sit on the edge of the bed. You sat your purse down on the end of the dresser, hands folding in front of you in nerves.

“Come here.” He rasped out, eyes raking over you as you stepped closer to him. He roughly grabbed your hips to pull you between his legs, hand running down to grip your ass. “Don’t be shy with me. Alright? You’re fucking beautiful.” He said.

You had never felt or seen a dick so big. Your head hung down, flushed cheek pressed into the mattress as Rafe pounded you from behind. This position was almost too much for you, making you grab the sheets to almost pull away.

“Where you going, huh? Don’t start fucking runnin from me.” His voice about the sexiest thing you had ever heard. You felt his large hand come to your head, yanking your hair back in a tight fist. You let out a loud moan, eyes rolling back as he forced you to look up at him.

“Open your fucking mouth.” Rafe spat, gripping your jaw to force apart. You did exactly as you were told, not having much of a choice as he spit directly onto your tongue. You felt completely degraded, exactly one of your kinks you told him you had. He was not playing around with you, and the chokehold this man had you on was crazy.

He chuckled, leaning down to capture your tongue with his in a messy kiss, your poor cunt being drilled by his massive length at a constant pace. You whined against his mouth, pussy clenching around his cock as you already began to squirt against him and the sheets below.

“Shit.. you like ruining my sheets and shit?” His voice hoarse, reaching down to slap your thick ass cheek roughly.

All you could do was nod, head pounding from the still tight grip on your hair. You had completely came undone in just a short amount of time. The insecurities you had felt before had disappeared for the time being, Rafe worshipping your curves by fucking you exactly how you had wanted.

[impala-dreamer]

Pondering Fate While Ignoring The Obvious

A Ten Inch Hero Story

~Priestly has got it so bad for Tish that he can barely see past the end of her... well, her back end, anyway. He's love sick and forever rejected, constantly stuck inside his own head. When a new girl in town starts messing with him, he quickly loses his cool...~

Boaz Priestly x F!Reader

2,511 Words

Warnings: Nuttin' but fluff and banter. ;)

A/N: This is another square for my @jacklesversebingo card. The prompt is "Backhanded Compliment/Convenience Store/Sugar Addict"

Now listen- I've never written for this movie before, but I had so much fun doing it. If you've seen the movie, I think you'll love this. If you haven't seen it, you may not totally get it, but you'll still love it because it's cute and fluffy and I said so. Give it a chance ;)

Another day, another spicy Italian with no oil and no vinegar. How you could eat a hero dry was a question he could never quite grasp the answer to, but in the end, did another weird order really matter? He’d put a condom on the bun if they asked for it. Maybe not a used one, but then again, Tish was looking extra spicy herself today.

Tish. Goddamnit. There she goes flirting with every male in existence except him. There she is leaning over the counter in that not-so-sneaky way that pushes her tits up and out, giving everyone and their mother a look into the valley of the Promised Land. 

For fuck’s sake, if she’d only do that for him. 

Then again, nothin’ he hadn’t seen before. 

Fingers snapped in front of his face and Priestly blinked himself back into reality. 

“Can I help you?” he asked, still half dazed and half hard after staring so intently at his coworker. 

Piper sighed. “Yeah. You gotta make a run down the street.” 

He sighed harder. “You know, you ladies are capable of patronizing the convenience store now and then. It’s not really hard. You just pick out what you need and exchange it for cash.” 

The tiny blonde pouted and batted her lashes. “Please? My feet hurt from standing all day.” 

He scoffed. “And mine don't?” 

“I’m not used to it. I’m delicate.” 

Priestly scratched at the bright green spikes that sat atop his head for the day, masquerading as a hairstyle. He frowned but relented. “Fine. Gimme the list.” 

He saw her from the street. He wasn’t purposely peeping through the window like a stalker, but he felt like it all the same. It wasn’t his fault, not really. Things mostly stayed the same around town, so when something was different, when someone new showed up, it tended to stick out a bit. 

The new girl at the register was cute, not particularly daring in her style or makeup palette, but she was attractive. Probably the thing Priestly noticed first was the lollipop stick hanging from her painted lips. 

His entrance was announced by the jangling of bells and she looked up as he came in. She smiled around the pop and twirled the white paper stick between her fingers. 

“Welcome.” 

He looked back at her over his shoulder and nodded. “Hey.” 

Slowly, she pulled the treat from her mouth and licked the very tip. Her tongue was as red as the pop and Priestley was sure that his cheeks were turning the same shade. He cleared his throat quickly and turned back, going about his business. 

The store was otherwise empty except for Mr. Jacobson, the old man who never seemed to go anywhere but was always wherever you went. He was currently lingering at the end of the aisle, amazed at the sheer amount of chip flavors the new millennium had to offer. 

“Back in my day we had regular and salt & vinegar, and we were grateful!”

Priestly laughed under his breath and looked over the rack at the register. She was laughing softly as well, and when their eyes met, she didn’t shy away. 

He did; quickly tearing his gaze from the cherry pop and focusing on the aluminum foil instead. There was no use flirting with her anyway- she’d never go for him. She looked too normal, too pretty to fall for his shenanigans. Best not to even think about it. 

Arms fully stocked, he headed her way, keeping his eyes on the black and gray tiled floor and praying she wouldn’t make his heart race any faster. 

She sucked hard on the Blow Pop and then took a bite, making him jump. Sugar crackled between her teeth and she winked.

“I hope you overcharge them,” she said dryly, staring him down. 

Confusion took the place of shyness and Priestly’s face scrunched up. “What?” he snapped, jerking away from the counter. 

The girl rolled her eyes and went about ringing up his order without another word. 

Cash exchanged, Priestly thanked her and walked out, still wondering what the hell she was talking about. 

Monday. 

Priestly stared out the front window, wondering if the day was going to go his way or not. He knew he shouldn’t bother pondering the Fates, because they always seemed against him, but he liked to think he had some hope tucked away somewhere beneath the Manic Panic hair dye and all the metal sticking out of his head. If there was, he couldn’t find any today. 

Tish was late, as usual, probably rolling out of some strange guy’s arms and fishing for her bra underneath the bed. 

Someday… someday, that’d be his bed she was searching under. Someday, those would be his arms she rolled out of. He just had to keep hoping.

Or not. He really didn’t care. 

The sun was too bright, the grill was too hot. He hated everything. 

Except the sound of bubblegum popping behind him. He didn’t seem to hate that. 

With spatula in hand, he turned and startled just enough to make the bubblegum appear between coyly smiling pink lips. 

“Hey.” 

Priestley squinted. “You’re that chick from the store.” 

Annoyance crept onto her face. “And you’re that dude with too much eyeliner.” 

He laughed before realizing she was insulting him and ended up jolting up on his toes awkwardly, half a smile curled on his lip. 

He cleared his throat. “Priestly.”

She squinted. “Like Elvis?” 

He shrugged. “And you are?” 

“Hungry.” 

Slapping a five on the counter, she picked up her hero and spun away, heading toward the door. She turned to push it open with her backside and popped her gum again. 

Her eyes were glued to him and Priestly felt his stomach flip. He met her gaze and she smiled. 

“I always do.” 

He wanted to say something, to ask her what the hell she was talking about, but she was gone before the words reached his tongue. 

“Always do what?” 

Jen turned her head his way, but her eyes were still locked on the computer screen. “What’s up?” 

He sighed. “Nothing. Just a weird girl from…nothing.”

It was nothing. She was just the weird girl from down the street. And anyway, he was supposed to be hating everything today, not shifting his ponderance to the mystery of the gum chewing, pop crunching girl from the convenience store. 

“Nothing.”  

Blue hair; don’t care. 

Priestly cracked an egg on the grill and watched the edges sizzle. He wasn’t great at a lot of things, but cooking eggs was something he did exceptionally well. The butter bubbled around the perimeter, curling the whites just slightly, and he pushed the tip of his spatula against it. 

Not ready yet. 

The girls were, yet again, chatting about men, and he kept one ear on the sizzle and the other in their conversation. 

“I just don’t understand how hard it is to find. It’s right there.” Tish laughed and pushed a delicate hand back through her hair. “It’s a clit, not the Holy Grail.” 

Priestly raised a brow. “Some would call it that though,” he interjected. 

She rolled her eyes. “You would.”

Offended, he sucked in a quick breath. “Ya know something-” 

She turned, one hand on her hip, waiting. “Yeah?”  

His lips pursed and dejected, he turned back to the grill. “Forget it.” 

“Thought so,” she laughed. 

God, she was such a bitch sometimes. OK, most times, but still.

Tish went back to leaning on the counter and he took the opportunity to peek at her ass. 

Behind him, a throat was cleared. 

Priestly sighed, knowing what was waiting for him when he turned. Or, rather, who. 

“You again.” He batted his lashes. 

She smacked her lips. “Me again.” From her pocket, she withdrew a pink Starburst and fiddled with the wrapper. 

He eyed the candy and followed it to her mouth. Her lips were darker today and it reminded him of the cherry pop. “You eat too much sugar, you know that?”

She smiled gently. “And you dye your hair too much. That isn’t good for you. All those chemicals are gonna fry your brain.” 

“Joke’s on you, it’s already fried- shit!” Fried egg. Burnt to a crisp. “Damnit.” 

Sugar Girl swallowed a laugh and the Starburst. 

He turned around, annoyed at himself and her laughter. “Are you- do you want something?” 

“Yup.” She nodded and took her order from Piper, who was holding a small, paper-wrapped hero. “Thanks.” 

Green eyes narrowed on her smile. She was weird. Way too weird. And kinda rude. 

“You ever gonna tell me your name?” he asked, calling out as she pushed open the door. 

“Sure,” she replied, “Soon as I get my free sample.” 

“Huh?” 

Confusion always seemed to linger when she left, that and the smell of strawberries. Or cherries, or whatever she’d been sucking on. 

Sucking on…

His eyes flickered over to Tish and he wondered if she was as good at sucking things as she claimed.

It was raining and he was cranky. 

He’d missed his alarm, the car wouldn’t start, and a passing bus nearly drenched him head to toe. 

It wasn’t supposed to rain at the beach. It was practically against the law. Nature’s law, anyway. 

And to top it all off, Tish was bragging about the amazing night she’d had with a handsome stranger visiting from New York. 

“He’s just in town for a few days, so it’s nothing serious,” she explained to a wide-eyed Piper who was drinking down every word. “But man, I wouldn’t be mad if it was. He’s… tall and handsome and-” 

Priestly cleared his throat. “Ya know I’m pretty tall.” 

She clicked her tongue. “And?” 

His heart ached at her callousness. “And… just thought I’d remind you.”

Maybe she didn’t know what she was doing to him, but he thought his advances were fairly obvious. Maybe she was just a bitch.

Jen derailed his thought train with a shopping list she’d printed out. 

He shook his head. “No.” 

“Please?”

The shop on the corner was the last place he wanted to go. Nameless Sugar Girl was the last person he wanted to see. “Why do I always have to go?” He pouted and gestured to the window. “It’s pouring rain out there.” 

Jen looked up with puppy-dog eyes. “Which is why I’m asking you to please go.” 

A heavy sigh was his only reply. Priestly grabbed the paper from her hand, crumpling it beyond repair, and set out into the downpour. 

He was dripping by the time he made it down the street. He sneered at the water on his face, rolled his eyes at the welcome mat, swatted viciously at the bells as they rang above his head. 

“Rough morning?” she asked, watching his huffy entrance. 

He scowled. “You could say that.” 

A peppermint rolled on her tongue and the red and white stripes caught his eye. “Well, lemme know if you need any assistance.” 

Priestly ran a hand through his teal-tinted hair and shook out a puddle’s worth of rain. “Yeah. Thanks.” 

It took him a while to collect the goods, having trouble finding the right paper towels that would fit into the holder in the bathrooms. He’d never had any issues in the store before; seemed like someone had rearranged. 

Someone. 

He looked across the rows of sundries and wondered what her deal was. Hell, he still didn’t even know her name. Not that he wanted to, of course. 

Of course. 

Finally, and with much annoyance, he arrived at the register. 

She laughed softly as he unloaded his arms. 

He shook his head. “What?” 

“I… I shouldn’t even touch this one.” 

He had no clue what she was talking about, he never did, and he was at the end of his rope. 

His patience snapped. “What?”

She sat back, clearly hurt by his tone. “Your shirt.” 

She pointed at his chest and he looked down, reading the big black letters upside down. 

‘Save a tree, eat a beaver’

His shoulders fell. “Oh. Yeah. Whatever.” 

“Yeah,” she echoed, the sting heavy in her voice. “Whatever.” 

He couldn’t take it anymore. Dropping a can of coffee onto the counter, he slapped his palms down on either side of it and leaned in. 

“Ya know, everytime I see you, you’ve got something snarky to say.”

Her eyes went wide. “Snarky?” She frowned. “I thought I was flirting.” 

The fight drained out of him along with the blood in his cheeks. Confused once more. “Uh… what?” 

Pushing herself up off the stool, she mirrored his pose, hands falling dangerously close to his. “Flirting,” she said again. “It’s an ancient ritual in which a sexually interested party attempts to lure their prey into bed with witty and charming wordplay.”

He balked. “I know what flirting is!” 

She glared. “Then why haven’t you picked up on the fact that I’ve been trying to pick you up for weeks now?”

“I uh…” His elbows buckled and he stood up fully. “You have?” No way. She wasn’t…

Memories of the past month flooded his mind. Each time he’d seen her she was smiling at him, not being snarky. She was teasing him, answering the ridiculous sayings on his shirt. 

‘I sell crack for the CIA.’ … “I hope you overcharge them”

‘Surf naked.’ … “I always do.” 

‘Orgasm Donor - Ask for your free sample’ … “As soon as I get my free sample.”

It had been smacking him in the damned face and he hadn’t seen it. She had been playing with him the whole time, not trying to annoy him. She wanted him to notice her, but he was too busy dreaming of Tish, wondering when she’d notice him. 

He sucked in a stunned breath. “You have. Wow.”

A tiny smile returned to her cherry lips. “Come on, I know you’re not as dumb as your fashion sense implies.”

Priestly felt a dip in his gut, something fluttering around inside. He grinned. “Oh, I’m way dumber.” 

Reaching across the counter, she grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him close. “Good.”

Her lips were soft, the kiss as sweet as the candy she was always eating. He breathed her in as her tongue swept over his.  He was stunned, confused but in a good way. Maybe he needed to push Tish aside and pay more attention to the world around him. Maybe this was a good thing. A really good thing. His eyebrows raised in surprise, his blood pressure raised even higher.

She pulled away slowly, her lips lingering on his. 

“You get it now?” 

She waited, blinking at him with the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. He should have looked sooner, closer; should have given her a chance.  

“Yeah,” he whispered in a laugh. “I think I do.” 

Another kiss, a press of her hand at the nape of his neck. 

“You ever gonna tell me your name?” 

She smiled. “Y/N.”

He reached for her cheek; fingers landing lightly on her soft skin. 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” 

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[fountainpenguin]

"I wanna hold you, baby, 'cuz I'm gonna miss you like crazy even if I'm halfway around the world~!" (x)

One and a Half Birds

💙 Read on AO3

🧡 Complete! - 15/15 chapters - 113k words

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

A server hub story about Mumbo proposing the soul-eating dynamic to Grian before they roleplay it... and Grian fretting over what might happen when he reveals his soul is purple, not blue like everyone else's in this world.

Newbie pictures, creeper biology, hungry phantom hybrids, Watcher Grian drama, and Minecraft surgery await in this hurt/comfort story of friendship and communication.

ft. platonic Buttercups (Grian, Mumbo, Scar) with flirty Ahasbands (Martyn/Mumbo) working out their post-Last Life relationship on the side. Super pleased with how it came out. Enjoy!

(First 1,000 words below the cut)

One and a Half Birds

Baby Pictures

💙  🧡  💚

The thing about Grian is that he has a tendency to buck his head, throwing it back any time he explodes in laughter. It's better than the feel of his jagged fingernails curling tight against your arm and only slightly easier to duck than his flapping wings. Mumbo leans sideways, clutching his drink near his chest, as Grian does exactly what he always does: which is, of course, all three. "Pfffft! Oh, Scaaar! Wow… I never- I never knew you were such a little nerd back in your newbie days! What is up with your hair? Is that white dye?"

Careful, Grian… I really, really don't want to spill this all over your lovely couch. Grian's actually got a nice flat for someone who rarely lingers here while in Between. Mumbo cups one hand around his wooden cup, catching a droplet before it can splatter on a throw pillow.

"Hey, hey," Scar protests, leaning forward. Grian and Mumbo are on the couch, but Scar is standing with one hand inside his jacket pocket. Grian's still got a finger jabbing at the screenshot in the scrapbook. It probably looks upside-down to Scar. That fits.

The sheepish boy in the picture (who's dangling upside-down himself from an oak branch) is grinning at his own reflection in the pond below. He's a whole lot younger than the Scar standing in front of them now. If you squint, you can see the places he hadn't quite grown into his own skin. The blue wings flapping at his shoulders are smaller, but much brighter in color. Definitely an allay hybrid in a way the vex standing before them isn't.

"You look like Victor Frankenstein."

"That was 700 years ago! Don't be picking on a man's looks. Little Scar can't even defend himself!"

"Little Scar can't do nuttin' to me. I'll talk about his silly hair all I like."

Scar surges forward, scooping Grian behind the back and under the legs. Grian's wings snap out. He hardly has time to yelp before Scar flips him backwards off the couch. Mumbo's brows shoot into his hair. Grian scrabbles with his fingertips, howling and gasping, and Scar springs knee-first on the cushions to grab his wrists. Their pixels slam together, spurting sparks, and Grian (knees already on the ground) tilts back his head. Scar draws in close, breathing slow, until his mouth is practically brushing Grian's ear.

"Long… live… the king."

With that, he shoves Grian to the floor with a thud. Grian doesn't get up, but lies there like a fish, crumpled in his own jumper. Mumbo chuckles.

"Never a dull moment with you two, huh? … You wanna see my newbie pictures?"

That does get Grian off the floor. Scar drops down on the cushion beside him and Grian pops up from behind the couch, arms folded on the back of it. Mumbo flips through the pages in his own book, looking for one in particular he's not even sure he still has. He's only a couple in when Grian slams down his hand, crowing laughter.

"You're younger than me, Mumbo! Why do you look like an old man?"

It's true. He sort of does, doesn't he? Wrinkled forehead, dark and squinty eyes… He's even wearing a bowtie in most of these, though back then he hadn't picked out the three-piece suit he often wears in public now. Mostly white button-ups. Occasionally his full wandering trader robes. Mumbo got his start much younger than Scar did, though he's not sure he can say the same for Grian.

He squints, running his thumb down the corner of one screenshot in particular. Unlike Scar's pictures from his first singleplayer, most of his were taken in the Between dimension. Huh. His home village of Little Sun has changed quite a lot, actually, from what it used to be… but the spawn temple with its little teal and turquoise banners is still the same.

And yet… I still have Double-U and Buzz. His llamas have stayed beside him all his off-server life. Their white wool still flourishes, accented with familiar pale brown spots like chunks of cookie dough in vanilla ice cream. The spots shift around between their respawns, but the long lashes and affectionate headbutts are always the same. Speaking of the girls, he should send False a whisper to confirm she actually did check on them tonight. He doesn't doubt her… His comm just hasn't pinged with an incoming message yet.

"You look like Etho," Scar observes, indicating the red scarf wrapped around his mouth in one screenshot on the next page.

"Sorry- I just can't get over how old and tired you look, Mumbo… I doubt you'd even made it to the Far Lands back then, but this fella already looks like he's seen too much."

"Oh, go on, then!" Mumbo claps the book shut. "Let's see your newbie screenshots."

All the energy whirls out of Grian chest in that moment. "My what?"

"Yeah! Let's do that!" Scar throws an arm around him, double punching Grian in the shoulder so hard, he flashes red. "C'mon, G! Get the book! You know, I half believe you spawned into existence without ever being a newbie account. I've literally never heard you talk about your spawn temple."

"Um-"

Mumbo concurs with a lift of his drink, like making a toast. "Look, you can't talk smack and then leave us hanging, bud. That just ain't bro!" (Is he saying that right? The whole 'dragon bro' bit was always a mite difficult to wrap his head around).

"… Right. Uh, let me just…" Grian pushes away from the couch, sliding his hands into his pockets. Mumbo watches his tongue press against the inside of his cheek. "Right, okay… Let me just ask Two where he last put it…"

Mumbo and Scar let him go, both craning their heads to follow Grian along the corridor with their eyes anyway. Two, BadTime, and Drone are all in Two's room frosting cookies and making party plans. Mumbo watches Grian twist the doorknob, then returns his attention to the book of screenshots in his lap. You know, there are some really nice ones in here. His only regret may be not taking more while he had the chance.

I like to think I grew up nice, actually… And then, Why aren't WE having a party in pajamas? Don't get him wrong, because he loves his suspenders and Scar likes his jacket (and Grian is, well, Grian), but…

"Scar? We're missing out, bud."

"S'cuse me?"

"No pajamas."

"Oh… Next time!"

[Full story on AO3 - Link at top]

[carlosfromwa1997]

LETTING MY MIND FLOW // SHE GOT DOUBLE D’S I CALL IT A DRUG BUST BUT I AINT SLIPPIN OVER LUST IN GOD WE TRUST PLUS I CAME FROM THE BOTTOM WHO DO YA THINK YOU TOUCHING BUSTIN IN YA GIRLS FACE YOU KNOW IM GOOD FOR NUTTIN/NOTHIN.

[pengychan]

[The Great Ace Attorney] A Case of Identity - Ch. 9

Summary: On that fateful night in Lowgate cemetery, the bullet finds its target in Enoch Drebber. When he awakens he’s locked behind an iron mask, facing a lifetime of imprisonment as the mass murderer who survived a botched execution - the Professor. However, help is afoot. Characters: Enoch Drebber, Esmeralda Tusspells, Herlock Sholmes, Yujin Mikotoba, Tobias Gregson, Gina Lestrade, Mael Stronghart Rating: T Prologue and all other chapters will be tagged as ‘case of identity’ on my blog.

A/N: Is this update late? Yes. Do I have excuses? No. Sorry, guys.

***

“I don’t know nuttin’. I ain’t no diver.”

“You bragged about being the best diver in the East End not five minutes ago.”

“I lied.”

“Uuuugh.”

As Gina Lestrade stuffed yet another buttered crumpet in her mouth - Sholmes had added a generous dollop of honey on each, for good measure, before disappearing in the kitchen - Inspector Gregson seemed remarkably close to tearing his own hair out. Mikotoba half-expected him to explode, but he seemed to be making an herculean effort to remain calm. 

Well. Relatively calm. Mikotoba suspected the man had not been entirely calm a single day in his life, at least since joining Scotland Yard.

“Gina, you are not in trouble,” Mikotoba said, Iris safely asleep in the crook of his arm. The statement gained him a doubtful look; the child seemed still unsure, although hot tea and crumpets had done a lot to lower her guard. Come to think of it, she must have been ravenously hungry; who knew when she’d last had a proper hot meal. 

“You said the’ Yard’s lookin’ for me,” the girl replied, eyes turning back to the sketch on the small table before the armchair she was huddled on. She couldn’t read what was written on it, but she could recognize her face, and she could tell what it meant - she was a wanted person across London. 

“... Well. You may be in trouble with Scotland Yard, sure enough, but you are safe here and we’re going to help you. Most of all, we want to understand why they’re looking for you. The Inspector here has a theory, and--”

“You brought me ‘ere,'' Gina cut him off, turning to look at Gregson, narrowing her eyes. She seemed wary, but most of all confused. “If you’re from the Yard, why hide me?”

Gregson set his jaw a moment before answering. “The Lord Chief Justice wouldn’t start a large-scale manhunt for a simple diver, sunshine. Something about all this smells off.”

“Like th’ fish in your pocket?”

“Yes, sort of-- how do you know what’s in my pockets?”

“I checked. While you carried me.”

Gregson’s face flushed red. “I thought you were barely conscious!”

She seemed awfully pleased by the reaction. “I was.”

“Then how--”

“I’m the best diver in all of th’ East End. Cleanin’ pockets in my sleep.”

“So you admit you’re a diver!”

“... Maaaaybe.”

Gregson leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Well, sunshine. Maybe you took something from the pockets of the wrong man, and maybe this someone is the most powerful individual in London bar the Queen and the Prime Minister, and maybe he’s determined to get to you so he can have it back. So maybe, if you came clean and told us what it is, we may be able to help you out of this mess. What do you say?”

Gina looked back at him, and the self-satisfied expression faltered. Mikotoba could see the realization sinking in: she was in over her head into something much bigger than herself, and no amount of pickpocketing skills and disappearing acts in dimly-lit alleys was going to be enough to get her out of it. She looked down, and swallowed. “I--”

“LUNCH!” 

The kitchen door was thrown open and Sholmes came in, surrounded by a frankly concerning amount of smoke. He was carrying four plates in precarious balance, each of them full of horribly burnt sausages and eggs.

Gregson groaned. “Sholmes, we’re trying to--”

“Can’t solve a case on an empty stomach!” Sholmes declared, putting down the plates. “Isn’t that right, my good doctor?”

Mikotoba, who had precisely no intention to put anything cooked by Sholmes in his mouth - a sentiment shared by Gregson, going by the look on his face - nodded. “Of course. But the crumpets were quite enough for me, I believe they’ll see me through until dinner tim--”

“I’ll have his part,” Gina said, and unceremoniously snatched the plate. To Sholmes’ obvious delight she dove in, shoving food in her mouth without a single comment on how badly burned it was. It would have been an amusing sight, if not for the thought that crossed Mikotoba’s mind again.

How long has she truly gone without a filling meal?

“See, that’s the spirit,” Sholmes grinned, and sat across from her. “Perhaps you’re in a better mood for conversation now that your hunger is being sated?”

Gina looked over, chewing on some sausage. She seemed to debate whether to respond for a moment, then shrugged. “... So if I stole somethin’ important, why do you want it? Why not let Lord Whatshisface have it?”

“You see, Miss Lestrade,” Sholmes said with a smile, putting more woefully burnt scrambled eggs on her plate from Gregson’s own untouched one. “We believe the Lord Chief Justice has done something quite horrible to an innocent man - leaving him to languish in prison for crimes he did not commit.”

Gina frowned, and stuck another forkful of food in her mouth before speaking through it. “Wot’s that to do wit’ me?”

“We believe that whatever you… relieved him of that day at the docks is crucial evidence of his misdeed; at least, the timing and circumstances suggest so. That is likely why he’s so desperate to have it back. Now, if we could get our hands on it instead, we could make sure he’s exposed and the man he wronged is released from prison. It would be vital evidence.”

Gina Lestrade rolled her eyes, but had the good grace to swallow her mouthful of burnt egg before she scoffed. Loudly. “You’re bein’ funny just now,” she muttered, causing Gregson to frown. 

“Can’t see what’s so funny about it, sunshine.”

“You said he’s th’ most powerful man in London. Wot’s evidence goin’ to do?”

There was an undeniable truth to her words, and she had hit a sore spot, if the way Inspector Gregson flinched was of any indication. “Well… it’s… in a court of law…”

“He’s a Lord, innit? The likes o’ im don’t care ‘bout evidence. They get away all the time.”

A brief silence, then Gregson straightened himself, pulling the brim of his hat down over his eyes. “... Not this time, sunshine. You have my word. He won’t get away with this.”

She wrinkled her nose. “... Ain’t he your boss?”

“That will make no difference. If he did what we suspect he has done, he ought to pay. And I will not under any circumstances let him get his hands on you.”

“That’s rich. A copper protectin’ a diver.”

“You’re just a little girl.”

A forkful of egg stopped in mid-air, and Gina stared back at Inspector Gregson as though struck. For a moment Mikotoba expected her to protest - say that she was not a little girl, she was the best diver the East End had ever seen - but instead she kept staring in silence for a few moments, mouth slightly agape, before looking down. She didn’t seem insulted: just taken aback, and oddly saddened. In the middle of the large armchair she looked smaller than ever, and something in Mikotoba’s chest ached. It must have been a long time indeed since she last got to be just a little girl with someone to protect her - if she ever had been.

Please, Yujin. Find the woman and help her child. It’s the last favor I can ask of you.

Mikotoba swallowed, looking down at Iris’ sleeping face. It took him a dreadful effort to push all thoughts of Genshin out of his mind, and focus on Sholmes’ voice as he spoke. 

“You have nothing to worry about, Miss Lestrade,” He grinned at her. “You have a copper, soon to be world-famous detective, and a doctor at your service. I daresay you’re safer than the Queen herself. We would however appreciate your help in solving this case, so we can remove this threat to your safety altogether.”

Gina hesitated, and turned back to Mikotoba. She seemed to me most reassured by him, perhaps on account of having seen him with a baby in his arms almost as soon as she awoke. He smiled. 

“We would be very grateful indeed if you could tell us all you know.”

“I…” a sigh, and she scowled down at her half-empty plate. “I don’t recall,” she finally mumbled.

“Don’t recall?”

“... I was at the docks. As you said. I remember that.”

“That must have been when you picked the Lord Chief Justice’s pockets clean,” Gregson muttered, and the child nodded.

“Hu-uh. Was lookin’ for a good target.”

“Awful choice there. And then?”

“Nuttin’.”

Gregson frowned, leaning forward. “What do you mean, nothing! You surely did something, or else we wouldn’t all be in this mess!”

“I don’t remember nuttin’! I was at th’ docks and then-- I remember lots o’ water. Cold.”

All annoyance vanished from Gregson’s face, and he leaned back in his seat. “Ah, yes. You…” He shifted a little, as though uncomfortable. “You fell in the Thames.”

“There was a nurse… a nice lady… there was you. You carried me. Said you’d keep me safe.”

Gregson cleared his throat. “Yes, well-- I do intend to,” he mumbled, pulling down the brim of his hat. Sitting next to him, Sholmes smiled brightly and clapped his hands. 

“Well! It seems you forgot quite a bit about that eventful day, Miss Lestrade. And all the relevant things to our case too! Unfortunate, that. What’s the doctor’s take on it?”

Mikotoba reached to put a hand on Gina’s upper back. “It’s not uncommon, after a traumatic experience. And she had a fever, too. It usually comes back after some time and rest.”

“So I’m goin’ to remember?”

“I’m sure you will, and if you could tell us all you recall we’d be very grateful.”

“... I see. So that’s the catch.”

Mikotoba shook his head. “There is no catch. You don’t have to earn our help. If you cannot recall, we’ll find another way to solve the case and keep you safe. Isn’t that right, Sholmes?”

“Of course!” Sholmes gave an enthusiastic nod. “My fair lady, we wouldn’t dream of leaving you to fend for yourself against the might of Britain’s judicial system incarnate! And besides, Inspector Gregson here is more than ready to cover my fee out of his own pocket. Oh! Gregson! I have mentioned I have been considering changing to an hourly fee?”

“What, you-- agh--! I mean-- uuuugh!” Gregson rubbed his face, which had seemed to rapidly turn into several different colors under Gina’s puzzled gaze. “I mean-- yes. Of course. There is no catch for you, sunshine,” he forced out. “But for my sanity’s sake, try to remember.”

Gina laughed. It was a sudden sound, and it caused Iris to startle with a surprised sound. Gregson grumbled, but he didn’t complain again as Gina muttered “deal” and shoved another forkful of eggs in her mouth.

***

“Of course you realize, we can’t just sit around and wait for her to remember before we act.”

“Well, I for one am not sitting. You should try spending a couple of hours a day upside down on your chair, Inspector. All that blood to your head will clear your thoughts wonderfully! Or make you black out. But the return to consciousness may just bring forth an epiphany!”

Tobias Gregson, who at the moment very much wished he had followed the family tradition as shopkeepers and never became an Inspector at all, glared at the spot where Sholmes’ head would have been had he not decided to turn upside down like a circus monkey. “What I am saying is that we have no time to waste!” he snapped at the detective’s slippers. 

“Ah, did I get you concerned about my new hourly fee policy, Inspector?”

“There is a man locked in prison as we speak, in case you forgot.”

“Oh! Of course, Mr. Drebber. I almost did forget.”

“Remarkable, considering that you have his head in your living room,” Gregson grunted, and turned to look at the head in question. It had been moved from the table and was covered with a cloth before Gina Lestrade could see it, but its presence remained unnerving.

“Well, not quite his head. It’s a wax replica, made with remarkable craftsmanship and-- ah, Mikotoba! Both our guests are back to sleep, I hope?”

“Indeed. Both Gina and Iris are back in bed. Sholmes, you really should stop doing that.”

“It gets all the blood flowing to the brain, and helps me think better!”

“That is not how this works.”

“How would you know?”

“I have a degree in medicine, for one.”

“Ah, yes. That is why I call you ‘my good doctor’, after all.” With a sigh and a movement that frankly should not have been possible in Gregson’s opinion, Sholmes returned to a normal sitting position on the armchair. “Well. The Inspector here was saying we cannot wait for the young lady’s memory to return.”

Mikotoba looked over at Gregson with a nod. “I do agree,” he said, to Gregson’s utter relief. There was no love lost between them, mostly due to the fact Mikotoba’s presence was always a sign Sholmes was not far away, but the Japanese doctor did tend to be the most reasonable out of the two. A low bar to step over, that. “We don’t know how long it may take for young Gina to recall the events of that day, and what precisely she took from Lord Stronghart. It may happen tomorrow as well as in six months’ time, for all we know. Or… well. We cannot rule out the possibility she may never remember. We need to think of some way to prove our theory - that the man currently imprisoned at Barclays is not the Professor. Or at least to be absolutely certain ourselves. But I don’t know how--”

“Well, we go see for ourselves, obviously.” Sholmes spoke just as though he had just suggested they look out of the window to check the weather. 

Gregson fought back the usual urge to throw something heavy at the detective’s head and just dropped his own head back against the armchair’s backrest. “Oh, of course. We walk in and ask to see the prisoner no one is allowed to see but one selected, deaf warden, by direct order of the Lord Chief Justice of London. I am sure they will open the door away.”

As per usual, all his sarcasm flew well over Sholmes’ head. “Why, that would be awfully nice of them. But alas, through my powers of deduction I have come to suspect they would not let us in. However, if the Lord Chief Justice were to ask to see the prisoner, I am certain they would open their doors to him and whoever is accompanying him. Don’t you agree, doctor?”

Gregson opened his mouth to ask him if he really thought he could talk Stronghart into letting him in, but before he could get a single word out Mikotoba laughed. “I believe, dear Inspector,” he said, “that Mr. Sholmes has a plan.”

Another insufferable grin. “That I do! But to enact it, we will need some external help…”

***

“... Nice plan, great detective.”

“I hadn’t quite planned for Mr. Stangerson to faint…”

“You pulled off a cloth to reveal the head of his missing friend!”

“A wax replica, Inspector! I would have told him right away, if he had the good grace to wait a few moments before collapsing. I would handle it with more grace if I were to see Mikotoba’s disembodied head on a table.”

Mikotoba raised an eyebrow. “Oh, would you now?”

“... How come I get the distinct feeling I am currently on very thin ice?”

“Will you two stop talking nonsense for a moment and help this man on the sofa! Why is his hair burning-- ugh, he’s heavy…”

“Oh yes! Tall and imposing! Just as we need him!” Sholmes smiled brightly as he watched Mikotoba and Gregson lean an unconscious Joseph Stangerson onto the sofa. “Mmmh. He may be slightly too much on the portly side, but that’s nothing a good girdle cannot help with.”

“What on Earth are you--”

“All in due time, Inspector. Now, it may be best for you to leave before Scotland Yard starts wondering where you’ve gone - your next shift starts shortly, as I believe you mentioned no less than sixteen times. Whatever excuse you gave for your absence can only hold up so long.”

Gregson frowned. “You haven’t told me what your great plan exactly is, Sholmes.”

Sholmes grinned, and wagged a finger at him. “All in due time! Don’t worry, go back to work and be as non-suspicious as possible. I’ll handle everything here.”

“That is precisely why I’m worried,” Gregson muttered, and rubbed his face. “Ugh. Fine, I’ll go and be back later. Whatever you’re doing, swear to me that the kid stays out of it.”

“... Miss Lestrade, or little Iris?”

“Both, for God’s sake! Both need to stay out of this!”

“Of course, of course! Now, where did I put the smelling salts?”

“I’ll get them,” Mikotoba said quickly. Last he had let Sholmes grab the smelling salts, he’d wound up grabbing something entirely different from his chemistry set. Things would have taken a drastic and permanent turn for the worst, had he not been able to immediately intervene.

Thankfully, Stangerson did not need any smelling salts. By the time Mikotoba headed back downstairs - after a quick check to make sure that both Iris and Gina were still asleep - Gregson was gone and Stangerson he was once again conscious, staring with wide eyes at the wax head as Sholmes finished explaining… well. Everything they knew thus far, really. 

Mikotoba said nothing, and sat on an armchair as Stangerson’s expression went to horror to relief, then to confusion, and slowly back to the most utter horror as the reality of Mr. Drebber’s situation sank in. Just as Sholmes finished speaking, he jumped on his feet.

“We must do something! We have to get him out of there!”

“Of course, and that is what we mean to--”

“We must go to the press!”

“We would not be believed, not without proof, not with so much at stake. And first of all, we need to be absolutely certain that our theory is sound--”

“I’ll go to the prison myself and--”

“Mr. Stangerson. I promise you, we are going to get Mr. Drebber out of there safely,” Mikotoba spoke up, and reached to put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “But if we show our hand too soon, things could go wrong. If our suspicions are correct, then Mael Stronghart can do… extreme things to keep the truth from being known.”

Stangerson looked back at him, hands still balled into fists, and suddenly he looked so lost. 

“You think… do you think he could be killed?”

“It’s… not outside the realms of possibility. Him, or any of us.”

“God.” With a groan, Joseph Stangerson fell back on the couch and ran a blistered hand through his hair. “Oh God, I should never have let him keep going out at night-- I knew it would land him in trouble-- if only--”

“This was not your fault, Mr. Stangerson,” Sholmes spoke up, and crouched in front of him. His expression was serious, his mouth a tight line. “Your friend’s choices are not your own, and you couldn’t know what would befall him. But when he went missing, you turned to us for help. That’s what matters. And we will help him.”

“He doesn’t know,” Stangerson choked out, and his gaze turned from Sholmes to Mikotoba. His eyes were wide, and full of dawning horror. “He’s all alone in there and he doesn’t know that we’re looking for him.”

“But he will soon enough. And he is alive, Mr. Stangerson. There is hope yet. But if we’re to reach him, we’re going to need your help.”

A shaky breath, then Stangerson nodded. “Anything,” he said. “I’d do anything.”

Sholmes smiled. “That’s what I hoped to hear. So, my good man, how would you feel about wearing a girdle?”

“... Huh?”

Stangerson blinked, and looked over at Mikotoba, who shrugged. “I am afraid he hasn’t divulged the details of this plan to me yet.”

“Ah, you won’t have to wait long. Just as soon as Miss Tusspells arrives - my message should have reached her a little while ago, after all.”

“Tusspells? Was it-- the lady who found him at the cemetery?”

“That’s the one! You see, you have a convincing enough body - but your face, I fear, looks nothing like that of our Lord Chief Justice, Mael Stronghart.”

“My… face?”

“Well, you see--” Sholmes began, only to trail off upon hearing a knock on the door. He grinned. “Oh, it seems Miss Tusspells has received my message. The good news is, I now will only have to spell out my plan once…”

***

“A mask.”

“Yes, that’s what I--”

“A wax mask in the likeness of the Lord Chief Justice of London.”

“I am fairly sure that is what I just said. Was it not?” Sholmes paused, frowning, and turned to Mikotoba. “My good doctor, that is what I said, correct?”

“This is ridiculous!” Esmeralda Tusspells paused her pacing, and crossed her arms. “No idiot would fall for it!”

Sholmes smiled. “I can’t see why not! Your wax sculptures are remarkably lifelike, as the bump on Mr. Stangerson’s head can prove.”

The mention of the student caused Tusspells to bite her lower lip, looking over. For all his remarkable size, the man in question looked oddly small as he looked back at her, his expression pleading. She hesitated, and when she spoke again she sounded defensive to her own ears.

“Of course my work is lifelike - it’s not that I have doubts! But a face made out of wax cannot move. Even if I can make a wearable mask out of it - which I have never done before - it would take only a good look to tell it’s completely motionless.”

“But there is a chance it might work!” Stangerson spoke up, wringing his hands. “Even if it is a small chance, we must try. An innocent man is in prison!”

“Not all that innocent, digging up corpses…”

“Well-- you were there to dig up a corpse too!”

“Touché. But I never claimed innocence.” Tusspells, sighed, and rubbed her temples before turning back to Sholmes. “... Run this by me again, monsieur. The way you envision it, the Lord Chief Justice shows up, saying nothing, never changing expression, and yet prison guards immediately take him to the prisoner without so much a direct order? Do I have to tell you how unlikely that i--”

“Bell’s palsy,” the Japanese doctor spoke up, causing her to trail off. She looked over, startled, and the man - Mikotoba, was it? - smiled. “It is a type of temporary facial paralysis caused by inflammation of the facial nerve. It usually only affects one side of the face, but it can be bilateral in rare cases. As prison guards are hardly doctors, I feel this explanation would suffice should anyone pose questions.”

“And who would answer those questions, if he cannot speak?”

Sholmes grinned. “Ah, we have an ace up our sleeve for that! A bona fide member of Scotland Yard willing to accompany the Lord Chief Justice to the visit, and speak for him. Surely, if the Lord Chief Justice arrives in prison and a respected Inspector is accompanying him, no one is going to look too closely.”

Tusspells paused for a moment. “That… does change things,” she said, and resumed pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. “... Yes, it’s so stupid, it might actually work.”

“That it is!” The detective smiled brightly, but she paid him no mind. Her thoughts were already racing, trying to think of a way to adapt her work to make a mask - a wearable mask. 

“It won’t be easy,” she said, frowning. “I will need to make a few experiments, and choose a material to serve as the basis of the mask. It cannot rest directly on skin, clearly, as the warmth might damage the wax and make it lose its shape.”

Stangerson nodded. “I am a chemist. Perhaps I can help you find a solution - something to make the wax more resistant to body heat, at least for a time.”

Tusspells nodded. “Yes-- yes, that would be very helpful, monsieur. And of course, I will need photographs of the Lord Chief justice. Obviously an imprint of his face would make the best basis for my work, and make it far quicker, but that seems impossible to obtain.”

Sholmes smiled. “Ah, but is anything really impossible?”

“I’d wager that shoving Lord Stronghart’s face in plaster to make a cast of it without him noticing would be close enough to impossible to be an impossibility, Sholmes,” Mikotoba pointed out, gaining himself a long-suffering sigh.

“You are horribly attached to common sense, my good doctor, but I will concede this point. But certainly, mademoiselle, you’d be able to make do without a cast?”

“Oui, of course. I can create his likeness in wax without a cast, but the process will be longer.” Tusspells rubbed her chin. Stangerson looked over, wringing his hands.

“How… how much longer?”

“Perhaps a week. Perhaps two. It all depends on how quickly I can have all the material I need.”

“I’ll get you anything - what material do you need?”

“I will need photographs, as I said, from any and all angles. Portraits of him too, as accurate as possible, to get his complexion just right - seeing him briefly at night in the light of an oil lamp was far from enough. I’ll have to make a wig, too. And… let me look.” She suddenly reached out to grab Stangerson’s tie, causing him to bend forward towards her with a startled yelp. She took the glasses off his face and looked at him closely. “We’re lucky, monsieur, that your eyes are such a light blue. Even if they’re not a precise match to the Lord Chief Justice’s, they will do. And… excuse-moi, but are you aware your hair is on fire?”

“Oh. Of course, that’s… that’s good. I’ll look for any photos, he’s in the newspapers so often-- I’ll find them,” Stangerson said quickly, entirely skipping her question about the perpetually smoldering lock of hair on his head. He straightened himself, putting his glasses back on. 

“As for portraits, I believe the Inspector can help us,” Sholmes spoke up. “There is no shortage of portraits of the new Lord Chief Justice in the Yard and around the Old Bailey, and he might just be able to smuggle one out to us.”

Tusspells nodded. “That would be perfect. And, it goes without saying - if you are caught, you’re not to name me as the creator of the mask.” She crossed her arms, looking the detective in the eye. “That gallery is my family’s legacy. I am all that is left. If anything happens to me, my entire family’s claim to immortality goes with me.”

Sholmes nodded, and held her gaze with a serious expression that, she had learned by now, only graced his features when the situation was particularly serious. “You have our word, your name won’t get past our lips if this goes wrong - but I am certain you realize, Miss Tusspells, that if the worst happens… it wouldn’t take long for Lord Stronghart to connect the wax mask to you regardless. Given your work and your presence at the cemetery that night.”

That much was true; it came to no surprise to Esmeralda Tusspells. If that insane plan failed, if they were caught, getting to her would take Stronghart very little time and no effort at all. Accepting meant putting everything on the line, whether or not those men could be trusted to keep their mouths shut.

“... I know,” she heard herself saying, and Joseph Stangerson stepped forward. 

“Miss Tusspells, I beg of you--” he began, only to trail off when Sholmes lifted a hand in his direction. 

“Mr. Stangerson, the choice is hers alone.”

For a few moments, Esmeralda felt remarkably as though she was standing among her waxen creations. Everything was still; each face was turned to her. She alone could speak her mind, she alone could decide whether or not the show was over.

The man looked so young. So pale, as though he’d been bled dry.

“Monsieur, what happened?”

“H--help--”

 And then she’d seen that face again, only weeks and yet years younger, smiling at her from a newspaper as the man held up a trophy. The Professor had suddenly had a name - Enoch J Drebber - and then he was suddenly not the Professor at all. A student with a brilliant future ahead of him until an ill-fated night, in the wrong cemetery, at the wrong grave.

Could have thrown the newspaper out then and I didn’t. I came here instead. I came for help because… because…

“... I saved his life,” Esmeralda heard herself speaking at last. “He’d have suffocated there, and we’d be none the wiser, if I hadn’t dug him up. And because I dug him up, he’s buried alive again.” A brief laugh and she tiled up her chin, looking at each of the men present. “Mon Dieu, how can you look at me and say I actually have a choice on the matter? There is only one choice.”

Mikotoba smiled. “There is another choice. The easier one. But you are a good person.”

A scoff. “Hah, hardly. Once this is all over and you’ve gained yourselves national popularity, I demand you all let me take casts of your faces for my museum.”

The request gained her a delighted grin from Sholmes. “Happily! I must say, I did wonder how come my visage was not in your museum just yet. Never too late, is it! I will happily let you take the cast of my face right awa--”

“Right after this case is closed,” Mikotoba cut him off and, to her utter relief, the detective stopped talking.

For a time.

***

When Gina sneaked downstairs, no one stirred. 

She was very quiet, of course, that came with her occupation, but she could hear someone - either Sholmes or Meek Toby - snoring really loudly behind the door of the room where they had retired to sleep, so she was pretty sure they wouldn’t have heard her of she stomped down the stairs. 

Meek Toby had been really nice after she had woken up again from her nap. He’d got her more food, and told her she could have the room all for herself; he’d share the room with Mr. Sholmes, he’d told her, until the matter with Scotland Yard was resolved and she could go her way without fear. He’d even offered to take baby Iris in the room with them too, but Gina had told him she didn’t mind. She was cute and well, if she started crying, she’d probably hear her no matter what part of the house she was in. That, and she wasn’t used to sleeping on her own. There were always other kids with her whenever she went to sleep, for as long as she could remember. An empty room just for her seemed… daunting. 

The stairs creaked a little, but not too much. She made her way quietly enough to the front door, slid the deadbolt open, tried the handle, and… the door opened.

Gina Lestrade stood there a few moments, bewildered, feeling the night air on her face and staring at the fog that blanketed the street. She had fully expected the door to be locked with a key too, she had been so sure it had to be - of course they would try to lock her in, it was all grownups did, they could not be trusted. She’d already decided that if the door didn’t open, she’d try climbing out of the window. But the door did open; they hadn't locked her in, and Gina found she didn’t know how to deal with that. Finally, she slowly closed the door, pulled the deadbolt, and sneaked back in bed - confused, and relieved, and confused at her own relief.

I can keep her safe, the copper had said, and maybe he’d meant it. Maybe they all meant it.

Maybe, she thought, some grownups could be trusted after all.

***

Mael Stronghart’s plan, as far as the dispatch of Seishiro Gigoku and  Genshin Asogi from the country was concerned, had been flawless.

As their ship left for its first stop in Calais, it did so well ahead of the newspapers’ evening editions printing the story of the Professor’s survival due to a botched execution - something which may have roused a misplaced sense of guilt in one man, and too many questions in the other. The latter was the greatest concern, and Stronghart would rather not have Asogi return to England out of a misplaced sense of honor to find out what happened, and who the man languishing in prison in his stead was.

The ship left Calais perfectly on time, to farther shores, before news could spread to France in any form. Always ahead of any newspapers which may be dispatched internationally - that was, as long as the ship kept to schedule. And it didn’t. 

Much later, some would describe it as fate. At the time, it seemed an inconvenience of little consequence: a defective boiler which forced the steamship to stay in the Port of Gibraltar nearly two days more than planned, for repairs. It caused some grumbling among the passengers already on board, but it was welcomed by others who would otherwise have had to wait for the next passing ship. 

On the afternoon of the steamship’s delayed departure from Gibraltar, no fewer than nineteen extra passengers boarded - most of them British nationals. And one of them had, among his belongings, the copy of a London newspaper from the previous week, delivered to him that very same morning. While the news on it was not all that new in Great Britain, it certainly was news to the British Overseas Territory of Gibraltar - and stunning news, too.

Professor’s death sentence commuted to life imprisonment after execution is botched.

[otakween]

Digmon Adventure 02 (Blind Watch) - Episode 25

This one was really fun! A Miyako/Mimi episode with good plot developments, especially with Ken's redemption. I think Miyako is growing on me. I feel like she's one of the more realistic characters in her imperfection. She acts like I would expect a 12 year old to. Her episodes are also a treat because we get to see Mimi and Palmon. What can I say? The less a character shows up the more hype I get when they finally appear.

Digimon introduced: Yukimi Botamon, Golemon, Aquilamon

Notes:

-Omg, Daisuke and Hikari looked so cute in their little lunchtime outfits <3 Sometimes I forget they're in elementary school until stuff like that happens. (Were they serve rice and peas? I feel like I've never seen rice and peas outside of an omurice context).

-It's cute how Daisuke is so supportive of Ken compared to everyone else. He's pretty simple-minded, so it would make sense that he's the least bothered and willing to let bygones be bygones.

-Not to be creepy, but Ken is definitely my type or woulda been when I was in middle school lol. I always went for the dark/pretty boys. It helps that he has a nice voice too.

-We see more of Miyako's family in this one. Just how many siblings does she have!?

-Those Yukimi Botamon were so cute, ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? ;A; I want one! They look so squishy!

-What the HECK happened to Mimi's hair!? I guess she got some kind of perm but they drew it like they would draw a Black character's hair texture so it looks...odd. Good for her for experimenting I guess. I don't hate it.

-I was kind of surprised that Mimi was so ready to ask for Ken's help. I guess she hasn't been around for as many of the battles so maybe it's easier for her.

-I thought this episode did a good job of illustrating why killing digimon is a big deal for the kids, since in the past they've aimed at the dark spirals. Shoutout to @higuchimon for pointing this out to me too. Didn't see the "they aren't really digimon" twist coming, but that will make things a lot easier. I wonder if they were trying to use the kids' kindness against them, knowing that they wouldn't want to kill digimon?

-I tried googling where "Aquilamon's" name comes from and came up with nuttin' His design looks like a sports mascot that some redneck would have as a bumper sticker on their truck lol. Kinda weird that they gave him pecs...

-Miyako's email to Ken at the end their was so cute :) (Are they emails or text messages? Texts are called mail in Japanese, so it's a little confusing)

[randomvarious]

1990s Hip Hop Playlist

Hell yeah, some 90s underground rap and turntablist shit for your earholes! I’ve had a version of this playlist up on YouTube for a minute now, but I finally just got around to starting one for Spotify. So, for now, this thing leans heavily on west coast acts, with contributions from the likes of Rasco, The Visionaries, Lootpack, Insane Poetry, and Evidence and Joey Chavez, but we’ve got some of that raw and gritty New York street fare from the legendary D.I.T.C. crew and Missin’ Linx as well, plus some Midwest representation from turntable wizard Mr. Dibbs and clever horrorcore wordsmiths Bizarre, Eminem, and Fuzz Scoota. Just lots of dope beats, verses, and record scratches all throughout this thing; bet on it.

Also, I feel like I should mention that the Missin’ Linx song, “M.I.A.,” uses the same samples from David McCallum’s “The Edge” that Dr. Dre used for his own much more widely known classic, “The Next Episode.” But guess which one came out first? That’s right, the Missin’ Linx track! Can’t prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt, but it sure sounds like Dre heard “M.I.A.” and then decided to make his own tune using those same David McCallum samples. Some people might even go so far as to label that as an act of beatjacking 👀😅.

This playlist is ordered as chronologically as possible and links are provided below to songs that have been posted about previously in order to give them more context:

DJ Grazhoppa - “Milky Rmx” Rasco & Kutmasta Kurt - “Me & My Crew” Bizarre feat. Eminem & Fuzz - “Trife Thieves” The Visionaries - “Blessings” Mr. Dibbs - “Judah’s Transmission” Dignified Soldiers - “Themes, Dreams & Schemes” Joey Chavez feat. Evidence - “Reservation for One” Missin’ Linx - “M.I.A.” Kutmasta Kurt feat. Master of Illusion & Motion Man - “Magnum Be I” Lootpack - “Weededed” Insane Poetry feat. DJ Melo-D - “Lyrical Catacombs”

Playlist is also on YouTube and YouTube Music, but with *nineteen* more songs that aren’t on Spotify at all, including two cuts from a guy that moved from the Harlem/Washington Heights area of NYC to Germany named Raucous a/k/a Sabotage, a J Dilla remix of a N’Dea Davenport tune that includes both a verse and adlibbing from Mos Def, another track with Eminem, plus a whole bunch more west coast underground shit that’s in the same vein as what’s in the Spotify playlist already. That means a little Planet Asia, more Rasco and Evidence and his fellow Dilated Peoples groupmates Rakaa-Iriscience and DJ Babu, some great turntablist tracks, and more underground acts you might’ve never heard of, like Double Life and Raw B, Izm da Mad Soul, and Sacred Hoop and Z-Man. It’s a mix of that underground stuff and then that super underground stuff 😄.

Ric Harris - “I Can See Clearly Now” Raucous a; k; a Sabotage - “Say No More” Raucous a; k; a Sabotage - “No Way Out (Roey Marquis II Remix)” N’Dea Davenport feat. Mos Def - “Bullshittin’” Rasco feat. Defari & Evidence - “Major League” Rasco - “Cordless Mics” Bedroom Produksionz - “S.E.L.F.” Double Life feat. Raw B - “Cycles of the Mind” Izm da Mad Soul - “Maintaining Izmatic Degrees” Live Human - “Almost Live” Sacred Hoop feat. DJ Marz & Z-Man - “Not Our House” DJ Badrok - “1-800-Coming Correct” Apollo, Vinroc, Shortkut & Richness - “Live at Cue’s” Bad Meets Evil - “Nuttin’ to Do” Rakaa feat. DJ Babu - “On Deadly Ground” Planet Asia feat. 427 - “Bringin’ It Back” DJ Dusk - “Meditation, Part 1″ Babu - “I’ve Always Wanted to Be a DJ” Mr. Supreme feat. Al’ Tariq - “Run the Show”

Plus, I’m also breaking this playlist down into smaller segments, so if this feels like too much, consider checking out a hip hop playlist that focuses solely on the year of 1998 instead.

YouTube / YouTube Music

Enjoy!

More to come, eventually. Stay tuned!

Like what you hear? Follow me on Spotify and YouTube for more cool playlists and uploads!

[granonine]

Saturday Soliloquy: "Nuttin' in my Noggin"

Remember the movie about the ants? “A Bug’s Life,” I think. That’s where I first heard a character say, “Nuttin’ in MY noggin!” But I couldn’t find a video clip of that one, so I kept looking and came up with this one from “Finding Nemo.” That’s exactly how I am at this moment. Blank. Nothing. So, probably the best thing for me to do is to find something else to do 🙂 Hope y’all have a great…

[b1uedcollar]

❛  have it your way, you stubborn ass!  ❜ @ cody

🔩     ⸻     he’s gone commando.    a strategic move to stretch time when he’s slippin’ on it. chafing be damned, skin strikes against skin in ‘em jeans on the summer-y-est days of the year   ( and it had only just begun.   whalehail,   maybe doc was right and the globe really was a-warmin’ ).   cody charpentier wasn’t bitter for the work   ( she needed a handyman, no matter how much she protested ),    he just wished somethin’ in an air conditioned room broke, instead of out in the blisterin’ heat.    sweat drippin’ down his nose like a slip’n’slide. he shoulda been happy   ( grateful )   when she came shashaying over with some lemonade. but   the distraction with hair   loosens his grip on that tool, and somethin’ fierce rubs ‘em nerves together.    he's fine!!!!!!!    but she won’t let up.   ( she never does. )   so the flames only get higher, heated words mixin’ right on into that boiling pot.

cody’s day may have started late, but it’s sure gunna end early.    he flinches, jerking away from the concern in her eyes.   s’only a drop or two of blood   ( tongue’s already licked the stain off his skin. that is what the damn thang’s for, among other things ).   nuttin’ serious.   he ain’t a damn baby.   that’s when she fires away, and he doesn’t fight the shit-eatin’ grin hooked on his lips.    he’s quick with the buckle, backing away as he reels in the bait, and then swiftly turns to pull ‘em cheeks right outta his jeans.    stubborn ass on full [moon] display.     “s’all for you, doc.”     tongue swipes against his lips, buttering up his next words like a damn biscuit.     “might ass well kiss it too.”

[rainsmediaradio]

King Promise & WSTRN - Bad N Rude Lyrics

King Promise & WSTRN - Bad N Rude Lyrics Intro Kaa k33 moko moko kaa k33 Kaa k33 moko moko kaa k33 Kaa k33 moko moko kaa k33 (Yeah, let's go) Verse 1 Big vibes when we link up and we drink up Forget the things wey dey stress my mind Make I ease up, girl make you wine up Put some Henny in my cup Make I loosen up yeah, girl make you wine up Forget the things wey dey stress my mind Make I ease up, girl make you wine up Oh nah nah nah Pre-Chorus Me I came up from nothing I dey hustle my own thing Me I no dey watch nobody Only God talk am for me Charlie me I came up from nothing I dey hustle my own thing Nyankopon nkoaa na 3hw3 me oo, hw3 me oo Oh nah nah nah Chorus Don't come and wait up everybody my love You are the one that I love Anything you want you ah get designer Nobody can try us Cause you're bad and rude Your body so good Make a man turn fool Verse 2 Anytime we link up All the girli want fi ride ah yah yah yah Imma pull up on your drink up But I be sitting out shy ai ai ai Me not ain't no mix up And girl I tell em lie ai ai ai I fit keep a thing tall Lord forgive me if it sky ai ai ai Came up, came up out of nuttin Only, only one here above me Charlie streets know we were hustling Dunnooo Pre-Chorus Me I came up from nothing I dey hustle my own thing Me I no dey watch nobody Only God talk am for me Charlie me I came up from nothing I dey hustle my own thing Nyankopon nkoaa na 3hw3 me oo, hw3 me oo Oh nah nah nah Chorus Don't come and wait up everybody my love You are the one that I love Anything you want you ah get designer Nobody can try us Cause you're bad and rude Your body so good Make a man turn fool Verse 3 She tell me she want me, she naughty But me not just ride any girl in a party But the bratty You don't wanna wanna dance with Any homie leave here with you Me'a I clutch in the back We ah fi finish what we started Call me I'll be on time Cause you know you're my prize, girl I see the niggas on your Snapchat Been on my data man for stop that Round one, round two, nigga round five Yeah these niggas know we all said we come from Pre-Chorus Me I came up from nothing I dey hustle my own thing Me I no dey watch nobody Only God talk am for me Charlie me I came up from nothing I dey hustle my own thing Nyankopon nkoaa na 3hw3 me oo, hw3 me oo Oh nah nah nah Chorus Don't come and wait up everybody my love You are the one that I love Anything you want you ah get designer Nobody can try us Cause you're bad and rude Your body so good Make a man turn fool Read the full article

[chanslave]

FAST FOWARD TO NOW

My Mrs. Goosie Gurl is transitioning from her living body to her dying body stages. She's getting ready for her next chapter. I haven't posted much. With her physical difficulties, and pain level being hard to juggle, my house has been in disarray. She has painful arthritis, kidney failure, and Canine ALS.

These past months have been one of the most difficult challenges I have faced in my life, to keep my baby Chan safe.

She and I have such a deep connection that we are able to know what each other needs before we need it. She loves, protects, and comforts me. I love, protect, provide, and comfort her.

It's a 24 hour job to care for her now. She needs help with lots of things, like getting up and down on her regular bed, or climbing up and down the ramp to the front door. She also needs to go potty during the night. All this is made more difficult because of my condition. We are a pair. I joyfully volunteer for caring for her. I won't get this precious time with her for here much longer. Her needs shall come first if it is in my power. She put me first many times in her life. Soon it might be her choice when she let's go. Or soon it might be when I say, "The fight is over Chickie Girl. I love you." Not good bye. Never good bye.

She's calm now. I'm calm now. We've got things figured out for better sleep, for she and for me. She's much happier, telling me her pain level has gotten to a level that is much more tolerable. We have figured out better routines. Her walks are shorter in length by far but longer in time. She spends her time laying in the sun now instead of hunting squirrels. <Never did catch one. 11 yrs trying. Now she is a hunter of a different kind. She hunts for shady little coves. Then she digs up some fresh dirt, nuttin better than fresh black topsoil against bright white fur, and plops in it. Ahhhh. Then. Sniffing time. Life is good.

If she wants a tug time, we do it with her laying out like a Polar Bear to keep her upper strong and still have play time.

Her tail stopped working for emotions before lockdown. It still lifts pretty well for potty breaks. Without her tail, I have learned to read her eyes more instead of whole body language. I'm glad I did.

I'm posting as a way of healing. We just went through something traumatic. We came through. As we always have. She's my best friend. I'm being strong when I have to. Who else is there? We cry together. We laugh. We walk. We sit on the floor together. We play. We watch YouTube. British television in the morning, music in afternoon. When there is no more we

[tiqalicious]

Interview with Jack McCallum - Officer A. Hayes presiding.

JM: "I don't understand why I'm still being held here."

AH: "We still have a lot of questions Jack, we're just trying to make things a little more clear."

JM: "I didn't do it."

AH: "We know that Jack, but if you'll just take some time to describe it again for us, it could really help us out."

JM: "I've already told the lot of ye, he was dead when I found him."

AH: "On your farm, you said?"

JM: "Aye. T'was my neighbour's boy, little Rory. She brought him over once when he was nuttin but a wean, and you should have seen the smile on his face. His mam said t'was the first smile he ever cracked and I think it gave me a soft spot for em, cause by the time he hit ten, I'd let him come over every single day, carrying his little jotter and scribblin away like a mad thing at everything he saw."

AH: "He came over every day?"

JM: "Oh aye. Shannon didn't have a lot of money to throw around, see? So I was always fixing him lunches and letting him hang around. He was a good wee lad, spent all day out and about, and never really got into trouble save for falling in the water. I saw him running to the house once like he was feart for his life, chased away by a pine marten, convinced the thing was goin ta kill em. Best craic I've ever seen, that. Laughed till I was in tears."

Officers notes: Jack went quiet for a few moments here, only staring at the table. He hasn't looked me in the eyes since we started speaking, but I find it hard to believe he's hiding anything from me. He really looks as if he lost one of his own.

AH: "I'm not really s'posed to do this now, but you look like you could use a fag. Have one of mine."

JM: "Appreciate it. I uh… I told him not to go over to that grove, you know."

AH: "The trees where you found him?"

JM: "Aye. I'll tell ye now, there's always been sumtin quare hanging around that spot over the bridge. The animals avoided it like the fuckin plague. The dogs would get their hackles up any time ye went too close, the sheep would run away from it like the devil himself was at their heels, and the horses, well they wouldn't even take a single step upon that bridge. Me nan told me once when I was wee that horses know sumtin we don't. She said their eyes are open to the entire world afore them, and the rest of us are all just sleepwalking through it. I've learned to never doubt the judgement of me horses, but… I should have just took a hammer to that fuckin bridge. T'is my fault he's gone."

AH: "We'll find whoever did this."

JM: "No ye fuckin won't."

AH: "I promise ye now Ja-"

Officers notes: Jack became enraged at this moment, and it took a while to calm him down, but I was able to de-escalate without any need for restraint.

JM: "Ye still don't fuckin get it, do ye?. It don't want to be bloody found! There's something foul in there that should have been left alone, and I was too fuckin stupid to make sure it stayed that way! It took his fuckin eyes, Aidan! It plucked them right from his skull and left him out there to die an he was probably too busy chasing after a fuckin butterfly, to even see it coming! I DID THIS! I COULD HAVE STOPPED IT AND NOW HE'S FUCKIN GONE!"

AH: "Jackie…"

JM: "Don't you give me another fuckin word. Ye can't make this better and ye won't find who did it, so just fuckin don't. You lot aren't equipped to deal with any of this sort of thing."

AH: "Ye don't have to worry about that now, Jack. We've already brought in some specialists."

JM: "What?"

AH: "Some big important crew brought all the way over from London. They're at yer place now, lookin over the grove. They're the ones who asked me to talk to ye again."

JM: "It don't fucking matter, because THEY WON'T BELIEVE ME!"

AH: "I wouldn't be so sure of that, Jack."

JM: "What are ye on about?"

AH: "Never mind. Shouldn't have said anything. I'll be round yer way tonight to check in on Shannon. I'll come see ye after, eh?"

JM: "I don't ne-"

AH: "I said I'll come see ye after, make sure yer doing okay, right?"

JM: "Ah…. right then."

AH: "Okay, well I think we've got everything we need here, so yer free to go. Just keep away from the grove while that lot do there work, eh?"

JM: "Fine."

Initial autopsy report performed by H. Duffy, Coroner: Deceased male, 12. Eyes and tongue removed despite no signs of struggle. No entry wounds on body, yet subject is missing all major organs. Three ribs completely missing with no medical history of removal. Baffling absence of blood on scene or signs of trauma, perhaps sign of as yet untraceable chemical agent? No clear answers. Body sent to London for further investigation.

"So…. Thoughts?"

"Sounds like a rushed job."

"Indeed. I would wager that someone was interrupted."

"Aye. Farmer probably went looking and got too close to the scene. That child was supposed to disappear."

"So why not simply take the farmer as well?"

"Too much attention. Probably an entry point."

"Quite likely one of hundreds, honestly"

"The specialists…"

"Hunters, my dear boy. If nothing else, at least this little misstep is an opportunity to confirm some suspicions. Someone high up the ladder is running a branch out of london."

"I'll make sure our lot know to avoid the area for a few weeks."

"I'm afraid that's not entirely possible, quite yet. You heard the recording. The officer suspects something. The farmer knows, as those infuriating salt of the earth types so often do, but the officer… we need to tamp this down. Take these press certifications and see to it that the both of them receive a little guidance. Nothing grizzly, just send someone to make them think a little… differently. No need to stoke the flames any further."

"Of course, Cinnidh."

[volatileimpulisivenightmare]

I'll tell you how it happened

It was Darius and Noland and me

Just three poor boys trying to get up out of Missouri

Took 55 to Louisiana, stopped by the highway to eat

They both had crawfish, strictly chicken for me

Back out under thunderheads, the radio was Southern soul

They interrupted Clarence Carter with a strange-ass local show

They were saying:

"Come down to Lake Pontchartrain

Rest your soul and feed your brain

That's where you will get to see

Everything the water can be"

The rain was comin' down, the wind was howlin' outside of Slidell

It was the kinda night that makes you think the whole world's goin' to hell

We got off on an exit cause we couldn't read the map so great

Near the Choctaw Motel, we parked to deliberate

When out of the bayou came a man like the lake had a tongue

He was right up on the glass, all yellow-eyed, black teeth Bangin' on the windshield, screamin' like a demon at the top of his lungs:

"Come down to Lake Pontchartrain

Rest your soul and feed your brain

Free for you and all your friends

Crawfish 'til the bitter end

Come down to Lake Pontchartrain

Wade to where the shallows break

That's where you will get to see

Everything the water can be"

I was drivin' outta there as fast as a Camry could

But the interstate was flooded and I had to take the road through the woods

Bad move in retrospect, the road disappeared in the rain

And I stood on the brakes when I saw the sign: "Lake Pontchartrain"

Darius was yelling that he saw somebody out in the swells

He jumped out runnin' and Noland was goin' as well

"Come back!" Why the hell would they leave the car?!

And that's when I heard it—make no mistake—

The voices were calling them from under the lake

"Come down to Lake Pontchartrain

Come down to Lake Pontchartrain

Come down to Lake Pontchartrain

Come down to Lake Pontchartrain"

The crawfish were screaming, the waves danced in time

My friends went in deeper, the water, it climbed

I watched in terror, the lake opened wide

And horribly roaring, it pulled them inside

That's how it happened, why would I lie?

There were no bodies; I've got nuttin' to hide

I'm just a boy, lost his friends in the rain

Any more questions, just go and ask Lake Pontchartrain

Lake ponchatrain ludo

.

.

[paytunessay]

Tupac Shakur is probably one of the most influential rappers of all time, let alone in the 90s rap scene. He always sends a message through his songs, and he does not fail to do so in his song Keep Ya Head Up. This is a huge song for the time, especially as not only a rapper but a man who held this well-respected gangster image. He states how we should give everything to our women and not take from them, and makes his audience realize that we all did come from a woman. Our women give us life and make our world. This is extremely influential to feminism as Tupac’s image depended on his respect as a whole, and if the people did not resonate with his music then his career might have failed. Tupac did not care and still felt it was necessary to speak his truth. This shows to other “tough” men that if Tupac can respect his mom and other women, then they can, and should, too. If one person starts it, then the ball will start rolling, and Tupac was that guy. He actually directly calls himself out to his audience saying that if no other man will step up, then he will, and that says a lot for his street and music credibility at the time. 

Tupac’s lovely lyrics: 

“I give a holler to my sisters on welfare

Tupac cares, if don't nobody else care”

…

“And when he tells you you ain't nuttin' don't believe him

And if he can't learn to love you, you should leave him

'Cause sista you don't need him”

…

“And since we all came from a woman

Got our name from a woman and our game from a woman (yeah, yeah)

I wonder why we take from our women

Why we rape our women, do we hate our women? (Why? Why?)

I think it's time to kill for our women (why? Why? Why? Why?)

Time to heal our women, be real to our women”

…

“And if we don't we'll have a race of babies

That will hate the ladies, that make the babies (oh, yeah, baby)

And since a man can't make one

He has no right to tell a woman when and where to create one

So will the real men get up

I know you're fed up ladies, but keep your head up”

[shyficwriter]

Temporary Home: Chapter 14

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: The guardians keep trying to include you in various activities to keep your mind off what's troubling you since you won't talk about it. However, one of these activities turns out to have a, shall we say... slightly less than desired outcome.

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: Thank you to @quillsandtypos, @theambracer88, @mcugiggles, @marvelouslyfluffy and all the anons who participated in my questionnaire post! As you probably guessed, I'll be using the answers (and any future ones, if anyone else still wants to play) to complete some fluffy scenes in the story! Also, for my records this chapter ends on day 23 of the Guardians living with reader. Enjoy!

Word Count: 4,683

Rocket, though he finally had a way to repair the device, had decided to wait a bit before actually doing so. Hell, he had waited this long, certain that his smuggling had been in vain once he found one of the parts had broken on... ahem, "departure," so what was another day or two? It was obvious they were going to be here awhile anyway, so he wasn't too rushed.

One might wonder, how was Rocket able to smuggle anything if SHIELD had searched him, already having found and confiscated contraband he had hidden in his "back pocket?"

Well, Rocket wasn't an idiot. He knew of other ways to smuggle goods on his person. Or, in his person, rather. That being said, maybe to say he wasn't an idiot might be giving him a bit too much credit... Swallowing the pieces of a small data pad might not have been exactly the safest thing to do, though he had given himself a pat on the back for rightfully assuming the Terran's wouldn't think to put him through a body scanner.

He had been damned lucky that nothing had gotten lodged or had punctured any of his innards on the way through, but hey, it worked, didn't it?

Well, mostly.

As said, a part had broken on "departure," which he of course blamed on Gamora and Mantis for rushing him in the bathroom that first day. If that bug-eyed chick didn't have such a tiny bladder then he could have allowed for a more "graceful landing."

No matter, he now had a way to fix it thanks to you. This had admittedly softened his attitude towards you the tiniest bit, though he wasn't going to admit it, nor was he going to completely let his guard down. Use of your workshop was probably just another bribe to win his favor, after all. Just like the bed. He was definitely going to take advantage of it, don't get him wrong. He wasn't just not going to use the tools available to him. Just like he wasn't going to just not sleep in the bed you built him. It was better than sleeping in the crib, though he had been grateful the crib had been left in the room when you left the bed. He had been hiding the pieces of the smuggled device under the crib's mattress -the only good use he saw for it, other than the fact that Groot actually slept pretty well in it- because boy, if the others had found out he had smuggled that in, they would have been pissed. Hence, why he wasn't in too big a hurry to fix it just yet.

Perhaps it couldn't hurt to maybe fix that broken stool in the shed for you, though. Just for a warm up, not because he thought he owed you anything, of course.

***

The evening of the check-in you had found yourself with nothing to do and back in the thoughts that had plagued you since the couple came, and you once again considered pouring yourself a glass or two of whiskey.

Yondu had been leaning against the counter enjoying a snack when he saw you retrieve the bottle from the fridge. Remembering the previous night he raised an eyebrow at you. The last thing he wanted was to witness a repeat, but thought he'd still keep an eye on you. Cut you off again before/if you started to look a little too "weepy." He had doubts that you even remembered what you'd done the previous night, and this was confirmed when he made a lighthearted comment about, "Ya goin' to take it easy tonight, or will I be needin' to cut you off again?" and you raised an eyebrow at him before saying, "What? You didn'- Oh right- I think I do remember you taking my drink now that you mention it," as you set the bottle on the table and went to retrieve a glass from the cupboard.

You now sported a slight blush and, pausing your actions, asked, "I um, didn't say or do anything embarrassing to have warranted that, did I?"

Yondu looked you right in the eye, and lied. "Nope. It was just clear ya had a bit much. Figured I'd save yer wimpy Terran liver." He laughed at your slight pout and added, "Ya just whined at me fer takin' yer drink and then fell asleep. Nuttin' too excitin'."

Yondu could see the relief on your face and it solidified his lack of regret of not telling you. Sure, he might have wanted to crack the mystery to see why you were the way you were, but not like that. He hadn't expected the previous night's display, and if anything, it made him feel like he should back off. Yes, it prompted more burning questions, but even he knew there were some things you just didn't pry into.

Around that time Peter and Kraglin came into the kitchen, messing about and horse-playing. You considered telling them to break it up, but then decided you didn't actually care enough as long as they weren't about to break anything... or anyone. You were about to make your standard polite offer of a drink when suddenly a rip was heard and Peter whined out, "Aw man! You ripped my favorite shirt!"

Sure enough, their rough-housing had managed to rip the seam along the left-shoulder of Peter's dark blue shirt, leaving a sizable hole of a couple inches long that revealed another white shirt underneath.

You rolled your eyes and told him where he could find the sewing kit.

Peter looked at you sheepishly and said, "I don't know how to sew."

You sighed and said, "I guess I'm not doing anything..." and you began to walk towards him and the exit of the kitchen, abandoning the bottle of whiskey on the table without having poured a drink.

Peter took off his ripped shirt and in a surprised voice said, "Oh!- Thanks-" starting to hand you the shirt as you walked past.

You didn't take the shirt, just looked at him as a laugh escaped your throat. "I didn't say I'd do it for you. I meant I'll teach you." With that you cocked your head towards the door and headed out towards the sitting room.

As you walked away you shook your head and muttered something Peter couldn't hear but assumed was an insult as he blushed both from embarrassment at his mistake and from hearing Yondu and Kraglin now laughing at him. He wordlessly followed, not wishing to make more of a fool of himself.

Watching Peter leave, inspiration struck Yondu. It might be overstepping, and might have been a long shot, but it was worth a try. He nudged Kraglin in the arm to get his attention. "Ya remember last night? How things got a little too..." he searched for the right word.

Kraglin finished for him, "Sad? Yeah. I remember." He caught sight of the bottle on the table. "She back at it tonight?" He and Yondu hadn't discussed what happened when he had returned to the kitchen after walking you to your room. It had gone unsaid that you were in a bad way.

"She was gonna," Yondu answered, "but then you two came in and gave her something to distract herself. Might not hurt to keep doing that for a bit."

"Ya wanna keep her busy?" Kraglin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Better than watchin' her drown herself in a bottle," Yondu replied flippantly with a shrug, but Kraglin could see through his blasé attitude.

He was slightly surprised, but not completely opposed to Yondu's suggestion. You had been drinking a lot the past few days. It didn't take a genius to see that something was obviously wrong, and he knew better that drinking like that only made sad feelings worse. If this had been the Eclector, and you part of the crew, he or Yondu would have cut you off well before now once they saw the pit you were digging. You just don't let sad people drink themselves into a stupor. It's bad form. But this wasn't the ship, and you weren't crew, and they couldn't stop you. They were in your house. They've barely known you for three weeks. He knew they couldn't just order you around, but if a little bit of distraction kept him from seeing you looking that sad again and kept you from hiding in the bottom of a bottle, he was for it.

Yondu spoke again, more or less repeating Kraglin's thoughts back at him. "I know we're on her turf, but someone's gotta do somethin'. It's bad form to just let h- to just to let a person drown like that. She needs to get her mind off what's been troubling her."

Kraglin examined the former captain's features. There was something else there. An emotion behind his eyes the first mate was familiar with after years of faithful service. Cap'n might not always be the best at admitting his softer feelings, but Kraglin knew. He could see it.

It was a look similar to the one he wore after he finished telling Rocket just how alike they were, right before they went to fight Ego. It was the same look in his eyes he had shortly after Peter came aboard the Eclector as a boy and it was decided he wasn't going to be delivered to Ego. One Kraglin even thought he recognized being on the receiving end of when he was a younger lad on the crew.

Kraglin smiled, a soft mix of understanding and sadness. "Sir," he said gently.

Yondu grunted in response and glanced at him.

"First, I do agree with ya, we should help keep her mind off it, but I just gotta say this too." He sighed before continuing. He knew Yondu wasn't going to like what he was about to say, but they were alone now, so he felt safe to say it. He knew if he said this in front of anyone else it'd a a surefire way to put Yondu dangerously close to whistling territory. "We can't be getting too attached, now."

Yondu glared at him. "Who said anythin' about-"

"Sir, all respect and all, but I think I can say I know ya better than anyone else here." Kraglin said, having cut Yondu off with a slight chuckle. "I can see it, I can tell when you're getting attached." His tone got slightly more serious, more comforting. "I don't think it'll be good for ya to get too attached, sir. We'll be leaving here eventually, and we know she ain't gonna be coming with us."

Yondu set his mouth in a firm line and stared Kraglin down hard but didn't say anything. He knew his first mate was right, but that didn't mean he had to admit it. Finally he answered with, "I ain't gettin' attached to nuttin' or nobody."

Kraglin sighed. If he knew anything else it was that Yondu could also be stubborn as hell. If he wanted to live in denial, well there wasn't a whole lot he could do about it. "Alright, sir," he said with a shake of his head. "I believe ya." He didn't, and his tone betrayed that, earning him a narrowed eyed look from Yondu, but they dropped the conversation, at least for now.

***

Showing Peter how to sew went fairly smoothly. He seemed to grasp the concept well enough, watching you sew the first third of the tear - not the easiest task with your brace on- and then repeating what you had shown him on the rest himself. He finished soon enough and thanked you before leaving the table.

However, almost immediately after that Kraglin showed up with something ripped and asked if you could teach him too. You sighed, and mildly scolded him about how come he couldn't have asked while you were showing Peter, but you agreed regardless. Again, it wasn't exactly the easiest task considering you only had a limited range of motion to move your arm, but you managed. After he finally seemed to get it (he asked a lot of questions, even if he understood, assuming it'd be helpful to keep you occupied for longer) you noticed it had gotten dark out, and you were tired anyway, and so when it looked like he had a handle on it you decided to just go to bed.

***

The next day it seemed like people just kept asking you to do things. Not like they were ordering you around, but more like asking you to do things with them, which they hadn't often done.

It wasn't all bad, but you had the feeling it wasn't just a coincidence that they were seemingly trying to keep you engaged in various tasks and activities after Maria had informed you that one of them had expressed concerns about your well-being. You didn't know if they were now acting on their own or if Fury or Agent Hill had suggested it, but either way you figured you'd just roll with it. If you made an effort maybe they'd be happy and drop it.

That morning, before you realized what was going on, Mantis came to you with a book on plants and asked you to help her identify different plants around the property. You had almost said no, perhaps another time, but then you saw the expectant look on her happy face and decided you had time to kill anyway, so what could it hurt?

It was about when you were asked by Mantis and Drax to join the others for a game of UNO that you started to suspect what was going on.

Before this, Peter had kept coming up to you wanting to show you funny videos he found, having recently discovered the YouTube app on the TV; Yondu had come to you with an archery book and tried making small-talk asking about Terran types of archery; and Gamora and Kraglin asked you to help ref while everyone sparred.

You had agreed to reffing, feeling a little better than you had been all those days you had refused and now therefore not seeing any reason not to.

It was a slight bummer though, needing to sit on the sidelines and watching others train, but you supposed watching them to see if they knew any cool 'space moves' couldn't hurt. Plus, watching how the raccoon was able to hold his own against human-sized opponents was always interesting. Groot sat with you, not being permitted to spar with the others (except for when Rocket would decide to pretend spar with him, just to make him happy) and he was adorable as he played with the grass, so it wasn't all bad.

After that everyone else was pretty much tired, but Groot came up to you with the car you had given him, holding it above his head. You raised an eyebrow and looked to Peter, who informed you that the little guy wanted you to push him on it. You did, because how could you possibly say no to that?

What was cute to Peter, however, was the fact that no one had prompted Groot to do that. He just genuinely wanted you to play with him.

After a while of playing with Groot is when Mantis and Drax had come to you about playing UNO. Now you were getting a hint of what they were doing, but you agreed to play a few games with them anyway. You even caught yourself actually starting to have fun.

Around suppertime Peter came up to you, asking if you could teach him how to cook something. He talked about how he thought it'd be fun to learn to cook more things from his home world, and also reminded you how you did say several times that he could 'help you cook later.'

You sighed and after some more prodding from Peter you finally agreed, asking him what he might like to learn how to cook.

Peter looked like a deer in the headlights before admitting that he didn't actually know. He didn't remember a whole lot of different Terran foods from when he was a kid, and he was now drawing a blank.

You nodded towards the kitchen and told him the two of you would figure it out.

After looking for a bit you decided on a vegetable stew, mostly because this had been unexpected and you hadn't pulled any meat from the freezer to thaw.

Peter was surprisingly not bad at it. He handled the knife safely, he cut the vegetables evenly, and he listened as you told him what to do and when. You wondered if he had some experience cooking before, but you didn't ask.

After dinner Gamora wouldn't take no for an answer on helping with the dishes, of course using your injury as an excuse. You sighed, but allowed it, agreeing to dry while she washed, still under the impression that if you just indulged them for a bit they'd eventually stop and start leaving you along again.

Just as you finished Peter came to the two of you asking if you wanted to see a new movie he found on Netflix.

Figuring it wouldn't hurt to make an effort, you agreed to watching a movie with them and followed into the sitting room, wondering what film he had picked out.

Turned out, he had chosen a horror movie. Candy Man.

You sighed. Obviously you weren't completely immune to jump scares, but you didn't really mind horror movies. You could even go as far to say that you enjoyed most of them. However, you were concerned about Mantis, who you could see sitting happily on the rug in front of the couch next to Rocket as you entered the room.

"Are you sure this movie is appropriate for everyone?" you ask Peter.

"What? You scARed?" Rocket taunted with a smirk, and it was then that you saw Groot on the rug as well, having been sitting in Rocket's lap.

You roll your eyes and explain that your concerns were for the wooden child and Mantis, as your time spent with them hadn't made you very confident that they would recieve a scary movie well. "I'm more concerned the movie's gonna give them nightmares," you explained as you took a seat at the end of the couch.

Gamora seemed to agree with you, but the two of you were outvoted. Rocket just rolled his eyes and snarked that he bet you were scared, and Mantis assured excitedly that she could watch it. Groot, even though you couldn't understand him, also seemed adamant. You had a feeling they didn't really know what they were getting into, but combined with the fact that Mantis was an adult, and Groot wasn't your child, and Peter was doing his best to convince you and Gamora that everything would be fine, you eventually gave in, stating, "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you. She better not crawl into my bed tonight. I'll send her your way."

Peter just laughed and shook his head, not taking you seriously, before turning out the lights and taking a seat next to Gamora at the other end of the couch. Kraglin took the last available seat between you and Peter and Rocket smarted off again.

"If you're gonna get scared maybe Kraglin will hold your hand!" he laughed as Peter turned on the film.

You rolled your eyes at him and crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to look at Kraglin to give the rodent any satisfaction that he might have succeeded in embarrassing you. This, Kraglin was grateful for, because he was sort of an easy blusher, and he didn't want you to get the wrong idea. He just gave Rocket an unamused look, but he was also grateful the lights had been dimmed so that Yondu couldn't see him blushing and then tease him for it. Whether or not the former Ravager captain would actually believe Kraglin might have managed to develop feelings for you wouldn't matter. That fact that Kraglin had just told Yondu the previous night that he shouldn't be getting attached would be enough for him to jump on it and tease the hell out of him purely out of spite.

Despite the movie being old, it was still relatively new to you. You had heard about it, thought you remembered seeing a commercial or maybe a clip or two of it over the years, but this had been your first time actually watching it.

It was about halfway though and nothing terribly scary had happened yet. There was the flashback scene of a little boy having been mutilated that made you cringe, as any show that featured little kids being harmed always hit a sore spot, but it didn't really show much more than a bloody bathroom.

You were starting to think it probably wasn't going to be any real scary scenes, but then Candyman started to call the college lady's name, and it actually made you fight a shiver. You didn't know why, but creepy sounds were one of the few things from a film that could actually strike fear in your heart. Thankfully it didn't last long. You weren't looking forward to being teased for jumping or shivering at a movie that wasn't really even that scary.

At least it would mean that Mantis would be unlikely to crawl into your bed scared tonigh-

Candyman just shoved his hook through the college lady's medicine cabinet.

Half of everyone jumped, including you. Among those startled was Kraglin, and he shot you a glance that you purposely didn't return, not wanting to answer to any cocky smiles or teases accusing you of being scared.

A shot came on the screen centering on the baby Candyman took and you tensed, worried he was going to kill it, but you were relieved to see that he only let it suckle on his finger.

Kraglin felt you tense and then relax beside him, and he frowned, remembering the other night. He considered asking if you were alright, but then thought better of it and held his tongue, instead watching on as a scene played where the lady was now stuck in a mental hospital, having been believed to have killed her best friend and said baby from the previous scene.

Yondu didn't think he liked this movie, but he continued to watch in silence. He didn't want to see kids being hurt, and he had also tensed at the previous scene. Like you, he was sure that the bad guy was about to kill the baby. However, as he was sitting in his usual spot in the armchair, his tension went unnoticed.

Mantis let out a short scream when the lady summoned Candyman and he killed the psychiatrist. You sighed, realizing this wasn't looking good for her staying in her own bed tonight. Little did Peter know, you hadn't been kidding. If she tries to crawl in with you, you're sending her right to him, seeing as it would be his fault.

The lady was now exploring Candyman's lair, and you started to get a little tense at the creepy sounds of his breathing, and you mentally cursed whoever mixed the sound for this movie.

You got even more tense and fidgety when he opened his robe to reveal a ribcage full of bees. You only hoped no one noticed to tease you for it. Body horror was another thing that never failed to make you shudder.

Eventually the movie started to come to a close, a scene played where the lady's jerk ex-fiancé was having flashbacks to how good he had it with her now that she was dead, and you thought it was just going to end on a sad note.

That is, until he said her name, Helen, five times in the mirror (just like Candyman) and she came back and killed him with the Candyman's hook. Her sudden appearance made you startle slightly, and you heard more squeals from Mantis. You sighed again. Yep, she was definitely not going to sleep tonight.

The movie was finally over and Peter got up to turn on the lights. He turned to see you giving him a glare and he smiled. "What? Was it too scary for you?" he jeered.

You just pointed down to Groot. He had his head buried in Rocket's chest and was softly whimpering. "I told you that movie wasn't for kids."

Rocket scoffed at you and told you he would be fine, then turned it on you, saying how he felt you jump at least three times from where he was sitting.

You rolled your eyes and ignored him, turning to Peter and this time gesturing to Mantis, who still looked a bit shaken. "I meant what I said. She tries to crawl in bed with me, I'm sending her to you," you say, leaving to go to go get ready for bed, both because it was now late, and to avoid any inevitable further teasing from Rocket.

The others seemed to have much the same idea about bedtime, and a few of them followed you up the stairs.

You let Mantis shower first, hopeful that if you went after her that she might hopefully be asleep by the time you got out. However, when you finished your own shower, Peter had thought it'd be funny to jump-scare you as you exited the bathroom, grabbing your shoulders and shouting, "CANDYMAN'S GOTCHA!" which resulted in you jumping a mile with a noise you'd deny was a shriek before you turned to punch him in the arm scolding, "Damn you!"

He, along with Rocket, only responded by laughing their asses off at you. You thought you could also hear Drax's own booming laughter down the hall from his room, and you caught a glimpse of Yondu and Kraglin sharing amused glances and snickering from their shared room.

Your face getting warm at the fact that he had actually managed to get you pretty good, you then just storm off to your room, ignoring Rocket's teases that he bet that you'd be the one crawling into Mantis's bed tonight.

You shut the bedroom door behind you to see Mantis awake and clutching her bear for dear life. Whether she was just already awake due to nerves or you had woken her with your startled cry, you didn't know, but you flicked on your desk lamp for her, turned out your overhead light and crawled into bed without a word.

Sometime later, long enough for you to have drifted off into a decently sound enough sleep to be dreaming, you were startled awake by someone crawling into your bed.

Guess who. That's right. Mantis.

You groaned and turned to see she had already crawled halfway into your bed before you stopped her by rousing. "Mantis," you groaned, pointing towards the door, "go climb into Peter's bed. He's the one that chose the movie."

Mantis tucked her chin sheepishly and admitted she had already tried that, but his and Gamora's door had been locked.

You stared at the ceiling and sighed. Clever bastard.

You made a mental note to squirt lemon juice in his coffee in the morning before letting out another groan. "Ugh, fine. But just this once," you allowed, ignoring the fact that this would actually technically be the second time. You were also not actually quite as salty as you let on. If anything, you should maybe thank her for waking you from a bad dream involving the Candyman's ribcage full of bees, but you weren't going to tell her that.

She smiled gratefully and thanked you as she snuggled in.

You sighed quietly and Mantis fell asleep quickly. At least she didn't snore.

You spent the next bit before you fell asleep yourself contemplating different ways that you might be able to annoy Peter for sufficient payback.