#I am uh. Not Fine :)

[cowardlykrow]

"That is where you are wrong, my boy!"

@ratb4stard3 and I deliver another Cowardlyghostbro's(™) collab ✨💛

[chickenoptyrx]

I am once again drawin the most mundane shit :D

These are all sento saiyans, an AU race of saiyans created by @bahnloopi read more about em here :U

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

so i've had a lil fic idea floating in my head for a bit. it's fun to think about!

[ghostmartyr]

From his opening note, Jean is considered the everyman of Attack on Titan. He isn't special. His parents are inconsequential. He's here to get a cushy job in the interior and not have to worry about death knocking down his door or any of the other inconveniences that plague the masses. That's the dream, and he comes very close to living it.

Only death doesn't stop knocking just because his door is a little further down. Death is everywhere. That's instrumental to the growth of so many of these characters. Death is everywhere. What, then, is your response?

Getting the hell out, fuck this place, fuck dying for anything other than your own interests.

Some characters embrace death and its oblivion. Bertolt finds calm when he stops struggling against his oppressors and accepts being their weapon. Reiner longs for it, terribly, but he can't leaves his dependents behind.

Jean doesn't want to die.

Death is everywhere.

Jean's decision to become a member of the Survey Corps is not a triumphant claim of his principles, it's a dawning horror that this is the world as it stands -- unless there's a change. There is only one branch that is willing to fight for the change.

Jean is willing to die for that change. He doesn't want to. He doesn't want to fight this war. He doesn't want to be in the line of fire, he doesn't want to be eaten alive. Why should he? Why can't other people just deal with it?

Because everyone wants someone else to deal with it. Everyone would rather be alive. The world isn't kind enough to respect that.

Yet. Jean joins up praying for that yet.

And he lives.

[imthursdaysyme]

I think Itd be funny if Steve accidentally became obsessed with puzzles but won't admit it the same way dads watch shows by standing off to the side. robin has them out and he complains but she finds him 2hrs later still standing doing puzzles and he's like a caught raccoon

[bluepallilworld]

A Tear's Soul

Part 1: All is certainly well in this fine world

Mimosa barely had the time to register what was happening before he was warped elsewhere by his happy-go-lucky friend. 

He was used to Lint’s instantaneous portals with how often he had been ambushed but the sensation never failed to be truly bizarre.

It felt like dipping your toes in lukewarm water then suddenly you were drenched and dry at the same time. And in a random place you did not ask to go.

The instant the shock runned out of his system, Mimosa whirled around and hit Lint’s head with the side of his hand.

“LINT, COME ON! Couldn’t this at least wait after breakfast? I’m hungry…”

Lint’s only reaction was to giggle so hard she toppled down on the wooden floor.

“Where would be the fun in that? If you really wanted that breakfast, you should have woken up earlier!”

“...You would just have come even earlier if I did that, wouldn’t you?”

She smiled and stood up, whistling and buzzing around.

The kid sighed and started looking around.

Where were they?

The floor was wooden and a little dusty, the walls were pretty bare except for some weird unrecognizable knick-knacks on shelves. The room was small.

“Whom closet did you zap us in?”

Lint tsked and wiggled her finger in front of his face.

“You’re really”, she pointed to a big dent in a wall, “not a good detective, uh?” 

Mimosa stared hard at the dent. It looked a bit like a puppy’s face? It reminded him of when they played hide-and-seek with Mu’s at her second home and he just rammed his elbow so hard into a wall it damaged the wall. It didn't hurt but it left its mark on the house.

Wait.

He gasped at the realization.

“SINCE WHEN CAN YOU POP DIRECTLY INTO TODDH’S POCKET DIMENSION?!! I thought you couldn’t go farther than the entrance?”

He shook his friend hard in his barely contained excitation.

They were at Mu’s!!!

“Well, it took me a few tries. I’m not sure I’m welcome alone here anymore by the way?”

“Why did you teleport us here? I thought you’d wanted to go exploring or somethin?”

“...You told me you missed Mu and she wouldn’t come back for at least another week sooo.”

Mimosa hugged her. He did indeed miss his younger sister but he didn’t think it was that obvious.

“Eh, couldn’t have my best friend slash “half-brother-from-another-multiverse” mopping, now?”

He buried his head into her shoulder while she rubbed his back.

“We should get out of this closet and go look for your little princess, don’t you think?”

He nodded and pushed away the other to get to the door handle. He didn’t get that far as the girl shoved him away and opened the door first.

She runned out all while shouting:

“THE LAST ONE TO FIND HER IS WET NOODLE!”

And as he, for sure, didn’t want to be a wet noodle, the boy dashed at his turn and they raced through the long corridor, crashing into furniture and laughing their heads off.

Sadly, he tripped on one of his treacherous tentacles (a fairly common occurrence) and tumbled down quite fast with a yelp. His “friend” just snickered at his misfortune and disappeared behind a corner.

Aw, he didn’t want to be the wet noodle…

He plopped down against the floor, starfish-style, and examined his surroundings. He was still in a corridor. That house had too much of those. 

He craned his skull around to examine the few doors he could see from this angle.

Among the very unremarkable doors, one stood out. It was white with flowers painted all over it. The skill of the painting varied a lot and those near the bottom were merely child scribbles.

The skeleton propped himself on his elbows and stared at the door, right-sided.

It was Mu’s room.

Maybe the pasta fate would not befall on him in the end?

The slats creaked despite his best attempts to be sneaky and he cracked the door open a smidge before peeking inside.

A small skeleton was sitting there, playing on the ground with a hoop. Quiet, she was making it roll harshly against the floor until it hit the wall and got launched back at her. She then caught it with the tentacle wrapped cozily around her throat and shoulders and began the process anew.

There she was.

He readied himself to call her when a weight on his head startled him.

“FOUND HER! I WON!”, shouted Lint from above.

How did she even do that, she was slightly smaller than him! That thought was one of the many that went through his mind as she leaped over leaning on his shoulders.

Back to the ground.

Mu looked at them for a second, nodded, then went back to her game, unbothered.

Lint danced, chanting “wet noodle, wet noodle”, looking rather pleased.

He weakly protested that he found her first to which he got the counter argument; he didn't announce it first so that was null and void.

Fair.

They spent some time together, each doing their very own stuff.

Lint was trying to improve her cartwheels (with various success) all while chittering about some story he half-listened to, she tried to coax them into leaving for an adventure a few times but didn’t insist for once so she kept doing clumsy cartwheels.

Mu continued her game, focused on it, Mimosa ignored the action's goal but she was fully entranced by it (despite glancing in his direction a few times, probably wondering about what he was doing).

He was cutting paper shapes with scissors and gluing those to pins he found in a box. 

Once he was satisfied with the amount of paper shapes, he tapped gently on Mu’s shoulder to get her attention. She turned around and tilted her head before eyeing a notebook laying on the ground next to her.

“You don’t have to use your book if you don’t feel like it, I won’t ask complex questions.”

His mute sister nodded and gave him her whole attention.

He pointed at his work.

“Would you like it if I put some of these on your hat to keep company to your flower pin?”

Her eyelights grew two sizes before he even finished his sentence, she stuck her hands in the pockets on each extremity of the drooping bunny ears of her dark colored hat and excitedly moved up her arms, showing the paws design sewed on that side of the pockets.

“I’ll take that for a yes!”

Mu nodded so hard her hat would have flipped away if her hands weren’t still stuffed in.

He pointed to the paper shapes and asked her to point to the ones she’d like most.

She didn’t hesitate and picked anything vaguely flower shaped plus one that looked like a lemon (or an eye?). When he interrogated her on that choice, she just uncurled her tentacle, revealing the rest of her face and smiled.

“Ok, ok, sit there and don’t move.”

He started to stick the paper bits as carefully as he could and Lint joined him on the task soon after.

They did that for a moment, he had to stop Mu from wiggling too much a few times as she grew impatient and excited.

Once they were done and confident it would hold for long enough to be satisfying, they released the small monster and she all but ran to the mirror.

Watching her twirl around in joy released a special wave of warmth in his soul. Those moments reminded him how lucky he was to still have her, how lucky he was that Fancy and the one before him found her when she had been lost and how lucky they had been to be reunited during an unplanned playtrip. 

He saw Lint watching him thoughtful in the corner of his eyes but he didn’t call her out on that.

However, when she turned her gaze back toward the mirror anew and her eyelights shrieked to almost pinpoints.

Uh?

He turned his head to discover an absence of any twirling sister and shot up.

“Where?”

Something poked his shoulder.

Lint was in front of him.

He turned around.

Nothing.

Lint was glaring at random corners.

Poc.

He looked to his left then more thoroughly to his right.

Then he was promptly yoinked from the ground by something above.

“AH-”

A hand stopped his shout and he looked at his aggressor’s face.

…Nip. 

The dark-boned-mixed-rabbit-skeleton grinned at him and made a sign to keep quiet. He reluctantly nodded and fred his mouth. 

Nipal was a strange fellow that liked far too much scaring others in his opinion, but it came with the fact he had been born from a bad dream he guessed.

Other than that, he was pretty okay.

And also holding him with a leg while crouched on all four on the ceiling.

Nip giggled silently and he watched Lint getting more and more agitated on the ground.

She was looking everywhere for them and despite glancing up a few times, Nip always moved just in time to hide from her sight.

The demon was talented in this stuff.

Nip moved towards a wall and put him on the top of a closet using only one floating hand. Mu was already waiting there and looked absolutely giddy at the event.

Nip went back to tormenting Lint and one of the puffy ends of his bunny ears almost smacked him when he turned.

Hm. Mimosa got himself comfy to admire the chaos. 

He shrugged.

That might as well happen.

Nip played for another five minutes at pocking the distraught girl running around on the floor before leaping behind her, shifting his form to a huge furry rabbit monster and caught her from behind in a hug.

Lint screamed bloody murder and Mu drew a line in her notebook. He peeked at the page… 15 was scribbled next to a vaguely bunny shaped scribble and a bit fat zero next to three bows. It looked like she had been keeping score.

He giggled. Hopefully Lint won’t see that.

This one was now hitting and biting the smug adult -to be confirmed, Nip always lied when they asked his age. 

After a bit of shifting and a whole lot of being picked up and scaling things for no reason, they all finally ended up all sitting in the center of the room.

Nipal Twees, once again in his more regular shape, clapped his hands together.

“That was amusing, how are you guys doing?”

He did not wait for their answer as he wiggled his left ear, distracting little Mu that was sitting on his lap.

“Now, kids, Toddh went out to get Fancy. Boy is taking a bit long to bring back groceries.”

Where was he going with that?

“...Kitchen’s free, who wanna bake? Badly of course!”

They answered their agreement, loudly. 

What a good idea, he was famished.

And like that, they made a beeline for the kitchen and promptly started to try baking… something…

They didn’t have any recipe and Fancy’s cookbook was creepy so they boycotted that idea.

Each busied themselves with a task they thought would help making… something?

The result was barely palatable and the kitchen was very close to what someone would consider “ruined”. 

He would not talk about the general state of their outfits. The aprons they put on had been near useless in keeping the mess at bay.

They made a game of trying to eat the biggest part without making faces. Nip was quickly banned from playing as he was unbothered by the taste and even claimed to enjoy it.

The sound of keys in a door made them all freeze.

Toddh was back.

annnnd that's the end of part one 🎶

*******************************************************

Shine, Malignance, Bow/Butterfly and Calligraphy (mentioned) belong to @creative-firebug <3

The rest is mine owu

Tagging as requested: @shinechermont

(if someone desires to be tagged in the other parts, tell me (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) )

👉👈tagging @zu-is-here because the whole idea of that project was born because of a discussion I had with her (no I'm not telling what it was about) (zuz tell me if you want me to tag you in the other parts or not :D)

bonus:

I thought it'd be fun to put a link to the first time I put Mimosa in a comic (almost 4 years ago), I have evolved a bit

[voidcat]

characters: you/imaushi wakasa, sano shinichiro...

a/n: angst lol. strangers to friends. themes of fwb but nothing explicit. switch of perspective. mcd obviously,,

as i said in this post the loose explanatio/beginning of an idea i had that i liked ALOT but couldnt write due to various reasons (esp lck of time) (open post for a lil further stuff for reader x wakasa ig,,,)

attending the same classes as shinichiro sano... you've heard of him alright but that's about it. a nice face to look at perhaps but a little odd. not someone you'd interact with occasionally, nor someone you'd remember in particular-

until you're paired with him for an assignment. it'll help build bonds between the lot of you! the teacher announces and everyone groans in unision

you shoot your new partner to be a look from where you stand and turn back to your notebook. the ring bells but by the time you can get up adn gather your stuff, sano is nowhere to be seen

it takes you hours to find him. and at possibily one of the worst times too.

you heard of the rumors about fights and deliquents but you didn't expect yourself to run into one. youre careful, you live a peaceful life, you avoid trouble, always keep a clean name and all-

the people around all battered and beaten up, covered in bruises, cuts and maybe blood, looking hungry, unsatisfied, maddened– and you're in the center of it all.

footsteps approach you, strong, stern, taking their time and all- you hold it in you to not turn for a look. wait for them to show their face at your feet, dont give them the satisfaction nor even the slightest sign of weakness.

a man with blond hair and a pretty face, long lashes and all, stands before you, looking almost a little amused. "what's a pretty little thing doin' here all by themselv-" "where's sano" you cut him midsentence.

the man looks baffled, a little offensed even. soon joined by a second figure a lot taller than him, they both look at you with hostility and a hint of curiosity.

who cares, you scoff internally, whatever intimidation they're going for, you won't fall for it.

the other man raises a brow at the way you've mentioned sano. shit, you do hope this was not the wrong place, or whatever fight went down there, they must've won... right?

"and who is asking?" the blond speaks up again, sounding a little annoyed now. "you know, we don't allow passes to every pretty thi-" "eeeew" you drag the word and scretch like a gum, making sure to put on a face. "none of your business actually." you add on, placing your hand against a hip.

"why, you-" before he can follow up with whatever's on his tongue, a jolly greeting from behind interrupts him, cutting through the air. you can notice how the idle folks around suddenly tense up, and for the two man before you, shoulders dropped, bodies relaxing...

soon sano emerges, with his hair put up and stylized, nothing like the man in your class, a deliquent out of a shitty teen's magazine you'd say so.

exhanging greets with the two men and doing a special handshake for only them to know, he looks in the mood, just his face a little bruised up and some blood on his clothes.

so that's probably why he skips school some days, you muse.

he notices you a little later.

"oh!" mouth formed into an 'o' shape, you can see his surprise written all over but he is quick to disperse all that." greeting you with your surname formally, he reaches out a hand, then brings it up upon noticing the splatters of blood and takes it back with a sheepish smile.

"what brings you there?" he asks, never losing a bit of his joy that contradicts the entire atmosphere.

"our assignment." you say curtly and receive another sound of surprise from him. he looks apolegitic at the very least, you think.

"well.. uh-" he scratches the back of his head, casting a glance around, you wait to see where the stammering will go.

"how would you wanna do it then?" he asks more for you than himself, to ease you probably, you can only assume.

another joins their little group, keeping silent and watching what's going on. you relly, really should get going, you decide after giving a quick look around. "we can go over the details at an appropirate time later."

"alright then!" he says, never missing a beat from his energy. it's unbelievable, you think. "should we... ah-" he pauses, "exchange numbers to keep in touch then?" he asks, and he means well, you can tell just from the way he looks and talks, but the rest? you're not exactly dying to say out loud your contact information. especially not with that blond anywhere within a 20 meter radius.

"here." you say, reaching out your hand to reveal your phone. "i'm not announcing my number for a bunch of weirdo, self proclaimed deliquents to hear."

your words take him by shock but he breaks into a snort right after. the two men exchange a glance and a thug at their lips as well. the blond however does not look once pleased with your words.

or you at all.

you begin to come and go to their place often, the assignment builds up slow but steady and the guys seem reasonable enough after actually sitting down and hearing each other out. shin looks happy with the development too, says you have brought a change but you'd disagree. he is the light and sun and the beating heart of this place and wherever he goes, they follow, absolute devotion and belief in him, as a person, for his mind and for his heart.

you can see why, you can feel it too. once you begin to spend your time with shinichiro sano, all the rumors and speculations you've heard up until then are gone. assignment be damned, you can tell when a friendship begins to bloom and with shin- it happens at such a pace, you find yourself a little afraid.

the assignment ends, presentation and all, with flying colors you pass and decide to celebrate it out, with the rest joining as well.

a karaoke bar is all fun and games until night rolls out. it has gotten late but shin offers to walk you home; keizo and takeumi dragging a very drunk and messed up wakasa. everyone bids one another goodbye- save for wakasa... and you almost believe youhave seen a hint of sadness in their eyes as they bump their fists against yours. if you didn't know any better, you'd ever go as far as to say they'll miss you around.

a day passes, another and another... much to their relief and encouragement, you stick around.

not within the vicinity on the days big fights go around but definitely dropping by to hang out, fool around and whatnot. it's now your laughter mixed with shin's that fills the air, and everyone seems joyful and happy most of the time- save for imaushi wakasa.

for reasons unbeknowst to you, he remains hostile, rude, and on and up about sending your way stupid lines like he did the first time. most of the time you ignore him, which annoys him further– the scene alone brings a smile to your lips, the smirk of a vixen, you even overhear him once, yelling to keizo about you are, sounding very much frustrated.

despite this is how the things begin and roll out, neither of you expect to grow close- closer than you'd have imagined.

yes, you and shin might be the sunshines, but you and wakasa? the two of you become inseperable. you even hear some people mumble how they fear the two of you looking down at them, gazes that burn holes through their skulls, see into their souls... the two of you could make a power couple- if you were one at all.

there is the heat, there is the tension. you comb through his hair with a gentle touch that has wakasa melting in your hold, yet the second someone dares to imply anything more, you shoot them a glance so heavy, it'd crash their lungs.

wakasa hopes, in the end, that perhaps there is an end to it that is happy, that is hopeful. he knows there is no making up for the way he treated you but you were not the kindest toward him either, so it makes you equals, no?

so he sings sappy songs at karaoke whilst tipsy, so any accusation he can brush off as the effect of the booze, but hopes you caught how he looked at you. so he touches you as soft as you do him, trying to mimic your kindness, an attempt at how love, in the physical, in action should be.

he doesn't know any better, why should he? why should anyone to begin with?

it scares him how natural it is for shin and you. some days he finds himself envying the two of you even, would things be any different were you to attend the same school as the two of you? oh what wouldn't he do to be graced with your smiles and giggles all day every day, having you look at him as you rest your cheek against your palm–

he aches for something a tad normal sometimes, at the very least with you. would the two of you ever cross paths were it not for shin? the thought scares him and he feels like an asshole for envying his friend like this, desperate for anything that would come from your hands.

but at the end of the day, it is himself you seek out. his arms that you allow around your person, his lips on you, devoring you, it's wakasa that consumes you wholly and the thought brings a wave of comfort at the very least.

then the entire world collapses down in the span of 24 hours.

shinichiro dies.

almost 24 hours have passed since his death and wakasa still cannot find it in him to return to reality yet.

then like an angel amidst the chaos, you reemerge from the fog, from smoke. it doesn't take a genius to figure out something is wrong.

"waka," you call out to him, sound laced with something he cannot quite pinpoint. shutting his eyes completely, he sits in the same spot for a moment, all the doubts, every single negative, twisted and fucked up thng he has been holding at bay til now so close to breaking out.

you speak, but he does not hear the words.

not pass the 'i am leaving'

[english-mace]

alright lads due to a Series of Unfortunate Events (I procrastinated too close to the sun) I am now three days deep in a truly terrifying edit marathon-sprint that includes 'you have two days to edit 80,000 words' so uh

wish me luck?

[sysig]

Simon Petrikov is a service top and you can fight me about it (Patreon)

[francy-sketches]

older tommen with short hair bc idk it’s kinda growing on me

[flowercrowngods]

Suggesting/Requesting Eddie having a crush on the valiant knight Steve Dustin goes on about, not realizing it's Steve "the Hair" Harrington and the way he reacts when he realizes they're the same dude. Cue adjustment period.

hi! first of all thank you for the prompt 🥰 i slipped and kinda decided to take your ‘valiant knight Steve’ quite literally and made this a medieval/regency au with knight steve and bard eddie, kinda enemies to lovers. it totally got out of hand, so this is part 1, with all my apologies to your original prompt 🤍🌷

Eddie smiles as the fields and forest that surround Hawkins come into view, kissed by the early afternoon sun with more affection and richness than the city probably deserves. It looks different this time of year, the green seems deeper than he left it, and nostalgia paints him a picture of glory and welcome that would make any traveller linger at the sight. 

He knows it’s only the magic of coming home, the thrill of having been gone so long that he needs to learn his town a-new, and the curiosity of a poet that makes his heart beat faster; but it’s his life’s blood to embrace all of that. So he spurs on his trusty horse to make it home even just a minute sooner. 

The people’s reactions to his arrival come in multitudes, though Eddie can respect the healthy dose of mistrust with which they regard him. He has made a name for himself after all, a bard more than a jester these days, but most people don’t tend to forget the pretty face they chased out of the city on multiple occasions. 

He lifts his head in greeting as he passes the elderly Wheelers as they’re tending to the flowers lining their windows, and grins with glee at both the disapproving scoff and the wary nod he gets in return. 

He’s in good spirits. Great spirits, in fact, the sun shining down on him, welcoming him and lighting familiar paths for him to tread again after years of absence. Hawkins will see his glory, his success, his victory, and it will pale in jealousy and regret. They cannot chase him away this time, not with the title of royal bard and winner of the bardic competition three years in a row. 

If his travels have taught him anything, it’s that he is pettiness acts as a wonderful motivation.

Of course, he shall also see his friends again. One of his saddlebags is half full with their letters that have accumulated over the years, all of which Eddie has kept for reasons of muse and a heart entirely too soft for his own good.

Most of all, though, even more than proving his worth and success to his city and its people, it is curiosity that brings him home. 

Dustin and his friends have been mentioning a most valiant knight, waxing poetic about his glorious deeds and his kinder heart — or, as poetic as they get, which is hardly at all. Which consequently made Eddie write no less than five ballads about the stories they told him, three of which have made it into songs yet, one of which he was made to play in every tavern on his long journey back to Hawkins and to Princess Nancy herself on more than one occasion.

The Knightmærs, as he calls his little collection of poeterey, his pride and joy about a man he has yet to meet. Tales about maidens saved and brothers defeated, hearts stolen and retrieved with the gentlest gestures, and children protected against the evils of night, expecting naught but friendship. And friendship he got. 

If Eddie’s heart picks up yet another notch at the thought of meeting this knight as the familiar city walls tower before him, he allows it for a second before announcing himself to the guards. They looked wary upon his approach and blanch now as they hear his name; Eddie does not hide his laughter this time and preens as he is told to ride on. 

“Oh, Hawkins, old friend,” he mutters under his breath, not even bothering to hide his smile. “You and I shall have so much fun, shan’t we?” 

~*~

He barely makes it to the home he has been sharing with his uncle since the ripe age of twelve with minimal fuss, unsaddling his horse and guiding her to the trough, when he hears it. 

“Eddie!”

Halting in his motions the currycomb, he looks up from the rusty brown that shines red like embers in the sun and spots Dustin racing down the street towards him. 

He lowers the comb and steps around his horse, grinning at his rapidly approaching friend. 

“Why, good day to you, young traveller, what brings you to my humble abode?” 

Dustin doesn’t falter in his approach, doesn’t even slow down, and Eddie braces himself for impact. Years of experience have made him quite practiced in handling tackle-hugs, but Dustin has grown quite a bit since he last saw him, and they both stumble backwards when Dustin’s arms wrap around Eddie in a way that seems to press all air out of his lungs. Eddie laughs as he hugs his friend back with as much ferocity. 

“I’ve missed you! I was writing to you this morning when I remembered you said you’d come this week. I didn’t think it would be today!” 

“I came as soon as I could. Such is the Munson way, or did you forget?” 

Dustin shakes his head and finally lets go, though Eddie yearns for another hug. It’s been too long. The boy has grown. He’s hardly a boy anymore, though he shall always remain as such in Eddie’s heart. He smiles and ruffles Dustin’s locks, realising with a pang that they’re almost of a height now. 

An ache like homesickness settles in his gut and wears on his heart heavily. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, smoothing out the curls he’s put in disarray. “It’s just been too long. And I’ve missed you, too. You’ve grown quite a bit since last we talked.” 

“I have!” And he looks so proud of it, too, preening a little under Eddie’s faux scrutiny, and it’s what makes him pull Dustin against his chest again. 

Eddie continues taking care of his horse, feeding her, combing through her mane, making sure she has as much comfort as he can provide after their long days of travel. Dustin sits on the fence and watches him tend to her, feeding her the occasional apple when he thinks Eddie isn’t looking. He hides his smile and pretends not to see. 

God, but he has missed his friend. 

Their twosomeness is rudely and entirely too quickly interrupted by Lord Harrington of all people, who hurries down the street in search of Dustin. 

Eddie never did like the lord and his pompous appearance coupled with his rude personality. He always acted like a prince among men, subject to many a jest in Eddie’s younger days. On one memorable occasion, Eddie managed to steal the lord’s clothes and swap them with his own, making him walk about in linen rags and torn-up trousers. 

Days later, all of his lute strings ripped just as he was getting ready to play at the tavern, and he never messed with Harrington again — even though there was a parcel three days later with new lute strings and his old clothes he had made the lord wear. No note attached to it, because Lords didn’t stoop down to converse with lowly peasants even for revenge. 

So, seeing Harrington now on the very first day of his being back, it sours Eddie’s face and his humour. 

“Why, Lord Harrington,” he speaks before the man can get a word in. “To what do I owe the displeasure of seeing you here? Have you suffered a fall from grace yet, or was it a hit in the head that left you disoriented, bringing you to my humble abode?” 

Harrington frowns at him, though Eddie deems to detect confusion more than distaste. 

And then he has the audacity of not even answering to Eddie’s ruse, simply ignoring him and instead turning around to Dustin. 

“Dustin, Master Clarke is expecting you. I will not cover for you once more.” 

“But—“ 

“Spare me,” Harrington says, hands on his hips now, and Eddie is starting to feel defensive over Dustin. How dare his lordship come and steal his best friend away when he hasn’t even been home for an hour yet? 

Before he can get so much as a word in, however, Dustin is already jumping from his perch on the fence and trudging towards Harrington, rounding the man and leading the way up the hill towards the castle. 

“I’ll come back later, Eddie,” Dustin says over his shoulder, and then he is gone, rounded the corner, out of his sight. 

Harrington, however, lingers. Eddie raises his eyebrows in question and challenge, and the Lord scoffs a little. It’s like he wants to say something — but what could it be? What could Lord Harrington have to say to him, years after they last saw each other? 

He does look stunning, Eddie has to admit with a grudge against his self and his integrity. The golden light of the afternoon sun catches in his hair, likening it to strands of gold that kings and queens pay alchemists across the world to procure. Eddie, for a moment, feels like he has found it in Lord Harrington’s hair and the skin of his face, but he quickly snaps out of it, cutting off that particular train of thought before it can run away form him. 

“I hear you are a bard of great renown these days.” 

The words catch him off his guard, for Eddie was sure that the Lord would not attempt to converse. Yet it seems that propriety still has a tight grip on him. 

Does Harrington like his ballads, his plays, his poetry and sonnets? Has he heard them? Or has he heard of them? Has word travelled across the countries, telling of Eddie the Bard and his brave-hearted muse his soul yearns for and his quill bleeds for?

Eddie is not sure which option thrills him more, but whichever one it is, it makes him smile, feeling quite bashful and yet proud. 

“So you hear,” he says, approaching the stiff Lord. “What exactly is it that you hear, my Lord?” 

He swallows, following Eddie’s steps with his eyes, turning his head when the bard circles him slowly. “I hear you sing of beasts slain and brothers banished, a knight at the heart of your ballads.” Eddie smiles at that, knowing that Harrington has at least heard of two of his Knightmærs. I hear it sounds like mockery, the knight but an object of your hyperbolic fascination and flowery imagination, his pain and bravery nothing to you.” 

He stops dead in his tracks, his feet planted right before Harrington. The Lord looks like he is taking personal offence to his works, and it irritates the bard. 

“And what, Lord Harrington, would you know of fascination, pain and bravery? I cannot imagine you have faced a lot of hardship in your life, and the only acts of bravery you had to chance upon were mislead in the name of false honour.” 

“False honour,” Harrington repeats, his words like poison, sharp and dangerous as the sword’s blade at his hip. “You would know something about that, I imagine, telling stories of which you have no idea. Immortalising glory where there should be sympathy.” 

Eddie studies him, the frown between his brows, the hard line of his jaw, set and calmed to keep more words from spilling. Imposing, this Lord is. A sight for sore eyes even in his  purely misplaced anger. 

Eddie huffs, his eyes travelling between the Lord’s where they are standing so impossibly close. 

“Sympathy,” he repeats. “Nobody, my Lord, wants a ballad of sympathy. It is glory that the people seek!” He steps back from Harrington, gesturing with his arms as he dramatically recounts the lessons he has learned over the years, passionate for his craft. “Glory, heroism, heartbreak and love! Yearning and longing and deeds of an aching heart, that is what the people want to hear. That is what deserves to be immortalised in art, in poetry, in song! I shall forgive you for being so painfully unaware of this, my Lord, but I shall not stand to be in your company much longer, calling my work lacking or a mockery when it is borne out of nothing but loyalty, fascination and love.” 

They are close again, because Harrington did not step back when Eddie approached him once more, his feet planted like a tree, fierce and strong and unbudging. 

It is intoxicating, though Eddie blames half of it on the passion and the rage, on the bravery that possessed him to send the Lord away, or the fierceness with which he came to his muse’s defence. 

Harrington swallows again, his eyes wandering over Eddie’s face once more, lingering at his lips, both their jaws set in determination and perhaps a sudden tension.  

“Forgive me for insulting you with my company,” he speaks at last, his voice nothing but a rasp. “You will find there is an irony to your words soon. I shall not rob you of that discovery. I ask you do not take it out on our mutual friends when you do, Munson.” 

And with one last glance, Harrington turns on his heel and hurries up the hill, too, leaving Eddie puzzled and quite dazed upon the lingering warmth of their close proximity. 

When did Harrington become so handsome? There was a fire in his eyes that Eddie got to witness for just the blink of an eye, but he wonders where that comes from, what it means, and what other secrets he holds. 

Perhaps, if he cannot meet his muse, the knight Dustin has only ever referred to as Steve, Harrington might serve to inspire a ballad or two himself.

~*~

Harrington catches his eyes on more than one occasion over the next days. Eddie is invited to the castle to play for Princess Chrissy, though she greets him like an old friend and makes him sit close to her at the banquet. Right beside Harrington, who merely nods at Eddie, his fists clenched as Chrissy asks the bard about one of his ballads — the one about the valiant knight slaying a horde of monsters to keep the kingdom’s children safe. 

The Lord must really hate Eddie’s work. It fills him with spiteful glee, for some reason, and he makes sure to play and recite all of his Knightmærs that night. Harrington excuses himself when Eddie hasn’t even made it halfway through his songs, and he doesn’t return that night. 

He takes personal offence now and vows to make the Lord’s life as difficult as he can. 

But still there is no sign of Steve. 

Eddie is starting to get frustrated. 

He was supposed to be here, stand tall and proud with a smile on his face upon seeing Eddie, sweep him off his feet, make him swoon, dare Eddie to fall in love with the face long after the name. 

His mood is sour, and only sours further when Harrington rounds the corner and stumbles upon Eddie who is tuning his lute for tonight’s banquet. The annual royal tournament is set for the next morning, so everyone is in a good mood. 

Well, everyone except Eddie. And Lord Harrington, by the look on his face. 

“Munson,” he says, straightening before he bows his head in greeting. “Forgive me, I was looking for some quiet. I shall look somewhere else.” 

And, somehow, that is enough to snap his patience that was already wearing thin. “Why can you not stand being in my presence, sir?” he asks, rising from his seat. “Does it disgust you so to be around mere peasants?” 

Harrington looks taken aback, shock and confusion clear on his face before a frown takes its place and washes away all further emotions. 

“It is not your presence that bothers me, nor the nature of your birth.”

“And yet you leave every time I so much as strum a tune, Lord Harrington, ready to throw both caution and propriety to the winds. Leaving me to wonder what it is that I have done to deserve such treatment.” 

Eddie finds himself walking closer and closer to the Lord, coming to a stop not one foot before him. He is drawn in by his presence, his charm as alluring as his cold silence. Everything about Lord Harrington intrigues him, horrified as he is to admit it. But with Steve not around to catch his eye and captivate his heart and mind alike, he simply has to find inspiration elsewhere. 

And the way Harrington’s face is taken over by a dangerous expression is the most inspiring, alluring thing he has seen in a while, even though it is directed at him. 

“How can you have the audacity to feign confusion over my disdain, bard,” he hisses, and Eddie shivers slightly. Harrington does not even have the sense to step back, staying right where he is, so close, so improper. “How can you pretend it is not my life you have taken and made your own, singing songs and telling stories, making into nothing but a jaunty tale recited by drunkards with no regard to the blood it was written in.” 

Eddie blinks, not quite catching up with the point Harrington is making. 

“What—“ 

“You sing your ballads, your histories, your Knightmærs like you know what they mean. Making a mockery of me, stealing from me every chance to tell my tale in my own voice, in my own tempo. Entire kingdoms will know before I will have had the chance to wake up from a nightmare, and they sing about it, sing about pain they did not have the misfortune to suffer, sing with a smile, with booming voices because you make them. And yet the only one without a voice remains the one who slew the beast.” 

Lord Harrington speaks to him as though he takes offence at the content of Eddie’s ballads, offence at the reality of their background. But what right does he have to take offence when his songs are based on heroic deeds, recounted to him first hand by his very best friend. What right does Harrington have to question the truth behind them? 

“If it is a matter of truth that concerns you, let me reassure you, my Lord, that all of my ballads are based on true events. I ask that you do not call me a liar, no matter how great your dislike of my craft.” 

“It is not a liar that I call you, but rather a thief.” 

Eddie gasps, offended now. “What do you suggest I have stolen, then?” 

“A person’s right to their own story. To their own nightmares. A man's right to flee from the horrors he lived through, acquainting every tavern in this kingdom and the next with his horrific and desperate deeds.” 

“How dare you call his deeds horrific,” Eddie hisses now, feeling protective over his knight. “How dare you accuse me of ill intent when every word out of my quill is written with nothing but love and admiration.” 

“For whom?” Harrington challenges, disdainful and cold. “Only for yourself, your vanity, your overgrown sense of artistic ambition.”

“No,” he shakes his head, hands clenched into fists as he finds himself incredibly close to Lord Harrington, their faces only inches apart now. “It is love for this person I have never met, whom my dear friend has told me about. A man who has kept me awake at night as I was pouring over letter after letter, hoping he should be well. It is a love so strong it has to be turned into art, into song, love that should be sung in every voice of the kingdom.” He scoffs, stepping back to catch his breath. “I do not expect you to know such a love when all you have in your cold heart is disdain for all things beautiful. You would never know bravery if it looked you in the face, you would never know love if it was the very fabric that makes this world. It would slip through your fingers, my Lord, for you would be busy yearning for the day your life found its meaning.” 

He is seething, heaving breaths, out of control over the words tumbling out of his mouth. Insulted in his pride and his muse, offended, hurt. Confused, still, as to why the Lord hates his songs with such vigour. 

“Is that your opinion of me?” Harrington whispers, though even in that toneless voice of his lies so much that Eddie cannot begin to decipher. 

“Yes,” he whispers back, the fight leaving him now, the very air sucked out of the room they share. “I believe I made that clear just now.” 

Harrington takes one step closer once more, but Eddie does not budge. 

“Then I suggest you forget that knight of yours,” he says, quiet and final. “And forget the idea you have of love. To love someone is not to turn his nightmares into song. To love someone is not to look him in the eye and insult his very existence even further. You love yourself, your craft, your mind. But you do not love him. You would not recognise him if he shared the same breath as you.” 

Eddie huffs, just barely able to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “And what makes you so sure of that, Lord Harrington?” 

A smile twitches his lips, though there is no mirth, no glee. “You have just proven it to me, Mr Munson.” He takes a step back and evades Eddie’s eyes. “I believe you should return to the fest now. Good night.” 

And with that, he turns around and leaves. 

Eddie finds himself rooted to the ground, air returning to the room now but still he is unable to catch his breath, staring ahead as he is. 

Words echo in his mind as the picture paints itself and a horrible, horrible realisation dawns on him. 

You will find there is an irony to your words soon. 

How can you pretend it is not my life you have taken and made your own?

But you do not love him. You would not recognise him if he shared the same breath as you.

You have just proven it to me, Mr Munson.

But… There is no way. There is no way that Dustin’s friend, Dustin’s knight and protector, his saviour, Steve, should be the same as Lord Harrington with his careful, quiet, disdainfully quirked eyebrow. 

Except, Lord Harrington collected Dustin from Eddie’s home, speaking with him in a tone filled with such familiarity, they cannot be mistaken as anything but friends. 

And Lord Harrington had listened with such rapt attention when Eddie played his jaunty tunes and the well-known classics at the banquet days ago, looking like he enjoyed Eddie’s play. His face had only soured when people started requesting his newer original songs, his fists clenched upon the opening chords of The Knight and His Nightmare, leaving the hall altogether when people requested more. 

You sing your ballads, your histories, your Knightmærs like you know what they mean. 

Eddie’s heart falls when he realises what he has done. How blind he was to the frowns and the tension, how deaf to the hints and insinuations, how ignorant he was of the pain he inflicted on Lord Harrington. Lord Steven Harrington. Steve. 

His Steve. And yet not his at all.

He falls back onto the bench, dazed, as the weight of his realisation settles inside his chest. 

onwards to part 2

[jin-zixun]

OK I need to just appreciate the boost in confidence my boy has post-timeskip like. The little smirk at the Lans while just straight up calling them out. Not even responding to WWX's inane shit talking here, just running interference like a very good boy.

Like I...

Just immediately spinning the situation against WWX, it's great. How much of this is planned? I don't know. He walks into frame like he's the hero of the day right after JGY's "et tu Er-Ge" moment on the stairs.

As he should! He is the hero of the day! And the hero of every day! If you're JGY I guess, from now on at least.

[fastianini]

Valentino Rossi & Marc Márquez

all i need—radiohead

[theflowerofthecommonwealth]

Power Armor Punch Part Sixty Eight

Masterlist

Teshteal: *hides behind Gardio suddenly, sniffing the air to see if this person's friend or foe*

Gardio: *not sure why he's hiding suddenly since he knows the smaller man can easily kill a horde of super mutants*

Joyce: (Immediately notices and turns to face Teshteal, worry on her face) “Teshteal….?”

Donovan: (To the crew member) “Safe trip?” (Extends his hand for a handshake)

Crew Member: (Grips Donny’s arm with hers, flashing a friendly smile) “The waters got a little rough, but it wasn’t anything we couldn’t handle.” (Gestures behind her at the rest of the crew members who are starting to unload) “We’ve got everything on the list- along with some gifts from friends.”

Donovan: (Begins walking closer to the boat) “Is that so?”

Teshteal: *eyeing up and down the crew member. So far he smells the sea and the typical smell of gun powder that many a caravan person has. Hisses* Gifts? *listening and sniffing for anything that could be a bomb or a trojan crate*

Gardio: *notices Joyce's concerned look and extends a reassuring hand* He's likely on guard because it's a new person... *To crew member after adjusting his hat* Mind if I and my associate inspect the crates?

Lucille: *quietly blinks into the water as the lullaby ends, not sure how to handle her now relaxed and still state*

Ma: (Softly, like a mother speaking to her downhearted child) “Something on your mind, love?”

Lucille: Just not used to being this relaxed. *shrugs*

Ma: (Grabs some conditioner and a comb) “Is that so? You’re on the road a lot I take it?”

Joyce: (Inches closer to Teshteal, holding out her hand to him) “It’s okay- they are good friends of ours….” (Glances back at the boat) “Really good friends….”

Crew Member: (So confused about the glowing ghoul and the strange hissy gremlin behind him) “Uh…..” (Turns to Donny with wide eyes)

Donovan: (Shrugs his shoulders) “I mean…. It ain’t like they're hiding anything.” (Gestures at the crew members who are beginning to unload the boat onto the dock) “We’ve known these guys all their lives- their parents and even grandparents too.”

Boat Captain: (Waves to Donny from the top of the deck)

Donovan: (Smiles and waves back) “Yo Trenton! Ya didn’t happen to pack a bomb on the boat, hm?”

Trenton: (Shakes his head) “And hurt dear old Mama Evie? You think I’m trying to get my head to be served on a platter?”

Goats: (Bleat from inside the boat as if confirming the captains words)

Lucille: *nods* Very. I have settlements to maintain- *tenses up, remembering all the work she has to do on quite a few settlements* I need to get back to work soon-

Ma: (Frowns slightly hearing that) “Honey, remember what I said about slowing down to give yourself time?”

Teshteal: *slowly eases out from behind the large glowing one detective with extreme caution*

Gardio: *to the crew* If you say so. *still watching warily like the gargoyle he is*

Joyce: (Reaches to take her boyfriends hand, looking between both him and Gardio) “….Is something wrong?”

Crew Member: (Still looking at Donny nervously as she rushes to follow him) “Protective much?” (Gestures at the two newcomers who seems extra wary and cautious) “Are they…..?”

Donovan: (Shakes his head as he takes a crate from a crew member that hands it to him) “Nah, but you guys didn’t hire anyone new- right?”

Crew Member: (Also shakes her head) “Nope. Some old sea dogs as it’s always been.”

Donovan: “Good.” (Motions with his chin to a spot on the ground) “Just leave the crates and boxes there- and I’ll bring ‘em inside. You know how Ma likes everything organized.”

Crew Member: “You’re sure Donny…? We can help with the sorting?”

Donovan: (Remembering Jasmine and how jumpy she is) “Nawh- I’ve got it. Besides, don’t you guys have other places to be?”

Teshteal: New people. I need to be careful that they aren't vault operatives or that I don't hurt innocent people.

Gardio: *to Teshteal* They seem like decent people-

Teshteal: *shakes his head* Not just that, I sense... something off out here. Hard to place right now. *tail twitches anxiously*

Lucille: *quietly* This isn't enough time...?

Ma: (Smiles sadly down at her, gently squeezing her hand that she never let go of) “No my dear- three days is not enough for what you went through and neither is one soothing bath.”

Lucille: That's what worked in the past. I don't see why it doesn't work now. *shrugs*

Joyce: (Looks around at the people helping with unloading the cargo) “But what’s wrong about this?”

Trenton: (Comes out with a small bundle- too small to be a baby but it’s some sort of little creature) “Joyce? Sweetheart- look who’s here.”

Joyce: (Eyes widen as she begins to approach the boat captain instead, carefully taking the bundle from him)

Donovan: (Stopped helping with unloading the crates just to watch, smiling at his little sister)

Joyce: (Squeals with excitement as she beams down at the little bundle) “Ohhhhhhh!!!! She’s adorable!!!”

Teshteal: *ears perk up and and curiosity gets the best of him so he carefully approaches Joyce to see what... or rather who she's holding. He completely forgot her question already*

Joyce: (Beams up at her boyfriend, leaning towards him to show her little bundle of joy)

The Bundle: (Contains the tiny wiggly form of a baby panda ferret who’s no older than eight weeks old)

Joyce: (Squeals as she coos down at the little noodle, scratching under its chin) “Isn’t she just the cutest!?!?”

Trenton: (Smiles at Joyce and backs off to talk with Donovan, his face getting slightly more serious)

Ma: (Tenderly as she pets Lucille’s hair) “Oh honey- that ain’t a good way to function. It is like I said before- you’re human and it’s not fair to treat yourself as less. You need rest, for both your mental and physical health.”

Lucille: That's lovely and all but I have people who depend on me. They need supplies- Defenses! I can't just lay around for a week when they're waiting on materials that could very well save their lives!

Ma: (Raises a brow at this) “Huh, If I didn’t know any better I would say you sound like you’re raising a bunch of orphaned children. Are that weak and helpless? Isn’t there someone else who can give them a hand? You’re just one person, sweetheart. You can’t do it all.” (Fearful that Lucille will crumble again under more pressure)

Teshteal: *eyes go big- as large as saucers- at the teeny little panda noodle. He resists the urge to pick her up and lifts her up above his head in awe* A little baby panoodle...! *cupping both sides of his face, trying to contain his joy. He forgets about his apprehension completely thanks to the precious little ferret*

Joyce: “Panoodle!!!!!” (Looks like she’s attempting to contain her joy just as much as Teshteal, giving a bunch of little kisses down to her new baby)

Pirate: (Running and jumping around to greet everyone as if they were old friends, tail wagging like crazy)

Trenton: (Beckons Donovan to follow him while Joyce is distracted, picking up a crate of food that is meant to go inside)

Donovan: (Gives one quick look to his little sister as he also picks up a crate to carry inside, following the captain) “What’s up?”

Trenton: “I’ve got something for ya….”

Lucille: *purses her lips in thought and goes silent in thought for a moment. Quietly* Who's going to build the defenses...? The walls...? No one else does it but me... *head spins as she begins to spiral from how much the Commonwealth depends on solely her*

Ma: (Squeezes Lucille’s hand again as even more worry floods her face) “My sweet…..” (Gently cups Lucille’s cheek with her other hand to try and get her attention before she loses the young woman) “Lucille, look at me please.”

Lucille: ... *looks up ever so slightly, her mismatched eyes trying to focus on Ma despite her spiraling thoughts on all the responsibility thrown on her*

Ma: (Gently strokes Lucille’s cheek with her thumb, her face soft and comforting) “Are you with me, sweetie?”

Teshteal: *cooing at the tiny panda noodle. Doesn't believe he's seen anything so cute in his life*

Joyce: (Moves to huddle in closer to her boyfriend again so he can get a better look at the little wiggly gal) “She’s so little!!!” (Slightly holds the bundle out so Teshteal can hold the baby if he wants)

Donovan: “Good or bad?”

Trenton: “Wish I could say good news- but sadly it ain’t…..”

Donovan: (Feels a weight of dread and exhaustion build up in his chest at that) “Oh…..”

Teshteal: *takes the baby panoodle into his arms and gently nuzzles her soft fur with his nose* So soft and sweet! *stops for a moment, admiring the adorable ball of fluff* What are you going to name her?

Joyce: (Proudly) “Gertie!!! She’s from the same mother as Gilbert!!!”

Gertie: (Gives a very tiny lick on the gremlins nose, her little paws poking out of the swaddle she’s in)

Donovan: (Sets the crate down on the kitchen counter, walking over to check on the slowly simmering pot of broth)

Trenton: (Looks like he’s dreading to bare whatever news he has to the ghoul)

Jasmine: (Whimpers ever so slightly in her sleep, also feeling a heavy load start to weigh down on her shoulders and ropes snag at her ankles- trying to pull her down in her dreams once more….. But she can also feel something else…. Something she can’t quit put her finger on…. But it’s present)

Teshteal: *giggles at the tiny ferret kiss* Awe! He's got a little sister now! *gently holds one of her tiny paws in his fingers* Wook at her wittle hands!

Joyce: (Practically shining brighter than the sun itself) “She’s so stinking cute that imma die!!!”

Gertie: (Looking between the two squealers curiously, so confused on what’s going on)

Crew Members: (Keep unloading all the goods and eventually they stroll on out with a half dozen or so sheep and goats with their young, the creatures bleating as the clamor along)

Jasmine: (Attempts to free herself from the chains that are tying and pulling her down as she feels the crushing weight of the world on bare down on her shoulders- partly recognizing that she’s dreaming and her troubles are manifesting themselves into it. She struggles for a bit, tears forming on her waterline and she’s about to scream with frustration but then she feels like what seems to be a gentle kiss on her head from behind and she freezes- hearing a low hum in the distance of her dreamworld)

Teshteal: *blinks for a moment, tail twitching upward when he realizes something. Whispers* I think we might be scaring her with all our cooing. *to the baby ferret as quietly as he possibly can* Sorry.

Joyce: (Hums lowly as her emerald eyes widen) “Ooops…..” (Reaches out to gently stroke her new baby’s face again) “Sorry Gertie….”

Gertie: (Also licks Joyce’s fingers with her tiny tongue when she can)

Lucille: Trying to be... *thoughts race on what settlement still needs what resource and how many turrets she needs to assign to another and so on...* Hard to stop when it's all you've been able to think about for the last year and a half....

Ma: (Softly) “And you do it all completely on your own? For over a year and a half now?”

Lucille: *nods grimly* No one helps...

Ma: (Heart just about snaps all over again and she has half a mind to go down to these settlements and give them an earful because poor Lucille seems to have enough trouble as it is) “It really is no wonder that you’re so overworked. But I’m sure we can work something out that doesn’t involve you trudging all around to try and fix everyone’s problems.”

Jasmine: (Her hands that were once firmly clasping Nicks shirt start to move a bit to grope behind him despise nothing being there) “Mhmmm……”

Dogmeat: (Sniffs the girl when she does this, whining softly)

Jasmine: (Eyes sparkle in her dream world as the humming gets closer and it’s unmistakeable of what it is to her) “Mamá…..” (And just like that- the weight starts to get lifted off her shoulders and her ties start to become undone)

Nick: *to dogmeat calmly* I see it, boy. Problem is- I don't want to wake her. *senses the presence himself, though for him it's more like an unknown source of heat or warmth other than the sun*

Gardio: *observing from the distance. From the sound of things, the goods involve livestock and he doesn't want to risk contaminating them with his radiation*

Teshteal: *gentle smile, or as gentle as it can be with his sharp teeth at Gertie*

Lucille: Good luck getting people to listen... If it's not farming or guard duty or some other slightly menial task, then it's all on me to keep up these places.

Ma: (Huffs slightly when she hears that) “Well that sounds to me plain unfair on your side. They cannot really expect one woman to help now can they?”

Gertie: (Licks her nose as she gazes up between Joyce and Teshteal, seemingly unbothered by Teshteal appearance since he’s friendly)

Joyce: (Nose scrunches slightly) “I think Gilbert isn’t going to be too happy- he’s spoiled that way.”

Jasmine: (Shakes off her remaining shackles in her dream and looks around with wide kitten eyes) “Mamá!!!!” (She listens for the humming, but it sounds like it’s coming from all directions so she picks one and starts running) “Mami!!!!!” (She feels another soft breath and kiss on the back of her neck this time as she runs- fueling her determination. She misses her mother so damn much….)

Dogmeat: (Noses his way on in closer to the teen as she continues to try and grab something behind Nick while kicking her feet)

Nick: Oh- Hold on, doll... *wraps his arms around her to keep her from knocking the both of them off of the lounge chair and starts rubbing her back to soothe her excitement*

Teshteal: *quiet huff* What is Gilbert to do? She'll have to live in the same house. *emphatically raises his hands, as if performing a fool in a play shrugging off a joke or a jab*

Joyce: (Giggles at Teshteal, squeezing Gertie’s bundle slightly) “You’re right. He’ll have to grow to love his little sister. Besides- I’m sure she smells like their mother.” (Sniffs the little noodle to confirm her thoughts- Gertie smelling exactly like baby Gilbert when she first got him)

Lucille: *shrugs in defeat* Apparently, they can... Doesn't matter. I like building-

Ma: (Shakes her head in disapproval at these people as she mutters something under her breath, tapping the bottom of Lucille’s chin) “I’m sure you do honey- but too much strain on one person will cause them to crumble. So no- they can’t be asking you to do everything for them. You have your own life to manage too.”

Jasmine: (Somewhat feels Nicks gentle rubs in her sleep, but she cannot really contain herself as she feels the softest of touches caress the side of her face and she runs even faster towards a bright beacon of light in the distance. Behind her she can almost hear and feels her troubles calling out to her, but the light is driving it all away for her) “Mamá!!!”

Nick: *confused- she's usually only this active in her sleep when she's having a nightmare and yet, she doesn't seem distressed*

Teshteal: *sniffs* She does smell kind of similar to the little guy...

Gardio: *still still as a statue. One would assume he is one*

Joyce: (Takes in a deep inhale of Gertie, rocking back and forth happily) “Baby ferret smell!!!”

Lucille: *mutters quietly* What life... I had a life before the war and now what? I blew up the institute- but that's all I'll ever be known for.... *splashes the water in a fit of frustration* The one who obliterated the boogeyman of the commonwealth while graciously giving homes to those who need them.

Ma: “Correct me if I am wrong- but I believe that ‘your life’ consists of the same people who helped talk you out of ending it so soon and have taken care of you.” (Tenderly rakes her fingers through Lucille’s purple hair) “They make up your life and you make up theirs in turn. That is what family is. You take care of one another and watch each others hearts and wellbeing.”

Lucille: *eyes sting with tears. She tries to hide it by averting her gaze. She doesn't know if she has the strength to return the favor to the people who do care... And now she wonders if she's failed each and every one of them, now*

Jasmine: (Hums along with the song the voice of her mother is singing- recognizing it immediately as one of the many lullabies she’d sing. It twists her heartstrings a bit, but she cannot help the smile on her face) “Mami….” (She stops running but doesn’t stop squirming to escape in real life, closing her eyes to bask in the warmth she’s feeling throughout her body)

Nick: *still holding his squirming daughter as still as he can. He keeps petting her back to comfort her*

Ma: (Smiles kindly down at the young woman) “You know- people often ask me why I do what I do. Why I devote everything I am to being a caretaker and mother when I seemingly get little in return for walking sometime walking into a blaze that could leave me with less than what I had before. What they don’t understand is that I do get something in return each and every time. I get the irreplaceable joy of seeing my babies and loved ones flourish and glow over time even in the tiniest ways. That will fill me up more than gold and glory ever wil even if it’s in the tiniest of ways like a simple glitter in their eyes in the morning at breakfast or the peaceful look on their face as they sleep in comfort.” (Gently taps the bottom of Lucille’s chin once more before she moves her hand up to tuck her short hair behind her ears even if there isn’t much to do so) “That’s what any good parent wants from their kid. I can say that your father is no different. And if I end up with taking a hard loss or a couple of hits, well then so be it. Love is the sacrifices we make for each other anyways. And if you’re wondering what you’re sacrificing here for this love- it’s that little piece of you that you keep trying to hide away from everyone. That little piece of you that’s human, tired and just wants peace and rest. Yes, that piece of you that you think is unwanted and not worth it is still precious because it’s a part of you, my love.”

Teshteal: *eyes sparkle at how loving his girlfriend is over this small creature*

Joyce: (Bounces and pats her little bundle of joy- then glances back at the house) “I wonder how we should play this out with Gilbert….”

Jasmine: (Mumbling hoarsely as she paws midair) “Mamá…. Come back…. Please….” (Kicks her feet a bit harder) “Lo siento Mami, lo mucho siento. Por favor….. Don’t leave me alone- you know I hate it….”

Translation: “I’m sorry Mommy, I’m very sorry. Please.”

Dogmeat: (Sniffles the squirming girl some more with big puppy eyes of confusion and concern because she’s making strange sounds)

The Voice: (Whispers ever so softly and comfortingly into the broken teens ear, wrapping her up in a hug of warmth and security) “Chiquilla bonita. Llegaste del cielo en un tren del amor. Tu alegre sonrisa. Me enseña en la vida, el camino mejor….”

Translation: “Pretty girly. You arrived from heaven on a train of love. You’re happy smile. It teaches me the better things in life.”

Jasmine: (Feels her heart both flood with overwhelming joy and crack into a million little pieces when she registers that- having not understood why her mother had been so adamant on singing that song to her during her prewar days…. But now it’s just becoming clear. She has to find her mother- she has to say sorry) “I’m sorry Mamá…..” (She hugs her dream self tightly and rocks back and forth on her feet, taking a couple of slow steps to follow the voice but once again it’s coming from all directions)

Nick: *whispers* What's going on in that pretty little head of yours...?

Teshteal: Hrm... Slowly? Like a cat?

Gardio: *nods*

Lucille: *lips tremble before burying her face in her hands. She wishes she COULD rest but the consequences of that feel too great*

Ma: (Softly) “Whatcha thinking about, my sweet?” (Gently allows her hand to rest on Lucille’s shoulder, looking on at the young woman with concern and understanding)

Lucille: *voice cracks as she cries into her hands* I... I can't just drop everything to rest-! I can't- There's so much I need to do- people could die without me- *sobs, deep down wanting to rest but it seems like an impossible task*

Joyce: (Glances between Gardio and Teshteal) “I suppose so- but knowing my little stinker he’ll come running the moment he senses someone else taking up my attention then throw a tantrum.”

Teshteal: So then we show him immediately-!

Gardio: Carefully-

Teshteal: We carefully show him immediately! *Beaming from ear to ear*

Jasmine: (Mewls like a lost kitten looking for their mother because she essentially is, her dream self wandering aimlessly through an empty field to find a dead woman whom she swears she can feel in her heart and hear in the distance. She smiles despite being lost- because she knows that her mother is close by and wouldn’t allow anyone to lay a finger on her child) “Where are you?”

Lucille: *voice cracks as she cries into her hands* I... I can't just drop everything to rest-! I can't- There's so much I need to do- people could die without me- *sobs, deep down wanting to rest but it seems like an impossible task*

Ma: “Oh cariño…” (Her mother instincts take ahold and she immediately drops to her knees besides the poor young woman, gently draping her arm around Lucille’s shoulder to pull her into a hug that she can easily pull out of if she desires) “Sssssh, it’s gonna be alright. We’ll figure things out all together. You can only shoulder so much on your own until you crack and crumble- but that’s what your family is here for.”

Teshteal: So then we show him immediately-!

Gardio: Carefully-

Teshteal: We carefully show him immediately! *Beaming from ear to ear*

Joyce: (Turns back to the lighthouse in thought, then back down at the tiny kit once more) “Well- he’s gonna have to at least tolerate her. Hopefully he quickly learns that there’s plenty of love to go around. Plus it’s not good for ferrets to be alone.”

Teshteal: *making kissy faces and baby noises at the baby ferret... his ears pick up a rustling noise in the distance of the woods but the size tells him it might be a wild animal of some kind*

Jasmine: (Suddenly perks upright from Nicks chest as if she was summoned, her hands firmly planted on his shoulders so she can steady herself as her big magical doe eyes scan the area expectingly. They gloss over both Nick and Dogmeat as if they weren’t there- obviously she’s looking for something else) “Mamá…..” (She can still feel the warmth in her heart and the prickle of a ghostly kiss on the back of her head….. But where is her mother?)

Nick: *looks where she is. His sensors pick up a faint impression of... something but it's hard to get a reading. He briefly considers heading to Acadia for calibration if not for Jasmine's behavior. Kindly, out of confusion* What about her, doll?

Lucille: *sobs into the older woman's arms*

Ma: (Locks Lucille into her strong and comforting embrace that many people had sought solace in before) “Sssshh, it’s okay. Just let it all out.”

Jasmine: (Pouts a bit when she can’t find her mother, then she tilts her head at another prickle on her cheek. She then makes grabby hands up in the air while leaning over the side of the chair, almost like she’s trying to leap out of her fathers arms)

Nick: Woah, hold on there... *pulls her back a little, unsure exactly why she's trying to leap out of the seat at nothing. Granted, it seems better than the wild thrashing from before, but it doesn't make him any less concerned about her current behavior*

Gardio: *decides that the two lovebirds should be fine so he walks back to the lighthouse to try and be of some help. He approaches the two men* If there's any cargo that isn't food or livestock to haul in or set up, I'd be willing to help.

Donovan: (Looks frazzled about something but slowly nods his head, a bottle of broth in hand) “Yeah…. Yeah, that would be nice thank you….” (He walks over to the other ghoul, holding out the bottle to him) “Give this to Detective Valentine before you go, please.”

Trenton: (Leaning against the wall, looking down in deep thought, staring Donny’s expression of worry)

Gardio: Will do. *gives an affirming nod then gives Donny a reassuring but heavy pat on the shoulder, giving him just a little radiation as a boost to help ease his frazzled nerves before he heads on up to the roof*

Donovan: (Gives a weak smile at Gardio as he leaves, then sighs heavily)

Joyce: (Goes back to squealing happily over the little one) “Oooooh, she’s too perfect!!! I can’t get enough of her sweet little face!!!”

Gertie: (Gazes up at Teshteal and Joyce, licking her nose some more)

Teshteal: *licks his own nose with his long tongue to mimic Gertie*

Gertie: (Seems fascinated by the two people in front of her, especially by the strange gremlin man mimicking her by licking his own nose)

Joyce: (Giggles some more, this time at her boyfriend) “Ack, you’re cute as well!!!”

Jasmine: (Whines when she’s kept from leaping into the air but she doesn’t seem too upset, just tries to do it again while still making grabby hands at nothing)

Nick: *sighs, knowing if he tries to snap her out of it, she'll just grow more distressed* I can't just let you go- you might hurt yourself... Maybe your mama will come closer to hold you.

Gardio: *walks up the stairs to the roof and raises an eyebrow in confusion at the girl making grabby hands in the air. It's a stark contrast to the screaming and thrashing from before. He very carefully approaches and speaks calmly so he doesn't spook her* I have broth for her.

Teshteal: *turns to her and licks his nose like he's some sort of big cat then makes a tiny chirping noise with his mouth- being the silliest of sillies to make his angel laugh*

Joyce: (Shrieks with laughter at her goofball of a boyfriend, putting a hand over her mouth to try and muffle her laughter that can be heard across the ocean)

Teshteal: *grins at how much that simple noise made her happy* I could gobble her and Gilbert up like a couple of extra big noodles! *Playfully licks his lips*

Jasmine: (Looks over at Gardio when she hears his voice and blinks slowly, then turns to her father, then back to the space up in the area she was looking at) “Mamá….” (She wiggles in her dads arms, patting on his shoulder to try and make her let go, then makes her grabby hands to be picked up by whatever she’s looking at)

Dogmeat: (Whines with confusion, trying to lick the girl)

Gardio: *finally next to the chair. He sets the bottle down next to Nick* Here... Do you think she'll drink it in this state?

Nick: I haven't a clue... *to Jasmine* Hey, kitten. Do you think your Mama would be happy if you drank this broth? *picks up the bottle and holds it up* I think she would. *gently smiling at her*

Jasmine: “Mamá….” (Takes her eyes off the air with a wistful and somber, deep longing look in her eyes, letting her hands rest back on her Dads shoulders as she turns to look at him. She tilts her head to one side, then seems to register that it’s him and she breaks out into a warm smile)

Nick: *smiles just as warmly back, relieved to se that she's isn't suffering for once* It's good to see that smile. Would you like some broth? *Offers it to her once more to see if she'll take it or not*

Gardio: *amazed that the girl looks so at peace. He glances over at the spector she was making grabby hands at a second ago*

Nick: *thinks to himself* So he can see it, too? Well that means it's not a simple calibration issue...

Jasmine: (Softly) “Daddy….” (Gently presses her forehead to his while putting a hand on his cheek, sighing softly, not acknowledging what he’s offering her)

The Object: (Appears to be a misty ball of white light up in the sky, now fading out so it’s almost completely transparent)

Nick: *sighs and sets the bottle down* I suppose not... *Reaches up with his bad hand and strokes her cheek, then attempts to brush a stray hair from her face* Hey, kiddo.

Gardio: *watching as it disappears, wondering what or who that could have been... Whatever it was seemed to have a calming effect on the girl. Quietly he turns to and starts for the stairs* I'm going to help Donny. I promised him that I'd help.

Jasmine: (Hums happily in greeting, sighing as she slinks down to rest her head against Nicks chest, listening to the soothing sounds of his inner workings while the sun shines over them. She’s still tired, like her body is light years away from being fully recharged)

Joyce: “Oooohhh- I so hope they get along well!!! I would love to have a ferret snuggle session!!!”

Teshteal: *looks up and notices Gardio's left* We should... Probably go back. Dio left- *slight panic enters his voice* Why did he leave-?

Joyce: (Looks around) “Hm, I don’t know. Maybe he went to help Donny with the stuff.”

Teshteal: Yeah... *Shaking a little. He can feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end again* I don't feel safe out here, though... Let's head back. *Turns to the lighthouse*

Joyce: (Seems concerned but she follows along) “Errrrrm…. Okay then. But can I ask, why don’t you feel safe?”

Teshteal: *glances at the ship* I don't know those people. I don't know if they're from that hellish place. *Already walking along*

Joyce: (Walks alongside him, confused) “What place? These our Ma and Donny’s friends, they’ve known them for a long time.”

Donovan: (Already putting away some of the stuff he brought in, raising his head when Gardio pokes his head in) “Handed it off?”

Gardio: As good as done. She still seemed sleepy though... *Fully steps into the kitchen* What do you need help with bringing in?

Donovan: (Rubs his forehead for a moment, then starts walking to the door past Gardio) “The stuff with the storage labels go into the basement, the kitchen labels go the kitchen, and the rest into the living room. Mama will sort them out later.”

Jasmine: (Her eyes click up to her father as she rests, lifting a hand to gently touch the side of his neck where there’s a large gash, humming a bit sadly and with concern)

@lucilleandherrobots

[flo-n-flon]

"Do not let Lan follow me. He will try, if he sees me."

[wish-upon-the-universe]

Catch me gripping the universe with my bare hands. What do u mean u listen to intent and follow the spirit of the request to the best of your ability and don't monkey's paw the wording. What are you, kind??