#And i pointed out how roo will turn around and start shooting at one of us after we win a game

[mrfoox]

I love Fabian so much.... 🥺

[fr3sh-tragedies]

Mistletoe

[Raya and the Last Dragon] Raya x Female Reader

Summary: When you fail to take notice of the not-so-subtle hints Raya keeps dropping to get you under the mistletoe, she ultimately gives up on the hinting and pulls you in.

Word Count: 1.54k Content + Warnings: Oblivious reader, modern College AU, Raya pining for Reader Category: Slight Angst + Fluff || One-shot

[A/N]: Taking a short break from writing for Val. I wish I had seen this movie sooner. Raya immediately stole my heart.

Enjoy!

“Namaari, look at Raya,” Sisu whispered, jabbing Namaari in the arm with her elbow. Glancing down at her and then to where she was pointing, Namaari bit back a small laugh upon seeing her friend leaning against the wall uncomfortably, failing almost miserably at flirting with the girl she was talking to. “God, she’s hopeless.” Sisu snickered, handing Namaari one of the drinks she had swiped off the table when they showed up to the small house party. Slowly, the taller woman sipped at the drink in the cup, silently wondering to herself how long it would take Raya to get over her nerves.

Sisu leaned over to whisper again. “Do you think we should help her somehow?” A shake of the head was her response. “No, she needs to do this on her own.”

For over two hours, Raya had been trying to guide you under the mistletoe that the host had hung in the doorway of one of the halls. Whether you were deliberately avoiding it or were just genuinely oblivious to the small decoration hanging overhead, she didn’t know. All she did know was that she was starting to get a little frustrated.

She had propped herself against the wall closest to you, smirking with her best look of feigned confidence as she tried her best to flirt with you. It seemed you weren’t entirely getting anything she was hinting at, unfortunately.

All she wanted was to let you know she loved you, and if she was being honest with herself, she had for a while. After being invited to the party and learning that you were going to be there too, she promised herself she would take it as her opportunity to finally confess. It had been difficult the past few months to be around you, especially considering that you were one of her roommates, and she was tired of constantly feeling helplessly in love with you. She wanted so desperately to get rid of that feeling and finally know if you felt the same way.

And there she was, trying to shoot her shot with you, and you just didn’t seem to notice any of it. She had finally managed to get you alone after talking with your friends for the majority of your time there, but your obliviousness made it seem like she was so small – like she wasn’t even there. You weren’t ignoring her. In fact, you were actively talking with her. It just felt like you were ignoring the flirty comments and remarks she continued to send your way.

She had seen a few other couples end up under the mistletoe – which was only a foot away from where you stood – and it upset her. They seemed to wander underneath it eagerly. Was she not being convincing enough? Did you not like her the same way? She was sure you did.

After several minutes of nonstop flirting, she was tempted to just blurt out what she was wanting. ‘Wanna join me under the mistletoe?’ It seemed so easy in her head. Why was this so hard?

For a moment, she could feel eyes on her. When she turned, she found Namaari and Sisu staring back at her with smiles, laughing quietly at her expense before motioning for her to keep trying. She rolled her eyes at them before her gaze fell down to the cup in her hands. A small sigh unwillingly slipped past her lips, catching your attention.

“You okay?” You asked, and, oh, Raya nearly melted on the spot at how softly you looked over at her. The corners of her lips perked up into a small smile at your concern. She nodded, not wanting you to worry over her. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

A moment passed where nothing more was said between the two of you. Eventually, Raya’s eyes wandered across the room. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip and she quickly averted her gaze at the sight of yet another couple necking. Slowly, her eyes trailed up your body, stopping at your face, and she couldn’t resist the desire that bubbled up in her, wanting to know how your lips would feel against hers. She didn’t even know if you’d want to kiss her.

She wanted to think that you’d return her affections happily, that you’d enjoy kissing her as much as she enjoyed kissing you, that you’d pull her closer and only pull away once you were both breathless. The more rational part of her mind, however, reminded her that the opposite could become reality. Maybe you’d push her away, telling her you didn’t feel the same. What if you mocked her or thought she was gross for liking you? She knew you were into girls, but were you into her?

A hand landing on her shoulder and giving it a squeeze pulled her from her harmful thoughts. Blinking, she looked to the side to find you still studying her. Had you even looked away? “Are you sure you’re alright? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.”

With a small groan, she ran a hand down her face and nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine.” You weren’t buying it, she knew that, but you still turned with a nod of your own and let your hand fall back down to your side. She had to stop herself from snatching your hand and keeping it against her skin. “Okay,” you murmured with a frown. Her heart throbbed. Ever since she met you, she felt physical discomfort anytime she’d upset you, even if it wasn’t over anything serious. She couldn’t bring herself to say no to you. She wanted you to be happy with her, not the opposite.

Huffing out a sigh, she turned to face you fully. “I just don’t get why you’ve been ignoring my hints and advances instead of at least addressing them.” It caught her off guard to see you stare back at her with pure bewilderment. Immediately, she regretted the tone she had used.

“Hints and advances?” You echoed, brows pinched together as you tilted your head in confusion. “What do you mean?” All she could do was stare at you for a moment, just as puzzled as you were. Had you genuinely not understood her motives? She thought she was being obvious. Namaari and Sisu clearly thought so too. “Well, yeah,” she started, internally cursing at the way her voice broke. “I’ve been flirting with you all night. I thought you were just ignoring it.”

You chuckled uneasily, shaking your head and glancing away for a moment. “No, I just didn’t know that’s what you were doing.”

She let herself chuckle, ducking her head back down and covering it with one of her hands. “Oh, wow. Okay.” Almost immediately, all of her anxiety seemed to fade away, and she quickly turned to grab your hand after placing both your and her cups down on a nearby table. Before you could question what she was doing, she pulled you over under the mistletoe like she had been wanting to all night. She pointed up at it with a grin, her hands dropping to rest against your hips and pull you closer to her. “Then I’ll be upfront here. Since we’re under the mistletoe now, is it alright if I kiss you?”

To her surprise, your face went red and you giggled – a sound she had never heard from you before. You tried for a minute to give her a verbal response, though you ultimately gave up and offered her a nod instead. Now elated, her smile widened and she let one of her hands lift to cup your face. Slowly, in order to properly gauge your reaction, she tilted her head and leaned forward. As a way to get back at you for being so blind to her advances, she paused when your lips grazed hers.

She chuckled when you pouted with your eyes still closed. After waiting, she dove into the kiss upon seeing you open your eyes again, likely ready to ask her what she was doing. Every dream of having you close to her like this over the past few months finally felt fulfilled. Your lips fit just as perfectly against hers as she had hoped, and it took everything in her not to devour until your lips were blue.

She would do that some other time, she promised herself, when the two of you were somewhere far more private. For now, she was just grateful that she had you in her arms.

Once she finally pulled away, she found you staring up at her in surprise, your pupils blown. Her heart fluttered at the sight of what just one of her kisses had done to you. She smirked to herself. She couldn’t wait to get more of those reactions out of you once you both made it home. Briefly, she glanced over at Sisu and Namaari, finding them not even paying attention. Her grin widened when she turned her focus back to you.

She’d have to ask them to leave the dorm for a bit.

Possibly for the entire night.

She hummed, watching you lean toward her again for another kiss. Happily, she closed the gap.

There was only one way to find out.

[horseshoegirl]

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 23 - Sleep Deprivation

📜So... I really don't know what to say right now. As a writer, we are supposed to be able to form words into sentences that create worlds, characters... emotions... but I cannot bring myself to form the correct words to describe how grateful I am that you guys took a chance on me, writing this piece of fan fiction after an 8-year hiatus, wondering if I still had it, if I was enough. DTDT is the first piece of Fan Fiction I've ever finished, the first story I have ever finished. And along with you all, I've cried, I've laughed, I've wept, I've smiled over Sadie being herself and Liz standing up for what is right. Jake being who he is, and Bradley... well, he speaks for himself 😅 It's one thing to say you write fan fiction, but it's another thing to say that you want to write fan fiction for people who make you feel supported in what you do. This is my THANK YOU to you all. For your kind words and lengthy reblogs, for the comments, likes and support. DTDT only exists because of you guys. And I love every one of you from the bottom of my heart.

So... with a bittersweet mention, here is the final Part of DTDT. Part 23, Sleep Deprivation 😭

❗18+. Strong Language, Pure fluff, Original Female Character, Original Child Character, PDA, Just in case letters, and maybe a few tears...

#6K words

Part 22 | Masterlist

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday, Dear Sadie Bug, Happy Birthday to you!" 

Cheers erupted throughout the Hard Deck as Sadie smiled at her family, all gathered and singing to her around the piano. Uncle Roo was playing, lightly swaying into her side, making her laugh. Alyssa had her hand on Uncle Roo's shoulder, and the rest of the Dagger Squad was scattered about, singing along with the crowd.

She turned eleven today, and while she loved the fact everyone was here, with her celebrating, she found that the best gift she ever could have received was in how she saw you smile, here and now, with Uncle Jake holding you close. You were smiling like you used to, long before you had left to live in this small town she now called home.

Uncle Jake had lived up to his promise. He reminded you that you were worth it. He made you happy. And he tried.

She didn't need anything else.

"Sadie," a hesitant voice called from behind her. She spun on the piano stool, only to find a single yellow tulip attached to a slightly shaky hand in front of her face.

"Happy Birthday." Will smiled crookedly.

You felt Jake tense up against your back, his chest puffing out and his grip on your waist near the point of pain. Bradley even twisted at the sound of Will's voice, staring him down above the rim of his father's Raybans.

While Bradley might be dating his mother and, albeit, starting to bond with Will, he knew a wooing attempt when he saw one. Sadie's heart was another matter entirely.

You and Alyssa giggled softly at Sadie, blushing as she took the flower and at Jake and Bradley for shooting each other, what you could only describe as an "overprotective dad vibe."

Sadie delicately grasped the tulip, her eyes lighting up as she glanced at Will. "Thank you," she managed to say, her voice a mix of appreciation and surprise.

A silent exchange passed between Jake and Bradley. It was as if they had reached an unspoken agreement, a united front. Will had no idea what he was up against, two grown men ready to go to comedic if not slightly absurd, lengths to stir hardship to any boy that dared to approach Sadie.

Will shot his mom a look, who nodded at him encouragingly.

"Do you wanna.. go play on that old arcade machine in the back?"

Sadie went to open her mouth, an eager yes about to escape her lips, until she thought she heard a growl coming from behind her. She turned back, seeing her Uncle Roo first, his jaw tight. Her Uncle Jake wasn't that far off either, his nose flaring with each breath he took, glaring down at her best friend.

She shot you a pleading, panicked look, hoping you could see the desperation on her face.

Jake and Bradley opened their mouths, Jake's voice overtaking Bradley's as he went, "Over my dead..."

But they were cut short. You had taken your arm resting on top of the piano and jabbed Jake in the gut with your elbow. Alyssa had caught on, grabbing a lock of Bradley's hair at the back of his head and tugging once hard.

"Of course, sweetheart," you replied, jutting your head urgently towards the back. You silently mouthed, 'Go. Now!' and Sadie giggled, scrambling off the bench with her flower in hand, running off with Will towards the back.

Alyssa let go of Bradley's hair, prompting him to shout out, "What the Hell!" as you turned to face Jake.

"Relax, both of you. She's eleven!"

Jake pouted, clutching his stomach. "That little shit stole my idea. Only I get to give her a yellow tulip... it's a tradition at this point, and here he comes, swooping in with his tulip-like he's Mr. Original. It's my thing with her."

"Hey, that's my son you're talking about, Seresin!"

You tapped the back of his head with your hand, biting your lip to stiff your giggle. "He's a kid, Jake! It's just a tulip, not a wedding ring."

That was definitely the wrong thing to say.

Jake gulped hard, and you swore you saw a flash of pure terror cross his face. "No, Nope. No. I just got to call her mine. I need to do the things with her before she properly grows up," he sputtered. "A wedding ring? Liz, she's eleven! Don't put that mental image in my head. She's our girl, don't do that!"

Jake wasn't kidding about Sadie being his, not really.

Once the two of you brought Sadie home from Camp, you sat her down and asked if she was okay with Jake moving in. Of course, Sadie was ecstatic, nodding her head and asking 'when' or 'how soon', which prompted the two of you to start to plan things seriously. But it also posed the question Ridley had to consider the second Sadie was born.

Who would look after her if something happened to you?

It was nothing formal. You merely had to change your Will, stipulating that Jake would be the one to get her should anything happen. But Jake treated it as if it actually was, boasting to anyone he could about his niece. The words practically rolled off his tongue with ease and that sheer cocky confidence he was known for. It also didn't surprise you when you found information packets lumped on top of his computer in your office about the process for formally adopting.

It just further proved to you how much Jake wanted to be in your life.

"She has a good head on her shoulders, Jake. And she adores you," you remarked, looping your arms around his neck. Jake's chest rumbled against yours as he huffed. "Besides, I think you set a good example. She clearly expects high standards."

He let out a grumble, and you could only laugh and stand on your toes to plant a kiss on his lips. "You'll always be the reigning champion in this house, Hangman."

"I agree with Jake, Liz. We need to lock her in a tower."

You dropped your head to Jake's chest before you turned to roll your eyes at Bradley. You caught sight of Sadie in the distance, and she met your eyes and gave you a thumbs up, the tulip still in her other hand. The message was clear; she was okay, she was happy. That's all that mattered to you.

"Want another?" you asked the two of them, gathering their empty bottles. The both of them nodded, and you shook your head as Jake stepped into the space you vacated, leaning over the side of the piano to scheme with Bradley. You rolled your eyes at Alyssa, who shooed you on your way.

You smiled at Penny as you approached the bar, holding the empty bottles out to the air, signalling for two more. It's not as if you couldn't have gotten them and added them to a tab yourself, but Penny was adamant you didn't work tonight.

Your phone rang out and vibrated within the pocket of your dress. You pulled it out, wondering who could be calling you. Everyone who possibly could be was here at the Hard Deck, celebrating Sadie's Birthday.

Then, you saw the caller ID.

The bottles slipped from your fingers, shattering upon impact with the floor.

Not that you noticed, but everyone's heads lifted and turned towards the sound of breaking glass. Jake was the first to reach you, mindful of the broken glass at your feet. Then Bradley, Alyssa, Nat, and all of the Daggers swarmed you, knowing your history with phone calls and wondering what else might be thrown at you this time.

You pressed accept on the tiny device, bringing your phone to your ear, eyes wide as you stared at Jake, panting hard.

"Hello?"

Penny had yelled for someone to turn off the jukebox and for everyone to shut up. It was dead quiet, but for the sound of your voice and the tiny speaker of your phone, the entire bar invested in the outcome of your call.

Jake wanted to reach for you, but he didn't know if he should, wanting to leave you to have your space to deal with whoever was on the other end of that call. You turned your back to face him as the other person started speaking, you pressing a knuckle to your lips and biting down hard.

Everyone watched you nod and heard the question, 'What does that mean for us?' cross your lips.

"What..?" Rooster started to say, breaking the silence. Jake shot his arm out, shaking his head.

But the second he saw you grip your forearm and your skin turning red, he stepped forward, uncaring as glass crunched under his boots, to stop you from hurting yourself.

"Yes, thank you. I'll call if I have any more questions."

You squeezed Jake's hand once he gripped yours, and you hung up the phone. Turning to face the group, you looked at them with a shocked look on your face.

"Liz? Darlin?" Jake asked. "What happened?"

You swallowed, hardly believing what you heard yourself. "Uh...Tyler got thirty years to life."

A few collective gasps went around the room.

"They got him on attempted kidnapping, two counts of physical assault, and.. and murder."

Jake reached for your face and cradled your cheek. "Murder?"

You nodded, silent tears falling from the corners of your eyes. "There was a traffic camera... that fucking white car... the spoiler on the back... they caught him chasing her..."

Your words were fractured sentences as Jake combed your hair back from your face, you trying to sort between your thoughts and the information you had been given.

"That was the district attorney. I didn't even know he had a court date," you sniffed. "His whole family is going down for this... and there was a jury too. Apparently, they didn't take kindly to him attacking an active and decorated Naval Aviator."

Jake huffed, a soft smile on his face, but it didn't reach his eyes. You could tell he was stuck somewhere between relief and discomfort.

You raised your eyebrow at him. "Are you okay?"

He was. Tyler was truly well and out of your lives, and that was a good thing. But somewhere deep down, Jake felt as if the universe had twisted things to make him the hero in a story where the true victims were you and Sadie. It didn't sit right with him.

"I don't wanna sound like an ass, but my career shouldn't have had any bearing that decision."

You shook your head, touched by his reaction. "It doesn't matter, Jake. Not to me. He's going away."

You pressed your forehead to his, a happy sob escaping your lips at the realization suddenly washing over you. "He won't be able to get near Sadie ever again. And Ridley finally has justice for what happened to her. We're free."

Jake pressed a quick kiss to your lips, smiling as you gasped another deep breath. The second he pulled away, letting his nose rest beside yours, you chanted out happily, "We're free!"

Cheers went up around the Hard Deck, and Penny rang the bell, singling a free round on the house. The rest of the Daggers sighed with relief, lamenting about needing a drink, while Rooster whooped, running back to the piano and sliding along the bench as he ran his fingers across the keys.

Yet Jake and you stayed where you were, staring at each other with echoing smiles.

A well-known piano riff sounded off the walls of the Hard Deck, and Jake and you fought the urge to roll your eyes, using the distraction to slip out onto the hard deck patio and over to a grassy part of the beach. You could hear Rooster's playing at a distance, but it was enough not to be a bother.

You went to step forward, but Jake pulled you back by the grip he had on your hand, spinning you under his arm. You giggled, your head tilted back as you went, only to find Jake's hand resting flat on the curve of your back, urging the two of you to slow dance.

Bright orange rays hit the side of Jake's face. Hues of gold, pinks, and soft yellows, all sculpting his jawline, shining tiny flecks into his eyes, and casting a glow into his hair. They highlighted the small, affectionate small that was tugging at the corner of his lips. Jake's Mona Lisa smile was one thing, but this was one that was only reserved for you.

"Is this going to be our thing?" you asked him. "Watching sunsets?"

Jake smirked. "We could do a sunrise to switch things up?"

You let Jake spin you under his arm again, a smile on your face. He pulled you back to him, hooking both his arms around your waist while yours wrapped themselves around his neck.

"No," you smiled, swaying with him across the grass, thinking of when you went to visit Ridley. "I think sunsets are reserved just for us."

---

Despite having a party at the Hard Deck, Sadie's birthday did happen to fall on a Saturday night. So it was only natural one of her birthday wishes ended up being that she wanted these fun-filled nights to continue.

Who were you to deny her that request?

It was just the team that came back to your place afterwards for cake, your backyard lit up by your string lights and the glowing flames of your bonfire pit, music blasting from your speakers. Sadie had just finished opening her gifts from the squad, and Jake and you had saved yours for last.

Jake reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, flicking the stand back on the case and propping it on the edge of the pit. It let out a shrill tone, and Sadie squinted her eyes at the tiny screen, wondering who Jake had decided to call, now of all times.

Suddenly, a woman who looked just like him appeared on the screen.

"Is this Sadie?!"

Sadie squinted her eyes. "Yes...."

Janet's face beamed with excitement. "It's so nice to meet you finally, my brother can't shut up about you. Happy Birthday, Sweetie."

"That's nice of him," she answered, though you knew what she was doing, challenging Janet to earn her affection.

"Which one are you?" Sadie pressed. Jake bit his tongue, fighting a grin.

Janet didn't hesitate when she replied, "Not the twit and not the one that needs a pitchfork shoved up his as... butt."

Sadie giggled, and Janet shamefully called out, "Sorry, Liz."

You shrugged. "She's heard worse."

You met Nat's eyes on the other side of the fire, noticing how she was watching Sadie contently.

"Uhhh," Janet remarked. "You actually kind of look like my brother."

"Do you have any embarrassing stories about him?" Sadie's high-pitched voice made you turn back toward the camera.

Janet glanced over towards you within the frame. "She really is your niece, isn't she?"

You laughed, and Sadie broke into a full smile, her guard dropping a bit. "I like her," she declared, glancing at you and Jake for your reactions.

"If you two are done squaring off.." Jake said, rolling his eyes. "Janet had a hand in your gift and wanted to watch you open it."

He placed a box in Sadie's lap, holding the edge so it wouldn't fall as she tore into it.

"Go on, open it," Jake encouraged with a little bounce in his voice.

Sadie tore at the wrapping paper, lifted the lid and gasped. "Cowboy boots!" she squealed, pulling them out to admire the intricately stitched patterns and the shine of the leather.

"Thought you might need a pair if you're gonna be an honorary Texan," Jake said, grinning from ear to ear.

Sadie lunged forward, giving him a huge hug. "Thank you, Uncle Jake!"

He laughed, hugging her back. "Thank Janet, too. She picked them out."

Sadie squealed out her thanks as she kicked her slip-ons off, quickly trying them on. Except she shrieked when her foot met something within the sole, and she pulled the boot off only to reach down and grasp a few hard pieces of paper.

With a dramatic flair, she pulled out three plane tickets, holding them up for everyone to see. Her eyes widened, and a squeal escaped her lips as she put two and two together. "Are these... are we going to Texas?!"

You took one from her hand, reading the front. "Jake, you didn't."

He shrugged. "She needs to see where her family is from."

Bradley audibly gagged from his spot on one of the chairs, and you barked out, "Can it, Bradley! Don't ruin the moment!"

"We'll see you soon, Aunt Janet," Sadie said, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet with newfound enthusiasm.

"Counting the days, sweetheart," Janet said, waving goodbye as Jake ended the call.

As Sadie tried on her new boots, you reached down beside the bench to grab what would be Sadie's final gift of the night. You carefully slid it into her lap, placing a hand on her back.

"This one is from me... and your mom."

Sadie peered up at you with wide eyes before tearing into the box, practically tossing the lid off in haste. Her tiny hands tore at the tissue paper, and Jake was laughing at her eagerness as the tuffs flew up into the air.

She gasped when caught sight of the dark blue denim folded neatly into the box.

You found that Jean Jacket amongst Ridley's things in the storage unit, finding the courage to go through it finally and see what you could salvage or donate as you undertook the task of redoing Sadie's room. You knew as soon as you saw it that Ridley had been intending to give it to her as a gift, a twin butterfly and ladybug patches having been already sown into the material on the back.

That's what Sadie was seeing now, the jacket folded in such a way in the box only those two patches would be on display.

She wiggled her cowboy boot-clad feet back and forth in excitement as she grabbed the shoulders of the jacket, lifting it up out of the box to hold it in front of her. Jake grabbed the box and added it to the rest of the discarded wrapping paper.

Except as she held it up to inspect the back, the front was on display to everyone else sitting around the fire pit. Collective gasps and shouts of "What?!" sounded off, and you had to bite back your laugh.

"What the hell are those?!"

Sadie lowered the Jacket, peering over to see her Uncle Bob, ready to rat him out for swearing, when she saw his mouth was open like a fish. Twisting her brow, she flipped it over, a high-pitched gasp escaping her lips as she saw the two patches on the front.

The Dagger patch had been the most damaged one, but it was all too easy to grab the one plastered to one of the walls of the Hard Deck for reference. When Mr Murray asked why you wanted to use the busted one and not the one still intact, you had simply replied with, 'This one is special.'

It sat just next to the left breast pocket, perhaps standing out the most. But you, Sadie, and Jake hadn't been staring at that one. There was a second patch adorning the right breast pocket - a patch with a slight modification.

Sadie ran her finger across the gold-threaded wings before tracing the tiny words wedged in tight on either side below it. The tiny words that stood on top of the reason why this particular patch was now so special to her.

Proud niece of Hangman

To your surprise, it wasn't Bradley, but Nat, who yelled out first, "Hey! What about the rest of us?!"

Her shout set off a chain reaction around the group.

"It's not fair he gets to be on there first!"

"Why didn't you ask us too, Liz!?"

"There's a Dagger patch on there. All of us should be on there!"

But you weren't paying attention to any of them. You were looking at Jake, who had reached out to trace the patch as the jacket rested in Sadie's lap.

She looked up at him, hugging his side. "It's true, you know," she said a matter of factly. "I am proud of you, Uncle Jake. I always will be."

Jake snaked an arm around her back, hugging her and pressing a kiss to the top of her head, eyeing you with a smile. You would never stop surprising him—the both of you.

The Daggers were still arguing amongst themselves when Sadie scowled at them.

"Hey, guys!" She shouted, giving everyone pointed looks across your deck. "It's my birthday, shove it! He counts! And If I say he goes first, he goes on first, okay!?"

Everyone else, save Bradley, backed off.

"Guess I'm just chopped liver then."

Sadie narrowed her eyes, pushing herself to stand.

"You listen here, you big fat glorified chicken..."

You couldn't contain your laughter as Sadie marched over to Bradley, her finger pointed out in front of her as she started laying into him. Rooster looked scared, and you shook your head, wondering why he didn't realize Sadie would jump to Jake's defence the second she could.

Jake startled you as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

"Meet you in the kitchen?" he spoke into your ear, squeezing his hand once before walking off, collecting the tray of dirty dishes on the table.

You stayed with Sadie for a few more minutes, making sure the rest of your crazy family didn't kill each other over who could have one of their patches on Sadie's jacket next. Though you'd never let on that Mav secretly slipped you one of his as he joined Sadie when she came back to sit with you.

As you sat there, watching the people who had come to mean so much to you, you felt an odd sense of what you could only describe as 'home' wash over you. It wasn't tied to a place but to your extraordinary found family. Because as much as they were there for Sadie, they were there for you too.

It was the peculiar kind of warmth they brought you, whether Nat was trying to get you to come out of your shell, Penny for acting like the defacto mother you didn't quite have most of your life, or Bob willing to be himself around you. It was in the way Mav cared for both you and Sadie as he did for each of his Daggers and how Coyote was always there when you needed him. How Payback and Fanboy made sure everyone was having fun, and how Rooster was the troubled brother you never had, a little broken, a little worse for wear, but genuinely kind-hearted.

Every family a bad egg after all, albeit bad wasn't the word you'd use to describe him at all.

They helped to fill the gaps left by your grief and sorrow, and you vowed to hold each of them a little closer. Because your life had been a pile of good things and also bad. The good didn't always soften the bad things you had to go through, but the bad never spoiled the good or made them unimportant in your life. Your life was messy and unpredictable but beautiful with its imperfections.

And you, somewhere along the way, were living with people who had chosen to stand by you in your darkest moments.

And Jake. Your Jake.

You turned to Sadie. "Think you can manage these guys while I help Uncle Jake?"

She smiled up at you, nodding, before looping her arm through Mav's, resting her head against his shoulder, tenderly glancing between some of her favourite people in the world.

Walking away, you paused at the back door, leaning up against the glass with your arms crossed as you found Jake humming, swaying along to the song currently playing outside as he worked, hands covered in suds as he diligently cleaned the dishes.

You faked a cough, startling Jake as the sponge slipped from his hands back into the dishwater.

"Anything I can help you with, Lieutenant?" you tease, playfulness in your tone and a grin gracing your lips. Jake narrowed his eyes at you, a cocky smirk on his face, then jerked his head to the empty space beside him.

"I wash. You dry?"

You walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, feeling him pause to place his hands over yours. You closed your eyes, pressing your cheek to his back and letting out a deep sigh.

A wave of profound gratitude washed over you. This man had chosen to love not just you but Sadie as well. He had stepped into your lives, filling spaces you hadn't even known were empty at a time when you weren't at your best. When you were fighting with yourself tooth and nail not to start a relationship, when you were missing your sister so much, the thought of her not being here was too great to bear. When you were scared to let anyone that close to you without Sadie's approval and yet, Jake somehow found his way.

You loved him. And there would never be a day in your life when you would let him forget it.

The two of you did the dishes, the odd comment or two passing by. The both of you knew a few of them would be sleeping over, you having already made up the pull-out in your office and Jake having gathered the spare pillows and blankets from your hall closet.

The two of you might have bumped your hips, teased one another, and shared a kiss or two. You might have blown bubbles in Jake's face, and he might have tapped you with the dish rag.

But when everything was said and done, and Jake was working to drain the sink, your eyes tracked to the top of the refrigerator, where that white envelope called out to you. It was wedged between your cookbooks, and you saw nothing else as you pushed yourself off the counter with both hands.

Reaching up, you worked the thick piece of paper out from between the books, only to hold it, staring at the front and absentmindedly tracing the writing on the surface.

Without looking up, you spun towards Jake, feeling a complex mix of emotions. Love, apprehension, vulnerability. But underpinning it all was an entwinement of a slight sadness, but more so serenity and acceptance.

"Hey, Jake," you said softly. Jake turned around, the smile on his face fading when he noticed you were holding a white envelope in your hands. A gentle smile was on your face as you looked down, closing your eyes once before lifting your head.

"I have something for you."

Taking the few steps needed to close the distance between you and Jake, you held out the envelope.

"Another letter?" he teased, slinging the dishtowel onto his shoulder and wiping his hands dry before taking it from your hands. He flipped it over, eyes searching the front until he spotted the fancy handwriting.

Jake's eyes shot to yours, utterly shocked. Yet, you didn't do anything except squeeze his wrist once and lean up to kiss his cheek. "I'll be out in the back with the others if you need me."

Jake remained frozen on your kitchen floor, watching as you walked out the back door. Sadie immediately ran to you, and you held out your arms, a cheerful laugh racking your chest as she hugged you tight.

Jake smiled at the sight, his girls laughing with one another as the music changed, and you wrapped your arms around her, waddling back and forth as the two of you started to dance. But then he felt the weight of the envelope you had given him, and he was drawn back down at the handwriting gracing the surface.

To him

Despite not having seen her handwriting, he knew who this letter was from. You had told him you had opened the shoebox about the letters Ridley had left for various points in either your or Sadie's lives.

He'd never expected Ridley to have written one for him... or at least, the idea of him.

Sitting at your kitchen table, he carefully opened the envelope, tilting it upside down to pull at the folded-up pieces of paper nestled inside. But as he pulled, several polaroids fell onto the table and a few to the floor.

Placing the letter off to the side, he reached down to scoop up the ones that had fallen, drawing in a sharp breath as he flipped one over.

The resemblance between Ridley and you was uncanny.

He didn't know what to expect, seeing a photo of her for the first time. Her eyes twinkled the same way yours did when you were happy, and the two of you shared the same dimples when you smiled. She had the same nose as you, the same hair colour, and the same face shape.

But there were also differences.

He smiled when he noticed the line of freckles spreading across her cheeks, the same type he knew scattered across your back. She had a scar running through her eyebrow and another matching just above her forehead.

But above all else, her smile echoed Sadie's, wide and happy.

He picked up another one, seeing you, as a teenager, laying in a hammock with a notebook and a feathered pen. Ridley had written along the white frame, an author in the making.

There was also one of Sadie as a baby, wrapped in a pink blanket, blue eyes wide as she stared up at the camera. And another of you holding her to your chest in a rocking chair, the two of you asleep. There were a few of you as a kid, another of you holding up a key with your tongue sticking out, and another at your graduation, Sadie on your shoulders stealing your cap.

Jake realized almost all the ones of you were strategically taken by your sister without your knowledge. It's so reminiscent of when Sadie sent that first Polaroid, the same circumstances - like mother like daughter.

Jake laid each out in front of him, lining them up to what he assumed was their chronological order, only to stare down at the story Ridley had left him. He felt his throat tighten as he looked at all of them. Even in the face of something as heartwarming as leaving him photographs of the three of you, the lingering weight of Ridley's absence was inescapable, and it hit him square in the chest.

Though he never had met her, the space she had left was undeniable. Seeing her now, he realized maybe he did know her. In Sadie's smile, in your will to take care of others, in the music she had shared with you and in both of your abilities to put somebody in their place rightly. It caused Jake to smile down at the only photo of her, resting on the table.

"It's nice to meet you, Ridley."

So finally, after the last photo, after the last word had been seen, and the last memory had been touched, Jake unfolded those pieces of paper and began to read.

To the person my sister loves,

Well, shit, she finally did it. My little sister finally found her, Mr. Darcy.

Sorry. As you probably have already discovered, the Beck sisters have a little Pride & Prejudice obsession. Totally my fault for naming my sister after a character in a book I fell in love with in school, but I took my chance when I saw it. But if you have the tendency sometimes to be a pompous asshole with an ego problem, then hey, at least she wasn't that far off the mark.

I'm sorry I'm not there to meet you. Whatever circumstances have prevented me from doing so. I'm sorry I can't have you over to a family dinner, ask about your life, and get to know you. For you to win me over, or for us to bat heads.

Just kidding... I'm more bummed about not being able to give you a shovel talk in person. But I know my daughter, and something is telling me Sadie would have already beaten me to it long before I had an actual chance. She has a thing about Lady Bugs, so run if you see her with an empty water bottle and she... Well, if you don't already know now, chances are you will eventually.

One way or another.

So I think this is my only chance to do it, sad as that is. Sad for you - you probably thought you were getting off scot-free. Nope, sir, I'm still going to kick your ass from my grave. So you better heed the wishes of a dead woman.

Now, she wouldn't have given you this letter if she didn't truly love you... if she didn't want to spend the rest of her life with you. She also must have made you promise to put Sadie first, and the fact you're holding this letter means you have. By her giving this to you, it means you are entirely worthy of her love.

(I don't write this as a means to scare you or warn you about what you're getting into. Cause no takebacks, sir, it's a done fucking deal now. I will so totally haunt your ass if otherwise. Sadie gets her wrath from me.)

There is so much more I want to tell you than I can fit into the pages of this letter. There will always be more, more things left unsaid, more things I never told them, or in what I'm telling you - God, the pressure to write something for someone you may never meet is hard…I hope you have a sense of humour cause I really don't stop rambling.

So, I guess I'll stick with three. Three things I want you to know…

One: Music does not solve all your problems.

Liz might try to tell you otherwise, that music can heal, and while I won't entirely disagree, you need to know the reason why. When we were kids, I'd play music to drown out the arguments, the slamming doors, the not-so-quiet sobs. The ability to guess a tune in just a few notes? That came from needing to know which song would best mask the sounds we didn't want to hear. The playlist wasn't just music; it was emotional armour. So when you listen to music with her, know that there's more beneath the surface. Beneath that lighthearted game is a history that's no game at all. When the playlist ends, and the distractions fade away, be the man who's there for her, not one that hides away when things get rough.

Two: A memory is no longer beautiful just because it fades.

People always used to ask me why I chose a Polaroid over a digital camera. With a Polaroid, each shot counts. You have a limited number of exposures, and each film cartridge is precious. There's no delete button, no do-over, just like in life. And when that photo develops in front of you, you have to wait for it to mean something. Once it does, it's permanent. You can hold it, you can touch it, you can pin it on a wall. But polaroids also fade.

Memories fade. But their value isn't in how long they last but in the ones you choose to capture in the first place. My sister and my daughter have been through a lot, so when you're building this life with them, be mindful of the moments you're capturing. Make those moments count. Make them worthy of being looked back on so there is no room for anyone to doubt the three of you didn't live a life that was not full of love.

Three: Grief is constant, unchanging, and complex - it is the most certain thing, next to death, we are guaranteed.

I have a very, very sneaky suspicion you are a pilot in the navy - hell, she works as a bartender in a navy bar; it was bound to happen with one of you lot (You just better not be the one Penny had called her about, rumoured to be sleeping with all the female bartenders... if you are... aha, good luck sir.. you're so in trouble - That's what Liz gets from me) so you know exactly what I mean. It's ingrained into your soul that each time you go up there, you might not come back down.

Liz struggles with grief and the knowledge that life is precious and fleeting. Don't add to it. Be the person who acknowledges it, who understands it, and chooses every day to make the time you have with them count. Life is fleeting; It can be gone in an instant. It's nothing we should ever take for granted, so please, please, from this dead woman pleading to the man my sister loves, please never take your life with her, with Sadie, as such.

They're both yours now, god help you. Liz, my dear sister, who cares too much. Sadie, my ladybug, who is too honest and sassy for a kid.

I've always put the two of them before myself. Liz has probably told you our story, so I won't rehash the nasty details in what's supposed to be a touching letter - I'm brutally honest, so when I say truly believe it was my sole purpose to be on this earth to 1) take care of my sister and 2) to create what happens to be, next to Liz, one of the most precious things in my life, I fucking mean it.

That being said, we need to make a slight amendment to the Sadie promise. Between the two of us, we need to add Liz to it too.

Lizzie needs to be reminded, given a list of all the reasons she's still here breathing, that she is doing right by what I want for the two of them. Because I know my sister, and she overthinks everything. She will be hanging on by a thread to every decision she will ever make with our Bug, wondering if she has done enough or if she is doing enough.

She already is. She already was.

And she doesn't owe me more than that.

You, however, do.

I need you to remind her of that - that she owes me nothing. I need you to take photos. Take as many as fucking possible. Go on hikes and look for the tiniest bugs. Make memories to hold on to and be the person who scares away Sadie's first date or holds her while she cries. To walk her down the aisle if she chooses and help her if she decides to have kids of her own.

Tell Elizabeth you love her. Every single day. Because you know as well as I do, you don't know the last time you'll be able to. Crawl into the bathtub with her when things get too much and hold her. All she needs is to be held, to know someone is there, standing by her. Thats it.

Stay up listening to vinyl with her, dance across a kitchen floor and make her laugh. Communicate with her. Please, for the love of fucking god, communicate with her about your feelings and your thoughts. She is such a good listener, and she cares so much for the people she loves. That's just who she is, so never forget it.

And promise me this one last favour...

There are more letters like this one in the red box I know she's probably only just opened, probably a long time after I'm gone. Mostly for Sadie, but there are some for Liz... maybe a couple more for you. I'm not sure yet, I'm honestly just making this up as I go.

Can you please make sure they open them? Go through the pile of memories I've left in there every so often?

I'm not being egotistical when I say I know I'm going to be missed. Grief does that to people. It's really just love, wanting to be given but with no place to go. I know those two will always love me in life and in death.

But remind them I know. Remind them I love them too - even if I'm not physically there to tell them myself.

This ended up being not as much of a shovel talk as I thought it was going to be, mostly cause I don't have anything to threaten you with truly.

But how about this, instead?

It's probably weird that I want to say thank you, right? Thank you for falling in love with my sister. Thank you for being there for her, for Sadie. For loving them when I cannot.

But I want to anyway. Because they mean everything to me, and it is my only hope they mean everything to you.

So wherever I am, whether it's in the clouds or in a fucking ray of sunshine, or if I'm a freaking bug, I can only hope I get to see the three of you be with each other in every way that matters.

Even if I can't, I know you're there.

And that's more than enough for me.

Love always,

Ridley Beck

~Fin~

🥲

Tag list:

@blue-aconite @tinytotontheoversizedpony @djs8891 @caitsymichelle13 @startrekfangirl2233

@mayhemmanaged @ereardon @dempy @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @daggerspare-standingby

@phantomxoxo @formulapierre @eli2447 @fulla02 @blckgrl-sunflower @mizzzpink @ohgodnotagainn

@bubblegumbeautyqueen @sarahsmi13s @desert-fern @lynnestra44 @memoriesat30 @penwieldingdreamer @mxlanciia

@bradleybeachbabe @bobby-r2d2-floyd @lavenderbradshaw @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars

@keyrani @craftytrashprincess @hisredheadedgoddess28 @abzidabzy @memeorydotcom @vicsnook @taestrwbrry

@its-the-pilot @dizzybee03 @cassiemitchell

Wickett 🥲

(Sadie, Liz and Jake will be around for blurbs and one-shots if that is something you all are interested in 🥰 )

----

Forever After All - The next series after DTDT

[oh-stars]

Better than the Stars

Sitcom

This is set in my Harrington Brood universe, where Steve has a ton of siblings.

a Stobin Month 2024 prompt | 930 words | CW: N/A | Rating: G

--

“The ensemble is great,” Steve says from his squished position on the couch, voice warped by how pressed in his face is, “but I hate the main character.” 

“It’s the first episode,” Robin points out, voice as muffled as his. Their heads are touching, bodies hanging off the sofa in a strange configuration as they lay on their bellies. The Harrington Summer House’s massive living sofa lets them both lay down nearly stretched out completely, so only their legs hang off the sides, resting on the tables where they stacked pillows to “extend” the sofa. “You have to let the characters figure themselves out.” 

“If he can’t hook us in the first episode, then why watch?” 

Robin reaches up to blindly smack his back. “Stop. You’re being a grump.” 

“You always talk shit,” Steve says, shifting to look up at her, “why can’t I?” 

“I at least give it a chance before I shoot it down,” Robin says, sitting up on her elbows. “Haven’t you learned anything from Argyle hanging around?” 

Steve rolls his eyes. “You’ve been hanging out with Mads too much–” 

Robin smacks him with a pillow, laughing.

“And what exactly does that mean?” 

Steve shoots up from the couch and looks behind him to see Madelyn and Roo coming in from the porch. They’re dripping with bags and an excess of scarves, peak artsy aunt as Robin would put it. Roo pushes up her massive sunglasses and smirks, laughing at Steve’s demise – but in a way that tells him she may agree with him. 

Even still, Steve digs his heels in and stands his ground. He’s not that afraid of his sister. 

“You’re making her into a mini you!” Steve kneels on the couch and drapes himself along the back to talk to her. “She was already opinionated before you sunk your claws into her and now look at her!” He reaches over and squishes Robin’s face between his fingers, waggling her face to emphasize his point. “Now she wants to give things a chance before she judges them.” 

Madelyn rolls her eyes and walks past him toward the stairs. “It’s called growth,” she calls over her shoulder, looking at him over the top of her massive sunglasses, “try it some time.” 

Steve lets go of Robin as she laughs, loud and unhinged. He turns to Roo. “Thoughts on pilot episodes, go,” he says. 

Roo hums as she picks up the bags she had set down and starts to follow her partner. “It’s a hit or a miss, you either reel me in or don’t.” She shrugs. “Simple as that.” 

“See!” Steve turns back to Robin, both of them flopping onto the couch cushions and naturally leaning in toward one another. “It’s the whole point of the pilot.” 

Robin shakes her head. “No, we’re tied. Can’t come up with a concrete conclusion if we’re tied.” 

Steve huffs. “Everyone else is gone,” he laments. “Mitch, Viv, Sydney, and Stells took all the kids to the aquarium and Oliver took Anna to that spa place–” 

“The wealth is intense in this room,” Eddie says as he walks in with a yawn. He hops over the couch and lands squarely on Steve, squirming so his bony body hits all of Steve’s sensitive parts. 

“Fuck, Eds, Jesus Christ,” Steve groans, even as he wraps his arms around him. With a quick kiss to Eddie’s forehead, Steve turns back to Robin. “And Molly’s down on the beach probably getting way too handsy with David for this early in the morning while they don’t have a kid latched on to them.”

Eddie lifts his head and wrinkles his nose. “Dude, what the fuck?”

Steve shrugs one shoulder. “What? She tells me things.” 

Robin waves away the conversation. “Eddie, tie breaker. If a pilot episode of a show doesn’t immediately grab your interest, do you write it off or give it another chance?” 

“I don’t care?”

“You, the most opinionated man in the history of men, which is saying something,” Robin says, leaning over Steve to glare at him, “don’t have an opinion on this?” 

Eddie nods, practically nuzzling into Steve’s armpit. Weirdo. “Between you two and Wayne, I never get the remote anyway so why bother?” 

Steve glances over to Robin. He’s got them there. 

She rolls her eyes. “Whatever. We’re putting a pin in this until we get a survey of everyone’s opinions.” 

“Fine,” Steve says. “I know I’ll win though, because – again – it’s the entire point of a pilot.” 

They tune back in just as the show is ending and the next show they recorded comes on. They’re only quiet until the commercial break. 

“I think we could do a better sitcom than either of these,” Robin says. 

“Are we not living one?” Steve says, motioning to the house. “We’re on a family vacation with a cast of characters big enough to fit three seasons of content into one week.” 

Robin laughs, but her eyes are all soft and gushy. “Does this make Eddie and I honorary Harringtons?” 

Eddie lifts his head up, sleep evaporating from his eyes. He raises one eyebrow in question, cocking his head to the side like a puppy. 

Steve hides his smile behind his hand as he leans back on the couch. “Maybe.” 

“I want in on the will, then,” Robin says. “When your dad finally croaks, I want that money clip.” She’s talking about his ornate money clip, the one Steve’s great grandfather passed down that’s still being used. Robin caught a glimpse of it once and her crow brain demanded she needed it. 

“Deal.”

--

Thank you @lady-lostmind for beta reading!

Ao3 Link

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

what happened the first time Wes tried to crack open the Danny is Phantom conspiracy did he like, confront Danny first or was it all behind his back like, maybe hoping ground zero would be lost among the gossip and that Danny wouldn't find out who spilled the beans once everyone knew

I mean it obviously wouldn't work because nobody believed him and the gossip didn't take off very far beyond a few people talking about Wes being kinda weird

I should absolutely write a fic about this.

I am absolutely going to write a fic about this.

I AM RIGHT NOW GOING TO WRITE A FIC ABOUT THIS.

----

"Hey Fenton! Fenton!!" Dash came bounding over and threw a meaty arm around his shoulder.

"Jesus Dash! What?!" Danny buckled under the weight (pretended to anyway) as Dash gave him a surprisingly lighthearted punch on the arm.

"You haven't heard?! Wes has this total batshit insane theory, it's hilarious!"

Dash was in a genuine giggle-fit, Danny didn't think he'd ever seen him this merry, he was also starting to suspect he was going to leave this conversation being the butt of the joke somehow. Wait-

"Wes? Who the heck is Wes?" Danny asked, it wasn't like he knew everyone in school, like Dash seemed to.

"He's on the basketball team, you know, tall guy, red hair, threw a sick move at least month's game! You know, WES!"

"I didn't watch that game."

"Oh," said Dash, flatly, "Oh yeah, almost forgot you're a total nerd. Anyway, like I was saying!"

Dash grabbed Danny by the shoulders and nearly lifted him off the floor.

"Wes thinks," he could barely speak through his giggling, he even snorted a few times, "Wes thinks your secretly PHANTOM."

Dash dropped Danny back down as he doubled over laughing.

"Could you imagine?! You! You're not even DEAD!" Dash honest to god slapped his knee in mirth.

Danny went through an incredibly swift array of emotions in the span of about five seconds.

The first was fear, clear and bracing, then came confusion, how did he know? Had he seen something? Then there was hope, Dash didn't believe it, and if DASH didn't believe it, maybe nobody else believed it either. Then relief, he could roll with this, he could TOTALLY roll with this! Dash was right! It was absurd, it was ridiculous, it was hilarious, him being Phantom? What utter nonsense!

Sam and Tucker had been standing by his side at a Dash-safe distance, looking absolutely horrified. Sam looked ready to jump in and lay down a swift defence, but Danny gave a quick little low wave for her to stand down. He got this.

"Oh my god SERIOUSLY?" Danny busted out a slightly hysterical laugh, okay so he wasn't completely over the initial terrified anxiety.

"How could I- I mean what- WHY does he think I'M Phantom?! I mean how does that even work I don't-"

Dash clapped him on the shoulder, this was probably the most contact he'd ever had with him without being physically assaulted.

"I know right?! Like apparently he thinks you look alike? And he's all like 'But I've seen his eyes glow green' and 'they're never in the same roo-hoo-hoom." Dash wheezed and started hacking and coughing.

Danny carefully constructed a look of offence.

"Hey I mean, it's not THAT funny. Why couldn't I be Phantom! I know how to use a Fenton Thermos! Look I even HAVE one right-" he torn open his backpack and pulled one out, making sure to fumble it in a terrific display of fuck-uppery and drop it noisily on the cafeteria floor, he dropped to his knees trying to grab it but knocked it under a table.

A few girls standing nearby who'd been listening in started tittering, one of the guys sitting at the table snorted milk through his nose and Dash was just about on the floor in hysterics.

Even Sam and Tucker covered their mouths in an attempt to look like they were holding in laughter. Tucker muttered to Sam, just loud enough for people around to hear.

"I mean, he's our friend and we love him, but god that was painful to watch. He knows he's terrible at ghost hunting! He's got like, nothing but thumbs."

Danny climbed under the table, grabbed at the thermos and lifted it up as he crawled back out.

"See! See! I have a thermos! I could TOTALLY be Phantom!"

Sam walked over and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "It's okay bud, I think you'd be a great Phantom." her voice was thick with her usual sarcasm, soaked in pity though it were.

Danny's ears burned in embarrassment, he might have been humiliating himself on purpose, but it was still humiliating, watching everyone laugh at him for being so weak and incompetent. He was grateful to his friends for pushing through their discomfort and keeping up the act, it was still painful, but it came with a wash of pure unadulterated relief.

Nobody believed this Wes guy, nobody thought it could be even remotely possible. People would talk about it for a little while, have a laugh, maybe there would be a few memes and in-jokes, but eventually it would drop off. People would forget all about it and it would be just another notch on the gossip mill belt.

Even if someone DID believe it, they could never admit it for fear of vicious ridicule, for once in his life peer pressure was his friend.

And then Wes walked in.

Once Danny saw him he realised that he did recognise Wes, he'd seen him hanging around Kwan a few times, and chatting with Star, he was also in Danny's english class. That was about as familiar as he got with the guy, they'd never spoken a word to each other.

Wes had a terrifying expression of seething fury ripping across his face. He was glaring at Dash.

"It's NOT. FUNNY."

Dash was completely unable to stand, it was honestly overkill, Danny almost thought he was hamming it up on purpose, but maybe not, his face was turning an alarming shade of red after all.

"Wes don-" Dash gasped. "Don't do this to me man, I can't brea-" Dash was gasping for air, trying desperately to hold down the giggles.

Danny could almost see steam rising as Wes seethed. Then suddenly that furious stare was shooting daggers straight at him. Danny shrank into himself, looking as small and helpless as he possibly could.

"Uh hey Wes, um, I've heard the news." he joked tacking on a nervous laugh for emphasis. "Uh, soooo," he tossed the thermos from hand to hand, nearly dropping it again. "Is this like, just a joke or do you really-?"

Dash continued to wheeze, Kwan was holding him up by the arm, muttering about getting some water to cool off.

Wes strode over until he and Danny were face to face, he was taller by a good couple inches, even more so with Danny making a conscious effort to appear small.

Wes jabbed a sharp finger into his collarbone.

"Don't think I'm fooled by this pathetic act you've got going on, I am ONTO you, Phantom." he spat.

Danny glanced sidelong at the table beside him, silently begging for assistance, they only watched in silence, strained faces trying not to laugh. A glance the other way to his friends, they simply shrugged.

"Um, okaaay," Danny started backing away slowly. "Uh look Wes I am honestly really flattered but, do we really look that alike?" Danny ran a hand through his hair and then pointed up at Wes. "I mean we BOTH kinda have Phantom's haircut."

Sam deadpanned from the sidelines, "Maybe they're BOTH Phantom."

"We should start marketing that haircut." Tucker muttered to himself, tapping something on his tablet. "We could make a fortune, are you any good at hairdressing?"

Sam shot him a look of disgust and did not dignify the question with a response.

"Don't play dumb you two," said Wes, flipping his focus, "You're definitely in on this!"

The entire cafeteria was awash with giggles by this point. Just about everyone had heard about Wes' theory, but were mostly convinced it was some kinda joke. Now? Now they knew Wes was straight up fucking delusional.

He glanced around as people laughed, at him. At HIM.

"It's not funny!" he yelled over the crowed, the tittering increased in volume. Someone across the room yelled-

"Hey if I get the haircut, can I be Phantom too?"

One of the goths stood up on her seat.

"I've GOT the haircut! Mom says it's MY TURN to be the Phantom!"

There was a fresh round of mirthful laughter, some kids wheezing as hard as Dash had been. Another few kids piped up above the cacophony, throwing jokes of their own.

"I've got a soup thermos so I'm Phantom now, sorry sweaty I don't make the rules."

"If I wear a Phantom shirt does that make me Phantom ALL the time or am I only Phantom when I'm wearing it?"

"I have an ass, Phantom has an ass. Conclusion: I am Phantom's ass."

"Tag yourself I'm the thermos."

"DO THE BUTTS MATCH?"

Wes had been trying to scream over the din, infuriated, desperate to find SOMEONE who would listen.

Danny gave him a pat on the back.

"Hey, if it makes you feel any better, The Guys in White once hunted some guy down because he had white hair, if a government agency can fuck that up then-"

Wes slugged him.

It wasn't a particularly solid punch like Dash's hits, it was quick and precise, Was wasn't a brawny guy, but he was lean and fast and had good aim.

Danny whuffed out a heavy breath as Wes' fist collided with his sternum and he collapsed to the floor.

Everyone in the cafeteria lost their shit, a few people screamed and one table of football jocks all stood up chanting, "FIGHT. FIGHT. FIGHT. FIGHT."

Tucker ran over to him as Sam stepped up and without hesitation slammed a fist straight into Wes' nose.

The footballers lost their minds, one of the goths stood up on their table screaming "REPRESEEENT!!"

Wes backed up immediately, crying out from the sharp pain blossoming across his face, he'd never been hit before and couldn't pull his thoughts together quick enough to throw a punch back at her, so he was taken by surprise once again as Sam placed a solid roundhouse kick to his stomach.

He had certainly not been expecting that kind of brute strength from her, she had incapacitated him swiftly and effectively, barely having broken a sweat.

One of his teammates hollered over the crowd and came barrelling down on the goth, she dodged without batting an eye and darted nimbly out of the way, giving the guy a quick kick in the pants to throw him off balance as she rocketed for the cafeteria door.

As Wes took a deep breath through his mouth, his nose dripping blood, he realised that Danny and Tucker were gone. The fight had lasted only seconds but Sam had run distraction well enough for the boys to take off without anyone noticing, a glance around showed Tucker supporting Danny about to exit through the cafeteria doors.

The doors opened to an out of breath Mr Lancer on the other side.

"'The Light Fantastic!' WHAT is going on here?!"

Oh they were all so fucked.

[internalsealpanic]

All That Glitters

Summary: Pandora’s box is a black box covered in silk and embossed with the initials R.S.

a/n: So uh this work is a follow up to my fic Better Die than Doubt but it can be read as a stand alone. This thing resulted from the combined might of  @knightfall05x,  @lucy-roo​, and my thirst. I said the follow up to that fic would be fluffy. The chronological follow up will come out at some point. I  just have a single braincell and it decided it wanted to write more Black Mask being an absolute bastard. Thanks to those two hoes for enabling and proof reading. See you both in hell

warnings:  This is smut. I was being haunted. This work contains noncon, past noncon, violence, Roman being an asshole, daddy kink, size kink, strength kink (if you squint ), yandere themes, stalking, exhibitionism, a dude who cannot take no for  an answer and choking.  

masterlist

“Hey Jay,” You chirp into the phone, maneuvering it over your shoulder carefully so you wouldn't drop it while you held your soda can at an arm's length away from you hoping it wouldn’t explode on you when you attempt to open it. 

 “Hey, sweet-” You blow out a raspberry halting the correction in its tracks. You can practically picture Jason’s mouth swerve into an odd shape caught between proceeding with his correction or backtracking.  He chose neither. You hear him swear viciously. You snort making him huff. 

 “What’s up, asshat?” He asks, endearingly. You can pretty much hear him rolling his eyes from this side of the world. You frown hearing how winded he sounded. 

 “Jay, if this is a bad time, I can-”

 “You’re fine it’s just a little-”

 “JAYBIRD, A LITTLE HELP WOULD BE NICE”

 “Roy sounds like he needs help. I can call back later.”

 “Roy can handle himself.”

 “Thanks for the confidence, Jaybird, but I think I’d prefer if you kept shooting straight.”

 You snort feeling warmth build up in your chest despite the chilly weather. You chirp delighted when you open the can and it doesn’t explode. You hear Jason chuckle. The smart remark he had on the edge of his tongue dies on his lips when your breath hitches audibly at the sound of his gun firing. Jason makes a noise, the kind you use to prompt someone to tell you if they’re ok without having to ask. You swallow and nod and curse remembering he can’t see you. You blow out a breath, making sure it comes out steady. 

 “Y/n...”

 “I’m-” You wanted to say fine but you knew the word fine was wholly inappropriate and untrue for this situation. “I’m gonna survive. I promise.” 

 Jason doesn’t make a sound of agreement or disagreement. He simply acknowledges it. You silently thank him for the neutrality. 

 “JAYBIRD”

 “SHUT UP, HARPER”

 You hear Kory sigh in exasperation somewhere in the distance.  In the background, you hear a shriek which you assume is from Jason. Then the line cuts out. 

You try to redial. 

 Nothing. 

 You try again.

 Nothing. 

 A laugh rips out of your chest. You cry out in pain, the fizzy drink rushing up your nose. You wince and curse and settle on blaming Jason.  You suspect they somehow broke the phone. You wouldn’t be too surprised by that outcome. You sigh but there was no point in complaining about it. You might as well finish your lunch in peace. 

   You chew on your cheek as you walk back to your cubicle, everyone’s eyes are on you. You feel your breathing pick up a fraction of a second faster. 

 One

 Two

 .

.

.

.

 Two

 Fuck

 You dig your nails into your palm. Your footfalls become heavier and a little louder even against the white noise around you. You slowdown and shake your head. You haven’t had an attack at work so far and you aren’t about to start now. You inhale deeply, letting your chest expand as you run through the things Dinah taught you.  

 Take stock of the situation around you. 

 The world around you was buzzing with life-shuffling papers, ringing phones, humming of machines, and blips of voices here and there. The room is bright and clean under the light of sterile fluorescent lights. You take in all the voices around you. You’re not alone. The knot building in your shoulders loosens. You continue. 

 Take stock of your body. 

 Your body is trembling, the beginnings of a panic attack looming over you. Instead of cursing it, you let it. It was only natural to relapse once in a while. The trauma wasn’t fresh. Not in your opinion, at least. Dinah and, apparently, everyone else had a different opinion. You’re good at being ok but you were human. You let out a  long breath, half-tempted to let your eyes slide shut but you’re afraid of finding yourself in that room again, of seeing him, of feeling him on you. Revulsion spasmed in your body in powerful waves. Sure, you’re a showboat, Jay had said as much, but showing off and causing a scene were two entirely different things and you weren’t entirely sure you could endure the looks of pity from your coworkers every time you came through those doors. 

 Stiffly, you walk towards your cubicle. Your neighbor, Chelsea, smiling conspiratorially at you while your manager glares daggers at you. You raise an eyebrow at Chelsea who waggles her eyebrows in return.   

 “This is how you tell me I got fired?” You sigh, a smile twitching at the corners of your mouth. 

 Chelsea rolls her eyes at you. “Nope, but the boss man did want me to tell you to tell your boyfriend that he really shouldn’t be sending you gifts at work but honestly, I …...” Your brows knit in confusion, cold dread licking at the pit of your stomach. 

 “I don’t have a boyfriend.” You say slowly trying to keep the mounting panic out of your voice. You could hear your blood pulsating in your ears, heart threatening to jump out of your chest. Your feet are itching for you to run outside and call Jason or Dinah or anyone but the stupider part of you- the curious part of you was clawing at your mind to proceed. 

“Y/n, are- are you ok?” You blink and look at the clock. Two minutes. You blacked out for two minutes which, if you were being totally honest, was a huge improvement. 

 “Yeah. I’m fine.”

 “If you say so” She shrugs, her eyes still not pulling away from you.  

 Mechanically, you turn to your desk. Your entire being freezes when your eyes land on the black box sitting on the desk and the large bouquet of red roses sitting next to it.  The box was rectangular, black with silver trimmings embossed on it. Large ‘R.S.’ written in fancy lettering at the bottom right corner of the lid. You wanted to vomit. 

 You draw a breath and flex your fingers. You can feel your teeth digging into your cheeks. 

 “Hey, Chel?”

 “Yeah?”

 “Can I borrow some tissues?” You ask your voice barely above a whisper but still miraculously steady. She frowns at your handing you a couple of tissues. Normally, you keep your vigilante habits out of your civilian life but considering the initials embossed on this obnoxiously expensive-looking box sitting on your desk, you think this level of paranoia is justified. 

 You stop to calculate the odds that the box contained explosives which turns up zero. You sigh but a shiver climbs up your spine when you run through the possibilities of what Roman could have thought of as a gift. 

 “Y/n, what the fuck?” If Chelsea wasn’t watching you before, she was now. You glance at her quickly and give her a weak smile. You swallow the lump forming in your throat. Cautiously, you lift the lid quietly regretting not calculating the possibility of anything toxic being in it. You’re honestly surprised nothing happened. You roll your eyes upon seeing the expensive-looking black silk covering the inside.

Yes, rub your money in my face while you scare me shitless why don’t you, you fucking asshole, you think grumpily peeling the fabric away. 

 Your heart comes to a full stop when you’re met with a pair of lacy lingerie. Your lacy lingerie. Your USED lacy lingerie. You blink trying not to focus on the white stains. You sincerely did not want to think about that. Moving them aside you find a bloody shirt, the sound of its shifting fabric making gooseflesh spread all over your body. 

 You recognize it. You didn’t want to, but here it was. The bloodstains were dry but they were still visible even against the dark fabric of the shirt. Your skin prickles where the scars on your body sit. The knife wounds sting and throb as if freshly cut.  It takes everything in you not to vomit.

  It was probably the single-minded curiosity that kept you going. You maneuver the shirt carefully making sure it makes as little sound as possible.  Underneath it is a collar, simple but clearly expensive leather with the tag R.S. glittering under the sterile lights. Your throat constricts. You tear your gaze away. Your eyes sting. Next to it was a stack of photos. The top photo showed you with your, shirt torn exposing your breasts. Someone was inside you, gripping your hips. You gag.  You reign your mind in. You flip the stack over and gather your breath. Your heart stops again when you see Roman’s familiar handwriting on the back of a photo.   

 “Miss me?”

The drive back to your apartment was a blur consisting of what was most likely several severe traffic violations but you needed- you need to get out of town as quickly as possible. The odds of Roman himself showing up to your little town was low, very low. Not that you’ve actually calculated it. You don’t need to. The man walks around like his feet bless every surface they touch. The man has a loaded god complex the size of Russia to put it generously. Fetching you was simply beneath him. He had henchmen for a reason after all. 

 You wave to your landlady and her husband amiably as you walk past them keeping the nervous thrum out of your movement. Your landlady returns the gesture, elbowing her sneering husband. You know what he thinks of you and your habits. Take a few guys home with you and suddenly you’re a slut. Your promiscuity was none of his fucking business. Your body was yours to do with, to give, and to take back. It was yours. It’s yours, you assure yourself but the feeling of your body and mind hanging loosely off of each other feels painfully vivid at the moment. 

 You shake your head. This wasn’t the best time to sort out your hang-ups.  

 You press your ear to your apartment door then remembered just how thick it was and remembered that you didn’t exactly have super hearing. You sigh. What you would give to be Supes right about now. You enter the apartment careful not to make your steps audible. That, however, was rendered moot by the two very large and blocky men standing in your living room. You exhale both in frustration and relief. If Roman Fucking Sionis thinks he can scare you with two meatheads, he was clearly insulting you. Well, at least, he didn’t hire anyone actually competent considering all your gear was in a duffle bag tucked neatly away under your bed. Yanno, just for this sort of eventuality. Now that you think about it. You really should have just kept it in your car but small-town crime seems to have softened you. 

 You smile letting the irritation mold you into something sharp and venomous. You throw the box at one of the henchmen goading them to attack you. Its contents scattering all over the floor. You can’t bring yourself to care that some of the photos land right side up. 

 “Tell your chicken shit of a boss to come scare me himself,” You laugh, manic relief flooding through you. You feel like you’re going mad but you don’t care. It’s so much more feasible to deal with these men than it is to have to even think about Roman. “He doesn’t even have the balls to-”

 “Well, it’s nice to see you too, Sweetheart.” comes a gravelly voice from the bedroom. Your stomach drops. Roman strides out of your bedroom adjusting the cuff link of his obnoxiously expensive suit.  He looks down to the photos and gifts scattered on the ground, frowning he bends down to pick up the collar, dusting it off and stuffing it in his pocket. 

 Your fight or flight response freezes. You back into the door, the material feeling too solid for the moment. You inhale sharply, only managing short shallow breaths as Roman slowly closes the distance between you. His footfalls loud, heavy, and deliberately casual making your blood thrum. 

 No. No. No. 

 Your eyes flicker wildly around the room looking for any weapon within reach, your mind running through the numbers, the probabilities melding together into incoherent blotches of red in the back of your skull. Roman slams his large hands on either side of your head. The impact makes the door creak. You can’t stop yourself from flinching visibly, surprise and fear carving themselves on to your face. Roman barks out a derisive laugh as he trails a leather-clad finger down your chin, your throat, then to your cleavage. The contact against your bare skin makes you bristle. 

 “This here?” He emphasizes, his fingers playing with the top button of your shirt popping it carelessly revealing your baby pink, lace bra hidden beneath. “This is a little low cut for the office, isn’t it, princess?”  

 Annoyance overwhelms your sense of self-preservation. “I’m not about to take fashion advice from a guy who looks like he watches Scar Face daily.” You snipe, teeth bared.  Roman hums the undercurrent of rage filling the air. Your ribs ache, remembering an old injury. Your mouth slams shut cutting off any other snide remarks. 

 “You wear these clothes to wind me up, don’t you?” Roman drawls, his leather-clad fingers tracing up the expanse of your thigh exposed by the slit of your skirt, bunching up the skirt and playing with the waistband of your thong as he does so. His thumbs pressing circles against your inner thigh, you can’t help but quiver under his touch. “Oh the fun hasn’t even started yet...just wait”, he bites your ear lobe and tugs it between his teeth. He pulls back and glares at you. “Do you want to know how I found you in this dead-end town, princess?” He asks tilting your chin with his gloved hand. You shake your head not really interested at the moment. You’re too distracted by how flush your body was getting as he presses you further into the door with his bulk. You note with disgust the arousal suffusing through your limbs. 

 “You were all over the news, sweetheart,” You’re trying to remember what he could possibly be talking about. He leans in closer, leather-clad hand brushing against his thumb against your bottom lip, your lips parting automatically for him. He places his gloved thumb between your parted lips. “Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize that goofy smile of yours?”  You shiver lips wrapping around the intruding digit.  Your tongue flicks and swirls around it in a practiced gesture. “Good girl.” Roman hums, a grin spreading across his face while thick shame blankets you. You frown at how familiar the taste of the glove is against your tongue. You push your thoughts away wishing your mind would fall away. 

 “Baby,” He draws his hand away from your lips, wiping the thin string of saliva on your face. His hands glide down the sides of your body. “Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize these hips?” His hands grab at your hips roughly, lifting you and pulling them flush against his own. “Baby. I know what’s mine and this time I won’t let you get away from me.” He whispers against your neck, voice husky and rough. You swallow feeling his lips brush against your pulse. 

 Roughly, he wedges a thigh between your legs, the friction against your core making you keen. The friction woke something in you and loosened a few other things. Your hips roll desperately against the thick muscle of his thighs. Roman grins against your neck,  loosening his grip on your hips and letting you fuck yourself on his thigh. You will yourself to stop but the heat twisting in your gut is too much. You hate yourself. You well and truly hate yourself. Your cheeks warm, breath coming out in pants. 

 Roman places a kiss on your collarbone, teeth grazing your sensitive flesh. Your tongue is caught between your teeth to hold back a moan but the shiver spreading throughout your body says it too loudly. Roman chuckles, vibrations deep within his chest making you weak. Roman licks a stripe up your neck, planting kisses and hickeys along your jaw. “God, you taste sweet, princess.” He murmurs hot against your neck, the smirk dripping from his voice. It feels like acid against your skin. 

 He guides your pliant arms to loop around his shoulders. You obey soundlessly, tipping your head back giving him room to ravish your neck. He does with unbridled enthusiasm. You feel trapped in your own body. You don’t want this. You want to push him away but the fear coursing through you leaves you a passenger in your own body. Your breath hitches with each bite and kiss. 

 “Mine.” He rumbles resolutely, sliding the cloth of your top placing a bite on your shoulder. It stings without even looking, you know it’s deep. 

 “No” You whisper, low and unsure. 

 “No?” He challenges pulling away from your shoulder. 

 “No” You echo voice frustratingly unsteady. He sneers down at you, smile condescending. A biting rebellious part of you demands that you snarl and spit something brisque and witty at him but it’s pushed down by something viscous filling your chest. How are you drowning and why are you not dead yet?

 Just let it pass, your mind whispers to itself. Just let him get his fill and he’ll be on his way. You don’t even have to get hurt. You sincerely want to believe this. You just want this to not happen. The thought of it summons a wave of nausea deep within you. Tears well up in the corner of your eyes. You blink rapidly chasing them away. He likes it when you cry. 

 “Baby, you can’t tell me you don’t want this,” He emphasizes, pressing his thigh against your sopping pussy. The pressure makes you whine.  “Not when you’re being all cute and fucking yourself on my thigh like the dirty slut you are.”

 No. No. No.

 Rat-tat. 

 You will your hips to stop their movement but they’re too lost in their momentum. Your eyes flicker to Roman’s men, large eyes pleading. They stand stiffly doing their best to ignore you. They’re doing a damn fine job of it. 

 “Oh they won’t do anything, they’re here to watch,” Roman whispers hotly against your ear.  Your eyes flicker to them again. Your breath catching when your eyes meet one of theirs, seeing not an ounce of pity. You shove the bile rising in your throat and the quirk on their lips deep somewhere else, somewhere away from you.   

 You try to squirm away but Roman’s arm presses into your windpipe pinning you in place. You thrash and kick and hiss but your head feels light. You hear fabric shift and you still. The sound of the zipper is too loud and too real.  

Roman takes your lips in a forceful kiss making you gasp. His tongue forces its way into your mouth.  He releases your neck. You feel his fingers trail up the slits of your skirt. You try to focus on them rather than what’s pressing stiffly against your inner thigh. The fabric of your skirt bunch up by your hips. You feel your panties getting pushed aside by large fingers. You whimper again, clawing at the expensive fabric of Roman’s suit. “Please don’t do this.” You plead breathily against his ear. 

 He laughs, voice gravelly and harsh. Without further warning or preparation or ceremony, Roman shoves himself inside your warmth, pushing you further into the door. You gasp, the burning stretch making your body tremble all over. He bottomed out with a loud groan. You wanted to cover your ears or have your mind fall out of your reach but here it was painfully present along with your frozen body. He’s loud, groaning and panting as he fucks into you. He thrusts into you with wild abandon, hips clashing against each other with bruising intensity. You can feel his cock dragging in and out of you, hitting every spot violently. He wants this to hurt. You hope it would too. 

 Your cheeks burn with how your walls spasm around his cock. You want to push him away, to take him out of you but it feels so good. You try to smother the lewd sounds you make into his shirt.  Roman’s hands squeeze tightly around your waist in warning. “Yeah, that's it, baby. Let daddy know how much you want this.” You don’t protest. Instead, you let your mouth hang open and let the lewd mewls and keens tumble out. He drills into you more violently seemingly spurred on by your sounds. 

 You come with a whimper. You want to bury yourself in a hole. He comes not long after still fucking into you as he does, making sure your pussy takes all of his cum.  

 He pulls out of you, the slick sound of it absolutely sinful. Your body is slack against the door, too drained to hold itself up.  Roman pulls back, grinning down at you and whistling appreciatively as he admires his work. “Let’s dress you back up, sweetheart.” Roman coos locking something around your neck.  You don’t need to look down to know what he’s put there. The cool metal of the R.S. hanging off the collar presses stark against your hot sensitive skin.

 “You look sooo much better like this,” Blearily you look past him. Your duffle bag is already in the arms of one of his men. He grabs your face roughly making you look him in the eyes. “All mine- just as you should be.” 

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

Thanks for reading! I swear I will do more fluff in the near future. I just needed this out of my system. 

Tag list:  @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-horizon11, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell

[onlyhereforangst]

WWR

The Talk™️

lololol just kidding sorry Laura I love you here’s the real thing just in time 😘😘

We start with Ellie being veeeeery sus 👀 checking out Eastern Europe and the various countries, I mean yes there are plenty of nice, beautiful places there but this is a procedural aka obviously that area can only be shady. I also love that Nick came up silently and waited, watched what she was doing very intently, before announcing his presence. Almost like he’s been suspecting something is up with her for a little while now and seized on this perfect opportunity to do a little digging. But at the same time he doesn’t let it go on too long, and he almost gives her an out- he doesn’t accuse her of being shady AF, instead he’s like oh clearly she’s planning a trip because she’s always talked about loving Eastern Europe not the Bahamas like we’d just gotten jealous over a year ago…right, Ellie? A trip? And then her response ooo girl. She starts to get uber defensive and then realizes that oh wait, he handed me an out on a silver platter so yeah let me take it real quick. AND HE DOESN’T CALL HER ON IT. That’s the real good stuff in this scene- he’s a trained federal agent with years of undercover work, he can tell when someone is outright lying *especially* when that someone is Ellie. So he takes her defensive hesitation and than blatant lie and rolls with it. Beeeecause he trusts her. He trusts her to tell him when she’s ready. He saw how hurt she got when he kept bothering her after the kidnapping, and also saw her tell him once she was ready to. So yeah, he gets it now. He may be seriously concerned for her underneath that joking exterior, but he trusts her to tell him when the time is right, and also likely feels she wouldn’t keep anything huge huge from him. *cue getting ready for heartbreak in the finale it’s fine everything is fine*

Of course we move on to the flirty stuff because we avoid serious talk here 🙄 Ellie still sus though don’t get it wrong, shutting that laptop real quick when he rounds the corner taking no further chances. And her crossing her arms while he offends her choice of “vacation” hahaha she’s so obvious, honey you got the hots for him it’s ok. Little middle school flirting like oh yeah you can do better? Prove it jerk. And Niiiiiick 🥵 I wish you could see the screenshot I’m paused on right now after he says it depends on who he’s going with before he asks her who she’s going with because DAMN that look. He can think of one (1) person and one person only who he’d go on a trip with. Her little smirk back before she decides to throw all pretense to the wayside and says fuck it I don’t care that we’re in the bullpen out in the open lemme flirt with you ~*Agent Torres*~ AND HE’S LIKE TWO CAN PLAY AGENT BISHOP PLEASE INVITE ME ON YOUR TRIP THAT I KNOW DOESN’T EXIST BUT I’D LIKE TO KNOW I’D BE INVITED IF IT DID. And please her giddy smile afterwards and then she goes from leaning back in her chair to leaning forward towards him because these two are absolutely drawn to each other bitches and I can’t get enough of them and their little playful smiles and body language. AND NEITHER CAN JIMMY. 

Jimmy is the ellick fandom. Because yes, keep going this is ✨just delightful✨ and I never want it to stop unless you’re kissing. Thank you. And pleeeeease them stumbling over their words when they realized they’ve been caught I CANT. They both look *so* uncomfortable and it’s hilarious, and then Ellie can’t help but laugh at Nick’s dumb joke making fun of Jimmy because it’s her man and he’s so *funny*. 

Bring us to Jimmy redeeming himself. But also yes this just confirms to me that he told Nick what he needed to hear back when he said zero chemistry. And now Jimmy’s observed silently, see where Nick has come in the last year and everything the two have been through and knows he ready to hear it for real. Well Jimmy was ready a while ago for them to move it along so yeah he’s like where’s my spoon I’m gonna STIR THIS POT. And then it is born, the slogan of the episode, the point of the WWR (please don’t have PTSD Laura), The Talk™️. Nick’s face oooo man, he initially tries to deflect like no we aren’t talking about that cozy scene nuh uh and then it turns into his worst nightmare- being called out by James Palmer of all people with Ellie literally five feet away. (ALSO MCGEE IS LITERALLY A FOOT BEHIND THEM. He 1000% heard this entire conversation if Ellie heard it. Bro better not try to deny a single thing later I’m watching you sir 👀) Nick’s expression is screaming what the fuck shut UP Jimmy this can’t possibly be happening so let me try to joke and deflect again (small smile because it was still a little funny) and then back to what the fuck he’s undeterred shit shit shit oh thank god McGee has started talking yes we have a goddamn huge problem autopsy gremlin won’t take the damn hint. 

And woooooow the first time I’ve seen Nick at his desk in a while 👀👀 he said shit people are on to me let me put ✨space✨ in between us for like five seconds while we still shoot each other cute smiles. 

Oooooooh now we here for the evisceration. The Here Lies James Palmer moment of the episode. Catch me dYING in the club, not crying. Because holy shit Ellie this was not only brutal and Brian absolutely killed it during this scene with his reactions to Ellie ripping him apart. His “oh…Oh…oooh.” Had me cackling. And Ellie you are the poster child of defensive, pulling out all the stops. Let me deny everything, let me then be a slight hypocrite because people shouldn’t be talking about me (because I’m terrified about considering broaching that topic too) but I can talk about Gibbs and Sloane previously, and then also like sort of admitting to it by asking Jimmy what people think is going on because that’s the question she would *love* to know the answer to but hasn’t gotten yet. All the while cue me laughing hysterically at jimmy, top tier scene right here lets be honest. Because then Kasie comes in and it’s just perfect 🤣🤣🤣 this was his sister, Painful. Couldn’t have said it better myself Kasie 😭💀

Lol at McGee telling Ellie not to tell Nick he was right about it being a coincidence 😂

HOW CLOSE DO WE NEED TO STAND TOGETHER Y’ALL. HOW CLOSE. THERE’S A WHOLE GODDAMN BULLPEN. Remember when I said Nick wanted space for 5 whole seconds, yeah this is why. They’re straight magnets - drawn together indubitably 👀

Quick detour for the continued storyline of sus!Ellie and it makes me even more and more excited for the finaleeeeee. Because honey why do you know it takes 10 pounds of pressure to rip a trachea out and yes we all know it’s Odette and I can’t wait for the aaaaaangst. Also Kasie always coming in clutch with the humor, I live for it. “No you right I got nothing” 🤣🤣

Once again, Nick forgot about his desk, it was short-lived wasn’t it? 😅 

Now to another fun scene, and I feel like there’s a little double meaning to when Nick talks to Ellie about Phineas going through a lot this year, “more than most of us, which is saying a lot this year” - obviously covid but also maybe a callback to the kidnapping/jail cell stuff they dealt with?? Maybe?? Anyways, them being so awkward cute together because there’s a slight lull in the case so they revert back to their middle school selves, “so” “so…” I can’t with them omg. And then, and THEN of the two to bring it up, it’s Nick!!!! Yes!!! The GROWTH. This man used to be so emotionally closed off and now he, HE is bringing up The Talk™️ and he almost chickens out, he almost says haha you’re right we don’t have to have The Talk™️ after Ellie has a minor freakout because good god this girl is on *edge*. Her mind has probably been going a mile a minute the second she heard Jimmy call them out at the crime scene because she’s been living in blissful ignorance the past months/year whatever and now everything is smacking her in the face. But Nick, ugh I love the growth. He brushes it off and then has a moment where his face is like, no, no I’m not a wuss and he admits that yes he’s thought about it (the way he pauses when he says “not that it hasn’t been on my mind…us…” and I’m like yeah you two as a couple has been on your mind hasn’t it Nick 👀) and yes I want to have The Talk™️ with you Ellie Bishop. And not only does he admit this he’s also the one that’s like ok yeah cool BUT WHEN. Let’s nail this down please, I need it in my planner asap. And then she gets all giggly again “I don’t know when do *you* think?” Like omg I’m literally in middle school again. They’re so fucking cute and awkward it’s precious. Especially when they have to end their conversation and suddenly act normal when talking to McGee 😅😍 then they go separate ways and the look Ellie shoots Nick ahhhhhhh it’s almost like a let’s table this but also shit we really did half open that can of worms in the middle of a work day. Nick sighs and looks briefly to the sky like shit what did I do in a good way and bad way haha. 

Back to Kasie with the ✨iconic✨ lines I love herrrr. Ellie being sus again with being resistant to change. I can’t decide if she’s not only talking about the possibility of dating Nick (once again defensive because Kasie about came for her throat hahahah) but also maybe about whatever is going to go down with Odette 👀👀

HERE WE ARE. THE MOMENT WE’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR. Back to being cute little awkward idiots in love that need to have The Talk™️. I mean come on they’re trying so hard to avoid the actual talk and just dancing around it “so” “so” “talk a roo” “talk a reeno” excuse me what the fuck are you saying just SAY IT. And Nick is still ready and rearing to go but also wants to respect Ellie and give her space if needed so he offers to just agree The Talk™️ needs to be had. And of course she counters with “need is a strong word” because damn this girl is spiraling. She’s so terrified of the outcome of this talk she wants to deny it needs to exist but still she can’t help it at the end of the day. And Nick is still like ok BUT WHEN. I WANT TO TELL YOU I LOVE YOU AFTER YOU TELL ME YOU LOVE ME. SO LIKE WHEN ELLIE WHEN. And he once again plays off her deflection (a theme of this episode) with yeah yeah they’re super tired not at all wired just thinking about this talk that is at the tip of his tongue. At least Ellie is finally seeing the light and realizes that they should promise to have The Talk™️ but as she sits there staring at the elevator in front of her she’s like oh fuck, it can’t be soon can it. Fuck fuck fuck I can’t hold this in longer, we can’t keep dancing around it. fuck. So when Nick once again tries to press her to nail down a time she’s like well fuck it let’s do this shit now. Then she can’t realized that shit I actually said it, I actually said that. I said we should have The Talk™️ now. And Nick’s genuine surprise mirrors hers because she’s been the one half-denying The Talk™️ all day and now she wants to do this right here right now??? But at the same time he’s got a little smile to his face because he loves the idea of her being on board and finally getting this done. Finally getting to hear how she feels. 

So they walk into the elevator with a MUCH better vibe than the last time they walked in all serious at night (looking at you dumb Nick with Elena) but I guess the Elena Elevator Talk walked so the Ellie Elevator Talk could run 👀

And Nick while yes he’s ready for this shit to finally happen he’s still vulnerable, still terrified of opening himself up because he’s seen his dad (recently) and how commitment and relationships run in the family 🙄 plus this is all very new to him outside of Sofia and this is definitely not new to Ellie (Jake, qasim). He needs to hear she’s all-in too, needs to know he hasn’t built something up in his head for something serious when she views it as just a flirtation between friends. So he nervously says ladies first and while Ellie gives him a look of protest and wtf man, I think deep down she knows this is all so difficult for him despite how much he’s pushed it over the course of the day plus SHE is ready to get this out in the open. The moment she decided to stop denying and spiraling she went full force head on let’s talk about us. She hedges for a second and Nick continues to be nervous as she’s clearly building up her own nerve. Then she says probably the exact same moment he’s thinking of- or at least one of them- the jail cell. The defining, triggering moment that set this thing at full speed. He can’t believe she’s really saying the words, about to hear what he hopes is his feeling of that jail cell reciprocated in her words and his head turns quickly to look at her, unable to believe his ears that what he’s been dying for all along is going to happen. The Talk™️ is happening and damn it seems like it’s happening in the right direction. 

Of course we have no damn clue what was said and I’m jaded and don’t think they’ll ever tell us- RIP the note. BUT I’m so glad it actually happened (and the cinematographic parallels of course), a STEP towards canon!Ellick I’m fine. 

Now to see where they take this from here in the last two episodes and I can only hope an angst filled canon!Ellick because duh. 

[the-queen-of-fanart]

Laserbox fanfic

Just a little heads up here I haven't written one of these in a while and Laser may be a bit out of character but I think I did a pretty good job so read away you Laserbox fans

"Hey Sparks I'm back from my solo mission and I brought pizza," Laserblast said with a pizza box in one hand. "Thanks but we're kinda busy Laser," Silver Spark said. "What do you-She pointed up. The POINT building had the middle finger high up in the air. Okay that's kind of funny but DON'T laugh. This is serious, Laser thought. "Any guesses on who could've done this," Laser asked trying to keep a straight face. "No but Greyman's inside trying to fix the building," she said. "And what about the others," he asked. "The rest of the team is searching the area in case the villain is somewhere around here. I would've gone too but I wanted to make sure you made it back from your mission," Sparks said.

"Well we should start looking for the villain too. You go that way and I'll go this way," he said. "But shouldn't we stick together," Sparks asked. "What you don't think I can handle this on my own?" "I never said that I just think we'd be better together y'know," she said. "If we separate we can cover more ground," Laser argued. She sighed, "Yeah I guess that's true." "See ya in a few Sparks," Laser said kissing her cheek and running ahead.

Laser looked around and heard evil laughter coming from a bush? This was easier than I expected, he thought blasting the bush with a laser beam. The short figure yelped and jumped out from it's hiding spot. "Who did-a look of disgust crossed the villain's face-Of course it had to be some pretty boy hero," the man finished. "Oh yeah well-well your a pretty boy villain! You've got that super cool cyborg eye and a chicken hand...seriously how did you pull off something so amazing," Laser asked. The villain grinned at me, "Aww do you have a crush on wittle old me?" Laser's face burned from embarrassment, "I didn't mean-No I-from a biological standpoint that arm is impressive." "So your into me and your a biology nerd. How cute," he teased.

"W-who are you anyway," Laser asked dying to change topics. "Who I am," the shorter villain echoed, pulling out a remote and pressing the big red button. A flying desk swooped in out of nowhere and the man climbed onto it. "I am Lad Boxman now eat missiles you stupid hero," the villain said shooting missiles out of his desk.

Whoa how'd he turn a boring desk into something so cool, Laser thought as he jumped out of the way of the missiles. "I'm glad you asked," Lad Boxman said firing off more missiles. Cob did I really say that out loud, Laser thought while dodging the second round of missiles. "This desk is running on nuclear power and-We heard the explosions. Everything okay," Silver Sparks said with Rippy Roo and Foxtail right behind her.

"Don't interrupt me," Lad Boxman snapped switching from missiles to fish robots. "What are these things," Laser asked as he shot at them with lasers. "Who cares just smash them," Foxtail ordered. "Hey I spent a lot of time making them these Junk fish," Lad Boxman said sending more after the heroes. Junk fish huh? I wonder where he got the idea for robot fish. Wait why do I even care, Laser asked himself.

"Buh! Buh," Rippy Roo said. "Your right Rippy they do run on glorbs," Sparks said hitting one of the robots with a power fist. Glorbs are so hard to come by. How could he afford to waste them on these tin cans, Laser wondered. The sound of a Junk fish being smashed against the pavement snapped him out of his thoughts.

"You might've defeated my Junk fish but I don't care what you Point punks or anyone else thinks and one day I'll crush you all with my robots," Lad Boxman said flying away and laughing evilly. That was amazing...he was amazing! I have to know how he gets so many glorbs, Laser thought. "What a weirdo," Foxtail said. "Pur. Pur. Pur," Rippy said. "Yeah we should start cleaning up. Laser could you get a broom," Sparks asked. "Huh?" "We gotta clean up all this metal junk. Get a broom please," Sparks said. "Right, right I'll uhh go get that broom now," Laser said walking away. I have to see Boxman again. Villain or not I bet he can get me all the glorbs I need for my research but how could I convince him to help a hero like me and how do I even find the guy?

[artnerd1123]

A Familiar World

Cat’s Out of the Bag ——————————————

Roo and Journal get a little time to bond over something a little diffent- magic tricks!

The masterpost for AFW can be found here. The chapter post for AFW can be found here.

——————————————

its a cute lil chapter, laying more groundwork for the bois! it was super fun to revisit roo n have these two messin around ;w; hope y’all enjoy!

Getting settled in a new place was usually a temporary ordeal. You show up. You find a place to sleep and eat. You find something to do, or do what you came for. Then you pack up and leave, hitting the road to do it all over again somewhere else. That’s how Roo had been living since he was three. Once Aiden got the call to quest, the two had gone out to explore the world. Roo was nine now, so he’d had plenty of time on the road. And he liked travelling! He did! Especially since it was with Aiden. Even though the constant stream of new people could be scary, Aiden was always there for him. And they had a lot of fun on their trips. Laughing, picking spots to camp, picking quests, painting, goofing around… it was wonderful. It was a little strange to suddenly be anchored in one place again. That didn’t mean Roo disliked it! He loved it a lot. It felt like much too long since he’d had a place to truly call home. And he really, really hoped this one would stick.

But, like any new place, this one came with unfamiliar faces. One of which had taken up residence in their apartment. Roo didn’t quite know what to think of Journal, despite Aiden’s gentle reassurance. He seemed… secretive. Nervous. On edge. A little scared. Roo knew how that went. He also knew it was important to get along with the people you lived with. So when Aiden asked if he had any ideas of how to get on his good side, he was sure to start paying attention. Finding little details was Roo’s specialty- and it was often the little things that helped make a place into a home. His little sack of travel-found trinkets was evidence enough of that. The familiar was quick to suggest getting more coffee after he’d spotted their roommate chugging it. He pointed out the many books he glimpsed in Journal’s room, looking for some cool legend books the next time they were at the library. He whispered about the gleam in Journal’s eye whenever he spotted Aiden doing magic. He even managed to catch Journal dancing once. …. Granted, Journal didn’t realize he’d left his door ajar. Or that the cat was still home while Aiden was out. Or that he was being rather loud when he cursed his own fumbling feet. But still. Dancing was something they had common ground on!!! He’d stored all the information away carefully, sharing things with Aiden when he thought it could help. He was glad he did. When Journal finally started warming up, it felt as if the whole apartment sighed in relief. Journal talking with Aiden was doing wonders for easing the nervous tension. Especially after they talked magic for hours the other day! Aiden said the young sorcerer might show off some of his magic the day after. With so much radio silence in the past weeks, it made Roo grin. It seemed like everyone was really getting along. It was nice to see. If he could bring himself to do more than a timid smile and wave… maybe he could make friends with Journal, too. … If only he didn’t have such bad social anxiety.

~~~

The sun was high in the afternoon sky, casting beams across the living room floor. Normally, Roo would be lying out among them. There was nothing better than midday sun on his fur. It was perfectly warm and cozy… just what the little cat loved. However, he wasn’t alone in the living room. Ever since Journal and Aiden broke the ice, he’d been hanging around in one of the armchairs. Which wasn’t a problem! Everyone was allowed in the living room. It’s for living in, after all. It just… made Roo self conscious. Lying out in the middle of the floor felt weird if there was someone besides Aiden watching. Even if that someone was his roommate. For now, he was curled up under the couch, peeking out wistfully at the sunbathed floorboards. Maybe I can catch a nap in the sun when Aiden gets back from that fetch quest, he thought. I bet Journal’s gonna ask him about it… I can probably sneak out n’ snooze then... A sudden thunk across the room jerked Roo out of his thoughts. What was that??? He let out a little surprised ‘mrrp!’, curling up nervously as he looked for the source. His gaze eventually found Journal. He had a book in his lap. From the way he’d flopped against the armchair’s back, it seemed he’d just closed the book. Roo let his shoulders relax. O-oh, ok... The thump was jes a book... Of course, it was then he noticed Journal was looking at him. Roo’s face flushed, his ears flicking back against his head. Oh no- had he been too loud? Did he disturb Journal??? He hadn’t meant to! He hurriedly shuffled farther back under the couch, curling his tail tight around his body. Sure, being under the couch got him and his cloak all dusty, but it felt safe under there. A moment of silence reigned in the room. It was broken by Journal’s awkward cough. “Uh… so… Roo, was it…?” Journal said hesitantly. “Are you… still under there?” Roo shivered a little. Oh geez. He was gonna have to pop out there and talk, wasn’t he? Haltingly, the little cat crawled up to the edge of the couch. He didn’t come out- not yet, anyway- but he was close enough to be seen. Journal was giving him a curious look- he’d perked up when he caught sight of the little cat. He wasn’t annoyed or upset, just… curious. Ok. Roo could work with curious. “E-ehm… yeah… tha’s me…” he mewed softly. “D-did yeh need somethin…?” “Er- sort of?” Journal chuckled awkwardly. “I just kinda wanted to… check in, I guess? I mean, I’ve talked plenty to Aiden, but I feel like we haven’t. Y’know. Had much time to talk to each other.” “... oh…” Roo blinked. That was a simple enough request. He shrugged, shuffling his paws shyly among the dust bunnies. “I-I’m doin’ ok,” he mewed softly. “Jes, ehm, tryna settle in as best I can… n-nothin ah’m not used teh, ‘s jes… kinda weird with Aiden not around sometimes…” “I get that,” Journal nodded. “New place ‘n all that… ‘s weird when you don’t have many… uh... familair faces around...” Roo watched as the sorcerer flashed a smile- he didn’t miss the quiet tension behind it. He didn’t have much time to wonder if that was a pun, hinting at something deeper, or a simple statement of solidarity. Journal had his head tilted to the side, a movement the cat found himself mirroring. “So you two’ve been travelling around together for awhile, then?” Oh! More questions! Yes, ok, he could do those. “Y-yeah! We’ve been travellin’ since I turned three, so ‘s been… uh-” the familiar did a quick count in his head- “six? Six yeahs? Er- it’ll be seven this year!” “Oh- shoot, six years on the road? And questing the whole time?” Journal whistled. “That sounds kinda intense.” “I-it can be! But most of the time we’re jes hangin out ‘n explorin,” roo admitted, flashing a little smile. “I liked it when we’d jes find somewheah to settle for a lil ‘n enjoy the sights…” “Ah. yeah, fair enough. Exploring can be pretty cool,” Journal said. “Y-yeah…” Roo trailed off, fidgeting awkwardly. A beat of silence passed between them. Eventually, Journal cleared his throat. Roo glanced up timidly, afraid he’d missed something- but Journal was flashing a gentle smile. The sorcerer’s look was still a little uncertain. But his gaze was soft and friendly, and Roo’s anxiety quieted a bit. “Well, uh, Aiden was telling me you like magic tricks,” Journal said, “and I was wondering if you wanted to see some…?” Oh, that perked Roo right up. Magic tricks??? For him to watch??? He scooted a little farther out from under the couch, his floppy ears bouncing forward as his head popped out from the dusty underside. “Y-yeah! That’d be supeh cool!” he mewed, paws patting the floor eagerly. Journal beamed, clapping his hands together. “Alright! Let’s see what I can do,” he hummed. He put a hand on his chin, head tilted again as Roo watched on excitedly. Magic tricks!!! He’d been fascinated by those since he was just a little kitten. Contrary to what the name suggested, their allure had a lot to do with how they lacked any sort of magic at all! Just slight of hand, misdirection, and some playful manipulation. It was so so exciting and impressive to see in action! Journal reached over to the table beside him, picking up a banded deck of cards. He carefully slipped one out from under the leather band. Straightening up, he smoothed out his tunic, clearing his throat. When he looked to Roo again, his grin was back and plenty playful. “Aaaalright. So. This trick is pretty simple, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy it,” Journal said. Roo nodded quickly. His wide eyes practically sparkled with enthusiasm. He was sure he would too!!! Journal somberly held up the card with his thumb and forefinger. “Now. I need you to watch this card, ok?” “W-what’re yeh gonna do with it?” roo asked. “I’m gonna make this card fly all the way around the room and back in one second,” Journal replied, wiggling his fingers. “But it only works if you watch really close.” “I-I won’ take my eyes offa it, promise,” Roo nodded. “Good. Ok…” Journal bent his wrist towards his chest, the card still held tight in his fingers. He raised a brow at Roo. The smirk on his face was mischievous- it left roo even more excited to see what really happened. He was gonna watch the card like a hawk. “And… here… it… goes-!” With a quick flick of the wrist, Roo whipped his head around to follow the- Wait a minute. Where was the card??? The cat blinked in confusion. Maybe he’d missed it? But when he looked back at Journal, his hand was empty. Had it… worked??? He blinked, and suddenly- wait, the card was there now! “Hey!!! How’d the card get back?” roo gasped. “Oh, you didn’t see it?” Journal asked. There was a hint of teasing in his eyes, but not enough to make Roo too embarrassed. He shook his head shyly. “I can do it again if you’d like,” Journal offered. “Y-yes please,” Roo nodded. “Alright,” Journal replied. He got his hand ready again, and Roo locked his eyes onto it. He was gonna watch the card and he was gonna get it this time. “Heeeere iiiit… goes-!” Again, journal flicked his wrist, and again, Roo tried to follow the card- but- where did it go??? He mewed in displeasure, tail flicking under the couch. A look at Journal yielded nothing but concealed laughter. The whole thing repeated a few more times before Roo finally- finally- realized what must be going on. “Hang- hang on a minute-” Roo squeaked. He wiggled the rest of the way out from under the couch, skittering over to Journal’s side. With one paw, he carefully tipped up the hand he’d sworn Journal threw the card with- aha! “Yeh weren’t throwin it at all!!!” “Nnnnope. It’s been here the whole time,” Journal chuckled. “I was wondering how long it’d take you to catch it.” He looked quite amused with himself, even if he pulled back a bit from Roo’s touch. The cat felt his face flush, quailing under Journal’s gaze. Had he really run over here like that??? And pushed at his hands??? Ohhh geez. What if he’d overstepped a boundary??? He tugged at his cloak timidly while Journal flicked the card back into proper view. “I’ve had awhile to practice that one,” the sorcerer continued. He flashed another gentle smile. “I, uh, I think you caught on faster than some of my other audiences.” “Eheheh… I-I don’ blame em,” Roo said. “... How’d yeh get it under yeh hand like that anyway? Yeh move so fast, I didn’ even know it was hidden u-until now.” “Ah, therein lies the trick!” Journal hummed, holding up a finger. “It’s all about flicking your wrist! Here, let me show you-” He shifted carefully in his chair, bending down so he was more at Roo’s level. Roo felt some tension leave his shoulders at that. He risked a tiny step closer to see better. Journal didn’t seem to mind- even nodded a bit- so he scooted right up near his hands. His earlier eagerness was already trickling back as the two got settled in. “Ok, got a good view?” “Yea-huh!” “Alright, good. So- what you wanna do first is get a proper hold on it…” 

~~~

The sunbeams had long since crossed the floor and moved up the wall when the door’s creak announced Aiden’s presence. It took just a few seconds longer than normal for Roo to throw himself at his originator. He had to get his paws untangled from some string- Journal had been showing him yarn tricks. He cannonballed full force into Aiden’s leg, purring up a storm. “Aiden!!! I missed yeh!!!” He purred, rubbing his cheek against his pant leg. The questor chuckled, reaching down to scoop him into his arms. Roo promptly curled into him, purring even louder. “Well, I missed you too!” Aiden said. When Roo looked up, he was raising a brow, a curious smile on his face. “What’s got you all riled up?” “O-oh, er- well, Journal was jes showin me how teh do some magic tricks,” Roo explained. His tail wagged happily at the statement. “He knows so many- it was really fun!” “Ah, is that so?” Aiden smiled. “You two had an impromptu magic trick lesson?” The two looked over at the young sorcerer. Journal hadn’t moved from the couch, hands still tangled up in yarn. He looked down hastily when their gazes fell on him, scrambling to pull off strings and gather up a bunch of little props. Coins and cards disappeared into his pockets as he grabbed for words. “I- well, yeah, a little one,” Journal confessed sheepishly. “Nothing much was going on in the apartment, and I figured we could do something to. Uh. Pass the time. Y’know.” He tucked the string into his pocket. Roo was sorry to see it go. Maybe he could ask for some of it later… it was fun to play with. “Oh, there’s no need to clean up!” Aiden reassured him. “I’m curious to see some tricks for myself, if that’s alright with you two.” “... really?” Journal blinked. Ah. That was a look Roo knew well. At least, from the perspective of the one making it. Hesitant eagerness. Oh. He’s being shy. Nervous, even. Well. Roo knew what to do with that. He squirmed a little in Aiden’s arms, the questor instinctively letting him drop to the floor. He trotted over to Journal’s side, giving his sleeve a tug. The sorcerer gave him a quizzical look, but bent down to listen on instinct. Roo cupped a paw by his ear, voice low. “I-I think a lil review fer Aiden would be swell,” Roo said. “We had a lotta fun, a-an it would be cool teh give em a look, especially since yer real good at this kinda thing. Y’know… Like our own lil magic show?” When he pulled back, the bright shine in Journal’s eyes told him he’d done the trick. So he had remembered the sorcerer’s showman dreams right! Journal nodded, and Roo beamed right back. His paws flapped around as he spun in excited circles. “I suppose we could put on a little show,” Journal said, pulling out his props again. “Roo’s quite the fast learner.” “And you’eh a good teacheh,” Roo purred. “But!!! Aiden!!! Yeh gotta sit down first! C’mon, right heah-”

Laughter bounced off the walls as the little familiar led his originator over to an armchair. And- for the first time- Journal’s countryish chuckle joined them. Roo’s heart warmed at the sound. It looked like their roommate was finally coming out of his shell. And so, it seemed, was he.

[anystalker707]

Blood on my hands

🎃Halloween special Pairing: Frank x Reader Word counting: ~ 2 400 Genre: Terror, suspense, fluff TW: Terror, blood Summary: A cozy house in the woods. Being attacked by a beast you can’t see. And suddenly finding out your boyfriend is a vampire. a/n: I suck at horror, sorry bbs

"I'm calling it," Frank says in defeat, his bottom lip sticking out as he sends a few dry leaves flying with a kick. "We're lost in the woods." A sigh escapes his nose as he looks around, cold fingers poking out of his fingerless gloves and wrapping themselves around my hand. They're always cold.

"Well, no shit, Frank." I roll my eyes. "I literally said that five minutes ago, but you were worried, with..." I think for a moment, but I'm not sure about what he was doing, talking to himself while I looked around the endless trees, seeking for a clue to get us out of here. "...whatever."

"Aw, don't be like this, I found a nice thing!" He says in a soft whine, eyebrows furrowed; he stops to walk, reaching for something in his pocket then pulls out a heart-shaped rock. His lips stretch in a cute proud smile, "actually, it was something else that I had seen, but I found this and I was gonna give it to you, but you were walking away before I could notice," he says with certain frustration.

"Oh, look at you! You never let me stay mad at you," I mutter under my breath, my heart practically melting. Taking the rock in hand, I take a good look at it before shoving it in my pocket. "Idiot," I joke, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to his smiling lips. The giggle that comes from him makes me look at him with a stupid smile, shaking my head to myself before pulling him along with me to continue walking.

Dry leaves crack under our feet, practically the only sound in the place apart from the occasional breeze going through the leaves that remain in the trees and also makes us shiver. The dense clouds above us make it difficult to determine what time is it - something thankfully solved by our phones - and contributes with the cold air, though it doesn't penetrate through the heavy layers of clothes. Of course, we were worried about the rain, but the way the clouds are there since yesterday and not a single drop fell from the sky gave us some confidence.

Besides all, it feels like we're alone, but it also doesn't. Not to mention that, if we weren't actually alone, the sounds of the steps would easily be heard through the thick silence, with the ground being practically orange, almost completely covered in dry leaves. It makes me calmer.

All the walking almost makes me forget how we ended up here, but I remember what was it about it. We went for a walk to a specific place - a clearing we'd found days ago -, but I guess we took the wrong turn and, caught up in a conversation, only noticed it when we didn't even have phone signal anymore. It's not as bad as it sounds, the woods are just in the outskirts or the city. We found a trail at some point and here we are now, hoping it takes us to out of here. Though we've probably been walking for a couple of hours, the good point is that we left our house in the morning.

"I'm so tired of walking," Frank groans with a sigh, rubbing his face with his free hand. "We're getting nowhere. And I'm sure I've seen that tree-"

"Wait, that's a house, isn't it?" I raise an eyebrow, pointing to the place, interrupting Frank before he gives me another goddamn existential crisis. "There's probably someone in there," I tell him with a thoughtful hum, "like, window's open and all..." I trail off, tired. It seems like a fancy place, I bet someone probably wouldn't build this too deep into the woods. Or at least I hope so.

"Well, I guess," Frank shrugs, grabbing his phone and flipping it open, but just for a few seconds and then he's turning to me with a frustrated sigh. "Still no signal. Okay, so, whoever's in there will either help or kill us, so we better be prepared. I love you so much, so, if there's ever a situation that only allows one of us to run away..." He pauses, looking at me from under his eyelashes; as much as it sounds like he's going to say something sweet, I guess I know Frank enough. "...I'll miss you a lot, okay? Maybe I'll call the cops to come check on the place, so don't worry." His lips part in a proud grin, a chuckle escaping his lips once I snort.

"Okay, yeah, sure," I nod, rolling my eyes, "You're so lovely, Frank, best boyfriend," I tease, but quickly fall serious again, having thought about what he said. "No, but, really, what if they actually kill us or something? Like, horror movie thing? I'm pretty sure that in Texas Chainsaw Mass-"

"No, no, c'mon," Frank interrupts me, his eyebrows furrowing in a pleading expression as he holds onto my hand with both of his. "We could get some water or something, you've got no idea how fucking tired I am. We can hit them with whatever if they try to attack us."

"Y'know," a breath escapes my lips as I try ignoring the fear tight in my chest and let Frank drag me along with him. I mean, I'm really tired, but I prefer to sleep for two days straight instead of being killed. "Gerard's usually the one with bad ideas, but you're always pulling us to problems."

"Aw, no, trust me," he says with a pout, squeezing my hand, the rough fabric of his gloves somehow warm around my hand. "Trust me," he shoots me a look, pleading eyes observing me from under his eyelashes.

Not replying, I only let out a defeated sigh in response. I really want to stop and my throat aches for a drop of water. In the worst of the cases, at least I won't die alone.

It looks like practically any house we'd find in a rich neighborhood - modern styled two-story house, a lot of details in wood while the front wall of the second floor seems to be entirely made of glass, though it's not possible to see through it. It has a comfortable vibe, seeming to be a good place for spending the vacations in. All the windows in the first floor are open while there's just a single one open in the second one, with white curtains poking out of it, pulled by the wind when it hits stronger. The open door shows the furniture in light wood and a decoration that matches the aesthetic.

"Hello?" Frank asks after knocking on the door, though it's open. He's tense, me too - our hands tight around each other, both of us holding our breaths and standing completely still as waiting for a response, but the word is lost in an empty silence.

Slowly, he starts walking in the house, ignoring the glare I send him.

"It's not nice walking into someone's place like this," I say quietly as looking around, seeking for a signal of life in the house.

"Eh, we can just explain why we're doing this if they catch us." Frank's voice is louder than mine, but still quiet. Our steps sound impossibly loud against the wooden tiles. I don't answer.

The kitchen isn't much different from the rest of the house. Everything seems organized; the way the place is clean and a glass full of water sitting on the counter with two ice cubes inside it tell me there's really someone in the house, making a shiver run down my spine at the thought they'll probably be back soon to get the water.

"Here," Frank says, suddenly holding out a glass of water to me. Apparently, I zoned out for too long.

"Thank you," I mutter, exhaling and taking the glass in hand, shakily bringing it to my lips. Meanwhile, Frank looks around the place, sighing as he leans back against the counter. He looks from me to one of the stools across from him and points at it. With a nod, I sit up on it, thankful for giving my legs a break. The quietness is immersive, causing a great difference after so long with the breeze going past our ears or through the tree's leaves.

Frank's eyes go past me, probably looking at the doorway. Something catches his attention, but there's nothing when I turn around and to take a glance.

"What's up?" I ask in confusion, setting my empty glass beside me.

"Nothing..." He trails off. "Y'know, I'll... I'll go check if there's someone around, okay? I'll be right back." His lips press together in a smile and he kisses my cheek before moving to walk out of the room in weirdly slow and quiet steps. Odd. Something in his words and manners don't convince me, but I don't question it either, just trusting him.

He's gone for a few minutes; I check the time on my phone at least three times and I just can't wait anymore when ten minutes go by. I try calling for him, but there's no response - not even when I walk into the living room again. The same deadly silence of before is the only response I get.

I'm quiet for a moment, trying to listen or catch on a small detail that tells me Frank didn't simply disappear. The stairs seem weirdly threatening for some reason. But what if he's up there?

I'm about to take a step forward to climb the stairs when there's suddenly something grabbing onto my arms. Frank.

"Hey, I was-" I interrupt myself when I start being dragged behind and I freeze noticing it's not him, a shudder running down my spine. Though it feels like there are sharp, long fingers gripping around my arms, just below my shoulders, I can't see anything there when I look at it. And there's absolutely no one behind me either. No matter how I look around or try to look at the objects' reflex, there's absolutely nothing, but the grip's so strong that I can barely move as I'm dragged.

Where is it taking me to? What's even it?

The only result of all the questions, of all the confusing feelings is only a loud scream going past my lips before I can notice. At this point, the terror is probably bigger than the fear - I don't even fucking know what's doing this to me, I don't know what to wait for or what someone or something with this grip is capable of.

I can hear my name being called from upstairs, Frank's voice muffled, followed by heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.

And suddenly I'm alone again. Standing in the middle of the living room. My eyes are wide as I observe around the room. There's still this thick silence- And there's a muffled, loud thud.

Not even thinking, I start running upstairs, my heart stopping for a second at the sight of a red liquid coming from under one of the doors and, as bad as it can turn out, it's the exact door I go for, sweaty fingers wrapping themselves around the cold doorknob, afraid the worst happened.

Frank stands there. Calmly. An almost innocent look on his face as he looks around, intensifying when his gaze finds mine. Something completely normal. That if there wasn't blood everywhere less on him. Still, I weirdly calm down - or simply don't know how to react, my mind just giving up on keeping up with all the weird events and entering in a state of shock.

"Red syrup." Frank says with a smile, earning himself a look of disbelief from me.

"Is that really red syrup? Please tell me it's syrup." I say in a rushed tone, then pause. "I can't stand blood." A sick feeling bubbles in my stomach.

"Good thing it's everywhere," he chuckles, though he clearly holds more feelings than he dares to demonstrate, a visible tension or maybe nervousness noticeable by his tense shoulders. Why are his teeth stained red?

Averting my eyes from him, I look around the room. I don't know what's worse; the sight of blood everywhere, the lack of source, Frank having not a single hair strand out of place or maybe the I'm glad you are here written on the wall in black letters, a childish handwriting.

"So..." Frank trails off. "Let's get out of here," he looks away, cleaning his throat as approaching me in rushed steps, taking my hand and starting to pull me down the stairs with a firm grip.

I hadn't noticed it before, but there are a few mirrors hanging on the wall, by the stairs. Weirdly enough, I'm the only one I can see in it. It's not even scary, after everything.

"...So, when exactly were you going to tell me that you're a vampire?" I ask, my attention between going down the stairs and looking at the mirrors. Eventually, we stop, by the bottom of the stairs. there's a wider mirror hanging on the wall, right behind Frank. It looks like my hand's wrapped around nothing.

"Wh-what?!" Frank tenses up, eyes widening in the same moment. Some genuine surprise takes over his face. "What do you mean? Vampires aren't-"

"Frank, I'm looking straight in the mirror and you're not in it." My voice is calm. But what is there to freak out over anymore?

He's silent. Eyes flickering over me in seek for something, but he doesn't find it and he falls in disturbance.

"What attacked us?"

"Um, you better not know." Frank says nervously. There's a long pause, but I don't ask further about it. "I..." Frank exhales. "Let's get out of here, hm?" He presses his lips together, quickly starting to walk again. He sighs, glancing at me repeatedly as we walk, but I don't say anything.

"I know how to get us out of here now," he mutters, the silence of the house not so empty anymore.

We leave through the back door and, when we go past the kitchen, the glass with ice is there the same way. The cubes not any smaller.

[aro-of-artemis]

no grave can hold my body down (i'll crawl home to her)

A jukebox soulmate au where your missing stuff finds its way to your soulmate.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29147940

They say that there's someone who makes up the rest of your soul. That they're your perfect match and once you meet them, once you touch them, your wandering souls will be fused back together, whole and unbroken.

 Luke's not sure who they are. But honestly, he just wishes his shit would stop going permanently missing. You lose something and it's sucked through some kind of hole in space-time to be found by your soulmate. Luke would really like to have a conversation with whoever came up with this system cause it sucks.

 Cause he's a forgetful guy. His brain is always going a million miles an hour, with at least three different trains of thought chugging away and sometimes the tracks cross and there's a collision and all the passengers have to bail out and it's just a mess, okay? Keeping track of his stuff tends to fall by the wayside a little bit.

 It's how he lost his favourite beanie. And don't get him started on the number of individual socks that have just poofed themselves out of existence. He always has to have a box of new guitar picks handy because as soon as it's not in his hand or clamped between his teeth, it's as if it never existed. He just hopes his soulmate appreciates them.

 But it's a give and take. He'll reach into his pocket to find scrunchies, hair clips, endless bobby pins. Just generic stuff that tells him very little about who his soulmate is except that they probably have long hair. (Once, he found one long, dark hair curling around the folds of a scrunchie. He keeps it tucked between the pages of a notebook, stashed away on his bookshelf.)

 (And yeah: they. He's spent a lot of time thinking about this. He's had crushes on all sorts of people and their gender never really made a difference, but his introspection also leads to a solid black ring resting on the middle finger of his right hand.)

 One day, he opens his school bag to find a homework page that does not belong to him. He looks at it, front and back, scouring for a name, a hint, a clue, feeling a thing with feathers rise behind his ribs, reducing his lung capacity and making him draw in shallower breaths. But nothing. Just the slightly messy handwriting of someone who thinks faster than they can write. He sighs and stuffs it back in his bag, reluctantly retrieving his maths book. His frustrated sigh must have been audible because Reggie leans over from his own desk.

 "Hey, you all right, man?' His eyebrows are drawn up together, lines of concern creasing his face.

 "Yeah, yeah. Just soulmate stuff junking up my bag."

 It's not always junk, though. A bracelet turns up on his bedside table. He starts wearing it every day. He refuses to take it off, even to sleep. Sheet music to an unfamiliar song is found wedged between his records. This particular item makes his heart beat faster, his chest tingling and warm. Because they're a musician too. It makes sense, of course. No way his soulmate could not like music. It's basically Luke's entire soul (or half soul, he guesses). But the confirmation makes him feel both calmer and more anxious. He wants to meet this person.

 His favourite item to ever turn up is a photo. A woman and a little kid sit in a field, turned towards each other, faces pointed away from the camera. But he can see their smiles. He sleeps with it next to his face on the pillow the night he finds it because he doesn't want to look away. In the morning, he tucks it into the back of his song-writing journal where he keeps the rest of his heart.

 At 17, he and his best friends are on the precipice of being legends. As he pulls his guitar from the case, a long, striped scarf flutters to the ground, the kind someone might tie in their hair or loop around their wrist. He ties it around his bicep for good luck. It makes him feel like his soulmate is there, by his side, cheering him on.

 They meet a girl - Rose - who looks so familiar. Something about her smile. But he just can't quite put a finger on it. All he knows is that her presence is reassuring. Safe. He doesn't know her but he feels a tug in his chest that says family. The same tug he feels when he looks at Alex and Reggie and Bobby. (He's changed his mind, his half of his shared soul is made up of these three dorks and the music they make together.)

 And then he dies. As darkness closes in around him, he thinks I'm sorry, boys and I'll never get to meet them.

  ---

 "Flynn!" Julie whines. "I can't find my homework anywhere!"

 Flynn rolls her eyes. "Did you check your school bag?"

 "Yes," Julie bites out, not actually mad at Flynn, just at the situation.

 "Your desk?" A nod. "Your dad's car? Under your bed? Your locker?"

 Julie has to stop her. She knows from experience that Flynn'll just keep going. "Yes, it's not anywhere."

 Flynn shrugs nonchalantly, a smirk pulling the corner of her mouth. "Well, guess it's gone to your soulmate then."

 Julie groans loudly in frustration. She pulls her beanie (their beanie) down over her eyes and slumps back against her locker, trying desperately to not look like she's pouting but definitely pouting. Flynn just gives her an unimpressed look.

 Julie breathes out harshly through her nose and resigns herself to retrieving the schoolwork she does have from her locker.

 "Ugh, gross!" she exclaims, fishing a pair of boxers out from where they had appeared in the dark recesses of her locker.

 Flynn's snort turns into a full belly laugh as Julie holds them away from her body, arm extended as if she were holding hazardous waste.

 She chucks them back in and slams the door shut. "Come on, let's get to class."

 Flynn follows, tripping over herself as she continues to laugh her way down the hall.

 ---

 Julie isn't sure who her soulmate is or whether she knows them already. Of course, it's pretty rare to meet them in high school, but a girl can dream. Unfortunately, it seems that her soulmate is terrible at doing laundry because she'll often find individual socks lying on her bedroom floor and undies crumpled in the corner of her bathroom. The beanie that turns up is quickly added into regular rotation and if it isn't on her head, it's tucked into her bedside table. The muscle tank threw an interesting spanner in the works as it set her mind to imagining the kind of person who might wear something like that. (She might, maybe become a person who wears something like that. Occasionally. When the desire strikes her.)

 She's fairly certain that they're a musician. She's constantly finding half-written lyrics strewn around her room in the most atrocious handwriting seen outside of a doctor's office. The lyrics - those that are legible - are beautiful. Occasionally they'll be lyrics to a Trevor Wilson song, though, which is a bit weird but she assumes they must just be a big fan. She appreciates their good taste.

 Another hint is the guitar picks. She finds them everywhere: in her sock draw, between the pages of her school books, next to her toothbrush. One memorable time, she found a pick snarled in her hair. And all of them, every last one, are covered in tooth marks. As if her soulmate has a habit of chewing on their guitar picks. It's kinda gross. Even so, she collects them in a jar on her desk with the date she'd found them written on the back.

 ---

 The boys turn up and her life is turned right-side up. She tells them to stay out of her room. Constantly. Boundaries, she reminds them. Alex and Reggie get it, they can respect her personal space. But, Luke. She knows he goes in there because he keeps leaving his stuff everywhere.

 On this day she finds his flannel just draped across her bed, as if he's trying to irritate her. She snatches it up and storms down to the studio.

 "Luke!" she shouts as she enters the studio, ready to tear him a new one. "What have I told you about going in my roo-"

 She stops short because all three boys are ripping the place apart, looking for something. When he turns around to face her, she sees tears wetting his face that he quickly tries to swipe away. Her heart leaps into her throat.

 "Luke, what's wrong?" she tries to ask but is interrupted.

 "You found it!" His voice is a little watery but exuberant.

 "I -- what?" she shoots him a quizzical look.

 "My flannel. Well - my dad's flannel, but -" he cuts himself off, scrubbing his fist over his eyes.

 Julie scoffs a little, gently. "Yeah, dude. You left it in my room."

 His eyebrows furrow in that way of his.

 "No, I didn't."

 "Uh, yeah. You did."

 "I haven't been in your room."

 "Well, clearly you have," she says, shaking the flannel a little and holding it out to him.

 "Thanks," he says softly as he grabs it, still looking at it with a bewildered expression. But he shrugs it on and uses the sleeve to wipe away what remains of his tears.

 When Julie looks over at Reggie and Alex, they're exchanging a meaningful look that Julie can't quite read. When they notice her gaze, they both glance away, once again fascinated with the chairs on the ceiling.

 Huh.

 ---

  "Julie! Stop leaving your homework in my song-writing journal!"

 "I didn't put it there!"

 "Well who did, then?"

 The patented Reggie and Alex LookTM makes an appearance.

 ---

 "Hey! I used to have a beanie like that!"

 "Uhuh."

 "I did! It was my favourite until I lost it."

 Julie nods but doesn't look up from her homework.

 ---

 "Ew, gross, Luke! Why do guitarists chew on their picks?"

 He shrugs a little sheepishly. "It just helps me think. Besides, if I put it down it just kind of … disappears into the void." He gestures vaguely at the aforementioned void.

 "That's true," Reggie pipes up. "He's always got a back-up supply!"

 Alex scoffs a little. "Yeah, but he's the only guitarist I know who chews on his picks."

 "Well my soulmate chews on theirs," Julie puts in, "So Luke's not the only one."

 She hears the implement in question clatter to the piano. When she looks at Luke his eyes are wide and a little sad. None of them had really talked about soulmates. She's not sure about the implications that being dead has on finding a soulmate. None of them had found theirs before they died.

 Alex, however. He'd managed to literally run into his soulmate in ghost form, so who knows. She's not sure if there are any rules. Whether both parties have to be dead or if one can be alive.

 (If she's honest with herself, she's spent a fair amount of time thinking about this. Thinking about Luke. She pushes the thought away when it pops up cause it's not possible but it always creeps back in. But they can't even touch so it’s a moot point. That longed-for skin-to-skin contact that bridges the gap between souls remains elusive. The silly daydream of a love-struck girl.)

 ---

 "Julie," Flynn says worriedly as they sidle up to their lockers, "Where's your ring?"

 "My rin-" she lifts her right hand to her face and studies her empty middle finger with distraught consternation. The space where delicate twists of black metal usually sit is bare. "My ring! I - I'm sure I put it on this morning."

 "Yeah, I saw you wearing it," Flynn confirms, her eyebrows furrowing.

 Julie can feel a tide rising in her throat, swelling up behind her eyes, each crash of the sea battering against her ribcage in a heartbeat tattoo.

 A poof to her right interrupts her rising panic. She looks at Luke, eyes wide and watering.

 "Julie! I came to bri- What's wrong?" he cuts himself off when he notices her distress.

 "My ring is gone!" Her voice is tight, as if trapped in her throat.

 Flynn had cottoned on Luke's presence and had begun to move around to where he stands to prevent their peers from thinking Julie's well and truly gone off the deep end. (Julie thinks distantly how grateful she is for such a wonderful friend.)

 Bafflingly, a bright smile splits Luke's face. "This ring?" And pinched between his pointer finger and thumb is Julie's ring.

 Julie's entire body visibly relaxes and it's as if her spine contracts a couple inches, muscles no longer held taut by emotion, the tide pulls out.

 "Where did you find that?" Her voice is practically a whisper now, adrenaline having sapped all energy.

 Luke shrugs nonchalantly. "It was in my pick container for some reason."

 Creases form on Julie's face but she gratefully receives the piece of jewellery. She slips it into its rightful place and when she looks up she realises Luke's eyes have gone wide. Her eyebrows pull up into a question.

 "You -- no, sorry, nevermind." He shakes his head and takes a step back. Julie moves forward a step. Flynn glances around to make sure no one is watching.

 "No, Luke, it's okay. What's wrong?"

 He shakes his head again, eyebrows drawing together and the hint of a smile on his lips. Instead of answering, he reaches his right palm out to touch hers, letting their rings knock together.

 "Oh," Julie breathes. She's not sure how she'd missed it before. Maybe just that it had blended in with all his other rings.

 "Yeah," he says, bashful, "Oh."

 Julie smiles at him and he smiles right back.

 ---

 The Orpheum happens. And the boys are clinging to the last shreds of themselves and she's crying out Go, save yourselves.

 But No music is worth making, Julie, if we're not making it with you.

 And she hugs him. And she can feel him. The places their skin meet spark with some cosmic electricity but there's no time to dwell on it because she has to save Alex and Reggie too.

 It isn't until later, when Reggie exclaims, "Hey, what's that on your back?"

 She twists around, glimpsing the shape of a hand darkening the skin of her lower back. Her head whips around to look at Luke and she notices. "Luke, your shoulder!"

 One hand flies up to his left shoulder, tracing over the darkened patch where Julie's palm had first rested against his skin. Their eyes lock.

 "You're-"

 "We're-"

 She's not sure who's making which language-adjacent sound.

 Alex is looking back and forth between them, a grin pulling across his face while Reggie's mouth hangs open in realisation. But they stay quiet. The see, told you so's will be saved for later.

 Julie starts moving, crossing the room towards Luke. Luke seems to shake out of a stupor, surging towards her as well. They meet in the middle, her arms once again wrapping around his neck in a replay of their earlier embrace. His hands find their spot on her back.

 "It's you, it's really you - " she's babbling. She continues to babble. Luke moves a hand up to smooth back her hair and gently places his lips against her forehead, finally causing her tongue to cease. The touch is so painfully tender it feels like a branding iron against her skin. They stay there for a century or so, just rocking to an inaudible beat, clinging to one another.

 Finally, Luke tucks his chin so that he can rest their foreheads together, breathing the same air.

 "You're amazing, Julie Molina. I would die a thousand times to find you."

 She nods, unable to form words cause, yeah, so would she.

 They pull back and her eyes slide over left arm, landing on the scarf tied there. "My scarf!" She tugs on it a little.

 Luke chuckles, sliding his palm along her jaw. Realisation crosses his face. "Oh, that is my beanie."

 His head whips up and around when loud guffaws break past stifling hands. Alex and Reggie have dissolved into borderline hysterics. He looks back at Julie whose eyes fill with shared mirth. A laugh bubbles up in his own chest, spilling over and out of his mouth.

 And finally, surrounded by Alex and Reggie and Julie, his soul is complete.

[hamiltalian-creates]

Wine Mom Dadceit, Pt 2

Summary: Janus takes his disaster children to the park. Two of them nearly attempt murder and the third meets a new crush friend. 

Pairings: Virgil x Remy, past Janus x Patton

Words: 2,080

Warnings: Misgendering / Attempted deadnaming (They don’t know his actual deadname)

As they pulled up to the house, Janus began setting out the rules for the quick stop.

“Both of you wear what you want to wear to the park and then wait for me in the living room. I’m going to be cleaning up the drinks that I was planning on enjoying earlier and mourning my hot bath.”

“You know, you can take hot baths during the week,” Virgil pointed out. “I mean, you do work from home a lot, aren’t you always saying that nobody can stop you from doing what you want when you work at home?”

Janus sighed and walked with the two boys into the house. “Virgil. The point of the hot bath is to relax away the stresses of the week. How can I do that if I’m working?”

Virgil turned to face him, staring his father dead in the eyes. “Dad, I love you, but if anybody else asks me why I’m so dramatic, I’m going to start writing these kinds of things down to quote back to them.”

“When you’re older, you will understand the importance of self care.” Sure, Janus made sure they knew the value of doing regular self care, but it wasn’t the same as doing self care regimens that were as extra as his own. “You’re going to look back at this conversation one day and realize that I know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Virgil shrugged and walked off, not very sure that he believed that as he went to his room, Remus darting to do the same.

Janus sighed and went to the bathroom, grabbing his water bottle on the way and pouring the drinks into it. They didn’t quite fill the water bottle all the way, so Janus filled the rest of it with orange juice and finished cleaning up the day that he’d previously planned, finding both Remus and Virgil waiting for him once he was done.

“Do I really have to go?” Virgil asked. “I will go back to dad’s and be on my best behavior.”

“Yes, you have to go. It’ll be good for you to go outside for once.” He grabbed his parasol and Remus’s leash, just in case. “Come on, Remus isn’t complaining.”

“Remus doesn’t mind human contact!”

“I want to climb the swing sets!” Remus said, running over to cling onto Janus’s legs. “And the kids are all stinky!”

Janus peeled him off. “No, you’re in trouble. If you so much as think about putting spiders in someone’s hair, it’s the leash for you.”

Remus pouted and followed him as they all walked outside and drove down to the park.

The second that they got there, Remus hopped out of the car and ran to the nearest playground, Janus sighing as he watched. “Well... At least the car was parked this time.”

“I can literally just stay in here the whole time,” Virgil said. “Please.”

“Nope. We’re just going to walk around, you can wear your hoodie, god forbid I make you expose your whole arms to everyone.”

Virgil huffed and got out of the car with Janus, pulling up his hood as he join his dad under the parasol.

“Virgil, I respect that you want nobody to recognize you ever, but aren’t you a little hot in that?..”

“I wouldn’t be if you’d let me stay home.”

Janus rolled his eyes. “I want you to learn a lesson about what happens when you tape children to walls, but I don’t want you to overheat.” Even Janus had switched out his usual long sleeved button up for a t-shirt. It wasn’t particularly hot, but Virgil wasn’t particularly used to being anywhere without air conditioning.

“Fine... I’m going to leave my hoodie in the car, only because my shirt has long sleeves.” Virgil went and sat in the car as he took off his hoodie, glad that this particular purple shirt wasn’t too worn out.

“Isn’t that a little better?” Janus asked as Virgil joined him back under the parasol.

“No.”

Janus tutted. “You’re such a drama queen.”

Virgil shrugged and messed with his fidget cube as they began walking around. “Yeah, I get it from you.”

Janus smiled a bit as they walked. He didn’t particularly like forcing Virgil out of his comfort zone like that, but the poor kid had had a hard time making friends his own age, so it was pretty rare that he went anywhere that wasn’t school. It was tough to get him out during the week, so on the weekends where he took them back early, he made sure to take advantage of it.

About fifteen minutes into their time at the park, Janus was approached by one of the PTA moms from Virgil’s school.

“Oh my goodness, hi! It’s funny running into you two here. You’re the last people I’d expect to see out here, knowing Virgie,” she joked.

Janus faked a smile. He always at least attempted to be civil with any moms he didn’t already have beef with. “Virgil doesn’t do that well in social settings, I know I’ve said it time and time again. I just thought this would be quiet enough.”

“Well, where’s that other kid of yours? He’s always so.. Upbeat at the PTA meetings.”

Janus looked over at the playground where he last saw Remus and saw him running around like a normal kid. “He’s over there, just playing around.”

She looked over and nodded. “It’s good to make him get out all of that energy from time to time, isn’t it?”

“If it’s too much to handle, I guess that would be the best course of action, wouldn’t it?”  

She laughed, though it was pretty clear that she caught onto his passive aggression. “That reminds me, we haven’t seen dear Patty in a while. All of us other PTA moms have to look out for one another, after all.”

That was it. That was the last straw. “Virgil, why don’t you go sit with your brother? I think the two of us have a bit of catching up to do.” He pulled the beanie off of his head and gave it to Virgil, knowing that his son would be too nervous to draw attention with the parasol.

Virgil did not hesitate to take the beanie and leave. As much as he wanted to see his dad fuck someone up, he did not want to be in the direct path of any spilled blood. So, he went over to the playground Remus was at, playing with his fidget cube to distract himself.

Unfortunately, having his face down meant that he couldn’t see a basketball shooting straight for his face until someone caught it, inches from his nose.

“Woah, that was trippy. I mean, I, like, never can catch anything like that.”

Virgil glanced up, his face as pale as a ghost as he realized what had just happened. He almost just got hit in the face by a basketball and this unfortunately cute boy his age just saved him.

“Woah, holy eyeshadow.”

Okay, Virgil had seen enough. He was ready to die.

“I mean, that is an intense look and I’m kind of digging it,” he said as he threw the ball back towards the court. “Now that my jock phase is over, can I get a name? I’m Remy.”

As much as Virgil wanted to quietly walk away, this guy did save his face. “Thank you... I guess since you helped me, I’m Virgil..”

“Virgil, that’s a cute name. What’s a little vampire prince like you doing out here?”

Virgil laughed awkwardly. “I’m just here with my family, I guess...”

“You guess?” Remy asked, pulling off his sunglasses. “That’s a weird thing not to be sure about.”

Virgil shrugged and glanced over at the playground where Remus was at, trying to find him. “It wasn't my choice.. My brother likes it here better than-” Virgil cut himself off as he saw a kid knock Remus off of the playground, feeling himself fill up with rage. “Hey!” He immediately ran over and helped his brother off of the ground, clenching his jaw as he saw some scrapes on Remus’s face.

“It didn’t even hurt!” Remus insisted, though the way he was tearing up said otherwise.

Virgil looked up at the kid who’d knocked him down and glared. “You fucking brat,” he spat out venomously before turning his attention back to Remus. “What happened?” he asked much more softly.

“I told him I had three dads and he pushed me like a coward,” Remus explained through his tears.

“Fucking hell...” Virgil grumbled under his breath. “Come on, let’s go get dad.”  

“No, I’m fine!” Remus kept insisting, wiping his eyes. “Just let me get him back, I’m fine.”

“No, Remus... If I let you keep running around, dad is going to get mad at us both.”

“Hey, is he okay?” Remy asked as he walked up behind Virgil.

“I just have battle scars! I can fight that other guy!” Remus insisted. “I’m fine!”

Remy laughed and knelt down beside the two of them, pulling out a box of band-aids. “I’m, like, a serious clutz, so I carry these around all the time. Do you mind?” he asked Virgil.

“I.. Um... I mean...” Virgil was back to his normal, disaster gay self now that his initial anger wore off.

“I want a band-aid!” Remus said.

Remy smiled and gave Virgil a look, making sure it was okay with him.

Virgil just nodded.

“Well, I don’t see why you can’t have one,” Remy said as he pulled out a band-aid and put it on Remus’s face.

Virgil almost fainted as he noticed that it was a rainbow band-aid.

“Hey, it’s like the flag in Virgil’s roo-”

“Weren’t you going to go torment a child?”

Remus grinned widely as he got permission to do as he please and ran off, chasing down the kid.

“Pfft.. Kids, right?..” Virgil asked, trying to brush it off.

“Oh, I already knew you were gay,” Remy said matter-of-factly. “I saw you walking under a parasol.”

“That was my dad’s idea,” Virgil quickly insisted. “I mean.. Yeah, I’m gay...”

Remy smiled. “Knew it. Anyways, a little information about me: I’m gay, I have band-aids, I’m new in town.”

Virgil couldn’t stop himself from laughing at that. “John Mulaney..”

“It never fails,” Remy said, shrugging.

“What never fails?” Remus asked as he popped up behind them.

Virgil jumped and turned to face him, ignoring the handful of hair hanging out of his pocket. “How long have you been standing there?”

Remus shrugged. “We should go home before that kid’s mom sees that I took his hair.”

Virgil glanced between him and Remy and Remus seemed to catch on quickly.

“Ooh! He’s a homosexual and Virgil’s the homo!”

“Remus!”

Remy quickly stepped in, though this time, it was his turn to start blushing. “So, my brother probably knows that I’ve escaped my grounding by now, do you have a phone number that I can get for my trouble?”

“Uh- Yeah! I mean...” Virgil searched his pockets. “Yeah, but I left my phone in the car...” He checked his back pockets and found his eyeliner pencil. “Would this work for you?..”

“Yeah!” Remy gladly rolled up his jacket sleeve. “Mark me up.”

Virgil nodded and moved to grab Remy’s arm, hesitating as he realized it meant direct physical contact, which he wasn’t too sure that he was ready for.

“Come on, I don’t bite. I, uh.. I kind of feel like that’s your brother’s job.”

Remus smiled proudly.

“Right, yeah, I know that,” Virgil said awkwardly. As quickly as he could without making it seem like he was trying to get away from Remy, he grabbed his arm and wrote his phone number down.

“Great! I’ll text you later if my bro doesn’t chew my head off. I just seriously needed to get outside after all that unpacking.” He got up and grabbed his box of band-aids again, giving a few more to Remus. “You do you, little buddy.”

“Thank you!” Remus took them and immediately began putting them on random spots on his arms and legs.

Remy chuckled and looked back at Virgil one more time. “I’ll talk to you later..”

Virgil nodded and watched as he walked off, thankful that Remus wasn’t making the obvious joke.

Instead, his brother sat down beside him and let him be gay in peace.

Unfortunately, his father didn’t get the memo.

[ofravensandgenesis]

Meme Tag Games!

Thank you for all the lovely tags!! :D <3 This is quite belated but between some health happenings, the weather deciding to turn the thermostat way up (and the house AC went out), and other stuff, I got swamped for a while there. Here we are now though! :D Tagging anyone who wants to jump in on any of these, namely FC5 GFH tag game; OC Fighting Style; and WIP Day. Continued below the cut because this got long:

FC5 Guns For Hire Meme Game

Tagged by @chyrstis​ and @amistrio​ for the FC5 GFH meme, thank you for the tag!! :D <3 We have full length responses with some banter with the human GFH in particular here. I was kind of stumped with how to answer this for Joshua in what he might say as a GFH since his verse is very tailored for him being the Deputy and all the psychic shenanigans. Eventually I got over that and this is basically an AU where there’s another (unnamed here) Deputy who IS slated to be The Deputy that Joshua is trying to help (and convince to do less murder) to explain how he fits into a verse as a Gun For Hire. Psychic shenanigans still happen in this AU of an AU ofc, just it’s perhaps less prominent. We’re skipping over possible musings of relevant sidequests for Joshua relating to the Seeds in this for the sake of time, though I acknowledge that it’s something to explore, likely would impact the endgame with the Heralds, cult, and Joseph depending on the Deputy’s choices of doing a Kill or No-kill run. This verse also assumes that Joshua, the Deputy, Whitehorse, Pratt, and Hudson all got away or were not present for the helicopter crash. Other characters minor and otherwise who are alive in Joshua’s main fic verse ACABH are the same as in that story thus far, such as Rae-Rae and Ryan being alive. We’ll also presume the Seeds are all still alive at the time of these dialogue lines.

Deputy Joshua Raguel Rook

(All images used were public domain and/or labeled free for reuse under creative commons license. Above image was sourced from [here.]) With Fangs for Hire

Boomer: “Hey there boy, how’re you feeling today? Got some venison strips saved for you, you eating enough with all this running around?” [cue more small talk and praise for Boomer about how Boomer’s doing such a good job and Joshua feeding Boomer bits of cooked meat. Will likely sing snatches of cheery dog-themed songs he’s heard when in the party with Boomer and there’s no enemies nearby.]

Peaches: “...I hope that’s not people-meat in your teeth, Peaches, you know how Miss Mable feels about that, it’s bad for your health. I’m also not quite brave enough to want to brush your teeth—though maybe Dr. Lindsey or Wade can offer advice on that. We’ll get you some nice fish instead, that’s a good kitty.” [He’s a bit more shy around Peaches than Boomer bc cougar, but an effort at friendliness will be made.]

Cheeseburger: “...that is one big bear. He’s a sweetheart though. Just...hoping he doesn’t make a mistake of who he’s barreling into. It’s not like we’re wearing team colors or anything.” [Cheeseburger is a sweetie and Joshua likes him, but also: bear. Joshua’s a bit wary around him, but will still feed Cheeseburger salmon when able. May crack a joke paralleling Cheeseburger going “Only You Can Prevent Cult Gun Fire.” Will not crack this joke after any Jacob-region events though.]

With Other Guns for Hire:

Sharky

Sharky: So amibro, I was thinking, you know how those Angels are all dead in the head and stuff? How are they still shuffling around, is the Bliss like a zombie plant or something? Joshua: ...no, that’s more in line with the aliens that Larry keeps going on about I’m sure. Something about brainmelting and bendy straws, I got lost when he started mentioning Navier-Stokes equations for how the...resulting brain juice would be redirected. [Shuddery noise of disgust.] I’m not sure if he’s serious or just fucking with me and referencing Guy’s zombie movie series at this point. Could be either or. The Bliss is more like...like...uh. Like if you lost the keys to your car, but the car’s your body. You get me? Sharky: Damn, remind me never to OD on the stuff, I lose the keys to my car all the time. Sometimes I can’t be bothered to find em and just jiggle the lock so I can hop on in to hotwire the car because I’m in a hurry, you know? Ladies love a man who’s good with his hands, and who’s good with time and can improvise. You think that’d work on the Bliss car keys? Joshua: Maybe? Not everyone seems to be as readily lost to the Bliss at the same amounts. Personally I’d wager you’d be able to find your way back to your body no matter where you were in the bliss if we stood you near a signal fire. Sharky: This is why we’re friends man! Ride or die! ...also can you help me find my keys with that trick of yours, I lost ‘em again. Joshua: Yeah, though did you check under your bed? Also, maybe hang your regular set and a spare set of keys on a hook by the door so you can always find them, just in case you’re in a hurry.

Hurk

Joshua: Hurk. [Said in a Mild, Judgmental Voice of Impending Doom From A Friend kind of tone.] Hurk: Hey man I didn’t do nothin’ to deserve that tone of voice now don’t you start on me. Joshua: How can you say that when you and Sharky went and invented zipline grenade-golf without me last night? And blew up part of the mini-YES-sign. Hurk: Oh man you were talking up Lindsey and with the way the two of you were smiling and laughing, we figured you might be getting lucky so like the proper supportive wingmen me and Sharky were, we left you gentlemen some of our finest booze and sticky green. You did find it didn’t you, I’d hate to waste the gifts of the beneficent Monkey God from above as He Who Likes To Par-tay Above And Here Below On This Earth did command me never to waste beer or the good kush and to always help a brother out who’s trying to hook it up with their fine persons of choice. Joshua: Hurk I’m not— [sighs in accepting and fond exasperation.] It’s not like that with me and Charles— Hurk: Ooooooooooooo, you’re on a first name basis already! I knew you had it in you! Get it man, get it good! I’m not into that, you know I like the ladies strictly, but I will support your endeavors no matter the sex of your fellow party-goer as leader of Hurk Gate and the Bro-iest of Bros. Joshua: Hurk oh my god, I’m not trying to sleep with or romance him. I’m—he’s not looking for that, at least not with me certainly, and I—...just, thanks. I still have most of the beer and weed leftover if you and Sharky are up for graffiting one of John’s billboard signs though. You in? Hurk: Hell yeah man, and oo, you did get some then, Josh you sly dog! Joshua: I DID NOT! [Meta-clarification: Joshua indeed did not, for reasons to be revealed at a later time in the main fic.]

Sharky, Hurk, and Joshua, if one bends the mechanics so they are all in the party together at the same time:

Sharky: Pfhahahahaha oh man did you see the look on those Peggies’s faces when we came just crashing down the mountainside in that burning car? It was priceless!

Joshua: What better way to set fire to mass amounts of Bliss fields than with a moving fireball? Sharky: I know man it was great! We didn’t get too singed or nothin’! We gotta try that burning trash-ball idea next time though, like building a snowman but with fire! A fireman! Ha! That was the easiest fifty bucks of my life, cuz. Joshua: Hold up a tick now, what. Hurk: Sharky man that’s against the betting code! You’re not supposed to tell! Joshua: Oh, you cheeky bastards were betting on if Sharky could convince me to drive the car down the hill, weren’t you. Hurk: Man it’s always a crap shoot with you, specially around cars. That’s what makes it fun, sometimes you get all “guys that’s not safe,” [said with a poor imitation of Joshua’s voice complete with a very terrible southern, Georgian-style accent before Hurk switches to his normal speaking voice to continue,] —and other times it’s just “hold my beer.” You’re not going to go all prim and proper on us now are ya? Joshua: I can’t believe you two. Gambling in Hope County, I’m shocked, shocked. Sharky you owe me half, I’ll buy you a beer first round. Sharky: Hell yeah man! Hurk: Wait a second did you two just con me? I’ve been robbed! Police! Joshua: Hurk I *am* the police, one of them present at least. Hurk: Oh shit son, you right. Help I’m being oppressed by the system!

Nick Rye

[This conversation happens after Seed Ranch has been taken, along with the AU detail of capturing John’s plane Affirmation at the same time, preferably early on, while John is still alive.] Nick: Hey Joshua I was talking to Sharky— Joshua: Oh no. Nick: And he had an idea that wasn’t half bad. Not a good one, and you’d be liable to get killed or captured, but I got stuck thinking on it and wanted to ask: What d’you think would happen if you dressed up like the Father and just pulled a whole Mission: Impossible face-a-roo switch? You can do that imitation of how he speaks and everything, I’ve heard you do it before. And with how high the Peggies are most of the time, they’re so far out of their gourds they wouldn’t notice the differences. Joshua: You mean aside from his brothers and sister noticing he’s suddenly an inch shorter, twenty years younger and the wrong brand of crazy? Nick: Just go off about there being an edit to God’s Plan or something, and you could get makeup or something going on with that age thing. People do all kinds of wizardry with foundation and stuff, though you’d have to ask someone else on that. Maybe Addie or someone she knows? I don’t know if they have aging-up tricks compared to aging-down though. It could work! Might be a quick way to end the fighting if we can just stuff Joseph into a car trunk and then stash him in a bunker somewhere while you’re pretending you’re him. Joshua: Nick my tattoos are different and I’m not going to convince people I’m Joseph if I have to do one of his shirtless walkarounds, NOR am I having sins and Bible verses carved into my hide to complete the look. I don’t think we have any special effects or make up artists in the county who specialize in convincingly fake scars made out of latex or something. Nick: I don’t know, that Guy Marvel might have someone. Or, had someone. He has to be able to afford all those special effects somehow. Joshua: I’m not going anywhere near that guy with a ten foot pole man, he weirds me out. Also consider: I’d have to talk to Jacob, John and Faith as Joseph. I don’t want that kind of responsibility of herding that conversation at the family dinner. Nick: Hoo, good point. So...how is that family bullshit coming along then? Joshua: I have no idea, I’m just winging it, like you are. Nick: [who’s currently flying a plane, thus the slight pun] Heh. Good luck with that then, and let me know if you want me to paint something special on John’s precious little Affirmation next time you take it out for a spin to spite him. Joshua: I’m sure I can think of a thing or two.

Adelaide

Adelaide: Honey you need to take a breather one of these days and just take a load off, if you keep up the way you’re going you’re going to end up looking more like your dad sooner rather than later. You should swing by the Marina sometime and have a yoga session with Xander, really helps get the blood pumping and limber you up if you know what I’m saying. Joshua: [Snorts in amusement.] Is Xander trying to convince you to eat more kale chips instead of potato chips again? Adelaide: Rook sweetie, I love Xander but there are some things a woman won’t put in her mouth, and kale chips are one of them. Joshua: I’ll swing by sometime to help out with the kale chips then, and maybe get in a yoga session at the same time. It’s been a while since I chatted Xander up what with the county going pearshaped. Adelaide: I’ll never understand how you two can eat those things. Ugh. Gives me the willies. Joshua: *I* eat them dipped in homemade spicy nacho cheese sauce. I have no idea how Xander eats them straight and still claims to have working tastebuds.

Grace

[For context: This conversation is based on the AU’s detail that Grace’s father has survived the previous attempt on his life prior to the start of the Reaping.]

Joshua: Did you crack open the extra care packages we dropped off yet Grace, or did your dad get to ‘em first? Grace: You referring to the chocolate bars you stashed in there? I got my share of them out in time. Joshua: Good, I was a little worried when you told me they were missing last time. Thought they might’ve been lifted without me knowing beforehand. Grace: He’s a sly one when sweets are up for grabs. Now if you can do something about the shortage of decent coffee… Joshua: What’s that? A reason to piss John off today and raid his personal stash? Say no more!

Jess

Jess: So. Joshua: So. Jess: Just like old times but with more fucked up cultist family bullshit than before, huh. Joshua: [Sighs.] Yeah. Jess: That’s rough, buddy. Joshua: Least I can steal shit en masse from the cultists and no one else minds right now. For the life of me though I can’t figure out where all of the snacks from Lorna’s went when the Peggies hit her place. I think they ate ‘em all. Jess: [Noise of disgust.] Those two-faced fuckers going on and on about how bad commercially produced food is and how everyone should get back to basics, but there they go snatching up all the frosted cakes and maple bars like it's baby’s first shoplifting spree. Joshua: I know right? Even if they do believe the end of the world’s coming, that’s still rude to clean the store out on the first go around—leave some snacks for the next bunch of looters, god damn.

In Combat

[Note: due to Joshua’s verse details, this comes with the assumption that were one to play in a version of his universe, the Deputy would have a kill/spare mechanic and thus also an option of doing a No Kill run and variations on that spectrum, which Joshua’s mechanics would support more so. This would likely also mean some additional options for the other guns-for-hire and creative use of their canonical loadouts and abilities. Joshua’s setup would overlap with Boomer and Jess’s via the Spotter and Concealment abilities, and he’d be equipped with a bliss dart gun and a scoped hunting rifle. Also melee options and such.] Seeing/tagging an enemy: “Hey look, another whack-a-mole.” / ”Fashionably challenged mountain-man zealot sighted.” / “Enemy sighted.” Seeing/tagging multiple enemies at once: “duck, duck, cultists.”/ “The Rapture called, they don’t want these Peggies back.” / “multiple hostiles in the area.” Bliss darting/knocking out a Peggie at range: “Nap time.” / “Another one bites the dust.” / “Down they go!” / “A little dirt nap never hurt any Peggie. Won’t hurt their outfits any either, a little dirt brown looks better than all of that mayonnaise-white so many of them wear anyway.” Knocking out a Peggie with a non-lethal stealth takedown: “Lights out.” / “Rang this one’s chimes hard enough he’ll think it’s time for morning service on a sunday when he wakes up.” / “Sleep tight.” / “She’s/he’s down.” Sneaking: “Feels like a tuesday.”  / “...” / “Five bucks says I can pickpocket the guards and they’d never even know till later.” / “Moving position.” / “Good to go.” Upon witnessing the Deputy killing an enemy: “Was that really necessary?!” / “...shit.” / “Maybe we should disengage and drop back out of sight instead of this.” / “What the fuck!” Reviving an ally/The Deputy: “Don’t you go dying on me! Stay alive, you’ve got so much to live for!” / “Come on, let’s get you patched up, you’re gonna be okay!” / “No no no! Don’t you dare die! Not today!” Hurt: “MOTHERFUCKER!” / “Ow!” / “God damn it, I just patched this shirt! And myself!” / “This is NOT my fucking element, fuck!” / “Why are we even in a situation where we’d get shot at?!” Downed: “Could use a little help over here!” / “Bleeding out, help!” / “...mom?”

Driving

When asked to drive: “...you sure? I really think someone else driving would be a better idea under current circumstances, but okay. Just don’t go making a habit out of this. Please. For everyone’s sake.” / “No.” [This is followed by outright refusal to sit in the driver’s seat.] / [Optionally if Sharky and/or Hurk are around] “Ugh. Just...gotta pretend this is driving through a Clutch Nixon. With live gun fire, instead of just fire-fire.”

When the Deputy/someone else is driving recklessly: “Iwantoffthisride” / “I’m going to have to pick upholstery out from under my nails later.” / “JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL.” / [Recites a Hail Mary.] / “Having a good time! NOT.” / [If it’s Sharky or Hurk driving] “This is the kind of reckless driving I can get behind. Through regular past exposure therapy.” Changing radio stations: [If it’s being changed to Eden’s Gate stations] “Can we not? I’ve heard this music so many times it’s old as hell, however catchy.” / “They did do a good job on the music, I gotta say. More ominous meaning to the lyrics right now in particular though.” / [If it’s being changed to Resistance Radio stations] “Road trip time! Watch out for moose in the road.” / “Hell yeah, crank those tunes!” / “I’m glad we have regular music to listen to still, it’d be such a drag to have to go without it.”

Idle

- [General] “What’s up? Everything going alright with you?” - [General] “I heard of a good fishing spot where the rainbow trout [or other game fish depending on situation/mechanics] are really biting today if you want to take a breather and just do a bit of fishing.” [this dialogue only triggers if the Deputy hasn’t filled out the map yet for fishing spots, and adds one to the map with a notification.] - [General] “Hey, there’s a prepper stash over yonder, if you want to try your hand at getting at it. [This dialogue only triggers at random if the Deputy hasn’t polished off all the nearby Prepper stashes already. Marks a nearby prepper stash on the map and gives a notification.]

- [General] “You know what surprises me? That the Project didn’t try to shut off the power plant to at least portions of the county. Sure lots of people are preppers or woodsmen and such, but electricity makes everything easier for us. Weird, ain’t it? They have the technicians for it I’m sure. Guess we should thank our lucky stars they either didn’t think of that or decided it wasn’t worth it. We’d be straight out of ice cold beer then, Whitehorse would hate that.” - [If the Deputy is taking the no-kill route] “Hey I just want to say...I appreciate you trying not to kill people, even if some of these cultists are absolute motherfuckers who deserve it. We might be able to stop all their prophecy crap dead in its tracks if you keep this up. And...you know. Thanks for not killing my crazy relatives? I think. They’ve done a lot of bad shit and they need to answer for that, but...the right way, not backwoods murder. We’re better than that, I hope.” - [If the Deputy is taking the killing route] “I get wanting to kill the Seeds and the cult...but this isn’t going to end well, even after we’re done. I wish you wouldn’t, but I can’t stop you if this is the choice you’ve made. ...I’m sorry I can’t be of more help to you. I...hope you’ll be alright, in the end. But I don’t think you will be.” [Recall that Joshua Knows What Will Happen To The Deputy if they take the canonically-based killing route. He leaves before the final confrontation, and curiously Whitehorse, Pratt, and Hudson don’t show up in the final scene either—ie, whichever route the Deputy chooses, they survive elsewhere (coughcough Joshua’s secret bunker cough.) The scene with Joseph still happens more or less the same, only the Deputy leaves alone if they choose Walk Away, and ends up alone with Joseph if they choose Resist. Also interestingly enough: Dutch isn’t present on the radio, nor in his bunker. His fish have been taken too. Joshua didn’t have the time to grab everyone, so he tried to grab the ones he knew for sure would die, and warned the others that he foresaw not surviving the Collapse or aftermath, like Mary May and Jess Black, or who suffered serious injuries like Grace. His buds Sharky and Hurk he bribes with beer and weed to hide out in their bunker or hang out in his while this goes down. Boomer, Cheeseburger, and Peaches are all herded to safety (yes there are mechanics for that in the standard AU verse, we shan’t delve into them here though bc spoilers tho.) The others he tries to warn, but whether he managed to get to them and some of the other latter people mentioned above in time or not is uncertain.] - [If the Deputy switched from a killing route to a no-kill route and all of the Seeds are still alive, Joshua sounds relieved] “Hey, I know it’s...it’s hard to hold off pulling the trigger when someone who’s hurt so many people is in your gunsights, but...I do think bringing them in for actual processing through the legal system—a proper trial without bullshit—is the better way. For all of us. Thank you.” - [If the Deputy switched from a no-kill route to a killing route, sounds slightly devastated] “...Why?” - [If the Deputy is doing a “neutral” run of killing significant numbers of cultists, but is sparing the Seeds as they go] “...I appreciate you not killing the murdery head-cult-family members, but…you think we could maybe lighten up on killing the rank and file? They don’t have the big names and they aren’t the leaders, but those are still people. They are responsible for their own actions, not saying they aren’t, but many of them are redeemable. Not all of them, but...maybe we can just lay them out in the infirmary for a good long while instead? Nothing permanent. The bad ones though can fall off a cliff.”

- [If the Deputy is doing a “selective killing” run of not killing rank and file cultists, but is in the process of killing all the Seed Heralds. Joshua sounds conflicted.] “I appreciate you not killing the followers, though some of them are definitely bastards who shouldn’t be allowed to walk free for the shit they’ve done, but...you think we could...maybe not kill the Seeds either? The Seeds are the primary responsible parties, not contesting that, but maybe we can just kick their asses and arrest them instead? It might help dampen the chaos somewhat, maybe we can use ‘em for leverage. We certainly could hide them somewhere secure that the Peggies wouldn’t be able to find ‘em. It’d be easier to talk Joseph down too, using his siblings as leverage.” [See above for killing route ending details.] Also? We’re driving in separate cars. Don’t turn on the radio, stay away from the others. You’re still brainwashed, and dangerous.” [Joshua is disappointed in the Deputy for not having stuck to some manner of universal moral principle.] - [If friendly, and the Deputy is on either a no-kill playthrough or has switched to a no-kill route,] “Hey, you wanna play a game of checkers, or chess? Take five for a bit, if you got the time?” - [If friendly, and the Deputy is on either a no-kill playthrough or has switched to a no-kill route,] “Hey, not to be mushy or anything, but...thank you. For being you. It’s inspiring to see someone’s able to take the higher path when everything’s falling to pieces all around us. Makes me have a little bit more faith in humanity, too.” - [If friendly, and the Deputy is on either a no-kill playthrough or has switched to a no-kill route, and has been on said no-kill route for a decent amount of time,] “Hey, we grabbed some really good produce this time around and sent it on over to Casey. Told him I’d tell you to swing by, and asked him to save some for you in case you were interested. They’ve got some fresh beef for burgers and sandwiches, pumpkin pie, apple pie, loaded baked potatoes, and all kinds of other tasty stuff for a cookout. The Ryes are coming round to help pitch in and organize it all as a little morale boost party. Wanna come? You deserve to put up your feet and relax, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who’d appreciate your company if you felt like joining in. If you’d rather not, I can sneak food to you if you want quiet time to yourself. It’s all good, just tell me what you want and where you want it.”

Location Specific:

- Near where the police station was, if it’s been burned down: [Sighs.] “While I’m not missing the paperwork that got torched, there was a nice feel of history to the old place. Wish they hadn’t burned it down, fuckers. But, well...the Project and the Seeds have good reason to have no love for police and authority figures among others, even before all this horribleness and the leadup stuff came down. So I can’t say I’m surprised they did.”

- Upon entering the Spread Eagle, if friendly: “Finally, a place where everybody knows our names instead of yelling “Deputies!” at us all day! Wanna hit up the arcade? I’ll buy the first round if you get the higher score.”

- Seed Ranch, outside if it hasn’t been liberated, inside if it has been liberated: “Never going to understand why some folks want real airy houses with so much dead space as their main living quarters. Feels more like a knickknack museum you’re supposed to look at, not a home you’re supposed to live in. He’s got all this Eden’s Gate paraphernalia in those glass display cases, and I don’t doubt John’s fervent in his beliefs, but it feels more like a rich boy’s hunting and vacation lodge cobbled together with a vague idea of home. You saw the doghouse out back, right? What’s the point of having a dog live outside if you’ve got ALL this space, it’s all finished wood floors, and you’ve made sure to train ‘em and raise ‘em properly so they know not to chew on the furniture? It’s lonely, that’s what this is. Joseph chides John and all that about learning to love, but it’s a case of the blind leading the blind there.” - Outside St. Francis Veterans Center: [Before the Veterans Center is liberated, if Jacob has captured the Deputy at least once, so the song “Only You” is played around the Center, and the melody starts to be audible in the distance as the group approaches.] “Yeah hey, I’m going to go the other way now and wait for you over here where I can’t hear the song of madness, ‘kay? Maybe you should avoid it too.” [This is followed by Joshua refusing to go too close to the Center, sans possible AU story missions.] - Anywhere near Joseph’s Island: [The first time the party gets near Joseph’s Island,] “Uh. No. I’m not going near that place twice any sooner than we need to.” [Watch Joshua be willing to jump out even into deep water and swim away if the Deputy tries to approach the island with him in tow on a boat.]

OC Fighting Style

Tagged by @chyrstis​ !! Thank you for the tag!! :D <3 This was another fun one to fill out (and shorter than the above but you know what we’re stapling all of these bad boys into one post bc Why Not.) Have an aesthetic picture of a Jacob sheep skull upon a sheep skin for the fun implications of what that says about Joshua’s fighting style. xD Ram skull image after some searching was sourced from [here], with a creative commons license for free-to-reuse, with some limitations.

Rules: bold = often (or always), italics = sometimes, default = rarely, strike = never

fight honorably / fight dirty / prefer close-quarters / prefer range / chat during / go silent / low pain tolerance / high pain tolerance / attack in bursts / attack steadily / go for the kill / aim to disarm / fight defensively / bait an opponent’s first strike / strike first / provoked easily / provoke their opponent / tease / get visibly frustrated / shout while attacking / use strategy / focus on their battle / experience conflicting thoughts during battle / rush in recklessly / try to read their opponent before fighting / fight wildly / fight calmly, apathetically / fight with anger / fight with excitement / fight because they have to / fight because they want to / fight without regard to wounds / run away when wounded / hide wounds / take a blow to protect another / prefer a blade / prefer a gun (non lethal rounds/tranquilizer darts) / prefer a bow / prefer a shield /  prefer a spear naginata / prefer a personalized weapon / prefer psychic abilities / prefer brawling / their greatest weakness is physical / their greatest weakness is mental / their greatest weakness is emotional / transform for battle / fight as they appear / rely on strength / rely on speed / use everything they have / hide their full potential / exhaust quickly /  high stamina / doubt their strength / proceed with caution / behave arrogantly / brag after landing a hit / belittle their abilities / use psychological tactics / use brute strength / avoid civilians / strike down civilians / damage surroundings / avoid damaging surroundings / signature fighting style / making it up as they go / mastered skillset / learning their skillset / fancy footwork / sloppy footwork / messy fighter / elegant fighter / accept defeat / refuse defeat / beg for mercy / compliment their opponent / insult their opponent / use unnecessary movements / move efficiently / barely move / prefer to dodge / prefer to block / defend their blindside / has no blindside / use all available advantages / strictly use one main method / play around / hold back / fight ruthlessly / show mercy / wait for opponent to be ready / strike when opponent isn’t ready / fear death  / fear pain / fear killing / has PTSD / avoid fighting / has lost a fight / has won a fight / has killed / refuses to kill / want to die standing / would succumb slowly

WIP Day

Tagged by @chyrstis and @hawkfurze !! Thank you for the tags!! :D <3

An excerpt from the current WIP chapter for ACABH: ————————— Weak. He was so weak, barely able to move right now, and he didn’t even know why. There was pain, a lot of pain, a feeling like his bones were on fire and about to crumble under pressure at any moment—but he’d been through worse. In this instance, he could recall that he’d fallen through the sky for a brief tumultuous time before gravity had stepped in, leading to him landing hard upon the road, as if making up for the lack of physics earlier. —————————

[cannotgiveafuck]

Shazam week prompt 3

Hey yall! Guess who couldn't finish the prompts on time last week? Its me! I'm gonna do em anyway!

Prompt 3: Dress Up

---

Billy knew what others thought of him and Captain Marvel. He wasn't as stupid as they thought.

Of the League that knew, and after the shock had worn, majority had settled on viewing him as a child playing dress up. When they interacted with Captain Marvel, they didn't see him as a hero for pantheons of Gods' will, as an avatar that had experience from dozens of previous lives, or even as someone who had already been in the hero business for several years. Even though he stood at over six feet with a physical build to match Superman's, the others still treated him like he was that undernourished kid in a baggy hoodie, like he was less than their teenage sidekicks.

They didn't understand.

When Billy played dress up, it was never with a cape. He never pretended to be a superhero.

[MORE]

-x-

In hindsight, Billy should have been a bit more aware of his situation from the start. Maybe then he would have caught on a bit earlier and gotten out of this on time.

As it were, however, he was good and trapped. 

Not physically, of course. Because he could always get away if he needed to. But socially…

That would either mean alerting his not-quite-kidnapper of his plan when he said his quick goodbyes, thus giving the man the opportunity to plan another course of action, or that meant Billy unceremoniously leaving without any goodbyes. And Billy liked to think he had enough manners to warrant proper departures for his friends.

Were they his friends?

He liked to think so.

Though they did help orchestrate his kidnapping.

"You are supposed to go into the water, Batson. That is how water parks function. Unless you lack the basic skill of swimming, which I should not be surprised at, since you lack a lot of skills."

Thoughts startled, Billy looked up at Damien, arms crossed and face carefully blank except for his glare. Or he was just staring really intently. Billy didn't think the other boy had any other expressions besides varying degrees of annoyance and murderous.

"Says the guy just as dry as I am," Billy said, holding back a pout and going for unbothered. The kid was a freaking ninja.

Damien scoffed, but did not deny that statement. A short silence fell between them, but it was far from the cold or intensely invasive inspection Billy was subjected to when Damien first learned of Captain Marvel's identity.

Billy liked to think they were starting to get along now. 

"Besides," and here was where Billy's hubris shone, he couldn't resist a good teasing. "How am I supposed to relax when I've been kidnapped?"

Damien's glare, if possible, became even more poisonous at Billy's cheeky smile. Good thing Robin couldn't shoot lasers. "This is hardly a kidnapping. You willing joined us."

At that, Billy really did pout. "It's not really willing if I'm shoved into a jet and no one told me where we were going."

The eyebrow raise spoke volumes of how lousy an excuse Damien thought of that. A trait he probably learned from Bruce. And Billy could not help but laugh. Despite his efforts, Damien could be very expressive, and often showed more than he wanted to. 

Or maybe it was just what Billy picked up on. 

He was good at reading people, he knew that. It helped that one of his favorite pastimes was people watching. With a quick glance, Billy noted the locations of everyone else. Their life energies easy to find from the crowd, all of them bright and flaring and something Billy fully memorized, took comfort in.

"I guess there are worse places to be fake kidnapped, though."

Koriand'r was easy to spot, her energy constantly blazing, but invitingly warm, in the corner of his periphery. She was currently enjoying the hot tub with Dick and Roy. Somewhere at the lazy river, Jason was enjoying his giant margarita. Connor was also easy to find, his energy similar to Clark's. Him and Tim were going for their fifth ride down the giant tube slide. Clark had managed to convince Bruce to join him at the bar side pool, both of them saturated, both of them carrying mantles everyone knew and believed in. 

(Belief was a powerful kind of energy, when channeled properly. Though, Billy didn't think either of them really knew about all that. Not when they had their own strengths.)

This was probably the safest place to be on Earth, in the whole Galaxy, and yet…

And yet.

"Okay, well, I'll at least take a look at everything first," he said, finally moving off his beach chair at the poolside. 

Bruce had rented the cabin rooms at the far end, a place specifically for their group, so as to not worry about scrounging for seating. But still, Billy worried. What if someone took their stuff? It seemed highly unlikely, but one could never be too sure. Not that Billy doubted Clark and Bruce to take care of everything, to have been extra prepared with security or whatever. They were keeping aware of everyone even now, but…

Being willingly barefoot on the wet ground was a new thing, but Billy had just been gifted the sandals currently under his chair and they still felt odd on his feet. Unsecure and flimsy. He was never one for sandals anyway, when he had a cheap and sturdy pair of sneakers to last him. The swim trunks, as well, were new and strange feeling, but he couldn't do much about that since he didn't have anything else. Well, nothing that was already his. There were clothes that fit suspiciously well folded in the drawer of the hotel room he was sharing with Damien. The only thing originally his was the white tshirt he was currently wearing.

Since he could not very easily walk around bare chested without raising alarms. People tended to notice large scars on children. Especially when those people were concerned heroes and they hadn't yet been told about it.

"You've patrolled the parameters several times already," and Billy was sort of surprised Damien had followed, had stuck around this long. Though he was less surprised at the other boy's perceptiveness. "Do you doubt my father's preparation for our staying here?" 

That was more an accusation than question, but Billy didn't rise to the bait. "Of course not," his tone edged on lighthearted and exasperated. It was easier to tell others what they wanted than to explain everything, anyway. "Besides, we're in a room full of superheroes. I'm not patrolling, I'm surveying."

That was a lie. 

Damien was right, after all. Billy wasn't looking at the rides or the lounging spots, or seeking out social interactions - he was patrolling. He needed to ensure the area was safe, because yes, Superman could punch a bad guy through the roof, and Batman probably had every protocol prepared on hand, but just in case…

What if someone had violent intentions and hurt a civilian? What if a magical attack was brewing? What if a curse was placed on them all? There were so many things that could happen while they enjoyed their vacation.

So many things could go wrong if Billy let his guard down, if he prioritized himself over his duty as Marvel, over the protection of others.

"You're being ridiculous."

"Huh?" Billy looked back at Damien. The boy looked more grumpy than he had several minutes ago, like he didn't choose to follow Billy around.

There was a shriek in the distance and Billy immediately turned his head.

Damien grumbled in a language Billy did not catch, but knew Captain Marvel would have.

Billy focused back onto him after confirming it was just some kids on the raft slide. 

Maybe it was the harsh smell of chlorine or the absolute relaxation on everyone's faces, maybe it was the shorts that felt unfamiliar or the fact he couldn't see all exits from one spot. It was like an itch he couldn't help but scratch, but it only got worse.

"Come," Damien demanded, walking away and fully expecting Billy to follow. 

He did not.

"You cannot stop yourself from being unnecessary, you might as well do it effectively."

That still did not persuade Billy to follow.

"I'm saying I know where the best place in this room is! You can see majority of the entrances and exits, except for the two closest to Kent and my father."

What did that have to do with-

"Oh," Billy followed.

"The chances of us being attacked are incredibly slim, and of those chances my father and I are rightfully prepared. I admit that even Kent has his uses." This was the most Damien had ever spoken to Billy. And Bruce wasn't even forcing him to. "But there is no such thing as being overly prepared."

With that, Damien stopped talking and Billy realized what was happening. Teasing and snark aside - since that was probably all that the other boy knew about communication with peers - Damien's actions spoke plenty. He had been watching Billy for some time now, to the point where Billy found it incredibly creepy and asked Bruce to tone it down. So, really it should not be a surprise that Damien somewhat knew Billy, or had formed an idea of who Billy was. 

Afterall, with his secret out, Billy had lessened his guard around the others, had stopped pretending to be the naive and innocent child they all believed him to be. The act helped with civilians, but with other heroes it was more of a hindrance. Billy did not need or want them treating him like he was helpless or incapable, like he was playing superhero dress up.

This wasn't some game to him

But still, it didn't seem to change their opinions much. In fact, it made some of them more overly concerned to the point where Billy had to figure out an even ground. 

What version of him fit best around them?

By this point Damien may have seen all the iterations and their nuances. Bruce, too, if Billy were honest. All of it left a sort of dread in his gut. Being realized so deeply.

"This will do. It's the best vantage point without climbing to the very top, which I advise against. My father will get upset and make us climb down," Damien said, experience clear.

The location they finally stopped at was the center point of the large room - a playset tower with the lazy river around it. There were slides and waterfalls and stationary super soakers. Children ran around them in joy, some even their own age. 

Billy couldn't remember being so young. He didn't think Damien could either.

"Choose a station," Damien said as he stood by a posting and pumped the soaker up.

"What for?" Billy asked, though he still picked one nearby and copied the motions. It seemed like Damien had done this before.

"So we can shoot at Todd when he passes by, of course. We are small enough that we can use this structure." 

And just in that moment Jason leisurely floated by, lounging on a tube until a spray of water blasted him in his face and toppled him over.

"Uh. Damien? You sure that was-" 

He was gone.

"Billy!" Jason was making his way over now toward him.

"Oh shoot!" Billy ran.

It wasn't until later, after he had been dunked into the pool and made to play chicken atop of Jason's shoulders against Damien and Dick, that Billy realized the other boy's clever ploy. Billy realized that maybe there really was someone he could be himself around.

[ashley-incharge]

It’s a.... | Ashroo

Ashley and Roo find out the sex of the baby. [Dated: May 21st]

@littlemister-roo

ASHLEY:

Ashley could hardly believe what they'd told her. "It's a boy!" The nurse said as she did her ultrasound, pointing on the screen to show what she was seeing and Ashley had...admittedly...been shocked. A boy? Ashley didn't know what to do with a boy! Boys weren't as cute or easy and fun to dress.

After some theatrics and yelling long enough to insist they double check for sure, Ashley learned she had to accept her fate there. She was having a boy. They were having a boy. What a disappointment. Ashley wandered out of the doctor's office, not really paying much attention to Roo as she did it, a hand over her stomach as she grumbled to herself.

"A boy? Seriously? What good's a boy! You were supposed to be a girl. I know what to do with girls."

ROO: 

Roo had surprised, to say the least. A boy? Really? For a split second he'd felt a surge of excitement and pride. It was going to be a boy! He was going to be a father to a son!

But then Ashley had started with the dramatic stuff and the magic of the moment vanished. They got through the rest of the appointment with little fanfare, and as Ashley stalked from the clinic, muttering at her stomach, he followed, bemused.

"It's not so bad, princess," he commented dryly. "Think of it as an opportunity to expand your horizons. You get a mini-me all to yourself and an excuse to become an expert in little boy fashion trends." He smirked. "Sounds like a double win to me."

ASHLEY:

The disappointment was tremendous for Ashley, if only because she had imagined up until this point that of course it would be a girl. Why wouldn't it be a girl? But then the nurse said what she said and now here they were.

Ashley practically stomped away from the office in the direction of the park. She was grumpy and Roo was definitely not helping things in the slightest.

"Not so bad? Really? I don't think a mini Romeo is at all what I would have wanted. I don't want my child to be an idiot!" Oh god, her child might be doomed to be as ridiculous as his father. "Why me?!" She wailed, and admittedly she was feeling it a little more intensely than she might have otherwise, but it was just...it just...the baby was a boy! ROO:

Roo's eyebrows flicked up at her dramatic outburst. He knew it wouldn't help anything but he couldn't resist rolling his eyes because, of course she couldn't not insult him every chance she got.

"You are being awfully dramatic, don't you think?" he asked, crossing his arms. "The kid is a boy, the sooner you accept it, the better for all of us." Usually he had no problem ignoring the jabs at his intelligence. That had always been part of whatever the spark between them was. But having the same jab directed at their kid really rubbed him the wrong way.

"Our kid is not going to be an idiot." He grinned, a bit smug. "He'll be creative and funny and oh so charming." And hopefully a lot nicer than his mother, Roo added silently. ASHLEY:

Oh why was he being so horrible? Ashley was experiencing a major crisis!

Tears flooded her vision, and while it would ordinarily embarrass her at how easy it was for her to cry these days...well. She was pregnant so she had an excuse, and they were out in public, so if nothing else should someone notice she could talk about how horrible Roo was being.

"You mean the better for you! You and your plans to corrupt our baby and make him a...a...geek!" She sobbed, rubbing her eyes furiously and shaking her head. "Ohhhh this is tragic. I had a billion girls names in mind!" ROO:

For a brief moment, Roo felt bad for Ashley. He didn't like to see her cry. It felt off—like they were in some weird alternate universe where Ashley Armbruster would cry over anything.

But then she started with the insults—again—and he snorted. It was on the tip of his tongue to shoot out a snarky retort, but he stopped himself and just sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. And she called him ridiculous?

"I don't think encouraging a kid to enjoy their interests, whatever they may be, really qualifies as 'corruption'," he said reasonably. "But seriously, calm down, Ashley. You're throwing a fit over something you have no control over and what good is it doing you?"

ASHLEY:

"Calm down? Calm down!?" She shrieked. The baby was a boy! How could the baby be a boy? It just didn't make sense. And she didn't care how ridiculous she sounded, she deserved to be upset for a while!

"Seriously what good's a boy? Boys are stupid. And loud and they're not as trustworthy as girls." Ashley sniffled, wiping at her eyes as she tried to take a few deep breaths. "I didn't want it to be a boy."

ROO:

Roo felt a surprising surge of anger at her outburst. It was almost—protective. At first he'd been almost amused that she would throw a temper tantrum over the gender of their baby. Something that was without a doubt outside their control.

But then it started getting personal. Not the fact that he was a boy and she was in essence implying that he was stupid and untrustworthy, no. She was talking about his son!

"Do you even hear yourself, Ashley?" he snapped, glaring. "You are talking about our baby, not me. Not some random kid on the street. Our son." He wanted to feel a little bad for her, seeing as she was crying, but anger and irritation overshadowed it. "If you hate boys that much, maybe you should rethink this whole full time parenting thing, because it won't do any of us any favors if you plan to go around telling our kid how stupid loud and untrustworthy he is."

ASHLEY:

Ashley's face flushed, and her upset turned to anger right along with him. How dare he suggest that she not be a parent to their child? She had the right to be shocked and upset! It didn't mean she wouldn't look out for their kid! In her opinion it was more her kid than his anyway. Her body disrupted? Her kid. Roo could suck it.

"Do you hear yourself? Can I not have a second to be upset? Huh? I'm carrying this kid inside me so really he's like...70 percent my child and 30 percent yours." Ashley glowered at him. "Besides, I have a right to process through it. I would never treat my child like that. I have a brother too. You don't hear me being a bitch to him."

ROO:

There was a time when he would have backed down from Ashley and tried to placate her—but not anymore. There was a lot more than popularity on the line now and somehow Roo no longer cared what she thought of him.

He glared in frustration, his fists clenched at his sides. "Do I hear myself?! I'm not the one over here throwing a tantrum. Sure you can be upset—take all the time that you need to process, but Jesus Christ, Ashley! What does having a brother have to do with how you will treat our kid? Because from where I'm standing, it sure sounds like you won't love our son as much as you would if he was a daughter and if you ask me, that's pretty fucked up."

ASHLEY:

Her anger went from a simmer to a boil. How dare he tell Ashley that SHE was fucked up? How dare he? He didn't know anything! Not to mention he had no clue about everything that Ashley had ever done for her little brother.

"Fuck you. Fuck you Romeo DeRosa. You clearly don't know a damn thing. I practically raised my brother and miraculously he hasn't turned out to be the worst human being on the planet. Unlike you. How dare you suggest I won't love my son!"

ROO:

"Then ACT LIKE IT!" he shouted back, not terribly concerned that they were walking down Main Street and half the town could probably hear their argument now. "You can cry about it all you want, storm and rage, whatever! But for the love of god, stop acting like our kid is cursed just because he's a boy!" He paused just long enough to huff a breath, grinding his teeth in anger. This was so like her. Never wrong about anything, even when she was clearly acting like a lunatic.

"You're only mad at me because I touched a nerve, didn't I? Well, just because you don't like what I said doesn't make it any less true. I'm not the bad guy here, Princess, try to remember that for half a second."

ASHLEY:

How dare Romeo DeRosa yell at her? He wasn't fit to polish her boots! She hated that he thought he was better than her for being upset for a moment. She hated that he thought he'd be a better parent than her. How dare he sit high and mighty when he was the one who'd put her in this mess!

So Ashley started thinking. There was no way he'd let him make her look like the bad person forever. Oh no. She was going to bring the shame down on him. She burst into tears, loud wailing tears that the whole town could probably hear. She wanted to be an actress once. This was definitely within her ballpark. And then all she had to do was wait for it and then...

"Wow what the bloody hell is going on over here?" Wilbur called out, making his way over to the two of them with eyebrows furrowed. Ashley sniffled, wiping at her eyes and pointing at Roo. "He...he...he won't stop yelling at me!"

ROO:

Roo snorted, rolling his eyes at her dramatics. Like seriously? She was going to play the victim here. Like, sure. He got that she was miserable and was generally content to deal with her moods. She had a right be grumpy and emotional here. But today she had just pushed it too far and refused to see reason.

"Right, Princess," he scoffed, crossing his arms. "You left out a few key details. Like the part that you threw a hissy fit about our baby being a boy and when I pointed out—quite reasonably, I might add—that it wasn't the end of the world, you started going off about how awful and stupid our son was going to be!"

He turned to the guy, recognizing him as Wilbur Robinson from school. He was one of those guys who liked to hang around the Ashleys for popularity points. Whatever. "Well? What do you think?" he asked pointedly. "Guy to guy—don't you think its pretty ridiculous to lose your shit because you find out your expecting a son even though you've already decided you hate boys?"

ASHLEY:

The fury only built up in her, fury that he would dare to share those details with anyone. Let alone Wilbur Robinson. Her cheeks flushed, but she made sure to keep her face that of one that was sad and hurt and not absolutely fuming. She had to keep Wilbur on her side after all.

Wilbur put a hand on Ashley A's shoulder, a sympathetic grimace on his face before he glanced over at Roo with a raised eyebrow. "Don't you think it's pretty ridiculous to lose your shit on a pregnant girl? I mean yeah it's kinda bad but her emotions have to be wild." Not that Wilbur knew much about pregnancy. Only that it didn't take with his mum.

Ashley sniffled, wiping at her eyes sadly. "I was just...I understand girls better. Is that so wrong? I just...I..." she started to sob again, leaning against Wilbur to play up the theatrics. Wilbur to his credit didn't draw away or side with Roo and that amde him one of her favorite people in that moment.

ROO:

"You clearly don't know Ashley very well, at all," Roo couldn't help but point out. "If you did, you would know her emotions are always wild." What? It was true. She'd been no less mean and manipulative before all of this.

"But sure, whatever." It was pretty clear to him that Ashley was—well not faking it exactly. He believed she was an emotional wreck, just—she was totally milking it to gain a sympathy vote from her audience. "Are we done here? Or did you want to scream about how stupid and idiotic and untrustworthy boys are some more?"

ASHLEY:

"You're still insulting her? She's carrying your kid. Talk about a shitty thing to do," Wilbur remarked, patting Ashley's back gently as she continued to sob at his side. Honestly it was a little gross to have a wall of water basically on his shirt but whatever. At least Ashley A. seemed to trust him.

Ashley sniffed, lifting her head and glaring at Roo. "G-Get out of here. I'll...I'll tell you when the next appointment comes up." Or maybe she wouldn't. He really infuriated her.

ROO:

Ugh. What was wrong with people? Letting her wrap them around her little finger like that, it was so annoying. Roo, of course, chose to ignore the fact that had been him just a few months before. That was so not the point!

He rolled his eyes. "Right Wilbur, because you totally know anything about this or what its like to try and have a reasonable conversation with her. But sure, take her side. Whatever." He shifted to address Ashley. "Fine. See you around, princess." Turning on his heel, he stalked off, glad to be getting away from the dramatics. Somehow he had a feeling that parenting itself wouldn't be nearly as dificult as dealing with his son's mother.

[forbetterorworsefinalspace]

Shonky

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: Final Space

Part: 2

Link-  🌌

__________________________________________________

Still trying to leave Earth, Sheryl is reminded time and time again that bringing her son along is a big mistake. However he can prove useful. 

Meanwhile Gary is reminded that his mother is a very different person from his father.

For Better Or Worse AU

__________________________________________________

“Is this wrong?”

Sheryl Goodspeed paused her actions to looked up at the sky, annoyed beyond belief. They were only a day or two into their journey, they hadn’t even left Earth yet for fuck sake, and the kid was already driving her up the bloody walls! Kid was a friggen Stickybeak, with no idea about his own personal safety, (She pulled him out of traffic twice already.) but somehow was insightful enough to know when she was breaking the law.

Trust John to raise him properly. Now she had to wreck all his hard work…

“Yes, Gary, but we need to do this.” Sheryl said, going back to her work.

They had driven down to a place Sheryl knew people stored their space vehicles during the off season. Rich tycoons that camp in space or some other nonsense. If they could get a craft that doubled as a living area, that be perfect… However she’d settle for whatever was stored in the fenced in yard.

They just needed to break in and steal one.

“Why?”

God fucking damn it.

“I’ll tell you later Gary.” She muttered, shaking her head. “We just have to.”

“But-!!”

“SHH!!” Sheryl spun to looked at him angrily, practically hiss in his face. “Listen here you little Drongo, see that there?!” She yell whispered, jutting her finger to the house just a few feet away. “That house?! If you wake up the person inside, then they’ll call the cops and take us away! You want to go into foster care?!”

The boy gave a frightened shake of his head.

“Right, then you’d best PULL your head IN!” She growled, then was back at the locks. She fiddled away for a few more moments, grumbling when she realized how rusty she had gotten. However she finally heard the tell tale click, pulling it apart and easing the door open with an ominous creek.

She looked around quickly. No signs of dogs. Or anything else. Suppose the guy just trusted his community. It was a high end area of town.

Sucks to be him.

She stepped in and could feel Gary follow behind her. She shut the door so it wouldn’t slam before leading deeper into the yard. Gary wandered a few steps away, with wide eyes.

“Are these… spaceships?” He asked in awe.

“That's a bit generous.” Sheryl shrugged. “More like space campers, space RVs and space cars, I suppose.”

“Wow…” Gary didn’t seem deterred by the explanation. He walked closer to a sporty looking craft. Likely a racing model. “W-what are we gonna do?”

“Steal one.” Sheryl said, looking over a large camper, only to deem it too noticeable and cumbersome.

“Why?”

Fuckin’....

“To go to space.” Sheryl glared at him. “Why else?”

Gary turned to her quickly, slack jawed and wide eyed. He began to bounce in place, growing a very large smile on his face. Sheryl realized what he was going to do a few seconds before he did.

“Don’t you dare!” She snapped, thankfully stopping him from squealing in excitement. She pointed forcefully to the house again, before going back to her search. As she looked, she kept having to make sure Gary wasn’t about to give them away. Sometimes he started talking too loudly and she’s hush him, forcefully. Sometimes he knocked over tins on the ground or started babbling to himself...and she kept having to stop him, wasting time they didn’t have.

This was a mistake.

He was a mistake…

Focus Sherie, focus.

Finally, near the back, she found a suitable ride. Perfect actually. It was a tow along trailer that had a self contained bubble at the front, where you could put a vehicle to move it, one just like her bike. The trailer area was smallish, but suitable. It had a mini fridge, sink, a few storage areas, a tiny bathroom at the back and two slim beds.

First, getting it out.

“Go hold the door.” She whispered to Gary, who actually ran off to do as he was told. With a heavy grunt she started to pull the vehicle from the storage area, hefting with all her might until her arms ached and her legs burned. Halfway to the exit she started to hurt.

Think of John. This is for John.

She managed it out before taking a second to breath. Gary scampered to her side, looking concerned and slightly upset. She frowned up at him from her seat on the ground.

“W-what?” She huffed.

“How were you moving that?” Gary asked. “Didn’t it hurt? Like a whole bunch? Forever?”

Sheryl moaned, standing up. “Well, sometimes you gotta work through the pain.”

“Why?”

Ah, this kid…

“Unpack our bags and get them in the camper.” Sherly grumbled. Thankfully the boy seemed interested in looking inside and ran to see.

Though still sore, Sheryl forced her bike into the bubble to act as an engine. Thankfully the bags were off it now, but looking inside, she could see Gary jumping from bed to bed, a big smile on his face as he made a mess.

Good lord this kid…

Sheryl leaned against the bubble. This was a mistake… and this was her last chance to leave the kid behind. Or at least on Earth anyway. She was tempted, so very, very tempted to just dump him here.I mean, sure he might get blamed for stealing the camper, but he was a kid. They’d let him off easy…

The boy giggled loudly, beds squeaking under his weight as he hopped around like a roided up Roo. As Sheryl put her head in her hand, pinching the bridge of her nose, the boy leapt from the trailer and ran to take a look at the rockets on the back.

This is a mistake.

“HEY!”

Sheryl looked up into the barrel of a gun, she went rigid as a man dressed in his pajamas started to come closer. “Who the hell do you think you are?!” He asked crossly, waving the weapon around.

God damn it, she hadn’t heard the man coming because of all of Gary’s noise!

Still she shifted to an unimpressed stance, scowling slightly. “That supposed to be a trick question?” She asked dryly.

The man huffed and went fumbling for his pocket, not taking his eyes off her. “N-now you just stay right there until my help arrives, or I’ll shoot you! Don’t you make any sudden moves!”

Where did this guy get his dialogue, a cop movie? Sheryl scowled when he pulled out his phone.

“Wassa matter? Can’t handle a lady on your own?” Sheryl scoffed. The gears were turning in her head, trying to think of a way out of this. Thankfully Gary was quiet now, which was making it a lot easier.

She had to kill him. She just needed to do it before he called for this so called help, or else they’d have to make a runner. She tried to lean to one side, inching her hand down her waist to a knife hidden in her boot. Guy was still trying to dial his cell, which was perfect for her. The longer he struggled, the more time she had to arm herself.

She closed her hand around the hilt when the man seemed to notice her strange posture. He straightened his gun out. “Hey! What are you-”

BANG!

Sheryl started, eyes rounded, as the man straightened like a board, then fell to the ground in a heap. Behind him stood Gary, who slapped his hands over his mouth when the man folded before him. A brick clattering down with the guy.

Sheryl blinked.

“O-Oh no! Oh no!” Gary whined, shaking his hands. “I killed him! That not good! Thats super not good!” He grabbed his hair tightly. “I friggen wreck his stuff!”

“Calm down.” Sheryl knelt, feeling the man’s neck. “He has a pulse Gary, you just knocked him out.”

Gary slumped in relief. “Oh thank crap!- Oph!” He flinched. “Sorry…”

“Fer what?”

“For swearing…”

Sheryl stared at him before laughing. “Ah you can swear all you fuckin want. I don’t give a shit. Just be quiet when we’re sneakin around, yeah?”

“Oh.” Gary stared back at her, processing this information, then hunched in on himself and spoke in a very soft voice.

“Fuck.”

Sheryl was… actually amused by this. She chuckled. “Feel good?”

“Yeah.” Gary looked up at her, but seemed a bit gloomy. “It just, dad said I shouldn’t…”

Sheryl darkened as well. “Hmm, he ain’t here now, is he?”

“No…”

Sheryl glanced back down at the man before taking his gun, she inspected it quickly, lining up her sights with it, then checked the chambers.

Empty.

So he was all bluff.

Sheryl tsked, but put it on her bike. Looking over she could see the house was still dark, but the door was open…

“Come with me.” Sheryl ordered before marching to the house. She nudged the door open, looking into the building. She flicked on a few lights once she knew no one was in the shadows.

For such a nice area of town, this sure was a dump. Everything was in a state. Newspapers and used dishes everywhere. There was no art on the walls, hardly any furniture, and it was cramped to hell.

She pushed Gary to the kitchen. “Find some bags and grab some food yeah? I’m gonna look upstairs.”

“Isn’t that stealing-”

“Gary, we’re already stealing. You konked this dude on the head with a brick not five minutes ago.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Just grab the food.”

Sheryl headed up the stairs, to a small bedroom. It was also sparse, the bed was unmade and every surface was covered in junk. She checked a few drawers and looked over the clutter. Then she found something interesting.

“Well, well, well. No wonder this place is a mess.” She said, holding up a tiny baggie of white powder. She opened it, dipping her pinky in and rubbed it on her gums. It dissolves instantly, leaving a bit of her mouth numb. Sheryl smiled. “Hello Basuco, its been a very long time.” She spotted a large amount of the baggies under a shirt. “And you brought the whole family!”

Sheryl wasn’t one for cocaine. She tried to steer clear of it, if mostly because she saw addiction as a weakness. She did, however, dabble in a few when… when John tossed her out. Thankfully she managed to slapped herself out of it a few days in and just stick to beer and smokes.

These would, however, sell very nicely.

She tossed the lot in a bag and kept looking. Eventually she found the ammo for the gun under the bed. Huh, maybe the guy thought the gun was loaded. Then a large wad of cash in his underwear drawer. After stealing her fill she came down, finding Gary struggling with a large bag of food. It was all junk food and things like that, but Sheryl didn’t care.

“Give.” She ordered, snatching it from him. She took everything down to the trailer, before tossing it inside. She looked back to Gary, but the boy was worriedly hunched over the man he knocked out. There was a sizable puddle of blood on the ground now, which she could see from the light of the house.

“Is he gonna be ok?” Gary asked, frowning.

“Hell if I know.” Sheryl scoffed, coming over. “Bleeding like a faucet though.”

“S-so I did kill him?” Gary asked, sniffling a bit.

Ugh!

“What? Your sad that you killed him?” Sheryl frowned. “He was gonna die someday.”

“Yeah, but I killed him! Me!”

“For the love of-” Sheryl knelted, pulled out her knife, and slit his throat in a quick motion. Blood splashed out, but not as much as she expected. He was likely running low, bleeding in the brain. She wiped her blood off on the grass before looking back to her son. “There. Now I killed him.”

Gary stared at her, eyes the size of pin pricks.

“What now?” She asked, exasperated.

“Y-you killed him…”

“Thats right.”

“...Why?”

She rolled her eyes. Again with the why! “To shut you up and because the less people who see us the better.” Sheryl grunted. The boy just stared back, horrified, making her scoff. “Just get in the bloody camper. I’m gonna hide the body.”

Gary slunk away and Sheryl grabbed the corpse by the legs, dragging him into the junk yard, where she covered him with a metal sheet. Her body groaned, unhappy with all the heavy lifting and pulling.

As she finished up, the dark sky rumbled, a few raindrops coming down from above. It was an ominous sign, but also a stroke of good luck. The water would ruin evidence, and the thunder would hide the noise of their take off.

Walking back to their new home, Sheryl could see Gary curled up inside, clutching the bug jar like a lifeline and wrapped tightly under some blankets. She paused, biting her lip and staring at him. He looked pretty messed up…

Well, he’d get used to it. She had grown up around that sort of thing. Maybe not people per say, but animals definitely.

She came to the bike and closed the bubble, climbing on so she could pull the ship into the sky.

“Mom..?”

“Eh?” She didn’t look at him.

“W-why did that guy have to die?” Gary mumbled. “Was it me?”

Sheryl paused again, and then turned to him.

“Gary. In this world, its either you or them.” She said lowly. “Sometimes the best thing to do is make sure there is no them at all. He would have made it harder for us to get away to space. Now that he’s dead, less problems.”

“Oh… ok.” Gary looked to the window as they started to rise in the air. “But why are we going to space?”

Sheryl looked back out the bubbled, which was rippling with raindrops.

“We’re gonna bring John back.”

The ship took off with a rumble, blending into the thunder as they rose to the cosmos.

And one step closer to John.