#paint bucket ship kid

[xinnamonbun]

Inanimate Insanity Ship Kids: Lightbrush

I actually liked thinking of things for these gremlins

More then half of this family can be described as "silly" and I love them for it. I feel like Lightbulb would be REALLY bad at disciplining her kids which would cause Paintbrush needing to put their foot down more. I definitely feel like by the time they're teenagers Paintbrush is desperately trying to be seen as more than just the "mean" parent.

Anyways, tangent aside; obligatory @pencilgutz

Close ups under the cut!

[sleeplesssmoll]

May I request some suitcase family headcannons summer addition?

ill start

1. vertin is definitely rocking a button up pineapple shirt and those long a** dad shorts (Because she's our androgynous king 👑) with a straw hat to top it off

2 if they go to the beach instead of a lake in the suitcase there will be girls thinking vertin is a guy and trying to flirt with her

Confession: I don't like the beach so I didn't think about this at first, but now the brain is WORKING! Also, I love your ideas! You have me thinking about an entire scenario. Although, my mind focuses on Vertin the most lol so these probably won't be that interesting. This is more like a drabble than single HCs. The team heads to the beach because of a mission but they turn it into a vacation. Also, instead of a pineapple shirt, Vertin got this as a gift from the kids:

Suits and Ducks

Vertin tried to go to the beach with her suit. Desert Flannel and Blonney argued with her for a while saying how hot it'd be and so on. Vertin reminds them she crossed a desert in a suit and survived a shipwreck in her signature suit. She'll be perfectly fine going to the beach in her suit. It was the kids who actually managed to get her to change. Sotheby and the others gifted a silly shirt with little yellow ducks on it. They knew she wouldn't wear a bathing suit but they wanted her to join them! Since it was a gift from her crew, Vertin treasures it and proudly wears it in public at the beach. Outfit complete with bermuda shorts and a boater hat with a ribbon around it. Desert Flannel and Blonney tease her at first but they prefer this casual outfit instead of the stiff suit. Vertin looks like a dork but she's a cute and happy dork so they're secretly happy too. However, they're not the only ones to think that. Instead of deterring attention, Vertin catches the eye of a few beach goers since the shirt is a conversation starter. You know how it goes after that, our charismatic Timekeeper has a way of pulling people in once she starts talking to them. Also, she's pretty. Even if she's being silly, people seem to like Vertin's face. However, they give up on her once they see her crew, which happens to be full of beautiful people (Sonetto, Blonney, Desert Flannel, Druvis, Bun Bun, etc). The bar is high lol.

Eye of the Storm, Center of Attention

Sonetto was shy about wearing a bathing suit since she isn't used to showing so much skin. Desert and Blonney helped her find a modest one-piece and cover up that she felt comfortable in. She turned quite a few heads at the beach. She doesn't like being the center of attention, but she didn't mind the familiar weight of Storm gray eyes on her back while she splashed around with Regulus and the others. She made eye contact with Vertin on the shore. Vertin immediately tilted her hat over her eyes and turned her attention back to the bucket of seashells she and Eagle collected together. Later, the crew painted these shells together and decorated the gardens in the Wilderness with them.

Inner tubes and Ice Cream

Regulus is the captain of a giant floating inner tube. However, the others swarmed her “ship” and stole it. The pirate captain was thrown into the sea! When she went to complain to Vertin, she couldn't find her best friend. Her first thought was the one time Vertin mentioned she's not a great swimmer. Did the ocean claim her when she wasn't looking!? Then again, she survived being thrown into the sea while wearing a suit of all things–

Vertin spawned behind her with popsicles and ice cream. On one hand, Regulus was relieved but on the other, Vertin went to the store without her! The betrayal. They usually buy goodies together so the pirate can show her all the good snacks! Regulus forgave her when she realized Vertin bought frozen treats for all of them, including her. Vertin didn't want to interrupt her fun so she and Lilya went together instead. Lilya wanted to buy more alcohol anyway.

Regulus enjoyed her “rock n roll rocky road”, moved that Vertin remembered her favorite flavor. However their friendship nearly ended when she watched Vertin BITE into her Creamsicle (orange and cream pop). Vertin doesn’t feel pain or sensitivity so she always eats them like that…

Sonetto attempted to eat her blue-raspberry popsicle the same way after watching Vertin and immediately regretted it.

BBQ

Bunny Bunny’s BBQ smelled so good, other beach goers brought some of their ingredients over and offered to work together, kinda like a potluck where everyone brings something and the food is shared.

Night Fishing

Vertin doesn’t sleep at night because she naps during the day. She decided to try her hand at night fishing on the pier. She slipped out quietly so as not to wake her tuckered out teammates. Sonetto noticed she was gone because she hears everything that goes on in the Suitcase. She freaked out like usual until she found Vertin peacefully fishing on the pier. She sat with Vertin, using the Timekeeper's jacket as a blanket since she was still in her nightgown. Vertin tried to shoo her back inside since was clearly exhausted but she refused to budge. She ended up falling back asleep against Vertin's shoulder. However, Sonetto wondered if she dreamed the whole thing since she woke up in her bed the next morning. She didn't, Vertin carried her back the same way she does for the others. If Vertin is around, she sleeps like a log but if Vertin isn't around, she sleeps more lightly.

Vertin didn't catch much, but Satsuki prepared a Japanese style breakfast with it for her the next day. That breakfast ended up being “sampled” by so many other crew members that Vertin ended up nibbling on leftover BBQ to compensate.

She didn't let anyone touch her tea though. She'll share everything else but Satsuki's tea.

Kraken

Of course, this beach trip wasn't really a holiday. They were supposed to be investigating sightings of a sea monster. They almost forgot about it until Druvis and Lilya mentioned it in passing. Apparently the sea monster interrupted them while they were flying together on Lilya's broom over the water.

They managed to scare it off, but they need to take care of it since it's still a danger to others. The Timekeeper sets out with her crew to fight the beast.

The Kraken Calamari (Pavia's idea) they made hit different. Vertin made sure to save a portion for Madam Z and Tooth Fairy to try.

Home

When it was time to go home, Vertin decided it'd be nice to have a beach section in the Wilderness for the Summer. While she can't control the weather in her Suitcase, she can reshape the land. The others loved this idea. The Wilderness had other plans and it snowed on the first day of adding the beach. Imagine all these arcanists in summer clothes freezing outside (well, except the SPDM soldiers). They came inside and enjoyed hot chocolate instead lol.

Sunburn

They expected Vertin to get sunburn like some of the other arcanists, but she was fine. The Foundation's temperature training teaches them how to protect themselves from the elements with arcanum, which is why she crossed the desert and stuff without issue. Sonetto can do it too (she's really good at it), but she used sunscreen as a precaution.

Ms. Moissan made the children wear it too and used Sonetto as an example.

This means it was the young adults who suffered the most sunburn. Jessica was not happy about it. She didn't get sunburn, but Blonney did so she couldn't hug as much as she wanted.

[x-candy-guts-x]

Yautja x reader

Part two

Woooo another one baby

Again I suck ass at writing so this is gonna be yet another bucket of paint thrown at a wall and just hope to god it comes out coherent

OK ANYWAY

• you were originally abducted by another alien race. It started out just living your life going to work and coming home rinse, wash and repeat. But you started getting weird little signs that something wasn’t normal. Weird feelings in your head that turned into dizziness that lead to a particularly aggressive fainting spell in your own home.

• you woke up in a metal room. At first you were scared you had been drugged and kidnapped- not far from the truth but you thought it had at worst been traffickers not whatever the hell that thing was staring at you through the glass like door. It was slender small and gray with big eyes.

•you found out that they weren’t actually hostile and just wanted some info on you and some dna. They said they would bring you back home once they were done. But the universe had other plans. The ship was attacked and you among a few of the crew were taken hostage and thrown into cages. You had collars fashioned around your necks and were treated like pets. Or product.

•the ship landed on a strange planet with two suns. It felt arid but off behind the ship was a massive rainforest like place. And in front in a small distance was a city.

•taken into the city you were all being sold off. You tried to fight against the chain and you even bit the giant armored lizard fuck who dared to grab your chin to get a closer look. The kinder aliens who took you to begin with had give you a translator behind your ear. You were able to figure some things out. Like their species; the yautja and the planet.

•you were the last one who had yet to be sold. One yautja in particular came up and asked about you. He was about 7ft, leaner and had darker tones in his scales. Mostly muddied grays and black. The seller went and took off the chain. You still had the collar like mechanism however. As soon as he did you ran. You dodged between people and headed to the forest. They had tried to chase you down and even activated the collars shocking abilities but you kept going. Even after blood ran down your torso from the electric prongs digging into you.

It had been about a day and a half before you made it to an area that looked like a small calm village. There were some homes in the trees and some on the clearing. A cool river that ran maybe a hundred meters or so off to the side. And just up the hill past that river was a small cave. You didn’t know if these people were kind or trust worthy so you didn’t approach. Instead opting to stay in the cave. You fashioned yourself a blade with a very sharp obsidian like black stone, some wood for the handle and a vine to keep it together.

•it did okay. You were able to get small things down on the ground and even found a potato like root you could cook up and eat. The fires you made to cook needed to be small though. You didn’t want to alert anyone that you were there. Although you had a suspicion that they already knew.

•you took up wood carving to pass the time, making animals from your home planet. You went down to the river once and forgot your carving of a deer. When you went to retrieve it, a little yautja had already gotten to it and was inspecting it. It made a rapid little clicky noise and ran back to the village with what looked like excitement. Scared you ran back to your cave.

•unbeknownst to you there was a popular fairytale in the village. They told stories of humans to scare the little ones into behaving at night. And when the little one found the deer carving it certainly made the stories seem more vibrant. The kids made rumors about a big bad scary ooman in the forest. You- would sometimes sit behind rocks/trees and carve away while listening to them.

•they had concluded that the creature was a deer thanks to their parents. Buuut their imaginations went wild. Deer were now giant carnivores who impaled victims on their antlers and wore the corpses like rotting trophies. You giggled at that one. But suddenly everything went silent. Peeking between the two large stones that concealed you the oldest of the young ones was pointing in your direction. You abandoned your carving and very quickly but still quietly headed back to your cave.

•the found your carving. This time it was a fruit bat. Fruit bats can get pretty big on earth. Some with wing spans up to five feet! But they were so cute. They loved fruit and looked like puppies in your eyes. But the kids had once again made wild tales. Tales of giant fire breathing monsters. “Huh..” you sort of muttered under your breath. That one is actually pretty close to home. Not literally but it made you think about the tales of dragons on earth and how maybeeee that’s partially how they got started.

•you started leaving carvings more often. It made you happy to see them play with them and come up with fantastical tales. You would hide and carve and listen as they played. What you didn’t know was high up in the trees above you, was a certain masked individual watching your every move.

•your collar had been outfitted with a tracker. And it was just chance that you went right to the village the one who sought to buy you lived at. When you made it to the tree line they decided to not bother with the chasing. He paid and decided to hunt you. Maybe not kill you but he enjoyed the idea of toying with you. But once he saw you carving he stepped back. He watched. And he watched the children. He watched longer than he intended too.

•a month of this went by. The children now had maybe ten of your little carvings. All of different animals. Deer, bats, dogs, cats, horses, rams, weasels, giraffes, and all sorts. You were currently carving a T-Rex. You were in your cave carving it due to the heavy rain. Wondering where you should leave it for them to find you settled on the same place as the last two, perched on a big roundish but flat stone that was right on shore and in the middle of plain site. You figured you’d just leave it there again. When you placed it on the stone off to your left you heard a little shreek. The Rain was no more than a fine mist but rhe river water was sweeping away the little one. It wasn’t too strong but the rain didn’t help when it made the river just a bit deeper. You ran after the little one and dove in.

•Bringing the small but heavy child back to shore you sat him down. He was fine but startled. Wether it was from the river or you- the mysterious human in the hill everyone jokes about was anyones guess. When he just continued to ogle at you in silence you sighed. Being back and next to the stone you left the dinosaur on you picked it up and handed it to him. Then, hearing a noise in the tree line- you assumed it was his parents and bolted up the hill back to your cave.

•a couple days later you were awoken to some noises outside the cave. Afraid you grabbed your knife and jumped out. The poor little yautja that caused the commotion stumbled back and landed on his butt. Dropping the knife you squatted down to help him. He reached his chubby little hands out. In them was a little basket of fruit :)

•you were tired. So tired. Turns out whatever that fruit was made you extremely sleepy. So, after the little yautja left and the fruit was eaten you decided to take a nap. When you woke up it was dark. You felt around and concluded you were in a pile of furs. Wait- why was it so comfortable? The things you got to make your bed had been crude and hard, soft enough to sleep but not comfort. This was soft and plush. Sitting up quickly you realized you weren’t in your cave anymore.

Looking out the window, you were in the village. Oh boy.

Should I continue this? Is it baD

Please tell me how I could improve this I haven’t written anything since I was like 14 and making fuckin edgy ass creepypasta x reader fanfics on quiz quotev lmAO

[weirdmageddon]

yesterday i wrote a scene where jade wasnt a plot device and was left the hell alone in A6A5 because this being dave and jade’s last proper conversation in years made me sad and i wanted to see them reunite properly. i mixed a bit of narration in too even though it was rare around this point in the comic but its just to paint a better picture. also i wouldnt mind feedback on character voice (it’s important to me that the dialogue sounds believable)

[3 years are over, everyone is in the new session. The prospit ship is on LOMAX, as is everyone who arrived on the meteor, safely warped by Jade onto LOMAX as well. Jade has banished B2 Jack to the Furthest Ring already. She hasn't seen her friends in 3 years, not to mention she never met the trolls in person yet.]

[Jade teleports to LOMAX where John was talking with the meteor crew. Her eyes widen when she sees the trolls, giving everyone a greeting. Jade waves to the trolls.]

You’ll have time to catch up with them later. First you want to reconvene with Rose and Dave.

> ==>

Dave... Oh my god! DAVE!!! That’s right! The last time you saw him, he died in your arms after Jack redirected the bullets from your gun into his body!

JADE: dave!!!! DAVE: hey DAVE: this has been three years coming hasnt it DAVE: cmere

> ==>

[Dave hugs Jade with a slight grin on face. He notices her… sniffing him?? but doesn’t even bother to question it.]

JADE: it is so nice to hold your body when its not a corpse :) DAVE: ok DAVE: weird thing to say DAVE: actually who am i kidding who gives a shit DAVE: i almost forgot how much i missed the enigmatic riddlefuckery that is your phrasing DAVE: fortunately i have context for this so i know what youre saying DAVE: humor me for a sec and imagine that i didnt DAVE: but first DAVE: are those dog ears JADE: yes! i am part dog now JADE: because i prototyped my dreamself with becsprite JADE: jadesprite became part of me! and so did her doggy traits from bec DAVE: got it DAVE: oh yeah john mentioned that on the back of his dumb poster inside that bucket that appeared out of thin air DAVE: right before we had to haul ass out of there before jack caught up to us DAVE: karkat had a complete fucking meltdown over that btw i wish you couldve seen it DAVE: damn it feels like so long ago now JADE: heheheh i remember JADE: john realized it at the last second but it was too late! DAVE: of course it was johns idea only he could do something that gooberish DAVE: you know what this means though JADE: yup!! woof woof DAVE: it means youve done it harley DAVE: youve finally done it god damn it DAVE: the evolution of humankind is finally upon us DAVE: the scientists said it would never happen in our lifetime DAVE: but look what we have here DAVE: before me stands mans first legitimate furry subspecies DAVE: homo canis DAVE: as the name implies theyre gay as fuck btw DAVE: its too bad all those scientists are dead and cant witness this phylogenetic breakthrough DAVE: rip to the science community yall wouldve lost your collective shit DAVE: hey jade lets pour one out for the science community for being real ones

> ==>

You are still nestled into Dave’s shoulder. He’s taken a sort of protective position over you. Your perceptive barkbeast ears can hear his formerly bullet-riddled heart beating a mile a minute with the regularity of quartz beneath his time-branded pajamas, all the while he continues to ramble to you about certifiably dumb shit. You can tell Dave is psyched to see you again, even if he expresses it in his OWN bizarre way, which means extended metaphors and topical tangents. What a hypocrite, calling YOUR phrasing perplexing! You sure missed this guy.

You realize you started tuning him out while thinking about all this.

DAVE: jade JADE: umm homo is the species name JADE: so wouldnt that mean were all gay? :p DAVE: yeah that sounds about right DAVE: anyway enough of this bullshit

> ==>

[Dave motions to retract his arms since he doesn’t want it to get too weird, but Jade squeezes tighter. Dave immediately yields to the movement]

DAVE: jesus wow ok DAVE: really happy to see you too DAVE: like if you had a tail it would be wagging so forcefully youd be knocking over all the fucking furnishings in the room DAVE: just slapping it so hard on the owners thigh that it feels like theyre being flogged DAVE: talk about getting bitch slapped JADE: :D DAVE: so howve you been JADE: really really excited to see you guys all again!!! JADE: and to meet the trolls! DAVE: yeah theyre pretty weird DAVE: and im still not used to it DAVE: but it gets more manageable the longer youre around them DAVE: by the way JADE: ?

> ==>

DAVE: sorry you had to go through that JADE: through what? DAVE: seeing me die and stuff again DAVE: except that time right in front of you JADE: .... DAVE: when we were gathering up all those frogs i knew jack was going to appear DAVE: i was waiting and waiting to play it out DAVE: mentally rehearsing my fucking torso getting turned into swiss cheese and knowing you would have to watch on top of it DAVE: i had to make sure it happened to protect the integrity of the alpha timeline DAVE: but if you knew this was going to happen you wouldve tried to prevent it and created a doomed one DAVE: and so i didnt say anything DAVE: i couldnt DAVE: so DAVE: sorry for putting you through that JADE: oh..... JADE: dave D: JADE: well im here JADE: if you ever want to talk about it DAVE: its cool DAVE: you just deserve to know what happened there DAVE: but thanks DAVE: so am i JADE: yeah i know JADE: i guess i should be glad you did that then... JADE: even though i was freaking out when it happened ._. JADE: otherwise you wouldnt be here will us now dressed in your red god tier time pajamas DAVE: yeah these magical rags really are comfortable arent they DAVE: and they stay like perma clean JADE: they are! i would wear mine over and over for days on end JADE: id take a nice shower and put it right back on JADE: and you know how much i love cycling my outfits through my wardrobifier JADE: by the way dave your cape is sooo cool! :o DAVE: thanks DAVE: yeah i love it its hella soft DAVE: its like ive got a portable snuggle blanket with me in case i ever need to drop to the floor like a tired sack of shit and get my snooze on DAVE: ive got a permanent personal reservation at club bed featuring dj pillow and mc blanky JADE: heheheh JADE: can i touch your cape? DAVE: of course go nuts JADE: yaaaay!!

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

☠️ Something Dread, Something Red: Chapter Twenty-Four

Something Dread, Something Red: Stuck in a proposal to a Marine Commodore, you escape minutes before your wedding in one last ditch effort to avoid getting married to a tyrant. Barely making it to the port of your town, you stumble across a ship just starting to leave and beg for passage off the island. You fail to notice that the people you beg for help, are pirates.

Warnings: Angst.

To Note: “Red Haired” Shanks x FemReader

Word Count: ~2.5k

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The sight of the long table on the main deck, laden with food, brings a sense of warmth to your chest. The crew is already seated, some pouring drinks, others sharing stories from their day. Monster is currently juggling peaches, taking bites out of the ones he catches. Benn looks up and grins when he sees you.

“Ah, there they are! Just in time!” He raises his mug in a toast. "Couldn't start without the lady of the ship."

A twinge of pain flickers through your chest at the name, but you smile through it. You take a seat beside Shanks, who grabs a plate and starts piling it high with food for both of you. He hands you the plate with a wink, and you flash a smile.

“Dig in,” he says, his tone light. “You’ve earned it after dealing with those little terrors all day.”

You laugh softly, taking a bite of the savory stew. It’s delicious, as always. The crew’s cook has outdone himself again. You take another bite of the stew, savoring the flavors before glancing at Shanks. “They aren’t all terrors, you know,” you say, smiling. “Some of them are actually quite sweet.”

Shanks raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Is that so? You must have a soft spot for troublemakers then.”

You roll your eyes, but the smile doesn’t leave your face. “Maybe I do. Or maybe I just see the good in people. Or well, I try to.”

Benn chuckles from across the table, lighting another cigarette. “Well, you certainly have your work cut out for you with this lot.” He gestures around at the crew, who are currently engaged in various antics. Monster is now balancing on one leg while juggling the remaining peaches, much to the amusement of the others.

Shanks nudges you with his elbow, drawing your attention back to him in effort to lighten the dullness within your eyes. “So, what did those little terrors teach you today?” he asks, genuinely curious.

You lean back in your chair, thinking for a moment. “They taught me how to be patient and how to appreciate the small things. Like a perfectly executed cartwheel or a drawing that looks more like a blob but is supposed to be a cat. Also how to avoid flying paint…”

The pirates' laughter fills the deck, a rolling wave of amusement that makes your heart feel lighter. But only just. You take a deep breath, your lips curling into a genuine smile as you prepare to dive into the story.

“Flying paint? You have to explain that one!” Benn grins, leaning forward.

"Alright," you say, leaning forward, "so it all started when Taro found this big bucket of red paint. He decided that trees should be red because it’s his favorite color. He even managed to convince a few other kids to help him out."

Shanks watches you intently, his eyes twinkling with interest. His attention is unwavering, making you feel like you're the only person in the world.

"And Yumi?" Benn prompts, still chuckling.

"Yumi was having none of it," you continue. "She grabbed the green paint and started painting over Taro's red trees. But then Taro got upset and started painting over Yumi's green. Before we knew it, the other kids joined in and it turned into an all-out paint war."

"Paint war?" Monster says between bites of his peach. "That must have been quite a sight!"

You nod vigorously, your hands animated as you describe the chaos. "Oh, it was! Paint was flying everywhere! The kids were covered head to toe in red and green by the end of it. They even got some on me," you add with a laugh. "Luckily, it washes out."

Benn smirks, shaking his head in disbelief. "Sounds like you had your hands full."

"You have no idea," you say, your grin slowly fading. "I had to mediate a truce and then we all ended up cleaning each other off with buckets of water from the well. By the end of it, they were laughing and playing together again."

Shanks chuckles softly, his gaze never leaving your face. “You really have a way with people,” he says quietly.

Your cheeks flush at his words, but you shrug it off playfully. “Or maybe I’m just good at avoiding flying paint?”

The crew laughs again, and for a moment, everything feels perfect. The warmth of their jovial grins wraps around you like a comforting blanket, making you forget about all your worries.

“Next time,” Benn says with a grin, “we’ll have to get you some protective gear.”

Dinner winds down, the plates emptied and the laughter still echoing around the deck. You lean back in your chair, feeling slivers of contentment trying to break past the wall of numbness. Shanks quietly pours you another glass of wine, his fingers brushing yours briefly as he hands it over.

"Alright, lads!" Gab announces, clapping his hands together. "Time to liven things up!"

Limejuice grins, pulling a knife from his belt. "How about a little contest?"

You watch with curiosity as the men start clearing a space on the deck. Benn raises an eyebrow but doesn't intervene. Shanks leans back in his chair, a bemused expression on his face.

"Are they about to do something arguably stupid?" you ask, eyebrow raised and wine poised at your lips.

"Most likely," Shanks replies, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

Gab and Limejuice exchange a mischievous glance. Without another word, they both stand up and start rummaging through their belts and pockets, pulling out various knives.

You watch, entirely unimpressed, as Gab and Limejuice square off, each holding a knife in their non-dominant hand. The other pirates clear the table from the deck to make room for the spectacle.

"If you nick each other I am not stitching you up," You call out in a dry tone. Hongo leaning against the door to the cabin, pipes up in agreement.

"I second that, you cut yourself you take care of it yourself. "

Gab and Limejuice exchange a series of challenging glances, their smirks widening as they each grab an apple from the fruit bowl. They hold the apples up, examining them with exaggerated seriousness, before plopping them onto their heads.

“Alright, Limejuice,” Gab declares, his voice full of bravado. “Let's see if you can hit the mark.”

Limejuice chuckles and steps back, positioning himself a few feet away from Gab. He adjusts his stance, squinting one eye as if he’s sizing up a target.

You watch them with a raised eyebrow, sipping your wine and feeling utterly unimpressed by their antics. The rich taste of the wine does little to lift your mood as you observe their reckless display.

“You know,” Benn comments from beside you, taking a long drag from his cigarette, “this could end very badly.”

“Or hilariously,” Shanks adds with a chuckle, leaning back in his chair.

You roll your eyes and take another sip of your wine. "Either way," you mutter under your breath.

Limejuice raises his knife, aiming it with exaggerated precision. He shifts his weight to his back foot, the knife poised in his non-dominant hand. The crew falls silent, watching intently.

With a flick of his wrist, Limejuice sends the knife sailing through the air. It spins end over end before embedding itself in the wooden deck a good foot away from Gab's feet. The crew erupts in laughter.

“Not even close!” Monster howls, slapping his knee.

Gab grins smugly, adjusting the apple on his head. “My turn.”

He steps back to switch places with Limejuice. Gab picks up a knife, testing its weight in his left hand before raising it to eye level. He takes a deep breath and then lets the knife fly.

This time, the knife lands much closer—just inches away from Limejuice’s foot. Limejuice looks down at the knife and then back up at Gab with mock surprise.

“Not bad for an old man,” he teases.

Gab shrugs nonchalantly. “Just warming up.”

You sip your wine again, feeling increasingly detached from their games. The banter and laughter that usually make you feel included now seem like distant echoes. As Gab lines up another throw, you can’t help but wonder if this is what your life will be—watching pirates play dangerous games while you sip wine and try to forget about your worries.

You stand by the washbasin, your hands submerged in soapy water, scrubbing at the remnants of dinner. The chatter and laughter from earlier still linger in the air, but it feels like a distant memory. The repetitive motion of cleaning the dishes provides a small sense of calm, a temporary distraction from the whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind.

Lucky Roux approaches with his usual jovial smile, a rack of meat still clutched in one hand. He’s always eating, always grinning, a constant source of amusement among the crew. A bottomless pit. He leans against the counter next to you, taking a bite of his meat and chewing thoughtfully before speaking.

“You alright there, Aria?” he asks casually, but there’s a note of genuine concern in his voice. “You’ve been awfully quiet tonight.”

You force a smile, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn stain on a plate. “I’m fine, Lucky. Just tired, I guess.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You know, I’ve been around long enough to recognize when someone’s got something on their mind.” He takes another bite, chewing slowly as if giving you time to respond. "You've been tired for a couple a months now."

You rinse off the plate and set it aside to dry. “Really, Lucky. I’m okay.”

Lucky Roux doesn’t press further immediately. Instead, he leans back against the counter and looks at the door to the galley.

“Life on a pirate ship isn’t easy,” he says after a moment. “Especially not for someone who wasn’t born into it.” His eyes flicker back to you. “But you’ve done pretty well for yourself.”

You nod slightly, focusing on cleaning another dish. The soap bubbles swirl around your fingers as you scrub at another plate with perhaps more force than necessary.

Lucky takes another bite and watches you for a moment longer before continuing. “Sometimes talking about what’s bothering you can help,” he suggests gently.

You sigh softly and rinse off the last dish in the basin before placing it on the drying rack. “Thanks for the concern, Lucky,” you say finally. “But really, I’m just more tired than usual. I’ve been busy.”

Lucky Roux doesn’t push further; instead, he gives you one of his warm smiles and pats your shoulder gently with his free hand. “Alright then,” he says cheerfully. “Just remember we’re here if you need anything.”

You nod again, offering him a small smile in return as he saunters away to join the others on deck. The weight on your shoulders still feels like you are Atlas trying to hold the universe up. You finish drying your hands and take one last look at the clean dishes before heading towards Shanks quarters for some much-needed rest.

You step into Shanks' quarters, the door closing softly behind you. The familiar scent of lavender soap greets you, mixed with the faint trace of Shanks’ cologne. The room is dimly lit by a small lantern on the desk, casting a warm glow across the space. You make your way to the wardrobe and pull out your nightgown, the soft fabric a comfort against your skin.

As you slip out of your clothes and into the nightgown, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the small mirror on the wall. Your hair has grown several inches past your shoulders, the lavender strands falling in loose waves. You pick up the brush from the bedside table and begin to work through the tangles, each stroke smoothing out the knots and tension of the day.

The repetitive motion is soothing, a ritual that allows your mind to wander. You gaze at your reflection, turning your head slightly to see how much length you’ve gained. A small frown creases your forehead as you consider cutting it again. Short hair was always easier to manage, especially on a ship where practicality often trumps vanity.

You pause mid-stroke, letting the brush rest in your lap. The idea of cutting your hair feels symbolic somehow—another way to shed the remnants of your old life. But then again, you've come to like the way it frames your face now, how it moves with you in the wind as you stand on deck.

Sighing softly, you continue brushing until every strand is smooth and free of tangles. You set the brush down and run your fingers through your hair one last time, feeling its softness against your skin. The decision can wait for another day.

With a final glance in the mirror, you blow out the lantern and make your way to bed. As you slide under the covers, you can’t help but think about Shanks' words from earlier. His concern for you is evident, but so is his reluctance to hold you back from exploring the world beyond his ship.

So you lie in bed, staring up at the wooden beams of the ceiling, your mind a whirlpool of thoughts that refuse to settle. The gentle rocking of the ship, usually so soothing, feels more like a reminder of the uncertainties that lay ahead. Every creak and groan of the vessel seems amplified in the silence of the night.

You shift onto your side, clutching the blanket closer to your chest. The fabric is soft and warm, but it does little to ease the restlessness inside you. You close your eyes, trying to will yourself into sleep, but every time you do, your thoughts race back to Shanks—his touch, his words, his unwavering gaze that always seems to see right through you.

The door to the cabin opens quietly, and you hear Shanks' footsteps as he enters. You don't need to roll over; you can feel his presence filling the room. He moves with a practiced grace despite his missing arm, and you can hear the soft rustle of fabric as he changes out of his clothes.

You hear Shanks approach the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. He slides in beside you, his warmth immediately comforting. Without a word, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back is soothing, and you find yourself relaxing into him despite the whirlwind of thoughts still racing through your mind.

He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, and the simple act makes your heart quicken. For a moment, everything feels alright—his arm around you, the warmth of his body against yours, the gentle sway of the ship beneath you. Yet tears still prickle your eyelashes as you struggle with your emotions and unknown future.

Date Published: 7/5/24

Last Edit: 7/29/24

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[simverses]

WFS Beach Converted for Sims 4

Medieval sim beach bums also want rustic stuff! Sims 2 Creator Nofrena/Wood for Sims knew this, and here is her Beach set converted for Sims 4. It's a huge set, including both items for the beach in Sulani (or Tartosa!) or for a spot with a pond and water where the sims go fishing. In Sulani you can easily place the water items in the water, on other lots, use T.O.O.L.

Oh, and some of it is of course not medieval. But there are a lot of Rustic yearners out there! Death to plastic!

In this set:

Two boat loungers. Equipped with special flexible wood from Sulani! :P (You will see what I mean when they use them :D )

Functionality like those plastic ones.

Beach Bouy

One beach ball deco to place on land

One beach ball deco to place on water

One deco column, handy for the hammocks if there are no trees nearby.

Functional rope fence, find in build mode.

4 different deco net fences in different lengths and heights

Two Drying Racks with fish (deco)

One Beach Towel with patterns from the set, not really showing all the swatches in play, will fix when figuring that one out.

Beach Towel default replacement - not sure how well it works, take it out if you dont like it or report back to me how it works out! You can have only ONE default replacement, as usual. Towels exist in both cheap and expensive version but looks the same, not sure which one works. Delete them all if they annoy you.

One Beach Divider Screen (Well there you see the towel and how it should look :P)

One Diving Board, adaptation of the WFS one for Sims 2, works with pools.

One Bucket with Dried Fish (deco)

One Fish Trap (functional) place on water

One Fish Trap deco version

One Small Round Fountain

One Big Round Fountain

One Waterfall Fountain

One functional Beach Hammock for adult and kids (looks better when they just relax..)

One functional Beach Hammock for toddlers

One Lounge Recliner - German model

One Loveseat - also German model, popular on the southern shores of the Baltic sea :)

Beach recliner made of fishnet

Pool Ladder, rustic model

Beach Reed - 2 variations. place in ponds and moots

Beach Stones, 5 variations

Sunshades (Parasols) - 2 variations

Water Lilies, 4 variations, a bit smaller than the EA ones

Boat Bed - to sleep in when you get tired of the sun or if you have to live on the beach (Hey, I know the blanket goes though the wood. Beggars are not chosers. Be happy there is a blanket!)

Deco boats: Being painted, Upside down, and a normal one.

End table, which is a leg bend, but works as an end table :P

Ship in Bottle deco

Small deco ship to place on water or land

Deco Floor Planks, to create walkways on the hot beach sand.

Download WFS Beach set (Curseforge)

Find the other sets here:

WFS Big Barn Add-Ons for Horses (Curseforge)

WFS Big Barn Furniture (Curseforge)

WFS Big Barn Build (Curseforge)

WFS Big Barn Decorative (Curseforge)

WFS Big Barn Extras (Curseforge)

WFS Winery Set (Curseforge)

Download WFS Old West Walls & Floors (Curseforge)

Rustic matching spiral stairs (Curseforge)

Olden stuff for pets (Curseforge)

Happy Winterfest! Reminder: Midsummer is just 6 months away.

[blainesebastian]

time away (ccg universe)

words: 1,791 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (anon request) “they take a family trip to *Disney World and Luci gets lost while austin and ccg argue about a new role he accepted without talking to her about it” warnings: none notes: doing my best out here ya’ll idk lol enjoy xxx tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylespresleyhearted

It’s supposed to be a family vacation, one of the first you’ve taken to a place that’s a bit more hectic than the beach. You’re not complaining, you love Disney World, have loved it since you were a kid—so sharing all of this with Luci is one of your top ‘to-do’s.

Luci’s been handling the long park hours well, got her face painted with cheetah print at Animal Kingdom, found all the hidden Remy statues in Epcot, insisted on far too many Mickey Ice Cream bars in Hollywood Studios. She loves Magic Kingdom the best, especially when she’s dressed as a princess and you find that putting her in a dress that matches Cinderella or Belle makes you want to cry.

There’s something that reaches deep into your chest and squeezes at being here with Austin, at sharing this with him, at watching Luci hand him a Mickey balloon or putting Mickey ears on his head. At having him hold her sleeping body as you all walk out of the park or take the bus back to the resort. Makes you fall a little bit more in love with him—as if that were at all possible.

It’s been wonderful so far, more than you could have ever asked for.

And then Austin mentions he’s interested in a film that will take him across the country—he’s already said yes. To a movie he’s never spoken about before.

You kinda stare at him, your hand halfway into a popcorn bucket shaped like a Cinderella’s castle as you take a small break from walking around Magic Kingdom.

“Mama popcorn,” Luci pouts from standing between you and Austin, tugging on your shirt.

You’re trying not to distract yourself from what he’s telling you, glancing down at Luci and lowering the popcorn bucket that’s attached to your shoulder by a strap. You just feel—there are so many overwhelming and conflicting emotions. You’re undeniably happy for him, have always been incredibly supportive of his endeavors and have rarely questioned him about logistics. You get how crazy it can get; you’ve dipped your toes into the industry yourself.

But you’re also…confused and frustrated because it’s very unlike Austin to accept something without talking to you first.

“What do you mean you ‘agreed to it’ already—last time I checked, we lived in New York, not LA.” And alright, there’s really no need to be petty about geography but, you’re really having a hard time with processing this ‘across the country’ thing.

It’s not like Austin hasn’t done longer trips before to distant places, it’s the ‘untold’ part sitting uncomfortably in your chest, pushing your ribcage apart.

He takes in a short breath, his jaw working a moment as he chews on words, selecting them carefully, “I know. This was a last-minute swap—filming was supposed to be on the East Coast but then,” Austin trails off, shaking his head, looking out towards the crowd of people in the park. You can tell as he takes a moment that it’s convoluted, nothing is as it seems. “Got pushed to LA to fit some setting requirements?”

His voice is a little less sure as he talks, almost like he might regret it? But it doesn’t change the fact that he has agreed—that he’s doing this, with or without your support. You know it’s not always that simple, painting situations black and white is dangerous, it lives in a world of gray. Austin didn’t make this decision flippantly, regardless of how much it stings to hear it.

But you don’t understand how this is going to work—you can’t go with him, you can’t uproot Luci like that, but the alternative is what? Months at a time where he’s gone? You know this is all part of it, as an actor, but you’re also much more used to planning something out together. Not jumping in after him.

You know your reaction is based on fear alone, you don’t like the feeling of things slipping through your fingers.

“I might be involved with a project at the end of the month,” You tell your husband, his eyes slightly widening in two-fold because—for one, he’s happy for you, but on the other hand, it’s a factor that he hadn’t considered. Both of you being busy.

“I didn’t know.”

And you let out a snap of a laugh because, “Yeah, that sucks, doesn’t it?”

The muscle in Austin’s jaw works, “Y/N.”

“I was finalizing things with my agent; I was going to tell you when we got back from our trip.” Which…you hate that it feels slightly ruined, you’re gonna have to stop being dramatic. You get can it back to that perfect place, right?

You shake your head, hating that you feel flares of annoyance lick at your nerve endings when none of these conversations should be happening now, on vacation. You take a deep breath, pushing down emotions, focusing on having a good day with Luci—

Glancing down, you go to run a hand through her hair, and freeze. A hiccup of fear instantly settling in your throat because—Luci is gone. She's...not standing between you and your husband anymore. You look up, this frantic feeling building in your chest as you do a quick sweep around you but she's not here, she's not anywhere.

Your hand instantly comes down on Austin's wrist, squeezing hard, "Austin."

It takes a second for Austin to spring into action, gently taking your hand and squeezing as he moves, eyes alert as he takes in the crowd. He starts calling for her, his voice calm and collected and…honestly, he’s stronger than you are, because you don’t think you can open up your mouth without emotion choking your windpipe.

You’re not gonna cry, because that’s not going to help anything, but you definitely feel tears well in your eyes because how could you be so selfish in what you were arguing with Austin about that you didn’t even take the time to hold account of your daughter?

Deep down you’re aware you can’t blame yourself, that neither of you were paying attention, that Luci felt safe standing between your bodies.

There are so many people everywhere and your heart jumps into your throat and Austin’s voice sounds too far away when he says ‘don’t worry, we’ll find her’ because every worst possible scenario is dancing through your head right now.

And ten minutes feel like hours and Austin is tugging you towards a Help Desk to talk to someone when—

“Mommeee.”

You turn sharply at the voice because you know it like the back of your hand and a large gasp of air tumbles into your lungs as you take four steps forward and take Luci out of a cast member’s arms. You don’t really realize how hard you’re crying, in relief but also mixed with too many other emotions, until Austin comes up beside you and turns you both into his chest. He wraps an arm around you, keeping you close,

“Thank you.” Austin tells the woman, running a hand along your back.

“Oh of course, saw her wander into the shop and after a few questions, figured she was lost. Super polite though, even though the tears.”

She gives you both a small smile before walking through the shop doors and you only pull back when you feel Austin gently cup both sides of your head. He presses a kiss to your forehead, looking down at Luci. You sniffle, getting a better look at her—you can tell she’s been crying too, pink cheeks and wet eyelashes, and the cast member must have bought her a stuffed Mickey because she’s clutching it against her chest.

You shake your head, too overwhelmed to talk. Austin draws in a breath, brushing Luci’s hair out of her face—he’s not angry, but his voice is firm,

“Luci, what have we talked about before? We do not wander off like that, not without mommy or daddy.”

Luci kind of babbles as she talks, clearly the experience wasn’t too great for her either, she’s shaken regardless of being found by a nice woman and bought a Mickey stuffed animal. She seems to know that she messed up and upset her parents, along with giving herself a fright.

You let out a shuddering breath, trying to calm yourself down, running your hands over Luci’s hair and kissing her cheeks, “Please don’t scare us like that again, okay baby?”

“Okay mommeee.” Luci mumbles, “No thank you.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh, running a hand over your face. “Right.” Austin smiles, cupping your cheek to run his thumb along the bone there before drawing you both close.

--

It’s quiet on the Disney transportation bus ride back to the resort. Dark out, the bus packed, Austin seated against the window with a sleeping Luci on his chest and an arm wrapped around you, your head resting on his shoulder. You know that both of you could arrange a personalized SUV, take you from place to place as you do at home but…there’s something so normal about all this that you crave.

Austin shifts against his seat, a soft sigh leaving your nose as you tuck your face against his neck. He tilts his head down, brushing his lips along the spot near your ear,

“You alright?” He asks, pressing a kiss there.

You swallow, nodding, quiet for a few moments more. There’s still leftover adrenaline leaving your body, making you feel slightly shaky. You reach out and touch Luci’s leg, running your thumb over her calf in a calming motion for yourself, assuring that you found her, that she’s okay.

“M’sorry about before,” Austin says after a moment—and God, none of that even feels like it matters right now, but you appreciate that he’s trying. “Everythin’ happened so fast but…you’re right, I should have talked to you about it first.”

You close your eyes, breathing him in, “We’ll figure it out,” You pull back just a little, tilt your face up so you can take a look at his face. It’s dark in the bus but there’s the flicker of orange streetlamps, the light of the moon outside.

And you know that’s so much of a larger issue, so many things at play in terms of Austin’s obligations and your own commitments, but it’s the point of the matter, isn’t it? That you’ll both slow down and have that conversation? Come to a conclusion together. Might not specifically work out this time, you know that, but…

You give him a soft smile, comforted by the closeness of your family—regardless, this is how you know deep down, that whatever happens, it’ll be okay.

[kayakoto-enterprises]

Semi-joke Self Ship Fankid AU ramble; I say semi-joke bc I really like it as a concept but realistically I dunno. It'd be a mess and I don't think Sam would even want kids considering what her parents did to her. BTTWNS Woke As Hell am i right guys.

Infodumping about Philbert Strong below!!

Philbert I. Strong is the only child of Julianne [REDACTED] and Samantha Strong. He is an author and ghost songwriter for a few smaller bands but he runs the Burly Brown Bear Hardware full time after his mom retires. He is a sensitive and emotional soul, mesmerized by art about relationships and emotional maturity due to his upbringing as well as his other mother's influence. Philbert enjoys collecting trinkets and figurines from hobbyist sculptors. Julianne introduced him to spicier food from her reigon and he's eaten nothing but spicy noodles since. He enjoys making comics, making stories, writing poetry, and repairing furniture. He finds out in himself he's bisexual. He is a realist and understands that his art won't exactly feed him so running the shop on his own volition isn't a big deal to him. He never finds out about either of his mothers' secrets- no one tells him about jackals in closets or hands inside paint buckets. They both have their fairytale retellings though. Sam tells him ghost stories about the faces of people you hurt will come and haunt you when you're alone. Julianne tells him that if he doesn't clean his stuff, wild animals will burrow in his piles of clothes. Neither mom hurt him significantly because of how carefully careless they were. He never forgot how distraught Sam got after he said he wanted to keep the shop. Julianne projected her own mother's anxieties on him when he got too selfish. They got too worried that they forgot to teach him to be. And so the cub raised himself for the most part.

[whiskeysmulti]

Acorns, Chestnuts, and Pinecones (A KHR Flufftober fic)

Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn Ship: Kyoko Sasagawa/ Haru Miura (9586) Word Count: 1,220 Prompt: Acorns, Chestnuts, and Pinecones Event Host: @flufftober

Acorns, chestnuts and pine cones were in abundance now with the season. Haru and Kyoko were excitedly gathering them up for Nana. "There will be plenty!" The girls called out and wrapped up in their jackets with buckets ready to gather everything they could.

"Kyoko-chan, we can gather some pine nuts too and roast them for the kids as a nice snack!" Haru called.

Kyoko smiled. "Yes and we can use peanut butter and bird seed with the pine cones to make bird feeders they can hang outside!"

A few hours later and their baskets were full, the girls carried them inside with pride. As Kyoko began sorting through what could be used and what couldn't of their collection, Haru got out a few lollipops and began wrapping the tops in white cloth and took a marker to make the eyes of a small ghost, it reminded her of the little rain dolls, teru teru bozu that were often hung to wish for sunny weather. They had a lot of craft ideas for the kids, however there were other items they'd collected that they weren't sure what to do with.

"Haru-chan, what about the acorns?" Kyoko asked, uncertain what to use them for.

"Oh we can roast them after we soak them and just salt them for a snack like peanuts." Haru loved cooking and could honestly figure out a way to cook almost anything if it was edible to begin with. Kyoko had a similar gift so allowing the two girls time in the kitchen would work wonders.

The acorns and pine cones dealt with, that just left the chestnuts then. Chestnuts were a different case, they weren't as edible as the rest. However they could be used for some easy and cute handmade decorations. It was craft time. Hot glue, chestnuts, and time were often the materials necessary for most of these. Which seemed simple enough to do a candle holder or wreathe by simply gluing them together in a circle and that should have been the end of it, right?

A quick search for some tutorials showed the girls one of the cutest ideas they could have come across and started gathering brushes and white paint. They could take the chestnuts and paint animal faces on them like owls and hedgehogs or any design they wanted to.

Supplies gathered, the girls called the kids in for a day of arts and crafts as Nana had made sandwiches for their snack, they would have plenty of energy to deal with the children. Or so they thought. Children were often more energetic than adults to begin with, and teens couldn't often handle them without their own help, hence why Gokudera and Tsuna were so bad with Lambo sometimes. Craft time was a fun activity for the children however a majority of the time crafts with children often resulted in messes and a minor injury if they were using scissors sometimes. Haru and Kyoko decided to cut out the paper pieces for faces and decoration just in case the kids wanted to do some, that way they could spare them the injuries. Now all they would have to do was possibly use the hot glue gun on some of the items for them to spare the little ones from getting burnt on accident.

However, they got another idea, that would require a little more work. They could take a wreathe base and glue the pine cones, chestnuts and acorns to them to make a decoration and glue a little ring or hook to the back so the kids could hang them up anywhere they wanted them to go. Supplies all gathered and crafts planned out, the girls prepared other snacks for the kids as well, making some sandwiches and juice for them as well as fresh fruit cut up for a healthy sweet.

"Lambo-chan, I-pin-chan!" The girls called for the younger kids to join them. It was honestly a perfect evening for them, crafts with the love of your life and the two kids you had grown so attached to through the time spent together. Haru and Kyoko actually had to thank Tsuna for this, they wouldn't have these precious moments if they hadn't met him. The more Haru thought about it, they all owed a lot to Tsuna, he was technically the glue that held them all together just like the little crafts they were making with the children.

The more Haru looked at the craft pieces, the more she realized it was kind of like the Vongola. They were all different pieces that you wouldn't think at first glance could mix together so well, but some creative imagination, patience and glue and it later became a handmade masterpiece.

They were technically a handmade masterpiece as well. Each member coming from a different background. Each member with a unique ability all their own and a different position in the Mafia, Gokudera the right hand, Kyoko and herself the support, Chrome and Mukuro the Mist, they all contributed their own part to the bigger picture and made something really beautiful even when the pieces didn't seem to mix so well at first like Hibari-san and Mukuro-san or Gokudera-kun and Yamamoto-kun. The boys clashed more often than it seemed, but they somehow still worked together effectively.

"Mwahaha! I, the great Lambo-san have completed my masterpiece!" Lambo shouted proudly and showed off a crooked wreathe with more glue than anything to it. Haru smiled and patted his head, he still gave it his best.

"Great job, Lambo-kun. We have to let it dry overnight, then we'll add the ribbon tomorrow so you can hang it." Haru congratulated him, placing the wreathe on a piece of newspaper so it could cool and the glue could dry.

"I-pin-chan, how's yours coming along?" Kyoko asked and smiled as she watched I-pin proudly hold up her wreathe, she had somehow arranged the pine cones in a shape that oddly resembled her Sensei Fon, who she dearly missed. Kyoko patted her head, "I think he'll love it."

Wreathes done and chestnuts roasted, there was only one thing left to do. They could make pine cone bird feeders using the remaining pine cones, peanut butter and some bird seed. Going to gather the seeds and peanut butter to prepare the feeders, Kyoko was in shock when she heard singing coming from the bag. Haru however just smiled as she recognized the song, it was the Namimori anthem. Hibird was in the bag eating the seeds, which meant they weren't alone, they were in the company of more friends than they thought as Hibird's presence meant one thing, Hibari had stopped by to check on the kids. Glancing at the chestnuts the kids had painted Haru smiled seeing a familiar hedgehog design on one of them. She looked over the others to see similar animal faces like Uri, Garyuu, Natsu, Mukurowl, the kids had taken their time and painted the box animals on the chestnuts as a special gift for each of the guys.

"Pine nuts are ready!" Haru called for the kids to come get their snack after she salted them. Love was also in abundance this season and it was evident in every brush stroke the children put into painting and carefully roasted snacks from the girls.

[current-interest-writings]

A Babys Space Halloween

Mando x reader x baby yoda 

After leaving Navarro behind to begin to look for the child's people ( even if you didnt want to give him up). you had been traveling with din since tattooine. he trusted you to look after the child and be able to fight..... even if he didn't quite like it. but thats not the point. 

it was nearing the time of year at your home planet where Halloween is taking place, pumpkins being painted or cut into jack-o-lanterns to glow in the dark of night. children and adults dressing up as characters or just dressing up in general. a time of candy and fun. it was something you missed the most of your home. and looking at your small son you wanted him to partake in this tradition as well, for as long as you had him for. and you knew you had the perfect costume for the little one. you just had to convince your riduur to let you carve pumpkins and have them on the crest for a little bit.

as you walked up behind your riduur in the cockpit he turned around to look at you through his visor. you tilted your head and gave him a sweet smile that usually ended with you getting your way. “ My dear husband, I know you are not one to follow traditions outside of your own for holidays, ( excluding the times he's tried like for Christmas). But on my home planet around this time we have a day called Halloween. I wanna know if I can bring it on the crest?” You rested a hand on his pauldron.

he tilted his head more at to look at your face and tilt his head, even though you knew what he looked like he still found comfort in wearing his bucket so you never pressured him into removing it. He sighed “ and what are apart of these tradtions of yours” you squealed in excitement and rattled off the list of things you needed.

------------------------------------time skip---------------------------------------------------

Din walked down the ramp to go gather materials needed for the ship and for you to decorate the hull of the crest. He promised to get back in three hours, which left you and the child to your own devices for a while. you looked at the child “ my little trouble maker do you want to help me with something?” He’s at your leg try to crawl up your pant leg. “I’ll take that as a yes”

You grabbed the youngling and grabbed some of the scrap pieces Din kept around the ship for emergency repairs. “Time to get to work on this costume”

A few hours later din is walking back to the ship with some pumpkin-like plants and he sees you have placed your lights back up in the Hull of the ship but these ones are purple, where you keep them he doesn't know. but he knows he hears you in the sleep area and has missed you and the child.

"hold on little one, I know he is back but you need to wait. One last finishing touch and you can show your Buir your little costume."

a few babbles can be heard from the kid as he responds to you

but a few moments later you came out from the area shielding the child from his view, you can almost feel your husband raise his eyebrow under the helmet.

you just gave him a small smile and dramatically spread your arms comically wide and said

"may I present to you the best bounty hunter in this parsec" The room door slides open

din felt his heart fill with warmth at the sight of the kid dressed like him..

grogu waddled up to his father and raised his arms

"alright cryika what next?" both of your boys look at you

" time to eat candy, stay up wayyyyyy to late and watch holo vids"

"thats it?"

'normally we would go door to door for candy, but i dont think you would be down to do that"

"alright.... which candy first"

the rest of the night was spent watching holovids and eating too mant sweets and cookies

[immortal-raine]

More on Mylo :D (Op Oc)

(Posting things from notes, normally throw text notes in her doc or the all blue, figured I’d start posting it here even without any art)

Mylo never meant for anyone to underestimate her, it just happens naturally. Almost no one realized Mylo had other skills besides Haruta, Izo, And Rhea (@liliaceaae‘s Oc)

Mylo was seen as airheaded little kid, until Haruta realized she actually had good memory if it didn’t pertain to herself, so she was his reluctant secretary forced to organize paperwork and deal information when she was caught. It was his version of sibling bonding time. (Based on personal headcanons for him)

Growing up in the back hand of water 7, they didn’t have the strength to survive so they had to use their head. Mylo lost fights constantly, they survived purely out of spite and pettiness.

Mean shop owners who’d chase away the kids on the streets would later find themselves with a bad rat problem or older kids who’d bully the younger ones could be found the next week over scratching skin until red because of an unexpected flea infestation in their homes.

From paying people back with broken or stolen items, ripped clothes, false rumors, or just continuous minor inconveniences everyday Mylo always gave back what was served. (A veerrry petty 8 yro)

Besides childish pranks, though funny, Mylo still had to learn how to fight somehow. Mylo learned a way to tell people’s weak spots and attack them there rather it be kicking, punching, elbowing, or/and biting Mylo made a way.

This technique only got worse after she equipped a mallet.

Later after joining the whitebeards Izo got her to learn the basics of using a pistol from him, even tho at the time she was shit at it, Izo still thought it would be a useful skill to have.

Mylo largely relies on brute strength on pin point spots to take her opponent down (like pts chopper) so having a pistol on hand for enemies she cant get close to would come in handy. (It did in her Rev days)

———

Back to being an air headed little kid, Mylo only became that way in the security of the whitebeards.

Survival mode on —> has the mind of a tactician (still silly tho)

Survival mode off —> no thoughts head empty

Using their wits sparingly mainly for pranks, got Thatch saying “So a few things do fly by in that empty little head of yours”

Also because of these moments Haruta caught on.

———

Rhea on the other hand probably never thought much of it, Mylo was just very helpful when she forgot stuff

From lost items to events, chores and even what was possibly on the menu that day, Mylo was a walking reminder app.

Besides Mylo’s memory (I think) Rhea liked the things Mylo would carve out of wood.

She carved out small nesting doll-like wooden versions of themselves to play with in their hide out, later making little versions of a few crew members as well, that ended up hidden away in their small hiding spaces.

She’d catch Mylo carving out birds or fish, nicking her fingers in the process…Rhea is probably one of the many voices she hears in the future telling her to “stop being careless, put some gloves on”

———

I imagine little Rhea and Mylo sitting next to each other as Mylo carves out designs on her small ship model, and Rhea watches as the cut wood slowly curls and falls (it’s like watching those satisfying videos of wood cutting lmao) She fiddles with those fragile fallen pieces as she continues watching. Once Mylo is done, Rhea gets to paint it with Mylo watching and fiddling with the semi dry paint left on Rhea’s art tools. afterwards they test it’s floating ability with a stolen mop bucket and water. (Did it float? idk)

[rebockey]

Silly art full of dnd campaign references that only an audience of 10 will fully understand. If that, tbh. Even I don't fully understand what happened here.

--

Please don't make me do an image descriptio-

We're in the mancave of the Creature of the Deep, an Aboleth overlord of the passage of dead, aka Father or Dabby to the cool above-table kids. Reclined on a sofa that probably smells, Dabby plays the playstation with Sigrid, a monster hunter Ranger-turned-Fathomless Warlock who sports facial war paint, tribal tattoos and scars, and a t-shirt that reads Women Want Me, Fish Fear Me. She has lil pink sockies because she deserves pretty things. From Sigrid's outrage and the smug look exuding from the Aboleth's three eyes and huge toothy grin, it looks like Dabby's winning what is probably FIFA considering the green glare from the TV. Which is impressive, considering he's also smoking a joint, waving a cap that reads Kiss My Bass, spilling a bowl of crisps, dropping a Queen coin in Sigrid's drink, generally wiggling gleeful tentacles, and crushing a beer can over newly-employed Reika, a dark elf blood hunter who defends against the beer spillage while playing darts. She's looking great considering she's dead. And a werewolf. Around the room are references to the campaign including a wanted poster of everyone's favourite undead friend Qwyn, a Jaws poster (signed by Jaws of course), and a book written by Asmodeus on 'How to Win Conduits and Influence Mortals' resting on a stone table that's inscribed Property of Bardh Museum. How are you doing, listener? Had enough yet? Sit tight, about 40% more to come. A bonsai tree provides the only semblance of life in this room while a model ship with golden sails brightens up the place under an equally bright neon sign that reads 'My Cave My Rules'. Stalactites drip into buckets and make you realise just how smoky the room is and how dank and damp the walls and floor are - and is that a black humanoid cat creature peeping through a crack in the wall? Why yes it is! That's Moonlight-Through-Rain who explored some faint archway runes the last time she was having a near death experience. And by exploring I absolutely mean chipping through a wall out of curiosity rich on the hubris scale. But it's fine, since Dabby has since installed a bolt on the runic arch so there's no letting that curious kitty into the eclectic scene. There's also a rug here. Ocean colours. It doesn't have a joke, I just wanted to fill a space.

[nonagesimus]

Birthday Prompt 3 - Damian and Tim reluctant bonding

Prompted by @vvienne

“I can’t believe you hit the wrong button.”

“If you were half as smart as you think you are it wouldn’t have been the wrong button.”

Tim pinched the bridge of his nose and fought back a surge of fury. It had been a long time since Damian's last attempt at actually harming him. They were supposed to be on better terms. It didn't matter how infuriating the kid was, he was not about to start a brawl with a ten-year-old. Even if said ten-year-old had taken Tim's half-aware tirade while he puzzled through the Riddler's latest test as gospel and dove directly for what turned out to be very much the wrong button. It could be worse. It could've been one of those tests that spawned a bunch of robots they had to fight, or one that had started the countdown on a bomb, or one that would've dropped a bucket of paint on them.

Instead they were just stuck in a shipping container together, and so far they hadn't been able to find any indication it was something they could open from the inside, so they'd had to request help on comms.

Steph had laughed for nearly a full minute before saying she was in the middle of planting some bugs in the Iceberg Lounge but she'd be over as soon as she was done.

So, ok, maybe it couldn't get worse.

Tim had sat down in a corner at the far end of the container from where Damian was pacing, giving him as much space as possible. He wasn't sure if it was doing much—He didn't think much was going to help until they had an exit. It was something at least. Damian's hood was up, shadowing his face, and every movement he made was sharp and angry.

"We're fine," he pointed out. "There isn't even a screen in here. If Riddler was planning on doing anything he'd want to brag about it. No screen, no bragging, no trouble.”

"That's not the point," Damian snapped. "We were bested by Nygma. That's simply pathetic."

The sentiment wasn't lost on Tim, but he could admit that was probably ego rather than sense. Riddler was a pain in the ass, but the fact that he was a pain was a point in favour of him actually being pretty good at his job. Regrettable, but true. There was a reason he'd checked in with Steph first when it came to getting a rescue; she'd be able to get through the puzzles faster than most bats, and while she'd make fun of them far longer than would feel appropriate, there wasn't the same burn to failing in front of her that Tim would feel if it were Dick or Jason. Or, God forbid, Bruce.

Or at least it felt that way to Tim. Maybe Damian wouldn't agree.

He watched the kid pace for a few more minutes before he said, "Would you have preferred I call someone other than Batgirl?"

Damian sniffed. "Her skills may be adequate in this area specifically." It was about as big a compliment as Tim had ever heard Damian give. He'd have to tell Steph once they had a moment to themselves. "The other Batgirl, however, would be more discrete."

Ah. That tracked.

"You know what they're like," Tim said. "They tell each other everything."

It was even odds if Cass would've ended up calling in Steph herself anyway. She wasn't bad at puzzles when she tried, but she didn't have much patience for them. Especially wordplay, which Riddler loved.

"Tt."

That made Tim feel like he might've scored a point. Probably not the way he should be thinking about the conversation.

"I figured she was the least likely to tell B," he said, baldly.

Damian's eyes flashed towards him. "You're trying to hide your failure from my father?"

"First of all," Tim said, "The failure is both of ours. Secondly, yeah, I really am."

"You should learn to face your shortcomings directly, Drake," Damian said.

Tim, politely, didn't call him out on the use of his name. "Ok, you can tell him what happened."

Damian's scowl deepened for a long moment before he said, "Have it your way."

He starting pacing again without saying anything else, so Tim just leant back further against the wall, tipping his head to rest against it. Thought about closing his eyes, but dismissed it. Even if it had been a while, that felt like taking being vulnerable in front of Damian to a new, idiotic level. Instead he briefly checked in with Batgirl and just got a double tap that indicated she'd acknowledged his message but couldn't talk. Probably still in the Iceberg Lounge, then. For a lack of anything better to so he dug around in his utility belt until he found a little bag of trail mix so he could at least snack.

When he realised Damian was watching him, he held the bag out.

"Want some?"

Damian did nothing for a moment—apparently giving it the same amount of consideration that Tim had given shutting his eyes—before stomping over and grabbing a couple of dried cranberries.

Tim considered calling him out for only taking the best bits, before ultimately deciding they didn't have the kind of relationship where that would be taken as teasing, and said, "You should sit. We're gonna be here until Batgirl finishes up."

The kid scowled into middle distance for a moment before dropping gracefully into a cross-legged position.

"Do you really think you'll be able to hide this from Father?" he asked, apropos of nothing, several long a silent minutes later.

"Eh," Tim said. "If he looks into it he'll probably figure it out, so the main goal is to keep him from thinking he needs to look into it. But it's not like it'll be the first time I've lied to Batman."

Damian fixed him with an intense gaze, leaned towards him so far he rocked forwards a little, and said, "Tell me how."

[i-was-bored-so-this-happened]

Second Star Chapter Fifteen: The Fireflies

Fandom: The Mandalorian Wordcount: 4.6k Warnings: Description of injury

Okan, Mando and the child land on a forest planet. Okan and the child struggle with the effects of planet-hopping, and to distract herself Okan returns to gardening. After a close call with a bounty hunter, Mando takes care of Okan for a change

AO3 Link Previous Chapter | Next Chapter Writing Masterpost

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Okan is pursuing a ridiculously frivolous endeavour. Alright, that’s not the phrasing Mando’s going to use when he sees it, but they’re the longest words she can think of to describe the thoughts that will roll around his helmet when he sees it. He’s been gone for almost two weeks now, but he’d sent a message through the commlink he’d given her four planets ago to tell her that he should be back before dark today. He’d been reluctant to give her the comm, it ties him to Okan and the kid, but a couple of months ago he’d come back from a job early in the morning and she’d attacked him out of surprise. She’d landed some good hits, but he thought it best to prevent it from becoming a repeat event.

At least she’s kept the floor of the hull clean, covered in the biggest tarpaulin she could find, he can’t yell at her for that. On the tarp, she’s amassed an impressive collection of paint cans, buckets and empty ration tins. As per Mando’s stipulations, she had waited a week before going to the town market and had only paid with Mon Calamari credits. She’d used her cranky old hoverboard to transport all her purchases herself because Mando had lectured her about trackers on commercial hoverboards. It had taken a while to go back and forth from the market to the ship to the market, meandering aimlessly through the forest for the first three-quarters of an hour to throw off any potential followers, but she’d done it. Four sacks of compost - two dry and crumbly and two moist and dark - packs of draining rocks and drip waterers and plant food, and a crub. The portable kind can rarely be relied on, all spindly metal and plastic, so she’d shored it up with rust-resistant scrap metal and set it up in the kitchen. She’d sacrificed one of Mando’s screwdrivers to punch drainage holes into her chosen containers and spent the last few days potting. Some vegetables she’d found in that same market, some self-seeds she’d pulled out of fruit before giving them to the baby and some flowers she’d uprooted from the woods just outside of the ship. Forest planets are her favourite for the sheer density of life held on the surface.

They’ve been planet-hopping for months. The longest they’ve stayed anywhere is sixteen days, on a ring planet so full of droids and cameras they’d hardly left the ship. Sleep schedules are nonexistent with so many different time zones to keep up with and Okan’s been nursing a headache for the past three days but for now, elbow-deep in dirt, she doesn’t feel too bad. The baby is in the cubby with his wooden snake, still awake. Still. Awake. He’s getting better at sleeping when Mando’s not around, but the constant travel has him all turned around too. Okan’s managed to keep up a steady stream of stories and she’s only hoping he doesn’t notice she’s repeating rhymes. She has no energy for games. At least when she’s doing this she can sit on the floor. Pull one can towards her, fill it with the layers of rock and soil and food and eventually the plant and then shove the can aside to prepare the next one. It’s repetitive work, but it’s nice, using her arms and skills she hasn’t employed for close on nine months.

The hull door creaks and cranks down into position. Okan pulls her hands from the current pot and claps the soil off them, rubbing the back of her hand on her cheek for good measure before she stands and ties her cloak into a sling for the baby.

“What fresh hell is this?” Mando, at the bottom of the ramp. A body is slung over his shoulder like a bag of rice. Okan tries to keep the baby facing in towards her stomach as she settles him in the sling.

“Mando, we talked about this.”

“We did not.”

“About you bringing dead bodies back while the baby’s awake.”

“He’s not dead,” Mando tells her, doing a little jump on the spot to jostle the body. It groans and a leg kicks out, but Mando catches it, “Yet.”

“He doesn’t know that!”

“Would you rather I leave our fuel money in the forest?” Mando counters in that dry, unimpressed way. Okan sighs, blowing air up past her nose and into stray hairs that are propelled upwards for a moment. The baby, fascinated, tries to grab the tendrils of hair. “There’s a clearing about five minutes back. Take him there while I deal with this. Why is he still awake, anyway?”

“It’s the planet-hopping,” Okan answers, pulling off one glove to wrap tendrils of warmth from one of the lights around her fingers. She’s brought this up before and ended up in a bad spat with the Mandalorian. The subject, paired with their tiredness, has made their silences spiky “His little body doesn’t know what time it is anymore, he’s getting overtired and then oversleeping-”

“Now is not the time-”

“-We need to stay somewhere, Mando, actually stay. Just as we adjust we move again, I...we can’t keep up with this.”

“I told you to leave.”

There’s a moment. That swift, silent battle between Mando and Okan that always takes place when he gives her some kind of order. It’s always silent, but it’s always fierce. It always looks so one-sided, too, the tin can not giving any indication of what Mando’s thinking while Okan is utterly unable to hide any emotion she experiences. The being over Mando’s shoulder groans again, and Okan surrenders. Still, she stalks rather irritably past Mando,

“Barshtok.”

“Hu’tuun.”

Insults are traded, and the baby whines in confusion, not understanding why the adults aren’t happy to see each other. Behind her, there’s a scream. Okan flinches, her shoulders hunching over as she holds her hands over the baby’s ears and starts mumbling an old prayer. Her eyes sting. The sound of fists hitting metal fades as the trees do. The clearing’s an illusion of peace, but it’s at least a prettier illusion than the salt flats on the last planet. There’s no peace anymore, not really. Planet-hopping’s no good for anyone. Okan sits down when she reaches the middle of the clearing. She only lets go of the child when he starts writhing and complaining about being held. The little ball of light she’d collected bobs above his head as he explores this new terrain. He might be full of energy, but Okan feels as if her bones are full of freshly-churned cement. There’s a shrill noise, perhaps a bird.

“Bara. Drop it.” The distress call stops, and a sound that’s halfway between guilty and apologetic replaces it before a bird takes off from the ground, squawking. “Thank you,” The orb of light bobs along as the baby flees the scene of his own crime. Okan picks a strand of grass that had been tickling her elbow and tears it into strips as long as her hand. She picks the widest of these, holds it tight between her thumbs, lifts it to her lips and blows hard. The effort brings an edge to the dull pain in her head but she’s rewarded when a high, sharp, almost deafening sound comes from it, like a bird call but less scared than the one she’d just heard. The baby stops in his tracks, makes one of his curious little noises, and starts trundling back towards her, babbling away. As the grass quacks again, he pops up at Okan’s feet. He’s smiling, and there’s no way Okan can’t smile back. She reaches out to rub his head with her gloved hand, but pauses when she notices the little insect trekking its way along the join between his ear and his head. Okan holds a single finger out to it, and the insect crawls onto the glove where her fingernail would be, “See this? It’s a Tuli-bug. Rest of the galaxy calls ‘em fireflies,” Okan tells him, watching as it makes its way up her finger. She waits until the child’s fully focusing on it and then blows gently on the bug. Startled, it takes off, and as it takes flight its rear end glows yellow. The light reflects in the child’s wide eyes, and he watches it like a cat waiting to pounce on a mouse until the insect dives back down into the grass. The child runs after it, wanting to find it, and disturbs other fireflies as he squeals through the grass, leaving a glowing trail behind him. Okan laughs as he runs, but stops when she realises what he’s really running to. Then she turns back around and pulls her knees to her chest, looping her arms around them.

“Hey, kid. Are you, uh, having fun?” The child gabbles on and on, giving Mando an answer he can never understand, “That sounds. Great.” The child, thrilled by the offering of conversation, goes on even louder and more enthusiastically. He’s winding up again and the idea of staying awake for another night cycle has Okan pushing the heels of her hands into her eyes. The child scuttles past her when he’s done talking to Mando and back into the grass

“Shik’da, ha’be.” Okan passes her covered hand over his head when he passes and flicks her ungloved fingers to send the ball of warmth after him. Mando shuffles through the grass, hardly lifting his feet. She watches another firefly wander up her arm, battling the headache that’s trying to split her skull in two. Eventually, Mando decides to sit down, and lands maybe two feet away from Okan. The firefly takes off. Fresh silence punctures the faux peace of the clearing while they watch the child trundle about. 

“You’re right.” He says. Quietly. Like very distant thunder that may or may not be real.

“I’m right about a lot of things, but you don’t tend to say it.”

“I’m not saying it again.”

“What was I right about?”

“Planet-hopping,” Mando admits. The baby squeals as he races after more fireflies, rustling through the grass and flushing even more of the bugs out, “It’s not good. For the kid,” Okan waits for him to continue in the short, simple sentences she’s used to, “I’ll take the trafficker into the town tomorrow and we can stay here for a while.”

“Stay?” Okan echoes, trying to coax more out of him and letting herself look at him now. He stares resolutely ahead.

“In the woods. Until the money runs out. Or the Guild finds us,” he explains, “Maybe a few months. It’s quiet here. Relatively safe. Out of the way.” Okan lets the following silence hang to show that she recognises this decision and is grateful for it before she speaks,

“Thank you, Mando. For listening.” She doesn’t need to say any more. The best way to respond to Mando is in the way he speaks to her: short statement to short statement, long explanation to long explanation. Silence softens. 

A giggling, squirming, weight slams into her. The child, trying to hop up and onto her legs or into her arms and instead knocking her over. There are twin shrieks as she tips, both from Okan and from the surprised baby. The shrieks turn to laughter, loud, genuine, joyful laughter as Okan catches hold of the baby and falls back into the grass. As they disappear into the green, a cloud of glowing yellow fireflies billows up around them. Okan stays where she falls, laughing hysterically. The child, figuring out that this is a happy reaction, squeals with her. Okan misses trees. She misses rolling around in the long grass and flattening it, unable to shake of the giggles. She misses making Tuli-bugs light up and making grass whistles. So that’s what she does.

***

The moons have risen fully now. Okan knows she’ll be in almost complete darkness, but Mandalorian armour isn’t so easily disguised under moonlight. There are four or five black dots on his helmet. Okan adjusts her bag and moves closer to him, “Can I touch your helmet? Not to remove it. Don’t nod or shake, just...yes or no.”

“Yes.” He sounds confused, but he agrees, so Okan shuffles closer and slowly reaches towards the tin can. She rests the back of her hand against the helmet until the little family of fireflies crawls onto her knuckles.

“Tiene-tuli,” Okan taps the left side of her chest, where a human heart would be, and holds the insects up for Mando to see as they travel up to her thumbnail, “Tuli-bugs.” She does the same thing for him as she’d done for the baby, blowing air towards the insects until they glow yellow and take off, looking for a more sheltered place to land. Another firefly drifts lazily between Okan and Mando, their heads turning to follow its path. Mando’s head turns. Okan watches the side of the helmet and wonders what his face is doing. Not what it looks like, but what emotion it’s conveying. When he’s annoyed his knee pops out and his head tilts to the right and when she confuses him the helmet twitches left. When he’s angry he looks down at her with his hands on his hips like an elder giving her a good scolding. When she’s done something right he gives one of his tiny nods and sometimes when she makes him laugh she hears cracks of it through the modulator. She still doesn’t know his tell for when he’s smiling.

“What exactly were you doing in the hull?” he asks a short while later. It’s too dark for them to remain outdoors and they’re almost back to the ship. 

“They won’t stay in the hull. There’s a space marked out in the galley for them. It’s food, mostly…” Okan stoops to allow her fingers to follow the curl of a fern, “I wanted something to do with my hands, and I missed using them with the earth. They’ll freshen the air on the ship, and they’ll look nice,” she can’t quite come up with a reason for the plants that she thinks Mando will agree with, but she looks at him all the same with her plea. Her eyes are dark and deep and hold the image of more fireflies that are crawling over Mando’s helmet, “Can I keep them?” 

“You used your wages on the plants?”

“Well, on the soil and the-” she stops herself and backtracks, “Yes. Yes, I did. But I followed all the rules. Calamari credits, misdirection in the woods.”

“Then it would be a waste of money to get rid of them. And a waste of your time potting them.” There’s the nod. Agreement. Okan smiles and the firefly reflections in her eyes squish into stars. Her hand finds his elbow, the fabric between plates of armour, and she squeezes it tight for a split second before letting go to tap the column of her neck twice with two fingers. The latter gesture is Nokanish and shows gratitude, conveying deeper thanks than the words themselves. The other gesture, the hand on his elbow, carries no cultural message that he’s aware of. It’s something she likes to do on rare occasions: a squeeze of the elbow, nudge of a foot, flicking her fingers against his beskar to hear the ting sound and smile at it. In the cockpit, when she wants to look at what he’s doing, she sets her forearms on the back of his chair and leans over him, and once or twice her fingers have trailed over his shoulder and onto the fabric of the cowl that sits about his neck. He hasn’t been able to find the reason behind it yet, hasn’t asked. She’s learned how to read the movement of his shoulders for the most part and always withdraws the moment he tenses, taking the baby with her if he’s sitting on Mando. At this moment, as the Razor Crest comes into view and Okan sends her light back to its source, the baby flops over Mando’s arm and waves his hands in the air. Still awake, damn him.

“I’m not lifting all those pots for you.” Mando tells Okan as they step back into the hull. He throws the switch to close the door and lights flicker on.

“I’ll manage,” Okan assures him, adjusting her cloak. When she turns her back on Mando he sees she’s modified it into yet another iteration of a sling, one he’s seen before that holds the baby close to her back, “Pop him in so he won’t bother you.”

“I can take him while you do this.”

“It’s alright, he might fall asleep if I keep him still and warm,” Mando slots the baby into place, then holds him there while Okan tightens the straps to secure him, “Might. Besides, you’ve been gone for almost two weeks, you need rest too.” Well, the child does seem content. He’s not complaining about his new perch at least, making small ooh sounds when Okan squats to pick up a bucket. She doesn’t show any struggle with the weight, and by the looks of the containers none of them should be too heavy for her by Mando’s estimations. She’s strong, but she knows her limits. She turns back to Mando with a pleased expression and the large bucket held in front of her, “Goodnight, Mandalorian.”

Mando tracks through the ship to resume routine, checking on every crate and door and tool. He doesn’t move them from wherever Okan has put them, he’s just making sure they’re still there. There’s a screwdriver he’d left on the workbench he can’t see anymore, but that’s a problem for tomorrow. She doesn’t touch the cockpit when he’s gone, so his tour through it before he retires to his room is brief. During his scans of the ship he does pass Okan several times, but she doesn’t try to engage him in conversation. She has said goodnight and marked the end of their time together - they exist in their own individual space until the morning. Her exchanges with the child are low and lilting, trying to lull him into sleep. Mando can hear them pass his door when he’s in his room. Okan goes back and forth and back and forth from hull to galley and back again with each plant while Mando strips himself of armour and settles to studying his datapad. He can tell when the baby finally falls asleep, because Okan finally stops talking. She shuffles up and down for a few hours yet before the door to her own room slides open and closed, and then Mando can’t hear anything.

***

The plants are restricted to the galley for about a month to adjust to their new homes and surroundings before Okan starts to move them around. The first is a plant in the refresher, a tiny thing in a ration tin she suspends from a hook in the ceiling that releases a pleasing smell when the water showers run. Then a second ration tin set between the two sinks in the same room that’s only allowed to stay because Okan has promised it won’t climb up the wall as it grows. Several have been relocated to Okan’s own room, the ones that will produce colourful buds, lined up along the blank wall opposite the door. A couple of pots, heavier ones that can be attached to the walls via hooks or ropes and trusted not to slide around during jumps, have made it into the corridors. Between them, the child’s toys and Okan’s blankets, it’s now fairly obvious that other people live on the Razor Crest. Mando’s been avoiding thinking about how he feels about that in case it’s angry. He doesn’t have reason to be angry at them. 

He’d listened to Okan and they’d stayed on the forest planet for several weeks more. For the most part, they stay on the ship in the woods. After completing each job he manages to root out Mando moves the ship to a new region of the planet so they don’t risk becoming fixtures as they had in Sorgan. Unfortunately, there aren’t many jobs to be had but he and Okan are experts at the art of laying low and finding menial tasks to fill their days. She doesn’t object to moving over the planet’s surface as much as he’d worried she would, rather she relishes having new spaces to explore. She always does, no matter what sort of planet they land on, but he can see forest planets are something special to her. He’d have to be blind not to see that. 

Once she has their routine down, she sticks to it like glue. Every morning, the first Mando hears of her is when a door creaks open and he leaves what he’s doing to find her sitting on the hull door or directly on the grass in her nightclothes, her eyes closed and her face upturned to the sun to absorb the light and warmth. If uninterrupted, she’ll sit like that until the child wakes up. Mando never interrupts her. Through the rest of the day he can mostly track her by sound as she talks to the baby, and if she goes out of earshot she tends to leave her commlink open so Mando can hear if there’s any trouble. So far, there hasn’t been. Mando himself does as he always does: tidies the ship, cleans his armour, maintains the repairs, works out their next three or four bolt holes for whenever they have to leave this place. 

Today he’s woken from a few hours of stolen sleep in the cockpit by Okan’s voice, as he so often is. The difference this time is that it’s coming through the commlink. She’d left with the child in the morning, but now the sun hangs low and blood-red in the sky.

Mando. Mando, she stretches out the first syllable in the sing-song voice she uses when she doesn’t want to alarm the baby, wake up and let us in…I really hope you’re asleep and not just ignoring us, the comm is in her chair so he pushes himself upright to twist around for it, but spies movement out of the windows ahead of him, Aha! You moved. You see us? She’s waving from where she stands at the treeline, big arcs of her arm over her head. It’s a good thing her cloak is red, it’s what distinguishes her from the woods. Mando scoops up the comm her voice is still filtering through,

“I see you. Disengaging ground safety protocols.” he tells her. Confusion sprouts when he sees Okan check her surroundings before she moves, and when she does she darts from tree to tree. It’s odd. 

Got a blaster on you? Just in case? She asks, as though there’s any world in which Mando isn’t armed at all times. The question is more than enough to alarm him. He doesn’t ask why, just drops down the ladder and triggers the door. He slinks down the ramp, pulse rifle ready. Okan moves quickly, zig-zagging through the trees. 

“What am I looking for?” he asks when she steps onto the ramp. He chances a single glance at his companion - the child is held tight to her side and seems fine, but Okan’s hair is falling messily out of her hood and past the shadow of the fabric he can see bruises. “Who?”

“A hunter,” her voice still warbles up and down and he understands now, if she sounds panicked the baby will panic. She moves swiftly past Mando to put the child in the cubby, up in his hammock, and closes the door on him before taking up position behind Mando and peering over his shoulder. With the close of the cubby door her voice straightens out again, “Guild. She’s dead, but I don’t know if there’s anyone else. I’m not sure we weren’t followed, so I thought I should get you out here-”

“You thought right.” Mando tells her. He steps backwards, and she moves with him. She closes the door when she’s told to do so and Mando climbs up into the cockpit. They’re off the ground within three minutes, and sub-light within seven. Okan opens the door to the cubby but the baby’s comfortable in his hammock so she leaves him in favour of sinking down onto the bench by the hole in the wall herself. Steadying her breathing, she pulls her bag onto her lap. When she hears the rattle that signals Mando dropping back down into the hull she lifts her head and lets her hood fall. Blood leaks from a cut through her eyebrow like oil.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” Mando asks. 

“We went back to the pond. I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have gone back and we stayed too long-”

“Okan.” He doesn’t sound upset or angry, just trying to keep her on track. 

“It wasn’t that we’d been seen and reported, she had a fob,” Okan finds the thing in her bag and tosses it to Mando. She’d crushed it under the heel of her boot but he can still see what it was. Her medical pack follows the fob’s path out of her bag and she starts probing uncertainly at her face with one hand to find where the most pain is. There’s a bad scratch on her leg just above her knee, her trousers ripped, “Sprout didn’t get hurt, just scared,” The third item to be pulled from the bag is undoubtedly the weapon that had inflicted the wounds, complete with Okan’s black blood drying on the blade. The handle is slightly curved for ease of grip and the blade is roughly the length of Okan’s arm. It holds three waves in the metal. Mando’s heard various names for these types of swords of course, but the simplest that Okan will understand is a flame-blade, the metal imitating the wiggling of a lively candle. She hands the sword over to Mando, who puts it in the weaponry case on the wall. Out of the baby’s reach. “Oh damn.” Okan has found the cut on her face and seems surprised by the blood. She pokes around it to try and figure out how big and how deep it is, but she’ll struggle without a mirror. Mando steps from being in front of the weapons cabinet to standing in front of Okan and holds out his hand. Her eyes flick up to the helmet, a little confused, but then she tilts her head further up and lets Mando prop the orange ends of his gloved fingers under her chin.

Her medpack is open and well organised, it’s not difficult to find what he’s looking for: clean cloth, damp wipes, something in a dropper that prevents infection that he can’t remember the name of at this precise moment. With one hand he holds her chin and with the other he cleans her face. Wipes away the dirt of the day to better see the evolving colours of the bruises, harder to make out through brown skin. She lets him. She doesn’t even say anything, just looks up at him and stares at the helmet in that way that almost tricks him into thinking she can see his eyes. She does her best not to frown when he reaches the cut through her eyebrow and instead clenches her jaw, purses her lips. He’s gentle, pausing between wipes and drops to let her breathe the pain out. He has to clean that side of her face again once he’s smoothed a sticking plaster over the scratch because of how much it had bled. 

“I’m sorry you got hurt.” Okan can count on one hand the amount of times Mando has outright apologised, said the words I’m sorry in the time she’s known him. His voice is as soft as the movements of his hands. He’s got that caring tone about him again. She lifts two fingers and taps her neck. Thanks.

[misiahasahardname]

for the character + emoji thing - Jake, Liam and Henry TMF and the sunset duo (any TMNT show): ❤️🧡💛💚📖🏡❤️‍🩹😋

(sorry if this is a bit much 😅)

omg omg ok

idk if it’s meant to be in order or i do all of these for each character listed? i’ll do the latter because i think it’d be more fun

(sorry if these aren’t great, i’m trying my best)

OK!

JAKE

otp - a tie between jaisy and jenry. both mean absolutely everything to me, just for different reasons! (i’m a big fan of fluffy ships and stupid ships)

everyone i ship with this character - daisy, henry, liam and drew (how did this pathetic guy pull so many people?)

brotp - honestly? jalia. lia and jake have great potential as friends!!

notp - i don’t think i have one? (i could list the obvious incest or large age gap ships but like. you’d expect that)

au i’d like to see them in - DEAR EVAN HANSEN AU!!!!!!! (we really cooked when we chose that cast)

domestic headcanon - so him and the dromies move in with eachother. and they realise that jake is SUPER forgetful (the adhd brain fog never clears) so they start putting sticky notes everywhere to help jake remember stuff, like to do chores, to take his meds, that he has an appointment or a date or something… it helps and he’s grateful :>

angsty headcanon - so, so absolutely terrified of losing his friends that it’s genuinely taken a serious toll on his mental health. like he struggles to sleep sometimes because he’s too busy thinking about the things he said during the day and stressing if he said something wrong or if someone took a joke the wrong way. it gets worse after episode nine… i don’t think he’ll ever recover from that. :(

funny/stupid headcanon - was so desperate for money as a kid he pulled out three teeth for the tooth fairy lmao

LIAM

otp - henriam. sorry i’m crazy about them

everyone i ship with this character - drew, henry and jake (i think it’s obvious i’m a big polydromies fan)

brotp - also henriam!!

notp - can’t really think of one?

au i’d like to see them in - can. can we have a vampire liam au. would that be ok. because i’d love to see a vampire liam au.

domestic headcanon - his art covers the walls of the house. he makes sure every room is decorated appropriately, and is constantly painting or making something new to add more character to the house. his room is a total mess because of him constantly working lol

angsty headcanon - unfortunately i do not have enough Thoughts or canon to go off of to make an angsty headcanon. disappointing :(

funny/stupid headcanon - absolute menace on halloween. to him it’s like april fools but in autumn. he will take every oppurtunity to fuck with people on halloween, whether that be through scaring or scheming. he is not allowed to answer the door for trick or treaters because he will either start handing out onions or steal a handful of sweets from their buckets when pretending to hand out sweets. evil (i hope this made sense lmao)

HENRY

otp - JENRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

everyone i ship with this character - jake and liam

brotp - henriam. yes they’re perfect platonically and romantically!!

notp - anyone from the music club (besides jake ofc), mostly for their sanity (this doesn’t mean i would hate to see any ship with him and a music club member, i just personally would not ship it)

au i’d like to see them in - au where he’s in the music club. i just want to see the shenanigans

domestic headcanon - doesn’t do any chores because no one trusts him to be responsible

angsty headcanon - i’m sorry i genuinely cannot think of henry angst. angstless being

funny/stupid headcanon - he jokingly flirts with everyone all the time so no one knows when he’s being genuine or not (this is why you’re struggling to pull, henry!)

SUNSET DUO (doing them both at the same time ig)

i have selected 2012 sunset duo because i’m predictable lmao

otp - for raph it is definetly rasemona (is that what they’re called?) polyamory is always a W!! (also like. i cannot just choose one. it’s impossible. he’d definetly end up dating both of them anyways). i don’t really have an otp for mikey because in all honesty i don’t actually properly ship him with anyone?

everyone i ship with this character -

brotp - i mean……. brotp feels like a weird term to use for them but. it’s them. sunset duo. yippee! (i also think pepperoni pucks and raphril are fun, underrated friendship dynamics)

notp - NOT EACHOTHER. NOPE. nothing relating to tcest or other incest shit. gross weirdos

au i’d like to see them in - my very own extended family au!! i’ll talk about it one day i promise—

domestic headcanon - they’re definetly the closest brother dynamic out of all the others. they hang out regularly, whether it be they’re training together, playing video games (and getting way too competitive), or just chilling out. i feel like they’d also look after chompy and ice cream kitty together. shared responsibility or smth

angsty headcanon - thanks to their amazing twin senses (sunset duo are twins trust me) they know a lot of… dark things about eachother.

funny/stupid headcanon - they both have physical touch as their main love language, it’s just with eachother that ‘physical touch’ is beating the shit out of eachother. they will playfully slap, punch, and nudge eachother regularly, and these actions only sometimes escalate into fights where they need to be pulled apart by their brothers!

gaymers i have no idea if these made any sense or if they were even good. i’m sorry

[eliduremaybe]

My brother is an ocean.

My brother is an ocean.

it's important to me that you understand. I need to someone to understand this.

We were raised together, you know? Two little kids, so alike we could have been twins, we used to sit by the sea wall and catch crabs. Pieces of scrappy bacon on lengths of string, a bucket of seawater between us, flat on our stomachs to see over the side, leaping back to avoid sudden spray from the waves below.

I can see it now, through the heavy coating of nostalgia. Rose-painted and perfect. Two siblings by the sea wall, staring out as the sailing ships came in.

We were excitement and noise and curiosity of the worst kind - forever getting in the way, making mess, causing trouble together. We called ourselves twins, and laughed at our own private jokes.

I first learnt to sail sitting at the foot of my older sister's bed. It could have been morning, or early afternoon, or one of those timeless moments of the summer when the minutes and hours spill over and multiply. But I remember how the sunlight glinted off imagined waves, and I remember the sense of possibility and potential the first time she let me take the tiller.

I learned how to steer on that boat, guiding our invisible rudder back and forth against the currents of her bedroom floor. She told me ow to get salt from seawater, just incase we got stranded on a non-existant island. Because dehydration might start causing problems within a couple of days, but heaven forbid we eat our freshly caught fish unseasoned.

But my first memories on the water were with my brother. Our sunshine boat, the two of us sitting up in the front, giggling and arguing, and shrieking when the waves got too close. My mother was a good sailor.

When we were older, it was a bigger boat. Still with the three of us - I was only seven or eight, and my brother a year and a half younger. We'd come off the water shivering and chattering and feeling so important, rushing to peel ourselves out of wetsuits and into dry clothes.

My brother and I sailed together for a while after that. Just the two of us. We were the terror of the seas - or one of them, at least - uncoordinated and ungainly, slow moving, sail flapping, laughing to hard to pay attention to the stability of the hull as we lurched downwind. A tiny boat trailing drunkenly at the back of the fleet, childish voices rising high above the water. We were the best of friends.

Soon we were racing each other. Separate boats, neck and neck, near the top of our very small fleet. It was a friendly sort of competitivity - the two of us against all of them - because if he was winning, then it felt like I had won too.

He was daring, adventurous, fearless. I was careful, precise, accurate. All the while, the ocean: endless.

I remember one evening so vividly. The wind was stronger than usual. I could feel it pulling at my hair, filling my sail, tugging the sheet just slightly harder than I was used to. It was cold. Salt spray, dark sky, churning sea. Sunbeams like dirty gold, barely breaking through the cloud cover.

It was impossible and beautiful, but it was real and a little bit terrifying too. A gleeful sort of exhaustion, a world of my own, a moment that I wished would never end.

And it didn't end. Or: not exactly. Not for a while, at any rate.

We drifted. Apart, together, in different directions, whatever. It happens to all of us, right? Doesn't have to mean that it's forever.

Summer passed us by, swinging from the railings by the harbour, waiting for the tide all dressed up and ready to go. Clambering over capsized kayaks in the shallows at the end of the day, cannonballing off the sea wall when none of the adults were watching. Racing and out of breath, too preoccupied to notice the passing of time. Stumbling inside late into the evening with numb fingers and hair that was windswept and crisp with sea salt.

Summer passed us by.

October, November, December. Things changed and they stayed the same. Coming home to damp sailing kit draped over every surface, the heating turned off, rooms freezing cold. The smell of sweat and seaweed and worse. Dried-salt stickiness and that clammy, tacky feeling whenever you touched something.

Shivering, soaked, freezing cold, with watery hot chocolate that burned my hands, and nothing but a damp towel and half a sandwich waiting for me to get changed.

I stopped sailing. My brother didn't. He started sailing more.

Car journeys starting at 6am, so that he could be at the 10am briefing, in a sailing club a three hour drive away from home.

Weekends chewed up and spat out again in shredded sea water, sleep deprivation and hours whiled away in aimlessness until it was time to go home again.

Sitting in cold damp sailing club after cold damp sailing club, while the sun set and my brother messed around without me, and every person I spoke to seemed like a reminder that I wasn't a part of this anymore.

It was my choice. It was my fault.

I loved him, though, my brother. I need you to know that. There was never a moment when I didn't. Even when he was acting like a stupid fucking twat.

My mother informs me that I was "hostile" and "insanely jealous", which is a really normal way to refer to your then teenage child, but it does describe as much about that relationship as anyone needs to know.

I miss my brother.

He is a part of my life that I can't reach anymore. A part of my home, and the freedom that I once found in salt spray and ocean waves. One that I allowed to slip through my fingers.

One that I let go of, consciously, because it became the only choice I could make. I can't regret it, but it was only a year ago that I realised the cost.

I'm not exaggerating when I say that I'll never sail again.

My brother pretends that I don't exist, these days.