#The Un-Discovered Islands

[cauliflowercounty]

Knives Dance (Part I)

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

After years of writing *literally nothing,* I never expected bald Austin Butler to inspire me again :)

Life does wonderful things sometimes.  Feyd Rautha is a fucking snack. And whoops it looks like I invented a planet and a culture :/

Summary: You're the daughter of the Duke of the House of Ronen, and your father and Vladimir Harkonnen have arranged a marriage between you and Feyd-Rautha to join your two houses.  When the House of Harkonnen pays a visit to your planet, Feyd discovers something unforeseen within himself during an assassination attempt…

Reader: she/her pronouns 

Warnings: innuendo/suggestive content, attempted assassination, blood, violence, multiple murders

Word Count: 4.2k

Part I | Part II | Part III

--

The hydraulics whirr as the black metal ramp of the Harkonnen vessel opens downward onto the stone landing pad on planet Youra and hits the ground with a low thunk. Feyd follows his uncle as he floats out of the vessel toward the doors of the Youran citadel, which is nestled in the center of a towering mountain covered in dense forest. Through the canopy, he sees the flickering lights from within the treehouses that adorn the forest cover. 

The fortress itself is bathed in a warm, yellow glow from the round floating lanterns that surround it.  As they hover, they seem to spiral upwards in a concentric spiral and extend their reach up into the night sky. A line of Youran soldiers flank the walkway, dressed in ceremonial garb of earthy, brown leathers with teal accents and intricate geometric patterns.  As the Harkonnens pass, the soldiers bow their heads to them, allowing the carved silver helmets to shine in the evening light. 

The environment here could not be further from that of Giedi Prime with its cold, industrial landscape devoid of color and the stench of sulfur and gas.  The jungle air here is saccharine and floral on Feyd’s tongue.  He feels the brush of the evening breeze flowing past him out toward the sea from the surrounding jungle. As he breathes in, he notices the richness of the air, imbued with the essence of all the flora that have made Youra a treasure trove for natural resources and experimental medicines, reminding him why he and his uncle have arrived on this planet.

The endeavor to secure spice on Arrakis had not gone as smoothly as the Harkonnens had hoped, especially with constant Fremen attacks sabotaging their forces and Rabban’s pitiful attempt at countermeasures. The current state of their operation and the number of soldiers they were losing daily called for acquiring a new tactical advantage.  As much as they hated to admit it, they would have been foolish not to seek one out. 

The advantage lay on Youra, the planet of island rainforests and the home of the minor House of Ronen, where an uncountable number of plant and animal species flourished, supplying the population with life-saving natural compounds the renowned scientists had been extracting from nature and developing for centuries.  Through this arranged marriage, the wealth of chemical knowledge and access to the raw materials would become House Harkonnen’s. Feyd could begin to taste his ascension to power. This was simply the next step necessary to turn the tides of this conflict on Arrakis, which would inevitably end in him assuming the title of Baron if not Emperor. 

With a low rumble, the double doors in front of Feyd open to reveal your father and yourself.  Laying eyes on you for the first time, Feyd stops in place, his heavy black boots almost stuck on the ground.  When the conversation of an arranged marriage came up with his uncle, he was beyond apathetic, knowing that this would be a political move in which he had no obligation to have any investment. The woman would become his wife only by title.  To his astonishment, he is entranced by your beauty, to the point of speechlessness. He almost completely ignores your father’s greeting and speech about the union of your two houses. You are radiant with your skin that glows in the light, unlike that of the Harkonnen women he is used to seeing. You look into his eyes, and he feels almost locked in, the rest of the world fading until all he sees is you. 

“Welcome to our home, na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you say to him, not breaking eye contact from underneath your headdress. Your striking eyes bore deep into his soul. It’s almost as if they’re calling to him.  What’s most interesting to Feyd is that they don’t seem to contain a hint of fear or apprehension. He is used to making those around him crumple under the weight of their own terror with his mere presence so he can exploit those emotions and manipulate them as his own personal playthings.  In defiance of his reputation, you seem undeterred by him staring straight at you. As your eyes glimmer in the lamplight, he feels his breath almost catch as they taunt him, draw him. Snapping himself out of the trance, a smirk forms on his lips, remembering how his uncle taught him to behave. He forces himself to relish the thought of toying with your apparent resolve. 

As he looks down, he eyes your lavish, floor-length regalia. The same deep brown and teal that your father and the soldiers wear decorates the patterns on your cloak. He notices lines of gold thread woven into your hair, an appropriate show of the natural resources of your planet. 

Strange, he thinks. The cloak is rather large and heavy. Despite matching the designs of the other Youran garb, it seems out of place to be a traditional outfit for the aristocracy of a rainforest civilization where the warm and humid conditions should prove inhospitable for cloaks of this nature. 

The delicate, meek flower he was expecting to relish picking apart with ease you are not. He’s figured out you're a woman with something you’re intent on hiding from him.  You’ve put on this front either bravely or stupidly, and Feyd-Rautha will peel back every layer one calculated move at a time until you are finally entirely his.  

He steps forward and reaches down to take your hand in his. “My betrothed…” he whispers to you, his voice low and gravelly. “We finally meet, Little One. I must say you look exquisite. I expected nothing less.” He brings your fingers up to his lips and brushes his lips across them before pressing firm a kiss on the back of your hand  His uncle seems most disgusted by Feyd’s tenderness, but Feyd keeps his gaze on you through hooded eyes, knowing that the first move in any game is imperative to the success of his endeavor.  He sees yours flicker for a moment as your body tenses listening to his praise. He’s got you right where he wants you. 

–

Dinner is filled with monotonous diplomacy, tiresome pleasantries, and planning of the wedding to take place on Giedi Prime, but Feyd hasn’t let his attention break from you. It’s as if the kiss he planted on your hand was the catalyst for the first crack in the wall you’ve put up, and now he’s waiting for the perfect moment to make his next move.

All of dinner he’s watched as you attentively listened to his uncle and your father exchange words and eat your dinner. He hasn’t failed to notice how your eyes dart over to look at him through your lashes. With every gesture you make and every word you say, he feels unequivocally enraptured. As much as he’s tried to suppress his emotions and stay faithful to his uncle’s teachings, grounded in violence and viciousness, his mind starts to wander.

He wonders what must it be like to have your touch flutter across his chest when he watches you delicately grasp your water goblet.  When you fold your lips around your cup to drink, he imagines what they must feel like on his skin if you were to drag them down his neck tantalizingly slow. What if you were close enough to him to have your breath fan out across his skin as your lips caressed his? What must it be like to hold your softness in his hands? The very idea makes his breath hitch. 

Of the many thoughts he has as he watches you, many of them becoming increasingly lewd as dinner continues, one remains in his head: if he is this captured by just your face and gaze, basking in the light of what you’re concealing under your cloak, must be heaven adjacent. 

His desire to use you and leverage your own will against you is being chipped away little by little. Feyd’s hardened persona that his uncle helped construct is withering with every second he spends in your presence. The notion is nearly frightening to Feyd, but with every single glance and gesture, his heart, which may have turned to stone long ago, is beginning to accept it.  

Feyd rips his attention away from you as your father stands to thank the Harkonnens once again for coming. “I shall have my servants show you where you shall be staying,” your father announces as he rises from his seat. “I have arranged for our head researchers to show you what progress we have had in our synthetic undertakings as of late. I guarantee you will be very interested in what they have to offer.” 

As you stand, he notices how your hands pull together the front seam of your cloak, preventing it from opening. Curious.

You bid him goodnight and turn away to head to your quarters as a Youran servant beckons him to the guest wing.  That night, Feyd cannot rest as he lays awake in bed in the opulent guest suite, images of you running through his head, and he almost smiles thinking about when you say his name so sweetly.

 “Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.”

–

The next day, Feyd sees little of you.  In the morning, he makes his way to your quarters only to be informed by a servant at your door that you have already departed for the day.  When he asks where you have gone, the servant provides a murky response about your duties as Lady of the House and wedding preparations, which he as her betrothed would “surely understand.” Just as he decides he will find you himself, he is seized by his uncle as to meet the Youran ministers of culture, science, and development to learn about their acquisition.

Feyd cannot deny that your homeworld is impressive.  It’s steeped in centuries of exploration and inquiry with unmatched record-keeping of not only science but tradition, too. The ceilings are vaulted and adorned with gold. The walls of the citadel are covered in elaborate murals painted on with vibrant colors or carved into the surfaces. Some depict traditional folktales, gods, and ceremonies while those opposite them describe the evolutionary lines of species, a true testament to Youra’s modernity and dedication to preserving your peoples’ history in living memory.  If only he knew which mural decorates the wall concealing you. 

As the picture of your world’s history becomes clearer, the air of mystery surrounding you only grows. Not once has he heard talk of you after his interaction with that servant, but throughout the day he has sensed hushed whispers that are almost certainly about him instead. As he passes soldiers, some of them almost seem to leer at his presence.

 A few times, he thinks he can almost see the hem of your cape disappear around corners, but when he goes to investigate, there is nobody there.  The anger he expected to have inside him due to your avoidance is nowhere to be seen, and only a burning intrigue remains. 

“What a little enigma my wife is,” he thinks to himself when he enters the banquet hall for dinner as the last ray of sunlight fades from the windows as the sun dips below the horizon. 

Almost on cue, the doors to the hall open again and to his gratification, it is you.  He stands up from his seat and walks over to you. He cannot deny his own inclination when you smile at him softly, putting him at ease.  

“Good evening, Na-Baron,” you greet as he stops in front of you. Your dulcet tones go straight to his heart, causing it to skip a beat. “I hope I’ve not kept you waiting long.”

“Not at all.”  He takes your hands in his once again, running his thumb along the back of them and savoring the feeling of your soft skin. This time when his heart swells, he lets it happen, surrendering himself to your charm. “I would wait an eternity for you,” he says, realizing you enjoy it when he romances you.  

“You don’t strike me as a man who likes to be kept waiting,” you reply, looking up into his eyes. “I am surprised you are not frustrated with me.”

“I make exceptions,” he replies, noticing how your lips curl into a small smile. “… for when it truly matters.  Since you’ve been absent all day, tell me, Little One, what have you been doing while you were hiding from me all day?”

You let out a gentle exhale. “I assumed you might be curious about that,” you say to him, as you clasp his hands in yours, beginning to tug him backwards to the doors.  “Would you join me outside before we eat, Na-Baron?  I have something I want to show you that I’ve been working on in preparation for our marriage.”  

Allowing you to lead him, he follows you as you pull him through the halls of the fortress.  He senses the answers to the questions he’s been asking himself are within his grasp.  You both head outdoors and descend a grand staircase toward a courtyard nestled in the center of the fortress that overlooks the ocean that is now a murky midnight blue. 

The nighttime lanterns light the way once again, and you both continue into the courtyard which is unlike anything he’s ever seen before. The ground seems to be a single sheet of rust colored stone that is marbled with shards shimmery metals.  The slab has massive circles cut into it spaced in a perfect grid.  Inside the circle is a golden pool of luminescent water.  Tall, half moon shaped walls cradle each pool with glyphs and carvings etched into them. 

“What is this place?” he asks you, basking in the light emanating from all of the pools that surround the both of you as you continue down the center aisle.

“This is my favorite place in the castle,” you explain.  “It’s where we keep one of every species our researchers are currently studying. The rock wall above the pools describes each evolutionary line and the discoveries about it we’ve made. There’s one I want to show you if you would allow me.”

He nods as you bring him to a pool whose accompanying slab remains blank. Looking down into the water, he spots a single indigo fish with long, delicate fins that trail behind it in the water. He watches as it circles the pool. It slows and shudders momentarily. A single incandescent scale breaks off and floats to the bottom of the pool. You kneel to gather the scale from the bottom, holding it so that he can see how the light flickers off its surface.

“Does it intrigue you?” he hears you ask, and he nods in return as something he thought he lost long ago begins to emerge inside of him: his sense of wonder.

“I have never seen such a creature. Would you tell me about it?”

 “It would be my pleasure,” you grin. “This fish was discovered on an archipelago on the other side of the planet. I’ve been studying this fish with our most expert researchers. The pools it lives in almost disappear during the dry season, but we’ve found that they survive to the wet season because of their scales somehow.  My father doesn’t know any of this. He still thinks we know nothing of this creature.”

“It’s marvelous,” he whispers to you, eyeing the small bubbles floating to the top of the water from the fish’s gills. 

“I wanted to show you this fish because this is at the heart of our culture on Youra.  Our people are on a constant mission to learn and discover, so we can help and care for those we hold dearest.  With our marriage, the House of Harkonnen will be a part of that endeavor. I’m showing you this fish because when the fish shed their scales at the beginning of the wet season, they contain a high concentration of a novel compound that allows living things to retain water.”

He sees you fidget with your own hands as you explain. You’re nervous, he realizes. 

“We have been able to extract it from the scales they drop,” you say with a slight waiver in your voice. Here you are bearing your hard work and dedication, your soul to him. Your vulnerability is evident.  Before you were so confident with your gaze and now your eyes never stay on him for more than a fraction of a moment. If you were anyone else, he would have taken full advantage the opportunity to leverage your weakness, but he cannot bring himself to do so.  “This knowledge is my gift to you na-Baron. I have been aware of your endeavors on Arrakis. I realize you may not be as invested in this arrangement as we are, but I wanted to give you this to mark the beginning of what is to come… I don’t expect you to do anything in return. Only wanted to communicate my intentions.”

His heart quivers as his mind darts back to the countless times his uncle has “gifted” things to him as rewards for doing his bidding.  The concubines, armor, and weapons all fall to the wayside; now they’re all tainted in Feyd's mind by his uncle's conniving ways.  They were never gifts in earnest, always being transactional or part of another of his uncle’s Machiavellian schemes. Never in his life had he been given something so thoughtful, something intended to truly protect him. The previous notions he had before of possessing you are bitter on his tongue. Now, he could never and the shame he feels for maybe the first time in years begins to burn into his psyche. 

“Na-Baron,” you plead, bringing him out of his own thoughts.  “Say something, please.”

“Thank you,” he finally says, taking your hands in his and giving them a squeeze. “I am grateful for your generosity, my little flower.”

Your eyes well up with tears and you let out a relieved sigh before your emotions bubble out of you.  “You cannot fathom how happy I am to hear you say those words,” you say, bringing your hands to his again. “I was so worried about showing you this!”

Right when he opens his mouth to respond, his instincts as a warrior kick in as he hears the soft whistle of something flying through the air towards the both of you. In a flash, he’s grabbed you by your shoulder to force you to your knees as you let out a bewildered yelp.  The sound lights his veins on fire and fills him with rage.

Against the blank stone slab of the fish’s pool he sees it: a green splatter of a sinister substance that drips down the stone in long tendrils. Below, the shattered remains of a poisoned dart sinking into the water.  You’ve seen it, too. He swivels himself around in the direction the arrow came from. A hooded figure is emerging from behind another one of the stone walls, a serrated dagger in hand, poised to strike you down.  Feyd reprimands himself for leaving his weapons behind in his room in the name of diplomacy, but he’s prepared to fight empty handed to protect you and punish your assailant.

Before he realizes, you’ve shed your cloak, allowing it to drop to the floor behind you and Feyd can finally see what you’ve been hiding. You’re wearing a sage green dress with a bodice plated in iron that’s been secured to in place with intricate leather straps and golden loops that wrap deliciously around your figure. The symmetric slits in your dress that extend almost to your hips reveal your garters where two silver daggers that curve into formidable hooks are secured to your outer thighs.

As soon as he realizes you’re armed, you’ve already grasped the leather wrapped handles of your weapons and drawn them from your thighs with a flourish, launching yourself at your attacker. The ground reverberates with your power, and your blades ring out as they clash with your opponent’s. The man grunts upon impact and with a vigorous push, you knock his weapon upwards and away from you as you swipe at his face with the other hand. When he stumbles backwards, his face covering is swept to the side. 

“Ozran!” you growl as the man regains his composure. “What is the meaning of this? Traitor!”

“I could say the same for you, Lady Ronen, revealing our secrets to that Harkonnen!” Ozran snarls at you, his eyes wild as he begins swiping sloppily at your head, which you dodge with ease. Feyd knows the man is getting desperate. Ozran is quickly realizing running away would have been the best option after his poisoned arrow missed.

Ozran attempts to shake off his regret by hurling himself at you, trying to recover the situation now that he’s committed to one-on-one combat with you. “I will not stand by and have the rewards of our peoples’ work reaped by them.  Without a daughter to marry off, our intelligence will remain ours, and I will protect it to the end, even if that means killing you.”

Feyd hears you tisk at his pitiful attempt at your life as your heel makes contact with his nose.  Blood gushes from his nostrils and drips down his chin in thick droplets.  He staggers back and loses his footing as you drive your blades into him, your footsteps smearing his blood on the floor as you move.  Ozran’s hope drains from his eyes, and he coughs as you pull your knives back, his blood spilling onto the stone floor from the gaping hole in his body. He drops his weapon and it clatters on the ground beside him.

“Too bad you couldn’t get close enough to actually do any damage,” you say sweetly to him as he wheezes. “You were never a man worthy of battle. I’m surprised you even worked up the courage to merely attempt to kill me.”

“D-don’t worry, dear Lady,” he sneers as his knees hit the floor.  “There are more of us who don’t appreciate our leaders betraying our ideals. They will avenge me, and you will join me in death.”  With that, his body crumples in the pool of his own blood. Drawing his last breath, Feyd sees Ozran’s consciousness fade.  From the shadows and behind the other stone walls, he senses more figures lurking.

“Na-Baron!” you call, as you throw Feyd your second knife, which he catches with a flick of his wrist as you pick up Ozran’s weapon.  Your dagger is robust and extraordinarily crafted, truly a weapon worthy of your status Feyd thinks. With that, he joins you in battle when Ozran’s allies pounce, eager to avenge their fallen comrade. One by one, he cuts the treasonous soldiers down with you by his side, slashing their throats, stabbing them in their backs, hearing their bones break, and tendons tear.  It’s exhilarating, fighting not just for you, but with you in perfect synchronization.  

When the last one falls, their mangled bodies are piled around you.  He looks at you with complete admiration in his eyes.  Without a second thought, he pulls you close with desperation. Cradling your face in his free hand, he kisses you roughly and swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, tasting the familiar tang of iron. As you kiss him back with a fervor that makes his senses sing, he uses his other arm to pull you close, if he’s worried that you will join the souls of the dead around you and leave this world, something he can’t bear to think of now.   

Reluctantly, you both break away from the kiss, resting your foreheads against one another.  Your breaths are thick and heaving.  You look down at his dominant hand, which still holds your second dagger.

“Are you going to kill me now, Na-Baron?” you ask as you look up at him, and he instinctively throws the knife away, letting it clatter on the floor. He shakes his head.

“I never anticipated my betrothed to have such prowess in battle,” he whispers lowly, returning his hand to your body.  He drags his fingers across the places where the straps of your dress make indentations in your skin, making you shiver at his touch. His grip on your waist tightens when he palms your supple skin. You hum a sigh of satisfaction that is almost music to Feyd’s ears, and he could listen to it all day.  “Watching you cut down each of them… What a lovely surprise it was… You are truly an unexpected paragon, my dear.”

“Unexpected…” you chuckle, blushing at his flattery. “May I ask another question of you?”

“Of course,” he replies, peering down at you with an ardent stare.

“Before coming here, were you aware there are many dangerous things in the rainforest, Na-Baron?” He nods. “Then why would you assume I am not one of them?”

“Clever girl,” he grins, pressing another kiss on your forehead. 

“From now on, my blades will fight for you, Feyd-Rautha.”

“And mine for you, my love,” he replies as he dips his lips back down to yours.  What a fool he was before, anticipating so little from his future wife. Now he knows better.  He realizes who you really are, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough.

--

Thank you for reading!

Knives Dance Part II OUT NOW!

Let me know if you want to be added to my Feyd tag list

Taglist:

@austinbutlerslovers

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Básicamente un TN o YN que es como Malleus Draconia de Twisted Wonderland (Prácticamente la descripción más importante de Malleus, un ser amable y tranquilo pero muy peligroso y poderoso: por eso muchos le temen... por ese miedo muchos simplemente lo olvidan. (quiero invitarlos a fiestas, reuniones o eventos sociales porque su sola presencia molesta o incomoda a todos, simplemente algo triste)

¿Cómo reaccionarían las naciones de Teyvat al enterarse de que su YN prácticamente NUNCA ha recibido una invitación? Básicamente, están tan contentos con esta invitación que los han invitado a una fiesta.

Traduction:

Basically a TN or YN that is like Malleus Draconia of Twisted Wonderland (Practically the most important description of Malleus, a kind and quiet but very dangerous and powerful being: that is why many fear it… for that fear many simply forget it. (I want to invite you to parties, meetings or social events because your single presence bothers or bothers everyone, just a little sad)

How would the nations of Teyvat react when they discover that their YN has almost never received an invitation? Basically, they’re so happy with this invitation that they were invited to a party

I'm not quite sure how you wanted to put it, but I'll try!

Now, Y/N is hella strong, and I mean, creators are kind of strong. Move mountains, rise the seas, and create blood-turning rivers—ALL THE STAFF.

They have this aura around them—the one that could crash any kind of ego without even flinching a finger. And everyone knows that and fears that—to the point that they never guessed if they were actually happy in that situation.

The reader wasn't that fine with it. To be fair, it wasn't even something that they would enjoy; they felt just so lonely in their giant temple, waiting for someone or something.

Their first invitation came like a warm wind during the winter.

Freminet loved your place—so big, so quiet. He enjoyed that you let him stay at your place, minding him no business at all, just tending to your garden while he was wandering the small lakes in the Creator temple. When he sent them a small letter, an invitation, something clicked in the reader's mind.

"What is this?"

"An invitation to my sister's tea party...for you..."

They have never received any invitations since the day they came to Teyvat. It was so stressful, but they couldn't take away the happy smile on their faces.

When the day of the tea party came, finally Lynette and Lyney understood who their brother friend was that he used to talk about. That wasn't what they thought about. When the Creator himself appeared to them, with a small box full of dessert in their hands and an elegant smile on their faces, the two siblings were in pure shock.

What if they do something to upset the creator? What if Lyney says something wrong? What if... and there you and Freminet just started to enjoy the tea together?

Readre tried so hard to not make anyone feel uncomfortable, but everyone was so stiff, except Freminet; of course, he couldn't be bothered at all by them.

When Readre started to tell how happy they were after receiving that letter from Freminet, Lyney started to make a guess.

"How is it possible that you, the mighty creator, don't receive any invitation to party, even in your own honor?"

"Maybe it's for my jokes?"

Ajh, so the creator was just a big dumbass. What news!

After that, the information started to spread. And the archons started to feel some shame for themselves.

They genuinely believed that the Creator never had time for pitty little pèarty or small festivals; they never could imagine that they could feel so lonely. Things started to change—for the worst, maybe.

"Ooookay! Today we have lunch at Mondstadt with some wine tasting at the Ragnivndr Mansion, then dinner at the Akademiya. Very early, we must go, and I mean, fly, to Watatsumi Island and"

Lumine was just at the beginning of her daily report of the creator's activity. Only to find them half asleep on the table.

"Maybe being the center of attention, it's not so fanatical at all."

[snowywolf1005]

@animatronicanime : Hey, I was wondering if you could do the one-piece old generation where Roger pirate discovers of lunala and nika Love Story. Or the Gear 5 Luffy x Lunala reader? please! 🥺

Roger crew are going to a leagdary place called Mexico? Well, let hurry up!!!!

The crew all appeared to sail, and victoria showed Roger a compass that led the way to Mexico. "So this compass will lead us to Mexico?" Oden asked. Victoria nodded. "Okay, we're going west blue, where the fog will be at," said Sofia.

A few seconds later, they reached the west blue where the fog was at, "it so foggy, I can't even see damn thing," said Rayleigh. "The fog is so big that you couldn't even see. Even if you try to go in, it'll turn you back where you started," Ema

"Well, there is a way to get in. If we play the song called La lorona, " said victoria, "la lorona?" Buggy asks. "Yes!" So Jack got the radio disc and the box that can play the music.

Roger and the crew watch as Ema and victoria are prepared to play the music. And it begins...

Everyone was surprised by the beautiful song. They straight in the fog, the song still playing. It was so dark in here, but they turned on the lanterns. "Hey, guys, do you hear people singing the song? It is like getting louder, " said Shanks.

"Agree, I could hear them, but I can't see them," said oden, looking around, then a huge shadow appeared, scared the living shit out of them, and more boats came. "quién eres!?" The man ask, who is wearing a military suit, "uh, what he say?" Roger asks.

"He asks who are we, don't worry, I'll do the translate," said victoria.

"Disculpe señor, estamos aquí para ir a México con mis amigos. Mi nombre es Victoria, ya conoce a mi hermano, que se une al ejército." She said.

The translate : excuse me, sir! we're here to go to Mexico with my friends. my name is victoria, you know my brother, who joins the military.

"Wow, she pretty good," said Shanks, so the military let them in, then they saw Mexico City but not the tall building. Just a old Mexico city. The crew was surprised, they saw cars (it their first time). Roger crew went to the museum to learn about joyboy and luna.

They did hear the story of luna. Victoria told the Roger crew about a history of Mexico and how it started. "Victoria, I remember I told you about in Mexico, how there kaiju?" Buggy, ask, Victoria nodded.

"Well, where is it?" He questioned, "it in the other side of land, not far, you will see the island called kaiju island," she said.

Everyone was excited, "In fact, the military couldn't let anyone in the kaiju island." Everyone frown. Oh! Yeah! They also went to see the poneglyph that was written by luna. It was in the old ancient castle, which was about 900 years ago.

The poneglyph is in the castle, where they hide something that nobody knows. The military let the Roger crew see, not letting anyone see what was going on.

But victoria brought a friend named Ana, who is researching an ancient history worker, and she studied Mexico ancient history.

"The poneglyph," said Roger, oden walked closer to the poneglyph and focused the letters. "What does it say?" said Ema, oden was surprised by the writing, "what is it, oden!?" Rayleigh asks, "written some love story," Oden said.

"A love story?" Roger question, "Ana, explain please, " said Jack. "Well, we research, and we found out that luna talks about how she met joyboy for the first time, and she wants to tell her people about it," said Ana.

Shanks looked around and saw some painting on the wall, "Hey, Ana, what with these walls?" Shanks ask. The crew looked at the wall, seeing the painting of people, "Oh! These paintings are tells a story, we work hard to study these paintings and find we did find luna form"

Everyone was interested in it. "And where is luna form painting?" Ana, point up. Everyone looks above to see this painting:

"Luna form!" Oden yelled, "No way! It huge!!" Buggy scream, they never seen luna from heights. "Yep, when we first saw it, we were surprised to see," said Ana, "I was wondering what in the kaiju island?" Roger asks.

"When me and my friends went kaiju island with the military, we found another ancient city. we looked around to see and found a pyramid. we went inside and found another poneglyph."

The crew dropped their jaw, "a another poneglyph!? Victoria! You said there's only one!" Oden yelled, "I didn't know there's another poneglyph!! Ana, when it happened!!??" Victoria question.

"It happened when you left to go on an adventure!" Said Ana, "that makes sense, " Victoria said.

Now Roger and his crew will go on adventure to go to Kaiju island to study all about Mexico history.

Part 3 is coming soon!!

[yore-donatsu]

"Je savais que ça allait arriver mais merde !! Nnnnnnnnnnnnoooon !! Blooooobby !! Tu vas plus avoir de nouvelles armes ni de nouveaux enemies à tabasser après cette derniére maj !!!! Ouuuuuuuuuuuuuin !!!"

Yeah, I'm too lazy to translate my dialogue. Deepl is your friend !

Seriously, I'm sad to hear this news, but on the other hand, I much prefer it. Keep on giving content that's in danger of not really adding anything to the game and of drowning in it. Herg ! No thanks ! It was a wonderful adventure, and will remain so. Dead Cells is a game that made me discover my tryhard side (Fromsoftware's games and Hollow Knight too but shhhhh)

Discover what happened on the island with the few clues provided. DLCs that brought more: Customization, game modes (boss rush), mutations, … A great job

Evil Empire et Motion Twin, je vous dis un grand merci pour cette très belle aventure et que la suite des événements vous sera favorable !

(ne vous inquiétez pas, je continuerais toujours de jouer au jeu et à faire des dessins débiles dessus 😜)

[noticiasarquelogicasjaponesas]

Sean bienvenidos japonistasarqueologos a una nueva entrega, en esta ocasión nos vamos al fondo marino para ver unas de las mayores ruinas arqueológicas que están generando en la comunidad científica muchas controversias desde que fueron descubiertas en 1985. Dicha estructura se encuentra en Okinawa la cual está compuesta por las islas Ryukyu. - Las ruinas tienen unos 10.000 años de antigüedad ¿Hay dos teorías?La primera que dicen los científicos es: que es natural.La segunda es que es artificial.Yo he visto, todo el material registrado hasta el momento en fotos y vídeos para ser sinceros no me parece para nada natural hay puntos en lo que claramente que están trabajados por la mano del hombre. Sí nos imaginamos el montículo fuera de la superficie lo más probable es que se pareciera en su forma natural a una elevación en el terreno y lo más probable es que estuviera en su estado más virgen.-También hay que destacar que el nivel del mal sobre esas fechas era 120 veces más bajo que el actual, por lo que no sería raro que los moradores lo usaran como un lugar sagrado. Ya que para los japoneses el trabajo en roca no es nada nuevo y sobre todo construcciones colosales hechas en piedra como veremos en próximas publicaciones. - Espero que os haya gustado y espero vuestras opiniones y debates sobre el tema que nunca nos va a dejar de sorprender os deseo un feliz dia y una buena semana. - 日本の考古学者は新作を歓迎します。今回は海底に行き、1985年に発見されて以来、科学界で多くの論争を引き起こしている最大の考古学的遺跡の1つを見に行きます。琉球諸島。-遺跡は約1万年前のものですが、2つの説がありますか？科学者が最初に言うことは、それは自然なことだということです。二つ目は、それが人工的であるということです。これまでに写真やビデオに記録されたすべての資料は、正直なところ、私にはまったく自然に見えません。それらが人間の手によって明確に処理されている点があります。地表の外側のマウンドを想像すると、それは自然な形で地面の隆起に似ている可能��が高く、最も手付かずの状態である可能性が最も高いです。-また、当時の悪のレベルは現在の120分の1であったため、住民が聖地として利用することも珍しくありません。日本のロック作品は目新しいものではなく、特に将来の出版物で見られるように石で作られた巨大な構造です。-皆様のご愛顧を賜りますよう、よろしくお願い申し上げます。今後とも変わらぬご意見・ご感想をお待ちしております。 - Welcome japonistaarqueologos to a new installment, this time we go to the seabed to see one of the largest archaeological ruins that are generating many controversies in the scientific community since they were discovered in 1985. This structure is located in Okinawa, which is made up of the Ryukyu Islands. - The ruins are about 10,000 years old. Are there two theories? The first one that scientists say is: that it is natural. The second is that it is artificial. I have seen all the material recorded so far in photos and videos, to be honest, it does not seem natural at all to me. There are points that are clearly worked by the hand of man. If we imagine the mound off the surface, it most likely resembled in its natural form a rise in the ground and most likely it was in its most virgin state. - It should also be noted that the level of evil at that time was 120 times lower than today, so it would not be unusual for the inhabitants to use it as a sacred place. Since for the Japanese, rock work is nothing new and especially colossal constructions made of stone as we will see in future publications. - I hope you liked it and I look forward to your opinions and debates on the subject that will never cease to surprise us. I wish you a happy day and a good week.

[yeehawthethird]

Not only should you present it to the radio but you should also share with us pretty please 🫶🩷

Of course! Be warned it’s not that good lol

Science fiction has been a popular genre for quite some time and has always been a way to express relationships outside of what is considered “normal” by society. The genre imagines life differently from the real world in a scientific context. It, therefore, can express relationships and themes that mirror the real world but could not be expressed in a more realistic medium. Lab Rats is a kids’ science fiction show produced by Disney, airing from 2012 to 2016. The show follows Leo, whose mother has married a tech billionaire named Donald Davenport, who is working on a secret project of bionic siblings built to go on missions and save humans. These siblings are Adam, who has bionic strength; Bree, who has bionic speed; and Chase, who has bionically increased intelligence. Because these siblings have never seen the world before, Leo introduces them to high school and the world beyond; however, Adam, Bree, and Chase still have to hide their bionic secret and go on life-saving missions. After the bionic secret is discovered, a new army of bionic kids is discovered, with their leader, Krane, controlling them and intending to take over the world. After the kids are no longer under the control of Krane, they are blank slates, and Donald creates a bionic training academy island to train the kids to become bionic heroes like Adam, Bree, and Chase (Peterson). One of these kids is Sebastian, a character both incredibly similar and incredibly different than Chase. While the characters of Chase and Sebastian in the Disney TV show Lab Rats are not explicitly indicated to be in an LGBTQ+ relationship, the levels of friendship, manipulation, and betrayal found are indicative of a romantic relationship, despite the limitations found around LGBTQ+ relationships in the early 2010s.

The relationship between the characters Chase and Sebastian surpasses the typical level of platonic friendship found inside the show and instead implies a romantic relationship. At first, Sebastian is a member of Krane’s bionic army and is working to destroy Adam, Bree, and Chase. After he has become un-brainwashed, he is essentially a blank slate. At this point, the personalities that Chase and Sebastian have are incredibly similar, and so they begin to start conflicts with each other. Even though Sebastian rebels against Chase’s lessons by forming his own class an event leading to the sinking of the Bionic Island forces them to work together to save it (“First Day of Bionic Academy”).

After this, they begrudgingly accept each other's presence, and Sebastian becomes a regular character featured. Over these episodes, they become closer and closer until Sebastian trusts Chase enough to ask where the bionic students came from, and Chase starts with: “Well. I’m probably not supposed to say anything, but…” He tells the story about Victor, Krane, and the bionic army, ending with, “But, at least you’re safe now” (“Unauthorized Mission”). The language used here is important. If Chase were to say, “But, at least you all are safe now,” referring to all of the students, it would perhaps make more sense in the context of the story he is telling. However, he singles out Sebastian in particular, implying a strong sense of care. Particular language is not the only reason this interaction stands out. An important idea of Chase’s character is his intelligence. He is supposed to have advanced critical reasoning skills, as well as knowledge about many different topics. Surely, he would understand that revealing a large secret about the past of the students would have unforeseen consequences. These students are considered blank slates, and any deviation from what they already know could have disastrous implications for the person they become.

While the show does explore plots where Chase makes disastrous mistakes in spite of (or even because of) his intelligence, none of them have been this consequential. Plus, a large part of the early show was the bionic teens having to hide their bionic secret. Chase managed to not tell anyone for several years, and yet he is spilling secrets now that Sebastian is in the picture. This also happens in the spin-off, Lab Rats Elite Force, with a character named Reece in a very similar situation, except that dynamic is decidedly romantic. This could imply a romantic element to the relationship between Chase and Sebastian.

Meanwhile, in the next episode, Sebastian asks Chase to unlock him a new bionic ability, but Chase initially declines. After some convincing, he agrees, and Sebastian says that “We really are best friends.” Chase then replies, “Can you say that again? I wanna make it my ringtone” (“Bionic Rebellion Part One”). Chase is not usually described as a people-pleasing character. He considers himself intelligent, and he does not mind insulting other people in order to prove his intellectual superiority. This is particularly evident in some of Chase and Sebastian’s earlier interactions, yet it fades away here. In this dialogue, the feelings of a strong relationship between the two are emphasized by showing Chase’s strong desire to keep this relationship. He does not really do this with any other relationship we have seen him in so far, platonic or otherwise.

Also, there is a strong connotation behind wanting to change a ringtone to a particular person's voice, and more specifically, a clip of that person’s voice affirming their relationship. This is commonly seen in romantic relationships over platonic ones and certainly does imply that there is a romantic element involved. The specific usage of that trope carries the idea that these characters are possibly more than friends. However, the simple romantic subtext in their friendship is not the only reason that this interaction is significant, as there is also another layer, Sebastian's emotional manipulation of Chase.

Sebastian's emotional manipulation of Chase highly mirrors the real-life manipulation tactics used in romantic relationships. After Chase reveals the secret of where the bionic students come from, Sebastian believes that what they had to do (destroy their creator) was morally wrong. He decides to start a bionic rebellion against Adam, Bree, and Chase. One of the ways that he does this is by convincing Chase to give him a new bionic ability. When Chase initially refuses by saying, “No way. Only Mr. Davenport is allowed to do that. I could get into serious trouble.” Sebastian replies by saying, “You’re right. I shouldn’t have even asked. I just didn’t think it was such a big deal. I mean, I thought we were best friends” (“Bionic Rebellion Part One”). Sebastian clearly knows about Chase’s desire to preserve the relationship they have.

Although he does not have the same interest in preserving the relationship that Chase does, he recognizes its romantic connotations. His interest is to get more bionic abilities in order to kill Chase, and he preys on the perceived relationship in order to achieve his goals. While the manipulation is not explicitly tied to a romantic relationship, all too often, the guilt tripping found in their interactions is found in romantic relationships. Later in the day, when the security guard Terry Perry accuses Sebastian of stealing explosives, Chase immediately rushes to his defense by saying “No, he wouldn’t do that. He’s my best friend.” After a pause, he continues, “We talked about it. We’re official now” (“Bionic Rebellion Part One.”). Chase places a large amount of trust in Sebastian. He does not think to consider the fact that it may actually have been Sebastian at fault. Sebastian has manipulated him so far into believing that there are no ulterior motives found within their relationship. This is common in toxic relationships, where the person inside the relationship cannot notice how toxic it is.

Chase is often characterized in the show as someone who cannot enter a romantic relationship due to his nerdiness, as well as his perceived lack of social ability and attractiveness. He is most likely simply thrilled to be in a relationship of these sorts and is therefore looking past all of the red flags. Even though he was raised in a basement for most of his life, he is seen forming platonic relationships, and his behavior in these relationships differs drastically from his relationship with Sebastian. The use of “we’re official now” also insinuates a romantic relationship, as that statement is typically used to represent a romantic commitment. However, all of this manipulation does eventually lead to a sudden and harsh betrayal.

Although betrayal is not romantic in theory, Sebastian’s betrayal of Chase follows tropes commonly used in romantic fiction and is executed with the intensity of a relationship between lovers. After a while, Sebastian reveals his evil plans to Adam, Bree, and Chase. He mentions how correct he believes that Krane is, and Bree asks how Sebastian knew about Krane. Sebastian responds by saying, “Well, my buddy Chase told me all about him. He told me all sorts of things” (“Bionic Rebellion Part One”).

Here, the exact consequences of what Chase told Sebastian are seen. Romantic betrayal is a common trope found in television, and while it typically relates to situations such as cheating, it is no less potent here. The betrayal is intense and seemingly sudden, mirroring a romantic relationship and how quickly it can crash and burn. While this can occur with platonic relationships, as a trope, it is more often used romantically, especially in a situation this intense. The common belief that romantic relationships display more emotion than platonic ones bleeds into all areas of romantic media, including the emotions and intensity found.

In the series, the only betrayal considered of this same intensity is found between the characters of Bree and Troy, and that is a relationship with confirmed romantic feelings involved. This deep betrayal shakes Chase to his core, even in the following episodes. In the episode ‘One of Us’, the former lead bionic soldier of Krane’s shows up at the island and needs help. Chase is decidedly hostile to this person, comparing her to Sebastian when he says “Oh yeah? That’s what we thought about Sebastian, too. And we all know what happened there.” His brother Adam then responds to him: “We get it. He broke your heart. Let it go.” Chase eventually agrees to help the former soldier, and Adam decides to interject: “Okay, but when she crushes your heart like Sebastian, don’t come crying to me” (“One of Us”).

Usually, plots from previous episodes are not referenced in other episodes, particularly due to the show’s sitcom-like nature. Even episodes related to the central plot of the show are not usually mentioned except in other plot-related episodes. For this plot point to be mentioned implies that it had a strong effect on Chase, similar to the way a breakup would. There had previously been platonic betrayals, and they were not mentioned outside of the plot-related episodes, which shows that this relationship had a more profound effect than those platonic betrayals. As seen earlier, the specific connotations of dialogue help show that the relationship between Chase and Sebastian is more than platonic. “Breaks heart” is often attributed to a romantic relationship and is typically unused in a platonic context. Not only is it typically only used in a romantic context, but it is also used in a romantic context where there was some sort of profound betrayal, such as seen with Chase and Sebastian. When Adam uses that language, he is illustrating the knowledge that the dynamic was coded as romantic, even though it obviously could not be shown that way.

All of the subtexts in their relationship had to stay discrete due to the limitations upon kids' media in the 2010s. In this era, LGBTQ+ content in kids' media was far from welcome, especially with claims that such media would indoctrinate children. Therefore, even though this relationship could have been intended to be romantic, it would not have been able to be shown that way. Today, kids' media on Disney, such as The Owl House, has broadened the horizons of LGBTQ+ topics in media for children. In shows such as these, LGBTQ+ relationships are out in the open, without any need for euphemisms or subtext. Pride flags are allowed to be shown, and same-sex relationships are almost normalized. However, there is still a lot of pushback. Even now, not everyone is ok with LGBTQ+ media being shown. Although it is not all the way normalized now, it was not at all normalized in the 2010s when Lab Rats was airing. In this era, however, queer relationships would have been limited to only being subtext. When Adam specifically conceptualizes the relationship in a romantic context, he implies that a romantic relationship between Chase and Sebastian was what was planned all along. The betrayal between Sebastian and Chase, as well as the aftermath, was simply one of the reasons that this relationship was romantic instead of platonic.

Even though there was an inability to explicitly portray the relationship between Chase and Sebastian in the Disney Channel TV show Lab Rats as romantic due to the beliefs around LGBTQ+ representation in media, particularly for children, there were levels of intimacy, emotional manipulation, and eventual betrayal that indicated a romantic relationship between the two. Clues to a romantic relationship such as these could be considered by a large majority of the public to be a coincidence, but for the LGBTQ+ community, they stay in line with the common pattern of media being unable to express outwardly queer relationships. Representation of queer couples is not considered a norm in modern media, and it would have been next to impossible to find when the show was released, especially in media made for children. At first glance, this may seem like a simple ex-bionic soldier befriending and eventually betraying his bionic mentor, but underneath the surface, a touching story on queer relationships and betrayal comes to light.

Works Cited

Distad, Guy, director. “Bionic Rebellion Part One.” Lab Rats, created by Chris Peterson and Bryan Moore, season 4, episode 1, 18 March 2015. Disney+.

Distad, Guy, director. “First Day of Bionic Academy.” Lab Rats, created by Chris Peterson and Bryan Moore, season 3, episode 24, 3 February 2015. Disney+.

Distad, Guy, director. “One of Us.” Lab Rats, created by Chris Peterson and Bryan Moore, season 4, episode 15, It's a Laugh Productions, 12 August 2015. Disney+.

Peterson, Chris, and Bryan Moore, creators. Lab Rats. 2012. It's a Laugh Productions, 2016. Disney+.

[itstimewehavesomesoliddick]

Yeah, I guess fuck the uk right?

Good luck surviving at school tomorrow. 😅🖕

This is the angloid's brain after centuries of inbreeding and un-nutritious food, it immediately regresses to the primitive reptilian brain patterns reminding us that as closely related to us as they may appear, they are still many evolutionary steps away from the modern hominid, or else they would have discovered basic civilizational necessities such as rudimentary use of spices, preparation and consumption of vegetables, basic dentistry, refraining from wanton bloodlust when your local football club loses 5-0, and most of all, not immediately assuming that whenever someone (rightfully) spits at your existence for being an affront to God and all that is good, that they are from the wretched colonies spawned from your very own murky anglo genepool.

Truly, the day England sinks will be the day the world breathes a sigh of relief from finally not having to share a planet with the embarrassing genetic, cultural and civilizational dead-end that you are. I would wish you good day, but no day spent on that island is good, a penance befitting backwards troglodytes such as yourselves, so I wish you a pie and mash shortage and doctor who cancelation, die.

[riorosa]

Imagina que despues de dos semanas salen del purgatorio, viste a pocos amigos regresar de este junto contigo en un bote, descubres que tus hijos estan en el hospital (Mas tarde se levantan y estan bien) ves llegar gente poco a poco a la isla pero nunca vez a tu marido llegar, ¿que le habrá pasado?, ¿habra podido salir?, esta muerto!.

Después de un tiempo te das cuenta que a estado durmiendo debajo del subsuelo de tu casa, viendo como el mismo regreso y no se aprecia lo suficiente para regresar con ustedes su familia arriba, tu siempre le dijiste le decias que no se menos preciara, nada de esa mierda. Solo quieres que suba y este con ustedes de nuevo. Por que sabe que entre ustedes se necesitan.

Despues de mas dias sin saber de el te despiertas y hay una cama de mas al lado tuyo donde debia ser un lugar seguro como para ti como para tus hijos.

Resulta que tu marido regreso despues de no saber desde esa ultima vez que lo vio en el purgatorio. Tu hijo lo trajo a este lugar seguro para la familia y solo para la familia.

Esta claro que se siente emocionado.

_____________________________

Imagine that after two weeks you leave purgatory, you saw a few friends return from purgatory with you on a boat, you discover that your children are in the hospital (Later they get up and are fine) you see people arriving little by little to the island but You never see your husband arrive. What happened to him? Could he have gotten out? He's dead!

After a while you realize that he has been sleeping under the basement of your house, watching him come back and he doesn't appreciate himself enough to return with you, his family upstairs, you always told him, you told him not to value himself less, nothing. of that shit. You just want me to come up and be with you again. Because he knows that you need each other.

After more days without hearing from him, you wake up and there is an extra bed next to you where it should be a safe place for both you and your children.

It turns out that your husband returned after not knowing since that last time he saw him in purgatory. Your son brought him to this safe place for family and family only.

He's clear that he feels excited.

Sigo sin superar el comportamiento de pajaro de philza xdd

[themostefficientwaywithwater]

I think the main reason WW's Ganondorf is so different from the others it's because he has learned that his battle against the Goddesses is not a matter of everyone against him/the gerudo but rather a everyone against the gods.

Besides Demise's curse, Ganondorf has always been flooded by his wish of revenge: revenge against the hylians who marginalized his people, revenge again the hero who slayed him, revenge against anyone who opposed him. He doesn't fight for a just cause because he believes the world is unjust and the only way of surviving is by being unjust in return.

But in the Adult Timeline, after the events of OoT and breaking his seal, he discovers an awful truth: it's not that the world is unfair, the Goddesses are. Just to seal him again, they flood the whole kingdom they were supposed to protect, killing most of the hylians population and condemning a few selected survivors to struggle in tiny islands isolated from the rest by a huge sea warren of fishes but filled with dangerous monsters. Even the other races had to undergo drastic changes in their bodies to survive un the aftermath of the flood. That's when Ganondorf understood that the Goddesses weren't just unfair: they were uncaring, and willing to sacrifice anything to torment anyone who wronged them.

I think this is why Ganondorf, even thought some of his actions are still deplorable (launching Link to drown at the sea, kidnapping girls, allegedly destroying a village...), we see that he's less willing to actively hurt people (in the final battle, he has TWO clear opportunities to kill Link and Tetra, and in both times he just incapacitates them, and besides whatever happened in Windfish island we never see him sending his monsters to attack people, just kidnapp a few of them). In fact, he's motivanted by a more "noble" cause: to bring Hyrule, or better said, his idyllic version of it, back from the seafloor. This could be because he has stopped seeing hylians as the "other", and has started to consider them as being from the same band, just a bunch of mortals trying to survive the whims of the gods, who play with them as if they were mere chesspieces.

So, in a sense, Ganondorf is not really much different from its other incarnations. He's still full of hatred and rancor, but It has been redirected. Not against the royal family, who exiled his people to the deserts. Not against the hylians, who lived si much better than them and even had the gall to call them thieves when they were just trying to survive. Not against the hero and the princess who defeated and sealed him when he tried to reclaim what he thought he deserved.

It's the Goddesses.

The Goddesses that drowned their people to "protect" them from him.

The Goddesses that decided it was okay to let two children fight against him as their champions. Forever.

The Goddesses that decided he is the one and only Big Bad Guy of the story when they have commited more atrocities than him, both by action and inaction.

[rjalker]

If you want to have a magical loss continent that nobody has ever discovered or at least has never discovered and then been able to tell anybody else about because they can't leave, you have to have some sort of physical real barrier as well I can't just be oh it has stuff that messes with GPS or blocks satellite imaging or something. GPS is new, they didn't have that way back when. People have been sailing on the ocean for forever. And they didn't have GPS or satellites. Un bless the island is somehow brand new, you also need to take into account the fact that people in regular sailing vessels also need to be able to not find it. And it can't just be because they're non-existent GPS stops working because it doesn't work if they don't have GPS to begin with.

[the-queen-and-the-king]

Gratin dauphinois

Summary: Emily and Aaron are cooking together a French meal and Aaron is quite a disruptive student. This is an appendix to Seven days only, but the only thing you need to know is that Aaron spent a week with Emily when she was under witness protection.

Characters: Aaron Hotchner x Emily Prentiss

Contents: smut, oral sex (f receiving) and cooking NSFW/MINORS DNI

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

“Well, come on, it's time to cook,” she said, slapping her neighbor's thigh with the flat of her hand.

“What? Again?” wondered the latter, frowning.

“Aaron, the last meal we had was breakfast, and that was over five hours ago.”

The BAU director watched Emily as she stood next to the sofa they'd been laying on a second earlier. She was wearing one of his shirts, loosely buttoned, and her pajama shorts. Nothing more. He wanted to say something back, but the light streaming through the windows made the white fabric transparent enough for him to see her breasts. His lover caught his absent gaze, lowered her nose and rolled her eyes. They had stayed in bed until late in the morning – for them, used to taking off at the crack of dawn – before enjoying a few slices of toast over a cup of coffee, chatting and playing footsie with each other under the table. Then, as they talked – they'd had so much to say in all the time they'd been circling around – they moved to the sofa and, curled up against each other, extended their confidences. The sun had continued its course without bothering them and the afternoon was here. And she was hungry.

“Stop drooling and come help me,” she ordered, her fists on her hips.

“What do you have planned?” he asked, getting to his feet in turn.

“Un gratin dauphinois,” the young woman announced with a certain pride.

She saw her partner's eyes sparkle and knew that his thoughts had drifted away from her culinary preoccupations. For some reason, he loved hearing her speak a language other than English, even if he couldn't understand it. For him, unfamiliar words, pronounced with a particular intonation, aroused both admiration and excitement. This woman's intelligence impressed him as much as it attracted him, and he moved closer to her to take her in his arms. However, the female profiler easily guessed his intentions and clamped her hand over his face to prevent him from going any further. Her stomach was screaming, and there was no way she was going to be distracted by this man and his terribly sexy smile.

“In the kitchen, sir.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, hilarious.

She led the way and he followed in her footsteps, not hesitating to take advantage of the bird's-eye view of her perfectly bare legs and the relief he glimpsed behind her wrinkled shirt.

“Stop staring at my ass and put on an apron,” she advised, throwing the fabric at him unexpectedly.

She held back a laugh when she saw him vainly trying to catch the projectile he hadn't seen coming. Eventually, he picked it up off the floor and, after sticking out his tongue, threaded it around his neck. She did the same for her part and headed for the island, where some of the ingredients were already on hand. She didn't need the recipe; it had been engraved in her brain for years, so many times had she made it over and over again.

“So, Chief, what do you want from me?” he inquired, standing tall beside her.

Years ago, its large size had given her a few cold sweats – that was before she discovered the teddy bear hiding behind those perpetually furrowed brows – but now she found it reassuring and soothing. His broad shoulders were also a call to desire. She'd already clutched them a number of times since the start of the week, and so far they hadn't failed her. From the sneer that tugged at the corners of his lips, Emily knew she'd been silent too long, and her opposite was beginning to suspect something about the content of her thoughts.

“… Peel me those three, thirty pounds of potatoes while I get to work on the garlic cloves.”

She placed before his eyes a dusty bag filled with tubers she'd bought from the village greengrocer next door. He glanced inside and, spotting the patches of grayish soil stuck to the vegetable skins, knew he was in for a thorough clean-up before tackling the task she'd given him. He lifted the bag and took advantage of the fact that it was passing behind her back on the way to the sink to brush the curves of her thighs. She immediately tensed, widening her eyelids and opening her mouth to protest. Her recriminations were nevertheless lost at the back of her throat when her pupils fell on his assailant's buttocks, molded in his pale blue boxer shorts. Upstairs, he wore a simple, ideally-fitted t-shirt. Her fingers tingled as she imagined slipping them underneath to caress his back before, perhaps, venturing to the frontline and sneaking up to that end that had brought her so much satisfaction since Monday.

“What are you going to do with the garlic cloves?” he questioned as he opened the water, oblivious to the effect he was having on her.

“I'll slice the first and use the other for the platter.”

“The platter? He repeated, raising an eyebrow in her direction. What do you mean?”

“You’ll see.”

She pretended to snub him before cutting the peeled garlic into small pieces. She skinned the second and placed it aside on the marble. Aaron continued his work, washing generously the potatoes. She leaned next to him to make sure he wasn't needlessly wasting precious liquid, and her irises locked onto his hands. They rubbed the slightly granular skin with a delicacy that made her almost jealous. A feeling made all the more idiotic by the fact that she'd had their undivided attention last night, the day before, the evening before and so on since he'd burst in on her doorstep.

“Are you making sure I'm not messing around?” He was being ironic with a provocative expression.

Although he made a point of never profiling those closest to him, he didn't need to think too hard to know what was going through his neighbor's head. She longed for him, just as he longed for her. The question was whether he'd be able to get her off the rails before the end of this recipe. It was an interesting challenge that he was immediately up to.

“I'm just making sure you're not drowning them,” she retorted in her most confident tone.

She then moved away towards the fridge, putting a hand on his bottom as she went. The metal door hid her mutinous smile and flushed cheeks from her partner's inquisitive gaze. She retrieved the jar of fresh cream, the carton of milk and the tub of butter, all from a local cooperative. Using scales and a measuring cup, she weighed seven oz of cream into a large bowl and measured out a little less than a quart and a half of milk. Then she turned to her cupboards in search of her stewpot. She discovered it in its usual place, on the highest shelf. Normally, she'd climb onto a chair to retrieve it, but she had another option this time.

“Aaron, can you grab that for me up there? Please,” she added, sounding pleading.

He abandoned his ablutions to see what she was talking about, and then looked down at her.

“What do I get out of it?”

“The right to eat.”

He leaned towards her, framing her body with his arms without touching her, his fingers resting on the edges of the work surface. Barely a centimeter separated them, and a tiny impulse from either would be enough for their lips to collide.

“Try again,” he whispered in her ear, as his spicy scent invaded her nostrils and his warmth radiated down to her skin.

The giant possessed the strangeness of not being sensitive to hunger, thirst or sleep. In fact, the prospect of being deprived of a meal didn't work on him. On the other hand, he was not indifferent to other needs, and his hostess's close proximity aroused pleasant sensations in him.

“What if I told you that the sooner we finish this recipe, the sooner we can move on to... dessert,” she offered, shamelessly palming the negotiator's asses.

He smiled, brought his mouth close to hers to kiss her and moved away at the last moment to turn around and bring her back what she'd asked for. They wrinkled their eyelids in unison as they faced each other again, issuing a mute challenge to the other in this erotic showdown.

“Why don't you peel it all off instead of acting like an idiot, she resumed, trying to control the quivering in her voice. Without peeling your fingers, patate!”

Over the previous few days, he'd shown her how clumsy he was with kitchen utensils, and she had no desire to go to the emergency room.

“What?” he croaked, bewildered.

“I said: patate.”

“What does that mean?” he logically questioned her, forgetting all about his mission.

She walked in his direction to reach the condiment shelf, with an unnatural swaying step.

“It's a cute insult for someone who's a bit stupid, she explained, grabbing the grated nutmeg. And it’s also the other name of the potato.”

She then retraced her steps to place her loot next to the whole garlic, and crouched down to remove her largest rectangular platter from a drawer. When she straightened up, he was right next to her, and he had that bratty look that sometimes peeled back the layers of his customary stoicism. She'd discovered his rebellious past two days before, and it seemed to be still there, buried beneath his suit and his good manners. And she'd be lying if she said she was insensitive to it.

“Patate,” he said, trapping her again against the worktop.

A shiver ran through her belly. She'd never heard him speak anything but English, and the way his deep voice had softened even more as he switched to French gave her a warm flush.

“Is that how they say it?”

“… Y… yes,” she confirmed, swallowing.

He was very close and she was sure he could see her cheeks flush in spite of herself.

“You know any other insults like that?”

“Oh, yes! She assured him, regaining her composure. The French have a rich vocabulary for this.”

“Like what?”

“Like, go take care of the potatoes, we've got work to do next.”

He smiled and slipped his hands into the small of her back to pull her closer to him. She instinctively placed her palms on his pectorals to curb his ardor, although a certain part of her anatomy didn't mind shortening the distance between them even more.

“Pourquoi?” [why?]

Aaron would have liked to extend this attempt to speak Molière’s language, but his skills in this domain were not up to scratch. Fortunately for him, the woman he loved had an astonishing perceptiveness, which was nevertheless shaken by surprise. She had clearly not expected to hear him express himself in this way and, given the acceleration of her heartbeat – which he could feel beneath his fingers – was enjoying the discovery.

“Je appris quelques mots, [I learn a few words]” he continued, smiling knowingly.

“I… I can see that,” she stammered, as excited as ever.

“Tu es très belle. [You’re very beautiful]”

With her face ablaze, she narrowly avoided jumping at his neck, wrapping her legs around his hips and begging him to take her right away between the cutting board and the potholders. She did, however, allow herself a hors d'oeuvre, kissing him for a long time. Then she pushed him away as he began to harden against her belly.

“Potatoes, Dom Juan.”

“Yes, sir!” he responded with a slightly disrespectful military salute.

So that this step, surely the longest in the recipe, didn't drag on beyond reason – it was already nearly two o'clock – she helped him by taking half the tubers in her charge. She noticed that he wasn't particularly comfortable with this task, which required so much precision. This might seem strange for a guy who was a sniper, but he'd explained to her that he'd had to train enormously and that, on top of it, most of a sniper's work was, in fact, intellectual: finding the best vantage point, making calculations based on shooting conditions, and so on. Cooking, on the other hand, demanded a meticulousness that he lacked. Even then, he told her that the worst was his propensity for hyper fixation, which plunged him into trances where the sound of the timer failed to reach him. At home, when he was sinking, it was Jack who came to shake him out of it. Here, Emily would be the one paying attention to this part of the operation. Yes, her guy had some flaws, but she couldn't care less. He was tall, handsome, thoughtful, cultured and clever, and she didn't dare think about his last quality. Not now.

“Your mother never taught you how to cook?” She asked, curious.

She had met Ada Hotchner on a few occasions – never positive – and had once had the opportunity to taste one of her dishes. She had enjoyed herself.

“Sure. Until my father told her it was pointless, because I'd have a woman to do it for me.”

“Charming... “ she hissed, relieved to know she wouldn't have to deal with a man like that and that his offspring had nothing to do with him.

“At the same time, he wasn't entirely wrong.”

She stiffened, stung by this retort.

“If I hadn't met Haley before starting my studies, I'd probably have died of starvation in my student apartment.”

He'd said it in a bantering tone, but she suspected he really meant it. Moreover, the mention of his ex-wife momentarily froze his smile. She had to find a way to revive the frivolous atmosphere that had suddenly become tarnished.

“You're doing pretty well, though,” she affirmed, giving him a swat on the buttocks since she couldn't use her starch-stained hands.

“Don't be too quick to claim victory; I've still got three patates left.”

She smiled when she heard him repeat the word, and blushed when he placed a kiss on the corner of her lips to thank her. She added clairvoyant, funny and affectionate to his list of qualities. And pessimistic to a fault, as the stage ended without a visit to the medicine cabinet.

“What should we do next?”

“Then, when the time comes, we put the stewpot on the heat with the cream and milk to bring the mixture to boil.”

“I hope you're not counting on me to keep it from overflowing,” he emphasized, aware of the risks involved in that cooking.

“Don’t worry. With the cream, the risk of it spilling over is practically nil,” she reassured him; glad to be able to teach him a thing or two.

He was older than her and, like their youngest colleague, possessed dizzying knowledge. But, unlike the same agent, he dispensed them with touching parsimony. Her lover dodged the limelight with all his might and was always very embarrassed to be the center of attention outside the professional context. But he had a wealth of wisdom and she'd already enjoyed it many times in the course of a conversation that was all in all harmless. Occupying this position in turn pleased her greatly, especially as he didn't mind in the least. The adage that you're never too old to learn fitted him like a glove.

“What’s the point of all this?”

“Once it starts to boil, we pour in the thinly sliced potatoes and leave them to cook for ten minutes.”

“Why?” he frowned, intrigued.

“So that they melt in your mouth after baking.”

It was the essential step in this recipe that made this gratin exquisite. However, this required slicing the main ingredient of the dish.

“And how do you plan to do that?”

“Thanks to... - she opened another drawer and grabbed her work tool - ... this!”

Aaron looked at the metal plate with a slanted blade at its center and raised an eyebrow.

“It's a mandolin, she revealed, repressing her urge to add a second cute insult to her reply. Very handy for making chips, by the way.”

She handed him the utensil – which he took with some caution – then brought over a glass bowl for him to drop his sliced potatoes into. As she saw him become statuesque in the presence of these two objects, she took them from him at the same time as she grabbed one of the tubers.

“I really have to show you everything,” she grumbled, falsely annoyed.

“Admit that it's far from displeasing you,” he whispered to her pavilion as he pressed himself against her.

His fingers slid down her arm, barely touching her skin. All her hair stood at attention on the spot and she naturally tilted her head when his lips landed on the nape of her neck. With her eyes closed, she nibbled her lower lip, the fire lit in her insides fanned by this contact. But they still had some work to do before they had any free time, so she shrugged her shoulder to encourage him to step aside.

“Now that you've got it all figured out, do it yourself.”

She put the mandolin back in his hand, escaped his embrace and approached the gas stove. The fire was still out under the pot, but she preferred to wait until her impromptu clerk had cut at least half the potatoes, as the milk and cream would come to the boil very quickly. In the meantime, she rubbed the platter with the whole garlic clove, and then lined the sides and bottom with a thin film of butter to prevent the mixture from sticking. To do this, she had to position herself near the island, opposite her apprentice. Regularly, with the same mutinous smile, their pupils had come to rest on each other, fleeing as soon as their adversary did the same. A slightly childish ploy, but one that served its purpose. Gradually, the excitement spread between the two opponents, and Emily took advantage of her partner's good progress to leave the arena and ignite the gas under the stewpot. Silence had fallen between them, a very appreciable tension reigning over their heads, and she could feel her guest's gaze upon her. He ogled her shamelessly and she delighted in being the center of his attention.

“That's it; I've finished "mandolining" the potatoes.”

“Already?” she gasped, turning around.

“Why so surprised? He replied with a smile. When I want to, I can go very fast.”

She was convinced that his sentence contained a hidden meaning, but simply nodded with interest before returning to the milky mixture, which emitted a distinctive sound. She salted a little, made several turns of the pepper mill, then reached out to the island to retrieve the last condiment. But her fingers met the void.

“Is that what you need?”

She turned her gaze to the man in the room, who was waving the nutmeg bottle with a smirk on his face. She went up to him.

“Give it to me.”

“I didn’t hear the magic word.”

“Aaron…”

“No, it’s not that.”

He could see her irises darkening rapidly. He imagined that the timing of the recipe was tight on this part, and her natural rigor would not accept failure. But he wanted her to come even closer to him. To feel her smell, her warmth, her skin against his. She was so beautiful, and he'd wanted her for so long, that it was hard for him to stay away from her. He'd dreamed so much of embracing her, that now that their feelings for each other had been revealed, he wanted nothing more. Her body was so desirable that he loved to lose himself in it, even though he'd already explored more of it than he'd ever hoped to.

“Please! It’s going to be overcooked!”

She tried to grab his hostage from his left hand, but he passed it to his right. She threw herself on the other side, and he passed it on his back. She tried to encircle him, but he raised his arms far above his head.

“Give it to me!” she snapped, as annoyed as he was amused.

“It's a win-win situation.”

She rolled her eyes when she realized what his objective was. She placed her lips on his for a few moments, gradually allowing herself to be drawn in despite herself by the taste of her lover. Then something landed on the top of her skull and the nutmeg fell in front of her nose as she stepped back. She had just the right reflex to catch it before it hit the ground. His partner seemed particularly pleased with his little trick.

“You don't deserve it,” she grumbled, pouring a little bit of powder into the cream.

“You shouldn't say things like that, you might regret it.”

“Really?” she asked, stirring the mixture with a wooden spoon.

Aaron's warm hand suddenly slipped between her thighs and pressed where it needed to, sending a wave of pleasure up her entire torso. Eyes closed, mouth ajar, she exhaled a trickle of shuddering air that betrayed her state of arousal. Her companion's torso was glued to her back, and it was obvious that he was not to be outdone. His other hand reached under her shirt to caress her breast, while his mouth lingered at the nape of her neck. Then, as quickly as he'd appeared, he moved away from her, abandoning her to her palpitations. Desire pulsing in her lower belly, she took a few discreet breaths before facing him.

“Could you... pass me the potatoes? …Please.”

This time, he didn't negotiate, delighted to see her so unsettled. Although caught off guard, she'd liked what he'd done, and her inability to meet his gaze now spoke volumes about how she felt. She wanted more. Which was just as well, since so was he.

“Now that I've put the potatoes in, we turn the heat down to medium and let it cook,” she recited with a few tremors in her voice.

“Ten minutes, right?”

“That's right,” she added, putting on a brave face without leaving the stove.

“That gives us a bit of time,” he remarked, leaning against the island.

“Time for what?”

“You’ll see…”

Folding his index finger a few times, he encouraged her to come closer. She took the three steps that separated them and fell into his arms. They kissed energetically, consumed by their own thirst for each other. Emily soon found herself pressed up against the worktop again, a fact to which she soon paid no further attention. His partner had removed her apron, undone the two buttons on her shirt and, groping and kissing her bare chest, stoked the blaze that roared between her loins. His lips left the hills, however, and descended into the valley between. They then spread to her belly, navel and shorts. She flinched as the explorer's phalanges took hold of the garment's elastic band and pulled it towards her ankles. He kissed her clitoris – once, twice, three times – before administering the same treatment to her vulva. The young woman clutched the furniture's edges in search of a second wind. But it was a squeak she couldn't hold back when the giant's tongue invited itself between her thighs. He lapped up the nectar slowly, groping in the hollows, crisscrossing her ridges and wrapping himself around her bud, before setting off again in the opposite direction.

                His victim's legs were filled with spasms and she felt them give way as the pleasure overtook her. Her torturer must have realized this as he lifted her off the ground and laid her horizontally, without really ceasing his lingual offensives. More at ease, he shifted into high gear, thrusting his appendage between her intimate lips while sucking on her erectile bud at regular intervals. The profiler clung to her benefactor's thick hair, ordering him to continue lavishing her with this kind of attention. Her heart was pounding at her temples, her breathing was getting shorter, her body temperature was peaking and, above all, orgasm was near. Very near. Out of breath, she asked for one more effort on his part, and he granted her request. Her back arched and her eyes bulged as ecstasy surged through her veins. Her thighs twitched, her mouth opened, her grip closed on that brown hair; and then she relaxed, exhaled a sigh of contentment and released her lover. The timer stridulated with a series of urgent beeps.

“That's what you call having a perfect sense of timing,” Aaron gargled as he helped her rest her feet on the ground.

She slapped him on the forehead, put on her shorts and stopped the timer.

“Pass me the platter, please, she ordered, pretending nothing had happened. And a skimmer too. It’s the…”

“I know what a skimmer is,” he interrupted, handing her exactly what she wanted.

Catching her due, her pupils lingered on the obvious dent that created a relief on her guest's apron. Their eyes then met and she placed the baked potatoes in the casserole dish. Before ending up lying on the island, she had turned on the oven to thermostat seven. The preheating light was still active. She took advantage of this delay to reduce the milk-cream mixture a little. Her partner opted to place a few kisses on her neck, nape, shoulder blade and shoulder. He had a hard-on behind her back, but wasn't necessarily trying to let her know – he maintained a certain distance between them, his hands only grazing her hips and belly. When the diode went out, she turned off the heat under the stewpot, poured the mixture into the platter – dividing it as evenly as possible between the slices – then put it in the oven.

“How long will it take?” he asked in a hoarse voice.

“Thirty minutes,” she revealed, adjusting the time.

“I’m fine with that.”

He immediately put his arms around her, carrying her to the bedroom whose door had been left open. Finally on the mattress, they kissed passionately, undressed with haste, caressed each other generously and merged with delight. The titan breathed a sigh of relief but held his ground. He was where he wanted to be, but didn't forget that he had certain duties towards his hostess. He began to move in and out of her with measured slowness, so that she wouldn't lose a crumb of the experience and he wouldn't flinch too soon. He also extended his movements as far as possible, without ever quite leaving her privacy. An unprecedented protocol that propelled Emily to the brink of apotheosis very quickly; intrusions and retreats accompanied by a series of delicious explosions vibrating her body.

                Up until now, they'd tended to follow the usual pace of this kind of lovemaking – their hunger for each other sometimes driving them into frenzied, brief but intense acts – but this change of pace wasn't unpleasant, far from it. Dripping with sweat, her insides fizzing with sparks, she asked him to come back to her, to drill deep into her sex, on the spot. He complied and plunged into its narrowness up to the guard. She came. She came to the point of losing her voice, her hearing and her sense of space and time. She came so powerfully that she forgot until the day what it was. She came to the point of almost convulsive shaking. She also came when he died inside her with a rattle of satisfaction that tickled her ears.

                They embraced, brushed against each other, kissed and then agreed to separate, but not without maintaining contact with their partner's skin. Lying on their backs, they stared at the ceiling, smiling beatifically. The ringing of the oven's bell jolted them out of this suspended moment and, partially dressed, they returned to the kitchen. Without saying a word, Aaron took charge of fetching plates, cutlery and glasses, while she took out the dish to let it rest for ten minutes. When the time was up, they sat down on the sofa to enjoy their three o'clock lunch, their taste buds savoring the soft, slightly sweet notes.

“Do you like it?” she worried as she watched him chew slowly.

“Delicious. We can do it again.”

“With or without the extras?” she simpered, nudging him with her foot.

He smiled, leaned over to kiss her and replied:

“Both.”

___

Ok, I had this silly idea to write a smut fic including a real recipe. So, if you follow all the steps right, you can cook a real gratin dauphinois. :D

And for people who are not fluent with the UK/GB measures (and because I'm not sure about the conversion), here is the list of ingredients:

1,2 kg of potatoes

1/2 l of cream

1/2 l of milk

and a oven at 220°C

Have fun! ^^

[dannystheone]

for some reason i cant see what im tying LMAO so apologies for any typos 😖 ANYWAY i love your fics sm ur so talented!! i was wondering if i could req a creek fic, maybe w tweek trying to work up the courage to tickle craig back since he keeps getting got. thanks! :) (this is literally a black screen for me idek what ive written lmao)

No you're good I hear you loud and clear! And thank you for the compliment! I love an excuse to write more precious boys :)) I hope you don't mind that I turned this into an Imp!Tweek and Pastor!Craig fic, I tried toying around with other ideas for the boys but this was really interesting to me.

ALSO THIS IS MY 30TH FICTION ON THIS WEBSITE I GOT TO WRITE FOR YOU GUYS!!

One Movie At A Time? (Lee Pastor!Craig/ Ler Imp!Tweek)

WARNINGS: Kids swearing! And kind of a long intro sorry teehee

Imp Tweek discovers what tickling is for the first time and Pastor Craig is his (un)fortunate victim!

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"Thanks, Father Maxi. I'll see you next Sunday, then." A young apprentice to the pastor of a local church exited an ornate office. Craig closed the wooden door behind him and shuffled along the cheap carpet of the hallway. Cables and printers lined the wall as he entered the nave and felt the chill of the empty church. The dust filled his nose as he walked up the steps to the altar.

The day was winding down, the golden glow of the evening shone through the stained glass windows. Patterns reflected off Craig's face as he knelt before the altar and mumbled a quick prayer. A certain character in his life he's been keeping quiet about was in his mind as he turned around and walked down the aisle of the church.

"Sardines...chocolate milk...ice cream...coffee...and shampoo. Why is he eating the shampoo again-" Craig read through the grocery list that was sent to him by his 'roommate' as he left the church and walked outside. How a pastor in training became roommate to a spawn of the devil was unbeknownst to him. Was it some sort of cosmic work of irony? At this point, it might as well be.

Craig had summoned an imp who he nicknamed 'Tweek' due to the imp taking the body of an anxious local boy in town for his host. Craig had never met the boy before he had the imp in his body, but his consciousness didn't weigh on him too much because of it. The imp himself was mischievous and cunning, while the personality of the boy still shone through. So Pastor Craig has an anxious ball of nerves experiencing the world for the first time on his hands while still dealing with school and pastor apprenticeship. He was lucky if he got three hours of sleep a night.

Craig walked through his front door and removed the clerical collar around his neck. "Tweek, Tweek I'm home! Come get the groceries." Craig called out. Craig heard feet pounding on his wooden floorboards and turned around to see the imp behind him.

The imp had taken the boy's form, with his golden mess of hair and ocean-blue eyes. He had kept his devilish horns and long red tail, however. That was always fun to conceal while in public and not a chore at all.

"GAH! Craig! I-I thought you were intruders! You can't do that to me, man! I just watched this movie called 'The Strangers' and they come in your home and kidnap you! GAHAH! I can't be kidnapped, I can't be!!" Are you sure you're an imp from hell... Craig wanted to ask. But he kept his mouth shut and walked into the kitchen with the grocery bags; Tweek following close behind.

"Don't worry Tweek, that was a movie. It's not for real. Here, I got the stuff you asked for. Do not eat the shampoo again." Craig passed over a grocery bag to Tweek across the kitchen island. Tweek hopped up on a stool, his tail waving slowly at the thought of fake movies. He winked in thought.

"B-But at the beginning of the movie, it read 'Based on true events'! ERK! What if something happens to us, and Hollywood makes a movie of us? Which actor will play me? They won't get my hair right! That is WAY too much pressure!!" Tweek's tail curled up as he hugged his can of sardines. Craig huffed as he turned around to place groceries in the cabinets.

"I can assure you Tweek, you're the least exciting thing to happen to this town. A movie will be made about an alien invasion, or mecha Barbra Streisand, or that imaginary characters exist-" Tweek started hiding his face and pulling at his hair.

"GAH! Those are things that happen in this town?! Why is it so chaotic?! Even Hell was more organized than this!" Tweek pulled on his horns while Craig leaned against the kitchen island.

"Well, sometimes those things happen. But mostly it's just a small town in snowy mountains. People live their daily lives here and make something of themselves. They have kids and buy houses and go to school, just like normal." Craig shrugged as Tweek started to calm down a little.

"Oh...alright. Urgh...I still have a lot to learn. I didn't think above-ground would be so confusing!" Tweek winked out of anxiety as he followed Craig into the living room to watch TV. Craig plopped on the couch and put his feet up after a long day. Tweek silently sat next to him, his tail waving in the air.

"Well, you're getting the hang of it. The remote control, anyway. How do I put parental supervision on this thing-" Craig messed around with the buttons on the remote as he switched the channel by accident. He looked up to the TV and just as quickly set his gaze back down to the remote, while Tweek continued to watch. Two cartoon characters were in the middle of a field rolling on top of each other. Were they rolling? Or fighting? It didn't look like either. Tweek winked at the TV and pulled on his shirt.

"Hey...hey Craig?" Tweek looked to Craig. Craig jerked his chin up in Tweek's direction while still fiddling with the remote. "Uh- urgh- what are they doing on the TV?" Tweek pointed to the characters on screen.

"Oh crap, did I change it to Cinemax on accident-" Craig was expecting to see something inappropriate on screen, but it was just two characters tickling each other. "Oh, they're just playing."

"It-It doesn't look like playing!" Tweek pulled on his shirt as he watched one character scribble his fingers all over his friend's tummy. The other character laughed in an animated fashion. It wasn't anything Tweek had ever seen before since he's been above ground. Craig quirked his lip as he sunk deeper in the couch to fiddle with the remote.

"Yeah, they're playing. They're tickling each other. It's a kid's game." Craig yawned and kept messing with the damn remote while Tweek was still curious.

"T-Tickling? What's that? Urgh- How do you play?" Craig's cheeks blushed a bit as he threw the remote to the side. He couldn't figure out where to find parental controls on the damn thing.

"Uh...there's not really any rules to it Tweek, you just kinda play, I guess." Ugh, this was on par with the birds and the bees talk they had last week in terms of embarrassment. "Humans are sensitive if you touch them a certain way in a certain place, 'cause of our nervous systems. Some people are really sensitive or not sensitive at all. Our bodies are different from each other. People tickle other people to see them laugh." Craig explained. Tweek held his fingers while he tried to process this confusing human game.

"So what's your body like Craig? ERK! Are-are you sensitive? If you're sensitive do people just come up to you randomly to play? That sounds horrible!" Tweek balled his fists in his pants while Craig toyed with a strand of his blue hat.

"No, no. People are usually respectful when people say they don't want to be tickled. But sometimes people ignore it and tickle them anyway. It can be annoying, but some people like it." Craig shrugged again, half-hoping that can be the end of the discussion. Tweek winked as he worked up the courage to ask his next question.

"C-Can I try? I wanna see what it's like." Craig blinked at Tweek blankly while on the inside he was screaming. Why did Tweek have to be so damn curious... But he looked genuinely interested. And Craig couldn't say no to his big blue eyes.

"Uh, I guess. Like I said, every person is different, so don't be surprised if you don't get a huge reaction out of me." Craig laid back on the couch, his midsection suddenly tense. He remembered getting tickled as a kid, but nothing too crazy. And being a pastor in training has taken away his time to participate in normal kid activities as well.

Tweek sat on Craig's jeaned thigh, his tail wagging out of curiosity. "Urgh...okay! I'm just gonna start like how I saw on the TV, 'cause I don't really know what to do-" Tweek was a lot more straightforward than Craig would have thought. Tweek followed the cartoon character's example and started scribbling his fingers in Craig's tummy. His impish traits gave him nails that resembled a woman's acrylics. Craig snorted from the sudden touching and started to squirm and laugh.

"Pffmt- T-Tweeheheek! Hehehey!" Craig giggled, his eyes narrowed in his laughs. His arms rested on his sides, despite his fists being balled up and resisting the urge to cover himself up. Tweek stopped immediately after he heard Craig protest.

"ACK! Craig, are you hurt? Are you dying?! I didn't mean to kill you, man!" Tweek held Craig's shoulder, his tail curling in worry, as Craig shook his head.

"Noho dude, you didn't hurt me at all. It just tickled, that's all." Craig said in his usual monotone voice. Tweek pulled on his tail in thought.

"Oh, so I was doing the right thing!" Tweek beamed and launched back into it before Craig could say anything.

"Yeah, I gue-HESS! Gihihive mehehe a wahaharning first!!" Craig laughed out as Tweek's fingers returned to his belly, the nails on Tweek's hands scritching the skin underneath Craig's black pastor uniform.

Tweek didn't answer. He's never seen Craig look this carefree. Craig's face was alight with his laughter, his cheeks blushed and his eyes squinting in his giggles. It was funny, even though Craig had no control over how he laughed, he still laughed in the same monotone register of voice.

"Does this tickle? Am-Am I doing it right?? Am I tickling you, Craig?" Tweek asked incessantly while his fingers scratched across Craig's tummy and ribs. Craig giggled and shifted all over the couch.

"Yehehes you ahahare! Yohohou're dohohoing ihihit a bihihit too wehehehell!" Craig tried putting his arms over his tummy to hug himself and keep Tweek's fingers away, but Tweek's reflexes were fast. Anytime Craig put his arm in the way, it was immediately set aside by Tweek. It was like he had four hands.

"Huh, this is- ERK! This is weird! You're laughing but nothing's funny! ACK!" Tweek twitched as he pressed his nails down harder into Craig's tummy for a bigger reaction.

"Ow- Ohohow Tweek! Nohohot sohohoho hahahahard!" The pastor called out to the imp. Tweek lessened his nails and kept it to a light scribble.

"Oh, sorry Craig! Like this??" Tweek shook and scribbled his nails over Craig's tummy and waist, his hands suddenly everywhere trying to find all of Craig's spots. Craig burst out in refreshed laughter as he started moving all over the furniture.

"Nohohoho nohohohot like thahahahat! Pffmt- heheheheh!" Craig's ears burned underneath his blue hat. A pastor in training getting tickled to pieces by an imp from hell. Was this biblical in a way, Craig wondered in the back of his head...

"Then how am I supposed to do it? ERK! I've never done this before!" Tweek began to worry. If you tickled someone incorrectly, did they die? How was Tweek supposed to know?? Tweek started using his index fingers and poked into Craig's hips to lessen the tickles even more to see if that helped. Craig's laughter turned heavy as he covered his hips with his hands.

"Gahahahaha! Stohohop thahahat! Tweeheheheek!" Craig tried pushing Tweek's hands away, but Tweek was still quicker than him every time.

"ACK- Sorry Craig, I'm just playing! I'm playing right?" Tweek's ten fingers scratched over Craig's waistline, which would have started to hurt if it weren't for Craig's shirt in the way. The sporadic use of different methods was starting to weigh down on Craig.

"I gue-hehehehehe! Gohoho sohohohomewhere ehehelse!" Craig called out. Tweek freaked out at this, which caused his fingers to go a little haywire.

"GAH! G-Go somewhere else?! Where am I supposed to go?? Just cause I was tickling you I have to leave?! ACK! Tickling is too intense!!" Tweek's fingers gripped Craig's hips in the middle of his freakout.

"NAHAHA-hahahow! I meheheheant ahaha diffeheherent spohohot! Dihihifferent tihihickle spohot!" Craig cried. Tweek didn't think he could have this much control over a man of God cause of something as simple as a child's game. The pastor in training was totally at his mercy...too much pressure.

"Oh-oh right. Uh, how about here?" Tweek moved down from his hips to squishing the tops of his thighs. Craig calmed down almost immediately but kept up a steady stream of giggles.

"Thahat-heeheheh- thahahat's okahahay." Craig rubbed his face with his hands, his body twitching every now and then with Tweek's squishing. Tweek looked up to see Craig's arms were raised and out of the way.

"Hey what's that?" Tweek asked out of the blue and shot up to stuff his hands up Craig's underarms out of curiosity.

"What's what- GOHOD! Hahahahaha stohohohop!" Craig shot his arms down and kept them close to his sides while Tweek's tail wagged in happiness. He was so close to Craig now, he could see his laugh and smile up close. Pastor Craig had blue braces, but Tweek didn't mind. He thought they looked cool. Tweek had never seen face wear like that before. Craig had a pink blush over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, and his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed. Tweek's impish heart began to pump.

Craig's worn Converse drug across the couch as he tried to buck off the imp tickling him. A man of God at the mercy of an imp? What would the church think...

"Okahahay! Okay okay okahahay stohohohop stop stop!" Craig pleaded out. Tweek's fingers stilled; Craig's face was pink with residual giggles. "God save me..." Craig passed his hands over his face and steamed into them.

"ACK! Oh-Oh Satan, I didn't hurt you, did I?" Tweek hopped off Craig's waist, his tail twisting in worry. and waited by his side while Craig caught his breath on the couch.

"Ahehee- it's-it's okay Tweek. You didn't hurt me, you're just way more intense than I thought. But uh yeah- that's how you tickle, I guess. Also, you're not watching TV anymore. And don't tell anyone this happened, either." Tweek protested as Craig finally figured out the parental controls and blocked all of the kids channels and scary movies.

"Well, thanks for showing me Craig. Urgh...I thought you were cool." Tweek admitted. Craig blushed, not out of mirth but out of something else.

"Cool? How come?" He asked. Tweek shrugged, the leftover sunlight hitting his eyes.

"Ah, I don't know. You're just...mmph...words..." Tweek held his head in thought as Craig held Tweek's hand. Tweek looked up into Craig's smiling face.

"Thanks, Tweek. You're cool, too."

[gypsypendragon]

Pieces of the Heart

2: Coin Hunting 

There had been a lot of things Shachi and Penguin would have used to describe Law when they’d first met him; while they were still getting used to him. Things like meticulous, paranoid, sadistic were a few of the most common that sprung up over the years. Hell they were even more likely to put insane over a few other adjectives. Bepo’s choice of adjectives were a little more lackluster, but they couldnt really say they were surprised taking in their navigator’s more timid nature. Probably two or so years into sailing with him they discovered something quite, un-Law like. 

He collected coins of all things. 

The duo would have guessed something as wild as bones, or skulls long before even considering their teen captain collected coins. He’d denied it, sternly, when they’d asked about it one day. He looked almost appalled theyd even think he’d be into such a “frivilously pointless hobby”, and he’d been so convincing about it the two had thought they’d severely missed the mark. 

All those coins they’d seen on the table one day must have been a fluke, or something else despite how meticulously they’d been set out. 

Promptly after the inquiry the coins disappeared and they never saw them again. Bepo didnt seem to know anything about it either, so the two eventually forgot about the whole thing entirely as the months stretched on. 

At least, until Shachi personally witnessed Law bartering with a shopkeeper over a coin. 

They’d gone ashore, leaving conspicuous Bepo and his powerful electro to guard the tang, to do a small resupply. The island was quite busy; bustling with merchants and traders of all sorts. A large number of other ships had found port at the island, and after talking with locals it appeared the port town was a common resupply and trading outlet. Most didnt even see the trio of teenagers as they moved through the crowds let alone peg them for pirates. Shop owners easily bartered and bargained with them, and locals were eager to share town gossip or snippets of information they’d supposedly heard here and there. Law did most of the bartering; his dealings with merchants far more numerous than Shachi and Penguin’s experience. Swallow island hadnt exactly been a place of heavy trade and commerce after all. Information gathering was their job at the moment. They picked up any information that might be useful to Law and his (still a little vague about it but they were getting pretty clear clues lately) goal, or important for pirates to know in general. 

By the time they’d returned from a round of gossip chasing they’d found Law at a smaller stall. He and the shopkeeper seemed to be talking quite effortlessly, Law’s face and stance neutral telling them easily he wasnt currently being underestimated (he quite hated when adults underestimated them, him, and his posture would change dramatically if it happened warning the two of his coming temper). A small pile of the shopping sat near Law’s legs, and as far as they could tell it looked like that should have been all they needed. Assuming their captain was probably pining after something medical at this point Penguin wandered to a stall selling a number of weapons. Shachi had acquired a katana he was quite happy with a few islands back, so opted to continue towards Law. As he grew closer though, the shopkeeper lifted up whatever they must have been talking about and Shachi halted his advance. 

Low and behold, a shining gold coin was held up in the man’s fingers as he gestured to the face of it, and to Shachi’s curiosity Law nodded like he knew exactly what the man was talking about. In fact, as Shachi dared to creep just a bit closer, he realized Law’s eyes looked a little more lively than they usually did.

He ducked behind the wares of a partially crowded stall when Law turned his direction as if he could tell someone was watching him. Shachi remained hidden for a while pretending to inspect the merchandise around him before he peered around the crowd carefully. Law had turned and retrieved the shopping before leaving the stall. Shachi wandered forward slowly as Law moved away before turning to the shopkeeper himself. He was so curious… 

“Hey, you sell coins here?” He asked bluntly as his eyes scanned the merchandise from behind his glasses. 

The older man chuckled before shaking his head, “Used to son, but a boy ‘bout your age or so just bought the few I had.” 

Shachi grinned, “Oh, no problem then!” 

He slipped away just as he saw Penguin coming down the street; looking around for them no doubt. Spotted, the older boy trotted over.

“Seen Law?” He asked simply.

Shachi broke out into what Penguin would have described as a “suspiciously pleased” grin. The shorter of the two threw his arm over Penguin’s shoulders pulling the older down a bit to his height as they started walking. 

“Remember those coins?” Shachi started. 

It took Penguin a second to realize what the ginger was talking about, but he nodded. 

“Guess what I just saw Law buying at that stall back there…” Shachi’s grin widened, “Old man said he got all the ones he’d had left!” 

Penguin blinked at him for a second before standing up straighter, “Coins? If he’s actually interested in them, why’d he brush it off so aggressively?”

The ginger shrugged as he folded his hands behind his head, “Dunno, but whatever the reason guess he doesnt want anybody to really know.” 

The older boy huffed, seeming almost to take offense to the statement, “Well fine, I guess. We’ll just pretend we dont know anything.”

“Think Bepo knows?” Shachi asked after a moment of silence.

“It’s Bepo; he’s glued to Law. He’s gotta know.” 

…

The duo had spent a while trying to spy on Law after the discovery of his, apparent, secret hobby. They hoped to catch him slipping just to confirm they were indeed right about his secrecy, but Law was meticulous. No matter how long or how many times they tried they could never quite catch him doing anything with coins.

Over time the intensity of finding out faded to a simple, it is what it is, and the secret just became a part of Law to them. 

One island brought a particularly rich merchant presence, but Law had stayed on the Tang with Bepo after coming down with a mild illness. Sent to resupply and gather information alone Shachi and Penguin had taken their time to stroll a bit. Penguin ultimately ended up stumbling upon a particular stall where the woman was selling “collectables”, but what caught him was a small coin in the mess of wares. It was a shining gold, imprinted with a multitude of numbers and such he didnt understand, but there was an intricately designed depiction of a Sea King on the back of it. It certainly wasnt a coin Penguin had ever seen exchange hands before, and he collared Shachi as the ginger rejoined him to have him look at it too. 

“You think those are the things Law’s looking for?” Penguin muttered as the two stared at it, “I’ve never seen a coin like that before; that means it’s special right?” 

Shachi nodded slowly, “I’d definitely say so… I mean, I doubt he’d be going around buying regular common coins…?”

“Do you boys collect these?” The sales woman had at some point come over to them.

They looked up, a little startled. 

“This one’s quite a good find if you do!” She nodded smiling brightly, “The Sea King coins are hard to come by you know! I heard a lot of them got lost!”

“So these are, collecting coins?” Shachi asked slowly as Penguin took a closer look at it, “A friend of ours is into these…” 

She beamed suddenly, “If that’s the case then you would definitely be doing them a favor! Even if they have one already, each Sea King on the back was designed differently so duplicates are impossible!”

“That’s gotta be what Law’s doing right?” Penguin speculated to no one in particular, but he glanced at Shachi quietly. 

The ginger regarded him for a split second before nodding lightly. 

Penguin looked at the woman carefully, “How much are you selling it for then…”

She looked down at them, studying the pair for a moment. The shorter ginger boy would have been better alone she guessed; he didnt seem as savvy as the taller boy. The gaze currently on her was cautious and familiar with how bartering worked. 

She sighed as she leaned back, crossing her arms lightly over her chest, “I havent had many people come through here that are even aware of coins, so I’ll tell you what… buy two more items from me, and I’ll let you have the coin for a quarter of what I was originally going to sell it for.”

Shachi seemed eager to accept, glancing back between her and Penguin with an eager twitch to his lips. Penguin though mulled over the offer. A quick glance around the other wares told him there wasnt technically anything they needed here, and he could only guess maybe a want or two and light ones at that. 

The woman’s eyes studied him carefully; the older boy wasnt stupid. 

“One item full price, the second half, and the coin a quarter.” Penguin finally offered. 

Her tongue clicked against her teeth for a moment as she considered. She’d had decent business today, and like she’d said the coins werent something anyone who frequented was ever after. The pair hadnt seemed interested in anything else she had but the coin, and any business was better than none. 

“Alright.” She finally relented with a wave of her hand, “But the more expensive of the two you pick remains the full price item.”

“Deal.” Penguin finally agreed. 

The pair picked their items half heartedly, both just grabbing something that mildly caught their attention right away, before they were finally on their way back to the Tang. Law’s coin was tucked carefully in one of Penguin’s pockets as they discussed how to get it to him.

“Do we just… give it to him?” 

Penguin shook his head, “Na… I dont think Law would take it if we did; he’d deny wanting it again… maybe I can sneak it onto his desk somewhere…”

Shachi laughed, “Think that’ll confuse him?”

“I dont think it’s that easy to confuse Law.” Penguin sighed, “But guess we’ll find out.”

Law was wandering the halls of the Tang, albeit slowly, by the time they returned. He looked a little less worn out at least. His attention had been drawn to the odd trinkets they’d been carrying but between the two of them and their commonly random impulses he didnt think twice about their half assed cover of ‘they’re cool looking arent they?!’ 

The Tang soon set out from port, Law lingering up in the control room with Bepo as they began charting their next direction. 

The pair took the chance to slink away toward the rooms to deposit their hidden treasure. Law’s room was, despite himself, always a little messy. They’d been in and out of it before, and it had surprised them the first time they’d seen it. The desk was always just slightly covered in half heartedly stacked papers or books; the bed was only ever half made; even rare occasions would yield a few clothes on the floor. This time, they took the slight mess as an ally, as they slipped the coin onto the desk. 

“Put it under the papers a little bit!” Shachi said quietly, “He’ll think maybe he forgot to put it away or something!”

Having not seen a single coin since the day they confronted him about it all that time ago, Penguin doubted Law would have “forgotten” to put them away, but it was as good as place as any.

Despite their, attempts at sneaking around though, a body lingered outside the door of the room unbeknownst to them. 

Golden eyes stared at them quietly as his hand hesitated on the doorhandle. He’d come back intending to lie down again when he’d heard the two of them inside. Rooms had never been a, private, feeling between the four of them. All of them often coming and going as if doors didnt exist, so Law hadnt thought twice about hearing their voices from inside. 

He’d paused though, when he’d heard them mention coins in their (particularly not) hushed discussion. Unable to help himself he’d bristled a little and had intended to storm in and throw them out; he’d thought they’d long since given up trying to figure that line of inquiry out. 

Their next few words though, had stopped him. 

“We’re going to keep looking, right?” Shachi had asked Penguin with genuine, dare Law say, concern in his voice. 

What was there to be concerned about? It wasnt as if there was any threat hanging over them if they didnt; in fact Law was set to argue there was more threaet from him if they did. 

“Of course!” Penguin seemed oddly enthusiastic all of the sudden as he turned to the ginger, “Law’s not… I dont know… normal about stuff!” 

Law blinked; what was that supposed to mean?

“If we want to do something for him we gotta be quiet about it.” Penguin had luckily continued, their odd silent communication not the choice of voice this time (thank goodness, Law would later think), “Let’s face it Shachi, we all suck at expressing.”

“I express enough!” The ginger seemed offended.

“Yeah, anger!” Penguin’s words were followed by a soft thwack to the back of the head, “You know what I mean! Law took us with him even though he could have totally left us. He keeps taking us with him; keeps patching us up; keeps teaching us. If we're gonna thank him for it all, we gotta be quiet… he’ll never accept anything like this straight.”

Shachi grumbled, but nodded, “Yeah, but wont he get suspicious if they keep showing up?”

“We’ll just, space out dropping them off or something…” Penguin half suggested with a shrug, “He’s always so busy with medical stuff or the library I’m sure he wont notice one or two every so often.” 

Law had quietly let go of the door after that, turning and carefully walking down the hall back to the control room. He felt a little offended, kind of, but found more concern with the creeping, warm sensation that tugged at his chest and face. While he didnt think they needed to go to so much trouble, let alone thank him for anything, he’d let them do as they would if they really needed to do something for it all. 

Besides, he definitely couldnt let them see him like he was right now or he’d never hear the end of it….

… 

As time stretched on, and the crew grew larger, the odd shore habit of the pair was quickly picked up on. New crew members would catch one or both wandering away from the main group to inspect rather odd choices of stalls. The pair had slowly begun to search more frequently as Law’s attention was drawn further and further away from his own thoughts, and into the consuming realm of Doflamingo and his goal. They’d picked up the seriousness of Law's disregard for himself after witnessing him glance over a set of coins before forgoing even inquiring about them (they had promptly picked them up in his place before the Tang departed that island).

Ikkaku was one of the first to find out what the two were up to, and instantly had been on board keeping an eye out for these coins their captain apparently collected. She clued in Uni some time later when she and the taller man were sent on shopping duty, and he’d been eager to help look for the little gifts for Law. The information spread slowly, but surely, through each member until all of the Heart Pirates were aware of their captain’s not-so-secret secret. Some, like Bepo, who would be able to obtain the coins but lacked the quietness of sneaking in and dropping them off, often turned to Penguin for help. Though Shachi was pretty good, no one matched Penguin’s ability to traverse quietly through the Tang. More often than not it fell to the older to take the precious trinket and sneak it into the room while Law was gone, distracted, or (the easiest of times) when he was holed up in the ever accumulating library. 

Hakugan, rarely one for shore based activity, stumbled upon a rare find one time that ended in many of them spending much of their personal allowances in one go. A rather stingy seller had a numerous amount of coins (many none of them could recall obtaining previously) that the Heart Pirates knew they could not leave without. Though more bodies searching now made coin spotting easier, it did not make finding them any more frequent. Coins were few and far between, especially ones that looked like they would be something Law’s meticulous mind would enjoy, and they were not about to pass up such a treasure of a find as this one. 

It had taken Penguin, Ikkaku, and Clione (the most frequent of the shore run participants) to haggle, argue, and exasperate the man down to a, questionably, reasonable price for the lot. In the end a number of them forked over the beri needed to obtain the whole amount, but no one complained. 

Law had been driving himself into the ground lately, and they were all for trying to find anything that would help give him some form of serotonin.

The lot had yielded a grand total of 10 gold coins, and five strange silver ones none of them had ever seen before. Having never seen silver in Law’s possession before Penguin had been skeptical, but the detail of the designs had been enough to include them in the purchase. It was, however; a large amount of coins to just slip onto Law’s desk. 

In the end they decided to divide the coins into two at a time over the course of at least a few months. Seemed reasonable enough, especially with Law’s distracted attention lately.

The first round was set a week later to avoid suspicion, and soon Penguin found himself creeping outside their captain’s room. No one had seen Law all day, so he was either in the library, or for a more difficult outcome, in his room. Penguin had a few back up lies in case their captain was indeed in his room and inquired about the spontaneous visit. 

He pushed the door open as quietly as possible, but in the silence of the Tang that late at night even the tiniest of sounds felt agonizingly loud. Creeping forward slowly Penguin made sure not to trip over the pair of boots that were haphazardly thrown near the bed as he rounded toward Law’s desk. The desk that currently held the sleeping form of their captain; much to Penguin’s misfortune.

Law seemed, for once, deep asleep despite the hunched over positon he’d fallen into. Penguin stood quietly next to him for a long while as he made sure Law was indeed asleep. Most of the crew members’ mere presence too close would wake the younger man due to his Haki, but he, Shachi and Bepo had apparently been around Law long enough that they didnt so much as register when they breached his personal space anymore. 

With Law, Penguin took the wins where he could get them.

The man remained fast asleep, and finally Penguin moved. He fished the two coins out of his pocket before scanning the desk for a good place to slip them.

There was quite a mess around this time; Law’s form actually sleeping across some of it. A bit of luck seemed to favor Penguin that night though, since he realized Law must have been in the middle of going through his coins before passing out. There were rows of them spread out neatly in one side of the desk while others were piled together atop one another; clearly waiting to be organized with the others. Penguin took a second to take in the amount, and finding it quite a lot more than he would have guessed at. As he looked at the desk he realized Law’s arm was over a small notebook. A mess of jagged scribbles he recognized as Law’s handwriting filled the book in messy, but meticulous, columns. He couldnt see all of it, obscured by Law’s arm as well as the low light, but Penguin could make out enough that he almost barked out a laugh. 

Rows of scribbling read in meticulous order the numbers engraved on each coin, followed by a date, and then a name. It wasnt some random name either, but a name of a Heart Pirate. Some were written confidently, Penguin and Shachi’s names the most common, while others were less sure. Small question marks lingered near Ikkaku’s name on one, and Clione’s another. 

Penguin realized they werent as sneaky as they thought they’d been. Truthfully, he guessed, they should have given their captain far more credit than they had. Law wasnt dumb; far, far from it in fact. He sighed, silently, before a smirk spread across his lips. 

Well if Law wasnt going to say anything, and was going to keep playing this “secret” game with them, he’d certainly do the same.

Shaking his head Penguin returned his attention back to his pervious mission; finding a place to put the newest additions Law would have to catalog. He glanced once more around the desk before his eyes landed on a pair of wooden boxes sitting near the unorganized pile of coins. 

One was much smaller and held a pristine condition, but the slightly larger one it sat on was far more worn. Areas of the paint around where one might lift and close it from were wearing away; fading slightly against the rest of the color around it. Curious about them, but deciding he’d spied on their captain enough, Penguin carefully placed the two coins on top of the boxes before turning and heading out of the room. 

Shachi was lingering around the corner as he closed the door, “What took so long?” 

“Just… making sure Law didnt wake up.” Penguin said quietly as they moved away from the room, “He was in there, asleep at the desk of all places. Moved a little, so wanted to make sure he was still asleep before I tried to leave the coins.”

“Law mentioned something about a long term recon somewhere; think we can slip all the rest while he’s away?”

Penguin grinned lightly, “Maybe… if he hasnt clued in yet, he probably wont notice then…”

…

When Law finally returned to his crew after a long, draining dive into the underbelly of a particularly large island; the resounding chorus of cheers were a kind of remedy he would never really be able to prescribe. They partied, ever his rowdy crew, and made sure Law was ever present in the center of their groups as if they wanted to make sure he wouldnt disappear again. Well into the night it went as the Tang sailed calmly under the dark waves.

He’d been exhausted when he’d first boarded her, and had been sure he wouldnt have kept up with his crew’s antics. Yet as he quietly left the sprawled out crew in the common room to return to the cool atmosphere of his own, he felt oddly re-energized. He sighed, heavily, as he closed the door to his room and let the quiet atmosphere envelope him for a moment. It was tidy and clean, and he huffed out a small smile; of course they’d fixed it for his return. 

Shedding his jacket, letting it lazily pile near the end of the bed, Law fell into the cool sheets. The Tang hummed quietly around him, it's familiar sounds and smells welcoming him back in it's own way, and he felt a wave of comfort slowly wash over him. Deep beneath the waves, with his crew and the Tang; Law would never feel more at ease anywhere else.

He turned his head slowly, eyes lazily sliding over his desk which had also been (partially) tidied up. He stopped though, when something subtly reflected the shimmer of the water outside. Sitting atop the boxes he left carefully stacked at the corner of his desk, closest to the bed, was a numerous amount of coins. 

Helpless against the feeling rising in his chest, Law laid there and stared at them for a while as he grinned to himself in the quiet darkness of his room. If they kept this up any more, he was going to have to get another box for those secret coins that kept strangely appearing on his desk.

Not that he minded much really; he was more fond of that collection now than the other one anyway…

XX🐠🏴‍☠️XX

I've returned with another short, some light fluff.

I wont lie these soft short stories are a bit tricky for me, I'm an angst/hurt/comfort writer tbh. I dwell in the tragedy and injury devastation side of writing.

These are good practice for me though, so it's nice. There will most certainly, probably, be some angsty shorts in the future though. I can only deny my nature so long haha.

If you've got any suggestions for a prompt or so also let me know! I'm always fishing for more ideas.

I always thought law's coin collection hobby was an interesting choice on Oda's part, but I'm also a little bias. My dad used to collect coins, specifically quarters, he had whole boards of the US states that he could put each respective quarter from that state of whatever year he was after. I cant even remember how many he had tbh; there were a lot.

(Also if you're ever looking for all the pieces im going to be posting for this shorts collection im going to be tagging them all with "Pieces of the Heart by KC" in the tags so they should hopefully be easier to find.)

[alicecatfan-2007]

Reverse Portal AU My Version

The Curse of Stanley Pines | La maldición de Stanley Pines

In English

While on the Boiling Isles, trying to protect Eda in a chase, Stan was hit by a coven member's spell. He couldn't figure out who it was, but Eda hurriedly told him that the person who cast the spell was wearing a cloak. and a white mask, so they assumed he was a member of the emperor's coven.

Unfortunately, the next day, Stan wakes up feeling the effects of a curse.

Thanks to his research on the boiling islands, Stan managed to discover that the curse he had was similar to Eda's, only instead of being the Owl beast, it is one with a shape silmilar to that of a werewolf, Lupinotuum pectinem mortis. (or as Stan called him, Lupin) is a mysterious entity that acts as the avatar of his own curse.

He dwells in those afflicted by his curse, often appearing to his victims within their subconscious when the curse is in effects

Unlike Eda's curse, Stan's curse is "easier to control," in Eda's words.

Lupinotuum pectinem mortis, true to its name translated as "Werewolf of Death", is a robust, bipedal creature with a werewolf appearance.

He has a thick coat of dirty looking silver fur, large paws, sharp claws and long tail.

His head resembles that of a common wolf, with a circular golden mark with a small circle, resembling a fish eating something, with hollow black eyes and large fangs.

Illustrative image

The symbol on his forehead

In the mindscape, he has an astonishing height that dwarfs Stanley, but when he weakens, Lupine reverts to a smaller, childlike form and is less than half Stan's size.

In the mindscape, he has an astonishing height that dwarfs Stanley, but when he weakens, Lupine reverts to a smaller, childlike form and is less than half Stan's size.

Nothing is known about this creature, beyond the basics, that elixirs counteract the curse, its weaknesses are to oversaturate its senses of smell, hearing and sight, it will behave aggressively unless it senses security and the smell of members of its pack. .

What Stan doesn't know is that Eda knows the truth about his curse, but that information is "not important."

45,64,61,20,69,73,20,74,6f,20,62,6c,61,6d,65,20,66,6f,72,20,65,76,65,72,79, 74,68,69,6e,67

En Español

Durante su estancia en las islas Hirvientes, tratando de proteger a Eda en una persecución, Stan fue golpeado por el hechizo de un miembro del aquelarre, no pudo averiguar quién era, pero Eda le dijo apresuradamente que la persona que lanzo el hechizo llevaba una capa y una máscara blanca, por lo que supusieron que era miembro del aquelarre del emperador.

Lastimosamente, al día siguiente, Stan despierta sintiendo los efectos de una maldición.

Gracias a sus investigaciones sobre las islas hirvientes, Stan logro descubrir que la maldición que tenía era similar a la de Eda, solo que en vez de ser la bestia Búho, es una con una forma similar a la de un hombre lobo, Lupinotuum pectinem mortis (o como Stan lo llamaba, Lupin) es una misteriosa entidad que actúa como el avatar de su propia maldición.

Habita en aquellos afligidos por su maldición, apareciendo a menudo frente a sus víctimas dentro de su subconsciente cuando la maldición está en efecto.

A diferencia de la maldición de Eda, la maldición de Stan es "más fácil de controlar", a palabras de Eda

Lupinotuum pectinem mortis, fiel a su nombre traducido como "Hombre lobo de la muerte", es una criatura robusta y bípeda con apariencia de hombre lobo.

Tiene una gruesa capa de pelaje plateado de aspecto sucio, patas grandes, garras afiladas y larga cola.

Su cabeza se asemeja a la de un Lobo común, con una marca dorada en forma circular con un pequeño círculo, asemejándose a un pez comiendo algo, con ojos negros huecos y grandes colmillos.

Imagen ilustrativa

El símbolo en su frente

En el paisaje mental, tiene una altura asombrosa que empequeñece a Stanley, pero cuando se debilita, Lupin vuelve a una forma infantil más pequeña y tiene menos de la mitad del tamaño de Stan.

En el paisaje mental, tiene una altura asombrosa que empequeñece a Stanley, pero cuando se debilita, Lupin vuelve a una forma infantil más pequeña y tiene menos de la mitad del tamaño de Stan.

No se sabe nada sobre esta criatura, más allá de lo básico, que los elixires contrarrestan la maldición, sus debilidades son sobresaturar sus sentidos del olfato, oído y vista, se comportara agresivo a menos que perciba seguridad y el olor de miembros de su manada.

Lo que Stan no sabe es que Eda sabe la verdad sobre su maldición, pero esa información "no es importante"

45,64,61,20,65,73,20,6c,61,20,63,75,6c,70,61,62,6c,65

[noticiasarquelogicasjaponesas]

Sean bienvenidos japonistasarqueologicos a una nueva entrega del país del sol naciente en la que os, hablaré del Santuario Arashihiban, una vez dicho esto pónganse cómodos que empezamos. - El santuario Arashihiban, se localiza en la prefectura de Miyagi al noreste de Japón, en la isla de Honshu. Aragshinkan ¿A qué dios está dedicado? Es un dios que está envuelto en muchos misterios, además, es adorado en las regiones de Tohoku y Kanto. Arashiben-jinja se localiza en la ciudad de Tagajo y se desconoce la fecha exacta de cuando se construyó, pero consta en los registros del año 1774. - ¿En qué consiste el Tsugarusoto Sangunshi? Se trata de un antiguo documento, que fue descubierto por Kihachiro Wada. Sin embargo, ahora se podría tratar de una falsificación, Arahabaki aparece más el nombre de una familia que gobernó la región de Tsugaru(correspondería a los terratenientes europeos en Japón se les conoce como daimyō, en hiragana みょう). Dejen en los comentarios vuestra opinión, para debatirlo. - Espero que os haya gustado y nos vemos en próximas publicaciones que pasen una linda semana. Welcome Japanese archaeologists to a new installment from the land of the rising sun in which I will talk about the Arashihiban Shrine, so once you have said that, make yourselves comfortable and let's get started. - Arashihiban Shrine is located in Miyagi Prefecture in northeastern Japan, on the island of Honshu. Aragshinkan Which god is it dedicated to? It is a god that is shrouded in mystery and is worshipped in the Tohoku and Kanto regions. Arashiben-jinja is located in the city of Tagajo and the exact date of its construction is unknown, but it is recorded as being built in 1774. - What is the Tsugarusoto Sangunshi? It is an ancient document, which was discovered by Kihachiro Wada. However, it could now be a forgery, Arahabaki appears more the name of a family that ruled the Tsugaru region (corresponding to European landowners in Japan are known as daimyō, in hiragana みょう). Leave in the comments your opinion, for discussion. - I hope you liked it and see you in future posts have a nice week.

日本の考古学者の皆さん、日出ずる国からの新しい回にようこそ！今回は嵐播神社についてお話しします。 - 嵐播神社は宮城県にある。荒神館 どの神様を祀っているのですか？謎に包まれた神で、東北地方と関東地方で信仰されている。荒祭神社は多賀城市にあり、正確な創建年代は不明だが、1774年に創建されたと記録されている。 - 津軽外三郡誌とは？和田喜八郎によって発見された古文書である。しかし、現在では偽書である可能性もあり、アラハバキはむしろ津軽地方を支配していた一族の名前に見える。議論のために、あなたの意見をコメントに残してください。 - それではまた、良い一週間をお過ごしください。

[omegaremix]

Sunday Records, 2022.

It’s early June and I’m in the middle of eleven days off from work. I cannot tell you how stunning these last few weeks have been for me. For the first time in a long time I’ve been feeling great about many things. I have been at the top of my game. Relaxed, tranquil, and level like never before. I went to Sacred Bones’ 15th Anniversary and experienced a feeling like no other. I’ve met a few friends from the alternative-music circle whom I haven’t seen in years. I’ve been tasked to do an amazing amount of summer radio shows at WUSB. The Roman goth girl who’ve I’ve been in contact with since February taught me to face my fears, to not be afraid of bad news, and see the greatest, truest value in people. It’s not even halfway to June and I feel something great is yet to happen.

I’ve been spending money on music without worry. It’s a winner-take-all tour of Long Island’s record stores and at this point I’ve hit up three so far with astonishing results. Sunday Records would be my fourth on the list to visit and it had to be. It’s my only Sunday off in the foreseeable future and, still true to its name, only opens on that one day. I didn’t have a choice, did I? It took me only 30 minutes to get there and closing time was 5PM. It’s 2PM as I walked through those doors so I had three hours to Autobahn it through the entire store. No shelf or rack was left unsifted by me.

The layout of Sunday Records hasn’t changed one bit. Nothing’s re-arranged. Upper wall racks of 7” singles and 45’s hovered above the 12” vinyl bins. There was a maze of LP’s front to back, side to side, and in the middle. What also hasn’t changed was the owner’s system of classifying records unique to the store. If not a genre, it’s chart position, week, and radio station. Brian (the owner) was obsessive to detail and nostalgic like that. Then again, so am I.

There’s a section on the front left side of the entrance. It’s where the electronic, dusty classics, and un-priced arrivals sections were. Less than .01% of its stock was electronic and I sure wasn’t going to waste time sifting through Fifties and Sixties jazz greats. I just knew. I turn to my right and there were plenty of funk, groove, and R&B LP’s and 12” singled there. I looked under the bins and there were boxes of records not priced out. That’s where I found various hip-hop and rap singles, uncharacteristic for a store that specialized in vintage jazz, Seventies radio rock, and everything Eighties. It was all fair game and I took what I could. Unstickered singles by Black Moon, Big Daddy Kane, Kurtis Blow, Jeru The Damaja, Fu-Schnickens, Double XX Posse, and an early pre-fame DMX e.p. (“Born Loser”). I knew Brian wasn’t the type who was into West Coast jams or boombox anthems and made me think why he took them in the first place. No matter. It was a lucky out for someone like me to easily stock up on hip-hop and rap vinyl.

Now the 45’s. Sunday Records was always good with pricing them on the cheap. What I purchased in 7” singles from West Babylon’s Looney Tunes, I tripled that here. These 7” singles of Eighties hits from my Atari / Nintendo childhood meant not having to purchase full albums for one or two songs. Why not acquire them? Plenty of synth-pop, new wave, and pop rock. One 7” I might have passed up the last time around was Re-Flex’ “The Politics Of Dancing”. The single that gave me these Sunday vibes was finally in my hands. This visit’s surprises? Gary Numan’s “I Die: You Die” b/w “Down In The Park” and Killing Joke’s “Adorations” for $4.00. Then I came across The Normal’s “T.V. OD” b/w “Warm Leatherette” The good news was that I discovered it. The bad news? It was a $14.00 hit…and without an original artwork sleeve. The price you pay to take home synthpop history.

When that was over, I took a deep breathe and dove into all the vinyl inventory. The great thing about Brian was that almost nothing was out of place. He’s incredibly meticulous in that everything was in alphabetical order and with almost nothing in the wrong bin. Also with Looney Tunes, a good amount of records were alphabetized or sorted by artist, allowing me to fly right over large chunks of sections and straight to the others. What wasn’t hip-hop / rap and categorized by chart position, week, and radio station ended up on the lesser expensive side. Like the 45’s, I sped through furiously through the LP bins and acquired a lot of hits from my childhood. A recent discovery now in my hands? Captain Sensible’s “Wot” for $5.00.

And what I made up in value, I would lose later with some essential finds. That’s even avoiding the new vinyl section. Towards the end of searching was where it started to hurt. The least of my worries? The Cars’ Panorama for $8.00. The Shirts’ debut and Anti-Nowhere League’s The Perfect Crime for $9.00 each. But that’s not all. I found essentials in The Young Gods and Pere Ubu where it stopped at the $10.00.

Now the heavy stuff. No one remembers or know who The Innocent was. The Roman goth girl I mentioned earlier? She’s insanely obsessed with Tent Reznor. While doing a Nine Inch Nails run, I learned he was part of said band right after leaving Option 30. The Innocent’s only album was found in one of the bins and I grabbed it for $14.00. Had I not known about them, I would’ve zipped past it without even knowing. One album I passed up during my last record-store tour was Cabaret Voltaire’s The Crackdown. I found it twice in unopened condition for $20.00 at several stores and gave it up at least twice, thinking I could l buy it for less. Well, four years later I was right on that one. I finally found it again and for $14.00 opened I wasn’t going to pass it up a second time. While there, Sunday Records still maintained a good selection of other industrial and related releases. They had more Cabaret Voltaire records including The Pressure Company (!) and even the new ones (Shadow Of Fear and Dekadrone) which I was impressed that Brian carried. Front 242 e.p.’s were also in the bins and several Ministry records starting with Work For Love (the overseas pressing of With Sympathy), some Twitch-era singles, and all the way up to Psalm 69.

Here comes another unexpected hit in the kneecaps: Kraftwerk’s The Man-Machine for $20.00. Any time I buy Kraftwerk on vinyl I pay that price; nothing less. That’s how much I paid for a used copy of Radio-Aktivitat at a record fair held in Amityville’s veteran hall. Again, take no chances. Finally, a record that I hoped to find in the wild because it was so good: The Raveonettes’ Pe’ahi; $20.00 asking price. Decisions had to be made but not necessarily now. I held on to it for the time being, having to decide to take it now or pass it up and find it again somewhere else for less. Looks like I will take my chances.

It’s not an understatement when I say this, but 99.99% of Sunday’s stock was all vinyl. The other .01% were used cassettes and CDs placed right near its listening station at the front-right of the entrance. I passed it all up as nothing there interested me. So far, Sunday- is the only store where it was all vinyl.

Ten minutes to closing. It’s about time to make some decisions. Brian greeted me and started counting everything up. Of the 75 I had in my arms, I gave five back to him including the Raveonettes album. He was amazed. He tried selling it back to me because he also knew it was a great album. Oh, I agreed. But as I told each and every one of you, I held off just in case. His laptop lost its’ juice so there was no easy way for him to add it all up and keep track of what he sold me. He ended up taking photos of everything I bought and took him about a good fifteen minutes to calculate it all. Then I gave in. I’d take the Raveonettes’ album after all. Take no chances, right?

“You should come here more often!” he told me in an exasperated manner. “Really?” I laughed. It’s not every year that I do this, Brian. I’d try real hard to keep up if I did. Now I knew why he said that.

“That’ll come to $348.00”. Yikes. That was at least triple of what I spent at my last visit here. I was sweating like Rodney Dangerfield on his worst night. (Plot twist: he never had one.) Despite Brian giving me all the hip-hop records for $20.00, the other records made up for it. No coupons, either. But, I had all the confidence in the suburbs to spend with no worry. The stack was so hefty that Brian got me a box from the back to hold all the 12” records in and bagged all of my 45’s so that they wouldn’t slip out of position. I was relieved in the end to nail that Sunday like I wanted to. But the day wasn’t over yet.

After I thanked Brian for everything, I loaded my purchase in the trunk. I had plans on seeing Candy, a Jewish ginger whom I haven’t seen since we left Brentwood. She has a family-owned restaurant out in Calverton and I promised I’d visit the next time I was nearby. I went west on Route 25 and started the peaceful, sunny journey to her eatery. It’s not every day I’m out in Riverhead or Calverton. I took all the time in the world driving through the scenic route of vast farmland and sparse local businesses along the long, quiet roads; ready to catch up with her and walk down a beautiful but bittersweet and tattered memory lane.

Prince: “1999” b/w “How Come U Don’t Call” 7”

Re-Flex: “The Politics Of Dancing” b/w “Flex It” 7”

Normal, The: “TV Overdose” b/w “Warm Leatherette” 7”

Gary Numan: “I Die: You Die” b/w “Down In The Park” 7”

Pet Shop Boys: “It’s A Sin” b/w “You Know Where You Went Wrong” 7”

Robert Palmer: “Simply Irresistible” b/w “Nova” 7”

Pet Shop Boys: “What Have I Done To Deserve This” b/w “A New Life” 7”

Bananarama: “Cruel Summer” 7”

Belinda Carlisle: “Heaven Is A Place On Earth” 7”

Dead Or Alive: “Brand New Lover” 7”

Joan Jett: “Little Liar” 7”

Killing Joke: “Adorations” b/w “Exile” 7”

Mike & The Mechanics: “Silent Running (On Dangerous Ground) b/w “Par Avion” 7”

Tone Loc: “Funky Cold Medina” 7”

Suzanne Vega: “Luka” 7”

Human League: “Don’t You Want Me” b/w “Seconds” 7”

Escape Club: “Wild Wild West b/w “We Can Run” 7”

Erasure: “Chains Of Love” b/w “Don’t Suppose” 7”

Don Henley: “All She Wants To Do Is Dance” b/w “Building The Perfect Beast” 7”

Starship: “We Built This City” b/w “Private Room” (ins.) 7”

Todd Rundgren: “Hello It’s Me” b/w “Cold Morning Light” 7”

Huey Lewis: “Stuck With You” b/w “Don’t Ever Tell Me That You Love Me” 7”

Stevie Winwood: “The Finer Things” 7”

Wings: “With A Little Luck” b/w “Backwards” 7”

Robert Palmer: “Addicted To Love” b/w “Let’s Fall In Love Tonight” 7”

Bananarama: “Venus” b/w “White Train” 7”

Joan Jett: “I Hate Myself For Loving You” 7”

Mike & The Mechanics: “Through The Living Years” b/w “Too Many Friends” 7”

Stevie Winwood: “Higher Love” 7”

Don Henley: “Dirty Laundry” b/w “Lilah” 7”

J.J. Fad: “Supersonic” 12”

Black Moon: “I Got Cha Opin” b/w “Reality” 12”

Big Daddy Kane: Raw ‘91 12”

Kurtis Blow: “If I Ruled The World” 12”

Jeru The Damaja: “Come Clean” b/w “D. Original Dirty Rotten Scoundrel” 12”

Fu-Schnickens: “Ring The Alarm” 12”

Young MC: “Bust A Move” 12”

Chaka Khan: “Crush Groove (Can’t Stop The Street)” 12”

Big Daddy Kane: “I Get The Job Done” 12”

Double XX Posse, The: “not Gonna Be Able To Do It” b/w “The Pure Thing” 12”

Domino: “Sweet Potato Pie” 12”

Masta Ace Incorporated: “Jeep Ass Niguh” b/w “Saturday Night Live” 12”

Fonda Rae: “Over Like A Fat Rat” 12”

River Ocean ft. India: The Tribal EP

Grandmaster & Melle Mel: “White Lines” b/w “Melle Mel’s Groove” 12”

DMX: “Born Loser” 12”

Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five: “On The Strength” 12”

Anti Nowhere League, The: The Perfect Crime 12”

Mr. Mister: “Is It Love b/w “Broken Wings” 12”

Thompson Twins: “Lies” 12”

Roxette: “The Look” 12”

T’Pau: “Heart And Soul” 12”

Dire Straits: Extended Dance EP 12”

Flora Purim: “Stories To Tell” 12”

Raveonettes, The: Pe’Ahi 12”

Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark: “If You Leave” b/w “La Femme Accident” 12”

Nu Shooz: “Point Of No Return” 12”

Falco: “Vienna Calling” b/w “Rock Me Amadeus” 12”

Shirts, The: self-titled 12”

Belinda Carlisle: “I Get Weak” 12”

Captain Sensible: “Wot!” 12”

Young Gods, The: self-titled 12”

Men Without Hats: “The Safety Dance” 12”

Level 42: “Something About You” 12”

Killing Joke: “Sanity” b/w “Eighties” 12”

Pere Ubu: The Art Of Walking 12”

Kraftwerk: The Man-Machine 12”

Innocent, The: Livin’ In The Street 12”

XBXRX: Gop Ist Minee 12”

Cabaret Voltaire: The Crackdown 12”

Cars, The: Panorama 12”