#MAKE ME PROUD. / esther. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gatheringbones · 1 year ago

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[“It was only after I came out as a dyke that, for the first time in my life, I felt ready to celebrate being a girl, and I did. Actually, I overdid. Armed with Esther Newton’s Mother Camp, Judith Butler’s Gender Trouble, and Joan Nestle’s A Restricted Country, I embraced femme. I dressed up in short flowery dresses, pushup bras, satin panties, and lacy stockings. I paid great attention to my long, curly, perfectly-coiffed hair, my glamorous makeup, and especially my pouty lips. I spritzed Lola’s smell on my skin—Estee Lauder’s Private Collection—and painted my nails. I wore all of it with black combat boots and a brilliant sense of irony. I reveled in my girliness, went over the top, learned how to tweeze my eyebrows and line my lips with a lip pencil.

My gender presentation was unmistakable: blatant female sexuality. I was a proud, in-your-face, take-no-prisoners, uppity, don’t-assume-I’m-straight-because-I-wear-lipstick-and-dresses femme dyke. Because femmes are always assumed to be straight or sleeping with men, and I do sleep with men, I made sure to always have a butch on my arm so I’d be read as femme. Even though I was sure I’d be mistaken for straight, the boys took one look at me and steered clear. It was as if I was too much of a woman for them to handle, like I was a handful, and I was. But butch girls love a handful—a handful of tits, a handful of ass, a girl who needs to be handled, a girl who can handle herself.

How I figured out I was a femme had a lot to do with the women I was attracted to and the dynamic between us. When I was in junior high, I used to mess around with a friend of mine named Angela. Angela was one of those girls who developed early; I remember she had big breasts in like sixth grade. We mostly kissed and touched over clothes, and we played out various boy-girl scenarios. I was always the girl—my early femme roots. My favorite of all our little scenes was the one where she was my male boss and I was the secretary. The boss made me have sex with him and told me if I didn’t I would get fired. Now this was all before Clarence Thomas, Anita Hill and the media awareness/obsession with sexual harassment. I remember she’d tell me to suck her dick and push my face unmercifully into her crotch, which smelled amazing,. The drama of it all—the force, the degradation, the power games—really got me off. After that, there was no going back to simplicity. I was hooked on the power.

Jen really epitomized all the girls I was attracted to then and still am. Being with a butch girl, I was valued for my combination of strength and vulnerability, for dressing up, for wanting an arm to hold onto, hips to wrap my legs around, being able to give my body over to her and say, I trust you, I’m yours. My butch loved me in low-cut dresses, appreciated my sexual voraciousness, worshipped my inner slut. I reveled in the fact that I could be strong and submissive all at once. Surrender and still be a feminist. Being a dyke is not just about who I fuck and love, it’s about being a girl who doesn’t play by the rules.

Butch girls don’t play by the rules either, and I love butch girls. Girls with hair so short you can barely slide it between two fingers to hold on. Girls with slick, shiny, barbershop haircuts and shirts that button the other way. Girls that swagger. Girls who have dicks made of flesh and silicone and latex and magic. Girls who get stared at in the ladies room, girls who shop in the boy’s department, girls who live every moment looking like they weren’t supposed to. Girls with hands that touch me like they have been touching my body their entire lives. Girls who have big cocks, love blow-jobs, and like to fuck girls hard. Every day, it is the girls that get called Sir that make me catch my breath, the girls with strong jaws that buckle my knees, the girls who are a different gender that make me want to lie down for them.

Someone else said it about me recently and it’s right on target: “She gets off on all different sorts of people sexually, but she falls for butches.” Like the poet who bought her first strap-on with me and then wanted to sleep with it on. The shrink-in-training who got harassed every time she drove down South. She did look so much like a fifteen-year-old boy: blue button-down shirts, neatly-combed blond hair. The ad exec who had names for her dildos and used to love for me to spit-shine her wingtips. The photographer whose face was so mannish she could pass almost anywhere. The writer who wanted a body like Loren Cameron’s. The telephone repairwoman who drove a truck. The cook who had a boy’s name. The academic who got cruised by gay men on Castro Street. The cornfed farmboy from the Heartland with arms so hard and strong you swear they’ve been working the land, not the iron at the gym.

And there’s the one who’s got the James Dean stare down, and dresses like a clean-cut fag, and looks at me like she could look at me forever and never blink or grow tired or move from the spot she’s in. She’s a girl who loves girls like me—girls in velvet bras, girls who want to surrender to her mouth. She’s a girl who isn’t afraid to throw a femme down on the bed and fuck her. Possess her. My kind of girl. This girl is different.”]

tristan taormino, from this girl is different, from a woman like that: lesbian and bisexual writers tell their coming out stories, 2000

#tristan taormino #bi literature #gender stuff #femme #currently reading #terra preta

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luna-spacedoodles · 6 months ago

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monty and esther’s relationship is sooo interesting to me even if it doesn’t have lots of time to be explored. a kind of mother-son dynamic

like monty’s been esther’s crow for some time before we meet them only as her familiar but for a less than a week he’s human teen. he still works as her little helper but now there’s a boy in her house that she got at least a few clothes for from somewhere somehow. she doesn’t expect this to last long. he sleeps in his own room now and has a library card and talks back when she talks to him and has a genuine love for astrology. he still perches on chairs instead of sitting in them when he’s in the house and has black hair.

esther brought him into a human body and he blames her for all these human emotions he has to deal with. she takes him out of the world she gave him and it’s back to being a crow in a cage. he wants to be in love with edwin and for edwin to be in love with him back and he doesn’t want to follow esther’s plan to really kill him. he also has no one else to look up to, to follow, to learn from. he doesn’t want to make her mad because he knows the exact extent of what she can do to him and what she will do to him. he wants to make her proud, that he can capture edwin and charles.

esther wastes no time turning him back onto a crow if he fails her. she still has him come back home. he always does.

#dead boy detectives #esther finch #monty the crow #monty dbd #hello. can anyone hear me #does anyone care #is this anything even #scheduling for this to post when im asleep because #i am always so nervous making posts about interests i haven’t really talked abt here before #this is kinda a big old brain dump and no refinement but i just need to get this out there #also i am very nervous about posting any kind of analysis on anything ever

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haithamuse · 2 years ago

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₊˚✧ A KISS SAYS MORE THAN A THOUSAND WORDS.

ft. alhaitham, kaveh, tighnari, cyno

cw. fluff 'n smooches, smidge of angst if you squint for tighnari, cyno's is a lil bit short, intentional lowercase

a/n. esther in her sumeru era (real); first time writing for kaveh n tighnari

ⵌ ALHAITHAM — kissing the worries away

you can find alhaitham with a frown more often than not. it always brings a smile to your face when you see him deep in thought, whether it be due to his research or another book he’s reading. in your eyes, it was kind of adorable. if you were to say it out loud though, he’d just scoff at you, “stop being ridiculous.”

but you don’t deter and instead lean in to plant a kiss on his forehead, the creases on it seemingly melting away. “you’ll get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that all the time”, you giggled.

you never knew that this little action would leave an impact on your lover, but alas — he was full of surprises.

“oh, don’t give me that look.”

“how could i not?” your eyebrows furrowed even tighter at alhaitham’s plea. “this is madness. i don’t want you to get hurt!”

your lover’s gaze softened as he cradled your face with his hands. “you trust me, right?”

“of course i do!”, you replied in earnest without missing a beat.

alhaitham’s lips curled into a smile at your eager confession. he leaned forward to lay his lips on your forehead, the action so full of tender care and love. a simple and yet intimate gesture, with a promise buried within it — that he will come home to you, no matter what.

“then i don’t want to see any wrinkles on your beautiful face when i come home.”

ⵌ KAVEH — kissing in public without any shame, not afraid to show off his love for you

kaveh wears his heart on his sleeve, for better or for worse. while some certain people think of it as one of his greatest weaknesses, to you it’s the thing you love the most.

once you got the news of your job application being accepted, your first thought was to seek out your boyfriend and tell him the amazing news.

kaveh was caught off guard when you ran towards him at full speed, barely being able to catch you as you leapt into his arms. he didn’t have the time to scold you and tell you to be more careful, not when you radiated such vibrant energy and met him with a huge grin on your face. kaveh simply couldn’t do anything but return with a gleeful smile of his own.

“i got the job!”, you exclaimed a little too loud, as the passersby gave you weird looks. but neither of you cared.

“of course you did!” kaveh matched your enthusiasm — he didn’t doubt for a single second that you wouldn’t get it.

he also did not hesitate for the slightest bit as he pressed his lips onto yours. kaveh had no shame, his kisses were always full of vim and vigour. it didn’t matter if you stood in the centre of sumeru’s market amidst a bunch of people — he’d never hold back when it came to his love for you.

“i’m proud of you.”

ⵌ TIGHNARI — kissing you to comfort

forehead kisses were tighnari’s favourite form of showing his love to you. it’s such a simple gesture, yet feels incredibly intimate. he always makes sure to face you when giving them, so even if it’s just a quick peck, it still feels like he’s taking a second to give you his full attention.

when you feel sick or unwell, his entire love, affection and care for you seep through his actions. “stay put”, tighnari orders you in a stern voice. however, his actions are tender and soft as his lips linger for just a second longer on your forehead. “don’t make me come back because collei tells me you’re out and about.”

tighnari’s kisses bring comfort not only to you but to himself as well. you make him feel safe and he wants you to feel the same with him. and how could you not? especially when he holds you in his firm embrace — first planting a kiss on the top of your head and then on your temple, whispering against it in a hushed voice, telling you everything is going to be alright.

ⵌ CYNO — kisses that say ‘i love you’

cyno is a man of few words. it’s not that he doesn’t know what to say, but rather that he prefers to show than tell. the same goes for your love life — you could count on one hand how many times you’ve heard him say ‘i love you’ out loud, but you didn’t mind.

because the way he kisses you tells you enough. cyno kisses you with tender care, yet fiery passion. it’s as if he was drinking out of a glass that’s will break if he got too greedy, dancing the fine line and testing the limits of how far he could go.

he never leaves the house without kissing you goodbye. “i’ll be back by dawn”, sealed by locking his lips with your own — i love you.

wanna be notified of when i post? click here.

#genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #kaveh x reader #tighnari x reader #cyno x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham headcanons #kaveh headcanons #tighnari headcanons #cyno headcanons #alhaitham fluff #kaveh fluff #tighnari fluff #cyno fluff #✰ — esther's works

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simstomaggie · 1 year ago

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Esther Hair

This is a hair that I made after the Erin Hair, which is supposed to be a relaxed, messy style, but this one with a pretty updo. I'll probably make some more hairs with this mesh part, since I'm really proud of it ;)

it comes in the 24 ea swatches

base game compatible

Hat Chops

disallowed for random

TOU:

Please do NOT claim as yours.

Do NOT put behind paywalls.

Do NOT reupload.

DO recolor (without the mesh please!)

DO use for mesh edits

PLEASE give proper credit

HAVE a good time

DOWNLOAD ON PATREON (FOR FREE, NO EARLY ACCESS!)

DOWNLOAD ON CURSEFORGE

IF YOU’D LIKE TO SUPPORT ME, YOU CAN BECOME A PATRON, OR BUY ME A KO-FI. THANKS ♥

cc: @maxismatchccworld @mmfinds @mmoutfitters @public-ccfinds ♥

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looneyleyle · 7 months ago

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the self-destructive habits of a hopeless romantic ~ j. hughes

synopsis: monetizing one's self-sabotaging habits, surprisingly, has its downfalls. one of them being leaving that one attractive hockey player that is an absolute gentleman who loves you with his whole entire heart.

warnings: self-sabotage, self-deprecation, angsty (but with happy ending)

word count: 3425 words

note: once again unedited but i wanted to get this one out there

???'s pov

time and time again, the world has seen the self destructive habits of humans. well, that makes it seem serious. the world has seen the countless missed opportunities due to a fear of another's reaction. the world has seen the blunders due to saving face. the world has seen the heartbreaks due to miscommunication. time and time again, the world has seen how people sabotage their own lives for the dumbest reasons.

esther graham was no different.

in fact, she capitalized on her ability to put herself into the worst emotional distress possible. every heartbreak produced a great work of literature that would nearly sell out in bookstores all over the northeast. she wasn't a new york times best seller by any means, but she was a small town writer from mont vernon, new hampshire. she made a name for herself during her time at hamilton college in their creative writing program. in her junior year of college, she published her first book, woes of a teenage failure, a novel following what could have been for a young college drop out named sophia. the book was a hit amongst her peers and professors, and by word of mouth, ended up selling 200 copies. the book, as ms. graham remarked, was her own "what-if" story, as she almost dropped out of college the beginning of her sophomore year.

and how do i know so much about ms. graham?

well, because i am ms. esther graham.

and i'm here to tell you all about the biggest blunder of my life.

after my first book, i hit major writing block. i would stare at my computer screen for hours just to delete the only three words that i could come up with. i would sit in coffee shops, pen in hand, ready for inspiration to strike, and yet, nothing. i was nearing the end of my college career, riding on the coattails of my first and only book's success, and couldn't figure out how to continue. my professors taught me plenty of ways to try and combat writer's block, but nothing worked.

until i met ryan. a devilishly handsome man all the way from the cheese state of wisconsin, who was meeting up with some college friends for the annual boston beanpot. we had our meet cute at a nearby pizza joint, in which i sat down and started chatting with him, thinking he was a publisher that i was supposed to meet with. after realizing my blunder when he had absolutely no idea what an anthology was, he asked if i wanted to join him and his friends at the beanpot, as one of their friends had cancelled, leaving them with an extra ticket.

ryan and i dated for four months. we would take turns traveling between my college in new york and his in wisconsin until eventually it became too much, or should i say, too little for him, and he broke it off. in my rage and complete depression from the breakup, i wrote my next hit, until the sun sets, a 142-page anthology of gut-wrenching poems, which was eventually integrated into hamilton college's curriculum for their young adult modern literature class. i was quite proud of that.

after that, i found myself yet again staring at blanks screens and empty notepads.

that is, until chloe. a beautiful new york native whom i had actually met while dating ryan. she was a hostess at a restaurant ryan and i would always go to. she was pursuing her masters in psychology, which gave me fascinating insights and tactics to use in my books. we were never officially together, but we had something for almost three months before she was whisked off by some californian named ella. i never saw her again, which prompted my next book, the ninth floor, a murder mystery following a closeted lesbian couple in 1940's hollywood (it was one of the girlfriends the whole time).

at this point, when i hit a creative block for the third time, i realized that i needed my heart or brain to be in absolute shambles in order to produce my best work. i needed to be at some sort of life crisis, and the easiest way to do so was to love another and let that love be ripped out of your life.

so, i began dating for the sake of my career. it was like i sought out the most manipulative, scummy people in the world who were able to get away with it just because they were attractive. over the course of a year, my first year out of college, i dated a total of three men and one woman, and poured my emotions out into a collection of short stories titled lavender.

and that was when i met jack.

i was in new jersey for a book signing at this little bookstore which, as it turns out, was right by the prudential center. as i left the bookstore, i was nearly run over by an overly excited man-child with a giant bag slung upon his shoulder.

"luke, watch out, you nearly killed that woman!" a voice yelled from where the man came from.

"i'm so sorry about that miss, my brother can get a bit overexcited sometimes." looking at the person talking to me, i found a young, very attractive brunet with the most adorable smile. i straightened myself up instinctively, wanting to appear presentable.

"no worries. if you don't mind me asking, what got him so riled up that he almost trampled me?" the man let out a laugh at my statement.

"of course, we owe you at least that much for your near-death experience. he just got nominated for the calder trophy." he explained, as if those words meant anything to me. seeing my blank stare, he clarified. "a rookie of the year award. we play for the new jersey devils." the boy in question came up and joined us, grinning ear to ear.

"ahhh, i see. i'm not a big hockey watcher, which i know is absolute blasphemy for someone who grew up in new hampshire." his jaw nearly dropped.

"you're from up here and don't like hockey? we have to change that." he exclaimed. in my peripheral vision, i could see his brother trying to hide his laughter at his brother's forwardness.

"ill have to come and watch a game sometime." i mused.

"we have a game coming up next week against the blue jackets. i could maybe snatch you a seat in exchange for your number." he proposed. his brother snorted at that, having to turn around to hide his obvious laughter. the man paid his brother no mind, just looking at me with a big smile on his face.

"trying to bribe me mister?"

"is it working?" i put my hand out and he immediately put his phone in my hand, adding my information into his contacts.

"esther? that's nice, you look like a esther." i quirked an eyebrow at him, but continued on anyways.

"and you? what should i call you?"

"call me yours. or jack, either works." the brother was doubled over on the floor at this point, jack finally acknowledging him by kicking him slightly, making him fall over.

"anyways, ms. esther, we have to get going, but ill see you next week at our game." he put out his hand for me to shake.

"you've got yourself a deal jack."

and just like that, jack and i started talking. his eagerness was cute, he texted me no more than ten minutes after meeting me. we talked every day, mainly on calls, asking each other questions and such to get to know each other.

and sure enough, the next week, i found myself back in new jersey watching the brothers play. i assumed jack was going to be some sort of benchwarmer or something, but that didn't seem to be the case. despite my lack of hockey knowledge, i could tell the boy was good, and he had quite a fan base if the amount of women wearing his jersey meant anything. and i felt severely out of place, simply wearing a grey sweater and jeans, unlike everyone else in the stands, decked out in red.

after that, i found myself going to a couple more hockey games, for no particular reason. jack would try to explain the game over video calls and our occasional coffee meet ups, but i couldn't for the life of me wrap my head around it. why do they all get off the ice every five seconds? and what the hell is offsides?? jack always laughed at my confusion, telling me that i'd get it one day.

we spent a couple months thriving off of video chats and once-in-a-blue-moon hangouts, until i got a job as an editor for a local paper. i was good at editing, always having good grammar and an eye for design, but it wasn't my dream. despite it not being my dream, i needed a stable income, and fast. my mind was devoid of ideas, and it didn't seem like that would change any time soon.

plus, it helped that this stable income happened to be in new york city, putting me a lot closer to a certain someone. and, with me being closer, that certain someone would pop on by a lot more than before. and eventually, chinese takeout dinners turned into staying the night, which turned into coming up for the weekend, which turned into the line of friendship being crossed into something more.

and then, i made the dumbest mistake of my life.

i let him go.

now, i know what you must be thinking. he must have done something wrong, he must have cheated or neglected me or done something so completely unforgivable that i would just throw away the most amazing thing in my life. and i wish i was here to tell you that was the truth.

but it wasn't.

jack was nothing but a gentleman, and i was just a broken girl doing the only thing i knew how to do: leave. i like to tell myself that it was for my career, that i needed to write another book, that i wasn't fulfilled in my job and that i was putting myself first by doing this, but i was perfectly content with my life. i was an editor for a major publishing company, i started writing little happy poems about my mundane life with jack, and wanted nothing more. i had no reason to run away. i just woke up in his bed one day and realized that i wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, and i couldn't accept that. i had gotten so used to leaving people that i assumed that they would leave me if i hadn't done so first, and i couldn't lose the one real thing i ever had.

so naturally, my self-destructive, self-sabotaging self let him go, the exact opposite of what i wanted.

and when i got back to my apartment after writing jack a confusing and half-assed letter, i cried. i cried and cried and cried, and i always wrote about characters crying until they couldn't anymore, but that day, i couldn't find the end to my tears. for hours tears would either slowly leak or violently pour from my eyes, and they never did end, not even when i passed out on my couch from exhaustion.

and after a week, i was expecting to pick myself up and start writing my next best seller, coping with my writing. but i sat there, and my florescent computer screen simply sat there, staring back at me. and when i left my apartment for a change of scenery, the blank pages of my notebook mocked me. i flipped through past works, all of them being little poems about jack, and the waterworks continued, right in the middle of a starbucks.

after a week and four days, i couldn't take it. i had to make things right, i had to at least see him. it always worked in the books, right? someone makes a huge mistake, they break up, they see each other again and realize they're both miserable without each other and then get back together and live happily ever after.

when i knocked on the door to jack's apartment, i was met with an unimpressed looking luke. at the sight of him, the waterworks started up again.

"you're an idiot, you know that?" i nodded furiously at this, sobs wrecking through my body. i couldn't see through the tears in my eyes, but i could tell the luke hadn't moved a muscle.

"he deserved better and you know that." i felt my soul being crushed. "i mean, a letter? seriously esther? and a half-assed one at that. i know damn well you don't have a degree in creative writing for that bullshit."

i opened my mouth to explain, but nothing came up. what would i say, that i was a broken person? cop out. that i did it to everyone? not much better. that i got scared? fucking coward.

"if you think that you deserve to see my brother, then i'll let you in." he told me, moving out of the way, door open wide. i just stood there, staring at him through teary eyes. my brain cheered, finally able to go in, but my feet wouldn't move.

my heart still clenched and ached, and with every thought of moving forward, into that apartment, it hurt more. jack didn't deserve this. after all the nights of him reading my poems about him and praising my work, after all the sweet things he'd say when i was down, after all the little acts of kindness he showed me, after all the love he poured into us, he didn't deserve to be broken by me. hurt people hurt people, the scholars had that right. he didn't deserve to be broken.

and so, i got ready to leave, again.

"i'm sorry." was all i said, turning around with heavy legs and a heavy heart. i heard luke let out a sigh as i walked away, closing the door behind him.

a couple of days went by and i found myself back at their apartment. i knew they wouldn't be there, they had an away game in anaheim the night before, and i knew from my time with jack that they would always spend the night in the city before coming back, especially after a win, a 5-0 win no less.

i stood there in front of their door, a small box in my hands, contemplating. jack didn't deserve this, but a selfish part of me needed this. i placed the box gingerly outside of their door and left the building. if the box was taken by some nosy neighbor, or thrown in the trash by some janitor, then it would be fate. it would be a sign to move on. but, there was a chance that jack and luke would come back to their apartment, and would pick up the box, and jack would recognize my handwriting. and, instead of throwing the box in the trash like any normal self-respecting person receiving a box from their shitty ex, he would take it to his room, and open it up to see my notebook, with a bookmark starting at the pages when i first started seeing him. and he would read the poems and maybe, just maybe, he'd see the note written on the bookmark to meet me at the park near his apartment, and maybe, just maybe, he'd be willing to hear me out.

i went to that park every single day for exactly one month and six days, always arriving by 1 pm, never late. and i would stay there until 4 pm, waiting.

on the 37th day, i was sitting there, editing, funnily enough, a sports column about the recent devils and islanders game. i watched it, absolutely terrible game it was, the islanders beating the devils for the first time in the season. our sports journalist, while passionate and very knowledgeable about seemingly every sport out there, had a knack for writing long, run-on sentences that reflected his rambling nature. as i sat there on the same park bench i had been sitting on for the previous 36 days, a figure stopped in front of me. i finished up the sentence i was working on before looking up.

and while i hate cliches, the wind was absolutely knocked out of my lungs.

"h-hey jack." i started, immediately putting away my work, giving him my full attention.

"hey esther." a shiver ran down my spine from him just saying my name. it had been so long, and while it lost its loving tone, i welcomed it with open arms. jack moved, taking the spot next to me, looking out at the trees in front of us. when it became apparent he wasn't going to say anything, i started the conversation.

"i see you read the notebook."

"i finished it three weeks ago." he replied, voice lacking its usual emotion. tears welled up in my eyes. three weeks.

"oh."

"i came here immediately after finishing it." i felt my eyes bulge out of their sockets at that. he continued, "i went to that bench over there and watched as you fidgeted in your spot, looking frantically at everyone who passed by. i watched the next day as you sat in the pouring rain with no umbrella. i sat over on that bench every day that i was here since reading your notebook."

a silence fell upon us, my mind reeling, trying to figure out what he was trying to say, from his emotionless face to the fact that he came.

"do you know how much it hurt? waking up to empty sheets and some half-assed note with the lamest excuses on earth?" i hadn't really paid mind to the tears rolling down my cheeks until he brought that up, sending me back to that morning, quickly scribbling out some gibberish before leaving the best part of my life behind.

"i was going to wait another month, y'know. to see if you were still gonna come here every day."

"so why didn't you?" i asked, sniffling intensely, trying to calm down my sobs.

"luke said i was absolutely miserable without you. coach told me i wasn't focused. my teammates pointed out that i barely left my apartment. the icing on the cake was when my mom started asking if you would be coming over to the lakehouse this summer. i realized, as pathetic as it seems, that i can't live without you."

my attempts at stopping my crying were thrown out the window at that. i could probably fill the hudson river with the amount of tears i had shed over the past two months.

"how can i make it up to you. please, please let me make it up to you." i begged, fully facing him, my hands angrily playing with the sleeves of my shirt because if i didn't, i would be reaching out to the man in front of me.

"never pull that shit again." he bargained, looking me dead in the eyes for the first time in months. and in that moment, i saw just how bad he was doing. sunken eyes with heavy bags, his skin dull, hair slightly unkempt under his hat.

"never again." i promised, putting out my pinky to him, something he would always do when he promised me to not get hurt in games. he let out a hoarse laugh, looking away from me, and when he looked back, i saw the tears brewing in his eyes. he took my pinky in his and held it there, between us.

"now, i'm not gonna just take you right back after all that. that was really shitty and i need some time to get over that. but, as i've found out, i can't really function without you. so maybe you could start with coming to my games again, and i could take you out for coffee next week."

"sounds perfect."

i accepted my life as an editor for the local newspaper, accepted that i probably wouldn't write another page-turning sell-out book, accepted that i was completely content with whatever happened to me, so long as jack was there with me.

and with that, my self-destructive, soul-crushing, heart-breaking tendencies reached their end.

#jack hughes #jack hughes x oc #new jersey devils #fanfic

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queerly-done · 6 months ago

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So my opinions on all the Dead Boy Detective/DBDA Characters

All of these are opinions as someone who has watched the show a few times now and also the Doom Patrol episode and I’ll give my opinions on the Doom Patrol versions at the end.

Spoilers for Dead Boy Detectives Show. And Doom Patrol season 3 ep. 3 and that episode alone

Charles Rowland

- Charles is such a sweetheart I love him. He’s always looking out for his friends and literally went to hell for Edwin, and kicked the Night Nurse for him. I just love him so much.

- I felt so bad for him in episode one when he says his dad, “wasn’t the nicest guy,” and in episode three when we see him break being forced to see a father k!ll his family over. I was actually crying with him saying he doesn’t “want to be a bad guy”! It broke me so badly, the abuse he went through and the fear he’ll become like his abusers is a very real thing and to see a character go through that makes the story feel more real, and makes me more sad. He could use some therapy.

- Him being the “brawn” of the team is pretty funny to me but thats most because if you watch the cast interactions you’ll see what I mean.

- All in all, I love him. He is loving, protective, loyal and has golden retriever with attachment issues energy mixed with scary dog privilege but the dog isn’t scary unless provoked.

Edwin Paine/Payne

- Adorable, get him some therapy please! He needs it! Man was so repressed for the first part of this show I thought I’d die before he confessed. But I don’t blame him honestly, his death was traumatic and being called a “Mary Ann” whilst being sacrificed likely would put a bad taste in your mouth about the idea of you being queer in any way shape or form. I am so proud of him good job!

- Honestly he just makes me so happy, and I love how he interacts with everyone and grows!

Crystal Palace

- I love her she is so bad ass and I hope wish the best for her

- She needs better taste in men, my suggestion date women

- I want to see a little more of her Nepo baby side of her past cause clearly that was a thing

Niko Sasaki

- Sweetie! I miss her! She was the only other person other than Charles to get Edwin out of his shell and it hurts me so much to see her be gone. Her death will forever haunt me.

Cat King

- I love him so much, he is my favourite kind of not evil but not good guy the kind that plays a game with people by flirting! Ahhh I love him! I don’t love that he falls for Edwin(I’ll make a separate post on this issue)

- Anywho I still love him he gives off chaotic gender neutral vibes and the song Sex With a Ghost was made for him, I just love him!

Monty the Crow

- Monty I love you but don’t kiss people without consent!

- Honestly he was very important, and sweet he didn’t deserve all the pain he’s been through, may better things come his way.

Jenny the Butcher

- Badass. I love everything about her. Her style, the way she gives advice, yes I just love her so much. I want to see more of her.

- Her episode made me so sad for her ;-;

Esther Finch

- Honestly I love her as a villain she was so evil, and a genuine threat. She is also so hot and scary I just love her.

David the Demon

- A creep I didn’t like him, I don’t know what else you want?

Doom Patrol versions!

Charles Rowland

- He was so funny in this, I loved him. I love how the show conveyed a mutual interest from him to Edwin they are both just too dense to say anything about it. I also love that it seems the only thing he knows about America is that they like baseball.

- They did have to go off and hurt me with the fear of water scene, but he was so sweet protecting Edwin from the Night Nurse(who in this is just 10 times scarier)

Edwin Paine

- Him not getting anything about modern times and brushing off his feelings for Edwin was so well done! I love how he tells Larry he “isn’t like him” saying he isn’t queer and that if he were that would be bad, he says this all in a very rude and brash tone and then proceeds to comfort Charles in the nicest to he is capable of.

- Beautiful 10/10

Crystal Palace

- Boss ass Bitch, girl boss. 8/10 I love her but no real opinions yet that is I may go back one day and edit this for her

I hope you liked this dumb post :3

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carryingthebannershitposts · 2 months ago

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Hear me out: Javid (who aren't dating yet) meet annoying nosy little brother who doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut

Like- Les follows David around everywhere and probably knew Jack and David liked each other before they knew themselves, so he probably assumed they already liked each other/were together and he told EVERYONE about it so one day Racetrack casually asks Jack how his relationship with David is going and Jack is just like "huh"

And that same night Esther sits David down and starts telling him she'll love and support him no matter what and poor David is so confused and has no idea what she's talking about

So the next day they get together and laugh about it and one of them makes a joke like "I'd rather date you than anyone else really" or something idk and they just kinda mutually agree and go "oh yeah" and just start dating

And years later Les is the best man at their wedding and he's all proud of himself because they wouldn't have gotten together if he hadn't told everyone they liked each other

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isadora-b-l-e · 6 months ago

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about a year after i decided to convert to judaism, i found out my moms dads family was jewish.

my first reaction was irritation. it was mostly a mock anger; i joked that if great-grandma rose hadn’t converted to christianity i wouldn’t have had to go the long way back to judaism. but some of that irritation was real. ever since i started my conversion i’ve felt like i’ve come home. i can’t imagine my life without it at this point. how could she have ever left?

i wondered if her mom- esther, a ukrainian jew who fled to the united states in the 1910’s- was disappointed she’d converted.

all i know about my great grandmas rose and esther are from census records and bits and pieces my mom remembers from her childhood. i know they both spoke ukrainian- esther never learned how to speak english, and rose never taught her son david how to speak ukrainian. i know esther’s name was changed to “stella” at some point in the 1940s. rose made hamantaschen during christmas, and taught my mom how to make pierogi. i don’t know why esther left ukraine but i’ve got a pretty good guess.

i don’t know why grandma rose converted. maybe she really did believe jesus was the messiah. maybe orthodox christianity was, for her, a way to escape antisemitism while being as close as she could to judaism. i don’t know. but i definitely don’t blame her like i used to. i’m coming home, and i hope she would be proud of me.

#sorry for the long post #but i have so much to say all the time #jumblr #jewish conversion #judaism #goy2joy #jewblr

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sorion · 17 days ago

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fic: Edwin the Friendly Ghost

Title: Edwin the Friendly Ghost Fandom: Dead Boy Detectives (Netflix) , hints of Casper (movie) Pairing: Edwin Payne/Cat King 👻💕😻 Rating: T Tags: AU, romance, ghosts (it needs extra mentioning here), adventure, magic, murder (mentioned), animal death (mentioned) Characters: Thomas the Cat King, Edwin Payne, Charles Rowland, Crystal Palace, Niko Sasaki, Esther Finch

Summary: Cat is a parapsychologist specialising in afterlife therapy. His latest job sends him across the country to Whipstaff manor in Maine, where he is supposed to encourage some ghosts to leave. Things do not go as planned.

Notes: Casper crossover because of reasons. (The reasons being that I watched the movie again after years and noticed that the ghost falls in love with “Kat” 😹)

Thank you to my busy beta Bee 🐝

I am crazy proud of this one (and it also makes me crazy nervous 😅)

#my fics #dead boy detectives #catwin #👻💕😻#halloween

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zeondraws · 3 months ago

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Definetely noticed how much I am learning about the game through trial and error. Some details I just don't notice, until a certain moment where it clicks in my head.

Earlier this morning I rewatched the videos from the developers and noticed they did show closeups of a few crew members, including Muir and I was like- Wait, that's him!

I remember watching that video before, but not quite understanding who these characters were, or maybe the way they got rendered threw me off.

Seeing how much I am learning here makes me wonder, how come I don't do the same with other topics? There is so much I could learn, if I had the motivation or the drive. It's hard on some days.

Either way, I feel like making a small post for myself with various links/image references. At one point I have to make a mega post to link each of my research posts, so that it's easier to pinpoint.

Here are some face closeups of a few crew members

Innes (I am sorry everyone it looks like he's half bald)*

Gibbo - Gibson

Muir

Brodie, Edit: I think the two images are actually Dobbie? But I'll check up on this in the future again

O'Conner (This one was a bit hard to identify, but some folk on discord helped me)

Roper

Video Source:

youtube

*In the Cantines I noticed another person that looks similar to the model, that I linked to Innes. Tho that person wears a red suit, while Innes wears blue. Tho I still think the above pictures fit for Innes, we never get to see him without his hat. So it's hard to say for me.

Helpful Link for the Achievements (scroll down for a List of Achievement Timestamps):

(I still need 3 of them)

Ripped 3D Models on Sketchfab (You need an account to view Muir, Addair, Trots and Rennick):

What I also did was looking through reddit to find tiny pieces of information here and there. I am not sure how deep I want to dive in for this game, considering it's quite time consuming to check small details (replaying the entire game again each time). But here are two Screenshots I grabbed from TheChineseRoom's comments on Reddit.

And of course their Youtube Channel has a bunch of Videos about Behind the Scenes. Quite interesting listening through them. Helps me to get a small glimpse into the Industry and how things work.

I think I have rambled for long enough, I gotta tidy up XD Been posting so much about this game, hope it doesn't get annoying.

Either way, if anyone has something else to add to this, feel free to tell me.

#swtd spoilers #I currently have 24 hours in this game #Youtube

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acheel-and-cat · 5 months ago

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Alrighty guys, I’ve added more to Vampire Monty! We have part one and two if you haven’t read those. Thanks @eat-the-lemons for the idea and thanks @parathepineapple for proofreading! Here’s part three of four in the Vampire Monty Au!

“Well do tell us your theory Crystal.” Edwin grabbed his notebook to take notes.

“He can’t eat normal food, he goes crazy blood, he’s got sunlight sensitivity, and fangs. That’s textbook definition vampire!” she said, proud of her deduction.

“That makes quite a bit of sense Crystal, well done!” Edwin told her, snapping his notebook shut.

“Wait, wait! I can’t be a vampire, I’ve never been bitten!” Monty was gobsmacked. His mind was racing and he like he needed to sit down.

“Being bitten is not the only way to be turned,” Edwin began, “Charles can you grab-“

“Vampires Vol. 1: How They Came to Be? Way ahead of you mate,” Charles interjected, setting the book on the desk.

“Let us see,” Edwin murmured as he began flipping through the book, “do you remember anything about your death and resurrection?” Monty shook his head.

“No, I just remember falling to the floor and then waking up and being human again.” He shrugged, internally cursing his lack of memory of the whole affair.

“Hold up mate, you said you fell? What happened?” Charles asked, concern lacing his voice.

“When Esther was dragged away our witch-familiar bond was destroyed and I died,” he explained sadly.

“God, that fucking sucks!” Crystal exclaimed.

“Alright, you were a crow, you died, and when you woke up you were human? Or, a vampire?” Edwin asked, writing in his notebook.

“Um, yeah. Sorry I don’t remember anything, I feel pretty useless right now,” Monty admitted.

“Nah mate, you’ve been brills. Maybe we could use our lovely psychic to investigate where you died?” Charles suggested, looking at Crystal.

“I have some money put aside but I don’t think it’s enough to get me to Port Townsend,” Crystal said.

“Well I’ve got some money. Esther sure doesn’t need it anymore and I found a job at the library too,” Monty offered and turning towards Crystal.

“Oh perfect, thanks Monty!” Do you want to start planning the trip?” Crystal asked Monty and grabbed her phone to start planning.

#monty the crow #vampire monty #dead boy detectives #edwin payne #charles rowland #crystal palace surname von hoverkraft #writing stuff idk #writing #acheel writes

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nonexistent-introvert · 2 years ago

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Train Ride

Pairing: no outbreak! college? Joel miller x f!reader

Word count: 2.2k

Content: angst, unrequited love, au where joel didn't end up being a teen dad and pursued his dreams of being a musician

A/n: Loosely inspired by this song. idek what to say anymore, im a sucker for angst and this is yet another unrequited love fic bc i love suffering. Fun fact: this fic was supposed to end happily but I decided against that.

You couldn’t help the smile that was forming on your face as you admired the photo on your phone. It's a picture of Joel. His guitar case was strapped to his back, a grin on his face, the street lamps highlighting the features on his side profile. He looked so happy and proud as he gushed over the performance he had just put up. Talking obsessively over the backstories of the music he had just played beautifully.

“Who got you smiling like that?” the teasing sound of your friend, Esther’s voice broke you out of your trance. You quickly turned off your phone, trying to brush your feelings away. “I called you thrice.” Joel said, chuckling softly at the dazed look on your face. “Well, what’s up?” You asked, shoving your phone into your pocket.

“Did you take this picture?” Joel turned his phone around. The train started moving at the same exact time, causing his hand to shake as he tried to hold onto the handrails above him. The picture became a blur as you squinted your eyes at his phone to try to make sense of it. You blinked a few times before instinctively holding his hand in an attempt to stabilize the picture, it took you a few seconds before your actions comprehended in your mind. You abruptly let go of his hand, coughing slightly and you turned your eyes away from him. “You caught me.” You awkwardly laughed, hoping that he didn’t notice how much impact the physical contact had on you Joel smiled, the sound of your own heartbeat blasting in your ears. “It’s a nice picture.” He simply complimented. “I told you you looked the most handsome and charming when you’re playing the guitar.” Esther commented from beside you. You bit your lip slightly, Esther was the whole reason why you even knew Joel. She had introduced the both of you to each other and was definitely closer to him than you are. Joel shook his head, denying Esther’s compliments. You felt yourself deflate slightly.

Joel was engaged in a conversation with Esther. You couldn’t help the sigh of disappointment as you remained your distance from the pair from your place beside Esther. They were close, you weren’t. It was none of your business nor did you want to randomly insert yourself into the conversation. While you watched the pair, a painful memory flooded your mind.

“I wonder if anyone else can make it to the performance. They all seem so busy these days, haven’t seen any of my friends around not to mention have a conversation.” The words had slipped out without any additional thought. It was the whole reason why it had hurt you so much because it was his truthful thoughts. Your heart sank, he had spent his last few days heading home with you, you definitely weren’t part of the group of friends he had mentioned. “Thanks, Joel. It’s nice knowing that I have been walking home with a stranger for the past few days.” you replied sarcastically, chuckling lightly with a playful smile on your face. It was just how you dealt with emotions, by hiding behind the protective shield that was humour. Joel blinked, the weight of his words finally comprehending in his mind. “No, no. I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that. I just-”

Honestly? You didn’t want him to elaborate, didn’t need to know what he truly saw you as, didn’t need the confirmation that he definitely didn’t reciprocate your feelings. “Joel, I’m just joking. You don’t have to explain yourself.” Joel’s gaze sunk to the floor, ignoring your words completely as he struggled to find the right words to express himself.

“You’re a friend too. Just-just not the friend that I would share some matters with.”

You laughed, brushing his reply off with a shrug. “I get it,” You told him.

His words might as well have been a bullet through your heart. He had broken your heart that day.

Despite that incident, you couldn’t rid your mind of Joel Miller. Your eyes searched for him everywhere you went. Searched for him at the usual table he always sat at in the library to do his work, searched for him among his group of friends, and searched for him in the morning when you boarded the public bus you knew he took too. Every single time you searched for him, you reprimanded yourself. He was like a drug and you were like the drug addict. All you thought of was him and all you yearned for was him. You couldn’t even will yourself to stop falling for Joel.

“Bye, you two have fun!” Esther bid goodbye, watching the doors of the train open as she stepped out and waved back to the both of you. You stared at the map above the doors, four more stations. Four more stations before Joel got off and you’re left alone. Esther sent you a teasing smile, she always laughed about the fact that the both of you couldn’t hold a conversation up with each other that lasted longer than a minute. She was right, the awkward silence that suffocated both of you arose as soon as the doors closed.

The train started up again, the sudden gain in speed causing you to stumble backwards and hit your back against the wall. Joel stumbled forward, the distance between the both of you decreased sharply. His chest was just a few inches from your face, you could feel his breath on top of your head and smell the faint cologne that lingered on him. Your heart paced, your own feelings betraying you as your mind called you a traitor. How many times have you broken the promise to yourself that you would stop your feelings for him? “sorry “ Joel muttered as he quickly restored the distance between the both of you. The stupid hope arose in your heart again, the hope that would eventually burn you. You admired the features on his face, wondering if you had the same effect on him as he did you. Logic was quick enough to shoot that thought down as the hope turned into a flame that burned painfully at your heart. Joel doesn’t feel anything for you, your own logic coldly reminded you.

Your eyes remained fixated on the train map. Counting the remaining stations to Joel’s departure. One station had already passed in awkward silence despite how much you wrecked your brains for a conversation starter. Engaging in small talk seemed desperate enough while other conversation topics just seemed dry or too random. You let out a huff, internally laughing at yourself as you snuck a glance at Joel who was tapping his feet to a rhythm. Esther was the only reason the both of you talked most of the time, your love for music was the only similar interest between the both of you. The conversation topic of guitar and music has long been exhausted from the time you went home with him every day. You’re so hopelessly in love with someone who you can’t even start a conversation with, how pathetic were you?

“I’m getting off one stop earlier.” Joel announced, following your gaze to the map above. You wondered if it was because he couldn’t stand the awkward silence between the both of you. “I have a direct bus, closer to my home too.” He explained, you nodded. “I wish I had a direct bus.” You mindlessly commented, staring at the watch on your wrist. He hummed, he pointed to a station on the map. “That’s your stop, right? Yeah, I can’t think of a bus. You live way too far so thanks for making the effort to come today.” Your heart cracked, creating faultlines that threatened to break your heart apart at any time. You smiled, nodding at him. That wasn’t your station, he didn’t remember, while you had remembered everything about him. Another painful memory drifted into view, despite how badly you wanted to suppress it and pretended it didn’t happen

“Wait, both your birthdays haven’t passed right?” Joel’s sudden question caught both you and Esther off guard. Your mind blanked out at the sudden question while Esther rolled her eyes at Joel. “Both of ours passed, a long time ago.” Joel tilted his head in confusion, trying his best to recall. You swallowed, 26th September. You recalled his birthday without a second thought. A boyish smile crossed his features, a sudden spark in his eye as a realization hit him. “Oh yea… I remember yours. February was it?” Joel furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes fixated on Esther. “February 22nd.” Esther beamed, “Congrats Miller,” You stilled, your heart pumping in anticipation as Joel’s averted his focus to you. He frowned and when you finally urged yourself to meet his eyes. All you saw was a guilty smile and you felt your heart crumble. Joel didn’t remember, he didn’t remember your birthday. Then you remembered how he gave you the same guilty look on your birthday when he had nothing prepared while you carried a bag that was filled with birthday gifts. “I’m sorry, I never knew it was your birthday.” He had apologised that day, profusely and you had reassured him despite the emptiness that lingered in your heart

Joel averted his eyes, he seemed disappointed in himself. “I’m sorry, my mind has been a mess these days. Just can’t seem to remember anything.” He admitted and you felt your heart break again.

They said that if you liked someone you would remember even the smallest details. Like you did for him.

You leaned against the wall, staring blankly at the floor as you were brought back to the present. Joel stood beside you, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. The train was just leaving the second station and heading for the third station, the station that Joel would be getting off at since he would be alighting one stop earlier than usual.

Was it really impossible between the both of you? The question lingered in your head. He has sent you multiple songs on random occasions with comments like “Do you know this song?” “This seems like your taste.”. Joel had participated in midnight conversations which caused the both of you to stay up way too late talking before he eventually urged you to sleep because it was unhealthy to stay up. Not to mention when he had brought you to a spot to admire the sunset together one day. Did you overthink everything? Did nothing matter at all? Did you make up moments and things that were never there?

“Bye.” You looked up, sucking in a breath as you realised that it was his stop. You replied a similar reply as he stepped to the front of the door, awaiting the doors to open. You followed behind him, admiring him from behind, where he couldn’t see the adoration in your eyes. You committed his figure to memory, wondering how it would feel if you hugged him from behind right now. If he would Mutter sweet nothings to you as he admitted that he wanted to spend more time with you. How his hands would feel around your waist, how his lips would feel against your temple or face, how he would leave with a promise of seeing you soon.

“You’re alighting?” He turned, surprised to see you directly behind him. You stood too close, you shook your head, “Just standing closer to the door so I could alight easier and not squeeze past people.” You defended quickly. He curtly nodded before striding out of the train, leaving you alone.

You leaned against the wall, calculating the small probability that he may reciprocate your feelings for him. The probability only got smaller every time you spent time with him.

“Get home safe.” A message from Joel. Your thumb hovered over the message, your head racing with possible replies. You closed your eyes, feeling your heart clench as you swiped his message away instead.

The thoughts of him, the clear signs that he didn’t see you that way haunted you. From how he clearly didn’t remember or know anything about you to subtle signs like how he never seemed to bother to reduce his pace when walking with you while you struggled to keep up with him. From the lack of conversations between the both of you and most clearly, how he didn’t even feel the need to contact you for weeks on end and how he doesn’t even notice your presence.

The tears came so suddenly that you didn’t even have time to duck your head down fast enough. Strangers shot you concerned looks as they saw tears drip down to the floor from your face. You quickly plastered a hand over your mouth, preventing the sob from escaping from your throat. You didn’t mean to cry, everything had just occurred to you so suddenly that it overwhelmed and confused you. You stared at the darkness outside, if only Joel knew how you felt right now. Like your heart was about to just give up, tired of beating to someone’s else rhythm.

Someday, one day, you’ll stop loving Joel Miller.

Until then, you’ll continue admiring him from afar, imagining that he loved you as much as you loved him.

Until then, you’ll allow him to break your heart again and again.

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stellarcat52 · 5 months ago

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A familiar needs a magician... right? Right.

Esther died and Monty should have too. But something saved him and Caleb Covington has something to do with it. The warlock seems to want a familiar, and Monty just wants to be safe.

This is one part of a larger story. I'll post more if people seem interested!

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When a magician creates a familiar, it connects the animal to their soul. A familiar lives and dies with its magician. A familiar cannot feel hunger or thirst. They are not animals, nor are they tools. A familiar is the living connection between a magician and the spirit of the earth, a core of night infinite magic. But the familiar will never be able to draw on that magic without it passing through it to its magician. A familiar can only use the magic its magician chooses to give it.

If a familiar were ever to survive the death of its magician, nothing would stop it from using the earth’s magic for itself. Of course, this is a purely hypothetical, impossible phenomenon.

“A ghost such as myself can’t get a familiar, not like you have…” Covington mused. “You’ll get access to whatever profit my clubs produce,” Including the magic, of course, but Covington wanted to make her get a big head when she eventually figures that out. It would make things easier if he ever needed to knock her down a peg in the future. “on the condition that Monty becomes mine when you perish.” He doubted Esther had ever even heard of the legend of an unbound familiar. If she had, well, she had no reason to believe Covington had the means to sever the tie between a dying witch and her bird.

Esther scoffed. “Death will come for you before Lillith gives up on me. What do you really want?” Nobody in their right mind would trust such an obviously one-sided deal. Not even a vain, self-serving immortal such as Esther.

“An IOU, then, if you insist.” Covington had set a trap with only a few words. If she took it back, she’d seem weak or afraid of what the warlock would ask of her. But if she insisted that wasn’t enough, trying to make sure it wasn’t a trap, she’d be insulting Covington and risk him adding something she couldn’t give him to the deal. “But he is still part of the deal, yes? I’ve always wanted a pet bird”

Of course she agreed to this, Covington would give her credit where it was due but she truly knew nothing about dealing with him. The IOU was only a decoy, he’d never need anything else from that useless witch. But it kept her from wondering why Monty was what he asked for in the first place.

Covington made sure to scratch the crows head on his way out.

The bird barely reacted.

-Years Later-

Thomas felt the shift in the air instantly. “Caleb.” He smiled. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Covington was dressed to the nines like usual, Wasn’t quite his type, but Thomas could appreciate him nonetheless. “Can’t I just come visit an old friend? You haven’t been to my club as much recently.”

“Well, another ghost has caught my eye.” The cat king admitted. “But Esther’s got her paws on him, and only one of them is going to walk out. Honestly, I don’t know which party has the upper hand here.”

“And here I thought that was always you.”

“You flit.” Thomas purred. But his eyes glinted with distrust. “You aren’t just visiting, are you?”

“I came here to check on Esther, I wanted to see if our little deal would be coming to fruition anytime soon.”

“Then I guess we both have a reason to want her dead right now.”

“I suppose we do.” Covington was silently proud of himself for baiting her into taking power from his clubs all those years ago. It had always been a power play, an ace up his sleeve that had waited decades to finally be played. With nothing more than a click of his fingers, the power flow that Esther had long ago grown used to was cut off completely from her. It wouldn’t do much- he never let her take enough to hurt him- but it would throw her off just enough to give someone else the advantage.

-----

When Esther was dragged away by Lillith, Monty expected to follow her. As her familiar, he should have been destroyed with her. He always knew that was his fate. But death wasn’t what was coming for him. It was a different kind of magic. For a second, he feared it was Lilliths. But it wasn’t there to hurt him. In the mere fractions of a millisecond before her death caught up to Monty, this odd magic came to his rescue and severed the magic link before it could destroy him.

But with the severing, came darkness and silence, and there was no thud of his body hitting the floor for the detectives in the other room to have a chance of hearing. All they’d know, would be that there wasn’t a second body to bury. Not that there was only one soul to mourn, and even then…

-----

Monty woke up slowly to loud, energetic music. Something about Hollywood? It wasn’t worth paying attention to yet because the ambient magic in the air around him was buzzing. Esther never let this much magic run rampant, but then again she was gone. Monty had to remember that. He stood and spread out his wings, flapped a few times too. Flying wasn’t entirely off the table, he wasn’t injured like he expected to be. But he was fatigued, and it was warm here- if a bit noisy. But the music was much more pleasant than the screams he’d hear in Esther’s house, so Monty didn’t mind.

He sat on the leather seat where he’d woken up for a few more minutes, listening to the music. But it ended, and a ghost warped into the room right in front of Monty’s eyes. A ghost that Monty took a moment to realize he recognized him. And Esther had only ever let him interact with a select few before… Monty might’ve been a bit slow at the time, but he never truly forgets a face or name of someone he knows.

Covington looked at him with a smile as Monty squawked rapidly in surprise. “Oh, I can’t understand you like this. Why don’t we…” He blew a kiss at the crow and Monty found himself human again. Caleb seemed pleasantly surprised, he’d never excelled at biological transformations, and so he had to assume this wasn’t his work. “I see Esther gave you a body of your own.”

“Not that I asked for it.” Monty mumbled. He still hated her for giving him human emotions. It had been nothing but heartbreak- sadness, anger,- ever since. “Sorry, Mr. Covington. Sir. I… thought I was supposed to vanish with Esther. Did she-?” Was this fear? Worry? Shouldn't he have felt hopeful or happy? If he was still alive…

“No.” Covington put on a look of sympathy. ”She didn’t survive. But she and I made a deal years ago that if she ever perished, you would come to me. And it seems that deal had enough power to bring you right to me.”

“Why would she do that? Why would you do that?” It was almost definitely not for Monty’s benefit. Panic- maybe just fear? What was the difference?- was starting to settle in. Was Covington going to treat him the same way that She did?

“Montague.” His name- was that even his name? Wasn’t it just Monty? He couldn't remember that far back.- caught him off guard. “A ghost like myself, magician or not, cannot acquire a familiar through normal means. Every chance I’ve had to get one I’ve tried to take. Esther’s passing is a horrible thing, but it has brought you to me and that is a wonderful thing.”

“Now, there might not be any spell that will bind you to me the same way you were bound to her, but I do hope you’ll stay with me. I have my dancers, but alas they’re not the same as having a familiar.” Covington’s hands were suddenly firmly on Monty’s shoulders. The touch further grounded? Him. Grounding was supposed to be comforting, right? So this feeling of being trapped was wrong. Must be the bird instincts carrying over. “It’s not the same as having a family, Montague. The one thing my magic cannot bring me, and yet here you are. But you do have a choice.” Surely he wanted an answer instantly, Esther would have.

“I…” Monty's eyes felt wet. Tears..? Fuck these human emotions. He wasn’t even sure what he was feeling- it was all just so much. “I don’t know yet.”

Covington didn’t seem surprised at that response. He was fine without a yes or no right now. “Why don’t you see if you like being human? Stay at the club for a bit.”He suggested. ”If you’d like a job, I could give you a simple one.”

A job. That’s what Monty was used to. That didn’t need emotions. A tension in his chest that he hadn’t noticed was suddenly gone. “That would be great. Whatever you need.”

Covington seemed surprised for a second, maybe not expecting Monty to be so eager? “We’ll start you small. Just delivering dishes to the lifers after performances.” He smiled. “Maybe if you decide to stick around I can teach you the choreography.” Covington suggested as he summoned a new outfit and ID card out of thin air and offered them to Monty.

Monty would pay more attention to his appearance later, but right then he was focused on the ID that he had just accepted. “Montague Finch-Covington?”

“I hope it isn’t too much. You’re family now, let me show you off just a bit.”

Was this what familial love was supposed to be? Monty felt… warm. And that feeling didn’t fade when the music started up again and Covington had to excuse himself to go entertain his guests.

Monty looked at the card. A black feather border decorated a picture he definitely never posed for. Some kind of illusion magic, probably. Covington was powerful, a little illusion printed onto a card wouldn’t have been that hard. Would it have been difficult for Esther? She never cared much for illusions except for her own cosmetics.

Maybe Monty should compare them less. Covington was an improvement in any way he could think of at the moment.

He might not have decided on being human or crow yet, but Monty had decided that he would be sticking around in Hollywood. He was a Covington now, and as a familiar, he was meant to stay near his family.

-----

Caleb’s expectations for Montague’s ability to entertain were blown out of the water. No matter who the unbound familiar approached, with or without food or purpose,vthey all took to him like moths to a flame. Even the other workers, most of which had to be forced to stick around, were eating out of the palm of Montague’s hand after just a few exchanged words. As for his singing, well, crows might not be well known for their song but Montague was born to be a star. Even if the boy was still too shy to sing if he knew someone could hear him.

He was almost perfect. A little confidence boost here, some etiquette teachings there… But Montague’s biggest flaw was that he didn’t yet know how to use his nigh unlimited magical power. Admittedly it was just legend that unbound familiars were the among the strongest beings in existence, a story that Caleb had never had the chance to prove before, but Montague definitely felt as though he had quite a lot of magic built up in that sometimes feathery form.

Caleb warped just outside the room he had offered Montague. He rapped his knuckles against the door and waited only a second for a response.

“Come in!”

“Montague…” Caleb trailed off. The boy was sitting on the bed, in an absolute mess of blankets that had previously been neatly tucked in.

“Please, just call me Monty. I don’t even remember if Esther gave me that long of a name.” Montague was adjusting the blankets in a manner that just made them seem more messy to Caleb but he was very intent on moving them around in such a way. “So what did you want?”

Montague still wasn’t facing him, which gave him a clear view of the boy’s back which was tensing with anxiety. An emotion Caleb both wanted to eradicate and take advantage of. “I came to ask how you felt today? I worried sending you right to work would be too much but it seems I underestimated your abilities.”

Montague sighed. No reason to lie, really. “I… All these human emotions are still new to me. I’ve been fully awakened for maybe a month now?” He laughed nervously. “Working is about the only thing I think I can do right now.”

“Esther hadn’t awakened you?” No wonder he was so innocent. Still, there was some darkness behind those ever-sparkling eyes. “Did she not have the power?” Caleb traded a secret method of filter feeding power specifically so he could acquire a powerful familiar.

“She did. Just wouldn’t waste it on me until I would actually be useful.” The mess of blankets finally seemed to be to Montague’s liking and he turned around to face Caleb. “Even then, she practically killed me like two weeks later when I failed.” Caleb’s eyes went dark with distaste and Monty’s eyes went wide with implemented fear. “Sorry, sorry. You weren’t asking about-”

“Montague.” The familiar froze at his name. Or maybe it was just Caleb’s voice that had that effect. It commanded him, but not in the same way he was used to.. “Esther was vain, arrogant, and apparently much more of a fool than I had thought. The reason most lifer magicians have familiars is to bring them power and provide assistance but she ignored and hurt you?” Unless given a reason, even Caleb didn’t hurt his people. And he never ignored them, even if they sometimes wished he would. “You’re safe here. And if you’d like to be given jobs then I’ll find work for you.”

It was becoming evident to Caleb that Montague wasn’t going to be all that troublesome. Kindness was more than enough to both terrify and enrapture the boy. Something- maybe beyond Esther- had hurt him enough that he wouldn’t go off chasing silly emotions like love or pity. This wouldn’t be a repeat of William, in fact Montague was already more than that freedom chasing fool would ever be.

Caleb could tell Montague had something to say so he waited until the boy was ready to speak. “I thought familiars were just… animals. For so long. I-I still can’t see why you wanted one. Much less… me.”

“I can see you were never informed of your own power.” He clicked his tongue in disappointment, not exactly at Montague but he wanted to see the reaction. It terrified the boy. “A familiar is not just an animal. Magicians throughout the ages have taken pride in their familiars because of their abilities.”

“What abilities?” Montague scoffed. “I can’t do anything without Esther, or I guess you.”

“But you can, Esther simply failed to show you what you can do.” Caleb smiled. “All the magic I can do and more, that is what you are capable of. And I will teach you everything I know.” he promised.

Monty’s eyes flickered a gorgeous deep indigo just at the thought of doing magic. A testament to how much power he held. “When can we start?”

#dead boy detectives #julie and the phantoms #monty the crow #monty finch #caleb covington #jatp x dbda #dbda x jatp #If i do more parts i probably won't main tag the fandoms just because idk how much crossover there is #also on ao3 #my writing

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