#olly's writing thoughts

[oliverferrie]

I finally watched all the Mobile Suit Gundam movies and I thought they did a very good job of highlighting how fucked the situation was of grooming talented young people into positions in the military.

The charismatic antagonist Char is one that is gonna stick with me for a while. The way he manipulates people - particularly young women - into getting what he wants while making them believe this is what they want is so well done, it's horrifying. His motivations were lofty and idealistic but ultimately infused with an incredibly emotional, needy fervour. The blending of passion and politics, of love and logic, the mistaking them for the same thing, is the powerful man's bread and butter, and he will take away this bright young thing's autonomy whilst wanting her to play mother for him.

THIS IS EXACTLY THE KIND OF VILLAIN I LIKE TO EXPLORE

and I appreciate how the director just so blatantly included dialogue throughout the movies that just calls him out on this. Excellent movies, well-thought-out characters, 10/10.

I'm on a real kick from this now. I am going to use this energy to work on my next novel,

MOTH,

where a fucky villain that is just far too good at using people starts the story at an advantage and, it falls to our titular character to try and pull that advantage out from under his feet.

[sheawritesstuff]

Redacted Fic Ideas

[These are ideas I've had but writer's block has prevented me from actually writing, so I'm releasing them into the world so maybe someone else can write them :] ]

✩ Honey taking Guy to a concert they like - probably punk or metal and getting to teach him how to mosh

✩ Movie night with Freelancer, Gavin, and Caelum

✩ Darlin wrestling with Asher and Milo while they’re all shifted

✩ Ollie introducing Coworker / Mentor to his friend group - or telling said friend group that they’re a couple

✩ The pack setting up a surprise birthday party for David because he would never agree to have one of his own volition

✩ Angel and Babe trying to teach Asher how to cook because maybe David just tried teaching him the wrong way

✩ Elliott and Sunshine reunion - very sappy, very angsty

✩ Darlin explaining how important the term “mate” is to them and what kind of weight it holds in their relationship

✩ Camelopardalis checking in on Baby, just to make sure they’re still doing alright

✩ Asher tricking Milo and Darlin into watching a horror movie

✩ Hush trying to do research on humans and finding outdated, questionable material which leads him to ask Doc weirdly specific clarifying questions on things they’ve never even considered before

✩ Sam explaining to Fred and his progeny that he’s leaving the Solaire clan and offering to take them with him to be their new support system 

✩ Morgan and the seer playing a game of Never Have I Ever / 20 Questions to get to know each other better

✩ Aaron making dinner for Elliott, Sunshine, and Smartass and getting to catch up with all the non-cult stuff that they missed out on

[hersurvival]

You are alive -

You open your eyes each morning

And breathe just like the rest of us.

But do you live?

Or do you fight every night

Just to get out of your own mind,

Desperate to escape the past?

Exhausted day in and day out,

Distracted, your head swirling

With thoughts better off

Forgotten?

Talk to me,

I don't understand where you go sometimes -

I search and search

But I have lost the word to utter

When you give up,

When you wish to end the game of hide-and-seek.

I just want you to come back to me.

Olly olly oxen free.

[teafourbirds]

Please take a moment to admire Tiny Baby Roy Harper who is Trying So Hard to organize his notes and finish his book report while Ollie cheerfully smokes a pipe and distracts him with random facts.

It is my firm headcanon that Ollie goes on to derail the writing of the book report by reading Connecticut Yankee out loud, substituting himself and Roy for Hank Morgan, and that the whole of the following comic (later described as "maybe a dream????") is actually his retelling (Chitty-chitty Bang Bang-esque, for anyone old enough to have grown up on that movie). Because really, what else is Ollie's dream (especially this clean-shaven young Ollie) but to be an old-fashioned hero saving villagers from wild boars and emptying slaves from the dungeons of evil queens?

Adventure Comics #268

There will just never be enough early Ollie-tiny Roy content on this earth to suit me, and one of my favorite games to play is building out their golden/silver age stuff in my head to fit with the later comics. I still haven't read very much past the early 2000s (and almost nothing post-Flashpoint) but one of the major exceptions is the 2022 "Earn It Back" story, which is the loveliest Roy-Ollie relationship, where Ollie is Trying So Hard to be a good parent for Roy but also is clearly uncertain about what a good parent looks like, vacillating between being overly permissive and overly strict.

(Ollie's lack of parental figures growing up is another of those astonishingly under-explored stories, IMO. The few interactions we see involve him begging to be allowed to travel with his parents, and his father telling him to "toughen up" when he doesn't want to go hunting. This followed almost immediately by his parents getting mauled by lions in front of him, and then getting shipped off to boarding school by an unnamed uncle. Of course Ollie doesn't know what he's doing. Bruce, the famous orphan, had Alfred from the beginning - who did Ollie have? What does he know about being a parent? I think he goes in with a lot of love and no game plan, except maybe for his firm conviction that Roy is strong and capable and resilient. That he'll be okay no matter what Ollie does. That he probably doesn't really need Ollie at all except as a partner in crime.)

So I'm eternally fascinated by going through the old World's Finest/Adventure Comics (which is nearly all we have of young Roy-Ollie) and imagining how those dynamics fit together. Little Roy, who collects stamps and stands up to bullies and is the secretary of the school's Green Arrow Fan Club (lmao) and is saving up to buy a sailboat and tries SO HARD to prove himself. Ollie, who trusts Roy to pull himself up but still follows him to make sure he's safe when he’s been gone to long, who whisks Roy away from school and homework to save the world, who doesn't realize the extent of his influence over Roy, who trusts that Roy has everything under control because of course he does, because Roy is just that great.

Adventure Comics 262 // Green Lantern (1960) #85

Anyway, all that is to say, enjoy a bit of Ollie trying to be helpful by distracting Roy from his homework with stories of heroism and bravery. They are everything to me.

Adventure Comics 264

[vvmylove]

Liking you isn't so bad after all

I do not apologize for the jumpscare 

FOR @ayylovley Here you go. Please enjoy

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ ONLY

Life on the run was not easy for Moon. Luckily, after bumping into James one night and a few arguments. James had convinced her to join Hostel, to fight along with them. At first, Moon found James a little creepy, but after a while, she had gotten used to his crazy antics. 

James had introduced Moon to their leader, Olly. At first, Olly wasn't so fond of Moon. He found her useless. He had solely created Hostel A to recreate Hostel B. It's not like Moon was a replica of Sally(haha get it?) Anyways, she decides to stick around and help get money for the group. Moon had spent most of her time trying to ignore Olly’s presence, but it was difficult when he was the one always ordering her around. (exchange Moon for Y/N I got lazy for the beginning here)

-

“We will use you as a distraction. Distract the guards and leave immediately,” Olly orders. He had seemed excited for the mission. He was going to get money after all. Olly was driving James and Y/N to a large facility.

Y/N glares over at Olly, shrugging. ‘Is that really all that I am worth to him? A distraction rather than a part of the mission?’ she thought to herself, sighing. Crossing her arms, she looks away with a sour look on her face. She wanted to prove to Olly that she was capable of more than just some doll as a distraction. 

The Van halts and they scurry out of it. Olly points over at the building. “Kill anyone who interferes,” he says over to James. Olly knew James was capable, anyone as insane determined as him would get the job done. Despite Olly’s seemingly casual attitude, she saw the faint smirk on his face. Was he really trying to test her? Both boys ran to the side of the building, grabbing anything that could be used as a weapon. 

As expected, Y/N had to fend for herself. Ill show you, you damn- She takes a nearby stick and throws it at one of the guards. So much for a ‘great distraction.’ The guards immediately responded by flaring out their weapons, pointing at the direction of the stick, pointing at Y/N. At first, they thought of her as just another stupid passerby. That was until she decided to slam herself onto one of the bodyguards, both of them stumbling back. Her eyes widened. She had not thoroughly developed a plan at all, so much for trying to show off. She uses her knees to jab at the bodyguard's stomach. The other bodyguards were quick to grab onto her, pushing her off the bodyguard on the floor. One of them pokes the weapon at her side, “What makes you think-” he said condescendingly. 

If there was one thing about Y/N, it is that she was quick with her movements. She was able to slither herself off the bodyguard's grip and make a run for it without a second thought. 

Making a run for it, she could hear the loud stomps of the guards as they quickened with her every step. The guards seemed determined to catch her, viewing her as a perceived threat. Running far would only cause her further trouble, as she would soon be lost. She makes a turn, heading back towards the building. 

-

Olly and James had successfully made their way out of the building, bloodied and tired. It didn’t matter how many they had killed, all that mattered was the abundance of cash in their hands, stuffed in their pockets. 

“Y/N?” Olly questions, looking around the building as he makes his way towards the car. He stuffs the cash in his car. “I only asked you to do one damn thing-” he mutters to himself, now annoyed that Y/N wasn’t in sight. Olly takes a deep breath, looking around once more before seeing the large group of armed men chasing Y/N in the near distance. 

He quickly gets into the car, James following along, and turns the wheel over to the direction of the guys. He pressed his foot on the gas as hard as he could, hitting the guys all at once. 

Y/N saw the familiar van stopping in front of her, feeling a mix of relief and frustration. Olly’s annoyance was radiating as he ordered her to get inside of the car.

“Get your ass in the car,” Olly seethed through his teeth. Y/N quickly nodded before getting into the car, cash spilled from their pockets onto the floor. 

“What took you so long huh? I told you to distract them and leave,” Olly says angrily, looking through the mirror to get a glimpse of her. He sped away from the scene, and Y/N couldn’t shake off the feeling that Olly had not been satisfied with her performance, especially when her job was as simple as distracting a bunch of guards. 

Y/N bites the inside of her cheek as she turns away from him, since when did he care so much about her wellbeing? So much for trying to prove herself as a worthy teammate. She scoffs, “Why don’t YOU distract the guards then?” Olly’s words had stung her, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that he had come to rescue her. The way he pressed on the gas, hitting the guards all at once, reminded her that despite his irritated exterior, he was still capable of caring for his teammate. 

Olly had just saved her from any further danger, and she couldn’t bring herself to be grateful. It wasn’t her fault that the guards went after her. Maybe if he did something instead of ordering her around and doing all the fun himself- She shakes off her contradicting thoughts. 

-

Y/N had spent weeks trying to ignore Olly's presence, but as she watched him lead the mission with confidence, she found herself increasingly drawn to him. He moved with ease through buildings, dealing with groups of men all at once with his bare hands. It was always Olly who stepped forward to face the enemy. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Olly was secretly trying to pull her in. She couldn’t deny the way her heart raced whenever he turned towards her, or the way her breath hitched in her throat when he smiled. 

There was no way she would have feelings for a guy like him? She despised him, or so she thought. She paces around the room, talking to herself out of frustration. “There's no way I like him, it's not like he's cute or anything,” she tries to reason with herself. 

What she had not realized was James making his way towards her, wanting to ask her for help with counting cash. Instead, he finds her talking to herself and decides to listen in. Pressing his ear against the door, he giggles to himself. 

“...way I like him, it's not like he's cute or anything”  was all James heard. He dramatically gasps to himself before skidding his (stupid ass) way to Olly. 

James grabs onto Olly, shaking him by the shoulder with a large grin plastered onto his face. He knew something was up between Y/N and Olly, sensing the tension between them. After a few minutes of giggling like a schoolgirl, he spills to Olly the news. 

-

Olly slowly opens the door to Y/N’s room, staring at her with a smirk as he leans on the doorframe. "I didn't know you felt that way about me," he says seductively. 

Y/N was a little confused as to what he was saying, too lost in her thoughts. Olly made his way towards her and immediately grabbed her by the waist, bringing her closer. She could feel her heart race in her chest. Her breathing quickened as he leaned in for a kiss. He slaps her side, earning a small gasp from her and uses this opportunity to slip his tongue in her mouth. 

Y/N had completely forgotten about everything as her mind started to spin from the kiss. Lost in the moment, she kisses him back passionately, synchronizing the movement of her lips with his. Olly deepens the kiss, running his hand up and down her back, slowly pushing her towards the wall until her back hits it. She felt a sense of warmth spread throughout her body as his hands stopped onto her lower back, bringing her impossibly closer to him. Olly’s tongue explores her mouth, his fingertips grazing her skin before tightly gripping onto her hips. 

Within the next few moments, clothes were tossed to the side. Moans echoed through the room as Olly brought his hands down to her wet core, easily slicking two fingers into her. “You're so wet,” he murmurs onto her skin as he starts to quicken his pace. Y/N’s hips buck into his hands, a mess as her back arches off the bed. “M-more,” she desperately moans, feeling close to her climax. 

“Jump,” he commands, breathless, moving his hands down to the back of her thighs. Y/N complies, wrapping her legs around his waist. Olly gently lays her on the bed, hovering himself on top of her. Y/N grabs onto his shoulders, spreading her legs for him.

“Good girl,” Olly chuckles at her eagerness, leaning down to kiss her lips one more time before trailing down to her neck. He places wet, sloppy kisses all over her neck. Y/N tilts her head, giving him more access as she moans softly. 

Olly decides to be a tease, pulling out his fingers and shoving them into her mouth. Y/N involuntarily licks her own wetness off his fingers as his mouth waters at the sight. She whined at the sudden loss of touch. He lines himself up to her core, slowly rubbing his dick on her entrance. “Say it, say you want it,” he teases. 

“M-yes, Olly. I want you” she moans. That was all it took for him to obey, he was as desperate as her. He pushes himself into her, and Y/N’s hands claws his back. “Such a good whore,” he cooes into her ear as his hips rock back and forth. Y/N whimpers as he starts to speed up, pleasure shooting up her spine. 

“Im-” Y/N gasps as his hips sped up, she felt the knot in her stomach starting to build up. Her walls clench around him, signaling she was close. “Cum baby, I know you want to,” Olly growls. And as if it was on cue, you came. Your back arching as your walls spasmed around him. He thrusts a few more times, cumming into you also. His body falls limp on top of yours right after pulling out, wrapping his arms around you as he buries his head into your neck.

[ghosttotheparty]

pretty girls never light their own cigarettes

inspired by this post by @background-noise-headache <3 also on AO3

Dungeons and Dragons takes place in Steve Harrington’s dining room.

Eddie sits at the head of the table, though “sitting” may not be the most accurate term to use; he ends up almost standing in his chair, crouching as he reads dramatically, his voice shifting from rough and gravelly and low to high and squeaky and soft as he shifts between characters.

Steve occasionally pops in and out of the room, bringing the kids soda and juice and chips, bringing Eddie beer. Eddie tries his best not to gaze. Steve gives him the same kind of looks back. They always do that.

Eddie isn’t entirely sure what this is, this thing between them. But he doesn’t mind not knowing. It’s soft, and quiet, and slow in a way that nothing else in Eddie’s life has ever been. Patient, and kind.

They haven’t talk about it. They don’t really need to. Everything is wordless. It started when Eddie woke up in the hospital to find Steve asleep next to him, holding his hand, his head in Eddie’s lap. He’d waited for Steve to wake up, playing with his hair.

And it continued in the same silence. Little sneaking glances at each other while they hang out with the others, hooked fingers under tables, Eddie’s head resting on Steve’s shoulder during movie night, Steve’s hand on Eddie’s leg. Eddie hugging Steve’s arm as he drifts off.

Steve quietly putting ointment on Eddie’s wounds, and later, oil on his scars. Eddie doing the same for him. Them getting high together and Steve tracing the scars around Eddie’s neck, and Eddie reaching up to trace his. Falling asleep in Steve’s arms, to the sound of his heartbeat and the feeling of his fingers in Eddie’s curls. Waking up to the smell of coffee.

“Alright,” Eddie says after a while, shifting to collapse into his seat, sighing. “Break time.”

“Oh, good, I have to pee,” Lucas huffs, moving to stand.

“I figured, you’ve had like five sodas.”

“Three.”

“Whatever, man. I’m going for a smoke.”

“Gross,” Will says loudly as he’s stretching, taking off his wizard hat. Eddie sticks his tongue out at him.

It’s chilly out, just cold enough that in the light of the outdoor lights, against the darkness of the sky and woods, he can see his breath as he hops up onto the railing of the porch and pulls the carton of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket.

The door opens behind him as he’s lighting up, and he turns to find Steve stepping out.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Eddie says around the cigarette, inhaling and watching Steve join him, leaning against the railing. “How you doing?”

“Fine,” Steve says, looking at him. Eddie moves so he’s straddling the railing, carefully balancing, so he’s facing Steve.

He watches as Steve lifts a cigarette to his lips, holding up a lighter, but he makes a small noise of protest, and Steve looks at him, pausing and raising an eyebrow.

Eddie sticks his cigarette back between his lips and moves closer, holding up his own lighter, flicking it, and he leans forward, holding the flame to Steve’s cigarette. The flame reflects in Steve’s glasses.

“Pretty girls never light their own cigarettes,” Eddie murmurs, focusing until he pulls the lighter away, his eyes raising to Steve’s, but Steve isn’t looking at him.

His eyes are blank, training on the ground below them, the cigarette hanging from his lips, and Eddie tilts his head.

“…Steve?” Steve blinks, his eyes flicking to meet Eddie’s, and for a moment Eddie thinks he’s going to cry. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve mumbles around the cigarette before he seems to remember that it’s there, and he takes a long drag before pulling it away and blowing the smoke into the air. “Fine.”

“…You sure?” Eddie asks, studying him, the way his eyes are shining, the way he’s avoiding Eddie’s gaze, the way he’s smoking quietly, like he’s trying to hide in plain sight. “Steve,” he says softly. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“I just…”

Eddie moves closer, holding his cigarette between his lips, until he can touch Steve’s forearm that’s resting on the railing.

“What happened?” Eddie asks softly after exhaling the smoke. “Should I not say stuff like that?”

Steve swallows, staring at the ground, his lips pursed like he’s trying not to cry before he takes a soft breath.

“I don’t… want you to not say it,” he says so quietly Eddie’s almost straining to hear him. “I want you to mean it.”

Eddie blinks in confusion.

“Mean it?”

Steve takes another drag, looking at Eddie as he exhales slowly before he starts to speak again nervously, but he can’t get any words out before there’s a bang behind them. They both startle and turn around to find Dustin sliding the door open.

“Dude, we’re ready to go,” he says to Eddie. “Come on.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Eddie dismisses, shooing him, and Dustin rolls his eyes, shutting the door again before he walks away. Eddie watches him go, waits until he can’t see out the door, then looks back at Steve.

Who looks like he might start crying. He’s looking at the burning end of his cigarette, watching the smoke drift into the air and disappear. His hands are shaking.

“Stevie,” Eddie says gently, touching his arm again and leaning close, concern bundling in his chest. “What’s going on?”

Steve bites his lip so hard it goes pale before he looks back at Eddie, his eyes shining.

“Can we…” He glances at the door. “Can we talk about this later?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says softly, brushing his thumb back and forth over Steve’s skin. It’s warm. “Yeah, of course.” Steve nods, looking ahead again, lifting the cigarette to his lips. “I’m gonna go in. We can hang out after all the kids go home, okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes.

Eddie stubs out his cigarette on the railing, leans over Steve’s arms to flick it into the ashtray, and then he pauses, looking at Steve’s face.

Then he’s leaning in and pressing his lips to his temple softly, leaving a tentative kiss on him. When he pulls away, Steve is almost smiling, his face softer, and he tilts his head a little bit, turning his cheek up to Eddie, so Eddie leans in and kisses him again.

He’s wanted to do that for a long time.

“Okay?” Eddie says quietly, almost whispering. Steve nods.

“Okay.”

It takes ages for the kids to leave. (Though kids is generous; they’re all pushing nineteen.) Lucas drove himself, Erica, and Dustin, and Will drove himself and Mike, and when Eddie says he’s staying behind because he drank, Will very kindly offers to take him home.

Eddie denies the offer gently. He has a soft spot for the kid, who seems to see the way Eddie glances up at Steve as he’s cleaning up with the others, and doesn’t offer again. (He does also seem a bit relieved. Eddie would be lying if he said he didn’t see the way Will and Mike look at each other. The way Mike puts his arm across Will’s shoulders as they head to the car. The way Will smiles at him with sparkling eyes.)

Eddie helps Steve clean up after the kids leave, after Lucas calls back a soft thank you to Steve for letting them take over the dining room. He rinses soda and beer cans in the sink and Steve collects them before dumping them in the recycling bin across the kitchen in silence.

“Living room?” Eddie asks when they’re done, drying his hands.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

Steve take a deep breath, visibly anxious, and Eddie’s chest aches.

He watches Steve curls up on the sofa like he’s trying to hide himself from Eddie, who sits close but not too close.

“So.”

“So,” Steve repeats quietly, looking at the ground.

“Hey,” Eddie says softly, leaning closer, and Steve’s eyes cut up to him shyly. “You don’t… You don’t have to talk about it. Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

“No, I wanna tell you, I just…” Steve takes a breath, looking back at the floor. “I don’t know… how to say it.”

“‘S okay,” Eddie says.

Steve swallows thickly, tilting his head back and blinking hard.

“I told myself I was never gonna tell anyone,” he says, his voice wobbling, and Eddie frowns. “I was just gonna… leave it all tangled in my chest until I died.”

“Steve…” Eddie breathes. He swallows. “That doesn’t sound very healthy.”

Steve cracks a smile.

“Yeah. I know.”

Eddie gazes at him for a few more moments.

“Do you want me to— to hold your hand? While you tell me?”

“Yes, please,” Steve says, his voice breathless, and he finally unwraps himself, holding a hand out to Eddie, who takes it gently with both of his. He rubs the back of it gently, looking down and looking at the soft lines of his veins beneath his skin, at his knuckles, at the faint scar near his thumb. Without thinking, he lifts it to his lips and kisses his skin gently.

“Talk to me, Stevie.”

Steve takes a shaky breath, his hand tightening on Eddie’s.

“When you… When you said that thing about— When you called me a pretty girl,” Steve stutters brokenly, his voice trembling. Eddie squeezes his hand. Rubs his thumb over the back of it. “I— I really liked it.”

Oh.

Eddie tilts his head, moving closer.

“Steve, if it, like, turned you on, that’s—”

“It didn’t—“ Steve interrupts weakly, his cheeks pink. “It didn’t… just turn me on.”

“…Okay,” Eddie says softly. “Tell me.”

Steve take a sharp breath, squeezing his eyes shut, and his hand is shaking so badly Eddie clutches it to himself.

“Stevie, it’s okay.”

“You can’t tell anyone,” Steve says abruptly, looking at Eddie with wide, tear-filled eyes.

“Never.” One of his hands releases Steve’s, and he’s reaching up to Steve’s cheek, holding him gently. “Whatever this is, it’s just us, okay?”

“Promise?” Steve gasps, a tear falling form his eye, and Eddie wipes it away tenderly.

“I swear to you, Stevie,” he says softly. “It’s just us.”

“Okay.”

He closes his eyes, taking an unsteady breath.

“It’s okay,” Eddie whispers, kissing his hand again.

“Sometimes I…” Steve starts quietly. He’s kind of facing Eddie now, his legs drawn to his chest and leaning in Eddies direction. His other hand is picking at a fold of his sweatpants, still trembling. “Sometimes I don’t… feel like I’m…”

He trails off, his eyes trained on the ground, and he looks like he’s spacing out, his eyes glazing over slightly. Eddie squeezes his hand, letting go of his face to turn over his hand and hold it tightly, almost massaging his palm.

“Like you’re what?” he prompts when Steve doesn’t finish his sentence after a minute. Steve inhales.

“Entirely… a guy?”

Eddie blinks, still squeezing his hand.

“Okay,” he says. “Can you explain that for me?”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut, shrugging weakly.

“‘S just…” He opens his eyes, wiping away a tear and squeezing Eddie’s hand. “When I was little,” he says after clearing his throat, still avoiding Eddie’s eyes. “I didn’t really, like… realise there was a different between boys and girls. I just didn’t get it.”

Eddie listens intently, rubbing Steve’s hand to keep him steady, to keep him present.

“There was one year, that my—“ He cuts off to swallow, and he shifts before continuing, his voice soft. “My dad went away for a while. And my mom didn’t really give a shit about me, so she let me grow my hair out. And one day I was helping her at a store, and an employee told me that I… I was a good daughter for helping my mom.”

He pauses, and Eddie tilts his head. Steve pulls at his hand, tugging him closer and moving so he’s holding onto Eddie’s forearm. His other hand is picking at his lip, and Eddie reaches out and gently pulls it away before he can make himself bleed.

“I didn’t correct her,” Steve continues. “Because it didn’t— It didn’t feel wrong, it— it felt like it fit.”

Eddie nods, twisting his hand to hold Steve’s forearm, squeezing gently.

“But it doesn’t— It doesn’t fit more than when someone calls me dude or anything, like— They both make sense to me.”

“Okay,” Eddie says softly. Steve glances at him.

“But sometimes I— I feel more, like… Jesus, I don’t know. Girly?” His cheeks flush with colour, and he drops his head back. “I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Eddie says again, rubbing his arm soothingly.

“Sometimes I…” Steve squeezes his eyes shut, his lip quivering, and Eddie moves closer, his chest aching.

“Hey,” he whispers, squeezing his arm. “Steve, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Eddie,” Steve says, and he’s actually crying now, tears falling down his cheeks, and Eddie hates this.

“It is,” he says gently, moving closer and wrapping an arm around Steve’s shoulders, pulling him close. Steve collapses against him, his shoulders shaking. “Stevie, I’m not judging you or anything, okay? Just talk to me, sweetheart.”

He wants to smack himself for the pet name, but Steve doesn’t seem to even notice it.

“Sometimes,” Steve starts again, his voice quiet. “Sometimes I feel like I am a girl.” He doesn’t lift his head, still leaning against Eddie, who rests his cheek on Steve’s head. “Just… In the wrong body.”

“You’re not in the wrong body, Stevie,” Eddie says. “If you’re a girl, you have a girl’s body.”

Steve is quiet for a moment before he says, “Why are you acting like this is all fine?” He sits up, looking at Eddie with tears-filled eyes. “This isn’t fine, Eddie, I’m— I’m fucking weird.”

“Steve,” Eddie says firmly. He softens when a tear escapes Steve’s eye, and he reaches up to wipe it away, his thumb slipping under his glasses. “You’re not weird. And even if you were, Stevie, do you know who I am?” Steve finally cracks a smile, scoffing. “Why would I have a problem with weird?”

Steve shrugs weakly.

“Also you’re not the only one,” Eddie says softly, touching his hair. It’s soft. Steve looks at him almost sceptically, wiping his cheek. “I used to go to a lot of queer bars and clubs and stuff in Indy,” Eddie explains. “There were lots of people like you.”

“Really?” Steve breathes.

“Yeah,” Eddie says softly, smiling. “I’ll take you sometime.”

“…Okay.”

“So you said you feel like both?” Eddie says, shifting to lean against the back of the sofa, his fingers still playing with the ends of Steve’s hair.

“Yeah.” Steve sniffs, wiping his face again. “I don’t mind being called a guy, or when people use like… You know, dude and man and stuff. It feels right, but when that lady thought I was a girl, it… felt right too.”

“What can I do?” Eddie asks. “To make you feel good about it?”

Steve shrugs again, looking down.

“I don’t know. When we’re alone, I guess you could…”

He shrugs again, shaking his head.

“What if I called you things?” Eddie suggests gently. “I could tell you how pretty you are.”

Steve’s cheeks flush and he half-smiles, almost glaring at Eddie.

“Don’t joke,” he says quietly.

“I’m not,” Eddie says, offended, moving closer, his hand sliding to hold Steve’s neck. “You’re beautiful, Stevie.”

Steve’s eyes drift, shining behind his glasses, and he inhales.

“…I like it when you call me that.”

“Stevie?”

“Yeah. It feels… Prettier.”

Eddie beams, pressing his fingers into his hair and combing through it.

“What else can I call you?”

“I don’t know,” Steve says, shifting to face Eddie, still holding Eddie’s hand. “You pick.”

Eddie hums softly, glancing at Steve’s lips. (He briefly wonders if Steve would ever wear lipgloss.)

“Princess.”

Steve’s cheeks turn pink, and he suppresses a smile.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks gleefully, grinning, and Steve’s cheeks darken. He looks away.

“Feel like I shouldn’t like that.”

“Hey.” Eddie tugs his hand. “No rules.“ He tugs again, prompting Steve to look up at him before he speaks again, softer. “This is just us, Stevie.”

Steve looks back at him, and Eddie can practically see the moment it sets in. That he’s safe here. That he’s free.

“I like it.”

Eddie smiles.

“What about, like, when we go to a queer place?” Eddie asks, moving to lift a leg onto the sofa between them, leaning against the back of it again. “If I introduce you to people, how should I refer to you?”

“What do you mean?” Steve asks quietly, his brows furrowed.

“…He, she?”

Steve blinks, and Eddie sees something settle behind his eyes.

“I’ve never thought about that.”

Eddie waits while Steve thinks, playing with his hair.

“I think he,” he says quietly. “She feels… I don’t know. Maybe I’m just not used to it,” he says, looking into Eddie’s eyes. “I don’t know.”

“We can try it out,” Eddie tells him. “When we go. We can just… experiment. See what you like, what’s comfortable.”

“Okay,” Steve says, smiling, his eyes flicking across Eddie’s face. “You called me sweetheart earlier. I liked that.”

“Yeah?” Steve nods. “What else can I call you?”

Steve shrugs, shifting closer.

“What do you wanna call me?”

“A lot of things,” Eddie confesses, blushing.

“Like what?” Steve asks, smiling excitedly, shifting where he sits, almost bouncing on the sofa, and Eddie’s heart almost explodes.

“Honey,” Eddie says softly, his hand running down Steve’s neck. “Darling. Baby.”

Steve’s eyes darken and flick down Eddie’s face again, and he exhales.

“My love,” Eddie says quietly after a few moments of silence. Steve’s eyes widen. “Is that one okay?”

Steve’s lips part, and his eyes are trained on Eddie’s mouth, and he’s quiet for a few seconds, just staring before he says softly, “Only if you mean it.”

“I mean it,” Eddie breathes.

Steve takes a breath, and then his tongue is slipping across his lip.

“I wanna try something.”

“Okay.”

Steve takes another breath, exhaling slowly, and he releases Eddie’s hand, carefully reaching up to his face, and Eddie thinks he might be dying. Steve’s fingers are warm, pressing into Eddie’s skin and holding his chin gently.

Slowly, Steve leans in, and Eddie’s eyes fall shut, his free hand finding Steve’s leg.

After a few seconds, Steve’s lips find Eddie’s, and the world falls away from around them, and Eddie’s eyes squeeze shut, and he never wants this moment to end.

His lips part to kiss back, but Steve’s teeth just close on his lower lip, tugging Eddie closer with it, and Eddie smiles, his hand sliding to Steve’s hip and squeezing. Steve moves closer, and his other hand finds Eddie’s cheek as he sucks on his lip gently, shifting closer.

Eddie gasps when they part, his hand untangling from Steve’s hair and finding Steve’s cheek, but he bumps the frames of his glasses, and Steve laughs breathlessly.

“Can I take these off?” Eddie whispers.

“Yeah.”

Eddie reaches up and carefully takes them, tilting his head to make sure he doesn’t tug the backs of his ears, and Steve smiles fondly as he waits. Eddie turns away to fold them and place them on the coffee table before he looks back at Steve, whose eyes are shining as they struggle to focus.

“Can you kiss me please?” Steve whispers, and Eddie grins so brightly it almost hurts.

He takes Steve’s face between his hands, leaning in and kissing him tenderly, warmth flooding through his body when Steve buries his hands in Eddie’s hair. Eddie shivers when he tugs, and he shivers again when a soft sound escapes Steve.

Without pulling away, Steve sits up, kneeling next to Eddie before he’s swinging a leg over Eddie’s legs and settling in his lap. Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s middle, holding him to himself tightly and furrowing his brows when Steve’s tongue slips across Eddie’s lip.

Steve tugs his hair again, pulling away just to gasp for air before he leans back in, kissing Eddie messily, almost careless in the way his lips slide across Eddie’s, in the way he licks into his mouth. He tastes like cigarettes and orange soda.

Eddie suppresses more shivers as he listens to the quiet, wet sounds of them kissing, to Steve’s soft breaths, as Steve’s fingertips trail down his throat lightly.

“Stevie,” Eddie gasps when they part to breathe, pressing his hands into the small of his back.

“Yeah, baby,” Steve says softly, breathing hard. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, the pet name washing over him like sunlight.

“…Can you take this off?” he asks hesitantly, tugging at the back of Steve’s shirt and looking up at him. Steve just smiles and leans back, crossing his arms pulling his shirt up from the hem. He tosses it away when it’s off, giggling when he looks back down at Eddie, who’s staring up at him like he’s having a religious experience, like Steve is his saviour.

“What?” Steve whispers.

Eddie’s eyes are burning, and he reaches up to tug him down by the back of his neck, kissing him as tenderly as possible.

“You’re so beautiful, babygirl.”

Steve blushes, and his eyes widen, and he exhales.

“Oh, I like that,” he says softly.

“Yeah?”

Steve just nods breathlessly, and Eddie kisses him again. He pulls away to press soft kisses across his cheek and over his jaw before he’s sucking kisses into his neck, his hands sliding over his back.

Steve exhales, his head falling back as Eddie kisses over his throat, and his hands find Eddie’s shoulders, holding him gently.

Eddie nibbles at his skin softly, listening as Steve hums quietly, and he smiles against his skin, leaning small bites down his neck until he’s kissing the moles on his shoulders and collarbones, connecting them like constellations with his lips.

Steve pushes his fingers into Eddie’s hair when he starts to kiss his chest, and Eddie smiles again. Steve’s chest hair is tickling his face, and he’s heavy on Eddie’s lap, and he’s playing with Eddie’s hair, and Eddie thinks he might cry, blissfully surrounded by StevieStevieStevieStevieStevie.

He runs his hands over Steve’s back, over his waist and hips and chest, until his fingers brush over his nipples, and Steve lets out a sharp breath.

“Is that okay?” Eddie whispers, looking up at him. His cheeks are red, and his eyes are closed, he releases his lip from between his teeth to speak.

“Yes.”

Eddie does it again, traces circles around them and gazes up at Steve, who bites his lip again, sighing and letting his head fall back again.

Eddie smiles softly. He leans in and presses his lips to Steve’s chest, just over his heart, before he shifts, leaning to swipe his tongue over one side, and Steve’s hand clenches in his hair. He pushes his chest toward Eddie with a soft noise, and Eddie grins, licking over it again as he reaches up to the other side.

Steve sighs, looking down at Eddie and smiling lazily when their eyes meet. Eddie sucks lightly, watching Steve’s eyes flutter shut, and Steve’s fingers run through his hair before he just holds him, almost cradling the back of his head and sliding his other hand over Eddie’s forearm.

Eddie pulls away after a moment, taking a breath and switching sides, and Steve giggles quietly, pulling his hair back and watching him. They’re both hard. But neither of them are in any rush to do anything about it.

Eddie lifts his head after another moment, kissing up Steve’s chest, kissing the hallow of his throat, his Adam’s apple, the underside of his chin. Steve is smiling the whole time, his face relaxed and soft and almost blissful.

“Christ,” Eddie breathes, running his hands over Steve’s chest and stomach and waist, squeezing a the softness of his flesh, holding him tightly. Touching the scars that cover his sides, the scars that match Eddie’s own. “You’re fucking angelic, baby.”

Steve huffs out a soft laugh, pressing his hands to Eddie’s face before he holds his chin lightly, his thumb pressing to Eddie’s bottom lip. His eyes are dark, almost half shut, and he brushes his thumb over Eddie’s lip, smiling when Eddie presses a quick kiss to it.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

“What for?” Eddie matches his volume, almost whispering. Steve shrugs weakly. Eddie presses his hand against the small of his back, running over the arch of it.

“Being so nice to me.”

Eddie blinks, tugging at his back so he falls against him a bit.

“You don’t have to thank me for that, princess,” he says softly, squeezing his waist. “Kindness comes with love.”

Steve just stares back at him, and after a moment, his eyes are glistening, and his lip is trembling, and Eddie’s chest aches. Because he knows Steve has never gotten the kindness he deserves, because when he was a kid, love meant slamming doors and snapping leather belts and cold glares when he cried.

Steve looks away when a tear escapes his eye, reaching to wipe it away, but Eddie stops him, catching his hand gently and pulling at him so he looks back at him. Steve blinks at him, more tears falling down his cheeks, and Eddie touches his face, holding his jaw and leaning up to kiss his tears away. They’re salty on his lips, but Steve is sweet. So, so sweet.

“Sweet girl,” Eddie breathes, kissing Steve’s lips gently, and Steve pulls him closer, kissing him harder, burying his hands in Eddie’s curls again. Eddie knows Steve can taste his tears. There’s probably something poignant about that, Steve licking his own tears off Eddie’s lips, but Eddie’s head is too full of clouds to really place what it is that’s so poetic.

“Love you,” Steve exhales, his lips brushing Eddie’s, and Eddie breathes the words in.

“I love you too, baby,” he whispers, his eyes squeezing shut. “Jesus, I love you too.”

Steve wraps his arms around Eddie’s neck, and Eddie’s face presses into his bare shoulder as he hugs him back, his fingers dancing over his spine, over the softness above the waistband of his sweatpants. Steve’s lips find Eddie’s ear, and Eddie beams, tilting his head to give him space.

Steve traces the tip of his tongue over the scar on Eddie’s neck, and suddenly the world is crashing down around him. Eddie gasps for breath, his hands pressing against Steve’s back, his nails dragging across his skin as Eddie pants, his eyes screwing shut.

“Fuck, Stevie.”

“Is that okay?” Steve whispers. His breath is warm.

“Yeah, it feels good,” Eddie says breathlessly.

“Okay.”

Steve relaxes, resting on Eddie and pressing his face into his neck. Eddie thinks he might be about to fall asleep, but then Steve is pressing slow, wet kisses to his neck, and he’s biting him and sucking on his skin, and it almost hurts, but Eddie would rather walk into traffic than stop him.

Eddie falls against the back of the sofa, pulling Steve with him, and he bites his lip, exhaling shakily.

“Love you,” Steve breathes, kissing his neck again. “Love you so much.”

Eddie groans softly, reaching a hand up to Steve’s hair and pulling so he can kiss him.

“Love you too, babygirl,” he murmurs. “So fucking much.”

Steve whimpers, and Eddie knows he’s crying because he can hear his soft breaths, can feel them on his neck and can feel his tears sliding down his skin.

“It’s okay, Stevie,” he whispers, hugging him tightly, rocking forward and guiding Steve’s legs to wrap around his waist until Steve is clinging to him. “I got you, baby.”

“God, Eddie.”

“‘S okay.”

“‘S okay,” Steve repeats quietly, under his breath, pulling and resting his forehead on Eddie’s. Eddie reaches up to wipe away his tears. “Can you— Can you sleep in my bed tonight?”

“Yes,” Eddie says. “Yes, of course, I would love to.”

“Okay,” Steve says with a weak smile, leaning down to kiss him lazily. Eddie can still taste the salt of his tears.

“You wanna go to bed, sweetheart?”

Steve mumbles something unintelligible, his arms tightening around Eddie, and he buries his face in his neck. Eddie smiles, sighing, rubbing his back gently before he shifts, moving to the edge of the sofa, reaching to get Steve’s glasses, and he grips Steve’s legs as he stands. Steve lets out a quiet Mm, and his legs tighten around him.

“I got you,” Eddie murmurs, looking over Steve’s shoulder and making his way to the stairs.

“You’re so hot,” Steve mumbles. Eddie laughs lightly.

It’s dark upstairs, and the floor creaks under their weight as Eddie carries him to his room, grateful for the dim light of the downstairs hallway that sends a soft glow over the walls.

“Lay on top of me,” Steve says quietly when Eddie goes to set him down. “Please.”

“Let me turn off the lights, honey.”

“Okay.”

He sets the glasses on the bedside table, flicking the lamp on before he crosses the room to the light switch. When he turns back around, Steve is looking, watching him blearily.

“Can you take off your shirt?” Steve asks softly, shyly. Eddie grins and tugs his shirt off, tossing it to the hamper in the corner of the room. He misses. He doesn’t care.

Steve sighs heavily when Eddie crawls over him, tugging his blankets over himself and relaxing on top of Steve. Steve’s arms wrap around Eddie’s neck again, tracing the bumps of his spine, pushing into his hair.

Eddie hums, closing his eyes, relishing the feeling of Steve’s skin on his, the feeling of Steve’s heartbeat against his chest.

“I’ve never felt like this before,” Steve whispers after a moment.

“How do you feel, baby?” Eddie whispers back. Steve runs his fingers through his hair, through snags and tangles. Gentle.

“I feel…” He takes a deep breath. His chest presses to Eddie’s. “God, I feel like myself, Eddie. I’ve never felt like myself before.”

Eddie smiles, and sits up, hovering over Steve and looking at his face. He’s never seen this expression on Steve before. Soft and relaxed and sated. Fucking beautiful.

He leans down and kisses him gently, sucking on his lip briefly before he pulls away to whisper to him.

“You never have to hide yourself from me. Okay?” Steve’s eyes flutter open, shining in the soft golden light of the lamp. “Anything that makes you feel like you, or that you want me to do to make you feel like you, I… It’s all okay.”

“Okay,” Steve breathes.

“I’m in love with you,” Eddie says, his voice shaking. “Every fucking part of you.”

Steve swallows, giving him a wobbly smile.

“…Okay.”

“Okay.”

Eddie lays back down again, turn his head to kiss under Steve’s ear.

“Good night, my love.”

Steve’s arms tighten around Eddie, and Eddie grins.

[wrinklemcdinkle]

i havent seen anyone mention this yet so i will

i 100% believe ollie and captain price are brothers

especially with what was mentioned in episode 113, and how in episode 97 ollie’s mom said his father and brother are pirates (i dont remember specific wording but i think both were mentioned)

we havent heard any other mention of ollie’s brother, so if its not captain price then this brother will be a mystery until they decide to investigate further but if it is him.

Also grizzly said price looked about 13 years old in that picture, which was definitely sometime before the Hole in the Sea but not sure how far back. The mom was also pregnant in the picture, which could be ollie, who was 12 years old when the Riptide Pirates met him, so he’d be about 2 years old when the Hole in the Sea occurred. So unless we know the specific date when the picture was taken then its plausible to assume ollie could’ve been the next child captian rose had.

I really want to see those 2 meet now, just to see what happens

Am i crazy for this?

[lesbianspeedy]

top 5 funniest mia moments in no particular order

saying jason has a history of surviving getting blown up

calling dinah "big bird"

her response to their house being blown up being "thats wild"

being homophobic to the entire population of themyscira

calling a magical demon from hell a ho while shooting it

[sparfloxacin]

hellooo today I am thinking about:

this because what the hell was this 😭 still no idea what they were doing and WHY 😫 (also proudly ignoring Niko there)

and

this because I’ll NEVER get over this and this might be the cutest thing they’ve ever done 🤧🥺💞

[theflyingfeeling]

I hope everyone's having a nice Sunday, and if not, I hope I can make it more less terrible with the third chapter for my fic let me down slowly, now on AO3 ✨

again, huge thanks to anyone who's been reading this 🥺 the final chapter will be up at some point next week

[bubblellop]

The good the bad and the angsty

(Fave oc + New oc + Old oc)

AHA I waasnt joking when i said i wanted to do an october prompt challenge , I am .very busy tho so my compromise is to combine some prompts and skip others (</3) so I dont stress myself out and finish this on .december

ANYWAY starting great by combining the three first prompts! You can guess which one is which ^^

[aliferous-ly]

I didn't get in to the ranchers zine :(

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Gremlinverse

(Brief warning for mention of Past Samos being ignorant bordering on ableist -- early 2000s writing really did not do him any favors -- and getting walloped for it)

The drive across the desert had not been a silent one. Between Tess pointing out every animal they saw to Mar, and Daxter trying to convince Sig that he knew how to drive and should totally get a turn at the wheel, Damas was amazed he could hear himself think. One of the little ones stood up in his periphery, sending a little spike of panic through him. Before the child could either topple over the side or get his sticky fingers on the gear shift, Damas scooped him up on instinct and set him on his knee.

Belatedly, he realized it was not the Mar he'd assumed it was.

"Ah-" Damas cringed. "Sorry, wrong kid."

He let go and Jak quickly slid down into the space beside him.

"We'll pretend that didn't happen," Jak answered.

"Agreed."

Jak cleared his throat of embarrassment. "Tess has Mar pretty well trapped back there, anyway. He's not getting out of his seat."

Damas raised a brow. "You got out of yours."

"So?"

"So Mar is you, and you are Mar." Damas glanced back at his toddler with suspicion. "Now that he's seen you do it, it's only a matter of time before he figures it out."

Jak looked like he was going to deny this, but then he made a conciliatory face.

"Okay, yeah, he kind of is an escape artist. You'd think he wouldn't be able to get that far on stubby little legs, and yet."

"And yet," Damas agreed. He paused, and leaned back to study Jak’s face.

"Do you have a scar under your left eyebrow?"

"That," said Jak, "is weirdly specific. Why?"

"Mar's first Escape was launching himself out of his cradle at ten months old," Damas said with a grimace. "Predictably, he landed square on his head and screamed bloody murder."

He puffed out his cheeks and shook his head.

"Scared me half to death."

Jak touched two fingers to the place on his forehead where the eyebrow grew unevenly.

"Do you think the Before Damas was scared, too?"

Damas looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well," he said slowly, "if I am him, and he was me, then I'd say he must have been."

Jak peered out at the dunes around him and casually remarked, "One time back in Sandover Samos asked if I didn't talk because I got a head injury, and the fisherman boxed his ears real hard."

"As well he should have!" Damas growled. "Idiot sage. Didn't he know how to recognize a different dialect of signing?!"

Jak shrugged. "For once, he wasn't trying to be mean, that's the funny part. He was trying to figure out where the scar came from and he let that slip."

The boy gave a grim smile wholly out of place on such a young face.

"Boy, he never did that again. He found something new to belittle me about every week, but when it came to me not using my voice, he learned to keep his big mouth shut."

"I think," said Damas, "I think I would have liked to meet that fisherman."

"His name was Ollie." The grim look softened into a more nostalgic one. "He was one of the only ones who was always nice to Daxter. He'd offered Dax a place under his roof a couple times, but Ollie also had breath that could kill plants at short range. Probably because of the fish he ate raw. He didn't believe in cookstoves."

Damas thought of Kleiver, who had similar thoughts on oral hygiene. He made a face.

"That doesn't sound like an environment your friend would enjoy. He's quite serious about health and cleanliness, isn't he?"

"Well one of us has to be!" Daxter interrupted.

Jak turned around and stuck his tongue out at him.

"Oh, what are you, five?"

"Why don't you come down here and say that to my face, huh, Bigfoot?"

Sig rolled his eye. "Do I need to separate you two?"

Both boys paused and looked confused.

"Why?" asked Daxter, "This is normal!"

"Yeah," Jak added, "I get two years of payback for him always callin' me Bigfoot, and he gets to make short jokes. Fair is fair."

Sig cringed, and Damas fixed him with a look.

"Your impudent past has come calling," he said dryly.

"Oh, so when they're being goblins it's my impudent past, right." Sig shook his head and swerved around a tight cluster of desert sheoak trees.

"I could say something about that, y'know."

"You could, but you won't."

"Won't I?" Now Sig had a smug little grin on, one that matched Daxter too well to mean anything but mischief.

Surprisingly, Damas matched the challenging tone with a wry smile of his own.

"No indeed, you will not. Because that would entail admitting to certain exploits we both agreed never to mention again."

The buggy slowed, and Sig leaned an elbow on the console. "What, this isn't you mentioning it right now?"

The wry grin widened into a crocadog smile. "Keep pushing, you'll find out."

Tess giggled and shifted little Mar on her lap. "Uh-oh, it's double trouble!" she joked.

Mar wrinkled his nose and looked baffled. "What's funny?" he asked, "Are they fightin'?"

Tess wasn't fluent yet in reproducing the signing dialect the boys used, but practicing with Daxter got her far enough to understand most of the things Mar said.

"Just pretend fighting, the same way Jak and Daxxie do," she reassured him, "See? They're smiling! They're doing that silly grown-up thing where we have to see who can look the most serious while playing."

Mar relaxed. "Jak-jak is good at that game!" he observed innocently.

Then he perked up and pointed to a glow on the horizon.

"Look look!"

Damas looked back, and his whole face softened when he saw the excited gleam in Mar's eyes.

"You see the Lighthouse?" he asked.

"Almost home!" Mar answered, hands animated enough to be a shout.

"Almost home!" Damas echoed aloud. "Are you ready to see Mommy?"

"Mmm-a!" Mar croaked, flinging his arms into the air.

Jak turned around to lean over the back of the seat, pillowing his cheek on his arms.

"What's she like, anyway?"

Mar blinked, stumped. What kind of question was that? Mommy was, well, Mommy! Didn't Jak-jak remember?

"She goes swimming, and paints stuff," he said confidently, "And she likes sandwiches."

Damas turned his head quickly to disguise a snort of laughter as a cough. Of all the things to remember-!

Phobos didn't actually like sandwiches all that much. But as a two year old, it was the only food Mar could be trusted to handle on his own. He had made "sandwiches" for his mother to take onto her boat with her often enough for it to stick in his memory, clearly. And Phobos, of course, didn't want to discourage his burgeoning kitchen endeavors, or his wholehearted gestures of affection. There had been more than one week where all Phobos had for breakfast was two pieces of flatbread with tomango paste and three pieces of cereal stuck to it.

The face that Tess made above Mar's head, a grimace aimed at Daxter, indicated that the young rebels had also sampled Mar's version of sandwiches at some point. Evidently his choice of ingredients had not improved in the two years he had been gone. Nevertheless, Damas had promised himself many times that he'd choke down any nasty sandwich his son offered if he only could see him again.

"Sandwiches?" Jak asked Mar, looking dubious. "Uh...okay, if you say so."

He slid back around to face the windshield.

"Probably shouldn't have asked the toddler," he muttered.

Sig grinned and shook his head. "Don't worry about it, cherry. She's...she's a lot like you, actually. No nonsense, loves exploring, used to climb everything, especially if you told her not to-"

"Hey!"

"Well you do, kid." Sig accelerated to cut across a sandbar in the middle of a lush, green, riverbank. Water splashed up, almost as high as the doors as he guided the vehicle through a shallow place in the Cacomiztli River.

"And so did she, when we were kids. Heh. She used to get my cousins into so much trouble."

"Yeah," Daxter said, finally dropping back into his own seat, "That sounds like Jak."

A pair of eyes appeared over the edge of the roll cage, narrowed at Daxter.

"Dax-" he warned.

Daxter, predictably, did not heed the warning whatsoever.

"Hey, Sig, ask Jak what he did on his ninth birthday."

Jak hissed for all the world like a caracal.

"Daxter, I swear by my tiny little hands, I will end you!"

"You can't reach," Daxter teased.

"Wanna bet?" Jak jumped up, about to launch himself at his friend's head.

"Hey!" Sig leaned out of the way of a small, sharp, elbow. "Park your carcass! I'm driving here!"

Damas hooked an arm around Jak’s middle and pulled him back down onto the center console he'd made his seat. That arm stayed across Jak's torso like a makeshift seatbelt, to the boy's exasperation.

"Next person to get out of their seat is washing the garages when we get home. You can go back to killing each other after we shut off the engine!"

He paused, then scoffed. "Ah. I've become that parent."

Having started out with only Mar, Damas had never anticipated becoming like the Wastelanders who had to spend half their oasis trips dealing with offspring practicing for their Arena trials on each other in the back of the buggy.

Tess cackled. "Oh Daxxie, your face! Don't worry, babe. I'd help you if you had to wash a garage. A little."

"I wouldn't," Mar added bluntly.

[themyscirah]

I love problematic women

[thequietabsolute]

hiya :3 did you ever post a picture of yourself? whenever I think of you, I think of your profile picture, but I fear I am wrong about that one haaha

Hello Ollie, nice to hear from you. yeah I’ve posted a few I think, not many. There’s one i posted over New Years with my girlfriend.

n.

👆is my personal posts tag 🏷️

i know what you mean about profile pictures; they sort of do the job in one’s mind as representative of that said person, don’t they. mine’s a still from one of my all time favourite films, Withnail and I.

I hope Sunday is being kind to you fella 🧣🌿

[wolfeyedwitch]

Masterlist

Charles watched them, noting they were much more considerate and refined whilst eating then the first time.

In general, he tried not to judge people for their manners, especially when knowing they came from quite unfortunate backgrounds, but sometimes the snobbishness still reared its ugly head.

But that was an issue to unpack and fix later in therapy. Right now, his vampire guest (was the that right term to think of them as?) needed to be attended to and informed.

"Wonderful, now that is done for, we can move forward. Dear, I would like to show you around my home later today, if that is alright. Please, gather your strength first and then I shall come fetch you in a few hours. Do you have any questions?"

The vampire thought for a moment. He hadn't been angry the day before, when it had asked about his muse. And he had asked, after all. So asking one of its own questions seemed safe enough. Of course it had questions; the better question was, what questions should it ask? What could it ask?

It repeated the gestures it had used the day before to ask about the other pet, the muse, Ollie. It gestured to itself, to him, and gestured to the space where another person would be.

It hoped its owner would understand what it couldn't say.

Will Ollie be coming along?

It didn't know which option would be more stressful.