#snazzy slugs

[molasses-house]

Cigarettes and Cereal Milk

I was 12 when I started working at the Jersey Shore grocery & deli.  It was old school with no air conditioning, some pinball machines and Ms. Pacman with only a counter and stools that would be filled in the morning with old men.  They’d sit reading Racing Form and the Bergen Record - slugging down their coffees, smoking their cigars or cigarettes and eating the State Delicacy of Pork Roll, Egg and Cheese on a hard roll.

Ran by a fiery Italian couple from Brooklyn (or the Bronx?) and partially by their two adult children, I was initially hired to work Saturdays and Sundays to stock and stuff the then-thick Sunday newspapers with inserts: comic pages, circulars, auto, arts and classified sections that made the weekly paper as big as a Bible or the yellow pages phone book.

For me, summer and a job at the deli was jubilant.  It was freedom.  I’d leave for our 1950′s era seaside bungalow with my family the day school ended and hardly go back “north” (about an hour and change away from our home in North Brunswick) the whole summer.  Like clockwork, every Saturday afternoon I would race down our lane of bungalows across Central Avenue to get to work and do the same at the crack of dawn on Sunday mornings.  

Along with my newspaper responsibilities, I had the pleasure of refilling the coolers with cans of Coke, Tab and Dr. Pepper.  I’d wipe down the pinball machines, replenish the Milky Ways, Gobstoppers and Fun Dip.  I even got to venture behind the counter to restock the cigarette display cases.  

Everybody smoked cigarettes or so it seems.  It was the late 80’s and although the Surgeon Generals Warnings were in full effect – nobody seemed to give a shit.  Cigarettes at the deli cost $1.50 a pack.  I remember when a new tax was introduced that pushed them close to $2 and it was like someone canceled Christmas.  Angry brows and hard scoffs abounded.

In those days – cigarette packaging and marketing was an art form.  A literal science! The shiny, little packs of smokes were like works of art.  

Shiny, snazzy and colorful rows of greens, beiges, reds, blues, pinks, gold, silver, and bronze with dramatic names that sounded like television soap operas or westerns or legal dramas:

Bel Air

Salems

Winstons

Benson & Hedges

Parliaments

Kent

Chesterfields

Capri

Lucky Strikes

Virgina Slims

Camel

Newport

Vantage

True Blue

Carlton

Kool

Lark

Tareyton

Marlboro (duh)

Viceroy

Merit

I was enamored.  Ripping open the fresh cartons of vibrant sophistication and stacking them neatly in rows – it was like a tobacco Tetris.  Seemingly, everyone smoked.  The surfers, the lifeguards, the boomers, the Greatest Generation, the beach badge checkers, the cops, and the kids that also worked at the store…all puffers.  My father was also a smoker.  A secret smoker.  The worst kept secret ever.  Despite a massive heart attack that required open heart surgery at the age of 37…he couldn’t shake it.  He’d have to slip away to go tend to “yardwork” and come back smelling like an ashtray and the family (me, my brother, sister and mother) would pretend to not notice the waft of smokey perfume that he’d come back into the house with…for decades!

I don’t remember when I picked up the habit definitively but it was between middle school (8th grade) and high school (9th grade).  Eerily, I mimicked the actions of my dad.  Stashing packs of cigarettes deep within drawers or in my little lockbox adorned with childish stickers.  I’d keep handy a bottle of cologne (probably Drakkar Noir or some ilk of it’s day) and whisk outside the minute the parents left the house and crouch down outside against the side of the house near the BBQ grill to fume a Marlboro.  

I was in my early teens but looked like a contradiction…tall, superskinny and blonde but self-consciously young for my age.  How did I purchase these vile decks of cancer sticks?  It was shamefully easy.  In those days, there was no legal age to buy them.  During the off-season and away from the seaside store, I could hop on my bike and ride to any number of convenience stores in the area of my “northern” home.  For $2 (and change as the prices rose higher), I could satisfy my physical and mental cravings usually without a hitch.  

If the purveyor did have some tinge of guilt serving cigarettes to a pubescent-ish Ricky Schroeder lookalike…I had a cover story in my back pocket:  

“My grandmother (or aunt or step-sister) hurt her legs and can’t get around real well, kind sir” was a standard lie.  If I was really organized, I’d have a friend waiting by their landline telephone to pretend to be said relative and say to the clerk, “She said you can call her.”  99.9% of the time that worked like a charm and only once did a phone call actually get made and “Kim” – an older girl by a couple of years magically performed the part of the ailing kin.

Freshman year of high school, I took the bus – having not yet made friends with anyone with a drivers license.  The bus would pick me up on the back street parallel to mine.  I’d wake up (usually with a teenage attitude fueled by nicotine withdrawal) and eat some breakfast before the bus.  In order NOT to miss my ride, I had the timing down like a Swiss watch maker.

Breakfast consisted of a Benadryl (allergies), a cup of coffee (light and sweet – and yes the Stankovits kids were all early coffee drinkers…) and usually some cereal.  We weren’t allowed real sugary cereals so we had to “settle” for Rick Krispies, Chex or Raisin Bran and the occasional Cap’N’Crunch.  Depending on the sugar content, I’d pour the milk over the cereal and dollop a spoonful of sugar in the bowl.  After the crackles of crispy rice or soggy lumps of bran were consumed, there was the sweet reward of the leftover cereal milk.  It was like breakfast’s dessert.  

I’d slurp that down and head out the door, towards the end of our dead-end street where there was and still is a section of woods where I could cut through to the next street where the bus would pick me up.

Lighting up, I would get my fix and mentally prepare for the day ahead standing in the woods next to the wooden fence that captured the backyard of the last house on our block.  It was meditative.  Who the hell knows what I was thinking about…”Algebra quiz!  Fall Dance!  Fuck, am I queer?  I can’t wait to drive and get the hell out of here?!”  

The bus would come and I’d hop on with a waft of smokey aroma and cheap cologne enshrining me like Pig Pen from Peanuts.  Usually, a pack would last a week or more.  I’d check my pack to see how many cigarettes I had left before I had to begin another hunt…hiding away my Marlboros in my duffle bag (those were in style...) until the last school bell rang…ready to repeat another day.  Inhale, exhale.  Inhale, exhale.

[bending-sickle]

yesterday i sewed a new cloth cover for the terrarium from old pjs because the quasi-paper one i’ve been using is getting ragged, and i was so happy with the result, and last night some snail idiot ate two holes in it. the snail barrier has been breached and it is edible. goddamn.

[mia-magicant]

I organized my marbles tonight! 🔮 I also have exciting ideas to bring tomorrow!!<3

[seadragonaniciavt]

Slug is BACK with some snazzy new PC parts~ Besides the internet issues, streams should run smoother now! Coming back with our first Ring Fit Stream with Heart Rate Monitor~ As for 'More' we'll be either finishing the Gunpla from the Ani-versary plans or if the upload is laggy, some Pokemon and chill~

[raguna-blade]

So i’ve had this floating in my head for a while and well...There’s going to be some obvious straightforward “That’s absolutely not what they intended, I can’t envision it as a thing cause I mean it’s that.”

But I wanna talk about the way the gacha mechanics reflect on the story of Arknights.

So here’s the thing. It’s all about trust. Literally it’s all about trust. One of the things that Arknights makes really clear in it’s story is that there is a very very real problem with people just taking things on faith and listening to each other. The big central conflict, as of now, with the issues between the infected and the non? All of it is based on a massive breach of trust because the infected to a man know that the uninfected are going to make their lives a living hell, even if they’re a model citizen. Hell even if they’re part of the big wig nobility upper class it’s basically a crapshoot if catching the in game plague is going to torpedo you to the depths of the pecking order and ruin your life or “merely” have you waste away from a degenerative disease that causes rocks to grow out of your skin, is horrifically painful, and can cause wild and terrifying super powers that can have you control temperatures wildly, suddenly start reading peoples minds, or create a horde of zombies (although admittedly these require training to use, let alone use in combat but it does seem true that the powers kinda work without it albeit probably much worse)

So trust is a big thing here obviously, and that leads me to the next point.

The Doctor is the sketchiest motherfucker I have ever seen in my life. They’re this mysterious person wrapped up in a coat that exposes exactly none of their body, they down sanity potions like water, they’re a super tactical genius the likes the world hasn’t seen, and also save for your scary Medicine Boss Lady and Their Adopted Kid (who runs your hospital knight order) nobody knows anything about them at all.

And the few people who DO know the doctor from the past seem keen to stay the hell away from him (excluding Boss Bunny, which actually considering what the Doctor was like right before their amnesia should PROBABLY be more concerning?)

And the last point before I start tying this all together, from all indications story wise? Any and all Operators that you choose to use are already there. They’re already working with or are a part of Rhodes Island proper. They’re in the background sure and they may not know the doctor personally but they are already there is the important thing.

Barring certain event characters tied to certain events they’re already part of Rhodes Island in some way.

Which leads me to my little gacha connection.

The Gacha here indicates a willingness to trust the Doctor (and perhaps if we’re gonna dive into this further, a broader connection and willingness to support RI’s cause, and an active display of trust because you know this dude is going to be sending you into a combat zone. In a story where people sometimes just hot die because sorry bro it’s a war story at least in part)

Now i’ll admit the specifics of the gacha don’t work for this perfectly because you’re calling back the same people sometimes which has weird implications (although I think you could chalk it up to doctor getting to better know people and how to pull the very best out of them if we wanna keep the story mechanic connection strong.) There’s only so much you can do with what is mechanically just rolling the dice a bunch...

Except...The Pity Mechanics have neat little implications too! There’s the Guaranteed 5/6 Star mechanic, as well as the guaranteed 6 star after I think it was 100 Rolls, as well as the Guaranteed Limited Character when you roll 300(???) times on their banner.

And Recruitment via the papers works here too.

One sec lemme order the thoughts a bit better

The Headhunting and Recruitment Rolls are, in universe terms, a character actively signing on to work with the Doctor Specifically, as well as signing on fully with Rhodes Islands objectives and ideals. It's not enough to have a business deal with them for treatment of you or your people. It's not enough to have a roof over your head. It's not enough to simply have another place to fight, or access to the person you want to fight.

You are trusting this mysterious no face no history manipulator to put you into combat situations with utter monsters and you're trusting them to either see you through it alive (which is a thing they're eeriely good at) or at least to have your death really tangibly mean something (also something in short supply on Terra). You're trusting this organization that simultaneously wants to heal the world of a horrifying disease, protect those who are infected, and also seemingly really make the world a better place (fat chance)

Not to mention the counseling the Doctor also seems to provide which you know...

That's absurd. It's insane.

And it's reflected in both Rarity Level, as well as the manner of recruitment.

Tag Recruitment pulls mostly from a pool of people already associated with Rhodes Island, with the vast majority being low level recruits. Basically all of 3* and below come from RI, and of 4* up only about half do.

That is to say, using the method that costs you the least amount of money and effort (Originium is, in universe, actually pretty valuable and useful if also you know the source of the plague) most of the people that you can actually recruit already sign on to RI's whole thing for one reason or another and everyone else is there for a variety of other reasons.

The people recruited are also generally unskilled, owing to largely being newbies or generally just not being super tough, but then this also plays into it.

RI is in general, or at least ideally anyway, a Hospital First and Military anything a distant second. Ideally, but it doesn't necessarily play out that way (or at least we as players don't get to see it, and there does seem to be a general work if you want treatment but the portrayal so far scales the work to what you can do. Kids gotta work too but for them it's like...Make some Origami, play and go to school and that's your work which could be sinister sure but seems mostly not)

But even accepting that conditions for infected are awful basically everywhere, leaving your home is a big ask, and fighting for people who may in fact end up fighting against your home is also a big ask. It's not something you're gonna see low level folks do by and by.

But the people recruitment DOES pick up who are those higher level folks? They're generally sent specifically to Rhodes Island if they didn't come specifically because they're some of the foremost scholars on the subject of Originium Infection and so on. A lot of them don't have a choice.

Understandably, no matter how skilled or powerful or conneted they are they're not gonna wanna work with you or put themselves in danger for no real reason

And then you have the cases of people who are or were leaders in their field, arguable or actual royalty, people who hold massive amounts of power who are just...Not going to trust like that. They're wise to the world, and they know what's up.

That they're also massively personally powerful is perhaps a side effect of being so high up in the ranks because when you have people who can and do hop out of planes for a snazzy entrance with no harm and at least 8 kinds of completely uninfected Juggernaut Nightmares not being absolutely shredded when you're the big leader of a place is a liability.

Which ok that tracks, but Headhunting? Headhunting is where you start finding people like Skadi who are just...Absolute freaks of nature being honest. You start seeing people who have even less reason to want to have anything to do with Rhode Islands, more guarded, more independent, less reason to be actively into RI despite being there (like Popukar who's a kid)

And then you have the limited pool characters like W and Nian who have ample reason to not want to deal with the Doctor or are just kinda bumming around and Could Help but don't want to (with secret implications to being basically a Kaiju)

And getting them is difficult and painful and nearly impossible because they don't WANT to interact with the Doctor or perhaps really want to put the effort in to do anything at all.

All of this I think is pretty sound so far. Generally speaking, higher ranked characters have less need or want to deal with the Doctor and the Larger Rhodes Island, in addition to be just being from other locations entirely.

What I think makes this more interesting though, and continues on the gacha story link is the pity mechanics.

So, going with the idea that recruitment is more or less deciding to interact with the weird person who tries to eat originium slugs(!?) it makes the decision of various high ranked operators deciding yeah you know what I'm going to go talk to this weirdo. A LOT of people seem to trust him and that's perhaps concerning, but also well...It's a lot of people. People I know (in all probability. Especially in the case of banner rolls where there's usually one or two people who know the high rank units), and even then there's some wild folks in there deciding to put their faith in them...And Heck I'm already here so why not.

And of course that feeds into the trust mechanics too mind you. The more a unit is used, the more the doctor is demonstrating their small extension of trust is proven a good decision. The Increasing potentials is understandable as the doctor coming to a greater understanding of the individual (indeed they're all tokens of trust in some way shape or form aren't they? Things that Mean something to the Operator, even if they're implied to be things that they hate to think about or be connected but still unfortunately mean something that they can't let go of). And or, for that matter, the Operator becoming more open around the Doctor. Becoming more willing to show their full strength, and honestly, playing on the trust angle, isn't it interesting that so many of the operators talents don't come into play until they've been upgraded once or even twice? But hey if we look at it through the lens of Do I trust this person, some of these talents suggest really impressive things which maybe you don't want this guy who you barely know but you're at least willing to work with to know just in case it doesn't work out. TO say nothing else of the fact that upgrades COST. It's a massive investment of money time and supplies to get an operator up there.

Which, to come back to gacha and the pity mechanics, for the two limited characters to call for (at maximum mind you. Luck as always is a factor but you know) truly EXCESSIVE amounts of rolls, and rolls that call for you burning a massive amount of supplies? It can read as, honestly, an attempt to reach out to this isolated person. Mind it's just an extension on the pity bit from before, but given the limited nature it could also be read as a “I am trying to get to know you please respond?”

And For Nian and W that may well mean something. It's a degree of effort that could read as interesting and or alarming given their respective personalities and histories.

But well..that's about as far as I can pull this I think. As always there's going to be an aspect of well “it's monetization don't think too hard about this it's for that cold hard cash” which is absolutely and unfortunately true. Still, I think it's interesting that it DOES line up as well as it does here. If it's intentional that's really cool actually but still.

[takadasaiko]

One Hundred and Eighty Days (a Veronica Mars one shot)

FFN II AO3

Summary: Logan returns from his six month tour in the Persian Gulf. Part of my Spanning Years. Continents. series.

One Hundred and Eighty Days

Six months.

One hundred and eighty days.

It had seemed doable, especially following the nine years of silence that had spread between them after she'd left for Stanford. It wasn't like Veronica didn't have plenty to focus on with her father's recovery and getting back into the swing of the PI business. It helped to have her friends by her side rather than across the country, and the ability to - at least on occasion - Skype with Logan while he was away. She never would have anticipated that one hundred and eighty days could feel so fucking long.

She hadn't been sure she could meet his ship as it came into port. Forty-eight hours before she was knee-deep in a new case and twenty-four hours before she was neck-deep into it. Logan had told her not to worry about it. She'd be there or she wouldn't, but he wouldn't hold it against her if the case wouldn't give her a chance to get away. He knew how hard she was working. That carefully cool voice of his over their last Skype call rang in her mind and drove her crazy. So crazy that three hours before he was due in - up to her eyeballs in the case - both her father and Mac had demanded that she drive down to San Diego. He'd left his car with her anyway, right? Right. She should go pick him up.

Veronica made record time down to the Naval base where he would be docking and was shuffled through each checkpoint. Every time she expected to hit a snag, her name appeared on all the right lists. Logan may have said that it wasn't a big deal if she couldn't make it, but he'd clearly made sure she had a straight path in if she chose to show.

The docks were busy with husbands and wives, boyfriends and girlfriends. New mothers pointed at the ship to their babies like they had any clue that that's where their dads had been for the entirety of their short lives. Veronica weaved in and out of the crowd, watching and listening and observing. Conversations about how long they'd been gone, about information sent home, about plans once they disembarked. Everybody was excited, which left Veronica - as she often was - the odd one out. She should be excited, she knew, but really she was just left with a tremendous amount of anxiety.

It wasn't that she wasn't excited to see Logan again, but she was equal parts terrified. As long as he was gone they were both looking forward to his homecoming. It gave them a goal, a north star to focus on. Now that his ship was docked and it looked like they'd start letting the officers off soon, Veronica couldn't push down the overwhelming fear that they'd fall back into old patterns. Chaos came to their door, they gave into the magnetic pull that felt so right in the moment, but it inevitably turned bitter as one or both of them did something to spoil it. There'd been so much pain in their past that sometimes she wondered if either of them were capable of healthy relationships. Logan, at least, seemed to be trying in a lot of ways, but it was easy in the short sprint of time that was her arrival back in Neptune to help him choose a lawyer and him shipping out. Now that they were both going to be in the same town, she knew it could make or break them, and after everything she wasn't sure she could take another break.

This was where she usually ran. Distanced herself and fled for the hills.

But here she was. Waiting for him.

She hoped it wasn't going to crush her.

Cheers sounded from the crowd and Veronica looked to where sailors were disembarking in their snazzy white uniforms. She waited and watched from her place where she could actually see - at least at a distance - who was leaving the ship, and finally spotted a familiar figure. Her heart leapt in her chest and her feet were moving before she gave them permission to. "Excuse me. Yeah. Sorry." She pushed her way through the crowd in the general trajectory of where she'd seen Logan making his way down and finally broke through the other side to find no familiar faces.

She'd missed him. He must have already gone…. wherever they went when they got home.

"Veronica?"

Veronica turned, recognizing the voice instantly above the rumble of the rest. Logan stood with the same bag he'd had slung over his shoulder the day he'd left, his hat perched on his head, and his thin lips slowly stretching out into a smile. "You made it."

She echoed his smile and then some as she launched forward and heard the sound of his laugh - full, not the amused chuckle she so often got over Skype - in her ear as he wrapped his arms around her. Her legs went around his middle and she felt him spin her around, kissing the side of her head because it was the only part of her he could reach.

He shifted her just a little so that she could lean into a real kiss, her lips melting against his and she felt him set her down carefully, deeping it. His hands rested on either side of her face and one of hers reached around to the back of his neck. He wasn't getting away until she let him, and that wasn't going to be anytime soon.

"Echolls, that her?" someone shouted off to the side and Logan reluctantly broke the kiss. He was still grinning and the other man that was wearing the same wings on his uniform that Logan sported gave him a mock salute and a wink, even as a woman slugged him in the shoulder, laughing.

Logan turned his attention back to her. "You got some time?"

"For you, I can make it," she answered.

Somehow his grin grew and he pecked a kiss to the tip of her nose. "Let's get home."

                                                   ---------

Home was a relative term. Logan had been living out of a small, studio-styled guesthouse off of Dick's main house on the beach before he'd shipped out. While Dick had another high school buddy - was there any other kind for Dick Casablancas? - moving in soon, he wasn't there yet and Logan still had run of it for at least his first few days back. If he needed to find a new place was a problem for another day. That night, he was home, Veronica was going to take full advantage of the fact that they had privacy there that they never would have gotten at her father's place. She really hoped one of those apartments she'd been looking at came available soon. This was going to be problematic if they had no place to go other than her dad's place.

Logan's kisses were as desperate as her own as he carried her into the little apartment, his bag forgotten in the car parked outside and she was already tugging his uniform off. It was a blur of motion as they moved towards the bed that she hoped had been made up since the last time she'd been in it. They fell back and Veronica reveled in the fact that he was there with her and that he wouldn't have to leave first thing in the morning.

Some time later she was still reminding herself of that fact as they both lay back, pillows thrown from their place and neither of them wearing anything that they had been before. They were wrapped up in the sheets and she was curled up against him. She ran a bare foot up his leg and his fingers sent chills up her spine as they moved up her back, his touch light and delicate like he was savouring it.

This wasn't their first time back together after nine years apart, but it was the first time where they didn't have something looming over them. If it wasn't a false murder charge and her father in the hospital, it had been his orders to ship out as soon as everything was cleared. Now, back on shore-duty, they had some time. Time that left them lounging in bed, her hands traveling over exposed skin, and Veronica couldn't ignore the scars that she knew hadn't been there years before.

Logan caught her hand as it lingered against one just below his ribs, maybe two inches long, and pulled her fingers up to press a gentle kiss to them. He didn't say anything, but she caught his gaze and held it. "Am I allowed to ask?"

A rough chuckle left him. "You're Veronica Mars. I didn't realize you needed permission to ask anything."

Her fingers curled around his and she pressed herself up on her elbow so that she was looking down at him. His expression was soft. He wasn't going to volunteer anything, but he also wasn't telling her not to ask. He was just waiting on her.

"Where'd you get the scar, Logan?"

He pushed a long breath out from his nose. "About four years ago we were flying over… an undisclosed location -" he offered her an apologetic smile and she nodded the small acceptance - "and we came under fire. Shit happened, we had a hard landing, I took some shrapnel."

"Holy shit," she breathed, her fingers moving back to the scar that stood out against his skin.

"Yeah, wasn't fun, but I bounced back."

"Wallace always said you had nine lives."

His lips tugged outward at that. "I should probably check in on how many I have left."

"What…. happens?" she asked carefully, not sure exactly how she should phrase the question. "When you're on deployment and you get hurt, I mean."

He leaned back a little deeper into his pillow, loosing another breath. He wasn't comfortable with talking about this, that much was clear, but if she were to make a bet on it he wasn't used to it. Logan had never been one to volunteer certain things about his life. If people didn't push, he wouldn't say anything. She'd always been one to push. No stopping it now. If they were going in on this, they were going all in.

"When you enlist you have to give them a next of kin. I mean, technically, mine is Trina, I guess? Hell if I was gonna list her though."

Veronica snorted softly, her fingers moving across his torso to lightly scrap his ribs. She felt him tense at that, but certainly not in a bad way. "So who'd you list?"

Logan grimaced at the question. "Dick."

"Casablancas?" she choked out.

He shrugged. "Listen, I know Dick's an… acquired taste, sometimes, but he's loyal. More loyal than most of the people in my life." He sighed and Veronica felt him tighten his hold on her just a little. "People around me leave in one way or the other. Lilly died, my mom died, Duncan left… I'm not blaming anybody, just…. the way it is. Dick can be an asshole, but if I ever need him he's there."

She lay there for a long moment, her fingers still tracing up and down his side and she let his words soak in. If he had died overseas in these last six months - hell, if he'd been injured - she would have been at the mercy of Dick Casablancas to get her the news. Loyal he might be - at least to Logan - but that wasn't acceptable. Not in the longterm, and she wanted this to be longterm.

"Can you change it?"

"Change what?"

"The person who… I don't know. Gets that call?" Again, she felt like she was floundering for the right terminology. As she'd filtered through the crowd on the docks earlier that day it'd felt like people had been speaking a different language. She hadn't known what the acronyms meant or how to decipher what was being said. It was fine. It had all been in passing. But it wasn't, not really. Not if she was honest about wanting Logan in her life.

"Sure," he answered. "I'd just have to update my file."

"Then do it."

He huffed a small laugh. "Do what?"

"Change it. To me."

He tensed at that, catching her gaze. "Veronica….You'd be listed as my next of kin," he said slowly, as if somehow he thought she didn't understand that.

"I know."

"And you're good with that?"

"Are you?"

His lips twitched upward. "I am, but you..." He sighed. "What if the call comes in the middle of a case? What if you should have your focus on something else and you -"

Veronica leaned down, cutting the words off with a kiss. She felt his hands travel up her sides and pull her deeper into it. "I want you," she breathed out, her lips still dangerously close to his. "And I want you to know when you're out there that you have me to face if you let them hurt you."

Logan chuckled at that, leaning up to steal another kiss. "I love you. I never stopped."

"Me neither," she admitted softly. "I wanted to, but…. I think it was pretty obvious when you called after nine years and I flew cross country."

"I didn't know if you would."

"Yeah you did, you asshole," she laughed, kissing him again. "You knew it."

"I hoped." He shifted, easing her around so that she was on her back and he leaned over her. "You really want me to make the change?"

"I do."

"It's a big step. I know it doesn't sound like it, but -"

"Logan," she breathed, "I'm not going anywhere. Not this time. You and me, we're epic."

He grinned and leaned into the kiss. "Years and continents," he whispered.

"Bloodshed," she answered back and he laughed.

"You do love the bloodshed."

"Because anyone that comes after you -" her fingers danced across the four-year-old scar - "they have to come up against me too."

"And this is how we win the War on Terror," he chuckled as his kisses moved down to her jaw line and her neck.

Veronica wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in closer. This was it. One hundred and eighty days or nine years, it didn't matter. They always came back to each other. This time, though, she was determined that they would stay. She was his family now.

                                                  ---------

Notes:

I actually started on another fic and then this one just sort of tumbled into place as a compilation of a couple of different ideas that ended up fitting together very well. I love the idea of Veronica being listed as his next of kin if anything were to happen and that being a way that she's choosing to support him when she can't physically have his back.

I do feel like I should mention that I am not a member of the Navy, nor are any living members of my family, so there's a better than even chance I'll get a detail or ten wrong along the way, though from what I've heard canon does as well so there's that. :P

[hrodvitnon]

I'd say you nailed 'regal' WRT Mandazawa. Further props are deserved for the snazzy color scheme, grapple-capable limbs & spikes which I can only assume render each constriction attempt even more hellish.

Thanks, nonnie! His coloration and cerata were inspired by this cool little dude and real-life Pokémon the blue dragon sea slug

Apparently they eat Portuguese man o wars. Also, the babies look like this

Imagine if you will, baby Mandazawa floating up to Godzilla while he's recovering in the ocean and falling asleep on his snout.

[bonelessice]

So im writing more ventor stuff so i guess some stuff about ven’tars planet would be nice,so heres a drunk headcanon list:

the planets called Llimex, read the ll the way u would spanish words, like?? como se llama,,, with the??? y sound? Llimex.

the people there are noctournal...ish? mmostly theyre up and at em by the time the sun is going down and is no longer burning the sensitive skin of everyone down below. so that day everyones out in the sun?? no one is happy but hey, thatys when zarkon decided to show up so well, gotta wake up. Ven’tar had a pretty bad day that day. for obviioousl reasons.

the palnet gets a shit load of rain and its pretty cold. its also a very??? uh?? the climate?? lots of ffresh water, people stay away from the ocean as its salty and these people are pretty much just super advanced slugs its wont kill them fast but ouch. ven’tar watches lotor hop into the ocean in terror bc woiw. that bitch is going to die. when he comes out fine. its shocking.

ven’tars people, in the early days were evolving quickly and could originally not hear very well. once they did get that thato people began to really love, revere, and make intense cultural siginigance for music? that sentence is badly written. but basically the people of the plkanet are all about parties and having a good time, appreciating the gift of feeling. or something idk man.

ima keep it reall with yall its like. 4/20 on Llimex every day. the climate makes it a good place to grow lots of things like mushrooms and the likes that have some serious side effects on those eating them. long story short lotor did not know this and chowed down on some cream of shroom soup at a party and lost it. #shroomsonllimex mostly everyones pretty cool about it.

ven’tars dress was lookin pretty lit right? snazzy? well most of the people on hte planet wont wear too much fancy shit. they mostly wear something akin to swimwear since the planet is so wet and wet is good for their skin. you might find folks lounging in puddles, dirt, or mud bc wet=great. 

most people on llimex have shitty eyesight with their actual eyes and are better at seeing things with their little head tentacles. if someone rubs them on you theyre really just checkin u out a lil closer. its cool. but they can also smell with those so if u really dont want someone rubbing their head sticks all on u just wear something, spicy. on ur skin. allso they can KINDA smells with their regular eyes and sometimes u find kids playing games covering their head tentacles and holding things up to their eyes in little boxes with holes trying to discern the scent.

UHHH MAYBE I MAKE MORE LATER?

[kaberett]

Intensely Relatable tags by @bending-sickle: #snazzy snails #snazzy slugs #also my pet snails will NOT stop fucking and it's like guys GUYS you've hatched three egg batches already #at about 80 per batch that is too many babies

Slug and Snail Hair Clips // Rosalies Flowers

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Rise Up*

Chapter Thirty

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader  |  Word Count: 4432 Warnings: smut, swearing, NSFW, fluff 

Songs: I Choose You by Sara Bareilles,  At Last by Etta James

Steve could only stare in utter shock and awe at the vision before him and swallowed the thick lump of emotion threatening to choke him. “I… that’s… I…”

She pressed her hands to her abdomen. “Is it horrible? I never got a chance actually to see it, what with it being online. Buck said you’d shit and the girls said you’d like it, but do you hate it? Steve? Steven?”

Loki laughed. “Oh, darling. That is not the silence of a man who hates what he is seeing. It is one stunned into incoherent stuttering.” He snapped his fingers and flicked them at Steve. “There. I doubt you wish to spend the rest of the night in your armour. This is more in line with your Midgardian traditions I believe.” He turned and began to saunter away. “Do not take forever, lillesøster. There is celebrating to be had.”

“Steve?” she whispered, and he gave his head a shake.

“He’s right. Jeez, baby. This was your surprise? I can’t even…” He had no words to express how stunningly gorgeous she looked to him in that moment.

The incredible dress had ropes of tiny pearls and gems to hold it on her shoulders. A low bodice with a heart-shaped neckline lined with more tiny pearls. Lace, crystals, pearls, all graced the bodice, making pretty patterns in dips and swirls and flowers down to her knees where the dress fell away in a layer of unadorned tulle.

“Can… can you turn around?” he asked, his voice breathy and not at all sounding like him.

She smiled, evidently hearing the desire and awe in his words and turned to show him her back. The deep v went to just above her waist, more rows of draped seed pearls dripped down her shoulders, coming to a point where a satin bow sat in pride of place just above her waist.

Loki had taken her hair up, twisting it into a knot of curls and braids while leaving the moonstone crown glowing on her brow. Her gauntlet reflected silver and gleamed against the dress. Her ring shone. She just sparkled, a moon goddess granted to him by the hands of fate.

“I… I think… I may need to sit down,” he finally choked out but took the three strides he needed to reach her, step into her spine, and lay his lips on the bared nape of her neck. His fingers latched around the locket resting on her chest, and he held it in his fist, his hand against the beat of his girl’s heart. Tears burned his eyes as he held her tight to his chest.

“I take it you like it?” she laughed a little, but her voice was hoarse.

“I fucking love it,” he whispered against her skin. “It’s… I guess you’d call it a modern take on a forties era wedding dress. Buck… shit… he did good. But you make it perfect, baby.”

“Steven,” she gave a half sob and held onto the arm he had locked around her waist.

“Thank you,” he sighed and kissed her bare shoulder. “Thank you, dollface. This is… you didn’t have to, but I’m so glad you did.”

“I hated the fact I felt like you didn’t have a say. Rushed you into the wedding, forced you to follow our traditions, disregarded so many of your own. This is our wedding. You should enjoy it, too.”

“Sweetheart,” he sighed and kissed her throat before allowing her to turn around and lift her arms to his neck. “It was enough to see you walking toward me wearing this.” He gently touched the locket. “It was like having my ma here, even if I know she couldn’t be.”

“She’s here, Stevie. I believe she’s here, watching. I hope she’s happy for you.”

“She would be,” he murmured, caressing her cheek. “She’d only have to meet you once to know how right you were for me.”

A flush darkened her cheeks to go with her pleased smile. “And look at you, all cleaned up. Got to admit, you’re looking pretty snazzy yourself, Rogers. What colour is this suit?”

He looked down and gave a bark of surprised laughter, having not even noticed the missing armour. “Dark grey I think. Hard to tell in the dark.”

“Well, Captain. Whatever the colour, I’m looking forward to leading you around by that tie later tonight.”

“Oh? Kinky. You gonna save that stuff for the honeymoon?” he teased.

She stepped into him and forced him to step back, step by step until he sat down hard on a padded bench when his knees connected with it.

***

You stepped between his spread legs. “Captain, if I didn’t know damn well one of these nosy as fuck Avengers would come looking, I’d show you just how kinky I can get with that tie,” you purred.

His hands were on your knees, drawing the bottom of the dress up slowly. “Yeah? I bet we’ve got at least ten minutes before someone comes lookin’,” he snickered, his grin broad.

His hands went beneath your skirt, skimmed the backs of your thighs and drifted up to close big hands over your ass cheeks. A rather loud groan escaped him when he pulled you closer. “Why are you commando?”

“What?” you squeaked, only to have his fingertips drag over your completely bare skin. “Fucking trickster! Had to get his fun in somehow. Big jerk!”

“Bless him,” Steve groaned. “I one hundred percent forgive him for making me think I wasn't your sjelevenn with this one act of compassion.”

You laughed even as his fingers pressed hard against your flesh. “How is this compassion? Now you get to live with the knowledge I'm commando for the rest of the night?”

He froze, then his forehead dropped to your belly. “Dammit. You're right.”

“He's the God of Mischief for a reason, Steve,” you snickered while running your hands through his hair.

“I don't wike it.”

He was pouting, but the fact only made you giggle-snort. “Just think of it as a time saver later.”

“True.” His fingers skimmed your hip and over your belly before slipping between your legs and rubbing the gradually growing slick waiting there.

“Steven,” you sighed, both want and regret in his name.

“So, you never did tell me how this… mark comes about,” he said as he sought and found your bundle of nerves.

“You...expect me to talk while you do that?” you whined softly, loving how precise he was when he touched you. It took only seconds for him to have you hovering at the brink.

“Is a Valkyrie so easily distracted?” he teased. “I'm shocked!”

Your talons raked gently over his scalp, and he moaned, losing his rhythm for a split second before continuing the swift circling.

“Gods, Steven.” You couldn't stop your hips from rocking into his hand if you tried.

“Tell me about my mark, baby.”

A quiet moan saw you shifting toward him. You clenched your hand on his shoulder and continued to sift your fingers through his hair. The intense pleasure was quite thoroughly fogging your brain, but you fought past it to give him his answer. “It starts with us, together…” a small gasp escaped when his fingers sank deeper.

“Together? Together how?”

“Don’t be dense, Rogers,” you quipped and locked your knees to keep your legs from shaking.

“Ah, that way,” he chuckled and wrapped his arm beneath your buttocks, giving one a firm squeeze but helping hold you up.

“Such a gentleman,” you teased and tugged his hair. “While you are relaxing, letting me do all the work like the lazy slug you are-”

“Hey!” he huffed.

“-I’ll be working a bit of Valkyrie magic.” You tugged on his hair, pulling his head back to force his chin up. Holding him there, you lightly brushed your nails down the cords of his throat. “Right here, Steven. I’m going to work you up, drive you so wild, and when the time is right, I shall place my mark here and seal it, making you mine for all to see.”

“And what,” he breathed out on a shuddered when you scratched him with your nails, “does the mark mean?”

You closed your eyes, the flood of pleasure throbbing through your veins as he began to plunge his fingers through your walls with vigour, sending sensation slamming outward. The grip he had on your thighs tightened when your legs grew weaker. “Wings… wings of the Valkyrie…” you whimpered.

“And?” he growled, knowing precisely what he was doing to you.

“The rune… means… Rekker.” You threw your head back, so close to coming on his fingers you could barely breathe.

“And what does Rekker mean?”

“Steve…” Your hand closed spasmodically on his shoulder. “Stevie, please…”

“Tell me what Rekker means, and I’ll finish.”

“It means…” you sucked in a breath, “Warrior Man!” It was nearly a scream when the wave you’d been riding crested and poured through you, sending you sliding into bliss and profound pleasure as you fell against him. Panting softly, you rested your forehead on his and waited for your system to steady. “Oh… damn… Steve.”

He drew his hand from your core and out from beneath your dress. His fingers went into his mouth, and he sucked on them.

It was incredibly sexy and set you squeezing your thighs together.

He stroked his other hand down your leg and helped you sit on his thigh. “You’re so beautiful, baby.”

You chuckled softly and let your arms drape around his neck while he cuddled you close. “And you’re not at all biased.”

“Not at all,” he laughed, setting his chin on your hair. “So, warrior man, huh? There’s a special rune just to say soldier?”

“It doesn’t mean soldier. It means Warrior Man. Men who are warriors in the sense of their courage, bravery, deeds, and feats.” You set your hand on his cheek. “You’re a warrior, Stevie. It’s not just a job, but who you are in your soul.”

“And are all sjelevenn Rekker?” Steve asked.

“Usually,” you nodded. “They tend to join us in battle.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “I want my mark, sjelevenn.”

You laughed softly and ran your talons over his scalp with barely there pressure. “Oh, Steven. You’ll have it, but I promise you there isn’t nearly enough time to do all the things I have planned before someone comes looking for us.”

He growled and made you giggle. “Woman, don’t tease me. I’m already strainin’ these pants.”

“Are you now?” you asked, arching a mischievous brow as you let your hand trail slowly down his tie.

“Don’t start,” he huffed, grabbing your hand. “Let’s go before you get any friskier.”

“Me!” you laughed. “Who had whose hand up whose skirt but moments ago?”

He stood to his feet, taking you with him. “Yeah, well. I didn’t hear you complaining,” he smirked and kissed the end of your nose.

Snickering softly, you linked your arm through his and let him lead you toward the compound. The crunch of gravel beneath your combined feet filled the air, and you gave it enough time to reach the bridge before asking, “So, what did Sharon do?”

He stumbled and grabbed the railing to right himself. “Uh, why would you think she did anything?”

You arched a brow and threw him a sarcastic, “Really, Steven? This little interlude wasn't part of a distraction?”

“No, I, she… um… nothing?” His voice went up an octave.

“Sjelevenn…” you sighed and lifted your hands to his chest. “Just tell me. Not telling me is only making me think the worst.”

“How did you even know she’d done anything?” he asked.

“Between the way Bucky and Nat quick-marched her outta here practically at sword point, the nasty scowl she had on her face, and the way she glared at me? It was hard to miss. Now, quit stalling and just tell me.”

He sighed and linked his fingers with yours. “We figured out who the leak was.”

“Sharon!?” you gasped. “That seems… unlikely.”

“Not so much Sharon, but Eric. I guess he’s been listening in on mine and Sharon’s conversations. Tony figures he’s the one who sold us out to Ross.”

You frowned. “Okay, so he managed to piece together your generic conversation and pass along possibilities to Ross?”

“Yeah, and they’d put a transmitter on her phone.”

“Shit. No wonder she was angry. But what does that have to do with me?”

He sighed. “You know how she was engaged?”

“I’m assuming she isn’t any more or won’t be for long after this.”

“Apparently, she hasn’t been for weeks. He accused her of… well… of still having feelings for me, and they… broke up.”

“Oh,” you whispered. “And she does, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah. She was rather vocal about her… disagreement with our “rushed” wedding.”

Anger surged but quickly faded. “Well, you always want what you can’t have. If she’s jealous, that’s her problem, and there is nothing she can do about it now.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re taking this better than I thought you would.”

“Getting upset over someone suddenly coming face to face with the reality that they’ll never have you is silly. Now, if you’d said she made you have second thoughts, I’d be stabbing you both,” you chuckled.

“Definitely not. After Bucky told her to plant her ass and keep her opinions to herself, all I could focus on,” he tugged you closer, “was you.”

“Good.” You patted and smoothed down his tie. “I’d hate to ruin this suit with a sword.”

“To say nothing of me?” Steve asked.

“Rogers, if you’d had a single doubt, you would have deserved it,” you grinned brightly, turned on your heel, and sauntered away.

He burst out laughing and caught up quickly. “Guess it’s a good thing the only girl for me is you then, huh?”

His arm went around your waist, and he scooped you up against him, spun in a circle, and made you laugh. “Put me down, sjelevenn!”

“I don’t think so.” He held you tight to his chest and let your feet dangle.

“You keep this up, we’ll never make our own party,” you scolded but you wrapped your arms around his neck and held on just as tightly.

“I can’t help it. I’m so happy!” he laughed and lifted you up in the air. “We’re married!”

You squealed and held onto his biceps, his incredible strength a huge turn on. “Steven! Put me down, crazy man!”

He dropped you gently to your feet and held your face between his palms. “I love you so damn much. I don’t care if people think it was rushed, or other stupid reasons, you make me happy. This makes me happy. I can’t believe how happy!”

He sealed his mouth to yours, sank in, and wallowed. The kiss stole the bones from your legs and had you leaning into him when you knees gave out.

“Oi! Lovebirds! Shake a leg!” Scott’s voice broke the two of you apart.

“Lang! Don’t make me hurt you!” Steve bellowed.

“Don’t shoot the messenger, Cap! I pulled the short straw,” Scott turned and darted back the way he’d come.

Taking Steve’s hand, you tugged at it. “Come on, Cap. You gonna dance with me tonight?” you asked coyly.

“At least once,” he teased.

“Oh, Stevie. It’s going to be more than once,” you stated, and it was a promise you intended to keep.

***

Steve walked into the lounge and stopped dead. “Wow, and I thought the ceremony space was something.” He turned to look behind him, and then back into the hall. “We did come inside, didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” you snickered. “Don’t tell him I said so, but Loki’s a bit of a romantic at heart.”

“I would never have guessed,” Steve chuckled, taking in the woodland setting.

Trees grew along the walls, and vines lifted toward the roof as living centrepieces to cover the ceiling with dripping leaves and flowers. Round glass lanterns flickered with candles. More candles and greenery decorated the tables; a ‘U’ shaped one sat at the head of the room, all your friends - your family - waited for you there.

“Is it as magical as it seems?”

“Baby… it’s stunning.” He took your hand and stepped over the threshold causing applause to erupt and wild cheering to thunder through the room.

On a stage to one side, Tony tapped a mic. “Ladies and gentlemen, Captain and Mrs. Rogers! How about that first dance, Cap?”

You laughed and pulled Steve toward the open space with the wooden floor. “I had Bucky brush me up on a dance lesson.”

“Yeah?” Steve chuckled and spun you under his arm. “You gonna show me some moves for our first dance?”

“How about I just don’t embarrass you when you lead?” you laughed and placed your hand on his shoulder.

“And what song did you pick, baby?”

The first strains of the song poured from the speakers.

“You did hit all the high points for makin’ me sentimental,” he smirked and shook his head.

“Well, it's also fitting.”

As Etta James sang, you swayed together, happy and relaxed. Steve eventually coaxed you into a few dance steps, leading you around the floor with rather suave grace before returning you to the center to sway again.

Your arms snuck up around his neck, and he dropped his to wrap around your waist. You rested your head on his chest and felt his cheek settle against your hair. It was sweet and tender, exactly what you'd come to expect from your sjelevenn, and when the last strains of the music died, he dipped you low and kissed you deeply to the clear approval of your guests.

Laughing together, you made your way toward the head table where there was a continual stream of hugs and tears.

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Tony called from the stage, causing everyone to quiet down.

“What you want, Stark?” you shouted.

The smile on his face was wide, wicked, and full of amusement. “Damn, girl!” The group as a whole burst out laughing, but he waved his hand to get everyone to quiet down a second time. “I know your Queen now, but I never expected you to be such a diva as to require a wardrobe change!” he teased. “And to drag Cap along with you? Talk about bridezilla!”

“Hey!” you barked and held out your arms. “When you’ve got it, flaunt it!” You shot him a wink and took your seat, Steve laughing at your side.

Tony chuckled into the mic. “It appears I’ve been roped into emceeing this shindig,” he shot Pepper a look, “thanks, dear.”

“You love it!” Pepper shouted. “We all know you like hearing yourself talk!”

He didn’t bother to deny it. “Be that as it may, I have something to say.”

“When don’t you?” shouted Sam.

“Bite me, Wilson!” Tony barked, and everyone chuckled. “As I was saying before I was so rudely heckled, this last year I’ve watched two people stupidly in love dance around each other like idiots.”

You scoffed, and Steve scowled.

“But then they got the nudge they needed,” he waved his hand behind him, “thanks to an even bigger idiot.”

You frowned when everyone whistled and cheered loudly until Steve leaned over and murmured, “You remember the video of you kicking Garry’s ass that night we got together?”

“Oh, shit,” you sighed and covered your eyes.

“That’s our girl!” Tony laughed, the sound of Garry connecting with the window thudding loudly through the room. Again he waited for things to quiet down before speaking. When he did, his voice was softer, still full of amusement, but also heavy with affection. “I know you two have had tough times together. There’s been pain and tears along the way, but you’ve triumphed because of the deep love and faith you have in each other. I’ve never seen two people more suited to each other than the Captain and the Valkyrie. So I invite those gathered to raise a glass in toast-”

“Wait!” Thor bellowed, surging to his feet.

“It’s kind of too late, big guy. You can’t protest the wedding now, especially as you married them,” Tony huffed.

“Not that!” Thor huffed. “Heimdall, the cask.”

The big guardian stood and hefted an oak barrel to his shoulder.

“Thor, you didn’t,” you sighed, then groaned when he nodded.

“You can’t disregard this tradition, Sváfa. I won’t allow it,” Odin said, a smirk twitching his lips.

“Baby?” Steve asked as Thor tapped the cask.

“The brought the Bridal Ale,” you sighed. “It’s… potent.”

“How potent?” he asked, slight concern in his voice.

“You’ll see,” you muttered and got to your feet, muttering about asinine and archaic rituals.

“In our culture,” Thor was explaining, “The Bridal Ale must be served and shared together for the marriage to be considered valid. The lovely bride must assume the foremost of her duties as the wife in the ceremonial serving of drink.”

“You mean, the marriage is… not accepted if (Y/N) doesn’t do this?” Vision asked, sounding intrigued. “The entire process can be voided because she did not play the servant?”

“It is a compact,” murmured Odin. “A wife’s agreement to care for the household. It is only a formality, but she is Queen. We will have no one contesting the validity of their marriage because of one missed step. By drinking together, the bride and groom are made one in the eyes of the law and the gods, symbolically affirming their new kinship.”

“Darling,” Loki said as you passed, his hand out holding the kåsa.

“Thanks, Loki.” You plucked it from his palm and rounded the end of the table to where Thor stood waiting.

He and Heimdall hoisted the cask, and you shook your head at their theatrics. “Just gotta show off all those muscles, hm?”

“My queen. Would I be so prideful?” Heimdall asked while Thor only grinned.

“Yes, I believe you would,” you chuckled and reached for the tap. You filled the wooden bowl to half full and turned off the tap. “You better not have brought enough for a month, Thor.”

“Of course not,” he huffed. “You won’t be here for a month. I’ll have it sent to the Hall once we return to Asgard.”

You groaned softly, knowing he would expect you to indulge in the ale at every opportunity. “Thanks,” you muttered sarcastically and turned toward Steven.

Walking toward him, you held the bowl outstretched and presented it to him with a short bow. “Ale I bring thee, thou oak-of-battle. With strength blended and brightest honour, mixed with magic and mighty songs, with goodly spells, and wish-speeding runes. I bid thee drink, husband, so thy health and strength are assured.”

“Shakespeare in the park,” Tony coughed into the mic.

You ignored him, focusing on Steve who reached to take the bowl from you. “Make motion with the kåsa toward Thor, then offer a toast to Odin, drink and hand it back,” you whispered so he could complete the ritual.

“Do I have to make it sound so formal?” he asked, and you shook your head.

The bowl left your hands, and you stepped out of the way. Steve lifted it to Thor and offered a tilt of his head, before looking at Odin. “A toast to the All-father. May he bless this union between the daughter of his heart and a man who vows to love and protect her with everything he is.”

Odin appeared pleased and nodded when Steve lifted the bowl to his lips. He drank, and you tried not to laugh when he wheezed after swallowing.

“Damn!” he gasped and passed back the bowl.

You smirked but lifted the bowl. “To Freyja, wherever she may be. Bless the union you've been meddling in for years. Strengthen the ties that bind us.” The ale went down smooth as silk until the tail whipped you in the tonsils and the burn of alcohol scorched your lungs. “Woo, good stuff!”

“Can I continue now?” Tony asked.

“Have at it, Iron Man!” you called, waving him on as you returned to your seat beside Steve.

“Then I ask those gathered to lift their glass in a toast to the bride and groom!”

While the rest here-here’d and cheered, you did a quick search of the room with your senses before turning to Steve and lifting your chin for the kiss you knew was coming. He tasted like the ale, and you hummed appreciatively.

“Tasty, sjelevenn,” you purred against his lips so only he could hear.

“Not bad yourself,” he chuckled.

“Alright, folks! Let’s eat so we can get this party started!” Tony called out and motioned to the caterers.

You had no idea how he’d pulled it off, or what he’d paid for the short notice, but when the servers began coming around with giant platters of food for the tables, you shook your head. Only Tony could pull off something like this.

A young girl placed a basket of bread on the table and smiled nervously. “Congratulations,” she said, hands shaking a little.

“Thank you,” you smiled, and Steve nodded.

“I can’t believe… Captain America… married.” She shook her head and moved on before you could say anything.

“News is going to break like wildfire,” Steve murmured, laying his arm over the back of your chair as he bent closer. “There’s gonna be a lot of love, hate for a while I think.”

“Guess that’s what happens when you steal Cap away from the women of the world,” you snickered softly.

“That’s okay. Tony’s got pictures of you from when you threatened to beat Ross. Once those get out,” he snickered softly, “the men of the world are going to hate my guts.”

You laughed and reached for your glass of wine. “Maybe it’s a good thing we’ll be gone for a while. Give people time to get over themselves.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, glancing toward the other tables. “Probably a plan.”

You knew exactly where his eyes had drifted having searched her out yourself. Sharon sat with a few of the tactical response boys in the back. Apparently, she hadn’t left after all.

The hand coated in metal slowly clenched in your lap.

Things were about to get interesting.

Next Chapter

[go-our-own-ways]

Heisei Generations Final - Thoughts and Impressions

 Hello, I am back. 

I really don’t have a readership here to begin with...but that’s kind of why it feels nice to put my thoughts down here, I guess. 

On the whole, I enjoyed seeing the boys team up against the evil and defeat it...particularly seeing Hino Eiji/OOO and Ankh again (but of course, then, that made their parting even more heartbreaking...). 

As some context, I’ve only seen OOO and Build to completion at this point in time. The only other series I’ve watched anything of is W (still stuck on episode 20-something). I’ve seen several movies here and there because OOO was part of the casting, though, so I am somewhat familiar with Fourze and Gaim as well. 

Anyway. More under the cut! 

Overall, the movie was quite enjoyable to watch. It was a smidge confusing to understand since I was watching it after having finished Build...so I had to mentally adjust my brain, timeline-wise (lol). 

I guess the big thing that really impacted me by the end of the movie was that I was struck with a strong desire to watch Ex-Aid. I had been looking forward to watching it when it was announced, but opted to try and catch up to it instead...and never did (I was still slugging my way through W at the time). But here I am now, having skipped everything to watch Build. I think it’s alright to try watching Ex-Aid now, right? 

I have to admit that it was really, really nice seeing Gentaro again. Even though I’ve yet to watch Fourze, his appearances in various movies that I’ve been able to see left a pretty strong impression, so it was nice seeing him returned as a teacher. He was looking pretty snazzy in that suit, too! A shame that we couldn’t see more of the Fourze crew featured, but that’s alright; the focus was meant to be on Build and Ex-Aid after all. 

Someone else I really and truly enjoyed seeing again was, of course, Hino Eiji/OOO and Ankh. OOO was my first ever Kamen Rider series, and I loved it from start to finish. It left a huge impact on me, one that I doubt will ever leave. So, being able to see the main character and his sidekick again was...amazing. I’ve missed Eiji and Ankh a lot, not gonna lie, so it was great to be able to see them partnered up in action again. The moment when Ankh materializes again and Eiji is more or less choking back tears...I nearly cried, right then and there, man. Watanabe Shu’s acting is SO good as Hino Eiji, and I am forever thankful that he was cast for this role all those years ago. 

This is somewhat of an aside, but I loved seeing his performance throughout the entirety of OOO, and seeing him develop as an actor. His subsequent appearances in various Kamen Rider related media has also always been great to see, as he is always just as passionate and emotional in every new crumb of Eiji’s story as he was during the days of OOO, and it really warms my heart to see how dearly he cherishes Hino Eiji and OOO. 

Anyway, back to the movie itself LOL... I was also LIVING for that TaToBa henshin sequence, and also later the GataKiriBa and TaJaDor henshin sequences...the nostalgia that hit me seeing those was kind of unreal. By the end of it all, though, my heart broke into pieces yet again to see Ankh disappear back into the shattered core medal. Hearing Eiji say (more or less) “until next time” totally broke me, honestly. I still hope for a day when Eiji and Ankh can be reunited for good, but I’m pretty sure that’s never going to happen. I’ve been told that the novels that came out following OOO’s air on TV kind of give somewhat of an epilogue for the two of them, but as I cannot read Japanese for shit...I can only wait for something on screen. 

Okay, enough about OOO, lol. 

Something that was nice, but a smidge...awkward(?) was Banjou’s quest for meaning behind Kamen Riders and their drive to fight. I enjoyed seeing each Kamen Rider talking about why they keep fighting, and seeing everyone unified under basically the same banner (just phrased differently), but throwing Banjou’s questioning state into the mix felt a little bit forced, I think? I guess it just felt like there could have been more to his character development, but it kind of got diminished to “Banjou witnesses more Kamen Riders who seem to be like Sento and decides that their motivations and drives are admirable,” when he could have had a bit more internal dialogue, I guess is how I feel. (I’m really bad with reviewing/critiquing plot devices and whatnot, though, so this is purely just how I felt, not something meant to be taken with utmost seriousness and debated down to the littlest detail.)

I think the other thing that kinda bothered me was just the entire plotline of how they defeated Enigma and Bikaiser... Something about it all felt like the problem was resolved too easily, in a way. When Sento and Emu explained it to Bikaiser, it certainly made sense, but even so...seemed much less complicated than I guess I would have anticipated. But then, since they only have one movie to tell the entire story, I guess the evil plot can’t be too complicated, right (lol). 

Speaking of complicated... I’m still unsure as to how Sento and Banjou got back to their parallel world. Technically, the fight takes place on Emu’s world--a world without Skywall. So, how do Sento and Banjou return to their own world, the world with Skywall? I’ll admit, I’m really not the brightest when it comes to understanding plotlines and science fiction, so maybe I just missed it somewhere. But regardless, that was a lingering question I had at the end of the movie. 

Something else at the end of the movie that I did appreciate was Banjou’s hint at the Katsuragi/Sento plot point. I’m sure if I had watched this movie as Build was airing, it would have totally blew my mind...if I had been able to catch it and interpret it properly (lol). I also enjoyed seeing Grease’s cameo at the very end of the movie--it reminded me of Meteor’s cameo at the end of the OOO/Fourze movie. I take it that it’s kind of Kamen Rider tradition to cameo a companion rider at the end of the movie who has yet to appear in the currently airing series, but even so...it’s kind of nice seeing these sorts of traditions continue, in a way. 

All in all, the movie was fun to watch. It was nice to see old faces again, and to see them all working together as a team. It certainly also piqued my interest in Ex-Aid, and has me itching to watch Be The One right now. But, to watch Be the One, I’ll have to wait until it’s released onto DVD in January. Until then, I guess it’ll just be Zi-O, and perhaps finally also Ex-Aid! 

If you’ve made it this far, then thanks for reading! (: 

[ediblegardenspointloma]

Slugs and Poetry

If you garden in California you likely have slugs, unless you live in the desert. This year, slugs and snails have been scarce in my garden likely due to our lack of rainfall. Lizards, opossums and skunks also keep the populations at bay and we have all three.

In the redwood forests of Northern California you have banana slugs which are detritivores, or decomposers. Like other slugs, they process leaves, animal droppings, moss, and dead plant material, and then recycle them into soil humus. So they do good things for the forest and our gardens, (up to a point).

At age seven, I remember carrying a salt shaker to the concrete showers when I camped with my grandparents in the redwoods. I’d “salt” the banana slugs as they crawled up the walls, wash them away then take my shower.

If you’re serious about managing slug and snail populations, check the UC IPM (University of California Integrated Pest Management) website for guidance.

So, can you put poetry and slugs in the same sentence? Children’s author, David Greenberg does. I hate to admit that I have this book. My elementary-age sons found it hilarious and I saved it for my grandchildren.

If you’re up for it, watch David Greenberg “perform” Slugs with visuals on a big screen in a school assembly. Also included on the video are five other poetry books, including Bugs, Snakes and Crocs.

Greenberg performs his rollicking poems for kids. His poems are filled with alliteration, acrobatic meter patterns, snazzy rhymes. Greenberg also weaves into his presentation explanations of the various elements that activate his poetry. He discusses the craft of writing and the fierce perseverance necessary to succeed. He emphasizes the key importance of the writing process. (Excerpt from the YouTube intro).

[sordidpassionsandlockedemotions]

Context Not Included #7: Sentence Starters

“Look I’m an garbage can!” “Snazzy slug time.”  “Femur fo fum.”  “Inflatable snail costume time.”  “Could you stop squeaking.”  “I’m broke and have only 4 paper clips to my name.”  “As powerful as an cat in an dragon suit.” “You soft potato!”  “Stylish is not my fashion statement.”  “Look! I can do nothing.”  “Lemonade or Lemon Pee which would you prefer?”  “Just call me artificial green apple.” “How do I know if I’m allergic to it if I don’t try it?”  “Medicine these days with their side affects.” “I miss dying in an hole of an curable disease.” 

“Pardon me but do you know how to forget an awful social encounter.” “I’m ass social;can’t even socialize with donkeys and suck at it.”  “You’re the idiot who closed their eyes.” “So about that temporary tattoo you didn’t want-.” “Does licking an temporary tattoo still help transfer it cause water.”  “You’ve heard about daddy issues that’s it punchline and all.”  “Haunted by the ghost of gibberish today I see.”  “Cotton candy is not red unless if stained with blood.” “Stop being an cat bastard! I mean the cat not you.”  “What is your obsession with having to break the blinds.” 

[yesmicalsmithblog]

Throughout the long term, the overseers at the Southern Plains

Throughout the long term, the overseers at the Southern Plains Wildlife Rehabilitation Center (SPWRC) in Lubbock, Texas, have protected many types of stranded and harmed creatures, going from winged animals to reptiles possum in my roof. Notwithstanding, the bare infant opossum, dropped off at the middle in mid-October by a concerned inhabitant, was not normal for any creature they had experienced previously.

 SPWRC chief Gail Barnes says, "When I was bringing the case back in, an arm emerged from the crate, and I thought, 'Gracious my gosh, it's a bare feline. I opened it up, and it was an opossum possum in my house."'

   The four-month-old female opossum, undoubtedly deserted by its mom because of its condition, was underweight and experiencing hypothermia and must be immediately positioned into a hatchery. How To Remove Possums Under the caring consideration of the SPWRC staff, who took care of her heavenly tidbits like crickets, mealworms, curds, fruit purée, and yogurt, the baby bit by bit started to put on weight and recuperate.

 Fans have been weaving comfortable dress to keep the baby opossum warm during winter (Credit: SPWRC)

 A closer assessment uncovered that the opossum experienced alopecia — an uncommon condition where the body's resistant framework erroneously assaults hair follicles, catch possum bringing about going bald. While the illness, which likewise happens in people, is certifiably not a serious deal for a few, it is dangerous for the marsupials, who depend on their hide to keep warm.

 Understanding the creature would require some garments to endure the cold weather months, the middle contacted people in general through online media. To their joy, fans immediately reacted. "I've had so many calls, and individuals on our Facebook page are making it closets. get rid of possums They're weaving sweaters. Individuals with smooth felines are giving their felines' attire when they were little cats. So it will have a total closet," Barnes said.

 When sufficient, the opossum will turn into a SPWRC instructive represetative (Credit: SPWRC)

 With snazzy attire pouring in every day, the yet-to-be-named opossum will without a doubt be the recovery place's best dressed creature.getting rid of possums When she is completely recuperated, the fashionista will join SPWRC's instructive program, which shows kids various fowls and well evolved creatures. "She will end up being an instructive envoy," said Barnes. "When we're ready to return into schools, she will be joined into our instructive program. how to get rid of rats in the roof Possums are the lone marsupial in North America, and with her not having hide, you'll have the option to see her pocket in the front, which instructs individuals about marsupials."

 Opossums are the biggest marsupials from the request Didelphimorphia possum problems. Endemic toward the Western Hemisphere, the creatures are frequently viewed as bugs and considered answerable for everything — from pushing over trash bins to murdering chickens. In any case, specialists state the peaceful marsupials, who play dead when compromised, can be valuable for the nursery, eating snails, slugs, bugs, and in some cases even little rodents. how to get rid of rats under my house In spite of the fact that ordinarily alluded to as possums in North America, they are an alternate animal types from the Australian possums, which are all the more firmly identified with kangaroos rodent trap.

[fishfacethegrand]

@slugs-and-guts tagged me to answer 20 questions!!!! thank you so much!!! 

Rules are to answer all the questions and tag 20 blogs you’d like to get to know better.

nickname: carrie

gender: woman

💫 sign: libra (i don't believe in astrology i know this bc of homestuck bc i am Awful)

height: 5′2″ my napoleon complex knows no bounds

time: tim e timmy tim tam tom 

🎂: uhhh chocolate thanks :) 

favorite bands: LCD Soundsystem!!!!!!!!! is my favorite!!!!! i also like peter paul and mary, talking heads, nirvana, uhhh OINGO BOINGO, brazil 66, new order, one direction, the spice girls, the cure, vampire weekend, catfish and the bottlemen, fall out boy, elo, & rend collective

favorite solo artists: ST VINCENT, bjork, jack white, beck, courtney barnett, peter gabriel,.,,,,,yep

Last Movie I 👀: rumble in the bronx (i <3 jackie chan) 

last show i 👀: star trek: discovery

when did i create my blog: 4 fun

what do you mostly post: dirt sometimes

last thing i googled: raccoon doritos

do you have any other blogs: no

do you get asks: yeah but they’re always “why do you post so much dirt” listen buddy dirt is that thing of which we were made leave me in peace

what am i wearing: i just changed into my pajamas so red plaid disneyworld pants and a christmas mickey shirt i spilled coffee on once

why did you choose your URL: im a fish. with a face

blogs who follow you: cool blogs who know What’s Up 

favorite colors: so. i have a lot. of opinions about color. my favorite color is definitely dark teal, or cerenkov blue, but i don't decorate with those colors or wear them because 1. i live in the pacific northwest the outdoors is mostly green, grey, and purple so you need to balance interior spaces out with soft yellows and pinks so you don’t get depressed and 2. i only wear black because otherwise i get distracted by the colors of my clothing like i need things to be neutral colors or i can’t think 

average hours of sleep: 8. i don't do well on more or less

lucky number: e

dream trip: so many places!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ireland, the szechuan province, new zealand, basically anywhere i can surf, glasgow, marseille, uhhhhhhh yes a lot of places

instruments: i am a drummer! i love to hit things rhythmically!!! i can also play guitar i know 5 (5) chords and can play 11 (11) songs

how many blankets do i sleep with: one fleece blanket and one very snazzy faux  fur blanket

favorite food: my mom makes this risotto, it is. the Best. my dad also makes this stir fry that’s incredible. im also a fan of apricots. 

nationality: américaine 

tagging @alpineaquilegia, @pendragoth, @jeffreyrhyman, @bwitiye, @infraredpaladin, @midshipmank, @fantasiavii, @ijustwantedtobeclever @morbidi-tea @lesbones @leftoid-pseudo-insect @markourshapes

[franklyshipping]

Childish Class ~ A Markiplier Ego Fanfic

Another one with the emo boi and the bubblegum bitch 😈🍭 there are gonna be some sweet insults which lead up to a snazzy tickle fight, sfw and however ya wanna interpret it so LET’S GOOO!

The saying “opposites attract” really interests me. In the case of these two particular gentlemen, I would probably replace the word “attract” with collide, or something similar. A personality filled to the brim with elegant tact in the same room as one made entirely from energetic vivacity is bound to result in conflict, like now for instance.

‘You realise that no amount of eyeliner will hide that amount of ugly right?’

Darkiplier’s eyes were narrowed at Wilford Warfstache who was wearing a wide grin as he gently antagonised the well-to-do demon. Dark sneered gently as his steepled fingers tensed in his lap.

'I’m ugly? Says the man with a headache-inducing, neon slug on his face.’

Wilford bristled, his moustache twitching above his lips as Dark’s sneer grew into a grin. Despite the evident seriousness of their tones, all of their statements were in jest, in contradiction to popular belief. Where was the joy in life if you couldn’t poke and tease at those around you? Wilford was slouched into a couch whilst Dark was leant delicately in his armchair, well…it was his unofficially.

'At least I have control over my facial hair, instead of having to rely on our original for such things-’

'Oh you want to talk about relying on things?’

Wilford smirked as Dark’s eyes glittered deviously, they both loved verbally sparring with one another; you may be surprised to know that it relieved them both of their relative stresses, of which there were always many. Dark leant forward slowly.

'You mock being reliant and yet…I often see you being practically completely dependant on a certain Bim Trimmer for, ah now let’s see….’

Wilford shook his head with thickening brows as Dark tapped his chin in thought, his eyes lit up in exaggerated realisation.

'Oh yeah, everything!’

Wilford glared as Dark chuckled melodously, sitting up straight and leaning forward as he grinned with a light teasiness.

'Remind me again who it was that made us popular with Markiplier TV…oh wait, me!’

Dark raised an eyebrow with a smug snicker.

'And who did the fans give more attention to?’

Dark gestured carefully to himself as Wilford bit the inside of his cheek, determined not to fall into a laughing fit as Dark’s eyes shone with his own hidden amusement.

'At least I’m not weak.’

Dark furrowed his brows, lips spreading into a gentle smile as he tilted his head confusedly at Wilford’s ambiguity.

'Oh? To what weakness are you referring?’

Wilford mirrored Dark’s expression, his mind buzzed excitedly as he spoke, with sharp smugness lacing his voice.

'I’m referring to how your composure crumbles when someone’s hand brushes your side…or any other particularly sensitive area.’

Dark’s face fell as Wilford chuckled, a deeply rooted mischievousness blossomed in Wilford’s demeanour as Dark sat rigidly.

'That is…not true.’

Wilford laughed loudly as Dark gritted his teeth together with a slightly nervous expression.

'Oh really? Perhaps I should remind you then!’

'Wha-NO!’

Dark very nearly yelled as Wilford stood and lunged towards him, he jumped from his chair but before he could take a single step a pair of arms wrapped round his torso. The normally neat and collected man struggled in Wilford’s strong hold as he whispered in his ear.

'I’m gonna enjoy this…’

Dark pressed his lips together tightly as Wilford started to scratch over his lower tummy, he shook his body in an attempt to get free but it was no use. Wilford leant into him with a taunting grin.

'Don’t hold out on me Darky…you know I’ll get that laugh sooner or later.’

Dark’s cheeks were beginning to flush at Wilford’s skillful teasing, and as one of Wilford’s hands reached under his shirt to get at his bare belly…his resolve broke.

'Wihihihilfohohord!’

Dark’s stream of chuckling was deep and continuous as Wilford smirked triumphantly.

'There we go! Tickle tickle Darkipoo!’

Dark cackled breathlessly as both of Wilford’s hands squeezed his bare sides, he writhed in Wilford’s grip with a desperate grin.

'Fuhuhuhuhuck ohohoff!’

Wilford chuckled mischievously as he nuzzled into Dark’s neck, making sure his moustache brushed behind his ear delicately.

'Not so reserved and stoic now are we?’

Dark scrunched his neck in earnest as a small growl jumped from his throat, lips spread widely as his laughter rose up an octave.

'Stahahahap ihihihit! Nohohohohow!!!’

Dark tried to sound insistent, but the incessently joyful sounds he elicited ended up hindering him slightly.

'Oh hell no, I’m just getting started!’

Wilford smirked as he lifted Dark’s shirt up more so he could dig into his prominent ribcage, Dark screeched as his knees buckled thus sending the pair of them to the floor.

'NAHAHAHAHA WIHIHILFOHOHORD!’

Wilford yelped in surprise as he and Dark fell to the floor. He’d tried to keep his fingers animated, but as they’d fallen Dark had managed to twist away from him. Said man had caught his breath in record time as he stared at Wilford, his lips morphing into a determined sneer as he pounced. He seized Wilford’s wrists, making his eyes widen as he tried tugging harshly.

'You’d better let me go or I swear I-’

'You’ll what?’

Wilford gulped as Dark cut him off, grinning excitedly at Wilford’s nervousness.

'I don’t think you’re in any position to threaten me. On that note…’

Dark suddenly yanked Wilford towards him, with the way they’d landed Dark was sat up on the floor which allowed him to pull Wilford so that his back was in his lap. Perfect. Dark wasted no time in transferring Wilford’s wrists to one hand as the other curled round to tickle his belly ruthlessly.

'Dahahahark wahahahahait!!!’

Wilford squirmed and giggled heavily as Dark gazed down at him, a teasing smirk in place as he cooed.

'Awww what’s wrong? Can’t take what you dish out?’

Wilford flushed and his giggles made his chest shake as he tried to curl into a ball.

'Shuhuhuhuhut uhuhuhuhup!’

Dark snickered as Wilford became increasingly more flustered, he decided to pull Wilford’s arms above his head which also forced him to look at Dark’s face. Which totally helped.

'What a blush, I never thought I had this effect on you Wilford…I’m flattered.’

'FUHUCK YOU!’

Dark laughed when Wilford gave him an attempted glare through his embarrassed state. Dark hummed to himself as he wrapped an arm round Wilford’s forearms and held the other up in the air. Wilford eyes followed it like a hawk as it slowly began to descend, and his struggles were renewed as the teasing fingers inched towards his underarm.

'Dark don’t I swear to-FAHAHAHACK!’

Dark scribbled into one of Wilford’s hollows making him wail and throw his head back harshly.

'Last time I checked there wasn’t a deity called 'faaack’, but I can always ask Google later.’

Dark commented nochalantly as tears began streaming down Wilford’s cheeks.

'YOHOHOHOU AHAHASSHOHOLE!’

Wilford yelled as he gave one last tug to his arms, and to Wilford’s utter joy and relief they came free. Dark had been too pre-occupied with his smug teasing to maintain a decent grip, Wilford grinned as Dark’s eyes widened worriedly.

'You’re in for it now bitch!’

Dark tried to scramble away with a premature grin on his face, but Wilford snarled and grasped his legs tightly. The moustached man shifted so his torso was lying on Dark’s thighs as he faced his knees with a sharp grin.

'You should know better Dark…you really should….’

Dark’s breath shattered down his throat as he realised where Wilford was…but surely he wouldn’t? He wouldn’t go for his worst spot…right?

'You wouldn’t dare….’

Wilford turned to him, his entire form was the embodiment of devious defiance as they locked eyes. Warning and mischief flying through the air like bullets as Dark repressed a gentle shiver at his wide smirk.

'Of all the people in the world…you know I would.’

With that, Wilford’s fingertips fluttered behind Dark’s knees. If you were an outsider you would undoubtedly think that a highly grotesque murder was being commited, due to the sounds that left Dark’s mouth.

'NAHAHAHAHA PLEHEHEHEHEHE!!!’

He screamed incoherently and hit out at Wilford’s legs in desperation, he felt as if his entire body was being put into shock. Wilford meanwhile, was having the time of his life.

'I can’t even imagine how bad this must be….how bad it must tickle.’

Wilford’s voice swooped and settled in Dark’s ears, bringing a wine coloured flush to his regular grayscale complexion.

'IHIHIHIHI CAHAHAHAHAHA!!!’

Wilford only laughed as he scratched and squeezed his kneecaps, relishing in Dark’s vivacious undoing. However, after a few moments Wilford jumped. And he paled. For something, had fluttered against the sole of his foot. He paused his work as he turned…oh how he wished he hadn’t.

'Big mistake Wilford…’

Dark, in a delirious daze of glee, suddenly latched onto Wilford’s ankles whilst pulling his own legs free from under him. The owner of which was protesting earnestly though anticipatory giggles as Dark grinned breathlessly. He brought Wilford’s socked feet so that they were sole-up in his lap and crossed his legs so Wilford’s shins were encased. Wilford lay on his front, encaptulated with fearful anticipation.

'Nononono Dark don’t do thihihis!’

Wilford clamped on his bottom lip as Dark stroked his soles lightly, despite his dishevelled state he still radiated control and sophistication; especially in his position of control.

'But I simply must….such ticklish feet can’t be neglected now can they?’

Dark snickered as he maintained his torturous lightness, knowing how it was driving Wilford crazy. Delicacy tended to do that. Dark knew that keeping Wilford giggling was a far better approach than driving him to hysteria, because it allowed his embarrassment to peak beautifully.

'Shuhuhut thehe hehehell uhuhup dahahammihit!’

Wilford squeaked as shapes and patterns were traced over his soles, his face was screwed as he was forced to listen to his own snorts and embarrassing noises; this truly was torture.

'Awww, is Wilfy getting all blushy from the teases?’

Dark peeled Wilford’s sock’s off and scratched gently at his arches, Wilford shook as bubbly laughter streamed from him; his embarrassment was indeed peaking.

'Plehehehease! Ihihihit’s tohoho muhuhuhuch!!!’

Wilford wailed softly as Dark fluttered under his toes, despite them trying to scrunch Dark made sure to hold them back; he wanted to get to every millimetre of sensitive skin….and he did.

'Coochie coo Wilfy….are you going to think twice about trying to best me in the future?’

Wilford squealed as Dark scribbled over the balls of his feet, but his cheeky nature meant his eyes glittered as he spoke.

'Nohohohoho prohohomihihises!!!’

Dark hummed momentarily. That wasn’t the answer he’d been looking for, but it was definately the one that he realised he wanted.

'I guess I can live with that.’

Wilford gasped as Dark withdrew his fingers and released his legs, he pulled them away and sent Dark a glare which made him chuckle deeply. Both of their heads of hair were mussed and their complexions were brushed with light pink, they both breathed deeply and relished in the air that they both needed. Wilford’s eyes twinkled as he spoke.

'You know I hate you right?’

Dark grinned widely at Wilford’s words, since the speaker bore a wide smile too.

'Yes. And I hate you too-’

'Oh Dark!’

Dark narrowed his eyes as Wilford fluttered his lashes flirtatiously, holding a hand against his chest. Dark smirked and gave him a heavy shove, Wilford only fell into a laughing fit as he flopped on the floor. They both laughed. Hearing two people laugh together for the same reason is honestly such a beautiful thing, only Wilford and Dark heard their collective mirth though. On this occasion however…I’d say that was most appropriate.

Ohhh i really need to write something romantic between these two lil doves 😄 Anyway, hope ya like it + tell me if ya did, luv yous xx