#give him a last name for Pete’s sake!!

[kissandships]

Jay and Nate together are so annoying. Like I cannot stand them. I had to skip the workout montage because it was just so annoying and cringe.

Separately, they’re alright. Both a little annoying, but tolerable. But together, they’re unbearable

[ammoniteblue]

college rival! kenji sato who’s trying to break the stereotype that student athletes can’t be smart. his dad is a genius for fucks sake. so he takes the hardest classes. computer science. applied physics. chemistry. its hard. super hard and most days he falls asleep after practice still sticky and sweaty, with a book on his face. but he does it. and slowly people begin to recognise the freshman who waltzes into the library’s bio-chem section with a baseball mitt and jersey. it’s how you begin to notice him anyways. and then you realise the new starter for the college baseball team might actually give you some trouble.

college rival! kenji sato who starts to put his hand up to answer questions. at first it was just one or two, but soon he’s sticking his hand up for every. single. one. questions you would usually answer. he’s almost never wrong but when he is you make sure to be the one to correct him. it quickly becomes a competition. in lectures. in classes. the other students start to notice, and word of the budding rivalry between the quiet scholarship student and freshman star of the baseball team spreads.

college rival! kenji sato who refuses to leave the library till you do. he’ll sit at a table, books spread out, laptop open, taking notes and making flash cards, until his vision blurs and his fingers cramp. but he won’t be the first to go. absolutely not. it won’t be till the last person has left that the librarian will scuttle round to tell you both to get lost. as you both leave you make a point to ignore each other, but he can feel you shooting daggers at his back.

college rival! kenji sato who nearly crushes his water bottle when he reads your article in the school newspaper. he’s surprised to see you write for the sports column and even more surprised to see you’ve named him. till he reads the flurry of insults and unflattering idioms. “more ego than man”, “bad team player”, “distracted”. of course he’s distracted ! you’ve been on his mind for weeks. constantly making jabs at him in class, sprinting to answer your professors questions first in lectures. he’s not been able to eat, to sleep, not without thinking about your stupid fucking smirk as you try to remind him that he, a college athlete, belongs at the bottom of the academia totem pole.

college rival! kenji sato who tries to ignore you when you turn up at one of his games. he doesn’t understand why you’re there, till he sees your friends join you. It’s weird he thinks, when you’re with them laughing and smiling you don’t actually look that bad. but then your eyes find his and that laughter, that warmth, is gone and kenji remembers that nope you are an insufferable bitch.

college rival! kenji sato who finds himself at the same stupid house party as you. he’s with a few of his teammates, it’s after the game. they won. they’re celebrating. most of them are red-faced, drooling drunk. he’s nursing a beer, can in hand, when he spots you from across the room. you’re leaning against the wall in what looks like a casual manner, till kenji takes a closer look. then he sees the guy, some dude from you shared AP physics class. Paul or Pete ?? Kenji doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. not when he sees the guy lean down to kiss you, just for you to try and push him away. He’s by your side before he has time to register what he’s doing.

college rival! kenji sato who not only knocks a guy out for his class rival, but bails on a night out. he offers to take you home and doesn’t say a word when he gives you his letterman jacket, after noticing you shivering. it’s warm and smells of polish and freshly cut grass. neither of you say a word, which is what makes it even more bizarre when you lean up to kiss him. you’re nowhere near your dorm, outside some random humanities building, but you can’t help it. for weeks you’ve been puzzling over why he bugs you so much, why his constant presence in classes and lectures, in your favourite study spots, sends your heart into a flurry. sometimes anger and attraction can feel very similar.

college rival! kenji sato who finds himself in your dorm room, your roommate nowhere to be found. He lets you push him back onto the bed, lets you be the one to tug his shirt off. it’s been weeks of constant battling for control and yet here he is giving up so easily. Kenji gives you the victory you’ve been looking for just to see the smile on your face.

college athlete kenji = late night brainrot. if you enjoyed lemme know if i should do a part 2. Next part of Not a hero, Just an Author will be up soon <333

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: In 30 minutes or less!

Danny is a delivery man.

He got the job after realizing his resume was severely lacking in terms of working experience.

Also when he needed more money for his own purchases. There is a big difference between begging his parents for an allowance and earning his own spending funds.

The thing is, no matter where Danny applied, he was not getting a call back. Jazz warned him that a majority of Amity Park didn't hire them - as she also attempted to get a part-time job when she was his age - because of the Fenton last name.

She swore and hissed, but she couldn't prove that it was the reason they weren't hired. She just heard the talk around the town. They all said they wouldn't want to hire from the lunatic family.

That whenever a Fenton went , something bad quickly followed.

It stung, that not even Nasty Burger wanted him. That placed hired people under sixteen for Pete's sake. But Danny was resourceful. If Amity Park hadn't hired him, then he would just try the other place he had civilianship in.

The Infinite Realms.

Danny figured that if societies existed with the Realms, then they had to have a form of currency. He just needed to find one that used the same one as his world did.

FrostBite was more than happy to point him in the right direction. Since his people were the ones to spend generations attempting to map out the Realms, he had found a part of the ghost zone that Danny could blend into easily.

It was only a thirty minute commute from Danny's family portal. He could easily make that after school.

Thus, Danny flew to the portal location FrostBite told him about and ended up in a place called Central City. He found employment very quickly at Joel's Pizza, and for sixteen dollars a hour he was racing across the city to give some sizzling pizza pies.

. He was given a company scooter, but Danny preferred to fly. No one saw him as he never turned off his invisibly until he arrived at the destination. He got great tips for his speed, and his boss was fun to work for.

His parents are proud that he has a job and is not causing trouble. His friends also have their own jobs so Sam and Tucker have to plan their meet ups now- buts that's just a part of growing up.

The only thing that made his part-time difficult was the ghosts. Not all of them bothered him now a days but a few still did.

Like Young Blood. The brat didn't seem to care that Danny was going to be late to a shift since he had no concept of the importance of adult responsibilities. He was able to text his boss an apology using school as an excuse, but he was still thirty minutes late and sporting a black eye.

Joel stared at him for a long moment, muttered something in Spanish, before handing him five pizza boxes, and told him to take it to the central city police department. Danny was supirse he didn't even lecture him.

When he got to the station, the person in front told him to wait a moment since it was the forensic department that ordered food. He waited a few minutes until a blond man came down the hall, with a cheerful smile.

That smile fell when Danny turned to look at him. There was a brief flash of something dark that crossed his expression before the smile was back ten fold

"Hello," Danny said, standing up. "Order for Barry?

"That's me!" The man grins, holding out a wad of cash "Keep the change."

Wow. A fifty dollar tip!

"Sure thanks!"

"Welcome kid!"

Danny practically skipped away, Barry Watching him climb onto his scooter and slowly blending back into the traffic.

He turned to look at Officer Dawn "Is it just me or was that kid covered in bruises?"

Officer Dawn's mustache twitches with displeasure. "He definitely was. Looked fresh, too. Not only that but he works for Joel Pizza"

"This Joel a trouble maker?"

"The opposite, he was a foster kid. Once he aged out and got his own business, he started hiring teenagers in similar situations. Usually, his staff are all kids who are having a rough time. If things are too bad, he makes reports, but we try to avoid it. Don't want to lose one of the few trustworthy safe spaces for those kids." Officer Dawn's hesitates for a second before he carefully asks."A cop poking around may spook them, but a forensic chemist won't. Do you mind finding out what the delivery kid's deal is for me?"

"I look into it." Barry promises already knowing the Flash is also going to be following the boy just to make sure he safe.

He hates it when kids get hurt. Remind him too much of Wally.

[skyforlays]

Hot for a Teacher

Sub Ðilf Toji X Dom Black Coded Tall curvy Teacher Reader

Cw: Handjob, ,whimpering,Toji being a filthy slut, titty sucking a tad of feminization if u squint 😋

(My breedable bbg anyways)

wc:1,088

18 + MINORS DNI!!

Toji was a needy man. He was a single dad raising a child, and for Pete's sake, he needed something like a woman. He couldn't recall the last time he was put in his place, wanting to be on the receiving end for so long. After his ex-wife left him with a child, this is all he had: Megumi and work. He was a pretty boring man, he'll admit that, but to his surprise, he received a call from his son's teacher.

Mr Fushiguro I’d like you to come in for a parent-teacher conference to speak with you, you said in a calm tone.

"Yes, of course, I'll be right there. Toji gets in his car and begins to drive to the school. He enters the school as he ponders why his son's teacher is asking to meet. He walks to the front desk. "Hi, I'm Toji Fushiguro. I'm looking for my son's teacher.

"What's your son's name, sir?"

Megumi Fushiguro Oh, alright, follow me, sir. Toji followed the lady to your classroom, and he couldn't believe what his eyes laid upon. Tall, around 5'9 in height, curvy in all the right places, he felt as though he could stare at you for hours.

"You must be Megumi's dad. You go and extend your hands to shake it. Mr. Fushiguro, you ask politely, Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I apologize, he says in a nervous tone as he awkwardly shakes your hand.

“Um, can I ask why you wanted to see me?".

"Well, sir, I just wanted to congratulate you. congratulate me why?

"Your son is highly advanced. He is only in second grade, but it seems like he doesn't even need it; he's very intelligent."

"Oh, thank you. I just try my best to read to him and practice his skills. He says to her, Is that all you called me here for?"

"Yes, sir, I just wanted to give you a heads up on how your child was doing. I thought you would be interested in the process of your son skipping a grade. He is very advanced beyond this class, and I want all my students to be challenged."

"Will you still be his teacher?"

"Yes, Mr. Fushiguro. I would still be your son's teacher. Alright, then I am perfectly okay with my son skipping a grade. When would this take effect?"

"Immediately, he would be in a new third grade around next week once I informed my principal and made sure he was all caught up with the new changes."

Alright, thank you for meeting me here today. You must be extremely proud of your son.

"Yes, yes, I am.".

I hate for you to leave empty-handed, you say as you look at him cunnigly. Would you like to stay for a cup of coffee? I understand if you're too busy or if you probably have a wife at home. You say you're hoping to find out if he's single or not.

No, no wife, just me and Megumi; she left me.

Oh, I'm sorry if that was personal. 

No, no, it's okay. I don't mind at all.

Are you married by any chance to any wife or husband at home?

No, I am single and nothing with nobody for a long time.

Ah, perfect—not perfect. It's just good to work on yourself and weed out what you like and don't like.

I would love to stay for a cup of coffee, if you don't mind. Plus, Megumis is at home with the babysitter anyway, so he's alright.

perfect. The evening felt magical. You and Toji talked for what felt like hours, talking about your favorite movies and shows. It felt like you, too, were really connecting.

After laughing at the millionth joke, tonight you decide you should wrap this up.

It was lovely talking with you, Mr. Fushiguro. 

Toji, please call me Toji. 

It was lovely talking with you, Toji, but we should go.

agreed.

You both felt the sexual tension as you both didn't want to say goodbye and end the night just yet. 

I know we just met, but I know you can feel that spark between us. He says getting closer to you would be so wrong if I wanted to kiss you right here and right now.

You bit your lip in anticipation, no, because I'm feeling it too.

You passionately kiss him as Toji lowly moans in your mouth. As the kissing gets more aggressive, you push Toji down on your desk and start kissing his neck. 

His back starts to arch as he moans lowly as you lick and suck his milky neck, leaving red marks all over him. 

"Please mistress more, he says, so out of it, after being touched for the first time in two years, Toji was enjoying his time being pampered.”

"What do you want Mistress to do, baby? you whisper as you nibble his ear.”

“anything he says, whimpering” 

You immediately unbuckle his pants as you start to slowly stroke his cock.

“You’re  so big, baby, you whisper in his ear.’’

You continue your slow strokes as Toji begins to suck on your tits in pleasure. You lowly moan, trying not to make too much noise.

You pick up the pace as you squeeze Tojis big tits as he sucks on yours. 

“m-mistress, please, I want to cum. Please let me cum.”

“You want to cum You want to be a good girl and cum for your mistress?”

“Yes, mistress, I want to be a good girl for you. Please let me come, he says as his voice begins to crack and slow whimpers begin to escape his gorgeous mouth”.

Then do it cum for me cum for mistress.

He cums in a silent scream as he tries to regain his breath after one of the best orgasms he ever had.

You kiss him lovingly as Toji wraps his hands around your neck, wanting to pull you in closer. 

That was one of the best orgasms I ever had.

Well, baby, you better get used to a lot of orgasms like that because you belong to me now, you whisper in his ear.

You take his phone and put in your number. Get home safe, Mr.Fushiguro. You say you are fixing yourself as you leave your classroom.

Toji gets a message from his phone. 

unknown:Clean my desk for me, baby, you made quite a mess.

Toji looks at the mess he made. Fuck, he's never letting you go now.

[mitchellpete]

Kinktober Day 12 - Voyeurism

pairing: tom “iceman” kazansky x f!reader (x pete “maverick” mitchell)

cw: penetrative sex, voyeurism, could count as cucking?, brief icemav implications but if you squint you can ignore it

word count: 1386

kinktober masterlist here.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

-

Maverick immediately knows what’s going on the moment he steps through the door, the noises loud and clear. His brows immediately knit together in confusion, in surprise, at the absurdity of the situation. The front door to your house had been unlocked, for starters, and you’re somewhere inside, and he can hear you moaning and what sounds like shit being knocked around. 

A scowl meets Maverick’s knitted brows as he shuts the door and immediately makes his way down the hallway. 

He doesn’t know what he’s doing; he’s certainly not gonna barge in and ruin your fun but Christ, is there any indication on who you’re with right now? He needs to know. And maybe he suddenly regrets everything you promised one another—that you wouldn’t catch feelings, that this fling wouldn’t last past his time at Top Gun—but maybe he actually did like you, and you just ruined it all the moment his hand turned the knob to your door. 

Maverick gets closer to the noises, a mixture of panic and intrigue seeping through him when he realizes the door is cracked open. Just enough that when he reaches the frame, he sees you. 

You’re laying on your side, a big body behind you, long strong legs and a sharp snap of hips meeting yours. An arm around your torso. A hand propping your leg up for easier thrusts, a blue Academy ring tauntingly sparkling at him.

And then his eyes catch the head of spiky blonde.

For fuck’s sake. 

For a moment, Maverick is almost blinded with anger. His heart stoops down to his feet and all he can think of is betrayal. How sick you are for doing this to him. 

You’d been fucking each other for weeks. Had made a comfortable situation out of it, and came to terms with the fact that it probably wouldn't last. But Maverick was sort of on top of the world right now, getting to fly with his best friend, competing for the Top Gun trophy, being the best possible pilot he could be up there. Taking his chance to prove himself once and for all. And Maverick is always all or nothing, and if he knew that this would backfire on him, then he’d shoved it to the deepest corner in the back of his mind and chose to go through with it anyway just for the fun of it. And now he’s paying the price, and the promises he made you don’t mean anything anymore. How could you? Yeah, yeah, you’re not together, you’re not in love, you’re certainly not chained to one another, but why? 

Iceman of all people.

That’s gotta be a personal fucking vendetta you’ve got against him. 

God, and he really did like you..? By the way..? No matter how many times he told himself he didn’t..? Fuck that. He does. He did. He decided the moment he stepped inside your house. And now all of it is fucking soiled. 

He considers running out, slamming the front door for effect and mounting his Kawasaki and taking a long drive out of here. Giving you the silent treatment the next time he sees you. Maybe finally punching Iceman in the fucking face the second he hears that irritating voice sound out his name in the locker room, just before going on a tangent about aircraft safety and some other bullshit Maverick never pays attention to. 

But he does not move.

And he realizes a little too late how entranced he is at the sight in front of him.

Maverick’s eyes roam, but they settle right at the junction between your legs. His lips part at the sight of Ice’s cock ramming into you. You’re so wet, he can see it pooling with every slippery thrust. The sound of skin on skin brings a heat to Maverick’s cheeks, his own cock twitching in his pants. 

Your moans are loud and repetitive, cries of pleasure he’s heard many times before.

Iceman’s pace is relentless, quick and hard and perfect. Even in the shadows, Maverick is slightly intimidated. 

Maverick doesn’t avert his eyes, lets out a stifled groan at the feel of his hardening cock in his tight jeans. It all worsens when he hears Ice moan, the sound prettier than he’d like to admit. It stirs the desire in him, flushes his entire body in heat. What he would do to be in Ice’s position right now, fucking into you like his life depended on it, sliding in and out of that tight, wet heat over and over. He knows how good you look; he can imagine how good Ice feels fucking into you like this. 

As if on cue, “You like to watch, Mitchell?” that familiar voice sneers at Maverick from behind you. 

Maverick flinches, unintentionally takes a step back, but it’s no use. Ice is hovering over the side of your body, angling his hips to find a better spot. He’s got a shit eating smile on his face, staring right at Maverick, and it’s then that Maverick realizes. 

It wasn’t you. None of this was you. Did… did Iceman know? Did he leave the door open for Maverick to find? He fucking would. And Maverick would get angry again if he wasn’t so turned on out of his mind. 

You continue moaning, in a hazy state of bliss, but your eyes flick over to the doorframe at the sound of Ice’s voice. Maverick stands there, watching with a fiery gaze.

“M—Maverick,” you cry out, an arm absentmindedly reaching out in his direction. Your brows furrowed together, you hope he realizes you’re inviting him in; that just the sight of him almost has you keeling over and letting go. You want him in the room, but he doesn’t budge, remains in the shadows of the hallway, so you moan out again, “Please.”

Ice chuckles behind you, giddy. You’re amazed at how composed he is, how his thrusts haven’t even begun to falter. You’re so close to your orgasm, but he seems to be doing fine still. 

“P–Pete,” you gasp a third time, and then Ice hits a very sensitive spot inside you. “Oh, fuck, Ice!”

The heat of Ice’s body pressed to yours, his tight grip on your torso and the force of his thrusts are dizzying enough, but it’s even beyond that when the door creaks a little wider. Maverick hesitantly steps inside, though his eyes remain glued to you. Leaning against the wall right next to the door, he watches as Ice’s hand clasps around your breast, roughly kneading at it. 

“Knew you liked to watch,” Ice remarks, but he’s not looking at Maverick anymore. His eyelids are lidded in pleasure, lips parted as he nears his own orgasm.

Maverick’s stomach flips at Ice’s words, but he doesn’t respond. He focuses on you and how high pitched your moans sound, knows very well that that’s an indication that you’re cumming soon. 

“Ice,” you sob, your hand reaching for his and then clawing at the skin of it. “I’m gonna cum.”

Ice leans in to press his mouth to your ear, teeth lightly grazing the skin of it. “Cum for me, baby,” he rasps quietly. 

Mouthing at your neck, Ice’s eyes flick over to Maverick again, whose gaze has gotten wider. His entire face is painted crimson, eyes roaming at the sight in front of him, wanting every detail of your incoming release. Are you gonna cum for Ice the way you do for him? Let out that gorgeous sounding moan, long and lengthy when you start to shake? 

You do. 

Maverick bites his lip at the sight and sound, has to palm at his cock through his jeans to ease the ache a bit.

He watches intently as it takes Ice too, his thrusts finally sloppy, his body going slack next to yours. Ice groans out loud against your skin, his grip around your body loosening. 

The sensation breaks your haze, and you throw your head back against the mattress as it sinks in. Finally making eye contact with Maverick and his flushed face, you bite back a smile as you try to figure out how you’re gonna explain the situation to him. Maverick is wondering what he’s gonna do about his fucking hard on. Ice is just sliding out of you with a laugh.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Something There (Chapter 8)

6.7k words

Roy Kent x Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, angst, mentions of slut-shaming and double standards, horrible reporters being horrible, pining, finally some fluff!!!

A/N: This is probably my favorite chapter so far, and has some of my favorite scenes I've ever written!! My heart is HAPPY!!

Series Masterlist

I understood; I understood completely.

Ted Lasso was warm, and kind, and fun. He looked at a person like they mattered and listened with genuine interest. He made you feel like he’d have your back and believed in you.

Ted Lasso was exactly what I needed.

After chatting over drinks about our backgrounds and careers, delving into our shared deep love for sports and coaching, he finally broached the subject that had been plaguing me nonstop for what felt like an eternity.

“So. How’re you doing? With all this… hullabaloo?”

He was too kind and polite to even name the hell I was living in.

A grimace crossed my face as I lifted my beer to my lips, trying to delay answering the question for as long as possible while those patient eyes gazed at me. Finally, I had no choice but to fill the silence. “I am… okay,” I finally mumbled. “Trying to just focus on the team, you know?”

Ted nodded, watching me carefully. “I completely understand,” he hummed. “Well, I mean, not completely of course. It’s mighty unfair the way they talk about you. But…” He shrugged, giving a small pop with his mouth. “I mean, they weren’t exactly nice to me when I got here. The press, the team, hell, even Becca.” His face softened at those last couple of words. “But, eyes on the prize, as they say.” He patted my hand gently, a paternal touch I didn’t realize I needed. “Now, like I said, I don’t totally understand what you’re going through. But if you need someone who has some small idea, well, I’m here.”

“Thank you, Ted,” I murmured. “I really appreciate it.”

He shrugged, turning his attention to glance around the pub. “Anytime, Clementine.”

After a moment, I opened my mouth again. “I’ve just waited my whole life for this. To be a role model, more than a pretty face that runs fast. Sometimes that’s all I felt like back when I played. And being a coach, well everything depends on my brain, you know?” Ted’s understanding nod urged me on. “And I was finally doing it. I was winning, and because England actually gives some semblance of a crap about soccer, people started to know who I was. And then…” A big breath left my lungs. “And then this… thing happens, and it’s like nothing else matters. Olympic medals, World Cups, national titles, win streaks. Nope. Everyone thinks I’m just another Roy Kent girl.”

“You’re not just another Roy Kent girl,” Ted assured me. “It might feel like it, whatever that means, but you’re not. You’re Coach Buck, for Pete’s sake.” His smile warmed all the cold parts of my heart that had developed since Keeley first showed me the photos. “And it might feel like everyone thinks so, but I can tell you for a fact it’s not true.” He pulled out his phone and showed me the freckle-faced kid who took up his lock screen. “My boy has not stopped asking about you since I got here. Kid thinks you’re the absolute bee’s knees, Coach. He doesn’t care about these stupid headlines or what you do off the field. Heck, he even told me I should ask you for some coaching pointers.”

Beer nearly shot out of my nose as I let out a thankful laugh. “Ted Lasso, you have no idea how badly I needed to hear that.”

“Sure, I do.” He bumped his shoulder into mine. “Sometimes, ya just need a reminder about why we do what we do. To inspire other people to be their best selves.” He nodded towards his phone before pocketing it. “And you sure as heck inspire this kid. And I’m willing to bet he ain’t the only one.”

I stared at him for a moment. “You know… If you want, we could Facetime him while you’re here. If you think he’d like that, I mean.”

Lasso’s smile lit up the whole pub. “He’d love that, Coach.”

~

“Hey, Coach. Ready for that chat?”

A growl escaped Roy’s throat as Ted entered the empty office. “No,” he huffed, turning his attention back to the playbook on his desk.

Ignoring Roy’s scowl, not for the first time since they’d met, Ted plopped himself down on Beard’s desk, eyebrows raised. “I know what you need,” he announced, leaning over to grab the phone off Roy’s desk. “Better get some bones and treats, because I’m calling the Diamond Dogs.”

Before Roy could protest, Ted had called Higgins and texted Nate and Beard; almost instantly the office was filled with the sounds of howling and barking that Roy was sure anyone who was still in the building could hear. The men assembled, closing doors and perching themselves in chairs and against walls, eyes expectantly trained on Roy, as if they already knew the reason for this meeting.

When Roy glared at Ted, the American knew he’d have to get the ball rolling.

“Diamond Dogs,” he announced, “as y’all know, our favorite junkyard dog here has been goin’ through somethin’. I bet he could use some friendly ears to bark at.” He nodded to Roy. “Coach?”

There was no getting out of this. Roy knew that. So, he might as well get it over with.

“Yeah.” He turned his chair and plopped his feet on his desk, trying to keep up his uncaring demeanor. “You all fucking know. Fucking photos, fucking paparazzi and reporters, blah blah blah.” He nodded to Ted, whose face was stupidly supportive. “There. Done.”

Nate cleared his throat. “What about you and Coach Buck?”

It was probably the harshest scowl Roy had given in a long time. “What about me and Coach Buck?” His chest felt tight just saying her name out loud.

“Well…” Nate’s eyes were on the ceiling. “I mean, the two of you were getting kind of close, weren’t you? Before all this happened?” He seemed to shrink slightly under Roy’s glare. “Weren’t you?”

“We’re not close,” Roy spat. “So, dunno what there is to talk about.”

Beard sighed and narrowed his eyes at Roy. “How about we talk about how unhappy you’ve been ever since this all went down? How about we talk about the fact that you slept with her- don’t make that face at me, neither of you have denied it- and now you both look like the most miserable people in the world? Let’s talk about that.”

Before Roy could argue, Higgins cleared his throat. “Roy, have you tried, I don’t know, talking to the poor girl?”

Was there a way to renounce his membership from the fucking Diamond Dogs? “As a matter of fact, we have talked. And she wants nothing to do with me. So, again, what’s the point in any of this?”

Ted cleared his throat. “If I may, Coach, it sure didn’t look like she wanted nothing to do with ya when I saw y’all in the parking lot.” His face was soft. “She seemed pretty grateful for your help, actually. Did everything but call you her knight in shining armor when she told me about that paparazzo.”

Roy rolled his eyes, hating the blush on his face for betraying him. “Yeah, well, that’s about all I’m good for probably.” He stared at his shoes for a moment, scrunching his nose. “Just hate seeing her so fucking miserable,” he heard himself admit quietly. “It’s not really fair, this shit. All that ‘takes two to tango’ shit, but no one’s saying a word about me. It’s stupid as hell.” Dammit, he was ranting now. “And I just want to fucking fix everything but I can’t.”

“You could be her friend,” Ted said quietly. “It sounds like she could really use more of those right now.” He cleared his throat. “You know, I told her all about how Henry just really admires her- heck, I think there might be a little crush there too- and let me tell you, she looked so relieved to hear that. We actually FaceTimed him earlier today before he went to school, and man she was almost as jazzed as he was.” Ted shrugged.

Higgins nodded. “I think she just needs to feel supported and respected right now.” He cocked his head at Roy. “Just give her that, Roy. The rest will follow.”

“The fuck do you mean ‘the rest’-?”

The sound of a door opening had the men jumping. Through the window, Roy could see Buck stroll into her office, sipping her water bottle and looking at something on her phone. She froze, as if she could feel the eyes of the Diamond Dogs on her. She blinked several times when she looked up and saw the Greyhounds office filled with men staring. With her eyes on Roy, she gave a small, awkward wave before sitting at her desk and turning to her computer.

Ted smiled at Roy. “Diamond Dogs, dismissed.”

With soft barks and yaps, the men dispersed, ready to call it a day and go home. Roy sat at his desk, staring through that window, watching her type away. He thought about what they’d said; for some reason, he felt struck by Ted’s mention of Henry. Not quite sure what he was doing, Roy stood and approached the door that separated their offices. He opened it softly, raising his eyebrows when she turned around to look at him.

“Knock, knock,” he mumbled stupidly.

Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, but Roy would take what he could get. “Hey, Coach.” She wrinkled her nose. “What the fuck was all that barking?”

“Barking? What barking?” Roy entered the office and perched on Lucas’s desk, feigning ignorance as he stared at the too-pretty manager.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” she chuckled with an eyeroll. “Need something? I’m just trying to finish a couple emails before I head out.”

Roy studied her face for a moment. His gaze briefly flickered to her Brandi Chastain poster before returning to those eyes that made his insides squirm. “Would you want to come meet Phoebe’s football team?”

She blinked a few times. “Phoebe’s team?” she echoed.

He nodded, feeling good about himself for once. “Yeah. She asked me a while ago about inviting you, hasn’t shut up about you since the charity game actually.” He shrugged. “I think it’d be… fun.”

The hesitation in her eyes was heartbreaking. “Oh, I don’t know, Roy…” She bit her lip. “What if the parents don’t like me being there?”

Fuck, her voice was tiny. “If they don’t like the idea of a fucking Olympic champion watching their daughter’s football practice, they can deal with me,” he huffed. “What d’you say? Want to make me the coolest uncle in the world?”

“Well, in that case.” A genuine little smile graced her face. “Alright. Fine. I’m there.”

~

Leaving the Dog Track to go meet Roy and the girls’ team, I felt that familiar mixture of excitement and anxiety, the kind I got before games, or before an important meeting. It was a good feeling; I hadn’t had it in a while. My phone vibrating interrupted my reflecting on why this practice had me so wound-up.

“Hello?”

“Hey there.” I could hear Geroge’s smile through the phone. “I know it’s last minute, but I wanted to see if you’d want to grab dinner tonight?”

I cleared my throat as I started my walk towards the address Roy had given me. “Oh, sorry, not tonight, George. I’ve got plans.”

The disappointment in his voice was kind of sweet. “No problem. Anything exciting?”

Why did I feel weird telling him?

“Kent invited me to come meet his niece’s team,” I explained slowly. “So I’m heading on over to the school to go see their practice, say hello to the girls. Should be fun.” I tried to keep my voice light and casual, as if this was a totally normal thing to do.

Goerge was silent for a moment. “Oh. That’s lovely of you.” He cleared his throat. “Don’t you think it’s a little risky though? Being out like that? Someone might see the two of you, take some pictures…”

I passed a Whippets advertisement, one that had yet to be graffitied. “I mean, it’s a kids’ soccer practice. I doubt the press’ll be there,” I pointed out with a huffy chuckle. “And honestly, I don’t really care if anyone sees. What can they say about me visiting a girls’ team that they didn’t already say about me going into Roy Kent’s house?”

Another silence came, the same one that usually followed references to the fact that I’d slept with Roy; I hadn’t directly told George that I had, he hadn’t directly asked, but it wasn’t difficult to figure out. It was clearly not something George liked thinking about, and it was something I did my best to avoid bringing up. But for some reason, it slipped out now.

“Well,” he finally murmured. “I think you’ll have a good time. Should be a fun little evening with the kids… and Kent.” He paused. “Call me later?”

“Sure,” I hummed, hating the sinking feeling that I’d done something wrong. “Talk to you later.” I shoved my phone into my pocket and continued my walk, trying to ignore whatever that phone call was and focus instead on the evening ahead of me.

When I finally arrived at the school field, I realized my heart was hammering. It was kind of ridiculous; I’d done school visits and things like that. I’d spoken in front of crowds of students and young athletes. But for some reason, visiting one little girls’ soccer team had me feeling the way I did before stepping onto the field for the World Cup: anxious, unable to breathe.

But a high-pitched squeal immediately brought a smile to my face.

“Coach Buck!”

With a small wave, I approached the group of girls that were passing and warming up; immediately, I was tackled by a familiar blonde.

“Hey, Pheobe,” I chuckled, hugging her back. “How’ve you been?”

She beamed up at me. “Good! I’m so glad you came. I’ve been asking and asking Uncle Roy to invite you. And-”

“And she’s fucking here, ain’t she?” Roy wrapped an arm around Phoebe and shoved her aside. “Go warm up, you.” As Phoebe scampered away, he nodded to me. “Coach.”

I couldn’t help but smirk at him. “Coach.”

He cleared his throat, suddenly the picture of nervousness. “Right. So, I was thinking, I’d introduce you to the team, you could say a few words if you want, and maybe you could help run training? Unless you’d rather just watch. Either way’s fine with me.”

“I’d love to help.”

His face turned relieved. “Great.” He turned towards the group of girls, who were more interested in us than in their warmup. “Oi! Huddle up!” As soon as the girls were gathered around, Roy nodded curtly at me. “This here’s Coach Buck. She manages the Richmond Whippets. And, in case Phoebe here hasn’t already told you, she’s a World Cup champion and has an Olympic gold medal.” The excited buzzing from the girls had me fighting a smile- and it looked like Roy was fighting one too. “She wanted to come say hello to you all and help with practice. Sound good?”

“Yes, Coach!”

Roy raised an eyebrow at me. “Coach?”

With a deep breath, I took a step forward, willing myself to gaze at the little faces staring back with solemn expressions of excitement and awe. “Hello, ladies,” I greeted, putting on my best smile. “Roy- Coach Kent- has told me that you are probably the best team he coaches.” Their little giggles began to put me at ease. “And I am so excited to get to hang out with you today and see what you’ve got!”

The next hour was the best one I’d had since I moved to England- probably one of the best hours of my entire life. The girls were more than talented- they were enthusiastic, fierce, passionate, determined, fearless, everything I remembered being at their age. They played as if there was no such thing as losing or getting hurt. Every mistake was an opportunity to get better, every success was meant to be exceeded. By the end of practice, I knew every girl’s name and felt a tug in my heart when they called me “Coach”.

“Uncle Roy,” Phoebe hummed as he gathered the team at the end of practice. “Can we try to get past you?”

Roy glanced in my direction before shrugging. “You girls really want to play?”

The resounding YES had me wondering what ‘getting past’ Roy meant. As if she could sense my curiosity, Phoebe tugged my hand.

“You’re going to love this, Coach Buck,” she gushed. “It’s our favorite!”

The girls lined up, bouncing with excitement, while Roy grabbed a ball and jogged towards one of the goals made of a couple of cones. With the ease of someone who’d done this dozens of times, he rolled the ball to Kokoruda, who was first in line. She immediately began dribbling towards Roy and made a respectable attempt to score on the experienced player.

“Next!” he barked after kicking the ball out of bounds.

One by one, the girls tried to score on Roy; and each one failed.

“You don’t go easy on them?” I probed as I trotted over to Roy to return another ball to him.

He caught the ball with ease. “Fuck no,” he chuckled. “Their opponents won’t ever go easy on ‘em, will they? Why should I?”

Before I could concede that he had a point, Phoebe called out, “Coach Bucky! You should try!”

With a smirk, Roy tossed the ball back to me. “Yeah, Coach Bucky. You should try.”

Maybe it was being around the girls, maybe it was the cockiness on Roy Kent’s face. Maybe it was something else. “Fine, I’ll try,” I shot back, taking my place at the front of the line. I looked at the girls. “Any of you ever get it past him?” When they all shook their heads, my grin grew. “Well, guess he’s due for a loss then.”

I stood with my foot on top of the ball for a moment, just staring down Roy Kent. He narrowed his eyes playfully, a smile almost breaking through his serious glare. With a deep breath, I began dribbling, wondering when I had last just played like this. Roy jogged out to meet me, expertly trying to get the ball out of my control. We moved this way, that way; I was a bit surprised how well I was doing against him, if I was being honest.

“Not going easy on me, are you Kent?” I huffed, very aware of the way his body pressed against mine as he tried to steal the ball from behind me.

“Not a fucking chance,” he assured me, his breath tickling my neck.

With what I hoped was a casual chuckle, I found my opening, evading Roy and making my way towards the goal, a smaller target than I was used to. As I inched forward, I felt a pair of hands brush my sides, warm and playful.

Phoebe’s giggling voice interrupted the reeling in my head. “Uncle Roy, that’s a foul!”

“Right!” came a gruff voice behind me, laughing as the hands disappeared.

Able to return my focus to the ball at my feet, I sprinted forward, ankle be damned, and broke away from Roy; the ball sailed between the cones with ease, giving me that old, thrilling feeling of scoring a goal. When I turned around, the girls were cheering- and Roy was smiling at me.

“My knee’s fucked,” he huffed jokingly between breaths, hands on his hips as he approached. “That was hardly fair.”

I quirked an eyebrow at him as we started to walk back towards the team. “Oh, and what would you call my ankle?”

His smile widened. “Also fucked.”

Before I could snark back, the girls tackled me with hugs and shouts, clearly impressed that anyone could get past their burly coach. Roy eyed me over their heads, his face soft, reminding me of the night of the gala. All I could do was grin back at him, wondering if he felt the same warmth in his chest that I felt.

Roy dismissed his team, reminding them about their upcoming game, one they begged me to come watch. To my shock, a few parents stopped me to shake my hand and ask if they could get a picture of me with their daughter; that warm feeling in my chest grew with each “My daughter adores you!” or “It’s so cool that you came!” The whole time, Roy and Phoebe collected the equipment, with Phoebe watching me with great interest.

As the last of the girls left, I meandered over to the coach and his niece, stopping when I found myself looking into those brown eyes.

“Thanks, Kent,” I said, wondering if he could hear the thick emotion in my voice. “This… this was exactly what I needed.”

His eyes sparkled. “What, a bunch of little girls worshipping you?”

A snort escaped when I tried to hold back my laughter. “They didn’t worship-”

“Fuck off,” he chuckled, giving me a soft punch in the arm. “They fucking adored you. You’re their queen or some shit. Seriously-” He bobbled his head playfully. “-they’re probably planning a coup to get rid of me so you can be their coach.” He pointed to Pheobe, who was hovering nearby, obviously anxious to interrupt our conversation. “And that little traitor will be leading the fucking cavalry.” He waved her over. “Come say goodnight, Phoebe.”

Phoebe wrapped her arms around me, giving a squeeze. “Thank you for coming,” she gushed before letting go. “You know I have your poster in my room?” Her smile was full of pride. “I told Uncle Roy I wanted one, so he got one for me. It’s right above my dresser, so I can see it when I get ready for football.”

My jaw dropped slightly as my gaze shifted between Phoebe and Roy, who shrugged at me. Before I could think of something to say, he opened his mouth.

“I’ll make you a deal, Pheebs,” he started, eyes fixated on me. “You score in our next match, I’ll take you to see the Whippets, and we can ask very nicely if Coach Buck here will sign your poster.”

A lump formed in my throat when I saw the delight on Phoebe’s face. “Yeah,” I managed to choke out as I blinked back tears. “I could do that.”

~

There was a dull ache in Roy’s knee when he arrived at the Dog Track early the next morning, but it was a hell of a lot better than the sharp pain in his chest that seemed to be slowly disappearing. He figured he’d pop into the treatment room, grab some ice and baby his knee before getting ready for training.

When he walked through the door, he realized he wasn’t the only one that needed some tending to.

There she was, leg propped up on a chair, ice on her ankle as she scrolled on her phone. Her head snapped up at the sound of the door opening, and her face broke into one of those perfect smiles when she saw it was Roy. Without a word, they both started chuckling, almost relieved to see that the other had also overdone it the night before.

“Guess you meant it when you said you weren’t going easy on me,” she mused, watching Roy grab himself an ice pack.

He chuckled and rolled up his trackpants to expose his knee, flinching slightly as the cold touched his bare skin. “You’d fucking kill me if I did,” he pointed out. “It’d be fucking insulting.” After a moment of silence, staring at each other’s injuries, Roy opened his mouth again. “I’ll be at your game tonight,” he murmured, hoping he sounded casual.

Instead of the surprised look he expected, he swore he saw pleasure on her face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He let his eyes linger on her face. “I know the guys’ve been trying to go to as many matches as possible to show their support. Told Sam and Jamie I’d be joining them tonight. Richmond til we die, right?”

“Richmond til we die,” she repeated, her soft smile nearly stopping Roy’s heart.

Their quiet moment was interrupted by the door opening again. Rebecca stood with her hand on the doorknob, eyebrows raised at the sight of her two managers grinning at each other and icing their injuries.

“Good morning, coaches,” she greeted in a light voice, eyebrows raising slightly higher when she locked eyes with Roy before turning to the Whippets manager. “Just wanted to check in, I know you’ve got a long day. Match is at six, I believe some of the Greyhounds will be there again-”

Roy couldn’t resist piping up. “We will be.”

Rebecca didn’t bother hiding her smile as she went on. “After the match, Keeley will take Lucas to the press room, and you and I can-”

This time, the other manager interrupted her. “No.”

“No?” Rebecca blinked.

“Fuck it,” she sighed, sitting up and tossing her ice pack aside. “This is my team, right? I’m doing the press conference. Luke has covered for me long enough.”

Rebecca tilted her head sympathetically. “Are you sure?”

For a moment, those eyes turned to Roy, silently asking for his thoughts, as though his opinion mattered to her. When he gave her the tiniest, almost unnoticeable nod, she looked back at Rebecca, head held high. “Hell yeah.”

Roy had chosen the right match to come to, he realized. A 4-0 win to move into first place had him grinning with the Greyhounds as they cheered on the Whippets before they disappeared back into the tunnel. For a moment, he locked eyes with Buck, who tapped her fingers to her temple, giving Roy’s signature little salute. He saluted back, ignoring the grin on Jamie’s face. Maybe, just maybe, the two managers could grab a drink together to celebrate her win. Roy’s treat, of course. She’d more than earned it.

But first, she had a press conference to give. The Whippets and Greyhounds, intent on celebrating together, assembled in the weight room and gathered around the televisions on the wall. Roy stood right in front, Jamie by his side, eyes glued to the screen as she took her seat, red lips curled into a perfect smile.

Initially, the questions were typical post-match queries: how did she feel about the performance, what did she have to say about this error, how thrilling was that goal. And she handled them all with ease, reminding Roy of that first press conference he’d watched, where he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. But now, instead of a scowl, he almost wore a smile watching her, and he finally understood why his heart was hammering so hard. Yeah, this was good. She was good.

Until the questions weren’t good.

“Roy Kent was in the stands today,” one reporter called out. “Any thoughts on that?”

Her smile faltered as her eyes shifted away from the crowd in front of her. “Oh. Yes, the Greyhounds have been great in showing their support for the Whippets.” Her smile returned, though not as confident as before. “We’re overdue to cheer them on, so keep an eye out for us at their next match!”

Another question came at her. “What is your relationship with Roy now?”

She cleared her throat. “All the coaches here at Richmond have a great respect and fondness for one another. We’re lucky to have two great staffs that work together so well. It’s how we get wins like the one we had today, on both the men’s and women’s sides.”

Roy felt his face burn, along with several pairs of eyes staring at him. He didn’t care that she avoided the question; it was the same non-answer Keeley had given him to spout out whenever he got asked the same thing. It was the way the question came out, accusatory and aggressive, that had him frowning.

“Does your dominant personality play a role in your relationship with Roy Kent?”

There was no denying the way she scrunched her nose, fully understanding the implication. “Again, all of us coaches hold each other in high regard and have great professional relationships. Now, if you want to talk dominance, out there on the field today, Kira-”

“Speaking of Kira Malone,” a gruff voice interrupted. “She was recently seen at a pub with Jamie Tartt. Do you think your affair with Roy Kent has made the Whippets think it’s okay to run around with the Greyhounds? Is that professional?”

She began sputtering for the first time. “I would hardly call it an affair- But honestly, they’re adults, they’re professionals, I honestly-”

“And you were spotted with Ted Lasso recently,” another voice called out. “Can we assume you’ve moved on from Roy Kent?”

Her eyes widened, but she tried to recover her cool. “Coach Lasso’s a great coach. I-”

A harsh laugh rang out of the speakers. “Yeah, what does Kent think of your relationship with his ex-manager?”

Roy took a step towards the door; he knew that running into that press room would make things worse, would be a headline every paper would be running in the morning, but he didn’t give a fuck. His whole body was burning with fury as he listened to them challenge and fucking laugh at her.

A hand clasped his shoulder; Jamie was shaking his head, eyes full of sympathy, as if he too wanted to rush in and rescue her. But they both knew that she needed to do this on her own.

“Oi, is Roy why you always wear that red lipstick? Should we expect to see it on his collar sometime?”

She looked small, so impossibly small, not at all like the woman Roy had been fighting with and falling for all these months. Her defiance disappeared under their demeaning questions, her fierceness was stolen by their laughter, her cockiness was stifled by their mockery.

“What kind of example do you think you’re setting for the girls of Richmond? Sleeping with Roy Kent and all?”

That seemed to be the question that knocked the fight out of her.

“Oh, fuck this,” Roy growled, tugging out his phone. He quickly typed six little words, the first text message he’d ever sent her.

Don’t you fucking dare play nice.

Her eyes flickered to her phone, eyebrows raising; Roy knew she’d gotten his message. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting them continue to shout and shame her. Finally, she sat up tall, jaw set, and stared down the crowd in front of her.

“You know what?” she asked, her voice low and gravely. “Fuck these questions you keep asking me.” Roy was sure he heard Keeley squeak on the television. “You’re not asking Roy Kent these questions. You’re not asking if he’s a good role model. You’re not questioning his ability to manage his team.” She shook her head. “What message am I sending to young girls? Really? How about what message are you sending?”

Roy was sure it was Kira Malone’s voice behind him calling out, “Fuck yeah, Buck!”

She sat up taller now. “I am a fucking Olympian. I am a champion coach. I have won more titles and trophies and medals than this entire building combined.”

“Tell ‘em, Coach!” Jamie laughed, nodding up at her face onscreen.

Roy’s mind wandered, of all places, to his niece. To the way she adored that loud, abrasive woman, a woman who was standing up for girls like Phoebe. A lump formed in his throat as he listened; fuck, he might actually fucking cry. And he didn’t care if the Greyhounds saw the tears in his eyes. He didn’t even care about the way Jamie was staring at him; he was too enraptured by the scene unfolding on the television.

“I chose to sleep with a nice man one time, and suddenly all my accomplishments don’t matter? Who cares about Olympic gold when you’ve gone to bed with Roy Kent? What defines me is who I go home with? What message is that for the daughters of Richmond? You’re telling your girls that their accomplishments and dreams are nothing compared with what they do in the bedroom. No.” Her eyes were hard and steely as she shook her head. “Fuck this. I’m done. If I wanted to go and sleep with Roy Kent tonight, that’s my own damn business. If I wanted to sleep with any other man, or woman, or whoever, that’s my business.”

Shouts of agreement echoed through the weight room, from both Whippets and Greyhounds. A smile crept across Roy’s lips; fuck, she was incredible. If he wasn’t in love before, he definitely was now.

“What example am I setting for the girls of Richmond?” she asked with a dry laugh. “Not letting jackasses like you question our worth because of a man. That’s the example I’m setting. So if you’re here to ask about my sex life, you can fuck right off. It’s not up for debate, not anymore. It’s not what we’re talking about, now or ever. What I’m here to talk about is the fact that the Whippets are in first place and are expected to finish in the top three in our first damn season. How about you ask me about that?”

~

My heartbeat throbbed in my ears as I stood up, only vaguely registering the female reporters and handful of men who also stood, clapping and calling out words of support. I grabbed my phone and rushed out of the press room, not bothering to look at Keeley and Rebecca; I’d apologize to them later. I’d do whatever Keeley needed me to do to spin this. I’d offer to do whatever public appearances Rebecca demanded.

But first, I needed to get to my office to hyperventilate in peace.

As my feet did their job, carrying me down the halls, I became aware of the sound of… clapping? Cheering?

When I turned the last corner that would take me to the changing room, I finally stopped in my tracks.

Lining the hall were both Richmond teams, a beautiful jumble of smiles and applause and cheers, all watching me with affection. Suddenly, I found myself smothered with hugs and kisses and handshakes. Kira held me close, whispering in my ear about how proud she was to play for me; Jamie Tartt kissed my forehead and called me a bad-ass; over and over, Greyhounds and Whippets embraced me and offered their love and support.

By the time I reached the locker room, tears were freely streaming down my face, releasing all the emotion I’d been holding back in the press room; hell, all the emotion I’d been holding back since Keeley first showed me the photos of me and Roy.

The Greyhounds coaches stood in front of the locker room, pride shining on their faces. Beard and Nate each held me tight, murmuring about how amazed they were. Finally, Roy stood in front of me, his eyes watery as he gazed down at me.

“Welcome back, Coach,” he hummed, sticking out his hand.

I grasped his hand, shaking it firmly, unable to hold back my tearful smile. “Good to be back, Coach,” I murmured. I gave his hand a squeeze before letting go. “And thank you,” I whispered.

He shook his head softly. “Anytime.”

A pair of arms wrapped around me; Lucas was hugging me, tighter than anyone else had. “I’m so proud of you,” he choked out, crying almost as hard as I was. “So fucking proud, kid.”

With one last look at Roy, I let Lucas steer me into our office, listening to him chatter about how much he loved my little speech. I collapsed in my chair and laughed, from disbelief that I had just done that. My phone went off; George.

“Hey!” I exclaimed, wiping my face. “Did ya see me?”

“What the hell, Buck?” he hissed. “You just made things so much harder on yourself. They’re not going to forgive you for this. They’re not going to like you after this. Trust me, I know these people.”

When Lucas saw the way my face fell, he gave my shoulder a squeeze and left, figuring I needed some privacy.

I hunched over my desk and clutched my phone to my face. “To be honest, George, I don’t think I care if they like me. They don’t respect me, so why do I care if they think I’m nice?” I shook my head. “I’m proud of myself, actually. And so is my team. And so are the Greyhounds.” And so is Roy Kent, a little voice in the back of my head whispered.

He paused. “It was good,” he sighed. “You sounded great. Honestly, it was a great ‘girl power’ moment.” There was another moment of quiet on his end before his voice turned thoughtful. “You know, I bet we could do a great article about this. Give your side of things, talk all about the slut-shaming and double standards-”

“Didn’t you listen to what I said?” I scoffed, sensing someone approaching my office. “I’m fucking done talking about this. I’m not answering questions about this, ever again. Everyone knows I had sex with Roy Kent, that’s more than they need to know. I don’t owe anyone anything else.”

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “Why don’t we grab a late dinner? Could, I dunno, celebrate your win or something.”

For the first time since we met, I had no interest in seeing George Willows. “Not tonight,” I muttered. “I just… want to go home. Sleep. Avoid Twitter.” I finally turned, realizing it was, of all people, Roy hovering in my doorway. “Listen, I gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Not waiting for a reply, I hung up, tossing my phone on my desk before turning my chair around, raising my eyebrows teasingly at Roy. “Need something? Or are you going to send me another inspiring text message?”

He stared at me, mouth open like he was about to speak. Finally, he just shook his head and let out a breathy chuckle. “Fuck,” he breathed, stepping further into my office. “You… you were fucking something today, you know that?”

I shook my head and stood up, meeting him in the middle of the room. “Kent-”

“No.” He smirked at me. “Take the fucking compliment.” He shrugged. “I just wanted to tell you I was… really impressed today.” He cleared his throat. “On the field. In the press room. You’re a fucking great manager.” He let out a deep breath, eyes shifting around the office. “Don’t think I’ve told you that, and I’m sorry I haven’t.” He met my gaze, his smirk becoming a smile. “And I am very glad Phoebe has someone like you to look up to. So… that’s it, I guess.”

Roy Kent was looking at me with admiration. Roy Kent, who’d hated me and screamed at me. Roy Kent, who’d slept with me. Roy Kent, who asked me to speak to a girls’ soccer team. Roy Kent.

Roy Kent, who I wrapped my arms around and pulled into a hug. Not giving a shit about anything outside my tiny office, I pressed my body close to his, squeezing him tight. I buried my face in his shoulder, letting my tear-stained face dampen his Greyhounds shirt. His words, the look on his face, they were exactly what I needed.

His hands hovered over my hips, not returning the embrace, and I could hear him clear his throat, the vibration rumbling against my chest. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Immediately regretting my impulsive action, I pulled back, positive my face was bright red. “Shit,” I mumbled, my mind reeling from the roller coaster of emotions I was having tonight. “Sorry, I-”

Suddenly, I was pulled back to Roy’s chest, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I swore he sighed when my arms returned to his neck, and when my head hit his chest, I could hear his heart pounding, just as hard as I knew mine was. We stood there, hugging, wrapped up in whatever little world we were in, away from the press and the rumors and the judgement.

Just me and Roy.

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[starpirateee]

WAITWAITWAITWAIT YKNOW HOW SPANKOFFSKI IS A POLISH NAME

PETE OR TED OR MAYBE BOTH SPEAKING POLISH AND CONFUSING THE PEOPLE AROUND THEM

JUST LIKE, THEY HAVE A PRIVATE CONVERSATION OVER THE PHONE THEY DONT WANT OTHERS TO HEAR SO SPEAK IN POLISH TO EACH OTHER AND WHEN TEHY HANG UP EVERYONE AROUND THEM IS LIKE WHAT THE FUCK??????

god im insane about themmmmmm

Anon this is really funny in concept, the size of your mind is insane && I just hope I can do it vague justice

The major problem for Ted on most days was that his phone tended to ring in the most inconvenient of places, at the most inconvenient of times. another major problem was that he often got so engrossed in… Whatever he was doing in the office that he forgot that he and Pete ran on completely different schedules, because his brother was still three months from graduating high school.

He'd been bunking off for the past half hour, and had been talking to Charlotte in the break room, trying to work out when a good time to see her again would be. Everyone who knew them tended to avoid the fact that she was blatantly using him as a fallback option because her husband couldn't— or wouldn't— give her what she wanted. People like Paul and Bill tended to ignore it, only because Sam was doing the same thing across town, with one of the Beanies' baristas, and one of his coworkers… Never at the same time, mind, but Zoey Chambers seemed rather unapologetic about it, so Paul and Bill had managed to work it out as fact.

Still, it was weird to see Charlotte with Ted. Because, at the right angle, it almost looked like Ted genuinely cared about her, and wanted to keep doing what they did to get her away from the thought of her husband for a while. That, of course, had seemed like enough total bullshit that nobody bought it, but they left the two of them to their well needed privacy when it came down to it. Only two people knew they were spot on with near enough everything they speculated about.

Ted leaned against the water cooler, sporting a little more confidence than would surely be allowed in a situation like this. Charlotte wasn't having a terrible day, and that meant it was that little bit easier to talk to her. Less Sam to think about… How did that bastard end up with a woman like her? And why was it that her situation was that bad that he was an upgrade for her?

He was going to think about an answer to that question, but his phone started ringing in his back pocket, vibrating way too dramatically against the cooler.

"Jesus christ-" He stood up a little straighter, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "Sorry, Charlotte. One sec, I swear- hello?"

"Hey, Ted."

That was a voice he'd recognise from anywhere. Pete, once again working off his own time and perhaps completely overlooking the fact that Ted still had an hour at work.

For the sake of clarity, Pete checked his watch and drew the realisation that the holidays were over last week, and Ted was back on office hours. His brow creased, hoping he wasn't interrupting anything then realising there wasn't really anything to interrupt in his brother's work life. "This a bad time?"

"Oh, hey, Pete. No, you're good, I wasn't doing anything anyway…" Ted went straight back to lounging, aware that Charlotte was now trying not to eavesdrop but didn't really have anything better to do. "What's up?"

Pete chuckled. "C'mon, when are you ever doing anything? You don't do shit! Especially not at work!"

"Hey! I do shit! I get paid to do shit, don't I?"

"… Do you even know what department you work in?"

It was a genuine question, and would've accounted for Ted's genuine laziness and reluctance to do any of the actual work he was sent… If Ted hadn't prepared for this exact eventuality several months ago. He'd made sure to pay enough attention in a Monday meeting to at least account for what depeatment he worked in, and what that department pretty much required him to do. He didn't have to work constantly anyway, and that was the best part. His main job was just… fixing the problems everyone else had, when they had them.

"Sure I do. Tech support!" He imagined the defeated expression that flashed across his brother's face, and laughed to himself. There were too many people around him to make the point he was going to make next without getting mobbed, so he leaned in a little closer to the phone, a smirk playing on his lips, and muttered, "Czuję się, jakbym był jedynym idiotą, który faktycznie się zakwalifikował… (I feel like I'm the only idiot who's actually qualified…)"

That prompted an unexpected laugh out of Pete, who was clearly around other people too, because he tried to cover it up. "To wiele mówi (that says a lot.)" He returned once he'd stopped laughing. The two of them had stopped questioning the other's occasional slip into their own version of mostly fluent Polish. They used it to their advantage, to have private conversations in public, or sometimes in reverse when they were around the Polish side of their family. More things could be said if there was the added bonus of nobody overhearing, and that way of thinking had helped Pete out on a few occasions.

Ted cracked a smile. "Ty jesteś gówniarz- (you're a little shit)" He managed to bring himself back into the conversation they were supposed to be having, before he and Pete managed to lose it like they always did, lost in the jesting and the back and forth that just seemed to get better with every phonecall they had. "You didn't call to insult my supposed lack of work, did you? What's up?"

"Can I drop by the office and pick up your keys? I must've left mine on my desk this morning… Took me till third period to realise they weren't in my pocket…" Pete turned from the phone to mutter something- a goodbye, perhaps- towards someone else, and Ted found it vaguely amusing that Pete had retaliated to his complaint when he was with friends.

"You left after me this morning…"

"The front door locks itself, don't worry about it."

Ted faltered, and then nodded. He'd figured that by accident once when he accidentally locked himself out after forgetting his own keys, and he had to wait in the foyer for half an hour like an absolute fool for Pete to show up after his study session. "Fine. You know where the back entrance is, don't you? My car's parked out there, you should recognise it."

"That hunk of shit? I'd recognise it anywhere,"

"Do not slander my car!"

"C'mon, Ted, you've had it like, twenty years! And it hasn't gotten any better in all that time…"

He was going to ignore for now the seemingly increasing pile of problems that it seemed to have every year. Wings that needed replacing because they'd rusted so hard last year, numerous little engine faults… And the suspension was probably shot after all these years… It was a hunk of shit, sure, but it was _his_hunk of shit. "You just wait till you get your own hunk of shit, we'll see who's laughing then!"

"I'm- I'm getting close, I can see your car. Thanks for this, by the way…"

"Yeah yeah, don't mention it, Pete. You better not lose 'em on your way home, I know what you're like…"

"Dupek. (Asshole)"

"Tak, też Cię kocham… (Yeah, I love you too)" Ted chuckled before Pete hung up on him with a scoff. He rolled back his shoulders and stood up from the water cooler. Charlotte tilted her head, and it dawned on him that she'd probably heard all of that. He shrugged. "My brother. Useless bastard left his keys in the apartment… Hold on just a moment." He flashed her a quick smile and sauntered out of the break room towards the lift at the back of the office. Charlotte didn't have the time nor the space to question the constant little jumps in language that may well have happened on both ends, because Ted was gone before she had the chance to think about it at all.

[thislovintime]

On the set of Head, 1968.

“‘What stood out for me with Davy as an artist was his spontaneous stagecraft,’ Tork recalls. ‘He enjoyed himself on stage, for sure, gloried in his part. He was so alert as an entertainer and so relaxed that things would come to him out of the blue and he would just go with them. He could be incredibly funny. Micky and I were always breaking up on stage. [...] I’m so sorry he’s gone. I’m going to miss that wit and heart.’” - Billboard, March 1, 2012

“Genuine, reliable and huggable, Peter is a natural person — really gets off on talent — loves other musicians and can jam along with the best of ‘em. I saw him holding his own with Hendrix, Stills, Young. He encouraged me no end. Bought me my first guitar and my first drum kit. […] Never really got into fashions — he had his own. The first guy I ever met who wore different-colored socks. Wore his belt buckle on the side. Hated boots. Always had on sandals or moccasins. He used to walk with a swagger, swinging his arms with a confident air. He calmed hysteria, and lifted depression. ‘Dried banana, anybody? Piece of orange?’ — smiling, waving, running his hand through his hair. He knew all the crew by their first names. Kids crying at his feet he lifted and hugged like a father calming a child. Health food was just starting to catch on in the sixties and Peter was kind of a forerunner of that whole scene. I’m afraid that sort of image was a little thin for two other guys I could mention, but I understood — I really did. And I think he knew it. […] He’s the most musically talented of us all by a mile. His songs are real. ‘For Pete’s Sake’ — which replaced the Monkees Theme at the end of the some of the shows of the second season — is one of my all-time favorite songs by anybody. I’ve joked a lot about Peter giving everything away. But it was true. He was always giving his spare room to someone who needed it for the night — anyone. And he always seemed far away somewhere — in a different space. But I’m glad I know him. Of all the things he gave, he gave me lots of laughs — and food for thought.” - Davy Jones

“[Micky] and Mike and I have a very cordial relationship and share a lot of common topics. We go to lunch together when we’re all in town and have a good time. I love and respect each of these guys in their own way, although the real joys that I shared with Davy were special. At one point we had some good hard connections but as the years rolled on, those things faded away. But I am sorry to see Davy go. He was the one member in the group that I had the strongest human connection with. I still have two guys that I love and respect left from the band, but we share a different dynamic.” - Peter Tork, Review Mag, May 27, 2016

"I only now have, in the last couple of years, come to understand how smart and good-hearted Davy Jones could be. I did not have the skills to notice that, even though I was drawn to it without knowing exactly why. But I certainly did not have the first clue of how to encourage all of the good stuff from Davy that I loved. I wish I could have known how to do it - and he might still be with us, even.” - Las Vegas Weekly, September 14, 2016 (x)

“Well, I’ve never been really close with Michael [Nesmith] for some reason. You know, I have a lot of respect for him and admiration. But somehow we’ve never integrated. We’ve never been warm with each other. We worked together and did pretty well at it really.” - Peter Tork, Clevescene, March 13, 2017

Q: “I’m curious about the various reunions that happened over the years. Is it safe to say that you guys were never really friends?” Peter Tork: “Oh, I don’t know. I would say I was pretty good friends with Micky, and there was a lot of love between me and Davy. I have a lot of respect for Mike Nesmith and we’ve structured ways to work together. Things rotate. It’s like having a basketball team. You know, gosh, it’s like having a championship basketball team. They go on the road every so often and do tours, you know, just exhibition tours but fortunately your music skills don’t deteriorate as fast as your basketball skills do, but I wouldn’t know what else to compare it to. We had a chance to go out together and we took it, and we had a great time, and if we were not friends at all we would not have been able to do it. We played tours months and months long: ‘86, ‘87, ‘89, ‘91, ‘92, ‘96, ‘97, 2001, 2002 and 2011, so we couldn’t have been such enemies.” - Phawker, circa 2012; re-published 2019

And a throwback to Michael's 1972 Hit Parader comments about Peter in an older post.

[sky-neverending]

Falling (doesn’t feel so bad when i know you’ve fallen this way too): Part 1

so i’ve decided i’m gonna start posting parts of my michie oneshot until i finish it and post the whole thing on ao3 so uhh here’s part one!!

They say the old Waylon place is haunted. And it is, in a way. For nothing ever truly dies there, the Waylon’s made sure of that.

But there’s someplace else in that tragedy-ridden town that holds the very same spells and incantations that the Waylon’s placed on their home, a building used as a backup in case anything ever went wrong.

Hatchetfield High.

So when Richie Lipschitz died in that school, on that fateful day, his spirit never really moved on. He stayed dormant in those halls for a week, and then two, and then almost three. Watching. Waiting. Holding out for Maxwell Jågerman to show his face at the sight where he took an innocent boy's life.

And it happened.

The doors to the gym cluttered upon, catching Richie’s attention. It was night, school was closed. Someone had broken in.

“Are you sure about this?” he heard a familiar voice say, squeaky and filled with worry. “Who knows what kind of door we’re gonna open.”

“We have too, Pete,” a girl responded, again her voice a familiar tone. “For Ruth, and Richie, and everyone…” His head perked up at his own name, and he walked toward them, feet light on the floor. “Grace, summon these bastards.”

He stepped through the door, looking into the darkness as Steph, Pete, and Grace knelt in the middle of the gym with a large black book in hand. They began chanting, and a chill ran through Richies undead spine as something in the air shifted.

“Stop!” He leapt forward, calling to them. “Stop, stop what you're doing!”

Everyone turned to look at him. “Richie?” Pete whispered, like he was afraid of what he was seeing. “Richie, how are you here? You- you're dead!”

“Max is dead too, and somehow he is haunting us, so who knows what the fuck is going on anymore?” Steph threw her hands in the air. “Sorry, Richie, for not being happy about your sudden appearance. But we are freaking the fuck out!”

Suddenly, Grace stood. She took the book she was holding with her, flipping through the pages as she talked. “This makes so much sense!”

“Sorry, what?” Steph walked toward her. “Care to clue the rest of us in?”

Grace rolled her eyes. “The Waylons, they put evil magic on their house, right? So it makes sense that they might have put the same spell on another place they founded.”

“Like the school!” Pete said, catching on. “That’s why Richie is here, he’s in the same situation as Max!”

“Then why isn’t he trying to kill us?” Steph asked, yanking the book from Grace’s hands. “Because, if you don’t remember, we currently have a very angry, very undead jock plotting our demise!”

“Shut the hell up!” Richie yelled, stalking toward her angrily. “Everyone, just shut up! I have no clue what the fuck you guys are talking about anymore, but I don’t like the look of that book. Give it to me.”

“No!” Steph said, turning away from him. “We need to do this!”

“For fucks sake, Steph, you aren’t the main character in a poorly written anime,” Richie grumbled, reaching for the book. His hand skated over his skin, and she screeched at the contact, dropping the leather bound pages on the floor.

Richie caught them mid-air, right as Steph stopped screaming. “Why can you touch me? Why are you so cold? What the FUCK is going on?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just how ghosts work, Stephanie Lauter,” said Richie, pronouncing each syllable of her last name separately. “Now, I'm going to keep this book because I, frankly, am frightened of what you are going to do with it.”

[friendly-books]

Dresden files Brief cases and Monster live blog

Dresden files Brief cases and Monster live blog

A fistful of warlock

The American West was not the most miserable land I have ever traveled but it came near it.” pg. 16 Excuse me what nonsense are you talking about Luccio? The Midwest is great.

I like the nacken

“The warlock would hide in the rough part town-his kind could rarely find sanctuary among stolid, sober townsfolk” pg. 18 His kind? Kind? He’s still a person.

Cool spectacles

“The current Captain of the Wardens, a man named McCoy, a man with great deal more powerful and experience than me, had brought down three.” pg. 24 Eb mention

“Not only that, but such an action would brake one of the Council’s unspoken laws: Wizards were expected to minimize the use of  their abilities in the presence of magic-ignorant mortals.” pg. 25 Harry breaking spoken and unspoken laws

“My name is Wyatt Earp” said the deputy “And I think I’m the law” pg. 29 I like Wyatt

“Thule Society” pg. 30 Isn’t that the thing Thomas and Ivy is apart of?

“He will be fairly tried, and then, I expect, beheaded for his crimes.”

Earp examined the fingers nails of his right hand. “A real fair trial?” pg. 34 Yep real fair :|

“Well Bill’s partner” pg. 38 GAY COWBOYS!

“You’re willing to challenge an entire town to a fight? For the sake of your friend’s salon?” pg. 41 Is…is Luccio type people who stand up for the right thing? Like Harry and Earp. No one wonder she and Morgan didn’t get together

“It was then that the drum began beating, a slow, steady cadence in the darkness.” pg. 42 Oh no necromancers

“Rage, pure and undiluted, rage that this man, this creature, would spurn his responsibility to humanity and distort the power that created the universe itself into something so obscene, so foul.” pg. 51 Whoa there Luccio let’s not call people ‘creatures’ that’s how dehumanizing begins at that’s bad

“Kemmler” pg. 55 Oh no him that’s not his last time around

B is for Bigfoot

“Volkswagen beetle” pg. 60 Blue Beetle!

“I’m not a moron, usually.” pg. 60 Ha

“The whole PI gig is mostly about patience.” pg. 60 It’s fun seeing Harry being a pi after several books of him not being one

“My jaw dropped open. I mean it literally dropped open.” pg. 62 Ha

Bigfoot!

I like Dr. Helena Pounder

“But how did I hookup with a BigFoot?” pg. 67 I mean we were all wondering so…

“People can overreact to things when their kids get involved.” pg. 71 Yep you’ll find out soon enough Harry

“I winced. I knew where this was going. I’d seen it before, when it had been me with the book and the lunch tray.” pg. 73 Poor Harry poor Irwin

I like Irwin

I don’t like Couch Pete

“He is a Whitestone,” he said “They sharpen their instincts upon him. He is good for them.” pg. 84 He’s a child

I like Harry’s speech to Irwin

Go Irwin!

AAAA Wizardly

“They all look so darn young.” The close second was “Myers God I’m I getting older” pg. 106 Poor Harry

“The war had simply made the penalty for not learning quite a bit steeper.” pg. 107 Poor kids

I like Harry teaching the young wardens

“Oh God” she said “I think I like you”

“Give it time” pg. 117 Ha

“I’ve never met anyone who was breathing who I thought was too far gone to help.” pg. 122 Aw Harry

Boogeyman

“Only kids can sense them” pg. 123 Oh interesting

I’m glad the family got better

I was a teenager Bigfoot

“I’m in the ninety ninth percentile for height, but this guy was tall.” pg. 144 Yep

“You have an unsophisticated sense of humor.” pg. 145 Yes he does

River Shoulders!

“He was a good-looking man” pg. 151 Bi Harry 39

I can’t believe Irwin’s already a teenager

“I can’t think of anything sexier first impression than a man quoting Yakko and Wakko Warner” pg. 154 Ha

“Optio” pg. 159 New spell

“It was beautiful magic, which was rare for me.” pg. 159 Aw

“My record for going without sleep was just under six days” pg. 168 Harry you need sleep

“Wah” I said, Bruce Lee style” pg. 172 Ha

“You used black magic. To grow hair.” pg. 178 Seriously :|

“And I had no intention of turning anyone over to the tender mercies of the Wardens if I could possibly avoid.” pg. 179 Yep

Curses

“I mean I didn’t take my feet down off my desk or anything. But I payed attention.” pg. 184 Ha

“Mr. Dovovan” I said “no one does discretion like me.” pg. 189 Ha

More lore yay!

“Weregoats” pg. 202 Ha

I like Jill

“Gwynn ap Nudd” pg. 211 Where have I heard that name before

“ruggedly handsome” pg. 211 Bi Harry 40

Since when did Harry get so many titles?

“I’d like to see them to beat out the Yankees.”

“Who wouldn’t? Bloody Yankees” pg. 213 Ha and yes beat the Yankees

I like Geynn

Yes baseball is very serious business

“I have this weird thing where I take professional ethics seriously.” pg. 219 Yep

“They’re going to fight through it eventually.” pg. 222 Yep and they did in 2016

“Gwynn ap Nupp’s handsome face broke into a smile” pg. 223 Bi Harry 41

Even Hand

EVEN HAND TIME BABY!!!

I’m so excited for this short story

“A successful murder is like a successful restaurant: Ninety percent of it is about location, location, location” pg. 226 Ha and I probably shouldn’t have laughed at that

“They knelt over a large faded stain the concrete floor, left on the floor by the hypocritical White Council of Wizardly during their last execution.” pg. 226 Is Marcone making a point by having this executive here? How does Marcone know about the execution? And yes the White Council is hypocritical. We now have three canonical warehouses in all of Chicago. They just cycle through them.

“The man was young and good looking.” pg. 226 Is…is Marcone Bi? Gay? Bi Marcone 1

Oh Marcone is doing the execution himself

Why Boston? That’s so far away

Mr. Morell is the mob boss of Chicago

“I run the whores” pg. 227 Marcone that’s rude to say. It’s either sex worker or seamstress

Marcone your putting the one alive guy in a shipping container with his dead colleagues.

“He twitched his chin in the slight motion that he used for a nod when he disproved of my actions but intended to obey be anyway.” pg.227 Marcone knows Hendricks well

“Location, location, location” pg. 228 Ha nice call back

“Obviously, I am not Harry Dresden” pg. 228 First Harry Dresden mention

“My name is something I rarely trouble to remember, but for most of my adult life, I have been called John Marcone.” pg. 228 John Marcone isn’t his actual name!?

“I’m not even possessed of the mystic abilities of a mortal wizard.” pg. 228 Not yet

Yes they broke Marcone rules about kids

“He was hunched over a laptop too small for him, plugging away at his thesis” pg. 230 Hendricks has a thesis?! Cool

“The problem was young and attractive.” pg. 230 Bi Marcone 2

Justine!

“You are a sometime associate of Harry Dresden” I said “Given his proclivities about those he considers to be under his aegis, it is sensible to identify as many of them as possible.” pg. 232 Of course Marcone keeps track of Harry and his friends. And Marcone you do the same with your employees.

I like that Marcone renovates old buildings instead of tearing them down.

Oh the Formor

“Précis please,” pg. 234 Of course Marcone know French

Hendricks knows how to use a sword!?

“I don’t grant favors” You don’t? What about helping save the thralls in White Knight? Or giving Harry info in Changes?

“He blasted the door into a cloud of flying splinters with what I presumed with magic.” pg. 235 Ha

“For God’s sake

At least the vampires would call for an appointment.” pg. 235 Ha

“After a few visits from Dresden and his ilk I’ve invested in cheap, light doors at dramatic (as opposed to tactical) entry points.” pg. 235 Ha and glad to see Harry left an impression. Has Harry noticed the flimsy doors?

“Sir. Please” pg. 236 If Harry was the one asking and saying please Marcone would cave and agree

“Is it so much to ask for civility?” pg. 236 Ha and you should be used to this with Harry

Ohhh copper circle nice

“you are property. You have no rights in the current situation” pg. 241 Marcone Justine isn’t property she’s a person

“I am not a humanitarian. When I offer charity it is for tax purposes.” pg. 241 Lying to yourself Marcone. Again what about the Raith deeps? What about the info he gave Harry in Changes? No wait this takes place before Changes. What about Amanda? What about saving Harry when Gard said he was to die?

“Hendricks looked at me sharply. He didn’t say anything he didn’t have to. I already knew the tone of whatever he would say. Are there no prisons? perhaps. Or, no man was an island, entire of itself. It tolls for thee. On and on.” pg. 243 Thank you Hendricks for being Marcone’s jimmy cricket/concussion

Yes she is a child

“It is, with the possible exception of Dresden’s home, the most secure location in the city.” pg. 245 Oh interesting that Marcone considers his safe house the second most secure place. He clearly respects Harry given his assessment of his abilities. How does Marcone know that Harry has the best? Could Gard not make the room the best?

“Honestly” pg. 246 Ha he’s so sarcastic

“They make the anti technology effect Dresden puts off looks like mild sunspot activity” pg. 248 Harry mention again that’s the fifth time and Harry isn’t even here

“I first handed in my patriotically delusional youth” pg. 250 Marcone was in the military?!

Oh no Hendricks :(

Ouch Marcone broke his arm

“Given a choice between that egocentric drivel and a broken arm, I prefer the latter.” pg. 253 Ha

Interesting armor that Gard has

“Be a dear and burn down the building” I said

 She appeared by my desk looking bruised, exhausted, and functional. She lifted both eyebrows. “Was that a joke?

“Apparently,” I said “Doubtless the result of triumph and adrenaline.”

“My word” she said. She looked startled” pg. 261 Marcone’s funny and why is Gard surprised? Harry and Marcone banter all the time

“Make it look like an accident.” pg. 261 So insurance fraud. What would Harry be under acts of God?

“quarter of a million dollars” pg. 261 Marcone just has that kind of money?

“He seemed fine by the time he left, growling at Gard as she fussed over him.” pg. 262 Aw

“To say nothing of the fact that the bullets themselves are rare.” pg. 262 Interesting

“Dear child,” I said “I am a criminal. One very good way to cover up a crime is to commit an another, more obvious one.” pg. 263 Marcone is so smart

“You might consider speaking to Father Forthill at St. Mary of the Angles. The Church appears to have some sort of program to place those endangered by the supernatural into hiding.” pg. 264 Interesting

“I debated putting a bullet in her head but decided against it.” pg. 265 Marcone no and besides didn’t you just talk about Harry and those under his protection

“If she should speak of today’s events to Dresden…” pg. 265 Sixth Harry mention. Did Justine tell Harry? I do wish Harry and Justine interacted more

“They were there to kill Harry Dresden.” pg. 265 Seventh Harry mention Bit dramatic much. I don’t know if all that would kill Harry. The bombs in his office didn’t do it. The sprinkler system might work. Not sure about Gard and the magic bullets. Besides it’s so dramatic. If you want to kill Harry just do what Kincaid did. Sniper rifle but this time aim for the head. This whole plan involves Harry attacking Marcone on his home turf and using magic instead of a gun.

“I would test myself against Dresden in earnest on day” pg. 265 Eighth Harry mention. Besides if they wanted to kill each other they could have done ages ago. Harry doesn’t even threaten Marcone that badly like he did with Marva. Eight mentions of Harry Dresden in one story.

“Location location location” pg. 266 Ha

Bigfoot on campus

“It’s coffee flavored coffee,”

“No mocha?”

“Fuck mocha”

“Thank god” I said. “Black” pg. 267 Ha

“Am I under arrest?”

“That’s what we’re going to talk about” pg. 268 Ha 

“you could explain why I found you in the middle of an orgy.”

“Well” I said “if you’re going to be in an orgy the middle is the best spot isn’t it?” pg. 268 Ha

“Maybe you could explain why there was a car on the fourth floor of the dorm”

“Classic college prank” I said

“Usually when that happens, it hasn’t made big holes in the exterior wall.”

“Someone was avoiding cliche?” pg. 269 Ha

“What about all the blood?”

“There were no injuries, were there?”

“No”

“Then who cares? Some film student watched  Carrie too many times.” pg. 269 Ha

“Six separate calls in the past three hours with a Bigfoot sighting on campus. Bigfoot. What do you know about that?

“Well kids these days with their internets and their video games and their iPods. Who knows what they thought they saw.” pg. 269 Ha

“They almost never get violated, and when they do, it’s a big deal.” pg. 273 Yeah like starting a war

“In the Midwest, if you show up to a college town on a weekend, you risk running into a football game. In my experience, that resulted in universal problems with traffic, availability hotel rooms, and drunken football hooligans.

Or wait: Soccer is the one with hooligans. Drunken American football fans are just…drunks I guess.” pg. 277 Ha

“There was nothing in particular that should have caused my hormones to rage.” pg. 281 White court vampire calling it now

“They were becoming increasingly flecked with motes of molten silver” pg. 284 I knew it!

Wait I don’t think she knows oh no

“I couldn’t answer him for a second, the air felt so close. The last time I’d felt this much latent waiting power, I’d been standing next to my mentor Ebenezar McCoy, when he was gathering his strength for a spell.” pg. 292 Eb mention

“And this organization called the Paranet” pg. 293 Paranet! This is what I’m talking about information sharing yes

“People don’t want to know the truth. That makes it simple to hide. Wow, ten minutes? Really? I guess I’m not an Internetty person.”

“Internetty” Irwin said, seriously “I guess you aren’t” pg. 294 Ha

“So how come Kid Bigfoot wasn’t dead?” pg. 302 Interesting maybe because he’s got do much life energy Irwin didn’t die?

“The girl was in love with Irwin” pg. 302 I wonder how Connie can touch Irwin without getting burn?

“My son has joined himself to a parasite.”

“I felt a flash of milf outrage” pg. 302 RiverShoulders she’s a person

“I’ll give you till midnight to leave the state. After that you’re gone. One way or another”

“Hang on, I’m terrified let me catch my breath.”

“I react poorly to those who threaten my family’s well being, Dresden.”

“Yeah. You’re a regular Ozzie Nelson. John Walton. Ben Cartwright.

“Excuse me?”

“Mr. Drummond? Charlie…in charge? No?”

“What are you blabbing about?”

“Hells bells, man. Don’t any of you White Court bozos ever watch television? I’m giving you pop-reference golf here. Gold.” pg. 309 Ha

Wild Bill!

“Also, my pants had shrunk by several sizes.” pg. 323 What? Why?

Go Riversholders! He threw a car!

“Don’t be a moron Harry,” I said “You came for the kid. He’s safe. That’s all you were obligated to do. Let it g- Oh who am I kidding. There’s a girl.” pg. 334 Ha

“Wait. A…what? Am I going to sparkle or something?”

“God, no” said Irwin and I together” pg. 340

Bombshell

“I miss my boss” pg. 345 Poor Molly :(

“Harry wouldn’t have felt that. Harry would have saved the day. He would have smashed the Formor goons around like bowling pins, picking the kid up like some kind of serial-movie hero, and taken him to safety.” pg. 346 Hero worship

Justine!

“When you’re in magic, people always assume you do must be connected to it. Harry always thought it was funny. To him, magic was just one more set of tools that the mind could use to solve problems.” pg. 350 Interesting

“I hadn’t wanted to hurt his feelings but that kind of thing really wasn’t necessary.” pg. 354  Interesting to see how Molly used Harry’s spell and changed it

“The math wasn’t hard. I had two angles measured against the magnetic north.” pg. 355 Interesting how much math is involved in magic

“That bitch deserved to be run over by a car.” pg. 377 Poor Molly :(

“This isn’t going to work.” Justine murmured

“It’s going to work.” I told her keeping my tone confident. We’ll breeze right in. The Rack will be with us.”

Justine glanced at me with an arched brow “The Rack?”

“The Rack is more than just boobs, Justine” I told her soberly. “It’s an energy field created by all living boobs. It surrounds us, penetrates us, and binds the galaxy together.”

Andi started giggling. “You’re insane.”

“But functionally so,” I said, and adjusted myself to round out a little better. “Just let go of conscious self and act on instinct.

Justine stared blankly at me for a second. Then her face lightened and she let out a little laugh. “The Rack will be with us?”

I couldn’t stop myself from cracking a smile “Always.” pg. 381 Ha

“I spotted Gentleman Jonnie Marcone, the head of Chicago’s outfit, in attendance, with his gorilla, Hendricks, and his personal attack witch, Gard, floating around near him.” pg. 385 Marcone! Again with that spelling. Why is Molly calling Hendricks a gorilla and Gard a attack witch?

“Too easy,” I whispered “This was too easy.” pg. 397 Yep something’s up

“Mortal upstart. Calling himself a baron. He will pay for what he did to my brother.” pg. 403 Marcone! This is the brother of the Formor from Even Hand

“Miss Gard freaked out about two minutes ago and all but carried out Marcone out of here. Security is mobilizing.” pg. 407 Why am I picturing Gard bride carrying or fireman carrying Marcone?

“Dammit,” I growled “What would Harry do?” pg. 409 WWHD Harry would make it up as he goes so you’re doing great at that part Molly

“Harry had once told me that when you had one problem, you had a problem. But when you had several problems, you might have several solutions.” pg. 409 Interesting

“Hey God” I whispered. “I know I haven’t been  around much lately, but if you could do me a solid here, it would be really awesome for a lot of people. Please let me be right.” pg. 419 Ha

“Harry. Alive.” pg. 431 Yay!

Cold Case

“My own clothing, I knew disappointed her gravely, but I was used to doing that to mother-figures.” pg. 435 Ouch poor Molly :(

Carlos!

“Harry Dresden has had a horrible influence on far too many people, and has much to answer for.” pg. 449 Ha

“I’d had recurring nightmares about it, in fact.”  pg. 450 Didn’t Harry also have nightmares about the wardens?

Elaine!

“Psychic interrogation” pg. 460 Oh no

“Warden do a lot of good.” He said quietly “It isn’t always pretty, what we do, but it needs to be done.” pg. 464 Wardens kill children Carlos

“He dealt with them on a continuous basis, after all, and in his studied opinion, if you had one problem, you had a problem. But if you had multiple problems, you might also have an opportunity. pg. 468 Call back to bombshell!

“God, I love hero work.” Carlos said as we stepped back out into the storm. “No murky gray area, no anguished questions, no conflicting mortality. Bad guys took some kids, and we’re gonna get’em out.” pg. 476 That does sound nice and I like how this shows the reader how young Carlos is

“Maybe if someone had offered a hand to the monsters, they wouldn’t have become monsters in the first place.” pg. 477 Yes!

“I was carrying pliers with me, so that I could take vampire teeth as trophies.” pg. 477 Carlos that’s not a good thing. That’s spoils of war or serial killer trophies and that’s bad.

“Mom taught me, She was scoutmaster for my brothers.” pg. 480 Cool

“Outsiders” pg. 481 Oh no

So Outsiders plus fisherman equals Call of Cthulhu

“Harry was a big believer in kicking in the teeth of whoever you planned to fight.” pg. 485 Ha and yes good tactics

“kicked the big double door off their hinges as if they’d been made of balsa and Scotch tape.

At which point I learned the real reason Harry keeps doing that.

It. Is. Awesome.” pg. 486 Ha

“And then I was sitting on the floor of the shower, shuddering, hot water pouring down around me.” pg. 499 What

“I looked down at the water. The drain stopper was down, and it was seven or eight inches deep.

And pink.” pg. 500 What happened?

Poor Carlos :(

Ok so Molly can’t have sex and the mantel will attack anyone who tries to have sex with her.

“You want me to take their children.” pg. 504 Oh no :(

Jury Duty

“Summons,” I said glowering. “It’s a freaking command. They want to see a real summoning is, I could show them.” pg. 513 Ha  and I can’t believe the government got Harry a summons. He died then came back from the dead and was homeless for a bit. There’s no way bureaucracy was this fast. There has to be scheming involved. String pulling from someone. Maybe Lara or Marcone?

“More had been set aside by the new owner of my old address, formerly Mrs. Spunkelcheif’s boardinghouse, and now the Better Future Society. I hadn’t been able to stomach asking the new owner for my mail, but Butters had gotten it for me.” pg. 513 Wait does this mean that Marcone kept Harry’s mail? How long did Marcone keep Harry’s mail? Even when Harry was dead? Was Marcone hoping Harry would come get them? What was the conversation between Butters and Marcone like?

“The government isn’t the mob, Harry.”

“Aren’t they?” I asked “Pay them money every year to protect you, and God help you don’t.” pg. 514 Ha

“Then a guy in a black muumuu showed up and reconnected the plot of My cousin Vinney.

Okay, it was a robe and the guy was the judge, and he gave us a brief outline of the format of the trial system, but it’s not nearly as entertaining to say it that way.” pg. 516 Ha

“The new kid was in his late twenties” pg. 517 Who let this kid be the prosecutor? He can’t be that out of law school.

“So where was his public defender?” pg. 518 He’s got the right to a public defender so where are they? Something’s up I’m suspicious

“Everyone stood up. After a second, so did I.

I guess you could say I’m not really a joiner.” pg. 518 Ha

“He held up a glossy professional headshot of a handsome man in his thirties and showed it to us.” pg. 520 Bi Harry 42

“drag a female child, Latino, around the age of ten, into the alley.” pg. 526 Oh

“Something did not add up here.” pg. 528 Yep

So let’s review the facts

Harry who’s died and come back from the died for less than a month only a gets a jury summons despite bureaucracy being slow.

The prosecutor is a new kid and not the DA.

The defense doesn’t have an attorney.

The victim was a stock broker.

The defendant is a tough guy who’s definitely been in fights before.

There is supposedly a child that the man kidnapped.

The defendant is more beat up than seems appropriate.

In conclusion I think that the fear eating Raiths are the victim was a stockbroker and not a ghoul got the girl and the defendant killed a White Court vampire. Then either Marcone or Lara stacked the jury to have Harry involved. They made it so the prosecution was a new guy and the defense doesn’t have a lawyer.

“Nobody was going to go bat for him.

Unless I did it.” pg. 529 Yep

“I started with Johnny Cash version of “Hurt” which was pretty simple. I sang along with it. I’m not good, but I can hit the notes and keep the rhythm going” pg. 533 This is nice and I miss Harry’s guitar and I wish he’d played more

“The door was locked.

It was also made of glass.

I smiled.” pg. 537 Ha

“Tania Raith” I knew a Raith was involved

“She wielded enormous influence in Chicago, maybe as much as the head of Chicago outfit, Gentleman Johnnie Marcone, gangster lord of the mean streets.” pg. 539 Marcone mention!

“Because you know what happened the last time some vampires abducted a little girl and I decided to take her back. pg. 539 Yep scary threat

“I believe Baron Marcone has recognized claim on this city. Or am I mistaken?” pg. 540 It’s their city

“Luther was one of Marcone’s soldiers.” pg. 540 Oh

“He pulled some strings to get me on the jury.” pg. 541 I knew strings were pulled

“Dammit Marcone had put me where there’d be a guy getting fast- tracked to an unjust sentence and known damn well how I’d react. He could have asked me for help, but I’d have told him to take a flying…leap. And he’d have known that. So he set it up without me knowing.” pg. 542 Marcone knows him so well

“What does Marcone mean to you? You don’t owe him anything. Why not sit down, have a drink, help me celebrate.” pg. 543 Tania asking the real questions

Riley doesn’t get paid enough

Tania really does need a babysitter.

“Goddamn supernatural assholes” pg. 550 Does she know? Does the Judge know?

Day one

“There were a great many letters in that, and not much that I understood” pg. 558 Ha

Lamar!

“The skull is very dangerous object.” He said “It doesn’t…understand love. It doesn’t understand faith.” pg. 568 Bob!

Fear monster

Harry!

“Polka will never die” pg. 587 Yes!

“You stand up and kick it in the fucking teeth” he said and there was a quiet certain power in his voice that had nothing to do with magic. “You’ve forgotten the most important thing a Knight needs to remember, Butters.”

“What’s that?” I breathed

“Knights of the Cross aren’t afraid of monsters” he said. “Monster are afraid of you. Act like it. Commit to it, hard. And have faith.” pg. 590 Such a good speech.

“But I had faith in my friends

One friend in particular.” pg. 590 My heart :)

“ Ehyeh ašer ehyeh” pg. 594 A quick google search shows that this means I Am Who I Am

Zoo Day

“The man who mostly shaped me was a sadistic monster, and by the time my grandfather came along, Ebenezar wasn’t parenting so much as enticing psychological damage control.” pg. 599 Aw poor Harry :(

“I really really wanted to get this right.” pg. 599 Aw

Of course Maggie likes Star Wars

“She was the most beautiful child I’d ever seen, but everyone thinks that about their kid.

 Maybe everyone is right.” pg. 601 Yes! and my heart :)

“What if I do it wrong?” pg. 601 My heart

“What if…I don’t know. What if I set something on fire?”

“Maybe we’ll roast some marshmallows” pg. 602 Don’t worry Maggie if anyone is going to set something on fire it’ll be Harry. And this marshmallow comment reminds be of the one in Changes

Oh a warlock

“I stared at the kid for a while.

I had been that kid for a while.” pg. 608 Poor Harry poor kid

“Then I did something I don’t do very often: I turned my back and walked away.” pg. 608 What

“She picked up a French fry and dipped it in a large mound of mustard. Not ketchup.

What?” pg. 610 What

“If someone needs your help, you help them.” Maggie said simply “Even when it’s really hard. Miss Molly told me that about you.” pg. 612 Yep

“If I hadn’t been so exhausted, I’d have been just one more warlock slain while resisting arrest.” pg. 613 Interesting

I like all the dad Harry content I’m getting to see

Ohhh we’re getting two perspectives.

Maggie!

“My dad was a pretty scary-looking guy if you didn’t know him.” pg. 621 Aw and it’s always interesting to see other characters perspective of Harry

“Sort of like how grown ups can’t see the creeps” pg. 624

“If I didn’t have to worry about turning into a complete spaz” pg. 625 Aw poor Maggie :(

“Must be because Dad was here, and he really, really liked dad.” pg. 624 Aw

“What if he thought I was, you know? Broken. What if he didn’t want a daughter who was all funny in the head?” pg. 629 Aw poor Maggie I just want to give Maggie a hug

“And then my dad’s head shot up like Mouse when he smells lighter fluid at the Carpenters house, and his eyes flicked around him like big, hungry bear looking for something to tear  into.” pg. 629 Ha

“He should have had his coat. It would have been all swirly, like Batman. Jeans and an old Battlestar Galactica T-shirt just didn’t make the same impression.” pg. 633 I’m glad Maggie likes the coat.

“I interrupted it by throwing salt into its black, empty eyes.” pg. 634 Go Maggie!

“Because what if Miss Molly had told me the kid-safe version of the truth about my dad? What if he wasn’t as good as she said he was? What if he didn’t want to take care of a daughter who had issues? Who was really hard to be around.” pg. 639 Aw poor Maggie

“Hey you, Space Face” pg. 640 Ha

“Good boy, Mouse” pg. 642 Yes good boy!

Mouse looks really cool

Oh interesting that Maggie knows Spanish

Poor Maggie

Three perspectives!

Mouse yes you’re a good dog!

“My Friend was worried he could not be a good father to a little girl, which is ridiculous-but if he wasn’t worried about it, he wouldn’t be the person he is” pg. 652 Aw

“Is my Friend awesome or what?” pg. 659 Yes he is

“My Shadow, it would seem” pg. 661 Interesting

“Brother” pg. 670 Interesting

“Needs must be done?” I asked. “Who talks like that? Honestly.” pg. 673 Ha

“An acquired habit. I can’t imagine where I learned it” pg. 673 Ha

“You are like the others, after all. His slave. I don’t deal with trivial matters. I care nothing for your broken wizard.” pg. 674 No Mouse and Harry are friends and what do you mean broken wizard?

“I assume you’ve never seen The Dark Knight.” pg. 674 Ha and of course Mouse has seen it :)

“I was raised by a wizard. When it comes to fighting, I tend to cheat whenever possible.” pg. 675 Ha

“I told you, everyone says I am a Good Boy and that means treats. But perhaps I would make more time to exercise when this was settled.” pg. 676 Ha

“There was nothing more I could do to help him. I would have to trust to fortune and the Almighty and Queen Mab and Odin and whatever other friendly Powers that might be watching that My Friend would, please, please, please be all right.” pg. 681 Ha

“But what he meant was Good Dog.” pg. 686 Yes!

Dresden files live blog

Monster

“Plus, I’m never sure when she’ll try to kill me again.

It’s complicated” I’m sorry what

Marcone!

“No Valkerye girl Friday?” Ha

Oh someone broke Marcone’s rule they’re gonna die

“There’s another person I could go to.

But even if he believed me and agreed to the job, he would complicate it unbearably. We’d be at war with Canada within the week. Somehow.” Ha and I assume they’re talking about Harry

“There was angels standing guard around another house not unlike this one not three blocks away.” Michael’s house!

“Oh. Yes. People.”

“I keep forgetting them” Viti what do you mean you ‘keep forgetting them’?

“Viti had been a survivor of a training program  whose members had, as the culmination of their training, been assigned to murder one another” Is Viti a red widow?

Poor kids :(

“Viti turned the gun on the kids, who flinched.” VITI NO

“Hey, you know how a nine-hundred-pound Bengal tiger gets into a locked room?

Any damned way it wants.” Ha

“The next day, Marcone, with his big dumb Einherjaren bodyguard.” Who is this bodyguard? Where’s Hendricks? Where’s Gard?

“But grapefruit juice?” Grapefruit? Really? Who willingly drinks grapefruit juice?

“Monster LLC calling for Harry Dresden,” she said “Please tell that there are children who need his help.” Of course they call Harry. This is right up his alley! 

Final thoughts

I liked these stories especially Even Hand and Zoo Days. I loved all the Marcone mentions and his story. I liked the fights and thought the stories were funny. I liked the different perspectives. I want to give Maggie and Harry hugs. I loved all the Dad Harry content I got in Zoo Days. There were so many Bi Harry moments in these. We’re up to 42 moments. Molly’s stories were sad :( Cool that beings exist that only kids can see. Not a fan of some of the things Luccio and Carlos say. I loved Butters first mission. I liked the monster story. I love what Marcone says about Harry. I love that Gary calls Harry. Overall I liked it.

Even Hand

My favorite story. I love the look into Marcone. I do wonder how John Marcone not being John’s Name will play out. Could this name be used against him or used in oaths? Does ‘John Marcone’ hold more weight than his given name now? Who knows his given name? Why did he change it? This does bring interesting ideas with his alliance with Mab and Vadderung. Him being a marine is interesting. Did Marcone serve a full time in the marine? Did he get honorably discharged? Dishonored? What was his rank? I liked how sarcastic Marcone is. He really is a good foil to Harry. I like the 2 Bi Marcone moments. I love that Harry has left such an impression on Marcone with the flimsy doors and the elaborate death trap. I like how Marcone saved both Justine and the kid. I love the Hendricks and Gard moment.

Onto Peace Talk

[tulipsinkships]

closure, tasm!peter parker

He’s standing at your door. After a year of only seeing clips of him on the news, cheesy t-shirts that said “I visited New York and didn’t get saved by Spiderman!” and cute memorabilia. Even after seeing him plastered over every newspaper, you missed seeing the boy under the mask, like sand that was determined to remain in the crevices of you, even though the last time you went to the beach was 5 months ago, you never can seem to remove him from your life.

Instead of the regular blue and red get up, he was back in his hoodie, an outfit you rarely saw and missed so, standing in front of you again with his feet turned in, hands shoved into his pockets. The sounds and voices from the movie you were watching muttered softly in the background and you knew you were gonna have to rewind it all the way back.

You don’t really know what to do. You don’t want to see him because you’ve already jumped through hoops and tripped over a couple hurdles to avoid that, you don’t want him standing in your doorway and you most definitely don’t want him in your apartment.

But he does that stupid cheeky smile and you’re letting him through the door.

The both of you know why he’s here, despite the distance and time put between the two of you, you still knew him like the back of your hand. You know what he wants, and you’re gonna make damn sure he doesn’t get it. Recreating the distance that he decided to make a year ago between the two of you, you move towards the kitchen.

“How about some tea?” You break the piercing silence, pointing to the tea you knew he liked. Even when you try, old habits die hard. He nods and smiles, but in the Peter way where you can tell he’s holding back a bigger grin, glad that you’re not being hostile. There’ll be time for that later.

You start making the tea, getting the kettle boiling and finding the mug he used to use, accidentally falling back into a rhythm you tried so hard to lose. But before you could catch yourself, you’re already pouring the hot water into his cup and yours. And that makes him break his hold on his grin, just a little.

“What are you smiling at,” your eyes flickered over. You force your eyes back onto the mug, not willing to show an ounce of emotion.

“You remember.” He says, taking a seat in one of your chairs. You couldn’t help the frown that formed. You wanted him out of your home not lounging at your kitchen table.

Choosing to ignore his comment and bring him the tea, you take a seat opposite him. Tentatively taking a sip, the two of you remain sitting in your uncomfortable silence. You weren’t going to be the one giving in, he came to you for god’s sake.

Until he says your name. And it feels like hearing god say it for the first time. Bringing your eyes to meet his, you feel a hundred needles poking at your throat and Eros’s grip tightening your chest.

“Hi Pete.” You give in, you could at least give him a smile. And his eyes light up, like it did when he brought you to the top of the Empire State Building and had your first kiss. And he smiles too. He leans in and rests his hands on his palms, absorbing your every feature, for it may very well be the last time he’ll get to see you this close, and he knows it.

But he crosses the border of the man made ocean he built between the two of you, and the alarm bells sound. It’s not safe if he gets this close to your shore, one you’d so carefully built to protect you. You pull back into your chair, gripping the mug between your hands, like your own shield to guard you from him.

“Why are you here Peter.” You finally bite and his face falls, knowing this moment of ceasefire was over. You want to hold him, and cradle his face, so full of regret and disappointment. Despite the resentment you thought you held against him, your heart pawed at you.

“I.. I don’t know, I guess I missed you.” His head dips, apologies he knew he owed you hanging heavy from around his neck. “And I wanted to say that I was sorry, for how I treated you.”

The quiet of your apartment drones on and the voices in the movie pick up, they’ve started yelling at each other. You pick at the hem of your shirt, letting his words lul over you.

“You definitely should be” a strained laugh rushes out. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Anything. Please. You can shout at me, scream at me,” His voice waver and crumbles, “Anything would be better than what we have now.” You can see it in his eyes, his hopefulness when he says that. And for a moment you really almost give in, you want so badly to soak the sadness out of him. Instead you move away from him, reinforcing what space he forced between you and him.

“Oh come on Pete, we can’t go over this again,” you run your fingers through your hair like it would somehow diffuse your frustrations.

“Go over what?”

“This!” You scoff out. You can’t believe he would seriously feign ignorance and pretend like he doesn’t remember the countless times you’ve had this same argument.

“It was so overwhelming being with you. I-… I never knew whether you’d be home safe, or whether you’ll be okay. I know! I know how hard you work protecting an entire fucking city, but sometimes I just wanted you by my side.” Once you got the ball rolling it moved like a freight train that’s been emptied of its brake fluid. “Not all the time but sometimes. Fuck is it so selfish of me to want you to be there for me?.”

He followed you out into your living room, the cups of tea abandoned. You can see his hands are itching to hold you, to comfort you, to be what you needed.

“I just needed you Pete. I needed you to be with me and you were never there.” You cried, words running out so quickly they were trampling over one another. “It felt like I was Spiderman's girlfriend more than I was Peter Parker’s. You think I don’t miss you? I felt like I was in purgatory for half of last year! I miss you too much for this to be healthy and I can’t start all over again.” He moves over to you, and you finally give in. He’s holding you like you were the last thing on this precious earth, holding you like you were grains of salt that would slip out of his hands if he moved too much.

“I’m sorry, I'm so so sorry.” You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for but you do and you sob, letting the tide wash over your shore. He’s cradling your body into his, nuzzling his face into your hair, becoming a cave for your solitudes. But his sniffling is bitter to your ears, a bee sting each time you hear it. He’s crying? He’s the one that brought this onto himself. God he shouldn’t even be here, you feel your anger rising back up to your ears and boiling off. If this were a cartoon, steam would be visibly pouring out your ears.

You untangle yourself from him and stand back up. “You’ve said your sorries, what else do you want,” you almost shout, exasperated.

And his face, oh his face. It was an exact replica of what you imagined a dog looked like if it was just kicked out of its home. You want to go back into his comfort but you don’t. You can’t.

“I- Please…” You know what he’s on his knees for, but he can’t even verbalize it. You’re shaking your head and headed towards the door, silently pleading for him to make this easier. But he’s grabbed your hand.

“I can’t let you go. I’ve tried so many times but I think about you all the time, who you’re with, whether you’re okay. I’ve even altered my routes so I swing by your apartment just to know you’re around me. I just can’t let you go, please don’t make me.” His hands clasped yours, holding onto you like a prayer.

And you had to give in, just one last time.

[jmagnabo92]

Weekend From Hell thoughts

Regarding Tonight’s episode, I have a few thoughts, but I don’t want to spoil anything so it’s under the cut.

The A plot and B plot were like completely different episodes.  

Let’s start with the B Plot - I did like it, but it should’ve been the B plot to some other episode because it makes 0 FUCKING SENSE that 3 of the ghosts would A) be not involved in Pete’s family messages (and why the F are they getting those?  Unless they know about Pete, it makes no sense) and B) be not involved in the Elias has returned plot.  That is something EVERYONE should be involved in.  It’s like how all the ghosts showed up to Pete’s little thing in Pete’s Wife or Trevor’s Memorial - this is ONE of those things that they should all be there for - especially Trevor.

The plot itself was interesting - it just didn’t work in one episode with the A plot for this episode.  I liked the idea that Jay is just as insecure and that Flower could give him good ideas.  Also, I loved Trevor sort of pulling Flower away from Jay and standing between them at the end.  

I felt bad for Jay trying to be apart of Pete’s thing with the ‘family newsletter’ and just like ... it was patronizing and made me feel so bad.

Now, for the A plot, 48 hour furlough from Hell to earn forgiveness and stay above ground is very interesting.  I think they should’ve spent a lot more time on hell and what happens down there and their abilities because being able to send emails above ground is something that SHOULD BE talked about - it’s MASSIVELY powerful.  

Onto Elias-Hetty-Pete plot, first off, I’m sure people will disagree, but Pete is Dumb AF.  I’m sorry but if Little Pete was hurt the LAST thing they’d be concerned about is some family newsletter.  They would’ve CALLED or TEXTED not emailed.  It was dumb and so obvious that it would be a trick. So, tbh, asking Hetty to forgive Elias and live with him for Eternity is ridiculous when he KNOWS how awful Elias has been to her.  

Honestly, I feel like it would’ve been better if it had been Trevor that had made the deal, but he wouldn’t be that stupid.  It would’ve been interesting though to have Hetty struggle because she DOES want Elias to leave but she DOESN’T want Trevor to leave.  THAT would make more sense.  Not that she doesn’t love Pete, but trying to forgive Elias because she loves Trevor would’ve complicated things.

I absolutely hated everyone encouraging her to forgive him for PETE’S sake.  However, I DID like Alberta encouraging her to forgive him for HER OWN SAKE. Because Forgiveness should have been about HETTY not Elias or Pete or anyone else.  

And then to have the whole thing be a waste of time because he CHOSE to leave just makes the episode useless.  Although I did enjoy the can’t sign her name because she didn’t mean it.

Overall, it was an okay episode - I guess I didn’t really it. I started this thinking I liked it, but uh, guess not.  

Final thoughts - annoyed by the unresolved cliffhanger & that Hetty didn’t seek Trevor out considering their relationship about what they should do.  Feel free to chat with me about the episode if you agree!

[dcxdpdabbles]

Cave Boy Danny calls Batman’s costume uncool and the bats lose their minds over it. Also Alfred would totally spoil him in nostalgia. (Maybe by making the batfam let Danny out of the cage…?)

Danny tries his best not to stare at his perceived counterpart or any of the children, convinced he's their dad as a kid. He's not doing an excellent job of it, though, seeing as his eyes flickered around the room against his will.

It's almost as if the more he tries not to stare, the more he glances. It's so weird that Bruce looks precisely what he imagines Dan Phantom would have looked like if he had a human side. Knowing that Bruce and Dan look alike does not settle his nerves.

It makes him feel even more weary of the older man.

He was curious to know if they were the same person because he had made up the name Bruce on the spot since it was the most boring name Danny could think of. Yet, the DNA results showed they were the same person, not due to cloning. He knew what clones' DNA looked like from personal experience.

Especially since Bruce- why did it have to be such a boring, stupid name? Why couldn't he still be named Danny? His own clone kept his name for Pete's sake!- was sending out major Fruitloop vibes.

Not only was he rich with a secret lab underneath his house and dressed in a weird bat costume, but oh no, Bruce ate pizza with a fork and a knife.

Danny's eyes flicker over to the man just as he cuts another piece of his pepperoni pizza without a single movement wasted. He doesn't even look like he's doing it as a joke- no, the man is regal, dabbing his mouth with a napkin every third bite.

What a freak. Danny thinks, folding his pizza slice in half so he can stuff most of it in his mouth in one giant bite. Two of the teenagers gasped as though they just witnessed a natural disaster.

"Philistine." Damian- his counterpart's youngest- hisses. He's glaring at Danny, obviously trying to insult him, but Danny has dealt with bullies all his life. The kid is far too polite in his insults. Damian wouldn't last a day in public schools' playgrounds, that's for sure.

Danny looks him dead in the eye, still chewing, eyes wide and earnest, and responds with a cheerful "Gesundheit."

Damian's face clouds over in disgust. "Do you even know what that means?"

"Philistine is an uncultured person who is hostile or indifferent to the arts." Danny recites without missing a beat. He gives the other boy a pitying frown. "If you don't know the definitions of words, maybe you shouldn't use them. Might get you in trouble one day"

Damian throws a knife at him with a cry of outrage. Danny is not ready for said knife, but his ghost reflections have him moving to the right just in time for the blade to miss his head and impale itself on the back chair of his seat.

It does, however, nick his neck a little. Danny lets out what he hopes is an appropriate scream in response to the pain. He doesn't want them to know about his real name, much less his powers, but it's hard to have proper reaction times when he could already feel his healing ability numb the pain seconds after it happens.

It felt like a small prick of a sticker while walking barefooted in the grass- quick and sharp but over quickly.

Danny blinks at the table for a solid three seconds, before tilting his head as far back as it could go in his seat and letting out an even monotone cry of "aahhhhhhhhhh!"

He wishes he was better under pressure because it felt like he was attempting to impersonate a toad.

"Young Master Bruce!" Alfred- the butler that raised Bruce in their world? So his counter-parts foster dad?- cries out in alarm. He springs up from his seat, rounding the table to be at his side in seats. "My dear boy, are you alright? Does it hurt? Shall I bring the medical kit?"

Danny stops his monotone cry to blink up at the man. "I'm okay. I'm just dramatic."

Alfred's face spams before it settles in a nostalgic, fond expression. "Oh, the memories."

"Leaping Lizards, Batman," Tim whispers, gripping his fork so hard it's bending. He has a manic glint in his eye, with a smile so wide it's splitting his face in two. "Is this what Bruce was like at our age?"

"Yes, Master Bruce did have a very similar personality to our guest".

"I thought Ollie was kidding when he said Bruce was the weirdest kid in school," Dick speaks up, his face reflecting massive glee. "Does this mean it's also true he would tell people he would date them if they could beat him in a fight?"

"Yes. Alfred told me that was the only way I would be allowed to date before eighteen," Bruce speaks up, a hint of a blush appearing on his cheekbones. "I was in a lot of fights."

Alfred laughs, looking far too grandfatherly when he nods. "I would get a call from Gotham Acadamy almost every other day because Master Bruce had fought off would-be suitors. It's why no one bats an eye at his play-boy persona."

"You know what," Jason speaks up, looking thoughtful. "This explains everything about your love life, to be honest."

"Oh, so when you beat up annoying guys hitting on you, it's okay, but when I do it, it's unfair since I have training," Steph complains, making air quotes on the word training.

Bruce frowns at her. "When I was a teenager, I didn't have any of my Bat training, just what Alfred taught me."

"Alfred, the ex-British Secret Service, bulter." She counters.

"Alfred, the ex-medic in the Royal Air Force, bulter," Duke cuts in.

"Alfred, the ex-SAS Commander, Bulter," Dick tasks on with a smile

"Alfred, the ex-Spy Master for the Royal Crown, bulter," Cass cheerfully says.

"Ancients, those poor teenagers," Danny whispers, staring at Alfred in newfound respect and fear. "Did they even have a chance?"

"No, those riff-raff did not" Alfred smiles turning to the older version of Danny. "I do believe Master Bruce once threw Mr.Queen into a dumpster and left him there overnight?"

"I did. Oliver wouldn't accept no as an answer, so I put him in time-out." Bruce responds with a shrug. "If he hadn't been such a crybaby about the black eye, maybe I would have taken him up on his offer to see a movie."

Danny can't believe this. He points an accusing finger at Bruce with an unhinged look of confusion. "You had everyone falling over themselves in a world where bi-sexuality is common, mind you, and you choose to wear the lame-ass weird bat costume by choice? You chose to be uncool when you could have been in the It-Crowd!?"

The Wayne kids choked on their spit as Bruce gaped at him.

"Brucie, you are a riot!" Jason gasps, causing Danny to frown.

"Brucie?"

"Yeah, since there are two of you, I thought calling the smaller one Brucie would make it easier to tell you apart." Jason sighs wiping a tear out of his eye. Next to him, Dick is still howling with laughter.

Danny needs to keep calm and tell them he would not respond to the name Brucie. Instead, he panics and says, "I actually go by Brucie back home. I'm so surprised you know the nickname!"

He needs to get the fuck out of here.

[frozenhi-chews]

Someone Heard Me

Pancake hears a cry for help, and it happens to be Spamton. Spamton meanwhile is caught in a fight, with the threat his friend will be taken from him.

This story happens after this one, so be sure to read that one as well!!

Warning: there is violence in this! Gets a bit graphic. Please be careful (there is dismemberment and eye injury)

It was a bright chill day, the Ad District was a tad crowded today, and yet Pancake cheerfully wandered around the plaza. Backpack strung behind her, a contempt smile on her face as she skipped to the music playing on her headphones.

Earlier that day she got a good haul from dumpster diving, with no run-in from Spamton. Granted the last time she saw him was...about a week ago. The lack of Spamton would have concerned her if he wasn't capable of himself. He was pretty strong. Also wasn't a week ago when she met him at that abandoned diner?

Pancake put one of the headphones behind her ear while wandering into a store. It was a small one, one she visited often. It was the closest thing to a Hot Topic the District had, if the Hot Topic was also stationed in a log cabin. It was welcoming, the green Addison behind the counter waved to her when she walked by, and the music was very reminiscent of 90s alternative. How they were able to play music without Queen knowing was a mystery, but Pancake obviously didn't mind.

The patches was her first stop, actually her only stop when she heard a noise. It was faint, but it was there. She perked up, paused her music, and looked quizzically at the shop owner.

He looked back at her, just as confused, and said "What?"

"Oh, uh, thought I heard a noise'" she said.

"Must've been your music. I didn't hear anything." He shrugged and went back to his book. Pancake shrugged back and was about to turn back to the patches when she heard it again. Louder. Like it was a cry for help.

Alerted, she stood up and made the cashier jump. Before he could get a word out to her Pancake was out the door and into the District.

It was much louder here, with the hustle and bustle of the streets. Yet no one seemed concerned. No one seemed to have heard it. But a lot more people than her should've heard it. She was in a store for Pete's sake, and no one was going to find who needed-

"Help!! Please! Any-"

The sentence wasn't even cut off before Pancake rushed down the street to where it was coming from. An alleyway.

She hoped it wasn't him.

----

Cruel laughter sounded from the three figures above him. His body ached, the crack in his face splintering more as he was dropped. Pain exploded across his face, spreading as he felt more cracks split open. The rest of his body was in agony as well, with what felt like a broken wrist and burns across his chest. The ground was wet, and [so cold.] It would have been relieving if he wasn't in agony.

"That was your best attempt? Awh please Spammy Wammy, you should have known better!" The orange Addison who loved to torture him knelt in front of him, her face mocking him. Her head tilted, her ponytail swinging. "No one is coming to help, you should have realized this by now, gotten it through that thick plastic SKULL of yours!" She picked him up by the neck and slammed him into the wall, accentuating her words, and making his teeth clack together painfully.

"You are disgusting you pathetic dog. Who would help you? Your old fwiends?" Her smile twisted, metallic serrated teeth and lower jaw reflecting the dull light. "Please. Give it up."

The two figures behind her chuckled, two massive Werewires, her partners in crime.

His head throbbed, almost as bad as the insults. He hated how much she loved to gloat over him, glaring back at her.

"Now, Spamton," she spat his name out like it tasted foul, "where is it?"

"I T0Ld yUu P1P, IiiII doN;T [HAAAve youHEARD-] It." His voice was raw, it hurt to speak.

She glared at him and he shrank back from her smell, she'd definitely smoked before she decided to beat him up again. "NO [[kromre]] [Hearing T-]"

"No money? Awwh is that so?" She raised her hand, metallic claws glinting in the low light. Behind her, the Werewires sparked. Spamton's eyes widened while nervously swallowing. He's felt this before, a harsh punishment. He involuntarily jerked as she ran a claw along his cheekbone, the faint buzz of electricity making him wince.

"How bout I sweeten the pot then, hmmmm? Rumor has it you're acquainted with a Lightner. In fact, the Lightner that has been," she rotated her hand as if to find the right word, "roaming around here. Now. If you tell me where she is, I will gladly forgive you of your debt."

A chill ran up his spine. Since when was that a thing? Being familiar with the Lightner? Not to mention, as strong as Pancake was, Pip could easily kill her. The Werewires alone could do her in.

This also wasn't Pancake's [business.] It was his and his alone. As much as he liked- tolerated her, he was terrified what Pip would do to Pancake if she got her claws on her. He briefly wondered what it would be like if Pancake wasn't around anymore. He would never admit it to anyone, but after the meeting in the diner the previous week, he realized she was his stars and sky. He couldn't afford to lose her.

"I HAV [Zero Ideas] whAT Y0U:eR [Talked] BOUT!!!" Spamton spat. "BESizS I D[OOO]Nt [Do You Owe Money-] You 4NYT1NG!!!!"

Pip frowned, disappointed. She snapped her fingers and the Werewires lit up, electricity sparking between her fingers. "Such a loss then. Playing dumb, and denying what I gave you years ago."

"[Eye] [[Pay Now]]d YOu BAcc!!!!" Spamton snarled, squirming and then crying out in pain when she tightened her grip.

"No you didn't! Not all of it!!" Her voice was back to that sickly sweet tone like she was berating a child. He could feel the electricity from where he was as they brightened. "So tell me, where's my money, or where's the Lightner?"

"IF U [laid] A F1NG3R ON-"

"OH so you DO know her!!" She brightened.

He exhaled sharply, realizing what he said. It was a slip, and now she knows. "I M NOT S44YiN A THinG!!" He felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes as her grip tightened again.

"Fair enough. Hope you can lick you-"

Suddenly the sky was bright with pink, accompanied with an ear-splitting shriek. He gripped his head when everything lit up. More noises, explosions, screaming, confusion, wait was he in the air? He doesn't remember falling but he came to in a box a couple moments later. The box was on its side and he used it to cover himself. Everything hurt even more now. His head was ringing, he felt like he was slammed repeatedly into a wall, his wrist felt like it snapped more.

Spamton heard a thud right outside with sizzling. But it...didn't sound like electricity? Wincing, he peeked out.

It was one of the Werewires.

Dying.

He swallowed, grimacing at the smell, like burnt sugar. There was a pink liquid splattered all over their body. Oh, there was the source of the sizzling. He watched in abject horror as he watched the liquid eat away at their flesh. Wait a minute, he recognized that-

He heard shuffling and a shout. Pip was...scared?

Spamton lifted the box more and saw why. In front of his spot was a Monster. Larger than the Werewires. Its back was to him, standing on two legs, with massive wings and multiple tails fanned out behind it, swaying slightly. Oh this day just got so much worse. He barley saw Pip back up in horror.

"Wh- what are you?" She squeaked, the palest orange he's ever seen her be.

The creature's wings dropped. "Wait, you have to ask? Like you can't look at my soul and see who I am?" Wait... "This is the first time someone asked me who I was. Sorry, I'm just used to 'aaa it's a Lightner!' So forgive me-"

"WHAT KIND OF LIGHTNER?!" Pip shrieked.

"I dunno. Definitely not fully human!"

Pancake?! She's HERE?! What, when, why- wait! He inhaled sharply as his heart skipped a beat.

She heard him, didn't she?

-----

Pancake looked down at the orange Addison. She had a ponytail and smelled of cigarette smoke, but was definitely a different Addison. With a metallic lower jaw and teeth, and her left hand had metal claws. And metal bits everywhere. Judging from the dying Werewires she blasted, she used them as conductors. Huh.

Pancake shrunk, shifting to her human self. She was seething, seeing red. Her and Spamton's early spats were one thing, her getting attacked by a random Darkener was another. But this?! Her friend, who was not only homeless but abandoned?! Plus it was one versus three, and three massive enemies at that. Pancake knew Spamton was tough, but this was ridiculous and she came to even the scales.

"Well then," she snarled, twisting her mouth into a snarl, "guess i found out what that cry of help was. Now, I'm gonna make this simple," She leaned in. "Leave. Him. Alone."

"HIM?! That failure of an Addison?! Why did YOU come to his aid?"

"He's my friend," Pancake snarled, her voice dangerously low, "and so I ask you, leave him alone."

"And why should I listen t- AAAAAAHHH-"

Pancake grew tired of this Addison's speech and lunged at her, biting down hard on her shoulder. The other Werewire that hadn't died yet jumped into action, zapping her and causing her to scream. She fell, caught a glimpse of silver, and rolled over just before the Addison's claws pierced the ground. Pancake kicked the Addison in the face and stood up, getting hit by another electricity ball from the Werewire, causing her to stumble. Electricity sparked up her sides, burning her. The smell of flesh was awful, and now her favorite hoodie was ruined.

She turned her attention to the sidekick, launching herself at the brightly colored furball. The Darkener shrieked and tried to throw her off, electrocuting her all the while. The Addison took this as an opportunity to stab her in the side with her claws. Pancake screamed, grabbing the Addi with her tails and slamming her against the ground before falling off the Werewire.

She righted herself, looked at the Addison again, who had also stood up, and lunged.

---

Spamton could barely believe it. She really did come, she really did care. His mind ran with the thought she thought of him the same way he did her. He heard her. And she was in pain, and it was his fault.

It was his fault.

Guilt pricked at him, watching her claw at the Addison while being clawed back.

He often would get mocked, get spit upon, laughed at. He hoped that one day there would be someone who did care, for him. Someone who, after all these years, see him as a person. And. There she was. And she's getting hurt because of him.

Spamton wanted to help, but he was in too much pain. It's something he felt he should have gotten used to. Often being stepped on, having sand thrown at him, having his nose pulled and other injuries. But this time it was harsher, and Pip really wanted to mess with him, to bleed him dry as he was an easy target.

Pancake was a miracle.

Who also got slammed into a wall. He grimaced as he heard a sick snap come from her arm, accompanied with another yelp of pain. She fell and slumped over. Pip sauntered over to her, claws glinting and sparking.

"So you're the Lightner Spamton knows," She drawled.

"Yeah, and what of it?" Pancake wiped a streak of blood off her chin.

"You'll make me some good money!" Pip hummed, grabbing Pancake's chin and tilting her head.

"Oh so you run a black market?"

"Something like that... you are gorgeous!"

"Thank you, I try," Pancake smirked. It always amazed Spamton how Pancake would sass in the face of death. It was like she didn't even care that she would die. "Now you say you're gonna sell me?"

Pip nodded smiling smugly, "that I am." The Werewire moved behind her.

"Yeah one thing though." Spamton saw the inside of her mouth glow a hot pink. Ohhh no, he knew what that meant.

"Hmm?" Pip didn't seem to notice yet, looking at her arms.

Smoke curled out of the corners of her mouth. "Ya gotta catch me!"

She inhaled and the hot pink acid blasted out of her mouth, hitting the other Werewire. Pip had ducked, yelping when she heard the loud blast hit the other side of the alleyway. Spamton could tell she felt the heat.

Then Pancake kicked her square in the chest and pounced on her. He couldn't exactly see what was happening, but he heard them yelling at eachother. Unease and worry squeezed his gut. Pancake seemed a better match than he thought, but Pip still looked to have an advantage.

Spamton's thoughts were shaken as another shriek pierced the air. Pancake and Pip were standing again, glaring at eachother. Pip looked worse, and some of Pancake's clothes were torn, especially her sleeves. Wasn't that one of her favorite hoodies? His brow furrowed, feeling loss for her.

Pip growled as she clenched and unclenched her fist. Stalking closer to the much smaller Pancake who didn't back away. He couldn't see Pancake's face, her back was to him.

"You're so much worse than I thought. BOTH of my Werewires? Dead? You sick scoundrel!"

"Says the one beating up someone who is nearly half MY size!" Pancake snarled back. Spamton winced, he felt that blow to his ego, even if she was right. "How long has this been happening? Is this fun for you? Is he easy pickings because of how small he is? Do you know how pathetic that is?"

"Don't you DARE you little-" Pip drew closer, livid.

"I'm serious! You think you're so high and mighty from what I can tell, and yet you're here with TWO Werewires beating up someone the size of a kid."

Pip wound up her clawed hand. "You stupid-"

"And I- AAAAGH-"

Pip struck Pancake, blood splattering across Pip's face. Pancake stumbled back, clutching her own face. Spamton screamed. Oh gosh. Oh no. Oh [#^$#*]. [She's hurt she's hurt she's hurt she's hurt she's hurt-]

"Blind now ain't ya? Don't think I didn't check what that scar and milky eye meant!" Pip looked down at Pancake, sneering, as Pancake doubled forward clutching her face. "Try to protect your boyfriend now!"

B-boyfriend? Spamton stuttered, heat rising to his face. It probably was an insult, but after everything that happened-

Static clouded his mind, beginning to hyperventilate.

She wouldn't want to see him after this, wouldn't she? She's hurt because of him, of his own business, and she won't see him again. In. More ways than one too. If Pip is correct anyway. Not that it matters-

Pip laughed, "Now if you don't mind I-"

Pancake gripped Pip's arm, then looked up at her with wide eyes. Pip's heart skipped a beat. No she didn't- it was-

"Wrong eye, bucko!" she snarled.

Spamton snapped to attention, eyes wide. Next thing he knew, Pancake latched herself on Pip's shoulder, biting down hard. He could hear the crunch of bone before Pip started screaming. With another twist, the arm cracked off. Pancake pushed Pip on the ground and placed a foot on her chest. Then she did something that would be burned in Spamton's mind.

She tilted her head up, tongues wrapped around the arm, and began swallowing it whole. Pip screamed again, and Spamton winced every time he heard it crack. Within a few seconds, it was gone, and Pancake placed her arms on her knee, leaning forward a bit.

"I have a deal for you, kay? I think I saw you earlier, couple days ago maybe. And I kinda saw that your life will be cut short soon. So how about this? You leave Spamton alone, never seek him out *ever* again, and I will extend your life!" She leaned back, spreading her arms out either side. "How about it?"

Pip squeaked, catching on how royally [&%>#] she was. Her Werewires were dead, Pancake literally bit off and ate her arm, she had nothing left.

"I agree! I agree just let me go!!"

"Alright, alright," Pancake stepped off Pip, watching her shakily stand up, "now you better hold onto those words because I WILL kill you if you touch or harm him in ANY way again. Got it?"

Pip nodded.

"Good. Now scram." Pancake watched as Pip ran down the alleyway, glaring daggers where she disappeared to. When she was gone Spamton saw all the stress and tension leave her, sighing softly. Then wincing and doubling over, grabbing her side.

Spamton cried out and tossed the box as he limped to Pancake, who was kneeling. She looked up and him and grinned. He grimaced.

Up close her injuries looked worse. Her upper arm was bent at a scary angle, he could see (and smell) the [it burns!] marks all over her body, and she was bleeding from where Pip stabbed her. But the worst part was her face. Half covered in blood, streaking down her face, with horrible gashes across her blind eye, which had swollen shut. His stomach flip-flopped.

"OH [[Angel]], WHAT D1D SHE [to-do] y0u?" He approached and placed his hands on her arm.

"What did she do to me? What did she do to you buddy?" She chuckled, trying to move her injured arm.

"NO N0 DON"T!!!!" He snapped his fingers, summoning an angelic miniton who patted her head. Some of her wounds healed, but only partially. He summoned some more, sitting next to her when he felt the exhaustion hit. It was a lot of energy he was using. On her. She needed it more than him, if anything as an apology. Make things up with her. He can't. He can't lose her.

"Awh thanks Spam Bam!" Pancake chuckled, warming his insides. "But...why didn't you do that to yourself?"

"YOU G0T THE [Brunt Force] OF WHA7 HAPPEN3D. AND... I'M. I- [I'm sorry.]"

"Wh- what are you sorry for? And, you're still hurt!" She leaned over, concern painting her face.

"I- YOUER [hurt]. AND IT'S MY

AND IT"S MY

AND IT'S MY

AN D ITS MY

AND UTS MY-"

Pancake placed a hand on his shoulder, snapping him out of it. Her face, her concern, her worry, it made him want to cry. All that was directed to him. No pity, no malice, only care. She cracked a smile. She looked worse for wear. He tried to ignore the swirling emotions in his gut in place for her friend.

"Don't worrry Spam Bam, I'll be fine I sw-" to his horror she fell in front of him.

Spamton yelped, heart pounding, rushing over, patting her cheeks and summoning more angels, near hyperventilating. Stressing. Crying. "DON7 DIE...[pretty please]...doNT D13...oN M3.."

Then he got an idea.

----

Pancake shifted, a minor pain in her head. Face. She'd need to take some pain pills or... something. But she didn't want to get up. She was cold, and that meant outside was colder. And she didn't want to be cold.

She grunted and shifted again, this time on her side, wondering what she was gonna have for breakfast. Inky would be at her face any minute and why can't she get comfortable. She opened her eyes, already narrowed, when she saw a blue wall.

Wait.

She sat up in a panic, then groaned as pain flaired in her head and side, clutching both. It was then when she realized how much everything hurt. And she couldn't move her arm; it was bandaged. Pancake began to try to lift it again when a voice halted her.

"WHOAA WHO4!! SLOW DO WN TH3RE [[Nelly!!]]" A figure appeared at her side, with a voice only one person could have. A hot bowl of...something was placed in her lap as Spamton sat down next to her. Her heart skipped a beat, her face feeling warm, but she pushed it down best she could.

"YOU [[Take Two]] QU1TW A [Beat It Out] A COUPLE D4YS AGO!!"

Pancake stopped, the spoon he gave her halfway between her and the bowl. "A. Couple days?" She looked over at him, who grinned nervously and wrung his hands. He looked better, the cracks somewhat healed. But he didn't look completely better, a shadow of apprehension in his eyes. And tear streaks?

"YEEEP!! [Tuesays] AGO YOU [[Knock em Dead]] 4 FEW ENEMIES OF [Mine]!!!!"

Oh right that did happen. The orange Addison, the two Werewires. Spamton.

Pancake finally looked around at her surroundings. On her other side was a desk. And the wall was bright blue. So this must be-

"Why am I at your store?"

"EAHEAHEAH, PLACE F0UR YOU 2 [Rest In Peace] MY [[Friend Request Accepted]]!!" He patted her shoulder a couple times.

"Wait wait wait-" She looked back at him.

"WEE3LLLL YOU CAME EHEN I NE3 EDED [can someone help me?] [[Best thing to do-]] I C0ULD DO WAZ LET U STAY HEAR!!!"

"Oh, Spamton-"

"AND RHATS NOT ALL!! [Click Here!!] WE^RE R1DE OR D1E !!@" He was grinning brightly. He was sweating. Scared. She looked down at the bowl of what she assumed was soup.

"You okay?"

"NEVRR BETTER!"

"Spamton, I can tell when you're lying."

He inhaled sharply, his hands gripping his shirt. Static clouded his glasses. "DON-D0N T HAT3 ME..."

Pancake's brows furrowed, "why on earth would I hate you? Spamton-"

"YOU [[Got Caught in the Crossfire]]!!! HU RT!! TRYIN TO [someone help me!!] AND I THOIGJT, I [thought you would-]"

"Spamton, I *wanted* to help you. If someone was gonna beat up my best buddy, I'm gonna beat them up! If I didn't I wouldn’t have come when you called."

"BUT-"

"No buts," She placed a finger on his teeth. "I care about you, and if I get hurt in the process of protecting you, at least you won't get hurt. Or, well, more hurt."

His breath hitched, looking up at her with what she called sheer adoration as his glassed returned to their pink and yellow shades. With a blushing face to boot. Like he couldn't believe it. That she wasn't angry at him. He...genuinely does care it seemed.

He tentatively leaned against her, which she reciprocated best she could. Soaking up his warmth. Trying to ignore the fact they were touching and how cozy he felt and her own heart doing jumping jacks.

"Who was that Addison?"

"EAHEAHEAHEAH... pIP... DON-T. WANT TO [Chit-Chat] ABOUT IT."

Pancake shrugged. "Fair enough." She took a bite and her eyes widened. It WAS soup, soup from the Color Cafe. "Spamton, where did you get this?"

"YOI ASK TOO MANY [[Q&As]]."

*He did steal it!' she smiled at him. "Mhm suuuure!" nudging him playfully.

"HEE EY Y, WATCH IT [Toots!]" Spamton smirked back at her. She laughed, feeling her face warm.

"Thank you Spamton. I can't tell you how much this means to me." Spamton looked up at her. Pancake's heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened. Spamton's head titled.

'Oh dear'

"WhATS [The Sky Is Up]?"

'I really am that dense.'

"I-it's nothing."

'I think I love him.'

"YA SUR3??" He smirked.

*And it took someone beating the crap out of me to realize-'

"Yeah I'm just thinking. You're patching me up, hah! Uh, wondering how long I'm staying here."

'Don't make it obvious don't make it obvious don't-'

"HAHA WELL THEN!!! th4T SO? [Catch Some Z's] CUZ YOUR ST4YIN HER E A WHI LE!!!!"

Well, being this close to what she assumed is her crush, which explained so much as to why she cared so much and thought about him, that would not be a problem.

Still, if she can help it. Especially with THIS realization. She grinned at him, to which he stared back confused and kind of afraid.

"Does that mean I get to hug you more often?"

----------

Hope ya enjoyed!! Reblogs appreciated

Tagging: @dwdoesarts @speedstershipping @eternally-smitten @to-neet-you-nice

[sonofshin]

If you were to return, would you still be Yun? Cause last that I checked you had given him away to someone else and literally said you didn't want anything to do with him anymore. I thought you actually hated your own muse and all that was regarding him to simply throw him away like that.

And if that's the case, do you think returning to tumblr / this fandom would actually be healthy for you after all that happened, in the long run?

Do you WANT me to come back? Do you want me to come back with Yun?

I did give him away. Ahri mun is taking good care of him.

I don't want anything to do with him anymore. This is, by the way, not an uncommon phenomenon after a fight. Someone I consider one of my best friends disliked their character for months after a fight between us, even after we made up.

Due to the conversation between me and Egg, I did end up hating Yun. I hate the character I put 5 years of hard work into.

And how can I not? I was approached with the idea that Yunnie and Robin shouldn't know each other anymore to help settle discourse. I found out that Yun, in his jealousy and anger over basically being called a pet, made her feel uncomfortable as a creator. Obviously that does not feel good to hear at all since it came out of left field for me. The characters had been interacting in very organic ways up until that point. I had given openings for Robin to explain the dragon pet comment, but since he didn't, Yun continued to be angry and bitter, which Yun even explained. To me, it had just been some character development. To her, it had been a personal attack on the character coming from me, the mun, instead of the character. (I found that out a little later) That feels incredibly shitty. That feels like I can't write my character right. That feels like the character I wrote is a fraud. A failure. Apparently, I wrote Yun so badly that the line between me and him blurred. That does not make me want to keep him. That makes it all feel very dirty.

Of course, that's not all that happened. There are SO many reasons I can name as to why I no longer enjoy Yun. But I won't let this drag on.

And no, I will not be coming back to this fandom. I've been in this fandom for about 7 years, probably more. I would call that a really long run already. I've been through big and small dramas and stuck with all of you. Drawn for free. Tried to help in any way I could. And if me giving away my fictional muse can shake so many people's trust in me, then it's probably not the place for me.

If I come back to Tumblr, then it's literally only to interact with friends. For Pete's sake I made Codei's entire blog so I could interact with one person, lmao

[martianbugsbunny]

OUAT Thoughts Pt.34--Episodes 4-5

I have watched through S4E5; spoilers DNI. Also, spoiler warning for anyone further behind than I am.

—How can anybody keep a straight face about that funky lil hat? If Rumple ever actually wears it I will no longer be able to take him seriously.

—The Sorcerer’s Apprentice got turned into a mouse I CANT EVEN

—Are we never actually going to see the Sorcerer? If he could create a hat this powerful, he must be something else.

—I love that Rumple enchanted a broom to do the thing! Sorcerer’s Apprentice is hands-down one of my favorite Disney cartoons, so any reference to its iconic bits delight me.

—How can nobody see the Snow Queen’s castle? It’s an ice palace! IN THE MIDDLE OF A FOREST! And a thing like that has got to generate some kind of supercool temperatures around it, so it should be pretty obvious when anybody gets close to it.

—The Snow Queen’s weird obsession with mirrors is an interesting nod back to the original Snow Queen story. Which, in itself, has some pretty solid themes.

—That backstory stuff with Emma and her buddy Lilith is fruity as heck.

—So the Snow Queen was Emma’s foster mom? Oh, the intrigue! The question still remains: did she know who Emma was at the time? It seems almost impossible for it to be that big of a coincidence.

—I enjoy a bit of leg as much as the next person, but Elsa needs some new clothes. Her dress simply isn’t practical in Storybrooke. But she could keep the sparkly purple cape, I wouldn’t mind.

—On the other hand, it kinda makes me sad that Hook is out of his pirate clothes. Those are mostly practical, and they’re quite dashing.

—I can’t believe Will Scarlett is actually of some narrative significance. I’ve watched the Disney Robin Hood where they’re all animals, and I’m not sure he was even in that one; I’ve also watched Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, in which he happens to be one of the main draws for me. His part in the story seems to be largely variable. The Wonderland stuff has some potential; the drawing he tore out of the book was, I think, of the Red Queen? Which might have cool implications if he’s actually from Wonderland, given his last name.

—If Hook ever risks his relationship with Emma to take Rumple down, I’m gonna mad. Mostly because I am now ride-or-die for CaptainSwan, but also because if Rumple’s marriage falls apart I will cry.

—Emma’s date-night dress was gorgeous. I love Elsa being confused about how little of it there was, compared to Arendellian fashion—but then again, has she looked in a mirror lately?

—Snow and Charming mother-henning about Emma’s date with Hook was adorable. I love when the Charmings get to have normal domestic moments like that.

—We’ve seen how much Hook cares for Emma—he traded the Jolly Roger to help her, for Pete’s sake! (Which is peak romance if you happen to be dating a pirate captain.) Having Emma show him some of her childhood keepsakes was a good way to balance out their relationship and show that she trusts him and cares for him too.

—It’s not such a big deal that Will escaped and got pardoned, considering he was in jail for a pretty minor offense and was apparently being kept there for longer than he should have been.

—I kinda wish the other Snow Queen had a hair color other than blonde. It’s a classic, but it might’ve been more interesting to give her dark or ginger hair. Heck, maybe even just straight white would’ve been cool. Or pale blue. Or light purple. Her dress is pretty, though.

—Regina and Emma being grudging frenemies is amusing. I love how salty they are around each other.

—I’m not sure how I feel about the turn Henry’s taken. Snooping around Rumple’s store is one thing; using the ‘connection to Baelfire’ card to manipulate his way into a job there is another. He’s definitely Regina’s kid.

—Elsa’s story kills me, especially in Frozen 2 (I cry at Show Yourself every frickin time) but this version hits a bit harder. Her parents actively searched for something to change her so she would be “normal.” It’s kinda the next logical step for them, seeing as they were pretty crappy parents in Frozen to begin with, but it’s so much worse. Good golly.