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bradshawsbaby · 2 years

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Letters to My Love // Part II

Georgia on My Mind

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: When you signed up to volunteer with the USO, you never anticipated that you would meet a man like Ensign Robert Floyd. Fate brings you together one balmy spring evening in Charleston—the night before Bob is set to ship off across the Atlantic. Pen and paper become your only means of sharing your heart with the naval aviator who’s captivated it, igniting a correspondence that spans the distance between you. Can love blossom even as war rages and thousands of miles keep you apart?

Word Count: 2.2k

Author’s Note: For those of you who may not be aware, the United States established an emergency wartime agency known as the Office of Censorship during World War II. The purpose of the agency was to censor any sensitive information contained in letters being exchanged between servicemembers and their loved ones, in case the letters fell into enemy hands. Information that could have been censored included specific locations, as well as information regarding supplies and military operations. For the sake of authenticity, you may see some of this censorship in Bob’s letters.

Set the Mood: If you’re looking for some 1940s vibes, check out the playlist I made to pair with the story!

The title for this chapter comes from the Glenn Miller song of the same name.

Dedication: Dedicated as always to @luminousnotmatter, who gives the best pep talks when I’m psyching myself out!

Warnings: Alternating POV, references to war, Bob being a sweet cinnamon roll, lots of fluff.

May 28, 1942

To the Sweet Peach from Georgia,

Hi. How are you?

Gosh, that’s a terrible way to start a letter, isn’t it? I’ve tried a hundred times to come up with something more clever or witty, but each time, I’ve ended up scrapping it and I think pretty soon the Navy is going to have something to say about the amount of paper I’ve wasted. This is the farthest I’ve gotten, and I think I’m just going to have to stick with it.

I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long to write this. I know it’ll take even longer for you to get it. I hope you haven’t forgotten me by now. I’m sure there’s been plenty of other lucky fellas who have been clamoring for your hand at the USO dances since I shipped out. And if you don’t feel like writing back, please know that you don’t have to. I’m already in your debt for the wonderful night we shared, and I’ll always be thankful to you for making my last night back home so special. If that’s all I get—well, I’m a lucky man indeed.

I think back on that night all the time. Paul, Tommy Boy, and Benny—you remember them?—they won’t let me forget it. Even if I wanted to (which I certainly don’t), they wouldn’t let me forget. That’s another reason why it took me so long to write you—though my mother always taught me not to make excuses. But every time I would sit down and try, the boys would razz me about how I owe them big time for us meeting. They seem to want to take all the credit for dragging me to the dance that night.

Don’t tell them I said this, but I think they’re right. Going to the dance that night was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, and I’m glad the fellas convinced me to do it.

Now that they consider themselves the saviors of the night, they’ve been trying to give me tips on what to say to you in my letter—the only letters I’ve ever really written are to my parents and little brothers, so I guess they think I could use the help. According to Tommy Boy, I should spend the whole letter telling you how beautiful you are and complimenting each and every one of your features. He’s not wrong, but I worry I’d never be able to finish writing the letter if I did that. Benny’s advice doesn’t really bear repeating—Paul smacked him over the head for it, if that gives you any indication.

Paul is the one who told me to write from the heart—to just tell you anything that comes to mind, like we’re having a conversation. Kind of like that night when you took me on the stroll down King Street. I’ve never found it as easy to talk to anyone as I did that night, so I figure Paul’s onto something there. I’ve decided to take his advice, much to Tommy Boy’s and Benny’s annoyance.

I know the war is probably the last thing you want to be thinking about, but I figured I should maybe update you on where I am. Or maybe that’s too presumptuous on my part. If it is, I apologize. I’m not sure if they’ll even let me tell you this, but my squadron has officially arrived in [REDACTED]. This isn’t exactly how I imagined my first time in Europe would be, but we’re safe at the moment and I suppose that’s all I can really hope for right now. It’s certainly given my mother some peace of mind, which I’m thankful for.

You want to know something? Every time I’m feeling a little down, or missing something about home, I think back to that little ice cream parlor in Charleston and the way your smile lit up when I somehow managed to make you laugh, and things don’t seem so dark and dreary anymore. I still have that little ice cream cone wrapper you gave me, by the way—the one with your address? I have it tucked away in my trunk as a memento from my last night stateside. I know I’ve said it already, but I would say it a thousand times more—thank you for that night. It meant more to me than you could ever know.

Okay, I think that’s enough rambling on about myself. How have you been? I hope you’ve been well. I hope there are days when you forget this war is even happening, though I know that’s a rather tall order. I hope you smile and laugh every day, because you really do have the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen—Tommy Boy is rudely peeking over my shoulder right now and he approves of that compliment.

How are Dottie and Paddy and little Frankie? I remember that Frankie is only a month or so younger than Paul, Jr., so I imagine that they’ll be hitting a lot of their milestones around the same time. Paul received a letter from home just yesterday, and Natasha was happy to report that their boy has been laughing up a storm as of late. Paul was proud as could be to tell us all, but I think he’s a little sad, too, that he’s missing it. I still try to remind him that he’ll see them again soon.

Would you mind passing along my best to Paddy? Tell him I’m looking forward to another card game the next time I’m in Goose Creek. That goes for all the fellas in the squadron.

I’m including an address where you can send any letters you’d like to write. Again, please don’t feel like you have to. But if you’d like to, you can send your letters to Washington and they’ll make sure they get to me, wherever I am.

I’m sending you all my very best from across the Atlantic, and I hope you’re doing well, whatever you may be up to at this very moment.

Stay safe and, if it’s not too much trouble, maybe spare a thought for us every once in a while? It sure would mean a lot, especially coming from someone as special as you.

Sincerely Yours,

Ensign Robert Floyd

AKA, Bobby

June 12, 1942

Dear Bobby,

I admit that I’ve never been one for letter writing myself—funny that two people who seem to have no knack for dancing or writing letters seem to have found each other—but I think that “Hi. How are you?” is a perfectly lovely way to start a letter.

I’ll start mine by answering your question—I’m doing very well, thank you. And I’ll even ask a question of my own—how are you? I know you said in your letter that you were safe, wherever you may be in Europe—they did censor it—and I hope very much that that’s still the case.

I was so happy to receive your letter in the mail. It was the loveliest surprise! I know you had promised to write, and I believe you to be a man of your word, but I suppose there was a part of me that worried, like you, that that night in Charleston was the only night we’d have. If so, I’d more than cherish the memories, but I admit that hearing from you put a big smile on my face.

Of course I remember Paul, Tommy Boy, and Benny! They sound like they would get on quite well with Dottie—she’s still very smug about the role that SHE played in our meeting that night. According to my big sister, we have her to thank for twisting my arm until I signed up to volunteer with the USO, without which we, according to her, never would have stumbled upon each other at the dance. Paddy teases her all the time that she gives herself too much credit, and that soon her head is going to get so big, it isn’t going to fit through the door. Naturally, she’s the one who went to fetch the mail the day your letter arrived and you should have seen the way she tormented me, dancing around the house with it like a child on Christmas morning—if I didn’t love her so much, I really would have absolutely screamed.

Dottie should probably be the newest member of your squadron—just like your friends, she’s been very insistent on providing lots of unsolicited advice about what I should include in my letter. She’s an absolute doll, but she often seems to forget that she and I are very different people, and that includes when it comes to letter writing. But I will take some of her advice, and let you know that the night we met was wonderful, and I’m just as grateful for the time we got to spend together. I’ve heard “Someone to Watch Over Me” a few times since that night, and every time, I can’t help but think of you.

I rather like Paul’s advice though—to write as though we’re having a conversation. I feel the same way that you do. Talking to you that night was so easy. I meant what I said on that bench on King Street—I feel as though I’ve known you so much longer than that one night. I like the idea of continuing our conversation through our letters. Just like with our dancing, I suppose we’ll help each other get the hang of it, right?

The thought of you still having that silly little ice cream cone wrapper makes me smile. Please don’t be surprised by that—you truly do have a knack for making me smile and laugh. And if the remembrance of that night can make the darkness of this war feel any lighter—even for just a moment—then I’m so glad. We’re all doing okay back here in Charleston, and I hope with all my heart that you are as well, wherever you may be right now.

Paddy’s been working long hours, and he’s often exhausted when he comes home at night, but today is one of his rare days off, so he took Dottie and Frankie on a walk to the park. He shot me a wink as they were leaving—I think he was purposely trying to get my sister out of the house so that I could write my letter to you without her “helpful” assistance. They’re all doing very well though, thank you for asking! Paddy said he’s more than ready for a match of Rummy when you all get home.

Paul must be bursting with pride in his family—though we didn’t speak long at the dance, I could tell how much he loves Natasha. If it’s even possible, I’m sure he loves his children even more. Being separated from them must be so hard, but he’s so lucky to have a wonderful friend like you. I remember what you said about the two of you always having each other’s backs. That’s important, especially at a time like this. I hope and pray that you always will be there for each other, and that you’ll help each other get home. Same goes for all your friends.

I’m not sure if this will be helpful to you at all, and if it’s not please let me know, but I thought I might describe for you what the day is like today in Charleston to give you a taste of home. Well, I know that Charleston isn’t really home for you, but since I can’t get to Iowa at the moment, I thought this might be the next best thing. I’m sitting at our table in the kitchen right now, and the window and back door are open. It’s a sunny day here in Charleston, though it is rather brutally hot. South Carolina tends to get that way this time of year. It reminds me quite a bit of summers back home in Georgia—by the way, I was touched to see that you remembered. Maybe one day we’ll get to enjoy some Georgia peaches together. Anyway, the birds are chirping outside—it’s still fairly early in the day, so there is a light breeze. I wish I could bottle up some of this good weather and send it to you, but since I can’t, please know that I’m hoping the sun is shining down on you right now. I know you need good weather for flying.

Bobby, I want you to know that that night at the dance was very special to me, too. You keep thanking me, but I feel like I should be the one thanking you. I’ve volunteered at a couple dances since then, but none have been anywhere near as wonderful. I’ll be saving a dance for you, for when you come home. If you’d like, that is.

I think of you and your friends every day, and I wish nothing more than your safe return. Thank you for your service, Bobby. Thank you for fighting to keep us safe.

I hope this letter gets to you soon, and I look forward to hearing back from you.

All my best,

The Sweet Peach from Georgia

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman #WWII AU #1940s AU

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hockeyandhrsepwr · 2 years

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How on Earth?

*The boys try to embarrass Eddy, but things don’t go the way they expect*

The hockey boys are at a house party and have decided to spice the evening up with a little game of truth or dare.

“Eddy, your turn” Luke says and the boy rolls his eyes. “Dare.”

“Okay, think of the cheesiest pick up line you can, then say it to a girl of our choice & try to get a date.” The boys start snickering and looking around the room. “Her!” Duke points to a group of girls chatting in the corner “Bruh there’s four of them. Be specific.” He rolls his eyes. “The redhead in the black top. 20 bucks you can’t get her number.”

“Ooh, 30 he gets shut down right away.” Luke pipes up.

“15 he can’t get a dance with her” Comes from Mark

“Wow guys, thanks for the support.” Eddy flips them off as he makes his way towards the girl.

Duke snickers and the guys ask him what’s funny “She’s in my management class. Ive asked her out before but she said she doesn’t like athletes. And she definitely saw him over here with me.” He rubs his hands together. “There no way he doesn’t get shut down.”

Y/n POV

You’re standing chatting to a few friends that lived in your first year dorm, when someone taps you on the shoulders. Your friends are smirking and you turn to see Ethan Edwards, one of the hockey players. You know a few of them from classes but haven’t met him yet. You can see Dylan over his shoulder smirking. Oh shit, he’s wearing glasses. They’re my weakness, especially given how cute he is even without them.

Ethan POV

Holy shit she’s hot. The girl looks up at me questioningly. I’ve forgot what I’m supposed to say.

Y/n POV

He clears his throat

“Sorry, I just had to come over & say, my eyesight may be crap, but I can still see you’re an absolute catch. “

It takes a second but you laugh. “Really?”

His face falls, so you rush to finish “It was cute!” And his face perks back up. “So if I asked you if you want to grab a drink?” “Now or another time?”

He smiles “hopefully both?”. Damn he’s cute. You smile back.

“How about coffee tomorrow morning?” You wink

“That sounds good! Can I get your number so we can sort it out?” “I’m thinking more we could maybe grab one now at my place and then see…” you trail off, hoping he’s picking up what you’re putting down. It takes a sec, but he seems to get it & blushes. He nods, dopey grin on his face. “I’d like that”

“Okay, Why don’t you give me a few minutes to tell my friends I’m leaving & then ill come grab you”

He nods & heads back to the boys as you walk off in search of your party buddy.

No one POV

Ethan walks back over to the boys, getting razzed because he didn’t get her number. They ask what pick up line he used, and the response is overwhelmingly “what the hell?” “Please tell me you didn’t”

Duker starts up “God thats embarrassing man. Of all the possiblities, you come up with that? No wonder it didn’t work!” He finishes just as someone approaches the group

Y/n POV

You sling an arm around Dukes shoulder as you say hey to him, Mackie & mark, who you’ve had classes with at some point over the last 2 years.

“Sup boys, having fun?” They nod. “Cool, Eddy you ready?”

He nods & extends a hand. You grab it and pull him towards you. “Bye boys” you call over your should as you pull Eddy away “see you Monday Duker.”

You head out and start the walk back to your apartment.

Back at the party

The boys are speechless. “How in the fuck did that work?” Mackie muses

“Guess its not that she’s doesn’t like athletes, she just didn’t want you” Luke laughs as he nudges Duke, who’s still staring at the front door.

“Legend” Mark says, as some of the junior guys make their way over. “Did Eddy just take a girl home?” Jacob says, and the boys relay the tale. “Alright! He’s got game.”

#ethan edwards #umich boys #umich imagine #ethan edwards x reader #blurb #jjwritesshit #hockey #umich boyos

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ofthecaravel · 11 months

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Brandy

Chapter Two

Summary: A port on a western bay serves a hundred ships a day, and the lonely sailors flock to the Caravel Cantina, run by the Kiszka brothers (minus one). But when their brother returns with a handsome sailor in tow, the youngest Kiszka brother finds his perspective about his family and himself turned upside down.

Tags: Even more brotherly shenanigans, angst, tension (both good and bad), cutesy first date butterflies, some tears

Words: 9.7k

A/N: Very cute lil chapter but...something's definitely up

~~~

Sam was awoken by the unmistakable feeling of a gentle pressure on his forehead, as well as hushed whispers he could barely make out. He started blinking and trying to open his eyes when he heard Jake go "Fuck!" and audibly drop something, and when Sam tried to turn his head, the pressure on his head left and he heard even more things hitting the ground. He sat up with a jolt and looked around in a frenzy, trying to make sense of his surroundings as he tried to gain coherency. He was met by the sight of his brothers in their pajamas, Josh with a stack of books and a poorly concealed smile, and Jake with a book in his hand right at the head of Sam's bed. At his feet was a pile of books, varying from thin pamphlets to thick textbooks.

"Oh, for crying out loud, you guys," Sam moaned, his voice still gravelly with sleep. "When was the last time you did this forehead book balance shit? I was, like, seven."

"We just missed it so much," Josh whined, flashing a wide smile that Jake mirrored without even having to look at him.

"We're recreating memories of yore," Jake insisted, bending to scoop the books up, stopping to gently smack Sam on the side of the head with a book when he straightened and handed them to Josh. Josh's knees buckled slightly at the further onslaught of weight and let them collapse into a sliding pile across Sam's desk.

"Then I suppose you'll let me relive the glory of when I filled your shoes with shrimp?" Sam smiled blearily. "That's one of my favorite pieces of 'yore'."

"Absolutely not," Josh hissed as Sam giggled, turning to swing his legs out of bed but Jake put a firm hand on his chest and held him steadfast.

"No, no, no, don't move," Jake commanded, exchanging a look with Josh that sent him out of the room before turning back to grin at his little brother. "Since you slept so late, we've decided to pull out another abandoned Kiszka brothers tradition to celebrate my glorious return."

As if on cue, Josh came sailing into the room balancing three plates, terribly singing a childhood Sunday school song as he distributed them to Jake and Sam, who accepted them with oohs and ahhs.

"Aww, you shouldn't have," Sam fawned. "Breakfast in bed day!"

"A Kiszka classic," Jake proclaimed as he and Josh sat heavily on the end of the bed, crossing their legs and immediately tucking into their breakfasts.

Sam felt a warmth in his chest he hadn't felt in a long time as he stared down at the eggs dumped sloppily over darkly toasted bread ripe with nuts and seeds, with a scattering of chunkily cut apple slices. Josh had even served it on Sam's designated plate, a pale blue porcelain with a slight chip that had come from the first time Sam had ever done the dishes himself.

"Is it really that late in the morning?" Sam asked sheepishly, snapping an apple slice cleanly between his incisors. "We only did these after I slept in super late when I was sick."

"It's 11ish," Jake explained through loud chews. "But we both woke up early so, to us, this is late."

"You don't have scarlet fever again, do you?" Josh prodded, squinting suspiciously at Sam.

"No, I certainly do not," Sam replied indignantly as he swallowed his bite of apple.

"You had me fooled," Jake hummed coolly. "Last night, you looked unmistakably...flushed."

Josh snickered into his bite of toast and Sam frowned, his brow knitting in the certain way that always made his brothers even more entertained in their razzing.

"Well, yeah, you had me working like a dog," Sam explained, pointing his fork purposefully. "I was running all over the place for hours."

"Oh, like when you ran over to the jukebox?" Josh asked innocently, and Jake giggled as Sam felt the calm warmth in his stomach shoot up to his cheeks and ears as a hot rush of adrenaline as the memories of the night came trickling back in.

"Or when you closed?" Jake egged on as Sam shot glares between his two chuckling brothers. They were all grown men, but as they giggled and Sam scoffed, it was like they had traveled back in time to when they were small and all their energy was reserved for picking on one another over the breakfast table.

"I don't know what you mean," Sam muttered as he took a big bite of eggs, hiding any expression his face might betray while he chewed.

"Mmm, I think you do," Josh sang, batting his lashes at Sam theatrically while Jake twirled a piece of his hair.

"Ooh, I'm Sam, what's your name, sailor?" Jake mocked in a high pitched voice. "What's that? Your name is Daaaniel? What a handsome name!"

"Fuck's sake," Sam groveled, pushing Jake's shoulder. "I was going to ask you about that!"

"So you are going out with him this week?" Jake perked up, and Josh's eyebrows shot up as his mouth fell open, revealing the half chewed food in his mouth.

"Why did you tell some poor lackey on your ship that I was dying for a date?" Sam complained, his frustration from last night finally being released. "Does the whole crew think I'm some desperate floozy? Huh?"

"I didn't say that!" Jake insisted, putting his fork down and adopting a serious look. "You know I love talking about you guys, and when we took on Daniel he just seemed so perfect for you! I mean, he looks just like the guys you would write about in your-"

"YOU READ MY JOURNAL?" Sam shrieked, putting his plate on his nightstand with a loud clack as Jake recoiled with a nervous grin. "YOU READ MY JOURNAL AND YOU TOLD A STRANGER?"

"Sorry, what's going on?" Josh interjected meekly, his legs pulled up to his chest as he watched Sam's fiery gaze burn through Jake, who was protesting through weak, restrained laughter.

"Sammy, c'mon, give me a second to explain," Jake choked out as Sam spun his fork in his head fiercely, giving a loud exhale through his nose. "I never said you wrote about hot guys in your diary, calm down, I'm not completely evil. I sAAAID, mister, that you two have a lot in common and would be a good match. He asked about you all the time after that, and I didn't have any pictures to show him of you, so, you know, last night was a culmination of a lot of waiting."

"I guess that would explain some things," Sam grumbled, recalling Daniel's enthusiasm and saccharine charm. "But, I mean, he wasn't all bad. Except that he's a damn thief."

"What'd he thieve from you?" Josh asked amusedly, reaching out and plucking an apple slice from Jake's plate. "Your heeeart?"

"Can't you two get out?" Sam whined, only getting laughs in response as the twins continued to happily eat their breakfast. Jake seemed to take the hint that one more tease would end in a sea of porcelain shards and launched into a retelling of he and Josh's morning adventure on the wharf. One of the things that Sam had missed so much about his brother was his shocking abundance of grace; Jake could rile him up to the point of complete fury, but never pushed hard enough to make him explode. He was the perfect diffuser for Sam's ticking time bomb temper, a skill quickly learned in the aftermath of their parent's death. That was when Sam's fuse had been the shortest and spared no one.

But that time had passed. Now, they were all back together again, piling commentary and laughter on each other as Josh elaborated on their haggling with the egg vendor at the crack of dawn. Sam leaned back against his headboard and just observed for a minute, refamiliarizing himself with the way that his brothers would trade off sentences and throw words in for the other to enhance their part of the story.

"Hey, where'd you go there, Sammy?" Jake asked, wiggling his fingers in front of Sam's face, making Sam blink back to the present and smile without thinking.

"Sorry, still a little sleepy," Sam lied, sitting up straighter and cracking his neck.

"You didn't miss the part where the chicken followed Josh home, did you?"

"I'm an animal whisperer," Josh declared proudly. "She wouldn't even look at Jake. She just trotted up right behind me all the way up to the front steps. I thought that chicken was gonna break down the door the way she was pecking at it."

"Where is she now?" Sam asked through a laugh. This was such a thoroughly Josh situation, running into oddities at every turn. Sam had to be the sole errand runner for a while when the woman who sold from the dairy cart had her sister visiting and she kept trying to marry Josh off to her daughter in the Côte-Nord.

Josh paused for a moment and Jake started cackling, collecting the plates from him and Sam.

"Don't tell me there's a chicken in this house, Josh, don't you dare," Sam started lamenting, kicking at his brothers to get off the bed with his legs still covered by the quilt. Josh immediately scrambled off the bed and closed Sam's bedroom door with a bang, blocking it with outstretched arms. Sam swung himself out of bed and rushed to the door, only to be stopped by Jake setting down the plate and then grabbing him around the waist in one swift motion.

"Let me go!" Sam shrieked, smacking at Jake's head. "When did you get so freakishly strong?"

"When I started working on a fuckin' cargo ship!" Jake replied cheerfully, hoisting Sam an inch off the ground and whooping in delight when Sam started full on screaming and kicking.

"Show me the chicken! I know she's out there!"

"You have to say the magic word!" Josh announced, looking up at Sam with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, Sammy, we raised you better than this. Where's the courtesy?"

"Show me the chicken, please and thank you!" Sam obliged defeatedly, wiggling free of Jake's grip and swatting at Josh's arms.

"You can meet Clarice after you answer a few questions," Jake assured, clapping a firm hand on Sam's shoulder and shaking him back and forth a few times, Sam bending like a ruler under his hold.

"Clarice?" Sam snorted. "That's the name you went with? Is this chicken 80 years old?"

"Hey, she's a part of the family now, show some respect," Josh chastised, his arms still splayed out firmly over the expanse of the door. "Now. We have some serious stuff to talk about."

"Okay..."

"So..." Jake trailed off, strolling casually over to Sam's dresser, and then suddenly started to throw the drawers open. "What are you wearing tonight?"

Sam flushed and spun, letting out a cry of protest when Jake crouched to open the lower drawers and started pulling out shirts and pants, tossing them over his shoulder into premeditated piles on the floor.

"Hey, hey, hey, gentle, gentle!" Sam cried, dropping to his knees next to Jake and picking the clothes right back up, starting a cycle of him shoving them back into the drawers only for them to be yanked right back out by Jake.

"You need the perfect outfit for your date," Jake insisted, handing a shirt to Josh, who had come over to sit cross legged with them and was sifting through Jake's piles. "Too much?"

"Too much," Josh agreed, tossing it onto the bed. "What's Daniel's favorite color?"

"Indigo," Jake said, pulling out a dark blue button down. "This is sorta indigo."

"You guys really have nothing else to talk about on the ship, huh," Sam teased, still grabbing clothes and neatly folding them. "What's his second favorite? Vermillion? Chartreuse?"

"No, smartass," Jake replied, handing the dark blue shirt to Sam. "It's goldenrod. Try this one on."

"You guys are being so weird about this," Sam accused, slipping the shirt on and buttoning it over his bare chest. "It's just dinner. I don't even know the guy."

"Daniel's my best worker," Jake said, shaking a finger at Sam. "And my best friend on the ship. He's not just some guy. I really trust him."

"And you obviously already like him, so stop pretending like this is some arduous task you're doing for charity," Josh scolded good-naturedly, cocking his head to the side to appraise Sam. "Mm. That's not working for me. Jakey?"

"I agree, off with it," Jake affirmed. "Josh, you wanna decide on some pants for the young lad?"

"Already done," Josh said proudly, plucking out a pair of espresso tweed pants.

"Oh, I love those ones," Sam gushed as he shed the shirt, finally giving in to letting them play dress up. This was another childhood tradition being resurrected, Sam realized with a nostalgic pang. Only this time it wouldn't end with them sending him out onto the street decked out in their mom's wedding jewelry and a pillowcase dress and locking the door when he flew back to the doorstep wailing.

"Heeeere we go," Jake whistled, holding up a button down colored the warm yellow of the inside of a dandelion. "This is one of the ones I sent you, right?"

"Uh huh," Sam affirmed, taking it from Jake and putting it on. "From Sierra Leone. You said you bought it from a guy with one eye."

"You remember all that?" Jake looked genuinely surprised, finally stopping his frenzy and casting soft eyes on his baby brother. "I've sent a hundred letters and you remember a throwaway detail like that?"

A sudden hush fell over the brothers in their wreckage of Sam's room.

"Of course," Sam replied, his tone the gentlest it had been all morning, maybe in years.

"It's not like we have much else to read," Josh continued, clearing his throat thickly. "We missed you, you know."

'More than anything,' was said silently by both Josh and Sam. The afternoons they received a letter or package from Jake were followed by a night of reading and re-reading and then an evening of closed doors and lamentations.

"Yeah," Jake said weakly, looking at the ground. "I do know. And you know I'm sorry."

'So, so sorry,' was the silent reply of Jake. It had always been written in invisible ink right after he signed his name on his letters, folded and sealed with shaking fingers and guilt that pounded behind his eyes like a headache. The crew knew not to bother Jake after they touched down on a port with postal service; they just bought an extra bottle of whiskey and put it out for him to take to bed.

"We know," Sam said, his voice slightly above a whisper. "I'm happy to have you back, even if just for a little bit."

"Me too," Josh agreed, gently tapping his socked foot against Jake's knee.

"I'd stay longer if we could," Jake said seriously. "If it was up to me, we'd stay for a month. Maybe two."

"Isn't it quite literally up to you what you guys do?" Sam pointed out, trying not to let any frustration creep into his voice.

"Not really," Jake explained, almost meek. "We have a schedule to stick to when it comes to docking and buyers and suppliers and all that technical bullshit. Some shipyard in St. John's is expecting us next week."

"That's dumb," Sam mumbled petulantly, playing with the sleeve of the yellow shirt. "You've barely even told us what your cargo is. Don't they have whatever you guys carry already?"

"Don't be snippy, Sammy," Josh scolded, even though Sam knew damn well that he was thinking the same thing. "We're very proud of you, Jake. Just...hopefully next time you can stay longer."

"Hopefully next time you can stay," Sam whispered, fully sinking back into the hole he'd been digging the past 2 years. This morning was a dream, but he was starting to wake up again.

"I'm here now," Jake reminded them, putting a hand on each of their shoulders and leaning in. "Let's make the most of the time I have, okay? I don't want to spoil this time with my favorite brothers."

"We're your only brothers," Josh finished the age-old joke with a small smile. "You're right. If anything, Sam is the one impeding our time with his little date tonight."

Sam scoffed loudly, pushing both of them back and getting to his feet while Jake and Josh started giggling again.

"YOU guys are the ones who- y'know what, forget it," Sam threw his hands in the air. "Everybody out! Let a man put his pants on."

"Aye, aye, captain," Jake agreed, both him and Josh getting up while trading glances in an unspoken conversation. "We know you want to get all primped and proper for your suitor."

"We'll walk you to Skipper's," Josh asserted, ducking his curly head when Sam raised his hand in preparation for a noogie.

"Like hell you will!" Sam argued, firmly shutting his scheming brothers out of his room.

At 4:50, Sam was blushing 10 angry shades of pink as he walked down the street to Skipper's Pub to meet Daniel, with Jake, Josh, and Clarice the chicken in tow.

"Stop following me," he hissed over his shoulder for the thousandth time. "I'm fine."

"We need to make sure you get there safely," Josh insisted with a shit eating grin on his face, his hands happily stuffed in his pockets while he strolled with a spring in his step.

"I need to lay down the law with Daniel," Jake explained looking mock stern, clearly enjoying this just as much as Josh. "He needs to know how to behave around my beloved baby brother."

"BAWK," squawked Clarice, drawing the attention of every passerby and storefront as their misfit parade continued onwards as Skipper's came into sight.

Sam could see a tall, familiar figure leaning against the lamp post up ahead and his body started to come alive with an entire power grid setting his nerves alight. His palms started sweating and he spun around one more time.

"Go. Away!" he whispered furiously again, nearly jumping out of his skin when a yell cut off Jake's impending reply.

"Kiszkas! What a pleasure!"

Daniel had spotted them and was giving them an enthusiastic wave, approaching them at a rapid pace that left Sam faltering slightly in his stride. It wasn't until he was right in front of him that Sam realized just how unprepared he had been to see Daniel in the sunlight. He was donning a lightweight, cream shirt and simple black slacks, but the thing that made Sam clear his throat to avoid choking on a gasp was how Daniel had thrown up his hair in a curly twist, leaving his face somehow more open. A few curls had escaped and curled up under his jaw and bounced as he moved his head and gestured, taking a moment to acknowledge Sam's brothers and pointing to the chicken.

"I see you've brought your posse," Daniel teased, raising his brows at Clarice, who clucked quietly in response and clung to Josh's ankles. "I don't remember mention of a chicken, Jake, I'm surprised you'd leave that out."

"Clarice is a new addition to the family, Daniel," Jake chuckled, admiring her dark plumage. "You know me, I'd never not tell you about the family chicken. How was your sleep at the inn?"

"Deepest sleep I've had in years," Daniel laughed, his body language reading nothing but comfort and confidence. "Much easier to nod off when you don't wake up seasick every 2 hours."

"Amen to that," Jake replied, shaking his head. "I slept like the dead last night. I don't even think I dreamt."

"That's a bummer, the crew always looks forward to hearing about the crazy shit you get up to in Dreamland."

Sam cleared his throat again, this time to snap his brother back to reality. As he had gotten ready, he had wanted nothing more than to get dinner over with. But now that he was here, and Daniel was standing so tall in front of him with the early evening light bathing him in warmth, he suddenly felt he wanted Daniel all to himself for a few hours. Or the whole night. Dinner would decide that, he figured.

"We have reservations, gentlemen, shall we catch up later tonight?" Daniel proposed coolly, picking up on Sam's signal before one of the twins jumped at the chance to make a teasing comment. "I'd love to swing by for this famous Jake whiskey I've heard so much about."

"Sounds perfect," Jake agreed, giving Daniel a professional handshake that made Sam want to roll his eyes into the back of his head. "We just wanted to make sure our darling Sweetie Sammy didn't get to wandering."

"He was born without an internal compass," Josh confirmed, nodding sagely as Sam stared daggers. "Poor Sammy."

"Well, I'll get him where we need to be," Daniel assured them, putting a warm hand on Sam's upper arm and sending a jolt through his system. "Think you can manage the 1 minute walk without getting lost?"

"I can manage, thank you," Sam finally spoke, his heart giving an embarrassed jump at how his voice wavered ever so slightly. Jake and Josh noticed this subtlety and gave him identical looks of subtle amusement.

"Good, good," Daniel murmured, rubbing his arm twice and finally steering them away from Jake and Josh and the chicken that had now begun to wander between Josh's legs in boredom. "See you guys later!"

"Bye, Daniel!" they both called in the sing-song voice they had teased Sam with that morning, and Sam wished with all his might that they would explode as he heard them whispering excitedly while they walked away.

"They never leave you alone, do they?" Daniel asked Sam, his voice pitched in a lower register that made Sam's ears twitch and spine straighten.

"Not since I've been alive," Sam responded, his nerves escaping as a breathy little laugh he wasn't expecting. "They're the most embarrassing people on Earth but I love 'em."

"That's good, they certainly love you," Daniel hummed, letting his hand fall from Sam's arm. "That's why they annoy the shit out of you. I should know, I'm an older brother myself. Thousands of miles and a sea that's as deep as it is wide couldn't stop me from bugging my baby sister."

"What's her name?" Sam found himself asking as Daniel opened the door to the pub for him, and Daniel blinked in surprise at the question.

"Josephine," he answered with a smile, the bell on the door chiming cheerfully as they stepped inside. "Pretty as a peach. I'm sure you two would get on."

As Sam took in the scene at Skipper's, he became aware of the sheer lack of ...well, the scene itself. There was no hazy cloud of tobacco blanketing everything in its scent, no loud cacophony of shouting men, no violin whistling in the corner with its accompanying hat of crumpled bills and scattered coins. No waitresses bustling, no bartender snapping, no smell of grease and salt.

"Uh," Sam stuttered, looking around with visible confusion. "Wow, I've never seen it so empty here. It's usually a madhouse."

"I figured," Daniel said slyly, walking ahead of Sam and training a cool grin on him. "I got here early this morning and talked to Skipper and rented it for a few hours. We have the whole place to ourselves until 8. You think you can fit your interrogation of my character into that time frame?"

Sam had never been one to be rendered speechless, and yet there he stood, his mouth slightly ajar as Daniel's smile grew while he watched Sam blink, knitting and unknitting his brow with sweaty palms.

"Last night, at your bar, it was pretty crazy with the guys," Daniel started to explain, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I saw you flinch every time somebody yelled. I thought you might appreciate the peace and quiet."

"What do you want from me?" Sam asked quietly, his voice cracking ever so slightly as he squinted at Daniel.

"This one dinner," Daniel said simply, walking backwards towards the backroom. "With you. Come on, let's sit down and get a drink."

Sam followed Daniel as he led him over to one of the booths, one in the corner that was usually snatched up as quickly as they opened. The table was laden with a stubby candle, a wilting flower in a smooth blue vase, and two menus carefully placed across from each other. Sam slid into his seat, landing hard as he took the weight off his weak knees. He was having a very hard time adjusting to this environment. How was it he had gone 20 plus years and never been on a date before? How had he gone this long and never been thought of with this much care?

"You're over 21, right?" Daniel asked nervously as he settled in his seat, picking up his menu as he sat back and spread his legs, his knee knocking against Sam's under the table and making him jump. Daniel didn't seem to notice this, not moving his leg and poring over the menu's measly contents.

"Yeah, I'm 22," Sam replied, trying not to shift around as much as he wanted to while he started to look over the menu himself. God forbid he bumps Daniel and he moves his knee from his. "But they don't ask here. Or anywhere else in town, really. If you're old enough to walk and keep a coin in your palm, they'll serve you."

"Surely not at The Caravel?" Daniel accused over the top of his menu.

"We're young enough to know who's who and how old," Sam elaborated, a smile creeping onto his face. "We only throw 'em out if we don't like them, but those people usually stay away. The rest, we just water down their drinks a little and keep an eye on them."

"That's pretty courteous," Daniel complimented. "That's probably why you guys are so popular. It has a good atmosphere. Very inviting energy."

"And great service, right?" Sam joked, raising an eyebrow. "That's the one I always hear. Even though I'm not sure that's really what they mean when they say it."

"Sounds like you deal with a lot of colorful characters."

"That's one way to put it."

"I should know, I have a feeling I'm one of them," Daniel grinned, and Sam laughed.

"Honestly? I've dealt with so much worse," Sam replied truthfully. "Overall, you rank pretty low."

"Sounds like you're liking me better," Daniel said triumphantly. "I knew this would happen. I've charmed you."

"It's only been 3 minutes," Sam pointed out coolly.

"And I've already had you speechless," Daniel countered, his eyes flicking over Sam's face and upper body for a few seconds. "That's the power of my charm. It works fast. I like your button down."

"Thanks," Sam replied, his heart beating against his rib cage so fast he was nearly breathless. "I like yours, too."

"I'm so glad you like my plain, white shirt," Daniel chuckled. "I was really worried."

"I'm bad at compliments," Sam blurted, his face heating up at his own admission. "I do mean it, though. It's...nice. More formal than I see a lot of sailors wear. And, I mean, we're a port, so I see a lot of sailors."

'Oh my god, stop talking,' screamed his inner monologue, whom he indulged by biting on his lower lip and turning his attention back to his menu, pretending to be suddenly engrossed by the misspelled description of a tuna melt.

"Are you nervous, Sam?" Daniel asked slowly, resting his forearms on the table with a flirtatious grin, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "You seem a little nervous. I mean, it's not like this is your first date or anything, is it?"

Sam tried not to bristle at his words, instead maintaining eye contact for a brief moment before silently returning to his fake menu reading, politely scratching his nose and willing himself to not go beet red in the cheeks. All the teasing joy on Daniel's face slowly faded into a genuine shock, his mouth opening ever so slightly as he leaned further across the table.

"No way in Hell," he whispered. "Ain't no way. You? You mean to tell me YOU have never been on a date before?"

"What do you mean, me?" Sam asked, lowering his menu finally to look Daniel head on. "It's really not a big deal."

"I'm not saying it is, I'm just saying it's odd. I mean, from a statistical standpoint."

"Sorry?"

"You're attractive," Daniel breathed, adopting a look of real confusion. "You could have anyone you wanted."

"Oh, please. Now you're just buttering me up," Sam scoffed, shaking his head reflexively as he tried to look anywhere but the hazel abyss of Daniel's stare. "I just, I don't know. I'm busy."

"Sure," Daniel rolled his eyes. "You must have been asked two dozen times."

"A night," Sam corrected. "I never said I hadn't been asked."

"But you've never said yes."

"Let me put it this way, Dan," Sam said, leaning forward in a spontaneous moment of bravery until there were only inches separating their noses. "The dates I get asked on aren't really meant to take place during the day, or exceed more than 10 minutes. After a while, the "flattery" gets sort of lost on you."

Daniel blinked and frowned, his face deflating into a somberness that confused Sam.

"So..." Daniel started, twiddling his fingers pensively. "You didn't think I was actually going to take you out on a real date?"

Sam held his gaze, feeling nervous for a minute that Daniel could see right through his eyes and into his head, nervous that he would see the replay of all the crude comments and requests that Sam had accumulated over the years and never, ever forgotten. No matter how much he pretended they didn't bother him.

"No," Sam relinquished quietly. "I did not. And, if I'm being completely honest, I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"What would I ever spring on you?" Daniel asked sincerely. Sam realized, then, that Daniel really didn't know the answer, and his heart ached in a foreign way that felt almost uncomfortable.

"That your intentions with me are not as pure as you're pretending they are," Sam said, but he immediately knew that his concerns were not the accusation he had been so certain of. "But maybe you're starting to change my mind a little."

Daniel's puzzled frown lifted into a small smile, his big eyes softening as he looked at Sam for a beat more, stretching the silence until it twanged with a tension that Sam was starting to get a taste for.

"I'm happy to hear that," Daniel murmured, leaning back against his seat again. "I hope to change your mind more than a little bit by the end of the night. And I hope you know that Jake would have my ass if I ever tried to hurt you."

Sam let out a laugh, relaxing into its release as Daniel lifted the darkness from the booth with his crooked grin and ease.

"It could be fun to watch you get thrown overboard," Sam teased, and Daniel scoffed in mock offense. "We'll borrow a plank from a pirate ship. Get a good crowd, pass around some smokes. It could be a whole event."

"Your cruelty wounds me," Daniel accused, even though his smile was practically dripping off his face. "Hey, that'll be our next date. I'll give you a proper tour of The Barbarian."

"We haven't even finished this one," Sam laughed, looking around the empty restaurant. "Are they even going to serve us? You promised me dinner."

"And dinner you will get," Daniel promised. "I already ordered for us both ahead of time, don't worry about it."

"What?" Sam said, shocked by Daniel's preparations once again. "Then what did they give us menus for?"

"I thought keeping them would be more authentic," Daniel admitted sheepishly, securing Sam's menu with a finger and sliding it under his own. "Plus, I knew I wanted to set up as many opportunities as possible to see your cute little surprised expression. Why would I pass up on such a fun chance?"

Sam felt the heat rise to his face again as Daniel tossed him a casual wink. A minute later, a waitress came through the kitchen doors carrying a slew of plates topped with pink fish, greens, and golden potatoes that threatened to roll over and across the floor. Daniel whooped excitedly and the waitress laughed, the two of them striking up a lighthearted chat as she set down the plates and their rolls of silverware.

"Can I get you two any drinks?" she asked, pulling out her notepad and pen. "They're on the house."

"Are you sure?" Daniel asked as he unfurled his napkin. "It's not an issue if-"

"Oh, no, no," she refused, flashing Sam a smile. "The Kiszkas supply all our best liquors, it's the least we can do, really."

"You guys are regular tycoons, huh?" Daniel whistled, and Sam waved him away.

"No, no," Sam insisted humbly. "We just look out for each other. We'll both have a brandy on the rocks, please, Violet."

"Of course, Sammy," she smiled as she jotted it down, nodding politely before walking away. As Danny looked down to admire their dinner, she caught Sam's eye, pointing at Daniel and mouthing 'Wow!'. Sam laughed and Daniel looked up, his fork already deep in his salad.

"What?" he asked.

"It's nothing," Sam replied with a mysterious smile, popping a baby potato into his mouth and looking down shyly. He could still feel Daniel's eyes on him as he chewed.

"Brandy, huh?" Daniel continued, and Sam silently looked up at him, shrugging gently.

"Yep," Sam said simply. "Brandy."

At 8:15, Daniel and Sam rolled into the Caravel in a burst of giggles and flushed cheeks, the sound of their chatter filling the empty expanse of the bar. Jake and Josh had been engrossed in a lively conversation as they prepped for the evening, but they went silent with wonder as they watched their brother float up to the bar with Daniel right behind him, watching Sam unwaveringly as he babbled enthusiastically.

"Hey, you two," Jake greeted gingerly, almost as if not to scare away whatever demon had clearly possessed Sam to be this bright before a shift. "How's it over at ol' Skips?"

"Delightful," Daniel grinned, patting Sam loudly on the back as he took a seat next to him. "I learned so much about this guy right here. Like the fact that he cannot handle his liquor."

"For the last time, I'm not drunk!" Sam exclaimed in annoyance. "I had two drinks. Two. God forbid I let loose a little."

"I don't know, Sam, I haven't seen you this "relaxed" in a while," Josh teased, pulling his wild halo of curls back into a weak little ponytail as Sam gave him a private look of warning. "You can work tonight, right?"

"Of course," Sam defended, mirroring Josh's motions and starting to comb his fingers through his hair and brushing it away from his face. "Like I said, I'm not drunk."

He really wasn't. If he was drunk on anything, it was Daniel. Hours had sped by as they talked over dinner about everything and anything that came to mind. Daniel had clearly prepared some talking points beforehand, but the conversation had taken natural twists and turns of its own that had followed them all the way to the bar. Sam was already trying to memorize what he could of Daniel; his favorite season was summer, he cracked his knuckles when he was deep in thought, he was the quietest guy on the ship (which came as a big surprise to Sam, all things considered).

"Well, even if you were, I don't expect we'll get many patrons besides a few of my men," Jake said as rubbed a glass on his shirt before putting it back. "You need a hair tie, Brandy?"

"I got it," Daniel interjected before Sam could snap at Jake for calling him Brandy yet again, reaching up and releasing the jaws of his hair clip. He casually shook his curls loose, one of them brushing Sam's cheek as Daniel leaned over to fasten the clip over the mess of hair that Sam had bundled at the back of his head. The contact made Sam inhale sharply and sit straight as a board while Daniel worked securing every loose strand of hair, humming as if it were nothing. Jake and Josh stood there in awkward silence, both of them making intense eye contact with Sam as they all had an unspoken family talk.

'Get a room,' started Josh, speaking through a smile playing on his lips.

'I knew this was a good idea,' added Jake by purposefully looking down into the glass in his hand.

'I hate you both,' replied Sam by narrowing his eyes at them. They all snapped back to reality when Daniel held his hands up and admired his handiwork, patting Sam on the back yet again.

"There you go," he said proudly, tucking his own hair behind his hair and assessing Sam's bun. "Looks close enough to the one you were rockin' last night."

"What do you say, Sammy?" Jake sang, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Thank you," Sam muttered.

"You're welcome," Daniel replied with a smile. "I do all the guys' hair on Barbarian. I guess that's the perk you get with being the only one with a sister. Can you believe I'm the only one? I've never met so many only children in my life."

"Barbarian?" Josh echoed, knitting his brows. "I thought-"

"Can I get you anything to drink, Danny boy?" Jake blurted, loudly placing an empty glass in front of Daniel and startling Josh away from his train of thought, who instead just threw him an annoyed glance. "Whatever you want, that was the deal."

"The deal?" Sam asked critically. "He buys me dinner, you buy him a drink?"

"You betcha," Jake laughed, pulling out a bottle of his whiskey and pouring Daniel a tall drink, loudly dropping a few ice cubes in the liquor and sliding it until it nudged Daniel's hand. "Bon appétit."

Daniel looked embarrassed as he took the glass, melting under Sam's pointed glare. Sam realized he wasn't all that justified in being as annoyed as he was; Jake had told him that he had set this date up from the get go. But Daniel had been so sincere and fun and genuinely caring during their dinner that maybe for a second Sam forgot he might only be doing it to fulfill that agreement, and not because he was actually interested in Sam.

"Well, enjoy your hard earned drink," Sam bid sarcastically, getting up with a start and stomping to the back to grab his apron and tray.

"Oh, come on, Sam," Jake called after him, but Sam didn't look, simply turning the corner into the cramped backroom and snatching his apron violently from the wall. He stood in front of the cracked mirror next to the hook that held the aprons and maintained a steely staring contest with himself as he cinched the fabric around his waist, his heart hammering angrily in his chest. Sam had never felt so stupid in his life. Something during that date had made him a little lighter, but here he was, crashing back down to Earth like he had this morning. He scolded himself for getting so caught up in temporary reliefs from reality, letting out a heavy sigh as he clenched his jaw and tried to trick his mind into ignoring the pressure building in his waterline and clouding his sight.

"Fuck," he whispered, holding the heels of his palms against his eyes and swallowing purposefully, steadying his breathing as he tried to force any runaway tears back into his tear ducts. This was so stupid, he thought. So fucking stupid. He was getting worked up over nothing.

"Hey."

Sam cursed and removed his hands from his face, wiping his palms on his apron and harshly turning to face the voice in one, fluid motion.

"Woah," whispered Daniel, who was standing behind him with an apron in his hand, concern painted all over his face. "I..."

"I'm fine," Sam snapped, the emotion in his voice betraying him. "You're not supposed to be back here."

"I'm serving tonight," Daniel announced, holding up the aforementioned apron, which looked almost like a washcloth in comparison to his arm. "Captain's orders."

"For fuck's sake, I can handle myself," Sam groaned, trying to grab the apron from Daniel, who held it tight in his hand. "Can't you just leave me alone?"

"It didn't seem like that was the case half an hour ago," Daniel retorted, pulling the apron away from Sam and tossing it over his head. "It seemed like you were pretty happy to be in my company."

"Yeah, well, that was before-" Sam stopped, unsure of where that sentence was going.

"Before Jake uncouthly reminded us both that our date started out as a scummy sailor's deal?"

Sam huffed and rolled his eyes, turning back around to the mirror. Of course, he could still see Daniel in the reflection, and the frustration surrounding his expression tensed his nerves even further. Daniel with his sad, lapdog eyes roaming over Sam's face, which was flush with color and adorned with his trademark scowl.

"Maybe that's what it was supposed to be," Daniel spoke again. "But it was never at your expense. Jake made it very clear from the beginning that I didn't have to do a damn thing. It was just an idea, but I was the one who agreed to actually do it. And maybe I was playing it up a little bit initially last night but..."

Daniel paused, his eyes wandering in space as he finished tying his apron until Sam finally caught his eye in the mirror.

"I only continued playing it up because I realized I actually liked you as a person," Daniel confessed. "It wasn't a bet anymore. I just wanted to get some actual one on one time with you when you weren't on the clock and rightfully annoyed with me. And I meant what I said at dinner tonight. No bad intentions. My cards are on the table."

Sam stood there numbly, trying to absorb what he was hearing and trying to sort through his thoughts. If there was one thing Sam was good at, it was being overwhelmed.

"And, I mean," Daniel plowed on, smoothing the apron against his legs and allowing a hesitant smile to tug at his lips. "I don't have enough time to make any other friends, so you'd really be doing me a favor by hanging out with me some more."

Sam stayed silent, keeping his lips tight to avoid Daniel's smile from infecting him too, instead sniffing once and staring at his shoes.

"I'll give you a dollar if you get breakfast with me tomorrow?"

"Shut up, man," Sam finally said, giving in to a little laugh and turning to face Daniel. "I guess...I guess it wouldn't be so bad if we hung out again."

"Thank goodness," Daniel said with an exaggerated sigh of relief, half of it genuine. "I'm sorry I keep giving you so many reasons to hate my guts."

"I don't hate your guts," Sam replied softly. "But I am going to give you all my worst tables tonight."

"That's fair."

"And I get half of your tips."

"Take them all, I don't want them," Daniel grinned.

"How can you turn down spare change like that?"

"I don't need it."

"Surely you don't make enough to always live this lavishly when you're docked," Sam accused as he grabbed his tray from its little shelf and handed one back to Daniel.

"I have a great accountant."

"Maybe you're a pirate."

"Maybe I am," Daniel smirked devilishly, raising an eyebrow at Sam and making his heart race faster than it already was. Sam approached him, feeling a little emboldened by the equal ground that Daniel had established and the liquor that lingered in his bloodstream.

"You're too nice to be a pirate," Sam murmured, smacking his serving tray against Daniel's broad chest. Daniel held his gaze and his crooked smile grew, cocking his head and appraising Sam from under low lids and heavy, dark lashes.

"You sure about that?" he responded calmly, his voice low and husky as his eyes flicked down to Sam's lips, reminding him of just how close he had gotten. He felt his breath rattling excitedly in his chest as he watched Daniel's pupils unmistakably expand in their hazel pools when the tip of Sam's tongue flicked out to lick his lips, feeling the few seconds that passed like they were hours.

"BOYS!" came the rolling shriek of Josh's voice, jolting them away from each other as they turned to the sound. "Customers! Quit sucking face and make me some money!"

"We are NOT!" Sam screamed back, immediately powering towards the eruption of laughter from the bar. He left Daniel standing there, who took only a second to catch his breath and stifle a smile before obediently following after him.

The Caravel didn't have many patrons that night, but Daniel made it more than worth their while. The Kiszka kept having mini meetings at the bar where they hunched over and spoke in rapid fire whispers and giggles as they watched Daniel weave between tables and charm every customer into turning out their pockets for him. Sam was still at the beck and call of a few of his regulars, but after someone had suggested he "show a little skin" to get a tip, Daniel had swooped in, pointedly tied up his own shirt, and skirted Sam to the sidelines.

"Pigtails next, Wagner!" one of Jake's men called from a corner table, where 6 of them had huddled and crammed their glasses together on the small surface.

"Do a spin!" yelled the guy next to him, and they all cracked up when Daniel did just that, blowing them a kiss as they wolf whistled and yowled while hustling over to the bar to discard his tray of empty glassware.

"You want a job, Danny?" proposed Josh, pouring up a new round. "I can't pay you much more than Jake, but if you keep this up you'll be drowning in tips."

"Then who would carry all of Jake's big, heavy boxes?" Daniel said, cracking his back and rubbing his neck. "I'd think about it but I'm not even keeping these tips."

"What?" Jake spluttered, pulling down his sunglasses to stare Daniel down. "You just made 40 bucks in 20 minutes. What are you going to do with all that?"

Daniel looked over at Sam, who had been leaning against the bar resting his chin in his hand and enjoying the break that Daniel had allowed him. Plus, he couldn't say he hadn't been enjoying the view a little, too. Sam looked up at Daniel and they all watched as Daniel scooped out all of his tips and piled them in front of Sam, giving him a wink and striding off back into the fray. The brothers stayed silent for another minute, blinking at the pile of money glimmering on the wood.

"Sammy," Jake said slowly as Sam quietly started separating the coins and bills. "I need you to listen to me very carefully. You need to marry him."

"Shut up, Jake," Sam muttered, pursing his lips slightly to keep a giddy smile at bay as he pushed the stacks of coins towards Josh to roll.

"I've never seen anything like that," Josh remarked as he slid the coins into their paper towers and pushed them right back to Sam. "I mean, I thought I was a gentleman, but, wow."

"I told him I got half of his tips tonight," Sam explained as he slid the money into his apron pocket.

"Pretty sure that was more than half," Jake scoffed, looking back over to Daniel, who was laughing with the men at the corner table. "Look at that, he's even got Carson and the guys docile. I can never get them to settle after a few drinks."

"What a guy," Josh sighed longingly, shaking his head theatrically.

"He's alright," Sam said, sneaking another sidelong glance at Daniel and startling when he saw Daniel had already been looking at him, shooting Sam a surprisingly shy smile before turning back to his customers.

'He's more than alright,' Sam thought to himself as he watched Josh place a round of shots on his tray. The thought scared the shit out of him.

"Walk you home?"

Daniel bumped his shoulder against Sam as Sam locked the register up for the night.

"I won't be alone this time," Sam reminded him. "My brothers are surprisingly sober tonight."

"Whatever," Daniel said, pulling off his apron and messily folding. "We can walk ahead of them or something."

"You're so obsessed with me," Sam accused, taking Daniel's apron and walking to the back room to hang it next to his. Daniel followed him and offered an offended scoff, standing in Sam's way.

"Forgive me for wanting to keep you company," Daniel teased, reaching up and flicking the end of Sam's nose, who scrunched it in annoyance and slapped his hand. "Alright, I'll leave you alone this time. What are you up to tomorrow?"

"I have to go to the market in the morning, and I planned on stopping at the glassblowing shop sometime before my shift," Sam groaned, his lip curling. "Customers break our glasses like they think we're made of money. Glass is more expensive than you'd think."

"Well, if you have any free time, you should swing by the inn," Daniel smiled, leaning his head against the wall and appraising Sam with a soft look. "My room has a record player and a great view of the alley where all the drunks go to fight. It's a pretty sweet deal. Room 1, 'cause, you know, I'm your number one."

"How tempting," Sam hummed, crossing his arms. "I'll think about it. But if you're trying to seduce me, it's not working."

"Isn't it?" Daniel purred, winking and sending Sam a flurry of butterflies in his stomach, which he masked with a roll of his eyes and smacking his shoulder against Daniel's, trying to pass him.

"Go home, get outta here," Sam ordered as he strode into Daniel's side again, trying to make him budge. Daniel grinned, unmoving.

"Mm, nope, try again," Daniel challenged, leaning further against the wall with a cocky look. "Push me aside."

"Fuck off," Sam grumbled, slamming his shoulder into Daniel's but stumbling backwards instantaneously. He then proceeded to place his palms flat against Daniel's chest and push with all his might, causing Daniel to shuffle ever so slightly and chuckle.

"You're killing me, man," Daniel laughed, looking down at Sam with a delighted warmth in his eyes.

"Move!" Sam whined, slapping his palms on him again, nerves fluttering in his stomach with every moment that passed with Daniel's body so close to his. He made the mistake of making eye contact with Daniel, finding himself frozen with his hands still pressed against Daniel's shirt as he became more and more aware of how little there was separating their skin. Sam's heart jumped into his throat when Daniel leaned down so that their noses were nearly touching.

"You're adorable," Daniel whispered. Sam could feel his sweet breath on his face, blowing the loose strands that brushed against his ears. Before Sam could reply, Daniel straightened again and flattened his back against the wall, allowing Sam to breeze by him and burst out onto the floor.

Jake and Josh were huddled by the jukebox, talking in a low register that would have surprised Sam any other time when he wasn't so overwhelmed and jittery.

"Ready?" he asked, trying to keep the strain out of his voice.

"You two go ahead, I'll wrap up here," Josh insisted, clapping Jake on the shoulder and turning him in Sam's direction. His voice was oddly tight, and Sam passed a curious look between the two of them before Jake grinned cheerfully and moved past Sam.

"Come on, Sammy, you know if we linger he'll change his mind and give us chores," Jake said, yanking on Sam's arm and looking back at Josh. "Hey, we'll talk in the morning, yeah?"

"Yeah," Josh answered simply, immediately spinning to give his attention to the jukebox and leaving Sam even more confused as Jake led him to the back. Daniel was still there, waiting by the door.

"What are you still doing here, sailor?" Jake laughed, blissfully unaware of the tense stare Sam was sneaking at Daniel. "Aren't you sick of us yet?"

"Completely," Daniel shot back, nodding his head at the door. "But I can't leave in good conscience without knowing if the ol' girl is safely locked up or not."

"You don't trust us to remember to lock our own establishment?" Sam countered as they stepped out into the fresh night air.

"Like anybody would try to break into this dump," Jake snorted as he locked the door behind them with an exaggerated jangle of the extra key ring. "There. Now Josh is locked in."

"Oh yeah, Josh," Daniel said as they started walking. "Why's he hanging back? Did our boys bust up the place that bad?"

"Yeah, what's up with him? He seemed cranky," Sam chimed in. Jake let out a half laugh, half sigh as he shook his head.

"He's fine, he's just..." Jake thought about it for a moment before settling on a diagnosis. "It was a hectic night and he's just sort of wound up. You know what I mean, Sam."

"I don't know, J, he seemed pissed at you."

"Whatever it is, don't get me involved," Danny interjected. Jake laughed.

"Dan, you schmoozed a mountain of tips for us tonight, Josh couldn't get pissed at you if he tried," Jake smiled, reaching past Sam to pat Daniel on the shoulder. "Sure you're not gonna leave your ol' captain behind to work for Josh?"

"Nah," Daniel said flippantly. "Although I admit it's very tempting."

Daniel gave Sam a private elbow to the ribs and Sam stumbled, glaring at him while Daniel gave him a wink.

"How did you get into the cargo biz, anyhow?" Sam asked as they turned onto their street.

For the first time, Daniel hesitated. If Sam didn't know any better, he'd think he exchanged a look with Jake, but it was over before he got the chance to figure out if it was the dim light playing a trick on his sleepy eyes.

"Well," Daniel started, knitting his eyebrows in thought. "It's a complicated answer. I needed a job but I knew that'd mean working at the schoolhouse in my hometown and I...I don't know. I wasn't sure if I was teacher material. I had bigger dreams. So, I hopped a boat and sailed away."

He smiled at that, looking down at his boots as they echoed over the cobblestone.

"I'm happy you did, Dan," Jake hummed as they approached the door. "I only wish we could've gotten our hands on you a little sooner. There were some keg shipments before your time that still haunt my dreams."

"You can probably lift those like a beer can," Sam blurted, allowing his thoughts to bleed through into his speech and immediately flushing hotly at it. Daniel and Jake looked at him in amusement as he tilted his face away to pat his pocket for his keys.

"You bet I do," Daniel agreed, a laugh tittering on the edge of his voice. "Come here and I'll lift you like a feather."

Sam squeaked out a protest and shimmied away from him. Daniel chuckled as Sam stuck his key in the door, scowling at Daniel over his shoulder as he opened the door and held it open for Jake to strut through.

"You two kill me," Jake teased, giving Daniel a side hug before strolling into the threshold of their home. "You want to come in for a nightcap?"

"I should turn in," Daniel declined politely, shyly rocking back on his heels. "But I'd love to come by sometime before we head out."

"We'd love that," Jake smiled, turning to Sam. "Wouldn't we, Sammy?"

"Sure," Sam agreed softly, not quite looking Daniel in the eye as he lingered in the doorway.

"Sure," Daniel mocked quietly, rolling his eyes and shaking his head with a smile on his face. "So enthusiastic. I feel sooo welcome."

"What's happened to your manners since I left?" Jake scolded Sam. "Sheesh."

"Sor-ry," Sam drawled, looking up at Daniel with a toothy grin. "Daniel, it would be ever so wonderful if you'd join us for a meal sometime."

"Why, thank you, Brandy," Daniel replied just as mockingly, dipping into a sarcastic curtsy before taking a step back. "Goodnight, you two. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight," Jake bid, raising a hand before heading off towards his room, his hat already off his head as he let out a deep sigh and disappeared into the dark house.

Sam stayed in the doorway for a second, stepping inside but looking over his shoulder one more time. Daniel gave him a little wave.

"What are you waiting for?" Daniel asked, raising his eyebrows with his hands deep in his pockets. "A goodnight kiss?"

Sam slammed the door behind him, locking it loudly. He heard Daniel's laugh muffled through the wood and Sam smiled bashfully at the sound, leaning his forehead against the door as he listened to Daniel walk away.

~~~~~

#gvf #greta van fleet #danny wagner #sam kiszka #myart #karoufiction #greta van fleet fanfiction #sweet lil sammy #danny the gentleman #and the twins....brothers of the year

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spiralinghours · 18 days

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“I’ll Be Seeing You” (2/?)

Fandom: Saw franchise

Pairing: Mark Hoffman x Peter Strahm

Rating: still PG-13 I think?

Tags/Warnings: middle aged men using rude and crass language with each other, internalized homophobia typical for the 90’s/early 00’s, chubby chaser Strahm (still), mentions of Angelina

Summary: Stakeouts then and now.

Author’s Notes: Wrapped up this part in kind of a hurry because I liked what I have so far but also there will be more on these stakeouts. I was just getting impatient. Hope it’s still okay. Drunk editing so apologies for any errors.

MAY 1992

“God, who’s the rent-a-cop stripper over there?”

Peter cut a smarmy look in Mark’s direction. Officer Hoffman, rather, as Diane at the front desk had dreamily pointed out. She may as well have been twirling her hair around a finger and sighing.

Which. Like. Okay. Peter could kind of see why. This guy had a crystalline, doe-eyed softness to him—friendly enough, but sort of quiet. It was all very soft focus, romance novel cover, glamour shots-centric. Not that he would know anything about all that.

At the same time, Mark was dumbly chewing on a Twizzler, mouth slightly agape like a cow as he squinted at fold of newspaper in his grip. From what Peter could peek at, the puzzled and concerned look was over something in the horoscope section.

This man was an idiot. What even was his job around the station? Who gave him a badge?

Peter realized he was letting his harsh judgments run away with him for no reason. ‘Don’t be that way,’ he had to remind himself.

“Excuse me, but where is Detective Halloran?” Peter inquired, leaning over the edge of Diane’s desk. “I was told to get in touch with him. I’m supposed to work with the team going out to case the Smith warehouse.”

“Oh right,” Diane nodded along, “you won’t actually be joining Halloran—he got pulled into some other business. He’s partnering you up with another officer.”

“Oh. Did he say who?”

Peter should have known, by the grace of the universe, like some big joke, that he was going to get paired up with him: the guy he had been mentally razzing since he arrived, the guy who was currently walking towards him, as if he could hear his thoughts…

“Hey,” he extended a hand, “Mark Hoffman.”

Peter’s glare clung and drifted from Mark’s hand, up his arm, to his chin, his lips, the little gap between his teeth… Such a genuine smile. He almost felt bad for being a prick about him.

“Special Agent Peter Strahm,” he mumbled, trying to avert his stare.

“Good to meet you. Ready to go?”

“Uh, sure.”

2006

Agent Erickson stood by the superior officers in the middle of the conference room, hands folded in front of him, face stoic. It was a debriefing for all agents and officers on the case, now that everyone assigned had arrived.

Strahm couldn’t focus with Hoffman sat directly in his line of sight, resembling a tired, overfed cat on the brink of falling asleep. One thing to note was that Mark barely smiled, looking miserable, maybe only giving one little polite grin to Perez when he was showing her around the station. Peter wished he could see what that toothy smile looked like on Mark’s softer features, instead of having to face a constant vacant pout.

He noticed a lot of the audience was starting to thin out, apparently dismissed and ready to get to task.

“Peter,” Erickson called, making a small “come here” gesture. “You and Hoffman are going to scout out this location here.” He passed forward a sticky note with an address. “We think this might be a location for an upcoming game set up by one of Jigsaw’s accomplices.”

“What about Perez,” Peter protested almost petulantly, “she—”

“She has her assignment, Peter,” Erickson finished. “I specifically need an agent out there patrolling with Detective Hoffman.”

Mark, having tuned in from across the room somehow, had strutted over after Erickson had walked off.

“Like old times, huh?” he teased, voice low as he leaned in over Peter’s shoulder.

MAY 1992

“So, uh, what do you do outside of work?” Peter bumbled. “Like, to stay sharp.” ‘Christ, you might as well tell him he has a nice body, fuck,’ he cringed to himself.

The connotations were lost on Mark, who seemed distracted by his own loosely-strung thoughts. “Oh, uh, I mean I work out in the facilities when I can… Used to play soccer…”

“Oh, nice. I would’ve assumed you played football or something. Got the shoulders for it.” ‘No, was that too queer?’ Peter scolded himself. He had to wonder, either way—for a guy with such a medium frame, Mark’s shoulders and chest were pretty prominent. Meaty, even, if he was being candid.

Peter wanted to slap himself for letting his eyes linger at Mark’s chest too long.

Despite the internal panic, Mark had no idea, innocently chewing on one fry after another, nodding along to whatever Strahm had to say as they waited in his patrol car.

The evening’s task was to case one of the many potential neighborhoods the suspect could have been planning to hit next. It was cookie cutter suburban and exactly the same as the previous two neighborhoods they had staked out in the past two weeks, right down to the beige slat siding and the white front doors. Even if Peter sounded foolish, he was glad to have some form of conversation to distract him from the stillness and boredom.

“Want one?” Mark held out the fast food bag with loose fries rolling around within. He had ordered two large fries and dumped them into one bag, grazing on those and a few burgers the whole evening.

“No thanks,” Peter declined. “My last girlfriend complained I wasn’t eating enough greenery and then the habit just kinda stuck. I think I’d get heartburn if I even sniffed one of those.”

Mark chuckled softly, still chewing. “I get it. I overdo it sometimes but I just go on a run or whatever and sweat out the salt. Can’t help it though. I eat when I’m nervous. And bored.”

“You nervous about this?”

“Heh, no. Not really. It’s something else.”

“Well, what?”

“It’s my little sister. She finally started college. I’m just worried about her being out livin’ on her own. It’s stupid.” Mark tried distracting the thoughts with more fries.

“I’m sure your parents are even more worried. But that’s natural.”

“I wouldn’t know. They’re dead. I think. I dunno, probably haven’t seen my parents since I was a kid. Angie and I were in the system for a while, and then I sorta just took care of her myself.”

“Oh.”

Peter felt a little bad for constantly taking jabs at the guy, even if they were only mental and one-sided. But only a little.

2006

Mark’s eyes curved around in a little J path, dropping down before trailing up Peter’s chest and settling on his face. God, he was so boxy and angular everywhere, like he was drawn in a fit of rage. Mark considered the sharp point of his nose, the light scowl that lived perpetually on his lips, the creases sprawling from his cheekbones. He was a stiffened, colder caricature of the twenty-something Strahm he had known once.

Softly opening a bag of chips, Mark’s eyes stayed fixed, wondering if Peter would notice what he was doing—if he was going to get curious and watch.

“Hungry already?” Peter sniffed, looking Mark up and down. “Just bored?”

“Why do you care?”

“Doesn’t seem like you’ve been going on those runs anymore.” Peter cringed at himself. Why was he being like that? The logical part of his mind wanted to know, but the bitter, excitable vapors starting to flood the recesses of his brain were tapping at something so secretive, guilty, and bothered.

“Oh, another way of calling me fat. You’re so mean.” Hoffman lazily rolled his eyes and bit into a burrito that had seemed to manifest from a bottomless bag of “supplies”. “Again, dunno why you care so much… Unless it… does something for you?” There it was. A cunning smile started to bloom across his thick lips, still chewing thoughtfully.

There was the obvious fact that visually couldn’t be denied: Hoffman’s plush lower belly did rub up against the steering wheel, whereas back in the early 90’s (and however many pounds ago) his athletically thick though trim-enough torso had no such reach. Back then, the black fabric of his uniform had give, one side buttoning cleanly over the other. Now, his blueish-gray shirt was pulled taut, a slight separation of fabric just above his belt where the shirt would no longer tuck in all the way.

“Don’t be disgusting. I’m not a pervert like you.”

“Uh huhhhhh.” Mark set the burrito down on the dashboard in a pause. “You know, I remember. The last time we did this you kept staring. I bet you wanted to watch me get fat, you freak. Well now that you’re gracing me with your presence you can enjoy the view, I guess.” He huffed, grabbing the foil-wrapped monstrosity and biting in hurriedly.

“First of all,” Peter finally grunted, incensed, “You’re the one that didn’t want anything to do with me. Had to be sauced and secretive about it—but I knew. We both know. More than three ‘accidental, drunken’ kisses isn’t an accident.”

“Maybe I didn’t want anyone knowing because I liked keeping my job!” Mark grumbled around a huge mouthful, trying his best to not let that hamper his seriousness. “It was different then!”

“Secondly,” Peter pushed on, ignoring his words, “yeah, I was checking you out. Yeah, maybe the age and that gut looks good on you now. Maybe I also just liked looking at you back then. Back then, now—doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, wow, way to get Brokeback Mountain on me.” Mark tried lowering his husky voice, but his jab only came out like a bratty teenage girl barb.

Peter lunged across the center console, bundling a fist into Mark’s shirt fabric, hasty and heated. “I don’t get you, you smug fatfuck.” His pointed nose was close to grazing Mark’s cheek as he breathed in heavily, angrily.

“I’m sorry for how I was, okay?” He sounded genuinely apologetic for the first time since their reunion. “Things are… complicated. They have been.”

Peter had a begrudging understanding. He wanted something that he wouldn’t know what to do anything with… didn’t know how to interact with it. And what about Mark? It had been so long, and there he was, facing him, unaware of where his life even was. What was he ready for? Interested in?

It was asking a lot.

#coffinshipping fic #hoffstrahm fic #coffinshipping #hoffstrahm #90s hoffstrahm #mark hoffman #peter strahm

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konietzko-sylvoran · 4 months

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Day 3 for May DWC 2024 Shame - Favorite

★ Backstage Glimpses at Hearts of Tenacity Fest ★

While interviewing the performers backstage was always fun, this year the hosts decided to have a little fun with it! Loaded with a bag of Hearts of Tenacity pin sets, Konietzko set forth to offer one Starflower and one Aethril pin to everyone they interviewed to see how they'd respond. Of course Talthorn couldn't resist also asking them how many Talicious Pinups that they had on their walls already too as a further way to loosen things up and keep their minds off the pressure of their shows.

Kon recalled Dicenne saying something about, "The two seem fairly inseparable, no?" Which means the guy was smart enough not to choose either but both. So that made it one point for Talthorn and one point for Kon. The Fangbreakers said they all already had purchased the full set to collect so that too was another point for both making them both still tied with two. Grim had reported that they didn't own any pinups yet, but he couldn't help but wonder if that changed after the festival. They certainly had put on one amazing show as a new soul on their stage. But he also recalled that Grim had chosen the Starflower pin. Aha! Three points for himself and still only two for Talthorn. Illerodora considered herself a woman of mystery so she would not comment on how many posters she owned to which set Talthorn off on a barrage of questions trying to weasel some form of an answer out of her but she never budged, not even for him. He smiled fondly at that memory before recalling that she'd chosen the Aethril pin as it stood out against her skin and hair in such a lovely way even if she actually wanted both. Of course they wound up giving them both to her as how could they resist. But that evened up the score again to three each. Liam informed them that Ranathiel had many pinups in their room, though he hadn't caved yet of having one done of himself yet. It didn't change the score for them either as Liam had both pins already from former years of the fest. Malor expressed his thankfulness for the "beautiful and a little familiar" Starflower pin so that put Kon back ahead of Talthorn four to three. Maybe he should have offered one to his wife, that could have been a double point! Nahilvi snatched both of them from him when offered, the little thief. Course he would have given them both to her but that put them at five to four now. Ranek confessed to having a collection of pinups though he wouldn't confess who he had even if he'd teased the worgen a little about having each one of Kon's. He loved razzing his friend though it was no secret. But he was unable to choose between the two pins and had to flip a coin. Konietzko debated rather to make that count or not in the score because he technically hadn't chosen. He scrunched his nose and decided not to cheat. Rye confessed to having a few pinups of both him and Talthorn to which he was not surprised considering how close they were. But when presented with the pin challenge he chose Aethril without even hesitating. "Starflowers are all well and good, but we both admit that there's a vibrant aura from Aethril that is near damn impossible to ignore." He said much to Kon's chagrin. That put them back to being equal at five to five. Ryland admitted he didn't really collect pin-ups but, "I absolutely do have one of Dicenne. He's been a huge inspiration to me, and he's just really fucking hot." A comment which neither Talthorn nor Konietzko could deny but left them all laughing. Much like Dicenne, he had chose both telling them, "I feel like you cannot have one without the other." So that put them both at six to six now. Soo-Ha the lovely dear had been so kind and gentle when they interviewed her. But she picked Aethril right away as she claimed she was a "sucker for hues of pink and purple." Talthorn couldn't fault her for that nor did Kon so that put his husband back in the lead with six to seven now.

Starman was a riot to question, he even blushed a bit with those freckled cheeks when asked about the pin-ups. He said, "I've made sure to update the collection each year... Every performer is gorgeous in their own right, and they can be rather inspirational when writing scripts for future performances. There's actually a small handful that have inspired my performance for this year's Talicious Block." That certainly left them both curious but boy had he brought on the heat with his show. Aznhin did NOT disappoint. Course he declined the pins as he already had both so the score remained with Talthorn in the lead. Much to Kon and Tal's amusement, the Starstriders gave a specific number confessing they had at least five posters. But they kept the score mostly the same as Leo chose Starflower and Trist chose Aethril putting them at seven to eight, Talthorn leading still.

Tarscale tipped Talthorn ahead even further having chosen Aethril as she seemed fond of the pink flower shape so that put his husband ahead with seven to nine and Andy put him ahead even further having chosen Aethril simply because his sister Velathra grew them in her garden. But fair was fair so the score was now seven to ten for Talthorn. Zane at last was their final score to count, admitting she had a few posters on her walls but she too decided to choose the Aethril pin as it was more her style. Course she wanted both in the end but that initial choice counted in this favorites game putting Talthorn as the winner with their scores of seven to eleven. Konietzko couldn't blame anyone for chosing him or Aethril more, honestly he had chosen him over himself too time and time again. With a laugh he called out to Talthorn. "Seven to Eleven, you win!" To which earned Kon a very confused look from the kitchen as he had no idea what on Azeroth his husband was even thinking in that very moment. @daily-writing-challenge @dicenne @talthorn-sylvoran @zaneryne @ithiliosstarstrider @tristayranambrosio @anzhin-the-starman @thecozykirin @rylandfalkov @sirensdxn @ranekvilmas @siennablaze219 @firionbloodsworn @lunethdawnseeker @vaestro And many more I could not find the tags for!

#dwc2024 #maydwc2024 #mayday3dwc #Favorites #Aethril #Starflower #Pins #Pinups #HoT Fest

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cyberphuck · 1 year

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Assassin’s Apprentice Abridged: Part Two

Read Part One (My friend Razz wants to understand my Farseer Trilogy shitposts but doesn’t want to have to actually read the books, so I decided to summarize them. This turned out to be much harder than I thought it would be! Here’s part two of ASSASSIN’S APPRENTICE: ABRIDGED!) When we last left our hero, Fitz was a little baby following an old man into a hole in the wall.

"Gosh, Chade," Fitz says, after a wholesome montage of him learning how to steal things and poison people, "I love hanging out with you. It sure is neato to have a friend. I get to do all sorts of pranks around the castle, and once in a while the King even calls me to his rooms to remind me I'm a tool of the Crown!"

"You know what would be really funny?" Chade asks, eyes alight with glee.

Jump cut to Fitz's Twilight-esque depressive episode. He lays in bed for days, staring at the wall, refusing to get up. Burrich comes up to his rooms to ask Fitz what the fuck is going on with him and assumes he's dying.

Fitz can't tell him that Chade asked him to steal from the King and he refused, because everything about Chade is a secret. Burrich doesn't know that Chade told Fitz that if he wasn't game to yoink something from Shrewd's chambers, that he could get the fuck out and never come back.

"Watch this, Shrewd! You can actually pinpoint the second when Fitz's heart rips in half!"

(Burrich tries to cure Fitz's ailment by introducing him to alcoholism. He's like ten.)

Sitting in his room alone and drunk, Fitz starts wailing. He cries and cries until Chade finally comes back down through the secret wall-door to hug him. "Me and Shrewd wanted to see if you were really loyal," he says. "So we traumatized you. We really wanted to introduce you to depression, alcohol, and abject betrayal at a young age and this was the quickest way to do it."

"I want my mommy," Fitz sobs.

"There, there," Chade says, drugging him and leaving.

Later, Fitz is summoned to speak to King Shrewd again, who explains that it was all his idea to give Fitz borderline personality disorder and absolutely does not apologize for it. Fitz takes a knife from the breakfast table in Shrewd's room, brings it back to Chade, and stabs it into the mantle above the fireplace.

I like to think that every time Fitz throws himself into needless danger for the next ten books, Chade looks up at that knife and goes "lol. lmao."

"Hey Lil Accident," says Head Scribemaster, "you're pretty good at writing. You wanna be my apprentice?"

"Gosh. I'd get to go places and do things," Fitz marvels. "And almost none of them would involve poisoning people!"

Chade Mission-Impossible drops from the ceiling and hangs above Fitz for long enough to tell him that no, he can't be a scribe's apprentice, for one thing he's already learning to be an assassin, and for another Fitz is kind of an important political tool, being a bastard of a Prince, and someone would definitely murder him.

"Sorry," Fitz tells the Scribemaster, "my uncle said no."

"But you can go down into town and buy some stuff for me, since you've been good," Chade says, reeling back up into the rafters.

Fitz jumps to his feet. "Oh, boy, social interaction! I haven't seen my hoodlum friends in a year! And you know who ELSE I haven't seen in a long time? MY MOM!"

He strides happily past a sad woman in the street wearing an anime mom side ponytail, completely ignoring her in favor of his old friend Molly Nosebleed, who goes by Molly Chandler now that her dad has stopped punching her in the face.

"You're the only girl I know, besides that hysterical woman over there screaming that I'm her son," Fitz says. "I think I have a crush on you."

"Neat," Molly giggles.

Lovestruck Fitz gathers his groceries and heads back up the road to the keep. Princes Verity and Regal ride by, carrying a banner that says "CHIVALRY'S DEAD. THE PRINCE, NOT THE CONCEPT. I MEAN THE CONCEPT IS ALSO DEAD, BUT THE MAIN POINT OF THIS MESSAGE IS THAT PRINCE CHIVALRY FARSEER HAS FALLEN FROM HIS HORSE AND"

Burrich shaves his head. And his beard. And his eyebrows. And his dog's hair. And Fitz's hair too, for good measure. Fitz, rubbing his new buzzcut, says "God, if you loved him so much, maybe you should have married him," and Burrich flings himself into the sea.

"We should be careful," Chade says, later. "Because Chivalry was probably murdered. Anyway, you're going on a road trip. tl;dr one of the dukes isn't properly manning the watchtowers that keep vikings from viking the coast, and Prince Verity has to go deal with it, and you're going with him."

"What's a teal deer?" Fitz asks.

Wandering around outside the castle later, Fitz runs into Shrewd's Fool with a capital F, the albino freak-child that cartwheels around in the King's wake all day.

"Oh no," Fitz says. "Are you lost, little freak child?"

"fjdaklfdafds," says the Fool.

"Come on little fella, I'm not gonna hurt you," Fitz smiles.

"FDAJKFDLALSDFAS," the Fool repeats, louder.

"Do you need an adult?"

The Fool steps up to Fitz, grabs him by the shirt, yanks him down to eye level, and says, "Fitz Fixes a Feist's Fits. Fat Suffices, you fucking beautiful dumbass."

Fitz stares at him.

"I thought you were too dumb to know how words worked," he says finally.

The Fool flips him off and cartwheels away.

"...Weird," Fitz mutters. "Whatever, time to go to NEATBAY! I hope I get to kill somebody!" On the way to Neatbay (in a riding party consisting of Prince Verity and like half the staff of Buckkeep), Fitz pals around with stableboy Hands, and meets Mysterious Old Person Lady Thyme, who is a person that sucks in every way possible.

Hands whispers to Fitz that everyone in Buck knows that Lady Thyme sucks and avoids her. Lady Thyme shrieks that you whippersnappers better not be liking yourselves up there!

Fitz and co. finally arrive in Neatbay. It's a walled city like the place in Attack on Titan, with concentric fortifications like an obstacle course that Vikings have never been able to Vike all the way past (this will not be important again until the next book). It's ruled by Lord Kelvar and his trophy wife and if Kelvar doesn't get off his ass and start manning the watchtowers Fitz might have to poison him to death.

They have dinner. Fitz hates rich people. He eyeballs everybody at the table.

That night before bed, Verity calls Fitz into his room. "What's going on with Lord What's His Face?" He asks the boy.

Fitz explains a very complex situation about how Lord Kelvar is clearly trying to impress his Young Hotness Wife with lots of jewels and shit and his Young Hotness Wife is trying to impress everyone else with her jewels and shit and meanwhile all those jewels and shit could be going to pay to man the watchtowers and the roads, and Kelvar has to take some pride in doing it or else he'll become embittered and...

"I'm going to tell Lord Kelvar to stop being a puss and man the watchtowers," Verity says, and turns over to go to sleep.

Fitz facepalms.

Late in the night, Fitz wakes up starving and ninja-sneaks down to the kitchens to grab a midnight snack. While he's there, a woman comes in with a little doggie wrapped in a blanket.

"My poor little doggie is dying," she sobs. "This type of dog is a small hunting dog called a 'feist,' by the way."

"Hack," says the dog.

"I think your dog is choking on something," Fitz observes, whipping out his stethoscope. "Yeah, there's definitely something jammed down there. Let's get it out. Hold your dog steady."

Fitz finds a long hook, slathers it in butter, and wiggles it down the dog's throat while the dog yowls and pees and scratches the Mysterious Blanket Woman. It takes a minute, but eventually he manages to dislodge a chicken bone from doggie's gullet and they all sit back, panting, while LeVar Burton comes onto the screen and lectures the audience about never letting your pets eat poultry or fish bones and the importance of limiting table scraps and keeping them on a healthy diet. Thanks LeVar!

"You saved my doggie's life," Blanket Woman says, and pulls back her blanket to reveal that she is actually Lord Kelvar's Young Hotness Wife! "I shall repay you in any way you wish."

"I'm thirteen," Fitz says.

"Any way you wish," the woman repeats.

Fitz scratches his head. "Oh! Tell your idiot husband to man the fucking watchtowers before you get Vikinged to death. I mean," he amends, "I had a prophetic vision that a strong and graceful trophy wife spread out her arms to protect the laaand wooooo~"

Then he goes back to bed.

...And is woken up YET AGAIN by a servant telling him that Lady Thyme is demanding his presence down in town.

Oh. Joy.

Fitz gets dressed, saddles up Sooty the horse, rides to the inn that Lady Thyme is staying at, knocks on the door. "I heard you're calling for me," he sighs. "Are you dying or something? Please say you're dying."

Chade opens the door. "Fooled you, boy," he cackles. "I am Lady Thyme! And we have to go to Forge right now."

"You made me empty out a pot full of your shit every single morning for five days," Fitz says.

"Get on your horse," Chade orders, and they're off.

"You know, I've never actually seen you outdoors before," Fitz says as they gallop down the coast. "It's-- are you snorting coke right now?"

Chade sneezes, wiping his nose. "Stay in school."

They ride hell-for-leather for Forge, a little town known for two things: iron exports and being raided by Vikings. They manage to get there twelve hours after the nick of time because Chade had to return some VHS tapes, and find little more than a completely burned-down village and some zombies.

"Chade, are those slow zombies like in Dawn of the Dead, or fast zombies like in the 2004 Dawn of the Dead remake?" Fitz asks, watching the zombies shambling around and fighting over pieces of rotten bread and pairs of pants.

"Run," Chade advises, and they do.

On the road out, they pass a bunch of non-zombie survivors moving all their slightly singed possessions to another town. Nobody wants to stay in a town infested with zombies, which the people of the kingdom start calling Forged people, or just Forged, because one of the rules of zombie movies is that none of the characters can say "zombies."

Over the course of the next few months, more and more people are kidnapped by Vikings and Forged, but no one can agree exactly what should be done about it.

And then one night, Fitz is picking his nose alone at a table in the kitchens when another mysterious woman approaches him…

#rote #assassin's apprentice #Fitzchivalry Farseer #robin hobb #aa abridged #farseer trilogy abridged

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kitashousewife · 2 years

Text

did it hurt?

an: another lil halloween story with our resident party pooper, osamu!!! enormous shout out to my lovely sweethearts for helping me with some ideas!!!

pairings: timeskip!osamu x fem!reader

warnings: shitty pick-up lines, food mention, alcohol mention, suggestive content, swearing, lowercase intentional, light self consciousness from reader (about a costume)

osamu is nothing if not a team player. that's exactly why he's here tonight. he gave his word, promised to attend the halloween party his friends are throwing, and showed up right on time.

he may be wearing the lowest-effort costume possible; but he's here.

osamu is wearing an old, fades, maroon inarizaki t-shirt with the cheapest devil horns money can buy placed on top of his hair. the horns and shirt don't match at all, but he couldn't care less.

it's not that he doesn't like halloween. he just doesn't see the point of putting so much effort into an outfit that you're going to wear once. throughout his childhood, atsumu was always the one begging osamu to do matching costumes with him year after year. but now that he's older, osamu doesn't feel bad saying no to his brother.

"samu, give me a fuckin' break! you can't be me again," atsumu groans from the bathroom, fixing the vampire fangs he's attempting to place in his mouth.

"yer just jealous that i look better than ya," osamu sighs as he rifles through an old storage bin that they retrieved from their ma's house hours earlier. "i'll come up with something else, i promise."

a good five minutes pass by before atsumu emerges, dressed in a very elaborate vampire costume; fake blood and all. osamu won't admit it, but he does look pretty impressive.

"ya look stupid," osamu sneers before heading out the door. atsumu lets out an exasperated sigh. "i'll see ya later though," he says as the door shuts, ignoring the yell of if yer me i'll kick yer ass as he whistles down the apartment hallway, twirling the devil horns around his finger.

it took a total of three minutes to get ready for the party. he plucked the shirt from the bottom of his dresser and threw on the horns before heading out the door. the drive was less than 10 minutes, and he showed up early to help with food even, in hopes that he wouldn't get razzed for his costume.

"this costume must have taken weeks, huh?" suna asks behind his red solo cup. osamu rolls his eyes. "yer not any better. ya been a damn cop for what, five years now?'

"it hasn't failed me yet. if it ain't broke, don't fix it," suna slaps osamu on the shoulder before throwing a wink his way.

"i'm just glad you're not your brother for once," aran says from atsumu's couch where he's lounging, twirling his lightsaber in the air. "i can't believe you didn't want to be a jedi with me."

osamu finishes plating some of the snacks, nodding at kita who starts to fill some of the drink coolers. "my costume is just fine! i don't know why ya all have to be so annoyin' 'bout it," he huffs, checking the time in hopes that it will be time to leave soon.

you'd be lying if you said you weren't the tiniest bit nervous. attending a halloween party where you only know one person? that’s reason enough.

"it's gonna be awesome, these guys are really fun," yachi cheers from the back seat of the uber you two decided to get. she fixes the halo on her head before turning to you. "you know hinata!"

"not really!" you cry, anxiously picking the angel wings in your lap. if anything, at least the two of you match, and she will be easy to find if you need a quick escape. "i feel silly in this."

the car comes to a stop, your stomach flips. you give yachi an uneasy look, which she returns with a warm smile. she grabs your hand and leads you out the car. "you look great! i promise. i bet you fifty bucks some guy will get at least your number," she sing-songs, fixing the halo sitting on top of your head as you roll your eyes.

"come on. at the very least, we get free drinks!" she giggles, pulling you behind her as the two of you walk towards the building. while you follow behind, you can't help the uneasy feeling in your stomach as you stare at your reflection in shop windows. the short white dress, white wings and make-shift halo looked great in the inspiration photos. but now you aren't so confident.

"are you sure it isn't, i don't know, too much?" you mumble as you fix the rhinestones yachi applied around your eyes earlier.

"i'm telling you, you look incredible. we look incredible!" she ensures as the two of you arrive at the building.

as soon as the two of you open the door, you are engulfed with hazy purple lights, light smoke, and the smell of too many bodies in one space. as the two of you turn the corner, each step you take causes music to thump through your body a little stronger. you hold yachi's hand as she weaves you in and out of people, finding her friend at last.

"oh my god, you guys look great!" a very welcoming voice floats over the music as hinata jumps into view, engulfing yachi in a big hug. "i'm so glad the two of you could make it!" he says as he adjust the cowboy hat that went askew. the two of them talk for a bit and you take the opportunity to look around and take everything in. for a party thrown by a bunch of boys, they really pulled out all of the stops. elaborate decorations, tons of lights, and decent alcohol from what you've seen so far.

but, you feel a little weird. almost as if someone is watching you.

from across the room, atsumu notices your halo as it bobbles behind different heads. dying to get a glimpse of you, he peers around different party guests until he can get a better view.

"samu! get over hear right now ya lazy ass!"

osamu pauses his conversation with aran, looking at atsumu with clear annoyance. "what do ya want?"

"yer pathetic costume might just get ya a treat, check this out!"

pulling his brother by the shirt collar, atsumu drags him to a spot where he can see you. osamu stops, mouth falling open as he finally understands why his very rude twin forced him out of a conversation.

standing in the purest, daintiest white dress he's ever seen, you look around with wide eyes. the angel wings flutter behind you as you search for someone, hands coming up every couple seconds to fix your halo. osamu feels his heart skip a beat.

"go talk to her," atsumu encourages with a push, which causes osamu to bump into a few people. as soon as he turns around, annoyance written all over his face, he finds himself right in front of you.

his mouth goes dry. you haven't noticed him yet, thank god. his mind races on what to say to you. you truly look angelic; sparkling eyes, pouty lips, the white of your dress causing you to appear as if you are glowing.

"e-excuse me," osamu shouts, trying not to scare you, but ensuring that he gets your attention at the same time. thankfully you turn around, looking up at him with a sweet smile. osamu thinks that there might be a heaven after all.

"oh, hi!" your voice shakes a little with nervousness before you look him up and down. "wow, look at you! you're my other half,"

"what? oh, yeah," he chuckles, scratching the back of his head. he takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "i'm osamu miya," he grins, stretching his hand out to you. you tell him your name as you shake his hand, but he doesn't let go

"can i get ya a drink?" he asks, pulling you towards one of the less populated coolers. you nod, allowing him to lead you. when you reach the cooler, he grabs a cup and tilts his head toward the drinks, and you tilt your head.

"i don't know," you start with a smirk. "something about you says you might not be the most trustworthy," you point to his head.

he shakes his head and chuckles. "what, these?" he copies your motion, tapping the horns. he fills your cup, smiling to himself as you fidget with the hem of your dress. "in that case, what should i believe about ya?" he emphasizes his last word with a tap on your wings. you give him a shy smile and shrug your shoulders, raising your palms in the air.

osamu clicks his tongue as he hands you your drink. you take a sip, looking up at him from the rim of the cup with narrowed eyes.

"somethin' tells me," he leans towards your ear, lips almost brushing against your ear. the plastic of the cup crinkles under your fingertips. "ya might not be as innocent and pure as ya look."

you gasp at the feeling of his lips so close to your skin, pouting slightly as he pulls away.

osamu steps to the side of you to pour his own drink.

"so, did it hurt?"

you quirk an eyebrow at him. the immediate switch of his behavior is dizzying. "huh?"

got her.

"did it hurt? ya know, when ya fell from heaven?" he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. you cover your face as much as you can with your cup and scoff in fake annoyance.

"wow, that's a really good one."

osamu laughs and glances up, spotting his brother and friends on the other side of the room where he left them earlier. atsumu is waving a phone around in the air as his friends give him a thumbs up.

"i got lots more where that came from," he murmurs as he opens up the contact app on his phone. he hands it to you, hoping that the colored lights on the wall hide the blush creeping up on his cheeks. "i'd love to share 'em with ya."

you bite your lip, attempting to calm your rapidly beating heart down. you grab the phone out of his hand, the two of you flinching slightly when you fingertips graze his palm. you type in your information quickly before handing it over to your costume counterpart. as he puts his phone away, you catch yachi talking to some of her friends. she gives you a thumbs up, which quickly turns into a middle finger when you mouth the words fifty dollars at her.

"thank you for the drink," you raise your cup towards osamu. "but i think i'm going to catch up with my friend," you say as you take a few steps backwards.

"c'mon, the night just started! what, ya don't wanna get into any trouble just yet?"

you blush at his smiling form, face far too kind for his impish disguise.

"you know how to reach me!" you shout as you rejoin the crowd.

osamu feels giddy. when he pulls out his phone to see that you saved your name as angel, he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue before he walks back towards his brother.

for once, osamu is thankful for his lackadaisical view on costumes.

#osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #osamu fluff #miya osamu fluff #osamu miya #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagine #hq fluff #hq x you

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orlamccools · 5 months

Text

ok i need brutal honesty pls read and respond to the following poll:

so basically. met this dude at work in 2022, thought he was super hot right off the bat and i felt like there were maybe ~vibes~ there too but nothing ever came of it. early 2023 he starts dating one of my coworkers, and even though they have a decent relationship they break up in october, mainly bc of her schedule. break up is completely amicable, she has no ill will towards him and is cool with other people talking/being friends with him.

around december i organize the stores secret santa, and i invite him and another driver to join the group (after making sure it was cool w everyone else who was participating). since then, the group chat the three of us have has been consistently active, and i talk to both of them fairly often, both thru text and in person. new years eve i go and get drinks w the two of them to celebrate the holiday, and into the new year we still talk all of the time.

now. starting january the person in question starts razzing me a little more, calling me a "silly goose" and just taking time to make more jokes with me. he also like stresses that if school doesnt work out, that i should come work with him at the company they are employed with/that im connected to via my job, and saying things like he would want me to be his helper next holiday season. during this time, he also tells his ex/my friend that he has a master plan to get me to drop out of school and like go travel the country and become like tour groupies for taylor/the bands he likes ??? i did not hear the conversation, and thats the jist of what my friend told me

prior to the release of ttpd, he asks me if i was gonna do a 30 day countdown of my top 30 taylor songs (which i hadnt been planning). bc of his suggestion, i spend the next 30 days curating my fave songs, and he interacts w those texts and asks abt the songs and what have you.

fastforward to the 18th of april: i reveal my favorite song and he responds with "thats 2 hrs and 10 minutes". i ask him to clarify, and he sends a playlist he made of all of the songs i recommended, so he can listen to them whenever. he also keeps suggesting that we (the group chat) go out to celebrate the end of the semester (which we probably will i just need to get thru next week before i commit to anything).

i still think this man is hot as hell, and i feel like there might be mutual vibes flowing between us again. with all of that: do we think theres a possibility he is interested in me in a romantic sense? or am i being delusion and reading too much into something thats platonic??????

#maddie mumbles #i feel like. theres too much there to be a coincidence #but i need other opinions bc idk what to do!!!!

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dakotakazansky · 1 year

Text

A Million Nights • Two

Once again a HUGE thank you to @mayhemmanaged for making this photo for me!

Warnings: Angst, Fluff.

Word Count: 1.1k

This is a part two, so if you've not read the previous part, click here!

It was a perfect day for a ceremony. It was a breezy low 80’s degree day, with bright blue skies that were littered with white puffy clouds. And for as beautiful of a day it was, there was an overwhelming somber feeling that overtook the crowd around Bradley, and his entire squadron.

“Gunner was an amazing Aviation Machinist’s Mate. You always knew that when she was assigned to your squadron, you were getting nothing less than perfection, every time. Everything was always checked, numerous times in fact, she was very anal about that. She would never put anything less than perfect into a jet.” Nat said, while standing at a podium, next to a portrait of Gunner in her Navy Dress Blues, the same thing currently adorning Nat’s and the rest of the Daggers’ bodies. Nat sniffled sadly, reading the rest of her speech to everyone in attendance, sometimes glancing up to Rooster.

As Nat stepped away from the podium, Jake took her place at the podium, and Nat took her place beside Bradley. “That was a really sweet speech Nat, thank you.” Rooster whispered to the woman to his left. She nodded back in silence to him.

“To those of us that knew her best, we called her Gunny, or more embarrassingly, Gunny Bunny. Sometimes just Bunny.” Jake let out a small chuckle, as did the rest of the crowd around him, the somber feeling cut for that brief moment in time. “Or as the Navy knew her best, ‘Party Animal.’ I will never forget the day that I watched Bradshaw over there, spill his beers all over the woman that danced into him. Nat and I razzed him for a while after that. There was just something about Gunny though, no matter where you were, or who you were with, she always brought the party with her. She was always the life of the party with us. She made being up on that flight line more bearable, even if it was only for a few minutes before take off, and after landing.”

The crowd of Daggers’ filled the silence with murmurs of their stories to one another about Gunner’s antics on the flight line.

“I think my favorite moment though, was one night at the Hard Deck, after a particularly rough mission, Gunner queued up all the best “2000’s gangster rap” and dance songs.That woman single handed pulled each and everyone one of us, out of funk, in just her music choices alone. She had us all dancing and having a great time in no time flat. I don’t think anyone else could ever come close to bringing that same energy.”

Jake’s speech following Nat’s left almost no dry eyes in the vicinity, except for one, Rooster. He stopped to hug Jake, “Thank you, for everything. From that night, until now, thank you.” Jake hugged Bradley back tightly, before releasing him, Jake taking the spot to the left of Nat, and Bradley approached the podium himself.

He sighed into the mic, and played with his tie clip to ease his nerves. “First off I would love to thank each and everyone of you for showing up. Seeing the amount of people here that wants to share their time and memories of Gunner, is truly astounding. It means a lot.” Bradley quickly glanced over all his buddies in the Dagger squad. “I’m so glad to see the impact that Gunner had on each and everyone of your lives, whether it be her Party Animal days, or her more professional Navy Days. Thank you again and please enjoy the rest of the Ceremony.”

On that note Bradley had made his way back to the spot he originally started in. A small hand took his right hand, “This is such a beautiful way to go.” The female voice to the right of him stated. “I don’t think I could have asked for anything better.”

Bradley now turned to stand right in front of the female voice, releasing his hand from hers and wrapping them around her waist, and her hands wrapped around his neck. “It sure is honey, although I’m sorry for Jake bringing out the Gunny Bunny, I didn’t know he had planned that.” Bradley stated while pressing his forehead to Gunner’s.

“Hey now, at least he left out the most embarrassing stories, and only went for the embarrassing nickname instead.” She replied back to him. “Oh!” Gunner exclaimed, grabbing Bradley’s hand, and placing it on her ever growing bump. “Is that-” Bradley started to say, but Gunner just nodded her head. “Yeah lil copilot is kicking.”

“Okay Bradshaw! Enough hogging your fiancee, and my godchild!” Nat exclaimed, coming over to hug Gunner. “How’re you feeling?” Nat asks Gunner. “Oh you know, still sore, and wobbly, finally getting out of that wheelchair has been a blessing though. Glad to be up on my own two feet again, even though I still need Bradley’s help every once in a while. I also am starting to feel like a whale, a very cute pregnant whale though. Wish i could look as spiffy as you guys though.” Gunner and Nat share a laugh together, as Gunner refers to everyone dressed up in their Dress Blues. “I think I’m honestly going to miss those. So sleek and put together.” Gunner mentions.

Everyone enjoys the rest of the retirement ceremony for Gunner. Her Commanding Officer made a speech, and then she turned up the Party Animal to as much as the max as she could given her situation of being pregnant and still recovering from the accident. Some of her favorite songs played, and everyone danced along with her.

A little while later the retirement orders were read, and Gunner made a very brief speech, quoting being too tired and filled with too much love to drone on for longer. When back in the company of all the Daggers as the ceremony came to close, and Gunner was leaning against Bradley for support, her back pressed against his chest, Fanboy asked excitedly, “Alright Future Mrs. Bradshaw, When’s the wedding?!” Both Gunner and Bradley chuckled, before Gunner spoke up, “I think Bradley and I are going to go for an extended engagement. Give me more time to rest and recover.” Bradley chimes in, while softly rubbing Gunner’s bump, “And allow this little one to be in the ceremony as well.”

Everyone said their goodbyes, and Gunner made a promise that even though she’s retired now, she’ll still come by often to pay them all a visit, and maybe bring them lunch or snacks, and will bring the baby along too after they’re born.

Bradley helped Gunner out of his prized Bronco and up towards the threshold of their home. “We’re definitely eloping, right?” Gunner laughed, “We definitely are, I don’t want another day to pass by that I'm not officially a Bradshaw. We’ll still have a massive ceremony later down the line, to include our friends, family and this little one.” She smiled down at her bump. “But for now Rooster you big stud, take me to bed, or lose me forever!”

Tagging some people who might be interested:

@mayhemmanaged @roosterforme @startrekfangirl2233 @desert-fern @roostette @cassiemitchell @sarahsmi13s @lavenderbradshaw @lovinglyeternal @bradleybeachbabe @thedroneranger @cherrycola27 @twsssmlmaa @bobby-r2d2-floyd @that-one-random-writer @horseshoegirl @footprintsinthesxnd @starset21 @emma8895eb @shanimallina87 @mak-32

#controlled chaos squad #callsign loki #callsign-loki #bradley bradshaw imagines #bradley bradshaw x OC #jake seresin #top gun #top gun imagines #top gun maverick #top gun maverick imagines #pregnancy #engaged

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pfhwrittes · 7 months

Note

Okay, follow up to Gaz and Ghost razzing Soap over comms and he can’t respond:

This time, it’s Gaz’s turn. Soap determines it’s payback time and Ghost goes along with it. (Because let’s face it, he would.)

Gemma I'm so sorry it took me so long to get this prompt out. My brain went off in a million different directions before finally settling on this one. It's not my best work but it did make me laugh, hopefully it makes you smile too! 459 words of silliness (again). Also, I'm sorry for the earworm. “Ohhhhhh an’ I would walk 500 miles an’ I would walk 500 hunner mair jus’ tae be. the. man. watin’ at yer doooooooooor!”

Kyle feels his left eye twitch in response to Soap’s godawful crooning. It’s been hours of the same fucking line sung over and over with different inflections and Kyle is seriously contemplating finding Soap’s overwatch position and beating him into a bloody pulp if he has to be subjected to the Proclaimers for even another second. Op be fucking damned.

“Johnny.” Ghost snaps down the comms, and Kyle feels his shoulders drop in relief.

Finally.

“Those aren’t the words.”

Kyle grimaces.

Here we fucking go.

“What’re ye on about Lt., of course those are the words!” Soap sounds delighted that he finally got a response out of the stoic Manc, which, in Kyle’s opinion, is the completely incorrect response to have.

“No.”

“How no?” Soap shoots back, not deterred by Ghost’s blunt reply.

“English Mactavish.” Christ, Ghost sounds downright fond of the prick. Kyle fights back the urge to make a disgusted retching noise in response.

“Sorry, sir.” A pause, then “g’wan then. Give us a tune.”

“Not a chance, sergeant.”

If it wouldn’t give away his position, Kyle would beat himself into unconsciousness. Listening to Soap butcher “I’m Gonna Be” is less painful than having to witness the way he flirts like a teenager with Ghost.

There’s another brief silence before Soap starts humming again.

Fucking hell. __

(Bonus scene I just couldn't scrap, even though it doesn't quite fit)

“Gentlemen. I expect you know why you’re here.” Kate’s voice is smooth and controlled, not a hint of emotion bleeding through. Her body language gives away just as much as her voice, that is to say, absolutely nothing. Beside her Price is the picture of barely tempered fury. In any other circumstances Kyle would quietly marvel at the way she holds court in the small conference room, would probably shoot her a friendly grin to reassert himself as her favourite troublemaker.

As it stands (at parade rest no less, wedged between the ever fidgeting Scottish menace on his right and the breadth of his Lieutenant on his other side), Kyle doesn’t dare to even move his eyes from the point he’s chosen on the wall behind Station Chief Laswell and Captain Price.

The silence stretches on and Kyle notices the faint tink tink tink of the ancient steel radiator as it blasts wave after wave of scorching heat into the room before his ears catch the sound of slightly off-key humming coming from his left.

There’s a brief moment of near silence before Soap’s composure crumbles, clutching at his stomach as he bursts into only slightly hysterical sounding giggles.

In his periphery Kyle watches a vein throb on Price’s forehead. Oh, they are all completely and utterly fucked.

#pfh answers #pfh prompts #friend tag #it's not my best but i needed to get the worms out #legend says that price actually shouted himself hoarse that day and was rendered voiceless for a solid week #kg #jm #sr #jp #kl

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darklydeliciousdesires · 1 year

Text

Papa didn’t raise no Bitch, Part Two - A Guero Short Story.

A little follow up to my first story, which you can find here. Guero visits his father’s final resting place in the wake of his actions.

Words - 745

Warnings - None

In the immediate aftermath of his uncontained act of retribution, he’d sobbed with the emotion, the relief of easing his burden, finally putting a bullet through the man who’d slain his father. Quickly though, he had calmed, a hush blowing over his bones, emotions stilled. Diaz no longer breathed, his death acting like a sedative upon his anger. If not, then the mouthfuls of tequila he’d sunk soon after had certainly done it.

Crouching down upon the patch of dirt marked only by a single, innocuous beige rock, Guero felt that emotions swirl in tumult once more. An unmarked grave; it was the odds-on final resting place for most men who wore a patched kutte upon their backs.

The leather felt especially heavy upon him that evening, bearing down with the pressure of consequence, duty settling weightily upon his shoulders, lifting the beer in his hand and pouring out a small amount.

“Killed him.” He sniffed, scratching his chin and taking a swig. “Like you always said, papa didn’t raise no bitch. I have no idea if there’s an afterlife, but I assume if there is, you both ended up in the same part of it.” A smirk tugged the corners of his mouth. “I bet you’re giving him a brutal ass kicking right now, huh? Ain’t nothing less than he deserves.”

He lowered himself to a sit, stretching his legs out, reaching to gather a handful of sand and small stones, letting them filter from his grasp slowly into a small pyramid beside his foot. “You’ll be dust soon enough, I guess. Just when I was getting to know you again. Second chances, man.” He snorted, kicking the pyramid, the sand swirling in the gentle breeze floating over the desert. “Fuck Diaz for taking that from me.”

His throat tightened, another swig of beer loosening the constriction, Guero sighing, picking at the label with his thumb. “I asked mom, you know, if she’d take me to visit you in the joint. She always said no. ‘The furthest I can keep you from that man, or ending up like him, the better.’ That’s what she used to say.” A soft snort sounded into the still of the night. “When I first rocked up at home with my prospect kutte, she smacked the shit outta me. Don’t think I ever told you that.”

He smiled then, looking up at the sky. “I used to think to myself that it was okay that we were apart after a while. I knew we were still under the same sky, and that made it alright.”

His forehead creased; a shudder of emotion trembling his sigh. “I used to imagine who you were, what you were like. I couldn’t ever remember much. The trike incident, I always remembered that. I know I’m like you, though. You were loud, and so can I be, too. Usually when I’m razzing the shit outta one of the guys, Downer or Bottles, or fuckin’ Nestor and his Pocahontas braids.”

He snorted laughing, shaking his head. “I remember you always had what was possibly the most awesome beard in the world, that was something I didn’t ever forget about you. Couldn’t believe how long it had gotten once you were out and we reconnected.” He scratched his own face, laughing again. “Ain’t quite there yet, dad.” Another swig of beer finished the bottle, Guero striking into the ground before him.

“I think what I’ll remember most though is your faith in yourself. You were so una-fuckin'-polagetic, This is me, and if you don’t like it, fuck you. Kinda think I got that right from you, too.” He rose to his feet, nodding towards the ground. “I just hope I live up to the legend that was Ibarra.”

Turning to walk back across the sandy terrain over to his bike, a tear slipped down his cheek. If he could live up to the legend of his father, he knew he’d be doing something right, making him proud. No amount of retribution would ever compensate for the fact that Ibarra wouldn’t ever bear witness to that, though.

Looking back over at the rock marking the desert grave, Guero swallowed hard. “Wish you were here and not there, Ain’t our life though. Ain’t what we sign up for.” Starting the engine, he secured his helmet, riding off into the night, back to what he signed up for.

Behind him, the dust swirled and then settled. Such is life.

#guero mayans mc #guero fanfiction #guero fanfic #guero imagine #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans season 5 #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic

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gregoftom · 1 year

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ever just watch and replay the kiss to feel some emotion in your chest

the commitment to it the length of it the softness the firmness the eyes closed the eye open and unwavering in their contact the holding of his head the touch to his cheek and shoulder the pause on leaving to turn and nod, like the need to linger there, the want, the more that could be but doesn't come, the lack of words, the unfettered emotion

the length of time of that fucking press of lips to greg's forehead. the most raw outpouring of tenderness. of gratefulness. of getting to have and to hold and to keep. of being overcome by happiness and the expression of that is to kiss greg with such affection and care

to linger on that for as long as he genuinely wants to

to feel feel feel

to be almost in tears by it!

to be surprised by his own self for doing it. to have acted without inhibition, and that's what came

it's the softest thing in the world

and when he releases the kiss, to behold this angelic face in his palms...

ohhh my heart is aching for him.

and he had to remove himself from the corporate room of wives and bosses to let himself experience something so in need of pouring out of him. to be able to express that in front of greg, with greg. his release, his escape, his levity, his friendship, his comforting anchor of security. the one he's found and orbits to constantly since. the one he wouldn't want to do this without. a partner. a grounding presence. someone to be free around. someone he doesn't need to hide any part of himself around. he can be a prick, he can be macho, he can be loving, he can be feminine, he can be playful, he can be flirty, he can be sad, he can be tired, he can be grumpy, he can be nurturing, he can be seen in his socially weak moments without embarrassment or fear, and in fact taking greg's metaphorical hand to help him so openly. he'll be closed-off and angry at times but he can be weak and vulnerable. he shows his belly with undoubting trust.

greg's his one person I don't think he should ever have to go without in his life

(and really they should spoon and fall asleep together about it)

christ anon you want me dead!!! bc alllll of this - and the way tom does a little gulp and blinks afterwards, like he almost cant believe he did that, the way greg searches tom’s eyes for the joke, for a razz, and it doesn’t come, only genuineness and affection so he nods, understanding, his hands clasped almost in prayer like he’s a disciple of this hurricane of a man. the way tom’s fingers pet the back of greg’s head, such a tender action and something he knows greg likes, to soothe and answer his question; is it real?

yes greg, yes it is. realer than anything in this shitass world where people put on a meatsuit and pretend every day of their lives. it’s real with you. i’m real with you.

and about the belly thing, SO true but an actual visual example of this is the wrist in america decides - he exposes his wrist which is a vital weak spot to greg when greg takes the coke from it, representing so much in terms of their relationship. tom can’t help but expose himself, he loves greg so much. and despite it getting him burned greg loves him too, kissing his hand when pretending to snort the drugs [toms ring hand btw, which shows subservience indicating that greg Likes to be in that kind of position with tom and thus chooses to be and explains his pure joy at the sticker scene] bc these mfs are so desperate to press lips to one another that they find any way they can. skin other than mouth because they’re both too afraid to do that but they find any way they can because they want each other so badly.

they should you’re SO right and tom jetpacks greg, we seen that boy wrap his own arm around himself, he wants to be cuddled! needs to be! so he’d be so at peace and happy and feel so safe to have tom’s thick and warm arm around him.

IKR damn like. that really happened!!! and greg did the same in 4.08!!! damn these bitches are gay!!!! good for them!!! good for them…

#tomgreg #now I cant stop thinking about itttt ughhhgbdbf #whenever i see the gif of forehead kiss i brrrrrrrrrr

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sticktopia · 11 months

Text

Freedom; An Animation VS fanfic

O!#_(# sighed as she walked into her room. She was exhausted from her long day. )(~#E hooked her bag on the corner of her bed before sitting at her desk. The 17 year old booted up her computer, swiftly unlocking it and opening up a chrome tab. The teen typed in a code, opening up a secret tab. As the tab opened up, !@#*h could see her little creations on the screen. They all sat around, doing their own thing. She smiled as she saw them having fun. !)!n$ then grabbed the visor charging next to the computer. The teen stood and climbed into her bed. As she sat in her bed, she placed the visor over her eyes before activating it and laying down. )@$in sighed as she closed her eyes and entered The Garden.

**********

Dandi sighed and stretched as she woke up. It had been a while since she had been to The Garden. It made her wonder what her little blossoms had been up to. Dandi stood and grabbed her choker off the nightstand. Once it was secured around her neck, she quickly left her room. Dandi then made her way out into the garden and took in a deep breath.

“It’s great to be back.” She sighed as she looked around. The skies were blue and the wind softly blew. Dandi quickly made her way to the fields. That’s where she last saw her Little Blossoms. Dandi happily skipped through the forest, humming a happy tune. She suddenly heard rustling in the bushes. Dandi paused and listened. She activated the cursor charm on her choker, making a copy and turning it into a sword. She held the cursor sword and readied herself for battle.

“HIYA!!!” Dandi quickly turned, slashing at the purple stick figure who jumped down on her. Aster laughed as he launched himself off the blade and backflipped onto his feet.

“Sharp moves.” He complimented. Dandi stood and held her sword gracefully.

“Could say the same for you.” Dandi said as she charged at the purple stick. Aster smiled as he ran full speed at his creator. Dandi swung and slashed at Aster. But the youngest stick figure was faster than her blade. As Dandi and Aster dueled, the other four then found their way over to them.

“Yall started fighting without me?!” Razz gasped in playful offense. Aster and Dandi stopped fighting and looked over at the small group.

“She was just walking around on her own! The urge to pounce was simply too powerful!” Aster dramatically exclaimed. Dani laughed as the blade dissipated.

“What can I say? Surprise attacks are great for training.” Dandi said as she and Aster joined the rest of the group.

“I must say, your swordsmanship is getting better.” Momo said as she bowed to Dandi.

“Well, I learned from the best.” Dandi chuckled as she elbowed Momo. Momo chuckled as she leaned on Dandi.

“You always can do better.” Rico offhandedly commented.

“She is doing her best. After all, she wasn't completely programmed like we were.” Bell casually explained. Rico shrugged and crossed his arms.

“Sure.” Rico said. Dandi suddenly appeared next to Rico, putting an arm around the orange stick’s shoulders.

“Don’t be a buzzkill Rico! One day, I will beat you.” Dandi said as she poked his cheek. Rico scoffed and smooshed Dandi’s face.

“As if.” He teased. Dandi giggled as she pulled away. Just as she was about to say something else, she felt a disturbance. Dandi paused and looked up at the sky. The others paused and followed her gaze.

“Is… Something wrong Dandi…?” Momo cautiously asked. Dandi took in a shaky breath.

“I-I dont know… Something… Doesn't feel right…” Dandi murmured. She then took another charm duplicate and stretched it out. She hopped on and the other five stepped on as well. The cursor then rose up, giving Dandi and her creations a birds eye view. As Dandi stared off into the distance, her little blossoms looked around, looking for danger.

“I don't think there’s anything wrong.” Razz said as she scanned the horizon.

“If nothing was wrong, Dandi wouldn't be spaced out like this.” Bel said as Aster climbed onto his shoulders. Aster squinted as he looked about. He then noticed something moving in the distance.

“What is that?” He wondered aloud. Bel looked up at Aster.

“What do you see?” Bel asked as they turned their head in the same direction Aster was looking. The others turned to see what Aster was seeing as well. For what they could see, it was small black specs. But those specs were quickly getting bigger and bigger.

“Scrapnuts!”! Dandi suddenly shouted. The giant cursor suddenly lowered itself, causing Dandi’s creations to yelp in surprise. Dandi lowered everyone into the forest.

“Whoa! Dandi calm down! What’s with you?!” Rico shouted as Momo kept him from falling off. Once the cursor reached the floor, it dissipated. Rico was about to demand answers when he saw the fear in Dandi’s eyes.

“D-dandi…?” Razz placed a hand on her shoulder. Dandi looked at all of them.

“We need to get home. NOW!” Dandi grabbed Razz’s hand and turned to run.

“Whoa! Hey!!!” Razz shouted as Dandi dragged them along. The others looked at each other with confusion before following their creator. They followed the yellow stick figure back to the house she built for them. As Dandi was about to reach for the door, she was suddenly stopped by a large flame. Dandi yelped and jumped back, avoiding the flames.

“Dandi!!!” Her blossoms shouted as they ran and helped her up.

“Are you ok?!” Aster asked as Dandi stood.

“I'm fine. But we need to-” Before Dandi could finish her sentence, she and her creations were surrounded by a bunch of black hollowheads. Dandi quickly drew a sword and shield before going in head first at the hollowheads.

“Dandi wait!” Bel tried to grab her but Dandi was already fighting the hollowheads head on.

“Oh for crying out loud-Let's just fight already!!!” Rico pulled out his daggers and ran to join Dandi. The others followed in suit, pulling out their weapons as well. They joined the fight, trying to fend off the hollow heads. As the fight ragged on, Bel noticed something peculiar. The hollow heads seemed to be leaving them, Momo, rico, aster, and Razz alone. Sure the hollow heads would shove them away every now and again, but the hollow heads seemed to be focused on one stick in particular. Bel’s eyes widened as he realized this. He ran through the sea of hollow heads and towards Dandi.

“Dandi!!! Dandi get outta here!!!” Bel shouted. Dandi grunted as she blocked one of the hollow head’s fire breath.

“I'd love nothing more but I'm kinda held up here!!!” Dandi shouted as she was swarmed. She screamed as the hollow heads began to overwhelm her.

“Dandi!!!” Her creations scrambled to save their creator. They fended off the many hollow heads, fighting to protect their creator. Rico made it to the middle first. When he got there, Dandi was underneath a big cursor. She was being attacked at every angle. Rico suddenly hopped into the middle of the violence and attacked all the hollow heads. The others hopped into the fight, keeping the fire away from their creator. Bel pulled up into the middle and smashed a smoke bomb. As the smoke covered their movements, Bel grabbed Dandi and they took off running. As Dandi's creations escaped into the forest, Bel looked down at Dandi. She was so weak in their arms. Bel pulled out another potion and popped the cork off. He held the bottle to her lips and let the potion go down her throat.

“Come on Dandi. We need you right now.” Bel muttered. Suddenly, there were lasers fired at Bel. He yelped and held dandi close as he tumbled. Bel groaned as they carefully sat up, still holding their creator.

“Bel! Are you ok?! What happened?!” Aster called. Suddenly, another laser blasted Bel. Bel cried out as he felt his very code being torn apart. Bel panted as the others surrounded him.

“Bel-” Another laser attacked the little group. They all looked up to see an unfamiliar stick on a hover motorcycle.

“Whoa he looks kinda cool.” Aster said. Razz smacked the back of Aster's head as the stick landed and came off the vehicle with a gun. Momo pulled out her own gun and pointed it at the mystery stick.

“Who are you?! What did you do to our friend?!” Momo demanded. The stick stood and stared her down.

“He was in my way.” The new stick said with a cold monotone voice. Momo stared him down.

“Why are you here?! What do you want?!” Momo barked at him. The invader lowered his gun.

“I am here to save you under the orders of my boss.” He said. Dandi’s creations looked at each other with confusion. Rico then spoke up.

“Uh, look dude. I don't know who you are or who you think you are, but we don't need saving. We’re perfectly fine here.” Rico sassed at the shady stick. He then shook his head.

“You are confused. You are brainwashed by your… creator.” His tone shifted ever so slightly as he said that word. He said it like it pained him to.

“Dandi? Dandi isn't brainwashing us. She’s our friend.” Razz said as she helped Bel drink a potion. The stick shook his head. As he was about to say something else, Dandi came to.

“What's going on?” She groaned as she sat up. The invader suddenly aimed his gun, causing the others to tense up and take battle poses. Bel held Dandi close to their chest, protecting her from the weapon.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” The strange stick growled. “Hand over the creator and you all can go free.”

“Fat chance. Now you better leave this world or things are going to get messy.” Razz growled. The strange invader sighed.

“The hard way it is then.” The stick suddenly fired at the group. Bel stood and ran away with Dandi while the others stayed behind.

“Whoa! Who is that?!” Dandi shoutted.

“No idea! But we gotta get you outta here! He’s trying to kill you!” Bel said as they looped around back to the house. As the duo came near the house, Bel slowed down and released Dandi.

“Stay low.” They said as they quietly crept through the thicket. Dandi silently followed their lead, peering through the bushes and seeing the house. At least, what remained of the house. Those “Chosen one” clones had torn it apart. There was no way for Dandi to safely return to her reality.

“Damn it.” Bel cursed as they saw the wreckage. They sat down and thought about ways to protect their creator. Bel glanced over at the creator. He could see the despair in her eyes. Her hands were shaking as well. Bel’s normally expressionless face softened. He wrapped an arm around Dandi, making her squeak.

“Don’t worry. I’m gonna get you out of here if it’s the last thing I-“ Suddenly, the world glitched. Dandi gasped as the forest and foliage suddenly disappeared. It was all just white. Bel and Dandi jumped to their feet, preparing for battle as they no longer had anything to hide behind. The chosen clones suddenly bolted at the pair. Dandi pulled out her charms and created a barrier around the two. Bel flinched as they felt intense heat from one side.

“Ok, you stay here and keep yourself in the barrier. I’ll-“

“But you’ll need help! I can-“

“You’re not ready to take in so many opponents at once! Let alone so many with powers. So protect yourself with your charm. I’ll fend them off for now.” Bel said before pushing through the charms and going to fend off the clones outside. Dandi was about to go after him when she was suddenly attacked by flames. She has owned and closed the entrance before a clone could come in. Dandi could hear the clones attacking the little cursor tent she created around her. She needed to get out of there before they broke through.

“Think Dandi, think!” She muttered. Dandi suddenly had an idea. Since the garden is no longer in play, she can manipulate the world with more freedom. Dandi tapped on her charm, opening up a small screen. She then began to furiously type on the screen. The ground below her then rose up high, knocking the clones off of her. Once she was freed from them, the cursors fell apart, allowing her to see what was happening. As she looked out into the distance, she could see Bel fighting off many Chosen clones to her right, and her other little blossoms fending off a familiar looking stick to her left. Dandi could have sworn she’d seen the stranger before. But she had no time to think about it as a chosen clone jumped up and attacked her.

Dandi yelped as she tumbled out of the way. As more clones came up to attack her, she turned off the screen and jumped from the tower she built. As she fell, she took her cursor form. Now she had more freerange, she could attack as if she was a separate entity. Snatch, toss, select and delete. Just like a video game. Dandi was holding out pretty well. But all of a sudden, white lasers started flying at her. Dandi dodged and avoided them as best she could. She turned to her left and saw the invader making his way towards her.

“Scrapnuts!” She cursed as she dodged the hoverbike’s attacks. When the stick got closer, Dandi grabbed him off his bike, causing it to descend to the empty plains below. As she held the invader, she noticed the sunglasses he wore. She then remembered where she had seen him before.

“You.” She growled as she flung him. Agent Smith was simply unbothered by the sudden movement. He opened his toolbar and pulled out his own cursor to surf on. Dandi stood in shock, seeing the things that he was doing. Dandi then switched back to her stick form. She stood silently upon her own cursor.

“You…. You're a creator….?” She stuttered in confusion. Agent Smith said nothing as he stared her down. Dandi was confused. A creator wanted to kill other creators? She had no time to ask why as the agent swiftly made his way towards her. Dandi moved out of the way before zooming away from him. Her thoughts were scattered as questions ran through her head. Suddenly, she felt something wrap around her neck.

Dandi choked out as she was pulled off her cursor. She looked up to see Agent Smith had his lasso tool around her neck. Dandi summoned another cursor, cutting the lasso and free falling. She pulled out another cursor and used it to paraglide her way down to safety. Once Dandi was on the ground, she took off running. Tapping on her charm, she opened up the screen once more to find out where her little blossoms were. Five little dots appeared on the screen, pointing her in the direction she needed to take. As dandi ran, little tranquilizers were raining down on her from the invader above.

“You gotta be kidding me!” Dandi shouted as she used her sword to deflect the upcoming darts. She finally made it to her blossoms, running up to them frantically.

“Guys! Guys we gotta-!” Dandi froze as she saw her little blossoms. They were all frozen. A big pause symbol on all five of them.

“What? No!” Dandi tried to unpause them, but nothing seemed to work. Dandi screamed as she suddenly felt a harsh shock on her back. Dandi fell to her knees panting as her body felt weak. Suddenly, agent smith pulled Dandi up by her neck. Dandi choked as he held her up. The young creator tried punching the agent, but she was far too weak to do any damage.

“L-let.. Me go!!” Dandi choked, tears streaming from her eyes. Agent Smith shook his head before reaching for Dandi’s choker. In one swift move, he yanked it off of her neck, causing Dandi’s body to freak out. Dandi’s body twitched and spazzed as it no longer had anything to hold it together. As her vision darkened and blurred, she made eye contact with her killer.

“Go to hell.” She cursed as she fell into the cold embrace of death.

#alan becker #ava #my ocs #agent smith #rocket agent #fanfic

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