#that good ol standard

[arcenciel-par-une-larme]

Trying to argue with Zutarians is like trying to debate eschatology with a customer service bot.

[queenrepent]

title card for a pliot of a hypothetical weird al cartoon

he's gone back to his underground cave for another round at entertaining the masses, but there's one big problem - there's a LOT of things poor ol' Al left behind. will he get everything cleaned up before trash day ends, or will he be stuck in clutter forever?

[thedeafprophet]

People being surprised how young Viola is is amusing to me in part because I said so in her intro post,,,, but also yes this is why everyone else babies here

[spotaus]

Pt 29!

[duckapus]

The Machinations of Mr. L

In his current lair, somewhere beneath the Mushroom Kingdom, Mr. L is hard at work on his main computer. Scattered on the floor around him are empty Shroom Shake cans, showing he’s been at it for a while, and on the desk to his left sits the Admin-proof simulator headset One Shot Wren had used on Domain, hooked up to the computer.

He’d already gleaned all he could of its general properties, and was already in the process of upgrading his own equipment with what he’d learned, so for now he has a different goal in mind…

He pauses his typing when a new window opens and grins at what he sees, “There you are. Alright Thunder, head in the game. Don’t get greedy.”

You see, due to just how long everyone had been trapped in Wren’s simulation, the hologram trio had left behind some trace amounts of energy. And since their energy, like everything else about them, was made up of their code, Mr. L had theorized that he could use that and the headset’s anti-Admin properties to form an untraceable connection between his computer and Domain, a theory that had just been proven true.

Now, a Junior villain would have immediately used that connection to start messing with his head in some sort of elaborate scheme, which would no doubt be useful and satisfying in the short term but inevitably -and rather quickly- get them caught and thrown in whatever dark, forgotten hole his family could find. Mr. L, however, is no Junior, and has no intention of interfering with Domain’s functions in any way.

No, what he’s after is a source of information, and he knows just how to get it.

“Here we are, Chat Logs!”

An excellent choice really, as not only did the Admins rightfully assume the channel was secure (and thus would be less likely to obscure their messages), but it was also tied to Domain’s command box rather than him directly, so he wouldn’t feel L’s prodding if something went wrong with the Admin-proofing.

He opens the file, finding that the entries are sorted into helpfully labeled groups…and span back as far as he’s been an Admin, “Heh, loves organization and can’t throw anything away. He really is 3’s dad.”

He picks an entry in one of the “Work” sections at random and starts reading, making a mental note to set something up so Brobot could check the Forum-related personal entries for anything relevant. He was not going to look through years' worth of those two acting lovey-dovey by himself just to see if there was something useful.

[bronzefuryfic]

ok maybe no Daemon progress tonight we’re taking a little Aemond/Aegon/Helaena detour

"I need a drink," Rhae manages to grumble.  "Right," says Aegon, handing her his cup.  "Aegon..." Rhae turns it over, a few drops of wine dripping onto the ground. Aemond snorts.  "Right." Aegon strides off, searching for a servant. 

[fisheito]

funf act: when u look thru binoculars u are not in fact supposed to see this:

[goodoldbandit]

Mastering Motorcycle Front Forks: Standard, Adjustable, and Electronically Controlled Forks Explained

When it comes to motorcycle performance and ride comfort, your front fork system plays a pivotal role. Whether you’re a beginner rider, an enthusiast looking to fine-tune your ride or a tech-savvy speedster chasing the latest innovations, understanding the differences between standard, adjustable, and electronically controlled forks is essential. Each type brings its own set of advantages—from…

[actual-nobody]

I don’t think this would change any of y’all’s opinions but I don’t have a Xitter yet.

[yuu-kantokusei]

Happy birthday, dear Prefect! 🎉✨️

POV: Twst characters (NRC, Grim, Rollo, Che'nya, Neige, Fellow/Ernesto, Skully, STAFF) wishing you a very wonderful "Happy birthday!"

PS: when it's your birthday, come here and let your favourite character to wish you fantastic wishes~

A/N: today is my birthday, so I decided to celebrate with my favourite boys because i love them so much and I wish them to be real

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts

“Happy birthday, Prefect. As per Rule #256 of the Heartslabyul Dorm, any individual celebrating a birthday must be properly honored with respect and festivity. I personally ensured today's preparations met the highest standards. I trust you'll enjoy the tea party we've arranged. Have a splendid day—you’ve earned it.”

Ace Trappola

“Heeey, Prefect! Happy birthday! Look, I didn’t even mess up the gift this time. Bet you’re surprised, huh? Anyway, let’s ditch the formal stuff and just have fun today. No weird rules or lectures from Riddle—just vibes!”

Deuce Spade

"Uh, Prefect! Happy birthday! I hope you like my gift. I wasn't sure what to get, so I asked Trey for help. Anyway, I promise to do my best to make today stress-free. You deserve it!”

Cater Diamond

"Prefect~! Smile for the Magicam! Gotta capture this special day, right? Happy birthday! Don't worry, I'll make sure today is totally picture-perfect. I even curated a playlist just for you!"

Trey Clover

“Happy birthday, Prefect. I baked a cake—your favorite flavor, I hope. If not, we can always make another one. Birthdays are meant for indulgence, after all.”

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar

“Tch, birthdays are such a hassle... But since it’s your day, I guess I’ll play along. Don’t expect me to sing or anything, though. Anyway, happy birthday, herbivore. Do whatever makes you happy.”

Ruggie Bucchi

“Heeey, Prefect! Happy birthday! You better eat up—no wasting food, okay? Oh, and if you need a hand carrying all your presents, I gotcha. For a small fee, of course!”

Jack Howl

“Happy birthday, Prefect. I don’t usually get involved in celebrations, but today’s special for you, so I’m in. If anyone messes with your day, just say the word—I’ll handle it.”

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto

“Ah, Prefect, our esteemed guest of honor. Happy birthday. Consider today an exception—no contracts, no negotiations. Just a day for you to enjoy yourself, courtesy of Mostro Lounge. Don't forget to savor the special limited-edition menu I curated for your celebration.”

Jade Leech

“Happy birthday, Prefect. What a delightful occasion. I trust today will be filled with pleasant surprises—some orchestrated by me, of course. Enjoy every moment.”

Floyd Leech

“Shrimpy-chaaan! Happy birthday! Let’s ditch all the boring stuff and do something fun! Oh, oh—what do you say to a wrestling match? I’ll go easy on ya since it’s your big day.”

Scarabia

Kalim Al-Asim

“Prefect! Happy birthday, my best friend! I’ve got a huge party planned—there’s music, dancing, and tons of food! I hope it’s the best birthday you’ve ever had. Come on, let’s go celebrate!”

Jamil Viper

“Happy birthday, Yuu. Don’t worry—I made sure Kalim didn’t go too overboard this time. I personally cooked the dishes for today, so I hope you enjoy them. Relax and have a good time.”

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit

“Ah, Prefect. How fortunate you are to celebrate your birthday in the presence of true beauty. I trust you’ll take extra care to look your best today—after all, every moment should be picture-worthy. Happy birthday.”

Rook Hunt

“Bonne fête, mon cher Trickster! Such radiance, such elegance on this special day! Ah, how splendid it is to witness your growth. I shall ensure every moment of today is worthy of poetry.”

Epel Felmier

“Hey, happy birthday, Prefect! Let’s make today wild, okay? None of that fancy frou-frou stuff Vil’s always talking about. Just good ol' fun!”

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud

“Ugh, social events... But, uh, since it’s your birthday, I guess I can make an exception. Happy birthday, Prefect. I even logged off my game for this—you're welcome.”

Ortho Shroud

“Happy birthday, Prefect! I calculated exactly 112 different activities to make today perfect. Let’s start with your favourite treats and work our way up to the surprise!”

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia

“Ah, Child of man, it is your birthday today? How wonderful. A most sacred occasion indeed. I have brought you a gift—something rare and precious from Briar Valley. May this day be as unforgettable as your presence in my life.”

Lilia Vanrouge

“Happy birthday, Prefect! I’m so excited to celebrate with you. I’ve prepared a special meal—don’t be shy, have a bite! Hmm? Why do you look so hesitant?”

Sebek Zigvolt

“HUMAN! I—er, Happy Birthday! The young master himself has taken time to acknowledge your day, so you must be grateful! …But, truly, I hope it’s a fantastic day for you.”

Silver

“Happy birthday, Prefect. I hope your day is peaceful and filled with joy... Though I may fall asleep halfway through the celebration. Still, I wish you the best.”

~BONUS~

Grim

“Nyahahaha! Prefect, aren’t ya glad I’m the first one to say it? Happy birthday, minion! Let’s celebrate by eating lots of tuna and cake—and by cake, I mean MY share too!”

Rollo Flamme

“Though I normally detest such frivolities, I suppose it would be rude not to extend my regards... Happy birthday, Prefect. May this year bring you wisdom—and better taste in associates.”

Che'nya

“Heehee~ Happy birthday, Prefect! You look extra cute today! Or maybe it’s just me? Hmm, guess we’ll never know! Let’s see if I can pop by your celebration later... or disappear midway, who knows?”

Neige LeBlanche

“Oh my goodness, Prefect! Happy birthday! I hope today is filled with joy, laughter, and love! You deserve to be treated like royalty—just like a fairytale ending.”

Skully J. Graves

"Happy birthday, lovely Prefect. Life’s a journey, full of twists and turns, but you’ve got the guts to handle it. Keep walking your path with that steady resolve of yours and if you ever need a hand or some guidance, I’m around. Have a good one, yeah?”

Fellow Honest

“Heh, well now, sugarcube, happy birthday! I reckon you’ve been through a lot, so how ‘bout a deal to sweeten up the day? Only good surprises, I promise... this time.”

Dire Crowley

“Ah, my precious and most beloved magicless student! Happy birthday! As your humble headmaster, I insist that you accept this fabulous celebration I orchestrated personally—well, mostly! All for you!”

Divus Crewel

“Happy birthday, pup. I expect you to carry yourself with even more flair and refinement as you age. And don’t you dare let those unruly brats ruin your look today.”

Mozus Trein

“Ah, Prefect. Happy birthday. Remember, age brings wisdom—but only to those who study diligently. Now, do enjoy yourself.”

Ashton Vargas

“Happy birthday! Strength and stamina are key to a fulfilling life—so drop and give me twenty! Just kidding. Enjoy your special day, champ!”

Sam

“Hey, hey~ Happy birthday, my little imp! I’ve got just the thing for your special day—come by the shop later for a surprise on the house!”

[nevereclipse]

father figure

Pairing: Platonic!Tim Bradford x femme!rookie!reader

Requested Y/N: no this came from my own brain !!

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Use of y/n, yelling (standard TO Bradford style), domestic violence from a police perspective, light verbal sexual harrassment, mentioned vomitting, mentioned anxiety/nervousness, panic attacks, referenced/discussed past child abuse (emotional, with vague mentions of physical). Tim being a big ole softie (eventually).

Words: 5k+

Summary: How you went from being Tim Bradfords boot, to his unofficial kid.

this one got away from me a lot and has not been proofread!😭 enjoy! feedback is fuel.

----

“Officer Y/l/n, you’re assigned to Sergeant Bradford.” Sergeant Grey was standing at the front of roll call, having just asked you to introduce yourself to your new coworkers. It was your first day as a rookie at Mid-Wilshire, and your stomach was alive with nerves.

“Yes, sir.” You responded, sitting back in your chair.

“Alright everyone, you’re dismissed,” Grey continued, “Stay safe out there.”

Immediately, Sergeant Bradford was out of his seat and walking towards you, his face stony. You’d been warned about him by a… Officer Chen? You couldn’t really remember her name. Still, she’d warned you about his ‘Tim Tests’ and gruff demeanour. It wasn’t helping your nerves.

“Boot! Let’s go.” Bradford snapped, gesturing you over with a flick of two fingers. You smoothed your uniform and walked over. You forced a smile onto your face, wanting to make a good impression.

“Sir, I’m-,” you started.

“Save it, boot.” Sergeant Bradford cut you off. “You will address me as only Bradford, Sergeant Bradford or Sir. Is that understood?”

You nodded, the nerves settling comfortably in your stomach. Bradford was clearly not planning to calm your worries. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Go grab the warbags and meet me at the shop.” Bradford nodded his head vaguely in the direction of the supply room, and you hurried off to prepare the war bags. The last thing you needed was to make a bad impression on someone who was already making you nervous.

---

Tim watched you hurriedly walk to the war room to set up. As he watched you go, Angela Lopez approached.

“So, what do you think of the new blood?” Lopez asked, gesturing (albeit unnecessarily) behind you.

“Too soon to say.” Tim replied, crossing his arms as he turned to Angela.

“Come on, Bradford, you always know right away.” Angela pushed, nudging Tim’s side.

Tim couldn’t deny that. He had a knack for knowing whether someone would be a good fit for policework – it was why he was an excellent TO.

Still, he paused, considering. “She’s… eager.” He hedged. It was true, to a degree. You did seem eager. But he could tell there was something more bubbling under the surface.

“Uh huh.” Lopez grinned, “Don’t be a total dick today, yeah?”

Tim glanced over his shoulder just as you walked out of the storeroom carrying the war bags. “No promises.”

---

Office Chen had been right. Sergeant Bradford was extremely intimidating. You’d graduated third at the Academy, and you knew you were good (well, competent at least), but some part of you was still constantly second guessing. Maybe it was Bradford’s height and build, or his permanently pissed off energy but an hour into your shift and you were scared. Not of him (not really), but of what’d happen when you inevitably screwed up. You’d tried to chat initially, but it hadn’t gone down well.

“So. Why do you want to be a cop?” Bradford asked as he pulled off West Olympic.

After an hour of near-silence, since Bradford had firmly proclaimed that the shop was a personal-life-free zone, the question surprised you. “Is that a trick question?”

“No. If I’m going to train you, I need to know why you’re in this car.” Bradford didn’t even look at you as he drove, instead scanning the streets around you.

You looked out your window for a moment. It wasn’t exactly an easy question to answer. Not without revealing way more about yourself then you wanted to on your first shift. Then you wanted too ever, really.  “Um.” You swallowed. “I know it’s… basic, but I want to help people.” You hedged. “People who don’t have anyone else to-.”

The shop screeched to a halt, and you were suddenly cut off by Bradford yelling: “I’VE BEEN SHOT! WHERE ARE YOU, BOOT?”

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck- you didn’t know. “Um…” You looked around, trying desperately to find a street sign, or some clue as to where you were. After a few more seconds, you heard Bradford scoff.

“Now I’m dead. It’s your fault.” He didn’t even look mad. Just completed blank. That was almost more nerve racking.

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” You started, hating the way your voice shook.

“Not good enough, Boot!” Tim’s voice was loud and sharp, cutting through the silence of the shop. “Apologies don’t save lives, rookie. Get out.”

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

“I said get out and walk, boot. You can get back in when you know where you are.”

In that moment, you knew you’d ruined it. This had been your chance to be a cop, and less than two hours in, you’d already fucked it up. You got out of the shop, walking along side it. Hoping Bradford didn’t notice how your legs had shaken as you left. You wouldn’t let yourself be upset by this. Bradford was just doing his job, you were perfectly safe. From him, anyway.

Still, when you finally got back in the shop, you didn’t talk again. All your focus went towards scanning your surroundings.

---

Your legs had shaken when you got out of the car. It was subtle, but Tim had noticed it. Unbidden, a touch of guilt settled in his stomach. He honestly hadn’t meant to frighten you. It was just a Tim Test – he didn’t need (nor want) you to be scared. It was hardly conducive to training a good rookie.

What bothered him most, though, is your complete silence the rest of the day. You’d been annoying chatty the first twenty odd minutes of your shift (until Tim had, in traditional Bradford fashion, banned any sort of personal talk), but since getting back in the car, you’d stuck strictly to ‘yes, sir’s and ‘no, sir’s. It had been… unnerving.

Tim didn’t like changing his training style. After all, after half a dozen rookies, he liked to think that he’d perfected his TO methods. Everyone knew that he was an exceptional training officer. The only people he ever made exceptions for were veterans like him. But the thought of scaring you every time he yelled made his stomach drop in an unpleasant way. You’d been so eager when you’d first gotten in the shop – nervous, sure, but eager. And you were so, so young. You reminded him of himself in a way.

In the way you’d immediately changed he’d yelled, which even Tim could admit would’ve been… slightly scary. And that change had implications, ones Tim didn’t like. He especially didn’t like the implication of what that made him to you. A threat. So he’d never mention it, but he did quietly resolve to adjust – adjust, not change – the way he made sure you learnt what you needed too.

---

A few weeks into your training and Sergeant Bradford had significantly lowered on your rating of ‘scary people I know.’ While he was still harsh, and quick to criticise, he’d never shown you that cold, disappointment-infused yelling that he had on your first shift. It’d made it a lot easier for you to get comfortable around him, and you’d almost immediately started breaking the ‘no personal talk in the shop’ rule.

“Anyway, then she said that I was the one who needed to check my attitude. I mean can you believe that? Me? Having an attitude?” You said, watching your surroundings (you hadn’t forgotten your first Tim Test) as you rambled about some woman you’d run into grocery shopping.

At your comment, Bradford simply side-eyed you. He did that a lot, you were realising.

“Rude. That’s rude.” You said in response to the side eye. “It gets worse, though. She had the audacity-.”

Bradford held up a hand, cutting you off. “Boot.”

You turned, “Yes, sir?”

“Stop. Talking.”

You shut your mouth, but that was mostly to hold back a slight laugh. Bradfords hands were wrapped around the steering wheel, but they weren’t white like they were when you really needed to shut up. (You’d always been observant.)

“But this is the best part of the story.” You pressed.

“Boot, I swear to god-.” Before Bradford could issue whatever threat, he planned too, someone’s voice crackled over the radio.

“7-Adam-100, we have a domestic call at 4195 Clover Drive. Neighbours reported shouting.”

Tim’s face hardened. He glanced briefly at you, and you knew, even without a mirror, that your face had paled a shade. You’d been lucky so far to not have to deal with any DV calls. Guess that luck was over.

“7-Adam-100, show us responding, Code 6.”

Tim floored the breaks a little harder than he objectively needed too.

You could hear the yelling as soon as you pulled into Clover Drive. It was distinctly male, the words harsh and clear, and coming from a house halfway down the street.

It was an effort to clear your head.

“What’s the procedure for a domestic call, boot?” Asked Bradford as you switched off your sirens and approached the house.

You swallowed, “Um.  Get inside the house to assess any damage. Separate the assumed predominant aggressor from the presumed victim or any children if possible. If there doesn’t appear to be violence, there isn’t much we can do, though.”

Bradford nodded tightly. “Good. I’ll take lead on this one.”

“Yes, sir.”

 You knocked on the front door as Bradford called out, alerting the occupants to the polices presence. The yelling stopped immediately.

“Is there a problem, Officer?” Asked a man, probably in his forties. You and Bradford pushed your way into the house as you spoke with him. There was water spilt across the countertop, and a girl in her early teens standing in the kitchen. Her face was tear-streaked, but she appeared unharmed.

“We got reports of yelling from this area, sir.” Came Bradford’s voice from behind you. Your head was starting to spin as memories flooded back to you: late nights, angry words, the occasional smashed plate. Or worse.

You didn’t hear what the man (you assumed he was the girl father) said in response. The teen was watching you and Tim with wide eyes, shaking her head. She rubbed her wrist absentmindedly, and if you weren’t so stuck in your own head, you would’ve thought to ask to see if she was injured. You turned to her father and vaguely registered that he was wearing a wife beater under his button up. Ironic.

“Let’s go, boot.” Bradford snapped, beckoning you over. His jaw was set, and he obviously didn’t believe whatever the man had said. Your head felt like it was underwater as you walked out of the house, and your stomach turned. Memories flooded your head.

Bradford was grumbling under his breath, something about hating the laws around DV in California, when he noticed you stumble towards the bushes outlining the road.

“You good, boot?” He asked, frowning something.

You nodded frantically, “Mmhm… fine, si-.” The ‘sir’ was cut off by the sound of you throwing up in the bushes. You hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so nothing really came out, but still you dry heaved, clutching your stomach.

“Shit, Y/l/n, are you okay?” Instantly, Tim was at your side, one hand on your back. You nodded vaguely, gesturing for a drink of water. He almost ran to get it. When you could finally breathe, and had swallowed nearly half a litre of water, he asked,

“Jesus, boot, what the hell was that?”

“I’m fine.” You insisted, not wanting to get into some conversation about your past: Bradford wasn’t the understanding type. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Like hell it’s not.” Bradford snapped, guiding you back to the shop. His words were harsh, but his touch gentle. A strange combination, but one that left you feeling comforted. “Listen, boot, if you’ve got something that’s going to make you react to scenes like that, I need to know. Now.”

You shook your head frantically, refusing to open up. As much as you were starting to trust Bradford, you weren’t ready to give him that information. Not when he was the age he was, the build he was, holding so much authority over you

“It’s fine, sir. I swear. It won’t happen again.” You repeated, and you meant it. It wouldn’t happen again.

Tim surveyed you for a moment, watching the guarded expression in your eyes. It was one he recognised, having seen it in his reflection countless times after teachers asked about a suspicious bruise. It was for that reason he relented, though he fully intended to bring it up again. “Fine. But if have something you need to tell me… you can, kid.”

“Yes, sir.”

---

More time passed, and even though you still refused to open about your childhood to Tim (how do you even have that conversation?), you were starting to rely on him.

It was inevitable, you supposed. Unrequited, but inevitable. After all, he was in his mid-forties, an authority figure, admittedly a bit of a dick, but you were gradually (ever so gradually) starting to see a slightly gentler side of him. So of course you looked up to him. You had daddy issues, okay?

It wasn’t a crush. You knew that for sure. You’d half expected it to be, but it wasn’t. Instead, it was a healthy dose of admiration, paired with a slightly-less-healthy dose of please god be proud of me. But that was fine. It was entirely reasonable given he was your TO. You hoped.

---

“You’re under arrest for attempted grand theft auto and possession of illicit substances,” you said, hooking handcuffs around some criminal’s wrists. He’d been a pain in the ass to catch, and you could already feel a bruise blooming across your jaw from his escape attempts. Bradford had, predictably, been unhelpful in the arrest, instead opting to analyse your fighting technique as you’d taken the crook down. He’d even cracked a rare ‘good job’ smile as you’d put the cuffs on.

You pushed the perp against your shop, already halfway through the Miranda Rights: “You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand these rights?”

The thief mumbled slightly, and you nodded to Tim to take him off your hands. The second your hands were off him, however, he started complaining. Loudly.

“Aw, come on man. If you’re gonna arrest me, at least let the lady cop throw me ‘round.” He said, looking over his shoulder to grin at you. You scrunched your nose. It wasn’t the first time a suspect had hit on you, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“Nothin’? Dude, you gotta… I ain’t going to jail without gettin’ to feel some sweet lady cop ti-! Ow! The hell was that for?”

Tim scowled, hitting the suspect over the back of the head a second time for good measure (or something). “Get your eyes off Officer Y/l/n. You’re not fit to look at her.” He shoved the perp into your shop, rougher than was strictly necessary, and you couldn’t help the slight smile that crept onto your face.

“Really?” You asked, slipping into the shop’s passenger seat.

“What? You got a problem, boot?” Tim said, his voice flat. You just chuckled and shook your head.

“No problem, sir.”  

---

The silence in the shop was unbearable. It was almost lunch, and you’d scarcely said a word all day. You were preoccupied replaying your conversation with your parents from the night before over and over in your head, trying to figure out how them coming over for dinner had dissolved into fighting so quickly.

“You good, boot?” Tim asked after a particularly long stretch of quiet. “Usually I can’t get you to shut up, but you’ve barely said a word today.”

You nodded quickly, forcing yourself to focus. “I’m fine, sir. Sorry. Just tired. Besides, not personal talk in the shop, right?”

“When have you ever followed that rule? You sure you’re good, boot? Because if something’s going on that’ll affect your performance, I need to know.”

“Nothing’s going on. Sir.” You knew the words sounded thin, but what were you going to do? Complain about your parents?

Tim glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “Uh-huh. In that case, what colour was the Lexus we just passed?”

Shit. You hadn’t been paying attention to your surroundings, too lost in your own thoughts. “Uh… silver?”

Another side eye, this one harsher than the last. “There was no Lexus. It was a Camry. And for the record, boot, it was blue.”

“I…” You didn’t really have a defence.

“Seriously, kid. What is going on?”

“Nothing.” You said, and you had to admit, you sounded like a kid. “I just. Had my parents over last night, and it didn’t… go great.”

Instantly, Tim was on edge. He wasn’t proud of the reaction, of the way his stomach instinctively dropped. He knew, he knew, that his version of ‘it didn’t go great’ with family wasn’t the same as most people’s. But this was you. You who’d thrown up at your first DV call, even without any violence. You who’d completely shut down after being yelled at.

Which is why he couldn’t help the immediate questions if: “Are you hurt?”

You tensed. Why would he ask that? “No,” you replied, “I’m not hurt.” It was true, technically. You hadn’t been hit since you were fifteen. And even then, it’d been rare.

Tim’s eyes flicked over you, trying to find a lie. “What happened?” He asked, and his voice had a weird gentleness that made you feel... strange.

You swallowed. Shrugged. “My parents came over for dinner. I did something, I don’t really know what, ‘n pissed my father off.” Your explanation was purposeful vague, but you could help but add: “He broke my favourite mug, which really pissed me off. It’s my apartment, you know? He’s not supposed to be able to break my shit anymore.” A long pause, your father’s furious insults running through your head. “He didn’t like it when I told him that.”

Tim nodded slightly, knowing exactly what you were suggesting. “He insult you?”

“Nothing I haven’t heard before.” Despite your cool delivery, the words stung. You looked away, out the window, feeling tears prick at your eyes. You didn’t like talking about this, especially not with Tim. Just because you viewed him as... something, didn’t mean he thought of you ask anything more than a rookie he had to train. A burden.

“I’m sorry, kid.” Tim said, assessing you carefully. “I know what that feels like.”

“You do?” You looked at Tim, curious, and instantly regretted it. The tears welling in your eyes were all too obvious now.

“Yeah. My dad was like that too. I got slapped around my fair share.” Tim’s words were clipped. He clearly also wasn’t fond of talking about his childhood.

“Oh.” What else could you say?

“Listen, boot. I know it’s rough. And you don’t deserve it. But you’re not whatever he says you are, okay?”

You sniffled, hastily wiping your eyes. “Yeah. I know.”

Tim nodded tersely. “Good.” There was a small moment, where Tim placed a hand on your shoulder, and you felt like things might actually be okay. Like you might actually have someone. Then, “Come on, boot. We’ve got six hours of shift left. You gonna focus now?”

---

Tim kept an eye on you the rest of the day. He’d known there was a bit of him in you, but the parallels between your childhoods made his heart crack.

He could see the countless untold stories behind your eyes, ones he’d undoubtedly heard before. And the way you’d tensed when he asked if you were hurt... you hadn’t been hit last night, but you had been before.

He really had tried to not get attached.

And look. He knew you looked up to him. He’d seen the way you preened at praise, the shaky look over to him after making a decision, waiting for his nod of approval, regardless of how confident you were in the decision. He’d tried not to encourage it – limiting praise, refusing to approve your decisions unless you did first. It wasn’t good for a rookie to get that attached to their TO, not when they were only partners for a year. It was especially not good for them to view them as some sort of parental figure. More importantly, Tim Bradford didn’t get attached to his boots.

But goddammit it. The look in your eyes when he’d told you about his dad? It made him abandon all the principles he thought he held so strongly. He’d always wanted a kid, after all.

---

“Does anyone know what day it is today?” Sergeant Grey asked from the front of the roll call room.

You groaned internally. Of course he had to announce it to the whole it room.

A few rows behind you, Officer Chen perked up, grinning, you were sure, at Bradford.

“The day Officer Y/l/n takes her six month exam.” She said.

Cheers and whistles filled the room and you almost buried your head in your hands.

“Boot!” Tim called out. You turned to look at him. “I’ll take it as a personal insult if you don’t get more than a 93 on this exam.”

Great. Like you weren’t stressed enough about the exam already. “Yes, sir.”

As Grey tried to calm the room down, you swallowed, focusing on calming your breathing. You knew what you were doing. You just had to not disappoint Tim. Not forget everything. Not be a total fucking failure.

No pressure, right?

---

Three days later, and you were back in roll call. Grey had written three numbers on the white board. An 84. A 91. And a 95. Your stomach dropped at the sight of the 91 and the 84. Of course you’d failed. Of course. Why hadn’t you worked harder? You’d been a straight A student in high school, and university, why was this different?

“Can anyone guess which of these belongs to Officer Y/l/n?” Grey asked the room. Various answers were shouted out, most leaning towards the 95, until Grey cut them off and said: “The 91. Good work, Officer.”

You could only nod, your head already pounding. You’d failed. Not really, not truly, but enough. And Tim. What would he do?

You didn’t notice everyone leave the room. Didn’t notice Tim approach you, not until he was practically having to shout in your face.

“Boot? Boot! Y/l/n!” The sound of your name, paired with Tim waving a hand in your face, snapped you back to reality.

“Yes, sir?” Your voice had an almost unnoticeable tension to it. A shake. Please, please don’t be mad.

“Let’s go, boot. Why aren’t you getting the war bags?” Tim asked, completely ignoring your test results.

Completely ignoring your test results? What? Why wasn’t he yelling, reaming you out for disappointing him? He’d been very clear with his expectations and he’d never been one to let you down gently if you did something wrong.

“Sir?” You asked, confused.

“What is it, boot?” Tim asked, exasperated. You should’ve been on the road by now. Wait, where you okay...? Your eyes were wide. Almost afraid.

“Why aren’t you mad?”

“What? Why would I be mad-..? Oh.” Tim looked down at you, his face softening as he recalled what he’d said before your test. What you’d told him about your past. “About your test? No, kid, I’m not mad. I was screwing with you when I said you needed to get a 93. A 91 is an excellent result, boot “

“Oh.” You said quietly, looking away sheepishly. Of course he wasn’t mad. This was Tim.

Tim looked at you like you were an idiot, but somehow, you didn’t feel stupid or insulted. “Yeah, oh. You’re not a disappointment, kid. Not to me. Now hurry up and get the war bags sorted.” Tim clapped you on the shoulder as he sent you on your way, and you couldn’t help but think that this was what a father was supposed to be like.

---

“Red or black?” You asked Tim during one shift a month or so later. It was a random question, but you wanted his opinion.

Tim glanced at you. “As concepts, or…?”

“As dress colours.” You elaborated, before hesitantly adding, “I have a date.”

The shop skidded to a stop. “Woah, woah. You have a date? When? With who?” Tim was turning instantly, all his attention on you.

You bit back a laugh. “Tonight. With a boy. Jacob. And I don’t know what to wear.”

Tim frowned. “Where did you meet this ‘Jacob?’” He couldn’t help the protective instinct. The last time one of his rookies went on a date, she got kidnapped. And you weren’t Lucy (he wasn’t in love with you) but he did… care.

“At a bookshop. Calm your farm, Bradford. It’s one date. You really pulling the protective dad card right now?” You smirked, watching the slight red colour Tim’s face.

“I- no. I’m not pulling a card, boot. I’m just… curious.” Tim spluttered, not wanting to admit that he was definitely acting like a protective dad.

“Uh huh. He’s a good guy, Sarge. He’s funny, and sweet, and I actually like him.” You said, as if the concept of actually liking a guy was foreign. It had admittedly been a while since you went on a date. “So, red or black?” You repeated, crossing your arms. Your cheeks were the tiniest bit pink.

Tim glared from the corner of his eye. “Black.”

“Thank you.”

In signature Bradford fashion, Tim huffed and simply said, “For the record, I still don’t like this whole ‘date’ thing, boot.”

---

The date was a success. So much of a success, in fact, that three dates later, Jacob came to pick you up after work the next day. It was adorable, and he showed up with fresh flowers and a planned date, and it would’ve been perfect, if you hadn’t been leaving the station with Officer Bradford.

The same Bradford who’d been demanding more information about “this Jacob person” ever since you’d first mentioned a date.

So, while you were excited about the date, you weren’t thrilled at seeing Jacob stand in front of you, levelled by one of Tim’s many practiced glares.

“Who are you?” Tim asked, crossing his arms. He knew exactly who he was.

“I’m Jacob…?” Your boyfriend said hesitantly, trying to figure out why the man in front of him was staring at him so intimidatingly.

You winced and jumped in quickly. “Jake, this is Tim. My TO?”

Recognition clicked quickly in Jacob’s eyes.  He instantly stuck out a hand to Tim, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Uh huh.” Tim raked his eyes over Jacobs outstretched hand, but didn’t shake it. “You got a last name, Jacob?”

“Anderson.” Jacob supplied immediately, lips twitching faintly in amusement.

“What do you do, Anderson? If you say screenwriter, you’re going in a cell.”

Jacob chuckled. “I’m a teacher, sir.” Tim didn’t look impressed, but he didn’t look totally disgusted either. Which, to you, was a win.

“Is this the part where you tell me not to hurt Y/n?” Jacob asked with a barely contained grin.

Tim glowered. “Yes. In fact, consider this your one and only warning. Hurt her, and I’ll find a way to make you spend the rest of your life in a cell.” Tim crossed his arms over his chest, and God you were glad he’d never given you that look before.

Pitying your partner, you jumped in and placed yourself between the two most important men in your life. “Oookay, Bradford, chill. We’re going to go now. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay, sir?”

“Uh-huh. See you tomorrow, Boot.” Tim’s words came out tense, and he didn’t take his eyes off you until you were well out of the carpark.

---

The day had arrived. You’d officially been a police officer for an entire year. You weren’t a rookie anymore.

It was everything you’d dreamed of it being.

“Finally, congratulations to Officer Y/l/n for completing the FTO program and surviving her rookie year. Welcome, officially, to the team, Y/l/n.” Grey walked over to you, shaking your hand proudly. “Good work, kid.”

“Thank you, sir.” You beamed, returning the handshake. Grey dismissed the rest of roll call, and you walked out of the room. You could barely make it a few steps without someone grabbing you, hugging you or congratulating you in some way. You’d never been happier.

You reached the edge of the room and were met with Sergeant Bradford, a rare smile on his face.

“Congratulations, Y/l/n.” He said, reaching out a hand.

“Don’t even try.” You said, knocking his hand out of the way and pulling him into a hug. It was unprofessional, you knew, but you couldn’t help it. Aside from your boyfriend, Tim had managed to become one of the most important people in your life over the past year.

Tim froze for a moment, but gently returned the hug, patting your back a couple times. You thought you heard Harper snicker from across the room. You definitely heard Lucy say the word ‘Dadford.’ She wasn’t… entirely wrong. You had found a father in Tim. Maybe one day he’d even admit it – in actual words, not just actions. You still laughed every time you thought about his interrogation of Jacob when they’d first met.

You pulled back and only then did you shake Tim’s hand. “Thank you, sir. For everything.”

Tim nodded, the smile lines by his eyes crinkling. “You’re welcome… Y/n. I’m proud of you, kid.”

You smiled softly and forced yourself to only say, “Have a good shift… Tim,” before hurrying away. But as you got into your shop (your shop, for the first time), you didn’t stop a few happy tears from falling.

---

You were nervous. It was your second time riding with Tim since graduating the FTO program and you were nervous. It had nothing to do with riding with Tim, however, and everything to do with what you were going to ask him.

“Tim?” You asked, hesitant.

“Yeah, Y/l/n?”

“I have to tell you something.” You fiddled with your left hand nervously, already missing the weight on your finger.

Instantly, Tim was softening and frowning, “Are you okay, kid?”

“Yes! Yeah, I’m okay.” This time you actually meant it. “I have news, though.”

“Oh?” Tim turned to you for a second, before looking back at the road. “What is it?”

You swallowed, and then, “Jacob asked me to marry him. I said yes.”  

Tim had finally come around to Jacob a few months ago. Little did you know, but Jacob had actually asked Tim’s permission before proposing. You’d told him once about how you wished you had a father that you still spoke to, just for that reason. Jacob had known Tim was the next best thing.

Tim smiled widely, “Congratulations, Y/n. I’ll be expecting an invite to the wedding.”

“Actually, I wanted to ask you about that.” This was where the nervousness was coming in. You were pretty sure the butterflies in your stomach had reached your lungs too.

“What is it?” Tim tilted his head slightly.

“Will you walk me down the aisle?” Tim froze, shocked. You quickly rambled on, as you so often did when nervous, “You don’t have to, I just-.. I don’t talk to my bio dad, and you’re the closest thing I have to a father, and it would mean a lot to me, and-.”

“Relax, Y/l/n,” Tim cut you off with a smile. “I would be honoured to walk you down the aisle.”

The smile on your face then was the third biggest you’d ever smiled. The first had been when you’d graduated the FTO program, and the second when Jacob had proposed. But this… this was an entirely different feeling. This was the feeling of your whole life, finally working out. You had a career, a fiancé, and now, a father. A real one, who never insulted you or made you feel worthless.

What more could you ask for?

fin

!! DO NOT REPUBLISH OR FEED TO AI !!

[artwheat]

hello i love big lizards

I had a lot of fun considering morphology and environmental adaptions but make it fantasy for these.

Insvilvar has rough, rocky looking spikes and lots of fins because he's old as hell and powerful. I like to think the fins aren't really useful for anything, they're more like a lion's mane. The better quality a red dragon's diet is, the more they have, to show they're successful and strong.

Cereza is basically a hatchling by dragon standards, so I made her build lankier and gave her fluff and feathers like a baby dinosaur :) this would be to keep her safe from the elements while her body is still small and not so good at thermoregulating yet.

Zoren was the most fun to conceptualize. He's built more stoutly, with shorter limbs and snout, and lots of fluff to conserve heat in his frozen home. And he's got big ol polar bear paws, to distribute his weight more evenly across ice and keep from breaking through.

[aryas]

- tags via @softvniverse

The thing about fandom-at-large’s perception of Jonsa and jonsa shippers is like - what’s it like when everyone disagrees w you? It happens rarely in ASOIAF fandom. Doesn’t it make you reconsider? How can you be so sure that everyone *else* is actually wrong? Heck I second guess myself for a lot less than that lol

I just find the theory to be extremely convincing? It's the missing piece that suddenly made everything else about the books lock into place as well. When I discovered it, the series suddenly made sense, in terms of what kind of story GRRM is trying to tell. It's a paradigm shift.

The fandom-at-large isn't an entity I find to be very credible in terms of its widely accepted opinions (especially on Sansa) or theories (dragons being the solution to the ice threat) so why would I care if they disagree? I'm not basing my judgement on theirs. I am basing it on what I personally find plausible. Jonsa is a theory that elegantly ties together a number of disparate plot points and puts groundwork for the future back where the story began (House Stark as a family) which creates a counterweight to the other plot points that are heading toward confrontation. It just really works. To me, it is the only theory that works because it doesn't leave dangling ends, and it fits within his fairly consistent messaging on sustainable v. destructive choices. It just works.

[goodoldbandit]

The Journey of Arai Helmets: From Hats to High-Performance Headgear

https://gob.stayingalive.in/revving-up-knowledge-unveil/the-journey-of-arai-helmets.html Discover the inspiring journey of Arai Helmets, from a Japanese hat-making company to a global leader in helmet technology. #AraiHelmets #Innovation A Humble Beginning in Japan Arai Helmets, a renowned name in the world of motorsport, began its journey in an unexpected place—a humble hat-making company in…

[b1asho]

Now, time for the grub to giant creature speedrun. Oh and there's a guy with stripes there too.

The sundyne life stages are:

'Egg, Early-Stage Larva, Late-Stage Larva, Prepupa, Chrysalis, Juvenile (aka hatchlings, dawns, or stilts) molt 1 (of 4), Subadult (aka drakes or kits) molt 5(of 7), Adult (adult females can be called prongs or sights while adult males can be called crowns or shines)'

Here's some more info:

They follow a pretty similar process to Drecu. Clutches are around 6-12 eggs that the female lays on the male’s lower back/hip area (they're held in place with the male's big gonopods)

Larva are soft n squishy. As they’re growing, they look almost identical to Drecu (even their extra little arms are hard to notice because they stay under the body most of the time) the most noticeable difference is the prepupa size and darker coloring, which sometimes aren’t as pronounced as a drew here. Sundyne grow Very fast (multiple individuals have noted that it’s pretty painful during the juvenile and subadult stages). Unlike Drecu, how they emerge from the chrysalis depends on good ol’ genetics rather than pheremones/enzymes. Even freshly pupated, there is a notable difference between male and female that continues on to subadult and adult stages. They're called dawns because of their muted coloring, or stilts because of their disproportionate leg and arm length.

Not all adult females have these, but the one I drew has those branches on her horns as an indication of fertility/matriarch status. Reproductive females will drop their horns and regrow them with this new feature; the more clutches they have, the greater the size and number of prongs. Nonreproductive females might drop and regrow their horns due to environmental changes (such as better nutrition or isolation from other sundyne), but they won’t get the prongs.

Males can’t shed their horns at all! However, as you can see here, they are generally more brightly colored and yellowish than females. The male pictured here actually has an absolutely goated color scheme, he’d be seen as extremely attractive and popular thanks to his dark black and prominent yellow coloration. They see yellow as their special royal color, since that pigment is what makes their signature bright orange patterns (as opposed to the simple red of Rox. The black is actually just a very dark blue). I was playing around with how much yellow tone the average Sundyne could have, as opposed to the mutation where they *only* have the yellow color (an extreeemely special and cool thing for them)

Misc fun facts:

-The random guy for scale has several splice traits going on at once: stripes, whiskers, and naturally growing pink hair! This is pretty common (I just haven’t drawn a lot of humans for example XD). Now that they aren’t being monitored or intentionally tailored, these naturalized gene mods just mix n match randomly.

-he’s not pictured here duh, but the current Seru (Emperor) has the all-yellow mutation, which was part of why he was able to take the other clans by storm ( thanks to that “born holy” type charm that they just couldn’t ignore. ). His giant angry wife, however, is fairly standard as far as Sundyne females go.

-As you could’ve guess from what I just said about the average Sundyne egg clutch size, Maro actually *had* around 5 blood-siblings from the same clutch as her! I wonder what happened to them…

[brittle-doughie]

The Fishercookie (Gem Mermaids)

To that one Anon that requested a Fisherman Y/N.

Every day, the Cookies of the Creme Republic harbor would see the fishing boat leave in the morning and come back at the dead of night.

In and out of the fishing boat with a varying haul, would be you. Donning your worn, but still quite reliable fishing gear, you make your way to your fishing boat with an empty net and always come back with at least something in it when you return.

Sometimes, it was something as small as a blue tropical fish or maybe something as large as a cloud yogurt squid.

The fishmonger cookie at the harbor would give you the coins that were worth the catch you hauled in. She always had something to say when you step through that door into her abode.

“The seas haven’t been kind to ya, eh?”

For when you hauled in little catches.

“Now THIS. This is a fine catch ya brought in.”

And for when you brought in significant catches.

It was standard business fare, until she mentions a particularly unique creature that you could catch on.

Something that would leave you bothered.

“Say, you’ve been gettin’ pretty good with your hauls lately. I don’t think I’ve had this much business since forever! You’re a miracle worker, ain’t ya?”

“But have ya ever considered catching something…special. It ain’t no nightsky squid or anythin’, but a mermaid.”

You felt your being tense up at the mention of them…mermaids.

“They used to be all gathered in this kingdom of theirs, until that no good Abalone Cookie done scattered them all! Now that place is nothing but a ship graveyard nowadays….but I think you might have what it takes to find one of those mermaids.”

“They sell for quite the hefty amount of coin. I happen to have a number of customers wonderin’ when you’ll be hauling in one of ‘em.”

“Hey, ease up on the fishercookie, why don’t ya? They’re probably tired of you tryin’ to hassle them for a mermaid again.”

You turn around to see Captain Caviar Cookie walk into the shop, the fishmonger cookie grumbled to herself.

“Ha, if it ain’t Elder Captain Caviar Cookie. I wasn’t doing anythin’ of the sort, I was just trying to give my good ol’ pal a bit of a nudge. You know how many Cookies will pay a lot of coin for one of them.”

“Well good luck with that, there haven’t been a single sighting of ‘em ever since forever. They’re better off stickin’ to fishing big, yeah? Not bigger”

“They have potential! How can ya grow if ya don’t push your limits once in a while?”

“If pushing limits means possibly gettin’ soggy and crumbling out there in the Black Pearl Island, then I’d rather they stay away from there for good.”

Captain Caviar placed an arm over your shoulders as he leads you out.

“‘Ey! At least think about it! Seeing a mermaid is a once in a lifetime opportunity!”

“Leave ‘em be already! Listen, friend. Ya don’t need to listen to Fishmonger Cookie back there, y’know? You can just fish how you always do. You can never be prepared for the sea, it will throw all kinds of surprises at ya.”

“I don’t want to be the poor lad to find your soggy remains out at sea, all because some Cookie pressured ya to find a mermaid. Nobody has seen a single scale of them in a long time and they ain’t just gonna appear to any Cookie.”

“Do your pal a favor and keep away from the Black Pearl Islands, alright?”

You agreed and nodded your head, you had no intentions of going to the islands to find mermaids.

“I’d knew you’d understand! Come on, let’s have a drink of seawater juice, it’s on me!”

You didn’t have to go to the islands…

———————————————————————

Because, one night, the mermaids found you first…

You had casted your line and was waiting for a bite when you suddenly felt thrashing to the side of your boat. Your fishing net had caught something!

You quickly go to pull out your catch!

Was it going to be something like a fish or something like a squid!

What you got instead baffled you.

“Hey! Let me go! Argh, I can’t break free!”

It was a mermaid! A real mermaid, here in your net! You thought these mermaids weren’t around anymore, yet here one was squirming in your net!

It must’ve been pretty terrifying in her eyes when she sees you, illuminated by the moonlight, pulling out a knife.

“N-no! Please! It can’t end like this! Please, don’t hurt me…”

A mermaid….

A rare sight….

Just think of how much Coin you could earn….

You raise your blade as the mermaid braced herself for the strike….

…

…

…

…

…

Only for her to be freed from the net as you cut the ropes with your knife.

She’s able to move away as she looked up at you. You wanted to say something, but she answers first by hurriedly swimming away underwater.

You held back on your words, instead to just take your current haul and head home as the mermaid watched from afar….

———————————————————————

The next night, you were fishing as per usual, believing that would be the last you’d ever see of that mermaid…when you have this urge to look around you.

You did so to briefly make out a shadow in the distance in the water before it seemingly dived back down.

This repeated for a while, you had the feeling this shadow wasn’t going to come any closer like this.

So this time, right before you left, you left a small gift in the form of a little plant you had on your boat. It wasn’t much, but you hoped that it cleared any misunderstandings that were there.

———————————————————————

“You…you forgot this…”

She tried to hand you back the little plant as she slowly swam to your boat. You shook your head and nudged it back to her, you wanted her to keep it.

She looked at you surprised as she gazed down at the little plant, a small smile on her face as she looked up at you again.

“I’m Aquamarine Cookie, what about you?”

———————————————————————

This became routine when the moon rises during your fishing trips, you’d arrive at a particular spot and Aquamarine Cookie would be waiting for you. You’d two spend the time talking to each other, learning each other’s interests and worlds.

The “whale” you were on was called a boat and she was really interested in gardens, the plant you had given her wasn’t anything she’s seen in the sea. You made it your personal goal to give her plenty of plants for her garden, even the smallest of sprouts was enough for her.

The interactions between the two of you would not go unnoticed for long, for shadows further away in the water were watching the two of you, only descending when you had to leave.

———————————————————————

Aquamarine didn’t join you tonight, a heavy drizzle accompanied you along with a purple mermaid instead. She was steadfast and suspicious of you and your intentions…

“My sister couldn’t stop mentioning you so much, are you really as she described?”

Aquamarine Cookie was talking about you to them? You nodded your head, you had no intentions of harming her or Aquamarine Cookie. This mermaid cookie didn’t seem to believe you, hardening her glare as the drizzle turned to full rain.

You didn’t budge.

“You will turn soggy at this rate.”

You didn’t move an inch, if that’s what it takes, then so be it. She sighs as she waves your hand.

“You’re a stubborn Cookie.”

The rain stopped as the sky slowly clears ups. You take a breath as you tried to remain standing.

“If my sister trusts you, then I will come to do so as well. I have seen the path ahead and I wish to see that it comes true…”

———————————————————————

And it seemed that the new faces didn’t there for you, for more of these sea born Cookies have appeared before you alongside Aquamarine. A golden one would soon join you, her form shining seemingly even in the night light.

“It’s the land Cookie, maybe I should surprise them…”

You were conversing with Aquamarine and Mystic Opal Cookie when you hear a sudden splash behind you!

“BOO!”

That got you as you nearly fell off the edge I fright! This makes the gold mermaid giggle as you collected your bearings.

“Haha, I got you good, didn’t I!”

You nodded your head agree with her, she did get you good there!

“Anyway, I had heard that my sisters were getting pretty persistent in visiting a land Cookie, so I had to come to see for myself. I can already see you’re pretty easy on the eyes, way less odd looking than the usual two legged Cookie!”

To be so casually complimented by a newcomer mermaid, you will admit softened your heart up a lot!

“What’s the matter~? Haven’t had a mermaid compliment you before?”

———————————————————————

The seemingly last one to come to you was different then the Gem Mermaids, it was a jellyfish cookie!

You were going to greet this face that joined you on your nightly fishing when she’s pulled you into the water!

“Oh my…! You’re in need of cleaning! Don’t worry about a thing, just leave it to me…!”

And that’s how you spent that fishing venture in the water as Frilled Jellyfish Cookie toon her time making sure that every speck of you was clean, all the while she’d talk about “her lady”.

While it was nice to hear her reminisce on good times, you learned almost nothing about her from all that. You gestured that you wanted to talk about her, which confuses the jellyfish cookie.

“My lady is…huh? You want to hear about…me?”

It was difficult for her at first, since she wasn’t familiar with talking about herself, but you were patient and in time, you got to know her better, like how tidying up was her responsibility in this old kingdom of hers…

———————————————————————

Though, it would be the last one that proved herself to be…interesting.

While you sat on the edge of the boat, talking to your mercookie visitors, the water behind you now housed a shadow as the mercookie slowly rose up from the water.

Without warning, you were grabbed by the mercookie and pulled back into the water, shocking the others as you barely had time to register what was happening.

You were underwater, grabbed by the collar as an angry red mermaid stared you down, her red trident aimed at you.

“Normally, I’d have nothing to say to a Cookie of the land. You are fortunate that my sisters and Frilled Jellyfish Cookie have taken a fondness to you, so I will let you explain what you are doing out here by yourself!”

You raised your hands up in surrender as you shake your head! You had no ill intentions whatsoever with her fellow mercookies!

She scanned your eyes for any hint of cracks in your words, but can’t seem to find any as her scowl falls. She takes you up back to your boat as you crawled back onboard, the other mercookies relieved to see that you were okay as they tend to you.

Crimson Coral Cookie watched on from afar, seeing how much her fellow mercookies cared for a land Cookie. It made her think if she went about approaching you the wrong way and can’t help but feel a pinch of guilt at immediately assuming you were up to no good once word reached her about you.

She had asked the others to allow her a night alone with you to settle things.

“I had asked my sisters to grant me a chance to try and do this in a proper way. I just…it takes time for me to let my guard down when it comes to anything with land Cookies.”

You sat on the edge of your boat and opted to listen as she explained herself.

You make it clear to her and for the others if she ever tells them of this encounter that you mean no harm to them, even if she didn’t fully trust you yet. You were willing to be patient and wait for the day that she can.

“Hm, perhaps you are as my sisters talk about, land Cookie. Oh! I…shouldn’t be calling you that anymore, would you like to share me your name?”

———————————————————————

Soon, you had the whole group of mercookies joining you on your fishing trips, talking and sharing with you little stories of their lives from what once was their kingdom.

Gone were the days of you sitting in silence waiting for a catch when you had them to help pass the time, even helping you by nudging some catches in your way.

Seeing how much they were comfortable around you, showing themselves to you willingly and placing trust in you is why you’ll NEVER listen to Fishmonger Cookie, even before Captain Caviar Cookie’s talk with you.

Not now, not ever.