#snickers pie the one-eyed guy

[duskythesomething]

glad to see everyone's loving my snoodle pics! we had a vet checkup for them both this past weekend- clean bill of health!

the vet said that their care is great AND that they're both confirmed boys, which is what we were hoping for! ♂️🐍

for those who have not met these two before, this is Cheesecake Banana Snake and Snickers Pie the One-eyed Guy!

🧀🍰🍌🐍 - 🥜🍫🥧🐍

[wexhappyxfew]

when all else fails

(a/n): here it is! a Silver Bullets ensemble piece featuring all of the lovely ladies that man the B-17 Silver Bullets that is mentioned so very often. let's just say....adjusting to a new pilot after losing one that did so much in terms of care - is hard. but having each other, makes it a bit easier. (featuring also: frank, the orange cat that meatball chases when warranted).

"How many times has he mentioned that the God-forsaken cat loves him?" muttered Paulina as she came and settled herself into the chair besides Carrie, shaking her head and lacing her fingers together like an elaborate pie crust.

"Dougie'll probably keep saying it," Carrie offered and then nodded at Marianne, who was sat in her own chair, working her way through another beer, "Frank doing okay?" Marianne shrugged and glanced at the orange cat, curled up at her feet, licking at his paw, eyes half-opened as he lounged on the wooden ground of the flying club.

"Looks like he's as fine as he'll ever be," Marianne said, "Dougie snuck him a thing of cheese earlier, so….let's just say, he's content." Carrie snickered as Paulina glanced down at the little ball of orange.

"Remind me how you're going to get him home again? Strapping him up in Silver Bullets, his own mask to fit his whiskers, a parachute made out of napkins?" Paulina offered and Marianne chuckled.

"I'll just ask Benny, he got Meatball over here, I'll be damned if I can strangle Frank into a harness, but it'll happen," Marianne said, "plus, he's a big sky enthusiastic." Carrie raised a brow. Paulina blinked.

"Come again?" murmured Carrie.

"He climbs up the trees, ya know? Entertains the kids. Jumps outta them, too. Crazy son-of-a-gun. There's a reason he's got nine lives, well…probably five now." Marianne said with a sigh, like an exasperated mother, "I blame Meatball."

"Why are we blaming Meatball?" a new voice said, entering the picture, the bright-eyed silhouette of Margie Harlowe coming up to them, Kennedy Farley in tow - like sunshine and gray skies clashing together in the middle of summer, but somehow making it work.

"He chases Frank around," muttered Marianne, "therefore, Frank has it out for him. Don't think Benny would agree but." Kennedy glanced downwards.

"A real wild-eyed killer there, Mar." Kennedy murmured and Marianne grumbled.

"He's just a softie on the outside that's all," Marianne said and Carrie chuckled.

"I can promise you, if I wave a thing of cheese in front of him, he's done for, there's no fighting with Meatball," Carrie said, patting Marianne on the shoulder and she all but sighed.

"It's alright, Frank, I'd be the same way," Paulina called down to Frank - who sat wildly unbothered, "swear to ya, you could wake me from a dead-sleep."

"Any of you meet the new pilot?" Margie asked, sweeping her eyes through the current group of four staring her in the face, "Alright, what's with the blank looks?"

"Don't think we're the ones you should be asking," Carrie said quietly, "you think Francis is gonna lose it? We know what happened when Harding tried with the other pilot…..Francis couldn't stand her."

"That's because that Captain Atchinson was nothing but a stuck up twit with a stick up her ass," Kennedy offered, "told me three times about how to load my goddamn .50 cal - last time I ever went up with her telling me what to do. I know how to load a gun, sweetheart."

"Bunch of bullshit, too," Paulina said, "you know she told me I had to at least eat proper in front of the guys. Does she not realize most of these guys saw me on my death bed when we arrived in Greenland? Puking my guts up as I pathetically begged for Major Cleven to take me to the grave. That was the least of my worries-"

"Well, our new pilot is not Captain Atchinson - she's actually really sweet, level-headed, can hold her own." Margie said butting in, "You all oughta introduce yourselves, stop hiding."

"Gotta name?" Marianne asked, a bit more hopeful than the others.

"Annie Bradshaw." Margie said, a hint of a smile on her lips, "She was in Fort Des Moines, but she's been a pilot for a bit. I got Benny to spill about her to me a bit. Supposedly she was going to fly AT-6s before coming here, so I guess we can consider ourselves lucky." Someone coughed.

"We'd be lucky if Birdie was still here." Carrie murmured quietly and a collective silence came over the group.

"Alright, what's with the sour faces?" Bessie, beloved navigator of Silver Bullets, said coming with a fresh drink - beer in the bottle - and Vivian and Judy in tow, the three new sets of eyes wandering about the current display of grief that seemed to wash in like waves.

"Don't tell me," Vivian said, arm linked through Judy's, eyes narrowed, "Major Egan made another one of his bad jokes and Pauli ain't having it."

"It ain't that, Viv, but feels close enough to be just like it," Paulina mumbled from her seat and shrugged, before leaning her head on her hand, "meet the new pilot?" The group glanced towards the trio and found somewhat blank looks on all their faces as well.

"Saw her." Judy offered, a bit more enthusiastically than the others, "She's a pretty thing. Didn't say anything though. It was from afar; I was trying to keep Dougie company, poor guy got turned down. I offered him an emotionally-filled pat on the shoulder."

"You really are the sweetest out of us all," Margie said with a smile towards Judy - who grinned like she always did - one that still looked youthful and full of a life now past.

"Was he trying for Helen again?" Carrie asked, her voice a bit more stiff than it had been previously and Bessie shrugged.

"A pretty poor attempt, I'll give him that," Bessie offered, in that comforting voice of hers that never seemed to let anyone down even in the worst of times.

"That or he's going on about the damn cat." Paulina groaned, receiving a shove from Marianne, "Sorry, sorry-" she glanced down at Frank, "sorry Frank, we love ya, I promise."

"So," Bessie started, glancing around the group, "anyone else willing to make the first move or should I bite the bullet. Again, might I add."

"I'll come with you," Judy offered, "she seems real sweet, I tell ya." Bessie smiled and glanced towards the group. Silence.

"Listen, listen, I'll come," Kennedy offered, "nothing a little New England charm can't do."

"New England charm?" Paulina crooned.

"Very experimentalist of you." Carrie said with a smirk and Kennedy rolled her eyes.

"I don't see anyone else jumping to their feet," Kennedy said, placing her hands on her hips with a raised brow, "imagine that was you! Comin' in here and your first introduction is Major Egan - Jesus Christ he probably scared her off-"

"I don't have to imagine," Paulina said with a sour look on her face, "if Birdie were here, we wouldn't be having to start this all over again."

"Yeah, well, Birdie ain't here, Pauli." Kennedy said. It was tough love. A tough realization that was a hard pill to swallow and something no one wanted to have to face.

None of them had really been flying since - Francis had done a practice run with Benny, but had come puking out of the plane and that had been that. Sometimes on walks around base, there was a presence about Silver Bullets that was almost sickening. It was like trying to face a fear none of them wanted to actually have to face. Getting in Silver Bullets without Birdie there. Because how much could you trust the next person to look out for the group and do much, if not the same or more?

"Well, what a surprise," Francis Montez said, swaggering over, a tired look on her face, an even more exasperated smile growing on her lips, "go on, what's happened now. Who are we bettin' on now?"

"No one, Lieutenant, except maybe the new pilot," Judy offered with a shake of her head, "you meet her yet?" Francis' face fell flat and she glanced around the group and shrugged.

"Ran into her, was on the move, didn't have much to say yet," Francis said, her words awkward and spaced uncomfortably. A few of the women exchanged side-eye glances or random coughs or sniffs.

Everyone knew Francis was struggling the most with it all - losing Birdie like they did. Just like that. Having her stuff back at the base, having to send it home to her folks, having to write out the letters and mail it out. Having to even think or say anything regarding it all. No one wanted to express any emotion towards a new pilot, or try to replace Birdie in anyway - it's why this whole new pilot shindig hurt just a little more than they all thought. They knew Birdie would never be replaced, but sometimes it felt like it was replacing her. Francis had been the one to see it and live it. She felt it the most it seemed - and showed it.

"You doing okay, Lieutenant?" Marianne asked quietly, a few worried glances going towards Silver Bullets' copilot - the drawn in expression on her face that fought with whatever inner emotions she was feeling more and more, the dark circles under her eyes, her gaunt cheeks. Francis Montez seemed to take on the weight of the world and let it stay on her shoulders for as long as she could handle; she hadn't fallen down yet.

"Fine," Francis said and then settled onto the open chair beside Carrie, "so, who's gonna make the first move? Or well, let me rephrase, who should be the one to make the first move?"

"I vote Margie." Paulina said, with a raised hand as she sipped her beer, "Margie or Vivian, someone who walks around like it's always sunny outside or something, ya know?"

"Flattering, Pauli, truly," Margie said, and Vivian offered a graceful smile with a nod.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Pauli, you really do butter me up," Vivian said, "but I think this is a Margie Harlowe situation at its finest." Margie grinned and crossed her arms and glanced around.

"You guys shouldn't have."

"Take the compliment, Margie," murmured Carrie. Margie smirked.

"She here?" Margie asked out loud.

"Supposedly Brady invited her."

"She blonde?"

"Blonde, more dirty-blonde, but nice dirty-blonde, shorter-side."

"That her?"

Everyone followed Carrie's finger and line of sight and found the new pilot, Lieutenant Annie Bradshaw, moving towards the bar, leaning up against it smoothly and ordering a drink and then looking around, her movements fluid, calculated and purposeful, her presence not entirely overwhelming and the look on her face a mix - calm, cool, collected about herself. Someone you probably didn't want to mess with unless you had it coming.

"Yep, that's her," Judy said, "Margie you should go for it." Margie turned to the group, took a gracious bow, cracked her knuckles like some professional sports star and then turned away.

"Watch and learn, ladies," Margie said and then plowed forward.

"There she goes," Kennedy said with a chuckle, "our Margie, whodda thought huh?"

"Whodda thought what?"

"Volunteering herself like that," Kennedy offered, "going into the line of fire. She's better than me."

"What the hell do you mean by that?" Francis said, "Whatcha trying to say?" Kennedy glanced over her shoulder just as Margie stuck out her hand to shake and then glanced back at the group of women and Frank, who now was cuddled in Judy's arms.

"Harding's been trying to get a pilot in for days after Atchinson was booted. Supposedly, he didn't let anyone even meet us until he was sure, especially after what happened before." Kennedy said, "Egan let me in on it, Mr. Chatterbox. Anyway, it seems legit. The entire thing. And she made it through all their levels of inspection, interviews, questioning, all of it. She's good." The group seemed to gravitate to looking towards Francis, attempting to judge her facial expressions before coming to a consensus.

"Francis?" Bessie offered. Francis was quiet for a moment, then leaned forward and took the beer bottle in her hand.

"I won't say anything until she's up there flying Silver Bullets."

[holylulusworld]

In demon veritas

Summary: Getting kidnapped by demons sucks. Listening to the ugly truth even more.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Character: Sam Winchester, unnamed demon

Warnings: angst, threats, hostage situation, unrequited feelings?, fluff, violence

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

“What a nice day, isn’t it? When I cleaned my knives this morning, I didn’t think Dean Winchester’s bitch will end up being my guest,” you spit in the demon’s face. Well, the face that black-eyed bastard stole.

“Fuck you,” while the demon circles you like prey, you try to untie the knot holding your hands behind your back. Dean taught you how to do it, but it feels like you forgot about everything you ever knew.

“Aw, what a pity I’m stuck in that bitch’s body,” the demon leans closer to lick over your cheek. “Well, I can still get a new meat suit and keep you up on that promise.”

“I’m telling you this only once,” you hold the demon’s gaze, “let me go and I won’t kill you. If not, you will end like all the other black-eyed bastards before you. Dead and gone.”

“Says the scared little girl restrained to a chair,” she snickers now. “I bet you already peed your pants. You are nothing but the Winchesters' little sidekick. Not even strong enough to kill the big bad monsters on your own.”

“Again. Fuck you.”

She slaps your face. Hard.

Blood runs down your face, dripping onto your favorite flannel, soaking the fabric. It’s the one you got for your birthday from Dean. You cherish it. The bitch will pay for ruining it.

“Is that all you’ve got?” you try to buy some time. Dean and Sam must already know that you got kidnapped. Your friends will trace your phone and bring you home. It’s only a matter of time.

“Patience, sweetheart,” you grimace. She has no right to use the pet name. Not her. Only Dean is allowed to call you that. “I guess that’s one of the reasons Dean is so annoyed with you.”

“Fuck. You.”

“I bet he never fucked you,” she whispers in your ear. “Hmm…yeah. I remember the night you told that busty blonde he’s your boyfriend. Boy was he mad,” she chuckles darkly. “He wanted to kick you out of the car on his way back to the motel.”

“You’re lying,” you huff, but wonder how the demon can know about that night. Did Dean get mad? You only wanted him to come back to the motel with you. It was a stupid joke…

“Sweet cheeks, I’m not the one pretending that I’m not in love with that Winchester,” she grins as you drop your gaze. “Aw, you’re so bad at hiding your feelings. And Dean is bad at hiding that he’s fucking annoyed with you.”

You ponder. Is it true?

“I don’t believe a single word leaving your lips, demon bitch.”

“I’m actually a guy,” she laughs loudly. “Little miss sunshine here was only the next best meat suit I found. I had to get you. I’m not picky. A body is just a body,” the demon shrugs.

“Do you think I care?” you spat. “I’ll kill you no matter what. In the end, you’re a demon bitch. Guy, girl, guinea pig. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Back to Dean,” closing your eyes you take a deep breath. Demons lie, you know that. “Did you know he hates that you are always around? You wash his clothes, make him food, check on him if he drinks too much.”

“It’s called friendship,” you bite back. The demon can’t know that you start to ask yourself if Dean is annoyed with you.

“It’s called clingy, sweetheart,” the demon gets a knife out and presses the tip into your cheek, drawing blood. “He hates your pie too. Dean thinks it tastes like old socks.”

“He loves my pie.”

You don’t even know why you fight with the demon over pie and your friendship with Dean. What does a monster know about your bond with the elder brother?

“He hates it, just like—”

“Like what?” you cock your head to watch the demon choke. The demon starts coughing out black smoke as the door flings open. “Dude, what’s wrong? Did you smoke the wrong stuff?”

“Sweetheart? Y/N,” while Sam plays an exorcism on his phone, Dean storms into the room, pushing the whining demon out of his way. “Fuck, you worried us there for a minute.”

“Dean, hey,” you awkwardly watch Dean cut the ropes holding you to the chair open. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to worry you or Sam.”

“We are friends and hunting partners,” Sam says while checking on the unconscious girl. “I think she’ll make it. We came just in time.”

“Get her out of here,” Dean says while looking you all over. He’s worriedly checking on your swollen face. “That bitch got you good.”

“Yeah…I guess. Sorry for being so…” you bite your tongue. Can you tell Dean about all the things the demon said? “You know…clingy sometimes and stuff.”

“Where is this coming from?” Dean doesn’t hesitate. He picks you up in bridal style, grumbling under his breath as you don’t answer. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”

“The demon knew and said a few things.”

“Demons lie.”

“You’ll tell me if I’m clingy, right?” you murmur. “If you don’t like my pie, it’s fine. I can buy a pie from now on.” You close your eyes and take a deep breath, waiting for Dean to tell you he hates that you are clingy.

“Y/N,” he stops walking to look at you. “Sweetheart look at me.”

You blink one eye open. “No cheating. Open your eyes. Both,” he hums when you open your other eye too. “Good. Y/N, I love your pie and that you are attentive. You wash my clothes too.” He grins now. “I hate doing laundry.”

“I know.”

“And I hate the pie Sammy buys. I like yours much better.”

“Okay.”

He sighs as you still don’t believe him. His eyes drop to your chest, and he inhales sharply seeing the blood on your flannel.

“You need a new flannel,” Dean concludes. “I’ll get you a new one.”

“I liked this one.”

“I know…”

“Uh-what’s this?” After Dean patched you up, and looked you all over again, he brought you a flannel. Now you are sitting on his bed, covered by two blankets, and stare at the flannel he put on his bed. “That’s a little too big.”

“It’s one of mine,” he says. “Only if you want to wear it.”

You nod eagerly.

“I want to see my favorite girl in my flannel,” he casually says. “How about you put it on, and I'll get us a snack?”

“I can go back to my room. I’m fine, Dean.”

“I’m not sure about that,” he points a finger at your swollen cheek. “I’ll keep an eye on you tonight. Maybe tomorrow too. You can never know.”

He smirks.

“If you say so, Doctor Winchester.”

“You are in capable hands, miss,” Dean pecks your forehead. “I’ll be right back to take good care of you…”

Tags in reblog.

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Just Another Night at Sparky's

(Disclaimer: Ness/WaiterPat and Jack/Cabbie!Cory are not my creations. I gave Jack his name because he wasn't given one in the movie. Now, one of the characters you'll be seeing here technically belongs to me, but I don't really consider him a full fanego.)

(I was already planning to write for Ness and Jack, but after I learned how Mark was originally intended to play the role of that first security guard who died, I decided to adopt that abandoned character. Go here for headcanons and a more thorough explanation.)

(Certain plot-points in this story were inspired by @flawlessstriker and @insane4fandoms! These two are very talented artists, and I'm not sure I would've thought of such clever/funny easter eggs if I hadn't seen some of their own work, so please go check out their blogs and show them some love!)

(Trigger Warnings: food and drink, eating/drinking, implied trauma, mentions of past violence, mentions of blood, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.) 

In Ness’ personal experience, the people who dined at Sparky’s could be divided into three sections on a metaphorical pie chart. 

Twenty-four percent of customers were. . .just a little off. Not like that was necessarily a bad thing, mind you. Working in the restaurant business meant having to interact with lots of people each and every day. At some point, you’d learn to pick up on certain things that were odd in the way you couldn’t quite put your finger on (or, perhaps you just knew deep down that you didn’t want to). 

Ness strolled out of the kitchen and into the seating area, expertly balancing a tray on one hand. He approached a couple of bespectacled young women in one corner of the diner. 

Their visits to Sparky’s were a bit sporadic, but they never failed to claim that one booth in the corner that no-one else ever sat at no matter how crowded the joint was. The backpacks they always hauled along were positioned further up the booth’s seat cushions, half-open and nearly overspilling with various books. 

They always used indoor voices, but he could still pick up bits and pieces of their conversation whenever he was near. 

Tonight was no different:

“—he’ll be hungrier than usual,” murmured the one on the left, who boasted short, wavy hair that had been dyed a dark shade of violet. It complimented her shirt, which read ADOPT A FAMILIAR at the top. Pictures of creepy-looking critters were displayed beneath the message, orange-eyed and outlined by blue against the black fabric. “And he’ll need a live one this time.”

“Ooh,” replied the one on the right, who sported a yellow shirt with the screen-printed likeness of some obscure, spikey-haired cartoon character near the collar. A blonde ponytail spilled out from the back of her ball cap. “Who’s it gonna be? The lady whose eyes were found in that jar last month?”

“Nah, she’ll be in some psych ward. Too far-gone to keep on the playing board, y’know?” A sly grin etched its way across Urban Fantasy Nerd’s features. “I was actually wondering if you’d like to choose. Your guy is making the delivery, after all.”

“Ah, that’s right!” Cartoon-Fan snickered in a way that was just a teensy bit unhinged. “I can already see him slipping on some of the blood."

“Third time’s a charm?” Ness asked as he halted, carefully setting this duo’s Usual on the table. 

(Two milkshakes: one chocolate, the other strawberry. Yeah, it was kind of basic, but he wasn’t too much of a judgemental guy. Besides, Sparky’s shakes were a much safer option than the lilac-colored drinks that chicken shack around the corner had started selling. And Ness didn’t just carry that opinion because of his employment. During one of his typical night-walks, he’d passed an alley just in time to see said purple beverage oozing through said chicken shack’s windows. The strong, sugary smell wafting off it had reminded him of prion disease.)

The girls both paused. Though they smiled up at him and offered quiet “Thank-yous,” as they moved their respective, sticker-covered laptops out of the way, visible confusion mixed itself into their gratitude. 

“For the university’s creative writing contest, I mean,” Ness elaborated. “There were articles in the paper about the last two, and I saw your pictures in the list of winners. Congratulations, by the way.”

“. . .Oh,” Urban Fantasy Nerd answered, exchanging careful glances with her friend. “Yeah. Writing. Let’s go with that.”

“If anyone asks, we were also writing here two months ago,” Cartoon-Fan added with a conspiratory wink. “On Friday, between five-thirty and nine o’clock.” 

Ness chuckled, raising one hand to pull an invisible zipper over his lips. “You’ve got it. Enjoy.”

As he retraced his steps to organize some stuff behind the coffee counter, a little voice in the back of his theater-trained head wondered if the girls’ tones had been joking enough. Unlike many times before, he pushed that voice aside.

On one hand, missing person cases did always seem to pop up on the news channels a few days after the two students stopped by to enjoy milkshakes while typing away and occasionally turning the screens of their laptops toward one another. 

On the other hand. . .well, those cases were always located states and states away, typically near more seaside areas. None of them had been anywhere close to Utah. (Not yet, at least.)

Besides, even if those girls were somehow connected to more sinister things than their coursework, they were still very nice. Good tippers, too. Nowhere near the worst patrons Ness had served in his time.

The strange customers almost always seemed to come in pairs.

Like the duo of twenty-somethings from last week. One sported ginger hair and a She/They button pinned to their  jacket. The soot-stains on said jacket had been very obvious, as were the burn scars on their palms, but she’d still been a delight to make smalltalk with.

The other, a pale young man, had been much more quiet, but still friendly. He’d kept peering through the window at (what was presumably) his or his friend’s car, shakily fidgeting with the headphones around his neck, so it’d taken some time for Ness to realize that his eyes were just as reflective as mirrors.

(For the duration of their stay, the jukebox over by the counter had spat out songs that most certainly weren’t on its index cards. Fine, that might’ve caught Ness a bit off-guard at first, but he still knew to appreciate variety.)

Or the two men who’d come in a few months ago, wearing battered navy-blue bomber jackets and thousand-yard-stares. The one with a dyed-red fauxhawk had screamed and practically leapt out of his skin when Ness came over with menus and his usual greeting, but he’d apologized soon enough. After giving Ness a thorough look-over, that is.

His companion, a similarly dark-eyed man with a larynx that could only be found on seasoned musicians, had muttered, “Don’t mind him. We’ve just. . .had a bit of a rough trip.” His voice hadn’t been unkind, but he’d kept glancing at Ness whenever he thought he wasn’t looking. 

Well, perhaps that particular pair had broken the trend a bit. Because a few hours after they’d paid for their food and left, a lone traveler had come in.

His bloodshot eyes—which Ness could’ve sworn were orange instead of brown—had never stopped bulging, never stopped darting this way and that above his rictus of a smile. When he wasn’t speaking, he’d hum or murmur things with a shakiness that was typically found in rabid dogs.

He’d asked for way more coffee refills than could ever be considered healthy, as well as if Ness had seen anyone fitting the descriptions of Red-Haired-Screamer and Wary-Possible-Musician. Ness, following his instincts, had said no, to which the loner started simply shaking his head and grinning with a mouthful of teeth that looked a smidge too sharp.

Or the scruffy man who'd started coming in for breakfast every other week with his young sister in tow. He was living proof that you could recognize someone without officially knowing them. After all, it was pretty damn easy for Ness to remember almost making eye-contact with him, barely moving out of reach of his flashlight’s beam in time, and then having the seconds feel like hours as he watched him shake his head and mutter to himself about seeing things. 

It wasn’t like that’d been Ness’ first little midnight rendezvous around Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzaria. Just like how that particular man wasn’t the first security guard who’d gotten dangerously close to spotting him during his unofficial, self-driven investigations.

For the record, Ness knew that said investigations weren’t legal—especially not if you counted some of the things he’d. . .borrowed from the old animatronic jamboree restaurant—but he’d made his peace with that.

He hadn’t been sneaking around there to deal drugs or partake in any himself.

He wasn’t exactly chasing the adrenaline that always came with an evening full of ducking around corners and trying to ignore how loud his shoes sounded against linoleum floors when he rushed to find anything he could feasibly hide behind, underneath, or inside of.

He never meant any harm when it came to snooping.

It was just a simple case of having a little too much curiosity.

Thankfully, Security Guard #13 still had yet to show up at Ness’ place with some accompanying cops, so it seemed he didn’t recognize Ness as anything other than a humble waiter. (Or, if he did actually recognize Ness from that night, then he was miraculously chill enough to not bring it up and get him in trouble.)

The very first time they’d paid Sparky’s a visit, it would’ve been impossible to ignore the distinct smell that had been wafting off of Security Guard #13. It’d had a bite to it; like machine oil mixed with something much more. . .organic.

From that bleak look Ness had seen in his eyes, Security Guard #13 was most certainly NOT what anyone could call unbothered, but he was still polite. Plus, Kid Sister was the type who just deserved all the crayons in the world, what with the little masterpieces she’d decorated the paper menus with.

So, yeah. There was a genuine difference between oddball customers and customers that made you lose some of your faith in humanity. 

People who asked for trout to be blended into their yogurt parfait or for their donuts to be topped with slices of pickles that had gathered fuzz from their mysterious journeys at the back of the refrigerator were still easier to handle than people who threw temper tantrums because they didn’t get a refill in under thirty seconds. 

Back to the pie-chart—another forty-six percent of customers were perfectly decent and standard.

Plenty of the locals had a soft spot for this joint; Ness had lost count of all the times he’d been told that the pancakes served here were some of the best on planet Earth. Yeah, praise like that technically wasn’t directed at him, but the cooks were great people to work with, so it still made him happy to relay said praise to them. 

He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t awkward for someone to confusedly ask if they’d already seen him working at the bar on the other side of town. Even so, that once-a-month occurrence always left him amused rather than annoyed. If anything, it attested to that particular customer’s observation skills. 

Sure, he and Sans were identical twins—the fact that their uncle had mixed them up on several different occasions when they were little was still a running joke in the family. But it’d been years since Sans had decided to remedy that via a skeleton face-mask and a dark blue leather jacket, and he’d made a habit to don both aforementioned garments each day ever since then. (Ness was still in partial disbelief that the manager at Grillby’s was cool enough to let Sans wear them over his uniform.)

Just as many of Sans’ customers apparently ended up mistaking him for Ness. Sans got a nice little kick out of that, of course. He hadn’t just been born with a comedic heart—it truly seemed every bone in his body was a funny one. Some people would argue that he just delivered puns upon more puns upon even more puns, but Ness knew his brother better than that. 

After all, Sans had been the one to train him to deal with the last category of customers: the thirty percent of entitled neanderthals who thought treating staff as less than human would somehow magically make their miserable lives more interesting. 

“Food work is all about balance,” Sans had explained sometime after he and Ness had grown tall enough to take plates and cups from a counter without having to stand on their tip-toes. “You’ve gotta be nice and still let people know that you won’t take their crap. If they’re civil, then you’re helpful. But if they’re rude. . .” Sans had paused, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “. . .then you have a little fun.” 

Ness had always been a pretty fast learner. It’d taken a week or so of practice, yeah, but with his twin’s help, he’d developed a tongue sharp enough to rival any butcher knife in the kitchen.

“You use a lot of big words for a waiter,” snorted a wannabe business bigshot with a wrinkled clip-on tie and a way, waaaaaay over-gelled hairdo that spoke volumes of desperation. 

Ness, who’d been explaining the differences between certain ingredients and flavor-enhancing chemicals because Hair Gel’s girlfriend had asked a fair question about the smoothies on the menu, barely batted an eyelid when he came back with, “And you smell a lot like hotdog water for someone who apparently doesn’t work with food.”

“This was the WORST thing I’ve ever put in my mouth!” Exclaimed a woman with an unidentifiable crust caked around the corners of her eyes and an ill-fitting shirt that was advertising some essential oil brand.

“I highly doubt that,” Ness mentioned, raising an eyebrow as he took the plate (which was suspiciously much emptier than when he’d first brought it out) from her table, “but whatever you say. . .”

“Oh! Thank you!” A tiny boy who couldn’t have been older than seven chirped, bouncing in his seat when Ness placed a sundae down in front of him.

Ness had been about to reply, but the boy’s mother—a lady who was trying very hard to look posh (but not succeeding very well due her asymmetrical haircut, as well as all the little green marks around the jewelry she was practically drowning in)—cut him off. 

“You don’t need to thank him, sweetheart,” she’d instructed, reaching across the table to corral her son. “That’s his job.”

That one had, admittedly, forced Ness to take a deep breath and appeal to his higher self for a few seconds.  Despite this, he’d still made sure to look that Karen dead in the eyes when he observed, “I’m not sure what your problem is, ma’am. But it must be hard for you to pronounce.”

(At least the boy didn’t seem to be too influenced; his bright eyes were nothing but apologetic when Ness came back with the check.)

The relative silence was shattered by the jingling call of that little bell suspended over the front entrance. Ness blinked, his train of thought screeching to a halt. He glanced over in the door’s direction, grinning at a familiar sight. 

Another regular; one that Ness got to have actual conversations with on nights like tonight. 

Mason glanced around at all the empty tables, brushing back his nearly shoulder-length raven hair and quickly getting the hint that he could just seat himself.

A golden retriever trotted beside him, connected to a leash in his hand via a pink vest that’d been fastened around her shoulders and belly. It was adorned by black velcro straps that read THERAPY DOG in a bold white font. The forest-green sherpa hoodie Mason always seemed to wear was only about half as fluffy as her fur.

Ness ducked into the kitchen. No more than three seconds had passed before the last cook on duty for tonight—a lanky blonde guy who was perhaps the most unapologetically flamboyant foodie you could ever have the honor of knowing—called, “Order Up! Your buddies’ Usuals, fresh from that babbling kiddie pool of oil.”

Dylan set a triad of dishes onto a waiting platter: the first held a stack of waffles (much like Sparky’s pancakes, their recipe was a secret that his very own grandmother had entrusted him with) and fried chicken tenders. The second supported a small mound of bacon. The third was adorned by a couple club sandwiches with a side of mozzarella sticks.  

“Thanks, man. Right on time,” Ness called back as he hefted the platter up, balancing it on the anterior region of his forearm like he'd been taught so long ago, and traipsed back out. The door swung to and fro behind him as he headed over to Booth Five. 

Though she wasn’t actually in the booth, Checkers was still right by her owner’s side, sitting in a way that could almost remind you of those lion statues guarding the entrance to a Chinese temple. She spotted Ness before Mason did. Her ears perked up, tail starting to wag. Her tongue lapped in and out of her mouth like a party favor as she smiled in that way only dogs could.

Mason, who’d been gazing through the window and fidgeting with his hoodie’s drawstrings, ever-so-slightly flinched as Ness began setting the plates down on the table with a chorus of small clunks. He blinked at the food, as if suddenly remembering the weekly tradition he’d made here.

“How do you always do that?” Mason asked as he turned his head toward Ness, a small smile etching its way across his features. 

“Magic,” Ness answered. “Careful, it’s hot.”

He carried the now empty tray back over to the counter. There, his hands became a blur as he snatched up the coffee pot and produced a trio of mugs. After stirring memorized amounts of cream and sugar into the fresh brew, he returned to the table, setting two of the beverages beside the plates.

Ness hovered, his own cup of smoldering caffeine in hand, and glanced around the restaurant. Aside from Mason and those two writers in the corner (who, as Ness had learned, took generous amounts of time with the shakes they always ordered), Sparky’s was empty tonight. 

With that in mind, Ness dragged a chair away from one of the other tables, positioning it at the end of the booth. Yeah, he could’ve just sat on the opposite side of Mason, but that part of the booth was typically reserved for another one of his friends.

Subtle relief washed over Ness’ knees as he took a seat; he’d been standing and walking pretty much all day.

Mason plucked a strip of bacon from one of the plates, checking to make sure that it was nice and warm without threatening to burn the palette. He then lightly tossed it over to Checkers, who snapped it out of the air almost like a frog catching flies. She lowered her head as the treat crunched between her teeth.

“How’ve things been?” Ness inquired, taking a sip of his coffee. “The theater’s gotten busy, yeah?”

Mason nodded as he took a fork and knife into his hands, cutting a piece off of one of the waffles and dipping it into the complimentary cup of syrup. “Yeah, it really has. Feels like whenever one movie runs its course and is taken off our roster, two more pop up in its place. Especially now that Scream 3 is finally on the market."

“. . .Oh, that’s right! It is!” Ness ever-so-slightly jumped in his seat. After enjoying the first two movies, he’d been meaning to give the latest installment a look. But so far, whether it was Sparky’s being slammed on the more favorable days or Royal Edgar’s Cinema being too crowded for his liking, things had just kept getting in the way.

Acting on instinct, Ness fished a pencil from one of his waist-apron’s pockets. At first, said pencil might not have seemed like anything special. But then you saw Fabio: a priceless treasure shaped like a rubber chicken’s head covering up the eraser. Ness started spinning the pencil between his fingers, causing Fabio to wiggle as though it was alive.

“Have you seen it already? Is it good? I have so many ideas about where the story could pick up from—”

“Hey, hey. Slow down," Mason remarked with some clear exasperation. “I haven't, but I am scheduled to project its last showing sometime next week. . .” He took a bite out of one of the chicken tenders, humming thoughtfully as he chewed. He must’ve seen the glint in Ness’ eyes, because he offered a sly smirk and lowered his voice as he continued.

“Tell you what: I’ll find a way to sneak you into the projection booth. That way, we can check it out together when the day comes.” 

“Really? You’d do that for me?” Ness asked, jokingly clutching his mug in both hands and bringing it close to his heart. 

“Sure. It’s really not too different from the customers smuggling their own snacks past the ticket desk,” Mason shrugged, though his mischievous demeanor briefly turned deadpan. “So long as you don’t play detective the entire time. My boss would rip me a new one if I just paused the movie every five minutes to let you brainstorm and talk.”

Ness scoffed, rolling his eyes. “It wouldn’t be every five minutes.”

Mason raised an eyebrow. “You’re right; it’d probably be every two minutes.” He forked up another bite of the waffles, firmly ignoring the offended waiter noises. 

“Oh, and don’t try to guilt-trip me out of my food, either. I’ve already got one moocher to deal with.” Mason scratched Checkers’ ears, to which she responded via tilting her head to the side, an undeniable trace of smugness in the warmth of her amber eyes.

“You drive a hard bargain,” Ness pronounced, his voice dripping with much more sarcasm than usual, “but fine. I can work with that.” 

“Uh-huh. You’d better,” Mason snorted, reaching over to shake hands with his friend as though the two of them were lawyers who’d just settled on some sleazy business arrangement. 

Mason was a complex person. Everyone had issues, and he was no exception to that. Not like he was at all open about said issues, but once you got to know him, you’d start to see them. (Plus, that just seemed a lot nicer than describing him as a swarm of issues shaped like a man.) He was the type to constantly shift in his seat, to give most people the side-eye, to get lost in his thoughts and grimace at nothing until he snapped himself out of it. 

At least he seemed content working at the theater. Even with the spark of horror that never seemed to leave his eyes, Mason was clearly a creative bastard. Sometimes he’d bring notebooks in and take breaks from his meal to fill their pages with paragraphs or sketches. He really did seem to have the potential for acting, maybe even directing. If his critiques and commentary on the movies he had to watch from the projection booth were anything to go by, then the projects he could possibly work on would be nothing short of awesome. 

He’d actually been one of Freddy’s past security guards. Ironically enough, he and Ness hadn’t met there. Not that Ness minded, since A. if that’d been the case, there probably would’ve been way more confused screaming than there usually was at Sparky’s, and B. considering the fact that Mason’s employment had apparently lasted a whopping one singular night. . . 

Ness still didn’t know the full story, and he could tell pressing Mason for info wouldn’t end well. But with the few snippets Jack had carefully enlightened him with. . .well—

Speak of the devil. 

The front door’s bell only had about half a second to chime yet again, almost drowned out by rapid footsteps.

“You’re late,” Ness jokingly chastised as he caught dark brown skin and black hair in his peripheral vision. He shifted in his chair, moving his legs to make some room under the table as another one of his regular-friends hurried over to claim Booth Five’s empty seat. 

“Yeah, yeah. Sue me,” Jack retorted, instantly propping his elbows on the table to knead at his forehead. It took a few long seconds for him to notice how one of his favorite dishes had apparently been waiting for him. He squinted at the food, then at Ness. “. . .I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to make it tonight?”

“And yet, here you are,” Ness replied, the definition of coy with how his shoulders popped up and down again. 

Jack might’ve wanted to ask more questions, but Mason cut him off. “Look, I don’t get it either. He doesn’t know, but he just knows.”

Jack considered this, then tilted his head to convey the type of acceptance that only came when you couldn’t really question things that probably should be questioned because you already had too many things to focus on. 

“Thanks, dude,” he murmured, nodding to Ness as he plucked one of the mozzarella sticks from his plate.

Ness nodded back, taking a few more gulps of coffee. “No problem.”

Jack paused mid-bite, eyes darting over to the brew that’d been poured for him. He scrutinized it, then raised the mug up and started chugging like a champ. 

The display made Ness glad that he’d taken the time to experiment with coffee so long ago. There was no doubting how he could now calculate exactly how much time it took for coffee to go cold. Yeah, this particular serving had been fresh out of the pot a few minutes ago, but by now it had to be at optimal temperature. Neither scalding nor tepid: just nice and warm. 

After about a moment, Jack pulled the now empty mug away from his face, taking a deep breath as he set it back down on the table.

“Rough day?” Ness inquired, specific parts of his brain starting to tick. 

Something seemed off. 

It wasn’t like he had any room to talk about slight bean juice addictions. And he certainly couldn’t blame Jack for a dependency (especially since he’d even shown some undeniable intrigue at Ness’ argument that coffee was a type of soup). Sure, Jack wasn’t narcoleptic, but when a day-and-night operating cabbie didn’t have access to some perks, things just wouldn’t go well for him or his passengers. 

But whenever Jack popped in for a bite and a chat, it was easy to assume that he’d be heading home and going to bed right after his meal. Right now, however, his demeanor was anything but tired. His shoulders were rigid. His eyes were more or less threatening to pop right out of their sockets. In fact, he almost seemed to be weighing the options of never sleeping again. 

Jack chewed his lip as he glanced in the waiter’s direction. He slowly nodded. “. . .You could say that.”

Ness exchanged glances with Mason, who had obviously seen the signs for himself. As did Checkers, since she quietly maneuvered around Ness’ chair to rest her head on Jack’s lap, peering up at him with an almost human-like air of understanding. Jack didn’t hesitate to pet the shiny fur along the dog’s neck, to which her tail started wagging but she otherwise remained still.

“What happened?” Mason asked, sitting up a little straighter. “If the vibes you’re giving off got her attention, then it must be something serious.”

Jack grimaced, closing his eyes with what seemed to be more force than necessary, taking a few long seconds to rub at their lids. 

“Did you see any rabbit-shaped things out by the dumpster? I think they only come around once a month or so, but I always feel strange if I look at them.” The words glided out of Ness’ mouth and into the air before he could think. 

Self-induced humiliation wrapped its awful, clammy hands around his ribcage as two confused glances were aimed in his direction.

“. . .What?” Jack and Mason blurted in near-perfect unison.

“What?” Ness echoed, blinking as his voice instantaneously grew a smidge louder than before. He rushed to plaster his typical, happy-go-lucky demeanor back onto his face, hoping that pretending he hadn’t spoken at all would convince his friends that he actually hadn’t. 

Not only did his latest sentence sound weird as all hell, but it’d also been downplayed as all hell. Because when Ness had said strange, what he’d really meant was the pounding, churning, pummeling agony that should only ever be present in your stomach after you’ve accidentally swallowed a few dozen live rats that just so happen to be whacked out on cocaine for whatever godforsaken reason. 

And while he wasn’t a perfect angel, Ness would never wish that particular pain on anyone else. So, the fewer people who knew about the floppy-eared cryptids (which Ness could’ve sworn looked like they’d been covered in mucus) that were apparently engrossed in  gang warfare with the local raccoons, the better. 

“Ah, did you get a bad passenger today?” Ness coughed. Jack had to deal with as many entitled idiots as Ness, if not even more. Hell, taking turns venting about that stuff was something they’d initially bonded over.

He peered through the window next to the booth—Jack’s cab was parked close enough to see that there wasn’t anything to indicate an accident. Not a life-threateningly serious one, at least. 

“Not exactly,” Jack replied, following his gaze. Where Ness’ eyes were curious, Jack’s were currently anxious and mistrusting. That was another red flag: Jack may not have treated his taxi like it was his baby, but he still took pretty good care of it. “Just a few more weirdos.” 

Mason hummed, tilting his head. “How weird specifically?” He’d heard plenty of Jack’s tales from the road; as he called on Jack for rides somewhat often, he’d even ended up being part of those tales. 

Jack knitted his brows, fidgeted in place. “You don't want to know."

“. . .Then why did you make it sound so damn vague?” Mason retorted, now dripping with incredulousness. “The less specific details are, then the more they’re gonna nag at someone’s brain.”

“He’s got a point,” Ness agreed, lightly tapping Fabio’s pencil against his mug. 

“Like that’s my fault,” Jack snorted. “Most people wouldn’t believe me if I told them.”

Ness offered an encouraging smile. “Good thing we’re not most people, then.”

Mason nodded. “Damn right. C’mon, Jack; are you really saying something could top the crackhead I had to share the backseat with last month?” 

“Yes, I am,” Jack whisper-shouted through gritted teeth, “because it was a bear!” 

Silence (save for the soft click-clack of keyboards from the corner of the diner, that is).

Jack pursed his lips, looking equal parts exasperated and worried. He sighed yet again, reaching up to press his fingers against his temples.

“. . .What kind of bear was it?” Ness eventually tried. 

Mason, who’d previously been squinting while his mouth opened and closed with no words coming out, turned his head to face Ness with such speed and force that he might’ve actually given himself whiplash. “That’s the first thing you focus on?!”

Ness made a shaky lame gesture. “It’s a fair question! What’re you focusing on?” (He wasn’t wrong. There was a lot of variety among bears, after all. And a bear that lived in the woods and had huge claws and could outeat, outrun, outswim, and probably even outdrink the average person would be a lot more to handle than one of the bears that had attended the latest local Pride parade.) 

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you,” Mason declared, returning his attention to Jack, “look significantly less mauled than most people who get close to bears! Seriously, how is your face still connected to your skull?!” 

“I didn’t mea—!” Jack was about to go on the defensive, but stopped short. “What, were you expecting me to get ripped to shreds tonight? So damn sorry if I didn’t get the memo!”

“No! Of course not!” Mason contended. “Look, you can’t just say you had a run-in with a bear and leave it at that!”

Jack threw his hands up. “Well, I told you you didn’t want to know!”

“How the hell can we not NEED to know now?” Ness pointed out. Though he was growing just as confused as Mason, he tried to keep his voice even.

Jack gave him an exhausted look before craning his neck to rest his head against the booth’s seat, staring at the ceiling. 

“It was a huge robot,” he finally clarified. “Looked like it’d been at the bottom of a scrap heap for years; I’d guess it was older than my dad. But its eye glowed blue like the machines inside it were still working. It made the car shake—I’m honestly surprised the back tires never gave out. And God damn, the smell. . .rust and blood and mucus, I swear!”

Now it was Mason’s turn to go rigid. A tidal wave of emotion seemed to sweep through his features; first surprise, then recognition, and then dread. He placed a hand on the nearest corner of the table as if to steady himself. 

“It was wearing a black top hat and bowtie, wasn’t it?” He murmured. It sounded much more like a statement than a question, and the way his tone had become so hollow didn’t help.

Jack lowered his head, clearly unsure whether or not to make eye-contact as he nodded. 

“Sounds like the way Freddy was designed. . .” Ness mused without quite meaning to. 

Memories of the huge sign that had been built to loom over the old pizzeria’s front entrance flooded into his head. The blinking lights that bordered the establishment’s title and seemed to chase each other around and around and around. The life-sized cutout of the one and only Freddy Fazbear himself, using one paw to adjust his bowtie and the other to wave, seemingly beckoning customers to wander inside. 

Those memories dissolved as Ness winced and glanced back at Mason, who was now reaching up with a shaking hand to grasp at his hoodie’s collar, tugging it to cover up the top of an old, deep scar that dragged along the skin of his neck. Ness shuffled in his seat, trying not to stare at how quickly the color drained from his friend’s face. 

Checkers was back by Mason’s side in an instant, bracing her paws against the seat as she licked at his face. Mason blinked, a huge shudder rippling through his chest as he hugged his pet.

A few minutes dragged by, feeling like an hour apiece and jeering at the trio as they went.

“So.” Mason finally announced, still keeping his gentle-yet-obviously-desperate hold on Checkers. “Let me get this straight: that. . .that thing got into your cab like it paid rent just a few hours ago?” 

Jack pursed his lips, nodding again. “There was a kid with it, too. A little girl. She didn’t even seem scared at all. The whole ride, she was smiling and hugging the bear’s arm—”

“Wait, you actually drove it somewhere?!” Mason demanded.

Jack sputtered. “What other choice did I have?!”

“I mean, that’s kind of literally his job,” Ness mentioned. 

True, he was grappling with the fact that he and his friends had apparently been transported into some cheap bizzarofiction novel. And yet, somehow, this wasn’t even the craziest story that’d been relayed to him from a customer. He peered down at Fabio as though it was about to start contributing to this conversation. “Where did you take them?”

Jack raised an eyebrow at Ness (which he guessed couldn’t be helped. Ness already had an idea, but it was rude to just assume, wasn’t it?). “Where else? That old pizza joint you’ve been trying to write an encyclopedia on.”

Mason was about to say something else, but stopped short in favor of turning his shock toward Ness.

Ness raised his hands in a defensive gesture. “Look, I know you don’t like that place, but just remember that I don’t question what you do with your free-time.”

“That’s right. And even if you did, you wouldn’t have to, because I don’t spend my free-time poking around the fourth Circle of Hell!” Mason snarked. 

“I won’t lie and say it’s not creepy,” Ness admitted, unable to stop a chill from racing down his spine at the memory of the restaurant’s grimy wall posters, the draft that always seemed to be in the air over there, the disturbingly sour tang of what he’d hoped was just ancient pizza sauce, “but that still seems pretty harsh.”

Mason gawked, fragments of words leaking through his teeth.

“If we’re looking at the bigger picture,” Jack coughed, probably attempting to steer Mason away from a potential stroke, “then nothing really happened tonight. The bear didn’t even make a peep the whole time. I didn’t get hurt, and that girl didn’t get hurt. She even left a handful of change when we got to the restaurant.”

Ness squinted and tilted his head at that. As far as he knew, the rules Jack applied to his cab were pretty lax and basic, but he’d always been firm on never taking money from lone child passengers.

Then again, if the child passenger in question was traveling with a huge robotic animal that apparently had enough sentience to use a taxi in the first place, it was probably best to just go along with whatever happened and leave the sanity-questioning session for later.

Jack fiddled with the zipper on his jacket. “. . .That actually wasn’t even the worst part of tonight’s shift.”

Mason leaned back against the leather seat, looking very much lightheaded. His eyes bulged from their sockets as he furiously motioned for his friend to elaborate. 

Jack hesitated before explaining, “Well, once the girl and the bear were out, I decided to just call it a day. After I got far enough away from the pizzeria, I parked by one of the downtown curbs and switched the car’s sign to Off Duty. I was trying to get a catnap in—”

“It’s a miracle you could even try to sleep after that damn bear basically held you hostage,” Mason interjected.

“—when someone knocked on the window. I told ‘em to read the sign and come find me later, but they opened up the door and got in anyway. So, I was about to kick them out and. . .” Jack trailed off, shaking his shoulders as though a few dozen cockroaches had spontaneously taken up nest in his jacket.  

“And. . .?” Ness echoed, the curiosity-concern cocktail in his mind getting stronger.

“And there was some tiny doll in my passenger seat,” Jack concluded. “Looked creepy as hell.”

Ness hummed in consideration. “Sounds like it could just be a weird prank? The teens in that area are always following strange trends.”

Jack nervously shook his head. “I couldn’t see anyone outside the cab. It only took a few seconds for me to look; there’s no way anyone could move fast enough to hide after they put the doll in.”

“A tiny doll. . ?” Mason’s brow furrowed in thought for a couple seconds, then promptly returned to its collision course for Mars. He leaned over the table. “Did it have bug-eyes and buck teeth? Was it wearing one of those stupid propeller hats and holding a red-and-yellow striped balloon?”

Jack’s face contorted in confusion as he nodded. “. . .That pretty much sums it up.”

Though his expression was still grim, Mason’s fear quickly metamorphosed into some good ol’ fashioned aggravation. “That’s the bastard,” he seethed, knuckles turning white. 

Jack blinked, perplexity slowly overtaking his latest case of heebie-jeebies. “Wait, you’ve seen that thing before?”

“I have, unfortunately.” Mason grimaced. An odd type of adrenaline etched its way across his face. “Is it still in the cab?”

Jack nodded again. “I didn’t want to risk touching it.”The words were barely out of his mouth when Mason rose from the booth and stalked outside through Sparky’s front entrance. Checkers trotted after him, the tiredness of an actual nurse flickering in her eyes.

Ness and Jack basically had frontrow seats to observe their friend approaching Jack’s cab, ripping the passenger-side door open and fishing something out before slamming it closed again.

With that, Mason raced to the edge of the parking lot and proceeded to dropkick what had to be the mysterious balloon-toting doll out of sight.

Despite his shock, part of Ness still felt relieved that Mason hadn’t simply deposited it into the dumpster. Just in case those awful rabbit-looking things happened to be paying a visit tonight. . .

@sammys-magical-au @that-bat @th3w00ds @bee-the-matpat-simp @touyubesposts @crazy-obsessed-enby @i-used-to-wear-the-fedora @holyawesomestitches @s-e-v-e-n-24 @sotogalmo @ciphershadow @deethedustyassdumbass @theechoingmadness @its-a-goddamn-ass-race @zam-witch @box-goat @redd-byrd @icantmakeupagoodname @pleasedontmind-the-emerald @transparentghosty @vegaslvrr @itzqueers-blog @wannabeavocaloidmystery @shivr0ygf @ciara-clycone @not-made-of-actual-rye @m0on-shro0m @imafruitbowl @azure-trash @il0v3mus1cals @v1r-x @kafkaisnotdead @junaslagoon @alicethemenace @ilovenikkisixx @m00nlight-mexican @w0rd3855 @head-without-a-fucking-brain. @unkn0wn-nys @not-made-of-actual-rye @101k-t101 @theonlykala @dividel @riff-is-on-a-fucking-crisis @roselily2006 @max-afton @abe-the-detective-blog @floating-above-sea-level @madhare051

[ariadosanon]

[A video is attached. The image of a smirking Rotom sits in the corner of the recording. Nictoria’s phone has been hijacked again… it floats just behind her, filming out of sight.

Nictoria is standing by a battlefield, watching two Pokémon from the sidelines. A Lotad faces off against a Jolteon, the former sparking with anticipation. Nictoria’s arms are crossed as she watches, her Pinsir standing right by her side in a similar pose.

“Otto,” She called out to one of the battlers, the camera discreetly turning to face the Lotad’s owner. The young boy looks up at his teacher, fiddling with his green sweatband.

“You remember your type advantages?” She asked, placing one hand on her hip expectantly. “Happy is an electric type. He’ll wipe the floor with PIE GUY.” She pointed out, gesturing to the Lotad in question, who was sporting a matching red band around his leafy cap. Otto smiled, shaking his head at his teacher. “I know what I’m doing, Mrs Nicky.” He promised, “Today’s lesson gave me all sorts of ideas!”

Nictoria snorted, shaking her head at the boy. “Right. I shouldn’t question your judgment then.” She took a few steps back, holding her hand up so both battlers could see.

“This battle will go until the Pokémon on one side can no longer fight. The use of potions, elixirs, and all other trainer operated enhancements is banned.” She looked between her two students, making sure they were listening.

“”Right!””

“Begin.”

Otto, the revealed owner of PIE GUY immediately made the first move. “PIE GUY! Tickle Happy!”

The Lotad nodded, scuttling forwards and launching itself at the Jolteon. It landed on the other Pokémon’s back, immediately waving its nubs in its fur wildly. Happy snickered for a moment, then began to laugh, rolling around in attempts to get PIE GUY off his back.

“What— hey Otto that’s no fair!— You can’t just tickle him! That’s not a real move”

Nictoria shook her head.

“It’s a legal move, Miley.” She informed the girl.

“What?! No way!” She cried out, pulling on her twin braids in dismay.

“Well Okay— then Happy— Use Thunder!” She ordered, pointing at the sky dramatically.

Happy the Jolteon began to crackle with electricity, the sky right above the Pokémon darkening to reveal a small, black cloud. Nictoria let out an audible ‘huh.’ Clearly surprised at the introduction of such a high powered move to the battlefield.

“PIE GUY, Protect!”

The Lotad let out a chirp, hunkering down on Happy’s fur and surrounding itself with a thin, glistening layer of energy. A huge thunderbolt crashed down from the sky onto the two Pokémon, illuminating the camera with yellow light. Nictoria’s Pinsir visibly flinched, the pinchers on its head latching and unlatching.

“Down, Pinsir.” The woman hissed under her breath, side eying her Pokémon.

When the electricity had visibly cleared, PIE GUY was unscathed.

“Lo-tad.” He announced, his leafy cap held high in pride. Jolteon’s owner, Miley, gasped again, still pulling on her braids in frustration. “No way no WAY! Protect really does prevent all damage!”

“Well at least SOMEONE has been listening to my lectures.” Nictoria shouted back at the battlefield, following up with a loud ‘HAH’ as PIE GUY himself nodded at her in confirmation.

“Now PIE GUY, use Water Pulse, just like we practiced!”

“Tad!” The Lotad hopped into the air, almost majestically despite his stumpy little legs. PIE GUY did a brief spin midair, sending a ring like blast of water and air from his mouth flying at Jolteon.

“Oh no— Happy, dodge! Don’t let it hit you!” Miley shouted to her Pokémon, clearly resisting the urge to run on the field herself.

The Jolteon didn’t seem to listen to her, instead trying to jump through the middle of the move, miscalculating the force of the air in the center. Happy was thrown back slightly, but didn’t take that much visible damage.

“Right— Water isn’t very effective against electric, like how electric is super effective against water…!” Miley said aloud, breathing a soft sigh of relief.

Otto laughed, pointing at Happy dramatically. “Don’t be so sure of yourself Miley! My plan is already working!”

“What’re you—…!” Happy the Jolteon stumbled over his own paws listlessly, head swaying back and forth like a boat in uncomfortable waters.

“Eeee-ooooon, eeee-onnnn~” it dumbly murmured, clearly confused.

Nictoria clapped her hands, grinning wide. “Very nice gamble there, Otto!” She praised, nodding at the young boy in acknowledgement of his strategy.

“I’m not done yet, PIE GUY, start hitting him with Mega Drain!”

Miley began to panic as PIE GUY began to Sap Happy’s energy, easily dodging the confused Pokémon’s stumbling attacks.

“Happy, focus! Use Thunder again!”

The Jolteon tried to obey, but the move refused to land, the immense charge up time leaving too many openings for PIE GUY to dodge and confuse his enemy yet again.

In a matter of seconds, Happy suddenly tripped, face planting on the battlefield and knocking himself out. The young Jolteon groaned in exhaustion, ears flopping to the side as it lay flat on the ground.

“Jolteon is unable to battle! Which makes Otto the winner!” Nictoria announced.

“But— we didn’t get to do our finishing move!” Otto protested, walking forwards and picking up his Lotad.

“As lucky as you were for that battle, and you’re still not happy with how it went?” Nictoria asked, grinning as she playfully rustled the kid’s hair. “Don’t even worry about it. You’ll get lots of chances to show off your new move if you keep battling like that.” She promised.

That was enough for Otto, it seemed. The boy nodded, scampering off with his Lotad and talking to it about their ‘big move.’

The camera panned to Miley, who was clearly holding back tears of frustration. Nictoria made a motion to her Pinsir, telling it without words to stay put. The Pokémon obeyed, sitting down where it was previously standing. She approached her student, squatting down beside her and her Jolteon.

“Don’t beat yourself up about this Miley.” She told the girl, pulling a revival herb from one of her many pockets. She opened up the Jolteon’s mouth, placing the bundled plant inside and gently making it chew.

“But, this is the third battle I’ve lost this week.” Miley said softly, looking down at her Jolteon, tears still welling in her eyes.

“Happy won’t listen to me anymore— Not since he evolved.” She hiccuped, watching as the Pokémon slowly stirred, sitting up weakly as it reluctantly swallowed the bitter herb.

“It’s like he doesn’t love me anymore.”

Nictoria immediately opened her mouth to say something, but paused. Her expression wavered, as if she was fighting the urge to say something on instinct alone.

“Listen, that’s not it.” She finally said, putting a gloved hand on Miley’s shoulder. “Happy doesn’t dislike you now— or anything like that.”

The Jolteon looked up at the two trainers, its big eyes staring at the two expectantly.

“When your ma gave you that stone— he wasn’t quite ready for it is all. He wanted to be an Eevee a bit longer I’d wager.” She tried to explain. “You said you two used to be real in synch, right?”

“Uh huh…”

“Well— Happy isn’t in synch with himself anymore, either.” She said, idly scratching under the Jolteon’s chin. “Imagine you woke up one day— your legs are longer, your hairs a different color, and now you’ve got more energy than you know what to do with, and nobody warned you.”

“I don’t think I’d like that…” Miley said softly.

“And you’d be pretty out of sorts for a while after it happened wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah.” She confirmed.

“Give it time, then.” Nictoria promised, patting her back gently. “You two will be able to battle like you used to soon enough. In the meantime try and be understanding.” She said.

Miley nodded, taking hold of Happy and hugging him tightly. The Jolteon returned the hug happily, nuzzling into its trainer.

“Now listen to what I tell you all in the lecture today— because I have a thing or two to teach you about moves like Thunder.”

“But my mom just bought me the tm— she said it was the strongest move ever!”

Nictoria visibly grimaced.

“Of course she did.”

The video cuts off here.]

[unknownspecies]

[Like This?]

[Kuroo x f!reader]

“Tetsuro, you’re a dork,” Kenma grumbled, taking a bite out of his slice of pie.

“Me?! You have no idea what you’re talking about. You literally have no love life.” Kuroo scoffed indignantly.

You, Kenma, and Kuroo decided to meet up at a bakery to hang out. You met Kenma a few years ago and have become close friends ever since. He introduced you to his best friend and you three quickly became a close trio.

His friend raised a brow, “Oh really? You don’t know that.”

You snorted and Kuroo screeched, “what the fuck?! Even if you do have game, the only reason those women get with you is because you’re famous.”

Kenma sipped on his drink and eyed him, “They didn’t even know my name. Besides, I’m not the one who’s so socially incompetent that I can’t recognize when a girl is flirting with me.”

You giggled, “He has a point there, love.” Kuroo glared at you, “You mind your business.”

“See? She’s literally flirting with you and you don’t even notice.” Kenma pointed out.

“Are you talking about her calling me ‘love’? She calls everyone that! That’s not flirting, that’s just her being affectionate.” He stared at the both of you, upset that his two friends were ganging up against him and calling him out on his lack of love life.

You and Kenma exchanged a knowing look. Kenma knew of your crush on him, but it wasn’t really hidden either. You flirted with Kuroo at every chance that you got and this buffoon still couldn’t take the hint. You normally would be worried that Kuroo was just denying your advances, but you’ve known him long enough to see that he was an absolute idiot when it came to anything romantic.

You decided to slightly alter the subject. “So Kenma, if you’ve been with girls, what are some hot things that we do?”

You were genuinely curious, wanting to get a guy’s perspective on the subject of attraction.

Kenma shrugged, “All girls are pretty. It depends on the guy. I personally like someone who’s laid back and doesn’t-”

“I don’t think she cares about your personal taste, Kenma. She wants to know what girls do that you think are hot. Now I’m curious about my best friend’s taste. I bet he likes it when she’s bold though,” he elbowed you and you snorted at your crush’s comment. “Be nice,” you muttered and looked at Kenma, awaiting his answer.

He rolled his eyes at Kuroo’s interruption. “I’m not going to lie. I find it hot when girls tie their hair up. Or anything that takes it out of their faces.”

You snickered, “I wonder why.” Then quickly took a sip of your drink laughing at Kenma flipping you off. “What about you Kuroo? What does the handsome nincompoop that can’t take a hint like girls doing?”

Kuroo scowled at the insult then stirred his drink in thought. After a moment, he responded.

“I think I would love it if a girl were to grab my face. The boldness is really hot-”

Before he could make another sound, your hand shot up to grip his jaw. You pulled your faces together and brushed your lips against his. You then grazed it along his jaw until your lips were against his ear.

“Like this?” you murmured, your breath fanning against him. You turned your head to face him, then slowly backed away, smirking. You took a sip of your drink, staring at him from your periphery. You were shocked at your sudden action, but you were also growing impatient. You hoped that this would’ve been enough to show him your feelings towards him.

To say that Kuroo was red would be an understatement. His entire face was flushed and he was stuttering. You weren’t even sure he knew what he wanted to say.

He grabbed his cup and shoved the straw in his mouth. After a few moments of tense silence, he mumbled.

“Yeah... Like that.”

Kenma groaned loudly, rolling his eyes. “For fuck’s sake you guys need to get a room.”

[skinnyducky]

poster girl // v.h.

a/n this was supposed to be a double update yesterday but i literally fell asleep the minute i posted it. i was very inspired by 00′s sex comedies for this one, so if you see some american pie influence in there, that’s why. anyways, back to our regularly scheduled program.

p.s. y/h/c = your hair colour

vinnie hacker x fem!reader

Word Count: 837, edited

WARNING: language, mentions of self-gratification (lol), and that’s all.

---------

Y/n was seated in the dining room of the Hype House, feet kicked up onto the table as she flipped through the newest issue of Vogue, the same one she just so happened to grace the cover of. It came as a shock when the famous fashion magazine decided to make her the poster girl for the month of July, but it wasn’t that surprising. Not only was Y/n an influencer, but she was a rising star in the modelling world. Her Vogue era was bound to happen at any moment.

As she gazed at the various photographs and spreads, all consisting of her in dark and sultry positions, she reached for the box of chocolate turtles on the table right next to her. However, before she could even snag one, there was a knock at the door. "You guys, someone’s at the door!" She shouted, hoping one of her roomies in the next room over would get it.

However, the knocking ensued. She scoffed, tossing her magazine onto the table. "You know what, I’ll get it!" She got out of her comfortable spot and headed to the front door. "Assholes can spend an hour making one tiktok but can’t take a second to answer the damn door." She grumbled.

She opened the door and was greeted by an elderly man holding a large Starbucks drink. "Order for a…Winnie Sacker?"

Y/n snickered, "I think you mean Vinnie Hacker, and yes he is here. I will gladly take that." She took the drink for the man and shut the door, not before bidding him a ‘thank you.’ She then proceeded to make her way up the stairs to deliver Vinnie his drink. On her way to his room, she stole a few sips of the delicious latte. It’s not like he’d care, they were best friends.

As she stepped up to his door, she couldn’t help but notice there was a bit of commotion going on inside. She pressed her ear against the door, Vinnie’s low moans and groans flowing into her ear.

"Oh my god," he wailed. "Oh, that’s it."

Y/n’s brows knitted together, the girl curious as to what was going on inside. Was he in the middle of streaming? He was notorious for making random noises during his streams. Or maybe he was in the middle of a steamy foreplay session with some girl on Facetime. Either way, it couldn’t be that bad.

Without a knock or a shout, Y/n barged into his room. "Hey Vinnie, I got your— OH MY GOD!"

Y/n couldn’t believe her eyes. There, standing just a few feet away from her in front of his window, was Vinnie…butt ass naked, with one hand gripping his one-eyed trout and the other holding a magazine.

"Oh my god, Vinnie, I didn’t know you had it like that!" Y/n teased, shielding her eyes.

"Fucking hell, Y/n, get out!"

"I just," she laughed, trying to catch her breath. "I just came by…to drop off…your drink."

"Okay, cool! Drop it off and leave, please!"

Without removing her hand from her eyes, Y/n roamed around the room until her hand came in contact with the coolness of his computer desk. After placing the drink down, she started making her exit. But before she left, she turned towards Vinnie and split her fingers to get a quick peek, wanting to see how red in the face the boy was. Just as she thought, he was absolutely flushed, his cheeks redder than Satan’s dick.

Though she couldn’t help it as her eyes gravitated to the magazine that was covering his junk. While it was upside down, she was able to comprehend what the image was. She recognized the facial structure of the model, the same Y/h/c that pigmented the hair on top of her head, and the slight glimmer in said model’s eyes. That’s when she figured out that in his hands was the latest issue of Vogue. Well, there’s no doubt he was using that to unclog his drain, but does that mean he was tickling his pickle to…?

She pointed down at the thick booklet, her mouth forming into the shape of an ‘o.’

"Holy shit, you were jerking off to me!" She shrieked.

"Y/n, keep your voice down!"

"I don’t know if I should be embarrassed or weirded out," she said, ignoring his wish. "Eh, regardless, I’m flattered…I think."

Vinnie sighed, "Can we really not do this? I don’t know if you can see, but I’m literally naked and I would rather not deal with this right now when there’s wind blowing through my ass crack."

"I get it, dude. Carry on with, um, your session." Y/n spun around, taking her leave. Just as she stepped foot outside of his room, she once again looked back at her curly-haired friend. "By the way, if you’re trying to see the good stuff, page forty-six has a nice spread of me." She shot him a wink, walking out of his room both a blushing and giggling mess.

---------

tag list: @barbietiingz​ @tvdsure​ @hwrteye​ 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Neighbourly

Warnings: noncon sexual acts and rape, cheating, name calling, choking.

This is dark!Bucky Barnes and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Based on this drabble request: Bucky Barnes + “But you’re married.” + enemies/hate + Bucky hates reader (his wife's friend) but at the same time don't want other men near to her.

The door opened and you nearly flinched at the sharp blue eyes the greeted you, almost as blunt as the edged “hey”.

“Oh, uh, I was-- This is Anna’s,” you held out the round cake dish, you’d noticed it after last weekend’s barbecue, “thought I’d bring it back before I forgot.”

“Mmm,” Bucky eyed the little blue flowers around the rim and took it stiffly, “thanks, she’s not here so I’ll get it to her.”

“Alright, I..” you stuttered. Bucky Barnes was entirely off putting. His wife was your best friend on the street, yet he seemed to resent you for that, “well, thank you.”

You turned to flee before you withered beneath his impenetrable glare. You still didn’t know why he hated you so much, you only knew that when he came home and you were having a glass of wine with Anna, he barely acknowledged you, and on several occasions had failed to lower his voice when asking why you were there. 

It was worse even that you saw how friendly he was with the other neighbours. To you, he was a completely different man than the helpful suburban husband offering to mow Agnes’ lawn as he did his own.

“Hey,” you stopped at the bottom step and turned back to him, “that guy, you know, the one with the loud car, you wanna tell him to keep it down?”

“Brock?” you blinked and shook your head, “yeah, sure.”

“Really? Six a.m.?” he gripped the thick glass, “there’s children in this neighbourhood.”

“I get it, okay? I’ll let him know,” you sniffed and spun back to the walk.

“So he’s coming back?” Bucky asked.

You froze and breathed through your nostrils, “what do you care?”

“He’s not really… the type we welcome around here,” he sneered.

You turned on your heel and frowned at him, “As far as I recall, the HOA has no authority over my personal relationships.”

He snickered darkly and set the dish on the metal table beside the long bench. He stomped down his front steps and came up in front of you.

“Well, noise disturbances are within jurisdiction, you didn’t put on quite the show for everyone last night,” he smirked.

“Bullshit,” you refused to back down as he planted himself in front of you.

“Ah, you’re right, didn’t hear much but you left your curtains wide open, anyone could have walked by,” he looked down his nose, “I know I got a good look.”

“Dude, what is your problem?”

“You sure moved on quick,” he growled.

“Is this about Sam, really?”

“No, this is about you,” he countered, “about the scum you’re bringing into your bed and our neighbourhood.”

“Fuck off and mind your own business,” you spat and stormed away.

You marched down the sidewalk and across your yard. You slammed your front door behind you and locked it as you steamed. It was none of Bucky’s business who you were fucking. What did he care? Even if he did work with your ex, it was none of his business. You and Sam divorced over a year ago.

A knock came at the door, more a pounding. Really? Was he that desperate to be right? You ignored him and took your phone from the counter. You paired with your speaker and turned on your favourite playlist. You turned on the faucet and started loading the plates into the soapy water. He’d go away when he realised you didn’t give a fuck.

You bopped your head to the beat as you scrubbed and loaded the rack with dripping dishes. The knocking soon faded and you dried off your hands with the checker cloth and hung it back on the bar. You scrolled through your phone for a better song but it slipped from your hand as suddenly your neck was constricted by damp fabric.

You kicked out as the dishcloth was twisted around your neck and you flailed against the hard body behind you. The music disguised the noise of your struggle as you slapped at the thick forearm that snaked around your middle.

“Bucky?” you choked out.

“Shut up,” he snarled as he turned you and pushed you against the wet counter.

“What are you--” he pulled the cloth tighter and stifled your voice.

He grabbed the top of your jeans and you wriggled as he struggled to get them down. Your feet slipped on the tile as you grasped at both the noose at your throat and the edge of the counter. He jerked your body as he forced the denim to your knees and yanked down your panties just as roughly.

“Wha--” you coughed as he pushed his arm against your back and bent you over the sink, “But---you’re married-- Anna--”

“This isn’t about that,” he snarled and shifted behind you, his fly biting your flesh as he rolled down his own pants, “this is about you.”

“St--” he twisted the ends of the cloth again and your head bulged from the lack of air.

“Shhhh,” he leaned over you as the song faded out and another came on.

Sugar pie, Honey bunch…

He lined himself up and pulled your leg back. He held your head down by the faucet as he felt around and guided his tip to your entrance. You kicked wildly but not hard as your lungs burned. He slammed into you and your hips hit the counter so hard you thought they might break. He thrust again, harder, and your eyes watered.

“What are you gonna do?” he hissed as he rutted into you, “you gonna tell my wife? You think she’d believe you? You think she doesn’t see that prick driving up to your house every night? Everyone knows what a slut you are.”

You gulped up air as he loosened the cloth for a moment but before you could scream he tightened it again. He grabbed your chin with his other hand as he crashed into your over and over. He made you look out the window over your sink at the serene sight of the breeze rippling over green grass.

“No one will believe you,” he rasped and hummed as he held back a groan, “they’re all clueless, you hear that? They’re in their gardens, they’re at their barbecues, and here you are, just like a whore.”

Your eyes rolled back as your vision spotted and your temples throbbed. Your body was jolted with each rock of his hips and soon your toes didn’t even meet the floor. You faded into an agonized daze, hardly aware of his relentless pace.

“You’ll know,” he growled, “I’ll make sure you never forget this.”

☠☠☠

Please reblog and like! Let me know what you think.

[rosiehunterwolf]

There's Sand Everywhere!

(quick shoutout to @fires-of-ninjago for the title idea and inspiration for this- you remember that ask game where people suggested titles for fics and you had to come up with a story to go along with it? Well, he sent in this title, and I came up with this, and liked it so much that I screenshotted it and- here we are!)

Prompts: Summer and Heist

Word Count: 7,922

Characters: The whole gang (including Pixal) :)

Timeline: Between seasons 12 and 13

Trigger Warnings: none (holy shit that's never happened before-)

Summary: It was just supposed to be a day off. A simple beach day. But when your family consists of six ninja and a samurai, including a nindroid convinced he’s a detective, his reluctant sidekick, an aquaphobe, a girl who can command the sea, an unassuming teen who seems to attract every animal he crosses paths with, and a bunch of argumentative idiots, nothing is ever that easy.

Read on FFN.net

Read on Ao3

Tumblr work under the cut

“We,” Kai proclaimed, surveying the room, “Need a day off.”

Lloyd shrieked at the fire ninja’s sudden outburst, falling out of his chair. Jay broke into snickers, and Lloyd shot him a glare.

“Kai,” Zane sighed, “get off the table.”

Kai stuck his tongue out at the nindroid, but hopped down, anyway. “Look at you guys!” Kai waved his hands at the group for emphasis. Papers fluttered to the ground where Lloyd had knocked them in his fall, Jay and Nya were sitting on the ground, surrounded by stacks of books tall enough to be mistaken for some kind of fort, Pixal was gathering some of the papers that had gone everywhere, while Cole and Zane had only just paused in their task of boxing up and carrying crates to the far side of the room. “Filing documents and organizing? Boooring.”

“Tasks which you’ve been a big help with, by the way,” Lloyd grumbled, as Cole offered him a hand and pulled him to his feet. He turned back to the desk, shuffling papers off of the keyboard of his laptop, the screen filled with lines of script and dozens of files that made Kai's brain hurt just to look at.

Nya pushed her reading glasses up her nose. “Jay and I technically aren’t working. We chose to do this of our own free will.”

Kai rolled his eyes at her. “What kind of psychopaths read for fun?”

Jay kicked his leg out, aiming for Kai’s ankle, but Cole quickly stepped between them, stopping the conflict before it could escalate into anything worse.

“We’re not reading them, we’re sorting them in order from most potentially useful to least so. They’re mechanics and engineering books. You never know when they might come in handy in a pinch.”

“Oh, because that’s so much more interesting. If you guys wanna spend all your free time geeking out, fine, what do I care. But what about the rest of you? C’mon, Lloydster. You don’t really wanna spend your entire day doing this,” he gestured at the laptop and paper-strewn desk- “do you?”

“It’s not about whether or not I want to. This stuff is important, Kai.”

“Lloyd’s right,” Zane agreed. “With all the crazy missions we’ve been on lately, we’ve neglected all our paperwork, and taking care of the Monastery.”

“It’s because we’ve been gone so long that we need a break!” Kai argued. “We just got done saving the entire city from an evil video game AI! If that’s not worth celebrating, I don’t know what is.”

“Technically,” Nya remarked, not even glancing up from the book she was skimming, “That was Jay who did that.”

Kai spluttered, ignoring the smug look on Jay’s face. “Okay, yeah, but we helped! And what about Aspheera? Or the Never Realm? That was all of us. And we didn’t have time to properly recuperate from that before we got launched right into Prime Empire!”

Pixal’s brow furrowed. “Y’know, he has a point…”

A frown flitted across Zane’s face. “I suppose we have been working for a long time…”

“That’s what I’ve been saying! Come on, let’s do something fun.”

“Not video games,” Cole groaned. “Jay and I spent the last three days playing a Lava Zombies tournament, and I’m all gamed-out.”

“No, let’s actually go somewhere. Like the-”

“The library!” Jay pitched.

“Or the museum!” Zane suggested.

“No!” Kai snapped. “Man, you guys are so lame. I meant somewhere fun. We should go to-”

“The beach!” Nya cried suddenly, standing up so quickly that she sent a pile of books toppling over. “Brilliant idea, Kai!”

“Wait, no,” he yelped. “That’s not what I was going to-”

But no one heard him. They were already scrambling to their feet, murmuring excitedly to one another.

“Guys, wait!” he cried. “Why would you want to go to the beach? It’s all sandy, and wet, and-”

“Don’t worry, Kai,” Nya giggled, “we won’t let the ocean hurt you.”

“That’s not-” he felt himself turning red as the others laughed. “That’s not what I meant! I just thought… wouldn’t laser tag or something be a lot more fun?”

The others glanced at each other, uncertain. Zane stepped forward. “Let’s take a vote. All in favor of laser tag, raise your hands.”

Kai lifted his hand, but no one else did. He scowled at them.

“And all in favor of the beach?”

Six hands went up.

“Seems like we have a clear winner. Let’s get going, shall we?”

---

“Do you have the towels?”

“All here!”

“What about the sunscreen?”

“Hold on- Jay, did you grab the sunscreen?”

“What?”

Lloyd cupped his hands around his mouth, yelling louder. “Did you grab the sunscreen?”

“Oh yeah, it’s here! Wait, do you have my-”

“Your what?” Lloyd called, walking over to him, passing Pixal and Zane as they came out of the kitchen. The female nindroid sighed.

“Can’t anything get done around here without everyone making such a racket?”

“Nope,” Nya elbowed her playfully. “When you’ve been with these idiots as long as I have, you get used to it.”

Pixal’s eyes widened. “I can’t imagine ever being used to all this.”

Nya smiled. “Did I mention I’m slightly deaf?”

“We finished making the picnic,” Zane told her, holding out the basket he was carrying. “Is everyone ready to go?”

Nya eyed the guys, who were running around the Monastery, barely avoiding tripping over one another. “‘Ready’ is an overstatement.”

“Hold your horses, we’re almost done,” Cole grunted, heaving the large beach bag over to them. “Have a little faith in us, Nya.”

Nya put her hand on her hip, waiting- and a second later, there was a crashing sound followed by an angry chorus of yells from Kai, Lloyd, and Jay.

Cole grimaced, rubbing the back of his head. “Okay, maybe you’re right to not have any faith in us.”

---

After an intense, fifteen-minute argument about what mode of transportation they would take, they ended up deciding on the city bus, and finally, finally got out the door. The bus ride went off without a hitch, for once, (except for a brief panic about not having the proper change for the bus fare, but luckily Zane had a few extra dollars on him), and before Nya knew it, they were staking out an area on Ninjago City beach. She was beginning to think this could actually work out.

Maybe.

“Check out my abs, dude.”

“They’re the same as last time.”

“Are not! I’m way more shredded than last time we went swimming.”

“Okay, that’s just a straight-up lie. I saw you sneak that extra piece of pie last night.”

“You better not be disrespecting my muscles, Flat Stanley.”

“Hey! I’m way more muscly than I used to be.”

“Are you kidding? We call you ‘green bean’ for a reason, and it’s not just because you’re the green ninja. You’re a twig!”

“I’m a twig? Have you seen Jay?”

“Hey, don’t rope me into this, green machine, and, for your information, I weigh a whole fifteen pounds more than you!”

“Yeah, well, you’re also two years older than me!”

“I think the lesson we need to learn here is that neither of you have abs anywhere near as pronounced as mine-”

Zane sighed, rolling his eyes. “Here, guys,” he held out a pouch to the group, “this is a waterproof pouch, you can store all your valuables in here.”

They quickly filled the pouch with phones, watches, and wallets. However, as Lloyd pulled back, he tripped over Jay’s foot, and half the guys collapsed into a pile, groaning.

“Jay! Get your foot out of my face!”

“Right after you get your elbow out of my ribs!”

Nya turned away from them, shaking her head. Glancing at Pixal, she asked, “Wanna help me get set up?”

The nindroid nodded, and they pulled the large picnic blanket out of the bag, unfolding it to lay it across the sand.

“Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon,” Kai cried, “You get back here right this instant!”

Nya looked up from the blanket to see Kai running through the sand after Lloyd, his feet sinking into the sand with each step, making it difficult for him to retain his balance. He waved a bottle of sunscreen at the green ninja. “It’s sunny out today! And you know how easily you burn!”

“No way!” Lloyd whined. “You always make me stay out of the water for at least twenty minutes to let it set, and it’s way too hot for me to wait that long! I wanna go swimming now.”

Kai lunged for him, and Lloyd yelped, barely dodging out of the way.

“Over here, Lloyd!” Jay cried, already wading into the shallows of the ocean. “He won’t follow you into the water!”

Lloyd hurried after him, splashing up water as he went, accidentally splattering Kai and causing the red ninja to flinch back with a yelp. Sure enough, he froze at the water’s edge, glaring at Jay and Lloyd, where they stood, only about ten feet away, laughing at him.

Zane rubbed a hand over his face, sighing. “They’re both going to get skin cancer, aren’t they?”

“At the very least, they’re going to be bright red tomatoes,” Cole laughed. “Oh, it’s going to be a blast when they take showers.”

Zane stared at him, horrified. “Please don’t let Jay do that again. He had the worst blisters, last time-”

Cole held up his hands. “It was a joke, Zane! A joke!”

Zane narrowed his eyes and didn’t reply.

Nya laughed, grabbing Pixal’s hand. “Come on. Wanna go bodyboarding with me?”

Pixal glanced at her. “I don’t know how.”

“That’s fine.” Nya stepped on the board, flipping it up into her hand and handing it to Pixal, before grabbing a second one for herself. “I can teach you!”

“Thanks, Nya.”

As they walked down towards the shore, they passed Kai and Cole, who had finally managed to get Jay and Lloyd out of the water. Cole had his arms locked around Jay, preventing him from running away as Kai slathered sunscreen across his face. Lloyd was sitting in the sand beside him, pouting, his face already smeared in white.

Nya grinned at him. “Can you guys handle yourselves for twenty minutes if Pix and I go out bodyboarding?”

Lloyd stuck his tongue out at her, and Kai rolled his eyes. “We’ll be fine, Nya. I think you’re forgetting we save the city on a regular basis? We’re perfectly capable.”

Nya put a hand near Pixal’s ear, whispering loudly into it. “Betcha anything the beach will be on fire by the time we get back.”

The two ran off, giggling at the sight of Kai’s smoldering glare, before he could set them on fire.

---

To Kai’s credit, he did not set the beach on fire, or anything, for that matter, but when Nya and Pixal returned, they found him and Cole shoveling sand onto Zane, who was chest-deep by this point.

“Zane!” Pixal exclaimed. “Are you alright?”

“When Kai told me he had something fun to show me, this wasn’t quite what I had imagined.”

“Aww, come on Zane!” Kai grinned. “I’m having a great time.”

Pixal shook her head, and stepped forward, grabbing Zane’s hand and pulling him up, sending sand cascading down everywhere. Cole and Kai groaned.

“Aww, come on, Pix, that took forever!” Cole muttered.

“Yeah, we were gonna shape it into a mermaid tail. Don’t you know how funny that would’ve been?”

“Humor is subjective.” Zane rubbed at his wrists. “Augh, now I’m going to have sand in my gears for weeks.” Shooting a glare at Kai, he added, “I’ll remember this the next time you ditch your swimming lessons.”

“Hey!” Kai yelped. “That’s totally different! Sand is warm, and solid, and most importantly, not dangerous!”

“You could suffocate,” Zane pointed out.

Kai scowled. “You’re a nindroid, you wouldn’t have suffocated.”

“You’re related to an elemental master of water. You won’t drown.”

“Being related to a master of water and being a master of water are two very different things! I control fire, not water, I can’t do anything to protect myself.”

Cole rolled his eyes. “You’re so lame. Remind me again why we brought our friend with aquaphobia to the beach?”

“Technically,” Zane said, raising a finger, “the word you’re looking for is thalassophobia. Kai doesn’t fear water in general, only large bodies, such as-”

“It was his idea,” Nya interrupted. “If it weren’t for him, we’d still be at the Monastery, filing papers.”

“I never suggested the beach!” Kai snapped. “That was your idea!”

“Yeah, well, your suggestions were lame. The beach was the obvious choice.”

“Hey,” Pixal interjected, suddenly realizing they were missing a couple of people. “Where are Jay and Lloyd?”

Cole sighed, pointing up towards their stuff, where Jay and Lloyd were struggling with a large, yellow duck inflatable that was very much not inflated at the moment. Jay had his lips around the mouthpiece, his face red.

“Blow harder, Jay,” Lloyd insisted, hovering by his side. “You’re hardly doing anything!”

Jay pulled his head back, breathing out heavily as the redness faded from his cheeks. “I’d like to see you do better! You’d probably pass out after a minute.”

“Would not!” Lloyd snatched the floaty away from him, blowing hard into the mouthpiece, putting even less air into the floaty than Jay had. His face reddened as he huffed desperately, although he still wasn’t making much progress. After a few moments, Jay pulled it away from him.

“Okay, that’s enough. I don’t want you to actually pass out.”

Lloyd glared at him, panting. “I wasn’t… going to… pass out.”

Jay sighed, grabbing the inflatable and staring at what looked to be the eyes and a very flat, crumpled-looking beak. “At this rate, we’re never going to get Mr. Quackington blown up.”

Lloyd’s nose wrinkled. “Mr. Quackington?”

Jay blinked at him. “Yeah, that’s his name.”

“No, it’s not! His name is Mr. Waddles!”

“Mr. Waddles? What kind of juvenile name is that?”

“Oh, like Mr. Quackington is any better!”

“It is! It’s loads better!”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Is so!”

“It’s not!” Lloyd snapped, green energy sparking between his fingers. Jay glanced down at them thoughtfully. “Hey, what if…”

Lloyd was evidently catching on to Jay’s train of thought, his eyes lighting up. “We can use my powers to inflate Mr. Waddles!”

Jay narrowed his eyes. “Quackington.”

Lloyd bared his teeth, the small fangs glinting. “Waddles.”

Jay sighed. “Okay, whatever. We can use your powers to inflate Mr. Waddles.”

Lloyd grinned widely, whether about the promise of getting his inflated duck or having won the name debate with Jay, Pixal couldn’t tell. He held up a hand and formed a basketball-sized sphere of green energy. Jay’s eyes widened, and he held the mouthpiece up to the energy. Lloyd channeled it inside, watching with glee as the duck puffed up, the yellow plastic slowly tinging green, making the duck look like he was about to be sick.

Zane took a step forward, holding his hand out. “Lloyd, wait-”

There was a sharp snapping noise as the floaty popped, and Lloyd and Jay cried out in horror as the yellow pieces of plastic fluttered to the ground. Lloyd fell to his knees, gripping the busted plastic and wailing, and Jay landed next to him, crying, “No! Mr. Waddles, you were so young!”

“I can’t believe he’s really gone,” Lloyd sniffed. “He was my best friend in the whole world.”

Kai threw up his hands. “Great. You spend the last several years of your life looking out for him only to get replaced by his inflatable plastic duck.”

“Oookay,” Nya said, walking over to Jay and Lloyd and ushering them towards the picnic blanket. “Someone’s obviously been out in the sun too long. Go sit under the umbrella and let’s have something to eat.”

“Good idea,” Zane agreed. “I’m sure we’re all getting hungry. Jay, could you grab the picnic basket? It’s right behind you.”

The lightning ninja grabbed the basket, peering inside briefly as he carried it towards them. “I hope you brought the Pringles. I could really go for some of those right now- augh!”

Before anyone could stop him, Jay was falling to the ground, the basket flying out of his hands and landing sideways in the sand.

“Jay!” Kai cried. “Look what you’ve done to our picnic!”

“Hey! That was totally your fault! Why did you leave your shoes right in the middle of the sand, perfectly positioned for someone to trip over?”

“Why were you clumsy enough to get in the way of my shoes?”

“Guys, guys, it’s okay,” Zane assured. Walking over, he carefully lifted the basket out of the sand. “I’m sure it’s still salvageable.”

“Yeah, but now all our food is going to taste like sand,” Lloyd moaned.

“Lloyd, the food barely touched the sand,” Nya pointed out.

“Doesn’t matter. Every time you go to the beach, if the food gets even remotely close to the sand, it always gets sand in it. Every time. It’s one of the great mysteries of the universe.”

“Well, I think you’ll survive,” she said, passing Lloyd a sandwich and a bag of pretzels. Lloyd took them, but narrowed his eyes.

“Brings a whole new meaning to the word ‘sandwich.’”

“Just eat your food, mister.”

Lloyd shot her a glare, but grudgingly obliged. As Pixal bit into her own sandwich, she realized Lloyd was right, she could feel granules of sand between her teeth as she chewed.

“Hey… at least it adds a little crunch, right?” Cole grinned.

Kai grimaced. “Next time, I elect we don’t let Jay anywhere near the picnic basket.”

Jay chucked a grape at him, but Kai turned at the last second, catching it in his mouth. “Ha!” His gleeful expression faded as he caught sight of something behind Jay. “Um, Lloyd, you have someone you wanna introduce us to?”

The group turned to see a seagull had approached them, tilting its head where it stood only a couple feet away from Lloyd. The green ninja was staring at the bird with wide eyes, an awed expression on his face.

“Lloyd,” Nya sighed, “please don’t tell me you fed it.”

“He’s not an it,” Lloyd snapped. “His name is Scully.”

“Great.” Nya rubbed her hands over her face. “We’re already into name territory.”

“Scully?” Kai’s nose wrinkled. “Isn’t that the name of the seagull from The Little Mermaid?”

“No, that’s Scuttle,” Lloyd sniffed. “They’re completely different.”

“Lloyd,” Pixal scolded, reaching for Lloyd’s wrist just as he tossed another chunk of his sandwich at the seagull, “Feeding wildlife is not a good idea, it can be dangerous-”

Lloyd shrieked suddenly as the bird launched itself at Lloyd’s face. He scrambled to his feet, screaming, and Kai lunged forward, pushing the others out of the way. “Move, move!”

“Get it off me, get it off me!” Lloyd shrieked as the bird’s wings flapped in his face, sending feathers everywhere.

“Blast it with your powers!” Kai called, looking worried but keeping a respectable distance.

“I can’t! He’s on my face!”

“Well, I can’t do it, I’ll set you on fire! Nya, you do it!”

“I’m trying, I’m trying,” the water ninja spat through gritted teeth, globes of water already forming in her hands. “I just need to get a clear shot! For the love of… Lloyd, stop moving so much!”

Lloyd hardly seemed to hear her. “He’s going to claw my eyes out,” he wailed, batting weakly at the creature.

“Nya!”

Nya quickly thrust her hands forward, sending a large ball of water at Lloyd’s head, drenching him and the seagull. The bird squawked angrily, falling to the ground.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” Nya and Kai darted over to him, Nya taking his face in her hands as Kai peered over her shoulder. A small red scratch stretched across his left cheek, but apart from that, he appeared unharmed, just frazzled.

“Dude!” Kai cried. “You just got attacked. By a seagull!”

“It owned you!”

Lloyd shot Jay a glare. “Did not.”

“You should have seen your face!” Jay laughed. “Oh wait, you couldn’t- there was a bird in the way!”

Lloyd crossed his arms. “I’d like to remind you how you reacted that time when my uncle set that berserk chicken on us.”

“The chicken had lightning powers. Hardly comparable to a simple seafowl, bud.”

“Ugh, I hope this doesn’t get infected,” Nya muttered, running her finger along the scratch. “We should probably get you checked for rabies when we get home.”

“Nya, I’m fine,” Lloyd groaned, pushing her off. “A seagull isn’t going to give me rabies.”

Nya shrugged. “With your luck, I can never be sure.”

“This is why you don’t give food to wild animals, Lloyd, it makes them bolder-”

“Watch out, Lloyd!” Jay shrieked suddenly, and they whipped around to see the seagull had caught its second wind, squawking as it charged at Lloyd.

Lloyd shrieked, taking off down the beach with the seagull in pursuit. Nya sighed, putting a hand on her head. Kai grinned, walking over to her and putting a hand on her shoulder. “Do you think he’ll learn his lesson?”

“No,” Nya said without hesitation. “Absolutely not. That’s the sad part.”

“Hey,” Cole said, pointing a finger down the beach. “The volleyball court’s just opened up. You guys wanna play?”

“Sure. Tell Lloyd he can join us when he gets that seagull taken care of.”

Nya glanced towards the green ninja, who was currently lobbing balls of energy at the bird and missing by an embarrassingly wide berth. “Looks like it could be a while.”

---

“Great job, team!” Nya cheered, high-fiving Pixal and shooting a grin at Cole. “Although, if I’m being honest, the rest of you didn’t put up much of a competition.”

“Hey, don’t look at me!” Kai snapped. “I was carrying the team! Jay, Lloyd, were you planning on helping me anytime soon?”

“I was trying!” Jay insisted. “But you kept getting in my way!”

“Because every time I let you get the ball, you dropped it!”

“Hey! I never said I was good at volleyball, okay? Why are you attacking me, Lloyd sucked too!”

“It’s not like I ever had time to fit in volleyball practice between all my green ninja training! It wasn’t exactly a top priority!” “Are you telling me you’ve never played before?” Kai spluttered.

“I’ve played!” Lloyd insisted. “Uh… once or twice.”

Kai facepalmed. “Why did I let you come on my team?”

Lloyd grinned widely. “‘Cause you love me.”

Cole elbowed him. “It’s because he lost the coin toss and Nya got to pick first.”

“Hey!” Jay yelped. “Are you telling me you would have picked me last?”

“After I saw you play, yeah,” Cole snorted.

“I’m still not convinced on some of those calls, Zane,” Kai said, walking over to the nindriod. “I don’t think that one play near the third point was a foul.”

“Hey, the ref’s call is law,” Nya smirked. “Stop trying to cheat your way to victory, Kai.”

“I’m not cheating! Zane’s girlfriend is on your team! He’s obviously biased!”

“I’m a nindriod, Kai. I cannot be biased.”

“Stop being a sore loser, Kai.” Behind her, a wave swelled up. She raised her hand- then pointed it forward at Kai.

Her brother shrieked as the seawater drenched him.

“Nya! What’d you do that for?”

“You deserved it, with all the whining you were doing. Besides, you looked hot. I was just doing you a favor.”

“It’s alright,” Lloyd laughed. “You can share my towel, don’t worry.” As he handed Kai the towel, the fire ninja eyed it shrewdly.

“It’s got ducks on it. Of course it does.”

“Hey, you want the towel or not?”

“No, I’m taking the towel.” Kai wrapped the towel around himself, shivering, unfurling the ducks for all to see. Cole snickered, and Kai shot him a glare.

“Should we pack up, then?”

Zane nodded. “If we want to be back in time for dinner, probably.”

The team trudged back to their blanket, wet and sandy, but chatting amiably. They had nearly packed up all their things when Lloyd cried out suddenly.

“Where’s my wallet?”

Zane frowned. “Didn’t you put it in the valuables pouch?”

“I thought I did, but…” he paused. “Oh, wait. I tripped over Jay. I must’ve forgotten to put it in after that.”

“Well, then, it’s gotta be around here somewhere. What color is it, Lloyd?”

“What do you think? Green.”

They spent a good ten minutes searching through their entire bag and the surrounding sand, to no avail. It quickly became clear that if Lloyd’s wallet had ever fallen around here in the first place, it wasn’t here now.

Kai shrugged. “Oh well. It’s not that big of a deal. You don’t have any cards, and I don’t think you were carrying any of the cash. We can get you a new one.”

“No, but I had the things in there!”

Cole frowned. “The things?”

“You know.” Lloyd lowered his voice. “The things. That the mayor gave us?”

“What?!” Jay yelped. “Those were in there?” “You lost them?” Kai cried. “Lloyd, how could you?”

“It’s not like I did it on purpose!” Kai groaned, rubbing his face. “We should’ve never trusted you with them. Or at least split them up, so they weren’t all together.”

“I still do not understand.” Pixal frowned. “What are these things that are so important?”

“They’re a top-secret gift from the mayor,” Jay whispered. “We’re not supposed to tell anyone we have them. Not that telling anyone now would matter anyway, because we don’t have them anymore.”

“It’s not my fault!” Lloyd insisted. “It’s that stupid seagull’s, he’s the one who distracted me-” Lloyd paused, his eyes widening. “That’s it! The seagull must’ve swiped my wallet when it was chasing me!”

“Looks like we have a lead,” Kai growled.

“Wait a minute, does anyone else hear that mysterious music-”

“Oh no,” Pixal muttered, putting a hand on her forehead. “Zane, please don’t tell me you’re going to do this again.”

“It seemed that, after only a few weeks, it was time for me to crack yet another case.” The odd, deep voice rang out, and they turned to see Zane slipping on a fedora.

“Where did that even come from,” Pixal despaired. “I’m positive you didn’t bring that with you. Positive.”

“Again, I was to be accompanied by my trusty assistant, but this time, my highly trained ninja associates would also be coming along, all determined to reclaim what someone had stolen in the heist.”

Jay glanced between Pixal and Zane. “What is happening right now? Am I supposed to know what’s happening?”

Pixal shook her head. “It’s a long story. Just go with it.”

Zane tipped his hat down. “Already, we were off with a very promising lead. I suspected the culprit to be the feathered fiend that had been spotted lurking around at the scene of the crime only an hour prior.”

Kai snorted, placing a hand on Jay’s shoulder. “Oh, this is gold! Did you mess with his voice again, Jay?”

“No, I didn’t touch him! Pixal, you didn’t…”

She shook her head. “Believe me, I wouldn’t do this if you paid me. It was all him.”

Jay grinned. “What do we do next… detective Zane?” He and Kai simultaneously burst into laughter, leaning against each other for support.

Zane side-eyed them. “The primary suspect was as clear as a black bear in a snowstorm, yet the whereabouts of the creature were still unknown. It had vanished into thin air, without leaving so much as a trace in its stead.”

“Hey,” Lloyd said suddenly, leaning down to pick something up off of the sand, “What about this?”

“It appeared to be part of the plumage of a species of avian native to these shores. Could it belong to the specimen we were looking for?”

Kai plucked the feather from Lloyd’s fingers, examining it. “The feather was white with a dark tip, definitely having originated from a seagull- although the spiked, disturbed edges implied that this was from no ordinary gull- it was from one who had recently been in a fight.”

Jay grinned. “It seemed like we had hit the jackpot. Already, we were one step closer to tracking down this culprit.”

Pixal groaned. “Don’t you two start, too. It was bad enough with just Zane.”

Nya grimaced. “Yeah, this is already getting annoying.”

“How is a feather going to tell us where the seagull is now?” Cole asked.

“I could sense the wind was blowing in from the northwest,” Zane narrated. “If we wanted to find the culprit of the caper, we would have to walk upwind, hopefully leading us to the source of the feather.”

“Alright,” Pixal sighed, “let’s get this over with.”

“And so,” Zane grinned, “The Great Gull Caper began.”

The team trudged up the beach for about twenty minutes, to no avail. They passed many other beachgoers, pointing and staring as the ninja passed, but no seagulls were in sight.

“Are you sure about this, Zane?” Pixal asked.

“The feathered suspect had gained an hour’s head start in its escape from the scene, meaning we would have to hasten our pace if we ever hoped to catch up.”

“Oh, I am not walking an hour just to find this thing. Are we sure it’s that important?”

“Yes!” the guys yelped in unison.

“It’s a very important gift from the mayor! It would be rude to lose it,” Jay said. “We have to get it back!”

“Couldn’t you just ask for another… whatever they are?”

“No! They’re one of a kind!” “Well, can we at least hurry this up? Frankly, I’m getting quite tired of Zane’s shenanigans.”

Zane grinned at her. “Although she voiced her disapproval, my assistant knew the efficiency of my methods, as they had gotten us out of a pinch the last time things had been amok.”

“First of all, I was the one who successfully found Dyer last time. You just ended up getting caught.”

“Perhaps, but you used my techniques.”

Pixal huffed. “Second, I don’t appreciate that you keep calling me your assistant. If anything, we’re partners!”

Zane adjusted his fedora. “So it was a promotion she was after, eh? Well, if my assistant could prove her worth by properly complying with my techniques in this case, she may find herself with a loftier position in the future.”

Pixal sighed. “Whatever. Let’s just find the stupid bird, and go.”

The group trekked after Zane again, and Pixal wondered how long they would be here, when Zane suddenly stopped, causing half of the gang to crash into him.

“What?” Jay yelped. “What’s wrong? Why’d we stop?”

Zane pointed near his feet. “It seemed like the culprit had been careless enough to leave behind tracks in the sand.”

Pixal peered over his shoulder. Sure enough, the tracks of some avian species left a trail in the sand- and after consulting her database, it appeared to match the foot of a seagull.

“We’re getting closer!” Cole said. “It has to be around here somewhere.”

Nya’s eyes went wide, and she pointed towards something in the distance. “Look!”

Down the beach, a large group of seagulls was flocking around a half-eaten pretzel, flapping their wings and squawking as they tried to push past each other.

“It could be any of them,” Lloyd despaired. “How are we going to know which one was the one who stole my wallet?”

Jay smirked. “There’s only one way to find out.”

Lloyd eyed him nervously. “How?”

“One seagull, in particular, has come to associate you with food. One seagull has been known to chase you down.”

“Oh,” Lloyd paled, taking a step back and waving his hands. “Oh, no, I do not like where this is heading…”

“Come on, Lloyd, do it for the team,” Cole pleaded.

“You are the one who lost them in the first place,” Kai agreed. “It’s only fair.”

Lloyd groaned. “Why do I let you bully me into these things?”

“Go on,” Nya gave him a gentle shove. “We don’t have all day!”

Sticking his tongue out at her, Lloyd stepped forward, towards the seagulls. Several of them looked his way, a few flapping their wings anxiously and squawking in warning. Lloyd stopped, swallowing.

“Um. Hey. I don’t suppose any of you have seen a green wallet around here?”

Jay rolled his eyes. “They can’t understand you. Get closer!”

“Okay! I’m going, jeez-” he broke off with a yelp as a seagull darted in front of him, nearly tripping him as he stepped on its tail.

The seagull shrieked, and, in a flurry of feathers, the flock broke into a frenzied panic. Lloyd’s eyes widened, and he cried out, running away and frantically ducking swooping seagulls.

He darted behind Kai as a last nervy seagull hopped after him. Kai held up a fist, which burst into flame, scaring the bird off. Kai glanced back at Lloyd, amusement sparkling in his dark eyes. “You okay, bud?”

Lloyd glared. “Don’t look at me like that. These birds are vicious!”

“Look!” Pixal pointed at a gull that had remained behind. With the others out of the way, she could see the small, green wallet between its beak.

“That’s the one!” Cole cried. “After it!”

For ninja, the group was embarrassingly unstealthy as they clamored after the bird, shooting elemental powers at it and screaming as they narrowly avoided each other’s blasts, so that by the time the seagull reached the water, the beach was a mess of crystalized sand, crevices in the ground, and various burn marks from fire, lightning, and energy.

“It’s a seagull!” Nya cried. “We’ve faced giant snakes, lords of darkness, elemental masters, Oni, more criminals and gangsters than I can count, and an evil video game AI, yet we can’t catch one measly seagull? It shouldn’t be this hard, you guys!”

“It’s getting away,” Jay cried, pointing at the bird, who had finally taken flight and was heading out over the ocean.

“No!” Lloyd moaned. “Now we’re never going to get it back!”

“Not on my watch,” Nya growled, racing past them towards the docks. “Come on!” “Oh no,” Kai groaned. “Nya Smith, whatever you are thinking, stop it right now, because I’m not doing it.” “Come on, Kai,” Lloyd insisted, grabbing his wrist and yanking him along. “We have to hurry!”

They raced after Nya, who was running down the dock towards a man who was examining the boats. Kai followed them more slowly, taking careful steps.

“Sir, we need to use a boat, right away! We’ll pay for it, we promise!”

The man shook his head. “Sorry, ma’am, but these are all private boats. The only one we have is that one,” he pointed to a small, worn-looking fishing boat, “and the motor’s broken, so it’s of no use to anyone.”

“It doesn’t matter, I can take care of that. Everyone, get in!”

“W-wait,” the man stuttered, looking flustered.

“We’ll bring it right back, I promise! Now, come on, we don’t have much time!”

“No!” Kai insisted, as everyone else piled in. “Nuh-uh. No way. Not in a million years. You are not bringing me out into the middle of the ocean in a tiny, crowded boat with a busted engine!”

“You don’t need an engine when you’ve got me!” Nya raised her hand, and the water swirled under the boat, rocking it slightly. “Now, come on, we don’t have time for this!” “Y’know what.” Kai took a couple of steps back from the boat. “I’m good. I’ll stay here. You guys have fun finding the wallet. I’ll cheer you on from the beach. The dry, dry beach.”

“Nope.” Cole reached forward, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him in. “This is your gift we’re saving, too. If you want to get part of it, you’re coming with.”

“Finally!” Nya huffed. The water rippled beneath them, and suddenly, it was propelling their boat, and they were off.

“Where’s the bird?” Nya asked. “Does anyone see it?” “Over there!” Cole pointed slightly towards their left, where the seagull was gliding away with surprising speed. Getting into the boat had slowed them down, and it had gotten a large head start.

Nya gritted her teeth. “Hold on.”

“Don’t go faster!” Kai yelped from where he huddled near the middle of the boat, protectively sandwiched between Lloyd and Cole. “If you tip this boat, I will never forgive you.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Nya growled, although the boat slowed slightly as they continued.

“Our team continued to chase the thief, determined to put an end to the Great Gull Caper and put the culprit to justice. Even when our path took us across the raging waters of the ocean, with nothing but a rusty, broken old boat, and deep, swirling waters around us, filled with the dark abyss and the creatures that lurked there…”

“You mean like sharks?” Lloyd perked, peering over the edge. “Did you see any? I wanna see one!”

“Nope,” Kai yelped, pulling himself into a ball as he sat down on the floor of the boat. “Nopety nope nope nope. I’m done. I’m outta here.”

“The prospect of sharks was a dire one, but one we were willing to take. We would get that wallet back, no matter the cost- even if it meant competition from this fierce predator of the sea.”

Kai screamed into his hands. “Just end me now!”

“What Zane means to say,” Pixal said, elbowing Zane sharply, “is that sharks are actually very off-put by the taste of human flesh, and do not go after humans on purpose.”

Kai stared at her. “Oh joy, now a shark can devour my flesh by accident, what a relief.”

“Do not worry, Kai,” she told him. “There is only one estimated death by shark per year in the greater Ninjago City area.”

“Knowing my luck,” Kai grumbled, “I’ll be that one.”

“Did anyone bring their phone with?” Lloyd asked. “I wanna get a good picture when the sharks come for Kai.”

“I call dibs on his katana,” Jay exclaimed. “Y’know, the super flashy one with the flaming dragon carved into the handle?”

Lloyd wrinkled his nose at him. “Why would you want a fire dragon on your katana? You’re the lightning ninja!”

“Hey, just because my element is lightning, doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a super dope fire design when I see one-”

“Guys,” Cole sighed, pushing his way between the two arguing boys. “No one is getting eaten. We’re perfectly safe here, on this boat.”

“Cole’s right,” Pixal agreed. “The sharks around this area are smaller, reef dwellers, and won’t come after us. They may, however, come after our seagull friend if he gets too close to the water.”

Kai made a noise in the back of his throat, and Cole scowled at her. “Thanks for the help, Pix.”

“Nya,” Jay whined, “the seagull’s getting further away! We have to go faster!”

“Don’t!” Pixal cried. “This boat has not been manufactured to withstand a lot of weight. With seven people, especially when two of them are titanium, going too fast would be sure to capsize us.”

“I told you I should’ve stayed behind on the shore,” Kai wailed.

Lloyd leaned further over the edge, raising a hand to his forehead to keep the glare off of his face as he peered intently into the water. “Is… is that a shark?”

Kai stared at him. “Shut up. You’re just baiting.”

Lloyd shook his head, his eyes lighting up in a way that was not reassuring in the slightest. “I’m not! It’s a shark! It’s a real, live shark! I’ve never seen one this close before! Except at like, an aquarium!”

Kai closed his eyes, rocking himself gently. “You’re lying. You stupid liar, I hate you.”

Cole peered over, following Lloyd’s gaze, and promptly bit his lip. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“This is a dumb prank, you guys!” Kai was half-yelling by this point.

“Stop being so loud,” Lloyd hissed. “You’ll scare it!”

Kai blinked at him. “I’ll scare it?”

Lloyd crossed his arms. “A scared shark is an aggressive shark.”

Kai’s mouth snapped shut.

“I can’t believe this,” Cole muttered. “Did we really not bring any weapons?”

“No!” Lloyd yelped. “Cole, you wouldn’t!”

“I would if it kept us from being eaten.”

“For the last time, sharks don’t eat humans!”

Cole ignored him. “Well? Did we?”

Nya snorted. “Why would we bring weapons to the beach?”

“Hey, with how often this city gets attacked, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Nya rolled her eyes. “It was supposed to be our day off.”

“It’s fine,” Pixal reported, keeping a careful eye on the shark. “It’s swimming away now. As long as we leave it alone, we’re safe.”

Kai frowned. “Looks like the gull isn’t so convinced, though.”

Pixal glanced up. Sure enough, the seagull was eyeing the shark nervously, pumping its wings as it flew higher and higher above the surface of the water.

“Do something!” Jay shrieked. “If we don’t stop it now, it’s going to get away for good!”

“Lloyd!” Nya cried. “Is your wallet waterproof?”

“What?”

“Just answer the question!” “Yes! Yes, it is!”

Nya gritted her teeth. “Hold on, everyone!”

Suddenly, a vast wave rose out of the water, looming over the seagull.

Kai’s eyes widened. “Nya, be careful, you’ll hit us too-”

But it was already too late, the wave crashing down, downing the seagull, and soaking them in saltwater. The team cried out, and Kai screamed, throwing his arms over his head in a futile attempt to protect himself. As they all tried to lurch away from the spray, the boat rocked precariously, and, for a horrifying moment, they were suspended there, on the point between balance and capsize.

And then that moment was over, and they were all falling into the ocean.

Pixal’s world immediately dimmed as she plunged into the water, quietness enveloping her like a blanket. For a moment, she was too shocked to do anything, until a foot thrashed past her face, snapping her out of her trance as she swam towards the surface.

A couple of feet before she reached it, a metal hand snatched her wrist and pulled her the rest of the way up.

“Pixal!” Zane cried, his detective voice dropped. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. What about everyone else? Are we all here?”

Zane nodded his head behind her, and she turned to see the others all within a couple of feet. Cole had his hands on the now upside-down boat, trying to use his strength to push it over, but it was hard for him to get a good grip and stay afloat at the same time. Just behind him, Jay was spitting out a mouthful of seawater, sending ripples across the surface of the ocean as he treaded water. Lloyd was doing the same a couple of feet away, only the green ninja was struggling a lot more because of the arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

“Don’t let me go, Lloyd!” Kai yelped, although the feat would’ve been impossible even if Lloyd had wanted to- the fire ninja was clinging to him like a barnacle. “I can’t swim!”

Lloyd sighed. “I know that, Kai. It’s the only reason I’m letting you hold on to me like this.”

“I can’t believe this happened,” Kai cried. “We’re going to die out here. This is the worst day off ever.”

“Hey!” Lloyd snapped. “It’s not my fault this happened!”

Nya shot them all a sharp glare from where she was drifting alongside the boat. She didn’t even bother to tread water like the rest of them, instead using her powers to keep herself afloat. “It was going to work until you guys made such a big fuss about getting a little wet and tipped the boat.”

Cole sighed. “We’re not going to die. As soon as I get this right side up again, we’ll climb up and get out of here. Can you give me a hand, Zane?”

As the nindriod moved to help him, Kai suddenly went rigid.

“Lloyd,” he whispered.

“What, Kai?”

“Something just bumped my foot.”

“It’s probably just seaweed, Kai,” Lloyd sighed, looking down- and promptly froze.

“No one. Move.”

Jay squeezed his eyes shut. “Oh no, oh gosh, don’t tell me that’s what I think it is, this is not happening-”

“Jay, shut up,” Nya whispered, her face pale as she watched the dark shape lurking below them in the water.

“Everyone, stay calm,” Pixal murmured. “Don’t make any sudden movements and try to look it in the eyes.”

“Please, the last thing I’m gonna do is look at it,” Kai breathed, burying his face in Lloyd’s hair.

After a moment, the shark slowly swam past, losing interest.

“It doesn’t care about us,” Zane realized. “It wants the seagull.”

Several yards away, the gull was floating on the water, still trying to shake off the moisture from Nya’s wave. Suddenly realizing the danger it was in, the bird raised its wings- and launched itself into the air, just as fierce jaws snapped against empty air where the seagull had been less than a second ago.

Kai’s fingers dug tighter into Lloyd’s shoulders, and Pixal caught Jay biting his lip as he swallowed back a scream, but, its prey lost, the shark was already swimming away.

“Gotcha,” Nya murmured, reaching a hand out and snatching up the wallet, which the seagull had dropped in all the commotion, before it could sink to the bottom of the ocean.

“Okay. That’s great. We got it. Now can we get out of here?” Kai pleaded.

After a minute, they finally got the boat flipped over, and Cole hauled himself aboard before helping to lift the others. Ten minutes later, they were all safely out of the water and on their way back to the dock, and Pixal had never felt more relieved by the fact.

“So,” Jay asked, as the boat glided through the water, leaning closer to Nya. “Did they survive all that?”

“Let’s see,” Nya murmured, opening up Lloyd’s wallet. Pixal leaned forward, anxious to see what all the fuss had been about.

“Yes!” Jay cried, pulling out seven slips of paper. “They’re all here!”

“Wait.” Pixal snatched one from his hand, quickly scanning it. “A summer pass for free all-you-can-eat ice cream from the Dairy Dragon?”

“Yup,” Jay smiled, passing them out to the others. “The mayor gave them to us as a gift after we saved the city from Prime Empire. That’s what we were going to do today, after the beach, actually.”

“You’re telling me,” Pixal deadpanned. “That we just risked our lives. For free ice cream.”

“Free ice cream is free ice cream, Pix.”

“You’ll understand once you’ve tried their butter pecan,” Nya told her. “It’s to die for.”

“Butter pecan?” Jay spluttered. “No way, the Ninjapolitan is best.”

“You heathen, chocolate fudge is obviously the best flavor-”

“What are you guys talking about, mint chocolate chip is superior!”

“You just like it because it’s green.”

“Do not!”

“Do so!” Nya sighed, putting her head in her hands. “Here we go again.”

“Calm down, all of you,” Pixal said. “You can get whatever flavor of ice cream you want. Just do me a favor and try not to end up capsizing us in the middle of the ocean this time.”

Jay hummed. “No promises.”

[hops-hunny]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow

CHAPTER 1

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: (Y/n) lives a normal life. But that’s the issue, it’s normal, it’s plain, and it’s growing boring. Everyday she wishes for something, anything to spice up her life. But, when her old school friend (and crush) shows up at her bakery with a new look (and what looks like a new life), what will it bring for her? Will their puppy love grow? Will his big secret lead to the end of them or will it spark a new beginning?

Warnings: None for this chapter!

A/N: Nothing major happens in this chapter, this is sorta just like the beginning stages.

(Y/n) let out a load groan, hand searching aimlessly for the alarm clock on her side table. “Where is it?!” she continued to slap her hand around on her table, many objects falling to the floor before her hand finally landed on the right one, the rooster noises ceasing as her hand collided with the big snooze button. She rolled over, sighing as she stared at her speckled ceiling. “Perhaps I really should take the time to learn how to use the alarm on my phone.” it wasn’t that she was bad with technology persay. It’s just if it was produced after the year of 2008 you could forget it. Could you really blame her though? During all her years at Hogwarts, she had never made the switch her fellow classmates made with modern technology. Sure she had a smart phone but the only thing she could manage to do with it is call, text, and make notes in the notes app (something she had just recently learned as well).

Unwillingly, she crawled out of bed, stretching as she let out a large yawn, bones snapping and cracking like a New Year’s firework. She made her way to the bathroom, looking into the same mirror she always did, watching the light in the center flicker the same way as always. Life for (Y/n) was seemingly unchanging. Day after day, month after month, was spent exactly the same. She’d wake up, get ready for work, and then travel a few blocks down the street to open the bakery. Her bakery.

It wasn’t that (Y/n) didn’t enjoy what she did. She happened to enjoy her job very much. All her friends at Hogwart’s had encouraged her, giving her the push she need to travel the journey of opening her own business. It was something she had always wanted to do but her parents begged her not to. In their words they didn’t want ‘an over zealous and unrealistic’ daughter on ther hands. However, their rude words simply were fuel to the fire. During her 5th year, she began to busk tables at various shops in Hogsmeade. It was hard work, balancing long shifts at 3 different shops and still maintaining decent scores in each class. But, she knew if she couldn’t handle that then there was no way she’d be able to handle running a bakery. So day in and day out she’d work, and work, and work and by the end of her 7th year she had a decent amount of money saved up! 

The first issue had been finding a place in a good area that would gain traction and attention while the second one was finding someone willing to sell to someone fresh out of school with no prior business experience. She’d spoken to many people in various different places, some good, and some bad before she finally had been blessed with the chance of meeting Mary and her wife Denise. It was a miracle really. (Y/n) was short on the money, exponentially so however, Mary had sold to her anyways. She said she saw a passion in the girl that she hadn’t seen for a very long time and that it was something she wanted to help foster considering she had had her time to live her dreams and explore passions of her own. So with that, a handshape was exchanged for a beat up envolope filled with the entirety of the girl’s life savings. She had invested every nickel and dime she had ever earned into the place and she prayed it wouldn’t blow up in her face.

Which brought her to where she was today: a proud owner of a highly successful business. And of course, with great business comes a nice chunk of money which caught her parents’ attention. They had began to call her everyday but when that they didn’t work, they showed up at her shop unannounced. At first, she had felt warm inside. Her usual cold and distant parents had come to visit her! However, when they started crunching out numbers and percentages, that short lived happiness was replaced by irritation in which she quickly kicked them out, placing a charm on the building that when they’d attempt to enter (if they really, truly, had the balls to come back), their bodies would be flung right back onto the sidewalk into the heaping piles of trash on the city side walks. Now, (Y/n) was by no means wealthy, but she made a nice amount of money to be engaging in something she enjoyed so heavily, which is why she was confused where they had gotten the idea she had money to share with the main two people who were the cause of her insecurities. Plus, every extra dollar she had she put right back into the shop. Paying her workers, building maintenance, ingredients. She wasn’t a fan of having too much money, her family had shown her what that could cause (and how easily you could lose it all). 

Yet still sometimes she found herself wishing she could live the lavish lifestyle her parents once did. She mainly dreamed more so of the more engaging parts instead of the status and power that came with it. As she frosted various different cakes with thick buttercream, her mind would wonder to vivid imagery of beautiful hotel rooms, with breath taking views. Michelin five star meals, coated in delicious cream sauces. Endless adventure waiting to be discovered.

And yet here she was, sitting at a table as she stuffed her face with a raspberry marzipan cupcake. It was a Wednesday, first one of the month and as per usual, her and Twyla were set together, sampling cakes, chocolates, and other treats for the upcoming days. Wednesday had been the official day  they had chosen due to the slowed flow of people that would come in. (Y/n) liked to have a different theme each day of the week. The customers lived for it and she had massed a group of frequenters who came each day, wondering what the theme would be that day.

“You know boss, I’ve gotta say it. Working here and sampling all these cakes with you is giving me quite the ass!” Twyla said, turning around as she wiggled her ass in the girl’s face for emphasis. (Y/n) giggled, rolling her eyes as she swatted at the girl, missing as she jumped away from her last minute. “Hey! You gotta take me out to dinner first for that.”

“Just because we’re sampling cakes doesn’t mean that the store is closed! Anyone could walk in at any moment and would you really want that to be their first experience here?” she asked, eyes scanning the silver platter in front of them. She decided on the new dessert flavored chocolates she had been working on. Popping it into her mouth, she let out a moan of approval.

“I mean, I dont’ see why not! We’d definitely make a lot more money with a cake like mine!” the blue haired girl said, sitting down as she grabbed a chocolate as well. “Besides, I don’t think those little noises you’re making would help the scene.” she stated, snickering as the girl across from her tensed up.

“It-it’s not like that! The chocolate- it just- I just- ugh!” she stuttered out, huffing as she crossed her arms over her chest, pouting at the girl. “If you’re gonna keep being mean we can end this process. Just tell me what you think of the blueberry pie chocolate so I can know if we’re adding it to tomorrow’s spread.”

“Oh come on (Y/n) it’s good! Every first Wednesday we sit here, you overly critique yourself, then me and Tiana end up picking out our favorites for the next day!” Twyla was right, even their patterns for trying new things remained the same. (Y/n) wiped her messy hand on her aprons, sighing as she stood up to go back to her position behind the counter. Her employee followed, grabbing the platter to put back into the kitchen before joining her boss behind the counter.

“You’re right. I swear everyday is beginning to feel the same.” She opened her notepad, beginning to take inventory of the sweets they had in the display counter. “I’m grateful for everything I have, I really am. But sometimes I just wish I could have something, anything��.”

“New?” the green eyed girl added, catching the (h/c) haired girl’s attention. She nodded, looking at the girl who had snuck a cookie out of the glass case. “I feel ya, girl. Everyday feels the same. Sometimes even when new people come in, I can already tell how they’re going to be. How they’ll act, what they’ll order, what method of payment they’ll use.” (Y/n) eyed the girl up, raising a brow.

“Are you sure you’re not just using legilimens?” she questioned, watching as the girl shifted on her feet, scratching the back of her neck.

“Okay so maybe I do sometimes. But a lot of the times I don’t! Like the other day this weird guy came in and- woah. (Y/n) I don’t wanna freak you out but I have a feeling those hotties in suits across the street are going to be walking in here soon.” Twyla said, in an uncharacteristically quiet tone. The shorter girl followed her friend’s gaze, looking out the glass doors across the street. Three unfamiliar men were crossing over, all in suits that she could only assume cost as much as four months of rent. However, the one in the middle really caught her eye.

Before she knew it, the bell chimed and the three of them made their way in. They looked very out of place in the brightly decorated shop. The one in the middle looked the most important, towering over the other two men. He had dark slicked back hair, an eyebrow piercing, and tattoos that were visible on his neck and hands (which had a few beautiful looking rings on them (none of which were a wedding band…)), yet his hazel eyes held a soft look to them. To his left was a redhead boy, freckles danced all along his face. His eyes were bloodshot from god knows what. He had tattoos as well (not as many as the middle man) and a few unique ear piercings. The guy to the hot tall guy’s right was attractive too but not nearly as serious looking as the other two. In fact, he was humming a song under his breath, a smile causing the tattoo on the right side of his face to crease. 

As she went to open her mouth to greet them, the man in the middle eye’s grew wide, his mouth gaping as he stared at her. He walked closer, examining her face closely which caused her to grow confused.

“I’m...I’m sorry. Do I know you?” she asked.

“(Y/n)?” she gasped at the sound of the familiar voice, her notepad and pen dropping from her hands. She made her way around the counter, staring up at the tall man.

“Neville?!”

NEXT||

TAGSLIST: @vayeya11 @pink-hufflepuff @clancyscookies @beewitchedlou @nevillelongbottomsgirlfriend @redpanda-poetry @vibingaesthetically

[flaminpumpkin]

Happy birthday, Jordan

It wasn’t even 4am when Hal woke up to the gentle green glow of his ring announcing a new message from the Corps. They really couldn’t leave him alone, even on his birthday now, could they? 

He had half a mind to pretend not to notice and go back to sleep. His last mission had been short but exhausting, leaving him completely drained. His dark circles had dark circles at this point, even though he had slept basically all day the day before, waking up only to go to the bathroom and eat half an apple and a toast. 

Unfortunately for him – and fortunately for the Corps – Hal Jordan was a devoted man and an Honor Lantern so he kind of had to. 

With a loud groan, he straightened a bit so he could prop his chin in his hand, not moving from his position on the bed where he was sprawled on his stomach, pillow still half under him. He had been Earth-side for barely two days, if they were expecting from him to look decent, they could fuck right off. 

But when he ordered his ring to open the message, he was greeted by a short and simple: Happy birthday, Hal! Just this. It made him smile (and also breathe a bit more easily, he really didn’t want to go back to space this quickly.) 

Then his ring pinged again and there was a little hologram of his fellow Green Lanterns. He could see Kilowog and Tomar, Jess and Simon. John and Kyle, the younger man grinning like a five year old as he held a notepad with a caricature of Hal drawn on it and come on Kyle, my head is not that big. There was also Guy. Who was… Hal sighed, shaking his head. Guy was harboring a shit eating grin while flipping him off. Typical. 

Before going back to sleep, he sent back a simple thank you note to all of them and then, for good measure, he sent another one to Guy with a hologram of himself flipping the bird. 

He swore he could hear him laugh all the way to earth. That asshole. 

*    *    *

The second time he woke up, around three o’clock in the afternoon, Hal felt a lot less like a zombie. He probably still had a few hours of sleep to catch up on but it was nothing he couldn’t survive without. He had to be up in a couple of hours for monitor duty anyway, so might as well wake up a bit earlier and enjoy some peace before going back to work. 

There was a little cardboard box on his kitchen counter when he emerged from the shower, with a fancy little ribbon and a card. He didn’t even need to open the card to know who it was. 

Firstly, because Carol was the only one, with Barry, who had a spare key to his apartment in case he had an emergency call from the Corps and, secondly, because it just had her name written all over it. He recognized the design on the box being from that fancy French bakery close to her apartment and knew that when he would open it, he’d find a generous slice of their famous lemon meringue pie. 

He ate it in silence with some coffee, responding to the different birthday wishes he had received. Some were from Tom and a bunch of coworkers. There were also several audio messages from his nephew and niece trying to figure out how to work around the feature until their parents probably had had enough and had decided to take family photos instead. Six in total, all of them blurry. But at least Hal could somehow guess what was written on the sign his niece was holding. It made him laugh and he decided to call his brother, just to tease him.

They ended up talking for a while. It felt good, this small bit of normalcy.

*    *    *

Hal was on his way for the monitor room, two cups of coffee in hands, when he heard someone call his name. Ah. He had hoped no one would catch him before monitor duty. He was already on the brink of running late and god knew Batman disliked lateness. But hey, after all it was his birthday. 

“Hal! Hang on!”

He turned around just when Clark arrived at his level. The other man was smiling widely at him, holding a small plate with a cupcake on it in his big hands and looking like an oversized golden retriever puppy.

“Lois made enough cupcakes for an army because she was bored at home yesterday – I’m starting to think that forced leave really wasn’t our boss’ greatest idea but anyway. She told me to bring it here for everyone,” he said before Hal could even ask anything. “There’s a whole plate in the lounge but with Barry around I thought I’d give you one for your birthday before he wolfs them down.”

He snorted at that because, honestly, that was fair. Because of his powers, Barry was basically a walking stomach and everybody knew he had a giant sweet tooth. 

“Thanks, Clark.”

“You’re welcome. And happy birthday!” he said, floating away.

Hal had given up on trying to balance the plate and his two cups in his hands, using a construct instead, when Dinah pounced on him, quickly followed by Oliver and Barry. She was the first one to hug him, kissing his cheek gently.

“Happy birthday, hot stuff.”

“Thanks, Di.”

“Hal, my man! Happy birthday!” Oliver shouted before squishing Hal’s cheek between two big, callous hands, not even waiting for Dinah to be out of his arms.

In retrospect, he should have expected it – it was Oliver after all, the guy didn’t know what “inhibition” meant – but, he couldn’t stop his eyes from going wide as saucers as the blond placed a resounding kiss right on his lips.  

“So? How’s that for a birthday present?” he asked, smug, earning himself an eye roll from both Barry and Dinah. 

“That was my present?”

“Yes. Wonderful isn’t?”

“Truly. I’m delighted. Such a generous present.”

“I’m a generous man.”

“So charitable.”

All eyes turned on Barry.

“Was that sarcasm, Bear?”

The speedster fixed Oliver with a blank stare. He looked even more exasperated than usual, which made Hal snicker. People assumed way too often that Barry was a goody two shoes but Hal had witnessed firsthand how quick witted he really was. “A snarky little shit” Oliver had called him once. And he was right.

“Happy birthday, Harold,” Barry said after a few seconds of silent judgement, opening his arms to embrace Hal.

He returned the hug good heartedly.

“Bear, you can’t wish me happy birthday and then call me Harold. That’s not legal, buddy.”

“Just say thank you.”

Hal simply squeezed him one last time before letting him go, winking at the group as he started to walk down the corridor again.

“Gotta go. Don’t want Bats to be mad at me on my birthday.”

“Like that would bother you!”

“Well yes, actually,” he almost said but he didn’t want to spend the next thirty minutes explaining to Oliver why so he pretended he hadn’t heard.

Truth was, Hal and Bruce were friends. Good friends, even. Recently, the pilot had even caught himself hoping for them to become more than that. They still had disagreements of course, they were both stubborn but they were past that now. Most of the time, it felt more like some weird kind of aggressive flirting than a real fight.

Hal enjoyed the other man’s company, especially now that he was comfortable enough with him to talk about more personal matters, like his family and boy did Bruce had things to say about the weird little clique that was his family. The fond look on his face just made it all the more worth it.

He cherished those hours spent together on the Watchtower, sometimes wishing they could do this outside of their hero work. Maybe he could pretend to need help on the Javelin’s new update to see him. She needed one and the only other person who knew her as well as Hal did was Bruce. He could buy him dinner too. 

Sounds like a plan, he thought, entering the monitor room. 

Bruce was already there, of course. His cowl was pulled back like every time when they were paired up, his hair looking ridiculously good even mussed. The man was always so effortlessly pretty, it was revolting.

“You’re late, Jordan.”

He didn’t even glance in Hal’s direction but it wasn’t like he needed to check that it was him.

“Better late than never, Spooks.”

That earned him a huff and then he saw Bruce slide a cup of coffee towards him on the desk.

Oh.

“It’s probably cold now.”

Lukewarm was probably more accurate – Hal wasn’t that late. But he refrained from mentioning it to the other man, instead grabbing the two still steaming cups from his tray construct and handing his to Bruce. 

“I thought about preparing some too, so lucky us, I guess.”

He smirked at the Bat, oddly proud when Bruce smiled back, even just slightly. 

“Miss Lane’s?” Bruce asked, nodding in direction of his construct while taking a sip of his coffee.

Hal looked back at the still floating, green glowing tray and reached out to retrieve the plate Clark had given him.

“Yep. Wanna share? It was your birthday yesterday after all. And happy belated birthday. By the way.”

It wasn’t lost on Hal that he had completely forgotten to even text him for his birthday but, like he had said, better late than never. He knew it probably hadn’t bothered Bruce, maybe hadn’t even registered with him that Hal hadn’t said anything but it sure did bother the pilot that he had forgotten. Bruce smiled again anyway, something small and secretive. Something just for him to see. Hal could feel an unusual blush creep up his cheeks.

“No, thank you,” Bruce said, turning back towards the screens in front of them, the cup Hal had given him cradled in his gauntleted hands. “Clark actually flew all the way to Gotham yesterday to bring us some. I left it for the kids. Too sweet.”

Hal had to laugh at that.

“Says the guy who takes his coffee with a metric ass load of sugar and cream in it.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

Bruce side-eyed him, half hiding a smirk behind the rim of his cup and Hal laughed again. 

They focused on the monitors after that, a companionable silence between them, and Hal regretted not sleeping those two extra hours earlier. He could feel the bone deep tiredness take over him after a mere half an hour, his body sagging in his chair and relaxing into it despite his best efforts to stay alert. 

He was nodding off, barely even conscious anymore, when he felt Bruce take his cup from his lax fingers.

“Idiot,” he heard him whisper and Hal wanted to retort something but he was too far gone to even form a coherent thought at this point. 

Then he felt fingers graze his forehead, brushing away wild strands of hair, followed by a pair of slightly chapped lips pressing there. He automatically leaned into the gentle touch, sighing long and deep. The lips stayed there a second longer, lingering and warming up his skin, his whole body. 

Hal wanted to wake up, to say something cheeky or, even better, just kiss Bruce. Properly. On the lips. Like he had been longing to do. But all he managed was a weak little whine as he turned his head towards the other man.

“Happy birthday, Jordan,” was the last thing he heard before drifting off completely.

(A few seconds later. Training room. Watchtower.

“Hey, Ollie?”

“What is it, Barry?”

“I think I just saw Bruce kiss Hal.”

“WHAT?!”)

[duskythesomething]

I MAY... HAVE BROUGHT HOME A NEW CHILD..........

this is Snickers Pie the One-eyed Guy! poor lad was so on sale it was ridiculous and i couldn't help it, so Cheesecake Banana Snake gets a new sibling.

[kaistarus]

Enchanted

Chapter 1

Pairing: NishinoyaXReader

Word: 2.2K

Summary: When your best friend enters a relationship with a prince your life changes in ways you never thought possible. You gain new friendships, learn dangerous secrets, and discover that maybe love might exist for you after all...

A/N: This is going to be a longer project and I’m super excited for it!! :) I already have the next several chapters drafted so we’re looking good

Masterlist

Next

“I cannot believe you’re being courted by a literal prince,” you rested your chin on crossed arms, watching the crowd wandering the festival grounds-couples arm-in-arm while admiring the colorful decor hanging from trees and strung across poles, children chiming with laughter as they chased through their parent’s legs, and musicians creating a melodious tune that floated gently above the ruckus. “I have yet to find one decent man, but you get a prince.”

“You’re the one who decided to skip the town’s annual pie judging contest,” Hinata smirked down at you and your glare strengthened.

“Because it’s a stupid event. How was I supposed to know the prince would show up?”

“They were bound to let him out eventually,” Hinata leaned against the counter with a cocky smile and you clenched your fists into the material of your dress.

“I don’t think the prince would have liked you anyway,” Yachi appeared from behind a curtain holding a tray of baked goods, sliding it onto the wooden countertop, “judging by who he chose to spend time with.”

You groaned, planting your forehead onto the wood’s surface. “I’m going to be alone forever.”

“Well, you’re not exactly the kindest to anyone that tries flirting with you…” Yachi raised a dainty brow while transferring cupcakes onto a display.

“That’s because they’re all the worst,” you waved her off. “Anyone my father sets me up with is a snob.”

“I’m impressed you’ve gotten this far,” Hinata commended while overlooking the festival grounds, “that your father has not just married you off already.”

“My mother would never let him,” your nose crinkled at the concept. Regardless how difficult you became you knew that someone would have your back. “You’re lucky, Yachi. You don’t have to worry about this nonsense.”

“I suppose that is true,” Yachi smiled apologetically, holding the tray tightly to her chest and observing her display. There were various pastries-cupcakes, scones, croissants, tarts-lined up and stacked in neat patterns for viewing pleasure. “Does it look okay?

“It looks great,” you grinned.

“Are you sure?” Yachi twisted a few baked goods an unnoticeable amount. “I don’t want to let my family down.”

“They wouldn’t have put you out here if they didn’t think you were ready.” You gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Besides, you have me.”

Hinata chuckled before his eyes widened in panic, hand shooting out to grip yours painfully. You whined, trying to pull him off while following his gaze to figure out what could have possibly caused such a reaction-an amused smile grew when you saw prince Kageyama entering the festival grounds.

“Oh, your prince charming has arrived,” you said with a teasing lilt. Hinata glowered at you to which you childishly stuck your tongue out in response.

“I didn’t know he would be here.”

“He surprised you,” Yachi clasped her hands together. “How romantic.”

Hinata whined in despair and you giggled at his misery, and with all the attention the prince was drawing in you had nearly missed the guard that entered the festival with him. He was dressed very casually, walking a languid pace with his hands clasped behind his head-the only thing giving him away was the weapon sheathed at his hip.

Your expression dropped, “he brought a babysitter.”

“You seriously thought they were going to let the prince walk around unprotected?”

Your shoulders slumped at the familiar condescending voice and you side-eyed the pair approaching Yachi’s family’s booth. You welcomed Yamaguchi’s warm smile any day of the week, but Tsukishima could quite frankly never come near you again and you would die happy.

“I just didn’t notice the guard,” you glared at Tsukishima’s belittling smirk. The guard didn’t exactly look anything quality the royal guard had to offer, you observed after giving him further inspection. He looked more like a last minute grab. “He doesn’t look like much protection anyway.”

“Doesn’t look like-” Yamaguchi looked between you and the guard bewildered. “That is the Guardian Deity.”

You blinked several times before your eyes widened in surprise, locking back to the guy following prince Kageyama at a comfortable pace. That was the highest ranking guard in the royal court? You crinkled your nose after giving him another once-over. After all the tales you had heard you had expected the Guardian Deity to be… bigger? More intimidating for sure.

Honestly, based on appearance, you felt like you could handle him in a fight.

“He doesn’t look very scary,” Yachi said, sounding uncertain.

“Why?” Hinata’s cheeks were puffed up in annoyance. “Is it because he’s short? What are you trying to say?”

“I think it’s more because his hair is so stupid,” Tsukishima snickered.

“I don’t think we should be mocking him,” Yamaguchi said warily, shrinking into his shoulders. “I heard he has insane hearing.”

“That sounds made up, Yams” You crossed your arms.

You glanced back at the guard and stiffened when you made direct eye-contact with him, quickly shooting your stare to your lap. Surely that was just a wild coincidence...

You heard Hinata take a shuddering breath beside you before straightening himself out, “alright, I’m going in. Wish me luck.”

A chorus of encouraging words, aside from Tsukishima, rang behind Hinata as he left the safety of your group. You tapped your fingers against the counter, unable to control your nervous jitters as Hinata noticeably stumbled over his opening lines while prince Kageyama smiled down at him-the guard clearly attempting to hold back a laugh.

The Guardian Deity had a bright smile while introducing himself and Hinata seemed to easily relax in the man’s presence, which further added to your skepticism of his identity. He didn’t fit the grand title at all.

“I guess dating a prince will be harder than we realized,” Yachi pressed a hand against her cheek thoughtfully.

“If anyone can do it Hinata can.” Yamaguchi said, reaching for a pastry before Yachi swatted it.

“It’s still unfortunate he can’t embarrass himself in peace,” you frowned, leaning your cheek in your palm while watching the guard do his best to remain straight face.

“I have an idea,” Tsukishima started with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “How about you go and distract the guard?”

“How about I what?”

“Hey, that’s actually not a bad idea,” Yachi added while she swatted Yamaguchi’s hand after another failed attempt at swiping a muffin.

“Are you guys not listening about how that is the Guardian Deity?” Yamaguchi gestured wildly in his direction. “You can’t just waltz over there and distract him, are you crazy?”

“Oh, so you’re saying I can’t do it?” You narrowed your eyes at him and he blinked.

“That is exactly what I just said. Yes.”

Your cheeks puffed up and you stood from your stool. “Highest ranked guard means nothing. This will be easy.”

“(Y/N) this is such a bad idea,” Yamaguchi pleaded as you walked around the stand, brushing the nonexistent dirt off your dress. “You could get in serious trouble.”

“No, she will be completely fine.” Tsukishima waved you off. “You can do it. I have complete faith in you.”

Everyone paused and slowly turned to stare at Tsukishima. Yachi began waving you back to her nervously.

“On second thought I think Yamaguchi is right. This might be a bad idea.” She frowned.

“Too late,” you sighed, pivoting toward the trio wandering around the festival. “I’ve already made up my mind.”

You marched in their direction with Tsukishima’s off putting words of encouragement echoing behind you and felt your heart pounding stronger the closer you got to the group. Once in range you caught Hinata’s confused stare, shifting between you and the guard before a knowing smile formed. You narrowed your eyes into a ‘you-owe-me’ glare and took a calming breath before standing before the Guardian Deity.

He glanced over, doing a double take once he realized you weren’t walking away. You opened your mouth, freezing up once you realized you had confidently marched over with absolutely no game plan. The Guardian Deity raised an eyebrow at your hesitation.

“Uh… hi.” You lamely stumbled out.

“Hello,” his lips quipped into a quick smirk and you felt yourself die a little inside from embarrassment.

“How is the, uh, night-how is your night going?” You clenched your fists. You needed to get yourself together before you went back a failure and gave Tsukishima an actual reason to make fun of you.

“Good,” he crossed his arms and gave you a once-over.

“Great, that’s great.” You rocked on the balls of your feet. “You always want… good nights that is very important.”

He hummed, glancing over your shoulder. “How’s your night?”

“It is a night… for sure.”

“Great. I’d be worried if it was anything else.” His eyes held a hint of amusement and if you weren’t meant to be distracting him you would be more irritated by it. He bowed slightly. “I’m Nishinoya.”

“Oh, (Y/F/N),” you returned the gesture before raising a brow. “No first name Nishinoya?”

“Unfortunately not.”

You hummed, assuming it was classified for some reason or another-likely rank. You briefly wondered what other secrets he had while subtly peeking at where Hinata had been, smirking when you didn’t see him.

You were better at this distracting thing than you thought.

“If you’re looking for your friend he and the prince snuck off to the woods,” Nishinoya threw a thumb over his shoulder. “They’re probably making out or something.”

Your shoulders stiffened and you slowly met his eyes. “You were watching them?”

“Well, that’s my job,” he glanced over your shoulder again. “Yachi and Yamaguchi look pretty impressed with your distraction skills though. Tsukishima just looks mad, but that is supposedly his default.”

Your mouth opened and closed several times before you furrowed your brow. “How do you know their names? What did you-” You covered your mouth in shock. “Oh my god, could you hear us?”

“Hear you?” He cocked his head to the side confused. “No, I had to do a background check on Hinata so Kageyama could come here.”

“Oh,” you mumbled, feeling your face warming. You knew Yamaguchi was just saying stupid rumors. “Wait, does that mean you already knew my name?”

“No,” he said with a mischievous tone. “Even if I did it’s always better hearing it from the original source.”

You gave him a skeptical once-over. “You seem pretty bad at your job Nishinoya if you’re willingly letting the prince out of sight.” You accused and he blinked a few times before a sly smile filled his face.

“And you seem pretty rude for a Lady,” Nishinoya crossed his arms, “trying to flirt with a high-ranking guard to let your friend sneak off with a prince doesn’t fit your family’s status, does it?”

You puffed up your cheeks in annoyance. “Well, flirting with a Lady and letting the prince sneak off seems unprofessional for a high-ranking guard.”

“Except I worked out an agreement ahead of time with prince Kageyama to let him be alone with Hinata,” Nishinoya gestured toward the forest, “and I’ve been keeping an eye on them this whole time, so I am professional, contrary to your opinion.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but fell short, feeling yourself getting flustered. “So, you just let me try to distract you for no reason?”

“I like you distracting me,” he smiled, wiggling his eyebrows. “You should do it more often. It’s fun.”

You scoffed, “not a chance.”

You pivoted around and began stomping away toward your friends when he called after you, “but we barely made it past introductions.”

“I have a feeling you already know more about me than I’d like,” you shot over your shoulder and by the innocent smile he gave back you knew you were right.

“I’ll see you soon.” He waved.

“Don’t count on it,” you called back, pouting when you heard him cackle before you were out of hearing range.

“I knew you could do it!” Yachi cheered when you plopped back down into the stool beside her.

“Yeah,” you looked away with an awkward chuckle. “I told you it would be easy.”

“I don’t believe it. He probably let her do it or something,” Tsukishima rolled his eyes and you sneered at how accurate he was.

“Was he terrifying?” Yamaguchi leaned over the counter inches from your face. “Did he have super hearing? Could he shoot lightning from his sword? How fast were his reflexes? Did he tell you how he got the blonde streak? Could he-”

You pushed his face back and rolled your eyes, “no, Yams. Those were all just rumors. He’s a normal guy.”

Yamaguchi’s shoulders sagged in disappointment at your unfortunate news. You raised a brow at his pout since you never knew Yamaguchi was such a Guardian Deity fanboy.

Your eyes drifted to Nishinoya leaning lazily against a tree trunk near the entrance of the festival, eyes scouring the event. You supposed if all anyone heard were rumors it would be possible to like him, but in reality he was no different than any other guy you’d talked too-annoying and cocky.

As if he could sense your insulting thoughts his eyes flickered in your direction. You held your breath as you locked eyes with his intense amber stare, expression dropping when he relaxed into a cocky smirk. You stuck your tongue out childishly and turned back to Yachi who was helping a customer choose between a cupcake with pink or orange frosting.

You really hoped Nishinoya was wrong. You didn’t want to see him anytime soon.

[holylulusworld]

Chocolate Chip

Summary: A witch. A spell. A guinea pig.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader; Dean Winchester x Chocolate Chip

Warnings: language, angst, adorable Dean, possessive Dean, I love guinea pigs, so does Dean, fun, fluff

A/N: I had a weird dream after one of my guinea pigs died a few weeks ago. I turned into a gp and Dean took care of me.

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

“SONOFABITCH!” you cry, chasing after the second witch only to feel strange out of the blue. You know the bitch you killed first chanted a spell and that you got hit, but nothing could’ve prepared you for what was about to happen to you. “NO, DEAN!”

“Sweetheart?” Dean gapes at you, eyes widened in surprise or terror – you can’t define his facial reaction right now, too busy to shrink in yourself, feeling your clothes slide off your body until you end up on the ground. “Fuck, Y/N!”

“Dean! Y/N! I got the second witch,” Sam pants, running into the room only to find you in Dean’s hands, well what’s left of you. “A guinea pig? Dean, we don’t have time to play with pets.”

“T-that’s Y/N!” while you look up at Dean, a high-pitched squeal leaves your mouth. You purr rubbing your cheek against his warm hand. “Uh—I think she likes it when I hold her.”

“Wait—What? This can’t be Y/N,” looking at the guinea pig in his brother’s hands Sam furrows his brows. “We don’t have time for bad jokes either, Dean.”

“How shall I name her?” Dean carefully picks your flannel up to wrap you in the warm fabric. “Any suggestions, Sammy?”

“Dean, you can’t give Y/N a new name. We need to find out how the witch turned Y/N,” Sam tuts while his brother carefully presses you to his chest.

“She likes me, look,” while you happily squeak, excited Dean finally gives you the attention you always wanted, Sam sighs deeply. “I will call her Chocolate Chip from now on.”

Looking up at Dean you squeak again, liking the new name. Even though you can’t speak, you want Dean to know you appreciate he cares for you.

“No, you won’t call Y/N like that. Let’s look around the house, maybe I can find a reverse spell or something.”

“She’s so cute. Furry and all,” Dean snickers, but he presses a soft kiss to your head. “We gotta find a way to turn you back into your old self, until then, I’ll take care of you, Chocolate Chip.”

“Okay, we got hay, water, green stuff, and fresh cut grass, Chocolate Chip,” Dean built a compound only for you. It occupies most of the floor in his room, but he doesn’t care. “Look, I got a nice house for you to hide too, sweetheart.”

“Dean, stop talking to Y/N as if she’s a pet,” Sam watches you happily run around the compound, squeaking when you scent the fresh grass Dean cut for you. 

“But she’s so cute,” Dean kneels in front of the compound, watches you chew on the grass. “Can’t I keep her?”

“Y/N is human and guinea pigs live like eight years max! Do you want her to die?” head-snapping toward his brother to meet his gaze Dean tries to push the panic bubbling up back down.

“No, of course not. Lemme just take care of Y/N while you look for a spell,” Dean carefully pats your head, smiling when you purr in response. “Aw, she loves me. Don’t you Chocolate Chip? You love your daddy.”

“That sounded wrong on so many levels,” shuddering Sam looks at you feast on the grass. “I’ll go and check on the next spellbook.”

“That’s my Baby, she purrs like a cat for me, Chocolate Chip,” watching his brother carry you around Sam snickers silently. “Look, there’s Sammy. We like him.”

“Dean, Y/N knows your car and me.”

“You can’t know that Sam. What if the witch stole her memories too?” Dean smirks when you nuzzle in his chest, squeaking when he runs his fingers over your furry back. “Look at my cute little piggie. You can keep on researching while I look for food for her.”

“Maybe we should get her a second guinea pig. I know you should never have only one,” turning around like in slow motion, his eyes narrowed, jaw clenching Dean glares at his brother.

“No other pig will touch my Chocolate Chip! What if you get a guy and he gets her pregnant? We can’t let my girl have their babies!”

“Dean—” laughing Sam looks at you in his brother’s hands. “I didn’t want her to be alone, is all.”

“She’s not alone,” Dean grunts. “Chocolate Chip has me, now take your hands off my guinea pig and find a way to turn her back into a girl…”

“I bet Sammy can turn you back, sweetheart,” looking at you get comfortable on his chest, Dean smiles. “You’ve got a nice nose, Chocolate Chip. I bet you can smell me with it.”

(“Squeak”), lifting your head you try to answer Dean but all you get out is another squeaking sound.

“I get it,” he pats your head, careful to not hurt you. “You can’t understand me right now, but I want you to know that I’ll do anything to protect you. If Sammy can’t find a way to turn you back into a girl, I’ll build you a bigger compound and get you furry friends, promised.”

“Promised?” looking up at Dean you smirk. “I will take you up on that promise, Winchester.”

“Y/N,” Dean gasps, arms immediately wrapping around your body. “Uh—erm,” he clears his throat, tries to not look at you. “You are kinda naked.”

“Yeah, my fur is gone, and you didn’t give me clothes yet, Dean,” pecking his chin you try to purr one last time. “You took good care of me. Thank you, Dean.”

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he swallows thickly, looks down at you one last time before he stretches one arm to reach the abandoned flannel on his bed. “I’ll get you something to wear, Y/N. We don’t want Sammy to spy on you.”

“Aw, you’re still taking good care of me,” you sigh happily, head resting against Dean’s shoulder. “By the way, I understood every word, Dean…”

“Three?” eying the guinea pigs you got for Dean said hunter smirks. “How’d you wanna name them, sweetheart?”

“Uh—the one over there is a guy, but don’t worry,” whispering the male guinea pig got castrated you smirk when Dean sighs deeply. “We don’t want them to get pregnant Dean.”

“Poor guy,” Dean looks at the male pet, shaking his head lightly. “I’ll name you Impala, buddy. I think that’s a great name for a brave pig.”

“What about the girls? We could name one Chocolate Chip?” 

“No, that’s your name, Y/N. I will name one Pie and the other Burger,” you chortle, even snort a little but Dean ignores your outburst while feeding the little pets. “Look, they like my food.”

“Yeah, they like you, Dean,” taking Dean’s hand you squeeze it tightly. “Just like me—”

“I know you like me, sweetheart,” snickering Dean wraps one arm around your shoulders, still watching the guinea pigs. “Me, my food, and that I’ll always take care of you. My sweet little Chocolate Chip…”

SPN Forever Tags

@donnaintx

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@heartislubbingdubbing​

@kitkatd7​

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@lovefromthewinchesters​

@coffeebooksandfandom​

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@simplepastels​

@caffeinefueledfangirl​

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@jessiebean00​

@riathearora​

@the-loml-got-nailed​

@greeneyedblondie44​

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

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags   

@spnfamily-j2​

@supernatural-bellawinchester​

@negans-lucille-tblr​

@deans-baby-momma​

@thefaithfulwriter​

@squirrelnotsam​

@roonyxx​

@underthewrap​

@deansgirl-1968​

@spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​

@butifulsoul125​

@lyinginthegingerlocks​

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@janicho88​

@woodworthti666​

@thevelvetseries​

@dreaminemz​

@akshi8278​

@midnightsilver16830​

@mrspeacem1nusone​

@ria132love​

@caligraphee​

@the-witch-in-silence​

@justanotherwinchester​

@multisuperfandom​

@jadesupernatural​

@psychicforest​

@luciathewinchestergirl​

@magssteenkamp​

@tranquility-or-chaos​

@jxackles​

@michellemxndes​

@addictedtofictionalcharacters​

@impalapark​

@waywardrose13​

@team-free-will-you-idjiot

@myopiamystical​

@rintheemolion​

@bluecornflowers​

@rosalynshields​

@nihilismworld​

@peaches007​ 

@thoughts-and-funnies​

@lyarr24​ 

@givecki

@beabutterfly987​

@deandreamernp​

@quicksilver-x​

[trashytummiez]

Pizza Pals

This is based off of a request from @horriblehooter to have Harley and Killer Croc eating together.  It sounds like a cute idea so I wanted to try it out. 

“And that’s another reason why I love workin’ with ya, Croc!  When I forget my baseball bat during a caper?  You just waltz in’n threaten to eat the bank manager!  Think the guy even peed himself a lil!”  Harley rambled happily at a job well done while skipping through a damp, underground living quarters.  It was dark and eerie, like a serial killers cavern.  It didn’t stop Harley from humming a chipper and off key tune.

That was because the chamber was home to one Killer Croc, who was slowly stomping heavily behind Harley with his thick, scaly arms carrying dozens of duffel bags full of cash.  The giant reptile dropped all of them onto the ground carelessly with a heavy thud then grunted contently.  He scratched at his muscular stomach from under his dirty tanktop when it grumbled loudly.  

“Should’a taken a bite outta the security guard.  I’m starvin’,” Croc growled in his deep beastly voice.

“Yeah, but guys taste yucky!  How do ya feel about pizza?”  Harley asked as if Killer Croc wanting to eat people was as normal as someone talking about the weather.

Croc shrugged.  “Pizza’s cool, I guess.”

“Yaaay!  Pizza Party!!”  Harley cheered which made Croc roll his eyes.

There wasn’t any good reception in Killer Croc’s lair, so the two decided to go order their food in-person.  Croc’s presence alone was enough to ensure the speediest service money could buy.  And money did actually buy the three dozen pizzas hastily cooked at Luigi’s Oven.  After all, it was Harley’s favorite pizza joint in all of Gotham City.  She couldn’t stand the idea of leaving such great chefs high and dry.  Not if she wanted to keep being a frequent customer.  Thankfully, they had quite a bit of spare change to satisfy Luigi and his crew, even if she had to remind Croc not to eat anyone while they were there.

They eventually returned to Croc’s lair and once again, Croc was left carrying every single pizza himself.  Some may have gotten a little messed up during the trip back, but he didn’t mind.  The reptile had an old couch in the middle of his compound which creaked under his enormously heavy frame.  Harley just plopped her butt happily onto the couch next to her huge friend and practically started drooling when she saw so many pizza boxes just staring her in the face.

“Ooooohhhh so much Luigi’s, so little time...” Harley said like she was in a trance.  

Killer Croc also licked his rows and rows of sharp fangs hungrily.  Then he tore a box open and grabbed the entire extra large pizza.  He folded the thing in half like a massive sandwich and shoved the whole thing right into his jaws.  Harley whistled when she watched Croc sloppily chew on an entire pizza and giggled when his scaly cheeks bulged a little.  Then, the reptile gulped heartily and sent that pizza rippling through his gullet.  Croc smacked his chops contently and grabbed another pizza.

Harley was no slouch either.  She cracked open her first box and greedily chomped into that extra cheesy, slightly messy slice of pizza with glee.  She always loved that first warm, gooey bite of Luigi’s pizza.  And even in a damp, underground cavern, today was no exception.  Once that bite slid down her throat, she got to work scarfing the rest of it down and got to work chomping away on more slices.

Croc looked down to see his friend stuffing her face more than any human he’d ever known and grinned.  It was just one of many reasons why he always enjoyed Harley Quinn’s company in ways few villains did.  It helped that she wasn’t getting grossed out by seeing Croc wolf down entire pizzas all at once, just like he was in the middle of doing.  Guess it was to be expected, she’d seen Killer Croc ravage a lot worse than pizza when on jobs together.  When Croc swallowed that second pizza, his neck expanded when that incredibly thick glob of food big enough to satisfy a dozen people pushed down his throat and into his stomach with a slick ripple.  Croc sighed and rubbed his stomach contently.  Because he was so abnormally big, two entire pizzas barely put a dent on his gut.

But by the time Harley was done with her first pizza, her own stomach was looking a little bloated.  She always wore a crop top under her leather costume, and that always showcased the extent her gorging impacted her constantly exposed midsection.  With so many pizzas around her at once, she got a little overwhelmed and eagerly started tearing through her next Italian Pie.  Harley was wolfing down one slice after another, taking impossibly big bites and swallowing sizable mouthfuls of pizza that her slender throat bobbed visibly with each gulp she took.

It was nothing compared to Killer Croc literally downing one entire pizza after another.  He already had a little stack of empty pizza boxes forming near his side of the couch.  And because he ate so many pizzas so quickly, it was starting to have an impact.  Those rock hard scaly abs Killer Croc had were softening into a bit of a scaly beer belly the more Croc stuffed himself.  He was eating so much that his scaly stomach was becoming visible from underneath his tanktop.  But because Croc was a carnivorous reptile, he kept going without slowing down at all.  

Harley kept eating too, even as her own belly grew larger and larger with every slice she horked down.  She was getting so full that her belly was starting to gurgle loud enough that Croc could hear it.  After swallowing another whole pizza, he slurped heavily and looked down at the bloated, petite young woman.  “Gettin’ full there, Quinn?”

Her cheeks were bulging with pizza.  She held up a finger and swallowed heavily, working a big mouthful down her slender throat and past her perky chest.  She leaned back against the couch and rubbed her bulging stomach as it grumbled deeply.  “Ungh, naw, just feels like I need to BUUUUUUUURRRRPPP!!!!”

Harley sat up suddenly when a large burp erupted from her unexpectedly.  Not only that, but she literally burped out the word ‘burp’ itself.

Croc laughed.  “Nice.”

Harley sighed with relief and pat her stomach before giggling.  “Thanks!  I can burp the alphabet too, if ya wanna see.”  She sat up with concentration and subtly gulped down some air, which made her throat bob until she opened her mouth to push the air back up.  “...AYY...b-BEEE......CEEEEE-URRRPP!!  Gah...”

Croc laughed again when Harley burped out the first three letters.  It was a gross but impressive stunt.  Harley huffed then said, “What comes after C again?”

“D fer dumbass,” Croc replied.

Harley pouted then punched Croc’s arm, not wanting to admit it hurt her a lot more than it did him.  “Jerk!  I’ll have ya know I have a Ph-DEEEEEE!!!!”

At that unexpected belch, Croc laughed even harder while Harley smacked her lips and giggled herself.  

She totally meant to do that.

The two continued stuffing their faces with pizza, steadily getting more and more bloated with every slice, or in Killer Croc’s case, every pizza pie.  Harley ate an impressive amount of pizza in such a short outing, but her little pot belly wasn’t so little after a while.  Even Croc’s own belly was getting so big that his shirt couldn’t even cover his scaly stomach anymore, now riding up around his belly button.  And if Harley’s stomach was getting noisy, then Croc’s bloated gut was twice as loud the way it intensely churned and bubbled from so much greasy pizza eaten all at once.  Like Harley, Killer Croc occasionally burped to ease some of the pressure in his gut; his being much louder than Harley’s, but with how much he was eating, it wasn’t doing a lot of good quieting his stomach down.

By the time they were done, both Harley and Croc were lazily slumped back against the couch, sporting enormously round bellies.  Harley looked as if she were almost pregnant with how utterly full of pizza she was.  And Killer Croc looked as if he had swallowed a giant medicine ball.  Their bellies gurgled and churned intensely, Croc’s stomach far more so than Harley’s.

“Unnngh, m’so full...” Harley groaned wearily while she rubbed her achingly bloated belly all over.

Killer Croc let out a huge burp that echoed all throughout the underground then sighed as he patted his belly.  “Guh, yer tellin’ me.  I ain’t been this full since that job we did at Falcone’s construction site.”

Harley couldn’t help but let out a massive, incredibly unladylike burp of her own that didn’t come close to Croc’s, but would’ve easily won any contests against normal humans.  She sighed with relief and patted her own round belly then hiccuped when the contents in her stomach sloshed from the pat.  “Oooh, needed that,” Harley moaned then grinned lazily back at Croc with a nod.  “I remember that one.  Ya ate the foreman, didn’tcha?”

Croc belched deeply again and nodded.  “Yup.  He was a fat one too.  Butterball took forever to digest properly.”

“Well, yer a growin’ lizard, ya need the calories!”

Killer Croc gave Harley a bored look then rolled his reptilian eyes.  “Least ya ain’t callin’ me a gator.”

He reached down and fumbled with his belt, but it was a little hard with his enormously round belly getting in the way.  But he eventually managed it and unbuckled the belt to his old pants.  As soon as he did, his engorged stomach expanded even more which made Croc slump back and moan heavily.  

“OoooooooOOOOooooh man, that’s better...” Killer Croc moaned in a near-daze.

“Smart thinkin’!”  Harley said, fumbling with her own leather pants.  She leaned back while her big belly stuck out even more, like a child fumbling to tie their shoelaces.  It was actually funny to watch her struggle, making Killer Croc snicker a little childishly at her efforts.  He was about to offer to help after a while, but she just barely managed to pull it off.

Like Croc, the second her belt and pants button were undone, her immensely bloated stomach expanded to fill the space, unzipping her pants in the process.  Harley went cross-eyed and groaned blissfully when she spilled into the couch with dazed relief.

“Holy crap, that’s like Christmas and Hanukkah got busy’n had a Holiday Baby...”

Both villains eased with relief, weighed down by their bloated guts.  And in unison, both Harley Quinn and Killer Croc threw their heads back and let out a pair of giant burps at the exact same time, with Croc’s easily dwarfing Harley’s and carrying on for even longer after hers ended.  Then they sighed heartily.

“Oooohhh Mama Mia...if Red could see me now...” Harley moaned, slowly running her hands up and down her rounded belly.  Croc raised a scaly brow and turned to his friend intrigued while massaging his own bloated belly lazily.  Harley giggled wearily and explained.  “She loves seein’ me get all super duper stuffed’n burpy, feeds me a bunch all the time.  I don’t mind though.  I love food and I love all the attention she gives my tummy.”

Croc snorted.  “Kinky weirdos.”

“Hey!  No kinkshamin’, ya big fat jerk!”  Harley replied, punching Croc right in his belly, which, yet again, hurt like hell, since he ate so much that it felt like punching solid rock.  But it was hard enough to make Croc burp loudly again in response.  

Croc smacked his lips afterwards and shrugged.  “So, how’re things goin’ fer you’n Ivy anyway?”

“They’ve been good!  She’s always been a buncha fun t’hang out with, she’s got great taste in TV shows and she’s just so honest.  Not like Mister Jay at all.  What’cha see with Red is what’cha get,” Harley explained with a fondness in her voice.

Killer Croc grinned when he saw how content she seemed to be with her new girlfriend.  He may have been a carnivorous reptilian monster, but when it came to his friends, he always wanted whatever was best for them; whatever made them genuinely happy.

Harley perked up and nudged Croc.  “Ooh!  How’ve things with blubber butt been goin’?”

Croc’s smile dropped instantly.  “A; only I get to call her that.  And B; they’re...they’re alright.”  The giant scaly monster looked away almost timidly as he scratched his bulging gut.  “Ain’t used to havin’ a girlfriend, but...she gets me.”

Harley beamed and hugged Croc’s arm.  “Eeeeeey!  That means we get to double date sometime!!”

Croc snorted.  “Quinn, between you, me’n Orca, if we ever went to a restaurant, someone might literally die tryin’ to make all that food.”

“Maybe he was a jerk!  And that way, you can eat him after fer dessert!”

Croc laughed and licked his lips.  “I knew there was a reason we were friends...”

[tsunderedoctor]

hiii,

I would like to ask for a ficlet with Sabo and female s/o. Modern AU, Sabo is studying law and his s/o is studying to become a teacher. After a few weeks official dating, obviously they met at the library studying and ... (Feel free to decide how it continued), he invited her to meet his brothers Ace and Luffy. They invited her... Somehow she ends up cooking before they set the whole kitchen in fire. Some fun talk. Fluffy.

Thank you so much!(◍•ᴗ•◍)💛

Ps: I really love your work!

I love me some ASL Bros! ❤️❤️

Fluff down below!

Word Count: 1k+

It was their first study date and ____ wanted to look her best. She knew Sabo didn't care how she looked, but she still couldn't help but want to surprise him in something cute. Making sure she had all her textbooks and materials she made her way to their university's library. Upon arriving she saw the blond waiting patiently on his phone, she smiled and tapped his shoulder lightly breaking him out of his world.

"Hey you made it!" He smiled brightly at ____ and finished his text before putting his phone in his back pocket. As they made their way inside the building Sabo looked around for an empty table and found one on the far right corner next to a window. "Wanna sit there?"

Seeing where he pointed to ____ nodded and headed over, dropping off her parcel bag as she made herself comfortable. Sabo got his laptop out and sat next to her. "I might be going to school for law, but I could still totally help you if you need it."

____ smiled at his kind words and shook her head. "You got your own full plate buddy, don't be taking more than you can eat."

Laughing at her advice, Sabo nodded before getting ready to take his practice test.

After a few minutes; Sabo's phone began to vibrate. Looking at it the blond sighed before answering. ____ smiled, having an idea on who the senders were. Sabo had two brothers who liked to stay in touch over the years, one was in high school finishing his last year and the other was the same age as Sabo, but decided school wasn't meant for him. She only saw photos he showed her, but she knew the three boys were close. "They wishing you luck?"

Sabo rolled his eyes at her ability to know who it was. He smiled softly as put the phone down. "Not exactly, they are demanding I introduce you guys."

Hearing that took ____ aback, they wanted to meet her?! She looked down at her textbook as she thought what that would be like, would they like her? Accept her in their family?

Seeing her look a bit unsure, Sabo placed his hand on her shoulder. "Hey don't worry about it, if you aren't ready I'll tell them to mind their business."

____ smiled at his words, but shook her head. "No I wanna meet them, who knows maybe they can tell me embarrassing stories about you~"

Sabo laughed and shrugged. "Only if I can tell embarrassing stories about them too."

...

They agreed to meet up at Ace's apartment he shares with Luffy on Saturday. Sabo was going to pick her up and the two would head over around 6:00. Ace stated he would cook, but upon hearing that Sabo suggested they bring something as well, just in case if the pyromaniac got too happy with the cooking. ____ wasn't sure anymore if she wanted to try his cooking after hearing that-

The two arrived and Sabo carried an apple pie while ____ brought some sodas. Ringing the doorbell, Sabo held ____ in a reassuring grip reminding her it was going to be okay.

Opening the door ____ was meant with the youngest brother, Luffy. She smiled as he stared at them with a wide grin. "Yay you brought food! I thought I was gonna starve to death!"

"Shut up Luffy!"

____ figured that must be Ace as the two were allowed in and sat their things on the four seater dining table. The apartment was cozy and she could tell two guys definitely lived her, but it was still nice and had this welcoming vibe to it. "Is there anything you need help with Ace?"

Ace turned to face ____ and smiled brightly. "Nah these two are just being overdramatic!"

"Oi, Ace you better quit yapping and pay attention, you're gonna burn my meat." Luffy huffed annoyed as Ace turned back around to check on the meat.

Sabo told Luffy to show him where the dishware was and ushered the boy to get the silverware as the two set to getting the table together. ____ headed over and looked around what Ace was cooking. "I'll cut the vegetables if you would like."

Ace smiled at her kindness and nodded. "Yeah sure, the damn onions always make my eyes water and Luffy thinks I'm crying, stupid brat never lets it go."

____ laughed and began to get to work helping the brunet add the spices and vegetables into the meat. By the time the other two males finished the vegetables were almost done.

Surprisingly the food ended up well and Ace looked triumphed at the success. "You're not so bad ____, don't let Sabo find out you can cook good or he will be begging for you to cook all the time!"

Sabo snickered and smacked the brunet's head. "I would only beg because it would taste different than your burnt food."

Grumbling at his quick remark Ace walked to the table and placed the food in the center. "Serve yourselves before Luffy gets it all."

The others came and set, ____ smiled as Luffy began huffing down the food. "This is great ____!"

"Oi talk with no food in your mouth heathen, you act like we haven't taught your ass manners."

Luffy took a large drink of his soda before talking again. "Oh right, I just got so excited I couldn't help it.!"

Dinner went well in ____ opinion. Since Ace and ____ cooked Sabo and Luffy cleaned up and did the dishes. As the brunet and the young woman sat in the living room looking for a movie to play, the brunet eyed her before speaking.

"You're good for him, just promise me you won't hurt him okay? I don't think he can handle another heartbreak."

Hearing this made ____ remember when Sabo expressed his want for being a lawyer; to prevent child abuse and neglect. He was mistreated by his parents and it broke the boy and caused lots of insecurities growing up. She turned to face Ace with a look of seriousness and softness he couldn't describe. "I promise, the last thing I want to do is hurt Sabo."

Ace smiled believing her words and turned back to the t.v. "Sure, how about this one? Heard this was a popular anime back in Japan, some pirate show."

"Yeah, sounds good to me."