#gts!matt

[phone4pills]

so i'm obsessed with stalker!reader and goodytwoshoes!matt tell me everything!!!

YAY ! What do you guys want to know ?? I’m starting a draft on them rn but yeah. Here’s some facts to keep in mind I guess.

— “How is gts!matt different from nerd!Matt ?”

Matt is not shy, he just doesn’t mind being alone. He’s quiet and collected, sure but he’s not anti-social. His closest friends are his brothers Nick and Chris but he has loads of friends at chess club and he has buddies at the library.

He and stalker!reader clicked pretty quickly and he has a lot of trust in her. He likes being asked questions because he has a lot to tell people. He can talk for hours about his stamp collections and his vintage comic books. And she’s willing to listen. She wants to know everything about him.

— “Is stalker!reader creepy?”

Kind of. Any kind of stalking is strange, having an obsession that deep could be considered dangerous. But she would never sought out to hurt Matt in any way. Not intentionally at least. But some of the things she does are not normal. Like taking little things from Matt and making excuses to be around him.

— “Are they dating? Will they ever date?”

No. They are just friends. And in this AU they will probably remain that way. Of course, Matt doesn’t know just how obsessed you are with him. They may do more intimate things but they will most likely never enter a romantic relationship.

[11oh1]

[threshasketch]

Matt found Tiny!Near. Probably good that Mello didn't find him first, huh? (Sequel to this pic.)

[ittybluebell]

Roommate | Daredevil G/T | Chapter 1

AO3

Next

Matt Murdock didn't have anything against mice. He'd never been personally harrassed by one, but he understood the need to get rid of them. One easily turned into a dozen and with all the mess and digging into food, eviction was necessary. Despite how many rodents he heard daily, it wasn't something he thought about. The only reason mice were on his mind now was because one had moved into the floor, and he could hear it moving around as he laid in bed.

Now, like he said, Matt didn't have anything against mice.

Scrtch-scrtch-tick.

This one, however, was pushing its luck.

It showed up one night, moving in when he was out vigilante-ing and he only noticed the next day. At first, he didn't care. It was alone and hadn't yet realized there was food in his apartment. He had other, more pressing issues than a single mouse. It was a benign little thing - hardly a problem. Most nights, he could ignore the pitter-pattering and scraping or put in his noise-canceling earbuds.

Tonight, the mouse was too loud for earbuds. As he tossed and turned, Matt fumed, wondering what that rodent could possibly be up to. Rearranging furniture? Fuck, it sounded like it. Little mouse furniture.

Enough was enough. Matt threw a pillow at the floor and told the thing to shut up. To his surprise, it did. Matt sighed and finally went to sleep.

From that night on, he noticed a drastic decline in his downstairs neighbor's noise pollution.

How silly it was, Matt thought during a good mood, holding a grudge toward an animal. Especially one that was polite enough to let him sleep in peace.

Oh, how naïve he was.

The mouse quickly reinstated its grudge status when Matt noticed things going missing. It started with the bagels - a hole in the bag he noticed because the scent of bagel was particularly strong. Upon investigation, he discovered there was a complete lack of crumbs. And a chunk discreetly chewed from the middle. From there, things escalated. He smelled the shift in the air, smelled the remnants of another living being in his apartment. Little objects went missing - things even a seeing person might miss. But not Matt Murdock.

The sock was the last straw.

"What's the best bait for mouse traps?" Matt asked as soon as he entered the office.

"Cheese?" Foggy answered, confused. "Why? Do you have mice?"

"One. One mouse."

"How d- nevermind. Let me guess - you can't sleep."

"It's taking my stuff."

Foggy laughed. Karen huffed.

"At least tell me you're using non-lethal," said Karen. Upon his silence, she aww'd sadly. "Matt, no. It's just a mouse. You can't kill it."

"They're pests," said Foggy.

"But they're so cute. It just wants a place to live."

"Karen-" started Matt.

"No, no, she's got a point." Foggy spun his chair around. "Matt, you can't kill it! So cute and fuzzy!"

The lawyer-by-day, vigilante-by-night groaned. "Fine, I won't. Just stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Foggy, I can feel your eyes fake-tearing up."

Matt bought some glue traps and baited them with peanut butter. When Karen told him glue traps were worse - "They're so inhumane, Matt!" - he assured her that he'd know when the mouse got stuck; it wouldn't suffer. As much as the thing annoyed him, Karen was right: he wasn't going to abandon his no-killing rule for one mouse. (One mouse that must have a vendetta against him. He would not stoop to its level.) What kind of hypocrite would he be, huh?

The traps were set. Now to wait.

And wait.

A week passed. No mouse was caught. When he listened to its movement, he realized it was avoiding the spots he'd trapped. Avoiding the usual routes.

Smart. For a rodent. But Matt was smarter.

More traps, different bait. Traps disguised as the food and objects he'd noticed go missing, even the mate to his missing sock. It couldn't resist now.

Days passed.

Evidently, it could resist.

Foggy teased him about being outsmarted by an animal. Karen was on the mouse's side. Somebody must've told Jessica because he got a condescending text offering her services. Traitors, every one of them.

It all came to a head one terrible Friday night. Matt was already in a bad mood when he got home from work but going out, hearing and feeling New York City, pushed him over the edge. He was annoyed, his brain was overstimulated, and he just wanted to rest. The rooftop access door shut behind him and he threw his helmet into its trunk, about to shed the rest when the distinct sound of scratching and plastic crinkling in the kitchen cupboard caught his ear.

Matt stilled. It was here.

He marched with purpose toward the sounds.

That little bastard wasn't getting away this time. Catching it would be a satisfying end to a crappy day.

The mouse started fleeing before he was even close. It was headed for the other end of the cupboards - a hole in the floor Matt wasn't aware of but now could sense the air flowing from within. He'd have to seal that in the mor-

Mice didn't run on two legs.

Matt cocked his head, listening to the pattern of footfalls. He'd never cared to pay attention, but now it was impossible to miss. He knew what scurrying rodents sounded like. Whatever was in his kitchen, it was no rodent. It was bipedal. A bird? No, not with that speed. Not with that gait. He needed a closer examination.

Matt threw open the cupboard door. The first thing to hit his senses was the scent of corn chips.

The second was the heartbeat.

The creature's heart pounded swiftly in its chest. Air rushed from a mouth that was too upright for any kind of animal, a nose too humanlike. Small shoes hit the baseboard as it ran. Fabric rustled the same way he heard every single day in the street - like clothing.

Matt got lower, needing to be closer, needing to examine this little anomaly. How it moved, how it sounded, how uncannily familiar it was.

The living shape that his senses created was so alike to people that he was too shocked to outwardly react.

The little thing escaped into the floor, and Matt Murdock was left crouching there. Slowly, he shut the door. He took off the suit, dressed his wounds, and went to bed, his mind racing.

His body was exhausted, but he couldn't sleep. Not when he was tracking the creature's movements. Every scrape, every soft thud of a step, the whisper-

Whispering?

"You're fine. He didn't see you. There's no way…"

Whispering. Okay.

Matt pretended he didn't hear anything and put in his earbuds. That was a tomorrow-Matt problem.

Unfortunately for tomorrow-Matt, another problem knocked on his door first. That problem rhymed with Stank Hassle and didn't like to be ignored. Frank did offer coffee when they left so at least it wasn't a total bust. It was a good opportunity to get Matt out of his head; to get a clear perspective of the night before. Matt decided he was exhausted and hallucinating. The alternative was a tiny person living in the walls of his apartment. Delusion was easier.

Delusion was also what kept the borrower from abandoning the apartment altogether.

Call them stubborn, or stupid, but Finch didn't want to leave. Borrowers could only get so lucky. Landing a decent apartment with an oblivious bean was a rare opportunity, and Finch had no intention of giving it up. They would use this good fortune. Even if they didn't deserve it.

Finch shook off the guilt following that thought.

They spent the first week setting up: finding a place to sleep and tidying it up, living off the rations they packed. They got a lay of the land, surveying the apartment and its infrastructure. The excessively bright billboard directly in front of the living room window, the kitchen, and - most importantly - the bean. Light - or lack thereof - was never an issue for him. Not once did he flip a switch or so much as use his phone, which read texts aloud to him. He hardly looked at whatever claimed his attention. Everything added up to limited vision, but they couldn't be sure. It was safest not to risk any assumptions.

Evidence pointed to some damn good hearing when Finch was carving planks of wood out of the floor's innards. They were minding their own business, content with their repetitive, calming task, when something large and loud impacted the ceiling a dozen paces away.

The borrower nearly jumped out of their overalls, giving a startled squeak.

"Shut up," yelled the muffled voice above.

Pretending their soul wasn't just violently expelled from their body, Finch smoothed down their curly brown hair and exhaled shakily, making a mental note to postpone noisy work till the bean was away.

And they did good on that: when the bean was home, Finch completed the quieter, slower tasks. They thought they'd discovered the formula for living under the radar, satisfied to have found a routine that worked.

Then the traps appeared. Finch cursed their luck. The jig was up. The bean set up gross glue traps in outer access points, a couple even getting to the paths Finch took. Finch avoided them and laid low for a bit, hoping the lack of activity would convince the bean they'd skipped town. But more traps appeared. Smart ones, too - they almost fell for a couple. Now, Finch knew a thing or two about a thing or two. They made new routes and took extra care when borrowing. They even started mapping paths to the apartments below. Despite their small stature, Finch had a lot of room for determination. After a life of sticking their hand in the fire, they learned to take the heat. If the bean wanted them gone, he'd have to try a lot harder.

Night fell. The bean was gone. He followed routines - ones he scarcely strayed from. It would be hours before his return.

Finch made their way to the kitchen. They pushed up the trapdoor and strolled through the cupboard. They still had to be careful: just because the human wasn't home didn't mean they could throw all caution to the wind. Leaving evidence was a massive negatory. Finch didn't care for stupid rules, but the rules of borrowing were locked in their brain. They were already careless with the bagels, something they couldn't afford again. Desperation wasn't an excuse for sloppy borrowing - not when it exposed them.

Finch observed the boxes and containers around them, reading labels and calculating risk and reward. There was no chance of getting into that cereal box, but the nutrition bars would be a good grab. The box was short and already open. Finch pushed a can of tuna against it and hopped on. They began extracting a bar only to realize they had no way of getting something so large home without a sled.

"No, that'd be too easy." With a huff, Finch dropped it and shoved the can back into place. "'cause food can never be-" plastic crinkled under their foot "-easy?" Finch inspected the blue packaging. It was an open bag of tortilla chips. They grinned.

The scent of corn chips filled the space as Finch unfurled the bag. They dropped their backpack and started breaking the triangular chips into smaller pieces. Salt-free, too? Hell, yes. They tested the backpack's weight, put a bit more inside, then pulled the strings tight. They slung the strap across their chest. Oh, yeah, this would last them a good while. Finch fought with the chip bag, trying to roll the top underneath like it was before.

"Come on. Stupid fuckin'-" They tried to simultaneously lift the heavy bag and pull the other end.

Over the sounds of plastic popping and crackling in their ears, Finch didn't hear a door open and shut.

DOOM.

They did, however…

DOOM.

…feel the approaching footsteps of the human bean.

Finch froze. Blue eyes snapped wide open, their head flinching away from the plastic. It couldn't be...

Finch bolted.

He's supposed to be out why is he back-

DOOM.

They didn't need to know why he was back - just that he was and he was approaching at an alarming rate.

DOOM.

Oh, fuck, that's actually really close-

The doors ripped open. The hinges didn't even get a chance to squeak.

Finch stumbled. Air caught in their throat. For a moment, Finch was rooted to the floor. Just a moment. Long enough to see the human's form towering beyond the counter, covered in some kind of dark red leather. Long enough to see boots more than capable of squishing the life out of them.

Legs like fenceposts bent as the human came unbelievably closer. Closer than Finch had ever been to a bean. A giant face suspended above them, features blank and expressionless. Not once did the bean look at them.

Finch ran. They didn't look back. When they reached the hole in the floor, they plugged it up and kept going. Keep running.

Only when they reached the safety of their shelter did they falter.

"Oh, shit," they gasped, resting their weight on a nearby post. If their heart didn't outright stop, they were sure it might burst from their ribcage. Finch felt that exploding was a reasonable response. "He didn't see me." The scene replayed in their mind, over and over like a glitched tape. "I'm fine. You're fine. He didn't see you. There's no way he saw you. Just breathe."

Delusion, like they said. It was a powerful thing. It pulled many tricks on the mind. Like convincing oneself that they weren't discovered.

The apartment was quiet. Too quiet, one might even say, if they weren't one Matt Murdock. He never got that phrase. Nothing was 'too quiet'. In his - correct - opinion, nothing was quiet enough. There was always something creaking, breathing, or thumping, even in the smallest hours of the night. But on some front he had to agree: there was a suspicious lack of activity from the critter in the floor lately. Reluctant as he was to admit it, he couldn't deny that it wasn't an animal. Animals didn't mutter to themselves, in full sentences, in English. He wasn't mentally, emotionally, or spiritually prepared to assess beyond whatever that meant. In the moments his mind wandered, however - such as now, sitting and listening to a recording for his current case - he found himself pondering the tiny being regardless.

The peace wasn't an accident. Finch had been avoiding that place, giving themself and the air time to settle. They continued work on their residence, slotting together panels of wood and cardboard to form walls. One room would do for now - they just needed protection from the elements and potential scavengers slinking around. Skies above, if a cockroach tried anything, it was next on the menu. Grind up the little fucker into a smoothie. Finch wished a bug would: it'd be miles better than those godforsaken tortilla chips. Finch gave the wood posts they'd just secured a good push, nodding in satisfaction and moving on to the wall. It would be the last one to seal up their box of a house.

Four days. It'd been four days since Finch was nearly discovered; four days since they stared a bean in the face and got away unscathed. Four days since they got an answer to what they'd only suspected: the human couldn't see. That explained the brilliantly bright billboard, the sensitive hearing, the lack of lights - it explained a lot. Finch had to re-evaluate their approach to borrowing. This human would be extra careful about his possessions - the sock was proof enough - and notice what was out of place. In some ways, this both simplified and complicated things.

But borrowers were nothing if not adaptable.

Finch ventured up to a peephole in the wall and looked out. Nothing had changed except the bean now sitting at the dining table, papers and an electronic box neatly laid out on the tabletop. Casually dressed, he was listening to… a podcast? No, too personal. Finch liked podcasts. There was a crime involved, but this sounded like a conversation Finch would overhear more than something designed to entertain. So this bean worked in solving crimes. A detective?

They listened to the dry as hell audio a scant longer before growing bored and moving on. Hey, at least the bean was preoccupied.

Naturally, they found themself puttering toward the kitchen. Wielding two bent nails tied to their belt, Finch climbed up the cupboard door, using hinges and decorative bevels alike to hoist themself up. Those bagels were good. Were there any left? Nothing but corn chips really wore down a person's capacity to give a damn. They perused the counter, confident that the bean was sufficiently distracted by his work. Finch was disappointed to find the bagels sealed in an airtight container. It was their own fault, slicing up the bag so messily. They pulled a face and resumed their search.

A plate of mostly-eaten pasta sat before them. Fuck yes! Finch scuttled to it, pulling out rolls of tinfoil from their bag. Careful to avoid crinkling, they gathered up all the leftover noodles and sauce that would fit.

Finch squirreled away their haul, licking their fingers clean of evidence and ignorant of the man listening to their heist just a few metres away.

Matt stopped paying attention to the tape some time ago.

The sounds of Hell's Kitchen couldn't drown out the little inhabitant in his walls. A scent had blown into the room, vaguely familiar with hints of tortilla chip. He sat straighter and listened, idly shuffling papers and tip-tapping his fingers on the table. He found himself unable to be anything other than impressed as they scaled his counter like a mountain climber. Whatever was left from dinner became his visitor's latest plunder. That was fine; less waste, right?

He was disappointed when they returned to the walls. He wound back the recording to get some work done, but found himself consistently distracted by his small neighbour's goings-on. This discovery was just so unique, so strange - how could he not be curious? He heard them venture out again, across the apartment now. Into his bedroom. What could they be doing?

Oho, if Matt found any more socks missing-

He turned in his seat, about to rise, when he heard:

"You hafta to be shittin' me."

The voice, quiet in size only and bold beyond that, was the mildly annoyed tone of someone who'd been inconvenienced. Matt had heard it before, in the late hush of the night, when no one else would. Muttered curses and remarks that blended into the creaking and groaning of buildings and chatter and sirens of the city. One voice that Matt Murdock had tried very hard not to think too much about.

"When is enough too much, huh?" the voice griped. "Does he think I'm just gonna lay on one? 'Oh, felt silly today, stepped on the massive rug of glue.' How 'bout I drag this onto your floor, see how you feel walkin' in a minefield?" They growled. "UGH. Beans."

Well.

There was no denying it anymore, was there? A tiny person was living in the walls of Matt's apartment.

Matt leaned back, processing. He'd tried ignoring it - for the sake of his mental health and faith - because it was insane. It was impossible. It shouldn't be.

And yet…

Matt wanted - needed - to investigate further.

He got up, quietly, light on his feet. He didn't make it two steps before he heard a swear and the tiny person retreated once more. Into an electrical outlet, by the sounds of it.

Hm. He couldn't sneak up on them - not this time. They heard him- no. Matt quirked his head, considering. They felt him approaching. Like Matt, they could feel vibrations. Vibrations that alerted them of a threat. It only made sense.

Heh, 'threat'. Regular ol' Matt Murdock was the threat this time, not his alter ego. Wasn't that something?

The next time Matt encountered his new neighbour, he was trying - and failing - to fall asleep. There was too much on his mind for sleep. Frustrated, he huffed and flopped over, restless, his thoughts racing. Sounds of the city were extra distracting tonight. He considered getting up and making a cup of tea - maybe that would calm his mind.

Noises from the kitchen drew his scattered focus. He sat up, listening to the scuffing and tapping that he'd come to recognize as his uninvited houseguest. Three visits in one day. Were they always this proactive? Well, he did interrupt their attempted heist of his bedroom. Matt scooted to the edge of the bed. He would make that tea, actually. As he stood, he remembered sneaking didn't work last time. Right. Heavy-footed. However, he had a hunch that this attempt would yield a sneakier result.

Aided by socks, Matt softly padded through his apartment. Tiny - the name he assigned his little visitor - was fiddling with some kind of packaging on the top shelf. And as he got closer, lo and behold, they did not startle. His theory was correct: the further Tiny was from the floor, the weaker their pallesthesia became. Their ability to detect vibrations just wasn’t as sensitive as his own. Once he stepped foot into the kitchen, Matt dropped the Daredevil act and let himself be known. He grabbed a mug and turned on the kettle. Tiny's pulse quickened; their breath hitched. He gave them time to hide before he opened the cupboard for a tea bag. He quickly realized the box wasn't in its usual spot - his own doing, unfortunately.

"Stupid tea bags," he muttered for Tiny's sake; an 'I'm not looking for you, I swear!' assurance as he searched the cabinets. For extra sauce, he added, "Always misplacing them."

Would he forgo tea? He did start the kettle… as much as he got a kick out of playing the part of oblivious blind guy, causing Tiny undue terror wasn't his end goal. He wanted to test them, their cockiness, not scare them. Tiny may be a thief, but they were just trying to survive. Why else was food their number one haul? Matt dedicated his life to helping people in need. Wasn't Tiny part of that demographic? Weren't they someone in need? Unless small people were running drug cartels and trafficking rings, Tiny was innocent.

Doubt and guilt crept in. Maybe he was pushing the bit too far.

Matt was just about to get up and leave when something square and coarse pressed into his fingers.

He faltered, then pinched it, rubbing his thumb over the material. Its strong, earthy scent gave it away.

A tea bag.

Small shoes lightly retreated. Matt withdrew his hand. He held the sachet of dried herbs, cogs turning in his mind. He tilted his head.

Tiny handed him a tea bag. That…

Matt found himself puzzled and oddly touched. It was for their own good, to avoid getting found, but he couldn't not appreciate the nice gesture. He easily smelt where the tea was, of course. But Tiny didn't know that. Huh.

Maybe he was being too harsh about the sock.

The kettle's bubbling pitch rose to a squeal. Wincing, Matt shut it off. He dropped the tea bag into the mug and poured steaming water over it.

What a strange experience. He wondered what Tiny was thinking. Their heartbeat eased into the fluttering pace that he learned was its resting rate. It was the trait that had him most convinced his roommate was a rodent of some sort, though the way they squeaked when startled was a close second.

Matt threw out the tea bag and took the mug to his room, leaving Tiny to their task.

The next day, he casually slipped questions about tiny people into a conversation with Foggy. (It was not casual and quite random, actually.)

"You mean, like… fairies?" Foggy cautiously asked.

Sort of? Matt didn't know whether Tiny could be considered a fairy. They certainly didn't seem like the fairy type, not with the kind of language he heard them utter. Did fairies say 'fuck'? Would that break some kind of fairy law?

Karen told him about a book series that she'd been obsessed with as a kid: it contained many smaller magical beings. Brownies, for instance. Matt settled on definitely not that one. What favours was he receiving? Aside from the tea bag - an isolated incident - absolutely none.

Matt wasn't convinced they were a magical creature. Really, they just… seemed like a normal person, albeit smaller. They hummed to themself, snickered at their own dumb jokes, and swore a hot streak that would impress even Castle and Jones. Matt was pretty damn sure they'd been building a house under his floor, though he noticed all the loud busywork was put on pause when he was home, most notably when he was sleeping. Another nice gesture that was also for their own self-preservation.

Maybe they were a mutant. Or maybe they were mutated, like him.

When Matt got home, he discarded the glue traps. It felt wrong to leave them now that he knew it was a person he'd been trying to catch. Guilty, he started leaving crumbs in easy-to-reach locations. It wouldn’t hurt him any - his grocery budget wasn’t gonna tank because of some scraps. If chips and leftovers were what they were after, then they had free reign over the countertop. That didn’t stop him from being cheeky about it, though - if Tiny was getting confident, he might as well play along.

He found Tiny’s courage something to marvel at. Roaming a giant’s home? Without fear? His vigilante persona was literally named Daredevil and he was impressed.

However, bravery and foolishness were not mutually exclusive. That’s when the cockiness came in.

Matt was minding his business, washing the dishes, when Tiny wandered out. Brows hitching up, he continued sponging the plate. Surely, they wouldn't-

Oh, but they did.

Unwavering, Tiny climbed up the counter they same way as before. They walked up to the pan on the stove and hooked a leg over. Matt fought hard not to chuffle. This was getting out of hand. Matt remembered an adage about not feeding animals or else they'd grow dependent. Had Matt inadvertently done exactly that? Animals that were accustomed to people often didn't see the danger. Tiny was certainly no animal, but the absence of caution they displayed in the moment was, frankly, ridiculous. It was a massive leap from the times they would flee his presence. He was starting to think he'd played too ignorant.

A smirk tugged at his lips upon hearing the leftover eggs being pilfered. When he turned to fetch the pan, Tiny was already hopping to the floor and disappearing behind the fridge.

Stealing right behind his back. When was enough too much, indeed.

AO3

Next

[gianttol]

max is not good at hiding recently (lore below the cut)

evelyn and max have lived together 3 months now

first month was max actually being sneaky and trying her best

second month was evelyn realizing she lives with a tiny person but still pretends she doesnt notice max. at this point she gets inspiration from max and designs a line of borrower themed clothes (which gives her a reason to create the small versions for max)

third month is evelyn spoiling max without her knowing it, leaving treats and clothes out all the time, leaving shows on for max while shes at class

max is becoming so spoiled that shes falling asleep out in the open and evelyn is concerned LOL

now im thinking of what their official first meet will be like >:3 fear/cute/accident/confession.. who knows??????

[megamattzx]

The Second Saiyan of Earth fought so hard to prevent the energy blast from the god Emperor from hitting the Earth as he felt his energy slowly fading when an explosion between the two energy blasts knocked Goku Jr back, causing him to fall towards the atmosphere. Unable to find the strength to keep going, is tired eyes looked towards him as he fell closer and closer to Earth. Seemingly catching on fire for the most part but his durability prevented him from taking any real damage. His breathing became heavier from exhaustion as he struggled to keep his eyes open. He could hear his life flashing before his eyes as well as memories swarming like crazy.

"You can relax, little brother...." He could hear Gohan's voice in his memories. Every time he told him not to be scared. "I can tell you're getting nervous."

The next voice he heard was twin. "Look at all we've lost and all we've learned," he heard Goten's voice. Remembering the vividly wise tone in Goten's voice. Everything they learned from their losses became so painfully evident as he thought about it more.

The next voice however caused the same Prince of Fire Mountain to desperately try to find whatever strength to keep fighting. Any strength that may be harboring within. "I'll stay in your heart...." The voice of Chi-Chi, his Mother, said in Goku Jr's mind. Thoughts of all of his friends and family including his wife and children were swarming Goku Jr like a storm as he heard all of their voices.

"Kaka, we're waiting......" He heard them all say as if they were all calling out to him to keep fighting. All while he was praying for them to just give him the strength to keep fighting. The strength he needed to take Zamasu down. He needed it. Tears fell from his eyes, as the fear and desperation began to sink in. "Waiting...... Waiting......."

"Everyone.... Lend me your strength.... please....." He said as he closed his eyes. But then it happened. A sudden surge of energy came to him. It was almost as if his call was answered. But the only way to accept it was to open the gate. He knew what he had to do... Whatever it took to defeat him... Whatever it took to save them... To return home.....

With a blood curdling roar, Goku Jr gathered enough energy and transformed all the way back into Ultra Instinct sign as he began to fly at great speeds back to where Zamasu was. Only stopping when he was present for the god to see him. Quickly entering a fighting stance making it clear that he wasn't done yet.

Zamasu was enraged by the sight of this. First it was the original Son Goku that would defile his ideals of the world as a god. And now his son was following in his footsteps. His clone and adopted brat. It seems that he wasn't completely broken or beaten. He was going to have to fix that. And he will.

Goku Jr glared as he watched the god emperor stare him down before he spoke again. "I don't think you really get it," Goku Jr said, in his tired yet determined state. "I can't afford to die!" His determination only fuels him as he continued on. His energy only spiked up more and all on Earth and even in the realms of the Gods, and other world could feel his energy. The thoughts of his mother , Chi-Chi, his father, Goku, his brothers and sisters, "Because I will protect my world.... And I will get back to my sons...." The sheer determination in Goku Jr's words and voice were evident as the thoughts of his wife really got through to him and completed his determination being fueled. "AND I WILL GET BACK TO MY WIIIIIFE!!!!!!!" Afterwards he would charge at the god emperor, before punching him square in the face before moving again at the speeds that zamasu could not keep up with before punching him in the back, then in the stomach. "For every comrade," the Saiyan Prince of Fire Mountain said as he persisted in his assault. "Every one of my friends, and all the souls who were slaughtered by your hands!"

And was that he then charged up his energy into his fist as he then delivered a massive punch to zamasu's stomach, both of them to fly towards the atmosphere and crashing down onto the Earth around them creating a massive crater. "SIX THOUSAND DRAGON FIST!!!!!!!!" Goku Jr screamed at the top of his lungs as he crashed down with Zamasu onto the Earth, causing a massive dragon made from all of the energy he had gathered, that flew into the sky before turning and flying back towards the two and hitting Zamasu right in the face, causing a massive explosion.

Everyone could feel the immense energy as they all rushed towards where it came from to see the crater and Goku Jr standing over Zamasu before trying to walk away. Seeing his friends gather around but also various energy rifts showed up as they realized what was going on. Zamasu could be heard laughing. Various different versions of Goku Black, Gohan Black and the rest of the different versions of Zamasu and his cultists. "You idiot...." Zamasu said in his pained laughter. "Can't you see? You sealed all of your Fates, just to beat me... You summoned all of my cult, when you unleashed your power. And ensured my victory, and now you'll never be able to go home....."

It was at that point Goku Jr slowly and deliberately turned towards Zamasu. Was Piccolo and Vegeta feeling the rage coming from him. The same Prince of Fire Mountain only began to walk towards him. "You're going to call off your cult....." Goku Jr said coldly as he slowly but surely approached one of Trunks' broken swords that was dropped during the battle.

Goku Black only scoffed at this as he noticed Goku Jr trying to intimidate him. Who did he think he was? Only to then boast about how Goku Jr had still failed. "Or what?" He clearly said he slowly but surely pointed out a major fact that was going to bite him in the ass. "You can't kill me, boy!"

Goku Jr let him speak before he got closer to the blade, his eyes darkened with sheer amounts of anger, and emotions. He knew that there was only one way to get him to call them off. And the fact that Zamasu can't die gave him more of an excuse. His eyes temporarily turned towards Zamasu. "Exactly," he said before turning to the blade which was still a few feet away from him before walking towards it. "I can't kill you, that is true. But you're going to wish I could...."

The Second Saiyan of Earth was seen walking towards the god in the body of his father. Goku, Chi-Chi, and the rest of his family and friends could see the rage in his eyes. The anger felt immense as Goku Jr picked up the broken blade from Trunks.The fear in Goku Black's eyes as he spoke. "Wait.... Wait.... AAAAACK!!!!!!" A scream of agony was heard for the Kai in Goku's Body as the Clone of Goku violently stabbed him. The pain was unbearable as the adopted son of Goku continued his assault. The relentless stabbings were filled with such rage and hatred. Something that Zamasu knew that even the purest of heart deep down were truly capable of. Each stab was 10 times more painful than the last. And it was clear that the second Saiyan of Earth was letting out all of his anger emotion and pain into every single stab that he delivered. Zamasu only continued to scream in agony, as Goku Jr showed the monster that he could be.

"How does it feel to be helpless!?" Goku Jr screamed in his anger, pain and sorrow. Each stab that he delivered was so damn personal. For all of the pain that this bastard had caused. Every amount of suffering that was inflicted because of this man who used his father's face and name in order to inflict such pain and misery. Goku Black's screams of agony did not stop him, but rather fueled him to keep going. "How does it feel to know pain!?" Each stab and word showcased more and more emotion the more this went on. He knew that he could never kill Zamasu. This particular version of Goku Black that had plagued him for so long was immortal in various ways. But he wasn't deterred in his actions. In fact this is exactly why he was doing this. He was taking advantage of the fact that he can't kill Goku Black now. To not only make him suffer and understand what it's like to go through a small taste of the pain that he caused. But also to let out all of his own pain and suffering out. Coming to terms with the fact that this man turned a once innocent boy into something that he wasn't.

The more this went on the more horrified everyone around became. Too terrified to even move. Goku wanted to stop his son but for some reason, something was preventing him from doing so. "I watched my comrades die in Honor!" He screamed with even more rage in his heart as he continued his relentless mutilation of his enemy. His rage became more and more evident with each attack. "Crying as they were slain! I heard their final moments, CALLING OUT TO THEIR CAPTAIN IN VAIN!!!!"

The more Goku Jr continued to inflict his pain upon Zamasu, the more everyone could see the tears from Goku Jr.'s eyes as he continued on. "LOOK AT WHAT YOU TURNED ME INTO!!!!" He screamed in his fury. Clearly not intending to show any Mercy. The influence of Piccolo and Vegeta clearly evident here but that moral compass was still present. Locked away inside that closed heart of Goku Jr at the moment. The Saiyan Prince of Fire Mountain continued to force the blade in and out of the places that would cause Zamasu the most pain. "LOOK AT WHAT WE'VE BECOME!!!!!"

"E-ENOUGH!!!" Zamasu begged in his screams. His screaming became louder the more Goku Jr continued. "STOP! STOOOOP!!!!!!!"

"ALL OF THE PAIN THAT I'VE BEEN THROUGH! HAVEN'T I SUFFERED ENOUGH!?" Goku Jr countered as he continued to slam the blade into the body of his enemy. Refusing to show any Mercy at this point. "YOU DIDN'T STOP, WHEN I BEGGED YOU!!!! TOLD ME TO CLOSE MY HEART!!!!! YOU SAID THE WORLD WAS DARK!!!!!"

The God in Goku's Body was choking on his own blood at this point for the most part as he was coughing it out. "Y-You...." He said as he was being stabbed more and more as he screamed the rest out in pain. "MONSTER!!!!!!" That didn't stop the Saiyan Prince as he continued onward.

"DIDN'T YOU SAY THAT RUTHLESSNESS WAS MERCY UPON OUR-!?" Goku Jr tried to say only to be cut off by Zamasu.

"ALRIGHT!!!! I GIVE!!!!!" He screamed out. "Please... I surrender... You win.... Just Stop... Goku....”

[racheyace]

A Shifty Hero

A size shifty story in which Luke and Matt decide to be superheros. 1700 words.

“Help!” The woman cried out frantically, it wasn’t her first time being mugged in New York city and she thought bitterly that it wouldn’t be her last either. What scared her this time though was that she had left her apartment with the intent on only going for an evening walk, she didn’t bring her wallet with her, only a set of keys to her apartment.

Normally she’d throw the purse at them and split before they could do any more harm, however this guy was convinced she was lying about not having any money on her.

“Please somebody help!” She cried again, resulting in the man slamming her against the brick wall behind her harder, hurting the back of her head in the process.

“Shut it, lady.” The masked man hissed at her and moved the gun that he had been previously holding to her head and shoved it into her mouth instead. She whimpered, hands above her head in surrender, hoping he would just search her and find her with nothing and leave her be.

Letting her neck go, he held the gun steadily in her mouth as he used his now free hand to begin feeling up her body, albeit with the intent on finding her purse but he also took a sick pleasure to search in areas he knew full well he would not find a purse.

Just when the criminal was about too have too much fun, they both felt the ground shake beneath them, the small amount of light that had lit up the alleyway was blocked by an immense presence.

A pair of sneakers slamming down on the pavement made the mugger jump and caused the pavement to crack slightly from the immense weight forced onto it. Their gaze wandered up following a pair of jeans larger than either of them could comprehend, and up and up to the face of a giant man who held them both in his menacing stare.

Cold grey blue eyes stared down at them, letting them take in his intimidating stature.

“Hey! Pick on someone your own size!” The immense voice reverberated around them.

Without warning a hand bigger than life itself was launched at the man, fingers larger than tree trunks wrapped around his waist unforgivingly, having forgotten completely about the woman he was tormenting he dropped the gun and she fell clumsily to the floor, breathless.

The giant brought the criminal up to his face and smiled menacingly at him, flashing his teeth brutishly.

“P-Please, I swear I wasn’t g-gonna to do anything, I j-just needed a f-few bucks, ya know, to help me get by, that’s all, I wasn’t g-gonna hurt her.”

“Funny that’s not what it looked like from here.” His breathe washed over the man eliciting a shiver of fear to race down his spine, he began to shake uncontrollably.

“Now what to do with you?” The giant asked himself, licking his lips in contemplation.

“Please, oh god don’t eat me!” All dignity lost, the criminal proceeded to wet his pants in fear for his life, the giant’s face grimaced in disgust, very nearly dropping him altogether.

“Gross.” The giant said flatly.

With that he lifted the man up higher as he stood to his full height of 65 feet and deposited the man on the sloped roof of a nearby building. The criminal flung himself to a pole that was attached to the roof and continued to shake like the coward he was, the giant laughed at the sight before ducking out of sight and disappearing completely.

Around the corner, the woman had pulled herself up off the floor and scanned the alleyway skittishly. Fearing that once the giant was done with the mugger, he would go after her next, she counted her lucky stars that she hadn’t been chosen to be his first meal that night and fled the alley way.

The giant, meanwhile, watched quietly in the cover of the shadows and tall buildings around him, he watched as the woman ran, a pang of guilt stabbed him in the stomach as he realised that he had also been the cause of her fear tonight and not just the mugger.

He didn’t take his eyes off of her until he saw her fumble for some keys and practically fall into her apartment building, only then he let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh man! That was totally epic dude!” A loud voiced echoed in the alleyway, the voice being close to the giant and most certainly coming from his chest pocket.

“Shhhh.” The giant glanced down at the pocket harshly, shushing his overly excitable friend, he watched as he popped his head out of the pocket, holding the flap up with one arm and smiling cheesily up at him.

“Honestly Luke, why didn’t we think to do this sooner, you’re a superhero, a vigilante, the hero of the city helping those in need!”

Luke pinched his friend’s waist and hoisted him out of his shirt pocket, before carefully placing him on the ground all the while shrinking to his usual heigh of 6 foot 5, he still stood taller than his friend even now.

“You gotta be quiet dude, anyone could have heard you just now!” Luke whispered harshly at his friend.

“And I’m your side kick!”

“Matt!”

Luke held a hand over his friend’s mouth, who stared wide eyed at him with his hands up in surrender. When he was sure that his friend wouldn’t continue blabbing about their secret to the whole of New York city he dropped his hand and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Please tell me that wasn’t the hand he just peed in.”

Luke smirked in response to which Matt proceeded to dramatically dry heave and make exaggerated vomiting noises as they walked through the alley.

When they were safely back in their shared apartment, they both sighed falling back onto the worn sofa in their living room.

Luke closed his eyes in exhaustion, his ‘gift’ allowed his body to shift sizes, but there were limits, and it didn’t always make sense even to him.

Sometimes he would shift uncontrollably without warning, other days he could shift as much as he wanted, and other times it took an immense amount of energy to shift and hold a size for extended periods.

Tonight, it had been difficult to convince his body to shift and took a great amount of energy to hold it for so long, it had been physically draining for him and he felt as though he could sleep for a week.

His ‘sidekick’ however had different ideas.

“Okay, so I’ve got this police scanner app my brother showed me, I say we set up camp each night and listen in for any disturbances we could help with, yeah?”

Matt was holding up his phone to Luke’s face, the app like a radio scanning through channels quickly looking for any activity to pick up in the transmitter.

“Matt.” Luke sighed his name and ran a hand down his face.

“What?” his friend asked looking confused and a little bummed that he wasn’t more excited about the idea.

“I really don’t think we should make this a regular thing, stumbling across a mugging like tonight, sure, but I’m not going to interfere with police, especially since this…ability” he waved vaguely at his body “Is so darn unpredictable.”

“I guess your right.” Matt slouched back onto the sofa dejected.

“Can we at least come up with cool names, you know, like real superheros?”

Luke raised his eyebrows once more before rolling his eyes, they were both 22 years old but Luke often wondered if Matt had stopped aging at 10.

“If it pleases you, knock yourself out.”

“Okay, oh I know, what about Stretch and Speedy!”

“Stretch?” Luke almost laughed but held a flat look despite his quirking lips.

“Yeah, cos you grow and I’m a track star, I’m sure I can use my speed to aid you my friend.”

“I also shrink.” Luke replied flatly.

“Your right that doesn’t really work does it.” Matt tapped his stubbled chin in thought dramatically before jumping up in excitement.

“Oh, what about, get this, Shifty.” His hands waved from left to right as though highlighting the name on a lit-up billboard.

“That makes me sound kinda…. shifty…. don’t ya think?”

Matt frowned dramatically and threw his hands up in exasperation, his friend was being greatly unhelpful in the important subject of superhero naming.

“You keep thinking, I’m gonna get something to eat whoa-“Luke stood up and immediately regretted it, his head spun and his body itched like it was about to shift, he didn’t have time to say a word more before he lost consciousness and fell to the floor.

“Whoa dude, are you okay?” Matt watched as his friend crumpled to his knees and fell to the floor without a sound, he’d been shrinking rapidly throughout his decent to the floor and by the time his cheek hit the carpet he was 6 inches in height.

“Shit.” Matt muttered, he knew Luke didn’t particularly like when he shrunk, it made him feel vulnerable and unsafe, he crouched down and looked guiltily at his friend, he wondered if pushing him to grow tonight may have triggered this sudden episode.

Not wanting to leave him on the floor, he nudged his fingers under his small friend’s body until he was cupped in his palms, lifting him up to his face he couldn’t help but think how cute his buddy looked when he was this size, of course he’d never say that to his face, he’d never hear the end of it.

“I gotcha shifty, sleep it off buddy.” Matt sat back down on the couch, placing his small friend on his chest, it was warm he knew from personal experience, being held close to Luke’s chest when he was large.

He turned on the TV and switched it to a low volume before also nodding off for the night, a hand held protectively over his friend as they both slept off the excitement of the night.

[theoryandahalf]

So after updating Lee and Santi on the Game Theory Wiki, I made the mistake of thinking I could easily identify the GT Live episodes where each creative director co-hosted with Matt. In my head, they didn't co-host that many episodes, so it should be super easy, barely an inconvenience. Right?

Yeah..so ah did you know that Tom was on GT Live 12 freak'n times in 2022?!!! Like I haven't even made it to 2023 yet. ;_;

Yeah, maybe this gets finished...or maybe I stop procrastinating on my real life problems lmao

[sushiburritonoms]

New ETN/GT Fic

I wrote this for Matpat's retirement in March and look at me, right on time as always.

Matthew Patrick's Home for Imaginary Friends and Biblical Abominations

Rating: Gen, no ships, comedy, could be considered crack I guess

Summary: Stephanie Patrick has made a lot of adjustments and sacrifices ever since her husband came back from Everlock and has come out of the other side a stronger person. But six years later, Matthew and Nikita finally achieve the impossible and bring Joey Graceffa back from Pandora’s Box...along with something else. What do you do when your husband accidentally releases the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse?

You hire them for Youtube of course.

Basically a fusion of Game Theory lore and ETN, featuring Stephanie, Jason, Tom, Lee, Santi, Amy, Mirror Matt, Ash, and a ton of other Theorist cameos and easter eggs. Its the new channel hosts as the Four Horsemen; this will NOT make sense if you don't follow the Theorist channels.

Fic Snippet is below the cut.

Hey Death, whatcha doing?”

“Go away, Fam, I’m busy!”

“You’re busy in MY space! Aren’t you supposed to be off reaping innocent babies or kittens or something?!”

“For the last time, we are GUESTS; you don’t own the space, you glutinous half-wit! Leave me alone!”

“Matt! Matt, Death is messing with your kitchen!!”

“GUYS! I’M ON THE PHONE!”

Stepping into her own kitchen wasn’t supposed to feel like a SAE mission. But Steph kept a flask of holy water and a crucifix in her Lululemon hip bag as she made her way over from the stairwell. The moment she made her presence known, she saw sickly green flames brighten to life in the blank sockets of Death’s skull face.

“Ah! Stephanie! So good of you to join us.” Death nodded his head politely and lifted a skeletal hand to tug at his black hood as though it were some sort of dapper hat. His upper-class London accent made the act feel less ridiculous and more like proper gentleman behavior.

“…Hi.” Steph was never going to get used to how terrifying it was to see green fire instead of eyeballs, especially since Death towered several feet over her and Matthew. Speaking of which… “I thought I heard Matthew’s voice.”

“He went downstairs,” a smooth voice chimed in from behind Death’s black robe. “With the other dude and the chick.”

Death snorted. “Eloquent and informative as ever.”

“She knows who I’m talking about! Now move your nonexistent ass; some of us are trying to work here!”

Steph saw a thick human arm swat at Death’s cloak, and the living personification of Famine stepped into Steph’s view.

Famine grinned at her with a very normal and healthy-looking human male face. Thank God. She would take his human form any day over the emaciated, decayed corpse that was his true form. Today, he was favoring a physique that had very broad shoulders and thick muscular biceps that strained against a baby blue shirt with some anime character imprinted on it. Matthew would surely know the show, but she did not. He had a round tan face with a salt and pepper beard and very mischievous eyes that were partially hidden behind thick black glasses. He eagerly held out one of her mixing bowls, which was filled near to the brim with something that smelled utterly delicious.

“I’m making snacks!”

“Thank you, Famine. That’s very sweet of you.” Steph couldn’t help but break into a smile. “Is this the same body you wore yesterday?”

Famine nodded vigorously. “Matt said we need to pick a body and stick with it. I like this one. Check out my GUNS!” He set the bowl down on the countertop beside him and flexed one of his thick arms at Steph.

Death scoffed. “Flesh is weak. Entropy is inevitable.”

“You’re just jealous because you can’t create anything other than the same lameo body you’ve had for centuries.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the way my human form looks. Not all of us are vain like you and Pestilence.”

“Excuse you?”

Steph jumped. A small, slender woman with incredibly pale skin and long black hair suddenly sat cross-legged at one of Steph’s kitchen bar chairs. She wore a shoulderless black halter dress that went down to the floor, to where Steph could see the tips of shiny Doc Martens peeking out. On her face, she wore black eyeliner to outline her light blue eyes, which were intensely focused on Famine. She looked completely human except for one small detail. She had long, razor-sharp silver claws instead of nails resting elegantly in her lap, like ten slim stiletto daggers just waiting to be thrown.

Death shook his bony head. “How many times have I told you not to scare our hosts like that? Don’t make me put a bell around your tiny neck!”

“Hmm, I’d like to see you try,” Pestilence yawned into the palm of her hand, her claws flexing across her face. They were filed into sharp points and caught the light in a terrifying way. “Sorry to bother you, Steph, but Matt was looking for you and said you needed to be on his call. He’s with the Vessel and Nikita.”

“The dude and the chick!” Famine shrugged. “I said that already.”

“You are useless,” Death groaned.

Oh. Right. Matthew had said he was going to call Jason today. She’d completely forgotten that was happening.

You can continue the fic here

[filmjet]

Behind the scenes of Ford v Ferrari (2019)

[maybeusha]

ken miles is king 🏎️🏁

[phone4pills]

Girl Gts Matt and stalker reader should get togetherrrr

Noooooooooooooooooooooooo not a chance. Did you forget she’s kind of a creep? And Matt has never even held eye contact with a girl for over ten seconds before. They are staying friends (with benefits and whatever) guys, I’m sorry.

[cyncerity]

with the update to the situation: i’m not gonna say much on it now, i wanna collect my thoughts more cause i think i need time to process. in the meantime, i’m gonna be posting a bunch of art for my aus that haven’t ever seen the light of day and hopefully answer some asks (none of which will be involving the person involved for the time being)

ik this all is gonna be hard for people to process, and i really do care about this little community, so if anything i make can help someone feel a bit better in the current state of things, then i want to do what i can.

[threshasketch]

Doodles of dot chibi Matt and Tiny!Near.

[ittybluebell]

The Glue Trap (daredevil g/t)

Finch is stuck in a glue trap that Matt forgot about. He rushes to save them.

Tiny was silent.

It wasn't uncommon - there was the odd time they went down to another apartment, a result of Matt lacking in the goods department.

Suspicious, Matt did another sweep. No, he found. Tiny was still here. They were… quiet. Not moving. Somewhere under the stairs to the roof. Their heartrate was elevated. Their breaths were quick, stuttering, with an undercurrent of sniffles. They sounded all too much like someone Matt wouldn't second guess saving out on the street.

Tiny grunted under strain. There was a strange sound under their feet, like mud.

Matt jolted as if electrocuted. He forgot a trap.

What followed was Matt lunging for the loose floorboard. He tried to estimate how long they'd been stuck. Since he left this morning? The pungent scent of glue wisped into the air and guilt twisted inside him. How could he forget? Were there others? How long had Tiny been there?

There was still food in their stomach. The smell of strawberry and wheat cracker was fresh on their breath. Matt felt a tinge of relief, replaced by guilt again - not nearly as long as he'd feared, but any length of time was too long.

Tiny's reaction was one of their squeak-yelps and a subsequent stabbing.

Matt hissed, "Ow," and flinched back when something sharp stung his finger. Tiny made another motion to defend themself and Matt withdrew his arm. "Y'know, most people don't attack the person trying to save them," he said, mildly put out. He understood he was an actual, literal giant here, but give him some credit.

Alright, so he should have announced his intentions first - that was on him.

Matt said, "I don't want to hurt you. I'm trying to help."

"The hell you are!" Tiny bellowed with all the ferocity contained in their little body. It was an unexpectedly Herculean amount. "Who set the traps in the first place, huh? Then you come in tryin' to snatch me up like a damn claw machine. 'Help' my ass!"

"I'm trying to help. I'm sorry about the traps - really, I am. I thought I got all of them out. I'm truly sorry. Will you let me fix this? Without stabbing me again? Please?"

A contemplative silence fell over the two. It was only respectful to ask: as someone who'd been stabbed and shot and hit more times than he could remember, Matt could handle a poke or two. But he didn't like being grabbed without his consent - why would someone who's just a few inches tall?

What even was that weapon, a nail?

…he should update his vaccines.

"You don't plan to lock me up and reveal me to the world for fame and wealth or ship me off to scientists that'll experiment on me?" Tiny asked suspiciously.

That was… shockingly specific. And all completely valid concerns. "No."

"Liar."

"I'm not. In God's name, I swear I'm not lying. Would I be trying to gain your trust if that was my goal? Why would I bother?"

"I guess… you just don't want me to stab you again."

"Oh, for- I owe Foggy several apologies if this is what he deals with."

Tiny agreed to let him help after admitting they were prepared to die anyway - ouch - and that being captured by a 'bean' - what? - really couldn't be worse. A win was a win and Matt didn't argue, reaching under the floorboards to rescue them.

It was a surreal experience for both parties. Feeling a tiny, human body fit in his hand, and for Finch, a massive hand wrapping around them. They were stiff as a board, bracing against fingers as wide as their torso. For every borrower, this was the worst case. This was the nightmare that made children hide under the covers. A human had discovered them - was holding them. Finch resisted the urge to bite and scrap and do anything in their limited power to free themself. A second hand pressed down on the edges of the trap and then Finch was being pried off. The glue was reluctant to let them go and threatened to claim their boots as a prize. Finch squawked and fought to keep them.

"Shit," Finch blurted. "Oh, sewers. Fuck me running. Mother of termites. Pissberry."

The glue released. Matt lifted both borrower and trap out of the floor and rose from his prone position.

[bootyvert]

Ferrari 812 GTS