#he's not over the beanie he still ain't

[pearlzier]

────⠀ ⠀SKATER.ᐟMATT × RICH.ᐟREADER

RICH.ᐟREADER ,, cheetah print. takes no shit. expensive taste. silver jewelry. fur, fur, fur. lip gloss. megan thee stallion coded. always got a sassy comment. knows all the drama. still sheltered despite everything. bad bitch.

SKATER.ᐟMATT ,, beanies. backwards caps. baggy everything. cuts and bruises from skating. never not wearing rings. scratches your initials on the back of one of his boards. dominic fike coded. snarky & sarcastic.

NOTES ,, thank u to bae @lovesickgrlsrh0t for planting these brainworms in my head i fear these two are my literal faves atm </3 also the triplets hit 7m n im so proud of them 😞💓 MDNI thank u

YOU'D KNOWN OF MATT BECAUSE OF A MUTUAL FRIEND. the friend was someone you'd gotten to know at a party, not exactly in your crowd, but the party was one with various people who dabbled in various things. you liked the friend, yeah, and they talked about a friend of theirs called matt, often. a skater, like.. one of those types to get caught trespassing on private property whilst hanging out, or something. not the type to attend nice galas and drink the finest wines in fancy ass outfits.

so you hadn't really cared about him, no. he was just a guy you knew of. and to matt, you were just some stuck-up socialite who he'd happened to go to school with since kindergarten. he didn't hate you, no, but like.. he wasn't exactly fond of you. he wasn't into the whole high life you associated yourself with. so it was obvious: the two of you were total opposites and wouldn't interact ever. especially since it was senior year, why would you in the first place?

turns out, it was actually quite simple. you'd been skipping class, as per usual, but had gotten caught this time. matt hadn't completed his coursework. now? detention, for the both of you. you'd most definitely considered skipping detention, since you had other engagements to attend, but you knew your parents wouldn't let you attend any other engagments for the rest of your senior year if you did. you're very clearly upset about detention, a pout adorning your glossy lips, your eyes fluttering around with not an ounce of enthusiasm.

it was just you and matt, you quickly realise. you stare at him for a minute, eyes narrowing. this catches his attention, and he cocks a brow as he glances up at you, "you get detention for havin' a starin' problem or what?" he's blunt, almost dead pan, rolling his eyes at the sight of you just.. staring at him. this makes your brow furrow, "that ain't no way to treat someone you've never talked to before, is it? jeez." you scoff under your breath, folding your arms over your chest. not wanting to act all petulant infront of the.. barely even a teacher, it's some substitute.

matt's quiet as he watches you sit down, the way you sit a far bit away as if being next to him will degrade the expensive material of your outfit. a scoff escapes him, in a similar fashion to your own, and he shakes his head, glancing away. you have this tendency to.. well, not shut up, so you start whining under your breath about how you were supposed to be at some gala, mingling with other stuffy, rich people but you were here. with him.

matt's just watching you, completely baffled and amused by you. it was absolutely so shallow of you and pretty vapid, ut he found himself a little intrigued. his eyes liked what he was seeing, you're pretty, super pretty. you dress like you know it too. "uh," he starts, "you didn't ask for my two cents on the whole.. gala thing, and i know i ain't the type to even be goin' anywhere near those things, but—could always pay someone to go for you. you got the money, don't you?" that causes a silence to settle over you, and you're quiet for a minute.

but then you burst out laughing, a sound that matt knows he wants to hear more of. he tries to hide a small smile, but then you're switching up on him the instant you realise you're laughing at something he'd said. "i got the money, but i ain't payin' someone to enjoy the time i was going to. defeats the whole purpose, dumbass." the smile switching to a glare damn near gave him whiplash. his brow furrows once more, and he raises his hands in surrender.

"shit, okay, okay, keep whinin' then," god, he didn't understand you, not at all. you were something, alright. "..'n' who're you callin' a dumbass?" he mumbles under his breath, sighing as he glanced back at the ceiling once more. giving you a quick glare, in return, that ends your conversation quite abruptly. but both of you are intrigued by eachother, clearly.

"you look so out of place here, kid," matt can't help but laugh at you. the said mutual friend from before had invited you to some party at some random guy's house. a birthday party, or some shit. a total lapse of judgement on your part, you knew, and you'd literally snuck out of your parent's place to be there. why the fuck did you do that for? you looked so out of place, he was right. you're stood there like even touching a single thing'll kill you on the spot.

you glare at him instantly, folding your arms under your chest which instantly draws his attention down to your cleavage. you notice, of course, hating the way a warm feeling bubbles in your stomach from how he looks at you. "don't remember ever askin' for your input," your head tilts, "just 'cause you got a pretty face don't mean you needa' go 'round stickin' your head where it don't belong."

"you think i got a pretty face? how sweet," he sticks his tongue out, a soft smirk gracing his lips. he looks good. dark tufts of hair stick out from beneath his beanie, the colourful lights set up causing a nice sheen to glow down onto his face. you're not crushing on him though—no, no. he's just some skater. he could never give you what you want. "c'mon, relax a little," he says his words soon after his first few just so you don't get a chance to snap at his cocky remark, catching you off guard.

"i don't know anyone here," you mutter under your breath, fiddling with your expensive necklace, once again drawing his attention downwards. he's pretty sure you're doing it on purpose now, honestly, since you keep doing it. those nails.. he's imagining them wrapped around other things, that's for sure. "you know me," his voice is a little gentler, and he nods over to the kitchen where beer pong is set up, "it'll be fun. loosen' you up a lil' bit." you're skeptical for a moment, but you nod, making your way over with him.

he has to say, he's into how quiet you get when you're somewhere out of your comfort zone. you're not as mouthy, or annoying. as much as he loves your banter, the flirty insults between you two, well.. he likes you like this. "you've never played beer pong?" matt's literally gasping, staring at you like you're insane.

your face scrunches up at that, "well, yeah. no one's playin' beer pong at a party where they serve scotch—" you shake your head, sighing. he wanted you to loosen up? you'd loosen up. he gives you a look as if to say chill out, before he laughs quietly when you do, in fact, chill out. "i'll teach you. s'easy." his voice is easy, low. and you notice how close he's stood next to you. "you're a quick learner, m'guessin'."

"sure," you roll your shoulders in a shrug, glancing at the beer pong being set up for another round before you look back at matt. "yeah," you affirm after a minute. matt glances at you with a soft, incredulous look before he shakes his head. "c'mon, i don't bite. neither does the beer. at least, it shouldn't." you're calming down with him already, he likes that a lot too.

you'd had another total lapse of judgement, surprise surprise, having been swayed by the inarguably nice night with matt and his stupid, pretty face into becoming fuck buddies. perhaps not your finest moment, but definitely your most pleasurable. he makes you feel good, so, so good. takes away your stress from all your parents expectations, makes you feel taken care of. you two aren't exactly friends with benefits, more like.. people who know eachother, like acquaintances with benefits. but fuck buddies suits you two better.

it'd started off as getting together once, meeting at another party and giving into the raw attraction between you two. he'd had you beneath him, your legs wrapped tight around his hips as he bucked up into you with a brutal pace. his hands grasped at the bed around your head, a bed in which he had no idea whose it was. hey, he needed you, real bad. the logistics of everything hadn't crossed his mind once. "need you," you'd whined, voice breaking a little with how loudly you'd been crying out his name.

"you're gettin' me, baby," he grunted, grasping at the bed a little tighter as you clenched around him, practically trapping him there. his eyes lift up to yours, a flush covering his face at how damn good you feel. "what d'you want?" he growled, all breathless and heavy, like even speaking took a lot out of him. "need you, ah—after this, too," you couldn't have him just once, that wouldn't be fair. he felt too fucking perfect to only have once.

matt laughs quietly, realising you're on the verge of just babbling from how deep he's fucking you. "shh, sh, i got you," he murmured, lowering his head down to yours to press his lips down against yours to ensure you wouldn't keep talking. between kisses, he whispers, "gonna have me whenever you want, baby. whenever you want." that had you practically squirting, thighs trembling as the movements of his hips stuttered.

he kept up his promise, and whenever you wanted him, you got him. matt didn't want to seem desperate, but he was starting to like you, a lot. those snarky comments and bitchy glares started turning into fond looks and quiet compliments. he wasn't soft on you, he really didn't want to be—but there he was, letting you practically walk all over him in those expensive heels. it wasn't until a certain moment where you realised you felt the same as he did. he fell first, but god damn it, did you fall harder.

matt's buried so deep inside you, all you can think about, all you want to think about is him. he's overwhelming in the best way, having told you to keep your eyes on his or else he wouldn't give you what you wanted. "eyes on me, baby, wanna see those pretty eyes," he murmured, your legs hiked up onto his shoulders as opposed to his hips this time. you two had been in many different positions with eachother, sure, but this? how close he is? how he's balls deep inside your cunt? can't think straight.

you lift your eyes to his, swallowing thickly as another whine rips from your throat. he coos softly, "there you are. there's my girl," his girl? you're his girl? he's being so soft, and loving, nothing like he's been before or you've ever had before. it's making you feel some kind of way and it feels wrong, but so right at the same time. "makin' such pretty sounds, lookin' so lovely like this.. you take my dick so well."

"matt—" you gasp softly, trying to bring yourself as close as possible with a swivel of your hips forward. matt groans, his head falling down into the crook of your neck as he slides his hands down to grasp at your thighs. just the feel of the callouses on his hands from various skating accidents has you squealing and whining beneath him. "so good, shit, oh, oh—right there, riiight there.."

"right there? right there?" matt drives himself deeper within you, whining into your skin. his nose brushes against your soft skin, grunting under his breath with each thrust forward of his hips. "i've got you, c'mon, cum 'round my cock for me, let it go, there she is, that's it.." he's thrusting up into you through your orgasm, holding you as close as possible, and even with the pleasure clouding your brain, you're realising that you're most definitely in love.

maybe it's the slow drag of his cock against your walls, as he takes a slower, steadier approach to pounding you into the bed—maybe it's his sweet words, you don't know, but all of it coming together? you're in love.

ִ ֹ ★ @mattybsgroupie, @dayzeandhaze, @mattslolita, @stellasturns, @stevelacylovebot, @55sturn, @jetaimevous, @phone4pills, @aesthetixhoe, @venusiers, @chrissdollie, @stvrnmc, @sarosfilms, @beetlejenna, @funkycoloured, @v3nusasagrl, @imwetforyourmom, @deansbite, @beridollie, @https--roman, @sincerebabydoll, @pillwebb, @cayleeuhithinknot, @j2ss7 ִ ꒱

[juniperdugong]

Relationship Quirks 97s ver.

Aka habits I can see the boys doing in a relationship || 95s || 96s || 97s || Maknae line ||

The8 Wears your favorite color

Now this one is truly an unconscious thing that Hao does. You mention your favorite color one day during a random conversation and he doesn't do much with it... until the color starts becoming more eye-catching.

Suddenly more and more of his wardrobe is taken over by your favorite color; Not in a way that cramps his personal style but in a way that adds to it, of course. And even when he isn't wearing clothing that's your favorite color then his nails will definitely have sort of accent in or completely be (insert fav color here).

It's funny because he vehemently refuses to believe that's what's happening. If anyone, especially you, brings up how often he wears that color then he will scoff; Something about "no one being able to shake his personal preferences" or something like that.

"Been liking purple a lot lately, huh?" "No, I haven't." "But your nails are purple, your beanie is purple, and your cardi-" "Maybe, It just fits with my current style???" *Rolls his eyes and then buys a belt he's been "eyeing for ages"... just so happens to be purple*

DK Brings you up in every conversation

This sweet summer child~! (He's older than me) You would never in the world have to be jealous when with this man. Because chances are if he's talking to someone and it looks like anything interesting is happening AT ALL he's probably talking about you. Honestly, his dedication to talking about you might make people think he's obsessed (...he is) Maybe people would be even more interested in him because of that though... Call me crazy but dedication is sexy!

Either way, you're the only person in his sight and he swears it up and down. Doesn't leave any room for doubt either! The boys and your mutual friends are constantly telling you how appalled they are at how sweetly Kyeom talks about you when you aren't there. You're at the forefront of most of his conversation when you're with him, you can't imagine it being worse when you aren't around, but apparently, you are DEAD WRONG.

Seeing a pair of shoes can turn into a rant about what pairs of shoes you like. Ice cream flavors remind him of the time that you got ice cream for him when he was feeling sad and he just has to tell the guys about it. A talk with his manager about his recent health suddenly takes a turn and now he's sobbing talking about how much you take care of him. It's all you you you~

Mingyu Has to hold your hand

So we all know that Gyu is the biggest cuddler of all time, there's no doubt that he isn't clinging to your side when you're around. But hand-holding is different, Gyu can stand to not be hugging you 24/7... as long as you're holding his hand.

Claims that it feels like he's missing a piece of himself when he lets go, and also claims that you practically disappear if you aren't holding his hand, endless sulking. (Dramatic ass) And why can I vividly see him holding YOUR hand while clinging to the members??? Like he'll be swaying your arms back and forth while LITERALLY HOLDING WONWOO BY THE WAIST & BACKHUGGING HIM!!! Then has the audacity to be offended when you let go.

Also, has to hold your hand to sleep. He would love to cuddle! And he often does!... For like 10mins before this human space-heater gets too sweaty and has to move to the opposite side of the bed. Holding your hand in his sleep is a good compromise though, of course until you're letting go to use the restroom. (Deffo the type to follow you to pee, sits on the sink too)

A/N: I ain't even gonna lie... all of these headcanons could have been turned into full fics. I went insane imagining these habits, the 97s have been killing it in terms of looks and popularity lately. On a real note though, FUCK PLEDIS! PROTECT THE BOYS! Still so fucking pissed about what they let happen to Mingyu and TWS. Calming down... Comments and Reblogs are like super fuel for my writing and are much-appreciated lovelies!

TAGLIST (open): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Hi Lovely, just dropping by to say that you can totally decline weigh ins if not extremely necessary. You're a fantastic writer, you've got excellent music taste and clearly are funny at hell. Plus you can probably lift every twat nurse who tuts and scoffs at you, they shouldn't every judge you.

If you're up for it, I'd die for some NikPrice in a proper sex shop (Not a gag/gimmick one) or maybe a lil NikPrice who want to bring in a certain delightfully sassy sergeant to their dynamic.

Head up, we are all here to support you!

😊

Thank you for this, Selkie. It was a massive boost going in. So, Nikprice in a sex shop, eh? Well, obviously I had to visit Prowler to, uh, check it still looks the same as the last time I visited. Here we go...

Nik and John visit ProwlerRED in Soho as Nik helps John take those first tentative steps in exploring his sexuality.

cw: fetishwear, inexperienced and nervous sub, teasing Nikolai.

Price stood opposite the shop and stared at the giant white paw on the black banner between the ground and first floor, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat, his beanie pulled low around his ears to disguise the hot flush colouring them a deep red.

They stood at the crossroads. Passersby dipped into the gutter to get around them on their way down Old Compton Street and Price stepped back a little further as a cyclist hopped the pavement, swerving a stationary taxi that was blocked from turning into Dean Street. Price's eyes would make it to the window eventually, but first he needed to get over the road.

"We should go in," Nik said, exhaling the last breath of cigarette smoke as he ground it out under his boot. This had been his idea. He had spotted Price eyeing up some of the leathermen at the bar the previous evening, and teased his interest out of him under the duvet of their exorbitantly expensive hotel bed. It was hard to keep secrets from Nik when his hands and mouth were on ya... Some kinda witchcraft.

Price knew what leathermen were. It was impossible not to when your old man had been both a sergeant in the armed forces and a keen biker. It was a joining of the two things together; the latent homoeroticism of a career and a hobby that had been, at the time, completely male dominated. His old man had been predictably foul in his judgements of his fellow soldiers, but Price had been fascinated. He'd avoided looking too deeply at why he found them so--

Price was... he was interested, alright? Something about the way that the leather looked on a man's body; the harnesses, the jackets, the jock straps. He didn't much care for the caps or the police shirts. If he wanted to wear a cap, he'd give in to Mac's relentless naggin' and get promoted, you know, wear a cap that came with a bloody salary increase, and Peelers weren't exactly high in his esteem.

It was the smell and the texture of the leather against sweat, the slide of it across hard and soft curves as leashes and harnesses shifted, the sound of belts snapping together, watching the dominant partner haul their willing subordinate around and the responding trust. The relief and pleasure on faces that weren't covered by masks, moans muffled by gags. That looked good. Real good.

Imagining Nik's hand wound through a--

Price swallowed.

"John?"

"Hold up, I'm gettin' there. Don't rush me." Price bristled, shoulders rising up around his ears. He didn't even need to look at Nik to know what his face was doin'; Price could feel his grin like atmospheric pressure and it rankled him. "This ain't funny, Nik."

"It is funny," Nik said, arms folded across his big chest, open palm tapping his own elbow. "This is not live fire fight or hostage situation. You need to relax."

"I'm perfectly relaxed," Price said, immediately dropping his shoulders and sniffing when Nik raised his eyebrow. He bounced on his toes and coughed, aiming for nonchalant, but knew his eyes were wider than a rabbit's gazing into oncoming headlights. "See, fine."

"It is just a shop."

"I can see that."

"The owner is half your size."

"Oh yeah? You well acquainted?"

"Fairly."

"Course y'are." Price's cheeks reddened and he scrubbed a hand through his beard. "Alright. Ground rules. Nothin' that's sharp or... Let's just stick to the harness."

Nik hummed and started crossing the road. Price tried to grab his arm to get at least some verbal agreement, but Nik had already skipped up the opposite curb and was looking through the window. Price waited for a black cab to pass and then jogged over to stand at his side. He could see himself in the reflection of the window, hunkered low. "Is that a leather pig mask?"

"Da," Nik said, examining a full body harness with a metal cock ring at the groin. Price hazarded a glance at what had Nik so interested and his heart skipped a beat, his fingers curling into fists inside his pockets . Nik tapped his elbow. "Come." Price let Nik take his elbow and drag him through the door on the corner of the building, his breath held for... fuck knows what reason.

The first thing that hit him was the smell. The same smell as the bar the evening before, except without the added layer of sweat that had made his mouth water. It was sharp, clean. Behind the mannequins in the window were two railings of leather harnesses, and along the walls were racks of leather shirts and trousers. Fairly... innocuous, really. It could have been a biker's shop if it had helmets instead of masks, and less lube on the shelves.

"Hey," called a faintly accented voice from behind the counter, Price would guess Polish but Nik would get a better read. "Let me know if you need anything." She had enough metal in her mouth that kissing her would risk a stab wound, and Price found himself counting the studs when Nik cleared his throat.

"Da, thank you, we may need help with sizing."

She shrugged. "The best thing to do is try 'em on. There's a changing room round the corner," she jutted her thumb over her shoulder, "and two downstairs with the toys and bondage. Just no underwear, yeah?" With that, she turned back to untangling the pile of leather paraphernalia and hangers on the counter.

Nik seemed distracted by something on the far wall, so Price took the opportunity to examine the shelves behind the shop assistant. Aromas. A fair number of them, in fact. Price had seen a few of the lads holding them at the bar, but googling "aroma" and "disk cleaner" had yielded completely innocuous Amazon searches.

"You will not need those, solnyshko," Nik called, so Price continued to tentatively explore, hands still stuffed deep in his pockets.

His gaze wandered to a pile of flyers at the edge of the counter. "Boot blacking," Price murmured. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Da," Nik said softly, appearing at his shoulder with two harnesses in his hand. "It is a kink, but also good for repairing tired equipment."

"Fuckin 'ell, gettin' the troopers to buff their boots proper is like pullin' teeth, and these lot do it for jollies? Is he... Is he lickin' it?"

Nik chuckled and took the flyer out of Price's hand, stroking a finger over the bristles on Price's chin before twining their fingers together. "Perhaps if you put on a jock strap and licked their boots they might be more, hmm, proactive, no?"

"I'll run it by brass," Price said with a wry smirk, letting Nik pull him down the narrow staircase to the basement level.

His eyes blew wide once they'd adjusted to the dim lighting. Now that was what he had actually expected when Nik had said "fetish shop". The walls were crammed with an assortment of delightful looking torture devices from whips to gags to masks that covered everything but the mouth. There was a rack of staggeringly big silicone cocks, and Price felt the heat creeping back up his neck again at how bloody real some of them looked. And big. So fuckin' big.

He was so out of his bloody depth here.

The display case to the right of the stairs as they reached the bottom was filled with the weirdest collection of dildos he had ever seen in his life. He stooped down, hands on his knees, and peered inside. "Fuck me, that one's thicker than my thigh. Nik, there's no... Nik, come here. There's no way that fits. What the fuck is that meant to be?" He pressed his fingertip to the glass at what looked like a tentacle with little nodules all over it.

"John, here." Nik beckoned him over and Price sidled over to stand at his side, casting one final alarmed look into the display case. On the wall, there was an array of cuffs and collars, all with slightly different fastenings, studs and coloured linings. Nik took one of Price's hands and placed it on the nearest pair of cuffs, pressing against Price's back, his chin on his shoulder, palm on his belly to keep him close. "Choose."

"I thought we said just the harness..." Price murmured, but he could barely hear the words leave his own mouth, too fixated on the feel and smell of expensive leather. His toes curled in his boots as he pressed his fingers inside the circle of a cuff, slipping out the other side to nudge one of the metal links and stroke around the smooth edge of the buckle.

These weren't the laughably flimsy handcuffs Price had used previously in his, admittedly, limited sex life. The kind where the plastic broke through the cheap fur and cut your skin if you pulled too hard. Tokenisitic in their restraint. These were sturdy, unyielding; they would be completely unbreakable, even by a body like his. The thought of Nik securing Price's wrists to the headboard, working his hands down his body, made Price's damn prick twitch.

Nik nuzzled the side of his neck, bringing him back to the present, and he picked up a solid black pair like the ones he had seen on a man last night. They had a single silver loop each and a thick buckle. The leather was stiff, clean and unblemished, and Price flexed them a little in his palms. "Uh, these." His reward was a soft kiss just beneath his ear, and Nik reached a little higher to pluck the matching collar from the top row of hooks.

"Try them on, with your shirt off," Nik said. "I will wait here. Take your time." He placed the harness in Price's hands and nudged him towards the narrow changing cubicle. Price hesitated, glancing back up at the stairs and then into the shop proper. Nik placed a palm at the small of his back and pressed his nose to the side of Price's face. "It is fine. I will not allow anyone to see."

"Right, yeah..." Price ducked beneath a silk sash hanging from the railing as Nik nudged him forward. He figured if people were down here looking for a birch to take stripes out of them, seeing some battered old soldier in a leather harness wouldn't faze them too much. And that's what he told himself as he yanked the curtain across and shucked his shirt over his head.

The harness seemed to have more buckles than entirely necessary at first inspection, and he turned it over and over in his hands, checking the model on the label to work out how it should sit. It was sturdy, with silver studs and thick metal, and he felt that same throb of arousal as he handled it.

"John, is ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine, jus'... workin' it out."

In the end, Price pulled open one of the side buckles and ducked into it. The leather was chill on his skin and his nipples pulled tight as he sat the straps just above them. Once he'd fastened the buckle back in place, he glanced into the mirror through his eyebrows, hesitant.

The yellowing bruise on his ribs from the last op was beginning to fade, the scrapes all but healed into thin pink lines, and he had the usual litany of scars he was used to seeing by now.

He looked... good.

It sat well around his shoulders, framing the furred curves of his chest by sitting just above the line of his nipples, the silver d-ring between his tits. The straps beneath his arms sat just above his obliques, following the line of muscle comfortably.

Fuck, it made him look... made him look broad, strong, with his jeans belted at his narrow hips, his operation-ready athletic physique well-complemented, and he stood up a little straighter, jutting his chin. He'd expected to feel like a dog, maybe a bit demeaned, but when he flexed into the leather, heard the stiff straps creak a bit, he felt fuckin' powerful.

Next were the cuffs. He wrapped them around each wrist, turning them around until the silver rings sat on the top and the buckles beneath. The lining was slightly padded, lending to a snug fit.

"How does it feel?" Nik asked, close to the curtain.

"Yeah, s'nice. Like, uh, it fits well."

Price grabbed the collar and then pushed the curtain aside a bit, his eyes fixed on the floor as he felt the heat creeping up his neck again. He heard Nik's breath catch and then a soft curse whispered in awestruck Russian.

"Not bad, right?" Price asked, trying for cocksure but coming out shy.

Nik said nothing. He took the collar from Price's hand and wrapped it carefully around his neck, using his forefinger to stop the leather biting as he threaded the strap through. The moment it pulled tight enough for Price to feel it, he let out a soft gasp, his hands lifting to latch onto Nik's wrist, a sudden panic beating a little harder in his chest.

"Easy, solnyshko," Nik said gently, leaning in to kiss him. Price's grip relaxed, and he drew in a shaky breath. Nik took his hands. "Here, let me show you how it would feel with your wrists secure. If you feel unsafe, you must tell me, da?"

"Is... Is anyone down here?"

"Nyet. We are alone."

"Ye-yeah, right... Yeah." Price swallowed as Nik moved his arms behind his back, lifting each wrist until he could attach the cuffs to the d-ring at the back of the harness. When Nik was done, he stepped back, his broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the shop as he appraised the man before him.

"Krasivyy..." Nik said, reaching to lift Price's chin from where it was tilted down. John kept his head up as Nik's hands roamed his body, following the line of the leather straps over his clavicles to his upper chest, leaving goosebumps of pleasure in his wake.

Price watched Nik's eyes darken with desire and felt like the hottest piece of arse this side of the Thames; he flexed cheekily into the straps and Nik's lips twitched. The control in this wasn't so clear cut, was it? Price had assumed he'd be the one under the boot, but watching Nik's reaction made it clear he had more power than he'd assumed. Nik was enraptured, his arousal clear in the heated caress of his palms and fingers.

Price wanted to lean into his hands, arch like a damn cat. His stomach pulled tight as Nik stroked just above his nipples, following the line of the harness beneath his arms and making him flex and shiver. It was too much, too sensitive, and he let out a soft, strangled noise, squirming as heat gathered in his hips. He couldn't stop Nik from touching him, couldn't push his hands away, and that made his blood run south, hot and urgent. "Mm, Nik... Please... I..."

"You are... breath taking like this," Nik said, lifting a hand to hook the collar and draw Price to him. The experience of being drawn to Nik's chest like that, having to trust those strong arms would catch him, made Price groan softly. He buried his face into Nik's neck, arching only when Nik's hands swept down his back, gently stroking the burn scars at the base before dropping lower to squeeze his arse. "If I could, I would have you here."

"Fuck," Price breathed, grinding forward to feel the hard line of Nik's cock. "Guess we're buyin' this then..."

"Da, and one or two other things."

"Nik."

"Nothing sharp. Nothing to hurt you, John. I promise."

"You could never hurt me." Price had never been so certain of anything in his life.

Nik took the back of the harness and pulled Price away from him, lifting his chin so their eyes met. "This is important. So listen," Nik said. "Sometimes hurt is not physical pain in this. It can be feeling unsafe, it can be feeling too overwhelmed. I may push too far, and you must be honest with me."

Nik looked so serious and Price could only nod, the corners of his eyes crinkling with affection. Fuck, Nik cared about him so fuckin' much and it made Price's heart feel all kinds of warm. "So, what... We, uh, we need safe words and the like?" He flashed a lopsided grin and Nik kissed him on the forehead with a low chuckle.

"Da. We will discuss. Now, get dressed. I wish to get you back to the hotel."

"Yes, sir."

"John..."

"Sorry, couldn't help it."

"If you wish to call me sir in our bedroom, then I would not be opposed."

"Bet you fuckin' wouldn't..."

"I see you are going to be, what to say... a brat." Nik swatted Price's arse before he undid the cuffs from the back of the harness and drew the curtain across.

Price almost felt sad about taking the harness off, savouring the phantom sensation of it on his skin even when he pulled his t-shirt and coat back on. He lingered in the cubicle, squeezing his prick through his jeans with a grimace, and only re-emerged once it had calmed enough to be bloody discreet.

Nik was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. He was holding a coil of rope, a leash and what looked to be an anal toy of some kind. "It is remote control," Nik said with a roguish little smirk when he saw Price looking, before jogging up the stairs.

"Bloody 'ell," Price breathed, following behind him.

Nik flashed the plastic and purchased the lot, despite Price fumbling through his coat for his wallet. "This is treat for me," Nik said when Price glared at him, plucking the opaque black bags from the counter.

"'M worried what I've unleashed here," Price replied once Nik had thanked the assistant and they were heading for the door.

"Ah, I believe it is I that have leashed you, no?"

"Ha-fucking-ha, corny bastard."

Nik grabbed John's hand and looked far too proud of himself, his smile so bright and handsome that Price's heart felt light. He didn't let go of Price's hand as they strolled back towards the station, and Price felt his heart swell as he glanced down at their intertwined fingers, his lower lip between his teeth.

Today was a day of firsts: his first visit to a bloody sex shop, and the first time in his life he had ever held a lover's hand, head up, chest out, as he walked down the street. When in London, eh?

[honey-minded-hivemind]

I noticed almost all of our feral! Readers are based on predator animals. Bats, cats, and bears (oh my), so why not a Reader who's a prey animal?

Like Goat! Reader.

They got those classic faun style bottom half with hooves, fur, and tail, rectangle pupils that are just a bit unnerving, and even little curling horns coming out of their head!

They eat like a goat, too. They got a preference for greens, grains, and goat milk based dairy, but they'll eat just about anything. This includes things that aren't food like cans, much to everyone's concern.

Their mutation is a good bit easier to hide than Kurt's without an image-inducer. Beanie for the horns, glasses, or contacts for the eyes, and big baggy pants for their legs and hooves. They went as Mr.Tummus one year for Halloween, and the English lit teacher gave them extra credit for their "exceptionally crafted literature inspired costume." (They just wore a red scarf.)

Reader ain't no slouch in the physical department just cause they are prey either. They run just as fast as the other ferals, and those horns aren't just for show! They got a headbutt that can break bones and a tackle that can knock Piotr off his feet. The school's football couch has been hounding them to join since they knocked Duncan on his back during PE back in freshman year.

Like all goats, their horns fall off in the winter and regrow in the spring. It's considered a right of passage in the mansion for someone new to freak out their first winter cause Reader came into the kitchen with blood trickling down their forehead and their horns gone. Don't worry, Hank bandages them up every year. Logan hangs up their old horns in a hallway like trophies. Visitors think he's into hunting or something, but no, he's just keeping track of his kid's growth.

Their tongue is extra long too! So sometimes they just let it flop out of the side of their mouth . The yans think this is adorable and take pictures whenever they can.

They can walk on any wall that isn't a perfect 90 degrees, which looks really weird from an outside perspective.

Their hooves and horns need a little extra care. Conditioning and polishing and cleaning. So the yans are sooo nice to help them with all that! Hope they aren't too much trouble, they would hate to be a bother.

On occasion, they bleat just like a goat. It happens mostly when they r asleep or if you startle them. Scaring them isn't recommended to hear it, however, cause their legs lock up afterwards and they fall over. Kurt has done this hundreds of times and feels awful each time.

They still got instincts like the other ferals. They'll huddle together for warmth, rub their scent in everything, and make a "nest" in their room. The more prey ones are a natural aversion to danger. If they aren't on a mission, they are running away from the scary stuff. They are on constant high alert, an ear always open for potential threats.

Obviously, their favorite game is Goat Simulator.

Haha! Goat mutant Reader would be one tough bby!

Their horns are curled and have weight to them, and they can ram someone down or stomp stomp with their hooves, they can even scale brick walls, rock walls, or any surface that isn't 90 degrees! They can eat almost anything (except Kitty's cooking, that didn't pass over well). They can charge and run fast, they can pull a lot of weight, and they're cute and awesome to boot!

They bleat in their sleep, when they're scared, and when they're happy! All of the yans want to hear it, and do everything they can to do so. If someone scares Reader at school or tries to bully them, the teens are all stepping in, especially Kurt, Scott, Todd, amd Evan, who don't like their friend being picked on for anything, and don't want them to get hurt. The teens and adults like helping Reader but their horns and polish them and keep them clean, they don't mind helping Reader with their hooves if a rock or nail gets in them, and Logan hangs their horns up and is very proud of how big they get each season.

Reader is friendly, laid-back, energetic when it comes to food and running around, and they like climbing everything. No one messes with the younger teens, or Reader runs them down. Duncan better step off, or Reader will headbutt him hard enough he sees stars! If the teens need help with cooking, Reader offers assistance. If anyone worries about their appearance, Reader will try to cheer them up.

And yes, Reader was rewarded for their Mr. Tumnus costume (which was just them in a red scarf and carrying a pan flute). No one can really top them when it comes to costumes. Except they always dress as a goat...

(They wear babbgy pants, boots, a beanie with pins or that are colorful, they like sweaters and sweatshirts, and they like wearing bracelets, especially cool or cute ones)

(Haha, @sugar-soda, I love them! They're so cute and kick*ss and awesome! If you want to come up with a predator feral Reader as well, I'm okay with that, too! But goat Reader is so awesome! Which mutation did you want to explore next? And yes, it's officially canon, thank you for suggesting this, that no matter what mutation Reader has in the au, there are several students who have crushes them, and none of the platonic yans like that at all, and neither does Reader)

[saturnzskyzz]

This is mainly a ficlet until I write more of the actual fanfic about this show.. I have so many ideas, it's insane.

Family reunion

Lee: Ben

Ler: Bumpy

Summary

Ben reunites with Bumpy. As both were excited to see each other, bumpy couldn't help her excitement. Let's say that Ben gets a tickly warm welcome.

Warning

Tickling

・divider credits・

Gray

Heartbeat

"Ah! Bumpy! I can't believe it, haha!" Ben says, excited to see his Dino friend, running around the open field not far out from Sammy's place.

Ever since their rescue from the stranded island, the gang had been off to do their own thing for a while. But since they all collectively decided to live on the island, where work was made to get the island "dinosaur free" in a safely manner, they've been collectively working on themselves, and what they were wanting to do and pursue for the rest of their lives.

But since the hunt; Ben, Darius, and soon Sammy, will have to get on the road before the "hunters" get to them.

As much as Darius and Ben were in a hurry-still hadn't told Sammy because of her cut-in small talk. They were dragged into seeing Sammy's surprise out back, near her little farm area.

And a surprise it was!

"Ah! Ahaha, Buhuhumpy! H-hohohold on now gihirl!" Ben giggled. He lightly tried to bat away Bumpy's face as she muzzled into Ben, who was currently laying on the floor due to Bumpy pushing him over in excitement.

"Awee! Look at them! I've never seen Bumpy happier until this very moment!" Sammy said, squealing in excitement. She stared at them in awe, filled with happiness that the two were finally reunited. It's been hard trying to get Bumpy all the way out to her home, but luckily she had managed.

"Wow! H-how did you do it, Sammy?! This is amazing!" Darius said, looking at her with a shocked expression.

"Oh, it was nothin'! As long as our dear friend is happy, there ain't no story to tell." Sammy said, smiling her worries away.

Bumpy made a sound of happiness, as she dug more into Ben's neck and chest, still trying to get the excitement wiggles out of herself.

"Ehehehaha! Ihihi'm hahahappy to sehehee you tohoo, buhumper cahar!" Ben gave Bumpy some loving pets to the head, as he tried to signal Bumpy to let up on the nuzzling because of how ticklish it was for him.

"Ohohokay girl! Thahat's ehenough- plehehease!" Ben tried to wiggle out of her grasp, momentarily causing his beanie to slip off his head-but it seemed that she wasn't letting up anytime soon. She knew that Ben was happy in this moment, and if her nuzzling is signaling her any sight of happiness from Ben, then she continued.

When Ben figured out that Bumpy wasn't letting up anytime soon, he settled to just wing it out until Bumpy was satisfied.. Unfortunately he doesn't think that's going to happen anytime soon.

As for Sammy and Darius, taking in the wholesome scene, they were both astonished by how happy the two seemed to be. Almost like they haven't seen them this happy in a long time..

"Ihi don't think I've seen bumpy this happy to see Ben before.. Nor have I heard that laugh from Ben in a looong time!" Darius remarked, showing a bit of empathy. Sure, they've had their fun before, where Ben would let loose and be himself, but it wasn't the type of happiness that he's been known to see as for when Ben is around Bumpy. He's really got a soft spot for the dinosaur..

"Guhuhuys, ahaha lihihittle help,, plehehease?!" Ben asked, overwhelmed of the situation now. He kicked his legs to accidentally show how much the nuzzling has gotten to him, as he still tried to get Bumpy to stop with the affectionate Nuzzling as he seemed that laying limp wasn't actually going to do anything.

"Ohokay! Okay! C'mon Darius, let's help the poor soul out of his ticklish agony." Sammy said, jogging up to Ben and Bumpy.

"Ohon it!" Darius halfly shouted out, now jogging up to them as well.

. . .

If you want to be tagged in any chaos theory fics, let me know! :]

[sw33tsnow]

Attitude

Captain John Price x F!Reader

Summary: Military leave in England would be littered with thick confidential stamps folders and dozens of Base's phonecalls, John suppose, but you proved him wrong (18+)

Content: annual military leave, curvy&athletic!female!reader, deep voice!f!reader, (little) angst, childhood trauma, smut, smoking, fluff, age gap, boobs sucking, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, fingering, hickeys, spanking, cowgirl, handjob, cum eating

Word Count:  5k3

#: I'll apologize in advance cus English is not my first language (some grammar mistakes might appear); f!reader is NOT A BRAT; NOT FOR MINORS

December 1st, snow has already falling and the cold breeze was blowing in waves. Such a lovely time to visit and admire the "mysterious beauty" of Britain, said the radio, but not so ideal for someone who just got deployed to Russia.

John's building located in the suburbs, he enjoyed the spacious and airy atmosphere it carried. Perhaps that explains why it's quite lonely and separated here, not so many civilians chose to pass by this area. Parked the truck in the basement, the cold air made John snort in discomfort, had to pulled down that dark blue beanie to cover his red ears when he got out of the car. Swiftly stepped to the back seat where several stacks of papers and classified documents were stuffed in, he gave them an irritated look. Of course, John has the permission to go home empty-handed to savor these two "break months'' peacefully, but in the end, he has nothing to do. Kyle and Johnny were both home for holiday with their families, and Simon disappeared from sight 'cause Laswell needed a helping hand. No magic could make these files disappear if John left them at the base so taking them home is not a bad idea after all.

Struggling to carry the pile of papers out of the car, they're not heavy but quite bulky for one person to carry. If it ain't for the fact that the internet in this area is such crap, John would have gone to bed after a glass of Whiskey instead of standing here and thinking about how to get these shitty documents to his apartment.

"You need help with that?" A deep but hoarse female voice, probably due to the cold, caught John's attention. You stood there in an oversized hoodie and a pair of shaggy black leather pants, you wore white sneakers, not the pair that some brats normally bragged about and a gym bag was hanging on your shoulder. Your thick hair cut into a long pixie style but still looked silky.

"Not questioning your strength, 's just looks quite nasty over there"

"I mean...if ya don't mind" he replied in a grateful tone before you gave him a sweet smile and walked over to his truck. John almost mistaken you for a male because of your broad shoulders if he hadn't noticed your long lashes and those plump, pink lips.

You squatted down and gently lifted a cardboard box with folders of documents and papers piled on top, then walked to the door leading to the building's elevators.

Pushed and held the door with your back, "After you" you peeled back to John.

All your movements were resourceful and agile, watching you carried his things without difficulty made John quite impressed. It's not that you're strong because there are female soldiers in the military, but it's your gestures were so… gallant, they're not forced like girls tried to impress the men but completely natural like that's your character.

John hummed as a thanks and stepped inside. You both reached the top floor and you followed John to the end of the hallway, bet that's his apartment.

You put the stack of papers down and looked up at John, "Thank you, luv" he said with a hidden smile behind his mustache and the pet name he gave you undoubtedly made your thighs squished together.

You saw the wrinkles formed in his eye sockets as he squinted from smiling. You love his smile. In the basement, you didn't pay any mind and just simply asked if John wanted some help, just like when you carried groceries bags for mothers or helped the old neighbors on the same floor walk to their house, it was like a habit. But when John turned to look at you, couldn't lie, he looked handsome. Toned muscles back hidden under a leather jacket, handsome face with neatly trimmed beard and those navy blue pupils were what attracted you the most. He's certainly older than you, which makes him even more attractive.

"That's very kind of ya t' help" he added, oh, his deep voice and the accent were like music flowing into your ears. When John slightly cocked his head down, you noticed your height only reached his shoulders, despite you're an athlete.

"No big deal, sir, have a nice day" you gave him a small smile and turned around to go back to the elevator. Your eyes accidentally glanced at the random envelope with a single line 'To: Cpt. John Price'. John Price, what a fitting name, you think, but we probably won't meet again

"Wait, you haven't told me ya name?" Turned back, you kept silent before responded to those beautiful blue eyes with a wide toothy smile, making John dumbfounded.

As if the whole hallway lit up with your smile, " 's really nice to know you, Captain."

Fucking hell, the wind came from the open window didn't help John cooled down at all when your deep voice called his sign with that teasing tone. He stuttered, watching your disappearing figure as the elevator door closed without saying anything else. His cheeks turned red by the thought that it wasn't even a flirt but somehow he just so addicted to your voice, to that angelic smile. John didn't see many female colleagues on his HQ and not to mention plenty of deployments, his paperwork already kept him from visiting the pub - his one and only favourite thing but you might've just change his mind.

When the elevator stopped at the lobby floor, few residents got into the elevator with you and John. He noticed that you ain't a talkative one, always politely greeted everyone with a bow and a slight smile. You were also careful, too careful not to invade others' personal space. Polite and a little shy?, John guessed

Shaking his head and laughing at himself, John inserted the key into the lock and opened the door, using his foot to push one box in front of the door to keep it from closing and then carried the other inside. The annoying 'beep beep' sound from his watch made him wince, 2200, these can wait 'til tomorrow, he told himself, kicked off his boots and walked straight into the bedroom.

John regretted because the Whiskey he drank didn't do a damn thing but keep him up all night. Gave up and got out of bed, he tried to find something to do and as if completing the paperwork was a smart option.

0600, winter made it impossible to tell if the pitch black sky outside was early morning or midnight. Unable to concentrate, he decided to snack on something before went for a run because he knew how bad the consequences of skipping meals would be.

The road was slippery because of heavy snowfall yesterday. Luckily, John's eyes had adjusted to the darkness, couldn't relied on the useless dim light of the lampposts. It's now quite far from the building and almost into the city center, he ran through a park before stopping by the sound of a group chatting coming out of the opposite tower. It's you, still with a bright smile on your lips and that polite gesture, holding the door for those accompanying you. Both the male and the female, all looked about your same age and all had hair slightly wet. Perhaps only been wiped lightly, followed by two elders. Everyone laughed and talked cheerishly before waving their hands and splitting in different directions, you did the same, going towards the city center.

Honestly, John felt like a stalker following you like this. Years of military service had honed his tracking skills, as ridiculous as it sounded.

You stopped by a minimarket to pick up ingredients for your diet, meals are as important as the muscle exercises, and your cooking skills are very good too. Thanks to your grandmother for teaching you how to cook in such young age. Checking the list on your phone again, you pushed the cart to the checkout counter, saying goodbye to the friendly cashier and began to struggle with the messy bags.

"Need help with tha, luv?" John didn't hesitate to run to you and reached his hands out, repeated exactly what you asked him a few past hours ago.

You looked surprised but immediately answered him with a low giggle, John also grinned at you. For fuck sake, you wanted to punch yourself so bad. Why? Look at you, wearing a turtleneck and dusty jeans, no lipstick on and hair looked like a damped bird's nest. You're a grown woman, makeup and tight dresses are necessary but you don't take them too seriously. Private gym, swimming pool and your apartment are your daily destinations. Only traveled when your club accepted friendly matches with other clubs and your apartment will be replaced by the hotel you booked.

Waking up at the time when the whole city was still sleeping, the cashier and your team ain't no strangers to you, dressing up only took you away from your precious sleep. Minimalism - that's what you are, except for special occasions or nights out with your girls.

BUT right now, you extremely regret your choice.

Raised your free hand up to brush a hair strand out of sight, you walked up to John and motioned for him to walk with you.

On the way back to the building, the two of you talked more. John learned that you're a swimmer and the people from the tower were your coaches and teammates. Also explained why your body wouldn't be as slim as other girls, but it suited you.

You speak very little, each sentence was brief and straight to the point but you managed to keep the conversation didn't become awkward. And maybe that's made you a very good listener, always looking in his eyes and nodding to show him that you did pay attention and wanted him to continue. You reminded him of Simon but more mellow in your own way.

"You've got something needed answers?" You saw the timidness in John's glance, "Wouldn't ask if I felt uncomfortable, John" gesturing to him, urging him to speak.

"'s nothing, truly..… jus' notice you're truly courteous to others, can guarantee muppets your age don't behave like tha, 'specially towards women" John tried to clarify, not want you to misunderstand.

You stared at him for a moment, quite impressed with his observance. As a Task Force captain in the military, the way his body built and his look when talking to you were enough to understand.

"Wow Cap, you're really interesting" you teased him with a toothy smile.

"Childhood" you stopped, "And my mother has a very practical way to educate us, sometime it wouldn't bother me if anyone said I'm decrepit before my age" a small chuckle left your lips.

John's glance never left the side of your face, you two had more in common than he thought. Neither he nor you overshared your personal details but John could still guess a few things from your words. Us, you have siblings, childhood and mother, you don't mention 'father'.

“I can take it from here”

You broke the silence as you two reached the building. Carefully take the bags from John's hand, your cold fingers grazed the back of his warm one. You shivered and goosebumps rose as you felt an electric current run down your spine. Bite your inner cheek, it's shameless to admit by the thought of your body turning needy for his warmth. You wanted to hold those large hands and place them on your neck, your abdomen, your breasts and thighs. You want to feel his warm body heat against yours, for the first time you didn't hate your innate cold body temperature.

Quickly turned away without showing any suspicious expression, you only looked up when John blocked the entrance. He wouldn't let you slipped away easily like last time, most stupid mistake he've ever made.

"Mind if I want a repay?" John put his hands in his pockets and lowered his face at the same leveled of yours.

"My messy apartment ain't inviting for breakfast now, sir" your husky voice finished the sentence as softly as a whisper. You didn't step back, simply answered him with an honest voice, you're not afraid of eye contact either.

"Tell me your name, luvie"

That's not a demand. Silence, you blinked in confusion. This man, you thought, turned away and let out a laugh. You whipped back to face him with a defeated expression, shaking your head while telling him your name.

John repeated your name with an amused tone and it sounded so alluring by the way he said it. You both were engulfed in each other's eyes, neither wanted to break away from this moment. But before you could not pull yourself together and melt in front of him, you said your goodbye and slipped aside to enter the building. He did not stop you this time, just eyeing at the way your fluffy ass checks and thighs gently jiggled by each steps with a lustful gaze.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_

John's two months on leave 've been much more lively thanks to you. Went out for a run every morning so he could pick you up from the gym, visiting your place when you invited him for a meal and of course, John also brought his booze as a thank you gift. The two of you opened up more to each other. Only then did John know that you were an extremely modest person and didn't like showing your emotions in front of people, it makes you felt like you're vulnerable. Gave him butterflies knowing he holds a special place to you because you felt safe sharing with him.

Likewise, your lonely days have ended ever since John appeared in your life, eating meals twice a week at your apartment has become casual to both of you. You started choosing cute dresses instead of sweats as usual, and always wear light lipstick to look more beautiful every time you’re with him. You also dug deeper about your family to John, that you did not experience fatherhood from a very young age and your mother is a strong woman. Making you, a much more independent and understanding big sister and daughter for your family. Sometime you joked with a higher pitch alcohol voice that every time you go to a pub, ladies are more attracted to you because the men around are such punks compared to you.

One more thing John discovered as you and him got closer was that he was at least 10 years older than you. Not that John couldn't tell your age, just sometimes the two of you were so immersed, which made him forget how young you were.

This night, the two of you were on the rooftop smoking together. John has a cigar and you smoke 'a bland cigarette', you could only laugh out loud every time he mocked with a grunt when you pulled the pack out of your pants' pocket. You both quietly enjoyed as the time slowly passed with each other.

"I've never tried cigars, dunno what they taste like" you gave him a playful glance

"Wanna try?"

John cocked his head at the cigar and held it towards you, you grabbed his wrist and brought it to your mouth to take a drag. You peaked at John, your eyes shot out a mischievous glint and you deliberately sunk your cheeks as you puffed on the burning cigar. The small flame glowed, making both of you feel an indescribable itch under your skin.

"Tastes milder than I thought" you answered John as you slowly exhaled smoke.

He looked at you silently, of course, John knew you're craving for John as much as he did but fuck, was this a wise decision? You're still young, still have a bright future waiting for you, you can't stick with an old man with a 'dirty' background and the dangerous work he's doing.

"John, I wanna ask you out for a date" you walked up to John's face and asked him directly, he'd felt the insecurity in your words. Your voice was a bit shaky and with that low tone, you sounded like a small animal that's scared or whining because it's wounded. Yes, John wanted to scream like that, he wanted to nip your skin and bite your juicy lower lip so bad but he just couldn't. He wouldn't

" 'm sorry sweet thing, this's not a smart choice"

Your lips thinned to a line, your eyes still glued to his beautiful blue orbs as if trying to find any glint might betray his words. None, nothing at all. You retreated from his private space and a small smile made it way to your sad face. Without a single tear, John knew your chest was tightening and you felt your nose sting but your pride wouldn't let you fall. You ain't an arrogant girl but you were confident in your position, and John understood. His eyes began to show contrasted signs, you understand that he turned you down not because he didn't feel the same to you. But still, you also didn't want to know the reason, you don't want to hear anything that might hurt you more now.

"The leave'll end tomorrow, right? Stay safe, Captain," you said your last sentences, sniffing and dropping the lit cigarette on the ground. You extinguished by stepping on it before swiftly passed him and disappeared through the rooftop door. You're always like this, running away when you're in your miserable stage. John didn't have the courage to follow you and made things right because he wasn't even sure what he wanted.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Nearly a month later that night, John returned to his apartment. Now that the season changes between spring and summer, the pouring rain could not be avoided. John parked his truck in the same place and went straight up to his apartment to get some sleep. When the helo landed on the tarmac, John sped up the briefing and dismissed the team as soon as possible so he could return to this suburban building. Yes, he could rest in his barrack on the Base, but he knew the reason that encouraged him to drive such a long road.

Waking up when the chatter on the TV disappeared, John reached up to the night stand to turn on his reading lamp, multiple clicking sounds hurted his ears but no light appeared. John grumbled as he got up and walked out to the living room. Through his apartment's balcony, John guessed that the area had lost power because of the heavy rain outside. Sitting down on the couches, the drowsiness has now disappeared, replaced in his mind by your images. Your smile, your voice, your eyes, everything about you is just so beautiful, and he missed you so so much. 

After showering, John changed into a compression shirt and put on a new pair of cargo pants , 'cause he knew you'd rather see him in uniform. Putting on his boots, John took your favorite cake that he bought before driving back to his apartment and headed down to your place.

John stood in front of your door, he felt nauseous, he didn't know how you'd react when you saw him. Ringing the doorbell, it took a while to hear your "Coming" along with the sound of footsteps getting closer to the door. The door opened, and you stood there with sleepy eyes and an adorable bedhead, you were wearing a tank top and loose pants.

"Welcome back" your eyes closed as you spoke up with a wide smile and a sleepy voice, John didn't need to admit that you sounded seductive because the bulge in his crotch has proof enough.

"I bought your fav, sweetheart" John held up the cake box and you looked at it for a moment then stood aside to let him in.

When you looked in his direction, even though the smile was still on your lips, your eyes looked distant, which made John feel more than horrible. You chose him to be your safe place but then he didn't know better than to ruin everything, now you treat him like you're just socializing with an outsider.

The bigger flops which you bought only for him now replaced his boots as he followed you into the living room. Sat down on the couches as you motioned him to, you turned to the kitchen to make some tea. John swore he saw your boobs' side and your ribs, your shoulder blades, and your skin was showing because you're not wearing a bra.

Returning with the tea tray and the zipper-hoodie covering your body, you placed the tray on the table and sat down on the couches which were neither far nor near John. A long silence formed and you had no intention of breaking it, honestly, you didn't know what to react or say.

The night you were rejected, you didn't cry but every single thing inside you was broken into pieces. You only had two exes and that was the result of two failed swimming championships. The pressure and strict diet made your nerves tense so sexual release is normal, for you. When you met John, shits changed, you weren't trying to find someone to take home on the weekend night anymore, head over heels just by the sight of him.

Your family lives far away from you, so everytime something positive changes, your friends and teammates are normally the first to notice.

Everything was great until that night, you wanted to hide but now John sat here, in your apartment, so conflicted.

"Listen luv, 'm sorry for hurting you" John waited for you to say something but you just sat still and stared at the mug in your hands, "I…'m not sure…I thought that it'd be better if someone your own age, not an old bastard like me, to court you out."

You snapped your eyes to John, which shut him up immediately. Cold and aggressive, a foolish accusation, as if they were trying to say. Placed the mug on the table, you stood up and walked in front of John. He looked up at you as you piled down your head to do the same. The room instantly froze as you two stared at each other, the Captain of an excellent Task Force looked so weak and useless under your daggers gaze. How submissive.

"You mean I should date a bunch of punks with towering egos and only use women as tools to satisfy their dicks, yeah?" you asked John in a low, emotionless voice. Just like everytime, your eyes never left his.

John's mouth was dry and he could barely swallow, his hands gripped his knees so tight that all knuckles turned white. You spread your legs, grabbed his wrists and placed his hands on your ass. Still maintaining that scary look, you could see that his cock might tear his pants apart from the eagerness.

"Or you think I'm not enough to find an older, more mature man for myself?" you raised an eyebrow and slowly sat down on John's thick thighs.

"Fuckin' 'ell, luv" John exhaled shakily and looked down to his pants, in a blink of an eye, you grabbed his chin and brought his gaze back to you.

"Avoid my eyes? Aren't I pitiful enough, John?" You frowned and brought your face closer to John. You could hear every pulse on his body beating loudly at this close distance.

His muscles tensed at your glassy-eyes look, he moved his hands away from your lower body. John wanted to cup your cheeks, he wanted to hold you close, buried your face into his chest as he comforted you until you were satisfied.

Not that easy.

You let go of his chin and caught his wrists with both of your hands. You folded and held them behind John's head, causing him to sink deeper and deeper into the couches beneath him. John was surprised by your actions, he almost forgot that you weren't fragile at all. Your faces were now just inches apart and he could feel every breath of yours against his lips.

"I don't remember giving you permission to move yet" and your grip tightened, his beautiful blue orbs pierced to your gaze in defeat.

You smirked and licked his lips, "Give me your tongue" you commanded.

A soldier like John didn't need to hear orders twice and immediately smashed his lips to yours hungrily. Tongues entwined, teeth clashing and he greedily bit your lower lip as if a predator had finally caught its prey. You let John go and moved to the hem of his shirt and peeled it over his head, your lips nibbling the skin of his neck as your hands roaming all over his torso. Hairy chest, broad shoulder blades, and bulky arms, your nose filled with the smell of burnt cigars and faded men's cologne. Milky scars made you even more infatuated with John, it was hard to believe the man in front of you was single. And John didn't move one bit. His eyes shut tight and his head tilted back, John's arms stayed put on his side as he enjoyed the tingling sensation of your soft lips and hands gliding over his skin. Leaving a few dark hickeys on that neck and manly chest, your hands went down to the bulge in John's crotch and began to knead gently, his cock twitching in your grip as you freed it from those tight pants.

"Fuck…please" John's head jerked back as your cool hand slid in and grasped his burning cock. His pupils flicking back and forth between the area between the two of you and your darken eyes.

"Speak up John, I can't read minds" stuck out your tongue and drooled on his cock. His precum and your drool created a mess down there, making the sticky sound even more lewd. What a tease, John thought, but it doesn't matter, he'd do whatever you want just for your forgiveness, not wanting to see your pain expression ever again.

"Please…luvie…please stroke it, please, I…need ya" John flustered as he saw your nipples harden at his pleas, his cock twitched in excitement at the mesmerized view.

You've never seen any cocks like his so far. But does it matter?, the man, no, your man is sitting right here, under your control, and desperately begging for your touch. You started to stroke him at a slow pace and gradually increased the speed with both hands, no exaggeration, John's length needed both of your hands to be considered enough. His breathing became more rapid and you knew he's close. Leaning forward and John doesn't hesitate to return your kindness, a low moan escaped his throat as he released onto your abdomen, his seed thick and hot made you horny like a bitch on heat. Your fingers delicately scraped the cum he had shot onto your stomach and brought it to your mouth, licking and sucking your fingers in the dirtiest way together with his taste.

"Can you take your shirt off for me, please" John gasped, "I wanna see those pretty tits"

You did as he said, your breasts bouncing as you took your shirt off. Lustful eyes staring at your nipples and John raised his calloused hands to held them. He fold one while the other was taken care of by his mouth, the man sucked and gently nipped your sensitive nipple, making you moan in pleasure.

"Y'know, I've dreamed about sucking these gorgeous tits for too long, darlin'" John gave you a devil grin before pinning you down on the sofa. You immediately covered your stretch marks on your lower belly plus your burning face but John smacked your ass check as a warning

"Oi, tryin' to enjoy my meal hear, eh?" John chuckled deeply as he clicked his tounge. You wanted to cry out so bad, you've never revel your body so bare like this to no one, ever. But John did not agree with such nonsense. He shut your stupid mind down by worshiping every inch of your body, his lips left marks on your plush stomach and hips. Seemed like you hadn't been to the gym lately, he noticed you looked softer compared to the last time he saw you. Moving down, John grabbed both your pants and panties, pulled them off and threw them in a random corner of the room. The man used one of his knees to shove your legs apart, revealing your pooling hot sex to his hungry eyes.

"Already so wet for me, eh?" John whispered as he placed loving kisses on your meaty inner thighs, the foreign sensation of his beard brushing against your sensitive skin sending pleasure down to your cunt, making your walls clenched eagerly. "Bet those pricks have never eaten you out, eh? Such idiots refuse a sweet thing like ya."

John buried his face between your legs, gently ran his tongue over your entrance and sensitive clit. Your body jolted every time he sucked or flicked his tongue against your clit, his two thick digits easily slid inside your cunt and you let out a loud moan at the sudden feeling of warmth inside you. Lightly grabbed John's hair as he held your thighs by his other arm and shoulder to keep them from closing, "That's it, sweetheart, use me like all you've ever wanted to" John mumbled, his tounge slid inside you causing his nose to rub against your sensitive clit. You sobbed in pleasure, your back arching to press your damped sex into John's mouth.

“Fuck….'m cumming, John” you whined, “Please…” and John quickened his pace, “C'mon, cum in my mouth, jus' like tha....Bloody 'ell, yeah, ride my tongue, c'mon luv, cum for me” he moaned and you felt the tight knot in your lower abdomen. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the orgasm hit you and John didn't pull back when you came, his trimmed beard soaked from your slick and you blushed from that sight.

Leveled off your elbows to help yourself up, you wrapped one arm around the back of John's neck and pulled him into a deep kiss. It's tender, full of love, care and pure longing. Snaked his arms and held your back, he picked you up effortlessly and situated you hovering over his cock. You grabbed John's shoulder with one hand, the other held his cock directed to your entrance then slowly sat down. You both hissed when the tip of his cock slid inside, he's so big, too big, you felt like he could split you in half.

"You broken?" John glance filled with concern when your face frowns, you're so tight, if he couldn't get you to loosen up he might be squished to death. You let out a breathy laugh "I'd love a hand, Captain, if you don't mind", before trying to adjust to his size.

"Attagirl" John was amused as you finally took all of him, the feeling of your soft walls clenched around his shaft made him harder. Flexibility is also one of any athletes' standards, what a good fuckin' girl, John thought.

You began to move your hips up and down, nails leaving long scratches on John's muscular torso as your breasts pressed against his with each of your movements. The lustful noises from where you two attached and the way John held your waist and bit your collarbone made the pleasure inside you boil over and over again. The man knows that you wouldn't stop him from marking on your body even though your club would definitely buzz around because of these obvious love bites.

"You're taking me so gud, luv, this pussy's made for me, eh?"

You moaned as his tip violantly abused your cervix, too fucked out to give him a proper answer. John growled, his fingers gripping your waist to press your body down onto his cock.

"John, 'm close, cum with me…please cum with me" you pressed your face into the crook of his neck and mumbled. You pinched your red nipple and tortured your puffy clit, tears falling from your eyes in pleasure and overstimulation. Silent scream escaped you as just after a few more thrusts, John shot his warm seed inside you.

It took some shallow breaths, your sweaty frames unable to separate from each other, apparently from the lovemaking afterglow. John cupped your cheeks and pulled you back to face him, "I know ya need to be wooed 'fore allowing anybody to do this but…" you patiently waited for John to continue. "Ya free this Sunday, luvie?"

Your eyes sparked up and you gave him a soft giggle for his endearing self, John still waiting for your approval with amusement in his glance.

"Is Chinatown alright, Captain?" you asked playfully with a hoarse voice and the older man replied with obvious pleased chuckle, "Yes, ma'am".

[skunkox]

Canon for my redacted listeners cause I love them

Part 1

🫘 🌭 🫘 🌭 🫘 🌭 🫘 🌭

Baaabe, Angel, and Darlin' all have southern familial roots. This is evenident mostly in their cooking.

Large family meals are what they are accustomed to. I'm talking making eggs with bacon grease. Collardgreens or spaghetti in that giant ass pot. Dipping your rolls in tea. (Or that one punch that everyone loves that changes depending on who's house you visited.) Poundcake if the adults knew the kids weren't running around the house.

But today in particular, we're talking about beans and weenies. Or Beanie Weenies as I'm told everyone else calls it. These mfs make it differently.

Angel likes to make them hella sweet. Cinnomin and sugar all the way. Prefer it over stew. They like to put it on a slice of bread and eat it that way. Angel is a bread head. Don't come for them. David doesn't eat it but knows it makes them happy to eat it. He's tried making it for them a couple times to cheer them up.As much as they appreciate it, he's caught them adding more sugar to their bowl.

Baaabe likes it with a lil kick to it and will use spicy sauages instead of hotdogs. Their dad used to make it that way. He's still alive and visits, but Baaabe gets homesick sometimes and misses their family. Definitely a comfort meal. Ash, at least enjoys it. Has Baaabe ever made it too spicy for him? Yes. Did he happily eat it with a runny nose? Also, yes.

Darlin' likes to make it with beef. Instead of hotdogs, they like it with polish dogs. They also seem to never use just one type of bean. Always has to be a mix of pork and beans and baked beans. That's just how they roll.

Sam also makes it. He prefers it on a bed of rice and uses honey as a sweetener.

The issue is that none of these fuckers enjoys making it in small batches. It doesn't feel right if they're not pulling out the giant pot. They could eat it for days and not get tired of it, their mates on the other hand? Not so much. It especially is an issue when they live in 2 person households.

It was brought up during a conversation about their parents' cooking and struggle meals. It was decided that they would divide up that batches whenever someone has made it and do either pick ups or deliveries. It mostly happened during pack meetings, though. Milo and Sweetheart eventually jump on the wagon.

They do this in regards to other things, but that's a post for another day. Ya'll ain't ready for these bitches neither am I.

We got a Georgian, Texan, and Floridian in the same room. A louisian if you include Sam. Have fun guessing who's who.

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 27

Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note.

Wow, you guys. I got carried away with this one. It's a biggun!!

Kick.

The soccer ball rebounds off the tyre.

Kick.

I pretend it's a walker head.

We haven't seen one of the dead in weeks, but I know they're out there.

Kick.

Buried in the snow.

Kick.

Just like everything else.

KICK.

It shoots off into the car yard.

I watch it bounce down the aisle of rotted vehicles, bumping up against the chain-link fence. A sigh escapes my chapped lips and blows away in the wind. For what must be the tenth time today, I pull my scarf up and trudge over to the ball.

Aside from day dreaming, this is about the only thing I can entertain myself with nowadays. I can't play so well without a partner, but the afternoons slog on otherwise. It was a couple weeks ago that people stopped wantin' to talk, or tell a story, or try their hand at makin' a joke, a couple weeks before those ones that Rick stopped talkin' altogether. I just don't think any of us have the energy. The only thing we can waste it on is breathing in and out and lighting the campfire every morning. Some days, like today, I even waste it on the ball.

Besides, we don't got anything interesting to say. There's only so many times you can comment on the weather.

Crunch, crunch, crunch, go my boots in the packed snow.

Thinking back on it, the last time I heard Rick say anything that weren't a barked order was the night we slept in an abandoned house. It was the first time since the farm fell that Dad had come back without any game on his shoulder. Carl had tried eatin' an old can of dog food for dinner. I still remember the way the brown meat exploded against the floor when Rick threw it, and we were scared then, too.

So, we went hungry — And almost every night since then, we've gone hungry.

I wonder if Dad's gonna try go huntin' again today, but I doubt it. Ain't worth it, no more.

It'll be a handful of burnt mushrooms for dinner again, tonight.

I bend and pick up the ball, dusting off the snow.

Some months ago, Rick told me that if he had to hear the word mushroom one more time, he'd go crazy. I almost smile to myself at the memory, the day we shared fruit and worked on the fence. If only he knew he'd be eating them every day; that he'd go crazy, anyway.

It was also the day we lost everything, is the souring thought that comes after, just like it always does.

Movement.

I look up, peering through the hexagonal webbing of the fence, out onto the street.

There it is. A white blob with a black marking.

Well, a dog.

A dog sniffs around one of the cars. I ain't seen a dog since before. I realize that for some reason I'd thought they'd all disappeared, and maybe they have, but not this one. He's a stubby little feller. Barely tall enough to see over the walls of snow, but he manages. His pink nose traces down the tyre, taking him underneath the rusted shell. I watch him cram himself through the gap with little effort.

My empty stomach rumbles to me that I should shoot it from here and we can roast it over a fire.

Is it okay to eat the thing that eats the dog food? Is is different from a squirrel?

When he wriggles back out, a dead mouse hangs from his teeth.

Oh. He caught somethin'.

Outta the corner of my eye, Dad approaches me, a sore frown below the brim of his beanie.

He makes a pincer gesture with both hands, shaking them slightly. 'What are you doing?'

I slap my thigh a few times, the sign for, 'Dog.'

When I point, he turns to look.

The dog clumsily gnaws at the skin holding the mouse meat together, letting the head plop onto the ground.

Dad tenses slightly, glancing out at the empty street; the trees beyond it. He thinks the dog might not be alone. Squirrels, possums. They don't got owners. They're too wild and nasty. But dogs do. We wait for a moment for someone to appear, but nobody does.

We're both thinking the same thing, but I'on think Dad will say it before I do.

'We should eat him,' I sign; the smart thing to do. We should eat him. But, 'I don't want to.'

He pauses. He don't want to, neither.

People are predictable like this. The world has up and ended, but we still pray before we eat, we remember our birthdays for no good reason, and we refuse to eat pets. All the bolts in Dad's bow and all the bullets in my pistol are stayin' right where they is.

Dad moves past me, undoing the gate latch and pilling it open, mutely snapping his fingers.

The dog's head snaps up.

Fresh blood paints its lopsided, gaping grin, dripping small jewels into the snow.

It considers the both of us, unsure if it wants to abandon its dinner. His head is droopy and egg shaped, undeniably ugly but in an adorable way, with two black dots for eyes and a chest like a body builder. Bull Terriers, I'm sure they're called. Rodent killers.

Stepping over the little pile of organs, the dog makes up its mind and trots over to us.

Dad kinda flinches when it places its nose in his outstretched hand, relaxing, letting it nuzzle at him.

Luckily, he ain't a human killer.

'It's okay,' He's concluded, guiding the dog inside and latching the gate closed.

I drop to my knees, giggling softly as I cradle the dog's big face, scratching behind his ears. Oh, he loves it. He must'a been lonely.

I mouth up at Dad, Keep him?

Food is scarce, and Lori is sick an' pregnant, but I still hope we can keep him. I'm already preparing a list of reasons we should.

'Everyone's decision,' He signs, before nodding us back the way we came.

Standing up, I follow behind him, and the dog makes sure he don't get left behind.

The garage stands firm in the onslaught of snow. We've made it a sort of home for now, but it's far from paradise. It's old. Small. It don't keep the wind out. Beth, Maggie, T, and Glenn are huddled around the campfire in a patch of melted sleet, the four of 'em the first to notice our return, and our new friend. They perk up at the sight of the dog, before breaking out in smiles.

Kneeling next to Glenn, I help him welcome the dog with pets and cuddles.

Rick's marching over to us before I can even wonder where he is, 'cause ain't nothin' happens without him knowing.

I expect him to be angry. He's always angry when it comes to mouths to feed.

But after exchanging some words with Dad over my head, he surprises me by nodding, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets, watching us. I think I must've got it mixed up, but nope, he sends me the slightest, weightiest of smiles and nods again.

A foreign sort of relief flushes through me at the realization that I don't gotta persuade him.

I'm happy, for free.

Grinning up at everyone, I bask in the wonderful sight of their silent chuckles.

Glenn makes finger guns and taps them together.

'Name?'

I glance down at the dog; give it a good think. If I were a weird little rodent killer, what would I want my name to be?

I know. Dusting off the end of my nose with my finger, I share my decision with the group.

'Mouse.'

I startle as the dog licks my knuckles.

Maggie pouts, mouthing the word, Cute.

'When I found him,' I sign, trying and failing to keep my hands clean of dog-slobber, 'He caught a mouse.'

'He's a hunter,' Dad agrees, approving.

I lead Mouse into the garage to meet the others, ducking under the shutter doors and shivering off the sting of the snow. I wish we could light another campfire in here to keep warm, but Rick says the smoke would kill us faster than the cold will.

Not that it mattered much to my hearing aids.

As it turns out, the cold kills batteries, too.

I've learnt to manage without 'em by now, but I miss it. There were even days where I could hear my own laugh.

At least when the thaw comes back around, I'll be able to use them again.

I step over the piles of blankets scattered across the concrete floor, mindful not to cross paths with any of them. I wouldn't be a very popular person if I trampled somebody's stuff. Any little thing will cause a fight nowadays. We're stacked on top of each other in here. Chickens in a slaughterhouse cage. I learnt that it's easy to lose yer temper here, even if we do love each other, when I woke up durin' the first night. Glenn was apparently muttering in his sleep, sum' about, No, please, this is all I have, before T-Dog shook him awake with a pair of angry hands, growling at him to, Shut the fuck up. Nobody slept after that, but nobody ever really sleeps.

Mouse sniffs around the many makeshift beds, his tail beating back and forth against his muscly legs.

I already know how to study somebody's face to see which side of them I'm getting that day. I did it with Merle all the time. I knew the exact angle of his brow when he was drunk, about to start plottin' murder and makin' loud phone calls to people that owed him whatever it was he got scammed outta that week, the exact angle when he was gettin' mad, when he was asleep, or high, or both.

It's a talent to read closed books. Living like this for so long, I ain't the only one good at it, no more.

'Hey,' I wave to Lori. She's sat against the wall, wrapped in blankets. Not angry today. Safe to talk. 'We found a dog.'

Her bleary eyes widen.

Mouse plods up to the table, where Herschel and Carl are sitting. It's like they think he's a baby polar bear at first, but they soon realize it's safe. He soaks up their attention before slipping through their legs and approaching us, expecting some from Lori, too. 

Cautious not to lose her fingers, she sneaks a hand out from under her many layers, stroking Mouse's long snout.

A smile graces her pale lips.

'Where did you find him?', Herschel signs to me, his veiny hands moving fast and precise, 'cause he's the best outta all'us. It ain't all that fair, since I'm the deaf one and all, but this old man has known sign language longer than I've even been alive. 

'At the fence.' I answer, watching Carl stand from his seat and join his Momma on the floor, reaching out to pet the dog with her. I stare at the top of his head, tryna remember the last time we spoke. When I look back up at Herschel, I add, 'I was playing.'

'Have you named him, yet?'

Nodding, I make the sign. 'Mouse.'

'Mister Mouse.' He chuckles heartily, reminding me of Santa Claus. It's dim in here from the total lack of windows, but I can still see the way his cheeks crinkle around a mellow smile. I can always count on Herschel to make me feel like there's bread baking in the other room and I can smell it and everything is going to be okay. 'I'm sure he would love to play with you sometime.'

I return his smile, suddenly craving warm bread. 'I hope so. Tyres are bad at soccer.'

'Goodness. I'm sure.'

Calling Mouse over with a few kissy sounds, the two of us duck back under the doors in search of the soccer ball.

'Hey. Watch this.'

'We're watching.'

At the thumbs up Glenn sends me, I turn, focusing on holding the soccer ball in front of me. One, two, three. I drop it onto the toe of my boot and give it a small kick. It flies. Mouse pounces on it like a cat with a ball of yarn, slipping and sending it rolling away.

We been practicing that move for ages.

Looking back at everyone, I notice that they're all clapping for us, cowering their faces into their poofy scarves.

'Did you see?', I ask, just to make sure.

Another thumbs up from Glenn. 'Very cool.'

It weren't very cool at all — In fact, it was total garbage — but it was fun putting on a show.

'Thanks.' As Mouse chases after the ball, I leave him be and return to the campfire. 'I'm so tired, now.'

I really shouldn't be. I'm only a kid, and kids are supposed to have a lot of energy. I'm sure of it, since our neighbour Betty used to complain to Dad about her boy havin' too much of it whenever the two of 'em smoked together on our porch after work. His eyes would droop like a slow-blinking frog's whenever he got back from the mechanic shop, sometimes sleeping for a whole day, even at the dining table, while he was halfway through a meal. All the adults I knew were tired, but not like this. We's starving; hollow.

I'm jealous of my past self, who used to be able to play soccer for hours on end.

Maggie sends me a sad smile. 'Me, too, honey.'

'Sorry,' Glenn signs to me, 'cause he always says that. 'Come rest. It's warm here.'

'Can I sit next to you?', I ask T-Dog, pointing to the empty seat between him and Glenn.

Like the others, there's two moon-shaped craters hanging below his eyes, bruised an ugly purple against the brown of his skin. The man sends me a deadpan look, as if the cold's gone to my brain. 'No,' Then, sassily; 'Of course you can.'

Rolling my eyes at his attitude, I sit down and lay my head against the canvas backing.

My bones have been replaced with rope, loose and heavy.

I know we're gonna be leaving soon.

That pensive look on Rick's face is easy to recognise, even if he tries hiding it behind his scarf as he stands watch.

According to the map, there ain't no drug stores or doctor's offices for nearly five miles around us, and we're gonna need one. The medicine, what little we'd scrounged up, has ran out. Lori ain't suffering anything worse than a sniffly nose and a cough, but out here, — In the snow and the wind and the rain, with nothin' but a flimsy bitta metal to shelter us from it all — Well, we all know. I asked Dad if the baby in her belly could get sick, too, and all he told me was that none of this is ideal. I understood. When things ain't ideal, people die.

That place Rick was talkin' about, the one that we can fortify and make a life for ourselves in, it's still out there somewhere. He lectures us about it so often it's as if he can't think about anything else, a dog with a bone dangling just in front of his nose.

I bet there's lots of food and medicine there. And even beds. Proper beds, with mattresses and everything.

Maybe even a little mat for Mouse.

Yeah. That would be ideal.

Nobody would die in a place like that.

I tear my gaze from Rick, turning it onto the one big cloud in the sky.

I still think about Shane, sometimes. It comes and goes. Most of the time, he's alive. We're sitting at the picnic table back on the farm, coloring a meadow of flowers together, and then there's an ebbing swash of time where something inside me hurts real bad like I've been shot, and then he's holding my hand in a forest because I'm scared. I'm showing him the frog I've caught, mirroring his grin.

Suddenly, none of the muscles in his face are working and he's looking at me with milky eyes.

I don't wanna shoot him.

Bringing my hand up to my locket, I squeeze the thousand-pound weight between my fingers.

The spot he's taken up in my brain was supposed to be mine, and so was Momma's, and Merle's, and everyone else's.

Even in death, as Andrea said, He's still a fucking asshole.

I wonder if she's still alive.

A girl went missing from our town, once. My Daddy was in the kitchen washing dishes while I watched her Momma cry on TV.

I didn't know Andrea too well, so all my tears are staying inside my face for now. It's not like it was with Sophia. No, we packed into our cars and we fucked off North to a place called Newnan, leaving everything, including her and any chance of finding her, behind.

A bit stupidly, I hope the cows made it out alright.

Then, a hand is waving over the sun.

Lifting my head, I realize it's Dad trying to get my attention.

'How are you?', he signs as I stuff the locket under my sweatshirt.

'Hungry. Tired.' The usual answer; then, 'Everything okay?'

'Yeah. Taking a break.'

'I think Rick wants to leave.'

As Dad eases himself onto the crate beside me, he sneaks a glance at him. 'He does. We were talking.'

The others must be reading our signs, 'cause Maggie butts in, talking with Dad for a minute. I wait 'til they're done.

'We need medicine,' I comment quite uselessly when his attention is back on me.

'That's right. And better shelter. This place is shitty.'

'Do you want to leave?'

'I want you to be safe and happy. So, yes.'

'Are we walking again?'

He makes a face. 'No. We're riding bicycles.'

'Funny, Dad.'

'He wants to head East. The next town is close. Nine miles. There's a hospital there. Might have medicine.' His hands slow down. They hover, unsure. When he picks one back up, he finger-spells the word, 'S-h-a-r-p-s-b-u-r-g.'

The blood in my neck rushes up into my cheeks, and for just a moment, I'm warm.

I wonder if her house still looks the same. With the gravel path leadin' up to the porch, lined with weeds before any of this even began. My bike chained to the wire fence, asking itself where the little girl that loves it has gone as it grows rustier every weekend that passes. The grass was always scratching my knees, wild and forgotten, a bit like me. We made the most of what we had.

I hope the mirror in her bedroom is broke. I hope the kitchen is rotted; loungeroom filthy.

It don't deserve to be the way it was before, 'cause ain't nothin' the way it was before. That was for us.

Dad is waiting for me to say something, but I got nothin'.

Being that close to that house again might just make me start believing' in ghosts, but we need to do it. For Lori.

'No choice.' I sign, plain and simple. 'We need to go.'

He studies me for a moment, torn on something, before nodding and rubbing his fist over his heart. 'Sorry.'

I shrug, playing with the pebbles of lint on my mittens.

I think about Momma, too. She weren't all that different from Shane, especially not in the end. Both were sick, but not in the way that Lori is sick, not with germs. Even now, I don't quite know if it'd be worse knowin' whether or not she turned and lost her mind one last time. At least in the picture in my locket, she ain't ever gonna turn. I'll keep her safe from everythin' outside her little bronze door.

'Forget about that.' Dad waves off the imaginary town, sneering. 'I'm going hunting. You coming?' 

I hear that right? Hunting?

All the rabbits are hiding at the bottom of their burrows at this time of year, the squirrels either dead or holed away. Even my Dad, the best hunter and tracker I know, who can shoot a field mouse out a tree, ain't been able to catch nothin' in this weather.

'You tried,' I remind him. 'Many, many times.'

'I know. But,' He nods over his shoulder, where Mouse is rolling around in the snow. 'Now we have help.'

Mouse. Of course.

Our last chance at catchin' a proper meal.

He reminds me of Tank a lil' bit, but smaller, whiter; with all four legs.

I'm willing to give it a chance. 'Okay. I'll come.'

Since we started to catch onto the fact that the cold slows the walkers down, we all been allowed out more.

A pat on my knee. 'Good girl. Let's go.'

He asks Glenn if he wants to come as well, and 'cause he got nothin' better to do and we make a good team, he agrees.

I'm inside a giant snow globe, waiting for the glass to break.

It was about a month ago now that I woke up one morning with my head in my hands, holed up in a gas station, crying snot and tears and dribble 'cause the ringing in my ear had turned unbearable. I didn't believe Herschel at first. My hearing couldn't deteriorate. I didn't even know what that word meant. But no matter what words I did or didn't know, their voices kept getting foggier and the ringing kept getting louder, until one day there was a pop beside my brain, a burst of pain, and then the world went silent. And then I believed him.

I was scared, at first. How could I hear a walker comin', now? Would I never hear my Dad say, I love you, again?

But it didn't take long for us to learn enough sign language to talk to each other, I love you, included. Nothin' would've stopped us. Maggie found a little ASL guidebook with pictures in it while we were passin' through a library. Go, Be quiet, Hide, Run, were the first words Dad made sure I knew. Good morning, Goodnight, and all the other things I'd wanna say. Thank you. Have mine. Fuck off.

Even now, whenever I wake up during the night, I always find one person studying the book, pages cradled by a flashlight.

As the three of us follow after Mouse, snow drifts through the thicket of naked branches like ash, catching winks of sunlight before they kiss the ground. It's hard to feel like I've lost anything when it snows. It's one thing that's always been silent. So have ripples in water, or a smile on a loved one's lips. I've made a place for myself in the silence, and I fit well here. Nobody else is allowed in my snow globe.

Glenn squeezes my mittened hand as I'm watching the falling snow, pulling my gaze up to his face.

With his free hand, he signs, 'Ringing?'

I shrug one shoulder, pinching my fingers. 'A little.'

It never really goes away. It's the one last thing I can hear, but I tune it out.

He attempts a smile, the curve of his cheekbones a raw shade of pink. 'Sorry.'

I always feel guilty when I have to answer that question. I'on know why. It ain't my fault.

'You always say sorry.'

'Sorry.'

Holding back a smile of my own, a real one, I ignore him in favor of watching the snow again.

The memory of that morning we had on the roof of the RV swells in front of me now, pretty and sun-colored, a cherry on my tongue. It was the mornin' after we found out I wasn't dying. I had a life. I had a chance to live it just like everybody else. Equals. Whenever I look at Glenn, I remember that morning. Happy and alive, with a group of our own. A friend. The first one in a long, long time.

When it's just the three of us like this, I always feel like I'm betraying Merle. It's a slimy feeling, one I force myself to swallow it down each time, but I ain't done nothin' wrong. I ain't replaced him on purpose. If I lie, I can say I ain't replaced him at all.

The worst part about it is that Glenn fits better into the void Merle left behind than Merle himself ever did.

My thoughts are interrupted when Dad puts an arm out in front of us.

I jolt, following his gaze.

Ahead of us, Mouse furiously investigates along an invisible trail at the end of his nose. He, too, goes still all at once. He's found something. We watch him square up with a lump in the snow, his tail an exclamation mark. Then there's a rabbit, a bite, a struggle. I squeeze Glenn as snow goes flying. Dad lifts his crossbow. A single bolt is released, and the rabbit is pinned to the ground by its heart.

It twitches around the bolt once, twice, tryna run away like all rabbits do, and then it goes limp.

That's our first kill in weeks.

'Dinner!', I exclaim to Glenn with both my hands, as Dad moves to pluck the bolt out, shaking off the snow.

A long, fat rabbit.

Dad was right. Mouse done spoiled us. Him bein' such a great hunter must be how he's survived this long. Everybody's got a reason. Mine is that I have people who love me, both dead and alive, who have fought tooth and nail to protect me every day.

Dad slings the rabbit over his shoulder, gesturing onwards. 'Let's keep going.'

Taking Glenn's hand again, I have a thought. 'Is his name Rabbit, now?'

He shakes his head, no, both of us falling into step with Dad and Mouse. 'It's Mini Daryl.'

Pssh. Whatever. 'Bad name.'

'Great name.'

I point side-long at Dad, as if saying, Go on, then. Tell him.

He cringes. 'No, thanks.'

'See? Bad name.'

'Are you bullying me?'

'Yep.'

Unamused, Dad gives us a look. 'I'm not blind. I can see your hands.' A pause; glance. 'She's right. Bad name.'

Like I always do when I'm giggling around Dad and Glenn, I say a silent, Sorry, Merle, because he's always been inside my head.

By the time we're walking back through the car yard gate, Mouse has caught us three more rabbits.

Beth's jaw drops.

'Dinner!', I sign to her, grinning, turning to sign the same thing to T and Rick who are stood on watch, their eyes going wide when they notice the bounty. I duck under the shutters and sign it to everyone else huddled in the garage, too. 'Dinner! Come on!'

They follow me out to the campfire, not wasting any time skewerin' and roasting the rabbits as the sun begins setting.

'Well done,' Maggie signs to the three of us, thoroughly impressed.

Dad nods to Mouse, as if to say, Thank him.

Thanks, Mouse, Everyone obliges, and even though he don't understand Human, he still grins his silly, gummy grin. I take a seat next to Dad on the wooden pallet, basking in the delicious smell of bubbling fat and the sight of my smiling family.

The moon is waning over our heads like a pretty marble, passin' through the stars, as we slurp up our greasy, mouth-watering rabbit meat. Even Lori has come out of hiding to enjoy the meal, her thin body curled up next to Rick in the broken car seats, shivering as she nibbles a meaty thigh. There's a bump under her blankets, right on top of her belly, that makes it look a bit like she's hiding my soccer ball under there. Really, it's the baby. Some nights, she lets me put my cheek to it so I can feel the heartbeat from the outside. It freaked me out at first. It's like she swallowed an alien. There's a tiny human in there, separated by only a few layers of skin. I hope it likes rabbit.

I know she needed this. I think we're all relieved to see her eating a good meal after all this time, something fatty and heavy, something to fill out her caved-in cheeks. If we're gonna leave for Sharpsburg at some stage, she'll need the energy. We all will.

Carol says that if it don't come out early, the baby's gonna be born in Spring. I've always thought of the seasons as a clock for huntin', just like my Daddy does. Summer's when all the coyotes come out, and you can stay out late 'cause the sun don't go down 'til after dinnertime. In Fall, the migratory birds start to fly over Georgia to reach warmer places further South. I've always liked watching the V shapes glide across the sky, wishing I could grow a pair of wings and join 'em up there. Spring is baby season. When everything gets born again, from the grass under the mud to the leaves inside the trees to the baby deer, called calves, inside they Momma's bellies.

Babies are good at bein' born in Spring, I told Carol when I could see a tick of worry in her brow, especially after Carl brought up naming the baby Sophia again, You'd think they's dumb, since they's babies an' all, but they know.

I's talkin' outta my ass a lil' bit, 'cause I was a baby once and I was born in Summer, but it made her feel better.

And then there's Winter. Everything's dead in Winter, except for the things that know how to hide.

Swallowing a juicy bite of rabbit, I glance at Mouse.

He lays at my Dad's boots in the snow, both of 'em gnawing away at their scraps of meat like long-time buddies.

Sucking the meat off the warm bone in my hand, I click my fingers to get the dog's attention. He perks up, craning his neck to look at me, his eyes bulging as I toss the bone in his direction as thanks. He catches it midair, crushing it between his teeth.

When my gaze meets Dad's, he gives me a thumbs up and a questioning look. 'Tasty?'

I nod, my own greasy thumb glistening in the light of the fire as I give him one back.

His lip twitches upward, as if he's about to smile, but then he remembers something. 'We're talking about leaving.'

Looking around, I see the whole group deep in conversation as they eat.

'What they saying?'

'Glenn thinks we should stay. He goes to Sharpsburg with T-Dog and they come back with medicine.' He tells me. 'But we can't split up. Dangerous. Could get lost. And we can't stay here. Cold. Not secure. Both; too risky.'

'So we all go.'

He nods, with not much else to say. We all go. 'We leave tomorrow.'

I don't remember voting for that decision, but things ain't worked like that in a long time.

Nine miles. That would be nothin' if we were a flock of birds. Birds can fly twenty-five miles an hour, don'cha know. I know lots of animal facts like that one. Whenever I can't sleep, I try and see how many I can remember until I'm blinking myself awake and the sun is rising. But we ain't birds, and we ain't even got the cars no more. I'on know how fast humans walk, but I guess I'll find out.

Pushing away my thoughts, I sign, 'It's kinda funny. We're surrounded by cars and none of them work.'

'This place is shitty,' He says for a second time, agreeing.

As we make our way through the meal, Dad, Glenn, and T-Dog keep forcin' their food into my hands. They act as if they can't see my signs telling them to save it for themselves, 'cause they're a bunch of assholes. I give up on changing their minds after a while, 'cause I've learnt it never works. Rick and Maggie do the same to Carl, Lori, and Herschel. We're all just a bunch of assholes who love each other.

That night, it's the same routine. Pull down the shutter doors. Tie a shirt through the padlock loop. Switch on the lamps.

I get comfortable in my pile of blankets that I share with Dad, digging through our bag. Wind rattles the garage walls, bullets of rain and hail battering the thin metal. For once, the rumbling of my stomach ain't here to join 'em. I pull out my journal and pencil, starting my ritual of shaving the wood away from the lead using Merle's knife, dwindling it down to the size of a used cigarette. Blowing the dust off, I sheathe my blade and flip to a page I can write on. Ain't no blank ones left, but I can squeeze what I wanna say into the gaps.

As everyone lays down, they keep clutching at their bellies like Lori does all the time, stuffed full of dinner.

Hello, diry, I write, 'cause Lori taught me how, Today was a grat day.

Mouse comes and inspects our blankets before plopping himself down next to me, resting his chin on his paws.

We faund a dog. I named him Mows becoz he kils mise and he is cyut. He caut for rabbits for us. He is my frend.

Dad lays down on my other side, giving my arm a squeeze and closing his eyes.

We are leeving again tomoro. Dad spelt it, Sharpsburg. My Muma uset to live ther but she is ded now. I wont to leev but also I dont. Im a bit scered. Dont tell nobode. At leest we are leeving the car yard befor it gets the chans to kil one of us.

As olways, Rest in peece, M, T, A, M, O, S, S, J, J, P.

I snap the book shut and place it back into the bag, zipping it up and rolling onto my back.

Dad throws a blanket over me as the wind blows in through the slash in the wall, pulling me into him with a strong arm.

Somebody clicks off the last lamp.

Squirrels can jump ten times their body length, I think to myself, focusing on the beat of Dad's heart and the warm weight of Mouse slumped against my legs, before I'm opening my eyes again and there's a band of cool sunlight on my face.

I watch a bird fly past the gap.

We never stay in one place for long.

I hover near the gate along with the rest of the group, clutching the straps of my backpack.

Lori got worse overnight.

I'm looking at her right now, as Rick peels off his coat and wraps it around her. Her face; it's paler than the snow, her nostrils two rings of puffy, red skin, leaking snot onto her lip. She wipes it away, fingers shaking. I almost want to tell Rick to call this whole thing off, but that would be stupid. The sky's cleared up some, making way for the sun. If we don't go now, we'll be stuck here forever.

Threading the last button through the loop, Rick turns and rallies all of us to follow him outta the car yard.

We file out into the open, a trail of footsteps carving a line through the snow.

Rick takes up the front of the line. Dad, the back. When wolves travel in packs, the two strongest of the group do this, too. This way, one can flatten the terrain for everyone else, while the other can keep an eye out, make sure nobody falls behind. That's why I'm in the middle, trailing behind Lori, Carl, and Herschel. We're the smallest and the weakest and the sickest, but I can still trace the treeline with my gaze and watch for danger, grabbing for the hilt of my knife every time a shrub shivers in the wind.

Mouse walks alongside us as we journey, 'cause I think he's decided he doesn't wanna be alone, anymore.

With every step I take, I find myself missing Dad's truck more and more. I know it was just a hunk of old, blue metal on two pairs of wheels, but it's still gone, and I still miss it like I'd miss a person. It's true that it'd been through its fair share of bumpy rides through the forest and countless tyre changes, but ain't nothin' short of an army tank would'a made it outta what happened to it in the end. They came out of nowhere, is how T tells it. We were cruising along the streets of a small town when a group of people jumped us. Way I tell it, they came out from behind some cars that were spilled out across the sidewalks. A gunshot. We veered, straight into the window of a store.

Dad and Rick killed those ones, too. Four people; two men, a woman, and a sorta-kid — A teenager.

I remember the boy's face. Caramel-colored with a nose that looked like a bird's beak, maybe a few years older than my cousin, Tobias, but people always said he had a baby's face. I couldn't figure out if they deserved it. They'd tried to rob us, a small group with two kids and a pregnant woman; our medicine, blankets, water. But back in the beginning, Dad and Merle did the same thing to other groups. Lone cars on the highway, pairs of people as they walked, sleeping camps. It was awful, but it was how we stayed alive.

There was this one night that Dad asked Merle if they should stop while he thought I was asleep.

We're doin' it for her, was all my Uncle had to say.

Every bad person I ever met probably had somebody they was doin' it for.

Their blood pooled onto the tarmac as our blue truck smoked, wedged between a scattering of debris and rubble. The men tried pushing it free for over an hour, but it was stuck there, well and truly. Eventually, we accepted we had to leave it behind.

After that, Rick's truck shut off one afternoon and refused to turn back on no matter what Glenn did to it.

We couldn't all fit into the grey car, or onto the back of Dad's motorbike, so that's how we were left with nothing.

Still, Dad swears up and down he's gonna go back for his bike as soon as he can, soon as we're settled someplace proper. He hid it real good and took the cylinder head with him, so there's a very good chance ain't nobody nabbing it before he can get back there. My Dad's a smartass like that. I think he'd sooner pull all his teeth out 'fore he lets somebody else have his precious bike.

On a little street sign just ahead of us that reads, Poplar, a tiny bird perches.

It chirps and flies off when we get close.

Poplar Street. Two miles down.

Herschel looks at me over his shoulder, his brows made even fluffier than usual by the snow that's gathered on them.

'Doing well?', He asks.

I nod, yes. My feet are achin', but I'm sure I ain't the only one. 'You? I have water if you need.'

'That's okay, sweetie. I'm not thirsty.'

I give him a bit of a stern look, one that Rick would be proud of, but he just turns to face forward again.

Hmph. I'm suddenly appreciating how the others must feel when I refuse their food. 

Glancing behind me, I extend the offer to Carl and Lori. When they accept — Well. When Carl accepts and forces Lori to do the same, — Dad alerts Rick, and guides us off the road, into a little eating area beside a kiosk station to take a break. I drop my backpack onto the seat of a wooden table and pull out my bottle of water. Lori and Carl sit down as I unscrew the cap and hand it to them, waiting for Carl to take a small sip first, holding it to his Momma's cracked lips after. Her neck gulps twice before he passes it back to me.

Most everyone else settles down at the other tables, catching their breaths.

Dad approaches the three of us. He points at the bottle with a no-nonsense expression. 'Drink that.'

I'm about to stash it, but do as he says. I am a little thirsty.

'How are you?'

'I'm okay.' I zip the empty bottle away. 'My feet hurt.'

'You can handle it.'

I nod. I can. 'You?'

'Feet hurt.'

'You can handle it.'

He huffs a chuckle. 'Don't be smart. I'm going to check the—.'

I follow his gesture over to the kiosk, nodding and taking the seat next to Carl.

The boy glances at me a couple times, as if it's hard to look at me, like how it's hard to look at the sun for too long before you start seein' shapes. He awkwardly points at my bag. Huh? He touches his fingers to his freckled chin, swiping forwards.

'Thank you.'

He knows how to sign?

All this time, I ain't seen him pick up the guidebook even once.

I ain't sure what to say, so I just nod until he looks away again, and then we're both just watching Mouse sniff the ground.

Boy, do the two of us know how to hold a grudge. Ever since our squabble that afternoon before Dale died, we been holdin' so tight onto 'em we ain't even know what to do with 'em anymore. You're a stupid baby, Harley. I hate your guts, Carl. I'm glad you're not my sister. I'm glad you ain't my brother. Stupid. That was months ago, now, and I might still be a stupid baby — I'll give him that — but I don't hate his guts. I just hate sayin' sorry. My teachers used to say bein' able to apologise is a life skill, but I never saw how it keeps ya alive.

Mustering up the courage to give it a go anyway, I sign to him, 'Back on the farm. I was just—.'

Wait. He's looking at me all confused. He don't understand.

I deflate, embarrassed. Never mind.

'Are you okay?', Beth signs to me from the other table.

'Yeah... My feet hurt.'

'Mine, too.' She sighs wistfully, her blonde hair flying around in the wind. 'We need a massage.'

It forces a giggle outta me. She makes me feel like such a girl, sometimes.

When Dad comes back, T-Dog in tow, it doesn't look like they found much in the way of food or water — Just what looks like a crumpled granola bar and a couple newspapers that we could prolly use to make a fire. Mysterious Infection Hits France, is one of their headlines, not even worthy of a bold font. Dad stuffs the little bar into Lori's coat pocket before he helps her stand from the bench, gently passing her off to Rick. He runs a hand up and down his wife's back, murmuring to her as I sling my backpack on and get to my feet.

I'm okay, I think she's assuring him, trying to brush him off.

Maggie shares a worried glance with Carol, then with Dad.

Before I know it, I'm walking over Rick's footprints again.

There's the river.

I saw it on the map, but it's bigger in person. It's not just a white strip of ink bent around laddering terrain lines. It's a flat, blue sheet of ice wedged between two frozen shorelines, snow scuffing over its surface as the wind pushes it around.

Like I said, I saw it on the map. That's why I know the only road that passes over it is miles away.

We're gonna have to cross it on foot.

'We need to be careful,' Rick turns to address us. He makes sure to sign as he speaks, very obviously struggling to match the volume of the wind. 'I'll go first. Make sure it's safe. Then, Harley, Lori, Carl, and Herschel. Then, the rest.'

There's no option for any of us to dispute the plan, so he goes ahead and nods to himself, sighing and turning toward the thick bank of snow. This is what Rick does. He risks his life, risks falling into rivers and freezing to death, 'cause he's got a few screws lose and he's brave, and some months ago, on the side of the road after our home burnt down, he told us, This isn't a democracy, anymore. I grab onto Dad's hand, squeezing it like a stress ball at the doctor's office before they stick the needle in ya arm, as our leader surfs down the hill.

Fringes of snow break off and roll down as he goes, eventually landing at the bottom.

Okay, I think I can see him mouthing to himself, Okay.

He takes his first step. He holds his arms out on either side of himself. Another step. Another; delicate, as if he's testing out whether or not he's gonna burn his feet, learning he won't, and then doing it all over again with the other foot.

When he reaches the other side, he pulls himself up onto the shelf of snow.

He plops onto his ass.

He made it.

When he realizes this, he raises his hand and waves us over.

I take a deep breath.

Harley, Lori, Carl, and Herschel, is what he said. Harley. I'm next.

'Go slow,' Dad signs to me, looking at me in a very serious way. 'Don't walk exactly where Rick walked. It could break.'

I nod, repeating his instructions in my head as I let go of his hand, forcing myself to approach the ledge.

Sitting down and sliding all the way to the bottom, I push myself to my feet, staring out onto the ice.

Oh, shit.

I swear it ain't look this far from up there.

'It's okay,' Rick's signing to me from across the river. 'You're light. You won't fall.'

'You promise?'

'I promise.'

Okay. Okay, I can do this.

I take my first step. Shit, it's slippery. I almost lose my balance, catching it right at the last moment. My gaze snaps back up to Rick. It's okay, He signs again. I look over my shoulder, where up on the hill, Dad signs the same thing. It's okay. It's like a tight rope. Taking care to mind the puddles of sleet sitting on the ice, I walk the rope one step at a time, water rushing underneath my boots.

When I'm close enough, Rick braces himself on one leg and reaches down for me, hooking his hands under my armpits. He lifts me onto the shelf of snow, setting me down beside him. I clutch his arms, my legs shaking. Oh, solid ground. It's never felt better.

Well done, He mouths, giving both my shoulders a firm squeeze before letting go.

Looking back at the other shoreline, I see a small Glenn and Maggie both sending me thumbs' ups.

'Proud of you, baby,' Dad is signing beside them, as Carol cups her own cheeks, relieved.

'I made it,' I reply, heart pounding.

'Yeah, you did. With sore feet, too.'

I wish I could let out a laugh, but I can't. Not yet.

Lori is next.

Lori, sick and frail, with the baby in her belly.

T-Dog slides down first and catches her when she reaches the bottom, holding her hands to steady her. She carefully steps onto the ice, alone. Her fingers leave T-Dog's. She's so skinny these days, I'm worried the wind might just knock her over. I feel Rick tense against me. Slowly, and cradling her belly, she ventures further out. There's a moment or two I think she might trip, but she makes it.

Rick pulls her up, and then it's Carl's turn; then Herschel's.

The four of us help the old man climb up onto the bank. The worst of it is over.

We wait for everybody else to cross. Glenn and Maggie set out next, keeping a good distance between them the whole way, before Beth makes her way down behind them, doing the same. Everyone calls out encouragement and praise, egging them on. One by one, we work together to pull them up. Glenn. Then, Maggie. Beth, who's shaking like a little lamb. And Mouse, who don't even need our help.

As Rick and Maggie pull Beth up, the last ones to begin their crossing are Dad, T-Dog, and Carol.

They're halfway across when Mouse starts barking.

A head appears over the hill behind them. Shoulders. A fleshy ribcage. It's a walker. An actual walker. It don't know where its goin', blindly trudging forward, skirting the ledge. It's gonna fall down. Everyone realizes this at the same time, suddenly pointing and shouting things. The three of them stop in their tracks. They turn to look behind them, just as the thing takes its next and final step. With no more ground to stand on, it falls head-first into the slope, tumbling, once, twice. It smacks into the ice, a cannon ball of limbs.

A line as thin as a hair shoots out from under its body.

A crack. The ice is cracking.

My body lurches as if I'm about to do something, about to climb down there and help, but we can't.

The only way we can help them is by staying off the ice.

The line grows longer and longer. It's under Dad's boot before he can even take a step. His chest heaves, staring down at it. Carol and T-Dog linger nearby, terrified, as if any flinch or gasp from them will send them all under. He pulls his crossbow off his shoulder. I'm not sure if he's about to shoot the walker, or maybe ditch the bow to lessen his bodyweight, but he don't get to do either.

His leg goes straight through the ice.

He falls onto his forearms. His weight splits the line into three; snaps the surface into pieces.

SPLASH.

Both he and Carol are suddenly neck-deep in the water.

I think I squeal a little bit, 'cause I feel it in my throat.

The walker lifts its head.

T-Dog looks back at us, shouting and holding his hand out. He wants something. Rick catches his meanin', unholstering his pistol and rearing it back, hurling it as far as he can over the river. T-Dog told us he used to be the best player on his baseball team in high school, so he catches it with one hand, pulling the slide back to check the chamber. I guess we can stop callin' him a liar, now.

The walker drags itself forward, clawing marks into the ice.

Dad reaches under the water, teeth bared, face scrunched, hauling his crossbow out and slinging it across the ice.

It spins across the slippery surface, coming to an eventual stop someplace that don't matter anybody.

T-Dog raises the gun.

He pulls the trigger.

There's a flash of light, and at the same time, a spurt of black blood.

As soon as the walker is dead, he takes a step toward, but Dad shouts at him and he stops.

Water goes flying as he grabs for purchase, setting his elbow on the ice. He puts his weight on it. The ice crumbles like a cookie. He tries again, this time keeping his body as flat as he can, and manages to pull himself up onto his stomach.

I can only imagine how much it hurts, but he pushes through it, army-crawling over to Carol.

They lock hands.

With what little strength he has left, he drags her out, too, letting her collapse beside him.

They both lay there, the wind blowing over their bodies as they struggle to suck in a full breath, curled up like shrimps.

T-Dog wastes no time. He teeters and slips around on the sleet as he kneels, grabbing a fistful of their coats and pulling them further away from the broken ice. They're not moving. It's like they've turned into the frozen walkers, their joints all locked up from the cold, unable to hinge. T-Dog gets Carol to her feet first. As Rick, Glenn, and Maggie hurry down to the shoreline, I follow after them and grab onto Carol the moment she's within arm's reach. We all help pull her up, as T-Dog spins around, waddling back to Dad.

Carol's legs give out. Her body lands in the snow, her arms wrapping around her stomach.

Over her hip, I watch as T-Dog, strong as an ox, gets all one-hundred-and-ninety pounds of my Dad to his feet.

When they reach the bank, we all grab for him.

Even through the layers of fabric, I can feel the deadly cold seeped all the way through his skin. As we lay him in the snow, he winces, his hair frozen stiff and his cheekbones redder'un cherry popsicles. I cup them with my mittened hands, crouching at his side.

I'm grateful I can't hear any of the panicking around me.

I just hold him, waiting for him to open his eyes.

When he does, they're blue, like the river.

Then, Rick and Glenn are pulling him up. I give them space, letting 'em hook each of his arms around their shoulders. Maggie and Beth follow suit and with Carol, hugging their arms around her waist, frantically looking for direction from our leader. He points. We all follow his finger. There's a couple tiny buildings just up the road, not too far. That's where we're going. We need to get Dad and Carol warm. We start making our way over there without a second thought, bracing ourselves against the snow coming down on us, now.

We reach the yellow security barriers. Carl helps me force them upwards, letting everybody through. It looks like this place was a ticket and security checkpoint. There's two little booths, the windows smeared with old blood, and a bigger building in the middle. Rick kicks that one's door in, making way for us to spill inside the kitchen-sized room, as they set Dad down on a dirty bed in the corner.

The two girls gently lower Carol down next to him, helping her peel off her wet clothes.

Taking Dad's coat zipper in my fingers, I rip it all the way down and pull him out of it, quickly doing the same with his shirt.

Rick casts about. He spots a wastebin in the corner of the room and moves it to the middle, taking the newspapers that T-Dog is offering him from his backpack. Glenn passes him a lighter as he stuffs it down. Flick, flick. He cups it; holds it there.

It catches.

—hould be contained within a week, according to the French Health Ambas—, it reads, before curling around the flame.

As warmth begins to emanate, I move down to Dad's boots, unlacing them, tossing them away with his socks. He's left in just his jeans, with barely enough energy to hold his hands out to the steadily burning pages of the Washington Post.

Taking off my own coat and cuddling up to his side, I hope I can give him some of my body heat. I don't have much of it, but I don't need it all. I'm happy to share it. Already, he looks a little less awful just by being outta the wind. Carol has been stripped down to her bra and cargo pants, shivering as Maggie fits her into a spare sweatshirt. Pulling my beanie off, I fit it onto Dad's head. He looks silly. Shirtless with his edgy tattoos on display, wearing his daughter's pink hat. When Maggie passes me another sweatshirt, I help dress him in that, too.

As I work, T-Dog approaches us, setting the crossbow against the wall.

A pearl of water drips off the end of Dad's nose as the man leaves.

I study him, feeling guilty. 'I wanted to help.'

He frowns at me.

I add nothing more. There was nothing any of us could do, but I still wanted him to know.

Everyone finally settles around the tiny fire, absorbing every last ounce of heat it has to offer.

Rick signs to me, 'We can stay the night.'

'Thank you,' I nod.

As he moves his attention elsewhere, I sneak a glance at Lori.

She's coughing. A yellow glob falls into her hand, before she wipes it on some newspaper. I know that ain't good.

We stay like this for a while. The only way to tell that time is passing at all is every minute or so, when someone adds a fresh wad of newspaper to the fire to keep it alight. Paper burns fast, but it also creates a lotta smoke. We eventually have to open all the windows to let it out, which in turn lets the cold in, but our only other choice is to suffocate to death. Ain't nobody in the mood for that.

Once Dad and Carol have both fallen asleep, I take out the little ASL handbook from my bag, scooting back to sit against the wall. I might as well get some studyin' in, if we ain't leaving for a while. I rest it in the crook of my thighs, flipping to a dog-eared page.

To sign, IMAGINATION, it reads, Start by extending both pinkies.

The little hands in the picture look like they's holdin' invisible teacups, so copy them, and it's easy enough.

To sign, OPINION, the picture directly below it reads, Start by creating a circle shape with one hand.

A kick to the bed frame.

Startled, I look up at the attacker.

It's Carl.

He points to the empty spot next to me. I ain't got any real reason to decline, so I give a nod, making a little extra room for him as he settles down at my side, only to do nothin' but fiddle with his fingers in his lap. I can't ask him what he wants.

Suddenly, he takes the book from me, thumbing through the alphabetical section.

He stops when he reaches S, studying the first picture on the page.

To sign, SORRY, it reads, Start by forming a fist.

My eyes go wide, watching the boy do as it says. Place it over your heart, making a grinding motion. He glances at me, silently asking if he's doing it right. He's not, obviously. You ain't s'posed to leave a bruise. But I get the message loud and clear all the same. He's sorry. Maybe for calling me a stupid baby, or for telling me that even though I know what a chantrelle mushroom is and I can shoot a gun, I still ain't worth nothin' without somebody else around to watch out for me; him around. Or maybe just for what happened at the river.

Before I can decide which one it is, he gets to flippin' again, finding what he wants at E.

He blanches. Got more than he bargained for with this one.

Still, he gives it a go.

It's slightly wrong again, but there's only one sign I know that looks like that.

'Everything.'

He stares at me, boyishly unsure, not looking very much like his Dad anymore like he wishes he did.

You don't need to be sorry, I'd sign to him if he could understand, You were right. I do need help, sometimes.

'Me, too,' I sign instead, reaching over and flipping to the page with the same phrase, and signing it again.

He glances from my hands, to the page, back to my hands again. I'm sorry, too. I think that's all we need to say, but I'll still add this last bit on, anyway. Word by word, I use the book to translate. It's obvious we could use my diary and pencil to write messages to each other. It'd be easier, but easier don't feel right. Anybody can do that. It's only the special ones that will learn your language.

When the sentence is complete, I rest my hands in my lap, watching his face for a reaction.

'You're my brother.'

He's stunned for a moment, and it's a long moment.

But then there's a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Carl is my big brother, and that's just the way things is. It ain't my fault we're in this little family together, that we've seen people die together, been scared and hurt together, that he let me cry on his shoulder one night and never mentioned it again.

He consults the book one last time before lookin' me in the eye, signing back, 'You're my sister.'

Always have been.

When I jokingly flip to the page that reads, To sign, I LOVE YOU, he snaps the book closed. A genuinely disgusted expression plagues his face, looking like he's just eaten rotten broccoli. It makes me forget all about how cold I am as he gets up and walks away.

It's nighttime when I open my eyes.

Lifting my cheek from Dad's shoulder, a yawn parts my lips. The sight of the moon peeking over the windowsill greets me, glass pulsing a faint orange as the fire in the wastebin burns nearby. I can see Rick out there, hugging himself next to a little light.

Scooting off the mattress, the guidebook falls from my lap.

I pull on my socks and boots. I don't think I'll be able to get back to sleep, anyway.

I remember in the Winter, when it was time to get dressed for school and work, Dad used to lay our clothes over the electric heater that we always had plugged into our living room wall. We'd make a game of it, pretending we were cooking steaks over a grill while the sky turned from black to grey, to white, to blue. His boss at the mechanic's shop had him startin' his shifts at six in the morning, while Merle and everyone else in our trailer park was still asleep in their beds. It was unfair, but he always found ways to make sure I never found out.

Grabbing a stick of newspaper, I stand and tip-toe my way through everyone sleeping on the floor.

When I open the door, I shoulder myself into the cold and step out.

It closes behind me.

In the middle of the outstretched road, Rick sits with his back to everything, staring up at the stars.

I wonder if he's got a person up there, just like I do.

As I come to sit beside him, he lowers his gaze; regards me with an empty sort of look.

I don't mind it none, instead opting to study the creative setup in front of us. A metal cooking pot filled with damp sticks, a small flame flickering amongst the ash and dirt at the bottom. I take the paper in my lap and ball some up, tucking it into the pot.

'I thought you might be cold,' I explain as the flames grab onto it, growing larger. 'Your fire sucked.'

He doesn't smile; lips heavy, downturned.

I sign something else. 'Why are you out here?'

'Can't sleep.'

Well, I guessed that. 'Are you okay?'

A sigh leaves his body, sucked into the wind. He's not going to answer that. 'You should go inside.'

'I'm not tired.'

'Doesn't matter. Come on.' He moves as if to stand, holding a hand out for me to take, but I cross my arms over my chest and stay right where I am. He tries waiting me out, but it's useless. Settling down again, he hesitates before signing, 'Stubborn.'

Unfolding my arms, I finally get him to crack a smile as I sign, 'I know.'

It's wiped away when he flinches uncomfortably at something.

'Was there a noise?', I guess, confused.

The horizon gapes emptily at us from afar, a black stripe. I can't see anything unusual.

'Lori.' He supplies, defeated. 'She's coughing.'

A soft, oh, slips from my mouth.

'It's why I'm out here.'

The only thing I can think of to say is, 'She'll be okay.'

It's not much, but Rick still reaches out and takes my shoulder, attempting a smile before dropping his hand.

I'm on the side of the road again, the trees looming over me, tucked between old cobble walls as the farm sits some miles away, whatever that's left of it burning to a crisp. The door is there, is what he snarled at us. Let's see how far you get. The world was an open set of jaws in that moment. While I'm almost certain Dad and I would've made it, because like T says, we're cockroaches, I don't know for sure if the rest of the group would have, if Beth, Herschel, and Carol would have. We've been together since... Everything.

But I do know that we chose Rick, and he chose us. I would say it's like this thing called symbiosis, which I learnt about in second grade. But it's not. My teacher told us that without the egrets and the anemone and the sucker fish, the cattle and the clown fish and the sharks would die. They can't make it alone. But we ain't a family because we'd die otherwise.

We're family because Dale had this stupid old watch while he was still alive, and he said that despite everything, our paths aligned at the quarry all the same, and then I got scratched and a whole bunch of awful stuff happened, like explosions and gunshots and broken fences, and we blinked, and now we love each other so deeply we don't care if we could survive apart.

'You're doing a good job, Rick,' I sign.

It might be the fire, but his eyes go shiny afterwards. Yeah. I'll pretend it's the fire.

He got us to the CDC. Got us out. Killed Sophia. Jim. His best friend, just a few days later. Those four people on the road.

He touches his chin. 'Thank you.'

I can tell he doesn't believe me. M, T, A, M, O, S, S, J, J, P. I don't know how else to convince him. Maybe I can't.

Absentmindedly watching the fire dance, I clutch the locket through my sweatshirt.

'What is that?', Rick asks.

Thinking nothing of it, I pull the thing free, letting it sit against my sternum. 'Shane gave it to me.'

Something about Rick twists at the mention of Shane, making its way onto his face like a curling snake, a nasty scowl. He holds his hand out, wanting to hold it. A little unsure, I thread the chain over my head and carefully lay the pendant in his palm.

Bringing it closer to his lap, he glares down at the olive of metal as if it's his best friend reincarnated.

'When we were at the gas station,' I tell him, trying not to remember the blood, 'We argued. He gave it to me after.'

The BANG, the spike of blood, his arms shielding his face as he lay on the floor.

I think... I think I don't like this.

'Can I have it back now?'

His grip turns white.

Feeling a bit like I'm interrupting something that should be private, I don't bother asking again, just reaching ou—

My hand is knocked away. He rears his arm back — Oh, God. My heart, going cold as the snow. — and throws the locket into the fire. It disappears beneath the flames. I exclaim something, a half-word or maybe a shriek, like I've been burned at the same time as the brown thrasher and the photo of my Momma inside. My hands shoot out all on their own to grab for it, but I reel them back in.

I need to— I need to put the fire out. I've gotta smother it with something.

Frantically starting to scoop up handfuls of the snow around us, I think Rick realizes he's made a terrible mistake. He seems to wake up, pushing himself to his feet to try and help me save it, grabbing more, more, and more snow, dumping it onto the fire.

The light goes out all at once, smoke trailing up into the air, a dreadful, blackened smell.

He claws through the pot, wincing as he touches the metal, pulling out the locket.

When he thumbs the door open, the photo is nothing but a stain of soot.

I stand there, too big to fit inside my skin, my everything shaking with a different type of horror.

It's gone.

Rick stares at me, the smoke blowing past him.

My snow globe bulges in all directions like a pulsing heart, silent as ever. The door to the staff room opens over Rick's shoulder, my Dad hugging himself as he steps out. I was supposed to look after her. She was supposed to be safe in there. He's spewing apologies before my Dad even understands what's happened, but he catches on quick. The thing in his hand is my locket. It's ruined.

You did this?, I think he's needling him, or sum' like it. The Hell is wrong wit'chu?

Rick's shaking his head, cradling it like it's a pile of bones he can put back together. I'm sorry. I didn't know.

Just give it back!, I demand.

It's the first time I've tried to speak aloud since losing my hearing, the syllables an awkward tar in my teeth.

I snatch the locket from his grasp, giving the pot a hard kick before storming away.

SLAM.

It wakes everyone up, but I can apologise later, 'cause right now I'm throwing myself onto the mattress and pulling the blanket over my head, sealing myself away from them all. This ain't the farm. I can't just hide away in a tent somewhere, or take a breather in one of the paddocks. I'm stuck in this stuffy room, where I know I'm being stared at even through the blanket. I know how to ignore it.

The locket is a hot coal in my hands, illuminating the dark pocket as the last of the photo smoulders.

A long while passes.

Then, somebody's sittin' down next to me.

They don't move for a long while, just a comforting heat at my side.

Then they lift the blanket up, and it's Dad, pulling it over his head so we're both hiding under it.

'She's gone,' I fill him in before he can ask, just in case he ain't already know. For real, this time.

He saw. 'I know.'

'It was Rick.'

A pause. 'I know.'

'Did you punch him?'

'Did you want me to?'

I think about it for a moment, tracing the smear inside the locket door, before shaking my head. 'No.'

I know it's stupid. It's just a photo, but it was the only one I had. I won't be able to see her face whenever the feeling strikes anymore, or if I find myself missing her more than usual. I'm already committing the photo to memory so I don't forget her face.

'He said Shane gave it to you.' He signs, more of a musing than an accusation. 'I didn't know that.'

I never told him where I got the locket. It could've been from Beth, Maggie, Lori. Anyone but Shane.

No point lying, now. 'Well, now you do.'

'Why did you keep it?'

I don't know. 'I missed him.'

He fails to say anything for a minute or two, but then he picks his hands up again. 'Do you still miss him?'

You're allowed, Carl muttered into my shoulder that night.

'Yeah.'

'You know he was a piece of shit, don't you? '

I scoff through my nose. That ain't even the half of it. 'Yeah. I know.'

He eyes the locket, as if wanting to take it away from me.

My fingers curl around it protectively, holding it to my chest.

It's mine. He's gonna have to fight me for it.

He studies my face for a while, but we both know he's not gonna fight me. No. Instead, he pulls the blanket down, tucking it around my shoulders. I force out a sigh and rest my head on his chest, feeling him stroke his thumb up and down the slope of my cheek.

After the rest of the group see I'm more or less alright, they lay their heads back down.

The window sits there, pulsing orange.

Both the moon and Rick are exactly where they were before. He's back to consulting the stars, this time, without the light.

Author's Note.

So, I've obviously decided to spend a little more time with the group before we reach the prison. I'm anxious to get us to season three, but I just felt like there's some story beats left over from the farm that could use their own space. I hope you enjoyed it! :)

Heads up - You can expect only one more Winter chapter after this one.

Please let me know what you think of the new dialogue format, with everyone using sign language now. It's not permanent, seeing as Harley will have her hearing aids back once the weather gets warmer, but she's still 95% deaf and will rely on ASL most of the time.

It was a bit of a bold move to fully lean into Harley's disability, but in my opinion, it was the only natural progression. I did a bit of googling, and to the best of my knowledge, everything here is anatomically realistic and accurate. Oh, and so is all the ASL! :)

However, there isn't actually a river separating Newnan and Sharpsburg... Shhhh! ;)

One last thing. This story's playlist has gotten quite a lot bigger. Check it out!

I'll be working hard on the next chapter! Thanks for reading 💙

[glitchtricks94]

Little Star

Gyutaro x Human!Reader

Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! It's been awhile since I looked at this editor and not wanted to tear my hair out! I needed a break from a massive fic I'm working on, and a headcannon I have for Gyutaro is that he loves star gazing. One of the few joys in his life, really. So, combining that with a nickname is how this came to be. I ain't countin' words in this one, it's short as fuck by my standards. Enjoy the softer side of my favorite upper moon. So, kick back, relax and enjoy~ -Glitchtricks Edit: part 1 because Tumblr's being a meanie beanie. -_- Link to Part Two at the end!

The stars above filled your eyes, peace settling into the air as you waited for him. The night's cold chill nipped at your shoulders, you tugging your latest gifted haori closer, the black and yellow fabric patterned like clouds in a sky standing out against the sea of navy and gray that clung to the night and buildings around you, the lights of the entertainment district having dimmed or flickered out entirely.

You heard a creak on the old rooftop you sat upon, your gaze being ripped from the little sparkles that filled the sea that was the night sky, expression softening seeing your beloved climb his way up to your perch. "Hey, you." You crooned affectionately, Gyutaro's amber lit eyes landing on your form, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "If it isn't my favorite disgrace." Gyutaro crooned, raspy voice soothing your nerves as he approached, balancing on the tiles that coated the building with practiced expertise to take his rightful place beside you. The upper moon took in your warm expression, how your eyes were always filled with adoration for him whenever your paths seemed to cross. "How am I a disgrace this time, Gyutaro?" You asked, cocking a brow at the demon with a wide grin on your face, your companion taking his place at your side with a throaty laugh. "You let me near you and wear the things I dredge up, you're practically a disgrace of the highest kind just by associating with me." You hummed at his response, leaning against Gyutaro's bicep. "Well, it's not my fault that you always give me such pretty things." You responded, enjoying how Gyutaro looked at you with a confused frown. He could never quite process that you actually enjoyed his company or the things he finds for you, always feeling like he's contaminated them somehow. "And, like I've said before, if being a disgrace means you'll be near, then I don't mind at all." The upper moon rolled his eyes with a scoff, but still slipped his arm around your smaller frame, tugging you closer to him. "You're a weird human." "I'm aware, I'm aware, but you don't mind that, do you?" You asked, looking up at Gyutaro with a cheeky grin, one that made him sigh and hand over a smile. You loved whenever he would relent to you like that, just accepting what he found odd about you in stride. "Can't say I do, little star." He replied, voice laced with fondness. Both of you turned your gazes to the sky again, Gyutaro soon shifting to move you to sit in his lap, your head resting against his broad chest, his ribs digging slightly into your back. A comfort to you. You let out a content hum, Gyutaro settling his arms around your much smaller frame. Time passed, hours being rolled by with hushed whispers of the constellations leaving the two of you, Gyutaro giving you backhanded compliments on your knowledge. You didn't mind that any kind words he gave you were laced with his special brand of venom, it was who he was and you'd be damned if you said you didn't find that at least a little endearing. "Hey, I found Orion." You hummed, Gyutaro grunting and following your gaze. "The myth behind him was interesting. The Greek goddess of the hunt shot him because he was mistaken for prey in some iterations, and if I remember correctly, shot him for being a peeping tom in one." Gyutaro cracked up hearing the second half of your sentence. "How pathetic! Couldn't think with his head, huh?" "Apparently not considering he peeped on a woman who's literally the goddess of hunting, so she's bound to have a sharp shot, and oh, just maybe a bow and arrow on hand." "Those stories you got on the sky get more and more amusing, little star." "Well, I did try and learn a bit more. I mean, I live in the entertainment district, I have to be entertaining, it's my job." "Don't need to much for that given most of the filth that prowls through."

"Those are for the people that pay for it. Not many decent ones come around these days." You spoke, an exasperated laugh leaving you. Gyutaro merely held you tighter to his chest in response. He didn't like that you ended up here, being a courtesan and essentially having to sell yourself, yet there was always that selfish part of him that never wanted you to leave, never wanted to let you slip away. You were so sweet, like candy for his mind, and so very addicting too. You made him forget how miserable he was, grounding him in the now where it was just you, him and the sea of stars glittering above you. "At least I never get the really bad ones twice." Gyutaro couldn't suppress the sadistic smile on his face. He forced it back after a moment, a comfortable silence entrapping the both of you. "Gyutaro?" You called, the upper moon grunting in acknowledgement. "Why do you always call me little star?" He fell silent, looking off into the distance, expression hardening. "I'll...need to explain a few things. You willing to hear all that? You got the time for that shit?"

Little Star Part Two

[loaflovesdoodling]

ooh! can you tell us more about your metadad, perhaps (tumblr isn't letting me use interrogation marks wth)

If it's infodump you want, infodump you shall get! [small fic at the end too because writing is fun :)]

Ok, so, here's the thing:

In my AU Kirby isn't fully Meta Knight's biological child. That being for the simple reason that Nightmare tampered with Meta in the past, screwing his genetics; reason why Meta has wings even without being one of the heroes of Yore. Kirby, being made out of pure light matter is therefore Meta's chronological and -for the most part- biological child, but Nightmare's Influence on Meta basically cut off a lot of genetical/natural ligament with him.

That being said, Meta Knight loves him nontheless, he would literally give his own life away for him and he always tries to make him happy no matter how devastated he himself might be in that moment.

Here are some fun facts!

Meta Knight talks to Kirby about emotional stuff especially when he (the latter) is asleep.

After long and difficult fights with demon beasts, Meta Knight will refuse to go to sleep that day just to watch over Kirby the whole night, fearing that he'll be taken away.

Simply having him hold Kirby close can save Meta Knight from multiple panic attacks.

He spent months learning the perfect intonation and pronounciation of the best lullaby he could find just for Kirby.

He's apparently also very good at sewing (As seen in that one Pengi episode, where everyone sews their penguin disguise by themselves,) and he likes to take advantage of that skill to sew tiny beanies and plush friends for Kirby.

Now, onto the fic! (warning, extreme angst torwards the end)

The young knight had woken up in cold sweat. How could he had fallen asleep so easily?

Surely enough, his dreams hadn't been 'sweet' either: the familiar vision of blood on his hands was all he could remember. Meta Knight shook his head:

"Collect yourself, Meta, be cool. None of these dreams have meaning, you shouldn't take them so seriously." He scolded himself, sighing.

"Perhaps I should start today by putting a smile on; after all, I couldn't possibly give Kirby a bad example-..." He stopped immediately as he turned to the bed only to find no one there. Meta Knight frowned:

"And of course he's already out and about. I should've expected this, he is still a child after all." The knight said. He could not, however, hide the slightest glint of purple worry in his bright golden eyes:

"I'll start looking for him. you'll never know..." He anticipated, trying to justify that overwhelming feeling. Putting on his mask, cape and shoulder pads, he got off the bed and walked over to the counter to wish Sword and Blade a good morning; they, however, weren't present either: disappointed, the soldier walked out the room.

Patrolling Castle DeDeDe's corridors, Meta Knight noticed Dreamland's silence. The oh, so unusual, terrifying silence. He could feel the weight of each one of his quick steps on the cold tiled floor. Almost completely sinking in his own thoughts, he snapped back to reality upon recognizing the figure of Minister Parm's daughter; quickening his pace even more, he walked up to her:

"Fumu."

The young girl jumped: "Oh, it's just you, Sir Meta Knight."

"Have you, ah... perhaps, seen Kirby, this morning?"

"Not really, now that I think of it. Knowing Kirby he's probably out playing with Bun in the yard, though--"

"Thank you for your assistance." Meta interrupted her, before walking away, his subtle rudeness leaving the kid with her eyes widening in surprise.

In his search for the pink warrior, Meta Knight just so happened to come across the throne room. Convinced of the possibility of clues about Kirby's disappearance, he decided to eavesdrop on King DeDeDe's conversation:

"You have our gratitude, King D3."

"Aw yeah, ain't nothing like a deal as great as this one: I get rid of an annoyin' obstacle and y'all give me money fer it!" he cackled.

"I can assure you this decision will not be of any regret."

"It better not be!" he talked back.

"Very well then. I shall take my leave now." The familiar voice said before being cut off by a loud buzzing sound.

"Who knew defeating Kirby had always been as easy as just sending him over at Holy Nightmare? You sure are a genius, your majesty!" the snail added.

Meta Knight's eyes widened in shock, turning into a tint of blue-ish white as he started uncontrollably shaking. So many horrifying thoughts wouldn't leave his mind:

Kirby was gone.

He was in Nightmare's possession.

And God knows what he could've done to him already.

The knight's vision progressively blurring as he started to feel heavy, an increasingly louder heartbeat blocking out every other sound in the castle.

Immediately, Meta Knight awoke, jumping out of his bed. His heart rate completely unsteady, he started grasping for air: his breaths were dangerously short and fast, and he couldn't even feel his now shaking hands anymore. He gazed over to the other side of the bed: Kirby was there, he was safe, all that happened was just a horrible nightmare. He quickly picked up the sleeping child and wrapped him tightly in his arms: the warmth of his son's fragile little body transferring onto him as his breath started steadying. Calming down, the knight fell back asleep.

Sorry if it's a little long and incoherent, haha. This is my first fic <3

[gabykatttt]

The boy is mine

Omg I love your beanie the girl said in the flirty tone.

Aww thank you Ritz said.

Veneer just looked at the girl with a disgusted look on his face.

Are you single? The girl asked.

Well I have a- Ritz was cut off by the song Veneer wrorte.

Veneer 🎶🎤

How can it be? You and me

Might be meant to be, can't unsee it

But I don't wanna 'cause no scene

I'm usually so unproblematic

So independent

Tell me why

'Cause the boy is mine, mine

Somethin' about him is made for somebody like me

Baby, come over, come over (oh my)

And God knows I'm tryin', but there's just no use in denying

The boy is mine

I can't wait to try him

Le-let's get intertwined

The stars, they aligned

The boy is mine

Watch me take my time

I can't believe my mind

The boy is divine

Boy is mine

Please know this ain't what I planned for

Probably wouldn't bet a dime or my life on

There's gotta be a reason why

My girls, they always come through in a sticky situation

Say, "It's fine" (it's fine)

Happens all the time

Somethin' about him is made for somebody like me

Baby, come over, come over (oh my)

And God knows I'm tryin', but there's just no use in denying

The boy is mine

I can't wait to try him

Le-let's get intertwined

The stars, they aligned

The boy is mine

Watch me take my time

I can't believe my mind

The boy is divine

Boy is

And I know it's simply meant to be

And I, I take full accountability for all these years

Promise you I'm not usually

Like this, shit, it's like news to me, to me

But I can't ignore my heart, boy (the boy is mine)

I can't wait to try him (oh)

Le-let's get intertwined

The stars, they aligned

The boy is mine

Watch me take my time

I can't believe my mind

The boy is divine

Boy is mine

Veneer goes to Ritz and kisses him on the lips.

Ritz blushed as he holding Veneer’s hand and walked off.

Veneer looked at the girl with deadly pink eyes and smiles sinisterly.

The boy is mine Veneer said turning away from the girl still holding Ritz

@simplydannie @once-ler-ask-blog153 @horrorartist23 @brozonelovergirl

[carouselofmusess]

@townofcadence from here

"Thanks for coming out with me." Artair hums, as he drops his messenger bag on the dining room table. It's all he has with him, and it flops over forlornly once gravity takes out the support of one of its sides. Artair glances Caesar's way with a small smile, as he shucks off one boot under the table, followed by the other. "Honestly..... I do want to check the place out thoroughly, just in case. But it's kind of... nice? I mean, there's no sense of impending doom on entry or blood dripping from the walls, so that's always a plus." Still, he keeps an eye around him, as he adds his socks to the shoes. This place was well known for disappearing campers, to a degree that many claimed had to be supernatural. He wasn't so sure, what with the downright homey atmosphere and lack of anything that felt buzzy or wrong, but he can't just rely on his instincts. Still, though, even the emf reader doesn't let off so much as blip, and none of the rooms seem to have cold-spots. The lights haven't even flickered, and he hasn't heard even the faintest whisper. The floors have rugs, and the inside of the cabin is warm, almost toasty, from a running fire. It feels cozy, really, more than anything. It reminds him of something, but he shakes it away with a turn of his head, taking in the overhead ceiling, and the shape of each log the built this place. "And hey, looks like we might be spider free. So double bonus."

A soft half-chuckle comes from him as he re-enters the area a few moments after Artair, hands tucked comfortably in his jacket pockets. Caesar shrugs, an easy smile on his face. "Really think I oughta be the one thankin' you fer lettin' me tag along, sweetheart." The smile seeps into his voice and comes out like warm honey, as loving eyes watch over Artair's movements. "You know I'm awful nostalgic fer places like this'n here."

Caesar didn't bring too much out of the norm with him, except for a few things. He had given Artair some homemade jerky to keep in that fancy bag of his, so all he really had was his cell phone and a knife holstered onto his belt. He'd also dressed up a bit extra for the trip too, donning a thick coat and a warm beanie. Not that he would necessarily need either, but he was fond of the idea of keeping the articles warm just in case Artair needed anything extra himself.

"Gettin' awfully comfy fer someone who ain't fully at ease yet, aint'cha?" He prods playfully, swinging around so he can toss an extra log into the fire. "Seems alright t' me too though I reckon. I ain't quite as in-tune with all this nonsense y' get yerself into, but I ain't got any of them heebie-jeebies yet." His head turns back towards the other then, flashing a toothy grin. "Ain't even any undead caretakers seekin' t' steal all a' yer warmth or nothin'."

[ajaxpetropolisismyhusband]

First time with Ajax

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, Fluff, After-care, Cuteness overload tbh

Happy new year guys🥳🎉and Enjoy!

Ajax was very scared to put his dick in you

"Babe, it will only hurt a bit at first but then ill be fine."

He still wouldn't budge

"Y/N, i will never forgive myself if i hurt you"

He ended up giving in anyway because he's a horny mf 💀

Y/n teased him about it the whole week

Ajax is very gentle at first

He wouldn't rush into sex

He would take you on a date and keep on asking you if it's what you wanted, before he profoundly pounds into your petite body

He would take his time getting to know your body

He would kiss you gently

He would try and find the sweet spots on your neck and practically abuse them until they were nice and dark

He would also check how rough you would want him to go during missionary position

"Mm harder AJ, please,"

That's all it took for him to pound the soul out of you

Your moans would be music to his ears

And he wouldn't like it one bit if you were too quiet

Heck! he wanted the whole school to hear you

"Cmon baby, i want to hear those pretty little noises again"

That boy would do anything just to hear a tiny whimper or muffled moan

Man he could listen to your voice all day

He would always ask you if every movement he did was okay

"Is this okay baby?" "Yes babe." "How about this?" "Yes Ajax, can we just enjoy this moment right now?" "Okay, but is this the right pace?" "YES, NOW STOP TALKING DAMNIT!"

Ajax would laugh on how annoyed you could get

But it also turned him on

He loves dominating you though

The way you look all hot and messy under him

Oh and how you LOVE being submissive

The way his eyes would turn darker every time you looked up at him moaning

Each noise that came out of you would motivate him to go faster

After some time you both would know what positions you prefer aswell

so you would just repeat them

For Ajax, he loved the classic missionary position

But at some point he would love for you to take over

It's probably because he can reach your boobs better and play with them while your going up and down the guy

For you, you love the reverse cowgirl position

Mostly because Ajax could take off his beanie and get comfortable on the pillow

Another position you love was when he takes you from behind

Again, he can let his snakes out

But its more pleasure for you tbh

You ain't no complain box when it comes to it

You're surprised how good he is though

He told you he never been that intimate with his previous girlfriends than he has been with you

It's like the boy was born with amazing skills

You both agreed on 2-3 rounds

You both ended up doing 5

Yes you were a shaking mess

Yes he still wanted another round

But just jacked off onto your stomach

Because again, we got a horny mf with us folks

After-care is sweet

After Ajax would catch his breath, he would start to clean you up

Your clothes were either ripped or missing

But either way, Ajax would want you to wear his clothes

He would ask you if it was good

And you praised him like hell

He was proud of himself for copping a sweet lil boo thang like you

He would get a few extra blankets and pillows and literally trap you in them

Then he would put on a movie

Probably Monsters VS Aliens because it's officially monster season with the hyde out n all

Nothing to worry about of course

Though Ajax would just cuddle you until you fell asleep

And you would wake up with something poking you from underneath

I mean, the fact that guy wakes up horny too is impressive

But even after that, you cant get enough of him.

[anneimaginesundertale]

Oh oh oh, I got a cute one! Someday and Sansy, think Sansy would practice his routine with her ^-^

Sansy poked his head into the playroom and grinned. Someday had set up all the stuffed animals in rows and was standing in front of them as if she was on a stage. His niece had put on a big blue jacket and pink fluffy slippers, and she had a beanie on her little skull.

"Thank you," she said to her plush audience. "Telling all my jokes makes me really tired, so I have to go take a big long nap now! Yaaaay!"

Sansy clapped his hands as Someday took a bow. "Sorry I missed the show," he said, walking into the room. "Sounded like you had a real good set there."

"Uncle Sansy!" All show-based weariness forgotten, the little girl rushed into her uncle's arms. She hugged him tightly and beamed up at him. "I'm you!" she said. "I did all your jokes!"

"Oh well now I'm really sorry I missed it," Sansy said, hugging her back. "Would you do it again for me?"

"Maybe later," she said, slumping against him. "I'm tired. But I didn't wanna take a nap with the twins, so Mama said play quiet."

"I see." He scooped her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. At four, she was just starting to get really tall, her long legs so similar to her daddy's. "You think I could do a show for you then?" he asked. "I got some new material I need to test on my best critic."

"Yeah, I guess we can do that," she said, nestling her head against his shoulder. "You put me down in the front row."

"As you wish, cher." He cuddled her for a moment and carefully picked his way across the room to put her in the front row of the plushies, moving a few of them to new seats to accomodate the guest of honor. Someday sat down criss cross and pushed her pink glasses up her nasal bone.

"I'm ready for the show!" she declared.

Sansy took his spot on the "stage". "Hey everybody, it's Sansy!"

"Yaaaay! Hi Sansy!" Someday clapped and Sansy gave a little bow.

"So glad to be here in the Playroom, doin' the naptime show. I heard we got a very special guest in the audience this afternoon -- my oldest niece, Miss Someday Joy Gaster! This little lady is four years old and already a comedian. Her daddy asked me how she got so good and I told him, bro, it's obvious. She inherited your funny bones!"

Someday (and the stuffed audience) cheered and clapped.

Sansy continued. "I'm tellin' ya, folks, this little girl gives me my best material. She is one humerus little lady, and when she's with me, she always wants to practice jokes. She'll tell me knock knock jokes. She goes, Knock knock!" He pretended to knock. "I say, Who's there? I'm expecting somethin' silly and little kiddish, like Poop, but this girl is too good for preschool jokes! She goes, Someday. Now folks, that's her own name. I think, oh, maybe she forgot how these jokes go. Nope. I go, Someday who? And folks, this little girl--my favorite four year old in the whole wide world--she goes, Someday my prince will come! And she sings it! In a beautiful little voice. I ain't even doin' it justice here. And I just fall over laughing."

In the audience, someone had fallen over. Big Mr. Ted, who had been seated next to Someday, was flat on his fluffy face. Sansy watched Someday lay down next to him, on her side so she could still see him. Her sockets were starting to droop.

Sansy kept going. "I got so many Someday stories," he said. "She comes home from pre-k one day and tells me another new joke. She says, Why did the chicken cross the road? I say, I dunno, baby. To get to the other side? She says, No! No, Uncle! He crossed the road to get to his uncle's house to hear him be silly. I say, baby, don't you ever cross the road to get hear me being silly. She looks at me and she goes, Oh, I don't hafta cross the road. You be silly right in my house! All day long. And I'm on the floor laughing again."

Someday's sockets were closed. Big Mr. Ted was doing double duty as a pillow. Sansy lowered his voice. "That's all the time we got today, folks. Somebody's gotta take a big ol' nap. Actually, two somebodies. Thank you. You been a great crowd."

He took a little bow that turned turned into a crouch. Carefully, he scooped up Someday and Mr. Ted. She cuddled against his chest. "All done?" she mumbled.

"All done, sweet girl. You're my best audience." He kissed her little forehead. "You wanna nap in your room?"

"I wan' your bed."

"You got it, sweetheart."

"You nap too?"

"I sure will." He carried her out of the playroom to his bedroom. It was neater than it used to be. Laundry in the hamper, trash in the trashcan. Most of the mess was the kids' toys, which had migrated into his room (and everywhere else in the house). He lay down on the bed with Someday, letting the little girl cuddle against him.

From this position, he could see his wall of sticky notes. In the very center of it was a big poster-sized sticky note (courtesy of Anne's classroom). On it was a crayon masterpiece depicting a lady in purple, a tall skeleton with glasses, a short skeleton in a blue jacket and a beanie, and three little skeletons. Among the hearts and stars drawn around it were two words, written in the shaky hand of a precocious pre-kindergartener. My family. Sansy's soul felt like it was going to explode with happiness as he drifted off to sleep with his little niece in his arms.

[chimerinshine]

I am back and have a week of vacation before...the school day again...ahem anyways, i have a come back also in my childhood short film titled "The Lonesome Ghosts" it was released at the year of 1937. So we will gonna have a topic about them in this day, ya know some fanon thing.

Canonically,

In 1937 short film originally the 4 was called only The Ghosts or Ghosts or Lonesome Ghosts. Which when look in their files it reveals originally in 1937 they have names such as Jasper, Grubb, Boo and Moss but never mentioned in the film. While at other stuff especially at games they have different names and numbers so here's a thing (gonna start with individuals to extras)

👻🎩 Jasper

He is the chubby and tall one (next to the short ghost) he was described as the smartest and leader to the 4. (Canonically)

He also the eldest and matured one

His name was derived from precious stone or precious treasure

At life he was the 1st child of his mother so she adored him so much that's why she give him name Jasper

He always gives commands on his brothers which is the other 3 ghosts

He has a collection of different stones the shiny and the rarest one was his favorites he always keep that into his secret collection room which can be found at the underground floor

As having matured mind he is 50-50 of being a prankster (as we can see in the short film he literally knock on Mickey's head like several times just to annoy him and race him in the 2nd floor)

He just rides on his brothers pranking sides so that they will not think he is a kill joy himself

He is self concious sometimes since Grub was more responsible and looking have good leader ship he always let him lead the stuff.

In his lonesome time he just go to sleep or read some book

As a ghost himself, one of his favorite hobbies is to have some scare

His hat was in Bowler Style

👻🚬 Grubb

He is the shortest ghost and love to fish in sardines (well ain't that weirdly cute) (canonically)

Even though it is true that he is short he just hate to be called that especially when you mention him the word "Cute size" or "Beanie" so what he gonna do to ya if that happens? Well he will float or just add some level with his brothers back and give you a slap and smoke out of ya

In his lonesome moments, he just entertain himself by fishing on the sardines when you look at the can is either empty and has cobwebs on it which is...weird.. sometimes he just watch the Grubs crawls over or make them have a grub race

He also the 2nd eldest in the group and more matured than others

He is the most responsible on them and takes the lead the most

In his other hobbies he love to get in the old trees or logs to collect some grubs yes it derives from his name too (small, squishy worm)

Some of his grubs has names especially the rarest ones

Just like his brothers he is a prankster, how he make pranks well by physically pranking livings (like literally in short film the poor Donald was hit in his Duck Butt several times and been spit by a cold water)

His tabacco the little cigarette thing was infinite and unlimited like no matter what you do in it it just keeps popping a new how? Well for example if he goes to a place where smoking isn't allowed and he still wanted it and ya get rid of it he just gonna pull out a new like he literally carries it

His hat was Stovepipe Style

👻⛓Boo

He is the one who scares off Donald in the film (canonically)

From his name Boo he is most who love to scare livings

He has a bad attitude but he can be sometimes nice

He love pranking people by making loud noises ON. PURPOSEEE..(the more louder the scarier and more funnier to him)

He is the 3rd one in the group talk about middle child he is

His hobby is take someone's dishes and grab some chains just to use it for his pranks not on some chores. Make him do chores he will say yes but with a mess

In his lonesome times he just spent his own time on cards a self solitaire thing

He was good making scary laughs and so ghostly stuffs but never good at making good at all

His twin brother is only couple minutes older but he consider himself as older than him

His hat was on Top Hat Style

👻⛰Moss

He is the 4th one and the youngest of the group

He is a complete opposite of his twin brother.

In 4 of them, he is quiet and all nice

Even he is a ghost secretively he has passion inside (a little sprinkle of symphaty and emphaty) well only for his brothers

He is an introvert and immature

In lonesome time, he has a rock collection and draw a face on it and let a moss grew on it just like a pet he talks to them or he just grab some new paper and read on it (canonically)

His hobbies is to collect different fungus, mushrooms especiallt moss. Is either he collects it to eat it or just make it as a pet

In all his good attitude on brothers he is very mean just like his brothers he love to mock and copies others as prank. Especially when he believes...they are..stupid (just like he did in the film on poor Goofy he mocks him and pull him and yeah roll him down)

With his immature behavior he is like the toddler who is trying to mess with you

He always get Grub get in his back if Grub wanted to be tall or level in someone

He wears a hat top hat style

👻Extras:

•Moss and Boo are twins and somewhat opposite

When Moss forget about his rocks or left it somewhere when Boo finds it he takes it with him and throw it in the nearest lake he can find

Jasper sometimes can be greedy

Actually all of them can be mean and greedy since they never learn to socialize at all

They got invited in Haunted Mansion but they never actually came from some reason (Almost Canonically)

They all biologically brothers

Their parents live in the Haunted Mansion around somewhere

As we can see in the game called Epic Mickey not 1 2 or 3 or 4 ghosts are there but more than 4 and they all look the same you can't even tell which one or who is who their names is Ian, Screeching Sam, Gilbert and so forth (Canonically)

Their family numbers might be like the Beagles (Canonicallyy?)

Since they are ghosts they can be neutral like can be on good side or bad side

They afraid of what opposites them (being a cutie) (canonically in The Wonderful World Of Mickey Mouse episode)

They sometimes forgetting they are ghost too or they just afraid in more scarier and sinister ghosts

Their deaths is still a mystery is either they also murdered by the Hat Box Ghost or Died in cold or they just otyer supernatural creature who takes forms

In their mansion they had everything in control well as a toony ghosts ofc why not?

They are 50-50 on being mean and friendly but most mean

From their title LONESOME they get easily to be bored and when they find someone interesting they just prank them and scare them especially living

Since they are ghosts and already dead they don't feel pain at all or don't need to consume at all or take bath or what. But if they wanted to or just playing along they have to consume and feel pain

Sometimes as a pranksters they don't really understand what is pain or danger is cause..ya know they already dead they like immortals unlike a being they need to becareful and save lives. While to them they just being careless on livings

[ilikemicrowaves]

@grrgrrgrr finally finished the fanfic! Sorry if there's any mistakes or misunderstandings about the au! Hope you like it.

Setting:Pizza restaurant

As decative Duck and Red walk into the doorway of the pizza restaurant the smell of pizza and breadsticks wrapped around the air. They sat down at their table and looked at the menu for a while.

"We only have 50 bucks so we gotta make this cheep."

Said Duck.

"They have pineapple pizza for only $12? Make that shit crap 50 cents its horrible."

Said Red.

"I say we get the pepperoni pizza with breadsticks and water for only $23."

Said Duck.

"Wait, if it's only $23 that means we're only getting 1 basket of breadsticks, there's only 4 per basket you moron. An extra $5 ain't gonna hurt."

Duck and Red argued back and forth until the waitress came to get their order. The waitress was almost as short as Duck but a little bit higher. She wore a small green beanie that said "Food Gang" on it.

"Hi, are you guys ready to order or do you need a minute?"

Asked the waitress.

Red glared at duck. Duck sighed and ordered.

"We'll have the pepperoni pizza with two baskets of breadsticks and some water please."

Said Duck.

"Alright, your water will be out shortly and the pizza will be about a 20 minute wait."

Said the waitress.

The waitress walked away and into the kitchen.

"She looked familiar didn't she?"

Asked Duck.

"Hmm, kinda but why would it matter anyways? We have work to do after this, we can't stay and talk."

Said Red.

"No, no, not like an old friend or anything, one of our suspects."

Red thought for a bit.

"Yeah I quess your right, but were on break and I'd prefer to actually sit and eat and not terrorize a food can in case she's not one of our suspects."

Said Red.

"You still have the files with you right?"

Asked Duck.

Red sighed and grabbed his bag.

"Guess breaks over."

Red mumbled to himself. He pulled a file out of the bag and placed it on the table.

"Sally Spinach Can" it read. They opened the file and started reading

"Oh, she's a 17 yrs old. Why would they put her as a suspect for kidnapping two adults?"

Asked Red.

"Maybe because she's been in a gang that kidnapped people and force fed them?"

Pointed out Duck

"Oh, wasn't expecting that. But she seems a lot better though, how long ago was that?"

Asked Red

"4 yrs ago."

Said Duck.

The waitress came back with the waters. She saw the files and dropped the drinks.

"Oh, so your the investigators I've been hearing about."

Said Sally.

Duck and Red looked at each other then Sally.

"Um yes, mind if we interview you for a moment?"

Asked Red

Sally sighed and grabbed a chair from another table to sit.

"I know why your here."

She said gloomy.

"Oh, well can you tell us where you were the night Lesley went missing?

"I was at my friend Betty's house when we where having a girls night."

Said Sally.

"How do you know Lesley?:

Asked Duck.

"I ordered some Yarn from her for a school project me and Betty were working on. I new her husband Roy who was a puppeteer that I bought some puppets off of."

Answered Sally. Sally Ansered every question they had until a loud DING was made.

"Sally, the breasticks have been sitting here a while! What are you doing?"

Asked a strangers voice from the kitchen. It was Franky (the fridge from dhmis 5)

"You know Steve's not gonna be happy if he finds out"

Said Franky.

"Sorry!" Said Sally. "I'm getting them right now."

Sally got up and grabbed the breadsticks.

"Sorry about that guys."

She said.

"Don't be,"

Said Duck.

"Your busy being interviewed by us."

Sally sat back down.

"Is there anything else you need me too answer?"

Duck and Red looked at the files.

"I dont think so."

Said Red.

"OK, I'll go get you more water."

Sally picked up the cups and straws off the floor and threw them away. She grabbed some paper towels and wiped up the water.

"Heres your water."

Sally sat the new filled cups on the table.

"Thank you,."

Said Red.

"By the way, do you know where we can find this guy?"

Red pulled out a picture of somebody who seemed to have a Computer for a head.

Sally studied the picture for a bit.

"Beats me, but my dear friend Franky might!"

Sally went into the kitchen and came back out with Franky.

"Hey, I'm Franky."

He said

"Do you know the guy in this picture?"

Asked Red once again.

"Hmm.." Franky searched through his brain for this familiar face.

"Oh, that's Colin. He owns a CD shop a few blocks from here. He's a really nice guy."

Red put the picture back in his bag.

"Thanks for the help."

Red said.

Suddenly a the loud sound of pans falling came from the kitchen.

"Oh no, I think that kids back."

Said Sally

Franky ran to the kitchen yelling "Hey you can't take that!"

"Kid?"

Asked Duck.

"This yellow guy keeps sneaking in the back and taking our pizza. I've tried to catch him so I can get him something to eat without stealing but he's too quick."

Duck and Red looked at each other with realization.

"Do they have blue hair?"

Asked Duck.

"Yeah, how did you know?"

Asked Sally.

Red looked at Duck.

"We got him."

Said Red.

"What?"

Asked Sally.

Red and Duck got up out of their seats and headed for the kitchen.

"That's Lesley and Roy's kid, he Escaped the orphanage about a week ago"

Said Red.

"Oh, well go him hurry!"

Said Sally

Red and Duck ran to the kitchen and out the back door were Franky had the kid in a corner by the dumpster in the alley way.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, come here and I can get you food."

The kid hesitated but took a step closer. He seen Red and Duck and ran through Frankys legs to them. Red lifted his arm as the kid hid behind him.

"Looks like he likes you"

Said Duck.

"Oh, hey their little guy, uh, his name was David right?"

"That guy is scary."

Said David

"I'm scary?"

Asked Franky.

"We need to get you back to the orphanage bud, it's safer there."

Said Red

"No! I don't wanna go back! Their mean to me!"

Said David

"Let's get him something to eat, he looks hungry."

Said Duck.

Red guy looked hesitant, but picked up David.

"You know what," Red said. "Your right, then we go to the orphanage.

The word orphanage made David whimper.

"Please don't make me go back, it's scary there."

Red and Duck looked at each other.

"I would love to stay and chat but I think your guys pizza is burning."

Franky ran inside as the smell of burnt pizza filled the alley way.

The smell made David's stomach growl.

"Can I have um, can I eat pizza?"

David asked.

"Of course, you haven't eaten in days have you?

Red, Duck, and David went inside and sat back at

the table.

Sally brought out the pizza and sat at the table.

"Thank you"

Said David.

"Aww, he's adorable. Said Sally. "Where's he going after this?"

Asked Sally.

"I think I'm gonna take him to my place, if he's really scared of the orphanage than I'm not gonna send him back."

Responded Red.

Duck, Red and David finished their meal and headed out after they paid.

"Come back sometime soon! It was nice meeting you guys."

Said Sally.

"We will."

said Duck

"See ya around."

Said Red.

"Bye bye Sally!"

Said David.

They all walked put the door into late night not knowing what was a head of them.