#he’s such a big galoot

[tmorriscode]

Pretty sure if I tested this little guy’s DNA, he’d be about 50% shark

[mabelsguidetolife]

i need my dad to send me pictures of miles so i can cry again while showing everyone how beautiful and sweet he was

[occamstfs]

Ni Hao!NYC

Morally conflicted journalist puts off questions of ethics until it's just too late. Finally assigned to put his name next inflammatory content Sam finds himself more than appreciating Chinese culture.

Various white to Asian Muscle growth and racial change ahead!

Like many, I saw the final pictures on twitter and had to do something with them haha! Ended up with a piece just a tad different than usual! Hope you all enjoy! -Occam

Samuel Johnston knew he worked for a rag but as long as the checks cashed he could afford to mute his conscience. They made money not from sales so much as some rightwing think tank who wants their views affirmed in any way they can get it. So he lays low and pens little puff pieces, avoiding anything too controversial and introduces himself as an accountant to anyone he cares enough to lie to.

He’s quite adept at staying out of sight and mind when it comes to the doling out of any especially charged or problematic issues. Making sure to bury his own work any chance he gets, even using a pen name in case someone accidentally stumbles on his writing. It’s gone well enough so far he thinks! Sam tells himself that really working for NY:Red isn’t that bad, surely it’s even good that he’s got the job rather than anyone who believes the shit they write. Right?

No job is without its problems, he tells himself. So far he’s done a commendable job keeping his nose down with an almost supernatural ability to duck away from bigwigs or management. That is until now as he’s summoned by name to his boss’ side. His proficiency at staying off the radar of management has kept him from a one on one with the man in charge for some time, but now he is sitting on the top floor outside of Mr. Howard’s office, surely waiting to be assigned some horrible project.

“Come in!” Sam hears the surly man shout before promptly stepping into the gaudy office. He’s immediately taken aback as somehow the editor looks almost younger than he does in the many pictures Sam has seen. Sam hides his shock at the man’s jet black hair as well as he hides the general fear and disdain that begins to send adrenaline pumping towards his mind. Mr. Howard doesn't notice at least, getting straight to business, “I can tell from yer writing that ya like the city Sam, can I call ya Sam?”

Samuel opens his mouth to reply but the chief just continues on, “Anyway I love all yer little toilet paper stories but how do ya wanna write with the big leagues?” This time Samuel stays strong and gets a word in before being steamrolled again, “Actually I-” “I’m puttin’ you on the most important case we have Sam. Surely ya’ve noticed all this, what's da word, influx? Invasion? Bah. All the Asian shit that’s startin’ ta creep in on our city’s culture!” Samuel makes an awkward face as despite knowingly working for the racist, it’s different to hear the words out loud.

He holds his tongue out of shock or fear and his boss continues on his diatribe, “The last couple a schmucks I had on the beat just up’n left me high and dry can ya believe it! Old friends I thought!” He grumbles as he scratches his chin, moving away his hand it seems his beard thinned? He shakes his head in irritation and Sam would swear he saw his jowls tighten and wrinkles smooth over. “Anyway kid. Go out and do some prelim research. Have something on my desk by Friday or yer out just like those galoots!” Samuel stands for a second unsure if he’s allowed to leave before his boss looks up to glare with eyes Sam would’ve sworn were blue when he walked in.

Sam rushes out the door and to the elevator, riding it back to his floor, debating between writing a preemptive resignation or keeping mum and keeping on payroll for one last week. Profiteering from a culture war he may be but he’s not about to regurgitate genuinely racist talking points. He taps his foot impatiently as he thinks about just how cushy this gig is though. “Fuck!” He decides to call the only other confirmed decent human being he knows here, his friend Nick who works in the fashion dept.

The two go to grab coffee at a chain next door, Sam tries not to notice how they’ve started selling Vietnamese iced coffee. “Fuck man I can’t do it! Literally just one conversation alone with Howard was a wake up call.” Nick smiles like he has no problems with working for the dirtiest rag in the city, “Chill out Sam. Huward had my manager on the same beat and he, uh, Hidaka said that is said to just look busy for a bit and we won’t need to worry about all this racist shit anymore.” Sam squints his eyes at his friend, he’s not usually so easy breezy about work. He also racks his brain trying to figure out who Hidaka could possibly be. That can’t be his boss. No way Howard would let someone not white lead a department.

Seeing Sam lost in thought Nick reaches out and grabs his hand in a way Sam couldn’t imagine him doing before this second. In fact as the second drags on he stares down in the hand in shock, feeling the warm hand squeeze his forearm. He looks up to his friend’s face searching for any clue to the cause of this odd behavior. Sam smiles awkwardly and half-jokes “Hah hah, uh- Who are you and what’d you do with Nick… Hah.” Nick bursts out laughing, patting him on the arm jovially and leaving a hand larger than Sam remembers resting on his own. “Hidaka-san just showed me how to worry less about this job un?”

Sam inspects him closely for anything amiss, it looks like he’s picked up a bit of a tan? His hair is messier than usual and definitely a little darker, his skin is alluringly smooth and Sam can feel the heat his body is generating despite sitting across from him. Looking at his clothes Sam finds another surprise, his shirt almost looks strained! As if Nick has been hitting the gym for sometime, maybe it’s just been a while since he’s seen his friend in person? 

Assuaged in the slightest, Sam ignores the glowering red flags and follows this lede, “Woah Nick have you been working out?” Nick blushes and Sam at the very least sees his friend is as shy as ever. He goes to scratch the back of his head straining his shirt almost to its ripping point as he responds, “Ah a little haha! どうぞ(please) don’t you worry about me. Since you have no desire to write the article, why don’t you go ahead and check out the little Asian market down the street for fun? It was quite a good time when Hidaka-san brought me earlier this week!”

Sam awkwardly smiles as he wonders why on Earth Sam is suddenly referring to his boss like this, it’s almost like he’s performatively speaking Japanese. Taking a second to pause Sam looks at the haircut as hands unseen style it into something fashionable he puts two and two together. Thinking to himself, ah! Nick must just be a weeb! Tension disappears from his body with a sigh of relief as he wonders how he didn’t notice before now. He gets up to follow his friend’s advice, what better way to stick it to the man than support the people he aims to malign right?

He bucks up and grabs a Vietnamese iced coffee for the road, tossing a “Sayonara,” at Nick with a wink to which he perks up and slightly bows. Man, how did he not notice before Sam thinks yet again. Blissfully unaware, leaving just as kanji symbols appear on Nick’s keyboard and his friend responds to an email in a language he didn’t know this morning. Blue eyes growing coal dark as his tanned, increasingly muscular arms tap away at the keyboard.

Sam spends the bulk of his day at the little Asian street fair and has an absolute blast. Any residual stains on his mind from his unpleasant morning absolutely fade away as he goes from booth to booth sampling cuisine and chatting with diasporic cultures the world over. Time flies as he goes into journalist mode and basically interviews first gen Chinese immigrants about their time in the city. He finds himself beyond immersed in the conversation, continuing to learn from the couple as the tables around them begin to pack up for the day. 

He offers to help the older couple pack up and they happily take the aid, striking him bashful as they talk of what a sweet young man he is. “Wa! 哇强 (strong) Too!” The wife chuckles as she jokingly feels his less than impressive arms. He was having a better time at this little fair than he ever could’ve imagined, enough so that he thinks about going to stick it to Huaward then and there. Huaward? Whatever. His mind slightly off put by whatever that was, in an uncharacteristic act of transparency, Sam lets it slip that he works for NY:Red. The expressions on the kind couple’s faces immediately sour and Sam is quite shocked that they even know what the paper is.

There is a glint in the husband’s eyes as he starts to motion Sam away from any further aid, “谢谢 (Thank you) for your help, Sam. There have been a few, hm, bad men wandering around from that paper and I uh-” He looks around his table and grabs some miijiu they hadn’t put away yet. His wife nods, her face somewhere between rueful and hopeful as she watches her husband offer Sam the glass. “Again, 谢谢, er thank you for your help young man, enjoy this for the road 好的? (Yeah?)” The two turn to each other and begin talking to each other in mandarin alone and Sam takes the hint.

Kicking himself that he fumbled the capstone on such a pleasant afternoon, though finding solace in the rice wine he’s walking away with. He is blissfully unaware as the couple watch him drink and head down the street debating if everyone from that paper really is an asshole. Grimacing as they think about the vitriol spewed at them by NY:Red readers they decide they had no other recourse. Pleasant as he seemed Sam was consciously working on the side of hate and that could not be simply overlooked.

Sam quite enjoyed the rice wine the couple left him with, it immediately smooths over any lasting regret or concern about his interaction with the couple. They don’t know anything about him! He’s nothing like his other coworkers. It feels as if he’s had far more to drink than the small container they left him with should allow, but every time he looks down there always seems to be more mijiu to entice him. It would be impolite not to finish their gift he thinks; his confident stride quickly shifting to a stumble as he wanders home. 

His phone goes off as he gets an email from his boss, Mr. Huang?  Can’t be right. He squints at the email, deciding he must really have overdone it on the mijiu and stuffing his phone back in his pocket. Beyond the obvious difficulties in ambulation being drunk, Sam is unable to notice as his proportions slowly begin to shift. His ever-so lanky body begins to feel dull and heavy as the warmth of the wine fills his chest to capacity and then some as he leans against his apartment door, wiping his feet on an unfamiliar doormat. 

He kicks his shoes off by the door on some new instinct and immediately goes to collapse on the couch. His small sofa creaking as he puts more than his usual dead weight on it. His legs that usually hang off the end lengthen even further as his thighs grow meatier. Pecs press into the cushions as he snores. He is swiftly ushered into an unfamiliar dreamscape, the jubilee of the fair and the bewildering amount of wine he drank produce a vivid carnival of culture in his subconscious.

He sees the old couple at their stand and begins to speak with them in their mother tongue, seeing the delight as a load is taken off their shoulders. His dreamself seamlessly conversing with a fluency unearned. Sam stirs in the waking world as his mind existentially changes to match his morphing body. His blond hair grows thin and longer as its tint stains darker. Twitching in REM the green eyes that he prides himself on speckle with brown before they are entirely overtaken, becoming a rich cacao like the thick eyebrows framing them.

The discomfort of a new language forcing itself into this memory begins to wane as he prides himself on how fluent he is in both Chinese and English. His hand goes to scratch his pecs and he smirks in his sleep as they pulse larger, knowing pride is not the only thing surging within him. At the edges of his mind he feels the memory of learning a language, words written on a blackboard in chalk, English and Chinese both. For the life of him he cannot recall which of the two he’s learning second. An alarm set on his phone blares and he jolts awake to get ready for work.

Throwing on a shirt, Sam freezes as he sees his reflection. Hundreds of little questions seize his mind, those aren’t his eyes are they? Did he dye his hair last night? Are those abs? God his arms look good don’t they!? As they race through his mind and grow rampant they fixate on how attractive he suddenly feels. Rubbing his pecs and feeling them bounce he cries out to himself, “该死！Uhhh, Damn I look good!” He poses in the mirror and takes in every new angle of his powerful body. Taking note as his body hair seems thinner, and decidedly darker wherever it remains. He looks close at his pit seeing his once dense bush of curly hair thin out and straighten, before the memory of even having dense body hair is washed from his mind.

His phone goes off again and his work is immediately brought to the forefront of his mind. “Fuck I didn’t read Huang’s message!” He finds email after email from his boss, only the first few mention the wretched assignment they last talked about. Sam’s eyes widen as he continues to skim through the emails as the topic lines quickly show some drastic re-prioritization from his boss. Only then does he realize that he’s been reading his boss’ name as Huang. His boss is white. Rather his boss’ whole identity is based around being white! Huang isn’t, right? Incredibly he clicks the last email, subject line Vacation, and is immediately greeted with a mouth watering picture of a powerful man. Everything comes to a stop as he can’t help but gawk at this man’s body.

Ni Hao Sanuel- take the day off shi de? Still only half dressed Sam balks at just how bizarre this is, rereading the name Sanuel he is thrown for a loop as his mind reconfigures this. Tearing his eyes from the man’s torso he finally looks at the cocky face and sees a thread he recognizes,  “天啊! (Holy Shit!) That’s Mr. Huang!” He shuts his mouth before he drools like a dog at his boss’ arms. God, this is unlike him though right? He tries to dig through his memories of the editor in chief as the caustic racist he was yesterday, but with each uncovered the image of Huang changes as this dreamboat playboy overrides more of what was.

Sanuel readies to just stay in for this day of assigned vacation before he gets another notification, this time from his friend, Nobu? An image of Nick flashes through his mind, a handprint burns on his arm, and the taste of Vietnamese coffee dances on his lips. “Meet me on the boardwalk うん？” Sanuel rolls his eyes at his friend tacking on Japanese like that, willing his mind not to think about how his friend’s contact ID now says Nobu. Must be one of those, uh, his own thoughts trail off as he successfully abandons concern to head to meet his friend.

Nearing the meeting spot he looks for his usually cleancut friend, the only body present however is a massive Japanese man awkwardly flexing at himself in a reflective surface. Sanuel shyly speaks up, “Ni Ha-, uh Hey? Have you seen a guy named Nick around here?” The apparent bodybuilder beams and goes to engulf Sanuel in a hug shouting, “Oi! Shan! took ya long enough!” His eye twitches hearing the name, as this man effortlessly lifts him off his feet in a hug far too intimate for colleagues, and certainly from whoever this stranger is!

Shan pushes against the massive man, his body heat broiling him on this already warm day. He strains his eyes looking at the man grabbing him and suddenly it hits him, “Nobu?” The man promptly lets him go and pats him on the back with a laugh he would’ve never expected to come from his sheepish friend in the fashion department. “Wanna go have some ice cream or something Shan?” He feels the need to push back against his friend calling him Shan but as he hears it a second time he can’t recognize the names as anything but his own.

Shan pauses as he sees Nobu stop to chat with some Japanese tourists and something about the picture doesn’t sit right. God it’s that talk with Huang getting him all worked up again that,uh, racist? He clutches his head as contradictions between his past and present collide in his head and he slams his eyes shut as he cannot determine what is true about his current reality. Shan falls to the ground with a deep thud, slightly hyperventilating, his body grows larger as he takes deep breaths from the stress.

Hearing him collapse Nobu runs over to help him up, this time with more effort as his friend’s comatose body continues to put on muscle and grow heavier. Still, having the impressive figure he does, Nobu rather easily gets him on a bench and sits next to him, “クソ野郎？(Fuck dude?) You alright?” Shan slowly nods as his friend throws an arm around him. Looking down at his own arms as they pulse with muscle, he feels his eyes strain as the structure of his face begins to change.

Shan's jawline sharpens and his skin smooths. Stubble that has been a cornerstone of hiding his facial blemishes vacates as his hair stains black and flops longer. He feels clarity grace his mind as he stares at large hands on the ends of pale, hairless, muscular arms and he wonders if he is even himself.

He voices these concerns to Nobu who just laughs them off. “Hah! Of course dude, same Shan I’ve always known!” “那- that’s not my name Nobu.” His friend grins shyly in concern for his friend's mind. “It can't be my name. I’m-” grimacing before he continues as it takes everything in his power to speak against the realities in front of him. Memories of a world quite far away, moving to New York long ago, the youngest in a family of Chinese immigrants, “I’m white aren’t I Nobu?” 

Nobu can’t help but laugh again at the beyond bizarre statement. He jokes about Shan hitting his head when he fell. “You’re the most 2nd Gen Chinese わるがき(brat) I know bro! Imma go get us some ice cream while you chill out.” Shan stares at his friend as he abandons him, feeling his eyes tighten as they shift into the monolid eyes that his memories swear he’s always had.

Shan retreats into his mind racing against his changing memories to find a pillar of truth to grasp on. He sees himself at the gym with Nobu, his black mop of hair flicking sweat into the air as he poses with his bro. He sees just yesterday at the Asian fair, helping an elderly couple pack up their table, twitching as he would’ve sworn that went differently. He remembers sitting at the office getting no work done as he plays on his phone, 是的！that’s it! His job. There’s something there, if only he can remember what the problem was there.

He sees Nobu begin walking back with sweet treats, Nobu works at the paper too. Oh 呃/Duh! He smirks as he goes for his wallet to grab a business card. His eyes see the obnoxious red logo he knows before they read text that will send him irrevocably forward, Shun Jiang - Ni Hao!NYC. His body fills with warmth like a machine overworking as his mind races with information about his new reality. Sweat drips from his hair as he can no longer even struggle to recall his claimed existence as a bystander at the vile paper they produced. His brown eyes steep to a dark black as they glaze over.

“Shan-baka! Here’s a popsicle!” Nobu shouts as he returns to his overheated friend who immediately bursts from his stupor. “混蛋!(Asshole!) It’s Shun- thought we were close!” Nobe smirks as he starts to eat his own ice cream. Unable to recall anything too in depth he feels a pause as he wonders what his Japanese friend is doing working for a Chinese newspaper, before he answers it himself. Clearly his subconscious is more at place in whatever new reality he faces. Their paper is for all NYC’s Asian immigrants. Nobu works writing, or more often modeling, for Konnichiwa!NYC! Huang really was a genius for the idea.

Shun smiles, thinking fondly of his boss as he enjoys the short break from the summer heat that Nobu brought him. Back at the headquarters of their paper everything shifts from the rag it was and into a paper connecting the disparate Asian immigrants of the city, printed in any language they can find translators for, Ni Hao, Konnichiwa, Annyeonghaseyo, Namaste!NYC. Each day striving for a better, more inclusive New York City. Shun beams with his new face, no longer burdened with the just concern of his peddling vitriol, instead possessed with a desire to spread his culture far and wide.

———————————————————————————

As I was writing I remembered a similar series by the now gone Dumb-and-Jocked!

If interested do check out Horizon Zero: One, Two, and Three for quite a different take on a journalism themed Racial Change!

[wattsyart]

Clay Hardheart! Paladin, Private Detective, sweetheart. Designed this big galoot a few years ago, I just think he's neat.

[silverpsychedelic]

Give me all the Prom lore you have 👁

Oh man, now you've done it.

Cracks my knuckles cause this is gonna be long one, I'll try to condense down a bunch of storytelling though. Prometheus or 'Prom' is a Nightmaren who is one of Wizeman's most wanted and has eluded capture for a very, very long time. Here's the big galoot's current (though needs updating) ref sheet:

I'll put the rest under a cut because good lord was it hard to condense all this worldbuilding down into one post

Prometheus -not his original name- lives as a fugitive Nightmaren hiding out in the Waking World, constantly avoiding Wizeman's attempts to drag him back to Nightmare -much to the god's absolute fury. To Wizeman, Prometheus is his invaluable property, being a Nightmaren that was manufactured under his command. The perfect fusion of a Nightmaren that was originally human and a Night Terror (big, nasty abstract horror like creatures that have been around since the very first dreaming).

Prometheus was originally a scientist under Wizeman's command, but after seeing all the fucky things that went on as a result of the God's infallible narcissism, he fled the Night Dimension and went into hiding in the human world. As an extra big fucka you to Wizeman, he also stole a bunch of Nightmare tech from the labs and is using it to keep himself safe and dance circles around any attempts Wizeman makes to capture him.

AS FOR HIS PERSONALITY, well, you'll either love him or hate him, and he loves to see which one it'll be. He is cocky and egotistical, loud and abrasive. He's the party and the riot. He'll break hearts and faces. He's spent years feeling untouchable and he revels in the fact. He is a god in this world and he walks among mortals. Needles to say, the power has gone to his head a little.

Only to swiftly turn it upside down. Prometheus almost immediately becomes one of Balan's most challenging visitors and takes it upon himself to fight the Maestro at every single turn. He's stubborn and bullheaded and lives to push everyone's buttons, especially Balan's. Prometheus has a big issue with authority and decides he doesnt like the way Balan walks around like he's the king of everything (in his mind, anyway). It exhausts Balan. It exhausts the whole damn Theatre, and a good chunk of people decide he is truly a lost cause. You can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped.

When he's not all party central though, and you catch him during some downtime, he's a very lively energy to be around. He'll hype you up and pull you into activities, and he loves being around people. He'll never admit it's because he is lonely.

✨AND YES, THERE'S A TIMELINE WHERE HE ENTERS THE WONDERWORLD THEATRE ✨

But, through finding a lot of new methods of approach, Balan does eventually make some breakthroughs which gets the ball of his heart therapy rolling (albeit slowly). Prometheus had a lot of long, arduous struggles during his time in the theatre, his heart trials are strange and unique and it takes them all a lot of figuring out news ways on how to finish them. But eventually, the big guy settles into it and ends up calling the Theatre home. He makes himself useful by becoming part of the stage crew, being able to move and lift huge set props and pieces of equipment around that could normally take 5+ people.

Other fun points because this is already getting long:

- His special interest is the guitar, he learned to play while hiding out in the human world and often picks it up. He also spent a lot of time learning a bunch of human languages, it works his brain in a very good way.

- He kisses this guy a lot:

- His Negati boss is unlike anything Balan or Lance have ever seen before, and was one of the only times they actively had to pull a heart out of the arena before they could overcome it.

- Even though he and Balan are on better terms, he will still actively annoy the Maestro every chance he gets because he finds it extremely funny to ruffle Balan's perfectly preened feathers

- He spent a long time seeing the theatre doors appear to him on the outside, but he never trusted them and actively avoided them (assuming anything magical and out of place was some sort of trap laid by Wizeman). He will not speak about what it was that finally pushed him to seek refuge in the theatre.

- Thanks to @emirrart his voice claim is Markiplier

[rocksandrobots]

PotP Ch 52 - Christmas With The Krampus: Part 1

Madame Canardist blew out the last of the candles and placed the antique decorations into a cardboard box. The silvery glint of the  ornament caught the eye of the chimpanzee next to her and he 'oohed' with interest.

"Here Vigor, be a dear and put this in the back with the others." She sweetly called out to her pet.

The monkey grabbed the box and dutifully waddled his way to the storage room in the back of the shop as Cardanist finished cleaning up from the celebrations of a long forgotten holiday. Even in their own world, the festival of stars was a dying tradition, as there was no longer a people to carry on the old ways.

Canardist still did. She still remembered all that her parents had taught her, the same as their parents had taught them. How knowledge of the heavens and the secrets in its patterns could protect the world, or, in her case, worlds.

She frowned as she picked up a tattered scroll. However, unlike stars, knowledge was not forever. It had to be preserved and passed down in order to continue.

Canardist never did find an apprentice to teach.  She had vaguely hoped one of the younglings of this universe would take interest... but no one took magic seriously here.

And then there was the matter of Vigor.... there would be no guardian to care for him once she was gone. She was the last who knew his secret.

Not for the first time she contemplated packing up and starting anew somewhere else... or even returning to their home plane... but there was still the prophecy to fulfill. Things had been set into motion and they needed to stay to play their part.

As she paused in her clean up to read the scroll again, Vigor was unsteadily climbing a footstool, box still in hand. He stood on tip toe on one foot as he precariously balanced himself in order to push the box on to an empty space on a higher shelf.

His other foot swayed with the exertion and accidentally tipped over what looked like a snow globe.

Canardist heard the glass shatter. She flung the scroll down and ran to the back, even as Vigor's terrified screams grew louder.

"Vigor!" She yelled, but her voice was drowned out by an unnatural wind that swirled through the air of her little store; knocking over antiques, books, and ingredients for spells.

Then the wind died as suddenly as it had started.

Canardist screamed as something monstrous, tall, and hairy, wrapped a clawed hand around Vigor.

Fright was replaced by anger.

"Let go of him you big galoot!" and hurled a book at the creature. Only to be pushed away by a muscular arm. The breath was knocked out of her as she went flying into the bookshelves behind her.

She heard Vigor howling with fright as lumbering footsteps shook the floor.

She looked up just in time to see the door of her shop being ripped off his hinges.

"Vigor!" she cried out again as her beloved pet was stolen away by the mysterious monster.

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

"Who wants peppermint hot chocolate?"

The various party goers swarmed around Aunt Cass as she handed out the festive refreshments.

She was just handing the last mugs to Carl and Globby when a knock came at the back door.

She excused herself and ran back to the kitchen as she overheard Noodle Burger Boy telling the rest of the kids about  their recent holiday vacation.

"Feliz navidad!" Cruz yelled as soon as she opened the door.

He was wearing a ridiculous sweater with a reindeer knitted on it and holding a piece of mistletoe over his head.

Poor Megan gave an embarrassed grin beside him. "Hi Miss Cass." She greeted before running past her and ducking into the dinning room with her gift.

Cassidy purposefully ignored the mistletoe and moved to grab the tupperware container under Cruz's arm instead.

"Oh you brought the popcorn to string! Thank you!"

Cruz couldn't help but look a little put out as she started to hurry from the kitchen.

"Ah-ahem." He coughed, and held the mistletoe up higher. "That's not all I brought."

Cass feigned ignorance. "Oh the decoration... yes.... ummm... just put it up anywhere."

Cruz sighed with frustration as she left, and then hung the mistletoe over the door mantle.

He'll have to try again later... when she was less busy.

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

*clink*, *clink,* *clink.*

Honey Lemon rapped the side of the coffee cup with a spoon to gain everyone's attention. She stood behind the cash counter as Baymax turned down the holiday music that had been playing. The various conversations stalled around the room as all turned to look at her.

"It's so great to see that everyone could make it tonight, and now that we're all here, it's time for the gift exchange! The rules are simple. We're going to pull names out of a hat. When your name is called you'll come up and pick out your present, and once you open it you gotta guess who gave it to you."

"If you guess right, you'll get a sticker. If you guess wrong, then the rest of the party gets to guess and have a chance to win the sticker themselves. The person with the most stickers at the end of the night gets a prize!"

"Do we get to guess ourselves?" Megan cheekily called out from the back.

"No, but you can try to fool the other people guessing." Honey Lemon answered, then she turned to a man dressed in a tux standing over in the corner. "Heathcliff, will you do the honors?"

"Yes, Miss Lemon." He gave a little nod of his head and pulled a slip of paper out of a top hat. "Mr. Wasabi"

Wasabi got up and Honey Lemon handed him a broad rectangular package with his name on the tag.

He carefully began to untape the snowman themed wrapping paper.

"Oh come on, just rip it off!" Juniper yelled at him.

"And tear the paper!?" He asked, aghast. "Please, we aren't animals here people."

And with that he finished pulling off the last bit of tape. He gasped in delight at what he found.

"OOOHHH! Personalized Labels!!!" He hugged the folder full of stickers to him. "With my name on them and everything.... Ooo, ooo, and look! They're even categorized by function! Storage, food, folder tabs!"

"So who do you think is your secret santa?" Tadashi asked.

"Hmmmm..... Honey Lemon? You're the sticker fanatic around here. Was it you?"

She shook her head. "Sorry, I got someone else."

"Sam!?... You know me better than anyone."

"Hey, you can't guess twice!" Karmi complained.

"Sorry again, Wasabi, but Karmi's right. Who else thinks they know who Wasabi's secret santa is!?"

Trina timidly raised her hand. "It was NB. That's the same wrapping paper Globby bought for our gifts."

"That's right!" Noodle Burger Boy shouted as he jumped from his chair. "I'm the bestest gift giver ever!"

He opened his mouth and more printed stickers streamed out like ticker tape. He then handed this to Wasabi.

"Merry Christmas Wasabi, and a Happy New Year!"

Wasabi took the hamburger themed stickers in surprise. "I never would have guessed.... but, come to think of it, the french fries shaped ones probably have tipped me off. Thank you NB."

As Wasabi took his seat again, Heathcliff called out the next name. "A Mr. Stu..."

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

Cruz saw this as his chance. As the kids played their game, he brushed down his sweater, made sure there were no crumbs on his mustache, and walked over to Cass who was watching the game with interest.

"Oh, how cute. Juniper and Stu got each other in the Secret Santa exchange." She said as he neared.  

Cruz turned to see the former criminal, face practically hidden in the giant scarf and hat he'd just received, get down on one knee to present his present to his sweetheart. Juniper screamed with delight when she saw the ring.

As everyone clapped to congratulate the happy couple Cruz couldn't help raising an eyebrow. "A little young aren't they?" 

"Oh, plenty of people get married in college." Cass dismissed. "You and Maria did." 

"Yeah and look how well that turned out." Cruz couldn't help but mutter. Cass put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but still gave him a long, suffering look. 

"Now that was long after college… besides you gotta let them figure it out. Live their own lives. And who knows, it might actually work out for them?" 

She shrugged and then grabbed a tub full of dirty cups. As she made her way back to the kitchen as the next name was called out. 

"Mr. Fred." 

Cruz didn't pay any attention as the Fredericksons' boy walked up to get his present. He was too busy following Cass.

"So what about you?" He asked as he entered the back room. 

"What about me?" She asked, confused. 

"When are you going to settle down?" 

Cass could barely contain her laughter. "Me, marry?" She shook her head in answer. 

"What's so inconceivable about that?" Cruz chuckled. 

"For starters, I'm not interested in marrying anyone, and secondly, who needs it? Oh, no offense to anyone who would want to… It's just… You don't have to go through all the trouble just to be with someone." 

Cruz nodded his head in consideration. "I can see where you're coming from… but you've nothing against dating, then." 

She shrugged again as she finished placing the last coffee cup in the dishwasher. "Dating's fine." 

"Would you wanna go on a date with me?" 

Aunt Cass froze in mid-action as she rubbed her hands with a dish towel.  

The still running faucet was the only sound in the kitchen as the awkward silence filled the room.

Chief Cruz gave an awkward cough to gently nudge the conversation along.

"Ummm..." She finally hummed.

"'Ummm' isn't really in answer." Cruz nervously laughed.

"Weeeellll..." Cass squeaked instead, and Cruz frowned. That was an even less encouraging response.

"It's just..." She stumbled a third time. "I... I'm kind of seeing someone else right now."

"Oh." Cruz deflated, but quickly recovered. "Well serves me right for waiting too long. Who's the lucky guy?" 

He could see Cass squirm even more as she thought of an answer. 

"Well, umm, you two do know each other… and he's in his 40s… he's tall a-and he umm… oh.." 

"Just spit it out Cassidy." 

"It's Alister." She quickly mumbled and ran from the kitchen.

Cruz stood stunned for a moment as he tried to figure out who 'Alister' was… then it donned on him. 

"Keri!?"  

He stormed after Aunt Cass as she tried to distract by handing out more appetizers. 

"Anyone for some pigs in a blanket?" 

"Cass…" 

"Thumbprint cookies?" 

No one took up her offer, as everyone paused in their game. 

"Cassidy."

"I'll go make some more coco then." 

She dodged her best friend and ran back to the kitchen with the food. Cruz followed. 

"You're dating Keri!?' 

"Well, he's really been putting in an effort lately and…"

"And we've talked about this Cass. He's not any good for you." 

"Oh and who are you to tell me who's right for me or not!?" Anger replacing her guilt. 

"You dumped him for a reason, remember?" 

"Yes, I do remember, and so does he, and he's been putting in the effort to change." 

Cruz rolled his eyes. "Guys like that don't change Cass. You know that." 

"Why do you always expect the worst of people?" She sighed. 

"Because I don't want my best friend to be taken advantage of!" 

Aunt Cass could only laugh at that. 

"Diego, we're not in high school any more. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself." 

"I know you can, but I don't trust him." 

"Then why not be an actual friend and trust me ." 

Cruz frowned. "What's that supposed to mean? Of course I trust you." 

Cass only folded her arms and gave him a purposeful look. 

"Okay… so I'm a little protective sometimes, b-but that's only because I care-" 

The expression didn't change on her face. 

Cruz sighed in defeat. "Fine. I'll respect your decision to date Keri." 

"Thank you." 

"And when it all falls apart again, you still got me as a shoulder to cry on and for a good 'I told you so'." 

Cass rolled her eyes at the joke, but could dismiss the smile off her face. 

"I wouldn't expect anything less." She chuckled as she gave him a hug.

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

The Gift Exchange had ended and the party guests were now milling around, eating the rest of the food, and conversing. A few were dancing in the corner as Minimax played DJ, blaring out those catchy Christmas tunes that Varian had heard on a loop for a month now wherever he went.

Christmastide was indeed an important festival season in Corona as well, but Americans really upped the ante when it came to the holiday. Instead of just being twelve days of feasting, the US started celebrations an entire month before the first actual holy day came to pass. 

It was exciting and exhausting all at once. So many new traditions, so many lights, so many new foods to try, and not a single boring church service in sight! But after you heard "Jingle Bells" for the thousandth time, well, the 'Christmas Spirit' started to lose its appeal somewhat. 

"So when's your flight?" He overheard Hiro ask Wasabi. 

"Five in the morning," Wasabi groaned. 

 "We should be at Mom's in time for Christmas Dinner." Sam added. 

"You know I could always just open a portal to Hawaii for you." Varian offered, adding himself to the conversation. 

Wasabi turned the offer down. "No thanks. I would prefer not to give my future in-laws a heart attack upon first meeting them." 

Tadashi raised an eyebrow, "In-laws?" 

Wasabi froze. 

"In-laws?" Sam echoed, a teasing smile on his lips. 

"Ummm… I just… I just meant… hypothetically… you know… in case… this works out… long term, I mean…. Hey, weren't we going to decorate the tree?" 

Wasabi ducked out the group and ran over to the other side of the room where Karmi, Fred, and Baymax were already hanging homemade paper decorations onto a plastic tree. 

Sam and Tadashi shared a laugh and went over to join them. 

Varian was about to follow when he heard some call his name. 

"Hey V, can ya help me with this?" 

It was Carol. She was covered in stickers and juggling several gift baskets that she had won in the games. 

Hiro beat him to it. 

"I got it." He took one of the baskets. "Boy you racked up?" 

"I know, right!? This is going to feed me all through the next week… I just need to make sure none of the other girls find my stash. Now where were those leftovers?" 

"You're not going home for the holiday?" Varian asked as he handed her the goody bag that Aunt Cass had made earlier. 

Carol shook her head. "No, it's too far and tickets are too expensive… and I also don't want you giving Grandma a heart attack with those mad scientist portals if yours." 

Varian rolled his eyes. "Why does everyone think people will get heart attacks from my portals?" 

"Well, we do need to work out the kinks some." Hiro admitted. "You want some help carrying all this out? 

"Oh would you? That's awfully sweet. Fred is giving me a lift back home, and I think Heathcliff parked the car on the corner." 

"No problem…." He said as he readjusted the baskets and followed her out the door. 

"So umm… What exactly did Karmi say to you when you helped her pick out my gift?" Varian overheard his brother whisper as he and Carol left. 

Carol had apparently helped a lot of people pick out their gifts for the Secret Santa. That was how she won the guessing game portion of the gift exchange. 

Karmi had gotten Hiro, and Varian could tell that his little brother was desperate to know if the handmade keychain from his crush meant anything deeper.

That reminded Varian… he hadn't seen his own crush in awhile… 

He walked over to where everyone was dancing. Stu and Juniper were lost in each other's eyes, Heathcliff was, surprisingly, twirling Barb around, Gogo had graciously agreed to a dance with Mole… provided that he stuck to the six foot rule, and Carl and Globby were slow-waltzing in the corner… Minimax wasn't even playing a slow song at the moment. 

Varian scanned the small scene before him but he didn't see the pretty redhead. In fact he didn't see her anywhere. 

That's when he spotted Megan and Trina off to the side. They were giggling over something. 

"Hey… have you seen Honey Lemon?" 

Both girls stalled, and Varian got the distinct feeling that he had just interrupted something. 

"Umm… I think she went into the kitchen?" Megan guessed. 

"She said something about how her brother was going to be here soon." Trina added. "I think she went out to wait for him."

"Thanks… oh and thanks for the gift by the way." 

"I'm glad you like it." Trina replied. "You are the hardest person to shop for, you know." 

"Well you did an excellent job. Who else would think of a recipe journal?" 

Megan disagreed. "I think Minimax has the hardest pick… what on earth do you get for Mole? He already has everything?" 

Trina shrugged. "A signed autograph from Boss Awesome apparently." 

"What was it that you got again?" Varian asked. 

Trina's face lit up and she excitedly showed him the guitar pick on a string around her neck. "It's a limited edition Mind Smith Turbo collector item!" She turned towards Megan. "I don't know how you ever found this."

"Ah, it was easy. I just had to go scrounging around AuctionBay. What I can't believe is that Carol found my gift at a thrift store for only five bucks. It's a genuine Noir jacket. Those are like five hundred dollars off the rack! We have got to go bargain hunting as a band more often." 

Varian backed away slowly. "Yeeeeaaaah when I hear the words, "bargain hunting", I know it's time for me to dip out." 

"Just because you don't have any taste!" Megan joked. 

"Let us save you from your poor sense of fashion!" Trina called after him. 

"I'm good!" He yelled over his shoulder as he ran away.

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

Varian found Honey Lemon in the kitchen leaning against the door frame. She was looking at the bracelet he had given to her, examining its details while a smile played on her lips.

"Do you like it?" He asked.

She looked up in surprise, having not noticed his presence before, but quickly recovered.

"Oh I adore it. Where did you get it?"

"I made it." He beamed.

"Really!? It's beautiful...and I love that it's rose gold! Oh and all the little flowers! You know, you have a real talent... this is art."  

"Ahh, I don't about that." Varian sheepishly shrugged off the complement, but then more seriously, he said. "But when I got your name for the gift exchange, I knew I had to give you something special."

 He reached out and grabbed her hand. Honey Lemon blushed, but didn't pull away. She did however try to change the subject.

"What does the inscription say?" She asked, pointing to the engraving written in the band of gold.

"Alles Liebe."

"Alles Liebe." She echoed, not quite getting the pronunciation as well as he did. "Is that German or Russian?"

"German. It's a common saying in Corona, something you might write on a gift tag or at the end of a letter... it's short for 'to you, with lots of love' or 'with all my love'.  

Honey Lemon felt herself blushing even more. As was pointed out, it wasn't uncommon to put well wishes on a present, but something about the way Varian said it, the way it was so delicately and thoughtfully etched into the glinting metal, and the fact that it was told in a language that no one else they knew spoke, made it seem more romantic... like a secret that was only shared between them.  

Varian took her other hand in his, and her pulse quickened. She racked her brain looking for another excuse to change the conversation, but found none. 

Why did she want to anyways? Not when he was staring at her intently with those piercing blue eyes of his, or when he was leaning closer to... to what exactly?

Honey Lemon never got her answer, for no sooner did she close her eyes and tilted her head towards him, lips parted, heart pounding her ears as she desperately hoped he understood the clear hint she was giving him, then did Karmi hurried into the room.

"I'll get it! it's near th-... oh!"

Both teens immediately jumped away from each other upon the intrusion.

Karmi seemed embarrassed, as Honey Lemon plastered on a fake smile and Varian avoided eye contact.

"Sorry... I just came in here to get the popcorn." She awkwardly said as she picked up a tupperware container on the counter. "Didn't mean to interrupt. Just go back to doing what you were doing, and I'm going to get out here."

"Oh we weren't up to anything... I'm just waiting for my brother to pick me up."

Karmi clearly didn't believe Honey Lemon's protest, as she gave them both a skeptic look. Then in reply, all she did was point upwards.

Honey Lemon and Varian looked up in response and saw the small bouquet of bright green leaves.

"Oh..." was all Honey Lemon said, and Karmi gave them both a smirk as she left the room.

Honey Lemon and Varian both made a point not to look at each other even after the other girl had gone.

"S-Sooo... you have mistletoe here too, huh?" Varian finally asked, trying to brush aside the awkwardness.

"Hmm, hmm." Honey Lemon hummed in response, still choosing to play with the tip of her hair then to look at him.

"Does it work the same way in Fansokyo as it does in Corona?"

"I... I think so... Do you... do you ... you know..."

"Kiss?  ... Yeah."

"Then yeah... it- it's the same here." She placed her hands behind her back and rocked back and forth on her heels, still trying to find some other place to look, any place other than his hypnotizing eyes.

He also looked around desperately trying to find anything else to talk about... seconds slipped past and he began to tap his foot impatiently.

They were doing it again... avoiding their feelings…

Screw it... Just ask her!

He shut his eyes tight. "Do... do you wan---"

*HONK*

A loud car horn interrupted him.

Both teens poked their head out of the door and saw an old, beat up pick-up truck parked in the street out front.

A young man, close to their own age, was sitting in the driver seat. He honked the horn again upon seeing them.

"Oh it's Carlos!" Honey Lemon explained, as she ran back inside to grab her purse. "Mama's expecting us for Mass tonight, so we need to get on the road."

Varian however could only look on helplessly as he saw his chance slipping away from him yet again.

"Oh... well.. I hope you have a  nice time then... Drive safe," was all he could muster.

Suddenly, Honey Lemon was by his side, a tender hand on his arm.

"I really do love my gift."

"I'm glad. Merry Christmas." He smiled back, and then, to his surprise, she kissed him! Right on the cheek!

It was just a quick peck. Nothing you could call romantic, but it left him in awe nonetheless, as he dumbly watched her run over to the parked car.

"Bye. Merry Christmas!" She yelled back. She turned to see him standing in the doorway with a stunned smile on his lips.

Her heart pounded in her ears even louder. She couldn't believe what she had just done.

It was the mistletoe. She told herself. It's tradition. It didn't mean anything.

She hopped into the seat on the passenger side and her brother gave her the most infuriatingly smug look. 

"¿Ese es el chico que te gustaba?" He asked.

"Cállate" was all she said to him, then she poked her head out the window again as her brother cranked the car, laughing to himself while doing so. She ignored him.

"I'll see you next week!" She waved at Varian as the truck pulled away.

Varian's dumbstruck smile only grew wider as he waved after the receding vehicle. Soon that smile turned into a giggle, which turned into a laugh, which finally ended in a whopping holler of exuberant elation as he punched the air and spun around yelling "yes" frantically in the empty alley.

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

Hiro stretched and yawned as he turned down the sheets on his bed.

"So what time are you waking us up tomorrow?" he heard his brother say. He looked over to find Tadashi already snuggling under the covers of his own bed.

"Six, four… two in the morning? Just remember you gotta give Santa time to actually deliver the presents first." he chuckled at his own joke.

Hrio rolled his eyes. "I'm not eight. I'll probably sleep in tomorrow. So don't you wake me up early for Krei's burnt waffles... or whatever he's making in the morning."

"Knowing him, he'll probably bring over a whole catering service rather than cook."

"On Christmas?"

Tadashi shrugged. "Not everyone closes on Christmas. Maybe we'll have Indian curry for breakfast, who knows?"

Hiro shook his head. "I can't believe Aunt Cass invited him to celebrate with us."

Tadashi yawned. "Face it Hiro... the heart wants what the heart wants."

"Yeah, and they also say that the heart is stupid and love is blind."  But he never got a reply back as Tadashi was already asleep.

He shook his head and went over to Baymax's battery case to see if it was hooked into the computer properly. The faithful robot was already powered down and his memory banks for the week were steadily up loading to the storage base. 

That was when Hiro heard the low growl behind him.

He froze and out of the corner of his eye he saw something dark and menacing looming in the window.

Were those red eyes he saw?

He quickly spun around to catch whatever it was that was trying to climb into his room, only to see a flurry of claws and a swishing tail hauling it itself up to the roof.

He ran to the window sill, hopped up on his bed, and pushed the window open.

Cold air hit him in the face but he ignored it as he leaned out as far as he dared in order to look up at where the creature had gone. All he saw however was the clear sky and the bright full moon.

He looked back to his brother but Tadashi was already soundly snoring. He clearly hadn't heard anything.

He heard another clatter, this time coming from below. He peered down into the alley, but it was only Mochi rummaging in the trash.

He saw a light stream out into the dark as someone opened the back kitchen door and he heard his aunt call the cat back inside.  

Hiro shook his head for being so silly and closed the window.

Of course there wasn't any monstrous beast lurking in alleyways. All his time superheroing had made him jumpy.

Then again....

Hiro spared one glance back at the window.

Still nothing.

Shoving the gnawing pit in his stomach down, Hiro finally crawled into bed.

He was asleep in minutes and therefore he never noticed the glowing red eyes that continued to watch him through the window.

[archivallyfound09]

Something In-Between, pt. 6

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader (f), Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader (f) (no y/n)

Summary: Something old, something new- reader's stuck between two men who look damn good in Navy blue(s).

Warnings: Swearing (as per usual), drinking, wowzas sexual themes going on here (basically pwp-read at own risk!), joking about suicide (not really). Everything I write is Mature- read at your own risk.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

You heard whispering from the other room and you yawned a bit and stretched under the covers, a definite fogginess from all the drinks the previous night clouding any clear bit of thought. You heard the door creak open and you blinked, not able to tell who was standing in the doorframe.

"Mornin' darlin'," came the drawl and you couldn't help the smile on your face. Jake had decided to stay and, from the sounds of it, he was in much better condition than you currently were.

"Hey Jake," you barely hummed out, a stupid smile plastered on your face despite the nagging headache that was gripping your temples. "Glad you seem to have survived the night..." You were met with a chuckle and as you started to sit up in bed and reach for your glasses, you heard Bradley's laugh as well.

"Bradshaw-" you started with a warning tone but were cut off almost immediately.

"No worries, hun, we got it all figured out. Didn't we, Bagman," you heard the blond pilot groan at the unappreciated nickname and you giggled a bit nervously. Not being able to fully see the interaction, you weren't sure if they were teasing you or if they had really come to an agreement.

Your thought process was stopped short when you felt someone land on the bed next to you. You recognized Jake's cologne as his arms wrestled you into a hug and he began tickling your sides. You started gasping for air between laughs and swatting away his incessant fingertips. Finally, you decided to call in back-up.

"Bradshaw, I swear to god, I will give you anything if you can get this big galoot off of me!" You heard the offended noise Jake made as he started to try and pin you down on the bed to get a better angle to your sides. Bradley chuckled and leaned on the doorframe.

"Anything I want, baby?" He snickered suggestively, but you missed the intonation over your own screeches and heaving breath.

"YES, BRADSHAW. NOW HELP ME!"

In seconds, Bradley had cleared the room and was pulling Jake off of you, knocking him off the other side of the bed with a loud "oof" which was followed by "goddammit Rooster!" You laughed and hugged your savior and noticed that his arms were wrapped tightly around you as he caged you to the bed. You smiled up, his face finally coming into your clear vision, chest still heaving from the tickling assault that had been mounted.

Without a second to recognize what was happening, Bradley's lips crashed into yours. You hesitated for only a split second before you met him with the same intensity. Lips melded together in a needy but gentle way, Bradley's hands hadn't moved from your sides as he slowly dropped some of his body weight onto yours. You were very much aware of how your body was reacting as Bradley deepened the kiss and were glad to note that he was reacting in a very similar way as he started to grind into you.

Suddenly, you felt Bradley's weight shift and his lips disconnected from yours. You didn't even have a chance to open your eyes when new lips started to attack yours. Met with much more urgency than the previous kiss, you were keenly aware that Jake Seresin had stepped in to take control of the situation. His hands that had previously been tormenting you were now running along your sides and brushing underneath the swell of your breasts. You let out a small hum as his tongue slipped past your lips and began exploring your mouth.

The hands that started rubbing up your thighs made you almost jump out of your skin. You hadn't remembered taking off your pajama pants, but Bradley's calloused grip on your bare thighs proved differently. Fingers suddenly hooked into your underwear and started to pull them down. You couldn't stop the moan that escaped into Jake's mouth as you felt your hips involuntarily arch up off the bed.

Jake's chuckle as he started to kiss down your neck brought you back into what was happening. As you started to sit up and protest (god knows why), you yelped as your head slammed back on the pillows, Bradley's tongue already kissing and licking up your thighs. You were sure the two pilots shared a look at each other, but you didn't care, groaning as Jake slid your t-shirt up, granting himself access to your already hard nipples.

The sounds that filled the room were obscene. Between the headache and the throbbing of every part of your body, you couldn't focus on all the sensations that were happening. Jake's teeth grazing your nipple. Bradley's tongue licking up and hitting your clit. Someone's hand was firmly grasping your ass, stuck between you and the mattress. You didn't realize that most of the noise was elicited out of you-swollen lips now dry as you arched you hips again, continually grinding into Bradley's face as his tongue alternated between your clit and licking well up into your aching hole

Suddenly, you felt Jake start to shift. Your eyes were all but screwed shut as you felt a new pair of hands start to stroke your inner thighs. As he moved, you realized it had to be Bradley's hand grabbing at your ass, his other hand holding down a hip. There was a moment of pause in Bradley's ministrations and you almost looked down to scold him, heart pounding and fully out of breath, when a finger slipped into you.

The moan that tore out of your chest was feral. Within milliseconds, Bradley's mouth was back on you while Jake's finger started pumping in and out of you, feeling every corner in side of you. You could barely make out the comments he was making over your own groans and whimpers. Suddenly, Jake slid two singers and scissored them out a bit, stretching you. You heard the sounds your now drenched core was making and could feel the tightness start to take over in your stomach and your thighs, release coming faster than you had anticipated.

You barely noticed that Bradley had moved from eating you out to kissing your thigh when you realized that Jake had removed a finger. You were about to reach for your glasses, completely unsure of what was going on when you felt Bradley's finger slip into you as well. The intricate motion of the two men inside you was too much, especially knowing that they had made this completely and utterly all about you.

It took only a few pumps and Jake gently rubbing his thumb against your clit before you started shaking and begging them not to stop. The rhythm of both men maintained the exact speed as you started to see nothing but white behind your eyelids and you legs started shaking. You snapped. The orgasm that his was harder than any you had ever had previously and you felt yourself clench tightly around the fingers that were still moving inside of you. You reached down to try and still them as you continued to ride the wave out, your hips bucking and pulling a long string of expletives out and your body stuttered.

In the silence after you finished, all you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears and our own labored breathing. Beads of sweat prickled on your body, you heaving chest starting to shallow out with each gasp. You groaned as both men pulled their fingers out, oblivious to any shared look or comment they made to each other. Your fucked-out grin was enough to show that you had enjoyed yourself entirely.

"Hey darlin'?" You lolled your head toward the door, unsure when Jake had moved off the bed. A small "mhmm" was heard from you as you felt blankets around you again.

"You alright? You were makin' all sorts of fun little noises in here..."

You shot up in bed, hand immediately grabbing blindly for your glasses. When they landed (too harshly) on your nose, you looked around. You were still in bed, blankets wrapped up around you, pajamas still firmly intact on your body, Jake in the doorway and no sign of Bradley at all. You eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as you chanced a look up at the tall aviator smirking at you.

"Nightmare," you scratched out, voice hoarse and lips still dry. He nodded with a small "ah" as you felt your heart pounding in your ears again, chest starting to tighten with the realization of what had just happened.

"All good. I told Bradshaw that I'd check on ya and get you up for today. Didn't want you to sleep through your entire Saturday..." The smile he gave you was dazzling and gave you the courage to try and stand up and make your way to the bathroom, desperately needing to pee and to splash cold water all over yourself. You gave him a sheepish grin as you padded towards the bathroom that he had first met you in when he caught your arm.

You stared into the mirror beyond the sink as Jake’s lips barely touched the outer shell of your ear. You could feel the warmth emanating off of him as the smell of him invaded your every sense.

"If you're going to dream about me, the least you can do is moan my name louder than Rooster's."

---------

"Penny. I'm gonna need you to give me the strongest gin and tonic you can muster. I will then take a Bud Light, bottle not draft, and then I'm going to drown myself in the ocean."

Penny glanced up at the clock. 10:37. She let out a small chuckle mixed with a sigh and passed you the drinks requested. She skipped the tonic in the gin and tonic all together and already had the Bud Light waiting as you started to down the hard liquor.

"Can you at least tell me why you've decided to kill yourself today of all days?" You looked at her with a sour look on your face (mostly from the burn of the gin).

"Why not today? I've lived a decent life. Nothing else I need to see," you said, matter of factly, taking a swig from the cool beer. Penny smiled and shrugged, taking her bar towel and throwing it over her shoulder as she looked out the back windows towards the beach.

"Oh, I think you should take care of all this business tomorrow, hon. I've got something you're definitely gonna want to see.” You followed her eyes as she started out from behind the bar, making her way to the back deck. You grabbed your beer and followed close behind her.

What was that line from the Disney movie? Ah, yes. "Rippling pectorals." Dear god, every member of the Top Gun mission squad had found themselves half naked on the beach playing some sort of bastardized game of keep away. Penny glanced at you as you took another long swing of your beer.

"Yeah..." you contemplated, a smirk playing on your lips, "I think I can wait to kill myself until tomorrow...."

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

A/N: A bit short, but I wanted to get SOMETHING out for you all tonight! This may be how I work in a throuple because my god, there are a lot of hands, fingers, mouths, bodies to keep track of! Let me know what you think (and yes, groan groan, the overdone "it was all a dream" I KNOW. But it was still fun :D )

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Taglist: You all are too kind and like my stuff too much! I have too many tags that I actually crash my uploads! Please consider following me and turning on notifications for my posts! Thank you <3

Hangman Taglist: @maverooster @rosiahills22 @ancabifi @multifandom-fangirl4 @dempy @luckyladycreator2 @chlo-feigh @angirlofallthings22 @rln108 @pricklepearbloom @natasharomanoffisbaebby @mizzy-pop @lizzie-rdj @mavswife @quackwackfawck @obiwankenobis-lap @icemansgirl1999 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @the-winter-marvel33 @alitav99

@arieltwvdtohamflash @jostyriggslover96 @notanordinaryprincess95 @luckyladycreator2 @mistressslytherin @fogle97 @thebluelioness @littlebadariell @daisyhollyxox @idfkwhyimhere4357 @actorinfluence @lieutenant-rooster-bradshaw @no-pilots-please @imagineyneyjr  @hey-its-kayla-claire @8oopsiedaisy8 @jakexfmc @desert-fern @smoothdogsgirl @bl6o6dy

Rooster Taglist:@alana4610 @athenxt @notanordinaryprincess95 @je-suis-prest-rachel @fogle97 @walkonthewiidside @lunamoonbbyy @newlibrary @n3ssm0nique @and-claudia @sadpetalsstuff @munsonseddieee @ancabifi @londonbeachgirl @kajjaka

@maverooster @justalonelyslytherin @kstevie567 @saraandthejets1 @bradshawwannebe @greatbigshiningstar @eminems-skittles @mavericksicybabe @julia-2904 @igotmajordaddyissues @saramaple

@timbradfordsboot @nobody7102 @icemansgirl1999 @caitlyn221b @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @craftytrashprincess @herladyshipxx @pedritobalmando @double-j @arianna-bradshaw @johnnycobra84 @hope-love-equality2 @katieshook02

[stardustdetective]

Groundhog Day - Part 1 Hux POV

The world shifted in greens and purples before finally landing on a solid aura of red. Red. Of course it was. Red like that stupid- there was a grunt next to him that caused Armitage to freeze.

He'd gone to bed alone last night.

He'd made sure he'd gone to bed alone.

He breathed in slowly, a familiar scent hitting his nose.

Ren.

Hux screwed his eyes shut in frustration as he remembered the big oaf lumping his way into their shared working space and refusing to leave. Of course that idiot had gotten into bed with him. Hux let out a regulated sigh of frustration before fully opening his eyes. There was a brief moment where he contemplated suffocating the other with a pillow before he realized how strong Ren's arms must be with the work he did.

When his boss had told him he needed to bring along a camera man he'd been peeved. When he'd been told he needed to take the galoot that insisted on using outdated machinery and managed to carry it like a child carried a grain of sugar, Hux had choked on his drink. It was one of his less flattering moments but he was drawn out of the memory with another of Ren's guttural groans that bordered on snoring. No. No smothering just wouldn't work.

With a heavy and resigned sigh, Hux pushed himself up and moved off at the foot of the bed. He winced as it creaked and he heard another snore cut short by the sudden movement. Armitage froze not wanting to deal with the classless ape any sooner than necessary. He didn't have time to explain the basics of their job again to the man. Again. But as the sounds resumed a rhythm that seemed regular, Hux felt it safe enough to get up and head to the bathroom to freshen up. At least there he'd have a few minutes of peace.

[smww4ever]

A Tale of Two Supermen

I know, I have eyesight problems. It’s a struggle everyday, but I swear there are two different Supermen flying about.

You know how they say men act differently when they’re with a different woman? Bear with me, in the real world, you can fall in love and invest a chunk of your life with someone, and yet the fruits of that relationship go nowhere. You also act a certain way with them or they bring out either good or bad qualities in you. Maybe you always feel anxious around them or maybe you always have butterflies and your heart skips a beat when you see them. You’re either lifted up or held back by the life partner you choose. I know, I’ve seen this in my own life and in others.

Well, I see this in the drawings and even Ai images. A relationship dynamic comes through in the essence of the image. The Clark we see with Diana is not the Clark you see with Lois. Of course, we’ve never seen Clark with Diana in any live-action, but I bet it would be quite apparent.

Mr. Lane

The one most are familiar with is the big galoot who is with Lois Lane. We’ve seen them together for the longest. It’s been played out in every movie, cartoon, comic and tv show ever made. He wants to show off to just one woman. The one woman in the world that he’ll turn back time for. The one woman he’ll give up his powers for, just to bang. The one woman in the world that he can hear, but not his mother. The one woman that he will turn into psychopath if she dies. The guy that will never move on in life if she was nonexistent. Some may find this very romantic.

The clumsy, bumbling country boy from Smallville who is always brushed off by the competitive Ms. Lane until he turns into Superman. Oh, they may have softened her up in later productions where she embraces country life, but Mr. Lane gets softened up too. He can’t see that she has cancer, or help her cure it. They hold him back and nullify the reason he was sent to Earth in the first place. Not for Ms. Lane, but for humanity.

Kal

The other Superman is a super-powered alien who is with Diana, Princess of Themyscira, a super-powered demigod. The vibe is totally different with this guy. He looks human and does very human things, but the alien ancestry and heritage is there, and they’re in balance. He exudes an extreme intelligence, depth, confidence and altruism that centers around a love for humanity. He has common ground with not only an extraordinary woman but her culture and background. They have common goals. Common values. Maybe they disagree from time to time on some things, but they still come together to do for the world what the world cannot. A romance between these two does not lessen that, but only strengthens it.

Next time, take a look. A good look. You’ll see.

[engineer-gunzelpunk]

Its been a bit of a while since I put some fiction up. I'm gonna introduce another character while I am at it, because why not.

Here I introduce "Puffing Billy" or as his human name is, William Vauclain the 1st. Esq. or Victorian Railways NA-class 2-6-2 T 2A, one of a pair of original Baldwin Works locomotives sent to Australia; one of many "Puffing Billies" that chuff along the Narrow Gauge Belgrave to Gembrook line in the Dandenong Ranges.

(Baldwin Works of Philadelphia in the early days of the Victorian Railways produced a lot of locomotives for them, the so called "Yankee" locomotives; to my limited knowledge, a Baldwin D3 is preserved at the Newport Railway Museum, all the rest have been scrapped including 1A and 2A; but 2A lives on has my fictional char...)

All the remaining NAs, including the ones that chuff around the Puffing Billy railway today, were built at Newport Workshops.

Here he meets Heavy Harry in for the first time, in the midst of the Scrappings...

The Man In Black

Preamble

Sometime in the late 60's

“You call me ‘cute’ again, and I will break your kneecaps! I might be short, but your knees and shins are perfectly in reach, you great galoot!”

The tiny, short, potbellied narrow gauge engine in human form stares with unblinking hostility at the black clad titan and his slighter red-haired companion. The big Man In Black merely stares back with an inscrutable expression.

He is only 5ft’’, 1’, but he is very round, squat and powerful. He is clad in an old-timey American engineers outfit, complete with striped hat and thick gloves. The only tell of his locomotive being is the lamp affixed to his hat.

He kept this affectation long after he got humanised, no matter how much the humans that ran the joint discouraged him from doing so. It amused him to tease and vex railfans by wearing such an out-of-place set of clothing on an Australian preservation railway.

He is not at all impressed by the pair of tall timbers in front of him dressed like delinquents.

Yobbos.

He had been in the country long enough to know what a ''yobbo'' was, if they played the fool on his railway he’d chase them off.

Others he’d cut to pieces with dour humor if they ever even so much as smirked at his get up.

The Man in Black takes a puff of the cigarette.

“Stroppy little bastard, aren’t you?”

“I’d be ‘stroppy’ if some so-called 'King of the Railways' came over to my abode and started throwing their weight around! I haven’t seen you in the entire time we’ve existed, and now that the VR has destroyed your railway, you show up to mine!

Whaddya want?!”

“I never said I was the king of anything. No Gods, No Masters…”, said the Man In Black, the red-head shaking his head from side to side.

“Nae, not a word of it!” said the red head.

“Then why are you even here, all the way in the Dandenongs? Don’t you have a heritage railway of your own to puff around on?”, the little tank engine stood proud, chomping on his cigar.

“You have no idea who I am and why I have come, haven’t you?”

“All I know is that there’s this guy, this Big Harold fellow, who you seem to be, who’s some kind of king of the VR locomotives… well, you aren’t my king!”

“Well, then it’s a good thing I’m not looking for subjects then…” said the Man In Black.

“Then why have you come all the way over here, surely its tiring for your big self to be walking around like this…”

Silence for a few moments. A nerve had been struck.

“I’ve heard you are a stroppy bastard, Puffing Billy… It just so happens I really, really like stroppy bastards...”

Puffing Billy is suspicious, narrowing his eyes to slits. “What do you want from me…”,

“First, I want to know who built you…””

Puffing Billy is taken aback… “You came over all the way from where you live just to ask me that?

‘If it’s that important, its Baldwin Works, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, United States of America to you!”, he gesticulates, pointing sassily at the Man In Black.

“Hmmmm, Billy from Philadelphia… shall I call you ‘Billy From Philly’ to distinguish you from the other Puffing Billies here?"

Puffing Billy laughed for the first time since meeting the Man In Black, “’Billy From Philly’!?, Ha! Only took about a half a century for someone to come up with it, but I like it!

But I presume there's something more to this…”

“Yes. There was nothing arbitrary with what I said about me liking ‘stroppy bastards’. I heard you are the stroppiest of all in this state…”

“Uh huh…”

“You and your humans have managed to stave off the scrappers during the Lokodammerung, haven’t you? And Operation Phoenix?”

The little engine scratches his head.

“I can’t lie, big fella, it was a very tough going for a while. We did close a while, but we opened up because the humans wanted us operating, and managed to wrangle control of the railway ever so slowly from VR to the Preservation Society. We won a huge battle and we’re damn proud of it!

‘But we can’t just physically fight the scrapping, Big Harold! Its impossible!”

The Man In Black only smiled his ironic half-smile.

“Oh yes we can… but not as an end in of itself, we aren’t martyrs. We do that, we lose.

‘We can’t simply fight them, we need to make things easier for our human allies and ourselves and to make things more difficult for them… we need to buy some time for our kin and an opportunity for our human brethren to rescue them...”

‘This is what I need you, your cussedness and your gift with machinery for…”

“I’m listening…” said the newly minted Billy From Philly.

[campusbcys]

group dare for taylor, anthony & benjamin. cumshot contest, whoever shoots the most gets something special ;)

TRUTH OR DARE // accepting

"Sounds   like   we've   got   a   bit   of   a   cum-slut   on   our   hands."   Anthony   taunted.   Looking   up   from   his   seat,   he   smirked   as   Taylor   made   his   way   out   of   one   of   the   bedrooms;   zipping   up   his   jeans   as   he   sauntered   over.   "Hey,   Tay,   we   just   got   dared   to   do   a   contest.   Where's   the   big   galoot?"   He   questioned   with   a   laugh.

"Benjamin?   Last   I   saw   him   he   was   with   some   of   the   pledges."   Getting   up,   Anthony   and   Taylor   moved   to   the   doorway   connecting   the   front   room   of   the   house   to   the   dining   room   (which   was   used   more   for   beer   pong   than   it   ever   was   for   eating).   It   wasn't   an   uncommon   sight   to   see   pledges   on   the   floor,   eating   their   food   or   doing   homework   for   the   brother's--   one   of   the   many   rules   was   they   weren't   allowed   to   use   furniture   until   they   made   it   through   rush.   The   unusual   bit   was   seeing   Benjamin   sitting   with   them.   "Yo,   smoot   brain,   get   your   ass   over   here.   We   have   a  ��dare."   Anthony   demanded   with   mild   annoyance   as   Taylor   smirked   and   shook   his   head   with   amusement.

"Huh,   oh,   okay.   You   guys   can   finish   my   food   if   you   want,"   Benjamin   spoke   with   a   wide   smile,   addressing   the   pledges   he   had   joined   for   lunch,   before   clambering   to   his   feet   and   jogging   over   to   join   his   brothers.   "What's   up   guys?"   He   was   beaming   and   not   even   Anthony   reaching   over   to   cruelly   knock   him   in   the   nuts   with   his   knuckles   was   enough   to   knock   the   smile   from   his   face;   as   far   as   he   was   concerned,   that   was   how   Anthony   always   greeted   him   so   it   was   the   same   as   a   hello   or   a   wave.

"Keep   up   dude,   I   already   told   you   we   have   a   dare."   Anthony   grumbled   with   a   roll   of   his   eyes.

"Yeah,   but   in   Benji's   defense   you   still   haven't   told   us   what   it   is."   Taylor   pointed   out.

Ignoring   them   both   for   a   moment,   Anthony   took   hold   of   the   whistle   he   was   wearing   around   his   neck   and   blew   out   three   loud,   sharp   tones.   Within   a   matter   of   seconds,   three   of   their   current   pledges   ran   into   the   room   and   dropped   onto   their   knees   in   front   of   each   of   them.   "I   love   when   they   do   that,"   Anthony   mused,   mostly   to   himself,   as   he   walked   over   to   a   nearby   table   to   grab   three   shot   glasses   before   coming   back   to   join   his   brother's   again.   "So,   here's   the   deal.   The   three   of   us   got   dared   to   see   who   has   the   best   cumshot.   I   figured   we'd   make   it   a   bit   more   interesting   and   instead   of   taking   care   of   things   ourselves,   these   pledges   here   are   going   to   jerk   us   off,"   he   explained   as   he   handed   each   pledge   a   shot   glass,   "and   catch   our   loads   for   us.   Apparently   winner   get's   a   prize."

Before   he   had   even   finished   explaining   things,   Benjamin   was   already   undoing   his   jeans   and   pulling   his   flaccid   cock   out.

"Someone's   excited,"   Anthony   teased   as   he   settled   into   place   between   Benjamin   and   Taylor.   "Let's   have   a   fair   game   boys,   and   don't   be   a   poor   sport   when   the   two   of   you   lose."

Once   all   three   of   them   were   in   position,   and   ready,   the   pledges   were   quick   to   set   the   shot   glasses   down   so   they   could   spit   into   their   hands   and   focus   on   getting   their   respective   brother   hard.   Taylor   was   the   first   to   get   fully   erect,   then   Benjamin,   then   Anthony.   After   a   few   minutes   of   eager   stroking   and   spitting,   the   three   fraternity   brother's   were   breathing   hard   and   groaning   as   the   pledges   obediently   got   them   off.   The   first   to   reach   their   peak   was   Taylor.   Quickly   grabbing   the   shot   glass,   his   pledge   looked   up   with   wide   eyes   and   flushed   cheeks   as   Taylor's   massive,   thick   cock   seemed   to   swell   before   he   shot   his   load   into   the   shot   glass.   Much   to   his   dismay,   though,   he   only   filled   it   up   half-way.

Taylor   was   next,   groaning   loudly   and   calling   his   pledge   a   bitch,   he   shuddered   a   bit   as   ropes   of   thick,   warm   cum   volleyed   out   of   his   cock   and   filled   the   shot   glass   his   pledge   was   holding   to   the   brim.

Finally   Benjamin   reached   his   peak.   Moaning   loudly   as   he   began   to   climax,   his   pledge   barely   had   time   to   position   the   shot   glass   properly   to   catch   his   load.   Not   only   did   Benjamin   fill   up   the   shot   glass,   he   even   managed   to   shot   a   stray   rope   or   two   onto   his   pledges   face,   before   the   rest   covered   their   hand;   making   his,   by   far,   the   biggest   load.

They   all   stood   there   for   a   minute,   catching   their   breaths   as   their   pledges   continued   to   kneel   there   and   wait   for   further   instruction.

"That's   fucking   pathetic   Tay,"   Anthony   laughed   as   he   glanced   over   at   Taylor's   shot   glass.

"Yeah,   okay,   first   of   all--   screw   you.   I   literally   just   got   head   from   one   of   the   pledges   before   you   called   me   out   here   so   I   was   at   an   unfair   disadvantage.   Ask   anyone.   I   normally   shoot   more   than   that.   I--   I   was   just   a   little   spent,   that's   all.   You   should   have   told   me   what   the   dare   was   first   so   I   could   have   asked   you   to   wait   a   bit."   Taylor   rambled   on   in   defense   of   himself.   "This   was   hardly   a   fair   contest   and   you   know   it."

Smirking   and   shaking   his   head   in   amusement,   Anthony   turned   his   attention   to   Benjamin's   mess   but   before   he   could   say   anything   he   watched   as   Benjamin   reached   over,   grabbed   his   shot   glass,   and   swallowed   down   his   load.   "Mmm,"   Benjamin   hummed   as   he   swallowed the contents of   Anthony's   shot   glass.   "I   think   Anthony   win's,   his   taste's   the   best."

"Damn   Ben..."   Anthony   answered   with   a   look   of   surprise   on   his   face,   reaching   up   to   scratch   at   the   side   of   his   head   as   he   stared   at   Benjamin.   "I   guess   I   misspoke   when   I   was   explaining   the   rules.   When   I   said   best   I   meant   biggest,   which   shockingly   means   you   won...   but   i'll   keep   in   mind   you   like   how   mine   tastes."

[tappedthedavidsassonce]

Prompt-

Gabriel is feverish and about a day ago he requested paper and colored pencils which he of course got… but all he can draw is this weird amalgam of gold, light yellow, red and brown? And smiling at it like it comforts him somehow. Oh! And he only looks Sammy in the eye! Well, he trails downward and vaguely looks all over Sam, but it’s more than what anyone else has gotten!

Gabriel is sick and in his delirium he’s started drawing Sam’s soul since it’s his favorite thing since the existence of the universe. (Which honestly could be 100% accurate) But all Sammy wants to do is feed the Angel some soup and get him to help on this hunt! With Cas away and Dean mourning the loss, he can really use the help! And maybe taking care of the big galoot isn’t SO bad…

(Ngl I just wanna see a sick!Gabriel fic where Sam helps him get better and they just kinda exist wholesomely fnsbdbdb)

[edwardalbee]

I’m eight years late to this but what’s your secret history fancast

It's so funny you should ask because i was literally just talking about this on twitter a few days ago. tbh i think it would work best if they went with unknowns, this is just kind of a "list of favorite younger actors" type beat so grain of salt.

i think dominic sessa would be really good and is sort of the right age and type for either richard or henry. in the book henry is supposed to be built like a linebacker and sessa is like 115 soaking wet in timbs but i think he has the right sort of Quiet Seething energy.

i also said justice smith as richard but i was being influenced by I Saw The TV Glow promo pics. i don't actually know him that well as an actor but anyone that jane schoenbrun casts i am locked tf in

for camilla i want sophie thatcher (nat from yellowjackets) or bailey bass (claudia on the new IWTV show tho shes been recast.) idgaf about charles. no one's favorite character is charles. i think even donna tartt forgot charles

people always say talented mr. ripley era philip seymour hoffman would have been the best choice for bunny and i agree even though he was way too old even then. but if I had to cast the son of a famous iconic big galoot I would have to go with michael gandolfini as Bunny. he has sort of a guileless quality that i think would be interesting and the same kind of impishness/effortless charisma as his dad which i think is important to the group dynamic.

my friend rob suggested matthew macfadyen "with julian assange hair" for Julian but i think the character is supposed to be in his sixties or seventies. always pictured him as bert cooper in my head. gregg turkington is Dr. Roland.

judy should be the girl who played young judy on the righteous gemstones. i feel really strongly about that

[mabelsguidetolife]

me and my mom both independently suggested the name ‘teddy’ to the cat that we BELIEVE to be a boy (we literally cannot tell) because he’s just a big ol’ galoot but my dad doesn’t like it

[sylphidine]

[Fic] Call Signs, Chapter 35

Fandom: Deltarune

‘Verse: Human AU

Pairings: Swatch/Spamton [Swatchton]; Spamton/T.M. [SpamManager or Tasqueton, not quite sure of the ship name]

Characters: Terese Marlena Tinker [previously T.M. Tanner], Catechu Dyer, Indigo Dyer, Spamton Addison, Swatch Paletta, Julius Dyer, Desiree Dyer, Kirov Rouvin

Rating: Mature

Chapter title: Bootstrapped Leitmotif

Chapter summary: Spring is newly sprung. Our cast of characters has some adjustments to make, some minor, some major.

Author notes: Wow, two chapters in a single week?

Happy International Fanworks Day.

No trigger warnings, but content warnings for present alcohol use and past dubious consent.

_________

T.M. had wasted no time in changing desire into action. After getting her mother to hand over all the official originals of the documents T.M. would need, she sent a notarized letter to Mrs. Tanner stating her request for a cessation of all unsolicited contact.

[T.M. had wanted to send the letter to the attention of "the future Mrs. Horseface Fucker", but Swatch and Spamton between them had talked her out of it.]

Letter sent, T.M. started the process of getting her name legally changed to Terese Marlena Tinker.

Washing dishes side by side with Catechu in Spamton's and Swatch's kitchen a few days later, she ticked off verbal bullet points to explain her thinking. “This is New York, the home of red tape. It’s gonna take months, no matter what the site says about six to eight weeks.  It’s probably better for me to get this nailed down before my job starts in July. Easier for HR, easier for any place where I end up signing a lease."

Indigo looked up from where he was finishing icing the brownies he'd made. "You're still going to be able to use TMT for your initials. That's smart. Keep your brand, kind of." 

"That's the idea."

Catto finished drying a plate and slotted it into the dish drain. Paying no attention to T.M.'s wet hands or the running water, he picked her up and twirled her around. "You're still my big sis, no matter what your name is. You can smack my head if I slip up and call you Tabsy."

"Same here. And chances are I'll mess up more than that galoot," added Indo, pointing at his twin. "He's had practice, at least."

"Oh? Do tell." Back on her feet now, T.M. abandoned the sink and moved to sit at the table, eyeing the brownies hungrily.

"Yeah, well, it's like this." Catechu rubbed the back of his head, looking sheepish. "Kendra's got a brother who used to be her sister, and now he's Emmett instead of Emily, and I don't always remember, so it's just easier for me to say 'Em' when I talk about her. Him, I mean."

This seemed to unlock some kind of heartfelt logjam, because Catto then burst out with, "I never had trouble when Swatch started wanting to be 'they'. So why is it so hard for me to hear you changing your name?"

Indigo looked at T.M., and she looked back at him. She got up and patted Catechu’s arm.

The big man was shaking. "Everything's changing, and I hate it."

The only thing T.M. could think of saying, "You both can still call me Tabsy."

Catto turned away and picked up another dish to dry that didn’t need to be dried. He said gruffly, “What the hell is taking Swatch and Spamton so long? There can’t be that many different kinds of cough drops at Pathmark.”

T.M. wisely did not point out that Swatch and Spamton had been gone less than ten minutes.

______

The two of them passed the registered letter back and forth.

ADDISON CYBERNETICS

1997 CIRCUIT DRIVE, SUITE 356

WHITE PLAINS, NY 10610

March 17, 2022

Dear Mx. Paletta:

Congratulations! I’m thrilled to extend an offer for our mask design internship in our Integrated Circuit Layout department at Addison Cybernetics.  

Your start date will be Monday, June 6, 2022. On your first day, you will report directly to Sam Chua. Your internship will take place between the hours of 9am and 4:30pm, with a cap at 48 hours per week should additional projects require it. 

We’re pleased to offer you a salary of $82.300 for the year’s internship, to be broken into weekly payments of $1582.69.  

At Addison Cybernetics, we pride ourselves on creating informative and rewarding experiences for our interns. That’s why you can look forward to receiving 1:1 mentorship, learning and development opportunities, and access to company privileges  

To accept this offer, please sign and return this letter by March 31, 2022. In the meantime, feel free to reach out with any questions. We look forward to welcoming you to the team.

Sincerely, 

Anne Demetriou

Human Resources, Addison Cybernetics

AD/glb

“I can’t believe how fast they made up their minds.  I only interviewed a week ago.”

“It’s to the c-c-company’s benefit not to - not to waste time.”

“I don’t know whether to kiss this letter or to frame it.”

“The f-f-first thing you need to do with that letter is sign all three copies and date - date them, s-s-send two of’em back, and THEN you c-can kiss the last one and put it under - our pillow.”

“Good thinking.”

“B-b-but you do know they’re lowballing you, right?”

“How so?”

“They’re g-g-going to make you do a full engineer’s work for the absolute minimum they can - they can g-get away with.”

“I don’t care. It’s a foot in the door. Besides, most of the engineering internships I looked at last year before Fairlight got sick paid less than half that.” “Shit. I t-take it back. You’re gonna be a k-king, king.”

“Thank you.”

Spamton pulled Swatch down on top of him with surprising strength and kissed them fiercely. “So, so proud of you,” he murmured into Swatch’s hair. 

_________

"Hello, fellow dreamers, this is DJ Dreamweaver. Before we all cross tonight's highways of fantasy together, so I can help you forget today's pain, I've got two announcements to make.

“First, and on the trivial side, due to seasonal shift changes here at WRCI, I’m pleased to announce that the DJ Dreamweaver show will be moving next week, starting on the 29th, to the Tuesday evening 8pm to 10pm slot. DJ Zonker will be burning the midnight oil with you on Wednesdays in my place to help you survive the midweek blues.

"Second, and much more importantly, don't forget that WRCI, the Nifty 850, the station that rocks a whole square block, will have a booth at the Seeds of Peace Festival in Garlic Park next month on Saturday, April 8th, rain or shine. The Seeds of Peace Festival is a fundraiser for relief efforts in Ukraine. Eight DJs from WRCI, including yours truly, will be spinning tunes from 8am until midnight for a sixteen-hour dance marathon to raise money for Ukraine. Sign up sheets and pledge forms are available to download from our website, or else pick up your hard copy from DJ Kaard in his office at the Student Union during station hours.

“Now it’s time to open the show with the late and much-missed Tom Petty, backed by his Heartbreakers and Jeff Lynne, performing ‘Learning To Fly’.”

_________

The vibrant, art-filled walls of SpaHa Soul never failed to send a shiver of happiness down Swatch’s spine. The Friday night after they got their offer letter, they followed Uncle Julius to a corner glass-topped table, while Indigo pulled out a chair for Aunt Desiree. Catechu chatted with the guitarist setting up for the evening’s set and waved at Artist T., just emerging from the kitchen with plates for the group of diners in the opposite corner.

Uncle Julius had found this place about eight years ago and it had become THE go-to place for Dyer-Paletta family celebrations.   

And tonight they were here to celebrate Indo and Catto’s getting summer internships at the Wythe in Williamsburg, as well as Swatch’s internship.

“Chef’s choice tonight, sir,” Uncle Julius said to Artist T., after getting a hearty backslap from the proprietor. “All three of these fine young people, going out into the world and making their mark!”

“It’s a better world for you all being in it,” agreed Artist T., making a note on his pad and heading back through the swinging doors.

“I like the new glasses, honey,” Aunt Desiree commented to Swatch. “You look good in aviators, and brown is a nice color for you.”

Swatch nodded.”The tint’s helpful for cutting out blue light, and since I expect I’m going to be spending a lot more time in front of screens with the new job, I figured they were worth a splurge.”

On the other side of the table, Indo was listing off all the different areas in the boutique hotel where he and his twin would be working during their ten weeks. “I don’t know how I’m going to keep a straight face when I’m answering phones and directing calls to ‘Le Crocodile’. It’ll probably get easier after a while. At least ‘Bar Blondeau’ sounds more normal. Only thing I’m worried about is getting there on time every day.”

“Better than the commute would have been if we’d gotten the gig at The Ludlow. That commute would have been a real bitch.” Catto caught his mother’s glare and muttered, “Sorry, mom.  It would have been a real bear .”

Uncle Julius laughed and then turned to Swatch. “You’re going to be cutting it awfully fine, between graduation and starting this new job. You’d better start looking at apartments now if you don’t think your landlady will extend your lease past June.”

“I know. Even with a decent salary, I’m either going to have to spend all my time commuting or all my money on a shoebox to live in.” They realized that it sounded like they were complaining, and quickly added with a laugh in their voice, “Or I could ask my favorite aunt to use her real estate agent superpowers and her mad networking skills.”

“That’s the spirit,” Aunt Desiree answered. “We’re not going to leave you out in the cold, even if you have to stay with us for a month or so while you’re getting your feet under you. You’ve got family, don’t forget.

Swatch smiled back at her. “I will never forget that.”

“And don’t forget we’re proud of you. All three of you,” Uncle Julius interjected, waving his hand to include his sons. “Not a bad apple in the bunch.”

“Thanks, Pop,” Indo replied for himself and for his brother. “Especially thanks for being such a good sport about us not working at Ambit Automation.” “Oh, you boys might still end up there if the economy tanks. Luxury disappears, but people always need manufacturing. Look at the Brooklyn Navy Yards. That’s as big a comeback as the Jazz beating the Nuggets.”

“But the boys are using their degrees,” Aunt Desiree pointed out. “Degrees that you and I both approved of, husband mine.”

“Yes, dear.”

At that moment Artist T. and Amber swooped in with platters of fried chicken, stuffed pork chops, coconut rice, spicy yams, and collard greens, enough to feed an army.

Catechu raised his glass. “To family.”

Four glasses clinked against his.

________

“Tell me more about these buff birdmen in corsets,” T.M. teased.

Spamton chuckled in embarrassed remembrance. “They weren’t  actually b-b-birds. They wore bird masks. Like - like beaks. Sexier than plague d-d-doctors.”

“So you turned your living room into an adults-only butler cafe for your twentieth birthday party.”

“I’m not - not pr-proud of who I was then. I didn’t - didn’t br-break the ‘no touch’ rule, but I did - I did ogle a lot.”

“You weren’t a complete sleaze, I guess.”

“Thank you, Trez.”

The first time Spamton had fumbled his words while trying out T.M. 's new name, “Terese” had come out of his mouth as “Trez”. To his relief and delight, she had happily adopted it as a nickname.

She was curled up in the basket chair in the upstairs room that Swatch had named “Spamton’s eyrie”. He was sitting on the floor and had his head in her lap while she played with his hair. Spamton had taken the advice of his current therapist and was now giving T.M. some of the edited “highlights” of his checkered past.

HEAVILY edited. 

“I c-could do the flexing thing, if you wanted. But I don’t think it would b-be quite as impressive as those g-guys.” He got to his knees and raised his face to meet her kiss.

They hadn’t moved beyond kissing yet, and T.M. seemed perfectly happy with that. She told him how much she enjoyed how carefully he kissed her. “Some guys think they have to be rough because I’ve got piercings, like it’s a challenge.”

Spamton was fairly sure that she knew he was careful only because he didn’t have a lot of experience kissing people with piercings, but she was too courteous to say so.  The snakebite bothered him less and less the more often they kissed, since her daily jewelry consisted of the tiniest of studs. 

The sound of the front door downstairs opening and shutting made them both smile. “Up here!” Spamton called out, sitting back down on the rug.

Swatch called back, “Are you decent?” as they climbed the stairs.

“Yes, and we’re even dressed!” T.M. trilled. This exchange had become the three’s shared joke.

“How was - how was d-d-dinner?”

“Fabulous. Real, honest-to-God soul food, in more ways than one.” Swatch took Spamton’s desk chair and turned to sit backwards on it. “My aunt and uncle send their love.”

“I gotta go down to Queens soon and just have a girly day with Desiree. It’s long overdue.” “Mmmm-hmmm. And maybe you can pick her brain about apartment-hunting. As Uncle Julius reminded me, graduation’s just around the corner.”

“Yeah.”

Spamton changed the subject to stave off the panic he felt at the idea of these two leaving him just when he'd found them. “N-now that all three - all three of us are here, c-can I ask both for a - a favor?”

“Of course.”

“Yeah, of course. Ask away, Short Stuff.”

“C-can you both sit in with me in the stu-stu-studio for the first leg of my radio show next week? I’m going to try something d-d-d-different and I kind of - kind of need both of you there.”

T.M. looked across at Swatch and nodded. Swatch got up and pulled Spamton to his feet and into a hug. With a suspicious raspiness in their voice, they said, “We’ll be there.”

_________

“I printed two copies, just in case you didn’t get a chance to.”

“Thank you, schwitthott.” T.M. took one of the sheets from Swatch and started reading. 

The two of them stood in the hallway of the student union, just outside the doors of WRCI’s main studio, waiting for Spamton. The dinnertime DJ was playing J-pop.

“He said this was your idea?” Swatch asked.

“Kind of. I mentioned I have a set of ‘go to hell’ playlists that I rotate through to cope with stuff. This timeline stuff though, that’s all 100% our lad’s doing.” T.M. smiled fondly.

“Our lad.  I like that. Not ‘lad’ like he’s our kid. but like we’re all lads together.”

“Uh huh.”

Swatch leaned against the wall and sighed. “So you know that he was homeless for a while, after… well, after everything.”

She nodded. “It explains a lot about his food issues. As horrible as it might sound, I’m really, really happy that it wasn’t what I first thought.”

“Oh?”

“I thought Spamton had the same thing going on that I did with my dad. At least the whole power-trippy withholding food thing so I had to hoard stuff. Trust me, I would have put at least one of his siblings through a wall if that’s what had happened.”

“Remind me never to wander down a dark alley with you when you’re pissed off with me, Moggy.” 

Swatch straightened up when they saw Spamton walking down the hallway towards the other two. 

T.M. murmured, “It’s showtime.” 

When he reached them, Spamton stretched up and gave each a kiss on the cheek. “Let’s - let’s do this thing.”

______

“Welcome to the premiere of the Tuesday night version of the DJ Dreamweaver show. Normally I give a little bit of background on what I’ve chosen for the night’s selections. This time around, I’m going to let the music do the talking. Thanks for listening.”

T.M. sat beside Spamton on one side of the booth, headphones on, ready to help him with the potentiometers for segues and fade-ins. Swatch sat on the opposite side, just there to listen and to give moral support. Spamton had mentioned that the playlist was less than an hour long, so Swatch would have plenty of time to leave before the extra Tuesday night shift they’d picked up at Plato’s.

They picked up the printed sheet of paper and started to read along with the lyrics Spamton had typed out, as well as Spamton’s notes as to why he’d put particular songs in his “timeline”. 

THE LOGICAL SONG - SUPERTRAMP

[ Self-explanatory, the little kid I was, and my boarding school days ]

When I was young

It seemed that life was so wonderful

A miracle, oh it was beautiful, magical

And all the birds in the trees

Well they'd be singing so happily

Oh joyfully, oh playfully watching me

But then they sent me away

To teach me how to be sensible

Logical, oh responsible, practical

And then they showed me a world

Where I could be so dependable

Oh clinical, oh intellectual, cynical

There are times

When all the world's asleep

The questions run too deep

For such a simple man

Won't you please

Please tell me what we've learned

I know it sounds absurd

Please tell me who I am

NUMB - MARINA AND THE DIAMONDS

[That’s when it started to hit me that I had a lot to live up to, being a part of the Addison family. Perfect set-up for Mike to step in]

One track mind like a goldfish

Stuck inside my Petri dish

I can't breathe and I can't smile

This better be worth my while

I feel numb most of the time

The lower I get the higher I'll climb

And I will wonder why

I got dark only to shine

Looking for the golden light

Oh, it's a reasonable sacrifice

Burn, burn, burn bright

Forego families, forego friends

It's how it started, how it ends

I can't open up and cry

'Cause I've been silent all my life

JUST LIKE YOU - THREE DAYS GRACE

[ all the accusations I threw back at my brothers and sister before breaking with them ]

I could be mean

I could be angry

You know I could be just like you

I could be fake

I could be stupid

You know I could be just like you

You thought you were standing beside me

You were only in my way

You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you

You thought you were there to guide me

You were only in my way

You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you

I could be cold

I could be ruthless

You know I could be just like you

I could be weak

I could be senseless

You know I could be just like you

On my own, cause I can't take living with you

I'm alone, so I won't turn out like you

Want me to

You thought you were standing beside me

You were only in my way

You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you

You thought you were there to guide me

You were only in my way

You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you

THE SANITY ASSASSIN - BAUHAUS

[Mike and all his lies. Hindsight’s 20/20, huh?]

Sinister echoes clutching at straws

Letter boxes screaming

You try to pin him to the wall

You end up on the ceiling

Locked in a dome

The shadows flicker by

He's the madcap pusher

Delirium the drug he's dealing

You empty yourself once again

But he's always one step ahead

He whispers in your ear

was it nothing that you said

He's walking in your sleep now

He keeps your fat paranoia well-fed

The sanity assassin

Stays up all night stalking

The sanity assassin

Picks off victims like flies

The sanity assassin

Let his fingers do the walking

He drops a capsule in your drink

And spikes your dreams with madness

I GOT YOU - SPLIT ENZ

[Deluding myself that Mike actually gave a damn about me]

I got you - and that's all I want

I won't forget - that's a whole lot

I don't go out - not now that you're in

Sometimes we shout - but that's no problem

Look at you - you're a pageant

You're everything - that I've imagined

Something's wrong - I feel uneasy

Reassure me - tell me you're not teasing

There's no doubt - not when I'm with you

When I'm without - I stay in my room

Where do you go - I get no answer

You're always out - it gets on my nerves

I don't know why sometimes I get frightened

You can see my eyes, you can tell that I'm not lying

But I don't know why sometimes I get frightened

You can see my eyes, can you tell me you're not lyin'

WHAT DO ALL THE PEOPLE KNOW? - THE MONROES

[The year of the trade show circuit]

You know I told you once tonight

That you could always speak your mind

You work so hard to say what's right

I watch you do it all the time

And when I called you on the phone

You said that I could be the one

But here I'm standing all alone

And you're out lying in the sun

Tell me, am I getting in too deep?

Every night I'm talking in my sleep

Lately I’ve been so confused

I really don't know what to do

Could you be the one I'm thinking of?

Could you be the one I really love?

All the people tell me so

But what do all the people know?

Maybe we're just holding on

To something that'll soon be gone

Do you think I'm blind to what you do?

Do you think I really care for you?

Do you think that we both should let it show?

Do you think that we both should let it go?

Or is it just another game that you and I pretend to play?

All the people tell me so

But what do all the people know?

UNKNOWN SOLDIER - BREAKING BENJAMIN

[Being lost in my own mind at the Pandora Palace for however long that was after the trade show circuit ended. I’m never going to get that time back.]

Border line,

Dead inside.

I don't mind,

Falling to pieces.

Count me in, violent

Let's begin, feeding the sickness.

How do I simplify,

Dislocate - the enemy's on the way.

Full of fear,

Ever clear.

I'll be here,

Fighting forever.

Curious,

Venomous,

You'll find me

Climbing to heaven.

Never mind,

Turn back time.

You'll be fine - I will get left behind.

It only hurts just once.

They're only broken bones.

Hide the hate inside.

Show me what it's like

To dream in black and white,

So I can leave this world tonight.

RUSTED FROM THE RAIN - BILLY TALENT

[life on the streets after he threw me away]

You hung me like a picture/Now I'm just a frame

I used to be your lapdog/Now I'm just a stray

Shackled in the graveyard/Left here to decay

DEATH ON TWO LEGS - QUEEN

[Finally starting to blame Mike rather than myself, during that second homeless winter just before Ballew found me]

You suck my blood like a leech

You break the law and you breach

Screw my brain 'til it hurts

You've taken all my money

And you want more

Misguided old mule with your pigheaded rules

With your narrow minded cronies

Who are fools of the first division

Talk like a big business tycoon

You're just a hot air balloon

So no one gives you a damn

You're just an overgrown schoolboy

Let me tan your hide

A dog with disease

You're the king of the sleaze

Put your money where your mouth is, Mister Know-All

Was the fin on your back

Part of the deal? (Shark)

Death on two legs

Tearing me apart

Death on two legs

You never had a heart (you never did)

Of your own (right from the start)

Insane, should be put inside

You're a sewer rat decaying in a cesspool of pride

Should be made unemployed

Then make yourself null and void

Make me feel good (I feel good)

[The first therapist I saw on Dr. George’s advice told me to start writing letters to my old Big Shot self as though they were a separate person, so that’s the last three songs. Maybe I’ll get closure, some day.]

PAID IN FULL - SONATA ARCTICA

It's hard for me to love myself right now,

I've waited, hated, blamed it all on you...

It's hard for me to love your face right now

I'm waiting, hating, needing being

Me...

I need you...less and less...

Every day leads us farther away...

From that moment

It’s hard for me to hate myself right now

Finally I'm understanding me

SUNSHINE - BARENAKED LADIES

Most of us, have learned to trust

What we see with our own eyes

But with blinders on you hardly realize

That out of view, it's still true

Even when no one's around

We can stumble and fall down

It's just as well, It's hard to tell

Cause my hindsight's crystal clear

But the view from then's not like the view from here

If you are passed through a looking glass

The important parts appear

But the details start to smear

I ran fast, but I came last

'Cause although I set the pace

It was rigged from the start that I'd lose this race

Sunshine burns your skin

Sometimes the things we love so much just eat us up from the outside in

Oceans blue will drown

I could find a way to live with your ghost but I won't be happy till I leave this town.

GOODBYE TO YOU - SCANDAL

Those times I waited for you seem so long ago

I wanted you far too much to ever let you go

You know you never got by your fear to choose

And I guess I never could stand to lose

It's such a pity to say

Goodbye to you

Goodbye to you

How could I have loved someone like the one I see in you

I remember the good times baby now, and the bad times too

These last few weeks of holding on

The days are dull, the nights are long

Guess it's better to say

Goodbye to you

Goodbye to you

Goodbye to you

Goodbye to you

'Cause baby it's over now

No need to talk about it

It's not the same

My love for you's just not the same

And my heart, and my heart

And my heart can't stand the strain

And my love, and my love

And my love won't stand the pain

Goodbye baby

So long darling

Goodbye to you

Spamton nodded at T.M. about halfway through Patti Smith’s final chorus, letting her know that he was getting ready for his talkback. She nodded back and cued up “Solsbury Hill” and “Scarecrow’s Dream” for him, as well as digging up an advertisement for Janovic Express to play at the quarter of the hour.

Swatch dug out the painted signboard they’d made and held it up wordlessly so that Spamton could see it.

You Are Loved. And You Are Stronger Than You Know. Never Forget That.

Spamton blew Swatch a silent kiss in return. 

Swatch left a few minutes later to go do their shift. T.M. stayed another half-hour and then slipped Spamton a note telling him to meet her down at Plato’s Cave.

There were plenty of spots open at the bar, but the one in the dead center of the ten or so stools was taken up by a reddish-haired stranger who looked like Sid the Sloth from ICE AGE. And he was following Swatch’s every move with his bugged-out eyes.

T.M. thought of Spamton’s bird-masked buff butlers in corsets and giggled to herself, picturing Swatch in that kind of outfit. This had to be that freshman who Swatch said was a fixture on Wednesday nights. How the kid had figured out that her bestie was on duty tonight, she didn’t have a clue, but she got the devilish urge to mess with the guy’s mind a little.

She sat herself down at the farthest end of the bar and put her purse on the seat beside her to reserve it. When Swatch came over to take her order, she whispered, “When Spamton gets here, give him the old ‘your usual, sir?’ routine. And then follow my lead.”

Swatch caught on swiftly and gave her a wink while asking in their clearly audible customer service voice, “May I suggest a Blue Moon for the young lady?”

“Oooooh, that sounds yummy,” T.M. squealed in her best imitation of some of the airheads she had loathed in high school.

“Very good. I’m certain you won’t be disappointed.”  Swatch moved away to get her a bottle and a glass.

Blue Moon was a fruitier beer than she usually drank, but it had the benefit of being known for putting lightweights under the table.

T.M. was no lightweight, but she was a fantastic actress.

The things we do for love , she thought to herself.

________

Spamton hit the switch for the cold open after his final talkback, unhooked the vocoder, hung up his headphones, and queued up the next few selections for segue for the DJ who would be following him. 

It seemed to him that time was moving both at a snail's pace and in the blink of an eye. The past few weeks had established a new status quo in his life and had brought about changes that were cementing the groundwork of his partners' lives.

Partners, plural.

He still had to grin and hug himself at the thought of having partners. Equal partners. No bloody power imbalance. No secrets. No head games. No possessiveness. No jealousy.

The new love didn't outshine the old. He didn't love Swatch any less now that he had Trez to love as well.

His heart sank, though, as he crossed the floor of Plato’s Cave and saw Kirov Rouvin seated at the bar. He was obviously trying to engage Swatch in flirtatious banter while Swatch was trying to juggle drinks and food orders for several other customers.

Including bringing another bottle of beer to one very familiar girl with golden contact lenses and blue tips at the ends of her hair. They put it down in front of her and said in an unnecessarily loud voice, “I’m afraid I will need to cut you off after this one, miss.”

Was T.M. drunk?  He hurried over to the seat beside her and looked anxiously into her face.

She tittered at Swatch’s comment, and then turned to face Spamton, her eyes stone cold sober while she grinned inanely.

Ah.

Not sure what’s going on here, but I’ll play my part.

He pulled himself up onto the barstool, pretending to ignore T.M. and waiting for Swatch to approach him, in the meantime keeping an eye on Kirov.  The young Chechen had yet to see Spamton, since Kirov’s eyes were fixed on Swatch.

Swatch finally finished with their flurry of transactions and came over to Spamton.  “The usual, my good man?” they asked him, the mellifluousness in their voice turned up to eleven.

Feeling like a celluloid hero, he replied, “Yes, indeed!”

And Swatch leaned over the bar and kissed Spamton on the forehead.

Applause broke out from the tables behind him and seemed to rouse T.M. from her state of faux -inebriation. “Hey, I wan’ some of that,” she slurred, standing up.

Kirov’s face was red and his eyes were narrowed into angry slits. Spamton sighed to himself and thought, might as well go for broke.

“It’s constitutionally impossible for me to refuse a lady.” He extended a hand to T.M. in the time-honored fashion of asking someone to dance, and she placed her hand.in his, not forgetting to loop her purse over her wrist. Clasping her around the waist, he began to circle her around the floor while crooning the song that came to mind when he saw the empty bottle on the bar.

Blue moon

You saw me standing alone

Without a dream in my heart

Without a love of my own

Blue moon

You knew just what I was there for

You heard me saying a prayer for

Someone I really could care for

The impromptu waltz had them near enough to the doors to make a dramatic exit. Spamton called over T.M.’s shoulder to Swatch, “I’m going make sure this dolly gets home in one piece. See you there, sweetie?”

“Sure thing, darling," Swatch replied.

The wolf whistles and catcalls were cut off as the heavy oaken doors closed behind them.

Once outside, T.M. immediately shed her drunken lolling posture. “God, that was fun. And hopefully that stops any more workplace harassment for Swatch.”

“You are br-brilliant as well as b-b-b-beautiful.”

Now that he no longer had to channel both Cary Grant and Fred Astaire at the same time, Spamton was feeling the adrenaline that had sustained him all night starting to drain away.  It was good to see with his own eyes that Swatch hadn’t been exaggerating Kirov’s increasing creepiness, and T.M.’s little maneuver was better than anything he could have come up with.

T.M. noticed the change in his mood and asked, “Are you going to be able to relax after all this?”

He took a minute to think about it so  that he could answer her honestly. “N-not right away, no.”

“Do you trust me?”

He didn’t even have to think for a second. “Yes.”

“Come with me, then. I’ll text Swatchy so that they don’t wait up and worry.”

TO: BIRDMAN

FROM: MOGGY

taking spamton to the invisible castle

FROM: BIRDMAN

TO: MOGGY

See you both in the morning. Be safe.

[sullustangin]

Fluffy February Day 26: Joy

SWTOR

Date:  38 BTC and 38 ATC

Pairing:  Background Theron Shan/Smuggler

Words: ~970

~~

38 BTC

“Dinner!”

The great war among the Ogulani and the Trezipor was paused as the two generals and their action figures heard the call.  

One curly-haired head popped up from their backyard fort, then a second, larger head with short hair appeared as well.  He hated his curls so he always kept the hair short.  His younger brother didn’t have the same problem; Kal was always easy-going, wanting to please people.  His mother and her friends clucked over his pretty hair, and he kept it.  Jace was stubborn and didn’t like being fussed over; he went with his father to get regular haircuts.

Kal was off like a shot at the announcement that dinner was ready, but Jace wasn’t about to let his greedy little brother sweet-talk his mother out of extra special fried potatoes. He grabbed his brother by the ankle and, with a good strong yank, made him eat dirt.  He got to his feet and made tracks toward the house.

But while Jace had size and strength, Kal had swiftness and his own brand of stubborn when it came to food. Scrawny legs – due to rapid growth, definitely not from being hungry – churned quickly, shoelaces flopping around, already dingy from many races such as this.

At the last second, just as Jace’s front foot hit the doormat, Kal launched himself onto his big brother’s shoulders.  “Gee Deee Kal!  Get off me!”

“Get out of my way, ya big galoot!”  Kal shouted as he felt Jace’s fingernails digging into the arm he’d wrapped around his neck. “And I’m gonna tell Mom you said ‘gee dee’!”

“I said ‘gee dee,’ not the actual words!” Jace protested. “Daddy says it all the time.”

And as if by magic, their father was summoned.  “Don’t drag me into this,” he said as he emerged from the living room to let his wild boys into the house.  “Wash up. Butts in chairs at the table. I have taken pre-emptive action on the potatoes – don’t even think about it.”

Jace and Kal exchanged a look.  Daddy was apparently reading the ‘word of the week’ article in the local holo news flimsi. He’d stopped school when he was thirteen to be a laborer, but he read when he could.  

Jace set Kal back down on his feet, and Kal let go of Jace.  Obediently, they lined up the bathroom and took turns washing hands. As they filed into the eating room – not quite the kitchen, but not really a formal ‘dining room’ like rich folk had it – both boys tolerated their mother’s  hello kiss on their foreheads.

~~

38 ATC

Those days seemed endless to Jace Malcom, when he was a child.  When he looked back on them, as an adult, he always wanted to get back to that. He didn’t know how precious those days were and what joy those memories brought him as an adult.

He never had kids of his own, so he never became ‘Daddy.’  Well, technically, he was, but he never knew it until the child was far past the age of being parented.  Even thinking of those old days stung now, because… Jace had missed the chance.  He could have gotten married and had kids, but he was stubborn and had too many high standards.  

It was Satele or bust for him.

And bust it was.

Jace knew it was better that he didn’t if he considered anyone other than her ‘bust.’ And he’d seen Marcus Trant run through four wives over the years, and he saw how the divorce from Mrs. Trant #2 affected the kids and their relationship with their father.

(Stars, how funny it was to know that Theron numbered the Mrs. Trants the same way.)

Jace had retired to Alderaan. He sat on his porch and watched the native wildlife run around most days.  He worked on Tanya, his now ‘vintage’ swoop.  He watched documentaries and read non-fiction holobooks.  

It was a quiet life. He liked it.  

He liked it even more when family visited.  

He really liked it when his daughter-in-law commandeered his kitchen.  

He smiled and closed his eyes for a second when he heard “Dinner!” be yelled out through the open front door. But he opened his eyes quickly.

Two little heads had popped up, and he saw the dust being kicked up as they scuffled for the advantageous launch into their foot race.  

His grandson, Argo, won that one, already towering over his sister.  

The small stampede headed right toward him on the porch.  

Dyo didn’t give in easy though.  Stubbornly, she chased after her big brother.

Only Argo made it to the porch steps; Dyo had disappeared around the side of the house.  Jace pushed himself off of his chair to peer around the side –

And there she was, climbing up the side of the house, clearly using the climbing gloves her father had given her for her birthday ‘without direct adult supervision.’

Jace heard Eva’s voice remind Argo as he banged through the front door, “Make sure you wash up before you sit down.”  

“Ah, kriff.”

“Just realized your sister outsmarted you, eh?” Eva asked approvingly.  “Then again, you’re not about to get grounded, so you’re the winner today.”  

At the exact same moment, Dyo let out a squeal.   “What are you doing on the roof?”

“What are you doing on the roof?” asked Theron, who had been perched up there ever since Eva gave him the sign that dinner was about to be called in.  

“Fresher is right there, and this is faster than the stairs!”

“In you go. Wash up, and we’ll have a talk about those gloves –”

“You gave them to me!”

“Yeah, but we had an agreement –”

A noisy house was a joyful house, in Jace’s opinion.

~~

A/N:    Satele and Jace are probably close in age, and she is known to be born in 3699/46 BTC. That makes Jace about 8 years old in the first section, 38 BTC. Both Jace and Satele are about 46 when it’s signed in 3653 BBY, and Theron is about 13.  38 years after the Treaty of Coruscant, we have 9 year old Argo (who is a good boy) and 6 year old Dyo (who is chaos, incarnated).  Theron is 51(!) and Eva is about 43 at this point (born 10 BTC, but didn’t age for 5 years in carbonite).  ...and Jace is 84 !

~

@fluffyfebruary @ermingarden @starlightcleric @ayresis @bluephoenix1347