#anyway i got other shit to do so i'm cutting myself off here

[camels-pen]

(i haven't read Whole Cake in a while, and i never really watched it, so bear with me)

I'd love to write a fic with Usopp on Whole Cake. it'd be sooo fucking long and i'd need to refresh myself on the entire arc, but god i'd probably be so satisfied when it's done. specifically for having brought a single moment in my head to life, but we'll get to that.

On Zou, he insists to be taken along on the Sanji rescue team and has worked himself up with a whole bunch of very good reasons as to why he should go there instead of helping in Wano, but of course Luffy just immediately accepts with a "yeah sure"

With Whole Cake, I think he'd be flipping between having fun as part of the idiot trio/quartet (Luffy, Chopper, Carrot), and being terrified with Nami. There wouldn't be that many differences in the arc as a whole, though; some things would be easier/better and some things would be worse- I don't necessarily think Usopp's presence would be overall an advantage or disadvantage, just different. Like, major events would stay mostly the same, but little details would change and maybe those little details would build to a far more drastic change-

for example, maybe one of Big Mom's kids considers themself a great sniper and wants a match with Usopp, or is motivated to work harder because Usopp is around and they want to take him out and boast about it. Maybe it means Sunny takes more damage than canon, or maybe Usopp's help means less damage to Sunny. (idk if i'd really do smth like this, but it's just an example)

skjdhf fuck i'm really not equipped to try and figure this out when i don't remember shit from Whole Cake aaaa

I do know that, despite his penchant for talking and rambling, I'd probably have Usopp be dead silent after his initial shock when Sanji fights Luffy. Everything about that is the same, except Usopp is just watching Sanji the whole time- not panicking, not moving, and not speaking. He doesn't say a word the entire time, doesn't even make a sound, and that, along with Luffy's words and Nami's begging, stick with Sanji.

(Usopp is thinking of his own fight with Luffy in Water 7, he's partially wondering if this was what it was like- if it was this painful to watch from the sidelines- and partially knowing he doesn't have to say a word, because he knew, like he knew back then, that it didn't matter what was said. It wasn't quite the same, but he could tell in the way Sanji moved, in the way he spoke and held himself, that he was putting on a front, trying to be brave in all the wrong ways. Usopp didn't say a word to Sanji because there was nothing he could say that Sanji himself didn't already know. Should've known. And his quiet, direct stare, was more than enough.)

the singular moment i really wanna write, is a scene where Sanji is apologizing for dragging them into his mess- either during the big meeting in Bege's castle or some other time- and Usopp's like "I'll do what you can't, you do what I can't, right?" and Sanji pauses, a little confused, until he remembers Enies Lobby and a stupid mask and cape and-

and tears are gathering in his eyes now, fuck, but he laughs a little. It sounds wet and his face is itchy and they're surrounded by tentative allies, but he- he laughs again and he says, "Fuck, you remembered that?"

Usopp shrugs, a little smile on his face. "They were some wise words from a wise man."

Sanji laughs a third time. "You think I'm wise?"

And they banter a little more before Bege tells them to quit it since they're on a time constraint or something. Quietly, Usopp will ask, "It-it helps. On bad days. And I figured, 'what's a worse day than this?' Ah, not that you getting married would ever be bad per se-"

"Usopp," Sanji says, looking more relaxed and settled. He smiles fondly and grabs his friend in a one armed hug, crushing him to his side. "Thanks."

And yeah, don't remember much beyond that, except the whole "hiding and then busting out of the cake" bit, which would mean Usopp in a cute little tuxedo or smth- maybe with a fedora aaaaaa <- loves fedoras- helping out with the fighting and eventually sailing with everyone to Wano.

He would be so distressed about fixing up Sunny now that the whole thing with Whole Cake is over. Maybe there'd be a gag about him promising Franky to take good care of Sunny while they were gone and being confident, after being Franky's tinkering partner and learning from him over time, that he could handle minor repair work much better than he did the first time around with Merry. And so when he finally takes in all the very-not-minor repairs he has to do, he's certain Franky is gonna strangle him for not keeping his promise. Probably also try to write in some nostalgic 'repairman Usopp' vibes from pre-Water 7.

Also something something, Sanji, wanting to do more for the crew bc he still feels guilty about Whole Cake, decides to take it upon himself to help Usopp not fall into a whole anxiety spiral about the ship. In turn, Usopp ends up helping Sanji not feel so guilty- usually by handing his own words back to him on a silver platter. And, yknow, having the two of them bonding and being buddies again like they so rarely get to be in canon nowadays qwq

[comicallylargemango]

🥭 : teeheeheehee author here, I've been having major Francis brainrot so now I gotta show the world :3 (I can now proudly call myself one of the first few people to write a Francis X reader)

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Francis Mosses/Milkman x DDD! Gen! Reader

Other: some swearing, shit talking, mentions of injuries, reader is using crutches (caused by the injuries), reference to the red handed doppelganger.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

It had been a long day at work, there were more doppelgangers than usual and it really took a toll on you. A doppelganger even started, about how all this was useless and blah blah blah they'd win anyway. It even fought back, and boy did it put on a fight.

You limped on your bandaged leg as you mainly used your crutches to walk, not your first time to have been injured so badly you had to use crutches. You sighed exhaustedly and you imagined your Husband lightly reprimanding you for being so careless once he got home, you quickly brushed that thought away and went back to focusing on getting home.

As you got to the door man's window, you painstakingly take out your ID and entrance request, the Doorman raised a worried eyebrow at your state.

"Bad day at work?" She asked while examining your ID and entrance request.

"Tell me about it." You only sighed and leaned on the small counter Infront of the window to give your (working) leg a break.

"Everything seems good..." She murmured, "you're good to go."

"Thanks." You thanked her and started walking.

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

You made your way to your shared apartment, letting out a sigh of relief as you jammed the key into the keyhole, twisting to doorknob.

Imagine the shock as your eyes land on your Husband sitting on the couch watching TV, he's usually home late in the afternoon. His head turns to look at you with a slight glimmer in his tired eyes.

You smile softly as he makes his way towards you at the doorway, making notice of your crutches and bandaged leg. The cuts, scratches, and dirt on your clothes and skin didn't go unnoticed either.

"What happened this time..?" Francis asked worriedly. Guiding you to the bathroom to change.

You took your dirtied shirt off as Francis looked away blushing slightly, making his way to the bedroom to get you some clothes.

He arrived soon, still looking away until you gently turned his face to meet you.

Sighing exasperatedly, you softly kissed him on the nose while taking the clothes from his hands, smiling tenderly as you see the ring on his finger.

"I'll tell you after I'm done, thank you Fran."

He simply hummed and looked you up and down, making you smile as a blush tinted your cheeks.

you had a hard time taking your pants and bandages off, that's when you noticed Francis still looking at you, leaning on the doorway with a concerned look on his face.

"Do you... Need any help?" He spoke up, standing up straight and rubbing the back of his neck.

Your eyes softened as you nodded. He made his way over to you to help you stand up, taking care in taking off the rest of your clothing.

His eyes roamed your body, growing more anxious as he takes note of every single scratch and cut. Meanwhile you were nearly falling asleep from his hands gingerly tending to you.

You only woke up from your half asleep state when you heard him speak again.

"Why don't you take a break for a day?" Asked as he turned you around to peck you on the lips, setting you down on the bathtub as he twisted the handle. Checking the temperature and adjusting it according to your liking.

You, once again dozing off. Absentmindedly muttered your answer.

"I should be asking you that." You chuckled softly, turning to look at Francis as he took off his clothes to join you. "Looking good Fran." He blushed.

He scoffed light heartedly as he took a seat behind you so in that way you were sat right in-between his legs with your back facing him.

"Seriously though, you've almost worried me to death. I can't handle seeing you like this, all..." He gestured to your leg as he sighed, applying a good amount of shampoo into your hair and massaging it into your scalp.

"Mmm, don't worry. I've been put on leave for a few weeks. Besides, This isn't the worst I've ever been." You leaned back into him, relishing the touch.

"Why didn't they just send you to stay at the hospital anyway? You would've been better there."

"Because I requested to be sent home, sweetie. I wasn't gonna spend two weeks at the hospital when I could be fine at home."

He washed off your hair and started applying the conditioner, "that's sweet, darling. But you really need to be more careful next time." He kissed the crook of your neck, enjoying the shiver that came from you.

"Hey it's not my fault my job is dangerous." You crossed your arms and exhaled.

"It kinda is, you applied for it after all."

"Fair enough."

He washed the conditioner off then dried your hair using the towels, helping you get out the Bathtub and handing you the towel to wrap yourself in. Doing the same for himself with another towel.

He walked to the bedroom to get himself clothes while you changed in the bathroom with the prepared clothes.

He returned soon after to help you out on the remaining clothes, wrapping some fresh bandages around your wounded leg. Also making sure to compliment your "Magical Ass" along the way.

you two made your way to the bedroom to rest, you immediately flopped down onto the bed which worried Francis. He had barely ever seen you this tired, he was exhausted himself but he can't imagine how tiring your day must've been to have completely drained you of energy.

"You gonna come over here or nah?" You snapped him out of his thoughts. he unfurrowed his eyebrows, not knowing he even did so. Mumbling a quick "sorry" before getting into bed with you.

You immediately grab him and snuggle him much like a child would sleep with their plushie. Despite being injured and all, you we're still very strong. As expected from the lead officer of DDD. he laughed through his nose as he turned to look at you and smiled softly. Kissing your forehead.

"Mind telling me what happened now?" He said, wrapping his arms around you to pull you impossibly closer. Burying his head into your chest. (Y'all can't tell me he ain't a chest man)

You sighed, recounting the events of today.

"We were called for another extermination, thought nothing of it until the stupid thing started talking about how this was useless and they'd just end up 'victorious' anyway." You hugged Francis tighter, letting out a huff of frustration as he hummed to let you know he was listening.

"It ended up getting it's hands on a piece of broken glass and I'm sure you can tell what happened next." You gestured to your leg.

"We called for backup a buncha times but they refused to send more people because apparently I'm a veteran officer and that somehow means everything is fine."

You yawned as you mumbled the last sentence. "Can you believe it Fran?"

"Sounds like the higher ups were being a dick." He replied, enjoying the sensation of your fingers drawing circles and shapes on his back.

"They were." You kissed the top of his head, Francis returned the favour by looking up and kissing the tip of your nose.

"Enough about my day, what about yours?"

Francis hummed, "yknow just the usual, Mara being the massive stick up my ass."

Mara, or Maratha. Was a daily customer Francis wouldn't mind losing, she was really a stinky old bitch, always complaining about nothing and everything at the same time. One of her usual complaints being that "the milk was more watered down than usual!".

"I don't even know why she's saying it to me as if I'm the one milking the cows, I'm just the one delivering it. Say it to my boss why don't ya?"

You snorted, "normal Mara behaviour."

"Normal Mara behaviour." He sighed. "And, there was this girl in that newly renovated building across the road who tried hitting on me?"

"What..?"

"Yeah, i don't even know her name. Told her I was married too but she wouldn't back off. She said something along the lines of 'marriages don't even last long. watch, she'll leave you in a few years.'. " He visibly cringed at the memory.

You laughed at his facial expression, "just because your parents are split doesn't mean others will too."

Francis started laughing with you, wrinkles forming at the edge of his tired eyes. "She didn't even buy milk, saying how they were 'putting microchips and chemicals into the milk.', ridiculous."

As the laughing died down, a comfortable silence settled in the air. Only the sound of your breaths and the occasional beep of a car, the sound of your heartbeat and rustling of the the trees outside.

If only it could stay this way forever, unfortunately though you may not have work, Francis does.

"What a shame, huh? I asked to get sent home instead of the hospital just for you to be at work most of the day. To think there's even some girl hitting on you while I'm not there." You said, eyes slowly closing.

"Mhm, I'll try and ask my boss for a day off tomorrow." He started dozing off, "and if he refuses Ill just put you on the phone."

You smiled triumphantly as you remember that time you had a meeting with his boss.

He looked so Nervous in agreeing for a day off for your husband that it made you wonder what would've been the outcome of you weren't a DDD officer.

"He'll have to accept then huh? Unless he wants to discuss the matter face to face with totally amazing and wonderful me." You joked sarcastically

Francis laughed through his nose, "you got that right dear." he smiled, eyes closed. "Hey, honey?"

"Yes Fran?" You whispered.

"I love you." He slurred, finally falling asleep.

"I love you more." You gave him one last kiss on the head before turning off the lamp and joining him in Dreamland.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Should I make a part two?

A/N: eat up pookies

[inkskinned]

i'm used to it, and how bad it is, and how often it's so bad that it rings like a bell inside of me, drowning out everything around me. and the truth is that i get frustrated with myself about it - again? we're like this still? again? it's not that i feel weak, precisely. it's just this sense almost like - i've already been pushing against this thing for years now, shouldn't i have gained more ground?

i get frustrated because i'm sick of picking up the loose ends every six months. i get frustrated because it's always this same shit, same problem - i lose myself in a matter of months; spiral out of control, lose touch with friends and loved ones. i stop taking care of myself and therapy gets hard and i let everything around me wilt and shrivel and fall off; start somehow both sleeping too much and not-enough. i panic-attack and cry in my car in a target parking lot, pulling my hair out and hurting my ribs from sobbing so hard - and later, when i'm better, i'm embarrassed because how could i let it get that far?

it feels like - i already have done this so many times. isn't there a way out of it? isn't there a point where i've just... won? that it never happens again, that i just get to be done? maybe this is weakness, i guess - that i still (so often!) succumb.

i am used to it, so i forget exactly how hard it gets. do you even know how many times i've laid in bed, exhausted, blank and numb and listless and said - i can't anymore. i just can't. i'm not even really upset. it's okay. i've been here long enough. so much of my life was beautiful.... i'm just... done.

do you know how many times i woke up and i said - i can't and put my feet on the floor and said i can't, i don't want to and took a shower and walked the dog and bought myself fresh bread and put a nice playlist on and said i really can't, there's no end to this and i went to work and i called a friend and i made myself cookies even if food tasted like ashes and decided that i really should wait for the new album from that artist i love and i thought i can't, it's not worth it and then i washed my hands and cut my hair and drank more water and wrote a poem and signed up for an art class at the local community college and said i can't, i can't, i won't do this again, and i paid my rent and let the dishes rot in the sink but still made myself eat anything fresh even if it meant overdrawing my account on a stupid bag of plums just because they looked delicious and do you know how often i closed my eyes and thought this is it i really fucking can't, something has to give and i have nothing left that it can take and then i went to bed and i got up and i fucking survived anyway

yesterday the local ice cream place opened up for the first time this season and they were giving out tiny samples of their new dairy-free options and i tried a mango sorbet. three months ago i was positive that februrary was going to be my last month on the planet. i am teaching my dog a new trick and i just discovered a new band i love. i got a plant from the clearance aisle and repotted her and she's been perking up. i made salmon for alison and we ate it in her new house with her new beautiful baby girl. my manager told me he keeps recommending my work to others just because i always include a stupid number of puns. tomorrow i'm trying a new dance class. tomorrow i'm maybe going to buy more plums.

i forget, you know? it's not some bone-deep strength or some magical power. it's that some part of me knows - i need to stay. in all of this; out of all of this - i just want to choose love.

[hazbinhazmeinachokehold]

The hotel gang + overlord!reader part 2

Part one here

!Not beta read!

While it may just be the stress talking, the bed was surprisingly comfortable, for a hotel at least. Today was a lot. Even if this hotel seemed to be a net positive it was still a lot. So the comfortable bed made it seem like you already made it to heaven. As you sank into the bed you drifted off to sleep.

You awoke to a few loud and powerful knocks on your door. "Hello? If you're awake we are going to do some trust exercises!" Charlie called out. You unintentionally groaned as you got up.

"Give me a minute!" You replied.

"Okay." Charlie said as she left. When you got up you looked at yourself in the mirror. You weren't a mess by any means but you've definitely looked better. You freshen yourself up slightly before going downstairs.

The Hotel residents and staff were all in a circle. You sat down in one of the gaps in the circle. Charlie cleared her throat.

"Okay everybody let's go around in a circle and say our names first! I'm Charlie." She paused, "As you all know." Everyone else proceeded to say their name, which you already knew everyone's name. Excluding the short one-eyed girl, Niffty, and the girl with an x over one of her eyes, Vaggie. Then your turn came.

"Uh- Hi! My name is y/n" You cringed at the nervousness in your voice.

"Now I want everyone to tell a fact about themself. It doesn't have to be anything huge, just something to get to know each other." Charlie said, "I love musicals!" Yeah, that was pretty easy to guess.

Angel was next up. "I love sitting on big, HUGE-"

"Angel I fucking swear." Husk cut him off.

"Comfortable chairs! What were you thinking?" Angel had a smug smile plastered on his face. "Also cocks as well." He added. Husk and Vaggie groaned.

Niffty went next, but Charlie spoke before her, "Please try not to scare away our newest member." She pleaded. Niffty pouted but compiled anyway.

"I love writing fanfiction! Escapily with bad boys." Her tone turned slightly seductive at the end. You elected to ignore that.

There was a silence as everyone waited for Vaggie. Charlie stretched her palm out to tell her to talk. "Oh- yeah right sorry." She shook her head slightly, "I like to dance."

"Really!? How come I never knew that?" Charlie asked.

"It never came up." Vaggie smiled faintly

"I'm the bartender," Husk grumbled. Vaggie elbowed him. "What? I told a fact about myself."

Alastor let out an "ahem" noise. The focus shifted to him. "While this is a fact in general, I believe that radio is the utmost form of medium." As baseline as this was for a guy such as Alastor, you also kind of expected it. Alastor would not let anything deeper about himself slip. So why not go for the most well-known part of yourself. "Now, y/n, darling I do believe it is your turn."

Oh shit right. You've just met these people so don't go with anything personal. Also, make sure it doesn't make anyone uncomfortable. “I really don’t like being an overlord.” Your mouth moved before you could comprehend what you were saying. Well fuck. If this was a TV show you’d clearly be the comic relief, at least right now. Everyone but Alastor and Niffty had some form of uncomfortable plastered on their face. Alastor however had a curious yet sinister smile on his face. Niffty wasn’t really paying attention to you, she was chasing some random cockroach. 

You wanted to go back on that statement but something was saving you from embarrassing yourself further. Do demons have guardian angels? If so, yours was working overtime right now. But they also weren’t getting much work done.

Your real savior was whoever blew the fucking wall up. Everyone's head was quickly aimed at the now missing wall. While Husk just accepted it everyone else, including yourself, to find the source. Like you were in some sort of horror movie character getting ready to be stabbed. But you instead met with a huge mechanical blimp that had an impractical amount of guns.

“There you are!” The person in the blimp called out. It was very hard to hear but it was just loud enough. “Alastor, are you ready to be beat-”

“Who is this?’ 

“Who- Who am I!?” The voice was very clearly offended at Alastor's lack of knowledge. You just drowned the rest out. Alastor was cruel and frankly heartless. But he also did not like wasting time. So even while this poor sinner's fate was sealed, thankfully it wouldn’t be as drawn out as his past victims. You turned around to hopefully save any shred of innocence you were able to save. As you entered through the wall you could hear both Alastor and his victim speak.

“Thank you for another forgetful experience!” Alastor said. You didn’t necessarily

want to look but you did so anyway. Kind of like watching a car crash.

���Thank you…” the snake struggled to get out, “ For letting your guard down!” He ripped part of Alastors coat off. Well, that's not good, for anyone really. Alastor’s coat got torn and this sinner is about to die again. Or at the very least get seriously injured. You’re honestly surprised he lasted this long. He was notably weaker than The Radio Demon’s usual opponents. 

He, quite appropriately, said “Oh shit-” Before an explosion (you can only guess caused by Alastor) caused him to fly away. Welp, he’s gone forever now. The hotel seemed nice for the most part. It honestly still does. You just wish you weren’t staying in the same house as The Radio Demon. But now that you think about it, almost everyone here seems to have something severely wrong with them. And that includes you too. So at least you fit in.

[indigosunsetao3]

The Car

Warnings: Jealousy, Manipulation (from both parties), Smut, Oral Sex

Second expansion of the Ex Husband Price list.

"No no no," you groan as you car splutters on the road. You knew something felt off when you had pulled out of the garage at work but decided to risk it anyway. You had recently started a new job, finally able to find a company that was willing to take a risk on you after such a long time away from the work force. Eager to show your enthusiasm for the job you worked late all week, even this Friday evening.

"Shit," you sigh as the car bucks in protest and you pull over to the very narrow shoulder. It's whining and idling so low you know it's going to stall out and before you can even throw the hazards on it does just that. It had done this before and you never got a solid answer from John what the issue was. He threw a whole bunch of lingo at you explaining but he knew it would go over your head.

You give the car a few seconds rest before trying to the key to start it again. The car stutters, engine squealing as it tries to turn over but it doesn't get there. You wait and try again, same result. One more time and you let out a yell of frustration and throw the keys into the passenger seat. It's nearly ten at night, on a Friday. You couldn't just leave your car here but a tow was out of your budget, and actually going to the shop to fix it was out of the question.

There's only one other option and it eats you from the inside as you stare at his number in your phone.

"John," you say when he finally picks up. It had rung so long you were sure it was going to go to voicemail. He doesn't say anything but you know he is listening. "My car's dead," you explain with a irritated sigh. "I was leaving work and it did that weird bucking thing and I think I saw smoke," you explain, eyes darting to the road as another car flies by. "You we're able to fix it last time and I just thought you could tell me-" you don't finish before he cuts you off.

"Call a tow," John replies flatly and you hear something rattling; glasses. "I'm busy," he continues and then you hear someone talking in the background. A man but you also hear a woman's lilting laugh a second later. That makes you freeze.

"You know what," you snap, jerkily removing your seatbelt and going for the door. "I'll figure it out myself," you climb out and slam the car door shut. Another car races by and the loud roar of the engine makes you wince as your jam the phone between your shoulder and ear as your fingers scramble to find the hood latch. "Have a nice evening with your friends."

"Get back in the car," John snaps, obviously having heard you climb out and the cars going by. "Where are you?"

"Doesn't matter, you're busy," you answer back finally finding the latch. You let the phone slide down and you grab it with your hand as you wrench the hood above your head and look for the support piece to hold it in place. "I'm sure someone will pull over to help." And you hang up.

He calls back four times but you ignore him as you stare at the engine. You have no idea what you are looking at and when you reach for something familiar the heat wafting from it makes you flinch back. Then, because England lives for being dramatic, it starts to rain. The water fizzles as it hits the hot engine and you huff, moving to let the hood fall with a loud bang again not sure if it was wise to let the engine drenched.

Stomping around to the drivers side door you stare at the phone as John starts sending texts before calling again and you finally pickup.

"Figure it out, sweetheart?" John asks sarcastically. You can hear music in the background and you do your best to not let your ears strain to see if you can hear that woman again.

"I'm calling a tow," you answer simply as you smooth your hair back off your face. "Maybe they'll actually fix it properly this time," you snipe. He had been the one to 'fix' it last time.

"Where are you?" He asks ignoring your jab.

You sigh before giving him the road you're on and lean back into the seat. He says he'll be there in thirty, he has to drop someone off at home first. You don't ask who that person is, though you feel a squirm in your stomach at the thought if it was that woman. Maybe a date that you interrupted. If you hadn't been so exhausted after a long week you probably wouldn't have even called him. The instinct to reach out to him when something went wrong was still too strong and it irked you that he was still your safe space.

Lights flare in your rearview mirror as John pulls up in his truck, flashing them once to let you know it's him. The rain is coming down in a proper downpour now and you snatch up your purse and dart out into it. You twist to lock your car over your shoulder, the battery is functional at least. When you pull the door open you have to pull yourself up, the stupid thing so tall that John used to help you in it whenever you two would take it out.

"Don't," you say as he looks at you and opens his mouth. You're shivering and you wrap your arms around yourself as he throws on his signal to pull back into traffic. "I'll call a tow for it in the morning," you state as you watch the dark form of your car in the mirror disappear into dark. "Maybe I just need a new one. I don't want something unreliable." Not that you could afford a new car by any means.

"I'll look at it first," John states as he leans over and turns the heat up a bit. "Probably just the fuel injector again," he mutters, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He doesn't say anything else for the rest of the ride and you don't fill the silence either. You're exhausted, cold and frustrated with yourself and the whole situation. Especially the jealousy burning in your chest as you catch sight of a lipstick covered straw on a fast food cup in the cupholder. He catches you looking at it and smirks as you quickly advert your eyes back out the window.

"You can stay on the couch," you offer looking at the radio clock as he pulls into your driveway. It's almost midnight and you know his apartment is across town, "if you want." You tack on before climbing out and wobbling on your heels on the driveway. It's the least you could do for him taking pity and coming to get you, plus if he's here he's not with the woman wearing shocking pink lipstick.

"Gaz is going to meet me in the morning," he offers as he kicks his shoes off at the door while texting on his phone. "See if we can fix it."

"Right," you answer, not turning around to look at him as your climb the stairs. "You know where the blankets are."

"You're welcome," John calls up the stairs, to which you answer with a snap of your bedroom door. You flick the lock for good measure even if the cheap doorhandle would never keep John Price out if he was determined.

Rest is fitful. You wake up multiple times and stare at the ceiling thinking about the fact John is downstairs. How long had it been since you had spent a night together, even if it was in different rooms? Months. You nearly crack and go down to check at him a three am. Telling yourself you just wanted to make sure he was comfortable, but when you open the bedroom door his resounding snores tell you he's just fine, ruining your pathetic excuse.

When you wake next it's nearly nine in the morning and you quickly hop out of bed. You can hear music coming from outside and you peer out the window to see John in the driveway, bent over tinkering over your car engine. He must have been up early to have already gone out, managed to get it running, get it back here and Gaz already be gone.

Not sure what to do with yourself you keep busy in the house, willing yourself to not look out and stare at him. When you brought him out a bottle of water and some crisps he's humming along to the music, a smirk on his lips as he works. He glances at you as you watch over his shoulder, doing your best to look at what he's doing and not the back of his actual shoulder where the muscles are rippling under the skin as he loosens a few bolts.

"Need something?" He asks as you stand there uselessly for another few minutes. "I'm almost done if that's what you're here for," he tacks on as he stands up and wipes his face with the bottom of his shirt.

For fucks sake. You bite the inside of your cheek at the glimpse of his stomach, the sweat that is shining there and the matted hair that trails deliciously down to the waistband of his pants. He lets his shirt fall before chugging the water as he looks at you waiting for an answer.

"I've got a few errands to run today," you cover quickly. "Is this going to be working properly when you're done with it? Only, I don't want to get stranded again," you state, doing your best to sound annoyed and not impossibly distracted by him standing there.

"It'll be fine," John answers, "you need to keep up the maintenance on it. The oil was sludge," he admonishes as he toes the waste can. "When was the last time you actually took it in for a tune up?"

"That was your job," you answer with a small shrug. "Didn't cross my mind. Just another thing to add to my to do list until I find someone else to do it for me." You turn heel and you know he's glaring at your back.

You spend the rest of your time burning off the nervous energy cleaning the house. When you drag the overflowing trash out to the bin you spot the fast food cup from the night before sitting in there. The bright pink lipstick glaring in the sunlight and you reach in to grab the cup to look at it, pausing when you realize how ridiculous that is before dumping the rest of the trash over it. When the lid slams shut you look over to see John staring at you with a shit-eating grin. He knows you had saw it, as if he had planned it.

Sometime later you hear him come in and find him washing his hands in the sink. He's covered in dirt, grease and sweat. You lean on the door jam watching him for a bit, watching him attempt to suds off the dirt with one of your flowery hand soaps.

"Just go shower," you state after a second as he leans down to rinse his arms up to his elbows. "You're making a mess of my kitchen," you state, tilting your head at the puddles of dirty water that he's dripped all over the sink and floor.

"I'll be out in a few," John states as he brushes past you. "Car should be all set by the way. Fully tuned up and running perfectly," he turns to walk backwards for a second, "you'll still need to get an oil change in six months though."

"I'll be sure to let the next person know. Six months should be plenty of time to find someone else to do it," you smirk as you see his shoulders tense as he rounds the stairs. You wipe up the kitchen and realize he doesn't have a towel and you'll be damned if he gets oil all over your nice ones.

Darting up the stairs you pause at the linen closet to grab an old ratty towel before knocking on the ensuite. The shower is running and you're about to crack the door open and throw the towel in for him when he calls for you to come in. You twist the door handle and push the door open to find him standing there in just his pants, hands in the midst of undoing his zipper.

"Forgot to give you a towel," you state, holding it up to him. He nods his head to the side to indicate for you to just set it on the counter. Then he undoes his zipper fully and steps out of his pants in a swift movement. He acts as if this were normal, that you were still married and he was just getting in the shower after a long day.

"John!" You snap as you drop your gaze to the floor quickly and twist your head a bit.

"Never knew you to be shy," John answers simply as he bends down and grabs his pants and folds them on the counter. He's going deliberately slow and you dart your eyes up to look at him. He's watching you like a hawk and you swallow as you take in the sight of him in the rapidly steaming bathroom. "Get out then if you're that upset about it," he teases as you let your eyes roam over him. He holds perfectly still, letting you drink him in knowing that you're struggling. "Or join me," he tacks on with an eyebrow quirk. "Saw you watching me all morning," he smirks. "Don't lie," he says quickly as you open your mouth to fight him on that.

"Get in the shower," you breathe out as you move to leave. "I don't want to see the lipstick on your cock from your girlfriend last night." There was that jealousy you had been trying to fight for hours. You hadn't seen anything, but you had certainly looked for the evidence despite yourself. His hand grabs your wrist swiftly and tugs you back toward him.

"I cleaned that off already," he taunts pulling you closer to him. "You jealous, sweetheart?" He tilts his head to the side a bit as you twist your wrist to pull back, it's a false attempt and you both know it.

"You're free to do whatever you want," you answer, eyes flicking up to his face. "Does she know you went to your ex wife's rescue?" You see his eyes narrow at the word ex-wife and you do your best to squash the glee you get at his anger of the term. "And you stayed in her house?"

"She's not worried about it," John answers and he knows he's hit a sore spot, but he keeps needling. "I told her exactly where I was going and she just told me to be careful." He's confirming your worst fear and the sudden jerk of your arm breaks his grip on you.

"Wash up and get out," you snap and turn to leave but you barely make it to the door before he grabs you around the waist to pull you back. He's chuckling and you thrash seeing red.

"She doesn't care if I'm with my wife," he states, either purposely or slip of the tongue forgetting the ex part. "Because she's Johnny's bird. I had them over the apartment last night," he nips your ear as your still in his arms. "Now who's a jealous arsehole?" Something you had accused him of so many times.

"You lied," you gasp out, the fight dying in you as you piece everything together. He nuzzles the side of your neck and kisses your pounding pulse. You don't fight him as his hands roughly untucks your shirt from your sinfully short pajama shorts.

"I never said a word, you made your own assumptions," he admonishes as his hands find your now bare breasts and kneads them roughly. "Turn about is fair play," he grinds out as you arch up off him as he pinches your nipples. You know he's referring to what you had done last time he had been around, taunting him about your ex.

"You let me make them on purpose," you whine as one hand slides down your stomach toward the hem of your shorts.

"So what if I did?" He asks as his fingers toy with the elastic of your underwear. "I like getting you all worked up. Watch you squirm a bit," he palms your center through the thin cotton material and you attempt to grind down on his hand but he pulls back a fraction of an inch. "Get you needy for me," his fingers brush down the v of your bikini line, "remind you that you did this to yourself." He bites your shoulder as you grab his wrist to force him to touch you but he barely grazes your clit with his finger before pulling away.

"John," you say frustrated as he lets go of you and steps around to get in the shower. "We can't kept doing this. It's just dragging it out."

"I seem to remember it was you calling me last night," he states as he opens the glass shower door and barely steps in. His eye are watching you, a commanding look on his face as he lifts his hand up to you. He's making you go to him, making you beg him.

You stare at him determined to hold onto some dignity this time. You couldn't be the one to give in twice in a row, even if you had gotten yourself off last night thinking about him to take the edge off to get some sleep. But when the hot water rushes over John's naked form and he curls his fingers in a come-hither motion, you follow obediently.

You strip out of your shorts and underwear and step into the steam of the shower. Before the door even clicks shut he's got you pinned to tile wall, causing you to gasp at the bite of cold on your back. His tongue takes that chance to sweep in and you moan as his fingers finally find your clit and rub gentle circles. He kicks your legs a bit wider so he can run his hand further down you and he roughly pushes a finger in without warning.

"This is something you can't take care of yourself," he says as he pulls back from the kiss to rest his forehead against yours. "I heard you last night," he states as he curls his finger, pumping antagonizing slow. "Heard you open the door before retreating again. Then I heard you whimpering my name a few minutes later," he hitches his breath with you, a mockery, as he pushes a second finger in. "Yet here you are, still so needy for me. Can't take that edge off yourself can you?"

You narrow your eyes. You thought you had heard something when you had dug around in the nightstand. Had frozen in your hunt for something, anything, to get yourself off but found your stash depleted. Your toys had slowly been disappearing, or losing charge when you needed them most, over the past few months. You just thought you had just misplaced them in the bathroom or forgot to charge them. But the way John is taunting you, you're suspicious he's the reason you haven't been able to properly get yourself off.

"You sneaky bastard," you pant as he kisses you feverishly a few times before dropping down to his knees before you. You run your hands through his soaked hair as he kisses his way down your stomach, his one hand never stopping its ministrations as his other slides down to the back of your thigh to lift your leg up over his shoulder.

"I would have helped you last night," he replies as he kisses you just a fraction of an inch above where you want him most. "But you're the one who locked the door," he finishes before darting his tongue out to lick a long, wide, stripe over your clit.

You buck up and have to slap one hand on the wall to keep yourself balanced as he begins to lap at you in earnest. The water is scalding against your already heated skin and when you look down you see John's eyes staring up at you. The piercing blue eyes crinkled in the corners because he's smirking at what he's doing to you, at the noises he's getting out of you.

"How many times did you cum last night?" John asks as he picks up the pace with his fingers, pressing his free hand on your lower pelvis to keep you from riding his hands and helping yourself.

"O-once," you shudder, "barely." You admit because damn it you want to get off properly. If his smug attitude at 'winning' this fight meant that would happen, you would you'd take it. "Fuck John," you throw your head back on the wall, feeling it bounce lightly, as he nips at your clit.

"Poor thing," he taunts as he places a chaste kiss where he had just bitten. He twists out of the grip you attempt to get on his hair to pull him to you; he's going to decide when and how you finish. "Impatient, jealous and oh so needy," he spreads you a bit wider before sucking lightly causing you to shake with exertion.

"Stop teasing me," you say frustratedly before yelping as he bites you harder than before. "Please," you tack on knowing he's never one to accept your demanding things.

"Since you asked so nicely," John says before finally giving you what you want. His fingers find that spot in you without hesitation, he knows your body too well, as his tongue abuses your clit. You rock your hips into his face, riding him as he pushes you to that edge. You finally topple over the abyss at a scrape of his teeth and he holds you steady to keep from slipping in the water.

You come down, sinking a few inches on the wall as he unhooks your leg off his shoulder. He's smirking as he pushes up from the ground and you reach for him, more than ready for a second, or third, orgasm but he stops you despite being rock hard himself.

"I've got a meeting," he explains as he grabs a bottle of shampoo absently and begins to quickly wash his hair, using the excess suds to wipe down his skin. "And unlike you, I can finish myself," he smirks as his palms his heavy dick for a second just to taunt you before rinsing off.

You narrow your eyes reach for him again but he grabs your wrist to restrain you. He's serious. He is going to leave you here aching for more. With one last gloating smirk he steps out and grabs one of your nice towels, the raggedy one left forgotten on the counter.

In his haste to clean up he hadn't gotten all the grease off his skin and the remnants are left on your nice fluffy towel. You glare at the mess before attempting to finish the job John had left for you but it doesn't work. It's a ghost of an orgasm that he had given you in the shower.

What John didn't tell you was his meeting was simply paying off Simon for helping him. He had asked him to follow you home from work to make sure you didn't end up in too dangerous of a spot when the car did eventually splutter to a stop. And after John had picked you up Simon fixed the car in a second. He just had to put the fuse back in that John had ripped out earlier that evening.

Once the car was running properly, Simon pulled it safely into the woods for the evening. A task that thankfully didn’t require hot-wiring since John had given him the set of spare keys he had stolen after he fucked you over the couch all those days ago.

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

Tag Request: @shadofireshinobi

[recuira]

after hours

after hours : a live action buggy x fem!reader fanfiction

for some odd reason, you have no idea who he is. and he fucking loved that.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

chapter one chapter two chapter three

chapter four | suede. stalking. silly.

his pov;

"Your wanted poster."

Those three words settled in my mind as I stared at the distraught girl in front of me, watching as she fumbled with her hands, a nervous exterior brushing over her. She seemed to be so horrified with the fact that I was once a pirate sought after by thousands- wanted dead or alive, though much preferred dead. Many still wanted me dead but due to my brilliant idea of hiding out here, the chance of anyone getting my bounty was thin. I, however, didn't see it being as much of a big deal as she deemed it so. The real issue I found was tucked away in one of the books within the nightstand which I was so fucking thankful she didn't find. I'd rather her not have been looking around but if she were to find one of the two? I was glad she found the poster.

I tossed another slice of apple into my mouth then set the knife down on the cutting board. I approached Y/N but instantly halted when I noticed how nervous and uneasy she was. "What's wrong?"

"H-How many people did you kill?" She asked, her voice shaking.

"Does that really matter?" I asked, waving my hands up in the air to hopefully exaggerate my point. "It was almost a year ago."

"That doesn't change the fact that it happened!"

"I know, I know." Despite her discomfort, I took a seat next to her anyway. She tightened her arms around herself, almost to make sure there was as much distance between us without her actually moving. Clenching my jaw, I patted my hands upon my thighs. "I know it's a terrible thing, and there's nothing I can do to change that. It's in the past and if I could go back and alter things, I would. Being a pirate was all I knew. My old friend was one, too. Then we separated onto different things and-"

"Did he kill people?"

"Lots of pirates kill people. It's part of the hype, ya know? It's very unlikely to raid another ship without there being any casualties. But I stopped because I got tired of it. I wanted something more."

"It's a pretty big bounty. I mean- come on, fifteen million berries?"

"Don't think about turning me in now," I chuckled, wanting to add a bit of lightheartedness to this unfortunate predicament.

"I'm not like that. I know I'm in need of money but-"

"I didn't mean it like that, Y/N, come on. Give me some slack."

"Well, why exactly did you stop? Did you lose the thrill of stealing from others? O-Or did you get bored of killing innocent people?"

I rolled my eyes, scoffing. "We've all done some shit we're ashamed of. We're humans. I did a lot of fucked up shit," I said as I pointed at myself. "But I changed that. I moved and let all that go. I left my crew, made someone else the captain, and abandoned ship. I left all of that shit behind and came here."

"But why?"

"If I say this, I'll probably make things worse but I don't want to lie anymore," I said as I laid back, folding my hands over my chest. I stared up at the ceiling. "You've obviously heard of the One Piece, right?"

"Of course."

"Well, I was one of those pirates absolutely obsessed with finding it. Fuck, I even dreamt about it. It was the only thing I truly desired in life. It was the only thing I thought about. Not riches, women, alcohol- just the One Piece. I was making somewhat decent progress but then I heard that a group of Straw Hats-" I grimaced at the thought. "-made off with the map which they stole from one of the Marine bases. I happened to track them down and I managed to steal the map from some kid named Monkey D. Luffy. But all good things must come to an end and I lost it. I was back to square one. And then I discovered his bounty was thirty million berries." I frowned then sat up, turning to face Y/N. "Can you believe that? Some newby pirate-wannabe received a bounty double my own! Seeing that brought me back to reality. So I dropped everything then came here."

"All because of him?"

I nodded my head. Just the thought of that kid irked me. There was no one, other than Shanks, who I despised more than my own self.

"So, yeah, I know what I did was fucked up. But there's a reason I'm here now. There's a reason I've given you so much. It's because I want to be a better person, maybe redeem myself for what I've done. And I can do that by helping you, by making your life a little less miserable."

"Do you pity me?" The girl asked, finally meeting my gaze.

"What?" I laughed, almost obnoxiously. "Of course not. If anything, I envy you."

"Me?" Y/N pointed at herself. "You envy me?"

"You have no bad conscience. You've done nothing wrong, you have nothing to make up for. You have a clean slate."

She shrugged, a small smile creeping onto her lips. "Thank you."

"So, uh, do you hate me now?" I asked, forcing a frown to mimic a pouting child. She giggled at this and shook her head. I sighed in relief, wiping 'sweat' from my forehead. "Thank god. I don't know what I'd do with myself if you hated me."

"I knew you were a pirate but it's still shocking to learn about your past. It'll take me a bit to get used to it but I don't hate you."

"So, we're good?" I extended my hand.

"We're good." She shook it.

I felt as if a huge relief was lifted off my shoulders. And as long as she stayed out of the nightstand, there would be no more issues. But if I hid the book, then I would be even more safe. I pondered the possibilities before I watched as she rose from the confines of the bed and approached the counter. My eyes trailed down. The backs of her thighs were exposed and the shorts clung to her ass so divinely. I bit my lip and crossed my leg over my lap.

"I appreciate everything you've done for me," She mumbled as she started to chew on an apple, then began to cut into an orange. "I do have a question for you, though."

"Go ahead, shoot." As soon as she turned around, my eyes met hers and I smiled.

"Are devil fruits real? Or is that just an old tale? I've never seen one up close and I heard they cost a fortune, even for just one alone."

"They're real," I said with a small laugh. "I would know, I've eaten one."

Y/N nearly jumped before she darted over toward me, her hands grabbing at my shoulders. She still had a slice of half-chewed apple in her mouth which made her struggle to properly speak. "WHAT? You- NO! You didn't?!" She let go of my arms and instead planted her hands on my chest, shoving me back. I collapsed back against the bed, laughing. "You ate one?!"

"Years ago, when I was fifteen."

"You're lying!"

"I'm not. It was a mistake actually."

"What happened?"

I chuckled and pushed myself back up. "Give me an orange and I'll tell you."

If my reflexes weren't so quick, the fruit would've hit me in the face with how quick she threw it. But I caught it and began to pick apart the peel. "Easy, next time," I smirked and took a bite from it. "Well, when I was younger and was a pirate-in-training, the crew I was in raided this ginormous ship and hit the motherload. Not only gold and jewels and anything you could think of, but there was also a devil fruit. I found out how much they were worth and tried to steal it but I was caught in a predicament and I tried to hide it in my mouth."

"And?"

"I swallowed it whole."

She gasped, "And you're alive?"

"It doesn't kill you. It just takes your ability to swim when you're in the ocean, in salt water. It's like the sea turned its back on you."

"Did you get a power from it?"

I shrugged and winked at her, taking another bite. I licked the juices from my hand. "Guess."

"You can fly?"

"Ha! Nope."

"Read minds?"

"It's body-altering."

"Wait," The lovely maiden smirked, taking a seat on the bed. "Did it give you that red nose?" She snickered.

"Guess again," I said flatly, my expression turning cold as I stared at her. She gulped, clenching her jaw. I laughed and looked down at my lap, now using one hand to hold the orange. I continued to chew on it. But while she was distracted with her numerous attempts to guess what kind of body-altering power I had, I detached my left hand at the wrist. It floated behind the both of us and tapped on her right shoulder. Y/N jumped up, her head shooting to look at her side. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows furrowed together before she spotted my floating hand waving at her. She gasped and slapped it away. I broke out into a fit of laughter, my hand reconnecting to my wrist. "Impressive, huh?"

"You- what?" She was still flabbergasted.

"I ate the chop-chop fruit. It allows me to pretty much chop any part of my body. Like I can-" To avoid grossing her out, I chopped my left leg from my thigh instead of my head from my neck. She watched in amazement. I smiled at this. "I can disconnect anything from my body from my toes to my ears to my-"

"Even... ya know?"

I winked. "Oh, yeah. That, too."

"That's so cool. How come you haven't done it before around me?"

"I don't know. I just never found a reason to." Shrugging my shoulders, I allowed my leg to snap back. I continued to chew on the orange before finishing it and tossing the peel into a small bin to the left of the bedside table. Y/N finished hers as well. She wiped her hands down on her shirt.

"So, uh," I chewed on my bottom lip. "Do you think you and your mother will be okay?"

"Yeah. We fight all the time. Her drinking doesn't help."

I cringed. "Really?"

"Yeah, she's one of the reasons I hate it so much."

I pursed my lips and nodded my head. I knew I needed to cut back on it but it was something I've done for well over more than half my life. Though, I was destined to do it. Not only for myself, but for her, too. I'd do anything for Y/N. "So," I began, "what do you want to do today?"

"I need to go make up with my mother. That's a big to-do. I can't stand her ever being upset with me." The girl said as she stood up, slipping her shoes back onto her feet. "We can have dinner tonight if you want. Maybe you could meet her."

"Meet your mom?"

"Yeah, why not? She was wondering where all that money came from. She thought I stole it."

"Hell, I don't know. I'm not good with meeting new people."

"Will you, at least, consider it?"

"Sure," I smirked.

"Thank you." Y/N reached for the doorknob, giving it a strong and firm tug before it yanked open. A gush of cold wind washed over her, almost knocking her back. I tossed her my coat to which she whispered another 'thank you' then slipped it on. "I'll see you, Buggy."

"Bye," I murmured with a smile.

As soon as the door shut, I jumped down from the bed and pulled the drawer out from the nightstand, dropping it on the stone floor. I sorted through the numerous books and grabbed the novel I was so fucking thankful she didn't look through. As I opened the cover, the hollowed book had contents that almost spilled out. Papers among papers, among sketches fell out, wafting along the floor. Several notes about Y/N puddled on the floor. One, which was my favorite, was a letter I wrote to her- well, I refused to send it. If I sent it, any last fiber of my confidence would be crushed like a scrambled egg. My fingers lined the rigid edges as I unfolded it.

Messy paragraphs lined both the front and back of the page.

I smiled. How long ago did I write this? I haven't looked at it in so long. I usually added a sentence to it each time I saw Y/N, which is why it was so long. But I stopped pouring my thoughts and desires into it when I actually had the pleasure of speaking to her.

If she saw this, I would kill myself.

I'd purposely jump into the ocean with two anchors attached to my feet.

I looked over the first paragraph,

'I've never wanted something so badly in my life. To say I yearned for her would be a complete understatement. I longed for her, I yearned, I desired- In simple terms, I wanted her. I mean, how could I not? She was an angel. She was a siren. I would purposely listen to her enchanting song, allowing my boat to crash, just if it meant I could be graced by her presence, by her beauty. I was obsessed with her. If she found out my thoughts, my desires, she would never let herself be seen with me. I wouldn't blame her, though. I was obsessive. It was unhealthy, I knew that. But I didn't care. I wouldn't say I loved her because I didn't know what that felt like. I've never experienced it. But perhaps I did love her. I didn't know, I couldn't tell. All I knew was that she was the only treasure I wanted. Not the One Piece, no. Not even that could match up to her alluring person. If I had to travel every sea in order to find her, battle every sea snake in order to touch her, I would. I would in a heartbeat.'

I grimaced, cringing at what I was reading. Thank god, she didn't see this. I didn't even want to see this.

I tucked the papers back into the hollowed-out book, closing it. I slipped the other novels into the drawer then slid it into the nightstand. With the book of secrets, I needed to hide it somewhere she could never find it- where even I struggled to find it. I didn't want to throw it out for I would be completely discarding all of those moments we had together, although she couldn't reconcile them with me because at that time, I was nonexistent to her.

Maybe I could follow my own idea and form my own message in a bottle. I never mentioned her name, nor my own. To an outsider's perspective, it was anonymous.

I shook my head and slipped the book back into the bedside table. She wouldn't be back anytime soon so I had enough time to properly execute a fool-proof plan.

But right now?

I needed to go get another coat.

-=-

her pov;

My mother and I resolved things, just like always. And when she caught wind of a pirate suddenly becoming very fond of me, she begged me to invite him over for dinner. I didn’t think that was the best of ideas. Going out to dinner? Sure! But to have him over? At our house? I cringed at the idea.

She fell ill months ago. Nothing too major, but ever since she’s gotten better, she despises leaving the house and even made me bring her bed downstairs so she could sleep next to the kitchen just in case she had a hankering for something to eat. It was ridiculous, I knew that. But I couldn’t just tell her no. She was my own mother. While I was old enough, I definitely wasn't going to willingly disobey her.

She persisted that I go and grab Buggy so we could have him over for dinner, while I insisted we all go out to eat. She hated the idea and told me that it was her house, her rules.

I grimaced at the thought.

Now, I was just outside Buggy's home, knocking on the stone door. I hoped he was home, though there was no possibility of me being able to ask him prior to my arrival. I knew he was busy. He was a very busy man. I was surprised he made time for me.

With another knock, another silence fell. I groaned and backed up.

My eyes trailing down, I stared at the doorknob and chewed on my bottom lip. He wouldn't care if I waited inside, right? We trusted each other. He knew where I lived and I knew where he lived. As far as I knew, he never crossed any of my boundaries and I definitely didn't cross any of his- well, except for maybe 'snooping' through his nightstand.

Without thinking too much more about it, I grabbed the rusted doorknob, gave it a firm twist, then shoved it open. I almost fell through the doorway.

I caught my balance and stepped inside, closing the door behind me. Without the lantern being lit, it was rather dark, but the bright blue sky helped to illuminate the small room. He must've not been home since I left.

I looked around, admiring everything.

As I took a seat on the edge of the bed, I noticed a piece of paper laying on the floor. It wasn't there before.

I raised an eyebrow and reached to grab it but before I could, the door flung open, a certain blue-haired pirate standing in the entrance. When he noticed me, he smirked. I gulped.

"So, we're breaking and entering, are we?" The man grinned as he took a few paces forward.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, scratching the back of my neck. "I came over to ask you about dinner but you weren't here so I figured I would wait."

"No worries, I'm only teasing."

"So?" I folded my arms, leaning forwards.

"So what?" Buggy questioned as he slipped his coat off. Since when did he get a new coat? And why? I was only borrowing the one he lent me. I didn't plan on keeping it. But I guess now it was okay if I did.

"Dinner? Are you available?"

"Hmm, it depends. What time?"

"I don't know, sometime tonight? Only for two hours or so. My mother wanted to meet you. I told her about you."

"What did you tell her?"

"That you've been a friend of mine for a few weeks now and you've been fortunate enough to treat me and help me out," I said with a smile. "She thought you were my boyfriend." I chuckled.

"Heh, that's rich," Buggy said as he turned around to close the door.

"So? Can you?"

"I guess so. Just don't leave me alone with her. I really don't want to be bombarded with questions." The man said as he folded the jacket over his arm then slung it on the countertop. "Did you tell her about my nose?"

I laughed, confused. "No? Why would I?"

"It's my defining feature. It's hard not to notice it when you see me."

"I didn't tell her. I didn't think it was important. I even forget it's there."

The clown burst out in laughter, his eyes closing as he clutched his stomach and nearly fell back with his fit of giggles. I pursed my lips. "What's so funny?" I asked as I crossed my arms.

"It's cute how you're trying to be nice to me. With a nose like mine, how can you forget it's there?" He replied while wiping a tear from his eye.

I felt flustered with the first part of his monologue but I ignored it and shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know, I just do. It's not all I see whenever I look at you, ya know. It's not my main focus point when we speak. I look at your eyes, not your nose."

"And yet again, you prove to me that you're different than others."

I smiled. "Hope that's a good thing."

Buggy smirked, winking his left eye. "Of course it is."

The pirated approached me before he knelt down and picked up the piece of paper. He examined it for a moment then laughed to himself. "Grocery list," He explained as he shoved the paper into his pocket.

I paid no attention to the paper. It wasn't any of my business. "Speaking of groceries, want to go help me get food for dinner?"

"What's on the menu?"

"No idea, but let's just grab something so she won't be bitching later."

"Guess I'll be needing this again," The blue-haired man said as he reached to grab his jacket. He slipped his arms through and adjusted the collar. "We match now."

"Mine's more vintage than yours." I winked.

"Oh, so it's yours now?"

"No?" I gulped.

Buggy giggled. "It is. I got my own now so no worries about giving it back. Unless you'd like to trade from time to time."

"No, I like this one."

The man looked at me, an eyebrow cocked upward.

I paid his look no attention and instead looked down at the tattered suede coat I wore. I inhaled softly. It smelled like him.

A soft odor mixed with whiskey, coconut, and cinnamon. And while I hated the stench of alcohol, it worked for him.

I couldn't imagine him without it.

[solarmorrigan]

If you’re still taking prompts, could I ask for “please come get me” with Steddie?

I’ve read over all your other angst prompts and just about died this morning, you’re so good at the pain!!

Hello! :D Thank you for the prompt! I'm afraid this one is a little heavier on the comfort than the hurt, so perhaps not as much pain, but if you've been binging what I've written so far, maybe that's a good thing?? But anyway, I hope this is alright!

[Warning for implied child neglect/emotional abuse. Nothing really happens in the fic, but just as a heads up]

Angsty-ish Prompt List

-

Eddie shouldn’t be hearing this. This isn’t a conversation meant for spectators.

“I know you just got back from a trip, I just–” Harrington says into the receiver of the payphone, clinging to the handset as he practically wilts against the useless ‘privacy wall’ next to it. “I’m sorry, I was just hoping you could give me a ride home.”

All Eddie had wanted to do was cut the pep rally like any self-respecting social outcast would, except he couldn’t just ditch and go home; it’s Friday, and he has Hellfire after this. But the last thing he’d expected while loitering around outside, waiting for the pep rally to end, had been to stumble across Steve Harrington on the phone, practically begging someone for a ride home.

“No, I drove myself here today, I’m just not sure I can drive home.” Harrington pauses, then sighs. “No, Dad, this is a pep rally, I haven’t been drinking.” Whatever comes down the line next makes his posture snap straight almost immediately, before he hunches back in on himself with a wince and a hand pressed to his forehead. “No, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

This is weird. This is so weird. Harrington is meant to be cocky – confident and in-charge and at ease, not curled around a payphone in the same way a kicked puppy tries to protect itself even as it asks someone for more attention.

Someone who is apparently his dad.

It’s just – weird. It’s like how you know a lemon is a citrus fruit, just the same as an orange, but the second you peel off the rind, you feel like you’ve seen something forbidden. Lemons aren’t meant to be peeled that way, and Harrington isn’t meant to look close to tears while trying to get someone to drive him home.

“I – I’m sick. I mean, it’s – I have a migraine,” Harrington explains haltingly. “No, it’s not just – yeah, my head hurts, but if it was just that, I swear I wouldn’t bother you, I just – I’m dizzy, and my vision’s all blurry, so I’m not sure I can drive, and I don’t…”

Shit, that sounds kind of fucked up. Eddie frowns, leaning against the wall he’s been peering around, now definitely intentionally eavesdropping. Harrington is frowning, too, rubbing a frustrated hand over his face.

“Tommy and I don’t hang out anymore, we haven’t in over a year,” Harrington says, then carries on a little more quietly, a little more subdued, “and there isn’t really anyone else here I can catch a ride with, either.”

Eddie will admit he hasn’t been paying a whole lot of attention, but anyone who doesn’t live under a rock knows that Harrington’s popularity had taken a bit of a hit last year, when he’d ditched Hagan and Perkins and decided to be a bit less of a dick. And then this year – well, even if Hargrove hadn’t crowed enough about the fight between the two of them, the state of Harrington’s face back in November had spoken volumes. Still, Eddie hadn’t been aware the condition of Harrington’s social life was so dire.

“I’m not – I’m not making this up, the doctor talked to you about this, he– I’m not trying to talk back, I just– Dad, please, can you just – please, come get me,” Harrington stutters through what sounds very much like a losing argument before going silent altogether, pressing one hand over his eyes as he lets his head hang, the other still holding the handset near his ear. “I understand,” he says dully after a minute. “I’m sorry. I’ll – I’ll figure it out… Yes, sir.”

It doesn’t seem like there’s much left to say after that. Harrington hangs up the phone and leans up against the adjacent wall before sliding down and sitting himself right there on the ground, knees drawn up and face in his hands.

Shit.

Eddie ducks back around the corner, gnawing on his lip, caught in indecision. He shouldn’t have overheard any of that, intentionally or otherwise, but now that he has, he can’t just – not do something.

Can he?

He tries to tell himself it’s not his problem, that Harrington’s certainly never done him any favors, even if he’d never been a dick to Eddie specifically, but it doesn’t work. All Eddie can see is the defeated slump of Harrington’s shoulders, the helpless way he’d just sort of dropped to the ground, the way he’d quietly admitted there’s no one else he can ask for a ride – Eddie’s always had a soft spot for the lonely ones.

But when he rounds the corner, prepared to come up with some bullshit excuse as to why he’s out here and willing to drive Harrington home, he finds that Harrington is – gone.

Eddie glances around, but he doesn’t seem to be anywhere. Poof, vanished while Eddie had been too busy trying to decide what to do.

Well, damn.

Distantly hoping that Harrington had, indeed, figured something out, Eddie tries to put the incident out of his mind. The pep rally will be over soon, and that means Hellfire will begin, and he needs to get his head in the game.

He has no real reason to think on the incident after that, and he’s fairly successful at shoving it somewhere into the back of his mind until nearly two years later, in a setting so far removed from that spring day at the school that it might as well be in another life.

Eddie has to extricate himself from a few fans (actual fans; apparently, rumors of Satanism and returning form the dead will do wonders for the reputation of your metal band) in order to get up from the table settled near the back of The Hideout. Gareth, Jeff, and Oliver are all accounted for, enjoying their drinks and chatting with whoever’s descended upon them after their set, but Steve had disappeared ten minutes ago and has yet to make a reappearance.

Ten minutes isn’t all that long, Eddie knows logically, but after last year, after everything, it still feels a little too long. If he finds Steve and Steve tells him he’s fine, then that’s great, Eddie will leave him be. But he just wants to check.

The bathroom is a bust, empty but for one drunk swaying precariously in front of a urinal, so Eddie heads outside, where, around the side of the building, settled on the ground in a triangle of sodium-glow orange thrown off by a nearby streetlight, he finds his quarry.

Steve is sitting with his back to the rough wood façade of the bar, his knees drawn up in front of him and his head leaned back against the wall behind him. His eyes are closed, but there’s a little pinch of tension between his brows, and Eddie is abruptly reminded of that day, eons ago and not really that long ago at all, when all Steve had wanted was for someone to care enough to give him a ride home when he’d been sick.

Eddie finds his ass on the concrete right next to Steve before he even has the conscious thought to go over and sit down.

“Doing okay, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, picking up one of Steve’s hands from where it’s resting on his own knee (it’s safe enough right here, Eddie knows; someone would have to actively be looking for them to spot them where they’re tucked away).

If Steve is surprised to find Eddie beside him, he doesn’t show it. He turns to look at Eddie in the low light, offering him a fond little smile.

“I’m good. It was just getting to be a little much in there, so I came out here for a break,” he says.

Things like excessive noise and heat—say, the likes of which might be experienced at a concert in a crowded bar (or maybe a high school pep rally)—tend to be migraine triggers for Steve, so why he continues attending shows at The Hideout is beyond Eddie. He’s tried telling him that he doesn’t have to come, but Steve still insists he wants to make it to every performance that he can.

Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand. “You wanna head out?”

Steve shakes his head. “You’re having a good time. I don’t want to take you away from that.”

“I’m not going to be having a good time if you’re miserable.” Eddie reaches up and cups Steve’s cheek in his hand, keeping him facing in Eddie’s direction. “You’re a priority for me, you know that, right? Say the word, and we’ll go home.”

It doesn’t seem like Steve has anything to say to that; instead, he just stares at Eddie with something like wonder, as if Eddie’s just done anything more amazing than promise Steve that he’ll never have to beg for basic consideration.

“Besides,” Eddie goes on, if for no other reason than to shift the sudden weight of Steve’s reverence, “it’s not like it would be a hardship.” He leans in, pressing a kiss to Steve’s willing mouth before he continues, speaking so close that their lips are brushing. “Getting to take you home, take you to bed, lie there in the dark, just the two of us…”

Steve presses in for another kiss, long and lingering, before pulling away.

“Let’s stay a little longer,” he says. “Jeff owes me a beer, anyway.”

“Y’know,” Eddie pauses with a grunt of effort as Steve stands and uses their joined hands to pull Eddie up after him, “the only reason you knew the movie he was referencing—and, thus, the only reason he owes you a beer—is because I made you watch it.”

“And? What do you want, a medal?” Steve snarks.

“Well,” Eddie drawls, glancing Steve up and down, “some token of appreciation wouldn’t be remiss.”

Steve raises an unimpressed eyebrow at Eddie. “It would be if we did it in the alley next to a bar.”

“Wow, Harrington, mind in the gutter much? I only meant a beer,” Eddie sniffs, all exaggerated offense.

“Sure you did,” Steve says. “Now c’mon; one more beer, and then… home?”

“You got it, sweetheart,” Eddie says, offering one more quick kiss in hopes of putting any hesitation out of Steve’s mind. “One more beer, and then home.”

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 19th: Scifi/tech | Electric Eye - Judas Priest | Bewildered a/n: eddie pov, eddie & dustin friendship, dustin & steve friendship, and an excuse for me to weasel one of my favorite steve headcanons into something. un-betaed because I'm challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 + masterpost | tumblr masterlist

After his release from the hospital and the unfortunate news that his trailer had been destroyed, Eddie goes from functionally homeless to having multiple spaces that feel like home. 

He’s been all but adopted by Claudia at this point, an offer extended immediately after hearing the version of the story everyone’s agreed upon— that the ground split open and Eddie nearly ate it pushing Dustin out of the way. It’s not quite the truth, but the theme is the same and anyone who’s willing to sacrifice themself for her son is welcome any time. 

Especially when he’s been called upon to help with Dustin’s science fair project. It’s out of Eddie’s league a bit, the actual science part, but he and his mechanical brain prove helpful. Kinda nice, actually, to use those hotwiring skills for good. 

Of course, it also helps that the government set him and Wayne up in a modest two bedroom house down the road, and that Eddie can practically smell Claudia's cooking when the windows are open. Like Garfield, he’s drawn to the Henderson house with the scent of a fresh lasagna. 

Bellies full and completed project sitting confidently on the kitchen table for tomorrow, they’re watching Star Wars movies in Dustin’s living room, one after another, and he feels just a touch like a traitor. Star Trek will always have his heart and Wayne can never know. 

“How’d you get into Star Wars anyways?” Eddie asks, sprawled across Dustin’s couch. 

“Can you believe Steve actually got me into them?” Dustin replies, curled up on the recliner. 

There’s an infinite number of ways a child might be introduced to the Star Wars franchise— a parent, a trailer before another movie, a carrier pigeon dropping a flier at their fucking feet— and they’re all more believable than Steve Harrington introducing Dustin Henderson to the sci-fi epic. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie turns with wide eyes and a crooked grin to face Dustin. “What?”

“I know, right? It was uh, okay this is a little embarrassing.” Dustin cuts himself off, justifying some secret Eddie somehow hasn’t been told yet. 

He knows about the Mind Flayer and the Russians, and all the other Dungeons and Dragons lore that’d lived beneath his feet for years. What could possibly be left to make Dustin cringe like that? 

“Oh, do tell.” Eddie raises an eyebrow and gestures with an arm towards the expanse of space between them. “Floor is yours, young Bard. Spin the tale.”

Dustin rolls his eyes and throws popcorn at him. He tries to catch it in his mouth but he’s never been that coordinated. 

“It’s not really a tale. A few years ago, there was this school dance, the Snow Ball. I got all amped up, Steve helped with my hair, and then the night was a total fucking dud. Nancy danced with me which was like, super awesome of her, but I felt like shit after anyways.”

Eddie listens with rapt attention, pissed off that Dustin had such a relatable middle school experience and intrigued at this new sliver of Steve lore. Not that he cares. Obviously. Why would he? The idea of Steve helping Dustin get ready for the Snow Ball doesn’t conjure up words like adorable at all. 

He nods him on. 

“And uh, I called Steve the next day. He came over and we had pizza and he brought some of his favorite movies he thought I’d like. Star Wars had spaceships so obviously, easy choice. And here we are now with Return of the Jedi.” 

Okay, yep, that’s gonna be hard to tamp down the next time he sees Steve. Stomping his ill-advised crush into the ground beneath his Rebooks has been hard enough but now? Motherfucker. 

It’s also not lost on him that Dustin chose these movies today. Eddie feels like he’s stepping into some tradition that doesn’t belong to him, but he can’t squash the kid’s enthusiasm with his own insecurity. 

Instead, Eddie goes for the low hanging fruit.  

“Wow. Gotta tell you man, that’s maybe weirder than finding out about the monsters and shit. Steve’s favorite movie is Return of the Jedi?” 

Dustin snorts and laughs, toothless and free. Happiness isn’t new for Dustin, not anymore, but it’s still nice to see after all they’ve been through. 

“Well, that’s one of them. He always calls it ‘the ones with the teddy bears’, so people assume he means Return of the Jedi. But I know the truth. That dork loves Caravan of Courage.”

Eddie flips through his mental catalog of sci-fi movies and lands on a VHS cover: a couple of humans, a few Ewoks, and something that looks like a machine gun. If he remembers correctly, it has something of a cult following but wasn’t touted as a high point in the series. 

… And it’s Steve’s favorite. The one with the teddy bears. 

“Wait… what?!”

[multi-fandom-of-madness]

for flufftober.. would it be possible to have day 6 be with swiss x reader?? idk i fell like even tho swiss is usually dancing all feral and shit on stage, he’d also be good at other forms of dancing? like i see him being able to do all that cutesy romantic dancing and dipping the reader and all that:( anywho- idk if you’ve already gotten a request for that one and if you have, you can go with that one cause i know this one is extremely late. i just saw that prompt and immediately thought of swiss being able to do shit from salsa dancing to waltzes to jazz. idk man. he just gives those vibes… maybe even classically trained? ANYWAYS IM SO SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG AHHH <333

Step On Your Toes

Flufftober Day 6: Dancing together

Pairings: Mountain X Reader X Swiss (Implied Poly!Ghouls X Reader)

Type: Fluff

Summary: Reader plans on surprising Swiss for his birthday with a dance, yet cannot dance to save their life. Mountain is more than happy to help.

Warnings: Light drinking, a bit of self-doubt

Word Count: 2,390

Notes: Read here on ao3. Find my flufftober prompt list here. Okay, so I absolutely loved both of these ideas, so I'm realllyyy hoping y'all are cool with me merging them :) Songs mentioned: Summertime Sadness by Lana Del Ray & Grow As We Go by Ben Platt. Second prompt under the cut for space reasons :)

~

“Ouch,” Mountain whispered as you once again stepped on his toes.

You sighed and dropped your hands, backing away from the tall ghoul. “I’m sorry…I don’t think I can do this. That’s what now? Eight times? I just want to surprise Swiss with a cute little dance, but all I can do is step on your toes.”

“Hey now, we have plenty of time to practice before the party. I’ll help you get this right,” he assured, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“But I haven’t been able to, and Swiss’s birthday is in less than a week. It’s my first year that I get to spend his birthday with him, and I want it to be perfect.”

Mountain pulled you into a hug, resting his chin on your head. “Swiss loves you whether or not you can dance. That ghoul is just insanely talented and a show-off. He isn’t going to love you less if you step on his toes.” His hand rubbed your back in a soothing manner.

“I don’t want to step on his toes. I want this to go smoothly.”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay not to surprise him with a dance if you’re that worried about it,” he offered.

“But I want to. I just…I don’t know…I feel like I’ll make a fool out of myself,” you said in a whisper as you walked over to the corner of the practice room to grab your water bottle.

Mountain chuckles, pulling you back against him, hugging you tightly. “Now, now, if anyone will make a fool out of themselves, my bets are all on Dewdrop and Phantom. You’ll be the least of everyone’s worries,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your head. “A few mistakes can’t throw a wrench in your plans. Plus, stepping on his feet a few times won’t ruin the dance. You were so determined to get this right when you initially asked for my help. Where’d that spirit go?”

“Probably the same place that my ability to dance went,” you mumbled as he began to sway while holding onto you. He hummed as if he were considering something. “What are you plotting?”

“How about this?” He spun you around, lifting you with ease and placing both of your feet on the tops of his. “I will move, and you will let your body move with mine. This way, I can teach you how to move the right way, then you can try it without me guiding you. How does that sound?”

You look up with a concerned look. “Do you actually think this is going to help at all?”

“Maybe…maybe not,” he shrugs. “And if it doesn’t, then we’ll think of something else to surprise Swiss,” he offered, holding you against his chest as he stared at you, his green eyes showing nothing but kindness.

“Maybe I can just get him a cat.”

“He already has Dewdrop. We don’t need another one,” Mountain teased. “Will you at least try my idea?” He asked, a slight pout on his face.

“Alright…alright, we can try it,” you sighed, giving in. You felt silly doing this, but there was a part of you that wanted this to work.

Mountain pulled his phone from his pocket and pressing play on a slow song, beginning to sway at first before moving his feet to the beat.

It wasn’t the song you intended to use with Swiss, but Mountain had a playlist of slow, mostly cheesy, romantic songs that he played while dancing in the rain or in the greenhouse with Rain.

“Summertime Sadness?” You questioned as the first notes rang through.

Mountain let out a laugh. “Hey, it’s a good song. Not every song on my playlist has to be heavy metal,” he said, moving his feet in a consistent pattern.

“The big, scary, earth ghoul is a Lana fan. Who would’ve guessed?” You teased as he danced around the room with you.

“I only know a few of her songs. Can’t lie and say they aren’t good, though,” he grinned, glad to see your mind on something other than the dancing. That only lasted a few minutes when you looked down to see his steps. He let out a gentle ‘tsk’, taking one hand off your hip to tilt your chin to look at him. “Eyes on me, love,” he whispered. “Let your body feel the beat, not your mind.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just feel,” he said as if that alone made perfect sense, placing his hand back on your hip.

“Earth ghouls…cryptic little creatures,” you huffed, trying to keep your eyes up.

“I am anything but little,” he scoffed.

“Yeah, okay, you aren’t little, but you’re still cryptic as hell.”

“I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.”

“Whatever floats your boat,” you laugh. He holds you close as you both move to the music. He has one hand on your waist and the other holding your hand. It’s sweet and simple, and you almost forget that you’re not moving yourself.

At one point he sets you on the ground, and there’s a small look of panic in your eyes before he spins you. He lets you twirl once, guided by his hand, then puts a hand on your waist, dips you, and gives you a chaste kiss. He grins as he pulls you back to stand on his feet.

“What was that for?”

“What? Can’t kiss my favorite human?” He chuckles, continuing to move along to the music.

“Well, you can. I just wasn’t expecting it,” you confess, laughing with him.

The song comes to an end and both of you just stand there, not quite moving. “Want to try another song like this, or do you want to try it without me guiding you?”

You pause to think, weighing the options. “What if we do two more songs like this, take a break, then let me try it on my own.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he smiles, already pressing play on the next song.

—

The night of the party comes rather quickly. You and Mountain had been practicing for a few hours each day, determined to get this dance down.

The room feels like it’s practically alive. People are dancing, talking, and drinking. There’s some sort of upbeat song playing. Even the decorations add an extra buzz. Truly a party designed for the lively multi-ghoul.

You were in the corner, sipping a glass of champagne, and practically freaking out. Mountain had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, trying to comfort you.

“You’re too tense,” he said gently. “You did phenomenal yesterday. Didn’t even step on my toes once.”

“I know, but that was practicing. And with you. Swiss is…such a good dancer. I’m pretty sure he knows every dance ever created. I’m going to embarrass myself.”

“You’re not going to embarrass yourself. I promise. No one will even notice if you mess up because if you mess up–”

“–when I mess up.”

“–if you mess up, he’ll cover for you and make sure no one knows that it was you. Trust me, he’ll guide you through it if he has to, but you’ll do amazing,” he assures.

“I don’t know…this just feels like a mistake.”

“Look at me,” he says, tilting your head up. “He’s going to love it. He’ll be thrilled that you even made the attempt if this ends horribly. He loves you, and nothing will change that.”

You sigh, staring at the bubbles in your glass. “I know…I just want this to be good.”

“It will be. You need to stop doubting yourself,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Swiss walks over with an excited grin. He’s dressed up - as is everyone else - but has a silly cone on his head, strapped to his chin that reads ‘Birthday Boy’ that Phantom and Aurora made him. “Well hello, lovebirds,” he laughs, throwing an arm around you. 

You smile and press a kiss to his cheek. “Happy birthday, Swiss.”

“Are you two enjoying yourselves?” He asks, looking between you and Mountain, taking a sip of whatever was in his cup.

“I am, don’t know about this one,” Mountain teases, which gets him an elbow to the ribs.

Swiss looks down at you, a look of confusion on his face. “Now why is that?”

“No reason,” you say, taking a sip of champagne and giving Mountain a dirty look for saying something.

“Oh come on, you can’t not have a good time at my party. It’s my birthday,” he pouts. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“What’s wrong is that Mountain can’t keep his mouth shut.”

Mountain chuckles. “Guilty as charged.”

“No, seriously, is something wrong?” Swiss asks, he takes his arm from around your face to look at you face to face, trying to gauge your true feelings.

“It’s nothing important, Swiss. I swear.”

“Pinky promise?” He lifts his hand, making a fist, and extending his pinky.

You interlock your pinky with his. “Pinky promise,” you assure.

You chat for a few more minutes until Swiss gets called away by another guest. Mountain turns toward you with a skeptical look.

“So when are you planning on bringing him out for the dance exactly?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I guess when it feels right.”

“You worked yourself up, didn’t you?”

“What? No,” you said with playful denial, taking a sip of champagne to avoid eye contact.

“I’m not letting you leave this room until you dance with him,” he persists, taking the glass from you. “You worked so hard, and he’s going to absolutely love to see you surprise him.”

“I really don’t-”

“Nope. No more ‘I don’t’ or ‘I can’t’,” he interrupts. “You really should pull him aside, and ask him to dance. You don’t need to keep doubting yourself.”

“You’re right,” you sigh. “Are you sure he won’t laugh if I embarrass myself?”

“Did I?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, well that was just practicing. He’s not going to laugh.”

“Fine. Alright, I’ll go talk to him.”

“Good,” Mountain says, grabbing your waist and kissing the top of your head. “You’re going to do great. I believe in you.”

“Thank you, Mountain.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Go knock ‘em dead,” he grins, pushing you in the direction of Swiss.

You swallow the lump in your throat, then walk over to Swiss who’s in a conversation with Rain and Cirrus.

All of the ghoul’s knew about your surprise, except Swiss of course, so Rain and Cirrus exchanged a knowing look, ready to let you take Swiss away.

“Hey, do you mind if I steal this one?” You asked, slightly hesitant, putting a hand on Swiss’s shoulder.

“By all means,” Rain smirks, taking Swiss’s glass and party hat, then pulling Cirrus away.

You take a shaky breath, then pull Swiss to the dance floor as the opening to Grow As We Go begins.

“What are you doing?” Swiss asks with a slight smile. You move one of his hands to your waist, wrap that hand around his neck, then hold the other in your free hand.

“Surprising you?” You offer, beginning to sway to the music and trying to move your feet in the way Mountain taught you.

“You know you’re supposed to watch your dancing partner, not your feet, right?” He teases.

You look up, a slightly worried expression. “I’m sorry,” you say with a slight frown.

“Are you worried you’re going to step on my toes?”

“A bit…I haven’t been able to do this without stepping on Mountain’s at least once.”

“So that’s where you two have been sneaking off to,” he grins. “If it makes you feel better, my feet are much smaller than his.”

You laugh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. He’s been helping me for the past few weeks. I know you really like you to dance, and that you’re really good at it, so I figured I would try to surprise you.”

“Well, you’re doing a great job so far. You’ve only stepped on my toes once.”

“I did? Oh, I’m sorry,” you frown, looking back at your feet.

He grabs your chin and smiles at you. “Hey, did I complain? No, I didn’t, so let me see those beautiful eyes.”

A shy smile comes over your face. “I’m sorry, I just…really want this to be perfect.”

“The fact that you felt comfortable enough to do this for me makes this perfect as is. You’re perfect,” he says softly.

The crowd is watching, but neither of you seem to care. It’s just a moment for the two of you. You bring yourself closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder.

“You’re doing amazing, you know,” he whispers, resting his head on top of yours.

You hum in acknowledgement and sway to the music. It seems to fade out, like the only thing happening in the room is Swiss holding you close. It’s the perfect moment.

He begins to hum along with the song, then pushes you away to spin you just as Mountain had done many times before. You let him twirl you before he wrapped you back in his arms with your back to his chest, pressing a kiss to your jaw. You giggled as his facial hair tickled your cheek.

He smiled and let out a light laugh. “You look amazing tonight.”

“I really should be the one complimenting you, birthday boy.”

He laughed again. “It’s my birthday, I can do what I want.”

He spun you out once more as the song began to wrap up. Holding you by the waist, he bent you back, planting a sweet, yet passionate kiss to your lips as the song ended. When he brought you upright, he was holding your cheek as he continued to kiss you.

“Thank you,” he whispered, keeping his face close to yours and staring into your eyes.

“I love you, Swiss. Happy birthday,” you said as you pressed another kiss to his lips.

He wrapped you in his arms, pulling you into a tight hug. “I love you so much, sweetheart. This was truly an incredible surprise,” he said, squeezing you against him.

“I’m glad you liked it,” you smile, wrapping your arms around him and returning the hug.

“And guess what?” He pulls away, a playful grin on his face.

“What?”

“You only stepped on my toes three times.”

[oldmannapping]

Trigger warning: Discussion of past sexual assualt and mention of domestic violence (fictional).

HC: Dick donates one of his Nightwing suits to a What Were You Wearing exhibit to destigmatise male rape.

He does a single interview with a carefully-vetted reporter in response to the media explosion.

Exerpt below.

Reporter: Despite your flashy and talkative superhero persona, you've actually been quite good at keeping details of your personal life close to the vest for all these years.

Nightwing: (chuckle) Yeah, that's a pretty big part of having a secret identity. Talk lots, say nothing. When in doubt, throw in a pun or two.

Reporter: So after, what is it, ten, fifteen years of being a public figure-

Nightwing: More than twenty, now.

Reporter: Twenty! Gosh you're making me feel old.

Nightwing: Me too.

Reporter: So after more than two decades of being in the public eye as Nightwing, you've chosen to reveal a part of your life, some would say arguably one of the most vulnerable and private parts of your life. Why now?

Nightwing: It definitely wasn't a quick decision. I think that for any survivor of crime, it's important that they take time to heal and process things. Particularly for something like rape or domestic assualt, so much agency is taken away from you and I think for me, owning my story was a really important part of feeling like I could take control back.

Reporter: And you wanted to take control in a way that helped other people.

Nightwing: Not at first. I wasn't- It wasn't something I immediately thought like, "Oh, now I can relate to victims better on the job, how can I use this for good" kind of thing. I was really- For a long time, like years, I just wanted to pretend it didn't happen. Like it was the same as any other injury I'd get being Nightwing, or Robin, or whatever, like it wasn't any different.

Reporter: But it was different.

Nightwing: Yeah. I mean for one thing, it wasn't really an injury. I mean, there's no such thing as luck here, or being more raped or less raped, but in my case, I didn't have physical injuries. I wasn't- it wasn't like I was overpowered and beaten or anything like that. So I didn't feel like there was anything to "recover" from, if that makes sense. And I think there's also a lot of shame that went along with that, as a man, as a superhero, as someone who's used to being the strong one and the one who protects people, there was a lot of shame I felt. Like, if this was really rape then it would have been more violent, and I'd have been able to fight her off, and my body wouldn't have responded... All of that.

Reporter: All things that I'm sure you've heard from other victims, over the years.

Nightwing: Yeah. And that's something, I didn't want to be a victim. That wasn't- Nobody wants to be a victim, but I've spent most of my life helping people and being the hero, so it was impossible for me, for a long time, to do that cognitive shift and think of myself as both. Like, yes I'm a hero, yes I'm strong, and yes I was also assaulted and yes I need help to deal with this.

Reporter: So it was a long time before you told anyone.

Nightwing: Yeah. It was actually my broth- It was someone in my family, who noticed some things I said and some ways that I acted, and confronted me about it.

Reporter: Confronted?

Nightwing: Yeah. That's how it felt, anyway. I was really defensive at first. I was still in denial and wasn't really in a place to talk about it.

Reporter: But you did.

Nightwing: Well, he didn't really give me a choice, ha. It was- and you can cut this out later, if he doesn't want me to say it- but it was Red Hood. He's got a lot of experience with survivors and he's stubborn as shit so I didn't stand a chance. I think part of me also, I think I was ready to tell someone. I think I needed to accept what had happened.

Reporter: So it was the right time for some tough love.

Nightwing: Some tough brotherly love, yeah.

[teenandbeyond]

could i request a part 3 of your yautja x reader series ! its such a good read ive been catching myself going back and rereading it all over again !

Yautja x Fem. Reader Pt.3

Decided to kill two birds with one stone for the last of the three shots.

I wanted to sate your thirst, dark fic readers since y'all been asking for a while (even though I'm not the best with this style, nor is it my usual type).

Edit: Low-key had to rewrite this before it turned into some 50 Shades of Grey shit...I got...invested (which says a lot considering I'm not deep into the Predator fandom.) Then I got sleepy, so I didn't double word check :) Edit 2: If y'all ever want to request the prince again, I can do it outside of the series...probably, it depends.

Want more from me? Masterlist 1 Masterlist 2

Part 1

Part 2

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

Little Princess (Predator)

Warning(s): Smut content, breeding, jealous Yautja, squirting, size difference, long asf (Might be the longest I've done for Yautja?), fingering, noncon details, possible triggers, exhibition (being watched), whipped Yautja (couldn't help but add a pinch of fluff for the last one)

The prince Ta'yto seems to have taken quite the liking to you, you've become his little Princess to breed...

✨✨✨✨✨

You briskly walked through the halls of the palace, not wanting to be late.

Ta’yto didn’t appreciate when you were late, last time you were punished for it, forced to sit on his lap throughout an entire meeting, how embarrassing.

The thing was, this place was a labyrinth and with the language barrier, you wouldn’t have been able to ask for directions. You had to solely depend on your memory.

Peeking down one way, your gaze flicked over the long walkway, “Here? No there isn’t a candelabra there…”

Which only left the walk way to your left a few feet ahead, you stalked ahead.

Just as you made the turn, you bumped into a solid chest, the firmness making you collapse to the ground, all the jewelry you wore ringing in the hall.

“Owww…” you rub at your forehead, squinting your eyes and craning your head up to see who you bumped into.

It was a Yautja male, not the prince you belonged to, Ta’yto had longer hair and he was wider, this one was slim.

“Sorry—Um…You don’t speak English, right, that’s pointless, [Name],” you muttered to yourself.

You stumble to stand up and straighten yourself due to the slim fit and flowiness of your dress.

A few clicks was all you got in response.

You gave a polite smile, “I should get going—”

He titled your chin up with a finger, seeming to observe you, arm pausing in its movement as he took sight of your blooded symbol.

“Ah…I should get going…”

As you moved to leave he grabbed your arm, easily stopping you, he began to trail his other hand from your chin to your hip.

“Let me go. This isn’t a good idea—”

You were cut off by a growl that felt like it shook the palace.

The predator touching you turned around to kneel to who was in front of him, which meant one thing…

The prince was here to collect you.

His footsteps must have been light before, they were heavy like thunder now.

He stopped in front of him, gesturing for him to stand and when he did stand…

You actually realized how tall Ta’yto was compared to someone other than you, he was at least a whole head taller than the predator in front of him. Having to lean down to be face-to-face—since at the moment his mask-thingy was off (you didn’t know what it was called).

There were a few exchanges of clicks, before Ta’yto decided to toss him away at the wall that connected to the entry of the other hallway.

You had to blink a few times to process that he tossed a fully-grown predator—you assumed anyway—with ease.

Then his head slowly turned to you.

You raised your hands in surrender, “I didn’t—ah! Put me down!”

He had simply tossed you over his shoulder, resting his hand comfortably on your ass as he turned to leave to his quarters like he usually did.

You see, after the fifth time with you, he decided you would officially be his mate. You were his favorite, so you had the privilege of sharing his quarters with him. He--despite kidnapping you and everything-- gave you luxury you didn’t expect, elegant dresses and jewelry from distant planets—learning you regularly needed food and water, made sure you were provided with some, and anything else you could need.

The only things that irked him, was one, despite all these things you still fought—admittedly at times he enjoyed it—it was still no less irking. Then, the fact that you never used the power you had as his top mate to decline the young and impulsive predators who tried to sneak and use you for themselves, knowing that you were taken. He had marked you with his clan mark—damn it, his name for goodness sakes.

Ta’yto found it quite adorable when you muttered angrily in English, thinking he didn’t understand a single word. Sometimes you had a colorful array of names to call him, both in irritation and in pleasure.

“The throne room?” you wondered as you noticed the familiar doors close.

After the short trek up steps, he set you down, only long enough to plop into the sturdy throne and set you on his lap. He sighed, gripping your thigh through the dress.

“I…he didn’t do anything really…” you tried to assure.

At this point, you didn’t necessarily hate him anymore, but you didn’t like him much either.

It was kind of hard to when one minute you’re fighting to the death together only for you to get betrayed and get brutally handled by him.

But he did, he touched what didn’t belong to him.

All he had to say was that ‘She was so tempting. I’m sorry, Prince Ta’yto. I won’t do it again…’

Ta’yto spread his legs, yours following along, before you could even react his rough hand slid under your dress.

“What are you—” your breath hitched as his nails gently grazed against your inner thigh, so close to the warmth between them.

It had been a while since he hand his hand there, after the first time, he’d just preferred to get straight to it.

You whimpered as playful fingers trailed up, his finger moving over the bare, pink, flesh with calculated strokes.

You clenched your thighs to stop it, “Not—Not—”

He simply grunted and spread them open again with his free hand that had been on the armrest.

You bit your bottom lip, trying to contain the thin amount of dignity you still had, you wouldn’t let him win that easily.

Trying to ignore how much more sensitive your body had become each time he had his way with you.

But you couldn’t stop the drawn-out gasp that left your lips when he finally slid in two of his fingers, providing you with a little relief after the immediate tension he created inside you.

But what you hated, was that your body was excited, because you knew two wouldn’t be enough to prepare for him, he’d have to give you more.

You stiffened when the door opened, the advisor or whatever he was had walked in, but after taking in the situation, he gave a few clicks and turned to leave.

But Ta’yto’s voice stopped him, he said something you didn’t understand, which they nodded to before leaving.

You didn’t have time to wonder what that was about because then he was moving again.

Your brows scrunched as you tried to focus, his guard is lowered, you could possibly attack him. He may be stronger than you, but move quick enough, you could immobilize him.

Your eyes flicked over to the sharpened spike on one of the sides of his foot rest. Thinking of all possible scenarios for a few minutes. But you would have to bend and reach for it, that would be too much time.

“I—can you stop for a second…I…I’m too sensitive…” you attempted.

Not that it worked, of course.

Then the door opened again, it was the Predator from before in chains.

You could feel Ta’yto chuckle behind you, before speaking to the Predator in their language.

“You know. The thing about tempting things, they aren’t attainable to scum like you…The reason I brought you here, is to remind you what’s mine and that you can’t have her. You aren’t permitted to speak or leave until I tell you. Think about this the next time you decide to touch what doesn’t belong to you.”

He turned his attention back to you who had turned your head in embarrassment and closed your legs, even though the scum couldn’t see underneath the dress.

He spread your legs again, giving his hand access to move, “This is mine. Only I can touch it like this, you could only ever dream…”

He quickly switched from a tame pace to a rough rhythmic one, making you gasp and let your head fall into his chest.

“Didn’t you touch her here?” he gripped your chin that had been touched before, forcing you to look at the chained Predator, as he added another finger, “Well, I’m reclaiming it.”

This should’ve still been embarrassing to you, but it so, so, erotic, so…so strangely powerful all you could do was tighten around his fingers.

You gripped his arm tight, “Please, it’s too much, not—not yet—hah…”

You found your hips moving to meet his fingers, desperate for the soon coming release.

“And every other place your slimy hands touched her... She doesn’t smell like me as strongly anymore…that needs to change.”

Your nails dug into his bicep, not that he felt it much.

He likes that his research on female humans and what brings pleasure was put to good use with you.

Speaking of…should he try that new thing he learned about yesterday? Well, since he has an audience, he might as well give a show.

In the same motion he tore off your dress, your places were switched, your bare body sitting on the throne while he stood, towering over you, before kneeling down.

Which confused you, considering he was the royal one and you were not.

But you were totally clueless to the fact that this Yautja was so addicted he had no problem doing so at any time.

With another quick move, he gripped your legs and tugged you forward, it was so sudden, you had to grab the armrests to steady yourself.

“What…what are you..?”

His face was way too close to your nether regions, you could feel his breath, which made you twitch each time.

What was he going to—your eyes widened as you felt a wet muscle brush against you.

What was going on? Was he—? Where did he learn this?

You yelped as the few cautious licks of a forked tongue became ravenous, he gripped your thighs hard as his tongue teased you.

“Ohhhh,” you sighed out, biting your lip to keep quiet.

But that’s not what he wanted, so he slid in the hard muscle.

You gripped the armrests for your life, barely able to hold eye contact with him as he devoured you like a starved man. And the mandibles brushing against your skin made it worse.

You tossed your head back, a desperate moan leaping from your throat, the feeling too good, tears bubble up to your waterline, “Please don’t—Not that—Not there—Please!”

But he doesn’t pause, he just gets impossibly more aggressive.

He wants the tears to fall, that’s what always happens before you break. He wants you to break.

He adds his fingers into the equation again, the minute he does, you’re gripping his head like a lifeline.

The closer you get, the louder you get, which he likes. He likes when that composure you try so hard to keep disappears. Shatters before his very eyes. He keeps his eyes on you, wanting to see the moment when it happens.

And it does, but not in the way he was expecting, your chest hiccups as the tears finally fall and you shake your head, almost like you want to refuse the feeling, but you don’t, not really, he knows that.

“No, no, no, I can’t…no…”

And your hips jerk, you’re no longer able to control them and a water-like substance escapes from you. He quickly gets over the surprise and happily excepts it. This is new and you show no signs of being in pain, more than the usual anyway, so he succeeded, right?

Then your crying is of embarrassment, you hadn’t done that before.

But he doesn’t allow you to wallow in it for long.

Your breath is ragged as your legs shake, but you know he never shows mercy on you.

Definitely not today since he’s showing off how beautiful you are and how well you take him, that he’s got something no one but him can have. No one.

The second thing different about today, he rubs a thumb against your thigh, as if saying good job or good girl.

He doesn’t stay there too long, ready to cleanse his mate of the scum that dared touch her completely.

You whine as he finally sheds off his loincloth, you’re way too sensitive to take him now.

And he knows you’re sensitive. He knows you’re sensitive as he lifts you by your shaky legs to place you on his lap again as he sits on his throne. He knows you’re sensitive as he rubs you against his erection as you face away from him. He knows your sensitive as he moves one hand to the hip that was touched.

But he knows you can handle it, his little pet always handles it.

“Ahhm! Fuck!”

He growls as you suck him in, your body molded into the form his wanted. Now your body so greedily accepts him as compared to before. He fits so perfect, like your body conformed to his shape. You really are just for him.

“She fits me perfectly. So, you see—ngh—you could never satisfy her anyway, you peasant.”

You barely have time to settle before he’s pounding away.

“Sense—sensetiv—!”

Haven’t you learned by now that he doesn’t really care?

You’re just his little pet—

Well, Ta’yto supposed that wasn’t true anymore.

You were more than a pet—although you were still a pet, his little pet—

You were more than that…his true mate—no…his princess.

Maybe he should marry you.

Would that be strange? He might be looked at weirdly since it wasn’t a thing for his race.

But if he got to pound into this every day, this hot, tight, warm—

Anyway, you were the best mate he’s had…you were fit for royalty both figuratively and literally you fit him into you like he was meant to fill you whenever.

Speaking of filling, you’d look absolutely ravishing with a little bump, at this point he genuinely wanted it.

He’d have to do his best to be gentle no matter how arousing the sight would be. He wouldn’t be able to not fuck you, so at the very least he’d just be gentle and still be able to feel you around him like a vice as you held his child.

The thought of impregnating you gave him a whole new burst of energy.

His little princess having his little baby.

Maybe more than one, how many babies could a human have without dying?

He wanted that many.

“Too much—Too-too much! Please, I—I can’t” you sobbed turning your head into his side.

Little princess, don’t you know your tears only spur him on? He likes when you cry.

He grips the inside of your knee a little more, ramming into you. Wanting to unsure he fills you with strong seed, strong enough to give him children.

You spasm around him as you release again, the feeling so intense it’s hard to stay conscious as you settle.

But his pace barely slows, despite the tightness, and only speeds up again once you finish.

You beg, “Please…I'm done...I...”

Your head collapses onto his chest as darkness takes over you.

And he doesn’t stop, no, not until he spills every drop into you.

"The thing is princess, I decide when you're done."

And a month later he got what he wanted, a cute little bump, his little princess.

And oh, how he wished he could ravish you how he wanted…but he’d have to wait for that.

[highpri3stess]

Alright, Imma say it anyways.

Tw. Racism death threats etc

First, I'd like to thank people who told me to do other stuff outside tumblr today. You are real ones and I am grateful because I would have lost my mind if I didn't do something else today. To people who texted and checked up on me. You are real ones. I was getting to a level where my mental state was spiraling and yall talked sense into me. I'm gonna let this go, right after this.

Now, to the controversal statement.

This is the last thing I'll say before I do other stuff on here.

If you expect me to be quiet after seeing "Monica deserves fifty lashes, she's a slave n-word bitch that needs to be decapitated and her boobs cut off" you are racist. No, no, no don't gasp, don't gasp you know it's the truth.

If I unfollowed you after that issue and you blocked me, you prove to me, you are an enabler of racism. No, no, no, don't gasp either, you know it's the truth.

If you were a black creator who followed me and then got mad at me and unfollowed me because if that issue, you are also an enabler of racism. No no no don't gasp, don't gasp hold your breath I'm not done talking.

You know why I said this thing?

Three of the people in these categories were actually defending that guy caught with shota shit. Yes. You people were so ready to defend that guy, one of you even made a fucking alt account to defend that piece of shite, as if his life was in danger. I saw some people I'm exmoots with liking posts defending him while saying "oh his actions are gross". Who are you trying to deceive?

And when I started getting racist anons, some of yall had the nerve to tell me I am a drama blog and yall don't want to hang out with me no more. I was literally getting threats and slurs and that was all some of you said on anon. And you have the guts to still reblog shit on my account? Is it because I didn't expose you? Because I know it was you. Yes you. One of you even caused the entire issue by sending the post to that person. I know you. You caused this. Fuck you.

And yes I called some of you inhumane. You all were ready to jump on that guys dick but to defend someone who was recieving SLURS all of a sudden "I'm not a discourse blog". And when I said it, some of yall appeared in my dms saying I was being too mean. No. That was me being TOO nice, I could have called them something far worse and they would have deserved anything I called them.

And hell, some of you that are black jumped in my dms. I know you would not have the balls to open your damn mouth if it was not your fellow black authors, since you decided you wanted to kiss ass. And I know you don't have the balls because you did not go to the perpertrator and disrespect them like that.

All of you involved plus that weak ass fool going on people's accounts saying those slurs are spineless. Spineless weaklings. Since all of you in these groups of people have decided to be afraid of some disgraced mf who cannot do shit off anon, you all are the weakest links. And you deserved to be dragged by the root of your hair because you rather defend a pedo than stand against racism.

And if this offends you and your Kabal, or your queen mother, since you people are shaking in your boots when you see her, you have yourself to blame. Look in the mirror and reflect. Maybe grow a pair or two.

Anytime I feel bad, I remember you mfs and I feel better about myself. "I may be having a hard time, but at least I'm not spineless."

I am glad I broke mutuals with some of you weird bitches and I am glad my anons are off. Trust, if you ever get harrassed, you do not have my sympathy. In fact, I will tell you word for word, exactly what you told me and I will do it off anon- "Why are you being a drama blog?" "Just stop being angry and touch grass"

If the shoe fits. If you like, send this on your discord server and groups. Fuck y'all.

- love, Monica

[mirroredmemoriez]

Amanda Young style and fem whatnot thoughts

Once again here to speak my thoughts that nobody asked for because I love documenting my brain which I have to boot up like a chainsaw. I've spoken about Amanda's appearance before! Going over her outfits throughout the franchise and such and how I believe it kinda symbolises the stages she's at- I am in the firm belief her cutting her hair was almost like a rebirth for example.

However, right now I'm looking at the ''gender representation'' and stylisation side I guess? Which, I want to state- These are my opinions and thoughts and are by no way to say I'm like the only CORRECT view and anyone else's interpretation of Amanda that's different to mine is wrong, because I like seeing everyone's various takes on her character. With that said! I see Amanda as somebody who tries to be feminine, but can't express it truly how she wants? Down to factors such as she can't afford certain things like makeup accessories, and that she needs to have more of a practical wardrobe whilst being an apprentice. Oh! Also having to hide her identity at times. (I also want to slide in the fact that I don't think she's hyper feminine or masculine, honestly? She's just Amanda really, I wouldn't personally put a label on it when it comes to that.)

The first look we get of Amanda, she's in a way more revealing outfit than her future ones whilst working under John. This could just be her style, which to a certain degree I agree on... However there also could be an aspect of performative femininity, seeing as she's not ''reformed'' at this point and it's suggested in the Saw wiki that she has prostituted herself to be able to fund her drug addiction before. Basically, catering to the male gaze to get what she wants. She's wearing a cut off shirt which exposes her shoulders and collar area a lot, something we don't see again until Saw 3- And even then it's still not as cut off as the purple one. Amanda also has fishnets, a skirt and boots on. If I had to say how I view Amanda' style myself, I'd go with Hot Topic thief and or something alternative like ''grungy.'' We've also got the fact she has black nail polish on, eyeliner and more curled out hair- Even when she grows it back, it's not as wavy as it's seen here, so it's possible she's either just heavily dishevelled or she purposely has maybe curled it out a little. Once again, this could possibly be her trying to look more appealing to others by ''grooming'' herself better. However, I also think she wants to just for herself really.

Now, we've got her Saw X look, which to me is the most heavily influenced by John. Amanda has cut off her hair to I guess kinda a pixie-bob cut? A big leap from her previous haircut which had it falling at least over her shoulders if not longer. She's also very bare faced, with no heavily noticeable touches of makeup anywhere to be seen. Her clothes are drastically more practical than her previous outfit. A form fitting shirt, cargo pants and combat boots. The only influence I feel she has on this outfit is the choker and little earring. You can't really blame her for the change though- Amanda just wouldn't be putting time into something like beauty cosmetics or making any fashion statement when she's got shit to do... Y'know like make death traps and kidnap people, activities where the way you look doesn't matter and you wouldn't want your clothes to get caught on something especially.

Before I fully move on to her Saw 2 look, two honourable mentions! These both showcase the fact that nowadays, when Amanda is out and about, she's trying to hide her identity. She can't really draw any attention to herself and that is reflected in what she wears. The Scott Tibbs Documentary look has to be one of my favourites, I love the skull trousers so much and they are definitely something she wears because she likes the LOOK, not just because of ''simplicity.''

(Amanda has them on again in the deleted nightmare scene as well, so it's a recurring piece of her wardrobe.)

(I also think this is her dressing for herself- Compared to her outfits when it comes to the games and abductions)

The pig outfit, though I believe can be slightly stupid at times, due to the fact that it's probably less convenient than whipping on something like a balaclava with a hoodie and a bit more out there visually too- It still does it's main intended job, which is to conceal the identity of the Jigsaw apprentices. With the one I've selected above, this is when Amanda is going to abduct Adam, so obviously this is still pretty early in the timeline? We can see a re-appearance of smudged eye makeup like in her introduction.

TRYING TO GET BACK ON TRACK! Here we have her ''blue'' outfits as I dub them. I'm aware there is a time jump between them, however generally what I have to say for them is the exact same? We can see that Amanda is growing her hair out more and I would say these are very relaxed fits. Saw 2 Amanda has to be one of her most basic outfits I'd say, a plain blue shirt and blue sweatpants to go along with it.... The wiki feet people are going insane too.

WOOOOO! ON TO ANOTHER OF MY FAVOURITE OUTFITS. YOU JUST KNOW SHE STOLE THAT BELT FROM HOT TOPIC I AM SO SORRY! Saw 3 Amanda to me is a mix between something like her look in Saw X and then her look in Saw (2004)- I also love the contrast between it and the Saw 2 look, a blue vs red type feel almost? You're definitely more inclined to see Amanda as intimidating here than in blue. Comparisons aside, let's look at the actual fit this woman has on! Once again, she sports cargo pants with a belt to accompany and combat boots too. The shirt isn't as cut off as the purple one as I stated before, but it leaves a lot of her collar and back area exposed. It's her influence alongside John's- And her almost I wouldn't say rebelling? But defining herself outside of him. If I once again want to go full English teacher analysis... We could make the reach and say that her physically exposing herself is paired with how she emotionally is exposed as well. Her lowest points if you will. BUT! We'll move on from that so I can ramble about some other accessories. Amanda is wearing a gold ring and a watch, nothing too out there but I wanted to point them out seeing as I am covering the WHOLE outfit. Her hair is now at it's original length, once again reinforcing the fact she is almost reverting back to her old style but at the same time redefining it? Hair growth to show personal growth. (Some more honourable mentions.)

Here we have her dress, leather jacket and DBD concept art! First we'll look at the dress. It's honestly really cute to me- The ribbon around her neck just really makes it AMANDA, otherwise there isn't too much to say on the design outside of that and it's colour. Then moving on to the leather jacket, it's something I can definitely see her wearing a lot on top of her other outfits. OK! This is getting super fucking long now, I'll try and finish off soon- I have to say I love the DBD concept art and the in game designs too, I can 100% see where they've taken inspiration from with the outfits. I'm in firm belief Amanda deserves to have her arm sleeves so where they've combined that and the Saw 3 look is URHG YES. I also enjoy their take on her leather look, fleshed out the design more in my opinion. Anyway... If you've somehow gotten all the way down here? Jesus Christ, thanks I guess? I am someone who loves over analysing things and discussing characters/movies like this, so I just couldn't help myself anymore. Oh, and feel free to add on to any of this, whether you agree or disagree! MAL OUT

[confessionbrain-writings]

Backbone part two - Syverson

Summary: You had a confrontation with The Captain but got interrupted before things could escalate. But that doesn't keep the grumpy Captain up as he orders you to meet up later. And meeting up you did.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Reader

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, unprotected p in the v, spanking, let me know if I missed something.

Word count: approx 2,7k

A/N: So hi there. It's been a while, but life kinda happend (which I'm not gonna bore you with). So a (wayyy) bit longer than I wished but here is part two of Backbone. You can read part one here. English isn’t my mother tongue so apologies for typos or mistakes. I hope you enjoy. Feedback is very welcome!

As soon as darkness fell, the camp grew silent and prepared itself for another night. But it wouldn’t be like any other, not for me. I had slipped on my boots and tiptoed my way back to the Captain’s office. Even though it was dark, it wasn’t that hard for me to navigate back to the designated spot. Without a lot of thoughts I silently stepped into the hallway and eyed the closed door of his office. 

The sight of it brought me back to our banter from earlier today. It had played over and over in my head and that didn’t exactly help to keep my hormones and the throbbing pulse between my legs in order. But not only his words were the culprit, it was also the ghost of his touch. How his body had felt, pressed against mine and how he had grabbed my jaw. It was like I was this horny teenager again who could only think about dicks and sex. Sex, sex, sex. It was a silent chant in my head and I cursed myself for it. Since when did I let it affect me so much? 

A mix of excitement and anxiety settled in while eyeing the door closely, almost burning holes through it in hope to see if he was behind it. What if he wasn’t there? What if he just wanted to vex me? What in the bloody hell was I even doing… 

I’ve shoved the train of thoughts down before they could derail and stepped into his office, silently closing the door behind me. It didn’t take long for my eyes to adjust to the darkness and I quickly could make out his shape. He was leaning back against the wall, one foot popped against it and arms folded across his chest. Without seeing his face, I knew he had his brows furrowed. 

“Ya late,” he stated and pushed himself from the wall, taking slow and tensive steps towards me.

The tiny hairs on my body stood right up as my defense mechanism kicked in and screamed at me to run while another part of me wanted to stay, anticipating the Captain’s actions.

“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?” The retort was out before I could stop it. Somehow there was something about him that just hit all the wrong nerves that’d put me on edge. And I was damn well sure he knew that too. 

“Ya think ya smart, hu?” He asked as he stepped closer. I kept my stance right as it was. Confident.

“You wanna know what I think, Sir?” I asked and cocked my head, lips pursed. 

“No.”

“Well, I’m gonna tell you anyway.”

That earned me a scoff.

“Then why do ya ask?”

“I was attempting to be polite.”

“Mmm,” was his only reply as he folded his arms across his chest again. Even in the darkness, I could make out his bulging biceps.

“I think…” I started but my words were cut off as he closed the distance between us. I noticed his approach, but I let him as his hands curled around my biceps and pushed me back against the closed door. 

Shit, this was so wrong but it was also exhilarating. The heath between my legs started to pool again, going from zero to a hundred. I inhaled through my nose and took my gaze back to his face as he opened his mouth.

“I don’t care what ya thinkin’” he growled and pressed his lips hungrily against mine. One hand slid to my jaw as I clawed at his buzzcut, pulling him in. 

The kiss was wild and full of need. Our lips moving in unison as his other hand found my waist. Quickly tugging the shirt out of my pants and placing his hand on my bare waist. The feeling of his warm palm against my skin sent an electric shudder across my skin. And that electric feel shot straight to my lower stomach as he made his way up, roaming over my ribcage and squeezed the skin just under my boob. 

A deep moan escaped my throat. My own hands skimming over his warm skin and solid muscles. It was no secret that he was well-trained and muscular, since that was easy visible to the naked eye, but feeling those muscles under my palm. Damn it. It only edged me on.

“Fuck—“ I whimpered against his lips and clawed at his shirt, needing more of him. The Captain seemed to notice and slipped his shirt over his head in one swift move. My hands instantly roaming the exposed skin. 

He was quick to grab the hem of my shirt and let it follow his on the floor. He cursed when he met my bare breasts, since I didn’t bother wearing a bra. What would be the use anyway?

“Jesus, Sugar,” his hands quickly shot forward, kneading the plump skin which made me gasp. 

“Ya came prepared,” he stated and shot me a dark look. That look only could make me cum right then and there. 

“Ya needy lil’ thing, ain’t ya?”

Lost for words I just nodded. Somehow the need to defend myself and stand my ground like before suddenly flew out of the window. The need consuming my body and started to haze my mind. It almost was like I was in some sort of drunken state. High on his touch and craving for more. More, more and just more. 

“Hu.. Cat got ya tongue? Do ya want it that bad?” He grits and empathizes his words by squeezing my breasts harder.

I whimper and struggle to find words to answer. “I— yeah..” Is all I can choke out.

A feral grin starts to form on his face. He’s well aware how his touch and words affect me.

In an instant he takes a step back, leaving me a little confused and light-headed. Did he change his mind? Oh, he’d better not ‘cause there was no way my fingers could comply the building fire inside. 

He takes a deep breath and nods to his desk. “Take off ya clothes and place ya hands on the desk.” He orders and I gape at him.

“You— I— Wha—“ I spluttered but he interrupted me before I could finish.

“Ya heard me. Don’t make me tell ya twice, sweetheart.”

The new nickname and command shot straight to my core but did as he told. I felt his hungry gaze follow me as I made my way to his desk. Kicking my boots off, followed quickly by the rest of my clothes. The wooden desk under my palms was a bit clammy, but hey, what a surprise - you were in the fucking desert. 

As his heavy steps came closer I turned my head to glance at him. He still had this feral grin on his face and twirled his finger in the air. 

“Turn back. I didn’t order ya to turn around, now did I?”

I swallowed and turned back, looking at my hands on the desk instead. Suddenly I felt his broad hands on my waist which made me shudder. He leaned forward, his bare chest covering my back, his lips brushed the shell of my ear.

“I asked ya somethin’” he breathed which made goosebumps break out over my skin. 

“No,” I whispered back.

“No.” His voice is steady. “No I did not.” He continues as his hand slowly sank to my ass. Caressing my cheeks and then — WHACK. 

A yelp fell over my lips at the sudden sting. He just smacked me. He smacked me hard and I liked it, a lot. I bit my lower lip to contain my panting breath. 

He smoothens the smack by gently massaging the red skin. 

“Ya wanna know what I think?” He asks, copying my words from earlier.

I nod my head, afraid my voice will betray how rilled up I am.

“I think this is what ya like, don’ ya? Gettin’ handled by ya Captain. Should I find out?”

It feels like my heart would jump right out of my chest. The words making my face heath. Why was this so hot when not even a few hours ago I could strangle him? The need to fight him now nowhere to be found. The feeling of wanting this was immensely stronger.

Those thoughts quickly faded when I felt how his hand slid down over my spine, onto the curve of my ass, switching to my front and lower stomach and hovering over the aching part between my thighs. 

I swallowed thickly as I slightly started to spread my stance, giving him more acces. Hoping he would dip his hand further down to where I needed it the most. As if he could read my mind he did and I felt how his breath hitched against the side of my face when he met my undeniable arousal. 

“Just like I thought. Fuckin’ soaked for me already.”

I whimpered when he slowly moved two fingers up and down my slit, spreading the wetness. 

“Fuckin’, filthy little thin’ ” he hissed and it only made the inferno worse. So bad that I couldn’t stop the plead falling from my lips.

“Please, I need—” my voice broke as I pushed my hips back, trying to fuck his fingers. Needing him so bad, it felt like my body was as tight as a bowstring. 

“If you want it so bad, I’ll give it to ya.” He breathed hoarsely. 

Turning my head slightly so I could steal a glimpse at him, it was clear that he also was starting to lose it. He could pretend to be tough but seeing me bend over his desk - naked and needing - made him also threw his morals out of the window.

“Fuck it.” He cursed and he unbuckled his belt swiftly. Not even bothering to take his pants and boxer completely off, he shuffled them down to his ankles so his erection could sprang free. 

Holy. Shit. I watched as he fisted his big cock, giving it a few tugs before lining it up at my soaked entrance. Only the feel of the tip made me moan again. That seemed to bring back his attention and he growled as he gripped the roots of my hair with his other hand and pushed me face down onto the desk harshly. My right cheek meeting the wooden and sticky surface.

“What did I tell ya?” He barked through clenched teeth and I wiggled against him. I needed more. I needed more of him, now.

“Just fuck me,” I begged. “Please.” I added and that was enough for him.

He snaps his hips up and slides in, making the both of us moan and whimper. The stretch of him filling me suddenly made me hiss and clench my teeth. But the sting wasn’t that bad, the banter from earlier and his dirty words made the pleasure overrule.

Pushing myself back - as far a possible since he still held my face to the desk - to feel him more, feel him deeper. He planted his free hand on my waist, steadying himself and stopping me.

“No,” I whine and try to look over my shoulder. “Please, Captain,” I beg and he snarls.

“I was planning on takin’ it easy on ya but ya makin’ it so fuckin’ damn hard!” He’s clenching his jaw hard and I notice how he shakes slightly, his control starting to slip.

I can’t help but smile at him, suddenly feeling a bit of a victory for getting him rilled up as well. His brow furrowed and he smacks my ass again.

“Oh!” I yelp and he does it again. Twice. But my smile returns and his nostrils flare. 

“Is that what ya want?” He snapped and leans over me so his weight pressed me more into the desk. Even though breathing got a little bit heavier, the weight of him on me is.. good, nice, welcome. 

Due this angle his cock slides further in, stretching my walls and I whimper softly.

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Then let me give it to ya, sweetheart.” 

Without wasting a breath he snaps his hips and is instantly off on a feral pace. Fucking me right into the desk. This is punishment.

The sound of our arousal and slapping skin echoes through the office. The wooden desk groans under our weight as it’s moving back and forth with a scraping noise.

Whimpers, moans and pleads spill over my lips as he keeps rutting into me. Fucking me just like I asked him to and it’s hot as hell. This was wicked, this was madness and almost animalistic. 

“Is this what ya want?” He groans out. Releasing his tight grip on my hair and leans back. I place my palms flat on the desk and push myself up. Creating another angle that makes me see stars every time he thrusts into me. 

“Yes, sir,” I choke out and glance over my shoulder. 

Fuck. The primal look on his face makes me squeeze my core, pulling the strained bow even tighter. His hands are digging harder and harder into my hips which I’m sure will leave some prints. But I couldn’t care less. Not when he’s fucking me this good. This hard and raw. Both chasing our carnal desire.

“Fuck, Sugar.” He curses and his movements starts to falter, getting closer and closer to the edge. He grabs my arms and pulls them back, bending my back even further into a crescent curve. And with that movement the pull in my core is as tense as it can be.

Tears start to form in my eyes due the sensation. It’s almost too much to take. 

“Sy,” I sob and don’t even care when I called out his name. He reacts with a growl and curse.

“Again—Say it—“ he pants, “Say it again.” 

I willingly comply. 

“Fuck Sy— you— I’m gonna—“ before I can finish, the bow snaps and my orgasm washes over me. 

I feel his hand clamping down over my mouth, muffling my screams. He follows me just after by three feral thrusts. With my name on his lips as a curse he reaches his climax and spills his seed into me.

My heart is pounding like crazy, creating a ringing in my ears and I let my head fall back onto the desk. Taking time to catch my panting breath and lower my heart rate. 

The Captain slowly pulls out and I hear how he is dressing up already by the sounds of rustling fabric and the clink of his belt. 

How in the hell can he dress up already? It feels like I’m gonna need all night to pull myself back together and descend into my body again.

I feel his palm on the small op my back. “Ya good, Private?” He asks. 

Private. Alright, so I guess thats that for the nicknames. Fine.

Taking a deep breath I straighten myself and feel how my core is pulsing. Well, tomorrow is gonna be fun.

“Yes, Captain,” I answer and turn around. “Fine.”

He hands me a towel and while I wipe both of our releases off, he gathers my clothes and places them on the desk before he crosses his arms in front of his chest again. Just like he did when I walked in. 

I dress silently while he keeps his eye on me like a hawk. I take a deep breath and straighten to my full length when I’m finished.

We have a stare down for a few seconds and then I’m off to unlock the door and make my way back. 

Just as I open the door he slams it shut. His arm extends above me and I feel his presence close behind me. Giving me an immediate deja vu. I swallow tightly and only cock my head slightly to look at him.

He open his mouth but then closes it. He takes a deep breath and swallows.

“This cannot happen again, Private. Ya hear me?” 

His smooth and arousal-filled voice is replaced by the well familiar Captain’s one and I bit my tongue.

I nod at him and held his stare. “Yes, Captain. I hear you.” He nods and I watch how his gaze flicks to my lips. He leans in slightly and the movements sends a shudder down my spine. But whatever he planned to do halts and then he leans back, opening the door

“Goodnight, Private.” “Goodnight, Captain.”

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[nakanotamu]

good day madam, i am a hungry lesbian in need of your gayest wresting moments. can you spare me a cup of gay?

Anon you have come to the right person. Everything's been leading up to this. This is what it's all been for. This will probably be long.

Anon I got so excited about this I even solicited my friends for THEIR gayest moments so I'll do those first. You were recommended:

Mahiro Kiryu briefly getting a takarazuka gimmick in TJPW's Hyper Misao produced show HYPE

Giulia vs Konami from the 5 Star GP 2021, which was described as "the first match I remember watching and going OH MY GOD KONAMI AND GIULIA ARE FUCKING", and their feud did later give us a promo where Konami was like "Hey Giulia, you know how I bully you and you like it?" and Giulia was like "Ahaha, yeah?" and Konami was like "Well that's basically our entire relationship, so there you go." She did have examples.

pretty much anything with Raku/Pom Harajuku/Yuki Aino in TJPW, who my friends have lovingly dubbed the Pomycule

Okay enough from them though. You didn't ask them, you asked me and I asked them. Now for the me. I think it's important to note as well, anon, that not all of the gay shit in wrestling happens in a match, or even in the ring. Sometimes it's just shit on social media, a lot of the time it happens at press conferences, you must maintain constant vigilance. Anyway.

Whatever the fuck Syuri and Utami have going on, which I wrote about here.

There was the time Himeka kissed Syuri last year

There was Komomo enjoying getting beat up by Saki Kashima a Little Too Much, which I wrote about here.

There was the exchange between Utami and Syuri at the press conference for Stardom Gold Rush last year

There was Tam Nakano starting an entire faction to, in her own words, surround herself with women with big boobs (their focus has since shifted)

There was AliKaba, the tag team of Giulia and Syuri, which was basically just one long enactment of gay longing from Giulia

There was the time Giulia posted this picture with the caption ^-^ and then deleted it

There was the time FWC, the tag team of Hazuki and Koguma, spent 5 hours in the bath together (sadly they just talked about that I don't have pictures)

another time FWC both got matching bruises at the same time, and then later confirmed that yes they got them together. In the bath again

There were both Cosmic Rules matches at Stardom in Showcase 1 & 2 which I unfortunately don't have any great screenshots of but I'm positive were inspired by lesbian porn

There are constant small exchanges like this that don't even have a lot of context they just happen all the time

There was the time Hikari Noa had a hardcore match against Nao Kakuta and after they did this

There was the time Mina Shirakawa spat on Saya Kamitani and then licked her face

There was this shit in Act Wres Girlz, which for the record kind of depressingly does not do gay stories super frequently but has legitimately I think the highest percentage of out wrestlers I've seen in any company

There was the brief Tam Syuri feud which shockingly somehow did not involve anyone kissing but had the vibe that they were kissing mentally the entire time

There was every single exchange Tam and Natsupoi had before they realized they were still in love with each other but ESPECIALLY their cage match

And, for my money, the gay moment that lives the largest and dearest and most bittersweet in my mind was when Tam and Unagi had their singles match as part of the 5 Star GP last year, which was, unknown to us at the time, something of a farewell tour for Unagi before she went freelance, where afterwards they hugged in the ring for two minutes and then kissed.

I'm gonna cut myself off there but trust me I could go on and on and on for way too long but that's why I think you should watch for yourself. Wrestling is always moving and new gay stuff is always happening. In conclusion,

[mmmichyyy]

one phone call

a spiritual companion piece to chapter four of balancing on the ledge - what if they kept in touch when mickey was in mexico?

“Gallagher.”

Ian sits up straight in his bed. Rubs the sleep from his eyes and blinks at his surroundings, adjusting his vision in the dark. A crumpled pack of Marlboros on the nightstand, surrounded by knocked over orange bottles of pills. A lone sock on the floor, from his missed aim at the hamper. A crack of light peeking into his room, reflecting off the snow falling outside the window.

“Gallagher,” the voice over the phone repeats, tinny and far away. “Are you there.”

It's real, he thinks, pinching his arm. This isn't a dream.

“Mickey,” Ian whispers.

A sigh on the other end of the line.

“Hey.”

“Where are you?” Ian asks faintly.

“Can't tell you.” Sounds of a chair shuffling against the floor in the background. Glasses clinking. Muffled voices. A bar, maybe. “I’m alive, though.”

Relief floods his entire body. It's been a while since he heard from Mickey, maybe a couple weeks since he's received a text from an unknown number. Usually it's just a short message, nothing revealing, nothing profound, but every time his phone chimes his heart starts racing in anticipation to seeing Mickey's name on his screen.

Well, not Mickey exactly. Just M or a string of random numbers. Can't be too careful.

“That's good,” Ian manages to say. “I'm glad.”

A moment of silence. A million questions and thoughts run through Ian's head. How are you? What kind of jobs are you doing down there? Are you safe? Tell me you're okay. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you.

But he doesn't. Can't get the words out.

“Jesus Gallagher, did you fall asleep on me?”

“No,” Ian says quickly. “No, I'm just… I'm just surprised you called, that's all.”

“Thought you wanted me to call.”

“I do, Mick.” Ian lets out a deep breath. “But I don't want you to get caught.”

“It's fine. I'm using a new burner.” A pause. “I wanted to hear your voice.”

The slight slurring in Mickey's voice makes Ian go still.

“Are you drunk?”

A huff. “Can't get drunk anymore. My tolerance has gone way up since I got here.”

“Mickey.”

“Gallagher.” Ian can practically hear Mickey's eyes rolling from miles away. “I'm fine, okay? Fuck, I don't even know why I called. I knew you didn't give a fuck about–”

“Don't do that,” Ian cuts him off quietly. “Please, Mick. Don't push me away. I need–” Sighs. “I need to know you're okay.”

“So you can clear your conscience?” Mickey spits out. “So you don't feel guilty for leaving me at the border?”

“You don't think I feel guilty about it every single day?” Ian practically yells. “I do. I think about it all the time. How I could be in Mex– there for you, taking care of you, building our future together. How we could be happy together. But I couldn't come with you. I couldn't drag you down with my shit. If you got caught because of me, I don't think I can live with myself.”

The line on the other end goes quiet. A minute goes by, then another, long enough for Ian’s nerves to shake. Then–

“I don't have a future, Ian,” Mickey finally says, quiet and soft. “This is it for me. This is my life. I'm going to be here for a long time.”

“The heat is going to die down eventually,” Ian whispers. “The charges are bullshit anyway. Everything's going to work out. I promise.”

A small laugh. “You promise, huh.”

Ian has no idea what's going to happen or what the future holds. But what he does know is that this isn't the end of his and Mickey's story together. One day, whenever it may be, he's going to see Mickey again. And when he does, he's never going to let go ever again.

“I promise.”

A flick of a lighter on the other end. Then, a deep exhale.

“I gotta go.”

Ian's heart lurches.

“Promise me you'll stay in touch. You don't have to call, but just text me from time to time and let me know you're okay.” A lump forms in his throat. “Please, Mick.”

Another deep sigh. But–

“Okay,” Ian hears, and the world aligns itself once again. “I promise.”

The snow continues to fall outside, covering the entire neighbourhood with a blanket of frost. Ian wonders what the weather is like where Mickey is. Warm, he hopes.

“Merry Christmas, Mickey.”

“Merry Christmas, Gallagher.”