#until the sandwich dog incident :)

[fourphoenixfeathers]

Emmet in Paldea willing to fight the professor to get his bro back

I raise you Emmet in paldea working with the professor to get his bro back.

While Ingo got eebied to the past, Emmet got eebied to the future. Man falls straight out of the time machine right into Turo's lab, and if Turo can pull him out of the future, he can pull Ingo from wherever he landed.

Problem is, Emmet has no idea when and where that is. So he just hangs around and helps Turo with things while he scours history for his brother. He doesn't want to think of the possibility that Ingo is also in the future, in which case it will be impossible to find him...

Emmet grows to consider Turo as a friend, but he can't help but think there's something off about his motovations...

[itsbenedict]

horror movie that's a completely normal horror movie for 90% of the runtime, where the entire time you're yelling at the idiot protagonists to just get out of the obviously haunted location before they get killed by the ghosts. like, yeah, you bought this historic old mansion with antique suits of armor and everything, and you'd have wasted a lot of money if you abandoned it, but you're going to get killed, you morons.

the movie continues in this vein, friends and family disappearing in miscellaneous Ghost Incidents, until finally we're seeing the final girl fleeing the monster down a dead-end hallway, screaming as it approaches her-

-and then the ultimate revenant spirit steps in a loop of rope, which tightens around its ankle and hoists it up to the ceiling. two nearby suits of armor lift their visors and reveal a scruffy hippie-looking dude and what cannot be, but must be, a Great Dane.

"like, let's find out who this ghost really is!" the hippie knight says, and pulls a rubber mask off of the ultimate revenant, revealing none other than the realtor that sold the protagonists the mansion, who staged the whole haunting/movie in hopes of forcing the protagonists to just get out of the obviously haunted location before they get killed by the ghosts.

several teenagers the final girl has never met before suddenly arrive. a rich kid, a librarian-looking nerd, and a dweeb in an ascot flash back to all the haunting scenes to explain the elaborate practical effects used to fool them. after all is said and done, you're pretty sure nothing supernatural actually happened in the entire movie, except for how that dog just said, in English, that it wanted a sandwich.

[milanned]

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠"; 𝑳𝑬𝑶𝑵 𝑺. 𝑲𝑬𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑫𝒀 𝒙 𝑭𝑬𝑴 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹 ~ 18+

𝙇𝙖𝙣'𝙨 𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚: Hi and thank you for choosing to read my work! I haven't written seriously since my high school career, but I've missed writing, so I hope y'all enjoy this little number and I can get back into it 💋

Summary: You take on the task of showing the new recruit the ropes and end up showing him more than you bargained for.

unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, oral (f receiving), teasing, "officer" as a pet name/taunt

Warning! You are responsible for your own content consumption. This is a mature piece! (18+)

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚┊ ˚➶ ｡˚｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ x ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆┊ ˚➶ ｡˚┊ ˚➶ ｡˚

"And this is the West Office, it's where your desk is."

Guiding newly instated officer Leon Kennedy was not a job you expected to be tasked with in the first few months of your career in law enforcement as a fairly new officer. The order had come from your General, as he knew Leon's family before the incident. However, you didn't understand how a man surrounded by so much crime as a young boy seemed to be so...normal. Leon gave off some of the most naive vibes you've ever seen in a man and was completely wide-eyed as you showed him around the Raccoon City police station. He was barely listening, instead opting for a look around at the former museum's unique architectural structuring.

"Officer Kennedy," you sighed, placing a hand on your hip. "Are you paying attention? We have a lot to get through today, so there's really no time for you to be daydreaming."

"Sorry, officer." he sheepishly replied. "I'm listening."

"Thank you," you reply gently, opening the door to the Office. "So, like I was saying, this is your desk." You place a hand on the cool oak surface, your nails tapping against the wood. "It was mine when I first got here, a few months ago. It's the desk given to all the new recruits. You'll be working here starting tomorrow, but today, you're with me." You say, stretching your thickly-lined, glossed lips into a smile.

Leon eagerly nodded in acknowledgment. He was clearly anxious, his restlessness giving way to awkward looks up and down your body.

"By the way officer, you have a beautiful smile. I'm excited to be working with you today."

"Why thank you, Officer Kennedy. You know, I think we're gonna get along just fine."

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚┊ ˚➶ ｡˚｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ x ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆┊ ˚➶ ｡˚┊ ˚➶ ｡˚

Working across from one another in your office was how the day was supposed to go. And that's how it started-- innocent jokes cracked and laughs shared between the two of you as you passed paperwork back and forth across your desk. The occasional hands meeting and legs brushing under the table weren't intentional, nor were they unwelcome. Every time the two of your bodies met, your eyes did the same. Until about 4:30, when the day had started to wind down, all of your work was done, and you found yourself killing time by doing anything to coax that honey-coated laugh out of his throat.

"So yeah, basically avoid making peanut butter sandwiches in front of your dog."

Leon chuckled. That faraway look had manifested itself in his eyes again. You sigh contentedly to the satisfaction of hearing your new favorite sound. "Well, it's 4:45 officer," Leon stretched his arms upwards as he said it, his navy button-up lifting slightly. "Guess I'd better be heading back to my desk with these forms."

You nod wordlessly. You take the manila folder with his files and stand. You're walking over to the opposite side of the desk where he sits. Just as you're beginning to pass him, you're interrupted by his warm hand grabbing hold of your wrist.

"Unless you wanna put in some overtime?"

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚┊ ˚➶ ｡˚｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ x ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆┊ ˚➶ ｡˚┊ ˚➶ ｡˚

"Mmmh, fuck!"

Next thing you know, you're bent over your desk getting your pussy devoured from the back. Leon's in your folds like he's doing laundry. His fingers occasionally swipe your clit and spread your slick from your sopping hole over the sensitivity. He leans back, catching his breath in rapid increments.

"Such a good, obedient girl f'me." He slips two fingers into you. Your walls instantly constrict his meaty digits. "Aren't you supposed to be my superior officer?" He begins pumping in and out of your pussy, fingers curled as he hits your g-spot slow, deep, and firm. You can't help but squirm underneath his painfully slow touch. "You don't do this for all your new recruits, do you, officer?"

You shake your head frantically. Doing your best to choke back your moans, You reach back to grab Leon's hair and find yourself grasping at nothing. He's stopped to say something taunting to you about suppressing your sounds, but all you can make out in your dazed state is "Come on officer, you wanted me to listen, right? I'm listening, but now you don't have much to say, huh?

All you could muster was an "mmph", your hand still cupped over your mouth. Your lashes fluttered in pure ecstasy as his breathy words teased your hole. You hear him stand behind you and unbuckle his belt, then spit on his hand, whispering curses as he gives himself a few strokes. You turn on your back and sit up on the desk. Your panties are at your ankles, your lip combo is smudged, and your button-up has been unbuttoned to reveal some cleavage. Leon turns back around to face you, and your mouth falls slightly agape. He has a tuft of hair running from his navel to the base of his dick. His abdomen is decently toned. You spread your legs and beckon him to step between them, which he does eagerly. Your knees curl themselves around his waist, pulling him in. One of his large hands grabs your wrists so your mouth stays exposed, while the other aligns himself with your hole. He carefully slides in, giving you time to adjust to his size. You lean forward to kiss Leon's plump, pinkish lips, squirting from your earlier stimulation added to the new sensation of Leon totally inside you. Your walls rapidly contract around him. You both hiss in unison from the intoxicating pleasure, and he quickly takes a one-handed grip on your waist. Leon begins pounding your pussy relentlessly. You can't do anything but moan loudly and dig your nails into his shoulder, head thrown back as he repeatedly hits your cervix with enough force to rock the desk back and forth. His dick is thick and warm. You fit around it like a leather glove.

"F-fuck.. good girl," Leon stammers. Moans slip from his lips as his strokes become increasingly haphazard. He shoots his load into you and pulls out. A string of his semen connects the two of you. One of his hands grips your chin, and you share another sweet kiss, the two of you struggling to catch your breath.

"Remind me not to listen to you more often."

[dollsonmain]

Anyway, the incident described earlier is why I think that, were I in charge of things like a store with a drink cooler, I would have a hose and a floor drain set up in the cooler, and all steel shelving so everything can be easily rinsed off when needed and the shelving itself would not be prone to mold.

Though I know that would be expensive af.

If I could have just grabbed a hose and given all the product covered in Monster a quick rinse off, that would have been ideal. It's all going to be sticky. All I could do was try to wipe things off with a damp paper towel.

So the stuff she added to my morning

First thing in the morning is to unlock the door, scoot inside, relock the door, and turn off the alarm.

Then I have coffee to start, which is set up the night before, lights to turn on, turn on the CCTV TVs, turn on more lights, other lights, then change the gas prices for the early morning promotion which I don't think we need to do at all because people come in and pay the full price before I open even.

And then I'm to heat up some of the breakfast sandwiches and put them in the little hot case, but only one of each! Only one! So I spend a lot of time refilling it. I could fit like, 3 of each, but no. Just the one.

Ok...

Then I'm to start making more sandwiches to put into the cold case. That seems to be my job, now, making sandwiches from 6 am to 11 am because I'm supposed to fill both the hot and cold cases up again as they run lower instead of having a back stock of pre-made sandwiches in the freezer or in the cooler made the night before after hours when there were no customers.

....

Anyway.

Now I'm also supposed to heat up hot dogs on the hot dog roller at 8 am and take them off at 9:30 to put in the hot case. She doesn't seem to understand how hot dog rollers are meant to be used. They open the way they do and have a clear case like that because customers are supposed to take them from the hot roller, put them on buns, put their condiments, etc. The hot dogs are meant to stay on the roller until they're discarded.

Anyway, after taking the hot dogs off the roller I'm supposed to clean it, but I can't do that because I have to go into the back room to wash dishes and I can't watch the register at the same time. There's no window or anything.

Not that I can see between the new Zyn case and the old cigarette case anymore anyway. That was the only way I could see if there were customers while making sandwiches. Now I have to put everything down and walk around to see.

Very annoying.

I miss the Wegman's cheese department bull pit. It was so well designed.

And about the same size, now that I think about it...

Nostalgia scribble incoming.

[msmercury84]

"I Double Dare You" "The Guarneres Reminisce About the Peeping Tom of Aldebourne"

*Author's note: This story came from my imagination. Warning: Small scene with smut.*

***********************************************************************

One autumn evening in 1945, as Bill and Leigh were seated on the couch listening to the radio, lyrics from one song made Leigh laugh. She told him,

"That reminds me of Aldebourne. Honey, do you remember the peeping tom that had the village in a bit of an uproar?" Guarnere chuckled,

"I sure do, Baby. That's (he pronounced the word as "dats") when I thought he was spyin' on us the day we had the picnic."

*****************************************************************

Training was over for the day on a Friday in May, 1943. The men of Easy Company were looking forward to having a much needed break the following day.

Since the men knew in advance about their day off, Leigh planned a picnic for herself and Bill. She made sandwiches from homemade Italian sausage and homemade bread. Spencer found some onions and garlic in the farmers' market in the village that would be cooked with the sausage.

Bill bought a good, relatively inexpensive bottle of red wine from Andrew Herriott, the owner and bartender of The Blue Boar. Leigh improvised a primitive type of antipasto from vegetables and some ham that was sold in the farmers' market. She also had a few apples and some freshly baked pizzelles.

*****************************************************************

One month before the picnic, American servicemen stationed in the Aldebourne area, the girls they dated and a few residents of the village became concerned about a peeping tom.

A soldier from Dog Company and his date thought that someone was spying on them. One week later, the same thing happened to a soldier from Charlie Company and his date. Both couples had been enjoying each other's company in a secluded pasture on a country lane.

On both occasions, when the men looked around the pasture, there was no sign of a peeping tom. The young women refused to go out with the soldiers again until the peeping tom was apprehended. The servicemen who had to wait until the suspect was nabbed by the village constable were extremely eager for this person to be caught.

Two local sisters, the Taylors, sold their parents' farm after the deaths of their mother and father. They moved into a stone cottage not far from Leigh's and Melissa's house in the village. Both women were in their early 30s and were attractive and shapely with brown hair and blue eyes.

One evening, as the eldest sister, Jean, was locking the front door, getting ready to go to bed, her younger sister, Ava, was in her downstairs bedroom. Ava preferred to sleep with the window open for fresh air. She kept the blind pulled halfway down the window for privacy.

Standing with her back to the window, Ava removed her clothing and put on a nightgown. She was planning to put her clothes into a hamper that was close to her bed when she heard the sound of footsteps outside her window.

Ava thought that someone was walking home from one of the pubs and thought nothing of the incident. She placed the clothes in the hamper and was on her way to turning off the light in her room when she froze in her tracks.

The sound of heavy breathing was unmistakable and it seemed to be outside her window. Ava went to a closet and got out her father's shotgun, sticking the barrel out of the open window. She startled Jean by shouting,

"Get away from here, you pervert or I'll shoot your bollocks (balls) off!" The sound of heavy footsteps walking away relieved Ava. Jean came into her room, asking,

"Did you see who it was? Are you OK?" Jean learned that Ava didn't see the heavy breather and that she was unharmed.She told her younger sister,

"Good job you have Father's gun and you know how to use it. I don't think we need to worry about being bothered again. Even if this peeping tom isn't in his right mind, he isn't mad (crazy) enough to risk losing his bollocks." Jean went to her bedroom and both women were soon asleep.

Early the next evening when Bill arrived for supper, Jean introduced herself and said that she was coming to speak to Leigh. Guarnere opened the door for her, telling Spencer,

"Sweetheart, Miss Taylor, the lady from next door want to talk wit'ya." Leigh welcomed Jean into the house and asked her to have a seat in the living room. Spencer offered her visitor a cup of tea and Jean accepted it. After Leigh made the tea and brought in a tray with cups, milk, the tea pot, and napkins, she served her guest, herself and Bill some tea. She told her neighbor,

"I'm sorry that I don't have lemon slices and sugar. Lemons are hard to find and sugar rationing is taking its toll." Taylor smiled, commenting,

"It's fine. We've the same situation at our house and we're all doing our bit for the war effort." She took her tea with a small amount of milk. Guarnere and Spencer preferred their tea without milk.

Jean told Bill and Leigh about her sister's experience with the peeping tom and asked the couple if they had heard or seen anything the previous evening.

Both Guarnere and Spencer said that they noticed nothing out of the ordinary. Leigh told Jean,

"We were listening to the radio. Sorry, the wireless, and the blinds were down, so we didn't see anything." Then, Jean laughed, telling them what her sister said to the stranger outside her window. Leigh laughed and Bill asked,

"No disrespect intended, but what are ya callin' 'bollocks'" Jean slightly blushed,

"It's male anatomy, two, erm...items." Bill laughed as he realized what Jean meant.

"I'm not laughin' at ya, Miss Taylor, I never heard 'em called that name before. You ladies ain't got nothin' to worry about. A man doesn't wanna lose important parts like that."

"That's what I told my sister."

"I'll keep an eye on your place. If you ladies ever need help, just call Leigh an' I'll be glad to help ya." Spencer wrote down the telephone number and handed it to Jean. She thanked Bill and Leigh, then left while she could still have enough light to feel safe walking outside. Guarnere offered to walk her home if she was scared, but Jean assured him that she was fine.

The following day, news of the heavy breathing outside the neighbor's window made its way through the village. Colonel Sink decided to send a few servicemen to help patrol the village with the constable. The soldiers who were denied recreation with their girlfriends until the peeping tom was caught eagerly volunteered.

One month later, the colonel decided to discontinue the servicemen's patrolling of the village. The constable and Sink thought that the peeping tom was discouraged from his activities due to the inclusion of soldiers who were being trained to fight in the war.

The following weekend, one soldier and his girlfriend were sitting under a tree near a rural property lined by a fence and some trees. While the couple began to remove a few items of each other's clothing, the young woman heard someone walking near the fence line that was obscured by trees.

She looked up and was startled to see a shock of red hair. Then, she noticed brown eyes gazing back at her. She screamed and her boyfriend immediately put on his uniform shirt. He told her,

"Stay here, I'm gonna teach this guy a lesson he won't forget." As the young woman buttoned her blouse and tucked it into her skirt, the soldier walked toward the fence, loudly saying,

"Clear out of here, buddy, or you're asking for trouble." He heard the sound of someone walking away from the fence line. By the time the soldier climbed over the fence, there was no sign of the peeping tom, only cattle standing in the field.

His girlfriend was in no mood to return to their previous activities and she insisted upon going home. As they walked to the village she said,

"He must have been very short because his eyes looked to be at the level of a child." Her boyfriend replied,

"He was probably bending over to peer through the leaves." Word soon spread throughout the area that the mysterious "peeper," the name given by the residents of the village, was a "ginger" (red hair), having unkempt, long hair and brown eyes.

******************************************************************""

On the day of the picnic, Leigh packed the food into a large basket along with cloth napkins, two plates, two wine glasses and a medium sized blanket. She wore a red day dress, along with the usual undergarments, stockings and a pair of low heeled black pumps commonly called 'flats.'

Spencer brushed her hair, touched up her make up and reapplied her red lipstick. Bill soon arrived with the bottle of red wine. He insisted on carrying the large picnic basket. They left the cottage and held hands as they walked on a road leading from the village to a secluded country lane.

Neither Guarnere nor Spencer had been in this area before. Leigh told Bill that the lane reminded her of home.

"If this is where ya wanna have the picnic, Sweetheart, it's fine wit' me. Let's look for a nice, quiet spot in case we wanna get up to somethin' later."

"In case we want to get up to somethin'? Are you falling out of love with me already, Sergeant Guarnere?" Bill noticed the impish twinkle in her eyes and he grinned.

"Ain't no danger o' that happenin', Baby. You got my heart for eternity. I love seein' ya in red. You look good enough to eat."

"Is that a promise? " she slightly blushed before adding, "I mean the part about 'eating.'" Guarnere had a wicked grin as he said,

"Oh, I guarantee it. You ain't the only one enjoyin' it. You taste so damn good!"

"Bill, not so loud, a farmer might be working close by."

"I'm tellin' the truth. 'course I don't wanna encourage somebody to watch us. Sorry 'bout that. I'll try to keep it down so everybody don't know our business."

"Thanks, Honey. You're very good at that...you know what I mean."

"You bet I know!" Spencer laughed,

"Smart ass." They walked past a small house with a gate surrounding it. After passing the house, they went around a curve in the lane and found an ideal spot for the picnic and privacy.

An isolated pasture with three large trees was a short walk from the road. The pasture was lined on three sides of its perimeter by trees instead of fences.

Someone must have owned the pasture because the grass wasn't tall and choked with weeds. Bill looked around to see if there was a farm house tucked away within sight of the pasture.

He didn't see a house close by and he decided that this area had enough privacy for a picnic and some erotic activity. Bill and Leigh walked toward the trees in the center of the pasture.

They decided to sit under a large oak tree that was flanked by two other oak trees. A gentle breeze was blowing and they sat in the shade after they spread the blanket on the ground.

Leigh unpacked the picnic basket, setting out the food, plates, silverware, napkins and two wine glasses. Bill got the bottle opener and the bottle of red wine out of the basket. He opened the wine bottle and poured some wine in each glass.

Guarnere grinned as he noticed the sandwiches.

"Homemade bread an' homemade Italian sausage. It smells great! You're one hell of a good cook." He stopped himself from saying what he thought, "You'll be a perfect wife, Sweetheart" Bill didn't think it was the right time to propose to Leigh. Although he was fairly sure that she would agree to marry him, he thought it best to wait and find out how she really felt about marriage.

Leigh got out a dish with a small lid and opened it,

"I made a kind of makeshift antipasto from your mom's recipe. I hope it turned out OK."

Guarnere got a fork and put some of the antipasto on his plate. He sampled it.

"This reminds me o' Ma's cookin'. You done a good job wit' this, Baby." Leigh was pleased that he liked the side dish. They enjoyed the sandwiches and they casually talked while they ate their lunch.

Leigh got out a small box and opened it.

"How about a few pizzelles, Honey? If you don't feel like having cookies I brought apples, too." Bill got two cookies out of the box,

"You're spoilin' me, Sweetheart. Ya shouldn't have gone to so much trouble."

"It was no trouble at all. I like to make your favorite dishes." Spencer laughed at Guarnere sneaking another cookie out of the box.

"Eat as much as you want. I won't slap your hand if you want another cookie. I saved the sugar rations to make them."

"I gotta keep my cookie swipin' in good shape for when we get back home. It's kind of a joke wit' me an' Ma. When I was a kid, she wanted to make sure everybody got equal amounts o' food.

Pizzelles have always been my favorite. I'd eat two of 'em real fast. When Ma wasn't lookin', I'd swipe a few more. One time, when I was real little, Maria an' Teresa were watchin' me so I wouldn't get into the cookies.

I started cryin' 'cause I wanted another cookie. They felt sorry for me, an' they said,

'Oh, the poor baby! He must be hungry.' Then they each gave me half a pizzelle. I made out like a bandit an' I showed those dirty (he pronounced the word as 'doity') rats. I was smart, like a fox." Leigh giggled at the story,

"How many times did that work for you?"

"Just a couple o'times. Ma got a real kick out o'it, so I didn't get in trouble." He noticed that Spencer's glass was empty.

"Would ya like a little more o' the wine?"

"Yes, just a little bit. It's really good."

"The guy at The Blue Boar said this was a nice red wine. It ain't bad. I think I'll have a little more, too." Guarnere poured the wine. He leaned back against the tree. Leigh moved back to sit with him and Bill put his arm around her shoulders.

They sipped the wine and relaxed, enjoying the sunshine and the peaceful pasture. When they finished the wine, Bill decided to recline on the blanket. He rested his head on Leigh's lap.

She stroked his hair and had her arms around him. Guarnere reached up and gently pulled her close for a kiss. The kiss quickly deepened and he sucked the tip of her tongue into his mouth.

Bill reluctantly broke off the kiss,

"Stretch out beside me, Baby. It'll be easier than bendin' down to kiss me. He moved aside and Leigh lay beside him. Guarnere put his arms around her and the kissing resumed.

They enjoyed the slow, sensual kisses. Leigh sighed into Bill's mouth as his tongue explored her mouth.

Guarnere moved his hands down to Spencer's hips, pulling her as close to him as possible. He paused to kiss her eyelids, then he gently nipped at her ear before kissing her neck.

Bill loved the little gasp from Leigh when his lips touched the soft skin on her neck. He unbuttoned the top button of her day dress, kissing every inch of exposed skin as he unbuttoned the next button on her dress.

Leigh was caressing Bill's back, loving the feeling of his lips on her skin.

"If you keep this up, I'll be tempted to strip off everything and ask you to make love to me. We've never done it outdoors." Guarnere found the idea extremely arousing.

"I love the way you're kinda wild. Sweetheart, I don't wanna disappoint ya, but I didn't bring anything' wit' me for protection, 'cause I wasn't sure if ya would wanna make love outdoors."

"You're not disappointing me, Bill. I'm sure we can think of something. How about I do what you promised to do for me? I enjoy it, and I need to practice so I can be good at pleasing you that way."

"Only if ya really wanna do it, Baby. I don't want ya to think ya have to do that."

"I love all of you, and you taste pretty damned good, too."

"Then, I'm all yours. Do whatever ya want wit' me. Seems like I was gettin' ready to do somethin'..." He moved down and started to slowly trail kisses up Leigh's leg, moving her dress up a little.

Bill repeated the same actions on her other leg and Leigh felt herself becoming wet. She moved her dress up above her knees.

"Looks like my angel is tellin' me to move a little faster." He chuckled before kissing his way to her thigh. Leigh opened her legs slightly to accommodate him. Bill lowered his voice for only Leigh to hear,

"I think my beautiful baby is already nice an' wet. I'm gonna enjoy takin' those panties off so I can taste you." He moved her dress up further and licked the silk fabric between her legs.

" Baby, you taste good!" Bill sucked her silk covered clit.

"Oh, my God! That feels wonderful." Guarnere continued sucking her clit. A few minutes later, Leigh came. Bill enjoyed her sounds of passion. He began to remove her panties.

Suddenly, she heard the sounds of heavy footsteps near the line of trees in front of them. Keeping her voice down, she told Guarnere,

"Somebody is on the other side of those trees." Bill turned away, to rearrange himself in his trousers to hide the sign of his arousal and swore under his breath. Spencer quickly pulled her dress down to cover herself.

"Where did ya hear the noise, Baby?" She pointed to the trees closest to them. Bill looked in the direction Leigh was pointing, keeping his voice low as he told her,

"I don't wanna scare ya, but I see some brown eyes an' red hair. That guy almost has hair in his eyes. He must be a nut. No wonder he's watchin', no girl would go out wit' somebody lookin' that bad. I know one thing, his peepin' days are over!"

Guarnere got up and quietly approached the area where the peeping tom stood. Leigh followed behind him, not feeling afraid since Bill was with her. She was angry that the peeper spied on them and she was ready to give him a piece of her mind.

Bill used a type of hand signal that was becoming second nature to him. He had his right hand, palm down, pushing in a downward motion.

"What does that mean?"

"It means stand down, stay back. Sorry, Baby, we've been learnin' all sorts o' hand signals lately." All at once, a large tongue appeared from behind a branch. Guarnere replied,

"What the hell...?" Leigh started laughing,

"It's a cow!"

She moved a small branch and revealed the face of a bovine absorbed in eating a few leaves. Leigh quickly looked down, wanting to see the underside of the animal so she would know if it was a cow or a bull. Bill told her,

"I see horns on that thing. It's a bull. I may be from the city, but I know bulls are dangerous. We gotta get movin'!"

"Cows can have horns, too. I looked at its undercarriage, so to speak, and I saw udders. You're right, bulls aren't something to mess with. If I'd seen something else, I would've kicked off these shoes so I could run faster and told you to run like hell." She looked at the cow, still munching on leaves,

"I wonder if this is the local peeper. Think about it, the cow has shaggy red hair and brown eyes. It walks with a sort of heavy step and sometimes cows sound as if they're doing some heavy breathing."

"You might be on to somethin', Sweetheart. It makes sense. No wonder nobody saw the guy when they went lookin' for him. A cow standin' in a field ain't an unusual sight around here. How can we prove what you said?" Leigh thought about a solution and carefully went through the branches to get closer to the cow.

"This always worked when one of my grandpa's cows got out of the fenced in pasture or if he was trying to get the cows into the barn to milk them." She gently swatted the cow's rump, telling it,

"Go home!" The cow turned around and started walking away. Leigh followed it,

"Don't worry about the basket and the blanket, we can get it later. Let's follow the cow home and we can talk to the farmer. Once you're in this pasture, remember to look down frequently or you could have fresh cow pie on your boots.

Cows 'go' whenever and wherever the notion strikes them, and there might be several smelly 'land mines' scattered around." Bill chuckled, thanking Leigh for her tip.

"I learned somethin' new today. Too bad we never had the chance to get Sobel in this field an' not tell him about those land mines. It would have been funny as hell to see his boots covered in cow shit." He took Leigh's hand as they walked across the pasture.

As they strolled toward the barn, Bill noticed a man who appeared to be in his late 60s walking toward the cow. The tall, slightly heavy set man was bald with a fringe of white hair and blue eyes. He wore sturdy boots, well worn brown trousers, suspenders and a light brown shirt rolled up to expose his sun tanned arms. Both Bill and Leigh heard the man say,

"So there you are, Delilah. I see you broke out of the barnyard again. I've half a mind to sell you next market day." He noticed the American soldier and presumably his girlfriend approaching him, asking,

"Young man, are you and your young lady lost?" Guarnere smiled,

"Sir, my name is Bill Guarnere, Sergeant Guarnere, an' this is my girl, Leigh Spencer. No, Sir, we ain't lost." The man introduced himself to the couple,

"My name is James Alderson and this is my farm. If you don't mind my asking, why are you following my cow?" Leigh grinned,

"This will sound as if I'm crazy. Have you heard about the local peeping tom? I have reason to believe that your cow could be the 'peeper'." Alderson looked a bit puzzled,

'Yes, I know about the peeper. Why do you think Delilah is the perpetrator?"

"Mr. Alderson, as you know, the peeper is supposed to have unruly red hair and brown eyes. Delilah wasn't in your pasture when she made her presence known during the picnic we were having.

The peeping tom is supposed to have a heavy footed walk and is also known for heavy breathing. I grew up in a rural area of Ohio and I'm familiar with cattle. I'm guessing the heavy breathing is Delilah sort of snorting, for lack of a better word.

Does she have a habit of getting out of your pasture?" Alderson considered what Spencer told him, then he started to chuckle. The chuckle grew into loud laughter as he said,

"I never dreamed that my cow would cause havoc in the village." He laughed again, "She flummoxed the constable. He couldn't find a man and even got some of you Yank soldiers to help find the elusive peeper." He opened a gate to the barnyard and Delilah walked in, heading for some food in the barn. Before the cow got past him, Alderson patted her back and chuckled,

"You made quite a stir." Then, he answered Leigh's question, "Yes, Delilah has a bad habit of getting out of the fenced in area near the barn. She likes an occasional stroll in the village, too." Spencer asked,

"There were no peeping tom reports for a month, did you find a way to keep her at home?"

"I kept Delilah in the barn during that time. It seemed the perfect solution to her escaping, but she was unhappy. She didn't eat as much as she normally did. I rang (called) a veterinarian, thinking she was ill.

He said that she was depressed, not physically ill. I never realized that cows could feel depressed. The doctor also told me that she's getting out because she's looking for companionship. Delilah should be very happy next week, I'm getting her bred with a bull who lives down the road." Bill made Leigh blush a bit when he asked Alderson,

"In other words, Sir, are ya sayin' that she's lookin' for some action? I know I'm happier..." he noticed that Leigh was blushing and decided to leave well enough alone, adding, "Never mind, Sir, I'm talkin' too much." Alderson tried to suppress a grin as he figured out why Spencer was embarrassed.

"Yes, that's another way of saying the same thing. No harm done, Sergeant Guarnere. If you or your young lady see Delilah again, just send her home. I'm going into the village to speak with the constable and clear up this peeper situation.

Would you and your young lady like a lift into town? My vehicle isn't working at the moment, so I'm taking my horse and wagon." Both Guarnere and Spencer thanked Alderson, declining the ride back to the village. Bill replied,

"We appreciate ya offerin' to take us into town, but we need to get the picnic basket an' some other stuff. It ain't that much of a walk." Alderson excused himself in order to go to the barn and get the wagon and horses ready for the trip into the village.

Bill and Leigh left the farm and went back to retrieve their items from the picnic before they walked back to the house Leigh shared with Melissa. Residents of the village were relieved to learn that the peeper situation was over and they were amused to learn that a cow straying from her pasture was their suspect. Leigh was jokingly called "Sherlock Holmes" and "Cowgirl" by George Luz since she figured out the identity of the peeping tom.

***********************************************************************

After Bill and Leigh finished reminiscing about the peeper, Bill told Leigh,

"I had another run in wit' a cow in Normandy. The krauts shot a cow on some guy's farm. We were hungry an' a guy from C Company was fightin' wit' us. He got separated from his unit an' he tagged along until he caught up wit' 'em again.

This kid grew up on a farm an' he said we could eat some fresh beef instead o' those lousy rations. He told us that he would dress the cow an' then we could start cookin' the meat.

I didn't know he was talking' about cuttin' up the carcass for meat. I thought he was nuts an' he was gonna try to put a dress on the cow." Leigh laughed,

"Was the meat good?"

"It was real good, but we had to be careful eatin' because there was a lot o' shrapnel in it. We cooked it over a fire we built. I wonder if that guy got back home?"

"I hope he got back. I'm glad you got home, you're somethin' else, Honey. Even if you did tell Mr. Alderson that we were sleeping together." Guarnere smirked,

"Are ya telling' me you don't feel happier after gettin' up to somethin'?"

"Of course I feel happier, you adorable smart ass!" Bill winked at her,

"That's my baby!"

*Author's note: The story of the cow in Normandy came from Bill's and Babe's book. I paraphrased the story. The story about Bill's older brother and sisters giving him extra cookies is true. I changed it from doughnuts to cookies. The quotes about "Oh, the poor baby" and "Smart like a fox also came from his book.*

@marycorleone @billguarnereimagine @hbowar @william-guarnere @billguarneresmut @bellewintersroe @wildbillguarnere @footprintsinthesxnd @alluringmoonlightbabe @cielie-voss @breadsprinkles @belladonnange @wexbandxofxbrothers @f-1-and-shiz @brassknucklespeirs @leksi-rae @cagzzz107 @lenabob @lizziebitch33 @vibing-away

[mysoulspiralbound]

HC /episode idea for gravity falls that at some point staying during the summer (either mid show or next summer au) mabel very firmly decides she's going to go vegetarian

maybe someone's made one too many jokes about eating waddles, especially if she's got bacon on her plate as they say it. maybe stan guts a fish on one of their trips out to the lake that reminds her just a bit too much of mermando. whatever it is, it's mabel's final straw against eating anything that used to be cute and alive ever again.

obviously stan doesn't get it, and probably calls mabel ridiculous a few times, but that's his grand niece you're talking about, and he's not just gonna let the kid go hungry. so the first couple of meals he puts together something dumb like a carrot stick to replace a hot dog, or a sandwich that's just lettuce and hay — complete disaster meals.

now from here i see this going one of two ways. option A is that after a few of these "meals" in a row, mabel is obviously still hungry (no matter how happy she looks after the fact), and dipper's been giving him side eyes for the last couple of days. sure stan doesn't get it, pigs are food for heck's sake, but he is absolutely gonna make sure his kid gets the nutrition she needs.

so he figures out how to cook a veggie burger, he starts adding sprouts and leafy shit into his normal recipes, plates the meats on the side, and stocks up on all kids of tree nuts and beans and anything else he can think of to keep his kid happy and healthy. oh he is never gonna touch the stuff himself (not after the accidental tofu incident), but he becomes damn good at cooking it, and really, that's what counts. neither of the kids are actually happy about the extra vegetables, but it's the trade off for mabel's new lifestyle, and dipper finds he does actually enjoy the diversity (even if he still goes to greasy's from time to time when he's craving real junk food). and mabel does appreciate the extra effort, even if it takes her a while to notice, and well, there isn't really anything that would be to much effort for a mabel hug, not to stan.

option B for this episode plot would go the other way, with mabel going gung-ho on no one eating meat in the family, and it gets way out of hand. possibly including a fight with wendy about her family's hunting trips. eventually they wind up fighting some kind of monster or chemical or whatever gravity falls brand weirdness cooked up for them today: something capable of animating all the plants in gravity falls and starting a vegetation uprising. mabel winds up befriending some radishes or onions or other small plant, and one winds up dying in it's attempts to defend her. she's heart broken, even after they get all the plants back to normal, and refusing to eat anything, plant or animal.

eventually ford and/or dipper have to sit her down and explain that, yeah, interspecies friendships can be cute, but ultimately, as a person, mabel is always going to need to eat. the same way she'd never ever even consider cutting waddles off from his food bowl, the same way it would be cruel to withhold meat from an obligate carnivore like a cat. the best you can do is try and source your food ethically, and make sure the livestock you eat live the best lives they could. stan would normally call it a waste of people food, but he even goes so far as to make waddles an identical portion to mabel's until she understands how much her familiy's worried about her. it's the cute pet comparisons that get to mabel more than the complex ecosystem stuff, but eventually she starts eating again (whether she stays vegetarian or not is up to you) and the grunkles are just relived their kid's eating again.

[yuliiadentist]

Once upon a time, in the land of Crooked Smiles, there lived a mischievous teenager named Timmy. Now, Timmy had a smile that resembled a roller coaster ride, with twists and turns that could make anyone dizzy! His parents, tired of seeing their son struggle to eat corn-on-the-cob or pronounce "orthodontist," decided it was time for a change.

They took Timmy to Dr. Grinsalot, a renowned orthodontist known for his quirky sense of humor. Upon examining Timmy's crooked grin, Dr. Grinsalot exclaimed, "Timmy, your teeth are on a wild adventure, but fear not, my friend! We shall embark on a journey of aligners that will straighten your teeth faster than a cheetah chasing a pizza delivery guy!"

Timmy's eyes widened with both excitement and confusion. He envisioned his teeth racing each other on a racetrack, wearing tiny helmets and shouting, "Straighten up, everyone! We're going for gold!" Dr. Grinsalot chuckled at Timmy's imagination.

The next day, Timmy received his first set of clear aligners. As he put them on, he felt like a secret agent, with a superpower that could transform his smile. But little did he know, these aligners had a sense of humor too!

Every time Timmy tried to eat, his aligners would play a little game of hide-and-seek. He would take them out, place them on a napkin, and before he knew it, they would vanish! One time, Timmy found them inside his sandwich, pretending to be a tooth fairy on vacation.

Despite the aligners' shenanigans, Timmy remained determined. He diligently wore them day and night, following Dr. Grinsalot's instructions. As each week passed, he noticed his teeth slowly straightening, like a game of Tetris where all the pieces fell into place.

One day, Timmy woke up to find his aligners missing. Panicked, he searched high and low until he discovered his dog, Buddy, chewing on something suspicious. It was his last set of aligners, now resembling a modern art masterpiece.

With just a few weeks left of treatment, Timmy faced a dilemma. He couldn't bear to tell his parents about the incident, but he couldn't continue without the aligners. Desperate, he decided to confess to Dr. Grinsalot.

To his surprise, Dr. Grinsalot burst into laughter upon hearing the story. He reassured Timmy that accidents happen, and he would simply create a new set of aligners. "Consider it a souvenir from Buddy, your canine orthodontic consultant!" he joked.

In the end, Timmy triumphed over his crooked smile, thanks to the comical adventures of his aligners and the expertise of Dr. Grinsalot. And as he proudly showcased his beautifully straightened teeth, Timmy couldn't help but smile, knowing that his journey to a perfect smile had been an unforgettable, laughter-filled experience.

[trustwave]

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“We engage with the community in several places: On Steam forums, Reddit, our community forums, Discord, Facebook, Twitter and YouTube. Purchasing them in the Community Market. What are all the ways I can get Steam Award Trading Cards? You can get trading cards in a few ways: - As a reward for purchasing from the Steam Store. Downdetector only reports an incident when the number of problem reports is significantly higher than. It is common for some problems to be reported throughout the day. This chart shows a view of problem reports submitted in the past 24 hours compared to the typical volume of reports by time of day. Steam outages reported in the last 24 hours. Not sure if it's a temporary bug or they changed the algorithm. But now it priotitizes the popular games with "of" in their title. Before when i searched "Tales of" and the first results were always the "Tales of" Franchise. Many games have been given away in the chat, but we also have a large group of active users discussing gaming and others topics at all times.r/Steam Welcome to the Reddit Giveaway group! This group was created by Redditors so that we could have a community to give and receive steam games.

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One M1 Mac owner with 16GB RAM and a 2TB.

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Thanks in advance for your help!! I just created a steam account recently.

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Please remember you must own the steam background in your steam inventory. Next, will choose the background we want. Now you will recieve a warning saying that this is a non-official Valve website However, all that is happening is safe data from your account (eg Steam Level). SAUCE FLIGHT $ 2.Then will click login again. ON THE SIDE HAND BATTERED ONION RINGS & GOLDEN FRIES. Or applesauce and kid sized drink] SKINLESS HOT DOG

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UDI'S BRAND GLUTEN FREE HOT DOG AND HAMBURGER ROLLS KID'S CLUB MEALS [served with a small fry LIGHTLY FRIED UNTIL ITS GOLDEN AND DELICIOUS. CLASSIC DOGS REGULARīURGERS TRIPLE (9.6 oz TOTAL) We can go on and on, but words can’t do it justice.Ĭlick here to view our Tempe, Arizona menuįROM THE GRILL COOKED OVER REAL HARDWOOD CHARCOAL. Ice cold loganberry and milkshakes made with real ice cream. Hand battered onion rings and crisp golden french fries. Our homemade, secret family recipe hot sauce. The world’s best hot dogs, sausages, burgers and chicken sandwiches, cooked just the way you like it over a glowing bed of real hardwood charcoal.

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Mmm yeah screw it

Jeff the killer rewrite chapter(?) 1

It doesn't make much sense on it's own but this section takes place a few years after the whole incident

My phone's alarm goes off, my obnoxiously loud signal to wake up. I silence the noise, but the damage is done. I'm awake and so is Keith. "You're gonna start sleeping somewhere else if you don't turn that shit off," he says.

"What do you want me to do, be late to class?" I ask. He kicks me under the covers, and I'm starting to remember how much of a bitch he is in the mornings.

I force myself up, grab a random shirt and pair of jeans out of the basket and go into the bathroom. I do all the morning jazz, hair, teeth, making sure I smell decent enough. I probably should've showered last night, I reek of weed and cigarettes. Not that I usually don't smell like weed and cigarettes, but I think Travis Gramble is starting to regret sitting by me in math or whatever they wanna call it. Colleges give everything weird ass names. I change and coat myself in cologne, which will hopefully mask my odor.

I walk to the very small kitchen and start a pot of coffee. I hate that I thought morning classes were a good idea. Oh I've done it since I was little, it won't be any different. Turns out it's a lot easier to sell drugs and stay up all night in high school than in college. More customers, though, so more money. Which means I get to rub it in Keith's parents' faces that I can provide for myself.

The coffee finishes and I fix it how I like (which is apparently to bitter if you ask Troy.) I need breakfast, but soggy cereal and a cold sandwich isn't to appetizing. Maybe we still have some leftovers. I open the fridge and it's the emptiness fridge I've ever seen. We need to go grocery shopping, I guess I can do that after classes. Guess I'll just starve myself until then. I shut the fridge and go over to the door, grabbing a pair of socks out of the sock basket. It's time saving to keep your socks and shoes by the front door. Troy hates it because ever time he comes over he knocks the basket over but who gives a shit about what Troy thinks?

I try drinking my coffee, but I burn my tongue. "Fuck!" I yell. "Shut the hell up!" Keith yells back from the bedroom. I'm regretting our bunking decisions.

I probably don't even have time to finish this coffee, I'll just put it in the fridge until I get back. "I'm leaving, I love you!" I call. I get no response. "Dick," I mumble to myself. I put my coffee up and leave, making sure I have my key on me so my lovely boyfriend doesn't lock me out again. There's some hipster couple in the courtyard making out, and some kid running with half a sandwich in their mouth. I kinda hope they trip. Is that to mean? I've been working on that, been trying to be nicer. It sucks ass. Why is being kind preached to us? I haven't gotten a single thing out of it so far, though I guess karma from high school is due. It's a shit tone of karma.

"Randy!" I turn my head and almost fall when Troy knocks into me. "Dude, watch it," I say. "Sorry, thought I was gonna stop sooner," he says, "But hey, now we can walk to English together." "It's to early for me to have a conversation," I say starting my way to class. "That's fine, since I wanted to talk about this cute girl I met a few days ago" Troy says. "Another lesbian?" I joke. "Shut up, this one isn't going to be a lesbian," he says. "You said that about the last one," I tell him. "Yes, but I have a good feeling about this. I got her number!" Troy says. "What's her name?" I ask. "It's Ivy, and she's super cool! She's a huge sports fan, but she also reads a lot of comics. Mostly DC, which I don't get because I like Marvel more but whatever. Oh! and she has the cutest dog I've ever seen! His name is Brutus, and I think he's a bulldog mixed with a pitbull. And she recently started her own business, she help people decorate their homes," Troy explains.

"Mhm, how old is she?" I ask. "She's 28," Troy says. "She's nine years older than you," I say. "Yeah, but it's not like she's old," he says. "28 is pretty old," I say. "Sure it is," Troy says. He holds the door open for me and I walk to the classroom. "I hope Mr. Grays' hungover so he won't make us do anything," I say. "We already don't do anything," Troy says. "Yeah, but I'm tired of asking Madeline for notes," I say. "Then write your own," Troy says. "To lazy," I say. I take my seat, Troy settling beside me. Mr. Grays is holding his head at his desk, so I'm leaning to no work today.

After a few minutes, everyone else is in the class. Half of them have coffee from the cafe, lucky bastards. I take my phone and text Keith.

R: tell me what you want from the store

R: I'm going some time today

He surprisingly answers fairly quickly.

K: A new boyfriend

Asshole.

R: they don't sells those

R: dick

He sends a picture of him giving me the bird, but I could care less. He's just upset because my alarm woke him up and he can't fall back asleep. He'll go back to normal soon.

"You guys can do whatever, just do it quietly," Mr. Grays says. "Guess you got your wish," Troy says. "Mhm, do you think he'd care if we left?" I ask. "I mean, Carlos usually does and he doesn't say anything," Troy says, "Why?" I put my phone up before standing up and grabbing my bag. "I've got somewhere I need to go," I say. "Where? Back to your dorm?" Troy asks. "Nope, somewhere else," I say. "Can I know?" Troy asks. He sounds genuinely curious, but I'm to stubborn and proud to tell him. "Maybe later," I say.

I leave out of the classroom and head to Ms. Winifred's room, the campus counselor. I knock the door, just encase she has someone else in there. Look at me, being considerate and shit.

"Come in!" she calls. I open the door and walk in, and Ms. Winifred looks pleasantly surprised to see me. "Randy, you're back. I'm glad, got worried you wouldn't," she says. "Yeah, well I guess I have more I want to get out," I say. I sit down, setting my bag beside me. "How have you been?" Ms. Winifred asks. "Uh, okay. Nothing really big has happened. Well, Keith's parents want us to come visit for Thanksgiving," I say. "Ah, the parents who don't like you?" she says in a way that's a mix of a question and statement. "Yeah, those ones,"I say, "I'm not looking forward to it." "Mm, well there's no real doubt they'll be rude, but there's ways around it. You could give very short hand answers to anything they say that's weird or wrong," Ms. Winifred tells me. "Yeah, I guess so," I say, "but I actually wanted to talk about something else."

She swirls in her chair a little and grabs her coffee cup, "What is it?" "Well..." I'm fidgeting with my hands, and flashes of all of it are coming back to me. I tried to help, I did, I just... didn't.

"There was an incident when I was in high school, me and my friends were involved in it. A kid got hurt, really hurt. There wasn't anything anyone could do, I guess, but I wanted to help. I couldn't, or I-I didn't. I really did try to, though," I say, "It just didn't work."

Ms. Winifred looks sympathetic, which I guess it's her job to be. "Can I know what the incident was?" she asks. If I tell about the house fire, I'll have to say I caused it, which would tie me to him getting burned and someone loosing their home. And sure, legally she can't tell anyone, and it's been years but still. Someone else would know what I did, someone else would know what I caused. "No, I can't say it," I tell her. "Randy, this is a safe place to talk. No one else will know what you say except me-" "I just can't tell you, not now," I say. She sighs softly but nods, "Okay, well can you tell me why you think it was your fault?" This was a bad idea, there's no way to talk about it without her knowing. I'll have to tell her if I want help for this. "I hurt him, the boy, and it caused him to get hurt more. I tried helping him before he got hurt again but I couldn't." "And you blame yourself for him getting hurt?" she asks. "Yes."

"You tired helping him, though," Ms. Winifred says, "just because you weren't able to doesn't mean it's your fault. You can't blame yourself for something you couldn't have controlled." That'd be more comforting if it was true, but it's not. I'm sure when I said I hurt him she thought like a punch or two, which is far off. I beat the shit out of that kid, probably didn't help that he couldn't fight back. Always get your friends to hold back your victim, life lesson kids.

"I still could've done more," I say. "You *tried*," Ms. Winifred says, "You can't beat yourself up over the past, especially if you tried changing it. You can only heal, only learn from it." If I told her the truth, the full truth, she wouldn't be saying that. She'd be calling the cops on the boy who caused another to go crazy and... I'd be thrown in prison, that's the important bit. And as tough as I'd like to give myself credit for, I wouldn't survive in jail. I'd end up dead on the shower floor. Plus I leave Keith alone in the real world, he can't handle himself without me. Or maybe I'm just telling myself that so I don't think about him finding someone his parents like and doesn't have a troubled past. Those assholes probably wouldn't approve of anyone, though. Whatever, parents shouldn't be so expecting of their children. Keith is great person, his parents need to realize that. Maybe they have and just still hate me.

I spend the rest of English in Ms. Winifred's, the rest of my classes for the day I actually work in. Not to fear, though, I still have plenty of grocery shopping to do. I walk to the small store down the block from the college. It's owned by this very sweet old lady who I can never remember the name of. I grab one of the green baskets and go to the milk. Keith's weird ass doesn't drink actual milk, so I have to get almond milk. He's actually lactose intolerant, so it's not his fault but it's still a dollar-fifty extra. Damn him and his health conditions.

"I believe it, I mean he went mad."

I look over my shoulder to see a girl talking to another. "The cops are saying it's just a copycat, and I'm gonna take their word first," the other one says, her hair's in bun. "Well, do that, but the cases were basically the same," the first one says.

What the hell are they on about? Cases of what? Who the fuck watches the news to find this out? Why do I even care? I don't, curious but not enough to research or ask. I grab the expensive, fake milk and put it in the basket before moving on to the eggs and grabbing a carton. I grab some mixed vegetables in a bundle since it's cheaper than buying them all separate. So what if it's a small pack and will only last two nights, I'd argue that's better. I get some 99 cent noodle packs for us to barely live off of and some cereal. I grab some other small things for us and then check out, making my boring way back to the dorms. I walk in, almost hitting Keith with the door. "Welcome back, dick," he greets me. "No way to talk to the man who just bought your groceries," I say setting the bags on the counter. "It is a way to talk to the man that woke me up, though," he says. "God, Keith that was hours ago," I say, "It doesn't even matter." "It matters to my beauty rest," he says. I put the cold stuff away in our barren refrigerator. "That beauty rest ain't doing much in the beauty department," I say.

I feel a shoe get thrown at my back, it doesn't hurt but it does startle me. "You're being an asshole," Keith says. "I was messing, baby, you know you're the prettiest person I know," I say. "I better be," he says. He kisses my cheek, "I'll see you later. Don't forget we're going to my parents tomorrow for Thanksgiving." I groan, "Do I gotta? I mean Thanksgiving isn't until next Thursday and your parents don't like me. I could just spend it with Troy and his moms, I mean I have every other year." "Randy, I didn't argue with my parents for you to drop out last minute. C'mon, we're always talking about proving them wrong," Keith says. "And your siblings?" I ask. "Fuck 'em. *Ignore* them, they won't bother us," he says. I sigh, "Fine."

Keith grabs my hand, rubbing his thumb over it. "If it gets bad we'll leave. I promise," he says. I kiss him and I feel his hand move to my face to cup it. I pull back from the kiss, "Okay." Keith smiles at me before leaving for his classes.

[corrodedcoffinkid]

Favorite Autism/ Adhd Eddie Headcanon?

i have a few- consider this my apologies for not writing much these past few days. i do not celebrate the fourth for personal reasons but the holiday weekend in general has kept me weirdly busy.

so, here are my favorite headcanons

eddie chews on everything

he has very frequent and very physical meltdowns

he’s a really loud crier. this boy deadass sounds like a siren when he gets going.

chews on his hair

chews on himself

chews on robin

tried to chew on nancy

chews on steve

insane amount of developmental delays

did not talk for a very long time

goes nonverbal regularly

he can’t sit still and bounces all the time

not bothered by many hearing sensory issues but rather textural sensory issues

please don’t buy him a shirt as a surprise present. because if he hasn’t touched it and deemed it appropriate, he won’t wear it.

same way with bed sheets

still wets the bed and was getting better until the vecna incident and now it’s bad again

bad speech impediments that wayne taught him to work through

if he’s really exhausted or overstimulated, those speech impediments come back

falls asleep on his uncle if steve isn’t around

literally you need to sedate this man if you are taking him for any type of checkup

HATES medical attention

will kick you. will scream at you.

please just sedate him, the medical staff will thank you

Do Not touch his guitar

seriously, don’t.

loves metal music and will play specific parts of specific songs over and over and over and over and

not a dog person due to their unpredictableness as well as the stink they leave behind on your hands after you pet them

rubs face on things

chews on his baby blankie to sleep

one time he got so into a dnd campaign that he forgot to eat or drink or use the bathroom for a really long time

during those extreme hyperfixations, wayne usually tells him when to use the bathroom or take a drink. will also fix his nephew a sandwich

don’t get me started on food sensory issues

jesus christ this man eats maybe 5 foods

and none of them are vegetables

peanut butter sandwiches are cool

peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are not

either speaks really loud or in a whisper

autism didn’t really have levels back then, but he’s a level 1 heavily bordering on level 2 due to his support needs

probably could live independently if he really, really tried but he doesn’t want to live alone

has kind of childish fears- dentists, dark, storms, shots

but also has really mature fears such as being alone

but he knows he’s got steve and wayne

he’s happy

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

you ever eaten shark?

Summary: Jeff’s first time meeting Yelena doesn’t quite go to plan

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1888

Warnings: Jeff is sad :(

A/N: just saying, @wolferine did the research about eating shark, thank you for that

Part of The Jeff Fictional Universe

—————————————————

Today was the day Jeff had been waiting for, where Yelena came to visit. He’d heard all about her from Natasha, and how much she’d love him, but up until this point she’d been too busy to come over. So this would be his first time meeting his aunt, and needless to say, the land shark was very excited.

He’d been pacing in circles around the garden up until the moment the doorbell rang, at which point he beamed up at Natasha, then excitedly ran round in circles; had he not been so intelligent, you’d have thought he was chasing his own tail. “I’ll go get it” Natasha chuckled, leaving you to calm Jeff down and get him ready. Clint had also come to visit today, but he’d come over so often to do who knows what, that neither you, Natasha nor even Jeff paid him any mind.

“Jeff, Jeff, calm down little buddy” you huffed, trying to at least slow him down, but he continued with the excited bounds. “Jeff” you repeated more sternly, and he finally stopped, looking up at you with a wide smile and a hanging tongue as he panted.

“We’ll go meet Yelena in a bit, okay? we have to get cleaned up first, see? you’re covered in mud from all your running, and after that little spinning incident you’ve covered me with mud”

“Mrrr”

“Yeah, I know you were excited. I’ll go run you a bath so you can wash off while I change my clothes, how does that sound?”

“Mrrr”

“Good”

You scooped him up, getting even more mud on your clothes, just so he wouldn't traipse it through the house, before depositing him in the bathtub and starting the water running. You could hear him happily splashing about as you pulled out clean clothes.

It was only after you scrubbed Jeff clean that you thought to get changed yourself. He'd excitedly jumped up and down in the tub, dousing you in muddy water. You towel dried him, then left him to behave himself as you changed, but, of course, he didn't.

Jeff knew Yelena was just downstairs, and he was far too impatient to wait for you to be ready, constantly nudging and butting at your feet to hurry you up, until eventually you gave in.

"Fine, Jeff, I still need to dry my hair because of you, so you run on ahead and say hi"

"Mrrr!" he squealed, performing one last spin on the spot before dashing downstairs.

Natasha had heard you run upstairs, and the conversation you had been having with Jeff the whole time, so she knew you and the land shark would need a little longer to get ready.

Still, she brought Yelena through, chatting about what the younger Widow had been up to since she'd last come to visit. Natasha took her into the kitchen to say hi to Clint, though she still wasn't quite sure why he was here, but he killed some time and kept the conversation going longer.

"Should we move into the living room?" Natasha suggested after a bit, once Clint had finished making a sandwich for himself with their food.

"Do you have a dog?" Yelena almost shrieked, spotting the bed in the corner of the room, "Oh, but you told me not to bring Fanny, are they not friendly? I think they would like me"

"Oh it's not-" Natasha tried to interrupt, but Yelena was on a roll at the thought of her sister getting a dog,

"And it has a shark toy? oh, that is very cute. Natasha, do you remember when the Red Room gave us shark for like, a week?"

What none of the people in the room has noticed, however, was Jeff's entry into the room. He'd slowed himself down as he neared in an attempt to surprise the newcomer, but only reached the doorway before hearing the topic of conversation.

Jeff tilted his head, listening in to see whether he'd heard correctly. His eyes widened when Natasha gave an exasperated agreement.

"You've eaten shark?" Clint asked curiously, still yet to notice the land shark in the room. "What was it like?"

"Can we not-" Natasha began, only to be talked over by her sister once again,

"It was kind of like chicken in taste. A lot chewier though, kind of stringy, but it was nice!"

By this point, Jeff was trembling in the doorway. This was not the aunt he had been hoping for. "I know it's illegal now, but I can find you some if you want to try, I have my ways to get it"

Jeff screeched, bolting from the room as quickly as his legs could take them.

"what was that?" Yelena asked, "was that Y/N?"

Natasha swore quietly, turning just in time to see a grey tail tip disappear behind the entrance, "oh god that was Jeff"

"Who's Jeff?"

"Clint could you please explain, I need to go check he's okay" Natasha grimaced, already halfway up and out the door.

—————————————————

You were still in the process of drying your hair when a high shriek echoed around the house. You paused, and seconds later Jeff thundered into your room, bashing the door open with his head and stopping, staring up at you with tear-filled eyes.

You set everything down in an instant, crouching and opening your arms for Jeff to run into. "Jeff, what happened? What's up buddy?"

"m-m-" he shrieked again, unable to get his usual mrrr out. You didn't push him, cradling him in your arms and reassuring him as he trembled. You'd never seen him so upset, not even when you'd rescued him from literal torture.

Natasha burst in another few seconds later, panting from having to run up the stairs. Jeff yelped, tucking himself further into your chest and burying himself in your arms. Something Natasha had done must have scared him, you concluded.

"Natasha, what did you do?" you scolded in a hushed whisper, putting your hands over where you thought Jeff's ears might be; you still weren't really sure where he heard from.

"It wasn't- can I explain without Jeff present?"

"Jeff is shrieking and shaking and he won't even 'mrrr', he came to find me and he needs comfort"

"Y/N, I really need to. Otherwise he'll be more scared"

"Fine." You conceded, carrying Jeff gently back into the bathroom and running some shallow water for him to splash in while you and Natasha talked outside. He didn't splash though, he just lay, still trembling, in the centre of the tub. "I'll be back soon Jeff okay, I'll sort this out" you promised, shutting the bathroom door behind you.

As soon as it clicked shut, Natasha began her quick explanation, "Yelena was rambling and she saw Jeff Jr. and it reminded her of how we'd occasionally be served shark meat on the Red Room, and Yelena being Yelena she said it out loud, and we didn't realise Jeff had walked in the room"

"You let Yelena talk about eating shark when we have a shark in the house?!"

"I thought he was with you! he's a lot quieter than you when he's on his own so I couldn't hear him approach! Obviously I would have stopped her if I'd known"

"So now he thinks the aunt he was so excited to meet is going to eat him" you frowned, "but why was he afraid of you?"

Natasha's face gave it all away, and you gasped, "you didn't..."

"I might have admitted I ate shark too"

"Natasha! That could have been Jeff's grandpa!"

"I'm pretty sure it didn't have legs"

"You wouldn't know, because it was all cut up into chunks for you to eat"

"That's not the point! The point is that Jeff is scared of me and Yelena, and probably Clint too for asking questions"

"... Clint's still here?"

"Yeah he was making a sandwich downstairs"

"That food thief"

"And now he's explaining Jeff to Yelena"

"I'm kind of regretting giving him that spare key. But anyway, what are we doing about Jeff? He thinks you might eat him!"

"I will explain very kindly that I won't"

You glared unamused, Jeff wasn't going to accept that, but then your eyes trailed to the side, seeing the pack of Jelly babies on the bedside table.

"Jelly babies!" you exclaimed,

"Excuse me?"

"We eat gummy versions of ourselves, convince Jeff you and Yelena ate gummy sharks, they must exist somewhere."

"... yeah, that's a better plan"

—————————————————

"Hey Jeff" Natasha began softly, entering the bathroom with you in tow. The shark trembled, his tail splashing to propel himself into the farthest corner.

You walked ahead, sitting beside Jeff and stroking his fin, "there's been a bit of a misunderstanding buddy," you informed him, nodding at Natasha to continue.

"Well, when you heard me and Yelena talking about eating shark earlier-"

A soft whimper cut her off

"-well we were talking about gummy sharks, like gummy worms, remember them? just shark-shaped, they're very rare"

"Mrrr?" Jeff said hesitantly, looking up at Natasha for the first time, then at you for confirmation.

"Yeah that's right Jeff" you nodded, "but we understand you getting scared"

"Mrrr" Jeff confidently agreed, then, with his playfulness returning, he dipped his head into the water and whipped it up, aiming directly, and accurately, to splash Natasha.

Despite the soaking, she laughed, "yeah I guess that's equal payback for scaring you, sorry Jeff. But do you want to meet Yelena for real this time?"

He nodded, and you hoisted him out of the bath, letting him trot downstairs between the two of you. Natasha has sent Yelena and Clint a text to inform them of the slight lie, but apparently, the man had already left. You really needed to put a tracker on him, it would stop him startling you every time he appeared in the house.

Yelena was waiting patiently in the living room though, leg bouncing as she awaited the land shark she'd made a very poor first impression on.

"Mrrr!" he beamed, running off ahead to meet her properly, and jumping up to put his front feet on her knees.

"You must be Jeff" she guessed, "I am Yelena, Natasha's sister"

"He knows that already Lena. He's a smart shark"

"I know, I know, I just want to make the proper introductions. I always thought you would get a cat, but he is more similar to a dog, I like him."

"He's been very excited for your arrival" you chimed in, "excluding that slight first meeting earlier"

"I am very sorry about that Jeff" Yelena apologised sincerely, "I hear you have been told I was talking about gummy sharks. That is true. Natasha and I ate some... very chewy... chicken flavoured... gummy sharks."

"Mrrr?" Jeff opened his mouth, pointing into it with a finger.

"He's asking if you can get him some to try" you translated, "he wants to know what they're like"

"Well, I mean-"

"You did promise you could source some for Clint earlier, remember?" Natasha glared, daring Yelena to contest.

"Yes, I did. Very rare. But for Jeff, I guess I'll find some of these gummy sharks"

"I think that sounds fair" Natasha smirked, knowing the challenge she's set her sister now, "an equal payback for scaring my son."

[jellybeandrawsthings]

☹️hi i dont usually do this thing where i ask for art/thoughts on things but ive had a super bad day and i was just curious as to what your take on your wounded-on-krypton Kara would be doing with Lena if she hadn't of come out as Supergirl but they still met and fell in love- would Kara just be floating around Lena's apartment during quarantine listening to Lena read books and making her gf tea's and flying out to get her her supplies so Lena would stay safe from getting sick? I really love your art.

aww, I'm sorry u had a bad day, I made a little doodle and tried writing a little story for it as well that should answear your queastion about my scarred!Kara and her relationship with Lena if she didn’t became Supergirl (tho I'm not a writer, so its quality might not be the best)  hopefully it will make u feel even just a little bit better

The first time she met Lena, Kara was going to L-Corp to get a prosthetic replacement from their new Cybernetic Futures program since she kind of destroyed her old one.

Okay, she definitely destroyed her old one, but to be fair, who knew kicking a cement boulder with a prosthetic leg made from human metals but with the force of an angry and very frustrated superpowered being would destroy said metal leg. Really, who could've predicted that?

Walking into the building with warm coffee in hand proved to be more difficult than Kara hoped, her busted prosthetic making her wobble every two steps since she didn't have a spare she could wear - this was the spare - and the slippery tiled floor didn't help. Making her way to the elevator she kept glancing down focusing on her steps, this meant she didn't notice when a woman absorbed in her phone walked straight into her path. On instinct, she relaxed her body as to not harm the human she collided with, unfortunately, that meant she lost her barely-there, to begin with, balance and was sent sprawling onto the floor and her coffee splashing straight at the woman's shirt. Perfect. Just what she needed today.

She had an apology already forming on her lips when she looked up and for the first time noticed the woman, no, the goddess she bumped into. Her hair was black, but when it caught the light it shone deep chestnut brown and cascading down her back, her skin was pale and looked so soft Kara found herself wanting to touch it, her fingers twitching at her sides. The woman's eyes were green, though her right eye seemed to be two shades lighter, more gray than green. She wasn't looking at her currently occupied with taking in the state of her clothes. And Rao, her clothes. The outfit was that of a businesswoman, high heels ready to kill, dark burgundy slacks with a matching suit jacket, loose black tie, and a white shirt. A white shirt that was now covered in Kara's coffee. Oh no. She needed to fix this, like, immediately. The best place to start is with an apology, right?

———————

Lena was having a pretty normal day, all things considered. She should have known her days are never normal. She woke up early, ate a small breakfast, and went to work. There she had meetings with investors from 8 to 11, some paperwork to sign, a small meeting with the head of R&D at 12, and now she finally had enough time to take a break and maybe grab some lunch. With a certain sandwich place in mind, she made her way down to the ground floor and, while answering some last-minute e-mail made her way to the exit of the building.

Before she could even make it halfway to the wide double door, she felt something surprisingly solid and at the same time very wobbly bump into her, and then a sudden warmth and wetness on her chest. Looking down at herself confirmed what she already suspected, someone, spilled coffee on her. Thankfully it was only warm and not scalding hot the last thing she needed right now was dealing with coffee-induced burns. Making sure her shirt was the only thing damaged in the incident, Lena paid no mind to the person who bumped into her, that is until a very apologetic voice started talking to her. From the floor. Looking away from her ruined shirt, she took in the person frantically trying to apologize for spilling coffee on her, at least that's what she thinks the woman was trying to do, seeing as at his point she was rambling a mile a minute.

The woman on the floor looked young, probably around the same age as Lena herself, she had blond wavy hair gathered in a messy ponytail and hidden behind cute square-framed glasses, the bluest eyes she has ever seen. There was a burn scar covering most of the left side of her face and neck and more peeking out from under her shirt. Her left leg ended right below the knee, and the prosthetic she was wearing looked like someone put it under an industrial press and then tried to put it back into shape with a hammer. She was wearing blue sneakers, jean shorts, and a yellow tank top with tiny rainbow dinosaurs on it that gave her an unobscured view of the rippling muscles in her arms as she gesticulated wildly still rambling out something resembling an apology.

Taking it all in Lena came to one conclusion. She's cute. And so with warm coffee drying on her chest and a beautiful woman at her feet, really what else was there for Lena to do other than ask the blonde out on a date.

———————

They moved in together after a year of dating. Alex asked if they were sure, but there wasn't a doubt in their minds that this was what they wanted. It felt right. And they were glad for this decision since a few months later, they and most of the world's population were confined to their homes.

Days in quarantine were spent working from home on their laptops with their legs entwined together and sharing a blanket out of the view of the cameras. When they weren't working they were finding new ways to entertain themselves. Slowly making their way through the classics of fantasy and sci-fi literature, with Kara floating them above the couch and Lena laying on top of her chest reading aloud from her Kindle was how they were spending most of the evenings. During the weekends when there was less work, Lena tried to teach Kara how to bake - with mixed results - and Kara made it her mission to recreate as many childhood experiences Lena missed out on living with the Luthors as possible. Her blanket fort wasn't the most structurally sound, but it sure was cozy. Movie nights were a nightly routine, and cooking dinner together became the most sacred daily ritual neither of them dared or wanted to skip. Weekly game nights through zoom were initiated almost immediately after lockdown and to no one's surprise, Lena and Alex's competitiveness did not lessen with the development of not being in the same room. If anything it became worse. Bets about how long will it take for the two of them to start fighting and accusing each other of cheating were as much a tradition as game nights itself. Most days though were spent working and lounging together with Kara occasionally flying out to pick up supplies they needed. And when one day Kara flew through the balcony with two cats and a dog saying there wasn't enough space in shelters, who was Lena to refuse those cute puppy eyes (it didn't hurt that the dog and cats were adorable as well).

[selfawarejester]

So, someone requested a fic where Blue Team rescues a Child!Reader from a war zone, but unfortunately Tumblr ate the ask. If you’re the one who requested it, please enjoy!

EDIT: found a screenshot! @simp-for-fictional-men-only, hope you like this!

Blue Team x Child!Reader (Halo)

It’s been a long “day”, even by Spartan standards.

Blue Team had been trying to repel Covenant forces on an Outer Colonies planet for over a week… but it hadn’t been enough. Command had called an evacuation, and after destroying a base to help the efforts, Blue Team had been ordered to help with final evacuation calls in the nearest town.

On the Pelican ride to town, there was a brief moment where they thought it was a waste of resources to send Spartans for an evacuation op, especially because the other Spartan teams were still doing the best they could to strike back at the Covenant; not necessarily to stop them anymore, just to hold them back long enough for the civilians to escape and maybe a little revenge. The events of the week, coupled with the guilt of their brothers and sisters still risking their lives, weighed on them heavily.

But at the end of the day, they’re glad they did: they found a group in the Rec center, a dozen people in the boroughs, twenty in an apartment complex — the Marines wouldn’t have been able to lift most of the wreckage that blocked them from escaping.

By the time they’d gotten to the outskirts of town, Blue Team had been left alone to sweep through the dead town. Chief considered just going to meet up with the Marines — surely, they could match the pace of the overloaded Troop Transports — and this area was just dilapidated factories and shady looking establishments that had long since been stampeded.

But a need to fulfil his task to completion stayed his hand… and thank god it did.

At first, it was just soft sniffles that sounded from the inside of the rundown factory. Chief and Kelly, who’d partnered up to search this side of the district, thought it was one of the many Jackals that had been posted in the previous sector wandering, or a Grunt that had been left behind after the Jackals had entertained themselves (in which case, they should probably put the thing out of its misery), so they go inside.

Chief goes first, moving carefully through the debris so as to not dislodge the wreckage, or disturb the corpses of the few soldiers and more civilians. He retrieves their dog tags, securing them in one of the compartments of the MJOLNIR, and Kelly follows, stepping where he does.

Slowly, the sound becomes louder and louder, wheezing and snotty sobbing. Definitely an injured Grunt, he thinks. It’s coming from under a slab of concrete propped up against a wall. Kelly flanks to the right, while Chief goes to the left. He signals that he’ll lift it on the count of three, and grips the edge of the slab. When the slab gets tossed aside, Kelly raises her shotgun, pointing directly at the small figure.

You shriek and bury your head in your knees, pulled up to your chest. You couldn’t believe that after all the gross, awful things you’d had to sit through, holed up in this corner, you were just going to die.

But when nothing happens for a solid five seconds, you chance a peek over your knees and gasp. S-117 and S-087 are emblazoned across the chests of the armored giants… Spartans.

Kelly and Chief exchange confused gazes, having no idea how to deal with children. The last ones they’d had any interaction with was the Castoffs on Netherop, but they were more feral gremlins than they had been children.

(Kelly and Fred still aren’t entirely sure that the whole incident wasn’t a heat-induced hallucination.)

John really doesn’t want to go through another episode like it, but on the other hand, it would be easier if you were pelting rocks at them.

Kelly, being the more personable of the two, kneels to your height (or as close as a Spartan could get) and softly calls. “You don’t have to be scared. We’re here to help.”

You knew that — they were Spartans! The greatest heroes Humanity ever possessed! You were just shocked that you were getting rescued by them.

“Y-you’re Spartans.” You whisper dumbly, but you couldn’t help it! How are you supposed to be cool when you grew up with Master Chief’s action figure on your nightstand. “Like Master Chief.”

You can’t see it, but John can sense Kelly’s smirk as she looks over at him and points. “Well, that’s the man himself.”

* Oh no. By the way your wet, moved eyes stare up at him, it seems you’re a fan.

OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!!! You hope your pterodactyl screeching wasn’t external.

“Whoa.” This couldn’t be real. You’d passed out from exhaustion, and were dreaming all of this. That could be the only possibility!

John knows that this is the part where he says something witty or inspiring… but he really doesn’t know what to say, so he just awkwardly clears his throat. “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head violently, a burning need to not disappoint your childhood hero, and clamber up to your feet… only to wince and lean against the wall, something sticky on your leg.

Now that you’re standing, he can see the dried blood around your ankle. “Hold still!” All the softness is gone from Kelly’s tone as she works on bandaging you up, but you don’t mind, appreciating how careful she’s being.

Co-ordinating with Linda, who informs him that there are patrols scouting the areas — probably only to get any survivors, and not to catch them, but they should still move — and Fred, who tells him that the convoy is flying off-planet via Pelicans in half an hour, John makes some quick calculations.

With the pace you’d set, hobbling alongside Kelly, whimpering every time you put your weight on your left foot, it would take them at least an hour. Too long.

“Whoa…” The sound comes unbidden from Fred when Kelly emerges, with you clutching at her hip, all bloody and dirty. A pang of sympathy strikes as he looks around and realizes all that you must have seen. He was well aware that normal children weren’t nearly as resilient as he and his siblings had been.

“….” He stays silent as you arrive in front of him, staring up at him with slight apprehension, heart racing as he tries to think of something to say — and for some reason, he lands on an awkward, weirdly Southern-sounding. “Hey champ!”

John and Kelly both shoot him weird looks, and he wants to dig a hole and die, when they hear it.

A small giggle falls from your lips, tiny hands covering your mouth as you try not to laugh. Fred sighs in relief, but his anxiety returns when Kelly’s joking voice comes over the comms saying “Well, I guess we know who’s taking care of them.”

Linda drops out of nowhere, and nearly scares you to death as you shriek and bump into John, holding his leg tightly. You don’t really notice how he freezes, confused again.

“…sorry.” She doesn’t sound sorry, you think with a pout and drop from Chief’s leg, careful of your own busted ankle.

“That’s Linda, that’s Fred and I’m Kelly. You can just call him Chief. What’s your name?”

“Y-Y/N.”

“Alright. We won’t be able to make it if you’re walking, so you need to get on one of our backs.” Chief tells you, straight to business. “Which one of us do you feel comfortable with?”

He’s really hoping you pick Kelly or Fred. It wouldn’t exactly be a burden, you’re much tinier than the full grown people he’s had to carry out of a war zone, and you’re handling it much better as well, even though you’re barely ten years old.

“Um…” You look shyly up at Fred. “If you don’t really mind…”

*Aw. That’s… actually kind of sweet. Fred beckons you over, and hoists you up between his shoulders, giving you the rundown on what to do if people start shooting, and to hold on tight when he tells you to.

*You’re much more considerate than the freaked out VIPs he’s had to extract. But he still feels you twitch every time the wind causes something to clatter, so he decides to strike up conversation.

“So how did you wind up there?” It’s not until afterwards that he realizes that, unlike soldiers, civilians aren’t comfortable discussing stuff like that. But you answer that it was your dad’s factory, explaining that it was Bring Your Kid To Work Day.

The Spartans, specifically Kelly, asked you questions about it, having never heard of it themselves. After all, military settings rarely allowed such breaches of protocol.

You only trailed off as you got to the part where he told you to hide, and Fred lets it be.

When you finally get to the convoy, a nurse hurriedly tries to pull you away from the Spartans to help out, apologizing for not doing it sooner when Fred tells her it’s fine and that you can stay. After all, Kelly had fixed you up well, and you seemed terrified at the prospect of being left alone.

All that was left to do was fly up to the ship in outer orbit, with the rest of the survivors. Since there were such few Pelicans, everyone had been crammed into them, military and civilians alike. You’d simply wandered onto the one they’d been on, sandwiched between Chief and Fred.

Chief watches you picking at your shorts, and suddenly remembers the chocolate bar Sgt. Johnson keeps giving him - “you’re not yourself when you’re hungry, Chief” He’d snicker and then leave, Chief just standing there, not understanding the reference - but hey, chocolate was chocolate.

“Here. You did well.” Your eyes go wide, and for a second he thinks you’re going to refuse, but then you snatch it out of his hand and snarf it down. This is how it must feel to watch him eat.

“You’re going to like it up there.” Fred chimes in when your gaze starts getting distant again. “Space is really cool.”

In a twist of fate, you find one of your best friends when you arrive on the ship. Their parents promise to take care of you, and thank the Spartans.

When they start directing the survivors to their quarters, you hug every Spartan, even Linda… or their legs, since you couldn’t reach anything else. (Thankfully, you telegraph it pretty well, so they don’t accidentally smack you or something.)

John just stiffens and then nods, Fred pats you on the head awkwardly and shuffles away (he was very shocked by the affection), Kelly laughs and claps you on the shoulder, and Linda just hums and pets you on the head like a dog, walking away afterwards.

You go on to be a Marine yourself, finding yourself on the Halo campaign, where Chief and Cortana save you once more. You’re surprised he still remembers you.

You leave a bar of the same brand he gave you at his shrine, giving a heartfelt eulogy and catching up momentarily with the other members of Blue Team before you all leave again.

You almost faint when he shows up at Requiem, though. Don’t feel bad, as Lasky fanboys behind Chief for the whole campaign.

Palmer corrals you and Lasky into a break room to make fun of your behavior after it’s all over.

[deborahmessingsfingers]

I’m Tired

pairings: bo burnham x reader

word count: 3283

tags/warnings: explicit language, mental health issues, mental breakdown, angst, hurt/comfort, sad Bo, gender neutral reader

also on ao3

Bo had been off for a while. He’d only been working on the special for a few months when you noticed the first sign. He started to talk a little less, which at first glance, you weren’t too worried about. He often became quite reclusive and introspective when it came to his writing process, channeling all of his energy into planning and drafting.

It’d happened before, when he was in the early stages of producing Eighth Grade. Conversation grew thin and infrequent, all of his time and energy was spent planning, writing and ruminating, though as the process progressed from writing to filming, his sparkle returned and you could see the life and excitement dancing around in his eyes once more.

Since he started Inside, you were lucky if you got to see his eyes at all.

At first, he’d come bouncing back from the guest house each evening, excited to discuss his latest ideas and concepts, eager to receive your feedback and the fresh perspective you gave.

This routine was quick to disappear.

Every day, he’d come back from the guest house a little later and a little more deflated until your interactions were limited to a kiss good morning and a kiss good night.

Eventually he stopped coming to bed all together. You never went into the guest house so as not to disturb his flow, but you assumed he’d taken to sleeping on the fold-out couch. You’d hoped he was sleeping at least, for the sake of his well being.

You missed him. God, you missed him, more than you ever thought possible. Despite the fact that he was a mere few feet away from your front door, you felt more distanced from him now than the times he’d been on the other side of the country, touring, performing, and seeing the world.

He’d always been like that. Limitations in physical proximity could only wedge such a divide between you two, it was always the inner demons and anxieties that caused the rifts.

You attempted to rip the bandaid off after a month of the same, silent routine. You anxiously approached the guest house with the best olive branch you had available; a peanut butter sandwich and a cup of coffee. Your free hand knocked on the door of the guest house tentatively, not wanting to disturb him in the middle of something.

No answer.

You knocked again, still quietly, but with more intention.

No answer.

You shakily grasped the doorknob and twisted, your mind flicking through every dreadful outcome. Opening the door, you see one outcome you didn’t quite anticipate.

The room was dark and humid, the space overwhelmingly cluttered with miscellaneous cords, lights and stands.

And in the middle of all of the chaos, he was just… sitting there.

Hunched over the keyboard in the corner of the room. He just sat and stared at the keys, his white-knuckled fists resting on his thighs. You immediately noticed just how long his hair had grown, long enough to cover his eyes, the rest of his face hidden in it’s shadows. He appeared completely immersed in his own world, clearly missing all your attempts at grabbing his attention.

“Bosey,” you said, your tone just short of a whisper, head cocking to the side to see him a little better from the doorway. Bo inhaled sharply as his head turned to face you, seemingly pulled from his thoughts. His brow was quick to furrow.

“What’re you doing in here?” he asked. His voice was raspy and hoarse, not unlike how it sounded first thing in the morning. It reminded you so much of all the mornings spent waking up next to him, often in his arms, spending hours upon hours talking until noon about anything and everything, at least until you were cast out of your cloud of bliss by your worldly responsibilities. God, how you missed those moments.

“I thought I’d just come check on you. Didn’t think you’d eaten anything in a while so,” you paused, setting the peace offering down with a quiet clink, “thought I’d make myself useful.”

You smiled, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes, and his thanks was expressed simply by mirroring your unconvincing grin. He tutted, running his hands through his hair, as he often did when nervous. You could tell he was exhausted; the bags under his eyes were so dark and he could hardly make conversation with the one person who knew him best.

The air was thick with tension, the awkwardness quickly made you both uncomfortable and your head was reeling with anxieties on how you wound up feeling like this; like an unwelcome stranger in your own guest house.

“You been sleeping okay?” you asked, hand gently gesturing to the fold-out couch behind him as you lent against the doorframe. You felt slight comfort at the sight of tangled bedsheets, though the relief was quickly expunged as you lost count of the wires and equipment covering the mattress.

“Y-Yeah, i’ve been... It’s fine,” he sighed, his large hand wrapping around his jaw to scratch the sides of his beard, “I’m just a little busy right now honey, I-I gotta get back to it.”

His hands slapped his thighs matter-of-factly before he stood up, shuffling towards the back of the room. He began to fiddle with equipment, pointlessly messing around with a tangle of cords he’d picked up from the kitchen bench.

Your eyes instinctively closed shut as you felt a wave of dizziness hit you. His avoidant nature and impatience all but confirmed it; he was not doing well.

You felt incredibly and painfully torn. You knew him better than he knew himself sometimes, but if there was one thing you were both unsure of, it was how to handle situations like these. Pressing any harder would only prove to make him snap, though leaving him to his own devices would only further encourage his bad habits.

You could ruminate on this dilemma for the rest of your life to no avail, but an instinct deep within you pushed you to query just a little more, to try and reach out as gently as you could.

“Have you thought about, um…” you faltered, scrambling to find the right words, “taking a break soon, honey? Even just a little one? I know how important this is to you, but I know in the past you’ve burnt yourself out, and maybe even if you just came inside for a shower, just to reset and maybe just-”

“I said I’m fine.” he interjected harshly. You were caught off guard, now feeling sheepish and bewildered, truly feeling like an intruder. You kicked yourself inwardly for pushing too far, you knew this would happen. You opened your mouth to try and apologise, to take back the supposed infringement, but his voice came through when your own refused.

“I’m about to start filming. Could you…” he asked, hoping you’d get the message and leave without having to ask you explicitly. You were too befuddled to push any further, already regretting the attempts you’d made.

“Of course, sorry honey.” you replied, shaking your head. Your lips pressed together in a tight, forced smile until you left and shut the door behind you. The slam was enough to bring tears to your eyes.

You shook your head to try and clear it, trying with all your might to move on from the incident and figure out a plan moving forward.

He said he was fine.

You knew he wasn’t.

There were a few times you thought it was all going to be okay. Shortly after the guest house dispute, you were surprised by the sound of the back door being opened. He greeted you with a tired smile and you quickly snaked your arms around him, holding on to him for dear life, telling yourself you’d never let go again.

He sat with you in the kitchen, peacefully watching you cook. You could tell he missed your company just by the soft smile on his face, the first one you had seen in a long time, and you beamed at the very sight of him sitting contently with Bruce on his lap. There wasn’t much conversation over dinner, though compared to earlier, the awkwardness was nonexistent. Until dessert.

You wanted to pull out all the stops, utilising every second of this rare quality time to enjoy his company and to show him how much difference a few hours of luxury and relaxation can make.

You left him lounging on the couch to make his favourite dessert - sticky toffee pudding with vanilla ice cream. You were so relieved you could scream at just the simple thought of him zoning out in front of the television with the dogs, truly letting himself just be, for the first time in a long time.

When the pudding was ready however, your cheesy grin quickly dropped as you realised you were presenting dessert to an empty room. The dogs were quick to start barking, running back and forth between yourself and the back door, and you nearly dropped the plates at the sound of that heinous shed door closing once more. You couldn’t believe it. Just when you thought things were starting to look up, he waltzes straight back towards the problem itself.

Not thinking for a second, you set the plates down and marched over to the guest house. You didn’t bother to knock this time, instead assertively opening the door to see him already settled with a keyboard on his lap. His head flew up at the sound of your entrance, mouth flying open with silent questions. You stopped for a moment - both of you did, a little surprised at your bold entry. Coming to your senses, your gait quickly softened, hands clasped loosely in front of you so as not to alarm him.

“I-I made dessert. Your favourite.” you explained meekly, watching him from the doorway once more. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply, filling you with a sense of dread. You knew what would happen if you pushed it, but here you were. You were so desperate at this point, missing the man you fell in love with and frightened of the shell he’d become. Even more so than that, you were frightened for him.

Bo had always had trouble accepting help, and the idea of him asking for it was inconceivable. He’d opened up to you over time about a lot of things, but every time it got a little more serious he’d close up like a clam, refusing entry into his world until the situation simply dissipated.

“I can’t, I’m busy.” he deadpanned, fiddling around with the microphone stand. You could feel the wave of disappointment wash over you once more. For a few hours, you really thought things had taken a turn for the better, for a few hours your hopes had been lifted, all for it to just come crumbling back down tenfold. The adrenaline quickly hijacked your brain, talking on your subconscious’ behalf before you had a moment to strategize.

“You’re always busy.” you snapped. Your voice wasn’t that loud, but you knew he could hear it shake, months of anxiety and concern finally bubbling over. Your fear only grew when you saw a glint of rage flicker behind his eyes.

“It’s my job.” he rebutted with a swift, disapproving shake of his head.

“But you always push yourself too far, Bo. I know you’re just so passionate about what you do, but you always end up so burnt out and I-”

“Stop saying that!” he bellowed, finally placing the keyboard aside and standing up to face you. His height has never intimidated you, but the way in which he towered over you made you feel so small and powerless.

“You keep saying that when I'm not, it’s like you want me to be, like you want me to stop working.” he explained sternly. You felt your words get trapped in your throat, hyper-aware and petrified of digging this hole any deeper.

“I don’t want you to be burnt out, Robert,” you explained, using his full name in hopes it would better emphasize your sincerity, “I just care about you. I’ve seen this happen to you before, when you just go and go and go until you can’t anymore, you stop eating, you stop sleeping and you never talk to anyone about it, you just bottle it all up and let it eat you alive. And I mean, I miss you. God, I miss you so much, but more importantly than that right now, I’m worried about you.” you blurted.

You could feel your body tremble, your veins flooding simultaneously with relief and pure fear after finally airing the grievances you’ve fostered for months.

You watched as he processed your words. You might have just been projecting, but for a moment, you swore you saw his face soften, a part of him wanting so desperately to give in, to surrender and let you help. Lamentably, he huffed out a tired, contemptuous laugh.

After all you said, he simply turned his back to you, picked up his keyboard and continued on like you hadn’t said a peep. For a moment, you stood there, truly gobsmacked, but the piercing screeches of his synthesizer were enough to usher you out the door and back to the house, not stopping until you were in bed and crying into your pillow.

Your mind wouldn’t let up, over-processing every word he spoke, every breath he took, looking for illusory warning signs that this was it. All the years you’d spent together, all the hard work and love and dedication you’d poured into the relationship, all of the sacrifices, all of the rewards, it was all now null and void because you’d pushed him too far.

At some point, your mind had crossed over into the world of paranoia, manipulating every once-pleasant memory of the evening to fit your new narrative, that this was the end.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but the slightly-damp pillow was enough to indicate that it happened pretty fast. Your brain soon caught up with your body, picking up the very noise that woke you up - the shower.

You rose from your bed with a furrowed brow and made your way down the stairs as quietly as you could, as if your presence would scare him off like a fly. You made it face to face with the door of the guest bathroom, the shower was undoubtedly on, and from the excited state of the dogs, Bo was undoubtedly in there. You gently rested your hand against the door, unsure of what to do.

Eventually, you backed up and took refuge on the couch, allowing him space to wash away the day and hopefully clear his mind.

Ten minutes passed, you sat patiently, silently on the couch as you waited for the shower to stop.

Another ten minutes later and you hadn’t moved from your spot, save a few adjustments for Bruce who had curled up under your arm.

It had been half an hour since you sat and your nerves were multiplying by the second. You were using every fibre of your being to hold yourself back from going in there, no longer trusting that gut instinct that, once again, reared it’s ugly head. You could hear it’s faint screams echoing in the back of your head;

‘Push’.

The impulse grew more enticing with every passing second until it had been forty five minutes since you awoke and you could no longer wait.

Pacing up to the door, the hesitation that stopped you from going in last time revealed itself once more. The hesitation was quickly silenced, however, by the sound of muffled sobs.

Your heart was in your throat, your stomach twisting and churning itself into impossible knots in response to the muted lamentations. Your body turned to jelly as you dubiously opened the door, wincing at the creak of it’s hinges. You could feel your heart drop to the floor and shatter at the sight before you.

Bo was curled up in the corner of the bathtub, arms around his knees as his hair completely concealed his face. He was seemingly unbothered by the harsh, hot stream of water hammering against his head, and you could only just make out the shaking of his shoulders through the steam.

Without a moment of hesitation, you stepped out of your shoes, well beyond caring about the clothes you were wearing, and stepped into the bathtub fully clothed to sit behind him. Your legs splayed out on either side of him, and your arms quickly wrapped around to sit atop his own.

You could truly feel him crying now as he leant into your touch, too exhausted to fight any more. You could feel his laboured breathing, you could hear his wordless whispers as he tried and failed to speak. So you spoke for him.

“I’ve got you, Bo.” you said quietly, beginning to rock him back and forth and softly kissing his head. Finally, he managed to squeak out a few words,

“I’m so fucking tired.”

It was punctuated with a sob, and you had to muster every ounce of strength you had not to cry yourself. You’d never seen him like this before. You’d seen him stressed, you’d seen him deflated, you’d seen him tired, overworked and depressed. But never quite this broken.

“I’m so fucking tired. I’m so tired, please” he continued, repeating his mantra over and over again,

‘I’m tired, I’m tired, I’m tired’

You couldn’t imagine how much he must have to say, and neither of you knew quite where to start. But after all these years, he’d finally hit the breaking point.

You continued to slowly rock him back and forth, gently kissing his hair as the both of you sat under the scalding hot stream of the shower.

He tensed up for a moment in your grip, his demons seemingly coming back to remind him he isn’t worthy of help. A vague suggestion of ‘You shouldn’t have to do this’ was muttered under his breath, but this time when you pushed back, he let you. Your hold on him endured, soothingly rubbing small circles on his arm with your thumb until he settled once more.

“I’ve got you.” you reassured him once more, hoping to god that this time you got through. And as you felt his shoulders start to shake once more, you think you just might have.

“Why am I doing this?” Bo asked, voice raised to compete against the strong pelt of the shower. You stayed silent and let him continue.

“What’s the fucking point? I can’t even tell what I'm doing anymore. It’s all I can think about, all I can do is just work on it but I hate everything I come up with, it just makes me so fucking miserable. And sometimes I just wanna stop, for the night, and get into bed with you, and the girls, and just forget about everything for a few hours but I can’t switch my fucking brain off and I’m just stuck in this fucking endless feedback loop in my head and I’m just so tired” he cried, gasping in a loud breath.

“It’s okay, baby,” you cooed, pulling him a little closer to you, “you don’t have to be okay. I’ve got you.”

Bo didn’t know how to say it, he didn’t know where he’d begin, but he was so thankful that you persevered, that you were still there with him, that you were right there holding him through this.

[violettelueur]

— ITADORI YUJI + FUSHIGURO MEGUMI + GOJO SATORU + NANAMI KENTO || HAVING AN ARTISTIC S/O

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + gojo satoru + nanami kento from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : grammar issues

↳ form : headcanons

↳ published : 27 january

↳ pronouns : non specified in headcanon

↳ request : Goodday Violettelueur.😊 May I order classic black coffee? Okay ummm can I request headcanons Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Itadori Yuji and Megumi Fushigiro (spell I his name right?) x S/O that's talent creative like painting, drawing, sewing, kriting, tinkering.

↳ barista’s notes : good day to you too~ i decided to take the painter/sketcher approach to your request, so i hope you don’t mind ʕ´•ᴥ•`ʔ but guys, when i was looking for an imagine for this banner, i cried reading the manga again because if you know, you know...ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ BUT other than that, i hope you enjoy your cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and come again soon ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ

When Itadori finds out that you are creatively talented, this boy will always ask you if you are planning to draw/paint soon because he wants to watch you do whatever you choose to do.

It is known that Itadori is your number one fan and supporter and will cheer for you in the background quietly because he knows that you need to concentrate when you’re doing your thing.

When you are either painting or drawing, Itadori will always sit next to you with his head on your shoulder because he wants to see the process but mostly the final result.

If you are painting, Itadori will ask if he can help mix paints to make different colours for you since he doesn’t want to ruin the piece you are making.

Imagine him shyly using an extra paintbrush and just cutely mixing colours next to you - guys...I can’t, I’m going to start crying.

Even though he is nervous, when you want him to paint on your canvas, he would always ask you what colour to use and where to paint even when you tell him he can do anything he wants and you’ll go on from there.

During this time, he will apologise profusely when he thinks he has ruined the painting - so please tell him that he is doing a good job as he goes along, it gives him confidence.

Since he is your number one fan, he will take a picture of your sketches/paintings and shows them off to everyone like the proud boyfriend he is.

“Look! Look! Y/N drew this yesterday, isn’t it so cool?!”

Fushiguro and Kugisaki will be amazed but will get annoyed at Itadori constantly shouting at them to look at your art - “We already know Y/N is an amazing artist, you don’t need to keep telling us…”

If you gift him a painting or a sketch of him, this boy will cherish it with all his heart and will compliment on how well you got his features - you can’t tell me otherwise at all.

In conclusion, Itadori will be the proudest boyfriend ever and will show you off - not in a possessive way - it’s more out of happiness and cheeriness.

When Fushiguro discovers your artistic talents, he will invite you over to his dorm to hang out together as an excuse to see you draw or continue on what art piece you were doing before.

He knows that you don’t ever come to his room without your art supplies because usually, you both are in his room just silently with each other.

He will stay silent and leave you to continue your work - when you are in your dorm room - but expect him to keep coming back once every 5 minutes to admire your work over your shoulder until you tell him that he could say if he wanted.

His favourite sights to see is when you are on his bed laying on your stomach sketching away on your book or you sitting on a stool with your canvas and easel in the sunlight with the touch of his divine dog calmly laying on the floor beside you.

Sometimes, when you are in his room, you would ask him if he wanted to draw with you, to which, of course, he would deny the offer since he doesn’t want to ruin your sketchbook.

Once you convince him it’s fine, it is known on a daily occurrence that you would draw/paint on one page of your sketchbook and he would do the same on the other - if he can, he would hold your other hand.

When you are feeling bored, Fushiguro will allow you to draw on his arm since he knows it’s a coping mechanism for you - I don’t think he would wash it off anytime soon…

Unlike itadori, it is unknown to you that he takes pictures of you drawing/painting as well as your work - he probably has a whole folder dedicated to you and a picture of you painting is probably his wallpaper.

If you draw him, expect him to blush and ask why and if you tell him ‘it’s because you are pretty’ that blush will just go redder.

I don’t think he will show your talent off, not because he’s not proud but maybe because he wants this knowledge to only himself - like yours and his little secret I guess.

Overall, Fushiguro is someone that will admire your work but also want to somehow relate to you by joining in with your sketching sessions - he has some pride inside of him to have such an artistic partner but wants to keep that to himself.

When Gojo finds out that you can draw and paint, he will always try to find your sketchbook and canvas to see if you have done anything new without his knowledge - because curiously kills that cat right?

If you have drawn something without his knowledge, he will pout and complain to you on why you didn’t tell him about it

“Honey~ why didn’t you tell me you were going to draw this week? I wanted to watch you~”

If you draw/paint him in any way, he will get cocky and confident because, of course, he is an amazing subject to be used. 

Of course, Gojo has to be that one person that takes a picture of something and will ask you if you could draw/paint what is depicted on the phone screen.

He will also allow you to draw on him and expect him to take a few photos while you are doing so because he thinks you look adorable doing so.

He will also ask you if you want him to model for you - because he is confident in his looks - and if you say ‘yes’ make sure to say what you want to draw from him because he thinks you want to draw all of him.

When you are painting, do not expect a peaceful session, because this guy will play with your paints and paint-brushes.

What I mean by this is him dabbing a paintbrush into the paint before brushing it on your face or anywhere that you are showing skin.

His excuse will be because you are a masterpiece and he will continue to swipe white paint on your face and maybe your hair to ‘match with him’.

Gojo will also mix paint to match the colour of his eyes and will use it to paint on you also - he just loves to tease you.

If you paint of him, he will cuddle you to get you both messy with paint since it’s another excuse of his to have a shower together~

In conclusion, Gojo will always mess with you when you are drawing and painting, he wants to be the subject of most of your works but he is grateful that he has a talented significant other like you.

Namami will give you more privacy than his senior - Mr Gojo Satoru - because he has an idea on how much time and concentration it takes to make one masterpiece.

When you are in the middle of something, Nanami will make you some of your favourite beverage and place it next to you with a bowl of fruit or his favourite sandwich.

His favourite site of you when you draw is when you both go on a coffee date together and you sit next to him with your sketchbook in hand - he would have a soft look on his face as he admires you and the book.

When you are painting, it would be you that will brush some paint on him since why not help him have a little fun?

He will groan at you for being a bit annoying but once he hears you laugh, he will forget about the little incident since this moment is something he wants to appreciate with you.

If you do any artwork that is related to him, he would seem nonchalant about it but you know on the inside he is really proud of you.

He would admire the work for a long time even when you have gone to do something else and if you are sly about it, you could see him sitting on your stool with a small smile being displayed on his face.

When the painting has dried or when a drawing has been completed, he would gently trace the drawing and will ask for a copy of it - even though he already has a picture of it on his phone, he just wants more.

“It’s really incredible Y/N, thank you for doing this”

When you have finished your work for the day or if you are tired, he will help you clean up and place your work somewhere for it to be safe or to dry since he is really proud of your work and doesn’t want anything to happen to it.

He doesn’t really have pet names for you - usually, it’s darling, love or something endearing - but he will add a new one for you and he will call you his “little artist”.

Overall, Nanami is very discreet when it comes to you and your art but is really amazed by all your work since he is a person that takes everything to detail - sometimes he is shocked at how well you get every little detail into your work.

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[five-rivers]

Auction

For @skellagirl

.

“Hey, Jazz,” said Danny, leaning into Jazz’s room, one hand on the doorknob, the other braced against the jamb. “Wanna help me mess with Vlad?”

“Do I?” responded Jazz, pushing her chair back. “What’s the plan?”

“Well,” said Danny, “Vlad left one of his creepy spy bugs in the kitchen again, and I was thinking we could have a loud conversation in front of it about how Mom’s going to that charity bachelor auction.”

Jazz frowned. “But she isn’t. She’s married.”

“Yeah, that’s the point. Vlad’s delusional.”

“Ah, I see,” said Jazz. “Yeah, let’s do it. Should we write a script?”

“Maybe just a backstory. I work better with improv.”

“I’ve seen your fights, Danny. You definitely do not.”

“That’s cold.”

.

Maddie was not here, and Vlad was going to commit murder. Just a little bit. The victim was already half dead, after all.

His teeth squeaked as he forced himself to smile at the vapid, crowds of rich single women below him. He could not, unfortunately, back out now without losing quite a bit of face. The only consolation he had was that he had already communicated the need to eliminate the wealthier bidders, so that Maddie’s bet would win, to his ghostly servants. If only he could get away from the crowds and duplicate himself to take care of the others…

But that would be suspicious too, wouldn’t it? He had to let at least a few bids go through. And some of them had to be high, otherwise he’d never hear the end of it from his ever-aggravating business associates.

Curse them and their golf-playing buffoonery. He didn’t even like golf. It took so long.

When his name was called, he went out onto the stage like a man expecting to be hung. Why did anyone think this kind of thing was a good idea? This was humiliating. Ninety percent of the people bidding were after his money one way or another, he was sure.

Not like Maddie.

He sighed and refused to make eye contact with anyone in the crowd as the auctioneer called higher and higher values. Finally, the number stopped climbing, and Vlad lowered his gaze to see who, exactly, he would have to waste a day with.

Well. At least it wasn’t someone who was after his money.

.

“So,” said Harriet Chin, not even bothering to hide the recorder she held in her hands, “Vladimir Masters. Do you have a statement regarding the Whole World Mission scandal?”

“Harriet,” said Vlad, “please, we’re supposed to be on a date.”

“Yes, and I get to decide our activities. And I want an exclusive interview with the elusive Vlad Masters. That’s what I paid for, after all.”

“And here I was, thinking that it was my ravishing, good looks.”

Harriet snorted. “Maybe for someone who didn’t see you and Jack in that ridiculous hot dog eating contest. Although,” she leaned back appraisingly, “you did fill out since then. Actually… I’m sort of surprised at how early the bidding topped out. Was the room filled with bitter exes, or is there some scandal I don’t know about?”

Vlad rolled his eyes. “I confess, I’m as surprised as you.”

“Now, that’s a lie,” said Harriet.

“Excuse me?”

“You still have that tell from college,” said Harriet, smugly.

“Excuse me? I do not have a tell.” If he did, he had to identify and get rid of it as soon as possible.

“You do,” said Harriet, still grinning.

Vlad weighed the pros and cons of simply overshadowing her and making her lose the day. She’d probably claim that he drugged her or something. Curses.

He sighed, heavily. “At least let me take you out to a restaurant instead of,” he flicked his fingers at his surroundings, “just standing here.”

“Oh, I don’t know. A person’s house can tell you a lot about someone. Didn’t your Wisconsin home blow up? What was up with that, anyway?”

“I released a statement regarding that some time ago,” said Vlad.

“Wasn’t it also raided by the government?”

“That was a misunderstanding. And I also released a press statement about that incident. It shouldn’t take you more than, oh, an hour to look it up online.” This wasn’t entirely true. Once it was out of the immediate spotlight, Vlad had spent quite a bit of money to have the whole story scrubbed. “Dinner? I am paying.”

Harriet looked thoughtful. “Alright, but I’m picking where we go.”

“Of course,” said Vlad, graciously.

.

He regretted everything.

“Harriet, I know Amity Park is small relative to, say, Chicago, but, really… There are good restaurants here.”

“Yes,” said Harriet, “but I wanted to eat here.”

Vlad grimaced and tried not to look at the booth where Daniel and his juvenile delinquent friends were sitting and filming him with a handheld camera.

“Of course,” said Harriet, apparently unbothered by the stickiness of the booth bench and the screaming of children in the other part of building, “if you wanted to go back to a more private setting so that we could continue our interview—”

“No, no, this is quite alright. I said I would get you dinner, and here we are, eating…” He glanced at the menu with derision. “Food.”

He could, just barely, call it that. Even if he’d discovered during his short-term ownership of the chain that certain of its condiments could be used as mid-grade explosives. He didn’t know how Daniel could stand it.

(On the other hand, he had to admit he was enjoying this. Just a little. He so rarely got to match wits against a competent adult.)

(Maddie didn’t count—He was trying to woo Maddie, after all. They were practically on the same side.)

Valerie Grey, looking intensely weirded out, brought their order to their table. Harriet, unperturbed by the grease leaking through the paper wrappings, began to sort though the offerings for the cheap chicken burger she had ordered. Vlad, meanwhile, stared down at his sandwich.

Someone had put an ectoplasm antagonist in the dressing. He glared at Daniel. He didn’t know how the boy had done it, but he was going to pay for it. Along with setting him up for this ridiculous ‘date.’

“Aren’t you going to eat?” asked Harriet.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Oh, stop being such a snob. I remember you and Jack living off of instant ramen.”

“That was then, this is now,” said Vlad.

.

“Seems to be going well,” said Tucker, adjusting the lens on his camera, “all things considered.”

“Kind of surprised they’re here of all places, though,” said Sam.

“I think Ms. Chin’s just trying to get a rise out of Vlad, to be honest.” He’d stopped looking at them, though, instead frowning at the kitchens. “I think Valerie put something in his food. Do you think we should do something?”

“Not really,” said Tucker.

“Yeah, I’m going to choose Valerie every day over the old rich white guy who wants to kill your dad,” said Sam. “Even if she has some slightly homicidal tendencies regarding you.”

“Fair enough,” said Danny. “Want to stalk Vlad and his date until they drive home?”

“I don’t have any other plans,” said Sam, easily.

“Same,” said Tucker.

“Cool,” said Danny.

.

“Are you frequently stalked by teenagers?” asked Harriet.

“No,” said Vlad.

“And isn’t that Jack and Maddie’s son?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Oh ho, there’s a story there, isn’t there?”

“A private matter, I assure you.”

“When you’re as wealthy as you are, Vlad, nothing’s a private matter anymore.”

“I fear I must disagree with you on that count. Where are we going, anyway?”

“It’s a surprise,” said Harriet. “Unless you want to give me that interview.”

“Ugh. No.”

It was a miniature golf course. Of course it was. He could never escape from the accursed ‘sport.’ At least the miniature version was marginally more tolerable. Or it would be, if Daniel and his pack of friends weren’t able to follow them in.

… Or maybe they wouldn’t follow them in. The trio veered off suddenly right before the exit. Vlad smirked. Not enough cash for the little badger to get in, hm?

This assumption was disastrously disproven when a ghost fight tore through the Astroturf that covered the third hole.

Harriet was very nearly thrown into the pond, but Vlad managed to catch her at the last moment.

She was blushing.

Butter biscuits.

.

“Well,” said Harriet, “that wasn’t the interview I wanted, but it wasn’t a total waste of time. Same time next week?”

“Fine, fine, whatever you want,” said Vlad. Then what he said caught up to him. “No. One date. One date was all you paid for.”

Harriet pretended not to hear him.