#road trip trio

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Include (Mourn) Me

Danny thought he would say this but being inside the thermos was honestly relaxing and a bit fun.

In some cases even therapeutic for him.

So he created another thermos just to hold him, in a way that he could fully control, that way he wouldn't be trapped.

Tucker & Sam would carry him around with them, usually speaking with him and including him in their activities.

Danny while inside could only project his emotions towards them to communicate, but they understood him perfectly with how long they've been together.

Tucker was still trying to create something special to vocally speak to each other in this situation, not really necessary but a fun idea for Tuck.

The citizens of Amity were already used to this so didn't even give them a second glance.

The people outside of Amity on the other hand?

Completely different story.

Which caused a lot of misunderstanding when the trio decided to take a road trip before heading to college.

To these people it looked like Sam & Tucker were carrying around their boyfriend's (Danny) ashes, and completing a bucket list that Danny never managed to live long enough to enjoy with them.

Speaking and including Danny in their activities like he were there and responding to them being their way of coping with his death.

~

S&T: "Oh! Look Danny they have those candies that you really like!"

Danny: *Excited vibes*

Gas station employee: *wipes a tear away* "Oh what tragic love story"

~

Inside a store shopping

Sam: "Look Danny they have space stickers, do you want some?

Danny in the shopping cart's baby seat: *Space! Stick them on my thermos*

Tucker looking at Danny's thermos: "Good idea Danny, It'll make your thermos look really nice!"

People around them: "Is that an urn? Are they speaking to the ashes?"

~

At a museum

Tucker: " 3 adult bracelet passes to the space exhibition please"

Employee: "3? Sorry sir I need to personally put them on, could you call for your third member?"

Sam: *Holding up the thermos* "Here he is. Do you have a bracelet big enough to fit him?"

Danny is too excited to pay attention

Employee:

~

Just an Idea

[jayfey-anime]

[hermesserpent-stuff]

God, so much arguing. Snarky remarks, kicking of seats, and angry retorts. These two have so much pent-up anger at each other that it is getting really hard not to light up the van with his powers. His mental shields around his empathic powers are straining under the onslaught. You'd think they'd run out of jabs after three hours.

[aestheticmystery3]

♣️Mystery Trio Road Trip♣️

[lapdogchase]

dont ever let ur friend give u a group name ironically it sticks forever and eventually becomes unironic

[sieglinde-freud]

i LOVE the awakening trio so much. theyre perfect. wouldnt change them for the world. they are my favorites and the best picks to make it into fates. no notes. however. it would be funny, like just a little funny, if we got a different trio. i think next on the popularity poll was brady, noire, and gerome and i just. wouldnt that be funny. wouldnt that be fucking hilarious. oh you think gerome would take inigo’s spot as xander’s retainer, no its actually noire and xander just gets TWO weirdgirl retainers. brady becomes camilla’s new teddy bear. gerome and leo do not get along because theyre both assholes. there is no fire emblem fates revelation because noire and gerome have the combined social iq of a stick and brady cries at every confrontation. they get kicked from their retainer roles immediately and then corrin dies or something. the end

[icbmil]

Ross, John, & Polly (August 8th 2023)

[numelfanclub]

i drew the lake trio for my friend @moss79 :)

[i-am-the-hero-alfred-jones]

I was left alone and inspired. . .

[mirigold-mayflowers]

I love this so freaking much.

I'm imagining that conversation like:

Danny: hey Mr red hood!

RH: aren't you guys the respectful catchall trio or whatever?

Tuck: yeah sure, whatever, point is-

Sam: look, do you know you died or not?

RH:...

Tucker:...

The passers-by:...

Danny: oh my ancients, Sam! You can't just ask people if they know they died!

Sam: Well, how else are we gonna ask him?!

Tucker: guys! Stay on topic!

Red Hood: how did you know that I've died...?

Danny: oh boy, buddy, do I have a story for you-

Dc x Dp Prompt #22: the Respectful Catcall Guy

Have y’all seen the videos of the respectful catcall guy? The one who says stuff like “Hey girl! You look like you file your taxes in a timely manner!”, “Hey Dawg! Your eyebrows look like they are on point bro!”, or “Yo! You look like you know how to fold a fitted sheet!”. So instead of an unpleasant experience with harassment you get a nice complement? Y’all know those guys?

So that but it’s Danny and Tucker (Sam’s camera women) on their summer road trip to visit colleges. No on is safe from compliments, not civilians, not super heroes/vigilantes, not even rouges are safe.

Some of these interactions would include:

“Damn Dude! You look like you contribute equally to household responsibilities!” (To Barry out with Iris and his kids, he laughs proudly and Iris says “Yeah he does!”)

“ Hey Man! You look like you always pull up for you friends!” (To Wally picking up a drunk Dick Grayson, Donna Troy, and Roy Harper after an undercover Titan’s mission gone wrong. He smiles awkwardly while his friends laugh)

“Dang Bro! You look like you’re taking your meds regularly!” (Trickster/James Jesse tv show version, he says “I am!” not questioning how they would know he takes meds)

“Damn ma’am! You look like you love every dog unconditionally!” (To Wonder Woman after she stopped to pet a dog)

“Dang girl! You look like you could bench press your friends! I bet you give great hugs!” (To Cassie Sandsmark at a Core Four hang out. She proudly shows off her guns and Bart yells back that she does give great hugs)

“Wow Girl! You look like you know how to use healthy communication and boundaries in your relationships!” (To Black Canary, she smirks proudly)

“Damn man! You look like drink your respect women juice at breakfast, lunch AND dinner!” (To a Clark Kent treating Lois to lunch)

“ Wow man! You look like you make an effort to be and active and present part of your daughter’s life! (To Deadshot/Floyd Lawton and his daughter Zoe out for dinner)

“ Dang girl! You look you know how to find joy and whimsy in life!”(To Raven, she smiled and appreciated it, but did double take at the amount of extradimensional death magic on these kids which check with them about later)

“Dang sir! You look like you know how to properly season your cooking!” (To Alfred Pennyworth out on a grocery run)

“Damn miss, you look like you make environmentally conscious lifestyle choices!” (this is actually Sam to Poison Ivy, she follows it up with “I’m a big fan of your work”)

“ Damn boy, you seem like you’re super passionate about what you believe in and deeply care about the people you love!” (To a budding, upstart crime lord Red Hood who is shook by positive feelings at this time in his life. They track him down and explain liminality and help him deal with emotions before he does smth too drastic like decapitating ppl *cough cough* But he still becomes a Crime Lord to mess with his family and still have a dramatic reveal)

[abigailspinach]

The priest of the White Rat was a slender person with a pointed chin and long gray hair braided back from their face. Their vestments bore the slender silver stripe indicating the polite form of address. They beckoned, gestured to chairs, and said, “How may the Temple help you, friends?”

Halla sat down and said, “I’ve inherited a lot of money and a magic sword, and now my relatives want to force me to marry my cousin, so I ran away, but now I don’t know how to get back to get the money, or even if I can, and they’ve told everyone that I was kidnapped.”

“I… see.” The priest looked over at Sarkis. “And you are…?”

“The magic sword.”

The priest had a calm, reserved face but one eyebrow began to climb, very slowly, towards their hair.

“Uh, yes, this is Sarkis. He’s been trapped in a magic sword. He serves the wielder, which is me. I was trying to kill myself to get away from my relatives but I used his sword to do it and summoned him. This sword here.” She slung it off her back.

The other eyebrow joined its mate in the slow march toward the priest’s hairline. They steepled their fingers. “This is… quite a story. Could you start again from the beginning?””

— Swordheart by T. Kingfisher

[belwessqa]

[hermesserpent-stuff]

An idea for the future in the road trip au

Spoilers and so little editing that it RAW

The phone rings twice and then Jean Luc pick up.

“Bonjour?”

It is a little slurred. It's late. Remy knows it's late but … he had recently had too much time to think too much and that nightmare …

“Papa.”

His voice croaks. He is scared

“Remy?”

His papa asks and Remy stutters.

“You… you love me right? You don't just… it's not just the powers keeping me in the Guild right? If I lost them, you'd still-”

He hiccups over the words and is horrified to find tears pouring out.

“Remy. Breathe.”

His papas voice is firm. Like when he had been teaching Remy how to pick locks and fight. Remy takes a breath automatically.

“Now. Let's sort this mon petit. Why you think I don't love you?”

Remy bites the inside of his cheek as his eye sting.

“All we ever seem to talk about is these stupid powers.”

He looks down at his scarred hand and squeezes he eye shut

“You always be tellin’ me that they can get me outta trouble. Mais I dunno if they get me outta more than they put me in!!”

He had blown himself up in his sleep so many times, had so many accidents, lost control and hurt himself and Henri more than once.

Jean Luc makes a small noise.

“Petit. Breathe. Mon petit rubis, I thought… Oh there's been a mistake. Remy, I never wanted you to hate part of you. I praised it because you kept saying such sad things about them. When you first hurt Henri, who never ever blamed you, your first wish was gettin’ rid o’ a bit of yourself. Petite lumière, I just- they are worth something’ cause they're you. And you're skilled and clever. And I thought pointing out that they helped… I suppose I put too much stock in them. Didn't give you enough help.”

Remy calms as his papa speaks calmly and surely. He curls his fingers tightly around the phone and closes his eyes as he slides down to sit on the ground beneath the payphone. The ring swirls with worry and he presses a hand to the hidden object.

“You gave me a lot.”

“Mais not enough if you be questionin’ if I want you. I wanted you since you put your fingers on my wallet and were bold enough to lie right to my face about it. I wanted you when I saw how you lightened my home and got on like a house on fire with my other son. I want you so. Imma come find you and convince you myself.”

Remy finds himself crying a little harder with each word.

“Non-non. You don't have to-”

“Pssh, you think ‘have to’ is why? Oh Mon petit, if’n it make you cry like this, I want to come. I'm your papa, non?”

“Oui, you are…”

“Then I come. Unless you don't want me. Then I stay. Mais I’d like to comfort you myself.”

Remy hears truth in those words but is not sure if his papa would mix well with the strange acting ferals… who he can feel coming with giant waves of pure worry sloshing against his shields. He knows they will find him and he keeps his eyes closed.

“I dont- i don't… I love you. Comfort me through the phone. This mission… it's takin' us lots of places. Mais you'll be there when it's done, right?”

“I'm always here if you need me petit. Always. Now. What can I do to make my petite lumière spark bright again, eh? Talk to you ‘bout how your brother be actin’ up? He gonna make a great Guild lead, cept he keep buttin’ with the old hats.”

Remy snorts wetly.

“Oh, they be old and cranky, they need some buttin’.”

Remy whispers back through the snot.

“Mmph. Oui. Mais you brother don't need to be sayin’ that to their faces. Amoung other nasty things.”

“List them.”

He asks, begging a little. Jean Luc immediately tells him all the things his brother had said to their faces and the little things he had mattered to himself. Remy laughs wetly and curls protectively around himself as he hears the feral's footsteps coming close.

“What else? What else Mon fere be doing?”

Remy asks as he hears two sets of footsteps stop beside him. He peeks out as his papa talks. Wolverine looks worried and is crouched in front of him. Sabretooth is already curling into his side and blocking the wind and cold. Remy snorts at another thing his papa says, relaxing a little more.

“Merci beaucoup papa. I feel better now.”

“Call again soon petit rubis. Or Imma sick Henri on you. You know he don't play. He'll make sure you be happy.

“Oui papa, I know.”

“Good. Need me longer?”

“Non. Go back to sleep. Must be real late.”

“Not too late to be talkin' to my Remy.”

Remy smiles brightly. Wolverine looks on the edge of a question.

“Night papa. love you.”

He whispers softly.

“Night. Love you too son.”

Remy closes his eyes and breathes out. Then in. As the phone clicks. He lets the receiver dangle from his fingers. He opens his eyes to meet Wolverine's.

“I had to call my papa.”

“You left without telling us.”

Wolverine's words are colored with worry and care. Remy rubs at his wet cheeks and blushes a blotchy red. He notices only now that Sabretooth had slowly snuck his arms around Remy and is now holding onto the thief. Remy leans a bit against Sabretooth, worn to the bone.

“I had to call him quick. Weren't a lot o’ thinkin’ happenin’.”

Remy admits and rubs at the embressessing tears again. But it had been such a relief to he confirmation from his papa. He finds his soul soothed.

“Alright. Let's get you back to bed.”

Remy tries to stand but is scooped up by Sabretooth who is growling low.

“If you scare me like that again, I will bite you.”

The larger feral snaps and Remy decides that teasing is a good option. He… might still be a little out of it.

“Awww Sabre’ooth so big and bad. He scared over this petit thief!! So toughhh.”

He pokes the ferals chest and gets a nip at his fingers for his trouble. Wolverine huffs.

“Stop that. Both of you.”

“Oooh Wolverine cares about moi too. Two real toughies frettin’ like my tante when Remy be out partyin’ too late.”

He snorts to himself thinking of the two dressed like his tante. Best for them if they don't. Only she could pull off the look. Wolverine huffs.

“Remy. Shh.”

Remy huffs but shushes, eyes closing, tired from crying and the nightmare. He curls his fingers in the fabric of Sabretooth's coat and holds tight.

[ogamipukobye]

Search for "Mussum Rio Grande do Sul Trilha Trem" and compare the images. You will be in shock. It´s a completely different place. The heavy rain transformed the place, most of the trail is now gone. Such a beautiful, beautiful place and a core memory for me and my wife.

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

I promised you some lions! Let's talk about manes, males, and management.

This is Tandie, the current male lion at the Woodland Park Zoo.

Notice anything odd about him? He's got one of those hilarious awkward teenager manes. Except... this cat is nine years old.

I was, of course, immediately curious.

Manes serve a lot of purposes for male lions, including being an indicator of health and fitness - it's actually a sexually selected trait and a social signal. Mane texture / hair quality / length is dependent on nutrition and the body having energy to grow (and carry around!) that much hair! The color is also a signal: males with darker manes have been found to have higher testosterone levels.

In one research report, wild males were much more likely to avoid a lion decoy when it had a longer or darker mane - but the girls really loved a dark mane. It's thought this is because a long, dark mane is an indicator of mate quality. Males with longer, darker manes have higher testosterone and were pretty healthy: meaning they had more energy for fighting, had a better chance of recovering if they got injured, and generally had a higher rate of offspring survival. Manes matter!

So, back to Tandie. He was actually born at the Woodland Park Zoo in 2014 alongside two brothers, to dad Xerxes and mother Adia.

This was Xerxes (rip).

Obviously, a very large, dark, lush mane on Xerxes here. So where did these blond muttonchops come from on his son?

I asked the zoo docents and got an answer that didn't make a lot of sense. They told me that after the three cubs grew into adolescents, they were moved to the Oakland Zoo together. But living together suppressed his testosterone, and he never grew a mane.

Hmmmm.

Here's a photo from 2016, when the brothers debuted at Oakland. They're a year and a half old in this photo.

(Photo Credit: Oakland Zoo)

And here's from an announcement for their third birthday.

(Photo credit: Oakland Zoo)

Okay, so these dudes obviously all were growing manes as of 2017. I think Tandie is the one on the left in the first photo, and laying down in the middle on the second. What happened?

I was just in the Bay Area for a zoo road trip, of course I went to Oakland and tracked down a docent to ask some questions.

It turns out that shortly after the brothers turned three, they started acting like adult male lions: they started scuffling regularly. It's a normal social thing for male lions to live in groups, called coalitions, but according to my lion experts there's generally a baseline level of some social jostling within them. It wasn't quite clear from what the docent said if they couldn't manage the boys together, or if they just wanted to avoid the scratches and small wounds that result from normal lion behavior. Regardless, they put all three of the boys on testosterone blockers in order to be able to keep them together as a social group.

Now, I don't know a lot about the use of hormone alteration as a form of captive animal management, except in the case of birth control. I don't think it's something that's unethical - there was just a webinar on it that I saw go by - but I don't think it's commonly done with big cats. Lions have kind of complicated reproductive cycles, and for instance, we've been learning that female lions can take much longer to come into estrus again than expected after coming off hormonal birth control.

In males, testosterone blockers (or being neutered) means they lose their manes. This is why a lot of rescues will do a vasectomy on their males instead of a neuter - it allows them to keep their mane and the social signals that accompany it.

Tandie returned home to Woodland Park Zoo after Xerxes passed in early 2022, and the docent told me all of the lions had been off their blockers "for while." I'd guess those things happened around the same time, since bringing the trio down to a duo at Oakland would reduce some of the social tensions.

Hormones are such interesting things, though. One of Tandie's brothers has a full mane again, and the other is still totally mane-less.

As for Tandie, his mane is growing back in, and it looks like he might rival his dad for length and coloration.

He started here, in February:

Yesterday:

What a difference four months (and maybe proximity to a girl) makes!

[milksnake-tea]

━━ fear not the road untaken .

Sunday hadn't spent long with the Stellaron Hunters before boarding the Express, but the memories he'd made with them were priceless. One quiet day in the Express's cabin, while reflecting on his experiences with the Hunters, you appear to visit him.

astral express!sunday x gn!stellaronhunter!reader

contains: sunday used to be a stellaron hunter, teasing, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF THIS IS THE CUTEST THING IVE WRITTEN SO FAR, SUNDAY IS DOWN BADDDD AS HE DESERVES TO BE BITES FIST I MISSED THIS SO BADDDDD, not established relationship sunday just has a massive crush on you

word count: 2.06k

a/n: happy drip marketing yall. you all get a sunday fluff piece. as a treat. also yes i am completely and totally sane. (THIS IS THE MOST SELF INDULGENT FIC IVE EVER WRITTEN I AM SO SORRY GUYS)

taglist: @sh0jun , @themoderatelyawesomeninja , @xphantasmagoriax , @rainswept , @lucensei , @akutasoda , @naraven , @scribs-dibs , @apathicace , @flurrina , @tragedy-of-commons , @cakechase , @kiiyoooo

“Sunday, we’re going out to Belobog for a bit. Wanna come with?”

Heeled boots still in the midst of a step. Feather-like hair shifts and tousles as he turns his head. At the invitation, gold melts, sapphires glitter, and a gentle smile warms his lips.

March is a blessing, he thinks. She is bubbly, kind, and always manages to light up whatever room she steps into - in that regard, she is not too unlike his beloved sister. Although her ability to plan ahead leaves much room for improvement, he cannot deny that it was her presence that made his transition into a Nameless much easier than it would’ve been.

Although, truthfully, he’d expected more resistance from her - out of everyone, she seemed to be the most traumatized by the Charmony Festival Disaster, and she also had more of a distaste for Stellaron Hunters than the others. But surprisingly, she’d come around to him, and welcomed him into the Express with open arms - and a lot of food. He swears, every time she’s come back from a trip, it’s another sweet or drink shoved into his arms - not that he’s complaining, though.

“Thank you for the invitation,” he begins, then rests a hand over his chest as a reflex. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to refuse. The last expedition has left me rather exhausted - and as you know, I don’t fare well in cold weather.”

Dan Heng nods in understanding. He’s never been a man of many words, and for that Sunday appreciates him. He rather likes straight-forward people, who aren’t afraid to say their mind - perhaps that’s why he’s grown to adore both the Express and the Hunters so much.

“Is there anything you want us to bring back?” pipes up the Trailblazer, dog-like eyes shining as they lean over March. “Like, sweets or whatever?”

Sunday bites back a chuckle. Somehow, word had gotten around that Sunday had quite the sweet tooth. He doesn’t know who started it or how they found out (he has his suspicions on March), but ever since the trio has been dragging him around to various planets and encouraging him to try the local desserts.

He wonders if he’s gotten cavities yet. He hopes not.

Maybe he should check again, at a later time.

“That Rye Bread Iceberg you brought last time was rather enjoyable. I’d like to try it again.”

March and the Trailblazer brighten at his words. “Okay, on it!”

Dan Heng only hums his acknowledgement before turning to leave the parlor car. “Let’s go,” he advises the others. “You know Seele doesn’t like to wait.”

Sunday has never personally met this Seele (the Trailblazer describes her as a crass but kind-hearted warrior), but her fury is enough to whip both March and the Trailblazer into shape. It isn’t long before the trio is waving him goodbye as they descend into the frozen planet, and he also bids them farewell.

And then it is just him, and the conductor.

A small sigh leaves him as he sits down on one of the many couches. He wasn’t lying when he said he was exhausted. Fighting - or any physical activity, for that matter - isn’t exactly his strong suit. Even during his time with the Hunters, he’d stayed behind the front lines, acting as a pseudo Kafka with his carefully crafted words and tuning abilities.

That’s one of the few things about the Hunters that he prefers over the Express - they didn’t force him to hike through deserts and jungles and mountains and Xipe knows what else. All they did was throw him off a skyscraper in the name of the script (he’s pretty sure Elio just wanted to see if he’d actually fly or not).

Sunday blinks, realizing just what had just passed through his mind. Then he sighs with a smile, leaning back into the red plush of the couches.

Only a few months since his fall, and he’s already beginning to think as weirdly as the rest of them.

“Sunday, are you alright?”

Sunday glances down to see the conductor waddling by his feet.

Pom Pom is… strange, no doubt - for whatever reason, Dan Heng fears them and has advised Sunday to not anger them at all costs. Their past is shrouded in mystery, but Sunday finds himself drawn to the conductor. Perhaps living most of his life in a fever dream like Penacony has warped his perception of what is normal and what is not.

“I’m fine, thank you.” He shifts on the couch to make room, but the conductor shakes their head.

“Are you sure? Pom Pom saw you laughing to yourself,” they fret, tapping their nubby hands together anxiously. “Have you been sleeping enough?”

Sunday crosses one leg over the other, and rests his hands over his knee. “If you’re concerned about my transition from Penacony to reality, be at ease. The Hunters have practically beat a proper sleep schedule into me.”

Pom Pom yelps in shock. “B-Beat?! They beat you?”

“Not literally,” Sunday hastes, instinctively reaching out a hand to calm the conductor. “It was more akin to… ominously threatening checkups. Although, there was this one time-”

He sees the look on Pom Pom’s face, and decides to stop it there. He fears they might break out sobbing if he continues.

“Nevertheless, rest assured that I am sleeping at an appropriate time,” he finishes reassuringly. His practiced smile pays off as the conductor gradually calms down, albeit worry about the Hunters’ methods still lingers.

“Alright, if you say so, Sunday.” They look around uneasily. “Do you want anything to drink?”

Sunday waves his hands hastily. “No, I am alright, thank you-”

“He’ll have some tea.”

Pom Pom jumps with a shriek and Sunday’s wings puff up. A familiar laugh ghosts his ear, and immediately Sunday’s face brightens.

“What- What are you doing here?!” Pom Pom quickly hides behind one of Sunday’s slender legs, hugging it like a lifeline. Sunday places a hand on their head to calm them as he turns to the hologram with a warm smile.

“At ease, conductor, they’re a friend.”

Your holographic form glitches in and out of reality. There’s a thin blue filter over your appearance, but other than that, everything is the same as he remembers.

“Hey, angel,” you coo, leaning your elbow on his shoulder as you sit besides him. Its weight is not the same as it would be in reality, but the presence is enough - a small, barely noticeable tingle that has his heart fluttering and his wings following in suit. “How’s life as Nameless? Do you miss us yet?”

Sunday laughs gently. “It has only been two weeks since I left the Hunters. I’m afraid I haven’t had the time to miss you all.”

You pout playfully, sticking out your tongue.Even though parts of you chip away and reappear, and your form isn’t stable, Sunday can’t help but be as captivated by you as he was when he was still among the Hunters’ ranks. Where the projection fails, his tinted memory fills in.

“Silver Wolf misses you, although I doubt she’d actually say it,” you say, taking a lock of his hair and twirling it around your finger. “Has she visited you yet?”

Sunday stutters a bit before weakly batting your finger away with his wing. “No, I’m afraid she hasn’t.”

“Hm.” You smile at his attempt to brush you off. Letting go of his hair, you instead opt to tug lightly at his cheek, earning a squeak from the Halovian. “That’s weird. Maybe she was too shy to speak up.”

“I-” Sunday rubs his cheek when you finally let go. Embarrassingly, his wings jump to shield his face, an unfortunate reflex he’d yet to curb. “I suppose she was…”

He hears you hum, and he lifts a wing to peek at you. His cheeks feel hot - no, that’s an understatement, the entirety of his body feels as if he’s in a fireplace.

“Give her my regards,” he finally breathes out, thanking the Aeons for his training in keeping his composure. Sure, it ultimately fails whenever he looks at you, but at least he’s able to fix himself quickly enough… or at least, he hopes that’s what it looks like.

“You didn’t answer my question though.” Propping your elbow on his shoulder again, you rest your cheek in your palm. “How’s the Nameless life treating you?”

“It’s chaotic,” Sunday admits with a fond sigh. He relaxes into the couch once more, feeling himself sink into the plush. Briefly, he’s tempted to lean his head on your shoulder, but given that you’re a holograph, he holds himself back. “But it’s fun. The Nameless have been kind, and the planets I’ve visited… It’s nice, to see the universe as someone other than a wanted criminal.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

Sunday would apologize, but considering that it’s you he’s talking to, he doesn’t feel the need to. After all, you’ve said worse to him, and him to you.

“You know what I mean,” he chuckles. “To be honest, though, the Express and the Hunters aren’t so different.”

He hears Pom Pom squawk indignantly, and again he ruffles their fur to calm them. Turning ever so slightly to your hologram, he gazes at you with adoration and fondness swelling his heart.

“To the both of you, I am forever grateful. If it weren’t for your kindness, I’d be rotting away in an alley somewhere. I wouldn’t be where I am today.”

All distaste for the Hunters fades from Pom Pom as they giggle bashfully. “Aw, Sunday… You don’t have to thank us. We were just doing what the Nameless do.”

You nod in agreement, reaching through his wing and poking his cheek again. “Conductor’s right. No need for thanks, birdie.”

“Still-” Sunday makes a sound like a startled bird as you poke his cheek harder, squishing it against the rest of his face. Underneath his coat, his primary wings strain with the urge to flutter and twitch, while his secondary wings are held back by sheer willpower. The only sign that they want to flap so badly is with the tiniest of tremors.

“None of that,” you chide him gently, tapping him lightly on the plush of his lips. “We’re just glad you’re happy - right, bunny?”

“Who’re you calling bunny?!” Pom Pom protests, steam puffing out of their head while steam threatens to escape Sunday’s face for completely different reasons.

Before you can reply, however, your form begins to glitch out, flickering in and out of reality at a higher frequency. With an annoyed click of your tongue, you stand up.

“Looks like Silver Wolf isn’t happy,” you comment, brushing off imaginary dust from your clothes. Taking one step so that you’re fully in front of Sunday, you lean in so that your projected nose barely brushes against his. “I have to get going now. You have my number, so text me if you need anything, okay? Or if you want to catch me up with your travels, you can always call me.”

Sunday’s voice feels lodged in his throat. With a subtle gulp, his Adam’s Apple bobbing ever so slightly, he manages to speak with an even voice.

“Okay,” he whispers, his voice almost a whimper. He wants to explode.

You smile fondly, and duck in to peck at the corner of his lips. The buzzing of your holograph morphs into electrifying lightning, surging into his veins, puffing up his feathers and making all of his hairs stand up and sending his already tapping heart into a frenzy. His body freezes into a statue, and all coherent thoughts melt away into a haze that is both ecstatic and shocked.

By the time you pull away, his wings are flapping erratically and his entire body is dyed in a rosey red. His mouth opens and closes like a fish, but all words die on his tongue and he is left blabbering like a fool.

You laugh again, eyes crinkling so beautifully he swears he’s ascended.

“If that’s how you react, I wonder how cute you’ll be when it’s the real deal.”

And then you’re gone, vanishing like a sweet dream in a flurry of pixels, leaving Sunday there to dazedly touch his lips, and then where you’d kissed him.

And then he smiles, giddily, and his halo practically glows as soft, love-stricken giggles begin to leave him.

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