#even better when you just cut it in half and put it on the grill with olive oil and salt and then serve it with the balsamic glaze

[girlitfeelsgood]

I fucking love cabbage so much

[cevansbrat0007]

Regrets Only.

Summary: Ari reaches his limit with your latest TikTok prank...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Smut, Ari Being A Menace, TikTok Pranks, Shenanigans, Angry!Ari, Brat!Reade, Small Chase Kink, Light Manhandling. Biting, Spanking, Bondage, Handcuffs, Overstimulation, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt courtesy of @jamneuromain. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

In all the times you’ve tried, you’ve never once regretted pranking your man with something you’d seen on TikTok – until today. Yes. Believe it or not, this time you might’ve gone a bit too far. 

Which is why you’re currently holed up in Ari’s fairly spacious closet, sipping on a bottle of water and munching on a granola bar while you wait for the bounty hunter to calm down. You lean back with a sigh, only to wince when you feel a shoe digging into your side. 

You make quick work of tossing it to the other side of the room before returning to the treat in your hand. But just as you go to take another bite, you hear something that makes your stomach sink - even as your pulse spikes. 

And it lets you know that you are well and truly fucked.

Earlier That Day (Roughly Twenty-Seven Minutes Ago)

After a solid ten minutes of vigorous stretching, you bend down to check the laces on your tennis shoes. Once they’re secure, you quietly make your way to the kitchen to retrieve the items you needed for your latest prank. The one you planned to play on your favorite unsuspecting bounty hunter, who was blissfully snoring away on a couch in the living room. 

Now, this particular one just so happened to be a little…bolder than either of your previous stunts. It required more courage, coupled with a dash of bravery, and a well thought out Plan B in the event things went south. 

You open the refrigerator and pull out the pack of hot dogs you’d bought during your last trip from the grocery store. While you’d originally told Ari that you wanted him to put them on the grill, he had no way of knowing that they would also be used to torture him. Common sense told you that you’d be better off keeping that tiny piece of information to yourself. 

Stifling a mischievous giggle, you extract one singular frankfurter from the package before resealing it and putting it away. Next, you move to your utility drawer to gleefully swipe a pair of scissors. 

This was the entire plan. You were going to quietly tuck a hot dog in your man’s zipper, and then wake him up so he could watch you snip it in half with a pair of scissors. In all the videos you watched – and you’d watched a number of them – every bleary eyed victim panicked as if you’d just cut off their actual dick. 

And therein lay the prank. 

The clips had left you in stitches for hours. So much so that Ari had noticed how much fun you were having, only to roll his eyes when you revealed that you were scrolling through his least favorite app on your phone.

Fucking TikTok.

He hated it. You loved it. Frankly, the only reason he even tolerated you telling him about the things you’d seen is because he could tell it brought you joy. 

Excitement buzzes through you as you tiptoe into the living room. You’re grateful to see that Ari is still sleeping, snoring soundly with one impressively muscled arm tucked behind his head. 

With gentle hands, you dutifully undo the zipper of his Levi’s before carefully inserting the hot dog. Since you don’t want to mess this up, you make sure to go slow, taking your time. You just knew this prank was going to be epic. 

Once that’s done, you briefly take a second to wipe your hands on your leggings before taking a deep breath. Well, it was now or never. Go big or go home, as they say. 

Leaning down, you grab Ari by the shoulder, attempting to jostle him awake. It takes a couple tries, but he does eventually open his eyes.

“Whaa–?” A grin breaks out across his handsome features as he emerges from his sleepy haze. “Hey, baby.”

“Hiya, Beast.” You offer him what you hope looks like your most unhinged smile and the reveal the pair of scissors that, up until now, you’d kept hidden behind your back. “How’s about I take a little off the top?” You sing, brandishing the shears. 

“The hell?” His confused blue eyes go wide as they follow the path of the scissors. Shock overcomes him as he watches, in what feels like slow motion, as you cut off a sizable portion of the frank. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” He roars, grabbing himself as he scrambles off the couch and onto the floor before proceeding to do the funniest, most awkward backwards crab walk you’ve ever seen in your life. 

You double over with laughter as Ari struggles to come to grips with the fact that you definitely did not just make him the next John Bobbitt your Lorena. He’s breathing hard as he rips the hot dog out of his zipper, holding it up to the light. 

“Oh my God, that was amazing!” You wheeze.

“The hell is wrong with you?!” He tosses the damned thing across the room before covering his face with his hands as he wills himself to calm down. “Have you lost your fuckin’ mind?”

Wiping tears from your eyes, you decide to put the bounty hunter out of his misery by whispering his least favorite phrase: “It was a prank!” A renewed wave of laughter hits you when you recall just how gobsmacked he’d been by the whole ordeal. God, your sides hurt something fierce. 

“Just what in the ever loving fuck would make you think that was funny?” Ari growls low in his throat as he finally sits up. And the look he’s giving you now…

It’s hot enough to burn right through you. And not in a sexy way.

“That’s just the magic of TikTok, I guess.” Your smile wanes as you watch your severely irritated boyfriend slowly climb to his feet. “I mean, you should’ve seen your face when–”

“When what?” Comes his quiet rumble, the sound reverberating deep in his chest. “When I thought you cut my dick off just now? Is that–is that what you’re laughing about?” The smile he offers you looks a little less than friendly.

“Um yeah. I’d say so.”

Instinct, as well as the need for self-preservation, has you taking a cautious step backwards. You were prepared to run if you had to. It was the whole reason why you’d stretched in the first place.

“Oh yeah?” Ari scrubs a palm over his ticking jaw. “Is that so?”

Instead of responding you decide to simply nod. Oh, and take another step backwards, of course.

“I’m sure that if you’d maybe stop and think about it –”

“Why don’t you c’mere so I can show you just how much I appreciate your so-called sense of humor?” He motions you forward, opening up his waiting arms. 

But you know better. 

“I, uh…” You hedge, bracing your hands in front of you. “Can see you might need some more time to appreciate the joke. So I’m just gonna…um…” You blow out a breath. “Give you some space so you can – eeeep!”

An incensed Ari picks that moment to strike - lunging at you with a speed that belies his size. Thank goodness you’re prepared. Ducking under his arms, you spin around and make a mad dash for the stairs. Squealing, you take them two at a time, hoping to make it to your sanctuary before he can get his hands on you. 

“Get your ass back here, Bird!” 

No way, pal!

Heart pumping, you grab the doorframe and all but slingshot yourself into Ari’s bedroom, slamming the door behind you. While it would only buy you a couple of seconds, that was really all you needed. 

You dive headlong into a nearby closet before swiftly closing the door and hitting the lock. As your chest heaves, you decide to take a seat on the floor before reaching for the bottle of water you’d previously planted in your hiding spot.

After guzzling almost half, you replace the cap. You knew you ought to conserve your rations. Just in case you were stuck here for a while. 

“I’m not on your shit today, baby. Okay? Today your man’s got time!” Ari bellows seconds later. “So, if I were you, I’d come on out now!”

Shaking your head, you vow to stay silent. So you say nothing, even when he tries the knob on the door that separates him from you. 

“Open up, sweetheart!”

Again you say nothing, in favor of unwrapping one of your favorite granola bars. They were the chewy kind, the ones that tasted more like dessert than they did something healthy.  

“I’ll come out when you calm down!” You finally yell back after you chew and swallow. “Fucking Beast.” You grumble under your breath.

“Oh, I’m more than calm.” The weight of his sardonic chuckle is not lost on you. “Why don’t you come on out and see?” You can’t help but jump when one of his fists pounds on the door. “I swear…I just wanna talk.”

“I don’t believe you!” 

“You’re gonna open this door, darlin’.”

“No, I’m not!” You hiss, throwing one of his shoes at the wall for good measure.

“Yes, you are.” Ari hits back. “Now, you can either come out on your own, or…”

“Or else what?” 

“Or, I’ll come in there and get you. And trust me, little Bird…that’s the last thing you want.”

“Yeah?” You spit, meanwhile inwardly lamenting your man’s lack of a sense of humor for the umpteenth time. “Well…” You take another bite of your granola bar. “I’d like to see you try.”

Famous last words.

Ari whistles low, making you shiver. “Wait right there, baby. I’ll see you in a minute.”

You let out a sigh of relief once you get the sense that you’re finally alone. As funny as it all had seemed initially, you were quickly coming to regret this particular prank. The longer you sat in this closet, the more you began to honestly examine – and then reexamine – your life choices.

Perhaps it was time to give your newfound love of pranking your bounty hunter a break. Lips pursed in thought, you allow yourself another bite of your chewy bar. Only to frown when you hear a very familiar sound that fills you with instant regret.  

Apparently Ari had returned. And he’d brought his power drill. Fuck!

Your mouth goes dry as the sound grows louder. And then you’re forced to watch in horror as your man makes fast work of literally removing the closet door from its hinges. It was the last thing you ever expected your normally rather patient and understanding boyfriend to do. 

“There’s my girl.” Ari’s dangerous purr comes as he picks up the now useless slab or wood and sets it aside like it weighs almost nothing. “C’mon out of there so we can talk.” 

When you don’t move, your bounty hunter decides to come get you. He hauls you out by your wrist, making sure not to bruise you in the process.

“Beast, don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic? I mean – ooh!” You scoff, only to rise on your toes when his free hand comes down on your vulnerable ass. Hard.

“Ow!”

“Let me make something very clear here, darlin’.” He leads you over to the bed before sitting down and then pulling you over his knee. “You want to waste time messin’ around on that stupid app you love so much? Fine.” Ari slaps your rump again, forcing you to bury your face in the covers to keep from crying out. 

“But where I’m gonna draw the line right now is you testin’ ‘em out on me. Unless you’re in that kitchen whipping up a new recipe I am not to be your guinea pig. You get me?”

His heavy palm comes down hard again when you don’t respond. This time he takes a moment to massage your cotton covered backside. “Do. You. Get. Me.” Each word is peppered by a solid smack.

“Yes!” You wail, although it comes out slightly muffled. 

Still not satisfied, Ari goes to grip the waistband of your leggings, dragging them down to your ankles, complete with your simple, white cotton panties. “This could’ve been a relaxing Sunday for us, little Bird. Just mindin’ our own business.” You can’t help but shiver when you feel him fondle your upturned ass, molding and massaging your burning cheeks. “But you just had to go and be a brat, didn’t you?”

“I–I’m sorry!”

It was too little, too late. And you both knew it.

“Oh now, you’re sorry.” He mocks before raining down a fury of perfectly-timed smacks. “I love you, baby. I do. But I also know you. You’re not really sorry – at least not yet.” 

Ari eases out from beneath you, all the while demanding that you remain face down with your reddened ass pushed up in the air so that he can enjoy the view while he prepares the next part of your punishment. And you had best believe you feel his sharp teeth sink into the left globe of your ass before he goes.

Consider it a parting gift.

One Hour Later…

And that’s how you found yourself handcuffed to the bed, courtesy of the signature purple, butter leather cuffs he’d had made for you. Unfortunately for you, you’d learned that he’d recently purchased another set…

For your ankles.

Your bounty hunter smiles as he picks up one of your vibrators – the one you’d purchased together – before applying it to your already oversensitive clit. Bucking your hips, you try to escape the torture.

With no such luck.

You desperately tug at your restraints, even as your cries fall on deaf ears. No matter how many times you promised to never play another prank on him ever again, it still wasn’t enough. Instead he’d continued to keep you bound while he worked out his anger…

By ruthlessly overstimulating your poor, sweat slicked body. No matter how many times you came, no matter how many times you threatened to scream yourself hoarse, he kept demanding more.

Because, according to Ari, since you’d taken a few years off his life, you apparently owed him as many orgasms by way of apology as you were able to give. Which meant you were going to be sore as hell tomorrow. 

Which was why, in this moment, although you could feel another orgasm threatening to overtake you, you were filled with nothing but…

Regrets only.

END  

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[planete777]

FREAK・⁠｡♪ LN4

( lando norris x fem!reader )

IN WHICH. y/n is full of surprises and shows lando just how dirty she can be. (based on this ask)

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI, reader x brother'sbsf!lando, riding, mentions of sex toys, high hotness part 3464476, lando is lowkey in love with the reader, getting caught... but not really getting caught.

NOTE. my dearest anon requested and i HAD to write this. my last high!lando installment probably for a while because the summer is coming to an end 😭 i do have one more other fic coming tho, so stay tuned. anyways enjoy luvss <3 also credit to @lesbiacebian for the dividers.

"are you really slagging me off for your girlfriend?"

lando's voice is incredulous, syllables barely pristine as the weed in his head breaks down any cohesion left. the hand pinching the spliff falls to the bed as he sits up, staring at his unmoving best friend.

"she just texted me, i'm not gonna ditch her for you, lando, no offence."

"all taken," he grumbles, then moves to take a harsh inhale of his joint. he may be completely high out of his fucking wits, but he's certainly not pliable like that. he came to get so faded with his friend (and, second to name, supplier) that his brain would feel like it's being suspended over a grill and burned with smoke.

"well," lando sees him shrug half heartedly, "she's putting something on the line for her late night endeavours."

lando scoffs, taking another godforsaken drag. pussy, he thinks, he's getting fucking pussy.

"you're a nasty piece of shit, you know that?"

the boy ahead of him waves him off, "better start going mate, she'll be here any minute."

lando stares blankly at him for so long his eyes begin to unfocus, before he's shaking his head, sliding off the sheets. what a dickhead.

"fine whatever." he opens the door, taking an inhale and exhale of the joint wedged in his lips, and he descends the carpeted stairs with little sentience. his limbs feel dismembered and he can barely perceive the distance from on step to another, but he reaches the ground floor anyways, making his way to the living room.

he guessed he'd find her here, practically one with the couch and eyes welded to the tv screen glimmering with another uninteresting reality show.

the light's off, and considering he could barely walk in a straight line due to the blunt puffing out smoke from his mouth, he doesn't notice y/n turning towards him, pressing pause on the tv.

"lando, hey."

her voice is light, as if she's afraid of disturbing the night, and she swings her legs off the couch. lando subtly scrutinizes what she wears, a tight tank top, and equally as tight shorts, and he begins to feel blood rush to his dick.

"hey," he smirks with the blunt still in his mouth, and shuffles towards the now empty space beside the girl who had him thinking with his dick. he forces the thoughts away, he's not acquainted with the whole corruption kink thing, and y/n screams bloody virgin.

"what brings you here, high out of your mind?" she's staring intensely, as if a blink would make him vanish, grinning light-heartedly.

lando chuckles, taking a long drag, "your brother wanted to get laid, and i'm sure not a voyeurist."

even the thought of it makes y/n grimace, "point made," she curls her legs back unto the couch as lando's eyes follow her.

it's not long before the sound of the doorbell ringing shrills once, dragged until the duration of it could barely hit it being a nuisance. y/n's brother tumbles down the stairs, opening the door with much vigour before dragging her up the stairs with hurrief footsteps. the whole ordeal plays out with silence between y/n and lando, hearing the ruckus with barely concealed amusement, and is cut dead once the bedroom door slams.

"i do not want to hear all that," y/n groans, "his room is right above this one."

"happens when you're pussy whipped like him," lando huffs out a cloud of smoke, "forget who the fuck is around."

"you know you can... go back home," y/n's sceptical, and rightfully so because lando has no idea why he's staying. nevertheless, he makes up an incomplete incentive that sounded valid only in his head.

"i know, but i'm high as fuck and walking in this heat home... yeah no."

his neck flexes as he sucks in as much weed as he can, and y/n watched avidly. something about seeing lando at the mercy of his inhibitions, eyes so red that wherever he looks, he paints it crimson, and lips selling his soul away to the strings of smoke. he's too out if it to notice y/n's assessment, with his head sunken into the couch behind him, and it makes the girl laugh.

"you're gone, aren't you?"

lando does nothing but smirk affirmatively, before limply taking another drag.

"and i could definitely do with a bed to sleep on," he pushes a sound out of his throat, "your brother... fucker, he is."

"for sure," y/n agrees then shuffles to get up, patting lando's thigh. he flitters his eyes open in surprise, diluted, however, because of his lack of level headedness, "what?"

"just this once, i'll give you my bed."

"really?" the word is chipped between his teeth from the burn scarred into the back of his throat.

"yeah," she smiles. lando pretends he doesn't feel his heart grin with her.

"i'm feeling nice today."

he stands up, stretches and feels his joints scream out inexplicable noises. the bed seems like paradise now.

"oh mint, thank you."

receiving a hum in return, he follows the girl up the stairs, praying that his legs don't give way. his mind dozes off as they get to the landing, and it's only when he trails behind her inside, on autopilot, and she shuts the door, does his conscience focus like accomodating vision.

"i need to go the bathroom, one sec."

his mind has one whiplash after another as he process her rapid disappearance, before tuning back into the room. it's tame, like any young adult room would be, with half-wave plant bunting snaking around her room. her headboard, however, glows white, abd he figures it's from the leds stuck under the rim.

he walks up to the bedside tableand picks up a small framed picture of her and her brother. young, they were, standing side by side with identical sunglasses on. he smiles, then situates it back.

the drawer beneath is open, just enough for him to slip his hand through and open it, but of everything he could presume to find, he does not expect to meet a clear purple dildo, thicker and longer than biologically possible. he feels like there's a broken wire in his brain, hanging and tickling just where it triggers his dick to harden.

he doesn't know why he's enthralled by it, staring at the phallic toy as if it would magically display the images of it being pushed and pressed into y/n, but then he finds himself wishing so. corruption was never his thing, but now it doesn't have to be. because y/n is already debauched from the hot inside, to the deceiving out.

he stands there, idle, and it pushes a huff of laughter from behind him.

"you can get in the bed, lando," she pronounces like he's a formative infant. but he's not moving.

"what is this, y/n?"

he can't see her face fall, confused, but he hears it in the way she speaks, "what?"

then he's storming to her, standing just before her with a burning look. y/n's not stupid, can tell the way he's turned on but whatever he's seen, if not by the way his eyes flick down to her lips, then by the bulge that pokes her peripheral vision, and it's that her eyes widen in shock.

"oh fuck."

"oh fuck indeed," he takes a final drag before quelling it on the desk behind her, "who knew you were shoving 8 inch dildos up your pussy?"

y/n knows where to push his buttons, get the heat rising like a flood of lava just before it turns into a battle of who will give in first?

her arms are wrapping themselves around his shoulders, pulling him in, "and who knew," a hand, calculative and slow, slides down to press the hard on in his jeans, "you would get turned on by it?"

then he's kissing her, hard, wet, messy, with tongues and soft lips eager for each other like they were quenching years of thirst. lando takes everything that y/n gives him, lapping at her tongue and biting at her lips with unrestricted composure.

she's pushing him back, hands scrambling on his top to get it off, and when she does, gives him a final nudge to the chest that has him flying to the bed.

he smirks up at her, watching as she dwindles to nakedness and lando thinks that he can't be seeing this. y/n, in front of him, stripping as if it's a private show, with her brother just a few doors down. it's fucking filthy, and makes him hot all over.

"you gonna suck me off?"

he'd found a way, though he feels semi paralyzed, to rid himself of his jeans, slowly jerking his dick as precum begins to trickle down his skin.

"want to, but i need your dick inside me," y/n says, all breathy and pent up, causing lando to groan as she crawls her way up his thighs.

"fuck, you're gonna kill me." his heart is accelerating in his chest, the libido in him heightens as y/n chuckles at him and takes his dick out of his own hand and he feels completely brainless.

"you ready?"

all he can muster is a nod, and then hot fucking tightness. their moans are akin in volume, elastic and lewd, and as y/n slips further down, lando's dick feels completely rock hard and throbs as he swears every gallon of his blood pools at his cock.

"fucking hell, you're tight, y/n," his mouth feels wet and dry simultaneously and he squeezes his eyes shut as she begins to roll her hips and press down hard.

she bounces and grinds like she's meant for it, and lando can't process that sweet, innocent y/n is bouncing on his dick, squeezing him like she wants to keep him there.

his hands grip her ass, thrusting upwards to meet her hips and the cacophony of slapping skin snaps any vocal composure in him. lando moans like he's being eaten by pleasure itself and y/n grinds and grinds and grinds.

"fuck, lando," her head is thrown back like it's completely broken, and lando preens.

"you're so fucking good for me, y/n, keep going," he can't hold back, feels his hands grip her hips and her ass careening into his thighs with every bounce and, fuck, it's so dirty and so good.

y/n looks slutted out, debauched as she splits herself on his cock. it sends lando tipping over the edge, about to cum fast and deep, when a harsh knocking pounds into the door.

they both freeze, panting as sweat licks heat into their flesh.

"for fuck's sake, keep it down! some people are trying to sleep!"

it's shortly followed by angry footsteps and a slam of a door.

lando, still hard and pulsating in y/n's cunt, has a face of bewilderment, "shit— i forgot he was there."

y/n turns back, smirking, and slowly rolling her hips again, "and continue to do so. now fuck me, lando."

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Pride! Authors choice! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

a continuation of 1

Gus is going exactly eight miles over the speed limit when the sirens start.

This is Shawn’s fault, since he’s the one that had agreed to meet Gavin right before they were supposed to be at Henry’s. When he glances up to see the large, white cop heading towards him, he decides that if Shawn’s gotten him into this mess, he can get him out.

Shawn is very, very serious about keeping his work and personal life separate, but this is the one instance that he encourages Gus to break that barrier. If more major cities had a diverse police force, he wouldn’t feel like it was necessary quite so often. 

Unfortunately, since Shawn has yet to get the appropriate stationary, he’ll have to go back a generation with this trick.

“What’s this?” the officer says, staring at the back of his license.

“Oh, that’s my father in law’s old police business card,” he says. Shawn reaches out for it back when he does this, but Gus keeps his hands on ten and two. “Apologies, sir, I’ve been carrying that thing around for years. Can never be too careful, as I’m sure you know.”

His eyes flick to Gus’s hand and the gold band on his ring finger. “You’re Henry Spencer’s son-in-law?”

“Yes, sir,” he answers evenly. “I’m actually headed to his place now. You know how he is about punctuality.”

That gets him half a chuckle and the tension in his shoulders starts to ease, up until the officer asks, “I thought Henry had a son?”

It can be a delicate balance, weighing the potential racism against the potential homophobia, but this isn’t Gus’s first time doing this either. “Lots of people think that. It’s the unfortunate name choice.”

That gets him some more sounds of amusements, then his license is being handed back to him. “Tell Henry and the missus that old Kingfisher says hello.”

“Of course, thank you, sir,” Gus says, pleasant smile firmly in place until old Kingfisher is back in his car.

He carefully pulls back onto the road and stays five below the speed limit the rest of the way.

There’s a lack of rusted piece of junk motorcycle out front – Gus would prefer it if Shawn would just buy a decent bike, but he likes tinkering too much for that – and he wishes he was surprised. Henry’s grilling in the yard and he waves a hand in greeting as soon as he steps out. “Gus! What the hell are you driving?”

If only Shawn was here right now, because he’d said the exact same thing when he’d pulled up in the blue Echo and he was still valiantly fighting against the very real truth that he and his father can be uncannily alike. “It’s a rental.”

Henry wrinkles his nose, but any further commentary is cut off by an obnoxiously loud engine as Shawn turns the corner and parks next to him, kicking down the stand and pulling off his helmet in one motion. He clocks the look on both their faces immediately and holds up a hand. “I know, I know, don’t be the moldy grape at the bottom of the bag about it. I’ll fix it this weekend. I’ve already put in the order for some of the parts.”

That’s sort of the truth. They’re going to the junkyard on Saturday so Shawn can play Frankenstein, but there are a couple things he buys new every time because one motorcycle accident due to a worn belt was one too many for Gus.

“Can’t you two just get a couple of normal cars?” Henry sighs.

“This is a normal car!” he protests, holding the gate for Shawn to walk ahead of him. He really hopes that he didn’t meet with the mayor in jeans and a flannel, but he also knows better. Shawn slaps his ass as he walks by, and he’s tempted to yank him back into a kiss, but Henry hasn’t seen them since he picked them up at the airport and he figures they can be on somewhat good behavior for at least one dinner.

“I have dubbed it the Blueberry,” Shawn says, using the same voice he does when giving stupid names to chess pieces.

Henry rolls his eyes even as he pulls Shawn down to ruffle his hair, causing him to yelp and pull away, even though the helmet had flattened it enough that he’s probably doing Shawn a favor.

It’s all normal and familiar and they eat dinner on the porch, the weather a welcome relief after the last couple of years on the East Coast. Gus is thinking about how nice it is to be back in Santa Barbara and how much happier Henry looks than when he was in Miami, and that’s probably only partly to he and Shawn moving back too, when Henry says, “What are you boys doing for work now? Gus, Shawn said something about you working on some sort of drug trial?”

Which is when he realizes that Shawn hasn’t told Henry why they’re back like he promised he would and Gus should have known that he would chicken out, but now he’s trapped at this table. He considers simply fleeing and locking Shawn out until he talks to his father. Henry’s seen him do worse.

There’s really no such thing as impressing the in-laws for him. Well, maybe with Madeline, but Henry knows him too well and has known him too long for there to be any of that. Shawn’s mother has too, technically, but he saw her a lot less than Henry.

“Yeah, he’s an executive at Middle Earth Pharmaceuticals,” Shawn says, as if Gus hasn’t frozen with the fork halfway to his mouth. Henry is frowning. It’s too late.

“It’s Central Coast Pharmaceuticals, Shawn,” he says, lowering his fork. Henry’s steak is his favorite and now he can’t even enjoy it because it’s a steak built on lies.

He shrugs. “I’ve heard it both ways. They want him to revamp their internal systems and rearrange some routes. Plus they’re hoping they can use his contacts to make more sales.”

That last part had been more implied than listed in his job duties, but he’s not wrong. “More or less.”

“Alright,” Henry says slowly, now aware that there’s something wrong but not having yet figured it out. He still has time to run. “What about you, Shawn? Surf instructor? Ballon animal operator? Sommelier?”

“Dad, please, you know I’d never cheat on Gus,” he answers. Gus can feel his knee bouncing underneath the table against his own, the only sign of his anxiety.

Gus clears his throat. “I know you know what a sommelier is, Shawn. You’ve worked at two different wineries.”

“Well, neither of them were French,” he says, as if that doesn’t prove that he knows exactly what it is.

Henry leans back in his seat, staring them down in a way that reminds him uncomfortably of their childhood. The line between Cop Henry and Dad Henry had always been thin and retirement hadn’t really done much to change that. Gus stares at the space over his head while Shawn continues eating with faux obliviousness. Finally, Henry says, “Alright, just tell me. It has to be better than Boston. I hated you working out there with those assholes.”

Gus slinks down in his seat.

Henry frowns before straightening. “You’re not working in Los Angeles again, are you? Shawn, you made enemies there, a lot of them, you can’t just waltz back in, and Karen isn’t there anymore-”

“It’s not Los Angeles,” Shawn interrupts.

His frown deepens. He knows if it was another stupid, casual job then Shawn would have told him already. “This isn’t like Argentina, is it?”

God, Argentina. That had sucked. It was supposed to be legit, and had been, up until Shawn had gotten involved in – well, Gus does his best not to think about it, since he’s not supposed to know anything about it. Neither is Henry. As far as they’re supposed to know, Shawn worked at an Argentinian winery for a year.

And he did! At least on paper.

“Nope,” Shawn says, popping his mouth on the last syllable.

“Alright, enough,” he says, “this is ridiculous, just tell me…” As he trails off, his eyes get wider. Gus doesn’t whimper, because he’s a grown man, and because of exposure. He’s nearly immune to Henry’s temper after all this time.

Nearly.

“Shawn!” he shouts. “You are not working at the SBPD!”

Gus stands abruptly, his chair screeching against the floor. Shawn reaches out to grab onto his shirt, but Gus hops back. “I’ll just get started on the dishes, shall I?”

“Traitor,” Shawn hisses, but Gus refuses to feel bad about this.

As much as he doesn’t want to be a widower, he knows better than to get in-between Shawn and his father.

[becauseimswagman1]

Toxic Love

A/N:.... it's been forever since I've posted...I'M BACK WITH THE SMUT GUYS. Don't be afraid to comment either!!!

A/N#2: he got some pretty teeth y'all

This for you @itsbackwoodsbby 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

(She wrote something for me. Gotta get her backkkk)

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

To say that you and your man are a toxic couple is downplaying just how toxic y’all actually are. He cheats and cheats, yet you stay. “Why?” is the million-dollar question. You could say you love him, but you could also say you love the money he makes. See your man is a drug dealer, but not just any ole drug dealer, he’s feared. He’s not to be messed with in any way, so what made you finally get his lying and cheating ass back? The most recent bitch he cheated on you with.

Her name is whor- Hazel. Hazel been tryna get at your man forever. You’re surprised he even fucked that fuck-anything-that-walks, homewrecking ass girl, but niggas will be niggas you guess. You’ve come to realize that they’ll fuck anyone and anything.

Anyways, you got him back by fucking his fine ass, big dick-having-ass cousin. Guess it really does run the family, but the dick was trash and the head was bomb, but if your man asks then all of it was better than him.

You could only imagine how crazy he acted once he found out, but he was almost done with his drops for the day so you’d find out in a minute or two.

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

You hear a car door slam and shortly after the front door slam too, “Ayo what the fuck am I hearing bout you fucking my cousin Dre?!”

You almost laughed, his anger was comical to you. You admit you did act like this when you found out he cheated the first time, but as smart as he is… you figured he would’ve figured everything out by now.

You shrugged at him, “Oh they talking about that already? Damn word get around fast. And don’t be slamming the doors in this house!”

“It’s true? You sit up here living this lavish ass lifestyle and you decide to act like one of yo lil friends and fuck anybody with a pulse.”

Okay, he was doing too much now. It’s not like you slept with half the motherfuckers in his gang unlike someone (Hazel).

You stood up off the couch, “Nah, Trevante fuck you! I don’t know why you tryna make me out to be some type of hoe but that shit not gone fly. Yo black ass acting like I fucked yo brother or something. It was just your cousin so back up off me.”

He walked over to you and got in your face, “Tell me that shit not true. Tell me it’s not so I can go pop the nigga that told me.”

Damn, did he have the grill in today? Top AND bottom too? Mhmmmm.

You stared up into his eyes as innocently as you could while he looked down at you, “Sorry baby, but… it’s true. And it was sooo good, too. He fucked me way better than you.”

God, he’s wearing the cologne that makes you soak your panties in record time.

“Oooooh now he’s better than me? I’ll murk that nigga right now, blood or not. Keep on testing me, ma.”

He’s gonna fuck you up. He’s no longer mad at the get back, but the thoughts of another man fucking you better and that you could possibly leave him because of that haunt him now.

“I’ll be here to wash your clothes when you get back. Just don’t come in here dripping blood and shit. It’ll be a bitch to get out our new carpets.”

Trevante could see how unphased you were about this whole thing and it only pissed him off more. You gave away your pussy and that belonged to him.

He grabbed your neck and got real close to your face, “Say he’s better than me again, and watch what happens to you.”

You smirked, this is exactly what you wanted, “He’s better than you. Maybe this will teach you not to fuck with dirty ass hoes.”

He chuckled, tightening his hold on your neck a little, “So you mad I fucked one of yo lil friends?”

“She’s not-” He cut you off, “Right. She’s not. But you really went out and did what you did as a get back? You put on your big girl panties and took a shot at me? That’s a mistake, baby.”

He pecked your lips then threw you over his shoulder, “You gone regret that shit.”

“Baby-”

“Nah, don’t “baby” me now. You was just talking all that shit, it’s time to put your money where your mouth is.”

Trevante took you to your shared room and sat you down on your feet then grabbed your neck again, making you look at him, “You gonna be good for Daddy?”

“Mhm.” you avoided his heated stare. You knew what he had in store for you was gone have you acting right...for now.

He tightened his grip on your neck, “Words ma, or you not gone get what you deserve.”

“I’ll be daddy’s good gir-” he adjusted your head to look at him in his eyes, “Good what?”

“I’ll be daddy’s good little slut.”

He pecked your lips and let your neck go, “Take your panties off. Ass up, face down.”

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

Taglist: lmk if you wanna be added or taken off

@prettyisasprettydoes1306 @thatone-girly

@blackerthings @roguekiki @enigmadivine

@novaniskye @ziayamikaelson @twocentuar

[ghastlybirdie]

cw: dementia, short mentions of ultrasounds/children but gn!reader (no use of y/n or names, just 'you')

You always hated the color orange; ever since you were a child you hated it. It wasn't a gentle color like green and it never brought you happiness like yellow. It doesn't even suit your skin tone so you never could quite understand its purpose.

So why were you wearing an orange gown? It wasn't the worst looking shade of orange you've ever seen, but you didn't like the halter top or the bedazzled bodice of it all. Your hair is done so nice and the minimalistic amount of jewelry was tasteful. The strangest part, though, was the other person in the frame. You didn't recognize them. You hardly could of recognized yourself. But it was you, and beside you was a tall gentleman, your arm is slung over his and your head resting against his shoulder.

He's handsome, you think, but he's so clean, babied-faced and awkward in the picture. He's wearing a fancy sort of hat and a neatly pressed navy colored uniform, one with gold and green and red and blue badges a plenty. And his blue eyes shone in the flash of the camera light, his free hand resting on yours.

He's better off with a beard.

And you were right! The next photo you flip through you find yourself again, this time in a much more flattering red blouse, sitting across from the same man. You can tell cause he has the same smile, much more natural now, and the same blue eyes still sparkling through, and a beard grown in. The two of you are at a fancy table judging by the wine glasses and candles lit beside you, and he was holding your hand again, looking at you fondly. Despite the yellowing photo in your hand, it felt so real even just looking down at it. He's holding your hand so gently, even though the place and time eludes you, you could almost feel it in your fingers right now.

You could almost feel a calloused hands, rough in the pads of their fingers and palms, yet clammy all the same. You can't remember why. It was infuriating cause there was a taste in your mouth that made you salivate and belly grumble but you couldn't put your finger on why. If it wasn't for the half eaten plate of food in another photo, you wouldn't have remember that that was the food you ordered. You wondered if it was good. Was it? In the next photo it was you and the man again. Still holding your hand and presenting it to the camera, showed a ring on your finger. You looked so happy. So did he.

What a gorgeous wedding dress. It was ethereal. Serene. It was exactly everything someone could hope for. What you would of hoped for. Long train, full skirt but not heavy, sleeves that fell off your shoulders tastefully, and a bouquet that held all your favorite flowers.

Such a gorgeous photo, a beautiful alter and wedding venue... and such a gorgeous man. He's dressed simply. Tux, matching flowers, freshly cut hair. And mutton chops. You think it's strange... But still very attractive.

The photo is warm and bright, the people surrounding the two of you as you shared a kiss with the gentleman. You know he's the same one. You can feel it in the way your heart aches and pumps inside your chest.

What a lovely photo.

The rest make your heart ache more. Photos of others, more men with rugged and scarred faces, drinking and laughing while you stood over a grill. Photos of the man on the ground, in the grass, a dog laying on top of him. Photos of times of laughter and cheer, of family and friends, you think. Times of happiness. Pictures of ultrasounds and babies, toddlers running and school photos of plenty. Photos of memories. Frozen memories.

Photos that now rest wet in your hands, your vision blurry and hands shaking, a whimper leaving you even though just a moment ago you were just smiling. You were laughing when they were laughing. Smiling when these people smiled. None of them cried, so why did you?

You can't remember why. You couldn't remember why you started to cry. You wept, even, as you pulled the photos out of the protective sleeves, tossing the album book to your feet as you looked over each photo.

You knew that these were photos of you, photos you stood and posed in, photos that had sounds and scents already built into them without a reason in your mind why.

And this man. This man plagued almost every single one. You were so close to tearing one printed picture in two, one of you in that wedding dress you can't quite put your finger on why you were even in front of the camera in the first place; but you paused when you caught sight of writing on the back.

~Wedding Day - Spring of 2014~

So you checked another.

~141 Bar Crawl, Bachelor Party~

And another.

~John's Big Day - Ceremonial Banquet~

John. The man with the beard? The man in your photos, the one with the blue eyes and crinkly eyes?

"Love, what are you doing?" A coarse, gravel voice jolted you in your seat, the rage filled tears ceasing long enough for you to see from where the source of your fright came from.

The man stood over you with a frown in his brows, nose whistling through the mustache as he peered down at you. He gripped a cup in one hand, kneeling down with a deep groan to pick up the photos scattered at your feet.

Your eyes never left him. Never lifted from his features. His hands were rough, even from here you could tell, and his mutton chops were still the same: full and well maintained, though much much more grey. Even with the annoyance they held, his eyes were still the same, brilliant blue. They were much better in person than in the photos.

John.

"I told Maggie not to leave these things out. Oh- You even took my favorite one out." Despite how unkindly of a mess you've made, he never raised his voice. Bothered no doubt, but not angry. Not towards you, you think. Even now, as the photos were carefully plucked and placed back in the photo album, his voice remained calm. Soft.

John.

He sat on the arm chair next to yours, nothing in between you two other than the well loved upholstered chairs you both sat in, both facing towards the bay window and overlooking a tidy garden.

"Do you remember this day?" He asks gently.

Yes. You shake your head. He sighs, something sad in his exhale.

"This is the day I married you." He speaks as if raising his voice would unleash a well kept secret. "I think it's one of the best I've ever looked." He smiled at you, blue eyes so bright, crinkling the same way they've always had.

John.

"And this was when I came home with a broken collar bone. I never seen you so angry before- Oh, love."

You're crying again. You can't remember why, but you understand. His thumb wipes away your tears, thumb pad much softer now after all these years.

"Don't cry. Not for this. We can look at these another day." He's tired. You can hear it in his voice. You heard it whenever he came home. It was so familiar. "I made us stew in the slow cooker, okay? I'll get you a bowl and we can watch something on the telly, yeah?" He stood before you could answer, though you don't think you could. Your tongue was heavy with words, the tip weighed down with something that made your whole body shake. He didn't seem to noticed, focused on his thoughts that he spoke aloud. Just as he always did.

"John..?"

He stood stone still, a shiver visibly running down his spine. He couldn't move like he used to, the captain retired decades ago and stiffness settled into his old bones by now, but he turned so fast that the room spun with him.

You both stared at each other in silence, the air heavy with something unspoken in the past several years, the seconds passing by painfully long. You were the one who finally broke the silence.

"John... Oh- John..!" Was all you could say, your voice rasp and cracking from lack of use, tears once more falling from your eyes and onto your lap. "John, Jo-John... I missed you."

John's face mirrored yours, trembling hands and watery eyes as his mind settled back into his body, feet already moving towards you. He called your name, tender as it ever was, as you cried and reached for his hands. You held them tight as if they'd disappear right from your grasp. He didn't mind. He held you just as tight. Looked at you just as deeply. There were words exchanged in your touch and gaze, ones you both practices and done time and time again.

But you knew those words weren't the ones you wanted to say. You wanted to say more, they were held prisoner in your mouth for so long, yet those weren't what you wanted to say. You knew you meant more. You tried, you did. I love you. You're an angel. I'm sorry. You're my husband. You're my life. I see you, John. I'm here, too. I love you.

But you forgot.

Instead, all that you could say was: "I need to go home..."

John's smile didn't break, not enough for you to see, he kept it up just for you; the smile, the photos, the old music and all. He kept it in hopes to help your memory. It worked, once upon a time, but time waits for no one or thing. It was a crude lesson for many. For him, it was a lesson learned again and again. And for a moment, he nearly lost hope.

"I know, love, I know." He wiped away your tears once more, letting his own fall into his beard and mask the weight that crushed his heart day by day, little by little. "You're home. I'm here. Come, come help me tidy up, yeah? Dinner is ready, love."

Okay, John.

---

Inspired by this prompt~

[apomaro-mellow]

Whatever Stevie Wants 2

Part 1

Wayne was in the kitchen, cooking with Eddie. Steve was lounging in their living room nest, watching as Vanessa crawled around, babbling to herself. She crawled over to him, still making random noises while patting his face. She was just as talkative as her sire. Even now, Steve could hear him from the kitchen, going nonstop over the tv and sounds of cooking.

“She’ll probably start talking before she even gets her first teeth”, Beatrice said from up on the couch. She had her granddaughter Violet in her arms as she dressed her in a new outfit. It was a lavender onesie with her name embroidered on it. Vanessa was already in her own, colored yellow.

Steve adored all their little clothes. “You’re so precious baby”, Steve said, interrupting Vanessa’s speech. 

She bapped him on the mouth and he just bit it gently, eliciting a gummy smile from her. He sat up, bringing her into his arms. They were only six months old and yet they already looked so different from their newborn stage. Both of them had gained weight and filled out, a relief to Steve who had been worried about their skinny limbs at birth.

Vanessa had only a few wisps of hair that had since then began to bloom right on top. The sides and the back of her head were still a bit bare but she looked adorable all the same. Violet’s head was more full but still curled only just slightly. Beatrice told Steve they were sure to see the girl’s true textures by the time they were a full year old.

Steve had always prided himself on his own hair. The Hair had literally been his name in high school. But admittedly, he didn’t have any experience dealing with curly hair of any kind. He had been watching tutorials though, wanting to do right by his girls when their hair really started to come in.

Dinner was pretty much always a family affair when they could do it. The band was still busy at times. But that made the moments when all eight of them could be together special. Eddie and Jeff both had their girls in their laps, feeding them from bottles that Steve had pumped earlier. Vanessa was already holding the bottle on her own. Violet could too, but she seemed to like it when others held it for her.

There was never a lull in conversation when all of them gathered, the conversation flowing from how the Cubs were doing, to what the band was doing next, to the twins, to opinions on grilling techniques. How things had changed from the lonely dinners Steve had alone in his apartment not too long ago.

The bottles put the girls halfway asleep and their fathers finished the job, settling them in their cribs for the night. Wayne and Beatrice turned in too, leaving Steve and the others to cuddle downstairs. Having all these hands to help with the babies was a great blessing. Still, Steve was getting a little stir crazy in this house.

He laid his head on Eddie’s shoulder, whining a little. Eddie immediately gave his full attention.

“What is it, baby?”

“You promised me a beach”, Steve said, a little petulant. 

“We’ve been-”, Eddie started before cutting himself off. There’d been plenty of times he’d seen Steve half dressed, tanning in the sun, but that had always been by a pool. They had yet to go to a beach together. And he needed to fulfill that promise right away.

Steve had been prepared to wait patiently for the schedule to loosen up more for them to go. But he was surprised when a few days later Eddie told him to pack his bags because in just a couple of days they would be in France.

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

“Well, what do ya think?”, Eddie asked, arm around his shoulders. 

Steve had on shades and trunks and he lifted the shades to get a better look at the beautiful sands and sparkling waters. The perks of being a sugar baby meant private beaches with hardly anyone around. Steve caught a few people in the distance, with nothing breaking the lines of their bodies. A private nude beach.

“It’s perfect”, Steve purred. 

Grant kissed his shoulder and then led the way to set up their own little area. A wide umbrella and they kept it simple with just a large towel to lay on. The moment they were settled, Steve shed the trunks and the rest followed suit. Steve was the first to rush into the water and Eddie was drawn to him like an alluring siren. Except instead of leading him to his doom, Steve trapped him in a splash fight.

Jeff and Grant joined in, while Gareth played the long game, wading close by until Steve was distracted. He grabbed him by the ankles, upending him. Steve came back up, sputtering and laughing, hair covering his face. He wrapped his arms around Gareth’s shoulders, leaning in close and then blowing a salty raspberry in his face.

“Agh! You tease!”, Gareth wiped his face.

Steve quirked a brow, taking that as a challenge. He dipped back down under the water then came up slowly, pushing his hair off his forehead while giving Gareth a sultry look over his shoulder. He then started to step towards the beach, knowing they were watching his hips and ass as more of it was revealed while he walked to the shore. He got to their place and sat down, beckoning the four of them over with just his eyes. 

Grant cut through the water the fastest and Eddie wiped out a few times in his haste but soon they were all around him. Grant was at his side, making Steve turn his head for a soft kiss. He nibbled his bottom lip and then kissed at Steve’s neck, giving special attention to the bond bite that Eddie had left.

If his rumble of approval hadn’t given him away, Steve would’ve known Eddie by his scent, spicy with want. Steve opened his eyes, feeling a hand on his thigh and seeing Gareth down by his waist.

“Who’s the tease?”, Steve smirked.

“I didn’t mean it”, Gareth said quickly, kiss his hip.

Eddie settled behind Steve, taking his lips for himself. In his bliss he could feel Jeff’s hands playing with his nipples, then cupping his breasts. Eddie wasn’t the only one who had taken a liking to his milky tits. All of his mates had done so, lavishing him, telling him how lucky their pups were to get something so sweet.

Then he heard Grant release a low growl, one in a warning tone that he’d never heard from the beta before. Steve opened his eyes to see another man standing a few feet away. A distance that wasn’t really respectable given their location. Most guests normally kept to themselves. Steve could guess what brought him over though. Gareth’s hand covered his pussy as his legs splayed out. 

It twitched a little at being watched by a stranger, but he waited for his alpha to speak.

“Can we help you?”, Eddie asked in a bitchy tone that really said ‘get lost’. 

“I was just…”, the man trailed off but his half-mast cock spoke for him.

“I think he wants a show”, Jeff confirmed.

Eddie curled Steve’s wet hair around his finger, dangling him like a piece of meat. Steve looked up at him, waiting to hear what he’d say and his hips shifted under Gareth’s cover. Eddie looked down at him, lips breaking into a smile as he kissed his forehead.

“What do you want, sweetheart?”, he asked, noticing that Steve hadn’t simply closed up or shied away.

Steve just let out a whine. He wanted his mates. He cared very little of some random alpha got off to it.

“I kinda feel bad for him”, Grant said, hand stroking up and down Steve’s sides. “He’ll never get to taste him.”

“Might as well let him see what he’s missing”, Gareth agreed, fingers starting to rub Steve’s cunt.

The man’s eyes were drawn there, trying to catch a peek between Gareth’s fingers, swallowing and getting harder. Steve let out a sigh when a finger finally went inside. Sometimes when there was a disparaging fan online, Steve wanted to throw something like this in their faces. To show the world how much he was adored and how much he loved his pack in return.

This right here was the next best thing. The man moved closer, stroking himself but didn’t cross the imaginary borderline that started at the edge of the towel. Eddie switched places with Grant, who squeezed Steve’s tits from behind.

“Fuck is he…?”

Eddie grinned as a drop of milk spilled from a nipple. “He is. Just had two of the most gorgeous pups. And more on the way if I have any say.” He kissed the stretch marks on Steve’s torso.

Then Gareth spread Steve’s lips as Grant lifted him onto his cock. He loved feeling all their hands on him, working together to bring him over the edge. He was sat down fully and leaned back against Grant, letting both Jeff and Eddie suckle at him. Jeff squeezed the swell of his breast, letting the milk fall naturally in his mouth while Eddie sucked and even bit at his nipple, demanding more. 

Grant lifted his hips and then brought him down, moving Steve’s body as he pleased. He couldn’t even hear his own panting over the sounds of skin meeting skin. Eddie had said more pups, would he carry Grant’s this time? His hips rolled, imagining his belly getting full by the time they got back to the states.

Eddie pulled off his tit with a groan and milked him more, letting it run down his body, some dipping into his belly button, which Gareth greedily licked up. 

“You were made to be pupped up, baby. Look how much milk you got”, Eddie preened, eyes transfixed as it continued to run down to his bush, even getting to his cunt, making an already slick situation even wetter. 

“Daddy, Daddy, oh Daddy please”, Steve panted but couldn’t be sure if he was speaking to just one or all of them. Because that was the truth wasn’t it? It wasn’t just Eddie, they were all his daddies now, and he, their baby.

When Steve came he was sure it could be heard over the crashing waves and that was a good thing. If he had drawn a whole crowd, it was a good thing. He wanted them to see the way Grant’s cum dripped out of him when his dick slipped out. Gareth was on him immediately, licking up his body and rocking his cock against Steve’s clit. It was on the precipice of just too much and had his hands digging into Gareth’s back.

“Gotta keep you plugged up, gotta keep it in”, Gareth said while pushing inside, fucking Grant’s cum back into him.

Steve whimpered against his mouth, hands moving up his spine to pull at his hair instead. Eddie kissed his temple.

“Make sure it takes”, he said before looking at the stranger and the mess he’d made on the sand. With only a subtle nod of the head, Eddie sent him on his way. He didn’t mind showing other folks the treasure he’d found, but only pack got to touch.

Part 3

[randomprose]

“What the fuck are you eating?”

“Uhh,” He Tian looks up from his spread of instant noodles, an unpeeled boiled egg, a half pack of Hot Cheetos, a banana, and two Monster drinks all bought from the convenience store a block away from their apartment. “Girl dinner?”

“A what?” Mo Guan Shan looks at He Tian like he just spoke another language as he puts down the bag of groceries on the kitchen counter.

“You know,” He Tian makes a vague waving motion with his hand that’s not submerge inside the Cheeto packet. “Girl dinner.”

Mo Guan Shan continues to stare at him like he’s gone crazy—which, to be fair, is a look he gives He Tian at least once a day since they’ve known each other.

“Girl dinner! From TikTok! How can you not know what girl dinner is?!”

“You keep saying that like it actually means something.” The condescending look Mo Guan Shan shoots He Tian is enough to put a lesser man to shame. 

But! He Tian is not, and therefore, undeterred. Besides, he gets that look from Mo Guan Shan often enough that he’s built up an immunity. So, he just puts down his chopsticks, licks his hands clean of Cheeto dust, and pulls out his phone to open TikTok.

“Wait. Lemme show you. I can’t believe you’ve never heard of girl dinner. It’s all over TikTok.”

“And what the hell is a TikTok?”

“Ah, sorry. I meant, Douyin. TikTok is just what they call it in the states.”

“If it’s the same then just fucking say Douyin.”

“Whatever. Come here and watch this.”

Mo Guan Shan walks to where He Tian is seated on the couch. He’s pulled up a video and in it, the person is eating…a macaroni and cheese in a wine glass. What the hell. The audio is in English but Mo Guan Shan has taken enough lessons to understand what it says. And then it’s followed by a ridiculous tune singing 'girl dinner' over and over.

He Tian scrolls to more videos and all of them are just food combinations that get more and more appalling to Mo Guan Shan.

A half-eaten sandwich and a glass of chocolate milk, coleslaw and beer, chicken nugget dinosaurs and a couple of cheese cubes. He even saw one that was just a slice of cold pizza and her…anti-depressants.

“What the fuck.”

“See, the idea is it’s not a full meal,” He Tian explains. “Just whatever you have that you can eat because it’s just dinner anyway.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Mo Guan Shan says. “What the fuck.”

“You have to admit though. Infainess to me, I’m eating way better than these people,” He Tian says as he scrolls through his feed, shovelling more Cheetos into his mouth. “I mean, now that I think about it, this isn’t actually girl dinner at all! I’ve got carbs, protein, sugars—hell, I even have a fruit. This is basically a full course meal, yeah?

Mo Guan Shan’s eyes look between He Tian and the spread he has on the coffee table before once again leveling him with a stare that implies he’s gone insane. He’s not sure if he’s being serious or messing with him because He Tian’s relationship with food has always been weird in Mo Guan Shan’s opinion.

“He Tian, you—” He sighs before standing back to return to the kitchen. “Swear to god you went overseas for a couple of years and you got whitewashed.”

“Wha—” He Tian stops mid-chew of his noodles. “Whitewashed? This was how I ate before I met you!”

The pitying look Mo Guan Shan shoots him this time offends him, He Tian’s not gonna lie. 

Mo Guan Shan honestly has no idea how He Tian kept himself alive before he started making him cook for him. He packs away the groceries before starting on dinner prep. A proper dinner. And not that idiotic girl dinner bullshit He Tian is stuffing himself up with. Fucking idiot.

He starts cutting up some vegetables for a quick stir fry after putting on the rice cooker and seasoning some chicken cutlets he plans to grill. He rolls his eyes when he looks up and sees He Tian is still eating his stupid girl dinner meal but at least he’s eating the banana now.

“If you’ve still got an appetite after that junk you just ate you’re welcome to join me for a real dinner.”

“I always have room for your cooking. You know that.”

“Alright.”

“You need help or anything?”

“Nah. It’s fine. This’ll be done quick. Just set the table when I tell you to.”

“Copy that.”

It’s silent then save for He Tian scrolling through his phone and watching videos. Every now and then, something will make him chuckle and Mo Guan Shan will feel his phone vibrate in his pocket which means He Tian has sent those videos to him. Later, they’ll lay in bed and He Tian will watch those videos again with him and laugh all over.

The rice cooker timer goes off just as Mo Guan Shan turns off the stove. He Tian throws his trash and tucks his phone away to set the table.

“Why are you eating that shit anyway?” Mo Guan Shan asks as he scoops rice onto their bowls.

“There wasn’t anything in the fridge I can make. I wasn’t sure what time you’ll be back and you weren’t answering your phone”

“I was in line at the cashier. Couldn’t pick up.”

“Well, you weren’t home and I was hungry. So.”

“Well, I’m here now so quit eating shit like you’re a broke college student. You’re not eating girl meal—”

“Girl dinner.”

“—or whatever the fuck you called that garbage. Not in my fucking kitchen you're not. 

“Alright, alright. Geez. So strict, Little Mo.”

“Tch. For such a picky eater you eat absolute trash. I thought I trained that out of you by now.”

“What am I a dog?”

“Nah. I’ve seen dogs who eat better than you.”

“Oh, like that one lady who has two huskies? Yeah, I’ve seen her videos. Those dogs eat like kings. I mean, prime cut steaks every day? Fuck.”

“Shit. I know, right? And she even cooks them too like—”

The rest of dinner is spent is spent idly chatting. Mo Guan Shan puts more vegetables in He Tian’s bowl which he eats without complaints because he knows it makes him happy. After dinner, He Tian washes the dishes while Mo Guan Shan makes them tea and thinks about dishes he can stock the fridge with that He Tian can just heat up whenever he gets hungry.

They fall asleep scrolling through the videos He Tian has sent Mo Guan Shan throughout the day. 

[em0puppy]

i really don't normally do these things but i've been starting to feel just a teensy bit guilty about not being the sappy type lol and i got this urge at 1 am this morning while in a coffee-driven all-nighter and decided fuck it (this is a repeating factor in decisions i make. send help.)

so here's a small lil list of amazing people i'm genuinely overjoyed to be friends or even just moots with <3

yes im copying brookie bite me /silly

stuff under cut cuz this is gonna be long lol

@mischiefburns - my darling husband first of course !! <3 half joking marriage aside i'd say you're one of my closest friends - even if we've only known each other for just a few months. you're just the right amount of gentle and still know when to put your foot (er, claw-bug-thing) down, and i admire that about you. you know when to stop when boundaries are set up and to not push those, and you're not afraid to enforce your own, something i constantly fail to do (• ▽ •;) i love how open you are about yourself and how caring you care <3 ilysm !! mmmmwah :3 (im trying to get better at regretevator i promise)

@bluginkgo - first things first if you disagree with anything here i will punt you. (/silly /hj) you're so endearing, and your little emoticons never fail to make me smile. the message you sent me the other week really helped a lot, and your reaction spamming when i post art really does help with my motivation !! you're one of the most wholesome people i've ever met, and when your discord pfp changes to your sona with a bandaged leg i get worried for you. i love seeing your discussions in the nuzi server or your art popping up on my dash because HOLY SHIT YOU'RE GIFTED I TELL YOU !!!! like your nuzi fankid exploded my final 0.3 braincells i have left in the absolute best way but i'll save that speech for another time <3

@noridoorman - HIIIII MOM >:3 (i hope this tag is ok!! lmk if it's not <3) you're literally the second person i thought of when writing the idea down for this fhsfeesfigr. i love hanging out with you in VC and watching your stream or you drawing or listening to you and doomed voice ace attorney and you threatening to throw certain people (brookie and blu specifically) out windows or grab them by the scruff is literally the highlight of my day and never fails to make me laugh. you're so kind and funny and i'm sorry i can't share your love of k-pop 😔 (/silly) TRYING TO CATCH UP ON CINNAMON SCENT TOO BUT THE ADHD IS LIKE NUH UH </33

@brookiedaaroacecookie - im claiming you and miko as my siblings we can be triplets (/hj /nf) BUT SERIOUSLY THO i view you as my younger sibling and i love hanging out with you <3 you officiating mischief and mine's (GRR OFC IT WAS REAL /silly) wedding will forever be a memory i'll keep and tell to my grandkids in sixty something years or something like that idfk. i still have your little tag thing screenshotted and i'm sorry i can't tell the difference between french toast and grilled cheese </3 (/silly) also whats keats and why do you always laugh at it or was that an autocorrect thing /silly but also /gq

@spinnydraws - DFUHERFGRGIE I KNOW WE'VE ONLY BEEN MOOTS FOR LIKE. A WEEK AND A HALF OR SOMETHING IDK. BUT. HEAR ME OUT. already i view you as a friend and i'm extremely grateful to be moots with you! you're extremely funny and kind, and when you like or reblog my art i ascend to heaven. everytime i see your art i explode all over again even if i've already exploded not five minutes ago. AND WHY ARE YOU LITERALLY SO N. LITERALLY. WAHT. (/vpos) BUT LIKE. honestly you're a big comfort of mine already (i have a problem of wanting to be besties with literally every n kinnie out there. uzi kintype noises.) and i'd love to get to know you more !! <3

@nuzilicious - i refuse to give up trying to make you undislike me. until then all u get is ur awesome and im extremely thankful u havent blocked and banned me!!!!!! /silly /j

@uzibrainrot - omg what do i even say. you're so wholesome and so goofy and i loved roleplaying md with you on roblox even if it was just for a bit and if you wanna do it again sometime i'd absolutely love to!!!! i know we don't interact much but when we do it's awesome !! i promise the art trade is almost done i promise promise promise shhdshjdshfh. ALSO WHEN YOU WANNA WORK ON THAT VOLL CRACKFIC TOGETHER LMK!!! :DDD!!

i would @ andy but idk his tumblr so um. andy if you see this, you're not only one of the kindest most woke and most funny beings on this planet (i've never seen a cishet guy do a colon three it's literally so funny HELP /lhj /gen), but also a mind-blowingly awesome mc player !! :DD

ok i must disappear into the void to take care of my cramps (ew) so im gonna die now but ily all sm and hope you're all doing MORE than great !!! :DD!!!!! (/p /gen) explodes and dies in the grand canyon. or something. idk i need to stop exploding.

[lustnluv]

devil night - angel and john b

tw/violence, mentions of rape, drugging, mentions loss of virginity, blood, two people getting their ass beat (it was deserved)

three years ago

angel

“how is she feeling?” rafe called from the back. john b didn’t respond. he kept his eyes on the road and his arm kept me pinned against him.

“i got room back here if you need a breather.” he joked and I heard pope laugh. the arm around me got tighter that I was practically sitting on his boner.

“i think she’s fine up here. more then content it looks like.” jj stepped in causing rafe to scoff.

jj and john b always joined in on rafe’s antics. jj was a bit more on his ass then john b. john b still has a leash on him though but it was much looser.

“what was the point of burning that house down if it’s already abandoned? and why thst specific house?”

“you hear that boys? she wants to know what the point was?” john b spoke finally and all of them chuckled. his mouth was near my ear and this part was spoken in my ear. his voice low and deep as he started to explain. “for three reasons. one because we can. two because i despise drugs and even though it was abandoned, fucked up shit still happened there. and for the third reason you’ll see soon.”

“so is that it for tonight?” I asked as we kept driving toward the bridge that connects to the better edge of the cut. “it was a bit underwhelming.”

“no she did not.” pope joked and I saw his hand and head pop out from behind us. “we’re just getting the night started.”

“still underwhelming.” I told him and he just smiled as jj chuckled. “gonna regret saying that.” pope teased and his smile was so easy that I found myself smiling back at him.

that moment jj brought the car to the shoulder of the road and shut it off. “what are you-?” john b put his hand over my mouth. “shhh. just watch and listen okay?”

and i did. I heard the sirens of my multiple vehicles coming this way. taking a deep breath, i leaned forward as much as I can with him holding me. i pressed my legs together as I waited for it to come closer.

“jesus christ. is this turning you on?” john b asked his hands running down my stomach.

we watched as five cop cars and three fire trucks started to come towards us. “it is isn’t it?” he whispered and his hands went back to my hips, guiding it so I was basically grinding against his leg. “you get off when you’re excited? or are you nervous?”

whimpering, i grabbed onto his arm as they passed by us. part of me wanted him to stop. the guys were here and rafe was already making comments towards me but then other side of me didn’t care.

i heard pope and jj let out a woop as they past and I sat up more, trying to get him to stop.

we waited until we couldn’t hear the sirens anymore before john b wrapped his arms around my waist again and jj drove back onto the road. racing back over the bridge to the better part of the cut we pulled over once again facing the bridge.

“w-why are we stopping over here?” i asked looking around us but it was just filled with trees and stuff. “you’ll see.”

we waited for two minutes before bright lights filled the car and two semi trucks raced past us. pope leaned forward, phone in hand a huge smile on his face. we watched as the trucks crossed the bridge before turning inwards. grill to grill.

they were blocking the whole road and if I remember correctly that was the only way towards this part. the police force was small and i’m sure they just sent more then half of their police force on duty tonight over the bridge for one fire.

“you called the police?” I asked jj and he nodded. “made have told a little lie and told them five fires were started and was spreading rapidly.” he explained, shrugging but I heard the smile in his voice.

“impressed yet?” john b asked in my ear.

two figures from each of the cabs of the trucks came out and ran towards the car.

that’s who we needed extra room for.

“that was fucking amazing.” one of them said as they opened the car door. they both climbed in and i regonized them as a couple of seniors; mason crist and alex yang.

“we put the security code just like you asked.” alex explained, handing the keys back to jj. “your uncle won’t know until tomorrow morning just like you said.” jj’s uncle on his mom’s side owned several trucking companies around the south.

I wonder what he did to make her so mad.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇🗡️⋇⋆✦⋆⋇🗡️⋇⋆✦⋆⋇🗡️⋇⋆✦⋆⋇🗡️⋇⋆✦⋆⋇🗡️⋇⋆✦⋆⋇🗡️⋇⋆✦⋆⋇🗡️⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

we dropped the two boys back over to their cars and i went back over to my seat next to will. I went in my own accord cause I rather not have him ask me too.

we was currently waiting for rafe outside the mayor’s house. he even grabbed the phone from pope. i’m guessing this was his prank.

i’m guessing it was something that the rest of us couldn’t see. or wouldn’t want to see.

something i definitely didn’t want to.

he came back and got into the back. instead of the regular cigarettes we would smell on him, it smelled like perfume.

“so how was she?” pope asked and rafe just smiled.

“did it in their bed?” jj questioned and rafe shook his head. “the wife wasn’t here. she’s out of town.” he explained and I saw pope face turned from excitement to pure confusion.

rafe smirk got bigger as he put his fingers in his mouth. he let out a little groan, “just love the taste of virgins.”

then it hit me.

the mayor’s youngest daughter.

neva perez.

jj head turn around fast and pope turned away from rafe. “are you serious?” jj asked, his smile from earlier gone as he glared at his friend.

“yeah and i was able to get a video. wanna see it?” rafe held the phone up still smirking.

it just made jj madder and he was ready to open his mouth again when john b just shook his head as we left neva’s house. jj looked back to the street in front of us.

“so we just sat here while you got your dick wet?” i asked and he leaned over. “want to join next time? didn’t take you as the type to like pussy.”

“over your dick? I’ll take it,” I shot back and whatever tension in the car quickly left as the other three boys laughed.

“damn angel. didn’t know you had that in you,” pope joked.

“wasn’t even that funny.” rafe grumbled. all that gloating and show boasting he was doing just a minute ago was gone.

“what’s the matter rafe? can’t take a joke anymore?” john b asked and rafe just mumbled something as he crossed his arms.

“thought of your prank pope?” john b moved on and pope just shook his head. “can’t decide.”

“what about you, angel?”

“me?”

“yeah you. you’re apart of tonight so decide what you want to do.”

“nothing baby like please. I didn’t come back to tp a teacher’s house. haven’t done that since middle school.” rafe spoke up.

“can we grab something to eat real quick? i’m starving and maybe food will help me decide.” pope said and john b nodded and I recognized the way we were going.

it was the town’s bar. billy’s. it was also where local kids came and hang out. only few get served but there was really no where else to hang out unless you go to the outskirts.

when we pulled in the parking lot, it was already filling up. pope hopped out as the others - including me - got out slowly.

“finally.” pope mumbled and we all started to make our way in but something made me stop in my tracks.

trevor johnson sitting down with a beer in his hand as his girlfriend, amber cho all over him. not a care in the world and it made my skin crawl at how normal they can act.

“hey, I’m just going to hang out in the car. not really that hungry.” i said before walking back to the car but a very familiar hand pulled me back.

“what’s the problem?” john b asked, looking down at me.

“it’s nothing. just not hungry.” I lied, trying to maintain eye contact.

“girls always making shit complicated.” rafe mumbled and I wanted to smack him.

“don’t fucking lie. you was always horrible at it. tell me the truth, what made you change your attitude so quickly?” john b questioned.

“trevor.” I mumbled.

“speak up.”

“trevor. him and his girlfriend. t-they druged me at a party. she handed me a spiked drink but he was in on it. it was my first time drinking so it really didn’t take much for it to work. i don’t remember much until my friend nico was shoving his fingers in my thorat, making me throw it all up. he was the one who saw me stumbling upstairs with them dragging me.”

“did they?” john b started to ask but I shook my head fast. “nico broke down the door before anything happened to me. they had me on the bed with my shirt off.”

“jesus.” jj mumbled, looking back at the two of them.

“and you didn’t tell anyone?” pope asked his usual happy demeanor gone. i never seen him mad before and it was kinda unsettling.

“i did. i told my mom and andy and they both told mr routledge but he didn’t do anything because-.”

“because trevor’s father and mine are working together and he didn’t want to ruin the relationship. probably decided that it was better to keep it between houses.” john b finished.

“exactly. trevor didn’t get in any kind of trouble and was just told to stay away from me.”

i couldn’t tell them how much it hurt. mr routledge always was protective over me and the one time i wanted him to be he put his business before me. my honor wasn’t as important to him after all. it made me reevaluate who he really was and what he really wanted from me.

“what are we going to do about it then?” rafe asked, who was silent this whole time, his face barley changing but his expression seemed to get darker and darker the more I talked.

i opened my mouth to explain that I already tried to do something but i stopped. it was devil’s night. they all pulled some type of pranks of their own and it was my turn.

“we’re going to get them back.” i said a plan quickly forming in my head as I watched amber walk away from her boyfriend.

taking off my hoodie and fixing my hair, i started to explain my plan. “i’m gonna lead him into the bathroom and i’m pretty sure that his girlfriend will go in with him. you guys come in and we show them what happens when you fuck with me.”

it was going to work. the same protection he had on him, i had on me as well. including john b, jj, rafe, and pope’s protection they have with their parents. we was basically untouchable.

i looked at them and they were silent and staring at me. I don’t know why, I was wearing a tank top even if I was bra less right now. they seen girls naked and in multiple positions before.

but that didn’t look that way right now. pope had his head down but he kept stealing glances at me and john b, jj was looking at the both of us two with his mouth in the shape of an “o”, rafe was obvious with his staring never breaking eye contact with my boobs, and john b had his jaw clenched and hands tightened into a fist.

i smiled at them and bounced on my feet trying to hype myself up. “it’s going to be fun.” I stated before slipping my hand into pope’s pocket and stealing the flask i saw him sipping out of a couple times tonight.

“hey!” he said but john b held him back and i felt their eyes on me as i walked in. i took a sip from it and almost gagged on whatever was in here.

the fuck was he drinking?

i slowed my pace and added a sway to my hips. copying the walk i seen plenty of girls do when they went to flirt.

I bumped into trevor, spilling some of whatever in here on the both of us. “i’m so sorry.” i giggles and trevor’s eyebrow shot up as he took in the state of me.

“it’s all good pretty one. what you drinking tonight?” he asked grabbing the flask and wrapping his other arm around my waist. he sniffed it and he looked at me in surprise.

“gin? didn’t think you would be the one to drink this.”

i shrugged taking it back. “got into a bad fight with andrew. he thinks i’m his and i’m exhausted from telling him over and over again that i’m not.”

“that’s fair.” he said as i pressed myself into him more. “show me to the bathroom please. i need to clean up.” he nodded fast and held my hand as we made our way to the bathroom.

i stumbled a couple of times so he thought i was drunk enough to not care about who he is or what happened between us. gotta catch him off guard.

i walked directly to the sink as we entered the bathroom. i turned on the faucet and grabbed a paper towel, putting under the water and then patting myself with it. arching my back so he can have a good show while looking in the mirror.

“god that feels good.” i sighed and he came closer to me. looking around i realized the only thing i can use against him was the metal spiel of the soap dispenser and the mirror.

wonder how fast i can get that out. just in case.

i felt his hot breath on me and unlike with john b it didn’t feel good. no chills just annoyance.

“you’re so hot, angel. drew has no idea what to do with a body like yours huh?” he asked, a hand going up my back.

ugh.

“you’re too sweet.” I giggled, turning around to face him. “sweet? i’m being fucking honest. you should have someone like me to take care of you.” he kissed up my ear and i pushed him off. “trevor.” i mumbled trying to push him off.

“come on. you know you want me to finish what really happened that night.” he whispered in my ear, tightening his arm around me. “no i don’t.” i pushed him harder causing him to stumble.

he watched me and i started to walk out so I can send the boys in. the door opened and i almost felt safe until i saw it was just amber.

“leaving so soon? I wanted to join the party.” she said and trevor chuckled and grabbed me by my waist and pinned me to the sink again.

“no. take her from behind. i really don’t like how she tried to get us in trouble for trying to have fun.” she demanded and he did as told.

i started to pull at the spiel and it was already coming loose. good. i could take one of their eyes out with it.

“I love him fucking girls. it turns me on so much.” amber whispered in my ear. “you’re gonna make for some good foreplay screaming and running away like that.”

bitch.

reaching out, i grabbed some of her long black hair and used it to slam her face into the mirror in front of me. she screamed and with one hard pull I got the spiel out.

he already had his grip loose on me when he went to soothe his girlfriend so it was easy to turn around and punched him with the spiel.

“what the fuck?!” he held his face and I backed myself in the corner. in one hand a piece of mirror and in the other the spiel.

at least until the boys get in here.

“come here you bitch!” amber screeched and i swung out with the spiel and cut her on her hand and she held it towards her.

i kicked her back so she’ll be in the corner and looked at revor who was covering his eye.

I didn’t really mean when I said I wanted to cut his eye out.

“damn little one. did you save some for us to do anything?” pope asked as him and the other boys entered the bathroom.

john b immediately grabbed trevor and pushed him over to where I kicked his girlfriend. “you can go to the car. we’ll take care of them from here.”

nodding, i went over to them and spat on trevor. “don’t you ever fucking touch me again.” then I walked out into the crowd and got a soda for myself.

[necros-writing-stuff]

It's been a really long time since I've been here, life has just been too busy and tiring. I haven't even been able to draw I'm so sorry. Can I ask for two?

PC with a flu or high fever with Eden and Trauma induced Eden insisting on going out to work or sell products to earn money to pay Bailey given that they're already permitted by Eden to go back to town every now and then and that Eden didn't directly buy PC from Bailey. Take your time imma just be here sick in bed.

Hey! So sorry this took so long! I hope you're doing much better now. And don't worry about not having done art! We all work at our own paces, don't push yourself to create when you don't have the will to.

I think I've already covered PC with a sickness, and how Eden is a stern but attentive caretaker. We can see this when there's pass out events at the cabin. They bring you in, put you to bed. After the pred/prey scene they even get you water. So Eden would likely work as normal, but come in to check on you every so often. Get you a drink or a snack. If you're well enough, you can do small indoor chores. If not, sleep as much as is needed.

As for traumatised Eden at the market? Mmmm that good. That's a yummy one. Note: when I say that it's often about horrible things, isn't it? Double note: Lynx would be Axe body spray to the 'Muricans.

Oh - warning for mentions of past non-con btw.

There's too much noise. It burrows into his brain, denying any attempts to drown out the calls of purveyors of goods around him. Calling out their produce, prices, how long they'd be there.

There's a baby crying. Wailing as it's father talks on the phone and half-asses shushing it by waving a toy in its face while he isn't even looking at the babe.

There's so many smells he swears they're causing him a headache. Food. Sweat. Some abhorrent chemical smell as a group of teenage boys pass. He remembers Lynx. Remembers the locker rooms at school.

There's eyes everywhere. Blue, green, brown. He thought he saw red at one point. No- no he definitely did. There's a group of goths wandering around. Probably one of them with contact lenses. Eden could swear he feels at least one pair of eyes on him each and every second.

Scant few customers come to his stall. Its mostly older patrons: elderly craftspeople who still practise their trades as the youth buy from companies; aspiring chefs excited to grill up some real game; this one old man who always shows up for the dried back-strap. Eden doesn't remember his name, but the man swears by the stuff. Says Eden comes with the best stock and those other hunters bring bare scraps. Not a surprise, he's seen the incompetence of others who come through the forest.

He swears he can hear laughter amongst the throngs of people. Swears that it must be directed at him. His ugly face. His huge body. His clothing, old and patched. But he has to stay. Has to do it for you. To keep you safe and out of Bailey's money machine.

He wished you were here. Wished you'd come bounding up to him with that smile of yours and drag him home. But you're also at work, coralling dogs at the pound for spare change to contribute to Eden's payments to Bailey. Apparently the mutts listen now that you smell like him. Funny thing, how he affects animals. Even dumbass chickens hate him. He'd considered getting some once, but they'd get so stressed around him they wouldn't be able to lay any eggs. Oh, and foxes could take them.

Best to stay there, in those inconsequential memories of the past. It's hard to when he sees a face that surges horrid memories to the front instead. The man looked to be about 70 by this point, wobbling around with a cane. He'd already been grey when they'd met.

"Got any boar meat, lad?" He wheezed, bug-like eyes pooring over the table. His voice was weaker than it had been. There's no flicker of recognition in the freaky eyes.

"A few cuts. Belly or back? I've got hooves, too." Eden's voice doesn't break. Doesn't show his rising panic.

A claw-like hand reaches out to where Eden directed his attention. A shiver goes down the hunter's spine. He remembers those hands. How clammy and cold they'd been. How... insistent and encompassing.

"Aye, this one's a good heavy steak. How much?"

Eden's eyes didn't leave the old man's face. "Freshest cut, got the beast last night. £5."

The old man licks his lips as he pries his wallet free, the appendage dried, cracked and pale. Just like the rest of him. He'd had a tan back then. A terrible, fake one. Fucker had been orange.

Teens ran past once more, barely missing the old man as they screamed. The crypt-bound bag of bones scoffed, disgust apparent. But his eyes linger too long on one of the older boys, with longer dark hair and a skinny frame, just about old enough to start drinking Eden thinks.

Attention soon returned to the hunter, the smile back. Oh look, he'd kept half of his teeth. Impressive for someone his age. They were rotted, though. More so than they had been when he'd visited the orphanage. Probably time for dentures. Eden could still remember the smell of his breath.

"£5, a good price for a good steak. My wife will fry this up well." He's laughing. Eden grants him a polite smile as he wraps up the meat and hands it over.

He tracks the old man as he leaves, watching as his thumb strokes over the paper bill in his hand. He doesn't take a deep breath until he knows he's gone. He can't take a deep breath until he knows, for sure, that he's gone.

£2.50 was what he'd payed for Eden back then.

[fazedlight]

Hi! Sorry if this is too personal, feel free to ignore if that's the case. I'm just interested in talking about queer, esp bi/pan, experiences.

I'm a fellow bisexual and one of my gripes with society at large and the LGBTQ+ community especially is that I often feel like people only see my attraction to same-gender people and erase the fact that I'm also attracted to people of other genders. It has gotten better over the years, but when I was a teenager I even referred to myself as homosexual with exceptions because I only felt welcome in the lesbian community when I denounced all attraction to men and I thought that if I didn't find a home in the lesbian community, I wouldn't be at home anywhere because bisexuality was so heavily erased and mostly seen as a joke or as a half-assed stepping stone to coming out as gay. I'm also not helping my case by being married to a person of the same gender, though I continue to insist that being married to one person of one gender does not make my attractions to other genders invalid.

Most other bisexuals I know have similar experiences to mine on account of either being in a same-gender relationship or single but still defined by their same-gender attraction. From what I've gathered from your profile (and sorry if I'm wrong!), you're married to a person not of the same gender. What are your experiences like? Do people erase your attraction to same-gender people? Does the LGBTQ+ community read your relationship as "straight-passing" and if so, do they take kindly to that? (I'm thinking of sentiments like no "straight" people at pride that completely ignore that people who look "straight" to you might still be queer in so many ways.)

Thank you in advance for your thoughts.

Oh boy, anon, let me tell you, I know a LOT of bi/pan people in your shoes.

This got a bit long, so I'll put my answer below the cut.

My experience these days is pretty chill (I'll get to that), but when I was a baby bi, I remember attending a bi-themed event at our LGBT group in college. I was the only bisexual to show up, and ended up spending over an hour answering questions from people basically grilling me on how bisexuals could even exist. To this day I wish I had just walked out instead of spending all that time being so stressed. It scared me off doing community stuff for a long time, unless I had people around me who I knew.

I've been pretty lucky with queer friends, though - bi/pan people, but also gay and ace - who really saw me. So throughout college and now, my friends' group and the sort of general/informal queer social circles I've run in have been very accepting.

I was never particularly feminine (have never bought makeup, have never owned heels, haven't owned a dress since before I started dating my now-spouse, haven't shaved since freshman year of college, etc). I've always leaned towards men's clothes, and then I started buzzcutting my hair into a short crew cut. I also have a man's wedding band.

Because of all that, I get read as queer in public. It's to the point where, when I start a new job, I can see the looks of confusion when I mention my husband. When people see a butch, they expect a lesbian - so I create a lot of confusion, and they kind of have to accept that I am both queer and have a husband. (I wouldn't be surprised if some of them think I'm confused about my sexuality, but none have made that my problem so far.)

But I feel like the femme bi/pan experience - which is far more common, I feel like butches are fairly rare in my circles whether lesbian or bi - receive much more bullshit from people. Because it's easier to be femme and "look straight", and so femmefolk get written off, even though they're equally valid.

I will say that I think online spaces can feel a bit erasing. Like there's a lot of thirstposting in online culture, but it feels like breaking an unspoken rule to thirstpost about both male and female celebrities*, or to talk about sex with men and women. It always makes me facepalm a bit when people call Claire Max a lesbian, when she's been very clear that (1) she is bi, and (2) she is currently dating both a man and a woman and has even been dating the man (Kyle) for longer. It really saddened me a month ago when an artist who draws a lot of wlw art talked about how people gave her shit for drawing m/f art, too. She shouldn't have to segregate her art to two accounts. (*I think there are also often unspoken rules about nonbinary people, in identity-erasing ways. But that's a rant for another post.)

I've been lucky to not really encounter those erasure problems in IRL queer spaces in recent history - possibly because the ones I've been in have been heavily mixed on the gender/sexuality spectrum.

I feel like a lot of this is very dependent on local norms. I think the more conservative an area is, the harder it is for people to embrace anyone who doesn't fit cleanly into 2 categories. That goes for male/female/nonbinary, straight/gay/bi, top/bottom/vers, etc. It turns out the "fuzzy" categories are actually VERY common. But binaries are easier for people to grasp.

But I feel like I've rambled on enough. In short, these days, I think my butchness & my local context both sort of shield me from some of the common bi problems. Which is lucky for me, but is absolutely a bullshit thing about culture that we all should work on fixing.

You're valid as a bi person, regardless of who you're in a relationship with (or not in a relationship with).

[the-bar-sinister]

Bleeding, Broken, Mended (37944 words) by VickytheSnake, thesavagesabretooth Chapters: 7/?

Summary: Law is certain that he was 'rescued' just so Doflamingo could kill him himself, but Doffy has other plans. As far as he's concerned, Law's decade-long quest for revenge was nothing more than a sad misunderstanding. He wants to remind Law how things used to be. He wants to find a way to bring Law back into the fold-- back to him-- forever.

catch up here

-

Law was sitting up now, a few hours after his…complicated…dream. Bepo had woken up alongside him, and rose with the usual clamor of a bear waking up from sleep.

What was he supposed to do? He wasn't allowed to wander around the ship yet. Not with half the family thinking about killing him for Doflamingo's sake despite the mans' own wishes. It wasn't as if he was given any instruction beyond that either, however…

So Law found himself sitting on the bed in his dried and washed clothes, leaning his head against the boards as he watched Bepo bustle around the room. 

"Feeling any better this morning, captain?" Bepo asked, stretching a big stretch. It would have been cramped on their own ship, but the ceilings in Doflamingo's ship were built understandably higher. At almost 8 feet tall, Bepo had been the largest member of Law's crew, which was not the case with the Doquixote family.

No, they tended to either skew far larger, or far smaller than the Heart Pirates. A wild variance of size that meant a wild variance in accommodations for everyone. Yet, despite their reputation , the reputation Law himself often spouted— they always made those accommodations for the family.

"A bit. Had some dreams but…yeah. Feeling a little better." 

The bear paused mid-stretch and cocked his head. "Dreams, huh? Anything you want to talk about?"

Bepo probably thought he'd had nightmares.

Law waved his hand as he leaned his head back against the wall. "Nothin' bad…just an old memory. Reading. Reading those stupid Sora comics back when I was a kid…"

His eyes flicked to the door, as if to say 'with Doflamingo'. 

Bepo's gaze followed his own, and his ears flicked. Looked like he understood. "When you were with these guys, right? I guess it's not surprising that you'd dream about something like that."

"Exactly, yeah…it makes sense, right? Spent all yesterday being reminded of it. Hell, even his room on the ship looks like his room back then. His taste hasn't changed an ounce." 

"I'm almost afraid to ask. What's his room like?"

Law laughed sharply. "Like a kid got his first chance to decorate and never grew out of the aesthetic. It's animal print, comic books, tone dials and more cushions than you can count. Sometimes I'm surprised he doesn't have posters of famous musicians or some shit on his walls too." 

"Huh. I wouldn't have guessed—"

Bepo was cut off by a sharp knock on the cabin door.

"I kn–" Law paused for a moment before he ran his hand through his hair and called. "Come in." 

Only then did the door open, and once again, it was Doflamingo. He was all smiles, but he looked tired. He looked tired in a way that reminded Law almost eerily of the way he'd looked in his memory.

In reality, however, he had had a cart with him with a couple of trays on it.

"I brought breakfast," he declared, sounding rather pleased with himself.

Law sat up with a half smile. "...I can see that. Is it edible?" he teased "didja make it yourself?" 

"Is it edible, he asks," Doffy scoffed, crossing his arms. "No, it's fucking rocks, Pica put it together."

Bepo looked between Law and Doflamingo, clearly unsure of what was going on.

Law snickered sharply. "Great. Tell him to eat it, I'll pass. I heard he wanted to bulk up again." He saw Bepo's reaction before he rubbed his neck. "...Pica assimilates rocks and controls it." 

"Oh." Bepo still looked confused. 

Doffy just giggled and pulled the lid off the tray. "It's not fucking rocks, stupid."

On the tray there were about a dozen rice balls and a large quantity of grilled fish, as well as a large pitcher of what smelled like coffee. Good coffee.

The scent of coffee hit his nose and he practically shot up with the desperate need of a man who had too much to drink last night. His eyes fell on the rice balls "...shit…my favorite." 

"Still, huh? I wondered." Doffy grinned. "Shall I join you for breakfast or would you two like some time? Komurasaki's in the galley with the family. I had her bunked up with Baby 5 for the night."

He started pouring cups of coffee.

Law glanced at Bepo to gauge his feelings on the situation, his hand on his hip. "...wait, Komurasaki's bunking with Baby 5? Huh. That's…dangerous." 

"They actually seemed to be getting along pretty well at dinner," Bepo murmured. He seemed wary– but admittedly, Bepo was usually wary with new people. He was very much used to new people, even nice people, assuming that he was stupid, or dangerous, or both.

Doffy offered Law the first cup of coffee, then handed one to Bepo as well. "I noticed that, too. They were chatting away over the dishes when I came down to get Bepo after our dinner, Law."

"That's even worse," Law drawled "...I just got Komurasaki to sign on, and now Baby 5's going to break out her gossipy fucking stories on her, I know it."

He took the coffee with a nod, half leaned on Bepo's shoulder to comfort him. "...but seriously enough, that's nice to hear…I was worried about Baby last time I saw her." 

Bepo took the coffee, leaning carefully on Law in return. He looked a little pleased to have been passed the cup so automatically. Sometimes he got questions about 'does he drink coffee' or 'can it drink coffee?', and similar.

"Yeah, no surprise there," Doflamingo said, helping himself to a cup as well. "It was a pretty tense situation the last time the two of you ran into one another."

"I think she called me a traitor and tried to blow my head off," Law drawled. "...and she looked miserable. So if talking with Komurasaki cheers her up, I'm all for it. As long as she doesn't gossip all respect Saki has for me away."

He grinned at Bepo and raised his mug before taking a long sip. 

"Is there a lot of gossip, captain?" Bepo asked, carefully drinking his coffee. Between his teeth and his muzzle drinking from cups rather that bottles was occasionally a tricky proposition, but he always managed it gracefully.

Doffy grinned even wider. "Oh there is so much gossip. But most of it just makes Law sound cool. Like a lunatic, but very cool."

Law took a long sip. "Yeah, well…I was kind of a fucking lunatic back then. So I guess it's fair." 

Bepo gave him a sidelong look, as if to gently remind the captain that he was still kind of a fucking lunatic sometimes.

Doflamingo giggled and passed around plates, and hinted at the stories he could tell as they ate breakfast. Either Doffy had gotten a lot better at shaping rice balls in the last 13 years, or he'd had help making them.

Law found himself wondering exactly which— if he'd had help, or if he'd made them more often, and for who. 

As they ate, he countered as best he could. For every story the family had about him, he had one about them. Like the time Baby 5 accidentally shot Buffalo in the arm. 

Doffy smirked at that one, freshening all their coffee cups. His tone was teasing. "Oh I never heard about that one before. Keeping secrets from me?" 

"She swore me to secrecy, Doffy." Law drawled. "But at this point? With the shit she's probably telling Komurasaki? The seal's past its expiration date."

He leaned on his hand as he ate."She was still getting used to her powers and she punched him when he made a rude comment about her need to please. And then her hand went off and we had to pull the bullet out and bandage him before you got back." 

Doffy giggled. "I swear, the ridiculous things the three of you got up to. I–"

Whatever he was going to say was cut off by a firm knock on the door.

Law glanced up sharply, shrinking back a little in surprise. "...come in?" 

Doflamingo looked just as surprised and everyone's attention was on the door as it opened. Filling it was a familiar imposing figure in a heavy fur coat.

"Am I interrupting?" Trebol asked, peering around the room through his shining little pince-nez glasses.

Law bristled slightly, fingers tensed against his knee as he looked cautiously up at Trebol. Trebol, one of Doffy's executives…and a man he studied extensively under for years and years…and a man who did NOT take betrayal well.

He was certain that of the Donquixote pirates who wanted him smothered in his sleep or tossed back into the ocean, Trebol was probably high on the list.

He smiled awkwardly at him. "Hey, uh, just breakfast. And gossiping about Baby 5." 

Doffy's reaction to Trebol's presence didn't instill confidence, either. He snapped up like a jack in the box and interposed himself between Law and the door. "What's up, Trebol? Is it something that can wait until after breakfast?"

Law couldn't see around Doffy's coat, but he heard the annoyance in the executive's voice. "Theoretically, I suppose. We need to talk about our bearing, Doffy. And I don't mean that fellow over there, before you joke."

Bepo caught Law's gaze with a questioning flick of his ear.

Law, meanwhile, realized that this was the first he'd heard about bearing. In fact, he realized he had no idea where the ship was headed at all.

Law glanced back at Bepo with a slight shrug before he leaned over and whispered. "...that's Trebol. One of Doflamingo's top executives. He's a scholar, of a sort." He spoke up, leaning on his hands. "...so where's this ship headed, anyway?"

Trebol had made his way into the room, and leaned out from around Doflamingo to peer at him again. "Not that it's exactly your business Law, but that's what I intended to discuss with the young master. I guess if you have any place you need to go, now would be the time to say so." He chuckled, as if it were a joke.

Doffy put his hand on Trebol's shoulder and gave him a familiar look. Law read it as 'is this really necessary?'

Law's eye twitched under the mop of his hair, his teeth gritting together for a moment before he composed himself. 'Somewhere he needs to go', as if Law had anything left…anything tangible to the original goal still within reach with his friends dead and his luck pretty damn run out.

"Hah hah, Trebol. Thanks. Unless you're willing to give me the ship and sail me into the final stretch of the Grand LIne…I think I'm fresh out of vacation destinations." 

Trebol chuckled again. "I guess your sense of humor hasn't suffered at least."

Bepo looked confused. Doffy looked exhausted and annoyed. 

"Actually, Trebol that's a good point to bring up," Doffy drawled looking between the two of them. "I was planning to ask Law over breakfast where exactly he'd been sailing to. 'Saki never said."

Law wasn't sure whether he was trying to ease the tension, or to wind Trebol up. Knowing Doffy, it could have been either.

Law rubbed his arm "...I wasn't lying. I was headed deeper into the Grand Line. I was planning on hitting the rest of the known islands on my log pose towards the 'final island'. The idea was we were going to use the Poneglyph rubbings we got to try and find the One Piece before Straw Hat could."

He looked off to the side "...he was really excited about us all going for it together, as a kind of competition. We lost." 

"The end of the grand line." Doffy whistled. "Now that's a ballsy goal. Alright, if we need a new bearing, I think that calls for a family meeting."

"And here I thought you'd go and give the ship to Law," Trebol drawled. "A family meeting sounds like a wise idea, young master."

Bepo's ears were drooping. He was starting to look like maybe he'd have preferred to be left in the water.

Law honestly felt like maybe he'd like to be right there with him. This was a mess. Of course it was a mess. It was always going to be a fucking mess.

He looked off to the side. "....I suppose I'll be asked to stay in here, right?"

"Personally, I'd prefer if you came to the meeting," Doffy countered cheerfully. "Assuming you'd like to have your opinion counted."

Law was taken off guard. He expected an 'absolutely, yes we want you to stay in the room' or if life was good a 'you're alright to wander around while the meeting goes on'.

Not 'come to the meeting actually'.

"What?" 

"What?" was Trebol's exact reaction as well.

Bepo didn't say anything, but his head whipped around with surprise too.

Doffy smiled brightly and clapped his hands together. "Well, since Trebol asked if you had a destination, I assume he wants your opinion to be heard, so you should be at the meeting. And the rest of your crew."

"Hey, hey, Doffy are you sure this is—"

Doflaming drew himself up to his full height— still much shorter than Trebol but certainly imposing. "Is there a problem, Trebol? You did ask Law if he had anywhere to be."

"Ah…" Trebol looked between Doffy and Law.

Maybe Law's surprise wore off faster than Trebol's…because he felt the familiar urge to mess with the man well up inside him once again. For the first time in a long time.

He leaned forward, elbows balanced against his knees as a smile sliced across his face. "Trebol, you're a real standup guy. Because you offered so nicely…and thanks for that…I'll be happy to have my crew attend the family meeting. Because you're so interested in hearing my opinion. Thanks again." 

Trebol sputtered and started to cough into his handkerchief. Doffy patted him on the back companionably. 

"Easy there, Tre, don't get too excited about it, eh? Though I know it's been a long time since Law's sat in on a family meeting."

Trebol composed himself, and even smiled— tightly— after a moment. "It has been a very long time, hasn't it. Actually, before that meeting, I'd love a chance to catch up with Law personally, if he has a moment to spare?"

Law leaned his shoulder against Bepo, and glanced briefly at Doflamingo to gauge his expression. It was a gamble…Trebol could kill him in minutes if he decided that pissing Doffy off was worth the removal of a future issue.

But it was just as likely the man really did want to talk.

"...I mean, I've got a pretty open schedule right about now." 

Doffy seemed to be gauging the situation as well, but in the end he smiled. "Perfect! I think a little chat session is exactly what you two need. How about we leave you two with the last of the coffee, and I'll let everyone know there's going to be a meeting, and Bepo can catch up with Komurasaki."

Bepo looked at Law with big, dark, questioning eyes.

Law grabbed his first mate's arm with an affectionate half smile. "check on Komurasaki for me, alright pal? I'll be alright. It's been a while since Trebol and I had a chat." 

"It really has," Trebol drawled.

-

When Doflamingo left the room he paused, and brushed Law's hand with his own. Law felt something around his wrist, and Doffy murmured, "Tug, and I'll come running."

Without waiting for an answer he hurried Bepo out of the room, leaving Law and Trebol alone.

Law felt it lightly brush against his skin, a nearly imperceptible presence save for the way he could feel the thin line of pressure whenever he moved. It was strange….strange how reassuring it was.

When he was younger, there were a handful of times when he was put in difficult situations for the family…tagging along for a negotiation came to mind. In those times, Doffy had done the same thing . A thin, barely visible string that if he tugged it hard enough, Doflamingo would come running full of hell and vengeance.

A lifeline. As a child, it made him feel safe, protected. Now…it was still reassuring in its way, even if it felt odd in his conflicted heart.

He looked up at Trebol with a low sigh, settling down onto a chair again. "....so you wanted to catch up with me, huh? I'm a little surprised." 

Trebol poured himself a cup of coffee and took a long drink, remaining standing— looming— by the now mostly empty breakfast tray. "Now why would that surprise you, Law? Hey, is it because of the way things were the last time we saw each other? You know, we almost got sent to Impel Down!"

His tone was light. Conversational. Joking. His expression was anything but.

"I dunno. I was thinking maybe it was because I missed the family's last brunch invitation, but that works too." Law's own tone was hardly as faux-light as Trebol's…it was thick and heavy with his usual sarcastic mask. A way to put a barrier between him and the moment…and one he needed right now. "I heard. I also heard Viola helped sneak you out.

"Violet," he corrected. "And yes, bless her heart, eh? She came back for us after everything. As for brunch, Law, well, you know, you knew where to find us so we figured if you wanted brunch you'd show up. Broke Doffy's heart that you never did."

Trebol stared at him through his pince-nez like a pinned bug. He was trying to guilt him. Like when Law was ten and he wasn't paying attention in his lessons.

The same old tactic…the same old Trebol. Law's jaw set as he stared right back. 

"Violet. Right. I'm a little surprised but I won't say I'm not glad…in a way. Impel Down wouldn't have been good for any of you." He leaned heavily on the table "I know it broke his heart. Any idiot can see that. I'm not going to make excuses for…missing brunch…"

Trebol took another long sip of his coffee. "Well, thank the stars you're not going to make excuses at the very least."

He let it hang in the air.

He'd always been the best at guilting the family's younger generation. Once, Law had snapped at him that it must have been his 'only fucking job' to stand around and guilt trip them all.

Joke was on Trebol though. Law was already feeling guilty pangs that he wanted desperately to be rid of.

"Look, Trebol. I don't think you're going to believe me or care…" 

Trebol regarded him with intensity. "I'm sensing a 'but' coming. Well, go ahead."

"But," Law grumbled, "...I'm sorry. I'm sorry the only time I came to visit was when I was desperately trying to get revenge. I…I think Dressrosa had gotten way out of fucking control, but I'm sorry for the way it ended. I don't feel good about it, trust me." 

Trebol's thin eyebrows arched. 

"That almost sounds like a sincere apology. Not something that's ever been common out of your mouth." His tone was sharp, cutting even, but at the same time his expression softened from condescending sneer to scrutinizing interest. "You don't feel good about it? You won, after all that."

Law wrapped his arm around his knee, lifting it partially onto the chair and glaring down at the table.

"Sure. I won. And some good things came outta that. Straw Hat, I found my crew again on Zou— Komurasaki in Wano. But at the end of the day all I did was try and fail to kill someone I—" he hissed softly though his teeth, "---I was once close to…for someone else who he'd killed. And then I hear that might have all been based on a fucking lie."

"Color me curious, Law. Just what was the lie that might have launched a thousand ships, hm? Or one, in any case. One being enough." Trebol chuckled and sipped his coffee but he was watching Law closely. People often underestimated Trebol; because he was sickly, and prone to laughter, and because he gave off a general avuncular manner that could be mistaken for a slow wit. But it would be a bad mistake to make, and for many people, Law knew it had been the last one.

Law smiled grimly at him. "...you haven't heard it yet? Get ready, it's a fucking doozy. Especially when you're a half-dead child.  'Rosiante stole the devil fruit to save you, Law. Doflamingo only cares about himself, that's why he didn't find a cure himself! But Rosi saved you…but now Doflamingo's come to kill him for that!' Inspiring, ain't it?" 

Trebol stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I did hear it from Vergo this morning, but I wanted to hear it from you. 'Doflamingo only cares about himself'. Just like you were saying to me in Dressrosa. You know at the time, I thought you were just trying to be hurtful, and distracting."

Law kind of imagined why he wanted to hear it from him directly. Voice, inflection, expression…Trebol was a smart man who knew deceit. So he learned how to pick it out. He clearly was hoping for the chance to draw out if Law really meant it.

Tragically…he did. He already had a few instances already of Rosi's words not ringing true. 'I'm not a marine', Doflamingo is an emotionless monster'...both things easily and instantly disproven.

He laughed, low and humorlessly. He had been trying to distract— but at the time he'd meant it. He had to mean it. He'd come too far in the path of revenge to let his resolve waver right on the finish line.

"And I know they were hurtful and distracting. But that's what I'd known was true for over a decade, Trebol."

"Well, well. No wonder you were avoiding brunch then," he said, sipping his coffee, still watching him carefully. His expression had soften still a little further, but his voice was pointed when he continued. "Who wants to come visit a heartless man and his, what was it you called the rest of us? Idiots? Clowns?"

"I might have called you all a bunch of clowns. Clownish puppets, or something like that," Law grumbled. "I can be an asshole, Trebol." Law huffed, running his hand through his hair.

Especially when he was trying to fight his way through his own doubts. It was him, versus people he'd grown up with, loved…respected once. He had to put the barrier between them, rile them up and make it a fight he couldn't back away from.

"Who wants to visit a heartless man and his clownish puppets….heh." Law closed his eyes. "Who would wanna do a thing like that." 

"I wonder." Trebol picked up the coffee carafe, and poured what little was left of the steaming liquid into Law's cup, offering it toward him. "The family can be a bit clownish sometimes. And tempers run high every now and then. You can certainly be an asshole, hah, Law, but once upon a time you were an asshole in good company. Or so we thought."

Law looked into the dark coffee for a moment before he took it, holding it between his hands with a grimace. He couldn't help it…Trebol was good at what he did…when he was younger, these lectures would always wind up getting him to pay attention for at least a few days before he slacked off again.

"Before Rosi, I thought so too." Law murmured. "Even though I was ready to die, even though I knew I was gonna die, there was a time when I really considered the family to be the first home I'd had since Flevance. Heh…even if that made me one of the clowns."

He sipped the coffee, not breaking Trebol's eye contact. "But Rosi made me second guess that…and then he died, and I couldn't doubt myself for a second or I was just going to stop." 

Trebol was quiet for a moment, with obvious reflection and intent. His little glasses shone in the light of the cabin. 

"And I'm guessing that you were terrified what might happen if you stopped. If you let go for even a moment and thought about about everything that happened. And so you pushed, and pushed and pushed, hmm, hmm? Does that sound right?" He took a step forward and raised his chin. "If so, Punk Hazard must have been difficult for you. A test of your will."

Law knew the sudden shock of guilt and anger showed on his face. 

"...Punk Hazard was a test, alright. I almost failed it, too. I knew—I knew Monet was spying on me the whole time I was there. But when she saw me she really did seem…I dunno. Happy. We had fun with the splicing experiments and my power. I ..I dunno. I was enjoying spending time with her again , even while I was preparing to blow the place sky high."

Law's jaw tensed. "...and then things went to shit, real fast. Complication after complication. I swapped her and Smoker's hearts, banking on the man being such a sadist that anything he'd try would be slow enough for him to NOTICE she was reacting and not the fuckin' marine. Then the whole place blew, and I guess Caesar did something that…that killed her a lot faster. I guess that's what solidified it for me. Killing her, feeling guilty, I convinced myself that it was because Doffy had ordered her to die for him like Rosi always said he would to any of us." 

"Hey, Law, you know who order people to die for them all the time?" Trebol said. He finally sat himself down awkwardly in one of the chairs in the room. "The marines. So I guess it's no surprise where he'd have gotten an idea like that. Though I'm surprised he thought it was a bad thing. Hah."

The executive shook his head and continued. "You've never lacked for willpower, Law. Or determination. What you have always lacked is the thrice damned common sense that the sea gave a shrimp."

"And fuck you too, Trebol," Law ran his hand through his hair. "...lacking common sense. Sure. and that shrimp's Derringer, right? Only from what I've seen he's got bloodlust where his common sense should be." 

"Yes the two of you should get along famously if you can hold yourself back from blowing up the ship, or pitching yourself overboard, or trying to kill someone in their sleep so we have to pitch you over," Trebol grumbled, crossing his arms. "Look at me, Law. Listen to what I am about to say to you, yeah?"

Law looked at him, raising his coffee cup to his lips again with a sharp huff of breath, almost a laugh. "You make me sound like a maniac, but...I'm listening, Trebol. Just like old times, ok? I'm listening." 

"Just like old times," he agreed. "Law. Law, Doffy has been inconsolable about this whole thing. For years. He was inconsolable when you vanished. He's been inconsolable since you showed back up. I swear by all that is unholy, if you pull one more stupid fucking stunt and mess with his head, that is it. Do you understand me, Law? That's it. Now come here."

Law felt pinned for a moment. That sick feeling had come back to the pit of his stomach. Guilt, that's what it had to be. The churn of guilt and regret when he finally stopped running. Stopped moving forward. Just like he was afraid of on Punk Hazard. He'd started to slow by the time they hit Wano— he'd stopped completely when the ship went down with his precious friends inside.

It had caught up with him. Doflamingo. As much as he wanted to tell himself he was a heartless monster like Rosi said, it was obvious. Painfully, tragically obvious how much Law's disappearance, and the brutality of his reunion, had impacted the man for the worse. Trebol's guilt-sessions had struck home once again.

His eyes felt hot as he stood and walked over, his breath shaky. "I know, Trebol."

As Law approached Trebol pulled a small white cube from somewhere deep in his coat and held it in his palm. It started to melt, until all Trebol was holding was a small key.

Law stared at it for a moment, unblinking "I don't think I've got a stupid stunt in me anymore, anyway." 

"You had better fucking not, do we understand one another?" Trebol, treating him like the naughty child he always had, grabbed Law's cuffed wrist without waiting for an answer. He simply jammed the key in the little hole there, and twisted. The shackle fell to the floor with a leaden thump, and Law felt the strength that he'd almost forgotten that he was missing rush back to him.

"There," Trebol said, staring straight at him, wrist still grasped in his rather clammy hand. "Now, if we're going to try to kill one another, let's do it now for pity's sake, and not keep everyone waiting around wondering if you're going to explode. Well? Well? Are you going to try to kill me, Law?"

Law's wrist rested in the man's hand, free of the shackle— free of the damned ocean's grip. He was filled with more strength than he'd had in him for hours now…days, if you counted his coma.

Trebol was putting him through another test. Just like always. A test for the 'naughty child that was too reckless to be the Corazon' in Trebol's eyes now that he was free to do whatever he wished.

Law huffed softly, before a thin smile came to his face. "trying to test me or convince me, old man?"

His room formed with a blooming of his awareness of the surrounding area. There was a twist of space and time, and the coffee cup vanished from his hand to be replaced by Law's old fuzzy hat.

Reaching up, he dropped it on the old man's head. "I'd almost miss you. I'm gonna pass." 

Trebol blinked in surprise, and patted the top of his head, discovering what was resting on top of it.

And then he laughed. Not the sharp, mean little barks of laughter Law had heard a couple of times already, but the rather jolly, ridiculous laugh from Law's childhood.

Trebol shook his head. "Hey, hey, Law, you didn't completely waste the last 13 years of your life. You've gotten a little smarter. High marks."

"I may be a reckless asshole, Tre, but I am a doctor." Law smiled in rueful amusement. He wouldn't admit it out loud…but he did kind of miss the guy. Stupid laugh and all. "I'll take the high marks where I can get 'em, though. I never did win the gold stars in your class. Baby 5 kept stealing them. Literally."

"Turn her over and they might yet fall out of her apron," he chuckled, shaking his head again. He took the hat off– it was too small anyway– and offered it back to Law. "There are going to be a lot of eyes on you, Law, whatever you end up doing. You've impressed me for now, I hope you're not going to disappoint me in the end."

Law took the hat and dropped it back on his head. 

"I know. I know I ain't exactly the most popular guy on the ship right now. But…" He crossed his arms with a subtle smile. "I'm hoping I don't disappoint you, Trebol. Hell. Did you hear Doffy offered me that position again? Imagine if I took it? It'd be your worst nightmare. You'd finally have to deal with the 'reckless idiot' who slept through your classes on the Corazon's throne." 

Trebol crossed his arms again, but now he was smiling. "I didn't need to hear anything to know that was Doffy's intention from the moment he dragged your limp body out of the ocean where all good sense said to leave you, Law. And in case you haven't noticed, we're a bit short on thrones at the moment, no thanks to someone."

The executive paused, just long enough for his broad smile to widen even further. "But hey, that's going to change in the future."

"Use it as an excuse for better thrones, then." Law's own smile sliced a little wider. "Call it an incentive. Lighting a fire under everyone's ass."

He chuckled darkly, feeling far, far more comfortable now that the shape of the room felt so…known. "so it's going to change, is it?"

"The Donquixote family always comes back stronger from hardships, Law. And it's been a hell of a hardship. For you too, eh?"

There Trebol went, implicitly including him in the family. Including Law's tragedy in their own.

Law felt a slight flush…not of anger, but something warmer. "Yeah. It's been a hell of a hardship…tragedies that with hindsight, maybe we coulda avoided."

He looked at Trebol, his dark eyes tired but his smile genuine. "...but what was it, Doffy always used to say? Nothing's impossible for him and his family. We're all gonna come out of this better. Somehow." 

"That's right, Law. We are." Trebol chuckled and reached out his arm. "Now, help me up. Let's not let Doffy spend too much time wondering which of us killed the other, eh?"

Law snorted , grabbing his arm and helping the man up. "For all I know he's leaned against the outside of the door, anxiously waiting to hear the first scream."

We are. Part of him still twisted uncomfortably, as if it was somehow some kind of awful betrayal to allow himself to sympathize…laugh with…be included among the people he'd spent 13 years trying to destroy.

Another part of him felt warm…comfortable…the more he slipped back into the Donquixote family's chaotic, clownish, ridiculous pace.

"Let's go give him a surprise." 

[scorpiongrassfield]

Pat is Standing Behind You 

Start | Prev 

Pat puts their left arm around your shoulder and their right around Theo’s and sort of pushes themself between the two of you. It’s not quite a hug, but it’s an approximation. 

“I think I’ll give you,” Pat says, tilting their head in Theo’s direction, “A break. I mean, you were actually trying to respect my wishes up to the last time we had spoken. Things just got way out of hand.” They say it like they alone can pardon Theo for whatever wrongdoing he might commit. 

It’s a little hard to see Theo with Pat between you like this, and he doesn’t answer out loud, leaving you in the dark. 

Pat looks… different. 

Their hair is shorter, cut in a different style. The color has changed, too, a darker pink now. 

And they look a little older, a little more tired. The grooves of their face seem just a bit deeper.

Pat stops hanging off of the two of you and ruffles Theo’s hair. You take a step back and face the two of them. 

“I’ll give you an A for effort, really. That was a better and more cohesive plan that I’d be able to form and stick to while on fire,” Pat says, and when Theo looks away, like he’s ashamed, they shake their head.  “No, seriously, I’m not mad at you. It was better thinking than anyone else was doing at the time. You got a little lost  part way through. That’s okay. You were up against Ametrine. I always though the two of you would mix like kerosene and more already on fire kerosene, you know?” 

Theo shakes his head. 

“Hm… Well we’re not going to be able to unpack this all right now, we’ve still got things to do. But keep in mind that even though I’m mad, I’m not mad at you. That’s all,” Pat says with a decisive nod. 

Then they turn around to look at you. 

“So, kid. What’s your name?” 

That catches you off guard. 

You look around. There’s no one else there, obviously. “Me?” you ask anyway. 

Pat chuckles. “No, the other kid here whose name I don’t know,” they say, with a little bite of sarcasm. It doesn’t sound mean or angry, just amused. “Sylv,” you say. That’s the one you picked and you’re sticking with it. 

Pat raises their eyebrows, a mimicry of disbelief. “Sylv?” they confirm. “Not Myosotis the memory parasite ghost?” 

One of those words makes you flinch, and for once it’s not the word ghost. 

You look to Theo for help. He shakes his head. 

You shake your head. 

Pat nudges Theo with their elbow. “Hey, I’m not grilling you, I’m grilling him,” they complain. 

“We’re friends now. Organically, even. His powers don’t work on me,” Theo says with a shrug. 

“Oh, so you’re capable of playing nice,” Pat says, like you’re the one that explained and not Theo. 

“I… I don’t want to hurt anyone,” you say. It’s only a little bit of a lie. 

You can’t claim you didn’t just want to hurt Ametrine. The evidence of that is still lying on the ground behind you. 

“No?” 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you emphasize. That’s very true. You like Pat. 

“So let me get this straight,” Pat says, putting a hand to one hip. “You mind whammied me into thinking we’ve been friends and roomates for more than half a decade, inserting yourself into my life so close that I would never think to question your actions, ultimately causing a situation in which my former best friend has to try and kill me and my current best friend has to do the closest thing that an angel can d-”

“I’m not an angel,” Theo interrupts. 

Pat makes a funny face, lips pursed, eyes wide as they twist their head to look at him like “are you seriously arguing about this now?” before shaking their head and waving him off. 

“Right, causing my best friend to do the closest thing a guardian can do to dying and going to hell, not to mention all of the other shit that we both know ‘Myosotis’ has done to other people that’s worse, and you want me to believe you don’t want to hurt anyone. Just because you say so,” Pat says, giving you a flat look. 

You look to Theo again, and he nods. Pat rolls their eyes and steps in between the two of you, blocking Theo’s face from view. “Nope, this one’s between me and you, kid. Teddy’s on time out now.” 

“Ah,” Theo seems surprised, but ultimately says nothing more than that surprised vocalization. 

“Well?” Pat says, drawing your attention back to them. “Should I believe you or not? I want an answer.” 

Next

[theboysfromaustin]

The one where Gav's an urban legend

---

February 12, 2013

Kazuo spun in his chair, laptop precariously balanced on his lap.  Ian glanced over, "If you drop that again, I'm going to get you one of those cases like they put on toddler tablets." "I'm careful.  My balance is impeccable." "You fell down the stairs yesterday," Gav didn't even look up from his computer.  "Those stairs are a death trap."

Ian looked at the clock, "Another half hour and we can get lunch." "Sounds good." Kazuo spun in his chair again, before kicking his feet up on his desk.  He was busy scrolling through Reddit, flitting from one subreddit to the next.  Somehow, he wound up on r/Detroit, and immediately took notice of one thread -

What's the weirdest thing you've seen at night?

Kazuo looked at Gav, remembering every weird street story he'd been told.  He started scrolling, the usual nonsense popping up - haunted places, I saw Bigfoot at Burger King, the norm.  And then….

-

Okay, so when I was a teen, me and my shithead friends would go joyriding in abandoned neighborhoods, blasting music and being assholes, throwing beer bottles and smoking pot.  It was a Friday or Saturday, maybe 1 AM.  We liked to turn off our headlights to make it creepy, and I know, stupid but we were teens.  I don't remember what street it was, but the houses were all burned out, when something ran in front of our car.  My girlfriend screamed, and I turned the lights on.  There was this ginger kid, beaten up and filthy, flinching away.  He looked scared and half crazy, and then I swear to God, he took off running, climbed the side of a house like Spider-man and disappeared.  We still don't know what the fuck he was.

-

Oh thank god I'm not the only one who saw that guy.  He was fast and nimble.  Like a spider.  Never said a thing.  Saw him in a ton of places, usually after dark while joyriding.  Had a wide range and often had a pack of dogs that were NOT friendly.  There was a big Saint Bernard type that tore the bumper off my buddy's car.  It was held on with duct tape, but it's the principle.  Fuckin' Cujo.

-

I see you met the Detroit Dogman.  Tiny ginger dude.  I saw him with a pack of dogs around the old Packard plant.  He stood there and his dogs chased my friends and I out.  He was afraid of us.  I wonder what his story is, but I haven't seen him in years now, hope he got off the street.

-

Little man, long red hair?  I saw that dude stealing beef jerky and roller grill crap from a 7-Eleven.  I didn't say a word, he looked malnourished.  He left and a pack of dogs materialized out of the alley.  Weird.

-

I saw him from a distance, carrying a shovel and a bloody bundle.  I followed a bit behind, just in case he was a serial killer, and he buried it in an empty lot.  I checked it out after he left and found a huge pet cemetery,  markers with names and breeds.  It spanned a few blocks.  I don't think he's a bad guy, just prefers the company of dogs. Maybe he's a runaway, he looked young.

-

I saw him hauling a big bag of dog food. He was having trouble, but he started running when he saw me following him.  His feet and legs were all cut up.  He was FAST though.

-

man i saw this lil fucker swimming with a lot of dogs in the detroit river in fuckin november and he had a fish in his mouth like a big ol wiggly fish what the fuckkkkk

-

I saw him multiple times.  He was kind of cute in a filthy, matted way.  I wanted to ask about his dogs.  He made the city interesting.  I got close once, and he smelled like dirty Vienna sausages.  He noticed and flinched real hard, like he expected me to attack him.  Hope he's doing better now, miss seeing him around.

-

My friends and I were drinking in an abandoned K Mart at night when we heard a weird noise.  This weird little dude was on the roof, howling at the moon.  I threw a Molson bottle and he jumped off the roof and took off running.  What the hell.

-

Kazuo started giggling like a complete idiot.  These were all about Gav.  Gav, who was quietly typing at his computer and listening to music.  There were more stories.  One reply was just a low resolution photo of Gav and his pack squaring off with raccoons in a Big Boy parking lot.  Ian turned slightly, "What are you chuckling about, you degenerate?"  Kazuo wheeled himself over, handing off his laptop, "Here.  Behold."

Ian started reading, "Oh.  Oh my.  Um, Gav?" The redhead looked up, "Yeah?" "We have some things you need to read."  Gav rolled over, squeezing in to look at the screen, "What's so…oh.  This is…about….me?" "You're an urban legend." "Huh.  I mean, I know I probably scared a lot of people at night…and urban explorers…but…wow."

"You are a celebrity," Ian shrugged, "Are there more?" "It's a big thread, so maybe." "This is weird." "You okay?" "Well, the attention from strangers is a bit off putting, but that might be the autism." "The raccoon photo is impressive," Ian studied it.  "Yeah, we had to fight for the dumpsters.  You're not grossed out by me having eaten from dumpsters, are you?"

"We figured you had to do what you needed to survive." "And I've seen Ian drop a gyro in the actual road on Sixth, pick it up, dust it off, and eat it." Gav relaxed, "It was gross, but it helped me feed the group.  I could open dumpsters, and they couldn't." "So, are you going to post?  You can use my account."  Gav thought for a moment, "I think…maybe I should.  I know it'll kill a lot of the mystique, but there are people that want to know if I'm okay." "Hang on," Ian took a photo of Gav in front of the computer, "Sending this to your email, Kaz." 

Kazuo downloaded it, "Add that to your post."  Gav nodded, starting to type.

So, one of my boyfriends found this thread.  (This is his account) I am the Detroit Dogman, and I am safe in Texas after leaving Detroit in 2007.  I had a really bad home life - I'm gay, and was the unwanted twin, and left at 16 in 2005, though I'd been wandering with my pack since late 2002, when I'd found them while wandering during a night I'd run away from home.  We did live in the old Packard plant, though I'd take a few days to get food or try to replace clothes and blankets.  I stole a lot, and I'm not proud of it, but I'd also panhandle, scared as I was of people, to get dog food.

We did fish the Detroit river, and it was the only fresh meat I had while on the street.  I wouldn't call fast food dumpster diving 'fresh'.  Life was rough, but at least I could provide entertaining stories and some scares.

As I said, I'm safe in Texas.  Austin.  I have two wonderful boyfriends who pulled me off the street, and gave me a home and a job - I'm a paralegal now, my one partner is a lawyer, and I'm happy and healthy now.  I'm attaching a photo of me in front of this thread.  I look forward to more stories.  I had to leave my dogs behind because there was no safe way for us to all travel together.  I miss them, and I hope they're okay.  My name is Gav, by the way, to put a name to the dirty, bedraggled face.

Signed, the Detroit Dogman

Gav sat back for a moment, before hitting 'post'.  "You alright?" Ian cocked his head.  "Yeah," Gav said, "It's like I have closure. But I still get to be an urban legend.  I'm okay with that." Kazuo draped himself around Gav's shoulders, "You ready for lunch, Dogman?" "Yeah.  I think we need chili." "Good choice," Ian stood, stretching, "You've earned it."  Gav replaced Kazuo's laptop, "Hard to believe I'm a celebrity." "We'll have to look for more stories," Kazuo grinned.  "I want to compile them," Gav pulled on his coat, "Maybe write some sort of memoir -

The Dogman Chronicles."

[futzilee]

Guys you'll never believe it I'm indulging in fanfiction culture (it's Chevron and Error time)

Who tf is Chevron? Maybe I'll post ab him once I uh. Learn how to draw 💀

Anyway

“Why do you ALWAYS show up whenever I'm trying to do something?” Chevron snarled as Error, as always, conveniently arrived after Chevron went to great lengths to get rid of Frisk. Error simply closed the portal he came through as Chevron snapped, “Don't you have the ability to destroy an AU without needing me to do the hard part? Oh wait, you can't. ”

Error approached Chevron, his yellow teeth in a wide smile. “You just make my life so much easier… it’s motivating to get to work when the work’s already halfway done, dontcha think?”

The human grasped onto the lingering soul and backed away. Error wouldn’t be destroying the soul this time. This time, Chevron was going to win, and figure out how to get the determination from the soul and put it into his own… somehow. He had practiced since the last time this happened… which was a staggering 3 days ago.

Error shrugged, scraped some monster dust off his teeth, and flicked it back into the dusty atmosphere. Chevron’s chest tightened. “You know, it sure would make my job a lot easier if you just handed the soul over this time. I’m still recovering from the last time you ‘fought’ me.” Error snickered and resumed closing the gap between himself and Chevron.

Chevron wanted to say something but felt Undyne pushing her way to the surface of his soul, leaving him completely unable to act for himself.

“You wanna say that again, PUNK?” Chevron challenged, the cadence of his voice changing slightly to better match that of the Royal Guard’s. He stomped his foot into the ground and grilled it in, leaning forward with his fists pulled up. “I’ll take you out in a fight ANY DAY OF THE WEEK! You’re nothing but a weak-headed, stupid-sighted bully and I, Undyne-Chevron, will strike you down!!”

Error simply waved away the absurdity. “Call me whatever you want. You’re just a freak anomaly that shouldn’t exist. I’ll actually get rid of you this time.”

Chevron huffed out a misshapen spear and clutched it in his hand, summoning more pathetic, crooked spears (half of them resembled unbaked cookie dough) and aimed them all at Error. “Aim” might be too strong a word. It was more like… they flew out in all directions and maybe one or two sort of flew towards Error. The skeleton didn’t even need to move to dodge the attack.

“Nyagh… what the hell?? Why isn’t it working?” Chevron tried summoning another magic attack, sweat quickly forming a puddle on his forehead. Error summoned his magic attack, a gaster blaster, and blasted Chevron.

Chevron forced his way back to the top of his soul, kicking Undyne out of the driver's seat. Though he hated it, Chevron knew this song and dance from way before he met Error. He healed himself with some spider cider he had snagged on his way through the Ruins and cast the magic attack he practiced: a swarm of magic insects.

Error desperately swatted at the bugs while Chevron took a much-needed breath from his inhaler. His attack didn't last long, dispersing mere seconds after swamping Error. The human grabbed at the soul again, Error having the same idea (only his idea of “grabbing” was using magic blue strings).

The skeleton yanked the soul toward him, forcing Chevron to trip and rip a hole in the knee of his black leggings. Error tugged again to get the soul loose from Chevron but he clutched onto it with vigor. Using his free hand, Chevron produced a shovel from his infinitely resourceful sleeve and batted at Error.

The glitchy skeleton threw his arm to the opposite side, slamming both Chevron and the soul into a cavern wall. The shovel went flying into a little pool of water. A cough forced itself out of Chevron's chest, staining the ground in front of him with a splatter of blood. He regained his balance enough to grab onto Error’s strings, going full feral mode and biting at them to try to cut them loose from the precious heart-shaped container of pure determination.

Error’s entire body spazzed out and his already poor eyesight worsened with the addition of a thousand “ERROR” messages. Chevron grabbed onto the strings and forced them off the soul, took another breath from his inhaler, and sent a much smaller wave of insects toward the other.

“UGH… This is so ANNOYING,” Error bemoaned. He took a step back, summoned a dozen more gaster blasters, and fired them willy-nilly. Chevron carefully danced around the Ruins to avoid getting hit and his soul stirred as such a beautiful place was set ablaze. Toriel couldn't stand to watch it, either. She forced herself to the forefront, just as Undyne had.

Wordlessly, effortlessly, Chevron summoned a fire attack and fired it at Error, who finally lost balance and fell into the water. He glitched tf out and fought to get out of the water but found himself slipping. Toriel retreated and allowed Chevron control over his own body once more. Chevron inched towards Error and looked down at him trying to make out what was happening.

“I'll just be taking this. Maybe someone will come and save you. Consider this,” he took another breath, “one victory for me.”

Chevron swung himself around when several red, glitched-out bones flew from Error and impaled Chevron's chest. They ruined the froggit hoodie, too. The human collapsed and coughed out more droplets of blood, clinging to the ground as if it were his lifeline. The ruined world around him blurred and in the corner of his eye, he saw two unfamiliar humans, a man and a woman, hovering over him.

Stay determined.

To ruin the mood, a dark puddle of ink formed just a few feet away from Chevron's dying body. Another skeleton-this one covered in epic paint-splatter tattoos-sprung out. He observed the damage and pulled out his paintbrush to fix the Ruins before returning to Mr. Spazz and Future Tweenage Corpse. He acknowledged the dust and the Frisk corpse and rubbed his eye sockets.

“Dream, I need you in here real fast,” Ink said to the static atmosphere, summoning another skeleton. This one had the coolest outfit of them all—a golden cape-dress-thing, a sleeveless top with bicep-length gloves, a bow (for shooting), and a crown. He was also the guardian of all positive feelings.

“Yeah, Ink?” Dream collected himself and observed his surroundings. “Ah, oh.” He looked down at Chevron. “There's so many feelings coming from them.”

“Cthulu?” Ink questioned.

“Stripe,” Error corrected, still spazzing out in the pool.

Ink was already spaced out from the conversation.

“No… his name was… um…” Dream pressed a thumb to his chin. “Shelly… no…. Shantel…tron? Anyways… it seems so crowded in there… how can so many emotions fit inside such a tiny person…?”

“Uh, yeah, that's cool,” Ink interjected, “but ever since Champaign showed up, they've been having these massive fights with Error and honestly I'd rather hang out in the AUs than protect them all the time, you get what I'm saying?” Ink's left eye looked like it was having a seizure as he tried to wink at Dream.

“You should want to protect the AUs, Ink, but… having Tron around makes it hard for me to find certain people. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” Dream glanced at Ink, whose face was still seizing. “Oh, okay. I get the kid and you get Error?”

“Yes-siree!” Ink stopped making his face wig out and body-slammed Error out of the water, allowing him to finally stop glitching out. (”Dont TOUCH ME—!!¡¡!”) Dream carefully unskewered Chevron and helped him stand up. After a few pats on the back and some bs Dream magic, Chevron was back to normal. Health-wise. His hoodie and leggings were still ruined.

“What? There's even more Sanses?” Chevron mumbled.

Ink chimed, “Yup-! I'm Ink, this is Dream, and we're sending you on a deluxe vacation!”

Before Chevron could even think to respond, Dream and Ink shoved Chevron and Error through a portal where they landed smack-dab in the middle of an empty, foggy, miserably flat field.