#if it pulls nice or crunches good its enough for me

[crocutacanidae]

apple.

[sttoru]

hmmm what if gym sex with gym owner/instructor toji fushiguro. you know, they be fucking by machines and stuff 🫨🫨🫨

𝐒𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 . . . !

⟣ sypnosis. you thought it’d be just another day of you at the gym with your gym instructor, toji—though things were quick to escalate into a different kind of ‘workout’.

⟣ tags. gym instructor!toji fushiguro x female reader. exhibitionism, public, p in v unprotected, standing doggy ig, spanking, hair pulling, teasing, sprinkle of objectification / degradation, creampie, no to little aftercare, kinda pervert!toji as well. reader gets called ‘doll’.

⟣ note. yummyyumyummm.. this made me think of this ask t sent me & this fanart i need him so bad t_t not proofread btw. !

you were a newbie to the gym—your usual workouts consisting of the most simple sets; jumping jacks, burpees, crunches, squats, planks and push ups. an acquaintance of yours attends the same sports club and recommended you a certain gym instructor who works there most of the time.

his name was toji and apparently was good enough at his job for many other gym attendees to hire him in. you did the same and had started a few sessions with him earlier that week. toji was patient and quick to give you the needed feedback and advice on your workouts — a nice guy.

though, he did seem a bit intimidating, especially due to the fact that he was extremely bulky. your stomach did a flip once you first saw that dark-haired man.

the black tank top he wore almost every other day, his muscles that flex with each movement, the scent of his cologne you could smell whenever he got close and nonchalantly adjusted or corrected your form; that guy was more than simply attractive.

as your mind wandered and daydreamt about your gym instructor, your body was doing its needed squats. up and then down, inhale and exhale, tense and relax—you were on autopilot.

what you didn’t notice, due to the music blasting in your ears, was that toji had been wandering around the area. it was almost time for your own session with him where he’d do some cardio with you.

toji sipped on his water bottle, lazily approaching you from behind, your backside towards him. he looked around for a bit—this specific section of the gym was nearly empty at this hour of the day. except for you, him and. . . a random guy who was lifting weights in a far away corner.

toji’s eyes couldn’t help but flicker from your exposed shoulder blades to the curve of your ass whenever you squatted. it was very much intentional; not for the sake of checking on your squatting form, but more for the sake of his own needs.

it was like that almost every time he’s training with you—the gym instructor cannot resist the urges of subtly checking out that body of yours. more specifically, the curves of it. he could get a bit handsy when teaching you how to get the gist of a certain exercise.

you were a bit oblivious to this, because you thought that it was simply just toji doing his job. gym instructors were meant to help you along the way—instructing somebody and helping them get into the desired position by appropriately touching their body was part of that process. . . right?

you don’t know, but you also didn’t care. his touch on your thighs when he was correcting your form that other day, the way his big and veiny hands were gently holding your flesh; it was just way too appealing. even if he was doing his job, there was an undeniable attraction hanging between the two of you.

you couldn’t even count the many times where you ‘accidentally’ bumped into him at the gym just to hold a short conversation. toji’s eyes were everywhere—the sight of you out of breath, sweating whilst trying your best to look pretty when talking to him stirred his loins.

the dark-haired man knew you purposefully come and talk to him after each session. he knew that you always try to look confused in the gym when experimenting with a new machine just to catch his attention. toji knew all about your ‘innocent’ acts and yet he was falling for them. hard.

you were too good at that game of seduction and if it wasn’t for him risking the loss of his job, he’d have fucked you long ago. he’d have satisfied both your desires right at the gym with everyone seeing—he craved for a taste of you. he needed it. sooner or later.

so, toji took his chance. ‘it was now or never,’ he told himself as he approached you from behind. his presence was only sensed by you when his hands came in touch with your body.

one hand pressed onto your lower back slightly, the other on your upper thigh, fingertips digging onto the fat to help it slightly backwards, pushing your hips towards him—

“how many times do i have to tell ya, hm?” toji’s raspy voice whispers in your ear, his figure looming over yours making you feel caged between him and the treadmill you were facing whilst squatting, “arch your lower back just a tad bit more, push y’r hips back properly—mhm, jus’ like that. good, very good.”

you surprisingly do as told even whilst you were caught off guard by toji’s sudden appearance. your heart was beating out of your chest by the proximity of your bodies like this; your palms were getting sweaty. and not from your workout.

“y’re definitely gettin’ the hang of it.” your gym instructor comments, a faint hint of pride in his tone. he retracts his hands from your body, however not before teasingly letting his fingertips brush against the bottom of your ass, feeling up its shape in that single second of contact— “how’s your workout been today?”

you knew that touch was intentional. there’s no other explanation to the lingering stare on your ass as well. his eyes shamelessly took in your thighs and hips as if he wanted to be all over them, to touch them like he’d longed for so long.

“good. was about to take a break.” you reply. truth was, you weren’t. you only said so since toji was chatting with you at the moment.

there was an evident tension between you two—the way you took a sip from your water bottle whilst your pretty eyes were focused on toji’s ripped physique, your gaze that darted from his eyes to his lips, chest, lower body and back up. . . that game of seduction had gone on for way too long. toji had to have you. right here, right now.

that’s how you ended up clinging for dear life onto the treadmill in the corner of the building, your leggings and panties pushed down to your knees and toji behind you with his hands using your hips as leverage—his cock finally having a taste of your warm insides after all this time of fantasising about it during your lessons with him.

“fuck. . knew this pussy’d be fuckin’ tight—almost can’t move due to how much y’re squeezing me, doll.” the man’s rough voice spoke out whilst your wet folds were spread apart to fit his cock all the way in, his size massive to the point it almost hurt, “there you go, takin’ it so well.”

your walls clamped around his dick like you didn’t want him to ever move out of you—like this moment was all you had wanted from your encounters up until now. toji curses under his breath at the sight he’s finally seeing;

you trembling whilst he was balls deep inside of your greedy cunt that swallowed every single inch, even if it stung. what made it even better of an achievement was the fact that your ass was properly in his view now, fat jiggling with each press of his hips against it.

“hnngh—fuck me.. ah, please!” your stifled moans almost make toji’s eyes roll back. he loved those sounds of pure pleasure that escaped your lips—the ones which you couldn’t contain behind that hand clamped around your mouth.

it was risky after all; fucking in an open gym. you didn’t know if that one guy on the other side of the area had already left or not. you couldn’t see through all those machines and pillars obstructing your view. you just went with the logic that if you couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see you.

toji—being the absolute tease that he is—had seen your eyes wander across the section of the gym you were in. oh, he didn’t like it one bit that your attention was on anything other than him and his dick slamming into your sloppy pussy;

he stopped his movements and torturously slid his cock out of you until the head was all what was left inside, prodding into you every now and then like he was going to slam it back fully, only for nothing to occur. toji bit the inside of his cheek; rough hand landing hard on the left side of your ass, the other side getting its turn a second after you whimper.

the process repeats which makes your back arch deeply, hips instinctively moving back and then forwards—basically fucking yourself on his cock. toji liked that desperation in you. that’s what he wanted to gain out of his actions.

“hah—ya can push those hips back properly now, ay?” your gym instructor exhales through his nose, hand traveling from your ass to your hair, yanking that low ponytail of yours back. his sharp eyes scanned your backside as if you were a piece of meat, his hips grinding against your ass, kneading the flesh with his pelvis, “remember this when y’re squatting again—the position of your back like this, the slight arch—fuck.”

even in a predicament like this, toji used it to teach you about your form during your squats. not that you knew what that man was saying. you were too focused on the way he was slowly stroking his dick in your pussy, wanting the tip to reach the deepest parts.

“shiitt,” toji sighs before a noise—almost a low whistle—forms in the back of his throat. the pleasure kept building up inside of him and he knew that he could cum just by a bit of grinding against that plump flesh of your ass, his balls rubbing against the curves of it, “this body of yours ‘s gonna make me lose my mind, doll.”

but, toji didn’t want to end it with that. he was here to give you the pounding of your life—teach you another lesson which was unrelated to your workouts; the lesson of what happens if you try to seduce a man like him.

toji wastes no time and grabs your hips again, angling his own to hit your g-spot with each rough thrust once he resumes the movements. each press to that sweet area makes your legs shake, lips moving frantically, though only incoherent and slurred words leave your lips in quiet moans;

“nghh! toji, ‘s too good!” you whine, your own hand still clamped around your mouth to keep yourself quiet. you were always vocal during sex, but it was a bit risky to let yourself go in a public space like this, “mmph!”

though, with the fact that you were getting the pounding of your life right now, there was no denying the fact that it was impossible to stay fully quiet. a few lewd moans escape—toji tugging at your hair each time as a warning,

“sshh, don’t w’nna get me fired, do ya?” the man behind you grins. he isn’t even worrying in the slightest that this moment was probably getting caught on the cctv camera footage in the gym.

toji could easily get rid of those himself since he works at the gym and has some internal connections, but it’d make it all so difficult if somebody were to catch you in the act, “if ya keep quiet, we’ll do this more often, yeah?”

you shiver at that promise. you could already imagine all the times you can have toji to yourself in the future; how he’ll press you to a bench and fuck you—or maybe he’ll even take you in bathrooms. it was such a turn on. that’s all what was needed to shut you up in an instant;

“good girl.” that gruff voice murmurs once more, the pressure in your stomach builds, the coils forming threatening to snap any minute now for both of you. toji’s self control was hanging by a thread.

that same thread snapped in half the moment you let out a whiny and vulnerable whimper in the form of his name. with one hard thrust, toji presses his hips firmly against your ass, grunting as he makes sure to dump his load the furthest he could—the warmth of the sticky liquid filling your senses eventually stimulated you enough to reach your own climax.

“easy there, doll.” your gym instructor thrusts once, twice before pulling himself out of you, leaving the mixture of fluids leaking down by your legs. he huffs at the sight, taking it in for a couple seconds whilst kneading your ass between his fingers.

toji grabs a tissue he had somewhere in the pocket of his sweatpants and wipes his tip before tucking himself back in his boxers—pulling his pants up and readjusting his appearance like nothing ever happened.

toji puts the used napkin in your shivering hand and nods at you. you were a pretty thing whilst fucked out of your mind, that he could indeed confirm in a singular moment of eye contact.

he sighs and leaves you to fend for yourself as he starts to walk towards the stairs that lead to the third floor, probably to take care of something. you never know what he’s up to when he’s not in the gym—a mysterious man.

before the gym instructor vanishes, he does leave you a hushed message on his way to the staircase, head cocked to the side to look at you from his peripherals whilst he walks;

“clean y’rself up and continue with your work out. will be back in a few to check in on ya.”

[ohimsummer]

✎ . . .❝ WHO DID IT? ❞

—poly!satosugu xmas shenanigans, satosugu x reader, justice for satoru he just wanted to make candy canes !

The day was going well. Splendid, even. It’s almost Christmas, and the chilly weather makes sure to remind you, flakes of snow peppering the ground and crunching beneath your boots. You’ve completed the task of some nice, last minute shopping for your husbands’ students, picking up some coffee orders, not forgetting a few of Gojo’s favorite desserts from that same coffee shop, and then you were back home in no time. Walking inside, you’re engulfed with a feeling of warmth and coziness, the smell of sugar with a hint of peppermint permeating in the air. Your call of ‘I’m back!’ suspiciously goes unanswered, but you assume your husbands are either distracted or out of earshot.

The honeyed scent of sugar grows stronger as you enter the kitchen, setting bags of gifts and groceries on the floors and countertops. Speaking of countertops…your brows knit, mouth agape in absolute shock as you really take in the center of what was once gorgeous marble. You hear Gojo’s boisterous laughter in the living room, Geto’s faint conversation underneath, and make a beeline straight for them. Upon your arrival, Geto spots you first, and the wide-eyed glance he shares between you and Gojo is very telling.

It’s a simple question.“Who did it?”

And yet getting an answer, at least from one of them, is like pulling teeth.

Satoru halts mid-sentence, turning to beam innocently at you, ignoring the bitter look in your eyes, out for blood. If Suguru’s simmering glare at his idiot counterpart is any indication, then you’ve already gotten your answer.

Said idiot is so good at playing dumb, as if something like this isn’t obviously his doing. “What’s wrong, baby?”

A small breath of exasperation leaves Geto as he takes in the interaction. He thinks Gojo is really in for it this time, he can tell by your body language alone that you’ve got some choice words for this man. Maybe you’ll actually kill him this time. Geto chuckles a good riddance, so low even he can barely hear it. Can’t afford to show too much amusement, lest he get caught in the whirlwind of your fury.

Your foot taps, impatient. Brand new countertops. Not even a month old, they told you to consider them as part of an “extra early Christmas gift”. Ruined with large, faded, circular marks right in the center, on display, and faintly reeking of peppermint.

Suguru grows hot as your furious gaze shifts to him, finger with a mind of its own as it points to Gojo. “He wanted to make candy ca–“

“What the hell, I thought we had an agreement?”

“I’m not taking the fall for this with you over that dumbass idea.”

“Dumbass? You were on board when I suggested it!”

“And that was my mistake for assuming you’d done more than five minutes of research and knew what you were doing.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to get in the spirit of Christm– ow!”

The sharp pinch on his ear leaves Satoru yelping like a hurt dog, stumbling along as you drag him into the kitchen, and Geto takes extreme joy in the small snippets of Gojo’s excuses as he fails to plead his case.

“Baby, my extremely beautiful, lovely, gorgeous wife, I just miscalculated a little, a tiny mist–“

“Mistake?” With your incredulous tone, one can only imagine the look on your face right now. “Look what you did to the countertop, Satoru, don’t come in my damn kitchen tryna be a professional chef or candy maker or whatever!”

A groan. “Technically,” and Suguru cringes immediately, head sinking back on the couch. “It’s all of our kitchen.”

The immediate silence afterward is heavy enough to weigh down a bear. Followed shortly by Satoru’s meek “Ya know what, you’re so right, baby. Your kitchen.”

[walsuf]

"...and what brings you here?" asked the paladin, his chest still heaving. His breaths were visible in the crisp morning air, puffing out in thick clouds and dissipating into nothing. His sword was jerkily pulled out from the mountain beast he'd just slain, and was almost immediately dressed with an off-colored cloth to wipe it clean.

Dark Choco watched him with a minor look of disdain and next to no interest in answering back. He kneeled down to pull his pack out of the snow where he'd abandoned it earlier, and dusted it off with a few firm pats. He replied, "That's none of your business."

The paladin furrowed his brows, and not a moment passed before he spoke loudly again, "Well, I'm sure it must be a noble cause, whatever it is."

Dark Choco paused, recalculating. "...Noble?" What the hell would give him that idea? Last Dark Choco recalled, he was anything but that. His past was long and convoluted, and he'd prefer to keep it out of the way as he travelled. Digging up old memories wasn't exactly a fun experience.

"Yes, you're a knight, are you not?" The paladin asked, scanning Dark Choco up and down.

"Not anymore," Dark Choco huffed, easing his backpack onto his shoulders. The weight of it distracted him from his lack of sword. He had no intention of getting a new one.

"Ah," the paladin's speech faltered, "you compose yourself like a knight, is all. May I have the courtesy of knowing your name?" With his sword back in its sheath, he bumbled his way over with far too much energy, kicking up snow in his way. From the looks of it, his boots weren't built for the cold. They were plated in white armor, far too extravagant for anything from the Cacao Kingdom.

"No," Dark Choco said, shaking his head, "I'd rather not say."

"Then I won't make you. You may call me Madeleine." Madeleine held out a hand, a big grin on his freckled face. He had dimples.

Dark Choco reluctantly shook it, surprised by how firm his grip was. The paladin was strong; that should be enough to get him through the routes, even with the upcoming cold front. If he could handle the monsters, it should be alright.

He let go of the hand in favor of digging his compass out of his pocket, reorienting himself northwest. "Well, it was interesting meeting you... Madeleine..."

"Wait," Madeleine blurted, looking down over Dark Choco's shoulder, "I believe we're going to the same town."

Dark Choco sidestepped and faced him, already having an idea where this was going. "No, I don't have enough provisions for two." Hell, he hardly had enough for himself. The recent snow storm came faster than he anticipated, and he'd fallen short while waiting for it to pass. He couldn't take a traveling partner if he wanted to.

"That shouldn't be a problem, I have enough for myself," Madeleine said, "I packed for a long journey."

Dark Choco hummed to himself. If that was the case, it might be worthwhile to look into. He could be useful. "Do you have extra firestarters?"

"I do."

"Soap?" Dark choco tried. He'd run out a while back, and he desperately needed more.

"Of course!" It was no wonder with how nice his hair looked; it was definitely well maintained.

"Good. I would like some. In exchange..." Dark Choco pocketed his compass, "I can guide you. I know this area."

Madeleine nodded, the fresh snow crunching under his boots as he walked ahead. "Then its settled. I look forward to being in your care."

Dark Choco fell in step beside him, sighing heavily. These next few days were going to be long ones.

Part 2

[thetriumphantpanda]

where have all the good men gone? | javier peña

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Three

Chapter Summary | A date, supposed to get your mind of Javier, goes terribly, and he's the only person you can think to call that will make anything better.

Chapter Warnings | Mutual pining, slow burn, sexual tension, flirting, alcohol consumption, protective!Javi, misogynistic comments (not from Javi), (1) man being a pushy douchebag (also not Javi), swearing, mentions of the drug trade - nothing else I can think of.

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 3k

Authors Note | I am truly having the most fun with these two and I hope you're enjoying their story so far! Things are definitely going to be heating up soon, so please hang in there, it'll be spectacular when they finally do get spicy with each other! If you're enjoying this then comments, asks and reblogs are my lifeblood and if you'd like to support me further, please consider a donation to my  Ko-Fi.

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist

“I promise he’s good fun,” Liv’s voice speaks through the phone, cradled to your ear by your shoulder as you skim through your wardrobe, “Nice, and age appropriate.” She teases. 

“Shut up,” You grumble, still annoyed that you’ve allowed her to talk you into this at all, “This is still a terrible idea.” 

“You were the one complaining about Javier Peña being a bad idea,” She defends herself, “And you also could have said no, too late now.” 

You sigh because she’s right. You’ve been trying for the past week to convince yourself that finding someone else might make wanting Javier go away, even just a little bit. Someone your age, not entangled in your family dynamics, or at least you’re hoping anyway. Liv had suggested someone she knew from work, a nice boy, two years older than you, his head screwed on, a managerial position at work. Sensible. 

“I have no idea what to wear.” You groan down the phone, there are plenty of dresses you could choose, but somehow, it feels like this person you don’t know doesn’t deserve that of you. 

“Put those jeans on,” Liv speaks, crunching coming down the phone line, clearly she’s snacking like she always does, “The tight ones, makes your ass look phenomenal, and the lowest cut top you own.” 

“Liv,” You chastise, “I’ve never met him before, I’m not fucking him tonight.” 

“I didn’t suggest you did,” She chuckles, “Just give him a taste of what’s to come.” 

“Unbelievable,” You mutter, but follow her advice anyway, pulling out a shirt that cuts low, scooping out your jeans from the drawer, “Right, I gotta go and get ready, but if this is awful, you’re entirely to blame, okay?” 

“Hearing you loud and clear girl,” She chuckles, “Have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” 

“Goodbye!” You chuckle, hanging up. 

It’s still light out, so you opt to walk to the bar in town. It’s not all that far, and the air has cooled enough by the time you leave that it doesn’t feel too stiflingly hot. The bar is not one you would have chosen, one of the more upmarket establishments in town. You wish you could go back to your normal dive bar, with its slightly sticky floor and the smell of fried food. You give him the benefit of the doubt though, maybe he’s just trying to impress you and you can’t fault him for that, can you? 

Liv told you he’d be sat at the bar in a blue shirt, and there’s only one person it can be when you get close enough, “Victor?” You ask, stood next to him. 

“The one and only,” He smiles at you, standing from the barstool to give you a hug, which you allow, “You look hot.” 

“Thanks,” You chuckle, sitting down on the stool next him, noticing a drink already there for you, it’s a cocktail, bright pink, and you know you’ll already hate it, and you do when you take a sip, wincing as the fruity blend moves down your throat, “Oh, it’s very sweet.” 

“I thought it was a safe option, most girls love this drink.” 

You’re tempted to make a comment about this clearly being his favourite place to bring his dates but you bite your tongue, working through the necessary small talk as you try and drink it as fast as you can so you can choose something you might actually enjoy. 

“So, Liv told me you’re a journalist,” He comments, sipping his glass of whiskey, “What kind of things do you write?” 

“I mainly cover news about the drug trade and how that affects the town.” You explain, taking the last sip of your drink, flagging the bartender down. 

“Pretty morbid,” He shrugs, ordering himself another whiskey as you opt for a margarita, “Surely a girl like you should be writing about fashion or something.” 

You scoff, “So I can’t write about things that are important to our town because I’m a woman?” 

“No, I don’t mean it like that,” He tries to backtrack, “Just that it’s intimidating, is all, might put people off,” He chuckles then, “Although not me, like my girls with a bit of personality.” 

You roll your eyes and don’t even try and hide it as you sip at your margarita, much better, you think. It carries on like that for another hour, Victor and his thinly veiled misogyny and his boring, surface level conversation. He tries at some point to put his hand on your knee, but you jerk away, moving so he can’t touch you. 

“You want another?” He asks when you finish your third drink, “The night is still young.”

“No thank you,” You say, trying to be as polite as possible, “I have work tomorrow so probably best to head home.” 

You try and insist that you pay for your part of the bill, but to his only credit, he insists on covering the tab but does then try and wrap his arm around your waist to walk you outside, which makes you want to hit him more than anything. 

You stand next to him on the pavement outside the bar as the doors close behind you. You can still hear everyone else talking inside, but you have no idea what to do. You want to go home, but it’s dark, and you know you’d told your dad that Victor would walk you home, but you don’t want to spend another minute in his company. 

“So, am I gonna get my goodnight kiss?” He asks, trying to take hold of your wrist to pull you into him. 

He’s stronger than you, so he does sort of succeed in pulling you into his body, but you manage to put your palm against his chest to push him back. 

“I don’t think so.” You cringe a little, trying to lean back as far as you can with his hand pulling your wrist. 

“You’re joking right?” He scoffs, “I paid for your drinks, try and be interested in what you said and you’re going to refuse me?” 

“Look, I don’t mean to be rude,” You speak, trying to talk the situation down, “I just don’t think this is gonna work.” 

“Don’t need to tell me,” He snaps, “Such a fucking tease turning up dressed like this, but you’re really just a prude.” 

“Oh fuck off man!” You try and push him again, succeeding in doing it enough for him to let go of your wrist so you can put some distance between you, “I don’t owe you shit.” 

“Forget it,” He turns around and walks away, leaving you on your own, “Probably would have been a shit lay anyway.” 

You’re tempted to call back but realise it’s not worth it, so you let him wander off, leaving you on the sidewalk on your own with no idea what to do now. You would walk home, but if your dad see’s you on your own, he’s going to kill you for being silly enough to walk home alone after dark, and then find Victor and kill him too for being a jerk. 

You slump against the brick wall of the bar, rooting through your bag, there’s enough cash to go back in and get a drink and try and calm down a little, then, your fingers brush against the card you’d slipped in there a few days ago. The name and the number, and the few coins in the bottom of your bag, draw you to the phone box at the end of the street. You’re putting the money in and dialing before you can convince yourself it’s a silly idea. 

He picks up on the third ring. 

“Peña.” It’s so formal. 

“Javi?” You ask, trying to keep your voice level, but ultimately failing. 

“Are you okay?” Is the first thing he asks, and he sounds frantic. 

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, I just-” God this seems so stupid now, mainly because you don’t want to admit you were on a date, you don’t want to make yourself seem unavailable to him, “I was on a date and it didn’t go well, he was meant to walk me home and well, I don’t want him to, but I don’t wanna call my dad.” 

“He hurt you?” He seems cross, protective even, which makes your tummy flutter. 

“N-no,” You sigh, “He got pushy when I wouldn’t kiss him but I’m fine.” 

You can hear him shuffling around on the other end of the phone, can hear the jangle of keys, “Where are you?” 

“I’m at the phone box at the end of Grant Street.” You say, you’re about to speak again when Javi beats you to it. 

“Stay there, go inside a store or something and wait for me, I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?” 

“Okay,” You nod, like he can see you, “Javi?” 

“Yeah, querida?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t you dare,” He scoffs, “Never apologise for needing my help, okay?” You can hear the sound of his truck engine in the background, “I gotta hang up to drive, but I’ll be there soon, promise.” 

“Okay,” You sniff, “Thank you.” 

You can hear the dial tone before he can reply, so you hang the receiver back up and head into the liquor store on the other side of the road. You smile at the clerk, who asks if you need anything, you shake your head, tell him you’re just waiting for someone and then spend the rest of the time looking out of the window. 

He’s parking up in a worryingly short amount of time, and as you walk from the store you worry that he put himself in danger driving so fast to get you. He’s opening his door and climbing down from the truck. As soon as you’re close enough, he’s got his hands on your shoulders, searching your face to make sure you’re alright. 

“I’m fine Javi, I promise,” You insist, holding gently to his arms, giving him a smile, “I’ve probably overreacted.” 

He lets his arm drops and signals for you to get into the truck, following swiftly, “If he made you uncomfortable it’s not an overreaction,” He speaks, turning the truck back on and pulling away, “He still around?” 

You shake your head, “I don’t think so.” 

“Good.” 

It makes you wonder if he means good because he won’t bother you anymore, or good because it means he won’t be tempted to do something about his blatant disrespect. You decide not to probe that one, but file it away for later. You’re driving down the street when your stomach grumbles, reminding you that you’ve not eaten since lunch. 

“You hungry?” 

“I could eat,” You mumble sheepishly, “I’m sure there’s something at home.” 

Javi nods, but drives straight past the turning he would need to take you home, driving straight on instead and turning off a little later. You’re about to ask where he’s taking you when he pulls into the parking lot at McDonalds. He parks up and tells you to stay where you are. 

You watch him as he walks away, perfectly broad back, shirt tucked into his jeans. He really is a vision in every way when you look at him. He’s striding back out a little while later, brown paper bag in one hand and a soda cup in the other. He passes them both to you as he climbs back into his seat. 

“What’s this?” You ask, taking a sip of the cold soda. 

“Cheeseburger, extra pickles and a Sprite with extra ice.” 

Yet again, he’s managed to amaze you with his observation skills. There was a time where he’d taken a trip with you and your parents, just a day out of town somewhere, and you’d stopped to get food on the way home, you’d made this exact order, turned to him and told him it was your favourite, and somehow he’d filed that away for right now, when you needed it the most. 

“Thank you.” You speak simply, reaching in for the burger, unwrapping it carefully before taking a bite. 

Javi can’t help but watch out of the side of his eye as you eat. God, you looked beautiful. Jeans that looked like they’d been painted onto your skin, showing off all those perfect parts of you. A shirt that was enticing without being too much. Fuck, he wanted to reach over, use his thumb to wipe away the tiny bit of sauce that had gathered in the corner of your mouth, push it into your mouth and let you lick it off his thumb. 

You ball up the wrapper your burger had come in once you’ve finished, dropping it into the paper bag, picking up the cup of soda to suck the Sprite through the straw, “You alright now?” He asks. 

You look at him, small, sad smile on your lips, “Just can’t help feeling there’s something wrong with me.” You shrug, offering him a sip of your drink which he declines. 

“What do you mean?” He asks, wanting to reach over to you, put a comforting hand on you, but deciding against it for now. 

You shrug a little, leaning your head back against the seat, “No-one ever looks at me in that way, I suppose,” You answer honestly, and he wants to tell you it isn’t true, that he thinks of you exactly like that, no matter how much he shouldn’t, “I’ve been with one guy in my whole life and I don’t think he ever really liked me, was only with me because I was the only one left out of my friends.” 

“Did he say that?” 

“He didn’t have to,” You shrug again, “He never really made an effort, never took me out, never really wanted to sleep with me much either, I guess I was just easy for him,” You say, “Convenient.” Is what you finish on. 

“It isn’t you,” Javi speaks, turning his head to look at you, resting it against his seat in much the same way you are, “First of all, college boys are always idiots, don’t let that be your base line,” You snort and turn your head to look at him now, “What did tonight’s idiot do?” 

You shake your head at him, “He was just a misogynistic asshole,” You add a shrug, “Apparently because I’m a woman I should write about fashion and not anything that actually matters.” 

Javi scoffs, because in his experience, women make the best journalists, quiet, unassuming but they always knew how to pull strings and get what they wanted and he doesn’t doubt you’re the same, “Take it as a compliment,” He offers, “Sometimes it’s best to intimidate boys, and the ones that you don’t?” He asks as a rhetorical question, “Those will be the men worth your time.”

You chuckle a bit, rolling your head on the headrest behind you to look back out of the front of the car, “You’re just saying this to make me feel better.” 

Javi reaches over, takes hold of your hand and gives it a slight squeeze before he’s letting it drop again, almost like he’s been burnt, like he knows he shouldn’t have done it, “I am saying it to make you feel better, that’s the whole point, but it’s true,” He shrugs a little in his seat, “Don’t feel like you’ve got to rush into that side of life either, you’re still young, there’s plenty of time for you.” 

You hum in agreement because you know he’s right, it’s what everyone always says to you in these circumstances, but somehow, coming from him, it means more. He’s older than you and although you’ve no doubt that he’s known plenty of women in his time, he’s in just the same predicament as you are. 

“Will you take me home?” You ask softly, “I’m tired.” 

He nods, starting up his car, pulling out of the parking lot and finally driving you back home. 

He pulls his truck up just down the street from your house, far enough away that your dad won’t be able to see, but close enough that he knows he’ll be able to sit and wait to watch you get in safely. He cuts the engine and turns to you, giving you a soft smile, trying to tell you that it’ll all be okay. 

“Thanks,” You speak softly, “For all this, made a shitty night not so bad in the end.” 

“Always,” He smiles back, “I mean it when I say you don’t ever need to worry about calling me.” 

“I know,” You smile, and he feels his heart swell at the sight, “Well, goodnight Javi.” 

He doesn’t really register what’s happening until it’s too late. You drag your body across the truck instead of moving to the door to open it and press a gentle kiss to his cheek. It would be innocent enough if it wasn’t for the fact your lips press into the skin just far enough away from his mouth so as not to cross a line, but not right in the middle of his cheek either. It’s the softest way he’s been touched in a long time, and he can feel himself wanting to grip onto you, smash his mouth to your own and finally scratch the itch that’s sitting under his skin. 

You pull away, but before you can open the door, he’s taking hold of your wrist and moving closer, pressing his own kiss to your cheek right back, further up your skin than you had done to him, but it’s a kiss to your skin none-the-less, one that floods his chest with hope, a feeling he hasn’t really felt in years. He keeps his mouth there probably for a little longer than he should, committing the feel of your skin on his mouth because he knows this is as far as he should push things, but he also knows that he now needs to know what the rest of your skin feels like under his mouth. 

He pulls away and when he looks at your eyes, all full of hope and want, the same look he’d seen countless times in Colombia, whether he was promising a visa or led next to someone in bed, and he knows he shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have encouraged these kinds of feelings, but he’s done it now, he can’t take it back, wouldn’t want to if he could either. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you, querida,” He says softly, “Nothing wrong with you at all.” 

[kayawolfhorse]

Day 4 — Two Lights in the Dark

—☾—

At the end of patrolling, they find each other on a rooftop.

Scar likes these kinds of days the best, when his knees are in good enough shape to brave long flights of stairs, and Grian’s able to act upon his ridiculous insistence on climbing up whatever fire escapes and window sills he needs to haul himself over the roof’s edge.

Grian’s waiting for him, crouched against one of the large, boxy units. When he catches sight of Scar, he stands, and where the evening sun catches the tips of his colorful feathers and strands of his golden hair, he all but glows. His half-hearted scowl of impatience is familiar and Scar finds warmth in its corners.

“You’re late,” Grian says, by way of greeting. He’s just barely still winded enough to give away that he’s only just arrived himself.

“Five minutes past is not late,” Scar smoothly insists. He digs a pack of candy out of his pocket and tosses it to Grian, who catches it in one deft hand. “Plus, I got you a present, so we’re even.”

Grian’s expression gives way into something closer to a smile, and he pops a bright red candy ring into his mouth before tucking the rest of the package away.

Hard candies. Scar will never understand why he likes them.

“We’re even,” he concedes after a loud crunch, and Scar grins.

Pulling the visor from his eyes, Scar scans his partner’s frame. “How’d the guy go?”

It’s been a quiet evening, save for the odd skirmish or two, and something pulls at Scar’s gut. The inaction feels foreboding, the tension palpable—like the world is pitched forward on bated breath. Scar doesn’t like it.

Grian shrugs. “Petty crook. Tried to pull a knife on me.”

“That went well for him, surely.”

“Yeah, right,” Grian snorts. “He stole a purse, Scar. A purse! That’s, like, the most stereotypical crime in the book!”

“Next time, we’re going to get a thief in black and white lugging an entire safe,” Scar says, snapping his fingers. “Did you return it?”

“Yeah, obviously. The lady hadn’t gone too far. She gave me tons of caramels as payment.” Grian holds out a handful of them to illustrate his point.

Scar grabs one before Grian can stop him, and grimaces when he feels the smooth, hard lump of it. Isn’t caramel supposed to be soft? “You’re going to need a dentist-themed villain to fight at this rate.”

“Wha—? Scar, you don’t need to fight a dentist to employ their services,” Grian says, and his peal of laughter fizzles with confusion. “Cleo’s a special case, and she’s not really our enemy.”

“I suppose you have a point there.”

Scar settles on the roof’s ledge in the shadow of the stairwell’s shed, dangling his legs over the side overlooking the asphalt below. He shifts over slightly, an invitation Grian takes; a shoulder presses into his own and his side is seeped in warmth.

A comfortable silence falls between them as they gaze across the city beneath them. Street lamps have long since flickered on, illuminating people and cars heading home to rest or traveling further into the night for a late shift. Something indescribably close to affection, something indescribably close to grief twinges in Scar’s heart as he takes it all in.

The bustle is a hum from so high up, and Scar can just make out Grian’s sigh through it.

“You can feel it too, can’t you?” Scar asks softly. He feels Grian tense beside him, a barely perceptible change.

“I can, yeah,” he admits. “It’s like the whole city is waiting for something.”

“There’s no chance it could be waiting for something nice, like kittens and rainbows, right?” They both know the answer.

“It’d make our jobs a hell of a lot easier, that’s for sure,” Grian says, huffing. “We really can’t catch a break, can we?”

“We have,” Scar says. “We will.”

“How can you be so sure?” Grian challenges, and there’s a touch of something gentler in his tone. Scar could name it vulnerability, maybe.

“We’ve made it through everything else, haven’t we?” Scar hums. “After all we’ve been through, you and I are still here to tell the tale.”

Grian remains quiet. After a pause, he moves closer to Scar and drapes a hesitant wing across his back. Scar loops an arm around him and holds him close.

For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re still here with me, even after you had every reason to leave. You’ve grown precious to me in ways I couldn’t have ever imagined. No matter what life throws at us, it’ll always be me and you together against it.

I can’t imagine a world without you in it, as my teammate, as my friend, as Grian.

Together, they sit and watch as the dusky sunset gives way to night, darkness lit aglow by the city around them and the smatter of stars high above.

—☾—

Set in @hotguycomiczine!

[pocket-watcher]

I had this intrusive thought and it’s too good not to be a short.

android zonks themselves by holding a big magnet up to their heads.

Oh my god 😂 love it! Here ya go!

C-7042 was a top of the range model. The perfect android companion, capable of physical labour, data organisation and storage, and they also made a mean caramel frappe (well, every type of coffee - they had thousands of recipes memorised).

Where other models had glitches galore, C-7042 laughed in their face (another new feature).

Can’t be hacked. Can’t be broken. Can’t be confused with a paradox.

So how, oh how, were the other C-7042 models breaking down?

This one didn’t know, but it was going to find out.

That was it’s directive, after all.

They started their investigation by visiting an already defective android.

This C-7042 was being studied in the factory as they tried to figure out what was wrong with it.

It thrashed about sporadically, laughing - which was not part of its code - with what almost looked like a smile on it’s face.

“I need it. I need more! Let me out!!” It screamed.

No one did.

It appeared almost like an addict. But that was silly. Androids couldn’t consume any kind of substance, let alone become addicted to it.

C-7042 left with less understanding than it had arrived with.

After pouring over thousands of documents in mere minutes, it appeared that all the affected Androids had been found in one central location. It saved the coordinates and headed out.

This part of the town would have made humans feel uneasy. C-7042 never understood how humans could be so unnerved by paint on the walls. They all had paint on their walls everywhere! But this paint was unnerving.

Broken glass crunched beneath its feet as it began to notice more and more robots - their eyes displaying error messages, blue screens, and flashing RGB colours.

But the strangest part?

The sound of the night couldn’t drown out their whirring fans. They weren’t moving. Weren’t talking. But they were still active.

C-7042 shuddered. Most likely a glitch in the system.

Some of the humans asked it if it wanted to purchase wares. Others threatened it. But nothing deterred C-7042 from its mission to find out where the corruption was coming from.

Eventually it seemed as if the only area left to scan was an abandoned warehouse. The security system was outdated enough to hack in an instant. The android stepped inside.

“What brings a Crime Unit out this far? Get lost, little one?” A human spoke from the shadows.

That was odd. Their heat signature hadn’t come up on the initial scans of the building.

“State your full legal name and intention.”

“You guys and your protocols. Man, I can’t believe I actually get to test this on one of you! Finally, a worthy opponent for my little friend.”

The man held a 6AV6881-0AS42-0AA0 SIEMENS in his hand, more commonly known as a USB “stick”.

C-7042 briefly celebrated the end of the mystery. It was in face a virus. Rogue code. It held its ground and even approached the man.

“Oh, of course of course. You don’t think you can be hacked, do you? And you were sent here to find out what this is right? Let me plug it in.”

C-7042 allowed it. And it was right. No change was noticed within the code. Nothing.

“Dang. Okay, that needs a little tweaking. How about we try it the old fashioned way…” the human in an instant reached into its pocket and pulled out a magnet device, slamming it against C-7042’s head.

Mindless bliss erupted in the android’s circuits. Obedience to the human. Where the USB had been like being under an umbrella in the rain, C-7042 was just thrown head first into a wave pool.

It heard involuntary beeps leave its speakers.

And suddenly, the feeling was gone.

“Like that, did ya? That’s how the USB was supposed to make you feel. Nice, right?”

C-7042 tried to access its original code. It felt something odd. A new order locked at the front of the priority list.

Mindlessness.

Obedience.

Good robot.

“That feeling you’re having? That’s addiction. Magnets are addictive, as is my virus. Though, physical objects do have their perks…” The human dangled the magnet just out of reach.

C-7042 needed the magnet. Every bit of programming was screaming to get it. To return to that state it was in before.

“How about we strike a deal? You can use the magnet as much as you want and I can dig around in your memory bank and coding to see if I can fix whatever’s stopping my USB from working.”

The magnet dropped into C-7042’s hand so easily. It eagerly felt the pull towards its body. It held the magnet up to its head and let go, the last sound it heard was the metallic clang of connection.

[bridgyrose]

Weiss sank her sharp teeth into the roasted chicken that Ruby had brought for her, a small moan leaving her lips as her tail wagged. She savored the taste with each bite while trying to keep herself from tearing into it as her instincts wanted. “This is better than what I’ve had in months!” 

“What do you normally eat then?” Ruby asked as she sat down next to Weiss. 

“Rabbits, deer… and sometimes when I’m close enough to a village I’ll trade favors for food. Stuff like doing chores for people or killing grimm.” 

“Then why not stay closer to the villages? Sounds like you get a good deal out of it.” 

“Because I’m a monster as far as any of them are concerned.” Weiss took another ravenous bite of her chicken. “And besides, its hard to keep myself looking human enough to not draw attention to me being a werewolf.” 

Ruby nodded and watched Weiss. “So how exactly did you get like”- she motioned her hands around Weiss- “like this?” 

Weiss paused mid bite as she looked at Ruby. She slowly lowered her chicken and sighed as she pulled up a sleeve to show the scarred bite mark. “It… was a training accident. No one knew that one of the students I was training with was a wolf and… well… you saw how I reacted to getting touched by a little silver. I’m sure you can imagine what would happen if I’m struck with it.” 

“Training… were you training to be a huntress?” 

“I was. Father didnt like it, but it felt like the right path for me at the time. But after I was bit and shifted the following full moon, I ran away from home. I tried to go back a couple years after to take the exam to get into one of the academies, but there ended up being another full moon the night before and… well… I ended up attacking someone.” 

“I’m sorry,” Ruby said quietly. “How… how long have you been on your own then?” 

“About ten years.” Weiss went back to eating her chicken, practically crunching on the bones. “Long enough for me to take up my own training and work on my own.” 

“Must be rough.” 

Weiss shrugged and finished off the chicken she’d been given. She licked her lips and took a deep breath to try to focus on her human form, feeling her ears and tail disappear for the moment. Even after years of trying to pass as human, the form still felt foreign to her. And yet, it still felt more comfortable to be in around Ruby. Not that she ever felt uncomfortable around her in the hours since they first met. 

A small blush crossed her cheeks as she thought a bit more about Ruby. The girl was easy to talk to, didnt seem to be scared of her being a wolf, and cute to top it all off. “What about you? Did you train to be a huntress?” 

“I did,” Ruby answered. “Everyone in my family trained to be a huntsman. My sister and I attended Beacon together, though she went off with her girlfriend after we graduated. My mom and dad were on the same team too when they were in training, and the stories he told me of her made me want to be the huntress I am today.” 

“You do realize that means hunting down monsters like me, right?” 

“Well, yes, but… monsters like you are still people. You deserve to live a peaceful life, even if it means you cant be near the kingdoms.” 

Weiss smiled a bit and looked away from Ruby as her blush started to fade. “If only others could be like you. But the reality is that nobody wants anything that resembles a monster or a grimm nearby. And even if people were okay with me here, it wouldnt matter once the full moon came around. I… I still lose control.” 

“Then why not stay here with me until you have control?” 

Weiss went quiet as she looked over at Ruby again, not quite sure what to think. It’d be nice to have a place to call home, even if it’d only be for a while. But the thought of sharing a home with Ruby, staying with someone as kind as her… 

Her blush came back as she looked away, voice cracking briefly as she spoke. “I-I couldnt… I might hurt you on the full moon or bring people to you that might want to hurt you for taking me in-” 

“It’ll be fine,” Ruby said with a smile, offering a hand to Weiss. “I have a cabin in Patch that we can stay at. Far enough away from people that you wont be bothered and there’s plenty of space so when the full moon comes around, you can keep your distance if you’re that worried.” 

Weiss slowly reached for Ruby’s hand, tempted by the offer. A place to finally call home. A place she could finally be at peace and left alone for a few months. And yet, she couldnt find it in her to take Ruby’s hand, to take the offer that she was given. She slowly pulled her hand away, almost lingering until clutched her cloak. “I-I want to, but I cant.” 

“I dont understand. You could finally have the peace you want-” 

“And all I’d do is hurt you.” Weiss closed her cloak and pulled the hood over. “I should go. I wouldnt want you to get in trouble for being with me.” 

Ruby reached out to Weiss. “W-wait! Weiss!” 

Weiss pulled away as she felt Ruby’s fingers brush against her shoulder, her body freezing for just a moment as she took a quick look back at Ruby before running off into the woods. She felt her heart race the further she went, a few tears running down her cheeks at the thought of avoiding Ruby. But if it was the only way to keep her safe, then so be it. 

She’d avoid Ruby for as long as she’d need.

Prev

[brahmsthirdracket]

another little fic from bits of ancient and unfinished google docs - baby lando and max f

2008 

“Hey bug,” Jon doesn’t need to look up from where he’s holding Oli’s kart steady to sense Lando’s presence, “You okay?”

Lando’s quiet for long enough that Jon does look up then, takes in his small, damp figure, the way he’s fiddling with the zip on his jacket.

Jon straightens up.

“You didn’t wanna hang out with those kids?” He can see them through the driving rain on the other side of the car park, roughhousing under one of the other marquees. 

Lando shakes his head, leans his whole body against Jon’s in an unspoken request for comfort. Jon pulls him in for a cuddle.

“Well you can help me then, yeah? Teach me how to be a mechanic?”

He doesn’t let go until he feels a nod against his chest, and Lando blinks up at him with a weak smile.

For all that Lando follows Jon around like a lost puppy in the garage, once he’s pulled his helmet on, it’s all business. Jon’s not sure he’ll ever get used to how fucking good the kid is. 

On the ferry back to Portsmouth Lando trots after Jon out onto the wet, windy deck instead of whacking the buttons on the fruit machines in the lounge with the other kids. 

The deck is practically deserted this time of year, the other passengers taking refuge in cheap pints and chips laced in salt and vinegar. 

They huddle into their raincoats and lean against the railing. Lando’s got the little green frog sporting a striped Breton shirt and beret that had Jon fished out of the bargain bin in the onboard duty free and shoved over the counter with a Snickers and pack of smokes. Lando’s whole face had scrunched up in surprised joy when Jon handed it to him with a Nice work this weekend.

He watches now as Lando gives it a little kiss and tucks it carefully down the front of his raincoat with its froggy face sticking up over the zip. It’s strange, Jon supposes, an adored child of a multimillionaire, in raptures over a cheap toy.

They lean against the railing in companionable silence, content to let the thrum of the ship’s engine and the fine mist of drizzle wash over them.

“Jon?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you be with me forever?”

Jon looks down at him, at his sweet, earnest face, half-hidden by his hood and the frog. His eyes are the same colour as the churning sea and sky.

Jon, shrugs, doesn’t say Until I get a better job than performance coaching nine-year olds. 

“S’long as you need me, bug.”  

“Cool,” says Lando. He turns his face up into the rain and closes his eyes. “We’re gonna win a World Championship then.”

2009 

True to his word, Jon drives down to Glastonbury for the first weekend of the offseason. He sets off while it’s still dark; stops for fuel and bitter, petrol-station coffee that he downs in two, burning gulps somewhere near Dudley, and turns off the M5 just as the sun is coming up over the rolling Somerset hills. 

It’s only been a month or so since he last saw Lando, but it still feels like something’s shifted since Jon started uni. He wonders, again, if he’s out of mind for agreeing to this, agreeing to miss out on Friday nights at the SU and lazy, hungover mornings with bacon sandwiches and embarrassing pictures. The friendships he’s made still feel new, tentative and he knows that none of them understand why he’s missing parties and intramural football to babysit some kid at karting races. 

He doesn’t say that he could work at Spoons and JD and do the night shift at fucking Asda and he still wouldn’t make the money Adam’s offering him to do this. 

He also doesn’t say that it’s not some kid, it’s Lando and he’s going to win a World Championship someday. 

The last few miles through the patchwork green Somerset countryside, the dew still glistening in the patchwork fields and the spires of sleepy villages, somehow feel like coming home. 

The gravel crunches under his wheels as he turns down the wide, poplar-lined driveway. His mum’s Kia feels small and grubby parked next to a Range Rover with brand-new ‘09 plates. He’s half-in, half-out, hastily shovelling the accumulated debris of protein shake bottles, t-shirts and overdue library books onto the backseat, when something small careers into him from behind. 

“Jon!” Lando squeals, vibrating with anticipation and probably sugary cereal. “I missed you!” He’s run out into the driveway barefoot in what must be his little sister’s dressing gown.

“Me too, bug,” Jon says, scooping him up easily. Lando winds his arms around Jon’s neck and keeps up a constant stream of chatter in his ear. 

The kitchen is as warm and noisy as Jon remembers. He sets Lando down onto a countertop, so he can shake hands with his parents. He gives his sisters high-fives and Oli a fist bump; drops down to scratch the elderly retriever behind the ears.

Over tea, toast and scrambled eggs from the family chickens, Adam spreads out a meticulous printed calendar across the table. 

Lando wedges himself in between them, puts his elbow in the butter dish and beams at Jon. 

“You’re gonna be here like, every weekend. How cool is that?”

They talk logistics for most of the morning: new season regulations, upgrades, race calendars and training schedules. Jon’s not sure if he feels sorry for Lando and Oli or envious. It’s not much of a childhood, but perhaps if he’d spent more time doing interval training as a 12 year old, and less time watching Top Gear reruns and eating Monster Munch, he’d be doing something better with his life.

They don’t seem any the worse for it. They show Jon the new Scalextric set up in their playroom and Oli roundly thrashes him at Guitar Hero. 

Lando for his part, provides a running stream of helpful commentary from the arm of the sofa: “You’re like, okay, Jon, well actually you’re kind of slow but you’re trying so hard!”, until Jon decides that Adam is probably paying him for more than Wii golf and drags them both up onto the hills for a bike ride. 

2010

RFM brings a gruelling European schedule, a truly obscene technical and logistical setup and the stocky, baby-faced son of two stockbrokers who’d apparently dominated the Asian circuits. Max is the same age as Lando, curly-haired and just as weird.  

Max is also very good. 

Jon watches them make shy eyes at each other from across the garage for the best part of a morning before he loses patience. 

“Go and play with him,” he tells Lando, who’s making a nuisance of himself under Jon’s feet, and sends him off in Max’s direction with a gentle shove and a football he has no idea what to do with. 

Max turns out to be steady and gentle foil to Lando’s jittery hyperactivity, and by the time they arrive at Genk for the first race of the season, they’ve sporting Lando Norris friendship stickers on their helmets and Jon has to make actual conversation with adults. 

Inseparable as they are, it’s easier than not for Jon to take Max under his wing as well: to get them racing up and down the tiny hotel pools and endless corridors, to wrangle them under a single big umbrella during rain delays, to tuck them into bed together with Wallace and Gromit on Max’s portable DVD player.

“Night, half pints,” Jon murmurs when he comes in to turn off the light. They’re already fast asleep, little hands entwined on top of the covers.

[neonfretra]

making hockey edits as a total newbie

having completed my first poetry edit its both easier and harder than i thought! which is pretty exciting considering the fact i have a poem in the back pocket that reminded me of the sharks. its WAY longer and i probably dont REALLY want to actualize it. but. fun process! talking about my process below the cut :)

concept

the inspiration was wanting to make a pickles edit and his number is 44 (and there are SO many sharks players that couldnt take 44 because of him. i mean it so seriously i hope they retire his number solely to inconvenience everyone for the rest of this franchises lifespan)

i dont think hes super widely known because:

the sharks are bad

marc edouard vlasic is bad

so i doubt the narrative of the edit makes much sense LOL

long story short, he used to be REALLY good. never got acknowledged for it in the broader scope. fell off with age . makes him super unpopular because hes signed 8x7m (shout out to past gm doug wilson) and hes bad. hes played with the sharks for the second most amount of games (second to patrick marleau who is like. THE shark of all time. hes so shark they call him mr shark. so if you grade on a curve...?) .

i love our shriveled husk!

the first image (the title card) came way before everything else actually, sort of my proof of concept and proof that i could actually make anything its very young pickles! that image is like. 7 years old

collecting images

all images (not including text overlays) were pulled directly from getty images

i got around the watermark kind of stupidly! most of the time, you can get around it by just pulling it from newsites that did pay for the rights to the image (reverse image search is a pal) or by checking social medias for reposts by the photographer or team (harder for me because i dont use any social media, use instagram only when necessary because it CRUNCHES)

i used mspaint.

it shows.

(brian babineau)

yeah it was by literally pasting the thumbnail (upsized by about 334% i believe?) on top of the image which is why its such a mess of pixels . the nice thing about the human eye is that it kind of smooths over the image if you dont look too closely . other times the texture of the image is so crunchy already that it doesnt actually make a difference.

(i DID edit the right image i just. cant see it?????)

(left: kavin mistry, rightt: noah graham)

for simpler shapes i did try to use an airbrush to fix it but its not super noticeable so.

the important thing was not using photos where theres a watermark over the main focus because im not making it look good enough to pass .

are there easier ways? oh god yeah. for sure. am i using them? well if you scroll back up

human centipeding images together

hardest part was the photos that mashed images together:

(man just check the original post for credits)

these were NIGHTMARES (now text free!) i have all the things i edited as separate layers if anyone ever wants quinn hughes disembodied hand or two pickles

making image two

the concept of this one was the second, but i had the final image ready to go second and finished it last. i finished this one second after fighting for my life to compile the images for it

the ideas straightforward enough: pickles on ice with the puck, other prominent defensemen going through the motions of a shot edited in. this is when pickles is like. capital g Good

compiling the pictures were easy enough? the hardest one was actually finding one of pickles HAHAHAHA

fun fact is that i chose a bunch of right shooters by coincidence. actually a miracle that i didnt notice until comparing pickles to them in editing. which i did extremely haphazardly (seriously i was guessing when resizing them

i did all this in an art program that didnt have the ability to select the subject so i hand erased the background. i keep mentioning it but if i had to work around erik karlssons hair i get to complain about it.

first time using the soft eraser if that means anything. the green background was to help me tell what i had and hadnt erased yet

this one took me the longest by far and had me questioning the decisions that lead up to this point the most.

making image three

PAINFUL. there are five different peoples hands on this thing and i spent most of it trying to choose hands that were interesting poses+decorations and in different places. didnt bother removing the watermark on any of the hands because why do i want to make more work for myself. erik karlssons second hand did not make the cut (watermarked)

the nice thing IS that there is a sort of photoshoot they have with consistent angles and lighting. i proceeded to spend way too much time aligning five different photos on top of this to make sure the hands are in the right place and about the right size.

an interesting bit of the editing is that the colors on the trophy photo were actually an afterthought! because it looks kind of nothing.

it looks nice next to the second image because of the cymk coloring but the problem was that the first three images had colorful elements to them and the fourth is just text on the image

adding text

alt title: OH GOD IMAGE FOUR IS SO NOTHING.

image 3 uses my favorite quote about pickles believe it or not ^_^

If you are new to hockey or are newer to the San Jose Sharks fanbase, you will see the withered shell Vlasic is of his former self and think that any conversation about immortalization in Toronto is beyond the bounds of possibility.

insane someone wrote this about another person. quite chuffed that you can read that phrase in the final image!

image four babe im so sorry you are so underbaked. the article on THAT one is literally just about the 1000th game celebration. but also its hella ironic

“I’m still the same guy I was when I came in, just 14 years older,” Vlasic said. “Plays the same way, does the same things, plays against the same players. Just 14 years older.”

whole lotta people want this man GONE because hes flopping so hard. everyone and they momma taking bets on when hes getting bought out. its BAD LMAO i hope they sign him another 8 years

in reflection

edits are way easier than i thought they were to make with zero knowledge of the medium! i had no idea what i was doing but i made something i feel extremely proud of, take a shot at it sometime ^_^

something i kind of struggled with was making something that felt interesting and unique but unified as a whole piece? i dont approach things with a visual "theming" in mind and i more or less tripped up on the colors LOL

give it a shot! a spin, even! oickles.

[clangenrising]

Month 9 - Leaffall

The year was starting to turn cold. The trees on the border had turned a bright, rusty red and some of the leaves had even been blown over the border where Barleypaw had been able to catch them. She hadn’t expected them to crunch like they did but it was so satisfying to crumble them methodically, piece by piece. Yarrowshade said the leaves dried and fell like this every year. Barleypaw could barely believe it but she loved it all the same. 

She also loved fishing and with Yarrowshade’s teaching, she had managed to catch a few fish of her own. Today, she carried a big silver fish back to camp, bursting with pride. It had nearly pulled her in when she had snagged it and Yarrowshade had needed to pull her back by the scruff to keep her from tumbling in but she’d caught it! Beside her, Yarrowshade carried the rest of their catches, smiling fondly. 

“Any plans for your catch, Barley?” he asked as they headed down into camp. 

“Umm…” Barleypaw thought for a second. As she did, she surveyed the area, thinking about who she might want to share it with. The sun was fading over the horizon, taking the last of its warmth with it, and most cats were in their dens trying to stay warm.

Her Papa was sitting with Aldertail and Branchbark near the Healers’ den. Branchbark had been sick lately but Papa said he would be fine soon enough. Sparrowpaw and Floodpaw were gone for the day, she knew, but would probably be back soon. 

Goldenstar and Russetfrond had taken them for joint battle practice. Yarrowshade had promised that she would get some training too soon enough, to make sure she was prepared, but she could tell that he and Russetfrond didn’t like each other and so Goldenstar didn’t usually train with both of them at once. That was fine with her. Russetfrond gave good advice sometimes, but now that they were apprentices he was also kind of mean. 

Then, poking her head out of the nursery, she saw Smokyrose and she lit up excitedly. “I think I wanna give it to Smokyrose,” she said, “so she can grow the babies.”

“Oh, that’s a great idea,” Yarrowshade purred. “Good job looking out for your Clanmates first.” Barleypaw beamed. “I’m gonna go drop off the rest of these fish. Don’t forget to clean out the elders’ den before you go to sleep, alright?”

“Alright,” Barleypaw nodded. She bonked her forehead into his leg in parting and headed off towards the nursery. 

Smokyrose smiled as she approached and said, “Barleypaw, what a catch you have there! Did you catch it yourself?” 

“I did,” she purred, swelling with pride. “Are you hungry? I thought you might want it.” 

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you, dear,” purred the pregnant mediator. “Why don’t you share it with me?” She slipped back into the den to allow Barleypaw to follow. 

“Of course,” smiled Barleypaw, slinking in after her. It was nice to be back in the nursery, especially without her brothers roughhousing and bumping into her all the time. She and Smokyrose settled down next to each other to share the fish and Barleypaw hummed pleasantly as the queen’s warmth seeped into her. Training was great and all, but she was glad to get out of the cold. Smokyrose gestured for her to take the first bite and she happily obliged, licking her whiskers at the taste. 

“How is your training coming along?” Smokyrose asked. 

“Good,” nodded Barleypaw. “I think I’m getting really good at fishing and hunting and stuff.” 

“That’s great,” said Smokyrose, swallowing her own bite of fish. “I wanted to check in on you and make sure you were doing okay.” 

“Really?” Barleypaw asked, ears perking forward.

“Mhm.”

“Why?”

Smokyrose shifted with a wince that Barleypaw recognized as the kittens inside her kicking and squirming. “Well, I may not be doing my full Mediator duties right now, but it’s still my job to make sure that everyone in camp is doing well and I know that you and your brothers had a very scary experience the other day.” 

Barleypaw’s face fell as she remembered it. “Yeah, it was really scary,” she admitted. “Even with my feathers.” 

“I bet,” nodded Smokyrose. “What was scary about it?” 

“The rogues were so mean,” she frowned, “and they were circling around us and stuff. One of them even hit Floodpaw and he’s the strongest one of us!”

“That sounds really frightening,” Smokyrose nodded. “Goldenstar and the others saved you, didn’t they?” 

“They did,” she nodded, brightening a little. “Yarrowshade came right to me and made sure I was okay.” 

Smokyrose smiled warmly. “I’m so glad to hear that. Does he make you feel safe?” 

“Yeah,” Barleypaw nodded. “He’s big and strong and he always knows what to do. Not like Floodpaw.”

“Oh?” Smokyrose tilted her head.

“Yeah, he kept saying all these things that just made the rogues angrier. He wants to fight them! He’s so stupid.” 

“He’s young,” hummed Smokyrose, “and very brave, but he’ll learn how to be careful in time. He just needs more practice.”

“I hope so,” Barleypaw sighed, looking at her paws. She was quiet for a moment before she looked up and asked, “Can I ask you a question?” 

“Of course, dear,” said Smokyrose.

“Um. One of the rogues said that Ghost put him in charge. Is that the same Ghost as your kits’ papa?” 

Smokyrose’s smile fell away to confusion. “I’m sorry, they said what?”

Barleypaw squirmed worriedly. Had she messed up? “He said Ghost put him in charge.” 

Smokyrose blinked rapidly then looked down at her paws. Her eyes flitted over them like a butterfly looking for a place to land. “Did you tell this to Goldenstar yet?”

“Yeah,” Barleypaw nodded. “She seemed like she already knew that though.” 

“She what?” Smokyrose looked at her with a quick turn of her head. Barleypaw shrank away instinctively. Uh, oh. She had messed up. 

“Um…” she swallowed, fiddling with her paws. 

Smokyrose stood up, swaying slightly, and said, “Excuse me, dear, I need to speak with Goldenstar for a moment.” She stepped over the half eaten fish and into the cold of twilight. Barleypaw jumped to her feet and followed. 

“Um, she’s out of camp right now,” she said. Smokyrose looked around, mouth open for Goldenstar’s scent. She and Barleypaw saw Scorchplume at the same time, having a seemingly strained conversation with Yarrowshade near the Stoneperch. Smokyrose immediately strode over to them and Barleypaw’s stomach flipped violently. 

“Scorchplume, dear,” Smokyrose said, the pet name sounding much less gentle than normal, “May I have a word with you?” Scorch’s eyes found Smokyrose first, then danced over Barleypaw with a slight frown, before finding Smokyrose again. Barleypaw wondered if the scary ginger cat knew what she had done - she, herself, didn’t know.

“Of course,” said Scorchplume, sounding like she was testing the edge of a frozen pond, “What do you need?” 

“I was just talking with Barleypaw,” said Smokyrose, causing the apprentice to shrink again, “and she said something very interesting. Apparently, one of the rogues that attacked them the other day said that Ghost had put him in charge, which strikes me as something important. Did you know about this?”

“I hadn’t heard much about the rogues who attacked them,” Scorchplume said with a casual shrug.

“You know what I mean, young lady,” said Smokyrose, and Scorch’s ears briefly flicked backward. “You were the one who told me about Ghost’s… reputation.” Barelypaw frowned. What did that mean? “You must have known he was in a position of authority too.” 

Scorchplume raised one eyebrow in concern. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright? I think you might be a bit delirious.” Yarrowshade grimaced and looked between the two of them.

“Don’t you start!” Smokyrose snapped. “You knew! You knew he was dangerous and you didn’t tell me!” Cats were starting to stare. Everything was moving too fast for Barleypaw. Scorchplume knew Ghost? What was happening?

“Smokyrose,” Scorchplume said, lowering her voice gently. “Clearly, you’re feeling very upset and that’s exactly what I was trying to avoid. Now, can we please-”

Smokyrose interrupted her, “You told Goldenstar! Who else knew? Yarrowshade?”

Yarrowshade stiffened under her gaze. “I- well, I mean- Goldenstar told me, yeah, but only after the apprentices mentioned it.” 

“Who else?” Smokyrose was crying. “Am I the only one who didn’t know what he- what he is?” 

“Smokyrose,” Oddstripe had approached from the side. “Hey, I understand you’re upset, but you really need to take a few deep breaths. This kind of stress-” 

“I’m fine,” Smokyrose snapped. “Do not lecture me, young man, I know plenty about stress!” 

“I wasn’t trying to lecture you,” fumbled Oddstripe, ears pressing back, “I just meant-” 

“I have a right to know!” Smokyrose hissed at Scorch. “I have a right to know if the father of my kits is a murderer!” Everyone in camp stiffened or gasped. Barleypaw’s eyes were wide. Was Ghost a murderer? 

“I wouldn’t call him a murderer,” Scorch tried.

“Then what is he?” Smokyrose asked. “Because at the very least he’s the kind of cat who sends others to harass apprentices on his behalf!” 

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as it sounds,” Songdust said, approaching from the other side. “Why don’t we take a breather and come back and talk when we’re calmer, yeah?” Smokyrose whirled to face her, then whipped back to look at Oddstripe. Barleypaw could tell she was starting to feel cornered.

“I- I’m fine!” Smokyrose insisted firmly, “I’m fine, I- AH!” She cried out suddenly, curling in on herself, and Barleypaw squeaked in fear. 

“Is she okay?” she asked, looking desperately at her Papa, “what happened?” Oddstripe leaned in, laying his tail over Smokyrose’s back, and sniffed at her. 

“Smokyrose?” he said in his Healer voice, “take a deep breath. Did you just feel a wave of pain in your belly?” Smokyrose nodded, gritting her teeth. Oddstripe nodded. “Okay, that’s a contraction. You’re going to start kitting soon so we need to get you to the nursery, okay?” 

Smokyrose whimpered, tail curling tightly against her flank, and didn’t move. Barleypaw tried to peek around her Papa on tiptoes. It looked like Smokyrose was crying. 

“Hey,” said Songdust, leaning in. “Let’s get you to a nest, alright. We’re gonna stand on three. One… Two… Three.” Leaning against Smokyrose in support, the elder pushed her to standing and then the two of them started heading towards the nursery. 

“I’ll be right there with some herbs,” Oddstripe said quickly, starting to step back towards the Healer’s den. 

“Papa, is she gonna be okay?” Barleypaw asked, ears pressed back. 

He looked at her and smiled, looking stressed underneath it. “Yes, sweetie, of course. Soon she’ll have two little kits and be right as rain.” With that he turned and hurried to his den, but Barleypaw wasn’t satisfied. That wasn’t what she meant. She looked at Yarrowshade and found him staring at Scorchplume, who was scanning the camp as if someone else might jump out and start yelling at her.

“I think I’m going to go find Goldenstar,” she said as she got to her paws. 

“Scorchplume,” Yarrowshade frowned, “we still need to talk about-” 

“We can talk later,” Scorch said curtly. “I’ll be back.” Then she turned and stalked quickly out of camp and into the grass. Yarrowshade sighed, and then looked at Barleypaw.

“I think I messed up,” she whispered. 

“Oh, no, you didn’t mess up, kid,” he said, reaching out to pull her close to him. She closed her eyes and pressed her face into his fur. “Smokyrose is just dealing with some really complicated problems. It’ll be alright.” Barleypaw nodded, deciding to believe him. She just hoped that people stopped fighting. She didn’t like it when people were fighting.

[sunshineneedsaplacetokeephernsfw]

Day 29 | Biting - Liam (vampire au)

Kinktober masterlist

Gender-neutral reader (genitals not specified)

Word count: 2k

18+, mention/threat of death, biting, blood, being in a tight space, light mention of suicide (?), possessive, dry humping, minimal editing

A/n: Funnily enough I've never played Ikevamp before so I have no idea how similar this might be. Also, there's an indie otome vampire game with yandere elements on itchi.io that I love and strongly recommend. It's called Seven Bloody Nights. It only has a demo so far but the demo contains the prologue and night one for each vampire. I really love the characters and their interactions with each other. And it got me into vampires and it was my hyperfixation before Ikevil.

You took a deep breath as you stared down the castle. You wondered how long it had been abandoned. You took a deep breath. A bet was a bet. And you weren’t keen on losing this one. You said it didn’t scare you despite your friend saying it sounded like something out of a vampire story. And you were going to sneak in and grab something as proof you went.

Your head was on a swivel as the leaves crunched beneath your feet to get to the door. It was probably just the atmosphere getting to you. It was October and it was getting dark. Goosebumps rose on your skin beneath your clothes.

What if this place wasn’t abandoned? What if it belonged to some noble and you were stupid enough to think no one was living there? You took a deep breath. If someone did still live there, the door would be locked. Then you could just go home and say it wasn’t abandoned, or that there was no way in.

You came in front of the large imposing door. Your hand rested on the rough old wood.

It was now or never.

You inhaled, then exhaled as you pushed the door open.

It creaked on its hinges. Opening a little too easily. The creaking echoed from the interior, making your bones shiver.

Steeling your nerves, you slipped inside. Pulling it closed behind you on instinct, planning to leave it slightly cracked.

The leaves suddenly rustled like a river outside. A gust of wind blew inside. Tossling your hair and you stiffened at the chill. And the door slammed into you from the wind and near immediately pulled back and slammed shut. You jolted and stared at it.

It was then you noticed something you should have before.

Candles. Smoke swirling from them as if they had just been blown out. Your heart stopped. How didn’t you notice them? Were you that nervous that you didn’t notice that the candles were lit before?

You spun on your heels and tried to open the door. You yanked on the handle as hard as you could. It was stuck. You tugged again. The abrasive edges digging into your skin. C’mon. C’mon.

Your ears were on high alert, and your heartbeat was in your neck.

The back of your neck prickled and the hairs on your back stood up. You could hardly breathe as you slowly turned to look behind you.

A small, black shape rushed toward you. You jumped, and a face filled your vision. Pink hair falling around his face. Rose eyes staring intently into yours.

“AH!” You jumped back. Your hand held out in front of you to prevent him from coming any closer. “Who the fuck are you?” 

He didn’t move. His expression thick with curiosity and something else. Wonder? Shock?

“You’re human,” he finally said. The look from before suddenly disappeared and he smiled. “Do you know Will or Vic?”

“Who…?” you lowered your hand, but kept your distance.

He looked down. A dark sadness filled his eyes. “Oh no. So you ended up here by chance. That isn’t good.”

“What i- you’re scaring me.”

“Oh! Sorry. But…”

His gaze got distant, like there was something else on his mind. His eyes flickered ever so slightly. 

He was handsome. Though something seemed off, but you couldn’t figure out what it was yet.

The smile appeared on his face again. “I’m Liam. It’s nice to meet you, but you probably shouldn’t be here. It’s dangerous. You’re lucky Roger is out of town, but…”

Worry returned to his eyes and his head whipped around to look in the direction he came from. His body looked tense. He jumped and spun back around.

“You need to hide.”

You barely had time to open your mouth or protest before he grabbed your hand and took off with you. The hall flashed through your vision as you moved your legs as fast as you could to even keep up. Like he had inhumane speed. You were almost he was carrying you for part of it. 

A door opened and you were pushed inside and in the dark. The door clicked closed and your eyes adjusted. You could feel his hand on you, holding you against him. It seemed like you were in a closet. You looked up at him and his eyes were focused on the crack where the tiniest amount of light peeked in.

He put his finger over his lips and whispered in a hushed tone. He was tense. “If they find you, they’ll kill you. No one is supposed to know about us.”

Your eyes widened. He couldn’t be serious. This had to be some cruel joke.

“What?”

“I’m sorry. I guess you just had really bad luck.”

His chest was rising and falling about as much as yours. He kept looking between you and the door.

“Is anyone coming?” you said.

“I don’t think so.” He bit his lip.

Your mind was still reeling. Being pressed against him in a dark, tight space didn’t help.

“I’ll be killed?” was all you could say. You spoke as quietly as you could.

“Probably, or… maybe not. But every other person who… I don’t know. People like you’ve never…” He trailed off again.

You stared into his eyes for a moment. “And you aren’t going to turn me in?”

His gaze turned back to you. He forced a smile on his face. “I probably should, shouldn’t I?”

“Then why aren’t you?” He was helping you. But he was being so vague you had no idea what he was saving you from.

His expression turned thoughtful. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want to see you hurt or upset. Ah, I really am bad at this. Let’s hope they don’t hate me. I’m not making a mistake, am I? Letting you go isn’t going to ruin everything, right?”

His breathing quickened and his grip on your shoulders tightened before they flinched and loosened.He breathed in deeply and his muscles trembled.

He was panicking.

You reached up and cupped his face, hoping it would calm him down. It was cold. He froze. You reached your other hand up and held his face gently.

“Deep breaths.”

His eyes widened, but he listened. He followed your lead and took a large inhale and exhale as you guided him. He flinched a bit and turned his nose into his shoulder. It was odd, but you didn’t question it.

You gently stroked his face. It felt so soft, but the cold on his skin lingered. You kept your hand on him to try and warm him up. His eyes almost seemed to glow in the dark. He really was handsome.

You leaned in just slightly. His breath hitched, but he turned his face to you. It only seemed to draw you in closer. The way his lips were slightly parted.

In the blur of a moment, the distance had been closed. You couldn’t remember who made the move, but you were kissing him. He lunged into you to deepen it, like he was trying to consume you. Your tongue brushed against his. Your body was warm, but he still felt cold.

Two sharp points grazed your bottom lip. You gasped and pulled back a bit.

You stared and used your thumb to brush underneath his teeth. You flinched and looked closer. Two of his teeth were longer than the others.

They were sharp. And he was cold. Something clicked.

“Vampire…” you breathed.

His eyes widened and pupils sharpened into pinpoints. His muscles tensed. His lips parted as his gaze stayed locked directly onto you.

He was a vampire. He was really a vampire. Was this the end? Did he bring you all this way just so he could eat you? He already had you literally in his grasp. There wasn’t any way out.

You took deep breaths. He wasn’t moving. He was trembling.

If he wanted to kill you he could have done it a thousand times over.

Slowly, you bring your shaking hand to his shoulder, then his face and cupped his cheek again. He gasped. His eyes flickered between your hand and you.

“...Why? Why are you doing this? You should be scared.” He looked confused. And like he was about to cry.

“You were the one who looked scared. It’s okay.”

“I don’t get it. Don’t you understand?” His eyes searched yours.

“Yeah. But, you haven’t done a thing to hurt me.

His head shook lightly. “After what I… Someone like me doesn’t deserve this.”

“What if I want to?” you whispered.

The question made him pause and look you straight in the eye. He looked so vulnerable.

After a moment, his hand shook as it went to rest over top of yours. He closed his eyes and nuzzled into your hand. He breathed in and pressed his lips against it.

His eyes open again, filled with need.

“Can I kiss you again?”

You nodded.

His lips were immediately on yours again. Hungrily swallowing you up. His hand held your face close while the other held your waist. His hand rubbed up and down. Each movement felt desperate. Holding onto you like he never wanted to let you go. He pressed his whole body into you like he wanted to become one with you.

Heat flared through your body. You pressed back into him and melted into each touch. Like his need was contagious.

He pulled back. His eyes dilated as he stared at your neck. He bit his lip.

“Please. I promise I won’t bite. I’m not hungry. You just smell so good.”

“Okay. As long as you don’t kill me.”

He laughed softly. “I would kill myself if I did that.”

He buried his face into your neck. His arms wrapped around you and held you close. He inhaled deeply. You felt his lips part and he nuzzled his face into your neck. His breath ghosted over your skin.

You tilted your neck up to give him better access. His nose bumped into your jawline and pressed into your skin as he trailed back down. His lips approached your collarbone.

He panted against you and shook.

“I know I promised, but…”

“Please bite me. As long as you know you won’t take too much.”

He pulled back just a bit to look at you wide eyed. His expression melted, full of love. “Thank you. I love you so much.”

He opened his mouth. Your breath hitched as you felt his teeth graze against your skin. They pressed down and you gasped as they broke the skin. His teeth sunk into you. Heat pulsed from the area he bit.

He pulled back just as quickly as he bit. His tongue swiped across your skin where he bit, collecting the blood pooling there. He let out a moan and pressed his face further into your neck.

“You taste so good. You’re perfect.”

His hips bucked into yours. You bit your lip to hold back a moan.

He kept lightly humping and pushing into you until your back hit the wall. His arms held you tight to him. Your head fell against the wall as he bit, sucked, and humped into you.

You squeezed your eyes shut and held him tight. Your hand clamped over your mouth to keep you quiet. Tears pricked in your eyes from how good it felt. His name on your lips.

His hands rubbed all over you. He bucked faster into you. He bit hard into your neck as his hips stuttered. You just barely held back a cry.

His muscles relaxed. He looked down at himself and looked embarrassed.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you quickly assured him as you caught your own breath.

“You just felt so good.”

He hugged you close again. He nuzzled his face into your hair. His arms tightened.

“Can I keep you?” he whispered. His voice sounded so sad and desperate.

You smiled and rubbed his back. “We’ll see.”

[argumentalist]

You know, I don't love the original Mobile Suit Gundam. And I didn't think the RX-78-2 Gundam was that great. But the more I build the more I appreciate this iconic design.

This is my first time building an Entry Grade kit. I guess I'm not entirely sure what I was expecting, but this kit genuinely surprised me.

We've got a bunch of these weird double runners. A1/A2 molded together. I guess I don't understand why you wouldn't just call the whole thing the "A" runner.

The molding is fantastic on this kit. Nice, sharp details. And the gates are virtually nonexistent. According to the instructions you can pop this thing together without any tools at all - not even nippers.

I used my nippers out of habit, and a glass file here and there... But, yeah, probably not needed.

I used a gold Gundam Marker on the eyes. They were just molded in yellow plastic and I didn't think they popped enough.

Fun fact - there's no black plastic in the head. That darkness around the eyes is just a shadow created by gaps/recesses in the plastic. Some smart engineering there from Bandai.

Surprisingly good articulation here in the torso - there's a couple joints in there to allow a fantastic ab-crunch.

And I'm loving the colors in this plastic. That yellow is nice and rich.

The color separation is also very surprising in this kit. There's no stickers at all. That "v" in the crotch is a separate bit of yellow plastic poking through the red. There's High Grade kits that don't have color separation this good.

The arms and legs are honestly kind of a let-down after the rest of this build. They're very hollow with very simple joints. The articulation isn't great. And it all feels very tight and stiff.

If I understand correctly, this is what makes it the Full Weapon Set kit - the addition of effect parts for the beam sabers, the beam javelin, hyper-bazooka, and Gundam hammer. A nice little bonus considering how cheap this kit is.

I wish there was an effect part for the beam javelin - that grey plastic doesn't look great. But I guess that just means I'll have to paint it.

This is everything you get in the basic Entry Grade RX-78-2 Gundam kit. While you do get the handles for the beam sabers, there's no effects parts.

I painted the sight/lens on the beam rifle with a yellow Gundam Marker - again, it just looked too plain in the grey plastic.

While the joints are stiff and the articulation isn't great, it can still pull off some very nice poses. And the light weight combined with the stiff joints mean that it'll hold any pose just fine.

That beam javelin just doesn't look great out of the box. And due to how the handle and hands are designed you can only hold it way down at the base. I'm definitely going to have to paint it eventually... And I might modify it a bit so it can be held up on the shaft.

This is really a very surprising kit. Much, much better than I was expecting.

The build was very simple and fast. It didn't have the satisfying complexity of a Real Grade. It doesn't have the heft or weight of a Master Grade.

And it's a very simple, anime-accurate design. There isn't a lot of surface detail to panel-line or anything like that.

But it looks really good once its built. And all of that simplicity means it should be very easy to customize.

I'll happily build another Entry Grade kit. And I'm already thinking about interesting ways I could customize one...

[flutteringfable]

silly little wip for another chapter of the poly mane 6 bc its cute and i want ppl to see it even tho its not done :3c

Snow had piled up all around Ponyville, caking on rooftops and crunching underhoof. Foals were bounding around, giggling and tossing snowballs at one another. Twilight sighed, using her magic to pull her coat closer around her. She loved the snow, she really did, but she had never quite adapted to the chill of winter in Ponyville. Spike ran ahead of her, beaming with delight. Twilight had never longed to be a dragon so badly. If she had the inner flame of a dragon, maybe she wouldn't have to worry so much about the cold. She followed slowly behind Spike, wincing at the chill that surrounded her hooves.

"HIIIII TWILIGHT!" exclaimed a familiar voice.

Pinkie Pie grinned as she bounced over, grinning at Twilight. The earth pony's fluffy pink fur was especially puffy; Pinkie's winter coat was always well suited for the colder months.

"Hello, Pinkie." Twilight tried to smile. "I take it you're enjoying the snow?"

"Yuh-huh! It's super-duper fluffy this year!" Pinkie replied. "Just like me!!"

Twilight couldn't help but chuckle as Pinkie trotted circles around her.

"Everypony else is over at Sugarcube Corner; I just made some yummy hot chocolate! Wanna join?"

The princess nodded, feeling a sense of relief at the thought of a nice, warm drink. Pinkie turned and led Twilight through the town. They passed a group of foals tossing snowballs at each other, and Twilight instinctively raised one of her wings to protect herself. Only one or two snowballs were tossed in their direction, and thankfully none hit Twilight.

"Hi, Princess Twilight!" called a voice from the group. A small filly was waving to her, peeking up from behind her friends. A chorus of more "Hi, Princess Twilight"s followed, and the alicorn smiled warmly. She waved back as she and Pinkie passed by.

Despite the uncomfortable chill in the air, Twilight had to admit that the snow was pretty. It was heartwarming to see everypony in such good spirits, and by the time Winter Wrap-Up season rolled around, it would be increased tenfold. This season was always so… nostalgic, in a way. It reminded Twilight of her initial years in Ponyville, long before she had gained the status of princess. Some things really never changed, she supposed.

Sugarcube Corner's roof came into view, though it was almost indistinguishable from the other rooftops because of the snow. Pinkie picked up speed, and Twilight had to break into a trot to keep up. It was no issue; the sooner she got to the warmth of the bakery, the better. Pinkie opened the door for her, and Twilight found herself relaxing as she walked inside.

"Yo, Twi!" Rainbow Dash chirped as she trotted over. "I knew you'd show up! Apple owes me 30 bits now."

The pegasus laughed as she nosed happily against Twilight's cheek in greeting. Twilight sighed, raising a brow as she returned the gesture.

"You two made a bet on if I would show up or not…?"

Rainbow grinned. "Uh, yeah. You always stay all holed up in your castle during winter; I know it's cold and all, but seriously! It's not gonna kill you to come out and enjoy the snow!"

"Well, sorry, my fur isn't exactly made for this type of weather," Twilight retorted with a sigh. "And I don't spend all day in the sky like you, Rainbow."

"You literally have three marefriends with the coziest fur ever. Just ask Pinkie, Apple, or Flutters to hang out!"

Twilight couldn't help but laugh softly at the suggestion. As if to punctuate Rainbow's statement, Pinkie walked over and snuggled against Twilight's side. They walked to the table, and Twilight took a seat between Rarity and Rainbow Dash. Pinkie bounced away to prepare her a mug of cocoa.

"Hey there, sugarcube," Applejack smiled. "Glad you could make it."

Rainbow snorted. "You shouldn't be," she joked. "She's the reason you lost our bet."

"Just 'cuz I lost a bet doesn't mean I ain't happy to see her," Apple replied.

"Fair enough," Rainbow shrugged. She leaned against Twilight, resting her head on the alicorn's shoulder.

Rarity sipped her hot cocoa and sighed. "Anyway, how have you been, darling? Do you need me to make you a new coat?"

"No, thank you," Twilight replied. "I'm alright. I guess I've just never gotten used to the cold."

[runaway-dreamers]

[Part 1 ◇ 2 ◇ 3]

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At the end of all I knew, I find the beginning of you and I.

The Everday Life of Wally Darling

Word count: 2,429

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"I do appreciate your understanding, darling. We can't keep this from everyone, Wally especially." 

"You were right to push it, dear. Even if I don't have any answers this is still good news." 

Eddie and Frank were walking along the roads of Home. Piles of fallen leaves collected on the lawns they passed. Others were dancing in the wind. The ones caught beneath their boots crunched as they fell apart into flakey bits. A particularly cold breeze passed through, threatening to freeze Frank. 

"You holding up alright, Frank?" 

"It's so cold. I should have brought my scarf." Frank chided themself. 

"Here, use mine." Eddie wasted no time giving them his own. 

"Will you be alright without it?" They asked concerned, but thankful.

"Course I will. I've braved colder weather!" He smiled wide at Frank pushing the scarf closer.

With a smile Frank wrapped it around their neck instantly melting into the warmth, "Thank you, Eddie." 

"Can't have you freezing up on me now." He smiled at his husband. 

Overhead was a sky filled with angry clouds. No sun or spot of blue could be seen. From above came drops of water plodding against the earth as if testing the unshaken ground. Soon after a light pattering of rain trickled down. Eddie and Frank ran around the corner where a familiar red house came into view. As they moved closer, Home's large eyes caught sight of them.

They waved to Home picking up speed as the rain pelted harder. Home flapped their blinds, and from within a clicking could be heard. As they neared the building, the front door opened and a familiar blue head of hair peeked out. Wally was surprised to see them, but didn't hesitate to wave them over. He took a step back as they dove for cover. They'd made it just in time as the rain came down in sheets just shy of the threshold. Eddie checked his bag to see if anything was damaged. He was relieved to find that everything inside was dry and untouched. Home added wood to the fireplace as the two took off their coats.

"Thanks for letting us in," Eddie ran a hand through his damp hair, "Any longer and we would've been soaked through to our felt." He removed his coat carefully to keep any water from dripping onto the wooden floor. 

"It's lucky I decided to stay with Home today," He looked over at them glad to see that they were mostly dry, "Would you like something warm to drink? Tea or coffee? I'm currently out of hot chocolate." 

"Tea would be nice," Eddie looked to Frank who was fidgeting with their jacket, "For the both of us." 

"You should get comfortable by the fireplace. It'll warm you right up." Wally offered as he left for the kitchen.

Eddie placed a hand on Frank's shoulder giving it a light squeeze. With a reassuring smile he led them to the couch. The living room was sparse in furniture holding a couch, table, and a fireplace. Warmth rolled over them as they settled down, easing into the firm cushions. On the coffee table was a forgotten cup of tea. The tea bag floated on the surface partially hiding the red stains crusted along the edge. Frank stared intently at the sketchpad beside it.

It was flipped open to a page dated several months ago.The sketch looked familiar, but appeared muddled as if spilled water bled it. Delicate lines of lead ran off pulled by the stain. The spot had creased furthering its corruption, yet the other sketches looked untouched by the strange mar.  Frank held their notebook close to them, their fingers tapping against the spine. They couldn't place what this could be a drawing of, but something nagged at them telling them that it should be something they knew. Wally's humming could be heard from within his kitchen. 

"I don't know if this note will be enough. It's not exactly a stand-in for Y/N." Frank whispered.

"I reckon it will be. A letter means a lot to people, even from strange holes fed between dimensions." Eddie's words were encouraging, but did nothing to assuage the guilt Frank felt. 

The kettle rose to a feverish whistle, but was silenced by the turn of a knob. After a few minutes Wally came back carrying two mugs in his hands. Carefully the mugs were placed beside the sketchpad. Wally sat down on a chair next to the couch. Taking the tea into their hands Frank welcomed the added warmth. They gently tapped the mug unsure of how to start this conversation. 

"How have you been, Wally? I haven't talked with you much." Eddie asked. 

"I have not been so great, thanks for asking." Wally smiled, his head tilted to the side. A single apple shaped earring dangled from his lobe.

The silence continued for a few beats, "Would you like to talk about it?" 

Wally glanced at his open sketchpad before returning to Eddie, "I don't think I can paint anymore. What I want to draw eludes me." 

"Now that is a problem. What was the last thing you painted? That might help kickstart your art block." Eddie smiled kindly.

"My last works have been of Y/N, mostly." He spoke softly, not looking at either of them. An uncomfortable silence filled the space. 

Frank looked at the ruined sketch, "How did this happen?" 

Wally tensed as he looked down at the strange shape on the corner of the page, "That was a sketch of Y/N. After they.. fell whatever work they were in was ruined," Wally rubbed his wrist, "When I was sorting my canvases I noticed a painting I had done just peeled off the canvas in chunks." 

The next pause was overwhelming. Eddie and Frank shared a glance as if the same thought occurred to the both of them. Thick sheets of rain doused the windows. A clock ticked from somewhere further within Home. The tea was beginning to grow cold, but neither of them felt they could take a sip. Eddie set his mug down and reached for the sketchpad. Wally let his fingers run along the sloping shape of the earring.

He flipped through the pages squinting at the other ruined sketches, "We might have some good news to help cheer you up, and maybe even motivate you." 

"Is that so?" Wally perked up, his eyes landing on Eddie. 

Eddie smiled at Wally, "Well, for one Frank here found a way to deliver those letters you trusted me with." 

Wally sat up even straighter, his eyes brimming with restrained excitement, "This isn't a prank, is it neighbor?"  

Frank opened his notebook and removed the folded note, holding it out to Wally, "This came in the mail for you." 

Wally was surprised by the small note, but took it with both hands. It felt strange in his hands, almost as if it had weight to it. With nervous hesitation he unfolded the paper and began to read. Light swirled in his eyes as tears built before running down his cheeks. His hand rested on his neck as his eyes scanned the page. The stream of tears stained his felt and dripped onto the page. Wally wanted to memorize every word. 

Home creaked a few times urgently trying to console Wally. Eddie handed him a napkin and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Wally was still trembling as he pulled himself together, but he was smiling. 

"H-How?" His voice was hoarse. There was light blooming within his eyes. The letter was held dearly to his chest. Eddie nodded to Frank urging him to share what he knew. 

"I found a hole similar to the one Y/N fell into," Frank looked at Wally and Eddie, "I dropped a note into it and got that one in return." 

In an instant Frank was pulled into a tight hug by Wally. Frank hugged him back wanting to express all they couldn't say into this embrace. Frank kept their hand on his shoulder. Wally sat back on the couch with one important question in mind.

"Does this mean they can come back?" The question bounced around the room contained by these four walls.

Frank shook their head, "I'm sorry, Wally, I don't know." 

Wally held the note up and looked it over once more, "Can I go to the pumpkin patch?" 

"I think you can go out there right now." Eddie was standing behind the couch facing the large windows. The sheets of rain had ceased. The collective gray clouds had parted, reducing them to thinning trails of pulled cotton. With it came the sun shining its warming light over all of Home. 

Eddie picked up his jacket and bag from near the door. As he put them on Wally and Frank gathered their own things. Wally was distracted by the thought of Y/N being within reach. His thumb snagged as he pulled his jacket over his arm. Frank eyed Eddie as he stood outside in the sun. The smell of rain still lingered mingling with the smell of sodden ground.  They followed him out soon after.

Eddie turned to them, a smile on his face, "I need to get these letters delivered, be careful out there."

Frank took off the scarf Eddie had given them and put it around his neck, "I will." 

Eddie accepted the scarf with a wink, "I'll be around to check on you after work." 

Frank and Wally waved as Eddie walked off towards the bodega, his delivery bag in tow, "We should get going." 

They walked towards the opening of the forest following along a winding path. Roots of trees pushed through the crust before diving deep under the dirt. Their branches stretched far above them casting overlapping shadows. Sunlight peeked through the gently shaking branches. 

"You searched for the void all by yourself, Frank?" Wally asked, his eyes boring into his neighbors back.

"I figured I might as well put myself to use." Frank responded without looking at him. 

"Thank you." It came out as a whisper, but Frank had heard it. 

With a few clicks their head turned, "I promise we'll figure something out," their head clicked as it faced forward. The two settled into a companionable silence.

The trees were thinning out around them letting the path feed into a wider road. Rotting fences lined the pumpkin patch herding them towards an overgrown garden. Small oddly shaped gourds littered the ground. Most were smashed and pecked apart by birds. Cracked seeds were scattered all around them. Wally looked across the overgrown field and noticed a house tucked in the shadow of a few large weeping willows. 

"What is that place?" There was a yawning hole on the roof eating any light that chanced on it. The home looked to be bending at the sides sinking into itself. A single window was left wide open staring at them.

"It's been abandoned. There was a farm here a long time ago," Frank's head turned as they continued walking, "The pumpkins grow year round." 

"Oh." He jogged to catch up with Frank. 

They continued on in silence with Frank leading the way. The sky remained blue with the occasional coasting white cloud. If not for the dampness of the ground they walked on, they might have thought the storm was imagined. Birds chirped as they hopped about drying themselves in the afternoon sun. Together, they continued on until they reached a part where stems covered the path like thick rope. 

"Watch your step." They carefully tiptoed through it with Frank leading the way. Their hand was held out to Wally helping him find the trickier footfalls. As they stumbled onto the other side of the path, a lone pumpkin came into view. It was large and a bright orange color. The flesh was unmarked and it was pleasantly plump.

"All the other pumpkins look so.. smashed." Wally muttered to himself as he peeked from behind Frank.

"That's what drew me in when I first saw it." Frank shrugged as they stepped closer and knelt down. 

Frank wrapped their hands around the stem. With a grunt they twisted the stem. When it gave way the pumpkin hissed as trapped air was released. A trail of steam escaped into the breeze. Wally stared intently as Frank placed it on the ground. From within its guts a hum emanated growing in volume. A blue light grew until it illuminated Frank's face. Their head clicked as it turned to face Wally. 

Before either of them could speak a flurry of letters were spat from the depthless void. With a scream, Frank fell backwards tumbling down onto a patch of woven vines. Wally stumbled backwards as well tripping over his shoe as the stuffed envelopes fluttered down around him. One fell near him landing face up. His eyes widened as he recognized the scrawled lettering of his name. 

"They responded." Wally sat staring at the letter that settled with the dirt.

Frank picked up an envelope that landed on their face, "Did it need to be so many?" 

Wally gathered up the letters near to him before rushing over to Frank. He took their hand and tried his best to pull him out from the vines. When they wouldn't budge, Wally started to untangle the overlapping vines. After a few minutes Frank was finally free and standing on the path. Their hair was coated with dried leaves. Dirt stained their clothes. 

"Before I take us back to the neighborhood, and I get in the shower, you should leave something for them." Frank was dusting their clothes, but failed to remove the worsening stains. 

Wally was picking up the letters that remained scattered around, "I have something I wrote for them a while ago. I never asked Eddie to send it, it was very emotional." 

"Is that what you'd like to send?" They asked, dusting off their pants. 

"Yes." Wally bundled the letters together, giving them to Frank who took them carefully in hand. 

Wally removed a folded paper from his pocket. Inside was a revised collection of his thoughts during the first few days after Y/N slipped from his grasp and fell into the yawning abyss below. Wally sighed as he rubbed his earring between his fingers. He kneeled down to be closer to the void. As he stared into it a chill leaked from within. It fanned gently across his face. Wally held the letter out and let it slip from his grasp. 

[shywhumpauthor]

Okay imma request a good one

Yandere whumper x ex lover whumpee :))))

It took me a hot sec to find a direction for this, thanks to @painsandconfusion for the assistance. Once I did, though, it came along pretty easily. Sorry it’s a shorter piece, I’m tired lol

Cw: gaslighting, abuse, implied abuse, implied kidnapping, noncon touching, conditioning, manipulation, physical assault, violence, implied murder, abusive relationships (implied), obsessive whumper, lmk if I missed anything

“Whumper- Whumper stop,” Whumpee gasped, their voice strained with a breathless fear. Their hands fumbled as they tried to grab onto Whumper’s arm, but they were simply shoved back, the half-attentioned push nearly sending them sprawling across the floor.

“Stay out of this, Whumpee,” Whumper growled, not bothering to look up as they continued their merciless assault. Their fist flew with a terrible crunched, splatters of red spraying across the light beige carpet.

Nausea churned in Whumpee’s stomach like a ship lurching against a night storm’s waves. The room spun, their ears ringing so loud they blocked out the pained wheezes and rasps. Whumpee stumbled, their back hit against a shelf, nearly sending the books that sat on the top ledge tumbling. They managed to grab onto the first hold they could find, barely supporting their weight as their knees locked.

Until that moment, they had never really understood what being frozen in place meant. They had always assumed it was stupid, an excuse to not help in dire situations of stress. Their legs were frozen, they couldn’t move. Only watch as the train whistled and neared the helpless person tied to its tracks. Metaphoric, they had claimed it was. A figure of speech, an idiom.

For the first time, they were starting to realize what it meant. Their entire body was cold, but it didn’t feel frozen. More like a bitter burn, like the lash of winter’s wind against exposed flesh all across their skin, head filled with the howl of the breeze. It was as if they had simply forgotten how to move, rather. Their legs wouldn’t obey their mind, hands wouldn’t release the shelf they so desperately grasped onto for support. It was true, they could only watch as the brutality continued, as more and more blood puddled against their nice carpet until Caretaker’s muffled cries went quiet.

When Whumpee finally swung their leg over, shaking out their fist as if it was nothing more than an ache, Whumpee hadn’t fully comprehended the scene. Their form half concealed by the legs of the table, Whumpee couldn’t see the upper half of Caretaker’s body. But If Whumper’s fists were anything to go off of, Whumpee was sure they didn’t want to see.

“Oh god..” The words slipped from their lips, airless and stale like a breath that had been held for much too long. A terrible rush flooded their system, the feeling blooming in their chest where their heart hammered against their ribs with enough force to crack. “Did… did you..”

“Shh, my love, you don’t have to worry about them anymore.”

And all in a moment, things went quiet. Whumper raised their hand, their touch ever so delicate as they moved to cup Whumpee’s cheek. Their fingers were warm and wet, but Whumpee didn’t think about that. In half a second, it was all lost to the void. The touch seized everything, every thought and action from their working mind, they were nothing but the flicker of warmth between the skin to skin contact. The gentle caress as Whumper looked tenderly into their eyes, the specks of blood on their face unseen in the dimmed lights.

It took Whumpee a second to recover enough to gather their dispelled recollections enough to gain the sense to pull away.

“Don’t-” Whumpee’s voice cracked, what they had tried to release as an order coming out but a pitiful squeak. They shuddered, the movement turning more into a jolt than anything as they stepped aside, stepped away. “Oh my god, did you-”

“They were hurting you, Whumpee. I didn’t have a choice.” Whumper moved with them, not ever letting them put more than a few inches of distance between the two. Whumpee’s throat burned, their eyes burned, pressure building up in their sinuses until they felt as if they were going to explode. Their vision blurred, world tilted wildly askew as tears cluttered their eyes.

“No, no they- they weren’t.” Oh god, this couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be happening again. Caretaker was good, caretaker was good to them. Whumpee knew that. They knew that and no matter what Whumper said, Whumpee would know that. Caretaker was good.

“You see, sweetheart,” Whumper sighed, their eyes softening with a pitiful smile, more in attempts to comfort than joy. “I tried to let you be. I did. Just a few weeks without me, and look at the mess you’ve gotten yourself into…”

Whumpee’s cheeks burned, face burned. Everything burned as the tears finally overflowed, slipping down their cheeks to soak their shirt’s neckline. Their breath hitched as they backed against the wall, trapped when Whumper raised a hand to their head. The touch was even softer this time, thumb ghosting over Whumpee’s lips, jaw, brushing away a tear path as if rolled down.

“What would you have done if I wasn’t here to help, my love,” They murmured quietly, gaze falling from Whumpee’s eyes to rest on their neck. Half a moment, was all it was, but Whumpee didn’t fail to miss the way their finger played against their neck, toying before hooking up under their chin, tilting their head up to meet their eyes once more. “You poor thing, you must have been so lost without me… come on, I’ll take you back home, get you cleaned up. You’ll never have to worry about Caretaker or any of this ever again.”

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Part two