#FINE i'll to the youngins

[inseasofgreen]

The younger generation of House Altrium being so much like their father's is so endearing to me like?? Stop please. I can't handle it.

Sciosa - Ilyos sharing the same mannerisms and their 'huff laughter" Like yes Sciosa favors her mama in looks but Ilyos you ARE the father (not that it was up for debate anyway)

Aeris - Sora seeming to be so aloof until you actually get to know them and you realize their just very literal and jokes sometimes (a lot of the time) will go over their heads. Also one liners. At the most random times.

Ryon - Cyren I don't care if Cyren hate Ryon. That's his baby and he can't deny it. The anxiety?? The overthinking? The HANDS ON THE HIPS when being mocked by their cousins/brothers?? Cyren I'm sorry you son gets to embrace the gay and you had to internalize it but that's you are ALSO the father

honorable mentions:

Osia - Sora the strong urge of duty?? Kids a KID and is talking about needing to do his duty for the crown. BRO go play outside or something holy hell

Ilicio - Cyren the lip thing when annoyed. also both being their dad's favorites for NO reason??

Scian - Aeris he's not even born in bk 1 I just wanted to mention him. lmaoo

[bxtonpxss]

[kinascum]

GREASE-STAINED ᯓ★

Benny Cross x Younger!Reader

wc: 2.2k | summary: Your brother's garage is no fun, darlin', lets go for a drive. | nav ♡ taglist

18+ MDNI. sexual themes. age gap. piv. dubcon. power imbalance. overprotective jhonny. brother's best friend trope. possessive language.

You've been stuck in the garage for hours, the scent of gasoline and engine oil a constant in the stifling heat. Your brother, Johnny, is deep in conversation with his club buddies, their voices a low rumble in the background. You've tried to stay out of their way, fiddling with an old radio and watching the shadows dance on the concrete floor, but boredom has settled in like a stubborn cat. The only thing keeping you from dozing off is the occasional clang of a wrench against metal, echoing through the cavernous space.

"What's up, youngin?" a familiar voice breaks through the monotony. You look up to see Benny, a grease smudge across his cheek, sauntering over. His eyes sparkle with mischief as he wipes his hands on a grimy rag. "Bored?" he teases, nodding at the comic book you've been trying to read for the hundredth time.

Johnny glances over, his gaze sharp. "Leave it, Benny," he says, the warning clear. But Benny just laughs, slapping him dry on the shoulder. "Come on, Johnny," he says, "I'm just messing around. You know I wouldn't let anything happen to her."

The tension between them is palpable, a silent dance of power and protection. You roll your eyes, trying to ignore it, but a part of you is thrilled by the attention. "I can take care of myself," you murmur, not quite under your breath. Johnny turns back to his work, but you can feel his eyes on you, a silent reminder of the rules that hang heavy in the air.

"Johnny," Benny says, his voice low and smooth, "I'm just offering your sister a ride. What's the harm in that?" He leans against a nearby bike, his arms crossed, watching you. You catch the glint of a challenge in his eyes, and something in your gut tightens. "She’s bored,"

You stand up, the comic book forgotten in your hand. "I want to go," you say, meeting Benny's gaze. "I'm not a baby anymore." Johnny looks at you, his expression a mix of irritation and concern. "You don't even have a helmet," he points out, but you're already walking towards Benny.

"Just around the block," you say, trying to sound casual. "I'll be fine." You can almost hear the unspoken words hanging in the air: I can handle this.

Johnny sighs, his shoulders dropping a fraction. "Fine," he says, his voice tight. "But you're here before eleven, and you're not going far." He glares at Benny, who holds up his hands in mock surrender.

With a smirk, Benny straddles the bike and offers you a hand. "Hop on," he says, his grip firm and warm as he helps you onto the back of the bike. You can feel the engine rumbling beneath you, a living creature waiting to be unleashed.

As you wrap your arms around Benny's waist, the leather of his jacket cool against your skin, you whisper, "Thanks for this." He nods, his eyes serious now, and you know he's aware of the gravity of the moment.

"Remember," Johnny calls after you as Benny starts the bike, "be careful." But his words are lost in the roar of the engine as Benny pulls out of the garage, the wind rushing past your ears.

The world outside the garage is a blur of color and light. You hold onto Benny tighter as he speeds up, the thrill of the ride making your heart race. He glances back at you, his eyes crinkling with amusement at your wide-eyed expression. "You okay back there?" he shouts over the engine.

You nod, unable to speak, your cheek pressed against his broad back. The wind whips your hair around your face, and you can feel the heat of his body through the layers of fabric. It's exhilarating, a taste of freedom you didn't know you needed.

Benny takes you on a wild ride through the streets, the buildings and cars passing by in a dizzying array. He weaves in and out of traffic with an ease that makes you gasp, but he's always in control, his movements smooth and precise.

Finally, he pulls over at a secluded lookout, the city spread out below you like a glittering blanket. He kills the engine, and the sudden silence feels deafening. "You okay?" he asks, turning to face you. His expression is gentle now, his smirk gone.

You nod again, trying to catch your breath. Your heart is still racing, but now it's for a different reason. Being this close to him, feeling his body against yours, sends a warmth through you that has nothing to do with the engine.

He reaches up and brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch surprisingly tender. "You're braver than he gives you credit for," he says, his voice low. You blush, not sure how to respond.

For a moment, you're lost in his gaze, the world around you fading away. And then, without warning, he leans in and kisses you, his lips firm and demanding. You're too shocked to pull away, too overwhelmed by the sudden rush of sensation.

As the kiss deepens, his hand moves to your thigh, his grip tightening. You can feel the edge of something dangerous, something that makes your pulse race even faster.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. His hand slides higher, and you realize with a start that he's unbuttoning your Levi's. You're torn between the thrill of his touch and the sudden fear of the unknown.

You lean into the kiss, your body responding despite your racing thoughts. Benny's hand is warm, his fingers deft as they slip inside your jeans, the roughness of his calloused skin a stark contrast to your softness. "Benny," you murmur, not quite sure what you're asking.

He takes your hand and guides it to his crotch, his heart thundering, but his length pulsing under your small hand. "You feel that?" he murmurs, his eyes searching yours. "That's for you."

You nod, swallowing hard, trying to process the sensations flooding your body. You've never felt anything like this before, a mix of excitement and fear that makes you feel alive. You look into his eyes, dark and intense, and you know you're crossing a line.

"Tell me to stop," he says, his voice gruff, "and I will."

You hesitate, your breath coming in quick gasps. You know you should, that Johnny would be furious, but the thrill is too much to resist. You bite your bottom lip, looking away from him, unable to speak.

He takes your silence as consent and continues his exploration, his hand moving with surprising gentleness. You're acutely aware of every touch, every breath, every heartbeat.

"Look at me," he says, his voice a soft command. You meet his gaze, and he smiles, a knowing smile that sends a shiver down your spine.

The world narrows to just the two of you, the city below forgotten. You lean into him, your body responding to his touch, eager for more.

His hand slides further up, finding the warmth of your center, and you gasp, your eyes going wide. He kisses you again, deeper this time, his tongue exploring your mouth as his fingers explore your body.

You're lost in the moment, the vibration of the Harley beneath you, the warmth of Benny's body, and the way his hand feels as it moves up your thigh. "You like that?" he asks, his voice a low rumble that matches the idling engine. You nod, unable to form coherent words, your heart hammering in your chest like a drum.

He continues to kiss you, his other hand reaching around to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "You're so sweet," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "So innocent." The way he says it sends a thrill through you, making you feel both vulnerable and powerful.

You lean into his touch, your hand sliding up to grasp the back of his neck. His hand moves further, teasing you, and you can't help but let out a little moan. He smiles against your lips, his eyes dark with passion. "You're sure?" he asks again, giving you one last chance to stop him.

You nod, your eyes locked on his, and he kisses you harder, his tongue delving deeper into your mouth. His hand moves with purpose now, his fingers finding the sensitive spot that makes your body arch against him. The world around you fades away, leaving only the sound of your racing hearts and the distant hum of the city.

Benny's hand moves to pull open your jeans, his knuckles brushing against your stomach at the proximity, making you shiver. You feel his calloused fingers slide inside, and you gasp as he touches you in a way no one ever has before.

"Relax," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm. "Just feel it." And you do. You feel the heat between your legs, the ache that builds with every stroke of his thumb. Your breathing is ragged, and your grip on him tightens.

He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his breath hot against your neck. "You're so wet," he says, his voice filled with wonder. "So ready for me." His words send a shockwave through you, making you even more aware of your own need.

You nod, your voice a shaky murmur. "Ready." You're not sure if you're ready for what's to come, but you want it, crave it in a way that's both thrilling and terrifying.

Benny's hand moves away from your jeans, and he stands, lifting you with him. He turns you around so that you're bent over the seat of the Harley, the cool leather pressing into your stomach. He takes your wrists and secures them with a gentle but firm grip above your head, leaning in to whisper, "Trust me, baby."

You nod again, the reality of the situation sinking in. This is happening. You're about to give yourself to Benny, here and now. You feel his weight shift behind you, his body pressing against yours, and then he's pushing into you, slow and deep. You gasp at the intrusion, your eyes squeezing shut as he fills you completely.

"Open your eyes," he commands, his voice low and gruff. "Look at me." You do, seeing his reflection in the chrome of the bike's fender. His gaze is intense, holding yours as he starts to move, his hips rocking in a slow, steady rhythm.

You bite your bottom lip to keep from crying out, the pain mingling with the pleasure. He's so much bigger than you ever imagined, and it's overwhelming. "Breathe," he reminds you, his hand moving to your hair, his grip tightening.

You focus on his eyes, the way they never leave yours, and let the sensations wash over you. The pain subsides, replaced by a growing warmth that spreads through your body, making you feel alive in a way you never have before.

With every thrust, you feel yourself getting closer to the edge, the tension building inside you like a coiled spring. "Come for me," he murmurs, his breath hot on your skin. "Let me hear you."

And you do. The sound escapes your lips, a keening moan that echoes through the quiet night. Benny's grip tightens on your hair as he speeds up, his movements becoming more erratic. You can feel his own need, his own desperation, and it fuels yours.

The world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you, connected in the most intimate way possible. His body slams into yours, the leather of the bike seat cool and unforgiving beneath your palms. You clench around him, the pleasure cresting like a wave.

"That's it," he whispers, his voice strained. "Good girl,"

Your orgasm ripping through you like lightning, leaving you trembling and breathless. Benny follows, his own release shuddering through his body, his grip on you never loosening.

When it's over, he holds you for a moment, his forehead pressed to your back, his breathing ragged. "You okay?" he asks, his voice gentle now.

You nod, unable to speak. You're okay. More than okay. You're alive.

He releases you, and you stand, your legs shaking slightly. He pulls you into his arms, kissing the top of your head. "Mine," he growls, his voice filled with possessiveness. "No one else gets to touch you like that."

You lean into him, feeling a mix of emotions: love, fear, excitement, and a hint of sadness. You know Johnny will never understand, never approve. But in this moment, with Benny's arms around you and the city lights twinkling below, you don't care.

He helps you back onto the bike, and you wrap your arms around his waist as he starts the engine. The vibration against your still-sensitive core sends a shiver through you.

As you ride back to the garage, you know that nothing will ever be the same. You've crossed a line, and there's no going back. But for now, you're content to hold onto Benny and let the wind wash over you, the echo of your shared secret a sweet ache in your heart.

When you pull into the garage, the lights seem brighter, the sounds sharper. You slide off the bike, your legs wobbly from the intensity of the experience. Johnny looks up, his eyes narrowing at the sight of you, but Benny just gives him a knowing smile, and he turns away.

You follow Benny into the garage, the sound of your boots echoing in the stillness. The air feels thick with tension, charged with the electricity of what just happened between you. Johnny's eyes track you, his expression unreadable.

"Johnny," Benny says, his voice casual, "I got her back safe and sound." He winks at you, and you blush, hoping your brother doesn't notice. You can feel the heat of the lie, the weight of your secret pressing down on you.

Johnny grunts, not looking up from his work. "Good," he says, his voice tight. "Don't let it happen again."

You bite your tongue, not daring to argue. You know he's just worried, but you can't help but feel a spark of resentment. You're not a kid anymore. You're a woman who's just had her world rocked by the most incredible experience of her life. Benny turns as he walks back to his bike, a smirk on his face "We'll see," he teases, shooting you a wink as he revs the engine, taking off as graceful as an uppercut.

[briefalpacashark]

~Cowboys and Men = Part Two~

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“She's her own woman. Who knows not to mess with pretty little cowboys like you,” Jonny stated. He didn't like the cowboy from the moment they meet. Weather that be due to the insult or not was unimportant.

“We’ll see about that,” Arthur smiled, walking away.

“Can we kill him?” Ghost asked.

“Such a pity a civilian was caught in the crossfire,” Jonny shrugged, adding onto Ghost’s statement.

“I volunteer. I'll just say my aim was off,” Gaz offered.

“Easy boys,” Price shut down the idea. But he wasn't necessarily opposed to it.

Tommy was a good rider for his age. He stayed on the back of the beast of a bucker longer than anyone else. Then it was your turn. 

“Fucken hell,” you whispered as you climbed into the pen sitting atop the horse that moved around ready to send you straight to hell. 

“You look nervous,” your head snapped to the side to see Tommy smiling at you.

“He's wild,” you nodded down to the horse.

“You can still back out,” he suggested. That smile he wore, was he being suspicious or just a dick. “Ain't no shame in being a buckle bunny,” he stated. Your face settled into a frown at the insult.

“Lets go!” you announced. Man, that horse rocked you. You lasted an average amount of time. At one point, you lost your hat. You were thrown from the horse in a dramatic fashion tumbling across the ground. The people cheered as you got yourself to your feet. When you recovered from the fall, you looked around for your hat. It had fallen out of the arena. With your body still buzzing with adrenalin, you jogged over to it. As you were about to reach down Arthur had picked it up. 

“Than-” your words trailed off as he took off his own and placed yours upon his head. Your face flushed as you were reminded of the hat rule. He grinned, leaning down over the railing holding his own out to you.

“Ohhhhh looks like she's got an admirer. You two youngins be safe tonight,” the announcer called as wolf whistles sounded front the crowd. You brushed your nose, ducking your head in embarrassment.

“Will she take the hat?” the announcer asked. 

“Take the hat! Take the hat!” the crowd began to chant. God, how did it happen? Spotting Tommy watching from the side, you second guessed your actions. In one of the meeting Price had order you all to blend in. To play the part.

If he thinks you're a buckle bunny you'll play the part of a buckle bunny. You took Arthurs hat and placed it on your head, the crowd going wild. Arthur smiled, tipping the hat to you as you walked off. 

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It was game time. You all convened drawing your hidden guns as you headed for Tommy, only when you arrived at the garage he was gone.

“The fuck?” you questioned. When returning to Arthur he meet the team halfway with a sorry look.

“He left early, right after your run,” Arthur stated in an apologetic tone.

“Let's go. We should still be able to catch him on the road,” Price suggested.

“Hey, come on. He'll be here again tomorrow. You'll have a better chance then anyway,” Arthur held his hands up to slow you all.

“Why's that?” Jonny asked.

“Less people. He stays for drinks after,” he stated. 

“You better not be fucking us around,” Ghost warned, turning fully to tower over Arthur.

“Wouldn't dream of it,” he answered. You all turned to Price ready to act on his decision.

“Fine,” Price stated. The boys walked off, ready to head back to the ranch. You walked up to Arthur with a bashful smile.

“Here,” you said, handing his hat back to him.

“You know the rules, right?” he asked. Wear the hat, ride the cowboy. If you put on a cowboy's hat, it meant one of two things. He was coming home with you or you were going home with them.

“I do. But I was playing a role. To keep Tommy thinking I'm the buckle bunny he suspects,” you said beckoning for your hat. Arthur looked slightly disappointed at your words.

“I see. But I want you to know the offer still stands,” he said, taking your hat of and stepping closer to place it on your head.

“And while I'm flattered, I'm sorry but I have to refuse,” you stated with a small smile.

“It's the Ghost boy isn't it?” he asked. You sputtered a resonance as you chuckled, stepping back.

“Funny,” you said fixing your hat so its brim covered your eyes from his gaze.

“Well, if I was him I'd get a move on,” Arthur stated with a knowing smile before walking off. With a huff you shock your head searching for the boys, unknownst to you one particular one with a skull mask was situated in a shadow watching the whole situation with an uneasy feeling in his belly. 

“If I were you I'd get a move on,” Ghost knew Price had approached him. But his statement still made him jump.

“Don't know what you're talkin bout,” Ghost muttered.

“That cowboy’s working his magic. I’s get in before you regret it,” Price stated with a knowing look. Ghost stared at his Captain a man he trusted with is his life.

“Men like us don't deserve a woman like her Captain, we don't deserve happy endings,” Ghost muttered. Price nodded. A part of him wanted to agree.

“Well she deserves the world. And if she wants you in that world are you going to refuse?” Price asked.

“She deserves better than me John,” Ghost whispered. His hands were dipped in too much blood to ever hold her.

“I don't think so,” Price shrugged.

“Oh yeah, what do you think?” Ghost almost snapped at the man.

“I think you deserve each other,” he whispered, giving Ghost shoulder a firm pat before walking away. He didn't say it with malice. He said it with a kind smile. Trying to tell his solider that he did deserve happiness.

That night you were all sat round a fire with a few of the ranch hands. All drinking and simply enjoying the night. Some shared stories. Jonny made up a few of his own playing the part of the cowboy. One of the ranch hands were plucking a banjo admitting he had just started to learn. After a few seconds he was forced to put the instrument down by the many annoyed ranchers.

“Damn thing sounds like a cat dien,” A rancher called.

“Come on now, the banjos a beautiful instrument,” you called out in defense. You were sat in between Price and Ghost on a log.

“You did hear what we hear right?” Jonny asked, pointing to the embarrassed lad. 

“No offense, but you need to hear it played right. It can be beautiful,” you said.

“Oh yeah prove it,” Gaz dared. With the help of a little alcohol you shrugged, standing up. “Hold that for me, will ya sweetheart?” You asked passing your bottle to Ghost who automatically took it. 

“Not your sweetheart,” he grumbled. You chuckled with a wink before walking over to the lad.

“May I?” you asked. He handed over the instrument and the picks which you slipped onto your fingers. 

“Didn’t want to say anything before, but it probably would help if ya tuned it,” you said plucking a few stings to get the right tune. Arthur stood from his seat, which was semi center allocated and offered it to you. 

“Why thankyou sir,” you tipped your hat as you sat down.

“Now, no one make fun of me. I'm a little rusty,” you whispered.

“There is no way you know how to play that thing,” Jonny muttered. You smirked giving him a wink as you adjusted. 

“This one's called sugar hill,” you muttered before you began. To there surprise, a cohesive and beautifully uplifting melody echoed from your fingertips. Your audience was silent as smiles settled onto their faces. It was peaceful, beautiful. It was a moment you wished you could freeze. Yet when the song ended so did your little fantasy. Everyone cheered and clapped. 

“Oncour!” Arthur called.

“Alright, if the crowd wishes,” you grinned befor diving into another song.

After a while everyone was sort of talking to themselves. You sat by the lad form before giving him a few pointers.

“So Ghost was it. What do you do?” Your head snapped up at the question much like the other boys. Next to Ghost saw a woman, drop dead gorgeous and she knew it type of woman. She sat really close to him. A seductive smile on her lips. 

“I'm on Anna’s team,” he stated simply. “I know that. What's your speciality?” she asked. She was just making conversation. Only it wasn't just a conversation for Ghost. It was an interrogation. One he need to keep his cover though. His mind went blank. All he had to say was something to do with horses, or management. After all you didn't think the boys would be asked anything past that. Laswell certainly didn't so she didn't give the boys specialised jobs in your so called team. In all Ghost’s wisdom he turned to look for help. His eyes mistakenly rested on Jonny.

“He's uh. He's our musician,” You and Price almost smacked your foreheads at the words. Out of all the jobs Jonny could have chosen he chose musician. Ghost eyes narrowed into a glare for a split second before becoming blank.

“Oh my, that's amazing, what do you play?” she asked, moving closer. So close that her chest brushes by his arm. Your frowned at the gnawing feeling that settled in your stomach.

“Guitar,” Ghost answered.

“Oh you're in luck,” the woman dispersed to the back of truck before pulling a guitar out. Great, just great. She trusted the instrument into his hands with an excited smile.

“Will you play something for me? Please,” she flashed her pretty eyelashes. 

“I don't feel like it,” Ghost stated.

“Oh come on. What, you not a real musician then?” she pressed teasingly. Ghost was a good soldier, so he knew he had to do whatever he could to keep his cover. So to all your utter shock he slipped the guitar on. And started playing.

I can't help falling in love with you, by Elvis Presley. 

I can't help fucking falling in love with you by Elvis Fucking Presley. 

His voice was beautiful, deep and steady. Like the beat of an old tribal drum. His eyes focused solely on the guitar as he sang. The team was shocked into slack jawed silence. Simon Riley was singing and play the actual guitar. You never thought you would see the day.

And you found yourself wishing. Wishing that the person he was singing to was you. A stupid dream. You didn't see it, in fact you just missed it. Ghost had looked to you, a slight flicker of his eyes caught by very few. When you looked up at him, his eyes had returned to his guitar. Two gazes so soft, only for it to have been missed by the two they were intended for. It was painful for the boys to watch. When the song finished, everyone cheered yet again. The girl wasn't wearing a hat so when she reached over and took Ghost and placed it on her head with the bite of her lips, almost everyone cheered and whistled. The girl blushed and ducked her head. The hat rule. Wear the hat, ride the cowboy.

They look good together. You thought. His eyes were focused solely on hers as she spoke. 

A sad smile spread across your face as you acknowledged the painful truth. Simon would never be someone like that to you. Sure you were friends, well, you hoped you were friends. But he had never made any clear signs. Every time you would say something sweet he would shoot it down. Just remembering his pervious comment, your throat stung bitterly. You were good at hiding dejection, you could pretend like it didn't affect you at all. But it did. 

Love wasn't in the cards for  you. You supposed you had accepted that fate long ago. Still knowing the fact didn't make it hurt any less. You tried not to think about it as you continued to teach the guy. Still, the mind rarely listens to you. Moments of the past passed through your mind, all the times you had tried to flirt. Tried to lay down a hint. Tired to be sweet. Tried to show him that you liked him. All ended in either being shot down or ignored. It wasn't like he was rude about it. He just didn't leave any room for misinterpretation. Misinterpretation you constantly enacted when you failed to see the expressions his mask hid.

And it didn't help that the only time he was sweet to you, when he held your hand so tenderly in the hospital. When he pressed his lips to your palm and leaned into your touch. Due to the drugs you couldn't remember a single moment of it.

“So what do you think, we proper cowboys now or what?” Jonny asked Arthur.

“Well you ain't proper cowboys till you've played cowboy poker,” Arthur shrugged.

“The fuck is cowboy poker?” Jonny asked. 

“This is the stupidest fucking thing I've ever done,” Jonny looked like he was about to shit himself. At the moment you all were sitting around a shitty plastic table on shitty plastic chairs. You Gaz, Jonny, Price, Ghost Arthur and another lad. In the middle of a coral.

“So we just sit here!?” Gaz asked as he breathed deeply and quickly on the point of hyperventilation. 

“Yes sir,” Arthur sung from beside you as he handed you a bottle of whiskey. You took it downing a good two gulps.

“This is stupid,” Price grumbled.

“And yet you're still sitting here,” you stated, handing the bottle to him.

“Not a word to Laswell. Understood?” he gave you all pointed looks.

“What scared you'll get in trouble from the missus?” you asked.

“The wife?” Arthur asked. You all chuckled as Price shook his head, handing it to Gaz.

“Are we really doing this?” Jonny asked. At first he thought it was just a joke, but as he saw the bull being rounded up he was staring to grasp the situation.

“Whatever you do Jonny, don't get off the seat,” you said.

“This is fucken mad,” he whispered shaking his head and snatching the bottle from Gaz.

“Forget your big boy pants back at the shop Jonny?” Ghost asked.

“Fuck you LT,” he snapped.

“SOMEONE WANNA EXPLAIN THE RULES?” Gaz asked.

“Last one at the table wins the pot,” you said watching as they slipped the bull int he chute that lead to the coral.

“Don't worry the bull always goes for the table first,” Arthur shrugged.

“THIS IS CRAZY!” Gaz screamed.

“Yeah not much smart thinking went into the creation of this. Pretty sure it was just booze and idiocy,” you stated.

“Set em free!” Arthur yelled. The sound of the gate crashing open sounded and the bull was let lose.

“Fuck this,” Gaz was the first to leave taking the bottle of whiskey with him. You all watched as the bull locked in on its target. It cleaved through the table Jonny and Price leaving before it hit. The table was destroyed and Arthur jumped out the way before the bull plowed straight through him. That just left you and Ghost. 

“Scared big guy?” You asked.

“Never,” he stated. Your eyes locked as the bull found the two of you. You were a little way aways from each other, You had sat on opposing seats so that meant the bull was going to choose one of you. It was a stare of between the two of you as you heard the bull fast approaching. 

Were you a little angry at Ghost? sure. You liked him and he didn't like you. A small flicker of childish rage bubbled within you. How dare he not like you? What was wrong with you? Why not you? It was a stupid little thought, but it was still there. So you kept his gaze, both of you refusing to look away. 

And one moment Ghost was there and the next he wasn't, broken plastic chair legs flipping through the air. The bull had slammed into him. 

“Oh shit,” a chuckle left your lips as the bull ran off. “You alive big guy?” you asked, rushing up to him in a bit of worry. Your eyes watching the bull that fought with the piece of chair stuck on his horn. You had to get out of the coral.

“No,” Ghost grunted painfully.

“Come on, don't wanna get hit again do ya?” You asked, pulling the man to his feet. The two of you rushed to the fence of the coral. Ghost found his thoughts not on the worry of the bull hitting him for a second time but focused on your hand. Which held his tightly as you pulled him away. Making it just in time, the bull pulled to a skidding stop as you both flung yourself over the top. You hit the ground beside Simon your hands still clung together. As you gazed up at the stars loud laughter erupted from your chest as you gave his hand a squeeze. Simons eye on the other hand was focused on you.

“That, my fiends is cowboy poker!” Arthur called, holding his hand out to you. You pulled your hand from Ghost’s grip and took the offered helping hand.

Later that night, when everyone was asleep, you snuck out to the field, taking the banjo in hand. You continued to drink as you rested upon a tree plucking the banjo as you tried to sort out your thoughts. Which unfortunately constantly pulled themselves back to a certain activity you though Ghost, and the girl were partaking in. Unbeknownst to you, Ghost had completely ghosted the girl, avoiding her at all costs.

 “The fuck you doing out here?” Ghost voice had you flinching, knocking the bottle of booze all over you.

“Shit,” you cursed.

“Drinking on the job?” he asked with a teasingly disapproving tone as he approached.

“Well, can't always be the model soldier now can I?” you asked, putting the bottle to the side whipping the alcohol the best you could. 

“The boys got worried when they woke up and you weren't there,” Ghost explained. You checked your watch. It was 5 am around the time you all would usually get up. You had not realized that you had sat out there for so long.

“I'm a big girl,” you shrugged.

“True,” he nodded, sitting down on the log closest to you. 

“Didn’t know you could play the guitar. Much less sing like an angle,” you muttered.

“Think I sing pretty?” he asked. You smiled.

“Like a siren Simon,” you said flashing him that smile he loved so much. 

“Didn't picture you as a Elvis fan,” you said.

“Oh, yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah, picture you more as a heavy punk. Maybe a little rock,” you shrugged with a teasing smile.

“Well for your information I partake in the enjoyment of the country quite often,” he said.

“Oh, really?’ you asked, a small chuckle leaving your lips involuntarily. A contagious one seeing as Simon's shoulder shook slightly with a chuckle of their own. 

“I wanted to be a cowboy when I was a kid. Dreamt of owning a farm of my own,” he admitted. You paused your plucking. Simon had never talked about his past before. It seemed to serious for him as he quickly changed to a joking tone.

“The guitar original started as a way to impress the ladies,” he stated.

“Well you don't need any help there. That chick seemed smitten with you,” Simon briefly caught onto the slightly bitter bite that came at the end of your sentence. He wanted to believe it, but he also believed it could be his mind playing tricks.

“Just like you are with the cowboy?” Simon didn't know why he said it. Perhaps he wanted you to repute it.

“Who? Arthur?” you asked with a snort.

“What? He's got the horses, money, he's alright looking,” Simon shrugged. You shook your head the whiskey bring out your honesty like it always did.

“Nah. He's uh, he's not the one for me,” you stated simply.

“Who is?” The blatant question caught you off guard. You chuckled nervously, casting your eyes down to the banjo as you plucked it.

“I uh, I don't know,” you muttered. Simon tried not to be dejected at it. “The fucker better hurry up though. I'm getting impatient,” you joked, your eyes flicking up to Simon”s for only a second. It was only a second they needed to be caught in the pools of brown. Simon was studying you, like he did to everyone. Taking in everything about you. But there was something else in his eyes. He seemed like he wanted to say something. Price's words burned in his mind. He wanted to offer himself up as a potential candidate. But as hard as he tried, his tongue simply wouldn't move. You waited a few moments for him to say anything. Then you waited a few more. A sad smile spread across your face. It wasn't possible.

“The girl you end up with is gonna be one lucky bitch Simon,” you whispered turning away from his gaze as you stood. You put the banjo down as you watched the sun rise.

“You think?” finally his mouth wanted to speak. It just didn't say the right thing.

“I know it,” you whispered, patting his shoulder as you walked past him, back to the house. Your hand squeezed his shoulder before slipping off. Simon’s hand reached up, his fingers missing your’s by mere millimeters. 

In a bush nearby, Soap slammed his palm over his eyes, cursing his two teammates under his breath.

Everything was going great. You and the team had a plan. You were seated at a bar area with Tommy not too far away. The second day's events came and went. And now you were just waiting. Waiting for Tommy to peel away from the group so you could nab him. 

A beer was placed down in front of you.

“Sorry I didn't order this,” you spoke up to the bartender.

“He sent it for you sweetheart,” she said, pointing to Tommy. You forced a smile, giving him a cheers motion. He politely dismissed himself from the people he was talking to and made his way over to you.

“Hell of a ride yesterday,” he said.

“It was average,” you shrugged. He smiled as he sat down beside you fairly close. So close in fact that your shoulders were pressed together. 

“Yeah, it sure was,” he stated. Your heart stopped as you heard the click of a safety. A moment later you felt a cool metal pressed through your shit into your side. 

“Well shit,” you muttered, deciding to take a large sip of the beer.

“Shit is right, sweetheart. Now listen close or i'll blow your guts over that lovely girl next to you,” he threatened nodding to the woman who sat beside you. He had a gun pressed against you.

“There's an awful lot of people here,” you stated.

“Good thing my gun has a silencer on it. And if I'm not mistaken, you look a little drunk,” he said his lips twisting into a cocky smirk. 

“Wouldn't be surprised if you passed out, you know. But being the general man I am I’d be sure to take you to a quiet spot,” he suggested. He was right. The music was blaring. Nobody was paying attention to you. And you were alone. You were the lookout. The boys were stationed elsewhere in wait for him. But he didn't know that.

“My boys are watching mate, I wouldn't,” your words got cut off by his boisterous laugh.

“No sweetheart. You see, I know they're waiting for me tucked in little hide holes around the exit. I know you're all alone. Now what you're going to do is tell your little friends that I'm on the move. Heading in a completely different direction than they think I am. Then you and I are gonna slip out the back where I have a car waiting,” he explained it all. 

“And if I don't comply?” your question was answered by the gun being pressed further into your side. Yet your gaze remained unfazed. Unshaken. There was no fear in your eyes. 

“Then I kill him,” he stated, nodding to the bartender. “And her,” he said, nodding to another random person. “And her,” he added, nodding to a little girl who walked by. You stared at Tommy trying to see if he was speaking the truth. To find any lies in his eyes. You couldn't see anything, he was good at hiding his thoughts. And you couldn't risk it.

“How did you know?” you asked. 

“I got a little tip off,” he shrugged.

“From who?” you asked.

“And why would I tell you?” he asked.

“I don't know, cowboy to cowboy?” you suggested. He chuckled again.

“You may be a cowboy kid. But there's things that are a little bit more important than that. Now on with it,” he stated. Rolling your tongue along your inner teeth, you pressed you finger to your ear.

“This is Bingo, Bushy, you there?” you asked. At the other end of the coms, the boys all frowned in utter confusion. 

“What is she on about?” Jonny asked.

“Doc? This is Bravo 6. Repeat your last?” Price asked.

“Bingo has visuals. Target on the move. Casper and Dirt are clear to engage. He's headed for the west car park,” You hoped and prayed that the boys would understand.

“Good girl,” Tommy said, reaching up to rip the earpiece off before you could get a response from them.

“Capser and dirt? What's that supposed to be? Me and Ghost?” Jonny asked. 

“She's not using out code names,” Ghost stated into his comms the realization washing over them like a wave.

“Somethin’s not right,” Price grumbled gruffly.

Tommy had quickly taken you out of the bar area to the secluded back. You were walking to the car, the gun now pressed against your back. Your hands were clasped behind your head per his orders as he had taken your concealed weapons, but he still didn't trust you.

“Isn't this the part where you say I'm not going to get away with this?” he asked.

“Don't need to say something I know is gonna happen,” you shrugged.

“What?” his question was answered by a gun shot. You moved to the side and back, slamming your body against Tommy pinching the arm that held the gun between your arm and side. His pain scream ripped through your ears, a shot having cleaved through his leg. Your hit sent him flying to the ground as you ripped the gun from his grasp falling with him. Pulling your elbow back you stuck him in the face. 

Bullets ripped above you as the boys took out the few enemies that emerged from the car. Flipping Tommy who was wallowing loudly in pain over you slipped some zip ties around his hands. Pulling them taunt you glanced back at the car gun at the ready. Finding all enemies neutralized you stood.

“Doc you alright!?” Price was the first to make it to you.

“Course. Took your time,” you muttered.

“Ghost had to get into position,” he nodded to the shadow that stood on a nearby building sniper on his shoulder. Holding your hand up in thanks, he simply nodded.

“We look like a bunch of rag tag outlaws in these getups,” you stated as you heaved Tommy up along with Price. 

“Price she alright?” Ghost voice pressed into Price comm.

“She's all good,” Price said back.

“Tell em to stop worrying. And remind Jonny he still owes me a photo,” you told Price. When Ghost joined back up with you, you flashed him your usual smile.

“Thanks for having my back Big guy,” you held you hand out for a fist bump. 

“That not your blood is it?” he asked nodding to your pants. You looked down.

“Of course it's not mine. What feel your shootings getting a bit skew?” you asked. As you went to look up your vision was blacked by the brim of a hat. A hand placing it on your head and ruffling your hair with it.

“Quick thinking Doc. Good job,” Ghost hand left your head where he had placed his hat. You tilted it back watching as Ghost loaded Tommy into the back of the truck.

He had put his hat on your head. Through your faint blush, you shock your head. He didn't know about the rule. You told yourself to stop being delusional as you got back to work.

Little did you know Ghost knew all about the rule. Thats why his heart hurt so much to see you willingly taking another man's hat. As you left Price was talking to Arthur. Arthur's eyes scanned over you all as he waved a small goodby. You waved back falling to notice Ghost standing behind you with the smuggest look of victory on his face. After all you were still wearing his hat.

================================================

=Cowboys and Men Part 1 Here=

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=COD Master List here=

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[stupidvillainousposts]

Some Werewolf Gene AU Stuff for the Holiday but It's Mostly Stuff I Thought was Funny on an Empty Stomach

Note: This is pre-Ford returning

Fidds: *Accidentally Cuts His Finger While Welding* AGH! FUCK ME SIDEWAYS WITH A CHAINSAW!

Stan: *Immediately Beginning to Undress* I mean, if that's what ya really want.

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

Mabel: Grunkle Stan! Can me and Dipper go get a turkey with Soos?

Stan: Kids, you know the rule about going into town.

Dipper: But you and Grunkle Fidds go into town almost every day!

Stan: Yeah, at night. And even then we try to stay hidden.

Soos: Mr. Dad-

Stan: Not your dad.

Soos: Mr. Pines, would you feel better if they, like, wear hoodies so their ears are covered? They could wear long shirts to hide their tails.

Stan: *Glares at Soos for a Second* The instant my ears pick up any type of screaming, I'm gonna look for and ground all three of you.

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

Fidds, while basting the turkey: Stanley, honey, could ya do me a favor and check on the pies?

Stan: Sure, I got nothin' better to do. *Walks up to the Oven and Opens the Oven Door*

Soos, entering the shack without warning: Do I smell apple pie?

Stan: Soos? What are you doing here?

Mabel, happily: Soos is here?!

Dipper: Is he staying for Thanksgiving dinner?

Stan: Kids, Thanksgiving is a family holiday, remember?

Fidds: I dunno, Oats, we've known Soos since he was a youngin'. Don'tcha think that makes him one of us?

Stan: *Groans Before Closing the Oven* Fine, but you don't count as a kid. Only the pups get to break the wishbone.

Soos: Ooh, I can't wait to see who wins!

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

Mabel: *Frowns at the Potato Salad on Her Plate* Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Fidds, I don't like potato salad.

Stan: What? Since when?

Mabel: Since always! The ingredients don't go good together for me.

Dipper: I'll eat it.

Stan: No, you won't. Pumpkin, eat the potato salad or no pie.

Fidds: Oats, don't be grumpy. She don't have t' eat somethin' she don't like. 'sides, Dipper offered t' eat it, so it won't be wasted!

Soos: Yeah, Mr. Dad-

Stan: Not your dad.

Soos: Yeah, Mr. Pines! I know my grandma doesn't like it when I don't eat food because it ends up getting tossed out, and that's something we really can't afford. But at least someone's offering to eat it for Mabel.

Everyone Else: *Silently Take in Soos' Statement*

Stan: Alright, fine. Give Dipper the stuff.

Mabel: Can I still get pie?

Fidds: Of course, darlin'.

Mabel: WHOO!

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

Mabel: I'm thankful for my family.

Dipper: I'm thankful for our shack.

Fidds, hugging Stan: I'm thankful for my darlin' sweetheart.

Stan, blushing: Yeah, ditto I guess.

Soos: I'm thankful that we didn't miss the Peanuts Thanksgiving Special!

Everyone Else: *Enthusiastic Agreement*

[ronearoundblindly]

Ari- Baby is sick for the first time

Ari Levinson x best friend!reader (now fiancé)

New Parent Panic, a Bedrock and Blueprints tale

Warnings for protective!Ari, Ari not communicating, you doing the same, and then everyone gets their shit together and it's fluff. WC 2k *Off in the distance an ol' timey man pops up: "An argument, you say? You wrote an argument?? How different from your usual!!" Ha-ha. Yeah. We get it. Ro's the same hoe as last year... **I am not a mother. I know what would reasonably be categorized as zilch about babies. I have, however, seen this overwhelmed and guilty behavior from several of my peeps as they raise their youngins, so that's good enough for me. You're doing fine. I promise.

Sure, there was the rather severe diaper rash incident, and the time when nursing her turned your nipples into raw portals for a newly-discovered circle of hell, but nothing could have prepared you for this day.

Rachel was...meh this morning when Ari left for work. A little whiny, not sleeping well, but she's an infant; that's not new. Overall, she's actually been a very straight-forward baby.

And then you don't know what happened.

You napped very hard until noon (after only a moderately successful feeding) and by then Rach had a fever.

You called the nurses' hotline. You gave her the dose of baby meds. You're trying to keep her hydrated, at least, if she can't be happy right now. You just have to stay vigilant and wait it out.

But that's not easy.

She's crying and won't sleep, she'll barely eat, and you don't have a separate car. You only want to call Ari if it's to say "we need to take her to a doctor." You're not there yet.

So you do the shittiest feeling thing you can think of, the most painful thing, and you wait.

You don't sleep. You barely eat. You take Rachel's temperature like you are monitoring the possible meltdown of a nuclear reactor. One wiggle of a degree in the wrong direction, and that Bat Signal is going on.

I can do this, you tell yourself. I've wanted to be a mom for a long time, so I can do this.

Except you don't sleep and barely eat.

Ari arrives home precisely when he said he would, the exact number of minutes (after work shuts down for the day) that it takes to drive to the house, predictable, dependable, and utterly useless when he opens the door and asks "why is she crying?"

"Because she hates me," you blubber, holding her to your chest, arms cramped from cradling her for so many hours at this point.

"She need meds?"

Of course, I gave her the fucking meds.

"Hungry?"

No, asshole, I purposefully starved your fucking child for my own amusement.

"Calm down," Ari snips back. "I'm just trying to help."

Well then fucking help me!

By now, you likely look as if you're in a war zone: disheveled, manic, and possibly--definitely--hostile.

"Okay, okay, let me just take a piss and then I'll hold her."

"Yeah, of course. Whatever you want. Whatever you need." You turn your back to him before grumbling, "not like I haven't had to hold it all afternoon..."

Ari's still-booted feet land heavily beside you again. "Then I'll take her now," he grits through clenched teeth, "and you can use the bathroom."

"No. I already have her."

"Fine. I'll be right back."

"Take your time."

The way you lace the words with a sickly sweet melody has Ari spinning on a heel and staring at you through his long eyelashes, a tick in his jaw stopping him from saying something he might regret.

"Kid," he finally sighs, "just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it."

He runs a hand over his beard while he waits for your answer. A few seconds later, his hip juts out, arms akimbo, and he bites his bottom lip expectantly.

You just walk off toward your phone on the kitchen counter and call the nurse hotline back.

"I swear, woman," he mutters as you leave, but you're glad he can't hear you sniffle back a sob.

It should be reassuring that the nurse has no new advice for what to do. You're doing everything correctly. You're doing all you can. Don't worry. Keep checking her temp and giving her whatever fluids she'll take. That's all for now.

It doesn't feel like enough. It doesn't feel like all a mother can do.

Ari? Ari waltzes up to the fridge and cracks himself open a beer.

You don't even have words, only flaming hot vibes that will melt his face like a Spielberg movie--you have got to stop watching movie marathons during late-night breast-feeding--if you stare hard enough at his casual blue gaze.

"So," he begins, "you figure out what I gotta do?"

What had been steady whimpering from Rachel has amplified into wails that bring tears to both hers and your eyes.

They just fall down your cheeks, and you wipe them from your chin before they can fall onto your screaming child.

Ari's judging frown makes your stomach turn while he steps closer, bends at the knees, and takes his little girl in hand.

Less than a minute later, Rachel stops, and you just cannot fucking handle it. The only quiet moment you've had in six and a half hours he gets to enjoy moments after coming home.

That's not fair. Cure fucking cancer already, Levinson, and save us the goddamn grief!

The tears and the tired are choking you.

Ari tells you to go freshen up in the bathroom, but that is the most horribly wrong way to say anything to you, ever, in a moment like this.

You stomp out the front door, rip open the sliding back door of the SUV, and crawl onto the cab floor. Once the latch clicks behind you, face buried in the blanket kept on Rachel's car seat, you scream.

You whimper and you cry and you get your fucking time to be angry at all your feelings today because it's bullshit.

You didn't take your own temperature. You didn't get rest and drink plenty of fluids. You didn't take any medicine. All you keep going over in your mind is whether or not you were sick first. Did you have something you gave to your daughter? Is this your fault?

So the tears and the choking continue for...as long as they take.

You don't know how much time has passed before the car door is yanked open again. Thank the stars you are facing away. You can't look at Ari right now.

"Is she okay?" you ask with a watery voice.

His big, warm hand rubs across your back, making you sink further into the upholstery.

"Took a few ounces of a bottle and went down in her bunk."

Ari likes to call Rachel a part of his 'squad,' so he talks to your infant daughter like they're going on 'missions' to the store or getting a bottle from the 'mess.' Your bedroom has thus become the 'barracks.'

Sometimes, he holds her sitting up against his chest and uses her feet to 'march' the pair of them across the house.

Left. Left. Left right left.

And almost always, there's a giggle, too.

"Up you go, kid," Ari huffs, maneuvering you into his arms.

"No," you whine, so tired you can't tell what it is you don't want.

He just keeps saying, "I know. I know," until he's carried you inside.

Instead of taking you to the couch or the bed, Ari sits you both down in the front hall, balancing you on his lap while he loosens his boot laces and finally kicks the sturdy shoes off, placing them on the mat a couple feet away.

He presses his lips to your temple, rough beard gently scrubbing over your eyelid and cheek.

"How many times I gotta tell ya to call me?" he whispers. He doesn't expect to have this same argument again, not like this, but his point still stands. "You know, you're warm, too."

If it's another question, you don't answer that either. You change the subject.

"Did you take her temp?"

He nods, and the number he tells you is the same as it was thirty minutes ago, or rather, thirty minutes before he came home.

Ari squeezes you tighter. "You want to get into bed, and I'll bring your some juice and meds, huh? Meet you in there?"

"I'm a bad mom," you breathe.

"What?" He pulls away, smacking his head on the wall behind him. "What are you talking about?"

How are there more tears left in your body? You should be nothing but a shriveled husk at this rate.

"Bullshit," he practically seethes. "Don't you ever say that again."

"I shouldn't have--"

"Stop."

"--you were--"

"Stop it," he blurts, firm and serious.

"But I'm the one who wanted this, Ari!" Your most powerful voice only comes out as high whisper. "Me. I wanted kids. This whole time. I bitched about how Joanna's done, and I thought I could just--" you swing an arm out dramatically "--and I suck at it. Rach even likes you better!"

"No, kid. She was exhausted. I only got here at the right time."

"It's 'cause your comfy and you smell good--"

"--not sure about that--"

"--and she loves you," you bemoan.

Ari snorts out a laugh.

"She loves you, too. You're her mom." He tucks you in closer, soothing you with petting hands wherever he can reach. "I love you. So much. So, so much."

He finds your hand and the sapphire ring he put on it, spinning it gently on your finger. He hasn't gotten to make good on his promise. Planning a wedding, even a small one, with a newborn is almost impossible, but that seems to be part of the problem.

Anything to do with you or you two feels selfish when there's three. Guilt grips you when you stop to daydream about your big day because it's not about Rachel. She's the most important thing. She will trump you forever as the single most--

"Can I tell you a secret?" Ari's timbre rattles close to your ear. "You're my favorite."

You slump into his chest until your forehead braces his throat.

"Almost not fair, really," he drawls. "You've got a decade of brownie points, and she's managed to make me buy more pads for her than I've had to for y--"

You pinch at his side harshly, biting back a smile, the salt from dried tears on your lips flooding your mouth.

"Oh! And you can control your bladder for a whole day, which is downright impressive wh--hey now--" Ari scuttles on the floor to evade your attack on his ribs. "I'm just...being...honest," he chuckles.

"You're a jerk is what you are, old man."

He easily grabs both your arms and pins them together in front of him.

"Yeah, but I'm your jerk. Your old man, kid. I'm yours, okay? You are not alone here. You don't have to know how to do everything by yourself." He lowers his voice as well as his face to yours. "And you mean just as much to me as that little girl in there. You hear me?"

There's a different lump of emotion lodged deep in your chest. You only nod because you can't speak.

He makes your foreheads meet.

"Please be okay. I could never do this without you. Any of it..."

That's when you realize what bothers you so much: Ari should need you to raise Rachel, but you never truly acknowledged you might need him to raise her, too.

This enormous weight of clutching every thread of life in your own two hands isn't real. You can share. You are meant to share your life with Ari. Ari is meant to share his life with you. Rachel shares life with you both, as she is meant to share with everyone around her. It's a lesson she has the opportunity to learn a lot younger than you, apparently.

He gets you to drink a whole bottle of water. He brings you some food and medicine while he handles some laundry and cleans out the day's bottles. He leads you with both hands to the bathroom, finally, and then gets you settled in bed.

As you fall asleep, you watch Ari take Rach's temperature again.

He lets out a silent cheer and holds his hand over her.

"High five?" he whispers. "No? It's fine. We'll work on that."

The last thing you see is Ari playfully lifting her from the basinet, sneaking out to the living room to enjoy a movie marathon, just for a little bit, snuggling together while he winds down for the night.

All that matters is she's safe and happy.

That, and of course, waking up in Ari's arms, listening to his slow breathing and Rachel's faster, baby huffs. You can handle anything because you made it through today and you have them.

[Ari's POV for this day]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81 @rogersbarber @yenzys-lucky-charm

[fereldanwench]

Can we see pics of your flame point cat? :D

YES, absolutely. :3

This is Ares! My husband adopted him at the end of 2007, shortly after we started dating, which means Ares is technically his, but it's a very minor technicality after 17 years. We think he was about a year old, give or take a few months, when we got him, so he's about 17-18 years old.

He's still very spry for an old guy (although his age is starting to make me worry but I don't wanna think about it 😭), and he's always been just the sweetest little buddy. He "pets" us back (taps us with his front paws when we're cuddling) and he loves nose rubs--Both husbando and I wear glasses, and Ares especially likes rubbing against the corners of our frames. He's very much a gentle giant type.

These pics are from the past year or so, and I'll drop some older ones of him as a youngin' under the cut.

Shortly after we got him--Such a baby face! And his pattern was pretty light at this point. You'll notice he gets darker as the pics progress.

We had an aquarium for a while, too--Best cat TV!

Fake gamer cat (he doesn't even have opposable thumbs!!)

himst touch :3

Loves his sunshine and napping with his daddy

Not sure about the new addition (my bb girl Athena, adopted in 2012)

Okay, she's fine

And just a random assortment from the past several years:

[excusemejb]

Lamelo Ball imagine-

Summary: Naomi signs her little brother up for the big brother club, but is intrigued by her brother’s mentor.

"You're going to be fine" she reassured while fixing Nalo's collar. How did you fold your collar inside out? She thought to herself in pure confusion.

Looking back up she notices the anxious look on her brother's face. "Nalo they are going to love you, someone in there will be so excited to have you as a little brother okay"? He nods and straightens up.

"I'll be back in two hours and we'll go grab food at Inizio Pizza". "INIZIO PIZZA?!" Nalo squeals excitedly. "Only if you give this big brother thing a try" she said trying to persuade him.

"I should've known there was a catch" Nalo says as he walks into the building. "I love you too" Naomi says breathlessly from laughing.

He just turns around and smiles.

That's my boy.

•<3<3<3•

Lamelo sat on the bleachers as he mindlessly scrolls through twitter waiting for pairings to start. When he hears a small voice yell "That's too easy!".

He looks up to see a kid absolutely dominating the basketball court, obviously too talented for his competition. He posts a tweet and waits until they are done then he approached him.

"You was out there going crazy man!" Melo says as he puts his hand on the young boy's shoulder.

The kid turns around and his eyes widen. Melo smiles in amusement and says "what's your name?" "I'm Nalo Pierce" reaching his hand out to shake.

"Maybe I can teach you some moves." Melo scoffs "teach ME some moves?! okay show me something".

Nalo starts to dribble the ball while Melo lazily defends not taking him seriously. Which causes Nalo to go in for the layup. Melo laughs "Okay youngin, my ball".

Melo starts to dribble the ball up the court when Nalo comes in and steals the ball causing a turnover. He then runs to the three point line to bank in a three while doing his head tap celebration at Melo.

This kid is hilarious.

Melo does his high pitched scream while laughing hysterically. Nalo comes over smirking ready to tell him off but they are interrupted by the organizer.

"How's it going over here?" asked Brian. "Great, just getting to know my little brother" Melo says looking down smiling at Nalo. Nalo glanced down bashfully as Brian walks away.

"Little brother?" he asks. Melo's face contorts from confusion to realization when he blurts out "I just assumed you'd want to pair with me, if you don't it's fine it's really up to-". "I'd like that", Nalo says calmly.

Bro pulling my heart strings I don't like it.

Clearing his throat, Melo grabs the ball and says "1v1?".

"Are you sure you can handle it cus I gave you the business earlier" Nalo taunts.

"Mannn you got lucky, I wasn't even trying" Melo said as he kissed his teeth.

"Of course that's what happened" Nalo sarcastically says grabbing the ball from Melo getting into position.

What have I gotten myself into?

•<3<3<3•

Naomi rushes into the recreation center to pick up Nalo. Walking through the zig zags of the hall gets too confusing as she rushes past every door until she sees a gym.

She peeks through the glass to see Nalo and a man sitting on basketballs with their backs turned toward her. She gently opens the door and walks in slowly hoping to surprise her brother. As she approaches she picks up on their conversation.

"-yeah so now I'm in Charlotte like you, playing basketball, having fun, and I'm getting pizza later. Life's good you know what I mean?" She heard Nalo say.

The guy laughs before replying "yeah, I know what you mean".

"I know what you mean too" Naomi announces. Turning around quickly Nalo runs to her and gives her the biggest hug known to man. "You're late.." he says expecting an answer. "Sorry the meeting went a little longer than expected" she says turning her attention to the man waiting patiently.

"I really hope he wasn't too much trouble he can be a handful sometimes" Naomi says apologetically. "Oh not at all but he's quite the trash talker" Melo laughs.

"Oh don't get me started I already know" Naomi dismisses.

They share a laugh before shaking hands. "Naomi Pierce, the sister". "Lamelo Ball, the mentor".

Looking up at him she admires his features, his handsome features. The eyes. The smile. Those lips... Snapping out of her thoughts as his tongue licks his lips. "You're really tall" she said hoping he didn't see her checking him out.

"I'm a professional basketball player the height helps, I taught this one here all he knows" he said pointing to Nalo jokingly. "More like I taught you" Nalo said not even bothering to glance up from his phone.

Naomi and Melo burst out into laughter, as they sobered up Naomi says "It was nice meeting you Lamelo".

"It was nice meeting you too...very nice" not even trying to be subtle as he looks her up and down.

Oh he's bold.

Nalo daps him up and walks towards the exit. "The pizza isn't going to eat itself come on" he says impatiently.

"Okay okay I'm coming, impatient creature!". Naomi replies while speed walking towards the exit. Almost there she turns and waves goodbye to Melo. He waves back but her car alarm starts to blare the culprit being Nalo.

"If he doesn't show up to big brother's club one day don't wonder why" she says running out of the gym.

Melo laughs before shaking his head and turning around to put up shots.

[cuttlefish-cabin]

*a letter arrives for captain cuttlefish* 'Dear captain, i hope this letter reach's you and you have been doing well. none of us can seem to catch a break, right? but no matter... i wish to meet up, informally. just for a nice chat over a cup of tea. should you accept i hope you are fine with marie accompanying me out of translation needs. i do hope to hear back at your earliest convenience. -YAC3 (yet another agent 3)' -@ask-av-agents

"Hmm whats this" Craig asked walking out the cabin. "Oh! its adressed to me! is it 'Tav.... Oh" He frowns before opening it and reading it "Something something 3? but why would Marie need to translate? ehhhh this is garbage then I suppose. Ughh time to whip out the old scribe and quil!"

"3! What a Pleasure Of course I'd love a cup of tea with you why not tell me in person though? dont'cha still live with that youngin octarian 8? anyways I'll pull out the fancy china if thats what you wanted Till we meet again squiddo!<3

Best regards,

Gramps. AKA Captain Cuttlefish " The Letter is written in cursive with a little doodle of himself as a squid and a grumpy DJ octavio

[withlovegvf]

west coast baby | Jake Kiszka

jake kiszka x fem!reader

summary: Jake sees how at home you are at the beach in your small coastal hometown.

jakes pov

"Stop looking at me like that." Yn throws her sugar packet wrapper in my face and I flinch. "What I can't admire my girlfriend? That's rude." I laugh and yn rolls her eyes. "You can look at me all you want. But not like that. It makes me blush."

"What way am I looking at you!?!" Yn smiles and take a sip of her iced coffee. "You're looking at me like 'Ugh I just love you so much' and you're not allowed to. It makes me blush." I smile and grab her hand across the table. "Oh but what if that is the whole point?" yn slaps my hand.

Our food comes and we start talking about what we want to do after brunch. "Well I wanna go to this thrift store owned by this really nice old man named Frank to see what he has. Then I wanna go swimming at the beach for a bit. Does that sound good baby?" I nod, rubbing my thumb over her hand I grabbed again. "Yeah that's fine with me. I need some new pirate apparel. Does Frank have some of that?" Yn give me a big smirk. "Oh for sure" We giggle and after we finish eating we pay and go to the convertible we rented for the week. I open yn's door for her with a peck to her cheek then go to the drivers side.

As we drive down the beautiful California coast, my hand is resting on yns thigh and she rests her hand on top of mine. Sex on Fire by Kings of Leon comes on and yn holds her hands up in the wind with her hair blowing, belting the lyrics. Yn loves Nashville but seeing her be her carefree, sunkissed, beach girl she is at heart when we come to visit her home is like nothing else.

Once we get to 'Franks Coastal Finds' I help Yn out of the front seat and walk hands intertwined into the front door. "Awh whattaday it is at Franks! Ms. Yn has come to visit her favorite old man! How are you darling." Yn lets go of me and gives the man I assume is Frank a big hug. Frank is a super tall, beer bellied man with a big beard and a bright red Hawaiian shirt on. "Hi Frankie it is so good to see you. Frank this is Jake, my boyfriend." Frank looks at me and holds a hand out me. I give it a firm shake. "Nice to meet you Jake. You treatin my Yn right?" I nod "Of course. Nothing but the best for my girl."

Frank nods his head. "Attaboy, that's what I like to hear. Well you two take a look around. See if any of my junk speaks to you" We laugh and start looking around. I'm looking through his tables of small trinkets while yn looks though his racks of women's clothing. I found a small trinket pirate ship that is super cool and yn found a few skirts and tops.

"Y'all ready to check out?" "Yes sir." I set all our stuff on the counter and Frank checks is out. As he is typing our purchases in the very old cash register, Frank asks, "What is your plan for the rest of the day youngins?" "well I wanna go to crystal cove for a bit before the sun starts going down so I'll think we will go there." yn says as she picks up our bag of stuff. "Alrighty! you guys have fun ya hear?" Yn smiles waving behind her as she walks out the door. "Bye Frank!"

We get into the car and I say, "Well he was a really nice guy." Yn nods her head. "Yeah Frank is the sweetest. You ready to go swimming for a bit? Get that suit under your clothes wet?" I nod, rolling my eyes at her comment and start driving to the Crystal Cove place yn wanted to go to. "Jake don't be such fun sucker. We'll have fun i promise." I look at her and wiggle my eyebrows in a flirty way. "Oh yeah, you promise?" Yn hits my arm and giggles at my comment.

Once we get to the beach we park and find the perfect spot on the sand and set up our stuff. The sun is about to set so the sky is gorgeous. "Come on baby let's get in." Yn let me sunbathe for about twenty minutes but now she's tugging my arm towards the water. I groan and drop all my body weight so she can't lift me up. "Baby pleaseeeee." "Ugh fine, fine, fine!" I stand up and yn start jumping up and down from excitement and wraps her arms around my neck. "Yay! let's go baby!" Yn holds my hand as i trail behind her into the water.

Once we reach the water i stay up by the coast with just my feet in and yn is floating on her back farther out. The water is cool and calm just how she likes it. Seeing her in this tiny town that is her home that she loves so much reminds me how much she means to me. I never want to miss these trips with her and i never wanna experience any of life without her. "Get in babe! the water is perfect!" I smile and walk over to her. She's still floating and I stand over her and just look down at her.

"Hey who turned off the sun?!" She take her sunglasses off and opens her eyes. "Oh, look who decided to join me." I smile and lean down and peck her lips. "What was that for?" She smiles, "Nothing. I just love you and seeing you so at home." Yn smiles and stands up wrapping her arms around my neck.

"I love you too ya big sap!"

.....

Ugh sorry i haven't been putting out as many updates as I was a few weeks ago but I'm working on it! also i feel like struggle writing long imagines like some like my attention span cannot...anyways i'll try harder to write longer ones!

-withlovegvf

[abandonedpie]

Hello! Good afternoon or morning! My youngin self had been driving by the Tumblr posts when I stumbled upon your old (?) Story called The Sleepless Wake. It was amazing if I have to say so myself, but I saw that you've made a post disclaiming that you won't continue the series, and the reason was Fresh's characterization. I wanted to ask some help on that too, what did you find that made fresh ooc? Im also writting a story myself with Fresh as the main character, but I trusted myself that I knew enough or too much about him, but when I read your story and said 'Hey they write fresh the same way as I do!' and then reading your post about discounting the story? Yeah you can tell I was confuse but I was also very interested.

I also like to write characters who aren't mine as close as their canon characteristic. Sometimes adding a bit of my own headcanon in. So I'm just a writer, an author to a fanfic story asking another person who has written Fresh and realize their failures, what have you discovered?

-lots of love, Anon

Hi! Sure thing, I'll share my experience and understanding of the matter—just keep in mind that it's been over a year since I read through TBD and even longer since I've written Fresh at all. I'm still no expert on his character.

The core of what I bungled is, I'd say, Fresh's moral compass. He has a strong sense of right and wrong, what is "rad" and "unrad," and simply put, he wouldn't make many of the choices he does in TSW.

The situation in the story is a complicated one. Addiction and grief are complicated. People are complicated. There is an argument to be made that the upheaval Fresh goes through would deeply change him, change anyone, and also that the desperate need for sleep (and other effects of sleep deprivation) can make someone do stupid or reckless things. Not to mention he's a teenager in this story, so genius or not, he's still developing in many ways. Part of me still believes it's understandable, still clings to these justifications for writing him making such choices, and that part is correct to some degree. No one is perfect. Everyone makes mistakes. But when Fresh makes a mistake, he does his best never to make it again.

Guilt is Fresh's central emotion. I got that part down pretty well, but I didn't apply it widely enough, or in the right direction. That is, he would feel horribly guilty for straying from his code and try to set himself right, get back on the correct path, even if it means his own suffering. For instance, he would choose to face withdrawal symptoms rather than abuse medication. His guilt doesn't lead to more mistakes. It pushes him to be a better person. Put another way, if he started to slide down the slippery slope, he would catch himself and try to climb back to the top.

On a more personal note, I'm now trying to let go of the feeling that I have to write characters as close to canon as possible. Yes, I want to respect canon, particularly the parts that make me love a character or story to begin with, but it. Is. Impossible. To write someone else's character with perfect accuracy. Yes, you can analyze them and do your best. If you succeed, most people won't see a difference. But fan fiction isn't about replicating or mirroring canon. At least, that's not what I want my fanfic writing to be about.

I know I'm rambling, but I can see this a lot more clearly with my current WIP. There are a lot of things in its canon that I dislike, which isn't something I commonly can say about stories/series I consider myself a fan of. So with any and all of my fanfic of this series, I want to respect and incorporate the aspects that I do like or maybe am neutral about, and feel free to disregard the parts I don't like or don't want to include in my writing, even if that makes the characters OOC. It doesn't even necessarily mean that I dislike all those parts of canon, or that I would want the canon to change. I'm not writing to correct or improve (though it's fine to use fanfic to write how you want canon to be). I'm writing to explore and express my own ideas and feelings, which are too connected to an existing story for me to easily turn them into an original one.

Am I essentially writing canon-flavored OCs rather than the actual canon characters? To some extent, sure, maybe. Don't people read fanfic to see more of the characters they love, with the personalities they have in canon? Yeah, I'm sure most do. They don't have to like or agree with my interpretations or alternate versions of these characters. Others might! Since you can't please every reader anyway, you may as well write it the way you want, whatever way makes you happy and satisfies your creativity. Canon is a suggestion! Inspiration! A box of potential! Fanfic is your story, your take, your vision, so don't limit it any more or less than you personally want to.

With that tangential advice aside, I hope my limited insight into Fresh helps you. Good luck with your writing!

[kairose]

Straight Outta Hell

Short TW: Nightmares, hallucinations, and screaming equivalent to a panic attack

Chapter 1: A Visit to the Doctor

My hands were folded as I waited impatiently for the teacher to finish her lesson. She was an alright teacher, pretty chill with the class, but would take a long time explaining her topics. I glanced up at the clock, realizing I wouldn't have all that much time. Finally, the school bells rang. I quickly gathered my school belongings and placed them neatly in my backpack. I zipped it back up and flung the bag's strap over my right shoulder.

"Dude, where are you off to in such a hurry?" I look over my shoulder to see my good buddy Louis walking up to me.

"I need to pick up Malory and take her to a doctor's appointment." I pause to look down at the time on my phone. "Which is in about 15 minutes."

Louis looks up to the side, staring at the ceiling as if pondering something. He then looks back at me. "What about later today? We still hanging around?"

"After the appointment, we'll go home. You could come at the original time we planned." Before I could even give him a heads up I made my way to the door. Louis scurries behind me, grabbing his books and placing them in his bag before zipping it up and placing it on his back. "Well, then I'll walk with you to her class for a while!" Louis shouted from behind, catching up with me.

I made my way to Malory's classroom, zooming through the halls. The two of us chatted as we made our way to Malory's classroom. Louis occasionally fell behind before running to catch up with me. I paid it no mind, only having one goal: retrieve Malory and get to the doctor. I waited in front of the door before knocking on it. Louis stood by me before waving at me, "See you later then, man!" I simply nodded at him, "Yeah, see you." I glanced at Louis watching as he walked in the direction of the school's front doors, hastily on his way out.

I turned my attention back to Malory's classroom door, turning the doorknob, and I entered the class. As I entered some of the young kids looked up at me, eyes glued. "Rue? Are you here for Malory?" Malory's homeroom teacher asked, now turning to me.

"Yes, that's right, for her appointment," I responded. After scanning the room my eyes landed on Malory, who was packing her bag. She stands up and then walks up to me.

"Bye-bye, everybody!" Malory shouted before I placed my hand on her back, guiding her out of the room. The teacher called goodbye as we exited, then resumed her lesson, the classmates turning their attention back to the teacher. I grabbed Malory's hand and started to run with her towards the exit of the school. Our school bags made loud justling sounds as the books were thrown about inside. The school's doors were luckily wide open and we dashed out.

"C'mon! We've got to hurry! You're lucky the building is near-" I shouted aloud before realizing I wasn't paying close attention to what was in front of me, and collided with an elderly woman. She held a small brown package that ended up getting flung a short distance. We both tumbled, hitting the concrete ground with a loud thud. Malory, who only ran behind me due to her stubby legs, walked up to the elderly woman. Worried for the elderly woman, she reached out to her, helping her up. She shakily stood back up with his assistance, then glared at me.

"You youngins ought to watch where you go!" She declared, kneeling back over to pick up the small brown package, picking it up. She placed her wrinkly hand on her back, rubbing it like it was aching, her other arm tenderly carrying the package. She then cradled the package as if it were some small newborn baby.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. We're in a hurry to the doctor, and I just wasn't paying attention. Are you alright?" I apologized, hoping we were in the clear, and that the woman's condition wasn't serious.

"Bah!" She grumbled. "Fine! 'M fine!"

"You're not injured, are you?" Malory quickly asked, concern apparent in her voice. She seemed worried after the elderly woman soothingly rubbed her back.

"I'm fine... And so is this." She held the package in front of us as if declaring to us that whatever was inside was more important than her own life.

"Uh- Well, okay... Sorry again, we'll be on our way then." I intervened, bowing as a slight apology.

She glared at me before nodding her head. We walked away from her as she headed in the opposite direction. Malory and I then broke into a sprint again, dashing to the doctor's office.

—-

I sat respectively as the doctor examined Malory. Malory was always a worry wart when it came to doctors. However, she felt comforted by the sheer fact I was in the same room. Our parents were always busy with work, so I would take care of Malory most of the time. Luckily for me, I didn't mind, and we were both mature enough to care for ourselves.

"Well, she's healthy. What you had told me when you scheduled this appointment, I'll prescribe some medicine for better sleep." The doctor said, turning to me, signaling he was finished.

"Thank you, sir."

He then turned to his computer, typing up the results of Malory's appointment. Looking to his side he then wrote down the name of the medicine he would prescribe to Malory. "Hand this to the people up front, and they'll give you the prescribed medicine. Every night just before bed she should take them, and after a while, she may not need them anymore."

"Thank you again, sir." I took the paper note from his hand and held Malory's hand. "And if they continue again?"

"I recommend coming back here, then possibly searching for someone she could talk to about her restless sleeping." The doctor responded, grabbing a flip chart, and walking us out of the room before taking another patient.

The two of us went up front. I handed the note our doctor wrote to the woman sitting at the front desk, who then went elsewhere, fetching us Malory's pills. She handed it to me with a solemn smile, "Thank you for visiting." I waved and the two of us walked out.

The crisp autumn air kissed my skin as I walked out, Malory's right hand holding my left, her palm almost sweaty. "That wasn't so bad... Yeah?"

Malory looked up at me, slightly nodding her head. "Yeah..."

A silence filled the air as we walked toe-in-toe back to our house. I would occasionally look around like I usually did, appreciating the scenery. The one-story flats and their beige colors. Occasionally some brighter colors like blue or yellow. Eventually, Malory had enough of the awkward silence and she cleared her throat, "Do you think the nightmares will go away?"

I focused my attention back on my younger sister, "Mal, of course. I think they'll go away."

"But what if tonight they get worse? I hate how they end. Mom and Dad are never there, but you are... And- and it always..." She began to work herself up, unable to finish her complex thoughts. Her train of thought was lost, ditched away.

"Mal..." I began. I let go of her hand and walked up in front of her, placing my hands on her shoulders to get her to look me in the eyes. "They'll go away. And if they don't, I'll do what I can to help you." I spoke sternly, causing her eyes to look all misty.

Chuckling I gave her knog-in, messing her hair up, "Now stop feeling frightened." Malory shoved my hand away, mispleased I messed up her hair again. "Brother!-" She started but just giggled.

"Come on. Let's go home. Okay?" I held out my left hand again, and she happily took it. The two of us continued on our way back, pleased with the pleasant atmosphere: the falling orange and red leaves, and the chill wind.

—-

As soon as we arrived home our mother greeted us with dinner freshly prepared. It smelled delightful. A classic dish of spaghetti with meatballs, and a vegetable salad as the side. Our father took his share before returning to his room, telling us not to bother him as he had an online meeting. Before we could all sit down to eat a knock on the door was heard. I figured Louis was here now. I had invited him for dinner, but also to have a sleepover. We planned on watching some horror films late in the night, and I told him it would be best to do it at my house as my parents would be too busy to care.

I walked up to the front, unlocking and opening it. Louis casually walked in, embracing me in his iconic bear hug. "Hey! Glad to see you again!" He cheerfully exclaimed. "I hope Malory's appointment went well."

"Don't worry it was fine." I guided him through the house after he set his things aside in the living room. "You made it on time since dinner is all finished too."

Louis and I then pulled out a chair and everyone began to serve themselves or each other. We all began feasting, my mom explaining how it was nice to see Louis again after a while. We talked about school for some time, including some random drama, and then whatever the conversation led us to. It was a pretty chill and relaxing environment. I noticed how Malory seemed pleased with everything, possibly due to how she didn't need to worry about the nightly horrors she could encounter. The moment everyone finished their meals my mom and I worked to clean the dining room table. We both scrubbed the dishes a bit clean before inserting them into the dishwasher to finish the job. My mother then excused herself and went back into her room.

"So, are we ready?" Louis teasingly asked, his eyebrows wiggling mischievously.

"Ready for what?" Malory intervened.

"No, not now. Malory, we're going to stay up watching films, but I don't want you down here."

"Huh? Why not? I wanna watch with you then!"

"Malory, we're watching horror. Just go to your room." I pointed in the direction I wanted her to leave, but she stubbornly pouted, refusing my proposal. "Rue, that's not fair! And you can't watch horror."

I rolled my eyes, "We're old enough. Come on!" Annoyed with my sister I picked her up, tumbling a bit from her weight, and carried, practically dragging her to her room. Louis watched this unfurl from the sidelines. "Rue, why are you so against her watching them? I'm sure she'd be fine."

"I don't want her nightmares getting worse. They're already bad as is." I responded, letting go of Malory. She plopped down on her knees before standing up straight on her feet.

"I'm not a baby. I'll leave if it's too scary." She said, a flare in her eyes.

"I agree, you should let her. If it's too much we take a breather, and Malory can decide whether we should continue or stop." Louis added, making my head swirl. I looked at Malory, a pleading and flared look in her eyes, while Louis smiled solemnly at me, shrugging his shoulders as if to indicate 'Why not?' I took a deep breath and sighed, "Fine. But let us know when it's too much..."

Malory smiled, happy she seemed to have won. She then gave me a brief hug and ran ahead of Louis and I to the living room. Louis smiled at me, pleased that there was no fighting or hurt feelings. He was always too kind. I chuckled, forming a fist and tapping his shoulder, "It's your fault too if she ends up traumatized. You picked the movies, remember?"

"Yeah, I guess I did, but I don't think they'll be too much. Just a couple jump scares."

"Pfft-! We'll see," I simply retort. The three of us began to set up the films. Louis and I also set up areas for us to sleep at, Malory would return to her room once we turned the film off. I promised to stay with her for some time after the film if it had been too much to ease her mind, hopefully making her forget the movie's contents. She of course agreed.

The time for the film was underway. Louis and Malory came out from the kitchen holding bowls of popcorn while I set up the TV, typing the name of the film Otherworldly into the search bar for Prime. Once everyone was settled down I clicked on the film and let it play. The TV projected a cold blue color, and the eerie music played as companies and people were introduced. After this, it began to play. Malory scoots close to me, seemingly intrigued by the film already.

As the plot and characters were introduced we chowed down on popcorn, the atmosphere chilling. The plot seemed messy as of now, but I had hoped everything would make sense by the end.

Time seemed to pass as the film revealed its contents, introducing the horrors and unwinding the plot. Somehow well-written for a movie on a budget. Malory grabbed onto the sleeve of my pajamas, her hands quivering. She had been doing well thus far, but now the film seemed to be giving her anxiety. About 32 minutes in she had mentioned how the entities reminded her of the ones in her nightmare.

Malory opened her mouth slightly ready to speak to me. However, one of the demon-like entities jumped and scared everyone in the room, shrieking and jumping at a side character.

"AUGH-! Pause! Okay, I can't handle this-" Malory squealed. We were at the very least 45 minutes into the film when Malory surrendered to her real emotions.

Malory whimpered as I moved to the TV remote and paused the film. "Okay, it's alright. No more..."

I walked back over to her holding out my hand to her, "We can wait in your room for a while... Watch something stupid, yeah?" Malory looked at me, small tears in her eyes. She simply nodded at me.

I turned to face Louis for a moment, "Sorry man, this might take a while."

"It's fine." He responded, with a small court smile. "You must care for your family."

I nodded and then Malory and I headed back into her room with her. I brought my phone hoping I could ease her anxiety by watching something stupid, keeping her mind away from the contents of the film. Malory sat on her bed covering her legs with her fluffy pink blanket. To her side was her comfort plush bunny, which she picked up and hugged. "You think I'm a baby, don't you?" She asked me, looking down at her plushie.

I turned my attention to her in shock. "Mama and Papa think so too. I know they do because I interrupt work time..." She continued, looking vulnerable and lost. I motioned for her to look at me, shaking my head, "No, that's not right. You're no burden. It's difficult to help with these nightmares and hallucinations when we don't even know the cause, but you're not a burden. We want to help you, I want to help, Malory. Okay?"

Malory stared at me, her face squinty and her mouth frowning. She looked like she'd start wailing. "Malory, you'll be honest to me about how you feel from now on, right? You don't need to push yourself to look all cool." She nodded slightly, causing me to smile comfortingly. "You can always talk to me about what you see and what happens in your dreams, okay? I won't push you away, and I'll listen."

"Okay..." She half whispered. "Thank you, Rue. Love you..."

"I love you too."

Malory laid herself down and seemingly surrendered to sleep. Her anxieties and worries were gone for the day after our small talk. I smiled at her sleeping so peacefully in what felt like forever. I walked away from her bedside and walked to Malory's bedroom door. I peeked one last time at her sleeping form before shutting the door and returning to Louis in the living room.

The two of us stayed up late, watching the rest of our films in silence. We both went to bed at around 2:34 AM, but were briefly awoken by shrieking I had never heard before from Malory's room at 4:44 AM. Until the sun arose, I stayed up by Malory's side as she kept whispering how she didn't want me to go, and that she wished for me to stay alive.

Previous…

The next chapter…

[bullseye-stoddard]

Though the passing of time had not dimmed Bullseye's memories of his youth, it had made them seem rather inconsequential. Not that he did not cherish them; it was the only time in his life that he had been truly happy, and he would always savor what little time he had had with his parents. But now that the world had changed so much, he had figured that no one from this modern era would be too interested in hearing about a time when things had been much, much simpler. "I don' mind tellin' at all. Guess I jus' figured it wouldn't be all that interestin' t' anyone today, bein' as things were so different. I mean, I'm livin' in a tiny apartment these days, an' yet it ain't all that smaller than th' house my pa built, th' one all three o' us had t' share. That was prob'ly why I liked t' spend a lotta time outside in th' fields. A lot more space t' breathe out there. But really, it weren't all that bad. I loved livin' out in the open spaces, helpin' out wit' th' animals, learnin' how t' tend th' farm." Glancing down somberly at his hat, he added, "Certainly was th' happiest time I'd ever known in my whole long life." Looking back up at Paul, he said, "Th' thing is, I didn't get t' be a kid for very long. Prob'ly why I look back on that time so fondly. My pa, well, let's just say his past finally caught up t' him, an' I lost both him an' ma when I was still pretty young, an' I had t' strike out on my own when I still knew precious li'l 'bout th' world." Bullseye gave a rueful smile. "That's prob'ly why I got taken in by, well, a different bunch who weren't all th' righ' sort o' people. Think I was jus' too young an' clueless t' know I shoulda done better." He shook his head, not having reminisced like this to anyone other than Jessie. "Sorry, you don' need t' hear all my ol' sob story. I'd much rather talk 'bout th' youngin's doin' th' Grand Prix. They've got way more o' a bright future, an' good for 'em. Glad t' know things have gotten better these days." Of course he knew things were not all better, but many things had improved since his younger days, so Bullseye could only see that as a good thing. "Ah, so he is a friend o' yours. He's, well, he's interestin'." Bullseye might have thought differently about Lightning if he had not dropped in again. Now, he had a somewhat better opinion of the guy. But he himself could not deny it was a little hard to get used to life in town, even though he felt that way for very different reasons. "Well, he's got some questionable ideas, but I can't fault him for adjustin'. It's been kinda hard for me too. But where he's havin' a hard time not having people watchin' him, I'm havin' a hard time with people doin' that very thing." In response to Paul's assumption, Bullseye gave a shrug. "Honestly, I don'. You know way more'n me. I'd been livin' alone for over a century, tryin' t' hide myself away from th' world. I don' know anythin' 'bout what's been goin' on wit' vampire society for th' last century, much less what else's been goin' on in th' rest o' th' Magick world. But, wait. You sayin' you competed in this Magic Grand Prix thing? Well you've got t' tell me all 'bout it, then!" He had gotten the impression Paul knew about it, but he must have missed the part where he had actively been involved. Bullseye definitely wanted to know more about that, completely fascinated to think that someone could actually use their supernatural talents for something like that, instead of trying to hide away like he had. "Oh no, it's ok. I'll admit I was a li'l annoyed th' first time, 'cause I felt like he jus' wanted t' use th' horses as props for his own purposes. But he made a fair bit o' amends by comin' back an' askin' a more worthwhile question. So whatever use he's got for th' haybales, long as he's not doin' it jus' for himself, that's fine by me."

@doc-hudson

Well, the comment about the other finding cooking, even if it meant not being able to taste the food, kind of fun made Paul glad, made him give a content sigh before smiling right back at the other man as he served himself some of the whiskey.

Now, Doc was perfectly aware that their situations weren't exactly the same, but he did find some relief anyways when hearing that the feeling they were talking about was kind of universal, that the tiredness that the passing of time was something not even vampires were immune to and, on the contrary, was something they were actually pretty familiar with.

And the comment made him wonder, too...

"How were things back then? Back when you were a kid, I mean" he asked, then pausing for a second to add a: "if you don't mind tellin', that is"

Bullseye was- had been an actual cowboy, for crying out loud! And Doc had been a cowboy-adoring kid once, so asking was...well, he couldn't pass the opportunity to ask about it.

'-but I'll be sure t' invite you when t' time comes for th' real big number.'

Paul chuckled at that, had to take a moment to drink from his glass in order to avoid making a joke about him probably being too old by then -because such a comment would probably just sour the mood and, to be completely frank, he'd much rather not think too far ahead, for the uncertainty of the future (of sixteen years whole fucking years) was...something that was kind of scary, something he'd rather not think too much about.

Hell, his bad everything leg acted up every now and then now, at fifty-fucking-five, he couldn't possibly imagine how problematic that would become when/if he turned seventy one.

This one a pretty surreal of a conversation: for one of them could speak of centuries of life without the inconveniences of aging, while the other was so very painfully mundane and respected (read: was bound to and feared) the process of natural aging. They could bond over years passed, sure, but there would always be this big gap between them that would linger in the background.

Hah! and to think that during their first meeting Paul had spoken to Bullseye as he were an average young'un!

Now, about the other thing... Paul tilted his head as he heard Bullseye's story about Lightning and his reaction to his apparent change of heart -which made his chest swell with something similar to pride.

"Yeah, that idiot 's a friend of mine" he said with a shrug and the crooked smile of someone that had just taken a sip of whiskey "he's had a bit of a hard time gettin' used to Town and life after stardom"

He paused, then chuckled.

"Relative stardom, that is. You must know the story of the Magic Grand Prix better than I do and how it is a niche thing 'nstead of an actual big thing" he said, shaking his glass a little all the while "Hell, chances are that you are more familiar with him than I am, since I hadn't hear a thing 'bout the Magic Grand Prix ever since I retired from it"

"Retired".

"I don't know what he needed the hay bales for, though" he admitted "the only use my old coach would give 'em was throwing 'em at me while I ran behind his truck, to work on my reflexes and such, but I doubt Lightning or Cruz would do such a thing to the kids on the- ah, there's this University Program related to the Grand Prix, you see, that's who he wanted to help, methinks. He's probably feelin' creative and whatnot...'nyways, 'm sorry you had to deal with him durin' one of his self-aggrandizin' moments, he's actually a good kid -he's just a little bit stupid"

@bullseye-stoddard

[sleepless-translation]

Phantom Troupe Drama CD English Translation-Track 12

CD : HUNTER×HUNTER～Next Episode Scene 3 幻影旅団 (Link)

Track 12. おじいちゃん,おばあちゃんを大事にしよう “Let's take good care of the elderly!” starts at 41.23

Disclaimer:

This is a fun bonus content from the 1999 anime that I decided to translate because I want others to enjoy it too (´꒳`)♡ Do note that some of the characters might act in an unusual comedic manner.

Summary:

Shalnark, Phinks and Feitan are helping an old lady to get to her destination. This is right before they meet the rest of the troupe in the hotel. (The origin of the Mooncake Trio.)

[Feitan] Finally we got off. Train too crowded. I hate. 

[Phinks] What’s the hotel called again? 

[Shalnark] It’s Beitacle Hotel. I think it’s that way.

[Old lady] Excuse me. Which way is the Ivone mansion??

[Shalnark] Huh? Are you talking to me?

[Phinks] Sorry, Granny. But we’re not from around here. You should ask someone else.

[Feitan] Get out of here or I make you suffer.

[Shalnark] Hey, don’t threaten her. She's just an old lady, you know.Grandma, we apologize, but we really don’t know.

[Old lady] It's right across from the Beitacle hotel. Didn’t you just point that way?

[Shalnark] Ah! Haha.

…

[Feitan] So, why Shal carrying granny on his back?

[Old lady]. I’m sorry for the trouble.

[Shalnark] It would take more time if we walk together.

[Feitan] Better if she manipulated with black voice.

[Shalnark] I can’t do that!

[Phinks] Geez. Shal can kill someone without batting an eye, yet he’s oddly generous.

[Feitan] You one to talk with the bags in your hands. Who you fooling?

[Phinks] I couldn't just leave Shal to do all the work. But, I didn't think I'd actually carry these.

[Feitan] If you no want, just say so.

[Phinks] If I did, would it change anything?

[Feitan] Better if I cut granny’s head off. No need manipulation.

[Phinks] Cut it out! Why are you always so quick to kill people?

[Feitan] Destroy nuisances, destroy obstacles. No other way.

[Shalnark] Haha~ Don’t say that. Helping out someone once in a while isn't a bad thing. The occasional philanthropic operations are also a part of the Troupe, right?

[Phinks] Well, we have to balance a little bit of our bad reputation with good deeds.

[Feitan] Can our bad reputation... cancel out with just this?

[Phinks] Hahaha! Makes sense!

[Feitan] Why you laughing? I not understand.

…

[Shalnark] I see. So you’re going to meet your grandson.

[Old lady]. It’s been 5 years so I'm very excited.

[Feitan] You becoming soft. Shal, you just like an ordinary guy.

[Phinks] You appear like a fine young man.

[Shalnark] I'll take that as a compliment.

[Old lady]. No, no. It’s not only about appearance. Your friends are also fine young men. That one over there even with his unfriendly look, he’s quite a nice person too.

[Phinks] Good for you. You got a compliment.

[Feitan] It not for me. It Phinks.

[Phinks] What are you saying? I’m not even close to looking unfriendly.

[Feitan] Not even close? but you the worst there is.

[Phinks] What does that mean?

[Shalnark] Come on. No quarrel between members of the troupe.

[Feitan] Phinks is the one out of control. I am calm.

[Phinks] Tch. This guy.

[Old lady]. Now, now. The young man with the narrow eyes is just acting tough. You are good friends with the two, right? Thank you.

[Feitan] If you want to live and meet your grandson, w-watch what you say.

[Shalnark] Oh~? Are you...embarassed?

[Phinks] It's not every day he’s praised.

[Feitan] Get moving.

[Shalnark] Alright. Here we are.

[Phinks] Here you go, Granny. Be careful with your belongings.

[Old lady]. Thank you very much. You guys really helped me. So sorry for the trouble.The least I could do is to give you these.

[Shalnark] No. There’s no need.

[Old lady]. It’s fine. Listen to the elderly.

[Phinks] Then, I’ll gladly take one.

[Old lady] Here, you too.

[Feitan] Me? I no do anything!

[Old lady] It’s alright. Just take it.

[Feitan] Fine.

[Shalnark] Well, we’ll get going!

[Old lady] Thank you very much, you youngins.

[Phinks] TIme to go. See you, Granny. So, what did she give us?

[Shalnark] This is some kind of sweets, right? Isn’t this what they call mooncakes?

[Feitan] She gave the troupe mooncakes as thank you. What a joke

[Phinks] It’s good enough, isn’t it? For an old lady, it's the best she could do.

[Shalnark] Let’s try one out.

[Phinks] *Munch* It's sweet! No good. It’s too sweet for me.

[Shalnark] Hmm. Sweet foods are not my thing either. Let’s just give them to Machi or Shizuku later.

[Phinks] Ah. Right.

[Feitan] *Gulp* It too sweet but...

[Shalnark] Hm?

[Feitan] ...it not bad.

════════ End of track ════════

TL Notes & Commentary:

The old lady actually called Phinks いかちい / 厳つい "rugged/stern look." Used to refer to someone with a scary face and seems unapproachable. And yes, Phinks was oblivious to the fact that he does look rather unfriendly.

It was really hard to purposely mess up Fei's grammar yet also make it sound adorable in a way, so I hope it turned out okay!

Mooncake trio in Japanese is 月餅トリオ

[fractualized]

Why do you think batjokes is such a good ship? Don’t get me wrong, I myself am a shipper, and I’ve recently wondered why i love this ship so much? I’ve also felt guilty about the fact that Jarley is obviously a toxic ship, so doesn’t that mean batjokes is a toxic ship too? What do you think? I’d love to know your opinion on the batjokes ship as a whole! 😁

Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, there's a lot to this question! Therefore my answer is loooooooong.

First off, I'll say right out: of course batjokes is a toxic ship. And that's fine! Being interested in intense interactions between two fictional characters is not unusual. Look at these two traumatized overgrown theater kids! They cannot healthily cope for the life of them! They are obsessed with each other! Most iterations cannot have a sustainable relationship! Who can look away from this trainwreck? The flames reach the sky and there are bodies everywhere!

Look, I am an Old, and I'll tell you that when I was a youngin', I shipped jarley. (Gasp!) But the toxicity isn't the reason I don't ship it anymore. It's because, even at the time, I acknowledged that Joker cared more about Batman than Harley. In the end, I personally found batjokes more compelling. That's the overall reason I've shipped either pairing: I found the narratives compelling— not because I see them as model relationships.

There's been a lot of talk asserting that if a person engages with toxic themes, they are supporting and endorsing toxic behavior, which is a wild thing to say. That's like saying everyone who enjoys horror movies must have no problem with murder. Toxic behavior in fictional characters is not a concern; toxic behavior by real people is a concern. It's not like people who consume only morality plays are never assholes. People are molded by more factors than fandom!

Feel guilty about actual bad things you do, not about exploring unwholesome relationships in fiction. Worry more about how people treat you in real life than about the intriguing interplay between two fake people.

And speaking of two fake people, let's move on to why batjokes is an enjoyable ship! (Oh yeah, flawless segue.)

Enemies to Lovers

Let's start with the basecoat: a hero and a villain being attracted to each other is one of the most obvious and clear-cut sources of tension you can have. They should feel nothing but loathing! But there's something about the other person that they don't want to let go of! There's so many possibilities for storytelling. What these two see in each other, the compromises they might make, the possibility that one might go to the other side… or sometimes nothing really changes and it's just hatefucking. But still: drama! Especially if other people find out. Yeesh.

Joker

The interest on Joker's side has always been more explicit. He enjoys challenging Batman and being chased by him. He not only regularly enjoys flirting with Batman, but goading the vigilante into physically dominating him, because Joker often enjoys pain. He also has selective self-preservation, particularly with how he'd be thrilled to be the person to break Batman's no-kill rule. Getting Batman to forget the supposed value of his principles is part of their conflict, after all.

And that conflict holds a lot of interest for me, Batman's belief that we can fight for a better world versus Joker's professed nihilism. Nothing really matters, Joker says, so Batman's fight is a big joke— except Joker's actions show that deep down he does not actually feel that way. It's not true that nothing matters when Batman means more to the Joker than anything. Joker is obsessed with proving his flawed point to Batman, and Batman bringing his family into their conflict elicits murderous jealousy. Sure, Joker has indicated that he sees other people as nothing more than shadows, but he still raises his encounters with Batman to the level of grand battles between archetypes, with huge performances for the whole city. Uh yeah, a whole lot matters to Joker. His whole "nothing matters" schtick is a giant "I WANT TO MATTER SO MUCH" neon sign.

And that sign flashes most at Batman, because Batman was there at the start, when an unknown crook in a red helmet fell into acid. There have been variations of this origin: Red Hood jumped in to escape Batman, he was dangling and Batman couldn't hold on, he purposely let go of Batman's hand… In any case, Batman spurred him from unknown to Absolutely Fucking Known.

Batman

Bruce is a bit harder to pin down. He's typically more reserved, except when he's being dramatic as hell to strike fear into criminals. Plus fighting criminality is his whole mission, to stop that awful night in Crime Alley from happening to anyone else. He should feel nothing but hate for Joker.

But Bruce, when he's written well (subjectivity alert!), is able to see criminals for more than their crimes. The best example of this is the Batman I grew up with in BTAS, which features multiple episodes that show him empathizing with villains. He throws plenty of punches, sure, but also wants to give people second chances. He sponsors rehabilitation efforts. He fights to stop mistreatment at Arkham. He pleads with villains to let him help. This is not just a soft-hearted thing. Preventing people from falling into crime, from using other people's wrongdoings as excuses to do more wrong, and from relapsing into villainous lives is perfectly in line with Batman's mission. It's practical. A superhero who is also an acclaimed detective is not going to ignore other effective methods for achieving his goal, even if compassion can be a struggle to maintain when you see so much of people at their worst.

And wow is Joker the biggest, most actively aware challenge to Bruce's compassion! Yet Bruce still tries to bring him in by the book and returns him to Arkham. He does not break his no-kill rule even when Joker openly provokes him. If Joker is mortally injured, Batman saves his life, including clearing Joker's name when he's wrongfully accused of murder and given the death penalty. Persevering through the worst odds is what Batman does, and I think that despite everything, even in the times when Bruce feels overwhelming hate for Joker, he retains a kernel of hope that some day, somehow, even the brutal jester might change. Batman can't give in and kill Joker, because then that chance is gone. Batman operates on the hope that he will make a difference, and he doesn't want to concede to no hope.

Oh, and the guilt! Can't forget that. (Bruce doesn't.) Batman wasn't able to stop Joker from falling into the acid, from going on to do so many terrible things, and he feels responsible. I think for him, killing Joker would also feel like eliding that responsibility, no matter what other people tell him.

Swinging back to empathy, it's also been shown that Bruce understands Joker's philosophy even while rejecting it. You don't watch your parents' murder in front of your eyes and not have a period of wondering what the hell anything matters, to say nothing of when you dedicate your life to fighting crime years later and watch other loved ones end up dead. Joker may have taken that worldview to a much darker place than Bruce is willing to go, but that doesn't mean Bruce doesn't relate at all. And having felt that rejection of the world, Bruce may feel it's still possible, against all likelihood, for Joker to pull back from it too.

Multiple Choice

Of course, that's all the general appeal for me. There are many versions of batjokes that detour from the above in particular ways. 

If you know my AO3 account, then you know that Telltale is one of my favorite versions. There, John is more on the cusp of nihilism, with Bruce struggling to keep him in the light. John doesn't necessarily have to be a villain, but he's obsessed with Bruce regardless, and Bruce may not have lost hold of John over an acid tank, but he still has guilt when he can't stop John from crossing the line. (If you play it that way, at least!) Plus with Telltale, the simpler universe spurred me into finally writing batjokes fic. I don't feel intimidated by 80 years of storylines with inconsistent characterizations, or an endless cast of characters to integrate. As a bonus, Bruce and John's relationship is a few degrees less wrought when Vigilante John has "only" killed a dozen people as opposed to hundreds (Villain John) or several thousands (many other Jokers). It's easier to find a path for these two to get their version of settling down, instead of staying locked in that ideological battle.

Well, when that's what I'm in the mood for.

Sometimes I do want the angst of Batman and Joker's eternal battle, or nonsense fluff, or straight-up darkfic, or goofy comedy, or whatever else. And the flipside of those intimidating 80 years is that we have multiple takes on these characters that can go in all sorts of directions: the comics with their different eras, Telltale, Nolanverse, Batman '66, Lego, Arkhamverse, BTAS, that vague fanfic version not set in a particular 'verse but feels on-point, and many more… all with varying degrees of that forbidden toxicity. ;)

Because sometimes, sure, you want character growth and reconciliation and all that nice stuff… but sometimes you just want a good story, whatever it is, whatever fantastic or terrible facets of humanity it delves into.

[a-lil-strawberry]

Uh oh now it's time for the annual existential crisis!!

Only one hour and ten minutes left of being 20 👁️👄👁️