#the tiny fucking animals on the internet are free and you can take them with you
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reminding myself there are no truly "bad days", because every single day, someone somewhere in the world has taken a photo of an extremely tiny animal and shown it to someone else, and that's very good actually
#buny text#bless the people who take photos of incredibly small baby bunnies and post them on line. they are what keeps me going#when i was running the bunnieswithVGM twitter it was like. genuinely a healing experience getting to look at rabbit photos regularly#i highly recommend looking at pics of very small rabbits and thinking to yourself 'you tiny fucking thing. how do you exist'#it's very important and also fun. and then you can share those images with a friend#the tiny fucking animals on the internet are free and you can take them with you
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Parents, whatever you do, please please PLEASE don't take away your children's lifelines, especially when they're in a vulnerable age.
Today, my dad made me delete my AO3 account and the emotional pushback was one of the worst feelings I've experienced.
It's not like it was unguided either, nor was the decision to do so uninformed.
My dad only wants the best for me, both my parents do, and I know that. I know that they love me, and I know that they'll be there for me in more ways than one.
But on some days, it's really fucking hard to see that.
Today was one of those days.
I've been briefed with the dangers of the internet at that start of grade five. I have had my issues with technology misuse as well. In those times, my only interest was youtube and shitty (and I say that with the most loving tone possible) gacha glms with cliche plotlines.
I loved reading, anyone that knows me can tell you that. I have more books stacked in my room than my mom's study. I also love animes and cartoons--- what kid doesn't? I discovered Darling In The FRANXX that summer and I was hooked (the love story was tragic and it was one of the first times I felt the hurt).
I love stories, I love reading them, I love imagining myself as one of characters as well.
So you can imagine what 11 year old me did when she found the existence of fanfiction. Of AO3 and a bunch of other sites like Fanfic.net, Wattpad and Quora.com.
I was estactic, more ways than one. One of the best things that came from that eye opening discovery for me was the community behind it.
People sharing their work for free? Other people loving it and being supportive to the author simply because they can? The entire treasure trove of possibilities and stories that everyone made, shared, and got love for it?
The entire concept was forgein to sixth grade me.
I was aware it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. I know how cyberbullying works, I've seen how hateful and downright terrible people can be behind a screen, hell, one of my best friends was being bullied by the entire grade that way.
(Reported it and got every single one of my acquaintences marked black on their student records that year. Some tried to bully me afterwards but by that point, I was armed with quirkless vigilante Midoriya Izuku stories and as an inspiring artist, I was feeling particularly creative. I won the school's art talent show that year with my comic being sent to every parent, student and teacher on the school's email list (Covid-19's only contribution to my life).)
Me being me, I signed up for AO3. I read for a while, and doing not much else. I had over 20 tabs opened on any given day, all with different stories. I wandered around many fandoms, all related to the media I was consuming at the time.
I remembered thinking 'why doesn't this certain fic exist?' After all, the entire concept of fanfiction was to create things that don't ever get to see the light of day otherwise, right?
I didn't hit me until the annual book week competiton (online) the school held.
I was supposed to write them. Write the stories that I love so much. Give that tiny idea a spark of life, and watch it expand and embrace other readers lovingly.
English is my second language, and my grammar was actrocious until I started reading. Reading fanfics. I never realized how annoying not having the right sequence of words can be, for the writer and for the reader as well.
Until I saw with my own two eyes a badly writen Wattpad oneshot with P.O.V. formatting and horrible first person perspective.
My writing skills improved, and my teachers were questioning me left and right about my supposed misuse of 'online writing/paraphrasing tools'. It was amazing seeing how my grades improved.
But I was still hesitant.
I asked my mom to see if I should write a story that I thought of. She told me fiction wouldn't help me later in life, that living in a delusional fantasy world wasn't what made her and dad sucessful (in words a 6th grader can unserstand).
I asked my dad the same thing. He looked me in the eyes and told me that if I couldn't solve a motherfucking math problem as easy as the one I asked him for help the other day*, I shouldn't be daydreaming about doing useless shit like this (again, in words an eleven year old could understand).
*I was learning the Ontario ciriculum. Dad learned the government issued one when he was a kid. The contents taught at different grades vary, because they both have different endgames (my school aims to improve on student's learning skills (responsibility, cooperation, initative, etc.) while his was focused on material study value (memorizing formulas, being able to write a 6 page discriptive essay in twenty minutes, memorizing the periodic table, etc.)). What I was learning was taught to him at grade 4. He was very frustrated that I couldn't solve a simple math problem on basic probability while I was panicking/crying next to him because I didn't understand what he was yelling at me for.*
My sister was begging me to spare people from my crazy ideas because she being tortured with them was enough (she was three years younger than me).
I was lost, to be honest. But again, fanfiction spoke to me like some deranged fandom god and I remebered a line that basically boiled down to 'If you give up because haters want you to, they're winning.'
So I wrote my first fanfiction. Took me a week to muster up the courage to post it.
I waited.
Three hours later, I had my first hit.
I was up in the clouds. Somebody read it. Someone read my supposedly idiotic idea.
Twleve hours later, my first kudos came in.
I was in heaven all over again.
Days, weeks, months passed.
And the support and love just kept coming in.
I was happy. I found my community. I have people showing me that they appreciated my hard work, my dedication to my story. I improved so much since I started. I learned that it was okay to be burnt out. I learned that it was perfectly fine if you needed a break from other people, sometimes even your hobby. I learned that not everyone enjoys the same thing, and to not really mind it if I get a mean comment here and there. I learned that if it was there choice to read my work, hate on it, and make that hate known when they could've pressed the 'go back' button, they aren't worth my emotional strength.
The AO3 community taught me more about life than my own parents. It happened in the span of eight months.
I walked into grade 7 with a spring in my step, with a new confidence in myself. Fanfic stayed with me throughout those times, even when puberty forced me to make some incredibly irrational decisions during my mood swings.
Writing, creating, and sharing my artworks became one of my lifelines. It was something I loved. Loved more than reading itself.
In 8th grade, I made new friends. A new girl transferred, and she was basically glued to her laptop with her large, heavy glasses falling off every 10 minutes. I engaged her in conversation, and she asked me if I watched Haikyuu.
That opened a new dam of possibilities.
I didn't watch the anime, nor did I read the manga, but I was circulating around crossovers long enough to know much of the storyline (TPN x Haikyuu! was one of my favorites).
She and I became fast friends.
It became clear to me that she has issues of her own. Issues that I once had, but much more severe.
She starved herself during lunch for over two months because she didn't have enough time to complete her never ending extracirricular work that her parents made her do. She was shitting terrified of her own mother, so much so that during our Halloween party, she was having a panic attack and trying to eat glass because the container of food she brought broke (it dropped because someone bumped into her) and her mother made it (it took three of us to hold her back and my homeroom teacher (bless you Mr. Kaan) telling her to blame him if her mother asks for her to stop trying to hospitalize herself). She had emotional breakdowns over every single grade she recieved because it wasn't a perfect score like her parents were expecting (her grades averaged around 89-99 depending on the subject).
I did my best to help her, but I could only do so much as a kid.
So I gave her what held me through my self-justified fights with my family--- AO3, fanfiction and creative writing.
She came a long way since then. Her changes were astounding and her personality shifted from 'desperate people pleaser' to 'eccentric but pretty chill lunatic'. Her mother was less than pleased with how obnoxiously weird her daughter was getting, but my friend was finding herself again after 9 years of dedicating her life to academics and no way in hell was I going to let her feel bad about that.
My own grades were around a 95% average, and my parents were happy. My English mark only got better, and I also wrote a fic in Vietnamese to further strengthen my native writing.
Then shit hit the fan.
I came home today exhausted from school--- my head was a mess, highschool wasn't easy; especially when you have PE last period. I dropped dead on my bed as soon as a stepped into my room, sweaty uniform and all.
When I woke up, dad was home and three hours passed.
I took a shower, did some prep for dinner while waiting for my mom to finishing her run, and relaxed on the couch with my sister and dad.
Dad looked at me and said 'Oh yeah. [OP] you're not allowed to write those stories of yours anymore.'
I asked him why. He won't just randomly do things like this.
'You're a kid, you don't understand the dangers of the internet.'
He then proceeded to list out the suicide statistics from people who ended themselves from the hate they recieved online.
It's a horrible thing.
But I already knew that. I knew since I was given my dusty old tablet that needed an ethernet cable to work. That was four years ago.
What astonised me was that it took my dad, a man who was resourceful and very competent, four fucking years to find out about this.
I distinctly remember him making me quit a fandom discord server after my sister befriended someone online and got not so nice things said to her. I also distinctly remember him reading through my messages, private ones with my friends, classmates and teachers in my DMs, groupchats and emails to make sure i wasn't slacking off. He also had his IT guy install a tracking function on my laptop to monitor my shit.
I get where he was taking this--- he and mom didnt have the best online support sharing their experiences in life. They got harrased, hated on, walked all over and accused of horrible things. My parents braved through it all, and never faltered even if they got spitted on.
Now that he was armed with the knowlegde that I could potentially be harmed to death, something even worst than what he experienced, he wasn't willing to give it up to chance.
Dad didn't believe I was ready. He thought I was lucky to haven't encountered a single mean comment before he got his wake up call and enforced this. He doesn't believe in the existence of a communtiy that didn't gain anything for their contributions, but still existed.
It was too good to be true for him, and he told me as such.
I was the younger one here, by decades. I was his kid, and I was the bumbling fawn that didn't know better.
I was told I didn't understand, wouldn't understand what he was doing for me.
My mom agreed.
But I did.
I know what they're trying to do. I know that they only want the best for me, that they didn't want me to face the dangers yet.
But I already have, and came out victorious on the other side, better than ever.
I told them so seriously, and added that I was aware of the dangers and already seen what it was like. I saw what it can do to a person, my fifth grade bestie wad proof of that, and was on the recieving ends of some nasty hate myself.
This didn't deter them, only alarmed them about how nonchalant I was being. They told me I was delusional, that I was adeicted to finding praise and validation by strangers on the internet and that I was wasting my time and effoet over a useless hobby that didnt give me anything in return. That I was being a hormonal teenager who only pushed her loving parents away, that frankly nobody cares about my works, that it's shit compared to what other better, more talented and much more sucessful people have written.
They said the fact that I've seen what vitirol could be spilled online and haven't ran away with my tail betwen my legs only proved that I was vulnerable to the clutches of such a toxic environment. That I wasn't ready for the hate, and I don't need unwarranted attention over some words that a baby could babble.
That's what they said.
That was not true.
That was SO not true.
I wasn't delusional, I wasn't a starry eyed kid that was naive to the horrors of society. I didn't waste my time, I didn't maintain a 'unsustainable' hobby because of my need to feel uselessly egoistic. I wasn't being irrational over my hurt, I wasn't being weak for standing strong against the wave.
I know I wasn't the best out there, that so many more could do better than me. I learned I didn't need to work for love, that it should be given freely for those that need it. I understood that my works of art are unique and I should feel proud of them, and I believe I did it even better than they could have.
I have pride in my works, my accomplishments, my understanding and lessons that I've learned independent from what my real life adult figures taught me.
And it paid off. My works have 3-4k hits each.
Three thousand to four thousand people have read my story. My works that my family didn't believe was any good.
Even my cousins, whom I see as my older siblings, were skeptical of how sucessful I was until it smacked them right in the face.
I was proud of what I did, and I have every right to.
My dad wasn't happy.
I put up a fight. I didn't want to give up my babies, I didn't want to abandon my unfinished projects. I have three running series, I have friends that I supported, that supported me. I have people tell me how much my work meant to them, and I told other authors how much their works meant to me as well.
My mom had this thing were she tells me to do something that she wanted me to do that was either out of my comfort zone, I wasn't ready to or just plain refused--- and that she'll tell me I did a good job afterwards.
It was empty praise. But I still did it because it was the only validation I recieved as a child.
Then I had other people tell me that I did good, out of their violation. That I was amazing, that I should be proud of myself. These were total strangers on the internet. Someone behind the screen loved what I did more than my mom, my dad, my sister, my family.
It helped me. It was pretty much the only stable support pillar I had that I knew I didn't need to uselessly maintain. That the communtiy would still be there for me even if I stopped posting for several years and never came back.
Everything that I had was destroyed with a psuh of a button. Dad gave an ultimatum.
Either I never post again, delete my account completely and never step foot into AO3 again, even for reading; or all my technology would be conficasted until I did so.
It was a no brainer. I would've easily given up my techno privilegdes for my stories to live on.
But theres a catch.
Finals was in four weeks.
And in those four weeks, I have summative projects and assignments that were worth up to 50% of my grade.
I can't do any of those projects or the finals itself without my tech.
Dad knew this. He sent me some study material just yesterday.
And he was there, watching my mom press the delete button. I wasn't even able to orphan my works--- mom pressed the 'delete completely' option.
I'm angry.
I'm mad.
I'M LIVID.
I am sobbing while writing this. It hurts. It so goddam bad. It hurts because your only reliable source of support was taken away violently. It hurts because you parents treat you like a maniac anti-fan. And that they're so stuck up in their heads that they didn't even consider what it would do to me.
Dad asked me why I didn't tell them before, why I didn't come to them as soon as I saw my first hate comment, why I still stick to this despite them teaching me better. Why I felt the need to share my works to the world, because it's obviously because I want the praise.
The man that told me my works were useless and shit just two minutes before, was asking me this.
I wanted to tell him how I cried myself to sleep the day someone wrote how bad my spelling was. To tell him how his words and actions had hurt me today as much as it did years ago. How much of my efforts I put in to even get a simple 'good work' from them with varying degrees of success. How my best friend's first ever fanfic was gifted to me, on that account, because I was the only one who supported her in her dark times. How mom dragged me kicking and screaming to my first book week writing competition against my will, nearly annhiliating my desire to write before I found my community.
How recieving each kudos felt, how reading every suppoetive comment was like. How waking up one day to see a long-forgotten fic that I'd subscribe to had updated, how giddy I feel when finding just the right fic that had all elements I wanted.
It hurts.
It hurts so damn much.
My account was gone four hours ago, and I'm crying on and off for the tye majority of it.
It hurts because I loved it. I loved everything to do with my works--- the ideas, the writing, the motivational dips and dives, but most importantly, I loved sharing my work to the world.
Because I'm comforted by the fact that somewhere out there, my idea was still alive, and people are still reading it.
It hurts because my characters are part of me. Their characterization was so different from their originals, but it was my charcterization that lived to tell the tale.
It hurts because my love was there, my art was there, my people were there. Ones that don't blame me, ones that appreciate me, ones that understand me, all through a screen.
It hurts because I wrote those fics as what I wished would've happened to me, that I know could've happened to me had I have someone to guide me.
It hurts because I know that people loved my ideas and urged me to write more. Are WAITING for me to write more.
It hurts because I couldn't imagine a day were I wouldn't have taken 5 minutes out of my day and read a masterpiece, write one, or search for one.
It hurts because those wonderful stories made me laugh, made me cry, made me happy and sad and all sorts of other things.
It hurts because I enjoyed every single one of those moments.
It hurts because I spent the last four hours typing this and crying and still couldn't find the right ways to say that IT HURTS.
I hate it.
Hate this feeling. Hate my decision to stand by. Hate that my works are gone forever.
Some part of me hates it, loathes that I managed to forgive my parents for this, that I understood they meant well.
It hurts so damn much.
I want to scream. I want to kick a wall. I want to throw myself out of the motherfucking window.
I didn't do any of that.
I just cried.
It hurts so much because I know people in real life that loves my works, that appreciate my efforts, that know I wasn't just some kid that had no idea what's happening.
It hurts because those people weren't my parents.
My parents were the ones who laughed those ideas off. My parents were the ones who scrunched their noses and reminded me time and time again how much money I was costing them for the betterment of my life. My parents were the ones that love me, that I know I love, but took and torn away my love and forced me to shut it tight somewhere no one can see.
One question my dad asked me was why I didn't show him my works. Why I wanted to share it with total strangers.
This is why.
I showed it to him, once. I showed it to my mom, once. I showed it my sister, once.
Dad criticized my use of vocabulary, telling me I could do better and that to not waste my time on this.
Mom demanded to know why I wasn't working on something worthwhile, like my persuasive writing skills to aid my college application, but this.
My sister's was perhaps the kindest reaction I got.
She laughed.
She laughed so hard she had tears down her eyes, chortling uncontrollably at my six hour piece of work.
She laughed and then asked me to never write again, childishly repeating what my parents told me to in over a hundred different ways but directly.
I remebered it like it was yesterday.
She laughed, but she cared.
My sister was the only one who bothered to look at my fics, gave me any feedback and told our relatives about my work.
She was trying to make fun of me, of course, like the baby sister she is. But she cursed out my cousin who was joking about a charcter in my fic in all the curse words a tiny little kid like her knows.
My first reader was my sister, not my parents.
The first genuienely supportive comment was from a total stranger on the internet, not my parents.
The first adult to wholeheartedly read my fics, who loved what I did, was my 8th grade homeroom teacher, not my parents.
The first adult who gave me ideas as fellow fanfic author, who talked fanfic to me, was my elementary librarian, not my parents.
The ones who rupoed me away from all of that, who gave me so much grief in most terrifying fifteen minutes of my life, the ones who destroyed my golden pillar with the push of a button wasn't the dangers they warned me of, but my parents.
I think it hurts so much is because of two reasons.
One: everything I loved about myself, everything I could keep to myself, everything in my own colorful teenage world, everything that I made by myself, for myself, was non existant as of five hours ago.
Two: the people that caused it were my parents, ones I wished were everything I had against the world.
Dad told me once, that I need to be mindful of the tools I used, because if I'm not careful, they'll hurt me someday.
I find myself digusting comparing my parents as the tools in that saying, but it's true.
I still love them. I still love them aftet everything today.
But I hate them for doing that. I hate them for cutting away my lifeline.
So parents, guardians, caretakers, etc.--- please, please, PLEASE don't take away your child's lifeline. You don't know if that's their last, you won't know if you're not one of them.
For their sake.
#rant post#tw vent#parents#ao3 fanfic#please dont do this to your kids#it really#really hurts#i just want to put this out there for anyone that needs to hear this#just want to sleep en
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prompt from @alominific: a snapshot from FWB ‘verse, in which everybody absolutely, without a doubt, knows what color Jamie’s eyes are
“Dani?”
She raises her head, fingers sliding between the pages of her book to mark her place. “Yeah?”
“Got a weird question for you.” Jamie is leaning against the kitchen counter, frowning at her phone. Dani would best categorize her expression as gently perplexed--not the first time something on the internet has sparked such a look, though the inciting incident could be anything from an odd social media message to a truly bizarre animal photo.
“Shoot,” Dani says, when it becomes apparent Jamie is lost in whatever has plucked up her puzzlement. “Though if it’s about the mating rituals of ducks again, I really don’t think I’m the person--”
“What color are my eyes?”
Not what I expected. “Um. Do you...not know?”
Jamie gesticulates with the phone as though it’s just insulted her family name, shaking her head. “No, look--stop laughing, there’s a goddamn debate raging over on my most recent photo. Which, honestly, how bored do you have to be? Eye color doesn’t spark debate.”
“Evidently, it does.” Dani grins. "Your fan club never ceases finding new ways to stay busy, huh?”
Jamie squints at her. “Are you stalling?”
“No!” Why stall? This is an easy question. Barely a question at all, really. A nice-straightforward-- “Your eyes are definitely--I mean, they’re--”
“You have to look?” Jamie sounds scandalized, squeezing her eyes shut and clapping her free hand over her face for good measure. “Jesus, Dani. You’ve only been starin’ into ‘em for a year.”
“No, it’s not--” Dani flops back in her chair, closing her own eyes and casting back. The memories spill over, neat as Saturday morning: Jamie, grinning from across the table; Jamie, glancing up in the supermarket; Jamie, gazing down at her in bed.
Jamie, whose eyes are definitely, absolutely--
“Blue?” Dani asks hesitantly. Jamie makes an undignified noise.
“That was a question. You just answered a question with a question.”
“Brown,” Dani says, with as much certainty as she can muster. “They’re definitely--”
"Brown?” Jamie sounds vaguely outraged. “You think they’re brown?”
“Well,” Dani says, a bit peevishly, “what color do you think my--”
“Blue.” Jamie doesn’t even wait for her to finish. Her mouth is working, the way it does when she’s trying desperately to hang on to a grumpy mood even as it’s slipping away. “Blue as a fuckin’ summer sky. Blue as the songs say. Blue as--”
“All right! Point made.” Dani leans over the kitchen table, book forgotten, hands reaching hopefully toward Jamie’s hunched frame. “C’mere, let me look. We’ll settle this.”
“Oh, settle it, will we?” Jamie grumbles. “Sure, right, you’re doin’ me a favor.”
Now she’s just being childish. Dani raises an eyebrow.
“Would you say keeping the upper hand in this conversation is more important than sleeping in my bed tonight, or...?”
“Valid.” Tossing herself moodily into the next chair, Jamie shakes the hair from her face, leans in, opens her eyes comically wide. “Right. Settle it, then.”
Dani leans close.
Dani looks.
Dani keeps looking.
“Seriously?” Jamie blinks rapidly, scrubbing a hand across her face. “Practically half a goddamn hour, you still don’t have an answer?”
“They’re--” Dani makes a helpless gesture. “They’re--very pretty.”
“That is not,” Jamie says, clearly fighting a grin now, “what I asked.”
“So pretty,” Dani repeats. “Gorgeous, really. Best eyes I’ve ever--”
“Dani Clayton, do you legitimately not know what color my eyes are?”
“Well, they’re like a--I don’t know, a sunbeam.”
“A sunbeam,” Jamie repeats, like Dani has started speaking French mid-conversation. Dani winces.
“Sure. Beautiful. And, um. Unknowable.”
“This is ridiculous.” Jamie flips her phone in her hand, taps the screen several times. “We’re getting a professional opinion.”
“I’m not a professional opinion?”
“You just told me my eyes are sunbeams. All rights to a career as number one Jamie enthusiast have gone out the door for the foreseeable.” Jamie punches something on the screen and folds her arms on the table as the phone begins to ring.
“So, who are you,” Dani begins, cutting herself off when a voice on the other end of the phone says pleasantly, “Wingrave residence, Mrs. Grose speaking.”
“Hannah,” Jamie sighs. “Dire question for you. What color would you say my eyes are?”
There is, Dani is amused to note, an extremely long beat of silence, after which Hannah’s voice--hesitant, and not the least bit formal now--pipes back up.
“Um...blue?”
“This is ridiculous,” Jamie repeats, sounding as though she has no idea how she’s ended up surrounded by such lunacy. “Ask Flora. Flora will know.”
“You’re outsourcing to the children now?” Dani is mildly insulted.
A scuffling sound, as Hannah covers the phone and calls for the kids. Another, as tiny feet skitter over tile. Breathless, and no less excited for it, Flora’s voice filters through the speaker.
“Jamie!”
“Flora,” Jamie says, narrowing her eyes at Dani with a grim little smile. “Important question for you. What color are my eyes?”
“Well,” Flora’s tiny voice comes back without missing a beat. “They’re definitely not blue--” Jamie makes a vindicated little motion in Dani’s direction at this. “--because Miles has blue eyes. And they’re definitely not brown, because mine are brown.” A pause, as Jamie leans back in her chair and smirks. “I think they’re...green.”
“Green,” Jamie repeats. Dani takes her by the chin, twisting her jaw left and right in an effort to coax the poor kitchen lighting to reveal hidden secrets. “You think so?”
“They’re not,” Dani mouths. Green, she feels, is a very straightforward color. Jamie’s are anything but straightforward.
“Yes,” Flora says with all the certainty of a child who rarely believes herself to be wrong. “Definitely. Except for the days when they’re not.”
“Oh,” says Jamie in a rather distant tone. “Well, clears it right up then, doesn’t it?”
“You’re welcome!”
“Well.” Dani taps the table once. “That’s--who are you calling now?”
Jamie mutters something that sounds just a little too much like last hope for Dani to take seriously. She shakes her head.
“I’m really starting to think--”
“Owen,” Jamie says, hefting the phone to her ear. “Oi. Quick question--no, everything’s fine. Yeah. Yeah, I’ll tell her. Okay. Look, question: you’ve been looking at my face for a while, yeah?” A pause, as Owen ostensibly agrees. “Great. What color are my eyes?”
Dani watches, amused, as the determination slowly drains from Jamie’s face. It is replaced by something very much like defeat, her head slumping onto her arms; by the time she’s saying, “Right. Uh huh. You really think so?”, her face is almost completely barricaded in the sleeve of her flannel.
“He said blue, didn’t he?” Dani asks, when Jamie hangs up and slides her phone so forcefully across the table, it nearly spills onto the floor. “You know, there are many shades of--”
“Gray,” Jamie says into the hollow of her arm. “He seemed very sure they’re gray.”
“Gray is,” Dani says helpfully, “sort of like blue.”
Jamie makes a noise a little like a growl. Dani swallows the impulse to laugh.
“Jamie.”
“Mm.”
“You don’t actually know the answer, do you?”
Jamie raises her head, hilariously morose. “I honestly write a different fuckin’ answer on every form.”
The giggles are going to make it out of her, Dani recognizes; it’s just a matter of fending them off long enough to get Jamie grinning, too. “What, um. What does the fan club have to say about it?”
Without looking, Jamie fumbles for her phone. Takes a deep breath. Flicks it open.
“There is,” she says dryly, “a dead tie between gray, green, and fuck all knows, she’s hot.”
“That settles it, then.” Dani slips out of her chair, resting her chin gently on Jamie’s shoulder. “Next time you have to fill out a form, just write in fuck all, she’s hot, and you’re golden.”
Jamie snorts, dropping the phone and leaning back into the embrace. “Really think they’re pretty, at least?”
“None prettier.”
"Maybe I’ll just start putting that.” Jamie shakes her head. “Prettier than yours. Think that’d go over all right?”
“Think they’d stop arguing the minute they saw your face,” Dani says, and finds herself meaning it with no shame at all. Jamie turns, nuzzling into her hair.
“You’re just saying that to distract from how you defaulted to brown.”
“Okay, literally everyone said a different color, you’re still going to tease me for brown?”
“Dani.” To punctuate the imminent point, Jamie widens her eyes again--as far as she can manage, at least, while dissolving into laughter. “Of all the fuckin’ colors. You picked the one I have never once seen in the mirror.”
“Well, someone wouldn’t let me look.”
Still laughing, Jamie shifts in her seat, catches her around the waist, pulls her down into her lap. “You,” she says fondly, “are the smartest person I know. And, if I’m being honest, the love of my life.”
“And?” Her hands are warm, slipping under Dani’s shirt, her mouth soft on Dani’s neck. It’s almost pleasant enough to forget Jamie is about to say--
“And your observation skills are, and I mean this with boundless affection: non-existent. I mean. Brown?”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Dani takes her face between gentle hands, gazing at her with all the seriousness she can muster. “Let me get this right. Your eyes are...a perfect green-gray-gold-hazel. In this light. Tomorrow, I’ll provide an update out in the sun.”
Jamie’s entire body is shuddering with laughter, her head falling forward until Dani releases and allows her to lean into her collar. “Best stick to pretty, I think.”
“I thought you’d say that. But if you want me to drop a comment tomorrow, resolving the issue once and for--” She cuts herself off with a shriek as Jamie stands abruptly, hoisting her with a sharp motion onto the table. “You’re about to pretend we never had this conversation, aren’t you?”
“Yep,” Jamie says pleasantly, brushing a kiss against her lips. Her hands are sliding up Dani’s thighs, squeezing just hard enough to distract from the issue. “Unless you’d say keeping the upper hand is more important...”
Dani sees no reason to dignify this with a response.
#fanfiction#ficlet#the haunting of bly manor#dani x jamie#damie#AU one-shot#this is possibly the most self-indulgent prompt I've ever filled barring Walking With the Lady#but it was short and sweet and made me laugh so here we are#turns out I really like playing in this 'verse with small plot-light additions. hope everyone's chill with that#it'll be on AO3 too in a sec if that's your jam
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Memento Mori Cries Our Shattered Souls.
| {Jasonette July 2021, Week 1, Day 3: Grave} |
| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] | | [Spotify Playlist Link] |
| Soulmates, are a tricky thing. It's said they're the person who best fits you. Everyone goes through life with half of their Soulmate's soul beside them in the form of an animal that represents the soulmate. |
| Marinette always thoughts she'd get to meet her Soulmate and the other half of her soul one day, and now she never will. Jason never wanted to meet his soulmate or be reunited with the other half of his soul. And now, like Romeo and Juliet, they've truly become star-crossed Soulmates. |
| Word Count: 1,371. |
| Warnings/Tags: Soulmate Au, Major Character Death/Implied Death/Temporary Death/Not Really Dead, Death Related Injuries/Injury Recovery, Miscommunication, Loss of Soulmate, Angst, Emotional Hurt, Explicit Language/Swearing, Starcrossed Soulmates, Wakes & Mentions of Funerary Customs/Traditions. |
———
| A/N: Okay so there's only one song on this one's playlist but c'mon, look my written words in the eyes and tell me that isn't the perfect Jasonette song. Yeah, exactly. Also Choo Choo dear readers, I'm back on the angst train. Grab your tissues and some liquid to hydrate yourself because if you aren't crying by the end of this, then I've failed my job <3 |
| If you want to be tagged in future oneshots/fics or a specific Au, then feel free to send me a dm and or ask! |
| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |
———
It isn't a grave. An important difference, Marinette thinks to herself hollowly. There's a dull pang in her chest, and the constant ache of all her many, many still healing injuries. She shouldn't be up and about yet, it's only been a day since she was discharged from hospital. Her parents and the doctors would have kittens. But Marinette needs to do this. And she's already crawled her way up to her balcony chair (though with a little miraculous help of course). Because it isn't a grave but it might as well be one.
It's a simple little thing really, and yet… Yet it's a lot of things.
A shrine, well an altar. On the half wall besides her balcony chair. It's a small stone slab with a lit incense holder in the middle, and a few lit candlesticks in each of the front two corners of the slab. Behind the incense holder, in the back two corners are two bouquets of marigolds, white lilies, and yellow and white chrysanthemums. And in front of the incense holder, is a single photo of her soulmate familiar and all that she has left of her soulmate; Buddy the german shepherd.
Five days ago, her soul bond shattered. Her soulmate familiar nearly shattered too. It was a miracle Buddy only fell into a pseudo-coma instead. Unlike her though, he's yet to wake up. And considering the situation, he may never. One of the doctors—a soulmate related injuries specialist—had said it's rare but not unheard of for that to happen when the human counterpart to their soul familiar dies. And the final damning nail in the coffin was Marinette's own soul familiar counterpart appearing at some point after she had fallen into the three day coma. After all, it's common knowledge that once a soulmate died, you become reunited with the other half of your soul—your soul familiar counterpart.
Marinette doesn't know what happened to her soulmate's body (if there even is one left, considering the injuries found on her and her soul familiar counterpart). Nor does she have any memorabilia or anything that once belonged to her soulmate. And she certainly doesn't know where he was from and if he would've had any preferred cultural funeral rites. So the best she can give him right now, are the typical funeral flowers her parents both recommended, alongside candles and incense. Somewhat plain and generic almost but it's something, and it's better than nothing.
She chokes back a sob and rubs at her red eyes. “It's not fair… I thought Ladybug's were supposed to be lucky.”
There's a faint pitter-patter and a few droplets splatter against the altar. She blinks and glances upwards, briefly wondering if it is starting to rain. But the cloudless sky is all an answer she needs, along with the realisation of dampness on her cheeks and hands. She blinks again, and a few more tears fall.
Tikki makes a small noise of sadness, and gives Marinette one of those tiny little hugs she always gives.
Still, the grief hurts. Marinette will never get to know who her soulmate was. His name, what he looked like, how he smiled, his accent, what he liked, his favourite things, any stupid habits or mannerisms.
And she will never get to know if her soulmate even has a grave already. She could always ask Tikki, she's right there. But the kwami is stressed enough as it is that Marinette fell comatose for three days and nearly died from the injuries inflicted on her soul familiar counterpart. And five days without a proper Ladybug (and not just Master Fu stepping in out of necessity) protecting Paris has started to visibly take its toll on Tikki.
So, Marinette's little altar isn't a grave but it's where she's burying her grief and wishing the ladybug miraculous could do something to fix this.
———
It's not a fucking grave. If Jason had a choice, he'll never let his soulmate be buried in one of those fuckers ever, y'know just in case she ever ends up like him and is forced to crawl out her own grave. But he hasn't got a fucking choice because who knows who or where his soulmate is and what happened to her after he became a dead robin.
Well other than the fact, she's un-fucking-doubtedly dead and it's all his fucking fault, obviously. It's been six months since he crawled out his grave, and Talia had said the Lazarus Pit could heal broken soul bonds and soulmate familiars that died with the soulmate. Clearly fucking wrong seeing as his bond is still shattered as fuck and there's been no sign of Jules—the naturally shifting little soulmate familiar he used to adore. The kinda weird and scrappy looking calico tabby kitten that according to the internet was a cornish rex, that would sometimes shift into an even tinier, very round and fluffy hamster.
And Jason's spent enough time on the streets as a kid to know what happens to the human counterpart when their soul familiar counterpart snuffs it. If he's lucky, she'll be in a coma and will never wake up. And if he's unlucky, then she'll be six feet under like he was. Either way, she's paying for his fuck ups and deserves way better.
A small part of him wonders if that makes them star-crossed lovers. Like a reverse Romeo and Juliet—fucking ironic considering R&J were the inspiration behind Jules' name. He died, and came back only to find irrefutable evidence that his soulmate's dead—or might as well be—because of him dying first, and she'll never know he survived dying.
“It's not fair!” Jason snarls at his fate, vision staining green for a split second. He grits his teeth and glares down at the little altar he's set up in the corner of his room in whatever league of assassins' compound this is. It's got a single lit candle in each corner of the altar—a substitute for how there's supposed to be a burning candle at each corner of a coffin. Still doesn't make it a fucking grave though.
There's also a few bunches of flowers scattered across the middle of the altar—mostly marigolds, with a few white lilies, a couple black roses, a single pheasant's-eye, and a small handful of asphodels. It hadn't been easy to get them, especially since he couldn't exactly leave the compound yet. But Jules and his soulmate deserved this at least.
Marigolds for grief, white lilies more for the funeral staple than the meaning, black roses for death and mourning, pheasant's-eye for painful recollections, and asphodels for my regrets follow you to the grave.
Fucking ironic, seeing as it's on altar and not a grave.
The worst fucking part of being here, was losing Jules. The one fucking constant in his shitty life. Batman replacing him fucking stung alright, and he's never particularly cared for soulmates, yeah. He's seen and heard more than plenty horror stories growing up, and considering how small and cute Jules is, no way would've his soulmate survived Gotham. It's not like he cared too much about meeting her or whatever, but she was fucking innocent and now she's fucking dead. So yeah, she gets asphodels on her altar because he regrets being the reason she and Jules got shattered.
And the pheasant's-eye, well Talia and all the fucking assassins in this hell hole aren't giving him the chance to hold a wake for either of them. And it's not like he knows shit about her or has anything of hers to sit on the altar. He hasn't even got anything left of Jules 'cept his fucking memories. So all he can really do is recount his own memories of her to himself. Maybe he should write 'em down in a book or something…
All in all, it ain't a fucking grave. But it might as well be one because it's where he's burying his memories and feelings. After all, an assassin without a soulmate familiar, or a soulmate, is a lot harder to kill. 'Least he's got that going for him now. But Jules and his soulmate still didn't fucking deserve dying only for him to survive alone.
———
| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fic! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |
| Quick reasons behind the Soul Familiar names and species, whilst I know Jason canonically is bad at naming, he's also a literature nerd so hence why he called his soulmate's familiar Juliet, also because it shifts form he can't call it Cat or Hamster. The hamster is because well this is half of Marinette's soul, let's be real, and the cat is because Calicos are seen as lucky and also I thought a Cornish Rex because they're highly intelligent, active, and affectionate and I think that fits Marionette pretty well. As for why Marinette has Buddy, it's purely because Jason reminds me of a German Shepherd and I feel Marinette would've wanted to become friends with her Soulmate as soon as she understood it as a kid, so hence the name buddy. It's not fully accurate to her canon naming skills, but that doesn't matter. |
| If you've been around since the early days of my Maribat/MLB Tumblr side acc, then this premise might sound familiar. Yeah, you've guessed it! It's the Jasonette version of my MTSPY au (rip, I'll get to writing it one day, maybe), aka/originally called LYLaLYL or Lose Your Love and Lose Your Life. I decided since I love the au but I want to re-use a lot of it but with some minor to significant changes. Anyway, if those au names are familiar/you've been around for my last year's content, then here have a virtual hug from me! 🫂 If you can't see this emoji, it's the weird two blue humanoid blobs hugging emoji. Yeah. |
| On a sidenote if there's an obvious difference in writer's voice for the end/beginning notes, tags, and summary, that's because I'm writing this very sleep deprived at 4am and may have gone slightly feral. Yeah. Don't do what I'm doing, get some sleep folks. Half the tags were written at the much more reasonable hour of ten to midnight instead though. |
| Also feel free to send me any comments with any questions you have regarding this fic, I'll be more than happy to answer! |
| @jasonette-july-event |
#Maribat#MLB x DC#DC x MLB#Jasonette#Jasonette July#Jasonette July 2021#JasMari#MariJay#Marinette x Jason#Jason x Marinette#Jasonette July Week 1#Jasonette July Day 3#Jasonette July Grave#Memento Mori Cries Our Shattered Souls#MMCOSS#Sham's Posts#Sham's Writing#Sham's Fics
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Match up, No. 10
Anon said:
Hello! I would like the match up please I would like to have a Male character and here are stuff about me!
The thing I do mostly is like to care for others and help others, I mostly get tricked on very easily do to my kindness which will cause me to sometimes get very fiesty which not very but maybe like “ please just stop talking your being to loud.” In a annoyed tone, which is very rarely, I tend to like very many hobbies and I don’t judge people base on first glance I see what on the inside and not what on the outside, a weakness I have is my disability but I never allow it to stop me from my true goal in life! And I practically tend to like doing some boyish stuff like archery! I get a lot of compliments on my archery skill because a lot of people say I have the patients and the accuracy very good! My dislikes are I hate real cocky people who think there all good and don’t take stuff for granted I also hate people who look down on weak person as not a human but a animal. I hate peoples who take kindness for granted and use it for a selfish gain.
I stand at about 5’0 exact! I have long brown hair that gets a lot of attention because some people always say to me “ I die to have your hair:” I’m just a tiny bit chubby and have big blue ocean eye that gets a lot of compliments and a lot of people wanting it to. I very much get the attention for how smart I am and how kind I am! I also get some hate from boys when I prove them wrong that girls aren’t weak and I won’t back down from a fight if it means protecting myself, people or just anyone. I like to have some affection it doesn’t have to be a lot maybe just even a hand on the shoulder is fine! I also very do like to wear some baggy clothes and I do like wearing like summer dresses that are knee high. I also tend to get very excited from the smallest things. A lot of people think I’m a loner but when it comes to babies I’m all for them! My cousin even said “ she likes to be alone into babies comes in the picture and she all for them!” 💕I love children and my parents even told me “ your definitely going to be the house wife.” I don’t know if that a compliment or not but I’m taking it😂✌🏻 sorry if I shared so many!
a/n:
Hello there! How are you? I really enjoyed reading all those things about you. Believe it or not but the part in which you said that although you have a disability it is not holding you back to follow your dreams, was impressive. It truly made happy. I have two cousins that have a disability and get me sad every time I see them. But seeing them happy and keep doing whatever they want makes me always so damn happy. You seem to be such a sweet human. Someone bright and jolly. Please never ever change. You are such a strong and great human. Keep that attitude and make sure that even when you end up as a housewife don´t let anyone push you around or take you presence and work for granted. This world really needs more good humans like you. I am so happy you requested. When you mentioned housewife I instantly thought of Hinata (Narutos wife) and then thought about myself who is more of a mixture of Ino and Temari. That thought really made me laugh. LMAO!! Anyways I really hope you will like with what I came up with. If there is anything that bothers you or you don´t like, please tell me so I can change it. Other than that enjoy the little story I came up with. Happy reading!
Match up rules can be found HERE.
Warning(s): Maybe grammatical or spelling mistakes since English is my third language and I´m still improving in every aspect (Please have mercy on that.)
!!! Please do not steal my idea or work. Credit me if this is shared or published in any other platform or any other way. Please respect me as the writer and my work. Picture is not mine. Credits to: @/SK,Martins (Can be seen in the pic) (found on the internet) !!!
· Well my dear anon. Like I mentioned before I think that you are a sweet and lovely human being. On top of that also simply adorable, fun and pure! Therefore I´d like to match you up with the future pirate king Monkey D. Luffy
· I think that you two would get along so well. So, SO WELL! Now hear me out!
· The way you two got to know each other might sound a bit of cliché but that’s simply how you meet. There was no princess in danger or a knight in a shinny armor but a clueless guy who wondered why a woman in a dress would walk around with arrows and a bow when they weren´t cupid. A simple human?! HA! Definitely not!
· Anyways that’s how everything started….
· The strawhats were docked on the island you were living in. At first they were anxious and didn´t want to leave their ship alone but when a worker at the harbor told them that the civilians on the island had cero problems with pirates as long as they didn´t do anything stupid or harm them. The whole crew got happy and started roaming around the island.
· Luffy being Luffy, screamed for food the moment his feet were on the island. And Zoro…. That guy yelled after him saying that if he gets to have food he wanted Sake. So, Luffy, Zoro and Ussop searched for a restaurant. Why Ussop you wonder? Well Nami send him with the boys because they otherwise would end up on the other side of the island. And Ussop compared to the captain and the first mate knew he had an actual brain and also knew how to use it.
· While the pirates were walking around the island you were helping out as a waitress in your uncles restaurant
· Everything went smooth. You served the people and had little chats with some of them. Some gave you too much tip and some other had you sitting with them and eat with them
· The people of the island knew you well. They knew you and loved you. Your uncle once even said that the only reason why his business was doing so well was because of you. The people never came for the food but rather for you. But you always denied it and told him that it was him and his food that was liked so much.
· Bu today there was something a bit different. A group of men you hated from the bottom of your heart came again. They were simply rude and egoistic. They were people from the wealthier part of the city, that was called royal neighbor. The reason why that neighborhood was called royal had nothing to do with the people that lived there. The only reason it was called royal was because it had a lot of wellness centers, hotels, casinos and parks. While this neighborhood, you were living in was given the name of idyll because of the beautiful nature. Landscapes that could have been painted and not to forget the dreamy beaches. But these group of young men simply didn´t understand that and thought of it differently. In a way that even the mayor couldn´t do anything else than just shook his head in embarrassment. But what could that poor man do. They weren´t doing anything against the law. They simply were annoying, stupid and egoistic.
· The group of young man, not older than 25, would always come once a week and have lunch in your uncles restaurant
· They entered the restaurant followed by three men you never saw on the island. At first you thought of them as sailors until you saw the green haired man carry three swords.
· You were in a dilemma. You didn´t knew if you should take care of the men that could have been pirates or the annoying group of disgusting men that always came. You gave your coworker a look and made sure he understood what you wanted. You were about to walk up to him and tell him to take care of the annoying group of men when you heard a plate breaking. You stopped in your tracks and instantly turned around.
· “This is our table. We always sit here. Now move you pathetic poor human.”, said Dean, the head of the group. You were mad. You were extremely mad and it took you so much energy and patience to not walk up to him and cut of his throat. But you calmed down and thought rationally. You took a deep breath and took your little notebook you used for writing down the guests orders when you heard a glass shatter right after Dean grabbed the customer at his collar and made him stand up. And this was exactly the moment you slammed you notebook and pen on the floor and yelled from the top of your lungs.
· “Watch out what you’re doing, you spoiled brat!”
· You stomped towards him and took a knife from a table on your way to him. “If you do not put him down in a bit and apologize, I swear to god I will make you regret waking up today and leaving your fucking bed!”, Dean knew you were no one to joke around with but his pride as a man kept pushing him. He chuckled and looked at you up and down while his friends that followed him like dogs laughed at your words.
· “Don´t make me start counting you pathetic version of a human.”, with furious eyes you looked up at Dean who still held the customer at his collar. “Look at that tiny girl trying to threaten…”, one of his friends was giving a comment but couldn´t finish his sentence because of you throwing the knife in your hand at him and cutting a bit of his ear and hair. You threw the knife with such a precise and strong grip that it ended up hitting the wall that was three meters behind him. “Watch out what you say because I don´t hesitate to drop the sweet girl attitude.”
· Dean looked at you with pure anger and let go of the man he was holding. He looked at his shocked friend and then back at you. “Today’s point goes to you. But the next time we come and this table is not free you will regret hurting him.”, said the angry man. “Listen here you little dumb spoiled creature. This table won´t be free for you. This is our table. Our property. You have no right to come and throw such a tantrum. And guess what, come again and I will be paying your parents a little visit and make them pay for everything you did. And I am sure that they won´t be pleased by your behavior since they are good friends with my parents and the mayor. Right? Now if I ever see you come here again I will make you pay. After today we will not accept your unacceptable behavior anymore. Now get the FCK OUT!!”
· After they left everything was silent for a few seconds but that change after your uncle started to clap and every person in the restaurant joined him. Your eye widened and your started to blush with a huge grin on your face. But that little moment of clapping didn´t last long. One of the pirates that entered the restaurant spoke up. “You did a good job but I AM HUNGRY!!!! Please FEED ME!”, you were confused. You didn´t know how to react and stood there like a statue.
· “Alright Sir. No worries. We will take your order in a few.”, said your uncle and approached you with a huge smile your notebook and pen. He pats your head with a proud smile. “You are such a brave and strong woman. I am so glad to have you in my family and I think it´s enough for today. Please take care of these men and then go rest: You deserve it.”, you nodded and smiled back to him. You pulled yourself together and made your way to the table of the pirates while your uncle left to take care of the broken glasses and the customer who had to deal with those stupid men.
· “Hello gentlemen. I apologize for making you wait I ….”, “No worries I actually enjoyed the show. You’ve got a good and precise eye. BUT NOW MY ORDER! Get me everything on the second site please.”, you absolutely didn´t knew how to react. You were looking at the talking man with a straw hat and then to his friends with big shook eyes. “I know what you thinking but he always eats that much and manages to stay alive. No worries. And getting to my order I´d like to have number 17 and 22 on the menu.”, said the one with a unusual long nose. “I take the same as him but with three bottles of your best sake.”
· You nodded with a disbelieving look on the face wondering if the first one is really going to eat all of the stuff. But you gave yourself a light slap and made your way to the kitchen only to be confronted with overwhelmed and surprised faces of the cooks. You shrugged with your shoulder and went to get the pirates drinks.
· While you went to get their drinks you saw that more people sat down next to the three pirates what made sense since the table they were sitting on was a huge one that usually only families took. Taking the drinks you served the three and greeted the new costumers. At the table sat a beautiful woman with black hair that complimented you for your adorable and genuine smile. With a blush you gave the others a menu too and took their orders
· Slowly with time passing all of their meals were served and you said your farewells and left the restaurant earlier then thought because your uncle said that he will take care of the rest. Thanking him you left and made your way to your archery lesson although it would have been way too early.
· Every time you came your sensei’s face would glow with pride. But the malicious person he is he would then drag you inside and introduce you to another challenge he came up with.
Time skip because ya author is lazy for the first time in a while now. *apologizes in trilingual
· It was late in the evening. You were on your way back home and thought why not take the route that would lead you to walk across the beach. You were having a good time alone. The sound of the waves that crashed on the cliffs and rocks were beautifully calming. The feeling of the sand under you feet were relaxing. With a smile upon your lips you were lost in your thoughts when the same guy with the straw hat you saw in the restaurant looked at you while blinking a few times before he asked you if you were Cupid the god of love like Sanji told him.
· With confusion taking over your mind you stopped in your tracks. Who on earth was he and that Sanji guy and why did he call me cupid? You wondered.
· And there you were looking at him with pure confusion while he looked at you with huge impressed and curious eyes for good 2 minutes until you shook your head and asked him who he and that Sanji were. He smiled at you and let himself fall down to sit cross- legged in front of you on the soft, warm sand. Now how do you think he introduced himself? Exactly my dear.
· “I am Monkey D. Luffy the future pirate King.”, “Huh?”, “And Sanji is one of my crew mates and the cook on my ship. Now tell me are you Cupid or not.”
· “Why would I be cupid?”, “Well you are wearing a pink white dress and you have a bow and arrows. So I thought that you might be on your way to shoot some people with them to make them fall in love. So, are you Cupid?”,
· “Alright first of all Cupid is a mythological creature made up by humans. He or she doesn´t exists. Secondly you really don´t look like a pirate nor do the others in your crew beside that one green haired man with the swords if he is also part of your crew. Thirdly you want to become the pirate king? Why?”
· And this my dear was how you two started a conversation that was to 50 % about him telling you stories of his adventures, 25 % basically about nonsense. And the other 25 % were… well that was about you telling him that you weren´t cupid but a actual human with the name f/n l/n. But he actually never got it. Until now.
· Eight years after your first encounter with the weird men called Monkey D. Luffy you still were busy telling him that you weren´t Cupid. But by now you not only had to tell him that but also your son who rather called you Cupid instead of mama.
· Congratulations you have two idiots in your life you love to the moon and back and would actually fight Garp for.
Bonus:
· “Does he really think that your Cupid or is that supposed to be something like a cute name?”, asked Dragon, the leader of the revolutionary army
· “I stopped thinking about that long ago, Sir. I really don´t know how to answer that. But just to make it clear if that confused you too. My name is y/n not Cupid.”, you told you father in Law with a sweet smile.
· “Wait. Cupid is not your name?! That brat introduced you to me as Monkey D. Cupid!”, Garp looked at you and Dragon with disbelieve.
· “If you ever wonder why you husband is so stupid just please now that, that stupidity comes from Garp. Not me. I swear.”
#one piece#one piece imagine#one piece x reader#one piece x y/n#one piece x you#one piece matchup#one piece luffy#monkey d. luffy#monster trio#captain trio#straw hat crew#straw hat luffy#luffy x you#luffy x reader#monkey d. luffy x reader#straw hat pirates#one piece strawhats#anime matchup#match up requests#match up event
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mini series coming soon!!
since you guys got me over 300 followers, i held up my end of my own deal and was finally able to think up the first of a 100% written series (social media included only when needed to build the story).
there will only be two for now but i want to get the sykkuno series a good ways in before bringing in new content like this! i’ve been a writer since middle school and have major writer’s block for a book i’m working on rn so i’m really excited about writing an actual story for lunarrwolf! these are the banners, very tiny synopses, and sneak peek excerpts for DAYWALKER!s and Siren Woods
s.h warning: siren woods will not be for the faint of heart as it will be put in the category of a psychological thriller. it will contain suspense, fear(s), anxiety and/or mentions of depression, isolation and swearing
d.w!s warning: this is an apocalyptic world w/o zombies. it will contain violence, anxiety, entrapment, fear(s) and swearing
disclaimer: i will do my absolutely best not to treat either of these as if they were actual novels. i plan on putting in comedic lines and scenes to lower any thriller/horror vibes from the stories, and not too go too far to avoid truly triggering myself or anyone else. warnings will only be issued in chapters that are going to actually include one or more of above the above. but if anyone who reads them in the future have issues do not feel like you need to keep reading.
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DAYWALKER!s
a variety youtuber mini series
summary
ten creators find themselves amidst a city with an oddly familiar vibe, a weird yet intimidating apocalyptic appearance, and hundreds of strangers that feel the need to do nothing but fight their way through the city. even if that means to the death.
excerpt
“You’re all going to die, you know.. so you might as well give up now and let it take over.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
You blinked at the growl woven in with your friend’s deep voice, knowing for sure that if you were in an animation a sweat drop would be making its way down the side of your head. He hated confrontation more than anyone here but when it came to his friends, and being trapped in a place like this? Who knew what damage he would do to keep them safe.
The man ahead of the group did nothing but stand there with a mocking grin on his face. It was unnerving, and dare say almost bloodthirsty. There was no amount of sanity or free will from where you all stood just a couple of yards away, and just that thought alone chilled you to the core.
“Corpse.. maybe you shouldn’t.” You stated, stepping closer to him to lower the risk of the strange man hearing the second part. “I don’t like the looks of that guy even from over here. We’ve already had to deal with a ton of crazy shit since finding each other. We can’t risk losing our only real muscle of the group.”
Ignoring the offended voices of Sean and Ludwig, the man with the torn mask looked at you only when you put a hand on his shoulder. It took sharing glances and seeing head shakes from most of the others to have him loosen the fist his hand was already in. Standing up straight, you watched as he rolled his shoulders, jaw still clenched from the tension. Rae was taking advantage of the off putting interaction and explored the small area, so capturing everyone’s attention when Corpse relaxed a bit wasn’t hard. “It’s gonna be a tight fit but I think we can make it work.”
“Whoa.”
“Where did you learn how to hotwire a car?” Ethan questioned, being the first to make his way toward the beaten vehicle.
“Video games?” The brunette answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She hit the side of the driver door twice, motioning to the group. “Now get your asses in here before that guy decides to pull a Resident Evil zombie sprint on us.”
“Yes ma’am.” Sykkuno saluted, earning chuckles that were a rare sight since ending up here. The two of you didn’t waste time in calling the front seats beside Rae and Ethan, forcing everyone else to get in the back of the truck and make it work. No one could complain, though, seeing the circumstances you were all in.
It took a few seconds of revving the seemingly old engine before the machine began making its way. You could actually hear the ones in the back shift around to get in more comfortable positions for however long a ride it would be. The girl behind the wheel didn’t pay any mind to the stranger that watched her drive you all away, but you did. And even when he continued to shrink in distance and eventually disappeared, you knew his words would stay with you.
“You’re wasting your time! No one gets out of Mirror City!!”
Siren Woods
a variety youtuber mini series
summary
seven internet personalities find themselves in the middle of an old town myth as they take a break from their careers and head up towards a rural mountain area. among every spooky or jumpy experience with a horror game here and there, never did any of them think they’d end up in this situation.
excerpt
The fire crackled with a sense of release, almost as if this large flame represented the time everyone needed away from their jobs. After how crazy the media has become the past few weeks, you and your friends agreed that a trip towards a much lesser known area would do you all well. It was a teenagers on summer break scene where everyone was gathered around a campfire in the backyard of a lake house, telling stories to either amuse or scare each other. Seán and Ethan were the first to do so, tag teaming in a very dramatic reenactment of the first time they met in person, which of course had to be followed by your own scene with Y/F/N.
Time flew by and before you knew it, the sun was completely set and the darkest shade of navy possible was barely lit with a crescent moon and a few stars. The only real source of light was the fire, illuminating the six faces in an orange glow. Any laughter died down minutes ago, leaving a silence that was comfortable for everyone. “You guys want to hear a funny story?”
Squinting at the man sitting in the log across from you, you leaned forward, hands folded in your lap. “Funny haha or funny we might want to kill you after we hear it?”
“Uh..” Corpse met your gaze immediately, his mask somehow looking more eerie with the natural lighting. “Funny kind of hoping you won’t kill me, if I’m being honest.” He confirmed, leaning forward himself to warm up his hands while the rest of you debated on whether to let him tell it.
After a few minutes, and three overtaking two, he was allowed to do so. It was an old myth of the town you all resided in for the week; a Slenderman type of entity of the forest that the locals from dozens of years before chose to call Siren Head. The name stuck once old photos were found and set up in the small museum in the Common. He stood at forty feet tall, with two megaphones for heads and tangled wires for a torso. He had the ability to perfectly mimic broadcasts, conversations, sirens and screams, and had been said to only emit white noise if ever asleep. Speed nearly matched that of a cheetah and his strength was unbelievably high due to his size. Every sighting of said species had only been released by victims, and it was an urban tale that stood alive to this very day.
Rae was on the grass now, legs crossed one over the other as she tried to look at everyone at once. “Why the hell did we all come to a place called Siren Woods, then?!”
“Well.. the town looked really nice online, and it’s living up to that. And I thought siren meant more mermaid than a freaky Creepypasta-type thing.” Sykkuno could do nothing but respond with nerves showing through his face and every subtle movement of his body as he explained why he ended up agreeing with the destination.
“Yeah, I did too.” Y/F/N piped in, shrugging her innocence as you all began telling your sides. “Who doesn’t think of a mermaid when you hear the word siren?! That’s basically what they are.”
“I, for one, think we should find another place to stay.” Ethan spoke up.
Seán gaped at his longest friend in the group, “You don’t actually believe in that.”
“I’m not taking any chances, dude. Those people believe in that thing enough to build a whole section of the museum for it.”
You watched your friends go back and forth, some freaked out by the story but not believing it was real while the rest wanted to find a new vacation spot. “What do you think, Y/N?”
You turned to Corpse, blinking as the simple question processed in your mind. “I’m with Ethan on this.. even if that thing isn’t an actual being the belief here is hardcore.” Three faces lit up in relief while the roommate, Irishman, and faceless internet persona felt differently. “Let me finish..” you sighed, “Let’s stay another night but keep an extra cautious eye on Spencer and Luna. Animals have a sort of sixth sense, so if anything weird happens they’ll warn us. Deal?”
Y/F/N shared a glance with you, letting out a sigh of her own. “Suddenly I’m feeling a lot better that we brought our dogs instead of getting sitters.” She bent down to pet the canines laying between the logs, hoping if they did bark it would just be from a resident knocking on the door.
#youtubers#youtuber#youtube#x reader#reader insert#corpse imagines#corpse fic#corpse x reader#corpse x yn#sykkuno fic#sykkuno fanfic#sykkuno x reader#sykkuno x yn#corpse fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#jacksepticeye#valkyrae#crankgameplays#sykkuno#corpse#corpse husband
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Haikyuu boys and some oddly specific crime they’d commit
a/n: I come back and the first thing I write is a shitpost!! enjoy </3 tw for drugs, murder, alcohol and general crime committing xoxo
Karasuno
Daichi- he’s a cop sorry that’s all there is to it man
Suga- Suga has multiple charges of 1st-degree murder against him but they can’t seem to find his identity so he continues committing murder and will continue until he gets caught or ends up murdering enough people to be put in a position of power
Asahi- everyone is probably like “Oh Asahi is innocent” NO. He has learned that his slightly scary face will let him get away with a lot, he is buying alcohol illegally because he looks old enough to, and he’s buying so much other shit and just getting away with it
Nishinoya- This man gives fucking pimp vibes I can just see him in the big leopard print fur coat with a pretty girl in his lap and he calls himself big poppa but no one else will
Tanaka- Drug dealer vibes, probably runs an entire fucking drug ring with his sister and not just a Lil weed these mfkas have the hard shit too like you could probably buy meth from them, he’s not using it but it’s good business
Ennoshita, Kinoshita, and Narita- They literally rob a bank they have an entire scheme and get away with multiple bank robberies and this goes on for MONTHS
Kageyama- We know he’s volleyball smart but otherwise he’s so mfing stupid and I love him for it but he is a chronic shoplifter. Just picks something up and takes it, has walked out of a store without paying for an entire bed set once and got away with it somehow so idk props to him
Hinata- He is the little guy in any heist situation, he fits anywhere so he can sneak in and out the best, he gave himself the stupid ass code name tiny giant but everyone goes with it because somehow he is the best
Tsukishima- armed robbery, but he doesn’t have a gun just a knife like he’s tall and as an attitude, a knife will get him whatever he needs he doesn’t need the gun
Yamaguchi- He runs a catfishing scheme where he pretends to be a naive girl, scams old men out of their money, and then ghosts them and I think it’s what he deserves let him carry on especially because no one would believe it’s him. Also not really like a crime crime but still a crime in a way
Kiyoko- She kills men and I know it, Queen Kiyoko ending the patriarchy one shitty man at a time like she only kills men who deserve it bc some have rights.
Yachi- She’s too anxious to commit an in-person crime so she does a lot of cybercrime, hacking government databases and releasing info to the people, truly the anonymous we deserve
Saeko- She’s running that drug ring with Tanaka, and she loves it because there’s a thrill to it even though yknow she’s dealing literal meth but like its fine plus she loves rocking people’s shit when they get too handsy, which bring me to my next point underground MMA Saeko, like the illegal one with no rules yeah <3
Ukai- this man probably sells all kinda shit to minors that he shouldn’t he is so unbothered a 7-year-old could probably walk in ask for a pack of camels and get them and leave before he noticed what was going on.
Takeda- Did y’all see how scared Hinata was when Takeda gave him that lecture? This dude could kidnap someone and scare them into giving all the information he needed, a legend truly
Aoba Johsai
Oikawa- took steroids one time. And of course in sports, that’s not allowed. But he only did it once and regretted it for months afterward. Never told anyone and was just relieved he didn’t have to piss in a cup and have someone find out.
Matsukawa- Without hesitation, I know this man takes dead people’s bones and sells them on the internet. Has dubbed himself the bone man and he feels so much power when someone buys a femur or sumn. It’s kinda funny honestly he has a hoard of bones to sell, his fave is the pelvis.
Hanamaki- He’s in between jobs because he stole money from his last job, like he said he was sorry he just needed a little extra for gas but was sad to find out that’s a literal crime and he was laundering money.
Iwaizumi- he’s a street racer, like the fast and furious style and it’s so sexy of him like late-night races ugh to be in an expensive fast car with him where he has one hand on my thigh okay that’s enough of that.
Kunimi- Look me in the eye and tell me he does not do drugs. He does and if you don’t believe me you are wrong and I will fight you on this one.
Kyotani- If there is a crime he will commit it for fun. Like he will do it with no hesitation. He has a record longer than twilight and I’m not sure how he is not in prison actually nvm he escaped and is a wanted criminal lol
Shiritorizawa
Ushijima- Assault, he just reeks of getting into bar fights when he’s absolutely wasted. Like he most likely didn’t start it but he will be finishing it
Tendou- grave robbing, he just goes into the cemetery picked the oldest plots, and gets to digging. Has made thousands on dead people jewelry and probably won’t get caught, like besides the groundskeeper there’s no security he will never stop.
Semi- he breaks copyright laws on the daily. He’s sampling music in his all the time but he’s doing it so sneakily it’s fine its what deserves stream his band on Spotify right now,
Shirabu- His bangs are criminal enough. No, but he has stolen drugs from the hospital before he just wanted to try the Xanax, and yeah he could just write himself a prescription for it nut like it’s so easy to just go get some and no report it so that’s what he did.
Goshiki- y’all want me to say arson don’t you?? Fine. He commits arson multiple times and kills 7 people with fire before getting arrested and he doesn’t even feel bad so in prison he probably fucking runs a gang he is crazy.
Nekoma
Kuroo- he is a capitalist and class traitor and that’s crime enough I don’t care is he’s attractive or rich, He commits crimes daily by just existing but I still love him anyway.
Kai- Could not commit a crime he just wants to garden and live his life. Jk there’s at minimum one body in that garden let him kill a man he deserves it just let him have one dead body
Yaku- he keyed someone’s car once just because they pissed him off. Was it kuroo? Yes. But that’s fine because he also keyed Lev’s car but blamed lev for keying kuroo’s and Kuroo for keying Lev’s. He just wants to watch the world burn.
Kenma- cyberbullying but man he is mean. Like no bars held we will dig into every insecurity he can and that shit hurts and he doesn’t even feel bad about it he will just be as mean as he can if you’re not careful
Lev- his crime is being tall and dumb also doesn’t understand the economy and prints counterfeit money because why can’t we print more money? The government should get on that.
Inuoka- He released all the animals from a zoo, like snuck in one night and just let them all free, I’m surprised the tiger didn’t eat him but hey the animals are free, there’s still some missing uh oh he’s very proud of himself for it. After the rush, he starts sneaking into shelters and freeing all the dogs and cats
Yamamoto and Fukunaga- Have egged a house before, it was Kuroo’s he deserves all this bullying and you can’t stop me.
Date Tech
Aone- Criminal Conspiracy, sure he had an entire foolproof plan to get away with the perfect crime but someone found out, and now his plans are ruined, damn </3 and no one ever suspects the quiet guy either.
Futakuchi- Having a prostitute, he just wanted some company like mans is lonely so he paid a girl to just spend a Lil time with him it’s all good.
Fukurodani
Bokuto- I know we all haha funny laugh at tax evader bokuto and sure maybe he evades his taxes but he’s also committed vehicular manslaughter, he cannot drive and has killed someone with his car maybe even multiple someones but he always drives off in a panic because he doesn’t know what else to do.
Akaashi- Hasn’t actively committed a crime but has been an accomplice in every vehicular manslaughter Bokuto has committed why the fuck does he keep letting bokuto drive? He really needs to stop that.
Konoha- A master scammer he is so convincing everyone gives him money even if they’re a little sus because he’s just that good each scheme is so convincing.
Inarizaki
Kita- He grows weed, you can’t tell me those rice fields are just for rice he’s got all this space he is growing marijuana and selling it, let him do it I want him to be my plug.
Atsumu- "What is my perfect crime? I break into Tiffany's at midnight. Do I go for the vault? No, I go for the chandelier. It's priceless. As I'm taking it down, a woman catches me. She tells me to stop. It's her father's business. She's Tiffany. I say no. We make love all night. In the morning, the cops come and I escape in one of their uniforms. I tell her to meet me in Mexico, but I go to Canada. I don't trust her. Besides, I like the cold. Thirty years later, I get a postcard. I have a son and he's the chief of police. This is where the story gets interesting. I tell Tiffany to meet me in Paris by the Trocadero. She's been waiting for me all these years. She's never taken another lover. I don't care. I don't show up. I go to Berlin. That's where I stashed the chandelier."
Osamu- resisting arrest. He just said no and ran. Granted he shouldn’t have punched the cop in the first place to have to be arrested but like that’s not the point here.
Aran- accidental child abandonment, like he just forgot he was babysitting and left the kid alone for like a day. He felt terrible but he still forgot the kid and now is fearful of parenthood
Suna- owns an illegal weapon, like he just never registered it and keeps it around and would use it if needed Suna please just point the weapon at me maybe
Others
Terushima- Graffiti, he loves painting on the walls of buildings and tagging them, has so much spraypaint and his day isn’t complete if he doesn’t tag at least one building or train car.
Daishou- Public intoxication- he got a little too fucked up and stripped on the street he will forever have to live with everyone knowing he has an ass tattoo like damn bruh
Sakusa- Perjury he simply wanted to get out of court so he said some shit so he could leave granted he lied under oath but whatever, did they ever find out? No, so he’s fine and he’d do it again if it meant he could leave faster. Like sure he was a witness to a murder but bruh he pretends he does not see.
Hoshihumi- driving without a license he simply thought you didn’t need one because why do you need a piece of plastic to say you can drive a car like??? Just know how to drive it.
#em writes#Yall miss me lmao#hoshihumi#sakusa#Daishou#Terushima#Suna#aran#atsumu#osamu#Kita#Ushijima#Tendou#Goshiki#Shirabu#Semi#Oikawa#Iwaizumi#Matsukawa#Hanamaki#Kunimi#Kyotani#Mad Dog#Bokuto#Akaashi#Konoha#Kuroo#Kai#Yaku#Lev
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I heard you like prompts lol. How about tony accidentally discovering that peter (his sweet, innocent, nerdy son) is a camboy?
(Holy fuck! What a great prompt. I adore this <3 Here goes:)
It’s not as if typing “Spider man boxer shorts cumshot” into the search bar -didn’t- make Tony feel guilty. It was that a recovering party animal/stuck-up asshole simply ate shame for breakfast. Tony feels a thrill like no other as his screen populates with sixteen thumbnails of bare, rigid cocks peeking from between the colorful flaps of cartoon underwear.
Sometimes, he had no specific preference. Clicking the first one and cycling through whatever playlist was linked to it on the right. He wasn’t the only pervert in his fifties obsessed with the bite-sized superhero.
He was just the only one who knew the man beneath the mask. Who had seen him less than forty-five minutes, ago. Peter had hugged him and thanked him profusely for help on his graduate essay. He’d thanked Tony with grateful tears in his eyes and said the man was like a -father- to him.
Tony hisses at the memory and pulses beneath his slacks like some taboo fetishist. He wants to pretend hearing Peter’s lips whisper Daddy to him wouldn’t make him shoot long and hard in his slacks. He wants to...
...but one of the videos has a title that catches his eye.
“Spidxer-Fuckbait Thanks Iron Daddy for Homework Help”
Tony shakes his head slightly. The heat of even thinking about that scenario making his heart thrum almost painfully. His cock is so rigid that his pants are cutting into him. He unzips and struggles to wrestle himself free. Standing, he clicks the video.
The first sounds are shuffling. Tony looks down past his bulge to the screen. The camboy’s mask is meticulously detailed. He shows it off as he dances on his hands and knees before the camera. Even the nano-metals seem convincing. Tony likes when the camboys he finds are also cosplayers. Their convincing costumes and weapons adding to the tawdry fantasies he has about his former mentee.
It feels deliciously blasphemous to imagine Peter defiling millions of dollars worth of technology just to help the anonymous internet fingerfuck themselves into oblivion. It feels deliciously blasphemous to imagine Peter. Full Stop.
He pushes his pants down to his ankles and resumes his seat before the laptop. The performer hasn’t started talking, yet. He’s simply shaking his spider-print rump at his camera. Tony strokes himself with gratitude, imagining those muscled thighs around his own.
This one really could be a superhero. Every inch of him is tight and etched with power. Tony allows himself to sink into the idea that this is Peter. That he’s doing this just for Tony Stark. His daddy. He whispers to himself. “I thought you were gonna thank me, kid...”
He’s surprised to feel his cock flex in his fist. Sure, Peter’s about to get his Ph.D. That doesn’t mean Tony’s ever going to stop calling him that stupid nickname. Secretly, he thinks the boy likes it. Too many people expect too much out of him. At least he gets to hang loose around Tony.
Or at least, that’s what Tony tells himself.
Tony is unsurprised when the Peter-clone peels off his boxers to reveal a perfectly hairless buffet of ass and balls to the camera. He finds his hips lifting off his desk chair toward the screen. Imagining what Peter would say in offer to him.
He doesn’t need to imagine for long, because this is when the camboy finally opens up and expresses what he’s promised in the title. “Oh, daddy. I’m so glad my homework’s all done. I was so distracted, all night.”
“Oh,” Tony blinks at the realization that this guy sounds just as squeaky as his favorite superhero. The amazing impression
“I could feel you getting hard for me. I never told you, but I sense that. How focused you are on my lips. My body. My instincts can’t tell between your fixation and danger... I kind of like that about you.”
Tony bites his bottom lip. If only that were true. If only Peter spent every single one of their study sessions or even Avengers meetings knowing that Tony was at least 50% stuck wondering what his protege would look like on his lap.
“I wish I could just tell you that I want you, too. That I’ve always wanted you and I’d wait for you until the end of time, daddy. Iron-daddy. I can’t stop thinking about how you looked, tonight. So dapper in just sweatpants and a hoodie. You fucking end me, Tony Stark.”
Tony whimpers at the inflection on his name. The tremble in the camboy’s voice. Just like Peter. Nervous confidence dancing on every syllable. He didn’t often find camboys that called out for the older heroes like Iron Man. They stuck to the ones who were always masked or the enterally young like Captain America.
It was understood that whatever wisecrack swung the streets was at least a generation below the salt and pepper hair of Tony Stark. It was understood that only the most niche viewers would even want this.
Tony glanced to the view count.
7.
7?
His eyebrows raise at the time of the video’s publishing. Exactly ten minutes ago. Tony feels that familiar quaking in his chest. Overwhelming pleasure at the world lining up with his wishes. He could pretend this was his Peter. Fresh off a study session and aching to go home and unload the frustrations of the chaste night he didn’t want.
Tony relaxes his left arm. He’d been gripping his mouse fiercely to keep the tension building in his body from making the attention he’s paying to his cock from growing uncomfortable. He’s practically on his feet, again. Thankfully, this video isn’t long. He’s barely touched himself and he’s almost done.
Though, he’d been pent up for hours as Peter knelt his head over their shared tablet and read the essay out loud to Tony as the man idly scanned for errors he was entirely sure Peter wouldn’t make.
“Tony, why don’t you realize I just want you to pull me onto your lap and tell me you’re tired of hearing about Quantum fucking physics and... and...”
Tony stops moving as he watches... Peter Parker cum on the bedspread he’d given him when he started college all those years ago. It had been too large for the twin bed Peter was likely to have, but Tony had ordered thousands of dollars worth of gifts when Peter had refused to let him pay his tuition.
He’d hinted at the fact that Peter was welcome to sell whatever he needed along the way.
And Peter had joked that his goal was to finish college and make enough money to house all his cool new gifts. Not pawn them off.
Tony wipes his hands off and ignores the continued throbbing of his erection. With a single click, he’s on this camboy’s profile and suddenly privy to what might as well be Peter’s personal calendar of study sessions.
Every Thursday just after 10pm for months and months.
“Spidxer-fuckbait thanks Iron Daddy for ride to Urgent Care” on the night Peter accidentally learned he had an allergy to one of Tony’s exotic dishes.
“Spidxer-fuckbait makes Iron Daddy jealous talking about Thor” on the night of Peter’s 29th birthday where they didn’t study, but instead had a pool party. ...where Thor drunkenly flirted with Peter all night and Peter did not object.
“Spidxer-fuckbait cooks for sick Iron Daddy” on the night they ended up not studying because Tony had the flu and Peter didn’t want to catch it.
Tony shrugs and clicks the “Live Camshow” button next to the performer’s name and the tiny green dot that indicates he’s still online. He types in an offer and waits for a reply.
Instead of negotiating, the camshow starts immediately. The naked, though masked, man waves at his camera and chirps a polite “hello!” Tony offers to share his own video feed and Spidxer-fuckbait accepts after charging an additional fee.
Tony tilts the camera up toward his face. In case this is a misread, he doesn’t want to expose himself to someone who -doesn’t- want it. He takes a deep breath. Smiles.
He can tell when his face finally appears on the other person’s screen. Their shoulders slump. “I... I’m sorry, Mr. Stark.”
Tony laughs, slightly. “I didn’t pay for this so I could scold you. Come back over?”
The slumped shoulders lift. As does the hung head. “A...are you serious?”
“Uh, yeah,” Tony scoffs. “When I was scrapbooking your thank you cards from university, I didn’t realize I could have been getting thanked like this. Get. Your ass. Back over here. NOW.”
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AU-gust: Ya like Jazz?
Read on AO3
No warnings
prompt no 7: Beekeeper
Characters: Lila Pitts, Diego Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves
Relationship: Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves
-
So, dad’s dead and now they have his estate to deal with.
The stupid townhouse that the old man had cobbled together from two separate houses, making it into some kind of monstrosity of cavernous halls and oddly shaped rooms, and then filled it to the brim with artefacts, antiques, taxidermied animals, and seven children he didn’t love, stolen from all corners of the world, was bad enough. But this… thing in the middle of absolutely nowhere really puts the cherry on top of the turd sandwich… or whatever the expression is, Klaus is finding it hard to concentrate on his own thoughts while he’s looking at the creepiest wood cabin he has ever seen in real life.
He shouldn’t even be here. He’d only come along to the reading of the will as he was hoping to get some cash that his father would have left for him, purely for appearance’s sake, but then his slightly estranged siblings (they have met for family weddings and funerals, and occasionally run into each other more or less intentionally over the years) promised him a real share if he helped them deal with things.
He should have stuck to Allison, but she is freshly divorced and in a surprisingly bad mood about it, so Klaus decided on Diego instead. But that has landed him outside the cabin, none of them knew existed, after a slightly tense two hour drive with his grumpiest brother.
The drive was tense because the last time Klaus had stayed with Diego when he was between living arrangements, he may have liberated from his brother a - what turned out to be - quite expensive watch.
Diego really does like to hold a grudge. Klaus thinks that’s rather pedestrian of him.
But as nothing can be proven, Klaus decides to repay Diego for the watch by giving some assistance with the cabin and not even complaining about it. Well maybe a little.
“What was the old coot even doing with this?” he asks incredulously.
“Dunno… let’s go and find out,” Diego says and then goes up to the door and breaks the lock with his Swiss army knife, like a glorified boy scout.
What they find inside is more of what they found inside the house in the city. A place filled to the brim with stuff. And to Klaus’s utter annoyance, it is very hard to distinguish the valuables from the junk.
They start halfheartedly looking through things, not even bothering to tidy much, just deciding that they’ll probably have to take anything that’s worth keeping and then hire a company to do the rest.
Klaus opens a heavy looking wooden chest and then springs back with a yelp.
“What?” Diego calls from the other room.
“Bees!” Klaus shouts in a high pitched voice and then edges back a little more, glad he dropped the lid back down in his panic, but still able to see the huge writhing mass of a hive before his mind’s eye.
“What the shit? Nah man! I don’t fuck with bees!” Diego has made it no closer to Klaus than to the door between the rooms and he’s apparently decided that’s as far as he needs to go.
“What do we do?” Klaus’s usually stoic brother asks him with a deep frown and a lot more worry in his voice than Klaus has heard in a long while.
“I don’t know,” Klaus answers, making his way over to find shelter in the other room, not particularly interested in getting stung either.
Then he has a thought, “But if the internet is to be believed, there are bouji white women all over the place who love nothing more than to scrape some bees out of any old crack or crevice, I’m sure we can find one who’ll help us with our little issue.”
He pulls out his phone and starts searching. Not quite sure what to type into google, he just tries the dumbest version of what he’s looking for. That usually works.
“Aha!” he exclaims, and Diego comes to look over his shoulder. Klaus reads out loud, “It says ‘The Bee Handler - we handle any bee trouble you might have’ sounds like exactly the thing we’re looking for. And this woman might be a bit older than I expected, but she’s excessively blonde and very bouji looking, don’t you think?”
“Call her!” Diego grumbles.
The bee handler lady says she has no appointments free for a removal for the next four weeks, but when Klaus explains that they have come all the way out to the cabin and weren’t planning on coming back, but need to be able to look through the rest of the bee infested room, and when he then also explains that they are willing to compensate her handsomely for her troubles, the woman promises to send her daughter along, who is apparently involved in the family business.
-
Klaus and Diego decide to edge their way along the wall of the room full of danger, just to get out of the cabin and wait for the bee handler’s daughter out on the porch.
When a huge, fuck off truck pulls up the dirt road about an hour and a half later and a woman climbs out the driver’s side, she turns out to be nothing like what Klaus had expected.
Klaus had imagined a tall, elegant, blonde woman, wearing a pastel coloured chiffon blouse, maybe a wide brimmed hat. Instead he finds that they’ll apparently be rescued from their bees by a tiny, very angry looking goth.
She clambers up onto the flat back of her truck, not having acknowledged Klaus and Diego yet, pulls a huge case down, and then stomps her way over to them, once shiny red boots getting duller with each step she takes along the dusty path.
“The directions you left for me were absolute dogshit, which one of you numpties do I have to thank for that?” Her accent sounds a lot more like their father’s than the woman Klaus talked to on the phone.
“That would be me,” Klaus answers, having no trouble keeping his tone excessively pleasant. He’s quite certain she just called him an ition, but if he got offended every time someone called him an idiot, he’d end up being constantly angry like his brother. The brother who’s gone oddly quiet.
Klaus turns around to Diego, as the woman stomps up the wooden stairs, and finds a very peculiar look on his face.
“Right, I’m Lila, I’ll be handling your bees today… yada yada, my mother insists I give you the spiel… for the branding. So, where are the little creepers?” the woman, Lila, drawls with a slightly blank expression, but her kohl rimmed eyes glow a bit brighter when she starts talking about the bees.
“Just this way,” Klaus swings his arm towards the door dramatically to indicate the way. “After y…” he trails off when Lila breezes past him entirely ignoring him.
He’s just about to follow her in, when Diego pushes past him, also saying nothing and with a slightly dumb, almost dreamy expression on his face.
Oh fuck, Klaus thinks. He’s forgotten about his brother’s thing for intimidating, angry women. This should be interesting.
-
Klaus can admit that at times Diego can be remarkably smooth. At other times he is a huge dumbass. These versions of him occur seemingly at random and apparently today Diego is incapable of pulling off smooth.
The two brothers spend most of the time that Lila takes dealing with the hive, back in the other room, watching from the doorway as she… does whatever it is she has to do… and Diego has made multiple attempts at small talk, but Lila keeps shooting him down with bored one word answers. Klaus likes her on principle for making his brother look like a fool.
Once she’s more or less done, she closes the lid of the chest and instructs the two of them to carry it outside so that the remaining bees that she couldn’t secure in her crate can fly out, once outside, and hopefully follow her along to her destination.
Klaus really doesn’t want to do any heavy lifting, and even Diego next to him seems reluctant to get too close to the bee infested chest, but it’s not like they have much of an alternative so they seemingly silently agree to get it over with as quickly as possible.
Klaus takes the front end, assuming his brother, who has much more in the way of brawn to offer, will have an easier time of keeping his end up when they make their way down the front steps.
They manage quite well, with hardly any cursing from Diego, and Lila follows them outside.
And then, to his genuine surprise, when they get to the dusty path in front of the porch, Klaus catches Lila staring at Diego where he’s gently putting down his end of the chest - Klaus just let his drop unceremoniously - and she’s thoroughly checking his brother out.
Good lord, Klaus thinks, Diego is lucky that he’s hot.
But somehow, nothing else happens. It seems, Diego’s given up on his pathetic attempts at flirting, and while Diego scribbles down his credit card information, Lila just looks at him with a slight scowl, as if he’s taking too long for her liking.
She gets in her truck and Diego ambles back towards the cabin, “C’mon Klaus, I want to be done here before it gets dark!” he calls.
“Right with you in a sec!” Klaus sing-songs back and thinks he hears a grumbled ‘whatever’ as Diego disappears back into the cabin.
Klaus makes his way over to the open car window where Lila seems to be sorting through some paperwork.
“What now?” her question dripping with irritation.
“Do you ever make it into the city?” Klaus asks, as casually as he can manage, which is very.
“How’s that any of your business?” Lila shoots back, giving him a very sceptical frown.
“Humor me for a second,” Klaus gives her his brightest, most disarming smile.
And apparently it works, because she shrugs and says “on occasion…”
“Then you should let me give you my brother's number!”
“Why?” Actual bafflement has made it into Lila’s voice, she doesn’t even sound quite so angry anymore.
“So you can call him up when you’re in the city, silly! Go on a date, have wild, sweaty sex, or whatever you kids want to do!” and when her mouth literally drops open in shock, Klaus goes on, “Oh please, are you telling me you didn’t notice him mooning over you?”
“He was?” she asks in a voice that’s significantly more quiet and softer than any other she’s used on them all afternoon. And Klaus can’t be sure with the dark brown of her skin, but he’s getting the impression that she’s blushing.
“Oh my god! You two idiots are made for each other. Give me your phone!” Klaus rolls his eyes at her.
Lila pulls out her phone and hands it over.
#au_gust_2021#fanfic#tua#the umbrella academy#diego hargreeves#lila pitts#dielila#diego x lila#diego/lila#klaus hargreeves#lochrannn lxd au challenge
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advertising is bullshit. not just for the carbon emissions, not just because they don't work, not just because they gather information on individual users, not just because unbridled capitalism is fundamentally broken without consistent regulations and control, not just because businesses are putting ad revenue ahead of human life.
here's the thing
you ever heard of acorn?
no not the video streaming service
there's an app called acorn that enables short form investment capital. you put in pennies to businesses to financially support them and if/when those businesses are successful then the amount of money you invested gets to be a lil bit more. so it's basically the stock market. you cannot eat the rich if you don't know what they eat. anyway it's a way to make supplementary income that's as far as I know untouchable by the IRS. but that doesn't matter. the thing is that this thing exists.
I can guarantee that 9 out of 10 people reading this has no idea that this app existed. and it's probably because you don't ever see ads for it. they don't really advertise. it seems to be some sort of communal hub for mass mutual financial growth among corporations and investors since that's how stimulating economics works. you don't hear about it on tv, radio, internet, video games, magazines, whatever. so clearly they have a tiny if not nonexistent budget for ads.
gambling ads are fucking everywhere. you got casinos, you got fantasy football leagues, you got horse racing, you got private pools for F1 and nascar, you got lottery scratch off tickets, you got fortnite overwatch battlefieldfront etc lootboxes, you got so much shit shoveled out every orifice of society, media, social media, radio tv websites and magazines. everywhere. they have a huge budget for ads because they are traps designed to steal money from gullible idiots privileged enough to have extra cash. and they take maybe 10% of that and sell out adspace to attract more gullible idiots. it's a predatory business model and it WORKS and it works because people are stupid and they're still clicking on ads and buying lootboxes and scratching scratchoffs and betting on football.
gambling doesn't serve society. it's a for profit model that the privileged elite use to suck up extra cash from sad pathetic losers who chase that high from a squirt of serotonin from hitting three lemons or a solid gold ak47 skin or a jpeg. so they can afford to throw cash away on ads.
but sheena, I hear you ask, what about all of the businesses that DO provide valid services to society?
spotify makes enough money from ad revenue to shill out Premium™ to people who happily vomit up $5/monthly en masse. even though there's plenty of ways to listen to music that a) directly benefit the creator or b) are 100% free.
places that serve food make so much extra money from sales that they can afford to fuck over they're employees by paying them dirt and shill out for ad spaces even though nobody's gonna watch a commercial for red lobster on tv and think OOOHHH I WANT JUMBO SHRIMP and you know why? because people who are rich enough to eat ad red lobster on a whim all have enough income they probably have dvr or Premium™ streaming and don't see ads in the first place. they're gonna spur of the moment think mmm cheddar bay biscuits (because when the fuck has red lobster shilled their delicious biscuits??? NEVER, THEY SHILL THEIR SCAMPI LINGUINI AND L O B S T E R.
(red lobster did not finance this post and you can easily find imitation recipes anywhere on google but damn what tasty cheesy bread).
United States Military spends $100 MILLION dollars on shilling ads to join the army on poor people's tv to boost enlistment for their blood machine instead of the government taking that money and using it to finance our schools. we can literally cut our military budget from $780 BILLION dollars to $779 billion- that's B as in billion- remove all military ads from our TVs and buy new textbooks for every single school in the entire country. I don't know why learning institutions hide knowledge behind class gates and why historical mathematical scientific and artistic groups don't just fucking give copies of one textbook about the subject to everyone, or why the publishing companies want so much goddamn MONEY from FUCKING SCHOOLS for LITERAL CHILDREN to LEARN but whatever I'm just someone who succeeded in high school in spite of its hundreds of open glaring flaws but whatever. anyway the point is the military could give money to groups that want to end wars but no they want poor people with nowhere else to go to oil the gears with their entrails so we can continue bombing the shit out of the middle east to steal their petroleum. and ads is how they do it.
charities who claim to want to help kids with cancer or endangered animals will gladly take vast portions of the money well meaning idiots send in, pocket 1/4 of it, put another 1/4 in the tv commercials, give 1/4 to some female adult contemporary singer who isn't famous anymore to sing a sad song over the sadness porn and then give the remaining 1/4 to people who are constantly failing to cure cancer, save animals, and just give up and join the nonprofit orgs that actually accomplish things instead. if a charity can afford to spend millions of dollars on fuckin ADVERTISING, they're a bunch of bloated and corrupt bastards who shouldn't be trusted with a goddamn penny. their members should be promoting shit FOR FREE if they actually care. not buying ad space on the cw tnt cbs & nbc. unless the businesses DONATE ad space. but they don't do that because all CEOs are evil. lol
what does wikipedia do when it needs cash? it POLITELY ASKS FOR MONEY IN A BANNER IN THE CORNER OF THE WEBSITE. ao3 does it too. and if dumb motherfuckers wanna shit on wikipedia for being the most accurate and communally moderated source of information on the entire internet "inaccurate"[citation needed] or ao3 for being the last bastion of independent fiction against federal censorship whores and virtue signaling white-knight moral guardians who don't actually care about victims of rape and csa "having incest fics", and yet say absolutely nothing to greedy conglomerates who destroy the planet, commit genocide and enslave coastal & island nation child residents, spread eugenics & other evil pseudoscientific propaganda, sexualize infantilize and fetishize women, and let millions die from cancer every day? then they're just as culpable.
fuck advertisements.
unless you're an independent content creator or something in which case that's not ads it's marketing and publicity which is different.
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Nephila Chapter 5: Everglades
The fic where the Stiltskin men are all giant spiders (and some people are into that.)
In which Emma Swan is Florida Woman
Trigger warning: Killian Jones
Read on AO3
“Parks department is gonna shoot us with their tranquilizer guns if they catch us out here, Swan.”
Emma rolled her eyes at Killian and kept steering her fishing boat through the swamp. This section of the glades was tricky to navigate. She couldn’t let his whining distract her.
They were in a flat-bottomed aluminum jon boat, ten feet long. It didn’t have a built-in engine. Normally Emma used a paddle to get her where she needed to go on the water. Since her plans today were taking her further out than normal, she had “borrowed” a portable Evinrude motor from her friend Penny. It would be fine though; Penny’s boat just got impounded, so she wasn’t gonna miss the motor.
“I never said you had to come, Jones.” She shielded her eyes from the bright Florida sun. Her glasses were dirty and scratched. The reflection on the water doubled the light and made it impossible to see. She shoulda brought a visor.
“No, you just said you were going to do something dangerous and stupid.” Killian lounged against the side of the boat and used both hands to swat at bugs. “You know I can’t resist a challenge.”
“Of course not. That’s why you keep hanging around me, even though I don’t wanna bang you.”
“You mean you don’t want to bang me yet!” He gave her the grin that had worked on every other girl in the tri-county area. “I remain hopeful.”
“You remain delusional.”
Every once in a while, Emma thought about sleeping with Killian just so he would get over it and stop bothering her. He was decent company when he wasn’t horny. He was the only person in their group who would go on crazy adventures with her, and he never minded letting her crash at his place. They’d gotten each other in and out of trouble at least a hundred times since she’d moved to Florida during her freshman year of high school.
That was part of the problem with Killian. She’d known him too long. When they’d met, he’d been zitty and awkward, tagging along after his older brother Liam. Killian hadn’t gotten hot until senior year when he started growing a beard. All that shaggy dark hair brought out his bright blue eyes and covered up his acne. He wasn’t bad looking. And he was almost smart. Growing up on a houseboat made him act like he knew everything about every kind of boat, so he was never afraid to act like a drunk pirate. A lot of girls were into that.
For herself, Emma had heard his voice crack too many times to ever think about him as a sexual option. And yet, ever since graduation, she had found herself at the top of his “to-do list.” It was putting a real strain on their friendship.
“Oh, come on, luv! You know I’ll do anything for you. But if I’m gonna get a hand bit off by a crocodile, I’d feel better about it if I knew there was gonna be some kind of reward for my trouble.”
“Sex isn’t a reward, dumbass.” Hand on the tiller of the motor, Emma steered them around a patch of sawgrass and into a free-flowing slough where the water could carry them. “And besides, there aren’t any crocodiles in Florida. It’s all gators. I only lived here five years and even I know that!”
“Ha!” Killian pointed a triumphant finger at her. “Well, I’ve lived on these waters all my life! And I know that the American Crocodile is the only crocodile that co-exists with alligators. It’s an endangered species and it only lives here in the Everglades!”
She narrowed her eyes. “You just heard that on the Internet.”
Killian shrugged. “Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
Emma shook her head. Whether or not Killian should believe something he read on the Internet was an argument they had at least once a week. Going over it again wasn’t worth it.
“Point is,” she said. “We’re going to the part of the glades where there aren’t any gators or crocodiles.”
Killian made a face. “There’s no such place.”
“There sure is!”
He still didn’t believe her. “How do you know gators aren’t there?”
“Cuz there’s too much other stuff. There’s a billion more birds and bugs and lizards in this part of the swamp than there is anywhere else.”
“In the whole Everglades?”
“Yeah. I read an article about it. On the Internet.”
If Killian wanted to give her crap about her news source, he was going to have one hell of an argument. But he had just enough brains not to, so Emma got to explain.
“The article had all these science people talking about the ‘explosion of biodiversity’ in this one tiny section of the Glades. It’s probably been going on for a while, but they just noticed it a couple months ago. All the animals and things that you find one of in any other part of the Glades, you’ll find ten of ‘em in this part we’re going to now.”
“With all the animals there, why aren’t there any gators snapping them up?”
“That’s what the scientists wanted to know. They said it makes sense that there’s more little things crawling around when there aren’t any big things to eat ‘em. But it doesn’t make sense that all the gators, the ‘apex predators,’ just disappeared. They think something is killing the gators but letting everything else go. They’re real worried about it too. So I figure there might be some kinda reward for finding out what’s going on.”
“A reward?” Killian sat up so fast the boat rocked. “You didn’t say anything about a reward!”
“I just did,” Emma smirked. “But we gotta keep it secret. I don’t want anybody trying to edge in on our find.”
“Wait, what are you trying to find?”
“Didn’t you hear a word I said? I’m going to find whatever’s eating the gators!”
Killian’s jaw dropped. “Are you crazy? You think there’s something big enough to eat gators and the first thing you wanna do is go after it?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Emma turned back to the tiller. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and unlocked the screen. The article she’d read had a dinky little drawing of a map where all the strange activity was going on. Emma had compared it to the real map on Google and taken a screenshot of where she wanted to go. They should be close.
Killian was still freaking out. At least he was smart enough not to move so much that it would tip the boat over. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Swan?”
“I told you I was gonna do something stupid and dangerous.”
“You know it’s probably just snakes, right? Them pythons people get as pets, then they get too big and people let ‘em loose in the swamp and they eat everything. My buddy Kaa had to do that once.”
“If it was just a bunch of snakes, the science people wouldn’t be so weirded out about it. It’s something they can’t explain.”
“For all you know it could be a giant fucking monster! Did you bring a gun or something? You know McLeach is good to hook us up.”
Emma shook her head. “This is just a fact-finding mission. I don’t need a gun, I’ve got this.” She held up a digital camera in a plastic zipper bag. “I told Hat Man the whole story and he let me use this to take pictures.”
Killian ran his hand over his face. “Of course he did. Hat Man is the only other person in all of Florida who’s as crazy as you!”
Emma threw up her hands. “There are lots of people who do dumber stuff than me or Hat Man ever tried!”
“Yeah, but none of them ever did something that’s gonna get me killed! I swear, Swan--”
“Would the two of you please shut up?” Some guy’s voice rang out over the water. “You’re bothering the monster!”
Emma cut the motor and stood up. The jon boat wobbled but steadied itself after a second. Pushing up her glasses, she scanned around the water. She couldn’t spot any other boats around all the sawgrass patches.
“Who the hell are you?” she shouted. “And how the fuck do you know about the monster?”
The voice chuckled. “Lady, I know more about monsters than you know about your own parents.”
Emma clenched her jaw and muttered. “You don’t know shit about my parents, jackass.”
Sitting on the bench seat closest to the front of the boat, Killian put his head in his hands. “Let’s get out of here, Swan. Whoever this asshole is, the gator-eater can go eat him.”
“The gator-eater can eat this guy, just so long as I get a picture.” She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted. “Where are you? Can you see anything?”
“I’ve got so many eyes, I can see everything.” The voice wasn’t shouting anymore. It sounded close. Emma hadn’t heard a motor running. Was this guy in a canoe? This far out away from the shore?
Her head spun as she looked around, but she didn’t see anything besides sawgrass and dead tree limbs and a million birds and bugs. There was an extra glare on the water around here, some kinda gold light coming off the patches of land.
“Where are you?” she asked again.
“Over here.”
A head popped out of the nearest patch of sawgrass. This patch had the most of the weird light, so much gold it barely looked green at all. Squinting, she tried to see who she was looking at.
At first, Emma thought it was just a normal guy with a tan. Then she thought the guy had some killer tattoos, maybe jail tats. There were dark brown circles all over his face. Then, the circles blinked at her. Then the guy smiled--and his mouth was green. No, that was not a human mouth. He had fangs. He had pincers.
“Oh, Jesus,” Emma whispered.
She couldn’t move. This was the thing she was looking for, but she couldn’t move. The camera was right by her feet. Her phone was in her back pocket. The boat tiller was less than a foot away from her hand. But she couldn’t move.
From up on his mound of sawgrass, the guy--the thing, the monster--was still smiling. He waved at her.
Somehow, she could wave back.
Sitting down, Killian hadn’t seen what Emma was looking at. “Do you see him?” he asked as he stood up. “I wanna get a good look at our competit--holy shit!”
Everything happened at once. Emma could only think of things in freeze-frame. She saw one second of Killian panicking. One second of him falling over backwards into the water. One second of him toppling the whole boat on his way down. One second of Hat Man’s camera in its ziploc bag flying into the air.
One second of the water coming closer as she fell.
The water wasn’t deep--just deep enough that she didn’t hit her head on the ground. Her glasses almost flew up off her face, but she grabbed them just in time. Spitting and sputtering, Emma managed to get to her feet in the soft mud. This time of year was the dry season, so when she stood up, the water only came up to her chest. But that didn’t mean much for the phone in her pants pocket. By the time she thought to raise it up over her head, it was already soaked.
“Shit,” she swore. “You owe me a new phone, monster-guy!”
At least Hat Man’s camera was in a waterproof bag. But from where she was, six inches above the water’s surface, there was no way she was going to find it.
“Shit!” Emma swore again. “And if I don’t get that fucking camera back, you are gonna be in huge trouble!”
Laughter rang out over the swamp. It wasn’t Killian. It had to be the guy. That monster jackass was laughing at her!
“This isn’t fucking funny!” she shouted.
The thing kept laughing. “Yes it is. I mean, come on, lady. You gotta admit this is classic comedy.”
She could not believe this. She’d gone out on the water to find a monster, found out it was a smart-ass jerk, and then lost any way to prove it to anybody! That wasn’t funny, it was…
Okay, it was pretty funny. But she still had every right to be mad about it!
“Killian, can you believe this sh--” Emma stopped when she realized she had no idea where Killian was. She couldn’t see him or the boat. He hadn’t said anything since he had seen the monster. There were a million sounds coming from a million animals, but none of them sounded like a grown man swimming.
Or drowning.
“Shit!” The third time Emma said that word, it was with bone-deep dread. Her mouth went dry and for a second she panicked. God, Killian could not be dead. She would get in so much trouble!
“Hey, asshole!” she shouted as she began to wade towards the gold-covered island. “You with the eyes and the sense of humor!”
“Call me Neal!” the monster shouted back. He sounded like he was trying to be friendly.
Emma’s mouth dropped open, but then she closed it before a bug could fly in. Where did a monster get off having a name like Neal? She shook her head. It didn’t matter. What mattered was Killian.
“Okay, Neal. Sure. Listen, Neal, I need your help. I know I talked a lot of shit to you, but this is serious. Can you see my friend?”
“You mean the wannabe bad boy? Yeah, he’s getting eaten by crocodiles.”
“WHAT?” Emma shrieked.
“Nope. That was a joke. Bad taste, I guess. Actually, he looks fine. He was able to get the boat flipped over and he is motoring off to the horizon.”
“WHAT?” Now Emma was in a full-on bellow. Over the sound of blood pounding in her ears, she could hear the faint whine of an Evinrude outboard motor. “That son of a bitch stole my boat!”
Now that she knew Killian wasn’t dead, she was fully prepared to kill him. She staggered to the island that was covered in a haze of gold--it looked like a bunch of fancy spider webs, but that was the least of her concerns.
“Are you around here?” she yelled. “Neal?”
The same head and arms emerged from the grassy water. Up close, the face looked even weirder. There was a circle of brown eyes, all different sizes and all dark as buttons. She couldn’t tell if there was a nose or not. And the mouth was way too wide and way too fangy, especially when it looked like it was smiling. There were… things on either side of his smile, bright, shiny green things, a part of his mouth, she guessed.
Weirdest of all, over the monster’s human-looking chest and arms, he was wearing a Hawaiian shirt. It was green, with yellow flowers.
“My father always told me to help a human in need. What can I do for you?”
Right now, Emma was too angry to be confused. “Can you swim?”
Neal raised himself up a little higher out of the sawgrass and Emma saw what the rest of him looked like.
It was one of those half-man, half-horse things she’d seen in movies. Centaurs, that’s what they were called. Only it wasn’t a horse that Neal was half of. Too many legs for that. He was light brown and gray, so he blended in with all the mud and sticks. His legs looked kinda stubby, and they all came out of one place in front of… Emma didn’t have any other word for it but spider-butt.
Sweet Jesus’ birthday. The gator-eater was a goddamned spider-man!
Neal didn’t talk for a second. Emma figured he was letting her get used to him. But that was gonna take a while and Killian the rat bastard was getting further away by the second. Emma put her hands on her hips and looked this thing in its two biggest eyes.
“Did you hear what I said? Can you swim?”
“I’ve got so many legs, I can swim anywhere. You want me to catch up with your boat and teach that guy a lesson?”
“Hell no. I want you to take me to my boat so I can give that son of a bitch a black eye myself.”
Neal snorted--or maybe it was a snort. He sounded like he thought it was funny. “I can do that.” He smiled and lowered his spider-legs so his whole body was near the ground. “You wanna climb aboard?”
Emma wasn’t afraid to ride on the back of a spider-thing through the Everglades. She’d been riding jet-skis since she was ten. This couldn’t be that different. It’d probably be easier, since Neal would be able to do all the steering himself.
He was already mostly in the water, so she just kind of fell on top of him, with her legs on either side of his… Was it a waist? The lower part of his human half.
Short, prickly hairs grew all over the spider half. They came out when she moved her legs against them. Emma was glad she had decided to wear full pants today instead of shorts.
“Okay.” She grabbed the Hawaiian shirt with both hands and tugged. “Giddy-up.”
Neal tensed up and for a minute he didn’t say anything. Then he turned his head to talk to her. “What’s your name?”
“Emma,” she said. Oh crap, was he mad?
“Okay, Emma, listen up. I’m going to help you get your boat, because I am a helpful kind of individual. But if you ever treat me like an animal again, you will be swimming home. Understand?”
“Oh.” Emma let go of his shirt. “Crap, I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “No big deal. I’m sure you’re not used to people like me. Now, let’s go retrieve some stolen property!”
Neal had four legs on either side, but he only used the front three to swim. His back legs dragged through the water to balance him out like a dead man’s float. The other legs pushed past the water, all working together. It almost looked like a bird flapping its wings against the wind. Was that what a butterfly stroke looked like? Or was this just a spider stroke?
All that mattered was that Neal was fast. And he knew this area better than Killian did. They caught up to him when he was trying to push his way through an area too shallow for the jon boat.
“Hey!” Emma shouted. “Are you fucking running my boat aground?”
She was too far away to see the expression on Killian’s face. All Emma saw was him looking at the tiller, looking up at her shouting at him from the back of a swimming spider, then looking at the motor again, frantically pulling at the line to get it started.
“Stop doing that, you’re gonna flood it!” Emma shouted again. Killian stopped, and she leaned forward to talk to Neal. “You can take it easy if you want. He’s not going anywhere.”
Chuckling, Neal reduced his speed. The strokes through the water were slower now, but they felt more powerful.
Now that she knew she’d be getting her boat back, Emma breathed a sigh of relief. She leaned back on her hands against the spider-butt and rested in the sun.
Neal must have noticed. “You enjoying the ride?”
Emma nodded, but then realized that he couldn’t see her. “I figured I been on these glades every way you could be except over ‘em in a helicopter. Never thought I’d get to see ‘em on the back of a spider.”
“Do you like it?”
“Yeah.”
They were getting closer to Killian. His freaking out kept getting louder, probably because he could see Neal in better detail. Or maybe because he knew Emma was going to beat seven kinds of crap out of him for stealing her boat and running away without her.
“He is such a dingus,” she muttered.
Neal chuckled again. “Listen,” he said. “If you ever wanna… find me again, I’ll try not to scare you next time.”
“Now that I know you, I don’t think you could scare me,” Emma said proudly. “But I might not be able to get out here again for a while. I’ll have to do a little hustle to get another phone. Plus, I gotta tell Hat Man I lost his camera. He might want me to pay for that too, so my weekends are probably gonna be booked.”
“Oh.” Was she crazy or did he sound disappointed?
They were within spitting distance of Killian now. It was a weird thing, but Emma almost didn’t want to stop swimming with Neal.
“Here’s your boyfriend,” he said as he swam up to the boat.
Killian’s terror had gotten to the stage where he was huddled in the furthest corner of the boat, white faced and wide eyed. Over and over he whispered, “What the fuck?”
Crawling off Neal’s back, Emma scrambled into her boat. Yep, Killian the pirate had run a ten-foot fishing boat into the only section of the Everglades that jutted up over the water. It was a miracle there wasn’t any damage to the hull that would make them take on water.
Neal was already swimming away, but Emma called out. “Don’t leave yet!”
He spun around. Was she crazy or had his eyes lit up?
“Can you do me another favor? Can you pull us away from this sandbar?”
Nodding, Neal grabbed the boat with his human hands. His hands and arms were the same weird color as his spider parts, kind of a muddy brown. The Hawaiian shirt covered his shoulders, but his chest was bare. Emma could see the muscles in his forearms. He looked… strong.
He swam out to a slough with the boat in tow. Killian looked like he was going to throw up.
“Thanks,” Emma said when Neal let go. She wanted to say more, but she didn’t know what.
“No problem,” he answered.
Treading water, all of Neal’s legs pumped like he was riding eight different unicycles. He bobbed up and down like a jellyfish. Emma got the feeling that he wanted to say more too.
“Jesus Christ,” Killian moaned. “Swan, can we please go home?”
“Now you be nice to Emma, okay dingus?” Neal swam around to that side of the boat. With his human hand, he reached up and ruffled Killian’s hair. “I bet if she wasn’t such a nice person, she’d push you out of the boat and leave you here with me.”
“Jesus Christ!” Killian squealed. He crawled backwards away from Neal like a panicked rat.
Emma tried not to laugh at her friend. She needed to get him home before he started crying. She started the engine and began to motor away.
“Thanks again, Neal,” she waved. “I’ll see you around!”
He waved back. “I hope so.”
****
Even when they got back to shore, Killian was still spooked. Emma had to talk him through every step of docking, even though they’d both done it a million times. At least they were able to sneak the Evinrude back into Penny's garage without getting caught. That was about the only thing that had gone right all day.
When they got back to the houseboat he lived in with his brother Liam, she plopped him down at his kitchen table. She put a cold beer in his hands and started to fry up some hot dogs for lunch.
He just stared at the bottle. “What was that, Swan?” he asked. “What the fuck was that thing?”
Standing in front of the two-burner stove, Emma shrugged. “He says his name is Neal.”
“‘He’?” Killian repeated. His head fell into his hands. “‘He says.’ He talks? Swan, this is insane!”
“Sure is.” Secretly, Emma was glad Killian was freaking out. It meant she didn’t have to. She could be the reasonable one in the face of all this fucked up shit.
They ate lunch in silence. Emma hated the taste of beer, but there was a hard lemonade in the fridge and she helped herself. Once they were done eating, Emma threw away the bottles and the paper plates. Killian and Liam never asked her to clean up for them, but she knew that if she didn’t, the garbage would stay on the table for the better part of a month.
“I gotta go see Hat Man,” she announced. “Better tell him now what happened to his camera.”
“I’m coming with you,” Killian said with more life than he had put into anything for the past hour. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”
Emma nodded, and they started walking.
****
Geoffrey “Hat Man” Jefferson was the closest thing to an adult that either Emma or Killian trusted. He told them once that his family used to be rich, that a hundred years ago finding feathers for hats in the Everglades was a big business. His great-grandparents bought a lot of land and built a big fancy house on the water. Hat Man still owned the land, and he still wore fancy hats. But the big house had gotten flooded so many times no one could live there anymore. Now he lived in a trailer and spent most of his time getting high on magic mushrooms.
He was a pretty chill guy. Emma didn’t think he would get mad about the camera, but that just made her feel worse about losing it. Hat Man had done her a favor and she had fucked it up.
Story of her life.
When they got to the trailer, Emma and Killian found Hat Man and the usual group in the front yard by the road. It looked like they had taken the dining room table from the big house and set it up outside. All their friends were sitting in the dining room chairs, drinking from China teacups and saucers. Margot and Tilly were holding hands and singing to themselves. McLeach was drinking tea with his pinky up and his rifle slung over the back of his chair.
The table was set with all kinds of pretty platters and bowls--though the menu seemed to be made up of whatever could be snuck out of a gas station convenience store. A red-headed kid named Oliver held out a crystal serving dish of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos to Dodger, who was using a pair of silver tongs to place them, one by one, on his plate. The lace tablecloth fluttered in the breeze and got tangled in the tall grass.
If these were Emma and Killian’s friends, maybe they weren’t actually good judges of what was or was not crazy.
Hat Man noticed them, and raised his teacup in greeting. “Salutations!” he called. “Far-flung comrades, come back to join us in the fold!”
Everyone at the table looked at them. Without anyone saying anything, they all moved around and adjusted their chairs so Emma and Killian could both have seats. Killian found refuge between McLeach and a girl named Vixie--though Vixie seemed a lot more interested in Todd. Todd was a new guy to the group, and had never lived away from his momma before getting dumped here.
Emma sat down next to Hat Man, who handed her a three-level cookie tray loaded with Ding Dongs.
“How mellifluous to see you on this fair day, Mademoiselle Swan! To what honor do I owe the occasion?”
Today Hat Man was wearing black tuxedo pants and a silk purple vest with no shirt underneath. The brim of his battered top hat shadowed his eyes, so Emma couldn’t see exactly how blasted out he was. It appeared to be a lot.
“Actually…” Nervously, Emma fiddled with her glasses until Hat Man, very gently, pulled them off her face and placed them into a glass pitcher of blue slurpee.
“You see better when you don’t have stuff in front of your eyes,” he explained.
“That’s true,” Tilly nodded from across the table. Unlike everyone else at the table, Tilly had drugs that she should be taking, but wasn’t.
Emma actually saw much worse without her glasses, but that wasn’t anything worth caring about now. Even without them on, she still kept touching her face.
“Hat Man, do you remember the digital camera you let me borrow?”
“I recall it with the utmost vividity!” he said. His mouth was full of a burrito that appeared to still be frozen.
“Well, I’m super sorry but, it’s gone.”
He patted at his mouth with a cloth napkin. “Desiccation and decay is the way of all flesh, Emmy-wemmy. And all the goods we horde will crumble into dust or be swallowed by the somnambulatory sea.” He took off his hat and solemnly placed it over his heart. “Adieu, O photographic device of mine! May your memory be a blessing unto the next generation.”
The only other person paying attention was Tilly. She had tears in her eyes as she nodded along with what Hat Man was saying.
“So you’re not mad?” Emma said.
“Very mad, but not at all angry.” Jefferson took a burnt Pizza Roll off a silver platter, threw it into the air and caught it in his mouth. “What happened to it, anyway?”
“I…” she didn’t know how to start. “I wanna say you’re not gonna believe this, but I think you’re the only person who will.”
In hushed tones, she told him the whole story. The news article, the missing alligators, the island of gold thread--Neal. Hat Man listened politely, nodded and asked questions, but in the end he shook his head and said that the whole thing was poppycock.
“What?” Emma said. “But I saw the whole thing! And Killian was there, you can ask him!”
“Don’t be farcical,” Hat Man took a sip of… well, it was in a teacup, but it probably wasn’t tea. “How on earth could such a creature get here from Australia?”
Emma frowned. “I didn’t say anything about Australia.”
“Indubitably,” he said. Emma had no idea what he meant by that. “But Australia is the only place where I’ve ever witnessed such a creature before.”
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babysit side effects
A/N: This was requested by anon, I hope you enjoy! sorry it took so long, Ihope it was worth it. Please let me know what you think, and if anyone has any requests please let me know!
summary: Can you write a fic where richie and eddie are babysitting one of the losers kids, and it makes them realize they want a kid of their own? Thank you :)
warnings: curse words
‘Okay, so let’s go over this again. Sophia has her first bottle of milk at 7:30 am, followed by her second bottle of milk by 11:15 am. At 12:30 she eats either fruit or a vegetable, and then at 3:15 he has another feeding time, this time a vegetable or fruit depending on what you gave her before, and then at 6:45 she has her last feed which is milk. Do you understand?’
Richie nodded somingly, even when he had to try hard to keep his laughter in, the serious and panicked look on Stan’s face too much to handle.
‘Of course Staniel, don’t you trust me to take care of your kids for a day?’
There was a beat of silence, during which Stan stared at Richie intently, trying to gauge if he was serious, or if he was just trying to provoke him. Then; ‘Off fucking course not Richie. Patty take your bags back inside, we’re not going.’
Laughter poured from Patty, who was just loading in her bag in the backseat, straitening up and walking closer to them. When she got close enough, she reached out and plucked Sofia out of Richie’s arms, her in hand holding her by her bum, while the other on supports the back of her head.
She coos at her daughter, full of love and not an ounce of annoyance anywhere visible on her entire face, despite the fact that Richie saw her slobber all over Patty’s blouse only minutes before she had to leave.
‘Sure we do Rich,’ Patty assures him while she grants his a kiss against his cheek as goodbye. ‘Stan and I wouldn’t have asked you if we didn’t think you were up to the challenge. Besides, we’re only going to be gone for a night, and we’ll return first thing in the morning. If anything goes wrong he can call us.’
There only off to help Patty’s mom move into a new nursing home for the day and night, but it’s the first time that they’ve been away from their children since Sofia was born, and Richie insist to make their time away free of all concerns. That is if they finally leave at least.
Stan kisses his daughter on the forehead holding her close for one last moment, before allowing Patty to hand her back into Richie’s awaiting arms.
It shocks Richie’s that baby’s are so small, though he knows logically that everyone was that small at one point or another, it’s one thing to know it, and another to actually see it.
‘Eddie is here too, so there’s two of them.’ Patty and Stan resort to a silent stand-off, holding a none spoken argument that Patty wins, if her smug smile is anything to go by.
‘There are also two children, so let’s hope they can handle both.’ Richie fake gasps, moving to hold his hand up in faux outrage, but stops when he is reminded of the, albeit barely there, weight of little Sofia, who is now fast asleep on his chest.
Knowing when to be serious, Richie lets his facade drop, Bowing down to catch Stan's eyes, before smiling reassuringly. ‘We got this Stan, trust me.’
Stan smiles back without a moment of hesitation,’ I know. If anything happens to be my babies, I’ll kill you in your sleep.’ The serious expression on his face enough to make Richie gulp, regardless of the fact that he knows Stan doesn’t mean it.
‘Copy that sir.’
‘Speaking of our two babies, where’s Emily?’ Patty demands, turning in a circle in search for her but not locating here.
‘I’m pretty sure she roped Eddie into dress up and having a tea party with her, so I think for the sake of Eddie’s sanity, we should leave now.’
The bolstering laugh from Richie is way too loud on the peaceful morning most of Stan’s neighbors are experiencing, but Patty joins him, so it’s not too bad. Suspiciously, Patty pauses right after to stare longingly at her daughter, her eyes becoming a little wet.
‘Alright, let’s go. Give Eddie my best.’ She hugs Sophia one last time, then turns away to sniffle and hide her tears, no doubt a little sad a the prospect of not seeing her girls. Richie moves to comfort her, but Stan is on the case, and he can do a much better job than Richie, no doubt in his mind.
Richie stands there uncomfortably, rocking baby Sofia back and forth, and staring at her sleeping face to avoid stalking the two lovers in front of him.
He only looks up when Stan loudly proclaims their leaving, ‘come on Babylove.’ Waving at Sophia likes she’s about to wave back. After, he carefully hugs Richie’s side, avoiding squashing Soph while also deeming his goodbye to Richie.
He too is reluctant to leave Sophia and Emily in the care of Eddie and Richie, but not because he doesn’t trust them, he just finds it hard to go anywhere without them.
They still leave regardless, after ten more minutes of saying goodbye, then they finally leave, turning the corner right as Eddie comes out of the house checking up on Richie to see what was taking him so long.
When Richie turns to face Eddie, he shrieks with laughter, not managing to contain himself. Patty’s old lipstick red dress that has holes in the sides of them and a little bit of dirt on one of the sleeves looks good on Eddie, even if Richie may be a bit biased and thinks everything looks fantastic when it’s Eddie that’s wearing it, but it’s the pink crown and staff that he’s holding, and the murderous leer he’s showing, that has Richie cackling like there’s no tomorrow.
‘Don’t you fucking dare, asshole.’ Eddie swears menacingly, but Richie can’t take him seriously, not when Emily scatters out of the house to tug on the bottom of the dress, the three year old herself slipped in the princess dress Eddie and Richie gave her as a present on her birthday a few weeks back. He bets Eddie didn’t expect it to backfire this way.
‘Uncle Eddie come on’, Emily whines, the three year old wearing an frozen Anna dress that is a tad too big on her, ‘The others are waiting on us.’
The other include, mister giraffe, Amika the horse, and Elsa, all in the form of stuffed animals gifted to her by various losers when they came to visit.
‘Yeah uncle Eds, it’s rude to keep the guest waiting you know.’ Richie eggs her on, smirking in delight when Eddie unsuspiciously flips him the bird, but follows Emily anyway, off to indulge her in whatever she requests him to do.
His laughter caused Sophia to wake up again, and she fuzzily bangs her tiny fist on Richie’s chest, as if to convey that she’s mad she was awoken. He tries to bounce her gently up and down, to et her settled again, then changes his mind and enters the house on a whim, trudging up the stairs to join Eddie and Emily in her playroom.
Getting close enough to the door to hear Emily’s voice does the trick, as he expected it to. Sophia calms down, now resorted to peeking up at her uncle, a gurgle escaping her throat while she fists around a piece of his hair, giggling happily.
Richie’s heart melts a little, while he gets hit with an enormous amount of love and affection, and he starts to understand why Patty and Stan were so begrudged to go anywhere without her.
Her blanket, the one she has on her at all times, is still pined safely to the front of her beanie, bunched up in the hand that is not pulling one of his curls. He catches a glimpse of Eddie, folded nearly completely in on himself, forced to sit still in a chair that is even too small for Emily to fit in properly, sipping on a tea cup but making 100 % sure the side of it doesn’t touch his bottom lip.
Emily simpers, lifting her own teacup to her mouth with a pinky stretched up as a greeting to him, chastising Eddie like he is the kid instead of her, when Eddie stretches upwards to grab a muffin.
Doing a poor job of hiding his laughter, Eddie takes notice of Richie staring at them from the door opening, at first looking vex, but then an emotion crosses his eyes that Richie can’t define. He shakes his head and focuses back on the table, but not fast enough to stop the sentiment from getting picked up by Richie.
‘Well, it looks they’re too busy for us right now. It’s just me and you then. Don’t give me that look bumper’, the nickname Richie duped her after finding out that her name was chosen after they saw it on a bumper sticker slipping out effortlessly, not with standing the arguments of Stan. ‘She can not find out about that Richie. I swear to god, I will keep you away from her long enough until I’ve convinced her that everything you say is a lie.’
‘I can be a good replacement dad for the day, just you wait and see.’
-------------------
Five hours later, when the clock strikes 3:15 pm, Richie struggles with the preparing the baby formula, and he can’t figure out what he is supposed to do. There is milk that needs to be added, but when he mixes the powder and the liquid with one another, a sticky, soup of residue is left behind, and that is impossible to taste good.
Embarrassingly, Richie resorts to researching the internet, clicking on video after video to find the same brand Patty and Stan use, to be absolutely assured that he’s doing the right thing. Then when it finally hits him over the head that it is supposed to look like that, he can’t get the temperature right.
The first time he puts it in the microwave he warms it so hot that he can’t even grasp the bottle in his hands, dropping it and staring at the milk that leaked all over the floor, cursing his life and every decision that has brought him up to that point.
The second one is still cold, and he briefly considers giving the baby cold milk, before he remembers Patty’s warnings and places it back in the microwave, when he takes it out, it’s hot enough to make him release a hiss.
He gets more and more frustrated, his emotions pilling on top of each other to leave one huge dump of distress that he can’t possibly take on too, not alongside two kids, and it only gets worse when Sophia has a fit and starts crying.
Richie’s earlier tricks to calm her down don’t work, not even after a few tries, so with a groan, he throws in the towel and yanks out his cellphone, feeling like a complete and utter failure.
‘Hey Richie, do you know where Stan and Patty keep their desserts? Sophia is craving something sweet and I used the opportunity to have myself a little break.’
Eddie pauses when he steps foot in the kitchen, hey eyebrows coming together to frown when he takes in the disheveled state Richie is in.
‘What’s wrong?’ Richie shakes his head uselessly, his shoulders shrugging helplessly while gesturing towards Sophia who is nestled against his shoulder, her cries muffled but still audible.
‘I don’t know how to prepare milk.’ Eddie has the audacity to snort, a sound that Richie has never heard coming from him, so he’s helpless to let out a small one himself.
‘Don’t laugh at me Eduardo, I’m in a deep crisis right now and I require your help.’ Walking closer, Eddie accept the bottle handed to him, the word ‘auch’ escaping from him at the warmth burning his palm.
‘My help? Why me?’ Eddie asks, shooting Richie a questioning look. A pink red sticker is hanging on his forehead, Richie then notices, but since Eddie is apparently blissfully unaware of it, Richie keeps it to himself.
‘Well Eds, I assume you have enough experience with babies, you know. Since you were treated like one your entire life?’ He winces when the words leave his mouth, his mind too preoccupied with Sophia to think twice about what he was about to speak in existence.
‘Fuck you, dude. And don’t call me Eds asshole.’ Luckily, Eddie waves the comment away with the tip of his hand, doing his signature move where he pretends to karate chop the air. ‘Come here, give her to me for a second.’ Eddie suggests, and Richie obliges, handing her over with extreme caution, even when she very willingly goes.
‘You’re uncle Rich is a bit of an idiot huh? How about we go and see how we can prepare your- well it’s not dinner yet, let’s say afternoon snack?’ Sophia quieted down as she got comfortable in Eddie’s arms, one of his arms beginning to prep the formula, again, during which the other held her up and close.
He then leaned in to whisper something in her ear, not loud enough for Richie to decipher what they were talking about, but it caused Eddie to gleam again, and even Sophia let out a big grin, happily going along with whatever her uncle Eddie was proclaiming.
The sight of a baby in Eddie’s arms, his eyes twinkling in pure adoration, his grin wide enough to show teeth, while he rocked her back and forth, made Richie want to beg Eddie to raise a child with him.
He dismissed the idea soon enough though, for if Eddie had a wish for kids, surely he would have said something by now. But he knows already that the image was going to haunt his dreams for a long time, the mesmerizing sight of what could be, or could have been did not plan on leaving his mind any time soon.
He must stare for a tad too long, Eddie feeling his gaze upon him so he glances up, their eyes meeting. Eddie opens his mouth to say something, but before he can he is interrupted by Emily, impatient from waiting too long or her cookie.
‘Uncle Eddie, what’s taking you so long?’ She complains, rolling her eyes when she notices that Eddie is holding her sister.
‘In a minute sweety, I’m just helping uncle Rich out right now.’ Having an excuse from being in Eddie’s proximity while he’s holding a baby, Richie jumps on the opportunity to get out. The fact that he missed his other niece aswell guides his decision too.
‘I’ll play dress up with you for a while Princess Ems.’ He bows down extravagantly, acting as if there is real royalty in front of him.
‘Don’t you want me to teach you how to prepare milk?’ Eddie summons, his voice edged with a tint of confusion at Richie’s sudden interest to leave.
‘You can teach me about that later Eds, she needs her drink three times a day.’ Richie reassures him, fiddling with his thumbs while he begs Eddie to let the subject drop.
‘But uncle Eddie was so cool, all my friends wanted to meet him.’ Emily had yet to grow out of the phase where she us jealous of her little sister, so her whole argument isn’t about Eddie specifically, it’s about her not entertaining the idea of anyone giving her sister the light of day from who she demands it from.
But that’s alright. Richie is nothing if not persuasive. ‘Aye, that’s true but they have yet to meet me’, Richie performs, making use of the pirates accent and langue he had to learn for an audition. Emily giggles in delight, easily swayed when it involved her uncle Richie, and even more so when it had to do with his voices.
‘And if they don’t wanna know a seadog like me, I’ll force those scallywags to walk the plank. Aye. Now let’s go, heave-ho upstairs so I can be introduced.’
Emily nods enthusiastically, practically running up the stairs two steps at a time, and Richie follows with just as much energy, yelling ‘aye’ or ‘are’, every so few seconds. In his haste, he is oblivious to the same longing look Eddie gives him, when he sees him interact with a child.
-----
It’s a long day, and Richie can feel the bone deep exhaustion creeping up on him when he eventually makes his way over to the couch, Eddie dozing on the rug with the baby monitor still in his hands.
It’s not even eleven pm yet, and Richie knows that Eddie would be more relaxed in a bed than the sofa, but he also knows that they’ll be awaken more than a few times during the night, so he lets Eddie sleep.
In the wardrobe in Stan and Patty’s living room, Richie discovers a blanket, big enough to cover both him and Eddie, so he takes it, vowing to wash it before they get home. It’s soft and fluffy, and perfect to sleep with, but as soon as he tucks it around Eddie, he shits up, all sleep vanished from his eyes.
He blinks up at Richie, shuffling closer to him while disposing of the baby phone on the ground next to were they are seated, and rearranging the quilt till every part of their bodies is covered with it.
Eddie’s head lays on Richie’s shoulder, while one of his arms rubs up and down his arm and shoulder, grabbing strands of his arm hair with him sometimes, which is just what Richie needs to stay awake, the small jolts of pain keep him on his toes. And that’s necessary, he discovers over the next minute.
Without facing Richie, Eddie drops a bombshell like he’s never done before, causing Richie to choke on his own spit. ‘I want to have a baby.’
I want to have a baby, I want to have a baby, I want to have a baby, the words play on repeat in his head, ricocheting of the walls and tumbling but sticking none the less, Richie brain turning into mind numbing fizz, absolutely no thoughts besides Eddie words formulating.
The coughing alerts Eddie, who sits up straighter, looking back Richie’s way with wide eyes, as he looks on on the natural disaster that is about to concur in front of him.
When his brain comes back online, mortifying is not even big enough a word to describe the shame Richie feels for his reaction, so, he resorts to what he always does; using humor as a blockage.
‘Christ Eds, I don’t think that possible. You know, question of having the right body parts. It’s a shame really, me and your mom.-‘
‘Beep, Beep Richie.’ Eddie interrupts him strictly. ‘I need you to be honest. No jokes, just you.’ That’s a hard task, since it’s become second nature to Richie to use it as a defense mechanism, but for Eddie he’s willing to try.
‘And before you say anything, let me talk first’, Eddie insists, waiting till he gets an approving nod from Richie to continue. ‘Today, seeing you with Sophia and Emily, I realized that you’re so good with kids. And before today I honestly didn’t think I wanted children, but I guess that I didn’t want them with Myra, but I do want them with you. What do you think?’ Eddie prompts, trying to gauche Richie’s reaction, but even Eddie sometimes has trouble doing that, and now is one of those times.
Holding his breath nervously, not even Richie’s hand grabbing his is enough to calm him down, his fingers drumming against his upper leg.
‘I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you.’ Richie entrust Eddie, his body visibly relaxing when it’s clear that Richie is at the very least not going to yell at him for suggestion kids in the first place.
Their lips meet in the middle of Stan’s couch, the house around them eerily quite while the two of them are stuck in a haze together, blissfully unaware of what’s happening outside of their bubble. It’s a reassuring kiss, their lips lazily in sinc, neither in a rush, to help calm both of them down just a little, before diving head first into the deep shit again.
‘Are you sure you want to have kids with me? Because today I fucked up her stupid bottle. I mean, who can’t warm milk? And I don’t want you to hate me over something that I can’t do. I’m scared I’ll put all this weight on you and you’ll resent me for it, and I can’t have that, Eds, I can deal with everything else, but I can’t deal with you hating me.’ Richie proclaims, out of breath and sucking in large gulps of air.
Eddie pulls his face closer to his, both of his palms on either side of Richie’s head. ‘Listen to me dipshit, cause I’m only fucking saying this ones. You could murder someone in front of me, and I would roll with it okay? I came out and left my wife, and yeah, part of that was because of me, but I would have never understood what those feeling were if it weren’t for you. I love you Richie, and that’s never going to change no matter what.’ Eddie pauses, searching Richie eyes for confirmation that he understood. ‘Dipshit’, he added when he found it.
Richie let out a titter, one of his hands coming up to cover Eddie’s and leaning into the touch.
‘If you’re only worried about not knowing stuff to do with the kids, than I can help with that. That’s what a relationship is. I teach you things, and you teach me. Besides, there’s going to be a specific choir assignment, because there’s no fucking way I’m cleaning a baby’s diaper.’
‘Well then, Edward Francis Kaspbrak, it would be my honor to have a baby with you.’ Eddie’s face it up, through and through genuineness this time. No annoyance or irritation anywhere in sight, so of course, Richie had to change that.
‘Again, not biological because that would be impossible.’
‘Shut the fuck up asshole.’ Eddie grabbed a pillow to whack Richie full in the face, laughter pouring out of him when he accidentally knocked his glaces off.
‘Hey Eds, you might want to learn how to control that temper of yours, we wouldn’t want our beloved child to adapt the same words right?’
‘Seriously, I’ll fucking murder you if you don’t shut the fuck up.’
#reddie#reddie fluff#kid fic#richie tozier imagine#eddie kaspbrack#eddie kaspbrak imagine#My writing#it chapter two imagine#babysitting#stan as a dad#sort off#eddie kaspbrak as a dad#richie tozier as a dad
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One-line starter prompts from the YouTube nature series True Facts by Ze Frank.
Feel free to change words and/or wording to fit your purposes!
Warning: Slight (N)SFW in some!
• ❝ This makes me very glad that we have nipples. ❞
• ❝ It’s like a rainbow. ...Of ugly. ❞
• ❝ I’m sure you can afford to take a nap. Just don’t pee if you’re lying on your back. ❞
• ❝ If you said ‘False’ to any of those, you’re a cynical bastard when it comes to love. ❞
• ❝ [Laughing.] It’s too creepy...! What’s over here? ❞
• ❝ ...There is no such creature. Dragons. Dragons are not real. ❞
• ❝ Remember that when you meet someone you find attractive, at least you don’t have to worry about a dart getting shot into your head. ❞
• ❝ Stay alive... or get laid? Stay alive... or get laid? ❞
• ❝ How do you take your coffee? One hump or two? I mean, I -- I wanna hump you. ❞
• ❝ He even writes poetry. About grapes. ❞
• ❝ Why is he stalking that Santa baby? Run away, Santa baby! ❞
• ❝ When you constantly have your junk in someone else’s face who has giant teeth, you’d better know how to get along. ❞
• ❝ ...Just kidding. Of course we’ve got the footage. ❞
• ❝ If someone scares you, just bend over and fart your lungs all over that bastard. Who knows? It might just work. ❞
• ❝ This is a video of a baby duck. ...They are yellow. ❞
• ❝ Not to brag, but I’ve done a bit of water ballet in my day, and I’m no stranger to a good battling. ❞
• ❝ Remember: if someone gives you the finger, they might just be hungry. ❞
• ❝ Imagine a color that you can’t even imagine. Now imagine that nine more times. ❞
• ❝ It doesn’t really work for humans, but you do look like an idiot. ❞
• ❝ Ughh... Look away... Look away... I’m not looking. That is traumatic. ❞
• ❝ Point is, don’t let the tentacle parts wrap around your head. ❞
• ❝ Fairies have wings and tiny underpants. I’ve seen them. ❞
• ❝ Everyone knows that the interestingness of an animal is directly proportional to how difficult it is to figure out where its butthole is. ❞
• ❝ It’s in Australia, and they do everything in reverse down there. Supposedly, the Australian puts his head in the toilet bowl and pees upwards. Just the opposite of us. ❞
• ❝ [Laughing.] Oh, shit! We have a problem... [Name]’s dead! ❞
• ❝ Like my mom used to say... ‘If you need calcium, eat a milkman’. ❞
• ❝ Hey, don’t judge. If I could, I would secrete a tiny little hamburger from my bellybutton for you to eat. ❞
• ❝ [Drunken mumbling.] Gerbererger... myrmecophagous mondowahwehmuffin... You stole my blue lighter. ❞
• ❝ Don’t be a perv; I’m talking about my pinky. ‘Pinky’ is what I call my penis. Who’s the perv now? ❞
• ❝ Think of it as putting that little divider between your groceries at the checkout line. And imagine that your groceries were sperm. ❞
• ❝ This looks like it’s from an Instagram account named ‘Butt Circus’. ❞
• ❝ I keep thinking of the videographer going to his mother’s house with the check, saying ‘See? I told you someone would want this!’ ❞
• ❝ Check me out! I’m a mummy! ...Oh, shit. I’m a mummy. ❞
• ❝ If you’ve eaten sand before, you’re probably thinking, ‘Why the fuck are you eating sand?’ ❞
• ❝ The best science is often a long, slow, passive-aggressive argument. ❞
• ❝ That’s how it always goes: you can’t put your finger on it all day, and then you’re laying in bed at night, and it just pops up out of nowhere. ❞
• ❝ Gravity can be a bit of a bitch. ❞
• ❝ ...If these kids are idiots, I’m gonna track you down. ❞
• ❝ I don’t mean a ‘dick genie’! That’s different. I mean a genie who’s being a dick. ❞
• ❝ Let’s take it off like we’re on eraser duty. ❞
• ❝ Well, did you tell him it’s your body and you don’t want to be peed on? ❞
• ❝ Do you know the game ‘Fuck, Marry, Kill’? Well, I’m gonna play that with you! But I DON’T WANNA GET MARRIED! ❞
• ❝ Scary clown says run away. ❞
• ❝ Let me get this straight. You want zebra camouflage on your ass and your legs, and a little on your head, and that’s it? ❞
• ❝ Heh... look! It’s trying to eat a people! ❞
• ❝ YOU try putting on your lipstick with no mirror! And no hands! ❞
• ❝ It’s like the internet, except communicated by pissing all over stu -- it’s basically the internet. ❞
• ❝ I swear, look for a picture of a dictionary inside of a moron and you’ll find me. ❞
#/ made by me!#starter meme#sentence meme#inbox meme#prompt meme#starter memes#sentence memes#inbox memes#prompt memes#rp meme#rp memes#roleplay meme#roleplay memes
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Since we're sharing stuff about birds for the 101, have you seen the video "Cockatoo finding out he is going to the vet" where the terrified, angry muttering sounds downright demonic? Imagine a bug spreading to all the Yoditos and when Din even thinks about going to the doctor the Razor Crest becomes the chorus from Hell (... more so than usual).
I’m the sole person on the internet who doesn’t watch a lot of animal videos, so... But I looked it up for anyone else who’s curious.
Oh my god that would be awful. Din has to like, literally round them up into carriers because otherwise they flee like stereotypical cats-going-to-the-vet. He didn’t even know he had that many hidey-holes in the Razor Crest and how did you get in that ceiling compartment anyway??? (It takes him, Cara, and a bucket of those godawful sugary frog gummies he swore he was never going to let them eat because he is not gonna be that parent, goddammit, his kids will have yai’yai* food! Hera gave him the gummies and a knowing “mmhmm” when he told her that.)
The entire time they are making THE worst hell-noise he has ever heard. Even Cara, who has heard the screams of her dying teammates, is more than a little unnerved. (IG-11 asks when Din started using soothing music to lull the children to sleep, what a nice idea, he will add it into his programming.) Winta and the other village children think it’s hilarious and imitate it immediately, even into school the next day. Din is once again in trouble with the Sorgan PTA (mainly because OG Yodito threw in some choice curse words) but his grudge match with the local Karen is less important than his sick children!
Then he has to find a doctor he can actually trust AND who has the patience to deal with up to 101 kids who have trauma tied to the whole “part of an experiment, extreme Do Not Want reaction to people in white coats with needles.” Kuiil calmly comments that perhaps a bit of rest would do wonders, but Din has already descended into Full Parental Panic Mode and will not be dissuaded. In the end the local medic from the main town is summoned. Between dealing with 101 tiny green beans making the most ungodly noise she has ever heard (it’s like frogs and space crickets in the forest at night, but if that forest was on Korriban) and their very worried and trigger-happy protective father, she has a time (especially when the solution is, of course, just rest and make sure they have plenty of fluids, maybe spread them out so they’re not crammed on that tiny ship, what the hell). She considers it worth it - the Mando paid well, she has a great story to share in the local cantina, and after no less than 26 of the Yoditos told her to “fuck off" she got all the free spotchka she could drink from the village.
Omera promised her that free spotchka arrangement would be permanent when the poor medic had to come back and tell Din that he caught it, and yes he has to rest, and yes that means he has to stop chasing the children until he’s better, and no giving me the helmet glare will not change my mind, I can hear you sniffling under there, please tell me you sanitize that thing.
*yai’yai = “*richly nourishing* - peculiarly Mandalorian description of dense, high-calorie food, of great importance to people dependent on highly portable field rations” according to mandoa.org. I just really liked the idea of Din being the Mandalorian equivalent of those organic-only parents
#.....well this spiraled#but for real tell me he sanitizes the inside of that helmet that has to be DISGUSTING#reason 1 i could never be a mandlaorian lmao#asks#glamorousgamine#101 yoditos au
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Why Solar Opposites Season 2 Brought The Wall Back
https://ift.tt/3m9sZ47
This interview contains SPOILERS for SOLAR OPPOSITES seasons 1 and 2.
Mike McMahan and Justin Roiland’s sci-fi animated sitcom Solar Opposites is technically about a family of aliens stuck on planet Earth, learning lessons about how to love one another while, they try to repair their spaceship. However, as the first season progressed, the show slowly revealed it was simultaneously telling another story.
One of the aliens, Yumyulack (Sean Giambrone), has a habit of shrinking down humans and imprisoning them in a wall-sized terrarium. In a surprising twist, we get to see that the tiny humans have actually formed their own Mad Max-ian style society in there. We learn more and more about this society until, seven episodes into the first season, Solar Opposites ditches the aliens for an entire episode set inside he Wall.
It ended up being just about everyone’s favorite thing in the show.
“We didn’t invent (the concept of) a show in a show, but I think we’re maybe the only show where the show in a show is more popular than the show,” McMahan tells Den of Geek.
When Hulu offered us the chance to speak with McMahan Justin Roiland about season two, we knew we’d better get in plenty of questions about The Wall or the Internet would come after us. Luckily, Mike and Justin love the Wall, too.
“We both love it because there’s nothing else, there’s no other project we work on, where we get to do the Wall-type stories and there’s no other show that does it like that,” says Mike.
Justin explains how, when pitching the series to other networks, Justin “wanted to come in there kicking the doors down and screaming about this concept and how fucking awesome it is,” but they were advised to downplay the eccentric, high-concept Wall plot.
Mike adds, “We originally thought that there was a chance that Solar would live on broadcast, would look like a big family Sunday night Animation Domination-type show. And when the show didn’t get picked up to series the first time, we then got a second hit at it with Hulu. And when we were in that pitch, there was no hiding it. We were like, ‘Also there’s gonna be a fucking ton of this Wall story.” And they were like, ‘Fine! Do whatever you want!’”
The Wall was part of the series from very early on. Justin explains:
“Mike and I developed the sort of broad strokes for the show. I actually don’t know the exact order of things, but I just know it was around the E3 that Bethesda announced Fallout Shelter [June 2014]. I was playing Fallout Shelter, I was doing a lot of VR stuff around this time [Roiland also has a video game company specializing in VR called Squanch Games], and working a lot on Solar, and just kind of brainstorming. Fallout Shelter was definitely the inspiration for the Wall ‘cuz I was just looking at it zoomed out.”
Mike interjects, “For me, it was like, Tiny Tower, was another app, an iOS game I was playing, too.”
This seemed like a surprising origin for the Wall until I Google Image searched both of these games and the similarities became immediately clear.
As for how the Wall storyline evolved in season two, Mike says the mantra was “Never go back on the Wall. Keep the story going, but don’t just repeat. I think you see that pretty clearly. We get really weird.”
Solar Opposites uses the Wall as a vehicle for riffing on dramatic film and television tropes in a more sincere way than the crazy alien sitcom plots are capable of. The first season was an homage to dystopian cinema, culminating in a revolution. As Mike said, season two absolutely does not repeat what came before it. This time the running Wall storyline focuses on a new character, played by Sterling K. Brown, who is hunting down a serial killer in the Wall.
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Solar Opposites Season 2 Review (Spoiler-Free)
By Joe Matar
As in the first season, the seventh episode is a Wall-centric one that takes things in an unexpected direction by taking place almost entirely outside of the Wall, following the still alive and still tiny The Duke (Alfred Molina) and Cherie (Christina Hendricks), as they try to survive the wilds of the aliens’ backyard. To complicate things more, Cherie is pregnant with Tim (Andy Daly)’s baby. This climaxes in one of the most simultaneously thrilling, bizarre, and inspired scenes Solar Opposites has ever done, as the shrunken Cherie ends up giving birth inside a Pez dispenser as normal-sized alien Jesse (Mary Mack) ejects Pez candies into her mouth one after another, unknowingly getting ever closer to devouring Cherie and her about-to-be-born baby.
When I mention how totally weird this scene is, Mike raises his arms in triumph and shouts:
“Yes! I love that Pez dispenser birth! It’s so fucking weird!” He also points out that, adding to the weirdness is that during this sequence Jesse is singing some kind of counterargument song to TLC’s “No Scrubs.”
“She’s singing like a pro-scrubs song. Yeah, that’s a crazy sequence.”
However, Mike points out that the unique and odd blend of drama and comedy we get from the Wall needs to be tempered with the sillier antics of Solar Opposites’ lead alien characters.
“Everybody who’s yelling, like, ‘Oh, I wish this show was all the Wall,’ that’s like somebody being like, ‘I wish Twinkie was all the cream.’ Like, you wouldn’t fucking like it or else you’d be out buying cans of whipped cream and eating that.
“The Wall is all about balance. The (alien) stuff is so tied to the Wall and we know what we’re doing with that. It’s like, how much of the Wall can we get away with to make it feel like you want it all the time? And that’s part of the fun of it, too.”
I mention that it’s cool how the Wall provides a structure for the series now, serving as a C-plot underneath the other storylines, and culminating with an all-Wall seventh episode in each season.
“Wait for season three,” Mike teases, “’cuz we like to fuck with expectations!”
cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });
The first two seasons of Solar Opposites are now streaming on Hulu.
The post Why Solar Opposites Season 2 Brought The Wall Back appeared first on Den of Geek.
from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/31xm63b
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If you're accepting fandom questions could we have some elaboration about those mgs jupiter family alaskan daydreams please? Also your amazing TEW art got me into the series so thanks, I'm liking it a lot!!
first of all, i’m so deeply honored that my art could get you into a game, and also : god i’m fucking sorry lol
second of all
oh god oh fuck alaskan daydreams time
okay so long /, the read mores don’t work, you’re gonna have to bear with it
so tldr i have… EXTENSIVE imaginated stories about dave, hal and sunny living in a little remote cabin in alaska.
BACKSTORY
i’d imagine it’d come somewhere post-mgs2 even though sunny is already a bit grown so maybe like just disregard canon OR imagine a different timeline i don’t know, and it’s from a place where hal and dave don’t have anything to do after the mgs2 incidents (so no mgs4 and love of god NO accelerated aging i can’t deal with this), and there is this atmosphere of… “we’ve been sticking together for so long, i can’t see ourselves just parting ways (plus we have a kid to raise and i can’t imagine raising her alone) so how about we make the rest of our lives together” and dave is just like… “hey, we’ve been running all across the country, jumping from shitty motel to shitty motel to shittier apartments, and i have this cabin i once lived in, how about we just all move into it and re-inhabit it” and that’s just how it starts.
THE CABIN
it’s a cabin i have extensively thought about (because i’m obsessed with cabins and being a hermit, so that helps). it’d be near the shore of the Twin Lakes, Alaska (taken from the canon fact that this is where snake lived pre-MGS1), so they’d live off-the-grid and in almost-self-sufficiency (they become more and more self-sufficient as time goes on and they make more adjustments to the cabin).
i imagine it would look similar to Proenneke’s cabin (which incidentally is also near Twin Lakes), maybe on the other shore, all wood with a vegetation/moss roof + a slight porch/elevation to protect the entrance from a bit of the snow. it’d be surrounded by wooden little dog kennels/crates for the huskies (more on that later) similar to the ones in [this video] around the 0:59 min mark (warning for animal death/general stuff that goes on in a trapper’s lifestyle for the vid).
it here’s a floor plan of the cabin, not to proportions because i’m just shit at it :
(good luck reading that)
not pictured : when sunny was smaller (before the addition), her bed was like a little shelf just above the big bed (that hal and dave share) with little like “walls” so she doesn’t fall and a thick mattress, which was discarded when she got her new room.
later would be added an outdoor kitchen and a chicken coop (more on that…….. later)
EATING THERE
as i said, they’d first be living in semi-dependency : every ¾ weeks they’d have to go to Port Alsworth/Anchorage or somewhere else to stock tf up. Snake would fish (you can fish for subsistence if you’ve been living in Alaska for over a year according to law) and hunt (seems to be the same type of law when hunting for food, YES i’ve researched this, leave me alone) for food. As he has done odd jobs to afford his cabin, I imagine he’d have done crabbing, and would show up to help on crabbing boats from time to time to get some of them crabs.
later, I imagine they would get 4 rescue hens to get some of them fresh eggs. snake would build a chicken scoop from forest wood. 1 of the hens wouldn’t be able to make eggs because she was traumatized from the industry but they still took her in because she was close friends with the other hens and they didn’t want to separate them.
I imagine Snake had been growing his own herbs in the kitchen but maybe they’d get a greenhouse ready.
they’d go foraging for berries, fruits and mushrooms according to the seasons and make a SHITTON of jams and preserves.
LIVING THERE
i imagine there would be a lot of solidarity with the surrounding populations. for exemple, Hal would help set up and manage online dictionaries for Iñupiat, Yup'ik or Alutiiq languages with the local communities, maybe help wire up some schools, things like that, and as thanks some people would go check on them and give em veggies or something.
THE DOGS :
Snake is getting them.
since we don’t know what happened to his huskies around mgs1, i suppose/guess they were at some time confiscated from him, so first, he’s get a lovely husky female from a shelter (i also have long thought about how he’d never go to a breeder and only adopt, because the whole “creature created with a man’s ideal in mind” hits a bit too close for him you feel) that would later be revealed as pregnant with like 5 puppies (it will come back later as relevant as promise). Then he’d do his best to regain contact with his huskies, maybe setting up a call on social media (THIS WILL BE PART OF A BRAIN ROTTING DEGENERACY I WILL EXPAND ON IN A MINUTE) to find them again. i imagined he would get to see one of his old huskies, who has well aged, who was adopted by some nice nice people. then said nice people, after his visit, insisting on him getting his husky back because “since you left she hasn’t been herself, she refused to eat. we think she misses you too much. we love her tons and it breaks our heart to let her go, but we think she would be so much happier by your side” type of deal, i’m fucking crying just thinking about it.
of course, once his team is back in shape, he’s run the Iditarod again. Hed keep contact with hal over walkietalkie during the race. hal would jump in his arms when he crosses the finish line, the pic would circulate in the news. it’d be cute i’m saying.
THE HENS :
as I said, adopted, in a little scoop snake built himself. they give eggs. sometimes they let them roam free and they bully hal when he peels vegetables (i’ve drawn smth about this). sunny feeds them in the mornings. things are good.
MORNING ROUTINE :
Snake wakes up around 5AM because he don’t need no sleep and goes to his huskies. feeds them. then make them run. when he gets back around 8 to 8:30, hal is still asleep. snake makes breakfast. the scents wake hal up. things are good.
SUNNY?
Sunny is taught by snake how to chop wood. he makes a tiny axe for her tiny hands. he and hal teach her how to swim in the Twin Lakes. the waters cold but she grows immune to it, strong and stronger. she learns how to differenciate which mushrooms and berries are edible.
they try to send her to school but she’s WAY too advanced and is bored to death. she stays at home. she’s outside all day or she learns astrophysics with Hal, who’s taking online classes in his free time. she learns some Athabaskan languages at a community class once in a while, she makes some friends.
HOW’S THE WEATHER
They go on hikes a lot. Often, and long ones. At first, sunny is in a little baby back carrier (i have drawn about this), then she walks just right. Alaska has gorgeous national parks, they explore them, year after year. They arrive in a town, exhausted and beat, they find a hotel room. It has a bathtub and warm water. Hal is OVERJOYED.
in the earliest hints of spring, snake takes them to Fairbanks through the beautiful alaskan railroad. they see the most beautiful and powerful of northern lights during the full season. hal and sunny can’t tear their eyes from the skies.
THIS IS WHERE I GO CRAZY GO STUPID.
ok…. so bear with me.
i mentioned an internet/social media presence.
it’s because in a deviation of this daydream, snake has a little youtube channel (and an instagram to go with it).
it’s not much. it’s really not, but hal has a few cameras and more that he finds and fixes.
it’s mostly lowkey, chill vlogs. stuff like
“slow alaskan winter day (no talking)”
“sprintime berry picking ( + jams recipes!)”
“alaskan summer outdoor fire cookout ( + wild moose and caribou near the lake)”
“denali national park hike (day 1)”
stuff that like you know. as well as some more…
“i ran the iditarod (and won)”
“we got hens (building a chicken scoop, meeting the rescue hens and more)”
“musher’s morning routine (i’d recommend you didn’t try this at home if you are not the genetically engineered clone of a super-soldier, for your sake)”
and as you guessed…
“so our rescue husky was pregnant… (i’m an idiot who didn’t notice, trip to the vet, building a whelping pen, whelping, bottlefeeding tiny pup + all the puppies’ pictures!)”
where dave would teach hal how to bottlefeed a puppy and you’d be able to hear hal’s “oh god oh god oh god oh god”s from out of frame as the camera focuses on dave’s hands holding his to have him perfectly cup the puppy in his palm and carry the bottle. this type of deal.
then follow-up videos of the puppies climbing the bed where hal is, playing on his gameboy. he chuckles nervously and then heartily when a puppy licks his face.
some winter days, the videos have snake bringing all the huskies in the small cabin. some of them sit calmly on the wide bed where hal studies his astrophysics.
and an instagram with wilderness pictures… all except a few taken by hal. some of snake posing in front of the snowed in cabin. some of warm drinks made on winter days. you know the deal.
and they’d have such a nice… positive… lowkey and easy-going comment section. dave would reply to a lot of them.
he’d get quite a share of “hey man, i love your vids so much, thank you for posting this content. i was wondering, sorry if it’s a bit too personal, are you and your roommate dating? you two seem very close, but i don’t want to assume anything 😅 absolutely love your content either way, you’re the only youtuber i have notifs on” to which he’d reply “thank you so much, really appreciate it. and we’re not, we’ve just known each other for a long, long time. we’re aware two straight guys raising a child and living together isolated makes for a bit of confusion, but it’s totally platonic between us. thanks for sticking around.” but one day he uploads a vid that’s like
“crabbing in juneau ! + life update (please read description)”
and the desc + the first 20 seconds of the vid is a text superimposed over embarassing pictures of hal and it reads “hey all / quick personal update, i’ll make it quick / otacon and i realized we loved each other / (as more than friends that is) / so if we seem just a bit closer in the videos from now on this is why / no idea how this is going to turn out for up / but yeah. if he seems a bit more affectionate it’s because we’re dating now, or something like that / and to everyone whom i told ‘it’s just strictly platonic between us’: / well. ha ha. whoops. / anyway thank you for reading / enjoy the video” and all the comments would be like “that’s so dope i’m so happy for you” and other “tbf we saw that coming” and snake would smash that like button on these comments.
and he’d have a video of the whole iditarod race as taken from a camera on his jacket/on his sled… and he’d have videos of him filming hal film the landscape through the window of the train during their trip to fairbanks… and of hal and sunny in said train sharing a tangerine… and of him building a little axe for sunny…. and he’d always ask her if she is okay with being on camera, and when she’d say no he’d make sure she doesn’t appear on here or add a cute husky sticker on her face so she’s not seen.
just lowkey. chill. upbeat. simple life moments. he’d disappear off the internet for a month because he’s just enjoying the life and when he’d come back everyone would be very understanding and glad to see some cool pictures or vids. you know? just chilling. just chilling. just living.
one day before a “hiking through lake clark national park” he has the same little life update thing and it goes “hey / so otacon and i got married / sunny and aksinya [rescued pregant husky] were our flower girls / otacon cried / i cried / anyway, enjoy the video” over pictures of the tiny alaskan wedding. and it’s well.
#anonymous#long post /#I MEAN IT#ok. god.#otasune#jupiter family#its it it's just that. bro.#ring ring (answers)#neigh (blabbers)#GOD FUCKING STUPID GO FUCKING CRACKHEADY.......#it's. it's that basically. long enough. i think i have more but i can't bro. not tonite.#alaskan living au
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