#hack Hay Day Pop

[janeykath318]

Darcy's Secret

They first noticed something was off when Darcy’s profile disappeared from the dating apps she frequented.

“Have you finally given up, Lewis?” Tony asked, popping into the lab to be annoying, as was his usual. 

“For now,” Darcy shrugged. “I just don’t have the time right now to deal with the stress of sifting through hay to find a needle that may or may not prick me.”

“An apt metaphor,” Tony agreed. “But I might now a few guys…..”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” she replied, returning her attention to her data. “Science waits for no man.”

Tony was a bit disappointed, but also proud. He loved having another science minion around.

Steve and Bucky were surprised when they saw Darcy straight up turn down cold the hot lab tech she’d used to flirt with back in the day. 

“Whoa! I thought she had the hots for Keith,” Steve commented. “Wonder what happened.”

“Probably turned out to be a jerk,” Bucky sighed. “I noticed she’s straight up ignored him ever since she got back from Chile two months ago.”

“Hmmm, we’d better do a background check on him,” Steve pondered. “If I find out he messed with her…..”

“He’ll be disappeared,” Bucky finished, a fiendish gleam in his eye. They were very protective of Darcy and the mere thought of her being bothered by a man brought out their supersoldier instincts. 

Clint was intrigued when he saw Darcy had changed her Facebook profile. Her status now read In a Relationship, but try as he might, he couldn’t find any evidence of a potential romantic interest. He frowned. 

“Something’s fishy. She either changed it by accident or she’s really hiding something. I’d better consult with Nat.”

“Do you know what’s going on with Darcy?” He asked his friend. “She acts like she’s taken, but there’s no evidence of it except for a Facebook status change. I’m a little worried for her.”

Nat pondered for a moment, brow furrowed.

“It is very unlike Darcy to not flaunt her relationships openly. Perhaps she changed her status to appease annoying relatives and it’s all a fake?”

“Hmm…..could be,” Clint mused. “Something still feels off, though.”

“We’ll give it a few more weeks, then see if she’ll tell us herself. She’ll know if I go poking around behind her back, given her uncanny hacking skills. I want her to trust us enough to be open with us when she’s ready,” Natasha explained. “But in the meantime we’ll keep both eyes open for anything that suggests she is in danger.”

Clint nodded his agreement. 

“You’re right. It’s still gonna make me crazy not knowing.”

Thor caught Darcy in the hall talking on the phone with a very dreamy expression on her face.

“Ah! Lightning sister!” He exclaimed, when she’d hung up. “Should I wish you joy? That look on your face was full of love.”

Darcy flushed and her eyes looked everywhere but at him. She opened her mouth and closed it several times. 

“Um……would you believe me when I said I was talking to my dad?”

Thor frowned.

“Not in the least. That was not an expression of familial love on your countenance. Nor do you end your calls to your father by saying “bye, babe.”

She sighed and picked at her jacket, clearly anxious. 

“Look, Thor, I hate not being fully honest with you, but I can’t really talk about it yet for security reasons. I promise I will come clean when I can.”

Thor was somewhat appeased but still concerned.

“But is he worthy of you?” he asked worriedly. “I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to you, Darcy.”

“Aw, Big Guy, you’re so sweet,” Darcy sighed, giving him a reassuring hug. “And he has been very good to me. Believe me, if he wasn’t, I’d taze him in the balls.”

“I’ve no doubt you will,” Thor approved. “I will look forward to meeting him.”

Darcy wandered into Bruce’s lab, looking for a hideaway.

“What brings you in, Darcy?” Bruce asked, looking up from his computer.

“I’m trying to avoid my nosy co-workers,” she sighed. “You’ve probably heard the rumors. 

“Yes, but I don’t put any stock in them. I don’t know why people have all decided you’re secretly married, but it really sounds like Clint pulling a prank to me. I’ve already had to give talking-tos to some of the interns for repeating that nonsense.”

“I knew I could count on you, Bruce,” Darcy said, sitting down on the floor in the corner. “You’re awesome. How long do you think before they give up?”

“Until the next big Tony-related incident,” Bruce guessed. “Which around here, is usually at least once a week.”

Darcy giggled. That was one thing they could all count on: Tony causing a catastrophe, one way or the other. 

Tony was throwing his usual big holiday party and the Avengers were dressed to the nines ready to party. Bucky and Natasha looked like they’d just stepped out of the Mr. and Mrs. Smith movie and Steve proudly escorted Sharon Carter, who looked beyond gorgeous in a sparkly silver dress. 

Clint and Laura were happily dancing when he spotted Darcy entering the room on the arm of a tall, swarthy man, the sight of who made his stomach clench. 

They walked right up the group of Avengers. 

“Hello, everyone,” Darcy greeted. “I’d like you to meet my husband, Brock.” 

Multiple pairs of eyes looked at the couple’s left hands, which both sported impressive wedding bands. Silence reigned for a full minute. 

Darcy’s stomach lurched with guilt at the betrayed looks on Steve’s and Bucky’s faces, but Sharon’s whisper in Steve’s ear seemed to calm him down. Sharon, Jane and Fury were the only three people who knew the truth.

“Explanation. Now”

“Blink twice if you’re hostage!”

“What the hell, Darcy?”

“This is fake, right?”

“This has to be just a big joke.”

“How could you….”

Everybody spoke at once and Darcy clung tighter to Brock’s arm. She didn’t like the way Tony and Bucky were looking at her. 

Steve’s sharp whistle cut through the pandemonium and everyone turned their attention to him.

“Hey. Let’s let Darcy and Rumlow explain before we assume the worst, okay? Pepper would never have okayed his access if there was a threat possibility,” Steve said calmly. 

“Didn’t he try to kill you, Capsicle?” Tony asked skeptically.

“Multiple times. But what I just found out is he was a triple agent the whole time.”

Jaws dropped and everyone stared at Brock. Bucky was practically boring a hole right through him.

Brock sighed. 

“It’s true. Fury had me deep undercover as a Hydra operative for years. I did things I’m not proud of. But we took them down. I met Darcy a couple years ago when I was hiding out, nursing my wounds. We hit it off, but since I was supposed to be dead, everything had to be top secret.”

“So, the wedding happened in Chile?” Natasha surmised.

Brock and Darcy nodded. “Yep,” Darcy confirmed. “I’m really sorry I couldn’t tell you. It’s been so hard, not being able to squeal about how happy I am.”

Clint shook his head. 

“You fooled a bunch of spies. Nice going, Darcy. Congratulations.” 

He sounded genuinely pleased, so Darcy started to feel better. Clint and Nat came forward to offer hugs and gradually most of their friends did the same, even Thor, though he took the opportunity to give Brock the godly stare down. 

Tony finally came over and shook Brock’s hand.

“Well, I see Darcy likes Italians. Good taste, Darce.”

“I like tall Italians,” Darcy clarified impishly, winking at Tony, who pretended to be gravely offended. 

Sharon chuckled and offered congratulations.

“You do clean up nice, you two. Red is clearly your color.”

“Thank you,” Darcy replied giddily, swishing the skirt of her stunning red dress. “I think we’re one of the hottest couples in the room, don’t you think, babe?”

Brock grinned at her, 

“Without a doubt,” he purred. “Shall we dance, Mrs. Rumlow?” 

“With pleasure,” Darcy beamed, taking his arm and allowing herself to be swept away onto the dance floor. Bucky stared after them, still trying to process this. 

“Well, I think we caused the sensation of the decade,” Brock remarked. “I’ll never forget the look on Rogers’s face. Or Stark’s.” 

He snickered at the thought as he twirled her around.

“Me neither,” Darcy agreed. Clint had resembled a goldfish, and Tony looked like he’d been struck by lightning. “I really think it would be a good idea for you to talk to Steve and Bucky, though. Maybe clear the air. They’ve appointed themselves my surrogate big brothers, so be prepared for a super soldier shovel talk.”

“Barnes looks like he wants to end me,” Brock commented. “It’s gonna take a bit with him. Not that I blame him.” 

“Natasha will talk him around,” Darcy said. “Did you know they’re a couple?”

“No. Huh. Wow. Good for them,” Brock dipped Darcy, then went in for a kiss before he returned her to her feet.

“You sure know how to show a lady a good time,” she crooned to him.

“And I’ll show you an even better one tonight,” he whispered in her ear. “You’re driving me crazy in that dress.” 

“They certainly seem to be enjoying married life,” Steve commented. “I hope it stays that way.” 

“Me too,” Bucky admitted. “I’m not sure how I feel about him, but I know Darcy well enough to know she’d never marry a nazi. At least with him around, she shouldn’t have to worry about any more kidnappings.”

“Good point,” Steve admitted. “Rumlow can wreck anyone that’s not you or me. It’ll save us a lot of worry.” 

“That’s the spirit,” Sharon put in, coming up from Steve from behind and wrapping her arms around him.”

“Romanoff and I would like to join the fun on the dance floor, gentlemen. Are you done being party poopers?”

Steve and Bucky looked at each other then grinned.

“I’m game,” Bucky told Natasha. “Let’s go show them how it’s done.”

“I’ll give it a go,” Steve said to Sharon. “Though, I’ll warn you, I don’t have the skills Bucky has.”

“That’s okay,” she told him. “Neither do I. I’m good with the ole hold and sway version. Save the acrobatics for later.” 

She winked at Steve, who turned red.

“Carter and Rogers. I never would have imagined it,” Brock commented. “Thought they loathed each other.”

“Ha!” Darcy laughed. “So did I, but once I saw them working together, it was clear The sexual tension was through the roof. Ooh, boy.” 

She fanned herself dramatically. “Once they worked out their issues, it was all lovey-dovey and eye sexing. A little nauseating, but I’d be a hypocrite to call them out for that, given how we operate.”

Brock sent her a heated look, which made her blush again.

“Yep, that’s how it’s done,” she admitted. “You have no right to be so sexy, Mr. Commander Fineass.”

“The feeling is mutual, beautiful,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss her again. “Very, very mutual.”

[allylikethecat]

TALK SHOP TUESDAY!!!

how has your day been??

- i have no complaints my day was slow but that’s always a good thing at my job haha, i recently got on the poppi train and they’re pretty good! have you tried any?

i gasped when i saw you posted two fics today!! not taking credit for the idea but….. i did say i was feeling a double drop not too long ago didn’t i? hehe but no, thank you for doing that! i know you like letting each fic get its own moment and i still think they will this week. todays ducklings update had me “😯” im super excited to see where matty went and if he and george will properly talk. i keep wondering if it’s gonna be a girl or boy!!!! Ducklings has quickly become one of my favs and i love george povs!

talk shop tuesday!

- do you prefer reading and/or writing happy endings? or are unresolved and/or sad endings an option for you?

- also— since we know atkh matty has a blue razz vape i was wondering how that little tidbit even became a thing in the first place, do you vape? have you vaped? how did you decide the flavor???

Hello My Dearest Smoothie Anon, I got your other ask saying you forgot to sign this one lol

Happy Talk Shop Tuesday!!

I can't complain about my day - it was very hot out but I had a nice little hack with Pop, the Bruins actually won which is incredible so now my anxiety has to go through a game SIX, and work was good! My boss told me I was great and doing a good job which always makes a person feel nice lol I'm happy to hear you had a good day as well!! I'm not a huge Poppi fan even though all my friends are - give me my Diet Coke and chemicals 😂

Hehe I know I said I wasn't going to do a double drop... but the moment felt right! (Not going to lie I was worried people were going to be disappointed by the On a Friday update and I wanted to be able to whip out Ducklings and be like NEVER MIND THEN SURPRISE)

Hehe I'm also very excited for the next few Ducklings chapters... This is Fictional!Matty so he's going to make it even worse before it gets better 😈 I'm not 100% certain it's going to be a boy or a girl yet- but I am leaning towards a girl, they just have girl parent energy in my opinion lol

NOW FOR TALK SHOP TUESDAY:

I prefer to read happy endings, I hate sad endings. I was so upset after I finished the Idea of You book because of the ending. I do however enjoy writing those more open ended almost bitter sweet endings because creatively I find them more interesting to craft than just a straight up happy ending. BUT I feel bad not giving people a happy ending so I will usually be doing that lol

LOL The blue razz vape 😂 I do not vape, I am old, I am from the generation where "we smoked cigarettes like adults" <- direct quote from a friend of mine lol but even then I only really ever smoked socially while drinking in college. I have however tried various younger friend's vapes (also while drunk) and hated it every time, I'm not sure why I keep doing it and expecting a different result 😂 HOWEVER in terms of Fictional!Matty, smoking is such a thing for IRL Matty and therefore the different variations of Fictional!Matty, however, I cannot imagine that Fictional!Jack or Fictional!Jamie would allow that kind of FIRE HAZARD around the horses, like hay is already so combustable! The amount of No Smoking sighs covering our barn property is just like truly impressive. Not to say that horse people DON'T smoke, but in this fictional universe Fictional!Matty has been shamed out of it for fire hazard reasons and also because I just think the idea of him trying to hid his fucking blue raspberry vape is hilarious - fictional!George also thinks it's hilarious because what even IS a blue raspberry really?!

Thank you SO MUCH for being so wonderful and for sending me this super fun ask!! I'm so happy that you enjoyed the updates and that you were willing to indulge me in Talk Shop Tuesday! I hope you had a fantastic Tuesday and that you have a great rest of your week!

❤️Ally

[recentlyheardcom]

10 Classic Indian Advertisements That Will Take You Back to Good Old Days: Whether or not you liked them or hated them there is no such thing as a manner you may neglect them. Confused?Nicely, we’re speaking in regards to the TV commercials of the previous days. And if somebody ever advised me to recite the Nirma Music, I can nonetheless sing it in a single breath. We are going to agree on this that there have been few particular TV ads that one way or the other caught in thoughts. So, right here on this article, we have now shared some basic Indian ads which have been the a part of the golden age of tv. 1. Dhaara oil- Dhaara Dhaara Shuddh Dhaara Just one factor pops into my thoughts after seeing this which is “JALEBI”. 2. Nirma- Washing powder Nirma   We will nonetheless recite the jingle phrase by phrase which was like Doodh si safedi, Nirma se aaye. 3. Lijjat- Lijjat Papad   Keep in mind, how that bunny used to say Aahah Lijjat Papad. Additionally learn: Relationship Hack: 7 Negative Thoughts That Destroy Relationship 4. Dermi cool- Chubti Jalti Garmi Until now this Advert resembles the arrival of summer season. 5. Ponds- Googly Woogly Woosh One of many quirkiest jingle by far. 6. Airtel- Har Ek Pal Zaroori Hota Hai After it was launched, it turned the friendship anthem everywhere in the nation. Additionally learn: 6 Fiery Women Officers Who Are Fighting Against The Crime 7. Mentos- Dimaag Ki Batti Jala De This advert displayed the human evolution in a extremely cool manner. 8. Hutch- You and I In This Stunning World After the discharge of this Advert, the pug turned the Vodafone’s model ambassador. 9. Amul- Amul, The Style Of India That is an evergreen one and everyone knows this undeniable fact that Amul is the style of India. Additionally learn:10 places to hangout in Delhi Without Spending Money 10. Cadbury Silk- Kiss me Even the cadbury bubbly was cute. So, these have been the few basic Indian ads.

[miracle-sham]

Die Like the Butterfly Shoot With Their Guns.

| {Jasonette July 2021, Week 2, Day 7: Guns} |

Chapter 1 of Sheltered by Darkness not yet Moths to the Flame.

| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] | | [Spotify Playlist Link] | | [Chapter 2] |

———

| Sometimes a family can be a gang comprised of eleven vigilantes, and their AI robot, fighting against the father of one of their own. |

| Or alternatively: after falling through the cracks, they do what they must to survive. And if that means committing crimes in order to bring down the Big Butterfly and all the other corrupt businesses in the city, then so be it. |

———

| Tonight's the night. Half of them will strike one of the Big Butterfly's warehouses that just so happens to contain some fancy new gun tech. Besides, it'll be in better hands with them than the Big Butterfly or his associates. Now all that matters, is that nothing goes wrong! |

| Word Count: 3,322. |

| Warnings/Tags: Cyberpunk/Criminal/Gang Au, Explicit Language/Swearing, Hacking, Breaking and Entering, Theft, Mentions of Bombs and Guns, Mentions of corrupt/shady businesses, Fluff, Gang/Team as family/family dynamics, Found Family. |

———

| A/N: It is Cyberpunk Au time! This is a twoshot, so have a looksy to see if you can find all the snippets of foreshadowing I've set! Also this is mostly Action/Fluff but beware of the warnings regardless. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! |

| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

———

Rain patters against the concrete, sound mixing with the low hum and high buzz of electricity. The ground is slick with murky puddles that never seem to clean the pavement. Still just as filthy as before, permanently dyed with dried bloodstains, mud stains, electric scorch marks, and far worse. The air is heavy with the smell of cigarette smoke, ozone, and that ever underlying decay that clings to the city.

It's dark—dead of night—but the streets are awash with flickering neon lights. There are a few others haunting the street though most of them are sticking to the areas of light, avoiding the shadows.

Which is where Marinette, also known as the ruthless gang leader Fantôminou, is lurking.

Jason—Red Hood, her co-leader—snarls as he drops down onto the shadowed fire escape beside her. “We've got a rat. Someone's tipped off the big Butterfly and security has been increased around the perimeter. Most likely interior security increased too.”

Fantôminou flexes her glowing clawed gauntlets, “I suppose we should check in with our local pied piper, before we strike, hmm?”

There's a bzzt in her earpiece as the channel is hijacked by the familiar voice of their gang's hacker, Max aka Raijack. “I wouldn't worry about that if I were you, our pied piper has already been contacted. Whoever they were, they didn't reveal which location we were targeting, so it's just a general security increase.”

She hums. “Raijack, link us up with the rest of the strike force.”

“Got it, 'Minou.” He responds, and not a split second later, the earpiece makes another bzzt and there's the faint ping of the rest of the channel being alerted at someone joining.

“Look, I think you could totally pull off the—oh, who just joined the channel?” Adrien, Cheval Mallet, asks in surprise.

“Just me and our anthill tiger.” Red Hood announces, snorting at the glare Fantôminou sends him.

Silence echoes across the line before a scrabble of hushed but excited voices causes a ruckus.

Fantôminou sighs, “I know we're all excited to hit the big Butterfly hard by stealing some of their new fancy gun tech. But let's leave the yelling for when we inevitably set off the alarms!”

“Hey!” Raijack protests. “I'll have you know I have produced a new virus that has a ninety-eight per cent chance of not setting off any alarms!”

Red Hood rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, but you've still not worked out how to get your viruses to deactivate the bombs in the crates yet, huh?”

“I will one day, until then it's your job to stop the bombs from triggering the rest of the alarms!” Raijack counters with a huff.

Fantôminou sighs again, this time with an added sprinkling of are-you-kidding-me. “Red Hood, Raijack. I can and will kick your asses if you do not shut up so we can discuss final prep before we begin the pesticide protocol.”

Bumping shoulders with her, Red Hood snorts again. “I've got nothing against being beat up by someone as pretty and buff as you Minou, you know that!”

“Oh, I think we can all agree to wanting to get crushed by Minou's guns.” Cheval Mallet pipes up once more.

Fantôminou sighs very wearily. “Nevermind, are you all ready?”

Red Hood salutes at her, and despite his mouth being covered, it's easily telling that he's grinning cockily underneath. “I'm ready. My guns are ready, and I've got the bomb defusal kit at the ready.”

“I may be holding my horses but I'm saddled to giddy-up on the go!” Cheval Mallet cheerfully announces.

“This has to be one of your worst attempts at horse puns yet.” Raijack comments, “otherwise, I'm in position and ready to hack on your call, Minou.”

Red Hood exchanges a glance with Fantôminou as silence falls over the earpiece channel. “Hold up, where's Arsenal? Shouldn't he have checked in by now?”

Taking his hand gently, Fantôminou gives it a reassuring squeeze.

“He already did but because you two had your issues getting into position and avoiding the unexpected police patrol, Arsenal had to deal with another issue that popped up which would've threatened our plan,” Raijack informs, sounding nonplussed.

“Well, you don't sound concerned.” Fantôminou points out the obvious. “Has he got back up?”

There's the faint tapping of a keyboard through the earpiece channel before Raijack responds, “Chèvrapide is on her way to back him up, don't worry.”

“Then that's everyone accounted for. Let's rock and roll.” Red Hood orders, dropping from the fire escape and landing in the rain-slick alleyway with ease, conveniently right beside the hoverbike they had stashed here.

Fantôminou hops down after him, except she manages to flip and expertly land in the driver's seat. “I'm driving Jay, you're the one with the guns after all,” she all but states, putting one gauntleted hand up and flexing just to hammer in the point, “I'm close range only right now and you know it.”

Red Hood throws his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey! I'd never complain about getting to watch you drive this beauty of a hoverbike.”

Fantôminou snorts. “Just get on, pretty bird!”

“Well, if you say so, pretty kitty!” Red Hood teases back, vaulting onto the back of the bike behind her. He wraps an arm around her waist and rests the other hand on his sheathed-for-now gun.

She revs the engine of the hoverbike and steers out of the alleyway with practised ease. There's no directions on the hoverbike's holoscreen, but it's not like they need any—the directions to where they need to be outside the warehouse have already been memorised by each and every one of them.”

Down the left street, take the right at the T junction, pass under the flyover street, then take a further two lefts and then straight on until the block of office buildings forming a protective extra layer between the warehouse electric razor wire tipped fencing and the road. Easy.

“All networks in the office buildings have temporarily shut down. As far as the tech will be concerned, it'll look like the networks just decided to not work today.” Raijack announces through the earpiece channel, voice coming through slightly more robotic than usual.

“So no security cams?” Fantôminou checks cautiously, circling like a hawk around the small stretch of street between her and the office building she and Jason will be entering through. The rain has slowed to a drizzle but that doesn't make the circling in it any less mildly uncomfortable, at least inside it'll be dry.

There's the familiar clack of keys once more. “Not quite, they're a little harder to crack than entering in through the backdoor via someone's unprotected webcam in the office. Thank you, Shodan.” Raijack pauses, keys continuing to clack in the background. “Unfortunately, the Big Butterfly's got tech security smart enough to keep the security system on a closed network so I can't hop from webcam to computer to network to cams. However, they didn't account for Markov, suckers!”

Red Hood snorts. “Isn't Markov a little obvious for this kinda mission?”

“Oh, did I forget to tell you?” Raijack says, in a voice that very clearly conveys he didn't forget so much as purposefully neglected to mention, “I recently upgraded Markov, outfitting him with the currently most highly advanced cloaking system. Thanks to some help from Fantôminou's knowledge of cloaking and camouflage fashion.”

Red Hood leans his head onto Fantôminou's shoulder. “I'm hurt, you knew and didn't tell me? I want cloaking guns! Think of how much cooler I'd look with them!”

Fantôminou merely hums in an unamused response. “Raijack wanted it to be a surprise.”

He huffs. “I see who your favourite person in our gang is then!”

“You're right! It's me!” Cheval Mallet cheers, jumping into the conversation.

“Fucking 'ell!” Red Hood curses under his breath. “I thought you were gonna mute whilst getting in position.”

Cheval Mallet's laugh cuts in and out across the earpiece channel. “And when did I hay that!”

“Hacker voice, I'm in!” Raijack interrupts. “Looks like the security system was perfectly untouched by whatever minor error caused the main networks to crash, how lucky. Which is to say, looping is in process, and we now have free entry.”

“Got us a place to park yet, though?” Red Hood asks.

Raijack doesn't immediately respond, but the sound of the garage door connected to the office building opening, is answer enough. “I might.”

Fantôminou snorts. “Thanks, Raijack. Hood and I need to split here right, just until we get past the fencing right?”

“That's right.” Raijack responds, “good luck, and Markov and I will see you all on the other side.”

“Break a leg, or three!” Red Hood calls over the earpiece. “Preferably some else's though!”

Fantôminou pulls the hoverbike into the garage, keeping her gaze ahead. “If I could elbow you without fucking up my parking, I would.”

Red Hood cackles quietly in response, trying to at least keep to the stealth part of the mission plan.

In the blink of an eye, the hoverbike is securely parked. Perfectly hidden in plain sight but easily accessible for a quick and clean getaway should nothing go wrong. And well, if something were to go wrong, there's not going to be any hoverbike left for evidence. Though, that's not to say a small part of Fantôminou's brain doesn't anxiously hate how they're practically sitting on top of bombs ready to blow up at the slightest hint of things going wrong. However, they've been through enough strikes like this for the concern to be mostly easily ignored.

———

With the hoverbike parked, Fantôminou and Red Hood part ways.

Fantôminou heads up through the internal stairwell connected to the garage, whilst Red Hood takes one of the external doors leading to the office building next door.

The stairwell is like any other maintenance stairwell. Grey concrete walls, metal railings and steps. Even Fantôminou's light footsteps clang loudly against the ridged metal stairs. It's cold, just as cold as the garage was and barely warmer than it is outside in the rain. The air is stuffy but at least the respirator hidden beneath the bandana wrapped around her mouth makes it bearable to breathe. Other than the aforementioned clanging of steps, and her breathing, Fantôminou is alone with the ominous silence of a liminal space.

The stairs stretch on upwards for what seems far longer than it should, but eventually, Fantôminou reaches the final steps to the roof entrance door.

The door is unlocked, and so Fantôminou opens it as quietly as possible. She walks out into the rain once more and scrunches up her nose. A quick glance of the roof yields no immediate signs of danger or anything of note, so she continues to the edge of the roof.

Fantôminou rests one foot on the lip of the roof and flexes her gauntlets, lights switching off for stealth. Carefully, she turns around and crouches on the lip, gauntlets gripping the edge and toes of her boots braced against the wall. Bit by bit she descends, gauntlets making it more than easy to stay attached to the wall.

Two-thirds of the way down, Fantôminou climbs onto a window sill. The fence is only a metre below, with a further four-metre drop. No security drones in sight, yet—but no alarms have been triggered yet either.

A shadow drops down the building and over the fence on the other side of the compound. Not a second later is the double buzz of the earpiece signalling that someone is in position.

Fantôminou smirks beneath her face coverings, not one to be so quickly outdone she leaps forwards in a dive—spinning midair as she begins to plummet. Clearing the razor wire fence with room to spare.

She hits the ground in another diving roll, and immediately uses the momentum to throw herself up and run towards the nearest warehouse building. As soon as she reaches the wall, she double-taps her earpiece to send the double buzz signal to others.

A moment later comes the third double buzz, soon followed by the fourth and final signal.

“Markov is covering our air support.” Raijack's voice clips across the earpiece channel, “Fantôminou, you and Red Hood are on opposite ends of the same warehouse. I've unlocked the doors for you. You know the drill.”

“Thank you, Raijack. Entering now.” Fantôminou responds, she slinks over to the warehouse doors and cautiously pries open the now unlocked door.

Fantôminou heads straight for the terminal, and knows Red Hood is doing the same. Slipping Raijack's new and improved virus into one of the terminal's ports. Seconds pass.

“Interface secured,” Raijack informs.

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Red Hood prowling over to her. She nods to him and taps into the terminal with her gauntlet.

Red Hood readies his bomb defusal kit as she instructs the internal warehouse drones into delivering the goods to them.

The drone, blinking yellow—a sure sign of Raijack's virus in effect—hovers over and drops a large black cased crate before them.

As soon as the claws of the drone release the crate, Red Hood is immediately on it, pulling it open and weeding out the bomb.

They wait with bated breath. Red Hood tinkers away. The earpiece channel is silent as the team focuses.

He hisses through his teeth, and Fantôminou tenses—ready to grab him and run, in the worst case—but he only packs the kit back away and sighs in relief.

He taps the earpiece thrice—signalling success.

Raijack and Cheval Mallet don't respond, so Fantôminou and Red Hood stuff their haul into Fantôminou's Miraculous, for ease of transport, and begin making their way towards the warehouse the other two were hitting.

By the time they reach the nearest warehouse doors, the earpiece triple buzzes. Success, again.

They pause only to exchange a nod between the two before continuing to meet up with Cheval Mallet and Raijack—no rendezvous needed this time so far.

It takes forty seconds to cross halfway to the other warehouse, where they meet the other two along with Markov in the middle.

Cheval Mallet waves a hand and the five of them skulk over to a small shed off the side of another warehouse. He raises his horseshoe weapon and calls out, “Bon Voyage!”

The portal forms and Markov flies through first. The remaining four exchange glances then bolt forwards, racing to see who can get through first.

The blue light blinds them all for a second, despite how used to the power they are.

“Mission success!” Fantôminou cheers breathlessly once the blue fades, throwing her hands up in celebration.

“WOOH!” Cheval Mallet yells, jumping up and punching the air.

Red Hood snorts, “but more importantly I so won!”

Raijack hums, “let's see what Markov has to say about that.”

Markov makes a series of boops and beeps, yellow LEDs flickering. “Red Hood is correct, he won the portal race.”

“YES!” Red Hood crows.

“Oh come on!” Raijack grumbles.

Footsteps and clapping approaches. “Well done,” Félix praises, “but perhaps leave the celebration until after you've all gotten into jammies.”

Cheval Mallet giggles, “Flicks, I can't believe you can somehow still sound pretentious whilst saying something as childish sounding as "jammies"!”

Félix raises an eyebrow, “you say this every time I call pyjamas that. Now come on, I've ordered pizza and Roy, Alix, Luka, Artemis, Kori, and Bizarro are already waiting for you lot, in the lounge, so we can get the party started.” He turns on his heel and walks out of the utility-changing room.

Markov, as the only one not needing to change, shows the tongue-sticking-out emoji on his LED screen and zooms after Félix.

Jason, Marinette, Adrien, and Max all start changing out of their gear as quickly as possible.

“Oh no!” Adrien gasps, half undressed, suddenly remembering something. “We forgot to take the motorbikes back!”

Marinette groans, “I knew I was forgetting something!"

Facepalming, Jason sighs. “We were all too caught up in everything going well for once.”

Max snorts. “Oh don't worry! I anticipated this, all it took was a little hacking into our hoverbikes and now they're on autopilot to one of our empty storage bases.”

“Oh. Well, that's good then.” Adrien says, looking a little embarrassed.

“Yeah… anyway come on, we don't want to keep your cousin and the others waiting any longer! They'll eat all the pizza!” Marinette exclaims.

They all finish changing into loungewear and pyjamas just as music starts to play from the lounge and so frantically, they all dash towards it, trying to shove each other out of the way and laughing playfully as they do so.

They've won a battle, they've successfully gotten in and out with a good haul of gun tech. No alarms tripped, nothing went wrong. Hoverbikes undamaged and on the route home. For once, everything went smoothly. And that, is cause for an evening of celebration.

Leaving the worries of the rat for tomorrow.

———

In a dark observatory with a closed butterfly window, a folder is tossed across a desk.

Papillon glances down at the folder with indifference. He rests his elbows on the expensive polished wood and steeples his fingers. “You said you had acquired information that you believe will interest me?”

The man in a black suit sitting opposite Papillon, smiles patiently. “My informant went through quite the lengths to acquire this. Why not take a look inside.”

Papillon purses his lips, “this better not be a waste of my precious time, Lex.”

Lex Luthor raises an eyebrow in amusement. “I assure you, Gabriel, you will find what is inside most interesting.”

There's a moment's pause as Gabriel waits. Nothing happens. He nods and then opens the folder. He spreads the papers inside in arc across the desk. In the middle of the papers, is the photo of a smiling teenage girl with bright blue eyes, and blue-dyed hair. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” He reads out, lips curling into a contemplative frown.

“Poor little girl,” Lex croons mockingly, “missing—presumed dead—after her parents' bakery was destroyed in an Akuma attack. Her name should be familiar to you though, won your one-day derby hat competition at her school.”

Gabriel's fingers still mid-steeple, and he moves one hand up to his chin in thought. “Ah yes, I remember that designer. The one with the feather derby whose design was stolen and copied. That signature embroidery was impressive work.” He recounts.

Lex grins, “yes, however most distressingly, it would seem this up and coming star of a designer has lost her glow.”

“How so?” Gabriel responds, furrowing his brows.

“Well you see, my informant has found… evidence, that our poor little designer here fell through the cracks into the shadows after the loss of her parents and bakery. It's rather obvious that the larvae have taken her as their own, some of their masks and clothes fit perfectly with what we know of her unique incorporation of her signature, as well as stitch work.” Lex explains, waving a hand towards the rest of the photographs and documents spread from the folder.

Gabriel frowns and eyes a few of the other papers with interest. “I see, that is most unfortunate.”

“But.” Lex cuts in before Gabriel can say anything more. “I'm well aware you're plenty familiar with fixing larvae with damaged wings and frayed wires. As such, a strange little cold case brimming with potential for your program, would do quite nicely for your collection, wouldn't you say?” Lex insinuates, rising from his seat as he continues, “rescue the poor larvae, craft it a chrysalis, and nurture the Pupa into something radiant. Not unlike what you did with the Macrothylacia Rubi, and your replacement wife.” With that, Lex smiles smugly down at Gabriel and then strides out of the observatory, not giving Gabriel a chance to respond.

And leaving Papillon to the folder and his musings.

———

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fic! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |

| Behind the Names: Fantôminou is a portmanteau of Fantôme (Ghost/Phantom) and Minou (Kitty). And she's called that because I thought the Black Footed cat fit her, and they're nicknamed Anthill Tigers. They also have the highest successful hunting rate! |

| Raijack is a portmanteau of Raiju (lightning dragon) and jack plug (the connect-y bit on headphones into a phone for example) but is also a play on the word Hijack. |

| Cheval Mallet is an evil horse spirit that offers rides to weary travellers and kidnaps them. Yes, there is a reason behind this. It's covered in Chap 2 |

| Chèvrapide is a portmanteau of Chèvre (Goat) and Rapide (Fast). |

| Also feel free to send me any comments with any questions you have regarding this fic, I’ll be more than happy to answer! |

| @jasonette-july-event |

[zestyquetzalcoatl]

Luck is petty.

Like everything else about his luck, Gladstone hates this and loves it in equal turns, often both at once.

It’s pettiness means he always knows that people’s minds are their own (or at least not influenced by him). Once someone has decided he is insufferable and deserving of only a kick in the pants, it cannot make them give him things or put up with him anyway (ignoring the odd encounters he’s had with a chicken in a bright pink cape.*1 He’s pretty certain something entirely different then luck was at play there, though he has no idea what), which is why he mostly gets given free stuff by strangers instead of people who have met him before. It can influence the physical world, and that alone.

He loves this about it because it means he can exert some level of control over it, want and hate and whittle down its options until it’s forced to give him what he actually wants. He loves it because he is terrified of what it could do if it wasn’t petty. How far it could go, how much it could effect, how badly it would twist the world around it, while he would have no control or hope of containing it.

He hates it because petty luck is petty. It cares about riches, wining bets, getting free things, and curtailing talent and hard work. It can’t (and doesn’t) win him friends or happiness or love. It protects his physical health but doesn’t give a damn about his mental, content to let him be abused and taken advantage of (especially if that gives it another chance to win a prize), so long as he isn’t hungry, isn’t homeless, and isn’t injured. (Liu Hai’s was not the first gilded cage he’d been trapped in, just one that was unusually hard to escape.)

Luck is petty but Gladstone is not.

Sometimes (when the chips are down and the stakes are high) this means that his luck has to play by Gladstone’s rules.

———————————————O0—0—0O————————————————

Gladstone had run into Fethry by complete chance earlier in the day, and he’d spent the last several hours cheerfully walking and chatting with his red-hatted cousin as they meandered their way across town. Gladstone’s luck had been in full effect as they walked, guiding their route via construction sites that had blocked roads, flying $20 bills and interesting butterflies that tempted them down back alleys and side streets, and a very memorable dumpster that gave Gladstone a bad jump scare by falling over and releasing about twenty cats into the general area. The path they’d taken had been dictated largely by whatever looked like the least hassle, and had eventually ended up with them down by the docks, getting lost amongst the warehouses and shipping containers of the many trading companies that had operations in Duckburg Harbor.

Gladstone didn’t mind being utterly lost, he never had. His luck meant they’d get where they ought to go without being late, so he was content to simply wander at random while he enjoyed his cousin’s enthusiastic rambling.

Popping out of a particularly out-of-the-way alley, he realized that he and Fethry had ended up at the main road, less then twenty yards from the beginning of the pier. What was more, he could see Donald’s car.

It was pulled just off of the asphalt and onto the concrete, and parked behind a pile of boxes large enough that it likely couldn’t be spotted from anywhere except the small alley they’d just exited. The 313 was old, and in even worse repair then normal, with one of its mirrors duct taped on, and a couple of its fender skirts boasting decently sized dents. Slumped in the driver’s seat was Donald, with blood on his beak.

For a moment Gladstone felt like he had been plunged underwater.

He had seen his unlucky cousin injured before, many times even. Donald, Della, and Scrooge were always finding a way to get themselves into life-or-death danger, and even when they weren’t trouble managed to find Donald anyway. He’d seen his cousin thrown through walls, struck by lightning, almost crushed by falling boulders, and passed out in all sorts of places weirder then his own oddly parked car. But for all that, he’s rarely, if ever, seen his cousin bleed, so he thinks it’s probably the blood that makes everything about his just scream wrong.

The underwater-feeling, the feeling of wrongness, is intense, blurring the edges of the world and muffling all sound. He can just barely hear himself shout through the veil of unreality that, for one long moment, seems to drown him.

“Donald?!”

Beside him Fethry stops talking, then the underwater-feeling shatters to make way for the electrocuting feeling of ice-cold terror, and the next moment he and Fethry are both sprinting for the car.

Donald wakes up when they reach the car, both of them somewhat crashing into it in their panic. The more important thing, is that there are bloody petals in Donald’s lap. Gladstone suddenly feels like there’s something caught in his own throat that he has to force words out past, because he knows what bloody petals mean, but no no No NO—

“Donald, Donald what, w-who—“

Any doubt is swept away when Donald goes to respond and starts choking instead, coughing up not just bloody petals but entire flower heads. Red, Blue, Green, Pink, Gold, and White, all different shapes and kinds. Gladstone feels like every emotion he has has been flicked on at once, a white-hot intensity that burns through him just waiting to explode outward. The world around him is in crystalline clarity, all his senses turned up to eleven and recording in overwhelming detail, and he’s feeling everything at once. He knows what hanahaki is but he doesn’t know his flowers, can’t decipher what’s before him. Can’t know and can’t guess and can’t let Donald die.

Donald finishes hacking up a morbid bouquet and starts trying to tell him and Fethry, voice garbled even worse then normal, about having several hours left and wanting to be next to the ocean. Fethry is listening to Donald. Gladstone is doing anything but.

He hasn’t been Cloverleaf in years, and it’s been just as long since he actively controlled his luck. Focusing in the draining way it takes to Curse or Bless is not something he does outside of the mask, instead just letting Gladstone Gander be blown wherever his luck wishes to take him.

But by god he does it now, pouring everything he can into Blessing Donald more intensely then he’s ever done before, wanting and pushing, making bets against himself with devastating consequences if Donald dies. Deciding, with no hesitation or room for chance, what he’ll do —do to himself— if this goes wrong. Gladstone will never be okay again if Donald dies, making his luck agree is just a matter of making sure it knows that he means physically too.

He stifles and kills the urge to Curse whoever hurt his cousin, because that won’t help Donald now. But eyes are burning red with roiling anger, fear and worry adding fuel to the fire, the temper he shares with Donald on the few occasions he’s well and truly ticked on full display. And he will not release his death grip on his cousin’s arm.

And Gladstone doesn’t know it, but Paperinik has seen Cloverleaf Curse and Bless before, and can very much recognize the light static electricity jumping between his cousin’s feathers and the look of vicious concentration on his cousin’s face, even if he wasn’t expecting it at all.

Several miles across town in McDuck Mansion, six people discover they abruptly need Donald for something all at once. The worry that begins to break out when they can’t find him anywhere bubbles over into full blown panic as one of them trips into a trashcan, and a bunch of bloody petals are flung out as it goes flying.

———————————————O0—0—0O————————————————

Well! That wasn’t how I was expecting to loose my day. @bamboozledeagle this is your fault, I woke up to your Hanahaki post sitting at the top of my Tumblr dash, and spent the whole rest of the day writing it on-and-off. Then when I went to post it the WiFi crashed :/ so I had to wait a day.

This is completely unedited, so sorry about any glaring mistakes. I probably change style several times and I think I even changed tense once on accident. Oops. Also sorry about the formatting, I wrote it on notepad and then just copy-pasted to here, and only bothered fixing the italics.

The Gladstone/Cloverleaf on display here is my own version that I started playing around with after reading this post by @adamarinayu: https://adamarinayu.tumblr.com/post/176467180262/hey-yall asking for a competent version of Cloverleaf, but haven’t actually written anything with prior to this.

Blessing and Cursing is just what he calls manipulating his luck to make good things or bad things happen to other people. It also has the added bonus of helping protect his identity by making Cloverleaf seem magical instead of lucky.

Oh and Bam, the chicken in a pink cape line is also your fault by the way: *1 https://bamboozledeagle.tumblr.com/post/617956657118511104/i-love-how-in-your-and-other-peoples-aus

Sorry if the links don’t work on mobile.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Eccentricity [Chapter 5: I’ve Lived The Life And Paid For Every Crime]

Series Summary: Joe Mazzello is a nice guy with a weird family. A VERY weird family. They have a secret, and you have a choice to make. Potentially a better love story than Twilight.

Chapter Title Is A Lyric From: Some Kind Of Disaster by All Time Low.

Chapter Warnings: Language, references to drugs and violence.

Other Chapters (And All My Writing) Available: HERE

Tagging: @queen-turtle-boiii​​​​ @bramblesforbreakfast​​​​​ @writerxinthedark​ @maggieroseevans​​​​​ @culturefiendtrashqueen​​​​​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​​​​​ @escabell​​​​​ @im-an-adult-ish​​​​​ @someforeigntragedy​​​​​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​​​​​​​​​ @deacyblues​​​​​ ​ @tensecondvacation​​​​​​ @brianssixpence​​​​​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @some-major-ishues​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @loveandbeloved29​

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! 💜

Easy Questions, Evasive Answers

“So it was nothing,” Archer said, glancing up from where he was tinkering around beneath the hood of my 1999 Honda Accord, checking hoses and belts and dipsticks. “This is pathetic, by the way. That you can’t change your own windshield wiper fluid. Dishonor on you. Dishonor on your cow.”

“I never had my own car in Phoenix!” I objected around a mouthful of a Starbucks pumpkin muffin, my first of the season. And that was true: Renee and I couldn’t afford one. “I didn’t have to learn about car things!”

“No, it’s great, I love it, I have a customer for life.”

“It was totally nothing,” I told him. Meaning the photograph in the newspaper article from 1979. Meaning my paranoia surrounding beautiful, brooding, certifiably lethal Benjamin Lee.

Not Lee, I reminded myself. Benjamin August Hardy, born November 3rd 1893.

“Was it really?” Archer asked, skeptical.

“Uhhh, you were the one who was making fun of me for thinking he might be a time traveler. Or a bigfoot.” Or a vampire.

“Yeah, okay, true...” He let the hood of the Honda fall shut with a bang, then wiped the muddy streaks of motor oil from his hands with a stained rag. “But you were freaked out. Like super freaked out.”

“I was, yeah. But it wasn’t him in the photo. I took another look, there were freckles and, uh, like, uh, some other things that didn’t match up.”

“Huh.” Archer watched me with an expression I couldn’t read. “I didn’t notice that.”

“Ben laughed about it. Probably thinks I’m an idiot. A stalker and an idiot.”

Archer smirked slyly. “He must not have held it against you too much. I’ve never seen that guy laugh in my life.”

I took a moody bite of my muffin, rolled my eyes, feigned shallow schoolgirl angst. “Trust me, he’s not my biggest fan.”

“Ohhhh, and this bothers you?” Archer sauntered over and stole a crumbling hunk out of the pumpkin muffin. “Does someone have a little crush on the gorgeous, grouchiest Lee?”

“Definitely not.” I sipped my chai latte, contemplative, debating telling him more.

“Uh oh. There’s something else, I can see it. Spill the tea, you walking college-chick-who’s-obsessed-with-fall stereotype.”

“I’m so excited! I’m going to get to see changing leaves this year!” Cacti are majestic, ancient, intrepid, and they remind me of home; but they never change. They’re like desert earth that way, like the ocean. Like vampires, actually.

“We’ll have to do all the Instagram-worthy stuff. Pumpkin patches. Hay mazes. Apple picking...you can even bring that Ben guy if you want to. If he promises not to murder me with his mysterious time-travelling demon powers.”

Oh, kid, you have no idea. “So...I am kind of into a Lee guy. But it’s not Ben.”

Archer gasped, inhaled pumpkin muffin morsels, bent over as he hacked them out of his lungs. “Who?!” he rasped, scandalized, and then coughed again.

I couldn’t help but smile as his name spilled out: “Joe.”

“Which one is that? The Middle Eastern Men’s Vogue model one?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “No, not Rami. He has a girlfriend, by the way.” And has for the past half a century.

Archer wiggled his eyebrows. “Just because there’s a goalie doesn’t mean you can’t score.”

“Oh my god, please never say that phrase again.”

“Joe is the...” He closed his eyes as he drummed his fingers against the metal workbench, trying to remember.

“The Italian one,” I finished for him.

“Ahhh. The annoying one.”

“He is not annoying! Why do people keep saying he’s annoying?! He’s hilarious, and sweet, and lowkey wicked smart, and, and, and...”

Archer whistled, grinning, his dark eyes sparkling. “Damn, girl. You do like him. You really like him.”

I sighed in defeat. “Okay. I really, really like him.”

“Like him as in would swipe right on Tinder, or like him as in you want to get married and honeymoon in Hawaii and have twelve pasty, angular babies?”

“Oh wow.” And for the first time, I was confronted with the singular enigma that was a future with Joe. Vampires had relationships with other vampires, obviously, even marriages; but that didn’t mean the same rules applied to humans. Did he like me? Could he like me? What would that even look like? How would it end? And it would have to end, of course, eventually. Unless somehow I stopped aging too. “More than just a right swipe. We’ll see about the twelve kids.”

“Just make sure he wraps it before he taps it. I’m too young to be an uncle.”

“Stop,” I pleaded, gulping down my latte, averting my gaze across Archer’s small garage filled with customers’ vehicles, pretending not to be intrigued and yearning and petrified. I couldn’t imagine hooking up with someone as faultless and—presumably—experienced as Joe and being anything but a disappointment. I’ve never hooked up with anyone. At all. Ever.

“What?” he asked, concerned, thieving another piece of my pumpkin muffin. Powdered sugar dusted his fingers like the snow I’ve only seen two or three times in my life.

“Nothing. I just really wish you went to Calawah too.”

“And give up all this easy money from clueless suburbs people like you?” Archer beamed, wily and proud and affectionate. “Not a fucking chance.”

No More Sad Spaghetti

Joe gawked in horror, chomping noisily on his Big League Chew bubblegum, as I unwrapped the peanut butter sandwich I’d packed for lunch. It was mostly cloudy in the early September sky overhead, but he was still wearing sunglasses. He had traded in his ubiquitous U Chicago apparel for a Cubs t-shirt. Squirrels scurried through the bigleaf maple trees that dotted the campus, snatching up acorns with tiny clawed paws, wriggling whiskered noses in our direction.

“What’s your problem?” I asked, taking a bite. “It’s not sad spaghetti.”

He blew a small pink bubble, then popped it with his teeth. “Yeah, but it’s...like...mangled.”

“It got trapped between my textbooks!” I protested. Admittedly, the accordion-shaped peanut butter sandwich—my vegetarian alternative to fishstick Thursday—kind of sucked.

“You can’t eat that. Oh my god. It’s making me so sad. Give it to the squirrels.” Joe pulled out his iPhone. “What’s your preferred pizza topping?”

“I can’t tell you,” I replied, tossing my sandwich towards the nearest tree. A hoard of squirrels immediately descended upon it and proceeded to battle for dominance, emitting shrill, peanut-butter-crazed shrieks.

His brow furrowed. “Why can’t you tell me?”

“Because you might not like me anymore.”

“Why would I not like you because of pizza...?” And then he knew. “Oh no, oh god, please don’t say pineapple.”

“I’m a pineapple pizza person.”

“Baby Swan,” Joe said, deadly serious, pressing his palms together. “That is straight up sacrilegious. You can’t put tropical fruit on a pizza. You realize I’m Italian, like an actual Italian. I’m so Italian I’ve killed other Italians for being the wrong kind of Italian. That’s how Italian I am.”

“I feel like maybe I shouldn’t socialize with literal mobsters. It’s unsavory.”

“Settle down, I’m ordering the half-pineapple pizza, you freaking barbarian.”

I watched Joe as he tapped his thumbs against the screen, humming to himself, amused, perpetually buoyant. And I couldn’t picture him as a monster, as a killer: pulling triggers, slitting throats, digging blades into soft vulnerable love handles, feeling for the mortal puncture of a lung or kidney. I asked him, my voice quiet, hesitant, almost lost in the autumn wind: “Did you actually hurt people?”

“Nah. I didn’t have the stomach for it, even back then. I was on the deal-making side of things. The business side. I was a people person, a smooth talker, astronomically charming.”

I smiled, mischievous. “That’s difficult to imagine.”

“Okay, so no cheesy breadsticks for you.”

“I’m sorry, mob guy. Please order the breadsticks. You’re so charming I can’t stand it. My jeans are unzipping all by themselves.”

He raised an eyebrow and grinned. “So you’ll sacrifice your dignity for breadsticks. Good to know.” He finished typing and laid his iPhone on the grass. “Alright, next question.”

“Does your hair grow?” Joe’s hair—I couldn’t help but notice—seemed longer than it was the day I met him a week and a half ago, disorderly and auburn-tinted, ruffling in the breeze.

“It does, yeah. Hair and nails still grow. So you have to shave, but you can’t get razor burn. And any nicks close right up.”

“Very cool. How often do you need to eat? You know...actually eat.”

“It varies, but generally twice a week.”

“And what kind of animal has the tastiest blood? Besides...well...” I gestured towards myself. “The upright two-legged kind with opposable thumbs and a partiality for pineapple pizza.”

He blew another bubble, then leaned in towards me. And I realized, for the first time, that he had his own inherent, exclusive, totally Bath-And-Body-Works-worthy scent as well; Dr. Gwilym Lee was sandalwood and campfires and log cabins, Mercy was roses and vanilla...and Joe was pine trees, peppermint, cold night air, like all of that eternally youthful magic of Christmas Eve sieved into a bottle. I popped the sheer pink bubble with the cap of my blue pen. Joe asked: “Do humans like chocolate or vanilla ice cream? Coffee or tea? Baseball or something hella lame?”

“Depends on the human.”

“Exactly. Same deal for vampires. I prefer bears, especially grizzlies. Lucy and Mercy like deer, elk, moose, animals like that. Ones with hooves. Weirdly, Rami’s favorite is crocodile, I think because it was the first thing he ever tried in Egypt. He doesn’t get it very often, but has been known to buy them on the black market on occasion. Scarlett likes mountain lions. Also domestic cats, but you didn’t hear that from me. Gwil is a wolf guy, but he won’t kill the endangered kinds. Such a gentleman.”

“How about Ben?”

“Ben’s still coming around to the whole eating animals thing. I don’t think he has a favorite yet.”

Joe isn’t a killer, and he never was; I could believe that. But Ben... “Why is he so different than the rest of you?”

“That’s...kind of a long story,” Joe replied carefully.

“It wouldn’t be such a long story if people stopped talking about how it’s a long story and actually told it to me.”

He flashed a grin, revealing white canine teeth filed into points; they were subtle, yes, but they were there. Fangs. I envisioned pressing a fingerprint against them and feeling the flesh split in two, the blood dripping down onto his tongue like Washington rain. And unlike Joe’s skin, mine wouldn’t knit back together on its own. “But then I wouldn’t have the pleasure of tormenting you with the prospect of incredibly juicy yet confidential information!”

I rolled my eyes, sipped my can of Diet Coke, returned my attention to our lunch plans. “So garlic doesn’t repel you. That part of the lore is completely made up.”

“Yup. Thank god. Eternal life would be worthless without pizza.”

“Can you do drugs? Get drunk?”

“We can’t overdose, but we can get the effects of anything we consume. It’s not a good habit to get into though. If you’re nodding on heroin for like four days at a time, it’s pretty easy for some other vampire to find and murder you.”

“So a vampire can be killed by another vampire.”

“Absolutely. Next question.”

I consulted my mental list. “Do you sleep?”

“Yeah. Well, kind of. We nap for a few hours a day.”

“What happens if you don’t?”

“We get bitchy. Really bitchy. We essentially turn into Ben.”

I laughed, chewing absentmindedly on the end of my pen. “So that’s his problem. He hasn’t napped in a century. Now it all makes sense.”

“Something like that,” Joe said. “You gonna come over tonight?”

“I don’t know. I’m supposed to present The Walruses And Me tomorrow and I still haven’t started the book.”

“What do you know, I can tell you all about The Walruses And Me!”

“Seriously? You’ve read it?”

“No, but I can enthusiastically narrate the Wikipedia article to you while you pet Mercy’s alpacas.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“Terrible for your grade in Marine Mammals. Good for your development as an interesting and happy human.”

“Nice try, but I’m already both of those things.”

Joe reached out suddenly, jarringly, and ran the back of his hand across my cheek. My favorite Lee, I thought, thoroughly transfixed but trying to hide it. Oh no. “Interesting, definitely. But I have this gnawing, distressing suspicion that you’re still working on the happy part.”

“I miss the desert,” I confessed. That wasn’t quite all of the problem, but it was accurate: I missed the heat, the sun, the parched prehistoric air I had always called home. Although I was beginning to find reasons to like Forks, Charlie and Archer and the promise of a Pacific Northwestern autumn; and then one big reason in particular. A very old, pale, chatty, Italian reason.

“A bit of a quandary for a future marine biologist,” he replied gently, perhaps apprehensively.

“I always figured I’d live somewhere like San Diego or Los Angeles or Galveston. Someplace on the ocean, but also sunny and hot and with palm trees. The best of both worlds. But you couldn’t go there with me, could you?”

Oh no.

Oh NO.

Oh fuck, this is definitely a crushing-on-Lee-boys zone.

Joe stared at me through his sunglasses, chomping on his Big League Chew, the corners of his mouth turned up and etching lines like parentheses into his face, pleased and nodding slowly and triumphant somehow. Then he struck out his hand again, this time with his pinky raised like a flagpole. “No more pathetic depressing lunches.”

“You got it. No more sad spaghetti. No more sad peanut butter sandwiches. You have my solemn, human vow.”

He smiled as his pinky entwined with mine. “No more sad anything.”

“So this vampire thing sounds like a pretty sweet gig. No dying, no consequences for a hellacious diet or wild condomless orgies, literal superpowers, perfect hair...why doesn’t everyone get to live that way?”

He shrugged; and there was an unfamiliar, meditative tension in his face. Almost sorrow. “It’s not all pizza and orgies and heroin. We have weaknesses too.”

“Like what?”

“Hey, look!” Joe piped cheerfully, twisting around towards the parking lot. “I think our GrubHub guy is here.”

Bad Blood

I was definitely regretting that fourth slice of pineapple pizza as I waddled into Chemistry, navigating sluggishly around the hulking frat boys and giggling sorority girls and mousy bookish types who lugged around colossal backpacks that were always threatening to knock an unsuspecting passerby off their feet at each unthinking turn. But while I was arriving in the classroom—physically, anyway; emotionally I was standing in an empty field somewhere screaming I cannot be falling in love with a hundred-year-old mobster vampire!! into the void—Ben was a countercurrent darting through the crowds and towards the hallway door.

“Where are you rushing off to, old guy?” I asked him. “Bingo? To renew your AARP membership? To walk vigorously around the inside of a mall?”

Ben responded in that deep, low, humorless voice. “They’re doing some kind of blood typing experiment today. I probably shouldn’t be around for that.”

“Oh.” I glanced over at Professor Belvin, who was indeed hunched over the table at the front of the classroom and laying out rows of Q-tips and rectangular paper cards and alcohol swabs and bottles of clear liquid, whistling what sounded like Time Of The Season.

Ben sighed irritably, rubbing his crinkled forehead. “I already used up all my absences. I’m gonna have to make up a compelling last-minute tragedy. Tell Professor Belvin my grandma died or something.”

“I mean, technically, she did at some point.”

“Ugh,” Ben replied, not consoled at all.

“Wait, I got this.”

I gripped my belly, sank into the nearest chair, and groaned dramatically. It really didn’t require all that much acting. Ben watched with huge green eyes, confounded.

“Miss Swan!” Professor Belvin cried, rushing over. He was wearing khaki pants, a white shirt, and suspenders and a matching bowtie patterned with bubbling multicolored test tubes. Belvin had been Charlie’s classmate from kindergarten through high school, and still palled around with him over Bud Lights and low-quality nachos on bowling league nights. Bowling was, evidently, the sport of choice for middle-aged Forks dads. Also for Welsh vampire pseudo-dads born in the 1400s.

I whimpered in reply.

“Are you alright, Miss Swan?” Professor Belvin asked worriedly. A few students had begun to congregate around the scene. I felt a pang of genuine nausea as perspiration beaded at my temples. You better appreciate this, Mr. Hardy.

“I’m okay,” I said, in my most pained and martyrish voice. “I don’t want to miss...today’s lesson...it looks so fascinating...but I didn’t wash my kale thoroughly last night and then I had a salad for dinner and now I might have food poisoning.”

“You poor thing!” Belvin exclaimed, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about class. You can just answer some textbook questions or something, no problem. Please go get checked out to make sure you’re alright.”

“Could someone...maybe...help me get to the campus clinic...?” My eyes listed towards Ben. “Maybe...my lab partner?”

“That’s a good idea.” Professor Belvin turned to Ben. “Mr. Lee, would you be willing to escort Miss Swan to the clinic? You can do an alternative assignment as well. If you don’t mind missing the blood typing lab.”

“I’d be delighted to help,” Ben responded, still puzzled. I offered him my hand, and Ben took it, grimacing as he led me out into the hallway. As soon as we were alone, he dropped my hand and opened up several feet of space between us.

“Thanks so much, Miss Swan, you are a lifesaver,” I said, imitating his morose, rumbling British accent. “Oh, you’re very welcome, Ben. You can repay me in basic courteous conversation and Starbucks gift cards and by maybe not killing me.”

“So you’re totally fine?” Ben asked flatly.                

“Of course. Nobody with taste eats raw kale.”

Frowning, frustrated, he started puffing on his vape pen. “You need to stop doing nice things for me. It’s extremely disorienting.”

“This may be difficult for you to come to terms with, but you, Ben Hardy, are worth being the recipient of nice things.”                          

“No, you still don’t get it,” he snapped, grabbing my wrist, spinning me around to face him in the empty hallway. “That’s all I’ve ever done. Kill people like you.”

The Fire

“Who is the cutest little alpaca I’ve ever seen?!” I cooed in a squeaky falsetto, scratching her wooly brown chin. “Who’s going to come home and live with me and Charlie forever?!”

“That’s illegal, ma’am.” Joe was watching me, arms crossed over his Chicago Cubs t-shirt, smiling wistfully.

“It is not!”

“It actually is,” Rami added. He was lying on the grass and gazing up into the roiling, grey, late-afternoon clouds with his fingers laced behind his black hair. None of the Lees were wearing sunglasses now. “A house has to be zoned as farmland to have alpacas, which ours is. Yours, tragically, is not.”

“What are you, a lawyer?” I shot back.

Rami grinned. “I was once. And I will be again, in approximately...let me count...five years.”

“That’s what you want to do with your boundless time and energy? Be a corporate shill?”

Joe cackled. “He tried that already. It lasted about five minutes.”

“Manhattan in the 1980s,” Rami reminisced dreamily. “Hundred-hour workweeks. Cocaine everywhere. What a time to be alive. And I hardly ever left the office, so the sunlight thing wasn’t a problem.”

“Okay, so you’re not in it for the Maseratis or the drugs...”

“I’m going to be an immigration attorney,” Rami told me. “Help refugees apply for asylum to come to the United States. Arabic-speaking refugees, in particular.”

“Wow. I stand corrected. That’s wonderful, Rami. I now feel like a total tool for only aspiring to save sea turtles.” But it made sense, of course. What would any good person spend eternity doing? Making the world just a tiny bit better. I glanced at Joe, teasing him. “And you just study how to get rich, huh?”

“I’m a venture capitalist,” he said brightly. “I invest in small businesses, counsel them, encourage them, connect them with other people in the industry, help them grow. And I don’t need the money, so I take a practically microscopic equity stake. I’m basically a professional charitable donor.”

“And you get to put all of those charming mob-guy skills to use.”

Joe winked. “Exactly.”

“Doesn’t it get old?” I asked both of them. “Being college students?”

Rami shrugged. “No really. The world changes, schools of thought evolve, our own interests fluctuate. Every few decades we circle back and go for another round, fresh degrees, maybe new professions entirely. You learn something new every time.”  

“And I’ve been waiting for all my old professors to die so I could go back to U Chicago for fifty years!” Joe shouted. “I’m fucking pumped!”

“But...don’t you already know everything...?”

Joe chuckled. “We’re vampires, Baby Swan, we’re not prodigies. We’re sharper than the average person, sure. But it still takes effort to learn. And we all have things we suck at.”

“Like not being obnoxious,” Rami said, nodding to Joe.

“Like not minding our own fucking business,” Joe hurled back.

“I cannot control the fact that I’m a literal mind reader—”

“You boys behave yourselves,” Mercy called in her relaxed, drawling Southern accent, swinging a basket of carrots and zucchinis and cabbages that she’d dug out of her garden, wearing a long flowing yellow dress and her hair tied up in a scarf. She plodded over in her bare feet, handed me a few carrots, then pointed to the chocolate-colored alpaca I was petting. “That lady there is Athens. And the black and white one by Joe is Augusta. Then there’s Norcross, and Alpharetta, and Savannah...and that real chubby grey one heading into the barn is Marietta.”

“I adore them,” I replied, beaming. Mercy had sheep and pigs and a couple of cows too, all ambling contently around the emerald green field as the first threads of fiery, rust-hued sunset were lighting up the horizon.

“We used to have ducks, too,” Mercy mused. “But they disappeared recently...”

Rami passed Joe a knowing smirk. Joe mouthed back menacingly: Do not.

“Hey mom,” Rami piped.

Joe jabbed an index finger at him. “No, don’t you dare, don’t you fucking dare—”

“Joe ate the ducks.”

“You bitch!” Joe cried.

“Oh, Joseph,” Mercy sighed mournfully, lifting a brush out of her basket and dragging it down Athens’ fuzzy back.

“I’m sorry! It was one time! I was weak!”

“I’m not angry, sweetheart,” Mercy said. “I’m just disappointed.”

“Mom, that’s worse!”

Rami climbed to his feet and swatted grass and leaves off his cardigan sweater. “Alright folks. My work here is done. Peace out.”

“Oh no, you don’t get to do a hit and run like that, hey, Rami, hey, hey, come back here!”

Joe trotted after him, shouting a litany of insults, as Rami laughed hysterically and careened into the house. Lucy and Gwil were in the kitchen baking chocolate chip cookies; Scarlett was in the garage changing the brakes on Ben’s Vantage; Ben was noticeably absent from the Lee household and presumably out hunting. It was remarkably easy to picture his fingers closing around bloodied flesh, a wolf’s or a bear’s or an elk’s, lowering his fangs to a pulsing jugular.

“So you’re really into this whole farming thing,” I said to Mercy, looking out over the field rimmed by towering western hemlock trees. I didn’t know exactly how many acres of land the Lees owned, but it was a lot. Mercy adopted rescue animals, donated vegetables from the garden to local food pantries, and occasionally rented out the barn as a wedding venue.

“I’ve always loved it. I had a farm, you know. Before I met Gwil.”

Before she died.

“I didn’t know that,” I murmured, wanting to learn more, afraid to ask, never meaning to pry or offend. “I remember you mentioned the Civil War, and a barn...being...well...being trapped in it. When it burned down.”

Mercy nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, that’s the polite version of the story, isn’t it?” She set down her basket in the tall grass, tugged distractedly at a dark strand of hair that had escaped her scarf, stared glassily out into the sunset muted with cloud cover as Athens moseyed away. “Do you want to know what happened? I’ll tell you if you do. But I don’t want to upset you, dear.”

My voice was barely a whisper. “I’d like to know.”

“We had a little farm out in the middle of nowhere,” Mercy explained. “My husband Arthur and I.”

And it felt so outlandish to hear her say those words. Husband. She had a husband before Gwil. She had a whole life before this one.

“He had a bullet in one leg and a limp from a hunting accident when he was a boy, so he was never called up to enlist. It was a rich man’s war, but it was the poor men they sent to die in it. That’s how it always goes, I expect. And how it always will. We had two daughters, twelve and fifteen. I won’t tell you their names. Don’t take that personally, dear. I haven’t spoken their names in a hundred and fifty years.”

She turned her murky eyes—like homemade bread crust or coffee or the wood walls of a log cabin—to me.

“When the Union Army came through, they were beasts. Men like that...men who have been killing and looting and burning their way across hundreds of miles...all they want to do is get blood on their hands. That’s all they remember how to do. So that’s exactly what they did. They slaughtered our cattle for meat. They burned the house down. And then they took me and my girls, and they...they...well, you know what they did. What men do when they’re monsters. And when Arthur tried to stop them, they shot him in the chest and spit mouthfuls of chewing tobacco on him as he bled out in the dirt. Called him a coward and a deserter. Told him everything they were planning to do to me and my girls. And when they were done doing all of those things, they locked the three of us in the barn and set it ablaze. I was the only one still alive when Gwilym got there. And believe me, I didn’t want to be.”

“I’m so sorry,” I breathed, my throat burning for Mercy, for her family, for this divinely kind and benign and tender woman.

She patted my cheek fondly. “It’s alright, sweetheart. It’s not your fault. I got a second chance. Gwilym gave me a second chance. That’s what he does, you know. He finds broken people, fixes them, loves them fiercely. He gave me forever. Two more daughters. And three sons.”

Three sons, I thought. Rami and Joe and Ben. She counted Ben.

“Does someone have to be dying?” I asked her softly. “You know. To become like you.”

“No, honey. That’s just how Gwil does things.”

“But...why? What’s the possible downside? Why not change anyone who wants it?” Why not change someone like me?

And Mercy peered over at me, contemplative, curious, like tiptoeing gingerly over rotted floorboards, like weaving through a minefield. Like she was trying to figure out what I’d already been told.

“Hey Baby Swan,” Joe said, startling me. I whirled to see him waiting with a patient smile and his hands buried in his pockets. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

He led me upstairs to Gwil’s 1960s-style office, where Dr. Lee had cleaned and stitched the tiny gash in my forehead after my misadventure with Ben in the woods outside Calawah University, where the wall above the sturdy oak desk was adorned with a massive painting filled with gorgeous, unfamiliar, inhuman faces. Joe took a deep breath, and then he began.

“This,” he announced, introducing the painting, “is the vampire version of the mob. They can trace their existence back to before the Roman Empire. They find people who they think have potential, have talents. They turn them. And then they offer them a hundred-year contract. You sign it, or they murder you. When your term is up, you get to decide whether to renew or leave. But almost no one ever leaves. After a century of taking orders and guarding and killing, what else do you know how to do?” He pointed to the terrifying woman with long white hair and red eyes. “That’s Liesl. She’s literally Satan, only blonder. The chick with the tattoos is Akari. She can meet a human and tell what powers they’ll have once they’re changed. Very useful, obviously. The dude who looks like Idris Elba is Cato, and he’s actually an okay guy, he’s the one currently assigned to keep tabs on Gwil’s coven...”

I soaked the names in like rain into dark, lush Washington earth as Joe relayed them to me, strange and beautiful names: Aruna, Phelan, Morana, Adair, Zora, Araminta, Honora, Victorien, Rigel, Sahel.

“Who’s that?” I asked, gesturing to the young man standing at the center of the painting, the one with black hair and eyes so light and luminous a brown they were almost gold and a sinister, unmistakable magnetism.

“Very good question,” Joe complimented. “That’s their Al Capone. That’s Larkin.”

“And what’s his vampire superpower?” He has to have one. I know he does.

“How do I even put that into words? It’s more than charisma. It’s slightly less than mind reading. He can see through people, what they want most, what they fear. And he can make them do things.”

I gazed into those omniscient glowing eyes, feeling myself getting caught there, feeling some primal dread swelling in the capillary beds of my heart and lungs and bone marrow. “Joe, I’m thoroughly enjoying this captivating backstory, really, but...why are you telling me all of this now?”

“Because you asked why Ben is so different than the rest of us. This is why.” Joe waved broadly at the painting, at the closest thing his world had to a mafia, to unrepentant killers, to actual demons. “This is where he came from.”

[the-paper-furler]

Quotes I like

“She had thought about what book to take. Going without one would have seemed to her like setting off naked, but it mustn’t be a heavy book, so it had to be a paperback. ‘Books in beach clothes!’ Mo called them, ‘badly dressed for most occasions but useful when you’re on vacation.’” - Cornelia Funke, Inkspell.

“A crown of death around my brow ” - Krow, some work of theirs.

“Earth is freckled with belief, positively pockmarked with it. No great idea fades from the planet without leaving a mark, and we dwell in the craters. We rely on these old lines and cracks to conduct our business. But watch out; belief changes, and so do the doorways. Walk through the wrong one and it won't let you go" - A.J Hackwith, The Library of the Unwritten.

"Was there only one world afterall, which spent its days dreaming of others" - Philp Pullman,The Subtle Knife.

"How much easier would it be if everyone knew their role: the hero, the sidekick, the villain. Our books would be neater and our souls less frayed. But whether you have blood or ink, no one's story is ever that simple." - A.J Hackwith, The Library of the Unwritten.

"Scholars and soldiers are natural allies, though few ever recognize it. Both worship at invisible altars, one of knowledge, one duty. It takes a certain kind of soul to protect the invisible, to protect an idea." A.J Hackwith, The Library of the Unwritten.

"Myths are simply stories about truths we've forgotten." - Rick Riordan, The Sword of Summer.

“But I don't like cats, just Miiko." - Kotaro Araki, Animal Academy volume 3

" Lesson time, Leto. It's important to know your archetypes. You know the difference between a hero and a typical villain in a fight?"(...) "Heros are optimists. Ambush a hero, and you'll get shock, anger. Retaliation at the injustice. But a villain, a villain, now... they know how betrayal works. Strike a villain, they expect it. Villains get cautious, not angry." - A.J Hackwith, The Library of the Unwritten.

"Diversity is preferable, but only when done PROPERLY" - some random youtube video

"Us weridos have to stick together." - Eda the Owl Lady, Owl House

"STAY AWAY FROM MY LUZ!!!" - Amity Blight, Owl House

"They looked like anime or K-pop idols", Shannon Messenger, Neverseen (I like it in a condisending way)

" No! No! No! I've given a talk, you can keep the dress as well! ... And so in the future, I resign all claims to serve Francis Chesney of Charley's Aunt. " - Babs, Charley's Aunt

"Ever held a spinning top on the tip of your finger? You can feel it moving under its own power, tilting in all directions. The sword was like that. It swung itself... blocking surt's fiery blade. Then it spun in an arc, dragging my arm along with it, and hacked into Surt's right leg" - Rick Riordan, the Sword of Summer.

"I'm Donna Lucia d'Alvadorez... I'm from Brazil... the place where the nuts grow... haha." - Babs, Charley's Aunt.

"I've seen it in the books I read. A magic that you cannot see. There's no limitations, they wear it with pride" - Joriah Kwame, Ordinary

"osmanthus wine tastes the same as i remember, but where are those who share the memory" - Zhongli, Genshin Impact

"Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury signifying nothing." - (Macbeth, V, V, 25-27)

" History is a gallery of pictures in which there are few originals and many copies" - Alexis de Tocqueville.

" Hay ninas con pene, ninos con vula y' transfobicos sin Dientes " - Aidan Thomas, Cementary Boys

“I know in this world that it (bookworm) probably means some big scary monster, lbut in the human world that’s just a cute name for nerd.” - Luz Noceda, the Owl House

“EDA! You’re embarrassing me in front of my crew.” - Raine Whispers, the Owl House

“ ‘ I worked with a gunsmith in Novyi Zem who knew I was a Fabrikator. We came up with some crazy stuff.’

‘For killing people.’

‘You build bombs merchling. Spare me your judgment.’

‘My name is Wylan. And you’re right. I don’t have any business criticizing you.’

‘Don’t start doing that.’

‘What.’

‘Agreeing with me,’ said Jesper. ‘Sure path to destruction.’

‘I don’t like the idea of killing people, either. I don’t even like chemistry.’

‘What do you like?’

‘ Music. Numbers. Equations. They’re not like words. They...they don’t get mixed up.’

‘If only you could talk to girls in equations.’

There was a long silence, and then, eyes trained on the notch they’d created in the link, Wylan said, ‘just girls?’

Jesper restrained a grin. ‘No. Not just girls.’ “- Leigh Bardugo, Six of Crows.

“ The trick is in getting back up. He kept her voice in his head, repeating those words, again and again, as he stripped off his boots, his clothes, and finally his gloves.

He saw that Jesper was staring at his hands. ‘What were you expecting?’ Kaz growled.

‘Claws, at least,” Jesper said, shifting his gaze to his own bony bare feet. ‘Possibly a spiny thumb.’ “ - Leigh Bardugo, Six of Crows.

“ ‘No mourners.’

‘No funerals.’ “ - Leigh Bardugo, Six of Crows.

“ Jer molle pe oonet. Enel mord je nej afva trohem verret. (translation) I have been made to protect you. Only in death will I be kept from this oath.” - Leigh Bardugo, Six of Crows

[rieson]

@eternalreverie-acestan submitted; Hai I apologize if I’m not doing this correct I’m still new to tumblr but may I request a matchup for one piece? im rev I’m an afab non-binary enfp 5’7. 112ibs(underweight so I’m scrawny) I have black dyed hair that wavy pale skin I would say I’m quiet and reserved when not comfortable or used to someone and in large crowds but when I’m with friends or ppl I trust I’m a bit of a loose cannon I pull pranks , explore random places , and will do anything suggested or dared of me. sorry again if I did this wrong.

hello !! I'm glad to find another fellow afab enby here hehe, thank you for requesting mx. rev, i match you up with . . .

word count; 997

Sabo !

When you first joined the revolutionary army, you weren't really the talkative type, leaving alot of things unknown about you.

Knowing that, Sabo did his best to get to know a fellow revolutionary better!

He'd start being subtle about it but that went out of the window after the first few days since he couldn't contain his usual calm-but-feral attitude for long.

Hell he even asked Dragon for information about you-

Dragon only raised an eyebrow at him. (Dammit)

Taking a shaky breath, Sabo finally knocked on Dragon's office door.

He waited for a few seconds to go by before he heard a small 'Come in.'

He did as told and peeked a head inside the room before walking in and shutting the door.

"Is there something you need, Chief of Staff?" Dragon asked with his usual monotone voice, but you can hear curiosity if you listen closely.

"I-Uh" Sabo stammered.

Dragon looked at him.

"Doyou...know about that new revolutionary girl Rev?"

"Yeah..Is there something wrong with Rev?"

"Uh No!- Wait no not really- I just wanted to know a bit information about er because she seemed uncomfortable whenever i approached her, i was only trying to be friends I swear!-"

After awhile though, Sabo did end up befriending you and was able to hold a proper conversation with you.

You told him that you identified as an Enby and he'd be supportive of it!

He will although apologize for misgendering you for the past few weeks he's been trying to befriend you.

You'd tell him it's okay and you don't mind using any pronouns but he'd insisted he'll use they/them from now on.

Sabo isn't the overly protective type but seeing you, he really can't help but do so.

He can and will use your preferred pronouns and defend you or 'kindly' correct someone whenever they misgender you.

But if they misgender you on purpose?

Hoo boy, let's just say that's another body to be putted 6ft underground ^^

God knows how many times he's given someone a glare for misgendering you.

Would often comfort you with small gestures after that happens!

Ex; Back rubs, telling you that you're valid, and others.

"Is that your girlfrie?-"

"Partner. They're my partner, Rev uses they/them pronouns." Sabo answers with a venomous tone with a small smile just as the question comes out of the strangers mouth.

The stranger shivers at the tone Sabo sent his way.

"R-Right! And what would you lovely couple like to get?"

Turning his head towards your direction, he sent a genuine smile, "What would you like for lunch Rev?"

Smiling back at your blonde boyfriend, you scanned the menu and said "Can i...get [favorite food]?"

Sabo nodded, adverting his gaze to the vendor back again, "1 [favorite food] and 3 bowls of ramen please."

Oh man, you and sabo isn't really the best duo to get paired with in missions.

Due to your curious nature (wanting to explore random places you've never seen before), you both usually get reeled into sticky situations before you both even know it.

Koala hates it.

You and Sabo loves it.

Ah !! And regarding your curious nature, Sabo likes to take you on exploring dates !!

You'd both probably go somewhere you and Sabo agreed to explore on, and you'll either come back with nothing but scratches or piles souvenirs, no in-between.

Dragon and Koala scolds you but does nothing to stop you both, so you and your boyfriend just keep doing it.

"Oh my god, i swear i'm gonna get white hairs soon if you both keep doing this" Koala pinched the bridge of her nose as she lets out an irritated huff.

"Oh, I thought you were already a grandm- OW!" Sabo winced as Koala pinched both of his cheeks, stretching them unnaturally long.

"Shut up! Why did you even give consent to this?!"

Sabo squirmed under her piercing gaze, looking towards you for help as you crossed your arms signaling an ❌ sign, indicating that no; you won't help him get out of this situation.

You still had a life to live ! Let Sabo handle Koala's scary outbursts; nope, you aren't gonna get in the middle of it.

Sabo merely sent you a look of betrayal in return.

Also, you have a special corner filled with polaroids or the souvenirs you and sabo gathered while exploring in your office !!

When new revolutionaries come inside your office to send in their reports, they'll usually eye at the weird oh so fabulous displays of rocks, hats, sunglasses, polaroids of sabo being an idio- for awhile, but most of them chose to ignore it to respect your privacy.

But, there are also some nosy revolutionaries who had enough confidence to ask about said corner

Yes Iva I'm looking at you

"Ooh, what's this Rev-san? Oh my! Sabo-boy looks hilarious in these!" Iva spoke out as they eyed the polaroids one by one, snorting every so often.

Leaning back against your chair and stretching your arms til' you heard a satisfying 'pop!' sound, you turn towards Iva, "Oh those? It's a collection of things me and sabo gathered during our exploration dates!"

Iva sighs happily, "Ah, teenagers these days are so romantic!~"

You giggled in response.

Oh yeah, Sabo loves to hug you from behind and just dwarf your body with his height lol

At occasions where both you and sabo don't have any missions at the moment, (which is rare but there are times like these) he'll suggest playing truth or dare with you, not knowing about your chaotic side.

And hoo boy, it usually leads to an all-out prank war between you both (SOMEHOW)

Poor Koala and Hack has to clean up after you and your boyfriend's mess all the time.

Also, Sabo would try and help you dye your hair back whenever it fades, it ends messily but hey atleast he tried.

Sabo loves you; and could never ask for more.

acK i had a hard time matching you up with someone because the whole time i was switching between op characters, deciding which would fit with you more.

so, i apologize if sabo isn't the most compatible! although, this is only my take on who would balance well for you.

note; this isn't proofread, so i apologize for any grammatical errors.

[mybrothershands]

Would be very interested to read about the spoon incident...If you ever feel like writing it?

as you wish~

(sorry if this posts as one long blurb, I cant quite figure out how to make the Keep Reading tab work for those on the app)

"I'm just afraid he'll hurt someone," they would whisper in the streets. He tried not to let it bother him as he carried his drunken caretaker back from the tavern yet again. Maybe the people thought he could not understand them. Maybe that was it.

"Cairo," asked the boy as he knelt beside the man's doorstep in the dark. His voice was thick with lilt as he formed the question, "Why did you take me in?"

The man stared up at the boy, his head flush as he stumbled backwards onto the ground. He smelled of spirits, and his beard was sticky with mead. Though his eyes still seemed kind, his words flowed too easily, as if the gatekeeper had fallen asleep. "Because you're useful, Ka," Cairo had said. He then left into his house where the boy could not follow.

Even though the words said had been in the kindest tone, sweet as honey wine, they still felt rank as they slipped into the young giant's ears. He remained knelt by the doorway for several moments, eyes distant, before he got up and made his way back to the barn he called home. At least he could be alone there. He rubbed his arm against the cold as chained dogs barked at him. To be alone… yes, that was what he needed.

The boy rolled back the big barn door, revealing a few changes of clothes folded atop old hay, a single plate with one each of fork, spoon, and blunt knife, and a burlap blanket was draped over a stack of hay bales. In the corner lay a few logs, each at various stages of being whittled into crude animal shapes. He was in the process of taking his shoes off when he heard a knock against the wall. In the bay was a man on horseback. The farmer.

"The sun is not up yet, sir," said the giant, as best he could.

The buckskin fidgeted under the saddle, but did not move. The rider had his whip today. "Don't argue with me, boy. If you want to eat tonight, you'll work today. Now get your sorry self up," said the old man as he backed the horse away and started down the road at a canter.

After he had his shoe back on, the boy stood, left the barn, and followed at an easy pace. A few miles later, they came to a field, edged in forests. The two skirted around the edges until they came to the very back, where trees and rocks lay piled up on one side from the day before. Drawing his horse around, the man stopped near a stack of oak logs. "I want two sections cleared off- rocks, roots and all. That brushpile needs burned, too. No excuses."

Ka clenched his jaw, but did not argue. Arguing meant more work, so kept his mouth shut and took up his hatchet. By mid-morning his stomach growled, but after noon it grew quiet- replaced with a dull anger and a muffled ache in his back. A tree felled on his knee, a stone dropped on his toe, a branch jabbed him in the eye, it just seemed he could not focus. When the farmer returned to find him sitting down, he gave him a third task of lopping branches. Though the boy did his best to comply with the nit-picking, it wore on him like a blister.

No sooner had the man left than Ka started mumbling to himself as he hacked at a stubborn root. He worked until dusk, then returned home- throat raw, hands bloody, and body aching to find Cairo waiting for him atop a stack of hay bales with a lamp in his hand. The giant glared at him. "What do you want?"

Cairo shrugged, "To see you. You've been gone all day," he said. With a sigh, Ka took a seat, angled pointedly away from the man, who cocked his head. "What, are you not talking today? What's the matter?"

"You want to guess?" he sneered. his face was hard as he cast a glare back at the man, who blinked in surprise.

"What did I-" He stopped himself, seeming to remember something, and thought for a moment. "Did I… I didn't say something while I was drunk, did I?"

Ka was silent.

Cairo got up, lamp in hand, and walked over the row of hay bales towards him. "Look, I don't know what I said, but-" He sighed, staring up at the back of the boy's head. "Lempkins brought your dinner over."

He glanced over to his plate, piled with oatmeal and a few dozen apples. Horse food, Ka thought. "I'm not hungry."

"Yes, you are, you haven't eaten all day," the man quipped. He watched Ka cross his arms and then slur something in his native tongue. Cairo set his lamp down roughly and stood up straight. "Look, I don't know what happened, but I'm not going to have you acting like this."

"Or what? You'll kick me out?" Ka snapped. "You're not my father. Don't tell me what to do."

Cairo rubbed his face then pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not going to kick you out, Ka," he groaned.

"I know you won't. You won't because I'm useful. Useful for taking you home from the bar at night and saving you every time you get into a fight. Meanwhile I don't even have a proper bed to sleep in- or a blanket for that matter," he said as he grabbed the burlap blanket and pitched it across the room, surprising even himself that he had done it. What was worse was it made him mad that he had not restrained himself. He probably looked like some kid throwing a tantrum right now.

Cario approached the boy, grabbing his sleeve. "Now you quit throwing things and calm down! Tell me who told you that," he demanded. At once the giant turned and swore at him again, ranting in words he did not understand. The human glared up at him even as the voice came in roars, then spread his arms and curled his lip. "What is wrong with you today?"

It was then Ka grabbed the spoon, a metal one with a wooden handle. He pointed it in Cairo's face. "You are what's wrong. All you care about is yourself and your liquor. I thought you were my friend."

The man stared up at him, stunned for once. He brushed the utensil aside. "What did I do? Who told you all this?" Though he tried to mask it, there was a trace of a quiver in his voice. Still, he stood his ground.

"Oh, what, you're afraid too, now? Like everyone else in this stupid town?"

Cairo shook his head, then turned to leave. "No, you're out of control. You won't talk to me, you're throwing things, and you're acting a fool," he growled as he picked up his lamp. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"So you are scared," Ka sneered.

The human wheeled around, spread his arms, and flipped his hands. "You want to fight? Okay, we'll fight!" He bellowed. He took his lamp and pitched it at him, breaking the glass against his shoulder.

Ka let out a yelp. Brushing out the flames, the glass dug deeper into his skin. Even in the dark, he could tell Cairo had not given up his ground, arms still spread in an aggressive stance. They sat there for a moment, neither one moved. Ka gripped the spoon handle tighter. At last Cairo spoke up. "You see? Not afr-"

The next thing Ka knew, the man was folded up on the hay, and he was drawing his hand away with the spoon still in it. Certain it had not been that bad, Ka crossed his arms and looked away. The boy felt something rising in his throat, and swallowed hard. He would not cry. Not over someone who saw him as a tool. It was several good moments before he Cairo make a noise.

"Shut up, I did not hit you that hard," he said under his breath, still looking pointedly away. The barn grew silent, save for the sounds of night creatures as their howls floated in through the open barn door. He brushed some of the glass off his shirt, feeling a wet spot where the oil had gotten on it, and then brushed that off of his hands by running it over his pants. It did not stick into his palms. They had become leathery and rough since he had started clearing land for Lempkins. He glanced over to find Cairo still curled up on the hay.

"Quit being so dramatic and get up," Ka growled, setting the spoon back up on the plate. He took a single apple and popped it in his mouth, determined not to worry. When he could stand it no longer, he turned around. The boy had not really intended to touch him, but picked the man up anyway, holding him in a fist. "I said get u-"

His voice died in his throat as he felt tiny crinkles against his palm where ribs should be. The human tried to cry out, but it ended in a twisted squeak as the pain reached his lungs. Every ounce of anger Ka had had in him was replaced with raw, unadulterated fear as the man kicked and beat feebly against his fingers. Cairo never struggled. Not ever.

Ka brought his other hand up and laid the man out flat in his palms as he stared, not quite understanding. He felt his body grow weak, then start to shake. What have I done?

He got to his feet and bolted out the door, rounded the side of the barn, and pounded up the street. The few who were still about dove out of the way. A toddler screamed for her mother. A dog ran under a henhouse with its tail tucked. Men grabbed their wives and children and ushered them inside. They were right about him; they had been right all along.

At last he fell to his knees beside a two-story home, one with a fire still alight inside. "Doctor Baker?" the boy called inside. His hands were too preoccupied to knock on the door. He called again, "Doctor Baker!" He heard a shuffling inside, a thump, and then a woman's talking voice, shrill with worry.

It was then he felt a shuffling in his palms, and looked down to find the human staring up at him. He did not seem angry nor afraid. In fact it was hard to tell what he was feeling at all.

Ka's hands were beginning to shake now, and he steadied them on his lap. "I'm… I am..." He searched for the word as tears began to well. He shook his head. "Tha mi duilich."

The second story window opened, and a man of about twenty-five stuck his head out, his day clothes still on. Dr. Baker glared up at him at first, about to snap, when he saw the fear on Ka's face. The man paused a moment and then ducked back inside without a word. In a moment, the door opened, but only a head peaked out. "What happened?" he said, not daring to take a step further.

"I hurt him, sir…" he said, his breath shaking as he held out his hands. "I- I hurt him bad."

[austinpark]

⌠ MILES HEIZER, 22, CISMALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, AUSTIN PARKER! according to their records, they’re a SECOND year, specializing in LINGUISTCS, CULTURE & ASSIMILATION + RESEARCH & DEVELOPMENT; and they DID go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (multi-tasking, a new hair color every few months, being the resident parent friend, cracking jokes to change the subject). when it’s the (cancer)’s birthday on 06/25/1998, they always request their PEANUT BUTTER FUDGE from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ spirit, 19, she/her, est ⍀ @gallagherintro​

What’s up? Name’s Spirit and I’m going to be haunting the dash! Hope you got the Ghostbusters on speed dial! Anyway, let’s get down to business and I’ll tell you all about Austin under the cut. (Trigger warnings for mention of an injury as well as anxiety!)

So, Austin is from Georgia (a true Southern gentleman) and the Parker fam owns a farm! Spy work is the family business, but so is helping out with the annual Halloween hay ride and ringing up costumers after they’ve perused the market as well as the bakery in search of apples, berries, vegetables, and various homemade sweet treats.

Generations of Parkers before his father were spies while his mom’s family had a few scattered around the family tree, herself included. But as soon as children entered the picture, they retired from active duty and instead told heavily edited tales of their missions before bedtime. Of course, if a Parker doesn’t want to become a spy nowadays, that’s more than alright. Mr. and Mrs. Parker weren’t interested in pressuring their children, thank you very much. That still didn’t stop Austin from setting his eye on the prize and that prize would be following in their footsteps as a spy.

As he grew up, Austin became a pretty well-rounded individual. He was a straight A student in the classroom, did some volunteer work with his family, dominated the soccer field, loved taking coding classes, and practically blazed a trail for his cross country teammates to follow. Whenever the time came to play review games or to create teams in gym, more often than not, Austin was nominated as captain. Even his classroom rivals had to admit that he knew what he was talking about and trusted him to call the shots.

(And yes, Austin himself would agree with the label of classic overachiever. Of course, what his classmates didn’t know was that around junior high, he was diagnosed with generalized anxiety after the symptoms started popping up. Apparently it ran in the family. Who knew? Thankfully, his busy schedule helped with keeping his mind occupied and he learned coping methods from his friends who also had G.A.D.)

He attended the same spy prep high school that countless Parkers before him had attended, his parents and older siblings included. “Another Parker,” the faculty joked amongst themselves when his freshman year started. No malice was intended, but all the same, their jaws dropped one by one over the course of four years. He matched his loved ones’ accomplishments first then turned right around and blew them out of the water.

Austin graduated and just like he’d been reassured countless times, acceptance into any spy academy was practically guaranteed. So, he enrolled in a New York based academy and never looked back. Until - as the story goes - tragedy struck.

A wild night out with friends didn’t end all that well. Someone got the bright idea to hold their birthday party out in the woods and a game of truth or dare sent Austin climbing up a tree. He swallowed his anxiety then climbed until he reached one of the highest branches. When he started to climb down was when things went wrong and long story short? Austin was rushed to the hospital with a serious injury to his left leg.

After physical therapy and the news that he’d probably always have a limp, he returned home to Georgia with his tail between his legs. He threw himself into helping out around the Parker family farm and even enrolled at a nearby college where he majored in computer programming then participated in quite a few hack-a-thon competitions. The night of his college graduation, his mom took him aside during the little party they’d had in his honor.

He’d grown up hearing about her time at Gallagher, but what she said at the end of all the familiar stories took him by surprise. She’d heard that they were going to open up the academy soon to everyone. “I know you revised your life plan after what happened to your leg sweetheart,” she told him. “But just give Gallagher a try, okay? See if that old fire comes back. You don’t have to be in the field to be a legendary spy.” So, Austin made a promise to his mom that he’d give Gallagher a try and enrolled.

And fast forward to the present day where only lady fate knows what will happen this year!

Personality Time!

Austin’s clever as the devil and knows just how to put his smarts to good use either in the classroom or by making jokes that go from 0 to 100 or bright to dark in the blink of an eye.

He can also be something of a smartass when he’s really on a roll joke wise.

But on the other hand, he’s also a gentleman. Has great manners, uses sir/ma’am/mx, whole nine yards really.

Total parent friend! Austin’s quite content to hang back from the action in order to keep an eye on his friends and do the best he can to keep them out of trouble. Plus, on a day to day basis, he’s always checking on them and making sure they’re taking care of themself. He’d totally take the fall for them in the event his friend landed in trouble, even if it would make zero sense for Austin to have committed the crime, so to speak.

Not exactly (read: nowhere near) the most forthcoming when it comes to his own troubles and will straight up change the subject/do whatever he can to avoid involving people in whatever the hell is up with him at a given moment.

Capable leader! Like I said in his bio, he knows what he’s talking about more often than not and knows exactly when to call the appropriate shots.

There are moments where the anxiety does kick his ass though and on days where it’s really bad, he’s more withdrawn/quiet than he normally is. He’ll also be pretty jittery and on-edge, even irritable if something or someone pushes the right buttons a few too many times.

He’s okay with change as long as he’s able to maintain some form of control. Dyeing his hair is a type of change that he’s okay with and lemme tell you, his hair color changes at rates similar to a certain member of a certain Australian band if you catch my drift.

Connections!

Best friends (aka squad) - You just can’t go wrong with best friends! Regardless of how they met, these characters are thick as thieves with Austin and they make an unstoppable team when they put their heads together. When they’re not sending memes in the group chat at three in the morning of course.

Family friends - Perfect for a character from another legacy family! Whenever their families got together, this character/these characters were often grouped with Austin.

Rivals - Friendly or not, let’s just say it’s a near constant battle of wits and ‘anything you can do, I can do better’ whenever the opportunity arises.

Hook ups/FWB - Austin’s pansexual, so anything’s possible to say the least! Maybe feelings sprung up since they started getting together, maybe it’s just strictly an affair born out of physical attraction, the chips will fall where they may.

And that’s all I got for now! Please feel free to message me and we can get to working something out! Thank you so much for reading all of this and I am so, so sorry.

[biillyhargroves]

A harringrove fluff prompt with a combo of: “I know it smells bad, but you’ll feel better, trust me” and “I’m not going to yell at you”

hot to the touch(fic requests open)

Steve Harrington does not get sick. 

Sure, there was a bought of ear infections in the second grade, but who didn’t go through that? And in the third grade there was the chicken pox so bad he still has little pockmarked scars speckling his sides. And, yeah, okay, there was the Great Strep Throat Fiasco of 1976, three weeks that will live in infamy. But outside of his pre-adolescent pink eye and the week of relentless bronchitis in freshman year, Steve Harrington does. not. get. sick. 

Except, of course, when he does.

It starts as a tickle in his throat. He chalks it up to hay fever, pops an allergy pill from his mother’s medicine cabinet, and heads to school. By the end of first period, the tickle has become a cough that reaches deeper and deeper into his chest as the day goes on. He wears his letterman jacket to third period to ward off the chill he swears is coming from the draft, even if Carol swears she can’t feel a thing and Nicole points out he’s not even near a vent. By lunch, Tommy has to catch him before he face-plants into his meatloaf. The resulting clamor catches Billy’s attention, as Steve shoves Tommy away from him and Carol starts to berate him for refusing Tommy’s help. 

“The hell’s wrong with you?” Billy asks, one brow raised as Steve stumbles toward the door. 

“Nothing,” Steve says a bit too aggressively. Billy holds up a hand in mock-defense.

“Shit,” he says. “Fine. Sorry I fucking asked.”

“It’s not,” Steve starts, then says, “I didn’t mean-” and then, “I’m fine.”

“Keep lying,” Billy shrugs. “Fuck if I care.”

But he can’t keep his eyes off of Steve as Steve retreats down the hall, slipping into the boy’s room where he will take up a stall for the remainder of the day.  Billy thinks about going after him, but they’ve set rules for a reason: at school, it’s business as usual. No public displays, no cause for suspicion. They avoid each other when they can, and when they can’t, it’s the same old song and dance. So far, it seems to be working, and Billy’s not about to fuck it up for them both. 

Max, though, is an observant kid. She knows that something’s wrong when she slams the car door shut and the Camaro is still in park. They’r not speeding away. Billy has an unlit cigarette pinched between his fingers and his drumming his fingers to a beat that isn’t there because he hasn’t switched the radio on. 

“Dustin said Steve looked sick yesterday,” she says casually.

“Why would I care?” Billy snaps. 

“Was he at school?” Max asks.

“Yeah,” Billy says. He doesn’t look at Max at all, and Max cranes her neck to see over the dashboard. She points to the red Beemer idling by itself in the high school parking lot.

“Isn’t that Steve’s car?” she asks.

“How the fuck should I know?”

“Because he’s driven you home in it, dumbass.”

“The fuck did you just call me?”

“He’s in the car,” Max says. “I think. It looks like he is.”

“You obsessed with Harrington now?”

“You are.”

“You’re a real shit, Max, you know that?”

“Just go check on your boyfriend.”

“Max!” Billy slams his palm hard against the steering wheel, hard enough to shake the dash and loud enough to get Max to jump back in her seat. She shrinks back for a moment, her eyes wide, as Billy rounds on her- nostrils flared and eyes hot. She swallows thickly, then juts her chin out towards him.

“No one’s even here,” she says. “No one’s gonna see you.” 

Billy half-sighs, half-growls as he sags back against his seat. He scans the parking lot- which is, as Max pointed out, empty. Then he glares back at Max.

“You say anything about this to anyone, you’re dead.”

“Who am I gonna tell?”

“Just shut up and stay in the car.”

Before Max can answer him, Billy flings open his door. He strides across the boundary between Hawkins Middle School and Hawkins High School and makes his way to Steve’s car, which has been parked but running since fifteen minutes after the final bell. Billy ducks down as he approaches, squinting into the car. Steve is in the driver’s seat, one hand on the wheel, eyes half-closed. Billy hovers, waiting to be noticed, and when Steve doesn’t look at him he raps his knuckles against the window. 

Steve jolts awake, scrambling frantically to roll down the window and looking dazed as his wide eyes met Billy’s. “I don’t-” he starts, then stammers, “I can-”, and then he starts to say something else but Billy holds up a hand to stop him.

“Easy,” he says. Steve blinks rapidly, and his flushed cheeks turn redder as he registers who he’s look at it. As Steve is connecting dots, Billy is opening his car door and reaching down to unbuckle his seatbelt. 

“Woah, woah, woah, I thought we said-”

“Do you know what time it is?” Billy asks. “Everyone’s gone. Let’s go.”

“I don’t-”

“Out of the car, Harrington.”

“I have to-”

“-not fucking drive, is what you have to do.” 

“Billy, I-” But Billy has slipped a hand beneath Steve’s arm and is hauling him to his feet. Steve stumbles out of the car, falling hard against Billy as he tries to find his footing. His blush deepens further and he tries to push himself off, mumbling apologies.

“Relax,” Billy tells him, already beginning to guide him back to the Camaro. “I’m not gonna yell at you.” He opens the back door of the Camaro, giving Max a pointed look as he helps Steve into the back seat. “Lay down, Harrington. You look like shit.”

“S’not nice,” Steve grumbles, but he does fall against the back bench of the car. Billy falls heavily into the driver’s seat and tells Max to turn around. She rolls her eyes, but does as he says, and she says nothing as Billy drives right past Cherry Lane and makes the sharp left turn onto Steve’s street. His parents are out for the week- Max knows this because Billy had spending nights at Steve’s, something that Dustin asked her about when he stopped by to borrow something and saw Billy’s car parked around the corner. 

With no parents home, Billy parks in the driveway. He secures Steve’s arm around his shoulders and instructs Max to take Steve’s keys. She uses the house key to open the front door, and then Billy tells her not to break anything.

“I’m not five, asshole.”

“Shut up and sit down, shitbird.”

Max settles herself in the living room as Billy hauls Steve up the stairs, Steve protesting the whole way up, swearing up and down that he can walk on his own and he doesn’t need help and he’s not sick, Billy, stop saying that because Steve Harrington does not get sick. 

“Get in the fucking bed,” says Billy once they make it to Steve’s room.

“Oh, that’s how this is gonna go?” Steve hums with a sly grin, but his charm is hindered by the hacking cough that breaks up his words. Billy takes a pair of sweatpants from Steve’s drawer, then a t-shirt from another.

“No way in hell,” Billy says. “I’m not catching that shit.”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Steve says. “I don’t get sick.”

“Whatever, Harrington,” Billy says. He tosses the clothes at Steve. “You look like road kill.”

“You’re a real dick, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Billy says. “I’ve heard. Get changed. I’ll be right back.”

Billy leaves Steve in a bundle of blankets and gym clothes and retreats down the stairs. Max, who had been in the living room flipping through channels on a television she thinks is probably bigger than Mike’s and Dustin’s combined, abandons her search when she hears Billy start to rummage through the kitchen. She watches from the doorway as he pulls a bottle of apple cider vinegar from Mrs. Harrington’s cupboard. He pulls little spice bottles from a rack on the counter and starts to shake them all into a cup: onion powder, garlic, ginger. He even cuts a lemon in half and squeezes the juice in. Just the thought of that combination makes Max wrinkle her nose.

“Are you gonna poison him or something?”

“What did I tell you?” Billy snaps.

“I mean, that shit is rank.”

“Max,” Billy warns.

“Whatever,” Max sighs. “Just try not to kill him with that shit. I like Steve.”

“I’m not gonna kill him,” Billy says. He uses a spoon to mix the possibly-not-poison, then grabs a bottle of water from the refrigerator and pushes past Max to get back upstairs. He stops off in the bathroom and raids the medicine cabinet, shaking some Tylenol from its bottle before returning to Steve, who is half-dozing and half-dressed when Billy arrives. “Oh, yeah,” Billy says. “You’re not sick at all.”

“Shut up,” Steve mumbles. Billy sets his haul on the nightstand. He reaches for Steve, who squirms and ducks away from him until Billy’s palm lands against his forehead. 

“Shit, Harrington,” Billy says. His tone softens and he lowers himself onto the edge of the bed. He moves his hand from Steve’s forehead and gentle brushes Steve’s hair out of his face. “C’mere,” he says. “Sit up.” He piles pillows behind Steve’s head as Steve pushes himself upright. 

“It’s nothing,” Steve says. “I’m fine,”

“Uh-huh,” Billy says. He grabs the concoction he’d made downstairs and offers the cup to Steve. “Drink this.” 

“What the fuck is that?” Steve asks, turning his head away from the cup and raising one hand to push it away. 

“Yeah, I know,” Billy says. “It smells like shit. But you’ll feel better, trust me.” Steve looks warily at Billy and reluctantly takes his offering. He takes one sip, then coughs and tries to hand it back to Billy, but Billy opens his palm so he can’t take it back. “Nope,” he says. “Whole thing. Come on. Chug it.” 

Steve groans, but he tips his head back and downs the rest of the offending drink. Billy takes the empty glass, then offers Steve the Tylenol and water, which he downs like a chaser. 

“What the hell kind of poison was that?” Steve asks.

“Something my mom used to give me,” Billy says, “when I was a kid. I got these really nasty colds, and she was all into natural remedies. Most of it sounded like bullshit, but this shit works.”

“You swear?” Steve asks. “Because I think it made everything on my inside want to be on my outside.”

“It’ll settle down,” Billy says. As they talk, Steve slips further down on the pillows and seems to move closer and closer to Billy. Billy sets the water bottle on the nightstand and settles his now-freed hand against Steve’s back as Steve drops his head onto Billy’s lap. 

“Hey, Billy?” Steve mumbles sleepily. Billy rubs his thumb against the back of the Steve’s neck, and Steve’s breathing begins to slowly even out, every few breaths punctuated with a tiny cough. 

“Yeah?” Billy says.“I think I’m sick,” Steve says.

“No shit,” Billy says. “How’re you feeling now?”

“Um,” Steve says. “Okay. I think. Your mom’s weird poison thing is kind of working.”

“You want me to go?” Billy asks. “You should get some sleep.”

“I can sleep with you here,” Steve says. 

Billy listens to the muffled sound of the television downstairs, thinks of the distance between himself and Max and Neil, feels the comforting weight and Steve settled sleepily in his lap and says, “Then I guess I’m staying.”

[haydaypoptrucchi]

Hay Day Pop Trucchi - Hay Day Pop Trucco Diamanti e Monete Gratuite

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Hay Day Pop Trucchi - Hay Day Pop Trucco Diamanti e Monete Gratuite

New Post has been published on https://trucchigiochigratuiti.com/hay-day-pop-trucchi/

Hay Day Pop Trucchi - Hay Day Pop Trucco Diamanti e Monete Gratuite

Hay Day Pop Trucchi – Hay Day Pop Trucco Diamanti e Monete Gratuite

È possibile utilizzare questo nuovo Hay Day Pop Trucchi subito e si riuscirà a migliorare il vostro gioco, come si utilizzerà questo giorno di Hay Day Pop Trucco fuori. In questa guida vi offriremo una panoramica su questo strumento e imparerete anche alcune cose su questo gioco. Speriamo davvero che vi divertirete ad usare subito questo Hay Day Pop Trucchi out.

Informazioni su Hay Day Pop In questo gioco avrete bisogno di divertirvi e vedrete che ci saranno un sacco di sfide per voi da fare come lo giocherete. Dovrete mietere i raccolti e dovrete anche costruire la fattoria dei vostri sogni mentre lo fate. Dovrete abbinare e risolvere un sacco di rompicapi in questo gioco e riuscirete a trovare infinite sorprese. Ci sono infinite possibilità di progettare e anche ro personalizzare e vedrete che costruire la fattoria dei vostri sogni sarà una cosa che si può fare in questo gioco. Potrete acquistare facilmente mucche carine, calabroni ronzanti e dovrete anche popolare la vostra fetta di paradiso. Ci sono diversi rompicapi da provare in questo gioco e vedrete che vi piacerà completare tutte le sfide che questo gioco offre. Potrete anche approfittare di diversi potenziamenti e vedrete che progettare la vostra fattoria sarà una cosa che potrete fare, visto che giocherete a questo gioco. Vedrete anche che in questa potrete sbloccare infinite decorazioni e riuscirete a personalizzare la vostra fattoria nel modo che desiderate. Avrete anche bisogno di incontrare i vostri vicini di casa, perché in questa potrete giocare. Incontrerete molte persone in questo gioco e dovrete anche fare un sacco di rompicapi impegnativi in questo. Potrete facilmente competere con i vostri amici e vedrete che migliorerete il vostro gioco così come lo farete. Ci saranno anche molte stagioni in questo gioco che potrete sbloccare e vi divertirete sicuramente come lo farete. Riuscirete a divertirvi in questo gioco e potrete giocare online. A volte potrebbe essere necessaria una funzione aggiuntiva per poter giocare a questo gioco e non vediamo l’ora che tu la usi. Utilizzo di Hay Day Pop Trucchi Questo nuovo trucco di Hay Day Pop Trucchi vi porterà tutti i Diamanti e le Monete che vorreste e riuscirete a raggiungere tutti i vostri obiettivi di gioco con esso. Vedrete che avrete un’esperienza di gioco migliorata e vi divertirete con questo Hay Day Pop Truco. Come lo userete fuori, noterete il fatto che questo strumento funziona su uno qualsiasi dei vostri dispositivi desiderati. Questo significa che sarete in grado di utilizzare Hay Day Pop Trucchi su uno qualsiasi dei vostri iOS e anche sul vostro Android che possedete. Vi divertirete sicuramente con questo Hay Day Pop Trucchi e riuscirete a raggiungere tutti i vostri obiettivi di gioco con esso. Un’altra cosa che dovreste prendere in considerazione quando si tratta di questo Hay Day Pop Trucchi è il fatto che riuscirete ad usarlo ogni volta che vorrete sapere che sarete protetti. Questo significa che riuscirete ad approfittare della funzione Anti-Ban e vedrete che il vostro tempo di gioco sarà migliorato. Non avrete mai problemi ad usarlo fuori e vedrete che avrete un’esperienza sicura, dato che lo userete fuori. Vi raccomandiamo di divertirvi con Hay Day Pop Trucco e vedrete che funzionerà bene in qualsiasi situazione. Divertitevi semplicemente con questo Hay Day Pop Trucchi e diventate un giocatore davvero bravo e sfruttatelo al meglio. Vedrete che sarete in grado di migliorare il vostro gioco grazie a questo Hay Day Pop Trucchi e vi divertirete subito.

Qualche parola sul Hay Day Pop Trucchi

Ciao giocatori! Di fronte a voi c’è il miglior generatore di Hay Day Pop Trucchi che potete trovare online in questo momento! Finalmente possiamo presentarvi con orgoglio questo fantastico strumento generatore che può aiutarvi a ottenere molti Diamanti e Monete gratuite. So che questo suona ridicolo ma dopo tante ore di sviluppo di questo strumento di lavoro finalmente siamo in grado di godere in questo trucchi per Hay Day Pop! Premete il pulsante qui sotto e sarete reindirizzati alla pagina degli imbrogli. Seguire i passi sulla pagina del generatore o leggere tutto il post del blog sottomano per scoprire come hackerare Hay Day Pop e ottenere Diamanti e Monete!

Come utilizzare Hay Day Pop Trucchi

Se state ancora leggendo, allora volete avere qualche informazione veloce su come usare questo trucchi, quindi cercherò di descrivere il vostro processo in poche parole. Non è mai stato così facile ottenerne Diamanti e Monete. Questo processo è così semplice che anche un bambino di cinque anni può completare interi passi in pochi minuti e ora vi farò sapere come fare. Il primo passo è già stato fatto. Sei finalmente sul sito migliore per Hay Day Pop Trucchi e ora puoi semplicemente rilassarti e divertirti, perché è davvero difficile trovare strumenti di hacking di lavoro al giorno d’oggi! Dopo aver premuto il pulsante ‘Accedi Trucchi’ verrai reindirizzato a questa pagina dove avrai il tuo Hay Day Pop Trucchi. Una volta cliccato il pulsante troverai la pagina del generatore e la prima cosa da fare è collegare il tuo account di gioco al generatore. Aspetta un paio di momenti che il generatore colleghi il tuo account. Assicurati di lasciare l’email/nome utente dell’account a destra e seleziona il tuo dispositivo! Hay Day Pop Trucchi è il modo migliore per ottenere Diamanti e Monete gratuitamente. Tutto quello che devi fare è usare il generatore collegato qui sotto. E’ molto semplice – devi digitare il tuo nome utente Hay Day Pop, scegliere quanti Diamanti e Monete gratuiti vuoi e poi cliccare sul pulsante Continua. L’intero processo è automatizzato e richiede fino a 5 minuti. La connessione con il server è protetta da server proxy e da una crittografia AES a 256 bit, in modo che il tuo account sia completamente sicuro. Spendere il tuo denaro è finalmente giunto al termine! È sempre la stessa situazione. Il gioco è nuovo, ma per andare avanti ci vuole troppo tempo. Sei stanco di giocare così a lungo per fare finalmente progressi. Ecco perché stai pensando di comprare il Diamanti e Monete. Ma non deve essere per forza così nel Hay Day Pop, perché con l’trucchi Hay Day Pop ti diamo la possibilità di ottenere tutti i Diamanti e Monete gratuiti che vuoi. La cosa migliore di questo Generatore Hay Day Pop, tuttavia, è che siete completamente protetti e non dovete avere paura di incantesimi o altro. In Diamanti e Monete trucchi puoi decidere quanti Diamanti e Monete ne vorresti. In pochi minuti lo riceverete direttamente sul vostro smartphone. Per inciso, il Generatore Hay Day Pop Diamanti e Monete funziona perfettamente per tutti gli smartphone iOS e Android. Vi fa risparmiare un sacco di tempo, pazienza e soprattutto denaro!

Perché il Diamanti e Monete è così importante?

Con questi potrete semplicemente includere molto più divertimento all’interno del gioco. Potrai ottenere driver migliori e persino sbloccare nuovi personaggi. Purtroppo il gioco è “Paga per vincere”. Questo significa che le possibilità di successo sono molto più alte nel caso in cui siate disposti a spendere dei fondi. Ecco perché abbiamo prodotto un Hay Day Pop trucco che si può usare ovunque e in qualsiasi momento. L’trucchi vi offre la possibilità unica di ottenere tutte le cose e le costose valute straniere in gioco completamente gratis. Tutto quello che devi fare è cliccare sul particolare generatore online e non sei pronto ad andare. Scegliete voi stessi il numero di no cost Diamanti e Monete che una persona vorrebbe trovare. Nel giro di poco tempo potresti trovarli. In ogni nostro tutorial abbiamo spiegato esattamente come funziona. Conclusione Per la migliore esperienza, è possibile controllare le recensioni per la credibilità. Questo metodo vi sarà sicuramente utile e vi renderà un giocatore avanzato dello stesso. Speranza, questa guida vi sarà utile e vi permetterà di saperne di più sullo stesso. Se non sapete come progredire, allora potete ottenere gratuitamente Diamanti e Monete utilizzando questo strumento. Assicuratevi di non utilizzarlo più di cinque volte al giorno. In pochi mesi dal rilascio di Hay Day Pop è già nella top 10 dei migliori giochi per cellulari per quest’anno. Qualcosa del genere ci si aspettava da un gioco che è stato rilasciato da una casa di gioco rispettabile. Il gioco ha avuto un successo esponenziale nonostante l’incredibile concorrenza che ha avuto nell’anno in corso. Continueremo a mantenere il nostro trucchi per mantenere felici i nostri visitatori. Grazie per aver letto il nostro articolo. Saluti!

Hay Day Pop Trucchi Caratteristiche:

Aggiungi un numero illimitato Diamanti e Monete Supporto iOS, Supporto Android, Sicuro al 100% con la nostra protezione Anti-Ban, Facile da usare, Un design fantastico, Hay Day Pop Trucchi ha ricevuto aggiornamenti regolari, Molto veloce – generare risorse in pochi secondi!

Come hackerare Hay Day Pop

Infine, lancia il nostro Hay Day Pop Trucchi, quindi segui le istruzioni e goditi la quantità illimitata di Diamanti e Monete! Fare clic sul pulsante “Accedi Trucchi” qui sotto Digitate il vostro nome utente e scegliete il sistema del dispositivo e cliccate su “Connetti”. Inserire l’importo di Diamanti e Monete Aspetta qualche secondo, l’trucchi sta lavorando per te ora! Godetevi il vostro Diamanti e Monete su Hay Day Pop In primo luogo, grazie per aver utilizzato i nostri strumenti – se vi piace, lasciate i simili, iscrivetevi ai nostri canali youtube e condividete il nostro lavoro sui social media. Questo ci spingerà a fare un altro strumento di hacking! Controllate anche i nostri altri imbrogli qui!

[starswornoaths]

A Gift of Thanks and Mystery

So this is an incredibly late story that was inspired by this post (and this is the english translated one, special shoutout to @haillenarte for the translation!) that popped into my head and I only just managed to haul out of the draft it’s been stuck in since March. Bleh.

Summary: Serella receives a gift. She only wishes she knew who to thank for it.

or:

Someone forcibly take this pairing from my hands I am clearly doing n o t h i n g with it.

“How do you deal with this cold all the time?” Uthengentle whined as he bundled his cloak tighter around himself.

“You’re here almost as much as I am,” Serella said distractedly as she examined what was left of a trunk that had fallen in the middle of the Highlands. “I do the same thing you do: I dress warmly.” “But not as warmly as I do!” Uthengentle pressed, gesturing at his sister’s side. “I’m sitting here bundled head to toe, and you’re just wearing a godsdamned sweater.” “I guess I just don’t feel it.” She answered airily before swinging her hatchet and hacking off a log of lumber to use. “How much more of this do you think you’ll need?” “I dunno, let me look over the haul.” He grumbled, shuffling over to the bundle of wood currently gathered atop a blanket to keep it as dry as possible. “You know, I worry for you.” Her brother spoke up, his arms crossed as he hunched in on himself to protect against the harsh, blustering winds of the Highlands. “Seriously, you don’t even wear a hat. Half the time you don’t cover your chest well enough from the cold.” He tutted at the pointed at her. “You’re like to catch your death one of these days.” “I helped slay Nidhogg,” she protested, pausing in tying off her newly gathered lumber to wave a hand dismissively. “A little cold won’t kill me.” “Oh come on, Ellie,” Uthengentle stomped his boot to emphasize his exasperation. “At least let me buy you a scarf or summat!” “Why?” “Because Twelve know you have enough neck that needs covering while you’re out ‘ere!” He stuck his tongue out. “My neck isn’t that long—“ She began to protest with a glower when she faintly picked up a squeaky voice in the distance. “Wait—did you hear that?” Uthengentle quieted, tilting his head and straining his hearing to try and pick up anything other than the whistling of the gusts of wind. Eventually, the voice grew loud enough he could pick up on it. “Serella Arcbane?” The squeaky voice called with sudden clarity. The Arcbane siblings jumped in alarm as a moogle seemingly popped out of the blizzard to float beside them, his already white fur nearly blending in with the snow around him.   “That would be me.” Serella said once she’d recovered from the start. “Oh, thank goodness I found you, kupo!” The moogle sighed in obvious relief, already rummaging in his overstuffed mail bag. “When you’re not out on delivery runs, you’re almost impossible to track down, kupo!” “You deliver mail?” Uthengentle asked Serella with a raised brow. “On occasion.” She answered cooly. “In my spare time.” “What spare time?!” He asked, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. “You have a package for me?” Serella asked the moogle, ignoring her brother’s question — and subsequent indignant sputtering. “Here you are!” He exclaimed, producing a fairly wide but slim box and handing it to her. “Thank you,” She said, eyeing the parcel. “Who is this from?” Truly, nothing stood out about the box—a perfectly normal, slim square box, the kind one might expect from a fancy clothing shop, if she had to guess at what it looked like under the brown parcel wrapping and twine—and that piqued her curiosity, for she was not expecting any mail at all. “Ah, I’m afraid the sender requested to remain anonymous, ma’am!” The moogle said. “I’d tell you anyway, but he tipped me in good wine.” “Ever the reliably loyal alcoholic.” Serella grumbled before handing him a sum of gil as a tip. “Here, a tip from me as well for coming all the way out here.” “My thanks, kupo!” The moogle gave a salute before disappearing. That, of course, left the Arcbane siblings to stare in curiosity at the mysterious parcel in Serella’s hands.

“Well, then…” Uthengentle spoke up in the silence. “That was unexpected.”

“…I worry it’s an explosive.” Serella admitted, staring down at the suspiciously nondescript package.

“I mean, you do have enough enemies.” Her brother noted, plucking the package from her hands and giving it a careful sniff. “Hmm...don’t smell any explosive powder...”

She watched, horrified, as he brought it to his ear and tilted it slowly.

“What are you doing?!” She exclaimed, hands outstretched to try and stop him.

“Seeing if it’s a bomb, idiot.” He said flatly, looking at her like she was the fool while he continued to lightly shake the box. After a moment he nodded to himself and handed it back to her. “I don’t think it is, though—too light for explosives, and all I’m hearing in there is something soft.” He frowned. “Fabric, maybe. Or paper of some kind.”

“How reassuring.” She sighed, exasperated. “For we would otherwise be dead.”

“Risk and reward, sister mine.” He answered airily with a broad grin. “Risk and reward.”

“A yes.” She said, rolling her eyes thoroughly. “The motto of fools.”

He stuck his tongue out but did not retort. She took a moment to examine the package herself, turning it over in her hands to try and see if there were any markings or telltale signs that she could recognize but finding nothing.

“So,” Uthengentle drawled after another moment, leaning closer to his sister with an expectant look.

“What?” She asked, tearing her gaze from inspecting the package to look at him. When he continued to stare at her expectantly she blanched. “No. I’m not opening it here.”

“To Foundation, then!” Her brother exclaimed, already strolling over to his chocobo.

“Why are you so excited?” Serella asked even as she followed him toward her own feathered friend. “And didn’t you need this shit for something?”

“Ehh, you got plenty.” He said with a dismissive hand wave as he swiftly mounted his bird. “And if I need more, we can come back when we won’t be stuck in a blizzard.” He pointed to her mysterious parcel. “As for why I’m excited: we have a mystery! A puzzle I get to crack! I want to know what it is!”

“I see.” Serella pursed her lips but did not argue as she tied her bundles of gathered wood and materials to the back of her saddle. Pulling her travelling cloak out from her pack and draping it over herself, she walked over to the front of her faithful friend. “Hey there, Ullr.” She greeted her bird, giving him scritches just under his chin. “How’s about we get you back in the stables with some nice fresh hay, alright?”

Ullr let out a happy ‘wark!’ and fluffed out his feathers in eager anticipation for his rest. With an affectionate pat to his side, she mounted her faithful companion and followed her brother back home.

By the time they made it past the Arc of the Worthy and into the city proper to stable their chocobos, they felt the cold and the wet seep into their boots, their cloaks, and made haste for the Forgotten Knight.

“Right then,” Uthengentle said, his eyes gleaming with eager anticipation. “Now are you gonna open it?”

“Gods, it’s like we’re kids at Starlight all over again.” Serella grumbled, shooting him a mildly irritable look that had no true venom behind it. “I’m liable to just open it when I’m in a room by myself and never tell you what it is.”

“Rude.” Uthengentle grumbled into his mug of spiced wine but did not press her further for fear of her doing exactly that.

After tossing him one last half annoyed glance, she tugged at the twine holding the brown parcel paper together, and gasped quietly at the warm brown box hidden within.

It was a richly dyed wooden box with intricate gold detailing painted along every side, the kind typically associated with a boutique or a higher end—and more expensive—type of store. Tied with a golden ribbon to keep it shut, there was also a card tucked within the ribbon, with her name written in delicate, swooping cursive.

Uthengentle whistled low, impressed.

“What’s the card say?” He asked as she slid it out from under the ribbon.

“It says,” Serella trailed off as she turned the small note over. “’From the bottom of my heart, thank you.’” He watched her eyes scan further down the card. “And it’s signed—“

She paused, her cheeks instantly coloring.

“Wasn’t it anonymous?” Uthengentle asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Still is,” Serella replied, clearing her throat. “But it’s signed, ‘Someone who Loves You,’ so—“

“So probably wouldn’t have been a bomb, then.”

“With some of my friends, I’d still not rule it out.” Serella said airily to try and cover her flustering.

“You think a friend writes that they’re someone that loves you?”

“I would, were I giving a friend a gift in secret.” Serella said simply, shrugging. “I love all kinds of people, Uthen. Love isn’t just romantic.”

“True, true,” He conceded. “Well, go on, then.” He said, gesturing toward the box. “Open it!”

She did so, setting the lid down and looking at the beige tissue paper that padded the box with open curiosity. She lightly pushed it away, her fingers brushing against the softest fabric she had ever felt. Pleased with what her fingers had found, she carefully pulled at the fabric to reveal it.

It was a scarf, she realized with a start. Deep blue and warm and lovely, with an intricate silver pin to hold it in place, where she to wear it.

“Oh…” She cooed softly, her fingers carefully tracing over the pin, the fabric, her gaze transfixed.

“Ah,” Uthengentle said with a knowing grin. “So do you know who it’s from now?”

“I know who I hope it’s from.” Serella glared at him from through her lashes. “But I make no assumptions—“

“It was probably Aymeric—“

“You—you don’t know that!” She retorted, her face aflame. “What evidence do you even have?!” When he opened his mouth she held up a finger. “And no, the scarf being blue is not good enough—not everything that’s blue has got to do with him!”

Uthengentle closed his mouth, but looked no less smug as he grinned at her.

“It’s clearly from a ritzy place.” Uthengentle said conversationally, leaning his head into his hand. “And whoever bought it has good taste—that fleece is pricier than most things I’ve made.”

“You could have bought it, for all I know.” Serella said, her glare never wavering. “You were just ranting to me about how I needed to wear a scarf, if nothing else—“

“Flattered as I am that you would think I’d pick out something so nice,” he sighed and gestured toward the gift with his mug. “I couldn’t even afford to look at that in a store window right now.”

“…You’re broke from buying crafting materials again, aren’t you.” It was not a question.

“Dead broke.” Uthengentle confirmed with a nod.

“I was wondering why you’d asked me for logs and branches so suddenly.” Serella mused, rolling her eyes even as she carefully laid out the scarf to better look at.

“Yeah” he trailed off, looking up at her “…you’re paying for the drinks, aye?”

“I presumed as much.” Serella sighed, defeated.

“Oh thank the gods.” Uthengentle let out the air in his lungs in a relieved whoosh that made the candle on the table flicker— and promptly ordered a second mug.

She shook her head, even as she smiled down at her gift and picked it up again, carefully draping it over her neck. It was a large scarf, long enough that she could double it around her neck and still leave it comfortable and loose.

“Oh, now you want to wear a scarf?” Uthengentle grumbled, taking another drink of his wine.

“Seems a waste not to.” She noted as she settled her cloak upon her shoulders, her new scarf peeking out from under it. “It was a thoughtful gift.”

He couldn’t rightly argue the point—and really, he was just glad she was wearing something to cover her neck in this cold—so he simply drained his mug again and followed her to return their mugs and pay their tab.

“We aren’t hunkering down for the night?” Uthengentle asked curiously when she led them outside, rather than to speak to the innkeeper.

“I promised Lord Edmont we’d be back tonight.” She explained, leading them out into the courtyard and the cold. “He asked after us for dinner, and I figured you can’t turn down food.”

“You’d be right!” Uthengentle exclaimed with a wide smile. “Why I’d—“ a familiar coat of blue—and an accompanying one of silver— caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. “Well, well,” his grin turned playful. “Sers Aymeric and Lucia,” he greeted them as they walked.

“Ah,” Lucia smiled wryly. “I fear my premonition of trouble approaching was correct, Lord Commander.”

“Perhaps,” Aymeric said agreeably, a smile upon his face. “But I daresay this particular brand of trouble is welcome.”

“Well, I’d certainly hope so.” Serella said with a laugh, turning to face them as they all stopped walking in the square.

When she did, Aymeric’s gaze dropped to the scarf around her neck, and for a split second, his eyes widened and his lips parted in surprise.

“That scarf—“ Aymeric floundered for a moment before clearing his throat. “—looks new.”

Uthengentle narrowed his eyes at him.

“Oh, this?” Serella said, lightly touching the fabric. “Yeah, just got delivered to me today. Not too long ago, in fact.” She smiled. “I like it greatly.”

“It suits you.” Aymeric said, his smile turning impossibly soft.

“Well,” Serella scuffed her boot against the cobblestone, her expression almost bashful. “Blue is far more your color, if I’m being honest.”

“I daresay ‘tis a color we could share.” Aymeric chuckled.

“…Our color, then.” Serella said with a broad smile and a nod.

“I quite like that.” Aymeric said, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks.

Uthengentle made a quiet retching noise. Lucia made a faint scoff of disgust.

“We’d best be off,” Serella said, her blush only worsening as her own words sunk into her skull. “Wouldn’t want to keep you two from planning the treaty ceremony — and Lord Edmont is expecting us.”

“A good day to you both, then.” Lucia bade them farewell with a tilt of her head. Once the Arcbane siblings had waved goodbye and hurried up the stairs to the Pillars, she turned to the Lord Commander. He suddenly seemed very preoccupied with something down the steps to Foundation, as he refused to meet her stare. “You could not have signed it as anything less conspicuous?”

For his part, Aymeric stood silent for just long enough that Lucia wondered if he would even acknowledge that she’d asked, but—

“I knew not what else to sign.” He admitted quietly. “She...deserves to know that she is,” Lucia saw the flush on his cheeks darken before he turned his head away. “That she is loved.”

“...Does she not also deserve to know whom she is loved by?” Lucia asked.

“She is loved by many.” Aymeric answered immediately. “And in almost as many ways.” He spared a sidelong glance at his First Commander. “Is it truly so awful that she be reminded of all of it?”

“I suppose not.” Lucia conceded. “Still, is it truly so awful that she know she is loved by you?”

“...Perhaps not.” He said haltingly. “...And...perhaps she will. Soon.”

Lucia was beginning to doubt that very much, but still, she hoped. For both their sakes.

And hers, really— there was only so much more of their mutual pining that her patience would tolerate before just outing them to each other. It was getting a touch ridiculous.

[emmelfish]

‘After woohoo, I like to celebrate with a long hike to ponder the fact that my wife being pregnant means it’ll be a while before we can have more babies.’

Pfft, keep dreaming John. Like that want about playing for tips, nice try – you have zero creativity points. Stick to wanting to praise Tabby, becoming besties with Lucy, and befriending Darren. Also if it’s so hot maybe you should take off your outerwear when you get inside?

FACK

John: What’s the best thing about gardening? Getting down and dirty with your hoes!

Jen: These interactions ALWAYS result in one of us walking away with minus points, why would you think this one would be any different? Anyway, come look at this, you’ll like this.

Jen: LOOK! He’s watching sports on TV like he’s people!

John: Oh that’s adorable! Hey speaking of sports, how is woohoo like a game of bridge?

Jen: *screams internally*

Finally, Jen gets to hang out with some intelligent lifeforms.

Jen: Alright. ‘Examine the lives of the best and the most fruitful sim and sims and ask yourself whether a tree which is supposed to grow to a proud height could do without bad weather and storms: whether misfortune and external resistance, whether any kinds of hatred, jealousy, stubbornness, mistrust, hardness, greed and violence do not belong to the favorable conditions without which any great growth even of virtue is scarcely possible?’

Tabby: Screw this.

Jen: ‘The poison from which the weaker nature perishes strengthens the strong sim – and he does not call it poison.’

John: My wife! I am so proud of you for reading to our child and furchildren and yet-to-be-born children AND getting a golden ticket to My Muse from the spiky-haired man because of your musical talent.

(Hey it’s Justin Kim again! Wonder if he’s come searching for his Hot Tub Time Machine mom.) 

Justin: I’m a child and even I know that if you jump on her like that it’s not good for your yet-to-be-born children.

Pop

Jen: The hell is this?

John: You said you wanted new clothes. 

Jen: But blue is so not my color.

John: But darling, now you match my shorts! 🎵Off to tend to my peppers I shall go...

Glitches

John: 🎵 With a broken arm, yes oh-ee-oh

Another day, another dollar simoleon...

Jen: TUCKER II! You lucrative little furball, thank you so much for pulling your weight while Mommy is carrying so much of it and thus can’t work herself, all thanks to that great big tit I’m married to.

John: What’s that?

Jen: I said is that the Greater Blue-Tit you’ve spotted there dear?

John: I think it is!

Jen: YAY I am so proud of you!

John: Me too!

John: Unff

I’m sorry, I can’t suspend my disbelief with this game any longer because Lucy IS the classmate that saw the rated R movie, and would be the one describing boobies and butts and bloody violence to the innocent child this chance card was actually meant for. So I picked Ignore, because a) no, and b) chance cards are bullshit, they have a 99.999999999999% chance of undoing all your good work in any scenario.

Oh looky who it is! Everyone’s favorite Desiderata resident. And, three nanoseconds of a chat with Jen results in Jen’s crumpled face of confusion and Natasha’s hatred thought bubble. Shame, really.

I’ve noticed the community tends to call her Nat, but all the Natashas I’ve known in my life (all two of them) go for Tash or Tasha. I’m torn. I’ll tell you what I’m NOT torn on. Her exquisite grilled cheese dress by the exquisite @strangetomato, amirite? 🧀

GO TABS!

Good: Tabby promoted Good: Smart investing Bad: Justin falling out with Lucy, probably because he was the kid the chance card was meant for and she was traumatizing him with talk of blood and boobies. I’m not gonna lose sleep over it, he’s all the way out in Viper Canyon so it wasn’t like they were gonna be besties in childhood. Maybe at college or something.

This family, I swear. They’re like the sim embodiment of Bender’s ‘impression of life at big Bri’s house’ in The Breakfast Club.

That’s if, uh, Bri’s parents constantly make sexually-charged advances toward one another. 

Meanwhile, dat text doe! Brandi Broke Hair Hour is upon us.

Jen: Sweetie I’ve found myself wearing something I wouldn’t choose even if it were the last garment on the planet and I’m scared.

Lucy: It’s okay Mom, if I’ve lost all respect for you it’s primarily because I’m on the precipice of puberty and that’s what’s supposed to happen.

John: The heck is this? I’m the Family sim here. You can’t have it both ways.

John: THAT’S more like it. Hai little bestie!

Lucy: Hai Dad! Why are all these people in our house?

John: Oh, well Brandi Broke was on a walkby so I wanted to paint a picture of what your hair will look like tomorrow so that you’re prepared. And I got one of those annoying messages about whether I’d been abducted by aliens from Darren even though I spoke to him yesterday, so I felt guilty.

Meanwhile, Jennifer stares longingly at her guitar and gets all introspective about this five-minute lack of romance in her life, exacerbated by Brandi heartfarting at Darren. That Family/Knowledge attraction, it never fails. And yet, somehow I can’t see Dustin and Dirk as stepbrothers, but we need to find Brandi someone soon as she needs to up her brood to six for that stupid LTW about marrying off multiple kids. WHAT IF UNBORN BABYBROKE ISN’T THE MARRYING KIND, Brandi, ever think of that?!

(Makes mental note to create drahmz by making Unborn Babybroke a Romance sim who constantly disappoints its mother)

Jen: Oh that DOES it. You lot might be able to sit around waiting for these babies to fall out of me but I have to DO something.

Brandi you utter utter terrible stupid moron you are PENNILESS WHY are you tipping Jen all those simoleons 😱

Lucy meanwhile stares at her father and tries to picture Brandi’s hair on his face in a vain attempt to glimpse into her near future.

And yet... are these two meant to be though? The synchronized terrible dancing and constant thoughts of one another may be a sign. That said, Dina Caliente does that with Darren too and, much as I love Darren and Dina as individuals, the thought of that is so godawfully wrong that I always have to direct sims to speak with each of them separately in an attempt to stop them autonomously eating one another’s faces whenever they always show up in the same GD welcome wagon. #StopDinarren #SaveTheDreamers #ACRYouMonster

Lucy manages to alienate yet another boy from districts afar (like does her schoolbus refuel in Viper Canyon or something?) by saying things about art or theater that offend Gallagher Newson so deeply, he launches a tirade of vitriolic mansplaining at her while she checks her nails, unfazed. Atta girl. 

Brandi: I wish we could all get along like we used to in middle school... I wish I could bake a cake filled with rainbows and smiles and everyone would eat and be happy...

Best not look outside then Bran.

Tabby: Huh? Yeah? You want some o’ this? Come at me bro!

Tabby: Oh you think I can’t take you? Think again assclown, I’m a stunt double now, I eat fear FOR BREAKFAST.

And so the thrill ride begins. Lucy’s face is that unique mixture of anxiety and resignation that plainly says, ‘Well, my reign is at an end. It’s been real, friends.’

I love Tucker II, but the fact that he chooses THIS moment to act out for the first time in his life and start destroying the furniture is far from cool. Clearly he too is worried about upcoming changes in the pack hierarchy.

Stone cold Tabs meanwhile favors staying outside in the rain and having no part in any of this.

Tabby: 🎵 Hello darkness my old friend...

Urgh

IS NOOBOO TIME!

Spoiler alert: this nooboo actually ends up with blue eyes because I quit without saving to roll the pacifier a couple times, which is sad because neither nooboo has black hair now. But we’ll survive. Somehow. I just liked this snap.

When both your dog and your seconds-old nooboo are thinking about Brandi, it’s probably time for her to leave the house. But she won’t, because she’s a Family sim who subscribes to the stereotype of only caring about other people’s children. And pets.

3 days off? Pahaha. I don’t even have any hacks installed to share parental leave (I really should), and Jen was somehow still back at work the next day.

Poor Babygirl Burb (not her permanent name) isn’t getting a great start in life considering everybody’s just yelling about Babyboy Burb and not even acknowledging her. Well, except Jen, who hasn’t yet put her down. See that, Family sims?! That’s how to do it.

Case in point.

Brandi: Congrats!

John: Oh yeah, the nooboos? Great aren’t they. I’m sure I dropped The Boy around here somewhere.

The Boy: And my suffering beginneth...

John: The Boy! Ah, The Boy. There you are. The Boy.

(If you can’t already tell, John will be saying ‘The Boy’ in the same relieved and happy voice as the dad from 8 Simple Rules for the rest of his natural life, primarily because both of his daughters are genetically engineered to make his hair grey.)

Hey Brandi, ever feel like you’re intruding on an intimate family moment?

Brandi: Nup!

Lucy: I just can’t picture it ON me...

Brandi: Kid, what is it with you and my hair?

John: I’VE LOST THE BOY AGAIN

Lucy: Haha, my parents can be so incompetent sometimes.

Lucy: Actually... where are my parents?

Well Lucy, get ready to upscale that judgment of incompetence because...

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME. John’s face. John’s face right there. Is the most smackable face I’ve ever seen.

Not only did Jennifer Burb give birth TO TWINS less than five minutes ago...

... but they unceremoniously dumped both twins in the Bouncinators, and they’re now screaming.

To which, their creators remain oblivious. There are some pretty terrible parents out there in the Sims universe BUT THESE TWO ARE HOT ON THEIR HEELS right now.

Hey, while these poor minutes-old creatures are stuck screaming in their Bouncinators while John presumably tries to create more problems for the family with his testicles, why don’t we meet them?

This is not at all named solely to give Alexander Goth a younger wife one day Cecilia! You can’t see them here because they’re squeezed shut in agony and anguish, but her eyes are deep blue, presumably from her grandfather Jeff Pleasant. Perhaps upon looking at her, her uncle Daniel will be overcome with the guilt referenced in his bio and try to send her to Mars.

And here’s Patrick! With his skintone plus the brown eyes and brown hair, he’s probably destined to be a John / Lucy clone, but we shall see. Let’s get one thing straight though (or should I say curly), when these anklebiters transition they are both leaping right into Jennifer Burb tousled waves territory.

Lucy: WHAT DO I DO

Don’t worry Lucy, we’ll pause this one here as it’s already been far too long a round and no doubt everyone involved is tired as hell.

Until next time!

[wickedweeklywonders]

Anime to watch (series, shorts, film)

Princess Utena

-CASTLE OF CAGLIOSTRO -future diary

-junjou romantica -uni monogatori -steins gate - Mizugumo Monmon - Mr. Dough and the Egg Princess - The Night of Taneyamagahara -looking for home - Hoshi o Katta Hi - Koro no Daisanpo -ghost in the shell -Berserk -barakamon -animal crossing movie -princess utena -5 cm per second -garden of words -show by rock -pocco rosso -whisper of the heart -only yesterday -pom pokko -tales of earth sea -my neighbors the yamadas -ocean waves -on your mark -the red turtle -mei and kittenbus -boy and the beast -kyoukai no kanata -melancholy of haruhi -kaiba -pingpong - Crayon Shinchan -Mind Game -garden of sinners -eden of the east -aku no hana - American Pop - The Case of Hana & Alice -cool world -haikyuu -ano hana -mob psycho 100 -vivid red operation -galaxy express - Heroic Legend of Arslan -Psychic Wars -Ghost in the Shell -Dallos -Highlander Search for Vengeance -Kaiba -Samurai Horror Tales -Hakaba Kitaro -Azazel You’re Being Summoned -Sky Crawlers -Shadow Skill -rwby -yuki yuna is a hero -tokyo godfathers -ultra maniac -panda and the magic serpent -mahou no princess minky momo -nausica valley of the wind -lupin -mobile suit gundam -tekkonkinkreet -patlabor -neo tokyo -5 cm per second -megazone 23 -memories (shorts) -blood the last vampire -macross plus -roujin Z -jin roh - CASTLE OF CAGLIOSTRO -metropolis -professor layton and the eternal diva -urusei yatsura beautiful dreamer -highlander -princess kaguya -whisper of the heart -millenium acctress -hunter x hunter -b project -days -pretear -sugar sugar rune -princess tutu -creamy mami -fate/kalied -nurse witch komugi chan -shugo charaflip flappers -magical girl raising project -petite princess yucie -tokyo mew mew -tweeny witches -ojamajo deremi -precure -rozen maiden -magical knight rayearth -pretty cure -magical girl lyrical nanoha -day break illusion -kamekaze kaito jeanne - Fushigiboshi no Futagohime - Himitsu no Akko-chan -last naruto movie -.hack -0091 -accel world -angel beats -anohana -arria the secret ammo -bakuman -black lagoon -blood c -blue drop -b toom -canaan -a certain magical index -clannad -colorful -the count montichristo -cromartie high school -darkside blue -haruhi suzumiya -dusk maiden of amnesia -eden east -elfen lied -flowers of evil -from the new world -future diary -garzeys wing -ga rei zero -glasslip -golden time -good luck girl -guilty crown -gun buster -gun x sword -monster -mushishi -patema inverted -pet shop of horrors -Kamisama Minarai Himitsu no Coco-tama -yuri on ice -samurai champloo -yu yu hakusho -gundam seed -12 kingdomgs -ergo proxy -hanayamata -selecotr infected -wixoss -show by rock -subete ga f ni naru -occult nine -space patrol luluco -little witch academia -nagi no asukara -shirobako -danshi koukousei no nichijou -to aru majutsu no index -hyouka -yuru yuri -denki gai no honya san -boku no hero academia -netoge no yome wa onnanoko ja nai to omotta -mawaru penguin drum -mob psycho 100 -ojamajo doremi -anohana -beyond the boundary -kaiba -kara no kyoukai -ppy -urusei yatsura -szs -natsume yuujinchou -shinsekai yori -shoujo kakumei utena -tonari no kaibutsu no lion -danganronpa -osomatsu san -akatsuki no yona -shaman king -yuri kuma arashi -perfect blue -hyoka -kinos journey -fantastic children -arakawa under the bridge -erased -another -bouibu -hunter x hunter -prince of stride -kuromukuro -pmmm! -yowamushi pedal -peach girl -library wars -blood + -earl and fairy -saiunkoku monogatari -escaflowne -gundam wing -tweeny witches -ping pong -kemonozume -michiko to hatchin -paranoia agent -kaiba -wandering son -sweet blue flowers -soul eater -tiger and bunny -rwby -millenium acctress -tokyo godfathers -nasu summer in andalusia -redline -when marnie was there -the wind rises -only yesterday -pom poko -my nieghbors the yamadas -tales from earth sea -i can hear the sea -whisper of the heart -roujin Z -memories -rintaro -jin roh -blood the last vampire -dead leaves -the place promised in our early days -appleseed ex machina -vexhille -summer days with coo -colorful -welcome to the space show -wonderful days sky blue -tekkon kinkreet -hotarubi no mori e -royal space force wings -cencoroll -final fantasy -big wind up - Gangsta -Claymore -Tiger & Bunny -Ergo Proxy -Black Lagoon -Ghost in Shell -cromartie -au haru ride -guilty crown -higashi no eden -blood + -kimi no todoke -usagi drop -kemono no souja erin -clamp school detectives -only yesterday -patlabor -kekkaishi -seihou buyou outlaw star -seikai no monshou -escaflowne -city hunter -tiger and bunny -planetes -

-Trigun -Baccano! -Hellsing -Yu Yu Hakusho - Arakawa Under the Bridge -mushishi -kinos journey - Detroit Metal City -gundam wing -battery -sora wa miageru shoujo no hitomini utsuru sekai -kikoushi enma -inukami -AMAGI brilliant park -beyond the boundary -coffee samurai - -kowarekake no orgel - Ojamajo Doremi -rolling girls -sekai sefuku -inou battle wa nichijou kei -witch craft works -hagure yuusha no aesthetica -hamatora -coppelion -code breaker -kurokami -mekakucity actors -c the money of possibility and control -date a live -black cat -chrome shelled regious -sengoku basara -mushibugyou -koutetsujou no kabeneri -tokyo ravens -charlotte -persona 4 -yasokura quartet -the book of bantorra -speed grapher -kekkaishi -mandaiji tachi ga isekai -get backers -concret revulutio -bungo stray dogs -zetai karen children -senjou no valkyria -ga rei zero -god eater -soul eater -claymore -k project -towards the terra -toaru kagaku no rail gun -mob psycho -darker than black -kekkai sensen -the exorcist -tales from the crypt -aldnoah zero -aoki hagane no apreggio -ginga kikoutai -btoom -kyoukaisenjou no horizon -no. 6 -sidonia no kishi -soukyuu no fafner -guilty crown -certain magical index -gungrave -kidou senkan nadesico -rahxephon -last exile -birdy decode -higashi no eden -bukyou outlaw star -sekai no monshou -texnolyze -towards the terra -trigun -ghost in the shell -code geass -senkan yamato 2199 -diebuster - Katekyo Hitman Reborn -rwby -beelzebub -gundam 00 -kinos journey -oh my goddess -angelic layer -princess tut -samurai champloo -maid sama -samurai 7 -fushigi yugi -sound of the sky -kaleido star -charlotte -kami nomi zo shiru sekai -.Clannad -Monogatari Series -ef: A Tale of Memories -Little Busters -Kamisama Hajimemashita -Kokoro Connect -Inu x Boku SS -Tasogare Otome x Amnesia -city hunter - Super Dimension Century Orguss -golden boy - Memories (1995 film) - Blood: The Last Vampire - Escaflowne - Angelic Layer - Witch Hunter Robin - Scrapped Princess - Kurau Phantom Memory - Mars Daybreak - Jyu-Oh-Sei - Ghost Slayers Ayashi - Nijū Mensō no Musume - Michiko & Hatchin - Gosick - Towa no Quon - Blood Blockade Battlefront - Noragami -flame of recca -belzabub -strike the blood -earl fairy -detroit metal city -yona of the dawn -dfrag -otaku no video -bubblegum crisis -expelled from paradise -lord vanadis -demon prince enma -when they cry -lupin -ino boku -brothers conflict -maid sama -world god only knows -lovely complex -btoom -devil survivor -dan machi -overlord -no game no life -kono suburashii -grimgar -log horizon -b gata h kei -dragon crisis -dakara boku waourin -nourin -serei tsukai no blade dance -kyoukai no rinne -nobonaga the fool -kimi no iru machi -sakura trick -trinity seven -mayo chiki -freezing -mahouka kou kou no retousei -date a live -strike the blood -hitsugi no chaika -robotics notes -inari, konkon, koi iroha -nijiro days -equarion evol -oda nobuna no yabou -nou come -love stage -mikakunin de shinkou -accel world -boku wa tomadachi -baka to test -shakugan no shana -grisaia no kijitsu -charlotte -kyoukai no kanata -tonari no koubutstu kun -otoome youkai zakuro -sakite no ii ya -sankarea -bokura wa minna kawaisou -hanasaku iroha -macross delta -relife -toaru hikuushi e no koiuta -soredemo sekai wa utsukushii -tasogare otome amnesia -akatsuki no yona -gosick -working -baby steps -ao haru ride -kuragehimi -chuunibyou demo koi ga shitai -yahari ore no seishun love comedy -kami nomi shiru sekai -hyouka -anohana -angel beats -golden time -rakoudai kishi no cavalry -plastic memories -orange -chihayafuru -kimi to boku -ore monogatari -ano natsu de matteru -sakarasou no pet na kanojo -kamisama kiss -kokoro connect -white album 2 -akagami no shirayuki hime -chouyaku hyakuninisshu -bakuman -little busters -nodame catabile finale -sakamichi no apollon -monogatori -nagi no asukara -katanagatori -uchuu senkan yamato 2199 -shigatsu wa kimi no uso -kimi ni todoke -steins gate -yojouhan shinwa taikei -kamisama no inai nichiyoubi -overlord -nanatsu no taizai -jirui wa suitai shimashita -noragami -no game no life -shingeki no bahamut -mushishi -sidonia no kishi -hai to gensou no grimgar -tokyo magnitude 8.0 -rainbow -gyakkou burai kaui -gundam 0083 -a certain scientific railguns -gundam ???? -magic kyun renaissance -drifters -kuuchuu buranko -jinrui wa suitai shimashita -sidonia no kishi -hanasaku iroha -hyouga mono -gungrave -eikoku koi monogatari emma -saraiya goyou -giant killing -aoi bungaku -phantom -black lagoon -jormungand -lupin iii -mononoke -one outs -planetes -kingdom -kiseijuu -uchuu kyoudai -ping pong -baccano -hellsing ultimate -gyakkyou burai kaiji -rainbow -monster -mushishi -mahou romantic -kampfer -digi charat -magical play -patlabor -gourmet girl -royal space force -ellcia -ef a tale of melodies -corpse party live action movie -love stage -love chyunbyou and other delusions -natsuyuki rondevou -gachaman crowds -kokoro connect -demon of the fleeting blossom -psychic squad -quazy in a foreign labrynth -world god only knows -glass mask -hanamonogatori -shirobaka -d frag -date a live -mekaku city actors -strike the blood -ao haru ride -tokyo ravens -trinity seven -aldnoah zero -mahouka koukou no rettousei -nagi no asukara -black bullet -pyscho pass -amagi brilliant park -golden time -shingeki no bahamut -akatshuki no yona -kuroko no basket -magi -sinbad -shigatsu wa kimi no uso -nanatsu no taizai -black jack -is it wrong to pick up girls in a dungeon -blue spring ride -kamigami asobi -shuffle -kiss him not me -amanchu -battery -handa kun -fukigen na mononokean -cheer danshi -sweetness and lightning -relife -this art club has a problem -honobono log -sakamoto desu ga -gochuumon wa usagi desu ka -tears to tiara -utawerererumono itsuwari no kamen -jormangand -hatraku maou sama -katanagatari -oshiri tantei -infinite ryvius -mezz dsa -blazeblue -comic party - tenchi muyo gxp - UCHOUTEN Kazoku - Seikaisuru Kado - ACCA: 13-ku Kansatsu - Honobono Log -baccano - Amaama to Inazuma - Akagame no Shirayuki-hime - Koutetsujou No Kabaner - Oshiete! Galko-chan - Koe no Katachi - Kobayashi-san Chi No Maid Dragon - Kamigami No Asobi - Demi-chan Wa Kataritai - Arslan Senki - Fukumenkei Noise - Ballroom E Youkoso - Kakegurui - Tsurezure Children - Katsugeki/Touken Ranbu - Kotoura-san - Tsubaki Chou Lonely Plane - Horimiya - Hirunaka no Ryuusei -dragon maids -danmachi -kiznaiver -toaru kagaku no railgun -absolute duo -drifters -hai to gensou no grimgar -youjo senki -monster -kyoukai no kanata -full metal panic -euphonium -hyouka -gosick -akagami no shirayuki hime -hero academia -concrete revolutio -zetsuen no tempest -kekkai sensen -tonari no kaibutsu kun -dfrag -bokura wa minna kawaisou -oregairu -kuragehime -mawaru penguindrum -ookami to koushinryou -natsume yuujinchou -3 gatsu no lion -mekaku city actors -denpa onna to seishun op -arakawa under the bridge -sayonara zetsubou sensei -a tale of memories -monogatari -