#be punk rock!!! stay masked kids

[advestager]

tagged by @thisisnottheblogyourelookingfor ages ago (tysm!!! i'm so bad at doing these but i love them) and i regret to inform y'all that i do, in fact, own both these exact outfits

tagging @jockbots, @nireos, @rose-of-the-underworld, @yeahmerule, @aroacebunny, @mathewdevassy, @chamaleonsoul, @a-written-dream, @calnrio, @quetzalpapalotl, and anyone else who wants to play to join me in dress-up shenanigans!

[fanaticsnail]

Will You Let Me?

Masterlist Here, Pollen Masterlist Here

Word count: 4,500+

Synopsis: Your crew was docked at a port, exploring a new land while you requested to remain behind. Enjoying being without the unruly bunch, your momentary calm was disrupted by the staggering step of your superior. Coughs, grunts and stuttering over his words: your concern grew more severe as you offered to help him through it.

Themes: pollen!killer x gn!reader, NSFW, mdni, 18+, smut, penetration reader!receiving, swearing, dubcon, begging, pleading, apologising, bruising, crying, rough, do not read if you do not enjoy the trope, fluff at the end, semi-ooc.

Notes: first time writing gn!reader smut! I enjoyed the challenge, but forgive me if there's a word that is used incorrectly! I am still learning inclusive language.

Pollen is a fun trope to play with, but please do not read if you don't enjoy.

Apprehensive Tag List: @sordidmusings @remisloves @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @since-im-already-here @mfreedomstuff @icy-spicy

The hot sun shone over the wooden deck of the Victoria Punk. The soft waves gently rocked the boat with a subtle lull, the screech of gulls only aiding your heart to swell in merry solitude.

It was a rare occasion that you were tasked to remain behind while the crew explored a foreign area. Your skills as a linguistics specialist usually meant your silver tongue was called for to coax a good deal, or to decipher scratchings on cave walls. Considering this area was only a port meant for resupply, Captain Kid deemed your skills unnecessary for the journey in land.

Never one to complain, and genuinely giddy at the notion of being secluded and alone for a change, you jumped at the opportunity to stay with the Victoria Punk. You adored your ship, and decided to utilise the opportunity to check over her planks, ropes, and panels that may be in need for repair.

As the day went on, you did not expect a member of your crew to return so suddenly: especially the hulking masked figure of Massacre Soldier Killer. Being the first-mate, he was usually by Kid's side, no matter the circumstances.

Coughing, sneezing and sputtering: Killer’s right hand shot out to grasp your left shoulder. The firmness of his grip was bordering on painful, prompting you to wince in response to the hard strangulation of flesh.

“Something gross hit me in the face,” he strained from behind the teal and ivory mask, “Stuck in my chest and my throat. Not feeling good. Gotta-... fuck-... I gotta lie down or something.”

Concern and worry knit itself over your face, examining the staggering movement of Killer’s body as he retreated below deck. He stuttered and gripped onto the wooden beams, walls and ceiling to stabilize his movement: his body almost giving way beneath the pressure.

“Kil, do you need-,” you began, halting as his voice raised over the top of yours.

“-‘M fine. D-Don’t worry, ‘kay?” he called over his shoulder before disappearing below deck. His large figure seemed to both be inflated and deflated with a foreign paralysis in his choppy, staggered steps. The waves did nothing to sooth him in his glide throughout the halls.

As soon as he reached crew-quarters, he all but shredded his clothes and cast them away from his body. His skin was alite with violent lust, his hands moving against his will to fist, claw and paw at the erogenous zones of his torso, stomach, legs, and his puckered nipples.

He arched his back as his hands gripped the base of his already steel-like cock, immediately pumping it in his right fist. His left hand clawed at the flesh of his chest and lay flat over his heart as he felt the rise in fluttered rapidity.

Scraping and gripping downwards with his left hand, he pushed hard on the base of his stomach, feeling how tightly wound the banded coil was wound in the pit of his stomach: bound hard enough to snap. Every muscle was tense, firm and aching for relief. He began sniffling and sobbing behind his mask, never truly experiencing the shame in the desperation his body was craving before.

He was the only one who managed to not avoid the hessian bag of powdered flowers falling from the rooftop of the naturopathic remedy building. Apologetic calls echoed down from the roof before panic began to rise in the workers. Killer could scarcely process voices above the throbbing ache in his lower abdomen.

Barely hearing several repetitions of Kid’s voice calling: “Killer, are you alright? Kil, are you alright?” All Killer could do was splutter and cough through the burning in his chest.

Golden flecks danced over his eyes beneath the mask, the pollen sucked immediately through the holes and embedded several clusters within the circular orifices. No matter how many times he wiped at the mask with his hands, he continued to inhale the sticky-sweet smell of herbal flowers within deep gulps of his lungs.

“Get him back home!” a hushed voice hurriedly spat at Captain Kid, “He needs a companion, someone to take care of him while he's going through this. Someone caring and kind enough to-.”

“-Don't tell me what to do! Kil, you know the way back to the ship from here?” Kid’s voice barked at Killer, prompting the blonde to spark a moment of clarity in his progressingly foggy mind, “The linguist is back there. They'll take care of ya’ if ya’ need it, okay?”

“Okay,” Killer managed to stutter out, his body scorching hot and violently in need.

“Okay!” Kid parrotted back, looking at the shopkeeper, “Okay, great. Now that's settled, we need a couple things from you. Let's get that sorted before-."

As Killer continued fisting at his cock, he felt release on the tip of his tongue. His eyes were scrunched tightly shut and his lips were parted wide. Unbeknownst to him, each time he panted through his heavy inhales and exhales; more of the toxic pollen punctured his lungs and poisoned his bloodstream with arousal.

He was consumed with lust, a beast untamed and unbridled. There was no release for him, no relief that came thereafter. He was isolated, confused, scared and manic. He needed something, someone, anyone-.

“-No,” Killer spoke aloud in a strangled whisper, “Not anyone. I need the linguist. I n-need-... fuck-... I need my linguist. Where i-is my linguist?”

Continuing about your task of ensuring all of the ropes were properly coiled and laid, your heart began to pang with guilt. You decided to cast aside all further self-induced tasks and seek out the first-mate you serve beside, attempting to offer him comfort through his illness. He seemed so adamant about isolation, but you felt called to be by his side.

Venturing below deck, his painful strain of wanton moans called to you. Muffled groans of pain exhumed from the room, cries of anguish falling through the door. Your deepest sympathies clawed at you to push through the door. Your hand hesitated it's rise against the wooden panel, your body almost walking away before you heard a gentle and heartfelt cry of your name falling from Killers lips.

“I-If you're there,” Killer’s voice again called for you, “Please come in. Please,” he chanted your name with a soft, strangled moan, “Please. I need you.”

Immediately, your body moved against your will. Twisting the knob to crew quarters, you swung the door wide and was immediately met with the sight of your first mate: glistening in beads of sweat and shed of all but his teal and ivory face covering, and viciously pulling at his cock.

“Killer! Why did you tell me to come in if you were doing that?” you shouted in a harsh whisper, immediately slamming the door shut behind you and scrunching your eyes tightly shut, “I don't want to watch that!”

Thick silence aside from the cruel pistoning of his firm hand slapping against his lower stimach engulfed the air. Soft huffs of muffled pants escaped gritted teeth, Killer's mask doing the heavy lifting in silencing his cries for you.

“I don't want you to watch,” Killer confessed in a soft, breathy whine, “Please don't watch,” he keened for you, “Participate.”

“Killer!” you shot over your shoulder at him with a warning tone, “What are you-?”

“-I would never a-ask if I didn't-...” He trained off in a strangled whimper, desperately clenching down on his tongue with his teeth and biting back his needy sobs, “...I-I need you. I need you. Only you.”

“Kil,” you sighed at him, your concern written over you'd face, “Have you taken something? Was it the gross thing from earlier? Did that have an effect on you? Like a drug-?”

“-Look at me,” a barked command exited the holes in the mask, “Please, look at me,” he pleaded, gasping as he grasped at his cock, fisting the flesh and whimpering as he was brought to the brink of ecstacy once again, “Just look at me, please. I just need your eyes on me. Eyes on me.”

“Killer,” you whimpered, finally turning to face him. As soon as your eyes met with the icy stare beneath his mask, you were entranced. Your body propelled you against forward, called to serve the needs of the first mate in a hypnotic trance.

“I need you,” he sobbed, reaching for you with his left hand as his right continued beating his weeping cock, “Only you. Please, let me have you?”

Your body continued reacting against your will, your brain becoming foggy as Killer’s lust thickened the air with all-consuming need. Shame coursed just as heavily throughout your body as the arousal at just the thought of taking Killer’s cock into you began coursing through your veins.

“Please,” he whined, his eyes holding your own as you stripped yourself of your clothes, “Please,” his lips spilt as you straddled his lap, “Please,” as you immediately began sinking yourself down over the tip of his knob.

His precum did little to prepare you your your descent, focussing on your wanton need to have him within you to open your body up to receive him. Killer moaned your name, crying out with baited breath as you slowly consumed all of his length with the grip of your tight hole.

As soon as he felt your heat take his entire length, he was already a babbling mess. There was no strings of cohesive thought as his length became strangled within your tight center. He immediately began shooting your body full of ropes of thick release, ribbon after ribbon of his pale translucent ecstasy.

He cried out for you in warning before painting your walls white with his sticky cum. The pearly beads of his lust coated your tight hole immediately, strings of praise falling from his lips as he rode through his high with you fully impaled on his thick cock.

But he remained firm, hard and desperate for more.

“Wha-...” he began, his understanding of his own arousal and relief not aiding him in the slightest as he thrust up into you. He moaned as he sheathed his lengthy shaft deep within you again, your own arousal now taking over as you started to roll your hips against him while sat fully engulfed by him.

“Killer, what's going on?” you questioned him, your confusion and worry knit on your face, “You're s-still hard.”

“I-I am,” he confirmed, a soft mewl of bliss echoed beneath his mask as he rolled his hips up into you, “What’s happening to me?”

His hands found your hips, rocking you above him as he began feeling another wave of need course through his veins. As his hands embedded into your hips, you winced at the sting. His strength depicted in his grasp, gripping you like a lifeline anchoring himself to the world surrounding him.

He tried.

He tried so hard to be gentle.

He wanted to be gentle for you. Needed to be gentle for you.

But his grip turned sinister, turned brutal and unforgiving as he thrust up into you. His end was coming to a close as he chased it with you writhing and pleading on his lap. His desperation enticed him to continue bullying your tight center with vicious snaps of his bruising slaps.

“Kil,” you called for him, feeling his cock touch a depth within you that had your back arching and mewling for him, “Oh, Kil. I'm close.”

“Please,” he begged, desperately thrusting up into your lap as his end stampeded before his eyes, “Please cum. Please. N-Need it.”

“Killer,” you called for him, feeling the band weave ever tighter within your abdomen, spiraling and coiling within the pit of your stomach, “Kil I'm gonna-.”

“-Oh, fuck!” he roared, his body immediately betraying him as he coated your insides with ropes of hot, sticky, and heavy cum for the second time. His balls sucked up inside his body, his entire being screaming in relief as his release was once again began satisfying his unbridled lust for you.

But his cock still remained firm.

Your eyes clenched firmly shut, the corners wincing at the slight pinch as the coil snapped deep within you. White-hot ecstacy coursed through your veins, your body releasing your bliss over yours, and Killers, bodies as you rode through your high seated on his lap.

His hands were firm, rocking you atop him with a guiding, harsh rhythm as you called his name. Your whole being was alight with passion, your eyes now opening and looking down at the man beneath you.

Killer didn't realize it until he felt his eyes roll back in his skull, his body immediately ushered into a third orgasm as your body milked him with the rhythmic thumps of your warm orgasm. But he still remained firm, hard and needy. He inhaled a deep, shaky breath: particles of pollen immediately spiraling in a cylindrical vacuum deep into his lungs.

“I c-can’t,” Killer called for you, immediately grappling you in his arms. He threw you beneath him, his vice-grip clawing at your hips as he pummeled down into your body, “I can't stop, I can't stop, I can't stop.”

You bit back a whimper, your body barely recovering from the prior spend of your hot release. Overstimulated, ill-prepared and encumbered with your new task at hand: Massacre Soldier Killer never let up. Not even for a moment.

In fact, he only got more intense, ferocious and brutal the moment your body began to milk his cock.

“P-Please know I'm sorry,” he choked out a strangled whimper. His fingers ached with the intensity he was gripping onto you with, leaving punctures of purple intents over your hip bones due to the butality he was burrowing into you.

“O-Oh fuck,” you sucked in your bottom lip, biting down hard as the corners of your eyes began pricking with tears, “It's okay, it's okay. I know. I can t-take it.”

You spoke through those words of confirmation, truly attempting to convince yourself of the ability to endure this rough treatment for as long as Killer needed to use your body for. Rough slaps of his hips smacked against your body, his veiny cock scraping itself through your body as his knob hit angles you didn't realize you could experience. It would equate to bliss if his grip wasn't so intense.

Excruciating agony and white-hot ecstacy were in a perfect marriage within your body beneath the hulking form of Massacre Soldier Killer. The harmonious entanglement driven further by the grunts, growls, roars from the man above you, only for them to turn into begging whimpers and pleas for you to endure just a moment longer.

“I kn-know this isn't-... f-fucking nnghm-... this isn't g-good for you,” his breathy whisper cut through his growls like a pick through ice, “I can't stop. I can't fucking stop.”

“It's okay, Kil. I p-promise it's okay,” you grit your teeth as his grip intensified on your hips, "You're good. You're b-being so good." His rhythm was unforgiving, the pace and rate his body rut into you was tormenting, brutal and punishing.

This was not the first-mate you knew. The beast in his stead was as violent as Killer was in battle, ripping bones and slashing through flesh. This was not at all what you anticipated from aiding Killer through this feat of lust.

His desperation was abhorrent, something he was repulsed by. He never dreamed of joining his body with yours in this strenuous and savage manner. He wanted to be kind, always kind, only ever kind, should you grant him the access to you he so desperately longed for from afar.

Softly spoken, dutiful and almost loving. That's who you knew him to be, and that's who he wanted to be for you. Your friend, your comrade in arms, your senior serving crewmate who you trusted to have your back.

How would you ever trust him again after this? How could he ever trust himself? That push and pull of chasing his relief with you caged beneath him coincided with the tug of his heart and the fog of his mind. He wants you to trust him after this. He wants you to look him in the eye and tell him you still want him. He needed that from you; the confirmation this was not only simply for now, but something he could have once again.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” he sobbed into your neck, the cool surface of his mask grounded you. Huffs of his breath poked through the holes in his mask, his icy-blue eyes were scrunched tightly shut while his body remained alight like a beacon in darkness.

He had already reached his climax three times, shooting burst after burst of his sticky cum deep within you. Although relief was found immediately afterwards, his cock continued to remain stiff as the steel of a blade in a snow storm.

He just couldn't stop. Why couldn't he stop?

“Kil, I-I think you n-need-... ahh,” you mewled as he moved his hands up to your waist, his broad fingers splayed out to perch like a bird of prey against your skin. He rammed his full length in and out, your stomach beginning to ache with the bulge protruding deep within your abdomen.

“N-Need you,” he groaned in your ear, his hips stapling you against the floor with each cruel slap, “Need to keep going. Almost th-there again.”

“I know, Kil. I know,” you soothed his hair in your hands, trails of wet tears streaked your cheeks with how much sensations your body was taking, “Take what you need, I'm here.”

“I’m gonna-... I'm gonna- f-fuck. I'm gonna cum again,” he groaned deep within his mask, his voice picking up at the end in a small shuddery whimper, “Oh fuck, oh fuck. I'm cumming.”

Your head rolled back, eyes wide as you felt him empty himself within you for a fourth time. The sticky splashback of his hot cum trickled out of your needy hole, his cock buried up to the hilt with his spend leaking over his pubic hair and thighs. He huffed against your shoulder, his mask almost becoming loose over his face as he recovered.

“Good boy,” you cooed at him, pressing a soft kiss onto his bare shoulder as he shuddered and shook through his fourth spurt of ecstacy, “Good boy, Kil. Get it all out.” His cock twitched at your title bestowment, the hardness of his steely cock refusing to deflate no matter the amount of release he pumped into you.

“I-It’s not going down,” he whimpered into you, his hips beginning to roll against yours once more, “It's not going down. I don't know what to do,” his sobs began to shake at his shoulders.

“It's okay,” you winced out, feeling the heat of release exiting from your overspent body with ooze of fluid, “I-I think you need to take your mask off.”

“Wh-What?” he gasped at you, his hands continuing to hold you firmly against the mattress of his bed, “The mask off?”

“Some-... fuck, Kil-... something hit you in the face, ri-right?” your voice was several notes higher than your usual cadence, crying beneath him as he pummeled into you, “Might be still in your mask. Take it off. I'll close my eyes, I'll not tell a soul,” you winced, clamping your eyes tightly shut, “I'll be good. I'll tell no-one.”

Killer immediately halted his thrusting, his body in momentary stasis as your words reached him. His body screamed at him to keep going, to keep pummeling into you, to keep chasing his high that was just within reach. But he stopped, his cock sheathed deep within you.

“Look at me,” he purred down at you, his hands still firm on your waist. His grip grasped you tighter, misbehaving beneath Killer's pleading to hold you more gently.

Unclenching your scrunched eyes, you gazed up at him as his hands left your body and unclasped the mask from shrouding his face. Icy blue eyes, as pale as the sky and as deep as the ocean pierced you as his gaze met with yours. Your breath was stolen from within your lungs, choking back on your surprise at his appearance.

Massacre Soldier Killer was beautiful.

“Look up at m-me,” he stammered, his hips rolling against yours as his cock burrowed deep within your body, “Look at me. I n-need you to see me. I need you to see how desperately I need you.”

His eyelashes fluttered, his eyelids growing heavy as his rhythmic thrusts began to pick up their intensity. Your eyes never left his for a moment: not to look at his lips, not his beard, nor his angular cheekbones, nor his nose. His eyes were what captivated you most, holding you hostage as their glassy hue glazed over to chase his high within you.

“Y-You were right,” he huffed between thrusts, “My lungs aren't burning, and I-I think this is it. Th-This one is it.” His pace was excruciating, but the satisfaction you were beginning to feel build itself within you screamed at you to let him continue using you.

“You can do it, Kil,” you rolled your hips to match his pace, staring up through half-hooded lashes into his eyes, “Use me. Take me, I'm yours.”

“You're mine,” he moaned his growling voice down at you, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against your neck, “Perfect for me. Made for me.” His cock twitched deep within you, your body reacting to his needy chase and toppling over with his final release.

“F-Fuck, Kil!” you cried, your body beginning to throb, your thumps of bliss coaxing Killers balls to empty deep within, “I-I’m-... I’m cumming. Killer, I'm cumming!”

“Cum with me, cum with m-me,” he begged, his pace picking up as his cock finally began weeping it's spend for the fifth time deep within you, “With me. F-Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Pants of breath, fluttering of elevated heartbeats and joint cries of bliss ricocheted off the wooden walls of the crew-quarters of the Victoria Punk. Killer's mask lay discarded beside the door, lulling in the subtle rock of the waves over the floorboards as you both fell away from your mutual highs.

Killer moved his head away from your shoulder, gazing down to where your bodies remained joined together in awe. His lips were agape, his eyelashes fluttering as he pulled himself away from you. Watching the floodgates open from your abused entrance, your mutual juices coating both of your stomachs, thighs and soaking the mattress beneath you.

Killer looked to your hips, his lips parting and eyes becoming teary as he noticed the damage showcased on your body.

Marks littered your skin, deep hues of purple branded your flesh, depicting Killer's unrestrained lust and need for you. His bliss was eclipsed by deep sorrow as his fingers gently caressed the elevated indents in your skin. Sensing his unease, you immediately flung your hands up and collected his cheeks in your palms.

“I can handle it,” your eyes searched his, looking between his deep, blue orbs with your eyes only depicting support and affection, “I wouldn't have let you do it if I couldn't handle it.”

Killer turned his head, his lips meeting your palm with his whiskered chin tickling your flesh. This small moment of affection felt more sacred, more secret, and more intimate than the emassment of bodily fluids you shared moments prior.

“I shouldn't have been so rough with you,” he scolded himself, “I will never be rough with you again.” His fingertips caressed your hips, soothing over your aching flesh and wordlessly apologizing with deep, intentional touches.

“Are you feeling okay, Kil?” you asked him, lazily cocking your head to the side, “Don't need to go again?”

“Fuck, no,” he huffed through a small, squeak of laughter, “Not right now, at least.”

Smiling up at him, you propped yourself up on your elbows and gazed deeply into his eyes. You couldn't get enough of the luxury it was to gawk at the handsome man who just spent himself within you five times in consecutive succession.

He truly was beautiful.

“Does that mean you want to do this again?” you asked him while attempting to not show how eager you were. You began taking your time to examine his muscular physique before snapping your eyes back up to his blue orbs. A red hue tinted his cheeks, his eyes darting around the room before rejoining your own.

“I would like to, yes,” Killer admitted at last, sucking in a breath as he anticipated your refusal. Your smile spread up your face, prompting you to immediately spring yourself up to meet his body with your own.

“Crew’s still out for a while,” you shrugged, looking around the crew-quarters you had both tainted with the stains of your aroused fluids, “We should clean this up,” you drew your eyes up to meet his, coy and bashful, “And maybe we could have a bath together-?”

“-Please,” he spoke over you, far too quickly for his liking but too lost to hold back the floodgates of emotional excitement, “Let me bathe with you. I'll wash your hair, massage your body. I'll make sure you're so, so spoiled after all this, if you'll let me?”

A small squeal of joy found its way to your lips, buzzing at the notion that he not only wants to be with you again physically, but he desired to treat you to the luxury of continuing to gawk at his uncovered face further by bathing with you.

“Will you let me?” Killer asked, his voice still holding that eager anticipation that caused you to both melt and soar in unison. You eagerly nodded, prompting Killer to hook his arms beneath you and elevate you into his chest.

Your fingers quickly drew themselves up to his lengthy blonde hair, detangling the sweat-damp strands and toying with the soft curls framing his face. You hummed in contentment as his smile freed itself on his face, glancing at you as you continued enjoying his luscious, thick locks.

“Let's go then,” he cooed down at you, his lips finding your forehead as he cradled you against him, “Let me spoil you for being so good to me. I need to treat you right.”

“Don't forget your mask!” you quickly uttered, causing him to pause and search your face for clarification. You smiled at him, gently reaching your lips up to press against his cheek, “Gotta clean the damn thing, unless you want to experience all that again?”

“Good point,” he huffed, using his feet to kick along his mask to the bathroom as he chaperoned you within his arms, “I prefer my own desire to come from me,” he confessed as soon as he reached the door, “And I want to show you how much I truly do desire you.”

“I can't wait,” you smiled in return, wincing as your body’s adrenaline seeped out of your body and the pain caught up to you.

“I promise I'll be gentle with you,” he confessed, his eyes innocent and brows triangulating in a peak in the center of his forehead, “I won't be rough.”

“I can take a bit of rough treatment,” you challenged him in return, smiling into his bare chest as he began to run the bath.

“I know you can,” he smiled down at you, pressing a small kiss against your temple, “But you don't have to, unless you really want to.”

[wordstome]

What are the dads’ favorite bonding activities with their kids? 🥺

hello friend!!

Price: I like to imagine Price's girls are engaged in all sorts of extracurricular activities from ballet to the school play. I think his favorite bonding activity with them would be taking them out to eat after a recital or a performance. Just his little ladies and some good old greasy spoon diner food: what else could a man want? And you know that when the girls grow up, those nights are going to be some of their fondest childhood memories.

Ghost: Caden is a parallel play kind of kid. He's quietly doing his little crayon drawings next to Simon watching a tv show. I could also see them bonding when Simon takes Caden out to run errands with him, groceries and stuff. Caden gets a bit of socialization, and Simon is there if he gets overwhelmed and needs a bit of comfort. It really brings them together: the kid knows that no matter how distant his dad can be, he can always rely on Simon.

Soap: JOCK ALERT. His favorite bonding activity is taking his kids to the park. Impromptu soccer games, roleplaying on the playground equipment, buying them ice cream on a hot summer day. When Elodie's older, she stops going, preferring to hang out with friends or do her own thing. But I can see wayyyy in the future when she's an adult, she'll have a lot of nostalgia for those days and will love going on walks with her dad.

Gaz: Kyle is a planned activities kind of man, a very take the kids to Disney World and make lifetime memories sorta guy. Every summer the family gets an airbnb by the lake, and every winter they're off at a ski lodge. (Here's to that delicious, delicious dual income household.) Violet and Elliott are always the kids blowing into the first day of class full of stories about all the fun stuff they got up to over the summer.

König: Dress-up. Come on, you knew this was coming. He's so girldad. Ava can't keep her hands out of her dad's luscious locks, and loves making him paper crowns because of his callsign (he definitely speaks German with her at home so she knows what it means). He also buys Ava those big plastic playsets that are a grocery checkout or a little kitchen and roleplays little scenarios with her. Ava's a militant chef, by the way. She would make a great line cook.

Horangi: Concerts with his daughter, Ryujin. Probably a few raves, as well. Ryujin's a punk rock and indie scene kinda gal, but she'll listen to anything, and has a few favorite kpop groups whose concerts she's dragged Hong-jin to. He's a diehard Once (fan of the girl group Twice) himself. They've also definitely gotten a few tattoos/piercings together, which would be an odd thing to do with your dad if Ryujin's dad were not so cool.

Keegan: Same as Johnny, except instead of taking his kids to safe parks and soccer fields, he takes them into the woods. Camping, fishing, teaching them a bunch of useful skills. It's such a "things your divorced dad does with you when he doesn't know what else to do for the weekend you're staying with him" activity, but Jason and Cecelia have never had someone do those things with them before, so they're having a good time. Other than that, laser tag and airsoft is a big one. Keegan was hesitant to get them into stuff like that, but they've always been curious about his military career and things just sort of escalated from there. I saw this tiktok of a cosplayer in a Logan mask captioned "when you're playing airsoft with your 15-year spec ops dad" and it's the cosplayer plastering themselves against a wall in terror: that's Keegan's kids. He's not going to hold back when he plays, and they don't want him to.

[sahonithereadwolf]

I went down another research hole the other night. Y'all might know about "Big Rock Candy Mountain" from O Brother, Where Art Thou...

But it, like most of the songs from that movie comes from a tradition of American folk songs. Big Rock Candy Mountains very specifically this tradition of hobo ballads. And, like setting aside the overtones of American colonialism that purvey all these sort of "there is a dreamland to the west for you to claim" songs, there is a cultural tradition of these. "Life is a struggle but there is a place where it's not if you can find it" is a very human sentiment.

There are plenty of medieval works on Cockaigne, which has a similar kinda tone to it. A land where the harsh realities of a blue collar or peasant class struggle can not exist.

But did you know about the secret gay lyrics of Big Rock Candy Mountain?

After Harry McClintoc recorded his version of this ballad, which he claimed he wrote in 1895 based off the stories he heard as a kid working on the railroad, a bunch of people took him to court because they claimed he stole and took parts of his song from a bunch of other hobo songs in the same traditions. Sweet Potato Mountain, Hobo's Heaven, An Appleknocker's Lament... As part of the court dispute, McClintock was told by the judge to perform the song. As art of the court record we have a last stanza which is not used in the cleaned up version used for records and "reputable venues". This was recorded as:

"The punk rolled up his big blue eyes And said to the jocker, "Sandy, I've hiked and hiked and wandered too, But I ain't seen any candy. I've hiked and hiked till my feet are sore And I'll be damned if I hike any more To be * * * * * * * * In the Big Rock Candy Mountains." Now NO ONE KNOWS what that last lyric is. However we can make some very educated inferences. This is about gay sex.

And it's not like "Big Rock Candy Mountains" is immune to commentary despite the more sanitized versions you'd see later from the likes of Burl Ives.

I'm thinking very specifically: "In The Big Rock Candy Mountains All the cops have wooden legs And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth" and

"In The Big Rock Candy Mountains The jails are made of tin And you can walk right out again As soon as you are in There ain't no short-handle shovels No axes, saws or picks I'm a-goin' to stay where you sleep all day Where they hung the jerk that invented work In The Big Rock Candy Mountains" Going back to the lyrics "The punk rolled up his big blue eyes"

Punk in this context and original use, especially in it's use in hobo culture refers to a younger man or boy being kept for sex and other menial task.

Which, you know, should put a whole new context to see how it's been used against other forms of youth culture. Hippies, greasers, punks,ect. And at least for me makes it's misuse feel even more slapdash and pathetic.

If you doubt this, it is quickly followed up by the term "Jocker" "And said to the jocker, 'Sandy," a slang term of the era referring to an aggressive and usually straight passing dom top, especially in the context of prison.

To be a little flippant, this is a twink grumbling to a daddy.

As I mentioned before, no one actually knows what that missing lyric is. Or at the very least it's never been made public.

But give it's proximity to "sore" and "more" a lot of guess tend to jump to the word "Whore".

Sam Eskin actually interviewed McClintock for Folkway Records and which, when asked about the lyrics said “the ambition of every hobo was to snare some kid to do his begging for him, among other things,”

This is something you see in a lot of early gay panic lit all the way up through the 80's. Especially as the moral authoritarianism of the Hayes code kicked in. But it also found itself in the early pulp lit where queerness could still exist (if behind a little mask and a performative, if dramatic, finger shake)

Queerness and homelessness were intertwined. Still are, both from my own personal experiences and if you look at the statistics. And it's not much of a leap to understand why. ---

But we do have some offered lyrics from other authors: "To be buggered sore like a hobo’s whore,” Is a popular one, which has it's origins from a 2002 folk music site called mudcat and waaaaay too British to read naturally if you ask me.

“And be cornholed till my ass is raw.” is another one you see passed around a lot. Which feels too forum humor.

George Milburn in 1930 offers "To be a homeguard with a lemonade card.” which is naive and sweet to say the least.

The fact is we still don't know this lyric, gay punchline (or at least gay panic) as it might be. All we know is that Big Rock Candy Mountain "Was never meant to be a parlor song" in McClintock's own words.

Well that and the insight it offers into social perceptions of queerness at the time and how it's shaped and shifted in the future.

What do you think this secret gay Big Rock Candy Mountain lyric is?

[thatbigbisexual29]

Big Brother Hobie (Across The Spiderverse)

*hypes self up* Ok! My first fic I’m actually posting on this account! I made this a day after I saw the movie and fell head over heels for these two! Mainly Hobie, but Pavitr is such a gem and I couldn’t not write for him! I hope whoever comes across this enjoys it! And thanks to @gladdygirl18 who helped me out with actually posting this :)

Hobie was the big brother. Everyone can agree on that. Although he was a punk anarchist, he secretly cared for all his friends. Even Miles, who was a new face to the party, he felt extra protective of. But the people he was especially fond of were Pavitr, Gewn, and Peter B. Parker. He let Gwen crash at his place because she couldn’t go back to her own universe, so he took care of her. Plus, they loved to hit and scream their emotions into whatever song they jammed to. Pavitr wanted to be in on the punk rock fun, but he only knew how to play the Sarangi. He was very talented and skilled, but the Sarangi wasn’t the instrument for punk bands. They still let him come to their jam sessions! (Although he did try to hold a therapy session for the two once they were done.)

And just like Gwen, Pavitr liked to crash with Hobie on occasion. Hobie was more than welcome to let anyone stay at his London apartment, as long as they didn’t leave too much of a mess. Who was he kidding though? With all his Spider-Maning he could barely keep tabs on it. Until, the blessed, godsent Pavitr dropped by while he was out and cleaned the whole place for him. Hobie almost shed a tear. And Peter? Honestly, Hobie loved taking care of Mayday. And he loved her name. Peter would never admit it, but he talked about baby names with Hobie one night and that was the result. And he’s just a great babysitter too.

So, collectively, their little spider gang unofficially announced him as the ‘big brother.’ Hobie didn’t mind. It actually made him feel all nice inside. Not that we would tell anyone. Gotta keep that tough bravado, eh? But there were moments with his friends he could be soft. Most recent one was with Pavitr when he portaled in, still in his Spider-Man gear.

“What’s this, then? Just got done running the jig?” Hobie nodded to him as he sat on his couch, legs propped up on his coffee table with a remote in hand. He shut off the tv as Pav groaned and flopped onto the couch, chest in Hobie’s lap. Hobie huffed a chuckle, pulling off his friend’s mask and tossing it to the side. “Rough one, was it?”

Pavitr sighed and nodded, face hidden by a couch cushion. Feeling sympathy for the younger man, Hobie patted his back.

“I’s jus’ watchin’ the telly, want me to turn it back on? Background noise an all,” Hobie suggested, but Pav just shook his head.

“How have you been, Hobie? Everything ok in your universe?” Pavitr asked, turning his head to look at his friend. How the hell is this kid such a sweetheart? Hobie wondered as he reached down and ruffled his perfect hair.

“S’all cuppa ‘ere, nofin I can’t handle. Still coals and coke, but what else is new? S’going ons wit you? Got some pain in your noddy’s?” Hobie nearly barked out a laugh at the offended look Pav gave him. Scratch that, he did laugh.

“Excuse me?” he asked. Hobie chuckled into his fist.

“Do your shoulder’s hurt?” he simplified. Pavitr pushed up onto his hands and once he rotated his shoulders, he groaned and fell right back onto Hobie’s lap.

“Problem found. ‘Ere, lemme getcha.” Hobie sat up and cracked his knuckles, getting into position.

“Oh, Hobie, you don’t have to-” Pav started.

“Ah, hush. I owe you one. Now let your brova ‘Obie take care ‘ya.”

And with that, Hobie got to work, he kneaded his thumbs into Pavitr’s shoulders, smirking with satisfaction at the relieved moan that left Pav’s chest. They sat in silence as Hobie worked out all the knots in Pav’s back, going from his shoulders all the way down his spine. The only responses he got were satisfied grunts, groans, sighs, and hums from Pavitr as he melted into Hobie’s lap. The kid was really stiff. He must’ve been overworkin’ himself, Hobie thought, s’not good. I should tell him to calm it down. Before he could get a word out, he heard a small squeak come from Pavitr’s mouth. He looked over to see Pav with both hands covering his lips with his eyes shut.

“Oi, was funny? You havin’ a bubble at me? I ain’t hurtin’ you, am I?” Hobie asked as he leaned up to get a better view of Pav’s face. He didn’t look like he was in pain. When he peaked his eyes open to look at the older man, they had a happy twinkle to them.

“N-No no! I’m- fihihine! But, your hahands…” Pav looked towards his back. Hobie followed his gaze and realized both of his hands were placed around his sides. A mischievous grin crossed Hobie’s face as his eyes flicked back to Pavitr’s face. Pav looked back at him with an adorable expression that just said “I can’t stop you, but I’m gonna try to look cute so you think about not doing it.” Hobie smirked and pinched the back of Pav’s neck, causing him to squeal and arch his neck back.

“Y’know, s’rude to laugh at your friends, Pav,” Hobie purred close to his friend’s ear. Pavitr let out a string of high pitched giggles and grabbed handfuls of the couch cushions beneath him.

“H-Hobieheehee! Wait wait wait! Lehehet’s talk! Dohohon’t- eek!” Pav snickered then squeaked as the older male skittered his long fingers directly up his spine.

“Nah, don’t fink I will. You need some good, ol’ fashioned, relaxation, mate. And I know exactly how to get you relaxed! So jus let big brova ‘Obie… getcha!” Hobie quickly grabbed Pavitr’s sides and squeezed, drinking in his girlish shriek. He laughed and wiggled his fingers into the slightly pudgy flesh. Pavitr thrashed in his lap but ultimately didn’t move from his spot. Just awkwardly pushed himself up before falling back down and beating the arm of the sofa senseless.

“Hohohohohohohohohohohohobieeeeeeeee! It tihihihihihihickles! It tihihihihihckles so bahahahahahahaaaaaad!” Pav whined through his laughs, alternating which side he scrunched up so he looked like a belly dancer. Hobie let out a loud ‘hah!’ when he saw this.

“Oh yeah, show off ya moves, Pav! Should I get a beat goin’? Unce, unce, unce, unce!” With every beat from his mouth, Hobie would do rhythmic squeezes on Pav’s sides. One, two, one one, two, one, two two. This drove the younger man up the wall (hee hee spiderman joke). Pavitr did his best to fight back. This included weak slapping on Hobie’s hands and futile attempts to crawl away. Hobie simply pulled him closer and tickled his ribs and armpits at the same time, switching between the two.

“AAAAAHAhahahahahaha! Hobieheeheeheeheeheeheehee! Pleheheheehehease!” Pavitr begged. Hobie smirked and scratched his rib bones, earning another girly shriek.

“Please wha, Pav? Please… keep ticklin’ ya? I can do that! Or is it please… tickle somewhere else? How about… here!” In a swift motion, Hobie moved his hands from his upper body to the back of his quads, making claws and digging into the flesh. Pavitr screamed and his thrashing renewed.

“Oh, has I found a tickle spot? Right under your buttocks, yea? Mate, that’s kinda embarrassin’. I ain’t one t’judge though. It's hilarious how much you’re tryin’ ta fight me, kiddo. Was it people say when they tickle kids? Oh, roight. Tic-kle tic-kle tic-kle~” Hobie grinned like the Cheshire cat as Pavitr lost his mind. Finally, Pavitr rolled off of Hobie’s lap and crashed to the ground, reflexively thwipping both of Hobie’s hands together.

“O-Ohohokay that's enohohough! I’m relahahaxed! No mohohohore plehehehehease!” Pavitr giggled out, lying flat on his back and sighing once the tickling was finally over. Hobie laughed and fished his pocket knife from his jacket, slicing the webbing from his hands. He tossed the knife on his coffee table and leaned over Pavitr without moving from his couch.

“You alright, yea?” he asked. With a few giggly breaths, Pav nodded. “Good. If I had killed ya, Gwendie would have killed me. ‘N ah don wan that. But seriously, mate, gotta go easy on the Spider-Man work, you feel me? ‘S why you’re so tense. If you keep dat up, y’won’t be able to move. You get what I’m sayin’, yeah? You’ve got an honest jam tart, an das good, just don’t be over usin’ it,” Hobie instructed. He could tell Pav was listening, which was good, but the younger man did cock his eyebrow at the last sentence.

“But… I don’t have a jam tart…?” he said with confusion, looking around to see if he had accidentally brought something jelly filled from his dimension. Hobie snickered then laughed, holding his stomach.

“You are way too funny, man. Go take a shower, you smell.”

“Not as bad as you…” Pavitr mumbled, immediately bolting for Hobie’s bathroom.

“Oi, the nerve of ya! Get back here, ya hooligan bastard!” Hobie was up in a flash, thwipping Pavitr to the floor.

Needless to say, Pavitr got another good taste of what having an older brother is like. And Hobie got to mess around with a best friend. He could get used to being the big brother every now and again.

[milf-harrington]

For the made-up fic title prompt:

"Just another normal doomsday"

♡

Just Another Normal Doomsday

Hawkins, 1987.

"I'm just saying, punk rock gay sex is different to hippy gay sex."

"How?"

Robin shrugged, stirring her straw through her milkshake before lifting the whole cup to her mouth to drink it. "It's sexier."

She was sitting with her legs crossed underneath her, back leaning against the bus window so she could face where he was sitting across the aisle. The bus was pleasantly dim, but watery sunlight streamed through a gap on her side and bathed her face in blue shadows while her hair lit up with bronze at the ends.

Steve snorted, leaning sideways with one leg stretched over the aisle, muddy sneaker propped up on the edge of Robin's bench. A cardboard tray filled with chips was nestled in his lap, the corners darkened with grease and grainy with salt.

"You're just saying that because your parents are hippies."

From Steve's backpack, their walkie (one they shared, with masking tape scribbled over in colourful markers stuck to the back, their names written in each others handwriting) crackled to life, codes carried out in a cloud of static that made them both sigh in unison.

Robin burped, dropping her empty milkshake cup back into the bag their food had come in. "No," She protested, milk lining her upper lip before she wiped it away. "I'm saying it because it's true."

"They're both gay!"

"But being punk rock is gayer!"

He flicked a chip crumb at her when she reached for her bag, watching it dodge her flailing attempts at a block and get stuck in her hair. "I'm telling Eddie you called him gay."

She blinked at him, face scrunched up in the same expression she used to give him whenever he opened his mouth at Scoops. "Eddie is gay, and I'm telling him that you called him punk rock-"

Something outside shrieked, high and rattling like broken glass against a sheet of metal. They shared a look like the ones they used to share at Family Video, when customers were being unreasonable and they couldn't say anything about it or they'd get fired.

Steve leaned down to grab his bat from the floor, wiping the grease off of his hands onto his jeans as Robin stood and stretched. There was still a deep purple bruise tucked into the inner corner of her eye from a demo-bat attack on patrol a few days ago, and Steve felt the matching one on his shoulder twinge when he hauled the nail-bat over it.

"He won't do anything," He told her, stepping in front to take the lead as they moved towards the front of the bus. The windows were still sloppily boarded up from a night that felt like a hundred years ago, just Steve and a bunch of kids who were in over their head. "I call him punk all the time, I think he's grown immune to it."

They stopped at the door, Robin squeezing past to stand on the other side, where the controls were. They stayed quiet, peering through the dirty glass to get a grasp of the how many and where. Dustin's code said three, but they'd been wrong before.

"Yeah, but if he hears you've been spreading that around?" Robin whispered, reaching behind her to wrap bandaged fingers around the lever. She whistled low, mostly breath, and Steve rolled his eyes. "You won't have to worry about demodogs, is all I'm saying."

"Yeah, yeah." He muttered, tightening his grip on the bat as the door shuttered open and a gust of warm air hit his face.

He crept outside, second-hand work boots crunching lightly on the gravel as he listened to Robin hurry up the ladder to the roof. She was going to yell directions and throw molotov cocktails while he did the actual hard shit. Technically the lookout part was supposed to be Eddie's job, and Robin was meant to be at Steve's back with her axe, but apparently they were at a crucial stage of the campaign and he "couldn't miss it".

Part of Steve hoped he'd get eaten, if only to get his boyfriend to reorganise his priorities a bit.

A half hour later, Steve leaned against the side of the bus, sweaty and panting while Robin offered him her water-bottle. She reeked of cheap alcohol and the sharp smell of burning, glittering shards of glass caught in her fringe. Gore dripped from the nails in his bat, and one of the dogs had gotten a good swipe at his shin, but he remained mostly un-grievously-injured. He still hurt everywhere though, body complaining about all the diving over and around and behind random bits of junk and machinery.

"Metal gay sex is probably gayer than punk rock gay sex." He decided, and Robin hummed thoughtfully.

"You'd know."

He shrugged, tilting his head with an ehh. "I've never slept with a punk so I can't be sure, but you've met Eddie."

"I have indeed. Speaking of- are we having dinner at Wayne's tonight?"

Steve groaned - not in complaint, it's just that his everything hurt and he'd forgotten about their dinner plans - and ran a hand through his hair. It was greasy and damp with sweat and monster blood. Overhead, a flock of demobats shrieked and weaved among each other, not bothering with the two of them as they headed off towards the quarry.

"Yeah, I said we'd pick up mince for that chuck-in he makes, but that was before the butcher got eaten this morning and I don't think Melvald's is open today."

Robin sighed, scooping up her bag and shrugging it over her shoulder. She held out a hand, fingers spread and wiggling expectantly, and he grinned as he clasped their hands together.

The headed off towards the tracks, a short-cut to the trailer park, and swung their hands back and forth between them.

"I could make that pasta my mum taught me?" Robin offered. "Pretty sure the Munson's will have all of that."

He groaned, this time in delight, and swung their hands a bit higher like a kid on the swings excited to touch the clouds. "God yes, please."

[punkeropercyjackson]

Bluepunk(Familial Hobie and Percy)headcanons

Percy is an afro-dominican third gen inmigrant New Yorker and Hobie is jamaican-english and was born and raised in Camden Town

Percy is transfem bigender and uses she/he/they and a hoard of neos(including blue/blues,sea/seas and cookie/cookies ofc)and Hobie is transmasc unlabeled and dosen't care about pronouns as long as you switch up instead of staying consistent

They're autistic and can't mask and have never been able to and are on the same ends of the spectrum even besides that

They even look almost the exact same too with the only real differences-which aren't even easy to tell-is Percy's sea green eyes and Hobie's dark brown eyes and Hobie's 6'5 to Percy's 6'4.Percy's got dreads and different kinds of piercings but Hobie's wicks being a similar hairstyle dosen't help in telling them apart at all

This,in addition to many other things,is because they're Variants of eachother the same way Gwen and Gayatri are!Percy is Earth 27 Spiderpunk and not relevant rn but Earth 137 Hobie is the Son of Poseidon

Percy is 22 and Hobie's a good deal younger and that with the rest of the Spiderband being explicitly teenagers means Spidermomdad Percy.He's close to the whole team and is their mentor but Hobie and him met eachother first so they have a special connection and i was gonna say something about Percy being like Hobie's weird ass uncle but then i remembered Hobie's a Spiderperson so i shan't risk it

Similarly to Miles and Miles G,this bond leads to them becoming interdimensional siblings despite technically being Variants.Eldest sister and oldest younger brother typa energy

Hobie has adultification trauma through a mix of shitty older brothers,no positive adult figures as a kid except his mom who due to complex circumstances couldn't help him as much as either of them wanted to and dissapeared when he was 12(not dead btw but he thinks she is),his deadbeat dad and the dystopian world he origins from and Percy's Canon Event was Sally dying when he was 12 too so that left him with Smelly Gabe and 7 year old Nico and 6 year old Hazel leaving him no choice but to self-parentify for survival and protection of his younger siblings so they balance out by Percy giving Hobie special treatment and encouraging him to be vulnerable and he gets her to feel 22,not 32 by bringing her goofy and emotional sides back out rather than just fake unbotheredness on both sides

Hobie is Peter Pan,Percy is Wendy(Matching names + I do not care for Peter and Wendy as a romantic ship)and Percy is Perseo,Hobie is Perseus(iykyk)

Hobie teaches Percy how to play guitar and hers is covered in cutesy stickers,ranging from cat themed motivational ones to video game ones and ovbs the dominican and trans flags too

Percy taught him how to surf and Hobie's surfboard is an almost black blue with white shark designs.They have diy'd matching Spiderpunk themed swimsuits that blend in through superhero logic

They have the same taste in music-Punk rock obvs but also heavy metal,rap,hipop and jazz

Hobie loves leaning onto Percy/having his arms hung around her shoulders from behind and her head tucked under his chin/holding hands with her/etc.Love is stored in the Hobie <3

Percy learned to make jamaican food but in blue to make Hobie eat it since her latina pseudo-mom ass wouldn't stand for him staying that scrawny and half dead looking(Nico flashbacks though).His favorite kind is it's sea food

I am just.Keep picturing Percy giving Hobie a big sisterly smooch on his forehead and him walking around with a blue lipstick mark on it

Hobie does the same back but his lipstick is black

Girlypop Percy,Edgecase Hobie.Solidarity and bonding and sharing

Percy has a Gwen Stacy Variant who's Ghostspider and Earth 27's Anomaly because of this and his childhood best friend who's afrolatina and autistic like him and pastel punk like 65 Gwen but dosen't share a namesake with her!They're officially together for a long time by Atsv and Hobie pokes fun at him over them all the time even pre actual meeting

They love fucking with Miguel together and Percy in particular gets on his nerves since she encouraged Hobie to even more and taught him new ways to.Lyla has a whole photo album of them pissing him off and Jessica only pretends to try to stop them because she also thinks it's hilarious.She hangs out with them whenever they can all find time to too!!!She brought Percy into Spider Society and she reminds her of Sally :')

Spidermutt and Mrs O'Leary have playdates

They're pretty much unoficially mission partners and Riri hacked their watches so they give false info to Miguel's database

Hobie calls Percy 'Sea Wees' like the kinds of mermaid dolls and Percy calls Hobie 'Cachorro' because it's spanish for Puppy(If y'all make nsfw jokes about this I Will Fucking Get You,i call my littlest brother that)

[nakunatta-fujihana]

Yuu Fujisaki ─ An Abridged Biography

─BASIC

FULL NAME: Yuu Fujisaki (藤咲、夕)

BIRTHDAY: January 28th (Aquarius)

AGE: 18 (By the start of Twst)

HEIGHT: 173 cm

DOMINANT HAND: Ambidextrous

HOMELAND: Tokyo, Japan

GRADE/CLASS: Freshman/Class A (No. 8)

CLUB: Gourmet Club/Light Music Club (Unnoficial)

BEST SUBJECT: History of Magic

HOBBIES: Writing

PET-PEEVES: Responsibility

FAVORITE FOOD: Anything sweet

LEAST FAVORITE FOOD: Nattou

TALENT: Song-writing

─FAMILY

Hiroshi Fujisaki (藤咲、寛) (Paternal Great Uncle/Deceased)

Nagisa Fujisaki (藤咲、凪咲) ( Paternal Grandfather)

Aya Fujisaki (藤咲、あや) (Paternal Grandmother)

Ataru Fujisaki （藤咲、陽） (Father)

Kanna Fujisaki（藤咲、環花）(Mother)

Kotonoha Fujisaki (藤咲、言葉) (Older sister-6 years apart)

Izumi Fujisaki (藤咲、いずみ) (Future brother-in-law)

Nagihko Fujisaki (藤咲、凪彦) (Paternal cousin-3 years apart)

Kamui Fujisaki (Paternal Uncle) （藤咲、奏紫）

─EXTRA

GENDER | PRONOUNS: Cis Male | He/Him

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Homosexual

HAIR COLOR: Indigo

HAIR TEXTURE: 2A

EYE COLOR: Mauve

SPECIES: Human

RACE: East Asian

REALM OF ORIGIN: Earth

NATIONALITY: Japanese

AURA: Purple/Blue

SIGNATURE SCENT: Eucalyptus and Lavender

FAVORITE FLOWER: Orange Blossoms

MBTI: INFJ

FASHION SENSE: Japanese Mode/Casual Punk

NICKNAMES: 

Shrimpy

Wiz kid

Yuu-yuu

Fujisaki Shintarō IV (Stagename)

OCCUPATIONS:

Clinical Psychology Student

Onnagata

Musician

Ramshackle Dorm Prefect

CONDITIONS:

Chronic Bad Luck: No matter how hard Yuu tries to stay out of trouble, he seems to always encounter something to ruin his day. At this point, he is used to his life being the embodiment of Murphy’s Law.

Aphantasia: Yuu has a rare disorder in which he cannot picture things inside his mind. The only exception to this are the dreams he has during his stay at Twisted Wonderland. This makes him completely useless with drawing, painting or any visual art endeavor.

Dust Mite Allergy: Yuu is severely allergic to dust, if exposed to too much of it he can even end up bedridden or trigger an asthma attack.

Nicotine Addiction: Yuu sometimes smokes as a way to relieve stress, and though he does not do it often, he is still in need of at least a cig a week.

ABILITIES:

Renaissance Man: Yuu is naturally gifted. Even though he could’ve skipped multiple grades and entered university at a rather young age, Yuu’s parents opted to only let him skip one grade so he would learn to socialize with children his age. This often led to him skipping class and playing hooky out of sheer boredom.

Musical Experience: After being coerced into his crush’s Light Music Club in High School, Yuu has gained a liking to music─ Yuu is now very proficient in both bass, guitar and singing.

Spirit sight and communication: due to a near-death experience, Yuu has been granted the ability to see and interact with spirits.

Kabuki Training: Yuu was raised to succeed his grandfather as the heir of their Kabuki Troupe and school from a very young age. Due to this fact, he is classically trained in acting, Nihon Buyo, flower arrangement, calligraphy and Shamisen.

─TRIVIA

Yuu’s voice claim is based on vibes and vibes only. He is a mix in between SymaG, Kanseru, Araki and Megatara Zero

Yuu’s favorite artists are Gorillaz, The Oral Cigarettes, Kenshi Yonezu and 9mm Parabellum Bullet.

Yuu is a clean freak, he cannot concentrate if the space he inhabits is dirty or not in order.

On earth, Yuu is part of a relatively popular indie rock band named Schrödinger, he uses a mask and an alias to keep his identity hidden from fans.

Yuu’s favorite anime and manga series is Mob Psycho 100 and Chainsaw Man.

Yuu is a practicing shintoist and extremely supersticious.

─STATS

STRENGTH: ★★☆☆☆

STAMINA: ★★★☆☆

DEFENSE: ★★★★☆

DEXTERITY: ★★★★★

INTELLIGENCE: ★★★★★ +2

WISDOM: ★★★★☆

MAGIC: N/A

VITALITY: ★☆☆☆☆

STEALTH: ★★★☆☆

LUCK: ☆☆☆☆☆

ACCURACY: ★★★★★

SPEED: ★★☆☆☆

[mklegends-smokescreen]

MK Legends: Blood Bound

Chapter 10: Truths and lies

Our group would finally make it to the palace. The guards let them through. As they got closer, Amara would whisper to Nico. Her voice was stern. Her words were harsh, as if they were meant to be a threat.

MUCHACHA: Listen, when we get in there, I'll do the talking and you shut up.

ROBIN: How about you stay on the sidelines, doing your actual job, which is protecting those who can't themselves, in this case, the boy?

MUCHACHA: I am sorry, Robin, I truly am. But he must stand trial for what he's done.

Nico's tone shifted, from being a sarcastic asshole tone, to a genuine, concerned one. His eyebrows lowered, and his frown became more obvious. He looked back at the general, with a look of concern, and maybe even sadness.

ROBIN: What does he have to be put on trial for? He looks barely 18, and he looks like he's seen some shit.

KOUNTERFEIT: I would like a word.

MUCHACHA: Zip it, boy, unless you'd like a knife in your leg. We're talking.

ROBIN: Look, see? That's exactly what I'm talking about. You need anger management lessons.

MUCHACHA: Well, my anger management is shoving swords into bastards--

Before she could finish, Sabbia would make a wall between the two, pushing them away from each other.

SABBIA: Yeah, I am going to be the only voice of reason here and say absolutely not.

ROBIN: Oh, shut up, Jason Statham, we don't need therapy from you. The writer does that for us already.

Sabbia, not knowing what he's talking about, looks a bit confused, and turns to Amara, who is a bit confused as well.

MUCHACHA: Well, if your "author" is doing that, then why are we still arguing like idiots?

The caped crusader extended his hand out to the general with a light smile, and she looked back at him as she did the same. Then, the two shook hands. Nico looked at Sabbia, who put his hand on the two before him to do the legendary "three-way handshake".

ROBIN: Well, I suppose this could work. Now, let's take this kid to the kahn-- and he's gone.

Robin pointed his finger in front of him, to the entrance, to show the kid was not there. As Sabbia and Muchacha looked around, Nico started running out of the palace. After a few seconds, he was out in the market, standing in front of Erron Black.

ERRON: So, you gotta be this blood bender I kept hearin' 'bout. 

ROBIN: ERRON! Whatever you're gonna do now, DON'T!

The gunslinger looked up at the caped crusader. He responded with a simple chuckle.

ERRON: Well, if it ain't the flushed goldfish.

Nico, a bit pissed from the comment, responds.

ROBIN: Firstly: Rude. Secondly: Don't touch this kid. He didn't do anything... on purpose. I hope.

Erron, ignoring his plea, walked up to the boy. He was a bit shorter, so the boy had to look up. The gunslinger reached his hand for the gun that he wore. But before he could pull it out, Nico threw a rock at the gunslinger, so that the blood bender could get away for a bit. Could've used your daggers which are more versatile, but whatever. Erron, angered, took a gun out. The blood mage was cornered. Erron Black took his revolver, and pointed it at the caped crusader.

ERRON: Alright, punk. You wanna be a puddle? Be my guest.

ROBIN: Hey, captain fang-face, double team?

He turns to see Muchacha and Sabbia helping the kid get away.

MUCHACHA: Hell nah, you're on your own now, pal.

SABBIA: Sorry, bud, but you're the one that wanted a fight, so now you've got one. Let me know if you lived though.

ROBIN: You've gotta be fffu--

He didn't finish his sentence. Instead, as he turned, he took a bullet to the other half of his mask. While the gunfire scared the outworlders and the bullet should have spilled Robin's brains on the floor, this time slightly denting the mask, proofing that Muchacha's cranium is mightier than the gun.

ROBIN:

ERRON:

ROBIN: 

ERRON: How.

ROBIN: Two words: Lazy. Wri--

Erron would shoot at the head, with Nico turning his head as he was yapping, the bullet once again bouncing off the mask.

ROBIN: Aight, Marty Robbins, that does it!

The crusader jumped forward and tried to punch Erron, who ducked under the blow and kicked the crusader in the stomach. He would grab him by the cape, and throw him into a building and walk away IN the direction in which the three idiots went.

ROBIN: God.. that is such lazy writing...

The crusader slowly got up, and followed Erron as fast as he could with a few shattered ribs. As the gunslinger walked into the alley, the boy was nowhere to be seen, and instead, Sabbia was sitting on a barrel, drinking some beer.

ERRON: Where the hell did that little shit go?

SABBIA: Oh, he ran away with the girl. I just sat here, enjoying my drink.

Erron, not liking this answer, walks up to the serpent with malicious intent, and he walks up to the snake with a gun at his head.

ERRON: I won't ask twice. Where, the fuck, are they?

SABBIA: Oh please, Erron. You and I both know you wont kill me. I've read a handful of books in my time and in those books, I've realized that a new character never dies first.

As he's saying that, he's forming a big pile of sand right behind Erron, without him noticing. As the gunslinger's patience is running thin, he's getting angrier.

ERRON: Listen, you fucking bastard. I've got no patients for you, so tell me.

Sabbia is quick to respond with a quip that feels like it's straight out of a Jason Statham film.

SABBIA: Well, Erron, before you do pull the trigger, do you remember the three things that slip through fingers if you try to hold them?

ERRON: What the fuck are you on about?

SABBIA: I'm talking about water, blood...

Erron finally turned around, to notice a big pile of sand right above his head.

SABBIA: ...And sand.

Sabbia would drop the sand on Erron, causing him to try and dig back. Muchacha and Kounderfeit see this happen from a window and get away. Sabbia drops into the sand, escaping and returning to the group.

MUCHACHA: Nice job, Sabbia.

SABBIA: Thank you.

They all look back at Erron, who was still trying to dig out of the pile of sand.

KOUNTERFEIT: We should run?

MUCHACHA & SABBIA: We should run.

They would all run in the opposite direction, away from the gunslinger. They were all in a room. The three looked at each other, and the boy looked up at them. Muchacha took a knee, and looked the boy straight in the eyes, and sighs and looks away emediately.

MUCHACHA: What am I doing? This is ridiculous. I was just doing my job to protect the khan from a boy who can't even control his powers and now I'm protecting said boy from the only gunslinger in all of Outworld.

Erron then kicks down the door entering the room.

ERRON: And the best one there is.

Sabbia would then turn to Erron, saying two things.

SABBIA: Okay, firstly, doesn't being the only gunslinger make you the best by default? But also- HOW DID YOU GET OUT SO FAST?!

Erron then shoots Sabbia in the leg, knocking him to the ground as he groans in pain.

ERRON: I have my own ways. Now then, general, the blood mage. If you won't hand him over, then you're gonna pay.

Sabbia looked down at the bleeding wound on his leg, and then turned his head to Muchacha, nodding at her.

MUCHACHA: Well, if you want to get to him... 

She says as she draws her sword.

MUCHACHA: ...Then you're gonna have to get past me.

Muchacha then runs towards Erron, and swings her sword, which the gunslinger quickly dodges.

ERRON: Alright, missy. If you're gonna be difficult, then I guess I'll have to shoot ya down too.

She turns to him, and as she swings at random, Erron shoots his gun and on complete accident, she splits the bullet in half.

ERRON: What the hell?

As Amara runs to him, he counters by kicking her in the stomach (god, I swear, boots are her cryptonite or some shit) and knocks her back. 

ERRON: Times up, kiddo.

As the Night Rider turned to the gunslinger, and the Gunslinger removed the mask of the boy, he saw something strange... himself. He stepped back, in complete shock.

ERRON: What the...

Before the gunslinger could finish his sentence, a fist collided with his jaw. The child's face resembled his and one of another character we'll get to later. He looked around, seeing everyone knocked out, not knowing what to do, but one thing.

ERRON: Look kid, I know I might have caused you some more trauma, but you gotta come with me. The Kahn will never know, promise.

The boy, while scared, nodded and took Erron's hand and escaped through another exit, while Robin finally came back and noticed that Amara and Sabbia were on the ground, possibly dead. Outworld guardsmen then walk in, and Nico falls to the ground, as the guardsmen take them to the nearest medic. After what seemed like hours, Robin woke up in a bed, seeing Amara and Sabbia nearby. He got up, and went to the door. 

ROBIN: Oh god... well at least my ribs feel less like rubber.

As he was walking out, he bumped into Kitana Kahn. She looked at the caped crusader, and sighed, walking away. He did a double take, and ran after her.

ROBIN: Uh... hello, Kitana. I just wanted to thank you for sending your guardsmen after me.

KITANA: You know, I was certain you wouldn't mess this up, and you return with  an injured general and a Saurian that was shot in the leg.

ROBIN: Okay, listen, it was going smoothly and then it wasn't.

KITANA: Yeah, no kidding. I don't care what happens. You failed me, Nico. And now, you, the general and the saurian will report when they wake up, and get out of my sight.

She left, leaving Nico there. He looked around, seeing Sabbia and Amara wake up.

SABBIA: What a nice sleep... Wait, why are we in a room together?

MUCHACHA: The boy... Did you see where he went?

Nico sighs, knowing he can't lie.

ROBIN: No, Erron got away and now the Kahn says I gotta report and gtfo.

Muchacha sighed and walked out of the room, with the others following. He looked to the left, and the right, and sighed. they stood infront of the Kitana, Mileena and Rain, all three kneeling.

KITANA: So, what have you to say for yourself, Muchacha?

MUCHACHA: Well, your highness, the Blood bender has escaped. We tried to fight him off, but we were outnumbered.

Robin raised an eyebrow, knowing fully this isn't what happened, but not saying a word.

KITANA: Very well. Nico, Sabbia and Amara, you are excused. Leave us, and don't let me see you again.

ROBIN: Yes, your highness.

The three walk out, and Robin, knowing what's happening, consults Muchacha.

ROBIN: I know you lied, what really happened?

MUCHACHA: I'd rather not say, Nico.

She turned her head, not looking Robin in the eye. Sabbia and Robin looked at each other, and Nico grabbed her, making sure she didn't walk away.

ROBIN: Amara, tell me what happened.

Amara sighed, knowing he won't let her go until she says.

MUCHACHA: Erron happened. He took the kid, I don't know where. But right now, that's not my concern, what is, it’s getting away from you.

As she said that, a machine flew in, and Nico knew this was his ride home.

SABBIA: Well, guessin’ this is goodbye, Robin.

ROBIN: Guess so. And before I go, next time I come back, you can call me Nico. Nico Ghai.

MUCHACHA: You never told me your name.

ROBIN: Sorry, can’t talk now, got a flight to catch. Byyyyyyeeeeee–

He said as he went closer to the hovercraft, with the door closing and taking off. Sabbia would walk away, going away from the general and waving goodbye to the general, who would salute the saurian, showing her respect.

Meanwhile… At the Black Dragon base

Erron and the blood bender would arrive at the Black Dragon base, where Kano and Skarlet would stand at the door.

KANO: Erron.

ERRON: Kano.

KANO: What brings you here?

ERRON: Child.

He says, as the Night Rider walks out in front of the Aussie and Blood mage.

KANO: And why have you brought him here?

ERRON: I’m not built to be a father. You two on the other hand have experience with parenting. Why he looks like me and Red, I have no clue, don’t ask me.

Kano and Skarlet look at eachother, shrugging, and accepting the boy as if he were their own.

KANO: Alright, Erron. Thanks. Now leave. I don’t appreciate you here.

ERRON: Well I don't like your voice. Anyways, see ya never, ‘wanka’.

He said as he mounted his steed and went back the way he came from. As he rode off into the sunset, the three would walk in and welcome him to the klan. As they’re walking, Skarlet notices something on the mask that hangs off the boy's belt. A label that she knows she saw before, but she brushes it off, as probably a coincidence.and they keep on walking all the way to Billie’s room to introduce her to her so-so brother.

SIRIS: So, what you’re sayin’ is, he’s gonna be with us?

KANO: Yes. And I hope you two get along nicely.

SIRIS: Well, I’m cool with that.

SKARLET: I’ve thought of the name Tomek for him, but you always call him Tom for short.

And so, with that, they showed Tom around and introduced him to the other members, and took him to his room just in time for the sun to fully set.

[izzymeadows]

Okay i've given myself about 24 hours to calm down but i just need to SCREAM about how PERFECTLY PUNK FUCKING HOBIE BROWN IS

LIKE

I WANT TO MARRY HIM BUT OTOH I DON'T WANT TO MARRY HIM BECAUSE I'M INSPIRED TO ABOLISH THE INSTITUTION OF MARRIAGE

*aham*

No but. You don't understand. He's even ANIMATED in a SLIGHTLY DIFFERENT PACE than the other characters (an explanation) because he goes his own way becAUSE HE IS A REBEL AND I LOVE HIM

Okay i'm gonna stop screaming now because i'm giving myself a headache rereading this, but goddamnit this guy is fucking amazing.

Look, he absolutely rocks the aesthetic and his mask is magical because how the fuck does his wonderful huge hair fit in there, and he looks super powerful and amazing, but the think that makes him PUNK. Is his deep understanding of what being anti-system means.

Punk philosophy has basically (very basically) three "rules": individual freedom, DIY and anti-establishment views.

Hobie HELPS. The first thing he does after coming in scene? Giving Miles advice. Which he repeated after, in the exact moment Miles needed it.

Hobie's in the Spider Society, but he absolutely doesn't agree with Miguel's methods and most likely, with his idea of how to deal with the whole multiverse anomaly and canon events stuff. He knows he's gonna end up leaving, and when the Society fucks up, somebody's gonna have to fix it, because Hobie knows damn well that the Society in general and Miguel in particular ARE gonna fuck up.

And then they fuck up. With Miles. And then Hobie just helps him get free of the laser cage and doesn't join the chase, because he's not gonna target a kid who just wants his dad to fucking survive, you know?

Remember the anti-establishment views? This is it. Reject dogma, question everything. Being anti-system is, first and foremost, about not uncritically adopting the system's (system here being the Spider Society) beliefs of what's right and wrong and what needs to be done. Hobie knows the system and started his own path to fix the problems his own way before leaving (ie we see him take stuff from the hq and at first it looks like just a quirky behavior, but then we see he made Gwen's new watch with that stuff).

And! He trusts Gwen so much! He knew she would eventually come around and sent her the watch in advance! He's like a big brother menthor to the other teens, he lets Gwen stay with him when she needs it, he gives Miles advice, his dynamic with Pavitr is so real too. And that. Is So Punk. Because yes, punk is a lot about being your own individual, but that doesn't mean being selfish, that means being true to yourself, AND a lot of the time, being punk also means helping others be true to themselves. Hobie is an instigator and that's his way to help his friends be themselves.

*sigh* i just love him so much

[luxxtuxx]

'Get Some Rest, My Little Rockstar'

Hobie + Child!Reader THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE, I also cried writing this (multiple times) TW: Character death ANYWAYS ENJOY!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was supposed to be a normal day in hobies universe swinging around doing patrol, then a villain struck tearing apart a building. He managed to save a lot of people, but something felt off when he was pulling the last man out of the rubble, his spidey senses were tingling. He followed them. The stronger they got, the more he could hear it. A baby sobbing and screaming. He pushed a large chunk of rubble away to find a little baby in a carrier thrashing around.

He picked up the baby and gently rocked it. "Hey, little rockstar. Dont cry, ill be okay I promise. Spider-Punk has got you" He picked up the carrier and carefully walked out of the rubble. The first thing he did was take you to the hospital to make sure that this little baby was okay. the hospital said that either hobie could keep you or register you into the foster system. Hobie took you with him, he took some cash he had stocked away out. He looked at you, you were gonna be the only thing in his life he wanted consistency of. "C'mon rock star! Let's go find you some punk clothes."

Now, hobie wasn't the type to enjoy dressing up, but finding little baby punk clothes to put you in warmed his heart. You were his pride and joy now. A few months later your first word was 'punk' and after learning a few more words, hobie was called 'papa punk'

You grew up like a chaotically smart devil. Hobie constantly encouraged you to try things, you weren’t a spider person, but HQ loved having you around. Hobie enjoyed watching you try everything, and not stand by and be a cookie-cutter kid. You were allowed to wear whatever you wanted and do what you wanted (Within reason)

By the time you were 8, you had earned a black belt in karate, you could play your mini electric guitar pretty well, had been kicked out of 3 different schools for starting fights, and you could read just under 200 words per minute, and you had a secret cat that Hobie hasn’t found out about for 2 months. People thought that hobies yes as much as possible method would you into a monster, but it didn't you were often extremely kind and well versed in etiquette.

Hobie loved rocking out with you, he enjoyed time with you. He was a classic dad at times, making fun of you in front of your friends, or trying to embarrass you in front of your crush. Watching you grow up was his favorite thing in the whole world... Until 4 years later, an anomaly villain reached his universe, you were doing as you normally did helping old people and little kids evacuate the area. Hobie and then the entire squad including Miguel were helping out. Then it happened, a torn-up pipe the villain had thrown slashed a large cut through your side. Hobie heard you scream and immediately ditched the group to run to you, run to his kid, his pride and joy.

You fell down not having the strength to stand, he caught you in time, "Hey kid, cmon keep them eyes open okay? Im gonna get you to HQ and the nurses are gonna heal you up. hold still." he tried to lift you carefully, he sat you back on the ground after he heard you scream in pain, "Kid, I can't lose you, Stay awake" you weakly pull his mask up, wanting to see his face one last time. "Papa punk, You lived 20 years without me, I'm sure you can do it again" Hobie teared up and hugged you close "Im not gonna let you die." "Hey Dad, can I ask you somethings before I go??" his heart shattered. "Yeah, kid, anything"... he pulled away and kissed your forehead "At any point, even for a second....Did I make you proud?" that question made hobies heart hurt so bad "Every single second of every day you were in my life I was proud of you." you nod. "I don't want to go to Valhalla looking like a loser.... can I borrow your leather jacket for a bit?" hobie took off the jacket and slipped it on you. "Papa punk?" he stares at you, "Smile, I'm your canon event. Events are meant to be fun. Smile once last time for me papa" Hobie forced a weak smile at his child's request, ignoring the tears slipping out of his eyes. "Papa don't cry... You'll ruin your eyeliner" You laugh weakly and hobie smiles a small bit at your laugh... "Im sure you are tired kiddo" he kissed your forehead again as the last breath slipped from your lips

"Get Some Rest, My Little RockStar"

Bonus: Hobie had you cremated and put your ashes in a bunch of resin art so he could walk around his boat and you'd be there with him. He keeps a necklace on him with your ashes inside, every mission he completes. he kisses the small vial and say 'we won'. He still plays the guitar, mostly your favorite songs with a guitar pick he had you paint him when you were little. He made sure you were never alone. He missed you so much, and on the anniversary of your death he didn't take any missions he just sat home and talked out loud about all the amazing things you've missed in the past year, in his mind believing you could hear him.

[monpalace]

IM BACKK MY LITTLE FANFIC DEVIL >:3 With a new Idea too!! Hope you enjoy it!

Warriors x Punk! Magic user Musician! (Will call them 'Punk' for now!)

Reader/Punk has developed a fighting style that utilizes music! Its very much canon that music in the Zelda Universe is very powerful, so it makes sense for a character to find a way to semi weaponize such a thing. The magic itself is a mix of Siren vibes (both vocally and instruments) but also like a Bard, if that makes sense!

Punk met Wars during the Era of Ages, being a compainon and fighter to the captain! Punk's main 'weapon' is a sick ass guitar, which at first just seems like a normal guitar but once Punk starts playing its like the instrument sparks to life and holds a whole new aura to it. They also, very obviously wear more punk based outfits (including a battle torn, pathed filled leather jacket and heavy ass combat boots.

At first, Wars is VERY confused on Punk's ability to fight and how they seem to whip out a hoard of monsters with a simple rift of their guitar but once he is actually on the battle field with them he finally gets to see them in action! And well...Let's just say the captain got a few new -small- scars because he was...'distracted' >:3

THEY ARE TOTALLY THE 'preppy jock x punk' DYAMNIC AND ITS SO MMMMMM

(going more indepth into the war of era's)

Punk def met young Wind and Time (aka mask) and they two ADMIRED the musician so much! Both would rather die than admit it but they totally did--

Wind totally shared/taught Punk a few sea shanties and Punk would then remix them into punk rock vibes! Normally it would be a quiet little exchange when the young pirate couldn't sleep, and the punk was already awake -trying to come up with new ways/spells for their magic- where they both got to show their love for music!

Mask and Punk also had something similar but Mask wouldn't show Punk any of the powerful songs he knew until he trusted them 1000%-

The day Punk was taught the Song of Storms was the day Warriors knew he was in some deeeeppp shit if Punk was to ever switch sides dhsajhfka

ALSO The two were also the biggest little shits as they had tried time and time again to get the two (Punk and Wars) into a relationship! Butttt considering there was a literal WAR going on, neither of them were too focused on getting into a relationship-- even if there were some romantic tension between them >:)

But when the war finally ended and everyone was sent home, Punk didn't want the kids to leave without something to remember the them and Wars by. So, Punk gave Wind a -little too big- leather jacket while Mask/Time got a few of Punk's guitar picks and sheets of -magic- music

After they left, Punk would then make little patches that represent Wind, Mask and Warriors and put them on their leather jacket!

After the war, Punk stayed for a while to help with the rebuilding of any damaged cities/towns and to also help with moral of the citizens as their music could have some healing and/or soothing abilities if needed! During that time, the punk and captain grew....quite close and maybe...just maybe, the two little shits plans didn't fail afterall!

(I do have more if you want! >:3 tho its mostly be based off of Punk and their interaction with the Chain as War's partner!)

i do want more!! i always do!

im having many thoughts that are not wanting to be articulated into words but

[cosplayinamerica]

Punk Sailor Moon Cosplayer: @figglybuff Photo: @felixwongphotography @jriversxphotography custom car @xtrek_lun Convention : Otakon (Washington DC)

Sailor Moon was my first love ~I guess you could say in anime~ + as the first source of my femininity + empowerment at a young age that stemmed from Asian influence. I grew up watching the American version. Then I rewatched the OG Japanese + fell deeper in love. As a kid born in 93, I appreciate it more as an adult.

In middle/high school days, I was a misfit. I heavily experimented with my looks + fashion choices to express myself. I had more phases than the moon (pun intended) but my emo/punk phase never trickled out of my system completely.

How could I pay homage to one of my favorite childhood fandoms? By marrying the rebellious side of my teen angst years with the soft, feminine magical aesthetic of Usagi/Sailor Moon.

I was watching Sailor Moon Eternal + Sailor Moon Crystal on Netflix. I saw a Facebook post from my friend, Amy Tiller asking for a Sailor Moon replacement in their Punk version group at Otakon ASAP. How crazy the timing was since I was in the middle of watching the anime!

The fact that we rushed it in two days to finalize the entire look was impressive. Amy Tiller treated it as a free commission + we exchanged ideas based on the iterations of Sailor Moon’s looks. I loved the idea of wearing a denim vest with a Punisher crossover since the last con I cosplayed as the Punisher. She crafted + adorned the denim vest, the hair accessories, hand-painted the brooch, + put grommets in the blouse to make a shoelace effect.Her sister, Beth Tiller made the tiara out of cardboard, took a red gem from old jewelry then glued it using gold puff paint, jeweled my mask, + made the beaded mask holder. She reduced the floofy pigtails with bubble braids. She also re-arranged the metal chains intertwining my shirt.

I chose a mix of clothes to fit the punk scene to be recognizable enough. I styled the wig + hot glued heart shaped red gems on the pigtails. To stay on brand, I used the Sailor Moon ColourPop makeup palette. I added anime lines under my eyes for extra flair. I “hardened the look” with gothic touches by introducing black leather garters + thigh highs.

I am thankful that this was a collaborative effort. This entire outfit was put together by the power of love and friendship! 🌙 ✨🖤

The Punk Sailor Moon because of how perfect the situation was under time pressure + how my look was completed through the assistance thanks to new friends. I was overwhelmed with compliments + met cosplayers who rocked Sailor Moon characters.

I was in the spotlight of the anime sports car section. A customized Subaru was decked out in Sailor Moon artwork. I was given a dope sticker of a modern day Usagi posing with the car just as I was in real life. The unique photo opportunity was the most memorable to me.

Otakon was my first Anime con + being Sailor Moon was the cherry on top. Despite the stressors of cosplay crunch, I’ll still look back + be over the moon of the experiences I shared.

During my childhood, I looked forward to playing dress up + planning my Halloween costumes in advance. I chose obscure characters + would happily tell everyone the lore behind the character I was recreating!

I discovered cosplay in 2010. In highschool, I felt alone most of the time so I crafted + created in my spare time to share with others online. My way of escaping reality = planning my self-photoshoots at home. I would post my cosplay photo sets on Tumblr to reveal my love for > insert characters here <

My first cosplay + videogame was Lara Croft: Tombraider. I dressed up as her many times in my youth because I played a lot of the games. She was a strong, badass icon whom I admired. As I started to begin my fitness journey, I subtly dressed up as her. Then gym regulars started to refer to me as, “Tombraider”. I didn’t know this at the time, but this is where my cosplaying journey began.

Cosplay was a constant in my life since I was in diapers. I just didn’t know what it was at the time or that it would become my lifelong mission as an adult. It gave me my sense of self, the strength to see myself in these characters + stories, a supportive community,+ an awakening of my creative power.

[blackbird-brewster]

All the even numers >:)

Bahahaha, alright Anon. I saved this for last.

2. Do you drink tea or coffee? How do you take it? 

(Answered here)

4. Do you sleep on your back, stomach or side? 

I'm a side sleeper, mostly facing outwards. But sometimes, I wind up on my back and when I do I snore so loud Doom Them has to wake me up.

6. Do you prefer drawing or writing? 

I can't draw for shit. Writing is my creative talent

8. What’s your favourite band/artist? 

I have SO many. I listen to a wild range of music. Everything from ska to indie rock to punk to emo to pop. Some of my all-time fave bands include: The Killers, Foreigner, Avett Brothers, Postal Service, Betty Who, Beyonce, Lizzo, Tegan and Sara.

10. How tall are you? 

5'6" or 168 cm

12. Who are five (or more) people you want to hug right now? 

@otahkoapisiakii @bittersweet-bibliophile @the-kazoo-kid @gaelic-symphony @mygenitiveisobjective

14. What’s your favourite colour? 

(Answered here)

16. Want any tattoos? What of? 

I have around 35 tattoos (hard to count when you have half sleeves and such). I DO want more tattoos, but in the past two years one of my chronic conditions has made it so I'm allergic to my tattoos. They get welts and hives all the time. Which really sucks because uhhhh, my entire body is covered in them 🤷‍♂️

18. Who is the last person you texted? 

I sent Frankie some smut as a little treat!

20. What/who do you miss? 

I miss all my loves in the US. But in terms of 'what' -- the thing I miss everyday is being able to leave my house without it having to be an entire Event. I miss life before the pandemic where I didn't have to take 100 pre-emptive steps to protect myself every time I go out. I miss 2020 when everyone (in my country) was in this together, when everyone was masking and staying home when they were sick, when everything was accessible by being online. I miss when people cared.

The pandemic isn't over. Some of us have never left lockdown.

22. How much sleep did you get last night? 

I actually went to sleep hella early. I was asleep before my daily kudos email (this is how I tell time, okay?) which comes about 00:20. Then, I got up early with Doom Them -- so I think I got about 7 hours? I only need 5-6 to be functional.

24. When was the last time you cried? Why? 

Last night I cried from laughing so hard at this picture of our cat

26. What are some seemingly childish things you like? 

I don't believe joy has an age limit. I'm a regular at our local toy stores, I know all the staff, I'm always buying new fidget toys and Squishmallows. I got into Squishmallows about the same time I got my Autism dx (mid-2020) and since then, Squish have become a constant form of comfort for us. We currently have about 300 in our collection -- and that's after some major downsizing. There's no way to know how many squish we've rotated through over the years. Here's the last full squad photo we took in Jan 2022 (there's nowhere in our house to do a full pic of the 300 we have currently)

28. How are you, really? 

I'm actually doing well this week. Summer weather arrived without warning and my depression is lifting. I feel really inspired for the first time in weeks!

30. What are you looking forward to in the near future? 

Finishing Fooled Around (and Fell in Love) - Part 3!!!!!!!!

32. If you could go anywhere right now, where would you go? 

If I could see my US friends without actually having to go to the US itself, that would be perfect.

34. What’s your favourite flower? 

(Answered Here)

36. Do you like your middle name?

Not really. My middle name is the name of some random ski instructor my parents met the year before I was born (I have theories about this, about why my dad randomly remembered this person's name -- but that's a whole other thing. Oh, and also that's one of my middle names, it's complicated. I have like 5 names)

38. Do you have any phobias? 

Ornithophobia (fear of birds). Also scared of horses, cows, and airbags.

40. Do you like the beach? Do you prefer it sunny or cloudy? 

YES!! I love living ten minutes from the beach. We go there a lot to relax and scream at the ocean. I prefer sunny weather, hands down, but it's cloudy 90% of the time here.

42. Tag 5 of your favourite blogs

Oh, this is really difficult. I'll just tag some rad mutuals: @knitmeapony @chaotic-archaeologist @unitchiefs-blackbirdphoenix @gaelic-symphony @artcake

44. Who was the last person you said “I love you” to? 

I've said 'I love you' to at least five people today and it's only 10am. And I meant every one of those. I'm very much the type of person who loves my partners and friends openly and freely.

46. What do you need when you’re sad? 

Cranky Cave(tm)! Cranky cave is when I'm having meltdowns. I go to my room and turn on the fairy lights and galaxy projector. Grab a ton of squish and fidgets. Bury myself in blankets. And watch my comfort shows.

48. Who’s someone you can trust with your life? 

Doom Them, Kay, Coyote.

[Send Me Asks]

[lonespektr]

SEPTEMBER 6TH HORROR WATCH

The Deep Ones (2021)

I think white people doing love craft could be a fatal error but here we are

Okay strangers

Okay not strangers 🙄🙄

Miscarriage

"old world"

It's annoying when they comedically play what should just be a normal sex between partners

Like do fun and flirty or do sexy

This lets comedically film normal is not now nor has never been it

It's like when marvel stomps on every joke

Miscarriage trauma and the guy is whatever's about it

Not surprisingly the woman is already cast in black with a vague whore stamp cause she had sex but failed to produce a baby so WHORE even in marriage and trying for one

Alien

And preggers

Very clear mystical pregnancy

Normal depiction of boobs is good if there's equal opportunity treatment for men...

More eggs

This an air b n b?

Hallucinations

Just making up shit, just peak men shit

6AfuckingM

Bruh you didn't wake ha?

Make sure to apologize for being a frigid bitch for not having sex post miscarriage

Out of the boat alone

Call in for doc / sleeping plotting against her

Trident lore 🔱

Oh sis is preggers too

Luddite commune

Was Lovecraft also anti tech punk ass too?

Journey

The light

Lol he doesn't know what fucking Cthulhu is 🤣🤣

Hypnosis already

Being on your knees before a woman is inherently degrading but also to make it clear we are going to have a guy there behind him and do some tentacle penetration

Full robes of course the woman is bleeding preggars in pain and simulated Cthulhu sexual assault 🙄

White guy is chosen by Cthulhu

Eggs 🙄clams🙄

Candid camera

Doc dropped by lol old school

Sis finally let's her guard down because the doc knows some acupressure after being the only one with common sense

But they always hobble a woman by preggers or other ailments

Lol doc got a home lab?

Missing woman

The not believed "crazy" she said ACAB

How u tell somebody business like that?

She said why don't you do a welfare check on her steada bothering me

Fishy 🤣

What's with the universally poor application of lipstick

Got the light

Sinister very male response to truth from women and excuses

Lol preggers fetish

Gills

Echolocation

Tentacles got our town nutter

She knows

You already brought her to us

Jasmine awaits

This lady isn't door a poor job acting necessarily but she's off.. somehow

Now another scripture

Party time

This is the fifth time they have said his name and I'm sorry I'm too dumb i don't understand the reference

AA welcome

Petri is obviously a peter derivative...rock

Kid in a creepy mask

Lots of simulation of substance use w/o much substance use

Already asked to swing!

Trying to tell the ratio

Vessels to the old ones

Again not subtle which seems anti Lovecraft

So many uncomfortable close ups

Bro where she go to get that drink russia?

9 months today 😬

Moving here

Lol she can't even think of an excuse not to stay

Lol cuban time

Fire fertility show

They actually hired somebody 🤣

I like that the woman are all middle aged regular looking my baby likes you

Oh yea that was the one kid there despite all the pregnancy

Chanting and planning to impregnate the women

There's something sinister about mens ignorance to the situation in horror films it's misogynistic although i can't place why

Webbed fingers

And these poor women talking sense

Talking sense is awful in a horror film

Oop name drop the man books on the shelf have secret letters

10 months from today 😂 i suppose we wouldn't know what day it is so

But it's old

Bits of german

Stranded guest afraid

I always feel like somebody's watching me

I like the silly little projections of scenes on the letter

These women win being the most realistic in a horror film

Lol straight to cult

Lol she said necrmbkomicon stuff 🤣🤣

Everybody crowded watching in that security room is taking me out the robes

Omg that old man chasing a car on foot!!

Got her

That's the other kid i guess

Bruh that was HELLA close to the house

Now she looking for phone and passport

Here goes the nanny cam

Poorly placed mic

Mam well past time to EXIT

phone didn't work, now it do, MAM

Odd tones

Lights

And the door

The hell kinda knife is that

Petri out

Secret room

Dagon!

Knew it

Thank you

Petri useless

She ran Anyway after waiting

Now he got it

Help who? Now we in stupid horror movie antics

You ALREADY established the cult

They flicked a switch now she dumb

Caveman

More children

At least they aren't pretending it isn't rape, that would have been worse

They utilize the intimacy anchor to convey he's lost instead of the other way around, that is they usually fail to do the task not initiate a poor mimicry of it

I guess points for the rape being guttural screams of agony not salacious

Putting the camera alongside the aggressors elecits different emotions

I believe this one was attempting to do a bystander helplessness thing

Esp considering the last scene

These are ineffective without hope at the end like the letter, something that assists the next victim

[datawyrms]

Ghostly Mystery Tour

For Phic Fight 2021! dey’s lovely prompt c:

On Ao3

Maddie and Jack had fully prepared for their adventure into the Ghost Zone—or so they thought. The fuel on Specter Speeder had fizzled out about a mile in. They're stuck. At least, until Phantom comes by, offering help.

“I just don’t understand it Maddie, I swear I charged it just this morning!” Jack’s voice managed to be louder than his frantic jabbing at the fuel gauge in the enclosed space, the sickly green glow outside making him look ill instead of agitated.

“I’m sure you did honey, but we need to think of a plan.” Maddie was already trying to think of what they could use. They weren’t too far away from the portal home, with how quickly the Speeder ran out of power. They had plenty of gear and weaponry packed in for their research trip, but the Specter Speeder wasn’t powered with something they could just toss in a gas can and bring along. “Maybe we can hook some of the ropes to the floating land masses and tow it?”

“Oh! Great idea!” Jack brightened, shoving the previous problem aside, hands now occupied with measuring the distance of the nearby rocks. “The sooner we get moving, the sooner we can get back to work!”

The problem about how safe it actually was to breathe in the air when in the realm of the dead had been accounted for, but if they had to waste the air tanks just to get back- well they wouldn’t get to have nearly the amount of time to actually explore on foot, let alone gathering samples. They could learn so much about the ectoplasmic terrors from the world they clawed out of, weaknesses they didn’t need to fear on Earth even! So to have their expedition, a trip that had been months in the making derailed like this in mere moments hurt. At least Jack could keep his eyes forward, his positive attitude the only thing keeping her from screaming from the absolute unfairness of it all. “Just run the best options past me before you open the hatch, okay darling?”

“You betcha!”

She was still going to enable the Fenton Child Safety Lock as a precaution, he could get a little over eager when he saw an opportunity. It was just a matter of what tools could be repurposed into a makeshift claw or skewer to actually keep hold of the rocks. What would be the smallest loss?

The sound of something hitting the roof of the speeder halted her thoughts, turning to look out of the windows, drawing up her hood in case they’d be fighting so soon. Even Jack had stopped with his mental calculations, pulling a weapon from under the seat. “Company already? Guess we’ll show em what for, eh honey?”

“Well it is the Ghost Zone, they’re probably braver here. Not that it’ll be any problem.” A little boasting could help keep morale up, even if the situation was less than ideal. Stranded with a ghost already trying to take advantage, typical.

“Well one little zap with this baby and it’ll scoot right on back!”

If the ghost could hear them, maybe it would be frightened off just by their voices. Whatever had hit them hadn’t shown itself near the window, or hit their vehicle again. It didn’t feel right. There might be no evidence for whatever it was lurking around, but sometimes you had to follow your intuition. Jack was inquisitive, but didn’t ask out loud as his wife stood to knock the ceiling herself.

“Sooo are we doing knock knock jokes, or do you need a tow?”

She should have known. Of all the ghosts, it would have to be the one that always managed to get her hackles up, pretending to be helpful so people trusted him. A ghost that even tried to have a human name to fit in, not that she’d ever call this thing ‘Danny’. It was an insult to her baby boy, quite frankly. “What are you up to now?”

“Asking you if you need this thing moved. Duh,” the ghost snorted, the metal clanking as he knocked it again. “Talking at you from the roof feels dumb, you gonna shoot if I go to the front?”

“Depends on what you do, ghost scum!” Jack had looked pensive for a moment, but spoke up quickly on spotting Maddie reaching for a notebook. He just had to give her time to think it over, and he was great at distractions.

“Is scum what you call all people who help you out, or am I just your favourite?” A white haired head appeared at the top of their window, looking down with an amused smirk at the pair. Still playing innocent when they were at a disadvantage.

“You’re a ghost ‘claiming’ to want to help.”

That earned a frown, though the ghost stopped half hiding to float in front of their stranded speeder. “Riiiight. Put it that way, whatever,” he paused, as if studying their faces. His green eyes lingered on the weapon, notably so even as he went back to jabbering. “I’ve got some stuff to do, but I can drag the s-that thing back to the portal. So?”

The hunters shared a glance, unsure how to handle it. Phantom liked to claim he liked humans and protecting them, but he was a ghost. There had to be something he wanted out of them in return. Or might get violent if refused in the wrong way. At least he shouldn’t be able to see the quickly scrawled message to Jack. ‘You play the doubtful one, I’ll pretend to trust him- it’ll underestimate us’

“As if, spooky! Jack Fenton doesn’t need any ghost’s help!”

The ghost bought the open hostility without a second thought, eyes rolling to a sky that wasn’t here. “Really? I heard tow trucks were expensive out of state! Can’t imagine the out of dimension costs.”

It was going to be difficult to stay civil when it would be so much easier to just demand the ghost stop playing around. “We’re listening. So what do you want?”

“Awwww Mads, we don’t need this punk’s help! He doesn’t even have toes!”

The passion Jack had put into his moping managed to baffle the ghost. “Wait, what? Of course I do! No, stop, why does that matter? I know tows and toes are different things! I’m not that bad of a student, sheesh.” He seemed quite thrown, which was good. If the ghost forgot what the plan had been he might just get lost.

“Yeah, and you don’t have either Phantom!” Her husband managed to keep from laughing, but the shake in his shoulders showed it was a near thing.

Phantom glanced down at the black wispy tail that made up his legs, muttering something. “Well okay I don’t right now, but I normally do!”

It was a bit fascinating that Jack had distracted the ghost from his goal so completely. They’d have to think about an invention that could replicate the effect. “Can we focus please? I already said I’d listen to what you wanted.”

“Oh! Right, sorry,” he coughed, a strangely human expression of embarrassment. “I don’t actually need anything? I just have some stuff to do so you’d need to wait a bit.”

Oh right. Sure, the most dangerous ghost in town wanted to help the ghost hunters that wanted to destroy him ‘just because’. Just wait here while he goes to get some friends to attack them! Honestly, did ghosts think they were stupid? “Then why not tell us when you’re done? We’re not moving very quickly.”

“Cus he wants to make us think we’re safe before WHAM! Outnumbered by cowardly ghosts!” Jack expressed her true feelings effortlessly. “Not that it’d help em!”

“No way, you think I’d leave you guys here where anyone can try something?” The ghost still seemed confused, eyebrows raised and arms crossed. “You guys are here to study or whatever anyway, right? So you can look around while I get my errands done. And you know, you don’t get attacked. Most of the little guys leave me alone.”

As if that was a surprise! A ghost of Phantom’s strength could destroy smaller and weaker entities without effort. Perhaps it was a subtle threat slipping through his mask of ‘helpful child’. The idea of going deeper into the Ghost Zone, completely at his mercy was...well absolutely idiotic. Even if they could probably overcome him...being able to still get some studies done would make it not a complete waste of a trip. “So you think it’s likely we’ll be attacked here, so close to the portal?”

“Yeah, by him!” Jack looked tempted to grab his weapon, but refrained. “So what if we say no, huh?”

“Then I guess you can float here? Up to you, I guess.”

It was strange, to see the cocky ghost a bit hesitant. Even if there was an obvious threat he wasn’t mentioning. “Well if you could pull the Speeder, you could take it even if we don’t want you to.”

“I think that’s called kidnapping.” Phantom’s cocky smirk returned “Which is weird, you’re not kids! Adultnapping? Nah, that sounds dumb.”

“Ah cut the innocent act, we’re not falling for it!”

“Hey, I said it’s up to you! Either you agree to come along and I get you back home, or I just leave you guys to do whatever you plan to do. Even if yes, I could totally just drag the ship anyway. I’m not, because I’m trying to help, remember?” A hint of frustration slid past the confidence at ‘remember’, but the ghost folding his arms behind his head as if kicking back to relax did defang most of the threat. “I don’t have all day here.”

“We don’t have all day either Phantom. We have family to get back to, and no idea how long you plan to be ‘on errands’.” Maddie pointed out, still unsure what they should do. Trusting him was stupid, but he had showed his hand. Refusal might be met with the same result anyway, but ‘agreeing’ might trick the ghost into thinking they fell for his ‘trustworthy’ act.

“Like an hour or two? Not too long.”

“Well I’d use my Fenton Stopwatch! So don’t think you can pretend it’s a shorter time than it is, ghost!”

“Yeah yeah, you do that D-Jack,” he stumbled over the ghost hunter’s name, but otherwise didn’t move from relaxing. “It’s not gonna kill you to trust me for a bit.”

Even though it very much could kill them. He really was a smug bit of ectoplasm, thinking he blended in with humans well enough to be considered one. “So only a few hours, and you won’t stop us from researching or taking samples? Or lead us to a trap?”

“If I wanted people to get threatened by ghosts, I could just take some days off. No trouble, cross my heart. I’d swear to die but I got the jump on that bit,” he snorted at his own joke, but otherwise left the family to consider.

It was just safer to say ‘yes’ so the ghost thought they were fools. It had nothing to do with wanting to salvage something out of this disaster of an expedition. “Yes. We’ll accept your help, this time.”

“And you aren’t getting any thanks until we’re home, got it?” Good, ghost hunter, bad ghost hunter. An easy enough trick. Even if she wished Jack was the ‘trusting’ one. Yelling would feel nice.

“Yeeeah, kinda expected that too. Rude.” The ghost only shrugged before flying up and out of sight. She half expected to hear the ghost grab the Speeder, but they only really noticed when they started moving. Moving very, very quickly.

She couldn’t help it, her curiosity tamped down some of the fear she should be feeling, pointing out interesting landmasses as they passed, Jack just as enthusiastic to discuss what caused them, if the ghost built them or they were simply generated when a ghost squirmed into existence. A great castle that seemed familiar, an island with some sort of skull as a decoration and thousands of doors. Most ghosts they only could get sparing glimpses at, even when carrying an entire vehicle the ghost boy was fast. Ridiculously so. She thought it was his small figure that contributed to how quickly the pest could move- how the ghost could just vanish out of range in moments. That most of the power behind his physical attacks came from the speed they were delivered with instead of raw strength. Clearly that was an incorrect hypothesis, moving this quickly and carrying so much extra weight without any real difficulty. They slowed near what seemed to be another castle, though it was much less foreboding looking then the other one.

That sinking dread returned after they landed. She had some landmarks, but this much distance would be a big ask to get back. That, and this castle seemed more...occupied, judging by some humanoid ghosts loitering near the gates. One even waved. To them, or the ghost carrying them?

“Okayyy so. Ground rules? Don’t shoot anyone. None of these guys even go through the portal, they’re not the fighting type. Other than that? Have fun, I guess?” He’d stopped floating, standing on the ground beside their stalled craft. He didn’t look as if preparing to fight, which is what she’d assumed the ghost meant by ‘errands’. So what was he up to?

“We won’t do anything if they don’t.” A lie, honestly, but the ghost nodded.

“Wait, what’s that stuff for?” White gloves pointed at the masks the ghost hunters were pulling from under the seats. “Like you can hear me, there’s air out here.”

“It might be safe for ghosts, but we aren’t ghosts.”

Phantom opened his mouth as if to protest before shutting it with a frown. Strange, it was hard to get him to shut up most of the time.

“Nice try, we’re not gonna choke on ghost air today, Phantom!” Jack chuckled, adjusting his mask before popping open the hatch.

“I wasn’t expecting you to- oh whatever. Just don’t embarrass me,” he sounded like a sulking kid, only glancing at them for a moment before kicking off the ground to fly closer to the castle. Off to fight whoever ‘owned’ this area, perhaps?

“Well look at that! Regular plants!” Jack shook her from her pondering, crouched over what looked like a tended to flower bed near the walls. “Well, ghost plants that aren’t trying to attack. Think we should sketch em for the kids?”

“Well Jazz has been more interested in ghosts lately, I suppose.” It was interesting, but she was more curious about the ghost meandering past the walls. They seemed docile, almost like people just walking and apparently talking with one another. Not attempting to fight for territory or resources. Perhaps they were just repeating the memories of their lives over and over? Yet none of them had reacted badly to Phantom zipping past either. A different breed of ghost, perhaps? Or ghosts often had ‘kings’ that kept the lesser ones from squabbling. The large brute of a ghost that stole the town had claimed to be a king of sorts, and this was another castle...but she didn’t want to test anything by getting their attention. They might only act savagely towards humans, being jealous of those still alive after all.

“Yeah, she has! Danno might not like em, but that goth chick he’s eyeing might like em too!” He was already sketching away, quickly getting the basics. He’d fill in the details from memory back home. “You want to try seeing if those ones talk? Not sure how the ghost kid thinks we could embarrass him, ha!”

“Oh he was probably just trying to insult us. He likes to pretend to be a teenager,” she waved that question away, double checking her weapon was easy to reach in case of an emergency. No reason to make their predicament worse by being unprepared. While still considering to go near those ghosts instead of safely observing from a distance. Jack’s enthusiasm was too infectious, really, but that’s how they made so many discoveries!

The ghosts didn’t object to her moving closer, but she kept off the busier paths to be safe. So many stalls of what seemed to be goods, clothing and paintings, rugs and nick knacks. Well, the ghosts didn’t need anything to live, so it would make sense for them to prioritize other items first, but the art was strange. What did the dead know of creativity? Were these all recreations of something found in life? No, some of the paintings had the green skies of the Ghost Zone, implying at least some ‘new’ thought. They were strange, very unlike the wild animals that often attacked the town, or the showy inhuman mimics that tried to claim world domination. They just looked like greener, more transparent people. Barely any of them even floated much. They’d need new categories, they broke too many rules that stayed true on Earth.

“Oh that’s a lovely shade of blue! I wish I could make something like it.” The voice echoed, but it wasn’t growling or mocking. In fact, the ghost woman who had paused beside the hunter was smiling warmly, despite the dead red eyes. “Are you just visiting for a bit?”

“We’re mostly stuck going wherever the ghost boy is taking us, our ship broke down,” Maddie struggled not to frown, her natural inclination to get away from the still potentially dangerous ghost strong with so many fights. She could tell it the truth, in a sense. Phantom was far more likely to be dangerous then this waif of a woman. How she could move in so many ruffles was baffling.

“Oh dear! Well if he’s any trouble you can let Dorthea know, she’s a caring ruler. A human helped her get her rightful throne back, so I’m sure she’d be happy to help!” The ghost tittered a little, as if expecting that to be obvious.

So the ghost did know she was human? Far more alarming was the idea some other human had been dragged this far from home, possibly trapped. Maybe this would turn into a rescue mission. Unless it was too late for them, a distinct possibility. “Oh really? How did that happen?”

“Oh I don’t really know the details, but it was a human that inspired our good Queen that she didn’t need to fear that tyrant and she could fight back. I wish I’d seen it!”

It was disquieting how human the ghost sounded, a friendly sort of gossip. If only she had a way to record it. “The human got back home after helping, right?”

“Well I assume so, she had no intentions of staying here very long, that’s for sure!” She laughed easily, apparently blind to Maddie’s confusion and apprehension, or just unable to see it past the mask and goggles. “I’m fairly sure Sir Phantom took her back, you could ask him.”

Sir? That town terrorizing scoundrel was respected around here? And had been taking humans out of the ghost zone? Probably because he made whoever it was get here in the first place, just to rescue them. Was that why he was here? To stage some new act with this ghost queen? “Right, I might do that.” Would she? This morning she hadn’t expected to talk to ghosts, let alone multiple.

“Oh! If you see any of those angry blobs you can just run back towards the guards and they’ll deal with it. It’s their job, and they’re quite good at it. I actually considered doing that job for a bit, but I like looking after the plants more. Maybe I’ll switch in a decade or two!” The ghost kept talking, apparently taking Maddie’s lack of further questions as permission to keep chattering.

“Can’t you deal with them yourself?” Attacking ghost blobs was something she knew about, and if this ghost was strong enough to mimic humans, shouldn’t it be able to deal with the much less sophisticated tactics of blobs?

“Me? Oh no, I’m not not trained. Do you still have lions on the other side? It would be like trying to fight one of those with a stick!” She laughed, but not unkindly.

“You’re both ghosts though, aren’t you?” Perhaps they differentiated themselves by name in the Ghost Zone? It would lend some evidence to the ‘different breeds’ of ghost hypothesis she was rapidly stringing together.

She tapped at her chin for a moment at the question. “I suppose we are, but they’re more like animals. They might have always been animals, or never alive at all! It’s perfectly safe here though, they usually fight more among themselves.”

Well that was fascinating. Some ghosts didn’t instinctively know how to fight and had to be taught? Yet didn’t consider themselves completely separated from the more animalistic ectoplasmic terrors. Perhaps the more ‘domestic’ setting here made the ghosts less feral and more reliant on their previous memories. Well, the ghost could be lying, but she couldn’t see the benefit she’d gain from deception here. “So you’re kind of stuck here then? We saw a lot of those outside of this place.”

“No no, we’ve got safer ways to travel than just flying around! Not all of us are that brave, dear. Though I don’t think I’d want to stay somewhere else very long anyway. Here it’s safe, all my friends are here and we have one of the largest markets in the whole Ghost Zone. Other ghosts come to us!” There was a hint of pride as she spoke about her ‘home’, gesturing over to some of the stalls Maddie hadn't had time to look at before getting interrupted. “I was really hoping to get something from the seven armed bloke over there, but he’s not very interested in my clothing. Maybe next time.”

Said ‘bloke’ had far too many eyes to go with the arms, and a collection of honestly terrifying little statues with strange designs that made her head hurt if she looked at it too long. A clear outsider to the more human ones, but not causing a stir. So much for constantly fighting out groups, but they barely had anything in common either! Not to mention engaging in some kind of simplistic trading. “So this happens often?”

“Pretty much. It’s fun to make new things, but you get bored of just your own stuff after a few centuries you know? So we swap and find new things.”

Well of course, it’s not like the ghosts needed to trade for something vital to existence. Swapping ‘things’ made more sense in that context. So why weren’t any trying to trade strength or favours? Or simply taking what they wanted? Was it related to having a queen? She had so many questions that knowing what ones needed to be asked was next to impossible. “I suppose you would. How can you tell if a ghost that comes is peaceful?”

“Asking!” She laughed again, apparently finding the question funny. So they didn’t deal with constant attacks from spectres like Phantom trying to ‘take over?’ Why?

“Oh geeze, I’m so sorry if she said anything about trying to-” Phantom’s voice interrupted her thoughts, the ghost suddenly floating beside the other ghost and sputtering.

“Sorry? She’s been perfectly lovely! Haven’t you- oh I’m so rude, I didn’t even get your name!” the ghost tisked at herself, once again strangely apologetic.

“Wait, she has?” His doubtful tone made the ghost hunter scowl. As if he had any room to judge them.

“We’re scientists, not uncontrollable monsters.” Like him. She was fairly sure he caught the implication when the boy muttered something she couldn’t hear.

“Cool. Anyway, got another stop, then I’ll get you two back home.” He still hovered, glancing between the two of them a few times. “Oh. Maddie, that’s her name.”

“Lovely speaking with you Maddie! Had a good trip back, I’m Guenivier if you’re ever in the area again,” she smiled and gave another wave before somehow drifting back into the crowd without displacing even a bit of that dress.

“Who said you can give out my name?” Maddie hissed, once certain the other ghost was out of earshot.

He leaned back on teenager mannerisms, scoffing and heading away. “Because she wanted to know and thinks you aren’t a total ghost hater? It’s not gonna hurt anything.”

“How can I know you don’t have a way to locate people by name?”

He was rolling his eyes again as if she was being ridiculous. “You live in a house with a giant glowing sign. Not exactly subtle.”

“That isn’t in the ghost zone.”

“It’s attached to the ghost zone, it totally counts.”

It really was like arguing with a teenager when he bantered on like this. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Yes ma’am. Sheesh.” He hopped on top of the speeder, kicking his heels against the side. “Hey Jack, you coming?”

“Coming!” he bellowed back, jogging over from the patch of plants she’d left him at. However, he wasn’t just carrying his notebook, but a folded glowing bit of cloth. Some sort of tapestry judging by all the stitching? “Just wanted to get a few more lines done-” he broke off after spotting his wife, apparently reminded that he shouldn’t be so chummy with the ghost. “I mean I leave when I want to, you can’t boss Fentons around!”

“Oh come onnn, can you pretend you don’t hate me for like five minutes? I’m not even doing anything!” Phantom complained, flopping backwards onto the Speeder. “You were totally having a good time”.

“How did you get that, dear?” Maddie chose to ignore their sulking captor and instead look at what Jack managed to gather besides sketches.

“Oh, one of the ghosties liked my pictures and asked to trade for one! So I gave em a page for this! We can study how they made it back home, neat huh?”

Apparently he hadn’t been too worried about it being a trap, but a picture he’d just sketched wasn’t a big ask for something that could teach them a lot about the ghosts in here, so it was a good trade nonetheless. “You did great sweetie. Just make sure to store it safely, just in case.”

“Already on it sweet cheeks!” He was indeed, already pulling out a large sample bag to store their find before opening the hatch again.

“Ew. I changed my mind, go back to threatening me. Sappy is worse.”

Well, at least the ghost regretted his actions a bit. He’d be more sorry if he tried anything, but this did just seem to be something to sooth that hero complex it had. So far, anyway. She was tempted to ask the ghost what it had been up to at the castle, but it didn’t really matter. He’d just lie anyway, he clearly wasn’t the same sort of ghost as the weaker ones back there.

“Ha, he crumples in the face of our love Madds!” Jack laughed, hugging his wife and they got comfortable back in the speeder. “You think he’d take us back home if I said how much I love ya?”

“I so don’t need to hear this.” He was muffled, apparently still flopped on the speeder. He didn’t add anything before the Speeder lifted from the ground and resumed speeding through the strange green expanse.

“Clearly he buys his own teenager delusion.” Maddie mused, content to rest against Jack and look through his sketches. “Did they seem strangely lifelike to you too?”

“Oh sure! They just talked and didn’t even seem interested in going to the human world! Even though one was very jealous of how bright my jumpsuit is.” He leaned a bit to flick a few pages forward. “I sketched a couple and got their names, so we can see if we can look em up. See if they’re similar to their old selves according to history and all.”

“That’s a good idea. I didn’t get a complete name, but apparently they have jobs? Not like the wilder ghosts, and they do have a queen…” she paused, remembering the ‘human’ Phantom apparently ‘helped home. “Hey! You did help someone home from the ghost zone before, did you?”

“Huh? Oh! Yeah, she’s back safe. Wasn’t even a whole day.” He sounded distracted, or at least surprised by the question.

It could be a valuable lead. That, and the human might need help after such an experience. Who knew how ecto contaminated they might be! “Who was it?”

“How should I know? Just because I’m in town a lot doesn’t mean I know everyone’s name.”

She frowned, glancing at Jack who only shrugged. So he hadn’t heard that story, only her. “You know ours.”

“Because you shout them at me and shoot at me a lot? Pretty easy to remember!”

“Ghost kid’s got a point.” Jack admitted, patting her on the shoulder. “We’ll just find who it is ourselves! Just an extra project.”

“What, and just make their life weird again by bringing up ghost stuff? Leave em alone.”

Well now they absolutely had to look into it, if Phantom wasn’t keen on the idea. Better to let him think they agreed though. “True, it could just lead you back to them.”

“Hey! This is all you, not me!”

Jack chuckled. “You’re really good at riling him up. Almost sounds like our Danny like that, getting all touchy about fun family activities!”

“Well he probably copies behaviour from local teenagers,” she didn't like that comparison though. Their children were nothing like life destroying ghosts. It was better to turn her attention to the passing green and how the amount of doors seemed to dwindle as masses of ice started to become the most prominent detail. That made more sense, actually. Phantom had started using ice in addition to ectoblasts, if he came from somewhere with this sort of climate it seemed less out of place with his other abilities. Even if he was otherwise ill suited to snow and ice with how he insisted on looking like a kid.

The next stop felt more like a mistake, with only hills of untouched white powder and ice to see, but the crunch of snow below confirmed they were no longer moving. Good thing they came prepared with heated coats!

“Not a whole lot around here! If it wasn’t for all the green we could pretend we were in Alaska.” Jack chattered as he shrugged a coat on, still apparently too excited to look around to keep his suspicion up. “They don’t all like castles, or maybe it’s a hidden one!”

He better not be thinking Santa had an ice castle. That was probably what he was thinking of, but she didn’t really want to bring up their annual argument at the moment. He could be wrong today, there were more important things to do. “You do realize it’s a frozen wasteland you’ve stranded us on?”

“It’s not that cold.” Phantom objected, circling the Speeder idly.

“Easy for a ghost to say, you’re always cold ghost kid!”

He stopped at that, glancing back at Jack. “It's not that bad, is it?”

“Only because we brought warm clothing. Jumpsuits aren’t enough for the living.” Maddie huffed, looking at the snowfields to find anything worth looking at. The structures of ice were somewhat interesting, but not inherently ghostly.

“Well you guys can stay here, I guess.” The ghost bit at his lip, playing up the concern now that they pointed out a frozen wasteland was cold. Honestly, how did anyone fall for Phantom’s act if he made mistakes like this? “I don’t think Frostbite’s people come out this far…”

“Oh, are they dangerous? We can take any of your little ghostly pals!”

Phantom looked as if Jack suggested exploding a building. “No! Don’t fight any of them! They just look scary, okay? Just ignore them, if any show up.” He didn’t wait for a response before flying off this time, apparently in much more of a hurry this time.

“Sounds like he’s worried about what we can do to his little pals, huh?” Jack elbowed his wife with a grin. “Well, maybe we can find something weird about the ice here!”

It was better to try getting some of the ghost ice instead of doing nothing, though she doubted it would be very different from regular ice, beyond the ectocontamination. Now what would a ghost think is ‘scary looking’? He hadn’t given such a warning when close to all of the other ghosts, after all. It was a bit of a mystery, and none of the ice here had any identifying marks or hints of another odd little ghost ‘civilization’. ‘Frostbite’ wasn’t much of a name either, perhaps they were more like the wild sort that came to Amity?

“Oh hoh! Look at this!” Jack yelled out, pointing to something below him as he waved her over.

A large, clawed footprint left in the snow, and fairly deep. So something monstrous after all, as expected. “Maybe we can get a cast of it?” They had supplies for it, but she wasn’t certain if it would work in the ice correctly. The tracks didn’t go for long, but following them wasn’t a very tantalizing idea. Better to keep a distance and be well armed if they wanted to tangle with whatever left this. It wasn’t as distracting as the previous stop, but the sound of crunches increasing in volume had the couple back on edge and wary.

“Seriously, we should just go-”

It sounded like the ghost boy was near wherever the crunches were coming from, which didn’t improve her mood one iota.

“Nonsense! I have been asking to meet them for how long?” A deep, growling and carrying voice came in response as Maddie readied a weapon.

“Yeah, that’s the problem. You don’t want to, trust me.”

“Seems he doesn’t have a very high opinion of ghost hunters, eh Mads?” Jack was less noticeably readied, still half crouched near the footprint, but his hand hovered where a weapon was concealed. She focused on her breathing as the sound grew louder, eyes narrowed as she spotted a large figure cresting the nearby hill. With the little white haired ghost boy completely at ease near it. Nothing like his regular behaviour, let alone the talking. Why would this huge beast know of them?

“What did I say about not shooting people?” Phantom actually seemed to blush on seeing her holding the weapon, smacking his face. “Okay, you saw them, bye now!”

The large furred creature ignored how the smaller ghost pushed at their shoulder, instead waving with a horrific ice claw, bones gleaming from within as it seemed to rip at the very air. “Well our first meeting was hardly perfect either, I can manage.”

“Yeah but I can’t just pull a ‘won’t shoot a big yeti’ icicle out of their jumpsuits!”

For a human loving ghost, Phantom was certainly very concerned about this giant horned monster being harmed by ‘mere humans’. More proof of his act, at least. Though the large creature did have a cloak of some sort and clothing. He spoke well, if you ignored the fanged mouth and growls. A strange contradiction of appearance and intent. That wasn’t a normal thing for ghosts either, you could gather a decent amount about one by how they looked. So why was this one chatting and apparently interested in seeing two humans? “So, you’re the ‘Frostbite’ he mentioned?” She hazarded a guess, but wasn’t going to put the gun away.

It showed its fangs, maw wide and unnerving. “Yes, I am! It is an honour to meet you” The furry head bowed slightly, as if trying a sort of nod of respect. “Your work assisted the Great One in vanquishing Pariah Dark, we all owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“Please don’t call me that. Especially in front of them!” the green eyed ghost practically squawked, somehow flushing even harder when he didn’t even have blood.

Maddie’s mind almost flipped over from the sheer confusion of what this terrifying ghost said. They had ‘helped’ vanquish something? More likely, Phantom had stolen something. So why did this ghost still give them credit? That wasn’t even starting to touch why the ghost boy would be considered great in any aspect. “Assisted him? Do you mean with that ghost who took our town into the Ghost Zone?” She wasn’t sure if that was what the ‘king’ ghost was called, but it made more sense than anything else she could think of.

“Indeed. The King of All Ghosts would have sent the infinite realms into chaos and conflict. Of course we are grateful for your help in preventing that.”

“That’s when you stole the Ecto Skeleton!” Jack spoke up, no longer tense. “You never brought it back.”

“That’s not my fault, that thing almost wasted me! It was gone once I woke up!” The boy objected, but seemed to settle down when the larger ghost ruffled his hair. “I wanted to bring it back.”

“I’m sure now they understand how vitally important that technology was, for your world and ours.” The ghost’s yellow eyes watched them expectantly, the unnerving void of pointed daggers thankfully closed now.

“Well it did get Amity back where it belonged.” Losing the Ecto Skeleton had been a blow, but an acceptable one to get back to normal. The fact that more ghosts seemed to know and care about their part of it was somewhat unnerving. She very much doubted Phantom just ‘lost’ it either. Jack suffered from the demands of the suit, but the ghost was just ectoplasm and electricity. Quite unlikely he could be drained that much, it wasn’t meant for ghosts to use in the first place.

“Your world? Doesn’t the kid live here?” Jack asked, making his wife blink. She hadn’t noticed that odd phrasing.

“No, no. The Great One prefers the human world and his friends. How are they doing?”

He froze up, eyes flicking to the hunters and back to the yeti. “Fine. They’re great.” He darted closer to the two hunters, gesturing at them to move. “Okay let’s go.”

How much interacting was this ghost doing with humans to have ‘friends’ it told other ghosts about? They could be in danger, or used as targets! “No no, we’d love to hear about your friends.”

“Nope, you don’t, gotta get home right? Big hurry, don’t trust me, remember?” He was practically pleading with them.

Frostbite’s ears twitched as he tilted his head. “Don’t trust you? Surely they’re the ones who taught your friends how to drive that craft of yours?”

Phantom had the gall to turn invisible.

“We were unaware anyone other than us was using it, actually.” Maddie didn’t bother to keep the frost from her voice.

“Ah, well at least the good news is I already knew how to make a replacement battery for it when the Great One came asking for help.” His tail twitched, as one of the great claws scratched at his furry chest. “It should be good as new once you can install it.”

So not only was this ghost stealing technology and bringing humans to the ghost zone, it was teaching other ghosts how it worked! The second that ghost was in their grasp, he’d have some serious answering to do. “Do all of you call him that?” It was the only question she could ask without wishing to spit acid, quite frankly.

“All of the Far Frozen recognize him as such, but not all ghosts are the same. He should be proud of the title, a savour of two worlds.”

“Frostbite I’m begging you, stop! It’s embarrassing!” The ghost dropped his invisibility, still looking more like a flustered kid instead of the heroics seeking fame junkie he was.

“Well if it helps your relationship with these ghost hunters, I think it is important that they know.”

“Yeah no. Let’s not.”

It felt like there was something the two ghosts weren’t saying. That, and the fact Phantom didn’t seem to like being hailed as a hero here in the Ghost Zone didn’t make sense. Why all the grandstanding in Amity then?

“Well we’ll be glad for the lift home. You shouldn’t steal from us, kid.” Jack tried a stern approach, and the ghost actually flinched from the rebuke.

“You’re not the only ones who want to map this place out, that’s all,” he didn’t really seem to be answering them, more talking to himself before launching himself at the Speeder again. “You can shoot at me about it back home or whatever.”

“Travel safely! Do try and explore your other half more often, Great one. You’re always welcome here.” His great furry head watched them all easily, seeking out the ghost hunters eyes as well. "I understand you are less interested, but you are welcome to see the realities of my home as well. It may surprise you, in a good way."

She desperately wanted to ask what that monster of a ghost meant by that, but managed to hold her tongue. If all the ghosts here saw Phantom as some sort of godlike hero, chewing him out here wasn’t safe. Jack’s small nod of agreement and warm hug helped, but it couldn’t stop her mind churning. They’d seen and hurt so much, and none of it made any sense! This Frostbite just threw in several more wrenches in the works with only a few sentences, but with how agitated Phantom was getting now wasn’t the time to push their luck. Perhaps when the shoe was on the other foot, and the boy needed their assistance.

He didn’t speak up or grumble this time as they left the frozen land behind. Though that might be them as well,m sitting close together and considering the notes and samples they had taken. That and the huge list of questions Jack had scrawled down in the margins of a sketch of Frostbite. How could a ghost like Phantom truly manage to stay in the human world most of the time? Did it have to do with this ‘other half’ that ghost had mentioned? Would knowing what it was reveal a weakness in the ghost? So many questions, but no answers. Why had Phantom even let them speak to any ghosts, considering how badly he’d reacted to some of the information given? He couldn’t genuinely be wanting to help.

The inviting glow of the portal appeared sooner than either of them could expect, the ghost dropping the ship on the lab floor with a loud clunk.

“See? Home. No ‘evil plan’” he floated into view, and she was fairly sure he only did so to make those air quotes with his hands.

“So you say, ghost kid. Don’t think we won’t be checking for tricks!”

“Yeah sure,” he shrugged, grinning after a moment. “Oh hey, by the way, you do know what the Speeder is powered with, right?”

Maddie didn’t actually know how to take that question. “Of course we do, we built it!”

“Uh huh.” His grin widened as he kicked back, legs vanishing into that strange tail. “All you had to do was take the cover off. It’s the Ghost Zone! There’s ectoplasm everywhere! I just had Frostbite make a backup.”

...Had they really- They had. They’d been dragged around by a ghost for no reason at all! “Why you little-”

He kept laughing before turning and getting out of the way. “Thanks for flying with Phantom Zone Tours! I’m out.” A jaunty wave and he was gone, leaving two baffled ghost hunters behind.

“I think some fudge is in order after that!”

She couldn’t say he was wrong. Maybe fudge could make sense of that whole affair. All that for a prank? It didn’t add up. They’d have a lot of work to do.