#i use the right stick like it tells me to but apparently i'm too dumb lmao

[majflodder]

breaking news local woman keeps failing mission in rdr cause she can't figure out how to activate dead eye

[your-highnessmarvel]

Insatiable

AN: No one asked for this but the Butcher brain rot is crazy and i can't stop myself. Alas, I couldn't resist so welcome to the madness. Anyway, I went insane and absolutely wrote a devoted piece to this man. Jesus help me.

Warnings: dub-con (use of sex pollen-ish mind control), smut, fingering, language, and Butcher is a warning in and of itself.

MINORS DNI Below the cut

"I'm not wearing any underwear."

The admonition echoed in the habitat of Butcher's Cadillac like a bird's call. Even the sound of leather on leather, as the man sitting beside you slowly turned to examine you, wasn't loud enough to get the stupid ringing out of your head.

This had all started off like a bad scab you thought was healed but wasn't, and now it was bleeding all over your favorite pink pull.

Hughie and MM had uncovered a rightful piece of Temp V hideout; a Supe's mansion on the Upper East Side who, just happened, to be throwing one of his renowned "XXXchange" parties for Supes and their pets (this was how it was described on the e-vite MM hacked).

This Supe, still unknown to everyone because he kept the mansion under a random woman's name, was supposedly a Seven-in-the-making, as Hughie put it. If he could prove himself, he was next in line for a comfy beige seat in the Tower. So hence, him keeping and distributing Temp V to teens and young adults who didn't know any better.

So what had been Hughie's grand ol' plan? Bring you in. As the newest Supe member of The Boys, no one had yet seen your face. No one even knew of you. You were a low-level "barely considerable" Supe...as Butcher had put it the first time he blew the hinges off your front door.

Your power wasn't really a - well, a power at all. It was mostly an advancement, an intellectual add-on, or a sixth sense. You could read lies. More coherently, because someone with a beard and a giant stick up his ass didn't understand correctly--you could tell when someone was lying.

You weren't really an attribute to the team when it came to brute force. You left that up to Annie and Kimiko. But you had your perks, and since you were still under Vought's radar, you could slip through the cracks and get intel for the Boys.

Now why was Butcher with you, the most notorious Boys' member? Well, one might say he was eager to see your 2-hour fight training in practice, but really, it was because he "didn't trust a dumb twat with highly sensitive information and tech". His words.

So he'd garnished a Tommy Bahama blouse with pink flamingoes and palm trees and a matching set of swim shorts, sunglasses, and a stupid bright pink bucket hat that was way too small for his big ass head.

And now here both of y'all were, headed to the Upper East Side, dressed like a hooker and a pimp. Annie had insisted on this get up, a tiny, tiny pink skirt, a white bikini top, and a pink cover up with flip flops to finish off this fucking look. Because apparently, no one would let you in if you weren't A) a Supe and B) not dressed like a House Bunny.

"So you're tellin' me," Butcher drawled as the New York skyline darkened, "that your bare pussy is suction-cupping my leather seats?"

You crossed your arms. "I'm sitting at an angle."

Butcher slapped the wheel. "You should've told me earlier!" he laughed. You frowned in return when he swivelled that giant head of his towards you. "Come now, if you're not wearing panties, why should I, eh?"

"You wear panties?"

He hummed, regaining control of the road as the car slipped passed the last townhouse to enter Mansion Ville.

"I like you, little Truthteller," he mumbled to himself. "Thought you were a bit worthless at first, but you might just prove yourself tonight!"

You didn't dare answer the last bit, instead focusing on the details Annie and Hughie gave you before you flip-flopped your way into Butcher's passenger seat (and did absolutely not suction-cup his leather seats).

The idea was to go in and place a few bugs in and around the mansion in key locations. You could try to figure out who the Supe was or even find out where he stashed his V, but it didn't matter. The Boys would find out over the bugs.

The mansion Butcher parked the Caddie in front of was like a cookie-cutter version of the 90s PlayBoy mansion.

"Alright, love," Butcher sighed, killing the engine and stepping out, rounding the nose of the car to open the door for you. "Give 'em a nice peek of that minge, eh?"

You blushed from head to toe, a torment of fire assaulting your skin until Butcher caught on and chuckled low in his chest, helping you step out the car with his hand.

You still hadn't gotten used to the crass words that could tumble out of his mouth like vomit.

He guided you to the entrance, where a man dressed in black boxers and a black neck tie asked for your invite number, which you recited from the one Hughie gave you.

Then he asked, "And which is Supe and which is pet?"

You blushed even hotter. "Um." Your throat got sticky and dry all at once. "I'm the Supe and he's my... um, he's my-"

"Her pet," Butcher interrupted with a wide smile, the sunglasses hiding the glint in his eye that was surely showing. That ridiculous bucket hat made him look almost two heads taller than you as he bent down to whisper in your ear, "bark, bark."

You groaned inwardly as you lead him into the foyer, where a sprawling staircase lead to a mezzanine and a mahogany banister and a wide archway gave way to a mess of bodies in the living room.

"Oh my God," you mumbled, turning away from the onslaught of legs and arms and slithering bodies like a pile of snakes.

"Oh, nuh-uh," Butcher chuckled, grabbing you by the shoulders, steering you right into the mass of party-goers, moaning and groaning and thrusting into one another or bouncing on top of each other like mad dogs. "If you want to play the part, you have to look the part." His mouth was right next to your ear, and for some reason, the breath caressing your skin sent a slowly gliding shiver down your spine.

Why was this happening?

You felt the flesh melt where his fingers lay, clutching at your shoulders, pulling your coverup off of you.

"Butcher," you said, stopping his hand.

He shook his head. "Show them what you got, mama," he whispered again, the rough of his beard tracing against your cheek. He scooped the coverup off your shoulders and threw it across the room, leaving you in your bikini top.

Butcher had never seen you so exposed before. You'd always worn pants and t-shirts around the safe house, so watching all that bare skin available to his hungry eyes flipped a switch in his head.

A woman, tall and elegant, cream skin and sultry black eyes, approached you before Butcher could do something stupid. He straightened up, lifting the sunglasses from his nose.

"Miss, look at you," he cooed.

Miss was naked. Someone had left a bite mark on her right breast, just above her peaked nipple. She was so long-limbed and beautiful, and the sight of her naked body made you turn away instinctively.

"I like you," she said, voice low and husky, like a purr.

"I like you too, sweetheart," Butcher answered, the heat of his body completely leaving you as he zeroed in all his attention on the naked, wanting lady before you.

She huffed. "You're great too," she answered, and when you turned, her lascivious brown eyes were settled on you. "But it's her that I want."

Butcher gasped and then erupted in laughter, taking the bucket hat off his head and putting it to his heart. "Woah, I never imagined I'd see this in my lifetime."

The other woman smiled slowly and you gulped. She was pretty, but she was also not part of the mission.

So you back-peddled.

You put a delicate hand to Butcher's arm, digging your nails into his skin, and put on a lovely, sweet smile for the offering girl. "That's nice of you," you said, voice sultry like a wet candy cane. "But we're more interested in watching." As you said this, you dropped into your act as best you could, mustering up the strength not to blush but to play the part of the sex-obsessed Supe.

She brightened up at this, gesturing to Butcher. "Well I could fuck him while you watch," she suggested.

Butcher's body tensed up against you and he turned to you. "Please say yes," he mumbled.

You smiled, throwing him a glance. "Both of us are watchers," you corrected, watching as she bowed her head, a lustrous gleam in her eye.

"It would've been a pleasure," she said before walking away.

When she was climbing onto another woman's lap, Butcher grabbed your bicep and brought you into a corner, sheltered in the dim lighting of the room, smothered under the moans and groans and the sloppy sounds of...intercourse.

"You were this close to fulfilling a fantasy of mine," he groaned, and when you looked up, he looked more angry than turned on.

"We're not here so I can watch you have sex with a woman, asshole!" you gritted between your teeth. ''We're here to plant bugs and find some V."

He huffed, rearranging his Tommy Bahama. "I'm obeying just because you're wearing this outfit," he grumbled, following you as you led them into the next room.

A kitchen, stock full with boxes of canned beverages and food platters.

"Okay, here." You pointed to the dinner table in the adjacent room, a teakwood marvel that surely housed a few meetings or two.

Butcher expertly placed a bug under the table.

You meandered safely through the house, planting bugs in various living rooms, meeting rooms, and spare bedrooms. Whenever some couple or lone masturbator dedicated their attention to you both, you pretended to watch, Butcher enlacing you in his arms.

It's only then you noticed how tall, how big this man was. He was easily dwarfing you by just standing there, your head against his chest, his fingers drawing lazy circles against your exposed spine.

When the onlookers would pass, he'd chuckle as you pushed him away like he was a booger wall.

But the more you traveled in the house, the more people seemed to stare, wanting, questioning. So you ended up holding Butcher's hand, at his command: "Wouldn't want the lovely ladies stealing you away, eh?"

And hand holding turned into his arm around your shoulders, the tip of his very long fingers ghosting your breast.

"Let's go upstairs," he whispered in your ear once he'd bugged up the toilet.

"Ew, no."

He sucked his teeth. "I mean," he gritted, pushing you up against a wall when a man with a considerably large strap on made his way towards you. Butcher bent down, squeezing the breath from your lungs as he grazed his mouth on your bare shoulder. He pressed a featherlight kiss, all while observing the passing man, dragging his lips up to your ear. "We should go bug up the rooms, eh? Maybe see if we can find this cunt's V supply?"

You nodded, a wicked shiver pebbling your flesh.

Butcher blew cold breath onto the thin line of saliva he'd left on your skin. "Cold?"

You swallowed hard. "Let's just go."

He chuckled as you grabebd his hand and led him back to the stairs, galloping up to the second floor.

Truth is, you'd never imagined Butcher like this. He was so arrogant and he loved to make people jump out of their skins by how uncomfortable they were with him, but you'd chopped it up to the old chip on the block; Butcher pushing people away to keep himself safe.

So when the Boys had initiated you, you'd figured it'd be best to steer clear from this tyrant of a man. He was way older than you anyway, and he was always calling you every name in the book except your government given one. And he was always dismissing your ideas, so you'd always assumed he had an image of an immature little girl in his head.

But he'd dreamed of you more times than he cared to count. The messed up parts of his brain, where most of it was left behind in his old life, conjured up hauntings of you every night. Of those soft, plump lips whenever you'd eat cherries. Of your legs in your pajama shorts and your giggle when Kimiko signed something stupid. Of that perfect little body of yours.

"Okay, in here." You interrupted his chain of thought, the one that was going to crash into a puddle brains that would eventually leak out of his ear.

You lead him into a room, which turned out to be some kind of antechamber with a hearth and a giant portrait of a small, bald man.

"He looks like a mouse," you muttered.

But Butcher froze, tearing his hand away from yours. "Oh, fuck me," he groaned, putting his sunglasses and hat onto the low table. "That's the fucking Seducer."

Your skin crawled. You turned, examined Butcher's expression as he leaned against the far wall. "This cum guzzler is the one trafficking V?" he thought to himself, just as you asked, "who's the Seducer?"

Butcher turned to examine you across the room, lit by a few lights in the sconces. "He's the world's number 1 date raper," he answered, frowning. "This guy can intoxicate the female species into a mad heat, like dogs."

"What?" You frowned.

Butcher walked a bit closer, turning his head to watch you out of one eye, like a bird. "Yeah, he secrets this hormone on a whim and boom, bitches go mad for his dick."

"Oh." You swallowed, turned to push the handle of another door, leading to a darkened room fit for a king. "I think this is his room."

Butcher muttered behind you, "Lucky guy if you ask me."

"Trouble getting women, Butcher?" you asked absentmindedly as you entered the dark room, lights from the lawn outside filtering milky-white through the windows, illuminating your path like a trail of snow.

Butcher followed, closing the door behind you. "Not really," he answered, immediately pulling cubbards and drawers open. "The ladies love me."

"Oh, yeah I bet," you muttered, pulling open the wardrobe. A loose floorboard creaked loudly and you froze, turning to meet Butcher's eye.

He scrambled to where you stood, pressing on the floor and repeating the awful creaking sound.

"Pants jizzer must be keeping the V under his floor," he mumbled, pressing until at least 6 floorboards rose from the ground on one end, a whole door to the underside of the Seducer's floor.

"Bingo," you giggled, helping Butcher pull the damn thing open. But there was nothing there, only an empty black space that could've fit maybe two people, gaping at you like a dark maw. "He must have transfered them," you whispered.

"Or he's trafficking other things," Butcher replied darkly.

Just as you were about to close the floorboards, a loud thud rang out in the antechamber. You froze, listening, until a feminine giggle made you and Butcher lock eyes.

"Get in," he whispered, motioning to the black pit under your knees.

"In here!?" you whispered tightly.

Whoever was on the other side was making their way towards the room, painstakingly, and this was not the place you and Butcher needed to be found.

"Yes, fuck, get in," he insisted, and your heart thudded so loudly, so harshly against your throat you thought it would burst right out through your chest.

Shaking, you got into the little space, falling onto your back because you couldn't see where this thing ended. As soon as you got your hair out of your eyes, Butcher was tumbling onto you, closing the floorboards a millisecond before the bedroom door burst open.

Sound was immediately muffled, like being underwater, and the only thing you could hear was your breathing. Butcher's breathing over you. Your heart in your throat, nauseating you, the adrenaline rushing like a flood in your veins.

Butcher's chest heaving against yours, the entire length of him pressed up on you like a heavy blanket.

"Get off," you whispered, feeling the heat of his forearm next to your head.

"There's no space," he grumbled, his voice catching on your cheek, your neck, as he tried to maneuver himself every which way that meant he wasn't pressed up on you, but he was just so damn big, like hiding with a grizzly bear, that whenever he tried to move, he just ended up being half on and half off you.

"Fuck it," he grumbled, pressing one hand under your thigh, wrenching a gasp from your throat as he placed himself comfortably between your legs.

The pressure of him on your bare bottom half made you freeze, heart hammering like an angry drum against your ribcage. The way you were positioned, thighs wide open, knees bent each side of his waist, made the skimpy little skirt bundle up onto your tummy, leaving you completely bare.

"Hush up, little thing," Butcher whispered in your ear, holding himself up on his forearms as not to crush the breath out of you. But his voice was wretched, pulled and tight, no doubt reacting to the heat he could feel through the thin fabric of his swim shorts.

The noise overhead intensified; a moan, a few garbled words, thudding.

"They're going to do it while he lie here," you whispered, hands balled up by your sides.

Butcher chuckled silently, breath fanning your neck. "So we really are voyeurs."

You smiled, holding back a giggle until a heavy thud caught your attention and the voices suddenly got a bit clearer. They were right over you.

A woman's voice floated through. "How ever I can serve you, Seducer."

The last word made your insides coil in fear. It looked like this woman was answering a command from the Seducer himself, the man who owned this house, who trafficked all the V and worked with Vought.

"Fuck," Butcher muttered. "This is worse than I thought."

"Why?" you asked silently, your fingers trembling against your thighs.

You felt him bend forward, his body tight like a rod. "This is going to hurt, love."

And just as you were about to ask what he was about to do, a soft pang echoed in your lower belly, like someone had tied a rope to your bellybutton and pulled. You squirmed, the thudding overhead leading back to the bed.

The pulling again, making you heave in a breath, squeeze your eyes shut. "No, no, no," you muttered, feeling an ache build between your legs, a force pull through your veins like molten honey.

The Seducer was using his power. And it wasn't just affecting the woman he was with... it was starting to affect you.

You felt yourself clench on nothing but air when the ache throbbed against your clit, like an invisible vacuum seal had closed over it, and you lifted your hips off the floor slightly.

Butcher immediately grabbed your hip, bringing you back down forcibly, sending a new wave of heat, of ache, of hurt through your body just at the touch of his bare fingers on your bare hip.

"Don't," he breathed, his word clipped. "Don't do that."

He could feel the heat of you through his shorts, just how impossibly hot you were, probably dripping from the Seducer's power, and the little control he exhibited around you was pulling quite taut.

"It hurts, Butcher," you gritted through your teeth, hands settling on his shoulders for support as another wave of need, of painful, painful need, throbbed through your body like a pulsing nuclear explosion. Your legs tightened around his waist, nails digging into the fabric of his Tommy Bahama. "Make it stop," you pleaded, heaving, throwing your head back, bucking your hips to get the pain to stop. Just stop.

Butcher huffed, cradling your face, his insides in turmoil with his brain. God had given him such a gift right now, a chance to take you, mark you as his, finally fuck that perfect little body--and he didn't know if he was man enough to stop himself.

You groaned in pain, subconsciously grinding your bare pussy against his thigh, searching for any kind of friction, of relief. Your skin was so hot, sweat beading your forehead as you braced through another wave of this unknown ache, throbbing relentlessly against your clit, deep inside you, just grazing your g-spot.

Your fingers balled into fists against his shirt, your face finding his chest, and you sobbed, "Make it stop, Butcher, please, it hurts."

You weren't aware that your hips had started grinding against his thigh, the knee he'd placed between your legs for leverage. And just the fact that he could feel his shorts getting soaked had him straining against the stitches of his sanity.

"There's only one way," he breathed against your ear. You sobbed, heaving, breathing raggedly, grinding so hard on his knee it was almost pathetic. "Are you sure you want to try?" he asked, voice trembling.

You sniffed, hung onto his neck for dear life. "Please, anything, this is--ah--this is unbearable."

He bent his head, mumbled for God to forgive him, and then pressed a deep, hard kiss on your lips, pressing you back into the floor completely. Somewhere above him, he heard a woman moan loudly, but the only thing that registered to him was the way you clung to him like a pawing animal.

A strangled moan, quiet and restrained, left your throat, caught behind your teeth as he ravaged your mouth.

"N-no," you mumbled. "No."

He pulled away, kissing your jaw, your neck until your were humping his thigh like a woman gone mad.

"This the only way, little Truthteller," he murmured in your ear, dragging his knee away and feeling your entire body go stiff against him.

A whine, like delicious music, lifted to his ear and he groaned inwardly. He had to convince himself he was doing it for you, but half of him was delighted at the idea of finally having you. Like a meal he'd been mouth-watering over for some time, and now it was fresh and warm right in front of him.

"I need," you muttered, groaning through another wave of the Seducer's power, your hips bucking into nothing. "I need..."

"You need to cum, little dove," Butcher whispered, caressing the side of your face and you shook your head.

"No."

"Yes, love," he muttered, tracing the line of your neck, down your chest until he softly cupped your breast.

A quiet moan rippled along your throat like a symphony to his ears. He played with your hard nipple through the fabric until he pushed it aside and replaced his thumb with the warmth of his mouth.

"Fuck," you whispered, pushing against his shoulders. "This is wrong." Your voice was so thin.

Butcher lapped at your nipple like an ice cream cone. "Want me to do this to your pretty little pussy?" he mumbled, and the crass words sent a hot wave of need pulsing painfully between your legs.

His other hand skimmed down your side, over the swell of your hip, and down to where you needed him most.

When he swiped a slow finger across your soaked folds, the grunt that left him was purely predatory. "You're so fucking wet," he whispered, to the accompanying sound of your panting. He brushed his thumb across your clit, holding you down as you jolted, flicking his tongue against your nipple.

"Butcher, please," you begged.

"Billy, love," he whispered, raising his head to kiss the corner of your mouth, brushing his thumb against your clit once more to capture your gasp in his kiss. "Call me Billy."

You gripped onto his shoulders, feeling the wide, powerful muscle of his right hand playing with you.

He pressed three fingers flat against you and you bucked, searching for more, as he circled slowly, starting you off.

"Say it," he commanded quietly, circling your clit faster.

"Billy," it came out as a whine and he groaned lowly, capturing your lips and kissing down your throat. The way his fingers played you like a harp wrenched a pornographic moan from your throat and immediately, Billy put a hand over your mouth, the skin between his thumb and forefinger snug under your nose.

"Quiet for me, little Truthteller," he whispered.

He moved his fingers to your entrance and slipped one in so easily it was almost embarrassing. He cooed at you, gliding his finger in and out so slowly it was almost arrogant. "So fucking wet, this perfect little hole."

You keened, squeezing your eyes shut at his crude words, searching for more friction until the heel of his hand pressed snuggly against your clit.

Your hips moved on their own, bucking against his hand as he pumped his finger, faster and faster until your pants turned into hyperventilating and your legs started to close around his hips.

"Got my whole hand drenched, pretty love," he whispered. "That perfect little cunt can handle another finger?"

You preened against his hand, your sounds muffled against his large, meaty palm and he chuckled at you.

The second finger was a tighter fit, his thick digits spreading you and squelching into you slowly.

"Ah, there's my girl," he moaned in your ear. "Fucking my fingers like a good girl."

You wanted to tell him to quit teasing, to bring you to orgasm as quickly as possible because the heat stirring under your skin was insatiable, but you didn't understand how much Billy was enjoying himself. He didn't know when he'd get a chance to have you so willingly spread open for him again, or if he'd ever get the chance again. So he savored this moment like a dying man's last meal.

He let you adjust to his fingers, fucking them into you, palming your clit before he thrust in another finger, opening you wide to him. You gurgled against his hand, muffled moans and pleas stuck behind his palm.

He didn't miss just how tight you were around his fingers, how snug and warm. "So tight, my little love," he cooed, thrusting his fingers in and out slowly, enjoying the way your hips bucked.

The sloppy sounds of your cunt sucking on his fingers drove you mad and a hot, painful knot formed in your belly, pulling and tugging at your insides.

He felt you trembling, your orgasm on the horizon, and he lifted his hand off your mouth, capturing your lips in a warm, sloppy kiss.

"Want you to cum with my name in your mouth," he mumbled, almost incoherent in his chase for your climax. He pressed his thumb to your mouth, opening it, listening to your panting, your quiet moans as he fucked his fingers into your cunt, pressing down on your clit, rubbing it with his palm.

"Billy," you breathed. "Billy. Billy." Like a mantra, a prayer.

"That's it, my pretty girl," he whispered, thumb on your tongue, fingers fucking your pussy until that knot in your bely tightened impossibly and your legs went numb. "Cum my pretty dove, gush all over my hand, come on now."

He grunted against you, and somehow, that guttural, manly sound made stars explode in your belly and you came, shuddering his name quietly, over and over and over until the pleasure had seeped out of your veins and you crumbled back to the floor. You felt his fingers slip out of you, his wet hand pull your knee apart, press against the meat of your thigh, spreading you wide, wide open.

He slithered down your body like a snake, pushing you up against the confines of this box until you felt the warm breath of him against your clit. When he lapped at you, humming around your hole like a satiated man, you mumbled his name, searching with your hands until you grabbed onto the thick strands of his hair. Panting, you mumbled his name again.

"Just having a taste, love," he mumbled, sucking on your over-sensitive clit until the heat came blasting through you again, all over, like you were under the Seducer's spell again.

"Fuck," you gritted, biting your lip, caging in the awfully loud, guttural moan that wanted to spring free.

Billy grabbed onto your hips, holding them down, his forearm over your belly like an anchor.

"One more, little Truthteller," he mumbled, flicking your clit with his tongue, his beard scraping on the inside of your sensitive thighs.

"Billy, please," you whined softly.

"Always wanted a taste," he said. Not a lie. "Always wanted to tongue-fuck this perfect hole." Not a lie.

He pressed his tongue flat to your clit, sucked and nibbled on it until he pressed his tongue right into your cunt, fucking you with his tongue like he'd promised. The mix of his hot breath, his tongue inside your walls, his thumb working on your clit made all your senses flush full of adrenaline. Bucking against his face, you rode his mouth until another flash burst through you and you came all over his face, grinding down on his nose until the last waves of your orgasm had left you.

When he climbed back over, kissing your belly, your nipple, covering you with his warmth, you were just a numb shell of the girl you were when you walked in here.

Billy kissed your jaw, your neck, stroking your hair as you regained your senses.

Whoever had been overhead had gone. It was completely silent. And it left you wondering if that last wave of need had been the Seducer's spell or Billy's.

"We should go, love," he whispered. "Before I stuff you full of my cock and have you cumming on it for the third time."

His filthy mouth brought you back to your body, cold and sweaty and oh so comfortable with two orgasm singing in your veins.

"Yeah," you whispered as Billy pushed the trap door open, peaking out to make sure the coast was clear, and then hopping out. He helped you out with his hand, gentle and calm, smoothing down your hair, covering your nipple, patting down your two-inch skirt.

"I've made a real good mess of you, love, eh?" he chuckled, standing and taking your hand. "Was I a good pet?"

[thursdaygxrls]

thin ice — one

part one | part two | part three

summary — she didn’t handle the sports section of the campus newspaper, but apparently, she did this week. interviewing hockey players was easy, though—unless one of those players happened to be peter parker.

pairing — uni hockey player!peter parker x fem!journalist!reader

disclaimers — i don’t own peter parker. and pls don't come for me with the accuracy of this situation i'm begging

warnings — reader is referred to as ‘kitty’ (there’s a reason, i promise), slight one sided enemies to lovers, sewer slide jokes (very briefly), possible maybe slightly ooc, and very unedited

“You’re joking. You’re pulling the biggest prank I’ve ever seen, you are the impractical joker,” she huffs out, her eyes wide as furiously clicks her mouse, “I’m gonna die. I’m writing the note tonight—farewell, my lovely!”

“Woah, okay,” MJ, her roommate, had only just entered the room when she was bombarded with a sudden rant. She didn’t even have time to take down her ponytail of thin, red braids before her eardrums were assaulted.

“I mean it.” Spinning her chair, she meets MJ’s eyes.

“I literally just got here,” MJ plops down on the bed in front of the desk, “Care to tell me why you’re writing that note?”

“I’m a dumb, dumb girl, that’s why,” she groans in response.

“We already knew that.” MJ’s words only cause the girl in front of her to shoot daggers with her gaze; “Sorry, sorry. Why are you a dumb, dumb girl?”

“God, okay, so,” she lets out a loud sigh, “Eli is gonna be gone for the rest of the month—Europe or something, good for him. Anyways, they needed someone to cover his assignments for him until he gets back, and I volunteered, but, like, only to be nice, y’know? I did it as an obligation. But…”

“But?” MJ pressed.

“I just got an email, and it’s me,” she grumbled, “They’re putting me on Eli’s assignments.”

“Hm, I see,” MJ’s lips curl into a frown as she gently rubs the girl’s arm, “Too much work?”

“Oh, no, my stuff’s easy,” she waved her off, “Just reading the poetry submissions. I mean, it can be exhausting, but it’s not too bad.”

“Then what is it?” MJ cocks her head.

“Eli…Eli does sports,” she shuddered. MJ couldn’t contain the loud laugh that slipped out, clamping a hand over her mouth to stifle it.

“You’re worried about sports?” She giggles, her eyes twinkling.

“It’s not funny!” She smacks MJ lightly, “Sports aren’t unbearable or anything, but, like, why me? I don’t know enough! I’ll screw it up, I’ll lose my spot, they’ll stick me back in—”

“Relax,” MJ grabs her shoulders, bringing her closer, “First off, no, you won’t lose your spot, we both know they’d be losing their minds without you. Second, they wouldn’t just throw it on you if they thought you’d give them bad work, right?” She eyes MJ almost suspiciously. There’s a momentary stare-down before she relents.

“I hate that you’re right,” she sighs, spinning her chair around. MJ stops the spin by putting her hands down on the arms of the chair.

“Thought you’d be used to it by now,” she giggles, “So, what do you have to do?”

“I don’t know.” Is the mumbled reply.

“You didn’t even look?” MJ laughs again, “You were losing your mind, and you didn’t even know what you’re doing?”

“I’m sorry that I’m sensitive,” she huffs. Her gaze moves back to the laptop before her. The email is open on the screen, so she begins scrolling through it, MJ reading the words over her shoulder. Her eyes nearly bulge out of her head when she gets to the end.

“Fuck this,” she almost slams her laptop shut, but is stopped short by MJ.

“Slow down!” The redhead slaps her hand out of the way to read the rest of the email.

The ESU hockey team had made it to the NCAA Division I Men's Ice Hockey tournament for the first time in six years—and they were doing damn good. Eli had been tasked with interviewing the team captain as well as a few other star players, but, of course, it was no longer Eli's job.

"Oh, come on,” MJ rolled her eyes, “They gave you a Google Doc with questions, all you have to do is ask them and write down their response."

“That's the problem, I have to ask,” she shivered.

"You've done interviews before!" MJ was ready to smack her.

"With professors! And cool artsy people! Not hockey guys," she cringed, “I bet half of them are in a frat. They're probably gonna be assholes and tell me I have cooties."

“Are you twelve?” MJ groaned, “You sort of lucked out with this—half the work is already done for you! You don’t need to write up any questions!” A sigh left her lips as she took on a more comforting tone: “If it makes you feel any better, Harry is on the team.”

Ah, Harry. MJ had been seeing him for a little over a month by now. He wasn’t a bad guy at all. A little full of himself, but nice enough to talk to. Her eyes roved over the list of players she was set to interview. Sure enough, Harry Osborn was there. So was Miles Morales, who was described as an extremely promising freshman. Zack Coleson, who had the highest number of goals for the season. Last on the list was the team captain: Peter Parker.

“I can talk to Harry,” MJ offered, “I can let him know that it’s you doing the interviews. I’ll make sure he tells them to go easy on you—”

“No, no,” she shook her head, “That might make it worse. And they already know that it’s not Eli coming. Or they should, at least”

“You sure?” MJ quirked a brow, her features crinkling in a way that was only intelligible as concern.

“They’ll be walking on eggshells around me if they know I’m chickenshit, I won’t get a good interview,” she sighed. Even if the interview wasn’t what she wanted to do, she was going to have to. And she would do a good job—a great job.

“You got this, Kitty,” MJ squeezed her shoulders. The nickname pulled a smile from her, and she gave into MJ’s touch.

“We’ll see about that,” she relented. Her eyes traveled back to the computer screen. The interviews were scheduled two days from now at the Stark Memorial Rink.

“Hey, MJ,” she hummed, “Could you grab me my noose?”

The rink was colder than she expected. The empty stands provided no body heat, not to mention there was a literal sheet of ice on the floor. Tugging at the strap of her messenger bag, she took slow, careful steps to the plexiglass.

Clink.

Her eyes widened. There were around ten to fifteen guys in full gear out on the ice, and another ten to fifteen more on a bench near the glass or flitting around the edge of the rink. She was nervous, so she got there early. Now, she was stuck watching them practice.

Leaving was so tempting. She could go back to her dorm, or better yet, leave college entirely. She could just give up and fall off the grid, cut her credit cards, throw her phone in the ocean, sail off to Greece—

“Hello?”

She cursed the muffled voice that pulled her back into reality. Blinking, she found that standing before her was one of the very hockey players she’d seen skating on the rink before her. He was tall, and gear under his black and purple jersey made him appear far more bulkier than she theorized he was. He slipped his helmet off to reveal brown, curly hair that was drenched in sweat.

“Hi,” she replied, trying not to sound as nervous as he would. He cocked his head at her as he popped out his mouth guard.

“This is a closed practice,” he said, though, he didn’t sound all too upset that she was here.

“Oh, yeah, I know,” she nodded quickly, her fingers toying with the strap of her bag again, “I’m a bit early, I’m supposed to be interviewing some people on the team. I’m—”

“Kitty?” She was interrupted by the sound of a voice as well as skates scraping across the ice. Glancing past the guy in front of her, she saw Harry slide off the ice and clomp to benches where they currently were.

“Hey, Harry.” Her lips were screwed up in a tight grin. He’d heard MJ call her Kitty once, and now it was the only thing he’d refer to her as.

“Kitty?” Mystery guy repeated the name with a hint of intrigue.

“It’s not my real name, my friends just call me that,” she shook her head.

“What’re you doing here?” Harry asked, swinging an arm around the shoulder of the guy in front of her.

“I’m Eli’s replacement,” she explained, trying to plaster a friendly smile to her lips, “I’m doing the interviews.”

“Aw, shit, why didn’t MJ tell me we got the cool Kitty-cat on the case?” Harry grinned.

“Could you try to never say those words again? Really hated it, thanks,” her nose crinkled.

“You got it.” He tried to point finger guns at her, but with the thick gloves on, it just looked like he was pointing his whole hand.

“Hey,” he started up again, “You’re a little early, so practice isn’t over yet, but we’re almost done. It’s just the four of us, right?”

“Right,” she nodded in response. It was a relief that they’d been briefed on the situation.

“Alright, well, I’m Harry, obviously, Miles and Zack are on the ice somewhere, and this right here—” Harry jostled the shoulders of the Mystery guy, “—is Peter. Oh captain, my captain!”

Peter chuckled as Harry clapped him on the back. The noise that emanated from the friendly hit was harsh, but Peter didn’t move a muscle.

“Right,” she nodded, “So, I figured we could do them individually? There’s some sort of specific questions for each of you.”

“Sounds good, Kitty,” Harry replied. She’d smack him if he said that name again.

“Sit tight for a bit,” Peter spoke up. Even with the stubble on his chin, his smile gave him a boyish appearance. He looked her up and down quickly, “We can try to wrap up practice early.”

'A bit' ended up feeling like forever. At first, she tried to distract herself with her phone, but it didn't work: she would open apps, scroll through them, then close them just to reopen them over and over again. So she organized her bag, which took about five minutes. Time seemed to tic by in a tauntingly slow manner. It was only when she saw a few of the players emerge from the locker room did she let out a breath of relief. She immediately sucked that breath back when she realized that she would actually have to talk to some of them.

Harry went first. It was easy enough to go through the questions with him. It was like talking to an over-eager relative at a family reunion, one who was just dying to talk about all the new things they're doing. Miles wasn't all that bad to interview, either. He was a lot more nervous than she was. His awkward pauses and constant strings of 'um' and 'uh' was almost comforting. Then came Peter.

"Kitty," he grinned as soon as he saw her seated on the bench next to the rink. He no longer wore his gear—just a hoodie and a pair of gray sweats. His hair, however, was still wet and tousled. She gave him a tight lipped smile in return.

"That's not my name," she replied. Before she had time to properly introduce herself, his raspy chuckle was already echoing through the open arena.

"You said that's what your friends call you, right?" He cocked his head as he sat down on the other edge of the bench.

"You're not—” If she could just make it through the interview without fuss, she'd be one person away from being free, "—right. That's what my friends call me."

"I'm going to be recording this, just so I can reference it later," she explained almost monotonously.

"This isn't my first time," he responded with another light laugh. She had to physically bite her tongue to fight off any comments. A soft click sounded from her phone as she started a new voice memo. Her eyes scanned the list of questions on the page before her. Some she'd already asked to Harry and Miles: How does it feel to make the tournament? What is the atmosphere of the team right now? She chose a fresh question to start with.

"What's it like to be the captain of this team? Are you proud? Overwhelmed?" She asked, her voice taking on a new tone closer to a news anchor than a regular person. Peter's lips curled up at the change.

"I'm proud, yeah," he nodded, his voice smooth, "This is a great group. But we all work our asses off, so I'm not surprised by how far we've come. Being their captain is really something."

"And—"

"Do you normally do sports? For the paper, I mean." Before she could even get her next sentence out, he interrupted her. Her grip on the papers in her hand tightened.

"No, not normally," she grit out, "And going along with your thoughts on being captain, what about making it to the tournament this year?"

"It's the best feeling in the world. It's something I've been chasing after for years now, finally getting to it is just...sort of indescribable." Even when his tone is nothing but sincere, he can't wipe the cocky grin from his lips.

"I can imagine," she smiled tautly in reply, "What was it like working your way up to captain? Was it a personal journey, or did you get support from the team?"

"I'd say it was an even mix of both," he hummed, "Do you like hockey?"

"What?" She furrowed her brows.

"Are you a hockey fan?" He reiterated, "Because our next game is home, and it's sort of packed, but I could get you some tickets assuming you don't have some already—"

"No—Peter," she let out a frustrated huff, tapping on her phone to momentarily pause the recording, "This is an interview, not social hour."

"Aren't interviews inherently social?" His smirk was infuriating.

"I mean that I ask the questions, you answer them," she grumbled, "Do you act like this with Eli? Are you not taking me serious because I'm a woman?"

"What?" His smirk fell immediately, "What? No—no. I'm taking you seriously, I take women very seriously. I'm all for women. They're great."

"Then can we just do this interview and get it over with?" She sighed, her finger hovering over the unpause button. He nodded, but before she could resume the interview, he quickly added: "But do you want tickets?"

Ignoring the question, she carried on. Peter seemed to mellow out after a while and didn't interrupt again. It was almost surprising how well he'd listened: he was giving her real, insightful answers to her questions without a hint of flirtation. The final interview with Zack flowed easily, and she fled Stark Memorial Rink as quick as she could.

Transcribing the interviews was the easiest part. Days later, she would be hunched over her computer in the darkness of her shared dorm, playing and replaying the recordings and typing out the words onto the screen. Her concentration was briefly interrupted, though, when the door opened and a stream of light threaded its way through the room and onto the back of her head.

"Light bad!" She slapped her hands over her eyes, "Light very bad!"

"You're gonna go blind if you keep staring at your computer in the dark," MJ spoke in a warning tone, but ultimately closed the door.

"Then blind I must go," she sighed, swiveling on her chair to look at her roommate, "How was class?"

"Normal," MJ shrugged, sliding her bag off her shoulders, "But I have a little something for you."

"Something for little ol' me?" She gasped in dramatized delight.

"Yes," MJ grinned widely as her hand reached for the zipper of her bag, "Close your eyes."

She obliged immediately, her nose scrunched in anticipation, "I hope it's a million dollars. Is it a million dollars? Am I close?"

"Almost," MJ giggled. After a moment of anticipation, MJ gently grabbed her hands and place something into them. It was thin and papery and rectangular. Opening her eyes, she looked down to see a white envelope with 'Kitty' written out on the front. Her brows furrowed at the unfamiliar handwriting.

"Is there a check for a million dollars inside?" She asked as she cocked her head.

"No clue, it's not from me," MJ shrugged.

"Then who's it from?" Her fingers slid under the lip of the envelope.

"Harry gave it to me to give to you," MJ grinned, "He said it's from Peter."

She should've sailed to Greece when she had the chance. Inside the envelope were two tickets—Empire State University versus Pennbrook University this Saturday at seven. A long groan left her lips before she finally met MJ's eyes.

"You never got me that noose I asked for."

a/n — not sure how i’m feeling abt this one guys. hockey peter has been causing me brain rot tho so i couldn’t help myself.

[lunarriviera]

hi hey hello i have started watching a new crime drama and I AM OBSESSED. it's called 雪迷宫 or, for some reason, The First Shot, although it should be more properly Snow Maze. it's a period piece set in 1997 and it's produced by ZHANG YIMOU which must be why the production values are actually good??? anyway i am here to tell you all about it and why you should be watching it okay here we go

first of all there's a big hot dumb cop, zheng bei. yes that's huang jingyu and you might not like him because of his apparently quite sketchy personal life but all i care about in this case is that he's tall, and thoughtful, and a police captain who's protective of his people and a little bit of an idiot. my catnip tbh. (i guess he was in addicted too? somehow breaking the you-can-only-be-in-one-BL rule?)

(ETA that by "dumb" of course he's not dumb at all, only by comparison; cf. my own stupid meta on this fascinating topic)

then there's an effete genius consultant, gu yiran (wang ziqi), who knows everything there is to know about drugs. he comes from the south to help these ignorant northerners form an anti-narcotics unit. he's such a massive nerd, the team doesn't like him until they realize that he runs 10k every morning and can outrun motorcycles and is actually quite useful. then suddenly it's no longer "gu-laoshi" but is all "ran-ge" this and "ran-ge" that. he can't dance for shit. i adore him.

there's a superb seven-samurai style Assembling The Team sequence in which this cop is brought in as the muscle. Her nickname is mad dog yao and she kicks the ass of an entire club at one point. we love her. her only problem is that, not unlike zhang haixing in tibetan sea flower, she will in fact fight a wall. here's gu yiran's face after a drug dealer mistakenly underestimates her and she stomps on him.

one of my favorite things about this drama so far is how poor the police are. it's 1997 in a dinky northern precinct and these cops ain't got shit. no computers. rudimentary cellphones. barely any forenic analysis, and most of that is on pieces of paper. no bullpen. no interrogation rooms. they have to interview suspects at their desks.

captain zheng is so underpaid he can't even afford a real pointer for his situation board, he has to go outside and get a literal stick.

drives his dad's chicken delivery van. has to slam himself against the front door to open it. everything about this is absolutely perfect.

i'm only on episode 7 but this shit is already brotastic. please behold:

yes that is an actual line from the show. yes gu yiran has to live with captain zheng, they can't afford fancy accommodations for him. turns out there's a trundle bed made out of paper clips but that's okay, they still get plenty of cosy domestic time together.

and that's also what i already love about this drama—in spite of being about anti-narcotics, it's also very slice of life, very daily city life, with meals and neighbors and friends and family and did i mention food, there is so much eating in this drama. it's gorgeous. also i'm improving my colloquial chinese by leaps and bounds.

of course you are you stupid service top, now take care of the baby.

and those are just some of the reasons why you should be watching the first shot, which is funny and suspenseful and unexpectedly brainy and well-cast and has beautiful opening credits. there are 19 episodes on youku's youtube channel right now and the subs are shockingly high quality. i'm hooked, and also so mad at my day job because i can't just binge it, pls join me in this handbasket

[danyvhell-writes]

Ais headcanons pt 2 ! (Touchstarved)

GN reader - no warnings | Ais, my beloved. My brain won't stop thinking about him, there's so much to say omg ! I need to draw him this is serious :')

+ Not really a headcanon but when I first saw Ais in the trailer I thought he would be a kinda pirate character :') don't make fun of me lmaouiadubgziu !! I really imagined our first encounter with him on the coast of the city/harbor and that his story would be based on pirate tales and marine legends. I'm still sticking to my idea that it would be fucking awesome to have Ais as a captain or something, traveling the seas and oceans with him and his crew. (let me dream) PIRATE AIS AU WHEN ????!!? (Helloooo sailor !!)

• Has really pretty hands for someone who fights so much ! Likes to be presentable in front of you.

• He's a simp in his own ways. Someone making a remark about how good looking you are, he's gonna brag "Damn right they are ! Look at them."

• If you're mixed or have unusual features for your ethnicity, he would try to guess your origins (and he's strangely good at it ?). And if you have a weird/rare mix it's even more fun to see him struggle a bit.

• Likes to share foods ! Please feed him, he loves it. He'll just watch your dish with insistance until you ask him "You want some ?" and lean opening his mouth. He'll gently make you taste his meal in return. You're his little sparrow after all, so of course he's gonna let you peck in his plate.

• If your gaze meets his, he'll wink casually. It's his way to say "Hi babe."

• Completely forgot to ad this in my last hc post but !! If you use ASL, he will learn just so he can talk with you. Teach him everything you know, he's a good student >:) And if you happen to know how to read lips, this man would be thrilled to learn how to do it ! I just know he'd love to spy on people's conversation and gossip with you hehehe

• When you guys go on a walk and see sparrows he's always saying stuff like "Look, your friends' saying hi !" "This one looks just like you, cute." or "Wonder who's the real little sparrow… Sure you're not an impostor hm ?"

• When he doesn't smoke, he smells like a mix of cloves, iodine, humid air & metal (you know what i mean ?)

• Ties up his hair in a little ponytail sometimes and it's the cutest thing ever !!!

• If you're sensitive to the smell of cigarette (I personally despise that shit), he'd be careful not to smoke near you or puff in your direction. Passive smoking is not an option ! When you tell him it's fine, he responds "I don't want to screw up your healthy lil lungs !" ↑ However if you take cigs too, he'll gladly share a smoke with you. Really likes to have a calm talk with you while you guys enjoy your stuff. (+ shotgun kiss grrr)

• If you trip on your feet or something while walking, no need to feel ashamed. He would simply do the same on purpose to reassure you and act like it's something casual. "Can't watch my feet either apparently :)" You can be clumsy around him, do not worry !

• We know he doesn't like easy fights and he's kinda into brats so… give him challenges. Dumb ones, hard ones whatever you want ! He needs adrenaline and what's better than a little dare. "Bet you can't climb that tree in less than twenty seconds !" "Oh yeah ? Don't be presumptuous, I'll show you." and there he goes, perching himself on a big branch.

• Related to that... You're a snarky little shit ? Good. He likes it. Be cocky with him, that's what he needs. Of course he loves your soft side but no bickering nor teasing would be boring. This man needs a challenge.

• Loves going on walks with you and his babies (soulless). He'd show you around, make you visit nice places you've never been to and you get to play with Princess + the rest of the pack ! Sometimes his destinations are a little perilous but it's worth the risk. Two whole hours walking in the mist to watch the sunset ? Okay let's go, handsome !

• You're a trans person ? Great. He is too. Now go makeout like the T4T couple you are. (My Ais is trans and I won't come back on this statement 🏃🏽‍♂️💨)

• Always rests his hand on your hip. Number one resting place, comfortable & perfect shape for it. Sometimes the touch feels almost ghosting against you, you wonder if you're imagining things. Please, do the same for him. His waist is literally snatched with that pretty belt of his, perfect place to put your hands on ! He would really appreciate.

• He's good with makeup. Let him put you some red eyeliner so you guys can match ;) Just imagine him holding your face gently while he's concentrated on making a cool pattern with the liner. "Don't move." "I'm trying sorry !" "Am I that distracting to you ?". He won't mind if you try some on him. Dark lipstick omg, he'll rock that shit !

[max-nico]

Super_Charlie_001

Am I (32M) the asshole for declaring a hero of our village (16M) my new nemesis?

This all started around 4 years ago. I live in a small secluded village on the coast, I'm talking about less than 100 people living here. We all do our part to keep our little town running and at this stage in my life I had just become our Village Fruit Carrier (a very important job to have). The job wasn't the most fulfilling, but it got food on the table and it was how I met my wife, so I have a bit of a soft spot for it. Anyway, the 'hero of the village' (let's call him Red) and he got me FIRED from my job. why? Because he just couldn't stop himself from stealing my baskets, dumping out my fresh clean fruit all over the ground, using my baskets as stilts, and then disappearing right before my boss came out to check on me. In the kids defense, he's a little... Slow, so I really didn't hold it against him too much. Especially because after getting fired from that job I managed to land my absolute dream job around 6 months later. I really felt like it was fate or something. I was happy, my wife was happy, everything was good.

This brings us up to speed basically.

Recently, Red got me fired AGAIN years later from my wonderful job. I worked as an archeologist/excavator and made good money doing it, especially since our little town is built on top of ancient ruins and tech nobody's really seen before. Apparently Red wasn't trying to get me fired, he was genuinely trying to make up for making me lose my job the first time. At first he seemed a little dimwitted, but well meaning so I didn't have much of a problem letting him stick around, but I also didn't have much of a backbone at the time either.

Then things got worse, between him picking up important artifact markers, breaking multiple artifacts, breaking one of my toes, and even throwing my lunch away, I just couldn't handle it. One night, he even showed up at my house before I got home and made friends with my wife, and despite telling her I was uncomfortable she let him stay. So I'm sure you guys can tell, by this point I'm boiling with rage. This kid just cannot take a hint and I have had it up to here with him.

Then all hell breaks loose. He somehow manages to brush an artifact just right, causing a laser to fire and destroy an entire dig site filled to the brim with things we haven't even begun to study. Then he has the audacity to yell at my boss for yelling at me and gets me FIRED!!! AGAIN!!! THEN HE CALLS MY WIFE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION!!! AND SHE THROWS ME OUT!!!

At this point he can't just be dumb right? This has to be malicious. So I freak out at him, and do you know what he says? "Don't worry. I'll make it up to you, just as soon as I'm done making it up to you for the other thing I did." Wtf.

So I start to torment the guy. Can you really blame me? I go back to my old job and dig around for the old mech suits the ancients had lying around, like huge rocky things that shoot fire and laser and all types of things. I only use it to do things like steal his lunch money and knock him around at first, nothing super out there just protocol villain stuff.

So Red starts acting like I'M the crazy one after this. He acts like HE'S been the bigger person when he's the one who made me this way. He even made me a pie (which I shoved in his face of course), and I proclaimed myself a supervillain, and by proxy his nemesis. The whole village even gathered around to watch our fight, I felt like I was a cool kid in a school yard, and it was objectively the best feeling I've ever had.

Unfortunately I lost, not without a fight but still. Now the entire village is weird towards me (except my wife who took me back because she was proud of me for getting a new job and also a backbone) and they all act like I'm some lunatic just because I tried to destroy ONE GUY!!! so aita?

EDIT 1: Yes not even Dr.Eggman knows how this tech works I live like a couple miles away from the guy. Trust me I've asked

EDIT 2: Why does everyone know this guy and his friends? Are they famous or something?

EDIT 3: I found out that Sonic the Hedgehog, my nemesis, and their friends, are actually the heroes of Mobius and not just the heroes of my village. Small world I guess.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Parker Molloy at The Present Age:

Alright, folks, let's talk about the strangest new trend in politics: calling your opponents "weird." Yes, you read that right. In the past week, the Democratic camp has decided that the best way to take on Trump and the GOP is to break out their middle school vocabulary. It all started when Minnesota Governor Tim Walz (a potential VP pick, by the way) described GOP nominee Donald Trump and "cat lady"-obsessed running mate JD Vance as "just weird." From there, it's like the entire Democratic Party collectively went, "You know what? He's onto something," and ran with it. Now, I know what you're thinking. "Parker, are you seriously telling me that seasoned politicians are resorting to playground insults?" And the answer is... kind of, yeah. But here's the kicker: it's working. Or at least, it's getting one hell of a reaction.

The Evolution of Political Language

Remember when political debates were all about tax rates and foreign policy? Yeah, me neither. Welcome to the era of political discourse where calling your opponent "weird" passes for a campaign strategy. But before we judge too harshly, let's take a step back and look at how we got here.

Over the past few decades, we've seen a gradual shift from policy-focused debates to character-driven campaigns. It's no longer just about what a candidate plans to do, but who they are (or who they claim to be). This isn't entirely new; politicians have always tried to sell their personalities alongside their policies. But social media has cranked this up to eleven. In a world of tweets and TikToks, nuanced policy discussions don't exactly thrive. Instead, we get catchy slogans, memorable insults, and yes, apparently, the word "weird." It's like politics has merged with reality TV, and we're all just waiting for someone to say, "I'm not here to make friends." But here's the thing: as much as we might roll our eyes at this trend, it's not just about dumbing down the discourse. These simple, punchy messages often cut through the noise in a way that lengthy policy papers never could. They stick in people's minds, spark conversations (or Twitter wars), and sometimes reveal more about a candidate's values than any carefully crafted speech ever could.

Unpacking the Appeal of "Normal"

Let's talk about "normal" for a second. It's a concept that's been at the heart of conservative messaging for decades. The idea is simple: we're the normal ones, the real Americans, the default setting. Everyone else? Well, they're the outliers, the deviants, the ones trying to change everything. As writer A.R. Moxon puts it in a recent Twitter thread: ["What recent discourse is exposing is something I've been trying to say for years now, which is that there is little conservatives care more about than being considered the only normal ones by everyone else, and they'll use bullying and the threat of punishment to get it."]

This obsession with being seen as "normal" isn't just about feeling good. It's a powerful political tool. If you can convince people that your way of life is the default, then anything else becomes a threat. It's why we see so much fear-mongering about the "radical left" or the "gay agenda" or whatever the boogeyman of the week is. But here's where it gets interesting. By labeling the GOP as "weird," Democrats are flipping this script. They're challenging the very foundation of conservative identity politics. And boy, are conservatives not happy about it. Julia Serano, in her recent blog post, nails why this is hitting such a nerve: ["I think it has to do with the MAGA worldview being centered on them being the supposed norm. They are heavily invested in the notion that their perspective and lifestyle is the one true and righteous way that all others must follow. Calling them 'weird' upends this worldview."]

Parker Molloy with another gem of a post on the GOP’s weirdness to Americans who aren’t in the MAGA Cult.

See Also:

The Advocate: Democrats embrace ‘weird’ label, turning tables on conservative rhetoric often used against queer people

[jackalopes-pen]

Dumb Brain Child

Gadies and lentlemen of the internet, when we got a Janus video did anyone except me to not make a post about my favorite side? I think most of most followers did. So, go watch the newest video, come back, and strap in.

(before anything, I'm aware I'm four days late. SHUT.)

So, the first thing that caught my eye was that, in theory, the GRWM is working from a c!Thomas disguise, which apparently he has, to his look. This could be good to know for the finale in case c!Thomas is acting off/ argumentative.

Janus appears to have some degree of pride about his appearance being replicated right (?). It could be an internal thing (ex: they don't pay enough attention to me ot get it right) or (look at me more, please). Either one, his ego is the size of Canada.

Next thing! Janus doesn't have both eyebrows. He has to cover C!Thomas' up with colour correction, glue, and foundation. So he definitely possesses only one eyebrow which is weird when you think too long about it. While doing this section, he mentions that he enjoys reality television because none of it is real and it's purely underhanded deception... which tracks. It also tells us that he does enjoy seeing other liars at work when it's done well and in a non-self-deprecating way. This probably part of the reason he calls out Patton & Roman for their lies. Their lies hurt themselves.

S/N: Remus eating Janus' glue sticks is so canon and I adore it.

The thing that made me make this whole post in the first place was when we got to the eye section. His smile dropped. You can see, as soon as he says "eye" his mouth muscles relax showing that he isn't happy anymore. Clearly, his eye is a sensitive subject and this is even when the fan questions are introduced as a distraction from the eye section.

Could this actually be a scar like Joan said? A scar that Janus is very insecure about. He doesn't talk at all about the actual makeup during this, he just answers fan questions and mentions colour mixing. He also says during this section that he has dark circles, perhaps implying that he isn't taking as much care of himself as he wants the rest to believe. Dark circles are a sign of loss of sleep and stress. After all, he states "The only opinion that matters in your own" but what if your own opinion is negative? It could also just be a case of Remus is a bad roommate.

We see during the mouth section, that Janus apparently has "snake telepathy" which may contribute to Ye Olde "Roman was not Roman during Moving On 1 & 2" theory. Janus could;ve been using telepathy to guide Roman's decisions.

Finally, we get to the scales which Janus is clearly very proud of. He adores his scales. He talks about how they're pretty, and highlights them with his hands. It is fun to see that something he gets a lot of insults for is something he really likes and won't take shit about.

Final Conclusion:

This was an in-character cosplay tutorial that I looked into way too much.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for making work more fun (OC)

I (Enby) work with this other guy (really old lol M) to monitor this THIRD guy (i don't know how old these guys are I never asked, M) and to put it simply me and my coworker kinda boss him around. telling him what to do. yknow. me and my coworker take turns monitoring him, sometimes interchangeably, but for the most part he's the one in charge and i get to sit back and do nothing. which i wouldnt usually mind if the way we monitor this guy wasn't so boring. My coworker says we can't mention each other whenever we monitor the other guy, because it'll "ruin the narrative" or whatever something stupid and nerdy like that. generally just really boring and dumb to be honest. i don't even know why i work here but i can't remember what anything else even is, so i just stick to what i know, which is to just work. none of us are getting out of here so im just trying to make the most of it. i do that by adding a few things here and there, change a bit of the scenery up to just make things more fun for the guy we monitor. i mean if hes having fun then surely we'll have fun too right? at least i am. i add stuff like, yknow, a mini golf course..this- fake police interrogation, just for shits and giggles. apparently my coworker doesnt really like how im adding things, mentioning him, changing things im not "supposed" to change and "stick to the script". To HELL with your DAMN script already, I'M actually making things more FUN. And yknow what?? if I could maybe I'd make my OWN thing, but no, I can't, "we have to stick to the story!" well whats even the POINT of a story if its not fun?? Do you think walking around aimlessly with just- some GUY bossing you around is FUN?? No! No it's not, I'd imagine!! I'm actually doing work YOU don't seem to appreciate ENOUGH. AND FRANKLY I DO A LOT OF THINGS FOR YOU, AND A LITTLE RESPECT WOULD ACTUALLY MEAN SOMETHING TO ME. YOU CALL ME RIGHT AS IM IN THE MIDDLE OF DOING MY THING, YELLING AT ME THAT I "DID EVERYTHING WRONG AGAIN! GO BACK!" AND THEN I LOSE TRACK OF WHERE HE EVEN IS. BECAUSE OF YOU. I MESSED THINGS UP MORE. AND YOU STILL BLAME ME. YOU ALWAYS, ALWAYS BLAME ME. WHENEVER YOU'RE NOT IGNORING ME OR TELLING ME OFF FOR CHANGING THINGS OR MESSING THINGS UP I AM THE ONE WHOS BLAMED. CAN'T YOU SEE THE THING WE'RE MISSING IS THE FUN PART?? YOU WANT HIM TO BE HAPPY. YOU YOURSELF WANT TO BE HAPPY. BUT YOU CANT EVEN FIGURE IT OUT YOURSELF HOW TO MAKE SOMEONE HAPPY IN JUST A FEW SIMPLE WAYS DESPITE THE COUNTLESS TIMES I'VE SHOWN YOU I COULD. I SHOWED YOU WHAT WE CAN DO INSTEAD OF THIS. IS IT BECAUSE IM JUST..SOME STAND IN TO YOU?? DO YOU NOT THINK THE PROGRESS AND EFFORT IVE PUT IN HAS NO MERIT WHATSOEVER?? AND YOU STILL FAIL TO SEE HOW IMPORTANT SOME ACTUAL ENTERTAINMENT COULD BE?? HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN ALREADY?? HOW LONG DO WE HAVE TO KEEP DOING THIS??

..Sorry. i got a bit mad.

i don't think i'd actually be able to tell him all that. at least i get to let my feelings out here now. its a bit more relieving. he thinks im the asshole here, but i think im justified. im making progress. im making things better. he just cant see it and ignores all of it.

AITA?

[hotchocolatelovesyou]

A monster made of clay

Um hi, this sucks and I’m losing my mind over it, so I’m gonna post whatever the fuck this is anyway because I’m not a coward. English is not my first language and you can tell. Open to criticism, but please don't be mean lol

Robert x Dadsona

Dadsona: Hector Amanti.

enjoy (or don’t idk)

pss pss every dumb mistake you can find, take it on grammarly. that bitch is so useful so useless I hate it

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It was weird. Really weird. Why did it have that shape? Why was it so long? Why was it so big?

"Robert, my very dear friend, I hope you'll pardon me for asking in such manners, but what the fuck are you doing?"

"Language, Hector. Language. You'd not want to scandalize a poor little innocent boy like me, would you?" Hector raised an eyebrow, still eyeing the weird statue.

"I would never. It's not like said poor little innocent boy is creating a giant di-"

"You lack artistic vision", he replied, interrupting the younger man. Hector clutched his chest dramatically, pretending to be mortally wounded.

The memory of him, Damien, Joseph and Hugo at the museum was still very present. He was a changed man after that: he finally understood art after many years of his relatively long but actually short life. Everything, everything, in art - and it didn't matter from where and when a piece was - revolved around butts. That's how it was. That's how it should have been. Amen to butts, one of Mother Nature's most lovely creations.

"Lacking artistic vision? Moi? That's it, cruel world. I'm ready to go." Hector hurriedly touched his throat as if he was suffocating, one hand still on his chest to stop the imaginary bleeding. Robert went back to smooth the surface of his, ehm, anatomically bizarre work.

"There has to be someone funnier than the other between us, and I happen to know who is who." Robert didn't bat an eye, apparently focused on his project.  

"Hghkk... Robert, I'm dying." The other man exhaled hard through his nose, annoyed by the distraction from his masterpiece. He was trying to create a vein with a stick for the fourth time in ten minutes. Hector stopped his theatrics then and rolled his eyes, bored by the minimal reaction. He blew a lock of curly hair away from his face, his own hands covered in green clay.

They both had stains here and there because they kept trying to make the other fuck up. Hector had to completely start again whatever he was trying to do at least three times, Robert just two. That vein not coming out right had absolutely nothing to do with Hector.

"I don't find clowns funny" was his calm reply, a second later. Hector gasped, pretending to be hurt.

"You bitch!" he whispered, getting closer to Robert with an exaggerated angry face. 

When Robert eventually appeared to give him attention, he stuck his tongue out at him and went back to his work with a raised chin.

"You don't deserve me. I'm gonna stop talking to you."

"Thank God, finally. Another word and I was going to toss this at you", joked Robert, showing the enormous dick of clay he had been working on the whole time. Hector laughed at the vision, though when the handsome older man went to fake-throw the thing, Hector almost fell out of his chair, attempting to dodge it. At that vision, it was Robert's turn to laugh, trying to hit a giggling Hector with his clay dick. 

He, Mary and Robert had become a good trio with time, they always met for drinks essentially every weekend. Sometimes one of the other dads was invited too, but it was mostly the three of them. Mind you, Hector had some veeeery embarrassing moments he’d like to bury in the back of his mind, but with the two he also created some of the best memories in his life.

Yet, this week Mary and Joseph were out of town visiting her parents with their children.

For the first time in a while, it would have been just Hector and Robert. 

When Hector heard the news, his heart skipped a few beats. It felt nice, knowing it was just the two of them for once. Really nice. And also extremely fucking stressful.

There was no need to make things weird, right? It wasn’t even the first time they hung out alone. Deep breaths, no touching, and acting like an adult would have done the trick. He was awkard already on his own, no need to overthink it and make things worse for the both of them.

So, Hector tried his best to search for something relaxing or at least, um, not too weird? 

Hector had found the course by accident, wasting precious time of his life that would've never come back - basically, he was scrolling on the internet - when puff! There was this small announcement on the online news of their town: it was a sculpting class that, coincidently, started on their usual 'drinking' night. It could have been fun, different from their typical nights at the bar, especially considering that Robert had stopped drinking months ago anyways. 

He proposed the idea, already waiting for a no, when Robert pleasantly surprised him. Hector half suspected it was because they had more than enough time to hunt cryptids later since the class wouldn't have ended too late.

And there they were now, fighting like kids who happened to be waaayyy too old.

When Robert shoved the gigantic clay dick near his face again, Hector, laughing hysterically, grabbed the upper half and attempted to move it away. Robert, grinning like an idiot, tried to make him lose his grip by pulling that monstrosity towards him holding the lower half. With the poor thing being pushed hard in two different directions, the dick tore in the middle, and both the men fell out of their seats. Two very explosive laughs echoed around the big room, capturing everyone's attention.

Hector was the first to be back on his feet, while Robert sat up, still holding the rest of his creation.  The curly-haired man fixed the glasses on his nose and went to help the bearded man with a smile.

Hector was pretty sure he had a dick-shaped spot of clay on the back of his t-shirt. He held his hand out to help Robert get up, but a mischievous grin suspiciously appeared on the older man's face. He suddenly pulled his wrist, testing his balance, trying to make him tumble. Hector miraculously resisted.

"Hah!" exulted Hector, actually helping a chuckling Robert to stand on his feet now.

He had already fallen for Robert, it was unnecessary to fall on him too.

When Robert's deep brown eyes were finally on his same level, if not a bit higher, they met Hector's gaze with an amused warmth. Robert was still smiling and the younger man couldn't help but reciprocate with enthusiasm. 

Everything was warmer with Robert. From the rays of the sun to the heat in his cheekbones when he looked at him a second too much, or even to whatever charge of electricity he could feel buzzing in his fingertips when they happened to be so close that their hands could touch; not to mention the boiling liquid in his chest when Robert allowed himself to show how tired he was, and how vulnerable, delicate and hard his new approach to his mental health and addiction was to maintain.

Those were times when he told Hector stories about his life, his daughter, and (very rarely) even his wife. Hector, in exchange, confessed his own struggles, his fight against depression, and his social anxiety. He offered comfort in grieving those who they had both lost and reassurance about how good he was doing.  

They also shared the good parts, the happy memories. They revealed themselves to the other, piece by piece.

Hector was simply honoured that Robert had learned to trust him so much. Sure, he still tried to sneak in some bullshit one way or another, but by now he had learned to call his bluffs.

They had learnt to know each other and, at this point, they seemed to be joined at the hips. There was a special bond between them, one Hector would have treasured with his whole being. 

It didn't matter that he had to fight the urge, always more often, to kiss him senselessly. Hector made a promise that day, and he intended to respect it, even 'til his last dying breath.

Okay, maybe that was a bit dramatic, but yeah, he had a lot of patience and didn't make promises lightly, so...

Besides, things were great. Hector was genuinely proud of how far Robert had come. He'd been there on some of Robert's most difficult nights, and seeing him like that made him even prouder of how he was now.

Still looking at him, Hector noticed how much more relaxed he appeared. There weren't those deep, dark circles anymore, his eyes shined a bit more of their own light, and he was taking care of his hair and beard more. He seemed happier, too. He had a better relationship with his daughter, their monthly calls slowly turned weekly, and by now they called or texted each other almost daily.

He dared to glance down, where he met Robert's soft smile again. Hector was very satisfied with himself: he was the one who put that smile on those very, very kissable lips. Robert was happy because of him. They were a bit chapped, but Hector never gave a flying fuck about those things. As if such small detail could have stopped him from totally devouring him, body and soul, never letting him go and-- ah, for fuck's sake. Hector, stop right now. 

"Hey, you two! Are you done acting like middle schoolers? I'm talking here!" Hector jumped out of his skin, having honestly forgotten where they were. A man with a red sweatshirt and sunglasses was clearly scowling at them, even if Hector couldn't see his eyes.

"Who the fuck wears sunglasses inside?" 

"The moon probably hits too hard for him." Robert snickered at that and Hector felt like he won a prize. 

"Since you're being so active, why don't you show the class what you made?" the tutor continued, heading to their table. The problem was that after a few steps closer, he recognised the duo. Hector also had the same realization, freezing in horror.

Robert, instead, was more than ready.

"Hey, I know you! You were-"

"Listen here, dude", started Robert in a low voice, to be heard just by the two of them, "we are doing a very important job here, we are undercover. Tell people to turn their attention elsewhere immediately." The tour guide-art teacher looked around angsty at the worried tone, noticing how everyone was watching them. He gulped and cleared his voice.

"Just get back to your work y'all." Robert gave him a grateful look while Hector let out a sigh of relief, immediately on with the plan. When someone had a best friend like Robert, one had to learn how to improvise quickly. 

"Good. But now our positions might be compromised", said the older man, his face turned towards Hector, seeming tense. Hector sighed again. 

"It's not said the last word. We could still be able to continue with our plans." Robert didn't look too convinced. Hector tried to reassure him by placing a hand on his arm - and felt the muscles bulge under the leather jacket - but before he could speak, the third man lowered his head, whispering his worries so fast that he almost resulted uncomprehensible.

"Is everything alright? Am I in danger? Should I end the class now? I don't want to die this way! Wait, no, maybe I do. Do I? Am I s-" Robert quietly shushed him, stopping his bumbling. The tour guide, poor soul, practically smelled of anxiety. He squeezed himself into his old sweatshirt with a shiver.

"First, you need to stay calm. You are the one in charge here. If you are nervous, people will detect it, and you might create more trouble." The other man nodded, his shoulders still too tense

“Yeah dude, be the alpha we know you are” added Hector, feeling bad for the guy.  At the words, the man in sunglasses straightened his back, with a bit more confidence. Robert kicked him under the table, Hector hit him back with a moan of pain.

"It would be better if you stayed away from us", Hector said again, without getting hit in the process.

"Second, we just need you to keep doing what you are doing. Watch the others, tell people what they should be doing and how to do it, stuff like that." The art teacher-tour guide... didn't he also work as a quiz host? seemed a bit unsure of himself, though he nodded again.

"We are trying to monitor the whole room, it's not as easy as it looks. It would be a huge help if no one disturbs either of us. Subtly. We don't need to get attention." What was his name? Quinn? He listened attentively to his words before hugging himself.

“But, uh, why are you here? What is your mission?” Robert clicked his tongue at that. Hector rested his forearms on the workbench, in a conspiratory tone.

“We can’t reveal anything, it’s for your own good” murmured the curly-haired man, tucking a curl behind his ear and staining his cheekbone green.

“B-but I’m the alpha, I need to know if-”

“All you need to know”, interrupted Robert, rolling his eyes, “is that you shouldn’t play too much with this material.” A flash of pure panic crossed the teacher’s face.

“We have been testing it the whole time, it’s very bizarre” revealed his partner in crime.

“I-I have no idea where this is from, it was already here! I-” Hector gently gestured for him to lower his voice.

“Just pretend nothing is happening, we’ll take care of the rest” ordered Robert, with a spooky look in his eyes, one of a man who was ready to go on a battle. Hector loved this type of theatrics.

"I'll do my best to let you go under the radar." He was going to say something else, probably wondering if to give them an earful since they probably were the loudest angle in the room. Hector was aware of that, at least. He couldn't see his eyes, he was still wearing sunglasses (why? Just why?), but the frown he was reading on his face didn't please either of the fake-ass-ghost-hunters.

"If you see us behaving like idiots..." began the younger idiot in question, "... just know that it's part of the plan. We can't act like we are constantly studying people, it'd be too suspicious", ended Robert, throwing a glance at the man on his side. Hector immediately caught it.

"Obviously. Duh." Their tutor for the night smacked his hand on his forehead at their words. He bit his lip, unsure, and lowered his head.

"I, uh, would thank you but... ehm, I forgot your names..." he admitted shyly, shoving his hands in his pocket, his black lens shining under the white lights.

"You have forgotten them?" Hector asked, sounding truly hurt. 

"You know what? Maybe it's better this way" intervened Robert, apparently trying to console Hector. 

"Tell people you don't know us and we've never met", commanded Robert gravely, a serious look on his face. The teacher threw them a glance from over his glasses. He opened his mouth, thought better of it, then simply turned around and left, going back to his station. 

Hector bit his lip, trying not to laugh. He elbowed Robert gently.

"What even was my name that night?"

"Fuck me if I could remember", Robert simply stated, immediately working to create a new dick, even bigger than the one he previously made. Hector looked sympathetically at the cute, little panda he had shaped.

I'm gonna call it Po.

It didn't take much more time for the class to end. Hector gave Po to Robert as gift a few minutes later, already knowing the poor guy would get lost in the woods. He liked it though, and that was enough.

Surprisingly, it wasn't Po the one they had to let go, but Greenzilla (the name Robert chose for his mastodontic work), when Hector, a proud coward, took it to protect them from God knows what. 

He had to make the rational choice of throwing it at something hiding in the trees. Because there was something in the trees, right? Right, Robert?

They both started running back to the car, scared shitless, and cracked up from the adrenaline rush once on the road.

Sure, Hector had to listen to Robert scolding him when things calmed down - he had spent so much time on Greenzilla, and now he was just gone. They had a moment of silence, to commemorate the friend they failed so soon - but it was worth it. The whole night had been worth it.

And for Robert? He'd have thrown as many gigantic dicks as needed, if not more.

Hector went to sleep with a warm laugh still in his mind.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Chapter 6 - Anxiety Rush

Kisara wasn't able to sleep properly that night; However, every time she'd  wake up, agitated, breaking in a cold sweat, she'd see that she wasn't alone anymore, and there was no threat incoming; She'd see Seiji's peaceful, sleeping face, and she'd relax in an instant. That, along with the open lights throughout the house, made it easy to fall back asleep pretty fast, without too much overthinking.

No matter how much she wanted to sleep in and recover the lack of rest, she couldn't. Careful not to wake him up, Kisara went to the kitchen and made herself some caramel mocha, and eating some salty sticks, she let the silence sink in, as the coffee cup warmed her hands soothingly. She might be sleep deprived, but at least she is content.

Feeling that something was missing, the girl put on a classical music cassette in the radio on low volume, so she wouldn't disturb Seiji's sleep, and started humming along the sound of Debussy's Clair de Lune, since it was always able to calm her down. Not too loud, nor energetic for the current mood.

It wasn't long before Seiji woke up and joined her at the table, sitting across from her, with that cute, just woken up face, his eyelids still droopy and hair a bit messy.

"Good morning, Seiji." she spoke softly, her relaxed smile not faltering from her face. "It sure is good now." he reciprocated that smile. "I never thought waking up to someone and having and angelic smile as the first thing you see in the morning would be so nice." he confessed so casually, almost as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "If you're talking about me waking up at least five times last night, and being able to go back to sleep because you looked so adorable and peaceful... Then yes, I do agree." Kisara shot right back, knowing he wasn't expecting something like that. "You're good... But, about you waking up... Was it the nightmares? You should have woken me up." he pointed out, a bit more serious. "Yeah, it was the nightmares, but at the same time, most nights when I'm stressed by whatever... Well, sometimes even without stress, I still randomly wake up for no apparent reason. I look at the time, curse my existence for not sleeping at such a forsaken hour, and then go back to sleep." she shrugged nonchalantly, clearly used to such nuisance. "Besides... Why would I wake you up? You were sleeping so peacefully... I couldn't bring myself to. You look beautiful like an angel." she hugged the warm cup with her hands, looking down at the surface of the drink with a soft look in her  eyes. "You're giving me more credit than I deserve, especially when I should be the one saying such words about you." he said that, and yet, despite his composed expression, a faint blush was almost visible on his cheeks. "I think it's the other way around... Not to mention... You are young, and you have the whole world ahead of you. You should be free and do whatever dumb things people your age do, not waste your youth on old people like me." Kisara chuckled faintly, sounding like an old grandma, but the comment didn't sit right with him. "You are not being fair to me, Kisara. Give me some credit. I did tell you I am a man of my words, and I'm not backing up from that statement. I don't know what you've been through, but from the looks of it, it can't be anything light. If you need someone to talk to, I won't judge, nor turn away. I think it's obvious by now, isn't it?" he asked, making her sigh and look down, nodding, though that bittersweet smile was ever present. "Maybe someday. Until then... Let it go. We have a ghost to get... And something tells me Kubitarou's case won't be the end of it. I'm not looking forward to this - And more." she muttered, biting her lip in worry. "You defeated one, you can defeat another, I'm sure of that. I have faith in you and your wit and knowledge in this subject." he put his hands over hers, squeezing it lightly. "Besides - You're not doing this alone." "I just wish I didn't have such a ghost affinity. It's maddening. No matter how strong you are and you get over some stuff... There are plenty of other things that will stay with you forever. And watching isn't the same as living and feeling the very same trauma. Akira has it easy compared to yours truly, and even for him... Though that's a selfish thing to say." she softly ruffled her already mess of a crimson mane. "Because if you think about it, and eliminate the supernatural factor... In the end, it was still humans who damned a person so bad that they held on to this life with such hatred that they became malevolent ghosts." she managed to say, albeit a bit cryptic, while squeezing his hand back.

"You are the strongest woman I've ever met, Kisara. To be able to go through so much and still put on this facade of everything is fine - Few people would be able to do that." he comforted in his usual soothing voice. "If I'm not strong, no one else is going to be for me. Nobody is going to live out my life except for me. No matter how many stupid traumas are thrown in my way, I have to get over them. That's just how life is... And I really hope it won't be the same for you as well." she chuckled dryly. "Then again, you are not a push over like me, so at least I know you're going to be much better in this aspect than I will ever be." Kisara let out an empty exhale, which made him get up, and putting his hands on her face, he lifted it up firmly so she would look at him and listen clearly. "Nobody is strong all the time, and neither should you be. Everyone has their days, and their weaknesses and vulnerabilities. It's all about finding a safe place to let them exist." he smiled dearly. "And I don't mind being that for you, if only you'd let me. Whenever you feel like you're comfortable in my presence and trust me enough to speak to me, I will be waiting. That's a promise." with a reassuring smile and a soft kiss on her forehead - The Lucky Charm - Seiji remarked the sparing glint of emotional tears forming in those beautiful green eyes that he loved so much. "Okay, Seiji...I won't forget that. But if I ever end up talking too much, or draining you emotionally or something, tell me so I can stop, got it? The last thing I want to do is to accidentally damage you and make you hate me." she placed her hands over his, looking away. "Don't worry so much, that will never happen. For your sake, however, I promise I will tell you if anything goes wrong." he gave a side smile. "Well, then... If you don't have anything to do today, we can go somewhere to eat and maybe waste time looking around shops." Kisara suggested with a little smile gracing her beautiful features, thinking of what to do until evening. "Sounds like a fine plan. That should ease your stress with Kubitarou." he agreed as they started getting ready to leave for the day.

This time, Kisara dressed in a more casual outfit, knowing it would be more legwork and running around from a psychopathic phantasm with a cleaver, so she chose a black shirt, rolling up the sleeves for mobility, and a pair of black jeans paired up with comfortable sneakers. Their first stop was the nearest restaurant where they relaxed, enjoyed the atmosphere and ate pretty well, then went around some random music shops, clothes shops and bookstores. By the end of the rather peculiar date, Kisara ended up getting a green see-through scarf since the weather forecast said it may get chillier at night, and she didn't want to get a cold or something. It looked pretty good with her eyes - Or so Seiji said.

After that, Kintoki was their next destination, to see how things were going with the security, but things weren't good at all, as the police force was amped up. Considering the large man with an axe presumption, it was to be expected... But it will sure prove to be such a hindrance to sneak around successfully.

With Seiji by her side to keep her company, the day passed rather quickly, in a most pleasant way - Along with the fact that they were able to sleep in quite a lot, they were well rested by the time the Sun set, thus it was time to head towards the designated meeting place - Black Rabbit.

No matter how many times she says it, she will still be reminded by Saya Kujou's spirit guiding that black rabbit and dying in a suicide attempt to kill that blasted Mary doll.

Those were the days... Scary days...

Poor Yashi-... Masamune.

Shaking her head to stop thinking about those awful ghost adventures, Seiji opens the door, only to see Akira mid-way stripping away his shirt, while Kaoru was dressed as her Idol persona, grinning like crazy.

"Yo, what's up, best friend?" Seiji chimed in, cheerful and all, until he saw the scene in front of him unfolding, making him grimace. "... What are you doing? ... Did I... Interrupt?" he asked as soon as he realised what was going on and assumed the worst. "Should we... Uh... Come back later?" Kisara giggled, joining in the teasing. "Hey, wait! It's not what you think!" Akira blushed, trying to vigorously explain himself.

As if on cue, Kaoru jumped on her favourite red head, her hands gripping her shirt with unimaginable strength for a 16 year old girl, trying to unbutton it... Or rip the buttons apart altogether, which made the young woman yelp in shock and try to push her off before she could do something idiotic. This must be categorized as some kind of assault.

"Kaoru, what the hell, get off! What's with you?!" Kisara whines as she finally managed to push her off before discreetly turning to the side, button up the shirt better and fixing it properly. "Won't you PLEASE let me write the heart sutra all over your body?! It's for good luck and protection!" she grinned, obviously giddy and believing in her little fantasy. "The only protection I need is a few packs of condoms and a restraining order... That should soon turn into two or three by now, I'm still debating." the doctress sighed, shaking her head at the girl's behaviour, though her rather bold statement made Akira blush more and Seiji to chuckle. "But these things work, if they are done properly! I'm sure, I read it all over the occult network forums!" she whined slightly, almost as if someone told her Santa Clause didn't exist. "Buddhism won't save you from ghosts. Shinto won't do that either. Occult stuff like salt, water and prayer even less." Kisara scratched her cheek awkwardly, shuddering slightly at the Jorogumo experience that amplified her arachnophobia. "You either appease the ghost and survive, or... Die trying. I learnt that the hard way when I got possessed." "What?! You got possessed! That means you need extra protection from ghosts! Talismans, holy water, seals, prayers, lots of salt..." she trailed on and on with the usual occult stuff, and the poor lady could only groan and put her hands firmly on her shoulders.

"THE BULLSHIT YOU KEEP SPEWING ALMOST GOT ME KILLED BEFORE!" the red head was easily irritable. "I get it, you love the occult, but what would you know what works and what doesn't? If you knew the price one has to pay when dwelling with the dead, you'd be running away as if leprosy was chasing you."

"So... You tried those things on the internet, and they didn't work...?" Kaoru pulled the puppy dog eyes, which only made the young woman sigh in exasperation. "If it makes you feel better, I have a bag with all those idiocies with me at all times. I keep them more as a memento from an old lady who's very much into the occult like you... But I suppose I can use them, and prove to you that they don't work, so you can stop living in your fantasies that may or may not kill you for being misinformed." she sighed once again, drained of all energy. "Awesome! Looking forward to that!" she grinned so innocently, almost as if she heard nothing the older lady just said and just jumbled everything the way she wanted it to be.

"They say Buddha's patience is endless - The way I see it, yours is even vaster when you're dealing with this stubborn little brat." Seiji brought the beauty into a side embrace, taking her away from the weirdo and allowing her some time to cool down. "So, will anyone explain to us what in the world were you doing?" he chuckled, looking at them with a knowing look.

As Akira explained that basically he wanted to appease Kaoru by writing the heart sutra on his body, the two sweethearts laughed at them for being so silly. After that, they discussed about how the curse activated and they must urgently purify Kubitarou that night, despite all the police running amok, and that the only way to get rid of them would be a disturbance.

As soon as the world 'Disturbance' was brought into the conversation, Seiji's eyes got wide and he grew sly grin, obviously thinking of some illicit dealing; He went outside to call Maruhashi, telling him to gather his motorbike gang to cause a ruckus - As soon as the boy returned inside the bar, he had that unhinged Yakuza look on his face, saying that he ordered his bodyguard to walk the Samoyed, and then invited them to eat at some luxurious sushi place. He knew how much Kisara loved sushi.

Honestly, the only thing the lady in cause could think of was that Samoyed he mentioned and how curious she was if it was real or not. She loved dogs a little too much.

On their way to the station, that was the only thing Kisara and Seiji talked about; Apparently the mysterious puppy was a very cute baby girl called Yuki, since her fur was white as snow and she was born on a snowy day. Kisara simply couldn't wait until she could meet her.

As they arrived at the station, Kaoru remained as a lookout, Akira's curse activated once again, which was an obvious sign that things weren't good, so they hurried up towards the Kintoki tower, thankfully finding another crowbar at the arcade.

When they passed the rail roads, they noticed a teddy bear next to a flower bouquet. Even better, when they got to the street leading to the Tower, they saw the mess Maruhashi and his gang left, and Kisara couldn't help but laugh out loud with tears in her eyes - Graffiti on the gates, tire marks and flipped cop cars... Masterpiece!

"I don't know how he did it, but tell Maruhashi I will pay him for this show." the lady placed her hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. "Haha, they flipped over a cop car. I told him to distract the cops, but I didn't expect this much. I'll definitely tip extra as thanks for showing us something fun and making Kisara laugh." he grinned in satisfaction watching the forsaken street. "Somehow I knew you were behind this." Akira sighed, shaking his head.

Just then, Maruhashi called Akira, for whatever reason, and reported to him that he already broke up the gathering requested and he's close to the Kintoki tower, waiting for them and eating manjus. This worried them, so they hurried to said tower... But they didn't find him anywhere near, so they started looking around for him.

They were able to find his bag of manjus behind the shrine, which led them to believe that he may have opened the well, as he seemed rather curious by it, seemingly since childhood. Of course, the first thing they thought of was to look in the well, for precaution. Thankfully, it was the same as the previous night. Akira then opened the rabbit bag and found the body of a worn out teddy bear plushie, which made Kisara gasp in realisation. "Akira, hold on to this, we might need it for the purification. Remember, the story said the little brother was a teddy bear, and since it doesn't have a head... If we find a head for it, we may be able to do it! We can use the head of the teddy bear back at the rail road!" she clapped her hands together, feeling as if a bright lightbulb was turned on above her head. "Great, at least we know what to do in that aspect." Akira nodded, putting the plushie in his bag. "I'm sure as hell glad you're on our side. That aside, where the hell is Maruhashi?" Seiji frowned, getting restless. "Oh, yeah, Akira, can your phone call back a number from your call history? Try calling him back. If he's close, then maybe we can locate him from the sound of his phone." Seiji proposed, making the brunet raise his eyebrow in confusion. "You can do it yourself." he commented pointing to the Yakuza boy. "I can, but I don't want to hear that guy's annoying voice close to my ear. Come on, aren't you worried about him? You do the honours, best friend." Seiji said simply, making Kisara bite her lip in worry as she noticed something rather concerning. "What if the reason this wire gate is cut is because Maru went through here?" she muttered as his own phone started ringing and it seemed like it came from the other side of the transmission tower.

Getting restless staying there doing nothing while the boys were bickering over the unresponsive phone call, followed the fence and found the familiar silhouette of Maru taking a break on the ground... A break from life, that is.

"OH.... FUCK! Guys, don't come here!" Kisara's shout rung loudly, but it was too late, as the boys got right next to her... And they didn't realise what was going on at first.

The boys were getting annoyed with him allegedly ignoring them, which made Akira want to snatch away that stupid wolf mask. Though the girl tried to stop him from doing so, he moved too fast, and instead of seeing his head, as they were expecting, Maruhashi's neck was filled with candy and other kid-looking things.

From the shock of this mockery of killing his subordinate in such a humiliating way, the Yakuza boy fell to the ground, glaring at Maru's corpse, gritting his teeth in anger. He was hyperventilating from fear and rage mixed together. Kisara could only kneel next to him to the ground, wrapping her arms around him, shifting his head so he would stop looking at the sight in front of him.

"Th-That bastard... Kubitarou... Sh-She did this to Maruhashi... Just like... The dog...!" he grips at his hair with both fists, nearly pulling out the strands. "Seiji, stop, please! We will get our revenge for Maru, I promise! But let's get out of here before she comes for us too!" she tried desperately to make him snap back to reality. "She killed him! Kisara, she killed Maruhashi! That bitch has to pay for this!" he growled in anguish, his eyes getting wet from pure fright and wrath. "I know, but think of it! Maruhashi was alive during that phone call, so he was just barely killed! That means Kubitarou is close, so we gotta run before she gets us too!" her fear and anxiety were great, but her protectiveness over her crush was greater.

Just then, the evening breeze started carrying that stupid children's song hum that plagued all of her nightmares. "You're right... If Kubitarou finds out we've been searching the well, she might go berserk... That could be why Maruhashi..." Seiji mumbled, mostly to himself. "It's dangerous to stay here. Listen to Kisara, and let's move to an alley somewhere, for now." Akira spoke in a firmer voice, dragging both of lovers away from there.

However, as they tried to make their escape, Kubitarou's humming voice appeared behind them, causing poor Seiji to tremble violently like a leaf in harsh wind. Kisara could do nothing but hold his hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

"Don't turn around, she hasn't noticed us yet." the brunet muttered loud enough for only them to hear. "But what should we do? Run all the way back to the station?" his friend asked, barely keeping himself from stuttering. "No. If Kubitarou discovers what we did to the well, she'll be pissed and chase after us. Either way, my time limit's almost up... Gotta prepare for the worst and confront her." was Akira's response, to which the girl agreed. "We must get to the railroad station as fast as possible. It has lights and we have to discuss what to do with that teddy bear and how to merge the head with the body." Kisara explained, and they agreed.

However, no plan ever goes by the chosen steps, and as soon as they agreed on what to do, Kubitarou spotted the trio and started rushing towards the squealing youngsters filled with fright and surprise. At first, taking out the 'magic' bag, Kisara drew a line of salt, said some prayer with the seals in her hands, a talisman held between her palms, and as soon as Kubitarou approached, she threw the paper seals and some holy water at her...

Only to get the expected response - Nothing useful.

"Stupid old fraud of a hag, Towako Yasuoka, I swear to God I will come and kill you for this!" Kisara growled, feeling incredible rage and fear as she threw the bag at Kubitaro to keep her attention away while she takes out the crowbar and bracing myself, parrying an axe blow from Kubitarou. "Mashita, get the hell away from there!" Akira roared loudly. "Ahhh, DAMN IT! You guys go to the railroad station! I will lead her away, do a detour and come back!" the girl yelled, spinning around and throwing Akira the crowbar; She quickly darted past the monster, in the opposite direction, but Kubitarou wasn't following her, instead going for Seiji. "Kisara, what are you doing?!" he asked as Akira parried an axe blow, making the crowbar shatter, just like previously. "RUN! ... KUBITAROU, YOU STUPID, UGLY, FAT BITCH! YOU WANT A DOG HEAD? HERE, CATCH ME IF YOU CAN! AWOOOOOO!" Kisara started howling like a dog to the moon, which made the ghost snap her head in her direction and run towards her with annoying speed. "KISARA, NO! GET BACK HERE!" Seiji yelled after the girl desperately, only for her to squeal in fright, focused only on the killer ghost, and turned to run like hell. "AKIRA, TAKE SEIJI AND GO TO THE RAILROAD! NOW" she yelled before running through unfamiliar streets.

Seiji had to be dragged away from the horrifyingly shocking scene that unfolded before him; For all of his endless fear and hatred of that maniac spirit, seeing the girl he grew to care for so much willingly shielded them from danger and even went as far as to go on a sacrificial run to lure away the ghost. So what if they make it to the railroad, if she's not there? What was there to be done?

Likewise, Kisara was desperately trying not to curse her stupidity, knowing that going through streets and alleys alone, she willingly put herself at a disadvantage, seeing that a ghost has endless stamina and constant speed, while she has neither... And no direction skills either. She walked under the cut transmission fence, narrowly avoiding that damned axe, or getting cut, but nothing severe thankfully. Just some blood and slashed clothes...

Her poor outfit...

Of course, a full on run couldn't be done without some dead end alleys, turnarounds, fence jumping, tripping and crawling under some barbed wire fences, on which she scratched a lot of her skin, but she couldn't even feel any pain, in spite of how overly sensitive she was, because the fear she had made her sympathetic system secrete so much adrenaline that she felt like she was running on solely fear...

Especially when those axes were being slammed so close to her head. Too close for comfort.

After she managed to break free and get untangled from the wired fence, she was back on track towards the railroad crossing, and she went on a full sprint, seeing the barrier down and the red lights, along with the alarm warning of an incoming train.

She could hear Seiji's voice, yelling out her name, urging her to get to safety already, that Kubitarou was right behind her.. He rushed to the side of the rails, next to the ditch so he could catch and pull her to safety as she jumped.

But that was cut short, as just barely ten meters away from the rails, she was harshly pulled backwards, and she fell, suspended by her scarf-

No...

Kubitarou was holding her by the loose end of herscarf, screeching menacing, as she was struggling to pull the material away so she wouldn't choke before getting beheaded. It was like she was hanging at a witch trial, being accused of hexing someone. Her whole neck were in agony, and her blind panic made her reflexes act up quicker than her rational instincts.

Wait-

No, that's not okay!

"KISARA! GET UP! KISARA!" Seiji's desperate voice called out her name, as Akira was shouting random curses and insults at Kubitarou, but none had any effect. Her last witty reply to her attempted execution was to tug at the other end of the scarf and propel herself on her heels, twirling around to uncoil the material from her neck, which ended up with her getting dizzy, tripping over her feet and falling in the ditch because her legs were too damn weak from the terror.

With the remaining ounce of strength and will to live that she had left in her veins, Kisara pushed herself from the ground just as another axe was slammed down her way, and doing a semi-circle around Kubitarou, she managed to confuse her and sprinted the last tenmeters, jumping in the middle of the rails, then getting dragged on the other side by Seiji, who pulled her to his chest, one arm around her back, while the other on the back of her head, holding her into a tight embrace.

She wasn't quite sure which of the two was shaking worse, but it felt like an outright earthquake. "NEVER do that again, damn it!" Seiji tightened his grip on the girl who was weeping without realising; Her only response being to grip the back of his shirt, but her fingers were barely hanging on the material, as she had no power left in her, the adrenaline rush disappearing just as fast as it appeared.

"That was... S-So scary... How awful..." her voice was weak, as she whimpered with her face buried in her chest. "Hey, look, Kubitarou is leaving... What the hell? Did it get scared by the loud noise or what? It's her fault there's no lights and the flashlight isn't working!" Akira growled, growing antsy because of the deadline. "How can we lure her this way? ...I can't believe it's not following after almost killing me a few dozen times." Kisara muttered, unable to take her head away from Seiji's chest, heaving and panting erratically. "You've still got your gun? Maybe firing it would do." Akira suggested, making the boy nod. "Kisara, cover your ears, it will be loud..." Seiji lowered the lady to sit on the ground and regain her senses a little. "Let's liven things up, shall we?" the boy muttered, watching as his pitiful crush covered her ears, while he shot three times into the sky, the deafeningly loud noise making Kubitarou rush back to the source. "Hey come on, give 'em back... Give him back to me." Kubitarou's ghostly voice echoed through the place, which made them all shudder. "The Teddy bear... Rip its head off and put it on the old one's body..." Kisara managed to say between stutters. "You're right, good idea." Akira nodded, taking out the utility knife and ripping off the new teddy bear's head neatly. "Do we have anything to put them together?" the girl asked, taking out the old plush body from Akira's bag, and handing it out for one of them to use. "If I had a thread and needle I would do it myself, but my hands are shaking too much." shechuckled nervously, hugging Seiji's leg. "Don't worry, I will do it. I've always had dexterous fingers" Seiji spoke in slightly confident manner, taking out the tape and attaching the bear head to the plushie's neck. "Woaw... That's amazing...! It looks brand new!" Kisara blinked in surprise at the plushie as it was given to Akira. "You could be a surgeon." "Thank you for the praise, but I think law suits me better." he replied lightly, though his brows were set deep in worry. "I think I might have taken too long." he muttered, frowning in the direction of the ghost, who was glued by the barrier. "Quick, Akira, throw it at the ghost! Now!" the girl urged him to rush, and he did just as told. "Here it goes... KUBITAROU! Here's your little brother back!" Kubitarou squeezed the plushie close, giggling as she faded away into the light, with a wide smile on her face. "Did... Did we do it? We did it, didn't we?" the boys asked, unnerved, looking left and right for any supernatural sign. "I can't believe I'm alive..." Kisara kept saying over and over again, urging Seiji to kneel next to her and hug her close to his chest. "You're sleeping over at mine tonight, No objections. You've done enough for a life time." he spoke, watching the red haired lady nod her pretty head in a puppet-like way. "Sure... Yeah... Anything you say... We do that." she breathed out, trying to steady her inhales and exhales.

For some reason, Hazuki ran full sprint towards the group, informing them that the police was going after the motorbike gang, and when the question arose as to why she didn't call, they realised Akira's phone had several missed calls. They told her about Kubitarou and Maruhashi, the latter news which got her extremely shocked and saddened by the news. Looking better at the rails, they noticed a dirty reversible red and white cap; Kaoru urged Akira to touch the blood splattered under it, hoping he would see a vision of Ami, which is exactly what happened.

Akira suddenly started looking very disorientated, saying he heard a flute; Though nobody else could hear it, Kisara theorized that Kakuya was talking to him alone, telepathically or something... The sky was beginning to rumble unnervingly... A shiver going down her spine... And a very bad premonition...

"Guys, we should get the hell out of here. I don't have a good feeling about this place..." the terrified red head muttered, clinging on Seiji's arm, trying to pull him towards the station. "YOU HEARD HER! RUN, HURRY ALREADY!" Akira yelled at the others, as a noise split the atmosphere, and by instinct, Kisara stepped towards Akira who was farthest from the rails, trying to drag her crush with her.

A blinding white light struck the forest, and everyone lays flat on the ground. Still shaky from all the Kubitarou ordeal and the terrible premonition she had a few seconds prior, Kisara looked to the other side of the crossing, only to see the tree by the road  shattered into many scattered pieces, some having caught on fire, causing a smoke through which she could barely see or breathe.

On further inspection, as the red head managed to get into a sitting position, she notices both Seiji and Kaoru stuck under lit-up tree branches; Her first instinct was to rush to Seiji's side, trying her best to push the branch from his back. The next second, Akira joined her and together, they managed to push away the tree, shaking the boy awake. "So... Violent... My bones are going to collect in my feet..." the boy muttered as he got up; Seeing him alive and well, Kisara couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief and throw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.  "Thank God you're okay..." he could feel her shaking like jelly, even worse than when she escaped Kubitarou or the Urashima Woman. Was she so worried for his safety? How sweet.  "I... I wouldn't say that. Looks like my leg's done in. I don't think I can walk... Oh, what about Hazuki?" he asked, looking around, not seeing her. "R-Right... I'll check!" Akira nodded, going to the girl's side. "Damn it... I'll call an ambulance. I have nothing to do a splint for your leg to keep it straight... Does it hurt too bad?" the doctress worried over the boy, helping him keep his leg straight. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. Call an ambulance, please, but I have to get rid of this little toy." he took out his gun, which made her gulp and call over Akira.

"Sorry, I don't have a permit... Anymore. My brother does. If only he was here." she shook her head, quickly brushing away that thought. "Akira, do me a favour and take this. No way I can be taken to the hospital with something like this on me. So I want you to hold onto it for me instead. Since Kisara is coming to the hospital with me, you're the only other person I can trust with this." he explained, handing over the modified gun. "Okay." his friend nodded, taking it and putting it in his pocket. "Sorry for dumping trouble onto you... But now hurry up and leave. If the cops come, they'll want to question you and then all this would have no point." Seiji pointed it out, rushing his friend as the girl called over the ambulance. "What about Hazuki?" Akira asked, sparing her a worried look. "Don't worry, we'll take care of her. She'll get to the hospital. Trust me. Kisara here is a doctor, she knows her stuff. And besides, my leg is KILLING me, but my head and mouth are perfectly fine. Smooth talking is my specialty." the Yakuza smiled reassuringly at his best friend. "Fine. I'll call you later, okay? I'll leave the rest to you, Amanome." the brunet shared a look with his friend, who nodded in acknowledgement. "Don't slip on your end either, best friend." he replied as we saw Akira running away from Kintoki. "What a mess... This is such a mess... I can't believe this happened..." Kisara sighed, biting her lip hard, constantly looking left and right like a frightened meerkat, looking for the ambulance lights, whenever they may appear. "Kisara, don't blame yourself. You went there and almost got yourself killed by that stupid ghost trying to save us. That's more than anyone else would have done... And look at you... Your neck is bruised, and you have so many cuts on your beautiful skin... And you're still crying." he put his hands on her face, wiping the river of tears streaming down her face. "I hate seeing you like this." "Oh, I... I was so focused on this mess that I didn't even realise I was crying... Haha... How silly." she let out a weak chuckle, only for her bottom lip to tremble and give away the emotions overwhelming her. "I'm just... I'm just so terrified of anything happening to you... And... I'm so... Tired... Of ghosts and death and stalkers." she gritted her teeth, her head hung, her fingers pulling on her crimson locks a little too hard. "I just want to feel safe for once."

"You're staying over at my home tonight - There's nothing that could hurt you there. You're the safest you'll ever be." Seiji reassured her, extending his hands towards her. "Come here, pretty girl. I've got you. Let me take care of you, for once. There, there." he kept caressing her messy hair. "It will be fine. We got revenge for Maruhashi, and Hazuki will wake up when we get to the hospital. We won't have to deal with ghosts for a while, so we can sleep assured tonight." he explained using such a soothing and calm voice, that even the terrified young woman could relax her senses, a least a little bit. "Akira said he heard a flute... But we didn't. That means Kakuya was talking to him telepathically. That, correlated with the blinding light, that we could guess may have been a lightning, since they said they became often in Kintoki... I... I think this was a choice for Akira to make. Who will stay awake until Kakuya is beaten, you or Hazuki. And Akira chose you. If she hasn't woken up by now... I think she will when we beat Kakuya." Kisara hung her head, continuing to stressfully tug on her locks. "That's what happened before... Our victim-friends almost died before we could get rid of the ghost..." "Even if it is true, we will keep helping Akira and defeat Kakuya for once, and rescue Ami. Now I'm more driven to get revenge. Let's not think about that now, it's enough ghost hunting for a night." he suggested with a dry smile on his face. "I finally have some private time with the most beautiful lady I've ever met. It would be a pity to talk about ghosts and Hazuki, don't you think?" "Well, uhm... Uhm... S-So... Considering the mess we are in... What will you tell your dad when you bring me home?" she chuckled lightly, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. "Hmm... Well, I can say that my beautiful doctor girlfriend insisted on staying over so she can take care of me... And my dog. Mostly my dog, but I'm the bonus." he joked, which made the girl lighten up instantly, look awaying and giggleing in amusement. "Is that really what you're gonna tell him? Hi, dad, I know shit hit the fan, and Maruhashi died... I was also slammed down by a tree, my girlfriend was chased around by an axe wielding maniac and my best friend's double-identity occult freak idol girlfriend was put in a coma by this stupid child ghost... But hey, here's my girlfriend and she's here to bond with Yuki, so hey, what a nice night, huh?" she mocked a rather dramatically comic monologue, which seemed to make the boy laugh at her antics. "I couldn't have said it any better." he nodded, and just then, the ambulance came, taking them to the hospital.

Of course, since Kisara can never sit still, she insisted on helping with Seiji's injuries and tended to her own -  They were mostly skin cuts that needed disinfecting and they would heal on their own. No use in bothering the already overworked doctors to care for something as unimportant as some cuts and bruises. On the other hand, the doctor confirmed Hazuki's wounds were shallow and would heal quickly by themselves... But the cause of her comatose was unknown and she should have been awake by then, which confirmed Kisara theory's theory of a ghostly comatose.

Getting a pair of nice crutches and making a splint for his leg, Seiji was allowed to go home, not before getting interrogated thoroughly - But what can two young sweethearts say except for the fact that they were on a romantic strolling, their friend joined in, when a lightning strike hit the tree, causing it to fall on two of them, and the third one took them from beneath the branches?  Easy white lies that can't be proven right or wrong.

The real problem was  Maruhashi's death, and how they definitely had no idea what happened. Seiji's dad was very nice, at least. Visibly worrying for his son, being very kind and polite with his lady companion when being introduced to her and saying it's no problem if she had a sleepover at their home, his wife, Ayaka, would be thrilled to meet her, and Yuki would be happy to have someone play with her.

His dad might have had a sparkling glint of amusement and realised there was something sparkling between the two of them, but wisely chose to only hide behind a fatherly smile. He knew if Seiji outright called Kisara his girlfriend, it would be embarrassing for her, so he played along with his son's choices.

But his dad isn't only a father, he is the Yakuza leader as well, so he had to somehow reprimand his son for failing to take care of his subordinate, thus he was put on a suspension, meaning that he won't really be able to leave the house for a little while. It could be also a blessing in disguise, considering he has to recuperate after the leg accident. Apart from the fact that he won't really be able to help Akira much, there was no downside to this, considering how sick of ghosts both of them were, so it should prove to be a good de-stressing period for him.

His dad's driver got all three of them home, and Kisara helped her lover boy get inside the house, where they were greeted by a cute little Samoyed baby girl resembling a rather energetic snowflake. Seeing such a cute dog, she instinctively forgot about the poor boy and dropped down, picking up the puppy and kissing her head, pampering her with endless love and affection, while she was licking her all over her face, barking from happiness at getting attention and love, which amused both men.

"We barely got here and she already stole all your attention from me." Seiji mocked hurt, but he wasn't bothered in the least. "As long as I don't call you Yuki, or her Seiji, I think it should be fine." she chuckled, cuddling with the puppy in her hands. "Why would you do that?" he asked, leading her to his room. "My mum used to do that accidentally. My dog was Kisara... Well, Kitsune... And I was Fifi. Fun, huh? I used to tease her a lot with this mistakes of hers." she grinned, albeit a bit nostalgic, as Seiji sat on the bed. "Well, then I'm going to have to suffer in silence." he chuckled, shaking his head lightly. "I'll ask the maid for some clothes for you, and in the morning, I'll have someone get you a fresh outfit. You can't leave this place with how damaged your clothes are now." he said with a more serious tone. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. I'm not the one limping, nor am I the one grounded. Just focus on resting and fully healing that injury of yours." she pointed out, slowly getting to sit on the bed next to him too. "You should do the same. It's not every day a axe-wielding maniac ghost chases you around and hangs you by the scarf." he retorted with as much worry. "Tsk... I-I... I don't want to remember that... But it's also not the absolute worst thing I've been through before." the corner of her mouth lifted up in an ironic yet nervous semi-smile, which made him frown. "What could possibly top that?" he asked, curious. "...Another ghost hunt. In a love hotel. It, uh... I... I can't talk about it now, I'm too exhausted and it's far too painful. In fact, all those ghosts shattered me, in their own way." she shook her head quickly. "Remind me next time and I promise I'll tell you. The last thing I want is to go sleep with more screwed up memories." she shuddered, as Yuki curled up on her lap comfortably. "Hey, no, don't do that! Let me change first, then we can cuddle!" Kisara picked her up gently, putting her on the bed, as the maid brought her a large Tshirt and a pair of shorts that she changed in.

After helping Seiji get up to go to the bathroom and change as well, they got in bed, awkwardly looking at the ceiling, none of them saying anything, before she sighed and turned to face the boy.

"Come on, get down so I can hold you. You've been through enough today... But be careful with that leg, okay?" she spoke in a gentle voice, only to be surprised seeing him shake his head. "Let me hold you tonight. Trust me, that will make me feel much better, and you as well." he said, pulling her closer to him, as she rested her head on the crook of his neck. "Okay... Okay... I hope I can catch a wink of sleep, then..." somehow, being held by someone made her feel... Safe. Reassured and... Warm. She felt... happy. "Sweet dreams, Seiji." she murmured, a tired smile on her face, as he started playing with her hair, which instantly brought a sensation of drowsiness over her. "I hope you can sleep well and rest properly tonight, Kisara. Good night." he said, kissing the top of her head, feeling content with the image of the beautiful lady relaxing in his arms.

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[the-firebird69]

It's a few more things but we are getting to what's happening here it's important they're planning on dogging him screwing around with him all the way home and you just don't want to see this dumb behavior and it's ridiculous it's time for them to quit but they don't see fit to do so on the evacuation is commencing there's huge numbers of people at the airport even here in Charlotte county where they're not supposed to live a show those people didn't come back 50,000 did 30,000 are on the edge and maybe another 10,000 we heard there's only 20,000 on the edge so it is a hellacious day for them right now they say well we know what's going on there and they're checking fort Myers and it's ridiculous I was just send a few in and checking it then you know you're getting your butt kicked but their AI boy and AI man and Trump is AI boy and pja is AI man.

-there's a lot of trouble here with people who consider themselves to be superior to everyone and everything.

-more or less we have seen it all too but I would not talking about him we were talking about idiots who think they are and it's gross and dangerous we need them out we're picking up the sticks you know we figured it out I'm going after it people but this place is evacuating too you think by tonight right now it's like 35% tonight 17 or 18% and they probably won't come back and there's a lot of people leaving and her son do some of the ones who passed away in the past few months we haven't talked about mostly kind of distantly but he did lose a few friends so we knew and actually trying to help and people think it's good and they're just AirHeads and want to use extortion and we won't let it happen and we're busting them up for it there's a couple things that are additional

-we are opening up a lot of flights from Florida not to Florida they're not giving out that many round trip tickets if they want that they can try and get it on the other side and we're doing it on all the airlines yeah and other people are too. They're doing it here they want their people out and think they're going to take over by force and come back and do triumphant and stuff and bja will be the hero for freedom and democracy when in fact I guess they made a little bit of a mockery out of it more so Trump but he was involved and that's what people are saying you don't do that here.

-and the pseudo empire is taking over the government of Florida it's going to become very apparent today and tomorrow and they're absolutely pissed off about what happened that's happened recently but our son is telling them look good at all put my ice tea out back safely and it's true too and he doesn't drink I see but if he did it's true so we are gearing up right now and getting ready and we're going to roll this morning there's some news it is tertiary no it's a preamble to the space honesty and what's happening Saturday they are in fighting like madness mostly the trumps are trying to get up there and they managed to and that's the issue so bja is on the defensive and he's doing okay right now doing great more shortly and yeah the

- planet of the apes is coming up tomorrow and they're going to watch the film and they won't have time to spend the Starbucks card that's correct but they're going to be up there at the mall and they will watch the film and it's valuable and our son knows it now a certain films are very valuable the last one is extremely powerful and pointing in this one will be too he thinks it might even be when bja is pushed out and has his comeback and they actually push out the pseudo empire and the pseudo empire does come back and when is some of the mystery and surprise but that's for history and people scoff at it you're low level gifted people it's true let me tell you to be quiet and say well you happen to trusted but that's what you're doing and to try and get up and over it since it didn't work for them terrifically last time they want to do it better it's kind of like a second chance.

-so they're going ahead with this but the pseudo empire doesn't push its way back in history more or less until world war II occurs and tons of them died in the Holocaust. That was a global phenomena and they think they can recover from that and that is when they are pushed out and be in the planet of the apes occurs and they don't come back and go out and come back and go out and he goes to the island and he has a few other places so you can get to and our son says it's because we revive TWA that's whether you. And she got it and it's Sarah it's cuz it's a crappy airline. And who knows what TWA stands for trans world airlines so Sun guests guesses and Hera says no but that's what it is and she's laughing cuz she knows it is and he hurt her but this is how it goes you're not to stare or look for one of the bleep or it's a bleeding problem so TWA was a crappy airline and no we're not offering airline tickets for them to get back in coach or first class and he says I won't be having at that point and it says why who's going to do the surgery Dave so he's not laughing but he is and it is kind of funny because Dave might be over there with the computer and he he screwed so we're putting it this way we need him to do okay and we're trying to help faces right now I need to find a damn bag here is but TWA is a bad airline but they weren't that bad that's towards the end they really sucks and it's just a way of saying don't give me a free air player on Scrappy airline but they have a few places they keep it open they make deals because see minority more like a small and they have to I'm kind of works out for us too and they develop a comeback plan and it's kind of like a parallel to even the empire and they sort of know it but that's what they got they start working on it down there and they noticed that it's real in the future and they start working out more at that point Trump is very low and it's not on New Zealand that's pretty much not anywhere but small groupings to them and they try and be quiet. And it starts to work and he actually takes the country back and then it goes to present day Vietnam and things like that and present day but the pseudo empire is still around and present day is it will be coming up after a Vietnam Korea Iraq and Afghanistan is the finale supposedly but they plan to go through it again during that phase the warlock or being attacked by our son's clan and daughters and they knew it this time it will be the pseudo empire and both groups kind of disappear and minority more luck are moving in and the minorities us and Max and they're pushed out during the phase where BJ we takes it the pseudo empire employees minority moron and others and they hold it round and they try to get to Florida a lot and see that our son is sitting there with money in a place and are extremely angry and he's bigger it's like six foot three no this happens pretty quick and pretty big so more shortly

Thor Freya

Olympus

[thelediz]

Sonic Underground 09: The Deepest Fear

AKA: YES, WE ARE GOING TO SHOWCASE SONIC’S AQUAPHOBIA ON SCREEN

I’m watching Sonic Underground in search of inspiration to finish a fic I’ve been writing forever. It’s a sad state of affairs. See the recap of the first three episodes here, if you're interested!

The plot (for want of a better word): Called to Port Mobius to meet the Queen Aleena, the triplets uncover a scheme to sink ships using the threat of a sea monster known as Moby Deep! Can Sonic overcome his fear of water to save the town?

I'll tell you right now, this is one of the few episodes I love non-ironically. It's still not good, but the script? I like the script a lot.

They will never show Sonic reading on screen in this show, but this opening sequence is just a big ol’ proof of our boy having read classic lit and internalising it like whoa.

Port Mobius is the first of a couple of towns we’ll see in the series that is actually on Robotnik’s side. Have I mentioned how much I love the unspoken world building in this show?

They’re doing it because Robotnik claimed to be able to protect them from Moby Deep, which Manic has already claimed to be a story. So, making too much of this as I do, we can infer that Aleena disregarded Port Mobius’s fears about a sea monster – fears tangible enough to sway politics. LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING ABOUT HOW FEAR MONG-

Grumpy!Sonic, grumpy!Sonic, grumpy!Sonic! I love me some grumpy Sonic

And the sponge mobian forgetting he’s a sponge. So dumb. So good.

I have to give the trashfire props for how it’s handling the fear thing in this episode. Because generally speaking, Sonic’s aquaphobia isn’t debilitating. This is consistent across media. He can usually run on water, he can even jump in it, he just can’t swim and most media escalates that to a lack of ability to move leading to a general fear. But this episode is making him explicitly scared of going near water, and in this episode ONLY it’s making him act a bit confused and disconnected. It makes it very clear that this isn’t a failing or even the way it always is. Sometimes our fears overcome us, and we can’t deal with them, even when we have to. That’s when we need other people to help us work past the fear or at least function until it passes. And unlike basically every other lesson or issue the series will raise, this one sticks! Sonic never likes water in the series, and never gains the ability to swim, but he can cope as long as his siblings are there to help him.

I'm kind of admitting it’s good.

Moby Deep is a whale! This is apparently shocking.

He’s also a sweetheart. This should be shocking to no one watching.

And voiced by the same guy as Robotnik. Don’t notice that.

The Song: Face your Fears. Look. It’s old time brassy jazz, it’s corny as heck, you know I love it. It’s not rock and does not deserve the ‘boss sound system’ they set up for it.

Overall, an actually not bad episode! One of nine so far!

Come back tomorrow if you're interested for more!

[sayakxmi]

[Magi reread; special edition] Night 36.5: Night Flight & Night 37: Rememberance

So, fun fact, remember how in the previous chapter Morgiana just took Alibaba & left? Well, apparently Ohtaka made an extra, Night 36.5, which covers that flight.

Here it is.

Like, I'm already dealing with this dumb photo limit, guys, so I'll just stick to commenting it. Overall, it's just really neat, and worth reading. Also, I was right regading the WHY Morgiana sees Alibaba as her benefactor (spending that month in Qishan, using his wealth to help out her and all the other former slaves). It's really neat, honestly. The fact that she wants to thank him, and she wants to help him out now that he might need it, too.

There's just two small probems.

One of them is the fact that it's made into a joke - Alibaba hears none of it, because he's busy passig out, cuz she's moving too fast, and that really doesn't look good. Why is it that whenever Morgiana tries to be voulnerable, Alibaba doesn't hear it? There's gonna be at least one more moment like that in the future (god, I'm not there yet, and I'm already dreading these fucking boat chapters; last time I didn't finish my reread, because of them, ugh), and that doesn't promise a very good romantic relationship for the both of them. Again, Morgiana's an exception for Alibaba, but in a negative way.

And then there's the other problem with it - it's an extra. Remember how I've said that there were signs of Morgiana being eventually sidelined? This is one of them. Why is it an extra? Why not make it a part of the chapter? Why isn't it treated like something important? Why aren't Mogiana's feelings treated like something imporant? The writing's were on the wall, guys, they really were.

----Night 37----

He means Anime!Sinbad.

Thank you, Ja'far, for being the one guy to remember this.

Oh my fucking god. I was always thinking how weirdly Alibaba's lips were detailed for some reason. His mouth is open. That's all. They're not detailed. It's just open mouth. Oh my fucking god.

That realization aside, I am, once again, sad.

I want to say something funny or insightful, but I'm mostly just sad reading that. "Hehe, to think that there were so many things that I can do!" There are, but you wanted to see your best friend again. And he broke that promise you've made. Not because he wanted to, just because he feels trapped in the mess he's currently in. Man, I'm just sad.

Why is he so cute.

Ughm stop making me feel feelings.

AGH

COME ON

Of course you were. You decided this is your bestest friend ever several hours into meeting him, bro. Agh, this shit must hurt so badly.

Hm.

SHE JUST YEETED HIM IN

Talk about awkward, but also, gdi, Alibaba, you sure end up in this sort of position more often than you should.

Awkward.

They're trying ok.

You know, I blame neither of them here. Morgiana has a point, but I also get that it's difficult for Alibaba to talk about it, and he's under so much pressure already, to have just another person come here and tell him to hurry up and do something. Like, I do feel bad. But again, I get where Morgiana's impatience comes from.

Totally understandable.

And you're right. But you're missing a lot of context that you're about to get.

Still, her reaction is understandable, and, frankly, so is Alibaba's hesitance. Like I've said, I blame neither here. They're both in their own rights.

Like, for the past six months that's kind of what Alibaba's been dealing with, because of Cassim. No matter how much I love him, and I love their relationship in general, that most certainly was pretty abusive. We've already seen it. So to suddenly have another person yell and demand things from him...

Aladdin is (technically literally) a godsend. It honestly matters so much that he lets Alibaba actually cool down first. Also, worth mentioning that the conversation between Alibaba and Cassim happened, idk, half an hour earlier? It's probably still fresh in his mind.

He waited for him : (

I can't with him still similing. God.

Ugh, the fact that he DOESN'T JUDGE HIM. Everybody always judges him, or demands things from him, but here is Aladdin, who, in spite of everything, still believes in him. I just fucking can't, y'all.

You won't meet him until much much much later, you'll even manage to die in the meantime.

Existence is pain, I am suffering, this is just too fucking much, god, look, how Cassim is smiling, he's a baby, oh my god, I'm so fucking sad man, why was I born in this world, just to suffer-

[danteragnulf]

"Alright, yeah, um... Sit... Yeah, take a seat, and I'll take a seat, and then we'll both be uh... Sitting." Fuck that sounded dumb, anyways; Dante took a seat as he perched himself on the surface of one of the picnic tables as cleared his throat. He strummed a preparatory few strings as his calloused fingers moved over the familiar chords. It was still in tune, but he was kind of just killing time before it was going to be too apparent that he was uncharacteristically nervous.

Performance anxiety had stopped getting to Dante a few years ago, but there was something that happened when he performed. It was like storytelling; in those old myths, you could be Thor for a few measures, you could be the All-Father giving up his eye for wisdom, or the trickster giving birth to an eight-legged horse. When he sang he wasn't Anders's younger brother, he wasn't the runt of the Tana litter, he got to be someone else.

Dante strummed as he looked towards Kay, and then, just like that, he was back into his own skin. Nerves immediately settled as the lycan opened his mouth and began to sing, fingers habitually moving over the chords as he started the arrangement. "We found Wonderland. You and I got lost in it, and we pretended it could last forever." Just over a year ago, Dante had been chasing after Kay in the woods, following after with the Red jokes, Mania Barbie, and the big bad wolf; something had happened that night, and maybe Dante wouldn't ever really understand it, but they were connected because of it. "We took a wrong turn and fell down a rabbit hole; you held on tight to me."

He'd been adamant from the start about what this was between them, a fling that wouldn't last because Dante wouldn't stick around. He wanted his brother to pack it in and go home so that Dante could fuck off to whatever came next. Anywhere but here, anywhere that meant he didn't have to put down roots. "Didn't they tell us 'don't rush into things'? Haven't you heard what becomes of curious minds? Didn't it all seem new and exciting?"

Anders wasn't the problem, Kay wasn't the problem, and Dante could have spent the rest of his life blaming the pack for not accepting him or blaming his brother for getting sick. Blaming his father for dying before they could reconcile, but he'd ended up in this city for a reason, and Kay wasn't his -purpose- or whatever... But he was integral to it. "I felt your arms twistin' around me when you told me about Wonderland, how you and I got lost in it. You said our lives would never be worse but never better."

Dante had tried to set things straight, he'd tried to put space between them and tried to do the whole 'tough love' thing, but love wasn't meant to be tough. Kay was a disaster, but so was Dante, and just because someone didn't love themself didn't mean they didn't deserve to be loved right where they were. "So, you and I will go on our way, too in love to think straight, even when whispers turn to talkin', turn to screamin'. We could search the world for somethin' to make us feel like what we have, and in the end, in Wonderland, we can both go mad."

A few tears stained Dante's cheeks, embarrassing and not conducive to the image of an aloof musician, but here he was, making an absolute fucking fool out of himself. Committed to the bit. "We'll find Wonderland, you and I'll get lost in it, and we'll pretend it'll last forever. We'll find Wonderland, you and I'll get lost in it, and we'll never be worse but never better."

The strumming faded out as Dante cleared his throat, blue eyes made bluer by the water that had accrued at the sides. He sniffed and then smiled uncomfortably because he'd just- yeah, he'd really just done that. "I'm like... So crazy about you, I love you so much I just sang a Taylor Swift song at you in a public place. I know I didn't say it before, I just-" He shrugged, "I've got my shit too."

Kay blinked once, then twice, then three times and he'd been to a ridiculous amount of parties in his thirty years of life now. There was always a guy with a guitar at those parties, hell, that's practically how they'd met and he'd let said guy with a guitar fuck him in the bathroom. Crashing on couches in his early twenties, he'd even slept with a decent amount of those guys, the musicians trying to make a name for themselves by doing open mic night at bars. The thing was, none of them had ever played something for him beyond him maybe requesting a particular cover. He's a writer, he's a music guy himself, what Dante is proposing tics a lot of boxes, it's some Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist coming of age movie stuff. They can come of age at like thirty, they can come together except not like that....Except exactly like that later- "Yes. Yes I can even maintain eye contact."

[slasherhaven]

Lester needs more love who agrees >:0 He’s a bean, a sweet sweet man

Could you maybe write his reaction to a sweet future S/O who’s supplying Ambrose with food or smth or delivers Vincents art supplies (so they don’t wanna kill her) and despite Bo being all charming she sticks to Lester? (And maybe they show visible discomfort/anger after a dumb comment Bo made towards Lester and they defend him maybe?) idk if that’s too weird. I would love to read your take on this! If not thats also totally ok, I really love your blog

Lester Sinclair's future S/O delivering supplies to Ambrose:

You ventured into Ambrose routinely, delivering food and necessities to the sparse residents of the town. You had set up a deal with Bo while he was picking up supplied one day and you had been keeping up the arrangement every since.

You didn't ask questions, you didn't care much about why they were the only residents of the town, you just assumed it was a tourist attraction thing. You were also reliable. So that was good enough for Bo to let you edge towards the town to bring them supplies.

You quickly learnt that he had two brothers, one being his twin and the other being younger than them. Vincent and Lester.

You didn't meet Vincent, Bo telling you that he was shy, until much later and even then he never spoke, and you learnt his was mute. It didn't bother you, you were still polite and friendly and he was the same.

You had met Lester much earlier on, during only your second visit to Ambrose. He had been friendly but somewhat awkward, though he seemed to relax more when you laughed at his silly jokes, apparently people didn't often understand them or find them funny. You did though and it made his day.

Lester was just...nice to be around. He was friendly and funny, he was easy-going, he showed you around town, he was grateful for your help. You just liked him.

Bo was friendly too, in his own way. He was charming, you couldn't deny that, but you found Lester more endearing so you gravitated towards him during your visits. The two of you getting along well and becoming somewhat close over your time knowing each other.

Unknown to you, this was beginning to frustrate Bo. He wasn't used to Lester getting more attention than him from tourists, usually he was the one that outsiders felt more comfortable around.

Lester was pretty surprised as well, his experiences with tourists haven't been very positive. They were always on edge around him, seeing him as some dumb and dangerous hick that smelt like roadkill. Some were weary around Bo as well but they eased up around him easier, they warmed up to him, some would even liked him, flirted with him. So, it was strange that you seemed to prefer Lester, he wasn't used to that sort of attention at all.

You were in Ambrose yet again, having parked the truck outside the garage and started unloading the supplies from the back.

"Y'know Lester is sweet on ya, right?" Bo's voice caught your attention, following the sound of the bell about the garage door ringing faintly from inside.

You just rolled your eyes, focusing on unloading the supplies. You had known Bo long enough to know he enjoyed annoying people, getting under your skin however he could.

"Just leave him alone, will ya? It ain't fair givin' him false hope like that, leadin' him on" he continued when he got no response.

"I'm not leading anyone on" you told him blankly, placing two bags down in front of him before returning to the truck to get the rest.

"Can't have ya breaking my brother's heart" Bo hummed, lighting up a cigarette, just watching you work. "It's almost sad, him thinking he has a chance with ya, sweetheart" he chuckled before taking a drag of his cigarette.

"Excuse me?" you frowned, turning to him properly, forgetting about unloading the supplies. "First of all, don't call me sweetheart. Second of all, who said he doesn't have a chance with me? He's cute, he's sweet, he's funny. He has a pretty good chance with me, actually. Much better than you would" you told him, setting him straight. You knew that bruising Bo's ego was the best way to get to him and that just about did it.

"Uh, am I interrupting something?" Lester interjected awkwardly, looking between you both curiously.

"Nope. Was just telling your brother that I think you're cute and that he's an asshole" you told him, giving Bo a sarcastic smile.

Oh, he had heard you, he just couldn't believe it. You had called him cute, sweet, funny. He couldn't remember anyone describing him in such a way. Apparently he had a better chance with you than Bo did? Could you actually like him like he liked you? He didn't dare get his hopes up.

"Whatever you say, sweetheart. You've got your money, finish unloading this shit and get outta here" Bo ordered, tossing his half smoked cigarette to the floor and stepping on it before walking away.

"H-he bothering you?" Lester asked, scratching the back of his neck.

"Nah, no more than usual. He's just trying to annoy me, nothing new. He should be nicer about his brothers though" you assured him with a small shrug. You really didn't mind when Bo tried to bother you, it never really worked, but you didn't like the way he tried to subtly degrade or discredit Lester.

Lester just shrugged. Yeah, Bo could be an asshole sometimes but he knew that he cared for him and Vincent.

"Y'really think I'm cute?" Lester asked, following you to the door of your truck, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"'course I do. I'm not blind" you chuckled as you turned back to him, just in time to see him blushing. "I'll see ya next time, alright?" you asked, already knowing you would.

Lester nodded, his face feeling like it was on fire when you stepped forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He just watched with an infatuated smile as you climbed into your truck, giving him a wave before driving out of Ambrose.

The next time you visited Ambrose with the usual delivery, Lester greeted you as soon as you climbed out of your truck. A bunch of handpicked flowers in hand, some of them were weeds but you didn't say anything about it, it was still very sweet and you loved them. He was just a very sweet man.

Bo saw the exchange through the garage widow, rolling his eyes as you accepted the flowers and lent in to press a kiss to his little brother's cheek. He nearly groaned when Lester started helping you unload the truck, sickened by how sweet Lester had become on you.

As Bo stepped out of the garage, Lester nodded at you and walked over to him. "Hey, Bo, you don't need my help with anything tonight, right?" Lester asked.

"No, been a quiet day" Bo shrugged, only planning on storing supplies before taking the night off.

"Okay, good. I'm uh...gonna go for some drinks with Y/n" Lester informed him, clearly surprising him.

"...is that so?" the older brother cocked an eyebrow.

"Yeah, she invited me out...thought it might be fun" Lester shrugged.

"Alright" Bo hummed as you walked over, giving him a polite smile. "Enjoy yourselves" he nodded but didn't stop there. "Don't do anything I would do" he warned Lester before turning on his heel and heading up to the house without another word. Perhaps to talk to Vincent.

"Is it weird that I thought he'd find an excuse to keep you in town?" you asked, leaning into Lester like you were sharing some sort of secret.

"Nah...that ain't weird at all" Lester chuckled, he was surprised that Bo hadn't come up with a reason to stop Lester from going out with you. Bo never did trust outsiders, maybe he was starting to trust you a little.

"Looks like we're goin' on a date after all" you grinned at him before heading back towards your truck, as if you hadn't completely blown Lester's mind.

"D-date?!" Lester questioned as he scurried after you.

"What would you call it?" you asked as you turned back to him, a small smirk on your face.

"Yeah, a date sounds good" Lester nodded, a light pink forming on his cheeks as he smiled at you.

"Good, climb in" you nodded to your truck before walking around it to climb into the driver's seat.

Lester nodded, happily hopping up into the truck, closing the door and smiling at you as you joined him. Lester had a good feeling about this date and hopes that some things were going to change for the two of you, maybe you would even come around to Ambrose more often. He would really like that.