#the cheese balls are banging

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 2: I’m The Son Of Rage And Love]

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, Jace is here unfortunately.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Jesus Of Suburbia” by Green Day.

Word count: 6.2k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

On the shores of the Susquehanna River, just north of Harrisburg, you find a Wawa with no gas: bags on all the pumps, cars with their fuel caps unscrewed and dangling. This is a common courtesy adopted en masse, like rationing during the World Wars or flying American flags after 9/11. It signals that a car has already been siphoned, no gasoline to be found here, no transparent flammable gold made of eons-past decomposition. You wonder if in a few million years, some unfathomable new apex species will be drilling your liquefied remains from the lightless layers of the earth to power their spaceships.

“Then we got sent to Joint Base Anacostia-Bolling,” Rio continues, gnawing on a piece of beef jerky, Jack Link’s in a red bag, teriyaki. Mercifully, whoever took the gas left some of the food. You are sitting in the parking lot, a quaint zombie apocalypse picnic, trail mix and Rice Krispies Treats, Herr’s potato chips and Tastykakes, warm soda sipped from plastic bottles. Luke and Rhaena are on the roof of the Tahoe. Jace is tearing the convenience store apart; he is convinced the employees must have kept a gun somewhere in case of robberies. You know he’s fine. You can hear him banging around and swearing in there.

“Then we built some schools and a hospital in Djibouti,” you say.

Aegon is baffled yet intrigued. “Djibouti…?”

“It’s on the Horn of Africa, near Ethiopia and Somalia.”

Luke snorts. “It’s nice of you to assume he knows where Africa is.”

“Huh.” Aegon tosses a green M&M into his mouth. “Djibouti is horny.”

Rio says: “And after that we spent like six months in Key West, and then we got shipped to Corpus Christi, where Chips very narrowly avoided getting impregnated by, marrying, and inevitably acrimoniously divorcing a Marine.”

Everyone laughs except Aemond, who gives you a teasing smirk. “Did you really?”

“Uh, no. He asked me out, I ghosted him, that’s as far as it went.”

“Why’d you ghost him?” Baela says, crunching on Utz Cheese Balls.

Aegon turns to Rio. “You want a Honey Bun?”

“You’re my Honey Bun,” Rio replies. Aegon smiles, his sunburn flushing darker.

You shrug, eat a handful of candied almonds, tell a half-truth. “I just didn’t like him enough.”

Rhaena yelps and points: a snake, black and maybe five feet long, is slithering across the parking lot. It passes beneath the shade of the Tahoe and then continues towards the bushes. A moderate amount of panic erupts.

Helaena glances up from her notebook. “Rat snake. Not venomous.”

Rhaena shudders. “Well, I still don’t like it.”

“Where were you stationed next?” Daeron asks Rio.

“Chinhae, South Korea. Wicked cool place. The people love Americans, the food is incredible. We were there to rebuild a pier that got wrecked in a typhoon. They have these cute dolphin-looking things, they’d swim right up to the edge of the water with fish in their mouths to try to give to us. Like cats bringing home mice for their owners.”

“Finless porpoises,” you say.

“Yeah, those. And after Korea, it was Diego Garcia.”

“Diego…what?” Rhaena says.

Aegon turns to Luke. “Try to act like I’m stupid for not knowing where that is.”

“Diego Garcia is a tiny little island in the middle of the Indian Ocean,” you say, a bit wistfully. “It’s technically owned by the British, but we share a base there, we use it for airfields and to refuel submarines, things like that. We were renovating the housing facilities for Camp Thunder Cove. At night we’d go to the beach, have a few beers, look out into the ocean and it was just…nothing. Wide open dark nothingness for as far as you could imagine.”

“That’s what we need now,” Helaena murmurs as she makes elegant cursive annotations in her notebook, the cover picturing different species of spiders, a pinktoe tarantula, a green lynx spider, a black widow. “Someplace to go where no one will find us.”

“So you’ve known each other since basic training.” Aemond’s remaining blue eye shifts between you and Rio, like he’s still trying to puzzle it out. There’s really no mystery. You’re friends, and you’ve always been friends, and you’ve never been more than friends, despite many of your fellow seamen’s jokes to the contrary.

You tear open a Slim Jim. Aemond rebandaged your hands this morning, though they barely hurt anymore; he touches you with a clinical, focused restraint. “Not quite that long. Rio enlisted a few months before I did, so we weren’t at Great Lakes together, and then carpenters do technical school in Gulfport, Mississippi near Biloxi, and electricians train at Sheppard Air Force Base in Texas. We met after we were both assigned to Naval Mobile Construction Battalion 1.”

“The First and The Finest,” Rio quotes the motto, grinning. “The original Seabees, founded during World War II. People called our battalion the Pioneers, which…is kind of ironic now.”

Aegon says, munching noisily on trail mix: “It’ll be so appropriate when you end up dying of a broken leg or the flu or in some other totally preventable way.”

“It’s so crazy, people died of anything back then,” Luke marvels gravely. “Tuberculosis, pneumonia, infections, starving, freezing, poisoning, getting kicked by a horse, giving birth…”

Rhaena shoots him a fearsome look and Luke shuts up, but of course he can’t take it back. There is a long uncomfortable silence punctuated only by birdsong and Jace’s muffled outbursts from inside the Wawa. Everyone looks at Baela, concerned, pitying, entirely unable to do anything to improve her situation. She is still eating Cheese Balls with one orange-stained hand, but the other rests on her belly.

“Clearly, the timing is less than ideal,” Baela says after a while, and if she’s terrified she doesn’t sound like it. “It wasn’t planned to begin with, but I was determined to make the best of things. I figured that I could still finish up my master’s degree with a baby, and Rhaena and our parents could help, and Jace would be done with law school soon, and it might be stressful for a while but we’d all get through it. And now…” She shrugs wryly. “Now all those plans are gone. Just gone.”

“You’re going to be okay,” Aemond says; a fierce low determination, a promise, a vow.

Baela smiles at Rio. “How old is your baby?”

He is caught off-guard, clears his throat, averts his gaze. Aegon looks over at him, alarmed. “Oh, he, uh…he’s little. Really little. He…” And Rio, so rarely at a loss for words, can’t continue. He eats his beef jerky instead.

You explain for him. “Sophie’s due date was right around the time the phones and internet went down. The last we heard, she was headed to Odessa to stay with Rio’s parents.” Aemond and his companions nod and don’t say what they’re thinking, but it’s swimming in their eyes: Sophie could have died, the baby could have died, they both could have died, you and Rio might be risking your lives to cross the continental United States for nothing. “Rio’s parents live in this…well, I joke around and call it a doomsday prepper cult, but that’s not really what it is, it’s just a farming community out in the middle of nowhere. People who have their own chickens and gardens, churn their own butter, don’t wear deodorant, make medicine out of tree bark…and a lot of them have kind of a survivalist mentality, they stock pantries and collect guns. So we figure we can reunite Rio with his family and then carve out lives for ourselves in relative peace.”

Rio reaches over to bump his fist against your shoulder. He is grateful. You punch him back, fairly forcefully; it’s like hitting a brick wall. Rio is as tall as Aemond but probably outweighs him by a hundred pounds.

You ask Aemond: “What’s in the Bay Area?”

“Our parents have a beach house. It’s up on a cliff by itself, pretty isolated, and surrounded by state parks. That’s where they were when everything shut down. I assume they’re still there.”

“Beach house?” Rio raises his eyebrows. “On a cliff?”

Rich kids. REALLY rich kids. “Your parents couldn’t just fly you to California in a private jet or something?” you say.

“Our pilots stole the jets,” Aemond replies, not realizing you were joking.

“Oh.”

“Jace and Luke’s parents were home in London, so getting there isn’t really an option, and then Baela and Rhaena…”

“Mum and Dad were on a business trip to Moscow,” Baela says. “I’d like to think they weren’t eaten, but…they were probably eaten.”

“I am so sorry,” you manage awkwardly.

A single zombie goes shuffling past the Wawa on the main street, a woman in a floral church dress, hair falling out of its curls, one pink high heel that clicks on the pavement, blood all over her mouth and chin. She notices the nine of you and begins to hiss, lurching closer. Daeron shoots her down and then trots over to retrieve his arrows, yanking them out of her cheek and eye socket. Rhaena winces. Aemond, distracted, bites into a Nature Valley granola bar. Aegon opens a can of Pringles, pizza-flavored.

Luke is peering through his binoculars, looking south towards Harrisburg. Faintly, you can see sunlight glinting off the gilded statue of a woman—the Spirit of the Commonwealth—that tops the green clay tile dome of the state capitol building. “What is that?”

“The sculpture?” you say.

“No. Farther away. Those big concrete towers, right on the water.”

Now you know exactly what he means…and you’d forgotten all about it. It’s an oversight you hope doesn’t cost too much. “That’s Three Mile Island. And we should leave so we can put more space between it and us.”

“Oh, fuck me…” Rio mutters.

Now everyone else is squinting to see the facility, barely visible from the Wawa. “Why?” Aemond asks you.

“Because it’s a nuclear power plant. And since the electricity is out everywhere, as soon as its backup generators fail, it will melt down and the whole area around it will become radioactive.”

Aegon puts two Pringles into his mouth so they look like a duck bill. “How do you know?”

“Did no one else go through a Chernobyl obsession phase in high school?”

“The professor mentioned it in one of my chemistry classes,” Aemond says, but he sounds doubtful; this must have been years ago, when he was consumed by med school prerequisites and had no space left in his brain for mere curiosity.

“Okay, listen up.” Rio knows the key points; he’s had to study different sources of electrical power. He demonstrates with dramatic hand gestures. “You have super radioactive reactor fuel, usually uranium or plutonium. You have a pool of water around it that circulates continuously. The heat of the fuel evaporates the water, which makes steam, which spins turbines, thus creating power. But if the external electricity fails, the water stops circulating, and the heat vaporizes all of it, and when there’s no more water the reactor fuel overheats and melts through the floor and poisons the earth, air, and groundwater. Any questions?”

There is a chorus of distressed chattering as people swiftly rise to their feet, clutching armfuls of snacks for the road. Jace comes trudging out of the Wawa, conspicuously not in possession of a firearm.

“No luck?” Daeron asks.

“Obviously not.” Then Jace snaps at Aemond: “Why were you stomping around all pissed off in the medicine aisle earlier? What were you looking for?”

“Nothing,” Aemond says quickly.

“Seriously, dude, what was it?”

“Nothing!”

“Damn, Plankton, calm down.” Jace shields his face from the sun, following Luke’s nervous eyeline towards the concrete cooling towers to the south. “What’s that?”

“Three Mile Island,” you say. “And we’re leaving now.”

Aegon yawns loudly. “I’m so full! Rio, can you carry me to the car?” And before anyone can tell Aegon to shut up, Rio has crouched down to let him scramble onto his back. Aegon cackles and waves his can of Pringles around as Rio sprints to the Tahoe. Now there are a few more zombies stumbling up the street, but you don’t waste arrows or bullets on them. Baela runs them down as she swerves out of the parking lot and drives northwest, heading towards Clarks Ferry Bridge where you will cross the Susquehanna River in a less populated area and commence the long slog to the Ohio border. She turns up the volume on the CD player: London Bridge by Fergie. Immediately, Rio, Aegon, Daeron, Rhaena, and Luke are singing along.

Baela checks the fuel gauge and looks at Aemond in the rearview mirror. “We have half a tank left.”

“We’ll find gas somewhere.”

“Aemond, it’ll be alright. Don’t worry about me.”

“You’re not going to be able to walk to California.”

Baela can’t think of a response. He’s right. Outside, the miles roll by in a blur of radiant, reptilian, early-summer green.

~~~~~~~~~~

Each time the interstate is blocked by a snarl of crashed vehicles or a backup too thick to navigate through—both common occurrences—Aegon digs the folded map out of his shorts and charts a new course for Baela to follow. This particular divergence might prove fortunate. The Tahoe has rolled into Distant, Pennsylvania, an Appalachian speck of a town, churches, coal mines, dilapidated old sheds. On the outskirts, perched on a hill and surrounded by oak trees, you find a small single-story brick house with a myriad of banners on the flagpole: an American flag, a Confederate flag, a black POW/MIA flag, Don’t Tread On Me, Trump 2024.

“Yeah,” Aegon says, scratching his scruffy chin as he peers up through the windshield. “I feel like they probably owned guns.”

“How do we know they’re not still home?” Baela asks warily.

“No car in the driveway,” Aemond observes. “No windows boarded up. They probably ran into trouble while they were out somewhere and never made it back.” Then he waits, the question upspoken. Are we going to risk it?

“We’re down,” Rio says after exchanging a glance with you.

Aemond turns to Jace. Jace—curly dark hair down to his shoulders, eyes on the house, chewing his full bottom lip apprehensively—doesn’t reply at first.

“You said you wanted a gun, Jace. All the Walmarts are cleaned out. This is what shopping looks like now.”

“Fine. Okay. Let’s go.”

Baela parks the Tahoe in the gravel driveway and tells Rhaena and Luke to stay inside with Helaena until the property has been cleared. The rest of you climb out, afternoon sun and mountain wind, dandelions crushed under your shoes. There’s a barn behind the house, you see now, gaps between the wooden boards and flaking red paint.

Luke is standing up through the open sunroof, inspecting the scene with his binoculars. “No movement.”

“We’ll take the house, if you want,” Rio tells Aemond. You’re clutching your borrowed baseball bat with bandaged hands, though it still feels unnatural; your M9 is in its holster in case of emergencies. Jace, Baela, and Daeron start plodding across the yard towards the barn. The grass is tall and mostly shaded, the oak trees decades old, massive, weaving a patchwork canopy of leaves.

Aegon trots over and slaps Aemond on his left shoulder, his blind side. Aemond says without looking at him: “I’ll go with them. You wait out here.”

Aegon drives an imaginary ball with his golf club. “I’m very sensitive to rejection, you know.”

“You’ll survive.” Then Aemond follows you and Rio to the house.

Rio tries the knob, locked. He doesn’t waste a bullet by trying to shoot the lock off the door, something that is far less reliable than movies would have you believe. He kicks it open instead, three tries and then the screws that secure the latch give way and the door swings ajar. You wait, counting seconds in your head, listening for growls or footsteps. There are no sounds except the breeze sighing through the trees, the warbles and wing flaps of birds. You steal a glimpse of the barn. Jace, Baela, and Daeron have unhooked the rusted iron latch and are venturing inside, Daeron last and glancing around watchfully, his compound bow already drawn. Rio steps into the house.

It’s hot, stifling, all the windows shut. But this has its advantages. You inhale deeply: no trace of decomposition, no black swampy nauseating rot, just dust and lemon Pledge and old-people staleness.

“Smells fine,” Rio says. And then, loudly: “Anyone home? We’re just looking for supplies. We don’t want to hurt you. If anybody is here, just let us know and we’d be happy to leave. And, uh, sorry about the door.”

You stay close to Rio as he sweeps through the living room—floral couch, television turned off, crosses on the walls—and then the kitchen, where bananas are turning black on the counter. Aemond is to your right; he’s placed you on his blind side. He trusts me, you think. When did that happen? You haven’t heard anything from Aegon or the barn. That must be going well.

In the bedroom, Aemond pulls the curtains open to let some light in. You search the drawers, the closet, under the bed. No weapons. The bathroom has 1950s-style pink porcelain, the dining room table is set for a meal that never happened. There is a deer head mounted on the wall, ten points, not bad.

“I can’t believe these fuckers didn’t have guns,” Rio says. “But where the hell are they?!”

You have always watched more than you’ve spoken. That’s why you’re good at shooting things, and why you’re still alive. Rio talks and you listen; Rio acts and you reflect. “Wait.” You turn to Aemond. “Did you see a cellar outside?”

“A what?” He is perplexed. “Like…a wine cellar…?”

“No. A regular cellar.” You walk back into the midday heat and circle the house, Aemond and Rio hurrying to keep up. Over by the barn, everyone else is stretched out across the grass, joking, relaxing, Baela with her hammer on the ground and her hands laced over her belly, Helaena cradling a praying mantis in her palms and showing it to Rhaena. Aegon is teaching Luke how to smoke with a pack of Marlboro Golds he found at the Wawa. Luke, game yet somewhat anxious, takes a puff and then immediately coughs until he starts retching.

“I want to try too,” Daeron says.

Aegon shakes his head, taking a nonchalant drag off his own cigarette. “Nope. Not for you. Illegal. You’re under eighteen.”

“I want to try!”

“Shut up, you can’t even vote.”

“Nobody can vote, the government has collapsed!”

You find it at the back of the house: a pair of large metal doors leading down into the underground cellar. The weeds have begun to encroach on them, wild violets and black nightshade.

“Awesome!” Rio says, lifting the doors open one at a time, the hinges shrieking. They’re heavy, but they cause him no trouble. Underneath is a staircase and a room dark with shadows; you can see a light switch that won’t work, the electricity long gone. Rio unclips the flashlight from his  belt—taken from Saratoga Springs, waterproof with a 90-degree head so it doesn’t roll, known as a Moonbeam—and ducks down into the cellar. It’s a small room, easy to clear, and then you can start inventorying your findings. Rio is laughing, ecstatic. There is a workbench, a coil of thick rope, an array of tools—screwdrivers, wrenches, hammers, saws—some homemade leather wallets and holsters, cans of Brillo color spray…and then a treasure trove of weapons mounted on the walls.

You scan the collection. “We got Marlin .22s, we got Ruger Magnums, we got Remington 12 gauges, we got hunting knives…and one Glock 20.”

“A lot of ammo under here, Chips,” Rio says, yanking boxes out from beneath the workbench and stacking them on the floor, organized by caliber.

“No scopes?”

“Not that I’ve seen yet.”

You lift one of the Remingtons off its hooks and examine it: dusty, unloaded, vines of rust on the receiver. “We’ll have to go through and sight all of them. I don’t think they’ve been used in a while.”

“That’ll be a lot of noise. But here’s the place to do it, I guess. Low population, and we’re not staying.”

“Exactly.”

“Sight them for close range, like ten yards?”

“Yeah, that should work.”

Aemond says, eyebrow raised: “I didn’t know the Navy used shotguns.”

“Everyone hunts where I’m from.” You put the Remington down on the workbench then pick up the Glock, a box of 10mm ammo, and a can of Brillo. “Come on. Grab one of those hammers. I’ll show you how to shoot.”

You bound up the cellar steps and out into the shade of the oak trees, not stopping until you are at the edge of the property. Across the backyard where he lounges on the grass, Aegon gestures to the barn and asks Luke: “What’s in there anyway?”

“Nothing. Saddles and a few dead horses.”

“Oh, dynamite, I gotta see the dead horses.”

Jace says: “Aegon, man, what is your diagnosis?”

You use the can of Brillo to spray a large chocolate-colored circle onto a tree trunk, then make another two feet above that. You count your steps as you walk back towards Aemond: approximately ten yards. You load a single bullet in the Glock, aim for the bottom circle, and fire. A hole appears at the very edge of the circle. You take the hammer from Aemond and give the rear sight a few knocks. “This isn’t recommended, but it usually works.”

Aemond is smiling. “Okay.”

You load the full magazine and try again. The bullet hits closer to the middle this time. “Here. Both hands.”

Aemond takes the Glock but hesitates. “Is…my eye…?”

“It shouldn’t be a problem. A lot of people close one eye anyway when they’re aiming. I always do.”

He is relieved. “Oh. Good.”

You tap the underside of the Glock. Aemond obediently lifts it. “The line of sight is slightly higher than the barrel, so you have to account for that. And then gravity will pull the bullet lower, and the longer the range of the shot, the more it will drop. So when you fire, the barrel should be angled upwards just the tiniest bit, not horizontal.”

“Like throwing a football.”

“Yeah, exactly. It’s an arc, not a straight line. At first it’ll feel like you’re trying to do all these calculations in your head, and it will be overwhelming, but then it becomes muscle memory and you don’t even have to think about it.” Jace, Baela, and Daeron are now eagerly crossing the yard to help Rio carry the guns out of the cellar and receive their own lessons. “Alright, we’re going to start with a really terrifying enemy. I want you to shoot that tree.”

“What a formidable tree.”

“Aim for the top circle. And if you hit it, then you can practice on Jace.”

Aemond laughs, butter-yellow sunlight filtering down through the trees, the shadows of leaves flickering over his skin, a mosaic of flesh and earth. You ghost your open hand down the length of his arm as if adjusting the angle. Really, you just want to touch him, to feel his warmth and his stillness, the tension of his muscles, the rhythm of his pulse. He’s watching you, lips parted, goosebumps rising beneath your fingertips. Birds are chirping, sparrows and blue jays. High above, squirrels leap and scrabble through the branches. You pull your hand away.

“Look through the sights. The rear sight at the back of the barrel is shaped like a U, and the one at the front is an I. Is the I in the middle of the U?”

“I have no idea.” A pause as he reconsiders. “Yes.”

“Right, it is, and the bullet should go exactly where you want it to because I already sighted that Glock. I’ll show you how to do it later. Now shoot the tree.”

Aemond aims but doesn’t pull the trigger. He’s nervous; he doesn’t want to seem incompetent, pathetic. You imagine it is rare that he isn’t the one with the solutions.

“Hey,” you say softly, and he looks over at you. “You don’t judge me for not knowing how to cure people. I won’t judge you for not knowing how to kill them. Deal?”

Now he’s smiling again. “Deal.” He returns his attention to the tree, lets a few more seconds tick by, and fires. He hits one of the branches. “Oh, that is…embarrassing.”

“It’s not that bad. You hit something. Try again.”

More seconds, more birdsong, more wind through the grass and the leaves. Aemond’s second bullet pierces the trunk about six inches above the top circle. “Yes!” he cheers, boyish triumph on his scarred face.

You resist touching him. It is startlingly difficult. “That was really good.”

He lowers the Glock, and you click the safety on for him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you say.

“Why’d you ghost that Marine at Corpus Christi?”

“I told you. I didn’t like him enough.”

“Okay, sure, but actually. What was wrong with him?”

“I’ve known you for like twenty-four hours. You think you’ve earned all my secrets?”

“Well, not all of them,” Aemond says, grinning. Rio is showing Jace, Baela, and Daeron how to load the .22s. Aegon is swinging his golf club in circles as he follows Luke into the barn. Helaena and Rhaena are giggling as butterflies land on their outstretched fingers. “But our time together could be very finite. It seems unwise to waste it by trying to preserve some amount of mystery.”

“You’ve convinced me.” You want to be known by him, you want to be understood. That is a frightening thing to realize. It’s like handing a stranger the keys to your home. Will they visit graciously, or will they rob you, ruin you, burn you down? “I haven’t seen many examples of love working out for people. I’ve seen couples who hated each other, and couples who split up, and a lot of women having to raise kids all on their own and turning into these…bitter, exhausted, hollowed-out versions of themselves. I never wanted that to be me. And for as long as I can remember, I’ve felt like that was just one wrong choice away from becoming my life. I don’t want men to disappoint me. So I don’t give them the chance.”

You think Aemond is going to say something cheap, flirtatious, awful: Give me a chance, baby. I won’t disappoint you. Instead he says: “I haven’t known many happy couples either. I mean…Luke and Rhaena would be the closest, I guess. But they’re so young. I’m not sure if they count.”

“Rio and Sophie seem happy. But they’ve also barely seen each other in five years.”

“It does things to you, when you start to believe love might be doomed to end or tear you apart or turn to hatred. If it’s just an evolutionary mirage to trick us into reproducing, what’s the point of giving someone that power over you?”

“Exactly.”

“I feel like one of us should be trying to talk the other out of being so fatalistically cynical.”

“Yeah, totally. Okay. You talk me out of it.”

He chuckles. “No, I don’t think I can. You talk me out of it.”

You’re watching Aemond, realizing you like everything about him—his smirk, his height, his hands, the clear direct blue of his eye—and wondering what the hell you’re going to do about it. Then there is a scream from the barn.

What?? Who??

“Luke!” Aemond shouts, and takes off across the yard. Now you’re all running, even Rhaena and Helaena who don’t have anything to fight with. Everyone is yelling, their lungs heaving in wild June air, their shoes pounding against the earth.

Inside the barn, on a wooden floor strewn with hay, Luke is shrieking as he tries to push a zombie off of him with his bare hands. She’s an older woman, grey hair in rollers, yellow nightgown stained with gore. Something has happened to her feet. Both of her legs end in exposed tibias and flapping strips of purplish, rotting skin. Aegon is beating her with his golf club, but he can’t get a good shot at her head. If he accidentally hits Luke, he could make it worse, he could stun him or even knock him out, and he’ll be bitten in the few seconds it takes anyone to remove his undead assailant. Rio lunges to grab the zombie. She snaps at him with bared teeth and he retreats, drawing his M9.

“Don’t shoot!” Jace is saying. The air is putrid: dead horses, dead people. “You’ll hit Luke!”

Your own M9 is suddenly in your hands, the safety clicked off, one eye closed. “Luke, don’t move.”

“Kill it, kill it!” he pleads hysterically, pushing the zombie as far from him as he can, his palms sinking into the decomposing bruise-colored tissue of her chest and throat.

“Don’t shoot!” Jace orders, but you ignore him. He fades into the background with all the other frenzied voices. Your finger on the trigger, a boom like thunder, bits of bone and brains against the wall. Luke shoves the corpse away, trembling, sobbing. Rhaena flies to him.

Aegon spots the fresh blood on Luke’s right hand and panics. “Is that a bite?!”

Luke notices the wound for the first time. “I don’t know!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?!”

“I don’t know!” Luke wails, tears flooding down his pink face.

“I thought you cleared the barn!” Aemond roars at Aegon.

“It fell out of the loft, we didn’t think anything was up there!”

Luke is blubbering: “I hit my hand against one of the stalls, I think that’s how I cut myself, I was just…I was pushing it away…I didn’t think it bit me…oh my God, I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t want to die…”

“It only takes once, kid,” Rio says grimly, fidgeting with his M9, looking at Aemond as if for permission.

“Don’t touch him!” Jace hisses, stepping in front of his brother and clutching his bat. “No one is going to hurt him, it’s not a bite, you can’t prove it’s a bite!”

You reach for Luke’s bleeding hand. “Can I see—?”

“Get away from him!” Jace swings his bat. The tip of it connects with your skull, just a graze fortunately, but still enough to rattle you. Rio charges Jace, tackles him to the floor, starts throwing punches. Baela has apparently forgotten she’s heavily pregnant and is trying to pull them apart. You join her.

He’s going to demolish Jace. He’s going to break his nose or jaw or something. “Rio stop, I’m fine, stop!”

There is another gunshot, a cataclysmic earth-shaking explosion that makes the pain in your head surge from a ripple to a wave. Aemond is aiming his Glock skywards; a hole has appeared in the roof of the barn. “Stand up!” he commands. Rio and Jace reluctantly comply. You help Baela to her feet.

“Aemond,” Jace says. “You have to stop them, they’re going to kill Luke—”

“No one is killing anybody.” Aemond lowers his Glock. “Maybe he’s been bitten. Maybe he hasn’t been. And even if we knew for sure that he was going to turn, we don’t just execute people like this, threatening them when they’re terrified. We have humanity. We have compassion.”

There is a silence that strikes you as heavy, laden, holding meaning that escapes you. Aegon points at Luke. “So what the fuck are we going to do about him?”

“We’ll tie him up,” Aemond decides.

“What?!” Luke exclaims.

“There’s rope in the cellar. We’ll tie his arms and legs so he can’t do anything and keep him like that for a few days until either his hand heals up or he turns into a zombie. Someone will always have to be with him to help him eat and take a piss and also…you know. Deal with it if he turns.”

“I’ll stay with him,” Rhaena says immediately.

Aemond’s voice is now gentle, sympathetic. “I don’t think you want this.”

“If Luke has to die, I should be the person with him.”

“You’ve never had to put someone down before.” And in this statement lives another: Aemond knows what that feels like. Aemond has had to kill someone when they turned.

“I’ll stay with him,” Rhaena says again, this frail harmless doe-eyed girl, and you see a steeliness in her that you hadn’t thought existed.

“Okay,” Aemond relents. “When you’re asleep, Jace or I will take over.”

“It’s not a bite,” Jace murmurs, like he’s trying to convince himself.

“We’ll all find out soon enough,” Rio says, casting him a glare, then goes to fetch the coil of rope from the cellar.

Aemond cleans and bandages the wound on Luke’s hand. Then the weapons, ammo, and newly immobilized Luke are loaded into the Tahoe. Aemond asks you once everyone else is inside: “How’s your head?”

“Fine, I think.”

“Hurts?”

“Just a little.”

“Dizzy? Double vision?”

“No, nothing like that.”

He takes a quick look, parting your hair with his fingertips, feeling gingerly for blood and swelling. And this is becoming a serious problem: every time he touches you, you want more.

“Aemond…who did you have to kill?”

He doesn’t answer. For another moment his hand lingers by your temple, then Aemond turns away and climbs into the Tahoe. This time, no one sings along to the next song on the mixtape. Heads rest on windows, eyes are vacant and misty. Baela steers the Tahoe westbound on Route 1004, the Chainsmokers drifting through the speakers: All We Know.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Pick a card, any card,” Aegon says when he’s done shuffling. He fans out the entire Uno deck face-down and offers it to Rio, Aemond, and Jace. They each select a card, then Aegon picks one for himself. Finally, he holds out the deck to Luke, who stares up incredulously from where he’s still bound with rope and sitting on a curb in the parking lot of a Burger King just outside of Yarnell, Pennsylvania.

“Are you serious?”

“You’re an adult male, aren’t you? You think being in the middle of transforming into an undead murder machine exempts you from gasoline siphoning duty?”

“I’m fine!” Luke insists.

“Great. Then pick a card.”

“I can’t move my hands, you idiot.”

“Pick it with your mouth.”

“I hate you.” Luke bites his card of choice and waits with it clasped between his teeth, glowering.

“I want to pick a card,” Daeron says cheerfully.

Aegon refuses. “No. Too young. A baby.”

“Aegon, I’m seventeen!”

“Can’t enlist, can’t do jury duty, can’t buy lottery tickets, can’t sign up to drink gasoline. Okay, everybody show their cards.”

“I got a three,” Jace says, then yanks Luke’s card out of his mouth and reads it. “He got a skip.”

Aemond’s card is a nine, Rio’s a five, Aegon’s a reverse. “That means you lose, Jace,” Aegon announces, admittedly rather gleeful. “You had the lowest number.”

“This is bullshit, I had to siphon last time!”

“Then stop picking bad cards.”

“Jace, I can do it,” Aemond says.

“And get to be the martyr, as usual? No thanks. Give me the damn hose.”

Aegon roots around under the Tahoe seats and produces a long, semitransparent siphoning hose. “All the ones with the little pump attachments were sold out everywhere by the time we thought that might be useful,” he explains to you and Rio.

“That sucks, Jace,” Rio says. “I mean, literally, it sucks.”

“Next time we cross a bridge, I’m pushing you off it.” Jace takes the hose from Aegon, pops open the gas cap of the Dodge Ram 3500 you’ve found, and threads the hose down into the tank. He sucks on the other end and then shoves it into the Tahoe once the gasoline starts flowing. The fuel gauge was hovering just above E. Hopefully you can get at least a few gallons out of the Ram, another fifty or a hundred miles, maybe even two hundred, enough to get you across the Ohio border.

Jace is bent over and vomiting gasoline onto the pavement. Rhaena and Baela sit with Luke as Aemond feels his forehead and peers into his eyes. Daeron accompanies Helaena as she goes to scavenge inside the Burger King, her burlap messenger bag slung over one shoulder. Rio is now holding the siphoning hose and watching the liquid gold pour into the Tahoe, his smile growing with each passing second. Your eyes fall on Aemond and stay there, his careful hands, his brow knitted with concentration.

A whisper from behind you: “We could fake date to make him jealous.”

You whirl to see Aegon, mischievous smirk, neon green plastic sunglasses. “That is a super generous offer and I appreciate the thought you put into it, but no.”

“Why not?”

“It’s dishonest. It’s manipulative. If something is going to happen with Aemond, I want it to be real.”

Aegon sighs. “No, you’re right, it was a dumb idea. I just figured I have a lot of experience.”

“Experience with what?”

“People pretending to love me.” He flashes a strange, sad smile, then follows Daeron and Helaena into the Burger King.

[rottenblur]

Say cheese|A.ANDERSON

Summary: An innocent gift of a polaroid camera is cute in thought, but of course Abby couldn’t keep it innocent for long. 600 words (very quick written)

Warnings: PWP???? Ish established relationships. Strap use. Abby calling the strap her cock , choking, overstimulation mention, strap sucking mention, polaroid nudes (she takes pics of you as she is fucking you with the strap) Abby calling you baby. Crying during sex,(due to overstimulation),,,,abby enjoying it.

Whoever thought giving you and Abby a polaroid camera was a good couple gift, you wish they could see you now.

Abby had your legs spread, fucking you for an hour at this point. In and out, in and out, your brain fucking gone.

“Abby please.” You say as she pounds into you with no mercy. “What baby? ‘s it too much?” She mocks you as she takes one hand off your chest, moving it down to your clit.

The bedsheets wet with sweat and your own slick, her hips banging off your ass in every thrust, leaving the room with a echoing wet sound.

She smiles at you picking up her pace with her hips, the tip hitting your cervix bound to be bruised tomorrow. Her fingers work lazy circles, on you, her boxers wet from you. Her arms and stomach wet with sweat, the whole room smelt like pussy and sweat.

“You’re doing so good for me baby.” She says watching the strap go in then out of you, how she wasn’t tired was confusing, you couldn’t understand it, to be fair you couldn’t understand anything right now.

You whine back to her not being able to make out words, your mouth open and hands placed above your head. You watch the way every time she thrusts in, her face tightens up as if she can actually feel inside you.

“Drunk all over my cock, so sweet.” She says, following it with a grunt as she speeds up her fingers. This pulls tears to your eyes and a moan from your throat. The overstimulation from cumming so many times was too much.

A wide smirk comes on Abby’s face when she sees your tears, she leans over, strap still fucking into you, grabbing the camera. “Wait Abby, what?” You try to see through your blurry, tearful eyes, then you hear a click followed by a flash blinding your eyes.

“So fucking sweet.” She continues fucking you, one hand on the camera the other rubbing tight circles on that sweet ball of nerves. Everything is sore from your neck down to your knees. Abby had a thing for you sucking the strap, the way your eyes filled with tears as you choked on it was gold to her.

Your face tightens up, as you feel yourself coming to your climax, tears still streaming down your face. Click then flash, you were scared to see how desperate you looked crying while Abby fucks you through your orgasm.

“You’re so pretty when you cry oh god.” She looks at you as you clench around her, grabbing her arm for support. She knocks your hand off, putting her’s tightly around your neck with the perfect amount of pressure. She picks up the pace, pulling more tears out of you, click then a flash.

She lays the camera back down, putting her fingers back on your clit as you whine to her. “Abby, ‘m gonna.” Her fingers matching the pace of her hips. “I know baby, cum for me, cum all over me.” You do, releasing all over her, your mind fuzzy as she fucks you through it till you’re heavy breathing and dripping down to the sheets.

She pulls out, taking her hands off you, neck sore, hole empty and achy. “So fucking pretty.” She says looking at the now developed pictures.

The next morning she sent you out to get the both of you coffee, it was nice, it was your time alone and Abby knew you loved it. She gave you her wallet as she insisted on paying. You get to the coffee shop, reach into her wallet to get the cash and pay but you drop it.

Three polaroid pictures fall out and onto the floor. You hand the cash over, stepping to the side to wait for the drinks you take a look. Hey, the two of you took more than just those pictures last night. It couldnt be them. You see yourself glossy, tear filled eyes, nude hickey covered body with Abby’s hand on your neck. You dont even dare to look at the other two.

A/n: MERRY CHRISTMAS (to those that celebrate it.) i didnt make it hella clear that it’s Christmas time in this just for the people that don’t celebrate it!! I got my inspo for this from “good decoration” by frank ocean hope yall like it bye bye

[claimedcrossbows]

Served! Sanji x Fem!reader

Slight anime spoilers/foreshadowing.

This is OPLA Sanji though.

-

You were laid down in your quarters trying to keep the vomit down after you had been sick the entire night. Your head was killing you and you were simply not ready for whatever chaos was happening downstairs, but you had a kitchen to run, so you slowly got dressed, and slowly made your way downstairs to absolute anarchy.

“Y/n! We’re out of crawfish and it’s tonight's specials!” Your little sister says immediately approaching you.

“How did we run out of crawfish?” You groaned.

“Rasha forgot to order more and the nearest port ship is still a day away.” She explains frantically.

“Substitute it for lobster in the mac and cheese, and 86 the Crawfish Etouffe Balls.” You demanded hoarsely your vocal chords still fried from vomitting all night.

“Y/N are you okay? You look awful.” Your sister says looking at your haggard appearance and your overall sweaty pale face.

“Great, now go do as I told you, and make it quick rumor has it a critic is dining with us tonight!” You say the last part loud enough to attract your team of cooks attention.

“YES CHEF!” A chorus of voices ring out as you nod and all but wobble your way to the fridge for some much needed seltzer water.

Of all the days for one of the most known critics on the grandline to come pay your restaurant a visit it just had to be today when you could barely stand up right.

Fortunately for you you had a great team of chefs under your command as you watched them all hurry about prepping and making numerous dishes that looked about as masterful as could be.

You were by far one of the best restaurants on the grandline, your restaurant resided on a small beach in a lighthouse where many ships sailing by frequented your restaurant when they were in need of a good meal and conversation.

And you were no doubt one of best female chef’s the grand line had ever seen.

At just age 7 you had won your local cooking competition taking home a wonderful gift basket of exotic spices that had eventually lead you to your well known name of The Spice Queen.

You specialized in Cajun styled cooking, but you could cook just about anything in any style, you were well versed in cuisine having read numerous cookbooks throughout your life, you even knew quite a few special recipes to help revitalize sailors who were in need of more than just a flavorful meal.

Many pirates sought you out after large scaled battles that left them in tatters, if anyone asked any of those pirates what saved their lives and healed their wounds, they would name you.

Which is how you got your second name, as The Crock Pot Doc.

Yep, one taste of your special famous soup was said to cure a man on his death bed.

But none of that mattered if you couldn’t pull off a perfect dinner service tonight of all nights. You had to make sure this critic was absolutely blown away and you weren’t about to let a little food poisoning stop you.

So you chugged your seltzer water and began mincing and julienning veggies.

That was until a loud bang echoed throughout the entire lighthouse followed by a bunch of screaming and crying.

You quickly put down your knife and made it to the dining area where you absolutely could not believe your eyes at what had unfolded before you.

“WE NEED THE CROCK POT DOC, BRING THEM,PLEASE HURRY!” A man in a straw hat yellled looking around the room of patrons and chefs who had also exited the kitchen to see what was happening.

You stepped forward trying to process the sight before you, a group of pirates had barged into your restaurant all with desperate faces and who you could only assume was the captain carrying a orange haired woman who looked to be on the brink of death.

“I’m her, what the hell is going on??” You asked trying to wrap your head around this and the current state of your dining room that has been nearly destroyed by their barging in.

The straw hat man hastily made his way toward you carrying the woman with desperate eyes.

“I’m Monkey D. Luffy, and you have to save my friends life.” He said shakily but with a determination you could respect.

You laughed in disbelief, this man trashes your dining room on a special night and expects you to just save his friends life??

“And why would I do that?” You scoff looking at the state of the girl who looked worse than you felt.

“Because I’m the man who will be king of the pirates, and I promise I will pay you whatever you need and more if you save Nami’s life.” He says unwavering.

A few of your cooks scoff and laugh, “King of the pirates? This kid?” One of your cooks laughs.

You frown, “I don’t work for free, especially not when I have a important critic frequenting my restaurant tonight, there’s a doctor village not to far from here maybe a day’s travel at the Drum Kingdom-”

“She doesn’t have a day!” Luffy stresses.

Your frown deepens, your about to protest before a wave of nausea makes you wince. “Look I don’t have time for this I’m sorry but you need to leave-”

“Madam.” A voice behind this so called Captain Luffy rings out and you look past the kid and sees a tall blonde man in a black suit stepping forward, his face tense but gentle as he addressed you. “I understand your busy, but she will die if she doesn’t receive some kind of medical attention and I hear your not only one of the best cooks on these seas, but your cooking even rivals most medicines prescribed by doctors.” He says as he walks up to you.

“And you are?” You ask raising a skeptical brow.

“Sanji, The best cook in all of the east blue and maybe the world Mam’.” He says confidently as he shoots you a wink.

You immediately laugh, “Wow you have a lot of nerve to say that to my face.”

His face drops as he immediately shakes his head, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to offend you I just-”

“Well you wouldn’t be a good cook if you weren’t cocky, so there must be some talent behind your words.” You say crossing your arms. “Your Sanji, Chef Zeff’s prodigy I assume.” You say watching his eyes widen.

A small smirk crosses his lips, “Ah, so you’ve heard of me madam?” He says flirtatiously.

“Yeah, I heard a flirty handsome chef trained by Chef Zeff himself has been making his name in the culinary world as one of the best chef’s out here.”

“Oh really?” He says his smile widening.

“Yeah, but it looks like they only got the flirty part right.” You smirk back watching his face drop.

“Sanji’s the best cook on the grandline!!” Luffy immediately defends.

“Yet he can’t make a healing dish?” You interject.

Luffy grunts in annoyance, “Look we don’t have time for this Nami’s dying will you help us or not!?” He shouts angrily.

“N-”

“You say a food critics coming tonight right?” Sanji suddenly says.

You turn to him and nod, “Yes and I need to get ready-”

“You look sick, how do you expect to impress a critic and you can barely stand up right?” He asks staring directly into your eyes.

“How the hell do you know i’m sick?” You questioned.

“I know when a lady’s suffering.” He says gently.

You didn’t know how to respond to that so you just let him continue.

“So how about a deal, I help lead your cooks tonight and pull off an exsquisit meal to impress the critic, and you in turn heal my friend?” He says.

“And what makes you think you can make any of my dishes East Blue Boy?” You challenge, honestly intrigued by the cockiness of this man.

“I’m a fast learner mam, just give me a sample of what needs to be cooked and i’ll make it.” He says.

You were about to deny this foolish request until the sounds of numerous peoples stomachs gurgling suddenly caught your attention.

“Uhhhggg, Chef Y/N we don’t feel so good.” One your top chefs say holding their stomachs.

“Neither do I.” Chef Rasha groans.

“Oh no..” Another chef groans running out the room and into the bathroom.

“I feel fine?” Your little sister says looking at you in disbelief as more and more chefs ran out the room in distress as you watched your customers quickly flee out the front door.

You couldn’t believe this..your entire staff had contracted food poisioning.

You look between Luffy and the dying woman and then back at Sanji as your stomach churned even more.

Uhg.

“Fine, but my little sister will be your sous chef, she’s basically the mini version of me so listen to her directly got it?” You say approaching the blonde man who’s flirtatious smile made its way back onto his face.

“Anything you say Madam-’ ”And please stop with the Madam, Call me Chef, Y/N.”

“Chef Y/n, beautiful name, fits a beautiful woman.” He says.

Your stomach churns again as you quickly grab your little sisters chef hat and proceed to heavily vomit directly into it.

“Wow Sanji, your flirting literally made her vomit.” A man says placing a pitiful hand on his shoulder.

“Shut it Usopp!” Sanji hisses. “I’m going to have my friends help me considering your now understaffed, is that okay?” He asks looking at your concerningly handing you a handkerchief from his suits pocket.

“Fine, but don’t let that one” You say pointing to luffy. “Anywhere near the food.” You say getting a strange vibe from the straw hat boy just from the way he was eyeing your customers abandoned plates of food they had left.

“Trust me, I wasn’t.” He admits.

“Fine its a deal.” You say reaching out your clammy shaky hand that he immediately picks up and kisses.

Your face contorts into disgust as you take your hand back, just who did you let in your kitchen??

-

Hey guys wanted to do a little Sanji One shot I think this will be a two parter but I thought it would be so cool if Sanji met another incredibly talented chef who just so happened to be a woman right before we meet Chopper at the Drum Kingdom arc!!

[the-bi-space-ace]

I have a migraine coming on so I present to you:

How the clones react when they have a headache:

Rex: takes so many pain pills. Refuses to let this stop him. Drinks water constantly. And yet. This man refuses to try a snack to fix his headache. Cody has had Fives and Echo hold him down so he can make Rex eat a granola bar. (The granola bar helps Rex refuses to admit it.)

Cody: refuses to admit anything is wrong. Total hypocrite. Will bully everyone else into pain relievers, snacks, and water but will never take his own advice. Quite like his above mentioned brother he will never admit to something working and has to be tricked into doing something to relieve the pain.

Fox: chews on espresso beans to make his headache a caffeinated headache. Also is just in a constant state of discomfort from not sleeping enough. His headache would go away should he drink water or nap but the man would rather down another energy drink and move on.

Wolffe: will be grumpy about it until he can nap. Is really good about finding some sort of relief and is quiet about his pain. (Likes when someone will rub his head though that helps he won’t ask for it though.)

Fives: biiiiiiig mad. Super baby about it. Immediately wants an aleve and a snack but somehow thinks drinking something with sugar will help??? Instead of water??? And he’s somehow correct every time??? Lays his head in Echo’s lap and requests a head massage and promptly falls asleep.

Echo: I think he’s good about managing pain because he doesn’t want it to impact his ability to do things. He carries snacks and water and will take a reliever if pushed (although he says he doesn’t want to take it because he doesn’t want to ‘waste’ supplies on himself. Take the damn pill Echo you’ll feel better.) Refuses to be alone when he’s in pain and would always prefer someone to just sit nearby if he’s going to nap. As long as it’s dark and calm he’s pretty quiet about it. Tries to hide it 9 times out of 10 but he’s got nosey friends and they somehow always know and bully him into taking care of himself.

Hunter: oof. Poor guy gets migraines. Can never hide it. His eyes hurt so bad. His brain feels like it’s banging against his skull. Has to take some sort of medication immediately otherwise he gets sick. He’d prefer some solitude to be in pain alone but sometimes someone will take his bandana off and play with his hair to help.

Wrecker: Hates headaches but gets them concentrated right behind his eyes. Is not quiet about the pain and will request literally anything to make it go away. Tech is excellent at playing doctor here and knows exactly the combination of things to make it go away and keep Wrecker comfortable.

Tech: if it’s bad enough he will take a sedative and pass out for twelve hours and wake up fine. Does not fuck around and will not remain uncomfortable. He gets the slightest inclination of a headache and he’s eating a mini candy bar and a piece of cheese and also drinking eight ounces of water in five minutes before trying a pill that he knows will target the root cause of the problem. Scary efficient and competent.

Crosshair: oh boy. Will make it everyone else’s problem. He hates headaches. He’ll curl into a ball in whatever dark corner he can find and snap at anyone who tries to talk to him. Best bet is to silently bring offerings of food and water and leave him be until he feels more comfortable. He will never admit it but sometimes really quiet talking or even singing can help him at least feel better.

[simplydannie]

@kais-va no angst as you asked lol this is one I did awhile ago but forgot to post it! (I scrolled through my account and I swear I didn’t see this one anywhere!)

The twins have been doing community service under the watchful eye of the Trolls. This time their service takes them to Vacay Island where a day off means a day in the sun… unfortunately, for Vennie, that’s doesn’t turn out so great.

It was really bright and really sunny day on Vacay Island. On top of that, it was very busy. Tourists have been swarming in left and right; tourists of all species.

On the beach near the water were 3 figures: two tall with green hair and pale skin, one little purple one no bigger than a tennis ball. Velvet wore a two piece golden suit and a large sun hat. Her long hair tied in a flamboyant ponytail, bangs curled around her forehead. Round sunglasses shaded her eyes and rose pink lipstick on her lips. Her brother was to her left. He wore golden trunks to match his sister and black round sunglasses. His hair wasn’t styled in his normal updo. Instead he let the water take its role, allowing his hair to sweep in a type of faux hawk near his eyes. He no longer wore his green lipstick to match his sister; this time he was his own man.

In between them lay a small little purple Troll sprawled out on a small beach chair. Green rectangular sunglasses blocked his eyes, a smile across his face. The three sighed in unison.

“This...” said Floyd.

“Is...” continued Velvet.

“Perfect.” finished Veneer.

The three lay with their arms behind their head as they soaked up the bright, smiling sun.

“...Wow! Revenue up 40%. Let’s get some more cheese melted for some more nachos! Let’s get those drinks up and ready. We got more coming in.!” Bruce’s voice trickled and boomed as he got closer to the trio. “Velvet, your idea of opening our doors to Mount Rageons everywhere was Sp-ec-tac-U- lar!”

A sly smile crossed Velvets lips, “I know, I know.” She beamed.

“Ahem.” Floyd coughed, lowering his sunglasses side eyeing her.

“I mean, you’re welcome. Anything I can do to help.” She rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Maybe a little less attitude, but better.” Floyd beamed.

“I really don’t know why I am going through this behavior intervention. It’s really pointless.” Velvet said.

“I don’t know, you seem more barable now... fun even.” Veneer smirked. Velvet grabbed her towel smacking her brother across the face.

“And you’ve became a more smart ass than usual... I hate it.” She sneered.

“Love you too sis.” Her brother laughed.

“This conversation is going a lot better than most-oooohhhhh wow.” Floyd took off his small sunglasses and gasped towards Veneers direction.

“What?” Veneer gaped. Velvet turned towards her brother for a good look…. She then bursted out laughing.

“Oh my god- what?...What? ...WHAT!?” His voice began to grow shaky and nervous.

“ I don’t know, you tell me. Can I have some grilled cheese with the that tomato soup sir?” Velvet said between laughs. Tears began rolling down her eyes as the laughter continued. Veneer gaped at her clueless.

“What?! Tell me!?” He begged. Before Floyd could respond Poppy and Branch joined the trio… their eyes going wide when they saw Veneer.

“Omg Vennie!” Poppy exclaimed, “Like red is definitely your color but not like this!”

Branch joined Velvet in laughter…. Which made Veneer even more anxious… Why is Branch laughing too? He thought.

“Dude, have you ever heard of “sunblock”?” Branch asked with a smirk on his face.

“Duh! Floyd gave me some!” Veneer desperately tried to look around for something to see himself on.

“ Which one? I gave you two, and one was NOT sun lotion.” Floyd declared. Velvet continued laughing handing her brother her mirror.

“Priceless.” She sneered.

Upon looking at himself.... he saw it. His cheeks were flushed red. The redness flushed his face, neck, torso…all the way down to his legs. Velvet was right, he looked like he had jumped in tomato soup.

“No, no, no, no, no!!” He stammered. He reached for his towel and wrapped his entire body... well as much as he could. “No one said anything!”

“Well I didn’t get a good look at you until now.” Floyd said, “you better put something on before it starts peeling.”

“Oh Vennie, youll be fine! It doesn’t look that bad.” Poppy tried to say.

“I look like a freaking tomato, Poppy!” Veneer said.

He eyes the beach from side to side: it was jam packed with people. Anyone could’ve of seen and anyone was going to see if he walked out of there... a red glowing stick.

“Vels hand me your towel!” He demanded.

“You have your own!” She exclaimed.

“Ya but yours is longer. Covers more. Pleeeeeaaase!” He begged.

“I mean there’s not MUCH to cover anyways.” She smirked as she laid back closing her eyes again.

“Velvet.” She turned to see Floyd standing up right with his arms across his chest. He lifted one eyebrow giving her a stern look.

“Uuuuggghhh. Boys are much more drama queens than girls are yknow. Here moron.” She tossed him her towel.

“Thank you!” Attempting to wrap himself like a burrito, Veneer stood up and made his way toward the resort.

Leaving his sunglasses on, he twisted and turned, avoiding any eye contact that he could.

“Excuse me. Sorry. Coming through.” He said as he weaved his way around the crowd. ‘Almost there, almost there’, he thought to himself..….

OOF.

He accidentally ran into a Vacationer carrying a tray of food and drinks. Veneer tumbled to the floor loosing grip of his towel.

“Sorry my dude… whooooaaaa.” The Vacationers eyes widened upon seeing Veneers red glowing skin.… Everyone there gaped as they saw him….everyone.

“No, no thats my bad!” Veneer desperately reached for the towel and wrapped himself up again. “Uuuh have a good day!” He ran…. He ran straight toward the room he was staying in.

Once inside he went straight towards his bed, burying his face into his pillow…. He was NEVER going to show his face after that again.

“Stupid Veneer.” He told himself as he buried his face deeper into his pillow.

[zedortoo]

Pizza Autism: the novella

Pizza Tower autism and/or ADHD headcanons go go go!!!!

warning there is. So much under the cut. I go off about everyone's tism

Peppino:

-Middle aged man autism. Ohh my god this guy is so autism we're starting off strong

-Most of his stims are physical and are probably. Not the most healthy (biting, banging wrists together, hair pulling etc)

-He has arfid frfr! Despite being a chef he's very careful about what he eats, however most italian foods are safe foods for him.

-Struggle showing empathy, even if he feels it. Yall saw how he reacted to Gerome mourning John he was out of his depth 😭

Gustavo:

-gnome autism.

-poor dude can't understand sarcasm to save his life. Also really bad at comprehending deeper meanings and stuff... Honestly me too Gustavo. Me too.

-actually gets overstimulated really easily. he grew up in a place similar to the gnome forest in the tower, where the air was always somewhat humid. If there's a dehumidifier running anywhere he can practically sense it and will immediately get upset bc he is too dry 💔

-His stims are mainly vocal (i.e. "I'm going to kill you") but he also likes to bounce on the balls of his feet and rock back and forth!

Mr Stick:

-French autism

-Hes not actually a huge asshole all the time, SURE he can be blunt and come off as rude but most of the time the mean persona is a mask. His really close friends know he's just a weird dude

-(stole this idea from Olympe) He is a routine lover!! Has his entire day planned out as soon as he wakes up. If you get in the way of his routine you will be turned into an ambiguous ball of meat. He was SOOOO pissed off when he got stuck in the tower bc it's wasn't in his routine so he robbed the whole damn place out of malice

-Innapropriate reactions to sensetive situations. If he had to comfort someone it would be Joever for him.

-Represses most stims because he thinks he's embarrassing. When in private though he'll spend ages examining textures and smelling paper (I do this all the time it's so fun). Occasionally when he's tired or comfortable he'll let out a high pitched squeak that noone can believe came from that middle aged man.

-I could go on with more. I love talking about this cunt.

Pepperman:

-Capsicum autism.

-Also has inappropriate reactions to things. Has no vocal control either half of the time he doesn't realize he's yelling

-Has a habit of chewing on/wanting to taste everything. Ate several wardrobes worth of Polly pocket clothes as a kid probs. Has to physically stop himself from giving his art supplies a taste. Occasionally eats an eraser still.

-If someone reorganizes his shit they WILL be killed this dude knows exactly where everything he needs is he has his own fucked up system

-Mainly uses stim toys. Has a collection of high end custom made ones but is too afraid of wearing them out so he chews on a toy dog bone instead and it's mangled to BITS

Vigilante:

-Cheese autism.

-This dude has know idea what autism actually is. He knows he's different compared to a lot of people, but he's never had the right word for it.

-Strong sense of justice. If something is wrong he WILL set it right. He got super upset when he realized Peppino wasn't actually an outlaw and he had tried to kill an innocent dude

-HATES HATES HATES processed foods. says he can taste the chemicals.

-Doesnt really stim in public. He'll tap his boot or spin the barrel of his gun if he gets really overstimulated but he much prefers to just pet some of his farm animals until he feels better

Noise:

-Rat autism!!

-This dude constantly needs to be overstimulated he loves it. If things are too quiet he gets super upset and starts bouncing off the walls and shit

-HATES the texture of carbonated drinks but forces himself to drink them because the flavour is worth it.

-Hes has like, three masks on at all times. There's the feral showbiz fella we all know and love, then beneath that is a more controlled businessman type, and beneath THAT is another, slightly less feral rat man.

-goes semi verbal sometimes. Everything just gets tangled up in his mind and he can't spit out the words he wants. He hates it when this happens during a show.

Noisette:

-Bunny autism!!!

-classic weirdgirl type. Would totally read warrior cats and roleplay as a cat on the playground as a kid.

-Also really bad with understanding emotions. You have to tell her specifically if she's upset you or something otherwise she just will not realize.

-makes a lot of vocal stims. Mainly just little beeps and stuff (I like to think she'd make that one jerma substitute teacher noise. Does anyone know what I'm talking about) Also loves to rock back and forth!!

-Has texture issues. She personally disposed of all the Sherpa fleece in the tower.

Fake peppino:

-autism supreme.

-like fr this dude is just the embodiment of autism. it eats vaccines to get more autistic/j

-cant understand when it's making someone upset. Actually, similar to Noisette, is bad at perceiving negative emotions overall.

-mirrors a lot. I mean that's like an integral part of their character. They mainly take after Peppino but will start acting like someone if he's around them long enough.

-melts into a puddle when overstimulated. Honestly? I wish I could do that too.

-Mainly mirrors stims from friends. It freaked everyone out when they started repeating Gustavo's catchphrase.

Pizzahead:

-PIZZA AUTISM!!!

-horrible moral compass this dude will do anything she wants and genuinely won't see what's wrong with it. Case in point the whole of pizza tower

-used to mask her true silly self a lot to be considered more 'normal' but decided normal ppl were boring as hell and dropped the charade

-arfid haver!! Loves pastries and breads and stuff, basically refuses to eat anything else. Has a personal vendetta against cantaloupe and has vowed to destroy it all bc he hates it soooo much

-taps his foot as a stim!! Also likes to jump around and the like, will rapidly shake their fists if incredibly excited

Gerome:

-Rock autism

-This guy loves his own company. Sure, he'll happily be social, but drops the mask as soon as he's alone. Just likes to be alone!

-Also not big on touch. The only person who's allowed to lay a finger on him is John, if anyone else just like. pats him on the back he will freeze up.

-loves being a janitor because the job is mostly repetitive. He cleans each floor in his own order, he has it all sorted out!

-loves bath bombs and stuff. Really likes the smells and just the fizz and the way they crumble in his fingers. Sometimes he'll just throw one in the sink and watch it for ages

-makes this weird clicking noise in the back of his throat as a stim. It's a rather unsettling noise but it's really the only way he stims in public. When alone he likes to feel textures of different things

John:

-hivemind autism!

-I feel bad for this dude man imagine having your being spread out through several different pocket dimensions and all of them have different textures and shot this poor bugger must've been overstimulated for years

-very blunt. Says what he wants with no remorse. Also doesn't have any volume control so often doesn't realize he's yelling

-I imagine when he was resurrected and was no longer a hivemind he had to take a long time alone just being himself. Duuuude imagine having to mask for YEARS because you were never ever alone I would lose my fucking marbles

-opposite of his brother, he doesn't understand personal space. Will often accidentally get I'm ppls faces because he doesn't realize how close he is to them. This also makes him somewhat clumsy and he has a habit of running into things

-Mainly has facial/expression stims. Will pull a big ol' grimace if something goes wrong and grin like an idiot when happy (see: when he got revived)

[bangtanhoneys]

BTS & Grace - 25 Weeks

The practice room was filled with sounds of unreleased music, some heavy breathing, the squeaking of shoes, someone dropping a bottle of water on the wooden flooring and the mutters of the staff. It was the typical chaos expected of BTS and even after their military service, they were still the same lunatics when it came to dance practice. Of course, there were changes to muscles, structure, punctuality and how everything was planned to the finest detail. 

Some things, however, could not be planned to the finest detail.

With the boys back all together from the military, their comeback plans were finalised and put in place. A new album was in the making with a single having been released about two months ago and a tour was in the planning stages. It had been thought out, in great detail, with all eight members signed on and ready to go. 

Yet, life never listens to plans. 

Life finds a way. 

Grace had been the sole member to represent the group as the boys completed their military career and her final solo concert coincided with BTS 12th anniversary. The following months allowed her to relax for once while the last members finished their service and she could enjoy having Seokjin home, could enjoy not worrying about music for once. 

The plus sign on a pregnancy test threw every plan out of the window. 

It wasn’t planned, it never is. It was wanted but later on. However, life found a way as Bang PD jokingly said when he was told the news. And any fear or worry about what was going to happen slowly shifted when the team came together to make adjustments. 

The tour would go ahead but without Grace. She would still be there but behind the scenes, dealing with a newborn baby if all went okay. BTS would play as seven members, 6 uncles and 1 Dad. 

For now, she was still part of the process and still part of practice. The 25-week baby bump had stopped her fully dancing but she could still sing and she wasn’t going to miss a single practice, interview or the like until B-Day as Jungkook had taken to calling it. B-Day for the day she was meant to give birth. 

The boys had been over the moon and beyond with joy at the news. Finally, after many hints and a bit of begging, Seokjin & Grace were going to make them uncles. In Jungkook’s case, he was finally going to be a big brother and big brother had taken to following his mother wherever she went. If Seokjin wasn’t there, Jungkook was. 

Jimin and Taehyung were twins of loud support - kings of snacks, blankets, and foot rubs. 

Hobi had been a bouncing ball of sunshine and was already buying clothes for a child whose gender nobody knew but they all had a feeling of what it would be. Namjoon immediately started researching and buying pregnancy books, DISPATCH catching him once and sending the media into a flurry of rumours. None of which were denied or talked about. 

Yoongi had taken it upon himself to build the nursery and buy the furniture. That was his job and nobody was going to take it from him. He was also secretly making a lullaby album for the future. 

And Seokjin - well he was a bit of a worrywort. Constantly worrying about everything, mostly if he would be a good father because he would be on the road most of the time and he was childish yet mature, strong yet weak and every moment was a worry. But he was excited, just like the staff were, just like the families were. 

The first Bangtan baby. 

And the first Bangtan baby was getting a taste of the song IDOL. 

Grace had a microphone in one hand, the other hand on the side of her stomach where her child seemed to be hitting in time with the beat and in front of her on the table was a selection of snacks. The doctor had told her to snack daily on carrots, cheese, yoghurt and some apple wedges with strawberries and tangerines. So it was a constant process of munching on a baby carrot then sing her lines then munch on something else. 

It wasn’t too bad. She’d rather be eating than sweating. 

“How’s baby Bangtan doing?” Yoongi asked, coming over once the song was done to steal some tangerine segments. 

“Baby Bangtan was enjoying IDOL and were dancing up a storm, if the pain in my ribs is any indication,” Grace sighed then frowned when she realised what Yoongi had stolen. Seeing the look on her face, Yoongi quickly sat down and began peeling the other tangerines. If there was one thing he was going to do, it would be not getting on Grace’s bad side. Her mood swings have been a bit unpredictable lately. 

“Noona, I’ve got your black tea,” Jimin said as he placed the mug on the table before sitting beside his noona. 

Tea - the only drink she could have twice a week. And it had to be black, not her normal drink which she missed. 

“Ah here comes Joon with his daily pregnancy fact,” Yoongi muttered with a grin as he finished peeling one tangerine. 

Namjoon ignored the smaller man and glared at Jimin for giggling. “25 weeks so 6 months, we’ve got 3 months to go. Baby should start developing blood vessels in their lungs and their nose will start to work as well,” he read off his phone where he had downloaded an app to keep track. 

“We? What we? I think it’s Grace and I who have 3 months to go,” Seokjin wandered over as he pressed a towel to his skin to dry it from the sweat.

“No hyung, we all have three months to go until the bangtan baby is here,” Jungkook said while coming up behind the older man to give him a light slap to the neck before settling down beside Grace. 

Grace could see Seokjin’s mouth begin to open with his traditional ‘ya!’ but Taehyung beat him to it, shoving his phone in front of his face. “Jin-hyung, what do you think of that t-shirt? I think we should all get one for when the baby comes. It says Team Bangtan Baby.”

“Team Bangtan Baby,” Hobi grinned as he took his place next to Jimin. “That kind of works. Can we use that when we start doing RUN BTS again? We can have baby-themed episodes. Who can change a nappy the quickest?”

“You won’t be able to do that hyung, you can’t stand the sight of sick so how are you going to deal with dirty nappies?” Jimin asked, pushing the mug of tea closer again. 

“I can deal with it, I’ve changed since the military you know,” Hobi glared at the younger man while puffing up his chest. 

“Hobi-hyung, you screamed and jumped when you bumped into that mannequin the other day,” Jungkook pointed out from where he lay his head against Grace’s stomach, grinning when he felt the light kicks. 

“I’m feeling very ganged up on here,” Hobi muttered as he pulled out his phone and distracted himself. 

“How are you feeling anyway, Gigi?” Namjoon asked, turning the attention back to the woman in question. 

“Hemorrhoids are fun,” Grace said in the most deadpan way she could causing Yoongi to giggle behind his hand and for Namjoon to stutter. 

“Boys! As much as it’s fun to torture your female member, we’ve got practice to get to,” Sung-deuk called from the other side of the room. 

There was a collective groans and sighs as they all stood up. Grace smugly grinned, holding up her strawberries and leaning back against the chair that had been provided. “Go on boys, I’ve covered you for over a year. Now it’s your turn. I’ve got some baking to do here, only three months to go.”

[scratchybongvt]

THE SIDEMASCOTS SEASON 1 FINALE! (Sidemascots 1.16)

Starring…

THE SIDEMASCOTS!

Tom: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?! You all have ended the series on a positive note?

Vinicius: Yeah.

Sumi: Shut up Tom, your era is over!

Miraitowa: Most of us have already tired of your unethical behavior in the Eleventh Gear series, even in @sashley1912’s standards!

Burke: Or my standards!

OC IV: Or MY standards!

Tom: I’ve already made a lot of Sidemascots competitors…

Vinicius: The sh*t Sidemascots?

Tom: WHAT?!

(Everyone laughed)

Tom: That does it! You all gonna pay! And that is precisely why the ACTUAL title of the season finale is…

TOM ATTEMPT TO SABOTAGE…

THE SIDEMASCOTS!

(A 100kg weight drops over Fuleco)

Sumi: Holy guacamole!

Vinicius: Rest in peace, Fuleco…

Sumi: Another victim this season finale? Oh my, surely we’re going to get demonetized now!

Vinicius: Filming is postponed, go back everyone.

Everyone: Awwwww…

Burke: Damn, as I write some otherwise great suggestions for the Sidemascots season finale…

(Transition to outdoors, where Vinicius and Sumi are in a car, driving out of the studio)

Sumi: Do you know why there’s a 220lbs weight on top?

Vinicius: Could be Tom’s, he already warned us. Better be careful this time…

Amik: I’ll see you tomorrow… or will I?

(An azizian jumps out and shoots the car with a Nerf gun)

Sumi: GO GO GO!

Azizian: Shit! They went away…

Tom: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?! Why are you holding a Nerf gun?

Azizian: Sorry, tumblr censorship. Do I still get paid?

Tom: NO!

(Transition)

Sumi: Why is there a person shooting cheese balls at us?

Vinicius: I have no idea this time.

Wenlock: Hey y’all! Are you guys going to therapy after that technical issue in the studio?

Vinicius: Oh, no, we’re going back to Whistler.

Wenlock: Awwww, I was going to say if you guys want to eat fish and chips…

Sumi: Fish and chips?! I LOVE fish and chips! Where?

(A robber approached Wenlock and choke him)

Robber: GIVE ME ALL OF YOUR MONEY OR ELSE!

Burke: (smashes the robber with a chair) NOT TODAY!

Vinicius and Sumi: (trembles) thanks Burke…

(Transition)

News reporter: Police are asking for witnesses after the CCTV was turned off during the attempted robbery in Vancouver earlier today…

(Sumi turned off the TV)

Sumi: How the heck did they turn off the CCTV and got away?

Vinicius: This is getting confusing…

(Knocks door)

Voice: Delivery!

Sumi: Phew, probably one of the Lankybox toys I’ve ordered…

(Sumi opens the door, which reveals a bomb)

Vinicius: DUCK AND COVER!

(The timer rings but the bomb didn’t explode)

Sumi: What the…

Burke: I’ve defused the bomb!

Vinicius and Sumi: YIPPEE!

Burke: To be honest, all it takes is a childish picross puzzle…

Sumi: (holds phone) What? My order is delayed?! What do you mean the shipping is interrupted by a bunch of pirates? Aw, screw Temu!

(Transition)

Officer: Do you know the person choked?

Sumi: Wenlock, 13 in human age.

Officer: And the person who choked him?

Vinicius: So far, no.

Officer: And do you know who set up a fake bomb in your house?

Sumi: No, too.

Officer: Right, any more information?

Vinicius: No.

Officer: Right, thank you for your cooperation, we’ll investigate this situation further.

Vinicius: Gee, this is starting feel like we’re in a booby trap!

Sumi: I’ve never seen an action film like this! And I’ve seen loads!

(Knocks door)

Sumi: Another guest?! Ha, I won’t fall for that!

(A different robber bangs the door)

Robber: Hands in the air and don’t move!

Vinicius: RUN!

(The robber pulls his trigger but failed, Miraitowa then run outside the window)

Miraitowa: Ha, prop guns! Unlucky! Better follow the tumblr User Guidelines or else!

Robber: DAMN! I’LL BE BACK!

Vinicius: uh… Mirai? What’s with the bandaged head?

Sumi: Did you fell into a trap like we did?

Miraitowa: No, it’s a head injury from that charity match, remember?

Sumi: ohhhhhhhhh…

Miraitowa: Don’t be surprised if I’m unable to think properly…

Vinicius: Oh, you’re still fine.

Miraitowa: Really?! YIPPEE! I’M NOT A ROBOT AFTER ALL!

Sumi: Just to be clear that you’re STILL a robot.

Miraitowa: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!

(Transition)

Someity: Basically, you all want me to remove all of the potential traps you guys can step into?

Sumi: Basically, yes.

Someity: Right. (Uses telekinesis to throw all of the traps away around the house) I’m out of here!

Vinicius and Sumi: YIPPEE!

(Transition)

Sumi: Ah, meditating really calm my nerves down!

Vinicius: An effective alternative to 3 months of therapy!

(Knocks door)

Sumi: Not this again, we’ve got all of the traps removed!

(Borobi bangs the door)

Borobi: HELP MATE! A KANGAROO WITH A RICHMOND GUERNSEY IS CHASING ME!

Vinicius: You’re an Australian, shouldn’t you fight kangaroos?

Borobi: KOALAS CAN’T FIGHT KANGAROOS!

Sumi: (whispers) Right, what do we do? We can’t do some kind of animal cruelty, that’s ridiculous on tumblr…

Vinicius: I know! (runs away to get something, only to cough a few seconds later because it came from a garbage can, it was later revealed to be a Fluminense shirt) Viva o Fluminense!

(The kangaroo ran away)

Vinicius: See? Fluminense are so bad even sport-heavy kangaroos are scared of it!

Borobi: Phew…

Sumi: Wait, aren’t they in decent form this season-

Vinicius: SHUT UP!

(Transition)

Sumi: Vini…

Vinicius: What?

Sumi: I’m scared of going outside…

Vinicius: Someity already removed all of the traps so…. holy…

(Vinicius sees someone costumed as a ghost holding an ice bucket)

Vinicius: It’s November, snap out of it!

(The ghost throws an ice bucket onto Vini)

Vinicius: AAAAAAAAAAH! TOO COLD, TOO COLD!!!

(Honohon comes and blows fire at the ghost)

Honohon: RUN, VINI, RUN!!!!

(Transition)

(Vini and Sumi are in a therapy with Dr. Derek, Vinicius personally was so attached to Derek that he got his personal information)

Derek: It’s okay, there’s nothing to fear, please, uh, tell me what happened.

Vinicius: Ughhhhhh…

Sumi: Calm down Vini…

Vinicius: On our way from Vancouver to Whistler, then back to Vancouver again, we tripped over traps, A LOT of traps.

Derek: And do you know who set up all of them?

Vinicius: Tom, my old friend, we were like brothers until he started his own series without consent and the friendship falls from there…

Derek: Have you tried detecting and removing the traps?

Sumi: Yes, but Tom always sets up even more to sabotage us Sidemascots.

Derek: Sidemascots?

Vinicius: You know, the epic mascotverse series where 10 chosen mascots come together every week to compete in epic challenges?

Derek: Oh, I’ll check them out later, you should too #ad, anyway, if some jackass named Tom set up a lot of traps to sabotage you all…

(Tina is seen on the window)

Tina: HELP! SOME PAOLO MALDINI ROBOT IS CHASING AFTER ME! AHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Derek: Oh, do you know where Tom is?

Sumi: He might still be around in Canada. Could be moving to Montreal…

Derek: Oh… I recommend you call a rocket scientist to track him down. I suggest Pamela.

Vinicius: PAMELA?! Never heard of her…

Sumi: I did heard of her…

Derek: She’s an experienced rocket scientist in Arizona and has invented so much NASA rejected all of them.

Sumi: Oh, in that case, I’ve never heard of her.

Vinicius: Can we tell her to invent everything?

Derek: Of course. We’re in a fictional world after all, flying cars are possible, you know she went on Japanese TV and they compared her to that “fat blue robot raccoon from the 22nd century”

Sumi: Can you tell us her number?

Tina: YES! GIVE THEM HER NUMBER! I’M STILL BEING CHASED BY THAT ROBOT! HEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!

(Transition)

(Phone rings)

???: Hello?

Vinicius: Hello? Is this Pamela L. Collins? A rejected NASA scientist from Arizona?

???: Yes, what help do you want? I have no big project currently, at least for the next 6 months.

Sumi: Yeah so someone named Tom from Brazil decided to set up a lot of traps and weapons to sabotage us Sidemascots.

???: Sidemascots you say?

Vinicius: Sidemascots I say!

Sumi: I said it!

Vinicius: Shut up Sumi…

???: Sidemascots? I LOVE Sidemascots!

Sumi: Really? Big fan?

???: Yeah! Bigger than @sashley1912!

Sumi: Don’t say that, she’ll be super pissed she hears about that…

???: Whoops, so you all want Sidemascots to be saved?

Vinicius and Sumi: YES!

???: Wait me a minute, I’m in a Tim Horton’s in Whistler…

Sumi: In Whistler?

(Knocks door)

Sumi: Ooh! Might be that Lankybox merch for real this time…

Vinicius: NO! DON’T TRUST-

(Sumi opens the door, only to reveal Powder, who changed her reputation as a scientist and wears round glasses now.)

Powder: Surprise!

(Vinicius collapses)

Sumi: HOLY SHIT, POWDER?!

Powder: Yeah?

Sumi: I THOUGHT YOU’RE DEAD!

Powder: I’ve been fooling the world for months, even years! Of course I’m not dead! My patent pending genetic clones are! Not even Tom can notice them!

Sumi: IT’S GENIUS! But first, can you save Vinicius who’s in a heart attack?

Powder: Heart a… HOLY SHIT! VINI! (Grabs defibrillator and placed it onto Vini’s chest) CLEAR!

Vinicius: HOLY SH- POWDER?! HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?!

Sumi: Actually the one we saw in the auditions was one of her several genetic clones.

Vinicius: CLONES?! HOLY SH*T THIS IS THE BIGGEST PLOT TWIST IN HISTORY!

Powder: HECK YEAH!

Vinicius: Wait… isn’t your name Pamela?

Powder: Actually it’s one of my pseudo names to hide my identity, let’s just say it worked.

Vinicius: YOU’RE A GENIUS!

Sumi: That’s what I say.

Powder: Right, want me to stop that Brazilian spoiled brat?

Vinicius and Sumi: YES!

Powder: I have just the gadget to do this… The Tom Tracker™️! Basically before Eleventh Gear I’ve forced Tom to swallow a tracking device which allows me to track him at all times! Then, we’ll whip out my signature Coyote T-31 modified but absolutely legal tank!

Sumi: A tank? I thought taking voice recordings and remix them without consent was weird enough.

Powder: If our tank breaks (which happens 99,9% of the time), we’ll fly with my Jet Tank Twos.

Vinicius: What about public roads?

Powder: Knowing Whistler, the people LOVES to be splashed.

Sumi: Fair point.

Powder: Then once we approach them, we’ll finish it with my 5000W laser guns stronger than those once possessed by @crackheadfromsainsburys!

Sumi: This is starting to look like a badly-drawn comic made by a superhero-obsessed 5-year-old.

Powder: Well… all of this are inspired by my childhood so…

Vinicius: That’s it! We can finally end our suffering once AND for all!

Sumi: Woohoo! Let’s go!

(Transition)

(Vinicius, Sumi and Powder are in the latter’s expensive tank)

Powder: Ready?

Vinicius and Sumi: READY!

Powder: 🚨AND HERE WE GO! 🚨

(The tank breaks down)

Vinicius: Uhhhh… Powder, how is this tank legal?

Powder: Well I fooled government officials back in Arizona saying that this was a car wrapped in a heavier sheet of aluminum…

Sumi: We’ll NEVER get to Tom!

Powder: Remember, we have an alternative…

Vinicius: Oh yeah…

(Powder bangs the roof of the tank and flies with her patent pending Jet Tank Two water jet pack, along with Vinicius and Sumi)

Sumi: Where could he be?

(Powder’s Tom Tracker beeps)

Powder: Oh no! He’s near the Tim Horton’s I just go and bullying Otto!

Tom: GIVE ME YOUR F**KING MONEY OR I’LL WHOOP YOUR ASS!

Sumi: STOP RIGHT THERE!

Tom: WHAT THE HECK? THE SH*T SIDEMASCOTS?! AND POWDER’S STILL ALIVE?

Powder: You’ve been fooled for years!

Vinicius: It’s nice seeing you, but I’m afraid you need to GO.

Powder: EAT THIS!

(Tom dodged the laser)

Sumi: YOU CANT ESCAPE ME!

Otto: Wow… what an average superhero movie…

(Tom keep dodging lasers)

Vinicius: Damn! He’s got dodging abilities as an average villain!

Tom: I have that aura thing everyone’s been talking about…

Vinicius, Sumi and Powder: AURA?!

OC IV: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?! You can’t gain aura suddenly without MY consent! Now you have it…

Sacha: *snaps fingers* now you don’t!

OC IV: You can’t interrupt me! I’m the god of the aura!

Sacha: but I’m the MAMA of the god of the aura! You’re grounded!

(OC IV cries)

Vinicius: Thanks Sacha!

Tom: YOU STIL CAN’T KILL ME! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Powder: Oh really?

(Sumi takes out his phone, calling 911 while everyone’s not noticing)

Tom: Yeah, really! Even without the aura thing everyone’s been talking about!

Powder: Then take th-

Police: YOU’RE UNDER ARREST!

Vinicius, Sumi and Powder: WHAT?!

Tom: WHAT?!

Police: Tom, I arrest you for public disorder, and for attempting to damage the Sidemascots by sabotaging each one of them even though they did NOTHING wrong! #ad

Vinicius, Sumi and Powder: YAAAAAAAAAY!

Sacha: SIDEMASCOTS IS OVER!!!! YAAAAAAAAAAY! Also Powder, can you revive the Phryges?

Powder: Oh, sure. It might take a few months…

(Sacha immediately strangles Powder)

Powder: Okay, okay… I will…

Sumi: I can finally go back to my day job for the next few months of being a guardian spirit… of my maple syrup.

Vinicius: Me too! I have a band to run.

(Sacha releases Powder)

Powder: Ack… few months? I can’t wait a few months!

Sumi: Sorry, we miss our old job…

Sacha: I LOVE MY NEW JOB OF BEING THE SIDEMASCOTS’ DESIGNATED ILLUSTRATOR!

Powder: I don’t worry, I’ll use my Pocket Time Traveler 5000! A pocket-sized time machine that can send you at any point in a snap!

Vinicius and Sumi: NO!

Sacha: YIPPEE! SEASON 2!

Powder: 2025 here we come!

(Powder presses the crown on the Time Machine shaped like a stopwatch)

THE SIDEMASCOTS!

Vinicius: Season 2!

Sumi: Starring the brand new… Sidemascots!

Police: You’re under arrest!

Vinicius: What? RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!

(Vinicius and Sumi ran out of the studio)

Sumi: WHAT HAVE WE DO? WHAT HAVE WE DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO?!

The Sidemascots will return

In loving memory

Fuleco, 2014 World Cup mascot, crushed in a 100kg (or 220lb weight) dropped by Tom

Powder (at least one of her any clones), strangled by Tom

Quatchi, former amateur goaltender, never stood a chance against Miga and Co.

Copper, Powder’s former friend, due to his name being a good conductor of electricity

The Phryges, Sacha’s little pretend babies, both killed in Squid Game as part of a sabotaging act

@crackheadfromsainsburys, Wenlock lover and Phryge hater, killed also in a sabotaging act set up by Burke and his MLS VAR

La’eeb, burned by Honohon because “his decisions are a f**king disgrace”

Sacha’s grandfather, who, in his granddaughter’s will, mentioned in this episode for good measure

And other staff members and poor civilians who sadly died off-screen during the series

We thank you for your service.

And thanks for donating Sumi via Patreon

It helps him able to, um, do stuff?

#selfishness

(Vini and Sumi chatter in the background)

Sumi: What do we do now, Vini?

Vinicius: Live life, I guess?

Tom: GUYS I’M NOT ARREST-

[anonymouschishiyaimaginesandmore]

The Adventures of Dilf!Chishiya Intro

Minors, do not read! Contains mentions of smutty behavior!

MASTERLIST (up-to-date)

This is the Intro to the Dilf!Chishiya One Shot Series

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Alice in Borderland/Imawa no Kuni no Alice characters or original stories, only the plot of this fanfic. Alice in Borderland/Imawa no Kuni no Alice characters and original storyline belong to Haro Aso, who made the Manga the Series is based on.

Trigger Warning: Questionable Behavior from a 43 year old man Summery: Its an Intro, dunno what else to say

Chishiya Shuntaro was 24 years old when he slept with a woman who he now calls his wife. At least legally. Because beside that, there is nothing between those people who only shared one night together and shit if Chishiya could turn back time and go back to this day, he would slap the hell out of his younger self, who for some reason got hella drunk that night and forgot to wrap it before he tapped it.

Too bad. The product of that fateful mistake is now 18 years old and aside from slutting around her school, dumb as fuck and sucking out the money straight from his wallet. And Chishiya?

He is now 43 and hates the two females living in his house, banging idiots like them under his roof and throwing money out of the window like they earned it and didn’t just rely on him and his good running career as a well-known and famous Surgeon.

Chishiya hated them with all his guts. His wife used the growing glob in her belly to get his father to, pretty much force him into a marriage he never wanted because, no son of his is going to dishonor him and make a bastard and in his fathers eyes, it was time for Chishiya to settle down anyway, why not doing it with the daughter of a good celebrated IT company who had the best reputation in all Tokyo?

Chishiya could name at least 5 reasons why, but the truth is, if he wouldn’t have married that gold digger of a woman and named her crotch goblin with his last name, life would have become a hassle anyway.

His father would have withdrawn all financial support and Chishiya knew without that, this fateful night would have sucked him dry of all income for at least the next 18 years anyway, so why not making it official?

The dyed blond man never planned to stay faithful anyway. Having his little side affairs here and there. At least he kept it securely under the blanket, not like his “Wife” that banging guys all over the city, telling them her sob story of how mean her husband is and cold and unloving.

No wonder that half her jewelry are gifts from random man who fell for her trap long enough to spend themselves stupid. Chishiya didn’t care. He let the people around him talk behind his back, tho they did it terribly obvious and lived his live in a fucked up suburban townhouse Street, where every building looked like the next one and everyone smiled with their perfectly 3mm moaned front yard, their 2 and a half private school children and of course the pool and the grill in the back. Always running and serving grilled cheese and nowadays vegan burger options on sunny days during Neighborhood parties.

Chishiya hated it. He hated all of it and he hated the always smiling man of every family more who he had nothing in common with, beside the stupid house he couldn’t stand and the fact that none of them knew when to pull out in time.

Until one sunny day, he set down next to one of this man circles, hearing what those monkeys had to say about growing up and their yearning taste for something fresh. He was there, but not really listened and that’s when Chishiya realized something.

Something that had skipped his mind for years, since all children in this neighborhood seemed to be almost the same age, but now grew up into more than that.

His neighbor’s daughters, stepdaughters, goddaughters, whatever and nieces. They all grew up right under his eyes and while Chishiya never saw them as anything else as annoying little barbies, screaming and tossing balls over his fence and shattering another window, all of these girls, all of them…they were now right in front of him, giggling their 18 years old asses off in way too tight bikinis and short shorts and oh don’t forget the tiny skirts.

Damn, Chishiya started to love these tiny skirts. They were his new favorite, especially when the wearing darling dropped something and had to lean down to get it.

Oh yeah, Chishiya realized that day, that his live wasn’t over as he thought so. In fact, a new season of summer just begun and the way it looked from his point of view, it carried many shades of possible fun Chishiya couldn’t wait to take a bite of. Or maybe two? Three? Who knows.

Chishiya believed for years that this kind of buffet has closed for him forever, so imagine his surprise and wide eyes as it opened with all it had to offer. How should he say no to all those new and sweet looking options?

Fuck Vegan food, Chishiya thought, licking his lips and spreading his legs just a little wider as one of the girls made her way towards him, with swinging hips and an innocent smile that contrasted hardly with her choice of clothing.

“Mister Chishiya” she addressed him and the man who suddenly loved his neighborhood more then anything hummed a low “Hm?” as a response that made the girl only smile wider, biting her lower lip as she leaned forward onto his sitting figure.

Her cleavage pretty much pressed itself into his view, but Chishiya didn’t minded it.

“You look a little…thirsty.”

With an outstretched hand she offered the blond male who was double her age her glass of Coca Cola, which Chishiya took gladly, tho he didn’t like the sweet beverage much, but how could he say no when it was delivered to him so willing? Chishiya thanked the young doll in front of him for her eager friendliness and took a sip.

“If there is something else I can help you with…” the girl said, swinging her body from left to right and winking delicious “Let me know ya?” Chishiya saw the playfulness in her eyes. The luscious want paired with sparking lust that only a blooming flower like her at the peak of her age could deliver. Coaxing him with her bright eyes and the long lashes and who knows what if he dared to scroll his eyes lower. A young perfect flower indeed. Ready to be picked and blossom between his legs in all her glory.

The way she stood there. So naïve with no idea what good and arousing things the world had to offer. She probably got a glimpse here and there, but Chishiya wasn’t some hormonal cockdriven teen. He could show her so much more and by the look of it, the girl would welcome all his advice.

Yeah, Chishiya though to himself, leaning back in his seat and following the beauty walking back in her parent’s direction, but not before flashing him another one of her electrifying smiles, sending shivers down his spine and exciting him in ways he thought wasn’t possible anymore.

Fuck veganism, today he was going to get some real meat and by the alluring look of it, he would love it to the bone with all his skills and desire. A charming thought.

Summer is finally here. And it looks fantastic.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

The Sweets of my labour this weekend, LOL.

Chocolate Truffles

Peanut Butter Cookies (from Kraft Crunchy Peanut Butter Jar)

Peanut Butter Balls (family recipe)

Cream Cheese Christmas Cookies (can't find the original recipe)

Sugar Cookies, and

Chocolate Chip Cookies

I have about 2 dozen of EACH in my fridge and freezer and have no room for actual food LOL. OOPS. I hope my coworkers enjoy these on Friday LOL. Last week of work for the year, thought I would go out with a bang, hahahaha. I still also want to make Brownies and Rice Krispie squares, but those are best same-or-next-day, so that's my Thursday Night Plan LOL.

[elektrantchios]

wake up call | j.m

MASTERLIST | REQUEST

pairing: Joel Miller x gn!reader

summary: Joel surprise you with breakfast

warnings: hint of swearing and fluff ( season one spoilers maybe this takes place before part two starts )

word count: 600>

a/n: I just finished played part one and I’m 100% in love with Joel 😍 Pedro is just making it more true . I just wanted some pure fluff so I wrote this

You stretched out your aching legs, trying to block the sound of people getting about their day. A groan left your lips, three night shifts in a row had taken almost everything from you. And you still had the next night to worry about.

Clanging and banging with a few swears hit your ears, the noise seemed to be coming from the kitchen. Accepting you were not going to get any sleep you kicked back the covers and pulled on your jeans.

The house was cold, making you regret leaving your bed at all, so what if you couldn’t sleep it was warm there. The closer you got to the kitchen the louder the swearing got. Smirking you lent in the doorway.

“What you cookin good lookin” you shot over to Joel who was sternly looking at a pot on the cooker top. You skipped over wincing at the cold floor, and frowned seeing something, it was definitely something in the pot.

He sighed putting his hands on his hips, “it was meant to be an omelette”. You nudged him away with your hip and started to fix what he had started. He stayed close by and watched as you worked, “I never really got the hang of cooking”.

You dumped some nice smelling herbs into the pot, “helps I was a chef before all this” you hummed, throwing some cheese in the pot. “You heard from el?” You asked.

His body felt stiff behind you, a sigh left your lips as you clicked the gas off. “You two are gonna have to talk sooner or later”.

He took out two plates and set the table, “I’ve talked, the balls in her court now”.

“You’re both as stubborn as they come” you huffed, halving the ‘omelette’ onto the plates. Joel sat down opposite you, the hunger hit you suddenly and you began spooning it into your month, “so any special reason you cooked?”.

He stopped eating and looked at you, you stopped the spoon halfway to your mouth. “You seriously don’t remember?”. You giggled not being able to keep the act up much longer, he smiled annoyed but happily at you.

You jumped from your seat, “why else did you think I was talking all these night shifts?” You asked over your shoulder as you pulled his gift from under the stairs. Still giggling you sat back down putting his gift in front of him.

“Happy anniversary Pumpkin” he placed your gift on the table too.

“Happy anniversary Baby” you smiled.

“You first” you pushed his gift closer to him, “sorry for the shit wrapping only got it this morning” you said pointing to the sad looking paper bag. Out of it he pulled out a near full bag of coffee, his eyes widened.

“How did you get it?” He asked, feeling the weight of it in his hand.

You took another mouth full of egg, “promised Eddie and Lottie, I'd do all their night shifts for the next month if they linked me up with their ‘guy’”.

He got up and knelt down by your side, his beard sending shivers down your back as he kissed your neck, you laughed, shaking him off, “I’m eating my eggs here, plenty of time for that later” you winked.

“You forgetting this” he shook your gift in the air, you dropped your spoon back onto the table. He kept his eye on you as you ripped his actually wrapped gift, you made an gasping sound when you pulled away the last bit of paper.

You flung your arms around his neck sending you back crashing on the floor, you gave both of his cheeks so many kisses you both lost count on how many you gave. You picked the detail knife up from the floor, turning in over in your hand. The handle was careful decorated in gold detail, you had seen it in one of the higher end stores in town, and was upset when you saw it was gone. “how’d you even afford it” you asked, holding it up to the light.

He held your neck, “you don’t wanna know”.

[fipindustries]

while i am at it, things i find really hot in women (more shameless horny posting):

*booba, full, buxom, not gigantic or beach balls, just good supple mounds, proper breasts

*biceps, i want a gunshow, i want proper dukes, and a back that reflects the orography of the grand canyon

*conversely, soft, made of marshmallow, a pudding girl, thicc and sweaty as cheese.

*freckles, bangs, big round eyes with maybe even bigger rouder glasses

*buck teeth, or braces

*curly hair, a mane, a chaos cloud, a proper bush. also a bush in other parts as well, and hairy armpits. and thick eyebrows

*a good schnozz, a nice proper, distinguished nose, a beak that ould make a sculptor sweat

*a dick (optional)

*honestly, just trans, any trans girl at all by default

*androginous, particularly in clothing style, honestly, basically the exact style i expect from men

*confident, loud, funny, maybe even aggresively so. willing to curse. emphatic body language, little regard of personal space, overtly familiar with you.

*a weirdo, a freak, noticeably autistic

*super chill too, again, much like with men, someone who is comfortable in their own skin, someone that can take care of themselves

*again, super nerdy, incredibly invested in some niche hobby which she cant stop talking about. very concerned with rationalism in a very philosofical sense. some who is passionate about empiricism, in a romantic sense. someone that feels like the muse of math. who finds deep spiritual fulfillment in phisics, who sees the transcendent beauty of equations. who gets overwhelmed and cries when seeing planetary orbits. a train fiend

*someone who has that victorian sense and sensibility, who cares about big ideas in a mythological sense. someone who could stand as the goddess athena, or thecla, the kind of lady who stands in front of a burned building with wild hair blowing everywhere and gives an impassioned speech about transhumanism and antideathism and is capably of inspiring a whole angry mob to lay down their weapons and be kind to each other

*cuddly, touch starved, handsy. the kind of person that likes to be all over you and writhe like an eel.

*driven, entrepenurial, always with some project in her hands

*kinky, slutty, very open about their sexuality, willing to show their body without any compunction, to them being nakes is the same as being dressed, willing to try everything under the sun, panting and salivating and blushing whenver anything tangentially related to her kinks is mentioned

*maybe even a bit of a femcel, honestly, an edgy girl, a girl who is slightly problematic, the kind of girl who visits 4chan or even worse places. a bit of a toxic gamer girl. a gremlin

*a posh british accent, or french, or scottish, or new york/boston, or slavic

*a proper milf, maybe some chicken scratches, some grey hairs, some birthing hips. a wordly woman who is comfortable in her age, the definition of a finely aged wine. this is a woman that is going to treat you as her favourite toy and take care of you at the same time. the school teacher you wanted to be groomed by when you were a teen

[lastlycoris]

[The air above your bed seems to waver and shift, like a mirage. When you put your full attention to it, it becomes increasingly clear, coming into focus like a magic eye puzzle.

Soon on your bed you plainly see what is a large red tote bag that can be opened with a zipper. Around the strap is a little note that reads:

Hi! Thanks in advance for letting me meddle! Love meddling. Anyway, much like your phone, this bag and its contents will only be perceivable to you. On the subject of its contents: use your imagination! Anything that can conceivably fit in this bag- from a single malt ball to a whole torpedo sub, along with any tools needed to eat it. To get you started, I've included a mini charcuterie board with sealed bags of cured meats, fruits, cheese cubes, and crackers. Also a homemade cola and some peanut butter chocolate chip cookies (let me know if you like them). Put whatever you don't eat back into the bag and seal it and it will go away! Cheers!

Not mentioned but clearly visible in the bag, along with the rest of its promised contents, is a plastic toy centipede with a smiley face.]

The sudden air shimmering like a mirage surprised her initially, but Euridice never felt like she was in danger. It's clear to her someone was trying to send something. And if it were dangerous, the potted willow tree in her jail cell would've alerted her to it.

The red tote bag, which came into view like a focused telescope, fell onto her bed without any fanfare, but what caught her attention was the little note on it.

Euridice read through the note quickly - and when she read what was in it, her gaze towards the bag immediately became covetous. Opening up the bag in a hurry, she took out the peanut butter chocolate chip cookies first. She wasn't a big fan of sweets, but after having no sweets for the past couple days, she'd been craving them immensely.

The peanut butter chocolate chip cookie tasted like salvation - like letting go of a stress that she hadn't known she was carrying . It was sweet and nutty and delicious - and she almost didn't mind the shadowy hand peeking out of the floor and nabbing at a cookie.

Almost.

She quickly took hold of the creature's wrist - and immediately realized the disparity in their strength. Immediately, she and the cookies were sent to the floor. She crashed - but the cookies didn't.

She finally got to see the creature that's been stealing food from her - at least food from another world. The dark grey cryptid was vaguely shaped like a small girl except it didn't have a face - though that didn't stop it from chewing on a cookie. On top of its head was something vaguely shaped like a Y with two horizontal lines underneath - a Yuan symbol - China's symbol of currency. And she couldn't help but wonder if she was being taxed for these multiversal transports.

More importantly, the cookies were stacked on top of its head, its bangs forming the shape of a plate. It lifted part of its body out of the floor to place the cookies back on the bed. It then took another cookie before disappearing from view.

She blinked.

Okay. Fine. She'll forgive it just once because it saved her cookies - even if it was its fault they nearly fell in the first place.

Munching on another cookie, she notices the small toy centipede with a smiley face, getting her definite answer on who sent the food here. She pulled out her phone.

[ Thank you, Luna. I received the food, and I definitely found the cookies delicious. You are a life saver. It also seems like it attracted the local cryptid too because it took one also - and then another, so I guess it liked it too. I'll definitely get into the charcuterie board too. Once again, thank you. ]

[jigglypuff1994]

The Devil Wears Gabriel - Chapter 16

A female radio host with a thick, Midatlantic accent sounded from the old-school static radio. "This is Nadja Chamack, coming live to you from Paris Radio Station. I'm gonna drop a dime, folks! We've got a jam at the Theatre des Champs-Elysees. Another akuma goon is throwin' an ing-bing. Don't get the eagers now! I'm sure the big cheeses are on their way to rough 'em up! Stay safe. Stay inside. Tune in for more news here on PRS." The radio clicked, leaving a static sound blaring in and out of the speakers. 

Marinette groaned, "Lukaaaaa." Her face half pressed into her pillow, facing him. Her mind lingering between the real world and dreamworld. Sleepily with a raspy voice, she asked, "Can you turn down your phone? I'm trying to sleep." 

Viperion chuckled, looking over Marinette's form. He shook her awake, nudging her with light pressure. "Mari." 

Marinette grumbled into her pillow and nudged him away. Turning her head, she shot him a dirty look in the dark before nuzzling back into her pillow trying to go back to dreamland before the impending doom of her career came to an abrupt end. 

Viperion shook his head staring down at his girlfriend and swiped his hand over his face. As he came up with an idea, a cartoonish lightbulb lit up above his head. He snapped his fingers, exclaiming, "Hot Dog!" Happy with himself, he walked over to the lamp on her bedside table and turned it on.

A bright light shone into her face, causing her to grimace. This made for an even grumpier Marinette. Opening her eyes, she grabbed his pillow, aiming at him to throw when... Hold the line - something wasn't quite right with his normal snake outfit. She did a double take on him, blinking the sleepiness from her eyes. His hair was slicked back under a boater's hat with a ribbon lining. He wore a pinstripe suit, vest and pants, with a bowtie and long sleeve button up shirt. Wingtip shoes in place of his teal, flat shoes.

And - Horsefeathers! Are those shoe spats? Not even her traditionalist 'that's not how it's done' grandfather would wear those! Those were popular a hundred years ago! 

Finally, to put it all together, a shimmering, metallic mask sat around his eyes. It was strange how she could see his full mask now that his bangs had been pushed back. The small change accentuated the slit pupils in his eyes. 

She had so many questions. Nothing but an akuma could possibly explain why her boyfriend became Harold Hill from The Music Man. 

When Marinette fully came to after a moment, her eyes bugged out of her head as she took in the sight around her. Everything was in black and white, including them! She shivered, covering her arms as she felt a cold Spring breeze run through her. There's something off about the whole situation. 

Marinette glanced around the room. Anything modern-day had been replaced with nineteen twenties decor and equipment. Instead of her normal cellphone on her bedside table, she saw a rotary phone. Their pictures had been replaced with various black and white old-timey sitting photos of the couple, friends and family. The dressers now made of unpainted, real wood instead of the faux wood exterior. The bedframe had a brass and iron detailing which was not there before. The black out curtains framing the doors to the balcony now were embroidered with little birds and flowers. 

"This is balled up!" She spoke aloud, covering her mouth immediately after. "What did I just say?" A heavy MidAtlantic accent sounded from her which took her aback. Looking on the wall, she noted the time on the clock was 449. Only a couple of hours before she was going to be up. She leapt up from bed. "Applesauce! These akuma goons!" She cried. Maybe Hawkmoth wasn't a night owl, but he was a punk! 

Viperion yelled back from the living room. A tinge of annoyance in his voice. "C'mon, Mare! Transform! Let's blouse!" He leapt out the balcony and headed toward the akuma without delay. 

"I'm not a dewdropper! I'm coming!" Marinette huffed. "Tikki, spots on!" Looking down at her outfit, she had become another member of the early 20th century.

Staring at her feet, she noticed her shoes were two-toned Mary janes. She touched the edging of her flapper style dress, noting the material was chiffon. Gracefully, she ran her gloved hand down her elbow length sleeves. Spots were scattered throughout the dress, and black lace detailing trailed down on the outside of her sleeves, across her hips, and around her collarbone to her neck. A long, black pearl necklace hung around and down her neck past her bosom. With both hands, she touched her head and realized she was wearing a cloche hat. On her nape, even without a mirror, she could tell her hair was neatly styled in a chignon. Finally, she observed that her gloved hands were black with little black buttons along the sides. She ran her finger gently across the buttons on her right thumb. 

"Goofy!" she breathlessly said. Nodding at herself and slowly acknowledging that this was actually reality. Touching her mask, she could feel sequins and little beaded details. 

No, her mind wasn't playing tricks on her. This wasn't a dream. 

Whoever this akuma was must really dig The Great Gatsby era.

On another note, why was the 1974 adaptation better than the 2013 adaptation? Maybe it was the song selection and accompaniments... Jay-Z and Fergie were certainly choices for the 2013 soundtrack. Did they really capture the time period of the Roaring twenties well? She'll have to debate this with Nino sometime; he'd give better insight into what albums and scores made for good movies. 

She exclaimed, "Let's get moving!" Running out to the balcony and tossing her yo-yo in the air toward the theater where the akuma was spotted.

She arrived at the building overlooking the theatre across the street. She examined the team. Everyone seemed to be following the same jazz age dress code. Normally, they all had to be zapped to have an akuma affect them. This one must be exceptionally powerful - better keep her guard up. She didn't want a repeat of the last one. Subconsciously, wringing her hands together, she remembered the throbbing aches in her hands that she gets from time to time. Not sending her magical cure to fix the akuma damages has lasting effects. She knew she took Tikki's magic for granted. 

Viperion and the team were assembled and discussing the akuma - or at least, that's what she thought they were discussing. 

The team were talking amongst themselves, but Viperion and Chat were in a scuffle of their own. Uh-oh! Walking up slowly and silently, Ladybug listened in. 

Viperion's hands were balled into fists. "You know what?! I've been more than patient with you so far." He rattled off his issues, listing them one by one. "I've listened to your pining, your one hundred different nicknames for my girlfriend, your stupid puns, and your pompous attitude for too long. Your infatuation needs to end! You need to let her go."

"Or what?" Chat's relaxed, nonchalant question stirred Viperion's anger. 

"I told you already. You can be replaced. Easily." He spit his words, taking a step closer to Chat. Nose to nose, he threatened.  "Let. Her. Go." 

Chat guffawed, bringing his hands to his cheeks in a mocking way. "Oh, dearie. Whatever shall I do? This is it, folks! Bimbo here is calling the shots. Spread the news! The snake's officially declared before us and the gods that he is the big cheese of the group." He snorted. Challenging V by straightening his shoulders, he boldly said, "Last time I checked, my Lady was in charge. Not you." Poking him in the nose. Gently taunting Viperion as a show of 'what are you going to do about it?' 

"Yeah? Well, we're together, and you can't stand that she's mine. That she chose me." Viperion emphasized. 

Chat shrugged, dusting his shoulders. "She won't be yours for long." Shooting Viperion a knowing look. "I know her. I also know how much better off she'd be with me. I've always known. But now? I mean, can you feel it?" Nothing happened. Chat took a deep breath, facing up to the sky. Exhaling loudly, a large, cocky grin on his face. "The time's finally right! And your days together are numbered." 

-----------Continued on Link-----------

[tapsoda]

hey man i just wanted to say that i LOVE fishing, yeah man, sharks on the turf. i also love bow and arrows. yeah i also like dino chicken nuggies and plain cheese pizza, bang energy too. orange flavored anything 2 die for bro. i love hitting golf balls dude how crazy is that.. golf carts? dont even get me started man

[madseance]

A collection of posts I've found that get reblogged on specific dates each year. Feel free to add to the list.

—————

(Note that there may be one-day discrepancies between sources, due to time zones.)

January

9: Spiders Georg (2013)

February

14: Rest in pieces James Cook, you haole bitch (1779)

March

10: Super Mar10 Day

April

4: Down with Cis Bus (2014)

7: Leland Melvin Day (2008)

8: @Harry_Styles: RIP Baroness Thatcher .x (2013)

13: Neil banging out the tunes (2006)

28: Put Baby in Pelican Mouth (2017)

28: Ed Balls (2011)

May

3: My friend Jonathan started his business trip

20: Yahoo! to acquire Tumblr for $1.1 billion (2013)

25: Raccoon Birthday Party (1997)

June

28: Everything happens so much (2012)

July

20: Really big frog (2015)

August

6: Curiosity rover sings "Happy Birthday" (2012)

12: stepped on a plum (overripe plum) (barefoot) (2021)

12: Sue the T. rex's unearthed day (1990)

September

24: No Internet Dinosaur's birthday (2014)

October

1: Assorted cheese

16: God, I wish that were me (2012)

19: None pizza with left beef (2007)

November

5: Guy Fieri Day

December

9: Stylish but illegal monkey (2012)