#(he was being a sad wet cat for a good age or two)

[lost-hope-but-funny]

when elrond dragged maglor to imlandis (because he fucking did), he shoved (gently) his father into a bathtub full of clean and warm water and dunked a shit ton of well-smelling soap for the bubbles

[gay-for-the-snz]

Baggage (M, cold, pt. 1/3)

So I decided I wanted to do something self indulgent, so here we are! rewinding back in time a bit--a decade, in fact!--to explore what brought him to the west coast, and his initial few days there, meeting coworkers and trying to decide who he wants to be with a fresh start

First chapter POV comes from his boss, second will come from him. Slight CW for the fact that the Captain definitely views him as like...basically a kid, and addresses him as such, including in narration, but he is 19 here and of age, so dw about it

[part 1, part 2, part 3]

⁂

The baggage claim of an airport is not the most exciting way he could be spending his Sunday morning--in the wee hours, no less--but the travel cup of coffee he'd hastily made in those bleary moments before making the drive is starting to seep into him enough to actually take effect. Bill's instructions for picking the whelp up had been exceedingly vague of who he was looking for--nothing more than that he was tall, long haired, and "impossible to miss." Scanning the crowd of people as they filter in and then back out, he's starting to doubt that this is necessarily the case. The flow of people has slowed enough that he doubts there can be that many left to make it here. Only a few lonely suitcases remain on the carousel, and they're rapidly being picked up.

He's rechecking the flight information when a figure awkwardly makes its way to grab the last suitcase, and--

Oh. Well, perhaps he owes Bill an apology. He is impossible to miss.

He's a gangling youth, easily six foot but probably a few inches above, with a braid that hangs down past his ass and the same awkward disposition he'd ascribe to a newborn fawn.

"You're Elliott?"

"Uh--yes! I mean--yes, that's me. You're Mr. Addington?" He extends a hand to shake, a bracelet of tattooed pansies encircling his wrist.

"You can call me 'Captain'."

"Oh! Right, I'll, uh--I'll do that." He doesn't really look at him, avoiding eye contact like the plague. It doesn't do anything to make the black eye less noticeable, but he supposes he can't fault him for trying. It looks like a nasty one, shades of deep blues and purples ringed by the greens and yellows of healing that's already on its way out.

He opts to tactfully leave it alone for now. He's had a long flight, and a stranger grilling him about what on earth happened that's making him pick up stakes and move cross country with a couple day's notice likely isn't the way he's going to earn his trust. He gets the distinct sense that he's going to have to coax him out like luring one of the warehouse cats out of hiding to take it to the vet.

"Well!" He startles at the sudden transition. "Is that everything, or are we still waiting on any bags?"

"This is it."

He keeps his expression carefully neutral as he takes in the sight before him, this bedraggled kid who's got a black eye and nothing to him but two suitcases. It's sad. More than that, it's actually heartbreaking. "Alright. Did you eat anything on the plane? I'm thinking about stopping somewhere on the way back, getting a little breakfast, if you're not opposed to stopping."

"I wouldn't stop you if you wanted to get yourself something."

It doesn't escape his notice that he hasn't answered the question. That beanpole probably weighs a hundred thirty soaking wet. He's going to feed him, whether he asks for something or not. "Good! There's a diner close to home that should be just about open by the time we get there."

He takes one of the suitcases, despite the fact that he was very much not asked to, and drags it a few feet before hefting it up to avoid the broken wheel that doesn't seem to actually turn. "Come on, then, let's see if I remember where I parked."

"Oh, are you--"

"You can relax, that was a joke. I'm not so old yet that I'm going to lose my car at the airport." Hopefully. He hasn't done it in awhile. It helps that he wasn't flying this time, just picking someone up, well before dawn's bothered to crack.

By the time they actually make it out to where he's parked, he's beginning to half worry that he actually did lose track of it, but relief washes over him at the sight of the old pick-up. She's a beat up old thing, but she's beautiful to him.

"She ain't the prettiest, but she's reliable. More than I can say for my ex-wife!" Shockingly, the joke doesn't land. He just shrugs. Worth a shot to break the tension. "Hop in, we'll be out of here soon."

Elliott is, if nothing else, compliant. Not much of a talker, but he looks dead on his feet, and sinks against the door as soon as he's buckled.

"We've got about an hour and a half drive, so feel free to close your eyes. Not much to see at this time of day--a new coast is great in the daylight, but all we'll be passing for awhile are headlights and highway." And he could probably use the sleep.

"Oh, no, it's fine. If I, uhm, sleep now I don't think I'll get any sleep tonight. I wanna see what I can see." He scratches at the back of his neck, and straightens his posture somewhat, like he can't be caught being tired.

"Suit yourself." The radio is playing something soft in the background, static blurring the sound of Creedence with a commercial for something he can't make out. He gives it a few minutes before he leans over, offers him a cigarette. "You smoke?"

"Uh, no, sir."

"Good! Don't start." He strikes the lighter, then gestures with it towards the cigarette already in his mouth. "Mind if I do?"

"It's your truck, and you're already doing me a huge favor."

He throws it in the center console for later. "Speaking of!" Elliott winces. "Bill doesn't usually stick his neck out for anyone--he must be awfully fond of you."

"Oh! Well, that's nice of him. I don't think that I really, uh, have earned it, though."

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen, sir."

"Nineteen! I remember being nineteen. Long time ago, mind you--I was probably nineteen before your parents were even born."

"Maybe..."

He's striking out hard, here. Usually it's a bit easier to get someone talking. "Well, whether you think he's a good judge of character or not, Bill thinks pretty highly of you to call me up and tell me that he's cashing in a favor like this. Said he had a real good kid that needed out of Virginia in a hurry. Said that you're a good worker." When Elliott doesn't respond, he just continues the conversation anyway. "Now he uh, didn't tell me where you're gonna be staying. You've sorted that out, I trust?"

"I don't need any help with that."

"So where is it?" He stares out the window, doesn't even attempt to glance back towards him. "That's what I thought, yeah. Alright, well, you're gonna be with me at least tonight until we've got you sorted out."

"I can't ask you to do that."

"Then it's a good thing you're not asking. I'm telling you." If he's got anything to say to that, he keeps it to himself, but he's clearly not thrilled by the prospect. He takes to braiding one of the locks of hair that frames his face, clearly an old hand at this the way his fingers deftly run through the motions.

There's few enough cars on the interstate at this hour that he feels comfortable letting his gaze linger on him in his peripheral, paying more attention to the kid in his passenger seat than to the road ahead of him. It's not a good habit, sure, but it's a calculated risk, and despite how he looks, he's always been pretty sharp when it comes to figures. The training of being in business, he supposes. It certainly hasn't hurt him.

"You got family out here?"

"No, sir."

"All back in Virginia, then?"

"I...guess, yeah. At least for now."

"Are they planning on falling you out here after you're settled?"

"God, I hope not." He crosses himself instinctively.

"Not a great relationship, I take it?"

"No, sir."

"You don't have to call me 'sir'. But I can sympathize--I've got some family up in Alaska, but not much anymore. Two sisters and a brother, and a host of nieces and nephews, and a couple of great-'s by now, even. No kids of my own, though--not that I'm complaining. I don't think it would've served fatherhood well to be gone most of the time."

"Could we--could we talk about something else?"

"Anything your heart desires."

"I think I might actually try and sleep. You were right--there's not much to see, and I-I'm kind of tired..."

He's squirrely, clearly dodging this topic in particular, but he's got enough sense to let the poor beast alone--for now, at least. He's gonna have to ask him later, both because he wants the gossip, but also because if he has to worry about whatever he's mixed up in, he'd like to know before anything happens. " 'course. You just get yourself a little shut-eye, and I'll wake you when we get there?"

"Thank you..."

He must be exhausted, because it's only a couple of minutes later that he's snoring softly, weirdly curled in on himself in his sweatshirt, arms crossed protectively over his chest and head leaned against the cold window. He doesn't disturb him, just drives in relative silence aside from the radio to let him rest.

⁂

"Hey. Elliott. C'mon, up we get." He waits until he sees him stir to try again. "Wake up. We're here."

Elliott rouses, albeit slowly, and does his best approximation of a stretch in the cramped quarters for someone so tall. "Uhm..." He sniffs, digs a knuckle into the corner of his eyes to clear the vestiges of his nap from them. "Here?"

"Home."

"I thought we were--that you were stopping for breakfast?"

"I drove through somewhere. No point in stopping and getting caught in commuter traffic if we didn't have to." He shakes the paper baggie of McDonald's the same way he might shake a bag of dog treats for a wary pet. "It's just about breakfast time, I'd wager."

It's been breakfast time, the same way they've been here, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him. The two cigarette butts drowned in the remnants of a water bottle are evidence, but there's no saying that he didn't smoke while he was driving. He clearly needed the rest, and is equally clearly someone who would apologize for trying to get it, so he doesn't present him the opportunity to have a reason to.

"Oh." In the daylight, he looks positively ghastly, the shadows under both eyes nearly the same shade as the bruising surrounding the one. He looks like he wants to say something more, but he doesn't get much further than to sniff and awkwardly get out of the car, stretch for all he's worth in the driveway.

"You're hungry, I'm sure?"

"I don't really feel like it."

"But?"

"No buts, just that I don't feel like I'm hungry."

It's gonna be pulling teeth to do anything nice for this kid, he can already tell. Well, whatever. He's not known for being shy, nor for being one to back down from a challenge. "Alright. You'll take something for the road, then."

"I don't--"

"It wasn't a question." He just won't give him a choice if he's going to make a bad one.

"Yes, si--uh--Captain."

"Good man! Come on, then, let's get your bags into the house." When he opens the door, he's immediately struck by the reminder that he had not been expecting company, nor has he hosted it in awhile.

It isn't a dump, by any means, but it's definitely a space that one might say "lacks a woman's touch". A collection of pipes and tins of tobacco on one of the shelves. A collection of mugs that haven't made it to the sink just yet, concentrated on the coffee table. The mounted crabs hanging over the mantel.

Elliott stares at it in what he can only describe as a mixture of amusement and repulsion.

"Well, listen, it's not everyone's taste." He carries the suitcase he's taken custody of into the house, gestures broadly towards the house as a whole. "Living room. Kitchen back there, bedrooms to the left, bathroom and laundry room to the right."

"It's very--uh--rustic."

He snorts. "Very diplomatic of you." He seems like a sweetheart, carefully walking on eggshells to be as tactful as he can about his interior design decisions. "You'll be staying in the guest room--it's nothing glamorous, but it's got a queen bed and a closet and electricity, and that's just about all anyone really needs around here." It also has some decor that some might describe as "tacky" or "hideous", but that's neither nor here.

"I still don't--you don't have to do this. I can just find a hotel, you don't have to open your home to me--I mean, I'm a stranger--"

"Anything you find around here is a dump and priced like it's the Ritz. You haven't got a car, and you don't know the town. If you don't want to stay, I'm not going to force you, but I am strongly encouraging you to just stay here." Perhaps he's coming on a bit strong, but there's so little reason to go somewhere else that he finds it difficult to imagine anyone would think it's honestly a good idea. He feels confident that it's merely that he doesn't want to impose--he's already said as much.

"...right. You're--you're right. I'm sorry. Thank you for opening your home to me. I'll--I'll pay for the time I'm here, of course, and help with anything you need. I don't, uh, take up a lot of space--I'm pretty quiet, and I'll probably just keep to myself--"

"We'll talk about this after you've had a chance to actually settle in. For now, go put your stuff down, take a gander at the house. Breakfast will be on the table when you want it."

Elliott doesn't seem entirely relieved, but he does seem to accept the order, and goes to drop his stuff in the room. In the meantime, he starts trying to clean things up somewhat. Gathers the mugs to the kitchen sink, and throws the coats that piled on the couch into the closet, and scoots the pile of newspapers into a slightly more organized pile of newspapers to clear a seat at the table.

It dawns on him that he's been at this for almost half an hour and still hasn't seen him return yet. The house isn't minuscule, but it certainly isn't large enough that he could've gotten lost.

He peers around the corner into the open doorway to the guest room, and is greeted by the sight of Elliott sprawled on the bed, having succeeded in getting as far as taking off his short cowboy boots and laying down to fall asleep, fully clothed, on top of the covers. He's snoring, phone still loosely clutched in one hand where he'd clearly not been anticipating dozing off.

He just leans against the doorway to watch him for a minute, arms crossed over his chest. What did he get himself into here, taking on a stray like this? What did Bill get him into, sending him the kid?

He grabs an old quilt from the armchair in the corner, and awkwardly drapes it over Elliott, covering as much of his frame as he can with it, before he leaves him to sleep if he needs it. A car nap wasn't good enough--it doesn't sound like he really slept at all yesterday, if he's understanding the timeline correctly. If he's sleeping now, it's because he sorely needs it.

He's got things he could be doing, anyway. He hasn't hosted in a long while, and it shows in the fact that his house is very much set up for his use and his alone. He shoves shit into drawers in the bathroom to sort through later when he cares, throws a clean towel and wash cloth on the counter next to the shower, somewhat haphazardly wipes down the bathroom mirror with a little Windex to get it looking a little less grimy.

With that squared away, he turns his attention to the kitchen. Christ, what a mess. He isn't entirely sure how old some of these coffee mugs are, the remnants solidified into a gross sludge in the bottom of the ceramic. Luckily, it's mostly just the mugs, and then a case of tidying things up enough that there's enough space at the table for two, and he can actually see the countertop again, instead of piling it underneath the debris of being a busy man. Newspapers, and mail he hasn't thrown out yet. Keys, and receipts, and coupons. Things he comes in and sets down, and then they never move again until an occasion like this forces his hand to do something about it.

He whistles while he works, some jaunty little tune he only sort of remembers the origins of, and even less of the words to it, but slows down and lapses into silence to strain his ears. When he catches the faint sound of snoring, he takes his cue to slip out onto the front porch.

"...Bill! You sorry sonuvabitch, how're you?"

"I'm assuming you got the kid without any issue?"

"That's what I'm calling about. Now, I've got a whelp that isn't even old enough to drink sleeping in my guest bed, and I don't know a damn thing about him. He hasn't told me anything yet, and neither have you, so I'd say one of you had better start acquainting me with him."

He can hear the long pause on the line, and a deep sigh from Bill. He can picture him ashing his cigarette, taking off his readers. "I don't think it's my story to tell."

"But it's your story to call on me to intervene in? I'm not asking for every dirty detail, but I am asking for the broad strokes of it. He's not involved in anything criminal, so why was it so important he move out of state in such a hurry?"

"Legal trouble, but not his. Suffice it to say, family matters are complicated and he really shouldn't be sticking around to see them get any more complicated than they already are. There was trouble at the courthouse a week ago, and he called me in a panic and asked what he should do. I said I knew someone who owed me a favor and could hire him on until he found something else, and he packed up everything he had and got on that plane yesterday night."

"So I have to worry about someone showing up to my house looking for him?"

"Not unless he breaks out or gets paroled."

"Oy vey." He sits down on the steps with a grunt, letting the cool afternoon wash over him. "I don't suppose that's the source of that shiner, then?"

"He was reluctant to talk about it, but it seems to be the case. Look, Hyatt, I know this is a big ask, but you can trust me: he's a good kid. He's shy, but he's got a good heart, and he'll open up in due time. If he's underperforming, just hold onto him long enough to let him get himself settled with a new job--but I really think you'll take a liking to him."

Something makes him feel like he's getting snookered, but he's already got the damn thing asleep in his bed. He's in it deeper than he'd normally allow himself to be, purely because it's Bill making the call. "You know that I'm only doing this because it's YOU asking?"

Bill laughs, something warm and raucous. "I know. Hey, I never steered you wrong as your business partner."

"What about as my friend?"

"Ehh, we'll call that more often than not that I gave you good advice. And look on the bright side! Now you don't owe me anymore."

"I hope you go out of business tomorrow morning."

"Then I'll just be joining him in the guest room."

He can't help it--he grins. "Alright, well, I'll be calling you if anything happens."

"I'm looking forward to it. Hey, Hy, take it easy. I've gotta run."

He just sits there for a long moment, mulling over the information he's pieced together about his newfound tenant. Whatever his family member--a father? brother? uncle?--is involved in, it got him arrested, and he was so spooked by it that he jumped ship and left the east coast entirely just to avoid the situation.

He doesn't seem the type to get involved in anything shady--and Bill certainly isn't the type to employ anyone that he thinks is involved in anything untoward. He's a shrewd businessman, and fiercely defensive of his business--he would never let anyone work for him if he had reason to believe they were going to be bringing anything into it like that. So whatever the unnamed family was up to, either he wasn't a part of it, or Bill found out too late and the kid was remorseful enough to overrule his instincts not to get involved, and shipped him off this way.

And whatever happened at the courthouse or jail or wherever it happened, ended up with a fistfight, or something of the like. He seems like the last creature on earth to willingly get into a fight. More than anything, he looks like someone who's probably spent more time getting fought than fighting--the homosexuality practically oozes off of him, and rural Virginia doesn't seem like the most...nurturing atmosphere for that sort of thing.

He heaves a sigh, and heads back into the house to make himself something for lunch.

⁂

By the time he sees Elliott again, it's dinnertime. He's just about to go wake him when he sees the disheveled figure shuffle out of the bedroom, hair mussed from sleep and staring at him blearily, the quilt still clutched around his shoulders.

"Weeelllll, good morning there, Sleeping Beauty. You look like you slept well?"

He looks around silently, and he can practically see the gears turning in his mind. He can hear the dial up tones, the blanket lines on his cheek still visible. He slept hard. He brings a hand up from under the blankets to mash the heel of his palm against his eyes to grind the sleep from them. "Uhmb." There's a congested edge to his voice, and he coughs. "I didn't mean to."

"I didn't think you intended to, on top of the covers, in all your clothes."

He gently knuckles at his nose, still bleary-eyed as he shuffles a little further into the room. " 'm sorry. I didn't think that--that--? Hh-! H-hh'dDZzhhyue!"

"Bless y--"

"EedZZhhue!"

"Bless--"

"Heh-! heEHZzhhyue!"

"I'll just wait till you're done."

He teeters on the brink of it, brows pinched together in sneezy limbo for a couple wavering breaths until he ducks down into the quilt again. "heEDDZzhyue! 'DZZHhieww! ...guh! Excuse me."

He snuffles, the sound thick and wet, and he brings a delicate knuckle up to swipe at his nose. It seems a bit pink, now that's getting a good look at him, and the shadows under his eyes from exhaustion haven't really lessened any, despite the fact that he just slept like nine hours. "Bless you. You're feeling alright?"

"I feel fine."

He isn't sure how "fide" he could really be feeling, given the congestion rounding out his consonants into a soft, blunted sound, but he doesn't push it any. "If you're sure." He inclines his head towards the kitchen. "I made stew for dinner--I hope you eat lamb."

"Uh--sometimes. I'm not, uh, strictly vegetarian."

"Well that's a good thing, because this is not a vegetarian household." He softens slightly. "But it's never too late to learn. I could probably do to fit a few more vegetables into my diet."

"You don't have to change anything just for me. I'll eat anything."

"Anything?"

He looks sheepish, fussing with the edge of the quilt. "Uh, almost anything."

"Except?"

He looks like he expects to be shot dead. "Seafood."

Ah. Well. Yes, that would explain why. He glances sideways towards the fridge and freezer, stocked with more seafood than anything else. "I can work with that. I needed to get groceries anyway. As long as you can tolerate that my cooking is not Michelin star worthy."

"Oh, I can--I can cook for myself. You don't have to worry about me, I'm not--uh--you don't really need to do anything for me. Letting me sleep here is already more than enough--and I still need to pay you. How much do you, uh--"

He holds a hand up to stop him. "I was meaning to talk to you about that. I won't charge you rent, but you're going to have to work. Bill said you're a hard worker and that I wouldn't regret hiring you, so I'm going to trust him and give you a chance--but it's not a free ride. You're going to have to earn your job, and your stay here until you've found somewhere else to live."

"Of course! You won't regret it, I swear--I work to work, and I-I do a decent job, I think--"

His eagerness is equal parts endearing and pathetic. "Alright, alright. You don't have to pledge me a life debt, just don't make me have to fire you." He pushes a bowl across the table to the empty seat and gestures to it. "I didn't cook for nothing, so eat up--you must be half starved by now."

"I...don't feel hungry, but I'm sure I am. I'm sure it smells delicious." He looks around the kitchen, and awkwardly tears a paper towel off the roll to gently dab at pink nostrils. The color seems to be creeping in more every time he touches his nose, the pink soft but noticeable against the pallor of his skin. Was he that pale when he saw him earlier?

"Are you sick?"

Elliott seems genuinely taken aback by the question, almost defiant in his immediate rigidity. "I am definitely not."

He quirks a brow. "Is that so?"

"I can't just be a little sniffly, in a dusty guest room?"

"Dusty might be putting it strongly. I clean in there, even if there's no one staying." Well. Definitely not as often as he should. But he doesn't think it's that dusty in there--not enough that he thinks it should really be effecting anything like this, at least.

"I think it's understandable if I'm a little congested when I wake up, especially in a room that's dusty, after traveling all day!"

He can't fight the amused smile at how adamant and offended he seems by the notion that he's sick. "Alright, fine. I'm sure by the end of dinner you'll be feeling right as rain, then?"

It's the first real show of emotion he's gotten out of him that wasn't fawning or exhausted, a strange streak of obstinance. "I'm sure I will!"

Jee-zus. He really is a teen, even if he's an adult. "Good. Eat up, then."

He narrows his eyes at the challenge they've both locked themselves into now, and sits down with more of a dramatic huff than is necessary by a long shot. Once he actually starts eating, it seems like his body realizes how hungry he really is, because he starts shoveling stew like a ravenous beast who hasn't eaten in months.

"You're not a snake. This isn't your one meal for the next two weeks, you can take your time."

He pauses, the spoon halfway between the bowl and his mouth, and stares like a deer in headlights. Color floods his cheeks, matching the shade of pink his nose has deepened to. "Oh." He sniffles, swipes at his nose with the paper towel in his other hand. "Yeah, I just--"

He trails off, eyes narrowing slightly as his brow furrows and damp, pink nostrils flare. He sniffles again, the sound equally unproductive but more urgent than before. His lashes, thick and dark like he's wearing mascara--and, now that he thinks about it, he might actually be--flutter shut as he takes a wavering breath.

"huH-! uuUDDZzhhyue! huUHZzhhyue!" He sneezes twice into the bedraggled paper towel, now pretty well spent and ineffective--but he definitely doesn't seem done. The freckled bridge of his nose is wrinkled in irritation, breath scissoring as he takes uneven gasps towards the next one. "heEDDZHhue! eEZZhhyue! Huh-! huH-!? huUDDJZzhhuuee!"

He actually whimpers a little after that last one, cupped hands having taken the brunt of it, the sodden paper towel that's sitting limply in his palms of no use at all now. He sighs, sniffles, and immediately regrets it, because--

"heEZZHhieww! h-heH-! heEDDZZHHhue! ...guh! Oh my God--excuse me..."

He puts his spoon down, folds his hands on the tabletop. "Elliott."

He snuffles, a little bleary in the aftermath of the fit. "Captain."

"Is it still the dusty guest room?"

He nudges the sink on with his elbow to wash his hands--ugh, Christ, he can see the sheen of moisture on his palms from here--before tearing off a couple of paper towels to blow his nose into at such a soft volume he doesn't realize he's doing it at first.

"It might be."

"Elliott."

"It could still be! I'm sure I'll be fine by morning!"

Why this is the hill he's chosen to die on, he cannot possibly fathom, but it is. Fine. Whatever. "Have it your way."

⁂

He's just laying in his bed, listening to Elliott snore from across the hall. He could get up and close the door. In fact, he should go do that, and close Elliott's, too, while he's at it. But something about that feels too risky.

For who, he doesn't know. He highly doubts he's going to wake to discover that he's been robbed, nor that he isn't going to wake at all because he's been stabbed to death in bed. Nor does he think that Elliott is going to weep and gnash his teeth if he doesn't have the doors open as reassurance and comfort. But he went to bed with the door open, and it's some bizarre comfort to him as well to be able to keep tabs on what his new house guest is doing.

Snoring, mostly.

He's listened to him wake a couple of times, but he hasn't really done anything else, except to roll over and make the bedframe creak ominously, and to cough. Nothing horrid, and certainly nothing annoying, but something that since he's been paying attention, he finds impossible to miss.

He leans over, looks at the clock on the nightstand again, and lays back down with a sigh. At least one of them is getting some sleep tonight.

Eventually, he gets up and moves to the armchair in the living room, puts on some stupid "documentary" about something he's sure is bullshit, and lets the sound of someone whose accreditation includes "foremost psychic folklorist" lull him into sleep.

⁂

The light streaming in through the blinds is what rouses him--and as soon as it does, he is aware of two things. The first: the pain in his back and hip from sleeping in a recliner all night instead of laying in bed. The second: the sound of muffled coughing from the bedroom, chesty and congested.

His hip is barking at him, and he awkwardly gets himself up from the chair to go hobble into his bedroom to grab the bottle of aspirin out of the nightstand drawer. There's nothing to really do for it at this point, but he takes a couple of them to hope that it'll take the edge off of the pain.

He stares at it in his closet, and frowns before relenting and grabbing his cane. He hears the sound of Elliott walking behind him towards the living room, and throws a sweater and some socks onto his bed to get to later when he gets around to getting dressed, and follows him out.

"So about that cold that you definitely don't have..."

Elliott is standing before him, clad in pajama pants and thick socks and a heavy sweatshirt, and garishly cold-ridden. His nose is startlingly red and damp, the shadows beneath his eyes dark as a raccoon's mask. He's breathing through parted lips, chapped from the way he's been having to move around the congestion settled deeply into him. Just looking at him feels like he's going to contract whatever plague he's harboring within him.

"I might--" he interrupts himself to snuffle thickly and wetly, coughs into his elbow, "no, okay, I am sick."

"That much is obvious, but thank you for admitting it." He scratches his beard thoughtfully, mulling over his options here. He could try and spare him having to be out and about like this--and, in so doing, spare everyone else from his cold--but he's already made a commitment to going into work today, and dragging Elliott along with him before he puts him to work tomorrow. "Get dressed after you've eaten--we're going into work--not for a full shift, mind you. Consider it a tour more than anything else. I have to fax a couple documents over to a client, and you could use the familiarity."

"Yes, Captain."

He doesn't look happy, but it's difficult to tell if that's over the prospect of going to work, or if it's because he's being forced out while he's sick, or a combination thereof. It doesn't matter, really--he's sick, but it's a cold. He can't let him shirk any responsibility just because he's caught cold, even if it does look like a nasty one.

"Good man. Eat up and get dressed--we've got business to attend to." He claps him on the shoulder, and leaves him to get himself ready for the upcoming day.

[umbrellajam]

Post-Knightfall - Batboys and Domestic Chores

aka What To Do When Your Alfred Quits Because Bruce Is A Self-Destructive Dingus With No Regard For His Own Health And So Now You Suddenly Have To Adult All By Yourself

aka despite both being raised by Alfred from roughly age 9 onward, Bruce is still a completely helpless fumbling rich boy when it comes to domestic tasks, while Dick is very much not, lol.

Tim also starts out as a typical sheltered teenage boy who doesn't even know how to fold laundry... But fortunately for him, he has a new older brother to teach him what's what while they're partnered up during Prodigal! :D

...Sort of. Once Bruce is back and he and Tim are on their own, they both still fumble without Alfred or Dick around. Tim's embryonic domestic skills can't make up for Bruce being a sad wet cat re: household tasks, pfft.

In chronological order, starting after Bruce and Alfred have both fucked off and Dick and Tim are holding down the fort in Gotham as Batman and Robin:

DICK AND TIM

Batman #512 - Dick can cook! And he cooks for Tim :) Also, the house-robes are adorable, as always. Tim: "I can't believe you can actually cook..." Dick: "I like to eat." Tim: "So does Bruce - but he had to order Chinese last night." Dick: "That's where I'm one up on him - I've lived on my own without an Alfred. Still miss him, though... He was good for a lot more than cooking and cleaning." Tim: "Yep - but at least we don't have to miss him on empty stomachs."

Batman: Shadow of the Bat #32 - The Manor was thrashed after Bruce's fight with Bane, and was never cleaned up after Bruce's back was broken and Jean-Paul Valley took over as Batman. The Batbros are on the job! Dick (sweeping): "Bruce told me a story once: Two philosophers talked all day." Tim (blithely eating a banana): "And...?" Dick (tossing him the broom): "The mess was still there next morning!" Tim (grinning): "Message received and understood, Captain!"

Batman #513 - Timmy is amazed at Dick's mastery of the household arts! Tim: "Awesome - you can cook and do the laundry?" Dick: "Hey, if there's time, I may even putty some new panes in those smashed windows." Tim: "Blimey - does Alfred the Pennyworth know you've mastered all his domestic secrets?" Dick: "Who do you think taught him?" Tim: "Not to get too serious, Dick, but it's good to see you loose again - and good to see the Manor taking shape, too. Since Jean Paul didn't care about it and Bruce relies on Alfred, it looks like you can teach a trick or two the other Batmen couldn't."

Robin #12 - More Dick handling the laundry, and Dick flinging a towel in Tim's face - er, teaching him how to fold so that he can pitch in instead of sitting on the side and moping. Dick: "Does that mean that things are going smoother between you and Ariana?" Tim (mopily): "Not really. Every time I think we're finally getting along, something happens to change all that." Dick: "Welcome to the opposite sex, Tim." Tim: "Look at you with the laundry. You're going to make some woman happy someday." Dick: "Well, it's about time you learned to fold a towel." (throws one in Tim's face) Tim: "Hey!" Dick: "I can't do everything around here until Alfred gets back."

BRUCE AND TIM

Bruce is back! And he straight up sucks at all this stuff without Alfred, lol, and doesn't have a Dick to lean on like Tim did.

Batman: Shadow of the Bat #35 - Bruce attempting laundry in the washer (laundry strewn all over the room and bubbles ominously emerging from the machine), getting pizza delivery, and asking the delivery boy for limo service recs, lol. Delivery Boy: "Good afternoon, sir. Three-cheese special, right?" Bruce: "You don't happen to know a good limo service? Or anything about washing machines...?"

Detective Comics #685 - Bruce infamously ruining tuna fish sandwiches. Bruce: "Sorry about lunch, Tim. I'm not much of a hand in the kitchen. With Alfred gone I'm pretty much helpless." Tim: "It's okay, Bruce. How can you screw up a tuna fish sandwich?" (takes a bite) "Oh. That's how."

Detective Comics #687 - Bruce attempts to toss an Armani tuxedo in the washing machine because reasons. Tim: "Are you sure you know what you're doing, Bruce?" Bruce: "How dangerous can it be, Tim? Alfred never seems to have a problem." Tim: "Well, he makes everything look easy. What are you washing here?" Bruce: "My summer tux. It smelled like the river." Tim (pulling out the now-tiny tux jacket and smirking): "Guess you didn't know you were supposed to dry clean these things, huh?"

Batman: Shadow of the Bat #40 - The central heating system at the Manor has gone down, and Bruce is aghast that he (a) has to make a reservation with the maintenance man, and (b) it might take him more than a week to take care of it. Bruce decides to just fix it himself - I wonder how that went, lol. Bruce (hand to his forehead dramatically) : "A butler, at butler, my kingdom for a butler!" Tim (coming down the stairs into the basement): "Specifically Alfred?" Bruce: "Very specifically. He'd have had these central heating tyrants fixed in minutes. Losing Alfred has caused me as much pain as anything Bane did to me."

THE RETURN OF ALFRED! Yaaaaay! And more Bruce and Tim.

Batman #521 - More overflowing laundry shenanigans 😂 Bruce: "Not again, Tim!" Tim: "Honest, Bruce - I know I didn't go overboard on the detergent this time!" Bruce: "You mean you added detergent too--? After I already did it?" Tim: "Uh oh. Hey, I was only trying to help..." Bruce: "The mops." Tim: "Yeah...again." Alfred returns to Bruce and Tim both attempting to mop up, suds everywhere, including in their hair. To preserve both his and Bruce's dignity, he's pretended to come in answer to a Help Wanted ad that he himself placed in the paper, for a butler at Wayne Manor. Bruce and Tim both warmly welcome him home.

Detective Comics #689 - Batman and Robin pick the wrong rooftop to talk on, and startle a woman coming up to hang her laundry so badly that she faints, dropping and scattering the whole load. Robin: "She'll be okay. Just passed out." Batman: "I hate when this happens." Robin: "Well, what do we do now?" Batman: "How about demonstrating some of your new skills - the ones Nightwing taught you?" Robin: "Man..." He does, and the woman wakes up to her neatly folded items in her basket, while Bruce and Tim swing away. Tim (indignant): "It wouldn't hurt you to learn how to fold clothes, even though Alfred is back." Batman (grinning): "You know what they say about old dogs, Robin." Robin: "Right."

(All of these were published within a one year span, from November 1994 to September 1995. Very fun little recurring D-plot in the aftermath of Knightfall c:)

[bella-rose29]

episode 6 commentary - You Never Asked

this has been a looooong time coming oops

warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS for the show and the books, I think that's it??? I've been weirdly good this time

DEPRAC vans make me think of lego every time

god I forgot how much I love this show (I haven't watched it for ages oops)

barnes being a Tired Dad gives me life

'be smart' as he stares lockwood in the eyes bc he knows that boy is Silly

awwww he cares about them really

not lockwood hanging back to look at the death glow 😭 and then looking up at the Door 😭😭😭 that boy has seen too much death give him a hug, a cup of tea, and a break

pretty solid bird if it broke the window like that george

I want lucy's cardigan

I FORGOT ABOUT SKULL AND HIS VOICE SCARED ME

I want lucy's hair as well

why does skull remind me of gollum

oh goodness me the rolled shirtsleeves

George is so happy 😭

lockwood is so pretty in that golden lighting like it's really his lighting

'I'm in charge now' babes I don't think you are

protective boys

eugh not the sawing

'it's still technically mine you know' George 😭

'we've just sent her alone into a severely haunted house' *lockwood immediately stands up*

once again angry that this show got cancelled bc we'll never get to see skull and lucy's friendship grow

good lord that whooshing sound was loud

'don't force it there'll be some kind of trigger' *lockwood starts kicking it*

NOT THE HAND HOLD THAT WAS IMPROVISED

'that's the last time you go and do a job on your own' um sure...

god he sounds so sad and tortured

'you're incredible' yes she is

Flo you icon

'save your kisses for whatsherface' FLO I LOVE YOU

George I love you

'I was about to ask the same thing... locky' the way lockwood goes from 😃 to 😐

'we can trust her' um baby no

he's such a posh boy

exshellent

sad wet cat kipps

me when I've been to 35 Portland Row in real life 🤭

lockwood watching from the window like a sad ailing victorian boy

also I love A55 by English teacher it's such a good song

'ooo Pamela is it now' I love their friendship

POOR BABY LOCKWOOD

god she's so pretty

FITTED SUIT LOCKWOOD I REPEAT FITTED SUIT LOCKWOOD

'live life for the both of you' do we think lockwood thinks that to himself everyday in regards to jessica

'thought you might like it' just tell her you're in love with her

we were robbed of George in a tux with a bow tie

this entire kitchen scene where lockwood's stood in the doorway is like George is on a date and his dad isn't leaving

CAMERON CHAPMAN THE MICROEXPRESSIONS WHEN LUCY LEAVES THE HOUSE

'so it's just us?' 'is that alright' uh yeah she's been giving you heart eyes from the moment you met

ME WHEN I'VE BEEN TO THE BARBICAN IN REAL LIFE

'two of my favourite things, posh people and small talk' she's so me

'fhamily's fhamous legacy'

'I think she saw me' *lockwood waves*

there is no need for them to be stood as close as they are

god he's in love

congrats to jack bandiera for being able to make sad wet cat kipps also be James Bond kipps

'you feel safe with him, mr lockwood' WHILE LUCY IS TOUCHING THE NECKLACE

'if you ever need to talk, I'm a good listener' YEAH BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT ACTUALLY PENELOPE

'is that so hard to believe' only the fact that he momentarily forgot that the two of you aren't actually dating and got jealous

god my nerdy ass would have a field day in the black library

peekaboo

the way lockwood is just fixating on the sword is so funny to me for no reason

power couple shit

'this party's dead, wanna ditch it with me?' 'absolutely' good lord I love them

also bisexual lighting is so them

[gerec]

i’ve had a shitty week so i was just wondering if you could recommend your favorite fluffy cherik fics 😭 i don’t care what they’re about i just need fluff

I'm sorry you've had a rough week Anon and I'm happy to help. I don't really read straight fluff but these are my favorite Cherik fics to read when I want a pick me up and I hope you like them!

One Hundred One Night Stands. by Sophia_Bee

Charles has a rule. Never fuck the same guy twice. When he refuses to see Erik again after a one night stand, Erik goes about trying to get Charles to violate that rule using accents and disguises.

Erik Lehnsherr's Guide to Parenting by keire_ke

Alex disapproves of school car washes, despite the abundance of wet bikinis on pretty girls. Erik doesn’t approve of his son shirking money-making duties.

Humane Society by smilebackwards

Once Erik finally allows himself to decide that Charles is pretty much the best thing since sliced bread, he spends the next week being incredibly bitter that he's Charles' cat and not his boyfriend.

Protect, Serve, Troll by keire_ke

Erik's fire department has a special relationship with the local university. They visit often. Sometimes, there even is a fire.

Not So Much the Teacup by thehoyden

“Charles is basically the bride whisperer. It’s like he can read their minds.” (wedding planner AU)

645 Riverside Drive by smilebackwards

Azazel clearly has yet to understand the shattering power of Charles' disappointment, so Erik takes one for the team, grabbing the cup and downing the remnants of the cappuccino like a shot while Azazel watches with morbid fascination.

Good manners (will get you far) by ximeria

Charles had been looking forward to the performance at the Met for ages. Little did he know, things would not go according to plan.

Oysters and Champagne by listerinezero

Erik is the extremely talented, extremely scary chef at one of the top restaurants in New York, and Charles, the head waiter, is the only person with the balls to stand up to him. Their fights are the stuff of legend, and their argument over the Valentine's Day menu turns into one for the history books.

'tis a far far better thing doing stuff for other people by whichisgolden

The X-Men: First Class Clueless AU that you didn't know you always wanted. Charles is a spoiled Beverly Hills telepath, Erik is his pretentious ex-step-brother, Emma is his best friend because they both know what it feels like for people to be jealous of them, etc.

Other Life Challenges by professor

“Why am I here again?” Erik groans.

“I need you to lift things and glower at people over my shoulder when I tell people that it’s not ‘politically correct’ or a ‘war on Christmas’ to have a non-denominational winter holiday festival,” says Theresa Pryde.

Well, at least those are two things he’s good at.

Making perfect by aesc 

As is the case with most trials in Erik's life, this one starts with Charles gazing beseechingly at him and asking him for a favor. Not that their going-on-three years relationship is a trial, even though it started with Charles giving Erik the full benefit of sad blue eyes and asking him if he wouldn't mind opening his car door since he'd locked his keys inside, but still.

love like toy trucks crashing by midrashic

Charles Xavier may be young, but he knows what it means to love.

soul of my soul by ikeracity

You can imprint on your soulmate anywhere — school, work, on the street, in a restaurant, on the subway.

Charles and Erik imprint on each other just in time for the holidays.

[officesupplied]

elsewhere is my biggest hyperfixation which sucks because nobody has heard of it (I don’t mean in a "there’s a fandom but I don’t know anybody irl" way or a "it’s vaguely obscure" way I mean I’m pretty sure I’m the only person online to have ever posted about this comic within a fandom context). It’s kind of alternate history kind of historical fiction but it’s a lot more "alternate" and "fiction" than it is history since it puts more focus on crazy adventures in an alien world than the real lives of the main protagonists (Amelia Earhart and D. B. Cooper) but if somebody was interested in fiction involving those characters (which I massively was before reading it. I watch/read every single D. B. Cooper media) they would probably like it.

It revolves around Amelia Earhart being transported into an alternate world named Korvath and fights alongside the natives against the evil overlord Kragen. There are a lot of plot twists but you can’t really explain the series without spoiling the extremely minor first one, that being the appearance of D. B. Cooper. At the end of the first issue, Amelia pretends to turn herself into Kragen’s prison in the hopes that her co-pilot Fred Noonan has been imprisoned there, only to find out that she has not in fact been put in a cell with Fred, but rather a sad little wet cat goofball named Daniel (he has stolen thousands of dollars in a famous skyjacking incident) and then in the next issue they escape and make their way back to the group.

I’m probably gonna have to get it out the way, Dan is my favourite character by far because he’s so silly. He’s always either a gremlin or a wet cat

^ his ass is having a good time! ^ his ass is not having a good time

it’s probably easier to sum up why I love him with my collection of Dan screenshots

he’s so caffeine addicted… (also canon/heavily implied bisexual‼️ which is why we are getting married‼️)

There are two arcs but it got cancelled after that because it didnt get enough sales (there was no promotion) (still kinda bugs me how comic companies don’t advertise their comics and then cancel them when they don’t make enough) which shall forever be my equivalent to the burning of the library of Alexandria. Because of the obscurity there is no‼️ chance of it coming back either…

i don’t really know how to end this so just have this random moment from the comic that aged extremely well

I despise when . Yknow. Canecellations. sounds really cool though !! Yeah you should marry that guy, he seems sick as fuck.

“fire in the hole!” guy looks like doctor doom. the art style is fun !! plot wise it also sounds fun. I’ll try to check it out sometime eventually

[orangeocelotmartyn]

Reasons to nominate/vote Martyn InTheLittleWood as your Mcyt sexyman

Man’s been on tumblr for ages and is very good at staying in his lane 

Does Maidtyn Monday mean Nothing to you 

Reblogged posts about his character being in love with his boss

Ratsune Miku

Speaking of rats, he canonically (lied) about having 500 kids and the other rats were like actually that makes sense for you. Man’s a dilf

Very quick witted + fantastic lyricist and singer

If you’re looking for sad wet and pathetic, look no further than his double life character, who had to get in water to get into the “ugliest” base of the game, and also in said game he had a divorce rate of not one hundred, not two hundred, but three hundred percent in that season alone! Love loses! 

Wore cat ears for (multiple) mcc’s and then forgot to take them off so he just wore them in a death game. Iconic.

His Lore, dude. He’s the reason watchers are so prevalent in fandom, and his characters reflect the love and thought he puts into them (even though he’s Bad At Math)

His v-tuber is a sad twink with a fat ass (as requested by Martyn during stream) who has to think of everyone as npcs to protect himself in the data stream so he doesn’t have to get attached And he doesn’t even have a sofa 

[cassiopeiagarcia]

Alice in Wonderland AU based on these posts by @somatheking and @prosopagn0sis ♡ For @cheshire-shuntaro, in light of the event hosted by @all-mad-hare! Hope you will like it.

Crowns. Thrones. Kings. Queens.

'The whole notion is shit.' Cass declared, with a crooked grin, her posture seemingly calm, her eyes telling a different story, as they darted nervously around the other person's face. 'Tell it to me. In other worlds, I've been the Queen.'

She clicked her tongue, stretched her neck. First to one side, then to the other, until she heard the cracking. She enjoyed the sound much more than the feeling of release; it reminded her of fireworks, of time passing, of perfectly manicured nails tapping on a table while they drank tea... Her smile grew even bigger, almost shark-like, full of teeth, like that permanently present on her companion. Her expression turned voracious. 'Imagine!' Cass let out a sharp laugh, that ended abruptly. 'Can you think of a worse choice?'

She changed posture. Until that moment, she had been rocking the chair she had been sitting on onto its back legs, dangerously close to being tipped over at any second. Now, she jumped out of it, standing on her own two feet. She circled around the table, like a wild animal stalking its prey, licking her lips, squinting her eyes, becoming closer and closer, until only centimeters separated her from the Cheshire Cat. She didn't like him, that one. Didn't like the way his eyes examined her, as if he knew a secret she didn't, as if he could see what was behind her shell. The way the air seemed to curve and twist and turn around him, as if he demanded respect.

'Some people just aren't born for doing good.' Fingers stained with yellow paint leaving their trail on the tablecloth, still wet, from giving her siblings a little makeover. She couldn't wait for Cheshire to see them. Maybe that'd erase the smug look in his face. They were so beautiful, her brother and sister. She was so happy she would stay with them, forever. 'And I'm not talking about you, of course.'

A painful sting on her cheeks now. The lavender she had placed all around was not enough to mask the rotting smell coming from the corps... from Andro and Hércules. She, actually, really disliked the smell. Because it awoke something in her, a name. Soma? A spark of sadness, shining in those dark eyes of hers, like wells without a bottom, but quickly dismissed with an exaggerated wave of hand.

'Not talking about me, either.' She clarified, leaning forward, so close to the man's face he probably could feel her warm breath on his skin, reeking of tea and pastries and death. 'Talking about the Red Queen, of course. She killed them, everyone I loved. But... it is to be expected, isn't it? She's a wolf.' Cass lifted her head and howled. At the moon? No, the sun was shining bright above them. It was a nice, hot, summer day. But it had been long since the young woman had felt any warmth, her skin prickly and cold, her heart frozen ever since they died. 'I read it in a book one time... You don’t put a wolf amongst your sheep then cry when you find one eaten, do you?'

But she had cried. She had cried for ages, losing her sanity slowly, a little bit more with every single tear. With every new stain on her white dress, which was now broken, ripped at the seams, dirty, the miasma of a graveyard impregnating the fabric.

It hadn't always been like that.

It had been beautiful, once. Pure white, with long satin sleeves, flowy skirts, pearls and golden threads intertwined, diamonds here and there, sparkling and flashing when the light hit them. A tall neck, to keep some semblance of decency and modesty, two things she hadn't had when she had courted with the Red Queen's husband.

Now, that first ever stain, from Soma's third beheading, brown, as was the color of old blood, was almost imperceptible. There were too many others, every single one of them a symbol of her loss of mental health, lucidity slipping through her fingers like sand. She hadn't changed her clothes ever since, and it showed.

'You're a kitten, though.' She eyed him up and down, to make sure. Was it a little feline what was in front of her, or a blonde human dressed in white with chocolate-colored eyes? 'I don't really know how the food chain works between you two… What do cats eat, other than little mice?'

First, Soma. Then, Andro. Then, Hércules. Cass couldn't have saved the former, too far gone now for her to reach, she too changed for him to love. So she made sure to keep the other two by her side. Forever... and always.

'You want to see them, don't you?'

She didn't wait for a reply.

She clapped, and the once magnificent doors of the room opened at the order she hadn't given. Andro and Hércules came in... or what was left of them. In Andro's case, only her torso and wobbling head, the neck unable to withstand its weight, long, black, wavy hair falling down her back. As beautiful as always, even if she was missing an eye, even if she had little skin left and dirty yellow bones started to show. Even if her mouth opened, and a worm or a beetle or both of them crawled out from inside. They just wanted to say hello.

Hércules... there was more of him, but he was bloated beyond recognition, a greenish tint to him, flies buzzing all around. She had found the man after the battle, his body laying with many others in a body of water that had been more corpse than river by that point. But he still had his rings, his slutty earring, his curls. And that was enough for Cass to still consider him her little brother.

Both of their bodies had corroded, brassy mechanical parts inserted to them and directed themselves using wheels. Steam was constantly coming out of them, making it more difficult to actually see what they looked like which was... all the better. Because, maybe, just maybe, if she could take a good look at them, Cass would snap out of it and realize what she had done. The monster she had become. Or... was she too far gone?

'My precious sister. My beloved brother.' Cass moved towards them. She appeared to glide, rather than taking steps, exaggeratedly slow, dancing with an invisible partner. Soma's ghost, maybe, still haunting the walls of the palace. She laughed when she was by their side, half-choking on her own spit, not bothered by the stench, because it was coming from her also. She kissed their cheeks, both of them, adoringly, caressing their faces with eyes wet with tears, looking at them like one would at an old love they never got over.

'You really are mad.' Had those words left Cheshire's smile or had she imagined them? The man-cat or, siteoppo, cat-man, was still looking at her from his chair, surprisingly not having turned invisible... yet. Not floating around the room, either. Just waiting to see how the situation developed. What was he waiting for? RUN!, she wanted to scream.

'Am I?' She couldn't even take offence. 'They call me now... the Mad Hatter, don't they?' A new nickname, since she had changed her glistening golden crown for a self-made black funeral hat with a widow veil the moment he had died. 'So I guess I am. But there's worse things out there than not being completely sane. You're not either, don't even pretend. Weren't you who said that we were all mad here? And, after all, I'm not the one who killed them, am I? I'm not the one who is going to kill you, either. They are.'

Her siblings' hands, cold. Like winter, like a frozen lake, ice creaking beneath her pretty little feet, thinner each passing moment. She couldn't grab them as tightly as she would have liked, afraid their fingers would fall off, the flesh already peeling off of them.

'Don't get me wrong, I'll give the order. But it was your fault, really.' A roll of the eyes, a little shrug of the shoulders. So much like the old Cass, it would have hurt her to see it on a reflection. Luckily, she had destroyed all the mirrors in the palace, some of the smaller shattered pieces still dug into her pale skin. Making her suffer, but reminding her she was still alive. Unlike... no, what was she saying? Andro and Hércules were alive. They were standing right beside her. But where was... where was Soma? However, she could see herself in Cheshire's brown eyes. And she hated it.

A hand pressed to her chest, so much agony all of a sudden she would have thought she was dying. A growl forming at the back of her throat. She grabbed her skirts, lifted them up, and took lurching, rapid steps towards her guest, her face a mask of fury. 'It was your fault... it was your fault!' She hissed and screamed, using her index finger to stab at his chest, hard, having climbed over the table in order to do so. Everything was now on the floor ― the teacups, the teapot, the tea. The chocolate and vanilla buns, the little sandwiches, full of maggots.

She grabbed at her tangled strawberry blonde curls and yanked. 'You came here to speak with me! Now, you are dying. It's as simple as that... she has you in her radar, she does. She'll kill you.' Her arms were back at her sides, her head tilted towards one shoulder. She lifted a tremorous hand, and touched her companion's face, sweetly, cautious, afraid they would slap her hand off, although that wasn't the Cheshire she knew... she had known him, before, hadn't she? She was so sorry for him, so sorry. Poor kitten. 'It's better to be killed by Andro... or by Hércules... It's just better.' She nodded a few times, convinced of what she was saying. She lowered herself from the table, putting some distance between her and him. She was already dirty enough, she didn't want to make it any worse, just in case Soma came to visit. She wanted to look pretty for him. Because... he should be here soon, shouldn't he? Any minute, now.

'It's an act of love, really. Take it as one.'

But the Cheshire Cat knew nothing about love. Just a person who appeared and disappeared at will, who liked to leave others perplexed with their conversational skills and somewhat amusing comebacks. Leaving nothing but a grin behind. Making his head levitate around the room. Mischievous, and sarcastic.

But not in love.

No, not in love.

[sxrrandomfanfics]

Being on a stream where I played Psychonauts 1 someone who is just exposed to Razputin for the first time and hearing them say "Yo, he has rizz." makes me think of @doodle88 bringing up how much of a wet cat that Raz is in PN2.

So a few scenes I would probably change are some scenes with my favorite girl.

First scene in the Atrium, where Lili is yelling at Jared to let her through to let her see her dad, The inflection of the Intern program would probably be less dejected to curious, to more angered, then excited as he realizes Lili might be in program. I also think that since Raz was fine mentioning making out with Lili in front of brainless Superstar Agents Nein and Vodello, and some strange woman crying about her turtle, as well as kissing her in front of his dad, I would have him be more snarky about it. Oh, you mean to tell me that EVERYONE in the Motherlobe is like your surrogate aunt/uncle/older sibling figure? Do they know you've kissed someone yet, Miss Zanotto? And Lili every time he brings it up is like super embarrassed cause she hates PDA like she saw back at Whispering Rock, but to Raz seeing his siblings and kids his age do a lot of PDA at camp, that's normal. The scene where Raz asks Lili about helping her, instead of making him nervous, make him hopeful. But the heartbeat is still there and his smile starts getting wider as he's expecting a kiss. Still get that fakeout though, leading to the same outcome.

The scene where Lili is in Truman's office, but before the casino mission (aka, after you go to the mailroom but before you go to class) I'd probably add in a few more details to the conversation. A lot of it is the same cause Raz knows it's a delicate situation when Lili's around her unconscious dad. However things like "did your dad have any enemies" would result in more Lili and Raz being comic nerds together (WE WERE ROBBED OF MORE TPT TALK BETWEEN THESE TWO) mentioning villains that may brianwash, but they're ruled out by Lili cause she mentions either kidnapping styles or their usual plans, in a little too much detail... almost like she'd been kidnapped before. Bringing up the kiss again would either lead to Lili playfully telling Raz: "That's what made my dad's Psilirium sickness worse in the first place, you jerk!" or "Moments, Raz. Geez." Lili bringing up how Truman fought with her Uncle Bob and her shrugging it off as "family stuff" would earn a nod from Raz, as well as something said in solidarity to it. Considering how he acted about his family and the underlying tension about psychics, I could see Raz seeing the arguments as something familiar. When Lili mentions that she wants to be told so real justice can be served, I think Raz would more so giggle and tell her "I'll keep that in mind."

Thinkerprint scene is SO good and will receive no changes. Same with the scene with "Truman" revealing he's awake.

For the multiple choices leading up to getting Lili's sidequest, I think the only one changed is "I guess I better take you into custody then" as it would be said with more exaggeration, and when Lili admonishes him, he gives her a more sad smile. The Interns would be mentioned about the same, as much as I think that Raz dislikes Norma around the same amount as Bobby Zilch, and can get irritated with Adam as much as he did with Clem and Crystal, overall he thinks of them as friends. This time if Raz brings up the kiss, I think it'd be more interesting to play into how he flubs the "That time we kissed was pretty cool and I was wondering-" to instead be "So I was cool back at Whispering Rock/The Rhombus of Ruin, enough to be an agent, in your eyes?" which would lead to Lili telling Raz that if she's not an agent yet, it seems a bit unfair, for him to be considered one. This could lead to an extended dialogue about Raz telling Lili "we should talk to your dad about it. When he's awake, I mean. If he doesn't bring up the kiss, I think it'd be funny to bring up the idea of how Lili saw Raz as a prince, considering he could use that power and see Lili's clairvoyance of Raz as a prince when she's tied up. Have him mention that specifically when they're alone, cause it's something just between each other and he's trying to rile her up a bit, get more energy in her. Said energy is matched and drained from Raz, when Lili brings up "I don't see you like that anymore. I don't think I could after seeing you shimmying outside of Milla's window in your circus uniform." Raz's expressions would go from surprised, to looking away bashfully, then back up with a bit of a smirk, considering Lili now sees Raz as a more cleaned up version of himself. When Raz wants to bring up the casino mission, Lili claims she'll read the debrief later. Raz once again mentions True Psychic Tales and "are you sure you want to spoil yourself with some boring mission debrief?" Lili would smile and say: "Then no spoilers from you, mister!" When Lili thanks Raz for getting the mushroom, she would instead say. "You have no idea how much this means to me. Here, I've got something to give you too." Raz turns his cheek smiling a bit, and is given the rank up with a simple "Oh. Right. Thanks!" Same thing happens if you do this side quest after Lili gets her dad back.

The "Girlfriend reveal" is the same because HOLY SHIT THE PN1 VS PN2 KNEE SHAKE IS GREAT.

If you try to leave the Heptadome and Lili is in there, where she asks Raz to stay with her, Raz will smile and then walk back saying "yeah, alright."

Gristol's mind stays the same. When Raz and Lili are ejected out, it remains the same.

The hug at the end of two is nearly the same, but after separating just a tad Lili still has her arms around Raz, giving him a kiss. The scene then plays out with Gristol trying to escape, only for the other agents to grab him, and Lili grabbing the box, with the same "Do you have a funnel?" line to Raz as he smiles and puts on his goggles, ready to work.

[peanutmoggo]

I miss my two late cats. They both died the same month as my birthday. They were brother with about a year age gap. One died at 13, one at 12. Pretty old for incest born Persian home cats. I love them both, but I guess they love each other more. The younger died first, in less than a week his older brother passed away.

The younger one died of severe renal disease. He was a petite cat, born healthy and talkative. But somehow always had a health issue. Once he had some kind of bacteria in his eye that we had to drive miles to the north to find the well known animal's eyes specialist (our local vet has no expertise on that). Thank God he survived the disease. But not this time. Doctor said that he had a small sized kidney that it was prone to such illness. He passed away after being hospitalized for two days. I love how the vet took care of him after he passed away. Not only did they wrapped him, but I guess they put some kind of perfume (or idk what) that he smell like a flower. We buried him at the small park near our home.

The saddest part is, the older was in a healthy shape before he died. Not until his brother passed away, he was still cheerful, playful, ate a lot. His tail was always facing up to the sky, he walked like a submarine. But the day following his brother's passing, he became a very very depressed cat. He wouldn't leave my grandma's bedroom and keep facing at empty spaces. His tail was laying low, he was no longer a walking submarine. We had to feed him by our hands because he wouldn't even touch his food. Sunday, January 21st, we brought him to the vet. Just to make sure he was all good. Doctor said he was very much healthy, but sad, only very sad. Doctor gave us vitamins and recommended us to give recovery wet food. The doctor talked to him as if he would understand (I personally believe he did). The doctor told him that it's okay to grief and be sad, but life must go on because everyone loves and cares for him so much. After the counseling session, the paramedic trim his paw until it looked perfectly round, cut his claw, and clean his ears.

The next day, Monday. He was all okay. He ate his food, no sign of vomiting, nor refusing to eat. I was going to work so I got this good news from the cleaning lady. That was a really good news and we were all happy about it (we talked cheerfully on the family group).

My sister took care of him until 10am and got back from campus at 2pm, only to saw that he was laying on the floor, gone.

Up until now, I still cannot believe a physically healthy cat just died unexpectedly. But maybe, every living being can died of sadness. And that's sad.

Those two silly cats are up there now. We buried the older brother next to his late younger bro. I think both of them are in the middle of some sort of family time, bonding and playing around with their dad and siblings who passed away before them. Ah that must be joyful to reunite with your loving family.

One thing that keeps me awake tonight, I think the older cat sort of want us to bring him to the vet to take care of him for his last days. The last grooming, and the last good bye to the doctor that has been caring for him for long as he lived. It's unbelievable that he passed away in such good condition with paw trimmed and all.

God I miss you both.

[crimsun-n-clover]

i went to dollar tree today

i was going for craft shit. i keep getting rejected for all the delivery jobs i want so i’m trying to make silly little things that i could sell.

i like dollar tree because it makes me feel like there’s hope. i see things and design my trailer in my head. i pick which mugs i’ll use with my coffee maker, which wildflowers i’d plant outside, and which little trinkets i’d get for the kiddos.

i have a whole family of stray cats that i love ever so dearly. usually i can’t get close to them, but i feed them, bring them water, and talk to them in the hope that it improves their lives.

when i left dollar tree, i went around the back of the building because of where i was parked.

(this isn’t the dollar tree i went to last time, because at that one i dealt with the HORROR of seeing sugar’s sister employed there. by horrid chance i had just gotten a utility knife off the shelf there to carry with me in my battle vest, so if any rumors go around about homicidal intent that’s where that shit came from.)

when i went to the back i found a scrawny little black cat and threw out a handful of treats. he ate them up and i parked to get a can of the good wet food. the cat straight up walked over to me like we were friends. i gave him the food and he let me pet him, talk to him, play with him, all that. he has a scratchy little meow and he’s so fun. he was weaving between my legs and climbing all over me, purring and making biscuits. if i walked away, he would follow me. it was amazing. i made a new friend. he had bald spots and scars, as well as an ear notch, but he wasn’t neutered so it was definitely from a fight. he’s such a sweetheart and would roll over and lay on his back and paw at me.

i felt like a monster leaving him.

his name is ronnie and i will now dedicate myself to moving out so i can bring him home. he looks so sick and sad, but he’s so sweet and full of life. he only ate half of the can of tuna and gravy i gave him he’s so LITTLE. i can’t stand to leave him out there in the florida heat and constant floods, but i know i can’t bring him home.

my mom would absolutely kill me, my dad would question how i got him (and hanging out behind buildings is apparently not good), my bastard quarantine dog would eat him alive, and my spoiled sweet baby cat would be so jealous that he’d lose his absolute shit.

so instead of having four things in the way, i’m cool with just the one. i think ronnie and my boy would get along fine. they both are weirdly shaped black cats with green eyes that i found as baby ferals. they’re both affectionate and have silly little meows. i’m sure they’d be fine eventually.

ronnie being a stray is a bit of a problem. he’s not safe and i want him to be safe, but he’s in a really scary part of town for an animal or human. bears n heroin n all that mess. he’s probably covered in fleas and has ringworm or some shit, so i’d have to get him vet care before i could take him home, and there’s no way i can convince my parents. well, maybe my dad, but i’m not going through him for shit. and he’s so over protective of me that he’ll lose his mind about me trying to socialize ferals in bad areas.

my dad got one of his cats the same way. he was playing a bar show and met a stray in the parking lot that let him pet it and weaved between his legs, and he told his band that if the cat was still there after the set, he’d take it home. he was kinda joking, but when the cat was still there, he took it in.

hell, my dad was selling drugs at my age. get over yourself steven. your carbon copy lesbian bastard child is entitled to a little bit of tomfuckery. i’m not even doing anything wrong by normal person standards, my parents are just strict.

sometimes i’ll say something about being a bad person, but then my last remaining best friend will remind me that i found two baby raccoons in a walmart parking lot, fed them, named them, and now try to go check on them regularly. it’s just what i do.

i’m sure i’m the reincarnated motherfucker that found a wolf and just decided “yeah okay you can bite me a little bit because we’re besties now. what do you wanna eat sweetheart i have chicken and all that. yes you can have my entire bed. i sleep on the floor sometimes anyway.”

241 more days of lying, planning, suffering, and waiting to bring ronnie home.

[homelander-rp-blog]

She's taller than him when she's perched up on the counter, John's eyes unintentionally is drawn to her long, beautiful legs before she makes a grasp at his jaw, tilting his head up, his adam apple bobbing when he swallows, doesn't move a muscle, her touch sends a shiver down his spine, making him arch his back subtly Jesus just don't hump her now! and that's when he notices he's hard as a nail in his pants, awkwardly moves his legs to cover it. "well.. my daddy didn't raise a rude maniac.. he did raise a maniac but with manners" flashes a fond smile "if ain't a woman then what are you, kitten? Satan's spawn?" and throwing random sarcasms is what he's excellent at whenever he feels nervous or in danger, his tongue darts out to wet his lips, try not to play it as a salacious act "I'm afraid there's not a story in there, sweetheart. just me being an idiot for my entire life.. but girls like a marred man, no?" shit, he isn't sure if he's flirting right now or just babbling, it's been ages and he feels he's getting dry down there-

Finally, she lets go of him to eat, thank God, John tries to reel his thought to somewhere which doesn't involve her but can't help it, idly thinking if she was wearing a mini skirt, from his place he could take a peak- bites his tongue not to blurt a 'bet you got other interesting things under the belt, too' but stops himself a moment before ruining this peace "ah, such a pity.. wish I could give you my enemy's soul instead but guess I'm the first idiot handing over his own soul to you, eh?" he's only joking, no one likes to live in this world for so long "it does.. I just gonna hope mine won't be thrown to the deep level of hell, but, if hell is full of hot chicks, I wouldn't mind being thrown around" he gives a meaningful wink, raises his beer bottle for her "to my lil' demon's health then!" and goes up only to choke on the drink, coughs it out with a breathless laugh "who?! you?! you wanna.." placing the glass back on the counter, he pushes his empty plate away to prop up his foot on the counter, chair tilting back so he can look right at her face when they talk "you wanna run a ranch? didn't know it was between the options too. didn't peg you as a country girl" but then John notices the obvious change in her feature, how she talks about her family and gripping the counter too hard that her knuckles turn white, the blonde man is quick to shoot out of his chair, both hands wrapping gently around Eris' bony wrists "hey now.. hey" and tries to make her focus on him instead, a cloud of darkness covering over her always so bright eyes, John cups the side of her face, an act of instinct "yeah.. family can be bad sometimes.. God knows my own daddy used to beat me, and I wished for his death sometimes.." he grimaces, blue eyes looking sad "but not all of them are.. I uh.. my mom, she's a lovely woman. I think she'll like you if you two meet." chewing inside his cheek, his mind jumps to different branches to change the mood "look, we ever make it out alive, I'm gonna take you to my family's ranch, good? we got all types of animals in there.. uh.. goats, sheep! I'll even get you a cat, an orange one"

Their peaceful moment won't take long when a knock at the door interrupts them, John frown at the closed door "I don't expect anyone at this hour.." sure, Kevin is gonna visit him today but it's not the time "I swear if it's that kid from the upper floor.." looking around, he picks one of kitchen's knives and cautiously approaches the main entrance, his heart beating so loud in his ears "who's this?"

But no answer.

John opens the door, only a small gap to take a look at the visitor and gets hit in the face when whoever was behind, kicks it down. "it's from the Don, asshole!" two buff man rushing inside, and the first one kicks him right in his face, sending the knife in his hand flying across the floor "my fucking nose!" and there are blood everywhere. John tries to shield his head when they beat him. I should have known it, that pig sent his men for me! which will end up with him in the hospital, bad ending. John just hopes Eris gets her soul at the end, he wasn't someone to make a promise and break it.

"maybe the cat would like me for that very reason. A ginger one would be cute, or even a black cat, spook all the kids in the area." she smirked in amusement over the idea. "virgin demon, you're so funny." but she did laugh, that was a small achievement, she could probably have got him a gold medal for that one. either way those little berries popped into her mouth so easily, she loved the crunch of them fresh from the fridge. grapes were something she'd once dreamed of tasting. "when i say last time i was around it just means that it's been some time... but time works differently down there."

There was a pause, a way that she stared at him, her head slowly tilting, like she was learning every small fact in what he said, judging his soul and not his being but that wicked little smirk was everything and more. that smirk was what some people would sin for, even the holiest of men. "i think you'd look fantastic strapped to a chair, John." she remarked firstly with all the amusement trapped in the curl of her lips. "Oh, so you find me gorgeous?" Eris quipped onto that quickly. "Also, what's to say that I don't enjoy old you? I like the way you... view things, and I like the way you cook." with another swift motion she'd put another grape to her lips and crunched into it's skin, a soft hum of appreciation. "Meow." she played into the joke, but she was the luckiest black cat you could wish for.

"I've seen them, I like them.." she spoke a little softer, and without warning reached across, some of that smoke she moved in followed her and the surprisingly gentle way she reached her hand to run across the skin of his arm but it was her eyes that traced where she knew his scars to be. "They remind me of my own." she admitted. Glamour was a fantastic thing, it meant she could appear however she liked and most demons picked to look like someone they'd known or idolized in their life, Eris chose to be exactly as she was. Exactly as she'd been as a human, but her scars.... they reminded her so brutally of her death. "No need to apologies, I'm not much of a lady." Oh but she was, better than most. She flitted again, that is what she called the motion where she'd disperse, flitting. This time she was perched before him on the counter surface, one leg crossed over the other and bobbing up and down. Eris reached to take his chin, like he'd made him look at her days prior, she did the same to him. "I do like your scars John, they give you character, they tell me stories and I like the stories." Perhaps that was the nicest extension of humanity she could offer him on that.

"Bon patie!" she copied, this humming delight took her, it was the most content the demon looked when she was eating. " I've got a lot of souls under my belt..." she was truthful with that, but her eyes glued to him, trying to decipher his reaction and sometimes it was like Eris was studying his soul for response. "Souls give me power... that is how we rise up. I think humans believe we eat souls? That isn't it, it's sort of like... the more that belong to us, the more power we're granted, that type of thing. Some demons the lower level kind, they don't have the resolve to do what is required. Let's say you're summoned and someone wishes someone dead, you can take their soul in exchange for the chore you'd do for them, that's how it starts on the low levels and some can't do it. They are the weak, incapable. They are the ones I'd send to the pits, the hot coals, does that make... some sort of sense?"

She seemed happy in those moments but she had appreciation for food, especially when he'd cooked and it was still hot. "Why don't I run the ranch? I like animals, more than people. People are.." she pulled a face but it didn't last long before her eyes filled with utter darkness. If it was John's turn to study her, he'd find bitterness and hatred, a lack of mercy to their existence. "If my line continued I wish them plague and hunger, I would beg my highest for their damnation and revel in the glory of watching it. and I, do not beg for anything." there was no pause, no hesitation. She didn't know that she was digging her fingernails so firmly into the way that it was chipping beneath her grip, the tips of her fingers turning white from the pressure. "I hope they live in fear of my name."

[wolken-himmel]

In which Riddle can't just idly watch as (Y/n) fails in her Animal Language class; so, he decides to kindly offer his help to her, like the good upperclassman he is.

Their tutoring sessions take place in the Heartslabyul garden with the flamingos.

Sadly, (Y/n) is so bad at animal language that she accidentally asks a flamingo if he wants to marry her, which gets Riddle jealous.

Request by @piebrsstuff and @taruwuchi.

"I apologise for saying this, Ms. (L/n), but you are absolutely hopeless with Animal Language. You cannot seem to understand the difference between a 'meow' and a 'meow'."

Trein's usually so stern and hard eyes were slightly softened as they bore into yours with such an intensity that you felt your stomach churn. The wrinkles on his aged face were especially visible with the big frown he wore, an expression induced by you and your inability to understand simple animal language.

You furrowed your eyebrows and threw your hands into the air. "Professor Trein, those two 'meows' sounded the same."

Trein exhaled whilst pinching the bridge of his nose in utter frustration — in all his years here at NRC, he had never met someone who was so bad at this class.

"That's exactly your problem," he muttered as he ran his hand through Lucius' fur to keep his composure. "Maybe it is because the people from your world do not seek to attempt understanding their animals?"

Scratching the back of your neck, you shook your head with an unsure frown on your face. "Well, I think we simply lack the magical affinity to understand them."

The corners of your professor's lips dropped down into a disappointed and pitiful frown at your words — a world where people couldn't understand their pets? That surely must be hell. Looking down at his precious cat, Trein muttered, "How sad. Nonetheless, I cannot let you pass this class if you cannot understand even the simplest greetings of animal language, Ms. (L/n)."

Your jaw fell down at his words; you knew you were bad, but you didn't expect to be such an absolute loser in animal language that you were threatening to fail. A feeling of utter helplessness overwhelmed you, one that made you just want to crawl under your bed sheet and never come out again. You hated feeling this way of being utterly lost — but right now, it seemed like there was nothing you could do.

"I... I just can't get a grasp on it!" you cried out, at the end of your wits.

Trein's eyes softened in pity, but he couldn't play favourites with you. So, a small frown on his face, he calmly explained, "If you fail the next test, you'll have to take special private classes with me." You had your eyes glued to the floor, not daring to look up in fear that you would begin to cry. Realising that you had no questions and nothing to say, Trein turned away from you and strode over to his desk. "Dismissed."

Your legs moved automatically as they carried you out of the empty classroom, your heart as heavy as stone. Throat completely dry and eyes wet, you felt like a leaf being pushed around by the wind against its will.

Once you pushed the door open and exited the classroom, you didn't look up and instead marched straight down the corridor. Therefore, you missed the Heartslabyul dorm leader that had been patiently waiting for you outside all this time.

Riddle awkwardly cleared his throat to stop you from walking past him. "(Y/n)."

"Oh hey, Riddle..." You hid your face to prevent a few sniffles from coming out of your throat. Shooting him a weak smile, you asked, "Do you need something?"

Riddle felt his heart break at how sad you seemed; yet, the thought of him being your knight in shining armour to save you from the fiery hell that would be bad grades kept him in high spirits. Shooting you a small smile, he retorted, "Well, yes." You hummed and tilted your head to the side, urging him to go on. Riddle's throat felt dry as he was about to wipe that smile off your face. "You just broke a rule of the Queen of Hearts. Rule 69: 'Never fail a class.' Do you understand me?"

His words made your feelings of despair even worse. Burying your face in your trembling hands, you wailed, "But! But I just suck at Animal Language!" Riddle sighed as he put a hand on your shoulder, having to look away before he would just slap himself for making you this sad. "Riddle, there's nothing I can do..."

Riddle shook his head with a big scowl on his face. Raising his voice, he exclaimed, "Wrong! Before I'll push any punishment on you for breaking a rule, I'd rather tutor you." Your breath hitched at his words, and you slowly removed your palms to hesitantly look up at him with glossy eyes. Riddle's heart skipped a beat at the relieved smile that appeared on your face. "B-But only because you'd break a rule otherwise!"

"You would do that?!" you asked, your voice filled with disbelief. "Oh, you're so kind, Riddle!"

Riddle gulped down hard as he tensed up. "I-I know."

"Alright, see you later, then!" you chirped, your spirits high already, as you shot him one last wink before skipping down the corridor to your next class.

Riddle watched you until you disappeared around the corner, an unusually soft smile on his face. "Rule 420: 'Always help your loved ones.'"

•••

You were in a good mood as you gently pushed open the entrance to the Heartslabyul garden. Eyes wandering across the vast area, you found a figure sitting on a bench, obstructed from your view by the well-taken care of rose bushes. You peeked around the corner to find your tutor sitting on a bench nearby. He looked quite relaxed with how he was holding a hedgehog in his palms, cuddling the little being close to his chest. He seemed so calm, so relaxed — so much that you didn't want to disturb his calm.

Yet, you eventually stepped out from behind the rose bush and approached him. "Riddle! Wow, you're so early..." you chimed, completely catching him off-guard. A shrill shriek escaped his throat as he jumped in surprise, his nerves accidentally causing him to throw the small hedgehog up into the air. Luckily, it landed on his head again, nestling itself into his soft hair.

Riddle's cheeks were completely red as he stared up at you with his back as straight as a candle. You shot him an apologetic smile as you picked the little animal out of his hair and set it down to the floor again. That gave Riddle enough time to regain his composure.

Taking a deep breath, Riddle proudly exclaimed, "Of course I am!" He watched you with careful eyes as you sat down next to him on the bench. "I've never been late to anything, you know. Arriving on time is very important."

"Hm, it sure is." You hummed whilst keeping your gaze trained on the little hedgehog strolling away from you and back to its friends. Letting out a soft giggle, you muttered, "Ah, the flamingos and hedgehogs are so adorable!"

Riddle hummed, feeling quite satisfied when he noticed the admiration in your eyes. "They are. We take care of them well; croquet matches are quite exhausting, after all," he said, trailing off when you turned your head to to him. He temporarily lost track of what he was talking about, but he quickly snapped out of it again. "But that's not what you're here for. Shall we begin with today's tutoring session?"

"Yes, I'd love that!"

Riddle nodded while his gaze travelled over to one of the pink animals standing in the distance; then he turned back to you. "Alright. I'll ask one of the flamingos to come over, so you can talk to them," he explained, to which you hummed to show that you had understood him. Riddle took a deep breath before letting a scrawny squeak escape his throat, one that made the flamingo in question perk up and stroll over to you two curiously. Riddle laughed softly as the flamingo nudged your hand. "Mr. Pink said he's pleased to make your acquaintance."

A little bit awkward, you patted the confident animal's head. "Oh hello, Mr. Pink!"

Riddle frowned a little bit when you wouldn't respond to the flamingo's excited squeaks with words in his language. Instead, you cooed sweet nothings in a language the animal couldn't understand. "Why don't you try to speak with him in his language?" the red-head asked as he scooted closer to you.

A nervous giggle escaped your lips, feeling a little bit embarrassed when you looked up at Riddle to ask, "Uhm... what is he saying?"

Riddle sighed, finally realising how really hopeless you were. Crossing his arms, he casually said, "You're pretty." Only when your eyes widened in utter surprise did he realise how he shouldn't have just said it like that. Shooting forward and waving his arms around wildly, Riddle's face turned red. "Wait! Wait! That's what the flamingo said— I was just translating!"

A smile broke out on your face and you extended a hand to ruffle his hair. "Aw, Riddle. No need to get so worked up about all of this!" you cooed, to which he bit his lip to not spew curses at you. If it were anyone but you, he would have cut off your head already. Ignoring the steam coming out of the boy's ears, you instead began playing with the flamingo that had laid his head into your lap. "Oh, aren't you adorable?"

The flamingo let out delighted cooes as you dragged your hand across his head. Riddled sighed as he muttered, "I want hugs."

"You do?" You temporarily stopped petting the flamingo to look at Riddle with wide eyes.

Riddle buried his face in his palms as he pressed out in exasperation, "Again, that's what the flamingo said!" Laughter spilt from your lips at how embarrassed he seemed. You knew that his composure was pretty much nonexistent, but you didn't think it could be this bad. Yet, when you weren't looking, Riddle peeked out from behind his hands, his voice as low as a small whisper. "But I wouldn't be too adversed by such an idea, truth be told..."

You were far too distracted by the flamingo jumping onto the bench and sprawling himself across your lap, his wings flapping up and down in utter excitement. Amused, you ran your hand across the feathers on his stomach, to which he let out more squeaks. When you temporarily stopped, the animal grew angry.

You delved into the depths of your mind, asking yourself, "Hm... how does one ask if one can touch his wings?" Your hums caused the flamingo to calm down again, and it instead wrapped its claws playfully around your finger. Thinking you had found the correct answer, you finally opened your mouth to let a few shrieks escape your throat. The flamingo responded with an eager shriek before lovingly pecking your face with his beak. "Huh?!"

Riddle didn't know whether he should laugh or cry as he began to explain, "You just asked him if he wants to marry you—" He narrowed his eyes at the animal fussing all over you, giving you a hard time to keep him away from you. Riddle gritted his teeth together, trying to not hex the animal. "And the cheeky flamingo said yes..."

Nervous laughter escaped your lips as you tried to push the excited animal away from you. "Excuse me, sir flamingo—" you cried out, a little bit unsure what to do next. You could try to rectify your mistake by saying something else to your new fiance, but you fully knew you would only make it worse if you tried to say more in the flamingo language.

Riddle pushed the flamingo off of you and yelled, "Back off! She's taken." The flamingo arrogantly flayed his wings before stomping off gracefully, not before shooting you one last wink. Riddle calmed down visibly once the animal was far enough away from you. Turning back to you, he let out a sigh. "Huh, you really need to work on your skills, (Y/n). But fret not, I'm here, after all."

Taking his hands into yours, you cooed, "Hehe, taken by whom~" You relished in the way his face heated up in embarrassment; teasing the poor boy was just so much fun — no wonder why it was Ace and Deuce's hobby. Tilting your head to the side, you put an innocent smile onto your face. "Taken by you, mayhaps?"

"H-Hey! We're getting sidetracked here!" he cried out, his voice high-pitched and desperate. "You might not get a hundred percent if—"

You interrupted him by letting go of his hands and shooting him a big smile that never failed to make his heart leap high. "Thanks for everything, Riddle," you said, an apologetic look flashing across your eyes due to all your teasing. Deciding not to test his patience today, you grabbed the books from your bag you had taken with you. "Now, can we return to improving my animal language skills?"

"Y-Yes sure." Riddle's breathing seemed still quite quick, yet he otherwise looked like he had calmed down well enough to talk to you normally again. Puffing his chest proudly, he exclaimed, "You'll get a perfect score thanks to me!"

And indeed, you magically got a perfect score, thanks to Riddle. It mostly was because the test's main question coincidentally was: 'How do you say, 'Do you want to marry me,' in flamingo language?' And in that field, you were an expert.

[violetparakeetdraweroffurries]

My ideal leader/deputy picks based on the existing characters:

TC: Squirrelflight/Ivypool. A lot of people say that Squirrel's too old to be leader, but honestly I think she's got enough energy and passion for her age to lead for a few years. She's also the best pick ThC has, having shown herself to be proactive, reasonable, and righteous repeatedly in the face of Bramble's impotence. Squirrelstar is the holder of the braincell in gatherings, the team mom. Ivy would be an interesting first choice, seeing as she's mellowed out since her youth to a tough but well-meaning mentor to Twigpaw but has leftover resent towards Dovewing, I think she'll be a serviceable enough deputy to not instantly crash and burn, and it'll be neat to watch her struggle with the role, especially since my picks for ShC are...

ShC: Clovertail/Lightleap. Most of the ShC cats have little in the way of personality, so I'll default to the current deputy. Supposedly she has the makings of a leader. Lightleap is more interesting. She's a disaster, a drama-queen if you will, and she's bound to fuck up with style under the pressure of being ShC's 2nd in command. Their boring leader/interesting deputy combo should be ShC's comedy routine. Cloverstar picked Light bc she wanted a young deputy & Lightleap was the only young adult who has a personality. Maybe she gets a couple bonding moments w/ Shadowsight, both being siblings put into roles of importance they are unprepared for. Plus, drama with her aunt. I think tough, dour Ivypool & disaster himbo Lightleap would be a fun duo, and guaranteed to have a lot of twists and turns regarding Dovewing in particular.

RC: Mothwing/Frostpaw. I want healer-leader drama and these two have it in spades. Mothwing's obvious; she's a misotheist who's been mistreated repeatedly by her Clan and just wants to be a healer. Having her be forced to confront her loved ones as they force 9 lives upon her would be an immensely tragic and cathartic moment to her, and I'd love to see what wild directions she takes RC as a result. I want her to hold StarClan hostage. Frostpaw is more based on theories, but it's implied that her connection to StarClan and her legitimacy as a healer is not what it seems, and she's being used as a pawn by her own family (namely, Splashtail, but Podlight & Duskfur are pretty sus too). Her becoming deputy would be fun to play with as she becomes increasingly disillusioned with StarClan just as Leafpool did, and she kinda becomes a foil to a bunch of other cats. Perhaps she's there bc she's Splashtail and co's pawn, and as both a healer and a deputy, she holds immense over RC, power that she's not ready to handle...

SkC: Kitescratch/Wrenflight. Fuck no I don't want Hawk-fucking-star. Kite is a mean basic bitch. He would start fights with the WC pick for leader for the title of "Meanest Bitch". Wren is the deputy solely bc she has "sad little orphan all alone in a wet cardboard box" vibes, and it's the opposite of what you'd want in a deputy, but she'll pull it off somehow. Kite & Wren together is painful to watch, but they somehow make a functional team.

WC: Breezepelt/Heathertail. Crowfeather should go explode. It's just funny. Heather & Breeze are the only WC cats with personalities, so I'll default to them. Breezestar should be the token grouchy conservative of the leaders and get into sparring matches w/ Ivypool & Kitestar. That's the only reason I'm putting him up as leader. Heather is more mellow, she's there to provide gossip and ramble about the good old days.

[sagendipity]

reminder i'm sage i used to be notplanningshit until i accidentally deleted my blog so now im reposting my works!

info: quackity x reader, gn!reader, hurt/comfort, no warnings

on frizzy hair and the pursuit of perfection

Intellectually, in the rational side of your brain, you know that what you’re feeling is stupid.

You see the Instagram posts talking about the importance of self-affirmation and mental health. You see the tweets saying that people are more than their family’s perception of them. You realize that having a condescending and judgmental family is almost a right of passage for your generation.

These are all things you know, intellectually. But knowing something intellectually does jack shit for actually convincing your heart of whatever you know. You can yell at yourself all you want, but it’s clearly not your rational brain making you tear up at yet another text from your dad that was along the lines of “cool, could be better, though.”

You just want someone, just once, to celebrate an achievement with you. You want to be excited to share something with someone, without fear of them scoffing in the face of your pride and excitement. In your family- hell, in the world, certainly- someone has always done better, and you’re damn sure to be reminded of such.

It’s been years of this same behavior, ever since you can remember. It’s not just your dad, either, it’s your whole family- aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins. The whole town you grew up in had this haughty, arrogant air about it, where everyone was constantly competing, even if there was no reason for it. Take the hardest classes, get the least sleep, get the biggest scholarship. Even your friends would flex their better test scores at you, and refuse to help you with the homework, in case you somehow got a better score on a test than them. You know it’s how they were raised, they’re just a product of their environment and don’t know how bad it hurts, but it still stung then, and probably always will. You’re still in contact with a few of them, and it’s just more of the same whenever you exchange a handful of quick texts every couple months.

You know you should stop giving information about your achievements to them, but when your dad texts and asks how you are, there’s not much you can reply with other than “good, got a promotion at work!” From there, it’s a slippery slope of him asking what new benefits you got, and then the judgmental few moments where the gray dots disappear and reappear while he tries to compose his thoughts about your inadequacy in the least-abrasive way a middle-aged man can. That is to say, not un-abrasively at all. In fact, his words are often delivered with the finesse of low-grit sandpaper on soft wood.

Well, could be more. Work harder and maybe you’ll get an increase next month. I got a lot of bonuses at work when I was your age. All you have to do is take the bad shifts and get some good customer reviews. You’ll get there.

You stare at the fresh new message on your phone screen before clicking it off with a bone-deep sigh, your eyes betraying your rational side by, again, tearing up. You shove the heels of your hands into your eyes and rub until the tears are forced away and you see spots.

That’s how Alex finds you, sat on the foot of your shared bed with your hands rubbing fiercely at your eyes. He’s probably just come to grab a hoodie- the setting sun brings with it a cool breeze that washes through your open windows and cools the house from the warmth it’d gathered from the day’s sun.

“You good?” He asks, opening his closet door and pulling out a hoodie. He wrestles it on over his head as he waits for your response- when he pushes his head out the other end, hair mussed and static-y, you still haven’t answered. “Baby?”

He comes and sits down next to you. Your eyes, red-rimmed but still dry, track his movements before flicking to catalog every tuft of disheveled hair protruding from his head. With a superficial smile, you reach up to smooth his long, black locks back and down into place. It doesn’t matter; he’s going to slip on a beanie sooner or later, but for now, you distract yourself by combing gentle fingers through the soft strands.

“Not that I don’t appreciate this,” Alex murmurs, brown eyes searching your face for an answer to what has you upset. “But what’s wrong?”

“Just my dad,” you whisper, not trusting your voice not to crack. You avoid his gaze, keeping your eyes fixed stubbornly on his hair as you finish your work. “There. You looked like a hedgehog.”

He huffs a little laugh, but scoots closer to you and grabs a hand out of your lap- you’d curled your hands into tight fists, your nails digging little red crescents into your palm. He uncurls the hand he’s holding and reaches for the other, but you save him the work by instead grabbing onto your own thigh tightly, redirecting the frustration. He rubs small circles into the aching skin of your other palm while he waits for you to gather yourself and explain, now that the ice has been broken on the topic.

“He always acts like whatever I do is just not quite good enough for him. They all do- him, my mom, even my fucking friends.” You rub your free hand down your face, trying to alleviate some tension. It does not work. “I don’t know why I’m still upset. They’ve been doing it forever.”

“That’s probably why you’re still upset. You hope they’d grown up enough to stop doing that.” Alex presses his thumb into the center of your palm. It grounds you, and you swallow around the lump in your throat.

“It’s not even a matter of immaturity- it’s not as simple as a pissing contest. It’s just who they are. They don’t think perfection exists, but they want me to achieve it anyways.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. That sounds exhausting.”

He sounds so sincere, so genuine, like the idea of you being treated this way is deeply upsetting to him. You’d never really… experienced that. Someone recognizing your struggle, and admitting that it must fucking suck is something you’d never been graced with.

His brow is furrowed in a display of concern, eyes gentle and searching. He’s not lying, he means what he said, and he’s not going to follow it up with a “but-,”.

Eyes beginning to sting again, you lean forward until you’re resting your forehead on his shoulder. The soft fabric of his hoodie immediately calms you, along with the warmth you can feel emanating from him. It makes sense, after all, that the personification of pure sunshine would have such warmth about them.

Alex scoots forward, gathering you more closely in his arms, his legs awkwardly folded so that you can sit right in front of him. His hands come up to hold you, one fisting in the fabric of your sweatshirt, and the other resting on the back of your neck, gentle, but firm. You let out a shuddering breath, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. Not going to cry.

“I got a promotion at work,” you mutter, taking a long, deep breath. You brace yourself, waiting for a dismissive response. “That’s what set my dad off- I got- he-.”

Your voice cracks, and you trail off with a small sigh, clutching at Alex’s hoodie even tighter. It’s thick and soft under your fingers, and you knead at it like a cat.

“A promotion?! Baby, that’s amazing!” Alex pulls back just enough to take a glance at you, his own expression steeling from excitement back to sadness as he sees that you are still fighting back tears. “Sweetheart, I think you’re the only person to ever cry after getting a promotion.”

A little laugh escapes your chest, huffy and wet, but still a laugh. Alex’s lips curl into a smile as he reaches up to smooth back some of your stray hairs, like you’d done for him a moment or two ago. You smile, reaching up to intercept his hand, and lace the two of you’s fingers together.

He squeezes your hand where it’s resting in his grip, looking at your linked fingers briefly. “Also, your family is wrong.”

“About what specifically?” You huff, wiping at your eyes for hopefully the final time.

“About perfection not existing. It does, and I know exactly what it looks like.” Despite the serious words, Alex is fighting back a smile. You narrow your eyes at him, already anticipating the next thing he’s going to say. “It looks like you, dumbass.”

You groan, feeling a hot blush rise to your cheeks immediately. You tip forward to bury yourself in Alex’s neck, this time hiding your flustered face and stupidly happy grin.

“I can feel your smile against my neck, you know.”

“Oh, fuck off-.”

With the hand that’s on the back of your neck, Alex coaxes you out of hiding just to press a kiss to your forehead. “Really. I am proud of you. I don’t want you to be afraid to tell me about your achievements because of what your family has done to you.”

“Okay,” you whisper again, voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”

He hums in response, tilting his head and looking at you with what can only be described as pure fondness in his eyes. Then, he leans down to meet you for a delicate kiss, and your eyes finally stop stinging.

[justyoureverydaytwstsimp]

Crystal

"OMG SHE IS SO NICE AND CARING. She literally gives like… a Deuce maybe! BUT NOT STUPID. Like she’s dedicated, and she does what she needs to do in order to have a better life for her and her friends! Kinda like Gon I think!"

--Yes, you see the good in Crystal which many in-universe characters don't. But fr, that's pretty accurate.

"OMG LIKE SHE REALIZED SHE WAS A CHARACTER FROM A BOOK, BUT SHE DOESN’T BLAME THE AUTHOR BECAUSE OF IT. She is so empathetic! (Something most twst boys lack)"

--OMG I DIDN'T REALIZE THAT, BUT THAT'S SO IN-CHARACTER FOR HER

"I wonder what happens when she turns angry, or someone hurts her friends or something. Like can she easily compose herself or is she more prone to explode under extreme pressure like that? And i mean when it’s like, the event that happened was deliberate and intentional (not like this because the Author didn’t know her characters were ‘real’ so to say). How would she react?"

--hehe I have book on that. Like, I literally wrote them a book (10 chapters I think) but that was all i got planned out. I'll send it to you, so you'll know how badass she is usually (but yes she is wet cat)

"OMG I JUST WENT BACK AND SAW THAT HER AND PHILLIPINE ARE RIVALS?!? Light Blue and Dark Red right?!?! I’m pretty sure, correct me if I’m wrong, none of them really want to fight each other. Like Phillipine doesn’t want to fight her, and Crystal just wishes to end the blooshed from the generational war, so is someone or something forcing them to fight? Perhaps they were two people on different sides of the war, and they were forced to be rivals, even though they both ultimately want the same thing? OMG SO LIKE A PARALLEL? Like they both want to achieve the same goal, but through different means?"

--OMG YOU MENTIONED THE WAR. Like this is so accurate, except Crystal deludes herself and hides the "i don't wanna kill Phillipines" deep in her heart.

" I don’t know much about Phillipine’s character yet, BUT I AM SO INTRIGUED LIKE ACTUALLY THO PLSLSLSLSLSLSL I’M ACTING LIKE A VICTORIAN MAN SEEING ANKLES FOR THE FIRST TIME. "

-Honestly, same. We need more of ph. (I wrote a fic completely in his perspective, but it's in a modern au/no-war au)

Wait so how does each side of the war operate differently, like in terms of world building?

-I think I explained this in Tsutsi's reblog but basically only the Dark Red (currently Crystal) and the LIght Blue (Phillipines) battle to the death. The in-universe explanation for this is "because it's always been that way" and the secret "the 54th generation of LIght Blue and Dark Red decided not to involve their citizens after too many of them died", but like the IRL explanation is that little me disliked war immensely (I think it's stupid), and I wanted them to be at war without the actual war/without side characters dying (i feel sad).

--Also, the war is like hereditary. Along with the powers. Crystal has the Dark Red sword, which is summonable through thinking, and could cut anything. She also has like a stomach that can eat any poison and not die (which is probably why her cooking is so bad).

--Phillipines could summon the Light Blue Shield, which is impenetrable and could be any size he desires (up to his whole city, I think) + can turn transparent and translucent. Also, he has regeneration basically and could totes be revived from being stabbed in the heart (Crystal tried). It's a pretty slow process, but Aqua makes it happen in a matter of minutes. This is because the Light Blue won more battles than the Dark Red these past 10 generations or something. Bad side to it though is that Phillipines can't reach old age (dies at 60 or smth)

--Also, they're both the 100th generation of the Light Blue and Dark Red born, and the 99th in the endless war.

--Also, as you can tell, I've had this story for YEARS now. (I wrote 8, but it could be earlier than that)

"BUT OMG I JUST REALIZED CRYSTAL IS DARK RED, THE COLOR OF BLOOD, BUT SHE DOESN’t WANT BLOODSHED. IS IT LIKE- She and Phillipine are two people on the wrong side of the war? This is totally speculation, but maybe Phillipine is more anchored to ‘end the war no matter the cost or casualities’ and Crystal is like ‘end the war without bloodshed’."

--the first wrong one you got!! Like, i'm impressed by how accurate you are throughout this post, and was kinda suspecting mind-reading, but at least this proves otherwise

--It's actually the other way around!! Phillipines is the one that doesn't want bloodshed. He sees that Crystal is a kind-hearted soul to everyone but him (since she has to kill him), and is trying to, you know, not kill her. Honestly, Ph is so OP!! His power basically means that he can't be killed, and since he's been training in swordsmanship for a while now, he could totally land a fatal blow on Crystal. However, he doesn't, because he loves her he knows she's a good person. He tries to talk to her and convince her to make a truce, but Crystal's motto (when it comes to Ph, at least) is stab now, talk later. But I think it's working, and she is slowly seeing his side of the story. (And then they kith)

--To be able to kill Phillipines, Crystal deludes herself into thinking Phillipines is the villain, a tyrant who makes everyone's lives worse. This could not be farther from the truth (Ph cares about his country so much that sometimes he forgets to eat/sleep cause he's overworking himself), but Phillipines's soulless eyes makes him easy to dehumanize. Crystal is usually a very good girl, she's the sweetest sweetheart in the land, but her country demands that she kill some random guy. And she can't let her country down, can she? (toxic counselors/advisors)

"Also, are there any character flaws that affect her throughout the story? "

--A lot. Like running from her problems/the truth cause it makes it harder for her. Also, that girl has no sense of boundaries. (Aqua too!)

OH YEAH AND ✨backstory stuff✨ I WANNA KNOW ALL THE DEETS

--I'll yap abt this in another day

I do love crystals character!!!! I cant wait to see lore about her!!! IM ACTUALLY SO CURIOUS FOR UR OCS OMGMGMG

--Here's the ~Lore~!! Hope you enjoyed!

HELLO 👋. Hope school treated you nicely! Also do you know "Our Life"? ALSO me and sis watched ninjago yesterday. Do you know ninjago? What were your childhood shows? Do you prefer it episodic or long arching lore backstory thing.

Anyways, I've come here to do my part of the deal (for real this time) featuring my OCs. (Btw Julian and Peter come from a different book/universe separate from Phillipines and the rest) (Also yes I know, Phillipines is a weird name for an OC since that's a country, but in my defense, I was 5 and he had a little USA flag on his pony toy butt and i didn’t know other countries beside my own)

Now let us begin~

"To Sever The Bonds"

Crystal looked at the little girl on the screen. She was so young. How could such a sweet little thing be the reason for all of Crystal's suffering. She remembered the nights where it was painful to even look at her hands, with the blood of the innocent (Phillipines) tainting them, and her heart ached. Now she learns that all of the killing and the bloodshed and the endless war was meaningless, crafted for entertainment, crafted by a little girl.

While Crystal was busy staring at the screen, Phillipines's full attention was on Crystal. It was odd, seeing Crystal so quiet. He preferred Crystal being loud and bursting with energy in everything she does, like she usually was. The quietness disturbed him, it worried him deeply. At least when she was trying to cut his head off, her passion was still there, burning bright like a beautiful blaze.

The chilling silence was broken by Crystal. "She's...young", Crystal says. "Indeed", Aqua replied. "If I'm not mistaken, Author is currently eight years old." That was indeed quite young, quite so very young.

"Is she a good girl?", Crystal asked, her glossy eyes meeting Aqua's. "Yeah!", Aqua replied, "She's a very good girl, always helping her mama and papa. And very Godly too!" (Aqua was definitely not bribed to say that. He was definitely not given a limited edition Kalatsutsi poster, okay? No more questions.)

Crystal looked at Aqua, hesitant but hopeful. It was obvious now that she had been crying, with glass-like tears trailing down her pretty face. She looked at him, her eyes filled with desperation."Do you think", she began, "do you think she (the author) could change all of this? Do you think I could somehow bargain with her for an end to all these bloodshed?"

Aqua looked at Crystal pitifully. It was a very complicated matter, after all. Bargaining with the author is possible, but she hardly ever changes Canon. This universe could have a peaceful ending, but the multiverse at large will continue as usual, bloody war and all. Aqua struggled explaining all this to someone who just learned she was a character from a book. Just kidding. Aqua never struggles.

"Basically, yeah. It's possible. Pretty easy, even. However---Aqua was unable to finish his sentence because he was rudely interrupted by Crystal grabbing his arms and jumping up and down. "That's wonderful", Crystal says, giving Aqua a bone-crushing hug. "How do we do it? How do we bargain with her??"

Crystal fell down, flat on the floor, for Aqua had poofed out of her embrace. "As I was saying", Aqua said, reappering behind Kalatsutsi's back (for protection), "it'll only happen in this world. The other Crystals in the other worlds will still be forced to fight itty bitty Phillipines." Everyone in the room (?) looked confused. Aqua shrugged. "Multiverse stuff."

Crystal pondered on this. If she were to do this, only she would be happy, free from her chains. The other Crystals would still be forced to fight. But on the other hand, how could she pass up the opportunity to end it all. She'd do anything to escape from this burden placed upon her (as long as it didn't harm others). But doesn't this still harm others? Aren't her other selves hurting? Crystal's head was beginning to ache from all these complicated thoughts.

Seeing this, Phillipines spoke up. "If I understand correctly," he began, "you are saying there is a way for the Light Blue and Dark Red to live in peace?"

Aqua nods, stating that it has actually happened a couple of times."And no matter what we do, whether we choose peace in this world or not, it would not change the fate of these other Crystals?" Phillipines clarified this for one reason, to strike a peace between the Light Blue (him) and the Dark Red (Crystal). In all honesty, he was tired of constantly parrying Crystal's blows. But for some reason, Aqua interpreted this as Phillipines flirting, giving Phillipines a supportive thumbs up and wink.

"I would like to bargain with the author, for peace," said Crystal and Phillipines at the same time. Everyone looked at them, shocked. It was no surprise to Aqua though, because they were made to be (literally).

"I-if we were to stop this generational war, we should probably work together or something." Phillipines said, though his voice was squeakier than usual. Crystal looked at Phillipines's outstreached hand and, after a moment of hesitation, grasps it tightly. "Alright", she says, her voice filled with determination. Crystal looks at Aqua. "What does the author want?"

"Marriage." Said Aqua. The whole room froze.

Everyone suddenly felt a bit colder, many of them rubbing their arms awkwardly. "Marriage", someone repeats, from the back of the room, but it felt like more of a question. "Yep!" Aqua replied, "Between these two." Aqua pointed at Phillipines and Crystal. Phillipines refused to look Crystal in the eye.

Aqua continued, defending himself from Phillipines judgemental gaze. "It's true", whined Aqua. "There are many universes where you guys are arranged married to stop the war." This was an exaggeration, of course, for there was only one universe (or was it five) that this event happened. But Aqua is very dramatic.

Phillipines looked at Crystal. Did he feel a little guilty? Maybe. Was he semi-sure this is just another ruse of Aqua's to get him and Crystal together? Yes. But in the off-chance that what Aqua said was true, would he be willing to take that chance?

Crystal spoke, interrupting his train of thought. "Let's do it then. I'll do what I must." Then, she kissed him. She kissed Phillipines. On the lips. HOLY MACARONI, I JUST GOT KISSED--

Aqua appeared behind them, and pronounced them husband and wife. Crystal held her husband's(!?) hand gently, saying that she'll do her best. Phillipines is hardly processing what is happening. Kalatsutsi is also very confused (her sister just kissed her crush + best friend), but she's resigned to it, for peace. All in all, a very happily ever after.

The End.

"Hey! What about us!?" shouted Julian. He grabbed Aqua (who was just very nicely narrating the end of the story) and shaked him over and over again. "We're still stuck in this weird other-world place. Bring us home! You DO NOT get to end this story without bringing me back home to my castle and my wife-fiancee. HEY LISTEN TO ME!! I demand you, heathen--

And then the scene fades to black. Because it does. And the story ends. Screw you, Julian.

(I'd like to know your opinions on these characters. Like little headcanons you have of them. That would be nice)

OMG SO WAIT THATS ACTUALLY SO COOL, SO- OKAY HERE GOES

Aqua

I think hes like omnipotent right? To be able to communicate with the author (which is a SICK IDEA IN FACT (GREAT MINDS THINK ALIKE BECAUSE… well… YOU’LL SEE!))

THIS GUY IS ACTUALLY A MENACE dude I imagine his face to just look like 😼 WHEN HE GOT PHILLIPINES AND CRYSTAL TOGETHER

Bro is doing ANYTHING to get these two people together… ID WANT HIM AS MY WINGMAN BRO 😭

“Yo aqua how many universes do I get married with my crushy wushy in 😩😫”

Aqua: “Wait just one moment… Oh, how unfortunate, woe is me! There are none, my dear.”

“OH HELL NAH ‼️‼️😡😡😡”

DUDE AQUA KINDA REMINDS ME OF CROWLEY… Not like entirely of course! But the amount of power he has to be able to know this stuff, and since he gives off like a mysterious vibe to me… He is kinda crowley like! I guess it also comes from the like- he is kinda nonchalant! He seems like the type of person to look happy and unassuming, but does have some interior motives. So actually maybe a bit more like Jade! But definitely a touch more enthusiastic! That was my impression of him anyway!

WAIT ALSO DOES AQUA HAVE A CRUSH ON KALATSUTSI OR IS SHE JUST HIS FAV CHARACTER OR SOMETHING OR OR IS SHE LIKE HIS SIDEKICK WAIT WIAG IMA DO A WHOLE ONE ON HER I do feel bad for her tho… imagine ur sister marrying your crush, and you cant even feel sad abt it bec it was for the good of humanity :( I WANT MORE KALATSUTSI!!!! OMG PLSPLSPLSPLS EXPAND ON HER RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN CRYSTAL AND PHILLIPINES

Crystal

OMG SHE IS SO NICE AND CARING. She literally gives like… a Deuce maybe! BUT NOT STUPID. Like she’s dedicated, and she does what she needs to do in order to have a better life for her and her friends! Kinda like Gon I think!

OMG LIKE SHE REALIZED SHE WAS A CHARACTER FROM A BOOK, BUT SHE DOESN’T BLAME THE AUTHOR BECAUSE OF IT. She is so empathetic! (Something most twst boys lack)

I wonder what happens when she turns angry, or someone hurts her friends or something. Like can she easily compose herself or is she more prone to explode under extreme pressure like that? And i mean when it’s like, the event that happened was deliberate and intentional (not like this because the Author didn’t know her characters were ‘real’ so to say). How would she react?

OMG I JUST WENT BACK AND SAW THAT HER AND PHILLIPINE ARE RIVALS?!? Light Blue and Dark Red right?!?! I’m pretty sure, correct me if I’m wrong, none of them really want to fight each other. Like Phillipine doesn’t want to fight her, and Crystal just wishes to end the blooshed from the generational war, so is someone or something forcing them to fight? Perhaps they were two people on different sides of the war, and they were forced to be rivals, even though they both ultimately want the same thing? OMG SO LIKE A PARALLEL? Like they both want to achieve the same goal, but through different means? I don’t know much about Phillipine’s character yet, BUT I AM SO INTRIGUED LIKE ACTUALLY THO PLSLSLSLSLSLSL I’M ACTING LIKE A VICTORIAN MAN SEEING ANKLES FOR THE FIRST TIME. Wait so how does each side of the war operate differently, like in terms of world building? BUT OMG I JUST REALIZED CRYSTAL IS DARK RED, THE COLOR OF BLOOD, BUT SHE DOESN’t WANT BLOODSHED. IS IT LIKE- She and Phillipine are two people on the wrong side of the war? This is totally speculation, but maybe Phillipine is more anchored to ‘end the war no matter the cost or casualities’ and Crystal is like ‘end the war without bloodshed’.

Also, are there any character flaws that affect her throughout the story? OH YEAH AND ✨backstory stuff✨ I WANNA KNOW ALL THE DEETS

I do love crystals character!!!! I cant wait to see lore about her!!! IM ACTUALLY SO CURIOUS FOR UR OCS OMGMGMG

Phillipine

LOL WE GOT THE AWKWARD MALE LEAD UP HERE!

I kinda included a lot for Phillipine in Crystals

PLSPSLPLS GIVE ME MORE PHILLIPINE BACKSTORY

THe deeper I’m diving into your characters the more I want to know omg

Kalatsutsi

MY SHAYLAAAAA MY SHAYLAA 😩😩😫😫😫😭😭😭😭😭

So Aqua hid behind her back for protection, that means they are either pretty close, or Kalatsutsi owes something to him that makes her subservient to him in a way. Either way, Kalatsutsi has to be PRETTY STRONG if an omnipresent overseer is hiding behind her for protection, so theres that

Obviously Kalatsutsi has some connection to Phillipine, and she also has a limited edition poster (this is either from the real world or from their world, ill come back to this). The oddity here (which is a good thing bc now I can theorize) Is that Kalatsutsi is from the Dark Red side with Crystal because they are sisters (unless they were separated at birth or just separated in general, then different story but same rule applies), for Kalatsutsi to meet Phillipine, it would have to be through a clash between the Light Blue forces, and the Dark Red forces. However, I feel like for her to develop a crush on him, she would have to get to know him and trust him a LOT (because since they live in a military setting, death is a major concern. Strength plays a large part because obviously you wouldnt want your spouse to die. Also trust issues because of so much death and trauma). She would have to develop a crush on him through prolonged contact in some way, maybe there is an arc featuring the two or three of them (Crystal), or maybe… and this is just a theory… Kalatsutsi has secret relations with the Light Blue side. Now I dont have more than that! BUT IM JUST SPECULATING LMAO

IDK I ALSO HAVE THE IMPRESSION THAT SHE IS THIS REALLY STRONG TOUGH AND REASONABLE WARRIOR like an actually girlboss

Next up, going back to Kalatsutsi and Aqua, I wonder if Kalatsutsi had some encounter with him and thats how Aqua likes Kalatsutsi so much. It goes back to what I said before, something had to have happened between them that made Aqua gain respect for her, and bound her to him by some form of events (maybe bound is the wrong word, they could also be rivals aswell, maybe its the “girl pushes guy away because she doesn’t like him but secretly respects him and guy is pretty annoying and keeps on bothering her because he is either infatuated with her or has interior motives” trope.) but yeah, something HAD to have happened between them… ESPECIALLY SINCE THEY ARE TWO STRONG FORCES, OMG YESSS THEY ARE SO COOL.

Also, from the limited edition poster thing, does that mean she is famous in the world? Because if she is I’d assume its infamy, because she’s probably a MONSTER on the battlefield.

She is so calm and composed… I WANNA SEE HER CRUMBLE 😈😈 OMG I DO WANNA KNOW WHAT SHE FEELS INTERNALLY THO BC SHES OBVIOUSLY TRAUMATIZED BY WHAT SHE HAS SEEN AND STUFF.

AND NOW PHILLIPINE GOT SWIPED BY CRYSTAL OH MY SHAYLA 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Kalatsutsi is officially my favorite character in all of media PLEASE DPLEAS PLEASE EPLEASE PLEASE GIVE ME MOREEE

IM SO EXCUTED FOR YOUR NEXT WORKS ON THESE PEOPLE I SWEAR LIKE PLELSLSLAL I WANT MORE OF THEM SO BAD

IM SO INTERESTED IN THE WORLD AND MULTIVERSES AND OMG IK YOUR GOING TO DO IT IN THE SMARTEST MOST AMAZING WAY (no pressure) IM JUST

Wow

AND YES I DO WATCH NINJAGO (my boy COLE IS THE TOP G 😍😍😍😍)

AND YEAH ITS LIKE 1:40 AM SO IMA GO TO SLEEP (nah imma be reading anna karenina, so yeah PLS TEXT ME POOKIE BEAR)

I LOVE UR WORK MAN NEVER STOP ❤️❤️❤️❤️

GNNGNGNGNGNGNGN‼️‼️‼️‼️