#i kinda went completely ham on this ask

[lyn31]

I seriously can't get enough of your story 😍 so can i request one where zayne went on a boys trip with the twins? Maybe when the twins are older and they went camping to spend boys time while MC and Serena spends their girls day too, going shopping and spa day 😂

Thank youu! I'm glad you like them! 🥹☺️ I try my best and honestly you guys give such a great prompt, how can I not? 🫶🏻

And uhh I might've going ham with this prompt... Hopefully you don't mind! It's still capture the bonding vibes! Let me know what you think! 👀💕

P.S. This is quite late but I hope you enjoy them!

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Girls vs Boys 🏆💖

Summary

During a chaotic but heartfelt trips split between parents and kids, a playful competition brings a family closer together, culminating in a quiet, tender night where distance can't dim their love.

Ao3 link

My Masterlist ✨

Notes

Pairing: Zayne x MC/Reader Parenthood AU, family competition, silly, banter, chaos, family fluff, split trips!

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The living room is wrapped in soft, sleepy light, the only real glow coming from holographic screen. The popcorn bowl sits abandoned on the coffee table, half-empty and a little stale, but no one seems to mind. Serena is curled on the floor against the couch, absently scrolling on her phone between glances at the movie.

You’re half-watching, half-dozing, tucked under a blanket and pressed against Zayne's side, his arm loosely around you, a mug of tea in his other hand. Callum and Lucas, meanwhile, are sitting on the edge of the couch cushions, completely locked into the movie like it's the greatest event of the year.

Onscreen, the boys in the film are in the middle of some ridiculous river-jumping stunt, whooping and splashing, while the girls sit primly on a blanket, reading magazines and complaining about getting their shoes wet. It's meant to be funny, but the second the scene plays out, Callum wrinkles his nose, arms crossed tight against his chest.

"Why are the girls just sitting there?" he asks flatly, like he's personally offended.

You snort a quiet laugh. "Maybe they don't want to get wet."

Callum doesn't even look away from the screen, eyebrows drawn. "They're at a river. That's the whole point."

Lucas grins, kicking his feet against the coffee table. "Maybe they're scared they'd lose their fake eyelashes," he throws out, a little too gleefully.

Zayne hums, setting his mug down with a muted clink. "A tragic loss, no doubt," he says dryly.

Serena snorts softly but doesn't bother looking up from her phone.

Callum leans forward, elbows on his knees, taking it way too seriously. "It’s not even about the river," he mutters, almost to himself. "It's about having fun. How can they have no fun? Just sitting there?"

You nudge him with your foot under the blanket. "Not everyone thinks jumping into a freezing river is fun, Cal."

He shrugs like you’ve just proven his point. "Then do something else. It's weird if you can't have fun at all."

Lucas starts laughing, pointing an accusatory finger. "You’re saying that, but you stayed inside for like three hours playing chess with Dad last weekend."

Callum barely blinks. "Chess is fun."

He says it so matter-of-factly that even Zayne huffs a low laugh, lifting his cup to hide his smile.

You catch Zayne's glance over the rim of his tea, that subtle, traitorous spark in his eyes. He lets the silence stretch before murmuring, "Perhaps they are simply displaying a refined sense of leisure."

You squint at him, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. "Are you implying I'm boring?"

Zayne doesn’t even pretend to deny it. He sets his tea down and leans back, looking perfectly relaxed as he says, "Merely drawing comparisons, my love."

Lucas, sensing blood in the water, jumps right in. "Well... it’s kinda true, Mom. You don’t really go out anymore unless someone makes you. Mostly me. Any of you, actually, I’m the only one that go out in this household."

Callum perks up immediately, ignoring the indirect jab at himself. "Yeah! Even sis only goes out if her friends ask her. Otherwise, she just stays home all weekend."

Serena lifts her head at that, slow and cold like a cat eyeing a particularly stupid bird. Her face is blank, but her stare is sharp.

You press a hand dramatically over your heart. "Wow. My own children. Mutiny."

Serena shifts just enough to tilt her chin up, voice smooth and unimpressed. "I choose not to waste my energy on unnecessary outings."

Lucas howls with laughter, clapping his hands once. "She makes it sound like survival training!"

Before you can retaliate, Zayne’s voice cuts through, low and deliberate. "Perhaps we should determine which side is truly more adept at enjoying themselves."

Callum, naturally, sits up even straighter. "Boys versus girls."

You toss the blanket off your shoulders and lean forward, grinning like you're ready to start a war. "You really think you can out-fun us?"

Serena doesn't even hesitate, her phone finally forgotten as she lifts her eyes, bright with the spark of a challenge. "Challenge accepted."

Lucas looks between you and Serena, then between Zayne and Callum, the conflict clear on his face. His loyalty is visibly tearing him apart.

Zayne reaches over and ruffles his hair, calm and merciless. "Choose wisely."

Lucas lets out a high-pitched squeak of betrayal. "I—I'm with the boys," he blurts, and instantly looks like he regrets it when you fix him with your best betrayed glare. Which only last for so long.

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The house feels lighter the next morning, charged with that strange, chaotic energy only kids on a mission can create. Sunlight spills through the windows in wide stripes, the smell of coffee curling through the air as you shuffle into the kitchen, still in your pajamas.

Zayne is already there, dressed and terrifyingly awake, sipping from his mug like he didn’t just spend the night plotting with your sons. You eye him suspiciously over the rim of your own coffee cup.

He offers you a mild look, like he's completely innocent.

You’re not fooled for a second.

From the living room comes the sound of shuffling papers and the unmistakable screech of markers against a whiteboard.

You blink. "Please tell me they’re not—"

Zayne sets his mug down with a soft clink. "Organizing strategic operations? I would never interfere in such noble pursuits."

You narrow your eyes and march into the living room, mug in hand.

Serena’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, flipping through her phone with a long-suffering look. Lucas is on his stomach, legs kicking idly in the air, while Callum stands at the whiteboard — where did they even get that — furiously sketching out some kind of insane tournament bracket.

When he sees you, Callum gestures dramatically toward the board with the marker, accidentally smudging part of his carefully drawn grid. "Mom, we’re making it official. We’re keeping score."

You sip your coffee slowly, watching this madness unfold.

Lucas pushes himself up on his elbows. "We need to plan what we’re doing too, Mom. Girls versus boys. We can't just... wing it."

Serena glances up. "I vote a spa day."

You point your coffee mug at her approvingly. "Excellent start."

Callum immediately frowns. "You can't just... relax. That's not showing you’re better at having fun."

Serena tilts her head, unbothered. "Maybe the fact that we know how to relax is proof enough."

Lucas leans over and stage-whispers to Callum, loud enough that you definitely hear him. "I don’t think they get it."

You set your coffee down on the table and crack your knuckles, grinning wide. "Alright, gentlemen. You want competition? You’re gonna get it."

Zayne appears behind you, resting a hand lightly on your shoulder, voice perfectly composed. "I do hope you're prepared for the inevitable."

You glance back at him. "When we win, you’re buying me new shoes."

He just smiles, slow and inscrutable, the kind of smile that makes you want to simultaneously kiss him and throw something at him.

Callum uncaps another marker — different color, obviously for official documentation purposes — and writes in big, messy letters across the top of the board.

THE ULTIMATE FUN-OFF.

Lucas helpfully adds, underneath in smaller writing.

(boys win)

You reach over with your free hand and flick his ear gently. "We'll see about that."

The day spirals from there. Lists start appearing — scribbled on the backs of receipts, napkins, the margins of old homework sheets. The boys argue about whether camping counts as more "fun" than golfing.

Serena starts Googling luxury hotel day spas with an intensity that makes you proud. Zayne, the traitor, is calmly suggesting "team-building activities" to the twins like he’s coaching a corporate retreat.

It’s official. For the next two days, it’s all-out war.

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Saturday morning hits like a starting gun.

The house buzzes with a kind of frantic excitement — duffel bags by the door, packed lunches crammed into backpacks, Serena calmly adjusting her sunglasses like she’s already won, and Lucas bouncing from foot to foot like an overcaffeinated rabbit.

You’re triple-checking your tote bag while Zayne leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching the chaos with that irritatingly serene little smile. Like a man who's already accepted his fate.

The twins are a hurricane.

Callum slings a sleeping bag over his shoulder like a knight ready for battle. Lucas tries — and fails — to zip his jacket one-handed while waving a list in the other.

Serena, cool as ever, tucks a printed reservation confirmation into her bag. "Spa, then shopping, then dinner," she says, ticking the points off on her fingers. "No room for failure."

You smirk, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. "We’ll be the picture of elegance."

Callum, overhearing, scoffs loudly. "You can’t win at elegance."

Serena’s lips curve into a dangerous little smile. "Can and will."

Zayne pushes off the wall, plucking the keys off the hook by the door. "Let’s not keep the competition waiting."

At the threshold, there’s a brief, chaotic tangle of goodbyes and last-minute sabotage.

Callum boldly holds out his hand for a shake — official-like, serious — and you grasp it with the solemnity of a general meeting a worthy opponent.

"We'll try not to have too much fun without you," you say, voice syrup-sweet.

Lucas, already halfway out the door, yells over his shoulder, "You’re gonna lose so bad!"

You call after him, cupping your hands around your mouth dramatically, "Tell the river we said hi when you chicken out of jumping in!"

Zayne chuckles, shaking his head, guiding the twins toward the car. He casts one last glance back at you, his eyes glinting with mischief.

"You'll surrender by nightfall," he says smoothly.

You grin. "Dream bigger, darling."

And with that, the doors slam — two cars peeling out in opposite directions like it’s some kind of ridiculous family action movie.

Operation Fun-Off has officially begun.

And no matter who wins, you already know it’s going to be one hell of a weekend.

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The drive out to the campground is full of loud arguing over which songs to play, Lucas singing badly on purpose, and Zayne calmly regretting every life decision that led him to this moment.

By the time they pull into the dirt parking lot at the edge of the forest, the twins are practically vibrating with excitement.

Callum unbuckles before the car even stops moving, ready for war.

Lucas is plastered against the window, gasping dramatically. "There's a real lake! Dad, there’s a lake! We’re gonna swim, right?"

Zayne, shutting off the engine and sipping the last of his coffee with resigned grace, says, "Assuming you survive tent construction."

Callum’s already yanking the trunk open, barking orders like a miniature general.

"Lucas, get the poles! Dad, we need the tarp first! We have to make camp before anything else!"

Lucas immediately drops his duffel on the ground with a thud and salutes.

"Aye-aye, Captain Nerd."

Zayne lifts an eyebrow, utterly unbothered. "How fortunate that neither of you are in charge of a real expedition."

They tromp down the wooded path to their reserved spot — a sunny clearing ringed with towering pines, with the lake glittering just through the trees.

It’s… actually perfect.

Zayne sets down the cooler and stretches, surveying the site like he’s mentally already assigning survival odds.

Callum gets to work immediately, unfolding the tents with surgical precision.

Lucas, meanwhile, gets distracted within thirty seconds — chasing a grasshopper, inspecting weird mushrooms, dramatically gasping every time he finds a pinecone.

Zayne handles it like a professional.

He helps Callum hammer in the stakes, corrects Lucas’s lopsided sleeping bag setup without comment, and listens patiently as Callum lectures on "optimal wind resistance" like he’s applying for a PhD.

When one of the tent poles smacks Lucas in the forehead — his own fault — naturally, Zayne wordlessly uses his Evol and presses it against the kid’s head with a soft, "Cause and effect."

Ten minutes later, the camp is up. Two tents, a firepit prepped, and the lake calling like a siren in the distance.

Callum beams proudly at their work, hands on his hips.

Lucas is already shirtless, halfway to the water, yelling back,

"C'mon, old man! Last one in is a rotten pinecone!"

Zayne sighs like a man bearing the weight of the world… then calmly toes off his shoes and follows them down to the lake, a small smile in his face.

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Meanwhile, somewhere far from dirt and bugs, the girls arrive at their hotel in style.

The valet practically jogs over when you pull up — the car not even fully stopped before he's offering to unload your bags with a polished smile.

You stretch your arms overhead, stepping out into the warm afternoon sun, already feeling like you made the correct life choice.

Serena steps out after you, giving the hotel a once-over — her gaze sweeping from the sparkling glass windows to the neatly pruned hedges.

She hums thoughtfully, like she’s reviewing a case file.

You nudge her lightly with your elbow. "Approval rating?"

She shrugs, acting unimpressed, but still grins anyway. "It'll do."

You laugh, pulling your bag over your shoulder as you text Zayne.

Hope you remembered how to make fire, caveman🔥

No response yet. Probably busy setting up... or rescuing Lucas from a rogue squirrel.

Inside, the lobby smells faintly of lavender and fresh linen, the air conditioning hitting just right after the drive.

You check in, grab your key cards, and head toward the elevator, already dreaming of the spa package you booked.

Serena walks beside you, scrolling her phone idly.

Then, she glances over and says, "We should send them a picture."

You blink. "Now?"

She lifts one brow. "Tactical psychological advantage."

You snort, already pulling out your phone. "You're evil. I love it."

You drag Serena into a quick selfie — both of you smirking like you own the place, hotel chandeliers glinting dramatically behind you.

You slap a filter on it because you’re not above being a little petty and caption it.

[Girls: 1 | Boys: 0]

Hit send.

You tuck your phone away like it’s a done deal.

You're just stepping into the elevator when your phone buzzes back.

New message from Zayne.

You open it — and immediately laugh.

It’s a photo of Callum and Lucas midair, frozen in time as they cannonball into a glittering lake — arms flailing, faces pure chaos.

Zayne’s caption underneath, dry as ever.

Progress report: unbroken spirits. Minor casualties probable.

You grin so wide it makes your cheeks hurt.

Serena leans over to see and simply says, deadpan.

"They're going to get pneumonia."

You sling an arm around her shoulders as the elevator doors close.

"Let them live a little."

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The moment Zayne hits send, a loud splash erupts from the lake.

Two bodies crash into the water in near perfect unison, a wave of ripples spreading outward like a small explosion.

Callum surfaces first, shaking the water from his hair like a golden retriever, eyes gleaming.

Lucas pops up a second later, coughing and laughing, wiping water from his face.

"You got water up your nose?" Callum grins, swimming lazily toward him.

"Obviously," Lucas sputters, flailing one arm to send a splash right at Callum’s head.

From where he stands on the dock, Zayne watches the chaos with a patient kind of amusement — one hand in his jacket pocket, the other holding his phone.

A few droplets hit his boots. He doesn’t even flinch.

"Do try not to drown before dinner," he calls, voice even.

Callum yells back, "We're fine!"

Lucas just floats on his back, giving a clumsy thumbs-up to the sky.

Zayne’s mouth lifts. He steps back slightly from the water’s edge, tucking his phone away, glancing toward their campsite.

Their tents are already up — two neat domes nestled between the trees, with the campfire spot cleared and ready.

Supplies are stacked in organized piles: cooler, lanterns, folded chairs. He’d let the boys “help,” of course. Supervising their lopsided tent-tying with the quiet patience of a man pretending not to correct everything afterward.

Now, with the sun lowering and the lake catching streaks of gold, it feels almost... perfect.

Zayne crouches down by the dock, waiting for them to swim closer.

Callum reaches first, grabbing the wood slats and pulling himself up, dripping and grinning.

Lucas follows, panting and flushed from the cold.

"We win, right?" Lucas asks breathlessly, pushing his wet hair back from his forehead.

Zayne raises an eyebrow, dry as the desert.

"You’ve succeeded in getting wet and mildly hypothermic. Congratulations."

Callum snorts, shaking out his hair like a dog again.

"We’re gonna win this whole weekend," he says, completely confident.

Lucas nods eagerly, shivering but proud.

Zayne stands, brushing nonexistent dust from his jeans.

"Then perhaps you should begin by changing into something less likely to freeze you alive."

Callum salutes like a little soldier.

Lucas almost slips on the wet dock trying to copy him.

Zayne catches him by the back of the collar before he can faceplant. A rescue done so smoothly, Lucas doesn’t even realize it happened until he's upright again.

"Come on," Zayne says, ushering them toward camp. "Dinner awaits. And your inevitable descent into exhaustion."

"Never!" Lucas crows, fist-pumping.

Zayne says nothing, but the slight curve to his mouth is answer enough.

As they trek back up toward camp, shoes squelching and hair dripping trails behind them, Zayne feels the soft buzz of his phone in his pocket.

He lets the boys charge ahead — Lucas challenging Callum to a race that neither of them actually wins because they keep shoving each other — and pulls the device out with a smooth motion.

A new photo lights up the screen.

It’s you and Serena at the spa already —

You’re lounging in plush white robes, feet soaking in steaming water, faces aglow with the kind of smug peace only a good massage and overpriced herbal tea can buy. Serena, true to form, has a smirk on her face, holding up a tiny "V" sign with her fingers.

You, meanwhile, have your chin tilted high like a queen on her throne, one brow lifted as if daring him to say you weren’t winning this challenge already.

The caption underneath reads.

Real winners know how to relax properly. 💋

Zayne huffs a soft, almost inaudible laugh through his nose. He types back with one hand, thumb moving lazily.

Enjoy your fleeting lead, darling. The boys have already bathed in the sacred waters of victory.

A second buzz — you reply almost immediately.

Sacred waters? Is that what you're calling a mossy lake now? 😂

His mouth twitches. He tucks the phone away before Lucas or Callum can come running back to spy over his shoulder.

He catches up to the boys easily, long strides closing the distance.

Callum’s already digging through the cooler, pulling out hot dogs and marshmallows with the manic energy only a half-drowned ten-year-old can summon.

Lucas is hopping from foot to foot, hyping himself up for s'mores like he's preparing for battle.

Zayne calmly rolls up his sleeves.

It’s going to be a long — and very amusing — night.

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You tuck your phone into the pocket of the ridiculously soft spa robe, the memory of Zayne’s reply still making you smirk to yourself.

The warm air wraps around you like a second blanket. Somewhere nearby, a small waterfall installation murmurs quietly, and the low music thrums against the floor.

Serena slides into the chair next to yours, her hair twisted up in a neat coil, already looking like she belongs in one of those "treat yourself" commercials.

"You know," you murmur, swirling the edge of your water glass, "we are absolutely destroying them in style points."

Serena lifts an eyebrow, "But we still need more.” Then as serious as she can manage, she adds. “Style does not equate to fun. Victory requires substance."

You laugh, reaching for one of the spa menus.

"Since when did you start quoting philosophical battle tactics during a girls’ weekend?"

She hums, plucking a grape from the fruit platter between you. "We need to win after all."

Fair enough.

The attendant approaches with a gentle smile, offering the next scheduled treat: deep tissue massages. Serena stands gracefully. You, a little less so — grinning and bumping her shoulder as you pass.

"Last one to fall asleep during the massage owes the other ice cream," you declare.

"No need," she says without missing a beat. "You'll definitely lose, mom."

You gasp in mock betrayal, letting the warmth and lightness of the moment sink into your bones.

No worries about house chores, no nagging thoughts about whether Callum and Lucas packed enough socks — just now, just this.

And the quiet, perfect knowledge that tomorrow, you'd win this competition with your head held high.

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The massage ends in a blissful, floaty haze.

You barely remember changing out of your spa robe into your comfy dress, barely remembering tugging Serena along by the hand with you through the hotel's grand hallway, giggling under your breath like teenagers sneaking out past curfew.

Serena walks beside you, arms crossed loosely, a faint pink flush still on her cheeks from the massage.

It’s the most relaxed you’ve seen her in weeks — her steps a little lighter, her usual guarded look softened into something almost dreamy.

You nudge her lightly with your elbow.

"Good idea, huh?"

Serena hums, almost smug. "I don't make poor plans."

You snort, shaking your head. Of course she’s enjoying herself — she orchestrated half of this weekend like a tactician preparing for battle.

The restaurant smells like heaven — garlic butter, fresh bread, sizzling meat — and by the time you're seated by the window, your stomach is practically singing.

You tug your phone out, expecting maybe another picture from Zayne — but this time it's Callum taking the picture.

A blurry shot of Lucas roasting a marshmallow that's already half on fire, with Callum's laughing face poking into the corner.

You grin and turn the screen toward Serena.

She leans in, studying it for a second — and then just shakes her head with a small laugh, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Of course they're already burning things."

You snicker. "It's a rite of passage. They're doing it right."

Serena leans back in her chair, stretching her arms overhead lazily, looking more relaxed than she has in months.

"Yeah, but we're still winning," she says easily. "No offense to charred marshmallows, but I'm about to demolish an entire steak."

You tap back a quick reply.

Meanwhile, we’re about to eat real food like civilized people.

Serena steals a breadstick off the table, twirling it between her fingers.

"Should we really give them hope this early?" she teases.

You narrow your eyes playfully. "You're right. We should crush their spirits after dessert."

That earns a real laugh from her — quick, warm, and completely genuine.

It feels... good. Like you're not just ticking off a "girls' day" list — you're living it.

Dinner comes fast — steaks for both of you, because obviously, you had to match your teenage daughter’s pride-fueled order.

You even toast with your fancy sparkling waters like you're on some diplomatic mission to showcase how much fun you're having without them.

And then — when the plates are cleared, when the waiter brings out a molten lava cake the size of your head — you and Serena exchange a look.

No words needed.

This was the moment.

You swipe your phone out and snap a picture.

The two of you sitting side-by-side, forks plunged dramatically into the gooey cake, Serena flashing a rare, real smile at the camera, you throwing up a peace sign like a proud tourist.

You send it straight to Zayne with one caption.

Living our best lives. 🍰💅

A few seconds later, the little "read" symbol appears next to all their names.

You can practically feel the boys fuming across the map.

Serena leans over to peek at your phone, then lifts her hand for a fist bump.

You bump it without hesitation, laughing.

"Think we broke them?" you ask.

Serena smirks, light and easy.

"Not yet," she says. "But give it an hour."

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“They’re having cakes?!” Lucas says, peering at the picture over Zayne’s shoulder, the marshmallow still burning on the stick he’s holding.

“We have marshmallows, it’s just as sweet.” Callum says calmly.

“That’s not the same!” Lucas replies, throwing his hands up dramatically and Zayne could not help but agreeing in silent about cake being different.

Truth be told, Zayne had planned to bring some cake. They couldn't eat it tomorrow, but at least they could have it tonight.

But when Callum caught him sneaking it into the supplies, he'd immediately vetoed it — said it didn't fit the camping vibe.

So with a heavy heart, the cake is left behind.

Zayne reaches for another marshmallow, skewering it slowly as he watches Callum and Lucas grumble around the fire.

"Clearly," Zayne says, "we are on the verge of a morale crisis."

Lucas slumps dramatically onto the ground beside him. "We're gonna lose because we don't have cake."

"We can still win. We just have to... have more fun." Callum says mildly, tilting his head. He inspects his own half-burnt marshmallow like he's judging it in a culinary contest.

Zayne suppresses a smile, watching them both spiral.

"Alright," he says, setting down his mug of tea. "New plan."

Lucas perks up immediately, always ready for chaos. Callum narrows his eyes suspiciously.

Zayne leans in slightly, the firelight catching in the dark strands of his hair — with a few glints of silver — making him look almost conspiratorial.

"I hereby declare," he says solemnly, "the First Annual Great Nighttime Campfire Challenge."

Lucas sits up straighter. "What's that?"

"Simple," Zayne says. "A series of highly sophisticated, extremely scientific tests to determine who is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the ultimate campfire champion."

"What's the prize?" Callum asks immediately, practical as always.

Zayne lifts a brow. "The knowledge that you salvaged the honor of this camp," he continues. "Also, I'll let the winner pick breakfast tomorrow."

Lucas slaps his knee. "I'm in."

Callum gives a rare grin. "You're on."

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Challenge One: Marshmallow Artistry

Last event. Decorating their marshmallows with "faces" using sticks, charcoal smudges, and pure creativity.

Lucas painstakingly crafts a little charcoal face on his marshmallow — complete with angry eyebrows.

Callum leans into his scientist instincts, carefully shaping his into what looks suspiciously like a marshmallow knight.

Zayne doesn't even bother — he just stabs two tiny holes for "eyes" and calls it minimalist horror.

Lucas insists Zayne's is "way creepier" and demands bonus points.

Zayne records the whole chaotic scene on his phone — shaky footage of Lucas posing his marshmallow "soldiers" dramatically,

Callum critiquing everyone's technique like a food judge, the firelight flickering wildly behind them.

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Challenge Two: One-Sentence Scary Story

Zayne pokes the fire with a stick, sending a shower of sparks into the air.

"Next," he says. "One-sentence horror stories. Quickfire."

Callum clears his throat first, serious as always.

"The tent zipper moved... but no one was outside."

Lucas shudders dramatically.

"Okay, okay, my turn," Lucas says, bouncing.

He lowers his voice for effect. "I opened my backpack... and it whispered, 'Finally.'"

Zayne huffs a soft laugh through his nose. "Creative," he says.

Lucas pumps his fist like he just won an Oscar.

"Dad's turn!" Lucas says, pointing.

Zayne pretends to think, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

Then, dead serious. "The marshmallows burned themselves... and came for revenge."

Callum actually snorts.

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Challenge Three: Shadow Puppet Showdown

Zayne flicks on the camp lantern, aiming it against the side of the tent to cast a wide sheet of light.

"Last test," he says. "Best shadow creature wins."

Lucas immediately tries to form a dragon with his hands, but it ends up looking more like a melted turtle.

Callum, cool and methodical, crafts a surprisingly good-looking wolf howling at an invisible moon.

Lucas whines in outrage. "That’s not fair! You’ve got long fingers! It’s an advantage!"

"You have the same hands," Callum points out, trying not to hit his brother on the head.

Zayne captures the moment on his phone, angling the lens just right to get Lucas’s indignant face and Callum’s smugly perfect wolf in the same frame.

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At the end, Lucas dramatically falls backward onto the grass, arms spread wide.

"I hereby proclaim," he says, starry-eyed, "that we are living our best lives."

Callum just hums in agreement, roasting another marshmallow with calm efficiency.

Zayne finishes the video with a slow pan across the scene — burnt marshmallows, bad shadow puppets, and two boys laughing like idiots under the stars — before pocketing his phone with a rare, soft smile, wondering if they were smiling just as brightly wherever they were.

And later that night, while the boys are winding down in their tents, Zayne quietly sends the video to you.

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The sun creeps lazily through the curtains, painting soft lines across the bed. You’re sprawled on your stomach, one arm dangling off the edge.

You blink blearily, half-buried under the covers, and grope for your phone.

And you see it first.

A video.

You squint at the thumbnail — firelight, figures moving — and swipe it open.

Immediately, laughter crackles from the speaker.

The scene wobbles a little — Zayne’s steady hand holding the phone while Lucas and Callum race around the campfire like idiots, waving burnt marshmallows like they’re staging a medieval battle.

It switches to a different scene where they tell one-sentence horror stories — so bad they make you snort — and then it ended with them doing shadow puppet.

The fire casts everything in golden orange and deep blue shadows, and there’s this hum to it — a warm, simple kind of joy that tugs at your heart.

You grin, feeling your chest squeeze unexpectedly.

“Awww,” you whisper, completely forgetting your whole “crush their spirits” plan.

You replay the video, noticing this time how Zayne stays just behind the camera, his voice dry and amused when he occasionally comments.

You wish — selfishly — he’d turned the lens just a little.

Captured himself there too, caught in that easy, unguarded happiness.

You sigh dramatically, rolling onto your back, cradling the phone to your chest like you’re in some cheesy drama.

"I miss them already, my idiot boys," you mutter.

The bathroom door creaks open, and Serena steps out in a cloud of fresh soap and steam, towel slung around her neck.

"What's that?" she asks, rubbing at her damp hair.

You hold up the phone. "They sent a video," you say, grinning. "It's adorable. Like, actually adorable. Lucas almost set Callum on fire, they did a bunch of things before going to bed. Your dad recorded the whole thing."

Serena wanders over, curious. You hit play again.

This time, Serena watches without a word — just standing there, towel in hand, taking it in.

Her mouth twitches, something small and fond flickering across her face.

That same warm ache stirs in your chest again. Even though she doesn’t say it, you can read it clear as day.

But then — Serena catches herself, sharp as ever.

She claps her hands once, briskly.

"No, Mom. Focus," she says, dead serious. "We have a mission."

You blink, caught between laughing and groaning.

Serena points at you like a coach rallying her team.

"They had their night of marshmallow madness. Now it's our turn to dominate. Today's gonna be even better."

You salute weakly from your bed. "Yes, Commander."

Serena smirks. "Get dressed. Battle resumes after breakfast."

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

After breakfast — a ridiculously good spread of fresh fruit, pancakes, and dangerously strong coffee — you and Serena find yourselves standing in front of a miniature golf course that can only be described as aggressively whimsical.

There are neon-colored windmills. A pirate ship with actual cannons that fire bubbles. An enormous plastic dragon with a moving tail guarding the last hole.

Serena surveys the course like a general inspecting a battlefield, arms crossed, lips pursed.

You bump her shoulder lightly with yours.

"You ready to dominate?"

She lifts an eyebrow, deadpan. "Dominate? Mom, I'm about to revolutionize the sport."

You snort, handing her one of the fluorescent pink golf balls.

It starts off simple.

You laugh your way through the first few holes — missing easy shots because you're too busy trash-talking, or getting distracted by the random animatronic animals popping up from hidden traps.

By the fifth hole, Serena's competitive side is fully awake.

She lines up her putt like she’s on the PGA tour, adjusting her stance three times, measuring the angle, squinting at the slight incline of the plastic grass.

You’re mostly trying to not trip over the ridiculously large foam cactus next to the hole.

She sinks her shot perfectly.

You — less so.

Your ball bounces off a pirate’s foot, ricochets off a rock, and somehow ends up in a completely different hole.

Serena claps. "Impressive. Wrong, but impressive."

You throw your arms up. "I call it creative routing," you declare grandly. "You just don't understand my vision, sweetie."

Serena laughs — a real, sharp laugh that echoes across the fake river by the dragon hole.

At one point, when you both reach the castle-themed hole — complete with a mini drawbridge that goes up and down randomly — Serena gets caught mid-putt and the bridge slams shut.

You both absolutely lose it, doubled over laughing as her ball pathetically rolls back toward her feet.

"I'm being sabotaged," she cries dramatically.

"Welcome to the rebellion," you say solemnly.

By the end, neither of you are really keeping score. You're just trying to out-dramatic each other — flopping to the ground after misses, posing heroically after successful shots, fake-arguing over whose ball had more "style points."

When you finally make it through the dragon hole — Serena dramatically riding her victory by pretending to joust with her putter — you feel flushed, happy, and genuinely full in a way that has nothing to do with breakfast.

Serena holds out her hand for a high five, grinning wide and unguarded.

You slap it without hesitation.

Another point for the girls.

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

The three of them are perched on a makeshift dock Zayne had scouted earlier — fishing poles in hand, lines lazily drifting in the calm lake water.

It’s peaceful — the kind of easy silence that settles in when nobody feels like they have to fill it.

Lucas is the first to break it, squinting at the end of his pole. "Pretty sure the only thing I’ve caught is algae."

Callum shifts beside him, reeling his line in slow and steady. "You can't rush greatness."

Zayne just hums, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s suppressing a smile.

Not because of the fishing — but because, honestly, seeing them both so content is worth the trip already.

His phone buzzes on the wooden slats beside him.

He picks it up — sees the notification from you — and tilts the screen instinctively so the boys can see too.

The video auto-plays.

You're somewhere around hole fourteen — a ridiculous course where you have to bank your shot off a swinging pirate anchor — when Serena absolutely nails it.

She smacks the ball with just the right amount of force, the anchor swings perfectly out of the way, and the ball swirls dramatically around the cup before sinking in clean.

You and Serena both scream — startled, victorious, and completely unable to stop laughing.

Serena doubles over, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.

You grab your phone in a rush and spinning it selfie-style to capture both of you — you still cackling like a lunatic, Serena wiping tears of laughter off her cheeks, both of you absolutely riding the high of the moment.

All three boys just stare for a second.

Then Lucas snorts, cracking up. "No way. Look at Mom — she's about to pass out!"

Callum gives a slow, respectful nod. "Legend behavior."

Zayne... doesn't even bother hiding the way his mouth softens.

He watches it twice without even thinking — the easy happiness spilling out of the screen, the way you and Serena mirror each other perfectly even in your chaos.

Lucas leans back, fake wiping a tear. "They're out there living their best lives... and we're here, being patient, noble, strong men—"

His fishing pole gives a sudden jerk. Lucas yells and scrambles, trying to grab it before it shoots off into the lake.

Zayne leans back, "Noble, huh?"

Callum, completely unfazed, strolls over, stands silently at Lucas’s side, offering absolutely no help. "Pull harder." He adds, which make Lucas shoot him a dead glare for a few second before he goes back to pull his pole.

Cue chaos as Lucas tries to "fight" whatever tiny fish is on the line — swearing vengeance, calling it a “sea monster,” nearly falling off the dock.

Zayne gets it all on video. He sends it back to you with the caption.

Some of us are thriving too. 🐟🏆

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

Serena leans over your shoulder, snorts loudly. You both are eating your lunch when Zayne's send you the video.

"Men," she says, exasperated. "So noble. So dignified."

You cackle, hitting replay.

She taps the screen thoughtfully. "You know what, Mom? We should bring back souvenirs."

You raise an eyebrow. "Weapons of psychological warfare?"

She grins wickedly. "Exactly. Battle supplies."

You laugh, finish the last of your fries, trading glances over the greasy paper tray like you’re reading each other’s minds.

And then you both move.

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

You end up roaming a ridiculous little boardwalk store that sells everything from novelty sunglasses to neon hats shaped like fish.

Serena grabs a set of matching pirate bandanas, waggling her eyebrows. "Intimidation factor: ten out of ten."

You find a T-shirt that says I'd rather be fishing — in glitter font — and hold it up dramatically. "We send this to Lucas. He'll combust."

You pile up a few other stupid prizes — gag gifts, candy shaped like fish, rubber ducks in pirate hats — barely able to carry it all to the counter because you're laughing so hard.

Once the "battle supplies" are secured, you barely pause to catch your breath before heading off to the mani-pedi place — a tiny but ridiculously charming spot with seashell wallpaper and sparkly floors.

Serena picks a bright ocean blue for her nails. You go full chaos: hot pink with tiny glittery fish decals.

When you're finished, you sit side-by-side in the drying chairs, hands outstretched like royalty.

Serena flashes you a grin, holding up her nails. "Best battle armor ever."

You hold yours up to match, snapping a picture of your ridiculous, colorful hands together.

You send it straight to the Zayne —

I think our water theme is much better. 💅🏻💅🏻

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

Callum leans over, lets out a low whistle. "That’s... actually kind of terrifying."

Zayne tilts the screen to get a better look.

Hot pink glitter fish and ocean blue — bright, messy, unapologetic.

Exactly like them.

Lucas bolts upright. "No. No, no, no. We need to do something. We need to make history."

Callum tilts his head thoughtfully. "We could build a raft," he offers. "Like in those survival shows."

Lucas lights up immediately. "YES. Brilliant. I love it. Let's show them real skills."

Zayne raises an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.

"You’re aware," he says mildly, "that building it is only half the battle."

Lucas stands, hands on hips, surveying the lake like he’s about to conquer it. "We build, we conquer. Simple math."

Callum look like he want to argue but then again the conquer part he agree with so he let his brother be.

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

Gathering materials takes longer than expected — sticks, thicker branches, anything that looks like it might survive ten minutes in water.

Zayne oversees it calmly, sometimes pointing out which wood is too rotten or too thin without killing their momentum.

Callum ties knots with the single-minded focus of someone trying to impress fate itself.

Lucas insists on testing every piece by swinging it like a sword first.

"You know," Zayne says at one point, as Lucas dramatically jousts a tree, "the raft won't fight back."

Lucas waves him off. "Durability is important, dad."

Somehow — somehow — after an hour of arguing, hauling, and nearly capsizing the project before it even hits the water, the raft is complete.

A lopsided miracle of rope, logs, and chaotic teamwork.

They drag it to the water's edge, breathless and proud.

"You first," Callum tells Lucas, smirking.

Lucas squints suspiciously. "Why me?"

"You have better balance," Callum lies smoothly.

Lucas beams — and steps onto the raft like a true hero.

For about three seconds.

Then the whole thing tilts, dumps him into the lake with a spectacular splash, and rocks right back into place like nothing happened.

Callum actually claps. Zayne just pulls his phone out and films the tail-end of Lucas sputtering up from the water, grinning.

"Send that to Mom!" Lucas yells from the shallows, wiping lake water from his face. "We’re winning!"

Zayne chuckles under his breath — and hits send.

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

The sun’s barely dipped below the horizon by the time you and Serena stumble back into your hotel room, still riding the buzz of the day.

The windows are cracked open, letting in the cool evening breeze, and the two of you move in lazy tandem — trading your ridiculous shopping bags for pajamas, peeling off shoes, tossing your new "battle supplies" onto the bed like treasure after a long quest.

"No thoughts," Serena says, already digging out her skincare pouch. "Only serotonin and sheet masks."

You cackle and throw yourself onto the bed, arms splayed. "I second that motion."

But before you dive into the sheet masks and your usual post-adventure routine, you both hear the familiar ping of a new message from your phone.

You grab your phone, swiping it open to reveal the latest video from the boys — the raft disaster. You can’t help but snicker as it auto-plays.

Lucas is sputtering in the lake, the raft tipping over in a ridiculously cinematic fashion. Callum’s standing by, looking mildly entertained, and Zayne is filming the whole thing with a faint, amused smile tugging at his lips. The video ends with Lucas shouting that they’re “winning” while dripping wet.

You laugh loudly, and Serena deadpans, “If we didn’t already have enough reasons to roast them…”

Within minutes, you’re both in your pajamas, faces plastered with cooling sheet masks — Serena’s a shimmering silver one that makes her look like a futuristic warrior; yours has bright pink flamingos on it, because of course it does.

You snap a photo together — masks on, thumbs up, peace signs — and fire it to Zayne without even thinking.

Relaxing with style and less cleaning needed. ✨

You try not to laugh because of your mask but it slips anyway.

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

Dinner happens more or less the same way the raft did — messy, chaotic, and somehow perfect.

The sun’s low now, the lake gleaming like molten glass in the background as the boys sit around a crackling firepit with paper plates full of food balanced precariously on their knees.

Lucas is still damp from the raft incident, his hair sticking up every which way, but that doesn’t stop him from eagerly roasting a marshmallow over the fire.

Zayne sits beside him, infinitely calmer, holding his own marshmallow with the detached focus of a man who’s been through worse.

Callum, somehow, looks personally offended at the sight of them.

"You’re eating sugar again," he says, voice tight with judgment.

Lucas shrugs. "We earned it."

Zayne just gives a mild nod of agreement and takes a slow, deliberate bite of the toasted marshmallow, locking eyes with Callum like he’s issuing a challenge.

Callum glares, arms crossed. "Traitors."

Lucas snickers and shoves another marshmallow on the stick.

Zayne's phone buzzes with a new message. He wipes his hands absently and checks it — and a laugh huffs out of him before he can help it.

He angles the screen so the boys can see.

You and Serena, victorious, covered in ridiculous sheet masks and looking completely unbothered by the day’s events.

Lucas sputters a marshmallow out of his mouth. "WHAT. How do they still look cooler than us?!"

Callum just buries his head in his arms, groaning dramatically.

Zayne chuckles low under his breath and taps a reply.

That’s a fair strategy. Less cleaning, more lounging. I approve.

Lucas looking over at Zayne’s reply, groans, throwing a half-eaten marshmallow in the air, then catching it like he’s on some kind of mission. “Less cleaning, more lounging. Real smooth, Dad.”

Callum eyes the screen with exaggerated judgment, shaking his head slowly. “You know, I think Dad’s trying to start a new trend… Just gotta add a little more action to it.” He taps his marshmallow stick against the table like a pointer.

Zayne, still holding his phone, smirks. “I’ll leave the trendsetting to you guys. You’ve got that covered.”

Both boys give a simultaneous dramatic sigh, but then Lucas leans toward the screen again.

“You’re just jealous of our raft, Dad. Admit it.”

Callum shrugs. “I don’t know, man. It looked a little... unstable.”

With a tired groan, Lucas falls into his sleeping bag. “Alright, what else can we do tonight?” he asks, but his eyes are already half-closed, his words slower and drowsier than usual.

Zayne watches them, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He feels the shift in their energy, the evening winding down as the last of the sugar high fades.

Lucas kicks off his shoes with a grunt, making a half-hearted attempt to get more comfortable, and in the tent but clearly ready to drift off. Callum, too, settles into his own sleeping bag, pulling the blanket over himself like he's claiming his personal fortress for the night.

“You two need to get some sleep,” Zayne says, voice gentle but firm. He steps into the tent, glancing over at the mess from their raft-building session outside near their campfire. "We’ve got an early morning tomorrow."

Callum doesn’t even look up as he lazily mutters, “You’re no fun, Dad.”

Lucas, his voice muffled by the pillow, lets out a long yawn. “No one can beat our raft,” he says, but it’s more of a tired murmur than a boast.

Zayne chuckles quietly. “I’m sure it’ll be a great story for tomorrow. But right now, I think you need to get some sleep before I have to tell you both a bedtime story.”

Lucas groans but doesn’t fight it. Zayne watches the boys for a moment longer, his phone still in hand as he types back a quick reply, the flicker of the screen a small glow in the dim room.

“Goodnight, Dad,” Callum mumbles sleepily.

“Yeah, goodnight, old man,” Lucas adds, though his voice is already fading into the quiet hum of sleep.

Zayne’s gaze softens as he tucks the blanket in around them with silent care. His movements are practiced, familiar, but there’s something tender about the way he settles them in, ensuring they’re both comfortable, before he steps back and settle at his own sleeping bag with one last glance at his kids.

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

The evening air has cooled just enough for the room to feel cozy, the soft hum of the air conditioning in the background as you and Serena finish peeling off the last remnants of your face masks. You toss yours into the trash with a dramatic sigh, running your hands over your face, feeling the smoothness left behind by the skincare routine.

Serena does the same, her eyes still sparkling with that mischievous energy she always carries. "You know," she says, stretching and flopping back onto the bed, "I think we could be skincare influencers, mom."

You laugh softly, pulling the blanket up around you both as you sit cross-legged on the bed, the glow from your bedside lamp casting a warm, peaceful light on the room. "I don't think anyone’s ready for our level of relaxation."

She snorts, then exhales a contented breath, clearly relaxing more into the space. "Fair. It’s just nice, though. A little pampering after a crazy day."

You smile, glancing at the clock—late enough for both of you to be winding down, but still early enough to enjoy the calm. "We really should do this more often. I forgot how much I missed having this quiet time with you."

Serena, clearly already starting to drift, nods softly. "Yeah. It’s... nice. Good to reset after all the craziness."

Her eyes flutter closed, a lazy smile still on her lips. "Night, Mom," she murmurs, pulling the blanket up just under her chin.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," you reply, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face as she drifts off into sleep. You stay for a moment, watching the peaceful rise and fall of her chest, then quietly slip off the bed, picking up your phone.

As you pull it from the side table, a sudden vibration makes you glance down: a message from Zayne.

You quickly tap the screen to open the message but don’t have time to read it before another notification pops up, this one from Zayne—his name lighting up in a video call request.

A small smile tugs at your lips as you swipe to answer.

As soon as the call connects, Zayne’s face fills the screen, his expression warm but with that playful edge you know so well. His eyes flick down to his phone, then back to you, and you can see the tiny curve tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Hey, husband,” you greet, voice warm as the screen brightens with his face. “How’s the lake?”

“As you can see,” he says, tilting his head just enough to make his damp hair shift messily across his forehead, “still very wet.”

You snort. “That’s what happens when you agree to their idea of camping.”

“We camp sometimes too,” he points out, mild.

“Yeah, but no one warming you up if I'm not there,” you tease, winking.

He huffs a quiet laugh through his nose, and though he doesn’t say anything, the way he looks at you — fond, amused, utterly in agreement — says it all.

“But anyway,” you continue, shifting slightly to get more comfortable without waking Serena, “I see the twins are absolutely having the time of their lives.”

“They really are.” His voice softens a little, and a quick glance down shows you a mess of sleepy dark curls against his chest. “And… I did too.”

“Oh?” You smile, pleased. “That’s good. We might’ve gotten a tiny bit carried away with the competition part, but honestly? I think it worked out, yeah?”

Zayne’s mouth tugs into a half-smile. “It did. How about you two?”

“A blast,” you whisper, glancing down at her sleeping face and feeling your heart squeeze. “We should do this more often, switching it up, or all together, if we can find the time… although, your patients might riot if their favorite doctor keeps disappearing.”

“And Jenna might just ask you to retire,” he says dryly.

You gasp, slapping a hand dramatically to your chest. “She wouldn’t dare!”

He simply raises a brow at you, unimpressed, and you can’t help but laugh under your breath.

“Oh!” you whisper, remembering, excitement sparking. “I almost forgot — can’t wait to give my boys their gift!”

Zayne’s eyes narrow slightly, playful suspicion all over his face. “You bought us something?”

“Oh yes,” you croon, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “Serena even picked it very carefully. Very seriously, mind you.”

He gives you a suspicious look, but you just laugh low, not wanting to wake Serena sleeping beside you.

“What? Not trusting your dear wife and daughter?” you whisper, smiling wide.

Zayne hums, the sound low and amused. He shifts his phone a little, like he’s settling back somewhere more comfortable. In the dim light, you can see a hint of the cabin behind him — rough wood, soft shadows — and the mess of dark curls you recognize immediately as one of the twins sleeping against his chest.

“Just preparing myself for whatever you and Serena consider a carefully picked gift,” he murmurs, voice softer now, edged with something undeniably fond.

You nudge the camera down, showing Serena — all tangled hair and soft breaths — tucked against you. When you tilt it back up, Zayne’s gaze is lingering, his expression gentler.

“They’re getting bigger,” he says quietly.

You nod, a lump catching in your throat, the exhaustion of the day making everything hit a little harder. “Yeah,” you breathe. “Too fast.”

For a beat, neither of you say anything, just listening to the faint sounds of the night from each other’s calls — the twins' even breathing, the cicadas outside the lake house, the rustle of Serena’s tiny hands against your shirt.

“You did good today,” you murmur, almost to yourself.

Zayne blinks, his eyes lazy with tiredness but still so present, so there with you even from miles away. “You did better.”

You chuckle under your breath, the kind of sound you only make when you’re too tired to argue but too full of love not to respond. “Always competing, even now,” you whisper.

“Only because I like losing to you,” he says, the words coming out slower, softer, like the weight of the day is finally pulling at him.

You shift the phone a little, propping it against a pillow. “Dear,” you say quietly, reaching out like you could touch him through the screen. “Sleep here with me.”

He smiles, small and lopsided, like he’s too tired to fight it — like he doesn’t even want to. “I’m already here.”

You both fall silent again, breathing each other in across the distance. His eyes close first, lashes brushing against his cheeks. You watch him, heart aching with a kind of sweet, helpless love.

Your own eyes slip shut not long after, Serena’s warmth against your side, Zayne’s quiet breaths filling your ear.

Miles apart, but still together, you fall asleep with the call still connected, the screen glowing soft between you — a fragile thread of light that never breaks.

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

Notes

Don't mind me tearing up a bit.... This is a trip! Pun intended ofc, but man thinking about what would they do is rough ahahaha I did a lot of stuff indoor but not outdoor 🥹🤣 But I think I'm satisfied with this, hope y'all enjoy the Li family shenanigans!

I was editing to add the rest of the series part but it was too long ahahaha so here's just the whole list: Parenthood AU Masterlist ✨

Although if you missed the Newlyweds series! Here How it all happen And also the Pregnancy series, starting with Try For Baby

[thriftedtchotchkes]

since seeing that pic of pedro’s arms I’ve literally been FERAL all day…. would it be possible for you to write something short about joel’s arms? 🫶🏽 (maybe like how they look when he holds you, when you guys make love, when he’s working, when you hold hands etc) is this weird or even possible idk I just love arms

hi lovely anon!! read this and immediately ran to write it, but i uhhhh missed the part where you said short and went a lil ham. hope you enjoy!

here in your arms

pairing: joel miller x reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, post-outbreak, language, fluff, mentions of body insecurities, comfort, smut, lots and lots of arm touching

word count: 1.8k

It’s hot as all hell in this bedroom, but you’re choosing to ignore it this morning. You’ll gladly sweat to death, even melt into a damn puddle if it means that Joel’s very warm, very naked body stays wrapped around you. 

As long as you can relish his thigh nestled between your legs, and those thick, thick arms pillowed under your head and draped over your waist. You’d burn in hell for all you care. Careful not to wake him, you turn your head slowly to press a kiss into his bicep, and the muscle twitches against your lips. 

The sudden movement startles a soft gasp out of you and fills you with heat so much worse than the stifling humidity in the air. You go completely still, holding your breath for a few moments while you wait to see if he wakes up, but the rise and fall of his chest maintains its steady rhythm against your back. Curiously, you lean in to kiss him a second time and, shit, there it goes again. 

An intrusive thought suddenly pops into your sleep-addled brain, telling you how good it would feel to sink your teeth into the firm, velvety skin. How salty it would taste on your tongue, and how he would probably unconsciously resist you, that twitch becoming a full-blown flex. You give into it before you can stop yourself, roughly biting a bruise into his arm, sucking hard when the muscle spasms into your mouth.

And that definitely wakes him up.

“Christ—w-what the—,” he rips his arm out from under you, and you immediately mourn the loss as your head flops onto his pillow. “—what…baby, the fuck was that for?”

You turn over, looking up at him sheepishly. He looks bleary-eyed, his soft, graying curls in complete disarray, but you can't bring yourself to feel particularly bad. That was totally worth it.

He eyes you expectantly when you don’t immediately answer, still looking dazed and a little stunned after being woken up so abruptly.

“Wanna tell me what that was?” he asks again, voice slurred and thick with sleep. He's propped up on his elbow above you, bicep still in reach, so you press an apologetic kiss into his reddening skin...and your teeth marks.

"I...honestly, I got nothing," you laugh, nuzzling into the crook of his elbow, mouthing wetly around the edges of the bruise. "It was right next to my face, so I kinda just went for it."

Your tongue darts out to taste him and it's even better than you thought, heady and so distinctly Joel, so you continue your path, shifting to the side to brush your lips along his forearm. He tenses, almost imperceptibly, but you feel it keenly, the intricately corded muscles shifting under his tanned, weather-worn skin. 

"You could take it as a compliment," you continue, tilting your head to throw him a cheeky smile. He quirks an eyebrow as if to ask how waking him up at ass o'clock in the morning on his day off could be complimentary. "I'm just admiring all that work you've been putting in on those extra patrol shifts."

He looks a little dubious, and it makes your heart ache. For as long as you've known him, and even more so since you've been together, Joel's never been great with praise, especially when it comes to his body. Maybe it's the age difference or just aging, but he wouldn't allow himself to be vulnerable with you for a long time, emotionally or physically.

He'd hide himself from you, always mumbling things you hated hearing about the softness of his stomach, the lines adorning his brow, or the skin under his arms, and it would make you furious. How dare he say any of that when you love all of those bits and pieces so much?

So, you've made it your personal mission to make sure he knows exactly how sexy he is whenever you get the chance, whether he's covered in grime and viscera, or completely naked and inside you.

"Probably coulda waited until later, don't'cha think?" There's a tiny smile forming on his tired face, and it encourages you to keep going. 

"Yeah, but isn't this more convincing? You looked so good, I couldn't even help myself," you say, running your fingertips along a beautifully jagged scar that runs right through where you bit him. You squeeze his arm teasingly, and he flexes for you, on purpose this time. "So strong," you joke, your tone completely contradicting the ache worsening in your core.

He chuckles, and his whole body shakes with it, jostling the thigh still wedged between your legs. That familiar heat from earlier returns with a vengeance as it drags across where you're still slick with last night's release, and you inhale sharply, catching his attention.

"Ya like my arms that much, huh?" he mumbles, voice unexpectedly gravelly, but the way he's looking at you is so fond, full of affection and something a little more complicated.

"I really, really do," you reply softly, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his wrist to drape his other arm over your waist. He wraps himself around you, pulling you tight against his chest, and you feel so tiny in his arms. Protected.

And he feels so powerful. You barely get the chance to nuzzle into the coarse hairs tickling your cheek before you’re flipped on top of him, knees bracketing his hips. Your hands shoot out to steady yourself and land on his shoulders, squeezing once you've settled into his lap.

His eyes meet yours, and there's that complicated look again, the one you still haven't figured out. Your mind races, searching for the answer, until his hands splay across your waist, thick-fingered and broad. 

And then he's lifting you up, just enough to line himself up with your entrance, and easing you down and up until he's fully seated inside you.

You breathe out a sigh of relief in unison, adjusting to the other as sweat drips freely down your bodies. The room is still scorching, even hotter now with the rising sun and your combined exertion. 

That beautiful flush Joel gets when you're intimate has started to spread from his cheeks down to his neck, spilling across his chest and into those perfect goddamn arms, straining with the effort of holding himself back from fucking into you like he wants to.

But you want something, too.

"Joel, can you...," you breathe out, feeling a little shy for asking but needing it badly enough to go through with it anyway. "Fuck, can you do it, please?"

He looks confused but so needy, nodding his head before he even knows what you're asking for. 

"'Course, baby, whatever you want," he grits out, grip tightening on your waist. "Jus' tell me 'n I'll do it."

"Use me. Want you to show me how strong you are—handle me," you suck your bottom lip wetly into your mouth, trailing your fingers from his shoulders downward, digging your nails into the hard planes of his deltoids. He hisses out a breath through his teeth. "Will you do that for me?"

In lieu of an answer, he lurches forward, sitting up with you in his lap to give you exactly what you asked for. And it's better than you ever could've imagined.

The solid muscle in his upper arms bulges as he drives you up and down his cock, and you wrap your hands around them greedily, feeling every expansion and contraction. Your mouth waters as you watch his thick, prominent veins strain against his skin, and you're hit with a sudden, strong urge to bite him again. 

So, you do. You bend down to suck hard at the taught skin, and his responding groan is so loud and drawn out, you feel it rumble beneath your lips.

"Shit—baby, you keep doin' that, 'm not gonna last long," he moans into your ear, still bouncing you on his cock, showing zero signs of slowing down. 

Fuck, how is he so strong? He's lifting you up and down like you're a ragdoll, shaking your entire being with the force, and you clench tighter as you hurtle closer to the edge. You separate your mouth from him to drop your head into the crook of his neck so you can watch him. Watch the raw power flowing through his body, and all those perfect parts he doesn't like about himself work you like no one ever has before.

And he's watching you, too, with so much want and desire, and, ah. That's what it is. That look—it's appreciation. He looks so grateful for you that you want to drown in it, surround yourself with it.

"Good. Hold me," you whimper, muffled as you throw your arms around his shoulders to bury your face into his skin. "Hold me close when you cum." 

He must've been right there, teetering on the cusp, because suddenly his arms snake around you, crushing you to his chest as he pistons up, cumming as deep as he can reach. They tense against you erratically, matching every pulse of his cock as he empties inside you.

He moans softly and sweetly in your ear as you cry out into his, your lower half squeezing him rhythmically as your orgasm crashes over you. You let him grind up into you through the aftershocks until you're both too exhausted to stay upright.

Tipping backward, Joel brings you back down onto the bed with him and rolls you over onto your sides. You smile up at him lazily, still happily nestled up against his chest, and he bends down to press a tender kiss to your forehead.

"Hell of a workout ya just put me through," he mumbles, sounding incredibly amused and thoroughly tired out. 

"Seemed like you enjoyed yourself, though," you snort, shifting just enough that his cock slips out of you, a thick glob of cum dripping onto the sheets. "I know I sure did."

"Yeah, bet ya did," he rolls his eyes, pinching your sides teasingly. "'Specially since I was doin' all the damn work."

"But you were so good at it," you can't help but wriggle your arms out from where they're wedged between your bodies to stroke his arms again. And hopefully his ego. "And you looked so good doing it."

His cheeks tinge that pretty shade of burgundy you love, and you know you hit the mark. He ducks his head down to kiss your cheek.

"Uh-huh. Next time, s'gonna be your workout," he murmurs, sighing as you start to massage his sore muscles. They twitch tiredly under your careful attention. His eyes flutter closed as the heat and exhaustion finally catch up with him, muttering sleepily, "'n I get to enjoy the view."

You lean up to kiss his lips, chaste and gentle.

"Deal."

[peanutbutterandbananasandwichs]

what are some of ur random/casual sam hcs

Eee yuss love to think about this :)

Sam eventually ends up self-diagnosing as autistic after school flags up that they think DJ might be autistic and they end up getting him assessed and diagnosed. Sam does a ton of reading because he wants to do his best to help DJ and asks him what would help too. And one day DJ is just like "you know it tends to run in families dad?" and just kinda gestures at Sam's meticulously organised bookshelves and plate of the same food he's eaten every day for the last week and Sam is like "Oh!". He decides he doesn't really feel the need to get a formal diagnosis but it does help him feel closer to DJ and like he understands himself a little better and occasionally cut himself a little more slack for things he struggles with.

Sam's magic phase when he was a kid lasted two whole years and started with a tattered old magic tricks book he found in a second-hand shop he and Dean visited one afternoon when John was out of town. John came home and Dean was immediately like "dad its not my fault!" when Sam had a whole table set up with tricks he'd learnt ready to show John, but John couldn't even be annoyed because it was actually kinda cute. (Took about two weeks before that wore off and he was on Sam's case for practising his tricks instead of his shooting skills.)

Sam and Jess read The Lord of the Rings together, they would alternative reading a chapter each out loud each night. Jess went full ham with the voices.

Sam only started sleeping mostly on his stomach after Jess died.

His second favourite sandwich (after peanut butter and banana obviously) is a veggie BLT.

Sam hates wearing socks and takes them off literally the first opportunity he gets (sensory issues).

Soulless Sam experiences an even greater level of sensory awareness than Sam did previously, but he finds everything much more tolerable despite that because none of it bothers him.

When Sam was a kid (until about say 10 or 11), he used to collect library reading scheme cards (do they have those in the States idk?) from every library they visited in the hopes that they might come back and he’d eventually be able to complete one!

Jody looked after Sam for a few days after he showed up at her doorstep when he was looking for Dean between S9/10 - it was just after he'd injured his shoulder and she insisted he stay and heal up a bit (wrote a long version of this here).

In the weeks after A Very Supernatural Christmas, after Sam has found out about monsters he becomes stuck to Dean like glue. He grips onto his hand extra tight as they walk to school in the morning, he insists they sleep in the same bed at night, even if there are two beds there (and he always, always checks very thoroughly under the bed before they are allowed to go to sleep). John and Dean both assume of course that he’s freaked out about the monsters and worried that they are going to get him. One night when they are left in the motel room together on their own, and Sam is being particularly clingy, Dean get’s fed up and tries to storm out, telling Sam to leave him alone for 5 minutes. It’s then that Sam jumps up and blurts out “but then I can’t protect you from the monsters”.

I'll stop there or I'll never stop

[narrators-journal]

For the Lovecraft ask can we add breeding kink and squirting and maybe size kink and belly bulge

Also maybe reader is his wife and she’s turned on by him

I just kinda went wild with your prompt ngl. Lovecraft is still reader’s husband, and she’s still turned on by him! But I wrote this less as a bsd-exclusive kinktober-style fic, and leaned into the monsterfucking aspect to just GO HAM on the tentacles and monster angle. So yes, this is Lovecraft x reader, but it’s also kinda able to be read as a general monster smut. Which, was fun to write! Sorry if I went a bit light on some things, or it’s not quite to your liking on the details, this is sort of my toe back in the water after kinktober.

Thankfully it’s not as bad as last year, but ya still gotta give yourself some leniency after a challenge, y’know?

CW: teratophilia, sacrificing, tentacles, possible oviposition? U can kinda ignore that tbh, but it’s there. Breeding kink is lightly impied, size difference is also implied, squirting

It was an ancient, possibly outdated tradition, to sacrifice women to a god in exchange for a good harvest. Yet, ever since you could remember, each spring had been marked by the offering of a fertile woman to the god of the sea your town relied on. Normally, said woman was on the younger side, around eighteen to twenty for the best fertility chances, but your grandmother had always warned you that standards were likely to change. So, as you bathed and mentally prepared for whatever happened to the sacrificial brides of your god, you weren’t surprised at your position.

You weren’t a virgin, nor were you eighteen, or even twenty, in fact, you’d gotten married before you had been chosen to be this year’s sacrifice. Yet, there you were. Your hands being tied behind your back by your husband before you were walked down to the beach, nude, to await your new ‘husband’.

Like any other sacrifice to your town’s god, you had been tied to the edge of the dock. Your hands bound behind you, your foot tied firmly to one of the sturdy supports. So, all you could really do was sit on the rough wood of the water-warped platform and listen to the waves lazily lapping at the sand beneath the dark, star-speckled night sky.

However, it wasn’t more than two hours max before you first spotted an odd, slow movement in the water. Too slow for it to be some sort of person, but too big to be a fish. It’s okay, You told yourself as you watched the form approach and sink into the glittering soup before you, Brides don’t always turn up dead. It’ll probably be okay, no matter what happens.

With that, you took a deep breath to calm the knot of anxiety that formed in your chest. Yet,when you felt the cold, watery slime of a tentacle’s smooth skin against your own, you still jumped and attempted to scramble away. Yet, there was little you could do beyond scoot as far from the edge of the dock as your tether allowed. Not that your nerves did much to dissuade more green tentacles from rising out of the water to snake around your ankles and wrists, or around your waist to trap you in place. To hold you hostage while more tentacles emerged from the cool sea water to explore your nude body. It was disgusting.

Yet, at the same time, it was thrilling.

Ever since you were little, you had heard tales and rumors about all of the many things that might happen to the ‘brides’ your town offered to the sea god in exchange for the plentiful fish, including the exact situation you now sat in. But, in those past years until your own eighteenth birthday had passed, some part of you had always feared the possibility of becoming the sea god’s bride.

However, when you’d passed eighteen and gotten married, that fear had gone dormant. But, it hadn’t left completely. After all, how could a woman ever put to rest the anxiety of being one bad flu season away from being chosen to risk being torn to shreds or split in half?

Only to find, that the slow slide of tentacles, and the gentle kisses of their suction cups against your nipples or the tender skin of your inner thigh didn’t disgust or scare you as much as you had expected. Instead, they excited you.

Even when a rather meaty tentacle slipped between your legs to prod at your dampening cunt, the pressure of it against your folds sent lightning through your blood, and the stretch of it pushing into you was enough to wipe away the fears and earn a lewd noise. And while yes, you weren’t a virgin, as hardships had left sacrificial options too slim to offer an eighteen-year-old woman and ensure something like that, there was simply something far more exciting than your human husband could achieve.

Yet, that didn’t keep the tentacle from settling deep within you, creating a bit of a bulge in your belly while your muscles twitched and stretched to accommodate the growing girth of the appendage within you. Nor, did it stop the tentacle when it began to move.

In. Out. In. Out. The tentacle’s movements within you were slow. Curious, almost. The odd, slick appendage somehow able to brush against and find each of your sweet spots as it pushed deeper into you to explore every inch of your gummy walls. And, while the monster you had been sacrificed to didn’t seem interested in your pleasure, the tentacle’s slow, thorough thrusts and flexes still managed to draw lewd moans out into the warm night’s air. Oh god, why does this feel so good? You managed to think while your back arched off of the rough wood of the dock you laid on into the inquisitive caress and attention of the tentacles that still squeezed and toyed with your breasts. Feeding the fire in your veins that you tried to ignore, even as the more primal, needy part of you begged, More. More! I feel too good. I need more! In a shameful plea for that pleasure to continue to be indulged.

And, as if the god had read those deep, lust-addled thoughts, the tentacles that snaked around your breasts and toyed with your nipples squeezed your mounds and the thicker tendril that stretched your cunt so deliciously flexed against that special spot within you. Pulling another, louder cry of desire from your throat with the force of the lightning it sent hurdling through you. Yet, even as your blood screamed with need, and the chill of the water-cooled tentacles that held your wrists and legs down were the only things keeping your small body from combusting, your new husband kept going. “Hah! W-wait! Hold on!”You begged into the spring night’s air, able to feel the tell-tale tightening of your muscles with each brush of that thick tendril against your g-spot. “I-I’m gonna- ngh!- going to c-cum! I’m gonna cum!” You screamed, no longer scared of your fellow townsfolk hearing your blissful calls over the waves when your euphoria crashed down upon you with such force that your juices squirted out slightly.

Though, your pleasure didn’t end with the deviant pleasure. You merely got a brief break from the friction, as the tentacle that sat buried in you stilled to let you stare up into the colorful night sky and catch your breath. And, for a second, you thought your monster husband had somehow sensed that you had orgasmed and was going to stop or at least pause their movements. However, the tentacle only paused for a moment, before you felt the already thick girth of the tendril move more within you.

Not to continue fucking into your twitching entrance, though, but to push something into you. The...egg? Capable of being felt as it slid down the length of the tentacle to settle into your womb. Followed quickly by more and more masses being pumped into your belly to the point that your belly began to look bloated. Not that you minded, though. You simply laid on the dock, listening to the waves lap against the supports beneath you while the tentacles kept hold of your limbs until your monstrous husband was satisfied with how plump your belly had gotten. Only then, did those strong tendrils finally release you to lay on the dock beneath the stars. Exhausted, slimy, and bred.

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

You can call me squid anon 🦑. For shits and giggles can we have some of the heroes other than Nezu being Izuku's kids? Like only three of them because our boy/god has standards. I personally suggest Aizawa, Hawks, and Miruko because of how unconventional the trio would be.

Miruko is pretty easy: Her mom is an extremely intelligent African American woman who moved to Japan for work. They weren't soulmates but Izuku found her smart and loved speaking with her about complex topics then boom Rumi is born. Izuku gifts Rumi a rabbit based quirk since they are one of his sacred animals and represent perseverance, cleverness, progress, and benevolence. It was cute when Rumi was a kid but as she got older... (you know, because of how often women and bunnies get aired together in sexual ways💀) So she's sort of mad at her dad for this even though she loves her quirk and her Izuku defended his daughter fiercely when she complained about the sexual harassment and exotification she was experiencing as a teenager. He also kinda regrets the blessing he gave her

Aizawa is the oldest of the trio: Izuku and his father also weren't soulmates but there was enough attraction between them that Izuku created newborn Aizawa (Athena style) for Aizawa's father who wanted children but was asexual. Izuku gifted his son the ability to erase quirks because he believed that it was the perfect power to protect himself with. However, we all know how that went 💀 He too is mad at his dad even though he makes it a point to wear the capture scarf Izuku gave him as much as he possibly can nope he's totally furious 😏

Hawks is the youngest: This one is tricky because (if we're going by the previous asks for the Gods and Marks AU) Izuku only figures out Hawks is his kid through the screens showing the future and is completely horrified by how his precious baby bird was abused and living in filth as a child. Hawks is absolutely flabbergasted and also a little resentful until he actually meets present Izuku who swears that if he had known Hawks existed, he would've rescued him from his "parents" and raised him on his own. Hawks looks into his father's eyes and knows he's telling the truth, but he still can't let go of what could've been.

I can totally imagine them have secret sibling hangouts (minus Hawks and Tenko's father) that are exposed by the screens and Nezu being a proud older brother even though his siblings drive him crazy sometimes and in Tenko's father's case, disgusted by. After the Hawks reveal, Rumi enthusiastically ropes her youngest brother into their "Our Dad Sort of Dropped the Ball While Raising Us But We Still Love Him" club.

Meanwhile Izuku is absolutely sulking about how he's failed his kids. Nezu being kidnapped and irreversibly changed, Tenko's father abusing his children, Aizawa experiencing quirkism, Rumi facing sexual harassment, and Hawks' horrible upbringing and subsequent abuse by the HPSC. The only one he didn't mess up with was All Might, and that's his adoptive son. Izuku doesn't visit his kids much (other than Nezu) because he believed they hated him, but after this, he starts dropping by more often. UA and Japan are in chaos because of the reveal and the villains are sweating bullets. Nezu also has Izuku's full authorization to go ham on the HPSC because how dare they exploit Hawks and undermine his precious baby stoat (Nezu: Please stop calling me that).

I adore all of this.

Izuku isn't the type to have a bunch of children running around so the amount he has currently is noted by a lot of people as being odd. It makes a lot of the more future related Gods nervous and has them looking into said future which is how they end up with pieces of the future being shown since their messing with the future caused a few mortals with Quirks connected to them to have episodes where their Quirks go haywire resulting in this.

Izuku loves his children dearly and weeps that he had been so wrong with how they were treated. And he feels so much shame for never knowing of Hawks, mixed with terror that he hadn't known. It shouldn't be possible for him to miss that.

Of course he has a sinking feeling as to whom did this. He hopes not because it would mean war among the Gods, which would spill over into the moetal world.

Nezu of course happily takes the reigns in tormenting anyone who'd dared touched his youngest brother, and crackles with glee over how he now has full permission to let loose. Hawks is so confused and baffled but he's willing to go along with it. He already saw Rumi as a sister after all.

[ditty-nightsong]

🌟 + angell! and maybe nicole if you have anything for her?

ANGELL MY DEARLY BELOVED... one of like. 2.5 or 3 total F/Os that i've seriously considered Mawwiage with. (no hints on the other two. You Will Have To Guess.)

i just went ham writing about fugue so this may not be as long but my insert (elyse) is an information broker on dismyth (path to nowhere deep web) and i kinda. stick my head in a bit too deep into dismyth and i'm like Ahhh fuck paranoia yay! and through Circumstances (the chief of the MBCC. chief is a friend to all sinners including my insert. thank you queen.) angell is hired as my bodyguard and i don't feel Safe staying the night at my house so i basically just. grab my stuff and impromptu move into angell's apartment but as i live there under her protection. i start to feel a lot safer and more at ease and even my non-dismyth job as a bartender starts to feel easier. angell likes that she actually has company for once too, and not only that! but i understand the weirdness of her jobs and life in general. also, sometimes i sing (badly) under my breath when i'm doing little tasks and she thinks it's really cute. :) and we go for rides on her motorcycle. :) and she did not realize how much she likes me clinging to her before this. :) after our relationship progresses we cling to each other a lot... she's actually a really good hugger with some practice.

(i like how i said "this isn't going to be that long" and now it Is long. i answered a little bit for nicole in another ask but i will follow up on that UTC!)

anyways nicole feels BAD like really BAD and S/I is at first like. "oh no noooo it's fine! don't worry about it i'll just be more careful next time!" and then nicole kinda. word vomits out that at first her intentions were Not All Pure and that she really liked the gifts and stuff that S/I bought her. (and of course she Did grow to genuinely enjoy S/I's company. a lot. quite a lot. but at first she Was kind of Wheedling.) and then S/I's face drops and she's like. "... wow. i thought you were different." and then just wants to be alone for a bit. and nicole tries to monetarily reconcile it at first but S/I refuses because she's like. "please stop using me to try and alleviate your own guilt" which makes nicole feel WORSE. and S/I is a bit lonely without the cunning hares (especially nicole. unfortunately.) but her pride and feelings are both hurt and she just Cannot right now.

i think after a bit of space, she starts really missing the cunning hares (again. Especially Nicole.) but she wants to stand her ground on this. but nicole is like "ahhhh fuck she's still mad at me and needs Space" but then they run into each other in the rain one night (like. literally Run Into Each Other.) and nicole kinda. looks terrible because Muppet Guilt Has Been Eating Her Alive. and S/I feels bad and tries to apologize but nicole shakes her head and says that S/I has nothing to apologize for - it was completely her fault, and she understands if S/I doesn't want to be friends anymore. (sidenote: nicole is literally sitting in a rain puddle during this. To Me.) but S/I admits that she actually has missed her quite a lot. and she starts to ask if they can start over but then they almost get mugged by an ethereal and they beat its ass Together and somehow nicole ends up princess-holding S/I. and they reconcile and then they get Closer and oh my god the pining is going to fucking kill anby. and nekomata. but billy is like Holy shit it's like a romance episode! so he's fine. LMAO. i feel like anby and nekomata Conspire to try and put nicole and S/I in Situations and it keeps not working to increasing comedic effect. and that's as far as i've gotten.

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

🧚‍♀️ Anon

To be honest I’m a little unsure for a Part 1 for Sins of the Father (I really love that title though)

So I’m completely fine and curious about what you would write for it (I currently have no ideas at the moment for SotF but I might get some later, I might need to watch the newer Scream Movies)

Here are a few ideas I have though in general, I’d like to hear what you think

Mostly I can see Darling use her mother’s last name to hide being related to Kira

Does Darling move back to Morioh?

What if the shock of the murders results in a Horror Movie being put in production (Maybe it’s called ‘Morioh Massacre’ or something) and a bunch of rumors spread about it being based on a True Story about Morioh’s infamous Serial Killer

I definitely like the parallel with Kira, Darling just wants to have a normal life (But unlike her father she doesn’t have his murderous impulses, but maybe she did inherit his rage whenever she feels like she can’t get away from his legacy) only someone in Morioh is after her, calling her, cryptic messages and gruesome murders whenever she goes

Maybe this is how her Stand finally manifests (Her Stand has always been apart of her life when Kira got it, but either she’s never been strong enough to fully manifest it or she new about its existence but never could grasp it’s full potential and abilities until her life was threatened and thrown into turmoil)

Darling uses her Horror Movie trivial, sarcasm and dry humor as a coping mechanism (In reality she’s angry and tired, but she doesn’t want to be the helpless victim, especially since she knows they’re always the first to die)

Maybe Josuke knew Darling? But she was known as that quiet nerdy girl? (His mom and her mom knew each other, before her disappearance) Maybe Josuke and Darling we’re friends but grew apart when she had to move away because of the bullying?

I wasn’t very sure with this and I just wrote a few ideas (My mind kinda went ham)

Also that fanart you drew was very cute I liked it a lot

Ok so I have a few idea, still want to keep things cryptic for now.

Reader was in her last year of middle school when the truth of yoshikage Kira came out and due to her last name this led to a lot of negative attention. Thus her grandparents moved and had her last name changed to her mothers.

I'm thinking that darling knows who Josuke was as he was a year above them. Probably though word of mouth as well as seeing him after leaving class but they never knew eachother personally. Perhaps Josuke knows her through association due this grandfather being friends with her grandparents, he probably saw a couple of photos that his mother had been shown. Perhaps even a slight push to befriend her but didn't do so.

I'm thinking that After graduation Josuke may have taken a gap year to America to see his dad and such before going to university and ending up in the same course not entirely sure on the subject yet.

The horror movie idea is really interesting. Perhaps it's brought up by a work colleague. They're really excited and start going on about it and darling is saying some stuff that is out of character from what they know. Leading to them asking why they aren't interested.

"Oh I just think it's a bit exploitive" she'd say.

"But you really like chainsaw massacre and that's kinda based off of Ed Gein" they'd point out. (It was the only example I could come up rn with that wasn't an out right exploitation film)

Perhaps it's brought up the case again as well and some of former students of the middle school bring up that there was a girl there related to him. She might even be confronted by a relative of one of the victims.

Putting her really on edge and Josuke might just walk in on a situation without context and immediately rush in to help. And probably gets some clues that she's being stalked or harassed.

Her stand probably developed after a particular incident back in marioh cho before leaving, she'd had hit her breaking point and retaliated against one if the other student. Her first outburst. After she left she started to receive texts and most likely followed by subsequent injuries. Act 2 probably developed a few years later after another incident. Perhaps her stand was trying to get revenge on someone on her behalf. (Sometimes it targets particular people who threaten darling, other times it chooses random victims)

Thanks for liking the design I came up with, currently sharing my laptop with my partner so I can't use it as often. If I could I would have done some photo bashing to get a idea for act 3s Appearance.

[ask-missparker]

—This is your place?

—

Arron & Mia - Father Daughter Duo

Continue this fanfic

Summary: Sometimes your father can see right through you while you’re still alive…

Mention of -> May Parker, Skye, and her friends

Warning: Some angst and fluff

——

After the simple agreement was made by the two parties, they headed out to one of the homes in the small village. And if anyone had to be honest, The Afterlife, was actually kinda beautiful.

Greenery everywhere, people with powers young and old walking around, guardsmen at some point of entrance and other things. It was actually quite common and comforting with its architecture as well. Modern architecture with a classic design inspired by European and Chinese architectural elements.

Arron led his daughter to his quiet home in the mist of the valley.

This is your place? She wondered.

It seem like any other classic rustic style house, with wood floors, gray walls and a combination of modern furniture with a comfortable vintage interior. To be honest, she liked it. It seemed like a house you could see in a whole wooden doll house. Arron could sense she liked it, even if Mia wasn’t going to admit it.

He gestured for her to sit down and get comfortable.

As soon as Mia sat down on the black leather couch and lean back against the cushions she hummed. She then asked, “Alright..what do you want to know?”

“Hold on.” He replied softly chuckling as tossing her a water bottle, guessing she might be thirsty or something. Of course she caught it.

Mia nodded as her lips pouted slightly and looked around. She didn’t see any signs of other life in the house or anything. She thought she would see a woman’s jacket or even a bra laying around, but she saw nothing of the sort. Stupid posters on the wall, weapons laying around and an empty box of junk food? Nope. He was probably hiding them somewhere safer.

No beer bottles either? Maybe in the kitchen he has them? She wondered.

She didn’t know weather to lie here about her thoughts about—she realized it was silent for too long.

Suddenly she politely says, “This place looks nice..”

Arron smiled, “Thanks. Are you hungry? You were asleep for a while.”

“No. I’m fine.”

Lie. Arron clocked that from a mile away.

She was starving.

“I’mma get you something to eat.” He said before walking away.

“But I’m..” She says trying to protest but was caught off by his sudden tone.

He repeated firmly, “I’mma get you something to eat.”

Moments went by before Arron returned with a simple sandwich. Ham and cheese. She glanced at it for a moment in hesitation as she took the plate from him. After a few seconds, she took a bite and murmured in disbelief, realizing that he added two different slices of cheese with turkey ham.

Swiss and cheddar cheese with melted butter, layered with a nice slice of ham, between two slices of wheat bread.

“This is good.” She mumbled before taking a few more bites.

Truth. Arron clocked that too and smiled.

“Didn’t think this would be your definition of ‘get you something to eat’..” She mumbled as she ate, glancing up at him.

He cross his arms and scoffed, “What were you expecting? A bag of chips and a bottle of beer?”

“Well when you put it that way, it sounds pretty much the exact idea one would expect.”

“A beer with a bag of chips, would not do well after you been asleep and injured.”

“How did you..?”

“Don’t ask. I just know.”

She stayed silent and just ate.

Arron obverse her as he took a deep sip of water. His daughter’s face with completely May Parker, except her eyes and hairline, that’s all him. Hell, the way she looked at him in the sunlight, he clocked her skin tone to be similar to him. The way she sat reminded him of his sister.

Her smile and the way she presented herself, was her mother’s but her quiet attitude was him.

An impulsive spirit and a strong desire or sense to fire when ready, if she’s not trusted by anyone.

However. There was this glow to her that he couldn’t quite understand, this sweet little girl, had still been trying to figure out how the world worked. This flickering grin in her eyes that’s clearly been knocked over but rebuilt over time and time again.

There were other features he could not quite grasp yet.

He wondered if she was loved and appreciated by others…

It’s one this ability allowed him to see, the truth and lies within someone. And because Amelia was in a vulnerable position, it was a matter of whether he can see all of it or just none.

“Wha..?” Amelia said softly as she finished eating and looking at him.

“Nothing..just, you look so much like your mom. It’s scary how much you reflect her…and me.” He replied in a hush tone, his thick voice shining through.

“Oh. I thought people just said that as a compliment to a daughter and mother…”

“For your case, from the last time I saw your mama, yeah, you look pretty much like her.”

That actually got a smile from Mia. An actual smile, not the half-ass ones that he used to see. Her soft smile lit up her cheekbones and her eyes.

Arron couldn’t help but smile back at her. It was infectious.

“Well, I gotta ask. How—what are your abilities? Aside from the skills you already possess.” She asked leaning her elbow against her couches armrest and rest her chin in her hand.

He smiled a little knowing that was probably on her mind but nonetheless he answered her. He scoffed, “I can see if someone is lying or telling me the truth about whatever it is that happened last. It’s how I did—still do my job.”

“Oh, wow. Nothing gets past you, huh?”

“Not always, I have to be focused and present myself to do it. I can sense it coming internally.”

He wasn’t even going to tell her about the shadow part, that was only meant for him to see. But the rest was correct in what he said.

“That’s actually kinda cool.” Mia said in a deep blunt yet soft tone, her normal high pitched voice still shining through.

He gave her a half smile and chuckled, “Yeah? Here I thought it was funny joke to someone like you.”

“Well, I mean, you’re kinda like a human lie detector, if that makes sense…?”

“Yeah, no, that’s right. It just means I’m honest for the sake of being honest.”

There was a moment of silence that washed over them before Arron decided to ask, “So, what do you do?”

“What?” She asked taking a sip of the water bottle.

“Our deal was that I get to know you a bit, right? So, what do you do skill wise?”

“Oh, ummm, I’m a field agent and a bit of a technical expert at SHIELD. Scouting places, going on tours, hunting down people and recruiting the right ones for the job.”

Arron couldn’t help but grin hearing that. He wasn’t the least bothered concerned about her job, he should be ashamed or worried about her health seeing how she was injured, but he was impressed.

Look at her size. She was tiny and she managed to keep up with the big gun?! And young too! He thought.

However his attitude slipped into his lips as he said, “No way in hell, you do all of that. I don’t even think you can handle that much weight on your shoulders or skill level.”

She blinked not expecting his response to be that and shifted in her seat, “W-what is that supposed to mean? Your insulting me my line of work?”

“No, no, sweetheart, just don’t expect for you to do all of that. You got your ass handed to you on your way here.” He replied smoothly.

“I—well, in my defense, i did not expect to be blasted and I been having a rough day so far…”

“Okay, we’ll see later in the field how well you can fire a gunshot. What about power wise?”

“Power wise?”

——

Arron gave her a look, as if she was dumb. It’s not like he asked her to take a shit in a hole or something. He just asked for her abilities. Mia was brought in due to her lack of knowledge of her own other skills, not for her relation to other players.

“Look, I’m not gonna you shit if you don’t start talking.” He added leaning against the wall to look down at her frame, then sighed realizing he sounded harsh and spoke again, “Sorry. I’m not gonna push you then if you’re not willing to tell me. And that’s okay, angel.”

If Mia had to be honest, she would’ve never thought she would be in this position ever. She seen countless of time like this, where people would have absolutely no interest or sympathy for telling her story. Or, she was on the other end of it all, listening to people’s opinions and concerns about their lives.

How they were treated by others, traumatized, looking for some kind of purpose and sympathy. The list goes on. Hell, some of her friends were still going through their own struggles with their trauma and transition to be better.

She was always the one to listen, humor the other person or try and convince them to speak out about their own problems. Lending a comfortable hand and words of support for them.

She spent half of her time making sure everyone else was okay and never really cared to talk about her feelings, pushing them away or in particular trying to make herself look good. No one really asked or knew how to comfort her, it was always her doing the job for them. They don’t always notice the signs but she does.

So the fact that Arron was asking her about something like this…that was a first.

Coulson, May and maybe even a friend or two would be truly concerned for her. But this was a big first.

After a moment she spoke, “Power wise..I can sense, manipulation and control someone’s emotions. I can feel their presence and thoughts in a way.”

“How did it happen?” He asked softly, surprised she actually told him.

“After a rumbling trip to Puerto Rico islands…an accident occurred between us trying to get an item before Hydra did…but it didn’t go as planned because Skye went down there, in the caves, with a fellow agent…that’s when the destination came, a huge pile of debris and rock came crashing down..I rushed in to get Skye and um..Tripp…soon enough I was blasted back and surrounded by rock..”

“Oh jeez…oh damn! Are you kidding me right? You actually survived that long trip?”

“Yeah, I survived and everyone was questioned about it..even scanned for any kind of damage…but I kept getting headaches and nausea..a weird sensation in my chest, in my head..like I can barely breathe…”

“You were being consumed by your powers. They were slowly coming in…w-was there anything specific that must’ve triggered it?”

“Did you not just hear the whole incident?”

He chuckled light and scoffed, “No, I heard it. You sensed a lot all at once. But what exactly happened that you remembered?”

“We were grieving an agent, a friend of ours..Trip was down there with Skye, when i rushed in, all I saw was Tripp’s ashes and rock surrounding where he once stood…and back at base, everyone was fighting, sad, and distant with each other..” She explained with a slight scoff, “..umm, at a lot of anger and frustration..I almost snapped..”

“Did you? Did you snap?”

“..eventually I snapped, I accidentally fell into a trap where I screamed at the group and manipulated them to stop their anger for a second…they looked at me confused…everyone didn’t question it and went on with their grief, until I went to the a friends place to try and convince myself I was fine..”

Amelia kept explaining what she could remember and Arron just listened, no advice or cheesy comments of support. He didn’t even try to downplay how she felt, like one of her friends did. He just listened an awful amount of listen as he went to side beside her. Occasionally he nodded or said something in comfort.

Yes, she was still dealing with a lot and couldn’t control when it happened, or when people got mad. Other times she would downplay her own behavior or chalk it up to her going crazy. But she felt kinda good, being able to talk about it and the cool breeze from the window helped.

After a moment Arron said, “I think you were sent here to try and relax, Amelia. Get away from your worries and struggles, try and control yourself for a bit…maybe meet someone who gets it?”

“What do you mean..?” She asked softly.

“From the stories I heard from being here, the second you start acting different or your character becomes more…oddly enough not the version of you people like, they start to behave differently.”

“They judge you for some simple action that happened to you…all my friends met me, before this incident, and now I am just a bit different.”

He gave her shoulder a small squeeze and then rubbed small circles on her back. He wasn’t sure if he should give her a side hug yet, but Mia lean against his shoulder instantly. That cause him to wrap an arm around her gently. She buried her face into his chest feeling a sense of comfort and felt his compassion, despite it being under that tough exterior and tension.

——

The two went on to talk about other things. School, friends, life experiences and cracking a few jokes more often than not. There were moments where the topics got serious, like when he asked about her dysfunctional relationship with her friends or her line of work.

The two even joked about favoring certain types of films than others. Hey, they did need some conversation starter!

Arron often tried to give her a simple explanation when she asked him about his past missions, people he met in life, his relationship with his sister Bobbi and how he met her mother. He honestly thought he wouldn’t have to talk much about May, but he knew it was coming.

“Your mother was honestly one of a kind in her own right.” He said with a soft grin, “Creative, strong, sweet as hell and stubborn…when she knew she wanted something, she did it. We honestly fought a lot about stupid things…but I never remember how I met her.”

“How? Mom said it was a trip to a friend’s wedding when you met.” She said smiling.

“Yeah, some friend of mine had a wedding he was doing to and he thought, he could bring me as a plus one. I went to humor him and at the party, h saw your mother standing outside the balcony talking with someone. And I walked over. She smiled.”

“Yeah? Cause I know my mom got a pretty smile but still…”

“Well, she had her smile, her short hair and a hot black dress that—”

That’s when Mia made a face and shook her head, “Nope! Nah, nuh uh, don’t finish that sentence. I get it..I got the picture.”

Arron smirked snickering at her reaction, “Hey, you asked!”

“But that’s not what I meant..”

“Yeah, sure, but that’s what I meant by remembering that day.”

——

There was still uncertainty and speculation about whether this was a good thing so far. It hung in the air. But so far, it wasn’t so bad. Yeah, sure, they had some stuff they still didn’t address about their relationship, question they needed to ask themselves and things that possibly might be useful for Mia’s stay here.

That was just the surface level stuff. But honestly, it seemed like neither of them wanted to go beyond that level anyway.

Plus, Mia was itching to check on Skye as well, despite knowing she was possibly okay and trying to adjust to the circumstances of her life. The situation in general.

But before Arron or Mia could say anything else, there was a knock on the door. He held up a hand when he saw her reach for her pocket for a gun. He shook his head and stood up to answer it.

The moment it was opened, Mia got a glimpse of who it was.

In front of her stood a young man. Dirty blonde hair, a light complexion and soft yet sharp green eyes. He wore a burgundy shirt, dark brown pants and boots, but you can tell he had a weapon in his pocket. He smiled at Arron but then caught sight of Mia.

He spoke to Arron for a few moments, talking about security measures and a few new developments in the area. How there were a couple of other people who wanted to talk with him about shipping containers and supplies. Arron nodded gently.

He then noticed how Mia was catching the blonde’s gaze and how she responded with a small smile.

Arron put a hand on her shoulder before saying, “Jeremy, this is my daughter Mia.”

Jeremy smiled holding out a hand, “Jeremy Michaelis.”

Mia shook his hand smiling, “Amelia Parker. Nice to meet you.”

Arron smiled, “I have work to do. How about Jeremy show you around?”

“Great.” Mia replied softly smiling.

“Cool.” Jeremy added right after still smiling as he chuckled.

With that, Arron left leaving the two of them alone to their own devices.

——

Ahhh! That’s all folks and that’s how she met Jeremy 😉

Please let me know what you think about Mia and her dad so far?

- @gcthvile @meiramel l l @aidanxsophxoxo @blueboirick @wizzzardofoz z z @finlayholmes @ethan-lensherr @elzabeth-stark k @marvelsfavoriteuncle @sci-fi-lexcon @ask-starrk @therealdaydreamstark @luna-d-marsh @rickb-chaos @the-x-ladiesofnyc @trulysummersprivate @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre

[hissingjay]

Jay. My joyous gayus Jay. I have a hypothetical yuri gay question.

So i asked before how a traumatized Kasuar react to being reinserted to a new Geier squad after loosing their last one. Or just in general a whole new facility.

And i have been. Trying to work on a smol fic text about Geier/Kasuar admitedly. But im playing with idea of either new Geiers completely orrr having Kasuar join the Metal Geiers squad (Null , Kobalt Silver etc) and if it were the later (cause im leaning towards it cause of a funky spooky plotline )

How would a Kasuar gal react to these specific Geiers? Who gets plus points who less , or in general i just. Am thinking of them all interacting and trying to make Kass feel bit more included . Lemme know ur thoughts

(Also ofc if u dont want me to write anything i wont)

YESSSSS OKAY THAT SOUNDS SO AWESOME GOD WHAT

hmmmmrrrr okay my short gae friend im loving this already hell yeah AAAAND turns out you got me yapping you sly dog so this is long

I think they’d get along well just like. In general since Kasuars are really social and get along well with pretty much everyone? Smth smth not-great nueral template stuff makes them extremely amicable towards others. Geiers are not as loud as Kasuars for certain but since they’re really calm all the time that’s Like the perfect environment for a budding Kassie.

I went on about imprinting a bit ago so you know how that works ish

For the geiers in particular I’m thinking there mayyyy be lots of variation in the Kasuar since like. the imprinting that they do really is just they learn extremely fast and incorporate the first stuff the learn really well so personality wise Kasuars have lots of free space? This is me saying have fun with whatever Kass you use’s personality go ham with it. But assuming we go with just default Kasuar cause I think it’d be reallly fun dynamic especially null methinks nyehehe

okay COPPER COPPER MY GIRL

copper is like the peacekeeper here so I think she’d do a good job keeping Kassie in line ish

Like just making sure Kass doesn’t use up a whole tank of gas on one creature and stopping her from scuffling with others and the like. I think ehrrr this would be kinda tough since Kasuars do not do extremely well with too much authority smth smth past memories and all but I think copper would be fine. Mutual bonding over issues too since Kasuars are aware of bad stuff the nation does but are still loyal so uh that’s fun. Maybe not get along toooo well at first cause “hey Kass you gotta follow them rules” but then sloooowly start growing on her as they get to know each other fhhfh

AHHH SILVER NOW OUR PERSONAL FLIRT EH

I think her being so chill is great and then of course how blunt she is is cool too methinks. Kasuars can appreciate transparency I would say

only thing that would catch her off guard maybe is the flirting. Kasuars are . definitely not used to being flirted with (or loved/appreciated in any way at all really) so it would be kinda shocking as she processes not only is someone complementing them but it’s flirty? And that’s enough without the fact that silver is like. So gottdang hot with hair down and lounging with her scars for the world to see oh my god. The slight masochism would definitely rub off a fair bit if silver lets it out? Like going to aggressive too long and that can get outta hand real fast if unchecked. I can see her and kassie ogling the eules and aras and starlings and pretty much everybody watching replikas do their thing around the facility and stuff fhffhh I think that'd be fun.

ALLOYYYY MY GIRL ALLOY

Softiiiiiie she is. I can see her bringing out the softier side in kassie? I know like kasuars are violent gremlins who defy death just so they can kill more before they do die but deep down they're sweetie pies so thats something she and alloy would have in common anyhow. ALSO her hair! she wears it a tad lower if i remember correctly? maybe not as low as kassie wears hers but its pretty similar I can see the softies doing hair together and helping aras and the others move boxes and the like. Just as lil things they do together. Alloy doesnt speak up much as shes so reserved and everything and Kasuars hate pushing boundaries so it’d take a loooooooong while for alloy to open up to her past a couple life ‘n’ death situations. But other than that all good!

AAAAND KOBALT

okay I think ultimately they’d have the roughest relationship. Like all in all it could work quite well but alas Kobalts tendency to kind of lash out? Like yanking Aras from the vents and barking out but only with Kassie, especially when she’s new. I mentioned too many times the not doing well smth smth past memories and all and being growled at wouldn’t help. Of Kobalt were already established as a safe friend or ally it’d “oh okay it’d be something she does oh well” but with Kassie especially with Kasuars being so extremely paranoid it’d be. Not fun. It could work really nice since Kass could do well with someone as aggressive as Kobalt but under just as possible circumstances Kass would be extremely nervous or even scared around her. So either which way but definitely starting out with some nervousness

AAAAND lastly NULL. If you are wondering if I left null for last on purpose the answer is yes! I think she’d be the most interesting.

Sooo generally I think they’d get along well? Nulls pretty cool and calm methinks in the form of a certain apathy and that’s okay! She’s also much more experienced I can see her teaching kass the ropes and ruffling her hair and calling her kid fhhhfhhf stuff like that. Maaaaybe kass’d take after null and wear a mask more? Like Kasuars just wear masks for comfort reasons it makes them feel like they’re not being perceived and therefore safer.

The thing that really strikes me would be Falke. Kasuars are fine with Falkes and how they act and at consciously all good with them! Falkes are cool tall and speary and overall seem to be great leaders. Only their voice is. Extremely and intensely terrifying. (I got into this a whiiile ago but all that last trauma I keep talking about is abuse from the gestalts mother. Beatings and horrid things. Falke sounds too similar to said mother. Which is why they don’t do well with yelling ie Kobalt and especially not from Falkes)

so the voice of Falke units are really agitating to Kasuars. And therefore so are Falkes and their touch. Kasuars can get scared but it’s Falke voices that actually genuinely instill authentic fear in them. So null being chummy with Falke would be rough. I mean Kassie could just avoid her but that’d be hard especially if null just likes to talk to Falke like in hallways and stuff in a way that Kassie can hear. It does not help that all the geiers can spar with her and not just null. Worse still if Kassie is expected to spar with Falke too. But that’s the interesting part kassie just attempting to navigate Falke who she is authentically terrified of and I think she’d feel terrible about it since it’s irrational, especially if Falke makes some sort of effort to be kind. She coouuuuld grow out of it possibly but starting out would be tough.

Nulls proximity with Falke would kinda force Kass to deal with her and her fears. Fun!

oh and something else bout null is I think she’d be the first to meet Kass. More likely than not if Kass is introduced to the geiers officially Itll be null first cause if Nulls the one saying “hey I found this gremlin in the woods æon wants us to take care of her.” Then the others would listen more than if someone else said it

uhhh last thing is have fun with Kass! I do the imprinting thing and basically there’s SO much wiggle room personality-wise. They learn and act like Those around em so there’s only a few core bits that stick.

[hamofjustice]

Nemona the Unrivaled

Chapter 3 - A Fresh Start

Info / Chapter Select: here

(This is the last chapter I had lying around before I started working on Ham's League Club Expansion Pack for a while)

“Sigh... alright. How ‘bout we start over. Hi Nemona, my neighbor I’ve never had beef with in my life. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Arven.”

Nemona played along as she rose shakily from the ground to meet his pained smile. “Heh. Hi Arven, nice to meet you too.” She wasn’t really sure if it was normal to be letting him reset their relationship like this, but at this point holding the grudge didn’t feel worth missing out on a connection. She just needed one too badly... and it felt like she’d already made progress on humanizing herself to him, even if it wasn’t in a way she was proud of. It felt like she was just drifting on instinct with no plan now. Hopefully everything didn’t fall apart again...

Once he’d helped her stand, a few awkward moments passed where they were both unsure what to say, or where to look, or what to do with their hands once they’d quickly let go of each other.

Arven eventually decided to just turn to face Miraidon again, with one hand on his hip and the other rubbing his forehead. “So, uh... right then, let’s get to business. What’s that you said about finding this brute crash landed on the beach?”

“Oh, right. Yeah, it just fell right out of the sky like it ran out of fuel or something! I went down to feed it some Berries and fend off a bunch of Houndour that were checking it out, then when it felt better it wanted to come up here to the lighthouse, so we went through that tunnel back there...”

Arven crossed his arms. “Huh. Not sure why it’s here, but I guess it’s probably grateful to you.”

“Agias!” Miraidon affirmed.

“Hmph.”

Nemona couldn’t help but notice the way Arven seemed to resent this Pokemon for some reason, even after calming down. “So... if I can ask now... what’s your connection to Miraidon, Arven? Why’s it pawing at your door?”

Arven took a deep breath and gazed up at the horizon, toward the Great Crater. “You’re not going to babble about this to, uh... Chairwoman Geeta or whoever, right?”

“I meannn... you’re right, we do talk, but I can keep a secret.”

“You sure? President’s honor?”

“Promise.”

“... It used to live here with me. It’s something Dad found in Area Zero, I guess? He just... brought it home one day, didn’t tell me much. Guess it was confidential or what have you. But when it snuck out and people found out about it, he took it with him back into the crater before it caused more of a fuss.” he explained, nodding in the forbidden zone’s direction. “I haven’t seen either of ‘em again until just now, so seeing it with you was a bit much to take in. I used to at least get calls or emails from my old man, trying to convince me how much he still cared and he was totally gonna make it all worth it someday, but... those stopped eventually, too.”

He then turned back to Miraidon. “You really ruined my childhood, y’know.”

“Gia...” it responded, cowering again and looking away.

“Whoof... Well, I don’t know if that’s fair to Miraidon. I mean, Professor Turo could come back for you if he really wanted-”

“Yeah, he sure could’ve!” Arven spat, then stepped back sheepishly when Tauros snorted at him.

Nemona winced. “Sorry. Uh... w-what about your mom? Is she cool at least?”

“... Never really knew her. Took off after I was born for whatever reason. Mother of the year, eh?”

Nemona’s eyes turned to saucers.

”Apparently she used to work with Dad, but they fought so much that she just completely up and left one day. Don’t think they even had the chance to get married. Maybe I reminded her of him so much that she didn’t... wanna look at me. Kinda like how I don’t wanna look at this brute. Who knows. Who cares! She can shove it too. Probably just wanted a little lab assistant instead of a son. So yeah, I may as well be an orphan at this rate.”

“Oh my gosh, Arven... I had no idea...”

“Yeah. So that’s what me being ‘the big shot son of the famous, brilliant Professor Turo’ has gotten me in life. And then... uh...”

Arven seemed to be looking at something over Nemona’s shoulder and stopped talking. Nemona turned to look as well.

Adam was walking down the road as far away from them as possible, but when he noticed them looking at him -- or maybe when he heard Arven say who he was in such an over-the-top snarky tone -- he glared straight at them as he passed by. Nemona felt cold and sick again, but Adam never said anything.

Step by step, the anticipation was tearing Nemona up. But nothing happened. Adam just kept on going and eventually looked away and disappeared down the hill ahead.

Arven slumped forward once the new trainer was out of sight. “...Yeesh, what was that all about? S’like that little guy was possessed by the lingering spirit of my beef with you or something.”

Nemona snorted and smiled, to her own surprise. “Heh. Um... that was Adam, he just moved in next door. I uh, well... We, um... He doesn’t like me, no.”

“What’d you do? Uh I mean, what happened?”

Nemona narrowed her eyes at the implication it was her fault, but she resisted snapping back. “Well, uh... basically I told him I was a Champion who wanted to... start my team and my Gym Challenge over, to be a rival to somebody new, and picked out a new little starter Pokemon along with him. Y’know, I wanted to... take him under my wing, share some of my stuff and my knowledge, watch him grow! Maybe... maybe make a... a friend out of it...” she recounted, tapping her fingertips together.

Arven raised an eyebrow when Nemona got shaky at that last part.

“... But he seemed to think I was just doing it to, I don’t know, stroke my ego, or boss him around, or whatever the heck else people think I do. He...” Nemona had to hug herself while she thought about it. “...He kinda started ranting about it at me, until Director Clavell chewed him out for it. It was like Adam thought he already knew who I was and had enough of me in, like... minutes. It just... ouch, y’know? And, to be honest. I don’t think the Director sticking up for me did anything to help the kid thinking I was some kind of ‘teacher’s pet,’ either...”

“...Oh.” Arven guiltily rubbed the back of his neck. “...How many times did you battle him?“

“I didn’t even ask for one yet!” Nemona responded with an angry pout.

“Huh. So that’s the state you were in when I came along and did the same thing to you, huh...”

She softened. “Yeah. ...Yeah. Y-you didn’t know, it’s okay!”

“Is it, though?”

“We’re talking now, I think it turned out okay. But... but...”

Nemona sighed. She felt an instinctive anxiety that she was telling Arven way too much and she should stop, but it seemed far too late to stop now. He’d already seen her fall apart, he should know why too. Especially when he’d revealed so much to her today.

“... I dunno, it all just left me wondering... If... if a total stranger who just moved here can hate me that much, what hope do I have at... at ever...”

Nope, couldn’t keep it together long enough to finish her sentence. She covered her face as her jaw quivered. The audible sniffle probably told Arven what he needed to know.

“So uh... you don’t have life handed to you on a platter like people might assume either, eh?”

Nemona rapidly shook her head no without uncovering it. “N-no. My family’s basically never home either. Today’s the first time I’ve seen them in ages. They kinda... leave me to fend for myself out here. Not that I don’t like the freedom sometimes, but... I dunno.”

“Fend for yourself, huh...” he repeated quietly, looking down at the ground.

Nemona removed her braced arm from her face and rested it in her other palm. “Well, I mean, not literally -- housekeepers come by here and there -- but they know I don’t really like being taken care of like that.”

“Hmph. Well, still no substitute for family, I s’pose.”

“And then when I get out of there and back to school where I belong, it feels like a lotta kids are jealous of me, and everyone I battle or even talk to about Pokemon just gets mad. I wanna have fun with ‘em, maybe even help ‘em get stronger, but they’re all sour grapes about it. Like I’m making fun of them by just... being here, and they’ve gotta fight back.”

Arven scratched the back of his neck some more and looked away. Nemona also averted her gaze, toward her Tauros.

“... Some days, it feels like all I’ve got is my Pokemon.” she continued as she pet the loyal bull. “Everybody thinks ‘cause I’m a Champion and have a rich family and decent grades and stuff, I’m, just... born different. Like I can do things they never could. Like I’m gifted and special, or cheating, when...”

Nemona showed Arven the red glove on her right hand. He took a step back defensively, but then took a closer look at it as she flexed her fingers.

“...When I have to wear this brace just to be able to throw a Poke Ball even halfway right or get through a day of homework without pain, and I can barely make it up the stairs to school without help, and... everyone looks at me like I’m an alien or a science experiment, or like Pokemon battles are an annoying niche interest if I’m the one talking about them...”

Nemona crossed her arms and looked out at the ocean. When she glanced back at Arven, there was a strange mix of emotions on his face. Mostly like he was sad and unsure what to do, like Clavell was, but there was something else going on there too that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“Well, no... that's not fair, the new teachers are fine, and little kids like me... and-- S-sorry, sorry, I’m totally unloading on you, I’m sorry, you’ve got it worse. I’m okay, really...” she quickly apologized, rattling her head and turning away again.

“No you’re not.” Arven said firmly.

“Yes I am sorry, you--” Nemona started, falling into her old habits around Arven.

He raised his hands. “Nonono, shush, I mean, you’re not okay.”

“Don’t shush-- Y-yeah, and what about it, huh?”

“And that’s rough, but... pretending you don’t need help isn’t... i-isn’t the way to make it better, is it?”

“Oh.” she responded, deflating. “...Yeah, I guess it really hasn’t been. I just... don’t wanna look needy.”

An awkward pause passed. Both of the teens’ eyes searched the road for nothing in particular as Nemona thought about what Arven said.

“... W-well, I’m as shocked as you are that I ended up being the person you told all this to. And spice adversa, I guess.” he acknowledged as he combed a hand through his fluffy hair.

“... Vice versa?” She quietly corrected.

“Ghk-- Shush, you... nerd.”

Nemona snorted and smiled a bit. “Just making sure you have it right next time.”

“Sure. Anyway... it sounds like you could really use someone in your corner. I could too, I suppose. Maybe we have enough in common to make something work.”

“You... wanna be friends?” Nemona guessed as her face began to light up back to the brightness it belonged at, like the sun rising over the horizon.

“... Yeah. I’ll give it another shot.” Once again, Arven offered her his hand, this time to shake on it, though he was looking away like it was a little embarrassing for him.

Nemona shook his hand eagerly. Somehow, falling apart in front of someone she thought hated her just led to him putting her back together instead of kicking the pieces around. Maybe this morning wouldn’t be so bad. Best not to dwell on how long ago they could’ve been friends if they’d just been a little more open, though...

“Yeah! Sounds good to me, amigo! We should get to school soon, though. Uh... what’re we gonna do with Miraidon?”

“Woorgh?”

“Ugh, right, where are we going to keep that brute now? We can’t put it in a Ball because it’s already registered to my dad, and I’d rather not leave it unsupervised...”

“Oh wait, hold on! I found a Poke Ball in the sand next to this fella.” Nemona remembered, and went to dig through her satchel for it. Being in a different pocket than the others made it stand out. “You never know, this could be it.”

“Agias!”

“Well, try it and see, I suppose...”

Nemona attempted to recall Miraidon into the Poke Ball, and sure enough, it succeeded. Whatever this thing was, it was in her hand now... even if it was apparently not in any shape to be used yet.

“Well I’ll be a Mankey’s uncle, that solves that problem! Normally I’d tell you not to go parading it around Paldea, but actually, now that I think about it... I’m honestly all for doing anything that would make my old man steamed, so go ahead. I have to admit Miraidon was pretty clever bringing its own Ball along like that, though. Hmmm... unless Dad sent it back here on purpose for some reason? If it’s supposed to be his messenger, I don’t know what the message is, or how an email wouldn’t have been easier. I don’t suppose there were any sticky notes under its, uh, saddle or anything, were there?”

“Don’t think so. Um... you think something bad happened to the professor?”

“... It’s possible. Last time I went-- Uh, last time I heard it was a really dangerous place. Really earned that restricted access.”

“Dangerous? Like, full of super-strong Pokemon? I could probably handle those!”

Arven rolled his eyes. “... Well, yeah, but also the thousand foot drops, and I doubt all the radiation from those crystal things has been healthy for Dad’s brain in the long term... Anyway, right, school. I was just gonna walk, maybe train up this Skwovet I caught earlier, but now I’m pretty behind schedule. Err, uhh, not that this little chat wasn’t worth it, ‘course.”

“You wanna ride on my Cyclizar?” Nemona offered eagerly. “I think it’s strong enough for two. Can't go skipping class if I bring you there myself!”

Arven pinched his brow like this was the hardest decision of his life. “...Fine.”

“Heh heh! Alright! Get on and let’s vamos!”

And with that, the ornery outdoorsman clung tightly to Nemona’s back as they zipped through the rest of Poco Path, the nearby village of Los Platos, and the hills beyond on her galloping Cyclizar. The entrance gates to Mesagoza were soon just a few minutes away despite the interruptions.

Nemona hadn’t even considered that Arven would have to do such an overly familiar thing when she brought up the idea to hitch a ride, but he eventually gave up his pride after falling off for trying to be hands-off. She had to admit -- at least to herself -- that a hug from a peer felt pretty nice even if it was for purely practical reasons.

“Soooo, that Skwovet you mentioned! Are you starting over with a new Pokemon too, then? Or did you just finally decide to start training something besides that Mabosstiff?” she asked loudly enough to be heard while they were moving.

“Mmm. Uh. You remember him, huh?”

“Of course! You two seemed as inseparable as it gets -- a real inspiration for how close a Trainer and Pokemon can be!”

Arven took a deep breath for some reason. “...Thanks. Yeah, I guess I am... s-starting over. Sorta. I’ll put Mabosstiff back on my team when everyone else, uh, catches up to him, ‘course...”

“Hey, alright! Maybe we can get some battles in with your Skwovet and my Sprigatito then! You ‘n’ me could even do that idea I had with...” No, no need to say that kid’s name anymore. Forget him. “...Uh, that idea to start new teams and do the Gyms over and stuff!” Calm down, don’t ask for too much. “......If you want. No pressure.”

“Yeah, maybe I could use the help.”

[suprnovascripts]

Step One, Find a Boat - 11/06/2287

Okay... Maybe I will end up going back.

Paladin Danse was grateful for the work we did, and considering we were able to locate and confirm the safety of former Paladin Brandis, he said he would offer me one more job off of the Brotherhood books. I was going to politely refuse until he told me the pay.

He had me speak with Scribe Haylen and she input some coordinates in my pipboy.

"I'm sorry, Scribe?" I said, trying to check the accuracy of the location. "I don't think its working..?"

She craned her neck around. "No, its working, its just..." She turned a knob and the digital map zoomed out to show the pin she'd placed.

"Where is that?"

She looked over at a stack of files on her desk and traced her finger down the lines. "Its an island called... Far Harbor."

My mouth dropped open as I searched for words to respond. "An island? I don't assume the Brotherhood has a boat I can borrow?"

She smiled apologetically. "I'm afraid not. There's a reason Danse won't send one of us out to get it, but this capacitor is apparently remarkably rare. We haven't found another like it, so its really important that we are able to retrieve it as soon as possible."

"Shame they let it get stolen then," I muttered, still trying to figure how I'd manage to sail hours to an island I didn't know anything about.

"True. But luckily, we have you," she offered the kind words almost as encouragement, and I couldn't deny it. She's a kind, soft-hearted person. Reminds me a lot of myself when I was her age - looking to be a part of something and make a difference.

"So," she said, handing me a Nuka Cola. "First step, find a boat! Second step, sail to Far Harbor. Third, find my capacitor. And lastly, make it back in one piece. Easy!"

But nothing is ever really that easy. Not around here. Not for us.

Step One - Complete. We found a boat. In the northeast reaches of the Commonwealth, we met an old friend of Nick's. Guys got friends everywhere. But this guy, him and his wife - their daughter went missing. Between the pull on my heart strings and their working sea vessel, we offered to try to find out what happened to their daughter.

Nick and I did some digging around as Mrs. Nakano made a dinner for the trip. Turns out, their daughter met some folks using her HAM radio. She's not missing - she ran away. The people she met are Synths living on Far Harbor; I'm not quite sure if there is malicious or even preposterous intentions involved, but the girl is convinced that she's a Synth and has replaced the real Kasumi. I... Genuinely cannot know if that is true or not, but I think regardless, we can help everyone in this family find some peace. One way or another.

So we are sailing out to Far Harbor now, and the auto navigation will get us there through the night. We'll be there before the sun rises. The water is calm tonight, thankfully.

Not long ago, Nick came in the cabin and asked to talk. His tone sounded apologetic for bothering me, but honestly I could really use the conversation tonight.

"Hey, do you have second?"

"Of course, is something wrong?" I set aside the mudcrab chowder Mrs. Nakano had made. I was beginning to lose taste for it, anyway...

"No, no, well, I sort of had the same question." My brow furrowed and I shook my head.

"I mean, there's a lot wrong, but I'm okay. Why do you ask?"

"Well, yeah, that's kinda what I meant," he said, taking a seat across me. I was sat cross legged on the molding mattress of the cabin floor. "You mind?" he asked, offering out a pack of cigarettes.

I chuckled softly. "No, thanks, but go ahead."

He noticed my laugh and smiled, pulling a cigarette and putting it to his lips. He smiled, but it was strange how much contradicting expression I was able to pull from his bright yellow, light bulb pupils. He took a long drag.

"Its just," he said, exhaling, as smoke pour from his mouth and the crevices around his jaw plates. "With everything that's happened with you, your family... It's a whole hell of a lot to process. I wanted to make sure you're holding up alright."

I can't lie, I felt a little put on the spot and I guess I've never been the best with talking about my feelings. But in that moment, I realized I hadn't really stopped to think about my feelings very much lately. Some parts of me feel like they're inaccessible, maybe, locked up somewhere behind a firewall. As I wondered what to say to my bioengineered partner, I couldn't help but question which of us were more human in that moment.

"Yeah," I finally responded, mustering a half-hearted smile. "I'm alright."

"I won't push on you, Eleanor. But if you ever find yourself feeling, I don't know... Alone? Just, remember that you aren't."

"Thanks, Nick. There's a lot worth fighting for out here, despite it all. Even if I weren't okay, I'm here now, and I'm going to deal with that the best I can, when I can. I believe we can change things, I think, even when I'm feeling defeated."

He flicked the ash from the tip of his cigarette, making sure to gently snuff any cherries. "That's a great attitude to have. Not the way I felt. It took me a long damn time to get a feel for this place." He pulled another cigarette out - in anticipation, as he still had not finished his first. "Thank goodness I found Diamond City. It's got its flaws, sure, but it beats the hell out of anywhere else in the Commonwealth."

"Its pretty scary out here sometimes," I agreed. "I think we might really have a shot with Preston and his Minutemen."

"You might be right. I've seen the Minutemen at full glory. They really are a sight. That was some time ago. Things change quickly. Hope and fear come in waves."

"People don't seem scared of you," I said.

"Not for lack of trying. It's been a long journey to gain some people's trust, and there's some folks that'll never come around. I don't blame them. Like you said, just doing what I can, when I can. But even when I first took up in Diamond City, people were terrified of the Institute. Maybe even more then than now."

"But you said you don't remember anything about them? Why hold it against you?"

"You don't know what these people have had to fear. If you ever hear anybody talk about the Broken Mask, and this was a while before I ever got to town, apparently, some gentleman-type shows up in Diamond City, heads down to Power Noodles, you know, with Takahashi?" I nod. "Anyway, guess he didn't like the food because he pulled his pistol and opened fire on the folks enjoying theirs."

"Jeez," I peeped.

"Then when security finally put enough holes in him to drop him, they say he was full of servos and sprockets." My face grimaced, then I caught myself. "Don't worry, no offense taken. But under that guy's human skin, he did look like yours truly. People seem to think he malfunctioned and just went berserk." Finally, he leaned down and smashed the cigarette butt unlit before lighting his second. "I think that was the first time people really realized that Synths didn't look like me anymore, and they started looking a whole lot more like them."

"People go nuts and kill each other all the time, so what's the big deal if one of them is a Synth?"

"You're thinking about it harder than most people do, I'll give you that, but that was only the beginning. The real fear didn't start until after the CPG Massacre."

"Wow, that actually sounds even more fucked up than the noodle guy."

"Yeah, it is. I said a minute ago that hope comes in waves around the Commonwealth. Some years ago, a group of settlements tried getting together to form a coalition." The smoke of his cigarette danced with his arms that waved, imitating all the settlements coming together in the center. "Every settlement with even a hint of clout sent representatives to try and hash out an agreement." He took a long drag of his cigarette. "Only the Institute sent a representative of their own, a Synth. The man killed every rep at the talks."

"If he killed everyone, how did they know it was the Institute?"

"Allegedly, the Institute was part of the original coalition. Recordings of the last meeting heard men calling the name of the Institute rep before being shot and killed. I'm not really sure why they pulled out when they did or why they decided they needed to take out what they left behind. I'm not sure why they do anything they do. Maybe just because they can."

"So all that, and Diamond City still lets you in the gates?"

"Well it helped that when I turned up at the gates, I had the Mayor's fifteen year old daughter."

"The Mayor has a daughter?" I said with shock.

"Ha! Not to my knowledge. This was a while ago. Mayor then was a man by the name of Henry Roberts. The young miss Roberts decided she'd run off with some caravan hand she'd known for an evening, if you catch my drift. Well, turns out the guy was part of a gang of kidnappers. I didn't even know who I was rescuing, just stumbled on a crying girl and four toughs. I did what I had to do and took the girl home. The Mayor dubbed me a hero and offered me a place in town. Lots of folks protested, said I was a spy, but he wouldn't have it. Taking up in the city was tricky at first, but I never tried to hide what I was and people seemed to warm to that."

"Holy shit, Nick, did you take down those guys by yourself, just like that?"

He laughed, genuinely this time. "No actually. Didn't have to. Back then synths were even more of an unknown quantity than they are today. I told them I was rigged to explode and started going beep, beep, beep. Hardest part of that rescue was keeping from laughing as they climbed over each other to get away."

"Must've been hard for you to stay in the city nonetheless," I said softly. "Why did you?"

"Diamond City really is the safest place. Even for me. And trust me, there were times I seriously considered it. I started off doing the jobs no one else wanted. I got more banged up being Diamond City's handyman than I ever did living out in the ruins. But I guess folks never forgot I rescued the Mayor's daughter, so they started coming to me when people went missing." From out of the cabin window, I noticed the lights of the Commonwealth dim in the dark distance of the horizon. Nick went on. "Wife runs off with a new paramour and takes the rent money with her? Talk to the Synth. An upset father decides moving him and the kids to Goodneighbor in the dead of night's not the worst damn idea since the bomb? Go get Nick. After a while, the jobs got so backed up, they didn't even ask me to do the handyman stuff anymore. I mean, hell, I was so happy to do it, it was months before I started charging anyone. I never stopped being Nick the Synth, but it was Nick the detective folks started to come to see. It was about then that things... Things finally started feeling normal." He put his last cigarette out. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that it took me a long time to realize that home is where you make it. With some time and effort, this place can be home for you, too. You keep helping people like you are, and every heart in the Commonwealth will be a home for you. Anyway," he finished and stood. "I'm going to sit outside for the night. I uh... Don't really have to sleep. So I'll keep a look out for ya. Try to rest as much as you can before we get there."

He bent down and picked his two cigarette butts off the ground and stored them in his pocket before leaving the cabin and gently closing the door behind him.

[peanutbutterandbananasandwichs]

have you ever given samjess headcanons before? 🥺👉👈

hiiiii I love making myself sad about Sam and Jess so here we go:

Sam doesn't like to make a big deal out of his birthday and Jess never pushes him to. On Jess' birthday, she never receives one big gift from Sam, its always a gift bag filled with tiny, carefully wrapped presents that Sam bought throughout the year, little things that they passed in a shop window and Jess smiled at, or things that just made him think of her.

If Sam and Jess had got married Sam would have taken her last name. It would have felt like a way to truly leave hunting behind.

Mentioned this in another headcanon ask but Sam and Jess read The Lord of the Rings together, they would alternate reading a chapter each out loud. Jess went full ham with the voices. The other part to that not in that ask is that Jess had a really lovely illustrated complete copy of LoTR that got destroyed in the fire, except a tiny fragment of an illustration of Gadreel, which Sam takes and keeps in his wallet.

This is kinda a bonus Sam/Brady headcanon but it involves Jess so it goes here. Knowing that Brady's body was used to kill Jess and that (knowing demons) he was probably awake when the demon did it haunts Sam. Sometimes he wakes up sobbing in the middle of the night just thinking about how frightened both of them must have been.

Sam romantically loves other people after Jess, he loved Amelia, he loved blurry spouse. But he never stops loving her.

They had talked about having kids, but neither of them were sure they wanted them. They weren't in any rush to decide. Jess does joke that if they did have kids they would be the tallest kids in the world.

They did however want at least two dogs.

Jess was always trying to persuade Sam to let her paint a portrait of him, but he felt too awkward about it. He regrets not saying yes.

Jess was a terrible cook, but a great baker.

This

[archandshri]

The vision for an illustration breakdown from Shri - 27/04/2024

Hey Archie and everyone!

It's lovely to hear you taking control over your health and not letting anyone/society's expectations of a working/hustle culture control your life - leading to burnout. It really does feel like directly fighting against the capitalistic view when we value fun and rest above work and their view of 'success'

I also couldn't agree more with you - fairs are such a magical place, I've definitely got the best compliments and feedback from them, it always reminded me of the importance art has on people sometimes; always leaving me a bit dazed.

As promised my slightly late blog post is here. (It didn't allow me to edit my original post so)

I mentioned I just did a really big hand-in yesterday with Third Bear Press, so I don't want to go to ham on this post.

I did think about talking about my recent hand in but it's still too soon (I've been staring at those pages for two weeks straight and many weeks before that)

But if you want to have a cheeky look at it go check out the Kickstarter with Third Bear Press!

link: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/thirdbearpress/boxes-2

Anyway actually getting into the blog, I wanted to talk about something I've been pondering recently.

Archie and I were talking a while ago about how they're a bit frustrated with the difference between their vision for an illustration and their skill set - when your skill set doesn't match your creative vision.

And I indeed, I had some thoughts about it.

(also this is not supposed to be an @ at you Archie, I just went on a really long thought tangent).

My first thought was "I used to feel that all the time" Then I was like "Wow I haven't felt that for a long time" Then I thought "Wow that kinda sounds a bit fullhead?!"

But then I was like "Hold up, back up. I don't think it has to do completely with the skillset, it also has to do with the visions/expectations itself?" because I can't remember the last time I had that experience of having that illustration idea the same way I did a few years ago.

They're different, so it got me thinking why?

Breaking down my thoughts

Also, slight disclaimer: I did no research whatsoever for this so it's literally just my thoughts. Anyways, enjoy!

The vision/idea of an illustration

I don't have the same vision for an illustration anymore as I used to. Before I used to start illustrations/projects with a distinct image in mind, and then draw from there.

Nowadays I think of the idea/image and then clarify it with the message/thing I'm trying to convey through the image. Having this clarification on what you are trying to say is so helpful when hitting issues because you can always refuse back to that as a touchstone.

Without it shit hits the fan then it's harder to take that step back and reevaluate the image.

The minds-eye and the vision/idea

So this section of pondering reminded me a lot of the book I read What We See When We Read by Peter Mendelsund (very good book with a lot of nice pictures). This book discusses what we see when we read (hence the title), one of the main points of the book is what our brain actually images/pictures when reading text.

Here is an extract because it explains it better:

These readers contend that the success of a work of fiction hinges on the putative authenticity of the characters. Some readers go further and suggest that the only way they can enjoy a novel is if the main characters are easily visible: "Can you picture, in your mind, what Anna Karenina looks like?" I ask. "Yes," they say, "as if she were standing here in front of me." "What does her nose look like?" "I hadn't thought it out; but now that I think of it, she would be the kind of person who would have a nose like .. "But wait-how did you picture her before I asked? Noseless?" "Well..." "Does she have a heavy brow? Bangs? Where does she hold her weight? Does she slouch? Does she have laugh lines?" (Only a very tedious writer would tell you this much About a character)

pg 24 of What We See When We Read by Peter Mendelsund

This strangeness of the brain of feeling/believing we can see a character in your mind's eye in full clarity - but at the same time, not actually seeing any details?

This is what I think also happens when we have an illustration vision/idea for a piece of artwork, being able to 'see it' but at the same time not.

This then can cause a lot of issues in the fulfilment of this vision for an illustration, because how can you ever go to the standard of your idea if you don't even know what it is exactly your idea is?

The skillset

This I wanted to touch on because although there is more to it then a skillset, skillset does have a play in this - but maybe not in the way you expect it. Although yes if your skillset is better it's easier to meet these expectations for an illustration, I also believe it has a lot do to with processes and how to handle issues in illustration pieces.

So before university, my process for illustration was very simple.

idea for illustration

Sketch out illustration

Line the sketch

Colour the illustration

Finished

And if at any point in this process, the illustration won't working or I run into an issue - I kinda just gave up on it?

My process now:

Idea on illustration (along with what I'm trying to convey through it)

Research (sometimes, depending on the project)

Thumbnails

Initial sketch

Fleshed out sketch

Line

Colour

Texture

Finished

And at any point I run into an issue I solve it, for example, if the hand passion is wrong and just resketch it until I find one that's good.

Obviously, these a big elements of being skilled enough to be able to identify how something is wrong and how to fix it - so there is a sense of drawing mileage by being able to identify those things.

Anyways those our my thought on it - let me know if you guys have any thoughts/ideas on it too!

Thanks for reading my rambling thoughts

Hope everyone has a lovely dinner (I had a really nice roasted cauliflower with other picky bits)

All the good vibes

Shri

[uninformedartist]

I kinda get what story Viv was trying to tell in S1E8. Loona meeting Tex' girlfriend and she is wayyyy better than her in pretty much every category imaginable. She realizing she never had a chance to begin with. This is a relatable cute story idea on its own. But his girlfriend being a literal ruler of hell is just too much imo. It doesn't make sense from a character perspective and a worldbuilding perspective. It's just too much for a character. Bee rules one ring in hell, an representation of one of the deadly sins since the ancient times but she is also this normal girl who dates Tex and is a total party girl/pop star. It feels like 2 characters/ concepts in one. It's a mess and lacks a clear direction. It also doesn't look like an animal trainer (like Viv says she is supposed to) she looks like an extreme oc splarkle dog who is a hell to animate. Which is fine for a love rival imo. But this sparkle oc being literal royalty is a huge letdown.

I think the only way Bee's current design would work is if she weren't a princess of hell herself but the rebelious daughter of the queen of gluttony, who is a bee and did have an affair with a hellhound or whatever. It would explain why she is half hellhound half bee. It would explain why she can date Vortex without people caring too much since she has the benefits of the upper class but not the responsibilities. But that's just an idea i had

Completely agree anon, and you are not the 1st person to feel this way. I have seen many re designs of her that interpreted Bee being the daughter of Cerberus and Beelzebub. It makes sense since in Dante's infreno Cerberus exists and lives in the gluttony ring so it would be possible for Cerberus and Beelzebub to get together and have Bee, sparkle dog/bee hybrid solved. There is so many interpretations and texts on biblical lore Viv really could've went ham and selected whatever suited her world best.

Also the thing that is really glaring with Tex and Bee's relationship relationship is the power dynamic. Bee in Viv's version is the OG Beelzebub, not an offspring of Beelzebub the OG. It like you said causes it to not make sense from a character perspective nor a world building perspective. This ancient immortal being is with a the lowest class of hell and hell hound, has the personality of a young adult party girl it just doest make sense. Also this scene

Where Loona glances at Tex. Bee is in her true form but Tex here looks scared, intimidated and can't help Loona in this situation. This just solidified to me their power imbalance. They should've made Bee the daughter of Cerberus and Beelzebub, this makes her design make sense/world building too. Secondly keep her rebellious party girl personality, she's a rebellious young adult of 2 ancient beings. It can show she's rebellious going against the status quo by dating Tex after all her mother did too by having a child with Cerberus so why can't she. Shows conflict withoutin Bee's self, being a hybrid demon she's trying to find herself and is going through a rebellious phase. And last write of the scene above with Tex being scared of her, show him standing with Bee because this scene goes about Loona not checking up with Blitz, Bee got angry at what Loona said to her and how Loona is so nonchalant with Blitz's safety. Then after have Tex still stand with her but correcting her on how she could've handled the situation better by not getting so angry and going into her true form. Shows a balance in their relationship, Tex standing by her but also not afraid to correct her on things she does wrong and Bee accepting the critique Tex gives her.

Sorry its a bit rambling, ty for the ask anon and sorry for replying so late.

[dreams-and-honor]

ALL EVEN NUMBERS FOR AZUL GOOOOO

@sosoftandsweet

GAHHHHH I'M ABOUT TO GO HAM ON THIS LMAO

Was your FO immediately receptive of your advances, or visa versa, or was that something that came with time?

Azul was ambivalent based on his judge of Sol's character. He was damaged goods, so was he even worth interacting with? Should he try to kill him? But he's also fucking insane, and that's kinda fun. Guess I'll just let him hang around if he wants, idfk... And then proceeded to get attached to the point of RAGING jealousy if anyone else fucked with Sol. HE'S the only one allowed to fuck with him dontchaknow. Now he's just super fun to watch and be around, and he's just so damn CUTE, AUUUGH.

No couple is going to agree 100% of the time. What is the main source of any disagreement between you? Is it the same topic for all parties, or do you have different sticking points? Has this ever caused a row?

Sol would never in a million years disagree with Azul, but the shards of rage do flare up from time to time and he's just like "FightmefightmefightmefightMEFIGHTME." but like... In a weird affectionate sort of way? While still being angry? Like, I'M SO ANGRY YOU AREN'T KNOCKING ME TO THE FLOOR RIGHT NOW. And Azul isn't ALWAYS receptive, so Sol would aggressively follow him around, fuming and bonking his head against him askjgh. And either Azul would end up finding it cute, or he'd get angry too and be like "FINE, LET'S GO THROW DOWN, GOD."

Your FO is having an awful day and wants to throw it all in and just give up. It is your job to bring them around and help them believe in themselves again. How do you do it?

Azul absolutely does not give up on anything ever, but he does get moody. Especially back when the Restrictors were a thing. Sol proceeds to make a nuisance of himself asking Azul if there's ANYYYTHING he can do. Anything at all. Please ask me to do something for you. If Azul is feeling up to it, they request either a sparring session or a mission together. Nothing more cathartic than beating people up, even if it's each other.

Last time we asked how quickly your FO came to trust you. This time we want to know: How quickly did you come to trust your FO? Was it an instant thing, or did they have to really work to get through your barriers so you could open yourself up to them completely?

I still am mulling over the timelines, but I want to say Sol "joined" Deepground before Azul, he was just kind of on standby. He was absolutely considered one of the colored Tsviets, the Restrictors just didn't like using him because he was so broken. When Azul came along and he got to interact with him for the first time, the Restrictors kind of had them go at each other for funzies, let's test out the new beast on the scrap project zero suit style. And then Azul ABSOLUTELY managed to bust his lights out. He was quite the scrappy boy, though (no pun intended), and shifted into one of his rage shards, launched himself at Azul, and got knocked back down again. And then got up again. And he got knocked down. And he got up again. Now that song is gonna be stuck in my head. Anyway, he was burning so much mako on top of the mako that was building that he evened out and just collapsed, got laughed at, by Azul, and shard shifted again, but this time with heart eyes. And he was obsessed with him from then on out.

Do you or your FO have any skeletons in the closet? Have they been revealed yet, and if so, what was the reaction of the person learning about the unexpected past events? If not, do you think they will ever be revealed?

They are both literal killing machines made by morally reprehensible experiments. I think the transparency is there based on -gestures vaguely- everything. However, if they were to find each other's files, I think it would go like this.

Sol would obsessively pore over every detail, the fact that Azul was kidnapped by Shinra, killed his kidnappers, and then decided "Wait, I want in on this action" and went BACK to Shinra to volunteer himself would drive him fucking nuts. And the fact that he killed all the other behemoth experiments (minus you lmao) would have his head spinning with adoration. Like, wow, Azul is so strong, only someone so strong could do what he did, I love him I love him I love him I lo-

Azul would find it HILARIOUS that Sol had volunteered himself to a project without knowing the finer details of it. The fact that he basically got trapped into brutal experimentation, the reports of his gradual descent until the sudden absolute sundering of his mind turning him into an aberrant lunatic that killed the ones that had done it to him, and the decision to totally scrap him by handing him off to Deepground because he was too much trouble and not nearly useful enough? What a guy, just an absolute riot. It would probably make him TWICE as fond of him.

[randomidiocyncrazies]

N P T Y!

thanks for the ask! i kinda went ham on the AU question lol

N - Name three things you wish you saw more of in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

oof this is hard! the thing is. i'm an extremely fickle mistress, so i don't really have a 'main' fandom? also i think most of what i want from fandom is extremely generic (more gen fic, more femslash, more AUs with interesting worldbuilding, more rarepairs etc etc) and most of my specific comments are aimed more at the source material than at the fandom

(that said, if anyone writes political intrigue and/or the mundane stuff of nation building about the Kree/Skrull Alliance please please please link! there's so much story potential there..............)

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).

okay so i LOVE most AUs, but my favorite are well-done roleswaps (by which i mean the characters' core personalities are intact, it's just that their circumstances have changed). I mean... i still lowkey think about the Persona 4 adult investigation team AU a friend and I talked about almost 10 years ago lol

(oh! speaking of the Persona franchise, i've always kind of wondered what would happen if P4 protag moved to Sumaru City after P4 and gets Jun Kashihara from Persona 2 as his homeroom teacher, and one way or another accidentally triggers a way for Nyarlathotep to return (most likely with P4 protag coming into contact with Tatsuya by chance through Jun)—after all, the theme of Persona 4 is to lift the fog of deceit, but not all truths should be remembered... though I guess this isn't really AU since it could theoretically happen as long as you handwave the mechanics about how personas/Nyarly and Philemon work)

my other pet AU is the Appmon Utena AU because narratives about roles and agency fascinate me! (appmon and utena endgame spoilers in linked posts)

as for something that I'm mostly making up right now........... uhhhh Loveless AU for Oda and Aoki from 2.43 Seiin High School Men's Volleyball Team, but only about the concept of Fighter-Sacrifice pairs and not... everything else (I have not read Loveless but it's got A Reputation)—mostly because i think it'd be so interesting if their pair name is "Selfless", seeing as Oda tends to think of himself as selfish in the novel, while Aoki's speech about "no need to thank me, I'm doing this because of ulterior motives" and his utter devotion to Oda's cause makes me kiiinda feral. (and from what little i understand about the general power dynamics of Fighters and Sacrifices, i think it makes sense for Oda to be the Sacrifice and Aoki the Fighter? idk)

i haven't thought of why they're marked, since they're meant to be Just Some Guys in 2.43 (i.e. not one of the star players on the team)

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending? 

i'm not willing to die on this hill, but i have this entire elaborate headcanon about Euanthe from Counter/WEIGHT having a dead fiance and them being essentially an anti-stratus due to the programming language disconnect between the Divines and the Apostolisian mechs. both are just something i pulled completely out of my ass tho (note: Twilight Mirage is the last sci-fi season from friends at the table that i've completed)

as for something i'm slightly more willing to die defending: Yukiko and Chie from Persona 4 lived on takeout for like 4 months after they got their own place, before grudgingly learning how to cook at the Inaba community center (also Yosuke heckles them about it and sends shitty pics of his humble homemade dishes at ridiculous hours to taunt them about it—at least, that's how they interpret his gesture

and i mean. they aren't entirely wrong about that.)

Y - What are your secondhand fandoms (i.e., fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)?

oh boy most popular media is like that for me... i feel like ORV is one of these even though i did read some of it? (and i mean. i do plan on reading past ch 75 of ORV one of these days.) i've heard stuff about SVSSS (about a rarepair/side character) and the Owl House seems interesting from the general impression i get from my dash

I guess i also. learned about SPN on tumblr (and know more than I want to, even though in the grand scheme of things it's not much at all)

[ask prompts here!]