#then he can continue on and deal with EVEN MORE shenanigans in the future :)

[whump-on-a-string]

Guy's been alone in his lil vampire house for about 4 decades too long and forgot how to have a normal conversation. He just yoinks people off the street for a little dinner party bc he doesn't know how else to go about it. Poor bastard just wants some friends.

I like my shenanigans with a bit of levity.

[gabessquishytum]

Morpheus Endless has never had much expectations from his life: he is a third child, so he has always known he'd never ascend his father's throne. Besides, he's an omega, which makes him merely a commodity. He has never been fond of his life at home, his parents ignoring him and his siblings too lost in their own misery and shenanigans, but he was cautious of his prospects, for he has always realized how much he'd be dependent on his future spouse. For once, gods seem to smile at him because Morpheus gets suddenly betrothed to King Robert Gadling, ruler of the neighboring lands. Robert has a reputation as a fair king, although Morpheus finds it very alarming and disappointing that he keeps slaves and that slavery is a norm in his kingdom in general. Still, everyone knows that Robert treated his wife Eleanor with respect despite the fact that she was an omega, and this gives Morpheus hope. What Morpheus doesn't know is that his future alpha has no desire to get married again. He simply has to. His beloved queen died as a result of ectopic pregnancy, and he still needs an heir. And better an heir and a spare. Robert agrees to the union with the Endless dynasty: in fact, that's an incredibly fortunate deal for his kingdom because his neighbors are way more powerful and rich. But for him, it's nothing but a business agreement. That's why Robert is taken aback when he finally meets his fiancé at the wedding: Prince Morpheus is ethereally beautiful. Robert falls in love at first sight and hates himself for it because it feels like he's betraying the memory of Eleanor. He's perfectly polite to his new husband, albeit cold and neglectful, and Morpheus can't figure out what he has done to displease his alpha: he is well aware of many faults of his character, but he really tried to be on his best behavior, and besides, they barely interacted at all. Robert gets drunk at the wedding. Morpheus waits for him till dawn, but he doesn't come to consummate the marriage. He continues to ignore Morpheus' existence till his omega goes into heat, and that's when Robert can no longer deny the pull and longing. And he does need an heir. Morpheus' heat is everything they both ever wanted, days and nights spent in tender lovemaking, and Morpheus dares to hope that from now on, it is going to be different...but once his heat has run its course, he wakes up alone and heartbroken. Shortly after, they find out that Morpheus is pregnant. Robert is excited and torn apart between his feelings for his mate and his love for the memory of Eleanor. He doesn't know what to do, so he does nothing. He only realizes what a fool he has been when Morpheus goes into labor, and it turns out that the baby is not well positioned. Morpheus spends two days in labor, and there are serious fears that neither he nor the baby would make it. Morpheus is barely alive by the end of the ordeal, but he miraculously gives birth to a healthy baby boy - Robyn. He himself is seriously ill, though, and in fever. Robert never leaves his side and prays to every god that his mate will survive so they can have a second chance. He is ready to do anything to make Morpheus happy, from abolishing slavery that his mate resents so much to pandering to his every whim.

OOO this is such a great outline for a story!! You can definitely see both perspectives here. Hob didn't want to remarry, he's traumatised, he feels so many things and everything is moving so quickly. Meanwhile Morpheus is in a completely new place with new people, knowing that he has a duty to fulfil, trying his best... only to find that nothing he does is enough for his new husband.

Morpheus even understands that his pregnancy must be a huge trigger for Hob, so he does his best not to mention it at all. He even hides the bump under draping clothes so his husband won't be reminded of his condition. Hob wavers between spending time with Morpheus and ignoring him for days. He forgets that Morpheus is going through this for the first time, essentially alone.

The traumatic labour does at least snap Hob out of his selfishness. He refuses to leave Morpheus even during the worst, when they think the omega might die. After Robyn is born, Hob takes care of him personally, feeding him and holding him as much as possible, and spending the rest of his time at Morpheus’s bedside. He doesn't deserve his omega, he's well aware of that - but Morpheus deserves to live! And Hob wants a chance to love him, at the very least. He wants Morpheus so much he can hardly breathe. He'd thought it was silly that his omega cared so much about slavery - it's just what Hob’s kingdom has always done. But now Hob would give anything to talk to be Morpheus about it. To be guided by his mate's principles. They could build a better realm together.

When Morpheus wakes up, he's surprised to see his mate beside him, with their newborn baby snuggled up in the crook of his arm. Morpheus hardly recognises Hob. He looks tired and soft and his eyes are full of tenderness. Morpheus wearily asks for water and Hob personally helps him to drink, slow and careful.

Morpheus is sort of expecting a grovelling apology that he'll have to listen to and then he'll have to be the bigger person, to give Hob the balm of forgiveness... but that doesn't happen. Hob just. Does stuff. Instead of making promises. He nurses Morpheus through his recovery, and supports him as he starts to care for Robyn more each day. He brings matters of state and ideas to Morpheus’s attention and asks for his opinions. He sleeps beside Morpheus each night (not in the same bed, but in the same room) until he's finally invited to join his omega. He doesn't even mention sex until Morpheus brings it up. And it's only much later that Morpheus finds out that slavery was outlawed while he was sick.

It doesn't mean that Hob didn't make mistakes. But it does mean that he won't be repeating them. And that Morpheus can finally learn to trust him. He's happy to invite Hob to share his first heat after giving birth. There's no alpha he'd rather have.

And Eleanor's spirit is finally smiling down on them, instead of repeatedly smacking Hob around the head for his behaviour <33

[ekwolfwriter-blog]

WIP Zutara Challenge: Divine intervention

Man oh man, do I love this prompt. As I have a few fics that I guess fall under this. Most of them are posted in Ao3 is people are curious. I will be posting them at the end so no worries. But honestly anything with the spirits - at least how I consider it - divine intervention - and I have too many ideas for it

Such as one fic idea of the spirits allowing Katara to go back in time with all the memories but cannot physically touch people that she was close to as it could make them remember the horrible future - for angst.

A transformation fic that I have been sitting one - well two - where both Katara and Zuko get turned into animals and find out that the other loves them through the barrier of the lack of human ego getting in the way. (Katara being turned into a fox-snow leopard is also on the docket with Blue Spirit, which I will share in a bit). And a few other ideas like OC's coming in and helping out with the time line or changing it to make it make sense - if you know, you know.

And I also have some links for on going projects with spirit intervention and if people are curious about what I will be doing and going with it, please read and leave a comment!

First on the docket is my all time fav and an intro to an OC that I adore and is definitely one that helps with the story more times than I can count: Fortune Teller Rewrite

Next is one I have to work on, but it does have some spiritual intervention with transformation: Right Time Wrong Tea

Another one is my Forget Me Never fic with implications of spirit intervention.

And Lastly, my new project that will have lots of Divine intervention and spirit shenanigans is Ghost of a Waterbender (of which a new chapter will be posted soon)

As for the WIP challenge, here is a snippet of WIP where Katara unknowingly makes a deal with a spirit intervening for her (P.S. mention of alcohol):

Damasu took another sip of the sake that got brought as he seemed to think for a moment. “Well, it seems to me you already have an idea about what you want. But are conflicted because it does not match what others think or who they think you should be with.”

“Well, yes!” Katara snapped. “I know I should choose but I always had to choose for everything when we were traveling! I always had to care for people and make sure they were cared for. Final decisions on what we ate and did. And yet, never was it my choice completely. And even if I choose, I know people will get hurt and it will be my fault. And just once, I want something easy given to me.”

“Hmm,” Damasu smirked. “Sounds like a way to go, to have things given to you. Much like an animal that gets pulled around and does what it’s told. Is that what you want?”

“What?! No! No way, I will never be jerked around like that. I am not some prize that can be flaunted and told to obey on command.”

“And yet you feel like you are now?”

Katara realized what she said and bit her lip as she looked away from the strange man.

But Damasu only gave a mischievous grin. “From what I can see, you have a wild heart, and that is good. At least for you. You want to have your freedom to fight your own battles and prove yourself but at the same time, would like to know someone will be there for you. Protect you and love you for the powerful and beautiful woman you are, right?”

Katara did not face Damasu again, but she could not help but nod to his question.

Damasu smirked as he took another sip of his drink and poured some more for Katara. “Well, then I think I can help with that. A little wager if you will.”

Katara scoffed. “Oh, and what would this wager be?”

“I bet that the man that will fulfill your wish will be able to see you for who you are, even if you are… shall we say, not looking your best.”

“What? Would I look like I just woke up and have massive bed hair?” Katara asked with slurred words. All the drinks of the night were starting to get to her.

“Something like that,” Damasu said softly, then continued. “The catch is, you must stay that way until either of them figures out it is you. And only then will you be able to find the one that loves you with an act of true love. Either by words or actions. In this new look that is.”

Katara squinted at Damasu as she felt suspicious of him again. “What is in it for you, if this is a proper wager?”

Damasu smirked. “Even while becoming intoxicated, you are still sharp. I love that. And the only thing I want… is a good show.” He said with that continuous mischievous look in her eyes.

Katara chuckled from his answer as she was finding it hard to believe. “So let me get this straight, I will look a certain way. Unrecognizable to the world, and will stay that way until the one who loves me the most figures out that it is me and I get my answer, and all you want is to just watch?”

“Yup,” he answered as he gave her drink and he poured some for himself.

“No strings attach?” Katara grilled him.

Damasu smiled as he reached for Katara’s necklace and tapped it. “In honor of the water and moon spirits that watch over us, I swear. That is all I am offering.”

Katara looked down at his hand then at him. Katara’s vision was getting a bit blurry but while it might be the drinks talking, it did sound nice to have that option. She then reached for the drink and raised it to Damasu. “You have a deal then.”

Damasu smirked as he raised his glass and clinked it to hers. “A deal then,” he quietly cheered. They both took the drink and then Katara sighed. “I should get home.”

“Fair, after all, it will be a busy day tomorrow,” Damasu said as he got up.

“Will I see you tomorrow then?” Katara’s words slurred more as she was getting tired.

Damasu did not answer as he put down something on the bar then tapped Katara’s forehead. “You will see me very soon,” he whispered to her and left.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

[houseofbrat]

You don't just "sit this one out" if you're the future Queen. A state visit is a must attend for her (and she looks capable of attending) so there are weird shenanigans going on here. I really can't stand all the lies. I so wish the truth would come out from someone, anyone. It's beyond odd that the lid has been kept on this thing so long.

Whoa, she is OUT.

Kate loves getting glam for the cameras and what a great way to reintroduce her to the public after whatever happened to her. It does seem like she’s being punished and seriously she’s been nothing but loyal. She went after Meghan with that same Rottweiler energy Cam showed Diana. That wasn’t worthy of a reward? It just shows we know nothing of these folks. But they’re having a much harder time pretending they’re normal, aren’t they? The magic spell is getting threadbare…

Why should she be there? Why should she get to wear a pretty dress and jewels when she can’t be bothered to do any actual work?

She’s recovered enough to do multiple photoshoots and a video shoot to tell us she’s “not out of the woods” so nobody expects her to show up at a patronage but somehow healthy enough for glam events like Wimbledon or Trooping.

KP leaked that she’s not attending because she wants to focus on her Carol concert 🙄 Or even if this is her being “punished” which is to say held accountable for not wanting to do the boring day job, I see no issue with it.

She looks really unhappy, like on the verge of tears almost. What the hell is going on?

Nothing is worth this and it’s pretty obvious that dealing with him is terrible for her health. She’s good at playing the long game. I don’t know why she doesn’t divorce him, lay low, outlive him to spit on his grave, and have her son take care of her in her old age.

She will always be taken care of, but I am assuming they are holding custody of the kids over her so she can go nowhere.

What do you mean? They're obviously so in love! Every gesture, every glance shows it. You people are just jealous of their eternal bond

/s XD

What a difference a few months make ... thinking back to that stunning smile in the carriage at Trooping the Colour. In June, it was like she had the upper hand. But she should have realised who always had the power - and it's not the one who marries into that family. It is a cursed title from that point of view.

Whatever she's had to agree to, it is too much. No wonder they looked so awkward at the Qatari reception. It was like a divorced couple, trying to be civil. The body language screamed "Get me out of here!"

William's ONLY JOB is to put on a happy face for the public and he can't even be bothered to do that. He's riding in a goddamn carriage for 5 minutes and the effort of seeming OK was too much for him to manage. This is a hair away from being Kate's version of Diana's Taj Mahal photo. They look as miserable as Chuck & Di did their last few outings. The only difference is that Kate can't bolt like Di did

One habit I noticed from Prince Phillip was that he generally walked with his hands clasped behind him. Because he didn't have to worry about carrying anything (he always had staff around to take care of those kinds of tasks), it made him seem more powerful. When William walks with his hands clasped in front of him, he looks like he's uncertain, vulnerable, protecting himself.

The point of royals attending events isn't to just talk to each other! Jeez. They're supposed to mingle. They are part of the fucking host family

I have had warmer conversations with waiters. The Press must be paid a ransom to keep quiet about this, but there again cancer silences all questions from utter lack of work ethic to why can you not bear your wife?

Their behaviour to the King has been vile from moment one and it continues into this cancer charade. I feel they would have rained on any of the king’s parades figuratively and literally. From Coronation to cancer. Odd her illness was announced on the pre planned press release date of the King’s planned prostate surgery. Nothing, including lateness at a coronation happens by accident.

Finally why is she the only person dressed as though she has popped in post church? Her dire coats dresses and that hideous hat, why? If we only get her a few times a year trot her out in high fashion designs from up and coming British designers. Their cos playing middle class people is frankly embarrassing for state funded multi millionaires who don’t pay their tax

Why the hat? It does look silly. No one else is wearing one. Something is going on. It looks like they are about to have a heated argument. She is talking at William and he looks over his shoulder to see if anyone is listening behind them. They both look totally unengaged and disinterested.

I know this is stated over and over again, but for someone with such enormous privilege and without the demands of modern motherhood, she looks like hell.

So basically she's only showing up for fancy dress photo-ops? It's giving half-in, half-out. You know, the same thing her BIL and SIL were prohibited from doing even though they were wanting to be financially independent.

Exactly. It is beyond me how so many people do not see this.

[karpad]

I want to use a metaphor of local government to elaborate on why you'll see people say "you say every election is the most important ever, fuck you." if you'll pardon the novella:

My political project is education. Public schools and, specifically libraries, are a treasure that I believe we should be building and supporting the way medieval dukes would build churches.

Within local government, you'll find some liberals who, in general think I've got a pretty good idea, but they have other priorities as well, such as demarking county land for subdivision development and allocating funds for police to keep their downtown shopping district clean and safe (ie free of homeless people or youths). But there are also conservatives who want to turn the subdivisions into fiefdoms for their HOAs, oppose all my ideal funding projects and, indeed, any property tax funded projects of any kind, and want the brutalizing cops to be funded by federal grants and seizures from poor people

about a decade ago, due to a combination of term limits and support from up ticket voter turnout, one of those conservatives got elected. before the end of his 2 year term, he did indeed gut a bunch of these desired projects sold off local park land to developers who happened to be his brother in law's business partners, and similar shenanigans before the normal low-turnout elections got a big push from everyone agreeing this is not normal, is a big deal, and a drive to register a bunch of college students and local liberals pushed him back out.

now obviously, he wants back in and is re-running in every election he can, and will keep doing so because the Board of Commerce loves his crooked ass. But at least for the foreseeable future, so long as we maintain some kind of coalition, he doesn't stand a chance and we can keep him out. Which is great.

But here's the thing, there are, in fact, more liberals with their housing development goals ("student housing! we're a huge college town! that's important and will drive down prices!") and downtown renewal projects than my Friends of the Library expansion project. We have different goals, and I understand this.

So we need this coalition to keep the monsters out. but, and here's the important part, the liberals get to continue working on their project the entire time whenever my voting bloc keeps them in power, but rather than meeting their goals AND my goals, they ignore my goals and offer me only "well, you'd hate it even worse if that asshole got back. its important to keep him out."

Like, yes, I have more in common with them than I do with the conservative. But I am simultaneously important enough to need a coalition with, but not important enough for you to fulfill my political projects.

Which is kind of insulting. Either you need me, and therefore should act like it and do things I want, or you don't, in which case you can ignore me but I have no obligations to you either.

[bearzas-art]

Kinger Can't Sleep

Paring: Kinger (TADC) x Reader Type: Platonic, fluff-ish Word Count: 987

Reader's gender is vague :P

Enjoy the result of my raging autism

Today had been a long day. You haven’t been in the circus for a while so you’re still getting used to the shenanigans and your digital body. Oddly enough, you found Ragatha to be right about the routine of going to sleep every night being calming in a way. After slipping under the covers you close your eyes. You feel your head sinking into your pillow as you start to relax before hearing a soft knock and your door creaking open a crack.

“Psst… Psst! Hey y/n, are you awake?” It was the voice of Kinger, a tall king chess piece in a purple robe with white fur that had black spots on the edges. Although your bedroom was dark, the light in the hallway allowed you to see Kinger peeking his head into your bedroom. You sit up in bed and rub your eyes tiredly while mumbling softly to yourself.

“Yeah… I’m awake.” You mutter before yawning softly. After letting your eyes adjust to the darkness you noticed Kinger seemed nervous. Sure he’s always nervous, but right now he seemed like he was more nervous than normal.  “Did you need something?” With that question, Kinger put up his index finger and hesitated before responding.

“Okay, well… I’ve got a bit of a problem.” He pauses and quickly looks behind him. His gaze locks back onto yours while rubbing his hands together nervously before continuing. “I can’t- I can’t fall asleep! No matter what I do I just- it isn’t working. I need your help. Please please please can you help me?!” He started to sound more frantic as he begged you to help. What? Why is he begging me of all people to help him sleep? What am I supposed to do?

“Okay, okay! Just… calm down, please. I need to think of something.” You prop your head up with your hand, wracking your brain of ways to make people sleep. Maybe he needs something he can’t do on his own? But what would help that he’d need-

“AAAA!” You jumped and let out a short scream in response to Kinger’s sudden yell. Clutching your chest, you look and Kinger with wide eyes. He returns the wide eyed gaze, the awkward silence filling the air. The tension could be cut with a knife.

“What was that for?!” You asked in slight annoyance. Kinger shook slightly before responding. “Sorry! Sorry about that. I um, you were quiet for so long. I thought maybe you left.” What? How does that even- whatever. I need to think of a solution before he scares the s#!% out of me again. “Alright, well how about I tuck you in?” Kinger stares at you silently for a moment, making you feel a little nervous. “What do you mean?” He asks quickly. You let out a soft sigh and get up from your bed, walking over to the door. Kinger quickly backs away a bit and looks down at you. You grab his hand, making his eyes widen more. His gaze quickly shifts from your face to your hands.

“Here, I’ll do it for you.” You and Kinger start walking down the large hallway. This felt weird, like you were the older one and not him. You were too tired to dwell on the fact that you were holding his hand and practically pulling him back to his bedroom. If this comes up in conversation, it’s for future me to deal with. You thought to yourself.

Once you both get to Kinger’s bedroom you let go of his hand and stand with him in front of the doorway. His bedroom is fairly dark as well, the only things he has is his bed, a dresser, and a framed picture of his wife Queenie. He stands there nervously rubbing his hands while his eyes dart around the room. You gesture towards his bed, expecting him to get in. “Oh, right.” He chuckles a bit to himself while walking over to his bed and laying down. What decisions have I made that brought me to tucking in a man in his 40s? You ask yourself.You walk over to the side of his bed, tucking in the nearest side of his bed then leaning over and tucking the far side. While pulling your arm back, Kinger suddenly grabs your arm and keeps it draped over his body.

“Wh- what the heck? Why did you grab my arm?” You ask quickly in confusion. Your eyebrows knit together and you look around the bed before looking back at Kinger. He mumbles something incoherently then lets out a deep sigh, his eyes already closed. Wow, that was quick. You thought. He looked so peaceful in his sleep. Since it seemed he’s been riding the line between just being insane and abstracting, it’s nice seeing him so calm. Though it doesn’t help that he’s clinging onto your arm.

You try to gently get your arm out of his surprisingly tight grasp to no avail. You tried pulling your arm away but he started to gumble in his sleep. You stopped in hopes he’d stay asleep, but assumed that if you did pull your arm away you’d have to deal with his hands being attached to you still. Admitting defeat, you slowly try to lower yourself on the ground while keeping your arm on Kinger. 

Great, now I’m not gonna get any sleep. You thought to yourself as you sat on his floor, your side pressed up against his bed. You let out a sigh, trying your best to be quiet. After admitting defeat, you rest you head on your shoulder, using it as a pillow. Hopefully you can still get some sleep. Of course you don’t really need it, but it would be nice. After a while of sitting there your eyelids start to feel heavier. Yawning softly and closing your eyes, you start to drift to sleep.

[galactica7071]

I did a really horrible thing to myself and tried to make sense of one of Red Dwarf's many plot holes.....

this being: how and where did the cycle of Lister being his own father start?

The main issue with it is the really fucked up version of the chicken-or-egg dilemma; there has to have been a father, but there has to be a son as well for the father to exist because the son will eventually become the father

solution 1: he has two dads the "father" Lister (the one who had to live up until season 7 episode 3 to be able to have himself as a child) has an actual father that isn't himself so he could exist prior to The Loop™️ the "son" Lister (which is the guy we follow throughout the show, even after "Ouroboros") is the son of the "father" and the grandson of the "father"'s father; who was born three million years in the future before being sent back in time by his "father" so he could become his future self (in other words, the "father") and be able to keep being reborn as himself the "son" grows up, becomes the "father", and has the "son", then the cycle continues; the chicken in this instance is the grandfather, and the egg is the loop itself

solution 2 (and the one I like more): alternate universe shenanigans A Lister (could be either the "father" or "son", but functionally the "father") from another universe got thrown into the main Red Dwarf universe as an infant at the time he was said to have been born, and went through everything up until "Ouroboros" where he had a child that was intended to have been that universe's Lister (the actual "son"), and not the one from another universe (the functional "father" who is also the false "son"); the loop is really the universe trying to sort itself out after the anomaly (which was the "father" entering the universe that wasn't his own). The chicken is the "father"/false "son" and the egg is the actual "son".

I believe solution 2 is the better one because it could also clear up some other plot holes relating to Lister, like his childhood/family that slowly got retconned and other things relating to his past (the double appendectomy, mainly). Those can be explained by him gradually adjusting to the main universe, and his past from his home universe retroactively changing to set himself up for what goes on later in the show. This, in turn, means that the Lister followed throughout the show is the "father".

Also: since the "son" Lister (stay with me here) would have half of alt Kochanski's DNA, I'm wondering if the cycle would repeat enough times for him to have more and more of her DNA instead of his own until he (in a genetic sense) becomes the "mother" as well… Unless time is linear in Red Dwarf and/or the two Listers are somehow separate, which I haven't looked into enough to really tell

overall: "ouroboros" was definitely was meant to be written off as "yeah that happened, deal with it" and never really addressed in depth again (ily "fathers and suns" 💜) but I love making sense of science fiction (I am fun at parties I promise)

[kyokimidori]

A Christmas Story

Hello Lovelies, I found this oldie and couldn't help but share it. I originally wrote this for @ninjafairy but could not find her profile. It was inspired by her creepy elf on the shelf.

Hope you all like it.

@petralynnluna @hauscrashburn

“Harry James Potter, you are not putting that thing in this house”

The green eyed boy looked up at his friend, eyes wide as he held the thing in question over the fireplace “Yes I am ‘mione.” he insisted as the object in question was placed on the mantel “It was the one tradition I remember as a kid.”

Hermione looked at the porcelain doll with an angelic face, neat black hair and dark eyes the shade of charcoal staring into nothing. All in all, it was a handsome doll, but something about it struck her as extremely creepy. “You can’t remember your own parents faces, but you can remember Mr. creepy?” she asked him her doubt evident. “He doesn't exactly scream Christmas”

“He was inside my parents Christmas things; he seemed really old too. Probably passed down from generation to generation” Harry insisted” I don't remember much but I do remember that every year at this time, my parents would set him up and when I woke up he would have moved during the middle of the night. He would pull hilarious little pranks. His name is Tom by the way”

The way he spoke was with reverence, as if he had enjoyed the fact that a doll, a creepy one at that, moved about on its own.

“You know what it wasn’t real right?” she inquired “Your parents did that for their son. I would like to point out, you are no longer a kid, so the “magic” isn't going to be there. I mean, I understand if there were kids here, but it is just you and me.”

The black-haired boy didn't bother to answer the question, instead he busied himself with fixing the dolls festive outfit of red and green.  There was no use arguing with him about this, she knew Harry could be just as stubborn as she could be. It wasn't worth it, plus, if letting her best friend move a doll around for a month was what made him happy, who was she to complain? Even if it was the creepiest thing she had ever seen.

Hermione turned and left the room, but not before casting one last look at the doll, swearing to herself that she saw its eyes following her from the room.

The next morning when she woke up she went to the kitchen, with the full intention of making breakfast, only to find the doll on the counter. The counter was covered with rice Krispies, in the middle of which the doll, Tom, was making what looked like a snow angel. 

“Harry!” She called across the house “ Really?! That's a complete waste of cereal!” Hermione sighed as she looked at Tom, his black eyes staring back at her. She frowned at him, it was like he was glaring at her, telling her he didn't like being forced to make snow angels. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s supposed to be you that “magically” gets up at night. If you don't want to make snow angels, don’t make snow angels” She snapped at the figurine.

It continued to stare at her, not responding and Hermione sighed. Had she really expected it to? Harry, wisely, did not appear from his room which was probably for the best, she wasn't sure she wouldn’t have yelled at her best friend. She grumbled about how stupid boys could be as she picked Tom up and placed him against the wall, letting him sit up in a more dignified manner. She cleaned up the mess that “Tom” had made with a sigh, watching the doll out of the corner of her eyes.

“In the future, how about you don't make such a mess” she scolded the doll as if he was the one actually doing these things “ We will have to come to some kind of understanding if I have to put up with your shenanigans for the whole month.” She finished cleaning up the mess, wiping down the counter “I’m doing this for Harry, for whatever reason, this makes him happy, so lets be civil. Deal?” she asked the doll.

She went to the fridge and took out a few eggs and veggies before going back to the counter, preparing herself an omelet. She looked at the doll against as she waited for the eggs to cook, reaching over and brushing the cereal dust off his clothes “Well, I’m glad we had this talk.” She said “it's been delightfully one sided” she plated her breakfast, place the hot pan in the over silently. “ See you tomorrow” she said leaving the kitchen , taking her breakfast with her to her room so she could study. She didn't want to spend time in the same room as the doll, something about it just gave her the heevy jeevies.

Hermione walked into the living room the next morning, a cup of tea in one hand, a book in the other. She was completely content will her morning ritual, that is, until she sat down on the couch without looking. A cracking sound alerted her to something wrong, followed by the wet feeling on her bottom. 

Jumping up, honey eyes looked down at the couch, seeing that in her state of distraction she hadn't noticed that on the couch was a carton of eggs. Tom sat on the other end of the couch, a marker in his hand with one of the eggs in his lap, drawing a face on it.

The doll was looking at her with a plaster smile, one that if he was real, she would say was attractive. Hermione scowled at him, setting her tea and book down as she stared down at the carnage her inattention had caused. It was a harmless thing that Harry had done, definitely not as messy and wasteful as the first prank had been. Or at least it wasn't meant to be. The eggs could have been reused, that is, had Hermione not deemed them a comfy place to set her behind.

“Don’t give me that look” Hermione snapped at the doll, annoyed by his rather jolly demeanor “ I know it’s my fault for not looking, but can you at least not gloat?”

“Hermione?” It was Harry’s timid voice that made her turn around, he was looking at her with a mix of amusement and concern “Are you talking to the doll?”

“No, of course not. I’m talking to myself” she snapped “Seriously Harry, do you think I have lost my marbles?” She asked her best friend “Seriously, if you are going to keep this up, try not to cause such a mess.” she sighed “or at least make his shenanigans somewhere i won't sit” she gestured to her pajama pants which were wet and covered in slime.

She heard Harry snort, trying to contain his laughter so she sent him a glare, watching him choke on his own breath. He stilled his smile and nodded “Ok Hermione, sorry” he said. The brown haired girl snorted and turned on her heel to go change into dry clothes. All she heard as she left was the muttered words Harry spoke to the doll “Be glad you aren't real, she can be some sort of terrifying when she's angry” 

Over the next week Hermione had developed a new morning ritual. She would wake up, make a cup of tea, and then scour the apartment to find out what mischief Tom had been up to during the night.

She would never admit it, but it had become one of her most enjoyable morning activities. It was fun to see what mischief Tom had decided to pull as they slept. Over the days she almost forgot that it was Harry that was actually pulling the stunts.

It was on a Tuesday morning two weeks before Christmas that she found Tom sitting in on the vanity in her bathroom, her hair dryer next to him. On the counter was a puddle of white liquid, two buttons at the top of the puddle, a carrot that seemed to be a nose. 

Hermione couldn't help the surprised laugh that Tom’s prank had elicited from her, the melted snowman’s despair evident.

 “Someone is not in a very jolly mood” she laughed as she looked at the doll. She was filled with such amusement, she just wanted so badly to show Harry. With this thought in mind the curly haired girl exited her bathroom, following the sounds of movement coming from the kitchen.

 When she approached the kitchen she found that Harry was making a cuppa.

 “Harry, you’ll never guess what Tom did last night” she said with a laugh. Harry turned around to face her, and Hermione stopped in her tracked, mouth opening in shock. 

The man in front of her was not the messy haired boy of her youth, but a different man all together. Staring back at her was the image of Tom the doll, in flesh and blood.

 “Tom?” she whispered in confusion.

 “--mione…”

Hermione blinked, wondering if what she saw was real, was she imagining it?

“ Hermione ”  

Harry’s concerned voice forced her eyes open. She was staring at her best friend again, his green eyes filled with concern.

“I-I’m sorry” she murmured pinching the bridge of her nose “I spaced out for a minute” she told her friend, not wanting him to worry. She looked at his face again, wondering why she had seemed to think she had seen Tom.

“You were telling me I wouldn't believe what Tom had done” He advised her “what did he do this time?”

Hermione shook her head slowly “Nothing-um.. Never mind. I’m not feeling so well, “I’m going to lay down” she murmured, turning on her heel and escaping back to her bedroom. Out of the corner of her eyes she swore she caught another glimpse of not Harry, but Tom with a smirk on his face.

It had been confusing, seeing Tom where Harry was, traumatizing event. She had wanted to stay away from the doll, wanted to toss him in the trash, but she couldn’t do that to Harry. She cared about him, and moving Tom seemed to be truly helping him. He liked coming up with the poses, with setting Tom up at night. He admitted to her one night as they were eating dinner that every time he moved Tom, he felt closer to his parents. It was for Harry that she ignored the uneasiness she had felt, that she fell back into the routine of looking for Tom each morning.

She never mentioned to Harry that she would still see Tom, sometimes when he was with her, seeing Tom instead of Harry, sometimes she would see flashes of Tom in her periphery, watching her. Then there were times when she was alone with the doll, she swore she heard him talk back. It was those conversations that she enjoyed, unable to help it.  She was losing her marbles and she couldn’t care less.

Over the next few weeks she had found Tom in many different poses, each more amusing than the last. She had so many favorite pranks, it was hard to keep track of. Sometimes it wasn't even pranks. Hermione had found the doll a few times in her room, once seeming to read one of her favorite books, another he was reading an essay she had written. Other times he would be decorating the tree, making cookies, heck, she had found him one day on the kitchen table surrounded by mini marshmallows on what she could only assume was supposed to be a golf course. Hermione had giggled at the sight as she plopped one of the “golf balls” into her mouth, telling him it seemed her needed to practice a bit more.   

With each day that passed, she grew more at ease around the doll, letting herself chat at it, not nearly as spooked when she imagined his eyes on her. If anything, she welcomed it. Tom was the first thing that actually listened to her, seemed to always pay attention and understand what she said. It was a ridiculous notion, she knew that, knew that Tom was not real, still, she couldn't help but wish he was.

It was almost in the blink of an eye that the month came and went, Christmas eve coming all too soon. It was strange, how just a few short weeks ago she had hated the existence of the doll, had wanted to toss it in the trash and tell Harry to suck it up. Now, as she looked at Tom she couldn't help but feel sad that the game would end. She had enjoyed her new morning ritual, despite the fact Tom’s pranks were often messy and she ended up cleaning them up. It seemed that he always managed to find a shannigan that would make her smile or laugh. 

Hermione looked at the doll who was sitting on the mantle of the fireplace, dark eyes watching her. The brown haired girl smiled softly at him “I hate to say it, but I am a bit sad that you aren't real and are just a Christmas doll” She confided to him “don’t tell Harry, but I have enjoyed your pranks”

She reached up, straightening the holiday outfit Tom was wearing “I look forward to seeing your last trick, after all, it’s your last one, might as well make it your best” she teased the doll “Don’t disappoint me”

With one last look at the doll, Hermione went to bed, excited to see the last prank of the year.

 Hermione laid in bed that night, unable to sleep, too anxious. Tonight was her last night with the doll, at least for another 12 months. She hated the idea that she would actually miss the shenanigans of a something that wasn't truly alive, she knew in her heart of hearts it was insane, that she was going bonkers, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

Over the last month her visions of Harry and Tom had blurred, sometimes it seemed like when she looked at Harry, it wasn't him, it was the gorgeous Tom, staring back at her, discussing her favorite books, arguing politics with her, being her friend. She knew it was insane, but she enjoyed their conversations, those fantasies she had created in her mind. They brought her joy, brought her someone who actually understood her, challenged her, more than Harry ever could.

She didn’t want it to end.

The sound of her door creeping open jerked her from her thoughts, honey eyes darting to the door, a tall shadowy figure standing in the frame.

“Harry?” Hermione asked, confused as to why he would be coming into her room after she had gone to bed. She sat up, turning her nightside table on “Is everything al-” she stopped mid sentence as she saw that it was not Harry that was standing in the doorway at all. No, It was her flesh and blood Tom. She supposed it wasn’t so surprising after all, she was in bed, it was likely that she had fallen asleep, that this Tom was in her dreams, a wish that her heart couldn't truly have. After all, Tom Riddle didn’t exist.

Tom moved towards her “Everything is fine ‘Mione” the boy assured her, flashing her his charming smile, the one that made her stomach flop and logical thought disappear from her head without a trace. “I couldn’t sleep, I kept thinking about earlier, about what you said”

“Wh-what I said?” Hermione inquired, watching as those long legs took him across the room to her bed, where he perched next to her.

“Yes, You want this to never end, you sense the bond we share, can feel it just like I can” he answered. “You wish that this was real” he murmured 

Hermione noticed just how close he was. She felt him take her hand in his own, couldn't help but feel her stomach twist into knots. She couldn't think of anything to say, her mind whirling.

“The thing is Hermione, this is real, has always been real, what we share, is eternal.” long fingers ran up her arm as his other hand gripped her chin, tilting her face upwards so that he could look into her eyes. “I have seen into your heart Hermione, and it is mine ”

She wasn't expecting for the kiss that came next, didn't expect the way it lit a fire inside her, consuming her. All that mattered was the man touching her, kissing her.

He was right. She was his.

 It was the smell of salmon and eggs that woke her up on Christmas morning, the scent wafting through the small apartment, luring her from her bed. It was the only motivation for her to remove herself from the safety and warmth of her comforter. 

Hermione walked to the kitchen, not caring that she was still in her pajamas, one of her roommates sweatshirts. The frizzy haired girl looked at her roommate, standing in the kitchen in nothing but a pair of green pajama pants, his pale chest exposed for the world to see. She couldn't help the slight blush that painted her cheeks as memories from the night before crept into her mind.

“Here ‘Mione, I made breakfast, I’m certain you will need your energy after last night's performance” The dark haired boy said as he placed a plate in front of her as she sat down at the island.

Hermione looked down at the simple breakfast, salmon with a piece of pumpernickel bread, scrambled eggs and chives on top.

“Thank you Tom” She murmured, avoiding the dark gaze of her friend. Instead she found the breakfast very interesting, after all, she hadn't slept with the bread and eggs.

“It is I who should be thanking you” Tom said, rounding the counter and sitting next to her, running a hand down her arm “had I known you were so feisty in the sheets…” his words were caught off by the glare she gave him. He gave her his signature charming smile, the one that always made her stomach flop.

He always had that effect on her, for as long as she could remember, he had made her stomach flip flop. She had tried to ignore it for so many years, after all, Tom Riddle was her best friend in the world, she didn't want to do anything that would complicate their relationship. Things had been complicated enough when they were in school, but when they moved in together as roommates.. It had been super hard on her as she kept her feelings suppressed a until last night…

She wasn't sure what it meant, what it did to their friendship. But she couldn't bring herself to ask. Tom poured her a cuppa and watched as she took a sip.

It was as she sipped her tea that she realized Tom had distracted her. She looked around the kitchen, suddenly confused “ Where is Harry anyways?” she asked

“By the tree, he got into the presents early this morning”

Hermione abandoned her breakfast, taking her tea with her into the living room where the Christmas tree she had decorated earlier that month. She stared down at the sight before her, confusion etched into her features. Sitting under the tree, posed as if he was excited to open presents was Harry. Hermione bent down and picked up the doll, turning to Tom “ Very funny. Where is the real Harry?” she asked 

Toms handsome face looked down at her with a look of concern, one that made Hermione question her own sanity.

“‘Mione… that is Harry” he said slowly, making her gut clench in fear. “Harry is a doll…”

Hermione looked down at the porcelain doll in her hand, it smiled demurely up at her. Memories flooded her head, of Tom pulling the doll from a box, telling her how it was the only thing his mother had done for Christmas, was move the doll around the house, letting it cause shenanigans. Tom convincing her to put the doll up, of her ritual of finding Harry each morning.

“I-i” she opened her mouth and closed it again, unsure of exactly what to think. She met Tom’s dark eyes, noting the concern in them. Still, she shook her head, riotous curls bouncing with the movement” No. Harry is real. I had dinner with him last night, We put the tree together. I’ve known him since I was a little girl. Surely you remember Tom. He was your friend!”

“No Hermione, he’s not” she hadn't even noticed that he had crossed the room until she felt his hands on her shoulders, as he bent down to look at her face, searching her eyes “ Harry had always been a doll. Don’t you remember Hermione?” he insisted

Hermione wanted to shake her head, to insist that Harry was real, that it was Tom that was the doll, but found she couldn't. As he gazed into her eyes, long fingers caressing the exposed skin of her arms, she recalled the month, how she had hated the doll at first, how it's shenanigans had slowly wore her down over time. She remembered how she had scolded Tom for allowing such a mess to happen with the doll, how Tom seemed to make it his mission to make her smile each morning.

It had worked, she had enjoyed the dolls jokes, had smiled each day she found Harry in different scenarios. Somewhere along that way it had seemed real, she had felt as if Harry were her friend.

“I swore he was real” she whispered, looking down at the doll in her hands. “He seemed so real ”

She felt Tom’s fingers working up and down her arms in a soothing manner. He nodded “I know, but it was me ‘mione, it was always me, moving him, he was never real” he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the crown on her head as he gently took the doll in question from her grasp “You know what, lets get rid of it.. You said you were creeped out by it before, I selfishly forced you to let me put it up.” He moved towards the kitchen.

Hermione followed “It was a tradition with you mother” she protested “It was important to you”

Tom stepped on the lever that opened the trash lid before dropping in the doll in “You are more important Hermione. We will make new traditions. After all, we were made for each other. What we have, that is forever. Harry is the past, you Hermione, you are my future”  with those words Tom picked up the trash bag, tying the plastic closed and taking it outside to the rubbish bin.

Hermione stared after Tom’s retreating form, her mind reeling at her confusion. As she watched him, she couldn't get the last glimpse she got of the doll. If she didn't know any better, she would have sworn she had seen fear in Harry’s eyes.

[gwenbrightly]

(Re)building the Future Chapter 9

“I wonder if I’m still banned from the daycare,” Gregory muses as he watches Freddy and Vanessa disassemble the pile of furniture and garbage currently blocking the way to Kids Cove.

“You’ve been banned from the where, now?” Chica asks. She doesn’t seem to understand the concept of lifting things and is currently struggling to move a (empty) cardboard box.

“The daycare. You know, where parents drop off their kids when they get sick of dealing with them?” He replies. He lifts a box of his own, “Here, like this.”

“Oh,” Chica says. “Are you some kind of criminal?”

“I wish. Sun just doesn’t like me ‘cause I broke a couple of rules the last time I was in there,” Gregory explains, thinking he’d have a way cooler story to tell if he was a criminal. He tosses his box carelessly to the side and picks up another piece of junk. The path is almost cleared, now (even if Vanessa and Freddy were the ones who did most of the work).

“Oh,” Chica says again. She’s not sure if she should be impressed or concerned by this revelation.

Gregory doesn’t mind; she’ll probably forget this conversation even happened here in a few minutes. They should probably find a way to fix that for her, eventually. Otherwise it’s gonna get annoying real fast.

“I think Sun probably has bigger things to worry about than your shenanigans,” Vanessa comments over her shoulder, “I doubt he’s handling the closure very well.”

“That’s gotta suck,” Gregory admits, even though he low key still has nightmares from the daycare attendant’s behavior.

“Indeed,” Freddy agrees, feeling sorry for his friend. He knows how much Sun and Moon love seeing all the children. “I imagine he will be quite relieved to see us,” he says optimistically. He clomps down the stairs, followed by the others.

“Aw’, dang it,” Gregory mutters when he sees the damage done to Kids Cove. The (apparently not very structurally sound) lighthouse has collapsed against the pirate ship, splitting it down the center. He really liked that ship. It served him well as a hiding place on several occasions.

“There, there, uh… whoever you are. Don’t be sad!” Chica says, patting his head awkwardly.

“Gregory,” he reminds her, not super sure he likes the sensation. It makes him feel a bit babyish, and she clearly doesn’t know her own strength, with the way she’s whacking him. He doesn’t really need the added headache.

“Right. And, um, what are we doing, again?”

“We are going to Superstar Daycare to see if our friends are there,” Freddy answers. He figures a simple explanation is better than trying to rehash the entire story for her. He picks his way around the slightly battered foam play blocks and debris that litter the floor. The way Fazbear Entertainment has left this place is disgraceful. The children would be so disappointed if they could see Kids Cove right now. Freddy digs his fingers under the end of one of the shutters (which still has the word “Banned” spray painted onto it) and tries to lift it. It doesn’t budge.

“Guess you don’t have a high enough security level,” Gregory jokes. He tries to act tough and kicks the shutter (which turns out to be a mistake). “Oww!” He tells, staggering backwards.

Vanessa rolls her eyes at him. “The gears are probably all jacked up from being left to rot,” she comments, examining the shutter more closely.

“In that case, it may take a little work to get it functioning probably,” Freddy notes.

Vanessa (who continues to remind Gregory of Mary Poppins) pulls an oil can out of her backpack and goes to work loosening up the various gears and chains holding the shutter in place. Her efforts help - to an extent. The next time Freddy tries to raise the shutter, it only moves a few feet before getting stuck again.

“I guess this is as good as we’re gonna get it,” Vanessa comments.

“I’d rather have to crawl under this thing than spend more time in the vents,” Gregory says with a shudder. “There probably aren’t any of those stupid Mini Music Man bots on the other side.” He takes the lead, bending over just enough to slip under the shutter. And nearly runs head first into an endoskeleton that looks a lot like the ones that used to roam the hallways by Parts and Service. He freezes, praying it won’t notice his presence and attack. There are others scattered throughout the area that surrounds the walls of the daycare. On second thought, maybe taking the vents would’ve been better. He gives a little squeak and backs away from the one nearest him as quickly as possible. Don’tmovedon’tmovedon’tmove, Gregory silently begs the endo.

“Hey, Gregory, everything okay?” Vanessa asks, crawling under the shutter to join him. “You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden.”

He wordlessly points at the endo apocalypse.

“Oh. Crap,” she says. She’s never liked those things.

“You two are really scared of those guys?” Chica suddenly appears next to them, “they’re harmless.”

“Harmless?” Gregory doesn’t believe her. As far as he’s concerned, the endos are Public Enemy Number 1 (along with practically everything else in this place).

“They only ever do anything if the Blue Bunny tells them to,” she continues.

Blue Bunny? Gregory and Vanessa glance at each other. Is that what she calls MXES?

“Speaking of blue bunnies, is anyone else suddenly craving ice cream? Mmm… birthday cake ice cream sounds so yummy right about now!” Chica gushes on and on about the merits of birthday cake ice cream for several minutes. Apparently they’re not going to find out more about the endos (or MXES, for that matter) anytime soon.

Meanwhile, Freddy, being the largest and clunkiest member of the group, finally manages to wedge himself under the shutter. He clumsily rolls into the room with a clatter. Gregory and Vanessa shush him and point at the endos, still not convinced that they’re as harmless as Chica claims. Freddy frowns when he sees them. It is an unpleasant sight. A reminder of Fazbear Entertainment’s mass production of animatronics and the lingering question of “What am I, really?”. He really does not have time for another existential crisis today.

“You three are so silly!” Chica tells them, snapping back to reality. She walks over to one of the endos and gives it a hug before anyone can stop her. It doesn’t move. “See? Nothing to worry about!”

“Huh,” is all Vanessa says. Even while half brain dead, Chica can’t help but try to befriend anything that moves (and, sometimes, things that don’t). And yet, this might be the least threatening encounter they’ve had all day. Gotta love that chicken’s luck.

“Still creepy as heck,” Gregory mutters. Just because Chica is some sort of endo whisperer doesn’t mean they’re not nightmare fuel. He can and will steal Vanessa’s taser and use it on them if they so much as look in his direction.

Freddy begins to cautiously weave around the endos and approaches the slightly battered looking door to the daycare. The others follow him. It’s time to see if the Daycare Attendant knows anything about Cassie. And if Gregory is still banned, you know, just for kicks.

—————-

Eclipse hums happily as he wipes down another foam building block and adds it to the slowly growing pile of things he has managed to get to a satisfactory level of cleanliness. The daycare is slowly starting to look like itself again, instead of the set of a zombie apocalypse movie. And to be honest, with Cassie sleeping again and Roxy (blessedly) having taken his advice to take some time for herself and go recharge, there’s not really anything else to occupy his time right now. Hopefully, Cassie stays asleep for a nice long while. His trauma response programming indicates that being awake right now probably wouldn’t help her any. And hopefully, Roxy charges enough that she doesn’t crash on him. He’s already rather worried about her - she is taking everything about this situation so personally, after all! She’s gone and given herself a complex again. Like she always does when she thinks she’s failed someone or something.

At least if he can get this place back to its usual sparkling self, Cassie can wake up to someplace nicer and not so gloomy and scary. Maybe that will cheer her up! Probably not, but it’s worth a try, and if this place stays messy, Eclipse is pretty sure he’s going to lose it. Why Sun and Moon didn’t bother to do any caretaking is beyond him. For some reason, he can’t access any memory data that would explain the mess. Or anything else. Most of the data from the past few months (closer to a year, but he’s not in the right headspace to address that right now) is corrupted. Usually, he would be able to hear Sun and Moon bickering with each other in some back corner of his system, but they’re strangely quiet.

“99 bottles of Fizzy Faz on the wall, 99 bottles of Fizzy Faz,” he hears Helpy singing in the background, “take one down, pass it around, 98 bottles of Fizzy Faz on the wall.”

Okay. He really hopes Helpy doesn’t plan on going through all 98 bottles of Fizzy Faz before he finally loses interest. There are so many better songs to sing than that. He points this out to Helpy.

“But why would I want to sing another song?” Helpy asks Eclipse, “when I can keep annoying you with this one.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Eclipse replies. He likes Helpy a lot more during those rare moments when he is being useful instead of going out of his way to be a nuisance.

“Nah, not really. MXES and I aren’t on speaking terms right now and there’s nobody who actually needs my help,” Helpy answers, getting ready to start another round of the bottles on the wall. He’s down to 54 and a half (don’t ask) when Eclipse shushes him. He glares at the daycare attendant with all the fierceness of a marshmallow. “What is it now?”

“I think there’s somebody at the door,” Eclipse tells him.

“Oh,” Helpy says, frowning, “Well, they’d better not need limb replacement surgery. Reliving my days in first aid training once was enough.”

Eclipse can’t help but agree. That was scary. And messy. And stressful. Oh dear! He’s gone and spiraled again. Where are his manners? Whoever knocked on that door is probably getting tired of waiting. He cracks it open and peers out, an instinct left over from when children roamed the daycare (better for avoiding having little Billy or Susy escape and hide in the bathroom until Security finds them). Officer Vanessa, Freddy, - is that Chica? - , and a small boy who triggers a Rule Breaker! message to flash before his eyes, are waiting anxiously on the other side. Huh. Eclipse wonders what the kid could have done to anger his alter egos enough to warrant this kind of alert.

“Hello friends! I’m afraid the daycare is closed right now,” he says diplomatically, just in case Vanessa is hoping he’ll babysit for her. He has his hands full with Cassy. And Helpy. And Roxy, for that matter…

“We know,” the boy tells him. He tries to peer around Eclipse and see inside the daycare.

“We were actually hoping you might’ve seen Roxy? Or a little girl? Or maybe both?” Vanessa explains.

Eclipse tilts his head curiously. How do they know about Cassie? “Actually, I-”

“Ut-Shay the oor-day!”

“What?” Eclipse has no idea what Helpy just said, or why he’s insisting on speaking gibberish. Maybe his system needs to be rebooted. That usually solves weird glitches.

“Shut. The. Door.” Helpy hisses, this time from inside Eclipse’s head.

Eclipse stares at him, then at the group on the other side of the door. “Er… one moment, please!” He says brightly, shutting the door before anyone can question his behavior (he’ll apologize for his rudeness later if he needs to). He marches away from the door and up to the monitor that Helpy has been spending most of his time hanging out in. “Okay. You need to explain what in the Fizzy Faz is going on. And it had better not be that you just really don’t like that kid. You know Corporate won’t let us deny entry to the daycare just because someone is a pain to deal with!” Eclipse glances anxiously back at the door, “and besides, I don’t think we can afford a second lawsuit in one day. This place is a mess, and I can’t imagine Cassie’s parents or guardians will be very understanding when they find out that their child almost died here today! And they shouldn’t be!”

“Yeah!” Helpy agrees, “And that’s exactly why you can’t let Officer Vanessa and the others in! That kid - Gregory - is the reason Cassie is hurt in the first place!”

[flambo19]

hey! im back! 2.3 story thoughts!

but before that I got e1s1 firefly :3 might go for e2 depending on how i feel

Found Family Stellaron Hunters My Beloved

Jade, Topaz, and Oti: Discussing shares and money or whatever the fuck. Me: *eating popcorn and understanding maybe half of it*

Getting an outside perspective on the Trailblazer's shenanigans was a treat. TB is no longer silent and is a menace

Loved the Firefly sections (what a surprise) and it was nice to see more of her thought process and attitude. She desperately wants to fight against her predetermined end and live the life she wants. She deserves everything including all my jades

Also! The Stellaron Hunters (or most likely Elio with the rest by association) follow the Finality! Pretty sure everyone expected this but. Wild!

The group chat was fantastic. I will never get over Ratio going "k" and then leaving immediately (and of course still helping later)

I got spoiled on the buttons being fireworks so the tension for Firefly's "sacrifice" was not really there but the cutscene? Beautiful. Can't believe SAM princess carrying the Trailblazer is now canon

The new song is really nice as well. Idk how to explain it but the start with the piano reminds me of Beyond the Sky from Xenoblade 1 lol

SILVER WOLF HIRED SPARKLE TO KEEP FIREFLY OUT OF DANGER SHES A FUCKING SAP I LOVE FOUND FAMILY STELLARON HUNTERS

The final goodbyes and toasts got me emotional. All the Astral Express having things to say, March's little speech, and Pom-pom's crying. I love the Nameless so much

Also the final page of the Penacony guidebook reveals that the writer was Razalina. I'm glad she got something since she was the Nameless with the least going on in the story

I apparently missed an interesting scene with Acheron because I pressed the wrong dialogue option... It sounds like it was a HI3 reference so maybe it wouldn't have meant much to me anyway

So Jade broke out Sunday because of a deal with Robin. They drill it into you that Jade has some pretty harsh deals so what did Robin give up then? I've seen the theory that Robin gave up the memories of/connection with her brother and 🥺 terrified of being hit with even more sibling tragedy

One hole in this is that Robin on the Express mentions Sunday. I know that these aren't super canon or anything but it feels like a discrepancy worth noting (note: i am coping)

And Stellaron Hunter Sunday is a pretty popular theory at this point. Wonder how that's all gonna go down and if it will even happen like that in the end. The possibility that he will decide to continue with his ideals and not change despite being beaten in with the power of friendship (and a train)? I'm honestly interested in the idea, it feels like the opposite of what people would expect

Trailblazer: I can fix him. Elio (or Jade?): Well I can make him worse watch this

Overall it really felt like a fitting send off to Penacony that also set up a bunch of stuff that can show up in future quests (which is exactly what I thought would be the case)

[ohmyitsfaith]

Happiness Actually, written by ohmyitsfaith and @ttheweirdguypp

Inspired by Love Actually, Happiness Actually follows the lives of six high school couples in dealing with their love lives in various loosely interrelated tales all set during a frantic year of high school, in China.

Table of contents

Chapter 1: Prologue

Start of something new

Chapter 2: Reaching out to you

Beginnings are always beautiful. Well, most of the time. Golden pair are in a beautiful relationship, Jingwu learns something he never thought was possible, Song Ci gets a gift from a mysterious person, alpha pair suffer from a decision that could end very badly, perfect pair are in a secret relationship, rival pair learn something about each other and Xinglong notices something he hasn't before.

Chapter 3: I am here for you

Some things are easier than others. And sometimes all we need is someone standing beside us and telling us "it'll be okay". Golden pair face some issues, Song Ci receives more mysterious gifts, alpha pair cook together, Zhuo Zhi starts to doubt Siyang's words, rival pair are still rival pair and A-Yan gets surprised by a late night visitor.

Chapter 4: No rest for the wicked

Things are sometimes easy, sometimes harder. It really just depends on who you're watching. Golden pair are happy together, Jingwu has some new thoughts that he doesn't understand, alpha pair go to a club, perfect pair enjoy a nice date together, but things go south for rival pair and Xinglong makes a new discovery.

Chapter 5: Cruel fate

There isn't a rainbow without a storm. And by now, everyone can attest to that. Golden pair face the facts, Song Ci and Ji Jingwu get into a misunderstanding, alpha pair deal with the results of their situation, Mu Siyang screws things up even more, Zhang Baiyang lies to his boyfriend, and A-Yan figures something out that turns his world upside down.

Chapter 6: Even the darkest stars shine bright

Even when it looks grim for your future, do not lose hope. Jiale seeks out Zhuo Zhi, who shares his sadness, Dayong gets help from his grandmother, Jingwu overhears the rumors, alpha pair say goodbye, Siyang packs up his suitcase, rival pair wallow in sadness and anger, and Xinglong and A-Yan get compared to a husband and wife.

Chapter 7: Of all the things

Of all the things, this had to happen? Well, when you're in a relationship, things tend to go a way you don't expect them. Golden pair seem to try to make amends while adorable pair fall deeper into the hole they dug themselves, alpha pair experience the meaning of weights falling off their chest, perfect pair continue their shenanigans, rival pair make up in their own way and Xinglong does something he didn't think he'd do.

Chapter 8: For you

The letter Siyang wrote for Zhuo Zhi

Chapter 9: True to myself

Staying true to your feelings and to yourself can sometimes be challenging. But sometimes all you need is a little push to get there. Golden pair kiss and make up, adorable pair talk things out, Shiting is recovering with his boyfriend there to support him, Zhuo Zhi races to catch Siyang before he leaves, Qiao Chen makes Baiyang explain what the hell happened and A-Yan finally reacts to Xinglong's confession.

Chapter 10: Everything to me

Everything is looking up for the moment, but something big is coming. Golden pair are happily together, adorable pair is enjoying their new relationship, Bai Shiting is overwhelmed by his boyfriend's worry, Zhuo Zhi tries to have a call with Mu Siyang, rival pair enjoy their lunch date and narrator pair navigate their new relationship

Chapter 11: News

Newspaper article announcing the meteor shower (that A-Yan read).

Chapter 12: Now you see me

Finally seeing things the way they are. And seeing people the way they are. Jiale goes on a shopping spree dragging Zhuo Zhi with him, adorable pair go on a date and pick up Zhuo Zhi from the mall, alpha pair spend some quality time together, Siyang is back from Germany, rival pair have a sleepover and our narrators talk things out.

Chapter 13: I love you

Love is one of the best feelings in the world. But maybe happiness is actually more important. Jiale goes through with his plan, adorable pair's plans get destroyed, Shiting learns something that's life changing, perfect pair finally reunite, rival pair are... rival pair and A-Yan surprises Xinglong.

Chapter 14: See you later

Every story must come to an end. But this isn't goodbye. It's see you later.

[50c14lly4nx10u5]

sometime a bit ago i decided to watch the back to the future cartoon for a *reason* and it was bad bad bad bad

so for one, right off the bat, marty is fuckinf HORRIBLW. he forgot to deink his respect women juice. like. one episode he got upset at jennifer for talking to another guy about tutoring and yells at her, cuz apparently she's not allowed to talk to any other guys??? and then he goes and flirts with a girl in pretty much every time he ends up in. jennifer you deserve better break up with him for good please stop forgiving him T^T

i already. fuckinf. shake in rage over the fact that characters ancestors are doppelgängers in this universe. it was bad enough in the main trilogy. first and second movie it was excusable. third movie was... questionable. the cartoon??? guys i think... uh... these families don't do a lot of mixing of the gene-pool. fucking royalty levels of incest or something, how many blood conditions do you think these guys have??? the tannen's are the worst of it because in every episode they make it a point to be like "ugh, not another tannen" and they always. look. the same. i'm actually half convinced people in this universe are able to reproduce asexually and since the tannens are horrible and therefore must get no bitches, they results to asexual means to continue the tannen bloodline in every generation, and therefore every generation there's a tannen clone

as a cartoon made in the... *checks internet* 90s, it is bound to not age well. especially dealing with time travel to before america was colonized. and uh. it didn't. there's one episode in particular i felt like ngggh. at least the colonialists were depicted as the bad guys? somewhat? not really... idk... it's not good...

it felt like the time travel rules changed on an episode to episode basis. and look nearly all media that deals with time travel ends up having this problem and it annoys the hell out of me but what can you do. any. one episode doc's youngest son, un, fern? i think? i searched it up it's verne. anyway he got lost in time. and they tracked him through time by watching,,, the newspaper change,,, every time he did something 😐. my guy that shouldn't work if it already happened in the past, the final result of the newspaper should have been stagnant, even before the guy went back in time. this itches at my very soul

the things i liked about this cartoon? ahhh errrm ehhmmmm... bill nye was at the end of every episode doing a demonstration of a science experiment you can do at home with a voice over explaining everything from doc??? yes i do want to make invisible ink with lemons, thank you bill nye and doc emmet brown you guys make science so cool 😔. also einstein the dog got cartoonified, meaning he now has human level intelligence and apparently has a time travel train conductor licence. or maybe he's doing it illegally because i don't think the doc's kids are... so be dog do crime ig. there is one episode centred around einstein defending the delorean from someone breaking in and trying to steal it, and does so all before doc comes back out from whatever errand he was doing idk

anyway 0/10 wanted more wacky time travel shenanigans with avoiding past selves boo (there was one episode where they could've had something SO GOOD, like 'marty wtf are you doing here and how tf do you know this child wAIT marty are you from the future!,!?!!?!?!!? you know how bad messing with the space time continuum can be!!!!' because marty and verne went to the day verne was born right, so he knew marty at that point in time and it would've been so interesting for doc to see marty then but they never ended up interacting. missed opportunity 🙄)

[erigold13261]

Been thinking of Failed Revolution AU a few years into the future where 1010 is no longer working for NSR and are living in the UK trying to overcome their trauma and basically start life over.

The idea that each one has their own baggage to deal with but slowly gets better is something I love to think about, but it also made me realize just how much Green had suffered.

Like yes, all of 1010 suffered, but they all had someone else to help them out or at least hang out with. Green had no one. Like technically he had Yinu, but she wasn't always able to visit because of Mama's hatred for 1010. Not to mention Yinu would just use Green as a person to vent to and so wasn't really someone Green could rely on.

Red and Yellow had each other. Blue and White had Neon J. Green could kinda rely on Blue, but both Yellow and White would constantly harass Green. Red was a total flake and even helped Yellow in this harassment (mainly because he was scared to be in Green's situation so he went along with Yellow's asshole-ery).

I just love the idea that 1010 try to move past the pain they had, but Green is the only one not healing. He doesn't have the energy or care to try and move on, even if things are objectively better for him now than they ever were working under NSR.

Yellow and White (not Sun and Silver) do their best to make it up to Green (not Fern), but it's just not working. Fern just stays in the rooftop garden or cleaning the shop/machines in their little family run candy shop.

Unlike the rest of 1010 who are trying to get educations, better jobs, make friends, Fern is just isolating himself and going throught the motions of life. Not caring to even try and heal (honestly if anything, he is still holding a lot of anger and pain towards the rest of 1010 for everything that happened, even if he isn't showing it).

Like Green didn't even have Neon J to fall back on. J was too busy wrangling Yellow in, scolding White, calming down Red, and putting more and more responsibilities and teaching moments onto Blue, that he just never even had time for Green (who for the most part seemed the most self sufficient and well behaved of all of 1010 in Neon J's eyes).

There's also the fact that if Neon J did have time to spend with Green, he was instead spending it either drinking or with Nova. To Neon J, there was no need to spend quality time with any of 1010 as he wasn't supposed to actually care for them (he did, but didn't want to admit that). And since Green was well behaved and not lashing out physically or emotionally, then Neon J didn't need to actually spend time with him (he did, but it was very rare and mostly cut short by the jealousy of the other 1010 members).

Anyway, I'm just rambling at this point. But I love the idea of exploring how each member of FRAU 1010 tries to heal from their time at NSR. I also like the idea of how White/Silver and Blue/Sky end up becoming friends with Ex-Jay and B2J in the future.

It is nothing like how the OG versions are, but it is something that helps them all get to a better place. Like closure (something that Green will definitely need at some point).

So yea. Just wanted to type this out. Been thinking about it for a few days (honestly probably a week now). I have 2 versions of this whole thought process.

One where there was a multiverse merge, where almost all my AUs combine into one like pocket of time universe. There my AUs meet and they see the different versions of themselves and learn how to be better people from seeing their flaws either reflected or called out. (and years down the line from this event it happens again just so the AUs can meet and see the progression everyone made lol)

The other is just where FRAU naturally continues without any silly multiverse shenanigans. Less self reflecting and a bit more serious, but still a bunch of good ideas.

Okay. Rambling basically over. Just really wanted to talk about Green and how his neglect and abuse will be something he doesn't get over for years, much longer than the rest of 1010 took to seemingly "get over" what happened to them.

[primamchorus]

SKG Shorts :: Unstained

Written during a transition for one of our FC RPs to help me set the stage for one of the arcs we were ending to push forward with a new one.

--

After having gathered the information she needed, Jaydin has a chat with one of her Knights' allies. Does she live in denial? Does she know who she is? Perhaps not, but at least she is willing to ask herself those questions. Even if the answer she may come to teases that feeling of fear.

Word Count: 1,981

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

Stress and the gravity of what had transpired there at the Frozen Star tavern hung around Jaydin’s neck like a stone that weighed a tonze, threatening to asphyxiate her. Her hands shook as she washed and scrubbed them of the blood that stained them. An elezen man with a stern expression on his face watched, his arms folded over his chest as he leaned against the entryway to the bar’s kitchen.

“One might be inclined to believe ye enjoy what ye’ve been doing, wot with the frequencies o’ the lad’s screams o’ pain,” the elezen said, reaching down into his apron and pulling out a steel cigar case and retrieving one of the cigars inside. The sound of a match being struck sounded, and then the scent of an earthy citrus smoke wafted within the limited space.

“I implore you not to get the wrong idea, Gregoire,” Jaydin replied, her voice holding some semblance of indignance. “I do what I feel I must if it means protecting my Knights and people. I derive no pleasure in causing pain and suffering unto others.”

“Could ‘ave fooled me,” Gregoire said, offering a small shrug as he took a drag from his cigar. He exhaled slowly, the scent of the smoke becoming more pungent in the air, and continued: “It gets hard ‘aving to cover for ye when the lad is disturbin’ me patrons. Can’t bring the lad to a proper chirurgeon in time, so we ‘ave one of our own that employs more traditional methods… shite like that gets ‘ard to maintain.”

“If it pleases you, I suppose we can use the Dzemael Darkhold for our future business?” Jaydin asked, wiping her hands with a washcloth. Blood stained even the cloth -- the bits Jaydin could not entirely remove from her hands without scrubbing her hands deeper. “I’m sure the voidsent that plague its labyrinthian corridors will be happier to deal with any trouble that we may come across. Or perhaps the threat of gold lung from Aurum Vale?”

“What’s it matter?”

“It doesn’t. Both places would see the quarry dead for their actions levied against mine and my own. I would rather draw out answers as best as I can.” Jaydin put the cloth down at the side of the washbasin that she had been using. “I didn’t want to have to do what I did to get any answers I wanted.”

“Ye’d use the Dzemael property fer yer own needs?” Gregoire ignored parts of the conversation and seemed almost amused by the idea as a small chuckle blew past his lips. “Yer either a whit on the reckless an' daft side, or ye really ‘ave friends in high places that don’t mind turnin’ a blind eye to yers and yer comrades’ shenanigans.”

Jaydin could really only give a shrug at the comment. There were plenty of things she was willing to do so long as it meant she had a place to do it away from prying eyes, or it could shake any noses off hers or other Knights’ tails. Myrddin’s wealth and status could really only pull so many strings without it coming off as odd or suspicious after some time. After all, Ul’dah’s wealthy had a way of not exactly being the most discreet of people at the end of everything.

Turning away from Gregoire and placing both of her hands at either side of the basin, the rogue stayed silent. Her mind raced a malm a minute with a lot of her considerations. She hated discussions similar to this. Each time felt like a trick, or just a test of moral integrity that she started to doubt herself on as time went on.

“Stained red, stained red…” Jaydin spoke, her voice quiet. “If it’s me or them, let them be dead.”

“What’s that?” Gregoire asked, squinting at the Hyuran woman a moment. He let out another exhale of smoke, tapping the ash off to the side of him.

“A creed, I guess you could call it. A selfish one, mind…” Jaydin explained as she looked off to the side. Her eyes scanned over labels of bottles that were stored away on the shelves in the small room that she stood in as she contemplated how to continue with her thoughts. “Ul’dah was never a friendly place to street rats -- if you’re not born wealthy, or with something that makes you valuable to someone, you’re left to rot. So… there was this group I used to be with. ‘Stained red, stained red’, they would start -- the words meaning the blood either on our hands or someone else’s. ‘If it’s me or them, let them be dead.’”

Jaydin’s shoulders heaved with another shrug as she recollected the phrase.

“Survival of one’s self and their own was important. Perhaps I had run with the wrong people at the time,” Jaydin said. “But after some time… losing people close to me, I decided that… ‘stained red, stained red… if it’s me or them, I’d rather be dead’ had a tone to it that I’d rather have taken on.”

Silence lingered, only the sound of the embers eating away at Gregoire’s cigar became audible when he took another long drag of it. He tapped it again, shaking loose the ash before exhaling and looking at Jaydin with a steeled gaze. After a couple seconds, he finally said: “but ye’ve killed the lad. Doesn’t quite sound like you live by your words.”

“A threat to those I consider my family is a threat I don’t take lightly.” The automatic response was made almost as if it were a simple matter in that respect. Even if the look in Jaydin’s eyes told a different story on that matter. “I didn’t like what I had to do. My hands have been long stained red, this I am aware of. If it’s my family or him, I’d rather him dead.”

Was it a reassurance to Gregoire, or herself? Jaydin was not quite sure any longer. Perhaps it was both at that moment.

All the rogue really knew was that she would do anything to keep her family -- her Knights -- alive. Sure, there was maybe some expectation that everyone knew what they were getting into when they accepted the invitation to become a Knight, but that mattered little to how Jaydin ultimately felt about each and every one of them after some time. Even if she did not express it well.

“Regardless, someone supplied the Hound with the device containing this ‘Black Rose’ substance. I’ll need eyes and ears that can find any leads on a ‘Master White’ -- someone that apparently has some ties to the Syndicate. Let me know if you find anything of interest, Gregoire. I’ll be contacting some old friends in Ul’dah to see if they can keep an eye on any of the associates to the Syndicate, or just the Syndicate itself.” Jaydin’s brow furrowed as she considered what she knew of the Syndicate when she lived in Ul’dah as well.

“It’s hard to believe that we’d ‘ave issues with ‘em,” Gregoire sounded mildly surprised. “What with the death of Teledji Adeledji. Though, I suppose there’s always concerns regarding Lord Lolorito Nanarito.”

“Yes, I agree…” Jaydin murmured in response. “Regardless, though, I’m not sure why the Syndicate would be interested in the production and use of Black Rose in any way. Unless they intend to incite civil war among Eorzea.”

Jaydin paused, her face betraying any hint of resolve in her words. Frowning, she continued, “I wouldn’t believe that to be the case. That would be foolish in the wake of our united efforts against the Garlean threat. There’s no benefit to anyone within the Syndicate unless there was a member that held a seat that was also a Garlean operative, but the seats are for Ul’dah’s wealthiest with the exception of General Aldynn, who got in within his own merit. Though I suppose his seat is free now, given his return to Ala Mhigo.”

Another bout of silence hung in the air before Gregoire suggested: “... lest the lad was havin’ one last gaff at ye. Insultin’ yer intelligence till the last. Given yer knowledge on the state of affairs in Ul’dah, ‘owever… I s’pose ye ‘ave yer own thoughts and pursuits that dictated that information enough.”

“It’s possible that he believed what he told me. If he has no knowledge of the Syndicate and how it operates, he could have been led astray. Given his nature, though, you may be onto something. Regardless, we do have a name, and we’ll have to look into it to see if it yields any significant results whilst staying vigilant in our efforts.” The subtle doubt in Jaydin’s voice was audible to her, much as it pained her to even admit in some small portion.

Jaydin’s chest and shoulders heaved with a sigh. There was still the matter of what Iwa reported she had seen as well the night that they had started interrogations on the Hound. Pursing her lips and weighing her options, she looked back to Gregoire and said to him, “make sure that you keep your eyes open around the area for anything suspicious. There’s no telling what that person was up to -- the one that one of my Knights reported seeing when we came to question the captive.”

“Aye… me lads an’ lasses around the area ain’t no strangers to keepin’ our wits about us. My people up within the Haillenarte and Fortemps guard ‘ave been notified to keep their eyes peeled. Though since the incident wit’ the heretics some while back before the end o’ the war, they’ve certainly been more on their toes when it comes to passing merchants an’ traders.”

Nodding in acknowledgement to what Gregoire said to her, Jaydin took in a breath -- woody, citrusy cigar smoke scents and all -- and then exhaled slowly. She had least had things to look into, and that was more than she would have gotten had she allowed the Hound to take his own life like he had twice before already. That she had been able to prevent this was a mercy in and of itself when it came to getting any information that they required.

The search continued, and would for as long as it needed.

“Well, if ye got no more business bein’ back ‘ere…” Gregoire said, breaking the silence as he took another couple puffs of his cigar. “Why don’t we get on back into the bar itself. I’ll get ye a drink. If yer really true to yer word on what ye said, ye probably need it, aye?”

“... A drink would be great, actually…” Jaydin replied, feeling a momentary wave of relief.

The bar was pretty much empty save for a single knight dressed in the colors for House Haillenarte who nursed a flagon of whatever was left of their ale. When Jaydin sat down at the bar counter, she pinched the bridge of her nose before moving her fingers to rub her eyes. As she kept her eyes closed even afterward, she could hear Gregoire pulling a glass out and putting it on the countertop before hearing him take a couple bottles to get the glass filled.

Finally looking at the glass as Gregoire was done getting it put together, she offered a small ‘thanks’ before taking it and inspecting it before drinking it. It was a creamy blend -- sweetened with honey, though packing a hard punch and burn to stave off the Coerthan cold at the end of its delight.

“Mm…” Jaydin gave a small sound of approval. “What do you call this, Gregoire?”

“Doesn’t ‘ave a name,” Gregoire said with a slight grunt. “But if ye want one, I dare say I’d call it an Unstained Hand.”

A moment after processing this, Jaydin gave an amused scoff behind an annoyed facade before continuing to drink the beverage.

[tigerlover16-uk-2]

You know the more I think about it the more I think this does highlight an issue with the manga in how there's precious little down time and we barely see Goku doing anything besides training when there's not a situation to deal with.

In the Super anime there's a lot of breathing room between most of the sagas and plenty of moments or whole episodes where Goku's just home doing things with his friends and family.

Going into town and getting roped into shenanigans briefly with Mr Satan, doing his farming job and trying to find ways to turn that into a convenient training session with Gohan and then going on a training trip with Krillin and Master Roshi when that doesn't work out, going to the movies, baseball matches with his friends and the U6 gang, babysitting Pan for an episode. And a bunch of other things.

There's frequent acknowledgements of how Goku cares about his family and supports his kids, and that even with his constant training trips it's largely for the benefit of fighting the next bad guy that shows up to cause trouble, which Goten and Gohan approve of and understand and even Chichi reluctantly accepts despite protesting when he's around and she thinks she can reign him in for a bit.

And we just... don't get stuff like that in the manga for the most part.

Even besides the obviously anime original plots between arcs, Toei generally adds interactions into the actual Toriyama plots. There's no bit in the manga where Goku agrees to sneak off and take Goten training with him on Beerus's planet and hanging out with him in town for a while, and then only not doing that when Goten decides to hang out and train with Trunks instead. He doesn't even have an actual talk with Gohan that entire arc, compared to the multiple interactions they have in the anime.

He doesn't interact with Goten and Chichi at all in the Future Trunks arc, or even the champa saga as far as I can recall. Instead of him getting furious at Goku Black for murdering Chichi and Goten in an alternate timeline, we just get a joke from him about how "Guess I'll have to avenge... myself"

It's just not there. Just like most of the supporting cast just aren't there most of the time, especially earlier on. It's only occasionally that we get manga original downtime moments where the cast just hang out and do stuff together that doesn't move the current plot along, like that one scene in the Future Trunks arc where everyone takes a break to play some video games.

Like this whole stupid joke about Goku forgetting Pan is something no one would even think to suggest writing into a script for the anime, because even though we don't get much direct interaction between Goku and Pan outside of episode 43 sadly, he's still in several scenes where she's also present throughout the show. He's still shown coming back home from training often and generally having a life with his friends and family outside of said training. So there's no way anyone would think it'd make sense he'd forget about her in that continuity.

But we never actually see Goku directly interact with Pan in the manga until now, so in Toyotaro's mind I guess that's believable.

Because here, training and dealing with whatever current event is going on really does seem to be the entire focus of his life, and if his family aren't currently involved in that, the manga just doesn't show them or what they're doing.

And I think that's always been why I just couldn't get into the manga even before Toyotaro really started going all in on the stupid moments and character derailments like this. Because Dragon Ball needs those down to earth moments and added character interaction to remind us why the big epic fights and the struggles to save the world matter, and that as much as fighting matter to them Goku and Vegeta and the others all have lives outside of it.

That’s it I’m fighting toyotaro

[h0tchner]

go team hotchner!

pairing: dad!aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: aaron is coaching jack’s soccer game & reader is in the crowd! aaron & reader are happily married, but another woman’s mean comments and blatant flirting makes the reader jealous. fluffy shenanigans ensue!

word count: 2.5k

includes: FLUFF, jack hotchner is the sweetest, you & aaron are married, jealous!reader, kissing, family planning, & AARON IN A GREY T-SHIRT

rating: 18+ (for VERY brief mentions of sex and a little smidge of cursing)

a/n: i wrote this for @ssahotchswife​’s soft hotch saturday! this is my first published fic, so i hope y’all enjoy. PLS (!!!!!!!!!!!) interact if you liked this, rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

“Atta boy, Jack!” Aaron yells from the side of the field, clapping his hands as his son scores another goal.

Beaming, you holler from the benches along with the crowd. You watch as your husband jogs up and down the sidelines with ease, keeping up with Jack’s soccer team. It’s a stunning Saturday morning and you are thrilled to spend every moment of it with the Hotchner boys. Your Hotchner boys.

When they asked Aaron to coach the team, how could he say no? After losing Hayley, he promised himself that he would do everything in his power to be there for Jack. When you first started dating, Aaron was hesitant to introduce you to his son. It wasn’t because he didn’t want you in Jack’s life, but rather he didn’t want to scare you away. You were a 26-year-old NCIS agent and he was a 40-something FBI agent. You knew he had a son, you knew he was a widow, and you knew he was older than you: but you didn’t care. You loved him. It took a little coaxing to get Aaron to open up to you about his fears, but once he did, you assured him then and there that you weren’t going anywhere. He introduced you to Jack the very same day. Four years later, you and Aaron are stronger than ever.

The ref blows the whistle, calling a break. Aaron motions for the kids to huddle in. He squats on the floor to get on their level, enthusiastically whispering, walking them through the next play. Your heart swells watching him talk to the group of children. Aaron Hotchner, always the hero, the role-model, the leader. Gentle yet powerful: he was intoxicating.

Your eyes dart over his crouched figure; the soft, heather grey of his t-shirt clings to his broad shoulders. You draw in a breath, a memory of last night flooding your senses, remembering how you held on to those shoulders for dear life as he pounded you into the bed. You feel your cheeks blush red, and you look up to the sky, shutting your eyes to collect yourself. Damn. Even just the thought of touching him gets your blood up.

You open your eyes, letting your gaze travel back to Aaron’s body, admiring how good his butt looks in those black Adidas track pants. You bite your lip a bit, feeling overwhelmed with joy, knowing that beautiful man, inside and out, was all yours. God, what you wanted to do to...

“Damn he is HOT. Way hotter than the old coach. I think his son is on the team?” A woman’s voice rings out from behind you.

“Yeah, I think so. Did you hear what happened to his first wife? So sad, lost her when his son was little. Apparently he’s shacked up with some 20-something-year-old now.” A second woman’s voice chimes in.

“No way. Him? Married to that? He needs a real woman, not some child. A man that experienced should be with someone his own age. I’m gonna talk to him after the game, see what his deal is.” The first woman replies, voice dripping with venom.

“I think you should!” Agrees the second.

“Oh, I will. I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse.” Snickers the first.

They both laugh as you sit frozen in your seat, blinded by a wave of anger and sadness.

Some child? Someone his own age? Their hurtful words pierce right through your heart as you furiously blink back tears.

The ref blows the whistle, and the team scatters back onto the field. The ladies cheer behind you as the game starts back up. It takes all your strength not to break down under the crushing weight of their conversation. You take in some deep breaths, mulling over their comments. You weren’t “some child!” You were a grown-ass woman! You had a job! You were a federal agent! You loved Aaron and Jack: they were your whole world!

As you continue to give yourself a mental pep-talk, the hurt begins to dissipate as you realize how stupid those woman sounded. They didn’t even know you, or Aaron, or anything about your relationship. In that moment, you tell yourself that instead of wallowing in self-doubt, you would stand up to them and make it known that you were the only one for Aaron.

Just like that: you begin to feel a bit better. You focus all your attention on Aaron and Jack, letting the game fly by. You ignore the ladies gossiping behind you, and, by the time the kids are lining up to give the other team high-fives, you had pulled yourself together and come up with a plan to put these ladies right back in their place. You just had to wait for the right time to make your move.

“Wish me luck!” squeals the first woman. You can feel her getting up from the bleachers behind you.

“Go get him, girl!” sasses the second.

You watch as the woman walks down the aisle, her straight blonde ponytail swishing as she goes. She’s wearing blue-jean shorts and a white lace top: an outfit you’ve seen before on a hundred women who looked just like her. In any other circumstance you’d applaud her efforts (girls supporting girls, right?) but this was your man she had her sights on. No way. Not a chance. She wasn’t going to lay a single pink manicured finger on him.

Aaron is talking to the ref and the other team’s coach when she taps him on the shoulder.

Oh HELL no. You think, frowning.

He turns around and gives her a small, polite smile. You can’t hear the exchange, but after a few moments, she sticks out her hand to shake his, laughing. Aaron curtly returns the shake and turns back to finish up his prior conversation; but, this time, the blonde woman puts a hand on his arm again, lightly pulling him away. Your blood begins to boil. She gestures to the pack of kids, now getting drinks and snacks from the fold-up table next to the bleachers. Aaron nods, pointing over to where Jack is standing, sipping on some lemonade. She puts her hand on his arm again and tilts her head.

You decide it has been long enough. It’s go time.

You walk down the bleachers, picking up the hem of your baby blue floral sundress so you wouldn’t step on it as you descended.

The woman is still all over Aaron, clearly flirting. Aaron’s arms are crossed over his chest, lips in a terse smile. It didn’t take a profiler to know that his behaviour screamed “get me out of here.”

You fluff your hair a bit, letting it fall loosely around your face. With confidence, your feet hit the soft grass and you head towards your husband.

“Aaron!” you call out, waving and smiling as you near him, shooting daggers at the blonde woman by his side.

The moment he sees you approaching, you watch his entire demeanour change.

“Y/N!” he grins, excusing himself from the woman.

She whips around to face you with a vengeance as Aaron scoops you up, tanned arms firm around your middle. He spins you around as you laugh, surprised, looking down at him with pure elation.

He sets you down and, before you have a chance to say anything else, grabs your face in his hands, crashing his mouth into yours. You throw your arms around his neck and card your fingers in his hair, kissing him with the same fervour.

You can practically feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins. It’s hot and dominating: something about winning a game makes Aaron primal and giddy. You certainly aren’t complaining.

He breaks the kiss and lets his hands fall to your waist, squeezing lightly.

“Congrats on the win, Coach Hotchner.” You smile as you brush a lock of sweaty black hair off his forehead.

“Couldn’t have done it without my favourite cheerleader, Mrs. Hotchner.” He winks, pressing a light kiss to your forehead.

“Oh yeah?” You prod, cocking your head, looking into his gorgeous hazel eyes. “Who would that be?”

“Hm.” He pauses, looking up pensively.

He wraps his arms even tighter around your middle and dips his head down, whispering one word in your ear: “You.”

You laugh, swaying with him for a moment, capturing his lips in another kiss. As you pull apart, out of the corner of your eye you watch as the blonde woman stands frozen to the same spot, mouth agape. You smirk, feeling satisfied and self-assured knowing your little scheme was a success.

Then, like a rocket, you see Jack running towards you with a mile-wide grin on his flushed face.

“Y/N! Did you see? Did you see me make two goals?” Jack exclaims.

“Yeah buddy, I saw the whole thing!” You capture him in a bear hug, kissing the top of his head. You ruffle his hair and kneel down, looking into his soft brown eyes.

“I’m so proud of you. Did you have fun?”

“Yeah! I love soccer!” Jack nods.

“You did a great job Jack.” Aaron says, helping you stand. He wraps an arm around your waist and looks lovingly down at his son.

“You’re our soccer superstar.” You add, glancing between Jack and Aaron with unbridled joy. “Now go! Go back to your friends!” You laugh, shooing him away, back to the group of sweaty 8-year-olds and their snacks.

You stand there with Aaron, snaking your arm around his back to match his around yours. You both watch as Jack bounds off. A quick glance to the side shows that the blonde woman is long gone, probably stomping back up to her friend to whine and call you more names.

“Is she gone?” Aaron murmurs into your hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your head.

You stutter, “How... how did you?” You trail off in disbelief.

“Oh please,” he smirks, “I had to stop you from practically biting her head off when you walked over.”

“Aaron!” you yelp, mocking upset. “You should’ve let me at her.”

He chuckles, lips twitching into a smile as he quirks one eyebrow up. “I couldn’t have my wife fighting with the aunt of one of my players. It’d reflect poorly on me.”

“She called me a child. Said that you should be with someone your own age. I think that warrants a free pass.”

His joking manner stops abruptly at your declaration. “That’s ridiculous and you know it,” he furrows his brow, shaking his head lightly.

You reach up and run your fingers over his scrunched forehead, soothing the lines into something softer.

“I know,” you nod.

Aaron pulls you into his side, wordless. Fingers tracing lightly over your hip. You knew he was thinking the same thing: no matter what they said, you knew in your heart that you and Aaron were meant to be. Age be damned. He was yours and you were his: forever. Simple as that.

“Mmm,” you sigh, taking in the beauty of the moment. You smile at the clear sky, the fresh air, and the feeling of the man you loved, right by your side. You two watch Jack as he talks and laughs with the other kids. He looks so happy to be surrounded by them: a natural conversationalist. You can’t help but start to think about how he would be the best big brother in the whole world. It makes your breath hitch in your throat a bit.

“What is it?” Aaron gives your side a squeeze.

Of course he could sense when your thoughts began to wander. Aaron was a man of many talents.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” You look up at him with a reassuring glance, returning the squeeze.

“Y/N...” Aaron trails off, hazel-brown eyes searing into yours.

Damn your gaze, Hotchner.

You look away, letting your arm drop from his waist and move to step away a bit: he grabs for your hand instinctively, keeping you next to him. His big hands engulf your small ones, fingers entwined.

You know he is still staring at you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him yet. Your eyes refocus on Jack.

“I was... I was thinking,” you begin. “I love you. I love you so much, no matter what anybody else says. And I love Jack like he’s my own.”

You breathed in, prepping yourself mentally for what you were about to say next.

“Jack is so good with other kids.” You continue, “He loves being social, being a teammate.”

You gather the strength to meet your husband’s famous glare.

“And watching you coach these kids? You’re so good with them, Aaron. You make every one of them feel special. You give 110% of your heart, and I am so lucky to be your co-coach in life.” You tell him in earnest.

“Aaron,” you carry on, emboldened, “I think it’s time we added a new member to the Hotchner team” you finish, searching every inch of Aaron’s face for recognition.

You watch as he takes in the information. After a few beats, it clicks.

“Y/N,” his expression softens, “Do you want to have a baby?”

You bite your lip and nod, eyes wide and hopeful.

Aaron nearly explodes with happiness; his eyes crinkle as he smiles down at you, unable to speak. And then, his warm body envelopes yours, solid but soft: unmistakably Aaron.

You let out a shaky laugh and bury your head in his neck, breathing in the smell of cologne and light sweat.

He pulls back a little, one hand tilting your chin up to look at him.

“Oh my god, Y/N,” he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Does that mean yes?” you ask, in a small voice.

Aaron laughs again, letting out a sigh. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his hand linger on your cheek. You lean into his touch.

“Yes,” he says, giddy. “Let’s have a baby.”

The sound of children laughing fills your ears as you grab the back of his head and pull Aaron into a soft kiss. The kiss is full of promise: a gentle pact, sealing the deal. You and Aaron were going to have a baby. Jack was going to have a little brother or sister.

You pull away, arms still around his neck.

“I love you, Aaron.” You breathe out.

“I love you, Y/N.” He whispers back.

Nobody on this planet could shake the bond you and Aaron had. Suburban soccer moms be damned.