#Long Island Drones

[puppetmaster13u]

Danny Phantom Crossover

Where Amity has been near abandoned for years, untouched and unaged if not for the destruction from long ago, when (GIW, Ecto-Contamination, the Portal, Whatever or Whoever) demolished it.

Of course nowadays it's long forgotten, a city laid to ruin, slipping from the minds of those that left. Until someone finds it again, and finds a place of forgotten dreams, the living dead, and a towering figure cloaked in red with a large needle-esque weapon to their neck.

"Leave now, while you still can, stranger. You won't find anything here. All that lies in this place are ghosts and broken towers."

[pangeen]

undefined

“ Dhigurah “ // © NATIONAL TROPIC  

Music:  thealbor - sped up cover

[kitzani]

made more incorrect quotes

N: Whoa, Uzi, what’s up with that angry face? Uzi: Thad won’t stop talking about how “Ancient Egyptians were furries”. Thad: But they were! Just looks at all their gods- Uzi: Oh my god, SHUT UP!

Nori: Is stabbing someone immoral? Thad: Not if they consent to it. J: Depends on who your stabbing. V: YES??!!?

J: Who would you swipe right for? Thad or N? Nori: I would delete the app.

Uzi, looking over Khan’s shoulder: You can draw? Khan, stopping what they were doing: You can speak?

J: Yeva, you were so wasted last night. Yeva: I wasn't that drunk! J: ...You called a taxi home. Yeva: Yeah! It's called being responsible! J: The party was at your house. Yeva: ...Crap.

N, explaining why they are not allowed to cook: I put the noodles in the pot and put the pot on the stove and turned the burner on high. Turns out you don't put noodles in marijuana and I almost burnt the whole house down.

Nori: *Answers phone.* Hello? J: It's J. Nori: What did they do this time? J: No, it's me, Nori. It's actually me. Nori: What did you do this time?

V, trying to comfort Lizzy: What's the problem? Anxiety? Low self-esteem? Obsessive thoughts of random arson? I've been there.

Doll: You... you saved me. You're not a beast at all. YOU'RE A HERO, AN UGLY UGLY UGLY HERO! Thad: Call me ugly again, and maybe I will eat you.

N: I think Nori is in trouble. J: Alright. Struggling to give a fuck, if I’m honest.

V: You know what your problem is? N: I only have one?

N: Ew. What kind of tea is this? Thad: I boiled gatorade.

J: Consider the fundraising over! Your hero has arrived! V: Uhh… where did you get so much money from, J? J: Well, you know, I’m pretty good at numbers. I just crunched them, I stretched them, I analyzed my accounts, I timed the market- *police sirens start to wail in the background* V: DID YOU ROB A BANK?! J: Oh, come on, V, do you really think so little of me? *opens the bag as purple dye explodes on their face* V: J: …it was a credit union.

Uzi: Is… Is that meant to be on fire? J: No… not really. Uzi: Are you going to do something about it? J: Hm… nah.

Lizzy: I feel like everyone on this island is suspicious, Thad. Except you! Thad: But Lizzy, I think you're suspicious! Lizzy: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Yeva: When I was young, I left a trail of broken hearts like a rockstar. I'm not proud of it. Thad: You're kind of proud of it. You work it into a lot of conversations.

Kidnapper: I have one of your friends. Yeva: Which one? I have seven. Kidnapper: The loud, annoying, rowdy one who never shuts up. Yeva: Which one? I have seven. Thad, distantly: HEY!!!

[theycallme--j]

AUGUST CONTENT 🌻

• the final episode of the summer series films, august birthday diary

•a lil day in the life of a summer school teacher (timestamped, a different style for me)

• my first time seeing the montauk lighthouse, featuring my friend nicky c on his dji avata2 drone

like&subscribe. new content soon💜

[stonecreationslongisland]

Fire Island Lighthouse - Robert Moses State Park by Paul Saladino Via Flickr: Fire Island Lighthouse was an important landmark for transatlantic ships coming into New York Harbor at the turn of the last century. For many European immigrants, the Fire Island Light was their first sight of land upon arrival in America. The first lighthouse built on Fire Island was completed in 1826. It was a 74-foot high, cream-colored, octagonal pyramid made of Connecticut River blue split stone. The tower was built at the end of the island, adjacent to the inlet. This tower was not effective due to its lack of height. It was almost entirely removed and the stone reused to build the terrace for the present lighthouse. Today a circular ring of bricks and stone are all that remain of the original lighthouse. Due to the westward migration of sand along the beach, known as littoral drift, the inlet is now approximately six miles westward of this site. In 1857 Congress appropriated $40,000 for the construction of a new tower, 168 feet tall. It was lit for the first time on November 1, 1858. This tower was made of red brick, painted a creamy yellow color. The tower was changed to the present day-mark of alternating black and white bands in August 1891.

[determinate-negation]

Vigilante violence is at an all-time high in the occupied West Bank. Emboldened by the war in the Gaza Strip and backed by the military, Israeli settlers aiming to annex more and more of the Palestinian territory have launched hundreds of attacks, displacing people from at least 17 communities over the past month, while soldiers and settlers have killed nearly 200.

And at least three New York nonprofit organizations are calling on donors to help outfit those settlers with combat gear, in a fundraising blitz funneling millions of tax-deductible dollars to the West Bank aggression.

By chipping in to a “thermal drone matching campaign,” donors can help the Long Island–based One Israel Fund buy remote-controlled aerial vehicles for settler militias. With a contribution to the American Friends of Ateret Cohanim’s “security projects,” they can equip settlers with accessories for their guns and tools to keep an eye on “Arab thugs” in occupied east Jerusalem. Donating to the Brooklyn-based Hebron Fund’s “Israel Is Under Attack” campaign helps expand one of Israel’s most extensive local surveillance networks. If New Yorkers contribute by the end of the year, they can write it off on their 2023 tax returns.

Since the Oct. 7 Hamas attack, which killed around 1,200 Israelis, the New York–based nonprofits have raised millions for tactical equipment for settlers across the West Bank. The organizations—right-wing groups dedicated to Jewish rule over the Holy Land—work directly with the Israeli military and with the settlements, which are illegal under international law.

“The ties between New York state and war crimes being carried out by Israeli settlers are egregious,” said Jay Saper, a New York–based organizer with Jewish Voice for Peace. “It’s long overdue for the state to take action.”

[sunniepoo]

love island!jj and reader making out in the bed cause they’re (horny) obsessed with each other

he’s rubbing on her ass and sucking on her neck and titties she’s running her hands through his hair trying to stay quiet !

𓂃𑁍 ࣪˖ 🐇

the villa was typically quiet deep in the night,the sound of snoring and soft breathing filling the air rather than the usual sounds of lips colliding against each other or yells laced with anger or endless acclamations of love. it was the one moment of peace for the islanders admist all the heat and stress brought by the rising sun

so speaking, what you and jj should have been doing there was laying there, savouring the minutes of rest you can get before being forced awake by the bright lights, shining into your eyes. but how could you? how could you drift to sleep when the troublesome blonde next to you insisted on providing some relief to your aching tits, which you mentioned about to him earlier in the day

“c’mon you said you wanted me to help” the blonde argues, ignoring the endless protests from you droning on about ‘how it’s too late, and what if someone woke up’

“they won’t wake up-“ he begins already knowing that he was gonna get his way as he watched your body ease and relax against him “as long as you keep it down kay’ gorgeous” finishing his sentence with a quick kiss to the side of your cheek before lifting your silk top up and burying his face in your chest, hands kneading the fat of your tits

“jaaaayy” the moan that left your mouth was almost inaudible, but jj was all eyes and ears for the sight in front of him, seeing you squirm at just a few soft kisses to your aching boobs

“remember baby quiet” he reminds you before pulling softly at your nipple before sucking the nub, tongue swirling around it. the action had you burying your face in his hair, hands entangled between the ruffled blonde hair on his head “fuck- jay- feels so good” you babble into the tops of his head, words coming out all mumbled and a lot more pathetic than you expected

it was a short while after when the blonde finally had pulled your top down, mumbling sweet nothings in between each kiss he places on your lips, and as you looked into the light blue in his eyes - you’d decided that it was him or nothing

𓂃𑁍 ࣪˖ 🐇

[wanderer-six]

Late Night

AN: this tweet changed my life I could not stop thinking about this i needed to write this i need you all to b thinking about this too

Relationships: Hunter x Fem!Jedi Reader

Summary: You and Hunter have been together for years now, living out a happy life on Pabu. You're spending the night together, and time has done nothing to quell your desires.

WARNINGS: unprotected p in v, orgasm denial, edging (it's ok he can take it), old man hunter im dedd 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 2k I did not proofread this apologies in advance if it's bad I hope u can at least get behind the Vibes u feel me

It’s another beautiful night on Pabu. The sun set over the island hours ago, and the moon now bathes the ocean in shimmering silver. As the day wound down, so too did the residents; the paths that bustle by day are all but empty now as everyone settles in for a peaceful night.

All around the island, there is quiet. The only sounds you hear now are the gentle drone of the waves, and his heavy breathing.

Like all the others, you and Hunter retired to your bungalow, but rest is far from your minds. In the dark of your bedroom, you and him are bare, chasing off any chill from the evening air with each other’s warmth. Hunter, the man you’ve loved for a lifetime, is beneath you now. You balance your hands on his broad shoulders, riding him slowly, wonderfully, biting your lip as he meets your gaze with weary eyes. 

Even after all these years, making love to him still feels as amazing as it did the very first night you shared together. Each roll of your hips fills you with more of him, and you can’t help but whimper when he hits every spot you love. It seems he hasn’t had his fill of you, either. Though time has had its effects on Hunter, it certainly hasn’t changed the way he yearns for you. Even now, he hangs on your every movement, his vigilant eyes darting between your pleasured expressions and your hips taking his cock.

Deciding he’s gotten a little too comfortable, you descend onto his length at a different angle, allowing him to reach deeper than before. At the sudden sensation, a groan catches in his chest. Between his labored breaths, he chuckles.

“You feel so fucking good, cyar’ika…” 

Humming through a smile, you rest your forehead on his.

“You’re one to talk, handsome…” Your fingers trail through his hair, still just as long as when you first met, but having faded to grey some time ago. “I can’t get enough of you.”

That confident, effortless smirk tugs at his lips. You’ve seen it a thousand times, yet each time he wears it, heat still rises beneath your cheeks.

“Heh… is that so?” Though his once defined, sharp muscles have softened from years of respite on the island, he still feels as strong as ever when he grips at your hips. “I guess time hasn’t gotten the best of me in every way…”

At this, it’s your turn to grin. You know it’s been a few long years since the two of you last saw combat; with the clones’ advanced aging, those years have counted double for him. But even if you’re older than you once were, you know you still have plenty of time left.

And it’s when Hunter starts to pretend as though he’s moments from death’s door that you like to remind him what he’s still capable of.

Without warning, you melt against Hunter, draping your arms over his shoulders and crashing your lips onto his. His tongue dances with yours, and as his arms hold you flush against him by your waist, you begin to roll your hips more quickly. You move faster, harder, riding him for all he’s worth. You revel in every little noise he makes, the way his eyes flutter shut in pure bliss. His fingers tense, clinging to your hips so desperately as to leave bruises.

In the Force, you feel how close he is. How near he is to losing himself fully in you…

… and right before he hits his peak, you lift yourself off of him, robbing him of the only thing he craves in that moment.

Hunter utters a groan, wincing through the torment of his denied release. He leans his head back against the wall, and you can feel his heart kicking fast against his chest.

“F-Fuck…” he hisses through gritted teeth.

Despite his anguish, you can only grin. You lean forward, lavishing him with gentle kisses as he settles down.

“Easy, Sergeant,” you sing. “I’m not done with you yet.”

As you kneel over him, he dares to glance between your legs. You’re so tantalizingly close to his aching length, and though his desperation is clear on his face, he knows better than to think you’ll be so generous. Utterly helpless, he shakes his head. 

“I’m too old for you to be teasing me like this…” he mutters, a weak smile tugging at his lips. You roll your eyes at his self-admonishment.

“Oh, enough…” With a deep exhale, you rest your forehead against his, and your eyes fall shut as you bask in the feeling of him. For every experience you’ve had in every corner of the galaxy, nothing compares to having Hunter all to yourself. “I know you can handle it, even if we may not be young anymore…”

Though he’s clearly just as lost in your attentions, this remark has him prop an eye open to sneer at you.

“‘We’?” he repeats with a chuckle. Sighing, he runs his rough hands up the curves of your waist. “You’ve still got your whole life ahead of you—even if you’re wasting it torturing an old clone like me…”

Your eyes warm, and you bite your lip. With a dangerous twist of your hips, you grind against him, earning a deep grumble from Hunter’s chest. Your lips linger by his ear.

“I think I know my Hunter by now…” you purr, voice low enough to make him shiver, “and if there’s one thing he likes, it’s a challenge.”

Without a word of warning, you lower yourself back onto his cock, taking him deep inside as you begin riding him again. Hunter goes rigid, fumbling for purchase against your hips as they overwhelm him with pleasure. Nothing could ever thrill you more than the way he touches you. For as long as you’ve been together, he’s known exactly how to make your body sing for him. Even now, a desperate mess beneath you, his hands run along your skin purely by instinct.

And luckily, you know his body just as well.

Again, you fuck him harder. Again, you feel the tension in his core, the white-hot release building inside of him…

Again, you stop just short, lifting off of him right before he can come.

Your poor sergeant whines again, his head lolling back as his eyes pinch shut. Between your legs, his cock throbs, twitching in desperate need for the stimulation you’ve so cruelly deprived him of. 

“A-ah…!” Between his heavy breaths, chest rising and falling arduously, he moans in complaint. “You’re… fuck, you’re driving me crazy…”

While he grovels in such a sorry state, you’re no worse for wear at all. You place kiss after languid kiss up his neck, tickling his skin with your breath.

“I can keep this up all night, handsome…” Pulling away just enough to catch his eye, you don a mischievous grin. “I think you can, too.”

 In the face of your taunting, Hunter surprises you when his smile softens. He cups your face with a trembling hand, running his thumb gently along your cheek. You lean into his touch, admittedly falling victim to his sudden tenderness.

“Tell me…” he asks, “what’s it gonna take for you to let me off, huh?”

You giggle, leaning forward to nuzzle your nose against his.

“Hm… I don’t know,” you sigh, playing coy. “I think you might just be too old to manage what I have in mind…~”

With a chuckle, he pinches your cheek. “Try me.”

Pulling away just enough to meet his eyes, you flash him a charming grin.

“Tell me you love me.”

Through his lust-filled gaze, Hunter raises an eyebrow above a half-smirk.

“What… that’s all?”

You nod. “Mm-hm. That is… if you think you can handle—”

You’re cut off when Hunter’s lips catch yours, meeting you in a kiss so deep you nearly feel like you’re drowning. His tongue toys with yours, so desperate to taste you it makes heat flood beneath your cheeks. Still, you can’t help but smile against him. Though Hunter likes to act as though he’s old and grey, now, you know he’s far from gone. In moments like these, you feel the fire that’s burned inside him since the very beginning. It hasn’t faded in the slightest. You know it never will.

When he finally pulls away, he doesn’t stray far, lips ghosting over yours as he holds your gaze with intense eyes.

“I love you, cyar’ika,” he breathes, a solemn swear. “Always have… always will.”

For the first time that night, it seems you’re the one on the backfoot. Eyes wide and innocent, you’re touched by the sincerity of his words. You know Hunter, know that he does everything to the fullest. But hearing for certain that his passion would be yours for as long as you both have left… your heart can scarcely take it.

With sudden desperation, you press your lips to his, and you bury his cock in your warmth. He moans into your mouth, and you moan back, losing yourself to the feeling as you ride him again. Tense hands grip at every part of you—your waist, your ass, your shoulders—leaving marks on your skin as he tries in vain to bear the sensation. But it isn’t long until his resolve begins to break.

As a gasp catches in Hunter’s throat, his lips break from yours.

“F-Fuck, cyar’ika… I’m gonna…”

You already know. You feel his energy shifting—you feel how close he is. His delayed release has only built up to something more intense… but this time, you don’t back off. You indulge him, rolling your hips even faster than before. With what little stamina he has left tonight, he’s thrusting into you, and you whimper aloud as he hits every perfect spot inside you. You’re as close as he is…

And when you reach your climax, you’re amazed he can stay conscious.

Hunter buries himself to the hilt in your cunt, coming deep inside you. Your orgasm milks him for every last drop, and given the way you’ve tormented him tonight, he has plenty to give. By the time you’ve sucked him dry, his overstimulated cock still twitching in your walls, he’s quivering beneath you, completely and utterly spent. He breathes as heavy as he would during the war, on missions that would see him running for hours… You’re sure he’ll ache just as badly, come morning.

After taking a moment to recover, Hunter opens his eyes, gazing up at you with a precious smile. Gingerly, you tuck his hair behind his ears, supporting his head as you meet him in a feather-light kiss.

“I love you, too, Hunter…” you hum, voice barely above a whisper. “Always have, always will.”

The smile he wears is genuine. He tilts his head to catch your hand, placing a kiss on your palm.

“I’m glad. I don’t know what I’d do without you, cyar’ika.” He pauses, then chuckles bitterly as he closes his eyes again. “Even if you’re liable to kill me, putting me through nights like this…”

Your grin turns more playful. Slowly, you lift yourself off of Hunter, relishing the way he shivers as his length falls out of you.

“Be thankful I’m so generous,” you tease as you lay beside him. You rest your head on his chest, sighing in utter contentment. “If I weren’t, you would be in for another round… or ten.”

Hunter chuckles, voice reverberating in his broad chest in a way that soothes you more than anything else could. Arm wrapped around you, he traces idle shapes on your skin.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something meaner to treat me to when we wake up tomorrow,” he sighs. His gentle lips press to your forehead. “But for now, let me get some rest, huh?”

Giggling, you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck.

“Hm… all right. But only because I love you so much.”

The warm night air, the distant roar of the waves, the embrace of the man you’ll always love… you can’t imagine anything more perfect. But as always, Hunter finds a way to make the greatest things even greater.

“I love you more, cyar’ika. Always.”

AN: Thank you as always for reading mmwah mwah I hope you enjoy, always stay edging that old man ♥♥

[facts-i-just-made-up]

i need a list of your shortest facts to read off to friends in udder dead pan. most of the recent facts are too long to read off.

My shortest few factoids-

I've never written any short factoids.

I never tried to do one.

Short facts are hard.

Billionaire Howard Hughes once attempted to make a film of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and the production would become one of Hollywood’s greatest disasters, taking the lives of over 90 actors and crew, costing nearly half a billion dollars, destroying an entire island, and almost causing a 3rd world war. A party was held to mark the start of production at one of Hughes’ seaside homes and was sadly marred when a drunken Hughes began shooting into the air with his crossbow and killed an albatross, which fell into the punch bowl, offending several actors, who departed the production. This caused a massive production delay during which Hughes bought up over 50 warehouses (including the world’s largest building at the time) to hold the sets and specially built water tanks until casting was replenished. Two of these warehouses burned down (including the world’s largest building fire at the time), destroying the sets which then had to be rebuilt. By the time Hughes decided to cast unknown actors in the lead roles, ten more major set pieces had rotted away delaying the production further. Finally in October of 1948 the new sets and all actors were in place on the luxurious island of Bikini Atoll. The crew was to arrive at the shooting location on October 26th but was delayed by weather. This turned out to be a good thing as the United States conducted an unannounced nuclear test on October 27th, annihilating the island and the sets completely. The island is still toxic, and Howard Hughes, who owned the island, was compensated only $212 for his losses by the government. Undeterred, Hughes began again with fresh sets, and new actors as the previous group had long since departed by 1950. This time, production finally began and footage was shot. It was never developed however because despite the expenditure of $800,000 on pyrotechnics for the first scenes shot, nobody had thought to temperature-protect the film canisters, which were opened at the lab and found to have melted completely into what amounted to large plastic pucks. Hughes filmed the scene again, at the same cost, and then a third time when he was not satisfied with a background extra’s hair. This new footage too was lost when it was captured by rebellious 1950s teenagers who held it for ransom. They asked only $50 but Hughes refused to pay on principle. The actors and crew were even more upset than Hughes that their work had been for nothing and so began the “Leagues Riots” of 1951. What sets remained were once more burned down, this time in protest. Then the real problems began. By then, the Disney production was under way and Hughes spent millions more to spy on and sabotage the rival production. Several Disney employees fell victims to car bombs, others to arsenic poisoning, and one to auto-erotic asphyxiation, but Hughes was not considered responsible for that particular event. Walt Disney, of course, declared war. The “War Between The Sets” began in 1953 as Hughes forces were driven off by Disney’s hired guns, the Mouseketeers which in those days were a fully armed paramilitary force. This skirmish took seven lives, but it was only the beginning. Hughes used his government contracts to secure two bombers and arms weighing in excess of 500 tons, all of which were dropped on Disney owned installations. Disney’s retaliation was severe. Hughes hotels burned days after, there were so many fires that Vegas and LA were both lit as bright as daylight even at midnight from the blazes. Hughes responded with bombings and drone strikes, with “drone strikes” in 1953 referring to dropping bees on ones enemy. The conflict at one point threatened to spill over into Russia’s Southern American interests, leading the president to demand Hughes back down before turning the cold war into a nuclear conflict. By the time a truce was called, Disney’s film was in theaters and Hughes was ready to call it a loss.

Mice can't fart.

[ataraxiaspainting]

Yan Phantom Troupe + Hisoka + Illumi / Darling Asking “What Am I To You?”.

Warnings: Yandere themes, stalking, kidnapping, implied violence, not SFW implications for Hisoka because he’s a creep (and a mention of M*lluki in Illumi’s section I’m sorry for your loss) and also for Nobunaga because he’s bleh, Nobunaga threatens to take out your teeth for biting him it's up to you whether or not to believe him, and manipulation.

Word Count: 4.5k. (literally how lmao)

*~*~*~*

Chrollo

“Hm…” The sound goes on for much longer than what you would have liked or at the very most could handle without sneering, the crescendo in his voice rising and rising like tulips sprouting from soil. “Hm…”

His tone was barely a whisper at first, but it soon evolved like some hideous, god-forsaken species outcasted to a deserted island or planet. If you did not have your forks and knives taken away for trying to pick and cut off the cuff and chain attached to your ankle, a consequence from last week’s horribly executed escape attempt, you would threaten to stab your eardrums if he didn’t actually answer your question. But part of you thinks that he would only find it funny, and simply hum for twice as long as he has already planned to. Or would he be petty about it, and a second cuff and chain will appear on your ankle along with having your only friend, a silver spoon, taken away? With Chrollo, you do not think you will ever be able to fully tell.

“Please answer me,” You decide on responding with a musical note of your own, a drone. It seems to be the safest option, all things considered. You stare at the soup in front of you instead of at him, playing with the idea of counting the precisely cut vegetables and small rings of pasta. You would have entertained the thought of throwing the boiling bowl at him, but you now know that his speed is beyond what you could ever hope to achieve. 

You would never get that far, would you?

You would have to wait until he is gone for the time being to even be able to step on the welcome rug by the door. You managed to convince him to finally buy you hairpins yesterday, and they are safely tucked away in the corner of the table next to your side of the bed, hidden underneath a pile of neatly folded silk pajamas until further notice. 

“Well, what do you think you are to me?” He asks, brushing his foot against yours underneath the dining table. It takes everything in you not to move your chair away. That would only make things worse, wouldn’t it? Or would this just further make him see you as an adorable little thing because he knows you would not get that far, not with the cuff and chain on your ankle and the several locks on the door and him here right in front of you? 

Again, you cannot tell. When can you ever? Could anyone ever read him, you wonder?

His porcelain dish is already empty, with but a few drops of red broth and a few herbs swirling about. He moves his chair forward and gently grabs your hand, his thumb massaging circles into your palm. You don’t know whether or not to answer his question.

This life is like a torturous game of chess, and you aren’t a player at all. It is up to Chrollo to decide whether or not you are worthy of being a pawn or queen or king, and where you go.

Is this all you will ever be?

His fingers rise to your cheek as he stands up, the touch so light it is hard to decipher the intentions of it. Comfort? Ownership? A statement?

Without thinking, you shut your eyes and lean into it. You coo. You coo like a dove, a baby bird, something so small and fragile in the face of a predator that wants nothing more than to take off its wings so it can never fly away. Perhaps the predator in question is the parent of the chick, never wanting it to leave the nest and explore the big, scary world.

Is this all you ever will be? A helpless, silly little thing stuck way up high with no way down, something cute and small that needs to be protected and cared for because they cannot take care of themselves? 

You finally look up at him and he leans in then. He coos back at you, and you want to go back to closing your eyes and trying to stop hearing whatever he will say as a response to your refusal to answer. But you can’t.

So, you think of an answer, something that would make him happy but also not have you speak too long because you don’t want to speak at all. You just want this to be over with, you just want Chrollo to for once respond to your question instead of rebutting with one of his own.

You don’t have a choice, as always.

“Something to possess,” Your voice is soft and hoarse because you never use it aside from when you cry. “Something… someone to keep for your pleasure and your pleasure alone.” He coos again. It is sweet and sticky and latching onto you like thick honey or candy. 

“You’re halfway there.” There is an unspoken praise in the air, one so nectarous it’s suffocating and you almost can't breathe. It is like Chrollo’s hands are on your throat, squeezing and squeezing until you pop like a balloon. There is no escape.

He turns and gets his fingers off your face, but the feeling of freedom is quickly taken away by the sound of Chrollo’s footsteps approaching you. 

“I suppose I see you as both above and below me at the same time.” He says. You want to run but he’ll catch you in no time before you could even execute the idea.

He is behind you now, grabbing your arms and tugging as your chair squeals and squeaks like a lamb cornered by one who will soon sell its tender meat. You want to scream like one because you too are cornered by someone who will never let you out of here alive.

One of his hands smoothly moves up like you are a violin, lightly pinching your chin and forcing you to look up at him. You just hope there is no encore after this. You hope that in the future there are no such things and that he will just answer your questions and be done with it, but that is so foolish of you, isn’t it?

“You are human and have humanity,” He murmurs, his eyes wider and more intense than you ever had seen them before. “And I would love nothing more than to steal that away.”

Nobunaga

“You’re so silly, you know that?” You recognize the rhetorical nature of the question and choose not to answer. This causes Nobunaga to toy with the thigh-high socks he insisted you wear after returning from another day of thievery.

Every time you tried to express yourself verbally, you were met with a laugh, a gentle touch, an embrace, a peck, or... something far more dreadful than any of those gestures. You preferred to steer clear of that type of affectionate act for as long as you could, even if it meant just a few days. It would be a noteworthy achievement. Of course, Nobunaga's libido would never wane, as he shows no mercy unintentionally to you and intentionally to anyone else in his life.

The way your food is placed on pink plastic plates with little sections of where to put vegetables and where to put a small dessert for a job well done of eating all the food, which is always raw or burnt to a crisp. The pastel frilly clothes you’re forced to wear always show too much skin. The threat to remove most of your teeth if you bite him again. The way he keeps touching your thighs, pinching and groaning and-

Nobunaga never answers your question, resuming to hand-feed you some severely undercooked cookies he baked himself. Well, you scooped the dough at least, and that’s the most you’ll ever do in the kitchen while you are held captive.

Still, raw cookie dough is better than burnt in your opinion.

Just like delusional Nobunaga is much, much better than angry, heartbroken Nobunaga.

Your broken pointer and middle fingers are proof of that.

Feitan

“...”

He blinks; once, twice, thrice… and then you stop counting. It’s pointless anyhow, he is most likely not going to answer your question yet again.

As anticipated, Feitan walks away wordlessly, descending to his basement without a single step on the stairs being audible.

Just as you believe he has vanished, he creeps up from behind, clutching an object in his palms, causing you to nearly shriek. He would find amusement in that if you did. Whenever you engage in any action he deems foolish, he chuckles. It is the closest semblance of happiness you have witnessed from him, his snickering. 

“...Here.”

With trembling hands, you accept the concealed object from his grasp.

“...Well?” Feitan asks, raising his eyebrow, his coat hiding what is most likely a smirk of some kind. “Like it?”

Huh? It's... a ring, from a fancy jewelry shop that you had been setting aside money for. This shop happened to be the priciest in the city you grew up in, with all of its items being highly sought after.

“I do.”

Happiness is like the rarest star in the universe to you now, and you will never let it go, now that you have it once again.

“...Glad.”

After a few moments of silence, Feitan is the one who speaks again as you stare at the jewel’s beauty.

“Do you want the finger that came with it?”

(machi, hisoka, phinks, shalnark, franklin, shizuku, pakunoda, bonolenov, uvogin, kortopi, and illumi under cut!)

Machi

Somehow, Machi’s posture becomes even more tense. But it does not stop her from still pouring the pot of instant ramen into your plate, though hers remains empty.

In silence, she puts some edamame, still cold from the fridge, on top, along with some spinach and carrots.

With her bare hand, she pulls out one of the soft-boiled eggs from the bowl of ice water, rolling it on the table until its shell cracks and she takes it off. She then, along with the egg and vegetables, puts some seaweed on top.

When you lean in closer to the utensil drawer, Machi opens it before you can.

She doesn’t ask you which chopsticks you want. She already knows your favorite one by now. The wooden ones with purple handles with white rabbits on them. Hers are plain.

She puts yours in one hand and your food in the other, walking to the kitchen table and putting both down. It’s winter now, and so she makes you drink tea nonstop and thus has a cup of it in front of your chair too.

“…Do you think I hate you?” Her voice, while still cold, has an emotion in it this time; worry. “I don’t, I really don’t. I promise you.” With that, she cracks the other boiled egg and puts it into her empty bowl. “I promise.”

You feel horrible for asking. You just wanted to know. You never know what she is thinking, that is why. But you feel horrible. Now she does too. Both of you, here, in silence, pondering whether or not the other despises you.

“I know, I just… wanted to make sure.” You don’t know if you are lying, and neither does she.

She takes good care of you. But she also ties you up when she has to leave, and one time she had to take out the syringes when you got too aggressive.

So what exactly are you to her?

Hisoka

Hisoka, still standing over your sitting form, puts his right hand on you, squeezing it just barely enough for it to sting.

“Aw, come on [First], lighten up.” If it were possible, with his words Hisoka grows twice as large as he was before he said anything. “I still have lots to teach you.” He chuckles as his long nails, sharp enough to be daggers or a ferocious beast’s teeth you think, dig further into your shoulder. The message is clear. You’ll never be rid of him, as much as you try to.

Even now, when you move to a secluded village on the other side of the country, for just the slightest chance he would leave you alone.

Your basket of berries and herbs is still next to you, a reward for all the foraging you did just before Hisoka showed up again.

“I did your leaf-in-water test already for you.” Just before you ran for the hills, you finally gave into Hisoka essentially begging you to test what kind of Nen user you are, claiming that you were now his pupil. “The water tasted sweet. I’m a Transmuter. That’s what you wanted to know. There is nothing else you can do for me, you know I am no fighter.”

Hisoka nods, and you think that this is it. Maybe he will finally leave you alone and you can go about your life without knowing anything else about Nen. But instead, Hisoka sits next to you on the grass.

He takes a berry from your basket and squeezes it between his fingers before it turns into a sticky mush.

It’s red.

“I know, but there are other things I can indeed teach you, can’t I?”

You don’t want to know what he means, you don’t want to know what he wants to do to you, but before you can stop him he is already on top of you, pushing you behind the bush you were picking rose petals from. You kick and scream at him to let go and cry, but he, as always, is so much stronger than you’ll ever be. 

“This will hurt for a bit, but I promise you’ll feel very good, and you’ll want more.”

Phinks

Phinks stops pressing the buttons on the remote and stops reading the little synopsis on each of the shows he was thinking about watching with you, or each of the movies. You were not paying attention, instead looking at your fingers and playing with the dry skin by each nail.

He sets it aside, placing a hand on the back of his head and gently scratching. His gaze falls to the floor, and you follow suit.

He exudes nervousness. This comes as no surprise, as Phinks has always been one to shy away from openly displaying his romantic desires, as odd as it were to you when you were first brought here.

“Uh. Why do you ask? Isn’t… it kinda obvious? Um… you know I’m not exactly cut out for all this sappy bullshit… I… I… Um. Just… just forget it, okay? Just know that I see you as my partner… Wait, oh God, that sounds so bad…”

He keeps stuttering as he tries to explain everything. But, as funny as it would have been if you had known him outside of being your stalker and now current captor, his words only make you feel more hopeless.

Shalnark

He puts down his phone and stands up from his armchair. You’re in your pajamas, the fluffy pastel pink ones, standing in the doorway to Shalnark’s office area, where there are many computers and such on the walls and his large desk.

“Aw!” He murmurs, then gently pinches your cheeks upon approaching. He playfully rubs his nose against yours. Trying to distance yourself, instantly regretting seeking an answer of any sort from him, yet as always, his overpowering strength prevents any escape.

“C-Come on, Shal…” The nickname sometimes works when you ask for some dessert or a game of some kind, so maybe it will work in a situation like this too. “I wanna go to bed.” You nearly whine as he stretches your cheeks out further. 

“But I still haven’t answered your question, sweetie!” He exclaims.

“F-Forget it.” You mutter, looking to the side. “It’s fine. Really. Get back to work.”

But he does not let go.

“Let me answer! Hmm… you’re so cute, like a kitten. You sure snuggle against me in bed like one!” Shalnark chuckles, and you can smell a mix of coffee and oranges in his breath. “So maybe… that’s the best analogy for it?” Some mint too. “Something to cuddle with? Something to keep safe.” He boops your nose. “Something too silly and adorable and airheaded to live on their own.”

You’re not sure if his words are supposed to hurt you or cheer you up.

“Yeah, I think something like that works!” After what seems like an endless amount of time, Shalnark releases his grasp on your face. “Just look at you.”

“O-Okay.” You murmur, turning away and attempting to make a beeline for the bedroom, regretting ever opening your mouth. “Sorry for asking. Good night-” Shalnark grabs your arm, making you stop moving before you even start. 

“Come on, cutie! Spend some time with me. We can even play Wild World together again!”

He points to your 3DS, a rose gold color, and then to his, which is dark violet and covered in stickers referencing popular memes he saw on the internet. At least he has never made you see some particularly gruesome scene in the horror games he plays late at night out of impulse.

Franklin

As your words hang in the air, a silence so profound that you begin to question if he even registered your message, you find yourself fixating on your unfinished meal. Contemplating the merits and drawbacks of broaching the topic once more versus letting it go, you suddenly hear him put his cup of coffee down with a clatter as he almost slams it by accident.

“Where did this come from?” He asks. His tone almost seems concerned, you think, concerned for how you think of him when he is always so quiet or concerned for how you think he thinks of you, that one day he will simply not come back and find someone else more willing.

Franklin does not seem angry, not that he ever was. He is trying to appear neutral, to not scare you, like you were some sort of stray cat who he has yet to earn the trust of.

Though you don’t bite or scratch, you do hide from him.

“I… just want to know why you did all… this.”

Your eyes go everywhere, from the pots of plants he brought you recently by the barred windows to the blinking light above the stairs he promised to fix soon to Frank Herbert’s Dune laid across the couch next to your blanket. 

“Franklin, since you claim to care about me… why can’t I go outside and be free?”

After a few more moments of silence, you look up at Franklin. He looks remorseful almost, from his visible frown to his eyes almost being closed to the way he does not look at you. Something akin to pity blooms in your chest.

“...Because unfortunately for both of us, I am… selfish, and you are too much for me to lose.”

Just like that, the pity dies similarly to the vase of flowers in the middle of the table.

Shizuku

You don’t know whether or not she will respond while knowing what you are and what she is. A captive. A captor. But you doubt it because every time she comes back she thinks you are here of your own volition and that you love her just as much as you know her.

Sometimes, you wish that you did, because whenever she sees you she looks at you like you were a gift that she had wanted for years.

Sometimes you wish that you did because that would make things oh so much easier for you. She sometimes forgets you are here, sometimes still goes to your actual home, and panics when she sees you are not there.

Shizuku merely chuckles, hugging you tighter. Perhaps she even forgot the slap she inflicted upon you earlier today for daring to say that you hate her, making you fly across the room.

“My love of course, silly!” Sometimes you hope that one day you will forget everything too because you envy Shizuku for never being cautious.

Pakunoda

“[First]...” Pakunoda’s eyes meet your own, one of her hands holding onto a chocolate-covered strawberry from the box she just got. Her other has a presence above one of your own, a presence so light you hardly recognize it is there.

She looks regretful and concerned.

The look fills you with so much guilt you immediately apologize and put the back of your head on her lap once again. It always works.

“You do know I care about you deeply, right, beloved?” Her long nails glide over your hair, making you close your eyes to calm yourself. You hope that look is gone because you aren’t sure how much longer you can take it before you break under its pressure fully. “I really do.”

You know she does, but it does not make the first days of your capture, which feels like an eternity ago, feel any less real, as much as Pakunoda denies the more horrifying parts of it all.

“I know, Paku.”

She smiles at the nickname.

The strawberry approaches your mouth, and you bite into it. Dark chocolate, you think this one is. Pakunoda loves her strawberries, but she loves parfaits just a little bit more. Maybe, to get her to forget your question, you can ask her to get some and feed them to her. 

Soon, you fall asleep. Pakunoda opens her book back up after closing the box of sweets. 

With one hand she caresses your hair, and in the other, she turns the pages of her novel. She loves evenings like this.

“I love you…” She murmurs, brushing some of your hair out of your face. “One day… you’ll love me too, fully, right?”

Half asleep, you agree without thinking. Once again, she smiles.

Bonolenov

With a sigh, he turns his head, momentarily interrupting your question. However, he quickly resumes dancing before you, delighting in your observation of his favorite pastime. Although you are unsure of the specific style of dance he is performing, you are confident that Bonolenov will soon enlighten you, taking the opportunity to boast about his expertise in this particular art form.

Listening to his animated explanations is always entertaining. His frequent rants make you feel as though he is a close friend rather than your captor if only that were true. Despite the circumstances, he treats you with kindness and respect. He believes that housing you in his home is an honor and privilege, a sentiment for which you hold some gratitude.

“A lover, because I do love you. You are simply wonderful to be around, after all.” In an alternate existence, were he not involved in criminal activities such as theft, kidnapping, stalking, and multiple murders, you might have developed an affection for him. This is due to your awareness of his deep affection for you and the kindness he exhibits towards you.

So you say such.

Bonolenov stays silent for a little while after that, along with the dancing that he often enjoys doing. Instead, he gazes through the windows, adorned with steel bars, and tenderly places small tokens that he knows bring you joy upon the table in the kitchen.

Uvogin

“Huh?”

Uvogin stops punching the claw machine, turning to you. It’s a mess, all because you said you wanted a corgi plush from it. But is it your fault, when you wanted to win it fair and square?

Maybe it’s not. Maybe it is. You know Uvogin is never one to have coins in his pockets. But, then again, he always seemed to have money when he was placing bets with Troupe members, especially with that Nobunaga person.

He seems confused, albeit he is hiding it behind a smirk. In one of his hands, covered in little shards of glass, is the stuffed animal you wanted.

“Come on, [First]!” He laughs, delusionally proud of himself. “I’m your boyfriend!” He wasn’t, but you would never voice that.

“...I-I know. But still… Do you like me?” You make an effort to convey your thoughts in the most diplomatic manner possible, being cautious not to provoke Uvogin's anger. Despite never having witnessed Uvogin's wrath, you remain steadfast in your desire to avoid it at all costs.

His smile widens.

“Of course I do!”

He presents you with the cuddly toy, having meticulously removed all the splinters of glass embedded within it.

“Do you really?” You ask, thinking of the time he threatened to break your legs if you ever attempted to run away from him again. He wasn’t even angry as he said the threat. 

At another one of your questions, Uvogin says yes. But does he really? Or are you just something to hoard?

Do you really want to find out, you wonder? 

Your heart tells you you don’t.

Kortopi

He turns his head, confused. It is one of the few expressions you can decipher from Kortopi because of the many strands of hair covering him. At the sight, you bow your head down.

He steps forward, and you step back.

He stops moving. So do you.

He retreats. You don’t speak for the rest of the day. You were used to it though. Kortopi hardly ever talks to you, but you don’t think he means it to be rude.

“Everything.” He mutters, standing above your bed. You sleep so peacefully, something you never were when you were awake. “You are everything.”

Illumi

Gently, he puts his teacup down with a little clatter of the saucer as he does so.

“Do you think I see you in a bad light, [First]?”

You simply look down at your teacup, smelling the lavender and chamomile to try to calm down a bit before answering Illumi.

The query has plagued your mind for an extended period. The exact duration remains elusive, as the days have merged into an indistinguishable blur. No matter your actions, pain will be inflicted upon you by someone, regardless of your conduct. Perhaps it will be Illumi's mother, administering a slightly sublethal, tasteless toxin with a syringe. Or it could be Illumi himself, subjecting you to days of confinement in a food and water-deprived closet. Regardless of your behavior, the inevitability of suffering looms. 

With the intent of prolonging your exposure to the morning birdsong and granting yourself additional time in the garden, you opt to respond.

“N-No.” You lie. “You… keep me around to be molded into your perfect spouse, I know that, it is just… just…”

His smile sends chills down your spine, surpassing even the terror of Illumi's younger brother once launching into a lewd tirade about you in your presence.

“That is all there is to it; nothing more, nothing less.”

You sip the tea finally, and the burning sensation in your throat does not bother you anymore.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Heel, Stay, and Shake.

🐦‍⬛ What’s this? A wild bird in our classroom? Now we can’t have that, can we? 🧪

By My Hand.

Raven didn’t know what to expect when Professor Crewel asked to see him after class. A summons from him typically meant one of two things: a thorough scolding or remedial work. Sometimes both.

She wasn’t the type for either. Raven kept her head down and behaved—and thus stood off to the side of his wrath. And now here she was, standing in the line of fire.

“Wooow, sucks to be you,” Ace had sneered on his way out. “The goody-two-shoes finally gets into trouble herself!”

“Leave her alone, Ace,” Deuce grumbled, “You don’t want to make things worse for her than they already are.”

Even the Prefect, Yuu—level-headed, neutral—had passed her a look of sympathy. But they cleared out of the laboratory the same as the rest, leaving Raven to her doom.

The heavy wooden door slammed shut, trapping her in with their teacher.

Crewel had traded his lab coat and safety goggles for his usual attire: a black and white color-blocked vest, black undershirt and slacks, smart shoes that clicked with every step, blood red gloves, socks, and tie. Over this, a striped fur coat with several tails, the insides a shocking scarlet.

He ran a hand through his hair—black slicked back, white in a graceful sweep of parted bangs. His eyes, a shade of iced onyx, dug into her like the teeth of a dog. Not enough to pierce the skin, but enough to threaten to.

She struggled not to tremble under his gaze. Raven knew it to be discerning and, more importantly, unrelenting in its critique.

“Crowley.”

“Y-Yes!!” Raven yelped, standing at attention. Her posture naturally corrected itself at his voice. Back stiffening, head lifting. “Wh-Whatever it is I’ve said or done to offend you, I apologize! I will reflect on my actions and do better in the future!”

“Offend me?” Crewel’s surprise melted into a devilish smirk. “You’ve done nothing of the sort. However, I’m flattered that you would think yourself in such dire need of my private instruction.”

“Eh? Then what did you need me for…?”

“A curiosity of mine. I hope you do not mind.”

“N-No, sir! Curiosity not minded!”

A chuckle.

Crewel extended his pointer to a line of shelves. “I’ve heard from the headmaster that you care for colorants. Is that correct?”

Raven was all too eager to provide the answer and then book it out of there. “That’s right. I brew some in my spare time. They’re enchanted inks, meant for writing and journaling.”

“Inks? What, may I ask, makes them ‘enchanted’?”

“Well…” Raven gestured to a potted mandrake. “It’s like cultivation. I infuse magic into the ink, which grants them fun properties. Smelling like an orange slice, glowing even long after you’ve penned it, words that produce the sounds they write out.”

“I see.” Interest had started to seep into Crewel’s voice. “Have you ever thought to extend this skill to other areas of application?”

“No, not really. It’s just something I got into to save on pocket money. Commercial inks can be expensive, so I thought to make my own with the ingredients gathered from around campus…”

Raven trailed off.

A glint had settled into Crewel’s eyes. The very same shine that came into Crowley’s at the mention of money or fresh game.

“It seems to me,” Crewel said slowly, “that you have a talent.”

A stone dropped into her stomach.

Uh-oh, here comes trouble.

“I would very much like to train that talent.” He tapped his pointer into an open palm. Each strike light, but had all the gravity of a gravel.

“Huh?!”

“You’re familiar with Night Raven College’s charity ball?”

“Yes…”

She couldn’t forget it even if she tried. The headmaster had droned about it for the last several weeks, declaring it a “prime time” to look good to the public. (Half of those weeks had been spent preening and wondering which suit and tie to wear.)

“School staff are to be in attendance to oversee the event. This year, we’re donating the proceeds to an animal shelter on Sage’s Island—a cause I’m particularly passionate about. As such, I would like to wear something stunning—and to dazzle at a show, you must have the element of surprise. I will be designing my own outfit. That is where you will come in.

“I will provide the materials, and you will prepare the dye for it. I want a unique color and magical effect that suits my image and enhances it.”

“But I don’t know the first thing about fabrics or treating them,” Raven protested faintly.

“Which is why I will mentor you. It will be a collaborative effort.”

“I-I’m sure you’re entirely capable of accomplishing this on your own, Professor! After all, Crewel-sensei is so very skilled…”

“Tch.” He frowned, making his displeasure clear. “You are missing the point, pup. Do you really think I wouldn’t have already done so, were that my intention?”

Raven flinched. “I don’t know, sir.”

“Night Raven College is making efforts to promote teamwork in its curriculum and extracurricular activities. For such a front-facing event, our new direction will be center stage. You’re a clever girl. I’m certain I do not need to explain the importance of this.”

“Surely there are more ideal candidates, sir… Students far more qualified than me. V-Vil-senpai? Or a Science Club member? Rook-senpai might be interested.”

“Of course I am aware of that—but this isn't about them. This is about you."

His pointer sliced through the air, so sharp that it cracked like a whip, aiming itself right at her. Crewel's face was the picture of arrogance, a high and mighty king looking down at the peasants. (Raven suddenly understood why he, of all teachers, was a Night Raven College graduate.)

"Since the day you scampered into my classroom, you've been nothing but a meek little thing. Obedience is all well and good, but you lack a bark and a bite, the confidence to be bold and to demonstrate your ability with pride. Schoenheit and the others already have that.

“You must learn how to speak up, pup! And this Crewel-sama will be the one to teach that to you.”

“B—But…”

“No buts!” he snapped. “If you’re going to reject the idea, then do so with your entire chest! I will accept it as proof of your bite. If you cannot muster that, then you will submit yourself to my guidance. What will it be?”

Raven shrunk back—proving his point. Speak up? Louder, more sternly—against her own teacher? She couldn’t.

Yikes, he’s so fired up about this… There’s no way I can comfortably say ‘no’!

She balled her fists up, terribly twisting her skirt. Raven sighed deeply, resigning herself to her fate.

“… Alright, I will do my best to assist, Crewel-sensei. In return, I will be relying on you too.”

“Good girl. You’ve made your choice.” Crewel offered a hand. “Then let us shake on it.”

She hesitantly took it. His grip was firm and resolute, hers limp and unenthusiastic.

At last, he smiled in satisfaction. “I look forward to instructing you, Crowley. I expect you to keep up.”

Never in her life had she felt more like some poor dog strung along on a leash.

[ericmedia]

New Short

[of-many-fandomss]

Hi, can you do a jj maybank x fem routledge reader where they have looked eachother for a really long time and they eventually start dating but it's a secret and one day after an altercation with his dad jj comes to get for help and he stays the night with her and in the morning John b goes to wake her up and sees her an jj cuddling all tangled together then takes a pic of them

JJ x routledge reader is one of my favorite tropes

—————

“JJ?”

Right as you spoke, a loud snore sounded from behind the blond boy, causing him to flinch slightly. The sight of that alone make your heart tighten in your chest.

“I-I had no where else to go.” He whispered, averting his eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh, J, you know you can always come to me.” You gently ushered him into your room and softly kicked the door shut behind you to try and drone out the rest of your brothers loud snoring from his place on the couch.

It was the middle of the night, barely even two in the morning, and you had been peacefully cuddled up on your bed in one of JJ’s old shirts when a soft knock on your door awoke you from your slumber. JJ himself stood on the other side of the door with a dark bruise around his right eye that was enough to make your breath hitch.

The two of you had been best friends since you were children, and in love with each other for almost that long. Of course, neither of you ever did anything about it until recently- two months ago, to be exact- when you found yourselves kissing during a kegger. Well, the two of you had snuck away from the party to watch the stars, so you weren’t technically at the event, but still. You had been secretly dating ever since.

As much as you both wanted to show off and shout it out to the world that the two of you were happily together, one thing drew you back. John Booker Routledge.

It was common knowledge to the entire island that your older brother was protective of you, even more so after your fathers disappearance. He hated the idea of you dating anyone in the obx, let alone his best friend.

“Come here,” You cooed softly, sliding onto your mattress and holding your arms out for JJ.

Without hesitation, he dropped beside you and cuddled up into your side, burying his face in your shirt as his arms came around your torso and gripped onto you whilst searching for comfort.

This had happened more times than you would like, and had sadly even become a small routine between the two of you. Whenever things got really bad with his dad, he would come to you and the two of you would stay wrapped up in each others arms all night long. You had learned long ago not to ask what had happened or if he was alright, instead just letting your presence comfort him to the best of your ability.

You leaned your head down and pressed a small kiss to the top of his mop of hair as he rested his cheek on your stomach and you began slowly running your hands through his blond locks.

“You’re okay, J, I’m here. I’m here.” You whispered softly in his ear.

This was the part that killed you. The feeling of pure helplessness. You were helpless to stop the boy you loved from getting hurt by his own father and you were sure that that alone would be the death of you one day.

“I love you,” He mumbled, holding onto you tighter as he spoke.

“I love you too, J, so much.”

—————

“Yo, wake up, sleepy head.” John B yawned and stretched his arms over his head as he made his way to your room before opening up your door.

The sight in front of him made him freeze, and for the first time that morning, he was fully woken up.

You and JJ were laying in your bed, completely oblivious to the new presence in the room as you two slept soundly. Your head was leaning against the boys chest that was softly rising and falling with each breath he took.

Just as your brother could feel himself starting to lose it, and no doubt was about to lunge at the sleeping boy in a blind rage, his eyes linked onto something. JJ’s arm.

It was securely wrapped around your sleeping form, and even unconsciously tightened slightly at the sound of the door opening, even as he slept. As if he were afraid that something was going to come and rip you away from him.

It was that and the look of soft peacefulness that seemed to wash over both yours and the boys features like a tidal wave that stopped him in his tracks.

Now that John B thought about it, he finally realized all the ways that JJ went out of his way to look after and take care of you, and that was enough for your brother right now.

He grabbed out his phone and took a picture of the two of you, deciding to momentarily leave you alone but use the photo as evidence later to bring it up to you.

Reluctantly, he left the room, waiting until the door clicked softly behind him before he let out a small breath of air.

He might not be overly fond of the idea, but he knew that in the end, JJ would never do anything to hurt you, and John B trusted him with that if nothing else.

[stonecreationslongisland]

Robert Moses Looking Towards Fire Island Lighthouse by Paul Saladino Via Flickr: Fire Island Lighthouse was an important landmark for transatlantic ships coming into New York Harbor at the turn of the last century. For many European immigrants, the Fire Island Light was their first sight of land upon arrival in America. The first lighthouse built on Fire Island was completed in 1826. It was a 74-foot high, cream-colored, octagonal pyramid made of Connecticut River blue split stone. The tower was built at the end of the island, adjacent to the inlet. This tower was not effective due to its lack of height. It was almost entirely removed and the stone reused to build the terrace for the present lighthouse. Today a circular ring of bricks and stone are all that remain of the original lighthouse. Due to the westward migration of sand along the beach, known as littoral drift, the inlet is now approximately six miles westward of this site. In 1857 Congress appropriated $40,000 for the construction of a new tower, 168 feet tall. It was lit for the first time on November 1, 1858. This tower was made of red brick, painted a creamy yellow color. The tower was changed to the present day-mark of alternating black and white bands in August 1891.

[elixir]

Dmitry Kokh (Russia) presents this haunting scene of polar bears shrouded in fog at the long-deserted settlement on Kolyuchin.

On a yacht, seeking shelter from a storm, Dmitry spotted the polar bears roaming among the buildings of the long-deserted settlement on the small island of Kolyuchin. While the females and their cubs kept closer to the shore, the males padded among the discarded fuel barrels. As they explored every window and door, Dmitry used a low-noise drone to take a picture that conjures up a post-apocalyptic future.