#the lad ain't much but he IS also everything to me you know how it is

[blujayonthewing]

me in 2021: I mean there's an obvious single correct choice for whom I should play in this campaign reboot

my brain, insistently and correctly: no... there is Another

trying to build a new character for a rebooting campaign and right now my options are:

forest gnome rogue, something something actually uses the talking to animals thing? has red hair maybe??? I just really love inquisitive rogue idk???

OR an eldritch knight I’ve already fully built and even played in a one shot, whose entire personality and motivation I already have figured out, whose backstory I can build into this campaign really easily, who would be a great fit for this story on a bunch of different levels, but he’s directly based on something else and I don’t know if I can play him as his own character in a whole campaign without being, like, super distracted by that

[galaxiasgreen]

🍺🖤This Hell We Create

Sebastian x F!Muggle!Reader with eventual smut, minor Garrinis [E-rated, 4.8k words]

"You ain't got a bad face either, lad. You looking for a partner? My daughter is quite beautiful." You hope Sebastian will chalk all that to the mania, but he wiggles his eyebrows at you. "That she is, sir."

You have a bad day – Sebastian seeks to change that.

[MASTERLIST][FIRST][PREV][NEXT] [read on AO3, read on Wattpad]

TW: alcoholism, grief, coarse language, dementia/ Alzheimer's disease.

3. good days, bad days

When Sebastian collapses onto the barstool, you can see the withdrawal written like plain English on his face.

"You know what I want," he croaks. "Please."

It's another typical weekday in a late summer heatwave. You pour him a stout and slide it across the counter, and as he guzzles it greedily, Adam's apple bobbing to the rhythm, you note the haggard look on his face. He's handsome, that's for sure, but today he's also worn down, stretched and contracted by the universe itself to leave this brittle husk behind.

"You looked like you needed that."

He slams the glass down.

"There are good days and there are bad days," he says, panting hard. "Today... today is a bad day."

He drags his thumb up his temple, plying one of the veins that protrudes across. He's sweating, from the heat and the relief, and you watch a fat droplet roll down his face. It sets a course along his jaw, down the sharp angle of his chin before it finally drips onto the back of his hand.

"You shouldn't stop immediately," you say, forcing yourself to look away. "You need to give time for your body to adjust."

"You think I don't know that?"

You say nothing.

He recoils a little. "Sorry. Shouldn't snap."

"Irritability," you mumble. "It's a symptom."

"That explains why everything is so fucking annoying today." His eyes meet yours. "You must've seen loads like me."

"Eight years' worth, yeah. You're not the first and you won't be the last."

"Have you ever..." He swallows. "How many have beat it?"

The answer leaps fully formed onto your tongue. None. None at all. You've seen people try, make promises to God when they're broken and on their knees... and you've seen those same people stagger their way back to your counter, begging for respite the only way they know how. Sometimes you never see them again, when someone imparts the sad news dressed in funeral black.

"Just because I ain't seen it doesn't mean it didn't happen – doesn't happen. It's possible." Sebastian is much too clever for lies and sickly sweet encouragement, but you stare at him straight anyway. "You survived the passing of your sister. That toughens a person. You can beat this."

Yet he thrusts his empty glass in your direction, a wordless plea that breaks your heart. You refill it in exchange for more coin, and Sebastian doesn't take his eye off your movements – pulling the leaver down, pouring the dark gold liquid, letting the foam float to the top. A skein spills over when you pass it back to him, and he draws his tongue up the glass slowly to lick it clean. You track it hungrily.

"It's all bloody pointless, isn't it?"

You focus on his eyes again, coffee, ground, chewed up and spat out.

"I'll keep trying. Every day I wake up and I just want to drink, and I tell myself no, because that's how it's supposed to be, but everyone knows I'll come back here. If Ominis took my feet I'd crawl on my knees, and if he took my knees I'd drag myself by my hands. I'd find a way. It just doesn't stop."

"It stops," you say, "when you choose to stop."

"It doesn't work like that. You know it doesn't." He gazes at you stormily over the lip of his glass. "Just because you choose to free yourself from the maw of a beast doesn't mean it'll let you go."

Last time he got like this you threw it back at him. This time it feels different. Sebastian isn't angry at the world – he's just angry at himself, and that only warms you with tides of pity and sorrow. In the next stride you're hoisting up the bar door and plonking yourself onto the stool at his side, aware of his scent, musky with the heat, and the way his eyes hook onto you, never once leaving yours.

"I don't do... comfort," you warn him. "Trying to beat addiction is shit, and I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"I'm sorry that you're in this situation," you clarify. "Here's the thing though: you're going to fail. You're going to fail over and over. But what really matters is you don't give up when the going gets tough. You get up. Because the only one who can beat this thing is you."

He drinks again, slower now, contemplative, and he manages to stop a third of the way down.

"Not bad advice for someone who doesn't do comfort," he mumbles. "When I used to live up north, I got to know the barkeep at my local, too. She gave good advice. Must be in the profession."

"Must be all the listening to so many people whinge."

"You love it really." A smile peels out from his melancholy, which is gratifying to see. "Her name was Sirona. She was like a mother to me."

"Sirona?" You scoff. "You make a habit being on first-name basis with every barkeep, Sallow?"

"Nah, not all." He winks. "Just the pretty ones."

You roll your eyes and go to stand, get back to work, but Sebastian catches your hand. His fingers, though large and strong and ribbed with veins, are deceptively soft and gentle, and his thumb grazes over the skin, lighting up some darkness in your chest.

"Thank you."

It's simple, but it means the world.

When you wake one morning, the sunrise has long sheared away the darkness of your bedroom in the eaves.

That means you're late.

You curse yourself and throw off the blanket. It must be after seven. Damn it. You forgot to set your alarm clock last night, so overwhelmed with fatigue that you hit the sack immediately upon closing up the pub. Scrambling to make up for lost time, you throw on a day dress and apron and sprint downstairs.

Your mother stoops over the window sill overlooking the beer garden. The gnarled ridge of her spine protrudes out her back. What little hair she has is wispy and white, like a tuft of cloud, and her fingers crackle when they touch the glass, bony and desiccated from years of hard work.

"Mama—"

She doesn't turn around. "It's a pretty day, isn't it, dear?"

You frantically check she hasn't hurt herself – a scrape, bruise or God forbid, blood – but she seems unharmed, and you send a thank you upwards as you usher her towards the armchair. "It is, Mama."

"Where's Fluffy? Haven't heard him barking up a storm yet."

"Running around outside, Mama. Sit here. I'll get you breakfast."

Instead you race across the hall and almost crash into your papa, clenching the bannister for dear life. His withered face, sagged with age, makes no issues for his beaming smile, boasting his yellowed teeth.

"I dreamt of Margate today. We should go there, don't you think, dear? Last time we went you devoured three scoops of ice cream in ten seconds!"

Margate, the famous beach town over in west England. Your parents took you a few times when you were young, the only family day trips you could afford. The memories are fond and sentimental, though you haven't had three scoops of ice cream since you were about five.

"We'll see, Papa."

You slip a hand beneath his arm, trying not to flinch at how frail he is, and help him to the parlour. Your mama has moved from the chair again, back at the window, staring at the endless blushing sky. It's approaching the later months now, when the morning is a balancing act between sunlight and ink, and you have to squint to see the tiny mound at the back of the garden, where Fluffy has been buried for four years.

It doesn't matter that they forget, that they can't help themselves anymore. They're all you have left.

You feed them, you dress them, you wash them of their soiled clothes. You tuck them into their respective armchairs, then take a moment to clean yourself, checking periodically between sponging away last night's sweat to make sure they haven't fallen over and knocked into something. There's no time for grub now, so you head downstairs just as the front door bangs.

"Ada, hello."

Ada's low-cut dresses don't surprise you anymore; you don't have to imagine what she does after she's finished here for the day. She tears the cigarette from her lips and blows the smoke out, the stink of it stifling.

"Late today?"

"I slept in."

"Still counts as my time. And I want payment upfront."

It's getting more costly – two shillings, six pence – but you pay it, because the alternative is much worse. Ada bites each coin before pocketing them and silently making her way upstairs.

You snatch an apron from the side. It's time to work. You count the stock, clean the tables, accept deliveries and prepare food all before the other staff arrive – Bonny gives you a sweet smile.

"You aw'right, Miss?"

Her assaulter behind bars, she's been feeling much better about coming to work. It'll never be the same for her, but you take some comfort in knowing there's peace in closure.

"I'm fine. Can you rake the garden today?"

"'Course, but..."

"What?"

"Your hair's got a mind of it's own, Miss. You sure you're okay?"

You finger-comb it down. "Just get to work, please."

Your stomach growls when you open, but you push through for the late morning crowd. The in-house chef cooks breakfast, breads soaked in hot lard, smoked kipper on rye, beef gruels and broth, which only makes you long more for a moment to sit down. I woke up late, this is my punishment. Things only exacerbate when two – two ­– clumsy patrons drop their glasses, leaving you to clean up the shattered remains, and another woman gives you a bollocking for bungling an order.

Not even a surprise visit from Sebastian at eleven o'clock brightens your mood.

"You're early," you remark, when he sinks into his stool.

He raises an eyebrow. "And you're sharp. I thought I'd pop in. Bad day, huh?"

"I'm not an alcoholic."

"Hey, even you normal drinkers have Bad days."

Then today is a Bad day – a really fucking Bad day.

"I slept in. That's all."

He grins. "Guess it's my turn to comfort you, huh?"

"Don't need comfort."

"Like a fish doesn't need water?" When you shoot him a steely glare, he simply sticks out his tongue. "You're being crabby today. Ever thought about taking a break? Having a night out with friends?"

"No time."

"No time for friends?"

"No time to make them."

"Well, you've met Ominis. How about we share?" You wince; Sebastian laughs. "He's all right once you get to know him. You should meet Garreth too, he's a good sport. What about your parents?"

The bad mood colours with fear. "What about them?"

"You said they were retired. Do they live in the country?"

"You think I can afford to buy them property in the country?"

"Where do they live then?"

"Not here."

"Why not go visit them?"

"I see them every day."

It slips out. Fuck. A stupid mistake. His lips roll, but hopefully he can't see the way you've bent the truth.

"And you?" you ask quickly, busying your hands so you don't have to meet his gaze. "What about your parents?"

"Ah." He draws his thumb pensively across his cheek. "They're dead."

"Oh." Bugger.

His lips split into a grin. "The look on your face... relax, bar girl. It was a long time ago. Happens to everyone eventually."

You don't want to think about that.

"Tell me about them," he says, making himself more comfortable as panic runs riot in your bones. "Are they as crabby as you?"

"I am not crabby."

You are a little crabby.

"Nowt much to tell," you mumble, before he can retort. "Both of them worked here their whole lives, barely a break in between. Mama took some time off when they had me, but while I kipped she'd come down to wait tables."

His gaze flickers upwards. "You lived upstairs?"

Fuck. "Yeah. I mean, I do now, they don't."

"So you're here all the time? What do you do for fun?"

You slap your hands to the counter. Sebastian doesn't even flinch.

"I don't have time for a bloody interrogation, Sebastian. Do you want a drink or not?"

Instead the bastard leans a head in his hands, and bats his eyelids like a dewy-eyed debutante.

"You should swear more. I like it when you're crabby."

"You see that pot hanging up behind me? You're going to become very acquainted with it if you don't shut up."

He leans close until his breath whispers along your nose.

"I like you most when you're angry at me."

Before you can grab the pot, the stock room door groans opens.

"Dear!" cries your mama.

Every muscle in your body goes cold. You swing around, sure you misheard the voice, but it is her, smile wide and ignorant, shuffling towards you with the pace of a determined turtle.

You freeze. How did she get downstairs? And why? What the hell is Ada doing? And why isn't it the thing you're bloody paying her for?

"Mama," you step forwards to intercept her, "you shouldn't be here—"

"Oh, hello, young man," she says, regarding Sebastian. "My, you're very muscular, aren't you?"

You flush. "Mama—"

"Part of my job, ma'am," Sebastian responds smoothly. "I see where your daughter's beauty comes from."

You lose the ability to speak. My beauty? Your mother chortles. "What a charmer. What are you having?"

There's no beer in front of him, but still he says, "Stout."

"Ah." There's a twinkle in her eye. "That's my favourite of the beers. Did you know the name comes from its strength? Not one for the weak-willed."

"I didn't know that." His eyes slide to you. "Good to know I'm not weak-willed."

"I will never forget my first sip. Seventeen, managed to flirt with the barkeep for a pint to impress another man. Was sitting in that very stool. I knew he saw right through me but he gave me a pint anyway. Awful, didn't have the stomach for it back then, yet I drank the whole thing. Funny. I never saw the other man after that night, but the barkeep, well." She gives you a squeeze. "I think there was magic involved."

"I'll bet," Sebastian replies. "It's always good to believe in a little magic."

"Mama," you say tiredly. "Let's get you back upstairs."

"I miss Margate," she says as you take her arm. "We should go to Margate, shouldn't we, dear? The beach is lovely. Your father misses it so much, and you can have your ice cream."

"One day, Mama."

Sebastian gets to his feet. "Let me help you."

You can't say no. He ducks beneath the bar door and snakes his arm through your mother's. She looks at him strangely.

"Hello there. Where did you come from?"

It feels like your life is collapsing. This part of your image, carefully crafted to hide a terrible secret, has cracked upon the face – and what good is porcelain when it is no longer perfect? You put one foot after the other, mindful of your mama's pace, and Sebastian's, as you lead her into the stock room, and to the stairs leading back up to the house.

Ada is halfway down once you shut the door behind you. Her face is flushed. "Swear, I went to help your papa wash— I was only gone for two seconds—"

"Later," you snap. "Just do your bloody job now."

She heads back up the stairs, sheepish, as you and Sebastian follow up, and finally get her settled back into her armchair. You're frighteningly aware of how silent Sebastian is, how his eyes dart about, drinking in the details of your home, your space. Already you're thinking of a hundred excuses. She's just sick, this isn't normal, she didn't forget who you were in the space of a minute. It's useless now.

Sebastian will see through it all.

He doesn't say a word when you return back downstairs, after you lock the stockroom door. The day has turned from Bad to Catastrophic – the best you can do now is damage control.

Your pour him a stout and slide it to him.

"Please don't tell anyone."

He stares at it, confused. "What?"

"You can have free drinks, forever," you whisper. "Food too. Whatever you want—"

"Whoa, bar girl!" He laughs. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't need charity."

"Money then?"

"What makes you think I'll tell anyone?"

You flick your gaze between his eyes, but he's quite serious. "I know they're... they're..." mad, you can't say aloud, "but please, you can't tell anyone. I can't have them sent away to an asylum. They're all I have left."

"I'm not going to tell anyone," he says softly. "I promise."

It's not very reassuring, frankly. You paid Ada to take care of them, and she couldn't even do that. But Sebastian's never broken his word before, not with you, not with Bonny. You just wish he didn't know – wish you could erase the memory like it never existed at all.

"Are you going to take them?" he asks, breaking your train of thought.

"What?"

"To the beach?" Sebastian leans his head in his hands again. "Your mama wanted to go, said your father did too..."

You blurt a shrill laugh. "'Course not. The nearest beach is miles away and I ain't got the time nor money to get them there."

"I can take them."

That feeling you've been ignoring stirs again. You push it down.

"Yeah, all right, Sebastian, and I'll quit my job tomorrow to pursue a passion in ballet."

"Bet you'd look good in a tutu."

You flush despite yourself. "No offence, but you can barely walk in a straight line, and they can't leave the house!"

"I can be sober for a few hours. And if it's only one morning it'll be fine, right? It's not good to keep them cooped up there. Your mama seemed fine."

You shake your head. "No, no, she— and my papa— they aren't well." They're not right in the head anymore. "I appreciate the offer, but—"

"That's too bad." Sebastian shrugs. "I've decided to decline you."

"You— what?"

"I'm taking them to the beach." He makes it sound like he's offering to pick up some groceries at the market. "What day works best? Tomorrow? Meant to be nice weather. You can leave Bonny in charge for a bit."

"Are you nuts? How would you even get them there?"

"If I tell you," he grins, "I'll have to..."

"God, be serious, for once in your bloody—"

He takes your hand suddenly. This is only the second time now, but again you're totally arrested, focus pinpointed on the tenderness with which he squeezes you – with grip as firm as a promise unbroken.

"I can do it."

You swallow the hope down, but it persists like a lump. Is it a trick? Have you been lured by silver words and pretty smiles? Sebastian is a master of pretence and possesses not just a dark streak – but a demonic one. What if he hurts your parents? What if he turns them into the authorities? They're vulnerable people, and they're all you have left. Yet you can't bring yourself to say no anymore. You can't bring yourself to push him away, not when it seems like he would carry the world on his shoulders for a glimpse of your smile.

To make my parents happy, you correct yourself tersely. Parents, not me. He's doing it for them. That's why you're doing this too – for them.

"All right," you concede in a whisper. "But you can't just take them. I have to go, and I need to know logistics."

"I meet you here before dawn, I'll collect your parents, and you make you way over before us. I'll even let you ride my carriage."

"You have a carriage?"

"I can get one."

"You can... get one..."

"A man can't get a carriage now?"

"Not by tomorrow."

"I know the right people."

"In the police?"

He winks. "If I tell you..."

You roll your eyes. "Okay, so let's say I manage to believe you'll conjure a carriage from thin air as you escort my parents in God-knows-what contraption. How long will it take you to get there?"

"Don't worry about that. I'll be there before you."

The retort leaps onto your tongue, but when he gives you that look, the low-lidded eyes, the flicker of mischief, daring for you to challenge him, your words promptly back down.

"Trust me?" he asks.

How? The question burns, desperate for answers. Sebastian is an elaborate puzzle made of a thousand pieces, except most of them are missing and the few you have don't fit together.

"I'll try." You take a deep breath. "They're all I have left, and I swear to God, Sebastian, if you hurt them... I will hunt you down."

Sebastian slides the correct change across the counter, then downs his drink in one go.

"Oh, bar girl," he says with a laugh, "I'll be disappointed if you don't."

"We're going to the beach today."

If you were a lantern, the way their faces light up could fuel you for a hundred years.

"Margate?" asks your father, facing his wife. "You hear that, darling? The beach in Margate. I've been wanting to go there."

"Not Margate," you explain, and you hate having to temper their expectations, "but yes, the beach, Papa."

"We'll get you ice cream, dear," says your mama.

"I'd like that," you say, smiling.

You left Bonny in charge, giving her the keys and a list of hastily-scrawled instructions about what to do and when to do it. Bonny reassured she'd leave everything spick and span, and you're forced to believe her. You haven't taken a day trip out in – well, since your parents were healthy, and the anticipation excites you as it makes your stomach churn.

At precisely five-thirty, there's a knock at the pub's door. With the carriage and horses waiting on the road as promised, Sebastian leans against the wall with a cigarette jammed in his mouth. He jabs the orange stub into the wall when you bring out a sack of your belongings.

"You smoke now?"

"Good morning to you too. If you must know, it helps relieve the withdrawal." His gaze rakes you up and down, making you blush before it hooks on your footwear. "No, no. Go put some boots on."

"What's wrong with these? They're day shoes, easy to slip on and off for the sand."

"Trust me, you'll need boots."

By the time you've changed into a battered pair, Sebastian has already introduced himself to your papa.

"In the 70s, cor, I tell you, I was a looker," he says, and Sebastian, to his credit, appears genuinely interested. "Face like mine could win anyone over, but when I saw this darling sweet girl talking up that mug at the bar, I just knew she was the one. You ain't got a bad face either, lad. You looking for a partner? My daughter is quite beautiful."

You hope Sebastian will chalk all that to the mania, but he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

"That she is, sir."

You snort. It's all a game to him, but it plucks your heartstrings nonetheless, and you clamber into the carriage without looking him in the eye.

Sebastian closes the door. "I'll see you in a few hours."

"Where's the driver?"

"Don't worry about that, the horses know where to go."

Now that is absurd. "How the hell—"

"Ah ah, remember? Trust?"

You sit back in the carriage. "I said I'd try."

"Then try harder." He slaps the carriage side, which prompts the horses into motion. "Get some rest! It's a fairly long journey!"

You don't. The whole way out of the city and down the winding, country roads, you're wide awake, taking in the sight of the buildings and bustle morphing into trees and villages, and fields that roll for endless miles. The horses canter most of the way, so the sea comes into view after only a few hours, the land flat and sparse, and when the carriage stops abruptly, about half a mile out from the shore, you open the door and find the earth damp and moist beneath you, veined with a thousand rivulets of gilded blue.

"Boots," you murmur, smiling.

They squelch when you jump down into the marsh. The air is tangy with salt and sediment, but the sea wind is welcome in the heat. For a moment you shut your eyes, and all that panic and worry and dread – it simply melts away.

As vowed, Sebastian and your parents are waiting on the shore when you cross the marshland towards them. All three of them are as pristine as when you left – another oddity that you cannot explain.

Sebastian sweeps his arm out. "Welcome to Egypt Bay."

It's a small beach, if it can even be called that, settled in a crook between the sea and the mouth of the Thames. The river folds in on itself out beyond, creating a shelf of foam that constantly undulates in perfectly even ripples. The beach itself is a dearth of life, the sand wet but undisturbed, save only for a flimsy parasol Sebastian has stuck into the ground, and your parents, already padding their way towards the ocean.

"The beach!" your father yells. "Wheeee!"

"We vanished in a fireplace!" your mother cries. "Reappeared in another house!"

She must be mad, but you're too elated to care.

"I can't believe you did it," you breathe, facing him. "You actually did it."

He scoffs, hooking his thumbs into his trouser pockets. "Was there ever any doubt?"

"At least ninety per cent."

"Only ninety? Should've gone for the full one hundred. Would've made a much more satisfying reveal."

He drags out a cooling box and opens the lid – it's full of ice cream. Strawberry, vanilla, chocolate, pistachio, a few more flavours you've never tried. The ice cushioning each tub is intact. How the hell did he transport ice cream without it melting?

"Flavour preference?"

You mumble out a meagre whatever you're having, because you're too overwhelmed to do anything else, so Sebastian takes the chocolate – perfectly frozen – and scoops it into two tubs. The flavour is rich and decadent, better than anything you've had, and brings back another wave of nostalgia for times long past.

"Are you going to tell me how?" you ask, once you're finished.

There's chocolate left on the corner of his mouth. He thumbs it away, then licks it clean.

"If I tell you..."

"You'll have to kill me, I know."

"It's more like, if I tell you, I'd have to... never mind." You shove down the curiosity when he nods his head towards your parents. "They look like they're enjoying themselves."

Your parents intertwine arms and kick up the wet sand with childlike joy. You've been seeing them in monochrome this whole time – now they're in full colour, like some spark has been lit in both of their hearts. Even if it's only for today, only for this rare, precious moment, you are grateful.

"It's all they've talked about the last few months," you mumble. "It's the only thing they've really wanted to do. I care about them, but bringing them out... I've been terrified to do it."

"Because of the forgetfulness?"

"Because if anyone sees them. They're mad and they can't take care of themselves anymore, and if they get sent away... I'll have no one. Selfish, I know, but..." Your breath wracks. "They're all I have left."

There's sand in his hair and lashes, sweat that courses down his jaw, down the column of his throat, past his shirt, a slit open to the air, teasing more of his muscle and tattoos.

"That's not true," he whispers. "You have me."

In the silence, you see him watching your parents in earnest satisfaction. He's a stranger, freckled, drunk, odd, and not above using trickery and deceit against his foes. He shouldn't have to do this, he's not under any obligation. Yet he has, for no other reason than he can, and that it will make your parents happy. Seeing the delight on their faces releases a burden you didn't know you were shouldering.

Tentatively, you reach for his hand, and he responds in kind, until your fingers are knotted together.

"Thank you."

It doesn't encompass all the feelings in your chest, that iridescent gratitude you can't put into words, and how fast your heart beats and your fingers itch to touch him more. How your lips hunger for his.

It's simple, yes, but for him, you hope, it means the world.

The sun catches his face in ethereal light.

"Good day," he says, squeezing your hand.

You squeeze back.

"Yes," you say softly. "Good day."

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[Divider credits]

[filthymeat]

"Pleasure to Meet You"

young!Coyle x Leland Coyle

NSFW

“So, you’re telling me that you hail from the future?” The young police officer folded his arms across his chest. “And I’m supposed to take your word for it?”

“That’s right, sweetness.” Leland scoffed with a smirk, also folding his arms defiantly.

The two stood in a dimly lit room at the police station, their encounter with time travel having been peculiar from the outset. The younger officer had been preparing to leave for home when he caught sight of a shadow on the wall, prompting him to turn around and find a peculiarly dressed man with wires encircling his right arm standing there with an amused expression.

“I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink, sir.” The officer raised an inquisitive eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.

"How do you think I got here, huh?" Leland took a step closer to his younger self, drawing upon a long drag from his cigarette before exhaling a puff of smoke into the officer’s face. “It’s quite simple, sweetness. Because I am literally you.”

“Alright, let’s say I believe you for a moment. What do you want with me, then?” The younger man gestured with his hand, attempting to disperse the smoke. He did not appear disgusted by this behaviour; sometimes he engaged in similar antics with his wife, delighting in the annoyance it elicited on her face, knowing she could not retaliate.

“Oh, I simply wished to express my gratitude. Due to you, we possess power, respect, and value. We have everything we ever desired.” Leland leaned even closer to his younger counterpart, his grin still present on his scarred face.

“The hell are you talking about? I have all these things already.” Coyle furrowed his brow, clearly perplexed by the older man’s statement.

“This? Don't make me laugh. This is nothing. It means nothing. You literally lying to yourself.” Leland moved even closer, their bodies nearly touching.

“The fuck you think you know me, old man?” The young officer took a step back, attempting to create some distance between them, but the older officer remained determined, stepping forward until Coyle collided with a table.

“Because I am you. I know everything about you. Even more.” Leland pressed himself against the younger version of himself, placing his hands on Coyle’s thighs.

Again, Coyle furrowed his brows at the sensation of the older man’s growing arousal pressing against his groin.

“I thought you wished to express your gratitude, not assault me.” Coyle placed his hands on the officer’s chest, attempting to push him away, finding it difficult due to Leland’s continued pressure.

With a suddenness that surprised the officer, Leland captured his lips in a passionate embrace, swiftly attempting to thrust his tongue into Coyle’s mouth. The younger man gasped in astonishment, frozen in place, unsure of how to respond to this bold move. He felt Leland’s hands move to grasp his ass, squeezing roughly. Coyle emitted a soft moan into the kiss, closing his eyes, attempting to block out the smug expression on his older self’s face.

"Already enjoying yourself, hm?" Leland regarded the young officer's ruddy countenance with a growl. "No need to fret, lad. This is just the beginning."

After several moments of intense passion, Coyle found himself lying on the table, feeling the officer fumbling with his trousers. His breaths were ragged with excitement, anticipating what was to come. The older officer had been right; he knew everything. He pressed all his buttons, as if he knew precisely what to do next.

"Shivering, aren't we? Don't worry, I ain't that damn doctor to keep you waiting. I'll simply take you now," said Leland, forcefully pushing himself into the tight heat of the officer.

The younger man let out a loud moan, without even a moment to ask about this unknown doctor. Dear God, the pain was excruciating. He could not help but allow tears to well up in his eyes as the police officer began to move his hips against him.

"Fuck... so tight... so good," growled Coyle, grasping the Leland's hips with enough force to leave marks. "I know you enjoy it. You must enjoy it. It feels good, doesn't it?"

Leland seized the arms of the damn cop, attempting to halt him even for an instant, but the man proved too strong and focused on the pleasure he derived from the act.

The room was filled with the sounds of the younger man's moans and gasps, as he struggled to endure this brutal assault upon his person. Yet, after several agonizing moments, he found himself moving his hips in sync with Leland's movements. The pain gradually subsided, replaced by pure ecstasy coursing through his body.

"Fucking hell... now I see why he enjoys seeing me like this," panted Leland, as his hips began to move even more vigorously, striking all the right spots that elicited louder moans from the cop. "God dang but ain't it a heck of thing to feel necessary..."

It did not take long for the younger cop to tremble and clench around the member inside him. He lay spent and breathless, struggling to regain his composure after this intense pleasure.

"Not so bad, was it?" smirked Leland, withdrawing and gazing down at the flushed countenance of his younger counterpart. "I know you relished this too, sweetness, did you not?"

The officer could not find the words to respond, so he merely nodded, slowly coming to terms with the truth.

"It has been a pleasure to meet you, boy. I'm pretty sure it won't be our final encounter. Be prepared for me the next time.~"

Coyle nodded once more, unsure how to respond to this, and after a brief moment, he found himself alone in the room, lying on the dirty table with a soreness between his thighs.

"What the fuck was that?" was all Coyle managed to utter, sighing heavily as he tried to process the events that had just transpired.

[librivore42]

Poker face

Yet one more secret withers fic! This is for @benicemurphy. The people on Tolna's Vault are really handing me the most fun pairings to do. Ao3 link below, full text under the cut!

Poker face (1058 words) by Librivore42 Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Baldur's Gate (Video Games) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aradin/Rugan (Baldur's Gate) Characters: Aradin (Baldur's Gate), Rugan (Baldur's Gate), Remira (Baldur's Gate) Additional Tags: rated teen mostly just for Aradin swearing, and aradin/rugan is also mostly a technicality, I love being vague about everything Summary: Aradin's had a bad day. But a free drink and the prospect of beating someone at cards might be just what he needs to turn it around.

~~~~

Aradin was pissed. Not the pleasant, drunk kind of pissed, which he always wished he was more of after a bad day, but the much more usual ‘ragingly angry’ kind of pissed. A few drinks had been enough to quench his fire just enough that he didn’t feel like cracking the nearest person in the face, but he was still complaining to anyone who would listen. Or who wouldn’t listen. Or who - listen here you bastard I paid good money for that pint and now it’s-

“Slow down lad,” another man at the bar said as the offender who’d spilled Aradin’s drink beat a hasty retreat. “Stop looking for excuses to lose your temper.”

Aradin scowled, locking his attention to whoever had the nerve to interrupt. “Ain't your lad, mate,” he said tightly.

“Ain't your mate.” The man shrugged, gesturing to the barkeep. “Get him another, it’ll keep him quiet.”

Smug asshole. Getting him a drink to keep him quiet. Who did he think he- Aradin reached for his newly delivered drink, which of course he was going to take, and buried his quiet grumbling into it. He glanced over out of the corner of his eye, flicking quickly over the bright blue eyes, the weathered face, lingering a little too long on his arms as the older man leaned back and stretched. Handsome and definitely knew it, which just made him even more of an asshole.

Still, the interruption and the new drink had smoothed things over somewhat. At least Aradin was feeling less inclined to complain. He felt Remira visibly relax beside him, and felt a little twinge of guilt at how tense she’d been up to now. She needed to relax as much as he did, and she didn’t really need him bellyaching at her elbow all night.

She’d said as much an hour ago. He’d just been too annoyed to listen.

Right. He could try being a little calmer. Taking a breath, he tried to focus on his drink. Definitely not on the fact that the guy who bought it for him was definitely watching him.

‘Course he was watching him, Aradin was right handsome if he did say so himself. Feeling a little smug, the eyeing-up doing wonders for his mood, he started to make his way down to the bottom of the mug. Buying him a drink wasn’t subtle. The man would probably ask him up to his room by the end of the night, and Aradin might say yes if he was feeling generous.

After a decent amount of silence, wherein Aradin would have almost reached a state of calm had he known what it was, the man spoke. “Got a Talis deck.”

Rugan leaned back a little to look at him properly, eyebrows raised.

“Fancy a game?”

Oh he fancied hi- er- a game alright. Aradin quickly tipped the rest of his drink down his throat, nearly choking in his hurry, and wiped his mouth as he stood up to join the blond man at an empty table off to the side, Remira watching his back with a concerned frown the entire time. It wasn’t like he was going to start smashing the furniture, he did know how to behave himself in a public setting thankyouverymuch.

… it wasn’t like he was going to smash any furniture here.

Anyway that had been an accident. Clearing his throat, he settled down at the table as the man pulled out the deck of cards

“Sure,” Aradin said cockily “I can take your coin.”

“We playing for coin?” The man raised his eyebrows a little, as if that hadn’t been the intention all along.

Aradin smirked, too pleased with himself to notice how skilfully the man cut and shuffled the deck, twirling cards between his fingers like he was born to do it.

“I’ll leave you a little to buy yourself a drink.”

The man grinned and started to deal.

“You’re too kind. I’ll try not to bore you.”

Twenty minutes later, Aradin was ready to launch himself over the table. Remira grabbed him by the shoulder, her warning squeeze quickly turning into a full-bodied grip around his waist as he tried, unsuccessfully, to rip the man’s head off.

“Aradin, what-”

“He’s cheating! He’s feckin’ cheating!”

The target of his accusations continued to look thoughtfully at his cards, as if the younger man wasn’t physically being held back from throttling him and yelling his head off, attracting attention from the whole tavern. “Don’t need to cheat with you, lad.”

“Then how are you getting all the cards, eh?” Aradin managed to tip his chair over as ‘lad’ lit another fire under him that he’d like to bury from his fist into the man’s gut. Remira, who had just been getting a nice, warm buzz, winced as the unholy crash of the chair toppling over echoed in her just-drunk-enough-ears.

“Stop smashing the furniture, this is a nicer place than the last one-”

“You’re shite at keeping your face still,” the man said, though he did give Remira a half-pitying glance. Aradin was a whole mess of tics and tells, with every thought stamped across his face for good measure. Anyone could have told the young man that for free, and probably had plenty of times, but he just hadn’t been listening over the sound of his own ego.

Loud egos were the norm for the young lads, though. Especially ones who were so shite at cards.

Rugan was having a much, much better evening than he’d expected to. The lad was listening now.

Was that his listening face or his ‘imagining punching Rugan in the face over and over’ face? He was an interesting shade of red and looked like he might pop something, so probably the second one. Another prod and he might explode. Rugan put down his cards, another perfect hand, and smirked.

“And you’re a sore loser.”

“Oh that’s IT-” Cards scattered as Aradin flung himself at where the man had been exactly a second ago. Instead he sailed past his shoulder and collided with the ground as Rugan gave him the cockiest grin he’d ever seen, sweeping his hand over the table to make all Aradin’s coin disappear like a magician.

“Asshole!”

“Barkeep.” Rugan smoothed down his sleeves as he headed for the door. “Get him another. It’ll keep him quiet.”

[aces-to-apples]

Wait nope second try: hi! Hello! Can i ask for tedependent or royjamie with either: ❛ if you called just to get off on my voice, i’m hanging up. ❜ or “Touch me there. Right there.” :3c

He isn't serious when he answers Jamie's call with, "If you called just to get off on my voice, I'm hanging up."

This dumb thing between them is new and weird but also old news and completely normal and Roy won't explain it any better than that. Can't, because he has no fucking clue how to.

Season's over; Ted's fucked off back to America; Keeley won't take either of them back because they're so fucking annoying. And the worst part of all of that was thinking that the obnoxious prick he spent years hating is both his best fucking friend and his, fucking, bisexual awakening or whatever won't want to be either of those things anymore after their fight over Keeley. Except he did, he does, and now they're doing whatever it is they're doing, fucking about, and that's how Roy answers the fucking phone at one in the morning. Like a prick.

Predictably, Jamie whines. "I didn't even say nothing! You didn't even say hi!"

"Hi," Roy deadpans as the final minutes of Bake-Off continue to play quietly on his TV. "If you called just to—"

"You're such an arsehole, I don't know why I even called you," Jamie grouses, and there's a bang like a heavy door swinging shut underneath his words.

"Don't know why you called me either," Roy says. "Thought you went out with the lads. Gave you permission to drink for it and everything."

Jamie sighs. "Yeah, dead nice of you, that," he says. "I dunno. I just—missed you. You should come out with us, next time."

Clicking through to the next episode, Roy rolls his eyes. "I'm not going out drinking with you menaces for a whole night. I have things to do," he lies.

"Liar," Jamie says immediately. "Phoebe's with her mum and I'm not there, am I? So you ain't got shit to do."

"Well then maybe you should have stayed in with me so I'd have something to do," Roy fires back.

There's an odd silence after that that makes Roy wince. He opens his mouth to apologize.

"Yeah, no, that's," Jamie says, cutting him off. "That sounds way better. Let's do that next time. S'way more fun. Hey, can we have sex yet, please?"

"How much have you had to drink?"

Jamie hums. "Mmmmthree...? Maybe four. I don't know."

"Well then we're definitely not having sex tonight, are we?" Roy scoffs and, miracle of miracles, Jamie makes an agreeable noise. Neither of them are interested in discussing why they haven't had sex yet, it seems, which is nice. "Maybe next time."

"Yeah!" Jamie cheers, loud enough that Roy has to pull his phone away from his ear. Then, "Oi, my ride's here, I gotta go. See you tomorrow?"

"Fine," Roy sighs, as if he's not looking forward to it. "Not at 4 a.m."

"Pshh, obviously! Right, 'night, love!"

Roy misses the entire signature challenge of the new episode thinking about that.

[eorzean-tale]

FFxivWrite2024 - Prompt #3: Tempest

"Not to put too fine a point on it, Captain, but you're an openly out Garlean these days, ain't you," Buckle argued as the Jack and Captain entered the mess. Sven looked like he wasn't really feeling this conversation, but Buckle was trailing him anyway, eager to make his case.

"Interesting," Cookie thought to themselves as the pair continued a conversation that, by the sound of it, had been going on for a while now. The diminutive cook had a nose for intrigue, and all they needed to know this was going to be worth their while was the tone of Buckle's voice. He was an amicable lad, so when he sought conflict like this, Cookie just couldn't help themselves. The pair hadn't noticed them yet, and they took advantage of their short stature by making sure they remained out of line of sight. How convenient these tables were, when they normally lamented that they weren’t made for someone their size.

"What is your point then, Howling?" Sven rumbled as the sound and smell of a man pouring a cup of coffee came to Cookie's senses. Unfortunately, the two of them were now out of their line of sight as well, and they didn’t dare peek. Or even breathe very deeply, for that matter. This was the most interesting thing that had happened on the trip so far. Cookie would rather asphyxiate than betray themselves and ruin it. 

“Using his real name,” they pondered. “A serious situation indeed.” 

"My point is, we can't just fly into Kugane unannounced and don't expect a shit ton of parchment work to be filled in, and then when they find out the ship is captained and main-engineered by two Garleans there will be even more parchment work, and before we know it, we'll be old and grey before we can go and find Trove and the others," Buckle said, his tone betraying his frustration. It had been a long trip for those among them who were worried for their missing comrades, but the Jack had been taking it harder than most.

"If you want to come with, you can just ask me to come with," Sven sighed, seeing through Buckle like he was made of glass, his feelings and motivations out for the whole world to know. “Kugane was never…” 

Buckle didn’t let him finish. “I know that, and I know you want to go and support Charlette and Cain and all the others, but you’re the Captain, Captain.” 

A pregnant silence bloomed as the two men sized each other up, staring into one another’s eyes as they tried to read one another. Peer into each other’s minds and motivations. Or so Cookie assumed. They still couldn’t see the Captain and Jack from their hiding place, after all.

Sven was never one to feel like ‘breaking first’ after such a battle of wills was a weakness, and today was no exception. He sighed, then broke the silence first. “You want me to stay on the ship.” 

“You have to. Crew’s been quite tolerant of everything so far, but they need you after all that. They need to know they matter as much as the Unsung.” Buckle’s tone was gentler now. He knew the mood of the ship as well as anyone. Only Cookie was better attuned, and the cook found themselves nodding along with the Roegadyn’s sentiment. But they also knew the captain, and mouthed along as he replied, knowing what he’d argue.

“We have Castaways down there as well, what about them?” 

Cookie could hear the smile in Buckle’s tone, as the Jack recognized he'd convinced the Captain. This was just the last leg of it. To ease the the other man’s own concerns and frustrations with the situation. “Well, that’s why you’re sending me, right? The trusted Jack. I can fly Cain and Charlette in with a cutter - much less hassle that way, and then you lot get the parchmentwork done and not give the locals more reason to be wary of us, aye? I’m not asking you to sit this one out entirely, Cap. Just… stay with the ship until we can actually anchor. They’ve been here this long without dying horrible. They can wait a few suns. Charlette will understand.” 

“Who died and made you this convincing,” the Captain sighed. He wasn’t happy, Cookie could hear it as clearly as the thunderous expression they imagined on his face would give it away. “Admit it, you just want to faf about down there without your captain breathing down your neck.” 

The two men laughed, and Cookie let out the breath they’d been holding. Crisis averted. Lame. Back to work it is.

[chidoroki]

182 Days of TPN - Day 152

Chapter 152: "Time"

I just remembered how we didn't even get a Zazie face reveal in the anime since this arc was skipped. We saw him in a flashback all chained up in Lambda but his head was down. Anyways, seeing his absolute rage along side his smiling tiger toy is quite an amusing contrast.

All these years spent inside a deep TPN hole and yet I've only realized that Legs had a father last week. I'm so bad with keeping tabs on demons, I swear. It's crazy how she took over so easily, like not one noble opposed her or anything. Of course I can understand why they kept quiet because who in their right mind would wanna go against this hungry as hell psycho and become her next meal.

Conveniently placed death butterfly.

Look at this boy, all smug with that smirk of his since his great plan managed to actually throw the entire demon society into chaos and wipe out the nobility and their queen.

Learning that Norman actually understands and speaks demon language was a very welcomed shock for me. I once believed Norman picked up on it from his alliance meetings with Geelan, but the demon language is hardly used anymore by the demons themselves so the burning question became when and how did this lad learn the language, especially when he was so busy. Came to find out some time later that Smee had some research about the language (apparently) which Norman eventually acquired, but then that just altered the original question to how did Smee gather notes on a lost language. Seeing Norman speak demon also brings up fears about the possibility of whether or not he knew everything that Ayshe has been saying this entire time, including her intentions to kill him (which he did), so naturally I wanted to see them interact more from here on out (but we didn't get that lucky. just twice). He's a genius for learning a dead language but a bit foolish for keeping a potential assassin so close (even though he kept the situation under control).

Sigh.. boss, do you really think of Ray so rarely?

Ehh, the smell of blood has to be overwhelming right now.

I know he made the deal with Emma about possibly changing his mind about this whole extermination plan upon her return, but Ray is standing right there too, honey.. please acknowledge my boy.

Favorite panel/moment:

Hayato dumbfounded upon learning that Ayshe can speak and understand human language. Ain't this chapter just a bilingual surprise.

I dunno whether I should be impressed or baffled that Zazie's attack manages to deal that much damage without actually destroying Legravalima's eye right then and there. Still a great panel of him regardless.

End of volume 17.

[cannibalcoyote]

Unraveled Ch.8: Dull

Ch.7 Ch.9

"Cocaine though... Must be a one-off." Ellie spoke as Alec poured himself a cup of tea.

"They're not that type of family, Chloe's not that type of girl." Ellie continued to say - though she seemed to be attempting to reassure herself. Her hands on her hips as she observed Alec at the kitchen; myself standing to the side of Alec, peering through the blinds to the gray sky.

"Nobody ever is." Alec states in response, continuing to make his bitter tea.

My mind drifts away from the conversation, it's not that I'm uninterested, it's just that I can't seem to focus. What Jack said to me at his shop still replays in my mind, the confrontation still fresh. I just can't believe he would say that to me, after how close we've gotten, I've even started to think of him like a second father. I understand why he doesn't want to tell anyone, but he should know that I would never break my promise, and that him threatening to tell others of my experience frightens me more than anything.

In my peripheral I notice Ellie walking away, probably something to do with the dull phone ring I heard a few seconds ago. Shaking my thoughts away, I attempt to settle back into reality when I hear someone - I presume to be Alec - speedily walking out of the door and down the hallway. I turn just in time to see the door close, quickly following after him. I just manage to catch a glimpse of him as he slips into the restroom. I'm a little confused as to why he left in such a hurry, it's not like we haven't had the restroom available at all times.

I decide to just go back into the room and wait for him to return, sipping the bitter tea he made whilst daydreaming.

_______

Alec walks back into the office and I quickly put down the now empty mug, slowly walking after him until he enters his private office. Deciding to give him his space I head over to my own desk.

The workers in here still make me uncomfortable, their eyes are scanning everything, and I don't like how that one guy is looking at Frank's desk. Having strangers here in general makes me uncomfortable, though there ain't much we can do about that at the moment.

I glance up as I hear Ellie telling off a phone line guy, this guy specifically makes me feel nauseous. I don't know why, but just being in the same room as him makes me uncomfortable, uncomfortable to the point of having an internal argument on whether I should just continue working at my desk or walk into Alec's office with my laptop and continue work from his couch. However, I don't have time to decide as Alec quickly strides out of his office, calling for us to follow him.

"Carlisle, Miller. Postman, come on." He speaks as he shoves on his jacket, not even sparing us a glance. Ellie pushes me forward as I stumble back into reality, hastily tossing on my jacket as well before following after Alec.

_______

We're out here in a nice, quiet part of town. I remember looking for a house out here, but everyone living in this area has a family, and being around them just made me sad. The children of said families either reminded me of Pippa or Daisy, both of which left me feeling guilty, ashamed, and morose.

Deciding I need to pull myself together and get back into this investigation I listen carefully to Kevin. He's a nice lad. I've seen him a couple of times on my occasional early morning walks, but we've never said any more than 'hello's' or just the normal greetings.

"Yeah, that's my round, up past Briar Cliff." He responds, hands shoved in his pockets casually.

"And did you work the route last month?" Ellie questions, hands folded politely in front of her as she awaits his answer.

"I think I've done every delivery out there for the past eight or nine weeks, I'd say." Kevin states as he estimates how long he's been working his route, glancing slightly between Ellie, Alec, and myself.

Ellie also gives the both of us a small glance, about to say something before I decided to speak,

"Did you ever see Daniel Latimer during your rounds?" My voice is steady, holding no accusation, maintaining a neutral tone.

"Yeah, all the time. He used to deliver papers up there to a couple of houses, including the hut... When I heard, I thought, 'I've only seen him a couple of days previous'." I can tell he's answering honestly, I really don't think Kevin was involved, but I know we have to be thorough and be completely sure.

Stepping back I allow Ellie to continue her questioning,

"And did you ever talk to him? I'm thinking particularly the last week in June."

"I might've waved, and maybe said 'hello'. I didn't really know him to talk to." Kevin replied, his voice holding a hint of confusion as to why last week in June was important.

"That's it? Just 'hello'?" Ellie clarifies, her mind likely wondering as to why the information Jack gave us isn't adding up, myself wondering the same thing.

"What else would I say?" Kevin asks, curious as to what else he would say and why he is even being questioned about it.

An empty pause fills the atmosphere, the information we were given isn't adding up. I look over to Alec's stern and stoic figure, he hasn't said a thing the entire time, just listening and reading Kevin's body language. As the silence drags on, Kevin's curiosity turns into confusion, his mind now realizing that something must've been said about him that led the police to warrant questioning him.

"You didn't ever have a conversation with him?"Ellie breaks the pause

"No" Kevin responds.

"Or an argument?" Alec's voice is steady and calm, he must also know that Kevin is more than likely not a suspect. I cross my arms and glance away from him as I listen to Kevin's answer,

"What am I gonna be arguing with a paper lad about?" He responds, probably a little weirded out as to why they would ask if he ever argued with Danny.

"And where were you Thursday night?" Ellie continues, asking him for his alibi.

"Thursday, I'd have been with the boys. We got hammered. Six of us, there was. Finished at 4:00, My missus woke me up at 7:00, I was out cold." Kevin explained, nodding his head as he remembered his whereabouts.

"We're gonna need the names of all those you were with." Ellie replies, Alec glancing over at her before going to me, then back to Kevin.

"But I mean, you don't think I had anything to do with it?" Kevin concerningly asks, pointing at himself in disbelief.

"Oh, it's just to rule things out. Nothing to worry about."

"Alright, thank you Kevin." I quickly say as I attempt to draw Alec's attention away from Ellie, pushing them forwards.

I can almost feel Alec's struggle to hold back telling her to shut up. The questioning was going good, and Ellie is doing fairly well for her first murder, but her and Alec will most definitely continue to butt-heads on this case.

"Don't say that." Alec speaks in a quiet and frankly tired tone, being careful to not allow Kevin to hear their conversation.

"Don't say what?"Ellie asks, confused as to what she's done this time."

"No need to worry." Alec replies.

"Why not?" Ellie questions, finding no fault in her past words.

"Don't reassure people. Let them talk." Alec states. Hearing him talk like this reminds me of when he would be forced to mentor new recruits back at our old station.

"Can I just say, you can't just walk up here and try to mold me. I know what I'm doing, and I know how to handle people. And you can keep your broody bullshit shtick to yourself." Ellie frustratingly rants for a moment as they approach her car.

Releasing a tired sigh I lazily grab Ellie's arm and pull her away from the car and a little down the sidewalk.

"What are you doing?" Ellie questions, still frustrated from her prior conversation.

"Ellie, I get that you don't like our new boss, but that doesn't mean you ignore everything he says!" I grunt as I glance over to see Alec leaning against Ellie's car.

"Don't tell me you're taking his side!" She responds, now even more frustrated.

"Listen, whether you like him or not, what he is saying should not be ignored. You shouldn't have reassured Kevin, he would have continued talking had you not said that." I explain calmly.

Her expression goes from frustrated to conflicted, hopefully my words get through to her, the last thing we need is for her to make her first murder case harder than it already is.

She releases a quiet sigh before looking up at me, giving a small nod. I smile in reassurance before giving her a playful shove and walking off to my car.

_______

I decide to take a detour, sending a quick text to Ellie before turning my car away from the station, instead heading towards the grocery store.

The real reason I postponed going back to the station was because I needed a breath of air away from everything. With everything that's going on, feeling bad and haunted by my past makes me feel selfish, but that doesn't stop my memories from affecting me; I feel disgusted and shameful of myself, I should be worrying about Beth and finding Danny's murderer, not worrying about what happened to me.

I pull into my parking spot, the steady foot and car traffic isn't really helpful, but it's a welcome change from the foot traffic of the phone men in our office.

I just sit in there, my eyes glazed over as I stare through the windshield, trying to convince myself to get out and buy something I want to eat. The only thing that awakens me from my internal thoughts is the sound of a loud scrape.

I jump in my seat, praying it's not a crash that will require my attention. Instead of finding two drivers arguing, I see Beth, who, in a fit of rage, is slamming her hands against her car.

My recent thoughts forgotten, I speedily shove my door open, and run towards Beth. I grab her arms lightly but firmly, attempting to stop her from hitting the car and possibly hurting herself.

"Beth...Beth stop." I calmly speak as her rage simmers down, only her sadness remaining as she leans herself against me, slowly crouching to the ground, myself following.

I can hear someone else calling her name, but I'm too focused on her to care. I only realize it's Paul when he crouches down across from us, a concerned look displayed upon his face.

"Are you alright?" His question is obvious and stupid, but it is what you would expect anyone to ask. Though I saw his question coming, Beth's answer was far from expected.

It takes her a few moments before she responds, her entire face seeming dazed at everything that is truly happening to her.

"I'm pregnant." She states, leaning against the car as though both physically and mentally exhausted. Her response shocks me, I can only imagine how this affected her when she first found out.

Shaking myself out of my thought-filled daze, I assist Paul in helping Beth up, Paul lifting her by her left hand whilst I provide stability on the other side.

We sit in her trunk for about a minute before Paul breaks our silence.

"Have you told anyone?" His question was, once again, obviously going to be asked. But that's not to say that it hadn't preoccupied my mind for the past 60 seconds.

"I only found out about two weeks ago." Came Beth's reply. Usually when someone talks about their pregnancy they are filled with happiness, but with Beth I can hear how exhausted she is.

"You don't want to tell Mark?" Paul asks as he glances over at her.

"It's complicated" Was Beth's short reply.

"Of course." Paul accepted, though you could see the worry and confusion at her current situation.

Placing my hand gently on her shoulder, I give her a small smile as she glances at me.

"Do you have anyone you can talk to? Your mum, maybe?" I question calmly.

"No. Not now, and don't you go telling her either." Beth states, her voice serious and her tone final.

Another silence ensues for a couple of moments, and I know for a fact that Paul is going to ask her another question. As much as I love Paul, he tends to ask a lot of questions whenever he's in a situation like this.

"What are you gonna do?" He questions, I hide my grim smirk, knowing now is not the time to find humor in knowing your friends so well.

"Can you stop asking me bloody questions?" Beth retaliates, beginning to become frustrated.

"Beth, you know he isn't trying to upset you." I state, trying to calm her growing tension and Paul's growing uncomfortableness.

"No, no, it's alright, I do ask a lot of questions, apparently." Paul explains.

"I'll leave you alone." Paul continues, standing up, nodding his head to both Beth and myself before heading on his way.

I can practically hear Beth thinking, though I don't know what to say. So much has happened in such a short amount of time, and finding out your pregnant after your son's murdered must be a very shocking and unnerving thing to deal with.

"Beth.. I know you don't want to talk about this, and that's okay, but are you going to be alright on your way home?" I question softly, trying not to enrage the already on-edge Beth. She simply gazes forward at the bustling people before glancing towards myself, offering a short smile before replying.

"I'll be fine Els, you go on." Her voice is strained, almost as though her body has had no rest in quite awhile. Unsure of her answer I simply nod and get up to leave, but not before saying,

"If you ever want to talk, whether it's just in general or about this, I'm always here." I state comfortingly before nodding to her and heading off to my car, the thought of buying myself a snack long having left my mind.

Ch.7 Ch.9

[tartt9]

"If footy talk is interesting conversation t'you, maybe I ought t'talk to more Americans." Jamie is nearly certain not all of them would find the idea of his job - his life - interesting. They've got their own football over there, though, from Jamie's very minimal understanding of the sport, there's less feet involved and more hands; he has no fucking clue why they call it football. It's not football. From what he's picked up from Ted, it's super bowls, and chiefs country, and Denver broncos, and seven layer dip. And Denver broncos are gay, maybe? Jamie's got no fucking clue.

Jesus Christ - does she not know Roy Kent? "Kent. Roy Kent." He says, like it's fucking obvious. "He's here, he's there, he's every-fucking-where," he sings, as if that'd add context clues. How someone would know of him without knowing about Roy is something Jamie can't quite wrap his head around. Not only is Roy Jamie's coach, he was his captain three seasons ago, and he was one of the greatest English midfielders of all time before that, with Chelsea. If Jamie were any younger, or any less... Jamie Fucking Tartt, #9 for Richmond, he would surely go on an hours-long rant about how, statistically, Roy Kent in his prime could outplay just about any player on the pitch now. Jamie's best moves are taken straight from Roy's match film. Jamie was a midfielder long before he was a striker [ and he's back at midfield now ] - that's why he plays Pep's version of total football so well, and Ted's version even better - he knows Roy Kent like the back of his hand. But she seems to have no clue who he is. There was one point that Roy said that Jamie's skill made him question his own faith - that was long before Jamie was close enough to him to respond that Roy was Jamie's faith growing up. Raised without religion, the lad in the council house in Manchester attached himself to the man in the Chelsea blue 6 kit and never looked back. Jamie would've killed to play alongside Roy in his prime. Chelsea captain Roy, who didn't hate himself and everything around him the way he did when he was Jamie's captain. Without Rupert Mannion whispering in Jamie's ear about how Jamie was so much better than Roy could ever dream of being, that Jamie was better than Roy in his prime by a long shot. Jamie whistles Roy's chant as he accepts the hand sanitiser, rubbing it between his palms.

"It's about a half an hour on the tube, wouldn't want t'make y'walk two hours t'get there." Jamie would've walked - it's a nice evening, but he's also a man who can walk for hours without getting tired or bored. She asks him more about football, though, and he won't deny himself the opportunity to talk about the game that he loves. "Erm - no, no, I'm from Manchester, I grew up in City's - Manchester City's," fuck, it feels weird to use the club's full name, "Academy, which is... tough t'explain to Americans, it's, like... they raise us t'be footballers, yeah, y'don't just get plucked off'a the street and thrown into the Premier League. You get plucked out of youth leagues when you're, like, under 9 - happened for me when I were 8 - and then when you're 9, y'start with the Academy, and they raise y'up, and train you, and pay for your education and allat, with the intention of making you into a professional footballer, y'get me? Anyways - I was raised with City, I played for City for five years, then I joined Richmond." He's already ranted about the Academy system, he won't try to explain a loan to her. Especially with the odd circumstances surrounding his loan. Easier to just say I joined Richmond. "That was four years ago. Played with Richmond since 2019." Years - seasons... they're one in the same, in Jamie's mind. "But - erm, yeah, I mean, yeah, you're talking about Lasso, Ted Lasso, he actually moved back t'America, like, recently. But the kid prolly heard you asking questions, and thought you'd identify with an American - anyways-! Ted's... he ain't your typical gaffer. But he brought a special environment t'the club, made Richmond a home for every single one of us. He's a good man, 'e is, Ted Lasso."

she playfully taps her head at his correction, as if to say, but of course, how could i forget? secretly, she's thankful for the knowledge. part of her is curious about his life — it's not every day you meet someone of jamie's caliber, and despite pretending to know it all, jaswyn knew very little. she knew he played for ... oh, what was it? AFC Richmond, and he was one of the best strikers in the league. anything outside of what the little boy shared burned a hole of curiosity in the back of her mind. who was the guy standing in front of her? "yeah, wouldn't have known it was you without him," she nods in agreement, scratching her temple with a cheeky grin. "i'm sure i still would have bumped into you, though. probably would have had less interesting conversation."

she trusted in the universe that way — in fate. jaswyn believed in signs, in things happening for a reason. she had to, with her past with her situation, if one could call it that. it was all she had left. as jamie gestures, she gives an internal sigh of relief, thankful not to have made a fool of herself . . . yet. she half-checks to make sure he's following behind, beginning to leave the alley. "roy?" an eyebrow's raised at the name. a teammate, perhaps? flatmate? did jamie need a flatmate? she wasn't exactly sure the pay scale for athletes outside of the US. "i could go for nigerian food," the girl agrees, pulling out hand sanitizer to cleanse her hands after leaning against the brick of the alley. extending it towards the male, she offers some, inclining with her eyes. "thanks for this," jaswyn murmurs, gesturing to well - everything. he's allowed her to take his night hostage, and though he's unaware, she's in desperate need of something light, and fun to get her mind of what's waiting for her at home — the mess she's made. "have you always played for richmond? the kid told me you've got a coach from America. i saw his video with that college football team, he's from kentuck - no... kansas, right? how do you like him?"

[mountsmason]

Tiring Secrets; Part 1

summary: you have been secretly dating Mason for six months but you've had enough of the secrecy and lies so you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine.

pairing: mason mount x reader

a/n: my first ever fic request, hope I've done it justice @yourmypurpose <33

You and Mason had been dating for 6 months and it was pure bliss up until recently. He insisted that the relationship should be kept under wraps, away from the public eye. Initially you agreed, but you had never thought that also included his friends and family. On the odd occasion you did bump into his friends, Mason would simply say that you're a friend of his sister’s. He would act like a stranger to you in public, whereas behind closed doors was entirely a different story.

Mason would sneak up behind you as you would cook and start peppering you with kisses on your neck, and things would escalate pretty fast— long story short, the food would get burnt and you would have to order takeaway. He was beyond considerate, knowing how to take care of you when you had a bad day at work or unbearable period pains. Mason was the perfect boyfriend. Maybe that's why you agreed to the whole secrecy of your relationship for so long.

Date nights were spent at either his house or yours. Cooking dinner together or ordering takeaway and watching a movie. As much as you loved it just being the two of you in your own little bubble, you sometimes wished that he would take you to a fancy restaurant or even to the cinema.

You were on your lunch break when you decided to give Mason a call and talk about your plans for tonight. It was his turn to cook which usually means that he would be making his chicken pasta with his secret sauce. And you would choose tonight’s film, which was obviously going to be a Marvel one.

“Who’s that Mase?” one of his teammates asked in the background as Mason picked up the call.

“No-one important mate, just my sister’s friend,” he replied nonchalantly as he went to another room to talk to you.

There it was again.

No-one important. Just my sister’s friend.

It wasn’t easy hearing that time and time again, each time wounding you deeper. You suddenly didn’t want to talk to him anymore.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, my boss is calling me, Mase, I’ve got to go,” you hung up the phone quickly and put it down on the table, taking a deep breath as you stared at the lock screen of you and Mason. It was a mirror selfie of you and him, his face buried in your neck to keep face hidden.

You drove straight to Mason’s after working overtime, ready to collapse on the sofa and spend the evening cuddling with Mason. When you unlocked the door to his place, you went straight to the kitchen, assuming that Mason would be cooking the pasta, but the kitchen was empty.

You went upstairs to his bedroom, surprisingly finding him all dressed up.

“You didn't have to put that much effort for date night," you joked.

“Ha, funny, I'm gonna meet the boys for a drink,” he laughed dryly, fixing his hair in the mirror.

“But it’s date night,” this isn't the first time he's bailed on you, and it was starting to bother you.

“We can rearrange,”

“Or how about I come along too so you can finally introduce me to your friends?” a glint of hope in your voice.

“It’s just gonna be us lads, another time maybe,”

“Oh okay,” you brushed it off, like you always do, hiding your hurt behind that fake smile you've gotten all too used to.

Mason walked downstairs, ready to leave, with his phone in his hand with the loudspeaker on.

“The club we always go to, yeah, right I’ll see you in 5,” Mason confirmed with his friend as he opened the front door.

“Mase, we’re gonna find you someone, you ain't leaving alone tonight, I promise you that mate,” Mason hung up the call, looking flustered.

“What the fuck was that about?" you gave him a look that said it all.

“Nothing he’s just kidding, Y/N listen-" he reached out to reassure you but you moved away from his touch, crossing your arms.

“Just go, he’s waiting for you,” you were beyond pissed off and nothing Mason could say would make you feel better. So he left as you heard his car drive off.

In a spur of the moment decision, you texted your friend.

Y/N: you up for some drinks?

Y/F/N: always 😏😈🤪

The taxi pulled up just outside the club Mason always goes to.  You paid the driver as you stepped out with your friend. The tight dress you were wearing hugged you in all the right places, a dress that was practically screaming that you're single.

It didn’t take your friend long to find someone and take them to the dance floor. So you decided to have a drink at the bar, seeing a familiar face.

Mason and a few of his friends were sitting at the bar, enjoying some drinks.

There was a spare seat next to one of Mason's friends, so it would make sense for you to sit there. You ordered your drink when someone offered to pay for it, that someone being Mason's friend.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Mason looked over at you with wide eyes and confusion.

“Getting a few drinks with some friends," friend actually, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You two know each other?” his friend looked at you, and then Mason.

Mason hesitated, and at that moment, it was time to give him a taste of his own medicine.

“Yeah he’s my friend’s brother,” taking a sip of your drink, trying your hardest to hide your smirk.

Mason stared at you in utter disbelief, a feeling you were very familiar with.

“Mason, are you not going to introduce your sister’s friend to all of us?,” one of his other friends called out.

That’s when you realised that Mason lied to you about it just being the lads going for a drink as some of them were there with their girlfriends. You couldn’t believe how blatantly he lied about it, when all you’ve ever done is be honest with him. Then, for a brief second, your wondered what else he might have lied about. But instead of wallowing in self pity, you downed your drink and ordered another one. It was going to be a long night.

Mason sat at the bar as you flirted with his friend, as he would lean in close to whisper something that was not at all amusing, yet you would laugh as if it was the funniest thing you had ever heard. You ignored Mason the entire night as you felt his gaze burning into you.

Eventually he had enough of everything as you saw him leave the club. That’s when you knew you had taken it too far.

“I’m gonna go get some air,” you explained to Mason’s friend, rushing outside.

When you stepped outside into the cool breeze of the night, Mason was pacing around, but stopped in his tracks when he saw you.

“Do you wanna explain to me what the fuck all that was?” He was furious.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you pretended to be clueless.

“Why were you flirting with him?” Hands running through his hair in frustration.

“I wasn’t-”

“Don’t you dare try denying it Y/N, I was fucking sat right there the entire time!”

“It’s not nice, is it? Being treated like that,” you admitted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You rolled your eyes in response.

"That anger and frustration you’re feeling right now, that’s exactly how I feel every time you go out, the rumours and pictures the next day of you and some girl. Every time you refuse to acknowledge that I’m not your sister’s friend but your fucking girlfriend,” 

“I do that to protect you!”

“That’s bullshit Mason, I don't need protection from anyone! Or maybe it’s not that, maybe you’re embarrassed of me that’s why you want to keep me hidden,”

“That’s a fucking lie,”

“Is it though? Then explain to me why you didn’t bring me along with you today, when your other friends were sat there with their girlfriends,”

Mason was silent. And that told you enough.

“I tried really hard to make this work, but it fucking hurts you know,”

“Y/N… please don’t do this,” Mason's voice broke and your heart shattered into a million pieces.

“Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be Mase,” you whispered softly, your lip quivering as tears threatened to escape. With one final look, you walked away before you changed your mind.

The last thing you heard was Mason shouting “fuck" as you got into the taxi and went back to your place.

part two

[m-jelly]

Hi Jelly! Since Valentine's day is coming soon, can I request a fic which is also a mix of the Letters from Levi event (I really love those letters sm!)

Basically where Levi (who is good at writing) is asking reader to be his valentine, but he is not much of a talker so he writes her a letter to be his valentine. And during their valentine's date he was gonna confess but messes it up, and the next day he gives her an apology letter and confesses

I hope it ain't too complicated and take your time rlly ily and stay safe༎ຶ‿༎ຶ💞

Double letters from Levi. Tried my best with him being a good boy at writing in the first one, then our lad just fucking loses it in the second. <3

Brat,

I am writing to enquire if you would perhaps do me the honour of joining me on an outing? It will not be a group outing, but you and I alone together. To put it simply, I am asking you on a date.

I have observed you for a long period and have admired the way you move and work. You are strong, charismatic, thoughtful and inspiring. I know I am but a simple and rather rough man, but I am aware that my writing abilities are somewhat decent.

But I digress.

The point of this letter is to request your presence on a date where you and I will go somewhere pleasant. My intention is for you to feel happy, safe and elated with how things proceed. I have planned out the whole day, so you need not worry about a thing. Let me take care of you.

If you accept this invitation, then I shall collect you tomorrow from your room and we shall head out. I do not want the base knowing we are going on a date, the reason being, Hange would not drop it and I would have to murder her. I also want you all to myself.

We will be walking a bit, so make sure you are comfortable with the things you pick to walk in. Do not worry about yourself too much, because you are so breathtaking in everything you wear. You’re just so wonderful. However, comfy shoes are a must in order for your precious body not to get hurt. I do hope that you accept my invitation and look forward to this date. I am very much looking forward to it.

I have something very important to discuss with you on this date. I have feelings and thoughts that I wish to reveal to you. I do hope you hear me out. It’ll be hard for me to get how I feel out, so be patient with me when I reveal my feelings.

Yours,

Levi.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My sweet brat,

I cannot apologise enough for the fucking mess I had with my shitty mouth. I know this letter isn’t as fancy as the first one, but my emotions are high right now and I just need to get this crap out.

I tried to tell you how I felt, but it became shut a jumbled fucked up mess. I know you said to me it was okay and that I should take my time and write it all down in a letter, but damn it brat I wanted to tell you what’s going on in person. I was going to be brave and smooth like I was advised, then I was going to open up to you.

You were just so beautiful and you had such cute blush on your face. I was just in awe of your beauty that I just could speak. I might as well shoved my damn foot in my stupid mouth because that would have made a lot more sense than I did. How can one person be so fucking adorable and cute? You should be made illegal! Fuck, the things you do to me. I felt like I didn’t deserve to be at your side with the way you looked, how amazing you smelt and how you just lit up the room.

I enjoyed our date, I really did. It went perfect up until I couldn’t speak for shit near the end. The walk together as we held hands was blissful. I was nervous over the picnic I made, mainly because I didn’t know if you’d mind that I did a lot of research about you and made everything you love. I was very flustered when you hugged my side as we talked, but I adored it so much. Hugging each other as we enjoyed the nature around us was so wonderful. I got a little nervous when we lay back and looked up at the sky and watched the clouds together, but making up animals and things in the clouds was so much fun.

Everything was perfect until my stupid mouth fucked things up. So, I’m doing what you suggested and writing things down. I love you brat. I’ve loved you for a long fucking time. I’m so madly in love with you, that I just stumble over my words because I’m so passionate about you. I love you with every fibre of my body. I want you to be mine and only mine for the rest of our lives. I want the teashop together. I want the children and I want to grow old with you. I love you so fucking much. Please say you love me back.

If you do and you enjoyed our date as much as I think you did, then can we go on a second one? We can also work together on our paperwork just so we can spend more time together. I just want to be around you all the time. I want to be near you. This is all I wanted to say to you. This is what was held in my heart all this time. I love you.

Forever yours,

Levi x

[igamer12]

HEY REMEMBER MY SILLY "top 10 oingo boingo songs that are spamton" POST???? WELL I DECIDED THAT I WANT TO ELABORATE

DISCL4IMER: I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO COUNT TO 10 (i'm just gonna add everything that goes into my head) NOR IS ANYTHING IN ANY PARTICULAR ORDER!! ALSO BRIEF MENTIONS OF CHRISTIANITY IF YOU CARE!! every song is gonna have a lil description on why i picked that one too :-]c

capitalism - i actually won't give a description to this one. you knwo exactly why i picked this one.

insanity - ooh ahh deep sad. also themes of christianity, being left out and shit. also the chorus might be about him trying to fit in with the addisons, even tho he isn't exactly like the rest of them (also plays into my little headcanon that spamton is a rip-off addison instead of straight up being one, i might make a whole post about it too)

on the outside - being so weird that even the weirdos don't like you! tough! just adding up to spamton's themes of loneliness. also the "this is where it all begin" makes me picture spamton looking at that old posted of him, ripped near the dumpster he lives in. sadge :-(

nasty habits - IT JUST GIVES ME THE VIBE!!!!!!!!!!!! the way danny sings in this song is my voice headcanon for spamton actually lmaoo

tender lumplings - I KNOW THE SONG IS LIKE HALF A MINUTE BUT LIKE. YEAH

private life - yeah i really like spamton's themes of loneliness lol

who do you want to be - might be about spamton's relationship with mike??? question mark??? :-P i have a few theories about our guy mike that could fit this song but overall i dunno it's a bit of a stretch BUT!!! THE ENERGY IS SO SPAMTON

it only makes me laugh - everyone hates me, nothing in my life goes right and all i can do about is laugh!! pretty fitting methinks

gratitude - OOOOOH MY LORD IT JUST. IS SO SPAMTON LIKE. I HAVE A WHOLE DAMN AMV IN MY HEAD WITH THIS SONG LIKE???? it a perfect fit for him and noone can tell me otherwise i will fight for my life defending this opinion of mine

same man i was before - I'M NOT THE SAME MAN I WAS BEFOOORE!!! EVERYTHING YOU DO IS WROOONG

fool's paradise - "i got successful but at what cost" is also a theme i like about spamton's backstory, canon or fanon. i actually have a small drawing in my head with the song in head maybe i'll do that when i'll have free time :-DD

running on a treadmill - ok it's a bit more of a stretch but i think it plays into the desperate part of spamton quite a bit. you know, running in circles after the guy behind the telephone so he can be famous again, or wanting to access the neo machine or wanting his friends back or,, something i dunno. there's a lot of "being desperate" when it comes to spamton actually. but again, it's a bit of stretch lol

ain't this the life - FIRST OF ALL BEST OINGO BOINGO SONG EVER SECOND OF ALL IT FITS HIM SO MUCH. RICH BITCH!!! HEHEHE also just in general , have a whole amv with him and this song in my head send help :-D

i'm so bad - a bit of a stretch (again) but i like to think of him while listening to this song. evil little guy

only a lad - ok this one is just a meta joke about how the fanbase potrays spamton. "sweet petit little boy 🥺" he literally encourages you to k//ll people lmao

(LISTEN I JUST HAVE A SPAMTON *AND* AN OINGO BOINGO HYPERFIX HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO NOT COMBINE THEM??)

(also no boi-ngo and no dateott bc i didn't listen to these albums enough bc i just prefer the older ones lol sorry boi-ngo and dateott fans)

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: You Always Meet Twice

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37455736/chapters/97632291

Chapter 13

The failed interview convinced Morrie that Nick needed help. He had always been worried about his idol's excessive drug consumption and now he had proof: It fucked up his brain, distorted his personality. While being stoned, Nick enjoyed to be awful and said all these horrible things he felt sorry about later. This couldn't go on. Therefore, Morrie waited until Nick was absent again, what didn't take long, and prepared for a in-deep talk with the band, because if he wanted this to work, he needed their support. As usual, he found them in the living room. They were playing cards this time.

“Hey, Morrie”, Chris said when he saw him walk in, “look at this...” Kneeling on the couch, he proudly showed Morrie his cards. “Ain't that a winner?” The young musician insecurely eyed the cards. “Depends on what you're playing.” “Morrie, come here”, now Brad waved him over. Morrie went and Brad began to whisper to him, trying to find out Chris' hand. Before Morrie could answer, Chris protested loudly and Matt demanded to hear it, too. Morrie's held up hands silenced them all. “Hey, I'm playing fair, even though you shouldn't show your cards around if you want nobody to know...” “See, this is why I trust you”, Chris said with a smug grin.

“Uh...lads?” Morrie noticed they were about to continue the game. They looked at him again. Chris patted the seat next to him. “Just play with me for now, we can take turns.” “Uh, I...” Morrie stuttered although he was glad to sit down. “Can I have a word with you lads? It's about Nick...” The band exchanged glances before they put the cards down. “Is he still mad at you?”, Matt asked, clearly worried. “I'm so sorry, but if it comforts you, he yelled at us, too. We should've told you...I though Virgil kept you posted or that Nick is fine with it...I don't know. He'll come around. He likes you.” The others nodded. Morrie felt a sting in his chest. “How do you know?” “Uh...every time he mentions you...” “He gets dreamy eyes and starts drooling...”, Chris added. “Yeah, he's really embarrassing in public since you're here”, Brad said. “...and he says all the nice things...” Morrie nervously wiped his hand on his leg. “I guess that's when he's sober...” “We can't repeat what he says when he's drunk.” They broke out in laughter. Morrie's mouth corners twitched, but they only convinced him that he was the one who needed to help Nick.

“Guys, I know he's not mad at me, but he's unsteady. From one moment to the other, he acts like a completely different person.” “Yeah, Nicky is special. But that's what the fans love”, Chris pointed out. Morrie grimaced. “I think our Nicky is...he's sick.” The band looked at him. “He's losing control over himself. It's not only the failed gigs, it's whenever he's in public, he's so stoned he can't create a single phrase that makes sense. I don't know how long this is going on and if it's getting worse, but we can't keep this up. We have to help him.” “Nick did always love his Joy”, Chris began. “It's not only his Joy”, Morrie interrupted him. “It's also his candy and scotch and everything else he's taking.” “It's part of his charm”, Chris insisted. “Goddammit, just open your eyes! It maybe was funny years ago but now it's about to damage his reputation! I went to a radio show with him yesterday and he...it was a disaster, embarrassing! We're lucky that the paparazzi don't exploit this yet! 'Nick Lightbearer went insane', 'The once genius brain has turned into mud', how's that for a headliner? We have to stop this!” The band exchanged more glances, exhausting Morrie's patience. “What? Is there another big plan behind this? Is Nick supposed to fail because Virgil is bored with him? What did I miss?”

Matt was visibly uncomfortable when he answered: “What are you planning to do? Nick is married to his Joy...You can't just take it away from him...” “Why not? We search every spot in this house and collect as much as we can.” “You know, he can just go to the next dealer and get it all back...” “That's why I need to talk to him when he's sober!” “Morrie...” Matt shook his head. “That'll only piss him off.” Chris looked back at his cards. “Yeah, at first, until I talk some sense into him!” Chris raised his head again, almost rolling eyes. “Don't look at me like that! He's your bandleader! Don't you care at all? We are his closest friends...perhaps...I still don't get him, but I do care about him.” “This is going on for too long”, Brad finally tossed in. “You don't know, but...” He sighed. “He's been taking Joy since it came out and he has these specials from Sally Boyle and he loves Sally, so...” Morrie's guts cramped hearing about Nick's love interest.

“Morrie, dear, didn't you notice that we take candy too?” Chris began to talk into the silence that Morrie's disapproval had caused. “There's still a difference unless you're masters of playing clean”, Morrie countered. “I'd rather take you out than our Lightbearer.” “Oh, Morrie, all that build-up for a date...” Chris adjusted his hair. Morrie ignored him. “You'll do this no matter what”, Brad said. It wasn't a question. Morrie was glad that at least one of them followed him. “I will, but who am I kidding? My chances are about zero if you're against me.” Another moment of silence. The band studied the cards but they didn't continue their game. Morrie lingered, inwardly begging them to come around.

“We could try...”, Matthew said quietly. The others turned their heads. “Mattie..”, Chris said as if he was shocked. “No, hear me out! I don't know Nick for so long. You two have already been here when I joined the band, and you acted like it was all right. And he had Terris to take care of him. But now that he's gone...I don't know if Nick is okay. He's changing. So, maybe we should do something... He likes Morrie, so if he talks to him, it could work...” “There's a lot of could and would in this plan”, Chris countered. “What if Nick freaks out just like when he saw the tapes?” “You can always feed him his Joy when this fails.” “Oh, then it's suddenly practical!” “Then there's no return anyway.” They fell quiet and looked at Brad.

“You think it's too late?” Morrie's eyes were begging. Brad sighed again, putting the cards down. “Mine was better than yours”, he said to Chris. To Morrie he said: “Nick has always been taking that stuff since I knew him. Sure, he had Terris to appeal to his senses, but that's over. It's unfair to force Morrie into this role.” “But we can give it a chance”, Morrie urged him. “I know I'm not his oldest friend, but I have to try this!” Brad wiped his neck. “Ah, well...fine. I didn't know I'll ever betray Nick like this, but you can't do this without me anyway...I know where his secret stash is. “You kept that to yourself until now?”, Chris teased him. “I thought we're friends!” “You never asked, also I never touched his stuff. I never crossed that line.” Chris' smirk fell. “But without it, the whole plan is useless.” “Thank you”, Morrie sighed. “Thank you, you don't know how much this means to me...” “He's gonna kill us”, Chris said.

In the next hours they went ahead with their plan. Firstly, they emptied Nick's secret stash, all feeling unwell by this. Morrie got better however when he finally held the damn pill bottles in his hands. Because the candy was spread all over the house, they had to go for an Easter egg hunt to find it all, even the pills that fell between the pads or got stuck under cupboards. They were a lot. Morrie also decided to reduce the amount of scotch to the storage in the fridge. “What are we doing with them?” Matt held up a rubbish bag of pill bottles. “Well, we can't just keep them here and he might find them in the waste”, Morrie pondered loudly. “He won't expect them in my place though.” They looked at him. “If this is just a big scam to get at Nick's candy...”, Chris began. “Come on, if I meant to collect his drugs I wouldn't need you. They're everywhere.” “We'll see. I'll keep an eye on you tomorrow. Just one stutter or stagger I'll know.”

They went together to Morrie's home. Morrie felt odd, hiding the pills this way, but he didn't have a better plan. He would've felt bad about trashing Nick's property. Back in the Pad, they they all waited for the showdown.

As soon as Nick was back, it didn't take long for him to find out that all his Joy and Sally's specials were gone. In the middle of a night, he stormed into the living room where the band was sleeping and planted himself in front of them. “Alright, this is all hilarious and shit. I laughed hysterically. And now, where's my stash?” Morrie still wondered what disturbed his sleep when Nick started interrogating them. “Chris, I know you're a funny guy. Do you have it?” “Have what?”, the guitarist slurred, wiping his eyes. Then he looked at Morrie with a questioning expression. “My stash! Don't play innocent, I know I didn't take it all!” Nick was about to jump at him. “Uh, Nick?” Matthew's quiet voice made him stop. The rockstar now glared at the bassist. “You...” “No!” Morrie shot up, shielding Matthew with his body. “Nick, I need to have a word with you. Please, it's about your stash...”

“Yeah, what about it?”, Nick slowly came closer, gaze fixed on him. Morrie got up from the couch and came closer, too. “You have to stop taking it, please, it changes you. Nick, you're a brilliant musician, but not when you're stoned.” Nick frowned. “What is this, Morrie?” “I'm trying to help you. You destroy your mind with all this candy and I'm not willing to watch it.” “Where's my stash?” “Please listen, you don't need it, it's only holding you back!” “No, you listen to me, you little shit!” Nick flared up. “You tell me where my stash is this instant or I kick your ass back into the dirt where you came from!” Morrie was taken aback by this, but he didn't give up. “I see what it does to you! I'm not gonna help you kill yourself!” “What are you talking about? Are you crazy?” “I saw it! Do you remember how that interview in Luskus Holm went? If the press wasn't so fond of you, everyone would laugh at you by now!”

Nick looked puzzled for a second. He obviously didn't remember, but he found his anger back. “What the fuck is this about? You can't just mess with my stuff!” “I had to get you sober to talk to you. You don't remember anything, do you?” “I remember enough!”, Nick dismissed him with a quick hand gesture. “So you're telling me that there's one thing you didn't like about me and you immediately steal my shit?” Morrie felt the need to justify himself. “Not only one thing! You're always gone, and this is what you do, right? I thought you're a hard working genius, but you're just wasting yourself!” “How do you know? I never took you with me! You're making this shit up!” A voice behind Morrie interrupted: “Nick, we know.” A second later, Matt stood next to Morrie. “He's right. We're only trying to help.” “We...?”, Nick asked quietly. His eyes fell on Chris. “I'm sorry, Nick. Believe me, we're not here to to mug you off.” Nick looked at Brad.

“Nick, mate, how long do we know each other now?” Nick's left eye twitched. “Ah, forget it. Let's say, we go back a long way. You don't have to believe these kids but believe me. You've been fantastic on Joy once...and if you don't overdo it, you still are. But lately...” He shook his head. “That stuff doesn't do you good.” Nick stared at him without anger. He was rather shaken. His gaze wandered back and forth between his band members. “So, it's you four against me...” “No, we're not against you...” “You have five minutes to tell me where my stash is before I fire you!”, Nick shouted, furious again. “Yeah, now the joke is on you guys! Not so proud of your plan any more, right?”

“Nick, please, listen to yourself! All that because of some stupid pills!”, Morrie begged. “Just bring me back my stupid pills”, Nick answered coolly. “Huh, that's a song right there.” He clearly enjoyed to see the band struggle, decorating it with a sardonic grin. “Do you like that you keep forgetting everything you do? That people have to drag and carry you around and you stutter nonsense...” “None of that is your business! You're here for the shows and nothing else! I don't have you take you with me! I did this out of sheer generosity and this is how you thank me?” “How did you plan to even get there without me? Or are you saying you got totally wasted because I was with you? Well, thank you then! It was a pleasure!” Morrie became angry, too. “I do what the bloody hell I please when I'm in my favourite district!” “And you fail your own promotion just for fun!” “Oh, dear”, Nick said with fake empathy. “Don't you read the papers? Our record is a hit! My promotion is perfect!” “Yeah, now everyone's gonna buy it to hear all the flaws you pointed out! You were so eager to pick at them, it was painful.” Morrie was bitter now.

“It has flaws, sorry about that!”, Nick snapped. “That's not what you said when you came into my house that night! Does that mean you lied to me again?” “I...I...Did I say they were the best songs ever?” Morrie realized that he could just say 'yes' and catch Nick in a trap. Instead, he was honest: “You said you liked them and we could turn them into something.” “See!” Nick shouted, pointing a finger at him. “I liked them! That's a big difference, my dear Morrie! They are flawed, believe it or not!” “But why didn't you change them then? You brought out the record like this, knowing that you didn't do your best? That's even worse!” “I liked it then! I was in a hurry, okay? Shit happens! We'll try again!” Now Morrie was on the edge of tears. “I worked hard for it, you know? I would've been okay with waiting...” He gulped. These damn tears wouldn't help him at all.

“Morrie, could it be that this is not about the drugs?” Nick's voice became sharp, making Morrie's chest hurt. “This is about your wounded vanity! I don't call your songs a masterpiece and - oops, my stash is gone! It's a personal vendetta and you found yourself three idiots to help you! Congratulations!” “Nick...” “Shut it! I figured you out! Ever since you came here you're pressing me to tell you that you're the greatest composer in the world! I appreciate your ambition, Morrie, luv, but you're still far away from my level! Just chill and learn from the master, then perhaps one day you'll make it. Don't pout. No one's born a genius. Now give me my stash and I'll generously forgive you this time.” Morrie was speechless. The Nick in his imagination was always understanding. Proud, yes, unbearably smug and flirty, but always willing to listen and curious about new things. This Nick here was nothing but offended, unfair, reckless and offensive. Morrie told himself that it was the drugs, that Nick was still addicted and his brain panicked.

“Morrie...”, Chris poked him. “We can't win this.” “Do you think it's just about my vanity?” “No. This is serious.” Morrie could've hugged him there and now. “I see you already have fans,” Nick sneered. “I'm waiting.” He crossed his arms. Everyone looked at Brad. “We could make a deal”, the drummer said calmly. “This doesn't have to be one-sided. If you stop taking candy, we do something for you in return. How's that?” Nick made a dismissive face and shrugged. “Sweep the streets for all I care, all but playing in my band.” “Ah...No chance?” Nick shook his head. Morrie didn't give up. “Nick, just try one day without pills, please! I fear for your mind, your memories, everything!” His idol eyed him, now curious, as if the words broke through to him. “I'm okay, Morrie. I feel worse if you invade my privacy.” The young musician looked into the green eyes that meant so much to him. He didn't move.

“Morrie...” Chris poked him again. “I can't”, Morrie whispered. “You know, my new Joy is already on the way here, right? This is just a symbolic act”, Nick explained. The pianist shook his head. “I can't! Take it from wherever you like, you won't get it from me! I'm not putting up with this!” “Morrie, take a breath, okay? We'll go together, it's only a short hop”, Chris said. “No...” “Well, you get it then”, Nick said to Chris. “We can't without Morrie”, Matt answered definitely. “Oh, how clever of him.” The rockstar glared at Morrie again. “This is all working out perfectly, right?” “Leave him alone, okay?” Brad tossed in. “Can't you see he's not here to take the piss?” “So, no one of you will bring me my stash back?” Chris held up his hands. “We can't.” Brad went on: “Forgive him, Nick, he's young and kind-hearted. Give him some time and he'd turn as cold and uncaring as us.” “But you betrayed me too!” “Yeah, well, we recalled for a second that we love you. Stupid mistake, but not even we can be ignorant all the time.” Nick's gaze wandered from one to the other. Morrie was still begging with his eyes. The rockstar then turned around and left without another word.

[purplerose244]

My thoughts on Seabound!!! 🌊🌊🌊 (3/4)

SPOILERS ALERT!!!

Yep yep yep, I'm liking this season a lot! 😍 Although I hope we'll get into a more frantic situation now, like with more battles and more bonding moments (Nya and Maya hopefully, but with Bentho too 🦈🦈🦈)! We got half a season to go, I'M READY!! 😎😎

Alright, here we go!

GENERAL THOUGHTS

I do like the season a lot, maybe MoM was a little more cohesive? Idk but it's not a big complain, I still love it so far 😍

Also maybe I would've liked more interactions between Nya and Maya about how they've been apart for so long, they had a chit chat but I would've loved even more. Maybe with Nya saying that it was fine and she grew up only to realize she is still hurt by that, even though it wasn't Maya's fault. I still like how they did it, I wished there was more that's it 🤷‍♀️

While I do make sense to Maya's behavior, that while it seems a little different from Hands of Time it had its logic in my opinion, maybe Ray feels a little weird? He seems less courageous than before, and it was established that he is a hothead like his son so that came off as unusual 🤔🤔

But I do love the fact that he's here and he's bonding with his son, for real, I've been waiting for this for so long so I'm happy nonetheless 🤩

Maybe I'm just easy to please and I take all I can get idk 😅

THE STORM AMULET

Oh, are we gonna address the wind element? It feels like we haven't really seen a Morro reference since Hands of Time, that would be cool! 😍 I mean, why even mentioning the wind then 😅😅

Well what do you know, they tracked them, who saw that coming?... me, I saw that coming... we all did probably 🤷‍♀️

Jay took upon himself making a quick recap on how Ninjago will be destroyed this time, thanks Bluebell 👌

Yep nyeheh electricity makes Nya go crazy for sure ❤💙 ... wait it wasn't a Jaya pun?

Jay wear your seatbelt please, you risk you life enough 😅😅 Pff lol "are we there yet" and they are actually there, biggest plot twist I've ever heard of 😂

LEGO HUG 💜💜💜

And with someone who might as well join the League of Jay apparently 💙

I liked The Island yet it was not as exciting as I hoped for, but now understand the meaning of it. The ninja helped the keepers and they are all allies. Without The Island the moment where Mammatus gives Nya the amulet wouldn't be as meaningful

Is it just me or Nya looked even more gorgeous during that moment?... just me huh? Okay then 😂💕

Wait that's a fake? Wait... UNCLE POWERS?!? OMG THAT I ACTUALLY DIDN'T SEE COMING 🤯

Here I thought he was just messing around, he always makes things harder 😅 Or maybe better? I mean, they kinda missed a bullet on this one...

BENTHO IS SO SWEET AND COOL OMG HE IS ALREADY OUR FRIEND 💙🦈💙🦈

Jay somehow had his own TV show in the past and yet he's got that horrible acting skills wth 😂😂😂

Kalmaar is a very cool villain, like, deeply evil. Not only he's calculated and merciless, he stops at nothing to get what he wants. And the people that get in the way? He wants them to suffer because they had dared to confront him 😳

And yes the voice does help a lot, I'm sorry I'll keep saying it until the season is over 😂 (or even beyond? Please cast Giles again LEGO 🥺🥺🥺)

Awww Nya no my poor girl 😢 Jay wanted to hug her to comfort her he is so sweet my SHIP ❤💙❤💙

MOM PEP TALK MOM PEP TALK!!! 🤩🤩🤩 How cool was it?

Like, this isn't even Maya asking Nya to believe in herself, this is her saying that she KNOWS her daughter can do anything when she puts her mind into it. FINALLY SHE SEES HOW AMAZING WATER GODDESS IS 💜💜💜

MORE LEGO TEARS OMG THIS SEASON IS FILLED WITH TEARS 😱 Which... kinda makes sense considering it's a water based season 😂

Nice one, and now? NOW WE GO BACK TO KAI COLE AND RAY YAS!!! ❤🖤❤🖤

RIDDLE OF THE SPHINX

That is... surprisingly Egypt theme like? It feels like a title coming from the Fire Chapter of season 11... well we got two fire elementals so 😍😍

SPARRING KAI AND RAY

I REPEAT SPARRING KAI AND RAY!!! SPARRING KAI AND RAY!!! ❤❤❤ Lol Ray got old, but how can someone blame him? He did touch death while aging in Hands of Time, I'm just happy he is alive 😂

Yep, master prankster Wu, that's what I love 👌👌 I always thought Wu had become a father figure for Kai at the beginning, so seeing Ray and Wu in the same picture feels very wholesome to me 😚

Ah, uncle Powers, I both love you and hate you so freaking much 😌😌 But you make cool slides nonetheless 😂

ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME WITH BEAUTIFUL SMITH INTERACTIONS??

BECAUSE I LIKE IT KEEP GOING 🤩

Oh no you guys are stranded on an island whatever are you going to do?? It's not like you had already before and managed to survive (Skybound) or you got stranded on a rock in a sea of sand filled with giant monsters (Fire Chapter) or you were on a freaking COMET in SPACE (Rebooted). Yeee, this is the worst yet 🙂

I'm starting to think these ninja are just a bunch of drama queens so no matter what happens, it's always hopeless 😂😂 I feel like I'm kinda right on this one honestly 😛

Whoa whoa WHOA WHO IS NYAD THIS SOUNDS VERY COOL???

Aww I like that, while Ray told his kids stories about dragons and how they traveled through the Underworld, Maya told them about Nya the first water master that could summon whales 💙❤💙❤

Pff imagine if it turned out Nya was the master of fire, carrying a very water based name? Lol

Maya: I would know if it was possible!

Nya: Yeah, like she knows that I can control a bit of ice because it's frozen water

Maya:...

Maya: YOU WHAT

I find both interesting and very annoying that this explorers club thinks so highly of themselves, to the point the deny to aid even the FREAKING SAVIORS OF THEIR FREAKING LAND 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

Misako got good reflexes after all, Kai was probably ready to melt this guy's face 😅

Oh, so a trial by Sphinx is a challenge? A mental one? A cultural one? A physical one? Idk but Misako is actually taking charge and that is cool I guess 🤷‍♀️

Okay this is kind of weird, how is Ray so afraid? Is it because there's fire?... did he... did he grow afraid of fire for some reason? Because it feels a bit off for now, but if there is a deeper meaning that could be interesting 🤔

Wait is that the riddle from Decoded? That's fire right?

IT IS FIRE 🔥🔥🔥

Lol at least in this one Kai wasn't completely ignored 😂 I know my flame babe isn't the most rational person, but I do like that it was an answer connected to his element where he used his head!

Ah Clutch, you really got no backbone 😅 And apparently you're the only explorer who doesn't, dang look at the others go! I'm having a bit more respect for them now 😚

LOOK AT SENSEI GO FINALLY!!! 😍😍 FIGHTING SCENES HECK YES!!!

Kalmaar: I'm your conquerer

Wu: so after skeletons, the serpentine, nindroids, the Stone Army, Chen's army, ghosts, oni, more snakes but on fire and people from a game, that makes you the tenth. Have a free cookie

Kalmaar:...

Wu: you're not special

Is this a little throwback to Possession too? Nya seems to always control better water when she doesn't actually think about it. When her feelings are free, so are her powers 🌊🌊🌊

Also this opens up more possibilities! Creatures connected with other elements might get summoned too! I would love something like that 😍😍

This was NEAT, or maybe I just missed Kai that much ❤ What's next??

PAPERGIRL

ANTONIAAAAAAAA!!!! MY GIRL IS BACK!!! All my girls are back in this season, I'm so happy 😍😍😍 And if she is here, sweet little Nelson has to be around and I cannot wait! Bring in the purple ninja! 💜

Owww Antonia's last day as a papergirl? Nooo why??

She's got a job at the... DAIRY DRAGON??? OMG OMG OMG IT'S THE ICE CREAM PLACE BRAGI TOLD US ABOUT ON TWITTER!!! 🤩🤩🤩 I remember the post, he was asking about names for the place and ice cream flavors. Now I can't wait to see what did he choose 🍦🍦🍦

UNAGAMI BABY HI HONEY!!! 🙋‍♀️ I hope he's doing great 😘😘

This is so cool honestly, Antonia got her own character arc going on! Living in a chaotic city like Ninjago City must be pretty dang exhausting 😅

Was... was that Dareth in the garbage can? Am I wrong? Poor brown ninja 😅🤎😅

SPINJITZU SWIRL, BANANAKHAN, ORANGE SERPENTINE, I'M DYING 😂😂😂

Their friendship is so wholesome, I'm so happy they are still together no matter what happens 💕

I thought Kalmaar wasn't much of a fighter but DANG he's got skills! Also the fact that he uses tentacles makes the fight very cool to watch! 😚😚

RAY RUNNING IN AFTER KAI GOT HURT HECK YES ❤❤❤

Well at least you tried Ray 😅

Ah, little cameo of the original Weekend Whip, always nice to hear it again... AND DO THE WEEKEND WHIP!!! 🌪🌪🌪

EVEN NELSON GOT CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT I'M SO PROUD 💜

I don't even know what is cooler, the kids being mad lads on their bikes, Kalmaar driving a TRUCK or Kai going full parkour on the buildings to follow them 🤯

I'm sorry... am I the only one that during the Kai and Kalmaar talk kinda thought of Jestro and Clay? I miss my boys from NK, they're even more at odds now 😭😭

KAI YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO DIE OR EVEN TRY TO DIE GET BACK HERE AT ONCE 😱😱

Kalmaar just loves to make everyone feel inferior, gotta be his hobby 😶

Oh good Kai is back

OH NOT GOOD KAI IS NOT BREATHING?!? FLAME BABE I TOLD YOU YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO DIE 😱😱😱

Antonia, Nelson, you guys are now my heroes. You saved my fave, I'll be forever in dept with you ❤❤❤ Am I being overdramatic? Most likely, but Kai is one of the few that didn't almost die or did die in a dramatic situation and he is also my absolute favorite character so that... kinda keeps my sanity in check in this show 🥴

I wonder... does he still not know how to swim? He saved Lloyd in Possession but I wonder if he was only trying to float on the surface... THAT'S TERRIFYING

This episode was so adorable, I love Antonia and Nelson so much 💜💕💜💕 It's nice to see what the other people of Ninjago do while everything goes mad 🤣

Wait hang on my Ninjajan is a little rusty

"Ninjago City. City that never sleeps" well if that ain't the truth 😂

MASTER OF THE SEA

Like Master of the Mountain? Wait are we going back to Shintaro?? VANYA?? ANOTHER BEST GIRL RETURNS??? 💛

Hey hey hey, we got a full Nyad backstory! I really like when they do these little drawn shots, they feel more like legends! And... the ending sounds terrifying? Like, they wouldn't let Nya sacrifice herself and die... again... right? 😱

Bentho: and the world was in balance, until now because of my brother

Lloyd: and the Overlord before of course

Bentho: the what now?

Lloyd: the evil one my grandpa the first Spinjitzu Master fought?

Bentho: YOUR WHAT NOW

Why do I like this offscreen "hiiiyaaa" that sensei Wu does before actually going into the scene? 😂😂

No matter if they come from the underground or the sea, these are all snake-like creature with the same intellect 😅 Kalmaar and Garmadon would have a lot to talk about, sea king dealing with his minions does remind me of Lord Garmadon in season 2 a lot 😂😂

KAI AND RAY FIGHTING TOGETHER KAI AND RAY FIGHTING TOGETHER ❤🔥❤🔥❤🔥❤🔥❤

OMG Kalmaar is such a brat and petty villain I love him so much 😂😂😂 Yes I didn't even mention his amazing voice!... AH DANG IT 😳😳

*Misako kicks Kalmaar and is actually useful* 🙆‍♀️🙆‍♀️🙆‍♀️

*Misako gets taken as hostage immediately after* 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

KAI LITERALLY JUST GOT SAVED FROM DROWNING WHY MUST YOU DO THIS TO HIM!!!... and Ray and Cole and Wu of course, I care okay 😅

OMG that face 🤣🤣🤣

That some meme material right there

Whoa Vincent that voice just got super up when the Unsinkable showed up, it kinda sounded like Jay's lol

NO NOT BENTHO!!! 😢😢😢

Kai: Nya talks to whales now? (I snorted so hard at this 😂😂)

HECK YES NYA GOT THE AMULET!! 😍😍😍 ... we got, like, four more episodes to go so something needs to happen in between... do I need to be scared? I feel like I need to be scared 😅

Jay starting a fire then blaming Kai?... this is so in character I got chills 😂😂

SHARK BOY IS STAYING TO THE MONASTERY THIS IS SO PRECIOUS!!! 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩 I want all the shenanigans and we need to write fanfictions about more shenanigans and AAAAHHHHH 🦈🦈🦈

Bless these two fire idiots

They own my heart ❤🔥❤🔥 Also Vincent, this is supposed to be a fun little gag moment, your amazing voice acting is kinda distracting me 😭😭😭

ANOTHER LEGO HUG

YOU GUYS ARE SPOILING ME OVER HERE HECK YES 💙🌊💙🌊

Maya learned that her daughter is capable of everything, I love that. Nya simply understood that she doesn't have to give up when something gets difficult. She is AMAZING and can do anything she puts her mind into. She simply has to hold on until the end 💪💪💪

Omg Benthomaar playing billiard with the guys I already love this 😍😍

YES IT IS SHINTARO!!! THE UPPLY ARE HERE OMG!!! HI VANYA YOU LOOK AMAZING GIRL MISS YOU I HOPE YOU'RE DOING OKAY!!! 💛💛💛 ... I just really like Master of the Mountain okay 😅

I love how Vanya doesn't even question it. It comes from Cole and he said it needs to be protected? Done and done 👌

Wait what, did something fall?

IS THAT THE FAKE?!?!? WHAT HOW WHEN??? UNCLE POWERS??? OR KALMAAR DID SOMETHING??? SOMEONE??? I'M LEGIT CONFUSED AND EXCITED??? 🤯🤯🤯

Well dang, I didn't see that coming, now what Seabound? What do you have for me?

[morbidly-malicious-muffins]

What Kind of Music Slashers Would Vibe to Headcanons♪

This little thing popped into my head. Fyi, the canon timelines are thrown out the window for this so... Yeah.

Bring forth the bop~

RZ Michael Myers

"Let my weapons be your children, let my armies be your damned. Try to suffer on in silence, try to stop me if you can." --- This Cold Black by Slipknot

I think he'd really enjoy metal in general. I can totally see him unknowingly stomping to some Marilyn Manson and Meshuggah, though the lyrics and message probably will just fly over his head.

He listens to some heavy shit, but probably all the more mainstream bands/artists.

The loudness and organized chaos of the genre fills the void in his soul and reflects the state of his mind, despite his stoic and non-verbal outer demeanor.

Someone please do everyone a favor and introduce Michael to some death metal. Admit it, it really fits his aesthetic.

This is just based on speculation, but I suspect a 70% possibility of RZ Michael resonating with Cannibal Corpse. Fight me.

He hates classical music with a burning passion. Back in Smith's Grove, they played Bach's Air Sul G on tap. (its canon in the first movie lmao) He hates it. Mikey no likey.

Freddy Krueger

"No stop signs, speed limit, nobody's gonna slow me down. Like a wheel, gonna spin it, nobody's gonna mess me around." --- Highway to Hell, by AC/DC

Freddy listens to classic rock, period.

This guy is ngl a supporter of music taste discrimination. You listen to pop? Disgusting. You listen to Jazz? Disgusting. Classic rock is the epitome of all music.

He'll call you music-related slurs you never knew existed.

As stubborn adamant as Freddy is, he does harbor some guilty pleasures, including 70's hair metal and glam rock. Pshh. What a heckin hypocrite.

Some of his all time favorites are Guns N' Roses, Led Zeppelin, Van Halen, and AC/DC.

(Basic bitch)

*Hip thrust movements to go with his 'The Sprinkler' dance moves, Welcome to the Jungle by Guns N' Roses blasting in the background*

OG Michael Myers

He doesn't listen to music, but if he did, he would probably enjoy Jazz.

Michael only listens to Miles Davis because he enjoys his music and can't be bothered to discover more artists.

Oml Michael I know Miles Davis is amazing but don't neglect other iconic artists plzzz. Someone please make him listen to some Teddy Wilson and/or Dave Brubeck.

I imagine him sitting stiff-straight on a rocking chair (he just likes how it moves), knife in his lap, rocking and zoning-out relaxing to 'Blue in Green'. (I love that piece)

#AfterHeFinallyKillsLaurie

#RetirementGoals

He also hates classical music because of the same reason as RZ Myers. Seriously, if either of them so much as hears the opening chord of Air Sul G, expect the speaker to be stomped to a pulp in a split second.

Bubba Sawyer

Alright let's all be honest with ourselves... 70's pop and country is Bubba's shit.

Look me in the face and tell me he wouldn't adore ABBA, The Jackson 5, and Dolly Parton. Thats right you can't

Everytime 'Dancing Queen' starts playing on the radio, Bubba will drop everything and start busting down.

Ain't nothing and nobody stoppin him. Drayton is powerless against the supreme sovereignty that is ABBA.

But let's also appreciate the fact that our Bubster can motherfuckin get down. *wipes sweat from forehead + heart eyes*

He would also do passionate lip sync with his heart and soul, to Dolly Parton's 'I Will Always Love You'.

50% chance of him starting to cry right after he finishes his earnest performance.

*Holding Bubba in your arms, rubbing comforting circles on his back as he bawls hysterically, incoherently babbling on about how much he loves you*

I also feel for some reason he'd really like Joan Jett & The Blackhearts.

Thomas Hewitt

"For one moment, I wish you'd hold your stage, with no feelings at all. Open minded, I'm sure I used to be so free." --- Citizen Erased by Muse

Y'know what I have a hard time imagining the type of music Tommy listens to. Kutos, Mr. Hewitt, you have defeated me.

siKE

(This is where I yeet the timeline out of the window y'all)

Thomas enjoys Muse, Evanescence, and Radiohead. (Fight me)

He just loves how emotional their songs are. He'd have one earbud in as he works away at his projects for hours. The music helps him concentrate, it is also a source of emotional support to him.

Hearing the heart-wretching lyrical content of 'Lost in Paradise' performed so beautifully by Amy Lee's angellic voice is really comforting to him. It's like hearing about another person's experiences. It makes him feel less alone in dealing with his emotional and mental turmoils and burdens.

The first time Thomas heard 'Creep' by Radiohead, he almost cried.

He also listens to My Chemical Romance sometimes. He only knows the Black Parade album, but he loves it. If 'Creep' didn't make him cry, listening to that entire album from top to bottom sure did. He started sobbing half-way through 'Famous Last Words'.

Tommy is emotional boi 🥺

Brahms Heelshire

C l a s s i c a l

No matter how stinky Brahms is, you can't tell me that he's not classy.

Schubert is his bitch. Schubert's style tends to be quite majestic and/or dreamy, (generally) and can change color/sound very abruptly yet appropriately. (This is just my opinion based on experience with Schubert's pieces, but then I only know his piano pieces soo) (let's still cue that maestoso to scherzando transition)

But of course, Schubert isn't the only thing he listens to. He prefers the romantic period, so Mendelssohn, Rachmaninoff, Chopin, Shostakovich, Brahms, Schumann, you get the gist, all the staples. Oh yeah Elgar too. To be a proud English lad.

*Brahms swaying in the living room with the grace of a baby giraffe, engrossed in the beautiful melodies in Schumann's Kinderszenen.*

(Oml please check out 'Von fremden Landern und Manschen' and 'Kind im Einschlummern') (For those who play piano, they aren't that difficult too totally recommend) (Ok sorry I'm done now)

Brahms would totally waltz around alone to Chopin's waltzes and nocturnes.

Oh yeah apart from that classy shit, he likes to jam to meme songs.

"Hey now, you're an all star, get your game on, go play---"

*cut to Brahms passionately fortnite dancing*

Listens to The Strange Man Who Sings About Dead Animals for a good laugh. (Please, all of his songs are gold)

Vincent Sinclair

He'll have 'emo' and 'classical' with a side of metal, thanks.

I headcanon that Vinny McWaxy is an INFJ, so the boy is likely prone to crippling existentialism. It would make sense for some aspects of his music taste to reflect that.

*cut to Vincent sitting rock-still on his workbench/stool, hands hover in mid-air, staring straight ahead, some John Cage piece playing*

You'll never hear this from Vincent but he enjoys sexy-time music. He has this whole erotic playlist he listens to while working. (Boy likes to feel sexy on the job, I respect that.)

I think its pretty much canon that Vinny loves MCR. (Hello fellow emo piece of shit 👋) His favorites are everything by them really. A hardcore fan. He used to have MCR, P!ATD, and 30 Seconds to Mars posters plastered everywhere in his workshop until he had to remove them all to add to the intimidation factor of his waxy hell for passer-bys. For the record, he is very gay for Frank Iero.

On the metal part of his spectrum is mostly classic metal, groove metal, and thrash/heavy metal.

Rammstein, Pantera, Vildhjarta, new and old Metallica, Dream Theatre, Coheed and Cambria. His bitches.

He also uses music to scare victims when bringing them down to his workshop. *cue horror movie soundtracks*

*KI KI KI MA MA MA*

Is a whore for the dramatics when in a good mood.

*Lacrimosa by Mozart plays as he makes a point to bring the wax painfully slowly down toward a drowsy and petrified victim*

A lament for your upcoming death, pitiful human.

Bo Sinclair

"The day has come for all us sinners, if you're not a servant you'll be struck to the ground." -- Beast and The Harlot by Avenged Sevenfold

Bastard boy is into dad-music™. (same)

Dad rock, classic rock, pop punk, punk rock, old school pop, his shit.

He listens to a lot of the same bands as Freddy, but Bo (generally) doesn't discriminate and explores a more diverse variety of music.

Its a fandom canon that Bo loves Avenged Sevenfold. I totally agree.

A7x is the perfect amount of cynical, political, and shred for Beauregard, (I hc that ge hates his full name so plz don't ever call him Beauregard)

He listens to the radio whenever he's at work. Whatever that might be.

Will NEVER admit it, but he thinks Vinny's music taste is dope as hell.

He'll turn off the radio just to strain his ears to listen to Vincent's music downstairs. No one will ever know that though. You don't.

Actually likes classical music too. Its not one of his main genres but there's one piece he really likes, Second Movement of Shostakovich Piano Concerto No. 2 in F Major.

He never thought he'd enjoy this type of music. Its so.... Calm. He discovered that piece from Vinny's playlist. When he first heard it on his brother's speaker, he fell in love. It was one of the extremely rare cases in which he'd be committed enough to ask Vinny the name of the music.

Tiny shuffle for man-kind, huge fuckin step for Bo. Good job Bo, we're proud of you.

Also pleeeeeaaase message me or request stuff, I'm bored and have little inspiration 🦊

I might do a pt2 of this, since I didn't write many of the boys and gals🤷‍♀️

Also sorry if I've neglected some genres/artists (Like i've neglected non-piano classical pieces.... Bc ya girl is just a pianist), a person can't know everything😗

---Zali 🖤

[whole-lotta-hoes]

Whole Lotta Hoes| Crack Fanfic Mini Series

Episode One: Zeppelin Is No More

Episode Two: Looking For A Job

Episode Three:

Episode Four:

Episode Five:

Warning:

This will cause you to lose a couple of brain cells and question your sanity. It will include a shit ton of weird shit and things that don't make sense at all. Do not read if you are not ready for any of this, read at your own risk.

Cast:

John Paul Jones (Main character)

Robert Plant

Jimmy Page

John Bonham

-------------------

Led Zeppelin is a band apparently. It's just a bunch of horny mother fuckers put together to make songs about sex. John Paul Jones was laying in bed with Robert Plant which he has no idea how that happened. He hoped nothing weird went down between them cause Jimmy Page would be so mad. oh jesus oh god you do not want to make that mother fucker mad. He'll literally turn you into a cheeseball and eat you. John got out of bed only to see that John Bonham was standing in the corner eating swedish fish gummies. He was not going to question it.

"Want some?" Bonzo asked him and he held one in his hand.

"I don't know you what the fuck!?" Jonesy yelled. He went to the baffroom and spotted jimmy trying to swim inside of the toilet. He believed he could do it if he tried hard enough.

"the oil supply demand is sky rocketing these days!" jimmy yelled as he got out of the toilet.

"Bitch do not touch me with your boo boo water," He warned him as he grabbed a toothbrush to use as a weapon. He learned how to make a knife with it in jail.

"Penis guitar playing is totes fun jonesy, you should try it," jimmie added. Oh mother fucker he is a heterosexual lad. Or that is what he said the other day when he ate some of robert's caramel popcorn. man he wondered how he even ended up in that stupid band. who's led and why does he have a zeppelin? you know some guy named their kid zeppelin but he claims that he didn't name him after the band. wait what were we talking about?

The band all decided to head to mcdonalds to eat happy meals. jimmy tickles.

"Guys! oh my god you will not believe it but britney is such a slut! ugh! can't believe she left me for a fish lookin' mother fucker-"

"No one gives a rats ass about your weird horny ass!" jimmy cut him off by yelling at robert. God damn that shithead has a huge ego but a small dick. Jonesy never understood why people liked him so much. He once stole his favorite pair of jojo siwa socks and claimed he never knew he owned any.

"You motherfuckers we're supposed to be going on tour!" Bonzo yelled as he swooped the food off the table.

"suck my asshole bonzo!" jim yelled.

"calm down pagey, he's just a meanie," robert added as he patted his head.

"y'all need to start realizing that no one likes you both!" jonesy snapped.

"shut up you're literally ugly and small and the bassist of led zeppelin and you look like heman with that stupid haircut of yours" Bonzo said as he ate jonesys burgers. damn that hurt.

"You know," jonesy began, "i don't need this job"

"what job?" robeet askes.

"shhhhh let the weirdo speak," jimmy said as he stuck his finger into his mouth.

"without me you will all suck asshole and no one will actually like led zeppelin," he explained.

the three slowly looked at each other and began to laugh their asses off at him.

"You act like you matter so much," robert added.

"shut up cheese cream! you're literally big and ugly and you look like you are 50 years old!" bonzo said as he drank his milk. that was funny. Jonesy felt his blood boil and grabbed his happy meal and stormed out.

-

It was the day of their shit concert. led zeppelin were backstage preparing to cause a dismother and set things on fire. preferably roberts underwear that pretty much doesn't exist in this case. the band stepped on stage and the crowd went wild.

"hello bananas-" That motherfucker fell forward into the drum set. oopsies. jimmy ran to him to make sure his hoe isn't dead or alive. fucking bon jovi.

"oh shit! robert plant is down!" he yelled. jonesy was absolutely done with them. they are nothing but a bunch of dumb fucks who ruin everything. He took out his laser penis and shot jimmy and robert to death.

"oh Motherfucker has a fucking laser pp! hija de su pinche madre!" jimmy yelled as he split in half. robert died again. bonzo just sat there blown away by the fact that that john paul jones just killed the front man and the guitarist of Led Zeppelin in front of millions of people. he was impressed.

"holy shit man you really-"

nope sorry but jonesy shot him too so he died. damn he could've let him live. meanie. oh wait im writing this so i could've.... ah man im too lazy to go back and fix it. too bad we're going with this plot now. Jonesy stepped off the stage and headed to the back.

"god dammit i hate everyone in this bloody world," he said to himself. he decided to hit the pub that was nearby to enjoy himself.

As he was sitting at the counter drinking something that is an alcoholic beverage. he began to spark ideas of what he could possibly do since led zeppelin died. He thought about starting a whole new band but he remembered that what caused him to kill led zeppelin. that was out of the shopping list for walmart. next was to steal money from the bank so he remains rich but he then realized that he is a famous musician and will get recognized quickly. fuck. he then thought of changing his hair to look less like heman cause that insult hurt.

"aha!" he shouted. He finally thought of something that could get him a shit ton of money. He drank the remaining drink from his cup and ran out of the pub.

-

he put on a thicc line of eyeliner, red lipstick, a black wig, fish nets leggings, high heeled boots, and earrings. oh man this is going to be hella great. His wife walked in to see what the fuck this small ass mothertrucker was up to this time. oh man i shat my pants.

"sweetie what the fuck are you doing!?" she yelled. Jonesy turned to look at her.

"led zeppelin is no more," he responded. She was so confused and wondered how the fuck she even ended up marrying heman. she had no idea what led zeppelin is no more meant and was hella concerned for his health.

"be back in a few days," he added as he broke his ankle trying to exit the house and rolled down the hill. oops it's not up the hill anymore. guess you could really say he went down hill. i hate myself so much. he walked down the sidewalk and ended up in someone's house. Motherfucker it's jimmy page's house. he stole his nice trousers or whatever those were. my teacher walked by as i wrote that btw. turns out they don't fit him cause jimmy is also a big hoe and jonesy isn't. shit. jimmy is embarrassing asf. that was pointless of him stealing so he stole his underwear. wait he wears those? imma look it up hold on. i didn't find anything about that so im just going to assume that he doesnt.

there was a picture of jimmy when he was with the yardbirbs and golly that is one ugly Motherfucker! he stole and stuffed it into his underwear. he got out of the house full of useless shit that he did not need at all. Then he forgot what he was doing. Jonesy continued walking down the street only to break his other ankle and rolled down the steep pathway. damn he's one dumb hoe bitch.

-

His laser penis was out of control. he just wanted to have a little me time but instead shot a whole through the wall of the motel be was staying in. god dammit. he removed his pp and switched it out with a normal pp. that's odd. his plan of overthrowing led zeppelin stressed him out. what else do you do when you're stressed? well can't say cause i ain't gotta peener. he got so bored. his days of not being in led zeppelin have been lame and was the worst idea he could even come up with. he didn't know what to do know. he can't just eat your grandma over and over again. he looked at himself through the mirror and oh my god I'm a sexy Motherfucker oh yeah bitch im THE BITCH. he needed to find something that'll keep him entertained for while.

babysitting was a bad idea. he got bitten by a bunch of goblins and gave him rabies. god i hate kids.

"hello motherfucker," jimmy said.

"OH SWEET MOTHER OF GOD DAD SHOES PENIS PLANT! I THOUGHT I KILLED YOU THE OTHER DAY!" Jonesy yelled as he jumped over the couch.

"Nah bitch that was just my twin brother Jamie Patricia Page," He added. "Bitch why are you dressed like a stripper?"

Oh yeah he forgot that was what he was going to do once he killed led zeppelin. he still can but now there's a little bitch with him named james patrick page.

"we should kill robert plant," jimny suggested.

"Bitch i already killed him, you're a little too late you duck whore," he responded.

turns out he didn't actually kill led zeppelin but instead killed their twin brothers.

"You want to overthrow led zeppelin into the trashcan?" Jonesy asked. "Thought that's what you and bert wanted to do...."

"Nah man.... percy is a very stupid penguin and is meanie.... he stole my jojo siwa socks," jimmy explained.

ah damn turns out robert plant is the villain of the story and should be died. he is too powerful. his hair will slice the fuck out of anyone.

"You got a plan?" Jonesy asked.

"i say we steal his pants and burn them and use them as an alternative to oil," he explained. damn science class. then this guy named bonzo showed up and began to beat them with his drum sticks.

"BONZO CALM THE FUCK DOWN! AHHHHHHHHH!!!" james yelled.

"sorry but robert said to beat you both with them!" bonzo yelled back.

jonesy dug through his pants and took out a bunch of swedish fish gummies.

"hey look! fish gummies! come and get it boy!"

"bitch what the fuck I am not some stupid dog for you to be doing that time of shit you small Motherfucker heman lookin hoe short shit," bonzo said.

"GIMME GIMME OH SHIT!" he attacked Jonesy.

jimmy page the god of led zeppelin stood there watching while cheering them on fight fight fight! it got in here so he removed his trousers and threw them at bonzo which ended up knocking him out.

"oh shit! your pants are powerful! we can use it to kill percy!" Jonesy shouted.

"NO! JIMBERT MUST GO CANON!" Jimmy yelled and jumped out the window. all you heard was splash. that motherfucker jumped into the pool and is now wet. that's a disturbing image. Jonesy rolled his eyes and went back to doing whatever the fuck he was doing. it all of a sudden got really bright outside. oh the sun came out cause it was cloudy. but wait! Jonesy looked out the window and spotted robert plant heading towards him.

"IM THE GOLDEN GOD-" that motherfucker fell inside of the pool and sizzled. cual pinche golden god ese no mas anda haciendo puros desmadres y estupideces de mario.

that was the end of led zeppelin.