#Mr Jolly Lives Next Door

[slimylayne]

Watchin mr jolly’s making me wanna get rlly pissed

[aquilapolariz]

the ocean's mercy (portgas d. ace x reader)

Summary: Ace encounters an ocean of memories and thoughts that seem to drown him. Someone needs to pull him out of the sea and help him navigate it.

Notes/Warnings: Minor spoilers for Ace's background and minor spoilers for Wano (all of them are literally just name drops), angst with comfort! Requested by anon

Word Count: 2.2k | Read below the cut or on Ao3 here!

The Moby Dick was filled with cheers and liquor as the crew watched Ace single-handedly take down a pirate crew. Pride swelled within you, joining in the shouts and claps of your pirate brothers and sisters. 

Ace landed back on the ship with a dramatic thud, hopping onto the railing, and then jumping onto the deck.

Ace was reliable but reckless, fiery and confident. His tattooed back was facing you, Whitebeard’s Jolly Roger on display to Ace’s friends, enemies, and everyone in between. But really, when it came to Ace, there really was no in-between. He loved like there was no tomorrow and saved pure hatred only for those he believed deserved it: those who hurt the people he cared about.

His shoulders, strong and sure, slouching only when he squatted on the edge of the ship, were laid back in satisfaction. His chest was puffed out with no signs of exhaustion on his face. He shined bright like the sun, his radiant smile reinvigorating the crew, which prompted them to grow louder and drink even more rum. It seemed like nothing could ever shake Ace or his unwavering resolve. The air around him was full of certitude, as if only the strongest of earthquakes and tsunamis could weaken his unfaltering spirit.

And disasters that were big enough to shake up Ace were few and far between.

A disaster of that magnitude ended up being Marco offering Ace the position of Second Division Commander. You raised your eyebrows at Ace’s hesitation. For a full week, he didn’t give Whitebeard or Marco a proper answer.

The great Fire Fist Ace is never uncertain, or so you thought.

+++

Ace made everything look effortless. From making his crewmates laugh to punching enemy pirates or falling asleep in any situation, Ace made living life look easy. But he was only human. And just like every human, Ace contained multitudes that were hidden beneath his facade. 

“Looks like we’re spending more time together, huh?” 

“Guess so,” you said inattentively. “Though you are a big shot now, Mr. Second Division Commander. Who says you’ll have the time to spend on me?”

“As my own boss, I say so. I gotta get to know the Second Division better than anyone else.”

“Well, cheers to that,” you responded, your glass clinking against his as the party celebrating Ace’s promotion commenced. 

You didn’t tell Ace — or anyone else for that matter — that you saw him pacing outside of Pop’s door for an hour the night before.

+++

Even from the ship, you could see that his feet were in the sand, but his mind was somewhere far away.

“Hey, Ace,” you uttered, quietly approaching him. 

“Hey,” he replied, his eyes regaining their vibrant glow as he turned to you with a captivating smile. “Not enjoying the feast?”

“Hard to enjoy it without you,” you shot back.

“Codependency at its worst,” Ace laughed.

You sat down next to him, the sunkissed sand filling in the spaces between your toes and enveloping your feet like a warm embrace. “Why aren’t you on the ship with everyone?” you lightly chided, “it’s a commander’s duty to spend time with their crew, no?”

“Wasn’t really feeling it today, I guess.”

“Was it something Teech said? I swear that guy doesn’t know how to shut up.”

“If I was bothered by Teech I would’ve left this ship long ago,” he chuckled as he looked away from you. Ace’s hearty laughter was like a wave that regularly washed away your worries. But this time, it didn’t.

You took in the view he was facing: a shoreline that never seemed to end. Before you joined him on the beach, Ace had been staring at the sand for what felt like years. Within the minuscule grains, Ace could see the faces of a young Sabo and the legendary Gold Roger. He blinked and those faces morphed into the purple-haired Otama and the crying face of Yamato. 

These sands of doubt and time did nothing to ease the tension in Ace’s body. 

“Despite how close you are to everyone, it still feels like you keep people at arm’s length. You said you needed to get to know your division more, but how about letting the division know you?”

“There’s nothing to know.” Ace feigned offense at your skeptical expression, “What can I say? I’m a simple guy.”

“A simple guy who Whitebeard allowed to take a division commander spot?” you questioned.

“Exactly! What you see is what you get.”

You snorted. “What I see is a devil-fruit user, who has a misspelled tattoo of his name and doesn’t know how to wear a shirt.”

He let out a dramatic sigh. “Contrary to popular belief, I know how to spell my name.”

“That’s odd. I’m not getting that from what I’m seeing.”

“Then what do you get from what you see of me?”

“I see my second division commander. Reliable. Cares about his friends and his family to a fault.” You paused, but Ace kept nodding, urging you to go on. “You’re just eating all these compliments up, huh?”

“Whattttttttt? Nooooo!”

“I see a stubborn idiot”— you mentally celebrated a small victory when Ace’s lips instantly turned to a pout — “who’s too kind.” He squinted at you. His expressive face never seemed to get old. “Too kind to the point where you never want to be vulnerable.”

The tension in his face all but vanished, and he suddenly turned away.

Despite always seeming larger than life, this was the smallest you’ve ever seen Ace. With every wave, the sea crept closer and closer to where the two of you were sitting until the salty water washed over the tips of your toes. Ace recoiled and scrunched his face at the sudden weakness he felt, even if it was only for a moment. Ace seemed like he would be pulled in by the rising tide and sink down into the sea if you left him alone—not because of his weakness as a devil fruit user, but because of his oft-hidden weakness as a human. Even Ace was not immune to the endless pools of self-doubt. 

So you put your hand on his shoulder, scooting closer to Ace to close the gap between the two of you, trying to ground him and prevent him from falling into the siren’s song of sadness. He thought about your words. Too kind to the point where you never want to be vulnerable. You keep people at arm’s length. Arm’s length is still pretty close, he always told himself. He turned to you and your face was mere inches away from his, brought closer by the hand that clung to his shoulder now. You were much closer than arm’s length. But for some reason, this time, it didn’t feel close enough. 

“I know no one ever asks you this but, what’s wrong, Ace?”

He stared at his wet feet. “The sea takes my strength, y’know?” Of course you knew that. And of course he knew that that wasn’t what you were referring to. 

“It’s always a surprise when the tide comes in, isn’t it?” He asked cryptically. 

You frowned. Ace never spoke in riddles. 

“Is it, though? We’re pirates, we know how the ocean works,” you reminded him.

“We know the tide will always rise and fall, but in the New World it’s a little more difficult to know exactly when.”

You hummed realizing that Ace was right. “It's constant, true, but it’s also constant change.” You stared at the ebb and flow of the water, falling into its visual rhythm.

“And as pirates, we’re always at the ocean’s mercy,” he added. It always surprised Ace when memories of the past washed over him, seemingly at the most unexpected and unwanted times. 

You shook your head with a smile. “With the help of the wind, a trusty ship, and an able crew, we can defy even the roughest of waves.” This time, the seafoam seemed to form the faces of Luffy, of Whitebeard, of Marco, of you. “Without the ocean, how would we sail to all these islands and live the life we do? The ocean isn’t our enemy.”

Ace mentally cursed at himself for getting caught up in his thoughts and, dare he say it, regrets. Memories of the past, just like the tide, aren’t always out to get him, it seemed. The waves fell back into the ocean, suddenly much less threatening.

Ace let out a sigh of relief. He mentally thanked you for pulling him away from an ocean of spiraling thoughts. He should’ve known that you would leave the feast to look for him once as soon as you noticed he was gone. As much as he tried, there was no escaping you. Was there any point in still trying to? “It’s nice to have such a reliable crew,” Ace said coolly.

“It’s nice to have such a reliable commander,” you replied without missing a beat.

Maybe he would let himself be selfish, be vulnerable. Maybe he would share the weight of his past with you, little by little. He reached across his chest to place his hand over yours, your touch lingering on his shoulder. He was a fool for thinking he could keep you at arm’s length for forever. He drew in a deep breath, his brows furrowed, as if debating whether to speak. You squeezed his shoulder, reassuring him of your presence.

“Sabo,” he blurted out. “I had a brother named Sabo.” You raised your eyebrows, trying to process his sudden words. “The extra “S” in my tattoo is for him.”

“Had?” You asked. His dark eyes bore holes into yours. Full of life and depth, you couldn’t look away. You felt like you were at the ocean’s mercy. The bottomless urge to know and explore every part of it was pulling you in, more than ever before.

“He died when we were young. That’s why it’s crossed out.” 

You gasped, recoiling away from him, pulling your hand away, his eyes narrowing almost immediately. “I’m so sorry for always teasing you about it. I shouldn’t-”

He tousled your hair and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. Just like how the tide is bound to  the shore, there was always an unseen pull between the two of you. With Ace’s words lingering in the salty air, that pull became more discernible. “No need to apologize. It always made me smile. I know for a fact that Sabo would’ve joined in on your jokes. He’d probably ask me why I bothered putting an ‘S’ in my name instead of getting an entirely separate tattoo,” he laughed.

You let out a sigh of relief. There it was. Your ears were filled with his rich laughter that washed away your worries— your worries about him and about accidentally hurting him. “Hmm…that would be a good question. You’re really not making a good case for yourself, Ace. You sure you didn’t come up with this excuse after you messed up your tattoo?” you playfully quipped.

“No! You don’t believe me?!”

You shook your head with a smile. “I believe in you. Always have, always will.” Ace watched you as you began to stand up, trying your best to dust off the sand on your legs.

“How can you say that?” Ace asked curiously, hugging his knees to his chest. He was thankful that you were no longer facing him,  that you wouldn’t see him with his shoulders slouched, looking so small. Your eyes were fixed on the horizon across the vast surface of the ocean. 

“Say what, exactly?”

“That you’ll always believe in me?”

You walked closer to the water, willingly letting the waves wash over your feet. “There’s nothing that you can do that will make me not believe in you,” you stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He stared at your back. He took in the way you so easily walked into the ocean that he thought was so dangerous before. “What if”, he paused, taking a deep breath, “what if it’s not what I do, but who I am?”

There it was again, you noticed, Ace speaking in riddles. “You’re you. That’s more than enough.”

“You’re saying all I gotta do is exist? And that’s…enough?”

You spoke to the merciless ocean: “You exist and I see you. All of you.” You turned around. Ace looked up at you, the sounds of the waves lapping seemed to be an echo of your words, as if the whole universe was trying to get through to him. You reached your hand out to his. Taking it, you pulled him up to his feet and dragged him closer to the water. Both of your ankles were completely submerged, but neither of you minded. Feeling some energy flee from his body, Ace felt weak, but was that such a bad thing? He squeezed your hand, the warmth of it standing in stark contrast to the shocking cold water around his feet. No, he concluded. Being vulnerable wasn’t so bad, especially when it was with you. Because you really did see all of him: the weak parts, the strong ones, and everywhere in between. “To see you is to always believe in you,” you whispered.

You brought your gaze back to the horizon and Ace followed suit. With your hand in his and the waves now lapping against his knees, he couldn’t help but feel gratitude. The merciful ocean had brought you to him, washing up on the shores when he needed you the most.

[sitkowski]

xo ( matt dierkes x oc)

pairing: matt dierkes x zephyr (oc) cw: no real warnings. a little bit of angst, a healthy dose of fluff, neighbors to lovers, making out, meddlesome…dogs? word count: 1.5k author's notes: this is my first matt centric fic (not the last there will be more of these two!!), and i had to fit him into the riptide verse. @darksigns-exe inspired the shirt that zephyr's wearing on their dinner (not) date 🫶🏻 title comes from the song by fall out boy (of course!). dividers by @sweetmelodygraphics 🩷

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups || riptide verse masterpost

Apparently before the band made their decision to take their break, Zeus learned a new trick while Matt was on tour. He learned how to unlock the back gate, which is why he’s gone when Matt opens the sliding glass door to call him back into the house. It would have been nice if the neighbor kid who’d been looking after the dogs had thought to tell him about Zeus’ new trick when he came home. Boo is just sitting there by the open gate, as if to prove that he knows he isn’t supposed to be on the other side of it.

He brings Boo inside, relatches the gate and grabs Zeus’ leash and a couple of treats in case he needs to be coerced back to the house. He doesn’t think he could have gotten far, he wasn’t outside that long. Matt walks out his front door, looking left and right to see if he spots him right away. It’s not until he steps off the porch that he realizes Zeus didn’t go far at all. He’s sitting in the front lawn across the road, and he’s not alone. The girl sitting with him isn’t someone he’s seen there before, but he assumes she lives there. His dog is all but in her lap, soaking up the attention she’s giving him.

Walking across the street, Matt calls out to him, and Zeus pops his head up, wagging his tail at the sight of him. The girl waves at him and stands up, keeping a hand on Zeus’ collar so Matt can clip on his leash.

“I’m sorry, he came running right over as I was coming out of my place,” she explains. “We kind of have a ritual, he and I.”

“He staged a prison break, he’s not usually supposed to be off leash out front without me. Did Clay let him loose a lot?”

“Oh no, not at all! I’d just say hi to him on his walks, maybe sneak in a treat or two,” She holds out her hand. “I’m Zephyr.”

“Matt,” he shakes her hand, and then looks down at Zeus. “This little criminal is Zeus, in case you didn’t know that already.”

Zephyr smiles brightly, reaching down to pat the top of his head, “Yeah, I read his tags.”

Matt feels himself blushing a little, and he nods, “Well, thanks for making sure he stayed put. I’m gonna have to secure the back gate better so he won’t get out again.”

“If he does, I’ll be sure to bring him back to you.” 

He thanks her again, and takes Zeus home. The gate is an easy fix, and both the dogs stay put. But now he sees Zephyr every morning, and every night when he walks the dogs. He feels like it would be rude to ignore her, so they stop and chat with each other. Boo and Zeus both seem familiar with her, and that itself is a green flag for him. He thinks it’s cute that she does have a bag of treats on her to sneak the dogs, apparently she does it for every dog in the neighborhood.

Eventually, it progresses to Zephyr coming on the walks with them, her holding onto Zeus’ leash and Matt with Boo’s. He tells her about touring, she tells him about her catering business. Somehow, these walks turn into her promising to make him dinner. Matt can’t believe that it’s happened as fast as it has, but time seems to slow down when they’re off tour and he has to get used to moving at a normal pace again. So, he agrees to dinner after Nicholas, Jolly and Noah all bully him into it via text messages when he tells them about Zephyr.

He tells himself it’s not a date, it’s just dinner between neighbors. Even though he doesn’t think that Mr. Birkhoff from next door has ever invited him over for anything ever. It’s been a few weeks of evening walks and long conversations, a few shared beers on his back porch while the dogs run around in the yard. And yeah, he’s thought about it being more, even when his mind is normally consumed with work and touring. This is the longest break they’ve had in a while, and he knows that everyone else is using it to their advantage. He should be too.

Matt almost talks himself out of it twice before he’s standing on Zephyr’s front porch one Friday evening. He rings the doorbell and waits, second guessing himself until the door opens and he sees her. She’s wearing a shirt that says #yeetisildur in elvish and he really hopes she can’t see the sudden hearts in his eyes right now. Smiling that bright smile of hers, Zephyr steps aside to let him in.

“Whatever you’re making smells great,” he compliments as she leads him into her kitchen.

“We’re having homemade mac and cheese, sriracha maple brussel sprouts and grilled chicken breasts.”

Matt leans against the counter, accepting the beer she offers him from the refrigerator. “Are you interested in locking me in your basement and making me your personal guinea pig?”

It sounds ridiculous when he says it but she still laughs, clinking her bottle against his. “Just so you know, there’s a homemade dessert for after.”

“No seriously, the band can figure out the sound without me.”

“It’s called sex in a pan.”

Obviously she was waiting to seize her moment, because she says it the second he takes a drink, and predictably, he chokes. Beer nearly shoots out of his nose, and Zephyr just giggles and pats him on the back before she passes him a paper towel.

“I couldn’t help it, I’m very sorry,” she says, “I promise to behave the rest of the night.”

Matt doubts it.

Dinner’s great, and Zephyr blushes every time he tells her how good it is. The conversation over dinner gets a little heavier than their usual night time walk chats; for a brief moment Matt thinks she’s eventually going to ask about how the band is handling the break. He didn’t miss seeing the familiar vinyls stacked by her record player, even though she’s got a whole bunch of random stuff there. But it wouldn’t be the first time. She doesn’t mention them once though. Instead, they’re talking about her dad who taught her how to cook before he passed away, and Matt’s got a feeling she doesn't talk about him often. 

After they eat and he has two pieces of the dessert that she made, Matt helps Zephyr with the dishes despite her protests. And when the night is over, she walks with him out onto her front porch, kisses his cheek softly to say goodnight, a barely there brush of her lips that he feels more than he should. She’s still standing there when Matt lets himself into his place, waiting for him to get inside.

Matt hasn’t done this in a long time. He doesn’t really know how to go about it with someone like Zephyr, who has no expectations of him. The longer he knows her, the closer they get. The more open she is with him. It’s a new feeling, becoming friends with someone and the crush just hitting him smack in the middle of his chest while they’re watching Chopped reruns at his place, a dog on either side of them.

They’re playfully arguing about which dish was going to make it through to the next round when Matt turns his head and leans in to kiss her. She doesn’t seem as if she’s expecting it, and he likes catching her by surprise. He starts to pull back but she reaches out and curls her hand around the back of his head, pulling him in and kissing him again. She sinks her fingers into his hair, deepening the kiss. They break apart once, to catch their breath, before she’s pulling him back in. Matt puts a hand on her thigh, trying to pull her closer. 

But then there’s a big problem, because Zeus realizes that someone else is getting attention, and leaps over Matt to worm his way between him and Zephyr. She lets out a surprised laugh, wrapping her arms around him and putting her chin on top of his head.

“Sorry, I think you have competition for my affections,” she says as Zeus’ tail keeps thumping against Matt’s chest. If he didn’t know any better, his damn dog was smiling at him. “Looks like you’ve gotta step up your game, Dierkes.”

Matt looks from her to Zeus, to Boo who seems content to just watch the steak being sliced on the screen. “Okay, who wants a treat? And to go play in the back yard where I can close the door for five minutes?”

Both dogs are up and running for the kitchen at the word treat and Zephyr grins, fisting her hand in Matt’s shirt to tug him closer for another kiss before they notice he’s not getting up yet.

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[dreamingcloudie]

❛❛ A Snowy Miracle ❜❜

✎ ❛❛ Thank you for being with me, Dear. ❜❜

Pairing(s): Dottore x GN!reader

Genre/Format: Fluff (One shot)

Warning(s): None! Maybe an OOC Dottore but that’s about it. The rest is just some tooth-rotting fluff :) Wrote this at 5am so uh, have fun 💀

wc: ~1.3k

Notes: I know. I know. It's a bit too early for a Christmas fic, but C'MON IT'S DECEMEBER AND THIS IDEA CAME OUT OF NO WHERE I JUST HAD TO WRITE IT-- And yes it's soft Dottore again. Boo me all you want I just love this man being a softie 🥺 Anyways, any feedback is greatly appreciated ♡

Gentle snow danced through the air as it hit the ground. Living in a nation with ice covering every inch of the land was no fun. But the atmosphere it brought when a certain holiday was right around the corner made it felt as if it came out of a fairytale.

The usually vacant streets of Snezhnaya would be stuffed full of people as they bought gifts for their loved ones. The usually dull city would be lightened up with different shades of colorful string lights. Even the usually eerie silence of the Zapolyarny Palace would be broken by the jolly laughs shared among the Fatui staff.

If only you got to enjoy the festive spirit with your lover as well…

It has been a while since the both of you have spent any time together. The only time you got to see him was when you stayed up and waited for him. Even then, he would only give you a quick kiss and fell fast asleep as he was too tired to do anything with you.

As one of the top Fatui harbingers, he had a lot of work that needed to be done. Even when it was a holiday, they could barely catch a break.

Your train of thoughts were cut short by a knock on the door to your shared bedroom. The door was then opened by none other than the man you loved, Dottore.

You were surprised to see him here. You expected him to be either in his lab or office working his ass off.

"Hello, Love," he greeted as he walked closer to you.

"Dottore? What are you doing here?"

"What? Am I not allowed to see you?"

"I'm just surprised to see you here. I thought you'd be busy working."

"Well," he sat down next to you and put his arm around your waist before he continued.

"I would be. But I managed to finish all the work earlier so I can spend the day with you," he linked his hand with yours before bringing it up to where his lips were and kissed your knuckles.

"Really?" You asked, feeling hopeful.

Not needing to say another word. In return, he gave you his signature grin. Letting you know that he was being serious.

You squealed in excitement and pampered him with kisses everywhere on his face while saying a 'thank you' after each one.

He chuckled at your reaction. Letting himself to be basked in your attention before reluctantly stopping you.

"As much as I love to be kissed by you all day long. Don't you have anything you wanted to do? I'll make it up to you by doing anything you want for not spending much time with you lately."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

And that was how you ended up here, trying every silly Christmas themed head band on with Dottore at the store. It was embarrassing for him. One of the most feared harbingers was indulging his lover with their shenanigans.

Well, he did say he would do anything.

You laughed as you put a Christmas hat attached with a white beard on him. Enjoying the way his cheeks would heat up as you gushed at how adorable he looked.

Not long after, you also put another one without the beard on your head.

"We are Santa and Mr(s). Claus now!"

"Yes, yes we are indeed. Can we leave now?"

The two of you left the store with two identical hair clips on. Both of them had a tiny version of the Christmas hat on it. You wanted to get the ones you tried at the store but Dottore said he didn’t want people to see him with those ridiculous accessories on. So you settled for these instead.

After playing around in the store, you started to feel a little hungry. An idea popped in your mind and you dragged him to fetch a few things before returning to the palace.

There the two of you stood in the kitchen with your aprons on. Each of you had your own tasks. Dottore was focused on making the icing, while you were kneading the dough.

“So, what is this gingerbread house that you speak of.”

“It’s like building a house, but with gingerbread. Pretty self-explanatory, Doctor,” you said in a teasing tone. Finding it quite amusing how a man with an endless amount of knowledge asked what a gingerbread house was.

As if he sensed your amusement, he let out a laugh.

“Being a smartass now, aren’t you?”

“I’m just saying— Hey!“ before you could finish what you wanted to say. Dottore put some icing on your nose. You were caught off guard and turned to him. Only to be met with a cocky expression.

“Oh, you’re on,” you said. With a hand still covered in flour, you smudged some onto his face and giggled at how it made him look like a cat.

After spending almost half of the afternoon playfully fighting Dottore with food. You cleaned up the mess and finally got to finish building the gingerbread house.

“Annnd, done!” You put the last piece of the candy and stuck it to the house.

“Now what?” Dottore asked.

“Now—”

You snapped a piece off of the gingerbread house and munched on it.

“—you eat it!”

“…What was the point of building it then?”

“C’mon! It was fun!”

He sighed and also took a piece of the baked goods, muttering something along the lines of ‘you and your weird interests.’

You stared as he ate his fair share of gingerbread, while trying to stifle a laugh.

“What?”

You grabbed a napkin nearby and cleaned his face.

“You got some crumbs on you, you silly man.”

He watched as you cleaned him. At that very moment, he could’ve sworn he just fell in love with you all over again. The things you made him feel. Being with you made him feel normal, and not just the mad scientist that everybody talked about. He smiled to himself, thinking how it was a miracle for him to have met you.

“Yes, Dear. I am your silly man.”

The both of you were just walking hand in hand as the moon slowly made its way to the sky. You noticed Dottore seemed to be lost in his thoughts. A slight frown appeared and disappeared on his face every so often.

“Are you okay, Love?”

“Yes… yes, I’m fine.”

“Are you not enjoying yourself?”

“No, I—“ He let out a sigh of frustration.

"—sorry, I’m just… you know me. I'm not good with words," he grumbled.

He stayed still and thought for a bit. You just stood there and waited for him to continue. After what felt like minutes, he seemed to have made his mind up as he took both of your hands into his.

"I've been wanting to say this for a while now. And right now is the time," he took a deep breath.

"All I wanted to say is… today I realized just how much I love you, and how much you love me as well. I know I am not an easy man to love. I'm glad that you stayed even when I'm at my worst and I… I'm just so happy to be with you. To be with someone who genuinely loves me. And the things you make me feel, I wish they could last forever so…”

He reached into his pocket and took out a red velvet box. Your eyes widened at the sight before you and you could hear the heavy thumping of your heartbeat.

Dottore got onto one of his knees and opened the box, inside it held the most beautiful ring you have ever seen. It was a silver ring with intricate patterns carved onto it, and a sapphire sat proudly at the top.

"(Y/n) (L/n), will you marry me and become the Mr(s) Claus to my Santa?"

You didn’t notice the tears that were streaming down your face until you choked on your sob and could only nod your head eagerly. The smile on his face widened as he put the ring onto your finger.

For someone who was viewed as not having a heart at all by the others, definitely had the biggest one that you knew of.

As if the world has witnessed this very moment. Snow began to fall from the sky once more. It swirled around the both of you, in celebration of the bright future ahead.

[cuppimagines]

A Jolly Odd Christmas- Chapter 001, The Factory

Chapter 1 is now live! Every 5 days I plan to update this fic all the way to Christmas, and so we have the 1st chapter up and running!

As a quick reminder before you continue, this is an nsfw story, there will be some hammy cheesy sex in each chapter, so this is exclusively 18+, with that out of the way, I hope you enjoy!

<- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

“....Hello? Can I come out?” 

…

Nothing. 

You were just wheeled in…somewhere. And you were just barely allowed to peek out of the present as you were wheeled into this…office of sorts. This started out with you thinking that this was some weird prank or even worse some sorta fucked up Christmas themed kidnapping. But this place is way too big, and there are way too many elves just roaming about working for you to really say that this was all fake. 

You just sat in the box for a few minutes, your legs crossed sitting in semi-darkness. You really hope this is sorted out soon.

Just then, you heard a door opening, and the sound of someone walking past you.

“You can come out now, the door’s closed.”

Very slowly, you peeked out the box, and then fully emerged from it, though sadly…it was a little bit too tall for you to just climb out of. You were in some sorta office, but an office made for people significantly shorter than you. It was very nice and neat, the desks and cabinets made of very ornate well decorated spruce wood with a little miniature christmas tree situated next to a rather out of place computer. Mr. Cedar was there as well, holding a rather tall coffee cup, sitting at his desk.

“So…we need to figure out how to sort…all this out,” he said, looking at you. “First off, tell me your name, human.”

“U-uh…my name is y/n…” you answered.

“Alright then…let’s see…” Mr. Cedar turned his computer on and went to work looking for you. He furrowed his brow, and then looked up at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Hm…you’re quite the scandalous one aren’t you?”

“Wh, what do you mean by that…?” you asked.

“Oh with your wishlist, more and more adults have been wanting these sorts of devices…” Your cheeks felt hot when he mentioned that.

“I-I didn’t even write a wish list!” you tried to reach up over the box to look at him. “How do you even know what I want?!”

“It’s pretty much a guessing game, the same way we monitor the nice and naughty list for children, for anybody older we simply monitor not only their behavior but their desires for the year. But…this is odd. Because looking up your name also brought me to someone who wanted you, specifically. As in they wrote a wish list requesting you.”

“Can you tell me who…?” you asked nervously. “I don’t wanna be delivered in the hands of some weirdo or stalker.”

“Alright then…” Cedar went to read the wishlist. “It says here…’I miss y/n so fucking much, I shouldn’t have left them please oh please I just want you back I’m so sorry.’ Hm, sounds drunk here.”

“Oh…oh is that my ex…?” you sighed, watching as Cedar turned the screen around so you could look. Yep. Yep it was your ex. 

“I don’t know how, but somehow the wishlist registered this as a legitimate request, and since we can’t just clone you, something in the machine might’ve gotten you here, that will need checking…”

“But why the hell would he even request me?” you asked. “HE broke up with ME.”

“I don’t know, it’s your relationship,” Cedar sighed. “But, I think it’s best we investigate this error, and see where we can house you until Christmas Eve.” That part shocked you a little bit, and you tried even harder to climb out of the box. 

“Until Christmas Eve???” you asked, finally hoisting yourself up, before the box began to tilt and you started to fall over. Just before you did, Mr. Cedar seemed to have gotten up just in the knick of time and caught you. You looked up at him in surprise. For someone so small, he seemed to have a bit of strength for his size. And his grip seemed strong too.

“Wh-why can’t you send me back now?”

“Well…unless we figure out how you were sent here, there is only one way back to earth, and that is when Mr. Saint Nicholas himself rides out to deliver gifts. That gate takes a lotta energy to open and close, and to just open it for one person to walk through…and then open again for the big day, we might have another blackout like the one back in 1972.”

“Gate…Earth…I’m not even on earth…?” you looked a bit light headed, and Mr. Cedar frantically pulled you out the box once he took notice.

“Good heavens good heavens…!” Cedar cringed. “Yes yes I know! I know this is a lot to take in but trust me this is out of my goddamn hands. If I had a hand in this I’d just kick you back out from where you came. But these are rules, and right now things are extremely hectic, this is the busiest time of the year for me so if you can…” He clasped his hands together, looking at you with a bit of desperation.

“...PLEASE just keep calm? I will get one of the managers on it to help you, and you will be back home as soon as I can possibly make it.” That…did not really comfort you at all. At most you’d be missing for 3 weeks. You knew family and friends would be looking for you. However…you saw the way Mr. Cedar looked. You knew that look. Tired, overworked, stressed out due to a large project where the end couldn’t be any sooner. 

“Uh…your name is Mr. Cedar, yes?” you asked. “Can I ask, are you uh…okay…?”

“Well…well…” Mr Cedar slumped back down in his chair, holding his head in his hands. “500 years of this and I still can’t cope with stress…” 

“What is your job here exactly…?”

“Well…I’m in charge of looking over the entirety of the workshop here. Every single gift is made here, gets sorted, and then gets packaged to be sent off on Christmas. There is a board of managers below me, 7 of them to be exact, but as the oldest I am the head here and take the most responsibility.”

“I might be stepping out of line by saying this…” you sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “But with something of this scale, don’t you feel like you should either get more managers or pawn off more work to more folks?” Cedar looked up, and he looked extremely angry at just you suggesting that sort of thing.

“How…dare you undermine the work I have done?” he stood up out his desk, slowly approaching you. Someone this short you wouldn’t be so intimidated by, but his presence…it was something unique. 

“I have been a VERY important worker under Mr. Nicholas since before the PRINTING PRESS was widely used! I am the ONLY man he can rely on, and if I were not here things would fall to shit! I can’t just give my work to other people who don’t know him the way I do! And for you, an outsider to give your opinion on it…!” he was now mere inches from your face. You could feel him breathing heavily from anger and frustration, and you practically saw a vein about to burst. However, his eyes for a brief second wandered downwards, specifically right down into your pajamas. They were buttoned up, but loose, and the shirt at any angle could allow someone to stare right down your chest. Cedar noticed, and immediately he backed away, specifically turning his back to you and adjusting his glasses. You tilted your head a bit. Something seemed to have changed his tune, but you weren’t exactly sure what.

“Er…since this is an emergency, and has some level of severity, I suppose I can relocate some of my work…” he said, sounding a lot less angry, and almost nervous and flustered. “It’s best that the less people know about your presence the better. After all, The folks here aren’t exactly all sugar plums and spiced ham. If you’re familiar with some…folklore, you know that there are those out there who love the taste of human…”

“Uh…well…I kinda am…aren’t those just fairytales?”

“My dear, you are sitting in the main hub of all that is Christmas cheer and merriment. These people exist. And since Mr. Nicholas has been on guard to protect Earth from incidents involving any sorta child or adult eating…these very same people are hungry for a taste of flesh again.” Mr. Cedar turned his back to you yet again.

“Especially that man…” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that…?” you asked.

“Nothing, nothing. Anyway, I will send a few emails, and so you simply wait here and get comfortable.” Mr. Cedar pointed to a door over to the left of the room.

“I practically live here during the whole of December, commute times eat up important work time after all. That area leads you into my temporary living quarters. You can relax there in the meantime.”

“Hm, convenient,” you said, even if you nearly had to duck to get inside. It seemed simple, almost like a hotel room. There was a bed, a night stand, a closet, and another door to the side, might’ve been a bathroom. But it was all neat and clean.

The second Mr. Cedar closed the door behind you, you went to the bed there and sat, head in your hands, running them roughly through your hair. Oh you were stuck here. Stuck here for three weeks, and the only means to get out is completely out of your hands. Ohhh this was the worst…!

“Stuck here…stuck here for three weeks…” you muttered to yourself. “It…it could be worse I guess…least it’s somewhere…” you gave a very brief peek out the window, and your eyes were wide. Looking out at this window, was the 8th, maybe 9th story of a massive building, looking down at a city filled with lights, snow, and Christmas decorations as far as the eye could see. No, it wasn’t Christmas decorations, it was Christmas architecture. The concrete was red and white striped, elves, deer, and even a polar bear or two were just casually walking the streets. A train was leaving as the train tracks were nearby, and it seemed to be heading to a station not far from here. Most importantly, in the distance however, atop a hill you could see a massive mansion lit up by lights aplenty, and guarded by a massive gate. You could’ve put two and two together. A massive town whose entire purpose was being in charge of Christmas? Santa lived there, most definitely. Your eyes sparkled, you were amazed and in disbelief at the same time. Wherever you were was wonderful, beautiful even. If in better circumstances, you’d take the time to enjoy this more. 

You stood up to take a quick peek at the other door. Oh, it really was a bathroom. You wanted to use it, you were just in sweaty pajamas after all, but figured it would be better to ask permission first, so you poked your head out of the room.

“Uh…Mr. Cedar…sir? Can I use your bathroom…?”

“Yes yes go ahead,” he answered, not even looking at you. Seemed he was too focused on his work at the moment to even care about your question. So you shrugged and went to take a shower. Like everything else, it was a bit of a small fit, definitely not furniture made for anybody five feet or taller, but you managed. Your pajamas were the only change of clothes you had, so you folded them to the side and turned on the shower. Sitting in the bath, you let the warm water hit you, and your body started to relax a little bit. Things could be better, but sadly there was nothing you could do. Your family, your friends, they might be missing you at this point…and maybe your ex might be missing you too, but it didn’t make sense. Maybe he had a change of heart and wanted to reconcile, but you weren’t even sure if you wanted to get back with him. So being his present…not something you’d want.

After your bath, you toweled yourself dry and leave the bathroom to get dressed after realizing you indulged a bit too much in the hot water, and you felt a little bit too steamy.

You went to get redressed, and might’ve realized your mistake when you heard the door open just as you were about to step into your pants. 

“I finished all the work, things should be ready in-” Mr. Cedar paused. You paused. You were for the most part, naked, and nearly forgot that this wasn’t your private hotel room. Mr. Cedar grew bright red and hot, and he tried to look away so you couldn’t see how flustered he was.

“O-oh yeah you uh…you needed the uh…the shower…” he said. You covered your body with your towel, standing up off the bed. 

“I-I’m so sorry, I’ll go back…in the…” Oh…oh you noticed something…Mr. Cedar had already had a significant tent in his pants, and for his size…oh he seemed a bit too well endowed, and it didn’t help that he wore tight, tight pants. 

“Do you uh…do you need to take care of…that…?” you pointed down at his pants, and Mr. Cedar looked down in pure utter shock.

“Good heavens this hasn’t happened before-! I-I mean it does but not like this and uh…and uh well! You have quite the figure, and to be honest I like meeting uh…folks as vertically gifted as yourself- I MEAN-!” You looked at him incredulously, the poor old man seemed to be too flustered to form a proper sentence, but that was a lil cute to you. You sighed and smiled a bit. 

“We all have needs, pretty sure you saw what I wanna get for Christmas anyway,” you waved your hand a couple times. “I know we, er, just met, but if you need help…”

“Yes-!” he interrupted you quickly, but cleared his throat. “I-I mean…if you are so gracious to help me with my problem, it’ll help me get back to work as soon as possible so uh…could you please lay down on the bed for me…?” You did so, leaning back, though the bed at most seemed only slightly bigger than a twin sized bed. You took your towel off your body, dropping it onto the floor as you simply sat there, completely naked in front of Mr Cedar. 

He looked like he was about to light on fire from the way he was looking at you, and with a bit of a skip in his step, he went over to the bed, undoing his pants as quick as his shaky hands could muster. You tried your best not to look so shocked, but seeing Mr. Cedar pull out a near foot long, thick, throbbing cock, that got your eyes wide and a hand over your mouth.

“Jesus fuck…” you muttered to yourself. And he was already completely erect, just from looking at you naked. Poor fella must be pent up. 

“Your legs…your thighs…oh they’re so long…!” Mr. Cedar grabbed your legs, pressing your thighs together in his grip. “I-I promise I won’t be too rough on you, my dear…!” He was shaking, beads of sweat were trickling down his forehead. There seemed to be a dam inside him that was nearly about to burst from the way he was still trying in vain to keep his composure in check. With your thighs in his grip, he propped one knee up on the bed as you could feel his cock slowly push against your thighs. 

“So…so soft…!” you watched as his cock peeked out from the other side of your thighs, and simply stay there as Mr. Cedar focused on the feeling of your soft, warm thighs on his cock. Slowly he began to thrust, moaning softly while he was pleasuring himself against your thighs. You could feel him pick up the pace, and this time with each thrust you felt his cock rub up against you, brushing up against your clit, spreading your folds apart with just his size alone. Your body grew hot, and you couldn’t help but let out a few soft moans alongside Mr. Cedar’s shaky, breathless moaning and whimpering. 

Mr. Cedar looked like he was about to crack. He had a horny, excited grin on his face, and his forehead was soaked with sweat, not to mention the sheer amount of precum dripping onto your stomach. His grip on your thighs were even tighter, like you’d crumble if he ever let go, and you just might crumble from the way you felt. The friction got you excited, and you could feel yourself grow more and more soaked, which got all on Mr. Cedar’s cock, mixed with his own precum. 

“Oh god…ohhh good fucking god your thighs are ethereal!!” Mr. Cedar moaned loudly, leaning forward and pressing you down on the bed with the small amount of weight he could muster. He moaned and cursed under his breath, keeping your thighs together so tight that the friction might make him sore after this, but he didn’t care. He was just immersed in how you felt, how soft you were, your nice, long legs and soft plush thighs…anymore of this and he was going to…

“A-ah!!” he cried out, body shuddering as he came not only on your stomach. Your face and chest were splattered in his seed, and you were surprised just how much there was, let alone that in his excitement he came so soon. Mr. Cedar let go of you, letting your legs fall, but from the look in his eyes and the way his glasses fogged up, he was far from done with you. 

“R-ride me…please…” he begged. He was still hard, and his cock was still resting on your stomach. You were still getting over just how messy Mr. Cedar had made you already, but with a flustered grin, you got up off the bed to let Mr. Cedar lay down. 

“Are you sure you want me to ride you…?” you asked. “I’m a lot taller than you are…”

“I-if the lovely frame of a human was enough to kill me, I would’ve been dead long ago,” he replied, appearing almost smug after saying that. “Now please my dear, sit on my cock, do not hesitate to be truly, completely rough on me! My body can handle you just fine!” In excitement, he reached into his nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, and you looked a bit confused. He didn’t seem the kinda man to have that given how…busy he was. He saw your expression and scoffed.

“It’s always nice to have a little bit…you know just in case…” he grumbled to himself, pouring it onto his shaft and slowly rubbing it. You decided you wanted to help, grabbing his cock and pumping up and down in very slow, very careful motions. Mr. Cedar let go, hands to his sides watching you stroke his cock. He looked both extremely pleasured, and unsure if all of this was just…fake. Like somehow this was all a very vivid dream he was having, and he was waiting for his alarm clock to blare in his ears. But there was no sound, no sudden waking up to the morning light. Just your soft, gentle hand stroking his cock, and your pretty eyes looking at him for approval. 

“You’re…you’re quite the catch, aren’t you…?” he moaned. “Can’t believe your ex is missing out on this.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and leaned over to kiss Mr. Cedar on the cheek. 

“Hey, don’t mention him, ‘kay?” you asked, lifting your hips up, just hovering over the tip of his cock. It was still pretty big…it seemed a lot for you to handle, and yet it was so, so inviting all the same. Slowly, carefully, you lowered yourself down on Mr. Cedar’s cock, shuddering as you felt yourself being stretched out by just how thick he was. 

“A-ah…oh god…” you moaned softly, grabbing onto Mr. Cedar’s shoulders for support. He guides your hips down on his cock, but his grip was tight, and his whole body seemed to be shaking from excitement and pleasure. 

“You’re…you’re amazing…!” Mr. Cedar moaned. “I haven’t felt anything like this in years~!” In the excitement and pleasure of all this, you could feel him slam you down on his cock, all the way to the base, and from the sudden sensation, you let out a gasp, whimpering with your back arched. Oh he was big…! You leaned forward, moaning and grinding yourself against his cock to get used to his size.

“Oh-oh no, did I hurt you?” Mr. Cedar asked, concerned and stroking your back. “I’m so sorry if I- I…!!” Then you began moving your hips a bit faster, raising them up and slamming them back down on his cock. Mr. Cedar didn’t expect that in the slightest, and once he felt your weight on top of him repeatedly slamming back down on the bed and smothering him…it was incredible. He brought his hands back up to your hips, guiding them and helping you move at a quicker pace. And it wasn’t just good for him, you could feel his passion, his neediness and deep, desperate desire for pleasure. It was enough to nearly make you dizzy from pleasure the rougher and rougher Mr. Cedar got with you. 

The bed began to creak, you tried to hold onto the bed frame for support, but you can see it shaking and warping under both your weights together. Mr. Cedar even looked a bit winded having to support your weight with his much smaller hips, but he was so engulfed in pure pleasure that in this moment, nothing else mattered except making you both feel good. 

“D-don’t be afraid of being too rough…!” Mr. Cedar moaned, grabbing your hips tighter just to force you to ride him faster. “I can take it! I can take all of it…! And I can take your beautiful, beautiful body…!!!” Try as you might, now you were raising yourself off his cock just to repeatedly and roughly slam back down onto him, and Mr. Cedar nearly bounced off the bed completely from your weight on top of him. Your knees felt a little weak, in fact your entire lower half felt like you were gonna go numb after this, but it felt so good, and you were so, so close. Both of you were reaching your climax, cause all of a sudden, Mr. Cedar grabbed you and held you down firm, thrusting his hips up into you with rough, desperate vigor.

“Gods…gods…oh sweet heavens you’re amazing!!” he cried out, grabbing so tight onto your hips and ass that you could feel those bruises forming. Your eyes practically rolled into the back of your head, your body felt hot and the feeling of Mr. Cedar so so deep inside you made you tip over the edge. You clenched around him, moaning out loud as you soaked his cock in your cum, and in turn, you could feel his cock twitching and pulsing inside you as it pumped ounce after ounce of cum deep, deep inside you. It felt so warm, practically hot, and you were a bit dizzy and dazed from all that, falling down onto the bed– and Mr. Cedar, by complete accident. 

“S-sorry!!” you quickly got up off of him, but Mr. Cedar looked almost…unresponsive.

“Uh…Mr. Cedar…?” you nudged him a little bit. Silence. His glasses were fogged up and he looked dazed and glassy eyed. 

“I’m dreaming aren’t I…?” he mumbled. “You’re not real…just a figment of my imagination…” You sighed and pulled yourself away from him, sitting next to him in bed to catch your breath.

“Oh come on now, we both gotta face that this isn’t all a dream,” you said, almost laughing at him. Mr. Cedar sat up, gaining his senses and looking over at you. Naked, sweaty, covered in his cum, and so so beautiful.

“I uh…do you need help cleaning up…?” he asked. “I know you just showered, but it would be rude of me not to care for you…you did after all show me an amazing time.” 

“I would actually prefer a drink…that actually got me a bit winded…” you smiled. Such a short time together, and yet seeing you smile like that made Mr. Cedar’s heart skip a beat. His first time being intimate in so long…and with literally a person he’s dreamed about for way too long. You went to the bath, and Mr. Cedar grabbed a robe from his closet, when all of a sudden he heard a knock at the door. Ah! Seemed like one of the guards might be here with a message. 

“Yes…?” He answered the door. One of the nutcracker guards was there, kneeling so they’d be eye to eye due to being a massive 7 feet tall in comparison to the average elf. 

“I’m here to escort the ‘present’ to a safer location, as requested from one of the managers,” the guard answered. Mr. Cedar thought he’d be happy to know that this issue was going to be out of the way…but…part of him did wish you stayed at least a little bit longer after that. But no matter…he had to keep professional.

“Of course, give me a second and I’ll retrieve them,” he closed the door, waiting until you came out, now completely dressed back in your pajamas.

“My dear! Great news! We have a nice safe location for you to stay until the night we send you home!” Mr. Cedar told you. “And now there's a decent means of discrete transport, standing right outside the door!” 

“Oh yeah…?” you yawned. “I apologize for uh…making a request, but can I travel tomorrow morning? I’m actually a bit worn out.”

“Of course, of course! So sorry!” Mr. Cedar almost seemed…extremely excited hearing that. “My bed is free for you to use, but…” he went back into his closet for a spare set of sheets. “Here, cleaner sheets, and I’ll get you that drink, just water or would you like something special?”

“Just water, thanks a lot.” Mr. Cedar left the room, and you went to change the sheets. Once the bed was made you realized you felt like a rock about to tumble down a hill, you were truly completely tired, and even if this bed was just a little bit too small, it was so so inviting, and all you wanted to do…

…Was to just fall into a deep, deep sleep…

…At least that’s what you planned.

How long were you out? An hour? Maybe too, suddenly, you were awake, just as the glowing eyes of a large wood and metal man was staring down at you. Oh…on a giant nutcracker. This was the guard Mr. Cedar was talking about. 

“It’s cramped in here,” he said. “But come with me, the workshop is closing down for the night.”

“Huh…? Already…?” you yawned. 

“Yes,” the middle of the guard’s chest opened up, showing a small storage area inside, and out popped a white fur coat, one that seemed to be fit for your size instead of an elf’s.

“I was instructed to guide you out of the warehouse, we have to make sure you’re not seen.” You were picked up with ease, and escorted out of the room back into the main office. Mr. Cedar seemed to have fallen asleep right at his desk, looks like he cleaned up while you were asleep and went back to work. The coat was placed on you as well as a hat and earmuffs, so you were bundled up so well that it was hard to discern exactly what you looked like. 

“Come with me,” the guard instructed.

“C-can I say goodbye to Mr. Cedar first?” you asked. You weren’t going to see him again after all…

“No, it’s time sensitive that we leave now,” you were nearly pushed out, and you looked back at the sleeping Mr. Cedar with a frown before leaving. It looked like the halls were completely empty. Only people left were other large nutcracker guards patrolling the area, and they didn’t pay either you or the guard any mind. 

After a long, slow elevator ride, and a dark, silent walk down a back hall, where there was not another elf in sight. However, once you were out in the cold, snowy outside, at the back of the factory, you noticed something odd about your transportation. 

The guard guided you to a sled, with very large, dark gray reindeer with massive, gnarled horns like rotting old branches. Inside the shed, waiting, were two other men. They were elves…you think. Both of them had the appearance of blue, frostbitten skin, and gnarled white and gray hair. One had two wooden prosthetic legs, and the other was rather burly for his size, and was finishing up a sausage roll.

“You got the package?” one of them asked.

“Yep, now get in,” the guard instructed you. You looked hesitant, looking at the sled, and then looking at the guard.

“You guys…don’t seem to be working for this place…” you muttered. A brief pause was in the air, but suddenly the guard grabbed you forcefully, one hand over your mouth so you wouldn’t scream as you tried to struggle and kick out of his grip, but it was almost light being in a fist fight with a mechanical crane with how powerful he was.

“Get ‘em in! Hurry, we can’t let anyone see us!!” the “elf” with the prosthetic legs brought out some rope, tying your ankles together after forcing them in his grip, while the bigger guy got your arms and then put a cloth over your mouth.

“We’d be gentler but we know we’d get in trouble if we did!” the bigger “elf” chuckled. “Now c’mon, boss is gonna get cranky with us!” You tried to scream, tried to force yourself out of these bindings, but now that was gonna be even harder once the guard stuffed you in a roughly woven sack and tied it shut.

“Good job big fella…” the prosthetic “elf” walked up to the guard, to which the guard knelt down, and he took something off his helmet. A small blue sapphire, or rather a shard of ice that almost looked and felt much like a gemstone. At that, the guard went limp, closed his eyes, and fell right into the snow. 

“Now then, let’s deliver this present to the boss!” Both “elves” got back on the sled, and you could feel the rough, rickety start as it left, leaving with you, and out of sight of the factory. You thought you’d be safe for the three weeks you were trapped here! And now you were going who knows where, and the only thing you could do inside this sack was struggle and try to break out of your binds. You had to have hope, there was some means of escape out of here. Something was going to happen and you could run away from these freaks and find a means to escape!

But…then what was next? Where would you run to? Would there be someone willing to help you once you found your way out of this?

All of this was becoming a nightmare all over again, but you had to cling on to whatever hope that you could get out of this safely.

[neil-neil-orange-peel]

loved the rik and ade fest you arranged with @/xgardensinspace recently! it made me curious, if you would rank your favorite rik and ade projects how would you rank them? :)

Aw thank you! I'm glad you liked it. The fest is always fun to run. ❤️

Now that's a tricky question! I'm very bad at ranking my favourite funny shows at the best of times. 😂 A lot of it just depends on my mood in the moment. Here's an attempt:

Joint first - The Young Ones and Bottom - sorry! Far too difficult to decide which of these beats the other for me. They're both brilliant and changed my world. While containing obvious similarities, they both also offer differences. So, yeah, really depends on my mood. The world of TYO is certainly more raw and surreal, which I think makes sense as it was the gang's first proper foray into television and sitcom, but that's part of what I love about it. And, perhaps because of that factor, it captures something true about youth, which is why multiple generations of young people have found it resonating with them. It's very exciting and angry and just, bloody hell, so entirely accurate. Richie and Eddie, on the other hand, have more depth and emotional realism as characters (feels insane to say that about Bottom, but still 😂). You can feel Samuel Beckett oozing out of the mouldy walls of their flat. The situation in Bottom should be extraordinarily depressing - a warning, even, about what happens if you just let life happen to you - but instead it's brilliant and hilarious and full of pervy, disgusting joy. That's the magic of sitcoms.

Third - The Comic Strip Presents... - I really like anthologies. It's a shame they're so rare these days, given recent examples like Inside Number 9 and Black Mirror have been so successful, though I get that they're generally more expensive and more of a gamble as far as viewing figures are concerned. I love the world of the Comic Strip. The series just felt really creatively inspirational to me when I first watched it. I love the idea of a gang of mates all writing and producing stories. How insanely cool? That said, it's not got the top spot for me because not every Comic Strip is gold standard. There are definitely a few I've only seen once. There are some with flaws that I still love, but there are also a fair few (of the later series, perhaps when the magic was wearing off) that just don't cut the mustard for me. But there are some truly great offerings: both Bad News episodes, Mr Jolly Lives Next Door, the Famous Five parodies, Consuela (my fave ❤️), Dirty Movie, A Fistful of Travellers' Cheques, The Strike, Red Nose of Courage, Demonella, Gregory: Diary of a Nutcase, the list goes on. For the most part, the imperfections and rough and ready style are part of the various Comic Strips' charm.

Fourth - The Dangerous Brothers - I absolutely love this double act. This is where it all started for Rik and Ade, after all! Richard being the dominant one is also an interesting twist on their usual dynamic - they're basically Laurel and Hardy but more violent and a lot ruder. 😂 But seriously, you can tell Ade takes a lot of inspiration from Stan Laurel. There's this specific face he does. The only reason they're fourth here is because, as sketch characters, I suppose there was only so far they could go with them. That's not to shit on sketch characters! A good sketch character is gold dust, just check out Harry Enfield's repertoire. And it's not as if sketch characters can't grow into something more versatile Alan Partridge Alan Partridge Alan Partridge since that's arguably what Richie and Eddie of Bottom were (the pinnacle of an ever deepening progression of Rik and Ade's dynamic). The Dangerous Brothers are mad fun, but with so many other Rik and Ades on offer, I've had to be harsh. Sorry lads. 😂

Fifth - Kevin Turvey - Ade appears in The Man Behind the Green Door, so it counts! I have a lot of love for Kevin Turvey; compared to most of Rik's characters, he's a sweetheart. I also really like it when comedians have a character inspired by the place they grew up in. The world of Kevin Turvey still has the anger and surrealism we'd expect from Rik Mayall projects, but it's much more toned down. This was very early Rik, so Kevin is just very interesting, in that respect. I'm sure he'd appreciate that. The fact Rik let him write a chapter of his autobiography says a lot about his relationship with him, even if he was ultimately superceded by a bunch of other bastards called Richard. 😂 The main reason he's so low down on this particular list is just because Ade doesn't feature much, so it's not super reflective of their double act.

Sixth - Filthy, Rich & Catflap - Look, I'm not here to contribute to the FR&C hate in the world. 😂 I don't think it's as bad as people at the time made out, but I'd also be lying if I said it's their best work. Richie and Eddie are important as a crossroads point between Rick & Vyvyan and Richie & Eddie of Bottom, and Nigel is amazing as Filthy, but they're never gonna be as beloved as those who came before and after them. Also, Richie Rich's hair is worse than Richard Dangerous' to me. 😂 I think it was a mistake, though I understand why it was done, to advertise FR&C as the successor to TYO. Of course, in comparison, it was going to fall flat. Although it's satirising the old British showbiz world, why on earth would the young audience they picked up from TYO - who didn't necessarily feel enamoured by that - want to watch their favourite characters morph into people from that world? It's similar in tone to TYO, but the world it inhabits just doesn't come alive in the same way. FR&C is also very wordy - which, kudos to Rik and Ade primarily for remembering all those lines, and to Ben for writing them - but, in the first episode especially, this definitely slows the pacing down. Rip.

I've only included stuff with Rik AND Ade, hence the absence of The New Statesman etc. Apologies if I've missed anything!

Thanks for the ask! ❤️

[mk-wizard]

Disney Fan Theory: Goofy Goof and George G. Geef

Hello, friends. While I am not big on modern Disney, I still love classic Disney and my favourite character is Goofy. I even enjoy his animated shorts in my adult life. However, I noticed with time, tons fan theories about this character, his history and family tree have come to light. In fact, I have one of my own that I want to share. Before throw it out there though I want to describe Goofy Goof’s character and history vs. George G. Geef’s.

Goofy Goof (the definitive version) is a sweet to a fault, kind and jolly klutz with a heart of gold and tends to have these bouts of wisdom. His sense of style and demeanor is endearingly nerdy and his trademark accessory is his green hat though there are times he doesn’t wear it. His first pet was a grasshopper named Wilbur though it can be assumed that he passed away. Sometime after that, Goofy got married and had his son Maximillian Goof who is more commonly known as Max. Tragically, Goofy’s wife died in a car accident while their son was a still a baby and raised him alone since while taking in his second pet a cat who he named Waffles. By the time Max was about eleven, Goofy moved to Spoonerville and right next door to the Pete family. Considering Waffles is not in the picture when Max is older, it can be assumed that the cat passed away. Later on when Max moves out for college, Goofy also got his own college degree at long last and has gone through many odd jobs over the years. In present day, Max is eighteen while living alone and Goofy has adopted his third pet being a kitten named Mr. Pettibone. Goofy is also officially in a relationship with Clarabelle Cow.

This brings us to a lates 50s to early 60s version of Goofy: George G. Geef. It’s very clear that George is a Goofy, but not THE Goofy. George is still clumsy, whimsical and even makes Goofy’s trademark sounds especially his laugh. However, his personality is much more serious, he has a bit of a temper, he has a slight ego and he is not above doing selfish things like gambling in secret. However, he is ultimately a good person and his sense of style and demeanor has much more finesse than Goofy does and he works in a office to this day. George does not have his two teeth exposed, he has a flesh coloured face, a black nose and black hair with black ears which he usually styles to be hidden most of the time while his body is flesh coloured all over. When George was single, he took in his first pet which a puppy named Bowser who eventually grew up and was pretty naughty. Later on, George got married (and it can be assumed that by then, Bowser passed away as he is not in the picture) and eventually had a son named Goerge G. Geef Jr. who everyone calls Junior. Like George, Junior styles his ears in such a way that they are hidden, he has a flesh coloured face and a flesh coloured body. However, his nose is pink and his hair is red which are traits he inherited from his mother. When Junior got older, the Geef family took in both a cat and a dog though their names were never specified. It is also hinted that George’s marriage got a bit rocky at one point as Mrs. Geef began to flirt with other men, but soon after, it was hinted that they worked things out and are happily married while Junior is as last seen in elementary school.

Now... I know the Disney wiki lists these two as being the same character, but I don’t I need to explain how that doesn’t make any sense as I don’t even need to list how different these two are. However, Disney insists that these two exist in the same universe and in the same timeline.

I know there is another fan theory out there that states that the Goofy who is Max’s father is actually George’s son grown up, but I think I don’t think that’s likely. While I can confirm that people who are redheads or blondes in their youth can wind up as brunettes in their adult life, I don’t think Goofy is Junior grown up because his last name is “Goof” not “Geef” and he’s too proud of his dad and family in general to be the type of person who changes his last name. Also, when he talks about his home life and childhood and all flashbacks of his youth indicate that not only was Goofy very different from Junior, when it was the 70s, Junior was a child while Goofy was a teenager.

This brings me at long last to MY fan theory to what Goofy and George are to each other. I think George is Goofy’s uncle. Specifically, Goofy’s grandfather is the brother of George’s mother meaning that they are also separated by a generation. Goofy did mention that he had a big family that was close nit. I say this because the timeline makes it so that it makes sense this way and because this is the only sensible way Goofy and George can exist at the same time while still both being Goofys. In fact, I don’t think a lot of the Goofys are the same person, but that’s a theory for another day.

Anyway, that is just my fun little theory, What is yours? Thank you for reading and as always, stay safe.

[niennanir]

Five Days to Christmas

The last of the cookies are delivered. Taking cookies to the neighbors has turned into one of the best parts of my Christmas. Mr and Mrs J live two doors down and when Mr J opened the door he waved me into the house and then called over his shoulder “Baby, the nice neighbor made us cookies again!” The J’s have 4 kids under 8 and the eldest, J1, came running, gleefully took the bag from his father and started digging. 

Everyone loves the pink strawberry cookies, I have no idea why.

By the time I finished my conversation with Mrs J, J1 had finished his first pink cookie and had started on his second and J3 had a pink cookie in each hand. J2 slept through the whole thing hanging off the sofa and I am not in charge of her disappointment so I left before she could wake up and discover all the pink cookies had been eaten.

Next stop; A’s across the street. I made it as far as the driveway before I heard a sound from the house like tires peeling out on the pavement and the front door banged open, spilling out A Jr and his older sister P, both of whom were squealing ‘Cookie Day’ with about twenty more syllables than the words actually contain. A’s wife C told me they’ve been waiting for a week for my arrival as if I were jolly and wearing a red coat. P asked if I made pink cookies this year and when I replied that I made sure she had some she tackled me in a hug before taking the bag and heading into the house.

Note to self: Make more pink cookies.

A’s family was hit pretty hard by the hurricane. They’ve not had the house long and it wasn’t in the best of repair when they got it. They’ve had contractors in and out of the house nearly every day since the power came on again in October but C tells me they’ll have the house put right by Christmas. So between that and the cookies everyone is in high spirits there. 

Mr and Mrs W and the little W’s are new here, they moved in a week before hurricane Ian and they’ve been good neighbors so far. I’ve never seen a 7-year-old hug a bag of cookies before but W2′s expression of total bliss as she cradled the brown paper wrapping like an infant was probably the funniest thing I’ve seen in a while. Two minutes later she had a gingerbread man hanging out of her mouth and her brother W Jr was trying to pry the bag from her without being too obvious about it.

Sometimes it seems like there are about twice as many things that need doing as there are hours to do them. I’ve felt spread thin for a long time now and more than once I thought about cutting out the unnecessary. W2 and P are out in the street, riding their scooters and discussing which cookies were the best. (News flash, it’s the pink cookies) So maybe what I really need to be doing is thinking about what qualifies as necessary.

[slimylayne]

The bit in mr jolly lives next door where riks character falls asleep on ades character………..sleepy babies……

[mr-imagin8ion]

Mixed Breeds comics 2019

I believe I've broken the record for the most time anyone has ever spent thinking about the Bagel and Becky Show.

In the story "Kitty Hawk", Muffin converts the house into a plane.

In "A Groundhog Carol", Bearl and Muffin help make Groundhog Day a more profitable holiday. In "Snow Man's Sky", Dixie's snowmen take over the town.

In "Mixspeare in the Park", the characters reenact a Shakespearean play.

In the silent story "You're Never Fully Drenched Without a Smile", Bearl discovers that his smile can stop rain. In "Feynman-ly Guy", Mr. Feynmanbot retires to start a family.

In "Bearl and Muffin's Big Bumble", the duet has to go to sensitivity training after making an offensive joke about bees. In "Paper Bag Heaven", Muffin finds a world inside a bag.

In "Identity Crisis", chaos ensues when Bearl and Muffin switch two dogs' names. In "Winner, Winner, Kitty Dinner", a new restaurant for cats is opened. And in "To Be Answered In Our Next Issue", the duet looks for a lost punchline.

In "Dogstiny's Child", the duet uncovers a secret about a pop star. In "Knockin' On Muffin's Door", the duet discovers animals who need their help.

In "A.N.T. Form", Muffin shrinks herself to find food. In "Narwhal Rider", the pair becomes enchanted by a narwhal. And in "Jolly Roger", Baugo's happy cousin visits.

In "The Safari Side", Bearl and Muffin return from a safari to find African animals safariing them. In "Summertime Blues", the duet's beach is taken over by Australians.

Timeline note: At this point in time on the Vermont-Quebec border, a young Notrick McDon'tell is about to activate the time portal that will send him back to 1994 to write "Mixed Breeds". Then, the old Notrick McDon'tell who had been living in the past and writing for 25 years approaches the young one, meets him, and embraces him, the act of which restabilizes the timeline and merges the past and present. And it's pretty sweet.

In "Dog Ate It" (above), Dixie starts a venture where Bearl eats her homework. In "The Totally-Not-Iron Chef", Mr. Feynmanbot goes on a cooking show, but has to hide that he's a robot. In "Family Dripcation LXVII", Morty and Mattie revisit a vacation spot, but versions of them from other years begin to show up.

In "Postnie with a Chance of Meatballs", Postnie is cursed with the power to control the weather.

In "The Day The Magic Flopped", Muffin loses her magic. In "The Grateful Fed", the duet become zombies.

In "Shoo Fitz", Fitz's job is superseded by a new worker. In "Ruff, Actually", Winnie randomizes the relationships of everyone in town.

In "The Snowtrix", Muffin's invention of matching snowflakes turns the world into a simulation. And in "Santa Muffin", Muffin takes on the role of Santa.

Original strips: January 2019, February 2019, March 2019, April 2019, May 2019, June 2019, July 2019, August 2019, September 2019, October 2019, November 2019, December 2019

[alizstories]

Chapter one: How it started

How it started:

Sir, what's your taste?

Cheap. Cheap. It's not for someone special. I'm just trying to get the pressure off of my shoulder.

What is the occasion, sir? A birthday?

No, it's more like an anniversary.

OK, I Recommend you… this one. 

How much is it?

Do you like it, sir?

It doesn't matter, I told you. I want it to be cheap.

Oh, I understand. 

So, How much?

One thousand five hundred dollars, but I can sell it as low as 1300 to you.

Impressive, but why am I getting 200 off the original price?

I want to get rid of this, you know. I paid 6000 for this 11 years ago, and no one ever liked it. Whoever saw this felt such a creepy sensation that it made them hesitant to purchase.

I can see.

Yeah, but I can sell it cheaply since you don't care about the look. Do you want it?

Oh, Yes, of course. I'm paying cash.

Great.

****

November, 1982. USA, Austin, Texas.

News reporter:

The neighbors reported a house fire at about 2:30 in the afternoon today. After that, the firefighters and the police arrived to see what happened. The house belonged to Mr and Ms. Stevenson, a hard-working salesman at Banshee Security Company.

As reported, Mr. Stevenson's wife, Jolly, and their two sons were at home during the incident. Unfortunately, all of them are reported dead. 

James showed up at his house when he heard the news, but he was silent and showed no signs of sadness. He pushed the police officers at the door away to get in, but they blocked his way.

He was down on his knees and was looking at the flames. In his mind, he saw all those memories and moments he had with his wife. The plans they had together for their children. The years of work he had done to build the house Jolly wanted. He was broken like a boy who saw his sand castle destroyed by the ocean's waves. 

His family was living in New York, and he had to stay with his wife's family: his father-in-law, Mr. Robert Brown, an old farmer who was a hero in WW2. Robert could feel the amount of pain James was in. At least he could see how depressed he was in his face. Ms. Brown ordered some food for dinner, which none of them touched. 

Robert sat next to James and told him: Son, you've done anything you could for your family; you should know it was all an accident. It would help if you didn't blame yourself.

James said: I don't know. Was it an accident?

What? What do you mean?

You wouldn't understand, Robert. I feel someone did this to us. This past few weeks, I saw a new face in our neighborhood. I never liked him. He was different. He was around our house so often that I had to tell him to fuck off once. Jolly thought I was paranoid. But it has something to do with him. I can swear he is related to this.  

The FBI agent showed up at Brown's house early in the morning.

They had a bad news, a terrible news.

The bodies that they found were indeed Ms. Stevenson and the children, But they were all killed and chopped out before the fire. Each body was cut into ten pieces before they were burned. The signs of a doll saw blade were on all the bones. They also found out that the killer didn't kill them before cutting them, based on the marks on the bones that proved struggles.

James fell to the ground and shouted: STOP, STOP, I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE, I'M BEGGING YOU, STOP.

You can say that James was a big man, but when he was on the ground, he was so small suddenly to the eyes that he was as small as a boy. Jolly always called him a baby, not as an insult but as an affirmation. He was always so calm and relaxed whenever he was in her arms. She used to tell him that he looked and sounded so different when he was with her and in public. She found it funny how he acted like a serious man in front of her family while he wasn't anything but a baby in her arms.

Two weeks ago, James saw him for the first time. James has a habit of walking before getting to bed. Before, Jolly would've joined him too. Still, after she gave birth to Tom, their first son, she didn't join him anymore. Still, he wasn't complaining because it was the only time he could smoke a cigarette and think about his plans. Jolly knew he smoked, of course, but she was more amicable than this to tell him anything. 

It was 11 pm, and James was walking to the local store to buy a pack of red Malbros. He saw him in the back of the store; far in the distance, there was a being. It wasn't a man nor an animal; it was a being. Smiling so wide open that James could see the last teeth in their mouth. It was standing tall and half naked, with long, messy hair and black pants that had some stains on them. Except for its head, it had no hair on its body. Its eyes were red, but without any light, they were so dark, and only in the light of the store's windows could James see how red and bloody its eyes were. James was a bit tipsy from the beers he drank after the dinner, so James thought he was just a homeless in the street, so he just nodded at the being and went to the store. James got his cigarettes and walked back into the lane. The being was not there, but he still could hear footsteps behind him while James was walking. He didn't turn his head around, and when he arrived at his home, he finally checked behind him and didn't see anyone following him.

It was his first encounter. However, it wasn't the last one.

After that, he kept seeing a new man in their neighborhood. He was just like the being; he was tall and had long hair, so James assumed he should be the same person. 

The new neighbor was Ramsy, an alone man living in a house his long-dead Aunt had left for him. The house was so old but still was good enough to live in. Ramsy was an artist, but he had several mental ills, such as autism. Therefore, he couldn't get to know anyone in the neighborhood, but his connection with kids was much better. He even came forward and talked with Tom several times, but James didn't like that at all. James yelled at him and told him to fuck off.

The FBI agents came over with a professional detective who had worked on such cases for decades, Detective Gregory Anderson.

He came forward and helped James to stand on his feet; he shook James's hands firmly and guided him to the chair. 

I am Greg, the Detective assigned to your family's case.

Gregory, a tall, middle-aged man with black eyes and gray hair, had a soothing voice and always spoke calmly. He must have liked James, as he introduced himself as Greg, even though he usually went by Mr. Anderson to his coworkers. 

I had been working on the case for several days now, and I was determined to find the answers your family deserved. I had a reputation for being thorough and relentless in pursuing justice. I intended to live up to that reputation in this case. I hope to bring peace and closure to your family during this difficult time.

James remained silent, still in shock and unable to speak. Robert was equally stunned, and Ms. Brown nearly fainted after crying for so long. The room fell into a heavy silence as they struggled to process the news. It was as if time had stopped, and the weight of the situation hung heavily in the air. After a few moments, Ms. Brown composed herself and took a deep breath to gather her thoughts. Robert reached out to James, offering a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

The house showed no signs of forced entry; the killer was able to enter without disturbing the peace of the neighborhood. The police were baffled by the lack of evidence and witnesses. They combed through the house for clues but found nothing. The killer seemed to have vanished into thin air. Their only lead was a faint scent of fear that lingered in the air. They set up surveillance in the neighborhood and interviewed everyone who lived nearby. The killer had left no trace, and the police were left with more questions than answers.

James discussed their new neighbor with Greg.

James said everything about him gave me a bad feeling. Since he came here, everything has changed. I couldn't quite grasp it, but something was unsettling about him. His smile seemed forced, his laughter too loud. And ever since he arrived, things have been off-kilter. People who were once friendly now seemed distant, and there was a tension in the air that I couldn't shake. I tried to brush it off as paranoia, but deep down, I knew something wasn't right. I didn't know what to do about it.

He also described the night that he met him for the first time; he told him how red his eyes looked and how he was half naked at that time of the night in the streets.

Neighbors shared strange anecdotes about Ramsy. One claimed to have witnessed Ramsy chasing after feral cats. At the same time, another reported seeing Ramsy carrying a bag filled with deceased mice. Ramsy was the sole focus of everyone's attention. Ramsy's peculiar behavior continued to puzzle the neighborhood. Some said they had seen him talking to himself in the middle of the night, while others swore they had caught glimpses of him performing strange rituals in his backyard. No one could quite put their finger on what exactly was going on with Ramsy, but one thing was sure - he was the talk of the town.

Finally, the moment had come. Greg was about to interview Ramsy, asking only questions he could answer. As Greg sat across from Ramsy, he could feel the tension in the room. Greg knew he had to tread carefully with his questions. Taking a deep breath, Greg began the interview, determined to uncover the truth behind Ramsy's mysterious persona.

Hello Mr. ...

Stone

I am Detective Gregory Anderson, and I believe you are Mr. Ramsy Stone. I assume you understand the reason for our discussion.

The Boys, I knew the boys. (A teardrop appeared on Ramsy's face.)

Greg was somewhat surprised.

How well do you know the boys, Mr. Stone? I heard you moved to Austin not too long ago. It was about two weeks before the Crime occurred.

We played basketball together on the court near the park.

Mr. Stone, I understand your circumstances and acknowledge that you have multiple mental illnesses, including autism. I believe this may impact your ability to form connections with others. Can you confirm if this is accurate?

Yes

How did you manage to become friends with kids who are at least 15 years younger than you?

I, I like children, sir. I feel safe around them.

Have you ever considered hurting them?

No, sir. I like children. I won't hurt them.

In your documents, there is evidence that you previously encountered an issue during your high school years.

They attacked me; I didn't want to hurt them (again, he started crying while shaking)

Why did you go so far as to break their legs with a steel pipe if you didn't want to hurt them?

They killed Mandy

Who's Mandy

My dog.

Mr. Stevenson told me you sometimes came around his house and talked to the kids. Do you recall this?

Of course, I went to see Tom and Jim to tell them when I go to play. However, after one time when Mr. Stevenson got mad at me, I didn't do that again.

Your neighbors have reported that they witnessed you chasing stray cats at night and carrying bags containing deceased animals. Can you confirm or deny these allegations?

I use deceased animals in my art.

Art? What kind of Art?

Paintings, sculptures, taxidermies, and photography.

So You do various forms of art. Can we visit your residence?

No, I wouldn't say I like that.

Very well, we will meet again after I obtain my warrant. You may leave now, Mr. Stone.

The odor emanating from his house was so awful that officers had to wear masks to enter. The stench was overpowering, and it was clear that something was seriously wrong inside. As they cautiously made their way through the rooms, the source of the smell became apparent - piles of rotting garbage and decaying food littered the floors. It was a scene of utter neglect and squalor, and the officers could hardly believe someone could live in such conditions. They were appalled by the gruesome items they found: a chair upholstered with rat fur, a mug fashioned from a raccoon skull, various stuffed animals in grotesque poses, and he had a belt made of cat paws. Some of the items had been there for a long time. Ramsy claimed that his Aunt had taught him how to make everything. There were pictures of animals in bizarre human-like scenarios on the walls—a mouse pedaling a bike, a rabbit clutching an umbrella. He invited them to sit on the couch, covered with a patchwork quilt of different animal skins. He offered them some tea, pouring from a teapot shaped like a turtle. He smiled innocently as if he didn't notice their discomfort and curiosity. He said his Aunt was very kind and creative, leaving him all her belongings when she passed away. He said he missed her very much and wanted to share her legacy with others. He asked them if they wanted to see more of her creations, and before they could answer, he led them to a door at the end of the hall. He opened it and revealed a dark room filled with more horrifying sights. There were jars of preserved organs and skeletons of hybrid creatures. He said this was his Aunt’s studio, where she worked with different animals and plants. 

Someone asked him if he had ever sold any of his “art” works; Ramsy replied that he did it for himself but that his Aunt had bought this place with the money she earned from selling her own “art.” He said that she was a famous artist in the underground scene and that her works were sought after by collectors who appreciated her unique style and vision. He told her loyal fan base admired her courage and creativity.

His house was filled with repulsive and strange things, but there was no trace of human presence. They could not confront him directly, but his living conditions and behavior aroused their suspicion.

Another thing that struck Greg was Ramsy's odd confidence in his house and his lack of any autistic traits, which made him doubt his diagnosis. He decided to verify it; he looked over the papers again and found the doctor’s name and address, who had confirmed his condition.

Dr. Li Shufen had diagnosed him with autism when he was 11 years old. Greg was lucky that she was still working in Austin, and he could visit her the next day. He explained the situation to her and asked for her help. Like everyone else who had heard the news recently, Dr. Li was shocked and moved by the incident, and she wanted to do her best to help the detective. However, there was a big problem: She had no records from that time. She said it was long ago and that she only kept documents briefly. She said she could not remember every patient she had ever had, but Ramsy’s records said he and Dr. Li had been in contact for two years. This was unbelievable because she was sure she had never met him. She said her memory was not the best, but she would remember if she had a patient for two years.

But why would Ramsy fake his autism? This puzzled Greg. He couldn't grasp Ramsy's reason for pretending to be autistic. It was an odd and pointless choice. He wanted to uncover the truth behind Ramsy's behavior.

Additionally, Ramsy initially declined to hire a lawyer. However, he spared no expense once he realized suspicion was directed towards him. He hired Maxim Perry, one of the most experienced lawyers in Austin. Greg suspected there was more to Ramsy's story than meets the eye. He couldn't shake off the feeling that Ramsy was hiding something. Perhaps Ramsy was involved in something illegal or had some ulterior motive for faking his autism.

Despite Ramsy's attempts to clear his name, Greg remained skeptical. He knew something was still missing and was determined to find out what it was.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, but Greg refused to give up. He knew a story was here and was determined to get to the bottom. Finally, after months of investigation, Greg stumbled upon evidence that changed everything.

In the summer of 1971, Ramsy had a severe accident in the desert. His car was destroyed, and the other driver's vehicle burst into flames, causing the driver to be badly burned. Ramsy sustained only minor injuries and broke his left hand.

Greg was very interested in the accident. He had a feeling that something was not right. He decided to investigate further and started asking questions. He found out that Ramsy had been driving under the influence of alcohol and was responsible for the accident. However, Ramsy used his connections and wealth to cover up the truth and avoid any legal consequences. 

It was not right; not only did he not have any significant injuries, but he didn't face any legal problems. However, it was clear that he was drunk at the scene of the accident.

The lives of Brown's family and James were destroyed as the police and detectives worked on the case. James was no longer the man he once was, no longer lively. James became withdrawn and haunted by the unfolding events. His family struggled to understand the depth of his pain as he retreated into himself, consumed by guilt and grief. The weight of the tragedy hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over their once-happy home. He rented a small apartment and spent most of his time there. Over time, he became dependent on a medication to help him sleep, which was first given to him by his doctor.

As his dependence grew, he found it more challenging to function without the medication. It became a crutch that he relied on every night. Despite the adverse effects on his health, he couldn't bring himself to stop taking it. His small apartment felt like a prison, and the medication was his only escape. He wanted to end his life, but he couldn't do it without the peace that he needed from justice.

 He resigned from his job and was now living off his savings, so he spent the whole day at home and began drinking in the morning. As the days went by, his drinking became a daily routine. 

His savings were ending, and he knew he needed to find a new job, but the thought of facing the outside world filled him with anxiety. So he continued to drink, numbing himself to the reality of his situation.

One night, he was highly intoxicated and went to Ramsy's door, knocking and yelling, "MURDERER, YOU ARE A MURDERER!" Ramsy didn't open the door and simply called the police to come and take him.

Greg requested Ramsey's presence at the station for questioning the following week. Ramsey responded, "Sir, you are misusing valuable time that should be devoted to finding the killer instead of focusing on someone unrelated to this case."Greg frowned, his eyes narrowing as he considered Ramsey's words. "I understand your concern, but we must cover all bases in this investigation. Your cooperation is crucial in helping us solve this case," he replied firmly.

This time, Ramsey showed up with his lawyer. 

I'm Maxim Perry, Mr Stone's lawyer.

I'm Detective Anderson; I'm glad you came for integration again.

Well, I have nothing to hide.

I doubt that Mr Stone.

Ramsy became a little offensive.

What do you mean by that? Is there anything I need to know?

Mr Stone, Why did you lie to everyone about your condition?

Ramsey, a little shocked, said:

What? This is so offensive, Mr Anderson. Why would I lie about a condition that I had with me since I was a little boy? Everyone in my Family is aware of that.

By family, you mean your long-dead Aunt. Since I could not find any other relative of yours, Mr stone.

I have friends who can tell you about my condition.

Mr Stone, In your documents, I see the name of the doctor who diagnosed you, Dr Li Shufen. Do you remember her? You were her patient for two years.

Ramsey said: Of course, I remember her; I met her two months ago.

Greg smiled and said: Are you sure about that?

Of course, I'm sure. What's the meaning of all this?

Mr Stone, I was at the office of Dr Li just recently.

Ramsey was frozen; he had not expected that.

Greg continued: She did not recognize you. Also, She needed documents proving your visits to her, especially if you visited her recently, because, as she said, she may have lost the old records. Still, it is more interesting now that you say you met her recently.

Ramsey was so angry; his face was red like the flames of the fire that burnt Stevenson's house. 

His lawyer, Mr Perry, advised him to leave. Ramsey said: Can he do that? This information is private. How can he go through my info like that? Also, there must be a mistake, a colossal mistake. That stupid Japanese bitch.

Greg said: She's Chinese.

Ramsey and his lawyer left in a rage.

Still, nothing was proven so the investigation had to be continued.

[crucifiix]

-Gin and tonic? -That’ll do nicely.

[morgys-art]

come in if you’re saucy

[exploding-carrots]

ESCORTS BESTCORTS!

(On redbubble here)

[0dinkydoodles]

ITS NICHOLAS BLOODY PARSONS!

[colourshot-draws]

Two practice sketches of Ade while I figure out this new art program.