#Red Nose Day USA

[cinnajun]

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: keep it quiet | ktr

summary | after an encounter with your best friend’s brother in the middle of the night, you can’t help but falling in love with him—and, perhaps he can’t help falling in love with you, too.

genre | kim taerae x fem!reader, university!au (but over the summer), best friend’s brother!au, y/n is an international student from the united states (sorry for all non usa people)

warnings | alcohol, i plagiarized business proposal, mentions of sex but not explicit

wc | 3.6k

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TAERAE!!!!! i’ve always felt like he was so best friend’s brother (+ hanbin is brother’s best friend in case u were wondering) so here’s my best friend’s brother taerae manifesto (@taerrrrrae asked to be tagged)

ft. kep1 members (dayeon is taerae’s sister), billlie members, lsfm members

i. silencieux

The moment you wake up, your head is spinning and you know you’re not drunk enough to throw up, but you sure feel like you’re going to. Kazuha is asleep with her head on your stomach, and you don’t remember when she ended up there (when you fell asleep, you know she was still playing Monopoly in the living room). To your right, Dayeon is asleep face down on the floor, snoring loudly, and to your left, Sheon and Tsuki had made it up to Dayeon’s bed.

The room is dark, which is disorienting, given you fell asleep when the fluorescent overhead light was still on. As best as you could, you removed Kazuha’s head from your stomach, trying to push yourself up off the floor. A glance at Dayeon’s Hello Kitty-themed, digital clock tells you that it’s 4:34 in the morning, which means you slept for around five-and-a-half hours.

During that time, you’d slept off a lot of the alcohol, but you were still feeling slightly buzzed—the buzz wasn’t enough to keep the hangover away, though. You must’ve drank your weight in vodka, which was not good for you, but Kazuha had insisted on you showing them what an American college kid party was like. And, since you’d been to a single frat party during your senior year of high school, you’d been able to pull it off to an extent (you ordered red solo cups and called it a day).

Deciding you needed to drink some water, you stumbled over Dayeon and emerged out into the hallway, nearly knocking into the wall as you did so. The house was empty as far as you were aware—her parents had gone on vacation, which was why you’d been able to drink all day in the first place. According to Dayeon, though, her older brother was supposedly getting home that night.

You assumed he would probably be asleep by now, so you continued on your conquest to the kitchen, practically falling down the stairs because you didn’t turn the light on. But, once you made it to the bottom, there was nothing in between you and getting your water.

Except for a boy sitting at the island in the kitchen, a mug in one hand and a phone in the other. He’d dimmed the lights in the room, which you didn’t know could happen, and he was blissfully unaware of your presence. At that moment, you registered the quiet sound of bossa nova playing as well, which meant he probably hadn’t heard you stumbling down the stairs.

You froze the moment you saw him, immediately weighing your options—you could either go back upstairs and search for water in Dayeon’s room (or just drink from the tap, which you didn’t want to do but would sacrifice if need be) or you sucked up the anxiety and got a huge cup of ice water.

You didn’t have time to decide, because he turned his head towards you, seemingly confused as to why you’d stopped. “Oh, I thought you were Dayeon,” he said, and you practically swooned.

You didn’t know Dayeon’s brother was point-blank beautiful. His voice was deep too, and you briefly wondered if he’d somehow stepped straight out from a k-drama. He was dressed like he was in a k-drama, too, wearing a black t-shirt and baggy, red sweatpants with a pair of wire-rimmed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

“Um, sorry,” you replied, feeling a bit stupid. Your voice sounded foreign in your ears, and you were praying to the gods above that you didn’t sound drunk still. Taerae shook his head, offering you a reassuring smile. You nearly passed out as a dimple bloomed on his cheek, and you began to wonder how Dayeon had never told you that her brother was perfect.

“No, go ahead and do whatever you need to do. I don’t think you were expecting me to be here.”

You nodded haphazardly, taking a few steps toward the cabinets. Taerae went back to scrolling on his phone, where you quickly realized he was reading a book. You picked up the pace, rushing past him and towards the cups that were on the counter. Grabbing one, you quickly filled it with ice and water, suddenly forgetting who was sitting behind you.

Hurriedly, you chugged the glass, practically rejoicing as the ice-cold water flowed down your throat. With a content sigh, you let one of the ice cubes fall into your mouth, and you began crunching on it.

“Are you the one that’s going to be staying with us this summer?”

You choked on the ice, panic flowing through your entire body. You practically swallowed the rest of the cube whole, spinning on the ball of your foot to face him. In your drunkenness, you’d forgotten that you were going to be living at this guy’s house for the rest of your summer and hadn’t even tried to make a good impression.

“Oh, yeah, right. That would be me, yes. I’m [First].”

“Taerae,” he replied. “If you ever need anything, let me know. I have a car.”

It took everything in you to keep your jaw from dropping. The more you learned about this guy, the more insane you felt—whenever Dayeon talked about him, she spoke like he was the biggest loser on the planet. But, right now, he seemed like the farthest thing from a loser.

“Well,” you said, clearing your throat. “I’m going to go back to sleep.”

He smiled at you again, nodding. “Sleep well. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. If you’re up before me, the hangover medicine is in the mirror cabinet.”

You felt the warmth rush to your cheeks when he said that, and you rushed to put your glass in the sink and disappear from the room. “Thank you,” you mumbled, speed-walking around the island. Then, as if he was a psychic, he put his hand on the edge right as you walked into it, protecting you from the stabbing pain of a rock-hard corner. With much more fervor than the last time, you choked out another “Thank you!” before practically running up the stairs and back into the sweet escape of Dayeon’s bedroom.

ii. silencio

A couple of days into your stay at Dayeon’s house, you and Taerae found out that you both went to bed late and woke up early. As a result, your most active times were around the same time; so, the both of you often found yourselves sitting with one another.

Every night, it would be the same set-up: Taerae reading a book and drinking tea, which you found out was chamomile, while you sat across from him, working on the homework for your summer class. Then, at around 3 in the morning, you would pack up for the night. You’d then wake up before him and much before Dayeon, make your breakfast, and while you were eating, he would emerge in the morning.

You also quickly learned that Taerae had, quite literally, no flaws. Once, he sat next to you at the dining table, and he smelled like fresh laundry. On top of that, his breakfast of choice had been a piece of toast with raspberry jam which, for some reason, made you even more enamored with him.

During the day, Taerae didn’t go out much. If he did, he was going to see friends, and Dayeon seemed to be in love with one of his friends (his name was Gyuvin, and he was younger than her, which she didn’t like). She often told him to bring his friends over, but Taerae would just laugh at her and leave with car keys dangling from his hand.

He also restated his offer to take you anywhere you needed to go several times, though it was often directed to both you and Dayeon. You found that very sweet, especially for an older brother—a lot of things about his relationship with Dayeon were picturesque. If you’d had a sibling relationship like theirs, you figured you’d be a very different person.

All in all, he was very kind, which was fatal to anybody with a conscience (especially paired with his face). If the word “beautiful” was a person, you were half convinced that Taerae would be him.

You’d be, quite frankly, utterly stupid if you didn’t try and grow closer to him. So, that’s exactly what you did—at night, when Dayeon was fast asleep and you two were the only ones left alive in the house, you would emerge from the guest bedroom and sit with him. You never spoke unless he spoke first, and generally left him to his own devices, hoping somehow that just sitting in the same room as him would make him fall madly in love with you.

Soon enough, the two of you fell into a routine. You’d sit at the kitchen counter on one of their high stools, either studying or playing random games on your computer while you listened to a podcast. Taerae would read and drink tea, listening to various types of music (from jazz to trot, which you found entertaining).

Then, you made a bold move—instead of sitting at the kitchen counter, you sat yourself down at the table, in the opposite corner. Taerae looked at you for a brief moment but didn’t say anything, which made you feel decently impressed with yourself. In your delusion, you were convinced your plan was “working,” even though you had no proof that he viewed you as anything but Dayeon’s friend. 

And then, it happened. One night, Taerae was out with his friends later than usual, and you’d felt a little discouraged in pulling your little scheme to hang out with him. But, you figured that, if you didn’t go sit down there at least for the hours you usually did, you’d look suspicious (and fall behind on your schoolwork). So, you set up shop, spreading out your books and papers across the table while you compiled them into your notes.

When he got home, it was around 1 in the morning, and you could tell he was drunk from the way his cheeks were flushed (and the fact that he didn’t hang his car keys—in fact, his keys were nowhere to be found). He nodded at you as he walked to his room, shuffling his feet and yawning. You nodded back, suppressing the smile you felt itching at your lips. A moment later, he came out, wearing the same red sweatpants and black sweatshirt that he loved so much.

You then realized that you’d never been able to watch him make his tea, so you found yourself staring at him the entire time he did—from getting out the tea bags from the cabinet to him adding a plethora of little ingredients, like honey and a single drop of cream.

Then, he turned, and you immediately averted your eyes, staring at your computer screen. Taerae sat next to you instead of sitting on the opposite side, still leaving a chair in between you two. You felt yourself tense up but tried to give the illusion of being as relaxed as possible in hopes of keeping your silly crush a secret.

This time around, Taerae didn’t read a book and sat drinking his tea. He put his music on as usual, settling on the same samba jazz he’d been listening to the night you first met. He leaned back into his chair, and you continued to fight the urge to stare at him from the corner of your eye.

“You want to know something?” he asked, a little slur to his words. You looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Depends on what ‘something’ is.”

“We barely talk,” he began, laughing at himself. “But I think about you all the time. When we’re not sitting here together, I almost feel miserable. You live in my house and I still feel like we don’t spend enough time together.”

“Woah,” you said, eyes wide. “Are you sure you want to be saying this when you’re drunk?”

“When else would I say it?” he snorted, brushing his hair out of his face. He took another sip of his tea. “I’ll probably regret it in the morning, but at least it’s off my chest. Don’t tell me how you feel. Just go back to your work.”

You cleared your throat, buffering for a moment. Then, you did as he asked, and went back to furiously typing away at your study guide. About fifteen minutes later, Taerae got up and put his mug in the sink, disappearing deeper into the house—but he left the music playing.

iii. silentium

You didn’t see Taerae until the next night. He didn’t come down in the morning, and you noticed his shoes were gone from the rack next to the door. When you asked Dayeon when she emerged from her bedroom at nearly 1 pm, she said she’d gone to get his car and ended up deciding to spend the day with his friend Matthew.

You found it hard to keep a straight face in front of Dayeon for the rest of the day, wanting nothing more than to spill out all of your feelings to her, as she was your best friend. You also knew that she would likely be less than pleased that your stupid plan to get her brother to fall in love with you worked, so you kept your mouth shut.

It was also out of respect for Taerae, too, as he was probably dying of embarrassment while he was out with his friend. And, as you expected, he arrived back to the house well after Dayeon had passed out, eyebags prominent under his eyes.

You were sitting at the dining table playing Tetris, listening to a random podcast that talked about random items and events that piqued the hosts’ interest. He didn’t go into his room or make his tea this time, just sitting down next to you (with one seat in between, of course).

You took your AirPods out and paused your game, leaning back into your chair. “Sorry,” he said, drumming his fingers on the table. “If I made things weird, that’s not cool for you, ‘cause you don’t have anywhere else to go. I’ll probably be out and about more when my parents come back.”

You stayed quiet, devising a plan in your head. Part of you was exasperated that your stupid sit-in-the-same-room tactic worked, and the other part of you was screaming in your head, banging on the walls, and giggling maniacally.

You slid into the chair that separated you two, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. Then, before he could turn to look at you, you planted a quick kiss on his cheek. You felt like a middle schooler doing that, but it was the only thing you could come up with before Taerae gave up and left you alone.

He turned to face you, eyes wide and cheeks red, like they’d been last night. For a moment, you stared at each other, not saying a word. Then, you got an idea that made your head spin at just the thought of it—it was cliche and straight out of a movie scene, but you couldn’t help but want to actualize it.

Taerae seemed to have the same idea, as he leaned over and kissed you with a sort of fervor that you weren’t expecting. You couldn’t help but return the kiss, putting your hands on the sides of his face and pulling him closer to you. He pulled away for a second, tugging his glasses off his face and practically throwing them on the table.

Taerae’s lips were soft against your own, plump and perfect to kiss. You were close enough now that you could smell his cologne, which was light and airy, and you felt like a thousand flowers were blooming in your chest. Taerae ran a hand through your hair, which nearly made you swoon (if you weren’t already swooning.

You must’ve made out for a good ten minutes (at least that’s what it felt like), hugging him close to you like if you were to let go he would disappear in a second. The only thing that managed to draw you apart was the loud sound of Dayeon’s bedroom door opening, which caused you to practically shove him away from you. You nearly fell out of your chair as you rushed to get back to your original seat, patting your hair down and shoving your AirPods into your ear.

Taerae grabbed his glasses, pushing them on carelessly while he stood from his chair and nearly ran to where he kept his tea mugs. He began making his nightly tea, although you could see his hands shaking as he filled his electric kettle with water.

Dayeon skipped down the stairs and over to you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and leaning down to hover her head above your shoulder. Then, she plucked out your earbud, putting her phone in front of your computer screen.

You prayed to every god that she couldn’t smell Taerae’s cologne on you, trying to focus on her screen. It was a wall of texts, the contact being easily identifiable as Taerae’s friend, Gyuvin. You scanned every word, bringing your hand up to scroll through them.

“He asked you out?” you blurted out, not thinking about the implications of saying that right behind her older brother. It was a panic reaction, a last-ditch attempt to get her away from you so she wouldn’t find out that you’d made out with her brother in her living room. Taerae spun around, and Dayeon detached herself from you immediately, staring at you with betrayal in her eyes. Taerae looked at her with betrayal in his eyes, too, and you suddenly realized that he knew that she had a thing for his friend.

“I knew Matthew wasn’t telling me something,” Taerae scoffed, causing Dayeon to shrink into herself. “How dare you date one of my friends? In what world is that legal?”

“Do you want a free pass to date one of mine?” Dayeon argued back, which caused you to look away with guilt filling your veins. “I’ve had a crush on him for years, I deserve this!”

You hoped that she never found out about you and Taerae.

iv. quiet

It was the night before Dayeon’s parents got home, two weeks before your dorms opened back up, and Dayeon had gone out with Gyuvin, one of his friends, and a couple of your friends. You’d been invited, but you lied and said you weren’t feeling well, thinking of the opportunity to spend the entire night, alone, with your now boyfriend.

Then, he went and ruined it. You stared at your neck in the mirror in absolute horror, looking at the red mark that was blooming on your skin. Taerae sat on the counter, watching you search through your plethora of makeup bags for the green concealer you’d bought back home.

“I can’t believe you did this to me,” you said, finally finding it in your bag of eyeliners. You immediately began dabbing it onto your neck, picking up your beauty blender and trying your best to blend it out.

“This is not my fault,” he shot back, frowning. “I barely even sucked that hard. This is on you. If you didn’t bruise so easily, we wouldn’t be here.”

You shivered, picking up your normal concealer and beginning to spread that out on the green blob you’d created. “Never phrase it like that again. And, for the record, you bit me. I felt it.”

He huffed, hopping off the counter and walking behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist. You blended out the normal concealer as well, letting out a sigh as it (mostly) disappeared. “The night before your parents come home and you do this to me. How cruel is that?”

“Maybe it’s a good thing. Then we won’t have to sneak around for two weeks, right?”

“I would rather die than have your parents assume that I’m having sex with their son, but okay,” you replied, sighing. You stared at him in the mirror, now, putting your hands on his arms. He stared back at you, putting his head on your shoulder. “Either way, I don’t like hickeys. My friends used to show up to school with them all the time, and sometimes they’d end the day with one they didn’t have at the beginning. It always grossed me out.”

“Then it’ll never happen again,” he replied, squeezing your middle. “Promise.”

Taerae kissed your shoulder, humming. “Dayeon’s getting home soon. We should go to bed.”

“Is she coming home?”

“Gyuvin texted me that he and Kazuha are bringing her back. He said she doesn’t feel well, and that she thinks you got her sick.”

“Awkward,” you giggled, nearly frowning when he let go of you. You turned to face him, and he put his hands on the counter, trapping you in between him and the ledge.

“Good night, my love,” he said, pecking you on the lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Be ready for our two weeks of hell.”

“I wouldn’t dream of anything else.”

thank you for reading !

#cinna.zb1 #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 scenarios #zb1 one shots #zb1 fluff #zb1 imagines #taerae x reader #kim taerae x reader #taerae fluff #taerae scenarios #taerae imagines

[the-californicationist]

The Fourth of July

Another gift fic for another awesome friend of mine! Stockings are getting stuffed left and right this year. <3 <3

Alex/FReader - foreign reader, blowjob/Facefuck, spit kink, soft!Alex

You are celebrating your first July 4th with Alex and his friends at your brother's lake house. Seeing the booming fireworks, eating hotdogs, and drinking out of those red solo cups - just like the movies - has been so much fun. But, you and Alex get a little carried away in the pool house.

MDNI/18+

AO3 Link

When he picked you up for the party, Alex looked like he was Mr. USA. His fluorescent blue swim trunks were short, the hem sitting high on his huge, muscular thighs, showing off his carbon fiber leg. The arms of his old Army tee shirt were sliced open, giving you a view of his endless, tanned skin. His ribs and abs rippled beneath the surface as he parked the Silverado in the road and hopped out of it to greet you. 

You’d never wanted to run your hands through a shock of hair so badly in your life, buried under a bright red trucker cap with the bill turned backwards. He was smacking his gum loudly, and he was already sunburnt across his nose. 

“Hey, there. You ready for some freedom?”

You smiled, enjoying his American accent,

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I think.”

“C’mon. Your brother’s waitin’ for us at the house. Got about fifty pounds of barbeque workin’ on the pit, I’ll bet.”

He grabbed your bag and threw it into the back of his truck before grabbing your arm and helping you into the lifted cab of the vehicle. Your swimsuit coverup billowed in the wind, and he gently gathered it up for you, moving it away so it wouldn’t get caught in the heavy door. 

Alex pulled himself into the driver’s seat, flexing his tattooed forearms as he settled into position, gripping the wheel tightly. As you looked closer, you started to notice little scars, nothing major. But, you were always quick to forget what his day job was: CIA war machine. He threw on a pair of hot-pink sunglasses with a floater neck strap attached, and handed you his spare pair. You slipped them on, feeling much cooler than you thought you should. As you pulled onto the road, he cranked up the music until you couldn’t even hear yourself think. 

You took the opportunity of being bathed in sound to study him from across the center console of the truck. The landscape of America - strip centers and wooded fields - rushed by you unadmired, and you were trapped by him. You thought you’d gotten away with a long, delicious appraisal, but he flipped his glasses down his nose and peeked over them at you. The look in his eye made you blush. 

He turned the music down and stared at you while the huge truck idled at a red light. His voice was nice and even as he asked,

“What are you lookin’ at, darlin’?”

“Nothing,” you tried to be dismissive, playing coy but doing it badly. 

An enormous, rough hand grabbed you around your knee,

“Nothin’? Like what you were wearin’ in that snap you sent me last week, nothin’?”

You blushed pink. The light turned green. Alex stayed staring at you, squeezing your leg, until someone behind him honked, and even then he took his sweet time. 

“Mmhm,” you said, waiting for his next move as he drove onward, revving the truck’s angry engine.

“Did you tell him yet?” Alex asked, threading his fingers through yours as you captured it from your lap..

“No,” you laughed under your breath, “I think you’d have known by now if I had.”

He laughed with you, readjusting his cap,

“I think I’d have a black eye by now.”

You grimaced in reply, knowing your brother’s temper. He wouldn’t be thrilled to see you flirting with his best friend from when he was enlisted. Alex saw you frown, and he held your hand a little tighter, saying,

“Worth it.” 

You drew in a tight breath and looked over at him. His gaze stayed on the road this time, pushing the speed limit, taking the exit to the lake. 

You’d known Alex Keller ever since your brother moved to Clearwater. Your brother, Charlie, had studied at university and he had fallen in love with a man who was in Alex’s old regiment. They’d gotten married, and now, Charlie had his green card and everything. All of Alex’s friends and army buddies had brought Charlie into the fold. He was even driving a Ford F-150 these days. If it wasn’t for his Kiwi accent, he could’ve passed as a true American. 

You tried to come over to see Charlie and his husband, Greg, every summer. But, with the restrictions in place, it had been a few years. This would be a happy reunion as long as he didn’t discover the relationship blooming between you and his best friend, Alex. 

It had been an accident, really. Charlie had lost his phone, and Alex had called you by accident, trying to find it. Then, you had just…kept calling. They were late night talks for you, and early morning talks for him, but you and Alex just seemed to have so much to say to each other. When he flew out to Urzikstan for dangerous missions, or over to Russia to do God knows what, he would always send you back some little trinkets from his trip. 

You knew it was a lie. You knew, in your heart, that he had been over there killing people and saving the world from whatever horrors were terrorizing those deep, dark places. But, when you got a little glass camel figurine in the mail, its box covered in a million stamps, you put it on your window sill and watched the light dance through it like it hadn’t been shipped from some sort of master of war. But, if you were truly honest with yourself, you didn't give a shit. 

You’d been talking for about six months now, and the build up to your trip was intense. The anticipation was killing you both. Seeing him now, feeling the bones of his hand in yours as you massaged the tiny muscles inside of his palm, it was all too much. You needed Charlie to understand that you had fallen madly in love with his best friend.

“I think we should tell him,” Alex said, interrupting your thoughts.

“Shit,” you scoffed, “He’s gonna lose it.”

“I don’t want to keep hiding you away. And maybe…” you heard the familiar tones of doubt in his throat, “Maybe I’m not the kind of man your brother wants for you. But, I can be.”

You kissed the back of his hand, letting the tiny hairs tickle your skin. The lake house wasn’t far, but you wanted to reassure him more than just chaste affection. 

“I’m eager to see the kind of man you can be,” you turned the seduction up to eleven, hoping he wouldn’t immediately laugh at you. 

He didn’t laugh. If anything, other than a flash of panic in his eyes, he didn’t move. He allowed you to flip his hand over, its wide palm facing the sky as you planted kiss after kiss onto his skin. You felt his breathing quicken, rippling through his limbs. Finally, you took his forefinger into your mouth and began to gently suck on its tip. It was salty, and probably unclean, but you didn’t care. You kept going, moving your mouth up and down his thick digit as if it were his cock. And goddamn did you want it to be his cock.

The phone calls had turned flirtatious, and then downright lascivious, in the last few months. Once, while he was hiding in a bunker somewhere in Ukraine, he’d called you, desperate. You listened to him as he pulled hungrily on his cock, letting you listen to the wet slipping sounds of his fist pounding into his skin, searching for release. He’d begged for your mouth. He said it was all he could think about, and the gorgeous little whimpering noises he made had set it in your mind. You dreamed about blowing him for weeks. You thought about how his come would taste when you had been sitting in the terminal and waiting on your plane. You were going to suck the life out of Alex Keller at this fucking party tonight if it was the last thing you ever did. 

“Oh,” his voice was shaking and quiet, “Fuuuuuck.”

One more strong suck on his finger and you let him loose, wiping away the wetness with your hand, lacing your fingers back through his as if nothing had happened. 

His breathing was ragged, and his hand was trembling. The lake house was just up ahead, and as Alex pulled into the drive, he took his hand back from your grip to adjust his growing cock. It looked heavy, and you couldn’t stop staring. 

“Holy shit,” he sighed, “Charles is gonna kill me.”

“I won’t let him,” you smiled. 

“That mouth…” he was still turned on, and his voice was deepened by his arousal.

“Wait til you see what else it can do,” you grinned and popped open your door to greet Charlie. 

Your brother was in a black apron and carrying a set of tongs. He was at least six and a half feet tall and built like an ox. The back of his neck was red from the sun, and he wore his hair up in a poorly coiffed bun. You shut the truck door and he turned around. When he saw you, his face lit up, and he shouted your name across the yard. 

“Kia ora, sister. Look at you! How’s the Air B&B?”

Charlie held you close to his body, hugging you so tight that it hurt. You let it hurt. 

“Fine. I’m starving.”

“It’s coming. Where’s Alex?”

“Grabbing the bags, I think.”

You turned back around and watched as Alex bent into the truck bed and pulled your bag out along with his. He’d let his sunglasses fall around his neck and walked over to you and Charlie. 

“Charles,” Alex smiled, dropping a bag to shake your brother’s hand. 

“Alex, thanks for picking her up. Greg and the boys are down at the dock.”

You spent the day jet skiing and swimming with Alex and all of your brother’s friends. The girlfriends and wives and husbands all introduced themselves, or reintroduced themselves if they had met you before, and Alex stuck by your side through it all. He could have easily abandoned you to go on the fishing trip that most of the other men were keen to take, or he could have hung around Charlie all day since it had been months since they’d seen each other, too. But, he didn’t. He seemed to know that you didn’t want to be alone, and he held you to him in as much as he dared. 

It would be a lie, though, if you two didn’t admit to sharing a stray touch or even a kiss every now and then. You kept finding excuses to be alone together.

Finally, it was nearly fireworks time, and Greg was setting up the array of them. The purple dusk was just settling on the horizon, and you and Alex had front-row seats. He had brought you another icy beer from the cooler, and a towel from inside the house to sit on. You’d positioned yourselves right next to the small pool house, a little away from the crowd. 

The pool house was little more than a small bedroom and a toilet, but it was big enough to block anyone from seeing you two from behind. That way, if someone was looking at you, you’d know it. The excitement of hiding your affection from everyone was exhilarating. 

You had worn your bright pink triangle bikini, and Alex had spent most of the day staring at it. You’d even made him retie the bows a few times, just to torture him. Once, he’d even managed to swipe a finger over your nipple, so you knew that once everyone’s eyes were focused on the exploding sky, it was on. 

Other houses on the lake were popping their own fireworks, and there was a man who was famous for his end-of-the-night show. As Charlie lit more and more of the small ones, you noticed the other houses following suit. It was pretty, and every time a mortar cracked in the sky, you could feel it in your chest. 

Once it became dark enough, you started to rub your hand up and down Alex’s bare thigh. He scooted closer and closer to you like a dog begging for more pets. You obliged him, running your fingers higher and higher until you were disturbing the hem of his shorts. Then, you went for it.

He felt you move your hand to the warm flesh between his legs, and he whispered,

"No, no, wait...oh, fuck..."

You put your hand through the stretchy leg of the nylon trunks and searched for his heavy cock and balls. You ignored his dick at first, rubbing his balls gently, moving them around in your hand, massaging them and feeling his dick fighting for attention above your wrist. 

“Holy fucking shit, woman,” he hissed, fidgeting in his seat, his eyes turned skyward as he gasped as quietly as he could. 

“You enjoying the show?” You asked, acting very casual. 

“Enjoying…Jesus Christ,” Alex furrowed his brow at you and wiped a hand down his face. His eyes shone blue and then green and then red as the colors burst above you.  

Finally, you wrapped your fingers around his swollen rod, nearly three times as large as it had been soft, and started to pump up and down slowly and deliberately. He let out a trembling breath. 

“Baby, baby, baby, please…ah, please.”

“What do you need, Alex?” You whispered, kissing his neck, “Tell me. I wanna hear it.”

“I need your mouth, baby. Please, I’ll do anything,” he kissed you back, his mustache and beard tickling your skin, sending chills down your arms.

You looked over your shoulder at the pool house, and he followed your gaze. Then, you looked back down at the dock and saw Charlie and Greg untangling a huge fireworks display. You had time.

“C’mon,” you stood up quietly and opened up the door to the pool house. 

The two of you snuck in and shut it behind you, still able to see through the small skylight as the fireworks were going off outside. You didn’t wait for him to get settled. In fact, you grabbed Alex by the arm and pulled him into the small room, sinking to your knees on the well-worn rug. You looped your fingers in the waistband of his shorts, and pulled them down. His cock flagged free, bobbing up and down, and he was as hard as a stone. 

“Holy fuck! Wait, wait…oh, fuck!” He tried to catch his balance, and set his hands on your shoulders. 

You stared at his hard length, admiring the velvety smoothness of his skin, looking at his bare, pink head. You could see the scar from his circumcision, and you ran your tongue along the dark line of skin, licking him up and onto his plump, uncovered head. The sound he made from your first contact would be burned into your brain forever. It was a low, dark growl mixed with a sigh that seemed like he had just been relieved from carrying the whole world on his shoulders. Maybe he had. 

You took him into your mouth achingly slowly, looking up at him the entire time you did so, watching his face contort into different stages of blissful agony. He had one hand in his hair, pulling on it at the roots, his hat knocked back, looking like he was in shock. You swallowed him deeper, opening and closing your throat with swallow after swallow, making more and more drool pool in your mouth as you did until it was running out of your lips and down onto your chest. 

Then, you began to bob your head back and forth along as much of his length as you could take, choking yourself with it until it hurt just a little. You tried to relax. You wanted to show him that you could take it all, that you could be his relief. 

You focused on his head, running your tongue over its crest, tasting his salty precome as you lapped over his hole, rubbing the slick back and bumpy front of your tongue across it over and over and over. You used your hand to pump him up and down as you did, shaking him vigorously while he was sucked into your mouth.

Then, just as you were finding a steady, beating rhythm, he took your head in his hands and pulled you off of him. He was panting and ferocious when he whispered to you,

“Oh, my fucking God, baby. You don’t have to —”

“I want to,” you insisted, wrapping your hands behind your thighs and pulling his cock into your lips again. You kissed his head like it was his mouth, making out with his cock, covering him in your spit. 

You felt him take one of the strings of your bikini in his hands and tug. Your top fluttered down, exposing your breasts to the dark room. You moaned.

When you did, he stumbled forward, losing his balance,

“Shit. Baby, I can't...” he begged, catching himself on the side of the end table, his knuckles white and straining to hold up his weight. 

“I’ll let you sit,” you said cheekily, “If you hold my hair for me.”

“Oh, God,” he sank to the bed and laced his fingers through your hair, grabbing the back of your skull. 

You sucked him harder, moaning as you did so, playing with your nipples and feeling your drool run down your chin. 

Alex’s hand was only loosely connected, and you wanted more from him. You pulled away again and looked up at him with the biggest doe eyes you could muster,

“Alex,” you had his attention like a bright fire, “Fuck my face. Please.” 

A snarl came out of his mouth, and he had to put himself back together before he answered you. He used his big hands to pet your hair out of your face, running a thumb across your wet bottom lip with tender care,

“I don’t wanna hurt you, baby. This feels so good. I don’t need you to -”

“I need you to. I wanna feel you in my throat.”

“Are you trying to kill me?”

“Only a little,” you smiled and licked the tip of him again, teasing him.

“If I hurt you, pinch me. Hard.”

You nodded, taking him as deep as you could. Then, when you reached your limit, you felt his hands get tight, shoving you down past your mouth and into your throat. He was still so gentle with you as he moved himself inside of you, fucking you ever so slowly, waiting for your pinch. So, you started to moan and lick and pull him closer with your hands, pushing yourself to the point of gagging. 

He yanked you off of him in a hurry, thinking you were injured. A long, frothy line of drool came out with him, and you spit the rest onto his shaft and returned him to your mouth. Now that you knew that you could go that deep with help, you tried to do it without, and you nearly succeeded. 

Alex was a complete mess above you, and his moans had become high, whining whimpers. With every swallow, with every lick, you earned a new noise. A gasp, a curse, a shaking cry. You played him like an instrument. Loudly.

Finally, you took him all the way in, past even where he had dared to push you, and you buried your nose in his crotch, smelling his hair and sweat and skin. 

“Oh, fucking shit! Fuck that’s deep. Oh, God. Oh, God! Baby!”

He was unraveled like a ball of string, spilling out everywhere. His body betrayed his politeness, and he thrust himself into you once, twice. You watched as the rockets and cannons and mortars all exploded around you in a fiery, rainbow crescendo, he came down your throat, crying for you, whimpering your name, gasping through gritted teeth. 

You counted to ten, trying not to gag, feeling his cock pulsing in your mouth, beating like a heart. Then, you started to get light-headed. So, you pulled back, releasing him in a slobbery, wet mess of come and spit. 

You leaned forward into his lap and began to lick him clean. He shuddered as you did so, shaking and moaning as your tongue touched all of his sensitive places. You saved his head for last. Licking up and down his shaft, cleaning his come from him, tasting his body’s sweet, sticky release. Until finally, you looked up at him with a sly smile. 

He looked down at you in dumb shock as you sucked all the fluid away from his swollen head, and he gasped as you finished the job. You released him with a pop from your lips and smiled, sitting back on your heels and playing with your tits. 

Alex lay on the bed for a while, and you joined him, rubbing his skin under his cutoff tee. He rolled onto his side and greedily suckled on your nipples, kissing your mouth and neck affectionately, fondling you a little more aggressively than you expected. Then, he looked up at the door and back down at you,

“Will you still want me after your brother breaks my nose?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes,

“Sure, I will.” 

“Then, wait here, baby. I’ll be right back.”

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #alex keller #alex keller x reader #alex keller smut #alex keller cod #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod

[buzzyb33]

Quiet night in.

Prompt: After Josh has been away on a cheap v expensive video for 4 days, then having to stay for another 4 due to the flight delaying Y/n is feeling rather touched starved as not many of her close friends live in London, so when josh got back he found her to be rather clingy.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of smut,

“Ah shit- behz, I have stuff booked-“ Josh scoffs as he looks at Ethan.

“Mate- I can’t do anything about it, and it’s a bit hard finding a flight or flights from Poland to anywhere in the uk at all- so-“ he rambles on as josh rolls his eyes and looks at JJ and Tobi who both look pissed.

An hour later they have some news on their flights.

“Listen- I’m sorry lads but the best it seems like I can do is Tuesday night.” Ethan says, irritation present in his tone.

“Ah fuck off! Tuesday?” JJ shouts.

Josh runs his hands through his hair and sighs, picking up his phone to call Y/n. On the second ring she answers.

“Hey josh! I’m just finishing this recording, are you on your way back?” His girlfriends cheery tone fills his ears.

“Uh- no sorry n/n- I’m- my flights been delayed and I hate to say it but- it’s until Tuesday night.” He says.

“What? Uh- alright.. I hate when these things happen.. I- I’ll see you then, love you.” She says softly.

“Yeah- love you too..”

That night josh went to bed sour while Y/n went to bed disappointed.

The next couple of days she deep cleaned the house and took her mind off her fiancés absence.

When he finally got back to England he was in a better mood as he booked an Uber.

He arrived back at 3 in the morning and he expected Y/n to be fast asleep so when he silently got back into the house and left his bags by the door, he was surprised to see Shameless USA playing on the TV as she sat wrapped in a blanket, eating ice cream.

She still hadn’t noticed him when he leaned down and wrapped his arms around her waist to which she yelled.

“Ah! Josh! You’re back!” She says as she puts her ice cream down and turns to face him.

He smiles tiredly and she wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him tightly, her breasts pressing against his chest as she buries her nose into the nape of his neck.

“I’ve missed you.” She said in a squeaky, surprised tone as he placed his hands underneath her thighs and lifted her off the ground.

“I’ve missed you too.. why are you awake so late?” He says as he starts to carry her into the bedroom, turning the TV off and leaving the almost empty ice cream tub.

“I- couldn’t sleep.” She says gently as he settle her into bed.

She smiles up at him as he pulls his shirt off and leaves his shorts on.

She was wearing a extra large sidemen SpongeBob top as she smiled.

He smiled back as he climbed next to her, letting his cold hands go under her shirt and resting on her abdomen as she shivered and brought her back further into his chest.

“I’ve missed you josh..” she says as she turns to face him, tracing shapes on his chest.

“I’ve missed you too, n/n” he replies as he rests his chin on her head.

The next morning, he wakes up to his fiancés fingers tracing his bare chest in non rhythmic patterns with a small smile, her hollow dimples showing slightly.

He smiles and tightens his grip on her waist.

“Morning..” his rough morning voice almost whispered.

She looked up at him and kissed his lips gently, her other hand now in his cheek.

He tightened his arms around her waist and rests his chin on her head.

She nuzzles herself into his chest further as she inhales his scent.

They just held each other for around two hours before she sat up and kissed his lips, to which he reincorporated— which lead to a make out session which lead to love-filled sex.

Her eyes were now closed again as she lay her head on his bare chest, her face bright red.

“Do- you wanna order some food, n/n?” He asks as his hand runs through her hair.

“Yeah- I don’t mind what you get- I’m going to have a shower.” She smiles as she sits up and kissed his lips again.

After her shower, she changes into some Christmas pyjamas (November is Christmas time) and sits next to Josh on their bed, it was currently 1pm so she assumed her ordered sandwiches or something.

When the food got here- she was proven right when he handed me a New York deli.

That afternoon, we just leaned on each other and watched shows, Allen and laughed, her arm never leaving his, kisses on his cheeks and hands on his hair, she held onto him with such sincerity he was glad he had her.

That night, they spoke till early hours, holding each other tightly.

“Love you josh..” she said gently as they nuzzled each other.

“I love you too, n/n.” He says as he kisses her forehead.

They slept and held each other, the next morning also starting the same way as the previous one, it was clear how much she missed him.

A/n: I don’t know about this one, it doesn’t have as much as regularity!! (I need to work on POV changes bro 😭) hope you enjoyed!!

@ace-call-me-what-youd-like I’ll try get the James fic out soon! Sorry for the wait!

#sidemen x y/n #sidemen x reader #sidemen #miniminter x reader #simon minter #miniminter #behzinga x reader #behzinga #ethan payne #ethan payne x reader #zerkaa x reader #zerkaa #josh zerkaa #ksi x reader #ksi #jj olatunji #tobi brown x reader #tobijzl #vikkstar x reader #vikkstar123

[industriallyinsecure]

ooh hello is it ok to make a little request for la sqaudra reuniting with their s/o after they were gone on a 2 month trip that was back in the usa? I’m having thoughts an if think it’d be a cute reunion maybe aa ( if you could please include Sorbet & Gelato I would greatly appreciate it <3 if not that’s also ok ) thank you! i hope you’re doing ok c:

I realized you might have meant La Squadra was on the trip and came back after I had written most of them, whoops -v-

Risotto doesn’t let on how happy he is you’re back. His face is stoic and bold as ever. It’s only when you’re both cuddled up in bed that he even acknowledges you were gone. He mumbles in his deep voice that he missed you, bumping his large Roman nose against yours in a rare display of vulnerability. Normally he likes to hold hands while sleeping, but this time he’s laying his head across your chest, holding your waist with one arm and linking his fingers with yours with the other. For once in his life, he neglects his work the next day to just spend time with you, shyly peppering kisses across your nose with such gentility that it makes you giggle. He admittedly has abandonment issues, but he doesn’t let you know that he was constantly checking WhatsApp to make sure you were okay, or that he had worried himself sick thinking about almost every ‘what if’ possible. But you’re safe in his arms now, and that’s all that matters to him.

Ghiaccio acts like your absence didn’t bother him, until you mention the ski trip you took with your family. Then, he pouts for the entire drive back from the airport, his face scrunched up and tinged pink. He’ll listen to you for a while before bitching that HE could’ve taken you to a FAR better place in the Alps, and blah blah blah Italian superiority blah. The only way to shut him up is to either kiss him on the lips or force him to cuddle you. Cuddling is probably the way to go, at the very least you’ll make his entire face turn red from the close contact.

Melone is all over you as soon as you pass the airport gates. It’s a little embarrassing how he litters your face in kisses and picks you up and twirls you around in a surprising display of strength. Wants to know every detail about what you did, who you were with, what you ate, what you saw. He loves to watch your facial expressions while you recount your trip, smiling dreamily as he absorbs every detail. If you give him a gift, he’s over the moon and gushes about whatever it is to whoever will (and even those who won’t) listen to him. Missed you probably a bit too much.

Proscuitto is happy you’re back, but he doesn’t show it physically until you’re no longer in public. He’s the type of person who believes any intimacy needs to be kept behind doors. Not because he’s a prude (even though he can be some times), he just believes things like that deserve to be special and just between those involved. He asks about how your trip was, gently nipping at your ears and holding you close in his lap. Normally he doesn’t hold or touch you a lot, but two months of not being able to hold you while you slept in the same bed meant he had a lot to make up for. He sits and flutters his long eyelashes at you, waiting patiently for you so be done with your story so he can bring you into a passionate kiss that leaves you breathless. Lots of smooches and cuddling.

Pesci is freaking out!!! In a good way, that is. He was so lonely while you were gone, even Prosciutto didn’t help his mood improve. You’re immediately smothered in love and kisses by your sweet fishie boy, his face beaming with happiness. He hangs off every word you tell him, cheeks burning when you present him with a gift. You spend most of your time smothering him in love and affection and recounting your trip to him, soothing away his worries about maybe finding someone else.

Illuso acts aloof and cold until you’re in private. Then, he’s touching and holding and kissing and whining to you about everything. He bitches to you about how terrible his squad was to him, even though you know he’s probably the villain in all of his stories. When he’s finally done with his laundry list of complaints, he asks you about your trip. He does care, he just has a funny way of showing it, like making fun of the people you encountered or the restaurants you ate at.

Formaggio honestly probably didn’t even know you were gone. It’s a bit disappointing, to tell the truth, but it’s expected. Feels bad that he didn’t know and tries to make it up to you by listening to your stories from the trip. Falls asleep halfway through. Once again, expected. Formaggio does admit that he missed snuggling and cuddling you, and that his cat wasn’t a good replacement (he’s covered in scratches). Fontina probably notices your absence more because she doesn’t get as many treats.

Gelato is one of those people who makes an embarrassing sign to hold as they wait for their person to come through the gate. Sorbet tried to get him to spare you from embarrassment, but Gelato insisted. So, you’re greeted with a huge “WELCOME BACK FROM REHAB” sign with poorly crossed out pictures of various drugs pasted over the sign, Gelato behind it with a shit eating grin. Sorbet just looks tired. Gelato wastes no time telling you how miserable he and Sorbet were without you, but Sorbet has to assure you that they were fine and didn’t deviate from their usual routine.

#la squadra di esecuzione #ghiaccio #prosciutto #melone #risotto nero #pesci #formaggio #illuso #ghiaccio x reader #sorbet and gelato #la squadra x reader #prosciutto x reader #melone x reader #risotto x reader #risotto nero x reader #sorlato x reader #pesci x reader #illuso x reader #formaggio x reader

[dweetwise]

[Riconti] Holiday spirit

Happy holidays riconti fandom! Please accept this gift of festive fluff 🥰 Rated G | 3.2k words | ao3 link

Felix still feels strange being back in his hometown. 

The Coburg market square is bustling with life at the annual Christmas market. Felix was never an avid visitor before, but this time the nostalgia is kicking in full force: the smell of street food and mulled wine, the glow of string lights and the big Christmas tree, and even the obnoxious holiday jingles make his chest ache with familiarity. It’s almost like he never left Coburg in the first place.

Except for the fact that one Ace Visconti is here with him.

Ace has a mug of Glühwein in his hands and is blowing on the hot beverage, his eyes eagerly drinking in the busy market. It’s a couple degrees below zero and a gentle snow is falling, but despite Felix’s best efforts to the contrary Ace is thoroughly underdressed for the weather. He has neither gloves nor anything to cover his head, and his windbreaker jacket and pants might protect him from the nonexistent wind but not the late-December temperature.

But even if Ace must be freezing, he hasn’t complained once.

…Unlike Felix, who complained first about the long line to the sausage kiosk, then about the awful apple punch they made the mistake of trying, and then about a family of stupid tourists blocking the street. But that’s neither here nor there.

Ace’s nose and ears are already red and Felix should probably be annoyed at him for not dressing properly, but instead he finds it oddly endearing. He doesn’t know how long it will take Ace to get used to German winters after decades of sun on the west coast of the USA, but today is clearly not that day.

A group of teenagers pass them on the street and briefly pause to stare at Ace—who’s currently browsing a selection of wooden crafts—and a few of them giggle and continue on their way. Felix really can’t blame them: the bright, clashing colors of Ace’s outfit stick out like a sore thumb in the sea of muted winterwear in grayscale and neutral colors. Looking at the neon pink and green for too long would probably give Felix a migraine; but then again, he only has his past self to blame for deciding to flirt with a man who combined a leopard print shirt with purple sequin pants.

Felix smiles to himself. If awful fashion sense was a dealbreaker for him, their relationship would probably have lasted less than twenty-four hours total.

“What’re you grinning at?” Ace asks, having caught him staring.

“You,” Felix says bluntly. “And your outfit that is horrendously unfit for this weather.”

Ace scoffs. “It’s not that cold.”

Felix simply smiles. “Come on,” he urges, “We should try the crepes next.”

Ace obediently falls into step beside him. Felix’s hand twitches in a familiar urge to touch—born out of countless times of patching up injuries, pulling each other up on their feet, and sitting by the fire leaning against Ace in quiet solidarity—but there are too many people here and too many eyes on them.

Of course, it doesn't help that Ace is wearing the equivalent of a big flashing sign saying “Look at me!”

“You know, I wasn’t too sure about this market when you first told me about it,” Ace says while they walk. “But it’s actually really cozy with the snow and lights and all. And any event that boils down to drinking wine and eating good food? I’m sold.”

“I’m glad,” Felix says. “It was never my favorite, but I wanted to show you. And even I missed it, after…”

He trails off, and something in Ace's eyes softens. 

"I love it. And I'm glad you wanted to take me here," Ace says. And then, because getting him to be earnest for more than five seconds is like pulling teeth, he grins and adds, "Even if I'm pretty sure all these 'handmade Bavarian' souvenirs came straight out of a Bangladesh sweatshop."

Felix grimaces. He always hated how the tourist crap seemed to overtake more and more of the event each year.

That being said, he still stopped to buy a terribly overpriced and absolutely hideous knit hat while Ace was busy refilling their Glühwein mugs at another stall. It will make a nice Christmas present to match his questionable excuse for a winter jacket.

“So how exactly are crepes German or festive?” Ace prods.

“Because the French can't take credit for mixing milk with flour and throwing it on a pan,” Felix huffs. “It's bad enough they got to name them. Pretentious little shits.”

Ace smirks. “I’m telling Élodie you said that.”

“Trust me, she has much worse opinions about Germans.”

“Ah, sweet neighborly rivalry,” Ace sighs. “I can't wait to meet the Lyras again so they can try—and fail—to argue that Brazil is better than Argentina.”

He looks at Felix expectantly, clearly waiting for him to agree.

“I wouldn’t know,” Felix says. “I’ve never been.”

“Maybe you should do something about that, then,” Ace says. His voice is playful and his smile casual, but he’s still looking at Felix a little too intently for it to be a joke.

“You just have to tell me when and I'll be there,” Felix says and fully means it.

“Yeah, right,” Ace snorts. “I bet Lauren would love for you to go touristing in the middle of a big project.”

“You’re vastly overestimating my importance in the company,” Felix says. “Lauren survived five years without me. I don't think a week will even make a dent in her schedule.”

Ace regards him silently: he knows that Felix took on much less responsibility upon returning to work—“Richter & Golder” was practically just “Golder” these days, and Felix was grateful Lauren even wanted him back on the team at all—but Felix suspects it’s another thing to see it in practice.

“You'd really come to Argentina?” Ace finally asks.

“Of course,” Felix says. “But only if you want me to.”

Ace beams up at him, then throws his head back and groans dramatically. “Oh, god, my sisters will eat you alive. Please don't learn any Spanish before the trip. Or Italian. You know what, just wear noise canceling headphones whenever they’re around. Actually—”

Felix watches Ace ramble with a smile. He’s leaving for Buenos Aires in just a few days to spend the holidays with his sisters and their families, having reunited with them after their escape from the Entity. For as much as Ace sang the praises of Las Vegas and America for the last few years, he doesn't seem to care much about going back to the USA compared to Argentina and Germany.

“—though, full disclosure, if you don't like Dulce de Leche I'm breaking up with you,” Ace says.

Felix chuckles. “I suspect I won’t, but I’ll be sure to lie for your benefit.”

“That’s all I ask,” Ace says with a grin.

They’re finally coming up to the crepe kiosk and Ace turns to look at the menu. It’s a little strange to imagine not being with him for Christmas, seeing as they’ve—admittedly not by choice—spent every holiday together for the last few years. Even if said holidays mostly consisted of Dwight in an elf costume distributing firecrackers and styptic agents around the campfire.

But Felix knows they both have more important places to be. Ace hasn’t spent quality time with his family in decades, and Felix's number one priority for the foreseeable future will spending every moment he possibly can with his own new family:

His five-year-old daughter, Klara.

Felix's ex-girlfriend has invited him over for Christmas eve to have dinner and open presents together. It will most likely be indescribably awkward—especially with both his ex’s parents and her new husband there—but they’re all doing it for Klara, who seemed very excited about the idea.

Or possibly just about the extra presents.

Regardless, Felix immensely respects his ex for not only managing to build a stable home for their daughter when he disappeared, but for being honest with said daughter from the start. Even when she was furious with Felix for seemingly abandoning them, for five years she told Klara stories about her other father building houses and showed her pictures of him. And when Felix finally showed back up and tried to pick up the pieces of his broken life, he got to meet his daughter for the first time and she immediately recognized him.

Felix clears his throat before washing down the sudden lump in his throat with some Glühwein. He’s not sure what he's done to deserve so many incredible people in his life—the survivors, Lauren, his ex, Klara, Ace—but he’s determined to be a man they can all be proud of.

“Che.” Ace nudges Felix's side, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Hm?”

“Is the crepe guy okay?” Ace whispers, leaning closer to Felix while staring at the shopkeeper frying a batch of crepes. “He just chucked three whole chocolate bars on a crepe and wrapped it up like it was normal.”

Felix snorts, his somber mood instantly elevated. “It's a Kinder bar too. That has to be some kind of crime against gastronomy.”

“I know.” Ace only pauses for a beat before asking, “Should we get one of those?”

Felix doesn’t even hesitate. “Of course.”

Ace shoots him a lopsided smirk. “You really do have a soft spot for tacky things,” he says, then turns to place their order.

Felix bites his lip to suppress a thoroughly dorky smile. Just five years ago, he would have scoffed at the mere sight of children’s street food and retro windbreakers, all to preserve the image of a man nobody even liked. And even if the motto of “be yourself” first seemed like an impossible task after half a lifetime of hiding everything genuine about himself, it’s been slowly but surely resurfacing—through trials, friendships, and having someone by his side who never judges.

Felix doesn't have to filter himself with Ace. Even his worst foot-in-mouth moments only earn teasing remarks in response and more often than not end in both of them laughing. Ace doesn’t take offense to Felix's bluntness and he more than pulls his weight in the playful bickering that has become one of Felix's favorite pastimes.

And Felix knows the feeling goes both ways: all their years together have chipped away at Ace’s compulsive lying just like it has for Felix's play-act. Ace has never had to avoid talking about his past of crimes and addiction and betraying people for money, because Felix doesn't judge him by who he was before, but rather by who he is today.

Just a few days ago, a seemingly harmless question about whether Felix could chip in for Ace’s plane tickets derailed into a serious conversation, with Ace sitting Felix down and making him swear to never give him a significant sum of money or gift him anything valuable that could be returned. There was always a part of Ace that would crave the thrill of gambling and the risk of relapsing increased significantly if he had easy money lying around—no matter if he knew said money was meant for rent, bills, or a plane ticket.

Felix was silent for a long time after that revelation. Ace tried to joke it off and desperately switch the subject, but after Felix quietly stood and pulled him into his arms, Ace just slumped against him and exhaled a long and shaky breath. Neither of them had to use words, because the meaning was clear:

Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for understanding me. Thank you for being here.

“Biological weapon acquired!” Ace strolls up to Felix with a grin, holding a cardboard plate with a crepe and two forks sticking out of it.

Felix probably shouldn't be making heart eyes at a man in full neon carrying a glorified candy pancake, but he does. 

Ace steers them to an unoccupied table and hands Felix his fork. They proceed to eat a few bites in expectant silence.

“It’s good,” Ace says, clearly surprised. “Why is it good!?”

“It’s way too sweet,” Felix complains. He still keeps eating the crepe.

“Let’s just agree that after three mugs of wine we’re too drunk to know better,” Ace says.

“Speak for yourself, you lightweight.”

“Well excuse me for not being six-foot-two and born with German beer in my veins!”

Felix snorts and proceeds to almost choke on his bite, then bows his head to wheeze quietly instead.

“That’s it, no more Kinder for you,” Ace says, holding the plate protectively against himself. “I should have known that shit is like crack to Germans. No wonder it’s banned in the States.”

Felix wheezes harder and has to lean against the table for support, his shoulders shaking with the force of his laughter. He dimly registers someone muttering, “What the fuck is wrong with that guy?” in German, but he really can’t bring himself to care.

When Felix has somewhat collected himself and looks up, Ace is smiling smugly at him around a forkful of crepe.

“Drink?” Ace asks, pushing his mug closer to Felix’s empty one over the table.

Felix nods and accepts the item, and in quiet understanding they turn to stand side by side and look over the market while Ace polishes off the crepe and Felix finishes his drink.

He enjoys these moments of silence between them just as much as the usual back-and-forth or long conversations at the campfire. Felix knows that they still have a lot to figure out when it comes to adjusting back to a normal life, with the logistics and long distance and Felix's daughter. But instead of the existential dread that’s plagued Felix for most of his life, these days he only feels a deep calm when thinking about the future.

Things have been so much easier when there’s a constant in his life, something that’s not dependent on Felix's career or family name. And every time Felix wakes from a nightmare or starts second-guessing himself on whether all that horrible shit really happened, he just has to listen to Ace snoring next to him or touch one of the numerous lucky charms he insists on showering Felix with.

Ace is tangible proof that Felix went through hell and came out stronger for it. He’s been Felix's anchor for years and even when he’s across the world, Felix still feels just as grounded as he does with Ace right by his side.

Ace glances at Felix and catches him looking—Felix has been watching him for quite some time instead of observing the market—and he quirks an eyebrow as he tosses the empty plate in a nearby bin. 

“You’re staring again,” Ace says. “Are you gonna keep nagging about my jacket?”

In response, Felix simply leans closer, then hesitates and searches Ace's eyes. Understanding dawns on Ace’s features before his mouth splits into a bright smile, and then he’s grabbing Felix by the lapels of his jacket and pulling him down for a kiss.

Ace’s nose is cold where it bumps into Felix’s cheek but his lips are warm, stained with chocolate and mulled wine and soft against Felix’s. Felix cups Ace’s head and sinks into the gentle press of their mouths, simply enjoying the closeness.

Felix doesn't care if people are watching. He doesn’t care if someone sees him with a man or thinks they’re being inappropriate. He doesn’t care that they still have many challenges to face. For the first time ever, Felix knows exactly what he wants to do with his life and he’s going to do everything in his power to get it.

Starting with kissing the man he loves in the most crowded place in all of Coburg, apparently.

Ace is trembling when they pull apart. Felix could flatter himself by thinking his kissing prowess was enough to make him weak in the knees, but the truth is that the weather must finally be catching up to Ace.

And he still won't admit it, the stubborn idiot.

“You know,” Felix starts, brushing his thumb over the stubble on Ace’s cheek. “There’s a pub I like just down the street. Why don’t we go and warm up for a little while?”

“Oh, thank god,” Ace groans and thumps his forehead against Felix’s shoulder. “I’m fucking freezing and this supposedly famous wine really isn’t all that great.”

“You could have told me you were cold.”

Ace pulls back enough to give him a defiant stare. “And listen to your ‘For the love of god, Ace, I told you five times to bring a scarf’ all the way home? Not a chance.”

“I would never,” Felix says. Ace huffs a disbelieving snort, and Felix can’t suppress his smile as he continues, “Because I told you at least ten times and also asked you to bring gloves, and a thicker jacket, and—”

“Okay, okay!” Ace exclaims. “Christ, the word Besserwisser was probably coined just for you, wasn’t it?”

Felix chuckles and reaches into his pocket for the knit cap he bought earlier. He was planning to wrap it and gift it properly another day, but practicality usually trumps sentimentality where Felix is concerned.

“Here,” Felix says, holding out the item. “Merry Christmas.”

Ace stares at the hat while most likely silently judging both its cliché reindeer pattern and questionable orange-brown color scheme.

“It’s traditional Bangladeshi reindeer,” Felix deadpans.

“Thank you,” Ace finally says slowly, then puts on the hat. “How do I look?”

Felix tries not to laugh as he takes in the sight. The cap somehow looks even worse when it’s worn because of the pattern stretching and distorting. The price tag also still dangles loosely from the too-big pompom on top, and the muted orange and brown somehow makes the neon of Ace’s jacket pop out even more obnoxiously.

“Fucking hideous,” Felix concludes.

Ace barks out a laugh and Felix chuckles too. Despite Felix’s harsh words, they’re both leaning into each other, Ace’s arms wrapping around Felix’s waist and Felix gently tucking a few errant strands of gray hair into the cap.

“Good,” Ace says, then looks up to meet Felix’s eyes with an overly exaggerated pout. “Now hold me, I’m cold.”

Felix smiles and slings an arm over Ace’s shoulders to pull him even closer. “Come on. It's not far.”

Ace lets himself be led to a quiet pub around the street corner, insisting on paying for their drinks while apologizing for not having anything to gift Felix in return. Felix maybe gets a little sappy and confesses that just having him here is the best gift of all, and in response Ace tugs him into a corner booth and kisses him longer and deeper than is probably appropriate.

And despite the cold and crowd and fashion hiccups along the way, this year’s Christmas market will remain Felix’s favorite for a long, long time.

Or at least until next year when they no doubt visit it again.

Thanks for reading! 💞 Ace’s outfit is from his leaked winter skin, because it’s tacky and I love it. (Minus the headpiece. What the fuck is that beard.)

#riconti #felix richter #ace visconti #dbd fanfic #dweetwrites #dbd #dead by daylight

[girlsculturetechnology]

SEYEON’S PROFILE

PERSONAL PROFILE

BIRTH NAME: Choi Se-yeon (최세연)

ENGLISH NAME: Sarah Choi

NICKNAMES:

DATE OF BIRTH: May 13, 1997

PLACE OF BIRTH: Incheon, South Korea

HOMETOWN: New York City, USA

SEX AND GENDER: female woman

PRONOUNS: she/her

ETHNICITY: Korean

NATIONALITY: South Korean

CITIZENSHIP: South Korean, American

SOCIAL CLASS: upper class

BLOOD TYPE: A

CHINESE ZODIAC SIGN: Ox (牛)

STAR SIGN: Taurus

MBTI: ISTP

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION

EYE COLOR: dark brown

HAIR COLOR: black

HEIGHT: 161cm (5’3’)

WEIGHT: 46kg (101lbs)

BODY BUILD: hourglass figure; small ribcage, strong and visible muscles, good posture

SKIN TONE: light-medium; warm undertone

SKIN TYPE: oily

FACE SHAPE: heart; small face, v-shaped jawline, flat chin

EYE SHAPE: round; double eyelids, ‘sad’ eyes

NOSE SHAPE: high nose bridge, pointy nose tip, small nose wings

LIP SHAPE: heart; prominent cupid’s bow

OTHER NOTICEABLE FEATURES: straight eyebrows, dimples

PROCEDURES: skin whitening, jaw shaving, rhinoplasty, lip fillers, botox

DOMINANT HAND: left

BODY MODIFICATIONS: piercings (left ear - 2, right ear - 2)

LOOKALIKES:

VOICE CLAIM: Jurin (XG)

CAREER PROFILE

OCCUPATION: K-Pop Idol

STAGE NAME: Seyeon

NICKNAMES:

FANDOM NAME: NCTzen /

LABEL: SM Entertainment (2007–)

GROUP: NCT (2016–), Girls On Top (2022–)

SUBUNITS: NCT U (2016–), NCT 127 (2016–), NCT DREAM (2016–2018, 2021–), GOT the beat (2022–)

POSITIONS: main dancer (127, DREAM, GOT the beat), lead rapper (127, DREAM, GOT the beat), face of the group (NCT)

REPRESENTATIVE COLOR: neon pink

REPRESENTATIVE EMOJI: 🍭

ROLE MODEL(S): Lee Hyori (soloist), BoA (soloist)

BEST KNOWN FOR:

being "the next BoA" (trainee days)

being a first female member of NCT

dance skills

stage presence

view full information

BACKSTORY

Seyeon was born on May 13, 1997, in Incheon, South Korea, to her mother Kim Ji-yeon and her father Choi Song-ho. She is an only child.

She comes from a rich family. Her mother is an actress and her father is a bank manager.

In 1998, her family moved to New York, USA. She was raised there and therefore grew up bilingual. They came back to Korea in 2006.

In 2007, Seyeon was approached by an SM employee while she was shopping with her grandma. Although they walked away, the employee found them again a month later. Seyeon didn't have any skills, yet she was cast and joined SM as a trainee.

For most time, Seyeon trained to be a soloist. After a couple of years, she trained with Red Velvet members and was meant to debut with them.

On December 3, 2013, Seyeon was introduced as a member of SM Rookies, a pre-debut team of trainees under SM Entertainment.

Right before Red Velvet's debut, Seyeon was removed from the line-up. She then was put in solo training again.

On January 27, 2016, SM Entertainment released two videos that announced the company's new group NCT. On April 4, Seyeon's teasers were posted. She officially debuted with NCT U on April 9, 2016, with the digital single "The 7th Sense".

On July 1, 2016, SM Entertainment announced the debut of the second NCT unit, NCT 127, that Seyeon would be a part of. She officially debuted with NCT 127 on July 10, 2016, with the group's first mini album "NCT #127".

On August 19, 2016, SM Entertainment released the first teasers for NCT's third unit, NCT DREAM, that Seyeon would be a part of. She officially debuted with NCT DREAM on August 24, 2016, with the group's first digital single "Chewing Gum".

On August 26, 2018, SM Entertainment announced that Seyeon would be graduating from NCT DREAM along with Mark due to maturity of age. She officially left the group on December 31, 2018.

On April 29, 2020, SM Entertainment announced that Seyeon and Mark would be coming back to NCT DREAM. She officially came back to NCT DREAM on May 10,2021, with the group's first full album "Hot Sauce".

On December 27, 2021, SM Entertainment announced the debut of a female project group Girls On Top and its first unit GOT the beat which Seyeon would be a part of. She officially debuted as a member of GOT the beat on January 3, 2022, with the group's first digital single "Step Back".

FACTS / TRIVIA

She is the first NCT member to join SM.

She speaks Korean, English, Japanese, and some Chinese.

She has three cats and one dog.

Favorite color: hot pink

Favorite food: meat

@alixnsuperstxr

#⇢ ˗ˏˋ seyeon ࿐ྂ #⇢ ˗ˏˋ girlsculturetechnology ࿐ྂ #fictional idol oc #fictional kpop community #fictional idol community #fictional kpop idol #fictional kpop oc #fake kpop idol #fictional idol group #fake kpop addition #fake kpop oc #fake kpop member #nct addition #nct added member #nct female oc #nct female addition #nct female member #nct 127 female member #nct 127 female addition #nct 127 10th member #nct dream added member #nct dream female addition #nct dream addition #nct dream female member #nct dream 8th member

[peakgenko]

HAIKYUU INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE

Haikyuu superhero au

Kuroo x reader, Sugawara x reader, Hinata x reader

Kuroo,

You always had a nagging suspicion about Kuroo’s rather peculiar character. The thing about Kuroo was that nothing about him really screamed significant. He was well liked by his teachers, scored a perfect attendance, had a fair share of friends, and he cleaned up nicely. No one’s eyes lingered on him for more than five seconds. He was just that sort of guy. He fit right in.

However, around the half mark of the semester, Kuroo’s facade of picture perfect had been slowly slipping. He could never seem to make time for his friends anymore, he left the av club, volleyball club, and debate team. He could never go without 1 hour before slipping out of a function to tend to personal matters. He’d come to class in shambles. Bandaids never seemed to be in the same place as they had been the last time.

But every possible theory and possibly for what Kuroo indulged in after school hours were thrown out the window when the raven haired boy you so feverishly yearned for had plopped down from the rooftop in an alleyway you just so happened to be loitering in. It was humanely impossible for a boy of his build to go uninjured from such a high fall. You’ve seen that mask many times before. At first, you couldn’t wait to tell your friends about your run in with New york’s friendliest vigilante. But when the masked individual pulled his mask over his head to reveal a full head of ravenous curls that you never managed to get a proper glimpse of in the halls, the boy your eyes never lingered on for more than five seconds- in fear that he might catch you, you stood awe struck.

“Kuroo?” He hadn’t noticed you lurking in the shadows. He shuns himself for being so careless and stupid. His cat like eyes rest on yours. His eyes fixate on you.

“You’re the pretty girl from chemistry. What brings you to these fine parts of New York.” His hand gestures to your surroundings, graffiti and shit littered. The smell of urine and cigarettes plague your nostrils. He kept a suave demeanour but really, Spidey was losing his shit. He didn’t attempt to reason or deny any absurd allegations of him being the mask vigilante that always seems to hold the media in a chokehold. Besides, He’s always wanted to speak to you. The universe just granted him a kickass introduction into your life. Real smooth

Sugawara,

You were a curious person since birth. Your gift of getting to the bottom of things down to its last atom is what you’d say got you a position in New York Times. Assigned with a task to research a topic that involved a whole lot of system corruption, bad cops, and dirty politicians, danger became very hard to avoid.

Word of Spider-Man’s little reporter friend plagues the streets. It seems you always find yourself in sticky situations where he has to come save the day like a hopeless damsel in distress. You two just cannot seem to keep away from one another.

What started as harmless run ins became secret meet ups on top of buildings, alleyway kisses, and nightly escapades.

You knew if he revealed his identity he’d put himself in jeopardy so you never pushed it. But the thought that maybe it was because he didn’t trust you- you being a big shot reporter and all- never left your mind.

Though kisses where his mask stopped just above the bridge of his nose- hanging upside down so that your eyes and lips were the only thing in peripheral of his buggy vigilante eyes would suffice.

After it became very clear that Spidey boy had a very huge soft spot for you, your higher ups pestered you about getting insight on whose eyes really lay behind that red mask of his.

You only ever moved to New York- the heart and soul of the USA to prove to everyone how capable you could be in the writing field. We’re you really going to jeopardize your career and throw it all away for some masked hero whom you don’t even know the name of? Or will you take your boss up on that offer and make a name for yourself.

But every time he waits by your window sill perched on his fours, shows you the night city from a different aspect or rather right above it with his hand wrapped around your waist and the other swinging the two of your bodies through the skies, every time he beats the bad guy and hauls you into his arms of safety, it becomes clear to you where your priorities lay.

Hinata,

He couldn’t help it. He was a boy much too dorky for your caliber. He was in the robotics club, he argued passionately in the debate club, and his interest lied in which issue one piece just dropped. His idea of a good time was staying the night in with his equitably geeky friends. He never even held a girls hand. But he didn’t feel that way with his mask on. He felt like he was in control. With his mask on, he had so much more play? You’d hardly believe how many girls throw themselves into him when he poses as the friendly neighbourhood hero everyone so dearly loves.

He knew it was selfish to use the mask for his own personal motives. It went against his morals completely. But when he spoke to you for the first time behind his suit, it all just came so easy.

For the first time, you looked at him. For the first time, you spoke to him.

Eventually, he couldn’t leave you alone. And you were more than okay with it. You never understood why such a world renowned hero bothered giving you the time of day. Besides it was a little hard to stay away from him. His suave and witty personality always gravitated toward you. He made you laugh. Meet ups with the celebrity masked hero became your little secret.

Unfortunately for Spider-Man, you could never really manage to reciprocate his feelings fully. Because your heart ached for a rather futile situationship of your own with this eccentric and bashful ginger you could never seem to hold a conversation with at school.

stay tuned for part two <3

#spiderman #spider verse #spider man au #superhero au #haikyuu!! #haikyu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu oneshot #sugawara x reader #hinata x reader #kuroo x reader #sugawara koushi #hinata shoya #kuroo tetsurou

[whisker-biscuit]

The Lines We Cross: Chapter 2

Sunset Snake Eyes

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

I know you

I walked with you once upon a dream

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

There was something grim and urgent in the air when Carmelita stepped through the front doors of Interpol HQ the next day. Officers and office workers alike hurried back and forth without even glancing her way, and she felt a ball of unease settle in her stomach as she made her way up to the floor where her office was situated. Everyone was frantic around her like a hive of bees that had just lost their queen.

She turned a corner and nearly collided with Winthorp, who jumped a meter into the air with a squeak.

“Winthorp, what’s going on?” She asked. “Why is the entire department up in arms?”

“Ah - well - you see -” the otter stammered, and now that she was really looking at him, she could see the same lines of stress across his face as with everyone else. “I’m not - not really at liberty to say but - oh, yeah, about that! Inspector Barkley wants to s-see you right away!”

The inspector blinked, confused and concerned. “Again?”

“Yes! He wanted to see you as soon as you came into work!” Winthorp gave her an apologetic look. “I was - I was supposed to call to let you know but with - with everything going on I just -”

“It’s fine,” Carmelita cut him off before he could start rambling. She pivoted in place and started walking without looking back. “Thanks.”

“A-Anytime!”

The idea of returning to her boss’s office right on the heels of a major dressing-down had the woman’s stomach turning, but she kept her head high and tried not to let her nerves get the best of her. At the very least, he’d be able to tell her what the hell was going on around here without any sugarcoating.

Barkley didn’t even look up from his computer when Inspector Fox entered the room. He took a long puff of his cigar, baggy eyes illuminated by the small red glow, and smoke curled around his white mustache, giving the illusion of it being even bigger than it was. Smoking in the office meant he was beyond stressed- an even worse omen than everything else she’d seen this morning.

“You wanted to see me again, sir?” She asked as soon as the door was shut behind her.

“Fox,” he grunted, waving a hand towards the empty chair in front of his desk without looking up. Carmelita sat down immediately and resisted the urge to speak until he was done with his private train of thought.

Finally he pulled his eyes from his screen and set a thick manilla folder between them, flipping it open until it landed on a picture of a giant muscular bulldog sneering at the camera.

“What do you know about this man here?” The badger asked, steepling his fingers together as he squinted at her.

She glanced down at the photo. “Muggshot. Aliases “Two Gun Tony”, also known as “Meathead” Muggshot. Member of the Fiendish Five. Wanted in five countries with ten outstanding warrants for his arrest.”

Inspector Barkley didn’t move a muscle as she recited details from the criminal’s case file without having to read it. His brow drew even heavier down over his eyes.

“Sir, what’s this about? Why is everyone so frantic out there? Is it related to Muggshot? Did we finally pinpoint his location?”

“It’s less that we pinpointed it and more that he’s announced it,” her boss said, grim and gruff and angry. “Fourteen hours ago, Mesa City in Nevada, USA experienced a coordinated attack on its police force by a gang of canines. As of 2 AM our time, they’ve completely taken over the city and have driven out all its civilians. Muggshot has declared it as his territory.”

Inspector Fox’s mouth fell open.

“He - that’s - that’s ludicrous!” She exclaimed, unable to keep her total disbelief out of her tone. What kind of police force couldn’t keep a group of criminals from taking over an entire city?

The badger growled and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. It was clear he was fighting a headache. “I’m well aware. And instead of sending in state or even federal officers, the US government wants us to take care of it. I was contacted barely an hour ago and told that we ‘needed to handle the situation as quickly as possible’.”

Ah. That explained the frenzy throughout the entire building. Carmelita pursed her lips and squared her shoulders.

“What do you want me to do, sir?” She asked, knowing that he wouldn’t have called her into his office just to bring her up to speed on something that even Winthorp could have told her.

“Right now, we need information. We don’t know how many people Muggshot has hired to defend his claim, what kinds of weapons or other resistance we’d be facing, or even where he’s stationed his base of operations. It’s a large city and I do not want my officers walking into a slaughter. The last thing we need on top of a takeover is a damn turf war.”

Her fists clenched in righteous rage, even as her head was spinning. “You want me to be a covert operative.”

“I do.” Barkley gave her a harsh, critical stare. “I know most of the cases you’ve taken have been raids or following criminal trails. This is an entirely different ball game. Subtlety is crucial here, and we can’t afford to screw this up. People’s entire lives and livelihoods are on the line. Do you understand, Fox?”

The inspector’s tongue felt like sandpaper inside her mouth as she answered. “Yes, sir. I won’t let you down.”

“Good.” Even so, her boss did not look entirely convinced. “Now get out of this office and go pack. You’ve got a plane to catch.”

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

Mesa City was famous even outside of its own country. It was a thriving “boom town” that saw a lot of tourists, a lot of traffic, and a lot of wealth, and crime had always been remarkably low for such a large city. Now, there was absolutely nothing to suggest that it was anything other than a ghost town.

It turned Carmelita’s stomach as she killed the engine of her car and stepped cautiously out onto a deserted street. In fact, the entire city was devoid of anything that would normally classify it as a city; quiet and empty and completely dark. It left a chill in the air much deeper than the wind already whistling through the buttes and plateaus around it. There wasn’t a single other soul to be found here.

Except for one lone officer with something to prove.

The fox shivered and wrapped her beige jacket a little more securely around her, hiding her shock pistol at her hip and her Interpol badge at the base of her throat. Even so, she felt like a Christmas tree lit up in a dark void of light-sucking leeches, and every shadow and noise stood her fur on end as she took her first proper steps into Mesa City.

Covert ops. She’d run simulations in the academy and done a few simple cases here and there, but nothing on this scale, and she could already feel the oppressive hand of expectation weighing heavily on her shoulders.

Valedictorian, prodigy, expert marksman, youngest ever Interpol graduate - none of those pretty words of praise mattered when faced with ten to twenty years of hard experience dismissing her input on cases or cornering her in the break room to interrogate her about how she would respond to increasingly outlandish scenarios. Her most recent failure - the entire string of recent failures - was just the icing on the cake. If she messed this one up, none of the senior officers would ever take her seriously again.

Not even Barkley would be willing to back her up anymore.

No. No, she shook her head to clear the cloud threatening to dull her thoughts. You can do this. You will do this.

Second only to the Diva Diamond case, this was her biggest chance to show everyone just how capable she truly was. Muggshot was an infamous criminal, almost above her shiny new pay grade as a detective inspector. All Carmelita really needed to do was get the intel asked of her without getting caught, relay it back to HQ, and wait for backup to help in the raid proper.

All too easy. And if she was lucky enough, she might not even have to use her shock pistol.

Back straightening at the mental pep talk, Inspector Fox’s stride quickened into something a little more confident.

She could do this.

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

Tony Bull-Mastiff took a long drag of his cigarette as he picked up another card from the deck. It was a bunk card to go with the rest of his bunk hand, and he huffed an irritated smoky breath out between clenched teeth. The dalmatian across from him, Inkspot Jackson, gave the slightest smirk in response.

“You’re cheating.”

“Nah. You just suck.”

The mastiff growled, but it did nothing to faze his opponent, who only stared coolly back at him without so much as a blink. The same could not be said for the third player at the table - a jittery little terrier whose name he didn’t care enough to learn - because he startled so badly he bumped the table enough to make it rattle.

“Watch it,” Tony snapped at him. The terrier jolted again but didn’t make it a problem for the rest of them, and they all settled back into their playing.

After a few more minutes, he leaned back in his chair, thoughts more preoccupied with something other than the game he was losing.

“So…what’s the deal with the kid?”

“What kid?”

“The raccoon. Why’s the boss carting him around with the pack? It’s pretty obvious he ain’t one of us.”

The other two dogs stared at him like he had just asked why the sky was blue. He stared them down, daring them to tell him he was an idiot for asking a simple question.

“Oh, right. I forgot you’re new to Muggshot’s crew.” Inkspot passed his cards back and forth between his hands with the grace of a professional dealer. “That ringtail has been around on and off for years. He’s Muggshot’s livin’ lockpick.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up his forehead in interest. “Is he now? Where’d the guy find him?”

“No idea, and I’m not paid enough to care. You gonna play your turn or not?”

Instead of picking up another card he knew was going to lose him more money, the mastiff laid his hand down and leaned forward to pull the others into a conspiratorial huddle.

“Is he still here? You said he’s only around sometimes.”

Both dalmatian and terrier shared a look. It was the latter that piped up.

“Yeah, he’s still here. As soon as I finished setting up that special elevator to the penthouse, the boss carted him upstairs and hasn’t brought him down since. Why?”

“You helped with the elevator?” Inkspot asked, surprised.

“Forget all that,” Tony waved an irritated hand in the air to keep the conversation on topic. “That means he’s still up there, right?”

It took only a moment for his real question to register. The terrier shook his head adamantly.

“Don’t even think about it. He’s on the top floor.”

Nothing else needed to be said. No one, not even Mugshot’s favorite lackeys, stepped a foot higher than the ninth. Top floor was reserved for the bulldog and the bulldog alone.

That also meant, of course, that their boss’ special guest was off-limits, too. But off-limits had never stopped Tony “The Killer” B. before, and it wasn’t going to stop him now. He stood, picked up his cards, and offered it to the dalmatian with a scheming grin.

“Well. The boss is out on the town tonight and I got a job that could use a safecracker. How's about we stop playing for chump change and get our money’s worth for our fine work on this big job?”

The terrier started to protest, but Tony’s looming figure shut him up real quick. Inkspot eyed the offered cards with a greedy gleam in his eye that was only offset by a healthy dose of fear.

“What happens if Muggshot finds out about any of this? He’s shot men for much less than stealin’ from him, in case you didn’t know.”

“We’re not stealin’. We’re just borrowin’ without permission. We’ll get what we want and put the kid back in his cradle before you can finish a round of Texas Hold’em. Whaddya say?”

The dalmatian still hesitated, having been in Muggshot’s gang for far longer and well-aware of his infamous temper. But ultimately, the promise of money won over, and he took the cards with his own creeping grin.

“Spark,” he said to the terrier, who looked like he was going to have an aneurysm, “do you know how to get into that special elevator?”

Spark whined as they both turned to him. “If you think I’m goin’ along with a stupid scheme like this -”

“C’mon, ‘Spark’,” Tony gave a laugh that was more of a growl, wrapping one burly arm around the other dog’s much tinier frame. “Do you really wanna let this city’s pretty things go to waste? What’s the point in scarin’ everybody away if we can’t take advantage of their absence?”

“I wanna not be shot to pieces,” he replied, exasperated and stressed, but the slightest squeeze of the mastiff’s hand made him grimace. “Okay! Fine! Only if we’re in and out as fast as possible.”

“Look who you’re talkin’ to here, pal. Between the three of us, it’s gonna take twenty minutes tops. Now what was that about gettin’ into the special elevator?”

The terrier led them unwillingly to the hotel’s front lobby, where he pulled a shiny blue key out from one pocket.

“I’m one of the only guys who knows maintenance,” he explained when Inkspot’s mouth fell open at the sight of it. “The boss trusts me cause he has to.”

“Then it sure is a good thing we found ya first, huh?” Tony grunted, getting impatient. “Go on, then.”

Spark unlocked the cubby and pulled the lever to call the elevator down; all three dogs watched with different levels of respect as it appeared out of its genius secret hiding place and opened for them without any hassle or opposition.

They went straight up to the top floor and began searching rooms. Inkspot’s nose worked double-time to pick up the raccoon’s scent and it had him leading the others down one specific hallway.

It didn’t take long to find what they were looking for. A single suite door was barricaded from the outside with a thick wooden plank nailed horizontally across it, sticking out like a sore thumb among a dozen other untouched doors. Tony grinned and made short work of ripping the plank right off.

The door itself wasn’t locked, and they all barged in as one large, muscular group. Just as expected, there was a raccoon inside, who sat up quickly where he’d been lying on a fancy plush bed, staring at the three of them in surprise. When they advanced into the room, the kid got to his feet and tried to keep his distance.

“Who are you? What do you want?” He asked, prickly in every word.

Tony grinned. “We’re here to collect ya for a job. Boss’s orders.”

The raccoon looked each of them up and down and then took another step back. His eyes shifted to the red backpack at the foot of his bed, just out of his reach.

“What, don’t believe us?”

“No,” he said, curt, “because Muggshot always comes for me himself. What do you really want?”

The mastiff’s lip pulled back in an irritated snarl. “Fine, brat. We're enjoyin’ a night out on the town and we'd like you to join us.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” The raccoon spit back, inching away from the trio as Inkspot circled around towards his left side.

“Not whatever you think it is.” Already impatient, the dog crossed the room in two strides, forcing his target to flatten himself against the wall just to avoid touching him. “This city is officially ours, so I figured that includes anything shiny that catches my eye.”

He shot one arm out to catch the raccoon by the front of his hoodie before he could even think of trying to duck under him in retreat.

“And from what I hear, you got a special little talent for getting into things yer not s'pposed to.”

The kid's expression darkened and he looked away, tense as a bowstring. His next words came out in a mumble - a last ditch effort to dissuade the pack.

“Muggshot isn't going to like that you took me out of my room without permission, you know.”

“What the boss don't know won't make him mad. And besides, we won’t be gone long. No one’s gonna notice that you’re gone.”

The other two dogs shared an apprehensive glance, but they didn’t say their concerns out loud. Tony grinned and lifted the raccoon to his eye level.

“You ain’t gonna cause no trouble for us now, got it? Muggshot ain’t gotta know ‘bout your little late-night outing. We’re just takin’ ya for a walk. Seein’ the sights.”

The kid’s gaze flickered between the three of them. It was clear he was weighing the immediate danger of their presence against the potential danger of Muggshot. And while they all feared the bulldog’s wrath, it would only come to pass if he found out. These three could and would do very real damage, very fast. Their unwilling guest seemed to understand that, at least, because he eventually wilted in the bruiser’s hold.

“Good boy.” Tony dropped him, and he stumbled to catch himself. “Hurry up and get yer shoes on. The sooner we leave the sooner we get back.”

After shooting a nasty look at the dog, he crouched to slide on the shoes sitting at the end of his bed. His fingers closed around the handles of his red backpack as he stood up, but Inkspot pulled it out of his hold before he could sling it across his back.

“What's in here?” He asked, giving it a suspicious sniff.

“My lockpicking stuff. I'll need it if I'm going to help you get what you want.”

“Hmm…” The dalmatian unzipped the largest compartment and started rummaging through it. He pulled out a golden hook, which made the kid stiffen. “What’s this? Doesn’t look like a lockpick to me.”

“It’s - it’s like a crowbar. I use it to pry open heavy doors.” His hands twitched at his sides as the dog turned it over and over. “I don’t exactly have the strength that you guys do.”

Tony snorted. Inkspot smirked. Even Spark let out a strange little squeak that could have been a laugh. The hook was dumped back into the backpack and it was pushed into the raccoon's arms, who zipped it up and clutched it close before any of them changed their minds.

Tony grabbed him by the arm and steered him out of the room.

“Let’s go.”

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

Carmelita’s ears perked up at the sound of shattering glass and the excited holler of criminals. She peered around the corner of a building to see three muscled dogs sauntering out of a jewelry shop, draped in silver and gems and god knew what else.

“Not a bad haul, eh, boys?” The largest of them crowed, patting another hard at his back with diamond-encrusted bracelets wrapped around his fingers like brass knuckles. “Can’t argue with results, can ya?”

The inspector felt her hackles rise at the sight. How dare these men flaunt their violence and disrespect of the law while thousands of people had to flee their homes, their businesses, their livelihoods?

Before she got the chance to even take a step out from the shadow of the building, one of the dogs turned back and pulled a fourth member out through the shattered front door. A raccoon, looking no older than seventeen or eighteen, who stood uncomfortably between the three like he would rather be anywhere else.

He’s not wearing any jewelry, Carmelita noticed with narrowed eyes. The police reports had claimed that all of Muggshot’s followers were canine, and almost all with criminal records already. But this…kid, looked more like a civilian than a crook.

He murmured something that she was too far away to catch. Whatever it was, the biggest dog – the leader of this posse, she was guessing – didn’t like it at all. With a snarl, he lunged for the raccoon, who made a valiant attempt at avoidance but hit a brick wall of muscle as the other two dogs corralled him.

Large meaty hands grabbed the kid by his shirt collar, lifting him off his feet. He kicked the air uselessly with panicked eyes as the dog spit a nasty threat an inch from his face.

Inspector Fox decided she had seen enough.

“Halt!”

Everyone froze as she finally revealed herself, shock pistol loaded and raised.

“Put him down right now and put your hands in the air,” she commanded, turning her body so that the light of the nearest street lamp caught the badge at her throat. “The three of you are all under arrest.”

The dogs blinked at her in simultaneous shock. Then the biggest one threw his head back and began to laugh, letting his hostage slip between giant fingers and land on his feet with only a small stumble.

“Like any of us are scared ‘a you, doll,” the mastiff sneered. “Don’t know why you raided the local cop station for that gun and badge, but it won’t do ya any good here. You should’ve run with the rest of the city.”

Carmelita’s lip curled in disgust. Her raised arm remained steady and focused. “I’m giving you the count of three to surrender before I shoot.”

“Try us, bitch.”

“One.”

The inspector prepared herself for a fight as the pack all began squaring their shoulders and pounding their fists in a pathetic attempt to intimidate her.

“Two.”

The safety on her pistol was clicked back as she locked eyes with the raccoon. Saw him hesitate. Saw him calculate.

Saw him make a decision.

“Three!”

He rushed forward, ducking past the startled dogs as he booked for her. The dalmatian made a grab for him and met a direct hit from Carmelita’s pistol instead. The goon went down as the other two caught up to what was happening, just in time for the kid to reach his would-be rescuer.

Instead of stopping, however, he grabbed her wrist and kept running, forcing her to stumble after him when he gunned for the nearest alley. The criminals roared behind them, far too close for comfort, so the inspector whipped her pistol around and shot the smallest dog who fell like a rock. His larger companion tripped right over him, hitting the concrete just as hard as the other two had. Satisfied, she turned back just as the raccoon veered off the street and out of sight with her in tow.

The alley held a dumpster and an opposite exit and not much else. Just as Carmelita took a step towards the other street, her rescue-e surprised her once again by scrambling up onto the dumpster and pulling her with him with his still-iron grip on her wrist.

“What are you -”

“Sh-sh-sh!” He hissed, pointing up at a low-hanging ledge on the building’s roof above them. Her eyes lit in understanding.

With a single leap she sprung up and grabbed it, pulling herself up with a grunt of effort. When she turned over to offer her hand to the raccoon, she was startled to see him scaling a water pipe as if weightless. She hauled him up the rest of the way and he slammed into her with his tail barely clearing the wall in time. They flattened themselves against the rooftop just as the dogs came running into the alley barely a second later.

“Where the hell did they go?!” Growled a voice right below them. Carmelita stopped breathing.

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” Another voice, more panicked. “We gotta find ‘em fast! If the boss finds out we lost –”

“Shut up! I know!” The leader yelled. “Go check the alleys down south. You, go east. I’ll go west. They couldn’t‘a gone far.”

Three sets of footsteps trotted off in different directions, and it was only then that Carmelita felt safe enough to exhale. She could feel the kid shaking with his arm pressed tightly against her collarbone. Neither of them dared move, just in case.

They waited ten seconds. Thirty. A minute. No one came back.

Finally, the inspector removed herself from the ground and pushed the raccoon off of her. He gave no resistance, scrambling up and away a few feet as if she might keep pushing him if he didn’t, and watched while she wiped grime off her jacket with a grimace.

“That was close,” she muttered, more to herself than to him, then met his eyes. “Thank you. That was quick thinking to hide up here.”

He was staring at her. Studying her, she realized. Sizing her up.

“You’re welcome,” he said, very softly, just when she was starting to worry that he might jump her.

Now that they weren’t fleeing for their lives, she got a better look at him. He wore a dark blue hoodie, as if unbothered by the afternoon Utah heat. Scuffed sneakers, black gloves, a red backpack, and what looked to be some kind of black cloth barely peeking out behind the front of the hoodie’s collar filled out his ensemble of looking distinctly out of place.

"Are you looking for something?" He asked flatly, snapping her out of her analysis.

"No, no. Sorry." She looked away with an embarrassed blush, then realized he had been doing the exact same thing to her and wondered why she should feel bad for it.

Squaring her shoulders, she met his gaze again. The raccoon raised an eyebrow. Then he turned on his heel and began walking away.

“Bye.”

Carmelita blinked.

“Wha - wait!” She lurched after him as her brain caught up to what was happening. “Wait, you can’t just leave! Not with those criminals looking for us!”

“Watch me,” he retorted without turning around. Upon reaching the edge of the building, he peered down at the street below in an obvious gauge for a jump.

“Would you just - listen to me for a second!” The inspector growled, panicked and aggravated. “I can’t let you go on your own after all that! Not in a city full of gangsters! Do you even have a safe place to go?”

He paused. She took it as the opening it was and continued.

“Look, all of Mesa is deserted right now. Muggshot and his thugs have overrun it. Everyone else has fled, and there’s no police station or shelter around where you can hide. Even if those three don’t find you, someone else will.”

Carmelita stopped talking only to take a breath. The kid still hadn’t turned around, but his ears were swiveled towards her. He was listening.

“I have a safe house just outside of the city in the next town over,” she said just a little softer, a little less forceful. “I could take you there for the night, you can get in touch with whoever you need to get out of the area, and then I’ll let you go.”

He finally turned from the ledge, expression dubious as he looked her up and down. “You’ll…let me go.”

“That was just a - look, you know what I meant, okay?” The inspector grimaced, then held out her hands in an unarmed invitation. “So? What do you say?”

The raccoon stared at her with that careful, studying scrutiny again. Carmelita resisted the urge to shift her weight under its potency. After a long, tense moment, he slumped just the tiniest bit and stepped away from the edge of the roof, and she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. There had never been anything in training about having a rescued hostage leaving their rescuer halfway through the actual rescue.

That was the first thing she was going to make Barkley add as soon as she got back from this crazy case.

Scanning the buildings around them, the fox tried to pinpoint which direction her car would be in relation to the street they were on. Eventually, she figured out a rough estimate and gestured for the raccoon to follow her towards another side of the building to drop down from. He did so almost as easily as she had despite his rather svelte form, and near soundlessly at that.

She wondered what his story was, that he as a civilian could do so effortlessly what took Interpol rookies months to learn.

They walked in silence at first, both alert for the slightest whiff of canine. As streets went by without hide nor hair of any of the goons on their tails, Carmelita allowed herself to relax just a little bit. Her hand still stayed on the holster of her shock pistol.

“So…” She finally said, hushed but curious. “Are you a – a local? Some kind of hostage?”

The kid eyed her, then glanced north where Muggshot’s name glowed like a bright green warning beacon on a distant building. His mouth pressed into a thin line. “Something like that.”

His voice was so, so quiet, with a hint of an accent she had noticed before but couldn't place.

“Well, I’m glad I was able to get you out of there. I’m Inspector Carmelita Fox. What’s your name?”

There was a long pause.

“…Sly.”

“Sly? That isn’t really your name, is it?”

The raccoon shrugged and didn't look at her.

“Sly. Dios mío,” she huffed, wondering if perhaps she’d misread the situation she’d stumbled upon. What kind of law-abiding citizen had a name like that? “Okay, Sly. Do - did you live close by? Maybe we can come back for more of your stuff later, when it’s safer.”

“I don’t live in Mesa,” came the unexpectedly curt reply. His gloved hand curled tight around one strap of his backpack. “And I already have all I need.”

Carmelita frowned. “I was just asking.”

“You were being nosy.”

“I was not being - that’s a good question to ask in a situation like this!”

“Uh huh. Was your next one going to be ‘what’s your exact address so I can write it down in my police report later’?”

A muscle twitched in her jaw. She hated that he had guessed right. “Forget it. I was just trying to help.”

If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he had rolled his eyes, but his face betrayed nothing at her sharp glance. The inspector blew a frustrated breath between clenched teeth and tried another peace offering. It was more for her benefit than his.

"It's just a few more blocks to my car and then we're out of here."

"You brought a cop car into the city?" Sly seemed both shocked and impressed by the stupidity.

"It's not a police cruiser," she said, irritation rising again. "I'm not dumb enough to plaster my status all over a city overrun by criminals without back-up."

"Could've fooled me, the way you were waving your badge and gun around earlier."

"It got you rescued, didn't it?"

The raccoon had nothing to say to that.

Carmelita sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Silence fell thick between them all the way back to her car.

Sly whistled at the sight of the red convertible with its hood up. "Damn. You're lucky no one's looted this side of Mesa yet, or that thing would be long gone."

"Give me a little credit, kid." The inspector unlocked the doors and swung into the driver's seat. "I staked out the movement here all morning. I know what I'm doing."

"Not a kid."

"What?" She glanced over at the raccoon, who climbed into the passenger seat with a sullen expression.

"I said I'm not a kid."

"Oh yeah? How old are you?" The skepticism dripped off every word. He didn't look a day over seventeen to her.

"Nineteen."

"Really," Carmelita said in disbelief. "Even if that's true, nineteen is still a kid."

"It's really not."

"Yes, it is!"

"Then what about you?" He challenged. "You look like you haven't even finished cop boot camp yet."

"It’s called a police academy, I graduated from it with honors, and I'm twenty-two, for your information."

Sly snorted. "Congratulations, you can buy alcohol here in America. Is that your only requirement for being an adult?"

"Legally, it is. Why, what do you consider being one? Smartassery?"

The raccoon went quiet, staring at the desolate street ahead. A long moment passed without another word from either of them. Just when Carmelita thought that was the end of the conversation, she heard him speak again. It was so soft she almost didn't catch it.

"I'm not a kid. I haven't been a kid in a long time."

She glanced over. His face was blank and his eyes were distant. Something about it sent a shiver up the fox's spine, and she pursed her lips before starting the car.

It wasn't her business, anyway.

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

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

A/N: And thus, our two polarizing forces meet. The journey truly begins.

Heaven help both of them.

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

#sly cooper #carmelita fox #fanfiction

[killed-by-choice]

Stacy Ruckman, 23 (USA 1988)

Stacy Ruckman was only 23 years old when she was killed.

It was 1988. Stacy had just been accepted for a new job, but she was pregnant. Sadly, the pro-abortion myth that women have to choose between their children’s lives and their career would soon end two more young lives.

On February 20, Stacy went to an abortion facility called Central Health Center for Women. She was 13.8 weeks pregnant. At approximately 5:00 PM, abortionist Scott Barrett began the abortion. Before beginning, he administered a massive overdose of Lidocaine. Central Health Center for Women routinely gave their clients dangerous overdoses in order to rush through abortions at a higher speed, usually 30–40 per day.

Sometime after 6:00 PM, somebody called an ambulance for Stacy. Paramedics found Stacy in full cardio-respiratory arrest with unresponsive pupils. The resuscitation attempts included suctioning “copious amounts of blood” from Stacy’s airway, inserting an endotrecheal tube, administering medications and oxygen, putting in an IV, and using a defibrillator. Stacy finally had a pulse again, but now she was exhibiting tachycardia.

Stacy was rushed to the emergency room, where she still had a racing pulse and fixed, dilated pupils. She couldn’t breathe on her own. The hospital gave her a blood transfusion of packed red blood cells and IV fluids, but her EEG soon showed that she was brain-dead.

Stacy’s parents rushed to the hospital, but it was already too late. Stacy was pronounced dead at 11:34 PM that same night.

Her parents were devastated. They hadn’t even known she’d been pregnant and now their daughter and their grandchild were beyond saving. Stacy’s mother said, “That night when we walked out of the hospital I just felt like I left part of me in there. Part of me was dead. You carry a child for nine months and something like that happens, you feel like you lost part of yourself, part of your body. And you’re never going to get it back.”

Stacy’s autopsy found toxic concentrations of Lidocaine in her blood. Her serum level, as tested in blood drawn 2 hours after the abortion, was 8.1 ug/ml, or more than five times the therapeutic level of 1.5 ug/ml. An expert who testified later estimated that, based on how fast the body metabolizes Lidocaine, the amount in her system at the time of the abortion could have been as high as 16 ug/ml, over ten times the therapeutic dose.

In order to rule out any other possible causes of death, the coroner examined ten times the normal number of specimens. He could find no evidence of “any naturally occurring disease process which could account for Ms. Ruckman’s death.” What he did find was “a grand mal seizure and cardiac arrest after a ‘therapeutic’ abortion at 13.8 weeks gestation.” Stacy also had suffered cerebral and pulmonary edema (swelling of the brain and lungs), pulmonary hemorrhage (excessive bleeding in the lungs), clotted and unclotted blood in her mouth and nose, around 55 cc of bloody fluid surrounding her lungs, and another 200 cc’s of bloody fluid in her pelvic cavity. Without a doubt, the abortion killed her.

Stacy’s parents sued. An anesthesiologist was asked under oath to give any and all possible medically valid reasons for administering that high a dose of Lidocaine; he repeatedly answered that he could think of none. The only reason he could think of — not a medically valid one — was to speed up the abortion. Scott Barrett’s own staff testified that he typically did 35-40 abortions per day at $300 each and that he routinely gave patients large overdoses of Lidocaine in order to render them unconscious. The court also found that Scott Barrett altered or falsified Stacy’s records in attempt to cover his culpability in her death.

A jury awarded Stacy’s parents $25.3 million for the wrongful death of their daughter — $330,000 in actual damages, and $25 million in aggravated damages. However, Scott Barrett carried no insurance and was not represented during the trial, mostly because he failed to even show up.

Scott Barrett had a long history of malpractice. One woman was left with $3,000 in medical bills to treat an incomplete abortion he had performed on her, and another woman had her uterus sliced in half during an abortion. Doctors who spoke to the Springfield Leader expressed frustration with the state's failure to shut Barrett down, saying that they were tired of dealing with patients whose abortions he'd botched and then left without any arrangements for aftercare. One doctor said he'd treated a woman who had bled for two months because of one of Barrett’s abortions, but when she called the “clinic” they just told her the bleeding was normal. It was also discovered that Central Health Center for Women was not actually a licensed clinic at all, but had falsely presented themselves as a medical facility.

Stacy's mother, Judith, told journalists that at least ten people had spoken to her after the malpractice case, telling of their own experiences. She said that one person even stopped her in a grocery store to talk. Three years after Stacy's death, her parents were still fighting to get Barrett's license revoked.

Even after all the people he had mistreated, killed and mutilated, Scott Barrett presented himself to the media as if he was the victim. He actually told the Springfield News Leader that the outcry over Stacy’s death was “just another tactic by the governor and the attorney general to further eliminate (abortion) providers.” He and his fake clinic were killing people and yet he tried to pretend he was the one under attack.

"Doctor negligent in three abortions, state panel says," Springfield News-Leader, March 7, 1990

"Physician's work stretches across state," Springfield News Leader, June 9, 1991

"Death, state inquiry shadow physician's practice," Springfield News-Leader, June 9, 1991

"Doctor's abortions scar patients, peers," Springfield News-Leader, June 9, 1991

"Delays, legal entanglements hold up licensing complaint," Springfield News-Leader, June 9, 1991

#tw murder #tw ab*rtion #tw abortion #tw death #abortion #pro life #pro choice #abortion debate #unsafe yet legal

[youngtambling]

15 questions for 15 mutuals

are you named after anyone? yes! i was named after my great grandmother.

when was the last time you cried? today. bad day.

Do you have kids? nah i don't plan on it either.

do you use sarcasm a lot? not my style. i prefer committing to a bit.

what sports do you play/have you played? i did shaolin kung fu in elementary and middle school!! i really want to get into it again, i felt my healthiest when i was doing that.

what’s the first thing you notice about other people? smile and nose<3

eye colour? green.

scary movies or happy endings? scary for sure. i love a happy ending but i love a devastating ending more.

any special talents? i can sing and i make a damn good playlist so long as you also love the cranberries.

where were you born? new england USA baby

what are your hobbies? guitar, singing, sims, reading ethnography, writing.

do you have any pets? one evil cat that i love So Much.

how tall are you? 5´4.

fave subject in school? history and english.

dream job? linguistic anthropologist by day, musician by night.

i'm tagging @olya-occult-lover @potionio @tricoufamily @red-simulation @myshuno-daze @drakessimblr !! absolutely no pressure

#tag game #speaks #ik that's not fifteen mutuals i apologize lol

[missbaphomet]

What would your reaction be to a pilot program confining male comedians to safe asylums until they prove they are safe to interact with women and kids? Ideally they would be able to perform under guard and psychiatric supervision, and after a period of years a panel of social workers, doctors and women from the community would assess their compatibility with society at large.

I think you and anyone who thinks something like this is ok are fucking insane <3

Like seriously what the actual fuck. I'm fucking speechless. Not only is this a violation of privacy and several human rights, but this leads to an extremely slippery slope that could be used against people with disabilities as a bludgeon to weed them from the public. If it can be done because of a profession, it can also be done to the disabled, the mentally ill, the LGBT, people who are racial minorities, political dissenters, and literally anyone else.

Further more, what's the part you take issue with? The "male" part, or the "comedian" part? I'm willing to put good money that it's the former. Newsflash, women can be predators too.

Let's not forget the male comedians who have been involved in children's media or own or support charities for children or other issues like homelessness or illness:

Robin Williams - Batty in Fern Gully, Genie in Aladdin, Teddy Roosevelt in Night At The Museum, Peter Pan in Hook, Mrs. Doubtfire in Mrs. Doubtfire, Fender in Robots, Lovelace and Ramon in Happy Feet, Alan Parrish in Jumanji, and don't even get me started on his dramatic roles such as Good Will Hunting, Good Morning Vietnam, Dead Poet's Society, etc.

The Electric Company - a cast of comedians working to boost children's literacy, including Bill Cosby (who later was revealed as a predator, but not towards children) and a then unknown Morgan Freeman

Comic Relief (BBC) - A charity telethon for children hosting many comedians

Comic Relief USA - A charity to fight homelessness in the US, also hosting comedians for events

Bob Saget - founder of Scleroderma Research Foundation after his sister died from the diesease

Jerry Seinfeld - founded and supports charities

Eddie Murphy - Donkey in Shrek and known participant in Feeding America and the Yeah! Foundation

Seth Rogen - leader of Hilarity for Charity, which supports Alzheimer's Reasearch

Ken Jeong - Recipiant of the Visionary Award and donated $50,000 after the Atlanta spa shooting

Jeff Foxworthy - works to fight homelessness in the Atlanta area and won the 2018 humanitarian award from the rotary club of buckhead. Also supports wildlife and wild space preservation

Ricky Gervais - Leader of Red Nose Day in the UK (read: Comic Relief)

Owen Wilson - coastal preservation, AIDS research, arts education, raised money for Elephant Families and Space for Giants

Tyler Perry - The Perry Foundation

Dwayne Johnson - The Rock Johnson Foundation among several other charities

Will Ferrell - UNICEF, Cancer for College, AIDS charities, charities for childhood diabetes

Jimmy Kimmel - ALS Drives, Feast of San Gennaro

Kevin Bacon - SixDegrees.com and their works

And so many fucking more but I trust my point is made

#baph bleats #asks #reader beware: misandry

[carli-meows]

One Cloud Gang Character Bios

(things might change if i feel like it myeeh)

GizMoe Quimp: Lives on Ringling Row and works at his mom's Hotdog and Roasted Banana stand. The Peacekeeper and 3rd Member of The One Cloud Gang. Has plans on moving out of the Row into a Box with Gooli.

Info: He/Him, Cloune, Grumpy and Caring, Averagely short, Curly and fluffy yellow hair with red dots in it, Circle Red nose, straight teeth, custard yellow skin, Big Bushy black eyebrows, pierced round ears, Straight Eyes, green tongue, OCG crown tattoo on left forearm, no make up, 3 pink dots on his feet and one on the palm of his left hand, size 12 shoes.

Likes: Hanging out with the homies, eating burgers and BEEF franks, Fizz Pheltz's Kiwi Seltz, Purple Clue n Glue, Gooli, DMC, Small talking Candy Carnies, Mom, belly rubs (?), cool windy days, listening to 42.7 TNJ radio, juggling, and riding his unicycle.

Dislikes: Hot days, mustard, heights, punk motherfuckers that front like they know shit, falling pianos, getting shot, banana peels, and of course, Sadness.

GooLi O'ZaeDeree: Lives in a Box somewhere in Stick's Alley alone. Works in a horror attraction in a human run carnival on Joey Lane. GatGatherer and 2nd Member of the One Cloud Gang. In her spare time, runs a 24-hour radio station.

Info: She/They, Myme, Aloof and Passionate, Tall for her age, Straight Gray hair that she combs down to stop it from curling upward, Stark White skin, Hairy, black button nose, Open Eyes, sharp and jagged slightly beige teeth, long pointy ears, Minty blue pointed tounge, Mitchmatched eyebrows, Right curvy and the Left sharp, pastel blue eyes, Clown in a heart tattoo on hip, Grey Majic Rune on back, OCG tattoo on left forearm, heavy eyelash make up, natural black circles on both cheeks, black stripes around her feet, size 9 shoes.

Likes: Gettin high with the homies, staring off at clouds, scaring people, DMC, sleeping, short people, rainy nights, biting things, getting shot at, sparring with Buckie, teasing Gizmoe Skateboarding, going on Urthe trips with Buckie.

Dislikes: Being alone, Violynn and Viola, falling safes, tall things, waiting in line, strangers, mind readers, human biology, being wet, poison, the sound of scraping steel, ghosts.

BucKie Jane Jeen: Lives on Earth in the year 2006 by choice, they work as a hitman and lives in Anywhere, USA. Not officially in any Urthe Gangs, due to their failure to comply with standards and rules given. Leader and Founder of the One Cloud Gang.

Info: They/Her, Jyezter (Clown), Playful and Loyal, 5ft and 8in tall, Curly and cotton-like rose hair, Pink skin, Wide eyes, small nose with a blue tip, white teeth, missing a tooth, jagged and winged eyebrows, pointy small ears, red finger tips, blue thumbs and toes, buff, OCG tattoo on neck, Fizz Pheltz tattoo on upper left arm, G&G tattoo on stomach, size 11 shoes.

Likes: Roaming about with the homies, a good fight, showing off, working out, Urthe Gangster Movies, DMC, the homies G'li and G'Moe, sunny days, fucking with humans, ringing around town on a pogo stick, Teasing Gizmoe, getting the highest score in golf, schooling these gigs and joaks about what good candy is.

Dislikes: depths, ice cream, oven mittens, Urthe animals, matches, slippers, falling anivils, elevators and escalators, airline food (whomp whoomp)

#One Cloud Gang #The One Cloud Gang #Clown #Mime #Cloune #Myme #Lav77 #oc bio #please look at this #Lore #Plot

[leilersworld]

HEAL ME, HELP ME, HURT ME. (Bradley Bradshaw x oc)

Chapter 1- The Backstory.

warnings- mentions of heavy drug use, mentions of su*cide, death of characters, allusions to alcohol, drinking of alcohol, descriptions of depression, mentions of throwing up, mentions of grief.

summary- leilani rodgers life has never been the easiest.. well, it’s never been the hardest but it sure as hell hasn’t been the easiest. chapter one goes through her backstory, giving you a taste of why she is the way she is. with family and backstory explained, the real story can begin. it’s time to start a new adventure, and open up new doors leilani didn’t think possible.

AN: i’ll be posting a new chapter every day:) any constructive criticism is encouraged, this is my first fic that will be public 🤍

———————————————————————————

Fighter town USA.

Formally located in Miramar, San Diego. Now residing in the far western area of Nevada.

Either way, no matter where it was located, it would always be home for a group particular people… The men and women who work in or around the navy practically lived in Fighter town, that is of course when they weren’t stationed elsewhere or traveling.

However, more than just the pilots or naval aviators, the small naval base holds so incredibly much more.

It holds families, it holds doctors, it holds pets, it holds the cashier clerks and bartenders. Despite who it may hold though, the small town always has love to spare, and a great amount of kindness to spread around.

Which is (one of) the many reasons why Leilani Rodgers loves it so much.

Growing up, she wasn’t handed much even from the earliest of ages. Her mother worked double shifts at the hospital (which is something she is now grateful for because it provided food and clean water) and her father.. well he tended to not be around much. When he was around though, it would typically be to grab some clothes or beg on his hands and knees for money he was apparently in desperate need for. Now, as a young child Leilani had tried to sympathize with her dad, and for most of her adolescence it had worked just fine. From ages five to twelve, all she could remember was feeling horrible for her father. Then she reached the fateful age of thirteen, and she was finally a teenager! She was oh so excited to finally be able to experience things on her own, manage sleepovers without having to call home to mommy because she was homesick, or go on “dates” with the cute boys at her school and finally wear her mothers lipstick and mascara.

Unfortunately though, just like a cheesy coming of age movie, where the main character finally sees past the rose colored glasses they’ve been wearing their entire life, leilani had a perspective alternation soon after becoming a new teenager.

It started with her mother sitting her down, as the tall women pulled tissues out of her pockets and rubbed her raw red nose, Leilanis brow furrowed at the sight of her mother so disheveled. She had always viewed her mother as some sort of superhero, maybe wonder women without a big gold lasso, or maybe she was just her mother who masked her emotions incredibly well and tried her absolute best to set a good example for her daughter who she desperately wanted to have a different life then she was given by leilani’s grandparents. Either way, it didn’t matter because in Leilanis eyes her mother never cried.

Then her poor old mom explained that her father was found dead, in an alleyway, after overdosing on god knows what. Well.. thats not exactly what she had said in the solemn moment between the two. Leilani will always recount the moment between her and her then best friend as tender, and very emotional. She could honestly recite it word for word if you had asked her too, also making note of how strange it is that you’re asking her to recite something so vulnerable word for word, but she would do it anyways.

It was in that moment, at the poorly lit kitchen table, with the warm Virginia air flowing in through the open window above the sink, that Leilani connected the dots, creating a perfect (but horrible) picture in her mind of who her father truly was. All the times he had begged for money, all the outbursts and tears, it was all for drugs. It was always about drugs for him, never about herself or her mother who always loved him deeply. Never about being a good person for the greater good or needing money because he was starving, it was always about the god damn drugs.

To say she was furious would be an understatement, but.. under that tough shell that shined through as anger, Leilani was also extremely discontented with herself. How the hell could she have tried to sympathize with such a horrible person. How the hell could she resent her mother for so long because of the way she perceived reality? So from that day out, Leilani promised to herself that she would

a) make things right with her mother completely, and solidify their relationship entirely.

and,

b) always see peoples true colors, and never let a snake slip through her fingers again.

And she did. For the longest time her only true friend was her mother and her stuffed animal she had kept in her possession since she was five years old. She also never, in all senses of the word never, took peoples shit. Wether it was sexism from a random individual on the street, or judgement from a close friend or family member. It was a fact of life, the same way the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, Leilani would call people out on their shit, no matter the cause (or effects) of said actions.

Of course, her fateful experiences had to run her through a mind altering perspective change once again. This time though, it was when her mother had passed away when she was twenty one years old, and quite literally had just moved away from home.

She received the call from Virginia Police Department on a Friday night, while she was sleeping peacefully in her new place in Western Nevada. If you had asked her why she chose to move to Fighter town USA, she would be able to give you an entire ten page essay on why it was the place for her. To keep conversations short and sweet though, it was truly because her mothers best friend Penny (who was also her godmother) had offered her a stable job at her bar “The hard deck” and a very stable place to live that for once in her life, wasn’t her mothers house.

She had almost turned it down, until one night her mother and herself had stayed up late finishing a bottle of rose on the patio and her mother spoke to her about how opportunities are called opportunities for a reason, and how if she were to turn this down she may never get the chance again. This then sent her mother into a spiral about how Leilani might end up living with her until she was thirty because she was willing to turn down every good opportunity just to stay in Virginia to help take care of her unfortunately very sick mother. Somehow though, after almost an entire bottle of high percentage alcohol, and her mother practically dumping her guts on the patio Leilani promised her mother she would call penny the very next day and accept the offer.

So thats exactly what she did. Penny was overjoyed to hear that her goddaughter would come stay with her and Amelia, It took a lot off her shoulders and if she was being completely transparent, Leilani was a wonderful girl that she truly couldn’t wait to have around.

So after three weeks of living in Nevada, and having the time of her life, her phone awoke her, ringing loudly at three in the morning with an unknown number from Virginia. Now usually she wouldn’t have answered it, and would recommend that nobody else answers suspicous calls like such either. However, the cards were stacked against her. On one hand she was tired as all get out, having passed out after a late shift at the hard deck merely two hours ago, not only that though but.. a number calling from her hometown at three in the morning? It had to be important.

So she groggily wiped her eyes to attempt to wipe away the sleep ridden throughout her face and slid across the bottom of her screen to accept the mysterious call.

“Hello?’ She muttered out, the sound reverberating off of her walls in her entirely dark room.

“Hello, this is the Virginia Police Department, I’m calling to speak with Leilani Rodgers”

The rest of the conversation with the kind officer had honestly been a blur to the young woman. Her eyes widening at the sound of the Police department calling her. Then, they broke the news that her mother was found dead. This time, cause of death? Suicide. Honestly Leilani thought of herself as an idiot to think her mother would have died for any other reason. Her mother was never one to take her pills without having to be reminded to do so, and Leilani wasn’t there to do that anymore. On top of that though, her father had practically killed himself with the drugs, so why wouldn’t the universe have her mother go down in the same way, right?

After the call had ended, she carried her heavy feet down the hallway to the tiny restroom, and once she entered it she flicked the light on and knelt down to wretch her entire soul into the exceptionally low toilet bowl. She was absolutely hysterical, her entire body shaking, and warm tears falling down her face as vomit spilled out of her mouth every few seconds. In no time at all Penny resided in the bathroom as well, holding her hair back and rubbing her back in a maternal manner.

Once penny had placed a warm rag on her neck as she laid on the couch downstairs she finally gained the courage to ask what made Leilani so frazzled, as she had checked her temperature and seen no apparent spike.

As Leilani spilled out the tragic words to her god mother, penny began tearing up as well. Riley, Leilanis mother had been Pennys dear friend since high school, and she was around for quite literally everything. She was around for the birth of her one and only child, she was around for the entire divorce between Riley and her once then husband, she was around for the death of her ex husband and the derailing of grief. Now, Riley wouldn’t be able to be around for any of it, and that made Penny and Leilani entirely sick to their stomachs. But, like the mother penny was, her sympathetic instincts kicked in and she was the first one to comfort Leilani through her time of grief even though she was also grieving herself.

They took it day by day, the makeshift family having many many hard days and the Hard deck ultimately shutting down for about a month as they planned the funeral and attended. The ceremony was very ethereal, just the way Riley would’ve liked it. All of her family and friends that she would’ve cared to have there, were there, Leilani and penny made sure of that fact. Then, the aftermath of the funeral was entirely too long for everybody. Leilani found herself in an endless loop of grief and depression, which she was stuck in for about three months. Which is how she found herself stuck in bed one early morning once again thinking about everything she’s ever done wrong and how much she truly did miss her best friend.

Penny had woken her up that morning and explained to her that Top gun graduates were coming to stay on base for a few months, as they had a project that needed to be done. She also had explained to her how most of the boys and girls were people she thought leilani would thoroughly enjoy being around, and practically begged her to come into the bar around 4;30 that evening to meet the group of pilots. After about five minutes of some fateful convincing from penny, leilani agreed, honestly just in hopes she would let her go back to sleep. The truth was though, she was heavily regretting the fateful decision to say yes. Through her stages of depression she had probably left the house a few times, and showered even less. if she were being honest, she simply had no motivation to do anything, and she had lost herself in a dark pit of losing her best friend, and losing herself along the way as well.

So around two in the afternoon she had hopped in the shower, turning it excruciatingly high, to get the full affect of a real shower once again. She hadn’t had one in so long, she almost forgot how nice the warm water felt running down her tense muscles, and how relaxing it felt to run shampoo and conditioner through her dirty and heavy scalp.

After she had allowed herself to bask in the feeling for about half an hour, she walked out of the humid bathroom and slumped across the hall to her room. The time was two thirty, which meant she had approximately two hours to be ready completely before she would walk the short distance to the bar down the street to fulfill Pennys request. So she spent the entire two hours making sure she looked perfect, because if she was going to allow herself to be social again, she needed to do it right. At first, she considered just throwing on some sweatpants and a tee and calling it a day, but then she realized that she would be introduced to men and women around her age who were all pilots, and what type of first impression would that be?

So after practically tearing up her entire closet, and shuffling through maybe forty outfits she decided on a pair of light wash jean shorts from Levi with a cropped black tee that fit her loosely. She paired the basic outfit with blue and white Jordans, which is something that had been her signature for a while now, a cute basic outfit with some respectable shoes really sealed the deal for her. She added some silver rings, with a blue string bracelet set and her silver and black ray bans.

After spending around an hour figuring out her outfit she then decided to loosely curl her hair, hoping maybe it would give the allusion that she hadn’t tried to look this good at all and had simply come from a beach day with her multitude of friends. Thankfully though, penny had forced her to tan with her in the backyard the day before, so she was shaved and slightly tanned which worked out entirely in her favor. Once her hair was completed she had about thirty minutes to tackle makeup, she only needed twenty. She wished she could pull off a full face of makeup, but honestly her skin just didn’t work with it. She pinned up her brows with some brow soap and colored them darker with her brow brush, continuing onto that she curled her naturally long lashes and took over five minutes to complete her mascara routine. She had always told Penny that her eyelashes were something on her face that were extremely important to her, and she always needed around ten minutes to make her lashes truly look good. Once done with those though, she threw highlighter on her nose, upper lip, cheekbones and bottom eyebrows to complete the minimal look.

Finally, she sighed as she looked in the mirror, and after five minutes of doubting herself she just shrugged her shoulders, throwing lip gloss on and placing it in her back pocket along with her id and card just in case. She made a point to stop by Amelias room on the way out to make sure she looked fine in a more modern set of eyes. As Amelia turned towards her door frame to take in the sight of her (practically) sister, her jaw dropped at the sight of Leilani all done up for the first time in months.

“What?” Leilani said as her voice was sent into panic mode, she looked down at her outfit checking for any stains or misplaced items, and when she saw nothing she began to walk the line of confusion as to why Amelias jaw was practically on the floor.

“Hello earth to Amelia! Whats wrong?” She said to try and snap Amelia out of her apparent trance. Finally, Once her jaw had finally closed she half heartedly shut the laptop that sat in front of her on her pink and white decorated bed and stood up to walk over to Leilani.

“You look really pretty lei” was all she said as she wrapped her tiny but seemingly long arms around her sisters waist. Leilani easily accepted the warm embrace from the smaller girl, and allowed her hands to wrap around her shoulders as her head barely rested on the top of Amelias.

“Thanks Mels, I really needed that right now” Leilani said in a hushed tone, as her chin still laid on the top of the brunette headed girl.

The two stayed wrapped up for a few more seconds before Amelia pulled away and ran her hands along her sisters shirt to rub out any left wrinkles. As Amelia looked up at the older girl who she simply adored, her face broke out into a ginormous smile once again.

“Go have fun sis, and please find a boyfriend I would love a brother in law any day now!” The smaller girl said before busting out into laughter, which then made Leilani bust out into giggles as well.

She threw her hands up in defeat and sighed as she began walking out of the room,

“Ill try my best alright” were the last words she spoke as she climbed down the steep stairs and walked out of the door.

Maybe today was the day that Leilani would learn how to be herself again, maybe today would start the journey that would teach Leilani how to love someone that wasn’t Penny or Amelia again. She just hoped it wouldn’t end in a panic attack or creating a pool of her own tears in her bed, but hey, that was solely up to fate. For once, She would let fate play its cards however it wanted too.

#bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x oc #rooster top gun #top gun fandom #fanfic #lei writes #first fanfic #hope you enjoy!!

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The Professor Utonium/Samurai Jack/The Great Papyrus Theory

Professor Utonium's Skeleton Looks Like Papyrus, if you pause on the part in the Birthday Bash episode...and really look at Professor Utonium's skeleton, it does look a little like Papyrus.  

I mean there is that whole Professor Utonium and Samurai Jack looking a like, but it might just be the shape of their heads and maybe their noses.

but it might be possible that if you use a X-Ray on Samurai Jack, his skeleton would look a little like Papyrus as well.

okay I can't be the only one who notice that Professor Utonium's skeleton kind of looks a little like Papyrus, of course Undertale and Deltarune weren't "born" yet during when that episode came on.

and well it's good that the Powerpuff Girls are on DVD, just wish I could find a SVTFOE DVD of the whole seasons, and be able to finally get a USA version of Red Vs Blue Season 15 without it being in a bid only,

and I really doubt they are going to just restock it on Amazon anytime soon, and there is another way to watch that season, from Youtube to Rooster Teeth site.

you know it be interesting if Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup did mistake Papyrus for being the Professor, like taking one look at his skeleton and they might think Mojo Jojo had a hand in it.....but like if you put Papyrus in a Lab Coat, it could add to the cause of Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup to mistake him for Professor.

maybe it would be just me who will think that Professor Utonium's Skeleton looks a little like Papyrus.

I mean there is that whole Sans and Steven Quartz Universe thing, why not a Professor Utonium and Papyrus....one of the differences being that it wouldn't be like with the whole Steven's full name having "Sans" hidden in it,

and I guess it is weird that I think that Professor Utonium's Skeleton looks a little like Sans's Brother, but for all we know, maybe Papyrus could be like the reincarnation of Professor Utonium.

or Papyrus could be Professor Utonium's descendant the same way Utonium can be Samurai Jack's descendant.

it might be really weird, but I couldn’t help but think that Professor Utonium’s skeleton looks a little like Papyrus when I watched that episode a few days ago.

and maybe some fans would think the same way if they pause at the part where the girls are using their X-Ray powers and it ends up showing Utonium’s skeleton.

if Utonium, Jack and Papyrus switched clothes....

Utonium should get Papyrus’s clothes,

Jack should get Utonium’s clothes

and Papyrus should get Samurai Jack’s clothes.

the memes that could happen with those three....O_O

and if those three were in the same room, and Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup never met Jack before...

it be funny if Bubbles spoke up by saying “I didn’t know we had three dads...?”

I think Bubbles might be the middle child, and Buttercup is the youngest.

even if how Bubbles acts she might be seen as the youngest, but I think she might be the middle child.

maybe I wouldn’t be the only one who notice that Utonium’s skeleton looks a little like Papyrus, or maybe I would be the only one who views it like that, and that’s fine if I might be the only who thinks that his skeleton looks like Papyrus.

but what if in theory, there is some connection between Papyrus and Utonium...?

well if Papyrus is mistaken by Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup for their Dad,

then that would give Sans a reason to come up with some Uncle Jokes.

 Utonium might not be able to get his daughters back if Mettaton wants to adopt them. XD

 but what if in Fanon, those three: Samurai Jack, Professor Utonium and Papyrus were connected...?

there is the whole fans believing there is a connection between Samurai Jack and Professor Utonium, so why not add Papyrus into the mix...?

Professor Utonium could be Papyrus’s Ancestor, like it turning out that Professor created a clone of himself, but it didn’t turn out how he wanted because of some unknown residue (Magic Residue) and Chemical X fell into the cloning machine and made his clone look like a skeleton.

so he threw the clone into mount ebott.

 I mean the Steven Universe’s Universe could take place in the same universe as the Rising Of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles & one of the DC Universes for all we know.

and if it did, in some timeline, Ivy and Harley would be like the adoptive mothers of a Baby Steven.

and with Steven being able to heal the Earth, from the Flora to Grass with just kisses....I think Ivy would want to adopt him in a heartbeat.

like if he started having those powers in a early age, and if both Ivy and Harley found him, and witness him giving a kiss to a flower that had been hurt...

I think Ivy would be holding him and saying “this is my baby now.”

or like calling “Dibs” and saying that he is her baby now.

and if one of Harley’s hyenas got killed by Batman, and Steven cries on them and they turn Pink and come back to life, that would even give Harley a reason to call dibs on him being her baby as well.

that would be a interesting Crossover AU.

same with a Crossover AU of there being a connection between Papyrus, Utonium and Jack....

canon or not, Utonium’s skeleton just looked a little like Papyrus to me.

and it’s fine that I am the only one who thinks that his skeleton looked like Papyrus....it might not be very much, but only just a little bit.

 plus the chances of other fans thinking or feeling the same way about the whole Utonium and Papyrus thing, are perhaps very small...

and it’s okay if it turns out only a few end up viewing them in a fanon way, of having some kind of connection.

it can be just a fun theory that might be very popular as most theories, and I’m fine if this weird theory and view that pop into my head about Papyrus and Utonium doesn’t end up becoming very famous or notice very much.

I mean I like the theory that there could be some connection between those three, but it’s okay if some only stick with just the whole Samurai Jack and Professor Utonium theory.                   

#samurai jack theory #undertale theory #the powerpuff girls theory #professor utonium #samurai jack #the great papyrus #crossover theory

[hits1000]

Greatest Hits of 1950 | Top Music Hits 1950 | Songs of 1950 [1950s Hits]

Greatest Hits of 1950 | Top Music Hits 1950 | Songs of 1950 [1950s Hits] 00:00 Introduction 00:12 English 05:41 French 06:32 German 07:32 Italian 08:32 Portuguese 09:26 Spanish Greatest Hits of 1950 including: Anton Karas - The Third Man, Billy Eckstine - My Foolish Heart, Bing Crosby - Dear Hearts and Gentle People, Bing Crosby - Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer, Doris Day – Bewitched, Eileen Barton - If I Knew You Were Coming (I'd've Baked a Cake), Ernie Ford & Kay Starr - I'll Never Be Free, Eve Young - Silver Dollar, Frankie Laine - The Cry of the Wild Goose and many more! Subscribe to our channel to see more of our content! Related Searches: Greatest Hits of 1950, Best Jukebox 1950 Playlist, Late 1950 Non Stop , Top 1950 Non Stop, Mix 1950 Compilation, Best 1950 List, Late 1950 UK, Best 1950 Playlist, Best 1950 Non Stop, Best 1950 Video, Greatest 1950 Non Stop, Mix 1950 Playlist, Best Jukebox 1950 List, List of 1950 Mix, Top 1950 USA, Best Songs of 1950, Top Music 1950, Hits of 1950 Related Channels: K-Music, Ultra Lists, Younger days, Music Hits, DJ Crayfish, Redlist, Music Express, Some Random Guy, Francis Pelletier, MarioMex International Mixes, Top Culture, Related Videos: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R1zM5WF1NF0 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5qmoZ9W8kQg 1. Anton Karas - The Third Man 2. Billy Eckstine - My Foolish Heart 3. Bing Crosby - Dear Hearts and Gentle People 4. Bing Crosby - Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer 5. Doris Day - Bewitched 6. Eileen Barton - If I Knew You Were Coming (I'd've Baked a Cake) 7. Ernie Ford & Kay Starr - I'll Never Be Free 8. Eve Young - Silver Dollar 9. Frankie Laine - The Cry of the Wild Goose 10. Gary Crosby & Bing Crosby - Play A Simple Melody 11. Gary Crosby & Bing Crosby - Sam's Song 12. Gordon Jenkins & His Orchestra - Bewitched 13. Gordon Jenkins & His Orchestra - My Foolish Heart 14. Guy Lombardo - The Third Man 15. Hardrock Gunter - Birmingham Bounce 16. Kay Starr - Bonaparte's Retreat 17. Nat King Cole - Mona Lisa 18. Patti Page - All My Love 19. Patti Page - Tennessee Waltz 20. Perry Como - Hoop-Dee-Doo 21. Phil Harris - The Thing 22. Piano Red - Rockin' With Red 23. Red Foley - Chattanooga Shoe Shine Boy 24. Sammy Kaye - Harbor Lights 25. Sammy Kaye & Don Cornell - It Isn't Fair 26. Steve Conway - My Foolish Heart 27. Teresa Brewer - Music Music Music 28. The Ames Brothers - Can Anyone Explain (No, No, No!) 29. The Ames Brothers - Rag Mop 30. The Ames Brothers - Sentimental Me 31. The Andrews Sisters - I can dream, can't I? 32. The Andrews Sisters - I wanna be loved 33. The Cap-Tans - I'm So Crazy For Love 34. The Weavers and Gordon Jenkins - Goodnight, Irene 35. The Weavers and Gordon Jenkins - Tzena Tzena Tzena 36. Tony Martin - There's No Tomorrow 37. Wynonie Harris - Rock Mr. Blues 38. André Claveau - Cerisier rose et pommier blanc 39. Charles Trenet - Douce France 40. Edith Piaf - Hymne à l'amour 41. Éliane Embrun - Mam'zelle Dimanche 42. Félix Leclerc - Le p'tit bonheur 43. Pierre Malar - Je t'aimerai 44. Anneliese Rothenberger & Detlev Lais - La Le Lu 45. Hans Albers - Nimm mich mit, Kapitän, auf die Reise 46. Rene Carol - Buona Notte, Angelo Mio 47. Rita Paul - Das ist nichts für kleine Mädchen 48. Rudi Schuricke - Florentinische Nächte 49. Vico Torriani - Santa Lucia 50. Carla Boni - Il mago Baku 51. Giorgio Consolini - Forse domani 52. Nilla Pizzi - Che bel fiulin 53. Roberto Murolo - Me so' 'mbriacato 'e sole 54. Sergio Bruni - Surriento d'e 'nnammurate 55. Tito Schipa - Anema E Core 56. Carmélia Alves - Trepa no Coqueiro 57. Dalva de Oliveira - Olhos Verdes 58. Deolinda Rodrigues - Fado da saudade 59. Isaura Garcia & Hervê Cordovil - Pé de manacá 60. Ismael Silva - Antonico 61. Luiz Gonzaga - Assum Preto 62. Celia Gámez - Estudiantina Portuguesa 63. Elvira Ríos - Frenesí y Perfidia 64. Jorge Negrete - México Lindo y Querido 65. Juanito Valderrama - El emigrante 66. Pérez Prado & His Orchestra - Mambo No. 5 67. Xavier Cugat & His Orchestra - Tico Tico Relate Hashtags: #listof1950mix #hits1950 #bestsongs1950 #classic1950playlist #greatest1950nonstop #best1950list #best1950video #top1950mix #greatest1950video #mix1950playlist #top1950nonstop #mix1950compilation https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lU-5LIaU500

#80S Greatest Hits #Songs Of 1980S #Old Songs #80S Songs #80S Music Hits #80S Hits #80S Songs Playlist #Grea