#if THIS fine ass man also had the better card AND the better account to manage

[notsoevilmagistrate]

REJECT JARED LETO AS PAUL! Reject tradition! Jared’s an ass honestly, and even though I love him as Paul, I say there’s something better.

Consider the musical, CONSIDER!!!

Consider Drew Moerlein, that’s all I gotta say.

[serendertothesquad]

Seren's Studies: Wordsville's Official Release -- Is It Really an Odd Squad Clone? (Part 2)

Because Tumblr! Photo limits! Why, uh...whose dumb idea was it to put a photo limit in here? Man, that'll take a while to get used to.

Let's go on with Part 2 of my Wordsville analysis.

(Make sure you read through Part 1 first!)

If this were any other show with a reasonable episode length, I'd be fine with this. Covering all this? Essential to a mystery.

In 8 minutes, though? No. They fill out half of the columns in a rush in the first half, and then leave three open for the second half of the runtime. Read my digital lips: N. O. Not if you want your series to be good.

This is a good time to remind people they are putting out 33 episodes of this shit. That is an entire-ass season of messy pacing, rushed plotlines, and characters that I wouldn't know a single thing about if I hadn't unearthed the series' synopsis and character descriptions.

They have.

Their own.

FUCKING.

CURRENCY?!?!?!

Y'know, even Jackalope Dollars make some sense. Canadian money makes some sense. This? This is repainted Monopoly money and you can get the fuck out of my house with that because it's card-only entry.

I do so remember when WordGirl had a bit of a popularity renaissance on Twitter last year or so.

This show...is like the complete and utter opposite of that.

Ahaha...geddit? 'Cause...'cause she's an athlete, and...she's eating a brownie...which is unhealthy...

ARE YOU LAUGHING, SON? ARE YA LAUGHIN'? DO YOU FIND THIS FUNNY OH MY GOD PLEEEEEEEEASE LAUGH.

makes edible food that is meant to net customers said edible food is not for sale

By all accounts, people, these donuts are meant to be edible. So in what fuck-all world of logic would you use edible food as an advertising gimmick for a bakery? That shit will go bad within a week, and then what? You waste supplies remaking them.

Bro, get some cardboard copies. Fuck, in this high-tech universe you could probably 3D-print inedible donuts that spell "scrumptious" and put them on display!

AND THAT.

IS WHY.

YOU MAKE.

THEM.

INEDIB-

"Official Word Mystery business", "official Odd Squad business", it's all the same and you're not being slick.

You could tell me this was Otto's little brother and I honestly wouldn't even argue with you on that. I'd give you $10 and concede.

Man, and I thought Odd Squad's "Why Did the Chicken Cross the Dimension" featured abuse way too heavily for my liking, and here's this kid feeding donuts to a cat which are made out of ingredients cats really shouldn't eat, let alone digest.

Graham didn't make these treats cat-friendly. They were made for humans. And he's giving them to a cat.

As someone who worked at an animal shelter, of course you realize this means war, Gene Vet Wilder.

I'm not gonna lie to all of you.

I was legitimately going to fawn over the cat...until my eyes drifted down, and I thought the cat was wearing a feline airbag.

It's dude's arm.

...No more BIG BONG tonight.

Naming your cat "Yummy" means you have already committed at least ten cat crimes.

It's also ironic, because cats can and will eat your dead corpse.

Give dude 30 years, it'll catch up with him.

No. No. You know what sounds cute? Nyammy.

You know what doesn't sound cute? Yummy.

You know what name isn't crazy ironic? Nyammy.

Problem solved.

I think I can safely say "Crime at Shapely Manor" handled the traditional mystery a lot better than...uh...whatever this was going for.

Not animated + L + ratio'd + tour an animation school and call me back.

See, the reason why this hurts is because this just proves the entire series could be animated, in full and properly, and there would be no issue.

What we got is Sinking Ship's brand of creation applied in one of the worst ways possible, and I'm still as disappointed as when I walked in here.

At the very least, I'll give them points for not having Glory and Wilder and Graham voice themselves. Given how they weren't there when Gabby and Sly were solving the case, it would be too weird.

And this is why you don't make edible food as an advertising gimmick to get people to buy your shit aaaaaaaaand I have a headache again.

But- I- br- HOW DID BRO GET A BOX FOR THE DONUTS. H O W . NOT GONNA EXPLAIN THAT SHIT ARE YOU YA SORRY FU-

It's pretty much standard business knowledge that the advertisement-making comes first, before you serve the customer.

But this guy made his advertising while on the job. You...uh...well, you can do that, but in this particular case, that's what we call "a dumbass move".

FWIW, returning bought food to the bakery you bought it from is also a dumbass move.

I don't care if these haven't been touched. Eat them, and then help Graham make new ones. Inedible ones.

Cool!

TOSS THEM THE FUCK OUT.

Seren puts on a tight smile. "No," she utters. "No. When Odd Squad does it, it's funny. Not here."

Seren then spends 34 years eyeballing the Hollywood music industry aggressively.

In 7 minutes, with rushed pacing, and I have no idea what the hell your personality is even supposed to be.

Sly's, yeah, a little. Yours? I- no. Mm-mm.

...Okay, I don't know what the hell her personality is supposed to be besides loving gingerbread.

Seriously, this is one of the few times the sample script is actually better than what we got.

Oh fucking hell. No wonder I didn't like this episode -- it was written by the same person who created it.

And it's been a while since I've had to whip this out, but I'm going to take the criticism I had about Season 3 writers not watching Odd Squad before getting hired and apply it to here. If Christin had actually watched Odd Squad prior to writing and creating this show, I guaran-goddamn-tee we would have gotten something leagues better. And I know they've written for other SSE shows, but this is focusing on Odd Squad and Wordsville specifically.

Credits rundown to avoid hitting the photo limit:

Mia SwamiNathan plays Gabby. She also voices Zadie in Work It Out Wombats (haha Canadian actor pool, dive in suckers!), and while Zadie is my favorite character, that will not give this show any sort of a saving grace. The actress, yes. The show, hell no.

Matthew Bishop is the animation Executive Producer. He also worked on Odd Squad. Which makes the stuff in this show seem a lot more insulting.

Ah, yes. What I want all my songs for my show to be made by. A company called Daysun. (Hey, FWIW, I've seen worse.)

Wait, wait! It can get worse! Smiley Guy Studios did the animation! And y'know, I could make a "they hired people from Walmart to animate this shit?" joke, but instead I'll say how Sinking Ship has a whole-ass animation division and they couldn't animate the show themselves. If they did, it would have been a lot better than what we got.

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

So I might as well address the elephant in the room to kick off the conclusion: is Wordsville an Odd Squad ripoff, really and truly?

The answer...no. Not exactly. If anything, it's more like an inferior copy, if the word "copy" were hanging fast and loose like a shoe on an electric wire.

I'm going to use "Crime at Shapely Manor" as a direct comparison. In that episode, we get a sort of traditional mystery similar to what Wordsville gives us. We have suspects lined out, we have what they did, we have clues, we have a summation, all that jazz. The difference, though, is that "Crime at Shapely Manor" not only had 14 more minutes to flex their skills in the mystery genre beyond what spin Odd Squad in and of itself as a show puts on it (typical of police procedurals, it does have mystery elements), but they did it incredibly well. Even with the suspect being a downright fucking cliche, they still managed to do it while leaving the audience entertained and opening our minds to the personalities of "I can emote like a Discord chat server" Olive and "I do not understand financial concepts when it comes to very valuable furniture pieces" Otto. It can breathe. It does mystery well. Wordsville...doesn't. Eight minutes is not sufficient for the mystery genre. And if you want to prove me wrong by showing me a piece of media from a mystery show made for kids that is 8 minutes long, go right ahead. Enlighten me. Prove me wrong. But there my opinion stands.

I really could bore you all with the differences I managed to unearth between Wordsville and Odd Squad. I really could. Even more than that, I could bore you all with all the negative shit I found in what has to be the craziest combined 40 minutes I ever wasted of my life. But I'll boil it down to key elements only.

So first of all...the characters. The side ones are confined to a single career just based on their names, and as far as I can tell, the only trait they were all given was "serious about their jobs". (Gene Vet Wilder also does...magic, I guess? I mean whatever floats the boat...) Gabby and Sly, on the other hand...I genuinely can't pinpoint them. Best I can gather is that Gabby is the serious one and Sly is the silly one. So basically, an Olive/Otto dynamic where their little siblings take the spotlight. That's about it. Their friendship, let alone their personalities, are barely touched on in favor of shoving the mystery in your face. For an example: one episode revolves around their "Friendaversary", and them disagreeing on what they're going to do to celebrate it. Now, we already got this as an Odd Squad conflict in a similar way, and it was amazing. I loved "Happy Halfiversary"! Otis busted his ass for Olympia, and she did the same for him. We got some worldbuilding, some good old character interactions, and some funny jokes to boot. For "Uncompromising Community", what we get is a shitty plot that only serves as gift wrap for the mystery of the episode, which revolves around Firefighter Ember giving a fire safety course that Reporter Read plans to make a new story out of, while Baker Graham has a prior engagement with her. And if you're thinking "that sounds fun", then watch the episode and get back to me. That's good for an 11-minute plot. Not for 8 minutes with a full minute dedicated to both opening and closing credits.

Second on the list is the lack of worldbuilding. Lore. Basically anything of substance. Wordsville is, at its core, episodic. So's Odd Squad, to an extent. For Wordsville, if I hadn't read the synopsis of the series prior to watching it, I wouldn't know what the fuck was going on or what it was even about. I wouldn't know that the main cast are supposed to be only children, or that Wordsville is apparently a town...somewhere...on a map...somewhere. Does the Wordsville Online Detective Agency only have Gabby and Sly? Why is it online-only? Is there air? You don't know! I don't know either, and that's the thing that gets to me. I wasn't expecting anything heavy and lore-filled a la Odd Squad, but I wasn't expecting anything simplistic and bland, either. I've seen slice-of-life kids cartoons, and a lot of them are more enjoyable and have a lot more stuff to work with while also expanding on the world and telling me more about it. Wordsville...ain't it. It gives a big "fuck you" and trucks along.

Third of all, the educational aspect of it. Old-timers who have been watching the show for a long time know that one of the things that makes Odd Squad appealing is how it hides math into the plot in a way where it isn't super obvious and all up in your George Foreman grill. It's there, sure, and it does hinder the plot at times, but for me, I don't mind it. I'm still engaged. I want to know what happens. For Wordsville, the education is, indeed, all up in my George Foreman grill. It is fucking everywhere. Not hidden, just completely out in the open. WordGirl is probably the best show I can draw a comparison to, even though it's in a different demo -- while WordGirl does have word lessons, they are slipped into the plot much like Odd Squad and aren't shoved in there with an attitude I dare to even call obligatory. Wordsville is the entire opposite, and they absolutely do not, cannot, and will not miss a chance to educate you on words any chance it gets. Do not let the 4-7 age bracket fool you; this is a preschool show on something far more fucked up than "I'm having an 18-hour seizure with the cockroaches on a public bathroom floor" meth. And don't let Odd Squad's 4-8 age bracket fool you; that's a kids show people have watched while high on weed and had hella crazy trips. (And acid, in one case, which got far crazier.)

And finally, the animation, which I mentioned before but I'm bringing up more to summarize. Like I said, Odd Squad has good animation. Not 2D, though; it's CGI. It's not stellar, but it's solid. The creature designs in particular get real crazy. In Wordsville, the "animation" is drag-and-drop stuff that's half-done and has characters' heads and expressions on them for the lawl unique 'n quirky. I'm not shitting you when I said I was thinking of South Park when I was watching the animated bits. Hell, you could tell me the animated bits were a South Park parody and I'd believe you! But it's not. It's not a parody at all. And before you go at my throat saying "that is a literal child", I'd like to remind you that I know people under 18 who draw and animate a lot better. (I'm looking at a good chunk of you reading this and giving you a thumbs-up. Keep up the great work!) It's just like I said before: they had the potential to do something better, and they completely threw it away. Animation is hard. It's expensive. Sinking Ship is not a rich company. But they've done better in terms of 2D animation. They could have done better here.

What my opinion of the show overall boils down to is that I would have been happy with just the show synopsis and the sample script. I would have been happy with the one Seren's Study. Now, not only have I been proven fantastically wrong, but I've been proven fantastically wrong in the worst way I could have ever possibly imagined, because it somehow got worse than what I was expecting.

Now, I'm going to put a disclaimer out that this is my opinion. If you wanna go and watch Wordsville and decide for yourself how it is, go for it! Be my guest! No one's stopping you, and if you happen to like it then I will respect your opinion. But as it stands across these first 5 episodes, it's not my cup of tea. I think I'm better off giving WordGirl a rewatch.

Thanks for reading. See you all in the next Seren's Study!

[aelingalathyniusrailme]

If you find me on the edge, we’ll jump together.

Gwynriel Pirate au pt 6 

this chapters a little long and fluffy but I really like it and I finally gave it a name

Here are the other parts if you’re interested :) pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5

what had azriel’s life become? In the past 24 hours his ship became infested with dangerous females, he had given up his most prized possession, and he was on his way to find a being that still haunted his nightmares. 

Berdara was a fine persuader but money was even better. Too bad they seemed to come in tandem. The captain of the shadowsinger needed this hall and there was no way in hell he was loosing a dime to the cutthroat redhead he now lived with. 

He stole a glance toward her to find her staring intently at the map. Her mind, her calculating, cold, ruthless mind at work. Her eyes shot up to his and she gave him a smirk, flashing the whites of her teeth and winked. he knew others would see a friendly smile but all he saw were fangs

Infuriating as she might be, she had not said one word, in the past few hours about his meltdown or the other thing he had yet to let himself dwindle over. He was caught between appreciation and the feeling that he wasn’t worth a second thought to her. 

“so where will my crew and I be sleeping” her voice was light but there was a slight edge. 

“The room next to mine.” He grit his teeth in preparation for the comment that was sure to follow that statement. “now you’re going to say something crude” 

at the same time gwyneth said with a wink, “want to keep me close, captain? all you have to do is ask?”

The slight shock on her face elicited pure joy from azriel. While hidden, a practiced eye saw the way her mouth slightly parted and her eyes flare. It was his turn to smirk as he responded, “Your majesty is becoming quite predictable.”  

gwyn smiled her psychotic smile and stepped closer to him. too close. “wouldn’t want that,” she whispered into his hear as if she was telling him a secret. Her voice wrapped it’s claws around his throat and squeezed, pulling him to her. 

Azriel coughed “You’re all going to have to share a room.”

“it’s quite alright, my crew and I have shared beds before.” There was a suggestive glint in her eyes. and blood rushed to his face faster than this girl could threaten and flirt in the same breath. 

“I don’t believe I said anything about sharing beds.” 

“Oh I know, but sometimes, shadowsinger, we must learn the difference between necessity and pleasure.” Azriel’s pupils dilated and his skin felt tight and hot.

Gwyn leaned in once again and teased, whispering, “Predictability is worth seeing you blush like a school girl.” She threw her fiery hair over her shoulder and walked away leaving him gaping like an idiot. 

cassian and rhys walked out from his room and rhys said with a chuckle “she’s something alright.”

cassian looked at him with mock sincerity “promise me I’ll be the bridesmaid at your wedding”

“and will it be a double with you and that second of hers?”

He held his hands to his chest and tilted his head, “only in my dreams”

Rhys swung his arm around him laughing, “You’re pathetic.” 

————————————————————————

5 days passed and every one of them was torturous. His crew at their wits end with hers. Apparently the two blondes were causing quite a bit of trouble. It had seemed one had wiped the floor with his entire crew when it came to the cards while the other was a bit of a thief, a petty thief. 

His sharpshooter had made the mistake of whistling at Emerie, she tossed him into the ocean without so much as batting an eye. Thankfully they got him out in time and rest assured there were no more comments or touching. 

He hadn’t seen Berdara much as she had been holed up in her room barely leaving beyond the occasional meal. Though every time she did grace his presence, she was sure to leave him flustered beyond relief. What about this girl make him loose all of his composure, he wasn’t sure. But avoidance was a useful tool. 

Don’t think about it, don’t care azriel thought as he watched Cassian and Rhys spar on the deck of his ship. HIs two best fighters, facing off until suddenly rhys was knocked to the ground from behind. The culprit, the silver majesties second, Nesta. 

There was a determined look in her eyes, cold ambition. 

Cassian laughed, unfazed. 

“my turn.” her voice was one of mock innocence, venom drenched in sugar.

“don’t be so eager sweatheart.” 

“Eager to knock your arrogant ass down a few pegs” 

“Ooh she’s feisty.” And with that Nesta attacked. She wasn’t graceful but she fought as if her life depended on it, a sure sign that at one point or another it did. She swerved and jabbed with a desperate urgency, one you could only learn on the streets. Cassian dodged and deflected, though he was working much harder than usual. It seemed he also had something to prove. 

Azriel turned, knowing this fight would not be over any time soon, to find Berdara walking right towards him. “Nesta will not loose this fight.” 

“funny, neither will cassian.” 

Gwyneth gave him a serious look. “She does not loose, she never has and she never will.” 

“hmm. It’s never too late to try new things.” 

gwyn rolled her eyes before a glint appeared in them. “care for a rematch?” 

“fists or swords?” 

“Let’s spice it up, swords.”

“double or single?”

“A sword and a dagger.” 

“Surrender or mercy.” 

“Seeing you kneel to me will be sweet.” she paused. “Surrender.” 

“You’re on.”

“Pirates oath?”

“A gentleman always plays fair.” She unsheathed her sword and dagger holding one in each hand and smirked. “too bad I am no mere man.”  she lunged but azriel had been expecting that and side stepped pulling out his own sword and dagger. 

Where nesta had been brute force and aggression, Gwyneth was all grace and speed. She fought with the efficiency of someone who trained with the queens guard themselves. It was like fighting a tornado, she was fast like lightning and when she struck she struck hard. Every move was beautiful and deadly, just like her. 

————————————————————————

“We dock in 15 minutes.” Azriel called out to his crew. 

“What no, we need to keep going.” Gwyn replied.

“What we need is to restock supplies so we don’t starve to death before we’re richer than the queen herself.” 

she gave him a confused look, as if he was speaking a different language.

“We’ve been sailing non-stop for almost 2 weeks and we are out of supplies.”

gwyn mumbled something that sounded like “pathetic.” 

As soon as Azriel dropped the anchor his entire crew rushed off the shadowsinger, desperate to be away from the insane women. With of course the exception of Cassian for he was leaning against the rails of the ship bothering Nesta while she was pointedly ignoring him. 

“Hey, enough with the heart eyes we’ve got shit to do.” Azriel barked at Cassian who then frowned and sulked off the ship while nesta stared at him with her cold, blank expression. “You too sunshine. Let’s get moving.” 

“Order me to do something again and I will cut off your limbs one by one and feed you them for breakfast.” 

“I’m counting down the hours.” Azriel narrowly missed the dagger she threw at his head.

“Don’t call me sunshine.” and nesta walked off the ship, katanas at her hips glinting in the cold sun of the winter court. She looked right in her element. 

Before he called these women insane but that was far too gentle of a statement, the females that had found their way onto Berdara’s ship were absolutely, completely batshit crazy. 

Az was sure everyone was off his ship, everyone was accounted for and yet something was nagging at him. 

A flash of red caught his eye and he turned to see the captain of the silver majesty sitting on the railing, one misstep and she would fall. Though there was no doubt in his mind that she would survive the deadly drop. This women seem to defy all odds, why not death? Her smile was wild and just a little bit mad as the wind swept and curled through her hair pushing it back from her face. As if it wanted nothing more than to be flowing through her her fiery locks that mirrored her spirit. Gwyn closed her eyes, feeling the breeze, the sun lighting up the freckles that spread across her cheeks. She was

“Are you done gawking?” she said without even opening her eyes. 

horrible, she was absolutely unquestionably horrible. “If I may, what are you doing majesty?” 

She turned toward him, in the sun the blue of her iris’s had a twinge of green as if she was born for the sea. “I am simply reminding myself why I left.” Her eyes gazed hungrily over the vast sea as though she saw a challenge, one she had to conquer. “who could resist all this?”

It was unlike her to offer such a raw statement with no ulterior motive and while it was entirely possible she did have one, Azriel believed her. Azriel believed her because he shared the exact feeling. The longing for freedom, the found solstice in constant change and motion, and the occasional guilt for leaving that ultimately fades because it will never not be worth it. 

“I pity them.” 

“Fools.”

“Utterly.” She offered no more as she hopped down from the railing. 

They walked in comfortable silence as they both took in the beauty of the winter court. It was all ice and snow with a slight aura of loneliness. 

Together the two captains arrived at the inn. It was cozy and warm and was placed separately from the rest of the town. His eyes shifted and he saw what had to have been the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. It was a bar. Thank fucking goodness. Azriel knew without a doubt that they all desperately needed some liquor. 

In the bar he immediately found both their combined crew. A crowd of men and women had surrounded Rhys, hanging on every word he said while he soaked it up flirting to his hearts content. Azriel was going to have to give him a limit on the number of people he could fuck at once, this was getting ridiculous. Next he found Cassian, Tarquin and Viviane doing shots at the bar. But he noticed every time his glance shifted to a certain girl in the corner of the room. Nesta was in a booth with Emerie sipping whiskey, talking in low voices. Cressedia and Drakon were in a heated drinking game and-

Azriel knocked into a body he immediately recognized as Lucien and he held out his hand at once glaring. 

“Hey captain.” He said cheerfully. 

“empty now.”

The kid dumped a pile of jewels, wallets, and id’s in his hand. 

Azriel smirked approvingly “get me a ruby, an Id of a man who could pass for the high lord of the winter court, and 500 more dollars.” Lucien nodded greedily and ran along. It had been a game between the two of them for Azriel to give him outlandish challenges to sharpen his skill as a thief. 

But before Lucien could leave the bar every lamp extinguished and the bar turned quiet. 

Strangers gasped and knives were drawn. 

Moments later the lights reappeared and once his eyes readjusted he saw a women holding two daggers to the throats of Tarquin and Viviane. They struggled against her. But she just laughed and scolded. “No no no. shhhh” Before she looked up again. 

“We need to have a chat.” every word was clipped and short. “Put your weapons away and these two might get to live to see another day.” It was an order, and a threat. Azriel didn’t take kindly to threats. 

Gwyn looked to the 3 remaining who followed her and nodded at them to listen. He nodded to his own crew. 

Nesta sneered but dropped her katanas to the ground. She opened her mouth to speak but Rhys beat her to it, pushing away the women he was flirting with as he drawled to the women in front of them. 

“It’s been a long time Feyre, darling.”

tag list: @imsointobooks @meher-sumedha @himadrij @gwynrielsupremacy @ipsa-est-lux-plenae @flora-shadowshine @allthebooksunderthemoon @valkygwyn @bookish-isha @lattristantketchup

[thesameasbe4]

Tangled Up in Tuscany

Sebastian Stan showing all of us that he’s really just a normal guy with a nice jaw line. 

It wasn’t my first time in Tuscany, but the last time had been over ten years ago on a high school trip. I wasn’t expecting it to be quite the same experience this time, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. I stepped into the grand entrance of the hotel, doing my best not to look too out of place amidst the fine room and well dressed people. I had not traveled with the rest of the wedding party out of Atlanta, unlike the rest of them, I had a real job and couldn’t just take off three weeks for a luxurious wedding, so I was the last to arrive by about five days. And in that time I had been bombarded by the photos and messages on the bridal party group text of all the extravagant things they had been doing. Touring old churches, wine tasting, eating at the most elegant restaurants. While I was a tad jealous, I also got the impression that doing these things in the company of the other bridesmaids would perhaps detract from the overall experience. So it was what it was.

The door man walked me to the front desk where I shyly greeted the shrewd desk clerk. “Hi, I should have a reservation under LeBlanc.” I spelled it and his rather illustrious eyebrows lifted. “Tu parle francaise?” The man asked.

I smiled a little and shook my head, “Non, je ne parle pas francais, je parle l’anglais.”  

“But it is a French name yes?” He pressed, and I responded in the affirmative. Seeming in better spirits he motioned to a man standing to my left in some kind of negotiation with another clerk. “It seems you two are here for the same event, do you know each other?”

I looked again at the man, he had dark brown hair and a five o’clock shadow covering his strong jaw line. He fit in here, dressed in his well cut European suit and perfectly coiffed hair. Returning my focus to the clerk and straightening my posture, I responded, “Nope, never met him.”

“I think you stole my room,” the gentleman interjected in what I was surprised to hear was an American accent.

I raised an eyebrow in his direction, “Indeed? I have arrived just now, so I don’t know how that can be possible.”

“No look, I think Liz switched the name on the last available room,” he persisted.

“Well I guess you do know the bride then,” I said, noting his casual use of my friend’s name. I replied, “Why would she do that?”

“Look I don’t know, but Joe said there was a room waiting for me here and that was a few days ago.”

I pulled out my phone, planning on giving the bride and groom a call to get this sorted out when the big white numbers on the screen reminded me that it was 3 AM. Sighing, I looked at the clerk, “Are there any more vacant rooms?”

“No madame,” he responded, his voice pinched again like when I first arrived, “that was how we first developed this misunderstanding.”

“I guess that makes sense.” I looked again at the gentleman, “Can you prove you know Liz and Joe?” He reached in to his inside jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. He swiped around till he found what he wanted and handed it to me.

“That was two years ago in Prague, we worked a movie together.” My eye swept the screen, finally making out the face of the man that stood before me in a cluster of several other people dressed in period clothing. “Also, Joe is allergic to shellfish, which he learned while in Hawaii only after eating an entire shrimp and pineapple pizza.” I laughed, anyone who knew Joe had heard that story.

“Well, you can bunk in my room tonight if you are desperate, then we can get this all settled at a decent hour tomorrow.” I wiggled my room card at him.

“I don’t wan’t to impose,” he said, suddenly looking concerned.

“Look, you already have. All I want is a hot shower and a few hours of sleep, and this compromise is now the quickest way to getting that.”

Maintaining eye contact with me he worried his lower lip, “okay, I guess.”

So we made our way to the elevator. “And I do really appreciate it,” he said as the elevator started going up, “I hope I wasn’t too rude, I just always have really bad luck in Italy.”

“Well let’s hope this trip breaks the cycle, cause I don’t know that I will get another shot at a Tuscany vacation.” I said stepping out of the elevator and into the hallway, locating our door by the small pile of bags that were waiting for us.

I handed him the key as I gathered my things. “Um, I think we made a very American mistake,” came a voice from inside the room.”

“Huh?” I said confusedly, groaning as I came to stand next to him. The room only had one bed.

…

A string of profanity ambled out of my mouth as I stripped in the bathroom. I had insisted that I didn’t need to be put up in such a nice hotel, especially if Liz was paying for me, but no, she wanted me to be with the rest of the wedding party, she wanted me to get along with her fancy Hollywood friends. So here I was in a swanky ass hotel with a strange man that I had, in my fatigue and delirium, decided to trust.

After several minutes of letting the hot water loosen my back and shoulders I climbed out of the shower and slipped into a pair of leggings and a tank top. “It’s all yours,” I said as I traipsed past the much too small bed on which the stranger was lounging.

“Hey, whats your name?” He asked and I stopped, realizing I hadn’t even thought to ask him his God damned name.

“Michelle,” I said, holding my hand out to him. He grasped it firmly and shook.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Sebastian.”

I fell into a fitful rest quickly after laying down and I didn’t wake up till the sun began to enter the room through the gorgeous doors that let out onto the little balcony. I took a deep breath, finally taking in the fact that I was in Tuscany, for a glamorous wedding, and I didn’t have to pay for any of it. Then I flexed my arms, realizing too late that what I had thought was a pillow last night was actually the hulking form of a man. Shit what did he say his name was? Sebastian. I pulled my arm away from him quickly but the damage was done.

“Morning,” he groaned, sitting up. I replied with a wave of my hand, too embarrassed to speak, hiding my head back in the sheets. I felt the mattress move as he slid off the edge and bustled around the room and then let himself out. Now that the coast was clear I sat up and rubbed my eyes, forcing myself to wake up.  I pulled my hair up into a quick bun then looked around me for my phone. I had sent Liz a string of panicked texts last night about the room situation that she hadn’t replied to till this morning.

Sorry about the confusion. No, Sebastian isn’t a serial killer. Welcome to Tuscany! Meet us in the lobby at 10.

I glanced at the time. It was barely seven. I cursed jet lag as I marched into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I heard the door open while I was in the bathroom and stuck my head out.

Sebastian had returned with a porter, who placed a matching pair of brown leather suitcases in the closet (I guess all of Sebastian’s luggage hadn’t made it here last night)  and then returned wheeling in a cart full of food. My nose perked at the smell of coffee and I hoped he was planning on sharing.

“So Liz finally confirmed that you aren’t a serial killer,” I said, leaning against a wall.

He smiled at me, “Oh, good. Well I just spoke to Joe, he told me the same about you.” I nodded, smiling now. “I got a little worried last night when you had me in a death grip,” he said, winking at me.

I cleared my throat and looked at the ceiling, “yea I’m a hard sleeper, I cannot account for the actions of my subconscious.”  My gaze drifted to the cart with the heavenly smells of coffee wafting from it.

“Compliments of the bride and groom, for the mix up, I think we got in the way of some kind of argument they were having,” Sebastian said, handing me a white mug with cappuccino foam peaking over the brim.

…

It was two days before the wedding and I was beginning to think I should have delayed even longer. Liz had sent me instructions for both Seb and I to “dress casual” for the day which would be mostly wandering town. What I forgot was that casual meant something very different to a common working woman like myself than to the other rich Hollywood people I had to deal with on this trip. After greeting my friend finally and listening to her reassure me that I was not under dressed in my plain dark wash jeans and chunky sweater, I skulked to the back of the group taking in the dozen or so perfectly sculpted bodies adorned with designer heels, leisure jackets and other decidedly not casual ensembles. I had not seen my roommate come down to the lobby but as we headed out I noticed that he was wearing a very modest ensemble of black jeans, polished shoes and a blue denim jacket over a plain green shirt. I tipped my hat to him silently, either he was a normal like me or he was down to earth, either way I was glad to have gotten stuck with him rather than any of the others.

In the town of Sienna I lagged back, finding the group too noisy and attention grabbing. One of the tall skinny women in our party turned and waved at me, beckoning me closer. I took a few long strides to catch up with them.

“Your Liz’s friend that came in last night right?” She asked.

“Yep,” I replied.

“OMG, so your sharing a room with Sebastian then!”

Raising my eyebrows I replied again, “yep.”

“Well, whats he like?”

“Um, I don’t really know, I slept most of the time we were together, I assume he did too,” I offered in a confused tone. Who was this guy?

“But isn’t he so hot?” The woman asked.

“Well I was mostly concerned that he was a murderer when I first met him, I mean, he wasn’t happy and then I wasn’t actually sure he actually was with the wedding party.”

“But you knew who he was, so what did it matter if he was in the wedding party?”

Utterly confused I said, “Wait, who is he? Why should I know him?”

The woman giggled, “Sebastian Stan? He’s an actor in the Avengers franchise? He’s got a huge fan base and is notoriously private.

Okay so I didn’t really know much about those films but I was intrigued now and despite my greatest efforts to pay him no more mind than I had been, I noticed him more the rest of the day. Many of the women in our group would find reasons to stand next to him, they would grab his arm and laugh, or touch his chest. Interestingly, as the afternoon slipped into evening, he seemed to grow visibly agitated with all of the attention. By dinner time he looked like he was barely holding his polite facade together.

We were scheduled to all eat together at a very nice restaurant, however there was some conversation amongst Liz and Joe and our guides and they made a last minute call to eat separately. I was confused by this, the whole trip having felt micro managed up to this point, but I was glad to get away from the group that I felt so apart from and I took off rather than wait around for an explanation. There was a lovely outdoor patio bar down the street from where we were staying, so I leisurely walked that way.

The air was comfortably cool and I tilted my head back to breathe in the smells of the sleepy town as I sipped my wine. This was the kind of night I would have loved to enjoy with Lizzy, but that was before the days when she was famous.

“You must be American,” a voice behind me said. I turned to see two young Italian men standing behind me. As if that was an invitation to join me, they moved to sit in the vacant chairs on either side of me. “So what are you doing in our town?” One of them asked me in a thick accent and placed a hand on my knee, I shivered at how freely he touched me. I crossed my legs, shrugging his hand off of me. They both looked at ease and there were other people around us so it seemed generally safe, but I didn’t feel like doing this tonight. I slid my chair back, stood and walked to the far side of the bar, out of their line of vision. If they followed me I knew I would just have to leave so I steadied myself for that possibility.

It seemed at first like they had lost interest, but about ten minutes later I heard their laughter moving in my direction. But before I decided how to react I felt a warm hand settle on my lower back. “Hey, don’t freak out, It’s just me.” I looked up at the voice speaking into my ear and saw the grey blue eyes of my roommate. “There are two guys that have been staring at you from across the room, I wanted to make sure you knew that.” I nodded at him in thanks. But the men’s voices drew closer still so I turned to face Sebastian.

“Flirt with me,” I said to him.

“What?”

“They have already been bothering me,” I replied trying to keep my eyes on Sebastian and not give the men any reason to come closer. He nodded and moved closer to me so that we were sharing the same space. He kept his hand on my back and the other one combed through my hair. He touched his forehead to mine and laughed. After a second he drew away just enough to look up, scanning the bar for the two men.

I’m gonna kiss you okay?” He said. I gulped and nodded, after I had agreed, he drew my face up to his and very gently touched his lips to mine, leaving them there for a few seconds then breaking away from me. “They’re leaving,” he said and I sighed, though I honestly wasn’t sure if it was in relief or in reaction to the kiss.

…

I sat against the headboard of the bed, my hair drying from the shower and I flipped through the Italian television channels, trying to ignore how strangely domestic it felt to be sharing a hotel room with this person. A man who was apparently a very well known movie star who had recently helped me out of a sticky situation by kissing me. I held a cup of tea in my hands. I was bringing it to my lips when Sebastian emerged from the bathroom a napkin of a towel wrapped around his waist. My hands trembled just enough at the sight of his sculpted torso to spill hot tea all over my lap.

“Fuck,” I said as I stood, pulling the now damp fabric of my leggings away from my skin.

“You okay?” He asked, looking up from rummaging in his bag.

“I’m fine,” I shot back at him, “just put some goddamn pants on,” I muttered. He laughed and I squeezed my eyes shut, “I guess he had heard that,” I thought to myself. He straightened with a wad of clothes triumphantly held aloft then retreated to the bathroom again to change.

“By the way,” I said when he finally came back out, “thanks for the assist there in the bar.”

He winked at me, “Well I’m sure you’d do the same for me,” he said.

“But I haven’t,” I replied, “I have been watching women throw themselves at you all day and I did nothing to save you, “so really, what you did was an unselfish act.”

He walked to his side of the mattress that never felt so small and threw himself down, making the whole frame shake. “Yea, well none of them looked as hostile as those two men.” He shifted so that he was laying on his back distractedly watching the Italian soap opera that I had found. Soon he was breathing steadily with just a very light snore. I smiled and looked down at him. He really was very nice looking. He had well defined features, long eyelashes and full lips. I caught myself biting one of my own lips and rolled my eyes. Deciding that looking at him like this was creepy I switched the tv off and turned the light off, easing down into the sheets.

I was just on the verge of unconsciousness when I felt Sebastian’s arm wrap around my stomach and pull me into him. His body was relaxed but still solid. I hadn’t realized how big he was. I thought for a moment that I should release myself, that it was the right thing to do, but he wouldn’t know I was awake. Maybe I shouldn’t disturb him? He shifted again this time nuzzling his  scratchy chin into the back of my neck, and if I wasn’t mistaken, his lips were pressed up against the back of my ear. Now throughly enjoying his contact I relaxed into him, laying my arm on top of his.

…

Sebastian’s alarm went off at seven the next morning, the day before the ceremony being filled with activities. I groaned at the shrill sound and was startled to realize my voice was muffled by something I was laying on. I moved my head around, trying to get my bearings without opening my eyes yet. It couldn’t be a pillow, it smelled too good and was too solid.

“Morning,” the thing under me said. I stiffened. Apparently I had managed to fully lay the length of my body on top of Sebastian in the course of the night. He was still on his back and his hands were resting on my bottom, my head was nestled into the crook of his neck and my hands were splayed over his chest. Instead of being embarrassed, I found that I really was just comfortable.

“Do we really have to get up?” I whined into his chest.

I felt his rumbling laugh, “Well I don’t really wanna face the wrath of Lizzy if we don’t show up on time,” he said.

“I thought you were my protector?” I said. He patted my bottom a few times and tried to shift me off of him but I wouldn’t budge.

“I’ll bring you up a cappuccino if you let me get up,” he said. With one more groan fit for the stage I let him roll out from under me. He stood over me for a second and I looked up at him with a mock hurt look on my face. And then before I had time to think, he leaned over me, one hand on either side of me and gently brought his lips to mine.

It was brief but lovely.

“I’ll be back,” he whispered in my ear before turning and leaving the room.

Now fully awake I wandered about the room, unsure of what to do with myself. I pulled out of my suitcase the outfit I was planning on wearing today. The “rehearsal dinner” was more of a rehearsal excursion to the countryside complete with a quartet to play classical Italian music and a wait staff serving Prosecco all day. Lizzy had said to wear “cocktail casual” but I had no idea what the hell that meant. I had settled on a dark burgundy romper. The neckline was a low v and the straps criss-crossed in the back. I laid it out on the bed and was still assessing it when Sebastian returned, a tray of coffee in his hands. Intoxicated by the smell I lifted one of the steaming cups off of the tray and retreated to the small balcony. The morning was cool and the view overlooked the mediterranean rooftops of the little town. I breathed deeply the crisp air and the fragrant coffee.

Sensing his presence behind me I spoke up, “I never would have imagined that visiting a place this beautiful would be such a headache.”

He came to stand next to me. Leaning forward so that his arms rested on the edge of the balcony, the entire side of his body made contact with mine. The heat radiating from him was soothing.

“It is beautiful here,” he said, looking at me, not the view. “Why is this trip so hard for you?”

I sighed, “I guess it’s not. I’m just being dramatic. I knew Liz way before she was famous. She and I had always talked about coming to Italy, about hiking and living close to nature. And this- this trip just shows how we have changed, thats all,” I said giving up. “And I hate all of her new friends.”

Sebastian laughed, “Well I’m gland that I’m Joe’s friend then.” I turned my head to look at him and he winked. Then he straightened up and pulled me into him, “is this okay?” He asked into my ear. I nodded silently, my stomach churning. “Well I think all her friends are jealous of you,” he continued to whisper in my ear, “know why?” I shook my head smiling a little as his words tickled my ear, “because they all want the natural grace and beauty that you have.”  

I moved to face him, his large muscled body trapping me against the balcony rail. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers tangling in his hair. He lowered his mouth to my neck as he pulled me closer to him. “Do you promise to come save me today if all those women don’t leave me alone?” He asked into my neck.

I squirmed at the sensation of his breath on me. “Of course Boo,” I said, patting his bottom in a playfully condescending voice.

He raised an eyebrow, “I think I like being your Boo,” he said moving from my neck to my lips, biting my lower lip playfully.

“Yea?” I replied.

“Mmmh,” was all he said.  

“Then as my Boo would you please explain to me what the hell ‘cocktail casual’ means?”

…

After a bit of debate, Sebastian had convinced me that my choice of attire was perfect and he just so happened to have a shirt that matched my outfit, so we arrived in the lobby in plenty of time to meet the rest of the group. Unsurprisingly, I did stand out, most of the women wearing very short dresses and tottering on stilettos, however, when I considered that the alternative was having to wear a short skirt and heels all day, I decided I was happy with my ensemble.

We were ushered into a small bus that would drive us out into the countryside. The inside was nice, but Italians have a very different sense of space than Americans, as demonstrated by the very small seats. Because I had dressed for comfort, I was better able to maneuver my way to the back seat, so I found myself wedged into the very back corner of the van seated next to one of the men in the party who was a talent manager or something and wouldn’t shut up about all the famous people he worked with.

On top of that Sebastian was two rows in front of me, surrounded by needy looking women who were sitting too close to him and thrusting their scantily covered chests towards him.

Finally the bus stopped at a sprawling villa on the side of a mountain. I was antsy to get out both because of the view and because I was quite nauseous after all of the switchbacks we took to get up here.

The day was average, there were some speeches, a few games, lunch, and then drinks. During all of this I had noticed several footpaths that led into the surrounding countryside. As the group broke up into social clusters I slipped away, making a b-line towards a path that I was hoping would take me along the crest of the mountain to reveal more lovely views.

“Wait Michelle!” A voice called from behind me. I turned to see Sebastian scampering behind me, his jacket discarded and a few buttons undone on his shirt. Catching up to me he stopped, “may I join you?”

We followed the overgrown trail for several minutes, finally the brush gave way to a beautiful bald overlooking a valley that reflected gold and red in the low afternoon sun. I turned to Sebastian and found him looking at me. “What?” I asked.

“I want to kiss you,” he said simply. So I closed the gap between us and my lips met his hungrily. We pressed against each other desperately like we couldn’t get close enough to each other. Our breathing grew heavy and I got the sense that we were both wearing too many clothes, so with all my strength I pulled away from him. He let out a little whine and showed me his puppy dog eyes.

“I think we need to cool off a bit,” I said shakily. “If I take this thing off now then it’s not going back on,” I said gesturing to my romper. Sebastian nodded in defeat and took my hand as we walked back to the group.

…

As the afternoon turned to evening other guests of the the bride and groom arrived and the sweetness of the afternoon faded as my world went on repeat. I watched one woman after another try her luck with the dashing Sebastian Stan while I kept to myself, drinking alone. I wasn’t upset at Sebastian, I wasn’t really sure what to do with our short dalliance, was it just born out of convenience? Is it just something to pass the time on this miserable trip? No, what bothered me was watching the entitlement in the way these women acted. They knew they were beautiful or young or well connected and so they approached with confidence, but had very little to contribute to the conversation, literally “what you see is what you get.”

“Ah,” came a voice from over my shoulder, “you are the friend from Louisiana right? The one who Lizzy grew up with?” I turned to see a nice looking young man in a dark suit standing behind me.

“Who’s asking?” I said.

“Hi, I’m Dan, I’m a friend of Lizzy from LA.” He held out his hand, I took it, and in stepping closer I also noticed the alcohol on his breath and the slight waver in his voice. It had been a while since he was sober.

“Nice to meet you, Dan,” I said. He leaned into me slightly, as if he couldn’t keep his feet under him.

“Hey, do you wanna dance? Lizzy said you are a good da-dancer?” He said, hiccuping.

“Maybe in a bit, big guy,” I said, motioning to a waiter for a bottle of water.

“No, you look like you are here for- for a good time. Lets take this back to- back to my place.” He was too drunk to be intimidating but he was quite tall and I found it difficult to shift his weight away from me. Indeed he was very close to toppling over and taking me with him when suddenly his weight was no longer draped over me. Getting my bearings I looked behind me to see Sebastian helping, if a little roughly, to get Dan into a chair.

I didn’t think much of it, but I was surprised Sebastian had gotten to me so quickly. When some other guys came over to take care of the very sloppy and probably soon to be puking Dan, I turned my attention to Seb. He had moved to stand next to me and wound his arm around my waist protectively. “Thanks for the assist,” I said lightly. To my surprise, Sebastian didn’t think it was funny.

“Why don’t those kind of guys ever know when to stop?” He growled, his hand still firmly at my waist.

I turned to face him. “Hey, I appreciate the Feminist outrage, but I was okay, I didn’t feel intimidated by him like the guys in the bar yesterday.” I put a hand on his chest, waiting for him to slow his breathing. Finally he looked down at me.

“I think I was just jealous of your attention,” he said sheepishly.

“Well why the hell didn’t you come over here sooner, I’ve had to watch women fawn over you all evening,” I said with a little pout.

“But I thought you were gonna come save me.”

“I don’t compete with other women!” I said in a whispered yell, turning my back to him. I avoided him, embarrassed and feeling a little too tender after such a long day. Gently he twisted me back to face him. I didn’t resist, I did want to be with him here, but I couldn’t look him in the eye. Carefully, and slowly he tilted my head up till I held his gaze, then he brushed his lips against mine, holding them there just long enough for chills to run down my body and my breathing to quicken before pulling away. I moaned in frustration.

“You aren’t competing with anyone.” With that taste of drama that actors tend to have naturally, he pulled me into the light, closer to the music, and we danced. It was sensuous and romantic. We stayed close together, his nose buried in the side of my neck, my head laying on his chest as we moved in a slow circle. His hands would stray low sometimes, but I would pull them back up so they rested on my hips, and he would chuckle each time.

As the event wrapped up, we walked back to the vehicles together. And as if we had passed some invisible test, everyone left us alone, letting us sit together and talking around us.

Back at the hotel I paused to chat with Liz while Sebastian helped Joe out with something for the ceremony the next day. “OMG, I knew you two would be good together!” Liz gushed.

“Wait, did you do the room thing on purpose?” I asked.

She looked up at the ceiling, “I will not reveal my tricks, but just know that if you two are still together in a year I am so claiming that I set you up.” I rolled my eyes.

I made my way back to our room but was stopped by one of the pretty blonde women in the wedding party. “You are Lizzie’s friend from back home right?” She asked in a valley girl accent I thought had to be a joke. Thinking she had some scheme about the wedding tomorrow, I told her that, yes, I was her childhood friend. “Then what the hell do you think you are doing flirting with someone like Sebastian Stan?” She demanded, serious outrage in her face. I was startled, not expecting this little outburst.

I looked her over again, her makeup was looking a little fuzzy and I could smell vodka on her breath as she teetered on stilettos and pulled her dress down each time it slipped a little too high up her thighs. Before I could respond she continued, “I mean, look at you. You are at least a size ten, no make up, you are wearing flats for Christ sakes.” She gasped like it was the end of the world. “You have no idea the women who are interested in him. Models, actresses, I heard one of the Kardashians even made a pass at him. This is the big leagues little girl. You need to stay in your lane.” In parting she gave me a little push that I thought was more likely to have her on the floor than me.

I laughed uncomfortably as I made it back to the room. Sebastian was there, sprawled on the bed, his torso bare, a pair of navy joggers seated low on his waist. He looked like a snack. And all of a sudden I could only hear the words of that woman. I must have stood there too long cause Seb spoke up. “What did Liz do? Did she change something at the last minute? You look really distracted.”

“Oh,” I said, “Nothing, she didn’t change anything.” I turned away from him and reached behind my back to undo the top of my romper. Sebastian’s hands grasped mine and put them to my sides as he undid the ties, his fingers lingering on my skin. “Sebastian is this just for tonight?” I asked, biting my lip after the words left my mouth.

“Uh, I guess it can be, why?” He replied, his tone measured. I continued to stand with my back to him, needing the space to say this.

“I- I just don’t know how this would work with you being so mobile. I don’t want you to feel like this has to go beyond this trip.” I cut myself off, feeling like I was whining.

“Actually, I am kinda interested in making this work for a longer time. Where are you from? Louisiana? The long distance thing might be a challenge but I’d like to give it a go.” I gulped loudly, my arms and legs felt weak.

“Are- are you sure?” I pressed, feeling like I was in a dream.

“Have I overstepped?” He responded with a concerned look on his face. I shook my head fiercely.

“No, but why me? All those women who are prettier than me, they get the world you come from, you have so many options.”

I had moved away from him now, feeling exposed as I spoke, but he closed the gap between us. Pulling me into him, he gripped me tightly, protectively.

“I don’t want anyone else. You are intelligent, confident, beautiful. No one else has those things.”

I sank into him and felt a sob escape from my lips. A hand grasped the back of my head and pulled me in tight to his chest. I shook a bit with a few more sobs but he was there with me. When I had calmed down I reached up and kissed him on the jaw.

Stepping away from me, he pulled a shirt on and I made a disappointed noise. Laughing he said, “Why don’t you change into something more comfortable, and we can go to the bar and make people jealous.” Rolling my eyes, I smiled.

…

As we approached the bar Sebastian grasped my hand and intertwined our fingers. There was a small group from the wedding party that was gathered at one end of the bar. One of the guys called us over so we joined them, greeting everyone in the group.  There was one available seat so I took it, Sebastian stood behind me and his hands lingered on my waist and hips. They were meeting to discuss a few last minute requests of the bride and groom, so I listened as attentively as I could with Sebastian’s warm breath tickling the back of my neck. The skinny woman who had trapped me in the hall earlier was staring daggers into us, but I just looked past her to the conversation happening.

After a few more minutes the conversation broke up. I noticed a few men pat Seb on the back as they left, our friend the skinny woman tottered off in a huff. I felt Sebastian shake a little as he chuckled. “That was more fun than I was expecting,” he said.

“Yea whatever, can we pleas go back to the room? It’s time for you to take your shirt off again.”

…

When we got to the room we both stripped to our underwear. We tumbled into the bed together, the playfulness of moments before leaving us quickly as we both let the exhaustion of the day settle in. Instead, we nestled into each other comfortable just to be with one another. I was laying on my back, Seb’s head resting on my chest. He clung to me, arms and legs wrapped tightly around me and thats when I realized we might actually have as shot.

…

It had been a month since the wedding. I sat nervously in the airport gripping my phone and my eyes glued to the arrivals screen above me. Finally I saw the word “arrived” appear in green next to his flight and soon after my phone pinged and it was a text from him saying he was on his way to baggage claim.

And then there he was.

In a tight t-shirt and joggers, his long legs brought him to me in a few quick strides. I brought him in close to me and squeezed him tight. “It’s been too long,” he said.

[childofhalloween]

A Story With No Name Aka Why You Don't Ask Idoits for Dating Advice

So this was a short little one shot I got an idea for after binging Graystillplays Sims videos for days. If the formatting or anything seems off it's because I wrote it all on a phone. Well this short one shot turned out 9 pages long opps. So I hope you enjoy. Also writing an Austrillis slow burn not really sure where it goes but if anyone is interested let me know. Anyways onto the show! Thomas Alan Wenis better known as Tommy looked down at the paper in his hand. This address had to be a mistake. He had just flown down to Florida to get away for a while, see the ocean, maybe even clear up his depression. He hadn't brought much with him just an old suitcase and what little money he drained from his savings account.

That was exactly what attracted him to the random message board offering low rent living. With the price of rent all Tommy was expecting was a cot in a closet somewhere. Not that he minded as long as he had a roof and somewhere to put his black boots he didn't care.

But this, this wasn't right. Couldn't be right. The place was huge. Probably the biggest house he had ever seen. 4 floors are least and he could see the corner a large pool in the back.

He checked the address of his contact Melvin, and it matched. This had to be some sort of scheme. He knew it was too good to be true, like everything else in his life.

With a sigh he picked up his bag walking to the front door. Maybe they would be able to at least point him in the right direction.

Ringing the bell he sat out on the front step for a moment before the large oak door opened and a man dressed only in a towel and some sneakers opened the door.

"Uhhh hi. I'm sorry to disturb you but I am looking for someone at this address. His name is Melvin." Tommy said avoiding eye contact with the red haired man.

"Yeah that's me! Melvin Eugene Johnston. But everyone just calls me Florida Man." He said holding out his hand Tommy awkwardly taking it. "You must be Tommy!"

"Uhhh yeah. I'm sorry did I come at a bad time?" He said motioning to the towel.

"Huh this? Nah. Just like to feel a cool breeze if you know what I mean." He joked opening the door motioning for him to come in.

The place was almost too much for Tommy to take in but nonetheless followed Florida Man on a tour around the house.

"I uhhh….I hate to say I think I miss understood about the price." Tommy said knowing their was no way he could ever afford a place like this.

"Oh don't stress about it. Just get me the $300 whenever. Everyone here is pretty cool. We all just pitch in when we can ya know? We all take turns cleaning and cooking….well except for Aussie. Fire department said they are gonna fine us for another kitchen fire." He said casually. Tommy couldn't help but wonder what he was getting into.

"Then toss in some cash for some beers or food when ya can. Everyone just kind of does their own thing. You will see all kinds of people come and go. Right now we got a lot of our 'lifers'."

"How can you afford this place?" Tommy said looking at another large staircase.

"Oh it's already paid for. I bought it with the money from my lawsuit with Madonna."

"You sued Madonna!?!" Tommy said, not believing what he was hearing.

“Oh yeah I did. Her show was supposed to start at 8 she didn't go on till 10. I wasted so much money on overpriced water down beer I don't even remember the damn thing. Next thing I know I'm in the hospital. Apparently I fell down 12 rows of concrete stairs trying to get some nachos from concessions." He said casually as he continued. "Then I used the money I won to buy this place but it got lonely & quiet by myself so I started renting out rooms. Made for one big odd family."

Opening a door he motioned to Tommy "So here's your room. Get comfortable. When you're done feel free to head on down to the kitchen, meet everyone."

Tommy had hoped he could even find his way back down to the kitchen. It was going to take a little while to get used to this place. He still couldn't wrap his mind around all of this.

But unbeknownst to him the craziest part was yet to come. His new roommates.

Finally finding the kitchen he saw Floridaman busy having a beer next to a tall man with the most epic red beard he'd ever seen and a smaller but seemingly louder blond wearing sunglasses. And behind them both a slightly deranged looking man with jet black hair.

They all seemed to get quiet as he walked awkwardly into the kitchen.

"I was wondering if you were going to find us." Florida Man said thrusting a Bud Lite in Tommy's hand not bothering to ask if he'd want one. "Boys this is our newest guest Tommy Wenis"

The blond let out an almost mocking laugh.

"Wenis!?! Ya gotta be bloody kiddin me. Bet that must have been a rough primary career. The names are just endless!"

"Don't listen to him, he can be a jerk but he doesn't really mean it." The redhead said standing up holding out his hand cordially. "Names Tim by the way."

"Ahhh I'm just taking the piss with ya mate...kinda. Name's Trevor but everyone here likes to call me Australian Man. Ya know obvious reasons."

Finally the dark hair man with the slightly odd shaped face spoke up. "And I'm Colono. Colono Scopy"

"Uh huh...so is this everyone who lives here?" Tommy said looking at the motley crew in front of him.

"No the girls are off doing something or another. I think they mentioned girls day. I don't know I wasn't listening." Florida Man said, looking at the clock on the stove. "But they should be back any minute."

As if on cue the door opened and the sound of over lapped talking was heard.

"Speak of the devil mate." Australian Man said slightly in awe of Florida Man's timing.

A brunette wearing what looked to be a thrift store tourist shirt walked into the kitchen.

"Hey Whitley come here meet our new roommate Tommy." Florida Man said.

"Hey I'm Whitley " she shook his hand. He couldn't help but notice the slight smell of cheap bottom shelf vodka radiating off her.

Next a woman walked in with the best blond afro Tommy had ever seen.

"Hey Bab this is our new roommate Tom-"

"Maybe he'll last longer then the others." Bab said almost miserably as she walked out the back door not stopping.

"Sorry she's kin-d of…." Florida Man tried to think of the word.

"Manic Depressive." The girl with blonde and pink braids said matter of factly. "Text book diagnosis really."

"Are you a Dr?" Tommy asked everyone just laughed.

"Not in the slightest. Just been through a lot of psychologists."

"Ellis Dee, meet Tommy." Florida Man introduced.

"Tommy Wenis." Australian Man said with a snicker.

"Oh my God do people call you Tiny Wenis?" Ellis said with a giggle.

It didn't matter though because all Tommy's attention was now focused on the tall blond with golden hair walking in. He had never seen anyone like her. She was like nothing he'd ever encountered. She was…..she was…..she was absolutely stunning.

"Whose that?" Tommy asked Tim quietly.

"Huh? Oh that's Beth. Be nice, she's a sweet girl." Tim whispered back.

"Hey Beth say hi to Tommy the new guy." Florida said.

"Hi name's Beth." She introduced herself in a thick Southern accent.

"I….uhh...I'm Tommy." Tommy managed to mumble out.

All the guys exchanged an odd look.

"So where are ya rollin in from?" She asked with a smile.

"....I uhhh… I come from….places. I gotta go." He said, scrambling out of the kitchen to his room.

"That was odd." Colono said all the others nodded.

As the months went on Tommy found he had more in common with this rag tag bunch then he ever had with anyone else. He spent his days joking with Colono, drinking beers with the Florida Man & Australian Man, discussing art with Bab Ross, hitting the occasional bong with Ellis Dee, and pretty much bonding with everyone.

Everyone that is except for Beth. It seemed like every time they had a moment together his mind just blanked. Like it shut down to nothing and he couldn't figure out what the hell to say so he would say something awkward and just excuse himself.

It became apparent to everyone what was going on, everyone that was except Beth as she walked into the living room one day.

"Mind if I sat by ya hun?" She asked. He looked up at her eyes wide.

"I….uhh….murder show…..its over…..here you go. For you." He said, tossing the remote at her feet before running out the room.

"Ouch that was painful to watch." Australian Man looked up from the card game the guys had been playing.

Tommy pulled out a chair and plopped down not responding.

"Hey man, it's0 ok you will get her next time." Florid Man said putting a hand on his shoulder sympathetically….well really trying to sneak a peek at Colono's cards

"Ughhh. It's like everytime I try to talk to her I look like a total ass." Tommy grumbled.

"Yah we know, we all seen it." Australian Man joked as threw another chip in the pot.

"Well what am I supposed to say? Hey I think you're gorgeous, will you have a coffee with me?" He said, causing all the other men to laugh.

"No, no. You're thinking too much into it. What women love to hear is compliments." Tim Horton said as Bab Ross happened to walk past. "Watch this."

"Hello Bab you are looking positively radiant today!" Tim said, putting on a charming smile.

"Whatever you say Tim." Bab said with a shrug as she kept walking.

This caused all the other men to crack up.

"Laugh all you want but she acknowledged me. That's progress."

"Nah ya got it all wrong mate. What birds really dig on is a badass." Australian Man said getting up walking to the back yard. "This is how it's done boys."

Strutting slightly he slid up to Ellis Dee who was sitting outside enjoying the sun.

"Hey Ellie." He said acting casual.

"Oh hey Aussie what's up?"

"Did I ever tell you about the time I fought off a whole colony of bog frogs?"

"No I don't think you have."

"Yeah I was out with some blokes and came across these wee little bog frogs must have been mating season or something because next thing I know I'm surrounded by the little wankers! So I start beating them off me. Kicking, punching them in their little frog faces. Just throwing them off left and right. Turns out the little bastards were poisonous. Woke up in the hospital 2 weeks later handcuffed to the hospital bed. Turns out those little piss frogs are on the 'endangered species' list. Luckily for me though the judge granted the coma as time served. All I got was probation and I'll be off that by next year." Australian Man said cooly before something hit him.

"Probation…..OH SHIT! My probation meeting!" He said looking down at his watch. "I'm 6 fucking months late! I can not be arrested again! FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!" he said running into the house leaving behind a very confused Ellis Dee.

All the guys watched as Australian Man ran through the house screaming obscenities as he looked for his cell phone.

"Anyways….what about you Florida Man. How do you talk to the ladies?" Tim Horton asked.

Florida Man shrugged and got up walking to the kitchen to see Whitley at the table drinking a large glass of orange juice.

"Bud Lite?" Florida Man offered holding out a beer. She looked at him confused.

"Its only 11 not even noon. Too early for beer." she said.

"Ok." Florida Man said walking back with both beers.

"Mornings are for screwdrivers." Whitley said to herself pour more dollar vodka into her drink.

"No, no I am sure I called. Yeah right when I landed. No I made sure I message with a Shelly? Or maybe a Jan? Or was it a Steven? I'm not sure. Mighta been a new?.....oh maybe a temp! Bloody hard to find good help huh? I'm sure it's there just check the last few months. Ring when this is all cleared up." Australian Man said, hanging up his phone not waiting for a reply on the other end. "Bloody cunts..….so what'd I miss."

"That's it. That's the only move I got." Florida Man said with a shrug.

"You guys are hopeless. No wonder I'm the only one in a relationship." Colono complained before turning to Tommy. "Tommy don't listen to them they are all going to die alone."

"Hey!"

"Fuck ya too!

"That was rude….but true."

"Women, they love romance. You can sweep a woman off her feet just by words. Just watch my example gentlemen." Colono said as he sauntered out the door to Flo Cane who was watching tv.

"Oh there she is mi amor. I was looking everywhere for you." He said sliding next to her.

"What is it? On no! Are you having issues again? Is the burning back? Have you been taking your meds? Do I need to call the Dr for you again?"

"What!?! No! That's not it!" Colono said in a panic as the sound of laughter came from around the corner.

"Hey don't listen to them. You know stress makes it worse." Flo comforted.

"It's not that!" Colono said frustrated.

"Are you sure? I know how cranky you get when you forget to take your meds."

"I'm not cranky!" Colono yelled as he stormed off.

"I'm making you an appointment just to be sure! I know you are scared of making phone calls." She shouted after him as he stormed off.

The other guys were currently in a huge pile on the floor in total hysterics none of them were able to stand. It took almost 10mins for them to calm down to breathe.

Finally collecting himself Tommy stood up straightening out his clothes. After all that advice he had finally figured it out. He knew what he had to do. Mustering up all the courage he could he moved forward before he could chicken out.

"Where are you going?" Florida Man asked as Tommy made his way outside.

"I'm going to do what I need to." He said walking out into the back yard where the girls currently huddled together talking about how weird the morning had been.

"Hello ladies. Can I talk to Beth alone please?" He asked.

Suddenly a lot made sense as they gave each other a knowing look.

"She's all yours." Whitley said with a l knowing smirk.

Silence still overcame the 2 as they sat there totally obvious to the group of 8 peering around the corner.

"What did you want to talk about?" Beth asked looking over slightly confused about what had been going on. From what she heard it's been a very confusing day.

"I…..I…." He took a deep breath before blurting out quickly. "I think you're absolutely gorgeous and would you like to get coffee with me?"

It took Beth a moment to even figure out what he had said and then another for it to really register.

"You, you think I'm pretty?" She said shocked no one had said anything like that before.

"Gorgeous actually." He said his face was burning red. "Look if I offended you, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Yes." She cut him off.

"Huh?"

"I would love to get coffee with you." She said as a big smile crossed her face.

"Ok when?"

"Now?" She suggested.

"Sounds great." He said getting up offering his hand to her. "I know a great place."

They both walked right past the group of the gawkers so invested in their conversation they didn't even seem to notice.

"Oh my God that is the sweetest thing I've ever seen!" Whitley gushed.

"Guys are never that romantic. She's so lucky." Flo said wistfully.

"Man I wish I could find someone who thinks like that." Ellis mused.

"Yeah it was pretty nice." Bab said in her bored Bab tone.

"Are ya fucking kidding me right now!?!" Australian said, throwing his hands up in the air as he stormed back inside.

"Seriously? That? That's it? Thats romantic?" Colono complained following behind.

"Wow guy did have some skills after all." Florida said patting Tim on the back sympathetically as Tim mumbled to himself annoyed.

"What's their problem?" Bab asked.

"Men are weird." Whitley said all the other girls nodded in agreement.

[heyheydidjaknow]

For anyone who is wondering why I deleted the chapters, I was very tired and forgot what tenses were, so I had to go back and change it all, and that is a pain on Tumbr. Tumblr also, apparently, either has a character or word limit, so this is our first 2 parter. I know I could just separate them into chapters, but I feel weird about making a whole chapter devoted to a date, so.

Edit: Who was gonna tell me I misspelled Casey?

Chapter 6 Pt 1

Leo sighs. “Okay, the fact that this will be the second creepiest stunt you’ve pulled this week says a lot.”

“Relax.” Donatello draws another line. “If she has a map of the foreseeable future and showed it to me, it obviously makes sense that I should answer in kind.”

“But,” Raphael points out, “this is the most desperate thing he’s done this week.”

“Zip it.” He caps his pen, holding his diagram up and walking off to his newly obtained whiteboard. “Besides, it’s not a comprehensive flow chart—attempting to list every possible conversation thread would be futile. It's simply a visual aid to remember the general actions I should take in any given situation.” Although you have been promising to “teach him a thing or two” about plot structure one on one, a part of him thinks it appropriate to make the first move. It appears to be the gallant thing to do, anyhow.

Mikey hops over the table, following one of the paths with his finger. “How come you have a shark on this one?”

“Oh,” he nods, “that’s in case she decides to go to the beach and gets attacked by a shark.”

“And why are there these Xs on this one?”

“That signifies the end of one of our lives.”

“And the hearts?”

He blushes. “I’m not answering that.”

Raph shudders. “Man, this just feels gross. I can already feel the secondhand disgust.”

“Raphael,” Donatello sighs, “love is a complex enigma that, if not thoroughly considered and tailored, will crumble before your very eyes. I cannot and will not destroy what little relationship we have by being reckless. Besides,” he scoffs, “in what other possible manner could I ask her out?”

“Hey, Y/N,” Leo offers, “let’s hang out.”

“See, that’s too pedestrian.” He gestures to the poster. “Trust in the—”

You slam through the door. Donnie, apparently panicked, flips the board over with fumbling hands. “H-hey, Y/N. Hey.” He stands up properly, clearing his throat. “Hey.”

You point at him. “How do you feel about busting a corrupt disgrace to the title of scientist?”

“Good!” He peaks at his board, trying to steal himself. “Where are we headed?”

“A neuroscientist by the name of Rockwell got mutated.” You start heading out. “Asshole in question is Victor Falco, AKA Feral Falco, AKA The Rat King if we don’t haul ass. He’s at Rockwell’s lab.”

“Awesome. Let’s go.” He runs after you, shooting a thumbs-up back at his brothers.

You are going to murder a man tonight. Probably. Hopefully not. Depends on how hard it is to wreck his shit. You have been stalking the Channel 6 news for about a week now, waiting for the jackass to show up, and now that he has? You are not about to let him become the monster you knew he could and would become.

“So,” Donnie startles you, lost in thought, “how was your first day of class?”

“It was fine. Met Casey, avoided Irma like the plague, all that jazz.” You turn a right.

“Casey?”

“Casey Jones. Hockey player, real bad at math.”

“A guy?” He seems interested in this subject for some reason.

“Yup.” You reach into your bag, wrapping your fingers around your kitchen knife, hands already shaking. If you must kill him, you will make it quick. “My age.”

“Oh.” He sighs. “That’s… nice.”

‘Can I just take him to the police? I don't have any evidence. This is breaking and entering.’

He clears his throat. “Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“We’re here.”

You look up at the building, sigh. “So we are.”

He moves in front of you, moving to meet you at eye-level. “Is there anything I need to know before we go in?”

You take a deep breath. “The man in the lab coat is the perp. We need to take him down, first and foremost. He may act a fool, but he’s accountable for the mutation of his partner. We either have to incapacitate, convict or, if necessary, kill him.”

He swallows. “This guy is that bad?”

“Not yet.” You start pulling the knife out properly as you push the door open with your clothed arm. “But it’s best to pull a weed out from the root.”

He follows you closely.

You look down at your phone to double-check that this is the offending room. “Here.” You back up, gesturing to the door eccentrically, heart pounding in your chest. “This is the room.”

He approaches you, brow furrowed. “Y/N,” he asks cautiously, “don’t take this the wrong way, but you look sick. Are you alright?”

You nod. “Nervous is all. Haven’t done this sort of thing before.”

He offers a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry.” He gives you a thumbs up. “I’ll be with you every step of the way, alright?”

Your knuckles go white around the grip as you try to release some tension. ‘Don’t choke. That’s his job.’ “Yeah.” You return it. “Oh, are you free tomorrow night? I still have to give you that lesson.”

His face lights up. “Y-yeah! Totally!” He grins eagerly. “Should I go to your place? At what time?”

“We’ll hash out the details on the way back.” You look prominently to the lock. “Now, I take it you have some gadget or gizmo to help us open this bad boy?”

He kneels, pulling a device from the utility belt on his hip and sliding it into the card reader. “Of course.”

The door lets out a harsh buzz, the light turning green. You pull your sleeve forward onto your hand, pushing the door open.

The room smells like metal and mold and decay, a certain lethality hanging in the air when you enter. You stay close to the wall, pulling down a lever to illuminate the harsh laboratory in an even harsher light. And there, caught frozen as he pockets a vial, is Victor Falco.

His eyes flicker towards the door.

You tackle him to the ground, shifting your weight back onto his legs, and pin his arms above his head. “Donnie,” you call, stopping his struggling with a knife pressed against his neck, “would you be so kind as to find a few things for me? I can tell you where they are in the room, but I’m a bit preoccupied.”

“Uh, sure.” His voice sounds strange to you. Tight. Nervous? Confused? You ignore it for now.

“What is the meaning of this,” the scientist bellows from underneath you. “I demand you give me an explanation!”

“Oh be quiet, traitor.” You press the blade against his skin. “We both know the crime you’ve committed against your partner.”

His eyes widen.

You keep your eyes locked on him at all times. “The first thing you’re looking for is a container of mutagen. When you get to the desk, you should see 2 stacks of drawers.”

You do not hear his footsteps. “Mhm.”

“The bottom left drawer has a false bottom. If you pull it up, you’ll find a canister of mutagen.”

You hear the drawer slide open, the shuffling of papers. “Got it.”

“Fantastic. Now, on the desk should be a flash drive belonging to Rockwell. Grab that.”

“How could you possibly know?” You feel his wrist tense as he clenched his fist. “I was so thorough.”

“I’m psychic,” you lie, smiling coldly. “Be happy I met you here and not in your home.”

“Anything else?”

“Whatever is in his pockets, besides car keys and a wallet. You’re getting new chemicals.”

The doctor does not seem to like that idea. He starts writhing underneath you.

“If you don’t stop moving,” you sigh, bringing the knife up and down quickly, hovering over his left eye, “you, a neuroscientist, will have the pleasure of discovering firsthand if what people say about losing your depth perception is true. See, I’ve always heard that it settles, but I’m more than happy to see it happen firsthand if you’ll indulge me.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“You aren’t sure.” You chuckle darkly, fingers wrapping tighter still around his wrists. “I don’t need to be a psychic to feel your shaking.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a green blob crouch down, pulling vials from his pockets.

“You’re a child.”

“And yet I’m the one holding a knife to you.” ‘Why am I so calm?’ “You’re selfish. You’re prideful. You won’t try anything because I know you to be cowardly, and you won’t say anything,” you nod, “because, if you did, you would have to admit to breaking into your missing partner’s lab, and deal with the backlash regarding me and my associate bringing that hard drive to the police and letting them connect the dots.” You smile sweetly. “Donnie, would you be so kind as to get some distance between you and Mr. Falco?” You do not look over at him, focused on the current task. “If he pulls anything, you need to be able to bring that to the police.”

“Got it.” A few seconds pass. “I’m by the door.”

You slide the carving knife in that general direction. “Goodnight, Falco.” You grab his hair, slamming his head against the ground once as you leap to your feet. You grab the knife, sprinting towards the door. “And that is our cue to leave.”

Donatello, who is having interesting feelings about the whole thing, appears to have been snapped out of some sort of trance. He nods, and the both of you exit the scene.

--

You wipe your mouth on your sleeve, shaking as you rest your chin on the edge of the dumpster. “T-thanks,” you smile shakily. “I appreciate it, really.”

“Not at all.” He let your locks fall from his hand. “I imagine it’s hard, what with having hair and all.” He helps you down from your perch on a stack of crates. “Are you feeling alright now?”

“Besides my mouth tasting like stomach acid? Never better.” You sigh, rubbing your face with your hands. “Sorry. The nerves just kinda…” you trail off, cheeks dusted pink. “Well, you get the idea.”

“It’s alright, really.” He smiles fondly. “You were really bold in there. It was really cool.”

“I don’t feel cool. I feel the opposite of cool.” You start down the alleyway. “But at least we stopped a ton of problems in its tracks.”

You hear a primal cry as a large primate lands in front of you.

You look him in the eyes, already tired of this episode. “Good evening, Dr. Rockwell.”

His eyes snap to Donatello, who was already unsheathing his bo staff. You look over your shoulder at him. “Chill out. He’s cool.”

“He’s a giant monkey!”

“Dude, he’s a well-esteemed scientist.” You turn to face him properly, holding his arms out to get some proper separation. “Put the effin stick down.”

“But—” He stops, takes a deep breath, and sheathes the staff. “Alright. I’ll trust you.” He seems almost disturbed by your apparent ease.

You turn back to face him properly, smiling. “Doctor,” you nod, “your partner will be of no concern to you from this point onward. Rest assured; his research has been halted.” Your tone is politely respectful.

The wild eyes of the primate calm. He seems to at least sense the general sentiment. He nods once, leaping up onto the nearest rooftop and disappearing into the night.

You nod in satisfaction, looking back at the stunned Donatello.

“He calmed down so easily.”

“He has a human mind, for the most part.” You shrug, continuing down the alley. “Let’s head back. Man, if you dad knew the kind of trouble I just got him out of.” You giggle at his dumbstruck expression, walking backward to keep facing him. “Well, are you just gonna stand there lookin pretty or are you going to come with?”

His face goes red. He nods once, hurrying after you.

You two walk quietly for a little over a minute. “Hey, uh, can I ask you something?”

“Totally.” You decide to bite the bullet and pull of the manhole cover. “What’s up?”

“Why do you call him that?”

“Call who what?” You start climbing down.

“You know, not call him Master Splinter.” He pulls the cover back on, landing beside you. “You always call him my dad or Yoshi or Mr. Hamato.”

“Well,” you shrug, “he’s your dad, right?”

“I’m not saying it’s a problem,” he clarified, “or that’s it’s incorrect, but most people—myself included—refer to him as Master Splinter.”

You start walking with him. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Donnie,” you sigh, “but, if I can help it, I honestly hope I never have to call him that.”

“Why?” He walks beside you, eyes tracing your figure subtlety.

“Didn’t I already say?” You nod back in the direction you guys came from. “You saw how I acted back there. This is only episode six or seven. The trauma I’d have to go through as a ninja here would kill me,”

“But you have the guts for it.” His voice is certain. “You’re strong enough, mentally, to be a ninja.”

You pause, your throat catching. You wonder if he would still think so if he had seen how you had spent your nights.

He clears his throat, blushing again. “I think you are, anyway.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck silently. You feel him seize up under you. “Thank you,” you mumble.

He slowly relaxes, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. He rests his head on top of yours gently. Slowly, he buries his hand in your hair. He is always so warm— he makes you feel oddly safe. This is only the second time you have been this physically close to him, but you don’t think for a moment that he would try anything.

You back off, clearing your throat as your cheeks catch fire. “Sorry,” you smile timidly. “I’ve just been… I’m not usually this clingy.”

He blinks out of his stupor, looking down at you. “Huh? Oh, don’t worry about it.” He grinned giddily, almost drunk. “Y-You are all good.”

You swallow. “I’ve gotta do an introduction type project for school, so I gotta get back home.” You walk back in the direction you two came. “Come to my place at about seven tomorrow. I’ll order food.”

He nods, body relaxed. “Seven. Got it.” He does.

You wave, walking back to the ladder. “Then I’ll see you then.”

He stands there, watching you leave. As soon as he hears the sliding of the manhole cover back into place, he takes a moment to celebrate the victory before starting to walk back to the lair.

‘I got a date!’

Table of Contents

Chapter 5

Chapter 6, Part 2

[calypsoff]

Eighty One.

Life is crazy, I am just sat on a jet going to Bora Bora, a nigga don’t even know of Bora Bora, I was speaking to Cena and he was saying that he is taking his partner away, away from the kids because they can’t get alone time and I just so happened to say that Robyn’ time is up, she can now have sex and he mentioned Bora Bora, I was like what the fuck and who the fuck is that until I researched it, this needs to be a thing now that we have a baby. I am just so blessed, I am beyond grateful for what I have got in life “daydreaming?” looking back over at Robyn “oh yeah, I was just posting this. Why the fuck are you hiding your face, I look good and you’re there hiding your face. I wanted a selfie not a face hide” rolling my eyes, I am going to post it anyways but I said let’s do a selfie so I can post on my IG, but she is playing stupid. I will get her back for this, I will do the same “I have a naked face Chris, stop it” adding the caption ‘adult holiday’ pressing send on the post “what does that mean naked face? What the hell does that got to with anything” Robyn shrugged “I just feel so white, I usually have a tan. I don’t know, I feel I have changed, my skin has changed. That is all, like I am not sure. I am sorry” locking my phone placing my phone down “don’t apologise, I am your husband, I just want to know if you’re ok that is all. Your face is fine, what is it?” now she got me staring at her face “don’t look at me like that, my face has come out hasn’t it? Please don’t look at me like I am lying” I am so confused “Robyn, I have seen you snoring with your mouth all open, drooling, farting, sick, peeing, I seen your butt hole. What the fuck haven’t I seen? I am the same guy that was creaming your butt, don’t give me that naked face shit” Robyn is trying to surpress her smile “oh my god” she mumbled “sorry, I was harsh, but I don’t like when you are like this with me. I love you I seen you at your worst and you seen me at mine. It’s love with us, it ain’t no I love you at your highest and stop at your lowest moment bullshit ok?” Robyn nodded her head; she is quiet because I am right.

Robyn scoffed “look at that” she held her hand out, reaching over and holding onto her hand “what am I actually looking at?” I laughed to myself, I held her out and didn’t even know what I am supposed to be looking at “my nails poppa, I didn’t manage to do that because I went for the wax, but this was short notice, now my nails aren’t pretty” rolling my eyes, she is a pain in the butt “right, and Robyn, I will get someone to come to the hotel and make them look pretty ok?” moving my hand back “really? For me, thank you poppa. I want to be pretty for you” sitting back in the seat “and you are, stop trying to stop me from touching and looking at the scaring left from having Rylee, it’s really nothing. I am not stupid Robyn, I be peeping that” Robyn put her head down “that is just me, but I will get over it, you know I will. Where are we staying?” Robyn asked “erm” rubbing the top of my head “the over the water bungalow things, four seasons whatever” I shrugged “what!?” she spat “what?” I retorted “that is expensive Chris, how much are you paying for this?” I shrugged it off licking my lips “it’s for you, don’t worry about it. Just know I am doing well with my clothing line and that is how I managed to do it, I just think it is important for us to spend time together because my parents had everything, but they never got the chance to like go away, I mean not baby making but just spend time together” I had to add “oh god, no. I don��t want no baby, well I mean another. I am not ready for that” she waved me off “same, Rylee got me on my toes currently but just want us to have a good time, I want you to be comfortable” nodding my head “I am with you of course” she says that, but she keeps adding these little things that she ain’t/

I felt rather manly to be just here and giving the card to the reception and just pay, instead of being the one cowering behind Robyn “it’s hot as shit here, I got my hoodie on” turning to Robyn laughing “well we did come from VA, take it off” shaking my head “when we get to our room we will” leaning down to Robyn, pressing a kiss to Robyn’ forehead “all that forehead for me” she hit my chest and I snorted laughing “the gentleman here is going to walk to your bungalow sir” turning to the reception “cool, thank you. Can you also get someone to come and do my wife nails. The nail person woman or whatever, if you can get someone to come please” the receptionist smiled “I can arrange that for you, will you be in the room in the afternoon” looking behind me “erm yeah we will be” I am sure of it “then sir we will get that to happen for you, we will charge it to your room and you can pay after” nodding my head as I turned away from the reception “come on then, see. I told you I would make it happen” holding Robyn’ hand “thank you” she rested her head on my arm “this place is so beautiful, I haven’t been here actually, I have seen just pictures” that made me smile, I am so glad I have bought her to a place where she hasn’t been “you better take this hoodie off when we get to the room, change out of this too” look at Robyn just scolding me already “I will, you going to change me” I joked “I will” she probably will actually.

I am shook, like I saw from the pictures that it looked amazing but being here in person “is there anything else I can do for you” the guy asked “no, this is amazing” there is a bathtub just here and you can open the double doors to the beautiful water facing the mount, I wanted it to be facing, I just bought the most expensive bungalow on the list, stepping outside onto the wooden deck, I am taken aback “wow” imagine fucking in the bath and ten we can come outside to the wooden deck and into the pool to fuck, nobody will see or fucking know. This is amazing, I am shocked with what money can buy. I can’t even believe the beauty this holds “this is amazing Chris, I am literally speechless just seeing the beauty” turning to Robyn “did I do good?” taking my hoodie off “warm as shit, we can walk around naked in peace. I am excited” throwing my hoodie at Robyn and she caught it, unbuckling my jeans “Chris, what are you doing?” Robyn said all concerned, taking my sneakers off as I did with the biggest smile on my face “you’re not” stepping out of my jeans and ran off, there is a deck I can just jump off, running down the steps “Chris!” she spat, I ran and just jumped over the side instead “woo!” I spat and jumped into the water.

Robyn threatened me to take off my wet socks and boxers off outside, so I had to obey of course, wrapping the towel around my waist laughing “did you hear me screaming at you?” nodding my head “I did, I was like she is being so damn dramatic, I am only going for a swim. I had to do it, look where we are. Take a picture of me though” holding my phone out to Robyn “mhmmm, am I not invited to the picture. Joking, where you want it” pressing my hair down “you can, I don’t mind it you know” walking back out to the wooden deck “just out here” turning to Robyn, leaning back on the side “don’t you think I look good, it’s amazing how I still got my six pack” squinting my eyes, the sun is in my eyes “nah, this is too sexy Chris. Put some clothes on” I laughed it off with what she said “take the damn picture Robyn, it’s not that big come on” Robyn is not amused “whatever” licking my lips grinning “here” Robyn huffed out passed me the phone “thank you” looking down at the picture “man, I look good as fuck” adding a caption ‘me and you ain’t in the same lane nigga!! Don’t drop the soap #804’ pressing send on the post, my cousin been on my ass on Instagram, and I don’t really care but I know this will upset him even more. I don’t get why his ugly ass even has a damn phone in jail, I want his ass to get caught because all he be doing is stalking me on different accounts, constantly he is making new accounts to get me.

Walking back into the bungalow, Robyn is getting ger nails done so I got bored of course and just sat outside in the sun “what you think?” Robyn lifted her hands up, I mean they are just red, what is she wanting me to say “they are cute” I smiled not knowing what else to say “thank you for this, you are spoiling me” I grinned “it’s ok, I got you” leaning over, pressing a kiss to her lips “why don’t you just your nails done, then again you have perfect nails. They are always perfect” looking down at my hands “you sound like a hater; I do not want my nails done thanks. I prefer not too” walking to the bedroom, I want her to be over with her nails already so we can go and eat. I have something cute for her. The sun will be set by the time she is done, jumping on the bed sighing out. Unlocking my phone, let’s see what page my cousin has made now to harass me on in my messages. He is so predictable with this shit he does, tapping on my messages and there it is a new page. Even sent me a video, how nice of him from his jail cell. Tapping on the video “You a bitch, a snitch and a no good nigga. When I was dealing I did it for my family, including you. I helped you when you had no money, I did it for your mom and dad. I cared, now you think you’re above us Chris. I love my auntie, this is why I would never let anything happen to her, I know where you moved them too, but you have no loyalty too” cutting the video off, I don’t really care anymore. I will send him one back, clearly he likes seeing me. Tapping on record “you are talking shit in jail cuz, let it go. You sound dumb, you’re going to rot there with no life, no wife, and no kid. Must kill you nigga” I sniggered “anyways, I am going to text Drake now and let him know he can drop off my daughter Christmas gifts next week, Happy Christmas” I laughed stopping the recording, I don’t care anymore. I really stopped caring a while ago now, I am above him.

I have been waiting for Robyn to come out of the bedroom, I have to wait for her to get ready clearly “I have a dilemma Chris, so I wanted to wear this dress without a bra. That can’t happen so I am wearing one, with padding of course, no choice in that” looking behind me from the chair “oh wow” seeing Robyn in a silk red dress, low cut dress “I can’t see no bra, I mean yes I get you want to now wear one, but it works for you. You look beautiful, wow” getting up from the chair “thank you” she twirled around “you look fuller, I like it. Booty come out too, man. You deserve your feet to be sucked, maybe your ass will be ate tonight” Robyn placed her arm around my back, licking my lips placing my hand on her booty “you mean that?” she said, nodding my head looking at her red lipstick “is that new? The lipstick” I am sure it is “this is why I married you, you really mean it. About eating my ass?” I winked at her “do I really look good? It’s been a while” I scoffed rolling my eyes “you get on my nerves, you nasty with stank breath. Happy” walking off “rude!” she spat “you know you look good” she just wants more compliments.

The waiter took a picture of Robyn and I with he sunsetting behind us “thank you brother” walking over to him and getting my phone “Chris this is amazing, I can’t even” making my way back to Robyn “let me put your chair in but you like it? I want it to be extra special” she sat down, I can tell with the look on her face she is so amazed, speechless by it all “it is, this is my Christmas. You have made it” walking around the table and sitting down, we are having dinner on the beach front, watching the sun going down “you have made mine, but everything. Like what you have done, you carried my daughter, you have gone through changes that I can’t even go through to make sure our baby good. The least I can do is make sure you’re good, have your nails done, get you relaxed. This is me appreciating you, I love you Robyn. Like shit ain’t to do with sex, it plays a big part, I would be lying if I said it don’t, it do but this is really about me appreciating you and what you do, I think every women deserves it. I got days set for you, we going to have fun. We going to spend time, celebrate you all day every day” Robyn put her head down smiling, she is so happy, I adore her “anyways, we cute yeah” Robyn reached over grabbing my phone “you can see but of the stomach, like it looks a little pouch don’t you think, I mean I have just started eating healthy you know? Can you do it from the breasts up” poking my lips out, I want to just shake her and say stop. There is no pouch or whatever “fine” I don’t want to upset her, she is annoying “I really don’t fuck with insecure women like that Robyn. You’re Rihanna what the hell, you crazy” she got to be on something “just because I am Rihanna doesn’t mean I have to be perfect Chris, I have insecurities. So you don’t fuck with me? My body has changed, yes you make me feel good. I am ok with you, out there no. You look so well, you always did but ever since you became a dad it’s like something clicked and you are just so confident and out here, your posts on Instagram you look sexy Chris” raising an eyebrow “that’s because I have the money and the connects to do things Robyn, I wasn’t out there because I had nothing, I was under you and now I can be me. I can do things and that’s because of you” I am no way better then Robyn anyways.

[vegetalass]

RDR2 Boys as Sugar Daddies

This is so nasty don’t read it 👀

18+!!! 

Basically just don’t tell the lawmen I wrote it

Arthur 

His main goal is for you to look nice by his side and for people to be jealous

To say he wants an absolute doll would be an understatement

This man wants a quiet sugar baby who does whatever he wants

And that’s not to say that means someone submissive, just that he wants someone who is open to anything and doesn’t question his requests 

Honestly, just let him choose what you wear

Model everything for him in the dressing room so he can decide if things are a yes or no 

He always says yes, but it’s a process that you cannot skip 

He also likes a sugar baby who’s happy to see him 

The more excited and grateful and kissy you are when you’re around him, the better

Totally milks you for kisses any chance he gets

Specifically, cheek kisses (in public) 

“All I get is a thank you?” or “I’m not so sure, I’m gonna need some more convincing” 

Initiate sex in his car, you won’t regret it 

Also, go with him when he’s shopping for himself... 

The flex rates will be off the charts

Gets you one of those lil necklaces with his initials on it

Please wear his Vineyard Vines flannels 

It’s instant boner material 

John 

Bad at being a sugar daddy, but he gets the job done 

Basically just gets you a credit card attached to his account and leaves it at that

But he loves seeing the your style morph as you buy new clothes and jewelry 

And loves seeing the designer tags and receipts that get left around his house 

Spends a lot more time trying to do stuff with you rather than buy you things 

He’s the one who takes vacations and yacht trips (and whatever else rich people do idfk) because he doesn’t know how else to spoil you 

He’s also the one who wears $500 sweatpants and Gucci slippers all the time 

He’s a bad father not because he doesn’t care about Abigail and Jack, but he takes you to Jack’s sports games and performances (ouch) 

He’s not doing it to be malicious though, he just likes to take his sugar baby along with him when he goes places

And honestly it’s fine because Abigail makes his pockets hurt too 

If you try to take him clothing or jewelry shopping with you, he gets so confused 

You could be trying on the ugliest, most expensive outfit and he’d be like “Yes, looks great, I love it” or could be trying to choose between two pairs of diamond earrings and he wouldn’t be able to tell them apart

TBH, has a private chef

Charles

All about the subtleties 

Expensive flowers and wine delivered to your door

Has custom bracelets and rings made to give you

Picks you up from work in his expensive ass car

Doesn’t care if you’re walking around barefaced in pajamas as long as you’re wearing the gold necklace he got you

He doesn’t really care for doing the shopping with you, but he does want you to be happy

If you ask for anything, he just hands you his credit card and car keys

And then expects you to show (*cough* model) it all to him later, of course

Expect to go out to expensive dinners CONSTANTLY

Also to do other fun things, like go to ballgames, concerts, and etc. 

Probably has a membership at every single private club and store in the area

Loves a good designer, pink sheer bathrobe and matching fuzzy slippers vibe

Also… lipstick stains 

He will walk around all day with them on his face on purpose

If someone points it out, he smiles and ignores them 

Posts pictures of you guys together on social media and doesn’t respond to comments

Buys you all the latest technology the day it comes out

New phone, new headphones, new vacuum cleaner, and anything at all

Basically what I’m saying is: marry him 

Micah 

Since we’re already being nasty, he’s probably just in it for the sex

He wants you to look nice too, but for him, it’s more about the reward he gets from it at the end 

AKA: Taking it off of you 

He’s a freak of nature, so his favorite thing is seeing his sugar baby in pretty heavy makeup 

Mostly because he likes seeing it run and smear over time

Gets off to you telling other people how much you love him and showing off everything he’s bought you

He’s also willing to spend more on you if you brag

Like Arthur, he likes to have a deciding vote on everything you buy, but he actually takes it seriously and comments on how things look

Probably ends up complaining if you want to buy things that aren’t meant to impress him (see: pajamas, expensive snacks, furniture, etc. )

If you beg hard enough though, he’ll just sigh and give in 

“I work so hard for you and give you so much and this is how you treat me?” 

Sugar baby: “Yes.”

Expects nudes in the underwear he ships to your house 

They’re all G-strings, see through, or latex 

Kieran 

One of those sugar daddies who mostly just wants the emotional connection 

But that’s okay because he’s a sweetie and we love him

Enjoys it when his sugar baby gets a little bratty 

He’s not into the punishing aspect of it, but loves feeling needed and useful

Basically just boss him around a little bit

Has all your clothes tailored specifically for you

Likes to hold all your shopping bags at the mall while you run around buying things

If you genuinely ask him for advice, suggestions, or thoughts on anything you want to get, he immediately has to get it for you… Doesn’t matter what it is or if it’s ugly, them’s the rules 

He’s mostly just so touched that you care what he thinks 

Please introduce him to your coworkers so he can flex 

He’s pretty humble about it, but it’s still fun 

Probably owns some super large ranch out in the country that you both vacation at a lot

The one social media post he makes of you is a picture of you riding a fancy horse there

It’s blurry, but it’s the thought (and the flex) that counts

Wear anything with his name on it and he has to pass away immediately 

Javier

As long as you’re in expensive clothes and makeup, he doesn’t really care about much else 

And not just any expensive clothes, the expensive clothes that HE picked out

Usually they match his

You can suggest things for him to buy, but overall he likes to pick things out

The intent of making you look nice is so that he looks better

Enjoys it when you hang on his arm and dote on him 

Be taller than him. 

Even if it takes heels, do it

Posts pictures of his sugar baby on social media

Lowkey his entire feed is just you in a different outfit in every single photo

The captions are all like “Had fun today” or “👍”

Hair and nails always done 24/7

He makes the appointments for you 

If you let him choose the color and style, you will be rewarded 

Hires a limo for every occasion 

And yes, he has a private driver 

As long as he’s flexing with you, he’s happy 

Sean

Anything you want, you have to ask for

Not because he doesn’t want to get it for you, but because he wants to hear you beg for it (and whine) 

Literally just wants to show his sugar baby off 

All he does at parties is talk about you 

How you met, how sweet you’ve been, how pretty you are, etc. 

Constantly bringing you flowers

So many flowers that they’re practically just laying around your house 

Sex in dressing rooms

No, he’s not afraid to give you oral in them

And yes, it’s obvious 

Slips the attendant some cash on the way out because you feel so bad for them

Probably has tabs open at most shops and clubs, so paying isn’t a problem after he introduces you to staff

Pays for a private booth at a nightclub vibes

Sit on his lap to make the other boys jealous 

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 292: You Say Jeans

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “well anyway here’s that Touya reveal I foreshadowed like a million years ago, viva la 2020.” Dabi was all “hello world, I’ve killed 30 people and today I’m going to explain to you all why” before he proceeded to explain ABSOLUTELY NOTHING but everyone was so distracted by his tale of child abuse and hero conspiracies that they didn’t much seem to notice. Can’t Ya See-Kun’s Shark Friend was all “IS THIS THE END OF HERO SOCIETY AS WE KNOW IT”, and Horikoshi was all “STAY TUNED”, and then Dabi set himself on fire and leaped off of Machia’s back like the chaotic evil, I-just-bleached-all-my-brain-cells weird little fire man he is, ready to burn everyone to crispy bits before they could even react properly to his whole big revenge speech. Fortunately he did not succeed on account of THE RETURN OF THE JING, THE JOAT, BEST FUCKING JEANIST, back from the dead by popular demand in what critics are calling “the best fucking comeback since Jesus himself.”

Today on BnHA: Best Jeanist snatches up Machia and the rest of the League with his fiber steel cables before you can say “more like BEAST JEANIST amirite.” Dabi gets all worked up and lights Hadou on fire which is a real JERK MOVE, and is all “THIS RIGHT HERE IS ALSO ENDEAVOR’S FAULT”, which, NOT SUPER CONVINCED ON THAT, BUT OKAY. Anyway so then he burns up all the cables holding him which is crazeballs btw, and then he and Shouto start fighting, and so basically the whole thing is a literal hot mess and we’ll see how that goes. Meanwhile Tomura wakes up and summons some Noumus, and poor Jeanist has to deal with those on top of the still-attempting-to-rampage Gigantomachia, and everyone else is all “we can’t help you on account of we’re all half dead”, and so it’s looking really bad. And then -- and I can’t stress enough how much I don’t even have the faintest idea how to segue into this next part -- the chapter ends with Mirio!?! just sort of POPPING UP OUT OF THE GROUND all, “SURPRISE, BITCH”, and it literally was so surprising that I am still just kind of speechless. WELL-PLAYED, I GUESS, lol wtf.

lol okay so the first page in the RHA scan is just the “three musketeers” movie promo image that we all already saw a few days ago. but it does confirm that (a) it is indeed a movie, and (b) that it’s set for a summer 2021 release! how exciting

okay so now back to our special Dabi edition of Making a Murderer

“ray of hope” oh hell yes. SAVE US MR. JEANIST

I guess he had a TV in his private hero jet or something?

gotta say, “dammit Dabi” does not even remotely sound like Authentic Best Jeanist Dialogue to me though. gonna need Caleb to see to this. well but what do you guys think? does Best Jeanist curse?? I personally feel like he’s one of those guys who NEVER EVER swears no matter what, except under the most hilariously trifling circumstances. like he’s eating an avocado one day and he accidentally stains the cuffs of his beloved jostume green and he’s all “FUCK”

btw how fucking rich is Best Jeanist though that he has his own fucking plane? the thought just suddenly occurred to me, you know? like even Endeavor, whose agency has its own on-site luxury apartment suites for all of his interns, still drives around in a dinky little car that Bakugou has declared to be too small. which, I guess we know why he felt that way now, seeing as the guy he previously interned with apparently gets around in Jeans Force One

anyway so back to the part where Jeanist shows up to save the day!! YEAH JEANIST WOOOOO

ILU JEANIST YOU REALLY ARE THE BEST!! HUGS AND KISSES!!!

lmao we just saw Gigantomachia take out like a hundred guys not ten chapters ago. and Best Jeanist shows up and takes him down in like two seconds. HOW DO YOU LIKE THEM APPLES LEAGUE OF VILLAINS. BET YOU’RE WISHING YOU’D TAKEN HIS QUIRK NOW, AFO. GET FUCKED YOU OLD SPUD

KACCHAN IS SO HAPPY TO SEE HIM AWW

SIDE NOTE, IIDA, YOU AND I ARE GONNA HAVE WORDS LATER ABOUT YOU ACTUALLY AGREEING TO PUT HIM BACK DOWN. YOU DO UNDERSTAND THAT THIS CHILD IS STILL DRIPPING BLOOD ALL OVER THE PLACE FROM HIS MULTIPLE STAB WOUNDS, RIGHT? WAY TO ASSERT YOUR AUTHORITY THERE. I THOUGHT YOU WERE THE CLASS PRESIDENT NOT THE CLASS CLOWN, COME ON NOW

LMAO DABI IS FRANTICALLY TRYING TO DO THE PLOT MATH

SHOULDA CHECKED MORE CLOSELY MY GOOD MARK. LOOKS LIKE YOU MISSED THE “MADE IN CHINA” STICKER ON THE BOTTOM. YOU HAVE BEEN BAMBOOZLED. OR ACTUALLY, I GUESS THE MORE ACCURATE WORD HERE IS JAMBOOZLED, AHAHAHAHA. JEANS

HOLY SHIT DABI

I legit almost thought that was Tomura for a second. you two look so alike now with the white hair and the crazy eyes

meanwhile, Shouto is still crying and it’s a lot to take, you guys. lotta feels

ffff come on Jeanist you better do something awesome again here, the mood of the chapter is starting to slip now

YES, GOOD, THAT’LL WORK

WELL YOU TELL ME, SPINNER. I GUESS THAT MEANS BEST JEANIST IS OFFICIALLY THE STRONGEST CHARACTER IN THE SERIES NOW. SORRY I DON’T MAKE THE RULES

ffff now Spinner is trying to wake Tomura back up. nah, how’s about we not do that

OH MY GOD HADOU YESSSS

MY GIRL OUT HERE WITH THE “NO THANK YOU” BOUT TO CURBSTOMP THE BIG BAD WITH HER QUIRK KSFHLKLK WHO HERE HAD “HADOU SAVES THE DAY” ON YOUR WAR ARC BINGO CARDS, YOU LOVE TO SEE IT!!

HEY!!!!

fucking son of a... fffkfkff... someone please reassure me that fire isn’t Hadou’s weakness. someone. anyone. also could someone please dial an ambulance and send them to Horikoshi’s house. but not just yet. first I’m gonna need you to wait about fifteen minutes or so while I take care of some things

well all right then, Dabi. so you wanna go on then and explain to us all how this, too, is somehow Endeavor’s fault?

oh I see, you’ve decided that since he’s responsible for “creating” you, everyone you hurt and kill is in truth really being hurt and killed by him! well now, that sure is convenient as fuck I guess

(ETA: that’s a nice effect with the panel sides getting all warped by Dabi’s quirk though, just noticed that.)

amazing how quickly you used up that sympathy card my guy. Shouto please kick his ass, I’m fucking done lol, you can all sort out the rest in therapy later

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE DIAL BACK DEKU’S EMPATHY STATS JUST A LITTLE BIT, HOLY --

“TODOROKI-KUN IS HURT THE MOST”, HE SAYS, WITH HIS ARM BONES SHATTERED INTO LITTLE TOOTHPICK-SIZED PIECES. I MEAN, HE’S PROBABLY TALKING MORE ABOUT MENTAL ANGUISH GIVEN THE CONTEXT HERE, BUT STILL. THAT’S ENOUGH HEROICS FROM YOU ALREADY FOR ONE DAY

NOOO JEANIST

LOTS OF SMOKE IN THE AIR RIGHT ABOUT NOW AND MY BOY’S STILL DOWN A LUNG. GOD DAMMIT

“if the number one suffers a total loss here, this country will fall to pieces” well okay, real talk though, I think the “country falling to pieces” part is pretty much unavoidable at this juncture. you all are just gonna have to try your best to pick up those pieces after the fact and see what you can do with them. if I were you I’d be less worried about the number one’s reputation and more concerned with the half-dozen child soldier interns who are still on the field and very much at risk of being burned to death should you suffer that “total loss.” please try to keep it together here for them

OH FOR FUCK’S

I really thought RockLockRock was gonna come into play here. USE YOUR QUIRK TO LOCK THE ROPES IN PLACE YOU DIP!! if he seriously just sits there and does nothing when his quirk could be the deciding factor I am cancelling his useless ass cute kid or no cute kid shfkjdls

(ETA: is he even there?? did he and Manual just hightail it out of there?? “well good luck, children.”)

also, we’ll put this aside for now to perhaps speculate about later, but what’s with Tomura remembering his dad’s house yet again in that far right panel?? and being itchy again?? I still have yet to fully work out the psychological mechanisms at work as far as his itchiness goes, so I’ll admit this is intriguing to me. it seemed like it was connected to his decay quirk, but then why is it acting up again now. what is this lol

yuh oh

forgot about these guys. looks like these heroes aren’t having such a fun time

oh fucksticks

excuse me ma’am but I don’t like this. you do know that my kids are all there, right. all burnt and impaled and broken-boned and the like. well except for Iida. he’s fine still. BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN I FEEL LIKE WATCHING HIM GET TORN APART BY FOUR HIGH ENDS, WTF

HORIKOSHI YOU MOTHERFUCKER I SWEAR TO GOD

god fucking... okay look. Horikoshi. you win, okay!? congratulations, you win, this is your show and we’re all just sitting here at your mercy. fine. go ahead and just kill off everyone ever, then!! what am I even gonna do about it. stop reading?? fuck

this whole thing really went from zero to fucked before I could even blink huh. I really thought this was gonna be a turning point chapter for the heroes. shows what I know I guess??

meanwhile this motherfucker is just SCREAMING

ngl, if I wasn’t currently terrified on account of things suddenly taking such a drastic turn for the worse, this would be the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Jeanist my man, I hype you up like it’s my job because you are the greatest fucking meme character in the history of time, but make no mistake, you are also highkey WORTH ALL THE HYPE AND THEN SOME

seriously, though. don’t fucking mind him you guys, he’s just standing here in the coolest pose of all time taking on Gigantomachia all alone with one fucking lung because the substance pumping through his veins is COLD-BLOODED LIQUID DENIM, and DENIM FEELS NO FEAR

Best Jeanist really needs to get his own theme song. -- oh my god I just finally thought of a title for this post. lmao and it’s the dumbest thing. omg

MEANWHILE THE TODOROKI BROS ARE OFF IN THEIR OWN DRAMATIC LITTLE FIRE WORLD

which one do you think is the Mario and which is the Luigi. well, but I mean, Dabi clearly thinks that he’s the Luigi though and that’s why he’s so mad. nobody wants to be Luigi. what a life

THAT’S IT, SHOUTO!! POINT OUT ALL OF HIS HYPOCRITICAL BULLSHIT, I WANT ANSWERS

JUST TO CLARIFY, IT’S THAT NATSU, NOT SOME OTHER NATSU!! SO WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF!!

OH, WELL IN THAT CASE

BUT OF COURSE. THAT WOULD MAKE IT ALL WORTHWHILE, holy shit. okay I’m just gonna go ahead and say it, Dabi is a piece of work. I really thought this arc would make him more sympathetic at long last, but it seems like it’s doing just the opposite?? this is like an anti-redemption arc. I don’t relish the thought of venturing into the fandom tags once I finish reading this lol

(ETA: well folks, I’ve done it. and actually it was pretty interesting because there are apparently like ten different things that people are mad about, and so it’s like. each post is a new adventure lmao.)

so Shouto is all “BRUH HAVE YOU COMPLETELY LOST IT” and Dabi is all “YES”, basically? like, he says he’s completely lost his feeling for anything. omg. but you were so sweet. how does that even happen

“finally I can kill you” okay for real what the heck is your damage bro?? can we not. I like Shouto just the way he is, un-killed

oh shit and now the Noumus are here

cue Bakugou diving in to save his mentor, STAB WOUNDS BE DAMNED!! actually it would make more sense for it to be Iida, but if Kacchan is really fixin’ to go full Shounen Dumbass here then he might as well go all out, y’know

-- unless of course, Deku decides to activate another quirk??

“last I checked, the main character of this series was still me” OH? WELL I SUPPOSE THAT IS TRUE, SO PRAY TELL, WHAT HAVE YOU GOT LEFT UP YOUR SLEEVE YOU SUICIDAL BRUSSELS SPROUT

fucking love how he’s all “HAHAHA WITH MY NEW QUIRKS I CAN STILL DO STUPID SHIT EVEN WITH MY ARMS AND LEGS GROUND TO A FINE POWDER” btw. what can I say. Deku gonna Deku

FMMFHDKUHK W H A T

HOLY SHIT. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. WHAT THE WHAT. QUE THE FUCK

(ETA: okay look, all the love in the world to the brave scanlators who take time out of their lives to translate the leaks every week just so we can read the chapter a couple of days early like the addicts we are. that said, translating Mirio’s signature “POWER!!” -- which was already written in English in the original scan -- to “POG-CHAMP” is just a whole new level of wtfuckery from them lmao. is the Lida person back at it again?? amazing.)

MIRIO!?!?! SHOWS UP TO SAVE THE DAY?!?! POGS HIMSELF UP OUT THE GROUND TO BEAT THE NOUMUS LIKE IT AIN’T NO THING. JUST LIKE WE ALL PREDICTED!? I’M SORRY, DID YOU NOT SEE THAT COMING?? YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOUR DAILY HOROSCOPE FROM ASTROLOGY DOT COM DIDN’T HAVE THAT ONE IN THE CARDS?? WAS IT NOT OBVIOUS?? TODOROKIS PLUS BEST JEANIST EQUALS MIRIO??

hot damn. Tintin really saw the writing on the wall with the impending Dabi Discourse and was all “NOT SO FAST” lmao. “HERE’S A BRAND NEW THING FOR YOU ALL TO DISCOURSE ABOUT” MIRIO YOU WILD CHILD. YOU GLORIOUS THUG

MEANWHILE LET’S NOT FORGET WHAT MIRIO HAVING HIS POWERS BACK ACTUALLY IMPLIES. HOLY SHIT. SUDDENLY WE CUT BACK TO ALL MIGHT’S OFFICE, ALL THE WAY BACK AT UA. ERI BRANDISHES HER TOKOYAMI-GIFTED BUSTER SWORD, A DETERMINED GLEAM IN HER EYE. “I HEARD YOU WERE TRYING TO HAVE A GIRL POWER ARC WITHOUT ME.” OH. MY. GOD

[ladyanput]

Seeing Red Ch.4

The morning had been boring as all hell, not that that had surprised Eva. A free day for everyone to scatter and she decided to avoid Bustier and to let Marinette have a fun day exploring Gotham, with friends, of course.

So she had talked herself to going to a cute little cafe and ordering herself a slice of cheesecake and a cup of hot chocolate. She took a seat in a booth and just enjoyed the solitary moment to herself. No idiot teachers, no bratty students, no stress of anything. Just her and this cheesecake that would go straight to her hips.

“What are you doing here all by yourself?" 

Eva looked up and met the impossibly blue eyes of Jason Todd. She was so startled at the sight of him that she began coughing as she swallowed a mouthful of hot cocoa wrong. Embarrassment burned her cheeks as she hacked at the sudden pain, doubling over on the table. She soon felt Jason’s large hand settle on her back and begin rubbing it.

"Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, Eva.” Jason winced when he saw her watering eyes and red face. He had been just as surprised to see her in this small cafe, and like an idiot he had just strode up and demanded why she was there like a jackass.

“It’s fine, I’m fine.” She reached out a hand to set it on his shoulder, trying not to notice how broad it was under her hand. She forced a smile as she sat up, using a napkin to wipe her mouth. “I was off in my daydreams, so I guess it was going to be inevitable that something would scare me." 

The two shared a smile before Jason motioned to the seat across from her. At Eva’s nod, he took a seat. They stared at each other for a while, before Jason cleared his throat, suddenly feeling rather embarrassed.

"So.. Damian is rather lovestruck, I’d say. It’s a bit scary, he’s always been this hardass, no nonsense kind of guy, then he meets this French girl and he’s all doe eyed and smiled more. He’s not supposed to smile.” Jason shook his head, quickly ordering himself a coffee when the waitress came over.

“I was a bit hesitant about Marinette dating him.” Eva admitted as she poked at her cheesecake with her, keeping her gaze lowered. “I mean, they’ve barely known each other for a week and suddenly they’re dating? Pardon me if I’m skeptical.”

Jason opened his mouth to agree, but his mind quickly flashed to the past couple of nights. It wasn’t dating exactly, but it was a fair bit… Hypocritical of himself to agree.

"If Damian hurts her, how about I break both of his legs?” He reached out and set his hand over hers, only to feel his heart begin to race when she turned her hand to grasp his.

“And I’ll break both of his arms, and we can toss his body in the river." 

The two shared a smile, and before they both knew it, they were walking around Gotham, trading stories and laughing, before they eventually arrived in front of the hotel, Eva with a hesitance to her body language.

“What’s wrong?” Jason began to reach out, but stopped himself and tucked his hands into his pockets. 

“Nothing, I just.. I like this job, I really do, it’s just.. I don’t like Caline, or the kids, except Marinette of course, some of them aren’t so bad, butI think I’m going to go grey soon!” Eva ran her fingers through her hair, seeming a bit rattled at the feeling of the words bursting from her lips. “I want to kind of quit, but.. I’m only there for a year, and I love France, but the circumstances are shit.”

“I thought I sensed some tension on your shoulders. Dick told me all about that class, especially that Rossi chick. Trust me, liars like her don’t last very long, eventually her lies catch up to her. And surely there’s something else keeping you sane, right? Maybe a boyfriend…?”

Jason didn’t know why he was fishing. It was a fling, nothing important, but the thought of Eva having a boyfriend.. It didn’t make him feel very good.

“…” Those purple eyes were suddenly downcast, a frown settling on those impossibly soft lips. “No.. There hasn’t been anyone for a long time. I mean, there’s a guy in Gotham that I met that I kind of want to get to know more, but we kind of agreed to not get into that kind of relationship. Besides, he and I have only known each other for a few days, it’d be a bit weird to suddenly jump into a romantic relationship like that, right?” 

He didn’t know exactly how to answer that. Jason.. He never really had a good deal with ladies, he liked both guys and girls, but love.. It wasn’t something he wanted to pursue, because well, he was a broken man. A man with a fucked up past that he didn’t want to burden on anyone else. 

“Anyways, I should get inside, it was a pretty long day.” She gave him a small smile, and a playful wink. “I’ll need as much beauty rest as I can get with these kids.”

As he watched her walk away, a small smile played on his lips as his eyes drifted to the sway of those hips, a sway that showed that she meant business. How could it be that anyone could have such a perfect ass?

Eva entered the hotel, spotting Marinette surrounded by a few of her friends. With a sudden spring in her step, Eva began to make her way over to the girl, though her steps faltered upon the sight of the desk clerk motioning her over.

“Ma’am, I do hope you had a good day today. Er.. We found that we charged your card with some unnecessary purchases during your night at the bar, and to try and fix that hiccup, we decided to give you one of the better rooms.” The clerk blurted out with incredible speed, holding out a key card, her bright and cheerful smile not once cracking. “I do hope that you will forgive us for this inconvenience and enjoy the rest of your stay.”

“Oh.. Well, thank you.” Eva glanced between the clerk and the key card. She had just checked her bank account an hour ago, and there had been no other charges than that bottle of wine.. “Well, I guess I’ll get my stuff.”

“Oh, we already had the staff move it for you, so that you can simply go and have a relaxing night. And any room service for the rest of your stay is on us!” The clerk put in quickly, before giving a soft giggle. “Have a good evening, Miss Bourbon.”

Eva’s brows drew together as she stared down at the key card in her hand. She slowly made her way over to where Marinette stood, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

"What’s that?” Nino blinked in surprise at the sight of the shiny new key card.

“I.. Guess I got a new room..” Eva murmured, before turning her gaze to Marinette. “I also got a free dinner. Wanna join me for a bit?”

The smile she received in return made the whole thing seem so much more tolerable.

…

“So.. Has Damian called you?” Eva grinned at the sight of the blush rising in Marinette’s cheeks. “My goodness, sugar cookie, I think you’ve got it worse than when you had your crush on Adrien.”

“I do not! I mean, I can actually talk to Damian without making a complete fool of myself..” Marinette took a hold of one of her pigtails, tugging on it as her blush only grew worse. “And.. I think he actually cared about me. Like, really cares.”

“Ugh, young love, it’s too sweet, I’m going to get sick.” Eva faked a retching noise, only to have a pillow thrown at her face.

“Eva, I’m serious! I think that maybe I can finally have something.. Something real.” Mari murmured as she hugged one of the other pillows to her chest, an almost dreamy look crossing her face. “I mean.. It could be something amazing.”

Babe, you and I are something real..

Eva tensed as she felt the ice spread in her stomach, David’s face flashing in her mind, his smug grin as he grabbed the front of her shirt and pulled her in for a kiss…

A knock at the door tore Eva from those thoughts, causing her to rush over, avoiding meeting Marinette’s curious eyes.

“Well.. If you do want to pursue this relationship.. Please be careful, Marinette. I know that you think this guy is great, but,” Her grip tightened so hard on the doorknob that her knuckles turned white. “, First impressions can be deceiving.”

They were served in an overly fancy fashion, their meals kept under silver domes, the room service worker pouring both ladies each a glass of sparkling pomegranate juice, before they were left sitting at the small table in silence.

“How.. Did you get this room again?” Marinette posed her pasta dish absentmindedly with her form, while Eva shrugged in response. “You should have seen the look on Miss Bustier’s face when she found out you got a better room. Lila is spreading around a rumour that you slept with a staff member to get special treatment.”

“You know what, let’s not worry about those two anymore. I’m tired of Lila and you guys are graduating this year, in a few months, so I’m not going to give her the time of day anymore. Her lies won’t work out there in the real world, because unlike Alya, people actually check their fucking facts.” Eva muttered as she sipped the juice, trying to ignore the growing anger in her chest. Those people weren’t worth it. “Now, about Damian Wayne.. Listen, Marinette, you’ve fallen for a pretty rich boy before, just take this slower, please. You claimed that you fell in love with Adrien the very day you met him, and I’m sorry, but love just doesn’t work like that. Yeah, you can feel attraction, but love is so much more.”

Marinette was quiet as she finally took a bit of her food, refusing to meet Eva’s invasive gaze. She seemed to be almost tearing up as she swallowed and finally spoke.

“I know, Eva, but.. I don’t think it’s wrong to believe in love. People fall in love every day, and I feel like Damian is going to be better than Adrien. He is actually acting like an adult, he seems to actually be.. Well, you know, he actually cares and is aware of reality.”

Eva clicked her tongue , but nodded. Adrien was a bit of an.. An airhead, in Eva’s eyes. He never seemed to fully grasp what was going on, or how life actually worked. Marinette had gone through far too much thanks to her crush on that boy.

“Sugar cookie, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like I was demeaning.” Eva sighed and stood, moving over and pulling the girl into a tight hug. “I just care, you know? You’re the only family I have.”

“You’re lucky to have a little sister like me.” Marinette teased as she hugged her back, smiling to herself as she felt the warmth radiating off of her. “But I do appreciate the advice. I was a complete mess with Adrien.”

“We’re all a mess with our first crush.” Eva kissed the top of her head. “Now finish your food before it gets cold.”

…

Eva sighed to herself as she stared at herself in the mirror. She touched the corners of her eyes, glaring at the dark shadows under her eyes. Her body jolted when she heard a knock at the window, slowly making her way over and cautiously opened the curtains. At the sight of Red Hood dangling outside her window caused her to grin.

“Never think of entering through my door?” She teased as she let him inside, only to let out a cry of surprise as he scooped her up in his embrace, giving his shoulder a playful smack. “You’re covered in snow, asshole, you’re freezing!”

“You were on my mind all day. You and this sexy ass of yours.” Red Hood growled softly as he gave her ass a sharp squeeze through her pyjama pants. “And that sharp tone of yours.”

“You insatiable pervert, I must be really turning you into a sex fiend, huh?” Eva taunted, giving her hips a playful wriggle, her heart beginning to pound in her chest.

“Only for you, you little vixen. It’s illegal to be as sexy as you are.”  Red Hood gave her ass a smack then, causing her to moan.

“Hmm, then are you taking me into the coppers, Red Hood? Finally gonna cuff me and put me behind bars?” She giggled as she was thrown onto the bed, his hands sliding along her body as he pinned her underneath him.

“I suppose you. Be careful what you say, anything you say can and will be held against you, my vixen..” He whispered as he began to unbutton her top, his gloved hand sliding in to grasp one of her breasts and squeezing it. “Fuck..”

“Red Hood..” Eva panted out, arching her back as she felt the cold material of the gloves on her heated skin. “Red Hood, my Red Hood..”

“Mmm, naughty girl. Maybe I should teach you a lesson before taking you in..” He growled, reaching over to the lamp to switch it off.

A knock at her door caused them both to freeze.

“Miss Bourbon? Are you there?” Adrien’s muffled voice could be heard, causing Eva to curse under her breath.

“Ignore him..” Red Hood hissed, once again reaching for the lamp once again, only to let out a frustrated growl when Adrien knocked once again. “I’m going to kick that kid’s ass.”

“You shush, Casanova, he must be having quite the bit of trouble if he’s coming to me and not Caline.” Eva rolled out from under Red Hood and grumbled as she buttoned up her shirt, then pulled on a robe. “But don’t worry, if you ever come to Paris, I’ll point out a lazy cat themed superhero whose ass you can destroy.”

Jason watched as Eva fixed her appearance; smoothing down her messy hair, adjusting the robe to hide her lack of a bra, though he noticed her skin was still rather rosy. It was funny, hearing her speak so.. So brashly, while she always appeared like those high class ladies he would see at those weird events he had gone to with Bruce before.. Before th Joker had killed him. 

“Well, if the kid’s in trouble, I know you can help him, you would obviously go through gunfire for that girl, so I guess you’d do that for anyone.” Red Hood teased.

“No..” Alya and Lila’s faces flashed in her mind and for a moment, Eva felt shame. “Not anyone.”

As Eva set a hand on the doorknob, she felt Red Hood’s arms wrap around her waist, hugging her tightly.

“Tomorrow.. I’m going to take you on a proper date, okay? Well, as proper of a date as a vigilante like myself can do. No secret apartment rendezvous, no drinking beer on a roof, just something nice, okay?” He whispered, and Eva found her cheeks began to burn. 

“That sounds great.. Um.. H- have a good night, Red.�� She whispered back, leaning into his embrace. When he finally let go and left, the room felt so cold, so empty. She felt so empty.

“Oh, Miss Bourbon! Sorry if I woke you, I was just hoping we could talk.” Adrien blurted out as soon as the woman opened the door. At her skeptical look, he pressed his hands together in a pleading gesture. “Please! I was wrong, wrong about Lila and I want to make it up to Marinette. You’re the only one who’s close to her now, so you’ll know what to do.” 

“Fine.” Eva pulled on her robe tighter, then propped open the door and let him inside. At his questioning look, she shrugged. “In case Lila happens upon the room and tries anything, the door is wide open, I have nothing to hide. Besides, I’m tired, Adrien, I was about to turn in for the night.”

‘Oh.. I’m sorry… Adrien murmured as he entered the room, taking a look around, a bit surprised at how extravagant everything was, it even had its own mini bar. “The hotel was really generous to give you this.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t really need it, though a room without Bustier is a dream come true.”

Adrien looked as if he were about the comment, but wisely kept his mouth shut. He turned his gaze to the open window and squinted ever so slightly at the sight of the faint foot impressions on the sill. Had someone broken in? Or.. Had Ladybug been here? His green eyes settled on Eva, who had turned the Keurig on, his heart beginning to pound. She had to be the key to Ladybug, to his lady, to his rightful happily ever after.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” The T.A. walked over with two steaming mugs. She handed once to Adrien.  “Hot chocolate. I remember one time you mentioned to Nino that you can’t drink coffee because it would stain your teeth.”

“Um.. Thank you, Miss Bourbon.” Adrien waited for her to say a cheerful ‘oh please, call me Eva!’, but it never came. She merely sat down, taking a long sip of her black coffee. His eyes trained on the array of dark bruises on her neck and collarbone, hiding a smirk as he took a sip of his hot chocolate. She certainly must be easy if she was already with someone here in Gotham, she must be encouraging Ladybug to follow her behaviour with Damian too. Adrien made a mental note that once he finally convinced Ladybug to date him, he’d get her as far away from Evangeline Bourbon as possible, maybe get the T.A. sent back to Canada. He couldn’t have his future wife becoming so wanton and loose.

“I just want to know what I did wrong, Miss Bourbon. I tried so hard to try and get everyone to get along, I didn’t bully anyone, I never said anything hurtful to Marinette, did I?” Adrien met her gaze, met those eyes that sent chills down his spine. 

Eva closed her eyes briefly as she prayed to every god and goddess up in the heavens to give her patience. 

“That’s the problem, Adrien, since you tried to get everyone to get along, that you merely put a band-aid over a chainsaw wound. And, Marinette felt like you were ignoring her feelings, making Lila a priority.” Eva clicked her tongue softly.

“B-but what if Lila gets akumatized if we expose her?! If Marinette just put the lies aside and got along with her, we’d all be happy again!” Adrien burst out.

“So you say that Marinette should just roll over and take it, because it inconveniences you? Adrien, Lila has been akumatized over fifteen times, and those are just the ones we know of. She’s always going to get akumatized, Adrien, there is really no way without it. But imagine how much it’s going to hurt when this eventually gets out.” She trailed a fingertip around the rim of her mug. “Think really hard about all of this.”

Adrien was quiet for a long time, his grip tightening slightly on his mug. 

“I’m sorry.. I guess.. M-my mother left a few years ago, she always told me that you should work hard to keep the light in the world, since it can be so cruel.” He whispered, bowing his head.

Eva flinched as a memory flashed across her mind; her mother getting in her car and driving off, never to return, leaving her all alone with her pathetic father. Pity filled her chest as she remembered how cold Gabriel Agreste was to his son. To lose a mother, to have an absentee father, in a sense.. It definitely causes one to be vulnerable. And Adrien certainly was a sheltered boy, so I guess it made a bit of sense..

“Listen, if you really want to get on good terms with Marinette again, you’ll need to apologize. Maybe do something nice for her to show you actually mean it and aren’t putting out empty air.”

Adrien grinned, Eva missing the almost mad glint in his eyes.

“Yes, of course! I know exactly what to do!”

Taglist: @the-navistar-carol @chocolate1721 @emo-elaine13 @mochinek0 @drarryismylife101 @toodaloo-kangaroo @moonlightstar64 @imtryingsstuff @shamefullove  

[benkouji726]

A Book Store

Written for Malex Week 2020.

Day 1 (July 13) Somewhere Only We Know. Fic Prompt: Meet Ugly

Based on Meet Ugly Prompt 71: You’re famous and you want to hide out in my bookstore which is fine except the stupid paparazzi won’t leave and now there’s a photo of us in the tabloids and they’re printing misinformation and why the fuck won’t you clear this up on your twitter account.

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

“Shit”, Michael sweared under his breath, then out loud, when he recognized the two guys following him the past 20 minutes or so were indeed the paparazzi people.

Normally he wouldn’t mind. He was a big name in music industry and he lived in west Hollywood, being followed by paparazzi was kind of his life now. Sometimes he even gave a smile or exchanged a few words with them, it was good to hold his down-to-earth and easygoing image. But not today.

Today was the wedding day of his ex band member, Max, to make things even bigger, he was marrying Michael’s very good friend Liz. He was supposed to be the best man or at least BE at that wedding. But he wasn’t. Because fuck Max. Fuck him so much.

His publicist wouldn’t let him use the “fuck Max” card as the reason why he didn’t show up at the wedding, which was a shame, because really, fuck that guy. But his publicist was also his sadist sister so he didn’t have a say in this and now he was “doing rehab” and he “could only love the people around him AFTER he loves himself first”. Honestly, with all the bullshit Izzy came up with, she should be in politics rather than in showbiz.

The bullshit now didn’t have a leg to stand on though, since he was apparently strolling down the streets in West Hollywood, sober as ever. Maybe he could act like he was drunk and failing rehab? It wouldn’t be his first rodeo. And he was just about to do that when he noticed one of the paparazzi guys was clearly attempting to approach him and ask a million questions.

Fuck, he could maybe pull off the drunk act from a distance, but up close? He was a musician, not an actor. He didn’t even do his own music video.

He needed to duck into some place, and he needed to duck fast.

So he entered the first shop he saw, without even noticing the name of it, which turned out to be a book store. And oddly, no one else except for one guy was in it.

Said one guy called out the moment he was in. “Sorry, we’re just about to close for the day. A private book club is gonna start in about an hour. And we need to prepare for it.”

The guy stood in the back of the store, half in shadow. But his voice was both smooth and sexy, Michael was suddenly very interested.

“By ‘we’ you mean you and your imaginary friends, right?” He smirked, taking off his cowboy hat, and flashed his million dollar smile.

“No”, the guy said, slowly, and he walked out of the shadow, a dog trailing after him, “by ‘we’ I mean my beagle and me. And OUR imaginary friends.”

For once, Michael had nothing witty to say back, because never mind the guy’s voice, he was GORGEOUS.

He was wearing a striped button down, some black pants, seemed casual but they hugged his body in all the right places and highlighted his strong biceps and perfectly round ass. He also had full lips, cheek bones that were practically sin materialized, and a pair of the most empathetic and expressive eyes Michael had ever seen. But beyond that, there was something about this guy that pulled at Michael. He was never one to believe love at first sight, but at that moment, he was inclined to at least consider it.

Then the guy widened his eyes, and said: “Oh my God. You are Michael Guerin.”

So this gorgeous man was his fan. Michael didn’t know how to feel about it. But the star-instinct kicked in, and he replied, fan-service smile firmly in place: “Yes, in the flesh. You wanna do a selfie together? I can sign it for you.”

The guy snorted. Honest to God snorted. Michael felt a bit insulted. “No, I mean, you’re Michael Guerin, the one Maria wouldn’t shut up about.”

And the realization hit Michael. “You are Alex? Alex Manes? The one Maria said would be PERFECT for me just because you named your book store ‘A Book Store’ and I named every albums of mine ‘An Album”, ‘Another Album’?”

“Hey, don’t you forget ‘Yet another Album’ and ‘The Fourth One’, they’re equally important.” Alex deadpanned, eyes twinkling.

Came to think about it, love at first sight DEFINITELY had its appeal.

Michael couldn’t help himself, he stepped forward, wanting to continue the conversation while being near Alex. He was too busy staring into Alex’s eyes to notice the pile of books on the floor between them.

He tripped over the books, lost his balance, and was caught by Alex’s strong arms. All in all, it was very romcom-y.

Except when he steadied himself in Alex’s half embrace, looked up at him, their faces only an inch or so apart, there was a flashlight through the window, and when he turned around, a camera was pointing right at them.

To make things worse, because Alex was also startled by the flashlight, he turned to Michael, and their lips somehow touched for a millisecond.

A second flashlight.

When Michael hurried to the door, the paparazzi guys were already gone.

He sighed, and turned to Alex, whose relaxed demeanor was also gone, instead he appeared angry and tense.

“Sorry about that...”

“They are not gonna publish that, are they?” Alex interrupted him, impatiently.

Michael was a little hurt by that, what the fuck. He didn’t even know the guy!

“Don’t worry”, he turned cold too, “my publicist will take care of it. And even if she couldn’t, I can just post something on my Twitter account to clear the whole thing up.”

Alex pinched his nose. “I’m sorry if I’m being a little harsh. But I’m a private person, I don’t want my face on some tabloid and be recognized on a daily basis just because of some misunderstanding.”

So he did know what a big name Michael was. Interesting.

“Like I said, don’t worry about it.” And with that, he was gone.

——————————————

The headline of the tabloid next day read “Drowning in alcohol? More like drowning in love! Ex-‘The-Aliens’ lead singer turned solo Artist Michael Guerin avoided his ex band member’s wedding for the search of his own love story.”

It was a mouthful, not to mention totally untrue. But Michael stared at the picture they used, and ignored Izzy’s angry yell.

They didn’t use the one they accidentally kissed, just the one when Michael almost fell and Alex caught him.

He was looking up at Alex, a little startled, but he was also smiling a little, as if saying “hey, you caught me”, and his eyes were full of adoration.

Alex was smiling too, some amusement in his expression, but he was also very gentle and soft, his left hand was on Michael’s right arm to steady him, his right was in the air, near his hair, as if he was about to brush his messy curls behind his ears.

They appeared so loving and sweet Michael almost stopped breathing for a moment.

He didn’t try to clear it up using any social media.

———————————

The call came on the third day after the “incident”.

“Why the fuck haven’t you done anything to clear that up?” Alex said, without a hello.

Michael, being the little shit he was, naturally replied: “Who is this and how do you get my personal number?”

“Cut the bullshit, Guerin”, wow, so when Alex was angry, he sounded even sexier. “Maria told me you had already asked for my number when I asked her for your number. You probably knew it was me from the first ring. So don’t stall, answer the question.”

“You know, Maria told me you’re ex military. A captain even? Any chance you might wear your uniform someday? Combine that with your commanding voice, maybe I’ll do just whatever you want me to do.” He was not even joking.

Alex was silent for a minute. Then he said, low and sure. “If you want me to bend you over my lap and spank you, you’d have to be a MUCH BETTER boy than that.”

Michael was suddenly having trouble sitting down, his jeans tight, hands sweating, he choked out: “How better?”

“Clear the damn mess up, Michael.” He hung up.

————————————

After Michael finally came clean about the whole encounter via twitter, he received a text from Alex.

“Good Boy.”

A second text.

“Friday night, 2100. My place.” He didn’t give the address.

No matter, Michael would be there, like the good boy he was.

[doorsclosingslowly]

Do You Remember the First Time?

A Dregs member with a grudge, a cruel ambush—but to Kaz’ luck, a boy named Jesper Fahey has just joined the gang and he happened to tag along.

3.1k | pre-Six of Crows | warning for attempted rape, violence, ableism

By the time the door closes, it’s too late. Kaz is curled belly-down on the floor just past the entrance in a room with Beertjie and his mates Kert, Frans and Sonna, and Beertjie—well, he’s a much better actor than Kaz gave him credit for. Or Kaz is still more naïve than he believed—it’s probably both—but before two seconds ago when the truncheon hit his head, he never expected Per Haskell’s old enforcer to pull this off. The man’s neither creative nor ambitious enough. He’s been with the Dregs for longer than Kaz has been alive, and he’s still occasionally pulling bouncer duty when Haskell doesn’t need a brawler to second for him: Kaz, meanwhile, in less than three short years, has worked his way up to doing the accounting for all the Dregs’ gambling halls. He’s working on building up Fifth Harbour. Kaz has plans.

If this trap isn’t Beertjie’s own idea, though—then whose? Kaz has watched him, and he doesn’t have any contacts outside the Dregs. Outside his three accomplices, really, and a couple of bar men. It could’ve come from the boss, but Haskell’s at least clever enough to know that he needs Kaz.

So what—

“Nothing to say now, you little brat, eh?”

“I’m trying to understand how even you could be stupid enough to attack Per Haskell’s favourite second.” Kaz uses the lowest rasp his teenage voice will go to. “Give me some time. It’s an enormous amount of stupidity to tally.”

When in doubt, rile up. Kaz isn’t holding any cards at all right now—he doesn’t know who ordered the hit, he’s outnumbered and outmuscled, Frans over in the corner has his foot on Kaz’ cane and his hand on a gun, the three new Dregs who accompanied them—who lulled him into a false sense of security—they’re on the other side of the locked door, plus they might be in on the attack anyway, and when Kaz blacked out from the truncheon for a second someone locked his hands behind his back in some iron contraption, not Grisha thank the Saints but unfamiliar enough that he’ll need a few seconds to unlock it.

When all their attention is on him—and by his position, his back— they’ll notice if he fumbles a lockpick from his coat, but if they get angry enough… well, angry men make mistakes.

Unfortunately, angry men with truncheons also hit him in the head again.

“Is that your only trick?” Kaz smirks through the pounding blur in his eyes, not that they can see it when he’s face-down in the dirt. Beertjie’s not worth straining his neck to look up. Still, it doesn’t hurt to keep the acting impeccable. “No wonder you never got further than bouncer.”

“Thieving little bitch. Just ‘cause you suck Per’s cock just right doesn’t make you a big man,” and Beertjie’s genial ruddy cheeks are stained crimson with hatred now. “Stick to your books, cripple.”

So that’s what this is about: jealousy.

“If you’re worse at your job than a fifteen-year-old with a bum leg, I’m sorry to say, that reflects more on you than it does—”

Another blow, this time to the back. It glances off, no real damage done, and Beertjie’s even terrible at his actual job. He’s losing his cool.

So is Kaz, unfortunately, although he has enough sense to conceal his growing unease. No matter how subtly he wriggles his hands, the shackles are ratcheted too tight to slip out, so tight he’s starting to lose circulation. It might not even suffice to dislocate a thumb. He’s trapped. New plan. So if he’s going to stay prone and tied up and unarmed and anger’s only making Beertjie hit him more, that does not rob him of all his weapons. He’s talked his way into and out of far more dangerous situations before. Threats? No, Beertjie doesn’t have any connections outside the Dregs. No spouse, no family. Extortion? He doesn’t have any secrets either, save the insecurity he just revealed. He does jobs for Haskell with his buddies, he drinks in Haskell’s bars with his buddies, he plays poker in Haskell’s bars with his buddies. He’s a profoundly boring man. Maybe that’s why Haskell has kept him for so long: boring men provide no leverage, much to Kaz’ current detriment.

The next strike is to Kaz’ bad leg. Another, same location. Then the healthy one. Not enough force to break bone, but still, it hurts enough that he has to bite his lip to stifle a moan, and worse yet is the way Beertjie’s bending over him in order to aim. The bouncer’s got enough core strength that he doesn’t need to prop himself up, doesn’t need to touch Kaz with anything but the truncheon, but—every rush of air from the body above him makes his heart jackhammer. He screws his eyes shut. It’s hard to think of a plan, now; hard to even have the presence of mind to be grateful his humiliating position is hiding even more humiliating panic. Another strike. Another close movement. He’ll lose another leg. Another—

“Everything alright? We heard scuffling.”

The screech of the door as it opens wider—the pain as it hits Kaz’ bad leg—Beertjie cursing as he hurries out of the way, and then three pairs of footsteps. The new Dregs. Kaz swings his throbbing aching good leg until he’s turned on his side—the wrong one, he still can’t see any faces—but though that would’ve been useful, he doesn’t strictly need it. He knows the new Dregs. He recruited all three of them, and that interruption was Jesper Fahey’s voice. Jesper is the newest, and the one with the most potential.

Their presence makes the whole unfortunate situation slightly more embarrassing. However, any mix-up also presents new opportunities, and Kaz just has to think…

“Hey. I’m talking to you.” Jesper, again. Insufferably confident for a teenage dropout gambling addict with debts in the thousands of kruge watching the person who recruited him a month ago get roughed up by a washed-up old guy.

So confident it even catches Beertjie on the back foot. The man opts for nonchalance. “Fine,” he says. “Just teaching a little rat some respect.”

The constant references to his height are starting to grate uncomfortably against Kaz’ skin. Sure, he’s almost fifteen and still hoping for another growth spurt, and the malnutrition of a Barrel kid probably didn’t do him any favours if he was ever meant to grow up tall, but in Beertjie’s wide mouth, the word takes on a more dangerous hue. Something predatory.

“Well, I was. Seems like he needs something a little bigger than a truncheon to teach him some respect. Something to replacethat stick in his ass.”

The implication alone is enough to leave Kaz’ reputation in tatters. If this gets out—if the young Dregs leave, and he wants them to leave now, but he can’t—none of this can leave this room, ever. Kaz can’t see the obscene leer on Beertjie’s face, but he doesn’t need much skill to imagine it. He can feel the movement of his vicious greedy eyes deep in his bones, can feel them travelling through his layers into his skin, and he’s wriggling in his fetters with more and more urgency. He’s managed to pull a tiny lockpick from his shirt cuff during the beating, and with just a little time he might be able to…

“Got any room for one more?”

It shouldn’t feel like a betrayal. There is no honour among thieves, and the Bastard of the Barrel’s only friend is his vengeance, but still. The new Dregs were supposed to be his. Jesper was supposed to be his. After all, it was Kaz who saw the potential in the Zemeni gambler in the first place. His quick, easy charm, his steel under pressure, his skill with a gun.

And Jesper is not as subtle as he probably likes to think, when his eyes keep flickering down to Kaz’ mouth—yeah, Kaz knows about the crush, even had vague notions on how to put it to use, but somehow, he’s never expected the other boy to just want to take what he’s been denied. Stupid, stupid.

Kaz led him to the Dregs. He had great plans for the boy. Had. Jesper’s going to die bloody. What a waste.

Something about his loathing must have bled through in Kaz’ posture, because Beertjie chuckles.

“Brekker makes his enemies quick, eh?”

Jesper laughs, too. It’s a grating sound, somehow: Kaz has heard him laugh often at the gambling tables, doing trick shots, making friends, and that’s what helps him pick out the new nuances. This laugh is breathy, high, almost hysterical. He sounds like it’s slowly sinking in what he’s planning to do. He sounds terrified. Good.

“They’ll remember your death in Ketterdam for decades,” Kaz vows. It’s all he can do, because the lock still won’t give in. “Centuries. It’ll be so gory and painful they’ll use it to terrify their children into submission. If you wanted your name to become immortal—well, congratulations, Jesper Fahey.”

“I’d like to shut his smart mouth,” Jesper says, his voice still wrong and shrill. “Stuff it, if you catch my drift.”

And then, Jesper’s on his knees next to Kaz, heaving him up. Kaz refuses to be of help, until one of the hands holding up his clothed upper arms moves down to the knee of his bad leg to bend it. Heavy boots move closer as if to offer help, either Beertjie or Sonna or young Peer, and that’s—it’s too much, not when Kaz still hasn’t found a way out of his handcuffs, not when he knows what’s going to… thank the Saints he’s still clothed and he won’t get torn bare this soon, won’t have to endure as much skin touch anywhere except his head and that’s bad enough, though at least it will thoroughly spoil their fun when he spews vomit all over…

He bites his lip bloody to halt his thoughts. There’s still time to escape. Maybe on his knees, picking the lock will be easier. Maybe—it’s Peer who came up pull him into position, Kaz can see the boy now, and that’s too much, too many people around him when Jesper’s bad enough, and so he gets onto his knees of his own accord. Peer stays.

Jesper’s hands fondle Kaz’ wrists for a second. Even through the gloves and the shirt cuffs and the jacket and the steel shackles, the trembling touch makes Kaz sick.

The fucking traitor rises to his feet, and then he’s standing right in front of Kaz, so close Kaz can smell leather and gunpower and sour sweat, his groin right in front of Kaz’ face. His still-clothed dick, as far as Kaz can tell, is soft. Good. At least he isn’t enjoying this as much as he expected. At least this won’t even be worth it for him. For a fraction of a second, Kaz steels himself by imagining biting his way through that soft rat bastard belly and tearing out Jesper’s liver with his teeth. The blood. The screams.

Jesper, though, has other concerns.

“I guess you’ll be a biter,” he says softly, as if to himself. Kaz can see his eyes flick over to Beertjie, though: he’s playing to an audience, though for what— “I happen to prefer my dick attached,” and he pulls out a gun. Uses it to caress Kaz’ temple with a parody of tenderness. “You know what’ll happen if I feel a tooth. You can touch your stick now, boss,” even more quietly, and—

As if Kaz was gonna get off from this. Is if he’s going to let Jesper pretend it’s consensual, as if his arms aren’t cuffed behind him, as if—Jesper’s grey eyes are staring down past Kaz’ face even though his chin’s still raised, and despite himself, Kaz follows his glance.

Next to his knee, there’s the bottom end of his cane. It must’ve rolled over, and before he can bury the child straining to hold onto any security that drowned in the harbour years ago he’s reaching for it, and—his hand moves.

The cuffs are open.

They clatter to the floor before his hands locks around the cane, and Jesper spins around and shoots Frans right in the head.

Kert and Sonna are next, before they even manage to take a step closer; and Peer stumbles when Kaz’ cane meets his foot and dies when the cane meets his neck. Another couple of bullets for Beertjie. Screams. Otto the other new recruit desperately rattling the handle of the locked door and Jesper glances at Kaz and Kaz shakes his head and then the boy’s brain paints the door.

And Beertjie’s still screaming.

“I’m out of bullets now, boss. Only brought the one gun.” Jesper looks almost shy now, standing in the blood splattered room. It’s strangely at odds with the ruthless fighter he was a second ago; the eager rapist he—pretended to be, with admirable quickness of mind and acting acumen, for a few minutes. Now, he’s only meeting Kaz’ eyes for a fraction of a second and then glances away again, as if it was him who was humiliated here. As if—

“He’s yours, boss.”

As if he’s an eager cat who fetched Kaz his revenge and is hoping it’ll please him. Because Jesper shot Beertjie in both knees, Kaz realises. Deliberately. He shot him in the knees and left him for Kaz to kill, and it’s almost—almost—enough to paint over the terror and humiliation of the past few minutes. He was right. Jesper will be useful.

So he stands on his aching bad leg and his throbbing bruised good one and ignores his trembling as he works his way up, breaking bones, from the thighs to the arms and ribs and, finally, the face. The shaking’s just adrenaline, pleasure, leaving early. He’s fine.

Jesper is proving his mettle even more by studiously ignoring the way he can barely stand, can barely limp over to the door.

The door. That’s what he almost missed. The unlocked door that was locked when Otto tried to escape, and unlocked when Jesper got in, and locked before that. Just like the shackles were locked until they weren’t.

Jesper’s going to be very, very useful indeed.

+

It's been six days since The Event, and Jesper’s in the Crow Club, losing badly at poker. This time, he knew he was going to lose even before he sat down at the table, but his head’s spinning, and there’s something about the familiar banter and shuffle and the weight of the cards in his hands, the practiced movements, that often helps him think. That might help him now not lose himself in bouncing questions and worries left over from The Event, even if it’ll lose him a hundred kruge.

The Event. That’s how Jesper has taken to referring to what happened, even in the sanctity of his own head: because despite what happened in the leadup to The Event, he’s not entirely convinced that Kaz Brekker isn’t a mindreader Grisha, and if Brekker’s gonna murder him for—for pretending to go along with raping him, oh Saints—if Kaz is gonna kill Jesper as the last witness, well, not provoking him needlessly will maybe buy Jesper time to write a last letter or two to his Da.

So he’s waiting on hot coals, and drinking, and losing at poker, and not thinking about What Happened. Or What Didn’t Happen, because whenever it comes up Jesper’s been going along with Kaz’ version of events: that creepy old guy was a traitor who’d turned all the other guys to his side too, and Kaz confronted and eliminated him, with minor assistance from Jesper himself. If underplaying his own initiative, quick planning, superb acting skills and cool under pressure—not to mention his perfect kill shots, but then Kaz did go back and set the house on fire to get rid of the corpse evidence—if letting Kaz rest on what should rightfully be Jesper’s laurels is what gets him another lease on life, so be it. He’ll have more chances to prove himself. Unless Kaz murders him.

He doesn’t regret the impulse that made him save Kaz. It was wrong, what that creep planned, regardless even of the fact Jesper’s maybe a little only here with the Dregs in the first place because Kaz asked him and even that first time, he liked Kaz. Maybe Kaz would stop planning to murder him if he explained—but on the off-chance that Kaz hasn’t realized he’s Grisha yet, and Kaz hasn’t brought it up so there’s at least a possibility… He was close to picking the shackles himself, after all. On the off-chance he doesn’t know, it would be pretty stupid to tell him—case in point, Jesper’s still fifty-fifty on whether Kaz will murder him—but the only explanation for why he went along with the rape pretence in the first place is that he needed to get close enough to those shackles. Maybe Kaz will just calm down on his own. Fifty percent non-murder are still good odds, after all. Better than Jesper winning today at poker.

More worrying—and just plain unfortunate, because even if he’s fucked his chances now Jesper really does like the guy—is that Kaz hasn’t exchanged a single word in private with him. They’ve barely been in the same room, and when Jesper clapped him on the back two days ago the guy actually jumped. If it wasn’t for the fact that this is Kaz, Dirtyhands, Bastard of the Barrel, who did torture a man to death a week ago even if that guy deserved it and Jesper did help him, so he really can’t claim any white vest there—if this wasn’t Kaz, Jesper would almost think he’s afraid of him now.

So he’s going to get murdered by his crush who’s also scared of him. And he’s just lost another two hundred kruge. Life is great.

But when he’s waving to the dealer to signal he’s up for another round—it’s Tom today, who’s always nice to Jesper and kind of pretty but he’s definitely no Kaz, so maybe later once Jesper’s nursed his sore heart… But the dealer’s not even paying attention to him. He’s staring straight behind Jesper. Not even a chance of a rebound tonight, then. Saints, Jesper’s luck just sucks.

A hand raps on the table next to him. Slim fingers, black gloves.

“Fahey, with me,” Kaz rasps from behind him, closer than he’s been in a week. “Geels wants a talk. I need someone reliable at my back.”

Or, just maybe, Jesper is the luckiest man in Ketterdam.

[sunlightdances]

take my hand (when you can’t see the light)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Rating: PG-13 for like, 2 swears. Summary: Dean plays the knight in shining armor when you meet him by chance. Turns out you’ll meet him several more times. Everything happens for a reason, right? Author’s Note: This was supposed to be posted on Valentine’s Day, but we all know how I am with deadlines. Have some fluffy Dean to make up for it. Last year’s Valentine’s fic is here, but is unrelated and you don’t need to read that to like this one! Please excuse any tense issues - I changed it back to second person after a read through, so there might be some errors. Please don’t repost my work on any other sites including Wattpad, AO3, or other archiving sites without my permission! I don’t own Dean, Supernatural, or any other related characters. I also don’t own “Forever on Your Side” by Needtobreathe, which I used for the title.

It’s freezing outside, and your car is running on fumes.

You curse yourself for not having the forethought to get gas a few states ago when it was relatively warmer, and it just adds to the irritation buzzing through your veins.

Pulling up next to the last available gas pump, you jump out of the car and swipe your card. The machine beeps, and tells you your card can’t be read. Your stomach drops when you try to think about how much money is left in your account. You swear you had enough to get through this trip.

You swipe again, and this time it says, please see the cashier. “Oh, fuck you,” you groan, and the person on the other side of the pump from you looks up, startled.

“Sorry, not you.” You mutter, and feel your face burning as you quickly turn away and head inside to figure out why your card isn’t working.

Inside, you give some sob story about driving across the country, but the teenager behind the counter clearly doesn’t care. You don’t blame him, but it doesn’t help your situation. That’s until a hand sneaks around you from behind and places a credit card on the counter.

“Put it on this one along with pump eight.” A deep voice says, and you stiffen when you feel a distinctly male presence at your back.

“You don’t have to do that--” You start to say, looking over your shoulder to see the man from outside behind you. He backs up a few steps and you feel like you can breathe again.

“It’s no big deal.” He shrugs.

“I have money,” you blurt, wincing when you realize how defensive and stupid you sound.

The corners of his mouth quirk up in an amused smile. “I’m sure you do. Just think of it as me paying it forward.”

The kid behind the counter has already run the stranger’s card through the machine for both of you, so you have no choice but to stand there awkwardly until he tells you you’re all set.

“Well… thanks.” You say, and turn to head out the door quickly, trying not to prolong this embarrassment more than you have to. You want to get back on the road and this is already a longer pitstop than you planned it being.

Once your car is filled up, you sit back in the driver’s seat and check your phone. Ten unread text messages that you delete without reading, five missed calls, and a notice from your bank that your card has been put on hold due to suspicious activity.

You groan - you never even thought to let the bank know you were taking a trip, you just hauled ass out of town the first minute you could. Didn’t even stop to think of the consequences. You can feel tears welling up in your eyes as you struggle to think what you can do - you have a small amount of cash but not enough to get you where you’re going. The bank is closed by now, so even if you call them you won’t get your card turned back on until the morning.

You have absolutely no idea what to do.

A gentle knock on your window brings you out of your daze, and your eyes meet a pair of bright green ones, twin pools of concern. He gestures for you to roll down the window, and you do, but only halfway. He’s a stranger, after all.

“Are you alright?”

You huff a laugh. “I’m the farthest thing from alright. But I’ll be okay. Thanks again for the gas, by the way.”

He smiles gently. “I know how that goes. And it was nothing, really. Here--” he holds out a to-go cup of coffee, “You look like you might need this more than I do.”

“Thanks…”

“Dean.”

“Thanks, Dean.” You take the coffee from him and when his fingers brush yours briefly, you feel it zip up your arm. So cliche. You sort of hate yourself for thinking about it. “I have to go,” you say quietly.

He clears his throat. “Sure, sure.” He looks down at his feet awkwardly. “Drive safe.”

You watch him go to the other side of the gas pump and get in a sleek, black car. You sigh to yourself before putting your car in drive and hitting the road.

You give kudos to yourself that you only look in your rearview once.

.

.

.

After Dean’s been on the road for a few hours, he realizes he’s following the same route the girl from the gas station is, and he feels like a creep.

You were cute, but he tells himself to stop thinking about you. You’re clearly going through something, and he’s never going to see you again.

Even so, he wonders what you were running from.

Physically shaking his head to stop himself from letting his mind wander, he calls his brother. “Any update?” He asks as soon as Sam gets on the phone.

“No change. How long until you’re here?”

“Six or seven hours if I don’t stop.”

Sam sighs. Dean can tell he’s tired, though he knows his brother will never admit it. “There’s no rush, Dean. We’re just-- waiting. Take a break, get some sleep.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “I’ll see you soon. Call me if anything changes.”

He tosses the phone in the passenger seat after he hangs up and pushes the image of Sam alone at a hospital out of his mind, and pushes it even farther away knowing it’s Jody they’re waiting on, Jody who didn’t even get hurt from a job, but was in a car accident.

Surgery went perfectly, but until she wakes up, they don’t know much else.

It’s a shitty way to spend Valentine’s Day.

He puts it out of his mind the best he can and concentrates on the road. That’s when he notices a familiar car on the side of the road, flashers on.

He frowns. He paid for your gas himself, so he knows you’re not out of gas. Unless something else is wrong with the car. Weighing it for a few seconds, he pulls over behind you, not too close, and tells himself to stop overthinking it before he gets out.

Her door is already open by the time he gets close, and he sends you a small smile when you notice him.

“I just want you to know I’m not following you,” he says, and then quickly continues, “and I know that’s exactly what someone following you would say.”

You laugh, but it’s a little watery. “You seem to show up right when I need help, though.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I-- the car is fine. I just needed to stop for a few minutes.”

He sees the tear tracks on your cheeks but doesn’t say anything, doesn’t want to do anything to make you more upset.

“Valentine’s Day really blows.” You say finally, and Dean laughs, your words echoing his own thoughts.

“Definitely.” Dean opens his mouth to keep talking but his phone rings, shattering the moment. “Sorry, hang on--” He digs his phone out of his pocket, seeing Sam’s name flashing on the screen. “Yeah?”

“She’s awake. Going to pull through.”

The relief Dean feels is physical. He lets out a sigh and the tension seeps off him. “Good. That’s-- kick ass, dude. Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He hangs up and looks back to you, an apology on his face.

“I have to go. If you’re okay…”

“I’ll be fine, Dean. Thanks again.” You say, a little sad maybe, but the sorrow that was on your face when he first saw you on the side of the road isn’t there anymore. You tell him your name, “-- by the way, just in case we run into each other again,” and then with a wink, you’re back in your car.

Dean is a little awestruck, but with another laugh to himself shaking his head, he gets back in the Impala and continues on, finding himself wishing the passenger seat wasn’t empty.

.

.

.

You make it across the state again before you stop for food. Only a bit of cash left, you decide to go to the closest grocery store and get something from the ready-to-go section instead of going the fast food route.

You feel a little better. You’re still getting texts and ignoring calls from your now ex-boyfriend, but you’re finding it easier and easier to press the reject button every time. Your heart doesn’t hurt quite as much.

Digging through your wallet for cash as you walk through the doors of the store, you run right into a solid mass of a person, an oof leaving your mouth as you regain your balance.

A rough voice says your name, and panic rushes through you before you realize who it is.

“Dean?”

“Now who’s stalking who?” He asks, tone light, corners of his mouth twitching.

“This is getting a little weird, dude.”

“You’re telling me,” he agrees, and your eyes shift to the flowers in his hand.

For some reason you feel a little bitter about it. It’s Valentine’s Day. Of course he’s buying flowers for someone. A guy who looks like that? Who buys strangers coffee and gas? Definitely not single.

“Late gift pickup?” You ask, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

He scratches the back of his neck with his free hand, “For a friend, yeah. She was in an accident. On my way to see her.”

“Oh,” you feel like a total jerk. “Sorry to hear that.”

“She’s going to be okay. But thank you.���

An awkward silence settles over the two of you, but this time it’s your phone that breaks the silence. “Oh, for fuck’s sake--” you say, pulling your phone out just to turn it off. You’re so tired of this.

“Someone special?” He asks, wry, and feels relieved when you laugh, even though it’s more distressed than anything else.

“Unfortunately.” You don’t know why, but you feel like telling him everything. You didn’t tell anyone before you left except your roommate, so she wouldn’t think you were murdered or something. “Came to my boyfriend’s to surprise him for Valentine’s. Turns out he found someone else to spend the day with.”

Dean winces. “What a dick.”

“I packed up pretty much everything I owned and just… left. I moved to that town because of him. I had my job because of him. I just had to get out of there.” You swallow hard, feeling like you’re going to cry again. “I have no idea where I’m going to go and my card got turned off. I’ve got a hundred dollars to my name.” You sigh, meeting his eyes. “Sorry - you have a friend literally in the hospital. I shouldn’t be complaining.”

Dean’s eyes are so intense as he takes in what you’ve told him. You wonder if he knows he’s got this effect on people.

“Come with me.” He says. He too, looks a little surprised.

“What?”

“You can stay with me. Since you don’t have anywhere else to go. I just have to stop at the hospital first, if you don’t mind going with me--” He shakes his head, “Sorry, I-- we don’t know each other. But I have a house, a big house, and there’s extra room if you need it. At least until you’ve got some cash again.”

You hesitate, of course - he’s a stranger. But-- something tells you that you can trust him, and you have no other options, really.

“Okay.”

Dean smiles. “Okay.”

.

.

.

This is probably, easily, one of the stupidest things Dean has ever done.

Sam is going to give him so much shit, but as he looks in his rearview to check that you’re still behind him, he can’t help but smile when you give him a little wave.

You pull into the parking space next to him at the hospital, and he gestures for you to follow him through the large double doors at the entrance.

Inside, he finds the room number Sam sent him, and knocks lightly on the door when he gets there.

“Dean,” Jody says quietly from the bed, her voice a little rough.

“Hi,” He says, grinning at her. “Glad to see you’re awake.”

“Sam said you drove all night to get here.”

“Was finishing up--” He stops, remembering your presence at his back, “-- a job. Otherwise I would have been here sooner.”

Sam clears his throat. “Got anything else you want to share?”

You snicker, and Dean bites back his smile. God, what is it about you that makes him feel lighter than he has in years?

“Hi,” you say softly, introducing yourself.

“She needs somewhere to stay for a few days.” Dean says, hoping his tone is firm enough that he’s not going to get shit about this from his brother.

After some small talk and a few pointed looks from Jody, she announces that she’s tired and that Sam and Dean should go get some rest. Dean turns to you.

“I’ll meet you in the parking lot,” you say, “too many hours on the road.”

Dean is the last one to lean in and give Jody a hug, and after a second’s hesitation, he grabs a single flower out of the bouquet he got her.

“Smart guy,” Jody whispers, and Dean rolls his eyes playfully.

.

.

.

You can’t believe this place.

This is where Dean lives. With his brother. This giant, amazing place.

You have a thousand questions, and Dean promised he’d answer a few, but more than anything you need to take a nap.

You do, and when you wake up, there’s a single red rose on the table by your bed.

Happy Valentine’s Day - DW

A giddy, schoolgirl-like feeling comes over you as you read the note, and you find yourself feeling excited and hopeful for the first time since you left your house in a heartbroken daze. It feels like years ago.

When you find your way to the kitchen and see Dean and his brother there waiting for you, near identical smiles on their faces, you start to think you could get used to this.

The unknown doesn’t feel as scary as it did yesterday.

[pokefarm-q]

firewolf1117 refuckingceipts (it's all been removed now but people archived it)

this bitch:

When you say “All Cops are”, here’s what you’re really saying:

All Blacks are Criminals All Mexicans are Illegal All Americans are stupid, fat, and lazy All Rape Victims are liars All Suicide Posters are Attention Seekers All Muslims are Terrorists All LGBT deserve to die

Are you outraged yet? GOOD.It means I touched a nerve.

You would never, ever, EVER say those things about those groups of people because you KNOW that it’s not true, even in the slightest. There are so very very FEW Cops who are actually corrupt and using their power and position inappropriately.

So what gives you the right to say the same about cops? COPS! Who are practically SOLDIERS! EVERY DAY their family lives with the fear that they won’t return. EVERY DAY they put their lives in danger to PROTECT you! They, as a whole, deserve your RESPECT!!! MOST ALL “Brutality” cases are from the CRIMINAL fighting, disrespecting, grabbing a weapon, etc. If you’d just COOPERATE AND BE RESPECTFUL you’d be treated FAIRLY!! Cops don’t have the time to sort things out. Their snap second decisions PROTECT them AND nearby Civilians. You can’t possibly understand the FEAR AND TERROR they hold EVERY SECOND of EVERY DAY! So don’t you DARE judge them for mistakes.

and here’s the response of one brave user, this legend, this badass mofo, who replied to their bullshittery and got banned for a day for posting in the whiny crybaby bitch’s journal without permission:

Replying to this, because FireWolf1117 is intentionally spreading misinformation and hate. I don’t care if the staff is going to tell me off for this — for once, I care a little more about setting this right than following the Journal rule.

First of all, United States cops are legally not required to save civilians. It’s not considered unconstitutional, according to the case Warren v. District of Columbia (444 A.2d. 1, D.C. Ct. of Ap. 1981). To keep it short, cops can literally see crimes being committed and decide not to intervene if they feel like it. This has been quite common among police departments if you (objectively) compare the police’s actions during BLM protests and anti-lockdown protests.

Anyways, let’s get to your generalizing logic. I have to agree with you on one thing: generalizing is bad. No group should be generalized because of some rotten apples. However, this doesn’t count for cops. Here’s why not:

The police force isn’t a marginalized group. A police officer is a profession. A job. Cops are public servants. They work for the state, for the civilians. And that’s why they need to be held accountable for any misconduct they commit. Which is, unfortunately, is objectively not the case. According to statistics from https://mappingpoliceviolence.org, 99% of United States cops who have killed citizens have not been criminally charged, because police departments literally protect officers from getting tried. Of the 750+ shootings done by police this year, only four cops are getting tried. So much for “there are only a few corrupt ones”. Black people are also way less likely to carry a weapon compared to White people, while Black people get shot by cops thrice as likely.

What’s more, because the police force is a profession, people can quit being a police officer. This doesn’t count for most of the groups you mentioned: Black people can’t stop being Black, Mexican people can’t stop being Mexican, Americans can’t stop being American (also you including Americans kinda makes you look embarrassing lol no offense), rape victims can’t be ‘unraped’, Muslims (or even just Arabs in general) can’t stop being perceived as Muslims (even Sikhs get seen as Muslims nowadays…) and LGBTI+ people can’t stop being LGBTI+ (unless they discover they’re not). Police officers can literally take their uniform off and be perceived as normal human beings. As soon as they are on duty and take on their uniform, a huge responsibility awaits them. A responsibility that has been abused by them to the point that marginalized people will hesitate before calling the police, fearing that the police will either come too late or escalate the situation. Cops aren’t endangering their own lives. They’re endangering the lives of those they’re supposed to protect. No good person would shoot a man in his back SEVEN times for being 'aggressive’. No good person who claims to protect and serve would kneel on someone’s neck for eight minutes while that person was cooperating with them. No good person would shoot a completely innocent woman in her sleep because they raided the wrong house. (BTW, Breonna Taylor’s murderers are still walking free as if nothing happened.) No good person would shoot a 12-year-old kid for having a toy gun. No good person would kill a man in his car for… picking up his ID to show it to the cop. Just because you cooperate, doesn’t mean that you’re safe.

Your logic is clearly flawed, because you judge cops on their personality, and not on the bigger picture. All cops are “bastards” not because we see all of them are evil killing machines that shoot people on sight — it’s because they contribute to an oppressive system, whether it’s directly or indirectly. It’s more than 'just a few cops’: the government wants bad laws to be enforced, the prison system is getting used as a business model, minorities are forced to live in poor socioeconomic areas on purpose BY the government, gentrification exists, multi billionnaires are exploiting low-class working people even more, there’s a damn pandemic that’s not being taken seriously… And guess who’s at the front of keeping the fragile capitalist system intact? Right. The police. The face of the government, that’s laughing at Black people, people of color, disabled people, LGBTI+ people… No good cop exists, even if they’re nice to everyone. Good cops who speak out against the abuse of other cops get fired, because the police departments don’t want the truth to be exposed. If you truly want to be someone who saves people’s lives, then stop being a cop and get a better job, like a firefighter, an EMT, a psychologist… Anything that isn’t completely corrupted.

Even during the recent BLM protests, cops are showing off their power. They escalate situations without provocation more times than BLM protesters start shit. Also cops are committing literal war crimes by using tear gas and other chemicals against civilians (IT GOES AGAINST THE GENEVA CONVENTION FOR FUCK’S SAKE). Not so protective now, aren’t they? The only thing BLM protesters have hurt are cops’ ego. Trust me, protesters being a little mean to cops won’t ever be as bad as all the innocent lives cops have taken and covered up.

I want to go on forever, because I have a lot more to say (such as why “All Lives Matter” is reactionary and racist, how the police force was formed in the first place, how the effects of slavery and colonialism are still being felt by Black people to this day, how and why 'riots’ can be 'justified’), but I’ll leave it at this. At least I got to give counterarguments to your points. Take care and educate yourself! (Tip: stop watching FOX News and Infowars if you do that, you’re going to develop brainrot! ;__;)

ladies and gentleman of the jury, as you can see, this user not only came into this argument prepared, but they were civil and had links (that aren’t links now oop soz). they gave this bitch plenty of opportunity to learn and grow from this without attacking her.

but your bet your ASS the poor little white girl went crying to her daddy about people ATTACKING HER and BULLYING HER FOR HER OPINIONS!!!! she uses her anxiety as a get out of jail free card CONSTANTLY, bitching and moaning about how, and these are directly quoting from HER own journal:

MAY 29, 2020

I log in to this game to have fun and escape the stresses and problems of real life. I do NOT want to be going about my business, and see “BLM” in someone’s Trainer Card, and have to deal with a surge of overwhelming emotions (whether positive or negative). I simply cannot handle the Anxiety that results.

This is a GAME site. NOT a place to share your political, racial or other stances. PLEASE keep ALL such topics OFF this site. I understand you want to talk about them, and that’s fine. But out of respect for people like me, can you please do so in private with the people you know WANT to see and discuss it?

just admit you’re racist dude.

She uses CSS. SHE CAN FUCKING HIDE OTHER PEOPLE’S FUCKING CARDS. PEOPLE CAN TALK ABOUT WHATEVER THEY DAMN WELL PLEASE ON THEIR OWN DAMN PAGES. THE WORLD DOES NOT REVOLVE AROUND YOU.

Also! You know she only put “whether positive or negative” to quell any hate she might’ve gotten because ANXIETY is usually not a positive emotion. There’s not even a positive CONNOTATION. and she hopes to be published by the end of the year lmfao yeah right.

and then, on JUNE 16, 2020:

I WAS going to make a post in response to the most recent announcement, but now I’m just too frazzled and upset about it. Still making a post. I’ll just be posting it off site so I can say things how I want to say them, and so I don’t have any in game repercussions.

Honestly, though. I log onto this site to ESCAPE reality. I do NOT want to see ANY stance on ANY “cause” ANYWHERE. NONE OF IT BELONGS HERE. NONE!!!! Because of this “decision”, I’m going to make one of my own. I am gone from this site until current affairs are resolved. Heck. Perhaps even after. I will NOT be a part of a site that allows…Ugh. NOT going to get into this here.

but like… she came back a month later lmao

OH AND!! Earlier this month on AUGUST 6, 2020 she posted this!

It really breaks my heart seeing derogatory remarks against Cops in people’s Trainer Cards. It’s upsetting that you feel that way, and even more so that you make your hatred so vehemently known.

Personally, I don’t know why any of those Cop comments are allowed. If someone had something in their Trainer Card against Religion, LGBT, or POC, I guarantee that statement would be removed. So why is it alright for people to make hateful, vile, disgusting remarks against Cops? Despite it being someone’s personal opinion, it’s still Hate Speech, and shouldn’t be allowed.

this bitch is part of the lgbt+ community. she’s part of a marginalized group.

The “"derogatory remarks”“ she’s talking about? #AllCopsAreComplicit #CopsStinky #AllCopsSuck

which brings us back to Exhibit A, ladies and gentlemen! Her equating #AllCopsAreComplicit and #CopsSTINKY to "All LGBT deserve to die” and a Shitton of other stereotypes. Well fucking done.

Despite bitching and moaning about I DONT WANNA SEE ANYTHING, despite there being ways she can fucking hide it HER DAMN SELF she chooses instead to bitch piss moan bitch piss moan bitch piss and fucking moan and then when someone calls her out on her genuinely harmful bullshit, pulls the wounded gazelle gambit, claims she’s being attacked, and puts in her Card that “anxiety attack! again! waaaah!” like anyone has a shred of sympathy left for her ugly ass. She can’t handle looking like the bad guy so she plays the anxiety card. She bitches about never having any friends, only depression and anxiety, and it’s like bitch no fucking wonder.

Both the top posts have been taken down, but the user who responded to her has gotten nothing but love for her mad courage in saying something when no one else dared.

Firefurrywolf made a halfassed apology (August 30, 2020) which I won’t go into but there is one line that sticks out to me because it’s such a goddamn lie:

When I state my opinion, I usually do so with grace and eloquence. I did not think about my actions this time.

… do you?

This is a GAME site. NOT a place to share your political, racial or other stances. PLEASE keep ALL such topics OFF this site.

Do you… really?

I log onto this site to ESCAPE reality. I do NOT want to see ANY stance on ANY “cause” ANYWHERE. NONE OF IT BELONGS HERE. NONE!!!!

I don’t think so. You vile, disgusting, manipulative, obnoxious, PRETENTIOUS, racist, terfy bitch.

Oh, before I forget, yeah. Terf. She looks like one too. All over her insta. Gross.

NOVEMBER 19, 2019

My response to a LGBT post in one of my writing groups.

I don’t know most of these terms within the community. Don’t really care to know either, cause your preferences won’t change my feelings about who you are. I probably should, though, cause the Its and Xes really confuse me.

I knew I was a Demi-Ace for a few years. I’ve also known that I was Poly since I was early teens. But I’m also attracted to beauty and care more about who you are as a person than your preferences, so apparently I’m Panaesthetic as well?

Also firm believer of “True Love Knows NO Bounds”

Her journal got moved to 18+ because there was a post talking about sex. Might’ve even been alluding to rape. On a CHILDREN’S SITE. In her CHILD-FRIENDLY journal. It sat there for at least two months. TWO MONTHS. But I will not be posting that here, but it’s still there if anyone wants to snoop. All of this is public. Well, it was. But at least minors won’t be exposed to this histrionic little whiny whitey who is absolutely drowning in her white privilege.

Just because she changed her pfp from her face to a shitty drawing she did doesn’t hide the fact that she’s white, and the worst kind of person with little to no actual coping skills.

She claims to be an artist, a writer, all this, blah blah, but then why doesn’t she channel any of it into her work so she can get fucking better at them? She says she’s working on losing weight, so do that. Instead of shrieking and stomping your fucking feet like a toddler at the peak of their terrible two’s, throwing tantrum after fucking tantrum on a CHILDREN’S SITE about your shitty stances, go for a fucking walk. Punch a fucking punching bag. Literally anything else. You’ll feel better, you’ll lose weight faster, you’d be keeping your vitriol to your damn self and no one will “attack” you.

“Are you ourtraged yet? GOOD. It means I touched a nerve!”

She fucking wanted a reaction. But couldn’t handle it when she actually got one. I’m so embarrassed. Grow some fucking thicker skin, you’re older than I am. Grow a pair and shut the goddamn FUCK up.

For now, the evil is defeated, and I rest my fucking case.

[lumiolivier]

The Good Old Days Chapter Four:  I Quit!

ICYMI:  Chapter Three:  Abuela’s Food Truck

A/N:  Hi, friends!  Here we are.  Another day.  Another week.  Another chapter.  And this one is 100% turning point.  And it’s beautiful.  So, as always...Feedback is appreciated.  A like...A reblog.  Just a little something, something so I know this isn’t a waste of time?  Please?  K, bye! x

Later that night, it was that time again.  Time to walk into the fire.  We could manage.  If all else fails, I’m sure there’s a cool guy willing to buy us drinks again.  But since there’s money in our bank accounts again, we could probably stand to buy our own.  Regardless, it was yet another night at the salt mines.  And a little positivity could go a long way.  If we go into this pissed off and bitter, people are going to pick up on that.  And I don’t need to bring that kind of energy.  I didn’t hate all of the staff.  Most of them weren’t exactly on my good side, but not all of them were terrible.  

 Then, I got to my first table of the night.  And they weren’t assholes.  I’ll take that as a win.  My next table?  Not miserable.  Ok. Things are starting to look up. But then…Toward the end of my shift. There they were.  Again.  They came back.  And they were in my section.  Fan…fucking…Tastic.  Still, I slapped on that fake ass smile they wanted to see.  Because god forbid I come off like I’m pissed off to see them.  Of course not.  Of course I’m happy to see you.  Because you coming in here means I get paid.  That correlation fucking sucked.

 “Oh…” she got one look at me and instantly turned her nose up.  Awesome, “It’s you.”

 “It’s me,” I confirmed, “Welcome back, ma’am.  How may I help you?”

 “Can you find me a new waiter?” she scoffed, “One that’s a little more competent than you?”

 “I am competent, ma’am,” I kept my cool.  Don’t let her piss me off.  Don’t let her piss me off.  Don’t let her piss me off.

 “If last night was any evidence of that,” she rolled her eyes, “I wouldn’t say so.  If you were in one of my restaurants, I wouldn’t have hired you in the first place.”

 “I’m sorry.” That you ever crawled out of the primordial ooze, “Now, other than a new waiter, how may I…?”

 “I want a new waiter.”

 Santa Maria, Madre de Dios.  Ruega por nosotros pecadores.  Ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerté.  Amén, “You were seated in my section, ma’am.  I’m sorry, but I can’t get you a new waiter.”

 “Then, we’re leaving.” Good fucking riddance.  She says she’s leaving, but she didn’t even move.  I wasn’t stopping her.  If that’s the case, then what the hell was she doing?  Other than terribly bluffing.

 Then, as if the night couldn’t have gone further downhill, my manager came over, “Is there a problem here?”

 “I want a new waiter,” the woman stood her ground, “I don’t care where I’m seated. I want a new waiter.”

 “Of course, ma’am.” Spineless prick, “Frankie, can I see you for a moment?”

 “Sure,” I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.  I followed him into the kitchen.  Oh, shit.  This can’t be good, “What’s up?”

 “This is the second night in a row I’ve gotten complaints about you.” Taking me over his knee in front of everyone would’ve been less demeaning, “And from the same person!”

 “She’s a prime example of the customer not always being right,” I bit the inside of my cheek in attempts to not blow right the fuck up about her.

 “That’s not part of our job, Frankie,” the manager scolded me, “Our job is to keep them happy and keep them coming back.”

 “It’s not part of our job to become their best friend,” I grumbled.  

 “If it was,” he went on, “I would’ve fired you by now.”

 “Look,” I swallowed my pride, “I need this job.  Don’t let this one customer be the deciding factor.”

 “You got one more chance, Frankie,” he sighed out, “If I hear one more peep out of that woman because of you, you’re on your ass.  I don’t care how bad you need this job.  I want you to buddy up to her like your life depends on it.  Because by the sounds of it, it does.”

 In that moment, I wasn’t sure what snapped in my brain, but when I opened my mouth again, what I intended to say was some sort of empty apology and to go back out there. However, that wasn’t the case, “I quit.”

 “What?”

 “I quit,” I spoke a little firmer.  That felt kind of good.  I untied my apron and dropped it in his hand, “I fucking quit.”

 “I thought you said you needed this job.”

 “I thought I did,” I beamed, “But I don’t.  It sounds like you need me more than I need you.  I fucking quit!  I don’t have to stay and deal with this bullshit anymore.  Fuck her.  Fuck you. Fuck everyone here I don’t share blood with.  Later, bitches!”

 And just like that, I walked out.  I was done. My last shift was over.  And I was done.  I had a feeling that if I were to come within a hundred feet of this place ever again, it’s going to be a police escort off the property.  I didn’t care anymore.  I was done.  I didn’t have to deal with the bullshit anymore.  I was free.  When I slipped into the alley to wait for César and Tony to finish up for the night, I put a quarter in the payphone outside and pulled out that business card.

 “Hello?”

 “You gave me your number, Old Man,” I couldn’t wipe the fucking smile off my face if I wanted to, “The least I could do is call, so you’re not waiting for the phone to ring.”

 “Frankie!” he chimed on the other end.  Oh, that just put a good feeling back in my heart.  The only thing that would make it any better would be if Abuela’s truck came by. But this would do, “How you doing, kid?”

 “I’m in,” I told him, “I’m so fucking in.”

 The other end was quiet for a minute.  Ok…Good feeling slowly going away.  Say something, Old Man.  You told me to call you when I was ready.  Just fucking say something, “And your brothers?”

 “Not sure about them yet,” I admitted, “But I know I’m in.  And…Uh…Before I’m completely in…”

 “What is it, Frankie?” he worried, “Everything alright?”

 “Everything’s fine,” I wasn’t sure how true that statement was.  I did just quit my job.  Out of pure anger and a snap decision.  But I also had this in my back pocket, “Are you busy tomorrow night?”

 “Can’t say I am,” the Old Man told me, “Why?”

 “My…” This was going to sound so stupid.  But whatever it takes, “My mother wants to have you over for dinner.”

 “That’s not a problem,” he allowed, “What time should I be there?”

 Holy shit. I wasn’t expecting that to go over so well, “Uh…Eight o’clock?”

 “I can do eight o’clock,” the Old Man confirmed, “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

 “Ok,” I nodded, “See you tomorrow night.”

 Slowly, but surely, I hung up the phone.  What the fuck just happened?  Hold on, Frankie.  Back track here.  One minute, you were dealing with the woman with the stick in her ass.  She wanted a new waiter and you weren’t having it. Mostly just to piss her off because you’re occasionally petty.  Then, your manager pissed you off even more.  You quit your job because of you being pissed off.  You called the Old Man.  And…Now, you’re having dinner with him and Mama tomorrow night.  My head hurts.  I needed painkillers.  And a lot of them.  We’ll start with aspirin and work our way up to morphine.

 “Hey, Frankie?” César came out first, “You alright, hermanito?  You seem like you’re about to kill someone.  Or like you’ve seen a ghost.”

 “A little bit of both actually,” I sat on the back steps, “Watch your asses in there. I just quit.”

 “Are you serious?” he gasped, “Frankie, why would you do that?”

 “I wasn’t dealing with it anymore,” I did all I could to keep myself from crying, “Fuck this place, César.  I’d love nothing more than to watch it burn to the ground, but I don’t have to deal with it anymore.  It was either I quit or I get fired because of the same woman that was trying to get me fired last night.  And I’ll be damned if I let her get the satisfaction.  I called the Old Man.  Everything should be fine.  He’s coming for dinner tomorrow night.”

 “So Mama can meet him,” César figured, “Did you tell him you’d take the job?”

 “I don’t have much of a choice now,” I shrugged, “It’s either unemployment or employment.  I don’t know about you, but I got a good feeling about taking the job with the Old Man.”

 “We’ll see what Mama has to say about him.”

 “The hell are you two doing out here?” Tony joined us, throwing on his jacket.

 “Waiting on your slow ass to get out here,” I jabbed.

 “Are you alright, Frankie?” he wondered, “I heard people say you were blowing up on the manager and that you walked out.”

 “I quit,” I filled him in, “I got something better lined up anyway.”

 “The Old Man?”

 “Hope so.”

 Just like any other night, the three of us hopped the subway and headed home.  I’m not going to miss this.  Not in the least bit.  If the Old Man lets me work in the Narrows, I’d be spitting distance from home. No more subways.  No more buses.  No more public transit.  I wonder if the Old Man would let me take his town car every now and then.  That’d be pretty cool, too.  Now, I just needed to tell Mama we were having company tomorrow night.  

 “Mama?” I went in first and did a quick look around, “We’re home.  And on time.”

 “Welcome home, mijos,” Mama greeted us from the living room, “Cómo te fué en el trabajo?”

 “Long,” Tony threw himself into the armchair.

 “Tiring,” César took the other end of the couch.

 “It’s funny you ask, Mama,” I bit the inside of my cheek, “Do you remember me telling you about the man from the restaurant?  The one we had drinks with last night that wanted to help us?”

 “Si.”

 “I talked to him tonight,” I went on, “Is it alright that he’s coming for dinner tomorrow night?”

 “That’s fine,” she allowed, “I’m glad you took my advice, Francisco.  I’m glad one of you listen to me.”

 “We listen to you, too, Mama!” Tony whined.

 “Antonio,” Mama hushed him, “I know you do.  But sometimes, tu hermanito listens a little better.  Isn’t that right, mijo?”

 “I do what I can,” I kissed her cheek, “I’m going to head to bed, ok, Mama?”

 “Ok,” her hand immediately went to my forehead, “You’re not getting sick, are you, Francisco?”

 “I’m alright,” I assured her.  I knew better than to tell her not to worry.  She’d beat me senseless for saying something so stupid.  But I digress, “Good night.”

 “Good night…”

 Today really did kick my ass.  And it went by in a blur.  I still had a hard time believing I quit the restaurant.  I didn’t realize it’d be that easy.  Fortunately, I had something else lined up.  As long as Mama liked the Old Man, I’d be golden.  If she didn’t…Well…What Mama doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?  And as long as he came through on our deal.  Tomorrow couldn’t get here fast enough.  So, I shut my eyes and hoped for the best.

 The next morning, I got up bright and early.  I knew Mama would be up, too.  She didn’t have to work today, so we had all day to do as we pleased. Although, I knew I’d have to break the news that I don’t have a job anymore to her eventually today.  She’ll start to wonder why Tony and César are going to work, but I’m sticking around home.  There’s no way I took tonight off just because the Old Man was coming to dinner. She might kill me for it, but I’m sure the new job will be much better than the old one.

 I looked over at my brothers’ beds and sure enough, they were still sleeping like babies. Aww…Every part of me was wanting to wake their asses up, but they had a long shift to put in tonight without me. Instead, I covered them both up a little better and quietly closed the door on my way out.  And they seem to think I’m the one that needs to be looked after.  Sometimes, I do, but nine times out of ten, these two would both be dead without me. I seem to remember a time when I had to stop Tony from walking into oncoming traffic.  Regardless, I walked into the kitchen and found Mama already at the stove.  I love her.

 “Buenos dias, Mama,” I kissed her cheek and got the coffee pot going.  

 “Buenos dias,” she gasped, “You’re up early, Francisco.  I would’ve thought you’d sleep until at least noon.”

 “Guess I’m just up early,” I shrugged, peeking over her shoulder, “What do you have going on?”

 “You said we were expecting company tonight,” Mama reminded me, “I thought I’d get an early start.”

 “You wouldn’t want a little help, would you?” I offered.  It didn’t matter what age I was.  Cooking was one of those things that always came naturally to me. Why?  I don’t know.  But I didn’t care.  Because I could still cook like a dream.  That’s something that would never go away.  And Mama knew that.

 “I’d love a little help,” she allowed, “While you and your brothers were shopping yesterday, I should’ve had you get some rice.  We’re completely out.”

 “Really?” That never happened.  Ever.

 “Nothing,” Mama showed me the end of the big ass bag of rice.  With no rice in it.

 “I’ll go get you some, if you need it.”

 “No, no,” she stopped me, “I’ll go get.  You stay here and keep an eye on things.  Make sure nothing burns.”

 “Got it,” I let her go off to the store and stayed behind to watch all the pots boil. Oh, Mama…You overdid.  I mean, I understand you want to go all out with your cooking when we have people coming over, but you didn’t need to go this hard. Bless this woman.  May no misfortune ever befall her.

 By the looks of it, she’s got churro dough started.  Muy bien, Mama.  Muchas gracias.  I know what I’m having for breakfast.  All it needed was to be piped.  The oil was hot enough.  Why not? I scooped the dough into a piping bag and started squeezing the dough into the oil.  Sweet Jesus…There were few things as satisfying as the first churro in the oil.  And Mama’s churros rarely disappointed.  She had something secret in the dough and she’d take that secret to the grave with her. Even I didn’t know it and I knew all of Mama’s cooking tricks.  Her churro recipe, though?  Way too coveted.

 “Buenos dias, hermanito,” César stumbled into the kitchen, still half asleep and admiring the small accumulation of churros cooling off to the side, “Hell yeah, Mama made churros.”

 Just as he went to reach for one, I immediately slapped the back of his hand, “No.”

 “Ow!” he nursed his hand, “What the fuck, Frankie?  You still have a whole fucking bag of dough yet.”

 “You know damn well Mama knows exactly how many this dough is going to make,” I shoved my finger in his face, “If one goes missing, she’s going to be pissed.  Do you want to throw off Mama’s rhythm?”

 “God no…”

 “Alright then,” I went back to making churros, “Besides, those are still probably pretty hot.  They just came out of the oil a couple minutes ago.”

 “Speaking of Mama,” César sat down at the kitchen table, “Where is she?  There’s no way in hell she’s still in bed.”

 “She had to make a grocery store run,” I told him, “Apparently, we were out of rice and no one knew it, so she went to get some.”

 “Oh, I can’t wait to come home from work tonight,” César swooned, “The best part about us having company.  Mama cooks. And cooks more than what the four of us could possibly eat.  We eat like kings for the next week.”

 “Or your lazy ass learns to cook,” I teased him a bit.

 “Why would I do that,” he retaliated, “when you’d do all the cooking for me anyway?”

 “Because you wouldn’t do it right,” I rolled my eyes.  Both Mama and I had a thing when it came to the kitchen.  No one dares use it other than us, “I wouldn’t trust you ten feet in front of a microwave, let alone actually attempt cooking.”

 “Thanks, Frankie,” César made his coffee, “Love you, too.”

 “If I didn’t love you,” I argued, “Would I be doing this?  Would I have beaten you for the sake of you not burning yourself on churros?”

 “Valid point,” he gave me an appreciative nod.

 “Good morning…” And there’s the other one.  I was wondering how long it would take them to wake up once Mama started cooking.

 “Morning, Tony,” I grabbed a cup for him from the cabinet and handed it off.

 “Bless you.”

 “I do what I can,” I went back to the churros on the stove.  Mama always said to keep cooking them until they float.  Then, take them out of the oil.

 Oh, tonight was going to be a night.  I could feel it already.  My bones wouldn’t lie to me.

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S4 Ep 24: Someone Actually Called the Cops.

So recently I was like, “I should do something different than my usual” and I decided to open up a little thread for critiquing ppl’s short stories, and I kid you not, the very first story I got was someone’s Seto Kaiba erotica. Which, even in erotica form, did not have very much romance in it. So, now that Yugioh will apparently haunt my every waking move forever until I die, lets get back to S4. Lets desperately get back to canon. I miss canon.

Last we left off, Kaiba lost KaibaCorp...again. Really feels like he loses this company once every couple of years (weeks if we count season 1-3). Except, this time, Dartz didn’t read the fine print in the legal files that says the company must be run by a member of the Kaiba family. While that was a huge plot point with Pegasus, turns out that Seto and Mokuba’s memories have been blended so thoroughly, like a very fine Shadow Realm smoothie, that they just...forgot.

And like I’m positive that Roland remembers, but Roland’s not gonna say something and accidentally reveal he’s the 4th Kaiba brother and have to get abducted all the time and actually work for a living. Anyways, they forgot why Pegasus abducted them in the first place in Season 1, and honestly, so did the writers of this season 4 years later. Not like it mattered, because if Seto and Mokuba did take Dartz to court, the world would end before their case would even start.

Which is how, after one talk with Roland, Seto and Mokuba just sort of laid prone on the metaphorical ground and let it wash over them that yes, KaibaCorp is gone.

I really like this extra-long helicopter, PS.

Both members of Kaiba’s Sunglasses Army decided to align themselves with Kaiba, although honestly, I don’t think anyone else in this company has realized that they’ve been bought. It happened...1 hour ago. Like what do you even do if your company randomly gets bought in the middle of a workday? Like no lead up, no indication, just BAM you’ve been bought?

And if Duke works for Pegasus who got bought out by Dartz and then Dartz bought Kaiba Corp-------What does that make Duke? Is he gonna have to start wearing sunglasses inside?

Anyway, Roland knows better than to tell Seto Kaiba he doesn’t work for him anymore while still in the same helicopter as Seto Kaiba, who already crashed one plane today and will crash yet another plane before this episode is through.

(read more under the cut)

Seto decides to align with Yugi since he needs to confront Dartz eventually. Which is when we find out that Seto always planned to align with Yugi and was just giving him a really hard time.

Because over the last several episodes, Seto has had an entire team at this random museum in Florida in order to take some pictures (that really should have already been on the internet but wtv, it was 2003 so maybe it wasn’t?)

It’s like most of the way through s4 and the biker ninjas still send me. How did he make SO MANY biker ninjas? At what point was Dartz like...and now...all my mooks...will be ninja bikers. Or orcs. Mostly Ninja bikers.

Did Alister or the others ever tell him “hey, Master Dartz, I get that your 10000 years old but like...do you not understand what a biker is?” and was Dartz like

“clearly bikers are the most evil thing in the world, obviously.” completely unaware that most bikers are just 45 year old accountants.

In these scenes we also get a gander at their laptops and, if you ever want to see high level life crippling OCD anxiety in picture form, it’s illustrated very clearly right here:

Not only did they draw this keyboard in 1 pt perspective, they used like a ruler to draw all those letters so they were the same size. Some artist put so much time getting this nice and crisp and smooth...and then this happened.

And I’m pretty sure they died after that. I’m pretty sure this scene killed an artist.

It’s at this point that Yami kinda puts two and two together and was like “WE BOUGHT PLANE TICKET’S, YOU ASSHOLES.”

(It’s been such a long time since we’ve seen Mokuba smile like this, and it’s because he’s been hiding the fact for So Many Episodes that he and his brother prepped like hours ago to get this huge dunk on the rest of the party. He just wants to dunk on them so bad. Look at him. His company was bought today. BUT he gets to spend time with his bro dunking.)

Serious question, will Delta refund your flight if the Great Leviathan appears in the sky and tries to eat your soul to reboot the world from the ground up?

Of course not. They will never refund your flight. Trick question.

We switch back over to Rebecca and Duke, who have been absent from this show for so long, I actually forgot what Duke’s name was and had to think for like...5 entire minutes until I remembered that his nickname sounds like a poop and I was like “oh man, what name of poop would it be???” and then I recalled “Dookie. Yes. His name is literally Dookie. Wow that took way too long!”

Then we start a story arc I’d to call “My Kingdom For a Sharpen Filter” where, much like King Lear, the Yugi crew splays themselves on a battle field just strewn with different ways to sharpen an image, but can’t for the life of them use any other one, but the one deep in the heart of what is now DartzCorp.

And so yes, we are going to fly to San Fransisco, hop into ye Olde KaibaCorp, and log into proto-Noah in order to read a language that Arthur Hawkins can already read.

This is nonsense, but they put it there because it’s something to do. And honestly, it’s not a card game, so I’m down for this change-up. Lets go visit a version of Noah’s brain. At least they won’t drop an orichalcos for the 12th episode in a row.

On the way, Seto decides to try and egg on Yugi.

This backfires as you expect it will because Yami doesn’t freakin care. Like he’s not Yugi, he doesn’t care who the King of Games is, he harnesses freakin Dark Magic. The Wizard never cares if he’s King Arthur or not, and in fact, he probably prefers it....

..................Except in that spinoff where they had Yugi as a reincarnation of King Henry VII.

...................................................never mind.

And then Seto Kaiba says this actual line and I just...

WH.

WHHH

WHAT?

This entire show is just watching Yugi desperately cling to his scary ass hobbies. The tagline of Yugioh is “1001 reasons to go back to school and get a real job.”

What does Kaiba think Yugi does when he’s not around? Does he actually think Yugi attends school or sleeps at night or works an actual job? Like...he thinks Yugi has...NO HOBBIES.

Very interesting insight into what Seto considers a hobby and not hobby.

Especially since this Yami, who spends most of his spare time farting around his scary ass brain castle and getting lost. Occasionally he is forced on a date with Tea and wipes minds. That’s it. That’s all the things Yami does outside of hobbies.

Anyway, what is Dartz doing during all of this?

After this, Dartz pulls back the literal curtains on this room to reveal these candles that each hold the soul of someone he’s murdered.

There are not NEARLY enough candles for this segment.

A very brave man to have candles littered on the floor when his hair is down to his ass and all of his mooks have floorduster coats.

I really want to know what the local arts and crafts store thought when Dartz strode in there and bought every single tiny styrafoam skull during the Halloween sale and was like “can I put souls in these? You sell the kind I can put souls in, right?” and then immediately pulled out like a dozen 50% off coupons like a complete asshole.

Anyway, using this candle hocus pocus, Dartz uses the Orichalcos powers to take advantage of something Yugi did in the first episode. We distantly recall there was a giant eyeball in the sky--turns out if you bust up the eyeball with, lets say, a card that has a dragon on it, the eyeball will explode into many tiny Orichalcos pieces that will fall all over planet Earth.

So apparently Yugi didn’t save anyone at all when he busted that eyeball, because he instead set in motion Dartz’ evil plan to eventually use these many tiny Orichalcos pieces like the one seen here, to kill the hell out of people.

Good job, Yugi. Too bad you missed the Actual Bakura.

In fact, actual Bakura is probably the only one who survived this incident because I guarantee that Ryou Bakura is too busy eating all the contents of his fridge out of stress. He’s probably opened his window at this point, seen the crazy lights in the sky and in the street and was like  “Blooooooody nope nopenopenopenopenope” and just locked the windows and doors, turned up Hercule Poirot to max volume, and stuffed his face with cookies.

(Or biscuits, I guess.)

WELL.

I don’t know how to tally that.

Yugioh not only broke the tally I was using to measure the distance they spent commuting this season, it also broke the tally on the amount of people who have died on this children’s show.

That’s a really big number.

We’ve had real duel monsters for a couple weeks but youknow...this time they’re extra, extra, extra real. More so than the last times. Also they’re all Orichalcos versions of their cards so their extra edge now. They’re the hot topic versions of what were already pretty hot-topic ass cards.

MMM. We come full circle, back at a dock, a warehouse, and some huge ass boat.

Right where we belong. Where all friends meet, where we can all finally be one.

Yugioh found one of the only cities that has a very famous and tourist heavy pier/warehouse district in it just so the Yugi gang could finally feel comfortable in their natural habitat. HOWEVER, there’s just one tiny problem in this scene, and it’s that it’s not overlaid with the actual soundscape of a SF pier, which is that of 100000 screaming seals

I don’t have a seal problem, you have a seal problem.

Anyway, the only healthy adults here attempt to follow the children into danger but someone on the animation team was like “we just lost the keyboard drawing guy to that capslock! We cannot lose any more interns to a crowd scene with 9 people in it and 2 dead bodies!” and they uh...

And we immediately eject Roland and whoever that weird sunglasses guy is out of the script. Mokuba gave them a longing glance as they helicoptered away. Maybe because he missed his Dad stand-ins that he went through such efforts to call in the first place. Or more likely, because Mokuba would have preferred to be on that helicopter and far away from whatever the hell is going to go down on this dock.

Honestly the rest of Joey’s storyline this episode is him going rogue because of Mai rage, and it both comes out of nowhere and also seems very on point for him.

Meanwhile, Rebecca’s unbridled rage towards Yami Muto is still low key hilarious to me.

Witness the only character here who thinks Yami should suffer actual consequences and witness Yami just appear to not give a single damn about it.

Nearly spat out my own drink watching this.

The...

...police...

...exist in this universe?

Anyway, while Tristan and Tea try to locate a payphone to dial 911, Seto and Yugi decide to invade Seto’s own company by going through an elevator that you have to reach through the sewers.

Straight up I don’t think SF even has sewers. At least, not in the sense that you can walk in em like New York or Paris or other cities that have sewers. Our sewer systems are very small cuz we got something called “liquefaction” which means our ground is so soft (and artificial--a lot of the land is fake), that when there is an earthquake, certain parts of the city will...liquefy. It’s Terrifying. We kind of...avoid going and building underground except in certain stable places. (like even BART gives me the heebies.)

I just have a very strong distrust of basements, caves and other underground places in general and it’s not because of spiders, or ghosts or whatever, I’m just afraid of faultlines. It’s like having an active volcano, but you just don’t see it, and we haven’t had a Big One since 1989 so...any day now (I mean, 2020 has been such redic content, that I think we’re finally ready)

Again, Japan has way more intense Earthquakes than we do, and yet they have a billion underground subways and very, very tall buildings, so like, this is mostly a big cultural difference between the two of us. And the bedrock. They probably have better bedrock than we do (honestly, I just have no idea).

MASTER HACKER SKILLS.

Almost as good as that time he hacked into Pegasus’ company by dropping a satellite on it. I’m starting to think Seto actually doesn’t know how to use a computer.

Anyway, Seto is faced with...real cards, real monsters, indisputable evidence, and he decides, it’s time. It’s time to finally face facts.

So, while these two are just flinging cards around willy nilly, Tea and Tristan are ...actually talking to police.

4 seasons. They’re actually doing it.

Although, TBH, they probably should have gone to the Japanese Embassy first? Just throwing that out there.

Ah Yugioh, the only kids show around that tells you point blank not to trust cops. Timeless.

U.S

In some weird underground earthquake hazard, Rebecca proves that she is smarter than Seto Kaiba. She’s maybe even the smartest person on this show. Nice that we gave her nothing to do this season but pine over Yugi who is already taken by Tea who he is also not even dating.

Not that I love Rebecca or anything, I actually have a hard time with her voice, but like...they really dropped the ball on Rebecca.

If she does end up joining Kaiba corp as their back up Felicity Smoak while Seto just runs around aimlessly punching stuff that really is just offbrand Arrow but with cards. And with slightly less resurrections.

So, lets get a gander at that computer.

We didn’t get to see Kaiba pull out 12 other discs to complete the installation process for these all these Hard Discs. Maybe the lure of throwing a very aerodynamic CD across the room like a paper card was so strong that his dev team forced him to switch to these defunct squares?

PS, I am a true millennial, OK? But, I don’t remember Hard Discs.

Hard Discs were SO long go. I stopped using these damn things in Elementary school. The last Hard Disc I ever touched was in college, when I had to put my art portfolio on a disc to submit it to my degree. I don't know even why. Everyone had a mac, so I knew no one’s computer in the department even...HAD a disc drive so it was like...whomst among you has this damn computer from 1997? Whomst among you is still using Windows 95? WHY would I put IMAGES on a floppy when I can just email them to you?

Anyway, I had to get a USB hard disc reader, and to get that reader, I had to call my Dad who had legacy software because he’s a computer engineer, and he had to mail it to me.

In that same portfolio review, PS, I also had to submit my portfolio as slides.

I didn’t even know where to produce slides so I had to ask all these old people and go to the last photo processing store on earth to get digital pictures turned into negatives and then turned into freakin slides.

SLIDES.

I honestly think they just did that to weed people out of the art degree.

Anyway, I tell you this story just to say that there is no way in hell that Kaiba was using a hard disc during the height of the CD era. We were CD or go home since 2000. We had pretty decent jump drives at this point. We had wifi. It was realllly bad wifi, but we had it. Your phone could connect to the internet. It would charge you 50 bucks, but it COULD connect.

Who on the Yugioh team DID this?

Anyway lets see these pictures that for which, we spent thousands of dollars in unused plane tickets, destroyed a Caltrain, killed 2 ancient Atlanteans (and their dog), killed 3 random mid-villains, walked across the entire Peninsula, crashed an international plane, and left both the plane and the train to rot gas fuel into the nearest lake which is right next to a ghost graveyard?

Yeaaaaaaaaaah!

Like he reads it and is all “They’re gonna resurrect Atlantis” and it’s like WE KNOW. Dartz and his hooligans have talked about starting their Utopia to reboot the world since Gurimo. Since Day 1.

Man.

Anyways, there was one plus to the pictures, and it was that Seto Kaiba recognized the Oricalchos logo.

just...

The Oricalchos logo is...

...This logo, Seto?

You...didn’t recognize...seriously? Not until just now? You have been inside of this logo, rearing to lose your soul to Alister 2 times, and he only recognized it...just now.

I mean Seto takes a while y’all. He’s a genius, but his memory is so, so bad, that he will Eventually get smart, but you have to wait until like episode 24. But he’ll get there. Just gotta be patient.

And, when he saw it, he wigged out in a way I wasn’t prepared for.

Y’all I feel like I’ve seen to many weird zooms on Kaiba’s crotch in this show. Or just in life in general, especially after that surprise fic. That’s all.

I don’t know why everything exploded, but maybe the logo is cursed in the same way as God Cards? I dunno.

Anyway, this is when Dartz shows up with his brand new dog.

So they run outside onto the roof.

Now listen, does every Kaiba Corp building need the same weird ass roof? Is it like a McDonalds?

Because I’m just picturing this type of roof in SF and I’m having a time.

Forgive me if I made this lemming joke already. He’s just stood on a cliff’s edge so many times I can’t keep up.

RIP Dragon Jet, who took us from S3-S4, you’ll always live on in our memory, you glorious, wasteful, beautiful death trap.

Seto and Yugi are fine by the way, they just kinda jumped out, as you do when you’re an immortal god possessing a small boy and a...whatever the hell Seto is.

It’s at this point we reintroduce Valon because Joey went rogue and has decided to take on Dartz by himself. This is what happens when Tristan leaves the party. You always need Tristan to hold back Joey by his armpits to keep him from fighting random people.

So I guess Valon’s gonna die next episode. That’ll be nice.

What’s great about this show is each arc is just watching each villain die. You know they’ll die. But...how much?

Anyway, that’s all for today. I’m still drawing a hell ton of stuff so I don’t know when the next update will be...but just now I haven’t dropped off or something. I’ll...eventually get to it.

And if you just got here, this is a link to read all of these in chrono order.

Anyway, I mentioned Hercule Poirot, (because watching a hell ton of BBC was how I spent time with my family when I was a kid, and my very Southern Grandma freakin LOVED Hercule Poirot) So here is the best subplot of that show, which is David Suchet eating stuff.

And which doesn’t want to embed for some reason. Probs can’t embed more than one video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=17antzzJrzQ