#this one kinda scans like shit im not looking forward to editing it i just wanted to isolate this testament. theyre cute. hair

[lesbiangiratina]

Hello 1999 doujinshi missing link testament slut image

[shhh-no-ones-home]

hit list ryan sitkowski x reader

+++++++++ Disclaimer: Cory isn't part of their actual crew lol, technically an OC

its mostly edited but if i missed anything sorry lol

Song: getting away with murder by papa roach

tag list: @musicsexandpizza69 @svintsandghosts @alilpunkrock @theoneandonlykymberlee @cynic-spirit @lifeisabitchandsoareyou @thisplace-ishaunted +++++++++

"Anybody know where the packing list went?"

I asked, ducking out of the storage trailer. A few of the crew guys looked around at each other for a second before shaking their heads no. I sighed in defeat before going back in and looking through the boxes again. Then I heard someone clear their throat and immediately knew.

"Looking for this?"

Cory said a little cocky. I rolled my eyes and stood up, looking at him annoyed.

"Yeah actually, if I could have it back that'd be great."

He smirked at me.

"I'll think about it."

I glared at him.

"I need it to set up the merch booth asshole, give it back."

I demanded, making him laugh.

"No, I don't think I will."

I watched in frustration as he tucked it under his arm and walked out of the trailer.

"Cory give it back!"

I yelled, following him further into the lot.

"Nope."

He said, keeping his pace up. I practically jogged to keep up with him.

"Why are you so mean to me?"

I asked, getting in front of him and him coming to a halt before he could run into me. He leaned forward to look me eye to eye.

"Because I don't like you. You distract the guys and you're annoying. You are constantly loosing shit like this and I don't think you should be working with motionless anymore."

He said firmly before side stepping me and getting on the bus. I stood there for a second trying not to let his words get to me. I opened and closed my fist a few times before turning and swinging the bus door open, standing in front of me was Ryan looking a little bewildered.

"Hi."

He said with wide eyes.

"Hey, uh did you see Cory?"

He looked back up into the bus for a second before looking back to me and nodding. I crossed my arms over my chest.

"He stole the packing list for the merch and he won't give it back."

I watched him draw his brows together before stepped back up the stairs. I was confused for a second so I decided to follow him.

"Hey Cory, can I see the merch list man? I was told something was missing."

Cory looked like a deer in headlights before nodding and handing it over.

"Thanks man."

Ryan scanned it over, my eyes never once leaving Cory who looked like he couldn't wait for the list back.

"I'll get this to it's rightful owner so we can get that merch back."

Ryan nodded once before turning around. He sent me a look as he walked past me and I stood there a little flabbergasted as he left the bus. Cory tried to hide the snicker escaping his body but it didn't work very well. I open and closed my mouth for a second before taking charge off the bus to find Ryan back. To my surprise he was already half way across the lot, on his way to the trailer where the rest of the crew guys were.

"Ryan wait!"

I called, speed walking to get to him. He didn't answer though, he just kept walking. When I finally made it to him he was standing in the circle of crew guys.

"Ryan I really need that back."

I said a little out of breath, looking around at the other guys.

"And that is why I'm gonna give it back, but also why these guys are gonna try to keep Cory away from you."

I drew my brows a little as he looked to them again.

"Oh, uh, okay."

I said, him nodding to me and walking into the trailer. I stepped in behind him, making sure he didn't set the list somewhere I wouldn't be able to get back to it.

"Why do you deal with him?"

Ryan asked, tucking the list into a box and crossing his arms over his chest. I felt a little lost at the question, shrugging at him.

"I don't know, cause he's part of the crew?"

Ryan scoffed at me.

"Well what do you want me to say? I have to work twice as hard because of him but it's not like there is much I can do. He has been trying to get rid of me since tour started."

Ryan drew his brows.

"He's trying to get rid of you?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Evidently I'm distracting and don't do my job right."

Ryan laughed and I looked at him confused.

"And he's an expert? Also you are not distracting. If anything, having you around is a blessing, cause you kind of give us a break from work."

I looked down and nodded, that was reassuring I guess.

"Thanks."

He placed his hand gently on my shoulder, making me look back up at him.

"If it makes you feel any better, we've been talking with everyone and you aren't the only one having problems with Cory."

My eyes got wide.

"It's kinda looking like he won't be coming back too."

Ryan said and I tried hard to hide the smile creeping its way to my face.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

I said degenerately. Ryan laughed a little at me before pulling me into a hug.

"Aren't we all."

He said amused. i hugged him back for the second we were in each others arms.

"hey, how about after tour we go to dinner to celebrate. id love to take you out sometime."

my jaw practically hit the floor.

"like a friend thing?"

i said a little dibelieving and he laughed.

"i mean i was thinking more of like a date but if youd rather-"

i held my hand hout.

"no!"

i said a little loudly, retreating into myself.

"no, what i mean is yes id love to go on a date with you. are you sure?"

i asked and he laughed again, nodded.

"y/n, i wouldnt have asked if i wasnt sure."

i could feel the heat rising to my face.

"then its a date."

i said in confirmation. he shook his head in amusement, side stepping me.

"im gonna go get ready for the set, ill see you after. try not to get too riled up by cory again before i get back."

i saluted him as he walked out of the trailer.

"will do."

[turtle-steverogers]

Not Guilty- 2

murder mystery’s back! im having too much fun with this story guys

Link to chap 1 in case you need it

warnings: albert being a human disaster, abuse of the word ‘milk’

ship: ralbert, platonic spalbert

word count: 1680

editing: lmaoooo no

Chap 2

When Albert gets to the precinct the next morning, he’s wary to find a wrapped parcel on his desk that looks suspiciously like a sandwich.  He pokes at it, frowning when he sees a singular smiley face drawn on the underside in black sharpie.

 “Hey, uh, Spot?” He calls, looking up when he hears his partner’s chair roll out from his desk and subsequently poke his head around the low wooden wall that separates their cubicles.

“Yes, honeycakes?” Spot’s expression is the face of innocence and Albert’s stomach churns.

“Did you-” He stumbles, gesturing to the presumed sandwich, “Is this for me?”

“It’s on your desk, isn’t it?” Spot smiles, rolling back into his cubicle.

Albert sighs, taking off his messenger bag and jacket and sitting heavily in his desk chair.  He cautiously unwraps the white paper to find a loaded meatball sub sitting in the middle of a napkin.  There’s a sticky note placed delicately on the fluffy white bread and Albert plucks it up, squinting at the words:

Sorry you didn’t finish your sandwich xoxo Spottie

He laughs probably too loud and sticks the sticky note on his desktop, right next to the note from Jack that reads: ‘I’m sorry for stealing your pants, I had brains on mine’ after Jack had taken his extra pair of slacks from his locker when his got spoiled at a crime scene.

He takes a bite of the sandwich, pleased to find that he can still stomach his favorite Gianno’s special after yesterday’s events.  As he chews, careful not to get any tomato sauce on his shirt, he plucks a sticky note from his own pad and scrawls out: Thanks, Pop Spotcket.  Love u, dear xoxo and tosses it over to Spot.

A moment later, Spot snorts indignantly, “‘Pop Spotcket’? Really? Does anyone actually use those anymore?  The only person I know who has one is my niece and she’s eleven.”

Albert rolls his chair so he’s in Spot’s cubicle, sandwich still in hand, “I have one, asshole.  They’re useful.  Anyway, thanks for the sandwich.  How’s it looking at Gianno’s?”

Spot sighs wearily, placing a stack of papers down and turning from his computer to look at Albert, “Eh.  They’re closed today.  I stopped by this morning to pick up some evidence left at the crime scene and one of the waiters asked if I wanted anything and I remembered that you didn’t get to finish your lunch yesterday so…”

“Thanks, man,” Albert says, mouth full.  Spot wrinkles his nose and tells him not to speak with food in his mouth.  Albert rolls his eyes, “Anyway, evidence?  What’s new?”

“Nothing really,” Spot says, “Just Wiesel’s receipt from his last meal.  Wasn’t really much on it, but it gave us a sure timestamp that lines up with our original record, so at least that’s set.”

“Good,” Albert shoves the last bit of sandwich into his mouth, licking his fingers.

“Yeah.  Saw our boy there, though.”

Albert raises his eyebrows, “Higgins?”

“Mhm.”

“How’s he?”

Spot shrugs, “Didn’t talk to him.  Kid looked like shit.  Well, more shitty than yesterday if that’s somehow possible.  Kept sending cute little glares my way, fucking ray of sunshine, that one.”

“Christ,” Albert grimaces, “I’m convinced he’s a player in this debacle somehow.  I mean, he seemed genuinely surprised when he found out the vic was Wiesel, but too many strings lead to connections on his end.”

“Yeah,” Spot agrees, “I dunno, I say we dig a little into Wiesel’s other relations as well.  I feel like there’s a gap here somewhere.”

“Toxicology came back,” Albert says after a pause.

Spot looks at him, eyebrows raised, “And?”

“Sarin poison in the blood.  Stab wounds were post-mortem.  Someone wanted this shit to look messier than it is.”

“Interesting.  I wonder who’d go through the trouble of poisoning, then following up with a physical attack.  ‘Specially in a public place.  S’kinda risky.”

“That’s what I was thinking, but whoever it was, clearly knew what they were doing.”

“Clearly…”

XXX

Albert never understood why there was such a wide variety of milks in the world.  And why, in this moment, he can’t find any simple fucking 2%.  

He scans over the selection again, bypassing the almond and oat milks and skimming over the fritzy lactose free shit.  There’s strawberry milk and chocolate milk on display and even horrifyingly enough, mint milk, but no fucking 2%.  It’s not even like this fucking bodega is big enough to warrant having so many milks. 

He just wants some damn normal person milk!

“Excuse me, detective.” 

Albert doesn’t startle.  He doesn’t.  He’s a trained law enforcement officer and detective.  People like him don’t fucking startle.  But, he is on high, professional alert when he turns around to see Antonio Fucking Higgins standing behind him, eyebrows raised in what’s probably amusement and hands shoved in his pockets.

Albert makes a strangled noise, eyes working on their own accord as they trail down Higgins’ body.  He’s sweaty, looking like he just came from some sort of workout, and a pair of tight adidas running pants hug his legs in all the right places.  He’s in a tank top today, somehow doing his arms more justice than the grey shirt he’d been wearing yesterday.  A hat sits backwards on his head, doing little to tame the curls that are trying to sneak out of the stupid hole where the strap meets the fabric.  He looks hot and it’s unfair and Albert’s never been ashamed of his sexuality, but right now he’s wishing that he could reign in his gay ass a little bit because aside from the fact that Higgins is a bit of a prick, he’s also a suspect and that’s, like, number one in the Book of Nope for cops of any kind.

Higgins is still looking at him, but now there’s a small crease of concern between his eyebrows, “You alright, man?” He asks, “You look kinda like you’re having a heart attack.  Do you have any chest pain?  Your left arm feel numb at all?”

Albert shakes himself, morphing his expression into something he hopes looks less like Gay Panic, “Yeah, sorry, I-” He splutters a bit, then shuts his mouth with a click.  

Higgins scoffs, “I just need milk, man, you mind?”

Albert starts, hastily stepping out from where he was definitely blocking the milk selection and watching as Race grabs a carton of-- fucking 2%.  How did he find it so fast?  How did Albert not see it?  He’s supposed to be the one trained to look for details others don’t see!

Trying not to flush, Albert reaches out and grabs a carton as well and Higgins looks at him again, laughing, “You were standing here for a long time, dude, I thought you were gonna murder the milk for a second.”

“Couldn’t find the 2%.” Albert mumbles, blushing harder when Higgins laughs louder.

“Real good reconnaissance there, detective.”

When Higgins is laughing, his face changes into something a whole lot more pleasant.  Not that it was ever unpleasant (the dude’s got a jawline of a god), but some of the hardness in his eyes and shadows on his face go away and for just a second, he looks like the 25 year old he’s supposed to be.  It’s nice, Albert thinks, ignoring the way alarm bells are going off in his head.

“Shut up, Higgins, I’m tired.  Some of us have to read about murders all day, so excuse me if my milk finding skills aren’t the most refined.”

Higgins’ face softens and the smile in his eyes turns into something else that Albert doesn’t want to dissect, “Race.”

“What?”

“Higgins is my dad, not me.  And I don’t like the name Antonio very much, so if we’re gonna be talking more, be it over murder or milk, call me Race.”

“Race?”

Higgins--Race--winks, “That’s a story for level five amici.”

“Oh, okay.”

They pause for a moment and even though Albert’s not drunk, his inhibitions seem to flutter away from him against his will as he blurts out, “Drinks sometime? Would- uh- would you wanna get drinks sometime?”

And fuck-fuck- SHIT- what are you doing Dasilva? What the fuck?

Race considers him for a moment, “Not that I wouldn’t hit that,” he nods to Albert’s body and Albert flushes.  Damnit with the flushing!  He’s 26, not some flouncy high schooler, “But I don’t think that’s a good idea, detective.”

Albert nods, “No, yeah, honestly I don’t know why I asked- uh-”

“Relax, don’t have an aneurysm, it’s okay.  I just don’t think it’s a good idea right now.”

“No no, you’re right.  Absolutely.”

There’s another pause, then Race smiles apologetically, “I gotta go get the rest of my groceries.  Take care.”

Albert cringes internally at how fucking painfully awkward this exchange has been, “You too,” he says, watching Race retreat to the wine aisle.  He takes another moment to gather himself, then goes to the checkout line.

XXX

Albert turns up the volume on his TV, pleased with the quiet solitude of his apartment for the night.  He doesn’t love living alone, but it’s been a long couple days and he’s been looking forward to a night to himself since he’d woken up that morning.  Just him, some thai, and the Animal Planet playing reruns of ‘It’s Me or the Dog’ all night.  Fucking self care.

He’s just yelling at some dog owner on the TV for feeding his pug 24 eggs a day and watching as Victoria Stilwell chews out the greasy fucker when his phone rings on the coffee table in front of him. 

Groaning, Albert mutes the show and chugs down a few sips of beer, before picking up the phone and answering with an annoyed, “Someone better be dying.”

There’s silence on the other end and Albert pulls the phone away from his ear to check the caller ID.  It’s Spot.  Shit, someone might actually be dying.”

“Spot?  Everything okay?”

Spot sounds sheepish when he says, “Well no one’s dying, technically…”

“But…”

“There was another murder.”

“Shit.”

-

Race went straight home after the bodega, right? RIGHT!??!? stay tuned ;)

thanks saph for ‘pop spotcket’

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

TAG LIST: @getchapapes @we-dont-sell-papes @suddenly-im-respecsable 

@aw-jus-let-em-try @well-the-kids-do-too @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @felix-loves-albert-and-ralbert @technically-whizzy

@andthewoildwillknow @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog @localfakeitalian @have-we-got-news-for-you @musical-shitposts @thebroadwayaesthetic

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@stopthe-presses

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[xxxdragonfucker69xxx]

im tired but im hopped up on lunar hype lets read some CHARMS

nest-raiding slyness is maybe my favorite hearts blood charm ever, its so fucking funny. specifically fuck with someone so bad they hate you, and you can take their shape

emerald grasshopper and tyrant mouse, superb. i like that miniscule size is as strong as legendary size (i think, based mostly on scanning this and the fact that it has so many bullet points) (wait nvm its mostly maluses and the evasion is charm bonus. nvm)

oh man the protean on finding the needles eye is extremely fun

weapon-snatching coils is so EXTREMELY fun and i love the protean especially the way it’s worded. gently pluck their daiklave with a tentacle and fling it like that bit from always sunny where he throws the spaghetti

oh solars theink theyre omnitactical battle hydras? do they have many-armed warrior panoply?

really enjoy bombardier spittle alchemy, just really fun. love to secrete

the moment anyone says ichneumon im on board

ooh... flurries

oh shit wasp sting blur, obviously a totally different charm now, and a very fun one

deadly wolf-pack onslaught plus twin fangs strike is just an all out assault from persona. interesting call about decisive that resets initiative, else stuff like wasp sting blur would be eligible

its a shame hunters eye precision isnt stackable or you could hip fire on someone a mile away

birds fall from flock targeting is SO funny who am i gonna shoot. you dont know. fuck you

oh man the protean on octopus and spider barrage is extremely fun

unerring fang technique is sexy, idr if dbs have an equivalent charm but im pretty sure solars dont

in general im really really enjoying the attribute based nature of the lunar charms, i do enjoy the way solar thrown or db melee make specific statements but to have all these broader charms is very nice, though obv dex offense is gonna be different from str offense

agitation of the swarm technique is just a slap in the face

oh my god toothless pride tactic. suck a whole army’s spears right out of their hands. the difficulty is size minimum 3 so you might as well use it on a size 3 group anyways

i wish i had deadly raptors flight in any fps my aim is always so fucking shit when im standing still, let alone running

WOOF thousand claw affliction

kate bush voice running through that herd. jokes aside though this is so vivid and so good. if youre an octopus you can just turn your tentacles into a blender of doom and then calmly disengage

god supreme predator alacrity and lightning stroke attack. these charms have such a strong feel

dam heart-piercing instinct plus hunters eye precision could kill

ah, i misspoke earlier, twisting moonsilver stroke is the real slap in the face. knock someones shield away and then cut their head off

god can you imagine chaining thousand claw affliction into octopus and spider barrage. hope you had either an onslaught negator or like 10 defense. also topping off thousand claw affliction with a decisive feels extremely videogame combo, in a good way

oh my god greatest huntress mastery

im still horny so lets do defense! i think agile beast defense is straight better than whatever solar melee charm i always dip, or dodge or whatever. fun conditions for the defense

hm, and bending before the storm is worse than a straight negator but has a fun condition, same with golden tiger stance

man i need a charmtree to visualize all this, i saw parabola was working on one so like godspeed

god a flurry against e2 coiled serpent strikes is so harsh

YES ever-evolving defense, that beast boy proteus uhhhh whoever does it in the isles thing

nimble squirrel evasion is just that thing where a cartoon mouse runs around on the desktop causing an enraged character to smash everything around. 

oh my god this note on foe-baiting sidestep

ah sensing the deadly flow, there it is. fun to call out being grappled as well

vigilant mastiff technique! classic lunar stuff

really fun that snarling watchdog retribution lets you use your wards initiative, if they use uhh lightning-calling challenge and get someone to keep attacking them it doesnt matter that your initiative resets cause you can keep using theirs

flowing body evasion, i gotta say its interesting how perfects work in different ways this edition and i kinda like this one but i dont know how good itll be

heron sheds rain is just a decisive attack but a defense. decisive defense

oh man shadow chased silver defense feels very lunar. to blend evasion and parry and charms for both

becoming waters envy is soch a good charm name

ok im gonna stop there before this becomes untenably long but im looking forward to mobility and recreating that thread from the forums about how fast you can go

[turtle-steverogers]

Secret Santa Gift Fic for Whizzy

( @newsiessecretsanta ‘s secret santa set up)

SURPRISE WHIZZY i was ur secret santa!!! ily @spec-s-pecs

warnings: implied alcoholism/drug use

ship: sibling smalls/jack/spot w momma medda!

editing: actually yeah, kinda

Spot groaned as he struggled to tie his tie for the third time, “I don’t get why I gotta dress up,” he complained, eyeing Jack, his foster brother, in the mirror, “We’re jus’ stayin’ in the house.”

“Miss Medda likes us lookin’ nice,” Jack defended, not looking up from his phone.  He was already dressed up, a well-fitting green button down tucked into a pair of sleek khaki slacks.  

“Yeah, well it’s stupid,” Spot grumbled, tossing his tie down in frustration.  It was his first Christmas in his new foster home and he wasn’t looking forward to it.  Christmas had never been anything special in the past.  Even before he was in foster care, his family rarely did anything.  His father was almost always far too drunk to know the date and his mom was rarely home, most likely out somewhere getting fucked by some needle.  When he finally escaped that home, his new ones were always crowded by kids and any Christmas spirit was thwarted by uncaring adults who just want the money benefits of fostering kids.

Not celebrating Christmas was normal for Spot- comfortable at this point.  It was routine and he wanted it to stay that way.

“If you really don’t wanna dress up,” Jack sighed, finally meeting Spot’s gaze, “I think Medda’ll understand.”

Spot grunted, not saying another word as he began to unbutton his dress shirt, grabbing his sweatpants from his bed before stepping into his and Jack’s shared bedroom to change.  He re-emerged a few minutes later, feeling much better in his comfy clothes.  If Medda really cared about him, as she claimed to, then she would want him to be happy, right?

“Spot, Jack,” Their nine year old foster sister, Smalls, poked her head through the door, “Medda wants us down now for dinner and presents.”

Spot scoffed, “Presents?  Ain’t that for Christmas Day?”

Smalls entered the room fully, fixing him with a confused look, “Christmas Eve is where we get family presents, like, from Medda.  Tomorrow mornin’ is when we get Santa’s presents!”

Spot rolled his eyes, bunching his dress clothes and chucking them into his hamper, “Santa ain’t-”

He was cut off by a sweatshirt hitting his face, “Ow, Jack, what the fuck,” He pulled the sweatshirt away to see Jack, shooting him a warning look.

“First off, language,” He hissed, “Second,” He glanced at Smalls who was looking between them innocently, “Second, summa us still got Christmas Spirit, you don’t gotta ruin it on accounta you bein’ the Grinch or sum.”

Spot shifted his jaw, “Whatever,” He muttered, pushing past Smalls and padding down the hallway.  He entered the dining room to find the table filled with a plethora of different dishes, ranging from a small ham to a giant pan of mac and cheese.

Medda, who had been setting forks out for the four of them looked up when he entered, “Hi, Sean,” She smiled, “Feelin’ okay?”

“M’fine,” He mumbled, looking past Medda into the living room, where a load of presents were visible under the tree.

“You sure?” Medda asked, her eyebrows creasing in concern, “Ya can let me know if somethin’s goin’ on in that head of yours, I don’t mind listening.”

Spot glanced down at his baggy clothes, then at the beautifully set table, feeling guilt wash over him.  Medda had worked so hard to set up a nice evening for them and he couldn’t even adhere to her one request.  He suddenly felt entirely overwhelmed.  It was too much- the dinner, the presents, the tree, the caring home on Christmas.  He kept his eyes trained on the floor as a lump rose in his throat and as a sob forced its way out of him, he took a defensive step backwards, crossing his arms at his chest.

“Oh, honey,” he heard Medda sigh, guiding him to one of the chairs, “What’s on your mind?”

“I don’t know,” Spot hiccuped, shame preventing him from looking at Medda, “It’s jus’ a lot.”

“What’s a lot?”

“This,” Spot said, gesturing to the table, “I ain’t had nothin’ like this before.  No big meal, no presents, no nothin’.  It hurts.  I dunno why.”

Medda nodded slowly, eyes scanning over the dinner table, “I’m sorry, hon,” she said softly, “I didn’t mean to overwhelm you,” she paused to consider, “Why don’t we all get in our PJs and then we can take our dinners to the living room and watch Christmas movies instead.  Presents can wait until tomorrow morning, tonight we can just relax. How does that sound?”

Spot shook his head, “No, I don’t wanna ruin-”

“Sean, sweetheart, you wouldn’t be ruinin’ anything.  Your comfort is my priority.”

“But Jack and Smalls-”

“Jack and Smalls will understand better than anyone,” Medda said, firmly, yet sweetly, “Now why don’t you go freshen up and I’ll let the others know the new plan, yeah?”

Spot nodded, wiping his eyes shakily on the back of his hand, “Okay,” he stood on wobbly legs, crossing to the bathroom down the hall and flicking on the lights.  He braced himself on the sink, gathering himself for a moment before splashing some water on his face.  When he got to the living room, he found Jack already huddled on the couch, Smalls stretched comfortably across his lap.  The two of them had already been living with Medda for two years when Spot arrived, so they were fairly close with each other.  They were both in pajamas, and when Spot entered, they looked over at him.  Spot winced, expecting to see disappointed looks on their faces, but relaxed when he found nothing but concern.  Although, that wasn’t much better.  He didn’t like pity.

Jack seemed to notice his discomfort and visibly wiped the worry off his face, “Yo, you good?” he asked, nonchalantly.

Spot shrugged, perching himself on the armchair adjacent to the couch, “Yeah.”

“You can come sit on the couch, ya know,” Smalls piped up.

Spot hesitated, confliction pooling in his stomach.

“If you’d rather sit alone, that’s cool,” Jack stated, “But you’re welcome to come sit over by us.”

Spot blinked a few times, steeling himself, then carefully tucked himself on the couch, huddling into the corner near the armrest.  Jack smiled softly, but didn’t say anything. “Here you are,” Medda said, setting a tray with three plates on the coffee table in front of them, “I got you guys a little bit of everything to try, but you don’t gotta finish your plates if you’re not feeling up to it.”

“Thanks, Miss Medda,” Smalls and Jack chimed.

“Thank you,” Spot said, leaning over to grab his plate.

“Have you guys thought about what movie to watch yet?” Medda asked, settling on the other end of the couch near Smalls.

“Rudolph!”

“No, Jackie, Miracle on 34th Street!”

“Uh,” Spot cleared his throat, “I’ve never seen A Christmas Story before, so…”

“Holy shit-”

“Language, Jack.”

“Sorry, Medda, just,” Jack ogled at Spot, dumbfounded, “You’ve never seen A Christmas Story?  We’re watchin’ it.”

“Alright,” Medda chuckled, pulling it up on Amazon Prime, “You’re in for a treat, Spot.”

Spot sank into the cushions as the opening credits played, working his way through his plate of food as he watched.  As the movie played, plates were abandoned back onto the coffee table and Smalls dozed off.  Jack was quoting the movie alongside the characters and as Spot allowed himself to relax, laughing alongside Medda and Jack at some of the more iconic lines, he couldn’t help the warmth that spread through his stomach like a wildfire.  

If this is what Christmas could be, maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

-

ily whizzy i hope this was good

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

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