#skylar screeches

[my-tatteredwingsof-freedom]

2014 Gotham how am I supposed to take Oswald seriously when every time he gets caught in a lie he literally looks like this

[saosinn]

skips is a pervert, and a munch.

nsfw under the cut, afab/fem reader!

it's common knowledge that almost, if not every, object in this house has heard you touch yourself. you moan unabashedly, your shaking whines bouncing off the walls of your seemingly barren abode, however when you met skylar all of that changed. since you met her, and found out that you weren't as lonely as you thought, you rarely had time to touch yourself anymore.

your 'alone time' had come to a screeching halt. even when you did have time, you felt too paranoid to even look up anything, lest phoenicia or mac tease you for it. the thoughts started to keep you up at night, keeping you tossing and turning from a mixture of guilt for the noises and the messes, and embarrassment for being so shameless... even though this was your own house to begin with.

unbeknownst to you, this pause in your masturbation was driving a certain shadow up. the. walls. skips' chest felt tight every time your moans would grace his ears, his shuddering breaths falling in time with yours while he imagined how beautiful you look with your fingers slick with desire. he was so, so achingly jealous of betty. she got to hear, feel, even see everything in far more detail than anyone else. no matter, he'd have you to himself soon.

he was so giddy when you used the dateviators on him, he almost had to slap the excitement out of himself to conceal his image. the process of regaining all his spectral arms took much longer than he originally anticipated, the other objects in this house having you run this way and that to solve their problems. skips noticed what the others didn't though, how your patience was running short, how stiff your body had become, but he could fix that all very soon.

finally regaining all of the spectral arms, he was terrified that you'd turn him away, worried that all his allure was lost. to his delight, you reassured him with a gentle touch to his upper arm, a touch that you thought nothing of. skips however, felt a tent start to pitch in his pants as soon as your fingers caressed him. strangely enough, he felt envious of the jacket he was wearing, as it directly felt your skin.

he plead with you to keep coming back, to spend more time with him, and out of the kindness of your heart, you did. every time you came back he had to remind himself that this wasn't a dream, and that you were finally here with him. it didn't take long for him to start acting like a lovesick puppy, barely more than two feet away from you at all times. the sudden clinginess wasn't really unexpected on your end, but even still it was welcome.

one day, sitting in that pitch black space with skips, you were rambling about your frustrations. for the first time in a while, you felt free to talk without judgement. even though the empty space had scared you at first, it soon became a place of peace, a place where you could breathe without prying eyes. skips, of course, listened attentively, nodding and humming along as you spoke - words surrounded with an air of impudence.

"i don't even have the time to jerk off anymore, it's so fucking annoying!" the words fell from your lips before you could catch them, your palm slapping against your mouth as your eyes went wide. obviously you knew he heard you before, but your attempt to maintain any sense of modesty had been shattered. skips didn't judge you, not that you thought he would.

with soft words and gentle reassurances, he helped you calm down, a large hand settling on your shoulder to ground you. after you caught your breath, you noticed a slight glow in his cheeks, that neon yellow now being a familiar sight. tilting your head in curiosity, you urged him to speak up. skips' heart was hammering against his chest, and the urge to sink into the shadows and hide there was greater than ever, but he couldn't just let this opportunity pass him by.

"i—" he stuttered, choking on his own spit before awkwardly clearing his throat. "i could help you, if- if you want, of course.." it took a moment for you to process what exactly he wanted to help you with, your face growing hot with realization. you shook your head, hands mirroring this motion as you fumbled over your own explanation. you couldn't possibly, after all this was something you usually handled on your own.

before you could even finish telling him that you were 'fine' and that you 'could deal with it a later time', he had already taken his jacket off, folding it up and placing it on the floor beside you. with a heavy swallow, you lifted your hips from the floor (?), and sat on his jacket. skips crouched beside you, eyes flitting to yours as his finger hooked under the waist of your shorts, his gaze letting you know you could back out at any time. you nodded, weight falling back against your elbows as you lifted your hips again to aid him.

he moved in front of you as he guided the material down your legs, sucking in a hiss through his teeth when his hard made contact with you. he wanted to tease you, to slowly drag them down your thighs, to really take his time with you, but his own eagerness got the better of him. you barely had time to process that your shorts were actively being taken off, before they were already off and sat next to you.

he took the back of your knees into his palms, spreading your legs for him like it's what he was meant to do. his cock throbbed against the fabric of his jeans at the sight, the wet spot in your panties spurring him on more. lowering himself in front of you, the way he brought your legs above his shoulders was eerily natural. skips' hands dragged up your thighs, settling on the apex of your hips.

his mouth watered, each breath he took in shaking more than the last. the sight of you was enough to get him drunk, but the smell? oh my god, he truly was a filthy pervert. he took a deep breath in through his nose, exhaling from a small 'o' in his mouth, shuddering in glee from the way you squirmed. the smell of your sex made him moan, eyes practically rolling to the back of his head as he did so.

with no hesitation, he licked a warm, wet stripe through the thin material, hips rutting into the floor with fervor. your stomach flexed, a choked gasp escaping your lips. his fingers dug into the meat of your hips, eyes closed and brows furrowed as he continued to ravish you. even through the thin fabric he could taste you just fine, but he soon grew impatient. groaning into your heat, he pulled away, much to his dismay.

before you could even question his actions, he tore the material, the sound echoing throughout the empty space. you looked at him in awe, complaints dying on your tongue as he delved back into your heat. he moaned loudly, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine. "'m sorry-", he mumbled into your cunt, "couldn't wait any longer."

like a starved man, he ate you out, not daring to spill a drop. his tongue circled your clit before he cupped his lips around it, sucking on the bud with a steady rhythm. breaking away for air, he planted a gentle, if not teasing, kiss to your cunt, offering a soft hum in response to your whines. he brought his right hand from your hip, thumb immediately rubbing circles onto your clit. your legs clamped around his head in response, nails digging into your palms, the pain in your elbows immediately overshadowed by pleasure.

skips' tongue dragged up and down your folds, briefly dipping into your core before returning to his ministrations. with the way he was going at it, it was like he was getting paid every time you came. he was humping the floor at this point, every quiver of your body making threatening to tip him over the edge, but he made himself wait. he'd only cum when you did, it wouldn't feel as good otherwise.

his boxers were so terribly sticky, filled with his white. he moaned and whined into your cunt, his left hand gripping your hip in a bruising grip, your third orgasm of the night building in your stomach. fighting your wants, you pushed his head back, the action taking much more effort than you thought it would. he looked up at you with doe eyes, chin covered in your slick as he whimpered in confusion. the sight made your heart flutter, and your core subconsciously flex around nothing, which skips did in fact notice.

"i wanna— i want to cum around you, please.." your request came out much more mousy than you originally intended, chest heaving as you spoke. skips stared at you for a moment, almost like you were speaking in another language. fuck, he could've cum in his pants just from hearing you say that. as much as he wanted to, wanted to split you open, to hump you like an animal in heat, this was about you. he shook his head, cheek resting against your thigh as he looked up at your flushed face. "not this time, i wanna focus on you, so let me, please."

and with that, he lost himself in you once again, making you cum until you couldn't stand it anymore. well.. at least he promised you a next time, right?

— 𓈒 ❤︎︎ ࣪ ˖

this is how i interpret skips' little shadow space .... sorry if it's inaccurate idrc LMAO, anyway this one sux so bad i'm so sorry...😢 also my page isn't a safe space for emo/alt fetishists, as an emo person myself i find yall weird as fuck sorry not sorry :p

6/30/25

[theesteemedladydebourgh]

oh my god Sarah 😭😭😭

I have been working my way through Jingle-Holy F*ck and The First Time Divorcees Club by @theesteemedladydebourgh since last night and I just want to express my remorse for every "other" love interest (for example, Skylar) that I ever inflicted upon you guys because when you are writing fic torturing your readers is so unserious but when you are READING it all logic and reason flies out the window and suddenly you are impatient and scared and panicking even though you KNOW what the endgame is going to be, btw both of these fics have altered my brain chemistry and I'm incapable of being cool about them. Olivia I am ready to fight you in the parking lot.

[puppiesandnightlock]

LINK: Cause you're a nightmare that i've not been dreaming of

Summary: It's all come down to this one event. Their friends have planned out the perfect moment and all Damian and Jon need to do is say the words. Easy as pie.

ft. Jason and Roy as chaperones, road trips, Ferris wheels, and some really cheesy fireworks confessions

“Alright, Squirts, listen up, for those of you who don't know me, my name is Jason and that’s Roy.”

Jason was turned around in the driver's seat, going over introductions. The man next to him had a trucker cap on and was wearing a dark red tank top, showing off the full sleeve of tattoos running up his right arm. 

He waved, propping his chin up next to the headrest on the passenger’s side. “I’m going to do a quick roll call, just to make sure we are not missing anyone. Once we get that, we’re good to go.”

A cheer went up, and settled quickly as Jason began naming people. Damian offered an earbud to Jon, who took it, settling back and shutting his eyes.

Skylar and Akira were scribbling onto the sketchbooks they’d brought, Kathy and Maya were behind them, dictating what they thought should go on it. Colin was avidly asking questions to the driver's seat.

“We’ve got a four hour drive, and we’re only making two pit stops, this is the last offer i’m making before i start the car.” 

No one got up and the car started the radio being flicked on and soft music filling the car as they started on their journey.

Within thirty minutes, Jon had conked out against Damian’s shoulder, still with the shared earbud in one ear, the other in Damian’s. The boy himself was half asleep, head leaning on the glass of the window. Colin had propped his phone up and was playing a random downloaded movie, Akira and Skylar sharing a random game of tic-tac-toe. 

After the second hour and a half, they were beginning to get rowdy. Jon was arguing with Akira about some inane topic that was probably not legal, Colin was playing keep away with Damian’s phone and backpack, Maya was hissing at them all to shut up as Kathy had fallen asleep in the midst of their chaos somehow.

The car screeched to an abrupt halt and they all yelped, grabbing onto another or a part of the car. Roy turned to the back, Jason tapping his fingers impatient on the steering wheel. 

“Alright, that’s much better. Colin, give the bat brat his stuff back, Jon and Akira, both of you are wrong, it’s much easier to do the third option. Keep the noise to the minimum if you would all like to stay alive on this trip, because my husband is much less nice than he seems, contrary to appearances.”

“Yes sir.” Six kids chorused back at him. 

“Not a brat.” Damian grumbled. 

“Kind of are.” Jon poked his cheek. “What’s with the Bat part though?”

From the front of the car, Jason snorted. “Oh boy, now that’s a nice story.”

“Jason, please don’t-”

“You all know Batman, right?”

They all nodded, the tips of Damian’s ears burning red and he attempted to hide himself in Jon’s shoulder.

“Baby Damian was obsessed with anything Batman, for some unknown reason. Every single one of his toddler pictures have him in some kind of Bat reference, and he had this little bat hoodie with ears he’d wear all the time, and put the hood up and would say “I’m the Bat!” in this tiny little squeaky voice.”

The car had gone up in laughter, and Jon had put an arm around Damian, whose face was now burning in embarrassment. 

“Shut up, oh my god.” The plea was muffled, and his older brother paid absolutely no attention to it, continuing on.

“Went on until he was maybe eight, and then he got back into it because of a show that would play on cartoon network? And I don’t think it’s ever returned to that level but there is no one in this family who does not call him a nickname without adding the bat.”

“That’s adorable .” Jon said, Damian groaning and attempting to disappear. Skylar agreed with the sentiment, Colin, Akira, and Maya attempting to quell their laughter. Kathy was sneakily snapping a picture of Jon and Damian in their position, since the words that accompanied  had been less than platonic.

It tapered off into a quieter buzz, most of them being occupied by a phone balancing on the drivers headrest and playing a random movie.

By the time they arrived at the Brandens’, all of them were either sleeping or half-asleep. Before Jason could stop the car and make the announcement, Maya hissed ”Wait!” silently and urgently.

In the backseat, Jon and Damian were curled into each other, Damian on Jon’s shoulder and Jon’s head on top of his, hands loosely intertwined.

”shit, SHIT, someone take pictures!!” Six phones were promptly whipped out, all taking care to turn off the flash and taking pictures from different angles. 

“Send all of those to me,” Jason instructed, turning off the car. At the motion, they stirred, everyone in the car whipping around to give some sense of normalcy as if they had not all been cooing over them.

“Oh.” Jon sprang away from him. “Sorry, sorry, did I crush you?”

“I’m not as weak as you innately believe me to be.” Damian grumbled, ears flushed pink as he looked out the window, their hands still resting together. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“oKay, on that note, we’ve arrived. Please disembark from the vehicle in an orderly fashion, and do not slam any of the doors or you will have a very unpleasant return.” Roy got out first, opening the driver’s seat door for a very pleased looking Jason.

They clambered over each other to get out, sighing dramatically as they all stepped out. “Freedom!” Colin shouted, jumping up and down a few times.

“My legs went numb.” Akira muttered, holding onto the side of the car. Skylar patted their arm sympathetically, backpack jangling.

“This is pretty big.” Maya looked at the surrounding farmland appreciatively. “How much of this is your folks?” 

“Bit farther down, I'll take you by the boundary line sometime, there’s a nice little place me ‘n Jon would go play as kids.” Kathy pointed to a place in the unseeable distance, coming a bit closer to her.

“That sounds nice.” Maya said, trailing off into a silence until Jon came running out of the car and slinging an arm around Kathy’s neck.

“Ooh, i have missed this place. Our treehouse still up?” 

“All of our hideouts are alive and kickin’.” Kathy said, “You should take your boy down to one of them sometime.”

Jon looked around, before dipping his head down and mumbling, “Not my boy.”

“Not yet .” Kathy poked him in the stomach, and as he doubled over, ruffled his hair, dashing off with a laugh.

“HEY!” He took off after her, the two of them laughing. Damian came up besides Maya, watching them chase each other.

“You know, I don't think I've really seen him act like this.” Maya remarked. Damian only smiled, mind flooding with flicks of moments and the sound of childlike laughter.

“It’s not something he had much reason to be like, I suppose.”

“It’s cute.” She nudged him. “Puppy-like.You like puppies, don’t you?”

“It is… endearing. ” The last part was much quieter. “It feels wrong. But right, at the same time. The feeling is…new, yet curious. And not entirely unpleasant.”

“You two will figure it out.” Maya smiled, pushing his shoulder a bit. “I’m gonna go and get ready, we’re going out to the fair today.”

“Okay.” He brushed his hair back, watching his small group of friends, eyes trailing after Jon’s form, his laughter keeping the soft smile on his lips. 

“You know, I think we have a history of this kind of thing.” A voice came from behind him, wiping the smile off of his face in place of a scowl. 

Jason came up behind him, Roy playfully putting the hat he was wearing onto Damian's head. 

Stupid older brothers.

“So I heard.” Damian drawled, turning to look pointedly at the both of them. “Tutoring, boy on the wrong path and a nerd. Except I was just better, not a nerd.”

“Fuck you, i was a cool nerd.” Jason crossed his arms. “Had an A in P.E. and everything.”

“You were also a scrawny little shit who carried books everywhere, had glasses for a short amount of time and could quote Jane Austen at the drop of a hat.” Roy set his chin on Jason’s shoulder. “Sorry, babe.”

“Well, you married this nerd.” Jason sniffed, before turning to Damian. “ You were like four, you can't tell me shit.”

Damian scowled. “You’ve simply come along to antagonize me, haven’t you?”

“That, to intimidate your friends and future boyfriend, and because ask yourself, would any of them have been any better?”

“Richard would have.” 

“Dickhead and Wallance would have played showtunes the whole time, been sickeningly in love, and would have shown all of your baby pictures and embarrassing stories within the first five minutes of the drive, especially if he saw you and Jon.”

“Whatever.” He huffed. “Will you both be escorting us to the fairgrounds?”

“Yeah, and we’re leaving in thirty minutes, so change if you want to, baby bat.” Jason took the hat off and ruffled his hair, causing Damian to squawk and swat at him, before glaring at them both and leaving.

They all met back up in front of the car, dressed in a new pair of clothes and eager. It was about 12:30 by the time that they managed to make it to the grounds, seeing as they’d left early in the morning.

“Okay, ground rules before I unlock this car.” Jason and Roy turned around, and everyone but Damian snapped to attention. 

“You have our numbers, I have yours, and if all else fails, you have a Damian. I don’t expect you to actually stay with us, but please try to stick together, if not a buddy system or something. Try not to get banned, maimed, or sick within the first four hours.”

He turned off the car and grinned. “Oh yeah, and have fun.”

That startled a cheer from them, and the doors unlocked, everyone filing out of the car. They elected to stick together as one big group until they found something that would separate them, Jason and Roy following behind before stopping at a concession stand and losing sight of them.

“Okay, so Colin, Kathy and I are gonna go check out the roller coasters,” Maya said. “Akira and Skylar are at the booths and Damian and Jon…”

“Are playing the games.” Jon finished.

“And I’m going to kick your ass, Kent.” Damian smirked.

“I’d like to see you try.” Jon shot back. Colin and Akira mimed gagging, the other three rolling their eyes.

“Take your weird flirting away from here, go, shoo.” Kathy pushed them away, both boys flushing as her words caught up to them.

As they left, their hands swung between them, just barely touching. They all shared a looked, the thought of absolutely hopeless running through their minds.

“I can't take this anymore.” Maya sighed. “I give, what time are those fireworks?”

This was driving them both insane . Jon glanced down, Damian’s hand brushing up against his for the millionth time. He wanted to reach out and grab it, but how would the other react?

He’d done it before, but now it felt different . He wasn’t leading him anywhere, and he wasn't gonna do the platonic hand holding thing he and Kathy had researched in middle school.

His eye caught on a shooting game, and grinned. There we go, he could challenge Damian, they’d chill, and bam, awkwardness diffused. 

“Hey, D, betcha I can get a higher score.” He pointed to the game, watching as Damian’s gaze went directly to the plush puppy hanging on the side of the booth.

Perfect.

“You’re on, Kent.” 

They raced to the game, slapping down their payment. The worker at the booth seemed rather amused by their playfulness, starting up the game.

“What the hell?” Jon squeaked as Damian began shooting with an insane accuracy, looking over to the side to grin, still getting the target.

“This is unfair !” He pouted. Plan foiled . 

“Tough luck, J.” Damian pointed to the plush he wanted, shoving it at Jon. “Carry. Let’s go find another thing for me to kick your ass at.”

He huffed, accepting it anyways. The booth worker laughed, shaking their head. “Wow, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you’re whipped.”

Jon sighed wistfully. “If only he knew that, too.”

He chased after Damian, the both of them challenging each other to various games. Jon managed to win a small kitten, presenting it to Damian, who looked away laughing.

“I’ve already won several, Jon. I don’t think you should add more.”

“You should win something for me, then.” He said, half playing. “Then you'll have less.”

“Okay.” Damian looked surprisingly serious, taking his hand and pulling him down the aisle. “Your wish is my command, my Prince.”

Jon flushed at the sincerity, giddy at the hand-holding. “Would this make you my Knight?”

“I suppose I would.” 

“Then, onwards, brave Knight, and pick your prince the most delightful of plushes.”

After a few minutes, Jon had a white puppy plush that he affectionately named Krypto. They fell back into the silence, dropping off the rest of the plushies at the car, before looking at the sky.

“It’s sunset. The fireworks will be starting soon. We should probably find the others.” Jon said, the puppy plush still under one arm. The kitten he’d won for Damian was peeking out of the bag the other boy had over one shoulder.

“Probably.” Damian threaded his fingers with Jon’s, swinging them idly between them. It had seemed completely natural, and suddenly, something clicked.

He needed to do something about this, and he needed to do something about it now. It was terrifying, the very thought, but if he really thought about it, nothing they’d done for weeks, months by now, really qualified as strictly platonic. 

Damian was blunt, unclear with his emotions, and a jumbled mess on the inside of his cool, put together and prickly persona. 

He could do this. Anxiety would not best him.

They met up in front of a picnic bench by the ferris wheel, the sun dipping deeper and the dark night coming to overtake it.

“All of you gremlins accounted for?” Roy asked, Jason besides him as they shared cotton candy.

“Yes sir!” Akira and Skylar had a large bag of kettle corn between them, Colin sneaking handfuls every few minutes.

“You guys empty every booth or what?” Maya grinned, Kathy poking her in the side to subtly motion to their intertwined hands.

“Dami here kicked my ass in almost everything.” Jon grumbled.

“Could have warned you against that.” Jason grinned, also taking note. “Anything interesting happen? Life changing developments we should know?”

“No.” Damian scowled, following his gaze and attempting to hide their joined hands. “What are we doing now?”

“Well, I think the ferris wheel is still open. We could catch that before the fireworks begin,” Colin began, everyone catching on.

“Yeah, sounds like fun!”

“You two should go ahead of us,” 

Damian and Jon were ushered onto a cart, and strapped in before they could say anything, being shot thumbs up and teasing grins. 

“What the hell?” Jon squawked as they were lifted into the air. “Jesus Christ, you swear the world was going to end if we didn’t get on this thing.”

“We’re friends with imbeciles.”

“Oh, have I been elevated to not-an-imbecile?” 

“Ugh.”

Damian shoved him playfully, and the silence settled in. Suddenly, they were much more aware of the atmosphere, high up on a creaky metal wheel, spinning them into the darkening night sky.

“The stars are nice. You can’t see them this clearly from the city.” He said quietly. Their hands found each other again, and tentatively, Jon leaned his head on Damian’s shoulder. 

“I’ll bring you down here again, we can go stargazing and you can tell me your smart people stuff.”

“It’s basic astronomy, Jon.”

“There are a bunch of things that I don't have the patience to memorize.”

Damian laughed, resting his head on Jon’s. “Hey, Dami?”

Jon’s voice came in a shaky whisper, his hand growing clammy. This had been building all day, and Jon was sure he’d explode if he didn’t say something soon.

“Yeah?”

“Gotta tell you something.”

Damian lifted his head up, and bit his lip. “I have something to say to you as well.”

“You can go first.” Jon squeaked, looking down and suddenly finding the railing of the cart extremely fascinating.

“Wouldn’t you prefer to go?” the pitch of Damian’s voice began rising and he coughed, willing it back down. “You began, of course.” 

Shit.

“Ah, um, okay.” Jon breathed in. “So, we’re like, friends, right? And uh, gonna be real, at first, I don’t think we like each other much? Well, i mean, i definitely liked you, or like, the look of you which explains a lot when we think about cause holy shit i was a douche-”

Damian’s quiet laughter startled him from his ramblings, and with pink cheeks he looked up, seeing the light of the ride shine on his face, ears tinged pink. 

“You are…very cute.” 

Jon made a noise that in any other situation, would have severely wounded his pride, but right now the words were playing on repeat in his mind. 

“That-that’s not fair!” He whined, taking his hand from Damian’s to use both to cover his burning face. “You can’t do this to me!”

“I think I can.” Damian whispered into his ear. “Might I pick up where you left off?”

Jon only nodded, still hiding his face in his hands. Damian shook his head, just slightly, and shut his eyes. 

Okay. Don’t chicken out, Wayne. You’ve been waiting. You can do this.

“Hm. You were correct, with your earlier statements. We did not like each other very much. But we’re friends now, and every new thing that I find out about you draws me closer. A bit back, I believe that my affections may have begun to stretch a bit further than, say, strictly platonic.”

He paused, exhaling and attempting to quell his thoughts in a way that made sense. Jon lifted his face from his hands, eyes wide and hopeful.

Jon was dreaming, right? Was this some kind of dream?

"Judging by your poorly thought out speech, I was wondering if you might return the sentiments. Of course, it's perfectly acceptable if you don’t, i do not wish to force you into something or make you feel obligated-"

He was the one rambling now, but for the love of all that was holy, Damian could not shut himself up . He had one hand rubbing the back of his neck, the other still resting in his lap. The ride came to a stop at that moment, a whistling noise signaling the start of the fireworks began sounding. They were at the top, swinging a bit.

Jon grabbed his free hand, giving an affectionate, “Damian, shut up .”

Damian clicked his jaw shut and Jon cupped his face with his other hand. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Okay.” he whispered, shutting his eyes. Their lips met as the night sky burst into an array of color, hand in hand. Damian’s arm went around Jon’s neck, and his hand dropped to the smaller boy’s waist, bringing them closer together.

It was clearly inexperienced, but as they broke apart, stupid grins on their faces, that couldn’t have mattered more.

Jon leaned down, forehead resting on Damian’s, the sky still exploding behind them as the wheel cracked, signaling their movement.

“If that wasn’t clear, I really like you.”

“I ‘really like’ you too.” Damian hesitantly leaned up, pressing his lips to Jon’s again in a chaste kiss, pulling away and covering his mouth, quiet laughter escaping him.

Jon caught it, pulling it away from his face and into his own. “I keep telling you to stop doing that; it’s adorable and you shouldn’t hide it.”

Damian huffed, looking away but squeezing his hand gently. They got off the ride, walking towards the hill where the rest of their friends and Damian’s family were seated, gasping over the fireworks. They came up behind them, quiet enough not to disturb them. Jason noticed them, however, sending a subtle wink and smirk their way.

They were all seated under a tree, and Jon leaned against it, sitting down and opening his arms. Domain leaned back against his chest, Jon’s folded hands resting on Damian's stomach as the show went on. 

Once it began winding down, the others took notice of their presence, and their positioning. Upon asking the question, Damian pulled Jon down by the collar of his tshirt and kissed him, letting go just as quick. 

A cheer came up between all of them, whoops and jeers being thrown playfully at them. “Operation Damijon is a success!” 

The two chose to ignore that last statement, settling into each other. They had their friends, each other, and a blossoming relationship.

Really, what more could they ask for?

[tabl3]

beginning of a oneshot i'm writing

Oliver let out a blood-curdling shriek. 

The projectile was zipping at his head, at least eighty miles per hour. 

He ducked to avoid it, feeling it sail so close that it grazed his scalp.

“Chase, look out!” Kaz shouted. 

Chase had just entered from the rooftop door, flipping through a book. He snapped up as the volleyball came flying toward him.

It screeched to a halt a centimeter from the tip of his nose, floating there.

Chase nodded to his left, making it shoot back over the net and land on the girls’ side before even Bree could stop it.

“HAH!” Kaz pointed two fingers at Bree and Skylar. “Point!”

“Your first,” Skylar teased, catching the ball when Bree, miffed, tossed it to her. It was a sunny afternoon, bordering on too warm, but with a nice breeze to cut through the heat. Four of the five Elite Force members had decided to go up on the roof, set up the volleyball set that Bree had purchased from a sketchy website a few months ago, and waste the day. Due to their packaged deal philosophy, Kaz and Oliver had chosen each other as a team. What fools they had been. Bree was a devil. A beast. A monster. Evil. Skylar wasn’t much better. The boys were up to forty-nine misses in the half-hour they’d been up there.

Chase rolled his eyes fondly. “Have you guys eaten lately?”

Four nods. 

“Okay, good,” he waved his hand, bringing a package of water bottles from the alcove. One was thrown to each person. The girls caught theirs. Oliver again ducked under his. Kaz’s smacked him in the face. “Oliver, Kaz, watch the temperature. Don’t overheat.”

“Yes, Mom,” they echoed.

“Bree, Skylar, go a little,” he pinched his fingers together. “Easy on them.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chase put his hands on his hips. “Don’t come crying to me when you get too tired to celebrate tonight.”

“What are we celebrating again?” Skylar asked, resting her elbow on her girlfriend’s head.

“Only one of the best holidays ever!” Kaz exclaimed, springing to his feet.

“Yeah!” Oliver backed him up. “Watermelon, fireworks, random cold salads, barbecues!”

“I make some bomb ass bbq, girl,” Kaz bragged, puffing out his chest. He’d already spent the previous evening making far too many sides for five people, which of course caused the kitchen to explode. It took Chase and Oliver hours to clean, because Bree was conveniently gone and Kaz dragged Skylar into their room for whatever reason. No one knew why he did anything, generally speaking.

“It’s the way neither of them answered my question,” Skylar deadpanned with a snort. 

“Yeah, they do that,” Chase observed. He folded his arms, lightly smiling. “It’s the Fourth of July.”

“And?” Skylar blinked.

“Big party. Celebrating the country,” Chase toed a loose piece of gravel. “Frankly, I never understood why.”

Kaz gasped as though Chase just admitted he was cheating on him, slapping a hand to his chest. 

“Hot dogs! Ice cream! Sparklers!” he listed, dramatically counting on his fingers. Chase snorted, shoving his face away.

“Fireflies! Picnic blankets!” Oliver chimed in. “Sparklers! Watermelon!”

“You already said that, buddy.”

“Oh, did I?”

“Yep.”

“Well, it deserves it.”

“True.”

“Anyway,” Bree cleared her throat. “We don’t really have to celebrate it.”

Kaz gasped again, as though she had just admitted that Chase was cheating on him. 

“You don’t have to do that every time.”

“Guys!” he threw his hands up. “It’s literally the most nostalgic thing ever! Do you have no shame?”

“I guess fireworks looked nice from the TV in our basement lab,” Bree said sarcastically.

“Around Earth’s summer we had a gladiator tournament to purge the weak from our forces on Caldera,” Skylar offered.

Silence. A bird squawked.

“Jeez,” Kaz smacked his lips. “I forget how fucked your childhoods were.”

“Whatever the case, I need to get back to work,” Chase turned with a wave. “Have fun.”

“NOOOOO!” 

He was halted.

“...What the hell?”

“Babe, you gotta rescue us!” Kaz cried, holding onto his ankle and laying on the roof like a kid being dragged out of a toy store. “We’re getting smoked!”

“Pleaseee!” Oliver begged, gripping his other. “We need you.”

Chase stared at them incredulously.

Skylar and Bree covered their mouths to hide their giggles.

“How old are you two again?”

“69,” Kaz replied before Chase finished the last syllable. 

“It’s funny every time.”

“Thanks.”

[adelaidedrubman]

god it’s really fucking wednesday

i was tagged by dearest @deputyash to share a wip on this day! sending tags out to @henbased @florbelles @unholymilf @shallow-gravy @v0idbuggy @corvosattano @roofgeese @jackiesarch @confidentandgood @poetikat @derelictheretic @afarcryfrommymain @cassietrn @nightbloodbix @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @voidika @firstaidspray @megraen @inafieldofdaisies @blissfulalchemist @strangefable @clicheantagonist @nuclearstorms and anyone else who wants to share!

yeah it’s obviously hook, line, and sinker chapter 3. please enjoy jestiny having a very brief flicker of moral clarity and john getting his pretty woman moment. (don’t litter kids. or stalk and harass your exes.)

“I fucking heard that!” she leaned over the side of the boat to screech, crumpling the styrofoam of the bait cup in her fist and attempting to fling the trash across the distance to Skylar and Sherri — torn bits floating down to scatter impotently along the surface of the water instead. 

“Jesus, Jessie, a fish is gonna fucking choke on that,” Skylar cried, pushing herself up from her lounge chair. 

“And maybe I can’t stop you from driving a boat on public waters, but you can’t litter on my damn property,” Sherri agreed, reaching behind her to pull a net from the pouch on the back of her own chair and toss to Skylar. “That shit drifts to shore.”

Jessie crossed her arms over her chest with a huff, rolling eyes dismissively to duck Skylar and Sherri’s judgmental glares with an earnest wave of shame — she didn’t mean to endanger any poor fish, obviously, she was just angry — instead finding John’s gaze, oddly comforted by the quiet, embarrassed fury she saw simmering back at her, as if the bright blue glitter of his eyes was a tempestuous pool to reflect her own angry humiliation, unfiltered and undiluted in their vibrant heat. 

Then something in his stare sharpened, an almost imperceptible narrowing of the pinpoints of his pupils into focus, gaining all the ice-cold clarity of a glacial pond as he darted his eyes back to where Skylar reached forward to dip the mesh of her net into the water to scoop up the ripped up bits of styrofoam. 

“Hi,” John hummed pleasantly as he stepped up to Skylar, placing a hand atop the handle of her net. “John Seed. Do you remember me?” 

“The fuck you —” 

He slid his hand down the pole of the net, pulling it closer until his fist was circled just beneath the base of its bag. “I tried to buy bait from you a few moments ago. You refused to sell to me.” 

“...Yeah?”

“Big mistake,” he barked with a tug of the net to cause Skylar to stumble slightly, barely catching herself to remain upright. “Big. Huge!” He forced a manic laugh, snatching the net from her hands. “Because perhaps had I been occupied with my own fishing, I wouldn’t have time now to ask if you have a proper permit to fish with a net.” 

Sherri stood, moving to stand between John and Skylar, defensively. 

“I do my business selling fishing licenses, dumbass,” Sherri grumbled, pulling two crumpled pieces of paper from her back pocket to flash. “You really think I’d come out here without one?”

“Ah.” John clicked his tongue against his teeth twice, wagging his finger and tapping it against the paper Sherri held out. “But I’d like to see your netting license,” he said in sing-song. “Class A resident fishing licenses only allow fishing with a hook and line. Netting requires its own permit.” 

Sherri and Skylar exchanged confused looks. 

“Ha!” Jestiny let out a single, choppy laugh as she hopped over the side of the boat, splashing mud as she landed. “It does.”

It did, when it came to hoop nets. But of course even if he knew the law he wouldn’t know the difference between —

He waved a hand in front of his face, then rested it atop his chest. “Oh, I’m only joking, of course,” he said with a smile, bowing his head. “Montana Code Title 87, Chapter 6, Part 5 Fishing Offenses includes an exception in paragraph (1)(a)(iv) for landing nets.”

Jestiny felt a giddy heat blossom along her cheeks — he knew the difference between a hoop net and a landing net. He’d actually studied up. 

Skylar placed a hand atop her hip. “We weren’t even fishing with that net,” she said matter-of-factly. “We were just cleaning up the trash your girlfriend threw in the water.”

He cocked an eyebrow, smile widening. “For after the fish has been hooked as specified in subsection (1)(a).”  He nodded down towards their rods. “And your hooks appear to be bare.”

“That’s not what I saw,” Jessie chirped, throwing her arm around John’s waist and pulling him to her. “And I think the word of two officers of the court is gonna outweigh what y’all say.” Jessie leaned forward, snarling. “I think it certainly gives me probable fucking cause to seize all this shit as fuckin’ evidence of a crime, including the fucking bait,” she snapped. “I think it could mean y’all both forfeiting your fucking fishing licenses as penalty, if this shit gets dragged into court.”

“Good fucking God, Jessie,” Sherri huffed, swiping the can of worms from off the ground and shoving it in Jessie’s hands. “Here. Take the damn bait, since it means that fucking much to you. You win. We’re leaving.”

[endahouselikecarpet]

Maggie, Private Eye

Ch.9, In Front of the Office

[Nothing really to tag. There's an argument, but it's a bit silly]

I walked to the front of the house, deciding where I wanted to try to look. Then, I saw it- the person I wanted to talk to and looking rather tense compared to how he looked elsewhere.

Dorian- specifically in front of the office.

“Dorian.” I announced myself.

“Maggie.” He replied curtly.

We both stood there, sizing each other up; him knowing that he could easily take me down, but also knowing that wouldn’t stop me from trying to get answers from him.

“Know what you’re lookin’ for, luv. I got nothin’ to say to you.” Dorian was firm, unwavering in his convictions.

I knew that under that hard exterior was a gentle soul. So, my next play was to appeal to that. “Listen, you’ve got your job to do, and I get that. But, I also got mine; and, mine is to make sure the Owner is safe and that a sweet bed can sleep soundly knowing that.”

He smirked at the attempt, brushing me off without a word. That silence told me plenty though.

“Something you don’t want me to see in there?” I asked.

Once again there was no answer, not verbally. The way he glowered and clenched his jaw confirmed it for me though.

“Listen,” I was getting tired of being sent through the wringer by everyone at this point, “we have to-“

Before I could finish what I was saying, there was a sound of rushing footsteps coming our direction. A rush of people from all directions, all asking questions to Dorian and myself alike, pounced like a cat with yeast products. The buzz was too much to hear all that was being asked by any of them.

“WAIT!” I called over all the noise.

“Nice voice projection.” Luke complimented from the middle of the crowd.

“Thank you,” I couldn’t hide the exasperation in my voice, “but what exactly are you all doing here?”

“A dear, anonymous, Luxxie let us know you were heading over here! And, seeing as everywhere else was searched, our missing friend has to be in there.” Lux explained, holding their phone so they could get the best angle of what was going on. I saw a familiar, frilly handkerchief wave over the crowd to taunt me. Should have known it was him. I must have really upset him earlier.

Soon, a familiar, towering, cross trainer came shoving his way through the crowd. “We’ve been searching da whole night, and you knew where they were da whole, damn time!” Kristof boomed.

“Listen, blondie! I don’t have to tell you shit!” Dorian spat; I was barely able to move out of the way before they were practically chest to chest, squaring up their shoulders to intimidate the other.

“Gawd, that’s hot!”

“Lux!” Skylar scolded from where she was.

“Sorry-not-sorry,” they sassed back.

“Look, can we all just take a few steps back a moment.” Volt managed to get through the crowd and separate Dorian and Kristof, “Acting hotheaded won’t end well, as I was recently reminded.” He muttered that last part shamefully.

“Oh, you would know that, wouldn’t you?” Dorian scoffed.

“That was a low blow, friend.” Volt answered coldly.

Phoenicia turned to Eddie who was a few people away from her, “Hey, shouldn’t you get your boyfriend under control?” She questioned concernedly.

“If I could I would have done it a long time ago.” Eddie shrugged.

There was suddenly a high pitched screech cut through the door behind the bouncer that caused everyone to freeze.

“Was that a fuckin’ scream?” Clarence questioned from his spot on the stairs.

“No.” Dorian answered flatly.

“Then what was it?!” Beverly asked, looking panicked.

“Not a bloody scream!” Dorian snapped.

Just as things seemed like they were boiling over, someone pulled me out of the crowd and back toward the living room.

“Hey, there!” Freddy greeted as he carried me away; how the largest person in the house was able to sneak up on me like that was a mystery by itself. Before I had time to go down that yeti trail, I was informed of our destination. “There’s someone that wants to talk to you away from everyone else.”

[starsspcrud]

I sketched. :)

Kenny/Martyred Angel burning his halo after tearing it off

Follower!Butters screeching. See? I wasn't wrong when I said they had rows of sharp teeth.

Experiment II drinking from a blood pouch. It's probably Type AB blood.

Butters, Heidi and Clyde. They're based on the deaths in Sally.EXE.

Infected Skylar. It's a Bubbaruka reference. Of what? Go play the game yourself. It's the central focus of Chapter 3.

[melted-mercury]

@skylar-jay @danelloevee @amongussexgif @screeching-incoherently @pls--be--quiet @pandazenie27 @mothicalspoken @atleasttheyvegotstars @morbid-perception @wistfulmistful @1mothman @tommysock @salamie-baby

GET KOSA TRENDING.

STOP SCROLLING NOW!

AS OF FEBRUARY 21ST, 2024, WE GOT FIVE DAYS UNTIL THE DAY OF DECISION OF THE KOSA BILL, WHICH WILL CAUSE MASS CENSORSHIP ROUND THE INTERNET IF PASSED. OR DOOMSDAY. WE NEED EVERYONE TO KNOW ABOUT THIS AND CONTRIBUTE. I'M NOT GIVING UP ON YOU ALL.

WE'RE DOWN TO THE WIRE BUT WE CAN'T GIVE UP YET. IF WE GIVE UP, EVERYTHING IS OVER. IF WE DON'T, AT LEAST WE HAVE A CHANCE.

I'M THE ONE WHO SOUNDED THE ALARM, AND I'M NOT GOING TO CURL UP AND DIE YET.

Reblog this post in every LEGAL way you can under the Tumblr guidelines with the appropriate tags. TELL AND TAG EVERYONE YOU KNOW, then add the tags to see below... and more if you can think of any complying.

Visit badinternetbills.com if you want to find a way to defeat KOSA. It WILL NOT take much of your time. Reblog with any other information or sources, too-- but make sure to reblog if you can.

Reblog if you support lgbtq+ content.

Reblog if you support questioning queer youth and/or abused youth getting the information they need.

Reblog if you support Ao3 and/or other sites that wholeheartedly preserve talentedly made media.

Reblog if you're going to repost this on other sites than Tumblr and spread the word across Twitter, Tik Tok, Pinterest, or elsewhere, alongside the link to badinternetbills.com.

Reblog if you think KOSA is unfair and shouldn't be anyone's problem -- including the adults ALL OVER THE DAMN EARTH forced to face the mass censorship it causes because "think of the American Children!".

Reblog if you support internet activism and Palestine.

Reblog if you hate fascism or censorship, and don't want actually serious and helpful conversations censored on the internet.

Reblog if you value the internet in any way at all whatsoever.

We won't let this stand any longer. Let's start a riot and get this trending.

[my-tatteredwingsof-freedom]

I know that probably wasn't the intention of the scene, and it was never in the books from what I can remember, but there was something in the way Daniel's entire face changed when Louis asked, "Do you want to now?" Daniel is a man who has been through marriages and divorces, who knows the pain of loving and never being enough, of ruining things and accepting being alone. He's an old man, as he says several times. He's an old man and he's comfortable alone and he doesn't expect anyone to want him like that at this point in his life...but then Louis makes the offer and Daniel's face changes. The face of an old man that is suddenly faced with the fact that he can be wanted. He can be desired. He can still have sex with this gorgeous vampire like he thought he did all these years ago and I think for a second, it scares him to know that there's still so much life he can live.

Again, I know that most likely wasn't the intention of the scene but Daniel, especially in the show, is so dear to me that I couldn't help but wonder if there was something to the way his face changed like that.

[irlkisukeurahara]

Pokémon Unown Legends Tale - Free Snippet Teaser... Professor Hop vs Champion Skylar

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hop grabbed a pokéball from his lap, grazing his finger over the embossing. He then tossed out the pokéball in front of him, revealing a Crobat with a prosthetic wing. Skylar grabbed a painted pokéball from her belt, painted a light blue and an off-white blue, with stripes on the side and a diamond on the top. She tossed out the Pokémon, revealing a Pokémon Hop didn't recognize. His eyebrows instantly raised, practically to his hairline.

“Woah!” Leon was taken aback by the Pokémon he saw. It had the face of a Purrugly but was lean and muscular instead of fat. It had light blue fur, accented with pale blue markings. Its front legs had two stripes on the side, and all four of its paws were a pale off-white blue color. It had a diamond shape on its thighs, and had a giant brown curly tail that wrapped around its neck like a scarf, with a pale blue moon on the end. It also had saber tooth fangs. “What is that?”

“Furroarst,” Kazarah grinned, crossing her arms. “A Pokémon from an unexplored region. It's an ice-type evolution of Purugly!”

“Holy shite,” Hop muttered to himself, just staring in fascination.

“I can see the Purugly on its face…” Leon chuckled a little, and Furroarst glanced at him, seeming annoyed, unable to tell if that was meant to be an insult or not. Leon leaned away, nervously chuckling.

“My daughter and I have several Pokémon on our team that I bet you've never seen before!” Kazarah gloated.

“Mom!” Skylar scolded, “You're distracting me.” She said with a slight hostility. As she looked back to the battlefield, without any warning, a Heat Wave was slammed up against Furroarst's face. “Frost!” She shouted, startled. She looked up from her Pokémon, at Hop and his Crobat. “Did he attack while they were talking..?” She muttered to herself, “But I didn't hear him call out a move…” Hop started laughing. He tapped both of his feet on the ground and held four fingers in front of his face. Crobat suddenly used Nasty Plot. It all made sense now… “You're commanding your Pokémon with motions!”

“It always leaves t'em wonderin' what's next.” Hop had a malicious grin on his face. “You can't afford to stop payin' attention! This is a battle!”

Skylar shook her head, slapping herself in the face to get her head in the game, “Use Hail, then Ice Fang!” She pointed at the Crobat. Furroarst ran at the Crobat at high speeds, catching the Pokémon off guard. He raised his prosthetic wing as a shield, and Furroarst bit down hard on it. The wing was damaged, and the Crobat seemed to screech in pain.

“Bucky!” Hop shouted. He raised his open palm in the air, grabbing a piece of the hail in his hand. He crushed it in his hand, “Fly strong and destroy t'is feckin' cat!” He yelled with almost a snarl in his voice. He tossed the hail in front of him, clapping and snapping his fingers. At point-blank range, Bucky released a Heat Wave at the cat Pokémon. Furroarst screeched, headbutting Bucky and hopping backward. Its long brown tail fell from its neck, its fur flayed. Furroarst hissed, shaking its tail back and forth before sweeping it back around its neck. Hop stared in stunned awe. “I've used two Nasty Plots…and have attacked with Heat Wave twice…” he started to chuckle, “Yet that cat still stands! That's impressive, unbelievable! I t'ought my Dubwool disobeyed the laws of physics…But this!” He laughed, “THIS! Ohoho, I'd have to get my hands on one of those feckers.”

“My Pokémon are incredibly hardy! They don't tend to go down after less than three hits.” She bragged, “Ice Fang!” Furroarst ran at Bucky again, managing to bite his body instead of just his wing. Hop's eye twitched, annoyed by Skylar's brag.

“What kind'a nonsense is t’at? Ya gonna magically survive an OH-KO move just cause of t'e magic of friendship and plot armor?” Hop grumbled sarcastically.

“I didn't mean it like that,” Skylar chuckled a little, with a hint of nervousness. “It's just a statistic based on my battles over the years.” Hop yawned.

“Look at ya. Tryin' to use the word statistic to try to appeal more to t'e scientist in me, ey?” He leaned forward, “No way you phrase it is gonna make me give any more of a shite about your braggin'!” He clapped his hands and snapped fingers once more, Bucky sending another Heat Wave at Furroarst.

[tabl3]

a silly thing that may or may not be canon. summary and chapter below :)

Chase and Bree NEVER get sick. Their creator ensured that. Their bodies are far superior to any regular human, immune systems included. Skylar is even less likely to be ill, with her near-invulnerability to everything- especially human viruses.

That goes really well, especially when the Mission Alert goes off.

Kaz and Oliver struggle exponentially to be good at hero-ing without their much more experienced, much stronger friends

--

"I'm n-not sick."

"Well then, I'm the queen of England," Kaz rolled his eyes.

Chase sneezed. "It's allergies," he sniffled. "Bionic people don't get s-sick."

"Light of my life, you have a 117-degree fever," Kaz sighed, bending over to brush Chase's sweaty bangs from his face, showing him the thermometer. Chase was currently shivering under Kaz's covers, with sunken red eyes and a stopped nose, sounding like he swallowed two tons of broken glass—the works. With how high his fever was, he’d probably be dead if not for his elevated immune system.

"No, I don't," Chase whined.

Kaz groaned. "Babe, why does your stubbornness get even higher when you're ill?"

"I-I'm not ill!"

"Yeesh, is he still going?" Oliver entered the room with some cough drops, wearing an entire gas mask—Kaz’s from his mission suit.

Kaz stared at him.

"What? I'm not catching whatever he has."

Chase whimpered, shifting uncomfortably under the blankets.

Kaz exhaled, massaging Chase's scalp. He didn't like this. His chest was tight. 

Oliver took the hint, leaving them alone after placing the cough drops on the nightstand with a pair of tongs. He nearly tripped on one of Kaz's junk piles on his way out, trying to see through his oversized mask.

"Baby, please," Kaz sighed. "It's okay to be sick. It's okay to be taken care of. It's okay to feel like shit, and say you feel like shit. This has been going on for three days now. You’re staying in bed."

Chase leaned into the touch. 

"What can I do for you?" 

Chase hesitated. "...I’m… a little hungry…?"

"Good start," Kaz smiled. He leaned down to peck Chase's lips. Chase put his hands over Kaz’s mouth. 

"Nope. If I was hypothetically sick, you aren't spreading it."

Kaz relinquished, kissing his forehead instead. 

~*~

“Jeez, man,” Kaz sighed, rubbing his neck. Oliver was hunched over the sink, vigorously washing his hands despite the fact that he had been wearing huge dish gloves in their room.

“Hey now,” Oliver cut him off. “You know I get sick easily.” 

Kaz came up next to him, setting his chin on his shoulder as Oliver tossed said gloves into their cabinet under the sink.

Oliver looked at him quizzically. His first mistake was disregarding suspicion.

Kaz innocently coughed, directly into his face.

He cackled when Oliver screeched loud enough to shatter the cups sitting in the sink that were waiting to be washed. Oliver flew up an inch, zipping away from Kaz. Kaz followed him, periodically faking sneezes and coughs as Oliver tried desperately to evade him. Hey, as his pseudo-brother, this was Kaz’s duty. 

The front door slid open.

“...Okay then.” Bree shrugged.

“Hi, guys,” Kaz waggled his fingers at the girls, chasing Oliver in circles around their living room ceiling.

“Hey,” Skylar was unphased, setting down Bree’s many shopping bags on the couch. “For you,” she gestured. Bree smiled, standing on her toes to kiss her cheek. Skylar tilted her head, smiling back. “You wanted them upstairs?” Bree nodded. “Thought so,” Skylar snickered, hoisting the spoils of Bree’s war on the mall back up.  

“Kaz, why are you bullying him?” Bree pointed at Oliver. 

“Just because your boyfriend is on his deathbed,” Oliver paused to pant, holding his knees midair. “Does not mean you take it out on me!” Kaz smirked threateningly. Oliver hid behind Skylar.

“Wh- Chase! Ugh, I told him he was sick,” Bree rolled her eyes, placing one hand on her hip. 

“Okay, but when does he ever listen to you?” Kaz returned.

“Truer words.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be feeding him?” Oliver poked out, keeping his hands firmly on Skylar’s shoulders to make her a barrier.

“I got soup broth in the freezer,” Kaz raised his eyebrows. “And all the time in the world. For this.”

He launched toward Oliver. Oliver screamed, flying around Skylar while Kaz followed in a blur of limbs. Skylar rolled her eyes, balancing the bags under her arms to protect them from wobbling. She shot out both hands, snatching Kaz by the forehead and Oliver by the shirt collar. “If you break my girlfriend’s stuff, I break you.”

“Yes ma’am,” the boys said in sync. 

Skylar chuckled, dropping them on the couch. She harshly ruffled their hair, offering her hand to Bree to walk upstairs.

Kaz stuck his tongue out at Oliver. Oliver returned it.

~*~

“Why are you drinking from Chase’s mug?” Kaz asked that evening, coming up behind Bree who was reading a magazine on the couch and sipping hot chocolate.

“What are you talking about?” she wrinkled her nose.

“No, it has a little chip on the handle,” Kaz shook his head. Bree stared at him. He gestured for her to check. After studying the handle, the smallest chip was indeed present. “He almost knocked it off his desk while working on the cybercloaks.”

“How do you know these things?” Oliver craned his neck to see, sitting a cushion away with a book in his lap. 

“Get a date and we’ll talk,” Kaz retorted.

“Well, there weren’t any clean ones,” Bree complained. “This was beside the dishrack, so I thought-”

“He sets it there when he’s working,” Skylar noted, poking into the living area from where she was filling up the dishwasher. It was usually Chase’s self-appointed job, which made it feel weird that the kitchen wasn’t spick and span as usual. “Been there for days.”

“How do you know these things?” Oliver asked her. 

“Because he’s actually in love with me, duh.”

Kaz shot her a faux-angry look. She blew him a kiss.

“Ew,” Bree hurriedly set the mug down, shaking her hands off to rid herself of the knowledge that she used his dirty mug. “Gross, gross, gross-”

“That’s unfortunate,” Kaz tried to act sympathetic, fighting off his laugh. 

“Shut up,” she glared.

~*~

“I think I’m sick,” Bree sniffed. “My stupid brother infected me with his stupid germs and gave me his stupid cold. Stupid.” 

“You don’t say,” Skylar sat up in bed, pushing Bree’s rat’s nest out of her eyes. Bree groaned, pulling herself up on one elbow to face her. “Stupid.”

“Do you need anything?” Skylar asked, beginning to comb through her hair with her fingers. 

“Fuckin’...” Bree thought. “What’s it called. Kaz’s off-brand Dayquil. Cocoa. Ow, my head.”

Skylar furrowed her eyebrows. “Okay.”

“Thanks, babe,” Bree shot her with a finger gun, flopping her face back into the pillow.

Skylar leaned down, giving her a peck.

“Hey,” Bree weakly batted her away. “Y’ gonna catch it.”

“Calderans don’t get human illnesses,” Skylar replied. She swung her legs off the side of the bed, going to her closet to change.

“Yeah, well,” Bree argued, back to being buried. “We always said bionic people don’t get sick, too.”

“It’s an entirely different physiology, babe,” Skylar waved. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine.” 

[halfaxphantom]

Danny swivelled, watching Skylar even as the demon grabbed his leg, the Oni readying another blow now Danny was distracted. He had less concern for himself, but the final straw was the sight of another hellhound racing for Skylar since she too was distracted by him.

The last vestiges of his control slipped, the other demons sensed the change but were powerless to stop under orders from their wielders. The demon on Danny's leg screeched as power lanced through it, vaporising it instantly. He blocked the blow from the Oni with his wrist before sending it flying as he raced to intervene, snapping the neck of the hellhound that had targeted Skylar.

Danny didn't look like his usual self either, his horns lengthening, skin darkened and his eyes were dark voids, no sign of pupil or iris.

🔮The Summoning😈

😈🔮

[goldendivinewrath]

“He SHOT me!! He godamn motherfucking SHOT ME!!” Skylar screeched, holding her forearm close her her body, a cloth wrapped around it to stop the bleeding. She was going to go after him until she could wrap her hands around his neck and squeeze-

Sure, it wasn’t a bad injury. Clean in-and-out, and to her forearm no less. Didn’t even hit anything important. That, she reasoned, gave her enough of a reason to follow after him. Her unbridled rage prevented the pain from seeping in too quickly and stopping her in her tracks.

“I’ll kill him!! Let me at him!!!”

Oh. Oh. Uh-oh.

Between one second and the next, Vash was moving. On one side of that second had been the reassurance that Skylar was okay, that the wound was more or less taken care of and would heal without problems in the near future, an unfortunate but easy to treat injury.

On the other side of that second was Vash's complete and total realization that if he did not use the whole of his strength and speed to cross that distance faster than Skylar could give him the slip, she was going to do what she threatened, and was going to wind up putting herself in more danger, and that was just a little higher priority than holding back and taking a little breather himself.

He really did not want to risk jostling her or that newly-wounded arm, but he suspected that winding an arm around her waist and trying to hold her like one would very poorly hold a feral cat before they realized what a terrible idea it was seemed... uh. Better than nothing? "Wait wait wait, hold on! Let's not make any hasty decisions!" Like biting or punching...

"You could, um. Try a strongly-worded letter..?"

[empxsvpernova]

“Wanna know what I think? I think thinkin' this place is some fortress is kiddin' ourselves.” Daryl mutters, squinting as his eyes scan along the fences and watching a couple of biters limping along the chain links, docile and seemingly unaware of their presence.

Roman’s gaze lifts to the sky, teething the stale cigarette up and down dangling from his mouth. “Yeh.” He sighs gruffly, smoke filtering from his nose as he lowers his gaze back ahead of them.

“How’s Maggie doin'?” Daryl questions after a beat causing Roman to shift in his boots, glancing at him.

He nods and drops his dark orbs to the pavement of the rec yard, his cigarette glowing in the darkness as he takes another drag into his lungs. “She’s comin' out it.. y'kno..” he shrugs and tries dismissing the discussion.

He hadn’t realized that in stepping up a dynamic shift had been realized. Or maybe it hadn’t at all, and he was just reading too far into the simple question. Daryl didn’t neccesarily look up to Roman, it was more a mutual understanding that they all had to shoulder the burden of taking charge in Rick’s stead while he worked through things. It had caught him more off guard having Hershel of all people coming to him in concern over his daughter. Hershel and he hadn’t exactly got off on the right foot.. first impressions and all.

‘Let me be clear. Rick's convinced me to let you all stay, but that doesn’t mean I care much for the decision. Now I’ve been more than lenient and patient on just about everything, including letting you in my home.. Andrea and some of the others are callin' you the delinquent like it’s a term of endearment, but I find nothing endearing about a young man who’s already found himself behind bars. You stay away from my daughters.. and hopefully we won’t have to have another conversation. Do we have an understanding?'

'Yes sir..'

'Good.'

But things had changed from the time Hershel had been forced to stitch him up. They’d at least fallen into a mutual agreement that Shane was and had always been a threat. He couldn’t even imagine how Hershel had to have felt siding with a criminal over a cop.. siding with the criminal he saw as sniffing around his daughter, at that.

'You know what Shane was before all of this–he was a cop. Supposed to – to be the embodiment of morality and yet every decision he makes is based off of his own selfishness.' Dale’s voice echoes in his mind. 'And yet you, a degenerate by your own standard, have a better moral standing than a man who swore an oath to serve and protect others. How’s that for irony.. I don’t trust him.. Roman. But I trust you, and- and I barely even know you. And you know why? Because it’s clear.. that your conscious.. is still in the driver’s seat. This world didn’t change you did it, it just showed who you really are. What you choose to be.'

'Sorry brother.' Daryl’s voice suddenly echoes back from that night the biter got ahold of Dale, the gunshot following and Roman finally exhales and tosses his cigarette to the pavement, stepping on the ember to snuff it out. His brows furrow.

“Been missin' Dale these days..” he mumbles and sniffs again faintly, glancing to Daryl at his side. “..miss all em– it’s just.. mean it felt like he was one holdin' shit together half the time. Voice of reason.” He shrugs and glances off, scanning the fences. “Shane.. mofucker was always barkin' at him cause he known Dale saw right through him. Couldn’t fool him for shit.. hell none of us could.” He muses.

“I’ve tried reason with Rick.. he's gone right now. Ain’t all there.” Daryl shrugs and shakes his head a bit.

“Yeh.. wouldn’t expect no different.” Roman nods, his jaws tensing through his cheeks. “He'll come around.” He repeats, his gaze lowering to the ground again as the conversation with Lori crosses his mind.

There was no forgetting any of it. Daryl had been right, the prison wasn’t a fortress.. it was a tomb. And they were living with ghosts. Lori's, Tdogg’s, the inmates and guards who’d all died within the walls of it. It seemed like everyone they’d lost were just as trapped.

He still remembered Amy, and Jim, Jaquis.. still somewhat blamed himself for not throwing her over his shoulder and toting her out the CDC kicking and screaming if he had to.. but who was he to decide how she’d die. Maybe she just didn’t want to end up like Amy, or Jim... maybe they were all on bought time and the prison was just a fluke sitting on a pipe dream.

“Maybe..” Daryl finally mutters dragging Roman from his thoughts. Realizing it was a response to his flimsy attempt at a reassurance.

“Well.. whether he do or don’t.. Carol, Maggie, Beth, the baby, Hershel.. they lookin' to us to hold shit down. Gotta do what we gotta do to make that happen–ain’t got no choice.”

“Yeah..” Daryl grunts and readjusts his crossbow slung over his shoulder, shifting to turn toward the steel door of the prison. “You comin'?”

Roman shifts halfway and glances up toward the windows of the guard tower, watching the dim light of the lantern flickering against the walls. He glances back down at Daryl and shakes his head a bit. “Gon’ go check on Mags.. relieve her an' let her get some sleep if she’s needin'.. hell knows I ain’t gettin' none.”

“Know that’s right.” Daryl sniffs with faint amusement and nods, the steel door groaning as he opens it to step inside. “See ya.”

“Yeh..” Roman nods before he turns to start toward the door to the tower, hearing the other close behind him as Daryl heads inside for the night.

He doubted Maggie would be getting any sleep either, even if he offered it to her.. stubborn as she was. Truthfully, they just hadn’t spoken much throughout the day and the questioning of her state on Daryl’s end had prompted him to want to do a wellness check.. that’s what he told himself anyway.

He tugs the door open, the steel hinges squeaking against years of weathered rust and use before he steps inside the narrow staircase. He ascends them slowly, worn combats thudding and turning to pass the threshold into the dimly lit control room.

He finds her sitting on the guard’s desk littered with papers, her knees tugged up against her chest with her arms wrapped around her legs as she gazes out at the prison yard. His mouth presses as he adjusts the strap to his rifle slung over his shoulder, his dark gaze wandering over her form.

“Ay cowgirl.. why don’t ya head on down an' get ya some sleep hm.. can take over here.” he says gently and slips the rifle off, gripping the barrel and setting it down gently propped against the wall next to him.

It had started becoming a force of habit by now. Even when she was in her cell it seemed like he’d find reasons to just .. check in. Roman had been grappling with it, acting as though he was trying to gain a sense of what was stirring in him but he knew the feeling and what he understood it to be. Denial was a strong emotion– one he was also quite familiar with.

It was easy to dismiss when the entire focus had to be set on survival. But at night when it got quiet; when there were no biters to stab, no ditches to dig, no runs to make, no discussions to be had and he was laying awake in his cell or sitting up in this same tower with his thoughts running..

He could grapple with it, deny it, dismiss it. But it would still be there, unmistakable and persistent.

Tonight was one of dismissal though. He believed he was past the point of denial.. that had gone out the window the moment she’d laid her hand on his chest and found his gaze with a fear in them he hadn’t seen from her just yet, in all the forms it had taken so far. Maybe that unmistakable and persistent feeling had crept it’s way into her, maybe she was grappling with what it was too.. or maybe he was just tired and reading too far into things. It seemed he often did.

[gotwcird]

skylar gasped dramatically. "you're folding your laundry even without my prompting?! when did this even start?" the shock was genuine though, which then melted into a kind of pride that she had some kind of palpable effect on him, even beyond just the thought of doing things, the possibility of spreadsheets and the like. felt herself swell with pride, just a little. it was perfectly paired too with their continued discussions surrounding the pillow forts, felt her cheeks burn hotter and deeper too because her mind just ended up wandering to fantasies of pillows and blankets collapsing on top of them because they were having the kind of sex that made beds shake. fuck, she was getting ahead of herself too much! "perfect, then you can teach me how to build the proper ones," she said, words muffled by the sushi she stuffed in her mouth to placate her own wild fantasies. had to swallow them down roughly because she took too much at once, hopes he didn't notice her ridiculousness as she drank water to get it all down. "i never built any as a kid. never really was a thing for me."

stephen's answer definitely struck something in her though. even if she'd suggested it, there was no way for her to ignore how it made her feel all warm and fuzzy, how it confirmed something in her that made her warm. how their connection had become so much more than just a public relations relationship. had repeated it again and again this evening, but still sky felt the need to confirm it, just because. "well, that'll be easy, because i'm always honest with you. lost my filter with you months ago." that much was true, she was just lucky he seemed to like it. "but yeah, i don't think making a tour bus pillow fort would be fulfilling."

she was buzzing as they finished up the rest of the platter, reminded of his offer for their first session after dinner. "so uh—" abruptly stood up, the chair screeching a bit on her wooden floor. "sorry." sky cringed, so tried to ignore it by cleaning up the table and then quickly throwing things and placing them in the sink. suddenly felt a wave of nerves come over her, maybe even more than when she was going to ask stephen for the new scope of lessons. suddenly dawned on her that she was going to have sex with stephen, that he'd take her virginity as a part of this new arrangement that if it followed the pattern of their kissing lessons she'd enjoy way too fucking much. would be yearning for more almost immediately, which just made her stomach swoop low with desire. she swallowed as she turned from the sink back to stephen. "what a valentine's day to remember, am i right?"

"he’s a champion for the cause," stephen decided, unable to look away from her mouth. don't get him started on kissing. best to blame it on the yuzu lip balm. and he wasn't exactly counting the minutes since the last chance he had to kiss his very-serious-yet-not-so-real-girlfriend, but he was suddenly wondering when he could sneak one in. for practice's sake, of course. to keep his lessons fresh in each other's minds. "it’s not just the spit. you’re also infecting me with the desire to… fold my own laundry. which by the way, i didn’t even know was physically possible until you bullied me into it." which was not a complaint by any means. maybe it was a good thing he was changing, evolving into something new and improved. he now carried not just one but three ballpoint pens at any given time, all stashed in various pockets of jackets and hoodies. still, he continued to ask for hers every single time, because he'd grown fond of the way sky lit up when he asked and the chance to reach out for her hand with pleading eyes; sometimes played up for the cameras, sometimes with a genuine interest in having her near. "guess you're the bad influence all along."

"see, you get it. pillow fort diplomacy is now officially part of our arrangement," he stated, delighted at the idea of sex-ed in a blanket bunker and watching sky try to bury her bashfulness behind bites of sushi. it was endearing as hell to witness. "you’ll regret offering, though. i don’t do small forts. i’m talking architectural masterpieces. pillow skyscrapers. the works," stephen explained because, of course, he never did anything minimal. it was either go big or go home, and stephen rarely ever did the latter. luckily, sky was usually right beside him, laughing along with the unconventional ideas; never at him. most people in the industry would've rolled their eyes at the idea of a rock star who still believed in blanket fortresses for serious conversations, but sky just nodded like it made perfect sense. she was good like that, good for him.

he popped more food into his mouth until the platter was half empty, chewing slowly as if trying to rein himself in, though the sparkle in his eyes gave him away. too much excitement for the unknown and the risky. when she asked her question, he was mid-pork bun, and had to quickly stuff down the food with a muffled chuckle before he could accidentally choke on it. didn't have much time to consider her logic, but he didn't see the need to limit their safe zone to four walls or a fluffy fortress. they were bigger than any physical space. "yeah. us. i like that," he said, liking the sound of it as the words came out. "when it’s just us? no press. no fans. no cameras. that’s the safe zone," he stated. "the rest of the world, it’s got nothing on us. we can be as weird or honest or—" he almost said needy but bit it back, swallowing the word in transit, "as unfiltered as we want," he continued, playfully nudging his knee against hers. "and it means we don’t gotta drag a dozen of throw pillows onto every tour bus or hotel room, which… honestly, would be a logistical nightmare."