#dougie d

[wexhappyxfew]

saw you were taking prompts and am having absolute carrie x dougie brainrot! maybe something with “i can stay the night, y’know. if it’d make you feel better.” or really whatever you see fit for them!

I just think that have such a fun and interesting dynamic that i’m OBSESSED with.

HELLO LOVELY ANON!!!! :) apologies that i am now months late to this prompt - but i am happy to say, i have an incredibly fun piece written in response!!! this has gone through a few iterations i won't lie - with some of the pieces of writing most likely incorporated into other pieces in the future! BUT - for now, please enjoy my take on this prompt. thank you SO MUCH for the love on carrie and dougie! i have so much fun writing them and their entire dynamic and THANK YOU so much for loving on them!!!! carrie x dougie brainrot is REAL!!!! <33333 PLEASE ENJOY!!!!! :D

stay the night

(a/n): carrie x dougie, with a hint of angst, featuring a smidge of episode 5 in all its sad, grief-filled, angsty glory. if you squint, you can get some vivian x blakely in there as well - a prelude to them and an upcoming piece! <3 if you want to read a piece for a bit of an idea as to what both carrie and dougie discuss in the second half of this piece, highly recommend didn't think you'd notice as a starter! as always, please enjoy! carrie x dougie here fill my heart with all good stuff! :)

Carrie's head had begun to nod off at the bar.

Between the highest levels of exhaustion she'd been feeling in ages, the numbing realization that hundreds of men were being lost everyday, and a few piloting crews were out 50% of their men, meant she was on edge now more than ever.

And to top it off, Blakely's crew was missing - no one had seen them go down, nor had anyone seen their plane come back. And it'd been two days.

Everyone was feeling some sort of pain that they were trying to push away with light music, a little alcohol and the remaining crews.

After the Silver Bullets crew was split up, much to the highest distaste and dislike of both Annie and Francis; Annie, Bessie, Kennedy and Margie had gotten transferred to a new plane crew - co-ed. First of it's kind.

They were spread thin, they needed vets with the rookies. Some people got the short end of the stick - where there was no more flying and simply the Operation room as their closest companion.

That was Carrie.

Staring at maps all day, marking bombing runs with some of the navigators, filling holes where they were needed. She wasn't a map-keeper, she was a goddamn bombardier. But she didn't even bother to open her mouth.

Stress was high, tensions thick and everyone was trying to keep it together around her it seemed.

Annie was usually flying in the air or on training duty or in meetings more often than not, staving away any sort of reality that there was at this time.

Francis was nowhere to be found unless she was needed on a mission with her own co-ed flying death trap.

Bucky was gone to England with no idea that Buck, alongside DeMarco, were both MIA, along with Margie doing everything it seemed to ignore the obvious.

Judy was placed into a new crew - Rosie's Riveters - and every time Carrie saw her, squeezed the living daylights out of that poor girl when she could. Judy was a little sister to all of them. Knowing she was separated from the rest of the crew, Carrie considered going to church.

Marianne was stuck in Operations with Carrie - and she always brought Frank - which seemed to be the highlights of peoples' days when that fat orange cat would come around. Though, Marianne was fighting sleep most days, the stress becoming far too much for all of them.

Paulina was still Radio Ops, but she wasn't flying anymore - days and nights she spent beside Operations, translating and recording and writing until her hands damn-near broke.

Now, she was nursing a beer, cuddled up beside Hambone Hamilton across the bar, talking in the quietest voice anyone had ever heard from the woman. They were really all going through it.

And on top of all that, Vivian Ratcliff was spiraling beside Carrie this fine evening, trying not to lose her mind. Everyone knew how rough it was for her after losing James - they were supposed to get married, she wanted to have kids with him, he was planning to pop the question after the war.

Ev Blakely had become a good friend to her, a real good friend, probably closer than either of them had thought or even seen coming, but now, she was onto her second beer and sitting there with nothing but tears in her eyes and a blank face. Carrie was going to tell her to finish her drink and head to bed soon by this point; it hurt Carrie to see Viv like this. Ever since coming to England, it's been bad spell after bad spell for the waist gunner.

"Holy shit, it's Blakely's crew!"

Carrie's whole body froze. There were cheers and yelling and voices and a clammer of footsteps along the wooden floor to her left and she slowly turned her head to see, there coming through the door was Blakely, Crosby and Douglass. Carrie couldn't move, watching as guys hugged one another, slapped each other on the back and fell into their normal banter routine of laughter, cackles and drink offerings.

Carrie could only watch. And her eyes fell specifically right to Douglass. Stood there, his hair unruly, a few bloodied scars on his face, a wide smile on his lips as he laughed and eyes so soft she was sure if she could get her legs moving, she would be over there right now, trying to keep it together.

Carrie watched the group disperse, drinks a promise from Brady and Crank, and took to watching Dougie who was offered a beer which he took with a smile, before his eyes started roaming around. Her heart began to pound inside of her chest. Before-

"Ev!" Carrie looked up and over and watched as Vivian had looked up, jaw dropping open, a few stray tears lingering in the corners of her eyes, as she slid off the stool and hurried over towards Blakely. Carrie's heart warmed as her eyes tore off of Dougie to watch as Blakely whipped his head around, a grin blowing up on his face like some sort of hot air balloon, pushing through a few of the guys to meet Viv halfway.

When they met, it was a sort of bone-crushing looking hug, with her arms wrapped around his neck and Blakely's….rather-large form cocooning Viv against him there.

Carrie watched as Viv's form trembled a bit against him - she was sure Viv was shedding a few tears that she'd been trying her best to hold in the last few days - and watched as Blakely said something clearly enough to make her laugh.

And then, Carrie was looking over towards Dougie again, and found his eyes already on her. A beer bottle halfway to her lips and her eyes blown wide open, she slowly placed the bottle down and awkwardly lifted her hand to wave.

Why the hell was she waving?

The man had probably just seen death and she decided to wave?

Lowering her hand, she watched as Dougie smiled at her, offering a small wave her way. He knocked Brady in the shoulder, stood beside him and then began walking over towards her, a small grin riding his face.

Briefly, incredibly briefly in Carrie's mind, she remembered that feeling of kissing Dougie - and the fact that immediately afterwards, she had been pulling herself from him, mumbling about being drunk, and then avoiding him the entirety of the rest of the night. Only for the mission to be called that night, and she had found herself disappearing for the night to her cot, not telling a soul that she had been kissing James Douglass just an hour previous.

And when the news had broke that Blakely's plane had disappeared and gone down? And she hadn't said a goddamn word to Dougie the next morning, promptly ignoring him, she found herself ripped with guilt.

And now - he was here, he was back and standing right in front of her, and her only thought was that she was speechless. She didn't know what to say in that moment, and was having a rather hard time deciding if she should be upset or angry or overjoyed or pissed off.

She couldn't sort it out.

And with him standing here, after those two days, she was half-convinced she could just kiss him on the mouth and it'd be better than any other reaction she could've had.

"Hi." he said.

"Hi." she found herself saying back, fighting to say more, but keeping her walls up and closed in on every inch of herself. She was pissed the plane had gone down, that she had allowed herself to be beyond worried sick for him. She was pissed she had let herself feel like that. She was pissed he was standing here now and she was speechless and didn't have more to say.

Carrie stared at his face a little while longer, those bloodied scars along his face, his unruly hair, his kind eyes. She felt her heart begin to race.

"You should get those cuts looked at." she said quickly, her voice sounding choppy, her tone sounding fake. She sounded out of place, nervous, and flustered. She didn't sound like her.

"I will." he said with a smile, before drifting his eyes over her form and meeting her gaze again.

"Are you okay?" she asked, almost mechanically, "When I heard-"

"All good." he said, his fingers twitching near his hip, "You?" Carrie's face grew hot.

"Me?" she choked out, clearing her throat, "Fine, fine, I…I should be making sure you are." Her heart was beginning to pound harder inside her chest.

"Do you want to talk?" he asked her, before dropping his voice, "Somewhere not here?" She blinked, feeling her face turn a deeper red, before slowly nodding.

"Yeah." she said quietly, taking one more sip of beer before slowly moving to her feet, closing a few inches between them, the space between their faces minute for a split second before she stepped away from the bar, "Where to?"

"We can go outside." he said, meeting her eyes before patting the bar table and turning.

Following him out of the room and to the darkened outside world made her feel dizzy - she was sweating, red in the face, hyperaware of his presence, the way he had looked at her, and every single urge she had felt upon seeing him. Dougie stepped outside and she followed him around the corner of the hut, where for the time being, they were hidden from anyone's view.

For a moment, all they did was stare at each other, listening to the quiet rumble of their breathing, the distant voices, the chirping of mid-fall crickets and bugs holed up in trees. In the dark, she found it easier to breathe than when she had been stood inches from him at the bar.

The anticipation was killing her on the inside in every way possible - the lack of speaking (something not at all normal for either of them), they way all they could seem to do was stare (which yet again, was not normal), and the way Dougie was watching her now (she couldn't get her mind to work).

"I thought you were dead." Carrie said - quickly - her voice sounding rushed, as she met his gaze, "When they told us the plane hadn't made it back. And that the others had gone down, gotten hit. After hearing about Major Cleven's plane-"

"Carrie." Dougie said, stepping forward and gently placing his hands on her shoulders, "It's okay." He offered a small smile. "We're here now." Carrie watched him, the feel of his hands on her shoulders, his gaze on her, body inches from her own.

"But you know it's more than that." Carrie found herself saying as she stood there, "You know that." For a moment, Dougie just watched her - as if a bit dumbfounded and confused.

"Whatever is going on between us," Carrie managed out, shakily meeting his eyes, "I can't deal with it. It's suffocating. When I heard the plane had disappeared over IP - that you were on that plane. You, Dougie. I couldn't breathe." She blinked rapidly for a moment.

"Knowing the way we'd left things, and how I'd left things and now you're standing here in front of me and I'm blabbering like an idiot." Carrie said, "And I could barely sleep because I felt so guilty that I'd just left you there and then thought you had died. But now you're standing here and still alive and I….." She trailed off and grew quiet, before meeting his gaze. She knew something was wrong with her because the longer she stared at Dougie's calm and rather composed face, the more she could feel herself calming down. The presence of his hands, his eyes, him.

"I know." Dougie said quietly, taking a small step forward between them, that small smile on his face growing as she peered up into his eyes, "You okay? Don't need you losing your breath, huh?" Carrie managed a crack of a smile on her lips, before she found her eyes welling with tears.

"You're just saying that to not rile me up." she managed out, hoping her attempt at a joking tone was evident.

"Oh am I?" he asked with a laugh, his warm hand appearing on her cheek, his thumb brushing over the scars left behind from her time in the sky, left behind by the war, the memories scathed across her face, "You think that's what I'm trying to do?"

"It's usually what you're trying to do." she whispered, eyes flicking to his lips for a brief moment before meeting his gaze upwards again, "You're just like that."

"With you I am." he said, his face lingering closer, his dark eyes inviting her into him it felt.

"With me?" she whispered, her hands finding their way to the front of his B3, gripping the leather tightly as she stared up at him with a slightly watery gaze, "So, you do it just to piss me off?"

"Sometimes." he said with an almost surprised, gruff chuckle to follow that made her heart twist, "I also know it makes you laugh so…."

"Makes me laugh, huh?" she whispered as his other hand traveled down to her waist, his grip tight as he watched her in the darkness, "Not always."

"How so?" he whispered back, "I know you, Bergie." Carrie watched him - and she could feel her insides calm. It was true. He did know her. He really did. Just like in this moment.

He knew her.

With Dougie pressed so close to her, his gaze persistent in front of her own, her own eyes scoring the blood across his face, the damage of war done to someone she wanted to protect suddenly with her life, she couldn't help but let out a quiet laugh.

"What're you laughing at now?" he whispered, "I didn't even get the chance to say anything funny." Carrie laughed again and shook her head.

"You know the first time I met you, I couldn't stand that carpet on your face?" Carrie whispered quietly, "I thought it looked like a squirrel, or….I don't know…a mangled bird." Dougie let out a laugh.

"A mangled bird, are you crazy?" he whispered, his thumb brushing on her cheek as his grin grew.

"Maybe." she whispered back.

"At least Ev appreciates the 'stache." he said and Carrie chuckled at his words, before going quiet, simply gazing up at his eyes, her own smile growing.

"What?" he asked her, "You always got that look on your face, you know that? When you look at me."

"I know." she whispered, her smile growing, her boldness flickering at the edges. Dougie watched her, his tender eyes quiet and content, and Carrie was sure she could spend the rest of the night simply staring at his face, memorizing that look in his eyes, the closeness of his face, all those little bits of his eyes you never saw until you were up close. She almost couldn't take the pounding of her heart anymore.

"I had wanted to kiss you, by the way," Carrie said quietly, "when we had danced together. And I guess….it scared me what it could mean. Especially during the war. And then it sort of came true. The possibility of losing you then. After they told me." Dougie smirked at her, before leaning closer to her, his eyes looking tired and lazy, his smile wide.

"Fuck the war." he whispered, before he leaned forward fully, his lips meeting hers.

It was a desperate kiss, she will admit fully - especially from herself. Clinging onto him, hands curled into the front of his B3, trying to pull him as close as she could, her mind a scattered array of thoughts as all she could focus on was his lips on her own.

Of course, the first time it had happened, she had been slightly buzzed, a little out of sorts, and taken off guard. Yet she had enjoyed every second.

Now, it was familiar, comfortable and safe. And she had never felt more wanted. It felt as if there was a million unsaid words between them in this moment, rooted in passion, desperation and grief that couldn't be described in any other way. Her hands were in his hair at one point, his cradling her face, her heart continuing to pound inside her chest. She felt out-of-body, like she didn't know what was happening to her.

When they had pulled apart, faces still inches from each other, trying to catch some sort of breath in this moment, all Carrie could do was stare up at him.

"What?" he asked her, his voice rich with warmth and what nearly felt like adoration in his tone.

She couldn't seem to get words in her mind and out of her mouth.

She was in love, she knew that much.

Softly, she gave him a gentle kiss before pulling back.

"Nothing to worry your pretty little face about." she whispered, as he chuckled. In that quiet moment, where they could only just watch the other, a soft red lit clicked on somewhere around the corner, near the door to the flying club. It hit the side of Dougie's face gently, and in a sinking realization, she saw the smile on his face drop, mirroring her own.

They both knew what that meant - another mission. Another mission. Dougie let out a quiet sigh, leaning forward to rest his forehead against her own.

"I can stay the night, y'know. If it'd make you feel better." he whispered. They were walking a very thin line.

"Please do."

[pizzabox-box]

Have you noticed that I color the title in a very specific way?

Blind Man's Bluff, Part 6

Dougie Jones clicked through the film on his computer frame by frame, only vaguely listening to the voice on the other end of the phone. With the exception of the chef's conflict with His Loudness, which was honestly to be expected, the premier had gone off without a hitch. So why did the Pizzard still feel like he had missed something in his editing process?

"Dougie? Did you hear me?" Dougie jumped at the Australian voice calling his name, and glanced around the room in bewilderment. It was almost 4 am. Dougie sighed. "Apologies, Your Tawnyness, I'm afraid I wasn't paying attention," he said, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. He heard a sigh on the end of the line. "Sorry about that," Mr. Orange apologized, "I guess I forgot how late it must be over there." "No, no, it's not late at all," the Pizzard chuckled dryly. "In fact, it's really quite early!"

Then he grew serious again. "And at any rate, that isn't my difficulty at the moment," he said, leaning back towards the monitor. Noise's brother sounded concerned as he asked, "Is Theo still out of it?" Dougie nodded before remembering that Mr. Orange couldn't see him. "I'm afraid so," he said, thinking to himself, maybe I am tired... Mr. Orange sighed, then continued, "Well, I'll be on the plane over there sometime tonight anyway, so I can check him out for myself when I get there. Crikey, it's been over five years since we've spoken in person, hasn't it..."

Dougie nodded in confirmation, beginning to tune the Australian out again in favor of his work. He was in the middle of that terrible fight with the blue-clad intruder, and that feeling of dread returned. Something was clearly wrong with this scene. It wasn't the fact that His Loudness had decided to keep the scene in, no, no, no. That wasn't surprising coming from the chaotic gremlin. No, it was something else...

"Well, tell Theo I'm worried about him, all right? I know he's not the uh, most stable person in the world, but this is weird, even for him!" Mr. Orange snorted to make his point. A long silence came from the other end of the phone. Mr. Orange grew concerned. "Dougie? Everything all right over there?" Still no answer. "Dougie Jones?"

The Pizzard stared at the screen in abstract horror, frozen in his seat. He couldn't look away from those frightened red eyes, being flung helplessly into oblivion. Mouth suddenly parched, he barely managed to get the words out.

"This is not Theodore Noise."

Then he felt a jolt of pain in the back of his skull, and fell to the floor unconscious.

Mr. Orange heard the body hit the ground and stood up immediately. "Dougie?! What's going on?!" he shouted, heart pounding furiously. He heard the phone get hung up, and stared at his own device in shock, trying to comprehend the last words he had heard from his brother's assistant. Horror trickled down his spine as his blood ran cold. All he knew was that he needed to get on the fastest jet in Sydney immediately.

Dougie Jones slowly regained consciousness, and glanced about himself in a daze. A few seconds later, he was wide awake as the gravity of the situation became apparent. He had been bound and gagged, and was now perched precariously on the diving board of the Noises' swimming pool. Right in front of him, tied to his feet with a short rope, was a large boulder, almost as big as he was. The sun was beginning to rise - he had been knocked out for at least two hours.

The Pizzard tried to free himself in a sudden panic. Not only had his captor tied his arms tightly behind his back, but he had taken the time to intricately bind his fingers together with sewing thread, preventing him from using any magic to escape. Clearly, the menace was a master at his craft. Dougie was unable to call for help, and it didn't seem likely that assistance would arrive in time, anyway.

"Good! You're finally awake." Dougie jumped and turned towards the voice. He saw someone who looked like the Noise laid out on a lounge chair, sunglasses on and sipping a margarita. But this definitely was not the Noise, and it became instantly apparent when the villain lifted his lenses, revealing that terrible blue eye. The Doise smirked triumphantly. "I thought that you might take all the fun out of this for a while there," he chuckled as he stood up and walked towards his captive.

Dougie glared at Doise with fury as the imposter put his foot on the large stone and looked him in the eye. "Listen, pal," the poser began, "if you hadn't decided to get all nosy on me, we wouldn't be having this conversation. The only person you have to blame for this is yourself." Doise gave a smug grin as he said this, relishing the feeling of superiority he got from the situation. Dougie trembled in rage, as he tried once more to free his hands so he could hex the killer. Doise laughed. "Keep trying, buddy! It won't do you any good."

He looked at the trapped Pizzard contemplatively, amused by how small he looked. He took a breath then continued. "You know, I really can't afford to have this whole thing come out! So I'm afraid I have no choice but to get rid of you. Nothing personal, of course! It's just survival."

Dougie's eyes widened as Doise stood up. "I wonder how long it will take them to find your body? A couple hours? A few months? Either way, I'll already have caught my ride at the Tower ruins, long gone!" Dougie made one last desperate attempt to break his bonds, but the ropes held fast. Doise chuckled. "Enjoy your bath, buster! And don't worry.

"I'll take good care of the missus."

With that, Doise shoved the rock off the diving board with his foot. Dougie Jones was dragged into the water with it, going in over his head with a loud splash. He thrashed about, bewildered, before his vision cleared and he could see under the water. The light began to dim and he looked up, just in time to see Doise waving a cheerful goodbye, makeup running down his face, as he pulled the pool cover closed.

The faithful servant thrashed against the ropes, doing everything he could to break free. He tried to cut his bonds on the stone, but couldn't find an edge that worked. Despite his efforts to hold his breath, he was quickly running out of air. He looked up at the pool cover one last time, desperate. His vision was starting to dim, but he thought he could see His Loudness and the chef silhouetted against the tarp by the light of dawn. What were they doing here...? Was it really Noise... or that imposter...? Though he tried to keep his eyes open just a little bit longer, he started to fade from consciousness...

Brick broke through the tarp with a loud splash, bringing a screaming Gustavo with him. Peppino was barely two seconds behind them, screeching to a halt at the water's edge. "Chi diavolo?" he remarked, bewildered at the rat's sudden decision to go swimming at a time like this. They had just arrived at Noise's property a few seconds before, only to find the large house abandoned. Peppino was frustrated. They didn't have time for this!

Gustavo came gasping to the surface, blinking furiously. "Peppino!" the gnome shouted, "There's someone down here!" That was enough for the Italian chef to jump into the swimming pool after his companions, bold determination on his face. After taking a moment to regain his vision, he spotted Brick trying to bring Dougie Jones back to the surface. Though the rat had succeeded in dragging the weight around the bottom of the pool, he couldn't quite lift it.

Peppino swam to the rat's assistance, Gustavo directly behind him. Gustavo started trying to untie the Pizzard, but Peppino snorted and lifted the boulder above his head, albeit with some difficulty. The trio managed to get back to the edge of the pool by working together, and dragged the unconscious man onto dry land. Without even bothering to catch his breath, Peppino got up, tore the gag out of Dougie's mouth, and started conducting CPR on him. Gustavo and Brick looked on, anxiously.

After several agonizingly long minutes, Dougie gasped for breath and awoke. Peppino got back as the Pizzard sat up and started coughing violently, trying to expell the water from his lungs. He opened his eyes and looked around at his rescuers, trying to get his thoughts back in order as he struggled to catch his breath. "Lady Noisette - " he managed to gasp out, before beginning another coughing fit. Peppino put his hand on his shoulder. "We know," he told Dougie, "focus on getting your breath back for now." As Dougie continued coughing and gasping, slowly but surely beginning to breathe normally again, the two chefs and their rat set to work untying him.

Finally, Dougie was able to speak clearly. "His Loudness, he's been impersonated - " he began. Peppino nodded. "We know, we know, do you know where he took Noisette?" he asked urgently, grabbing the weakened man by both shoulders, shaking him slightly in his anxiety. Dougie coughed a bit more, then responded: "Tower - *cough* - Tower ruins! I think he's planning to - *cough cough* - flee the country!"

Peppino stood up immediately, looking towards the all-too familiar cliff. "Gus, stay with him," he barked at his friend. The gnome looked up in dismay. "Peppino, wait!" Gustavo shouted, reaching his hand out for the chef.

But with the sound of tires screeching and a wild yell, Peppino had already disappeared.

The next part should be the finale, but depending on how long it is, I may do an epilog

<<< Previous

Well, dang this part was intense 👀 I loved it! Glad the gang arrived in time, the loss of Dougie Jones would be tragic.. Very excited for the finale! Go get that bastard!

[teosartcorner]

The Boys, Jack And The Magic Herb 🥃🌿

(WIP!)

POV: You (Malcolm) need to restock your magic herb supply, so you decide to pay your resourceful friend (Dougie) a visit. But, you know how it's like—you can’t come over to your mate's place without staying for a little while, right? So here you are now, the two of you, a bit drunk and a bit high, talking about very deep stuff. 👏🏻🤣

I really needed some silliness in my life, aaand there was this Robert Plant & Jimmy Page photo that kept being on my mind, so... I decided to doodle something that had a somewhat similar vibe, but featuring my boys. 😂

I plan to finish this one (and write their dialogue, too) at some point, but I like the sketch well enough, so it goes here. 👀✨️

[hischiersjohnston]

NJD @ NYI | 10.20.2023

dougie hamilton scores in the first period

[hellogoodbyegirl]

bootiful picture of Supertramp I found on Roger's website archived from 2003

[suekre]

After my little reblogging spree I idiot-fied my friend Teo's ( @teosartcorner ) characters, because I love them too much. 🤣👏💖✨️ I'm not a hundred percent happy with this; I actually wanted to draw a fake screenshot, but well, there's always another time and there are many guys left to draw in Teo's D&B-Verse, so it'll happen at SOME point. 👀😁✨️

From left to right: Malcolm "Angel hair" Macaulay, Dougie "Please get me out of here." Graham and Brandy "Bombshell" Larue (Macaulay-to-be).

Please stop by at Teo's tumblr and throw some love at her, will ya?! It'd be my perfect Holiday present. 👀✨️🫶🏻💖

---

Another version without the blotchy background colour:

[mavibonghostexpress]

Heyooo! I know it’s been a while but, perhaps the Dougie boi?

Ehe

[cursivebloodlines]

☕️  - for dougie :)

🍎 ｡:*• ─ IT’S CHRISTMAS TIME !     ›    ( a symbol meme for muses who want to do something special and fun together this christmas / holiday season.) | @overnightheartbeats

send a symbol for our muses to: ☕️   ─  drink something warm and/or festive ( either at home, at a coffeeshop, christmas market, etc… )

Christmas had been Dougie’s favourite time of the year ever since he was a little boy. He loved it all: the bustling markets packed with treats and trinkets, sampling the drinks and delicacies said markets had to offer, watching the glimmering Christmas lights as they brighten the neighbourhoods, wrapping up warm in cosy jumpers, watching Christmas movies, the music (yes, he was one of those people who would declare it being Christmas as soon as Halloween finishes and immediately blast Christmas songs - he was like this from childhood, before it became The Thing), buying gifts for the people he loved and just the atmosphere. How magical it all felt, even when life itself could feel like a downer or a drag. It never failed to lift his spirits up especially when he needed it most. To quote that one famous song: he wished it could be Christmas everyday.

So naturally, it was his idea to suggest venturing to one of the many Christmas markets and explore what they had to offer this year. Perhaps going out and doing festive activities with his ex-girlfriend wasn’t the brightest of ideas but he didn’t care - there was nobody else he would rather do these things with. Besides, how else were they going to try and navigate this tricky part of their relationship, being friends and starting over, if they didn’t actively hang out and do things together? His feelings for her were all over the place but the more he thought about it, the more he realised he would rather have her in his life than not at all. Dougie already lost her once; he didn’t want to lose her again. There’s a part of him unsure whether he could survive losing her all over again. Despite this, trust was a vital necessity needed to rebuilt for them to have any kind of relationship. Romantic or platonic, and honestly…the line between the two could be a struggle at times.  But there was a time and place where he could dwell on them. And being here, spending time with Laurel was no place he would rather be. 

They idly chit-chatted as the meandered throughout the hustle and bustle, buying random little trinkets from the stalls, or taking photos of each other or selfies together whenever an opportunity presented itself, taking it all in as the sight of something caught Dougie’s attention: a couple walking past, hot chocolate filled to the brim of their cups, topped with plenty of whipped cream and sprinkles. His eyes lit up like a little kid, and he turned to face Laurel, a twinkle in his eye that made it very clear on their next plans. Before she had the chance to potentially object, he took her hand in his and followed the pair with the lovely drink in each of their hands. “Hi, excuse me? Excuse me please - er, sorry… Sorry…hi,” Doug uttered sheepishly as he raced to stand in front of them before they could walk off. The cold could be to blame, but his cheeks burned red, like it was embarrassing to randomly approach a couple of strangers all just to discover where they could get their hands on the mouthwatering delight in front of them. “So sorry to bother you,” he once again couldn’t help but apologise (some things never change), fingertips unintentionally squeezing Laurel’s hand gently. The action feeling like the most natural thing ever, just like old times. When he looked at her, amusement twinkled in her eyes, probably at the way he was starting to babble word vomit. Despite this, the smile she was trying to hide, he didn’t feel like quite the idiot he must’ve looked at. In fact, for some reason or another, he felt more assured. Like it sent a flicker of encouragement, like her mere presence offered him comfort in a time where he’d be feeling really silly or probably wouldn’t have even approached these random people to ask about their hot chocolate in the first place. Maybe she was just rubbing off on him, he liked the thought of that, it brought a smile upon his own lips. Momentarily getting distracted by being too busy admiring his ex-girlfriend, he cleared his throat to break his own thoughts as he glanced to the people in front of him, a timid, awkward smile gracing his lips. “I’m sorry to bother you but those hot choccies just looked too tempting and I had to ask - would you mind telling me… us um,” Doug paused to clear his throat before trying to finish his question. “Could you tell us or point us in the right direction so we can get one of our own? Please?” Was it possible to get redder and redder as his rambling continued? He could blame the cold but all of them probably knew otherwise. Getting flustered was his biggest talent. However, the people were lovely and helpful, advising where to go. With this newfound knowledge in tow, he thanked them profusely, wished them a very Merry Christmas and continued their quest to find the hot chocolate stand!

A few minutes later, lo and behold, they finally reached it. If it hadn’t been for Laurel pointing it out to him, he probably would have walked straight past it. Approaching the stand, he bought them both a hot chocolate each, customised to their contentment. Dougie, being Dougie, when posed with the difficult choice of deciding, he was stumped. Looking blankly from all the choices and endless combinations…To save time, he opted for everything. Which didn’t save time at all, considering that it took time for them to add all the toppings. They even asked him if he was sure which made him a tad uncertain, but with a bashful smile and an affirmed nod of his head, they obliged. His hot chocolate looked like a colourful, eclectic bundle of chaos. So much whipped cream, sauces of different flavours, ones he had no idea of what they were, topped with marshmallows and sprinkles and who knows what else. What can he say? He always had a sweet tooth. Besides, it was Christmas - there were no limitations at the most wonderful time of the year! There was probably more ‘everything else’ and probably less hot chocolate. To put it simply, his definitely looked more appealing in his head than in reality, and if he put a side by side view of expectations versus reality there probably would’ve been a biiiiiit of a difference, maybe he went a bit too far with everything else but he didn’t mind. Lesson learned, and he was going to drink his bloody hot chocolate! Paying for the drinks and offering a polite thanks, Dougie passed Laurel her hot chocolate with gleaming eyes and a bright smile and they found the perfect spot to sit and enjoy their drinks. Away from the hustle and bustle of it all but still in the vicinity, beautifully decorated with pretty lights and a massive, decorated outdoor Christmas tree in the centre of it all. A perfect view for them to sip away at. “Thanks for coming here with me, doing all… well, uh, this. It’s been great. Really lovely, and I’m hoping you had fun too,” he said, his eyes unable to contain the amount of love he still had for her. Lifting his cup up slightly, he added, “Cheers,” with a warm, lighthearted laugh, before clinking his cup against hers. Like the Cheshire cat, he could not wipe the smile off of his face if he tried. In an imperfect world and situation, this moment felt like the most perfect thing he’d experienced in years. He raised the cup to his lips, briefly blowing on it to cool it down - albeit what good would that do since the drink itself was covered by the various toppings - as he took a sip of his drink. A thoughtful hum left his lips.

“Huh. Better than I thought actually, bit sweet but not overly sweet, considering…” he mused before offering the drink to her whilst Laurel was in the middle of drinking hers. “Do you want to try? Go onnnnn, you know you wanna,” he persuaded, wiggling the cup in front of her face as if it would tempt her some more. Doug’s grin widened as she passed her cup to hold in the mean time, and he swapped it for his for her to try. He was transfixed on her, his eyes full of love and adoration. It was the happiest he’d been in a long time, and it felt relief knowing how they could simply…be. How despite their situation, this was the most normal he’d felt in a long while. Normal, but also not normal. It was too odd to explain, but either way. Here? Now? This moment? This moment was everything. “How was it? That taste alright?” Dougie laughed as Laurel returned his drink to him, handing over her drink back. She was just perfect. The smile she gave him, the sound of her laugh. She was truly mesmerising, he’d never been so in love. His gaze travelled down to her lips as he realised some of the cream had stuck to her. Chuckling softly, he gestured to his own face as an indicator. “You’ve got um,” he said, the doting smile etched across his face growing wider as she seemed to miss the spot every time. “It’s okay. Here, um, let me,” his voice was soft, gentle. Like part of him was unsure but he went anyway, leaning in a little closer to make sure he got it. His thumb gently swiping against her lips, his tongue darting out to wet his own lips as he resisted the temptation to replace his thumb with his mouth. Swallowing thickly, as if that would eliminate all thoughts he had, it only made the urge stronger. Dougie considered it as he retracted his thumb, his eyes meeting her then glancing down once again. If only, if only. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t kissed her before. But this was different, they were different. And they were doing good. This was going well. He was too much of a coward, but it was hard to think straight when his heart was pounding in his chest, his stomach filled with the flapping wings of butterflies driving him crazy. How was he able to focus on anything when she was so close to him? When his thoughts were suddenly swimming and his stomach doing flips? Why did it feel like falling in love with Laurel for the first time all over again? 

“Got it,” he simply said, trying to steady his breathing pattern, trying to conceal the fact that every thought swirling around in his mind was just about her. Only her. “All better.”

[comfethan]

I LOVE MY WIFEEEE

[cursivebloodlines]

@overnightheartbeats

Marmalade (2024)

[wexhappyxfew]

31. pinky swear from the touch prompt list please!! really i’d love this prompt for all three pairings but maybe carrie and dougie?

- @parajumpboots 💜💜

HI PERI!!!!! ( @parajumpboots ) 🥹 thank you so so much for stopping by and dropping this wonderful little prompt in - it was so fun to fill and write, especially for carrie and dougie!! they’re so fun to write and play around with in context! :) thank you again and please enjoy! <3

you pinky promise?

(a/n): this can be seen a bit as a part 2 to THIS piece i wrote a little while back, but they don’t have to be read together at all, so! please enjoy carrie and dougie and their antics hehe :)

Day was fading to night and she was still feeling like she'd been run over by a truck.

Everything ached, her head was woozy, her throat dry and scratchy, her nose running like it was something fierce, and everything just seemed so loud and in her face. It had been only a matter of time before she would get sick with something like this - even as a kid in school, she'd catch anything that ran through that building, whether from other kids or the seasonal changes of the weather.

And now, she was here, trapped in a cot in the Med-Bay, listening to distant screams from people in Triage or others in the sickness wing launching up lunch. Curled on her side, she stared lazily up towards the window where the sunset was starting to dance across the sky, a beautiful array of colors flickering across, mixed with clouds and nightfall, the blue and purple hues dotting with stars.

At least the sky was having a grand old time.

"How ya feeling, Bergie?" Carrie stiffened for a moment and then shifted, glancing up and over her shoulder to see Dougie. Dougie. Surprise-surprise.

"Okay." she answered, before turning back and resting her swimming head against the pillow and staring up at the sky again, "Queasy." She heard Dougie let a puff of air leave his lips in a response for laughter before a chair screeched against the floor and was pulled up at her side. Slowly, she looked towards him, sat in the chair, lighting up a cigarette and letting the smoke blow upwards.

"You serious?" she murmured.

"Ah, c'mon, just for a sec." he said, talking around the cigarette on his lip, as she rolled her eyes and adjusted onto her back, looking towards him.

"Just a sec, huh?" she said, "I bet even if I could pay you the largest sum of money in the world, that thing wouldn't leave your lips."

"Since when did you become so concerned with me and this cigarette?"

"Because I feel sick enough as it is, Dougie, and you're lighting it up in front of me." she said with a deadpan stare and he raised his hands in defense and then popped it off his lip and stubbed it out.

"Better?"

"You're a real sweetheart, ya know that?" Carrie murmured and he made a face, which she mocked back, "So. What's up?"

"Figured you wanted to hear about Lieutenant Bradshaw nearly throwing me overboard." Dougie offered rather expressively as his eyes grew wide and he held out his hands, "I promise, if you want to have a laugh, I am more than willing to offer it."

"At your own humiliating expense?"

"Precisely." Carrie laughed and then sighed, before smiling slightly.

"Well, go on, then," she urged him on, bringing the blanket up over her form a bit more, "you've got me invested now. There's no backing out."

"I can never back out of these sorts of things, can I?"

"Dougie. Story. Now." Dougie smirked and then leaned forward against his knees, before chuckling.

"Well, first-off, she called me Bergie I don't know how many fucking times-"

"That's because, uh, hello genius, I'm usually the bombardier here, alright-"

"Anyway," Dougie said, sending her a look, which made her smile slightly, "after calling me Bergie, I started making jokes back, ya know, try to give the feel that you probably give Lieutenant Bradshaw, when she basically has to hand the fort over."

"So you're saying I'm funny." Carrie said, with a soft smirk his way, "Thank you for that." Dougie looked to her and for a moment, they just watched each other, before they both broke out into laughter.

"That's a bit of a stretch, Bergie-"

"No, it ain't, you said it with a straight face!" Dougie looked to her and raised a brow and she raised her own back.

"Fine, yes, I realize that you usually try to get people laughing and I figured Lieutenant Bradshaw would appreciate it, so…." Dougie shrugged, "whatever makes you sleep at night."

"Asshole." Carrie murmured, before grinning, "So, what she'd say?" Dougie leaned back in his chair and then smiled wide.

"Well, we landed, right?" he said, "Bes is well, to be the nicest I can be, looking at me like I just bet on a losing horse, and then Lieutenant Bradshaw comes down from the cockpit and chews me out. Pretty sure Bes and Francis got front row seats to my funeral on that one." Carrie let out a bark of laughter and cough rather wetly, which wasn't the most pleasant sounding, but Dougie seemed to hardly care less, as he shook his head with a chuckle.

"God, she went 'Why do I have you doing Bergie impressions in my ear, Douglass! We're here to drop bombs, not put on a show for rich-fucks!'" Dougie said with a laugh and Carrie let out a string of laughter, her head falling back, just as the sight she got in her head,

"It was bad, I gotta admit."

"You really outdid yourself there." Carrie said with a snort, "C'mon, show me it." Dougie looked at her and raised a brow, and with what strength she had, she reached forward and punched his shoulder.

"Your impression of me, asshole," she said, "c'mon, I know it oughta be good enough for 25,000 feet in the air, huh?" Dougie looked to her and his face softened for a brief moment, before he gathered his bearings.

"'This shit tastes like it was cooked on the goddamn barnburner you call an engine!'" Dougie said, in a ridiculously accurate, rather high-pitched voice that made Carrie wheeze to the point all she could was cough wetly, and had to recover.

"I do not sound like that." she managed out, wetly coughing again and pointing a finger at home, "But that is absolutely something I'd say."

"See?" Dougie said leaning forward, grabbing the cup of water at the side of her cot and handing it to her, "No wonder I pissed off Lieutenant Bradshaw so much, she probably thought I was trying to make her lose her mind." She took the cup and drank some water down slowly, and then smiled.

"Got that right," Carrie said with a laugh, before catching his gaze, and placing down the water, "that or you hang around me far too often." Dougie smirked, watching her for a moment as it grew quiet between them. But then he shrugged and she looked away and he scratched his neck.

"Listen, I don't want to bother you much more, you're not feeling great so…." Dougie made to stand, but Carrie looked up at him, before reaching out and grabbing at his arm.

"It's okay," she said, her grip loosening on the sleeve of his A-2, as she realized how suddenly desperate she looked for him to stay (she didn't want to come across like that good Lord), "I'm not exactly tired yet, so….don't feel you have to go." Dougie looked down at her and then smiled softly, before she let go and he settled himself down into the chair again.

"Well, you better heal on up quicker then if I decide to hang around a little while longer, got that? I think Bes was gonna sucker-punch me in the nose of Silver Bullets," Dougie said, "she missed you." Carrie smiled warmly at the thought of Bessie and pulled the blanket tighter around her form and nodded.

"I can promise you, right now, not focusing on the fact I feel like shit is probably the best thing for me," she said, in a slightly joking tone, but genuinely honest one as well, "but I promise, alright?" Dougie watched her and then sent her a look.

"You pinky promise?" he asked her, holding out a pinky towards her. She stared between his pinky finger and his face and felt her shoulders loosen.

"Fine, yes," she said, looping her finger through his and smirking, "you just miss me out there in the chow line messing with your coffee that bad, huh?" Dougie looked at her, pulling a face in her direction.

"Where the hell would you even get that idea?" Dougie said, "And plus, when you do mess with my coffee, and let's just say it isn't entirely detrimental, adding more cream or sugar isn't exactly a negative in my sense."

"It's going to clog up your organs with shit." Carrie said and Dougie raised a brow.

"And here we are. Back again to Bergie Achterberg being so wonderfully concerned with my health," Dougie said, "you wanna write to my Ma? Ask for my birth forms too now, huh? That or you really are trying to get your karma out on me? Clogging up my organs with shit, huh?" Carrie watched him and then unlooped her pinky and sat back against the bed.

"Clogging up your organs with sugar and unhealthy stuff, Dougie," she said, before pulling the blanket up more, "must I repeat it?"

"Please do." Carrie cracked an eye open and watched as Dougie started chuckling and she did her best to hide her smirk.

"You absolute asshole."

"Oh c'mon, you love it."

Both her eyes opened and she looked over at him for a moment. They lingered in silence for a moment - somehow it always seemed to happen. One of them saying something that sent them both, separately reeling in a sense neither could quite compound in their minds. Especially when it was supposed to be something casual, something that rolled off the tongue and was in fact normal to say to friends.

But whatever was going on in this war and between them, it wasn't normal.

And something like that made them go silent.

Carrie watched him for a moment, as he seemed to smile, more to himself than her, and then looked at her.

"Get some rest, Bergie." he said softly, before leaning forward and patting the edge of the blanket where her you could see her legs outlined by the fabric, and then stood, "Need anything?"

Carrie looked at him rather quietly, suddenly feeling like a child again, watching him stand and ready to leave, except in a much more pleasant manner than anyone at home had ever been like. Because at home, it had been people leaving without explanation or well-wishes.

"Just some crackers maybe? Please?" she asked him quietly, her voice sounding more youthful than anything else in the past few days. Dougie smiled at her, that gentle grin rising on his face and he nodded.

"I'll be back, alright?" And she watched him give her a smile, before wandering away, finding a nurse and engaging in conversation.

And after that. He came back. With crackers.

[alienoresimagines]

Honestly, Crank is such a mood and might just be my MOTA spirit animal

Exhibit A : He is just so done, all of the time it's so funny

1) "What I get a passenger?" Sassy Crank who then decided to sleep through the rest of the briefing because if he has Bucky the Yapper on his plane, he will need the extra sleep if they both want to make it alive to Algeria

2) Any sequence where he is flying and Bucky's behind him and/or asking for updates on Buck. The way he just... closes his eyes like he's praying a higher deity to take the Yapper of his plane before answering is so funny. I don't know if it's because of Bucky's poorly hidden attempt at making it look like he's not asking after Buck specifically by saying "the stagglers" and Crank realising exactly why Bucky "couldn't skip this one" or simply because he's just been through hell and the war wife that yapped his way on his plane won't stop asking is he's a war widow yet but it's funny. Reminds me of a parent who just wants some sleep but their kid keeps asking questions.

3) His "Oh that makes me feel better" when the mechanic tells him of the plane's condition ("won't go very far but you won't need it" because Münster isn't far and not because Crank gets shot down not 20 minutes later mind you). I know he was probably still angry and bitter after his altercation with Bucky and the fact that Crank does Not agree with the mission's order but I just love him. He reminds me of a cranky, wet kitten

Exhibit B : He is hella competent

Every pilot is good, that's a fact. There hasn't been much focus on the pilots except for the Buckies (even though we've never seen Bucky in the left seat except that one time he was smoking in it during his war widow era), Rosie and Curt (a bit of Brady and Blakely too) so there isn't much to say about Crank specifically. BUT when Bucky, lead pilot, goes down, Crank immediately takes the lead to avoid formation going into chaos like was the case during the Bremen mission ("There was a lot of confusion when lead (Buck and DeMarco) went down, it was chaos"). And don't forget that he flew through the Regensburg mission, which was absolute hell!

Exhibit C : He is Not Afraid to speak his mind or call people on their bs

1) Him being the one to ask Bucky how he managed to be put on the Regensburg mission while very clearly already having an idea, only confirmed by Bucky's vague answer

2) Famous moment but his confrontation with Bucky (and Brady) about the Münster mission. Nobody mentioned Buck to Bucky, except Ken, but no one really mentioned the fact that the Münster mission was a revenge mission. Everybody knew it but there was that fear that mentioning Buck would set Bucky off so nobody did. But Crank does, because Buck was also his friend and so is Bucky and neither of them would have approved or encouraged the mission if they'd been here/in their right mind.

Look at the devastation on his face when Bucky tells him that "it's a war and it won't end until they hit them where it hurts". That's the face of someone seeing a friend absolutely drowning in grief turning to revenge to cope.

So Crank says "None of the people we're going to bomb today shot down Buck" and he sees the look in Bucky's eyes and knows that he may have hit the bull's eye, but it was the wrong move. Only accentuated by the fact that Bucky then makes Crank call him "sir" something that he has never done before, clearly separating himself from his friends and Crank understands that this isn't really Bucky, at least not the one he knows. Buck may have been the only one to go down but the truth is, the 100th had already lost the two Buckies

Exhibit D : He loves his people soooo much

1) The hug he gives Dougie when the goblin fort crew comes back from the dead??? Just looking at that hug I could feel how warm and comforting it was. Crank is one of the best huggers of the 100th I bet. Also Dougie being taken aback at the force of the hug that he has to take a few steps back?? Can you imagine how good and relieved Crank must have felt after losing so many friends but, just this time, one crew came back and intel was wrong, they weren't dead!! They came back!!

See Gif below :

Look at his face when he goes to hug Dougie, he can't believe he gets to see them again 🥺

2) The grief on his face when he comes back from Bremen? Not having the words to say Buck went down because they all thought that no one bailed out and the entire crew was dead? He just shakes his head in defeat. All he can think about is that they lost Buck but someone will have to tell Bucky that he lost Buck. Look at his face and tell me he didn't know it'd destroy Bucky.

3) Him calling for Bucky at the fence when the latter arrived at the Stalag. The pure joy and relief on his face ("You made it!!!"), so overwhelming that he has to take his beanie off because he arrived at the Stalag and Bucky wasn't there and he didn't arrive even days after Crank. And if Crank arrived before Brady did, then he must have thought that the entire crew was dead because he saw them go down, even took the lead afterwards. But then Brady arrived, and Bucky wasn't there and that couldn't be because if Bucky's dead then the last time Crank had ever seen him it'd been in anger and for all Crank disagreed with the mission, Bucky's his friend. But then Bucky comes and Crank is so relieved because Bucky's alive and the Buckies are back together so everything will be fine and Crank's with his friends again.

In conclusion, I love my cranky but affectionate Crank from New England, he deserves more appreciation, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

P.s.: I haven't seen MOTA post ep 6 so this post might be edited if the last 3 episodes give me Crank content :)

[teosartcorner]

I have a small batch of sketches for you today, and a half-introduction of a new fella from the D&B-verse! 👀

This is Doug "Dougie" Graham (born Doug Anderson, but he decided that Graham—his mum's maiden name—would be a far better fit; his dad can rot in hell, in his very humble opinion). Or, to be more specific, this was him back in the ‘80s. Don’t worry, he’s still around today, he’s just older (65, to be precise)!

A kind soul with a bit of a troubled upbringing, someone whose life started off by giving him a tiny bit more than he could take, but who managed to find his way through it all, step by step—that’s Dougie for you. A smart lad with a big heart and an even bigger sense of sass, always longing for meaningful connections with people (but somewhat afraid to pursue them to their full potential, at least in his younger years). A good person, but prone to getting into occasional questionable stuff (he used to dabble in drug dealing on the side of his more… adequate activities, and was a user himself; he even used to be Malcolm’s occasional weed dealer, back in the days, which is actually how the two met 😂).

Speaking of which, Dougie is a close friend of the Macaulays. He befriended both Malcolm and Brandy back in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s (not at the same time, though), and has been a friend of the family to this day (the twins love him!). Dougie actually kinda is the reason why Brandy and Malcolm even met, if one thinks about it. It all happened during his birthday party from May, 1985, after all! A very fun and memorable night, for… various different reasons. 🌝🤣

So yeah, say “Hi!” to Dougie! I plan to make a proper introductory post for him, too, but this man has been on my mind ever since he showed up in my brain for the first time. If I hadn’t posted him anytime soon, I would have simply withered and died. So yeah, I will be back at some point with more info and whatnot, but for now I’ll leave you with this rambly-ish blurb. 😂

[some-loser-called-jab]

New D&D Spells

Summon Catgirls

Firecube

Firepyramid

FireExactShapeToHitTheEnemiesButNotMyParty

Melf's Shelf Elf

Recall NPC Name

Tummy Slap

Zone of Funk

Tasha's Monstrous Strap

Summon Guy From Our Last Campaign

Power Word: Dougie

Mordenkainen's Fucking Gun

Find Cooler Familiar

Blizzaga

Change Systems (Again)

Mass Tummy Slap

Speak With Frogs And Only Frogs

[hellogoodbyegirl]

Supertramp Promo photo from 1979 for their album 'Breakfast In America'

[bananaactivity]

More Edgy with the three Edge Lords

Edge, Edger, and Edgiest

Stupid Virus makes them basically feral so they get lil fangs and scruffy hair ( They're also paler then my usual pallet for them lmao)

Lowkey Adam needa stick that tounge back in bruh. I also think this is the first time I've avoided finishing a hand. Very unlike me, I love hands

Also for those with a minute are two to burn here is the draft for that fic I was working on :

“ Douglas come on, we’re gonna be late for the car show!” Leo fussed, tussling with his jacket as he inched toward the door. Next to him, Adam was shining his tennis shoes and nodding enthusiastically. “ Yeah Dougy we gotta get going or all the dopeass parking spots will be gone.”

Douglas had spent most of the day moving his old boxes from the Academy to the Davenport Penthouse and was frankly tired at this point. He’d made the questionable choice to promise Leo and Adam a trip to the Centuim City Car show for “good behavior” and couldn't deny that they kept up their end of the bargain. 

“ Parking? Really Adam?” he sighed, taking a moment to sift through a box marked. Evil Items to deal with/ Figure out later. Damn himself he really outta not leave things to be done at a later date…

“ Yeah! I heard they have killer hotdogs too! Get this… They have a condiment bar and the condiments come out in little gasoline pumps!” he exclaimed holding his hands out with a tilt as if he had said something groundbreaking. They looked at him for a bit. Leo opened his mouth, thought better of it, and closed it again before returning to Douglas.

“ Come on Lil D… You can deal with those boxes later. We gotta get outta here before Chase and Big D come back and beg to go too. You know those two are real party poopers.” Douglas grimaced a bit as he dug deeper in the box. “ Geez Leo I get it. I just really wanna get all these boxes to my room before tomorrow!” 

“ Whats happening down here?”

Kaz chuckled, dragging his way down the steps. “ Actually, save your breath. I was eavesdropping. Heh. Classic Kaz move.” He flew the last two steps, to lazy to even walk the rest of the way down, and stopped with a hover over the boxes. Oliver came down right after him his nose buried in a comic.

“ Oh, this is perfect!” Leo gasped. “ Pepper spray and Frosty the Nerd here can use their freaky deeky powers to put these boxes away for you Dougy!” Adam nodded along enthusiastically.

“ Yes! Wait, I thought their super names were Wild-Spark and Frost-Flare? I already had them sign my limited edition Frost-Spark branded thermoses with those names… How can I resell them on Eway for triple the auction price now!” Adam questioned with a whine.

“Doesn't matter because I don't trust these super-powered geeks with a fresh chicken egg let alone my personal belongings.” Douglas griped; continuing to dig in the box. “ And I think some collectors would actually pay top dollar for items with the original names…” he added with a nod to Adam. Just as his hand came into contact with a suspiciously familiar bag, Oliver used his super strength to lift the whole box away. 

“ Who says you can't trust us? We’re very trustworthy!” he bargained while flinging the box like it was weightless. 

“ Us. Yeah, we don't trust you guys, You are very inexperienced. Super. Yeah. Yea..” the Davenports and Dooley mildly commented their opinions overlapping each other but all agreeing to the same conclusion. “Yeah, I would NOT trust the supes personally…” Kaz added flipping through the comic Oliver had left discarded.  

Oliver swatted at his arm. “ OW. Super strength Oli!”

“ Well, I want you guys to trust us. We’re on the same team and if gaining your trust involves putting up a few boxes… well I think we can handle that.” He said with a sure nod. Kaz was quiet. Oliver swatted at him again.“ DUDE. SUPER. STRENGTH.” 

“ Kaz. Don't leave me hanging here!” Oliver hissed as he set the box down. With a groan, Kaz began his reprisal:

“ Do I have to?” 

“ No. KAZ. I’ll do all the work while you sit there and look pretty.” 

“Pretty sure that’s what I’m best at. But alright, fine. I’ll move the box.”

Using as little strength as possible Kaz used his foot to shift a small box a few inches before settling back down to read the comic.  “ Done.”

“ Kaz!” Oliver began. “ Chill Oli, I'm a professional.” 

The Davenports and Dooley stood there for a second before Leo clasped his hands again. “ Good enough for us! Come on. Dougy. Adam. Let's go.” He grabbed his uncle and brother with his bionic limb and drug them out.

“ Alright! Alright!” Douglas fussed. “ You two just put those boxes in my room, I'll deal with them later. Do NOT look in them, especially the ones that say Evil on ‘em.”

“He's not talking to me,” Kaz assured his buddy

“I'm only talking to you, Kaz.” Douglas reaffirmed from the hall outside the apartment.

As soon as Douglas, Adam, and Leo had rushed out, leaving the penthouse in a flurry of excitement for the car show, Kaz took a moment to sit back, stretch, and lazily inspect the room. His eyes landed back on the box that Douglas had left behind, and the familiar mischievous grin tugged at his lips.

He zipped over to the box as fast as he could. The label Evil Items to deal with/ Figure out later practically screamed "Look in me!" in Kaz’s mind.

Oliver, still awkwardly hovering near the box, raised an eyebrow and shot a wary glance at Kaz. “Kaz, do you ever listen to anyone?”

Kaz’s face brightened, as he peered at Oliver. “ Come on Oli-pop, Dougie told me not to look. Nothing about riffling through them. So you know what that means.”

“Uh…” Oliver hesitated. “It means you’re gonna “riffle” through it anyway and probably make a mess?”

“Bingo!” Kaz grinned wide and started sifting through the box.

Oliver sighed. “Kaz, you're like a walking disaster, man. I swear.” He watched, making no real effort to stop his friend with his arms crossed, as Kaz dug deeper into the box, tossing aside old, dusty items like he was shopping for treasure.

To be frank he was curious too. The Davenports had told little about Douglas’ past before rejoining his family. And maybe this box would hold some juicy secrets.

Kaz dug in deep pushing past through innators and doomsday devices before pulling out a black bag marked with a large, red "DESTROY AS SOON AS POSSIBLE" tag. His eyes sparkled. “Oooh, what’s this? If it says ‘destroy,’ it’s gotta be good!”

Oliver immediately raised his voice. “Kaz, don’t—”

Just as he spoke, the door to the penthouse swung open, and in strode Chase and Donald. Donald was talking to his wife Tasha, assuring her that Leo was with Douglas and that he and Chase had safely arrived.

Chase’s eyes immediately landed on Kaz, and his face scrunched in typical exasperation as he fumbled with his satchel.  

“Kaz!” he shouted, beeling toward him. “ I know that look on your face! Whatever that is you shouldn't be touching it!”

Kaz grinned and shrugged. “Yeah, but like, if it says destroy on it and I find that interesting, that’s like… an invitation, right? Like, maybe I’m doing the owner a favor!”

Chase’s expression darkened and he lunged for the bag. “No, Kaz! That’s literally the opposite of a favor!”

Kaz, now holding the black bag aloft like a prized find, gave it a little shake. “C’mon, Chaser, what’s the worst that could happen~”

“A lot, if you're involved, Super klutz!” Chase fussed.

“Puulease~” Kaz gaufed. “ I can be-”

As if on cue, the bag slipped from Kaz’s hands as they tussled over it, hitting the ground with a muffled thud. Both boys froze for a moment, looking down at the bag.

Then, with a horrifying crack, the object inside shattered into a million glass-like pieces. Which then slid out of the shredded bag.

“Great Job Kazemerias!” Chase proclaimed sarcasm oozing from his voice as he lunged down to pick them up, but the jagged shards glinted dangerously.

“Chase, careful!” Oliver yelled, taking a step forward, but Chase ignored him.

“Get back!” he barked, swatting at Kaz and Oliver who were trying to help, but clearly making things worse in Chase’s mind. 

Donald, who had finished his call with Tasha from the doorway, now stepped forward. His face twisted in mild frustration, but the calm, authoritative edge to his voice cut through the tension. “ That looks like one of Doug's boxes. He's got some really dangerous stuff in storage... I can't imagine he’d let you look-” he stopped himself before continuing. “ No wait he would do that. Well- Oliver I wouldn't expect you to go through someone's private belongings like that. ” 

Oliver muttered a nervous, “Sorry, Mr. Davenport.” and Kaz gasped in annoyance. 

“ The emphasis on the you is really telling Mr. Davenport.”

Chase let out his own indignant huff. “ You made this mess Kaz so I think it’s a well-deserved discrepancy.” 

The glass pieces were still scattered across the floor, glimmering menacingly. Chase let out a sharp hiss of pain and clutched his palm. Blood began to seep from a slit on his hand, from where he’d cut himself while trying to handle the shards. His eyes flashed with frustration and… something else,  as he pressed the wound against his side, not looking at anyone else as he pulled out a pen-like machine from his satchel. Staring at it for a second before shaking his head as if he had escaped a trance, and began fiddling with the device.

“Chase!” Donald’s voice softened, the concern obvious. He quickly strode over, knelt beside him, and examined the cut. “Let me get you a bandage, kid. I've been working on these quick healing strips. This cut is a bit deep but it should help…” He strode off to get the bandages

Kaz scratched his head. “I didn’t mean to break it. Honest. I thought it’d be like… a million dollars or something. Ya know rich people leave stacks of those in random places…”

Oliver awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the floor. “Yeah, I—I didn’t exactly stop him. So... I’m sorry too. We should’ve just put the boxes in Doug’s room like he asked.”

Chase gave a half-hearted glare, wincing as he flexed his palm to examine the cut “ Whatever. I should've been more careful cleaning this mess. God knows you probably would've sliced your finger clean off. ”

Kaz’s face twisted in mock offense. “ Maybe, Chaser…”

“Mm-hmm,” Donald muttered, coming back up with the bandage. He leaned down, applying a glowing blue strip to Chase's palm. It shrunk to the exact parameters of the cut and faded to match his son's skin tone.

“How many trail runs did you test this thing with, Mr. Davenport?” Chase asked, running a finger over it. “ Loads, I've been toying with these for decades and they've been doing amazing in practice these past two years. What I can’t figure out is how to manufacture them at a less expensive cost so they can be sold to distributors and consumers for less” Donald stood up and dusted his hands off. “ These strips can help a lot of people… they’ll pull out bacteria and all kinds of icky stuff out of wounds.”

“And ,Next time Kaz, leave the dangerous stuff alone. That includes whatever that was.” He gestured at the broken pieces, which were nowhere to be seen anymore.

“I, uh... got rid of the pieces with my mini-atomizer,” Chase added sheepishly holding up the pen-like contraption, finally glancing up. “It’s... gone now. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

Kaz eyed the pen, already planning things. “Well, that’s one way to make it disappear, I guess.”

“I swear, you two...” Donald sighed, rubbing his temples. “Just... just go sit down, okay? All three of you and Chase don't mess around too much with the healing strip. Whatever you do, don't get it wet. I haven't figured out water resistance for this particular model yet.” He cast a pointed glance at Kaz and Oliver before leaving them all to sulk quietly.

Kaz and Oliver, both apologized again to Chase, sat down, the atmosphere hanging with a mixture of guilt and awkwardness. Chase went to the Kitchen planning to cook up a five-star meal probably.

Kaz stretched out on the couch, looking unbothered again despite everything. “That was kind of fun, though.”

Oliver shot him a warning look but didn’t respond. Instead, he turned his attention back to the spot where the mysterious black glass had vanished and thought about the mini-atomizer and how he could get his hands on it.

It's def not finished I didn't even write the super slasher-y parts yet. (No ones gonna die) Feel free to critique lowkey