#would be very nice to see them one last time

[mysterywriter2187]

Dean's attempts to dismiss criticism for separating Nani and Lilo has a lot of bullshit and ignorant logic to it, but this particular explanation is by far the stupidest.

Nani having no remaining family or trusted neighbours or friends to take Lilo in wasn't a plot hole for the remake to fix. It's the whole fucking reason there's even a conflict about Lilo's custody in the first place.

In the original film, the threat of Cobra possibly taking Lilo away and putting her in the foster system isn't just Nani being sad and sentimental that she can't see her sister anymore (like the remake implies).

It's the very real danger of a vulnerable (and heavily autistic-coded) indigenous little girl being sent against her will to live with complete strangers, who may not understand or accept her individuality, abuse her or God knows what else. And neither Nani or Lilo herself have any say in the matter.

If Nani did have a close friend, neighbour or even another relative that could look after Lilo on behalf, that would have been the first option well before Cobra and child services ever got involved. Which is exactly why the original film includes no such character.

Which is where the issue of Tūtū and the new ending in the remake comes in.

If Tūtū is able to talk to the social worker at the last minute and arrange to become Lilo's guardian, then it can only mean that was able to do so the entire time, yet she inexplicably chose not to, even when knowing full-well what was at stake and seeing for herself how the sisters were struggling. And from Nani's evident surprise in the ending, Tūtū clearly never even entertained this idea to her at any point before springing it on her here.

Even worse, since Nani has been forced to surrender Lilo to the state, rather than giving her custody to Tūtū directly, the state now has full freedom to change their minds and send her where and whenever they want, and neither Nani nor Tūtū would have the power to do anything about it.

Which, again, wouldn't have been an issue if this really nice, caring and loving neighbour, who is definitely a good character that we should like and root for, had stepped in for Lilo and Nani as soon as their parents died. But because the rest of the plot still has to follow the original (despite her presence radically changing the circumstances) she just… didn't do that. So now this new solution is too little, too late, and the film ends with virtually nothing changing for Nani and Lilo's dilemma compared to the start of the film.

Nani surrendering Lilo to the state is already a horrible ending regardless of who she goes to, but the very existence of Tūtū as a character actively undermines the rest of the story, and it ironically creates a major plot hole where they were trying to amend a non-existent one.

Oh, and by the way, Dean. Y'know the whole thing about how an auntie or uncle could have stepped in to help the sisters?

They did get an auntie and uncle in the original, but you made one of them irrelevant and you made the other one the villain for no reason!

[janeyseymour]

Drinks and Jealousy

Summary: It takes one flirty woman at the bar for Melissa to finally make a move on you.

WC: ~3.9k

When you start at Abbott Elementary, you try to keep to yourself and stay as professional as possible. When you start at Abbott Elementary, you don’t expect to become a part of that little core team that the principal adores. When you start at Abbott Elementary, the very last thing that you expect to do is fall for the redheaded second grade teacher that everyone warns you about.

As your time at Abbott Elementary continues though, you find that you end up doing everything you said you wouldn’t.

Since the beginning of the school year, you’ve shown to work each and everyday with a travel mug filled to the brim with coffee and a smile. Adorned in respectable teaching clothes and hair done nicely, makeup on, you choose to keep to yourself. Sure, you sit in on staff meetings and offer your opinions when asked, but that’s about it. Other than that, you eat in your classroom for lunch, you stick to your lesson plans, and you never pry about your coworkers’ outside lives. It’s not your business what they’re up to, and it certainly isn’t their business what you decide to do in your free time. You hear the talks of the school, but you don’t participate in any conversation or gossip. Why would you? You have a job to do, and it is certainly not to wrap yourself up in workplace drama.

But then one day you decide to bring something that needs to be heated up in the microwave, and you have to venture out of your little safe space and into the staffroom. As you walk through the halls, you make a mental note to bring that extra microwave that you have at your apartment to school.

“Y/N!” you hear one of your more cheery coworker’s voices. “You decide to come down for lunch today?”

You shrug and offer a friendly wave. “Just have to use the microwave.”

You see the way that she shrinks down just slightly before perking back up. “You should join us for lunch!”

“I really should be getting back to my room to do some work,” you try to decline politely.

“It’s lunch time, kid,” you hear a lower, more gruff, voice tell you. “Don’t burn yourself out.”

“I won’t, I just have to-”

“There will always be some sort of excuse. Don’t do that to yourself,” Melissa tells you again. “You’ll burn out, and we can’t afford to have any more half-decent teachers leave because they try to do too much at first and find they can’t keep up with it all.”

As the microwave goes off and you pull your meal out, you turn to the redhead. When you expect her to be snarky and look as though she couldn’t give half a shit though, you see how genuine she is in her statement. And so, with somewhat of a heavy sigh, you give into their simple request and join them for lunch.

What you don’t realize is that one little action will become a ritual for you- something that becomes a part of your routine. On the rare day that you genuinely are up to your eyeballs in lesson plans and paperwork and can’t make it down to the staff lounge, you feel miserable. At that point, you yearn for the thirty relaxing minutes that you get during your work day.

Slowly, you become a part of their little group. They begin to include you in more conversations not based around school and work, and you find that you don’t necessarily mind them asking you about your personal life. It’s interesting to learn what you do about them as well.

You make your way into the staff room one day for lunch, only to see a substitute sitting in your unofficial assigned seat at the table with Jacob, Gregory, and Janine. You pop your food into the microwave and look around curiously, trying to figure out where you should sit today or if you should just head back to your classroom.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the beeping of the microwave and the sound of a chair being kicked out by none other than Melissa Schemmenti.

“Sit with us today,” the second grade teacher smiles and gestures to the chair. Silently, you oblige her request. From that day on, you claim your place among the two veteran teachers.

As time goes on, you finally decide to accept their invitations to events and gatherings outside of work. You find that you quite like being in their company. Everyone is a little different, has their quirks, and generally just exists together. The group somehow works despite everyone having such different personalities.

And as even more time passes, you find yourself leaning on Janine for emotional support. The two of you grow quite close- you would even venture to say after some time that she’s your best friend. You’re more than happy for her when she and Gregory finally get together- going as far as giving him the best friend spiel about how if he hurts her, you’ll find a way to make sure he was never born. 

You tell him that you know a guy, to which he snorts.

“The guy you know is Melissa,” Gregory laughs.

Seemingly out of nowhere, the woman in question appears next to you. She lays a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Yeah, and I know a while ago I said I’d only kill for Barb, but I think I’d kill for any o’ youse now.” She frowns. “Shit, I’m getting soft.”

“You’ve been soft,” you tease her.

“Only for you,” she mumbles. And then she’s off to do whatever it does that Melissa Schemmenti does. You can’t help but follow her with your eyes as she goes.

Janine turns to you. “Okay,” she whispers excitedly. “So now that I got my head out of my ass, when are you going to get your head out of yours?”

“What?”

“When are you finally going to admit that you have a thing for Melissa?” the second grade teacher bounces on her toes. “We could go on double dates!”

You chuckle. “Even if we did ever get together, I don’t know that she would want to go on double dates.”

“So,” your friend completely misses what you just said. “You do have a thing for Melissa?”

You sigh heavily. “Even if I did,” you mumble so only she can hear. “I doubt that someone like her would have a thing for me.”

And then you walk away from the conversation in favor of actually getting something done in your classroom.

You don’t know that one little quip of yours has Janine’s brain going a mile a minute with ideas of how to get the two of you together.

“Janine, I think that they’ll figure it out eventually,” Gregory states over dinner one night. “If we could figure it out, so can they.”

“So you agree that they like each other?”

The man nods firmly. “Even a blind person… or Jacob, could see that.”

“Then we have to help push them along! Like Jacob did for us,” Janine argues.

Gregory sighs quietly. “Maybe we could just keep going out all as a group. I’ve noticed that the two of them seem to gravitate towards each other when we’re all out.”

“Yes!” the second grade teacher grins and claps her hands enthusiastically.

And so, the gang has many outings in hopes that the two of you will finally just pull your shit together. There are days at the bar, more karaoke outings, a few get togethers at a coworker’s house. The two of you always seem to be seated together, and if you aren’t initially at her side, someone moves in order for you to sit next to her. Nothing ever happens though.

But then one night, you’re out at Ruby’s. And when you sit down at the bar and Melissa runs to the bathroom upon her entrance, another woman very clearly eyes you up.

“You come here a lot,” the woman tells you as she sets her bag down next to you.

You turn on your stool. “Oh, uh, yeah.” Wow. She’s really pretty. “With my work friends.”

“Just friends?” she asks. At your nod, she continues. “I’ve been wanting to come over and say hi, but I couldn’t tell if you were with the redhead or not.”

“Oh,” you chuckle softly, cheeks tinting red. “That’s not… no. We’re just, uh-“ you cough a bit awkwardly. “Friends.”

“So, it’d be alright if I bought you a drink?”

You bite your lip a bit nervously. “I suppose that would be alright.”

“Mika,” the woman smiles at you charmingly before waving over the bartender and ordering. The drinks are made, and then you’re being handed yours with a warm smile.

You speak with Mika for a bit before Melissa emerges from the bathroom and over to your side. Her eyes narrow immediately when she sees how close this new, gorgeous, woman is to you.

“Hey,” you smile at your favorite coworker gently.

“What’s this?” the second grade teacher asks through practically gritted teeth.

You introduce the two. “I was just waiting for you when she came over to talk to me.”

“Interesting,” Melissa nearly snarls out. “Well, I guess if you’re ever done flirting, I’ll be over with our friends.” She storms off.

“Are you sure the two of you aren’t together?” Mika asks as her eyes follow in the direction of loud boots against the floor.

You nod your head once as you watch the redhead make her way over to your group of friends.

“What’s making you look like someone told you your gnocchi wasn’t good?” Janine asks.

“Is it that very pretty woman flirting with Y/N?” Barbara asks knowingly.

Melissa’s eyes squint as she looks over to you and Mika. “Hmm. I don’t think I noticed that woman there before.”

“Like Hell you didn’t see her,” Barb calls her friend out. “You spoke to them, and then you should’ve seen your face when you turned around to come over to us.”

“Well, now I’m pissed that I forgot to order a drink,” the redhead huffs out.

“And would that be because you were distracted by your blinding jealousy?” Jacob cuts in.

“Shut up, Hill.”

“I’d love to stay and chat with you,” Mika tells you as she lays a gentle hand over your arm. “But I think your friends are waiting for you.” She points in the direction of your table. All of your coworkers are practically staring at the two of you. Melissa’s eyes look like stone. If looks could kill, you’d both be dead.

“I guess I should go over there,” you half chuckle, half sigh. “But it was really nice talking to you, and thank you again for the drink.”

“Of course,” your new friend smiles.

You go to turn away and head for your friends, but you notice that your favorite redhead doesn’t have a drink in her hand. You turn back to the bar, and you don’t know it, but the second grade teacher clenches her fists and locks her jaw when she thinks that you’re going to stay with Mika. Instead, you order Melissa her preferred drink, receive it, and head over to your colleagues. You settle in next to Melissa with a smile on your face, and you can see the way that she physically relaxes when you hand her her drink.

“Thanks, hun,” the second grade teacher sighs softly.

“You know I always have you,” you tell her quietly.

“Do you think Mika worked?” Jacob asks Janine once they finally get a moment alone.

“We all saw how pissed Melissa was while she was talking to her,” the shorter teacher grins. “I can’t believe our plan might work.”

“And it only cost me to buy her her drinks for the night!” the social studies teacher exclaims.

You see the way that Mika’s eyes linger on you the entire night- how she wants to come over and steal you away from Melissa. But you also notice how the redhead constantly has her eyes on the pretty woman across the bar; how she’s staring daggers at the woman and daring her to come over so Melissa can fight. You notice the way that your coworker has her hands all over you at any given time.

Maybe it’s the drinks that are giving the second grade teacher this confidence. That’s what you let yourself believe in the midst of your somewhat drunken haze. You also allow yourself to enjoy it- to pretend that this is what your life is: having the most beautiful woman at the bar hanging off of you and making you feel like you’re the only thing that’s ever mattered in this world.

Soon though, your bladder wins out the fight of wanting to dance with Melissa all night or use the restroom. You excuse yourself with a smile and a promise to bring back another drink while the redhead tells you that she’ll keep your spot on the dance floor open.

Y/N, Jacob texts Mika. Bathroom. Go.

Janine takes over. Get her number and wait to text until she’s back with Melissa to fuel the fire.

And so the woman does. She slips into the bathroom and pretends to fix her makeup as she waits for you. And when you come stumbling out of the stall, you see the pretty woman that bought you a drink earlier in the night.

“Funny running into you,” you chuckle as you wash your hands.

“Almost like it’s fate,” Mika tells you suavely. Oh if only you knew how orchestrated this meeting was. “Since we’re here again and I didn’t have the courage to ask earlier, do you think I could get your number?”

You blush. “Oh, I don’t know. I uh-“ you stumble over your words. “I honestly probably shouldn’t have even accepted that drink from you.”

“Why’s that?” Warm eyes meet your own with fake curiosity. She knows exactly why.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I kind of, uhm… the redhead you thought I was with? I kind of have a thing for her.”

Mika’s face falls just slightly, despite grinning on the inside. She just got you to admit that you have feelings for Melissa. “Well, you told me that there wasn’t anything going on there, so… why don’t you give me your number and I can text you? And if you regret it tomorrow, all you have to do is text me and tell me that it isn’t going to work out. How about that?”

Your cheeks turn red as you toy with the idea in your head. “Uhm… I guess that would be okay.”

The woman hands you her phone with a smile, and you clumsily put your number in.

“I’ll text you,” Mika promises you with a wink, and then she’s off and back to the club.

The pretty woman that you met twice tonight does indeed text you. She texts you as your dancing with Melissa. Your watch goes off with the notification, and you glance at it. Green eyes look at it too. 

“Who’s texting you?”

“Mika,” you say as you continue to dance to the music.

“Who?” The redhead removes her hand from your body and halts her own dancing.

“The woman from earlier,” you say, although it sounds like more of a question. “I ran into her in the bathroom, and she asked for my number.”

The woman in front of you frowns. “I need another drink.”

“I just got you one,” you point out.

Melissa downs it in one go. “I need another one.” 

She walks away from you, leaving you entirely confused on what just took place. With a sigh, you make your way back to the table that some of your friends are still occupying.

“Done dancing for the night?” Barbara asks you.

You nod, wiping a bit of sweat from your forehead. “I think I’ll stick around to finish this drink, and then probably head out.”

And you do. Once you finish your mixed drink, you make your rounds and go to head out on your own.

“You’re really going to let her go by herself?” Jacob asks Melissa as she watches you go.

“I ain’t done my drink,” the redhead grumbles. She sips from it slowly.

“What if something happens to her?” Barbara asks.

“So why don’t you go?” the second grade teacher mutters.

“Gerald’s on his way already,” the kindergarten teacher states. “Just go.”

“Fine.” Melissa downs her drink and then follows in your direction. On the small trek to the outside, the woman makes up her mind- she’s going to tell you how she feels tonight. But by the time she gets outside, she sees you getting into an Uber, and she sighs with defeat. She turns back into the bar.

“She already left,” the redhead says quietly as she sits back down next to her friend. “But I think I’m going to call an Uber for myself anyway.”

“Would you like a ride, dear?” Barbara offers her best friend.

“It’s fine,” Melissa waves her off. She doesn’t want the woman to know that she isn’t actually going to head back to her own house. No- she’s going to get a ride to your little townhouse.

You’ve just finished brushing your teeth when you hear your doorbell ring. It’s best not to answer though- not when you’re home alone. So, you ignore it. Only then you hear whoever is at your door begin to knock rather aggressively. Slowly, you make your way to your room and grab your phone and the baseball bat that you keep by your bed. And then of course, because in the middle of someone trying to get into your house, your phone begins to ring loudly. Quickly, you glance at the device, and.. why is Melissa trying to call you?

“Melissa, I can’t talk right-”

“Will you just come open your door?” the redhead asks rather aggressively.

“Th-that’s you?” you stutter out.

“Yes! Who else would be pounding on your front door at this hour?”

With your bat in hand, you go to your front door and lo and behold, Melissa is standing on your front step. You open the door as you lower the bat.

“H-hey,” you breathe out a sigh in relief. “Wh-what? Why are you here?”

“Don’t go out with that woman,” the redhead tells you urgently.

You know in your heart that you were going to let her down easy tomorrow anyway, but you can’t stop the question from spilling out of your mouth. “Why?”

“Because…” Melissa forces herself to take a deep breath. And then before you know it, her arms are wrapped around your neck and her lips are on your own. When the two of you pull back, the woman continues. “I want you to go out with me. Not her. Me.”

“Are- are you being serious?” you ask nervously. “Because I always thought that… that you wouldn’t want someone like me.”

“I don’t want someone like you. I just want you.”

The next morning, Melissa is right next to you, and nothing has ever felt this right.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” you whisper as you kiss her softly.

“I’m here,” the redhead smiles. “I do think though that we shouldn’t tell our work friends yet about… this. Give us some time to adjust.”

“I agree.”

“I also think you need to text that girl that was trying to hit on you last night and tell her you’re off the market now.”

So, with Melissa in your bed, you text Mika.

Hey. It really was great meeting you last night. But I don’t think it’s going to work out. The redhead and I… we ended up getting together last night.

The text back is almost immediate. Hey, that’s great for you. Best of luck.

And then Mika opens up the text thread with Jacob and Janine. Your friends finally got their heads out of their asses.

You’re the best, Jacob responds. Thanks for your help!

Janine responds with a series of emojis that show just how excited she is about this.

On Monday morning, you’re sitting in the staff lounge as you usually do. It’s nice and the calm you need before the storm that you (lovingly) call your students. Nothing is out of the ordinary really. You just sip your coffee from your mug as you look through your plans for the week. The only difference is that every so often you glance up from your laptop and papers to steal small glances at your now girlfriend. You can’t help but smile each and every time.

But then the bell rings to signal the beginning of the school day, and you sigh. Still though, there seems to be this glow around you, and you have a pep in your step that usually is only reserved for Friday afternoons when you can see the weekend.

Monday afternoon, you have a staff meeting to sit through. It goes by as each one does, although you can’t find it in you to even pretend that you’re listening. Instead, you spend your time trying to figure out how much you can look at the redhead without it being obvious.

When you’re dismissed from whatever Ava was droning on about, you gather your things and head back to your classroom to pack your things for the day. What you don’t know is that while Melissa is walking out of the library, Janine jogs to catch up with her.

“Hey, congrats on the two of you getting together,” the shorter teacher says. “I wanted to tell Y/N congrats too, but she kind of booked it out of here.”

Melissa rolls her eyes with a fondness. “I told her not to say anything yet.”

“She’s my best friend,” Janine tells the redhead. “She doesn’t need to say anything. I can just feel that she’s happy. I don’t even need to see her to know.”

“She didn’t tell you? Really?”

“Nope,” Janine pops her ‘p’. “I can just tell.”

“Well, thanks kid,” Melissa smiles. “Don’t say nothin’ though. I gotta run too. The two of us are having dinner at my house tonight.” With those words, she’s off.

Jacob finds his smaller friend a few seconds later. “So, what Mika said is true?”

“Melissa confirmed it herself,” Janine grins.

“It’s about damn time the two of them pulled their heads from their asses and started dating,” Jacob smiles as he high fives the second grade teacher. 

That night, over dinner, Melissa tells you that Janine knows about your relationship.

“How? I didn’t tell her, did you?”

“She told me that she could just tell that you’re happy,” the redhead sighs.

You hum. “I am happy with you. I can’t believe it took another woman flirting with me for you to make a move.”

“I guess if we ever see her out again, we’ll have to thank her for helping us get here,” Melissa laughs. 

Oh, if only the two of you knew that Jacob and Janine were the masterminds behind the two of you finally getting together- that Mika only came to flirt with you to make Melissa jealous because of them. But for now, they keep it a secret. 

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead @schemmentits @eliscannotdance 

[sargebarnesx]

Long Distance ✈️

Pairing: Bob Floyd x female reader

Rating: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, MDNI

Warnings: Once again, smut with plot. Solo masturbation, mutual masturbation, FaceTime Sex, language. Bob has a filthy mouth.

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Bob Floyd is in a long distance relationship and can’t stand it. One night, something snaps.

Author's Note: Just a little something I wrote and edited today. Also, I know next to nothing about the inner workings of the military/Navy so please suspend your beliefs for a bit here 😂 Hope y'all enjoy! (Banner photos are from Pinterest)

FaceTime was a lifesaver when it came to long-distance relationships.

Bob Floyd had always told himself he would never do long distance - he didn’t think he could handle it. He wasn’t clingy, necessarily, but he preferred to see his girl multiple times a week (okay, okay, every day if possible).

Long distance just didn’t appeal to him. But when he fell for a fellow aviator, he knew it would be inevitable.

Their romance was a whirlwind. Shy at first, but once he finally kissed her, they didn’t hold back. She was at his apartment more often than her own. Sneaking around wasn’t ideal (not that they had to, they just wanted to keep things private), but that was the last thing on his mind when she was curled against him on his couch after a long day. He had never realized how nice it would be to have someone to come home to - someone who understood the weight of the responsibilities the mission carried - until he was with her.

She was one hell of a pilot: sharp as a tack and quick on her feet, a force to be reckoned with. But what really impressed Bob was the person she was outside of work. They quickly became a duo, a team - a picture of domesticity. She felt like home to him.

But, like clockwork, she was reassigned once their mission was complete, along with a handful of their other colleagues.

Two different coasts. Two different time zones. One couple slowly turning into two completely different people.

She was stationed in Pensacola while he stayed in San Diego, his orders extended rather than changed completely. They were beautiful areas with perfect beaches, and the Navy roots ran deep. But neither could quite sow seeds without the other.

Bob knew she was adjusting well after the move. She loved Florida - but she hated the time difference. Two hours might not seem like much to most people, but to them, it was challenging. She’d already been at work for several hours by the time he was waking up, which meant no good morning chats. He was usually able to catch her in the evening, when he was eating dinner and she was in the middle of her nighttime routine. But Bob didn’t always want to say goodnight at 7:30 p.m.

He wouldn’t admit it to her, but he was struggling.

He hadn’t seen her in months. Hadn’t kissed her. Hadn’t felt her skin beneath his hands. He was going crazy.

Sure, he had photos of her - videos, too - but nothing compared to the real thing. Waking up wrapped around her pillow instead of her left him disappointed every morning. And he didn’t even want to begin to try to compare her hands to his.

Around noon that day, just as he sat down with a sandwich for lunch, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

Baby ✈️🩵

Unexpected day off tomorrow. FaceTime tonight?

Bob stared at his phone screen. An unexpected day off meant she could stay up later with him. She was usually very disciplined during the week, which he respected, but he hated the quiet of the night after they ended their call and she went to bed. At this point, though, he’d take what he could get.

He typed back a quick of course, baby before turning back to his lunch.

**********

That evening, when Bob trudged into his apartment, he was extremely tense. A lot of things had gone wrong for him today, which was unusual. He couldn’t concentrate on the tasks at hand - he was tripping over his own feet. He was so wired, it felt like he had jet fuel pumping through his veins.

He knew why he was like this. And he knew there was nothing he could do about it - at least, not yet.

She was all he’d been able to think about. He kept daydreaming about her, imagining seeing her in the hangar, her hair flowing free and her flight suit half unzipped.

It didn’t help his current state that, in his daydream, she was wearing absolutely nothing under her flight suit - and she ripped the zipper open as soon as she saw him.

He’d fantasized about bending her over, right then and there, and railing her like they had no other cares in the world. About how good her perfect pussy (one he hadn’t had in months) would feel wrapped around him. He was going insane.

After he washed up in the shower, he stared at the row of products she’d left behind when she shipped out: shampoo, conditioner, cream body wash, face wash, a body scrub. He grabbed the bottle of body wash and squeezed a dollop into his palm. He lathered it up, closed his eyes, and held his hands up to his nose.

It was like she was there with him - the overwhelming scent of coconut and vanilla enveloping him, affecting all of his senses. He could see her standing under the spray of water, her hair plastered to her body as soap streamed down her curves.

He wrapped his soapy hand around his cock, dragging it from base to tip over and over, his eyes scrunched so tightly shut he saw stars. Just as he was about to cum, his phone rang on the counter and snapped him out of his daze.

It had to be her. How long had he even been in here, wasting their time together? He quickly rinsed off and wrapped a towel around himself before reaching for his phone.

Her name lit up the screen - Missed FaceTime Call. He tapped her name to call back. The phone rang only once before she picked up.

“Hi,” she called out.

His phone was still facing the ceiling as he dried off. “Hi, baby. Sorry, I was in the shower. Let me pull on some shorts real quick.”

Bob hung up his towel and pulled on a pair of soft sweat shorts. He grabbed his phone and settled onto his bed, forgoing his glasses on the nightstand.

She was also on her bed, dressed in a light gray cropped tank and matching shorts. Her hair was damp, like she’d just finished a shower too. The sight of her made his chest ache.

She smiled when she saw him. “Hi,” she said again, laying back on her pillows. From this angle, he could see a flash of her stomach. He wanted nothing more than to have his hands on her.

“Hey, baby. You look cozy,” he replied, propping his phone against a pillow.

She nodded, leaning onto her fist. “Just wish you were here.”

Bob sighed. He didn’t mean to sound so dissatisfied. Just knowing they both longed to be together… he couldn’t wait until things were easier. He stretched an arm behind his head, his bicep flexing.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he admitted.

Her eyes flicked up to meet his through the screen. “Yeah?” she asked. “What about?”

He pressed his lips together, debating whether to tell her about his daydreams—his fantasies.

“Just all the things I miss about you. Having you in my bed. Seeing you on base. Coming home to you…” He paused. “And God, baby, I miss that perfect body underneath me.”

She watched him, then adjusted her phone again. His breath hitched when he noticed her hard nipples pressing against her thin tank top. He stretched his right hand down and palmed himself over his shorts.

“What would you do if I was there right now?” she asked, her fingers ghosting over her breast. “Please tell me.”

Bob groaned as he gripped his half-hard cock through his shorts. “Well, first,” he began, “I’d have my hands all over you. Gripping that ass. Pinching your nipples.” His hips bucked against his hand.

She nodded, and he could see her chest rising and falling as he spoke. “What else?” she asked.

“I’d kiss you. All over. I’d start with your lips, then your neck, then your chest. Then I’d suck on your nipples - I know how much you love that, baby. I’d kiss down your stomach, all the way down to-” He squeezed his cock, stifling a groan. “Fuck, I’d have my mouth on that pretty pussy so fast.”

“I’ve missed your mouth,” she whispered, her hand trailing down her body and out of frame.

“Are you about to touch yourself, baby?” Bob asked.

“Aren’t you?” she countered. Bob smirked.

“I am. Wanna see?”

She nodded, and he pushed his shorts down his legs, tossing them to the side. His dick was practically begging for her, and he fisted it before turning the camera around. He watched her face as she bit her lip, her own arm moving rhythmically.

“Fuck, Bobby. I need you. I miss the way you fill me up. Wish you could feel how wet you’ve made me.”

He stroked himself for her, slowly. She let out a soft moan, her eyes never leaving the screen.

“Take off your clothes, baby. Please,” Bob begged, his heart pounding.

She sat up, propping her phone against the headboard. When she came back into frame, he could see her whole body. She peeled her tank top off slowly, and he couldn’t help the whimper that escaped his throat when her tits were finally on display. She squeezed her breasts, groaning as she pinched and pulled at her nipples.

“Feels so much better when it’s your hands,” she whined. He stroked himself faster at that. She got on all fours before turning her back to the camera. Then she pushed her shorts down, arching her back as her glistening pussy filled his screen.

“Oh my-fucking…” His voice sounded strangled as he gripped his cock. He was a mess - moaning, whimpering, whining. But he couldn’t help it. He wanted her so bad.

She turned back around to face the camera, spreading her legs so he had a full view. Her fingers found her clit, pressing circles into it with one hand as she pinched her nipple with the other.

“Bobby, I miss you. Miss that cock. I can’t wait until you can fill me up again.” She plunged her fingers into her soaking wet hole. Bob could see just how wet she was - her slick pussy glistening in the low light of her bedroom.

“Next time I see you, I’m gonna be inside you before we even leave the airport.” Bob was fucking his hand now, his hips snapping up. “Gonna have you dripping for me again by the time we make it home. Then I’m gonna spend all night with my cock buried inside you… fucking made for me.”

His hips stuttered, and every sound she made sent a jolt of electricity through him. She adjusted her position, lying back so he could see her fully spread, her back arching off the bed. All for him.

“I’ve thought about you like this so many times,” she murmured, glancing over to watch him as she touched herself. “Thought about your cock in my hands, in my mouth… God, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve touched myself thinking about you fucking me, baby. Nothing compares to you.”

He could tell she was close by the way her thighs tensed. He clenched his fist around his length, gasping at the thought of her pussy squeezing him as he brought her to her orgasm.

“Just a little bit longer, baby,” he begged with a groan. “I’m so close - please, let’s cum together.”

He watched her eyes roll back as she adjusted her pressure. “I’m not sure how much longer I can-fuck!” She threw her head back with the most desperate whine Bob had ever heard.

“Oh, baby,” he panted. “I’m about to… I’m about to cum, baby. All for you, all for you, all for you.”

His hips continued to buck up into his fist as he shot his load all over his stomach. She was fully watching him now, biting her lip like she was remembering the last time she got to taste him - the last time she made him come undone like that.

Both of their chests were heaving, and for a while, the only sounds they could hear were deep, shallow breaths.

“I needed that,” he murmured finally. “God, I needed that.”

“Me too,” she agreed softly. “Definitely made a big mess, though.” When she picked up her phone, he could see the wet spot where she’d been before.

He chuckled, looking down at his own body. “We both did. Let’s get cleaned up.”

They did so in silence. Bob pulled on a clean pair of shorts, and he noticed she had changed into an oversized T-shirt - one of his. Once they were both back in their beds, Bob sighed.

“I miss you so much,” he said.

“I miss you too,” she replied. “And I love you. So much.”

Bob nodded, that familiar ache spreading in his chest. “I love you too.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I hope we can see each other soon.”

She was silent for a while. He just watched her - how she snuggled into her pillows under her plush comforter. “We will,” she reassured him. He wasn’t sure that was true, but he stayed silent anyway.

“Wanna stay on until we fall asleep?” she asked. Bob nodded, rolling onto his side. Her breathing had evened out - deep, slow, soft. His eyes felt heavy.

“Sweet dreams, Bobby,” was the last thing he heard before he drifted off to sleep.

[marlynnofmany]

Launching

I had some time to kill at the spaceport. We’d already made our delivery, and a different client was due to bring the next package to us later today, for transport to some other population center. Captain Sunlight was currently in discussions with a third individual, who sounded like they were fine with whatever delivery time we could manage. That was a nice change.

Also nice was the fact that I didn’t have to worry about any of the details. The captain was on top of things, with a couple other crewmates at hand (or in Mur’s case, at tentacle). I was free to wander a bit.

So I did, strolling through the civilized area with all its concrete and murals, and out toward the edge of the area where plants grew. It looked peaceful out there.

Plus I heard excited shouts and laughter on the breeze, and I was very curious.

This seemed to be the forgotten area of town. There was a big pile of machine parts near what passed for a doorway, and I had to climb around some of it. I thought briefly about seeing whether it was legitimately up for grabs — might be worth selling as salvage offworld — but that didn’t seem worth the trouble. It probably belonged to somebody. Plus most of the pieces were huge: cogs and gearshafts that weighed more than me, unwieldy cables, and things I couldn’t identify. One part looked like a broken teeter-totter.

I stepped over a warped panel, trying not to lose my balance as a stack of gears shifted when I leaned on it, then I immediately forgot all of that. I could see the hills outside town.

There was a mock-battle going on.

The mossy green hills were covered in dozens of Heatseekers with a variety of scale colors, split into two factions wearing either brown or silver belt sashes. They used hand weapons that were clearly toys: blaster-shaped things that launched foam balls soaked in some sort of temporary paint. Or maybe it was a perfume. Either way, they were aiming at each other with the kind of childlike abandon I hadn’t seen since my last water balloon fight back on Earth.

I moved past the junk heap and took a spot on the hill, sitting down on the springy moss to watch. The Heatseekers I knew were either too sensible or too shy for this kind of shenanigans. I tried to decide whether it was racist of me to assume the little lizardy folk weren’t into recreational combat as a species-wide generalization, or if my sample size was just too small.

Then a recently “killed” combatant saw me watching, and came over to rest on the moss while her perfume faded. (It was salmon-colored, and smelled like recently cut ivy vines.)

“Hello!” she said with a smile, sounding out of breath. “My side is losing.”

I had to smile back. “I’m sorry to hear that!”

“It’s okay,” she told me. “We’ll switch the teams up soon. Anyone stationed on the high ground has an advantage.” She waved a scaly green hand toward a big hill that did seem central to the battle. The brown-sash team had a stockpile of the foam stinkballs up there, and they were reloading while their enemies charged uphill.

I said, “Looks like fun either way.”

“Oh, it is.”

“I have to say, I haven’t seen this kind of thing often,” I told her. “Everyone’s always so serious about not wanting to get hurt.”

She waved her hand and her tail in the same dismissive motion. “Offworlders are boring.”

“Apparently so!” I watched a pair of sneaky individuals come up the other side of the hill and make a dash for the weapons stockpile. They got foam balls tossed at them by hand, and had to retreat in pinkish-orange defeat. I asked, “Oh, is throwing allowed too?”

“Sure, though the launchers are more effective. Nobody’s going to throw far enough to tag someone from a distance.”

“Well,” I said, remembering our differences in shoulder anatomy. “I could. But that would be cheating.”

“You could?” she asked. “How far?”

“Pretty far,” I said. I rotated my arm in a circle to demonstrate. “My species is all about throwing. We’ve been chucking rocks at dangerous things since the beginning.”

She raised her own arm, which didn’t make the same smooth motion. The bones were different. “Wow, that must be useful. And it would definitely fall under the historical cutoff!”

“Is this a historical thing?” I glanced at the ball-launchers, which looked modern enough to me.

“Yes, nothing from the last three centuries,” she said. “Inspired by, at any rate. These are all recreations, of course.”

“Of course.” I wondered if this planet had been using a different kind of ball for actual battles three centuries ago. Maybe poison berries or something like that.

Then she interrupted my thoughts with, “It’s a pity we can’t all use your arm.”

“What about other launching tools?” I asked, looking around. “If we had the right kind of sticks, you might be able to use one to throw those decently far. Or even a slingshot. Though that probably wouldn’t get any farther than the things you have. Or what about—” I turned to look at the pile of junk. “I wonder.”

“Yes?” she asked, visibly curious. The perfume-paint was already fading.

“Does all this stuff belong to anybody? Would they mind if we moved it around?”

She assured me that it did not, and any exciting offworlder cleverness would be most welcome.

“Great to hear,” I said, getting up. “Because there’s a distinct possibility that we can use it to make a trebuchet.”

She was immediately onboard, with no idea what that word meant. She called over a couple friends who were similarly dead-for-the-moment while I hauled a big broken thing free from the pile. It was the one that reminded me of a seesaw with one side snapped off. Pretty ideal for a trebuchet, especially if we could fasten a heavy gear to the short side. And there were even a couple of those about the right weight: just light enough for the group of us to shove around without anyone losing a toe. Plus plenty of cables.

The other team surely wondered what we were doing, dragging the unwieldy monstrosity out onto the moss. I told everyone that I couldn’t promise it would work very well.

“It doesn’t have the full range of motion that it should, so the aim is probably way off, but it’s worth a try.”

An exceptionally slender male said, “Even if it falls apart immediately, this is already fun. Who has the ammo?”

There were more silver-belted Heatseekers gathering around, some carrying small buckets of the stinkballs. The brown team retreated to their hilltop to regroup. Pretty perfect, really. I aimed the junkyard siege engine as best I could, then supervised the loading of one whole bucket onto the long side. Everybody grabbed the cables we’d tied to it, and pulled until the weight on the short end lifted high into the air.

“Annnd DROP!” I yelled, letting go. The others did too, jumping back as the long end of the trebuchet whipped skyward.

The foam balls soared in a glorious arc toward the startled enemy forces, who dodged with only partial success. Then they laughed and demanded a turn.

“Team switch!” yelled the green one I’d first spoken to. She said, “I think this calls for a new game.”

“What about just seeing who’s best at dodging?” I suggested. “You don’t even need teams for that.”

“Very true!” she agreed, fingering her sash. The other team was hurrying over while everyone chattered excitedly. “This is a genius bit of weaponry,” she told me. “Are you sure it’s more than three centuries old?”

I laughed. “This is thousands of years old. It’s far older than anything explosive, much less lasers and stun guns.”

“What!” she exclaimed. “Your people thought of this first?”

“Humans are all about throwing,” I said with a grin. “Remind me to tell you about slingshots and lacrosse poles. Oh, and bolas. And spear launchers. And boomerangs…”

“Please do. Next week is the big meetup, and they won’t know what hit them.”

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[uvobreakmylegs]

Here's a painful ask. How do you think the troupe would be with a darling who reminds them of Sarasa? You can pick the members.

warnings: death, kidnapping, mind control, isolation, torture, delusional yandere

Sarasa was only a child when she was murdered, and while she's been dead for years by the time the troupe leaves Meteor City, the brutality of her death is more than likely still fresh for all of them. So when one of the founding members of the troupe comes across a darling that is similar to Sarasa, either in looks, personality or a combination of the two, those members will more than likely be very overprotective of them

a majority of the troupe will want to keep darling secure and in a safe place where they can't be hurt - that was what happened to Sarasa, after all. she was on her own in a dangerous area when they lost her. even though darling is an adult, the same could easily happen to them, and that member doesn't want to take the risk of darling's life being cut short in the same way Sarasa's was. and given the criminal activity that the troupe regularly engages, that risk is made even more likely

of those members, Chrollo or Pakunoda will make things at least bearable for darling, though not in a way that darling would want. Chrollo with his long-term manipulation abilities to keep darling happy, and Pakunoda with her Memory Bomb that will allow her to control darling's mind and make up whatever story she needs to keep darling safe from harm without complaint. darling will still be stuck and unable to interact with the world outside, but since both Chrollo and Paku prefer it for this darling to be happy, they'll do just that so they can come back to a darling that smiles at them

a situation with Phinks or Franklin isn't as great, but they do attempt to keep darling happy in whatever ways they can. they don't have any ways to keep darling in place with more sophisticated means, so they have no choice but to resort to force. but seeing darling crying or sad makes them feel guilty, so they try to make things better by offering up gifts to try and make them happy. obviously, that doesn't really work, but both are determined to keep darling safe, regardless of the things they feel when they see darling sobbing themselves to sleep

Uvogin ends up dragging darling along with him on his travels, never leaving their side for long enough for darling to attempt to get help. if darling is too resistant/prone to running away, he intentionally brings them to areas that are dangerous, either due to the environment or the wildlife. it isn't nice, but it guarantees that darling won't go running off since they won't survive without Uvogin by their side

things are pretty bleak with Shalnark or Feitan. both are more concerned with keeping darling safe, and their happiness isn't as high of a priority as keeping them alive is. with both of these men, darling will be taken away to a remote location and be given very few freedoms. living with Shalnark means darling will have their every move monitored no matter what room they're in due to the numerous cameras Shalnark has placed all over the house. darling gets no privacy whatsoever in this instance, and while Shalnark might say that he understands darling's distress, he doesn't feel badly over it

while living with Feitan, darling won't be monitored 24/7, but they can't go anywhere and they're also subject to Feitan barging into their space whenever he feels like it. "to check up," he'll tell them, even though nothing has changed during the thirty minutes since he barged in the last time. darling can cry and beg all they want for Feitan to let them go, but it's all a wasted effort since he'll never say 'yes'

Machi might be the only decent one of the troupe in this case. unlike the others, Machi is unwilling to get involved with darling since that will put them in danger. and after experiencing Sarasa's death - and the way Machi remembers how, as a child, she gathered up the bag that held the body parts - she doesn't want darling to experience darling suffering the same fate, or one that could be even worse than what Sarasa went through. she'll keep an eye on darling from a distance, but she won't approach. it's more important that darling be able to live their life in the way that Sarasa was unable to

Nobunaga has the potential to be the worst of the troupe, depending on his mental state when he comes across darling. if he's doing okay, then the situation with him will likely be similar to what darling experiences living with either Phinks or Franklin

however, if Nobunaga comes across darling after he's reeling from the death of Uvogin, he'll start to convince himself that darling actually is Sarasa

whatever thoughts he may have had of what Sarasa would be like as an adult will be projected onto darling, and he expects them to be just like he imagined Sarasa to be. whatever likes or dislikes he expected she would have, whatever her interests would have been - Nobunaga wants - no, demands that darling match that image in his head down to a tee. if darling messes up his vision, he'll be forgiving.... at first. but if it continues and resembles "rebellion" as opposed to "accidents", Nobunaga's goodwill starts to shrink. if darling pushes him too far and too hard, there will be consequences, likely in the form of isolation and the minimum amount of sustenance required to survive. he doesn't want to kill darling, but he does want to teach them a lesson

things will be a lot easier on darling if they just give in to the delusion

[bunni-v1]

Cowboy Caleb Agenda

Please, god, see the vision.

TW: Minor SA (reader is forced into a kiss by a random); Illusions to reader doing sex work; Caleb threatens someone; not edited, wrote this on a whim after hearing cole cassidy from OW speak

Info: Caleb x Reader; Cowboy Caleb Amen

Cowboy Caleb who's awfully favored by the people in your little town. Typically Cowboys like him were bad news, always bringing about trouble, causing fights in the name of good deeds. Not Caleb, though. He was the apple of the towns eye. Big, strong, clever, and real helpful. He rounds up the bad guys without breaking a sweat, helps with upkeep, and even visits the nearby city for supply runs for the older folks. How could anyone not like him?

The pretty upper-class girls always giggled when he passed by, whistling a tune to himself and paying them no mind. Everyone wanted a piece of him, but he had his eyes set on one prize. One very hard-to-get prize.

You were just a barmaid trying to make ends meet. Your mom died when you were little, of some disease, and your daddy was sick. You didn't have any family left besides him, so it was up to you to care and provide. His medicine had to come from the big city, so there was a commute fee on top of the already hefty price. You didn't complain about it, though, just picked up a few more hours and offered some extra services where you needed to.

It wasn't honest work, but it was definitely hard. Caleb respected it, really, he did. You were a tough lady, and that was admirable in and of itself, but it was frustrating. He wanted to care for you, provide for you - he could too, if you'd just let him. But no, you're too stubborn for that. Your daddy raised you good and strong, great for warding off other men, not so great for becoming your man.

You see him as just another Cowboy who wants a cheap fuck. Sure, he's nice and helpful, but he's still a man at the end of the day. They all want the same thing; it's just that Caleb is determined to appear like an upstanding man. He's playing the long game, toying with your heart like this, and you don't like being toyed with.

Every gesture, every declaration of affection, every gift is turned down just as harshly as the next. It doesn't deter him; in fact, he just thinks up new ways to bother you every time. The level of determination he's got is almost admirable, if not for the fact that it was so damn persistent. It didn't quite reach harassment, he would back down when you gave him your real mean glare, but it was a constant you'd come to expect.

He first starts to win you over on a less-than-great night. First off, the price of your daddy's medicine had gone up, meaning you were gonna be short unless you cut into the food budget. Then you'd broken one of your ma's old fancy dinnerware pieces trying to put things away quickly before work. Now, the patrons were rowdy - too rowdy - drinking too much too fast and creating messes that would take an hour to clean up at least. The last thing you needed was Caleb coming in to try and wiggle his way under your skirt like the other men here were doing.

He didn't, though, surprisingly. Only offered you a little smile and a nod when he saw your tired eyes. He stayed your whole shift, subtly keeping an eye on things until you shooed him out of the saloon with the other drunkards. You didn't realize he'd settled himself across the road while you closed up, didn't know he was still watching you, making sure you were alright. You had no idea how grateful you'd be to him for it.

All you could think about when you left the bar was how you were gonna ration food for the month without raising your daddy's suspicions. You weren't considering that one of your clients would be looking for you tonight. Not until he was shoving you against the wall, pressing his mouth against yours like it was his to take. He tasted like alcohol, and he smelled like it, too. You'd think someone so inebriated would be easy to fight off, but he had an iron-tight grip on you. The only relief you had was that, at the very least, you'd get paid for this. You could charge him more for making you get home late, too, which would solve the food problem.

He's thrown off you in the next instant, a spurred boot kicking his ribs hard. Caleb pulls him to his feet by his collar before he can recover from the blow, holding him up like he weighed nothing. It's scary, the look in Caleb's eyes. Flat, lifeless, empty. You don't think you like it. It didn't look right on him, not when you were so used to that playful smile that he only gave to you.

"Now I know your Mama raised you better than that," he states, low and dangerous, "You touch every lady you see like that?"

The man shakes his head adamantly, able to realize how badly he fucked up even through his drunken state. You would probably feel the same in his situation.

"So just the girl I'm courting, hm?" He hums, tilting his head in an almost playful manner. It's a shocking thing to hear, but it was said so genuinely that you have a hard time questioning it. Was everything he was doing genuine from the start? It's hard for you to believe, but maybe you could... maybe.

He tosses the man to the ground, spitting at him like he was scum, "Run home before I get the Sheriff on your ass, y'hear?"

You watch him scuttle away, tripping over himself a few times before finally managing to get on his way. Then you are alone with Caleb, and suddenly your small town just got a hell of a lot smaller. He lets you sit in your discomfort for a moment, or maybe he was just collecting himself, before tilting his hat to you slightly. A sign of peace.

"You alright, Miss?" He worries, hands twitching at his sides like he wants to check for himself.

You nod, "Yeah. Thank you, I would've been in deep shit if you weren't still around."

"You want me to help you on home?" He asks like he does every night, but this time you feel like saying yes. So, you do.

Your house isn't that far from the saloon, but you didn't feel too safe after what happened. Caleb, at the very least, would offer you the comfort you needed to get back to your place. You share some light conversation, and he manages to wiggle out what's been bothering you all day. He doesn't flirt with you a single time, and you find yourself missing the compliments now. He doesn't pass the steps of your porch when he waves you goodbye, but he stays until the door is fully closed and he hears the lock click.

It's a new side to him, quieter and more intense than the bold flirt you'd gotten used to. You hate the way his bold confession rings in your head all night long, and when you wake, and while you're making breakfast for your old man. You're too spacy as you spread the butter on your toast, jumping out of your skin when there's a knock on your front door. When you check to see who it is, all you're greeted by is a small package with a note attached.

It reads,

"Hey, little lady!

Sorry about the scene last night, as an apology, I got you a little gift to make up for it. Tell me if you need anything else, and I'll get it for you.

-Your Cowboy, Caleb

P.S. Consider this my first official act of courting you."

Not willing to unpack the way your heart is racing in your chest right now, you decide to peel open the package. You expect maybe some fancy necklace, or a silly souvenir from the city, Caleb seems like the type to like that stuff. What you see, instead, has you dropping the thing like it's burned you.

Three months of your father's medicine, and enough money to get you the good stuff at the food market. You pinch yourself, hissing at the sensation. It can't be real, but it is. What a gift. You can't tell if you're grateful or entirely offended by it. Is it sweet, or is it crossing a line? You can't tell.

Your father walks in before you can decide, peering at the box with interest. He eyes you curiously when you blink up at him like a kid with their hand in the cookie jar. He glances at the note on the table next to it, tilts his head, then smiles.

"Seems like my little girl finally has some admirers I have to fight off," he teases.

"Oh..." You grumble, rounding him toward the kitchen table, "You don't know anything, Daddy. Now, sit down or else you're not eating breakfast."

[nightingale-prompts]

A Home for Davey

Davey the Revenant Au

It's becoming so clear that Davey doesn't belong here but Bruce couldn't let go that he seemed to fit so well sometimes. He had never given up on anyone let alone his children.

Davey just had special needs. He was still just a little boy. He had his whole life ahead of him.

At least he did.

Constantine hasn't given up trying to get Bruce to see the truth. Davey is dead. He has been dead for a long time now. But Bruce doubted it more and more. He had held Davey in his arms and can feel the warmth of his body and the pulse of his heart. He was a living being.

But he knew very well that "Living" and Davey were always at odds. Davey's obsessive desire to not just die but to be killed was what made him what he was. His singular desire was what kept him here on earth. Bruce could neither let him pursue it nor let him give it up. In either case, Davey would be gone for good just like Constantine warned.

There is no winning.

Jason wanted to take Davey. Allow him to fulfill his obsession and use it to help people. But Bruce could never agree to that. But his nature Davey must be harmed in order to harm others. Could Jason truly stand by and watch Davey wander into the hands of those whose only desire is to hurt children just so Davey can conduct his lengthy psychological attack—mentally tormenting his target to death.

Davey is also kept under constant watch because he can easily escape back into the world and sometimes he still tries. Part of him knew that if Davey did truly escape long enough he'd never come back. The pull of his nature would always overwrite any semblance of humanity he had learned.

It was selfish in a way.

Bruce knew how much Davey struggled in a world that had rules he didn't understand. He didn't understand why people feared or felt uncomfortable around him. He'll he had alienated most of the League and they wayed far from him. It hurt Bruce of course and the kids have tried to be there for Davey. But they knew is was tiring. Davey required 24 hour care and it's taxing cleaning up blood stains and dealing with the sight of the child corpses he leaves behind. Thank, God they disintegrate after a while.

Davey was a sweet kid though. He loved people in a pure way. He didn't expect anything from you but was thankful for any affection you gave. He wanted to be near you and be held. He was just so young when he died and it must have been so horrible for him to be so new to being loved.

But knew he needed to find answers. For Davey's sake. Constantine told him from the start to find Davey's resting place. Taking him back to where he died and performing an appeasement ceremony might be enough to let him rest but they may also have to let Davey finally find his original target. The one who killed him.

They managed to make a trail of each of Davey's kill locations to find where it all started. They narrowed down a location in Madison, Wisconsin. It felt random at first. What could have happened there to create a revenant?

Tim had his theories. He brought up the Native American legend of the Deer Woman. The Deer Woman was a spirit that targeted men who harmed women and children by luring them to their deaths. That is exactly what Davey did. His uncanny ability to find his targets, just by looking at them made sense.

That only made it clearer that Davey couldn't last among humans.

It was settled. They were going to have to take him back there. It was the only way to know for sure. There was a good chance that Davey wouldn't be coming back.

Dinner that evening was quiet. Tomorrow was Davey's last night here. Of course, Davey didn't know that. He just knew that everyone was paying extra attention to him. He got extra cookies from Alfred without having to ask extra nicely.

He didn't really understand what it felt like but he saw that Dick's eyes were red. He saw that in his shows on PBS that that mean sadness. He followed what the TV told him and hugged Dick.

He had learned a lot recently. Like be kind and caring to others because it's the right thing to do. Always comfort your friends and listen to what they need.

Dick said he was okay though. Davey didn't know what to do next.

Tim gave him unlimited tablet time though and he sat on Barbara and Cass's lap all night until he fell asleep at 8, a whole hour after his bedtime.

It was around midnight when Damian snuck into Davey's room. He picked up the 6-year-old and carried him off.

He didn't like Davey but he couldn't let this happen. He didn't know what was going through his father's head. He has never given up on anyone, even if the world thought they deserved it. Why give up on Davey?

Damian knew the answer. He didn't like the answer, none of them did. But was this truly putting Davey first? He didn't do anything wrong but be turned into a revenant. He didn't ask for this. Bruce said he was just going to look for an answer but he didn't need Davey to do that.

Damian didn't care how sad everyone was, they never asked Davey what he wanted. So he was going to stop them from making a stupid decision.

Jason was waiting outside in a car. Damian loaded the sleeping boy in the back and they drove off a quickly as possible.

[theotherrookie]

"Yeah, never trust the guy who's trying to eat you. He might know reverse psychology." Erica always had her way to blur the distinction between jokes and whenever she was being completely serious.

Willow dragged the chair over, careful not to touch any of the spots that Five was more likely to have touched directly.

"This will burn nicely." She proceeded to take off her gloves and tossed them on the seat. Her hands were going to be the least outrageous detail against armor and animal features.

"It was a long fight. Five has way too much time to waste thinking of new tricks." Erica said, "And they didn't even help him in the end!"

"All he really achieved was making things harder for himself as we learned some new tricks of our own." Lucien added, "While I appreciate the kind words, Russell, I believe defining my time as a hunter as a failure is most appropriate. What I was trying to do was wrong and unlike Five, I can recognize my faults."

Other than that, he was absolutely fabulous.

Erica tilted her head. "You're looking for 900 pinecones? Then you're not going to need that banana in your pocket."

"Wait until he checks his bag." Lucien told her with a smirk.

Rook chuckled as she pointed at the strange lightning storm happening in the distance.

"Do you like it? It's our special hotline." Her expression quickly shifted as a thought occurred to her, "I wonder if we could make some code for this. I'll have to ask the others what they think. There's a chance the Roche have already built something we can use."

Despite Five's accusations, Rook clearly spoke fondly of her fellow mages and still worked hard to fill the position she was given in their team. Nobody minded if they started off as a joke when she clearly cared for all of them.

Rook kept her wings firmly pressed against her back as they descended. Truth be told, she couldn't wait to get out of her armor and into something more comfortable, but she couldn't pass on the chance of parading around pretending to be a cosplayer.

"It'll be nice but I think what we need is some regular free time now." she replied, "You know, just hanging out at the club, some more rehearsals, maybe a trip or two. We've been in survival mode for a while and we need to do some things just for the fun of it."

She was starting to like that method of travel. Still, Rook was glad to get back on the ground.

"I will leave a good review. Let's see what the others have found."

She could already tell there was a certain chair waiting to be set ablaze.

Veronica smiled fondly. "She's a stubborn one, isn't she? Quite a few of us wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her."

She wouldn't, for certain. Only Rook could have moved to the other side of the world and devote herself to finding a way to at least see her one last time. Lucien was another who could attest to Rook's determination.

It was a shame Five wasn't going to do it even if it killed him. They could have done with his family ceasing to be so annoying.

"Perhaps you could wear it again for a few sparring sessions. The novices could all use some extra training."

It was better than learning on the field while having to fight for their lives.

"I really thought I was done when I found myself with three extra daughters." Veronica mused, "And I suppose I'll go back to having very little to do for most of the day. Though I could double as something of a phantom at the opera, if you don’t mind having a few familiar faces in the audience."

She would have enjoyed the diversion. Veronica shifted her attention to Erica as she ran over to them.

"You found him!" She proceeded to poke Frosty's cheek, "I guess he felt like taking a nap somewhere else. Can we go now?"

"Those vampires must have been Italians."

The thought was fascinating, but Erica still preferred Bill to many other undeads she had met. He was nicer and had cool shadow powers.

She too was content with the trashing being over for now. The nice thing about sending stuff to the void was that it could be done quietly.

Erica waited for Willow to check the data coming from the drone before going off to retrieve Five's favorite chair. "Are we sure there's no bloodsucking singing plant around here?"

"Well, that would be a plant I wouldn't mind seeing turned to ash." Lucien mused, "Oh, I was just trying to make myself useful. I realized one of the reasons behind my failure was my training not really contemplating direct confrontations."

He then reached to pat Russell's shoulder, "So I learned from the best."

"Well, except the part where you give everybody a good scare!" Erica barged in on what could have otherwise been another tender moment to look Russell over, "You've gotta be careful when you die now. You're gonna give people a big scare like I did with Travis."

"Give him some credit, Erica." Willow said.

"Yeah, I'm giving him credit that he's going to be careful about not dying on people."

A repeat of the accident from earlier was a given with Russell's altruistic tendencies. The best Erica could do was offer her experience on how not scare people to death.

Lucien didn't seem to agree with her intentions as he rolled his eyes. "They look different but they're all as gentle as a brick to the face."

The fiery bird was a more refined alternative to what was for all intents and purposes a giant middle finger from Rook to Five, her father and everybody who wanted for whatever reason to tear them apart. The choice had fallen on the former simply because she wasn't alone.

Rook was about to thank Bill for the compliments when the clouds in the distance parted and lighting stretched from the buildings towards the sky. News of their victory had been received.

"Well, it won't stop idiots from trying anyway, but we're in for a big party."

Though a nice long nap was in order. Rook was already pondering taking her deck chair to the roof when she moved to start heading back down.

"Let's get going. I can't wait to see the moment Lucien will start regretting shooting lasers around." Rook replied with a grin, "It's always like that after the first fight and I won't let him hear the end of it."

Veronica couldn't help smiling fondly.

"I'm so proud of my daughter." She even managed to mark the building without the roof collapsing under her feet.

"And for being so heroic." she added, "And while we're on the topic, you look fabulous, Leofric! It simply bears repeating."

Now that it was over, she too was allowed to have a little fun. Veronica's delight only increased as she observed the way Antonio's ear flicked back into place.

"Chick never lets me bring strays home then she adopts the king of cats." the ghost lady shrugged dramatically, before smiling, "But I'm glad you turned out to be as much of a softie. The stories I heard didn't do you justice."

She needed to keep herself in the loop more. The ghost lady kept an eye on the sleeping Frosty as they prepared to rejoin the others.

"It has been difficult, but they're fighters and have each other. The best we can do now for them is to keep moving forward and get on with all those nice projects you have talked about these past few weeks."

That would really make it worth it.

[jungkoode]

drabble from griffin’s pov???? i think it would be so hilarious 😅😂

AHAHAAHHHAHAH I have been saving this one for a while because I was deciding which one to use it for. So, behold—chapter 12 from our favorite orange menace’s POV.

Or Griffin’s survival guide to stupid humans.

6:47 PM

Sunbeam. Perfect windowsill temperature. Tail positioned for maximum dramatic effect.

Life is good.

7:02 PM

Door slam. Phoenix human is back from her daily abandonment ritual (she calls it ‘studying’ but I know it’s just an excuse to leave me).

She smells like stress and those terrible library books. Also… vanilla. Always vanilla. It’s actually quite pleasant, though I’d never admit it to her face.

7:03 PM

Oh no. She’s got That Look. The one that means Jungkook human is about to get yelled at for something.

Time to relocate to higher ground. Kitchen counter provides excellent view of impending chaos.

7:04 PM

She’s banging on Jungkook human’s door. Aggressive. Impressive. I approve.

Wait—did she just say something about MY vanilla? Excuse me, Phoenix human, but you don’t own scents. That’s like saying I own the concept of knocking things off tables.

Which I do, obviously.

7:05 PM

Jungkook human emerges. Shirtless, for reasons I don’t comprehend. These humans have absolutely no sense of proper attire. I’ve been trying to teach them about dignified presentation for months, puking on the pieces of clothing I don’t approve of, but do they listen? No.

Also, his hair looks like he stuck his paw in an electrical socket. Pathetic.

7:07 PM

Oh, it’s about the candle. The vanilla one that’s been burning all afternoon, making the apartment smell less like ‘disappointed cat’ and more like ‘cozy den.’

For the record, I enjoyed the vanilla ambiance. It complemented my nap quite nicely. And it removed the cheap perfume scent from the previous Girl human.

And now they’re fighting again. These humans have the strangest obsessions. I prefer the smell of that tuna they never give me.

Phoenix human gesticulates wildly. Jungkook human looks confused. Both are being dramatic.

I am the only mature individual in this household.

7:09 PM

They’re bickering about coffee now. I’ve given up trying to understand their mating rituals.

Moving to living room couch for better acoustics.

7:15 PM

Coffee making noises from kitchen. Jungkook human is in full peacock mode, showing off his ‘barista skills’ like it’s some sort of impressive hunting display.

Phoenix human is pretending not to be interested while clearly being very interested.

Humans are exhausting.

7:18 PM

The Mug Incident occurs.

Jungkook human drinks from Phoenix human’s mug. She stares at his mouth. He knows she’s staring at his mouth. She knows he knows.

This is worse than when they had that screaming match about who ate the last yogurt. At least that had substance.

7:22 PM

They’ve moved to the couch. MY couch.

The audacity.

I’m relocating to the windowsill to express my displeasure through strategic back-turning and judgmental tail positioning.

7:23 PM

OH FOR THE LOVE OF—

They’re doing the thing again. The weird grabby thing where they get all breathe-heavy and make those noises.

I resented this apartment at first, because how dare Jungkook human move my chambers without asking for permission.

But I don’t see Scary human anymore, so I accepted it.

I never accepted this; however.

7:25 PM

Jungkook human just said ‘hop on’ and I briefly considered intervening because that’s MY line. I’m the one who hops on things. Counters, beds, Phoenix human’s laptop when she’s trying to work.

But then I remembered I don’t actually care about human territorial disputes.

7:30 PM

They’re really going at it now. All grabby hands and ridiculous noises.

Do they not realize I have very sensitive hearing? Some of us are trying to maintain our dignity here.

7:45 PM

More noises. Jungkook human is making sounds like he’s choking on a hairball, but somehow Phoenix human seems to think this is… positive?

Humans are deeply confusing.

I’m going to stare out the window and pretend none of this is happening. Maybe judge some pigeons. Those flying rats have no sense of proper urban etiquette.

7:58 PM

FINALLY. Silence.

Wait, no. Now they’re talking about… toys?

Not the good kind of toys. Not feather wands or laser pointers or those delightful crinkly balls. They’re talking about human toys, which from context seem significantly less entertaining.

Although Jungkook human seems very excited about ‘shopping’ which usually means new things come into the apartment, so perhaps this will work out in my favor.

8:00 PM

They’re arguing about friendship now.

Phoenix human insists they’re ‘not friends’ while clearly caring about Jungkook human’s opinion. Jungkook human is pretending to be offended while obviously pleased with the attention.

It’s like watching two kittens who haven’t figured out they like playing with each other yet.

Actually, that’s insulting to kittens. Kittens have more emotional intelligence.

8:05 PM

Jungkook human has collapsed on top of Phoenix human like a large, sweaty blanket.

She’s complaining, but making no actual effort to remove him.

I still don’t understand, so I won’t make an effort to anytime soon.

8:10 PM

Peace at last. Time for my evening patrol of the apartment.

Food bowl: Adequately filled, though the presentation could be improved.

Water fountain: Functioning, though I prefer drinking from Jungkook human’s water glasses just to assert dominance.

Litter box: Clean. The one thing these humans do properly.

8:15 PM

Returning to windowsill for evening sunbeam absorption and philosophical contemplation.

Today’s thoughts: Humans are ridiculous creatures who communicate primarily through elaborate mating dances and volume control issues. They make simple things like drinking coffee into complex rituals. They burn candles to create “ambiance” when they could simply bask in natural light like civilized beings.

And yet… they keep the food bowl filled and the apartment adequately heated.

I suppose they’re trainable.

8:30 PM

Note to self: Next time they start their grabby-noise ritual, knock something valuable off the kitchen counter. Establish boundaries. Maintain household dignity.

But maybe wait until after dinner. And if it’s tuna, perhaps let them be.

Priorities.

[agentlizardofowca]

Drabble: Matchy-Matchy

This short fic takes place during Phineas and Ferb, season 5 , episode 6a The Aurora Perry-Alis. I just really like Heinz's cute lil outfit on that cruise ship :3 Enjoy!

-

Perry couldn’t help but conclude that Candace was right when she called that boat big when she stepped out of the car. They don’t often all put themselves into one vehicle; 7 was a tight squeeze after all. But the dock had expensive parking, so they’d agree to make it work.

With a stretch that popped his back, Perry took in the majesty of the large cruise ship, and honestly; he wasn’t a huge fan. He’d seen Titanic too many times and didn’t trust it.

The deck was packed with people and Perry had a feeling he should stay away from the pool, or he’d be designated to babysitter. 

“Candace, let’s head to the spa! That will help you- I mean “us” unwind. Perry, are you coming along too?” Linda asked him, as she held her daughter in a vice grip to prevent her from following the boys. “You were complaining about your sore back again last week.” 

“Oh yeah, that’ll help me relax,” Candace grumbled. “Looking at Uncle Perry’s hairy back will soothe me like nothing else!” 

「You go ahead,」 Perry signed with a frown aimed specifically at his niece. 「If you need me, check that lounge chair.」 He pointed at the very last chair in a long line of loungers with a view of the sparkling ocean. As soon as he was done signing, he squeezed some sunscreen on his nose, implying that he would not be leaving that chair for anything, except perhaps: a drink. 

“Well have fun- oh. Oh dear! I think your seat might be taken.” Linda bit her lip awkwardly and pointed at the seat.

“Hey! That pharmacist is stealing your lounge chair!” Candace agreed angrily and loudly enough to be heard across the deck.

“Oh come on!” A familiar voice replied. “I’m not even wearing a lab coat, how do I still look like a pharmacist?!” 

With trepidation, Perry turned around. He wondered why he was still surprised after this many years. Of course Doofenshmirtz was also here! Honestly, he didn’t mind the company. Spending time with Heinz was always fun, but why did he run into him so often when he was spending time with his family?

Perry swiped a hand through his hair, just to check if he wasn’t accidentally wearing a hat before he stepped up to Doofenshmirtz to get back his-

…

At the same time, Perry and Heinz turned, ready to bicker when they noticed.

“Hmmm,” Doofenshmirtz grumbled as the fight left him. “Nice shirt.”

「Thanks,」 Perry replied numbly. Since he was a solid few inches shorter than Heinz, he had a clear line of sight at his shirt. Which looked familiar. Eerily familiar.

The uncle looked down just to check. Yep, that was the same shirt - different colourway- but the exact same shirt as Heinz Doofenshmirtz was wearing right now. Well, Perry's was probably a few sizes bigger to accommodate his hulking shoulders, but aside from that. Identical. Full of guilt, Perry remembered that back in the store, he had contemplated the teal and purple shirt Heinz was wearing, but Linda had thought it was too matchy-matchy with his hair, so he hadn't bought it.

Wait. Had Heinz matched his shirt to him?

“Nice shorts too.” Doof pointed out next.

You’ve got to be kidding me?! Perry thought hysterically as he stepped back just far enough to see that their shorts were very, very similar too. Perry’s weren’t cargo green, or were Heinz's shorts more gray? No, they definitely had a greenish hue to them. 

At the very least, Perry thought with relief, he wasn’t wearing Chucks with knee-height socks under his shorts. Even Uncle Perry wasn’t allowed to leave the house in that. Surely Candace wouldn’t allow it. Actually, he should try that soon, just to see how she’d respond.

No, Perry was a more sophisticated man; he was wearing thongs. Allow me to specify; Australian type thongs, Americans usually called them “Flip. Flops.” 

“So,” Perry focused his attention back on Heinz, who apparently saw the humour in this situation because he was smiling as he rubbed at his hair. “What do you store in your bag?”

Perry couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed; directly at eye level, right in front of his face, was a cross-body bag. Just like his.

Lamely, Perry unzipped his bag and pulled his mostly full tube of sunscreen out.

“Oh nice, travel-sized! Just like the contents of my bag.” Heinz grinned cutely as he pointed out that fun little coincidence.

Perry nodded, not because he was making pleasant conversation, but because he was amazed at the cross-body bag. How could he have missed it? It was right in front of his face… and also… TEAL.

He must've been gaping like a fish. Heinz had never worn teal before today, right? At least, not like this. It looked good on him. That wasn't the issue. The issue was that he- they-

“Oh wow,” Another familiar voice said, and Perry turned and noticed that Vanessa was also there.

“Hey Vanessa, your dad is stealing my uncle’s lounge chair.” Candace pointed out. “But I think it’s fair, seeing as your dad stole my uncle’s fashion sense.”

“Yeah, so I see,” With a smile, she crossed her arms. “You two should make out.”

“Vanessa?!” Her father shrieked, and to Perry’s surprise, Heinz flushed red in a matter of seconds.

The teen shrieked happily. For a girl who claimed to be uninterested in evil, she had her maniacal laugh down perfectly. “I’m just kidding, of course.” She lied. “This is just a coincidence, duh.”

Perry had a very strong suspicion that ‘duh,’ wasn’t to be taken literally.

“Just like it was a coincidence you bought so many teal clothes last year.” Vanessa continued in a teasing tone.

“Hey, It’s a very calming colour!” Heinz defended, still blushing.

“Oh, I know,” Vanessa agreed, and she talked to her dad, but she looked at Perry. “It’s your happy colour.” 

“Exact- Hey, are you making fun of me?” Heinz asked.

“Yes, Yes I am.” Vanessa agreed. She wasn’t even paying attention to her dad. She’d stared at Perry the entire time, and although Perry wasn’t entirely sure what expression he was wearing right now, Vanessa seemed satisfied with it, because she grinned. “I am hungry. Talk to you later. Aren’t you busy getting your money’s due?” 

“Oh, yeah. I guess so. Um-” Heinz paused to look at Linda and Candace who were also still there.

“It was… nice? Meeting you?” Linda said, awkwardly but politely.

“Give my uncle his lounge chair back!” Candace demanded instead.

“Oh yeah, sure,” Heinz agreed and he handed Perry the miniature version of his chair. He looked at everybody for a second and then promptly said. “Bye!” And left to go collect more illegally acquired miniature furniture. 

“What a weirdo,” Candace pointed out.

Perry nodded to agree and then watched as Linda finally took Candace away to the spa.

Now alone on the deck, Perry tugged at his shirt to go take another look at it. He was soooo happy he got the green and purple version of the shirt. He would’ve looked like an idiot if they’d matched exactly.

Ah, who was he kidding? He looked like an idiot either way!

He rubbed at his face, hoping that if he had a visual blush on his cheeks, he could smooth it away somehow.

With a huff, he chucked his tiny chair to the side and then stomped off to change into his genuine uniform. He needed a cocktail asap, and the sooner he beat the pulp out of that outfit-stealing, preferred seat-shrinking, nemesis of his, the sooner he could get his Pina Colada.

Just a minute after Perry reluctantly wurmed himself back into his long, and professional looking trousers, he donned his fedora and tracked Heinz down to the other side of the deck. With a cool flip, Agent P landed in front of his nemesis.

“Oh, Perry the Platypus! You’re late! Say, I know you’re on the clock and all. But we’ve bent the rules before. You don’t need to drive after this do you?” 

Perry got to his feet with a curiously arched eyebrow.

“We’re on a cruise Perry! And it’s happy hour! I got you a Pina Colada!” 

Full of surprise, Perry accepted the glass as Doof pressed it into his hand. “The scheme can way a minute, I need to tell you what just happened to me. It was actually unbelievable!” 

[Insert shot of Perry and Doof drinking cocktails at sunset.]

[goodlucktai]

hold the world to its best (7/?)

rottmnt word count: 2k pairing: raph & OC title borrowed from light by sleeping at last part of the archer au

with art by @soldrawss !

(prev) (next)

x

Raph wakes up early the next morning to the feeling of something going missing. A tiny weight beside him that isn’t there anymore. 

The only reason it isn’t immediately alarming is because he can hear Leo talking quietly, the only cue his subconscious needs not to panic. He still cracks one eye open in time to see a familiar silhouette disappearing out his bedroom door. 

Since the storm, Gio has been a little clingier and a lot quieter. It seemed to have stirred up anxiety that hasn’t settled yet, like sediment in water that’s taking its time drifting back to where it usually rests. When he isn’t actively being distracted from it, it sits with him, casting him in shadow. 

He has enough shadows as it is. At four years old, they’re so much bigger than him. 

I wonder if he had a nightmare, Raph thinks, and with that thought the grogginess still clinging to him vanishes instantly. With the sigh of someone who knows he won’t get back to sleep until he checks in, Raph hauls himself up out of bed. 

There’s a light spilling out of the living room doorway, a block of warm yellow stamped across the hall. More than that, it’s the sound of his brothers’ voices that Raph’s following, that he’d be able to follow clear across the world. It probably wouldn’t even be the hardest thing he’s ever done. 

“—couldn’t get back to sleep either,” Leo is saying as Raph draws nearer. His tone is low and friendly, an automatic balm to frayed nerves. “I appreciate the company, Jorgito.”

It slaps Raph upside the head that he managed to forget about his little brother’s years-long losing battle with insomnia. In part, he thinks guiltily, because ever since Gio moved in, it’s been something they all worried less about. 

Those first weeks after the invasion were rough for everyone, but it was especially hard to watch Leo wake up from a night terror and have absolutely no idea where he was. No idea if he was safe. Shuddering away when they reached out to him, eyes darting around the room with an expression of raw fear—as if he was an animal being hunted by some unimaginable monster, and not a teenage boy surrounded by the people who would kill for him with their teeth and bare hands if they had to. 

All of them got a lot of practice at talking him down, at remembering to keep a light on for him. But Gio had a built-in fast-pass. Gio only had to put himself in Leo’s line of sight and take his hands, this brother of theirs who found Leo in the dark and carried him home in the first place, and all of the electrified, lock-jawed terror would seep from Leo like water down a leaky drain. If Gio was here, it meant he’d already been saved. It was a touchstone that never failed. 

The odds are very good that no one has thought to check in with Leonardo since Giorgio was cursed. Raph tries to think of when he last saw Leo without his mask and can’t pin it down. 

“Guess you’ve always been an early bird,” Leo goes on, “even back when you were just a little baby bird. Mikey’s the same way—up with the sun for every second of the day till it goes down again. The circadian rhythm of a bumblebee, and just as busy as one, too. Ninety-percent of papa’s gray fur is that maniac’s fault, don’t believe anything anyone else tells you.” 

Whatever Gio says in reply is too quiet for Raph to hear from the hall. He moves forward, enough to look through the doorway, and his heart melts into putty at the sight of Leo curled up in dad’s armchair with Gio nestled cozily on his plastron, the two of them nearly nose to nose and tucked under the cover of the family-favorite quilt. 

If Leo’s tired, it doesn’t show. It’s hard to tell with him even on a good day. But his smile is one of the crooked, sincere ones. 

“It’s nice of you to give me the chance to turn the tables.” Leo pokes one of the spots on Gio’s face. “I get to be the one that helps you out for a change.”

Gio asks something with his hands. Raph can’t see clearly enough from this angle to make out more than just the little question mark wiggle at the end. It makes Leo laugh, warm and golden, spilling light as easily as the glow from the lamp pours into the hallway. 

“Are you kidding? My big brother Georgie is a professional monster-slayer. I learned all my moves from the best.”

Gio doesn’t say or sign anything else—he just considers that statement with a gravity ten times his current age, visibly working it around in his head the way he’d work a jawbreaker around in his mouth. Then he carefully tucks himself under Leo’s chin, one small hand clinging to the long tails of Leo’s mask. 

He doesn’t look like he’s going to fall asleep again, even when Leo starts to hum a song by The Cranberries. He looks more like he’s prepared to soldier awake through the next hundred hours in a row if it means more time to absorb a hug and a song from someone happy to hold him and sing to him. Gio’s big dark eyes stay stubbornly open, even when Leo scritches along the scutes of his tiny spotted carapace, a tried and true tactic to put baby bothers to sleep. 

A riot of tenderness in his chest that only smaller turtles can put there, Raph turns on his heel and takes himself into the kitchen. It’s hot chocolate o’clock. He wonders for a split-second if he should be concerned about Gio’s sugar intake, and then immediately decides that that sweet kid deserves all the spoiling they can manage to pack into however many days they get to have him. 

When Raphael pushes past the noren-style curtains into the kitchen, he’s surprised to find Mikey there already, wide-awake—staunchly proving Leo right about being up with the sun like the bumblebees. 

Only Raph’s little sunshine isn’t very bright this early morning. Mikey is staring hard at his hands, brushing softened butter over rolled-out dough and rubbing a mix of cinnamon and brown sugar on top of that. He must see Raphael in his periphery—or at the very least sense him with the not-unremarkable perception of someone who is all at once a living weapon, trained ninja, and student of mystic arts—but he doesn’t look up or offer a cheerful, cheeky greeting. There is a distinct downward tuck to the corners of his mouth, firmly unsmiling. 

“Hey, kid,” Raph says, watching him as he collects mugs from the cabinet, “everything okay?”

“Uh, no,” Mikey replies sardonically, as if it’s an obvious answer. He battles with himself for all of two seconds before blurting, “I’m not stupid, Raph.” 

Raph has no idea what he’s just walked into, but it doesn’t feel like he’s dealing with a grumpy turtle who woke up on the wrong side of the hammock. There’s a level of real hurt in Mikey’s voice that has all of Raph’s protective instincts rearing their collective head. 

“Nobody said you were stupid,” he says immediately. “You’re everyone’s favorite person. Wars have been waged for less. What’s going on?”

Mikey’s frown deepens, pure upset in his bright red eyes. He moves onto rolling the dough into a tube and continues to pointedly not look at Raph. 

“I keep thinking about the other day. The scars on Gio’s hands that upset you and Leo so much. I didn’t piece it together right away, but I’m not stupid. If Donnie’s tracker that he put on Gio when he was nineteen disappeared, Gio’s scars from then would have gone, too. But they’re still there, because they were there when he was a baby. Someone hurt him. Over and over, until it left a mark.” 

He stops, brow furrowing, face screwing up the way it only does when he’s trying to act older than his age—usually when he’s trying not to cry. 

“And he’s so thin. What the hell. We need more food than humans our age do, we burn through calories like crazy, and I bet—he was probably always hungry, he probably never got to feel full, and that’s not fair. And it’s just another thing that he carries around with him. And none of us ever noticed, because it was already a part of him when we first met.”

The tears finally burn their way out of Mikey’s eyes, dripping down his cheeks. He glares hard at the dough as he portions it into rolls, the set of his jaw daring Raph to comment. 

Raph circles around the island to put a hand on Mikey’s carapace, unable to bear the space of the counter between them for a second longer. When it doesn’t cause the smaller turtle to snap, Raph rubs those sunny patterned scutes the way he can remember doing from as far back as five years old. 

“It’s not fair,” Mikey says again in a voice that wobbles. “He doesn’t tell us stuff. And it wouldn’t matter even if he did ‘cause we couldn’t fix it anyway.”

“We are fixing it,” Raph says, knowing it’s true in his blood and his bones. “You’re fixing it, by doing exactly what you do every day. By doing this,” he adds, tapping the corner of the baking pan that the dough rolls are being nestled into, a just-because little kindness that comes to Michelangelo as easy as breathing. “It means the world to him, Mike. You know it does.”

Mikey rubs his face dry on the inside of the collar of his hoodie, takes a deep breath while he’s still hidden, then pops out and declares, “He deserves it!”

“Hell yeah he does,” Raph rumbles back. 

The rolls are covered and left to rise and the counter is wiped down, utensils and dishes moved to the sink. Then Mikey squares his shoulders and summons a smile. It’s a good one, huge and toothy and dimpled. He’s dredging up that familiar force-of-nature optimism—less naivety and more plain willingness to wrestle the world into the shape he wants it to take one impossible hurdle at a time. 

He spares a moment to shove himself forward into Raph’s arms for a squeeze, and then swings around the island to shoot for the living room at full speed, shouting, “Are we turtle piling?”

“‘Morning, bumblebee,” Raph hears Leo say affectionately. “Hey, Gigi, you think there’s room for Mikey in here?”

“Always room for Mikey,” Gio’s little voice answers clearly. From the way he starts to giggle at the same time Leo lets out a theatrical oof, it must have been all the encouragement Mikey needed to dive right in. 

Their overlapping chatter keeps Raphael company as he heats enough milk to fill four mugs. He isn’t going to go crazy and make the from-scratch stuff on the stove the way Mikey finds any reason to, but he’ll add a dash of cinnamon and vanilla extract to the instant mix the way dad always did when they were kids. And he puts an ice cube in Gio’s, knowing the little gremlin is going to go in for a scalding gulp at the first whiff of chocolate. It’s the work of less than ten minutes, and most of that time is spent waiting on the microwave.

Raph’s fingers are too big for the mug handles, but big enough to comfortably carry all four at once into the living room. He doesn’t so much distribute them as he does hold out his hands and wait for smaller ones to reach out and extract their color-coded drink. 

“Ooh, thanks Raphie!” Mikey says. 

“We’re gonna have to eat raw carrots for lunch at this rate,” Leo says, wrapping both hands around his mug to better absorb the warmth. “Don’t think I didn’t clock the butter and sugar on your sleeve, Michael.”

“Aw, what?” Mikey says, leaning out of the turtle pile enough to check the sleeve in question. He puffs out his cheeks when he finds the stain near his elbow. “Whatever! It’s all for the cause! I’m making cinnamon rolls for my favorite cinnamon roll,” he goes on, nudging his shoulder into Gio’s tiny one.

“Me?” says Gio.

“Of course you,” Leo scoffs playfully. “You see any other cinnamon rolls around here?”

Gio’s eyes are huge and deep and watchful. His mug looks laughably big in his hands. He says, “Your favorite?”

“My favorite ever of all time,” Mikey says, utterly serious. He even means it—all of his siblings are his absolute favorite sibling. 

“Really?” Gio checks in a quiet voice. He ducks a little bit, shoulders curling, as if he’s waiting for them to lose their tempers over all the repeated questions, every inch a little turtle weighing the pros and cons of hiding inside his shell. 

“Really really,” Raph answers right away. 

“Even though I’m a brat?” Gio asks. 

Leo goes so still in Raphael’s periphery that he might as well be carved from stone. Mikey is more obvious about his upset, sucking in a sharp breath that hisses through his teeth. Raph’s last drink of hot cocoa feels blistering as it makes his way down his throat, the rest of him abruptly and absurdly cold. 

“You are not a brat,” Leo says with as much feeling as when he said I missed on purpose. 

“Who said that to you?” Raph asks carefully. 

“Everybody,” Gio says. It would sound matter-of-fact coming from anyone else. It still hurts like a knife to the chest. Especially because Gio’s mouth turns down, and his eyes fall to land in the lukewarm chocolate he isn’t drinking anymore, and he says, “I want to be your favorite Gio instead.”

“You are!” Mikey chokes out, practically a shout, and he doesn’t need the warning look Leo gives him over the top of Gio’s head to know better. He bites the inside of his lip until he’s certain he can control his volume and says, “Don’t you listen to anybody else! You’re our big brother and you’re brave and cool and kind and smart, and we love you so much!” 

Gio doesn’t immediately break into a smile at that, which should have been the first red flag. 

It should have been one of several clues that Raph has been too slow to put together into the obvious picture. Giorgio isn’t a secretive child—he isn’t even really a secretive person at twenty, as mysterious as a plain brick wall—but he speaks so sparingly that it’s hard to gauge when he doesn’t have anything to say, and when he’s doing his best to talk around something that will hurt him. 

Later, Raph will kick himself for not catching it. Gio has been asking over and over what the other Gio is like—the big Gio. The better Gio. He’s been absorbing everything they’ve had to say with a serious little face and a downturned mouth, assimilating the information into his understanding of his place in their family. 

Of course all of that would lead to the place that it does.

Donatello had felt a type of way about finding out he had incidentally been excluded from impromptu early-morning turtle piles and seized custody of their baby brother for the rest of the day in comeuppance. So Gio should have been tucked away in the genius’ bedroom for an afternoon nap, but instead he was wide awake and peeking through Raph’s door.

Gio hugs a teddy bear as big as he is to his stomach, looking up at the much larger turtle with careful, worried eyes, and asks, “When I’m the brother you like again, will Raphie still hug me?”

[just-kiro]

Predictions for the end of the httyd books? (Only about things you haven't been spoiled on ofc, hopefully nothing has been 😭)

Thankfully nothing has been spoiled on me about the ending!

Well the obvious thing that we concluded from literally the first line in this series that dragons no longer exist, also Hiccup is King of the Wilderwest?. Now I'm not sure but I think that means the dragons live far far away in a place nobody can ever reach away from human civilization, the dragons absolutely CANNOT all perish bc I just won't accept that Hiccup would let the wrong people win.

Hiccup obviously set them free from viking's hands, but why? Hiccup believes humans and dragon can live together, so why are they all gone now? I don't understand. Toothless would NEVER leave Hiccup, it happened in the movie but my little stubborn rock head of a dragon Toothless would never, he has no reason to! so I hope he stays alive and Cressida won't pull off some sacrificing bs.

Hiccup will go through shit but somehow he'll manage to somehow heal Furious's broken heart like he always does and the dragons will be on his side (it sounds too nice to actually happen but we'll see)

Also I have a terrible feeling Alvin will be crowned king of the Wilderwest, I don't know how he'll get a hold of Toothless, I don't know how would Hiccup deal with that disaster, but I've seen that man escape the grip of death 5 times already (correct me if I'm wrong cuz I feel I missed one or two) and had managed to built an entire political party with a brutal army with the help of a half blind mother witch that cannot even walk properly, plus getting hold of 9 of the king's Things all while missing an arm, a leg, a nose, an eye and his hair. At this point I'm not too sure we're getting rid of him at the end, it's too good to be true.

And do you think Fishlegs would use his royal blood as an advantage? That would be very cool (regardless that his father is a commoner)

And last but not least, I've never believed Toothless is a Common-or-Garden, sure he looks like one that may be underdeveloped but come on it's been years and he still hadn't grown in size nor grew teeth (I think he had a fang or smt in the first book and it fell during the hunting competition?) not forgetting the dart on his nose, call him a Toothless daydream or whatever, but Toothless is too special to be ordinary, just like his master whom everyone thought was a weaker viking that never fit in but became the last great hero the Wilderwest has ever seen.

And.. that's it! Now the hard part is waiting and watching...

Dear oh dear is it gonna be hard.

[ecstarry]

'The Stores'

James starts working at the video store for the summer and meets Regulus, the guy working at the record store next door.

James had been working on the video store for a week. His manager Remus was nice enough, he kept to himself and spent the entire shift reading. He would probably be better fitted to work on a book store but James didn’t mind the silence. 

The only time Remus would stop reading was to profoundly sigh whenever the volume at the record store next door got too loud. On his first day, James could’ve sworn Remus was going to waltz to the establishment and turn down the music himself. But he just mumbled under his breath and continued reading. 

Seven days in a row this happened until Remus had enough.

“James?” Remus asked.

“Yeah?” 

“You seem like someone people like. You’re sweet, attractive, quite charming.” There was a dissonance between Remus’ monotone voice and what he was saying.

James did not know where this was going. Was this the start of a very inappropriate workplace relationship with his manager? Maybe that’s what his summer needed?

“Sure?” James replied before his pause revealed his thoughts. 

“I do not fit that description. Meaning people don’t respond … well to my requests. I’m going to need you to pay our neighbors a visit and ask them to turn their music down.” Remus said firmly. 

“Ohhh.” 

“What do you mean ‘Oh’? What did you think I was going to say?” 

“I actually had no idea where this was going.” James lied, quickly discarding the thoughts that had briefly crossed his mind. 

Remus simply raised a brow, signaling both that the conversation was over and that he expected James to do as asked.

James nodded and went to the record store. 

He understood why Remus was annoyed, but truthfully James had enjoyed listening to the music they played. He spent the entire week waiting for his paycheck to spend it on some records.

“Hey,” he said as he entered the store. Not loud enough apparently, since the guy organizing the vinyls did not even lift his head. 

James walked towards him and repeated his greeting slightly louder, startling the worker. He barely got to look at him before the guy walked towards the speaker to adjust the volume before coming back to where James was standing. 

“Hi.” 

For a split second James forgot why he was even there. The hottest man he had ever seen was standing in front of him, talking to him. And he had the prettiest eyes and fu- Right. He was talking to him because James had direct orders from his manager to say something. 

“Hey.”

The guy laughed at his sudden shyness. But right then there, James knew he had just found his favorite song of the summer. That laugh.

“I work at the video store.” Was all he could manage to say. 

“I know, James.” 

Hearing his name sent an immediate shiver down his spine. Had he blacked out and introduced himself at some point? Before he could spiral for any longer, the worker spoke again. 

“You are wearing your name tag," he pointed at it. "I’m Regulus, not a psychic.”

“Oh, yeah that makes sense.” A nervous laughter poured out of him. He felt his cheeks flush.

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I was just wondering if-” He couldn't finish his thought.

Today had to be James’ lucky day. A breeze drifted through the door, lifting Regulus’ shirt just enough to reveal his briefs and a hint of a happy trail.

“James?” Regulus asked, blushing as he caught James staring.

He tried to gather his thoughts but all he could do was replay the last thirty seconds in his mind.

“Umm, actually it doesn’t matter.... You should stop by the video store some day though.” James leaned into one of the shelves and almost fell, getting another laugh out of Regulus. He thought he might spend every single day trying to hear it again.

“Are you going to be there?”

James nodded enthusiastically. 

“I’ll see you around then James.” Regulus said. A faint curve forming at the edge of his lips.

James came back to the video store practically skipping. 

“I'm guessing it all went smoothly?” Remus asked, taking James out of his own thoughts. 

“Yeah it went great. Actually if you ever need me to talk to them again it’s no problem.” James assured with a grin.

Remus looked at him confused but didn't probe further.

James went back to his place and thought about Regulus.

This was going to be a great fucking summer. 

[alexanderlightweight]

Hi, all your wonderful series are just chef's kiss.

Could I ask for a follow up after Magnus and Ragnor discussed who needs to be offed to prevent Kelpie!Alec from finding out. Would love to see if they found a ritual for the council to discreetly cleaned up everyone. Especially Camille and making jewellery out of her soul for Alec.

Thank you.

thank you so much! uh this got a bit more team immortal being soft about each other? I think I don't know I just love them. here is the last bit I hope you enjoy

<3 lumine

undertow

“Camille was before Alexander and while I know I’ve mourned her plenty, I haven’t even seen her in the last half a decade.” Magnus says half an hour later as he frowns at a page, “I don’t think using her as a focal will work. Now for what we want, or need. What I had with Camille was something far deeper than what I’ve shared with any since she broke my heart.”

Ragnor’s heart falters before galloping wildly in his chest, he begs the world and his very magic that Magnus has not changed his mind, that Magnus will not relent in his justice against Camille once again.

“But she still needs to be dealt with.” Catarina’s voice cuts through his panic. A soft, gentle reminder yet firm, like a life-giving river that still cuts through rock, over time.

Magnus doesn’t react poorly.

He doesn’t even turn, a half-hearted scoff of laughter bursting from his lips as he flips another page.

“Of course she does, and quickly.  I just don’t think she should be included in this ritual... will make it a bit messy don’t you think?” And then Magnus hesitates, finger tapping on a line of faded ink. “And while I have wooed Alexander by his own customs, I’ve hardly courted him by my own, let alone what is demanded for a warlock of my rank.  Something made from the heart of my last true lover will do nicely to prove my sincerity.”

Catarina understands his meaning before Ragnor and she smiles, teeth sharp and gleaming with delight as fondness and joy crinkles the corners of her eyes.  Her hair gleams like starlight against the deep indigo of her skin and the universe blinks at him when her lashes flutter and her eyes close with laughter.

“If your boy does ever find out the truth, you can prove your intentions are true despite the misunderstanding. As is your ardor.  Doubling up, even tripling the courtship gives it more legitimacy as well.  Your Alexander can hardly feel cheated when you’ve chained him to you with vow and magic, oath and deed.”

Magnus nods, pleased by the answer they’ve found and Ragnor finds that he’s just still marveling at how easily Catarina follows Magnus during one of his moods.

Mainly the kind of brilliant mood that Ragnor is far too old and exhausted to keep up with this late in the season.

“How on earth did you manage to glean all that from what he was saying?” Ragnor can’t help his grumble even though he keeps it low. “I was still worried we’d have to re-convince him to do away with the leech.”

Catarina tuts and smacks his fingers with a flick of magic but doesn’t disagree, which means she’s agreeing.

“Yes, I could see your panic when you thought that once again, she’d escape what she’s due.” Cat’s voice dips into an anger so soft it feels like ash against his ears, “however Magnus is too enamoured to currently remember anything but his disdain of her.  The pain she’s held over him, toyed at him with, it’s not vanished but it’s no longer raw. 

“She can no longer hold the good memories like a sword against the bad when he’s creating almost nothing but good memories with his boy. There’s something now that exists, more interesting than the pain, more bright than her bitterness and in order to not let the wounds be reopened, he knows he has to let go.  Before—” Catarina’s voice trails off and she glances over to where Magnus is engrossed in a diagram, “before he had to hold onto the pain.  It was proof she cared for him, loved him, at one point.  Even if it was all a lie, he needed that lie, but he needs it no longer.”

A moment passes between them, silent and understood and full of love for each other and Magnus, who gleams like a small sun under their adoring gaze.

“This one,” Magnus calls to them, voice raised with dark glee. “Not only will it rejuvenate the wards of the Labyrinth but 

“Oh, very clever.” Ragnor himself would never have considered using such a unique ritual in such an innovative way, but that’s all the more reason for why he insists Magnus join him when he researches. 

The ritual will erase connections.  

Typically those of blood but Magnus has no blood to erase left in any realm, except that of his father.  However there is another use, for those who hold worshippers and wish to cleanse their followers and start anew.

With the use of semen and saliva instead of blood or a tether of worship, Magnus can instead find those anointed by his touch and in a way, excommunicate them.

From life.

AN:

Alec is napping (magnus is not sleeping right now he’s just disappearing when Alec does sleep to plot) in the new roof pond and Magnus is going to have a hell-of-a-time luring his darling out from the cool waters

Magnus is going to sleep eventually, he just wants some things straightened out first.

[thetrasha]

Oh my gosh I love your stuff! And brook is my favorite too, love what you've written about him. What WOULD be a senerio that you think brook would actually confess his feelings? I feel like it would take accidentally finding the person he's fallen for like talking to themselves (or some other situation) but clearly saying that they love him, or if said person was dead/at deaths door. I'd love to hear your opinion, or if you'd feel inspired to write something from this even better

Brook Nation, you’re very welcome (✿◠‿◠)I’m so happy I got two Brook requests already. I know most people following me (thanks btw guys!!) probably do not care at all about the funny skeleton man, but this is my calling – and I think you’re absolutely right in both cases. He would certainly act fast when the reader was dying/had a near death experience, but this would also break him beyond repair… since I’m not in the mood for heavy angst today, I chose the former!! So… here’s the scenario🫡 It's cute and funny, yay

PS. I regret nothing, but this is quite long... (like almost 3k words long bye)

Love Me Tender, Love Me Sweet

BROOK EDITION

Today had been a bad day for Brook. It seemed that the world was just against him on this cursed day!

First thing in the morning: He woke up late because he’d been playing piano well into the night, trying to perfect a tune his beloved would never even hear, but he’s coping well with that. He just has to get it all out on a weekly basis, mastering his compositions until he was certain that you’d like them. His music has gotten a lot sadder and slower within the last few months – the more his love for you grew, the deeper his heartbreak cut into him. To want something this badly, knowing that he’ll never get it… it was a miserable experience, but your presence certainly sweetened the deal he made with himself. Brook would allow himself to dote on you as long as it wouldn’t ever cross a line. Maybe he’d be the best man at your wedding… you know, because he cares so much as your best friend. He’d love to see you happy even if it would kill him.

Of course, that wasn’t all. Those feelings – he’s gotten used to them by now. They just… exist. The thing that really annoyed him was the fact that, due to waking up so late in the first place, he couldn’t brew a tea pot for you and him to share. Instead, when he sat down at the breakfast nook, he watched as you accepted a nice cup of tea with honey from Sanji, who swooned at your praise at the surprising taste, with you voicing that you weren’t used to beverages this sweet.

Dejected, Brook ate a tuna sandwich and the scrambled eggs you saved for him in silence and drank coffee for the first time in a long time.

This was supposed to be your alone time! You loved sleeping in, so Brook usually saved a plate for you before Luffy could get to your favourites. He’d read the News Coo Newspaper and watched as, one by one, the others left the room; Usopp normally helped cleaning up with Sanji and Robin sneaked Chopper a sweet treat. That’s how it goes.

Not today, clearly. Nami immediately snatched you up after breakfast and took you to the observation room, probably making you bring her all sorts of maps and foreign books.

Which means that Brook was all alone again, his routine entirely broken.

He aimlessly wandered around the ship. Just before lunch, he bumped into Zoro in the crow’s nest. The fellow swordsman challenged him to a spar, but the virtuoso knew it was going to be a pitiful struggle because he wasn’t on top of his game at all. He’d rather think about you than evade Zoro’s ruthless swings and hard-hitting jabs. So… expectedly, Brook was beaten horribly – a new low. His First Mate friend even commented that the skeleton had been kind of off since this morning, and wondered aloud whether Franky would be up for a sparring session instead.

Tired of dealing with everyone, Brook decided to skip lunch. He wasn’t hungry anyway. Well, he was dead, so those nourishing calories would be wasted on him anyway. Eating and drinking was a simple pleasure of life he didn’t want to miss, but it hasn’t been a need for so long…

You and him should be in the library right now. Or he could help you pick fresh tangerines from Nami’s trees, grasping at the fruit that were too high up, ones you couldn’t reach and gently placing them in your woven basket with his signature laugh. You’d wear Luffy’s straw hat to shield you from the harsh sun because the captain was usually napping around with Zoro after lunch and you’d look so, so beautiful looking up at the skeleton man and thanking him with a bright grin that would cause any man’s heart to stop. You truly looked the best when you smiled at Brook, though, he concluded.

Maybe that’s why it hurt to be alone right now. Yes, yes… you weren’t gone – God forbid. You were just busy. It happens to anyone on this crew from time to time, especially when their captain drags them, yet again, into one of his messes, but you were regularly busy with Brook. Like a package deal, you were inseparable. The others even started signing you up for the same tasks on the same days, just to help you two out. Brook was eternally grateful for such amazing friends, but he couldn’t help but wish that there were just two people on this ship right now.

Music always cheered him up. Music was his lifeline. It would clear his head and maybe he’d even come to terms with a new routine… even though the mere idea of you drifting away from him from now on sent shivers of agony down his bony spine. Music it is!

He ignored all the compositions of sheet music flying out of his locker in the men’s quarters. Most of these were dedicated to you, which means he absolutely couldn’t play them now. It would probably cause him to cry – you’d be around to listen to his love confession without a clue of what it’d mean, as intended by him. That wouldn’t do, no! Brook was supposed to be happy for your sake, even in your absence, even if it did hurt to be away from you, without talking to you for a mere day.

How in the world did he manage to go half a century without this?!

He picked up his secret stash of paper and shoved it back into his locker, slamming the door shut with a grumble. He’d just play one of the old sea shanties he knew by heart, no written notes needed. This would certainly take his mind off of things!

…Yet as soon as he positioned his violin at his chin and started tuning it, the A-string broke with the first touch of his finger and the end still attached to the tuning box hit him square in the face. Just when he was out of replacement strings, too! Damn it!

In that very moment, Brook wanted to snap his precious instrument in half.

“This is it”, he thought angrily. He still had a few hours to kill before dinner, so… he sighed, defeated. This day wasn’t ever supposed to be like this. You should be here, letting his head rest on your lap as he fiddled with his violin, just to play you a song. Hell, he’d even try and make up a song without using any notes on the A string, harmonious sound be damned. You liked his music because he liked playing all kinds of instruments and singing along, not necessarily because you wanted to hear vintage tunes from 50 years ago…

And he loved that about you.

You’d know what to do. Yes, you’d… you’d know how to fix this, even if you didn’t miss him at all. You probably had a wonderful time spending the day with Nami and Jinbe, discussing the best route to take once the Log Pose recalibrated…

But… he needed you. As a friend. As a friend.

Brook stalked through the halls, his thin, long legs carrying him at a breakneck pace without even working up a sweat. He was standing in the library, looking at Jinbe’s drawing board with interest. Just like that, you vanished. Again. And the other crew members weren’t here either! What… what in the world happened?!

“You’re terrible.”, you chuckled all of the sudden, clearly amused.

Oh great, now he’s hearing you inside his head.

Hearing the voices of his friends – he thought he ended that habit thirty years ago. The illusions of company were, at some point after all, more painful than coming to terms with his solitude. It makes total sense to hear your beloved’s voice when you miss them, though.

Absolutely no need to worry…

“I’m just saying, (Y/N)! He hasn’t made that joke in months. Come on, you have to tell us!”

…Nami? Why would he hear Nami now? And why is she talking to you?! Has he finally succumbed to reality? Was he but a ghost watching you interact with others, imagining his skeletal body-

“I have to admit, I’m curious, too.”

“Not you too, Robin!”, you cried out. The other women evidently laughed at your expense.

Wait… wait a damn minute. Brook wasn’t going crazy.

“Come on, (Y/N)~ Even Chopper knows all about it. Right, Robin?”

“Well…, yes. It’s hardly subtle.”

There was a slight pause.

“Haaaah… fine.”

Th-the ladder… next to him… it led right into the bathhouse.

“Yes, I… like him. No, we are not a couple.”, you murmured, voice uncharacteristically meek.

…

???!??!??!?!?!?!?!?!?

WHO?!

Brook grit his teeth, feeling his jaw tighten up.

He should be happy! So happy! You’ll find love, likely even within this crew. He’d be so happy to see you enjoy your life. This pain won’t linger, it’ll be gone tomorrow. Maybe he’ll get over it even sooner, because he knows that you’re experiencing all facets of being alive, something your resident musician here cannot claim for himself. He doesn’t want to take that from you with his petty jealousy.

BUT… now that this is out in the open, he cannot walk away from here. He has to listen to who it is that you loved.

“YOU’RE NOT EVEN A-!!”

“SHHHH! Nami!!”

He heard splashes of water and Robin hummed in acknowledgment of the scene.

Was it Luffy?! He wouldn’t treat you right at all! He’s too naive and doesn’t know how to respect you properly. Brook remembers how awfully disappointed you were when the captain ate one of the dishes you brought with you from your childhood home…

Maybe Zoro… even though, well. Brook admires his skills, but he is quite rough. Doesn’t talk much, doesn’t offer emotional security. Zoro lets you talk most of the time, which may be comfortable for some, but you, you deserved better…

Usopp – Brook just couldn’t see it. Sure, you were friends, too. But you need someone who could take care of you! Besides, Usopp spilled paint on you two weeks ago and ruined your favourite shoes. You and Brook spent a whole evening cleaning them…

Hopefully not Sanji! That man may be a great chef and decent guy, but his flirting habit would only cause you pain. That has to go before Brook would even begin to approve of him. So, no!

What about Fr-

“No, we’re not. He probably doesn’t even like me back, guys.”

This man! Whoever it is, he should have to pay for making you so sad! Any man would be lucky to have you fall for him. As soon as Brook knows his name, he’ll give him a stern talking to. You won’t be this dejected after your best friend rips him apa-

“But Brook likes you.”

“ROBIN!!!”, you squeaked.

YES, ROBIN?!??!?!?! What was that for?! Robin may know, but you don’t have to know that???!??!?

This will make everything so awk-

“He does, though. Have you considered asking him?”

“Robin, with all due respect, I can’t make a move on a man who’s finally found himself after years and years of loneliness, that’s cruel.”

...Huh?

“That won’t bother him. Brook would appreciate it.”

“Please, Rob-”

“No, (Y/N), she’s right! He wanted to kill Sanji this morning, just because you liked Sanji’s tea… and Sanji then gave you the heart eyes. Oh, he was livid!”

“Nami, you are surely misinterpreting-”

“I saw it with my own eyes!!”

You… you like him, too?

You…

You…

“Did you guys hear that thud?”

“I think Brook fainted in the library.”

“WHAT?!”

Brook dreamt of you. Oh, you were finally paying attention to him. This day wasn’t so bad after all, now that he has you back right where you belonged. He could smell your shampoo, as if it was still sopping wet and lathered. He loved that scent, just because you liked it and now it smelt like familiar comfort to him.

And you said his name like you loved him. He’s had that dream often, but it’s never been this vivid. You’d usually play card games or maybe you’d take a walk near the shore together, or…

“Brook!”

Ah, what a sound. So worried, so pure.

“Brook!”

Yes, my love?

“BROOK!”

Haha, I love you, too. Forever and ever.

Then Nami entered his field of vision. Strange, she's never been in these dreams. And she looked particularly angry. In her tight grasp, she held a jug – wait, he's seen this. Franky showed it to him once, bragging about the Lotus Robin grew, apparently native to Water 7. Before the musician could even think about its contents, she dumped it all over him.

“He has Devil fruit powers! Oh, no! Brook!”, you cradled his head against your chest while he heaved, feeling just how badly the stale water affected him. Where did Nami even get seawater from?!

“It’s not that bad. Look. He’s awake. And I’ll be going. Good luck!!”

You looked at him with wide eyes, touching his hair to flick pieces of algae away. You looked truly lost in that moment, and it’s been quite some time since Brook has seen you like this, like you wanted to cry because of him. Poor you… you probably thought that your friendship was in jeopardy, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. This was just like when you accidentally spilled ink on his sheet music from his Soul King Tour. The song wasn’t that important. In fact, he barely remembers writing it. You were still so sad about it, apologised profusely, even though you copied the entire page by hand, just for him – with gaps, since you didn’t know what lied beneath the ink stains. You thought you’d destroyed something precious to him, but that also couldn’t be further from the truth.

He was happy to see you practising with his notes in the first place, like his world was worth something to you.

He wrote an even better song that night. Your favourite genre, of course.

“I love you.”

You drew in a deep breath, bracing for pain.

“You don’t have to say that, Brook. I’m grown, I can deal with-”

But Brook would never cause you pain again. Not when he can take the weight off of you and lift your burdens, like a proper partner should.

“It seems that I hurt you, my dear. My apologies. I promise to never, ever keep a secret from you again. If I have to decide between causing you agony or seeing you thrive, the choice is quite easy. I’m sorry for not letting you bind yourself to me. I mistakenly thought you’d be happier without… me, free without baggage, alive without death clinging to your everything. I was blind to your love, because I denied my own. I love you – so, so much. You’re such a rare treasure. The kindest soul at sea, don’t you ever forget it...”

Tears ran down your cheeks, but Brook could only smile. He loved your expressions – your face always mirrored his own, only that he doesn’t have the means to express himself quite so vividly anymore. That’s okay, for he has you, and you have him. Forever.

His hand weakly supported your head as your hold on him weakened, trying to regain your composure. You were probably embarrassed for showing your emotions so openly and promptly, but he’s known what love does to a person. Irrationality is no sin, especially not when it’s about you loving him like he loves you.

“I love you. I really do. I… always did.”

You nuzzled your cheek into his bony palm. For a moment, he feared that you might hate the hardness of his bones as opposed to the softness of skin and tissue, but you never once minded his touch, not even now.

“I love you, too, Brook. Always did.”

“Always?”

“Always.”

This really turned out to be the best day of his life. Ever.

[dodger432101]

No I don’t regret putting Celeste through the angst😈😈😈 However, I would like to request something fluffier. How about we show Grandpa Reginald Pyle some love?

Could I please request a little bit Reginald Pye helping to raise Celeste alongside Reader and Lux. I’d imagine Grandpa Pye does dearly love Celeste, even though it can be hard for him to keep up with some of her antics at his age. At least most of them are harmless, even if sometimes a lightbulb breaks unintentionally because Celeste wanted to show off to her grandfather the new tricks her papa taught her or she came up with😆

[We love and appreciate Mr Pye in this house, he deserved better]

Having a demigod for a child wasn’t the easiest, to put it lightly. Especially when her father happens to be a member of the Pantheon of Discord. Luckily for you, there was always someone who had your back, even while Lux was gone. Mr Reginald Pye. 

Your boss quickly stepped into a grandfather role for Celeste, buying plenty of supplies that you needed and also taking care of her when you needed a break. It quickly became clear that you were both in over your heads as your daughter took no time with learning she could control the light from lightbulbs. And make them explode. At first it scared all 3 of you, giving a short break from having to buy more, until Celeste got used to the sound of shattering glass. It’s a miracle Mr Pye has any hair from his nerves being shot so many times. He couldn’t even take her for a walk to put her to sleep, the light from the sun seemed to fuel her energy. Your bedroom is shrouded in darkness whenever it’s her naptime. 

When Lux returns, Reginald gladly hands over the duties of taking care of her. He loves his granddaughter dearly, but he’s far too old for this (like Lux isn’t a God that’s lived for centuries). At least once a week he visits your house to check on how little Celeste is doing, where she usually shows off whatever abilities she’s learned or any new toys she has. The haul of presents from the Pantheon lasted her at least 4 visits. The Gods of Chaos were quite generous when it came to their newest and youngest member. 

As she gets older, you take her to Palazzo to watch some films (with the promise that she doesn’t mess with the movie if other people are there). Reginald watches in part amazement and horror on the day where the theatre is empty and Celeste summons the characters right from the screen. “And I thought seeing Mr Ring-A-Ding crawl out into the theatre was bad..” Poor guy’s a little traumatised from watching 15 people be trapped in film. He doesn’t fear it for much longer, not when the excited little girl with golden eyes comes bouncing over to him, pointing to her handiwork with a huge grin. 

You and Lux watch from your seats as she pulls Mr Pye down to the stage to meet her cartoon friends. It was nice to see her with her granddad, interacting with the human side of her family. “Sometimes I can’t believe she’s mine..” 

That causes you to look over at your lover. “What do you mean?” He turns his attention to you, a strained smile on his face. 

“It’s hard to believe that adorable girl was made from my essence.” Lux gazes down at his hands, turning them over. “She’s bringing out cartoon characters to be friends with them. I trapped a bunch of people in here, got close to killing a Time Lord in this very theatre! I guess it’s just..” He sighs, looking back to his daughter. “It’s hard to believe that little bundle of joy came from a God like me.” Your hand carefully goes to his shoulder, getting his attention back on you. 

“Don’t act like you haven’t used your abilities for good reasons either. She’s already pulling characters out of films, who’s to say she won’t put someone in one later down the line? She has the capacity to do everything you’ve done, maybe even more than you.” 

He tenses at the thought. “I won’t let it get to that. Well, she can be more powerful than me, I have a feeling she’s quickly getting there. I just don’t want her using her powers for the wrong reasons. If she got The Doctor’s attention..” The hand on his shoulder tightens its grip slightly. The both of you had worried about it, after Lux was gone for years following his encounter with the Time Lord. 

“She won’t. It took months after you trapped 15 people, surely we’d have time for her to make amends if she did anything that bad. But she won’t, not with us keeping an eye on her.” Your God leans against your arm, antennae curling into a heart as your hand moves from his shoulder to his head and scratches at the hair at the back. “You’re Gods of Chaos, of course Celeste is going to want to play around with her abilities. Chaos isn’t necessarily bad though, right? I know you and the rest of the Pantheon aren’t all truly malevolent beings, I wouldn’t be here if you were. You just.. Don’t see the universe in the same way, humans are so below you that we don’t matter. But Celeste is part human, she’s growing up around humans, she’ll have more empathy towards them. Hopefully.” The both of you chuckle, looking over as your daughter calls you two. She’s brought out Mr Ring-A-Ding. 

“Dagnabbit, Celeste, you know I don’t like that little-” 

“Language, Lux Imperator.” You quickly wrap your hand around his mouth, glaring back at his grumpy expression. When he taps your arm twice you let him go. 

“Yes, Mrs Imperator. Now, you!” You’re too stunned and flustered to stop him from chasing his mirror image around the theatre. Of course he’d pull that to keep you off his back while he deals with Ring-A-Ding, Celeste running after them while giggling. 

Mr Pye sits down in the seat he had been in, laughing at your strong blush. “What a strange little family you’ve made for yourself. Still, I’m glad to be a part of it. Your daughter is incredible, just like her parents. Though less intimidating than her dad.” 

“She is.” You smile as you watch her wrestle.. Yep, she’s got Lux on the ground, whacking him with a large cartoon hammer supplied by his doppleganger. “Celeste, stop beating up your father.” 

“Yes, mom!” Now she’s after Ring, your lover left to peel himself from the floor, giving you a thumbs up and shaky grin. What were you going to do with those two?