#given the greens and the blacks and genetics and all that

[haveihitanerve]

Four Times the Batkids Forget They're Adopted, and The One Time Damian Forgets He Isn't

It had started off as a joke, as most things do, and Dick meant nothing behind it, really. It was amusing to him, actually, to tell his coworkers things about Batman and pass it off as his father. “Oh my dad? Yeah hes not big on talking. He loves showing me he cares though.” (this was, of course, in reference to Batman doing three back flips and a kick split when Nightwing had patrolled with him the other day, a classic Nightwing move) But it soon…went deeper. Dick stopped making jokes out of it, and actually began listing things about Bruce. About his Dad. It didn't help that his police friends were actually interested. “So did you and the old man do anything fun over the weekend?” Dick thought back to how he had wanted to surprise Bruce by stopping by for dinner and instead had ended up in the sewer eating granola bars on a stakeout for killer croc, who had escaped. Again. “Oh yeah we had a picnic.” Dick nodded, smiling at Randy. “Yeah. He’s, he’s kinda bad at remembering when to eat a meal on time and all that.” Dick laughed. “Its something I share too. Must be genetics.” He rolled his eyes. Randy laughed, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “I hear you. My old man smoked all the live long day. I try to keep it down, but that addiction gene is just strong eh?” Dick chuckled. “Yeah I guess.” His phone buzzed in his pocket and he waved to Randy, turning to tug it out. It was one, simple message from Babs. “Ur adopted genius. What genes.” 

Jason didn't even know how they had gotten on the topic. But here they were. “Yes. I got my mothers hair, of course, but I get my temper from my father.” Artemis was saying. “I have parents.” Bizarro grunted. Roy laughed, smacking him on the shoulder. “Well you certainly didn't get Kal’s looks buddy. But you do have his killer hair.” Starfire laughed. “That is true. I, for one, share my parents hair and have my fathers powers. But truly the best gene I was given were my mothers eyes.” They all turned to Jason. “What about you?” Roy asked. Jason scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, I used to have my dads eyes but um after the pit y'know,” He waved to his now green eyes. “And actually I have my dads dark black hair, and he’s graying early too, which might be why my white streak is so prominent.” They nodded in agreement. “But yeah, hes actually a little taller than me so maybe I’ll still grow a few inches but uh yeah. I don't… remember my mother enough to talk about her.” “Dang man. I wish we could meet your dad.” Roy murmured, laying a comforting hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Then we could really compare. I mean-” He laughed. “You sound like his carbon copy.” Jason frowned at his friend. “What do you mean? You’ve met Bruce?” They stared at him. “Jason,” Artemis began slowly. “Aren't you adopted?” 

Tim hunched over the information form, eyes straining to read the small print. His hand reached up to stifle a yawn and he settled for a sigh instead. It was late, but Tim needed to get the form done before he went to bed, otherwise everything would be far too stressful in the morning. He reached over and grabbed his coffee mug, a dark black cup that had a red R painted on it poorly. Bruce had made it for him a few years ago when he had first become Red Robin. He sipped it, staring down at the medical form. “Gods I hate having to do this.” He muttered, but reluctantly grabbed the thick medical binder Alfred had obligingly gotten for him when he had asked for medical records of the family. Tim did not under any circumstances, have to sit at the doctors office the next day and somehow lie his way through all the medical questions relating to his family history. He didn't have the time nor patience for it, and it was crucial he was given proper medical advice what with his missing spleen. “Any history of heart issues Bruce?” Tim muttered, flipping back past Martha and Thomas to Bruce’s great great great grandfather. “Nope, guess not.” Tim was halfway through the form when he realized the blood coursing through his veins wasn't Bruce’s. 

Steph rubbed a hand across her belly, staring at the monitor. “Your baby looks good Ms. Brown. They’re at the proper stage. Due in about two months. We’ll see you back here for your next check up.” “thank you doctor.” Steph murmured, sliding off the bed and dressing quickly before hurrying out to her car. The car door slammed shut behind her and she breathed, pressing her forehead to the steering wheel. Her phone buzzed. She lifted it and pressed it to her ear, hitting accept. “Hello?” “hey Steph.” Bruce’s voice vibrated through the phone. “How was your doctors appointment?” Steph gave a bitter laugh. “Everything looks good. The baby will come in about two months.” “Thats good. Thats real good.” Steph nodded, eyes closed. “You doing okay Stephanie?” Bruce asked, voice soft. “I don't know.” her voice broke and she squeezed her eyes shut, fighting tears. “I just- I’m so scared Bruce. So scared.” Bruce hummed comfortingly through the phone. “I know Steph. Its scary. And parenting, its hard.” Steph coughed out a watery chuckle. “Was that a hit?” She muttered, rubbing a hand over her face. Bruce chuckled. “No. Baby it wasn't. And just think, you’ll get to see all the firsts I didn't get with you. Their first steps. Their first wave. You might even get to hear them say mama before i kidnap- i mean adopt him or her.” Steph laughed again, and it sounded less watery. “Yeah. Well, when do kids start walking?” She asked in interest, sniffing and sitting up straight again. Bruce hummed. “Well i started walking almost immediately, but Im special.” Steph laughed. “Of course.” “alfred said i first started talking when I was around thirteen months old, and Talia said Damian was walking by ten, but she could have been lying.” Steph nodded. “Tell me more.” She whispered. Bruce obliged, happy to distract her. “Oh and whats probably going to be your favorite, babies, or at least I did, start laughing at around four months.” “laughing?” Steph gasped. “Oh Brucie!!! Thats too funny! Little chubby baby you, the future batman, laughing!” She cooed. She could almost feel his eye roll through the phone and stifled her laugh. “So yeah..” Bruce finished. “You should expect your kiddo to start walking around then. And laughing probably sooner. I would have if you'd be in my life at that time.” Steph was quiet. “Thank you B.” He hummed. “Anytime Steph. I’ll always be here to help you.” “Wait wait wait-” a new voice joined in the background of Bruce. “Are you guys serious right now?” Steph identified it as Jason. “What?” Bruce asked puzzled. “B, Stephs adopted. Her kid is as likely to walk at the same time you did as when she did!” 

“Damian?” “Go away Drake.” Damian called back, riffling through the papers. “Dami?” Tim poked his head into his younger brothers room. “Oh hey kiddo. Whatcha doing?” “I am busy Timothy.” Damian countered in annoyance, shoving the box back under his bed and moving to his desk. “What are you looking for?” Tim asked puzzled. Damian ignored him. “Dami.” “Go away Timothy.” Tim crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Come on Baby Bird. Tell me.” Damian shook his head, covering the blush on his cheeks by poking behind the desk. “Damian.” Tim’s hand was suddenly on his back. Damian jumped. Tim held up his hands in surrender. “Just tell me. I’m sure I can help you find it.” Damian sighed in acceptance, cheeks pink. “I have.. Lost my adoption papers.” He muttered, staring at the floor. But Tim didn't laugh or ridicule him. In fact, when he looked up, his brother seemed thoughtful. “Well i know me and dick and jason have them hung over our beds…” His gaze drifted to the very clearly empty space above Damians bed. “I know.” Damian jerked his head in a nod. “That is why I wished to find it.” Tim nodded in understanding. “Well, lets go look in the den. Thats where Alfred keeps all the legal stuff.” Damian trailed after his brother to the living room and watched as he opened the cabinet and pulled out three boxes. “You look through this one, I’ll search these two.” Tim ordered. Damian nodded, accepting the box. It was where Alfred found them, two hours later, broom in hand. “My dear sirs, what are you doing?” The butler asked in bafflement. “Looking for Damians adoption record.” Tim answered, nose still in some papers. Alfred looked at them. “Master Tim. Master Damian.” The two boys looked up. “Yes Alfred?” Tim asked. Alfred's face was fond and utterly confused. “Master Damian is not adopted. He is Master Bruce’s blood son.” 

@nonepizzawithleftglitter @zombiewithaflowercrown

you asked and you shall recieve!

[navree]

Hey, hello!

I was wondering what you thought but something regarding the relationship between Viserys and his non-Rhae children: How much do you think of V's neglect of A's children might be caused by A dressing them in greens?

(I'm in no way suggesting this rw the children or A's fault. He was a grown man who decided that, instead of trying to avoid the need of green by dotting on his children, he would made the abyss between them bigger which caused a bigger divide between blacks and greens and didn't allow for A and her children to feel así if they were safe)

Hey, thanks so much for the ask!!! Always down to talk about the Greens and slam Viserys for being a shit, lol.

It's an interesting idea, but I don't think the color green necessarily had too much to do with it. It likely contributed to the gulf growing between Alicent's children and Rhaenyra's children, considering that it became public knowledge that "the greens" was the shorthand for people partial to Alicent's side (and the claims of her children and their families over Rhaenyra's children), and likely could have signaled to Rhaenyra and her people that they shouldn't see these children necessarily as members of the family but as an entire separate faction (which is still stupid). But I don't think it contributed to how Viserys saw the children all that much.

Viserys's issue when Alicent showed up in The Green Dress at the wedding feast was that Alicent, by arriving not only late but also while he was talking, and in such stunning fashion, was upstaging him, taking the attention away from him and focusing it squarely on her. Harwin says that "the king will not like this, right in the middle of his speech" because Alicent, as a wife and a queen, isn't supposed to have attention shone down on her, she's supposed to be a support and a prop for her husband. That's why that scene was also so pivotal to Alicent's character, because after being a tool used by Otto (for his dynastic ambitions) and Viserys (for his sexual pleasures and his desire for male heirs) and even Rhaenyra (for her plans to get people to believe her lie re: that night in King's Landing over what others might say), she finally decided to be her own person and make this public moment her own, along with the subtle messaging through using not necessarily House Hightower colors, but the colors House Hightower specifically uses to show that they're at war. If Alicent had worn any other color, Viserys still would have been annoyed, because she still would be arriving as an independent and attention drawing woman, rather than just someone on his arm.

It's also that Viserys never shows a problem with Alicent wearing green after that. It's strange, he doesn't care about her as a person all that much, and has no concern with her physical or mental wellbeing, but he does like her. He liked her as a companion during their "courtship", he somewhat enjoyed her company in the moments we saw in episodes 3 and 4, and he certainly likes having her as a nursemaid after the first timejump. So I don't think he would have minded that Alicent was wearing green, or dressing their kids in green either; Rhaenyra wore a lot of yellow in the first four episodes of the show but that doesn't mean that he was starting to think she was declaring her allegiance to the Lannisters or Baratheons.

Viserys's neglect of his children by Alicent, and their own reticence towards him, is ultimately due to a lot of factors: his love for Aemma and guilt over her death caused him to blatantly favor Rhaenyra over any of them to an extraordinary degree, the rift between their mother also influenced any lack of closeness they had towards Rhaenyra specifically, even beyond the age gap, which didn't endear them to him either (because that's what kids need to do Viserys, they need to show you that they're worthy of your time and attention, I hate him!!), and the children themselves most likely started distancing themselves from him and stopped trying to get close (especially after Driftmark where Aemond had to learn that his dad doesn't care about him even if he's grievously injured and Aegon is screamed and treated so dismissively with Viserys calling him "boy" as if that ain't his fucking kid, and Helaena was also a witness of that whole exchange as well), which meant that not only was there no instigation on his part, there was nothing to respond to.

And as they grew older, continuing to dress so firmly on their mother's side of things, while Viserys became increasingly infirm, that might have widened the gulf somewhat. But I think whatever part it played in adding to his treatment of Aegon and Helaena and Aemond (and Daeron, wherever you are bby) was likely negligible.

[bootleg-nessie]

Rating band names based on their accuracy:

(I keep updating this list so check back later)

The Beatles: 3/10. None of these people are beetles, they’re just a bunch of fruity guys from Liverpool with matching haircuts

(Edit: changed from 0/10 to 3/10 because John Lennon beat his wife)

Pink Floyd: 4/10. There is not a single person named Floyd in the band, but some of the members do arguably look kinda pink

Nirvana: 10/10. Getting high and listening to Nirvana is roughly what I imagine actual nirvana to be like

Foo Fighters: either 0/10 or 10/10. I have never seen foo in real life so either they’re pretending to fight a problem that doesn’t exist or they’re doing an absolutely fantastic job of fighting it

The Eagles: 0/10. Same as the Beatles, there is not a single eagle in this band. The name is misleading and we have all been lied to

Queen: 6/10. Partial points for Freddie Mercury

Led Zeppelin: 0/10. I don’t think any of these guys have ever even seen a zeppelin, let alone one made of lead. A lead balloon would crash faster than my hopes and dreams

The Rolling Stones: 3/10. There is not a single stone in this band. Some points added because I’m pretty sure they rolled quite a few

U2: 0/10. Despite what the name says, I am not a member of this band

Metallica: 9/10. Naming a metal band “Metallica” is like naming your dog “doggy”

Red Hot Chili Peppers: 2/10. These guys are not chili peppers. They’re not even that hot, let alone red hot

Guns N’ Roses: 0/10. How the fuck could a gun or a flower play music

Backstreet Boys: ?/10. Depends entirely on their current given location

Simon and Garfunkel: 10/10. No notes

The Doors: 1/10. Jim Morrison is kinda shaped like a door tho

Chicago: 4/10. The number of people in this band does not come even remotely close to the population of Chicago. Points added because it originated in Chicago

Earth, wind, and fire: 2/10. This is even more innacurate than Chicago. Points added because wind instruments were often used

Def Leppard: 3/10. There is not a single leopard in this band. Some of the members are probably kinda deaf by now tho

The Beach Boys: ?/10. Accuracy depends entirely on location

The Black Eyed Peas: 6/10. Not sure what the hell an ‘eyed pea’ is but the black part is pretty accurate

Imagine Dragons: ?/10. Depends entirely on whether or not they’re thinking about dragons.

Cage the Elephant: 1/10. Why would you do that. Let the elephant go

Green Day: 0/10. They’re not even green

The Police: 0/10. There is not a single cop in this band

KISS: 5/10. I’m sure they probably kissed sometimes

The Monkees: 0/10. Are you fucking kidding me

We Butter the Bread with Butter: 8/10. I can’t verify this but I have no reason to suspect that they’d lie. Butter seems like the most logical thing to butter bread with

King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard: 0/10. I got really excited about the concept of a lizard wizard only to be let down. My disappointment is immeasurable

They Might Be Giants: 5/10. I googled everyone in this band’s height, the tallest guy’s only 6’1 so I wouldn’t exactly consider him a giant. Then again, I can’t really argue because the claim was only that they MIGHT be giants

The Presidents of the United States of America: 2/10. None of these people are Joe Biden nor are any of them former presidents. This is incredibly misleading. I’m pretty sure “Lump” was written about my first girlfriend tho so I’ll give them a point or two

Gorillaz: 2/10 Not quite but we’re kinda close genetically so I’ll give them partial credit

The Killers: ?/10. I have no way of verifying if they’ve actually killed before but the fact that they’re not in prison tells me probably not

The Offspring: 10/10. These guys are definitely somebody’s offspring

Arctic Monkeys: 1/10. They are neither monkeys nor are they from the arctic

Thirty Seconds to Mars: 1/10. It takes WAY longer to get to mars than that

Beastie Boys: 8/10. They’re pretty beast on the guitar

Jimmy Eat World: 1/10. Slow the fuck down Jimmy, you’re biting off way more than you can chew

Hole: 9/10. One point deducted because I’m pretty sure they had more than one hole

Rage Against the Machine: 10/10. They did exactly that

Alice In Chains: 0/10. This is illegal. Let Alice go

The Band: 10/10. This could not possibly be more accurate

Nine Inch Nails: 1/10. I can’t find any good pictures of their feet but from what I can tell their fingernails definitely aren’t nine inches long

Bush: ?/10. Not quite sure about this one, felt uncomfortable asking

The Who: 2/10. I’m not dealing with this “Who’s On First” bullshit

Radiohead: 0/10. Not a single person in this band has a radio for a head

Queens of the Stone Age: 0/10. This band should be called “five random dudes from the modern era” but FRDFTMA is a bit of a mouthful

Soundgarden: 2/10. Sound does not grow in the garden

Sonic Youth: 5/10. They’re not exactly youth anymore but the sonic part checks out

Talking heads: 8/10. There’s more to the band than just a bunch of disembodied heads but the heads do tend to talk

The Cranberries: 0/10. Decent music but I only added them so that the Beatles and Freddie Mercury weren’t the only fruits on this list

The Wiggles: 8/10. They do tend to wiggle a lot

Blue Man Group: 10/10. Yep!

Weezer: 5/10. They all look like they definitely have asthma

Limp Bizkit: 3/10. While the visual image of baked goods playing the guitar is hilarious, Fred durst is not a biscuit. Points added because he probably has erectile dysfunction

Stone Temple Pilots: 0/10. None of these people are accredited as being licensed to pilot anything, much less an entire stone temple. Stone temples don’t need pilots anyways

Wasted Youth: 8/10. I guess it really kinda depends on how you frame it but yeah, they probably wasted a lot of it

Them Crooked Vultures: 3/10. These are people and not birds but Dave Grohl’s posture is kinda bad and John Paul Jones is so old that his neck kinda looks like a vulture’s so I added some points

Audioslave: 0/10. Slavery is illegal

Traveling Wilburys: 4/10. Sure, they traveled a lot but not a single one of those lying bastards was named Wilbury

D12: 6/12. There were only 6 people in this band

NWA: 10/10. I’m a little too white to safely comment on this one but I’d say they nailed it

Jet: 1/10. A real jet would be way too loud

Goldfinger: 0/10. Not a single person in this band has a finger made out of gold

No Doubt: ?/10. I can’t really be too sure how Gwen Stefani felt but I think it’s probably a safe assumption that she had some doubts

The White Stripes: 3/10. I bet if you stripped them down naked and made them stand shoulder to shoulder and squinted really hard they’d probably look more like white stripes

Screaming trees: 3/10. They scream occasionally

Garbage: 2/10. I think they’re being a little harsh on themselves, their music isn’t THAT bad

Butthole Surfers: 5/10. Not even gonna touch this one

Megadeth: 3/10. To be fair, some of the former members are dead but only a little amount of death, not mega death

Dead Kennedys: 2/10. Last I checked Kennedy was still dead but neither he nor his clones are members of this band

Cake: 0/10. The cake is a lie

Cracker: 8/10. Most of them are

Tool: 7/10. I don’t know much about their music but they sure look like tools

Counting Crows: ?/10. Is this what emo kids do instead of counting sheep? Accuracy depends on whatever bird they happen to be counting at the moment

Dave Matthews Band: 10/10. It certainly is

Oasis: 1/10. Their music is the opposite of an oasis

Blur: 2/10. They are not that fast

Barenaked Ladies: 0/10. If I wanted to be this disappointed I’d reestablish a connection with my biological father instead

Meat Puppets: 10/10. Technically, aren’t we all?

Live: 8/10. Apparently they still do live shows but I deducted some points because I’ve only ever heard their music on Spotify

ABBA: 9/10. I’m still not giving any points to Guns N’ Roses but that’s mostly out of spite

5 Finger Death Punch: 8/10 I guess it probably depends on how hard you hit them but this seems to be the usual amount of fingers to punch somebody with

All American Rejects: 9/10. They’re all rejects from America so I don’t really see any issue with this

T. Rex: 0/10. Even if any of these people WAS a T. Rex I don’t think their arms would be long enough to play their instruments

Free: 0/10. Unless you steal their music, in which case it becomes a 10/10

The Strokes: 3/10. To my knowledge, none of them have had a stroke but I still added a few points because the name was probably accurate for other reasons

The Smashing Pumpkins ?/10. Another thing I have no way of verifying but this seems like a waste of perfectly good pumpkins

Therapy?: ?/10. The hell are they asking me for? I don’t know their medical history

Twenty One Pilots. 0/10. There’s only two of them and neither is a licensed pilot

Finger Eleven: 0/10. Leave the poor Stranger Things girl out of this

Fall Out Boy: 9/10. I conferred with an expert on this one who confirmed that they are in fact boys who had a falling out

Cream: 8/10. Considering this was the OG supergroup I’m sure a lot of people did in fact cream when their music came out

Edit: humans aren’t fucking monkeys. Stop saying we are

[shakespeareanwannabe]

As You Wish, Chapter 1

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister, reader is described as having a tattoo and goes by Buttercup, verbal arguing, almost physical fighting, alcohol use, references to death and loss and mourning

Jake’s House, a few months after the Uranium Mission

When she had been invited to Miramar to visit her older brother, Robert Floyd, she had been given two ground rules. Follow all of Robby’s instructions so as to not get into trouble with the locals or the top brass. And do not fall for Hangman’s charms.

The first rule was easy. She was a rule follower by nature, allowing herself to be ruled by her brain and her built in sense of logic, so following Robby’s lead was easy. And she’d assumed that the second rule would be easy as well. Anyone named Hangman was not someone she was interested in getting to know, especially since her brother had told her almost a year ago that the man earned the nickname by always leaving his wingmen hanging as he chased the glory for himself. Though Robby had seemed to relax his personal views of Hangman after their latest top secret mission, he remained firm that he wasn’t going to allow his baby sister to become one of his co-worker’s (dare he say friend’s) conquests.

And yet, here she was, three months after she was supposed to leave to go back to New York, cuddled up on Hangman’s couch as they settled in for another movie night. So much for letting her brain rule and following her innate logic.

Her brain was mush and her logic had gone out the window the second he’d asked her to stay, and she knew it wouldn’t be coming back so long as he was tracing his long fingers up and down the length of her spine as she laid on his chest, her head slowly rising and falling as they watched her all time favourite movie.

She sighed happily as she felt his plush lips press into her hairline.

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” he whispered as two characters sword fought on screen.

“How happy I am,” she murmured into his chest. “And how lucky. I’m lucky I found you, lucky my job is letting me work remote, lucky to feel so happy.”

Jake pulled her closer, tangling their legs together beneath the light throw blanket that had been tossed over them. “I’m happy too,” he whispered, watching as the main character on screen was now struggling to fight a giant. “Even though I have zero idea what is happening in this movie,” he added with a chuckle.

“That’s because you’ve been too busy trying to cop a feel to pay attention to a seminal classic of our generation.”

“Can you blame me? You’re literally on top of me. No guy in his right mind is going to pass up that kind of opportunity.”

She giggled. “Well, try to focus because my favourite part is coming up.”

Jake pouted but agreed, watching as the man in black outwitted the smaller man, grabbed the princess, and took off running.

“This is your favourite part?” he chuckled as the man in black mocked the princess’s pain.

“Would you hush?” she clapped a hand over his mouth, then shrieked as he licked her palm. “You’re disgusting!” she giggled, wiping her hand down his shirt. “Ooh! This is it!” She turned her attention completely to the screen as the princess shoved her captor down a large hill.

“As…you…wish!” the man called as he tumbled head over heels, the princess following straight after him.

“There had to be an easier way to follow him down the hill,” Jake joked.

“Jake!” she whined, craning her head to look at him from her position against his chest. “She doesn’t care! Buttercup doesn’t feel any pain. Her Westley is alive, so she’s so happy she could fly! Now stop ruining it!”

��Alright, I’m sorry. Hey…” he pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’m sorry. Thank you for sharing this with me, Buttercup.”

She blinked, her head cocking to the side in an inquisitive display that made him melt. “Buttercup?”

“Yeah. You’re brave and clever and loyal, definitely stubborn, and I have no doubt that you’d push someone down a hill for insulting you if you knew you could get away with it. Plus…” he pressed a sweet kiss to her lips this time, grinning as she gasped lightly. “I’d definitely fight a determined Hispanic swordfighter, a giant, and a conniving Wallace Shawn to keep you safe.”

She giggled, resting her head back on his chest. “Buttercup…I kinda like that.”

Camp Silver Star, Now

Abby quickly settled into her cabin, a cozy wooden building with four sets of bunk beds and large windows that opened onto the woods that surrounded them. Her cabinmates were nice enough, not judging her for her slight British accent, though there were some questions as to why a child with family in the American military had a British accent. However, by the end of the first day as the eight girls shared stories and jokes about their lives. They had all been impressed when they found out that her mum was a famous author, most of the girls recognizing her mother’s penname from their own bookshelves back home, and even more impressed when they found out her uncle and aunt had flown with the near infamous Dagger Squad. Most of the girls in her cabin had family in the Navy, so they were at least semi familiar with stories of the defunct but elite squad of fighter pilots. Her mum had been right, in a way. Being around other children who had family in the military (whether they were currently serving or retired, like her aunt and uncle) was a bonding experience. Plus, it helped that she genuinely liked the other girls. They were friendly and two of them, her bunkmate Isabelle and her friend Max, even wanted to be fighter pilots, just like her.

Abby could feel the sting of homesickness fade with every day that passed. She filed things away in her brain, stories that she wanted to share with her mum when she was able to call her on Phone Home Fridays, activities she wanted to continue once she was back home, jokes she wanted to tell her aunt to see if she could earn a rare smile. She even planned on begging Penny, the owner of the camp, for some of her recipes to take home, because the food was absolutely delicious.

Abby sniffed as the scent of maple and salt hit her nose as the door to the dining cabin was thrown open and her troop strolled inside for breakfast on the first Friday of her visit to camp. Pancakes were apparently a Friday morning tradition at Camp Silver Star, and Abby could feel herself salivating at the very thought. She was about to make a beeline for the breakfast counter when she heard a voice calling her name.

“Abby!” Max pouted. “My braid came undone. Can you help?”

Abby rolled her eyes fondly. Max had extremely curly hair and always complained about it getting in her eyes when they were doing activities, so Abby had started braiding it for her.

“Yes,” she called back, eyeing the long line of campers jealously as she turned her back on the table laden with all her breakfast favourites, just missing a young camper rushing behind her to bypass the line and go straight to the woman manning the tongs.

“Hey Amelia, does the fruit salad have cantaloupe in it? Because I’m allergic,” Charlie stated, holding out her bowl of fruit salad. She’d been so distracted by the delicious smells and the juicy gossip she was sharing with her friends that she had totally missed that very crucial detail.

“Oh shoot! Yeah, it does. Sorry, Charlie. I’ll talk to the cooks about leaving cantaloupe out of the fruit salad. You and another camper are allergic, so that really can’t be happening.”

“Thanks, Amelia. I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, and I’ll appreciate not getting yelled at by your dad for letting you go into anaphylactic shock,” Amelia winked and Charlie grinned. She’d known Amelia just as long as she’d known Penny, given that Amelia was Penny’s daughter and she’d been present for all visits and memorials for her stepdad.

“Don’t worry. Your mom still scares him, so he wouldn’t yell. Too much.”

Amelia rolled her eyes playfully. “Thank god for small miracles.”

Charlie waved and walked over to her cabin’s table, not paying any attention to the camper who had just sidled up to the breakfast table.

“Good morning,” Abby chirped happily as Amelia turned away from her to grab a plate. “I have a quick question about your fruit salad, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, kiddo. What’s up?”

“Would there happen to be cantaloupe in your fruit salad? I’m unfortunately allergic.”

Amelia’s brow furrowed as she turned back to face the camper. “I already to — oh!” She blinked as though she was trying to erase a sudden case of double vision. “Oh. A-Abigail, right?” When the camper nodded at her, she giggled nervously. “Yeah. Abigail. Hi. Hi. I’m—I’m Amelia. W-we know about your allergy. You a-and another student—I mean—camper have the same allergy. I…I’m gonna go talk to the cooks right now and make sure they know not to put any more cantaloupe in the fruit salad. Okay?” Amelia rambled, backing up and almost bumping into a cook bringing out a hot tray of bacon. “Oops! Sorry, Ralph! Can you take over for me for a quick second? Thank you!”

Abby was left scratching her head, wondering why the breakfast lady was so jumpy, and particularly curious as to why she could be heard running towards the main office screaming, “MOM!”

Abby and her cabin had spent the morning in the flight simulator, which had only served to cement her desire to be a Navy aviator like her aunt and uncle. She couldn’t wait until later that afternoon, when she could use the computers to video chat with her family back home and tell them all about how she had almost made it to the end of the program without crashing once. Until then, her cabin, Cabin 4, was scheduled with Cabin 7 for horseback riding. And while Abby was an accomplished English rider, she would much rather be joining the queue at the computer building. But, since she couldn’t skip the activity, she lined up with the rest of her cabinmates along the wooden fence that sectioned off the riding ring.

A girl inside the ring was just finishing up her turn on a small course of jumps that had been set up at the opposite end of the ring.

“Way to go, Charlie!” the riding instructor called as the girl, riding a large palomino, trotted back to the entrance of the ring.

“No sweat,” the girl, Charlie, shrugged as she dismounted with ease and patted the horse’s neck. “Champ’s a sweetheart, and that course is nothing compared to the one back home.”

The instructor, Karen, rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, we shouldn’t expect anything less from the ranch girl from Texas. Would anyone like to try to top Charlie’s time?” she called, looking down the line at the rest of the campers.

“I’ll give it a go,” Abby volunteered, adjusting her helmet and leading her horse, Rosita, towards the gate. “I’m a pretty decent rider.”

“I’m not sure ‘pretty decent’ is going to cut it, but suit yourself,” Charlie retorted as she passed.

“Charlie, be nice!” Karen barked, her eyes scanning over Rosita’s tack to make sure it was properly fitted.

“Sorry, Karen,” Charlie replied in a tone that suggested to Abby that the apology was less than sincere.

Abby rolled her eyes and mounted up, patting Rosita’s chestnut hide as she settled into the saddle.

“Don’t let Charlie get to you, okay?” Karen murmured, tightening the girth of Rosita’s saddle. “She’s a nice kid, just a little…”

“Ostentatious?” 

Karen stifled a smile. “You all set?”

Abby nodded, gathering her reins and clicking her tongue. “I’ve got this.”

Charlie smirked as the other camper started off at a trot, but that smirk slowly faded as she and the horse started going through the course with ease, clearing the jumps and obstacles with greater ease than she and Champ had. She was left to scoff as the pair cleared the last jump with ease and cantered back to the starting line, the kids from Cabin 4 cheering her on as Karen announced that she had beat her time by one and a half seconds.

“It’s alright, Charlie. You’ll get her next time,” assured Ryann, her bunkmate, as they led their horses back to the stables to groom them and bed them down for the night.

“It’s probably because she was riding English style,” Charlie grumped. “Everyone knows its easier to jump in English style.”

“That’s not true and you know it,” a posh voice sounded behind them, and Charlie rolled her eyes.

“How would you know? Have you ever tried to ride Western?” Charlie challenged, stepping closer. The girl didn’t back down, clipping her horse onto the tether outside the stall and stepping up to her.

“No. Have you ever tried riding English?”

“No, but—”

“Then you can’t claim that one is easier than the other, can you?”

The other girls from Cabin 4 laughed, and Charlie felt her blood boil. She hated being laughed at. It happened enough at her school back home and she absolutely despised it.

“Yeah, well English riders are usually stuck up rich kids anyway. How much did your mommy and daddy spend to teach you how to ride like that?” she snapped, feeling her face flush with anger and envy.

Abby felt tears pool in her eyes. “I…I mean…”

“Why are the horses just standing around, not being groomed?” Karen questioned as she strolled in from the office, taking in the stiffness between the two girls and the heaviness in the air.

“I…it’s nothing, Karen,” Abby murmured, taking her helmet off and pulling her hair out of its low bun.

“Yeah. We’re fine,” Charlie added on, removing her helmet and allowing her blond hair to cascade over her shoulders, ignoring the gasp of surprise from those around her.

Charlie turned to put her helmet on the shelf at the same time as Abby, their eyes locking with hurt and anger glimmering beneath the matching green seas.

Abby’s eyes blinked in shock and Charlie schooled her features.

“What are you looking at?” she muttered.

“I…I mean, we…”

“You two are practically identical!” Ryann screeched, the horses nickering in surprise.

“You’re dreaming, Ry,” Charlie stepped around her and started brushing down Champ.

“I agree with her,” Abby stated, stepping up to Champ’s other side and meeting her eyes. “If you take away a few cosmetic differences, we look the exact same.”

Charlie shook her head. “You’re imagining things. Or you need to get your eyes checked.”

Abby scoffed and crossed her arms. “I have perfect vision, I’ll have you know. And I’m not imagining things.”

“Well, I think you are!” Charlie dug her heels in. “There’s no way I look like someone as snooty as you!”

Abby crossed her arms. “Well, I don’t particularly want to look like a cornfed hick either, but at least I’m not delusional and denying the situation.”

“What did you just call me?”

“Girls, girls!” Karen appeared at Champ’s head, soothing the now nervous horse. “Take a walk. Both of you. Cool off before you call home. And I don’t want to hear any more negative talk like that. Not in my stables.”

An echo of “yes Karen” bounced off the walls as the girls glared at each other and stalked off with their cabinmates, each set of girls trying to calm down the green eyed blond in their midst.

“Ugh, dad! But you promised!”

Charlie glared at the pixelated likeness of her father’s face. Normally, she would’ve been thrilled to see her dad. He had a kind face that let Charlie know that, even when he was mad or tired or frustrated, he loved her, the crow’s feet at his eyes and the dimples in his cheeks appearing every time he smiled at her. They appeared now as he grinned at her through the computer screen.

“I know I did. But I’m still saying no. And that’s because the only complaint I’ve heard is about this girl,” Jake Seresin chuckled. “Otherwise, you seem to be having a great time. And I know Penny is taking good care of you.”

“Well, yeah…” Charlie muttered. “But she called me a cornfed hick!” She purposefully left out the argument they had about possibly looking alike, because Charlie knew it was not the truth.

“Only after you called her snooty, punk,” Jake shook his head. “I know I’ve taught you not to dish it out if you can’t take it.”

“I know, but…but she’s so infuriating!” Charlie moaned as she sat back in her seat.

“You want me to come down there and handle it, Charlie?” a voice called as a moustachioed man in a Hawaiian shirt crowded into the screen.

“You are not going out there to handle an 11-year-old, dude,” another man appeared on the call.

“It’s fine, Uncle Roo,” Charlie giggled. “Listen to Uncle Javy.”

“Yeah, Uncle Roo, listen to Uncle Javy and get out of here,” Jake parroted, glaring at his best friend.

“Hey, don’t put words in my mouth,” Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado countered, leaning further into view. “You’ve just got to find something you’re better at than her and beat her at it. That’ll teach her.”

“Yeah!” Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw crowed, leaning in on the other side, completely blocking Jake from view. “I’m sure you could hustle her in darts! You and your dad have been beating us since you were big enough to handle sharp objects!”

“Alright, alright, enough!” Jake shoved his way through the two other men and glared at them. “Would you mind giving me a moment alone with my daughter?”

Charlie giggled as her uncles blinked at her, then at her dad, before muttering about rudeness and walking away, waving at her as they clicked the door shut in the distance.

“Sorry about those animals,” Jake joked but Charlie shook her head.

“No, it’s okay. I missed them too.”

“Ah. I see how it is,” he pouted.

“Oh, c’mon, dad. You know I miss you most.”

Jake smiled softly, gazing softly at his little girl. “Yeah, I miss you most too.” He sighed. “Listen, kiddo, I…I wanted to tell you something. I—”

“Alright, girls!” Penny called. “Time to switch and let the next batch of girls have their turn.

“Maybe you can tell me next week?” Charlie suggested as she prepared to log off, her heart panging at the thought of not seeing her dad for another week, but the lack of communication was supposed to simulate not always being able to talk to your family while you’re overseas. Plus, it made things equitable for those who had parents in the military, because they wouldn’t have to hear their cabinmates talking about frequent talks with their folks.

Jake nodded with a sigh. “Yeah, I guess so. Hey, punk?”

“Yeah, dad?”

He grinned. “I love you lots.”

“I love you lots too,” she murmured, feeling herself choke up at the pang of homesickness she felt. “I’ll see you next week, okay?”

“Okay, kiddo. Bye.”

Charlie blinked at the black screen before slowly standing up and walking away, only pausing to glare at Abby as she strolled by and sat in the same cubicle she had just been using.

Her uncles were right. When the time came, she would whoop that prissy girl’s butt in darts, just like her daddy had taught her.

“But mum!” Her Aunt Natasha smothered a chuckle at Abby’s affronted tone. “You and Uncle Bob promised!”

Her mother sighed, pressing her fingers into her eyelids. “I know, love. I’m sorry. But having a small spat with another camper doesn’t mean your uncle can drop everything and come to get you. I’m sorry.”

“But…but…”

“What’s this about, kiddo?” Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace asked from her position next to Abby’s mother. “I know you, you don’t quit on something just because some little bit-ter girl gave you grief.”

Abby giggled weakly at her aunt’s poor attempt at covering the near curse.

“What is it, darling?” her mum leaned closer, close enough for Abby to make out the small buttercup flower tattoo on her clavicle where it peeked out from her neckline. She had seen that tattoo her entire life and it always brought her comfort. She knew from experience that it was the reason her aunt and uncle always called her mum Buttercup.

“She said that I was prissy and snooty and that my mommy and daddy must’ve paid a lot of money for me to be able to ride like I do,” she almost whispered, but she knew from the pain in her mother’s eyes that she had heard her.

“Oh, baby, I…”

“Yeah, no, I was right the first time. What a little bit—”

“Nat!” Buttercup cried, whipping her head around to stare at her best friend. “Not helping!”

“What? You want me to just sit here while someone insults our girl?”

“Yes, I want you to sit there and let me handle it!”

Nat rolled her eyes and stood, half disappearing from frame. “Well, in that case, I’m just gonna go. Bye, kiddo.”

“Bye Auntie Nat,” Abby called at her aunt’s retreating back.

Buttercup sighed again, rubbing her eyes. “Sorry, baby. I know that talking about your father is a sensitive subject—”

“Yes, because I don’t know anything about him!”

“I…I know,” Buttercup murmured, leaning in closer to the screen. “And I know we should’ve had a conversation about him a long time ago, but…”

Abby’s shoulders heaved and she leaned in close too. “I know. I’m sorry, mum.”

Buttercup smiled softly. “My sweet girl…you have nothing to be sorry about. I…I’ll tell you what. We’ll have a girl’s day when you get back and we’ll have that conversation.”

“You promise?”

“I swear.”

“Thank you, mum.”

Buttercup smiled at her through the screen. “You shouldn’t have to thank me for having a much-needed conversation with my growing daughter. And in the meantime, please just ignore this girl. I’m afraid that engaging in more competition with this girl will escalate the situation beyond either of your control.”

“But mum!”

“Just ignore her. She’s probably taking something wrong in her life out on you.”

“So, you want me to be the bigger person?”

“I know it’s not fair, but yes. I know you have the same competitive spirit as your uncle and Nat, and that you need that competitive spirit to make it at the Naval Academy and at Top Gun, but right now you’re just a kid. So, please, just let it go.”

“Mum, I—”

“Alright, girls! Say goodbye and let the next group have a chance!” Penny called.

“Abby, promise me.”

“Bye mum! Love you!”

Buttercup sighed before smiling. “I love you too, sweetheart. Take care.”

Abby smiled, feeling a small pang of loneliness as she looked at her mother’s kind face. “I’ll see you soon, mum,” she murmured before closing the tab and sighing. She had been feeling so much better about being away from home, but seeing her mother’s face made the longing for home rush back. Home was her mom, her uncle, and her Aunt Nat, where everyone understood her and nobody questioned her small, odd family. Home was not Camp Silver Star, where a girl who looked just like her gave her attitude and made her think about a huge part of her life that was missing.

“Sorry, mum,” she whispered to herself. She loved her mom and often took her advice, but not this time. She could not in good conscience just ignore this girl. That’s not how she operated. So she would find a way to put this Charlie girl in her place, whether her mother liked it or not.

While the other campers were making their phone calls home, the kids who had already made their calls or were waiting to call got to hang out in the games cabin. It was full of a mix of old and new arcade games, an air hockey table, board games, a couple of pool tables, and a dart board.

When Abby arrived at the games cabin, she immediately spotted Charlie and her friends standing at the dart board and an idea sparked in Abby’s brain. She was decent at darts, her aunt and uncle had made sure of it, and she was good at bluffing. Perhaps this was something that she could beat Charlie at.

Rolling her shoulders back, she strode over to the small group of girls and cleared her throat.

“I’ll play winner,” she declared, staring Charlie down.

The other blond smirked and nodded. “Done deal,” she chuckled and threw a dart, not daring to break eye contact.

Abby turned at the sound of cheers and gasps, and saw the dart sticking directly in the bullseye, her heart sinking at the sight. She was, in fact, decent at darts, but clearly Charlie was more than decent. This would be more difficult than she thought.

“And that—” Charlie let the dart fly and smirked in triumph. “Is game.”

Abby sighed but something occurred to her as Charlie’s friends surrounded her for a congratulatory hug.

“I guess that makes us tied!” she called over the din, causing it to silence immediately as Charlie turned to her.

“What are you talking about? I beat you.”

“Yeah,” Abby agreed. “At darts. But I beat you in the riding ring. So that makes us tied.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t count. I beat you fair and square.”

“If you insist…I suppose that means you’re too scared to face me at billiards.”

Charlie froze, a scowl marring her eerily familiar features. “I’m not scared.”

“Prove it,” Abby stepped up to her, gesturing to one of the empty pool tables. “Winner can even break.”

“Fine,” Charlie muttered through gritted teeth. At least she knew she was a champ at pool too. She had been playing with her dad and uncles since she was tall enough to reach the tabletop. However, she gulped as she watched Abby expertly rack the balls and chalk her cue, maybe it wouldn’t be that easy.

“Eight ball, corner pocket!” Abby crowed as the ball sunk neatly into the net.

Charlie groaned, leaning on her pool cue. They had been pretty evenly matched up until one of Charlie’s stripes had ricocheted wrong and sunk one of Abby’s solids. After that, Abby had proceeded to sink every one of her balls neatly, ending with the solid black eight ball. Charlie had never seen anything like it, not even when her dad was playing against Javy and Rooster.

Abby approached her, her hand outstretched with a small, taunting grin gracing her face. “Good match. I believe that makes us 2-1.”

Charlie smacked her hand away as a bolt of frustration tore through her. “I told you! Your little stunt while riding didn’t count! Besides, even if it did count, Rosita did all the hard work anyway!”

“Then I suppose it was Champ who did all the hard work while you were riding the course!”

“That’s not true and you know it! I’ve spent my entire life on the back of a horse! You’re only a half decent rider because your mommy and daddy paid for you to be.”

Abby fought back the tears that almost always automatically pooled in her eyes at the mention of her parents. “Stop. Saying. That. You don’t know the first thing about me!”

“Or. What? You gonna sic your mommy and daddy on me?”

The two girls were nose to nose, their friends and fellow campers huddled around them in a circle, anxious to see exactly what was going to happen.

“Ahh!” Abby’s cry was sharp and painfilled as she pushed Charlie away from her, but Charlie had been working on her father’s ranch since before she could walk and she wasn’t so easily swayed.

“That’s it!” She grabbed for Abby, but before she could make contact, she felt a firm hand grip her arm and looked up to see Penny standing above them, holding the two of them apart as her nostrils flared.

“I will not tolerate any fighting in this camp,” she stated stonily, glaring between Charlie and Abby. “And from what I’ve heard, the two of you have been at each other’s throats all day.”

“W-what are you going to do with us?” Abby murmured, her eyes heavy with fear.

“Send us home?” Charlie tacked on hopefully.

Penny sighed heavily. “No. The two of you will be assisting with extra chores around the camp instead of participating in group activities for two weeks. And…you will be removed from your cabins and placed into a smaller cabin. Together.”

Charlie gasped. “You can’t—”

“And you will be there for the rest of your stay. Together. Amelia will come get you for your meals and escort you to the dining hall, where you will be allowed to sit with your friends. Other than that, you will be living together, cleaning together, and working together until you two can figure out how to get along.”

“Mrs. Mitchell—”

“Aunt Penny—”

“My decision is final. You have ten minutes to grab all your belongings and to meet me by the trail head. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Mrs. Mitchell.”

“Yes, Aunt Penny.”

“Good. You are dismissed.”

Penny sighed as she sat at her desk, her small office only lit by her desk lamp and the faint hint of moonlight trickling in from the window. It had been a long day. Between Amelia hunting her down and explaining that there were a pair of doppelgängers at camp, Karen’s report about a verbal altercation during riding practice, and one of her younger campers running to tell her about two girls getting into an argument in the games cabin, she knew she deserved the small glass of whiskey she was currently sipping on. The campers were safe, the security systems were set, and Amelia had opted to sleep close to the smaller cabin where her two problem campers were now housed, claiming that she’d be able to step in before any blood was shed if the two girls went at it again.

Penny sighed again, rolling her neck before looking at the photo frame she had on her desk.  

“I don’t know, Mav,” she whispered to the portrait of her late husband, dressed in his military whites as he waited for her to come down the aisle. “Maybe inviting Charlie and Abby here at the same time was a mistake.” She laughed quietly before taking another sip of her drink. “I know, I know. You would’ve wanted me to invite them the second I opened this place, but I wanted to have a year or two experience before I tried to do…this.” She shook her head. “They’re just so angry at each other. And at themselves. God, they remind me so much of Amelia after I split from her dad. But at least she was old enough to understand. And I wasn’t hiding a whole sibling from her either.” Penny drained her glass and leaned in close to the picture. “I know. You’re right. It’s my duty to try to fix this…the way you wanted to before you died.” Penny sighed shakily and wiped her eyes. “I miss you, Mav. I know you would’ve known how to bring Charlie and Abby together if you were here. I’ll do my best. I love you.”

With that, Penny pressed a light kiss to the glass of the frame, thousands of lip prints providing proof of her nightly ritual, and stood to stretch before heading off to bed, her head swimming with different ideas on how to bring the two girls together.  

—————————-

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[esotericas-sims]

George and Ruby's outfits going into the 1890s represent the odd dichotomy of their new lives. On one hand, they live a relatively "simple" life on Ruby's father's farm, and are compelled to dress practically, in simple, sturdy clothes, in order to support a lifestyle of hard labor. On the other hand, they have Moses's consistent financial support - less so cash, more often in the form of lavish gifts, especially of expensive clothing. They often have multiple outfits for the same occasion, one more expensive, and one more practical.

George in particular has taken to Moses's habit of giving gifts. George finds the promise of wealth infinitely appealing, and although he hasn't yet obtained said wealth, Moses's expensive presents often make him feel as if he has. Because of this influence from his father-in-law, George's outfits have also trended more towards Moses's all-black color scheme, becoming darker in color and adding in more blues and jewel tones, to replace George's teenage greens and yellows. He dresses in Moses's gift-clothing whenever possible, only returning to more practical garments while working on the farm.

Ruby, on the other hand, seems discomforted by the expensive clothes her father throws at her. Her hunger for independence and identity tends to push her away from making use of his gifts, no matter how lovely. She does dress up when he asks her to, or when the situation arises, but otherwise Ruby favors sturdy, comfortable, practical clothing. Some of her outfits do retain her teenage greens and yellows, especially those given to her by Moses, but the majority of her clothes are in a soft, neutral color palette, made up of mostly creams and browns. Still, Ruby does have a taste for drama, and what she lacks in fashionable clothing, she makes up for in her variable, expressive hats, often covered in flowers or feathers.

Links below the cut

George

Genetics: Skinblend / Eye shape / Blush / Hair / Beard (High School Years)

Everyday: Outfit / Shoes / Ring (Basegame) On The Farm: Outfit Going Out: Jacket / Pants / Hat / Gloves (Get to Work) Wedding: Outfit / Hat / Gloves (Get to Work) Formal: Top / Pants / Hat Underthings: Pants Sleep: Union Suit (TSR warning) Morning: Robe / Slippers (Basegame) Hot Weather 1: Outfit / Hat Hot Weather 2: Outfit / Hat Cold Weather 1: Outfit / Scarf / Hat Cold Weather 2: Outfit / Scarf / Hat (Basegame)

Ruby

Genetics: Skinblend / Eye shape / Structure (retired) / Nose Details / Eyebags / Updo / Blush (High School Years)

Everyday: Glasses (TSR warning) / Top / Skirt / Apron Acc / Ring / Shoes (Post deleted) On The Farm: Hat / Top / Skirt & Apron Acc Going Out: Hat / Outfit (1880s set) / Jacket / Gloves (Get to Work) Wedding: Dress (Anachronistic) / Necklace / Veil / Earrings / Gloves Formal: Dress / Earrings (Growing Together) / Gloves / Flowers Underthings: Corset / Combinations / Socks (Dream Home Decorator) / Hair Sleep: Nightgown / Braids Morning: Robe / Slippers (Basegame) Hot Weather 1: Dress / Hat Hot Weather 2: Outfit (The Schoolmistress) / Hat Cold Weather 1: Top / Skirt / Scarf / Hat (Eco Lifestyle) / Gloves (Horse Ranch) Cold Weather 2: Outfit / Scarf / Hat

Playing with SeveralPerson’s Ultimate Decades Challenge Rules

Started: 1800

Current year: 1890

Family tree

Spreadsheet

CC Finds

[chernabogs]

I made this post yesterday which @/hanafubukki and @/rayroseu and I kind offfff got inspired to actually write something LMAO

Labours Gained

Inc: Malleus, groundskeeper, nanny, briefly Maleficia WC: 2.2k Warnings: None, except swearing Summary: Consequences for your actions come in many forms. For some, it's a time out. For others, it's mucking around in mud all day.

Eirnan was a man who has endured many challenges in his life. Over 600 years of employment as head groundskeeper at Black Scale Palace meant he had faced wyrms, blight, drought, tenebrae boars which had torn up the root vegetables, and the odd employee who nicked a few carrots for their own personal use. He had served during Queen Maleficia’s first reign, and then the wars, and now her second reign. He knew which plots of land were most fertile for which plants, he knew of companion flowers and the medicinal benefits of the herbs, and his mind was an almanac of its own right. 

Eirnan was a learned man… until it came to the matter of child-care. He never knew how to act around children, nor did he have any interest in interacting with them to begin with. 

But now it’s a beautiful cloudy day in Black Scale Palace, and there is a very, very miserable boy standing before him. 

He’s poorly dressed for the occasion—fine garments in the fields are a recipe for disaster—and the eight o’clock hour shows residual glossiness in those green eyes. His arms are crossed firmly over his chest and his lower lip is jutted out in a pout. 

Crown Prince Malleus is a temperamental boy—everyone in Black Scale knows this. His latest explosion of emotion regarding an off-handed comment a tutor said (it was a jest! the man had cried while diving for cover behind trees to avoid furious lightning bolts) had resulted in a complete annihilation of the palace gardens. Eirnan had spent much of yesterday repairing the damage while mumbling about how ‘some things truly are genetic’ under his breath. 

Then he had received a missive. A missive, which led them to this moment, in which he stands before the prince with his own arms crossed over his chest and his own equally unimpressed expression on his face. At a glance, one would think the two are related with how mirrored these looks are. 

Eirnan pulls out a pocket watch and raises an eyebrow. “On time today, hm?” 

“I was told not to be late,” Malleus bites back, attitude in his tone as he glares up at the groundskeeper. He doesn’t want to be here. Eirnan doesn’t want him here either. It’s Queen Maleficia who has shoved them together like two children in a time out. 

Eirnan can’t help but wonder if he may have slighted her in the past and this is her round of revenge. 

“Right, well, you’re on time but you’re certainly not dressed right.” His gaze skims over the boy's proper attire before raising to look at his nanny instead. The woman ducks her head and focuses intently on the book she holds, making it obvious that no aid will be given. This earns a scoff from Eirnan as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck. 

What exactly can he make the prince do? Queen Maleficia made it clear that a lesson was to be learned today for his actions. Malleus was barred from using any magic, and the nanny was here to ensure that this was followed through. The prince knew no loyalty or secrets were kept by his staff—a sad reality for a seven year old to face. 

“It isn’t like I just have clothes to get dirty lying about.” Malleus retorts again while continuing to glare up at him. There is little to no remorse present—just sheer grouchiness. “I don’t usually muck in mud.” 

“Well, you’re mucking in it today.” Eirnan can’t help but have his own bite in his words as he turns and treks towards the nearby gardening shed. Malleus stands rooted in his spot for a moment before following, having to run a little to keep up with the older man's long strides. 

The inside of the shed contains the extra attire that the staff wear when working the fields in the on-season. Although the prince is significantly smaller than many of Eirnan’s employees, he does manage to scrounge up some pants, a top, and gloves for the boy to wear. 

The shoes are a lost cause. There are no boots that can fit the boy without making him goose walk around the field.

“Put these on then, either over your clothes or not, and then meet me back outside.” He tosses the fabric into the prince’s arms, making the boy stumble back with an oof! of surprise. Malleus looks down at the clothing before his lip curls in disgust. Eirnan does his best to stifle the satisfaction he feels about that as he steps out of the shed and slams the door shut. 

It’s a beautiful cloudy day in Black Scale Palace, and this is going to be a long ordeal.

_____________________________________________________________

Twenty minutes of protest later finds Eirnan and Malleus standing before a re-soiled plot of garden near the edges of the palace. The boy's act of destruction yesterday had uprooted a majority of the roses that had been planted there, but a few bushes still remained standing—albeit charred and drooping from the assault. Near their feet are bundles of rose plants that Eirnan had been soaking in the greenhouse overnight in preparation for what was to come today.

The nanny had followed them to this area and is watching with interest from her position on a nearby bench. Malleus looks significantly less intrigued. His gloves are lying discarded on the grass along with his shovel and there’s a distinct air of boredom about him. 

“So, what we’re going to do is use our shovels to dig up some holes, ‘bout 18 inches deep, 18 inches wide, yes? Then I need you to mix compost in there—”

“Compost?” Malleus’ head snaps to look up at Eirnan wide-eyed. “But I read that compost has—”

“Shit. Yes, there’s shit in there. Do you still want to fight about putting on those gloves?” Eirnan leans against his own shovel as he looks down at the young boy. Malleus’ brow furrows and his lower lip trembles before he’s grabbing the gloves and shoving them on his hands. He looks ready to cry or throw another tantrum. Eirnan tenses in case that does happen, the memories of the tutor running through the gardens yesterday still fresh in his mind. If Malleus’ does snap, that means he’ll be out here tomorrow, too.

Tough lesson. 

“Anyway, mix the compost, and then we need to loosen the roots and put them in the mound. Keep the bud union—that’s the little knob there.” He pauses to squat down and point at the bud on the root. Malleus leans down to look at it as well before Eirnan continues. “About 1 to 2 inches below the ground. Briar Valley has a colder climate, so if we keep it up, it’ll kill the plant.” 

“If a plant can’t survive the weather, should we really be planting it?” Malleus’ question is fair. Most of the time, one wouldn’t try to grow plants that can’t acclimate well. 

“They can survive, they just need a little help. Princess Meleanor herself was an enormous admirer of roses—it’s her notes of how to plant them that we’re following right now.” Eirnan clears his throat before re-focusing on his explanation. He misses the flicker of interest in the prince’s gaze at the mention of his mother’s name. “As I said, keep it below ground. Then we refill the hole ‘bout three quarters with soil and pat it down. Water it a little, let it soak, and then water it again.” 

“There are too many steps.” Malleus grabs at the shovel with an apprehensive glance at the dirt. “Can’t we use a little magic? We don’t need to use it for all of the steps, but one or two? I can just make all the holes appear—” 

“No magic. Her highness’ strict orders. Unless you want Queen Maleficia to come out here and watch you herself, which I’m sure is the last thing you want, I’d advise listening to instructions.” Eirnan grabs at his own shovel before tapping it on the back of the prince’s heels, making the boy step forward. “Hop to it, then. This will take up a good part of your morning.” 

___________________________________________________________

The first few plantings are painful. The boy doesn’t dig deep enough, and then he digs too deep, and then he buries the plant too deep, and then he doesn’t bother burying it at all. The process reminds Eirnan why he never had any children himself as he carefully explains and fixes all of the prince’s errors. Despite his complaints, the boy actually does listen to his advice, and soon the two fall into a quiet pattern of dig-plant-water. 

The compost part is still met with many vocalized protests, though, and Eirnan soon does relent to doing that himself. 

“How long does it take to grow?” 

Malleus’ question disrupts the silence they had fallen into, causing Eirnan to pause and lean on his shovel again. “Three or so years for these ones. The one’s that are still rooted are fully mature, but I’m not too sure they’ll be blooming this year. The buds got damaged.” 

Malleus, who has been sitting cross legged on the dirt with a bundle of rose plants in his hand, stares at the bushes for a moment while his thumb plays with the stems. “Did my mother plant those ones?” 

“Before she left, yes. She used to plant new ones at least once every few years. When she got her own palace, she had an entire garden there as well.” Eirnan digs another hole as he speaks. He had been in service long enough to see Meleanor weaned off of Queen Maleficia. The girl had sat where Malleus sits now, and their near identical likeness strikes Eirnan as unnerving, as though he’s been projected into the past and is witnessing those spring days once more. 

He clears his throat. “They’ll recover. Roses are hardy plants. Strike ‘em down, and they’ll get back twice as strong.” 

“Are you sure?” Malleus looks up at the groundskeeper, his green eyes squinting against the light. Eirnan doesn’t look back as he keeps digging. 

“Mhm.” 

At the affirmation, the prince returns to planting, now with significantly less attitude than before. He’s almost enjoying the rhythm after a while. Despite his status, in the end the boy is still a boy, and it’s hard to keep a child from loving messing around in dirt. 

It’s when the nanny clears her throat and brings over a basket of food that the two finally take a break from their labours to sit in the nearby grass. Eirnan rarely gets to appreciate the fine foods served to the nobles, so he’s indulging himself heartily in the miniature sandwiches that are present when Malleus begins to speak again. 

“How long have you been doing this?” 

Eirnan pauses, ham sandwich halfway to his mouth. “647 this spring.” 

“647 years?” The boy's voice is incredulous as he looks at him. “You’re old.” 

“And you’re a baby.” Eirnan grumbles back as he wraps a few of the sandwiches in a napkin. 

His comment causes another flash of annoyance to cross the prince’s face. “I’m not! Grandma says I’m very mature for my age!” 

“Did she say that to you before yesterday, or after?” He challenges back. Malleus’ cheeks flush as he grabs at a sandwich and takes a bite. After a few more, the scowl on his face softens before he continues his questioning. 

“Why do you do this? The manual work? It’s easier with magic.” 

“Keeps my stress down.” Eirnan chuckles. The nanny gives a sound that might be mistaken as a laugh, which is quickly covered by a cough while she begins packing the extra food. He mourns the finger sandwiches being lost to the basket. “There’s always something to do for these gardens, and when you’re planting, you can let your mind just fall quiet. Watching something that you worked hard to grow get appreciated by others is a rewarding feeling. Magic takes away from that. The instant gratification fades faster than the long-term that labour brings.” 

Malleus falls quiet again as he finishes his sandwich. He then fiddles with his gloves, which are still too big for his small hands. He has dirt on his cheek and his chin that he seems entirely unaware of. Eirnan offers him a napkin to wipe it off, albeit gruffly.

“It isn’t bad.” Malleus finally mumbles when he accepts the napkin and hastily wipes his face. 

“What, using magic?” 

“No, planting.” Then Malleus looks up quickly with another furrow in his brow. “Except the compost. The compost is bad.” 

“It’s shit.” Eirnan shrugs his shoulders and ignores the sharp look the nanny gives him. Malleus’ lips do twitch slightly into a smirk. 

“It’s shit.” The boy repeats, causing the nanny to say his name in a scolding tone, which finally does draw a laugh from the prince. “How many more do we need to plant?” 

“Three, maybe four. Shouldn’t take long.” Eirnan rises with a grunt and brushes a few spare crumbs off of his pants. The prince is quick to scramble to his feet as well. He seems oddly reinvigorated as he pulls his gloves on and grabs his shovel. He then cranes his head back to look up at the taller man with a spark of challenge in his gaze as that cheeky smirk continues to play on his lips. 

“Let’s hop to it then, shall we?”

Eirnan snorts in amusement as the two return to the dirt patch, both unaware of the figure watching from the windows of the palace above, a pleased smile present on her lips.

[suzukiblu]

I can’t choose between den mom black zero and Circe makes everything worse for wip wednesday. Dealers choice I guess. I’m so excited so to see more of both those fics

den mom Black Zero:

“. . . what do you mean ‘fully matured’?” one of the League members asks warily. A Green Lantern, Black Zero thinks, but possibly just a Green Arrow; he’s not paying enough attention to actually bother looking at them straight-on. 

“Do you have a background in either genetic enhancements or Kryptonian biology, or are you just trying to make me waste my time by telling you something you won’t understand?” he says. 

“I do,” another member says, stepping forward. This one’s dressed in black, so Black Zero spares them a glance, because that might mean–yes, it’s a Batman. Unsurprisingly, given that statement. 

“Then the answer to your question is ‘all your worst projections for my alternate, but even worse than that’,” he replies frankly. He’s not interested in keeping that card too close to his chest, under the circumstances. 

When he wants to kill these people, he’ll just kill them.

Circe makes everything worse:

A month later, Cassie is on Themyscira for a training trip with Donna, and that’s when she meets Lita. 

Lita has curly dark brown hair and sun-tanned skin and bright gray eyes, and she smirks and postures and flirts and leers, and Cassie looks at her hard, sculpted muscles and soft, inviting curves and her big broad body and hourglass-cinched waist . . . and . . . 

And she’s never met her before. Never seen her before this trip. 

Never thought about her when she should’ve been thinking about her boyfriend. 

So that goes about as well as can be expected, she supposes.

[onskepa]

HIIIIII!! I just want to ask if you could do a black ( if you do poc) 6'11 reader who has an avatar that is 9'11, and she's really sassy but in a funny way and also brutally honest way, who prefers animals over people and just don't deal with the omaticaya but weirdly the cln7( including neytiri) loves when she's around bc she's super simpatic ans what i am SPECIFICALLY asking is you could do one where the sullys boys + spider are in love with her but she doesn't know and they don't know if they'll confess which is basically torture for everyone since they have to witness all of this( HELL THEY'RE MAKING BETS)

SORRY IF IT IS TOO MUCH YOU CAN CHOOSE TO TAKE OUT SOME DETAILS IF YOU WANT TO!!!! 🙏

Hello!! sorry for the wait on this one, I wanted to get it right! hope you like it!

Ch1 , Ch2, Ch3

Tstew

"HEY TSTEW! CATCH!" a fruit was thrown and aimed for Tstew's head, which she catches flawlessly. "trying to aim for my head lolo?" she smirks as she takes a bite from the fruit.

Tstew, a pet name given to her, which means brave. She likes the sound and its meaning. gives her a boost of confidence.

"it be pure luck to get a hit" kiri says as she and neteyam jump down from a brach. Lo'ak and spider joined in by coming out of some tall grass. Lo'ak shakes his head and he puts an elbow on Tstew's head. "well if she was a bit shorter, maybe", without saying anything, tstew grabbed him by the arm and threw his whole body down to the ground, landing with an 'OOF!'.

Tstew as she is named by her friends, was much like spider. Born on the planet of pandora, her home, didn't know anything of her birth parents and didn't care to know either. But one thing she is 100% sure its genetic, is her height. Standing proudly tall at 6'11, she over towers almost everyone. Her dark skin makes her stand out even more. Her bright green eyes that reflect pandora's nature. One of her prized assets being her hair. While she never interwoven with the Omaticaya clan, she had adopted their hair styles. Braiding her long hair and decorating it with beads and feathers.

Don't get the wrong idea, Tstew loves and respected the clan and the na'vi. However she believes its best to stay away at a safe distance. After the great battle, there was still tension between the na'vi and the humans who stayed. She didn't want the thin relationship to bend and break. So instead she would rather spend her time with the animals and nature.

Kiri rolled her eyes and spider and neteyam look at their friend with pride in their eyes, "had enough of rough housing? we are going to miss them" kiri said almost impatient. "don't worry kiri, we will make it" tstew replied and she help's lo'ak back on his feet. Neteyam takes lead and guides everyone else to see the herd of prolemuris.

As everyone starts to run and jump to get to the specific location, neteyam and tstew both had ran faster, jumping and swinging from vines. "think you can catch up nete?" tstew shouts as she jumps around. Neteyam laughed as he admires his friend, "I always do!". Lo'ak and kiri were just as fast but can see neteyam's and tstew determination to beat the other.

Finally arriving, the five arrived, huddled together in a branch, using the massive leaves to hide themselves. "ugh, spider, move!" tstew places her chin on top of spiders head, to which makes spider's heart thump a bit. Lo'ak held in a grunt, so he shoved himself close to tstew. "idiot give room! its to tight!" spider frowns as he tries to push back lo'ak. Kiri rolls her eyes and she lays on a branch above from them, "no need to huddle all together" she says.

"SSHH! they are coming!" neteyam hushes the others as the see Prolemuris swinging in herd. All communicating in their own sounds and pass by the kids. Their beautiful colors blending with the forest greens and doing their thing. All the kids look at them in awe as not often do they see those creatures. Kiri and tstew appreciate every chance they get to see them.

"so pretty...." neteyam whispers in awe, "did you say something nete?" asks tstew, neteyam clears his throat and shakes his head. "no, I didn't say anything". Tstew shrugs it all, as unconsciously she wraps her arms around spider, who he is loving the embrace while lo'ak and neteyam glare at him in envy.

tstew's eyes linger on as the view of the creatures fade away into the forest. She tries to swing like them but unfortunately, she only has 2 noodle arms. "that was fun to watch, but we better get back, its almost eclipse" kiri says. So everyone got up and this time, they took their pace slow to head back. Lo'ak turns to tstew with a grin, "excited for tomorrow?", this made tstew light up with glee. "fuck yeah I am! I have waited so long for this! I can use my avatar and bye bye to this stupid mask-oh, sorry spider" she grins nervously. Spider shrugs not offended. "its ok" but spider refuses to admit, he wished he too had an avatar. But the science guys only had enough material to make one more, and Tstew's DNA was compatible.

Neteyam grins, as he too is excited. They can do more things now since tstew was limited to certain things because of her human body. "though I high doubt your strength will be any different tstew" neteyam teases. Tstew took that as a challenge, "oh yeah?! try this!" she full body slams on neteyam as they start to rough house.

though neteyam tries to give tstew a challenge, its a bit tricky since he didn't want to break her mask. And admit he would let tstew win. Kiri scoffs and she warns them to hurry it up. And fair, the sky was starting to get dark.

They made it in time, as the sully kids said their goodbye's to spider and tstew. Both kids got into their base and slept. Waiting eagerly for tomorrow.

NEXT DAY

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!"

THIS WILL HAVE A PART 2!

Tstew = Brave

I hoped you all liked it. Lemme know what ya'll think! It will have a sequel for sure!

[lemonhemlock]

Why Jace/Helaena isn't the foolproof solution it seems

My brothers in green, allow me to put forth my defense of Alicent’s rejection of this infamous marriage proposal, lauded as a possible solution to the Dance. Bear with me since this may get a little long. 

Context

Rhaenyra proposes this to Alicent in episode 6 ("The Princess and the Queen") as a means of closing the chasm between their families.

Additionally, Rhaenyra offers that if Syrax brings forth a clutch of eggs, the dragon-less Aemond will have his pick of them. Viserys calls this a very handsome gift.

Alicent tries to extricate herself from the situation, so as to not refuse Rhaenyra outright. She tells her she will consider her offer and, luckily for her, is provided with the perfect exit opportunity - Rhaenyra's clothes have stained with breastmilk.

Now, marriage proposals are an issue to be considered carefully, not a decision you make on the spot or overnight, so Alicent is right to exercise her right to "think about it", however, I will grant that the scene immediately after shows that she has absolutely no intention of accepting, at least not in that very moment. Could she have changed her mind after sleeping on it? Let's see.

Rhaenyra has just given birth to her third child, who looks nothing like her husband Laenor and everything like her paramour Harwin Strong. Courtiers have started whispering more loudly than ever and Rhaenyra feels threatened by this.

What does Team Black gain from this?

Jace benefits from Helaena's legitimacy and quells at least some rumours about his bastard status. If The Queen herself is willing to betroth her only daughter to him, it must mean that he is legitimate, right?

A dragon's egg is no great loss for Rhaenyra, she has a female dragon actively laying eggs. There will be others if she has any need. This move costs her next-to-nothing.

I will give Rhaenyra the benefit of the doubt here and accept that she was genuinely trying to mend the rift between her and Alicent's side of the family. However, I will suggest that, up to this point, she has already dug herself in such a hole, that right now all she can do is damage control.

So let's see why Alicent might refuse her, apart from petty reasons.

Jace's legitimacy

The main issue here is that, unfortunately, Jace is so obviously not Laenor's son that everyone with eyes knows him to be a bastard. Rhaenyra has tried to transform the court in this theatre of the absurd, where no one is allowed to state the obvious, but this is not something that can carry on indefinitely. I am aware that people in Westeros don't know about genetics, but they are not that unaware. It's not just that Jace doesn't look anything like his white-haired parents, it's that he looks 100% like Harwin Strong's child, who is standing next to him and Rhaenyra. There are cases in which the family resemblances is so strong (heh) that little can be done in trying to deny it. No wonder Alicent feels like she's going mad.

With all of the good intentions of Rhaenyra, Laenor and Viserys, who play along in this ruse and pretend Jace is a Velaryon, the threat of a succession war starting over his right to rule is very real.

This goes beyond the politics of House Targaryen. People often argue that Jace is Rhaenyra's son, not like Cersei's children, who are not Robert's, the actual monarch.

Cersei reasonably gets away with this because her children at least look like her. Rhaenyra's children look nothing like Rhaenyra AND nothing like Laenor. They, instead, look very much like Harwin. It's complete clown behaviour.

The problem is that this threatens the entire system of inheritances in place in Westeros. Bastard children do not inherit for a reason. Marriage is a political and economic alliance between families, where both families are very much invested in the concept that their accumulated wealth / titles / lands / power is transferred to someone who is actually related to them. This is a world without proper contraception, where adultery carries the real threat of pregnancy. The two families involved essentially enter into an agreement that has very real economic consequences (dowries, favours, different types of exchanges) and no one wants to endanger this arrangement because of some random child fathered irresponsibly. One party will always be wronged in a situation like this.

Which is why the issue of Jace's legitimacy should be a big deal for the lords of the realm as well. If it suddenly becomes OK for bastards to be placed in the line of succession, then many of them might get in big trouble. Many conflicts of succession might arise because of this, maybe even wars.

Of course that, as a modern audience, we think it's super unfair that Jace doesn't get to inherit just because he was born out of wedlock. Society has progressed since then, thankfully, with the development of women's rights and family law and, of course, contraceptive methods allowing us, for the first time in history, to choose when/if we have children and how many of them. But Westeros doesn't have that context. So, in order for people to not kill each other endlessly over inheritances, they had to implement SOME rules and settled over male primogeniture. Completely fair? Of course not. But at least it offers some degree of stability.

The effects of this can be seen directly when it comes to the inheritance of the Driftwood Throne. The rest of the trueborn Velaryons (not just Vaemond) have genuine beef with the idea of Luke being ahead in the line of succession. No one else in Westeros gives up their inheritances like this, so why should they?

Therefore, why should the people of Westeros accept a ruler that doesn't respect the laws of the land or one who creates special exemptions for themselves, without putting in the proper work to reform society and make it a little more fair? This is a flagrant breach of the Westerosi version of the social contract.

Therefore, I humbly imply that there will be a lot of disgruntled people, upset that the monarch (Rhaenyra) is disregarding the law and fucking up their entire political-economic system of inheritance.

Helaena

Jace's rule will, therefore, most likely be contested. Wars may even be fought over it.

By marrying her daughter to a bastard claimant, Alicent could very well be placing Helaena and her future children in danger. Violent conflict tends to not be kind to women. Remember what happened to Elia Martell and her children? That came to pass because it was far more expedient if Robert Baratheon didn't have any other rival claimants to this throne. People like to pretend that this is an imagined threat, in order to demonise Alicent, but it is not.

That being said, Helaena may very well die due to illness or in childbirth. Unfortunately, medieval-style medicine was not kind to people, especially women. What happens then to this great alliance? Alicent doesn't have a replacement for Helaena to offer up to Jace. What if she dies childless? I would argue this is not that far-fetched of a possibility.

Helaena will essentially be a hostage for the Blacks. Rhaenyra doesn't have a daughter to give to Alicent, so that they could be even steven. From Alicent's POV, she is basically handing over her daughter to someone she doesn't even trust.

Alicent's sons

Alicent has three living sons. That's a lot of options for people to rally behind, if they have a problem with Rhaenyra becoming Queen.

Why does everyone believe that Aegon/Aemond/Daeron would be safe, just because Helaena would be married to Jace? Helaena couldn't do a damn thing to stop their execution, if Rhaenyra's claim was contested.

Even if you want to argue that Rhaenyra could never do such a thing, Daemon definitely would order hit jobs on them or murder them himself if necessary. He really is That Girl.

This is, of course, supposing that Rhaenyra does end up marrying Daemon in this scenario as well. I would argue it's a very real possibility, since they are so obsessed with each other.

Dragons

As it stands in Ep. 6, Team Black has 4 dragons at their disposal (Syrax, Seasmoke, Vermax, Arrax), with a new dragon egg for Joffrey that will later hatch into Tyraxes, making that 5. There is the possibility of Meleys (?), if push comes to shove. It's debatable whether Daemon & Laena would join her side, but it's worth mentioning they themselves have 3 additional dragons (Moondancer, Caraxes and freaking VHAGAR). If Rhaenyra keeps having children, they most definitely will have dragons.

What does Team Green have? SUNFYRE. Whom Aegon bonded with as a hatchling, making him young and small. Daeron is in Oldtown by now, so maybe he has already bonded with Tessarion, another hatchling. That brings Team Green's dragon count to a pitiful 2 baby dragons with inexperienced riders.

Helaena doesn't have a dragon in episode 6, because Aemond is seen going towards Dreamfyre. He would not be doing that if he knew Dreamfyre was bonded to his sister, it would be illogical. For someone as dragon-obsessed as he is, he definitely would know that.

So what happens between episodes 6 and 7? Helaena must have claimed Dreamfyre. At the end of the episode, we see 3 dragons flying back towards King's Landing. One of them is obviously Sunfyre, one is the newly-acquired Vhagar, Daeron is in Oldtown, so the other one must be Dreamfyre.

We know from Aegon and Aemond's conversation in Ep. 7 that Aegon and Helaena have been betrothed. Why? I would wager one of the reasons is that Helaena turned out to be a dragon-rider herself.

There is no way in hell Alicent would be giving Rhaenyra Helaena, alongside Dreamfyre, her biggest freaking dragon (remember Vhagar has not been claimed yet).

As it stands, when Alicent approved of the betrothal between Aegon and Helaena, her side of the family had two small dragons and Helaena's DREAMFYRE, quite a sizeable beast, a huge win for Team Green. Ain't no way Rhaenyra is getting her hands on her daughter now. Dreamfyre was Princess Rhaena's dragon, the Queen in the West/East. She should be larger than Syrax and Seasmoke, even Caraxes or Meleys, more on par with Vermithor and Silverwing.

You know what else Dreamfyre is? A female, egg-laying dragon, who has resided all this time in the Dragonpit. Which makes Rhaenyra's additional offer of a dragon egg moot. Why would Aemond need eggs from Syrax, when he already had access to eggs from the unclaimed Dreamfyre? Remember, Dreamfyre laid the egg Rhaenyra chose for ther brother Baelon - the same egg that Daemon stole, so it's not as if she's hit dragon menopause. Jace and Luke are shown to have picked the egg for Joffrey themselves from the Dragonpit; it is not specified whether this is Syrax's egg. If necessary, Viserys is still King, he can order additional eggs to be brought from Dragonstone for Aemond to pick.

This has already turned out very long, but, all in all, I wanted to point out the flaws in Rhaenyra's plan regarding Jace and Helaena's possible betrothal. I appreciate the fact that she was trying to remedy the rift, but she failed to understand why this deal was not exactly the home-run for Team Green that she intended. A very good arrangement for her, but not necessarily great for Alicent's peace of mind.

[silent-sanctum]

✧ Polaris ✧ - Jotaro x Reader

PART I. Bento Boxes

Disclaimer: This is my first time writing a self-insert fic on Tumblr so if the formatting is slightly wonky I'm sorry (._.), but rest assured i tried my best ♥

cw: afab! reader, reader is a stand user, fluff, sfw

Word count: 8148

Taking place prior to the events of SC, you're a foreign transfer student taking up high school in Japan, and while still trying to overcome the lingering culture shock, you meet a delinquent that doesn't quite meet your expectations.

When you first saw him, you had thought his eyes were that of the ocean, with depths so deep that are yet to be discovered underneath the shimmering surface.

When he first saw you, he had thought your eyes were that of the night sky devoid of clouds, bearing witness to the galaxy of stars twinkling within.

Both of you had thought the other’s eyes held a world of their own, waiting for the time they would collide at the horizon that would eventually form a safe haven made for the 2 of you.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Ever since moving to Tokyo 3 years ago, you got accustomed to the culture fairly easy given how similar it was from where you came from. The language was a bit tricky to learn considering you had to familiarize 3 sets of Japanese alphabets. You found the streets quite lovely, peaceful, and comfortable to be in for the long run, though you can’t help but miss the exciting lifestyle and nightlife of your home city.

However, the crowds were something you had yet to get more used to.

You weren’t sure if it was just the lingering homesickness or plain overthinking, but living in a society so reserved and collected made you realize how direct and upfront your fellow brethren were just like you were to them. All in good spirits, of course.

Maybe that was why you found this specific teenager so appealing.

It was the start of the 1st week of school and you had to walk a fair distance to reach your destination. You had passed by some of your batchmates, recognizing them by the plum sailor-like uniforms. Though you went to the same school, your uniform was customized to resemble those belonging in a country like England- plum blazer with a white blouse underneath and a red bow to match.

You had no idea how you managed to persuade the higher-ups, but it worked and you did it.

At the same time, the girls you just walked past suddenly rushed ahead of you, squealing to no ends at a newcomer you just noticed passing by a corner to join the walk on the main road to school. “JoJo” was what they called him in their overtly sweet tones.

The first thought you had about him from behind was that he’s giant as fuck compared to the girls around him. Though, you could tell he was in high school from the gakuran he wore (customized too with the large golden chain dangling from the collar and the ripped hat that oddly blended well with his hair).

He’s a foreigner or half probably… or maybe it’s just genetics on steroids, who knows?

You didn’t want to involve yourself in the swarm of females so you made sure to distance yourself a bit, walking ahead of them but just enough for you to throw a glance at the school’s heartthrob.

And suddenly your cheeks were warm. Not to be them but holy shit, I can see why they’re barking up this tree of a man now. From the front, you could take in his strong jaw, the toned build underneath his faded green shirt and black school jacket, the 2 tessellated triangle-patterned belts, the obvious unamused expression, and the blue-green eyes hidden underneath the tip of his hat.

Those eyes. He seems familiar for some reason.

Déjà vu aside, your mind immediately went to “bad boy” if his demeanor was to be taken into consideration. You still had to judge his character to complete your tiny hypothesis, but you had a feeling he isn’t the type to entertain anyone at the moment.

You shrugged your curiosities away and looked straight ahead, dismissing the crowd behind you, though once their squabbling grew a tad bit too loud for comfort-

“Shut up! All of you are so damn annoying!”

The deep booming voice earned itself a double take, turning to look over your shoulder to see the delinquent gritting his teeth as he shrugged off the persistent females and set a faster pace in his walk. You quickly stepped aside to make room for the other to pass, looking away for extra measure.

Talk about bold and direct. From your peripherals, you could see a glimpse of him slowing for a second to spare a look at you before turning away a second later, resuming his regular pace.

All you had as a response to what had happened were raised brows and a smile of delightful disbelief. “That’s a first.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Class flew by with no issue and it was about time to eat.

Looking for a perfect spot to eat lunch should not be this complicated and yet here you are- one hand holding a nicely wrapped bento box you bought from a bento shop near your apartment, and the other tucked underneath your chin, contemplating the ideal location for your daily lunching.

You could always eat in the comforts of your seat, but there was something off-putting in a room with fellow classmates chatting away while eating. It wasn’t that you hated them talking or the possibility of them finding you and including you in their social circle; in fact, you’d love to chat with others with no problem, your Japanese did improve over the years… just not during mealtime.

Same thoughts came through when the cafeteria was brought up in mind, coupled with the added hassle of too much people crowding the place and the noise that came with it. You just wanted to dine in peace. Well, that’s out of the picture.

There was the choice of eating outside… maybe underneath a tree? You sighed. Then again, people are passing by and eating in a sort-of-public area is just not it.

You almost considered giving up and just resorting to the first thought you had, but one more location flickered in your head. Your feet moved on its own and led you up some flight of stairs until you came across a metal door leading you to the school’s open rooftop.

It was cliché, you knew that much, but there was a reason why it became such a recurring spot for many high schoolers.

Immediately, the gentle breeze kissed your face upon entry, lightly blowing loose strands of your hair that made you clip them behind your ear. A satisfied smile grew on your face. “Ahh just as expected.” The place was spacious, surrounded by a fence for safety measures, with a couple of discarded desks and chairs by the wall beside the door, and the resident bad boy smoking on one side of the area.

Wait.

Your eyes raked in the figure sitting by the fence just to make sure you weren’t mistaking him for someone else, but with yet another double take, you could confirm that it was the same teenager.

With the way his body was angled away from the door, it was either he noticed you enter before you did or he braced the arrival of someone that wasn’t necessarily you, like a fangirl of his or a faculty member.

Despite this, you gave a curt and casual bow with a quiet “hello” (with an initial stutter as you switched the language before it slipped out of your mouth by habit). Expectedly, you received nothing but a faint smell of smoke wafting past your nose.

Okay then. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not here to harass you with flowery letters or sweets.” You approached the fenced ledge and sat a comfortable 6 meters away from the other individual. “I’m just here to eat in peace. Okay?”

No answer. “Alright!” You snapped your fingers and turned your attention to your lunch box and began to dig into the meat and veggies inside.

Minutes passed in silence and only when you were halfway finished with your food did you realize that the other did not consume anything. “Yah,” you said. “Did you eat? You’ve been smoking for some time now and didn’t touch anything edible.”

“…Why do you care?” He replied without looking at you, voice gruff as he exhaled a puff of smoke.

You cleared your throat. “I’m just pointing out an observation and then making a question out of that, doesn’t necessarily mean I ‘care’- “

“Tch,” he said. “Mind your business bitch.”

You stared at him with wide eyes and a raised brow. Excuse me? Hello? The countrymen of your place liked to blurt out profanities out in the air like it’s nothing, and you had gotten used to it to the point you took the insult as nothing.

Hearing it from a Japanese (or half) was the second surprise you received from him. Anyone who would’ve heard this would genuinely be appalled at the usage of the word, but to you, it was a breath of fresh air.

Without even thinking too much about it, your hand was on your chest in a fake insulted manner and simply spoke back with a small curl of your lip. “Unnecessary but thank you.”

For the first time within the hour, he turned his head to look at you with furrowed brows, most likely not expecting that type of reply. “That wasn’t a compliment.”

��Oh, I know. It’s just your manners of addressing women is very… how do I say this… colorful,” you replied back, smiling. “It’s my first time hearing such vulgarness in a while so thank you~”

The delinquent didn’t seem to have the words to counter what you just said and for a while, you both stared at each other in another round of silence. He clicked his tongue again and mumbled a quiet yet audible “good grief” before turning away with one last charming remark.

“Weird bitch.”

You scoffed, snarking back with a sweet overtone. “Rude asshole~”

In perfect timing, the bell rang by the time you neatly packed up your emptied lunch box. You sighed and stood, smoothing your skirt before turning to the other. “I know you’re aware but the bell rang just now and we still have class,” you said casually, as if you 2 hadn’t shared insults a few seconds ago.

“I’m heading off now. See you~” You singsonged your farewell greetings, earning you your second “tch” for the day.

Once you had your back turned to him, you couldn’t help but feel a genuine smile grow on your face, the familiar warmness returning to your cheeks. You cocked your head.

“Ah this guy…”

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Once the door clicked shut, he angled himself back into the position he was in prior to your arrival- back facing the fence, arms crossed, and one leg crossed over the other. He tipped his hat over his face, scowling the moment he found your mutual insults… amusing.

In all honesty, he didn’t expect his rooftop guest, nor any girl in this school in general, to be like this.

He was all but ready to bark a firm “get out” the moment the door opened minutes ago, but as he caught sight of your long locks, shining eyes, and unique uniform, his words got caught in his throat and ended up not saying anything. Instead, he turned away before you had noticed him.

He didn’t know why his voice decided to betray him when it hadn’t failed him in yelling at every persistent female on school grounds. Was it because you were the only one who wasn’t falling head-over-heels for him on the walk to school? Because you actually had the decency to respect his space?

Whatever it was, he appreciated it and maybe that was why.

He heard your soft voice clarifying your intentions of being here and remained silent a bit further, irritated with himself that he’s holding his aggressiveness back for you. It was only when you started to question whether he ate or not (which he did and hid the bento his mother lovingly made for him after), did his attitude return.

And when you showed a piece of your own attitude back to him, he was… taken aback. The usual response his admirers would show in response to his bluntness was the typical and annoyingly high-pitched “kya’s”. This was a first for him and a silence grew between you as a result of this. Refusing to back down from your unbothered expression, he muttered out a “good grief” before spitting out “bitch” one more time, thinking maybe another attempt would get under your nerves.

Though when you said “rude asshole” in return, he physically had to will himself not to curl his lip from the unexpected liking he had from the brief first meeting banter he and you had.

The time you left, leaving him by himself on the rooftop, he took one last drag of his cigarette and sighed, dropping the stick onto the floor shortly after and crushing the butt with the heel of his shoe.

“Good grief that woman…”

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Ever since that first day, you decided that lunch at the rooftop with the school’s infamous bad boy would be the routine you’d follow from now on.

You’d walk up the stairs, greet the early smoking bird by the fence with the enthusiasm of a grown puppy, and began eating at the same spot near him, uncaring of his disinterest in you. As usual, not once did the teenager paid any attention to your presence and found the sky more appealing.

Eventually as a couple more of days had passed, you could feel the initial tension fade away into a mutual air of ease between you two, as if both of you had gotten used to each other’s presence despite the lack of proper conversation and vulgar exchange you two did often the second you talked to him.

“Don’t mind me. I’m just gonna start venting out some feelings.”

“Whatever bitch.”

“I’ll take that as an okay then asshole.”

The new vibe between the 2 of you granted you the privilege of speaking your thoughts out into the world to release some stress you kept bottled in little by little. What you talked about? Almost anything. From something you found while window shopping in Shinjuku, to your change in food and music preferences, even to the minute details about what had happened to your rice cooker.

Your rooftop acquaintance had looked at you with a mix of genuine irritation and confusion, probably wondering how and why you became so chatty around him all of a sudden. “Why the fuck are you so noisy these days?”

“Oh, am I now? Don’t worry!” You hovered a finger over your smiling lips. “I can lower my voice to your preferred volume and- get this… curate what the topics I want to talk about. Just think of me like a radio, choose a station to your liking and I’ll broadcast whatever you want to hear.”

“Unplug yourself then.”

“Sorry, I have built in batteries that last a good while.”

“Remove the batteries.”

“Nope. Sorry. The screws been tightly shut. Almost like it was glued close apparently.”

“Good grief.”

Even if it didn’t seem like it, you could notice a tiny shift in his demeanor as more time passed and a couple more bento boxes have been emptied.

It was those small details that one could overlook if not paid closely- the way his body slowly angled toward you despite his attention remaining elsewhere, the split-second curl of his lip every time you called him an ass, the corner of a box peeking out from behind his shoes that implied he does eat lunch (with the bonus of a faint hint of pink on his cheeks once you brought it up), the subtle reactions he made to each of your stories such as a silent scoff and a brief shake of his head, and some other tidbits you were able to pick up on.

The more you just allowed yourself to vent freely, the more you got to observe more who this guy was in a way that wasn’t forced, stiff, or uncomfortable. It was strange how that worked but you didn’t complain about it. Quite the contrary actually.

Few more days in and you were comfortable enough to pause your daily venting and instead ask the delinquent questions about himself, to which was responded with his typical vocabulary of “not your business”, “shut up”, and the ever-present suffix that was “bitch.”

You shrugged. He’ll cave in eventually.

All these lunch periods of you verbally expressing yourself and attempting him to answer your queries had made you realize… Oh my god, I still don’t know his name. You were so contented in calling him “asshole” that an actual name didn’t even pop into mind.

Though it does provide a good starting point for the question-and-answer segments you had with him.

Come next day and you just finished your lunch, you turned to him with a hand cupping your cheek as you pouted. “Listen, I know you keep this silent brooding face up so well to the point you compliment me with ‘bitch’ every time I ask about you, but at the very least can I know what your name is?”

The delinquent regarded the request for a moment, staring at you for a solid minute with a cig between his thumb and forefinger, deeply contemplating whether to answer or not. You hoped he would.

And that he did.

“… Jotaro.”

Your eyes widened and you couldn’t help but let out a tiny gasp, a hand coming to hover over your mouth to hide your smile of success. The fact he actually answered properly for once and that you finally knew what to call him by aside from “asshole” …

He cocked a brow and glared at you. “Is knowing my name that amusing to you?”

“Given your silent nature, I’d take any answer from you a win for me,” you smiled. “Jotaro-ssi~”

“Hm?”

“San! I mean Jotaro-san!” You cupped your mouth, heat flooding your cheeks. “Sorry, force of habit. A roll of the tongue, you know?” Oh my god, you get to know him for the first time and you immediately slip-up. Get your head in the game!

Though he couldn’t care less about your tiny mistake as he looked away with a huff, taking another drag of his cigarette. “Whatever.” A prolonged pause hung in the air before he continued, “Well?”

You stared at him with question in your eyes. “Hm? Well what?”

He scowled, crossing his arms. “I’m telling you my name and you’re not telling yours?”

“A-Ah! Right!” You let out a nervous chuckle. Great job me. Your second mistake within the minute. Totally fine. “I’m Y/N.” You bowed your head lightly. “Nice to meet you… though this phrase is way overdue for it to be used in this context.”

With the mention of your name, Jotaro merely nodded his head and turned away to continue smoking. You were left sitting there, half-drowning in your embarrassment. A tiny part of you had been hoping he would repeat your name at least once. It definitely did not wilt in slight disappointment when it didn’t happen. Nope.

Though it seemed insignificant from a social standard, getting to know more about Jotaro was something you were hellbent on achieving. You didn’t know exactly why since learning who was who wasn’t so much as a big deal for you. You regularly made friends and getting their names wasn’t anything major.

Was it that feeling of gratification that someone who would vehemently push others away in a second, was able to tolerate you for quite some time now? That you were able to keep his rude nature at bay when others couldn’t?

Don’t get yourself wrong, he was still rude to you as if the name calling and his ever-present aloofness wasn’t already obvious, but compared to the rest, it was tamer.

You were smug about that idea and pushing through with your interest in the delinquent, continued your days with the silent individual.

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As much as he hated admitting it to himself, Jotaro didn’t mind having you around.

If anything, his usual boring of an hour break became anything but that. You’d pop your head through the door with a huge smile and a wave, you’d sit close to him with the comfortable space intact between the two of you, and start eating.

At some point, even if he knew you didn’t mind it, he wondered if he should do something to replace the silence. Of course, he could always leave under the excuse of a lie like he did multiple times before, but the image of you sitting alone in the roof after the selfish move stirred up an ugly feeling in him. As if he couldn’t bear seeing you upset.

Damnit. Can’t even fucking follow my own protocols.

Or maybe he could… ask questions just for the sake that anything remotely interactive is happening between the two. Start conversations? The fuck- Since when were you good at that Kujo?

Though once you started to spout your life stories out in the open one day, the heavy weight of being expected to initiate communication lifted off of Jotaro’s shoulders. He remained nonchalant to your stories, but he was relieved that at least some excuse of a conversation was happening.

And he was somewhat flattered that you could share that much information about yourself to someone like him out of the blue. People don’t usually hand out details about their life to strangers. With you being able to do so with him, it implied he wasn’t just a reoccurring random bad boy to you.

But to make sure, he had to hear a verbal confirmation from you. He asked in the way he could and you answered with your typical snark and annoying cheeky smile.

He swore he was doing the most just to hold the urge to smile in return.

Of course, Jotaro couldn’t tell you that he was glad you made his day-to-day a bit interesting and found his presence comfortable to be with.

Instead, while you talked, he made sure to listen to everything you said even if his posture said otherwise- he noted that a human-sized plush bear caught your attention at Shinjuku, how you preferred chicken and R&B nowadays, and even how your rice cooker broke because you attempted to cook something else that wasn’t rice.

Unknowing to him, his body started to turn to you little by little with the intent of listening to you better, his lips would betray him every time you insulted him, and because of the slight change of position, you had caught sight of his emptied bento box. He’d hidden his face with the tip of his hat as a result:

“Oh! So, you do eat before you smoke!”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just glad you’re getting your daily meals and not just nicotine 24/7.”

“I said shut up bitch.”

When you asked questions that were about himself, Jotaro didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of his past or current life (though it does look like it to those who see him), he just tended to overthink in a situation of casual, friendly talk that didn’t have any sort of threat, malice, or declarations of love laced with it.

Not much happened to me.

There’s nothing much to talk about aside from my appearance.

Shit. Am I this bad at talking to normal people?

As a result, he refused to answer your probing questions with his go-to phrases that remained meaningless when it came to you.

Once you wanted to know his name, his mind blanked for one second. A fairly simple request that didn’t need any thinking. Honestly, he’s surprised you hadn’t known his identity from the many discussions his admirers and the faculty staff had the past few weeks.

Though at second thought, you couldn’t have known it from them since they likely only ever addressed him as “JoJo” and “Kujo” respectively.

Hence, as Jotaro looked into your expectant eyes and pouty lip, he replied to you with his name. Simple and straightforward.

And you physically beamed- eyes sparkling and lips opening behind your hand to let out a small gasp of surprise. He raised his brow and glared at your exaggerated reaction out of sheer confusion. For a second, he thought you found his name funny and was ready to bark back with his usual vulgarness, but once you explained it was because he simply answered normally, he eased up.

However, when the unfamiliar honorific slipped next to his name added with the fact that it was habitual, he caught onto the error the second it was uttered. Together with your upfront personality, he couldn’t help but be more curious about you. And that included knowing your name.

When you didn’t catch the hint, he forced himself to ask for your name. Damnit, why’d you have to wait for me to ask woman?

“I’m Y/N,” you had said, bowing lightly. “Nice to meet you… though this phrase is way overdue for it to be used in this context.”

Y/N. Finally, a name he can call you by if he felt “nice”. Y/N. Jotaro nodded in return, turning away with a cig in-between his teeth to focus on compiling all his mental notes about you, now with your name added among the mix. Y/N. It was nice that it’s simple. Spared him the hassle of pronouncing your name properly.

He breathed in and let out one heavy sigh, leaning back against the fence with his arms behind his head. Admittedly, he couldn’t wait for more of your chatter and maybe he’d be prepared to talk and answer some questions you had for him.

He closed his eyes and your name constantly went on repeat in his mind.

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“Oi, you planning on starving today?”

“Aish.” You threw your empty hands in the air with mild frustration, shutting the door behind you with a gentle kick. You were 30 minutes late for the day and it was all due to your not-so minor morning inconvenience messing with your mood. “Not my fault the nearby shop was closed for the day. Granted, it’s not the first time but- ugh, an advanced notice would’ve been nice.”

“If you’re gonna whine about the inconvenience, then cook lunch yourself idiot.”

“I’ll have you know that I’d love to do that if I had the time to shop for quality ingredients.”

You’d always wanted to make a do-it-yourself lunch box with its contents coming straight from your home city’s signature recipes, but unfortunately you lived in an apartment that was far from a decent grocery and upon asking the locals about it, learned that the nearest location was at least 2 kilometers away. Oh, to have the luxury of having a driver’s license and a car right now.

Jotaro eyed at you for a few more solid seconds before directing his attention elsewhere. Even without the delicacy of shop-bought food, that didn’t stop you from visiting the rooftop to meet with the raven-haired delinquent. The mostly one-sided conversations were far more important than eating anyway.

You made a move to dust your skirt and took a seat at your usual spot, sitting with a crossed leg and your hands interlinked over your knee. With a hefty, acceptance-of-defeat sigh, you said, “I’m gonna tell you something really, really crazy, okay?”

He scoffed. “You tell crazy shit all the time. Why’s this any different?”

“You see, I’ve been venting about all about actual factual stuff in the real world, you know? Some technical issues here, an interesting fun detail about places there, and crap like that, but I’m gonna delve into some… supernatural territory here.”

No response.

“You’re going to judge anyways so I’ll just say it,” you took in a deep breath and continued. “I may have a ghost friend following me around-“ Your words halted mid-sentence when Jotaro’s attention went to you in almost an instant, those cerulean eyes of his suddenly piercing yours. “Hey listen, let me explain!”

“This ghost friend… she’s like this spooky hovering lady with a flowing dress, no legs, and a veil covering her head, and she’s been following me ever since I was a kid. Strangely though, she doesn’t harm me. She shields me,” you said, wringing your fingers together as you tried not to delve too deep into your memories. “She’s sort of a human spirit security blanket… if that’s a thing.”

“She hasn’t visited me in a while, so her just popping out of nowhere really caught me off guard and I’m afraid she’s gonna be hovering around yet again I assume.”

You’ve never opened her up to anyone, not even to your welcoming uncle who’d become your foster father for the past few years. You always thought of her as your secret imaginary friend who manifested to comfort you during your rough childhood despite her ominous look.

You avoided looking back at the past but you could always remember the soft fabric that wrapped around you like a blanket coming from the entity’s unraveled arm in an attempt to comfort you, and how the same fabric stretched taut in front of you countless times to block off and push the people who hurt you away.

It was only when you woke up from a familiar nightmare last night, gasping and sweating, did she make a prominent return, scanning you before wrapping your shivering frame with the fabric you were most fond off.

You thought the nightmares stopped after you moved to Japan, but with what just happened, you just hoped that it wouldn’t occur as frequent as it was back at your homeplace. As a way to cope with your newfound frustration, you decided to vent it out to your unruly acquaintance.

“Well,” you pursed your lips and shrugged. “That’s my vent of the day. The time for uncalled insults and creative phrases of what the fuckery is now open.”

“I have an evil sprit possessing me.”

You physically choked. Now… that was unexpected. “You’re telling me you have your own imaginary friend following you wherever you go?”

“Imaginary my ass. He’s an actual evil spirit that can deliver severe physical violence, and those who got to meet his fists are now in the hospital with several broken bones.”

You listened with full intent as your lips remained slightly agape at the idea and image of Jotaro’s supernatural companion beating up those who most likely crossed him. “Is he someone you can call out or-“

“I’m getting a hang of it, though the bastard acts on its own most of the time.”

“Can you call him now?” You asked, your head tilted out of curiosity. “I’d like to meet him myself so I’ll find relief that I’m not crazy after all.”

“People can’t see yours?”

“No apparently,” you sighed. “Whenever she appears to protect me, they don’t seem to react to her at all. In fact, they become super confused as to why they can’t get to me.”

“Well shit,” he cocked his head. “That makes 2 of us.”

“Ehem~” You cleared you throat, making the raven-haired student glance at you. “May I see him? I’ll call mine in return! Promise!”

You both stared at each other for a moment without the either doing anything, until Jotaro tipped his hat. “Good grief, you better not bullshit me with a fake surprised reaction.” He reached for his hidden empty bento box beside him and tossed it at you to which you caught. “Get up, walk there, and throw it at me as hard as you can.”

You arched a brow at the strange request but did what he asked, getting up to dust your skirt and walking over to the steel door with the box ready to be thrown in your grasp. The delinquent stood several meters away parallel to you with his hands in his pockets, his cigarette left forgotten on the ground.

“Just in case you cuss at me for this, I’ll have you know this was your idea!”

“Just fucking throw it.”

With no further confirmation, you took in a deep breath, held the box in one hand, and reared back into a baseball pitcher’s position. Just then, it just occurred to you that as much as you placed all your effort into it, the lunchbox won’t probably even reach Jotaro from this distance. Realistically, no teenage girl would have the arm power to do so.

But you had a plan.

A slight tingle crept up the hand that held the bento and as discreetly as possible from its position behind you, slender strips of fabric appeared and wrapped themselves around the container. “In the count of 3!” You called out. “1… 2…!” Without having to say the last number, you lurched forward and launched the box at the other with the speed of an expertly-kicked soccer ball.

At the same time the cloths withdrew back into your palm, you watched the speeding object close in toward his direction and for a second, your face readied to warp into a wince with the thought of the box smacking him square in the face.

But as the bento was a second away from doing so, a faint shimmer appeared beside the delinquent’s head and a purple, muscular arm manifested out of thin air just in time to punch the bento in a split second, reducing the box into tiny splinters raining down onto the concrete floor.

You gaped and let out a sound of awe. Well, there’s evidence to said violence. “What did you see?” Jotaro asked, tipping his hat down as he walked to you with casual gait. Involuntarily, you smiled and clapped in response.

“Oh my god! You do have a spirit companion like I do! I’m not crazy!”

“Not an answer,” he said gruffly.

“Ah yeah about that,” you cleared your throat. “To put it simply, an arm came out of nowhere and was what caused your lunchbox to devolve into tiny pieces- oh my god… you destroyed your bento!” You faux gasped in realization. “Money was spent on that!”

“So?” He stopped to stand a few meters away from you. “Have more at home.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, dubious with his choice of action. “Alright then rich boy. If you say so.”

“Your turn.”

“What do you…!” Within a split second, the same arm that demolished the food container headed straight to you in rapid speed before you could comprehend it.

Fortunately, your own spirit was as quick to respond to the attack.

A gush of wind blew strands of your hair back as a result of the impact the black-gloved fist made against the taut, rose gold fabric stretched in front of you. You stilled on the spot as a shot of adrenaline coursed through you, stunned at the sudden attempt.

From beyond the cloth, Jotaro stood there with what appeared to be a brief display of surprise. The cloth withdrew itself immediately into the back of your shoulder blades where it spawned from.

“You… you crazy fuck,” you cocked your head as a laugh of disbelief left you. “Can’t believe you just tried to punch me straight in the- do you know how fucked my face would be if my spirit didn’t shield me?!” At this point, you had every right to be thoroughly mad and yell at his face, though the delinquent remained aloof just as he always was.

Tipping the visor of his hat down, Jotaro cleared his throat. “Alright. I believe you. We both have evil spirits then.”

“Wha- are we gonna forget how you literally tried to punch me in the face?”

The sharp ring of the school bell interrupted the both of you and as much as you weren’t affected by it on a normal day, wringing out a concise apology from the couldn’t-care-less Jotaro was all that flooded your brain, and you couldn’t get that if you were in a class that he wasn’t in.

The other made a move to the door before you did, head slightly tilted down and a hand in his pocket. “Ya!” You grabbed his wrist just as he was about to turn the knob. “No sorry? I deserve one ass hat.”

“After class. Meet me at the gate.”

You blinked. After school meet-up… with Jotaro? Another first you wouldn’t expect from the school’s lone wolf. With your grip loosened, he took the opportunity to draw his arm away, open the door, and walk down the stairs.

With all that had happened for the past hour, your brain had yet to process it all- the visible ghosts, the closed bento shop, Jotaro’s smashed bento box, the thoughts of your past vaguely present in your mind, and the most recent offer of an after-school hangout.

You scoffed. Ah what an eventful lunch period.

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In all honesty, as you walked down the last flight of stairs and to the main entrance, you expected the delinquent to not be where he said he would be due to his uncaring nature.

But as you stepped outside, you could see a tall figure leaning against the gate walls with one hand holding his school bag and the other in his pocket, ignoring the handful of girls fawning over him as they pass him by. As if he sensed you coming, he glanced at you for a solid second and pushed himself off of the concrete.

“Ooh~” You remarked, mildly impressed at the commitment. “A man of his words, I see.”

Jotaro grumbled out words you couldn’t make out and with you now by his side, you two exited school grounds and made your way down the street. “Does it look like I’m the type to offer things at random?”

You hummed, your lips forming a tiny pout. “No, but you do look the type to get people’s hopes up with empty promises.”

The raven-haired teen didn’t respond immediately, though when he did, it came in the form of a scoff followed with a mumbling of “yeah right.”

5 minutes into your walk was filled with silence, neither party having nothing to share until you decided to play icebreaker as you always do in this type of scenario. “So…” You clapped your hands together once. “Mind telling me why you asked me to walk with you after school? No apologies were said so I see no other purpose of my presence here.”

“I’m going to buy some cigs.”

“Yeah? And I play into this how?” No response. An idea popped into mind and you couldn’t help but smirk a bit upon the thought of saying it. You bowed a bit with your arms behind you, turning your head to look at him beneath his hat. “You in the mood for a companion today Mr. Bad Boy?”

No one should have the balls of saying anything that was remotely taunting to Jotaro’s face, especially considering his massive hands were intimidating and looked like it lived up to violent expectations.

However, the latter’s face merely warped into a familiar scowl accompanied with the habit of tipping his hat.

You let out an airy laugh. “Okay okay, enough teasing from me. Since you’re not apologizing anytime soon, can I at least request something from you? Nothing too extreme don’t worry.” You said with your form back in an upright position. “Can I see him in entirety? His arm is quite thick and lovely and all, but a full body appearance is much appreciated.”

“You want another test run?”

“Is that a threat?” You said light heartedly, sending him a pointed look along with a finger pointed at him. “But in all seriousness, I’m really curious about your evil spirit. Plus, it’s not fair for me to give a detailed description of my spirit to you and for you to not return the favor.”

“Did not ask for it.”

“Your body did though don’t lie,” Jotaro was about to retort something in return, only for nothing to come out of his mouth. The lack of response helped spark that inner smugness in you and a smirk grew from it. “Aha. Guilty as charged.”

The delinquent looked away with a hand coming to hold the tip of his hat yet again. At closer look, you could spot a very faint red dusting his cheek. “Good grief. Just shut up bitch.”

You huffed, keeping the proud smug on your face intact even as you directed your attention back to the path ahead. “You still owe me an introduction to your spirit asshole.”

“Whatever.”

Banter through, you both found yourselves walking past few commercial buildings that included small business shops and convenience stores. Often times, when you walked past them on a regular afternoon, you were tempted to spend some money on what they offered just to quell that tiny explorer in you.

You let Jotaro walk ahead of you since it was his idea of wanting to buy a pack of cigarettes. He said nothing as he stepped into one of the stores by the street, leaving you standing by yourself outside with nothing but your wandering thoughts and school bag in hand to keep you occupied.

Several minutes passed and the sky began its transition from orange to dark blue, you found yourself squatted in the same spot as you watched the windows from the buildings around you start to light up. Your bag was put down beside you while you had your cheek in the palm of your hand, contemplating whether to leave his tardy ass in the shop.

Probably after few more minutes, you had thought that perhaps the bad boy stayed true to his role and ultimately decided to leave you first after having his lowkey wish that was a friend fulfilled. Through a back door maybe? Do convenience stores even have back doors where customers can flee to?

A groan was about to leave you as you stood, only to be interrupted at the sound of the door opening and the rustle of plastic mixed with faint clanking of what would be drink cans. You crossed your arms and stared at Jotaro who exited the way he entered. Devoid of emotion.

“That took a crap load of minutes just for you to buy a pack of cigs,” your gaze trailed down to his hands where a plastic bag hung, obviously filled with more things than just one box of health hazards. “Also, damn. Should I keep note that ‘some’ equates to ‘dozen’? Because that’s not just one pack.”

He said nothing as he dumped the whole bag into your arms, having the audacity of reaching into it to fish for the newly bought cigarette pack and-

“You drink too?!” You exclaimed, watching the other open the beer can and chugging the liquid down. “Oh my god. Remind me to pray for your lungs and liver.” He sent you a look and you shrugged. “I know… mind your business bitch.”

Emptied of its contents, he crushed the can with one hand and tossed the plastic onto a nearby trash chute. “Address.”

“Excuse?”

“Your address.”

You spluttered. “Ah just straight ahead from here. Why?”

In typical fashion, he remained wordless and picked the bag off your arms as he strode ahead in the direction of your apartment. You sighed, cocking your head. “Aish. What’s up with him and not answering questions properly?” You muttered to no one as you caught up to him in a second.

The destination wasn’t too far from the store you both stopped by at. Coming from there, it was an easy 5-minute walk. From small commercial buildings to residential homes, you two only had a couple more steps until you arrived at your apartment and call it a day.

You skipped forward, past the towering teenager (whose eyes were too busy scanning his surroundings to pay attention to you), and stood by the apartment’s entrance. “I don’t know about you, but this is where I’ll be dropping off.”

Jotaro diverted his gaze back at you.

Another few seconds of awkward silence before you cleared the air with a sigh and a clap. “Well… I may not be getting that apology at any point in time, but since you kind of accompanied me home, I’ll take that as an alternative.” You let out a genuine smile and gave him a small bow. “Thanks for that I suppose.”

The delinquent stared at you for a moment with no response, though you could make out the slight widening of his eyes while he looked at you.

You waited for a couple of seconds just in case he needed to find whatever words he could formulate in this situation, and you took this opportunity to appreciate those cerulean eyes of his and how pretty they were in contrast to his rugged appearance.

Eventually, Jotaro turned away from you, tipped his hat for the last time within the day and muttered out his signature catchphrase, all while he reached into the plastic to pocket the pack of cigarettes. You were about to tease him a little bit about his mannerisms until he handed you the bag with a simple “hold it.”

You were about to ask why he kept using you as a living rack, but the raven-haired teen had already turned on his heels, walking the opposite direction. “Hey! Why’d you-“ Before your question was said, the bag opened itself in your grasp and you could recognize the sight of food inside.

Immediately, you lowered into a squat to shuffle through the plastic bag’s contents- 2 bento boxes with each having different meals, a water bottle, a couple of small snacks, and a single note attached to the uppermost bento:

This was for trying to punch you.

Sorry.

Your cheeks flushed instantly, flustered as a visceral feeling of flattery coursed through you, leaving your form stunned. No way… This- Wha-. “Ya!” Apparently, a yell to the retreating figure was your brain’s immediate response to the non-verbal apology. “This is- I mean thanks so much! I’m really hungry and all, but I’d be okay if you’d simply said sorry!”

A half-raised hand from the distance was all you got in return, which did not help calm the jittery sensation you felt at the moment. “But thanks a bunch!”

You gathered your bearings together and attempted to steel yourself into composure, picking the plastic bag up and entering the apartment building with a shy smile growing on your face. However, 10 steps in and all of a sudden, you realized something was missing in your possession.

School bag. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, doing the utmost possible to not explode in confusion and frustration. You left it at the convenience store dumbass. You swore today couldn’t get more overwhelming as it already was.

And then the door knocked. You answered it and you entered into a new level of dumbstruck.

Standing- no, hovering before you was a bulky, purple humanoid with long flowing black hair, red scarf, golden shoulder plates, white loincloth, and black shoes. “Uh…” You remained speechless as he offered you a school bag, which upon looking closer was yours due to the name found in the corner of the leather.

It took less than a second for you to recognize this entity- the fingerless black gloves, the thick purple arm, the blue-green eyes. Those damn eyes.

This was Jotaro’s so-called evil spirit… casually giving you your bag with a quiet “ora”, followed with him waving at you with a grin before closing the door for you.

What was happening? You blinked a couple of times and stared at your newly-received bag for a few more seconds. Today must be a fever dream. If it weren’t for your growling stomach, you could’ve ended up staying in the same spot for the rest of the evening.

Coming to your senses, you settled into your apartment space, freshened yourself up, and prepared the table along with the food that came from the delinquent’s money. Recalling it again, you cocked your head in disbelief, still reeling from the unexpected sorry note.

Just as you were about to dine, you thought about paying him back in some fashion and reached into the school bag beside you to pull out your wallet, just to check how you fared financially, only for you to feel the corner of paper underneath the bag’s lid.

Flipping it over, there was another sticky note with a message written in the same handwriting as the previous. Reading it, your cheeks grew warm the second time as you smiled to yourself and scoffed:

Thought it’d be fair.

Also, don’t leave your bag stupid.

You held your cheek against your palm, a dumb smile fixed on your face. “Ah this guy really…” On second thought, maybe this infamous bad boy was more than what he looked on the outside.

Your new life in Japan might not be as boring as you thought it would be after all.

[umbra-borealis]

Little Toxin Masterpost. No ref sheet yet but for every like this post getst I'll leave a fact about Toxin and his parents below! Retweets count too!

Facts below the Read More!

Fact #1

Toxin's parents are Shadow and... Scourge!

They're a close family that lives isolated because they all hate being around people for too long.

Fact #2

Toxin goes by he/they pronouns and is intersex like both his parents. Yes, both, it's a no brainer on Shadow since him being alien tends to go hand in hand with otherworldly... situations but Scourge requires some more context. Keep liking the post and I'll share that too ;)

Fact #3

Okay okay, Scourge context!

Scourge has fused with Chaos in this AU making him a water elemental. On top of that Scourge's mother was a mimic octopus pretending to be a hedgehog to trick his father, whom I've also re-written and given the name 'Cobalt', into marrying her to connect their kingdoms. When she was found out she fled, leaving her two sons behind, one of which was Scourge and this technically means he's already a hybrid. His affinity for water is genetic, he was practically born to be homies with Chaos.

Scourge didn't inherit the camouflage ability like his brother Sapphire did, no he got the funky gender shenanigans instead and with no one to tell him stuff or compare himself to, he opted to tell everyone he's cis and run if they ask sussy questions. Shadow is the first person he told.

Fact #4

Shadow 'carried', as much as you can call it that side his alien species is of the egg laying variety. (No I will not go further into detail) He's part of a race (that's essentially Black Arms and The End from Forces combined and expanded upon) called 'Nova Luna' and his species generally has traits such as digitigrade legs and crystalline growths on their body of varying shapes, colors and sizes. (I have art of this coming very soon)

High ranking individuals pose as fake moons, hiding their colossal bodies to influence a planet from a distance. Shadow however has turned his back to them for good after having met Scourge. Toxin and Scourge are the best things that ever happened to him.

Fact #5

They had no idea this would be possible, but Shadow had no issues carrying and Toxin hatched about as normally as a little toxic green alien hybrid pup can. Needless to say they were relieved to see a hedgehog and not some horrible mismatch of their DNA with a ton of genetic issues. Toxin was a healthy pup, if anything he was causing his parents problems instead.

Fact #6

Toxin is in fact, venomous! He's not lethal but a decent bite from him as an adult can paralyze you for a couple hours and a small nip is enough to partially paralyze/sedate the area. Scourge found this out the hard way after Toxin hatched and got nipped in his hand. They had to teach him in his toddler years to not use his teeth to solve every minor inconvenience.

Fact #7

Toxin's abilities are mostly Chaos Energy related. While his parents are fire and water elemental's Toxin appears to have an in-born talent to control raw energy by itself, which is incredibly dangerous! :D

Shadow and Scourge are only two out of seven Guardians who each have an element they master and controlling an element is just handling electricity cables while controlling the raw energy form is the equivalent of grabbing an exposed wire and hoping for the best. There's no buffer in the form of an element to focus energy in, on or through. Why Toxin has this talent is unknown... to most.

Fact #8

His shoes were absolutely a gift from Shadow and an updated replica of his own. Toxin was gifted the shoes when he was 18 and does regular maintenance on them ever since. Its important to him emotionally but not just because it was a gift. It allows him to keep up with his parents in speed and he has many fond memories of learning how to use them with their help.

Fact #9

I know the shirt he's wearing mentions a vape, but he doesn't actually use them. Most he does is smoke the good old fashioned way and even that is sparingly. Because of his alien DNA he's ridiculously fast at healing any injuries or ailments and isn't very addiction sensitive. He'd be lying if he didn't do it to look cool though. He's an edgelord. (Toxin is a cartoon, it's not my aim to romanticize or endorse anything. He'll be fine but us humans wont be, so with that said, don't harass me over art okay? Cool)

Fact #10

Toxin's personality switches between calm, reserved, barely talking at all and absolutely unhinged. It depends on who he's with. Shadow definitely brings out a calmer side in him while Scourge is the type of chaotic dad who teaches his kid curse words and pranks. He's a good guy though and knows when to be serious.

Fact #11

He considers Sonic and Knuckles to be his uncles, even if they're not at all related. They were the first people to give Scourge a chance and support his growth into a better person after all. They would've done the same for Shadow and when Toxin came along they would do anything from babysit to teaching the young hedgehog how to use his abilities. Toxin gets along great with both of them but secretly prefers Sonic, he'll drop just about anything to grab food with his favorite uncle.

Fact #12

The Nova Luna have a hierarchy based on minerals and as they age or improve in skill there's a chance they can 'evolve' into a different rank. Toxin is an elusive Emerald to them because their whole deal is their obsession with the Ancient's Chaos Emeralds. Controlling all that power would make them all powerful and be capable of controlling the galaxy. The thing is, none of them have ever risen higher than the Ruby rank. Toxin however is related by DNA to someone of said Ruby rank, as well as someone directly responsible for guarding and controlling at least one of the Chaos Emeralds in the present day. That combination of the perfect circumstances caused Toxin to be born with the elusive Emerald rank.

Fact #13

Toxin being this rare of a creature makes him priority number 1 to the Nova Luna and since I have no intentions of writing his story just yet since it's pretty deep into the AU I just barely started writing, I can go ahead and say that he does get taken and spends at least a year in servitude/training to the Nova Luna.

Fact #14

Of course has trauma from his time there, but he did learn a lot about himself too and managed to cling to that knowledge for dear life. Any progress he made in skill level would come to bite the Nova Luna in the ass super hard in the end. Once reunited with his parents, Shadow and Scourge help him process everything he's experienced as they too have experience with trauma.

[littlesistersti]

TF Armada Alexis’s Full Name

Full disclaimer out of the way, I’ve never watched Armada. I plan to though. Also, pull up a chair. This is another long one.

Some of you know her. Some of you know a specific version of her. Whether it’s Alexis/Alexa from the anime, Alexis Garner from @itsthelass​ ‘s fic, Faeformers, your own, etc. During the time of the show’s run, she wasn’t given an official last name until this Almanac came out. 2010 vs. 2002 difference. Her full name is Alexis Thi Dang, confirming she’s Vietnamese. We don’t know she is full Vietnamese or half Vietnamese or what. Her design isn’t helpful. 

I’ll accept Vietnamese American girls with brown hair. That were a few of my classmates in elementary school and almost every auntie I see. (Years are VERY off, but you get the point.) Good times. I don’t understand her green eyes though. Green eyes are less common than blue eyes, but genetics tend not to apply in anime/cartoons. (See Marinette’s blue eyes from the Miraculous Ladybug show. Also the fact, how Japanese characters look in anime compared to non-Japanese characters or real life Japanese people) I don’t know what eye colors her parents have, but if the green is natural, she must be at least a quarter Vietnamese. I think? I’m not doing math right now. Unless it’s a genetic mutation, but I don’t know how to tackle that. Yes, I know it’s possible for Vietnamese girls to have blue eyes. However, Google gave me one result of a Vietnamese girl with natural blue eyes, but she is one of the mountain people (ethnic minority). I should know the word for them, but I took Viet 1 some four years ago and forgotten. Other than that, all I have as evidence is this one girl I saw at my high school who has striking blue eyes and can never tell if it’s natural or not. I should’ve asked her, but her fluency and mien bac accent scared me. 

I’m suspecting her green eyes are contact lenses, with prescription or not. It could be a headcanon for a fic. Do what you like with it. I edited some pictures of her with different colors below. Just to see how it’ll turn out. 

You might be wondering why I’m even starting this discussion in the first place. “She’s from an old anime, don’t make a fuss.” “It’s just the color choice of the designers, whatever.” Yeah, but you know how excited I was when I read her last name? The fact I got a smidge of representation, even if it’s more Word of God than canon? The only other Asian humans we got are Sari Sumdac (kinda? Techno-organic?), Isaac Sumdac, and Miko Nakadai. There might be more I’m missing; feel free to let me know. 

So where I going with all this nonsense? I want Alexis to showcase more of her Vietnamese culture. 

Yeah, I know. Awful of me. Again, I’m giddy she’s Vietnamese. I know it’s impossible to show any of the Vietnamese stuff since the anime’s long over and almost nobody knows she’s Vietnamese. All I’m asking is a fanfic where it’s shown. It can be small or big. You know what, draw her in an ao dai or something. Have her eat banh cuon. I guess I should write my own things too. “If you can’t find it, make it yourself” sort of feelings. 

Edited on PicsArt using only the Adjust tool. 

Black hair only

Black hair with brown eyes

Brown eyes only.

Black hair and brown eyes. Tried to give her black hair that blue effect comic books tend to have. 

[loverboy-plush]

what Splatoon species i think the hlvrv cast would be

Loverboy / Gordon B

Inkling

Gordon B is seen as one of the physically stronger ones. He is smart but i feel like his strength kinda out shines his knowledge. (Also due to the fact that the little heart ahoge could be possible on Inklings)

Weapons

He would most likely play heavy weapons and i can see him playing both Dynamo and Hydra.

Swap

Inkling / Inktoling

Swap would probably be a Inkling, but he’s from the swap universe so that would mean the way Inkling and Octolings act would also be swapped. So he would most likely appear as a Inkling, as that would be the most common species found at Black Mesa (due to the scientists most likely being Inklings)

There is also a reason for Swap to be a Inktoling, as he’s an alien and therefore wouldn’t really know the difference between Inkling and Octolings. It would also make sense as they technically can’t exist (due to it being mostly genetically impossible) and it could show that he doesn’t have the best knowledge on Inkling and Octoling (it’s shown that he didn’t have the best knowledge on humans)

Weapons

Undercover Brella for the sole reason that Neo made a joke about it, and Swap just went with it.

Kittle / Malcom

Octoling

Malcom would be an Octoling due to the fact of the knowledge he has on coding and his general knowledge on things. But also shown that he’s kinda a recluse and Octoling were separated from almost all other species and became recluses.

Weapons

I can see him playing Chargers and Stringers. He would most likely play Splatterscope and Inkline Tri-Stringer

Player

Stantized Octoling

Player has issues figuring out who he is, and Sanitized Octolings technically all following the same orders and acting the same. It would help show Player’s issues knowing who he is, especially with Malcom being an Octoling it would help Player struggle a bit with who he is.

Weapons

I can see him playing a weapon from every class really, but I feel like he would play Sloshers and Dualies the most. Playing Tri-Slosher Nouveau and Light Tetra Dualies.

Doc

Fuzzy Octoling

Come on he fell into a thing of goo (even tho it was green and would prob be whatever is used to make Sanitized Octolings) and gained powers of sorts. And i think it would be funny if he was just a Fuzzy Octoling instead of a Sanitized Octoling.

Weapons

I see him as a Splatling player that plays a bit of every Splatling, but he would play Heavy Splatling Deco and Heavy Edit Splatling the most

Freeman

Octoling / Sanitized Octoling

Hear me out, Freeman was originally a normal Octoling, but when his G-man ‘gave’ him his job he became a Sanitized Octoling. It would make sense as he has to follow set rules and Sanitized Octoling follow every order and rule given to them. And after Freeman gets his memories back and G-man is gone he (possibly) gets turned back into a normal Octoling as an apology from the employers.

Weapons

I feel like he would only play Shooters, but plays the same weapons. He would most likely play .96 Gal, Jet Squelcher, and Squeezer.

also little bonus pic :3

[runtpig]

soft asks by sunnysideanon

i treat ask games like surveys, we all know this.

what song makes you feel better?

who listens to music to feel better?

what’s your feel-good movie?

i dont watch movies qwq im sorry these are rough answers

what’s your favorite candle scent?

i usually like winter fruit smells. so plums, pomegranates, grape, deep and rummy sorta scents. i also like rich sweet ones, resin-y smells. i like a nice light floral mix (iris, jasmine, lily, rose) on cleaning days.

what flower would you like to be given?

lillies. any lillies, but i like madonna lillies

who do you feel most you around?

my partner system, but specifically trent. he is me, and ive never felt it more than when we're together. my brothers are a close second.

say three nice things about yourself (three physical and three non-physical)

i have gold rings around my pupils i just noticed the other day. they're gorgeous and i have no idea where i got them from genetically-- maybe my mother. she has gold in her green eyes. i'm glad i got something from her eyes, i'm jealous of them. i have insanely enviable hair. my nails are elegant... also enviable. im wicked talented and sharp, nobody can create the way i can-- BITCH???? ok one of my favorite songs paused randomly that was a whole experience. answer cancelled next question

what color brings you peace?

pale green. this isn't bad, though.

what calms you down?

being alone in my own space. writing music/poetry. having a clean space. music-- hey, i guess that first question was onto smth

what’s something you’re excited for?

grocery run tomorrow, haircut sometime this week. yay.

what’s your ideal date?

taking turns spitting vodka into each others mouths and banging our skulls together til we pass out

how are you?

im fine! a lot of excess energy strangely which is funny b/c i haven't had any caffiene today. that reminds me i need to add energy drinks to my grocery list. eeeeeeee also feeling sappy. in love. so in love hehe

what’s your comfort food?

probably any kind of salad theyre very safe foods

favorite feel-good show?

i dont dream of watching televi-- interview with the vampire.

fairy lights or LED lights?

fairy lights. LED lights make me anxious to look at but now Everyone has them so what do i know

do you still love stuffed animals?

yes.

most important thing in your life?

myself, but secondly, my fiance.

what do you want most in the world right now?

a kiss.

if you could tell your past self one thing, what would it be?

don't smoke cigarettes and don't tell that girl everything.

what would you say to your future self?

keep doing it, even if it's uncomfortable. trust your gut, not your body.

favorite piece of clothing?

my black turtleneck or my fur coat.

what’s something you do to de-stress?

bounce and moan on it

what’s the best personal gift someone could give you (playlist, homemade card, etc.)

moneyyyy!!! oh, personal. money from their personal bank account!!! (a card. i collect those.)

what movie would you want to live in?

childs play. id fuck that doll and save the little boy JFIOWEJFE

which character would you want to be?

... oh myself isnt an option ok. then id wanna be in clueless and be cher. id like to be rich

hugs or hand-holding?

hugs. i need my hands for other things but i can be hugged forever

morning, afternoon or night?

ALL OF THEM ALL OF THE TIME

what reminds you of home (doesn’t have to mean house… just things that remind you of the feeling of home)?

horses, dirt roads, hotel rooms, cigarette smoke.

[cornyregans]

GVGP Profile: Albany Capp

Having finished what is, so far, the most verbose profile in the GVGP, we're moving on to something a tad more succinct. This time, we're covering the sim in this batch who fathered the most children -- Albany Capp.

Albany’s family tree shows that his ancestors were part of the “new blood” brigade. This means that, despite being counted among the fourth generation gang, he’s technically a third generation sim within his birth family. In terms of ancestry, Albany is the son of Richard and Anne Norman, as well as the grandson of William and Mathilde Norman, and Henry and Eleanor Anjou.

Albany Capp's Genetic Profile

Albany Capp's Visual Profile

Having fathered four children with his wife, Goneril, Albany will be present in each of his offsprings' genetic profiles, and will be given a mention whenever necessary.

Skintone

As the son of an S2 father and an S1 mother, Albany’s S1 skintone makes perfect sense.

Hair Color

Albany is the blond son of a black-haired father and a brunette mother. That said, the fact that blond(e) hair is present on both sides of his family tree means that Albany’s hair color makes sense, provided both of his parents had recessive alleles in their genetic codes.

Albany's Grandparents

The source of the blond(e) allele among Albany’s paternal ancestors is William Norman, who passed his allele down to Richard, which was then passed down to Albany. As for his maternal ancestors, the source in this case would be Eleanor Anjou, who passed her allele down to Anne, which was then passed down to Albany.

Eye Color

Much like his hair genetics, Albany’s eye genetics skipped a generation. Unlike his hair genetics, Albany’s ancestors’ eye colors are almost all recessive, and the only dominant one doesn’t make any sense (*cough* Anne *cough*).

On both sides of Albany’s family tree, it’s his grandmother who initially carried the gene for green eyes. That said, because Albany’s family history is filled with recessive eye colors, only one of his grandmothers would have needed to pass the allele down to him. If, however, both of them passed it down, then Albany would be homozygous for the trait.

As a Whole

Albany's filled out genetic profile. His skintone makes perfect sense, while his hair and eye colors both make sense if we assume they just weren't expressed for a generation (this is in spite of Anne's faulty dark blue eyes, by the way).

Who's Next?

Having covered the final sim who married into the Capp family, our next entry will cover the final sim who married into the Monty family. Next time, we're going to look at the only deceased sim who hasn't been covered yet -- Hero Monty.

Thank you for reading!~ <3

[atarahderek]

The Genetics of the Madrigals

Because why not? (Useful for all your fanmade bisnietos.)

To start, some terminology.

When dealing with the basics of genetics--that is, dominant vs. recessive traits--I use the same terminology as breeders in the husbandry communities I'm a part of--in particular the herpetofauna community. Geneticists and hobbyists alike use the terms "homozygous dominant," "homozygous recessive" and "heterozygous" to describe whether an organism possesses dominant or recessive traits, or a mixture of the two, respectively. Hobbyists shorten "heterozygous" to "het." It has subsequently become a noun as much as it is an adjective. An animal that possesses "hets" is an animal that expresses a dominant gene for a given trait, but carries a recessive gene that acts as a variation of that trait (e.g. a non-albino animal that carries the gene for albinism is considered het albino).

There are also "possible hets." These are organisms that have a documented chance of carrying a recessive trait, but the dominant trait is too strongly expressed to be able to tell for certain. A good example in humans is eye color. Brown is the dominant color, while blue/gray is recessive. The brown eye trait can be either completely or incompletely dominant, meaning it may or may not allow the recessive trait to be partially expressed. Green and hazel eyes represent an incompletely dominant brown eye trait paired with a recessive blue eye trait. So a person with green or hazel eyes is most certainly het for blue eyes. But a person with brown eyes could possibly be het for blue eyes as well. That person's chances of possessing that het depend on the genetics of the parents. For instance, if both parents were het for blue eyes, but the offspring has brown eyes, then the offspring possesses a two in three chance of being het for blue eyes. We call this 67% het blue eyes.

This analysis will look at the hair and eye colors possible in La Familia Madrigal. Hair color in Colombia is influenced by both European and indigenous South American genes, as well as a good mix of African genes and a sprinkling of genes from other parts of the world. Blond and red/ginger do not exist in South America naturally, but were introduced by Europeans. These colors are today well represented in the population of Colombia, as are all hair textures (for more on that, see the following video):

Since the blond gene (which is co-dominant with brown over red) does not appear to be present in the current Madrigal family, we can just ignore it. For the purposes of this analysis, I am grouping brown and black hair together, since the two colors are simply mild variations of the same gene.

We know Alma and Pedro both have a 100% chance of carrying the red hair gene, because while neither of them have red hair, they nonetheless produced one red-haired child: Pepa. They can be considered het ginger. And while neither Bruno nor Julieta have red hair, they have a chance of inheriting the ginger gene from one of their parents.

Bruno and Julieta are each 67% het ginger, as they each have a two in three chance of carrying the recessive ginger trait. Brown/black hair tends to be completely dominant over red (blond less so; as a blonde who is 100% het ginger, I can attest to this), so it's not very common for a het ginger brunette to express any of the red hair trait. Since Bruno and Julieta are both 67% het ginger, they have at least half that chance--or 33%--of passing that gene along in some form to their offspring. Remember this, as it will come up later.

Alma and Pedro both have brown eyes. Since two of their children have green and hazel eyes, which are only possible with the incomplete expression of the brown eye gene paired with a blue eye trait, we know that at least one of them also carries the blue eye trait, albeit paired with a completely dominant brown eye trait. Since we don't know which of them carries this trait, we can say that each of them is 50% het for blue eyes.

Meanwhile, we CAN say with confidence that Pepa and Bruno are both 100% het for blue eyes. Julieta, on the other hand, is 50% het for blue eyes. Since each of her parents has an equal chance of carrying or not carrying the blue eye trait, so does she.

So, to recap:

Alma - 100% het ginger, 50% het blue eyes

Pedro - 100% het ginger, 50% het blue eyes

Julieta - 67% het ginger, 50% het blue eyes

Pepa - Ginger, 100% het blue eyes

Bruno - 67% het ginger, 100% het blue eyes

Moving on to the third generation, we have the cool color siblings: Isabela, Luisa and Mirabel.

All three of the cool color sisters are brunettes with brown eyes. Because we don't know Agustín's genetics, we don't know if he has any hets. So we will have to assume the girls' genetics based on their mother.

Julieta has half the chance of passing along any hets she possesses that she has of actually possessing them. In other words, since she is 67% het for ginger, she only has a 33% chance of passing that trait along. Thus each of her girls has at least a 33% chance of possessing the ginger trait. Likewise, since Julieta is 50% het for blue eyes, each of her girls is at least 25% het for blue eyes.

Next, the warm color siblings: Dolores, Camilo and Antonio.

As the offspring of Pepa, each of these kids has a 100% chance of possessing the ginger trait. None of them have red hair, so they are all 100% het ginger. As for eye color, Dolores and Antonio both have brown eyes, while Camilo has hazel eyes. Camilo, we can be sure, is 100% het for blue eyes. Dolores and Antonio have a smaller chance of possessing the blue eye trait. We don't know Félix's genetics, but we can probably assume he lacks any hets for hair or eye color, and is most likely homozygous dominant for both traits. Thus Dolores and Antonio are each 50% het for blue eyes, meaning they each have an equal chance of possessing or not possessing the blue eye trait.

Grandkid roundup:

Isabela - 33% het ginger, 25% het blue eyes

Luisa - 33% het ginger, 25% het blue eyes

Mirabel - 33% het ginger, 25% het blue eyes

Dolores - 100% het ginger, 50% het blue eyes

Camilo - 100% het ginger, 100% het blue eyes

Antonio - 100% het ginger, 50% het blue eyes

Now that you know what your fan great-grandbabies can potentially look like, and the odds thereof, go forth and create! Play with the statistics and have fun!