#that person who voted for the final person on the list. that was the only vote cast for the last six parties.

[hyperfixation-goes-brrr]

Just a bunch of still-unanswered questions I have

Why was Kanna the only candidate that had the key in the first trial?? With both Sara and Joe, and Mishima and Nao, Joe and Nao, the non-candidates, had the key

What were Gin's and Reko's first trials??

Why did Mishima tell Nao that they should vote for each other, rather than each one just voting for themselves?? And why did he still vote for himself anyways??

Who was the third person that voted for Mishima?? Was it really Shin?? And... why vote for Mishima in the first place anyways??

Where, the fuck, is Mishima's head/collar??? And how the fuck was it taken from the damn box in the first place???

Who actually voted for who, in both preliminaries, as well as the final vote of the first main game??

Why does Joe, a non-candidate, have an AI??

What was the information that Anzu was supposed to tell us??

What was the special information (that was directly downloaded to their memories) that both Anzu and Mai were supposed to tell us??

When Ranmaru told us there's someone from Asunaro amongst them, why do the names Sara list differ between emotion and logic route?? In emotion route, she says Keiji, Kanna, and Alice/Reko's names, but, in logic route, she says Keiji's, Q-taro's, and Alice/Reko's names

What was the point of Kurumada's special information (If a Floor Master meets their doppelganger, they die)?? With all the other ones (that we were told, anyways), we actually did something with them; the only thing Kurumada's information did, so far, was cause a misunderstanding between him and Keiji, and Keiji and Ranmaru

What's the deal with the nurse from Gin's memory?? I mean… with everyone else, it was just the person and Midori (yes, Reko included, cause, while she and Midori were in a public place, it was still just the two of them sitting on the table; with Gin, the nurse was, quite literally, like right fuckin there)

Why was Safalin preparing another Midori for the banquet?? Does that mean that that was what was in the coffin, and the real Midori's still alive??

Why was the fake Hinako there in the first place?? Was it just to even the numbers out, so the number of dummies'll be equal to the number of humans, or is there another reason??

MasterList

[toytulini]

act annoying on this post and ill block you ♡

everyone accusing black sails fans of Being Rude In The Notes owes me $10 for making me look in the notes (like. What. WHERE) and $10 more for subsequently making me witness the Stede fans also being unhinged petty assholes but it doesnt count when they do it, i guess?

at this point im saltier about Black Sails fans being repeatedly being called assholes but ofmd fans Not being called out for probably the same behavior or worse? and with what feels like very little. evidence? god damn

[genniviva]

The mood was pretty weird while counting votes tonight. We were all... baffled? Baffled, yeah, especially at first when we were unfolding the votes and were met with party four, four, nineteen, four again. Wilders' PVV ended up with more than a quarter of the votes cast at our location.

We tried, but none of us could imagine what that guy would do if he were to somehow form a coalition. He has been opposition for so long that we had to wonder--does he even know? He doesn't have a party program beyond "fuck migrants." He relies on charisma and the neat thing called "not being in charge of the government people hate." Dick.

Anyways. Not happy about this at all.

[marisatomay]

not from the us, whats going on with the speaker?

So back in January when the new Congress was sworn in it the republicans had a very slight majority in the House so by majority votes they get to confirm the Speaker—who is the leader of the House of Representatives and third in the Presidential line of succession—but a small-ish faction of those Rs are wacko nutjob conspiracy theorists because of course (those will be the wackos you see bloviating on TV) and they wanted their own idiot in charge or at least to get assurances from R leadership that they would bend to their will and they wouldn’t give it in so many words so it took the (now former) Speaker of the House Kevin McCarthy FIFTEEN (15) votes for people to fall in line and finally confirm him as Speaker (deeply embarrassing—usually it takes 2 votes at most to confirm a Speaker).

Anyway his Speakership lasted for pretty much exactly 9 months until yesterday when, in a bunch of things coming to head—McCarthy’s refusal to impeach Biden for some reason at the request of the wackos, the currently-delayed shutdown of the government over a refusal to pass a new budget, his former ass-kissing to Trump even at the near-cost of his own life, his general unpleasantness—one of the wacko republicans (who may or may not be a sex trafficker but that’s for another time) put forth a motion to remove McCarthy as Speaker which, for the reasons listed above, found enough votes on both sides of the aisle to pass.

So, currently, we have an Acting Speaker of the House (which essentially means the person in charge only exists to bring order to the chamber and can’t be counted in the line of succession or anything), we still don’t have a new government budget, Biden is NOT being impeached but the wackos don’t seem to understand that, and the wackos ALSO don’t seem to understand that as much as we all hate McCarthy they have just shot themselves in the foot for no reason. But, on the bright side, Kevin McCarthy—an absolutely odious, slimy man who spent the Obama years doing racist dog whistles and the Trump years kissing his ass until it, quite literally, almost got him killed upon which he had a brief moment of moral fiber before once again bending to Trump’s demands despite, again, almost being murdered by an angry mob that stormed the Capitol—had the shortest Speakership since 1876. A fetus spends more time in the womb than Kevin McCarthy spent as Speaker of the United States House of Representatives. He has been completely humiliated. You can see it in his eyes. Delicious.

[wroetojaw]

SIDEMEN BRUTALLY RANK MORE YOUTUBERS | H. Lewis

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

summary: cozy day in with your boyfriend and watching the sidemen

tags: fluff, w2s x reader

warnings: slight cursing (not really)

a/n: instead of doing my literature essay I completed this story hope you guys enjoy!! more stories and stories about other youtubers are coming soon! ⋆｡˚

-

“Welcome to MoreSidemen, where the Sidemen, talk badly, about other youtubers” Simon says as the others cheer jokingly.

You giggle quietly while watching the video, leaning back into your boyfriend’s arms. Harry said you were one of the people they ranked and asked if you wanted to watch it with him. And, of course, you agreed because who wouldn’t. You watch Harry as he gets up from the couch to go get a snack.

"You look good in this video by the way," you complemented him as your eyes wandered back to the screen. "I reckon I look good in every video, don't know what you mean..." He remarked. You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him when he sat back down next to you only to be grabed by the waist and pulled closer to him.

"They are our friends, so don't take any of these seriously," Simon continues with a disclaimer, knowing how the internet would react if he didn't. "Maybe not for much longer if I get ranked last for any of the nice ones." You say, half-accusingly glaring at Harry. He puts on a guilty look and shrugs.

"Which Youtuber would you most want backing you up in a fight, we have seven people." The said seven people then popped up at the bottom of the screen. It was you, Deji, Theo Baker, Callux, Danny Aarons, Randolph, and Calfreezy. “Oh shit, it’s my girlfriend oh no,” Harry says, putting his hands in his face. The guys laugh at him and Vik says, “someone’s sleeping in the dog house tonight.” "Bro you better watch what you say."

"Who'd you want most", "Well Deji has got to be number one", "Yea Deji number one," they say in agreement. "Hey! What about me," you say, turning around to pretend to punch Harry. He ducks out of the way and says, "Come on Y/N, he's literally a professional boxer". "Yeah well...I can throw a punch too." You grumble, turning back around to face the television.

"...Theo's up there because he's pretty w..." You hear your boyfriend say in the video. "I could take him down," you mutter. "I know you could okay Y/N," he says as he kisses the top of your head. The guys continue discussing their rankings, not once mentioning you at all. "Okay now hold on a sec, because I personally think Y/N could pack a punch you know, I feel like she's got the temper enough to take a bitch down." Simon reasons with the group.

"Remind me to give Simon a big hug the next time we see him." You say gleefully, happy someone finally recognized your strength. "Yeah, I agree. I think she has the ride-or-die kind of mindset because she will fight for you and what-not, god I love her." Harry says. You look up lovingly at him and kiss his cheek.

"So we're going Deji, Theo, Danny, Lux, Y/N, Freezy, Randy," they say as they list out their rankings. "Are we sure about Freezy and Randy?" Tobi asks, to which Harry responds, "Y/N loves getting into fights so yeah..." You glare at Harry, unsure if it was a compliment or not. "You know she's actually mad strong. The other time she accidentally turned around and elbowed my stomach and it had a huge bruise for a week," Josh added. "Does that mean you're just weak then?" Simon says. The lads just laughed and before Josh even tried to defend himself, Simon already started talking about the fan's rankings.

"Randy's third? And Danny's six?" Simon says in disbelief. "No way I think Randy and Danny swap," Harry says, he looks down the lists and sees you've been ranked at sixth. "Wait no way they voted Y/N as last. Guys have you seen her during our challenges, she would take a bitch down," Harry continues. You thanked him for 'defending your honor' and gave him a big smooch on the lips.

They continued to disagree with the fan rankings, but you honestly couldn't care less anymore. Knowing that your boyfriend thought you were tough and could hold your own was enough for you. You begin to dose off as the video continues playing, hearing Harry chuckle every now and then when his friends make a joke, as he combs your hair unconsciously.

However, one of the questions you hear as you fall asleep catches your attention. "Which youtuber is the most attractive?" You sit up, curious about what would be their rankings. The rest of boys in the video look at Harry, thinking that he would instantly say his girlfriend, but boy were they wrong. "Number one Callux," Harry says immediately. You both burst out laughing as he continues to try and correct himself, in the video, realising his girlfriend was also in the list. You pretended to act offended as Harry 'apologises profusely', peppering kisses all around your face. You couldn't help but giggle at your boyfriend's adorableness.

Laying back down in your boyfriend's arms as he wraps them tightly around you, with the video playing in the background, you look up at Harry, wondering how did you get so lucky and how much you love your life.

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week - June 26, 2023

1. California's Lake Oroville now at 100% capacity following megadrought; 1st time since 2019

Once a stark example of the drastic effects of California's yearslong megadrought, Lake Oroville has rebounded and is once again filled to capacity, data from the state's Department of Water Resources shows.

Lake Oroville, the state's most beleaguered and second-largest reservoir, is at 100% of its total capacity and 127% of where it should be around this time of year - a huge boost after the climate-change-fueled megadrought sucked away nearly all its water supply.

2. Blue whales are thriving in California waters – the story of their amazing comeback

If you’ve recently taken a Southern California whale-watching tour, you may have been lucky enough to come across earth’s largest animal. Pacific blue whales grow up to 110 feet long and can reach a weight of 200 tons. Decades ago, blue whales were nearly hunted to extinction, and although still listed as protected under the Endangered Species Act, marine biologists and researchers are heralding a “conservation success story,” unlike any other.

According to a study published in 2014 by researchers at the University of Washington, the West Coast blue whale population has bounced back at tremendous levels, recouping 97% of its pre-whaling population

3. Newborn left in Florida Safe Haven Baby Box adopted by the firefighter who found her

Zoey is now 5 months old. Courtesy Zoey's family

A firefighter in Ocala, Florida, was pulling an overnight shift at the station in January when he was awakened at 2 a.m. by an alarm. He recognized the sound immediately. A newborn had been placed in the building’s Safe Haven Baby Box, a device that allows someone to safely and anonymously surrender a child — no questions asked.

“To be honest, I thought it was a false alarm,” said the firefighter, who wished to remain anonymous to protect his family’s privacy. But when he opened the box, he discovered a healthy infant wrapped in a pink blanket.

That baby would become his daughter, Zoey.

4. Iceland suspends whale hunt on animal welfare concerns

Iceland's government said Tuesday it was suspending this year's whale hunt until the end of August due to animal welfare concerns, likely bringing the controversial practice to a historic end.

"I have taken the decision to suspend whaling" until August 31, Food Minister Svandis Svavarsdottir said in a statement. The country's last remaining whaling company, Hvalur, had previously said this would be its final season as the hunt has become less profitable.

5. He wanted to pet dogs for his 100th birthday. Hundreds lined up.

Alison Moore had a unique idea to celebrate her father's 100th birthday: a pet parade filled with as many dogs as possible. Her father, Robert Moore, has always adored dogs and wanted to pet every one he saw. So, Alison took to social media and invited the community to join in the festivities. Little did she know that over 200 dogs and their owners would gather for the heartwarming event.

The parade brought immense joy not only to Robert but also to attendees like Rodger, who has Alzheimer's disease, and his daughter Denise, who hadn't seen her father smile so much in a long time. It was a day filled with wagging tails, smiling faces, and love that made Robert's milestone birthday an unforgettable celebration.

6. Historic decision: Estonia legalizes same-sex marriage

Tuesday, the Estonian government has survived a vote of no confidence in the Riigikogu tied to amendments to the Family Law Act and related legislation, which is granting same-sex couples the legal right to wed. 55 members of the Riigikogu voted in favor of the measure, while 34 voted against.

It is proposed that the institution of marriage, as defined by family law, be modified so that  any two natural persons of legal age, regardless of gender, may marry. The words "man and woman" will be replaced with the words "two natural persons."

7. US approves chicken made from cultivated cells, the nation's first 'lab-grown' meat

For the first time, U.S. regulators on Wednesday approved the sale of chicken made from animal cells, allowing two California companies to offer “lab-grown” meat to the nation’s restaurant tables and eventually, supermarket shelves.

The Agriculture Department gave the green light to Upside Foods and Good Meat, firms that had been racing to be the first in the U.S. to sell meat that doesn’t come from slaughtered animals — what’s now being referred to as “cell-cultivated” or “cultured” meat as it emerges from the laboratory and arrives on dinner plates.

----

That's it for this week :)

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[onakomiyaki]

just a silly crush (not) pt.2

pairing : daniel ricciardo x childhood friend-brabham!reader

summary : your wall is starting to crumbling down, thanks to daniel. and the ice exterior you've been putting on for years started to melt, thanks to the daniel, the sunshine himself.

warning: unedited and rushed work, harsh words, slowburn.

a/n : we start to explore what's going on with y/n brabham. and honestly this is one of my favorite chapter to write so far!

most of juniors that tried to befriended you have one same goals; to get you to help them to get close to some of your friends-your driver friends of course. or maybe that's just how you've been treated your whole life when you grow up, so you just assume that they want you for something–link to the drivers in this case.

if there is something you know best about f1 is that it is a hot topic amongst your juniors in modelling world and oh how they wish to be one of the wags of the f1 drivers.

many have tried, from buying you some expensive gift, trying to go on a lunch date with you, or just be your matchmaker–which let's be honest, sound kind of dumb when you surrounded by some of good looking-breath-taking drivers, not only in f1 but on some other motorsports as well–and the list is still counting.

and you, by natural, got a lot of heat from it. but you're fine. by the end of the day you're still the one who spend some holidays with those drivers, not them.

but not even once succeeded to even own your private phone number.

"(y/n) you really need to be nice to your colleagues, the media is onto you again." anna, your manager, watch your reflection with annoyed expression.

"what is it now?" you simply ask, eyes closing as you massage your temple.

"you were voted as the most cold-hearted models to work with." she exclaim, walking towards your direction with ipad in her hand.

you just stare at the pad with unamused expression. you read the headline with a frown on your face, then let out a scoff.

"(Y/N) BRABHAM, THE EVERCHANGING ICE PRINCESS,"

"COLD AS THE ARTICS, HERE ARE (Y/N) BRABHAM'S ICONIC RESTING B**** FACE!"

"i honestly adore (y/n) so much, she's an icon. but it is-it is hard to get close to her. to make friend with her outside the work talk. almost like she build this wall around us."

"i remember she's constantly sat alone in the dressing room-sometimes she just sat there with her headphone on. and when she's alone no one dare to talk to her-she's just that intimidating!"

and there's more articles and some interview snippets from your junior about how unapproachable you are.

"ice princess? what am i, elsa from frozen?" you said, scrolling away.

"i told you to be nice to those young models, (y/n)." anna said, snatching the ipad from your hand.

you finally turn your body, looking up at your manager. "they only want me because they want to get to know my friends." you stated.

"well maybe they want to be your friends? can't you just humor them for once? it won't kill you to gave them some of your friends' numbers..." she asked, sitting down on the sofa, just across you.

"anna, im not trying to gatekeep those men. they are welcome to get to know lewis, lando, carlos, charles, max, esteban, pierre-"

"and daniel."

"-nope. not daniel, not a chance." you finally turn your body, pointing at anna with frown on your face.

"why not? you know him the longest i'm sure you'll find a model that will fit him as a girlfriend." she asked, throwing a little smirk at you.

"that's the problem, i've known him almost all my life! what if i introduce him to a wrong person then shit went downhill? what if they only want his money? i can't risk that anna." you said, voice gone an octave higher.

"(y/n) you know that's not true. that's just you being scared of nothing-"

"anna you don't understand! he is the one constant in my life that i can count on–he keep me grounded okay? i am me with him and the thought of losing him-"

"(y/n)-"

"‐point is im not gonna risk my friendship like that. especially with daniel. if they want to get to know those drivers, just attend the race, get a paddock pass or something. im sure if those drivers truly interested they will come." you finally stated, voice stern as you turn your back on your manager like a kid throwing small tantrum.

anna shakes her head in disbelief as she walk away from you, taking the ipad with her. "you're such a child sometimes."

"oh but you love me enough to stay with me for 10 years." you bite back.

"and i am amazed at myself for doing that. okay back to the topic, can just think about befriending your junior, please? that's all i ask from you, and you know i never asked anything from you." anna said as she walk out from your room, closing the door behind her.

you just sat there, pouting as you return your attention to your original task, watching the replay of british gp on your laptop.

it has been almost 2 months since your party and your meeting with daniel. and its also been 2 months since you call him. yes, texts were exchanged, but of course you miss his voice as well.

between your tight schedule and his race, you never find a time to call him. well you can but choose not to. you don't want to distract him.

as you saw the checkered flag being waved you take your phone, wanting to send daniel a congratulations text for his p5.

p5 bigman. congrats! podium next maybe? i miss watching your shoey thingy.

you stop, hovering at the send button. you want to call him. should you call him? you should probably call him instead. its his highest position of this season afterall.

but what if he's busy? he should be loaded with interviews by now right? ah there's also briefing right? you shouldn't call him. but, it won't hurt trying to call him. worst thing that can happen is the call never got answered anyway.

so you just sat there, phone in your hand as you chew the inside of your cheek, tasting a bit of iron when you accidentally bit too hard.

10 minutes have passed, and you're still staring at your phone. pretty sure by now daniel would've changed his outfit, already out of his race suit and maybe already headed back to his motorhome.

before you chickened out, you press the call button. the call is connected and you shriek, pushing the phone away as if the phone burn you.

"please don't answer, please don't answer! please-"

"hello?"

"p5 mate, that's a good one." one of the engineers welcome him with a clap on his shoulder, but voice is not as excited as it should be.

"yeah, thanks. i can do better, i will do better next time." daniel said, voice a bit trembling from the adrenaline that still coursing through his body.

he pull the baclava off or his head, sweats dripping from his brown curls. his freckled face flushed, chest heave heavily as he wait for his water. if you look close enough, you can see steam seeping out from his racing suit.

he tear the velcro of his race suit, pulling the zipper down. "daniel! points for both of us!" lando, race suit sat snuggly on his hips, greeting the older man with a beaming smile.

"and you did amazing out there. keep up with the goodwork." daniel said, ruffling the younger's hair, smiling proudly at the young brit.

although daniel got points for mclaren, he knew that all eyes are on him. expecting something more from the ferocious honey badger, a win maybe. and truth be told he also expected more from himself.

the fact that p5 is his current highest position in this season really speak something. of course its not a bad thing, but he can't help it. he knew mclaren put a lot of faith on the 7 times champions to take home the first trophy for mclaren.

he silently walk back to his driver room, helmet sat snuggly on his waist beneath his arm. michael, his trainer, follow him while he ramble about their next training session.

but of course the only voices he heard right now is just some static buzz and noises. he is dissosiating, moving autopilot towards the sofa and plop down. his body instantely melts as he stare blankly at the ceiling.

"- and (y/n) will be there and all." michael said.

at the mention of your name, daniel's ears perk up and he only gave the other man a puzzled looks.

"sorry, you were saying?" he said.

"daniel this is getting ridiculous. i've spent 5 minutes explaining how we can improve your training and you just listen to me after i mention (y/n). just call her for godsake." michael said as he put some notes for daniel down on the table, throwing an acussing stare at him. daniel flustered under his gaze.

"sorry i was just– its not that! i–"

"i get it buddy, you're hopelessly in love with (y/n)" michael said, patting the aussie on the shoulder as he walk out from his room. "you really should call her man, stop playing the tough guy card, you're not fooling yourself or anyone."

daniel sigh in defeat, unable to come out with a comeback. to think that everyone but her knew about that–his feeling–is just sad at this point. michael was right, he is hopelessly, pathetically, desperately in love with you. for years now.

he knew he loved you eversince he saw your freckled face blushed under the australian heat, helmet in your hand 20 years ago as you listen to your father explaining how you can improve your turns and how you should control your kart well.

he loved you eversince you introduce yourself, voice cocky and proud after winning the carting session. "(y/n) brabham, and i will be an f1 driver." he remember what you said as you walk towards him and he was stunned, just silently watching as you walk away from him, your ponytail swaying left and right.

he loved you eversince you give him a can of cold soda, putting the can on his cheek. he jumped, flinching at the sudden cold sensation on his cheek. and that was the first time he heard your–oh so cute–cackles.

he loved you eversince he found you hiding away out of the karting field, sitting alone on the grass. he saw how your back was trembling, so he sat down with you. "i will never be a driver. i will never be enough." you said, wiping your tears as you lean into his left shoulder. and daniel listen to the voice of your soft sobs, letting his race suit wet from the tears.

he loved you. still love you. and will always love you. desperately so that it hurts him whenever you call him your bestbuddy ever or whenever he listen how you cry after unlucky relationship with some random man or when he went out on a date with some random girls, trying his best to burrow his feeling deep, which of course doesn't work.

just let me be your man, dammit.

so, daniel let out a deep shuddered breath as he sat down. his eyes landed on his phone that laying on the table, next to the report papers michael left for him.

should he call you?

he shakes his head, raising from his seat to walk towards his fridge. he took one of the bottled juice michael had prepared for him. he took the lid off as he empty the bottle in no time.

after throwing away the empty bottle, he shurg off his race suit, tossing it to the nearest chair.

he was halfway from taking his heat suit off of his body when his phone rang. its so embarassing how his head whipped quickly to his phone and how he struggle to just shrug his heat protector away.

"oh shit-"

he crashed, fall to the floor before quickly running for his phone. he accept the call, let out a wheezed air as he press the green button.

"hello?" he calmly said as he rub his elbow.

"hi danny, you busy?"

"no-no not at all. i was just chilling in my motor home. i have interview in 5 though. do you need something?" daniel finally sat down, this time on the floor.

he wait for your response as lay down, face facing the ceiling.

"oh. no, not at all. i just want to congratulate you on p5."

"you watch the race?"

"i always watch your race, maybe not in person, but i never missed your race."

and now daniel turn into 17 years old girl who got called by his crush, giggling and twirling his hairs. "really?" his voice squeak pathetically, so he clear his throat.

"yes, of course! i will always support my best buddy no matter what, even if it from afar."

oh.

yeah, bestfriend.

ouch.

"aww, geez. thanks, brabham. i knew you're in love with me."

"hah! you wish, ricciardo! anyway-"

"yeah?"

"you're doing great sweetheart. do not forget who you are and what you capable of. keep your chin up, bigman."

daniel smile slowly creeping back on his face. he can feel how flushed his face right now.

"thank you, (y/n)."

"you are most welcome, honeybadger. bite 'em okay?"

he turn his body so that he's laying on his side. he used his left arm as a pillow.

"can i bite you instead?"

silence. daniel held his breath, biting his bottom lips as he wait for your answer. and when he about to apologize, daniel heard you clearing your throat.

"alright pump the brake romeo. anyways, i will leave you be now. i'm gonna catch some sleep here. talk to you later, ricciardo."

"alrighty, cheers, brabham."

and the call end just like that. and daniel feel silly. he pull his phone closer to his face, gently hitting his forehead with it.

"you stupid boy..." he said to himself.

but he can't help it, he wished that you're here with him. god how he want to hug you right now. even better, kiss you right now.

"oi, danny! we need to go now!" one of the pr team shouted as he knocked the door.

"yeah! coming! just gimme a sec!"

meanwhile, you on the other side, had to stop and do a manual breathing after the call. you're slapping your face with both your hands as you watch your reflection on the mirror.

"bro pull yourself together! he is your bestfriend!"

"can i bite you instead?"

"AAAAAAAAAH!"

you let out a scream as you recall what he said to you. his deep voice haunted you–making you both dizzy and anxious (in a good way). no, definitely not. you can't! panicking, you get up from your seat as you pacing around the room.

"that bastard."

prev next

[kirbyoctournament]

🌙 Welcome to the Kirby OC Tournament! 💫

CURRENTLY: Round Six (Semi Finals) and the Second Chance Brackets!

the oc tournament is back again this year, and will be hosted by @starflungwaddledee and @moonverc3x!

this is a fun and friendly popularity contest for kirby-verse original character designs and their associated stories or lore. competitors can submit their characters to the competition during the submission period, after which characters will be matched randomly together in public polls for voting!

there will also be a second-chance bracket, to allow folks voted out early to continue playing and participating in the contest. polls are open for anyone, competitors and spectators alike!

in between each match-up, competitors can create artwork "propaganda" for their characters which will be shared to the blog! getting your character in front of voters will help people to recognise and care about them, and can increase your chances of getting votes-- as well as new fans-- for your OC!

🗓️ schedule of events 🗓️

submissions open: april 8th see below for how to submit your oc! submissions close: april 30th brackets announced: may 10th voting begins: may 13th bracket length: 1 week break length: 2 weeks each voting bracket will last One Week with public tumblr polls on the @kirbyoctournament blog. there will be a week between polls to give competitors time to draw up additional propaganda! depending on the size of the first bracket in particular, poll posts may be staggered over several days. if this happens, the break week will begin after the final poll closes.

🥳 how to submit your oc 🥳

Submissions are CLOSED as at midnight of April 30th. to submit your oc (only one oc allowed per participant!!), simply make a post on your own blog introducing your character with art and/or any lore you'd like to include! make sure to tag the @kirbyoctournament in your post (please do not submit via the ask box.) despite being an oc centric event, you can include canon characters in your OC backstory and propaganda. here is a template for submissions, but this is just a guide and you can deviate from it as necessary! if you want to write a lot of text, consider putting it under a 'read more'! Name: Reference Image/s: Notes on Personality (optional, but preferred!): Backstory and Lore (optional):

remember, this is a friendly competition, none of you will get hurt!

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[warping-realities]

Part of the Family

Hey guys, first of all this is the long overdue 1000 followers special and also the last story for a while. I'm warning you that it may not be to everyone's taste. There are sensitive themes in the middle and I wrote it more thinking about a horror story than anything else. I don't even need to say that I don't agree with the thoughts and ideas presented by the person responsible for everything who is a fucking psychopath who piously believes that his vision of the world is the only possible one. Anyway, I hope it's an interesting read.

Alexander couldn't believe where the hell he was at that moment. For the young New Yorker, visiting a small town in Texas was way at the bottom of his to-do list, just above getting his teeth pulled without anesthesia. But Abby insisted, and he eventually caved. They had been together for a few months, having met at college where they shared a common class in Columbia. Despite her hick name, Abilene Marrie Johnson, Abby had a sharp mind and a biting sense of humor, able to throw shade right back at his sarcastic remarks with ease, making him quickly fall for her. Not that the fact she was a hot blonde with a petite, well-proportioned body gets in the way. Even her terrible Southern accent was just a remnant of what it used to be, almost unnoticeable, though he still found himself grimacing when she let it slip. That was happening way too often since she arrived in her hometown, where her dad and brother worked in construction. How low-class was that? Not that he was about to say anything to his girlfriend, who was eager for him to meet her family. He didn’t share that anxiety; he could overlook her flaws, but being stuck with two ill-mannered troglodytes was out of the question. This was gonna be his one and only trip to this backwoods hellhole, and he was doing it just to please her—later, he’d make up excuses to avoid going through this crap again.

“A July 4th lunch in a community center… how… proletarian.” He commented condescendingly while looking for his girlfriend at the entrance of the old manor that served as the town's gathering spot. Watching the myriad of folks around him, from all sorts of races mingling just fine, surprised him since he expected a bunch of racist rednecks. What didn’t surprise him was seeing most of them wearing something with the American flag or at least some stripes and stars. Abby wanted to dress like that too, but he’d never let himself be seen with someone dressed so… tacky, to say the least. Independence Day had never been celebrated at his house; his parents were fierce liberals with anarchist tendencies, viewing the day as something hijacked by far-right conservatives who used patriotism to justify their anti-democratic antics. Not that any of them had bothered to vote in any of the recent elections. Seeing such a display of mindless patriotism made him think this day was gonna drag on forever. After a three-hour drive from Dallas to the place, he just wanted to find his girlfriend and get through this torment as fast as possible. He finally spotted her chatting with a hulking Southern dude, older than both of them, with that corn-fed hick boy look, prom king, varsity team… the whole package. He wouldn’t have given a damn if it weren't for the way she was talking to him—too damn cozy for his liking.

“Hum-hum.” He said, positioning himself next to them.

“Alexander, you made it!”

“How could I turn down your invite, even if it means hours of driving to such a… picturesque event? However, I had the impression that it would be a family event.

“May seem strange to you, city boy, but in towns like ours, community is important; everyone knows each other and has helped one another at some point, so we take every chance to be grateful to each other and to the country.”

Said the muscular blonde man who was with her, wearing a sweatshirt with the American flag on it.

“Alexander, let me introduce you; this is John Paul Sanders; he’s been my brother’s buddy for life, from school all the way to college. Now he handles the accounting for a bunch of businesses in Bushfield, including my father’s.

“So you’re the guy who finally won our Abby's heart? You’re gonna run into some pretty jealous dudes, she’s quite the heartbreaker.” The man said, extending his hand to Alexander, who, wanting to avoid looking arrogant, shook it only to feel his fingers crushed by the giant's hand.

“Guess you must be one of them.” He commented venomously while trying to hold back the tears welling in his eyes.

“Oh no, quite the opposite. Abby and I are cousins by marriage; my wife Susie is the daughter of Trav’s sister, Abby’s dad. Speaking of which, I gotta run, Abilene; Huck is being a handful; the little demon broke your aunt’s favorite vase yesterday. We’ll catch up later,” he said, kissing her cheek before leaving without even glancing at Alexander.

“Interesting type; I imagine there’ll be more. And as much as he says he isn’t, I thought he seemed pretty interested in you.” He remarked as they made their way to the huge backyard.

“Babe, my house was practically a hangout for the football team; my brother’s friends basically lived there; JP and the others are like older brothers to me, and they all still see me as Tommy’s little sister; it’s natural for them to be jealous. Plus, he’s head over heels for Susie, who’s my best friend. Don’t worry about nonexistent stuff.” She said, caressing his arm.

“My dad’s probably in the back grilling, and my brother… oh, look, there he is.” Abby smiled at another blonde man emerging from a covered area full of tables where the crowd would likely feast later. Sporting a muscular, defined physique, with a five o'clock shadow and that dangerous but cute country boy vibe that certainly caught the eyes of many women, he quickly sparked disdain in Alexander. Did these types multiply by binary fission? The feeling of animosity seemed mutual, as the man’s smile vanished the moment he saw who his sister was with.

“Hey, Abbey Road! Looks like the big city hasn’t changed you one bit; I was afraid I’d find you with blue hair, unshaved armpits, and covered in piercings, with some feminist nonsense tattooed on you.” He said, hugging his sister without giving Alexander a single glance, who was taken aback by the nickname her brother used for Abby, as he imagined that a hick ogre like that would reference crap country music about driving tractors and screwing horses while drinking beer or whatever. Only to then be hit with a mix of disgust and rage at the guy's macho comments.

“Shut up, Tommy, you jerk!” Abby shot back, smiling, without really correcting her brother’s remark, then pulled Alexander by the hand and introduced him. “This is Alexander, my boyfriend.”

“Whats up, bro?” Tommy said, extending his hand to Alexander, who, reluctantly after the last experience, reciprocated the gesture only to feel his delicate hand crushed again as the giant flashed him a wicked smile before turning back to his sister.

“Can I ask what you’re wearing? Dad’s gonna flip if he sees you without a flag on; tradition is tradition, Abilene; I thought you knew that, but maybe the big city got to your head.” He said, glancing at Alexander, as if he knew exactly who to blame for that, before continuing. “I’ll call Angie to get you something from her place.” He turned and called a beautifull and very pregnant Latina woman who came smiling toward them.

“Abby! So good to see you! And you must be Alex; she’s been talking so much about you!”

“Alexander, my name is Alexander.” He replied, annoyed, since he hated any kind of nickname.

“Sorry, Abby called you that and I…”

“It’s all good, Angela, mi amor; why don’t you take Abby over to my place to change and let me and my brother-in-law get to know each other better?” Tommy interrupted, putting himself between his sister and Alexander, wrapping his giant arm around the smaller, skinnier man’s shoulders.

“Sure, I think if you guys chat, you’ll become great friends.” Abby said with a smile.

“I’m sure of it, Abbey Road; now hurry up.” Her brother replied, smiling, while his arm’s strength almost crushed Alexander. As soon as Abby and Angie left, Tommy finally released Alexander, looking at him with cold eyes.

“Speak to my wife like that again, and you’ll wish you’d never set foot in Texas… Xander.” He said threateningly.

“Believe me, that wish already exists… Thomas.”

“The name’s Tommy; I’m not some Thomas.”

“How curious, using the diminutive as a proper name.”

“I guarantee you, nothing about me is diminutive.” Tommy replied, flexing his muscular arm. “And you know what curiosity did to the cat, right?”

Ignoring the threat, Alexander continued.

“I just find the choice strange; your parents should’ve done the opposite and left Abby’s name in the diminutive. Where the hell did they come up with Abilene?”

“It was the name of my dad’s mom, so you better watch your mouth, kid. Actually, I think it’s about time you and my dad had a chat; come with me, city boy.” And he turned toward where he had come from. Not knowing what else to do, Alexander followed him.

“You know, Abby’s always had a weird taste in guys; all the guys on the football team from my time and hers would’ve done anything to date her, but she always preferred… well… people like you.”

The audacity of that hick!

“As far as I know, I’m her first boyfriend.”

“Yeah, exactly.” The other man replied with a mocking grin before pointing to a huge, gray-haired man working the grill, wearing only shorts and an apron with the ever-present American flag.

“Dad’s over there; good luck with that, city boy; you’re gonna need it.”

Tommy said, widening his grin and walking away, leaving Alexander to head over to his father-in-law by himself. Travis Johnson, a self-made man in the construction business, started as a laborer before opening his own company, a pillar of the Bushfield community, Abby’s dad, and apparently not too pleased with the figure approaching him, though he forced a stiff smile for the sake of his daughter when he saw Alexander coming.

“Good morning, son; you must be Alex; Abby’s been talking a lot about you.” He said, taking a long swig of beer.

“Same about you, Travis.” Alexander replied, not correcting his father-in-law on the nickname; he knew he was dealing with a man who wouldn’t take kindly to being corrected.

“Mr. Johnson, son; call me Mr. Johnson; calling me by my first name is an acquired privilege.” The man replied.

“Of course, Mr. Johnson; then I ask that you call me by my correct name; I’m Alexander, not Alex.” Since the old man was gonna act that way, he saw no reason to try to please him anymore; it seemed any chance for a good relationship with his girlfriend’s family was shot, and he wondered once more why he was such an idiot to come to this place.

“Of course, Alexander. We have a lot to talk about, but before that, you want a beer? The meat should take a while, and by tradition, women and kids eat first around here.”

“Thanks, Mr. Johnson, but I’ll pass; I don’t drink anything alcoholic, and my diet is vegetarian.”

“Vegetarian? I see… But the beer is all craft, made right here; The Dubois Widow brews it on the family farm.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to pass on that too, sir.” He said, thinking about contamination and the filth of the pigsty where the old lady probably brewed that horse piss.

“Fine, and I fear we’ll have to move on to more serious matters without anything to grease the wheels.” The father-in-law replied with a voice that was undeniably hostile.

…..

Watching the altercation from a distance was Tommy, sitting at a table with Diego Ramirez, his best friend, snickering at Alexander's pained expression.

“The kid’s shitting himself.”

“Poor city boy. Tommy, that boy wasn’t made for this; I don’t know what got into Abby’s head bringing a city slicker here.”

“Abilene’s always had strange tastes.”

“Hey, asshole, do I need to remind you I was her date to the prom?”

“Only because you were one of my best friends and she knew all her friends would be jealous seeing her with the most eligible bachelor in town.”

“Only because you and our other golden boy, JP, were off at college.”

“Still, it was that night that you and Betty hit it off, and Austin was born; you should thank me for making you take Abby to the prom.”

“Abby herself didn’t seem that grateful; thank God she went to college right after. Which makes me think, a pretty woman like your sister dating for the first time only in her junior year of college is a bit strange.”

“I told you, Abby’s always had strange tastes, as you can see.”

“Dude, your dad’s about to grill the yankee for the barbecue.”

“Would be a better use for him, but the kid’s so skinny he wouldn’t even make a decent serving.” They both burst into laughter, stopping only when a small, dark-haired boy about three years old came running toward them.

“Hey, big boy, come give your uncle Tommy a hug.”

“Austin, come here! Let me see that arm! One more minute and you’ll be bigger than me!”

“I can’t wait to put the kid in pop warner, but there are still two years to go; at least now he has Huck to play with, and Angela’s about to pop with the twins. You’re in for some rough nights, bro; if one’s already a handful, imagine two boys, especially if they inherit my sister’s temperament.”

“Don’t even get me started; if I didn’t love that woman so much… but that’s the burden of a man: providing for the family and understanding when the wife is going through tough times before she gets back to running the household. Speaking of which, how’s Betty’s situation with her mom? The Dubois widow is a tough nut to crack.”

“Imagine being her son-in-law, man. She won’t hear of selling the ranch, but since my father-in-law passed, things have been rough; the cattle and horses need care and Charlene’s not cut out for it, especially with the brewery to run, and Betty’s got our house and Austin… I try to lend a hand, but working as your dad’s foreman, it’s no cakewalk.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would’ve found a way to help.”

“You have the bussiness to help manage, a coaching gig at the school, and a pregnant wife with twins, Tommy; a wife who, by the way, is my sister and would kill me if I overloaded you with my problems.”

“Angela knows you’re like a brother to me, especially after we lost Mateo.”

“I know, bro, but think about it; she’s pregnant with twins, two boys; imagine the tension in her head remembering seeing me and him running around the house or playing ball with you and the guys and thinking that suddenly one of them could be taken from her?”

“That’s not gonna happen, Diego; but you know, I think the conversation got way too heavy for a day of festivities. Austin, your uncle Tommy needs a favor; go find uncle Hunter, uncle J.P and Huck for me.” He said, setting the little guy down before looking at his dad.

“Let’s have some fun.”

….

“What I want to say is exactly what I asked: what are your intentions with my daughter? Abilene may be in New York now, but she’s a country girl, wants to be a vet, and you, with all due respect, kid, you don’t belong here.”

“With all due respect, sir, I think it’s way too early for us to be talking about that, but when and if the time comes, we’ll figure it out.” Figure out way to stay far away from here, he thought without saying it out loud.

“You’re not getting it, kid; maybe in the big city things are different, but here we do things the right way. You came to my house with my daughter claiming to be her boyfriend without asking for my permission first, and you have the gall to say you have no plans for a future with her? No marriage or kids…”

“Oh, as for that, you can rest easy; I don’t plan on having kids.”

“Kid, what do you think you’re doing here? What were you expecting to get?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same… wow.”

He started to respond before being knocked over onto a table by two three-year-olds, with a good amount of cold sauce spilling onto his clothes and hair.

“Little brats! And you ask me why I don’t want to have kids… if I catch those little pests…” Alexander said angrily, getting back up.

“What’s going on here?” asked the biggest cop Alexander had ever seen, a gigantic black man about the same age as his brother-in-law. “Any trouble here, Travis?” He continued, his face serious, though with traces of a teasing grin on his full lips.

“Nope, not at all, Hunter. The kid just lost his cool a bit, that’s all.”

“I think so.”

“Sorry, officer.”

“We respect the kids in this town, kid, and you were talking about my godson and Travis's great-nephew, and the other one is Travis's son’s nephew.”

Alexander looked to the side and saw one of the brats on the lap of the blond ogre who was apparently married to Abby's cousin, and was staring at him menacingly.

“Let it go, Hunter; the kid just lost his head. Speaking of Tommy, where is he?”

“I saw him just a bit ago with Diego at a table a little further up, Travis.”

“If you could take the boy over there, he’s gonna need to clean up and change clothes.”

“Sure, come with me, boy.” The giant said, grabbing Alexander by the arm and dragging him like he was one of the kids.

“Be careful with that mouth of yours, boy; J.P. is a cool guy, but Diego is hotheaded and also the dad of the other of those boys you recklessly threatened.”

Alexander, dazed by the events and indignant about how he was being treated, but also fearing for his own safety, said nothing, allowing himself to be led by in diection of another giant, this one a Latino of the same age as the others. What the hell was in the water in this damn town that created monsters like that? He had no doubt that one day those little brats who knocked him over would grow up to be just as big as their progenitors.

“Hey, Diego, bro. Where’s Tommy? Abby’s boyfriend is looking for him.”

At that moment, the other man was chugging a beer from a pint that looked more like a jug that even one of his giant mitts couldn’t hold on to alone. He finished taking a huge gulp and passed the jug to the side before grabbing his own cup, letting out a loud burp, and bursting into laughter. How could Abby stand living with those kinds of people?

“Oops.” He said, wiping his mouth with his hands. “Tommy went to meet Angie and Abby to find out what’s taking them so long. If you want, I can walk you over there, man.”

“No, thanks; I think I’ll find my way on my own.” Alexander replied, making a disgusted face, finally breaking free from the cop and heading toward the front of the community center before anyone could stop him. He walked quickly, determined to find Abby and tell her he was leaving that place right then and there, and after that, they’d deal with it when she got back to New York for their senior year.

He only stopped walking when he saw his brother-in-law strutting down the street like he owned it, with an air of superiority and arrogance that, if Alexander had the slightest bit of self-awareness, he would’ve recognized as the same vibe he himself typically radiated when not caught in such an embarrassing situation.

“Hey, bro. The guys told me you were looking for me; looks like you’re in need of a little help.”

“I just want to find Abby.”

“Sure, she’s at my place with Angie; let’s head over there, clean up a bit, and I’ll lend you some clothes.”

“I can grab a clean outfit from my car.”

“Nonsense; I must have some clothes from when I was younger that should fit you; that way, we avoid ruining any more of your expensive threads if another accident happens.”

Not wanting to admit he was planning to bail on this place as soon as possible, Alexander opted to follow his brother-in-law to his house. Arriving at the place, a big and cozy house, Tommy asked Alexander to strip down to his underwear.

“Angie will kill me if I mess up her floor, man. Women, you know how they are, especially with pregnancy hormones…Wait here while I grab the clothes, and then you can take a shower.”

“Where’s Abby?”

“Oh, I forgot to mention; she and Angie went to the house next door; Sara, Hunter’s wife, who you met a bit ago, is about to pop; she’s a couple of months ahead of Angie and couldn’t make it to the party today. But I assure you, Abby will be back soon.” He said, handing Alexander a towel. “Dry off with this while I get the clothes; once you’re clean, you can sit in one of the chairs.”

Alexander did as he was told and, feeling surreal, sat there in his underwear while waiting for his brother-in-law to return. After a few minutes, Tommy came back with a change of clothes, which he placed on the coffee table while heading for the kitchen.

“Take a look and tell me what you think.” He said while heading toward the kitchen and coming back with two cups of beer. “So, what do you think?”

“There’s no way I can wear this, man; it’s way too big for me, and I don’t wear tank tops.” Alexander said, holding up a tank that looked more like a sheet, along with a pair of shorts that would easily fit two of his legs in one of the leg holes.

“Why don’t you take a sip of beer, Xander?”

“I already told you my name…”

“We don’t poison our drinks; feel free to drink.” Tommy cut in, then took a sip from the cup he prepared for Alexander before bursting into laughter at seeing his brother-in-law automatically lift the cup to his lips and take a swig for the first time in years. The beer was cold and tasted just like he remembered from the few times he’d had it before.

“Good on ya, Xander. Isn’t it way better this way, acting respectful toward your hosts?”

Alexander was shocked at himself; why the hell did he do that?

“What… what?”

“Hush, boy. You’re about to listen; oh, how I love this part! You have no idea where you’ve gotten yourself into, city boy. You know, I made a promise to my mom a little before she passed; I’d do everything to protect Abby, and I’ve kept that promise ever since in ways you couldn’t even imagine. The things I’ve had to do…But why don’t you let me show you?” Tommy said, and suddenly Alexander found himself in another place, walking alongside Tommy wearing clothes he’d never be caught dead in: ragged shorts, a tank top, and flip-flops, pretty much the same thing Tommy was wearing. Up ahead, walking down the same alley they’d just taken to get to Tommy’s house, was a younger version of himself, all sweaty, shirtless, in shorts and running shoes.

“That’s me on summer break before my senior year in college in Knoxville; I got in on a football scholarship, but I didn’t qualify for the NFL mainly because of what happened a few months before this day you’re seeing. My best friend from school, Mateo, had just died in an accident, and that hit me hard. I couldn’t accept the injustice of the world; first, my mom’s illness, then a stupid accident; it felt like life was just out to punish me. But on that same day, life handed me an unimaginable gift.” He spoke as they approached the backyard of the same house they had just been at. Sitting out front on a bench was a figure that stood out from the rest of the place. An effeminate kid with long blonde hair wearing a feminine outfit—maybe a trans woman? Alexander tried to formulate a question only to realize he was completely unable to speak.

“Hmmm…”

“Let me handle this, Xander. That’s Dylan, one of those weird kids who don’t really know what they are; a rarity around here; you won’t find any of them in town today. I didn’t dislike him; he was polite and considerate, in his last year of school, and undoubtedly eager to leave a place like Bushfield behind once he graduated. Strangely, he and Abby formed a friendship even though she was three years younger than him, and if I could say anything in his favor, it’s that he treated my sister like she was his own. So understand, what you’re about to see was born from frustration and mourning; before this, I might have made a joke or two about the kid, but generally, we treated each other with a modicum of respect. But seeing him there, a dude who refused to be what nature intended, someone who was giving up his masculinity while Mateo, a real man, a warrior, my brother, had left this world, that awakened something in me—an incandescent rage. But not just that; look.”

“What are you doing standing there, fag? We don’t want someone like you dirtying our home and our image.” The younger Tommy said.

“Tommy, come on, that’s not how you…”

“Shut up, you little shit, you fake woman; how can it be that God takes the men and leaves something broken like you…”

“Tommy, that’s enough; you’re not gonna talk to me like that; I get that losing Mateo hit you hard…”

“Don’t you dare say his name with that filthy mouth, you queer… I wish you were like him so I could beat you up and not feel like I’m hitting a woman.”

And then it happened; for a moment, it seemed like Dylan was going to burst into tears, and then, in the blink of an eye, where he had been, was now an older man just past twenty, clearly of Latin descent, with well-defined muscles, a bit dazed for a moment.

“Mateo?” the younger Tommy asked.

“Hey, I miss him too, bro, but you’re talking to the other twin.” He said with a smile. Then the illusion shattered, and Alexander found himself back in Tommy’s living room, unable to move or speak, just thinking about the impossible thing he’d just witnessed.

“And that’s how Diego came into my life; what a surprise it was to find out that to the rest of the world, he’d always been Mateo’s identical twin, and any mention of Dylan raised eyebrows and brought laughter; there’d never been one of those in Bushfield. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what happened, without getting any answers. It wasn’t until over a year later, when I was back in town working as an assistant coach at the high school, that the situation recurred. Abby was starting her junior year and got involved with a troubled kid; Hugo Lafévre had transferred from New Orleans and was the worst kind of troublemaker; he organized protests and rallies against everything I’d been taught to value; he was pro-abortion, anti-gun, and railed against what he calls police violence. He had zero respect for authority figures. I had to do something.”

Again, Alexander found himself in a scene against his will. This time, he was wearing a coach’s uniform, just like Tommy was now, as well as a younger version of he, talking to a young black kid who looked at him with a mocking gaze.

“I have no idea what my sister sees in you; you’re insubordinate and disrespectful.”

“You’re just scared of losing control; for people like you, it’s all about control.”

“Without control, our society falls apart.”

“And what’s the problem with that? It’s about time to dismantle the society you’ve built.”

“Then I think it’s about time you man up, kid.”

“We have very different definitions of what it means to be a man… coach.” The kid replied before breaking into laughter, not realizing the fury building in the older man, who seemed ready to pounce on him, but amid the laughter, the boy seemed to get scared, and puff; suddenly, the giant black man Alexander had met earlier stood before the two, resuming the laughter and speaking.

“… that’s style and lets my abs breathe, and you’re really gonna say anything against a cop, bro? Especially when you need my help to train these little troublemakers; I would’ve been a professional edge rusher if I hadn’t chosen to be a cop.”

“In your dreams, bro…” the younger Tommy replied, still dazed before the image dissolved again.

“It was the transformation of that little shit Hugo into my bro Hunter that made me realize what happened to Dylan wasn’t just a coincidence; I decided I was gonna explore these skills of mine. Slowly, I started hunting down the worst types in town, the punks, the deviants, and the insurgents, and turned them, one by one, into productive members of society. Abby, for her part, finished high school without getting involved with any other undesirable types. But then came her time to go to college; she could’ve gone to Austin or Knoxville, but no, she had to go to the Ivy League, Columbia! What a dumb idea, but my dad agreed, and I wouldn’t dare challenge him. Everything went well for a while, until her first summer break. She showed up here with some older, fat, scruffy dude, who smelled like weed, a wannabe poet who wanted people to call him Sartre; I didn’t even bother to find out his real name; it didn’t matter.

A new vision, quicker than the last. He and Tommy, dressed in Levi's jeans, flannel shirts, and cowboy boots, watched a Tommy dressed exactly like them, who in turn was watching the man Tommy had described, clearly high, turning into the well-groomed blonde guy Alexander met that morning.

“And that’s how J.P. came to be, John Paul, get it? Bet you thought I was some dumb redneck, didn’t you? By then, I didn’t even need to think much to get what I wanted, and I always made sure to keep Abby’s boyfriends close to me because my sister has a knack for finding the most annoying types who end up becoming my best projects. Now you… with you, she outdid herself… with you, I’m gonna have a blast.” He said with a sinister grin on his face. “You can speak now; the last words of a dying man, or did the cat get your tongue?”

For a moment, it really seemed like Alexander was going to say something, but what came out of his mouth wasn’t words; a slimy piece of flesh he couldn’t tell if it was his tongue or something else pushed its way through his lips, prying his teeth apart in an unnatural way and slithering across his face like a giant worm. Soon after, he felt his abdomen contracting with insane intensity, while his face contorted and his skin burned and bubbled in a transformation much slower and more painful than those he had witnessed; not that he had time to think about that amidst all the agony. As the environment around him seemed to darken, only illuminated by the source of heat he had become. Then the pain in his abdomen became unbearable, and while he squeezed it, desperately seeking some relief, it felt like his hands were sinking and merging into the muscular fabric that had just moments ago seemed so solid. But it wasn’t just his abdomen; his arms and legs grew and bulged as he threw himself forward, trying to puke, only to feel his mouth stretch unnaturally wide, while his expanded body was drenched in sweat that seemed to evaporate instantly, only to be replaced by another torrent. Just like the pain began, it stopped, only to start again within his head; it felt like his brain was melting, thoughts, ideas, his very identity turning to mush. He didn’t even notice he now had well-defined abs and toned arms and legs or that his hair had gone from red to a dark brown almost black, while it was drenched in sweat. His physique was nowhere near the monstrosity that was Tommy and his minions. But that was about to change; as his mind emptied of any memory or sense of reality and he threw himself back, leaning against the chair, his arms grew to monstrous proportions, his abdomen became a brick wall, and his chest swelled, while a beard sprouted on him, and finally his thighs ballooned like cords of pure steel, and his calves achieved the angular form of someone used to pushing them through strenuous workouts, while his feet grew absurdly large, emitting a powerful funk that could only be rivaled by that coming from his armpits.

“Almost there, Zander, bro, almost there.”

Upon hearing that name, his head exploded with images, color, and sound, with memory after memory flooding into his mind in such rapid succession that if any trace of Alexander had remained, it would have been instantly suppressed. Then, much faster and more painlessly than when it began, it ended. Throwing himself back, the brute that had replaced Alexander was panting, grinning stupidly, staring blankly at nothing.

“Zander, man, you good? Why don’t you take a sip of beer to cool off?” Tommy asked with a seemingly concerned tone as the light returned to the environment, and the brute in front of him seemed to shrink a bit in size while the sweat that was pouring down his body became just a sheen on his bronzed skin, as he automatically lifted the cup of beer to his lips.

“Ahhhh, I really needed that, Tommy, bro. That was a rough night.” The man said with a grin.

“I can imagine from the screams of the chick you had in my guest room. And from your smell, you reek, bro.”

“Hey, the ranch was way out, and you know how my mom is. Plus, you gave me the key to your house and told me I could use it in case of emergency. Damn, I really stink.” He said, scratching his balls over the old, worn-out underwear he was wearing, lifting his hands to his nose and sniffing them before bursting out laughing.

“Man, an emergency isn’t banging every skank in town in my guest room; you’re lucky my dad didn’t say anything.”

“Uncle Trav doesn’t care about that.”

“Usually not, but it’s not a good idea to do that when his daughter’s at home.”

“Abby’s here? Fuck!”

“As if she didn’t know your habits, man. But I’d be more worried about the fact that you were supposed to be helping my dad with the barbecue and that your mom had to deliver the beer herself; if it weren’t for me and Diego helping out, I’m sure she would’ve stormed the house and dragged you out by your hair.”

“Damn, Zander Dubois, you’re a complete idiot! Man, I need a shower and some borrowed clothes!”

“And what do you think this is on the table, you moron? Don’t worry; we’re the same size.”

“And I didn’t know that? We’ve been borrowing each other’s clothes forever. So who’s the moron, college boy?”

“Get your ass in the shower already, you asshole; I’ll be waiting with a cold beer.”

Zander took a quick shower, knowing it wouldn’t be enough to wash away all the stink from the night before, but he didn’t care as much about that as he did about disappointing Travis; the man had been like a second father to him after his own dad died and helped him with the ranch’s organization while J.P. kept the bills in check. He’d never been the smartest guy, though he knew how to take care of the cattle and the horses, and had his mom’s talent as a brewer. Besides he was one hell of a hunk, of course, he thought while admiring the muscles earned from years of ranch work and playing football in school, the dream of becoming pro ruined by his father’s untimely death and the need to take on his responsibilities, not that he thought he’d have much chance of keeping a decent GPA. But that was all in the past; he had a good life, although his mom bugged him to marry and give her grandkids like Betty had already done, especially since he was the last single guy in his friends group. Worse of all he felt that call every time he played with Austin, the kid would be a hell of a player one day, maybe good enough to achieve what his uncle and dad couldn’t.

“Damn, you are a damn stud, Zander Dubois!” He gratified himself, admiring his muscles in the bathroom mirror before putting on the shorts Tommy had lent him.

“Thanks, bro!” He said walking in the living room and grabbing the cold beer cup Tommy offered him, taking a long sip, wiping his mouth with his hand, and letting out a small burp.

“Hey, Abbey Road!” Tommy waved to someone behind him, making him turn around startled. Only to find no one there.

“Asshole!” He said, punching his friend’s arm.

“You should’ve seen your face, bro!” Tommy replied, cracking up, with Zander joining in.

“That was a good one, bro.”

“Put on the shirt and let’s roll; my dad’s waiting!”

…..

“Sorry for the wait, Uncle Trav; I wasn’t feeling well.” Zander said, taking off his shirt and putting on an apron, if Travis Johnson was throwing a barbecue like this, he wouldn’t be the one to break tradition.

“How odd; you seemed pretty lively last night, Zander.” Travis said with a mischievous grin.

“I’m sorry about that; if I’d known Abby was home, I wouldn’t have done what I did.”

“Don’t worry about me, but I gotta say that ain’t gonna win you any points with her.”

“What do you mean?”

“I ain't born yesterday, kid! I see the way you look at her, and all your buddies are already hitched while you’re still bouncing from bar to bar, hooking up with the first girl who crosses your path just to avoid any commitment.”

“I... I…”

“No need to say anything, son; I’d be more than happy to have you as a son-in-law; I’ve watched you grow up and I know what kind of man you are. But I gotta warn you, something tells me Abby's gonna show up here with some slick city boy who thinks he’s hot stuff just ‘cause he came from the big city.”

“Uncle Trav, it’s almost time for her to finish college and she’s gonna be a vet; there’s no better place for her to work than here, have some faith!”

“I have faith, my boy, but a father’s heart doesn’t lie.”

“In that case, you can count on me and the guys to knock some sense into any city punk who shows up around here.”

“I know that, son. Now enough chit-chat; we’ve got plenty of mouths to feed, let’s get to work!”

In the afternoon, when everyone was well-fed and the booze buzz had taken over a good chunk of the minds present, Zander found himself in the spacious field next to the center, watching kids of all ages play while keeping an eye on Austin and Houston the twelve years old son of his older sister who lived with her husband in Fort Worth so his sisters and brothers-in-law could dance a bit in the hall. And when the not so little guy scored a touchdown in the middle of the fun and ran to hug him, he couldn’t help but feel emotional.

“It’s about time you had your own.” He turned and came face to face with Diego, who was waving and smiling as he watched his own son run over to Huck and J.P., who at that moment was teaching his kid how to hold the ball properly.

“You have no idea what that feels like!”

“Was it my mom or Betty who told you to say that?” He asked, even though he felt a longing inside to be part of that world, to have a little version of himself running around, taking care of the horses, tossing the pigskin in a packed stadium on a Friday night.

“Both!” Diego replied, laughing. “But the boys care about you too, man; what are you waiting for?” He asked as Zander watched Abby play with one of her cousins’ daughters.

“Sometimes we get so focused on something that we forget to see the bigger picture, bro!” Diego continued, turning Zander towards the dance floor full of young women, some sneaking glances his way. “A guy like you ain’t gonna have any trouble finding the right woman; I’ll keep an eye on Austin and Houston; you take advantage.”

….

After dancing with several of the single ladies at the party, Zander sat down to catch his breath while watching the ebb and flow of people, lowering his glasses and checking out a very interesting girl that passed by. Until a whistle startled him.

“Zander Dubois, was that you hitting on Caroline Matthews, a girl from a good family?” Someone said, placing a beer cup on his table.

“What??? Haha, hey Hunter, bro! I'm glad your shift is finally over. And unfortunally, the time to settle down comes for everyone. I want my kids to grow up alongside yours and the other guys’, having the same life I had.”

"So our lone wolf has finally decided to join the pack, thinking about adding a Dallas or a Knox to your mother's list, bro?" Commented Tommy approaching while bringing out snacks and dips and placing them on the table. "The rest of the guys are coming, they're just going to drop the boys off with their moms. We're going to have some boys time. Caroline Matthews then? She's hot, man. But I admit I had hopes between you and Abby."

"Me too, but it's like I said, you and Hunter are going to be parents soon, Huck and Austin are already growing up, I want my kids to grow up with them. And Abby..."

“I get it, man. I just worry about her; she’s always had a strange taste in guys.”

“Your dad mentioned he’s worried she might show up with some stuck-up city slicker.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“That if some snobby city boy shows up here with Abby, you, me and the guys would take care of him, country man style.” Zander replied emphatically.

“Thanks, man. I know I can always count on you!”

“Dude, we’re family. And one day, Abby’s gonna find a guy who’s just right for her; I’m sure of it.”

“I believe that too, bro. And it’s gonna be someone just like you and me!” Tommy replied with bright smile.

[limes-sagau]

Starting My Sagau Writing Journey

Ok Im wanting to dip my toes into the Sagau writing scene and I wanted to put out about 3 ideas I have and plan on writing. Each idea will be outlined below and people are welcome to take inspiration off of them just make sure to tag me in the writing. There will also be a poll at the end where you can vote for which one you want to see first. When I finish writing each chapter they will be put up on AO3. 

Shimeji AU: 

For those who don't know, Shimeji is a browser extension that spawns a chibi version of a character onto your browser. This character can then move around and climb on the borders of your web page and just be a cute little distraction (I know this might sound like malware but its not I've had a Venti and a Lumine Shimegi for a while now and haven't experienced anything that can imply they are malware) 

This would be more of a drabble and less of a full fic. 

Basically the characters in genshin become aware through their Shimeji and then begin acting up in your browser when you're out of the game (when you're in game you're fine).

If you leave your web browser opened when you leave your computer you will come back to it being on a weird page 

Like Venti looking at a wine website 

Diluc somehow ending up on a streaming service watching Batman 

Yae Miko finding your writing 

I'll likely start off with characters from Mondstadt and go down the list for each region.

Kidnapped by the Harbingers (not the final title): 

Exactly as it sounds, in the middle of the night you are taken from your college dorm (or room I likely won't specify) to Teyvat after the harbingers find a way into our world. 

Haven't decided which harbinger will be sent (leaning towards Childe because I feel like it would fit best and he'd be down for that type of experiment). 

Most of it will take place in a separate castle from Zapolyarny Palace. 

If you want to know my specific location I have in mind their is a visual novel called Dottore And The Spy where you become Dottores apprentice (highly suggest this visual novel) but its main story takes place in a castle in the middle of a frozen wasteland away from civilization where both Pantalon and Dottore live. This will be the main location for the story. 

I'll also be adding in Capitano as another permanent resident of this castle because I want to write about a big strong man who is the emotional intelligence of the three main harbingers present. 

The other harbingers and the Tsaritsa will appear but they will be much more understated in their role.

I want this fanfic to go into the mental load that being locked away from the world has on a person's psyche.

Readers' powers will slowly awaken, making it harder for the Harbingers to keep us a secret from Teyvat and specifically Celestia.

This won't be a full blown yandere fic with the harbingers, they will be slightly possessive but it is more about your safety since Celestia doesn't like you. 

Celestia will be the ultimate enemy over all but the story will not be focused on shooting down Celestia from the sky as readers powers will not ever reach the strength needed to face Celestia alone. 

Harbingers plan will not have changed; they are still working to take down Celestia.   

This will be taking place after Sumeru (so no Scara or La Signora and their will be less clones)

The story will also include 

Getting to know and bond with your castle staff like maids or ladies in waiting (I know these are typically only given to female presenting reader but I want to write about gossip and forming friendships so this is what I'm going with) 

Quality time with each harbinger

Impressing Dottore with your basic levels of knowledge on Astronomy (since Teyvats sky is fake)

Eventually a runaway arch

Lots of tears and mental breakdowns, but don’t worry there will be comfort as well

Shenanigans 

Possibly NSFW after reader finally convinces everyone to stop calling them “your grace”

To Make a Haven (Title might change):

Imposter (but reader is the real deal) AU

Reader gets killed once by a mob of NPCs 

I want it specifically to be NPCs so the reader still has emotional attachment to the playable characters

Reader seeks out a safe and secluded place  

Teyvat awakens to readers distress and opens up a hidden area of the map to the reader that can only be accessed through very specific means. 

Reader eventually starts bringing in Hilichurls to what for now im going to be calling “the Grove” 

Reader will begin messing around and experimenting with her powers and finds a way to somewhat heal the hilichurls 

This isn't a full fix it will be like layering a curse on top of a curse in order to negate some of the effects of the original curse

The hilicurls will not return to being human they will become something else (human like but not human) 

This fic will contain way more original characters 

Reader will be more spiteful in this fic but less in like a “make everyone suffer” way and more like “lets shake up the system and make everything more challenging for people because they tried to kill me” 

This fic will span over a larger span of time in world with the reader building a full city in the hidden area Teyvat made for them.

Well those are my three ideas! after this poll is done I'm hoping to get the first chapter out with that week, but I'm a college student and it been a while since I have written fanfiction so i make no promises.

[mistycreativelilacs]

Can you please write a Bruce Wayne imagine where he catches her singing or something cute like that?

Welp… it only took me -checks watch- three years to respond to this, but uh… here’s a 5000 word drabble I guess.

Kitchen Off Limits

About a year into living at Wayne manor you enacted an (ever growing) list of rules. Originally the list only had three rules on it:

1. Sunday is family day. Baring any Gotham destroying/world ending catastrophes everyone is to be in the dinning room no later than 11am for brunch followed by a previously voted on family activity.

2. Family Activity planning occurs on the first Saturday of the month, activities for the whole month will be decided then.*

*Attendance is NOT mandatory, however those who do not participate do not get to complain when we spend 3 Sundays in a row at the zoo.**

**No liberating animals from the zoo.

3. Monday thru Saturday the kitchen belongs to Alfred. Sunday morning’s the kitchen belongs to Mom*.

*That means no one, not even Alfred can enter the kitchen until AFTER brunch**.

**Yes Tim that includes you. You can wait for your morning cup of coffee***.

***ABSOLUTELY NO coffee pots, mini fridges, microwaves, blenders, hot plates, or dry food storage in your bedrooms or you WILL be personally hunting down every rodent and bug that comes crawling into the manor****.

****You can NOT train an army of cats to hunt vermin as a trade off for a mini fridge.

Certain amendments had to be made to the list with each new addition to the household. The final amendment to rule three inspired the creation of its own rule.

243. If you bring a pet into the house, YOU must personally care for it at all times. This includes feeding, grooming, walking, training and cleaning up after them as well as insure they have a proper habitat to live in*.

*Your bedroom is only a proper habitat for regular domestic animals (ie. dogs, cats, fish, small reptiles, small birds, caged rodents such as rats, Guinea pigs or hamsters and snakes, within reason - no large pythons). Large animals whether native to our region or exotic must be housed in a properly built enclosure on the grounds.

Needles to say the Wayne children kept you on your toes. Which brings us to now.

You awoke at the crack of dawn this morning to prep for the day. In a not so shocking twist, Damien had lied, cheated and outright bribed several of his siblings in order to get a zoo trip in this month. The Waynes were such regulars at the zoo (and contributed so much in donations) that they’d named an entire section after the family. The Wayne Reptile House (filled to the brim with several of the reptiles you’d ‘rescued’ from Damien’s room upon Alfred’s discovery of Damien’s unsanctioned renovation of his closet). It was important to you that the children experienced even just a smidge of normalcy amongst all the vigilantism.

You’re staring into the pantry, debating whether to do pancakes or waffles, when an old favourite song comes on the speaker. This was your favourite part of Sunday’s. Once everyone realized how serious you were about the rules, Sunday morning had become your alone time. If the kids were fighting, they handled it amongst themselves. If someone had a question, they went to Bruce or Alfred for answers. Mom was not to be disturbed.

The word Mom still brings a small smile to your face. You’d never really pictured yourself as a mother but when you’d stumbled your way into a romance with THE Bruce Wayne, he’d already gained 2 of your ever growing hoard of children. You’d stumbled your way into motherhood much the way you stumbled into Bruce’s arms.

You begin to softly hum to the song as you decide to just make pancakes and waffles. With a family full of crime fighters more was always the safer option. No one wants a repeat of Tim and Richard’s destructive fight for the last cinnamon bun. You had to spend a fortune redoing the dinning room after, replacing antiques was not cheap, and your heart still hadn’t recovered from the sticker shock. Needless to say the boys were still working off their debt by assisting Alfred in the daily runnings of the manor. As you got lost in the gargantuan undertaking of cooking for the whole Wayne clan, your gentle hums morphed to soft whispers of lyrics.

Just as you were frying the last batch of pancakes the opening chords of your and Bruce’s song came through the speakers. It would be more accurate to state that you’d unilaterally declared it your and Bruce’s song. During your second year of dating you had slowly begun introducing him to the world of romcoms. One particularly chilly fall day that year saw Bruce catching a cold. You took advantage of that to force him into a binge of some of the best and cringiest of your favourites from the 2000’s. Two particular movies seemed to make the notoriously stoic Bruce Wayne emotional. The obvious one being ‘Two Weeks Notice’, but it was the Hugh Grant, Drew Barrymore semi-musical ‘Music & Lyrics’ that would produce the perfect song for your and Bruce’s life together.

As the sounds of Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore came through the speaker you began to sing in earnest.

‘I've been living with a shadow overhead

I've been sleeping with a cloud above my bed

I've been lonely for so long

Trapped in the past, I just can't seem to move on’

Your mind drifted to how you and Bruce met. Recently heartbroken and determined never to let another man hurt you, you’d sworn of men and decided to dedicate all your attention to advancing at work. Your first steps were taking the assignment no one else wanted to touch with a ten foot pole. Being Bruce Wayne’s personal assistant. Those who succeeded at such a gargantuan undertaken seemed to excel through the ranks at Wayne Enterprises, but those who fell short well, you’d heard his last personal assistant had moved back home to small town Kansas and given up the corporate ladder completely.

Your first week had been a cake walk, seeing as Bruce had been away on business meetings in Europe. It’d given you time to get settled in and a system in place. You were determined to be the best personal assistant he’d ever had.

Upon Bruce’s first day back in the office, you’d mustered up all the courage you had and waltz into his office. With barely a good morning you’d launched into a tirade of how things were going to be and that unlike his past assistants you were going to set boundaries. He’d blinked at you slowly, and you were convinced you were about to be fired. His mouth opened and the word okay seemed to unintentionally fall out. You both stood there a moment, seemingly shell shocked at the interaction, before you gathered your wits. With a pivot of your heels you rushed out your own okay before returning to your desk.

Unbeknownst to you Bruce himself had been going through a touch of heartbreak, having had a fall out with his former paramour Selina. His accounts of your first meeting paint you in a much fiercer, more beautiful light. But you’re sure he’s simply remembering the day with rose tinted glasses seeing as you had a poorly concealed coffee stain on your blouse and your hair had definitely begun its escape from the clip you’d rushed it into on the train that morning. Nevertheless he claims it was your fierce determination that stunned him into submission and not his utter exhaustion from sleep deprivation.

‘I’ve been hiding all my hopes and dreams away

Just in case I ever need ‘em again someday

I’ve been setting aside time

To clear a little space in the corners of my mind’

The weeks following your initial meeting were a full of meetings, calls and insuring your boss took proper care of himself. It took exactly three days for you to realize he’d forget to eat, four to realize he seemed to not be sleeping either.

You quietly placed a standing order with the sandwich place down a couple blocks from the building, and then methodically went through Bruce’s calendar and put a two hour meeting blackout everyday around 2pm. You’d also had the couch that sat on the wall just outside his office doors moved into his office proper. The next day you simply waltzed into his office at noon and dropped the sandwich on his desk before returning to your own desk. Two hours later you waltzed in dropping a pillow and blanket on the couch and closed the blinds without a word. As you turned to leave Bruce questioned what you were doing. You simply informed him that you’d place a permanent daily block on meetings between 2pm-4pm and that his office doors would be locked for that period of time as well.

When asked, Bruce will claim that as the day he fell in love with you.

You continued on that way for months, the world seeming to move in a blur around you. Your friends encouraged you to start dating again, but you just weren’t sure you could ever trust a man again. Besides, work was so exhausting most days that you were certain you’d simply pass out at the restaurant if you did go on a date. What a terrible first impression that would make.

It was a seemingly unremarkable Tuesday morning when the world came screaming into focus again.

‘All I wanna do is find a way back into love

I can’t make it through without a way back into love

Oh’

You’d been tutting about the office while Bruce attended a meeting with Lucius in the lower levels of Wayne Enterprises. You had just started printing off a report for Bruce’s next meeting when your printer ran out of paper. Normally this would be a none issue, except for reasons unknown to you, the night cleaner had developed a habit of putting the box of printer paper on top of the bookcase in the corner. A bookcase that stood nearly three heads taller than you. He’d been doing it for weeks despite your many conversations with him about it. You had tried bringing it up to Bruce, but he just blamed it on the language barrier and claimed it as a non-issue since he could just grab it for you.

It was just your luck that the printer would run out when Bruce was in the midst of a meeting and wouldn’t be back for at least another hour, probably two seeing as his meetings with Lucius always seemed to go over their allotted time slot. You’d been certain the office would have a step ladder hidden around somewhere, but after nearly twenty minutes of searching and being put on hold with maintenance, you’d given up. You could just wait till Bruce returned, but you had only printed half of the first of ten copies of a 40 page report that was required for his next meeting. You’d begun cursing everyone from the night cleaner for his obsession with moving the paper to the head of marketing and research’s assistants for not sending the reports yesterday when you’d requested them. Difficult problems required creative solutions, however the only thing you had that was light enough to drag over to the bookcase while giving you enough height to grab a ream of paper was your office chair. As the head of the companies employee safety committee you knew this was a terrible idea, as Bruce Wayne’s golden assistant the risk of letting your boss down for the first time ever outweighed the risk to your personal safety.

Even with the chair you needed to climb the bookshelf to actually reach the shelf the paper was on. Ream firmly in your grasp you moved to step back into the chair. As your foot touched the chair your hand slipped from the shelf and you felt yourself go backwards. You closed your eyes and braced for impact but it never came. Instead you felt arms wrap around your back and hip, securing you to a firm chest. You opened your eyes coming face to face with Bruce. Had his eyes always been that blue?

“What the hell were you doing.” He was angry, his blue eyes tightening with worry. A warmth flitted through you at the thought that he cared about your safety.

“Grabbing the printer paper.” You gasped out, bending to grab the ream that had fallen to the ground when you’d lost your grip.

“You could have injured yourself if I hadn’t shown up in time.” Bruce was still in your personal space and it was starting to overwhelm you. ‘Had he always been this… large?’ He seemed to tower over you.

“Yes, well I wouldn’t have needed to do all that if the cleaner would stop placing my printer paper up there.” You’d stepped back from Bruce, needing something to keep you from ogling your boss, you began fiddling with the printer.

“You could have waited for me.” He got in your space again, his voice softer now as he took the paper from your shaking hands.

“Do you understand how ridiculous it is to have to wait for the CEO of the company just to load a ream of paper into my printer?” You huffed out, turning back towards him now. The two stood there, chest to chest just staring at each other. You didn’t want to be the one to back down first, but you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep from blushing while staring into to his eyes.

‘What was with you today? You’d never had a problem going toe to toe with Bruce before. Now suddenly your acting like a horny school girl, daydreaming about climbing this man like-

“Fine.” Bruce stalked off to his office, an indiscernible glower on his face, leaving you to ponder what the hell had just happened. And why you seemingly out of nowhere had very inappropriate thoughts about your boss.

That night marked the first of many failed blind dates, agreed to only after having decided that it was your lack of a love life that had you daydreaming about your boss.

The next morning the box of paper was on the bottom shelf of the bookcase.

‘I’ve been watching but the stars refuse to shine

I’ve been searching but I just don’t see the signs

I know that it’s out there

There’s gotta be something for my soul somewhere’

Things between you and Bruce changed after that day. You’d never realized how comfortable you two had become with one another until you suddenly weren’t. You’d taken to communicating with him almost exclusively through emails and his calendar due to how awkward everything had become. He’d try to ask you about your life and you’d just clam up, not wanting to tell the object of your recurring lusty dreams about your string of failed dates. Failed because after less than two minutes you’d start comparing all of them to Bruce. The whole thing was getting so out of hand, you’d started seriously contemplating putting in for a transfer.

You’d been so lost in thought it took Bruce loudly clearing his throat for you to notice him standing in front of your desk.

“Yes, Mr. Wayne?” You’d resolved that complete professionalism was the only sure way to put everything back to normal. Or at least it will hopefully allow you to cling to some semblance of normal until you stop chickening out and put in for reassignment.

“I was wondering,” he seemed nervous, fidgeting with the snow globe I kept on the edge of my desk. “Do you have a date to the Christmas Gala?” Oh. He’s not? Is he? He couldn’t possibly-“I was just thinking if you didn’t have one, we could go together.” He was- “just as friends. We are friends aren’t we?” n’t.

“Yes, Mr. Wayne I suppose I’ve come to regard you as a” the word friend seemed to catch in your throat “friend over these last few months. But, to be quite honest with you, I wasn’t planning on attending the Christmas Gala.”

“You have too. In fact, I’m making it a mandatory requirement of your job that you have to be there. I’ll pick you up at 7pm.” He didn’t even give you time to respond before waltzing back into his office. It took all of 30 seconds for you to follow after him.

“You cannot force me to go to the gala Mr.Wayne.” You’d stopped in front of his desk, arms crossed over your chest.

“Why not?” He leaned back in his chair, smug smile glued to his face.

“Because I’m a human being with free will and, according to the Wayne Enterprises Employee Handbook, attempting to force me to attend would constitute harassment.” The smile slowly dropped from his face as he rose from his chair.

“If you truly don’t want to attend, I won’t push the matter.” He took slow, deliberate steps towards you, halting just far enough to be considered proper, but still close enough for you to catch the scent of his cologne. “However, it’d mean a lot to me if you did attend.” You’d been so distracted by his eyes and the seemingly sincere look on his face that you hadn’t even noticed he’d reached for your hand. You stood there utterly unmoored by the events of the past few minutes. You mentally shook your self out and opened your mouth to once again decline his invitation.

“Okay.” You were stunned with utter disbelief at the disconnect between your brain and your mouth. Bruce smirked.

“Perfect, like I said early I’ll pick you up around 7pm. If we’re going together, I really should match my tie to your dress. What colour is it going to be?” He’d started heading back to his desk.

“Mint.” You mumbled out. If you were going to be photographed on Bruce Waynes arm, even as just a friend, there was only one dress in your wardrobe that was even close to passable. Turns out you would get a second wear out of the bridesmaids dress from your sister’s wedding.

‘I’ve been looking for someone to shed some light

Not somebody just to get me through the night

I could use some direction

And I’m open to your suggestions’

The Christmas Gala was a disaster. The gala itself was wonderful, decorated to the nines, wonderful little hors d’oeuvres being passed around on trays that looked suspiciously like real silver. You however were a disaster. After entering the gala on Bruces arm, to the flash of what seemed like a million cameras, you’d been immediately pulled away to solve a crisis for the marketing assistants. The crisis turned out to be nothing more than a minor tear in her dress. One strategically placed safety pin later and you found yourself in the midst of the gala uncertain where Bruce had wandered off too.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing standing alone?” Oliver Queen. You’d had several run ins with him whilst working for Bruce.

“Oliver, not that it’s any of your business but I’m looking for Bruce.” You didn’t even bother glancing at him, lest you encourage his flirtations. “You haven’t seen him recently, have you?”

“Does Brucie really have you working on Christmas? He truly has no shame. If you were working for me-“ You cut him off before he could descend into what was sure to be a thinly veiled innuendo.

“We’ve talked about this Oliver. I’m not interested in you, professionally or personally.” You levelled your iciest look at him.

“Sheesh, can’t even give a guy a shot in the spirit of Christmas?” You harden your glare. “Fine, fine. I can take a hint sometimes.” He raised his hands in surrender before placing them on your shoulders turning you in a full 180. “Your beloved Brucie is right there, and it seems he’s decided to use the spirit of the season to rekindle an old flame.” You were met with the sight of Bruce and Selina Kyle in an arch way locked in a kiss.

“Oh.” Logically you knew you had no right to be upset. Bruce had made it abundantly clear the two of you were just friends. But if that were true, why did this feel so much worse than any breakup you’d gone through in your near 25 years of life. “Excuse me, I need to- I should check- I…” You left Oliver standing there as you rushed from the ballroom.

‘All I wanna do is find a way back into love

I can’t make it through without a way back into love

And if I open my heart again

I guess I’m hoping you’ll be there for me in the end’

You wrote your two week notice on the train ride back to your apartment. You were sure you looked quite the sight, shivering in your evening dress, makeup running down your face from the tears you couldn’t hold back. It took an hour longer than normal to reach your corner of Gotham, it gave you time to compartmentalize. Due to the Holidays you’d only have to work out one week of your two weeks notice, but that was still one week of having to see the man who had unintentionally shattered your heart. The worst part is you couldn’t even be mad at him. He’d done nothing to lead you on or imply that you were anything more than friends. You’d simply allowed your imagination to get the better of you and now here you were crying because you’d broken your own heart. You were so lost in your own heartbreak you failed to notice the man standing outside your apartment building until you literally walked into him.

“I’m so sor-“ you began to tumble out an apology as you lifted your eyes to the face of the torso you’d just slammed into, only to be met with achingly familiar blue eyes. “Bruce?”

“You left.” He looked upset, almost as if he were the one heartbroken. “You didn’t even say goo- Have you been crying?” His hand lifts to your face, thumb trailing under your eye. You have to repress a shudder at the feeling of his warm hand on your cold cheek. “Was it Queen? Did he say something again? I’ll have him bared from the building.” You step out of Bruce’s embrace.

“No, it wasn’t Oliver Mr.Wayne.” Professionalism, detachment, that was the only way you were going to get through this final encounter with the man you’d come to love. “It was a personal matter and it’s been handled. But since you’re here I might as well do this face to face. I’m resigning from my position as your personal assistant effective immediately. I’ve already emailed HR and-“

“No.”

“No? This isn’t a yes or no, situation Mr. Wayne. I’m not asking your permission, I’m telling you. I quit.” You’re astonished at the level of strength in your own voice.

“No, you don’t. And while we’re at it you’ll stop with this Mr.Wayne nonsense and go back to calling me Bruce.” He’s agitated now, angry at you.

“Mr. Wayne once again it’s not up to you. I’ve already sent my notice to HR, and accepted a new position elsewhere.” A small lie, but a seemingly necessary one seeing how hard of a time Bruce seems to be having with grasping the concept of your departure from his life.

“Then I’ll buy this new company you work for.” He’s invaded your personal bubble once more.

“Mr. Wayne you can’t just buy a corporation to stop me from quitting.”

“Bruce, and yes I can. I’m a billionaire if you’ve forgotten.” You’re nearly chest to chest at this point. “If this personal matter is the reason you’re quitting, then let me help. I’m sure with your brains and my money we can figure out a solut-“

“I’m in love with you, you idiot.” You push at his chest, anger fuelling your every movement now. “I’m in love with you and I didn’t relish the thought of having to sit in that office day after day watching you moon over Seli-“ He’s kissing you. Bruce Wayne is kissing you. Your to stunned to do anything other than let him.

‘There are moments when I don’t know if it’s real

Or if anybody feels the way I feel

I need inspiration

Not just another negotiation’

When he’d finally pulled away, self satisfied look on his face, you began to berate him. It was his turn to be stunned into silence while you cursed him out in the middle of the street (unbeknownst to either of you, one of the teens from your apartment block filmed the whole thing. It went viral by morning and Wayne Enterprises PR team had to work overtime to spin it in the companies favour). It would take the better part of a week for him to convince you that what’d you seen was Selina’s last ditch attempt at winning him back. It’d taken him another two months of failed wooing attempts to finally get you to agree to be his girlfriend.

‘All I wanna do is find a way back into love

I can't make it through without a way back into love

And if I open my heart to you

I'm hoping you'll show me what to do

And if you help me to start again

You know that I'll be there for you in the end’

The song fades out and your left standing in the middle of your kitchen lost in thought when a gentle chuckle penetrates your subconscious. You whirl around to find Bruce leaned against the entryway, smile lighting up his face.

“How long have you been standing there?” You could feel a blush beginning to bloom across your cheeks.

“Does it matter?” He advances on you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Yes, I need to gauge how embarrassed I should be.” You sink into his embrace, wrapping your own arms around his neck. He bends down and plants a gentle kiss on your lips.

“What were you thinking so intently about?” He gently sweeps an errant strand of hair behind your ear. It was your turn to plant a distracting kiss on Bruce’s lips, the last thing you needed was to inflate his ego. “Ah, so you were thinking about me.” He smirks when you break for air.

“I was not.” Your blush deepens, as if thinking about your husband was the most scandalous thing in the world.

“Mom’s always thinking about you. It’s kinda gross actually.” Jason sat atop your counter eating a cinnamon bun. “What do you even see in the old man anyway? You’re young, attractive and funny. You could do a lot better than Bruce.”

“Off my counter.” You pulled out of Bruce’s embrace to admonish your son. “And put that down, those are for brunch.” You swat his hand away from the fruit tray. He hops off the counter planting a kiss to your check, as he grabs the fruit tray and starts carrying it to the table in the adjacent dinning room.

“It is brunch though mother.” You startle a bit at the sound of Damians voice coming from beside you, nearly 15 years in and you still got startled by the way they all seemed to move in utter silence popping up from seemingly nowhere. At 5’4” your youngest was nearly eye to eye with you, a few more years and he’d tower over you like his brothers.

“Did you all collectively wake up and decided today was the day to disregard all of mom’s rules?” You move to turn off the speaker, mourning your few hours of peace and beginning to mentally prep for the chaos of having all 7 of the Wayne children in one dinning room. “Tim you better be putting that coffee into a cup.” You had a sixth sense for Tim’s caffeine habit and, unbeknownst to him, had been taking steps to curb it. Your most recent ingenious plan was slowly mixing decaf into the regular coffee. Your current batch of grounds was 60% decaf and only 40% caffeinated.

“Of course mom. I wouldn’t dream of breaking your rules.”

“Bullshit.” You whisper under your breath. “Aren’t you all currently breaking rule number 3?” The boys had the decency to at least feigen sheepishness.

“But it is brunch.” Duke, Stephanie and Cas shuffle into the kitchen together.

“Technically the wording of the rule does state that we’re not supposed to enter the kitchen until after brunch, which is why I entered the dining room through the hallway.” Richard leaned his head through the entryway between the two rooms.

“We get it, your mom’s favourite little suck up.” Jason slaps the back of Richards head on his way back into the kitchen. He loads his arms with various platters from the counter before turning back to his siblings. “Well come on half-wits, if you’re gonna break mom’s rules might as well make ourselves useful.”

“Jason, don’t hit your brother.” Your admonishment is half hearted at best, knowing full well your second eldest was likely to simply pretend to listen, while waiting till you turned your back to strike his older brother once again. “And Richard don’t even think about retaliating while he’s holding those platters.” You lean against the back counter running a hand through your hair, releasing it from its haphazard bun. You watch the other kids with the eyes of a well seasoned mother, fear for your antique dish-ware seizing you. You really should just invest in plastic dish-ware at this point, or perhaps you can commission Lucius to develop a line of indestructible dish-ware. There has to be a market for that, right?

Bruce comes to stand beside you, placing a mug of tea in your hands. You lean your head against his shoulder, a content sigh leaving your lips.

“No regrets?” He asks, as the sound of a squabble erupt from the dinning room.

“Not a one.” You smile. No, you wouldn’t trade this for anything. CRASH Okay, maybe you’d trade out whichever child just broke- CRASH - TWO plates. “Boys what did I just say about fighting with my antiques in your hands!”

[rtc-graphic-novel]

welcome to the graphic novelization of ride the cyclone

have you ever wondered what ride the cyclone would look like as a graphic novel? well, so have i. after about a year, i’ve finally decided to at least try to pursue this project. however, i don’t want this graphic novel to be something that only i want to see. therefore, I’m going to set up various polls from time to time to see what you would like to see. this will be a collaboration between me and anyone who answers the polls.

the current timeline for this project consists of a few stages, which will be listed below:

picking the “cast”. for each character, i will be making a poll of as many different actors/actresses that have portrayed the character. whoever wins the poll will be the inspiration for both the characters design and personality.

character sheets. i will be posting character sheets with basic information on each character after the poll is finished, so feel free to send in your hcs/characterizations of the characters

designing the main “set”. much like the characters, i will be making a poll of as many different sets of rtc that i can think of. whichever set wins will be the primary inspiration for the actual setting

writing the script of the graphic novel. while i will likely be sticking very close to the script of the show, i will be making polls on adding scenes, different choreographies, and much much more

creating a model of the main “set”. this will be worked on in tandem with four, however, will likely not be posted/as featured. i will however be posting progress shots along the way.

making the comic. this likely will be the slowest part of the project, but will ideally have the most content posted/created. i also will (hopefully) be making fanart during this project so that way there is still content to be consumed. the posting of pages/chapters will be voted upon in a poll when we are closer to this part of the project

about the author-

hello, i’m aster! (main- @forecast-disaster)

i primarily use they/them pronouns, but don’t really care what pronouns people use for me

please keep in mind that this is going to be a very long term project and be patient with me. i firstly have a lot of work cut out for me, secondly have little experience in making comics, and thirdly have a life outside of my project, which means that i may not be as speedy quick as a pro webcomic artist

[disney-is-mylife]

Now that we've covered most 80s and 90s "nostalgic" faves....

Don't @ me if your personal fave is not on here. This is MY list of films from MY childhood that I watched over and over, alongside Disney movies. Unlike my previous "nostalgia" polls (80s and 90s, if you want to see the results), the only "rules" here are: non-Disney and fully animated theatrical films. Hence why I included films outside the 90s and Dreamworks as well lol

Happy voting! ❤

A few honorable mentions that I couldn't squeeze into the poll:

An American Tail & Fievel Goes West (I just didn't watch them often enough in my childhood to have them Stick With Me, even though I definitely enjoyed them. But my older brother loved them dearly and talked about them a lot, and I appreciate them a lot more now!)

The Land Before Time (yes, I did watch those absurd sequels - up until 7 ish? - and enjoyed the original, but was never Obsessed like my other peers. Perhaps Jurassic Park traumatized me too much to be fond of dinosaurs lol)

The Brave Little Toaster to the Rescue (speaking of sequels, I remember the pet one?? pretty well? but not enough to call it a Childhood Fave)

The King & I (absolutely ATROCIOUS adaptation/film, btw, but my siblings and I delighted in quoting the stupid comic relief's lines because Kid Humor is broken lmao the amount of times our poor mother must have heard us go "I never want to see another mango in life" before dissolving into a fit of giggles.....)

Pippi Longstocking (idk I read the book and just was happy to see a beloved book character come to life)

Annabelle's Wish (definitely a STRONG honorable mention cuz I was oddly OBSESSED with the soundtrack for some reason??? but unlike other Obsessed With the Soundtrack movies, this one kinda.... disappeared into the ether of my memories, with only that One Song playing on loop when I think about it)

And finally: shout-out to We're Back, FernGully, Pebble and the Penguin, and Quest for Camelot for being weird-ass fever dream memories until I properly watched them after high school

Cats Don't Dance and Thumbelina are probably the closest things to "honorable mentions" on the poll, but I chose to keep them because I remember DISTINCTLY getting VERY upset over Darla Dimple's scheming in Cats Don't Dance, and feeling whimsically swept up in Thumbelina's fairytale romance. Whereas poor American Tail and Land Before Time didn't "latch onto" me the same way. Who can say why? Memories are a funny thing ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[blorbo-gerrymandering]

Ahahahahha! I WIN! Senchi Reigns supreme as the #1 blorbo according to this very fair and balanced tournament.

Btw in case anyone is curious on the exact behind-the-scenes of the final poll I'll put that below the cut.

Firstly, I gotta pat myself on the back for the idea of a personality quiz. I knew if I did a straight up gerrymandered poll against Jaylen she would have probably have BETTER odds cause people who (correctly) thought of my as the antagonist of this blog would vote for her because it was a vote against me. And from there people would easily coordinate 1 option to all vote for. So I hid the gerrymandering out of sight, and made the gimmick fun so that people didn't ignore it outright.

Now lets go over how exactly it was gerrymandered. Each answer to each question was either a Senshi answer or a Jaylen answer. To get Jaylen you had to get more of her answers then senshi's (so 3, since there are 5 questions)

On question 1 you will immediately see my trick. Despite there being 5 options only 1 gives Jaylen. I saw quite a few guess as much so I'll quickly list all the other Jaylen answers. for "feelings on necromancy" her's is "I'm literally a reanimated corpse", For the door you gotta say fuck you, and for my sentence you gotta pick eternal failure.

Keen eyed ඞmong you may realise that I skipped "pick one of the things I just made made up question" That is because all the answers to that question are Senshi answers. The question is purely to tilt the odds more in my favor, poke fun at uQuiz, and reference Gloopgolp World.

[iersei]

- (UPDATED) BRIBERY MASTER LIST -

would you like to help a couple of dedicated freaks commit some ~ voter fraud ~ ? then go vote for Glenn Close over at @sexiestpodcastcharacter !!!

not only would you be helping an underdog win against one of the biggest presences in the podcast fandom sphere but also please consider it would be really really funny if we managed to get one sexy hot mess to the very top through grit and desperation and a pure fucking commitment to the bit.

if that's not enough for you: consider all the spoils that you could receive! there were so many additions to the prize pool in the past day, that i figured i'd make a separate post :D we want this so bad :D

< BY VOTING GLENN RIGHT NOW >

Art Requests from:

@itsbrucey

@llumimoon

@mikeystrawberry

@abeinginsand

@thedndgoblinwholivesinyourwalls

@iersei

@justablah56

@the-unworthy

@tiredwiredanduninspired

@kenny-the-blink

@h1tmanmode

@button-drop

@roman-cup

@taylortheanimerangerteen

@aliothbuzzsawshark

@ike-mcswains-mortician

@mispelled

@watermelon-inks

@b1gwings

@woahbrochilll

Animal Pictures from:

@kronoose

@giraffeskull

@idkanameatall

@the-unworthy

@herdreamywasteland

@gumireblogs

Writing Requests from:

@not-soup-333

@junietuesday

< IF GLENN WINS >

@itsbrucey promised an oil painting of Glenn that she'll send to Freddie Wong (the person who plays the character on the podcast!) and to document the process! and a whole additional animatic if we win by at least 1%! and c'mon that PAINTING would be so funny -

@babacontainsmultitudes will compile and release a compilation of all of Carlos' speaking lines (up until WTNV episode 230) and a compilation of EVERY time Jon says "Martin" in The Magnus Archives!

@punctuation-completionist offered punctuation themed requests for wallpaper designs, a punctuation tier list, a q&a, and more!

and in the spirit of rock and roll! @nick-close, @mj-thrush-gxn, and @tomatoe-copia will each release separate fansongs!

additional glenn drawings from @citruscore, @nesperus, @kenny-the-blink, @zil-street, @planetaryplut0, @taylortheanimerangerteen, @mj-thrush-gxn, and @radisyn! writing requests from @pandulce135! @ike-mcswains-mortician will make an animatic! @worlds-okayest-stepfather has offered to make a close family cake! and @locke-n-k3y has offered to make a sexy drawing of him for the twelve days of christmas!

@raemeh will even draw both of them if they tie!

in terms of pure passion and community effort. we've already won. but the title would be nice.

[SO GO SHARE THIS AROUND AND VOTE FOR GLENN CLOSE OVER AT THE FINAL ROUND !!!]

[ihearthes]

Winner

Author: @ihearthes

Pairing: Harry x Reader Insert (2nd person)

Rating: Smut (NSFW, 18+ Only)

Word Count: 2627

“Okay, so Mum will be the guard, right?” Gemma nudges you, nodding towards Anne. “You and I will go after the boys’ flag.” 

“Why do I have to be the guard?” Anne pouts. 

“Duh,” Gemma laughs, “Harry and Michal wouldn’t dare hurt you, and Darren can be bribed.” 

“True,” you concur, ready to get on with the game. “I vote we hide our flag in the painted mailbox.” 

“Oh, good plan!” Anne claps her hands excitedly. While the boys wait inside with Gemma as a watchperson, you and Anne place the green flag in one of Anne’s art creations – an old mailbox she’s painted in multiple bright colours and set out for the birds to build nests in spring. 

As the boys, their flag already hidden, swoop from the house, Harry grabs you around the waist, pressing a light-hearted kiss to your nose. “You’re going down, darling!” 

“Not a chance!” You laugh, pushing him away. Moving to neutral ground, the teams square up. Anne, considered the most fair, blows a whistle to start the game, and everyone moves in seemingly random directions. Catching a glimpse of the purple flag under one of Anne’s sculptures, you race towards that side of the garden, but in a zigzag pattern so Michal and Darren might not know where you’re going. Harry is clearly hanging back as the guard. Behind you, you can hear Anne and Gemma trying to keep their respective boyfriends from the flag, using whatever means necessary. 

You know that’s the case for you too. Winning this competition is everything, so as you approach and get close to the flag, you get blocked by Harry who moves side to side, waving you away from the hiding place. 

“Love! It’s not this way. It’s over there,” Harry calls to you while pointing in a different section of the garden. “Look near the gnome.”

But you are well aware of his falsehood, knowing exactly where the flag is, but he continues to block you. 

“Come on, H. I’m just trying to take a little stroll over by Dotty.” You point to the cat lounging nearby. “She looks thirsty, and I want to make sure she knows where her water dish is.” 

Meanwhile, the yelling behind you continues. 

“They’re getting closer!” Gemma yells at you. “Do something!” 

Oh well. Nothing to lose but the game, right? It’s all about winning. Without warning, you grab the hem of your shirt and flash your covered tits at Harry. He freezes, mouth dropping open, which gives you just enough time to dart past him and grab the flag, holding it over your head. 

“WINNER!” You scream. Anne and Gemma squeal, and you meet them in the neutral ground as the three of you celebrate your victory with an enthusiastic hug. 

==========

Tesco. Your least favourite chore, especially on an evening when you simply want to cuddle up with your guy after a long day at work. In the car, your pout is apparent as you sit in the passenger seat with your arms crossed. 

“Don’t wanna shop,” you scowl. “Just wanna watch the ‘Succession’ finale with you.” 

“We don’t have any food,” Harry points out logically, making you want to punch him. So you do. “Ouch!” Pulling into the parking lot, Harry playfully pokes you. “How about a little competition?” 

Intrigued but not willing to give in just yet, you twist to him. He holds up the shopping list from the magnetic refrigerator pad, ripping it in half before handing one side to you. 

“First person back to the car with all of the items on the list wins.” 

Narrowing your eyes, you examine your list. “What if something is out of stock?” 

“You must replace it with a suitable substitute.” 

Mulling over the idea, you reach for the door handle. “Competition starts when we open the car doors or when we get to the store door?”

“Store,” he grins, and you both exit the car. 

Warily, you keep an eye on him to ensure he doesn’t run to the door to get there before you. Instead, he maintains that silly grin that doesn’t show his teeth, but keeps his dimple on display. At your feet jointly cross the threshold, you grab a basket and race to the dairy, picking up milk and butter at the top of your list. Recognizing that you’ve got to cross to the other side of the store for fish while most of Harry’s items are in the produce area, you smile at a teen girl with her friend as they look over the magazines. Passing them quickly, you mutter loudly enough for them to hear, “I cannot believe Harry Styles is in the produce section at my Tesco.” 

Giggling, you hear the girls gasp before their footsteps rapidly move in Harry’s direction. It’s not long before you’ve grabbed the last items on your list and raced to check out. A few minutes later when your dishevelled boyfriend approaches, he finds you leaning on the bumper. 

“WINNER!” You laugh, twirling in your victory, and he swats you on the arse as you get into the car. 

==========

“Come on, H,” Brad encourages, watching his client carefully, “one more wind sprint.” 

“Lighten up, mate,” Harry complains, having surpassed his usual workout time, his chest heaving with exertion. 

“Hmmm…” you pop your hip and put your finger on your chin, “I bet I can beat you this time around.” 

“Baby…” Harry starts, “No offence, but there’s no way you could keep up with me.” 

“Really? Put your money where your mouth is, pretty boy.” You glance at the trainer. “Will you start us?” 

“Absolutely,” Brad grins, and you’re confident he thinks you have zero chance. “Ready…”

You line up next to Harry, toes on the same line. 

“Steady…” Brad’s voice floats across to you.

“Did I tell you I bought new lingerie?” You whisper just as Brad shouts the final word, and you take off in a sprint, knowing Harry hasn’t even left the starting spot as his mind churns with thoughts of you in whatever you might have bought. 

At the finish line, you turn around just in time to spy him crossing the line behind you. 

“WINNER!” You jump up and down. “I beat you again, H! Sorry. Didn’t know I was dating such a loser.” 

Hands on his knees, Harry flashes his toothiest smile. “You sure you want to go there, love?”

In reply, you smile and walk away, shaking your hips more than usual. 

==========

Turning off the telly, Harry twists to face you in bed. “Up for a friendly battle?” He asks, and you don’t even hesitate. 

“Yes!” Bouncing to a seated position, you excitedly settle your legs underneath you. “What will it be? Chess? Scrabble? Cribbage?” 

“Oh, I was thinking of something a little more…interesting.” His eyebrow quirks as his dimple appears alongside his smirk. 

It never occurs to you that you’ll lose. After all, you’ve always found a way to beat him whatever the game. This will be no different. “Bring it!” You grin. 

“Okay. The rules are simple. We create challenges for each other. But they can only be challenges that can be done here in bed with what’s available within arms’ reach. First person who can’t complete the challenge loses.” 

Shit. You glance around the room where you had done a pretty damn good job of cleaning up earlier in the day. Nothing to be found. The nightstands include a glass of ice left over, some toys, lubricant, and little else. 

“Deal,” you declare. 

“Cool. I’ll give the first challenge. Ready?” 

Your body is already tingling in anticipation. What will he choose? There’s no doubt in your brain that it will be sexy as hell. Whatever it is. 

“Whistle with your fingers.” 

Hmmm…not at all sexy, but whatever. You can do that easily, and you prove it, sticking two fingers in your mouth and releasing a shrill whistle just like your father had taught you to do at footie games. 

Covering his ears, Harry nods. “Your turn.” 

“Fart with your armpit,” you challenge.

“Easy peasy,” he laughs, sliding his hand under his shirt and producing a pathetic slapping sound. 

“Lame!” you call. 

“Close enough.” 

Deciding to let it slide, you await his next challenge. 

“Take off your bra without taking off your shirt.” 

You scoff. “Really? That’s no challenge. I do that all the time.” Reaching behind your back, you release the bra hooks before reaching in each armhole and pulling out a strap. Within seconds, you feel your nipples brushing on the material of your shirt. Oh. Why does that feel so sexy suddenly when you’ve done it hundreds of times before, always feeling perfunctory? But you know it’s because Harry has watched the manoeuvre. 

Fuck. Be careful, you remind yourself. 

He tilts his head, indicating that it’s your turn to propose a challenge, and you try to think of something that will be deceptively sexy and still challenging. Your eyes roam the space, finally landing on the glass of ice. 

“Put a piece of ice into my mouth without touching the ice with your hands.” 

That damn eyebrow raises again, and he reaches for the glass. “My hands can touch the glass, right?” 

“Yes,” you agree, “Just not the ice itself.” 

“Easy,” he mocks, tipping a single piece of ice into his mouth. Leaning towards you, he kisses you, and you maintain a tight seal on your lips to prevent him from sliding the frozen water onto your tongue. This is where he’s going to lose, and then you’ll have your wicked way with him right here in the same bed where he’s lost the game. 

The sneak slides his hand under the hem of your shirt, wrapping his chilled hand around your breast which naturally causes you to gasp. Taking advantage, he slides his tongue inside and passes off the ice. 

Shit. He’s playing dirty. Bamboozling is your tactic! How dare he? 

But now the wheels are turning in your head. The cold from the ice juxtaposed with the heat of your mouth had created a zing in other parts of your body. How might that feel elsewhere? You keep the ice in your mouth, swirling it around. 

At your prompting, Harry scans you. “Strip without changing positions.” 

“How am I supposed to do that?” But as you ask the question aloud, you picture the best way in your mind. Removing your shirt is the easy part so you do that first, leaving your breasts unfettered. Still kneeling, you unbutton your shorts. Bouncing on the bed, you finagle the material, including your knickers, down your thighs and over your knees where it takes a few more bounces to get completely naked. Your inner workings are as wet as your knees are sore, and you’re slightly out of breath, but you’ve done it. You smile at him proudly, continuing to shift the ice around on your tongue, knowing that he’s just watched your breasts bounce as you performed the tricky act of undressing.

“Lie down and close your eyes.” 

Your challenge is simple, and he complies without question. Making short work of his zipper, you withdraw his cock from its hiding place, stroking it a few times before bending over him and applying your icy cold mouth to his most prized body part. 

“HOLY FUCK!” Harry cries. “FOUL! FOUL!” 

As your mouth slides on him, you notice that he’s enjoying the treatment despite his words of protest. Popping off him, you smile at where he’s looking at you. 

“Foul? Okay, I’ll stop. But when did you open your eyes?” 

“No fair! You didn’t say to keep them closed.” He looks decidedly unhappy, and you wonder if it’s because he thinks he lost or because your mouth is no longer enticing him.

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “Sorry I wasn’t specific. Won’t happen again.” 

Lying on his back still, Harry lifts his shirt. “Mhm. I think I’ve got the winning challenge. Nose on the butterfly and tongue on my belly button.” 

“Are you sure you want my tongue there? It’s still cold.” 

Harry slings his arm over his face. “Oh my god! You’re going to kill me!” 

“Probably one day,” you giggle. 

“Fine,” he acquiesces, “How about you ride me without lube?” 

“That’s your challenge?” Does he have any idea how wet you are? If you used lube now, you’d ricochet right off him and hurt your head in the process. 

As you prepare to straddle him by yanking his bottoms over his feet, he groans. 

“Who started this game?” He grumbles.

“I believe that was you.” 

“Stupid me. Okay. Here’s my final challenge. Ride me for five minutes and don’t come.” 

Tilting your head, you gaze at him from your perch astride his thighs. “I see,” you murmur. “So if I come first, you win.” 

“Exactly.” His eyes twinkle, and you process the challenge. 

You can do this. You’ll have to stop on occasion to control the build-up, but it’s possible. Biting your lip, you nod. 

“Deal. Siri, set a timer for 5 minutes.” 

The voice on your phone responds, “Five minutes. Counting down.” 

With that, you slide onto Harry, placing your hands on his ferns to get traction. Slowly, you raise yourself off his cock before taking your time inching back down, spreading your legs as wide as you can manage. 

Harry sucks in air through his teeth, which sets you wondering if he’ll come first. Will that make you the winner? Pleased at the thought that you could win that way, you renew your efforts, gliding up and down like you’re riding a – well, a Harry. Watching his face, you spy the lip bite that reveals he’s affected by the movement. Shifting your pace to be a little faster, you watch his hands clutch the duvet on either side of him. Hmmm… could you make him come first? 

It’s an academic question, and you tackle it like a scientist. If you adjust your pace, moving quickly and then slower, what effect does that have? Oh! Nice! If you rise to the tip of his cock and then slam back down onto him, does his jaw twitch? 

“Siri, how much time is left on the timer?” Harry inquires, clearly fighting his impending orgasm. 

“There is one minute and 42 seconds left on your five minute timer.” 

Whew. You’ve almost made – What? Wait. No!

Harry has grasped your hips, holding you still while he drives into you from below. It suddenly occurs to you that he’s been playing the game well all along. When his thumb shifts to your clit, you grit your teeth, determined to make it through the final minute. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you pant. 

“Exactly,” Harry replies just before he stops completely. 

Your insides are dripping and quivering, and you’re grateful that he’s stopped before the timer has gone off, but then he withdraws almost completely before slamming upwards into you. 

That’s your move! What the fuck?

He repeats the gesture, moving slowly and deliberately each time while his thumb continues to wreak havoc on your clit. Holy – 

Every muscle in your body clenches, starting from your vagina and moving outwards as your orgasm overtakes you. Your eyes roll back into your head, and as you tilt your chin to the heavens, you faintly hear the sound of Siri’s alarm ringing again and again. 

Just when the convulsions within you are starting to ease, Harry resumes his motions, and you’re back on a high within seconds, screaming his name just before you feel him shooting inside you, coating your walls. 

Collapsing on him, your sweaty chest pressed to his, you struggle to catch your breath just as Harry whispers, “Winner,” and you can hear his smile in the single word. 

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