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clarks-letterman · 5 months

Note

Even though Ryan didn't get a whole lot to do, he was REALLY doing it for me with his obvious displays of interest, so Ryan x Male Reader request where both are preparing for the Thanksgiving parade, he's expressed being attracted to the reader in the past, & has been heavily flirting while in the pilgrim costume with lots of holiday appropriate innuendos. When everybody else clears out, it leads to him fulfilling his promise of "stuffing" the reader.

sososo good omfg

a/n — brought to you by slotslights! would've been posted sooner if finals and holidays didn't exist ayyyy ... little late for the holiday im so sorry

summary — check the ask!

warnings — standard smut, jokefic cause this movie is unserious, spit as lube and this was rushed sorry!

words — 2.4k

~~~

You stood on top of a small, obviously fake ship. It was comical in design and size, being barely enough to fit you, let alone two people on it. There’s some kind of block—a wooden crate, you think—at the very back of the narrow space to stand. The ship was a bit taller than the rest of the floats, overlooking the living cornucopia of little kids painted to be greens and sweet fruits to your left, the dinner table with some townsfolk in pilgrim costumes sitting around it to your right, and your ship was spearheading the order precisely in the middle. Their costumes only reminded you how itchy yours was, being composed of spandex and knit cotton that caused the perfect combination of skin-hugging discomfort.

Behind all three was the large inflatable turkey, inconsistently staring at people as it bobbed and billowed. On the opposite end of things, in front of your float, were the marchers and mascot of the holiday. You envied him the most, as he stood out past the large opening in the building that housed the whole show with a thick, full-body costume on. He had to be as warm as being in a literal oven.

The organizers handed you two mic-packs with an earpiece for each rectangular receiver right before you boarded the ship, except it was just you on the deck. You started securing the receiver to your hip. Footsteps scaling up the warehouse stepladder drew your attention, and shortly after, the mock-Mayflower shifted a bit on its stand to make room for another voyager.

You turned, immediately recognizing the man under the Pilgrim hat. “And the king of putting his arm around people’s shoulders returns!”

“I said I was sorry.” He rolled his eyes, acting as if his blunt advances last week should be forgotten about.

“Don’t, Ryan.” Your cheap costume wouldn’t be the only pain in the ass on this boat. Unfortunately, they had already wheeled the mobile staircase that was your only escape away, making the only viable option to wait and ride this out at about three miles per hour.

If there was one thing about Ryan, that felt like it defined him entirely, was how forward he expressed himself to be. “Come on, stop playing cold turkey. I know you’re addicted to me.”

“Here.” He wore an identical costume that you got to eye up and down when you had to begrudgingly hand him his ticket aboard. His rite of passage to be putting-his-arm-over-your-shoulder-length away from you.

Ryan took it from your hands, a smirk on his face with his bottom lip jutting out in confidence. “Someone’s defrosting.”

The fleeting moment got away from your hands like a bird that could fly, unfortunate for the turkey that took its place. The revving of engines signaled that the parade was about to start. A messy collaboration of trumpeters, drummers, and every kind of walking noisemaker started to play in united dissonance. They marched, heading straight down the road. It only took a moment for your float and the ones on either side of it to start their slow roll out into the daylight.

The sidewalks were occupied with people and striped barriers made out of wood lined the street, separating the modern from the old. Old might not have been the right word to describe it—defunct, maybe? Something that was a dead mode of transportation and classified as primordial for a reason, because, as soon as the ship had to hold its own on the tail of a pickup truck, it was shaking and rocking against the bumpy main road. Even a small pothole rocked the ship, sending you stumbling towards Ryan. He held on to you, making sure you were on your feet. He looked back to the wooden crate, moving towards it as you pulled away from him. He sat down on it and extended his hand.

“Seriously?” You scoffed, occupying your hands with the divots of your elbows as you crossed your arms.

“Just swallow whatever mouthful of pride you have and sit with me. This thing is held together by tape and staples and a dream.” His eyes pleaded with the words he knew he couldn’t say.

Falling off this ship might not be lethal, but it sure is embarrassing. So is being in the arms of someone who so obviously wanted you, but at least one of these wouldn’t lead to a hospital visit… you think. Ryan was painfully right, you had to stomach your pride like a dish a family member got you to try that tasted like utter trash. From the slow roll of your parade float to the pace of your steps, it was like you were acting in slow motion. Thankfully, the crowd had the modern mindset that meant you could get a little historically inaccurate in costume. You placed yourself on the upper part of his thigh, legs pouring down into the space between his—indiscernible from the black cloth coating his legs down to his ankles as it covered yours, too.

You scratched at your neck, peeling a bit of the white ruff clawing at your neck away for a few seconds. Momentarily, you could breathe. In that breath taken, you spoke to Ryan, “I need this off me.”

“You don’t need to tell me.” His eyes lingered on the bare spot on your neck, ready to dive in if it weren’t for the lack of privacy. When the public was staring at you, he came in closer. Whispering, “Just a few more blocks, then you’re mine. I’ll tear this off you, yeah?”

“Like the skin on a turkey.” Your patience was like a meat timer that had popped. Your skin felt hot, and you needed this costume off as soon as possible. Ready to escape the open air and go somewhere more private, confined with an excuse to be pressed up to Ryan.

He never left your side, keeping his closeness while you were leaning into his hold. One arm running over both your shoulders was enough to send shivers down your whole back. His other hand waved so that it looked more natural like two optimistic travelers were on their way to discover already-found land. But when the hell were museums about American holidays rightfully celebrated the way they were meant to be? He added in his closeness, “And I’ll stuff you like one, too.”

The old firehouse in Plymouth was where the floats would go after everyone screamed their lungs out and waved their hands into the sky since it was big enough to store several of the old firetrucks that had all been moved downtown. It was a slow ride to your final destination.

As each display of the town’s affection for the holiday pulled into the makeshift warehouse and parked, the worst part proved itself to be how slowly everyone filed out of the depot. There was an agonizing wait for the required assistance down from the float, meaning that you had to stay closer to Ryan longer, the attraction between you the both of you growing stronger each second.

When you did have to leave him, you almost missed his warmth and hands. Almost, because he was back on you in seconds of your feet hitting the smooth concrete in the firehouse. Pitter-pattering was heard as your buckled shoes tapped away from everyone and up the stairs to the second floor, being led to the spot by a knowledgeable Ryan. The second floor was an open area, helmed by a kitchen as you reached the top step. It was arguably only slightly more private than the parade float you were standing on moments ago, but the shuttling of the bay doors downstairs let you know that no one who belonged there would come up to see Ryan feasting on you. Sure, you and Ryan had no business wandering away from the organizers, but two heads leaving their sight wouldn’t do much now that the parade was over.

He had you backed against the dusty counter in seconds, lips to yours, and grabbing what he could through the cheap costume. You two ditched the hats on accident, knocking them off in your attempts to pull one another closer with your holdings. It seemed to be a large kitchen island of sorts, from what you saw before Ryan pulled your attention away, now cluttered with taped-up boxes and a thick layer of dust that was wiped away by you leaning against it. There was a stove on the opposite side of where you and Ryan were cooking with your own heat. Ryan made sure that people would know of your presence by lifting you up on the counter.

“I’m gonna explode if I don’t undo my pants, fuck.” Ryan complained, breaking away from you like a wishbone—his dream coming true as he had you at his mercy. He had done the hunting, the alluring, and now, he was ready to claim you.

“Can that drumstick even fit on my plate?” You asked when he dropped his pants and let them bunch at his ankles. The black fabric of his suit must have hidden what he was packing. “Looks a little too big for me. Maybe you should just butter stuff up instead of trying to fit that in?”

“Trust me, I’ll make it fit.” Ryan tugged on himself a few times before grabbing you by the hips. He slid you towards him. “Lean back, pumpkin pie.”

“You’re so funny,” you feigned a laugh and leaned back on the cold countertop. Ryan pushed your legs up so that you got the message to keep your knees tucked into your chest, giving him an easy entrance to your ass after he undid your pants just enough to see it clearly.

You didn’t have to hear him spitting in his hand to know that he was lubing up your hole with a quick solution. Wet, warm saliva was spread over your entrance and his fingers lightly dipped in with a tasteful slip of his fingers into your tightness. Not all of it went to preparing you for his massive girth, though. The hand he didn’t use to tease you was slicking up his cock with his own spit, a remark flying out of his mouth as he welled up another wad of spit in his mouth. “I don’t usually master-baste like this but…”

“Shut up…” You said softly, too inebriated by the feeling of Ryan’s hand playing with you. The only thing that could send you out of this comatose state of pleasure was the pain of him stretching you out.

“Oh, fuck.” He moaned, feeling his tip be fought against by the constricting feeling of you constantly wrapped around him. His pleasure heightened knowing that he had effectively dominated you after you let him do this following his many, many advances.

Ryan delved further, exploring your cavity in its entirety. He loved how he constantly felt the tightness around any part of his cock at any given moment, yet he was still being gripped by the rest of your insides—though, it was much softer, like a gentle hand tugging on him without any part of him left untouched. You liked it, too. For as much as it hurt, stretching you out beyond what you felt you could take, there was still this feeling of letting him hurt you in a way that caused pleasure.

Ryan eventually bottomed out, pulling all the way out to regain that feeling of tightness along his entire cock. But, he noticed that you were gaping for him, your muscles relaxing for him like they wanted to welcome him back in. He let his cock sink back in, fucking you properly after getting to know the space he was dealing with and being accustomed to the pleasure.

It was almost ironic that last week, you wouldn’t have touched him with a ten-foot pole. But now, you wanted him inside. You needed him, like an addiction. His humor, his charm, and most importantly, his high-quality assets that he was more than happy to whore out to you. You figured that you should add his knowledge onto there, too, because he was handling himself like a champ. While he was losing his composure, his thrusts growing sloppier each time he forced all of himself into you, he kept up the pace like he was mashing potatoes—or, churning thick, creamy butter with each pump. And look, he was doing it with no hands! Well, excluding the ones he kept on your legs to keep you from sliding back or having your legs get too tired. He was still considerate, even when fulfilling his selfish desires.

That’s why he slid one of his hands down your thigh and past your pants, reaching into the small window formed by the stretching of the fabric between your legs and your ass. His hand went straight for your cock, playing with it as his thrusts shook your whole body. He wanted you to feel all of the euphoria entangled with pain that he experienced at that moment, his shaft feeling suffocated by your entrance, only to have wide walls to fuck and tug his dick along on the inside.

His hand was calloused and cracked from the cold weather, but he still felt good on your sensitive skin. Little maneuvers like rubbing his thumb over the head of your dick and keeping his grip tight when he moved his hand along your length sent you spiraling. Grunts and moans filled the air like the wafting scent of a momentous dinner being laid out on the table. The sight of you alone, but mixed with Ryan’s primal energy made this feel more fulfilling than any food could.

Eventually, you announced that you were on the verge of coming, but it probably sounded a lot less clear in your head. Ryan was still jerking you off but stopped as felt sticky white spray over his fingers and he watched it cover the stomach of your cheap costume. As he saw you unfold, he finally came, leaving you with a mix of creamy white and meaty stuffing still filling you up. You enjoyed how full he made you feel a little too much, missing it as he pulled out with a softening cock coated in his own release. Some of it hit the floor as he was still leaking out the last bits of it. Your hole could barely contain his homemade stuffing.

You sat up, catching your breath. “I need two things from you. Some paper towels, and an invite to your family’s Thanksgiving dinner.”

#fanfic #x male reader #x reader #gay #fanfiction #ryan thanksgiving #milo manheim x male reader #milo manheim #milo manheim x reader #thanksgiving x reader #Ryan x reader #wally clark #milo manheim x male!reader #milo mayhem fanfic #x male!reader #male reader smut #horror movie fic #thanksgiving movie #thanksgiving 2023

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rainbowsky · 5 months

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Anonymous asked: Serious question - Does this type of public fan behaviour not land the boys in troubles? [link redacted] Funny question - what will be DD’s reaction if he sees this bus? Will he feel shy or happily take pic and send to GG?

Hi Anon! ☺️

Fake, fan fiction, CPN.

Anon is talking about the bus and taxi that BXG had wrapped in GGDD graphics for the Tencent event last night.

This is something BXG do whenever there's a big event like this, especially ones there's a chance they'll both attend (these types of things are planned well in advance, long before BXG would know for sure whether GG would be attending).

One bus and a taxi is actually pretty low-key compared to some of the things BXG have done in the past. It's not unusual for them to do multiple buses, digital billboards, etc. and they even lit up the entire exterior of the arena with BXG graphics/slogans for Weibo Night a couple years ago.

Solos love to make it seem like turtles behavior is risky or dangerous, but I find that notion totally ridiculous. These are fan materials and all in good fun. Bystanders will immediately recognize it as such, and are unlikely to take it too seriously or get offended.

At the end of the day, GG and DD are the only ones with any power to put a stop to these things and they haven't, so I think that says everything we need to know. I've talked about that a bit in the past.

So, Anon, not to worry.

As for GG and DD's reaction to things like this, there has been some discussion of that in LRLG rumors in the past. I'm especially thinking of the light banners at Tencent 2020. You can read more about that event here.

Fake rumors are fake rumors, but I think it's a pretty safe bet that they and their teams find these things amusing and heart-warming. There are plenty of examples but here are just a few:

Back during DDU they filmed a segment where DD was driving with the other DDU brothers in the car. DD was driving by a group of BXG and honked at them (some were clowning that the pattern of his honking sounded like BJYXSZD because he was doing 7 fast honks, taking a pause and then 7 again).

One year for DD's birthday BXG hired a digital billboard truck to drive around the Hunan TV building all day (where DD was filming DDU). The truck was decked out in BXG graphics and with a loudspeaker blaring GG's voice from the BTS yelling "HAPPY BIRTHDAY WANG YIBO", and there were fan repos of DD, the other hosts and Hunan TV employees laughing and taking pictures.

GG was seen smiling at BXG balloons during his visit to Milan.

When DD was in LA his car was driving by a group of BXG who were standing on the streetcorner holding balloons and chanting BJYXSZD, and DD's assistant was filmed laughing and taking photos/video from inside the car.

There are countless examples of GG and DD appearing to look at and react to BJYX light banners and headbands.

I'm sure there are many more examples I could add, but you get the general idea. I think it only makes sense that GG and DD would find these things mostly cute, and appreciate the support.

Thread about GGDD and the supertopics. Original post here.

What turtles might mean to GGDD

Do you think they're aware of how fans interpret things?

Do you think GG and DD enjoy BXG fan works?

Can I also add that I found this light banner from last night's event especially hilarious:

#bjyx #yizhan #ggdd in the public eye #bxg ggdd #ask

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missmeinyourbones · 1 year

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Oooo if I'm still on time to send a tiny request I'd like to go for levi + fake relationship trope!! 💕

…

"please?"

"no."

you shoot levi a frown, one that’s supposed to make him feel bad, but based on your roommate’s unwavering glare, you’d say it’s unsuccessful.

he returns his focus to scrubbing the glass in his hand, but you’re at his shoulder before he can fully ignore you.

"look, i'm desperate," you plead.

levi lets out a dry laugh that holds anything but humor, "clearly, rude, and still no."

you huff and cross your arms in defense. all you’re asking is for is levi to pretend to be your boyfriend for one little night. your mother throws an annual dinner party during your monthly phone call, you’d panicked and told her you would be bringing a special someone this year.

it’s just to get her off my back, is what you told both yourself and levi, but the nausea in your stomach says otherwise.

"you don't even have to do anything,” you continue to argue. “just be tolerable and maybe hold my hand once or twice."

levi’s eyebrows raise in interest.

"oh, well when you put it that way,” he watches you perk up in excitement before ripping the bandaid off and returning to his blasé tone, “absolutely not."

"oh come on,” you obnoxiously groan. “i'm not that bad, am i?"

levi slows his movements as he grabs another dirty plate from the sink and begins to scrub calculated circles onto the glass.

in defeated silence, you grab the towel next to him and pluck the plate from his hands, drying it off and setting it aside with the other clean dinnerware.

the two of you get into a familiar pattern of washing and drying. and after a moment of stillness, levi speaks up.

"it's not you."

the faucet drips onto the soaking plates below and your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"what is it, then?"

he sits on his answer for a moment before clearing his throat with a cough. "i'm not familiar with fake boyfriend etiquette," he claims.

you turn to face him, "levi, there's no such thing as fake boyfriend etiquette."

he ignores you and you place the towel back down onto the counter in frustration.

"come on, just for one night," you’re begging at this point, "and next month when my mom calls, i can say we broke up the next day."

a sour taste floods levi’s mouth at the thought of him meeting your mother under such tasteless conditions.

sure, he’d love to attend your family party with you, but not as your pretend boyfriend—as your roommate, then as your friend, and then maybe as your real boyfriend. what’s so hard about that?

"y'know, it'd be nice if i got to meet your mother and she didn't hate me for the rest of my life," he scoffs at the makeshift plan you seemed to have on deck.

you quietly laugh a bit at his dramatics before grabbing the soaked pan from his hand and setting it back down in the sink.

"don't you mean the rest of her life?" you tease.

"no," he retorts, "because at the rate this is going, i'll be dead from high blood pressure in a month, at most."

you shoot him a knowing look and he rolls his eyes in response.

his stomach churns when you lower your voice one final time, sincerity overflowing from your sweet request, "please?"

levi knows he’s going to agree eventually. hell, he knew he’d be going to this party as your fake boyfriend whether he wanted to or not the very moment you popped the question with a slight pout.

because he’d do anything you asked of him, including tasks far more advanced than whatever your roommate agreement laid out. so when you grab his wrist and look up at him with pleading eyes, he’s already planning which suit to wear to your mother’s house.

"fine."

#hiiiiii v thank you for requesting this!!!!#i feel like i haven’t written for aot in so long ???#but i shall always make an exception for you #and this reminded me that writing levi always has a special place in my heart <3 #levi x you #levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi fic #levi ackerman fic #levi fluff #levi ackerman fluff

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pfenniged · 8 months

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How Band of Brothers Characters Would Act in a Fake Boyfriend Scenario to Deflect Unwanted Advances Towards You:

Dick Winters: Immediately clarifies, "We're not dating" when you loudly proclaim him as your boyfriend, only to immediately correct that you two are engaged and he's looking for a ring when he's hit by a death glare that he should play along.

Lewis Nixon: Smugness abounds. If it was a scenario of you just being unwantedly hit on by some rando at a party or a bar (I.E: Not an immediate threat), he would stretch that shit out to annoyingly comedic level. "HOW DID WE MEET HONEY?" "AND THEN SHE WALKED IN ON ME AND COULDN'T TAKE HER EYES OFF ME-" "YOU KNOW SHE BEGGED ME TO GO OUT WITH HER-", to the point where if he pushes it any further he's risking blowing your cover. An under-the-table kick could be involved. Finally, he'd settle into the role of being your boyfriend rather TOO well, complete with arm extended over the back of the booth you were sitting in and smugly smirking at anyone who passed, taking full advantage of pulling you closer and passing it off as needing to make things "believable."

Ronald Spiers: Would not even bother to "play along" with you dating. Would simply step forward, eyes somewhere between dead and deathly, and say in a deadly cold voice, "They're with me." He would not move until they left the bar or the room, no matter how uncomfortable it was for everyone else involved.

Joseph Liebgott: Depending on how serious the infraction was (I.E: Unwanted comments to a full fledge inappropriate touch), things can get ugly fast, depending on how much alcohol is involved. Even with little to no alcohol in his system, Joe would start off joking and acting like he couldn't believe it, before using the element of surprise to either kick the guy's legs out from under him, or full out deck him, all while people are trying to pull him off. This would probably unintentionally lead him to admitting his feelings for you- or at least, his overreaction leading to a complete and utter razzing about the two of you anytime you were in the same space together.

Donald Malarkey: With one, "We're dating? Oh! Yeah- we're dating!"- Malarkey launches into an entire backstory about how you started dating on the spot- from the fact that one day he saw you didn't have an umbrella, to him wanting to get one for you, to anything else that he felt sold the fact that he knew everything there was to know about you ("She sleeps with her socks on 'cause her feet get cold, and she likes chamomile tea- what else is there to know?").

Carwood Lipton: You would have to be the one to initiate the ruse, as Carwood's too much of a gentleman to assume anything. As soon as you put an arm around him, however, he'd look at you squarely as if to clarify, "You need me to do this for you?"- before slowly and carefully pulling your arm and hand back to kiss it lightly and squeeze it pointedly. He'd stay by your side protectively for the rest of the night.

Shifty Powers: Please. If this man had to play act as your boyfriend, your cover would be blown as soon as you can say "Jack Robertson." If you initiated any bodily contact without explaining why, he'd turn bright red and start stammering, look down, and not be able to get out a full sentence. If it was a scenario where you took him to the side and was able to explain that you needed him to act like your boyfriend, he'd take your arm and act like he was escorting you to Sunday church- full of reverence and respect. It'd be to the point where you'd have to tell him to ease up and relax.

Floyd Talbert: Chuckles about the suggestion he'd be your boyfriend, pretending to laugh it off, before raising both brows and looking at you at your proposal. "You're serious?"- followed by a stupid grin plastered across his face all night. Dancing with you and loudly introducing himself as your "BoYFrIeNd" follows, until someone spills that he's had a massive crush on you the entire time you've known each other, and played off his own feelings by dating others to make you "jealous."

Bill Guarnere: He'd also be a teaser- until he realized some guy was hitting on you. He'd be up across the bar in two seconds, holding the guy against the wall and asking why he was looking at "his girl." The rest of the night, he'd be touching you in some way- arm around your shoulders, hip, hand- but basically acting as a buffer from anyone who'd even dare come close to you. Some guy tries again? Bill ain't gonna ask twice.

Babe Heffron: He'd stupidly beam until he realizes he was part of a ploy- then he'd be angry half the night for being "used," only to step in when you really need him to, complete with a big showy kiss for the entire place to see. You two start dating soon afterwards.

George Luz: Immediately starts singing the first song that's playing on the loudspeakers to you, especially if it's a love song. Makes the most obnoxious declaration of love that it ALMOST makes you embarrassed, if you weren't so (secretly) delighted.

#personal #hbo war #band of brothers #this was fun

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obsessedasusual · 2 years

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Saviour - Jake “Hangman” Seresin

xReader

Summary: Someone won’t take a hint and need a fake boyfriend to ward them off? Hangman’s got you covered.

Warnings: alcohol, unwanted advancements (nothing major - just a douchebag), swearing.

Note: 2.6k - AHHHH I started drafting this after I saw TGM a couple of weeks ago and I finally got it all out of my head and into a doc. As per all my fics, it’s self indulgent and I have no regrets. My first TGM fic!! Let’s goooo!

“I need a drink!” you called over the music. Your friends were one too many drinks deep to properly understand what you were saying but nodded at you anyway, grabbing each other's hands and jumping up and down out of time with the song, dancing apparently.

You couldn’t help but laugh at how uncoordinated they were in their drunken state as you turned to head back to the bar, weaving through the sea of dancing bodies.

Finally making it to the bar you waited patiently for Penny to get to you, taking the chance to observe your surroundings. For whatever reason, The Hard Deck was extra busy tonight. There were the local-regulars, the Navy aviator-regulars, curious beach-goers wanting to catch a glimpse of said aviators, and if the matching tuxedo print t-shirts were anything to go by - a bachelor party.

“God, sorry about that,” Penny’s voice broke your train of thought, “another coke and raspberry?”

You grinned in confirmation, “No rush! Serve those guys first. Just when you get a sec, Pen.”

It was your turn to be the sober driver of your friend group which honestly, you had no issue with. Sometimes it was fun just to stand back and watch your friends go wild. The lack of a hangover the next day was just a nice bonus.

Your attention was pulled back to the bar as Penny placed your drink in front of you, “Anything else?”

“I’m good. Thanks, Pen,” you handed over your card to pay, “Any idea why it’s so busy tonight?”

She huffed out a laugh and shrugged a shoulder, “Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe people enjoyed that show on the beach earlier.”

You shot a puzzled look her way, “What show?”

“You missed a good one, hon. Bunch of pilots playing football on the beach. The onlookers were very pleased.”

“Were you one of those onlookers by any chance?” She rolled her eyes at your smirk and handed your card back.

“Shut up and drink your drink.”

Choosing to catch your breath and stay away from the dance floor for the time being, you took the chance to capture some less than complimentary photos and videos of your friends to use on upcoming birthdays.

Giggling at their drunken dance moves you failed to notice someone slide onto the barstool next to you. It wasn’t until you turned back to take a sip of your drink that you caught sight of a brunet in a tuxedo-print shirt shooting you a confident smirk.

You gave a brief smile and moved your attention back to the dance floor.

The man next to you cleared his throat lightly, “Hi.”

Your eyes shot around the bar until you clicked he was talking to you, again you gave him the briefest of smiles, a grimace almost, and a nod in greeting.

“I’m Dylan.” His smirk grew into a grin.

You offered your name as a short reply and took another sip, diverting your eyes.

While you kept your eyes on your drink you felt him move closer, arm brushing yours on the bar top. You retracted your arm right away.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Eyes flitted from your drink to him and back again pointedly, “Um, I’m good… thanks.”

Dylan shrugged and took a swig of his beer, “You from around here?”

Actively trying to hold back your eyeroll you nodded, “I am.”

Take the hint, dude.

You turned your back to the guy and let your eyes drag across the crowd, trying to locate your friends, clocking the gaze of a couple of people you recognised as pilots while doing so.

“Not very talkative are you?”

You shut your eyes in an attempt to calm yourself.

“Come on, sweetheart. Join me for a drink.” He pushed.

“No thanks, I’m here with someone.”

Now would be a great time for your friends to make an appearance.

“Then why’re you sitting at the bar by yourself?” Dylan leaned closer as he asked the question, you felt yourself lean backwards on instinct.

“Not exactly a crime, is it?”

He chuckled lowly, “You’ve got jokes. Tell me another.”

You sighed and looked him in the eye, “I don’t want to be rude but I really am here with someone.”

Technically not a lie.

Dylan smirked, “Easy, sweetheart. I’m just talking to a pretty woman. Nothin’ wrong with that.”

“Please… don’t.”

“Don’t what? Talk to you?”

Before you could think of a reply you felt an arm move around your back to support your weight as you leaned so far back in your seat you were almost falling out. Your eyes shot from the brunet in front of you to the blond man who now flanked your side, recognising him as one of the guys who had caught your eye not two minutes earlier.

“This guy bothering you, darlin’?” His question was directed at you but his gaze didn’t leave Dylan’s.

“We’re just talking,” Dylan shifted his eyes to you, “aren’t we, sweetheart?”

So lost in what was happening you couldn’t find your voice.

“Do me a favour, and stop talking to my girl.”

Your head tilted up to stare at the blond in surprise, he tilted his head down to you, as if you could read his mind, just go with it.

You relaxed slightly against him and nodded lightly, giving him the go-ahead. At your nod, the blond moved his hand from where he had a hold on the edge of the bar top to rest lightly on your bicep, thumb rubbing gently against your skin.

“Your girl?”

“My girl,” the blond confirmed, “problem?”

Dylan held his hands up in mock defence, “She didn’t say anything about a boyfriend, man. Maybe you should keep a tighter leash on her.”

The grip on your arm tightened ever so slightly.

“You should go now.”

The brunet smirked at the blond’s sneer, “I’m just here getting a drink. It’s a public bar.”

“It’s a Navy bar,” Penny interrupted from behind the counter, “everything okay here, Hangman?”

Hangman?

“We’re good, Penny,” so the blond was Hangman? “He was just leaving.”

Dylan looked from Hangman, to Penny, to you and rolled his eyes, “Whatever, man. Your bitch, your problem.”

You felt the man next to you tense and start to move closer to the stranger, shooting your hand to his chest to stop his movements. His eyes dropped to yours and you shook your head, “Please don’t. It’s not worth it.”

Hangman’s jaw tensed as he studied your face, nodding finally.

“Penny, my dear,” he called over his shoulder, eyes still locked on the dark-haired man, “How about giving that bell a quick ring?”

Penny smirked and winked at you as she stepped back and rang the bell, resulting in the bar erupting in cheers. At the strangers' confused expression Hangman took the liberty to point at the sign behind the bar, beer still in hand, “You disrespect a lady, you buy a round. For everyone.”

Clocking Dylan’s angry glare you discreetly moved in closer to your saviour, who in turn tightened his grip on you and continued to stare the man down.

“Not only have you disrespected a lady, you disrespected my lady. Time for you to walk on back to your pals.” Hangman made a shooing motion with his free hand.

Deciding to not dig himself further into the hole he’d found himself in, Dylan rolled his eyes, mumbled a, ‘Whatever’, and walked back to the bachelor party, choosing instead to glare at you from afar.

“Prick.”

You almost jumped in fright at the sound, suddenly remembering that you weren’t alone. Slipping out of Hangman’s hold you braced yourself back against the bar and looked up at the blond waiting a beat before breathing out, “Thank you.”

His green eyes snapped from glaring across the bar down to meet yours, now full of concern, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded slightly, “yeah, I’m good. Seriously, thank you for that. You didn’t need to.”

“Guy needs to learn to take a hint,” his eyes dragged over your face as if he was looking for any sign of harm, “are you here by yourself?”

You shook your head, “I’m um, I’m with my friends,” you turned and pointed vaguely to the corner of the bar that had been claimed as a dance floor by anyone drunk enough, “They’re just… preoccupied.”

Trust your friends to choose that exact moment to start attempting the ‘sprinkler’ dance move. You dragged your hand over your face, giggling in embarrassment, “Jesus Christ.”

The blond chuckled behind you, “Preoccupied is one word for it,” he watched them for a moment longer, “You’re gonna be here a while,” your gaze moved back to him as he spoke, “C’mon.”

He handed you your drink from the bar before placing his hand lightly on your back, giving you a light push to get you to follow his lead.

You were grateful for his hand on your back, keeping you grounded as you followed him through the crowd, mind still on the interaction that had just occurred. Hangman led you to a table in the back corner of the bar, out of sight of the bachelor party crew.

Sliding into the seat opposite him you let out the breath you’d been holding in for what felt like forever.

“You okay?” He checked again. Smiling in response you nodded.

“I'm good. Thank you. Again.”

He tipped his head in acknowledgement.

“So… you’re in the Navy?” You prompted, trying to save you both from an awkward silence.

His face split into a grin and nodded, “Am I that obvious?”

“You’ve got the whole,” you gestured vaguely around his face, “clean cut, slicked back hair, officer thing going on. And Hangman doesn’t exactly sound like a run-of-the-mill nickname.”

He tipped his beer bottle at you accusingly, “You’re very observant.”

“What do you do? Within the Navy, I mean.”

“Naval aviator, ma’am. I fly the planes.”

Your eyes brightened, “Pilot, huh? Must be a nice view up there.”

His eyes locked with yours, “It sure is something.”

Jesus Christ.

You busied yourself by taking a sip from your glass, “So do you have a name, or do I keep calling you… Hangman.”

He chuckled at your uncertainty, “Something wrong with my callsign?”

Immediately shaking your head you backtracked, “No! No. It’s a great… callsign. I just feel Iike I shouldn’t be calling you that… is that normal? For a normal person to use your callsigns? And by ‘normal people’, I mean ya’know… not Navy people.”

His eyes didn’t leave yours as he smiled at your obvious fumbling, “Lieutenant Jake Seresin at your service, ma’am.”

You shook his outstretched hand and told him your name in return, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lieutenant.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, darlin’.”

God that smile.

“You uh, you don’t have to sit here with me you know. Go back to your Navy friends. I’m good. Promise.”

He leaned back in his chair and smiled softly at you, “You telling me to leave?”

“Um no… I’m just… I don’t-“

Jake interrupted your rambling, “If it’s alright with you, ma’am, I think I’d like to stay. You know, to ward off any more unwanted attention.”

The heat in your cheeks was bound to be obvious and you ducked your head in an attempt to hide your shy smile, “Sure. That’s… that’s absolutely fine.”

You learnt a lot about the man in front of you as you shared a drink, and then another. He was a Texas native, had only ever wanted to be a pilot, had an older sister, loved 70’s and 80’s rock over any other music,

“Post Malone? No. If it’s not Phil Collins I don’t want it.”

He was well travelled,

“If you go to one place in your lifetime… make it Italy.”

Was apparently incredible at darts,

“I swear to God! Hand over my eyes, three in a row, bullseye every time.”

Was not the most humble of men,

“Someone’s got to be the best, right?”

“You’re very sure of yourself.”

“Nothing’ wrong with a little confidence, darlin’”

And he was enjoying his time in San Diego,

“It’s nice here, you know? The sun, the sea, the views from the sky. It has a way of growing on you.”

For every question you asked him, he had fired one right back at you.

Where did you grow up? What’s your favourite food? What’s your least favourite thing about your job? Cats or dogs? Tell me this, tell me that.

He was an incredibly interesting man.

“You have lived one hell of a life, Jake.”

He smiled fondly at you, “Still got a long way to go.”

The flow of your conversation was interrupted by your two now very drunk friends collapsing into the spare seats at your table and grabbing you dramatically.

“We’ve been looking for you everywhere! Are you gonna sleep with this guy?” She eyed a very amused Jake and leant closer to you, not whispering at all, “He’s hot!”

Your eyes flicked between your friends and Jake rapidly, very much embarrassed, “Okay time to call it a night I think.”

You sunk back the last of your soda, grimacing at the tickle down your throat before you clapped your hands at your friends who were blatantly checking out your company, “Let’s go! Taxi’s leaving.”

Apparently they had indulged themselves a little too much this evening and struggled to walk in a straight line, resulting in you carrying the weight of one and Jake, ever the gentleman, allowing the other to lean on him for support as you led them out of the bar.

“Looks like you’re in for a fun night.” He laughed as you both struggled towards your car.

“They’ll owe me for next time. That’s for sure.” You managed to unlock your car and less than gracefully shove your friend in the passenger seat. Jake followed suit with your friend in the backseat, however with his advantage in strength, his dislodgement was a lot more coordinated.

You spoke over your shoulder as you rounded the car to the driver’s side, “Thank you for tonight. For everything. That guy, the company and,” you gestured to the mess that was your friends, “this.”

He chuckled and took a step closer to you, “Happy to help.”

The two of you stared at each other quietly, sharing a soft smile before the banging on a car window interrupted the moment. Apparently your friends wanted to go, and wanted to go now.

“I should go.” You pointed your thumb over your shoulder to your car.

Jake nodded in agreement, “Can I,” he cleared his throat, “I apologise if I’m out of line, but can I see you again?”

You felt a grin make its way over your face as the heat once again returned to your cheeks. Nodding shyly you held his eye contact, “Yeah. That’d be great.”

Smiling his megawatt smile in your direction he handed you his phone and you typed out a message to send to yourself.

90’s RnB trumps 80’s rock.

He rolled his eyes when he saw what you’d typed out, “It most certainly does not.”

You shrugged innocently, “Agree to disagree.”

Gaining a surge of confidence you rose up to place a sweet kiss on the pilot’s cheek, pulling back almost as quickly, “I guess I’ll be seeing you, Lieutenant.”

You relished in the way he was lost for words, “Yeah, you will.”

Giving him one last smile you turned and hopped into the driver’s seat, waving at him through the window and driving away.

Watching him watch you through the rearview mirror.

#top gun maverick #top gun #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #jake seresin imagine #top gun maverick fic

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rockybloo · 6 months

Note

wait so to the characters in-universe it looks like bitterbat is just trying to humiliate/seduce sweetheart, does sweetheart reject him constantly or does she actually seem like she’s into it? because if she rejects him publicly all the time, then the fact that there’s in-universe people who still ship them together despite that kinda gives me weird vibes

of course we as the viewers know that sweetheart is actually dating him and enjoys his advances, but the fictional bittersweet shippers don’t know the full situation. did you intend for the bittersweet shippers to be seen as weird fans, or is there some lore that i’m missing?

Because this is gonna be a very long response, I will answer this two part question right now with a "She seems into it" and "Yes" in case you (or anyone who is reading this) ain't into a 10 min read

Now comes the part where I slam down my essay about my OCs and the world they live in on your desk for the true expanded response under the cut

"Bitterbat is the King of Monsters who is smitten with Decking City's Loveliest Hero, Sweetheart, who constantly rejects his advances due to her sworn oath to stand as a pillar of peace and love to protect the city from danger."

Of course, this is what they have written down in their shared notebook where they brainstorm their confrontations to make them seem more believable instead of staged. I should state now that what really goes down when Bitterbat and Sweetheart confront each other is Bitterbat going ahead of Sweetheart and tracking down a seed of corruption that is about to be awakened or hasn't awakened yet. He then wakes it up prematurely so it's in a slightly more weakened state and lures it to Sweetheart where she destroys it as Beloved weaponry is the only effective way to put down a Vent without harming the person inside of it.

SO THE MONSTER FIGHTING IS REAL-Bitterbat and Sweetheart's entire act in the public eye is fake.

And when it comes to rejection during the act, Sweetheart doesn't straight up verbally reject or voice discomfort. When Bitterbat flirts with her, she shoots him a corny one liner back and when he attempts to sweet talk her, she pulls out a good ole magical girl monologue. Sometimes they verbally bounce off one another and occasionally Sweetheart's acting face slips as she flirts a smidge back at him, dropping hints that he's "Cute but a troublemaker" or "A shame you waste your good looks on evil".

And when Bitterbat gets more physical like pinning or down or straddling her, she very obviously gets flustered as she manages to gracefully slip her away out of Bitterbat's purposely loose grip on her. There is never a struggle when he pins her down but he makes sure it's loose so Sweetheart to manifest a gun and blast him away pure and clean. Thought there have been times she has let the pin down linger a bit too long because a girl's thinking gets fuzzy when her boyfriend is looking at her like she's a 5 course meal and she has to focus on not swooning.

The two didn't plan it but they've accidentally loaded their entire act with sexual tension and the Bittersweet (the in canon ship name for Sweetheart and Bitterbat) shippers can TASTE it.

Even nonshippers crack jokes about the relationship like openly referring to Bitterbat as Sweetheart's boyfriend. Whenever Sweetheart has talk show interviews, her relationship with Bitterbat is a constant discussion topic to bring up that's filled to the brim with "Ok but what is Bitterbat to you?" type questions.

That being said, Bittersweet shippers are definitely meant to be viewed as weird by other shippers. That's mainly because all hero x villain shippers in story are deemed weirdos. It's a taboo relationship to many and there are countless forum posts, video essays, threads, call outs, cancellations, and straight up arguments about the morality of a hero and villain dating. Even a hero and villain putting aside their differences for a brief bit to work together to take on a greater good causes some civilians to voice their hot takes.

And while other hero x villain ships tend to have a relatively small fandom, Bittersweet is an outlier because of how much fuel the magical girl and her monster boyfriend add to the fire.

Freeheart, Freebird x Sweetheart, was one of the biggest hero ships before Bitterbat made his grand return and triggered the creation of Bittersweet. And it's the true "weird" ship as, while Sweetheart and Bitterbat's banter is playful and organic, Sweetheart genuinely voices her objections and rejections to Freebird's advances.

She does it professionally but she very much is blunt about her displeasure and only becomes more straight forward after Bitterbat returns.

This is a BIG contrast to Sweetheart's lighthearted and "school girl with a crush she doesn't want to admit out loud" energy when it comes to Bitterbat. And people notice this difference. The Bittersweet shippers are the biggest haters of Freeheart because it's so obvious Freebird is barking up the wrong tree but because of their title as weirdos, the masses just mark it up to them not wanting Freebird stealing Sweetheart from Bitterbat.

That's not to say everyone is blind to the lack of mutually shared feelings between the two heroes. But because Freebird isn't straight up out here being super forward and forcing himself upon Sweetheart, restraining himself to simply verbally flirting or admiring her, people just shrug it off and figure it's a matter of Freebird being oblivious the girl ain't into him, Sweetheart playing hard to get, or they just have a weird af friendship.

The twist to shippers in canon is that hero shippers IN GENERAL are viewed as weird by the average person who doesn't partake in that side of hero culture.

It's basically the equivalent of us in our reality shipping celebrities together but with an extra layer of separation to it because many heroes have secret identities no one knows. So people justify it with "Well being a hero is basically like being a different person and putting on an act so it's not that bad to say I think [hero a] should make out with [hero b]".

There's that element of striping away the humanity and filling that space with fantasy. Amara is grounded in reality and a girl anyone could run into on the street. She has her own life and private matters. Meanwhile, Sweetheart is a public and widely known face. She has abilities the mind cannot comprehend and is like a fictional character come to life.

And because many heroes don't view their hero identities as their true selves, it's easy to just brush off the shipping and laugh at it because it's just civilians having fun with what little information they truly know about their favorites.

Overall it's meant to be harmless fun (outside of the ship wars) though there's the rare case, like Freeheart, where the shipping can lead to consequences...like Freebird taking all the fans support of his crush as motivation and fuel for his determination to be with Sweetheart.

#ask #ask: glitter and guilt #ask: sweetheart #ask: bitterbat #ask: freebird #ask: licorice

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chanandlersstuff · 1 year

Text

Game Night

Pairing: Dagger Squad x Bluebird (platonic)

Summary: Playing games with nine adults would seem as an easy and fun task, but it wasn't or it's dagger squad game night but it just ends up with everyone shouting over each other while Bob is trying to read the rule book out loud.

Word count: 2.009

Author’s note: It's insipire by @hangmanapologist post about game night, so thanks to her. Bluebird is the callsign for the character I created, I'm still developing her and her story. Sorry in advance for the misspellings English is my second lenguage.

Request are open, and you can ask me for more Bluebird x DaggerSquad. Thank you so much for reading, have a nice day.

Game night was a tradition that the Dagger squad tried to follow as much as Football game day. At first it started on the Hard Deck, playing pool and darts while betting money but after one day that Penny couldn't open the bar, they moved the game night to someone else's house. Each of them was in charge of bringing food, drinks and games. Whatever they wanted to consume that night. Extremely organized, just like the Navy taught them to be.

With each game night passing on the calendar, a new game was crossed from the list. First was Twister, because Payback sprained his ankle trying not to fall from the mix of tangled limbs and in the process he kicked Coyote’s hand and he sprained his pink; ring and middle finger. One would think that the best pilots the Navy could offer would have some kind of agility, like a cat, but no. So that game was off the list to prevent future injuries.

Second was Monopoly, Phoenix beat everyone assess and took all their fake money which ended in a two weeks roast from her part and the rest of the squad could not deal with a bragging Phoenix for far too long. Plus, the integrity of Banker Bob was compromised because Coyote was sure he and Phoenix were plotting or something like that. So it was taken out for the benefit of the group.

Third was Movie Charades, a game the squad could not play, which they had to learn the hard way, with Bluebird and Fanboy. The pair guessed all the movies before the two minutes that the game required were done, even when it wasn’t their turn. Then they tried to switch it to normal charades but it ended with Bluebird getting frustrated with Hangman, him laughing at her mad face and her accidentally throwing her pen at him. None of the squad let her live the pen accident down, to the point where they all docked down when she moved her hands frantically with a pen between her fingers.

Fourth was Life, it was a funny night full of drinks until it ended in absolute drama. Everything was laugh until the game ended with Mav retiring first with lots of money, three kids and a beautiful life while Bradley ended up alone, almost broke and made bad decision after bad decisions. Normally they would laugh but the problem was that Bradley was drunk, so he ended up ugly crying about it and the whole squad doing something like a therapy group. The drama continued because the whole group, who was beyond drunk at that point, ended up crying about how much they all like each other and how they became a beautiful, disfuncional, family. Mav, the only one sober, watched them all fall asleep in his living room and, as the responsabile father he is, he covered them with blankets and told them he loved all of them very much over a breakfast hangover proof he prepared. So yeah, Life was a game the squad was not mentally prepared to play in the near future.

Now it was a new game night day and the squad was all gathered in Bluebird’s house playing Uno, a game so chaotic it was a surprise it was still on the list. At first everything was funny, skipping here and there, changing colors, Phoenix taking care of Bluebird’s cards because she had to go peeing, Bob being the first one to win because he played in silence and patiently. A few rounds later Phoenix won and then Mav.

The tension started growing when Hangman kept skipping Rooster’s turn and giving Bluebird a free pass to win, plus the benefit of messing with Bradley. At some point the reverse card was thrown and now who couldn't play because someone kept skipping his turn was Jake thanks to Bradley. The blonde pilot was having a taste of his own medicine and he didn’t like it because the mustache man was rubbing it on his face. Slowly, after plenty of UNO shout at the ones who were nearly finishing, the rest of the group ended with no cards to the point the only ones playing were Rooster, Hangman and Bluebird, whose poor soul was so caught up with the idiocy of those two that she forgot her own game.

Every piece of sanity the pair had until that moment was thrown out the window the second Hangman laid a +4 with a winning face. “Draw four, Chicken.”

Rooster, who has only two cards, looked at him smugly and laughed. “No can do, Bagman.” And he laid a +2 with the rest of the cards.

Bluebird stretched her hand to take the six cards that she had to but a hand slapped hers away. “Aw, Jake.”

“Sorry, Birdy.” He smiled sweetly at her and then caressed her knuckles. "First of all, UNO!" Jake yelled. "You have to draw 6, Chicken, come on." He dropped Bluebird's hand and pushed the cards towards Bradley. "Second, stop cheating, Bradshaw, you know that that bulsshit you want to do is against the rules.”

“No it 's not.” Rooster turned to look at him. “You wanted me to draw four but I had a +2 so now Blue had to draw six, those are the rules. And the other two we can discuss it, but I was just going to say it before you yelled it like a mad man."

Hangman shook his head. “No, they are not. You have to draw four and your turn is skipped.” He grabbed two cards and handed them to him. "And you are going to draw those two, you didn't say UNO."

“Nah-ah.” Bradley shook his head.

“Yeah-ah.” Jake mimicked him, but he nodded instead of shaking his head.

“Guys, don’t worry I will draw six. Let’s forget this and keep playing.” Bluebird always trying to keep the peace between those two idiots.

Hangman stood up. “No way in hell, Birdy. I will not keep playing with a cheater.”

“Who are you calling a cheater, Seresin?” Rooster stood up too and they were face to face.

“No one, he was calling a cheater to no one.” Bluebird stood up between the two of them.

“You, Bradshaw. I was calling you a cheater.” The smirk on Jake’s lips was a clear example of how much he was enjoying messing with Bradley.

“Oh Crap.” Bluebird said under her breath. “GUYS, A LITTLE HELP HERE.”

The rest of the group walked back from the kitchen confused. But seeing the scene in front of them they all tried to cool down the situation. “Why don’t we play another game?” Payback looked at everyone with a smile on his face.

“Yeah, what about-”Coyote started saying when his friend from a long time cut him mid phare. “Hell no, not until Bradshaw here acknowledges he is a cheater.”

“No, I’m not!” Rooster said. “You are saying that because you want me to lose. Admit it.”

“I want to win-”

“Bullshit, you want Blue to win.” Rooster pointed at her and the rest of the group nodded discreetly.

Hangman chuckled, tilting his head back. “The idea it’s win fairly, not cheating like you.” Bluebird elbowed Jake in the ribs to stop, but he just laughed.

Phoenix shook her head at their antics. “Why don’t you tell us what happened and we decide who’s cheating-” Bradley opened his mouth but she held her finger high. “or not cheating.”

In a mix of words the pair tried to explain what was happening but they ended up listening to Bluebird’s part of the story. What seemed to be the end of the stupid fight was not it, not by a long shot. One by one they all started shouting what were the rules of Uno, what they can do and what they can not. Phoenix and Coyote sided with Jake. Payback and Fanboy sided with Rooster. Bob was reading the rules out loud on his phone, who no one was listening to, Bluebird was leaning against the wall eating because she was not going to take sides in something that silly and Mav was sitting; sharing food with Blue and laughing at all of them.

After what felt like hours, Bluebird’s head started to hurt. “I'm stopping this madness right now.”

Mav looked up to her and stretched his hand. “Be my guest, Blue.”

“PEOPLE PEOPLE PEOPLE!” Her voice stopped the shouts but they all kept talking under their breaths. “WHO ARE YOU CALLING, HANGMAN?”

He had his phone near his ear, hand in his hip and his feet tapping against the floor. “Uno’s Customer Support Line.” Everyone looked at him surprised. “So, Chicken, here can hear how right I am and how he is a cheater at Uno.” He pointed at Rooster with his head, but he just huffed and shook his head.

Blue pinched the bridge of her nose. “Hang the phone, Seresin, it’s two in the morning. You are not calling anyone.”

“But-” “No buts, you would not like someone calling you at two a.m.” He pursed his lips. “I’m sure mamma Seresin taught you it’s rude to wake people at such an hour.” Cursing under his breath Jake listened to her.

Everyone looked at each other at how with very few words Bluebird handled Hangman and his antics. Maverick, who was watching everything unfold, had to put his hand on his mouth to suppress his laugh.

“This ends here.” Blue crossed her arms and put on a stern face. “We cross Uno from game night too.”

“At this point we can't play anything.” Fanboy said like a little kid that was being scolded by his mother.

“Not unless some of us learn how to act like human beings.” Coyote looked around the room.

“Tell that to Chicken here.” Jake looked at Rooster smugly.

Rooster’s nostrils flare. “I swear to God, Bagman-”

Bluebird took a deep breath. “Stop it, Jake.” Rooster smiled triumphantly. “You too, Bradley.” She looked at him. “You all are acting childish, it’s just a game. We were supposed to be having a good time, laughing, having drinks and food, with each other.” She looked around the room. “Decompress after all the hard work and stress up there, not shouting at each other over cards.” Clearly Bluebird was the one who had more common sense, at some things, off all them.

The Dagger Squad stayed silent for a couple of minutes, some looking at the floor and others looking at each other. “Come on guys, Blue is right. Let’s forget this and eat.” Phoenix patted one of them in the back and went to sat on the sofa.

It didn’t take them long to sit around the sofa, eat and have fun. After a few minutes, while everyone was laughing Bob spoke after quite some time. “Guys.” The group looked at him, the secret keeper who was considered the cutests from them all by his sweet smile and glasses. “The official page of Uno on Twitter says, ‘If someone puts down a +4 card, you must draw 4 and your turn is skipped. It’s not allowed to put a +2 to make the other person draw 6.’” Jake gave everyone a big smile and raised his arms.

“Heard that Chicken?” He looked at Bradley. “You know what that means? You are a che-AW” Jake’s comment was cut short by Bluebird, who pinched him in the arm. “Birdy, what’s that for?” He looked at his side, where she was sitting.

“You know why. Cut it out, Jake.” She said tilting his head to the side and he nodded.

Rooster laughed. “Look at you, Bagman, wwh-psssh-AW” He too was cut short. “Goddammit, Bluebird.” Bradley rubbed the part of her arm where she pinched him too.

“You too cut it out.” She looked at him from the corner of her eye. “Both of you, keep eating and playing nice. Otherwise, I will smack you.” Both grown up man nodded and did as she said.

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enpr-ss · 6 months

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Etho made the advancement [Call Life Alert!] Etho made the advacement [Not a Happy Camper]

#ethoslab #etho #decked out 2 #hermitcraft #fake decked out advancements #enpr-ss #phase 5 #he fell down and couldn't get up like SEVEN times #giving all of us medical emergencies as grian would put it #and then proceeded to cower there for 20 minutes and then another 10 minutes by the berry bushes #gem should have killed him more honestly

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streetlightyeri · 1 year

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so it goes... ; jake "hangman" seresin

"met you in a bar, all eyes on me, your illusionist . . . all eyes on us."

so it goes . . . - taylor swift

warnings: pwp, dom/sub dynamics, begging, praise, rivals to lovers, misogyny from external characters, SA, angst, smut. very cheesy ending. not proofread. 18+ MDNI.

a/n: i honestly don't know where the plot came from this was supposed to be straight smut if i'm honest <3 there's no description of the character, I just find y/n and 2nd person extremely corny when writing

word count: 7.6k

It was absolutely no secret that Ivy hated Lt. Jake “Hangman” Seresin; from the moment they met and he gave her his signature “I’ll make your panties drop” smirk, she was ringing the bell on him more times than most people could count. On nights the pilots went to the Hard Deck with him, some didn’t even bring their wallets, knowing that they would be getting drunk on his dime. It never stopped him though. Their playful rivalry was seemingly never ending, but both knew that if Ivy put her foot down and told him to stop, he would, no questions asked. It started as her ignoring his advances and trying to continue serving him normally before it eventually turned into her pouring everyone else shots but him, purposefully leaving him for last then leaving Penny to serve him before going on break. After he learned her tricks and waited for Penny to go on break before approaching the bar, that’s when the bell ringing began. She was no stranger to the bell - oftentimes men would start making comments about her when she turned around, leading to the group of aviators (often led by Jake himself) to surround the man and herd him out of the bar.

The first time she rang the bell on Jake, he had leaned his elbow onto the bar, his cellphone slipping out of his jacket pocket and onto the wood. Ivy all but lunged for the bell, causing a roar of cheers to erupt around the bar. The Lieutenant rolled his eyes and placed his card on the counter; it was the first time he had ever seen her smile at him, even if it was dripping with sarcasm as she swiped the card on her kiosk, opening a tab before turning around and grabbing three bottles of tequila to begin pouring out. A few times after that, she served him without a fight, but on the night he forgot his card at the bar after picking up four shots in his hands with a “thanks, sweetcheeks,” she called out his last name. The whole bar nearly fell silent as they watched the girl yell to him that he forgot something. He slowly turned around, making sure to not spill any alcohol, only to see her fake reaching into her coat, pulling out a middle finger instead before dropping to hold his card up.

This Saturday in particular was busy - the Fourth of July festivities were in full swing, bringing people, both regulars and newcomers, from all over San Diego to the Hard Deck. Ivy and Penny were so swamped that they had to keep telling the other “I’ll go on break later, when it gets less busy.” Ivy’s UCLA shirt was wet from sweat and from the bottle of top shelf vodka she had accidentally spilled on herself while she kneeled on a barstool trying to reach them. Her hair was pulled back into a claw clip, baby hairs plastered to her forehead and neck from sweat. The AC was never able to cool down the room with the constant opening and closing of the door, the whole room heavy with humidity. Penny and her took turns “getting more ice” from the freezer which was just code for standing there with the door open to cool down.

The night officially won the award for worst shift ever when she had been flagged down by a table of newcomers as she was finishing cleaning off a table. They ordered a round of beers and vodka sodas to be delivered, handing her a heavy tip to compensate her for leaving her post at the bar. When she returned with the Miller Lites in hand the group twisted their caps off with their shirts, but the one to her right let the cap fall to the floor, making it seem like an accident. When she squatted down to pick up the trash, the one to her left landed his hand to her ass and squeezed. Ivy shot up, an angry gasp leaving her throat, and, without thinking, grabbed one of the vodka sodas off the table and threw it into his face and swung her tray into his side full force. The scrape of the chairs from all of the men getting up caught the attention of the Top Gun pilots who were engrossed in their game of dirty pool. Ivy realized her mistake in attacking a person who was about half a foot taller than her who had 4 more people for backup. She took a small step back, but bumped into a strong chest. Scared it was a 6th member of the group, she quickly turned around, instead seeing Hangman standing there, backed by Fritz, Fanboy, and Coyote, with a few others approaching. Her view of him and the other pilots didn’t last long, as she was yanked by her hair to the space behind the group of men, hitting her head on the corner of the table and falling over one of the chairs as she went down.

There were strict rules on fighting in the academy, but there was an unspoken agreement amongst the group that the tale of this fight wouldn’t make it out of the room. There were some situations that only violence could fix. So, that’s how each of the group of men ended up with their heads similarly banged up and on the gravel outside. Other than the scuffle that was happening, no one made a noise - newcomers watched, aghast, and regulars stood by on the ready. If Ivy didn’t have blood pouring into her eye from her cut, she would’ve seen said regulars standing in pairs near any exits to stop any men who dared to make a run for it from escaping.

Phoenix had her hands placed under Ivy’s arms, helping her up and to the bathroom. She helped Ivy run her head under the faucet, the clear water turning crimson as it went down the drain. After a few minutes, and with her eye flushed clean, Phoenix helped her up from her near-upside down position under the faucet to standing up, the water droplets making the blood still producing from her cut make its way down her face even faster. When she looked down at her shirt, a drop of blood fell and dotted the “i” on the BRUINS written on her shirt in gold. Phoenix helped her apply pressure to her cut while she turned to look at herself in the mirror. Her hair was nearly falling out of the clip, her shirt collar darkened still from the sweat and vodka from earlier, now accompanied by the water and blood. She was paler than usual and the brown paper towels held to her head were darkening, “When I said I wanted to get more up close and personal with medicine, this is not what I meant.”

“What better way to succeed as a premed student than to experience everything you learn about firsthand?” Natalie led her over to the stool they kept in the bar bathroom for tipsy girls to sit on while their friends did their business. Hygienic? No. But appreciated by patrons? Yes. “I should check your eyes, see if you have-” She was cut off by a knock on the door. When Phoenix asked who it was, her hands still on her friend’s shoulders to make sure she stayed upright, she received a response that Phoenix had been expecting since the sound of the fight outside had subsided.

“It’s me,” Hangman’s voice was undeniable. Ivy’s gaze shot up, looking between her friend and the door, silently begging her not to leave her. Phoenix gave her an awkward smile before standing up and unlocking the door, letting him in. He pushed past his fellow aviator, coming to a kneel on one knee in front of the stool Ivy was sitting on, putting his hand behind her neck to keep her in place as he checked her for any harm aside from the obvious.

Ivy swallowed hard, not sure what to say, opting to keep their rivalry going because she wasn’t sure how to even go about thanking him, “You did good for being the same height as them.”

Jake normally would have laughed and said something along the lines of, “It’s my ego that did the heavy lifting,” but seeing the paper towels soaked with blood had his mind far away from banter and cemented in the moment at hand.

The silence was eating at Ivy’s ears, causing more words to spill from her to keep it at bay, “At least respond to the momentarily blinded girl.”

His jaw tightened for a moment, “How the fuck are you joking right now?”

She shifted uncomfortably beneath his gaze, “Come on, it’s not that big of a deal. It’s just a cut. It’s only bleeding so much because it’s on my temple. At least it’s an excuse to get me out of the rest of this God awful shift.”

“What were you thinking? Starting a fight with someone like that - he could’ve smashed a glass in your face.”

Ivy scoffed, slapping away his hands with her free one, “Oh, so I’m supposed to just let whoever waltzes into this bar grab a handful of my ass? I’ll keep that in mind for the next shift. Might show up naked.”

He let out a breath through his nose. He wasn’t positive about what happened prior to Ivy’s retaliation, but he knew it was most likely something along those lines, but hearing her confirm it just made his blood boil even more, “No! You get someone and let them take care of it, not hit them with a plastic tray.”

Ivy pulled away from him again as he applied pressure to her wound, “I’m not a fucking child. I’m going to stand up for myself. I’m not going to hide behind some man. You can’t seriously be blaming me for this!”

“That’s not what I’m saying! I’m-” He was cut off by Phoenix saying his name sharply. Her eyes met his before flickering down to Ivy, a cue for him to focus on the real problem.

He stood, pulling a few more paper towels from the dispenser. Phoenix pulled the trash can away from the door and closer to Jake, allowing him to dispose of the bloody wad before dabbing at the cut on her temple with the towels he had run under the water. It was silent as he ran his thumbs across her head and through her hair, checking how far back the cut went. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches, but you need to go to the ER in case you have a concussion.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa - absolutely not, Seresin. I have much bigger problems on my plate right now than a possible concussion. One of my summer classes ends next week and I have 5 more shifts after this. I’m going home and sleeping this off.” She stood up, annoyed at his belief that he could tell her what to do. When he went to protest her refusal, he found himself lunging to help balance her as she wobbled after standing. He and Phoenix each had an arm and helped her back to the seat. He looked over Ivy’s head and mouthed for Natalie to go get her a bottle of water and something to eat before handing her his truck keys for her to bring it around. She took the chance to leave the tension filled room with pleasure and almost flew out the room. From the pressure he had applied earlier, the bleeding had mostly stopped.

“After that attempt to walk, I’m taking you to the ER. If you don’t have a concussion, then I’ll take the blame. If you do, I’ll never forgive myself for letting you sleep on it. That’s final.”

Ivy rolled her eyes, “Fine. But We’re taking my car, not your ecological disaster of a vehicle.”

He helped her up and had an arm around her shoulders to keep her steady. His size dwarfed her, his large hands wrapping around her upper arms easily. “Your car’s so small that I’m going to have to drive from your backseat.”

“You seem like the type to be a backseat driver, so I guess all your training’s paid off.”

He did his best to hide her from the crowded bar, and she kept her gaze down. The night air was cooling down, the breeze from the sea sweeping across the island. Fireworks popped in the distance. Ivy dug in her pockets for her car keys, lighting up her small prius at the back of the lot. Jake knew her car, as he often was volun-told to walk her back to it after the Hard Deck closed, so he could tell something was off when he saw the interior light on. The two walked a little faster, Ivy mentally scolding herself for not checking if she had properly shut the door when she locked her work bag in the backseat. The crunch beneath their feet that sounded different from the rocks that made up the rest of the parking lot made the pair look down, Ivy taking her phone out to turn on the flashlight. It was glass. Car window glass - Ivy’s car window glass.

The sound of Phoenix calling for them in confusion made them turn around, seeing her jogging to them, his keys dangling in the air as she held them up, “I thought you guys were taking Hangman’s?”

Jake delicately thrusted her back into her friend’s arms, “We definitely are now. Take her to my truck.”

Phoenix looked confused before looking past the pair and seeing the broken window, immediately taking Ivy and leading her back towards the front of the parking lot. She opened the passenger door to the F350, helping her step in before shutting it and getting in the driver’s seat, allowing her better vantage to see anyone trying to approach.

Jake reached through the broken back window and unlocked the car, ducking his head down to be able to kneel on the seat, a few pieces of glass digging into his knee. Her backseat was strewn with clothes that were clearly from the bag that had been emptied. There was a tilt to the car, telling him that one of her tires was slashed. The contents of her glove compartment were strewn about the front seat. He circled the car, trying to find something that had identified her to the group of men - there, on the inside of her windshield, was a UCLA parking pass. He took pictures of everything, intending to get a list of everything that was missing once she was medically cleared. When he switched places with Phoenix, he threw his phone in the cup holder.

Two 400mg Ibuprofens, multiple butterfly bandages, and confirmation of a mild concussion later, Jake had opted to show her the photos on the drive back to her house after practically forcing a pair of sunglasses onto her face. She zoomed in and out of the photos, trying to identify anything that was missing. Ivy felt her face flush with embarrassment as she realized the item that was gone; she couldn’t help the burning feeling in her throat or the tears that pricked at her eyes. Her new silence made Jake glance over to the passenger seat. Her hand was quick to wipe away the tear that escaped, but was nowhere near fast enough to not be seen by him.

“What? What is it?”

“I- I, um,” She swallowed, her voice breaking every time she went to speak. “They, uh . . . they took my underwear from my bag. It’s the only thing missing.”

Ivy may have been the one with blood in her eyes, but Jake saw red in that moment. He vowed at that moment to track them down and make them regret ever making Ivy feel unsafe. The rest of the drive was silent; Ivy pulled her knees to her chest, her eyes staring vacantly out the windshield as she gave him directions. Her driveway was empty, despite the house being advertised for rent for 2 people. She’d had a roommate for the first 3 weeks of the summer, but the girl fell homesick and moved back to Maine, opting to pay the rent and be with her family than pay it and be alone. Ivy was absentmindedly picking at her nails, the polish chipping off in tiny bits of purple, when Jake pulled into her driveway. The truck was silent, save for the AC running on max. Ivy still didn’t look his way, too scared to see any pity in his eyes, “I- um, I don’t know how else to thank you than just saying it.”

His response was immediate, “Don’t.”

She reached her hand back and pulled the claw clip from her very tangled hair, allowing her to run her hands through it and give an excuse as to why she wasn’t looking at him. “No, really. You didn’t have to do any of this. And I was a dick to you when you were just trying to help. I know that I shouldn’t have done it - that I should’ve just . . . let someone else handle it or kick them out or something. But I’ve lived my whole life being afraid, being forced to ignore the way men act around women - around girls. I’ve carried pepper spray for longer than I’ve carried a house key. For fuck’s sake, I can’t get into my car without having to check the backseat with my flashlight because I’ve read too many stories about girls in this country getting murdered. I’m a bartender, and I’m too scared to drink alcohol in public because I’m afraid someone will roofie me. I just - I wanted at least one man, just one, to understand that women aren’t their toys. I wanted someone to understand there are consequences to their actions. And, well, look where it got me.” She held her hands up, “Mildly concussed and prius-less. Even with their heads knocked into tables, they still had to violate me in the most disgusting way. Touching me wasn’t enough because they felt like they were owed it. They went out of their way to find which car was mine and left everything but the one thing they knew would make me feel sick to my stomach. Hell, even now, I’m scared to be in my house. I didn’t have a key that they could’ve stolen in my car, but there’s so many ways they can break into my house. And the fact that it’s not even insane for me to think that they tracked down my house is so disheartening, because stuff like that happens all the time. It’s just - so exhausting being a woman, I wanted to be able to say I did something to protect myself. And I’m sorry for dumping this all on you, and I know you’ll never fully understand, but I need you to know I didn’t do it because I’m stupid or something. I needed to do it for me.”

Hangman was silent. Ivy expected that. If someone spilled their guts out to them like she just did to him, she also would be silent. Her thumbnail was bare at this point.

She opened the passenger side door before climbing down, giving him a small, brokenhearted smile after she took his glasses off and placed them in the cupholder. “Thanks again. Drive safe.”

She cringed at the sound of the door shutting, her brain pounding in response. Once she made it to the door, she struggled to find her house key, the limited light from the streetlamps making it hard to identify. She was too scared to use her flashlight; the nurse at the urgent care was adamant about reducing light hitting her eyes. Her struggle was stopped by a hand, making her jerk back and drop her keys, stumbling back a bit, scared it was one of the men. When she tilted her head up and saw Jake instead, her worry disappeared, but her heart was still hammering. She rested her forehead against the doorframe to catch her breath before she dropped to pick up her keys. “Jesus Christ, don’t do that.”

“I’m sorry.” Those words made her look up at him as she rose back up. They way he said it was more than just an apology for scaring her. It was an apology for everything she had confessed back in his truck, an acknowledgement that he would never understand, but he would try his best to - an apology for the way he acted towards her, even if both knew it was never really serious. A promise he would be there to back her up. He pulled her into a hug, cradling her head against his shoulder, making sure her cut was facing outward instead of against this uniform shirt. Her throat was tight once again, a few more tears escaping. She didn’t wrap her arms around him, but both knew it was because she was just too tired to do so. “Do you want me to stay? I’ll crash on the couch.”

She nodded against this chest, too scared to talk, not trusting her voice.

He took the keys from her hands, unlocking the door. He made sure to keep her behind him on the way up to her bathroom connected to her room, where they split off and he searched the rest of the house while she cleaned up; he left to get a bag of emergency clothes he kept in his backseat. Once he heard the water shut off, he made his way back to her, seeing her emerge with new bandages and a set of oversized sweats. In silence, she showed him the way to work her shower, not noticing the way he was staring at her rather than her hands.

When he left the shower, he opened the door to the sight of her asleep on top of her bedsheets. He walked over, taking the blanket that was folded at the corner of her bed for decoration and covered her with it before leaving a crack in the door and making his way downstairs.

The next few days passed by in a blur. Jake spent the nights he wasn’t required to stay on base crashing on Ivy’s couch - and eventually her bed. Ivy finished her summer class and got so black out drunk in her living room that she fell asleep sitting next to him, her head falling onto his shoulder. On top of driving her to and from the shifts he could, he took her back and forth between the mechanic, standing behind her with his feet planted and arms crossed, his face stoic, to ensure that the workers there wouldn’t upcharge her simply because she didn’t know any better.

The third or fourth time he had fallen asleep in her bed, he woke up when he normally did: before the sun. Even when he wasn’t required to be at the base, his sleep schedule was punctual - he couldn’t sleep in if he tried. The streetlights were still lit, but soon to disappear. The sky wasn’t pitch black anymore, more of a purple with a thin sliver of yellow very close to the horizon. He was shirtless, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He was on his back, his arm wrapped around her, pulling her onto his chest. He could hear her breathing in and out, deep in sleep despite his awakeness. Her TV was in sleep mode, the DirectTV logo bouncing around the screen from when they paused My Cousin Vinny the previous night because he made her laugh so hard she couldn’t breathe. They spent the rest of the night talking, leaving the TV paused, too engrossed in each other.

He directed his gaze down to her, taking in the light ring of yellow from the slowly disappearing bruise on her head and around her eye. The bruises across her thighs from where she fell over the chair on the way down had a little longer to go in the healing process due to their size, but they were getting there. He tightened his hold around her, making her stir before she tucked her head further against his chest.

Ivy was dizzy with the way he was kissing her, like he was sucking all the air out her lungs while simultaneously being the reason she was able to breathe. Every touch of their lips was euphoric and she could feel herself slowly slipping away from the present into a place that only the two of them occupied. She had never been more thankful for Maine being on the other side of the country than now. His hands were under her shirt; his calloused thumbs were rubbing her stomach while the other fingers splayed across her back. He was also keeping her hips from rolling against his from her spot on his lap. His mouth attacked her neck, leaving her gasping as she buried her hands in his hair.

“Oh, yes - Jake,” her words were almost whiny with need, her hands switching to run down his torso to the bottom of his shirt and tug. “Need you. Need you inside me.”

He leaned back against her headboard, his stupid smirk on his face again. His right hand came up to cup her chin and bring her to make eye contact with him, “Oh, sweetheart, I gotta get you ready first.”

He hadn’t even touched her and her brattiness that coaxed every conversation along was already diffusing from her, “No! No - I can take it. Please.” Without his hand to hold her in place she took her chance and rolled her hips against him, her flimsy sleep shorts allowing her friction against his clothed cock. She was willing to try anything, so the words fell from her mouth without her brain okaying them, “Please, lieutenant.”

Her grip on her chin tightened, his eyes darkening and his smirk dropped. Ivy’s heartbeat picked up as she saw his face change, but before she could react, he was flipping them over, leaving her back to the mattress and him using his forearms to hold his hover over her. Her hips bucked of their own accord at his display of strength, her thighs pressing together for friction. His gaze flickered down before using his knees to push her legs apart, keeping her from having any relief that wasn’t delivered by him.

“Say it again,” He commanded. His pupils were so blown out that the blue of his eyes was almost invisible.

“P-pleas-” A sharp smack to the side of her ass made her gasp, his hand rubbing it slowly to soothe it before coming up to push a piece of hair out her face.

“Now, sweet girl, say it like you just did. All needy-like.”

She did as he told. He went back on his haunches, looking down at her splayed beneath him, running his fingers so lightly up the sides of her legs that she squirmed from the ticklish feeling. His fingertips ghosted under her shirt again, his eyes silently looking up to her for confirmation. She nodded quickly, helping him rid her of the shirt. His quickly followed, leaving him in nothing but his sweatpants. He groaned at the sight of her breasts; there was no reason for her to sleep in a bra, leaving her fully naked up top once her shirt was gone. He slowly ran his hands up her sides, his thumbs ghosting over her ribs before landing under her boobs. The feeling of him palming at her tits was driving Ivy crazy; her whimpers were filling the room as he leaned down to kiss and suck at them. Her back shot up in an arch when his teeth grazed her left nipple before his tongue came down to soothe the pain, repeating his actions on each breast before Ivy was practically crying from need. Her hands were grabbing onto any part of him she could reach - his hair was already a disheveled mess and his shoulders and biceps were littered with crescent moons from her nails. Both of their necks and upper chests were already starting to bruise.

“J-Jake, please. Please touch me, fuck me, anything! Or let me suck you off, I just need you so fucking bad.” He was taking pictures of her in his mind right now. She was so frazzled and the most he had done was kiss her tits. He swore that if a breeze came by she would fall over the edge.

He kissed the apples of her cheeks before looking back down at her, “I told you, I gotta get you ready for me. Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Is it as big as your fucking ego, lieutenant?” She thought maybe being bratty again would get her what she wanted. “Having a big ego doesn’t make up for dick size.”

At that, his fingertips tugged her shorts down, taking her panties with them. He didn’t give her a moment to prepare before he was diving down, her thighs on his shoulders and his hands holding her hips down, eating her out like it was his last meal. She let out a scream when his tongue circled around her clit. Her back arched and her hands flew to his hair, wrapping in his blonde. He groaned into her cunt, making her moan out his name. He pulled back, lowering one thumb to pull her pussy apart. Her wetness gleamed in the morning sun that was shining through the window, her hole clenching around nothing. He looked up to her, his tongue running across his bottom lip, “Ask me to continue.”

She threw her head back onto the pillow breathlessly, a frustrated, needy “fuck you,” coming out before she adjusted her hips as best she could with his other hand still holding her down, trying her best to give him a better view of her pussy. “Please, please, lieutenant Seresin, eat me out ‘til I cum on your face so I can be ready to take your cock. You know what’s best for my pussy.”

He definitely was not expecting that to come out of her mouth - he was expecting a “please continue,” not something that made his dick harden even more than he thought was physically possible. “You want me to continue? To help you finish?”

Her head was nodding so much she thought she was going to reconcuss herself.

“How can I deny my sweet girl when she asks so nicely?” He lifted his hand to tap on her lips which she immediately parted to suck on his fingers. She moaned around them, thinking about the possibility of them inside of her. Her dreams came true when he pulled them out, a string of spit connecting them to her mouth before it broke. Jake lowered his hand and pushed two fingers inside of her. Her gasp was loud enough to alert anyone else in the house as to what was going on had anyone been there. Her fingers grasped the sheets below her, twisting them in her fists. Her whole body shuddered when he added his mouth, leaning down to suck on her clit again. Her ears were ringing, preventing her from hearing how loud she was, but that volume was spurring Jake on more. He switched from sucking to blowing to spelling his name on her clit. When he added a third finger and curled them inside of her, she fell apart. Her vision went white, her throat almost raw with how loud she was being. Her eyes were in the back of her head. Her hands went to run through his hair to pull him off from her sensitive core, but he grabbed her wrists in his free hand, pinning them to her stomach as he continued to ride her through her orgasm before bringing her to another. Her legs were shaking, her hips bucking, thighs tightening around his ears to try and escape his mouth and fingers. After her second orgasm, he relented, pulling away at her strangled “Jake, I-I can’t.”

She looked up at him as he removed himself from between her legs, keeping eye contact with her as he slipped his fingers from her pussy and sucked her cum off of them, groaning around them. “Baby, it’s a shame I’ve never tasted your cunt before. Fucking delicious. Gonna have to deploy me to keep me away.”

Her already unbrushed hair was even crazier from the way she was writhing under him, but he found her as intriguing as ever. Her lips were plump from their kissing and her biting; her cheeks were flushed. He once again tucked a piece of hair away from her face, wrapping his hand around her neck to pull her into a kiss, his thumb rubbing against her jaw as the coldness from his dog tags made her shiver as they passed over her bare chest, leaving goosebumps in their wake and leaving her nipples hard. He smirked against her lips as he heard her gasp at the metal. He leaned back once more to slip his tags off of his chest, slipping them over her head, letting them rest in between her tits. His thumbs passed over each nipple, breathing out a “perfect” as he watched her slightly arch her back at the touch, giving him a full view of his tags sitting perfectly at home in her valley. He never wanted to be discharged from the service so badly just so he could see that everyday instead of having to take them back later.

After his few moments of admiring her, he began to kiss from her sternum down to pussy again.

“I-I don’t know if I can handle an orgasm like that again,” she admitted, making him give one last kiss under her belly button.

“Oh sweet girl, that was just the start. I told you, I was getting you ready.”

Her gaze snapped back to him, abandoning the hole they were burning into the ceiling. Jake started to slide his sweats off, showing his lack of underwear under them. When they were far enough down, his cock sprung up, finally escaping. He finished riding himself of his pants before taking her hand delicately and pulling it to her mouth. “Spit.” Once again, she did as he told without question, eyes following her own hand as she sat up. He led her hand down to wrap around his dick, her thumb and middle finger not touching as she wrapped her hand around it. She slowly began to jerk him off, rubbing her thumb over his slit to spread the precum around. He threw his head back as she worked him, “Fuck.”

“Fuck my mouth lieutenant, please.” Her mouth dropped open as she began to move forward. His hand dropped to her shoulder to stop her. She looked up at him through her lashes, making his dick twitch in her hand.

“As much as I want to fuck your mouth, the only thing I’m fucking right now is that sweet pussy of yours.”

Her eyes widened a little, her eyes flickering between his eyes and his dick that she was still slowly stroking. “I don’t . . . I don’t think that will fit in me.”

That stupid smirk was back. He cupped her cheek, using his other hand to stop her motions on his cock and guided her down on her back. “I thought ego’s didn’t make up for dick size? Isn’t that what you said baby? But it’s okay, this pussy was made for me, of course it’ll fit.”

She nodded, trusting him, but didn’t say anything.

“Do you wanna do this? Just say the word and we stop, no questions asked.”

“Yes! Yes, yes I want this. I trust you.”

His jaw clenched at those words, determined to make this everything she wanted. It was already everything he wanted. He wasn’t expecting this, honest - the two of them just thought it’d be easier for him to stay there that night since he promised to bring her to her shift that afternoon. Never did he think it’d end with her calling him lieutenant in a way that wasn’t designed to ignore him. He wasn’t prepared for her glossy eyes that looked at him like he created the universe.

He lined himself up, his face hovering above hers as his weight rested on his left forearm. He looked at her for confirmation once more, her bottom lip between her lips as she nodded. He pushed the tip in, his head dropping to rest in her neck. He groaned into her ear as he went in, her sharp whine filling his senses as she clawed into his shoulder blades. He pushed in a little more, her nails scraping down his back. She let out a low moan paired with her cry of, “Fuck yes, Jake. Feels so good. So big. Filling me up so good.”

He couldn’t help the small laugh that came out of him despite the absolute euphoria he was feeling being in her. He ran a hand over her hair before pulling himself out of her neck where he was busying himself with giving her another bruise. “It’s not all the way in yet, baby.”

Ivy’s eyes widened again, “How much left could there possibly be?”

He responded by pushing all the way in. She swallowed hard as she felt him hit a place inside her that had never been touched before. He watched as a small bulge protruded at the bottom of her stomach. He led her hand to rest over it - once again leading her hand to feel his dick, but this time through her own body. He pulled out before slowly pushing back in, “You feel that, sweet girl? That’s me. That’s how deep I am in you. I told you, this pussy was made for me.”

After a few more thrusts of letting her feel the way he moved inside of her, once again rendering her speechless, he leaned down to capture her lips again before picking up his pace. He broke the kiss but only to lift one of her legs to rest on his shoulder, his lips pressing a kiss to the inside of her ankle. The bed posts were hitting the wall so hard her nightstands were shaking just like her legs were. Her hands were once more locked in the sheets, her eyes rolling back with every thrust. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck - yes,” she couldn’t stop the few tears that rolled down her cheeks. He was enamored with the way she looked - naked, beautiful, his tags jingling every once and a while when he gave a particularly hard thrust. He was using her leg as leverage to fuck her even harder.

“That’s it baby, come on, you’re doing so well for me. You heard? You’re my good girl.”

She let out a moaned sob that was interrupted by a particularly hard thrust, “Yes, lieutenant, wanna be y’good girl.”

He cooed at her, “Look at you, can’t even talk right cause I’m fucking you so well. If you wanna be my best girl, show me what you cumming around my cock would feel like.”

She reached her hand down to rub her clit, but he swiped her hand away, placing it back on the bulge that was protruding, pushing down on her hand so that she was pushing down on it. It was like a damn had broken, her entire body seized up, tightening every muscle as he continued to thrust home, watching her eyes disappear behind her eyelids, her mouth opened in a shattered moan of his name mixed with “yes”es and “thank you”s. He had to hold her leg to keep it from shaking off of his shoulder. The way she was squeezing him was enough for him to feel his own high approaching.

He gently let her leg down, planning to pull out and cum into his shirt that he had discarded, but Ivy clearly had different plans. Her hands grabbed her tits, massaging them together. “Make me pretty, lieutenant. Please, please, make me pretty. Wanna be covered in you.”

“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me.” But he couldn’t deny he wanted to see it too. He stroked himself a couple of times, looking at her fucked out state beneath him, her tongue out to catch anything that made it that far. With a groan as she begged him once more for his cum, he finished onto her torso. Ropes of his cum covered from her lower belly to a few drops on her tongue. Most of it landed on her tits, and by proxy, his tags. She made sure to keep eye contact with him as she lifted the metal and licked his cum off of them, humming as she did so. She dipped a finger in cum on her chest, dipping it into her mouth as she moaned around her own finger at the taste of him. “So good, lieutenant, You made me so pretty. Only you can make me pretty like this.”

He dove back in for another kiss which started heated, but eventually turned deeper, both of them trying to show the other how much they enjoyed what just happened. When she pulled away for air, he kissed the tear tracks on her cheeks and climbed off the bed, picking her up and leading her to the bathroom. He sat her on the edge of the bathtub as he started to fill it up, not trusting her legs to keep her upright while they showered. While it was filling, the sound of the running water and the intense orgasms had her in a dreamy state, her head resting on the arm he was using to keep her up. Once the water was high enough and hot enough, he helped her get in and sit down, cupping his hand to take some water, directing her to swish it and spit it out so that her mouth wasn’t a desert anymore.

“Get in,” her sleepy voice let out.

He kissed her forehead, “Gotta make sure you’re taken care of first. Come back to Earth with me, sweet girl.” He continued to coax her out of the haze she was in, bringing her back to coherent thinking.

He then cupped the hot water over her shoulders before standing and climbing in behind her. It was awkward for him due to his size, but eventually they were able to settle into a comfortable state. Jake continued to cup water over her shoulders, making sure to keep her warm, massaging her shoulders and thighs every once and a while to release any tension as he soaped her body. When he finished washing her hair, he noticed how limp she was. Looking down, he was met with her asleep figure. Sensing that was her body trying to tell him she wanted her bed, he finished washing himself before waking her up and getting her out, wrapping her in a towel and sitting her in her chair in the corner. He wrapped his own towel around his waist, stripping the sheets and having her direct him to where there was another set. He made the bed as she was cuddled up in the towel, her hair dripping beads of water down her shoulders.

Jake pulled himself back into his sweat bottoms, foregoing the shirt for now, rubbing the water out his hair with the towel before disposing of it with their clothes heap. He helped her into a standing position, grabbing a pair of underwear for her to change into, turning away as she did so.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen everything.” She let out a laugh that turned into a yawn.

He turned back once he heard the drawers close, but instead of seeing her in one of her oversized sleep shirts he was so accustomed to, he instead saw her in the white Hanes t-shirt she had nearly torn off his body earlier. He couldn’t help the way his eyes traced her figure - wet hair, no pants, his shirt, sleepy smile. She went to give his tags back, but he shook his head, “Not yet.”

“Come on,” she nodded towards the bed, getting into one side as he got into the other. He reached over and pulled her into his chest, placing a kiss on the top of her wet hair, his fingers absentmindedly scratching up and down her bicep. She listened to his heartbeat as she reached her hand out to intertwine with his fingers. “I said ‘fuck me’ not ‘ruin any man for me ever again.’”

She felt his chest rise with the laugh he let out. “Oh sweet girl, if another man who isn’t me touches you, I’ll kill him.”

She hummed a laugh, sitting up on her elbows, one eyebrow raised, “Lieutenant Seresin, is this you asking me out?”

“Though that was clear, baby,” She leaned down to kiss him before laying back onto his chest; his thumb rubbed over her arm again. “But two things.”

“Yes?”

“One: if you call me lieutenant, you can’t be upset if I try to jump your bones immediately. Two: don’t call me Seresin unless you plan on letting me call you Mrs. Seresin.”

Ivy bit her lip to stop her laugh, “Yes, sir, lieutenant Seresin.”

139 notes · View notes

modestcage · 18 days

Note

cewche cewchie cooooo🤗🤗🤗🤗

A young man stands in his bedroom. It just so happens that today, the 13th of April, 2009, is this young man's birthday. Though it was thirteen years ago he was given life, it is only today he will be given a name!

What will the name of this young man be?

Your name is JOHN. As was previously mentioned it is your BIRTHDAY. A number of CAKES are scattered about your room. You have a variety of INTERESTS. You have a passion for REALLY TERRIBLE MOVIES. You like to program computers but you are NOT VERY GOOD AT IT. You have a fondness for PARANORMAL LORE, and are an aspiring AMATEUR MAGICIAN. You also like to play GAMES sometimes.

What will you do?

Your ARMS are in your MAGIC CHEST, pooplord!

Out of sympathy for John's perceived lack of arms, you pick up the CAKE for him and put it on his BED.

You retrieve your FAKE ARMS from the chest. You use these for HILARIOUS ANTICS.

You CAPTCHALOGUE them in your SYLLADEX. You have no idea what that actually means though.

There are other items in the chest.

In here you keep an array of humorous and mystical ARTIFACTS, each one a devastating weapon in the hands of a SKILLED MAGICIAN or a CUNNING PRANKSTER.

You are neither of these things.

Among the ARTIFACTS are: TWO (2) FAKE ARMS [CURRENTLY CAPTCHALOGUED IN YOUR SYLLADEX], ONE (1) PAIR OF TRICK HANDCUFFS, ONE (1) STUNT SWORD, ONE (1) MAGICIAN'S HAT, ONE (1) PAIR OF BEAGLE PUSS GLASSES, SEVERAL (~) SMOKE PELLETS, SEVERAL (~) BLOOD CAPSULES, and ONE (1) COPY OF COLONEL SASSACRE'S DAUNTING TEXT OF MAGICAL FRIVOLITY AND PRACTICAL JAPERY, and ONE (1) COPY OF HARRY ANDERSON'S "WISE GUY", BY MIKE CAVENEY.

Some of this stuff may come in handy at some point. For now, you decide to just take the SMOKE PELLETS.

You stow the SMOKE PELLETS on one of your CAPTCHALOGUE CARDS in your SYLLADEX.

You still aren't totally sure what that means, but you are starting to get the hang of the vernacular at least.

You have two empty CAPTCHALOGUE CARDS remaining.

You aren't totally sure if "EQUIP" is a verb copasetic with the abstract behavioral medium in which you dwell, but you give it a try anyway.

Unfortunately, you cannot access the FAKE ARMS! Their card is underneath the one you just used to captchalogue the SMOKE PELLETS. You will have to use the pellets first in order to access the arms. But this is probably unadvisable, since you'd just make your room lousy with smoke!

Your SYLLADEX'S FETCH MODUS is currently dictated by the logic of a STACK DATA STRUCTURE. You were never all that great with data structures and you find the concept puzzling and mildly irritating.

But with any hope, perhaps you will advance new, more practical FETCH MODI for your SYLLADEX with a little more experience.

Is it even possible to get any more hard boiled than that? You really doubt it. This poster was one of your wisest purchases.

There is a nice spot on the wall next to it. You've been meaning to hang another poster there soon.

This note is rich with the aromas of FATHERLY AFTERSHAVES AND COLOGNES.

Beside the note is a ROLLED UP POSTER.

Another BIRTHDAY ARTIFACT. You wonder what is printed on the poster.

You'll need some way to hang it on your wall.

You first place the HAMMER into your SYLLADEX.

But now all of your CAPTCHALOGUE CARDS are full. You wonder what will happen if you try to take the NAILS?

You guess it doesn't hurt to try.

You captchalogue FOUR (4) NAILS into the top card, and push all the ARTIFACTS down a card.

The FAKE ARMS are pushed entirely out of the deck!!!

Oh well. They're probably completely useless anyway. But you probably don't want to do that again, unless you want to drop the SMOKE PELLETS and suffer the consequences.

In any case, you now feel like you have gathered enough things to get down to business and do some really important stuff. The next thing you do will probably be exceptionally meaningful.

This is the dumbest idea you've had in weeks!!!

STUPID STUPID STUPID.

And yet the polished surface of your desk...

It beckons.

You MERGE the top two cards.

The HAMMER and NAILS are now captchalogued on the same card and can be used together.

You use the HAMMER and NAILS card IN CONJUNCTION with the card beneath it.

You use the HAMMER, NAILS, and POSTER on the blank space on the wall.

It's glorious. Exactly what you wanted. The old man really came through this time.

PUT THE BUNNY BACK IN THE BOX.

I SAID, PUT THE BUNNY BACK IN THE BOX.

WHY COULDN'T YOU PUT THE BUNNY BACK IN THE BOX?

Morgan Freeman's genteel, homespun mannerisms were perfect qualities for a president residing over a crisis.

OCEANS RISE. CITIES FALL. HOPE SURVIVES.

WOW.

Films about impending apocalypse fascinate you. Plus, a black president??? Now you've seen everything!

You've marked your birthday, the 13th of April. Another day you marked was supposed to be the arrival date for the highly touted SBURB BETA LAUNCH.

It's been three days already. It's starting to become a sore subject with you.

You are sick to death of cake!!! You've been eating it all day. And you have no intention of clogging your SYLLADEX with it either. The CAKE stays put for now.

You hear a notice from your COMPUTER. Someone is messaging you.

You pull up to your COMPUTER. This is where you spend most of your time. You decorated your desktop with some rather handsome WALLPAPER which you made yourself. You are really proud of it.

Your desktop is also littered with various PROGRAMMING PROJECT FILES. You are so bad at programming sometimes you wonder why you even bother with it.

Your PESTERCHUM application is flashing. Someone is trying to get in touch with you.

Only one of your CHUMS is logged in. He's sent you a message.

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 16:13 --

TG: hey so what sort of insane loot did you rake in today EB: i got a little monsters poster, it's so awesome. i'm going to watch it again today, the applejuice scene was so funny. TG: oh hell that is such a coincidence i just found an unopened container of apple juice in my closet it is like fucking christmas up in here EB: ok thats fine, but i just have one question and then a word of caution. have you ever seen a movie called little monsters starring howie mandel and fred savage? TG: but TG: the seal on the bottle is unbroken TG: are you suggesting someone put piss in my apple juice at the factory EB: all im saying is don't you think monster howie mandel has the power to do something as simple as reseal a bottle? EB: try using your brain numbnuts. TG: why did the fat kid or whoever drank it know what piss tasted like TG: i mean his reaction was nigh instantaneous EB: it was the 15th day in a row howie mandel peed in his juice. TG: ok i can accept that TG: monster B-list celebrity douchebags are cunning and persistent pranksters TG: also fred savage has a really punchable face TG: but who cares about this lets stop talking about it TG: did you get the beta yet EB: no. EB: did you? TG: man i got two copies already TG: but i dont care im not going to play it or anything the game sounds boring TG: did you see how it got slammed in game bro???? EB: game bro is a joke and we both know it. TG: yeah TG: why dont you go check your mail maybe its there now EB: alright.

You see the view of your yard from your window.

Hanging from the tree is your TIRE SWING. In a kid's yard, a tree without a tire swing is like a proper gentleman without a monocle. That is to say, HE CAN HARDLY BE CONSIDERED A TERRIBLY PROPER GENTLEMAN AT ALL.

And there beside your driveway is the mailbox.

The little red arm-swingy-dealy thing or whatever it is called is flipped up!

What the hell is that thing called anyway. You do not have time for these semantics. The red flippy-lever thing means you have new mail. And that means the beta might be here!

You are about to hurry down stairs when you hear a car pull into the driveway. It looks like your DAD has returned from the grocery store.

Oh great. He is beating you to the mail.

If you go down stairs to get it, he will likely monopolize hours of your time. You decide to chill out up here for a while until the dust settles.

Sometimes you feel like you are trapped in this room. Stuck, if you will, in a sense which possibly borders on the titular.

And now your chum is pestering you again. The clockwork of friendship turns ceaselessly, operating the swing-lever dealies of harassment in perpetuity!

Whatever. The dude can just hold his damn horses.

You've put countless manhours into this assortment of quality titles.

You decide to consult with the Colonel's bottomless wisdom. Good grief this thing is huge. It could kill a cat if you dropped it.

But to really dig into this hefty book, you will have to captchalogue it. You are not sure you are ready to logjam your other ARTIFACTS beneath it just yet.

What did you just say?? You don't want to clog up your...

Oh, Jesus. In a momentary lapse of concentration, you accidentally captchalogue the arms again.

You don't think the situation is quite dire enough to go all the way to "RANCOROUS", but you still feel the PESTERCHUM client should reflect your mood change in some way.

"BULLY" will have to do. You guess.

This unsurprisingly does nothing whatsoever.

Oh, right, you forgot your chum is still pestering you.

TG: is it there TG: plz say yes TG: maybe you can play with TT shes been pestering me all day about it TG: shes mackin on me so hard all the time i start to feel embarrassed for her TG: i mean not that i can blame her or anything EB: yes, it is understandable because you are really attractive. i am attracted to you. TG: thank you EB: jk haha. EB: no, i don't have it yet. EB: my dad has the mail and i guess i have to go get it from him and see if it's there. EB: and i've been busy spending all afternoon shitting around with my stupid sylladex. EB: it's so frustrating. TG: whats your modus EB: what? TG: how do you retrieve artifacts from it EB: oh. like one at a time i guess. and if i put too much in, something falls out. TG: stack?? hahahahahaha EB: what is yours? TG: hash map TG: my bro taught me a few tricks he basically knows everything and is awesome EB: what the hell is that? TG: you should probably brush up on your data structures EB: i guess. TG: did you at least allocate your strife specibus EB: no. TG: it could free up a card for you TG: plus let you attack stuff whenever things get too hot to handle TG: which is never TG: what have you got EB: well, i've got a hammer but it's trapped under some arms. TG: wow you really suck at this dont you TG: just get rid of the arms and then allocate the hammer to the specibus EB: how? TG: i dont know just use the arms on any old thing and see if it works

You stick the FAKE ARMS in the CAKE on your bed.

This definitely makes the CAKE at least 300% more hilarious. You're sure COLONEL SASSACRE would know the precise index of elevated hilarity.

You check the back of your STRIFE SPECIBUS for the KIND ABSTRATUS you have in mind for it.

Your STRIFE SPECIBUS has been ALLOCATED with the HAMMERKIND ABSTRATUS.

The HAMMER has been moved from your CAPTCHALOGUE DECK to your STRIFE DECK.

EB: ok, i did it. TG: hammerkind? EB: yeah. TG: ok that will be the permanent allocation for your specibus TG: i guess i should have mentioned that EB: uh... TG: hope you like hammers dude! EB: yeah, that's fine i guess. i can't imagine it's going to be all that relevant.

Now that you've got some space in your SYLLADEX to work with, you figure you might as well start squandering it immediately.

Ordinarily this ridiculous book would be way too heavy to carry around in any practical way. You guess maybe this is one respect in which the cards present some convenience.

It might come in handy if you ever need something that burns easily.

You expend your final card on the MAGICIAN'S HAT.

You don't have a free card in your SYLLADEX!

However, you are able to MERGE the BEAGLE PUSS with the MAGICIAN'S HAT to create a CLEVER DISGUISE.

John? Who is this "John" you speak of? You are quite certain there has never been, nor ever will be...

Yeah, this is a really shitty disguise.

While you are wearing the items, they remain on the card, but it is temporarily removed from the deck, thus freeing up the cards beneath it.

You exit into the HALLWAY.

On one wall hangs a picture of a fella who sure knows how to have a laugh, a man after your own heart. You always thought he looked a lot like Michael Cera. But your DAD swears on the many HALLOWED TOMBS of Egypt that it is not. You're not sure about that though.

On the other wall is one of your DAD'S stupid clowns. Or HARLEQUINS, as he is quick to correct anyone who would venture such brazen assumption.

The accursed odor of fresh baking wafts into your newfound nostrils. Something is brewing in the KITCHEN. It must be the connivings of your arch nemesis, BETTY CROCKER, and the rich, buttery aroma of her plot stinks to high heaven.

This mission is going to be more difficult than you imagined.

You check out the shelves of FANCIFUL HARLEQUINS.

Look at this fucking garbage. You hate this stuff. Funny is funny, but your DAD sure can be a real cornball.

Sometimes at night you pray for burglars.

A bright orange flame flickers in the FIREPLACE. It doesn't matter that it's April and not terribly chilly outside. In a home, a FIREPLACE needs a fire, because that's what FIREPLACE is for. A fire BELONGS in a FIREPLACE, dammit, cata(ptcha)gorically, at all times, without exception.

As domestic myth of unaccountable origin holds, a home borrows the spirit of the flame for as long as it makes a guest of it, much as the moon takes liberty with the sun's rays.

"The moon's an arrant thief, and her pale fire she snatches from the sun." -Mark Twain

You are almost certain Mark Twain said that.

It doesn't burn as quickly as you hoped.

Each GAMEBRO MAGAZINE is guaranteed to be printed on 40% recycled asbestos. For big ups to Mother Earth, yo.

You examine the SACRED URN containing your departed NANNA'S ASHES.

When your father gives her portrait a wistful glance now and then, you can tell it brings back painful memories. A tall bookshelf. A ladder. An unabridged COLONEL SASSACRE'S.

He never wants to talk about it.

#cage talks #kyyuuuy

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shouldershimmycity · 2 years

Text

Brother Knows Best (Rooster x Sister Reader)

"Hey! I absolutely loved your latest fic! Is there anyway I could request a reader who is Roosters adopted teenage sister she’s like 16 or 17 and he has custody over her.

Maybe she gets involved with a older guy who is around 19 or 20 and Rooster has a huge problem with it and starts a fight because he is so over protective and can see that he is bad news, and the reader sneaks out that night and runs away to the guy but ends up getting hurt and Rooster and maybe Maverick find her and she apologizes and it’s just a cute sibling moment.

I would love if you could write this but I also completely understand if you can’t!! Thanks in advance!!!"

FIRST OF ALL, YES I CAN ABSOLUTELY WRITE THIS!

SECOND OFF ALL, I LIKED THE IDEA TOO MUCH TO NOT WRITE IT TONIGHT SO MERRY CRISIS/CHRYSLER/CHRISM TO YOU DEAR ANON! *MWAH!* I KNOW IT'S KIND OF SHORT BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!

TW: Assault, swearing, and being drunk

*****

You were tuning out your older brother. He was in the middle of scolding you for something you didn’t care about. He was too uptight, being a military man. You on the other hand, were the complete opposite. You weren’t even related to Bradley by blood, which explained so much about the differences between you two.

Carole Bradshaw adopted you when you were six, and she died when you were ten. You loved her to death, but it made you upset to think about her when you ended up with him. Bradley was such a friggin’ control freak and it drove you up the wall. You looked over to find Bradley staring at you, waiting for a response.

“Sooooooo are we done?” you asked him, the boredom dripping from your tone. Bradley made a face that was something between frustration and just giving up.

“You’re not seeing Jared again. He is seven years older than you! You are seven-fucking-teen!” he ordered.

“You joined the fucking Navy when you were eighteen, I’m basically an adult, Bradley!” you shouted back. He looked around and threw his hands up in the air.

“I got a JOB, when I was eighteen, I didn’t date a MINOR!” he countered.

You rolled your eyes and walked upstairs, Bradley shouting after you. FUCK he was so annoying. You slammed your door for good measure, and turned to read the text message that had caused your phone to ding.

“Hey baby, we still on for tonight?”

You texted Jared back with zero hesitation, wanting nothing more than to piss your brother off again.

“Hell yeah. Do you have my fake ID for me?”

‘“Course babe. Can’t fuck shit up without one.”

You turned your phone off and grinned like the Cheshire cat.

Excellent.

*****

Bradley sat on the couch, flipping through the TV blankly. Maybe he was too hard on you. He knew you had been given the crappy cards, crappier than his. But he just wanted you to be safe, that’s all he needed to know. He sighed and turned the TV off, it was nearing eleven thirty at night and Bradley wanted to try and have a civil conversation with you so he could sleep alright tonight.

He trudged up the stairs and knocked on your door lightly. You didn’t answer. He looked at the bottom of your door. Lights are on. He turned the knob and the door creaked open quietly. The pilot stuck his head into your room to peer around. SHIT. He pushed the door open all the way and looked chaotically around your empty room. He opened your closet to make sure you weren’t hiding from him, and he looked around maybe six times until he realized he was just spinning in circles.

Ripping his phone out of his pocket, he called the only person who knew you better than Bradley did.

“Maverick, my sister snuck out, and I think she ran off with that dickhead boyfriend,” he explained quickly.

“Any idea where they might have gone?” he asked, putting his shoes on in the background.

“None, maybe a bar? She wouldn’t go to the Hard Deck, Penny knows her. God, Mav, I have no idea,” he said, his words rushed and nervous. Maverick was quiet on the line for a second, and Bradley waited for the older man to answer him.

“Let me make some calls.”

*****

You were on the beach, sitting in the bed of your boyfriends truck. There was a bonfire going while Jared and his friends drank all the liquor your group of “friends” had collected. You were drunk, but not as drunk as Jared.

Jared was going on a very loud tirade about how all military men were a bunch of cowards and bitches. It was starting to make you uncomfortable. You often got pissed off by your brother, but he was a hero for all the shit he’s done and gone through. Don’t even get started on Maverick. You would defend your uncle until the day you died. You were starting to want to leave.

You saw it before you heard it, what with traveling faster than the speed of sound. An F/A-18 flew in a low pass past the beach, and you smiled a little. Late night training. Jared, on the other hand, threw a bottle into the air, with the hope he could hit the aircraft that only a drunk man could have.

“FUCK! OFF!” he slurred, shouting. Alright, enough was enough. You got out of the bed of his truck, hopping down to talk to Jared.

“Jared, I’m ready to go now,” you stated. He gave you a sneer.

“I’m not going anywhere yet,” he said. You stared back at him.

“But I want to leave now,” you said, trying to reason with him. You didn’t like Jared when he was like this, drunk off his ass.

He turned to look at the rest of the group, who were glaring at you, then backhanded you across the face so hard you fell into the sand. His rings had cut your face in a few places and you stared at him in shock.

You stood back up shakily and he punched you in the gut, knocking the wind out of you. You looked at your boyfriend with wild eyes, unsure why he was doing this. He slapped you once more and this time you didn't stick around. You were, literally, pounding sand. You ran into the dark night, unsure of where you were going to go.

You needed your brother.

*****

“They’re down by the beach, I had some late night trainees see if they could find his truck anywhere public they might be,” Maverick said, hanging up his cellphone.

Bradley’s phone began to buzz and he answered it before he could even read the caller ID.

“Hello?” he asked, frantic.

“Rooster, I just saw your sister come into the Hard Deck about five minutes ago. She was looking for you, man. She’s got some cuts and bruises on her face,” Bobs voice filled the other end of the line, full of concern, “I tried to make it over to her but she left and I couldn’t find her.”

“Bob! You’re the best!” Bradley hung up his phone and grabbed his keys. On the way out to his Bronco he told Maverick the information Bob had relayed to him.

The drive to the Hard Deck was about ten minutes, and Rooster gripped the wheel like his life depended on it. He was so concerned with finding you, it left the question of what Jared had done to you unanswered. Was Jared looking for you too? Were you in danger? Rooster was so caught up in his thoughts that Mavericks cry of surprise made him jump.

“There she is!” he shouted, pointing you out. Bradley pulled over and his headlights showed in your face. You squinted and prepared to bolt, scared that Jared found you and wanted to kill you or something.

Then you heard your brother and Maverick call your name, Bradley walking out from behind the bright lights.

“Bradley!” you sobbed, running into your brother's arms. You hugged him so tight he could take 9Gs of force and say awake.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again! Oh my god are you hurt?” He pulled you away to look at your face. Bob was right, you were super banged up. “What happened? Did he do this to you? I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

You hugged Bradley again, sobbing loudly, and he just cradled you, rubbing your back and telling you it was all gonna be okay.

“I’m so sorry Bradley,” you cried, pulling away, “I should have listened to you, the guy is a FREAK!” You hugged your brother again.

He didn’t care whether or not he was right or wrong, but he was right. He wasn’t going to ever vocalize it to you, but he just stood there, appreciating the fact that you were safe in his arms, his baby sister.

*****

“Bradley!” you shouted.

“Will you hold on just one second!? God you are so impatient!” he complained across the house.

You sat in front of the TV with the remote in your hands, as Bradley walked in with two bowls of ice cream. You laughed, then looked at him with the most intense deadpan stare that you could muster.

“Bradley, is the ice cream in your hands, fudge brownie?” you demanded.

“What else would it be?” he asked, concerned.

“Thank God,” you smiled. Bradley shook his head at your antics, handing you your sundae.

“You forgot my sprinkles, fucker.”

“Get them yourself.”

“If I ask for sprinkles, I expect sprinkles Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw!”

“Just press play.”

“Okay.”

#rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw x reader #topgunmaverick

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creativitysparks4everxoxo · 10 months

Text

Elena Wallace: An Appreciation Post

**Transformers: ROTB spoilers ahead**

Okay! Let's talk about how ABSOLUTELY AMAZING Elena Wallace is in this movie! I've talked about Noah & Mirage quite a bit, but I absolutely CANNOT forget about our queen Elena! I barely see any posts for her and it's CRIMINAL!!!!!!!! Let me go fix that real quick!

There is no order. This is just a spontaneous list of all the reasons why I love Elena. 😊

I like that she's not just some side character. No, SHE CAME IN WITH THE KNOWLEDGE! She knew her shit and she was very resourceful! She knew info that even the Autobots didn't know!!!

I like how inquisitive she is. She saw a new artifact come in at work and she was immediately drawn to it and wanted to learn more about it. She did her own research on her OWN TIME on the markings engraved on the artifact/transwarp key, and I love that! Her boss really had the audacity to take credit for her work and ignored her when she wanted to be apart of the team that would be working on unlocking the history behind the artifact/transwarp key. But nah, she still found a way to learn more about it. You go girl!

Literal hand writing! I love love LOVE how quick she was to record information! The way she quickly started writing down markings on her hand in pen when the door to the lab technician room slammed in her face. Yes! You write those markings, girl! We ain't done! Or when her and Noah were in the underground ancient temple in Peru and she was writing down markings on her hand again. Yes!

I like that Elena took it upon herself to protect the transwarp key with her life. She didn't even understand its significance yet, but she was already ready to protect it when she first met Noah. She wasn't even scared at all, she really decked him HARD in the face to protect it! Like damnnn! 🤣 And the little rapid side step fake out thing she did with him was absolutely HILARIOUS! I can't! 🤣🤣

I love that Elena isn't a harmful stereotype and wasn't thrown into some harmful trope. No, she got to exist and be unapologetically black while still being such a likable character. Representation is SO important and it's nice to see black characters shine in sci-fi media and be apart of the adventure. Growing up, I've always dreamed of seeing characters like Elena take on main roles in a sci-fi show/movie, and in a Transformers show/movie and get to be friends with the robots. I'm so glad that characters like Elena exists. What a time to be alive! 🥺

Elena's love for history and artifacts was a nice touch. She's an artifacts researcher/history nerd and I am so here for it! And that little dinosaur sticker on her car! Cute! 🥰 I like that she was essentially the team's well of knowledge, in the sense that she immediately knew where the location for the second half of the transwarp key is, and she knew what the second half of the code is when Primal thought it died with Airazor. She really said, "I got this!" and it was go time! She had her little notebook of info at the ready and seeing all the notes, sketches and markings that she jotted down was cool.

NAVIGATING THROUGH HIGHLY ADVANCED ALIEN TECHNOLOGY LIKE A BOSS!!! Like excuse me, what??! Elena was able to figure out how to use the control panel during the final battle with ease. My anxiety could never! She navigated through a control panel that had so many different alien symbols to flip through AND it was a multi functioning panel that had a lot going on. But that did not stop her, nope, nope, nope! She got down to business, figured it out quick and entered the codes!!! 👏🏾

I like how connected Elena is to Airazor. From the moment she first laid eyes on the new artifact in the museum that resembled Airazor, to the moment she first laid eyes on Airazor, is just beautiful. She was mesmerized by her and it really showed! And their interactions throughout the movie is just **chef's kiss** 🤌🏾 Especially the scenes when Elena was concerned for Airazor's health after Scourge left his "mark" on her wing that inevitably led to her demise. You could feel how much Airazor's death affected Elena. 😔 FUCK YOU, SCOURGE!!!! Andddd hearing that there was supposed to be a scene in the movie where Elena jokingly says to Airazor, "I bet you make bots turn their necks when you fly by.", only for Airazor to respond with, "I did know to shake a tail feather or two." AHHHHHHHHH!!!! WE WERE ROBBED!!! 😡😡😡😡

Elena coming on the mission, despite looking very fearful at first is very admirable. She probably knew in her heart that she was destined to be apart of the mission, and she wanted to help save two worlds. Absolutely amazing! And the scene when she talks about her father and how fond she is of him is beautiful. "If you keep your eyes and ears open, life will show you everything you need to know." I love that line so much! 👏🏾

I like that Elena isn't an overly sexualized love interest for Noah, or assigned to him because he has a massive crush on her, like how Mikaela was with Sam in the 2007 Transformers movie. I know some people ship these 2 hard and I don't mind one bit (Noah/Elena shippers, do your thang! ✌🏾), but it was just nice to see a female character not be thrown into the love interest role for the main human character in a Transformers movie.

Elena became very close to Noah because they were the only humans on the Stop Unicron Team and they were actively working together to stop Unicron from destroying their home planet. But their relationship throughout the movie was giving me very strong sibling vibes.

We already know that Noah is a family man and his relationship with his little brother Kris is so wholesome! He loves his little bro so much! 🥺🥺 So seeing Noah be so protective of Elena throughout the movie was giving me that same sibling energy and it was really wholesome to watch!!! The way he would quickly grab her and step in front of her to protect her from danger, or the way he helped her down that dangerous ass entrance to the ancient underground temple, or gently drag her away to safety, or blast at anything that even attempted to attack her, or warn her about imminent danger, or how he made sure she was okay after a corrupted Airazor attacked her, and how he gently pushed her curls to the side, etc. Just ahhhhh! Their interactions were so GECICWHCICCEJCJ!!!! 😍

However...if you want to talk about Anthony Ramos and Dominique Fishback's interactions during their interviews together, then yeah, they're cute af!!!! 👀 Anthony was continuing to channel his inner Noah and was still holding onto those protective tendencies with Dominique, and I just found that absolutely adorable. 🥺

A happy, happy, SUPER HAPPY ENDING FOR ELENA!!! I really like that Elena FINALLY got recognition for her work at the end of the movie. I was so happy when I saw that ending scene! 😭

Okay! I think I covered everything I wanted to say about Elena and how she is an absolute queen, and how she is making my inner girl smile from ear to ear. If you read everything I just said, you are awesome! Thank you! 😘

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killmongerskeeper · 1 year

Text

Her Heart // Chapter 6 // Shuri

Pairing: Shuri x POC Reader

Warnings: Angst // Blood // Mentions of death // Violence // Trauma // Fighting

Author's Note: Alot of ya'll wanted chapter 6 so here it is! I would like to apologize in advance.

Chapter 5 // Chapter 7

You tried to pick the lock to the room as you noticed the guard was not there. You heard a couple of grunts and the sound of a thud before you backed away from the door. You shielded the queen and her child from any danger before a familiar face appeared. "Namora?" She easily broke the door off of its hinges before she walked up to the pair of you.

"K'uk'ulkan, táan u pa'atik ti' le uláak' extremo le cheemo'."

(K'uk'ulkan is waiting at the other end of the ship.)

"The Wakandans are on the upper deck preparing for a fight. You should go to them. I'll escort the queen and K'uk'ulkan's heir to safety." She said to the queen who had a weak smile on her lips. You nodded before Namora held out her hand for you to take. "Thank you. Y/N of Wakanda." You nodded before dashing up the stairs leading to the deck.

You watched with wide eyes as the fake Shuri held a scowl on her face as your beloved Shuri stepped off of the royal jet. "Welcome princess. It truly is an honor."

You could practically see the rage radiating off of her. You had only seen this once. When the queen mother passed on. You stood frozen as the fake Shuri turned her attention to you. "You just couldn't follow directions." She shouted but you had a feeling it was directed to you. She turned her body in your direction and Shuri quickly jumped to plant herself between you.

"Your fight is with me." She sneered before the waves began slapping against the side of the ship with a strong force. You looked to see Namor land on the ship with anger across his own features. "Me as well."

This doppelganger was clearly not affected in any way. Her lips held a smirk before Namor rushed in to fight. The two came to blows and you were amazed at how she matched his energy during the fight. While the imposter's attention was elsewhere Shuri turned to you with her hands on your face. Her eyes scanned you over. Looking at every bruise, cut, and scrape tainting your brown skin. "Are you alright, sthandwa?" You nodded slightly before she rested her forehead against your own. "I'm so sorry. I should’ve listened to you. I’m so stupid!"

"Shhh not now. You have a fight to win my love." You smiled and it was her turn to nod. "I'll be right here." She turned to the fight before her and her mask materialized. She jumped into the fight and you caught sight of two guards approaching you from behind. You stood your ground and held a fighting stance watching them circle you. You dodged one of their punches before sending a punch to his gut and an elbow to his throat. The second grabbed your arms so you jumped to kick him away. You quickly stomped down on his neck before turning back to the fight unfolding. You looked over to see the fake backed into a corner before she held up a small device, flipping the switch the boat slightly shook and Shuri's suit began to bug out. Coming off in small spots not giving her full protection.

"Can't fight without the whole suit huh? Shame?" She stated and Shuri scoffed.

"I do not need a suit to fight you."

"No, the suit is to protect you. Right, your highness?" She grinned and you noticed a red beam aimed at her exposed side. Your body moved on its own before your mind could react as you dashed towards her. You grabbed her shoulder before the both of you fell to the ground with her arms around your waist for her to take the force of the fall. Nakia moved in and fired her weapon into the fake Shuri’s back and watched as she fell to her knees. She turned to her side ready to reprimand you for tackling her when her eyes moved to her now red stained hand. Shifting your hand away from your side to reveal the wound you protected her from.

"Sthandwa?" She mumbled softly as your eyes stared back at her. You groaned when she picked up to hold you close to her.

"Y/N! Baby why did you do that?!" She screamed and Namor took down the fake. He held her down as Nakia and Okoye rushed to her side, having seen the whole thing. The armed sniper was taken down by Attuma who managed to sneak behind as Nakia put her kimoyo beads to yours.

"It seems Ms. Y/N is no longer healing." Griot said as Nakia watched with wide eyes and Shuri was on the verge of a breakdown. "Without proper medical attention she might not make it."

“What? No. No no no. No. NO! Why not? Baby your powers aren’t working. I need you to heal up for me okay. Please heal up.”, She cried and you swallowed the blood in your mouth. She tried to use her hand to stop the bleeding. You just stared up at her as she tried to stop the tear rolling down her cheeks. "I'm supposed to bring you home. Please sthandwa. Don't leave me." The princess didn't even notice Amera and Namor standing off to the side. The Talokan queen didn't want to believe you were dying. But she didn't know what else to do. You have stuck your neck out for her and her unborn child. The least she could do was be by your side. To bring comfort to you and Shuri.

She kneeled down next to you as she held her baby to her chest. "We're gonna get you help Y/N. You're going to be okay." Shuri looked up at her and she gave a small smile letting her know she was there for her. For you.

"We will bring in the fake for questioning. But right now we have to get Y/N back for medical attention." Okoye stated as Namora dragged fake Shuri onto the jet. Shuri gathered you in her arms and ran to the jet where Ayo was prepared to fly them all home.

"I'll come with you." Amera said as she held onto her son who was now squirming in her grip. She followed the panther into the jet as Namor and his army trailed behind by sea. Shuri never took her eyes off of you as you stared up at her face. Her eyes held many things. Hope. Pain. Fear. Shuri couldn't lose you. She couldn't. After her mother, you became the last person to really know her. You knew her strengths. Her weaknesses. Her fears. Her secrets.

"Usana. You're going to be alright. I promise." She mumbled as you wiped a tear away.

"Don't cry my love." You groaned as she held you. You rested your head against her chest, listening to her heartbeat. The sound was melodic. It calmed you. Pulling you to shut your eyes and rest. "I love you." With those three words you fell unconscious and she started to cry harder.

"Hurry. You'll be okay. I promise." Her words were broken into small hiccups as the jet approached the river border. Soon after the jet reached the palace where medical staff were waiting with a stretcher for the wounded. She carried you to them before lying you down gently. "Please save her. Save her. Please." By now she sounded like a broken record, praying for you to be saved.

"We will do everything we can, your highness." With that they took you away to begin the process of saving your life. Shuri turned to the jet where Okoye was dragging the unconscious enemy out.

"Take her to the throne room. Wait for me there." They walked away from the landing deck with sad faces as Shuri stood in her place. She used the moment of silence to calm her nerves as she took a deep breath. Her eyes closed and her hands hanging at her side. She looked up at the sky trying her best not to fall to her knees in this moment of vulnerability. "Mother." She shut her eyes as the wind blew past her face. "I know you and brother would take great care of her. But please. Don't let the ancestors take her. Not yet. I can't lose her now." Taking a deep breath her eyes fluttered open before making her way to the throne room. Nakia stood by the door waiting before stopping Shuri in her tracks. "You should be with Y/N. We can take it from here."

"Nakia please. I have to do this. I need to know why they went after Y/N in the first place. You go be with her. If anything happens, promise me you'll come tell me."

Nakia opened her mouth to speak but no words came out so she just nodded. "I will." The two split ways and she entered the room where Okoye and Ayo stood over a body.

"Princess. You should see this." Okoye said and Shuri approached to see a man lying on the floor. "Where is the fake?"

"This is her. Or was. She shifted into this colonizer a couple of minutes after being here." The guard responded and Shuri scoffed.

"He's a mutant?" Shuri leaned down to look him over and a tattoo caught her eyes. Crossbones over a snake. "I know this tattoo. Y/N used to tell me stories about the enemies she's faced while being a wardog. She mentioned this specific tattoo." Shuri felt her stomach drop and chose to ignore it.

"So if he was defeated by Y/N before. This could be retaliation. Poor choice on his end considering all the trouble he's caused. Not just with you but with Talokan as well." Ayo stated with her spear in her hand.

"Wake him." She slammed the bottom of her weapon against the floor and he snapped awake. "Some fucking trip."

"Why?" That one word was the only thing Shuri asked and his eyes found her own. He stared up at her as he clenched his jaw not wanting to seek out his meal ticket. "I will not ask again." He could tell how angry she was by the way her chest heaved and her nostrils flared.

"It was a paid job. Me and your little wardog had some unfinished business so I took it. Paid well. Wasn't expecting the bitch to take a bullet for you though." A sharp punch landed on his cheek and he fell backwards hitting the floor.

"Don't you dare speak of her like that. Not while I'm here." She commanded and he spit blood from his mouth onto the floor. She motioned for the Dora Milaje to leave the room before unleashing her anger and punching him across the room. "Griot."

"Yes princess?"

"What's Y/N's heart rate?"

"Stable princess, but I do think you should be with her."

"I will. After I deal with him." She stomped over to the man before kicking him in the gut. His body landed on the other side of the room from the force of her kick and she was on him again. Only this time she was knocking the living daylights out of him. Every punch she dished out was for each time he hurt you. Because he took you. He made you whimper in pain. He inflicted all those bruises on your beautiful skin. Everything in the outside world was drowned out by Shuri's anger. Last time she felt like this you were the one to pull her back to reality. But it's different now. She stood over this man with a deadly aura as she balled her bloodied fists.

"Shuri." Nakia's voice called out and Shuri wouldn't let up. "Shuri!" The panther turned to face her with a few blood splatters on her cheek.

"I won't kill him yet."

"My queen…." She closed her mouth as looked down to her feet to prepare herself. Her eyes found Shuri's and the panther's body went rigid. Nakia had tears threatening to spill as she stood in the door. "Y/N is…" She stopped mid sentence and all the fury Shuri felt dispersed "She is with the ancestors now."

#black panther shuri #shuri x reader #shuri x you #poc reader #wakanda forever #shuri black panther #shuri udaku #queen shuri #shuri fanfiction #shuri fic #princess shuri #black panther 2 #her heart fic

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skiddlecat · 8 months

Note

Homestuck 13/04/09 SBURB BETA

What will the name of this young man be? Enter name. 13/04/09

ZOOSMELL POOPLORD

TRY AGAIN, SMARTASS Try again. 13/04/09

✓ JOHN EGBERT Examine room. 13/04/09

What will you do? John: Quickly retrieve arms from drawer. 13/04/09

Your ARMS are in your MAGIC CHEST, pooplord! Remove CAKE from MAGIC CHEST. 13/04/09

Out of sympathy for John's perceived lack of arms, you pick up the CAKE for him and put it on his BED. John: Quickly retrieve arms from MAGIC CHEST. 13/04/09

captchalogue x2

You retrieve your FAKE ARMS from the chest. You use these for HILARIOUS ANTICS.

You CAPTCHALOGUE them in your SYLLADEX. You have no idea what that actually means though.

There are other items in the chest. John: Examine contents of chest. 13/04/09

captchalogue x2

Colonel Sassacre's DAUNTING TEXT OF MAGICAL FRIVOLITY AND PRACTICAL JAPERY

Harry Anderson's WISE GUY

In here you keep an array of humorous and mystical ARTIFACTS, each one a devastating weapon in the hands of a SKILLED MAGICIAN or a CUNNING PRANKSTER.

You are neither of these things.

Some of this stuff may come in handy at some point. For now, you decide to just take the SMOKE PELLETS. John: Captchalogue smoke pellets. 13/04/09

sylladex::captchalogue deck

You stow the SMOKE PELLETS on one of your CAPTCHALOGUE CARDS in your SYLLADEX.

You still aren't totally sure what that means, but you are starting to get the hang of the vernacular at least.

You have two empty CAPTCHALOGUE CARDS remaining. John: Equip fake arms. 13/04/09

You aren't totally sure if "EQUIP" is a verb copasetic with the abstract behavioral medium in which you dwell, but you give it a try anyway.

Your SYLLADEX'S FETCH MODUS is currently dictated by the logic of a STACK DATA STRUCTURE. You were never all that great with data structures and you find the concept puzzling and mildly irritating.

But with any hope, perhaps you will advance new, more practical FETCH MODI for your SYLLADEX with a little more experience. John: Examine Problem Sleuth Poster. 13/04/09

Is it even possible to get any more hard boiled than that? You really doubt it. This poster was one of your wisest purchases.

There is a nice spot on the wall next to it. You've been meaning to hang another poster there soon. John: Read note on drawer. 13/04/09

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SON.

I AM SO PROUD OF YOU.

This note is rich with the aromas of FATHERLY AFTERSHAVES AND COLOGNES.

Beside the note is a ROLLED UP POSTER. John: Take poster. 13/04/09

Another BIRTHDAY ARTIFACT. You wonder what is printed on the poster.

You'll need some way to hang it on your wall. John: Acquire hammer and nails. They will come in handy. 13/04/09

You first place the HAMMER into your SYLLADEX.

But now all of your CAPTCHALOGUE CARDS are full. You wonder what will happen if you try to take the NAILS?

You guess it doesn't hurt to try. John: Take nails. 13/04/09

You captchalogue FOUR (4) NAILS into the top card, and push all the ARTIFACTS down a card.

The FAKE ARMS are pushed entirely out of the deck!!!

Oh well. They're probably completely useless anyway. But you probably don't want to do that again, unless you want to drop the SMOKE PELLETS and suffer the consequences.

In any case, you now feel like you have gathered enough things to get down to business and do some really important stuff. The next thing you do will probably be exceptionally meaningful. John: Squawk like an imbecile and shit on your desk. 13/04/09

This is the dumbest idea you've had in weeks!!!

STUPID STUPID STUPID.

And yet the polished surface of your desk…

It beckons. John: Combine the nails and hammer. 14/04/09

You MERGE the top two cards.

The HAMMER and NAILS are now captchalogued on the same card and can be used together. John: Use hammer/nails on poster. 14/04/09

You use the HAMMER and NAILS card IN CONJUNCTION with the card beneath it. John: Nail poster to wall. 14/04/09

FRED SAVAGE HOWIE MANDEL

little monsters

You use the HAMMER, NAILS, and POSTER on the blank space on the wall.

It's glorious. Exactly what you wanted. The old man really came through this time. John: Examine Con Air poster. 14/04/09

CAGE CUSACK

A JERRY BRUCKHEIMER PRODUCTIONThe most dangerous criminals in the world are about to take flight. Only one man can stop them.

CON AIR

PUT THE BUNNY BACK IN THE BOX.

I SAID, PUT THE BUNNY BACK IN THE BOX.

WHY COULDN'T YOU PUT THE BUNNY BACK IN THE BOX? John: Examine Deep Impact poster. 14/04/09

DEEP IMPACT

Morgan Freeman's genteel, homespun mannerisms were perfect qualities for a president residing over a crisis.

OCEANS RISE. CITIES FALL. HOPE SURVIVES.

WOW.

Films about impending apocalypse fascinate you. Plus, a black president??? Now you've seen everything! John: Examine calendar. 14/04/09

APRIL

10: BETA! [x] 13: ☺

You've marked your birthday, the 13th of April. Another day you marked was supposed to be the arrival date for the highly touted SBURB BETA LAUNCH.

It's been three days already. It's starting to become a sore subject with you. John: Eat cake. 14/04/09

Alert : ▪ ▪ ▪

You are sick to death of cake!!! You've been eating it all day. And you have no intention of clogging your SYLLADEX with it either. The CAKE stays put for now.

You hear a notice from your COMPUTER. Someone is messaging you. John: Examine incoming message. 15/04/09

[SYSTEM]

[TYPHEUS]

[PESTERCHUM]

[pff.^CAKE]

[FUCK FUCK FUCK.^CAKE]

[AAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH.~ATH ]

[ACTUATE] [PESTERCHUM] | 04/13 16:13

You pull up to your COMPUTER. This is where you spend most of your time. You decorated your desktop with some rather handsome WALLPAPER which you made yourself. You are really proud of it.

Your desktop is also littered with various PROGRAMMING PROJECT FILES. You are so bad at programming sometimes you wonder why you even bother with it.

Your PESTERCHUM application is flashing. Someone is trying to get in touch with you. John: Open Pesterchum. 15/04/09

PESTERCHUM 6.0

CHAT CLIENT

CHUMROLL : ☺ turntechGodhead

tentacleTherapist

gardenGnostic [PESTER!]

MYCHUMHANDLE : ☺ ectoBiologist

MOOD : ☺ CHUMMY ✓ ☺ BULLY ☺ PALSY ☺ PEPPY ☺ CHIPPER ☹ RANCOROUS

Only one of your CHUMS is logged in. He's sent you a message. John: Open message. 15/04/09

:: turntechGodhead ::

PESTERLOG :

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 16:13 --

TG: hey so what sort of insane loot did you rake in today

[PESTER!]

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 16:13 --

You see the view of your yard from your window.

And there beside your driveway is the mailbox. John: Examine mailbox. 15/04/09

The little red arm-swingy-dealy thing or whatever it is called is flipped up!

What the hell is that thing called anyway. You do not have time for these semantics. The red flippy-lever thing means you have new mail. And that means the beta might be here! John: Go outside and check mailbox. 15/04/09

You are about to hurry down stairs when you hear a car pull into the driveway. It looks like your DAD has returned from the grocery store.

Oh great. He is beating you to the mail. John: Forget it. Check mail later. 15/04/09

Alert : ▪ ▪ ▪

If you go down stairs to get it, he will likely monopolize hours of your time. You decide to chill out up here for a while until the dust settles.

Sometimes you feel like you are trapped in this room. Stuck, if you will, in a sense which possibly borders on the titular.

And now your chum is pestering you again. The clockwork of friendship turns ceaselessly, operating the swing-lever dealies of harassment in perpetuity!

Whatever. The dude can just hold his damn horses. John: Examine games on CD rack. 16/04/09

BARD QUEST

THE CAPER HAVERS

PROBLEM SLEUTH

AND IT DON'T STOP

GHOSTBUSTERS II MMORPG

KONAMI little monsters (Original Nintendo Seal of Quality)

HARRY ANDERSON CALL MY BLUFF

You've put countless manhours into this assortment of quality titles. John: Read COLONEL SASSACRE'S DAUNTING TEXT. 16/04/09

Colonel Sassacre's

DAUNTING TEXT OF MAGICAL FRIVOLITY AND PRACTICAL JAPERY

You decide to consult with the Colonel's bottomless wisdom. Good grief this thing is huge. It could kill a cat if you dropped it.

But to really dig into this hefty book, you will have to captchalogue it. You are not sure you are ready to logjam your other ARTIFACTS beneath it just yet. John: Captchalogue fake arms again. 16/04/09

What did you just say?? You don't want to clog up your…

Oh, Jesus. In a momentary lapse of concentration, you accidentally captchalogue the arms again. John: Set Pesterchum status to "bully". 16/04/09

☺ turntechGodhead

You don't think the situation is quite dire enough to go all the way to "RANCOROUS", but you still feel the PESTERCHUM client should reflect your mood change in some way.

"BULLY" will have to do. You guess.

This unsurprisingly does nothing whatsoever.

Oh, right, you forgot your chum is still pestering you. John: Answer chum. 16/04/09

:: turntechGodhead :: PESTERLOG :

You stick the FAKE ARMS in the CAKE on your bed.

This definitely makes the CAKE at least 300% more hilarious. You're sure COLONEL SASSACRE would know the precise index of elevated hilarity. John: Allocate hammer to strife specibus. 16/04/09

kind abstrata

pizzactrkind batkind rollpinkind plungerkind yoyokind scissorkind peprsprykind chainsawkind crowbarkind broomkind pokerkind icepickkind golfclubkind [hammerkind] jumpropekind shovelkind hatchetkind spoonkind statuekind spatulakind scrwdrvrkind bladekind pistolkind lampkind stungunkind ballkind rakekind plankkind glovekind

forkkind canekind curlironkind chainkind knifekind tablelegkind shotgunkind needlekind peprmillkind dumbbellkind hckystckkind vacuumkind mopkind trophykind fncysntakind ladlekind cordkind ironkind sawkind cleaverkind iceskatekind wrenchkind umbrellakind plungerkind hosekind bookkind bustkind spadekind pipekind

nailgunkind hairdyrkind lcrsstckkind thrwstarkind tongskind razorkind fireextkind branchkind bowlgpinkind bombkind woodwindkind staplerkind riflekind sandlstkkind paddlekind bowkind barbwirekind dartkind marblekind plierkind fireworkkind chiselkind aerosolkind shoekind pippetkind fankind brasskind rockkind scythekind

You check the back of your STRIFE SPECIBUS for the KIND ABSTRATUS you have in mind for it. John: Select "HAMMER". 16/04/09

captchalogue x1

strife specibus

sylladex::strife deck hammerkind

Your STRIFE SPECIBUS has been ALLOCATED with the HAMMERKIND ABSTRATUS.

The HAMMER has been moved from your CAPTCHALOGUE DECK to your STRIFE DECK. John: Report progress to TG. 16/04/09 EB: ok, i did it. TG: hammerkind? EB: yeah. TG: ok that will be the permanent allocation for your specibus TG: i guess i should have mentioned that EB: uh… TG: hope you like hammers dude! EB: yeah, that's fine i guess. i can't imagine it's going to be all that relevant. John: Captchalogue Colonel's big book. 17/04/09

Now that you've got some space in your SYLLADEX to work with, you figure you might as well start squandering it immediately.

Ordinarily this ridiculous book would be way too heavy to carry around in any practical way. You guess maybe this is one respect in which the cards present some convenience. John: Examine GameBro Magazine. 17/04/09

GAME BRO SBURB Why the "Game of

the Year" or whatever isn't as good as some other stuff I like that's better.

John: Read article. 17/04/09

GAME BRO FEATURE

SBURB

So ok.

SBURB is this game that a lot of cats seem hella pumped of. And this beta is sitting on my desk for review, so I'm like, yeah man I'll write something.

But I don't know. I'm like, so this is about houses or some noise? That's fine, I'm sure that's like fucking dynamite in a handbag for some brosephs. But all I'm saying is, when do you get to thrash anything? While you're playing house or some shit, are you ever in jeopardy of getting mud on your doll's dress or whatever from busting out, and I quote, "the mad stunts all wicked up-ins"?

Know what I'm saying, Bro-Yo Ma? I didn't actually play this game, but I gave it 1.5 hats out of 5 hats to keep it real.

At this point I'd like to give a shout out to my boy Dennis who was over the other day. We were going to chill in front of The Dark Knight and he was so psyched of it y'all.

So this one time he was leaning against the screen door and the shit popped open, and the back deck was wet and he slipped down the steps and broke his thumb on the lawn. It wasn't a long fall, but hey I guess a thumb bone wasn't made for supporting the brunt of a huge useless tool against wet grass. We never did watch Dark Knight on account of Ron truck- ing his bawling candy-ass girth to the hospital.

But it's cool, I still got another watch in me, Brotel Rwanda.

BRO-NOTES : Dennis was so wasted, ha ha. I mean damn.

Rating for : SBURB [*] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]

John: Captchalogue GameBro. 17/04/09

It might come in handy if you ever need something that burns easily. John: Captchalogue magician's hat. 18/04/09

You expend your final card on the MAGICIAN'S HAT. John: Get funny glasses too. 18/04/09

You don't have a free card in your SYLLADEX!

However, you are able to MERGE the BEAGLE PUSS with the MAGICIAN'S HAT to create a CLEVER DISGUISE. John: Wear disguise to fool dad. 18/04/09

John? Who is this "John" you speak of? You are quite certain there has never been, nor ever will be…

Yeah, this is a really shitty disguise.

While you are wearing the items, they remain on the card, but it is temporarily removed from the deck, thus freeing up the cards beneath it. John: Leave room. 18/04/09

You exit into the HALLWAY.

On the other wall is one of your DAD'S stupid clowns. Or HARLEQUINS, as he is quick to correct anyone who would venture such brazen assumption. John: Go downstairs. 18/04/09

This mission is going to be more difficult than you imagined. John: Admire harlequins. 18/04/09

You check out the shelves of FANCIFUL HARLEQUINS.

Look at this fucking garbage. You hate this stuff. Funny is funny, but your DAD sure can be a real cornball.

Sometimes at night you pray for burglars. John: Examine fireplace. 18/04/09

As domestic myth of unaccountable origin holds, a home borrows the spirit of the flame for as long as it makes a guest of it, much as the moon takes liberty with the sun's rays.

"The moon's an arrant thief, and her pale fire she snatches from the sun." -Mark Twain

You are almost certain Mark Twain said that. John: Toss GameBro into fire. 18/04/09

It doesn't burn as quickly as you hoped.

Each GAMEBRO MAGAZINE is guaranteed to be printed on 40% recycled asbestos. For big ups to Mother Earth, yo. John: Fondly regard cremation. 18/04/09

You examine the SACRED URN containing your departed NANNA'S ASHES.

When your father gives her portrait a wistful glance now and then, you can tell it brings back painful memories. A tall bookshelf. A ladder. An unabridged COLONEL SASSACRE'S.

He never wants to talk about it. John: Topple urn. 18/04/09

You clumsily mishandle the SACRED URN. Ash is everywhere.

In retrospect, upon mulling cinematic tropes regarding ash-filled urns, this outcome was a virtual certainty.

You'd probably better clean it up before DAD finds it. John: Combine father's pipe with clever disguise. 18/04/09

You think now would be a good time to beef up your CLEVER DISGUISE. John: Examine oversized gift. 18/04/09

CHAMP.

YOU CAN DO ANYTHING IF YOU PUT YOUR MIND TO IT.

I BELIEVE IN YOU.

Contemplating what could be inside this package is sort of exciting, but it makes you a little nervous at the same time. John: Open large present. 18/04/09

Oh hell no. John: Captchalogue ashes. 19/04/09

First you prop the HARLEQUIN DOLL up on the couch. Having it in the middle of the floor sprawled out all akimbo like that struck you as unseemly.

You captchalogue the ASHES to your available card. John: Combine ashes with urn. 19/04/09

You merge the SACRED URN with the ASHES.

Most of the ASH is back in the URN, but it's a total mess. Really it probably would have been tidier if you just used a broom and dustpan. John: Put urn back. 19/04/09

No one will be the wiser.

Except maybe for people with eyes. John: Go get fake arms again. 19/04/09

Alert : ▪ ▪ ▪

You just got another BRILLIANT idea for something to do with those pointless arms. You pry them out of the CAKE and captchalogue them.

Looks like PESTERCHUM is acting up again. John: Examine 3rd and 4th walls of room. 19/04/09 John: Check Pesterchum. 19/04/09

☺ tentacleTh…

Another one of your chums is messaging you. John: Check message. 19/04/09

:: tentacleTherapist :: PESTERLOG : -- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 16:26 --

TT: I understand you have recently come into possession of the beta release of "The Game of the Year", as featured in respectable periodicals such as GameBro Magazine.

TT: I understand you have recently come into possession of the beta release of "The Game of the Year", as featured in respectable periodicals such as GameBro Magazine. EB: that's an ugly rumor. EB: whoever told you that is a filthy liar. EB: and you should probably stop hitting on him all the time or whatever. TT: I can't control myself. TT: I must have a weakness for insufferable pricks. EB: anyway i still haven't checked the mail, my dad has it. EB: i'm trying to go get it from him, so brb TT: John. EB: what? TT: You're wearing one of your disguises now, aren't you? TT: You are typing to me right now while wearing something ridiculous. EB: no, why would you even think that?? EB: that's so stupid. TT: Ok. TT: Why don't you go get the game from your father? EB: alright, wish me luck. EB: oh, btw… EB: jk I was wearing a funny disguise this whole time. EB: gotcha! hehehehe TT: I know, John. John: Go back downstairs. 19/04/09

You can now execute that brilliant idea you had.

There should be just enough FROSTING on the FAKE ARMS to serve as an adequate adhesive. John: Attach arms to doll. 19/04/09

Hehehehehehehehe.

You don't care what COLONEL SASSACRE says, that makes it AT LEAST a million percent funnier. John: Inspect burnt paper on the floor. 20/04/09

BROBLERONE

(ADVERTISEMENT)

You put this back in the fire where it belongs. John: Throw present wrap in fire. 20/04/09

As long as you're cleaning up… John: Captchalogue doll. 20/04/09

You can carry hefty items, but that thing is just way too big. Get real!

Besides, you don't even want it. John: Read Colonel Sassacre's text. 20/04/09

COLONEL

FROM GEO SOULEGEL(?)

3? & 40 CENTRE ST, NEW YORK No 2078 INS. $20.00 per 1000 net 5? 5th AVE. CHICAGO, ILL No 2079 OUTS. 0.00

ALSO BLANK

THE CREEPY-CRAWLIES!

Hell's bells, we are having a mighty sporting time of it!

Hold fast my intrepid fellow prank- smiths! We've merely nicked the mahogany of our japing chests.

If I may direct the incisive ogle of your beagle puss to the wriggling regency of rubber bugs, plastic parasites, squirming serpents, pliable pests, and every such order and phyla of creepy-crawlie!

Land sakes alive, we are cooking with petrol now!

In further exhibits we shall dwell on artifice useful to your exploits. Is your pappy's rod and reel handy? What about a bit of iron cord; it shouldn't prove elusive. Bring those wriggling rascals to life, and set the nerves of some old maid to the wreck of Hesperus!

Do you have a bothersome aunt who never seems troubled to find ways with your sunny afternoon hours? A board, splintery fence - a bucket of whitewash perhaps?

By gum you'll fix her wagon!

And what of that tawny gent who puts his lackadaisical lean near the sarsaparilla font? You'll have that listless octoroon find the spring in his step just yet!

You thought about consulting the text to determine exactly how hilarious the doll is now.

But this text is way too big to navigate in a timely fashion. You decide to forget it. John: Find dad and retrieve mail. 20/04/09

The door on the left leads to the KITCHEN, from which the smell of baking wafts -- a powerful aroma which could lift an especially portly hobo off his feet.

The door on the right leads to the STUDY, where your DAD spends a lot of time.

He could be in either room. Where will you go? John: Go in the study. 21/04/09

It doesn't look like he's in here right now. John: Examine father's desk. 21/04/09

THE SERIOUS JESTER

On the desk is a DECK OF PLAYING CARDS, one of your DAD'S PIPES, the April issue of THE SERIOUS JESTER magazine, and a stray CAPTCHALOGUE CARD.

There is also a CAN OF PEANUTS on the desk. Ha ha, oh DAD. You won't be falling for THAT one again any time soon.

A severe peanut allergy is a terrible affliction to cope with. John: Upgrade costume with hat from hat rack. 21/04/09

You swap the MAGICIAN'S HAT with the BOWLER HAT.

This disguise is somewhat less funny, but A LOT more distinguished looking. John: Combine second pipe with clever disguise. 21/04/09

Your DAD maintains numerous pipes around the household. A father without a pipe is like a strapping roughneck without a toothpick. That is to say, HE IS A RATHER PISS-POOR EXCUSE FOR A ROUGHNECK IF YOU ASK ME.

You'd rather not take the PIPE, though. The first one tastes bad enough as it is.

How you suffer for your comedy. John: Examine captchalogue card. 21/04/09

THE SERIOUS JESTER

Yes!!! This will be perfect for expanding the space in your SYLLA… John: Captchalogue captchalogue card. 21/04/09

ARGH!!! [S] John: Play haunting piano refrain. 21/04/09

(Pages including sound will be preceded by [S] in the command.) John: Play 52 Pick-Up. 22/04/09

You play the prankster's favorite card game, even though you are alone in the room, thus rendering it an especially foolish version of Solitaire.

SO STUPID. Look at this mess.

The peanut gallery over there sure is getting a kick out of it. You are allergic to their scorn. John: Attempt to leave the house. 22/04/09

Hi-C ECTO COOLER

You go back into the LIVING ROOM and contemplate checking the mailbox outside. You think perhaps you should exhaust all possibilities before plunging headlong into a DAD encounter.

Your TELEVISION is currently airing a COMMERCIAL. John: Exit. 23/04/09

You exit the house. John: Check mail. 23/04/09

Predictably, the mailbox is empty. You have already been scooped by your father. [S] ==> 24/04/09

HOMESTUCK

The streets are empty. Wind skims the voids keeping neighbors apart, as if grazing the hollow of a cut reed, or say, a plundered mailbox. A familiar note is produced. It's the one Desolation plays to keep its instrument in tune.

It is your thirteenth birthday, and as with all twelve preceding it, something feels missing from your life. The game presently eluding you is only the latest sleight of hand in the repertoire of an unseen riddler, one to engender a sense not of mirth, but of lack. His coarse schemes are those less of a prankster than a common pickpocket. His riddle is Absence itself. It is a mystery dispersing altogether, like the moon's faint reflection, with even one pebble of inquiry dropped in its black well. It is the most diabolical riddle of all.

"Absence diminishes little passions and increases great ones, as wind extinguishes candles and fans a fire." -Walt Whitman

Yes, you are certain Walt Whitman said that. One hundred percent positive.

You have a feeling it's going to be a long day. ==> 24/04/09 John: Leave a surprise for the mailman. 24/04/09

N…

No! John: See if your father left the mail in the car. 24/04/09

The door is locked and your DAD has the CAR KEYS. You peer in through the driver's side window.

You don't see any mail, but you do see a GREEN PACKAGE. There is also something underneath it that looks like a slip of paper.

Could these items have come in the mail? You don't see anything else that's usually in the mail, like bills and coupons. Maybe your DAD forgot to take this stuff inside. John: Spy in the kitchen. 24/04/09

You try to get a gander through the KITCHEN WINDOW, but you can't see a whole lot! It seems your DAD has been doing so much baking, the glass has steamed up.

God he is so weird.

But you can see what's on the table just beside the window. It looks like the mail is there! Included among it is a RED PACKAGE, some BILLS, your DAD'S PDA, and an envelope that appears to be suspiciously labeled with the SBURB LOGO. Could it be???

Unfortunately, the window is locked. John: Go back into the kitchen. 24/04/09

You have no other choice. You are going in.

CLEVER DISGUISE, it's time to work your magic. [S] John: Enter. 27/04/09 ==> 27/04/09

JOHN: !

Your DAD sees right through your costume! You don't know what you were even thinking with this foolish ruse!!!

You unequip the CLEVER DISGUISE. Your DAD wields a dreaded ARTIFACT OF CONFECTION. He stands between you and the mail.

There is only one way to settle this. [S] STRIFE! 28/04/09

STRIFE!

AGGRIEVE: AUTO-PASTRY! ABJURE: GUARDIAN RUBRIC: CODDLEBRAND DOTESMITE!

John: Retrieve the package and flee to your room! 29/04/09

ABSCOND

You cannot ABSCOND! This pesky GUARDIAN is blocking your path! You will need to engineer some sort of distraction.

And now he brandishes yet another ARTIFACT OF CONFECTION! The man is ruthless.

You'd better brace for impact in the most comedically striking fashion possible. John: Equip disguise for defense. 29/04/09

BEAGLE AEGIS

The BEAGLE AEGIS absorbs the brunt of the treat. Looks like DAD will enjoy the prankster's gambit on that exchange, as is usually the case. John: Captachalogue pie tin. 29/04/09

You take PIE TIN and unequip the BEAGLE PUSS.

Everything in your SYLLADEX is pushed back a card. The SMOKE PELLETS are ejected from the deck.

Yes! This could be just the distraction you were… ==> 29/04/09

Nothing happens.

What a huge letdown. John: Take the cake! 29/04/09

AGGRIEVE ABJURE [> ACCEDE] ABSCOND

"When two great forces oppose each other, the victory will go to the one that knows how to yield." -Oscar Wilde

Wise words by a man who likely could resist everything but temptation.

The CAKE forces COLONEL SASSACRE'S TEXT out of your SYLLADEX. ==> 29/04/09

Sassacre you beautiful bastard.

Now's your chance!!! John: Abscond. 30/04/09

Now that DAD is busy placating the SMOKE DETECTOR, you can safely sneak away. John: Take PDA. 30/04/09

You snag your DAD'S PDA. Maybe later you'll switch the background image to something hilarious as a prank. Besides, it may come in handy later.

Your spare CAPTCHALOGUE CARD is forced out of the SYLLADEX, and consequently integrated with the deck. You now have five cards to work with. John: Take package. 30/04/09

This RED PACKAGE is addressed to you. John: Take envelope. 30/04/09

You got the SBURB BETA!!! John: Exit kitchen. 30/04/09 John: Get cake on couch. 01/05/09

You captchalogue the CAKE on the couch, expelling the PIE TIN from the bottom card. John: Combine the cakes to make a double decker cake. 01/05/09

You then merge the two CAKES across all five cards.

Everything in your SYLLADEX is smushed between the CAKES. Why don't you think these things through first?? John: Retreat upstairs! 02/05/09

You pause at the juncture and head down the hall. You are going to need something to clean up the mess you are about to make by dissecting this CAKE.

To the left is the BATHROOM. To the right is your DAD'S ROOM. It is locked, and you are forbidden from ever entering. He has secrets. John: Go to bathroom and grab a towel. 02/05/09

You enter the BATHROOM. You can see your BACK YARD from the window. The jewel in its crown is the SWING SET which has provided you with years of joy. There is also a SPRING-MOUNTED POGO-RIDE, which has been responsible for more than one painful injury, and has provided you with years of lament.

On the sink is your DAD'S RAZOR. On the rack to the side is a FRESH TOWEL. John: Remove PDA, envelope and package from cake. 02/05/09

You take the RAZOR and use it to perform surgery on the CAKE.

You take the TOWEL and clean off the extracted goods. John: Retrieve your items. 02/05/09

The items force the MANHANDLED CAKE into the TOILET.

And just like that, your SYLLADEX is full again. God this thing is annoying. John: Go to bedroom. 02/05/09

Alert : ▪ ▪ ▪ Alert : ▪ ▪ ▪

John: Admire "Failure to Launch" poster. 03/05/09

Jodie Fo… Matthew McConaug…

A TIME TO KILL

matthew mcconaughey sarah jessica parker failure to launch

You're not usually into chick-flicks, but Matthew McConaughey's cool charisma could salvage any heap of smoldering wreckage.

This is your "McConaughey Wall", a casual shrine to an amazing actor. The film above that one is a lot better, you think.

CAN YOU SEE HER? I WANT YOU TO PICTURE THAT LITTLE GIRL. [chokes up] NOW IMAGINE SHE'S WHITE.

You got us Matthew! Your smooth talking exposed our latent racism! Damn you are good! [S] John: Check Pesterchum. 03/05/09

☺ gardenGno… ☺ turntechGo…

-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 16:34 --

GG: hi happy birthday john!!!!! <3 GG: helloooooo?? GG: ok i will talk to you later!!! :D

-- gardenGnostic [GG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 16:56 --

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 16:40 --

TG: hey GG is looking for you why are you even so popular all of a sudden TG: is today some sort of special occasion or something TG: did you do something to curry favor with ladies TG: did you break your leg on a puppy or some shit TG: dude what are you doing -- turntechGodhead [TG] is now an idle chum! -- EB: i discovered a comet that is going to destroy the earth, and it was named after me. EB: now i am famous, and everyone wants to talk to me a lot. TG: no stop TG: just no TG: dont talk about your awful stupid movies or make references to them TG: your gross man-bro crush on matt macconahay is an unsavory thing to behold EB: mcconaughey. TG: sounds like a noise a horse would make TG: ie dumb TG: equally dumb are all those pictures of that clown youve got hanging up EB: those are my dad's. TG: i was talking about nick cage EB: oh, what?! no man, cage is sweet. so sweet. TG: ha ha so lame TG: you dont even like him ironically or anything this is like for real isnt it TG: hahaha EB: i do things ironically sometimes. EB: what about what i sent you for your birthday? TG: no those are awesome EB: what? no, they're stupid, which was the joke. the IRONIC joke. get it? EB: wait… EB: you're actually wearing them, aren't you? TG: im wearing them ironically TG: because theyre awesome TG: the fact that theyre ironic makes them awesome TG: and vice versa TG: are you taking notes on how to be cool?? jesus get a fucking pen EB: you do realize they touched stiller's weird, sort of gaunt face at some point. TG: ew yeah TG: oh well TG: anyway speaking of which TG: did you get the mail EB: yeah. TG: did there happen to be a package there EB: yeah, there's a big red one. TG: you should probably open it EB: i would, but it's trapped under the sburb beta, so i will probably open it after i install the beta. TG: oh man the beta came EB: yeah! wanna play it? TG: haha no way EB: why not! TG: it sounds so HELLS of boring just get TT to play it she is all about that EB: where'd she go. TG: her internet is blinking in and out i guess TG: probably be back online soon TG: oh and christ in a sidecar are you still using the stack modus??? TG: seriously dude TG: you need to BONE UP on your data structures that shit is just ridiculous EB: ok, i will. John: Open browser and go to mspaintadventures.com 04/05/09

TYPHEUS BOOKMARKS ▸ ADDRESS : http://www.mspaintadventures.com GO!

MS MAP | LOG | SEARCH | FAQ || SAVE | LOAD || SHOP | EXTRAS || FORUMS | CONTACT | ANDREW

MSPAINT ADVENTURES

You decide to space out on the computer for a while before doing anything important.

You open the TYPHEUS web browser and direct it to what is indisputably the most amazing website ever created. ==> 04/05/09

ADDRESS : http://www.mspaintadventures.com?s=3

MSPAINT ADVENTURES

Midnight Crew

You are members of a sinister gang called the Midnight Crew. Your nefarious plots are serpentine in their complexity. Your schemes, convoluted. You are planning a heist in your underground hideout.

What will you do?

The new adventure is ok, but you're not sure if you like it as much as the last one. John: Install the Sburb beta. 05/05/09

You decide it's time for less meta, and more beta.

You insert the CD and install the SBURB BETA. ==> 05/05/09

SBURB CLIENT

SBURB version 0.0.1

SBURB client is running.

Waiting for server to establish connection…

What the fuck is this. John: Bone up on data structures. 05/05/09

DATA STRUCTURES

discrete mathematics

^CAKE

~ath

DIS*

AUTOMATA

You go to your CLOSET, where you keep a lot of clothes and an array of handy COMPUTER PROGRAMMING GUIDES. John: Read Data Structures book. 05/05/09

"I think my rage just crapped its pants" -FUNNYUNCLE

DATA STRUCTURES for ASSHOLES By Buckminster Funnyuncle

Your ignorance just made me throw up a little. Get a clue, you computer-illiterate piece of shit.

FREE FETCH MODUS IN BACK!!!

You're not sure you really want to dig into this huge tome. It looks really boring. And kind of ornery.

Maybe you'll just check out that free modus instead. John: Get free Fetch Modus. 05/05/09

fetch modus FIFO queue

You turn to the back inside cover, where a free FETCH MODUS is included in a plastic sleeve.

This one is dictated by the logic of a QUEUE DATA STRUCTURE, operating on a "First In, First Out" method, rather than a "First In, Last Out" method of a STACK. John: Apply Fetch Modus to Sylladex. 05/05/09

Items captchalogued in your SYLLADEX are no longer immediately accessible. You can only use the item on the bottom card, and must wait for items on upper cards to be pushed back to it.

For instance, the RED PACKAGE is now inaccessible. You can only use the RAZOR at the moment.

This modus doesn't strike you as a significant upgrade to your previous one. In fact, it almost seems more inconvenient. You figure you might as well give it a chance though. John: Switch back to Stack Modus. 06/05/09

? fetch modus ? FILO stack ?

You suddenly wonder if this is even possible. You don't even remember if you ever had a physical card for the STACK MODUS.

You find this all to be a little abstract and you'd prefer not to think about it too much. John: Put down razor. 06/05/09

Put it…

Down?

…

You're not quite sure you understand. John: Pick up two items. 06/05/09

You captchalogue one of the CAKES.

You've finally found a use for all these loitering pastries: DEAD WEIGHT. John: Get other cake. 06/05/09

matthew mcconaughey sarah jessica parker failure to launch

The second CAKE causes the RAZOR to launch out the front of your SYLLADEX.

Oh good lord.

THAT BEAUTIFUL FACE.

You wish the RAZOR would have failed to launch. John: Get more stuff. 06/05/09

You open your MAGIC CHEST and captchalogue one of your favorite books of all time, WISE GUY BY MIKE CAVENEY.

There goes the FRESH TOWEL. John: Might as well grab those cuffs. 06/05/09

You take the TRICK HANDCUFFS, expelling the PDA like a bullet. ==> 06/05/09

Oh God dammit. John: Open up that package! 07/05/09

TO : EB FROM : TG

You examine the package. It is from one of your internet chums.

It's bound in packing tape though. You'll need something sharp to open it.

Ah, of course! The RAZOR! It's all so simple, you wonder why you didn't… John: Get razor. 07/05/09

BONK

John: Pick up package again. 07/05/09

Let's take this from the top. John: Captchalogue glass shards. 07/05/09

CRASH

You take three GLASS SHARDS in quick succession and duck for cover.

Your SYLLADEX rains devastation on your room from above.

And now that your cards are packed with glass, you probably don't want to do that again any time soon. ==> 07/05/09

You should probably go get that stuff before you forget. John: Use the razor on the red package. 08/05/09

You open the package. There is something suspicious inside.

Something suspiciously dirty and smelly. ==> 08/05/09

It is a STUFFED BUNNY. Much like the one held hostage briefly by Malkovich's Cyrus "The Virus" while taunting hard-luck protagonist Cameron Poe. And strikingly similar to the one scooped up from the soot of a burning Vegas strip by Cage's Poe and offered to his daughter, a gesture symbolic of a tattered exterior surrounding a heart of gold. Poe wasn't much to look at. But he was a good man.

But no, it is not merely LIKE that bunny. According to this NOTE OF AUTHENTICITY, it is the VERY SAME BUNNY.

This is so awesome. John: Check status of Sburb beta. 08/05/09

Alert : ▪ ▪ ▪ Alert : (Sburb-logo)

It looks like your computer is trying to get your attention. John: Look at monitor. 09/05/09

SBURB CLIENT

SBURB version 0.0.1

SBURB client is running.

A SBURB host user is attempting to connect with you.

Client has established connection with host.

Press [ENTER] when ready.

[☺ tentacleT…]

John: Check Pesterchum window. 09/05/09

::tentacleTherapist::

PESTERLOG

-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 17:08 --

TT: It looks like you managed to retrieve the beta. Excellent. TT: I'm going to try to connect.

-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 17:08 --

TT: It looks like you managed to retrieve the beta. Excellent. TT: I'm going to try to connect. EB: whoa ok but i just got the most awesome present. TT: The rabbit? EB: SO SWEET. TT: I've heard tales of this wretched creature often. Its Homeric legend is practically ensconced in the fold of my personal mythology by now. EB: ha ha, what? TT: Why don't we focus on the matter at hand? EB: oh the game, ok. EB: i don't really know how this works. what am i even looking at here? TT: You are running the client application. I am running the server, so I am the host user. I have established a connection with you. This is sufficient for us to play the game. EB: oh, ok then. TT: Why don't we get started? John: Press [ENTER] 09/05/09 [S] ==> 09/05/09

WHO ARE YOU. WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU. FUCKING SHOW YOURSELF RIGHT NOW

#/silly obviously #WHAT THE FUCK MAN.

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