#so all varis had was ‘well your dad was cooler so’

[potassium-pilot]

i got reminded of the scene in post-stormblood with varis and the alliance and it reminds me of this comic every time i think about it

[thecameronchronicles]

Rumors

TW: SEVERE angst. Arguing. Mentions of cheating. Wink of smut.

SUMMARY: Your boyfriend, Pope, finds it difficult to deny Rafe’s claim you slept with him at the mention of a particular birthmark in a place reserved for your significant other’s eyes only. 

WORD COUNT:

*Requested*

You and Pope Heyward were the epitome of the perfect relationship. You had the same goals and ambitions, respect and love for one another, and trust and compassion that led even the more heated of conversations to always be settled with understanding and forgiveness. It was rare that you were seen without one another as you basked in the chance to show each other off, not to mention support the other’s accomplishments in your multitude of academic accolades. Which was why when you received his phone call today where his voice was as dry as the sand beneath your feet, your heart dropped. Immediately, you tried to imagine what would be the cause of the most level-headed pogue to be so cold, especially to you. But as he had asked for you to come to the chateau, you obliged, and entered over the threshold, finding him wearing a look you’d never seen before. 

TWO HOURS PRIOR

“Aww why the long face?” Rafe taunted, offering a light slap to Pope’s cheek, that was quickly swept away before he continued, “Did she finally dump your ass?” Rafe teased, Pope having clenched his jaw, but knew that this was just the effect of the eldest Cameron; prime asshole. 

He had endured his presence all throughout high school so what was a few more weeks until the only time he would have to see him was through social events he was working such as these. But Pope wasn’t even able to focus on him if he wanted to as his mind fixated on the B minus received on one of the finals; a test he berated himself for not scoring higher on as he had studied well through the night. 

“Everyone knows she’s out of your league, you know…” He continued while Pope shoveled ice into the smaller coolers to transport the fish from the event back to his dad’s shop as Rafe was relentless. 

“I mean I thought after she got with me that she’d dump ya for sure-” Pope didn’t even bother to lift his eyes to his remark for a multitude of reasons, but the most defining having been that he trusted you. 

“Didn’t you hear me, Pope? I fucked your bitch-” To the way you were spoken of, Pope lifted his gaze. 

“She wouldn’t even talk to you let alone touch you-”

“Oh really?” Rafe now leaned closer to Pope. “Then how do I know about that mark right where her bikini sits…you know, the same spot that when you kiss her she makes that little squeal-”

“Fuck off, Rafe!” Pope was rarely a display of such emotion, for reasons such as the look cast at him by his father, one purposely incited by Rafe, who walked away as glib as always. 

But even if Pope convinced himself that Rafe was just being an ass, he couldn’t rationalize how he knew of that birthmark. A perfect little blemish on a place he believed was sacred for him. And it was enough to fester against him through the rest of the event until you had gotten that call. 

“I know….” The words left his lips as you sourced his expression for even a shred of a furthering explanation.

“What?” Your eyes narrowed as Sarah had entered behind you. 

“I just wanted to know why it was HIM?”

“What are you talking about? Who?” You now shared his sincerity as your heart and stomach twisted to see him so angry. 

“Rafe!” Sarah’s brows shot up in sharing your surprise as you had to suppress a laugh that would have emerged if not for Pope having stood up and thrown his hands in anger. 

“What about Rafe?”

“You cheated on me with him…Of all people-HIM?!”

“I would never!” You rose to your feet, quick to defend yourself, as tears brimmed in your eyes. “ESPECIALLY with Rafe!” 

You shot a quick look towards Sarah, “No offense-” But she would only cast her arms upwards in surrender as she whole-heartedly agreed for her own varied reasons. 

“Why would you even think that?!”

“He knows about your birthmark…How else could he when it’s-” He paused as JJ happened to enter, having done so when hearing the rise of voices as he ran his fingers through his hair. 

“You know what, I’ve fought it long enough, I WILL have a threesome with you, but I expect cuddling and-” He attempted to joke as he was ignored.

“How else could he know that? We’re done-” And to this, Sarah couldn’t help but interject. 

“Pope, he’s been perving on her since she wore a bikini at my house that first time…I’m sure that’s how he saw it-She would NEVER do that to you…She loves you-you guys are annoyingly cute and so in love…”

“I thought so too…But the things he said-”

By now the tears had escaped despite your attempts, not that you were able to make much of one as the guy you loved with your entire heart was breaking it due to his own insecurities and apparent irrefutable evidence made on unfounded ground. And it was what sent you storming out of the front door of The Chateau with your face buried in your hands as both JJ and Sarah shook their heads at him. 

“You fucked up…” JJ commented as Pope looked to the swinging door and then to Sarah, closing his eyes once realizing their words were true. There was nothing you and him wouldn’t do for one another, you were perfect and perfectly flawed in every way, fitting the broken pieces of your tribulations for the other person. This was why it hurt. For even a second that he could consider anything BUT your loyalty. 

You pressed your knees tightly into your chest as you looked out into the water, turning away from the footsteps as you didn’t care who it had been, you wanted to be alone. Unless it was Rafe, then you would want to drown him in the water set before you. 

“Babe, I-”

“How could you think that? For even a second?!” You sniffled, rising to your feet and glaring at him. 

“He just-God, you know how Rafe is-”

“Yeah I do! Which is why if I’d heard the same thing, I would have laughed off his attempts, not believed it!”

“I just…Shit, baby, I’m sorry, okay…I just…I think you’re too good for me and it scares the hell out of me that you’ll see that one day.”

“Too good?” To this, you would only shake your head, taking a single step towards him, and raising your finger against his chest. 

“You know, for someone who’s SO smart, you can be a real dumbass sometimes..” His eyes lowered in understanding as that was exactly how he’d felt which was why he couldn't disagree or even meet your gaze. 

“Do you think I’d throw away what we have for HIM-for anyone?! The way that my entire day is made when you smile at me and that no matter how bad my day is, just hearing your voices fixes it? That you push me to strive and be the best version of myself, even if that sometimes means being in competition with you, you still supported me…We planned our entire futures around each other and you thought that I’d throw that away-”

“I”m sorry…please…I’m so sorry, baby, I just-”

“And if you think I’m too good for you…I can’t fix that…I can try to tell you all the ways we’re even-but there are gonna be times where one of us excels over each other and fails worse than the other, that’s when we pick each other up, not tear each other further down. Which is what I thought we both knew!” Pope now collected your face between his palms. 

“You’re the greatest thing to ever happen to me. But the statistics say that you don’t marry your high school sweetheart so I think a part of me always waited for you to realize that-”

“For ONCE Pope, stop analyzing everything and just-” As if reading the continuation of your words in your mind instead of needing them spoken, he would take you into a passionate kiss. 

Mixed tears smeared by the reciprocation and continuation of this moment as his hands quickly fell along your hips and took you within his grip. Whatever doubt or uncertainty may have tainted the perfection of your relationship was now validated in the love collected behind this kiss. 

“I’m sorry…” He spoke in finality, resting his forehead against yours before brushing your remaining tears from your cheeks. 

“Then show me…” His brows furrowed for a second before you pulled him against the tree to where anyone within view from The Chateau would only be met with the trunk in opposition to the scene behind it. But as his fingers tried for his pants, finding the lust in your eyes to further what he believed you wanted, you stopped him. 

“Me.” You validated again as he moved onto his knees, withdrawing your shorts from your hips and licking his lips once finding you in only your swim bottoms. 

“I’m sorry, baby…I love you…” He kissed into your thighs while tugging the tie at your hip loose. 

“So much…” He spoke before leading his lips over that birthmark, kissing over its placement, and trailing further between your legs. His eyes rose to you for only a moment to watch your own roll back in pleasure as his tongue collided with your clit, making you forgive him with each unapologetic flick until he was granted your forgiveness itself in the release worn proudly over his grin. 

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @my-baexht-ls @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste

[waveypedia]

The Family We Make

Companion piece to Leaving the Nest (can be read in any order)

Ao3

After Bradford is defeated, it takes hours for the adrenaline of the day to wear off.

Fenton calls his mother, who brings half of Duckburg’s police force over much sooner than should be humanly possible. Any questioning stares are met with amused shrugs and Gyro’s passionate declaration to never get between Officer M.A.M.A. Cabrera and her son. Spoken from experience, of course. Officer Cabrera’s officers and the superheroes present arrest FOWL’s goons. (Pepper gives May and June goodbye hugs.) 

The villains are gone, of course, having split with the help of Magica’s sorcery and a harmless raven on her shoulder. They’d left with winks and playful smiles tossed over their shoulders. Almost friendly, but not quite. Familiar. The promises of future tussles and battles left unsaid in the desert air. No one says anything outright, but the villains’ smooth departure puts a smile on everyone’s faces. It’s the promise of a next time. Of countless adventures to come. Bradford, for all his meticulous and careful planning, lost.

Goldie steals Manny away to ride into the nearest town and comes back with a cooler of snacks. Uncle Scrooge - Dad (Dad!) - and Granny level their fiercest glares at her and pointedly ask if she paid for them. Goldie giggles behind her hand and avoids the question, dropping a packaged ice cream cone in Dewey’s hands. He lights up, and Dad melts just like the ice cream under the hot desert sun.

Webby, sitting blissfully between Dad and Granny, has a perfect view of their conversation with Goldie. She keeps shooting Webby weird looks, like she isn’t quite sure what to make of her. Honestly, Webby doesn’t really blame her. Webby has always been Granny’s granddaughter through and through, and she inherited Granny’s disdain for Goldie and protectiveness of Dad. 

Webby leans against Dad, and he puts an arm around her. Steady and protective, although she can feel his heart fluttering in his chest. He’s exhausted too - he went through perhaps the most today, at least physically. They’re both too tired to speak, at least right now, but they’re content enough to be in each others’ presence. 

Dewey leads the other kids to the ice cream, and they wave her over. Gosalyn passes a cone to her, and Huey hands her a napkin. She sits sandwiched between Boyd and June, eating ice cream on the ramp of the plane. Violet is holding Lena’s cone because Lena is busy weaving friendship bracelets for May and June.

Webby glances back to where Dad and Granny have set up camp. Members of their family are filtering through, offering assistance and comfort. Donald’s leading a team to fix the plane, and Ludwig is bringing a group through FOWL’s headquarters like a tour guide, to pick up any evidence and missing mysteries. Gyro is off to the side, painstakingly fixing Boyd’s body and the Gizmosuit, with Della hovering over his shoulder and making snarky remarks he pretends to be bothered by.

Soon they’ll be in the air, and she still hasn’t talked to Dad. Really talked to him.

Fear starts to pool in Webby’s gut. He seemed to take it well enough, but that was in the middle of the fight. What if he doesn’t want to be her father? What if this changes her relationship with her other family members?

Webby squeezes her cone so hard it cracks and melted ice cream spills onto her hand.

Why should a piece of parchment, magic or not, decide her family, when she’s spent years cultivating and choosing the perfect family of her own? For better or for worse?

A familiar hand waves in front of her face, green sleeves flapping in the slight breeze, and Webby jumps, startled. Her family, no longer contentedly eating their ice cream, are all staring at her with varying degrees of worry.

“Hey, Webs?” Louie blinks at her and shoves his hands back in the pocket. “You were kinda spacing out there.”

Webby shakes herself back into the present and grins sheepishly at him. “Sorry. What’s up?”

Louie jerks a thumb inside the plane. “Mom just came by. We’re about ready to start heading back. Reinforcements just got here, and they’re going to take everyone else home.”

Webby blinks and casts a quick glance around the desert, cultivated by years of spy training and adventuring. Della is indeed a few paces away, talking to Launchpad, next to the broken plane wing looking as good as new. On the other side of the plane, Amunet and D’jinn are talking to Goldie and Storkules as they enter Gladstone’s blimp. The desert is clearing out, and those who haven’t already left are busy packing up any supplies. 

Dad and Granny amble over with the rest of the adults into the plane. Dad stops in front of them, placing his cane on the ground with a clink and folding his hands over it. He’s smiling, tired but fond. His eyes rest on Webby for a moment longer than everyone else before moving on. 

“All ready, kids?” Dad asks, his beak quirking up in a familiar cocky smirk, and something fond settles in Webby’s gut.

“Ready,” she replies firmly with the rest of them, smiling, and enters the plane, ignoring her growing nervousness. She’s with her family now. She’s safe.

--

When they’re all safe and settled in the belly of the Sunchaser once again,  after Launchpad’s little snafu with the emergency hatch release, Webby seeks Dad out.

He’s sitting in the seat closest to the cockpit, talking with Aunt Daisy. Webby’s full to bursting with nervous energy, but, as she knows, it’s all for naught. His face lights up when he sees Webby coming. Aunt Daisy, as savvy and clever as she is, gives Webby a fond, knowing smile and slips away with a pat on Dad’s knee and a ruffle of Webby’s hair.

Hesitantly, Webby jumps into Aunt Daisy’s chair and maneuvers herself to face Dad. She busies herself for a few moments by fidgeting with her friendship bracelet.

Dad rearranges himself to face Webby, too. “What can I do for you, lass?” he asks, but she can tell from his tone he already knows where this conversation is going.

“So. Um.” Webby tugs at the hem of her skirt, bunching it up in her fists and hurriedly smoothing it out again. “Dad.”

“Dad,” he repeats, his voice full of wonder and amazement. A small smile tugs at his grin, threatening to burst and split his face.

“Can we talk?” Webby asks nervously. Her voice breaks a little on the word talk, and Dad noticeably winces.

“Of course,” he replies, awkward and stilted. “Go ahead.”

“Well…” Webby stares down at her skirt, then back up at Dad with glassy eyes. “Do you love me?”

Dad jerks, shocked. It’s clear that of all her questions, he certainly wasn’t expecting that one.

“Like a daughter,” Webby clarifies. “Do you love me like a daughter?”

Dad’s face changes, softens. It’s unreadable, but not unkind. 

“Of course,” he replies softly.

Webby flinches and glances to the side, at the wall of the plane. Anywhere but Dad’s face. She tries to hide her discomfort, but it’s clear he notices.

“Do you… not want me to?” he tries.

Webby shakes her head. “Of course I do,” she replies softly.

“Then why…” he trails off. He has a million clauses he could finish the sentence with, but they all hang heavy in the air between them, unsaid.

Webby can’t look at him. “I… I don’t want you to only love me because I’m your daughter,” she replies. Her voice breaks on the word daughter. “I want you to love me because I’m me.”

“Webbigail Vanderquack.” Dad stares at her incredulously. “I paid full price for your birthday party. And it was only a front! How can you think I don’t love you?!”

A shocked giggle bursts out of Webby. After a moment, Dad joins her in his own giggling fit.

“I know you love me,” Webby replies quietly after their giggles have died down. Dad’s smile sags, and his expression turns serious and forlorn. “But it’s not the same. I- I know I’ve always been Granny’s granddaughter. It’s a little different. I love you, but I hate that we’re family because a missing mystery said so, and not because we love each other.”

Dad’s expression softens. “Oh, lassie.” He opens his arms, and Webby crawls into his embrace without a second thought.

Dad smooths her hair and tucks his chin onto her head. “Did you know,” he says, his voice muffled by the embrace, “that technically, May and June are my daughters too?”

Webby’s eyes burn. “Hmm?”

“Aye,” Dad continues. “If you were made from my DNA, and May and June were made from yours, then they’re a part of me too. Maybe they’re more like my granddaughters, but the point stands.”

Webby buries her face further into Dad’s coat and doesn’t respond. She’s not sure how too.

“Point being, May and June are my family, and I will treat them as such. I’m sure they’re marvelous young girls, and lovely sisters for you, my dear.”

Dad shifts his embrace so he can see her face. He holds her gaze with a steady and serious look.

“But they’re not my daughters. You, Webby darlin’, are. Do you know why?”

Webby shakes her head.

Dad hugs her tighter. “Because you always have been,” he replies, his voice thick, and oh. “Maybe not with that exact label, but, as Lena would say, labels are weird. You’re my family. You’re one of my kids. I know you, and I love you, Webby darlin’.”

“I… I know I didn’t make the effort to get to know you when you were young,” Dad continues. “I will be the first to admit I regret that. I’ve made a lot of mistakes when it comes to family. But I’ve had the honor of watching you grow these past years, and of being your family. And I wouldn’t trade that for the world.”

Webby nods. She knows they’re both thinking of earlier that day, when Scrooge’s declaration was put to the test, and won, but only narrowly. He doesn’t make that statement lightly.

Dad shifts, and his embrace loosens. His expression turns troubled and almost… nervous? It scares Webby by osmosis, but a part of her that she hasn’t processed yet thinks it’s comforting that he’s just as scared as she is. It’s new territory for both of them, but they’ll conquer it together.

“Webby, lass,” Dad begins, hesitantly. “Do you… not want me to be your father?”

Webby hums thoughtfully. Out of all the questions that had arisen in the wake of the Papyrus’ reveal, she hadn’t directly considered this one. It had been at the back of her mind, waiting, lingering.

Despite the lack of deliberation time, Webby knows the answer. She’s always known it, from the moment Bradford had confirmed her ancestry.

“Yes,” she says confidently, so firmly that it startles Dad. “It’s like you said. You’re my family, and that didn’t change.”

Dad’s face softens, and his shoulders slump with relief, and his grin threatens to split his face. Webby grins back, a mirror of his own.

“But,” she continues. “I… I like calling you Uncle Scrooge, too. It feels right to call myself your daughter, but it also feels right to call myself your niece. Does… is that okay? Does that make sense?”

“Of course,” Dad replies, shifting his arms. “I think I know how you feel. You are my daughter, and my niece. You’re one of my kids, and that will never change.”

He smiles wryly. “I do like having this special connection to you, though, lass. I have many heirs, but you’re the heir of Clan McDuck. That’s not something to take lightly. I’m proud of you.”

“I’ve never had a father,” she says after a minute. “Granny told me about a father, and a mother, too, but I never really knew them. But I’ve always had you.”

“Aye, Blaise,” Dad replies. “Your so-called ‘mother’ was your grandmother’s niece, if I remember correctly. Arianna. She and Blaise were sweet, if a bit airheaded, from what your grandmother’s told me. They were in a car crash shortly before you were bo- before your grandmother brought you home.”

Webby hums. “I didn’t know they were real.”

“Aye, they were very real,” Dad confirms. “As I’m sure Louie or Goldie will tell you, the best lies are closest to the truth. I’m sure they would love you, dear.”

“I don’t know them,” Webby counters softly. She tilts her head back to look Dad in the eyes. “I never will. But I know you.”

He beams at her. “Exactly, lassie.”

Webby shifts back into his embrace, and they sit together for a minute, the plane’s rumblings shaking them both slightly. 

“Does this mean Goldie is my mom now?” Webby asks suddenly, her beak quirking into a grin.

Dad startles and squawks. “Ack, no! I know Louie calls her Aunt Goldie, for all the blasted- but now. Er, I suppose, that’s up to you, lassie,” he finishes somewhat awkwardly.

Webby smiles contentedly and leans her cheek against the fabric of his coat. “That’s okay,” she replies. “It’s my family and I get to choose the members.”

Dad grins proudly, and they lapse back into silence for another few minutes. The adrenaline, both from the harrowing events of the day and the nerve-wracking yet highly anticipated conversation with dad, slips out of her veins, and the heaviness of sleep tugs at Webby’s eyes.

Dad eventually breaks the drowsy, comfortable silence. “I’m proud to call you my daughter.” he murmurs into her hair, and Webby beams. “I’m proud you’re my family, not because that blasted Papyrus says so, but because you chose me. That means more to me than all the money in my Money Bin.”

Webby snuggles deeper into his embrace, her eyelids drifting closed. “Likewise, Dad. I love you.”

He smooths her hair down. The last thing she hears before she falls asleep, blissful and safe, is: “I love you too, Webby darlin’.”

~

god i. finale came out today and anyone who’s talked to me can verify that i’ve been in constant Duck Mode all day. head full only ducks. i’ve been struggling with motivation lately (as always lmao) but it struck today in the form of my absolute favorite dynamic in the entire show.

if you were in my circles back in 2018, around when confidential casefiles aired, you might remember that i talked a lot about webby and scrooge. i remember requesting them in almost every writing prompt request i was offered. i don’t talk about them much nowaways, and i’m not sure why, because i still love them. regardless of how you feel about the twist in the finale, the pure, unconditional love that webby and scrooge show each other makes me so, so happy. I almost added a section with beakley, because she's an important part of webby's family as well and they need to have a conversation, but webby and scrooge needed their moment. i'll write it later.

this is a bit of trying to make sense of how the theme of found and chosen family fits in with webby’s new biological relation to scrooge and a bit closure. scrooge isn’t the best at having these important conversations, but webby’s pretty good at sticking up for herself when need be.

arianna and blaise are actually based on my OC versions of webby’s parents i made a long, long time ago! arianna was a shush-turned-fowl agent, and blaise was a fowl technician. my plan for them was that they were working for fowl (which was, at the time, based on darkwing duck’s fowl) and eventually, they both cut ties and became freelance villains in st. canard and duckburg. the duck family would fight them, they’d recognize webby and beakley, and the truth would come out. the arianna and blaise mentioned here aren’t my old versions of them, but i wanted to pay tribute to that little picture webby had on her board of her parents. i figured they had to be someone, especially since the woman looked a lot like beakley. my headcanon is that they really were a librarian and an artist, and that beakley raised webby in their images as a tribute to the family she’d lost. also, it didn’t come up in the fic, but blaise is nonbinary and uses they/them pronouns!

when watching and rewatching the finale and watching gifs of it, something that struck me was how awestruck and euphoric scrooge acted when he found out. i think most of us focused on webby’s reaction, and beakley’s, but man, scrooge gets so quietly emotional and it means everything to me. this is basically a love letter to that quiet joy, scrooge and webby’s relationship, webby’s beautiful relationship with family, the finale, and ducktales as a whole. i love this goddamn show, and i’m going to miss it so much. see you, space cowboy.

[fandomscombine]

The Hargreeves Kerfuffle  Part 1 : Disastrous Childhood (Prologue)

TUA Series Part 1:  Disastrous Childhood

The Hargreeves siblings x Hargreeves!Reader (Familial Relationship)

An idea came to me at 2am after binging TUA S2 and rewatching S1 right after!

BG: The Reader is Number Eight. It follows how you fit into the structure of Season 1 and the family dynamic of the siblings.

This part follows when the young Hargreeves Siblings had their powers manifested and the development of The Umbrella Academy.

Contains: Sibling Angst and Fluff. Reginald being a crappy father but sometimes not really?

The series will consist of 10 parts. Where the reader would have a focused interaction with each sibling. (Eg. After this part, it would be Luther x Reader, then Diego x Reader and so on! –Yes Ben is included)

WC:2649

A/N: This is my first ever TUA fic and I’m doing a series. WOw ambitious I know. Anyways I hope you enjoy! And tell me how you feel about it!

>>MASTERLIST<<

>>THE HARGREEVES KERFUFFLE SERIES MASTERLIST<<

READ: [PART 2]  [PART 3]  [PART 4]

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

~

On October 1, 1989, 43 women across the globe gave birth despite them not being pregnant when the day began. In news of this mysterious happenings, Sir Reginald Hargreeves immediately went out of his way to find as many of these special babies. He has successfully adopted 8 of these children and you were one of them.

One might think that when a person adopts not one, but eight kids would have so much love to give but they would be mistaken. Sir Reginald Hargreeves—Dad, was not a loving father. It would be a miracle for one to see the man show any other emotion apart from anger. Sir Reginald Hargreeves was distant and treated the children like they were experiments that the dynamic felt closer to a doctor/patient relationship. The children weren’t given actual names, only to be called by their numbers based on the order Sir Reginald Hargreeves had procured them. It was only when Grace, their robot mother insisted they have a real name, were the children given them. And so, the children were:

Number One - Luther Hargreeves

Number Two – Diego Hargreeves

Number Three – Allison Hargreeves

Number Four – Klaus Hargreeves

Number Five – Five Hargreeves

Number Six – Ben Hargreeves

Number Seven – Vanya Hargreeves

And finally,

Number Eight -  y/n Hargreaves

For 6 years, the only special thing about the children was that they were miraculously conceived and birthed within a day, the same day. However, on the 7th year , October 1 1996, more strange things started to happen to the children.

It first started with Ben at breakfast. Dad as usual is cold and strict more so in the early morning. ‘Sit up straight Number Six.’ He directed without even a glance up from his newspaper at hand.

‘Yes Sir.’

Beside him you place your hand on his and whispered, ‘You alright Ben? You look sick.’

He gulped. ‘Yea y/n.’ Wiping the cold sweat off his forehead.

‘You sure?’ you questioned, not buying it.

‘Umhmm never bett-----’

You expected vomit to come out but what happen next is something you would never though was possible.

Screams broke out everywhere.

You feel yourself being raised above the table. Looking down, you were 5 feet off the ground held by what seemed to be tentacles.

‘Take that!’ You hear some shout then a thud. Diego had brought down a knife to the tentacle that had suffocated him and in now laying on the floor covered in green blood.

The sight finally snapped you out of your shock, your fight or flight reflexes kicked in.

A quick sweep of your surroundings showed Five and Klaus on either side of you, they too are struggling with the ever-tightening grip of the monstrous arm.

While on the ground, Vanya and Allison are making their way to Ben in hopes of helping him control whatever all this that was coming out of his body. While Luther is fighting off the arms away from Diego who seem to have broken his leg from the fall.

Dad, Mom and Pogo are nowhere to be seen.

You move your head to the left, knowing that Klaus doesn’t do well in small spaces. ‘Klaus it’s okay buddy, Dad would find a way to fic this. Just breathe’ You choked out ‘Just breathe Klaus, everything’s gonna be alright.’

‘mmmm!’ That was Klaus’ only reply but you were thankful to see him to fidget less. He seemed to have taken your advice – how much of the second part of that advice be true, you genuinely don’t know.

You try to move your head to face the right towards Five but no dice. The arm was wrapping itself closer to your neck. ‘Five’ you call out, but it was barely a whisper. ‘five..’

‘Y/N!!’ Five’s scream was the last thing you heard before everything went black.

~

‘She’s broken a couple of ribs and sprained her neck. But’s she’s gonna be okay. Just needs time to rest.’

‘And how long would that time Pogo?’

‘She would need to say in bed for 2 to 3 months, Sir.’

You open your eyes and are greeted with blinding white light. Dad, Mom and Pogo surround your bed.

Grace tucks a stray hair behind you ear. ‘My baby, y/n. How are you feeling?’

‘Sore.’ You reply, noting the coarse sound of your voice. ‘How’s Ben? Klaus? Vanya?—’

Grace cut you off. ‘They’re all fine y/n. Though Ben is a bit roughed up.’ She says truthfully.

‘Number Six has appeared to have powers of summoning monsters with his body and he is currently under supervision.’  Reginald stated.

But something didn’t fit right. ‘But how did you calm him down? The whole fiasco back there was in total chaos?’ Voicing out all your thoughts and questions. ‘No one could get him to take back control, unless…..’ You couldn’t continue the thought. Your eyes go wide. There was no way. It was too harsh, but it was dad after all, he would do whatever means necessary to get what he wants.

Your dad smiles proudly ‘Ah yes. Y/n ever the cleverest of the bunch.’ You had observed that he had addressed you in your actual name instead of your number for the first time in your whole existence.  ‘Unfortunately, I had to sedate Number Six. You do understand that it was the only way.’

You open your mouth to argue.

‘No buts, Number Eight!’ Ah and now we’re back to number, you thought.

‘I’ll have Grace by you side whist you recover and Pogo here would relay your recovery progress to me daily.’

He was almost to your door when he faced you again. ‘Oh and Number Eight, When you feel something different or unusual. Do inform me of it immediately.’ And with that he left.

‘Pogo? What does he mean by feel different?’ Your nerves go up, worried about your siblings. ‘Is anyone hurt?’

Pogo sighs, after much contemplation he begins ‘Y/n dear. Today’s happenings uncovered that there are stranger yet special things about you children.’

You nod, not wanting to interrupt but also wishing he would hurry up and continue.

‘Ben isn’t the only one who have gotten powers today. During the kerfuffle, Diego has shown skill with a knife, Luther immense strength and Five had shown ability to teleport.’

Once again you found yourself in shock.

‘Your father has gotten the idea that you children have varying power wish are “activated” so to speak when reached the age of 7.’

‘Haha-OW’ You clutch your side.

‘Careful y/n, try not to do sudden movements—yes and that includes laughing too.’ Mom says, caressing your cheek.

‘When can I see them?’

‘I’ll try to persuade Reggie to allow them for a visit dear. But now I need you to rest.’

~

Sibling Visits are limited to 30 mins a day, right before the bedtime curfew.

All your siblings (expect Ben who was still under strict supervision and is recovering himself) came to see you the following night.

Allison was the first one through your door and ran to give you a hug. ‘Y/n! We are all so worried!’

‘Aww thanks—OW OW OW’

‘Oops sorry’ releasing you from her death grip of a hug.

Seeing that movements still hurt you. The rest opted not to hug you, Klaus and Diego held your hand, Vanya is sitting on the edge of you bed, Luther gave you forehead a quick kiss and Five being Five, greeted you with the typical sibling teasing. ‘Glad to see you not drop dead in front of me.’

Diego showed off his leg cast and asked you to sign it, which you happily did so. Signing ‘Badass as always. -y/n’ beside Ben’s note of ‘Diego is cooler than Batman’

The 30 minutes consisted recaps of what happened the day before, the gushing of the boys showcasing their powers and debating on who’s the most powerful.

And just like that, the time was up and each had to go to bed. Everyone kissed your head for goodnights, even Five.

‘You know I love you right?’ His eyes softer than you ever seen before

‘I know’

‘You really scared me yesterday when you blacked out.’ Five had his tough façade down. ‘I thought you died y/n.’

‘But I didn’t.’ You reach up to wipe his tears away. ‘It’d take something bigger, if you wanna get rid of me.’

He chuckled. ‘Night, y/n’

‘Good night, Five.’

~

3 weeks had passed, and your siblings never failed to visit you. Over that time, Klaus and Allison had manifested their powers. Klaus can conjure the dead while Allison could ‘rumor’ people to her will.

Ben came by 2 weeks later. His color is back to normal, not like the blueish tint it had the last time you saw him. Though he still had a few remnants of bruises and scars across his arms and face.

‘I’m sorry y/n.’ He said leaning on your door frame.

‘Ben!’ You exclaimed. ‘I’m so glad you’re back up and running!’

Ben was caught off guard. ‘You—You’re not mad at me?’

‘Why would I be mad at you?’ You questioned, genuinely confused at your brother’s words.

‘Cause, Cause I almost got you killed. I am a monster.’

You sat up straight at those words, your ribs hurt a bit at the sudden movement, but you didn’t care. Your brother was blaming himself for something he couldn’t have controlled.

‘NO BEN!’

Ben jumped from your sudden outburst.

You motioned for him to come closer.

‘Ben…’ looking into his eyes. ‘Ben you are no monster.’

‘But—’

‘uuh uh I’m not done’ You held his hand in yours. ‘You are no monster what happened then was an accident, nobody knew, heck nobody expected powers to just show up. It was beyond anyone’s control. It took us by surprise.’

His shoulders relaxed.

‘It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for what happened.’

He gave you a bone crushing hug. ‘Thank you y/n. You don’t know how guilty I was feeling.’ Voice muffled by your shoulder, which is now wet with his tears. ‘I kept thinking about the pain I caused you and I wasn’t allowed to leave my room even when I begged dad to see you and say sorry. y/n’

‘Shhh shhh’ Rubbing his back. ‘It’s alright Ben. What’s important is that we’re all here now. Alive, Safe and sound.’.

~

You still have a month left for recovery.

Only you and Vanya are the one left who haven’t had their powers revealed.

Dad had created a group called ‘The Umbrella Academy’ in which he trained your super powered siblings. He even given them codenames to go along with their newfound powers.

Number One - Luther Hargreeves aka Spaceboy

Number Two – Diego Hargreeves aka The Kraken

Number Three – Allison Hargreeves aka The Rumor

Number Four – Klaus Hargreeves aka The Séance

Number Five – Five Hargreeves aka The Boy

Number Six – Ben Hargreeves aka The Horor

With this new training program comes with the downside of spending less time with your siblings. Your traditional Sunday afternoon sister bonding time Allison and Vanya is basically non-existent now. Sure the rest of siblings still drop by to check up on how you’re recovering but it is not as frequency as they once were- you totally understand though, it must be tiring to be part of ‘The Umbrella Academy’ but girl were you still hurt and wanted more than anything to be a part of it.

So, you spend most of your time with Vanya nowadays. You didn’t mind, it is nice to have someone along. Most of the time Vanya practices her violin in your room.

‘That was beautiful Vanny’ you commented after she finished a rendition.

‘Thanks y/n’ Her face flushed. ‘Maybe someday I’d be a famous violinist!’

‘I know you would.’ You say truthfully. ‘And I better get the best seats at your concerts okay? Nothing short of VIP treatment for your favourite sister!’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Allison would get that.’ Vanya teased.

Placing a hand dramatically to your chest ‘uhh I am offended! I thought I was your favourite sister!’

‘well... you thought wrong.’ Vanya tried to keep a straight face but failed. ‘You y/n are the VVIP guest!’

‘Now that’s more like it.’

~

That night you were tossing and turning in your bed.

In the training room, huge boulders were being tossed onto Luther’s back. He currently had 3 on him. ‘More’ he cried. It was an impressive feat to see. A 7-year-old carry the what had to be at least 5 times his weight.

It was at his 6th block when his legs start to shake.

‘Straighten up Number One!’ Reginald voice came through the speakers.

‘I-I’

‘Fix your posture! And stop babbling!’

He was trembling all over, the weight was far too much and carried far too long for just a young boy.

Any second now, he is gonna be crushed by the boulders.

‘LUTHER!’ You screamed. Cold sweat was plastered all over your face. You were still in your room- but it all felt so real.

You look over to your bedside table, 9:07

Training would have started an hour ago. You had time.

You took the stairs two at a time, bursting into the training room. ‘STOP’

Reginald stood from his seat. ‘Number Eight. What in the world are you doing here?’

‘STOP! Luther is gonna get hurt please stop it--.’ Ignoring his question.

‘Number Eight, what are you talking about? Number One is doing perfectly fine!’ He gestured towards the front.

He was right. Luther looks fine. In fact it looked like it was carrying a light backpack instead of 3 boulders. ‘But- But I saw—’ Then it hit you 3 boulders. 3 not 6.

‘More’ You heard him cried out, just like you had in your nightmare.

You stared at Luther, how could this be?

‘I saw him sir, he is gonna collapse from 6 boulders.’

At this, Reginald took interest. ‘You saw?’

‘Yes, I-I must have dreamt it.’ You slumped against the free chair, defeated. ‘but it felt so real.’

‘Let me everything you saw, and don’t miss a single detail’

And so, you did. By the time you finished, Luther was with his 6th block.

It was exactly like how things went down in your dream. ‘No No NOOOO!’

‘Release him!’ Reginald called at the last second. Standing he faced you. ‘Now y/n dear would you please come with me.’

He didn’t speak again until you were both in his office. ‘It seems to me Number Eight that your powers have finally manifested.’

‘what—’

‘A slight delay compared to your siblings, but I presume that it was due to you recovering from your injuries that your body had focus on your recovery first then powers.’

‘What about Vanya? Would she have powers?’

‘It seems that Number Seven has no powers gained.’ Standing in front of you. ‘But no matter now, what’s important is that you’ve got them.’ He placed his hands on your shoulders. ‘You would do great things Number Eight. To see into the future is a valuable asset to have indeed. For this I shall name you Foresight.’

This was it! You own codename!

Number Eight -  y/n Hargreaves aka Foresight.

‘I’m gonna be part of The Umbrella Academy?’ Overjoyed by your father taking pride in you that every other thought left your concern.

‘Yes Foresight. You will.’ Standing straight again. ‘However, your training would only start once you have fully recovered.’

‘Thanks Dad.’ Hugging him and for once showed the affection back.

You wish you could say that it was at this point where you and your siblings finally gotten a loving and healthy childhood. But you were wrong. Things only deteriorated from here on out with the Hargreeves household and by extension the dissolve of The Umbrella Academy.

END OF PART 1

READ: [PART 2] [PART 3]  [PART 4]

Taglist [All]: @gruffle1

Taglist [TUA]: @herecomesthesun1969  @ultraviolet-m​ @winterierwriter @lordofthunderthr​  @alabaster1223

[vgilantee]

The Manager || Platonic! Sunset Curve x Reader

Requested by anon

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: the guys swear because nobody can tell me that a bunch of 17 year olds in a rock band in the 90’s didn’t swear. I know i said fluff but i had an angst idea and it was too good not to add (i’m sorry). and while i don’t bother with adjusting to the american spelling most of the time, I did for ‘mom’ and ‘flavor’ and i hated it every time i typed it. final note: if i were to do more parts it would become a series rewrite, so if that’s something that interests you, let me know!

Warnings: character death, unhappy home life (no details)

While being the manager for Sunset Curve often felt closer to being a parent sometimes, it’s not a job you would trade for the world. Well, less a job because you weren’t really getting paid, but it was a good gig. You got to see some awesome venues and other small musicians, you quite often got free food from venues, and of course, got to hang out with your favourite boys. They gave you a place in the world, somewhere where you felt at home. They were family. Plus, Luke had graciously allowed you to crash in the studio with him when things got bad at home. 

You swing the door open, duffle bag over your shoulder, and march into the studio. It’s late, again, but your parents had started going off while you were trying to study and your father had mentioned your name, so you grabbed the emergency bag and climbed out the window. Luke looks up from his page and watches as you drop the bag on the ground and flop face down on the sofa. 

“Again?” You hum and nod into the pillow before flipping onto your back. 

“Dad said my name and mentioned something about grades and the band and I left before they could drag me into it further.” You glance over to see he has closed his journal and is resting his forearms on the acoustic in his lap. 

“Smart move.” You laugh and shift again to lay on your side. “The guys are in the house getting food by the way.” As if on queue, Reggie walks in with a stack of pizza boxes, Bobby has his arms full of bags of various snacks, and Alex is carrying an open cooler full of bottles of soda. 

“Oh hey, Y/N!” Alex raises the fingers on one hand in a wave before putting the cooler on the ground in front of the sofa. 

“Parents again?” Bobby gives you a sympathetic look before dropping the bags next to the pizza boxes Reggie had put on the coffee table. 

“Yep!” You pop the ‘p’ sound with false enthusiasm.

“You may as well just move in at this point.” Luke says it like a joke, but it’s been a joke for so long that you all know he says it seriously.

“You know what?” You sit up quickly and give a short nod. “My parents both have work tomorrow, you lot are gonna help me grab what I need.” It was that simple. The boys all make varying statements of agreement before sitting on the miscellaneous chairs around the coffee table. 

--

Luke had suggested you all dress in black for the heisting of your belongings, and as Alex was the only voice of reason, you all ended up head-to-toe in black. 

“Shh.” Luke whips around and presses a finger to his lips when you swing the door shut behind the group.

“There is literally nobody home Luke. And also this is my house. We don’t need to be quiet.” You gesture around the entrance with your hands as you speak, and Luke turns around and pulls the black beanie he insisted you wear, down over your eyes. You swat him away and he shushes Reggie as he laughs at you.

“It’s a heist! You gotta be quiet.” You roll your eyes after putting the beaning back in place on your head, before walking towards the staircase. “Everyone remember the plan?” Turning around you fold your arms and roll your eyes again. 

“School stuff.” Bobby salutes Luke, who nods. 

“Blankets and pillows!” Reggie copies Bobby’s salute, and is also nodded at. Alex rolls his eyes, and with far less enthusiasm holds his hand in a salute.

“Stuffing and zipping up bags.” Luke nods once more then turns to you with an expectant look. 

“Toiletries and underwear.” He taps his foot and clears his throat dramatically, staring at you, waiting. “Oh, right.” You salute him as well.

“And I’m on clothes!” You hear the noise of his hand hitting his forehead as he salutes with a bit too much force. “And if we hear the ‘rents, we move to Y/N’s room as quietly as possible, where we will finish packing what we have and bail out the window. Let’s move out!” You aren’t sure if he expected you all to go separate ways, but you move as a group up the stairs and into your room so that everyone can collect bags. Bobby takes your school bag, Reggie a duffle bag, and Luke and Alex reef a suitcase out from the top of your wardrobe. You swing a drawstring bag over your shoulder as you watch Luke nearly drop the suitcase on Alex, who promptly swears at him. 

With a final salute, you all part ways. You hear Bobby thundering down the stairs as you walk over to the bathroom, rolling our eyes at him. Grabbing your toiletries, including spare deodorants and toothpastes, before moving back into your bedroom where your drawers have been pulled open and clothes are being tossed onto the bed by Luke. You can only watch in horror and amazement as your clothes are thrown out of the drawers, and Alex folds them at an incredible speed. You want to ask him how he is folding them so quickly, but you don’t want to break his concentration. Instead you move to the unopened drawer and collect all your underwear, shoving it into the bag in your hands on top of the items already in the bag. You grab your hairbrush, adding it to the bag, before pulling the strings on the bag and closing it. 

“Need a hand, Alex?” He looks up after placing a folded shirt neatly in the suitcase. He opens his mouth to respond but instead snorts as you are hit in the head with a pair of jeans.

“Shit, sorry!” You pull the jeans from over your shoulder and glare at Luke, who has his hands covering his mouth.

“Screw you.” You flip him off, then fold the jeans and place them in the suitcase. 

The three of you managed to empty all your drawers and were in the process of sorting out what heavier jackets to take from your closet when you hear a door close, followed by thundering feet. The door is swung open and Bobby leans against the doorframe. 

“Mother.” Is all he manages to get out before Reggie tries to push past him and they both tumble into your room, making a thump as they land. 

“Shhh!” You and Luke push your index fingers to your lips, shushing the guys at the same time, but it’s too late.

“Y/N?” You all freeze as your mom calls out for you. You turn to the guys, left index finger still pushed to your mouth, as you point to the window with quick and sharp motions. They all nod and collect the bags and suitcases (a second was grabbed at some point in their packing) and move to the window. You don’t want your mom to know you are home to avoid whatever argument will undoubtedly occur, hence the attempt at silence, but when Reggie drops the suitcase he’s carrying with a echoing thud, you realise that won’t be possible.

“Shit. I’ll meet you at the car. Go!” You whisper harshly at the guys as he raises his hand to apologise and you leave your room, shutting the door behind you to hopefully muffle any more noises they make and buy them some more time. “Yeah mom?” Your mom waits at the bottom of the stairs, arms folded, as you make your way down. “What’s up?” You try to mask your anxiety about the whole situation by leaning against the railing.

“Don’t ‘what’s up’ me. You disappeared last night, and while I know you were at the studio with the band, you could have at least called to let me know that you were okay. Because really I didn’t know for sure because you didn’t call! You could have even called me this morning to say you were coming home. I had no way of knowing if you were safe, or, or, or if something had happened. I didn’t know!” 

“Mom-” You try to say something to calm her down but she interrupts, clearly not finished with her lecture.

“And you’re letting your grades slip! Running around with those stupid boys in that stupid band. You say you’re their manager, but it’s not a job and it’s definitely not a career! You need to pay more attention to class instead of going to clubs and venues with them. Which isn’t safe! Running around Hollywood with those four idiots in the middle of the night, sometimes not even coming home. There are all kinds of dangerous people out there and with no adult supervision anything could happen!” 

“Mom!”

“No. Your father isn’t right about a lot of things but he’s definitely right about not letting you see them again. Being friends with them is dangerous, not because they are, but because none of you have any common sense or self preservation!” 

“Mom, enough.” You rarely stood up to her, and you had never scolded her before, but calling the only four people that truly felt like family ‘idiots’ was the last straw. “I know it isn’t a job, but they are my best friends, and I enjoy going to those venues! I know it could be dangerous but the five of us are always together. My grades haven’t slipped, except maybe a couple of classes by one or two percent. But it’s not going to ruin me. And-”  The door slams shut and you look up quickly from your mother to see your father in the door. 

“Y/N.” Your father speaks very even and monotone, and his moves are all calculated. But his hands are clenched and his eyebrows are furrowed.

“Hi dad.” It was overly formal, and your brain screams at you to run, run from this conversation. But you can’t. You need to make sure the guys are as far away as possible, hopefully even at the car. You don’t think your father would track them down to stop you, but you don’t want to tell your parents you are leaving, and really you weren’t actually sure he wouldn’t track them down and drag you home. “How was work?” Poking the bear was very stupid.

“You disappeared last night, didn’t bother to leave a note or anything and scared the shit out of your mother!” You flinch slightly as he raises his voice. “You won’t be seeing that ridiculous band ever again, I can promise you that.” You glance at the clock and quickly decide that the guys have had enough time to get to Bobby’s car parked in the next street over. So you nod along in faux understanding. “You’re grounded, and you will spend the rest of the night until dinner studying.” You scoff and try to act pissed off, storming back up the stairs. To add to the act, you slam the door shut behind you, before grabbing a hoodie and climbing out the window.

You sneak around the house, watching your parents carefully as they move to the living room. They seem to be arguing again, almost certainly about you. You hop the fence into the neighbours yard then book it down the street to the waiting car. The engine is going and the second Reggie sees you, the windows are rolled down and they are yelling at you to hurry up, Bobby leaning over to open the passenger-side door. You laugh as you dive into the passenger seat. The door is barely shut when Bobby revs the engine and you drive away, a rock song from a mixtape you had made Bobby for his birthday playing loudly through the speaker and the five of you singing along and laughing. 

--

“Boys I have excellent news!” Wrong notes are played and a drumstick is dropped as you fling open the door with a piece of paper in your hand. 

“Christ, Y/N.” Bobby places a hand to his heart as Alex leans down to pick back up his drumstick.

“What’s the news?” Luke places his guitar on a stand and slides over to you. 

“Sit sit!” You gesture your boys towards the sofa on the opposite wall. “I won’t just tell you, there’s no fun in that!” They groan but comply, squashing together on the sofa, Alex with his legs over Luke’s, Reggie sitting cross-legged with his feet under him, and Bobby putting his feet up on the coffee table. 

“Well?” Luke leans forward over Alex’s feet and rests his elbows on his knees. 

“As you know I have been going around to potential venues to get you guys a show that isn’t in a bar that perpetually smells like puke, while you are playing your puke-scented shows and writing new hits.”

“Yeah.” They all reply at the same time and your smile grows.

“And I am also the best manager in the world, especially because of the fact that I am your manager.”

“Yeah yeah. Just tell us.”

“Bobby, quiet. I am building suspense.” Reggie swats his arm as if to say ‘yeah Bobby’. “Anyway. You also know that you are all incredibly talented and you will become the biggest band every.” The guys are all leaning forward and staring at you, waiting for you to finally tell them what news you’ve bought. “Alex, drumroll.” He immediately complies with an enthusiastic drumroll on Luke’s back. “You’re playing the Orpheum!” You throw your hands up as the guys all jump up and celebrate. “Are you serious?” Bobby grabs the piece of paper with the show contract as Reggie picks himself up off the floor after tripping over his feet trying to stand. 

“How did you do that?” Luke is jumping on the sofa and Alex is shaking you by the shoulders. 

“I’m just that good.” You manage so say through the laughing and shaking. 

--

“Size beautiful.” You roll your eyes as Alex groans and Reggie hands the poor bartender the shirt and demo. 

“Thanks.” She laughs as she holds up the Sunset Curve shirt before tossing it over her shoulder.

“I am so sorry about him.” You say genuinely to her, stood between Reggie and Luke.

“No worries. I’ll make sure not to wipe the table down with this one.” She offers them all a polite smile that you can tell is a forced customer service smile.

“Oh, good call. Whenever they get wet, they just kinda fall apart in your hands.” Alex gestures with his hands and you hear Bobby sigh.

“Don’t you guys have to go get hotdogs?” Oh? You realise that Bobby very likely wants to flirt with Bartender Rose and is trying to get rid of you all, finding his bandmates embarrassing sometimes. Luke pushes him back and nudges you with his shoulder as he leans over the bar, giving it a quick drum with his hands.

“Yeah, he had a hamburger for lunch.” He bounces then walks away, and Reggie shoves his shoulder.

“See you before the show.” You elbow him as you follow after Luke and Reg, and Alex bounces to catch up to you.

--

You eye the hotdog as it is handed over to you. You trust the guys but you don’t trust this hotdog ‘vender’ who is the sauce bottle sitting in his engine. You watch as Alex tells him that he spilt pickle juice into the car as you add sauces and toppings to your own. The vender says that it will help and laughs as Alex sputters, looking at you mumbling about how that doesn’t sound right. 

--

“That’s a new flavor.” You nod, continuing to chew as Alex says what you are thinking through a mouth full of hotdog.

“Relax,” Reggie looks over at him, “street dogs haven’t killed us yet.” The logic is sound enough so you all take another bite. 

-- 

You stomach hurt, god it hurt. It was like being punched in the gut over and over again, and your stomach was turning, and with every breath in your sides hurt. You could hear Reggie and Alex groaning over your own noises, but you couldn’t hear Luke anymore. You felt the tears rolling down the sides of your face but you couldn’t move your hands away from your stomach. You barely heard the paramedics arrive over the sound of the blood rushing through your ears, and while you could hear them talking you couldn’t decipher words. 

You let out a sob as a paramedic leans over you. You barely register being lifted onto an ambulance bed, but you turn your head and watch as Alex is lifted into one. As they wheel you out you see a black bag being zipped up. 

You feel light headed as they lift you into the ambulance and you hear Reggie gulp in a breath, before the paramedics swarm over to him. Alex is wheeled in next to you and you see his hand reach out to you. You forcefully peel your hand away from your stomach and hold his hand. You squeeze your eyes shut and hear the paramedic sigh, defeated. You let out a groan, then a sob, and squeeze Alex’s hand as you struggle to breathe. He lets out a pained noise and squeezes your hand back.

Then it’s all gone, and your body is rising. You turn to Alex and see your body, and Reggie’s body, with a version of him floating above his body. You stare at him wide-eyed but he looks past you at Alex. You both watch as the paramedics give up on you and move over to Alex as the heart rate monitor gives a solid high beep. And then he’s rising and looking at you and Reggie. The three of you rise above the ambulance and you hear Alex whisper Luke’s name, looking above just you. You catch sight of him for a second before he disappears. The second he does you feel the pulling that was simply causing you to slowly float up, gave a harsh tug and you were suddenly in a black room. 

Alex cried when he arrived, and you felt yourself panic. You were dead. You just died. You and three of your best friends had just died. Reggie was pacing and Luke had just sat on the ground, head in hands. Your own hands were shaking and you couldn’t look at one spot or person for longer than a second. 

The pulling feeling returns after a while and you are falling, the four of you screaming before landing on a carpet, a girl around your age screaming back at you.

---

Taglist: @parkeret​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @amazing-socks​ (if you want to be added to a tag list, send in an ask!)

[thewaynemanner]

BatFamily Fic Recs Part 3

Hey All, here are some more BatFam fic recs for you! I consider these all to be favorites, so I hope you find a fic or two you absolutely love! All these fics focus on family dynamics so there is no slash, however, the ratings do vary so be conscious of that and be sure to read the tags before you read the fic! And don’t forget to show the authors your love with kudos and comments!

Bury Your Sons by @romiress

Summary: Slade Wilson doesn't have a conscience. If he ever had one, he got rid of it years ago. But watching a man half his age cry every night from his nightmares is starting to get to him, waking up feelings he long ago put aside.

---

A Canon Divergence AU: What if Slade looked into the Arkham Knight's history? What if, bothered by his own family issues, he decided to help the Arkham Knight in his own way, rather than helping him continue his revenge against Batman?

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 119,214

My Comments: I have never loved a fic as much as I love this one and as a total Slade Wilson stan I can tell you right now this is one of the best (and in my humble opinion THE absolute best) Slade Wilson and BatFam fic out there. Things that made this fic my All-Time Favorite fic: the characterizations, the hurt and comfort, the finding of family, the humor, the angst, the love the characters have for each other and how Damian is introduced to the family (this is later in the series I believe). I cannot stress how epic and beautiful this fic is.

An Invincible Summer by WithTheKeyIsKing

Summary: What Slade didn't expect upon opening his front door: a nine-year-old with a handful of crumpled bills, wanting to hire him to avenge the murder of his parents.

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 3,066

My Comments: An AU where Slade basically adopts Dick? Yes, please! This was such an original and wonderfully done fic. Honestly, off the charts with wholesomeness and left me craving more! I couldn't get over the amazing dynamic between Dick and Slade. Trust me, you will fall in love with this fic and be begging the author for more.  

The Jingle Jangle Morning by @audreycritter

Summary: Dick’s first overnight field trip without Bruce doesn’t go as well as planned.

Word: 5,287

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

My Comments: THIS IS THE BATDAD WE DESERVE!!! The relationship between Dick and Bruce is beautifully captured in this fic, it honestly brought tears to my eyes. This fic is so heartwarming and if you love yourself some good dad Bruce Wayne and adorable Dick Grayson then this is the fic for you. A million kudos to this fic.

Looking for Home by Team_Alpha_Wolf_Squadron

Summary: Bruce and Jason are lost in the woods, not knowing how they got there, or even where they are. A little road trip even when there is no road is always good for bonding though.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 11,887

My Comments: Everything I have ever read by Team_Alpha_Wolf_Squadron (i.e., one of my fav authors) has blown me away and Looking for Home is no exception. This fic is one of the most intriguing and beautifully done fics I have ever read. This story has everything I love; a mystery, a bit of an eerie vibe, familial love, and plenty of twists and turns. I love a fic that can bring be to tears and this one did that multiple times. An All-Time Favorite for sure.

Spawn by @heartslogos

Summary:  "You're fucking with me." Tim blinks up at his uncle – and he's never seen his uncle in full armor before, not in person. It's kind of daunting. "Please tell me you're fucking with me, spawn."

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 11,449

My Comments: BEST FIC EVER!!!! Honestly, this fic has the coolest and most original fracking premise ever. Slade as Tim's uncle??? Can it get any cooler than that?! Such a well written fic with amazing characterizations. It's hilarious, it's heartwarming, and so so so good. I promise you will LOVE this fic.

For More Fic Rec’s Check-Out:

Wholesome BatFamily Fic Recs

BatFamily Fic Recs Part 2 

BatFamily Fic Recs Part 4

BatFamily Fic Recs Part 5

[pergaias]

excerpts from books i’ll never write ; ii

the varying lengths of these excerpts mess with me  and my perfectionism istf - some are long, like this one, others are short, but hey - all of them lead to the same place. nowhere. 

this is the entire first chapter of a story that i will never finish so um - enjoy ?

title: checkmate word count: 3030

CHAPTER ONE

1.1 ‘YOU THINK YOU’RE FUNNY, RIGHT?’

“VENETIA VERNE, INTERN FOR The White Knight Herald.”

Venetia Verne was done. Done with her job-- being a reporter only sounded fun in theory-- done with her outfit-- what in the world was she thinking-- and of course, done with Octavia Tyrell.

Tavi. Her buttercup. 

Venetia was pretty sure her eyes were so swollen that her cry-fest would be painfully obvious, and was also pretty much positive that she looked like a wreck. 

Not even the fancy perfume she stole from Octavia last night would mask the smell of abject heartbreak.

Seventeen years old but acting twenty-three, Venetia always prided herself for being mature, collected, and a total bitch. 

Of course, the bitch part was usually used affectionately-- Tavi had always called her you bitch! as an endearment, just like the way Venetia used to squeeze her hand and whisper buttercup.

Seventeen years old, but acting twelve when it came to breakups.

“Right this way, Miss Verne,” a female assistant led her across the hall, and Venetia surreptitiously straightened her skirt out. She had chosen a dove-colored skirt and a very vintage white blouse-- vintage chic had always been her style, even though Tavi always pushed for her to look more preppy-glam.

As if. Octavia managed to look like Elle Woods but black-and-white. Venetia was stuck as a Forties poster ad.

“Thank you,” Venetia tried for a smile, but it came out vaguely grimace-like. Had she spent all night crying? Possibly. Was she tired of life, the universe, and everything? Also possibly.

For the record, the answer was not forty-two. Screw the flying dolphins and their musical number about fish.

The assistant nodded, her hair in a bun so tight that Venetia’s scalp sympathized. “Our director is quite excited to meet you, Miss Verne-- he says you’re the best in your generation, and our boss at the Herald has never been more excited about a high school prospect-- you must be doing something right.”

Venetia tried for another smile, but this one looked like a leer. The assistant smiled sympathetically, her heels clicking rhythmically against the tiled floor of the building. She was probably tired of everything, too-- the office had the feel of a morgue. 

As Venetia trailed behind her, her mind kept wandering to Tavi’s coily dark hair, her rich laugh, the way her brown eyes caught the light and turned to gold. Tavi’s lips on the other boy’s, her hands reaching up his shirt--

Venetia broke off. Octavia didn’t know she saw-- to Octavia, everything was still all well and good. Of course, Tavi was used to having everything she wanted. Spoiled, rich, princess bastard--

“We’re here, sweetie,” the assistant motioned to an imposing-looking door, a slightly condescending note to her voice. 

“I appreciate the concern, but it’s Venetia, love.” Venetia allowed herself a smirk at the now-shellshocked assistant before opening the door herself.

Venetia Verne had no interest in being polite or heterosexual. 

“Hi, Dad,” Venetia deadpanned, plopping down in front of the central feature of the office-- a heavy, fancy desk-- and all but putting her feet up. Today was just punch after punch after punch-- of course, Venetia could have rescheduled, but all that bitch energy had to go somewhere, right?

“Venetia.” Cyprian Jung looked no different from the day he divorced her mother, choosing a career and a fancy business conglomerate instead of a wife and tenacious daughter.

Let’s face it. Venetia was still just a little bit bitter. Just a little. 

“Hi. Venetia Verne, intern for the White Knight Herald.” Venetia kept her coy smile, putting emphasis on her mother’s surname. “My final high school project involves me reporting on the crimes of--”

“You’re reporting on the crimes of the White Queen?” her father’s face snapped up, dark hair and hawkish nose and slanted eyes the color of pond scum. 

“Yes,” Venetia said primly, her eyes narrowing. 

“Venetia, sweetheart,” 

“Don’t sweetheart me.” 

“Venetia.”

“Venetia what, Father?”

“Venetia, do you know why I let you interview me?” Cyprian sighed, stroking his nonexistent beard with two fingers. Like, if he actually had one, Venetia was so going to pull an Aang-and-Firelord-Ozai and yank him down by the stupid goatee.

Think calm thoughts, Ven. Less violent, more… Passive-aggressive? Put salt in his coffee instead of sugar?

“Because, like you said. I’m the best of my generation.” Venetia’s gray-green eyes glittered. “And as we both know, the pen is greater than the sword.”

“What do you need to know?” 

ON CYPRIAN JUNG

AS HARD AS IT may be to believe, Cyprian Jung wasn’t always a douche CEO and The Worst Father of the Year. 

Once upon a time, Cyprian might have been Venetia’s favorite person in the world-- but Venetia always skips over that information, and more often than not, likes to pretend that her father didn’t exist. 

Because being raised by a single badass mother sounded a lot cooler than “yeah, my dad decided that his business was a better child than I was, lolol”

But when an new upstart reporter’s article landed on his desk one drizzly Monday morning, Cyprian was shocked to realize that his very gay, very disappointing daughter was the one who wrote it.

Now, we can go two directions here. We can say that Cyprian was so proud and so moved by his daughter’s shrewd reporting skills and her article, or we can say that Cyprian saw something in his daughter that he realized he could exploit, like any good, cunning businessman.

Venetia Verne, who looked-- and acted-- nothing like her father (who seemingly embodied every single fucking Asian stereotype-- how did he even do that?) was proud that she was her mother's daughter.

She hated every resemblance she had with Cyprian, of which she unfortunately had a multitude.

And here comes the plot twist: Cyprian Jung, even though he seemed like he didn’t care for his daughter at all, did. 

That was why he called her into his office on an unnaturally-bright Saturday, the day after Venetia and her girlfriend went to a Friday night house party and Venetia stumbled in on her girlfriend in the middle of a hot make-out sesh with a boy.

And before Venetia turned to her mother for advice on her problem, and before she decided to become who she wanted to be for herself, her father would do one good thing for her.

And it would be the only good thing that Venetia would ever, grudgingly, accept that he did.

1.2 ‘CALLING ME DRUNK WHEN IT’S TOO LATE AT NIGHT’

VENETIA CAME BACK FROM her interview with her father a little satisfied and a little angry. 

Satisfied because she had the outline for her next article all set out and ready to go-- complete with quotes from her father about the White Queen-- and angry for two reasons. 

One, because her father really thought that way? Screw him. 

And two, because Venetia had always gone to lunch on Saturdays with Octavia at their favorite boba shop, munching on Taiwanese food and complaining about how difficult ‘life-ing’ was. Octavia had always managed to make Cyprian (and her own father’s) bigoted ideals about feminism (and gay culture, honestly) seem funny.

Venetia pressed her lips into a tighter line as she finally got out of her father’s ice-cold office building and onto the street, where the motion and movement of the city slowed, if not stilled, her thoughts.

Her flat shoes dragged against the gritty pavement as Venetia trudged towards, actually, Venetia didn’t know where she was going. She just kept walking, her bag over her shoulder and one hand brushing against the folds of her skirt.

Venetia hated not having purpose. Saturdays were hard because those were the days that lacked the most schedule-- school days had school, with designated wake-up and go-the-fuck-to-sleep times. Saturdays were full of freedom, and Venetia Verne didn’t know what to do with it.

So she continued walking, wishing that she had something to do. There was always lunch with Tavi to look forward to, or thrift shopping if she wanted. She could walk around the city aimlessly, or she could go home and mope around--

In her bag, her phone buzzed insistently. Only one person ever texted and didn’t call-- Tavi.

Tears burned the backs of Venetia’s eyes, and a lump formed in her throat. Octavia was probably calling wondering why she wasn’t at the shop yet, knowing about her girlfriend’s affinity for punctuality and structure. 

Octavia was just going to ignore it.

She didn’t confess to a fuming-but-hiding-it Venetia last night that she had cheated, nor had she acted any differently. With her cheerful I love you, bitch and her insistent flirting with anyone who spared her an appreciative glance but her fake assurances that she was Venetia’s and Venetia’s alone.

Venetia’s fingers tightened around the material of her skirt, twisting the fabric until she was positive the texture would be printed onto her fingers. Her calculating eyes swept over the people around her, dresses in shades of black and white and navy. All business suits or pencil skirts.

Her phone buzzed again, and Venetia ignored it further. 

If Octavia was going to ignore the elephant in the room, Venetia sure as hell wasn’t going to point it out. She remembered the way her stomach had dropped when she pushed the door open looking for her jacket, the way that outrage pulsed through her veins, tempered by shattering disappointment. 

If Venetia had marched in and screamed at Octavia, what would it have changed? Tavi was used to getting everything she wanted. 

So Venetia had gently shut the door and crashed into a different-- thankfully unoccupied room-- and splashed her face with the coldest tap water she could get, staring directly at the bathroom light so she wouldn’t cry. 

Venetia hated crying, hated showing any form of vulnerability. Because Venetia Verne was a sphynx, carved out of stone. Her father had always called her Sphynx, because when she was upset she tended to not show it. 

Well, Venetia’s resting bitch face was downright legendary.

If Venetia had said something, what would it have changed? Octavia, skillful with words, would have laughed and said that her girlfriend was drunk, or sleep-deprived, or both. 

And Venetia knew that she herself would have believed it. 

Octavia could paint pictures with words in a way that Venetia had never seen before-- and her mother was a supervillain. 

And that was the other reason why she was angry.

Because her mother was the White Queen, and her father’s opinion made her blood boil.

It really puts opinions into perspective when people are ignorant: if you uploaded a picture of yourself to an internet forum-- not saying that it was yourself-- and asked people to describe it, what would they say?

Venetia’s phone kept buzzing.

Her fist kept clenching.

And the spiral-- no, noose-- of her thoughts tightened. 

1.3 ‘TELLING ME TRUTHS THAT YOU KNOW ARE LIES’

“OKAY, AM I ALLOWED to be done with this?” Venetia fumed to her secondary best friend Gray, who Venetia was positive was sick of her. She only came running over to the mild Australian boy when she lost another of her friends, and ditching him once she made a new one. If Venetia wasn’t such a heartless bitch, she would have felt bad for the way she treated him.

“Yes, you are,” Gray said patiently, trailing meekly behind her.

 “Well, good,” Venetia snapped, storming through the halls of the local high school.

The rest of her dreary Saturday had come and gone in a whirl of anger-grief-bitching-stress eating, and Sunday the same. 

“Hey, Ashie!” Venetia was in a seriously pissy mood, and decided then and there that she was going to call everyone by obnoxious nicknames only that day. Asheton Shore, who adamantly went by Shore, was her first victim.

“It’s Shore!” the boy bellowed.

Behind her, Venetia heard Gray scurry behind a wall of imposing-looking seniors. “Ashie,” Venetia drawled, walking closer to him. Her skirt swished with each step she took-- while Asheton Shore’s close companion Maeren Sepia liked vintage too, Venetia always secretly knew that her style was better.

“Fruck,” Shore muttered-- no, it was Ashie, Venetia told herself firmly. 

“Come on, Venetia.” Gray was back, his eyes shifting around nervously as he carefully took her by the arm and steered her away.

“Damn it,” Venetia hissed, digging her fingers into the material of her skirt. 

“Okay, I know you’re--” Gray cringed, “bitching about the whole Octavia thing, but--”

“You can say the word bitch, Gray.”

“I don’t want to call you a bitch, Ven.”

“Oh my fucking god, Gray. When you think of the word bitch you should think of my face.”

“I don’t like cursing.”

“Fuck that.”

“I don’t like you.”

“Right back at you, Gray.”

“You’re such a bitch.”

“Thanks.”

Venetia huffed; Gray bit his lip, sighing. Yes, he was very much done with Venetia and her bullshit. Venetia herself was done with Venetia and her bullshit. 

Like Ashie, Gray went exclusively by his last name. Then again, when you had a name like Devlin-Tibereus, you wanted to purge that name from your memory. And ‘Asheton’ didn’t even seem so bad if you had the misfortune of being named Devlin-Tiberius Gray-- the Second.

And no, Venetia was not allowed to call him Take Two.

“Come on, we’re going to be late to class.” Gray was tugging at her sleeve insistently. Sometimes Venetia thought of him as an insistent-yet-adorable puppy, the kind that was a total sweetheart until they gave up and peed on your carpet.

“I wanna ditch,” muttered Venetia, who was very acutely aware that Octavia would be attending the same class. 

And even though Venetia spent a weekend moping around mooching off of Octavia’s Netflix and eating half-melted ice cream, ghosting Octavia when she tried to call, and doing everything except think about Octavia-- which was a form of thinking about it-- she wasn’t ready to face her. 

At all. 

Gray blew out a breath-- yes, he was very, very sick of her already.

“Let’s ditch.” Gray said suddenly, planting his feet and nearly throwing Venetia off-balance. 

Venetia gaped. “Where the fuck is Gray and what did you do with him, Take Two?”

“I am not take two! Ven, how many times do I have to tell you? Come on, let’s ditch.”

“You’re finally speaking sense, Gray.” Venetia patted his back appreciatively as they blew past the classroom they were supposed to be in and towards the exit. “About time.”

Gray smiled, flashing his elusive dimples. “No shit.”

1.4 ‘YEAH, YOU THINK YOU’RE FUNNY, RIGHT?’

“SO,” VENETIA SAID LAMELY, her feet dragging against the dusty pavement as she and Gray trudged away from the school, casting furtive looks over their shoulders to make sure that they weren’t being followed. “How’s Teddy? Do people still get to call her Taffy?”

“Taffy’s fine,” Gray said, and didn’t elaborate. Venetia didn’t press-- she knew she was already pressing her luck with her friend-- if Gray could even call her that-- by dragging him with her.

Teddy-- or Theodosia-Amélie Frances Gray-- was Gray’s little sister, who was affectionately called ‘Taffy’ by her close friends and family. Venetia wasn’t sure if she fell in that category, but like most only children, she had a fascination with siblings.

Like how both Gray and Teddy had the same smile and mousy hair and dimples, but they shared different things with their parents, like how Gray and his mother had the same nose but Teddy had the same pattern of freckles across her cheeks.

“That’s nice. Where do you want to go, coffee?” Venetia asked, and suddenly laughed. Out here there was no Octavia, no pressure, no teachers breathing down her neck as she struggled through trigonometry. 

Gray’s elusive dimples flashed. “Coffee sounds nice-- as does the idea of ditching, honestly-- and you can rant to me about Octavia. You know, you shouldn’t call her Octavia or Tavi. What about Tyrell?”

“Why shouldn’t I call her Octavia?” Venetia asked, bemused. 

“I don’t know!” Gray grinned. “Maybe… I don’t know, Octavia sounds too nice. I’d say ‘call her a bitch’--”

“But I’m the bitch.” Venetia finished, mirroring Gray’s grin. She and Gray always clicked-- no matter how Venetia abandoned him or pushed him aside for her other friends-- not that she had any, which was the irony of it-- Gray was always waiting with his remarks and banter and coffee-fueled highs.

“Exactly.”

“I really am a bitch, you know. Makes you wonder how Buttercup-- I mean Tavi-- I mean Tyrell-- fell for me in the first place.”

“Eh, probably the bitchiness itself.”

“True, true.”

Gray grinned again. “I missed you-- which probably is the wrong thing to say, but hey-- Taffy tattles on me for swearing all the time, while you swear just as much--”

“More. I swear more than you, Tibe.” Venetia smirked and quirked an eyebrow, and Gray sighed. 

“I’m never going to win that argument, am I?” he asked, half smiling. 

Venetia winked-- or tried to, since she couldn’t wink to save her life-- and nudged Gray’s shoulder with her own. “Never, Take Two.”

“You know, I can call you Veni Vidi Vici.”

Venetia scowled. “My mother really had something against me naming me Venetia Lavinia, didn’t she? Veni Vinny Verne, I mean, seriously?”

Gray smiled, flashing his dimples again. “Someone’s in good spirits.”

“Just drink your damn coffee, Gray.”

“Just let us get to the damn coffee shop, Verne,” Gray mimicked her tone, his wavy hair bouncing as he walked. 

“You’re almost as annoying as,” Venetia paused to snap her fingers, “whatshisname Lock. Lochlan Ryals-- don’t some people call him Cinnamon?”

“Lock?” Gray asked, his eyes lighting up. “That’s a compliment.”

“Well, I sure didn’t mean it that way,” Venetia said dryly, her eyes trained on the coffee shop that was coming into clearer view.

“Well, time to order coffee black as my soul,” Venetia said brightly, swinging the door open and following Gray inside.

“Yeah, right,” he muttered, but he was smiling.

“I’m hilarious,” Venetia deadpanned, tossing her pin-straight hair. 

“You really do think you’re funny.”

Venetia smirked. “Yep, I think I’m funny, right?”

[frasier-crane-style]

Percy Jackson: Sea of Monsters

You ever watch a movie just because it’s fun to see a few million dollars go to recreating Greek myths and because Alexandra Daddario is a cutie? Meh.

- I guess they can’t call it Percy Jackson And The Sea of Monsters because this is cooler and more American than Harry Potter. It has a colon, like a Marvel movie!

-It’s probably a good sign when a movie starts with a bunch of characters running away from a threat and they’re a little ways away from safety, so one of them goes “I’ll hold them off!” or “I’ll lead them away!” And then they all stop to have a debate about it. Like, if you just kept going, then you all could get away. I mean, I’m not the son of even one of the crappy gods from the later God of War games, and I could figure that out.

-We go from the prologue to a war game between the various demigods, which Percy is about to win when he sees a classmate is trouble, so he just has to give up the W to help him out. Only the classmate didn’t seem to be in any real danger, he was just inconvenienced by hanging upside down for a while in a game that was about to end anyway, so Percy looks like a real dumbass for pulling a Harry Potter there.

-The fact that he only technically lost does not keep him from having a crisis of confidence and the rest of the camp from treating him like shit. Even though it’s pointed out that he saved the world in the last movie--who cares about that, he lost at flag football! I guess all that Greek god inbreeding catches up to you after a while.

-These things can only have one hypercompetent female sidekick per ensemble, so Annabeth gets demoted to being a chick (signature fighting move: getting shoved to the ground) and someone who looks a lot like Mackenzie Davis, but isn’t, gets the job, getting me all excited to make a crack about Terminator: Dark Fate but then preventing me from doing so. Thanks a lot, Leven Rambin! Enjoy your Star Wars name.

Notkenzie Davis is basically playing a female Draco Malfoy, and I’m sorry, but there’s only room for one of those in my heart.

-Now, conventional wisdom is that if one of your main characters is a cyclops, you should probably have enough of a budget to make them a cyclops all the time, but this jigga Tyson spends half the movie either with sunglasses on or with a magic spell that makes him look like he has two eyes. 

-What’s also weird is that everyone seems cool with satyrs and centaurs, but they’re racist against cyclops, particularly Annabeth--that’s her whole character arc here. On the one hand, prejudice is bad, but on the other, Alexandra Daddario is super cute and has big mommy milkers, so fuck those cyclopses. Go back to your own country!

-Anyway, they play it like Tyson’s whole thing is people being prejudiced against him, but he also seems mildly... well, there’s a word for it, but let’s put it this way... he seems less than untarded. This conveniently ambiguous disorder varies dramatically from scene to scene--at one point, he mistakes the Capitol Building for Olympus, but at another, he has encyclopedic knowledge of Greek mythology. In the end, it comes off a bit like he’s just stoned throughout the whole movie. Which probably makes him the smartest guy in the room.

-The Graeae show up to give Percy a somewhat meaningless plot coupon (I know he’s the Son of Poseidon, but he can see map coordinates? Like, literally latitude and longitude? And has there even been a character given a seemingly random string of numbers who doesn’t later figure out that they’re coordinates?). They also make an “oh no you dinnit” joke and I think it should count as a hate crime to force Yvette Nicole Brown to be in the presence of dialogue that unfunny.

-This is probably a problem with the source material, but why conflate the Golden Fleece quest with the Odyssey? They’re going after the Fleece, but they run into Charybdis, the Cyclops, Circe is name-dropped. No harpies, no skeleton armies, no Talos, no hydra. That’s just going to bug people who get anal retentive about this stuff and who else is Greek mythology for????

-You know, these things never have Greek accents, but I think I should make bingo cards of all the non-Greek accents they do have. I mean, British is a gimme, that would have to be the center spot, but in Wrath of the Titans, they have Edgar Ramirez as a Spanish-accented Ares (!) and here, Shohreh Aghdashloo voices an Oracle with an Indian accent. Man, talk about rubbing it in. (Some Southern accents also show up courtesy of some Confederate zombies, so expect riots if Disney doesn’t edit them out.)

-Said zombies also come with an ironclad/submarine, which I know was a thing, but I’m pretty sure they didn’t have recoilless rifles installed on them.

-Nathan Fillion shows up, once again typecast as the One Good Thing In This Mess. And man, if you thought Kylo Ren was a whiner for complaining about having Han Solo for a dad, the villain here is bitching about Mal Reynolds being his pop.

-In case poor Alexandra Daddario and her milkers haven’t suffered enough from being portrayed as a candyass and a racist, she gets a Disney death in the climax. The narrative has already had one with Tyson and they have a magical blanket that can heal all injuries right there, but the movie still has the audacity to milk this for a tearjerker. Like, maybe if the movie were aimed at small children, but they aged everyone up to sexy teenagers, so who’s going to fall for this? Shut up.

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

New People

Danny personally felt that he was well within his rights to be a bit weirded out by what was going on.  He was on his way to school, getting interrupted by some half-formed spider ghost with threads all over the place that he had to dodge out of the way of before he could even get close to shooting it, Tucker was freaking out and Sam was doing her best to shoot away the webs that Danny actually got caught in.  It took quite a bit of time to squish much of the bug and then get it in the thermos.  During this time, Danny got hit by its pincers and bitten, and the wound was exposed and dripping ectoplasm and some thick purple goop that he assumed was venom.   Things were the standard amount of bad.

The unusual thing was when a ghost with blue skin, pink eyes, and rippling hair that shifted colors between red, yellow and orange flew up to him and gently grabbed his arm.  And then he pulled out a cotton ball from his pocket and started dabbing Danny’s wound.  “Yikes, this is a nasty bite.  You’re Danny Phantom, right?  The bridge spirit?”

“Uh,” Danny looked down at his friends, who shrugged, weapons trained on the newcomer.  “Yeah, I’m the halfa Danny Phantom.”  The guy snorted and Danny scowled.  “What’s so funny?”

“Halfa sounds like something my son would’ve called it when he was 7.”  Once the cotton ball was soaked through it was put in a ziplock that vanished off to somewhere and a water bottle was poured over it instead, followed by a cloth.  “I’m Dr. Jason Pace.  Nice to meet you.”

Danny stared at the man while he cleaned his cut with wide eyes.  “There are ghost doctors?”  It felt like a dumb question, doctors died as much as anyone else, but with all the violent ghosts that came through it was weird to see someone who specialized in helping people.

“Death is hardly enough to keep a medic from helping people who need attention,” Jason said with a chuckle.  “When I woke up in the Infinite Realms I met this big burly werewolf in a hoodie who said he was here to take me where I’m supposed to go but he got to me late, and I thought ‘wow, psychopomps are real and they can be behind schedule.’”

“Did.  Did this werewolf happen to speak Esperanto?”

“Yeah, said his name is Wulf.  I told him that wasn’t very original and he agreed.  Then I told him that I needed to see my husband and he cut open a hole back to the living realm about two weeks after my death, and after a very passionate and emotional night, I headed back into work and just sorta.  Kept doing what I do.”  He hummed, holding up the cloth and setting it on fire before tossing it behind him, where Danny watched it turn to ashes before it made it five feet above the ground. He swiped the purple goop with a q-tip, and then a bunch of vials of glowing liquid appeared from thin air, spinning around him in a lazy orbit.  “Poisonous and venomous ghost animals are horrors and ecto entomologists can kiss my ass if they wanna preach about preserving species.”

“What… are you doing?”

“Ah that’s what it is- you’re going to feel numb in a couple of seconds, which is perfectly normal, but then your core will start to go … well let’s just say I’m glad I got to you in time.”  One of the vials stopped, the swab burned up like the cloth, and a syringe was put into play.  “This is an antivenom.  Please don’t squirm, or this will hurt more.”  Jason pressed the needle over where a vein should’ve been, and Danny hissed at the sharp prick of pain.  Then a lollipop of all things was presented to him.  “Hope you like blueberry.”

“So, what I’m gathering is that you just wanna treat people and you came up to me cause I got bit by a spider.  I don’t remember my folks ranting about a doctor ghost tricking the people at the hospital into dastardly plans so I’m gonna guess you’re not from around here.”

“Oh, this isn’t why I came to your town of course, but yeah this is the thing I’m gonna be doing.”  The syringe needle, once removed, was disintegrated like the rest, and a bandage was stuck on Danny’s arm before his suit could reform around it.  “You should be good… and don’t worry, I don’t mess with people’s heads.  I just help people.  And yes, I know how to help bridge spirits like yourself.”  He held out a business card and gave a two-fingered salute.  “Give that a little charge if you need me.  Bye!”

They watched Jason fade from sight and Danny stared at where he’d been with wide eyes, blinking rapidly.  “What the f-”

“We need to get to school!”  Sam shouted, drawing his attention down to his best friends.  Danny dove down and scooped them both up, turning invisible and flying toward the school.  “Oh, wow, ok.”

“So that was weird, right?”

“That was really fuckin weird, yeah,” Tucker said.  “I guess it makes sense that there’d be ghost doctors, hospitals are the evilest places.”

“I’m glad he’s here,” Sam said.  “Maybe he’ll be able to help you keep up with your habit of crashing into things.”

“I don’t have a habit thank you. My enemies have a habit of yeeting me into things.  There’s a difference.”

“You can turn intangible and go through things instead of slamming into them so.”  After that fun and lovely argument, Danny almost forgot the weirdness of Dr. Pace.

 That is until Lancer introduced the class to a very tall boy with brown hair, tan, freckled skin, and pink eyes.  Pink eyes that were glowing ever so softly. “Hello class, this is Kyle Pace. He’s an exchange student from Pittsburg.”

“Hey there,” Kyle said with a wave, smiling wide enough that everyone could see his canines were much longer and too pointy to be human.  “My last school was Three Rivers so uh I’m kinda not used to this kinda school, so if I’m weird I’m sorry about that.”

“Not a problem, Kyle.”  Lancer patted the large boy on the back.  “Your classmates will be doing their best to help you adjust, I’m sure.”  No one missed the look Lancer gave them, and no one even really considered caring.  Danny, Sam and Tucker were all staring at Kyle with varying degrees of subtly. “There’s a seat between Danny Fenton and Dash Baxter over there, Mr. Pace.  I’ll make sure you get a study guide to catch you up on where we are.”

Kyle nodded and plopped down in his seat, bookbag set down next to him, and the class moved on as though this were normal.  Well, Wes was fuming at the back of the class but no one paid him any attention.  He looked like he was paying attention, and after a while, Danny decided he should do the same, but the glow in Kyle’s eyes and the way Danny’s ghost sense was stuck in his throat, almost alerting him to a ghost but not, messed up his focus even worse than a regular old attack.

When Lunch rolled around, they had a chance to actually talk about it.  “So uh, when Dr. Pace said he had a kid,” Tucker said, “Do you think he meant like after he died?”

“My ghost sense says yes, which is gross to think about, but also kind of an existential crisis going on.”  Danny pushed his food around on his platter, staring at it and through it.  “How the fuck does that even work?”

“Well if Box Lunch,” Sam said with a shudder, “Can exist then maybe… what did he call it?  Bridge Spirits?  Maybe they can happen, ya know, naturally?”

“This validates everyone who wants to fuck Phantom,” Tucker said with a mouth full of meatloaf from home.  Danny punched his arm without looking and took satisfaction in his yelp.  “I’m just sayin.”

“Swallow first, and then - novel idea - don’t say it.”

“I saw him leave algebra with Dash and Dash’s hair isn’t looking so perfectly combed right now,” Tucker said anyway, earning a kick in the shins from Sam.

Danny groaned.  “Can we talk about something else?”

The universe did not agree with their subject of discussion moving away from Kyle, however, as he strode over to their table and plopped down next to Danny.  He had a lunch box filled with clearly homemade food that looked like it was cooked by a chef compared to the lunch meat on Danny’s platter.  He tossed an arm around Danny’s shoulders and gave them all a cheerful, “Hey there!  How’re you guys doing?  I saw your spider backpack and I know appearances aren’t everything but,” he pointed at Sam with a lazy grin, “do you like snakes?”

“Uh, yes?”  Sam looked between Danny and Kyle, likely assessing how dangerous he might be.  “Just not your kind of snake.”

“Pardon?”

“People who hang out with Dash Baxter tend to be just like him.”  Sam folded her arms and scowled, and Tucker rolled his eyes.   Kyle just frowned and looked over at the A lister table, making eye contact with Dash for a moment.

“Only impression I got outta Dash was attractive when he’s not talking, what kinda guy is he?” Sam was all too eager to share that and so was Tucker.  Danny watched as Kyle’s expression grew darker while staring at Dash, eyes beginning to glow brighter until he turned back to the table and covered Tucker’s mouth.  “Aight, an asshole.  Got it. Y’all know that’s all like, illegal, right?  Someone can record him doing this shit and either call the police or threaten it.”

“I mean, we could but then the other A listers would be out for us,” Danny said.

“I dunno what the A list is supposed to be, but I’m betting it’s something really stupid, and I have ta say: can we talk about snakes now?”  Kyle stuffed food in his mouth, and then the conversation about which snakes were cuter, cooler and more dangerous began.  Danny zoned out, stretching his senses to confirm the current of ecto energy under Kyle’s skin and wondered how to bring that up.

Before Danny could ask Kyle if he was possessed or just Like That, Dash Baxter’s voice caught his ear.  “Hey, Kyle, why’re you hangin out with these losers?  You should-” that was as far as Dash got before a pink bubble appeared around him and Kyle turned around to shove the bubble.  It rolled along the floor until it bumped into the A lister table and then popped, leaving Dash to fumble into his seat.  Then Kyle turned back to the table.

“I really want a pet snake, or like even some fish, but Dad doesn’t trust me and Pop thinks that I should learn to be responsible first before I go asking for a pet.  Like, aren’t parents supposed to use pets as a test of responsibility?”

“Some parents think that,” Sam said, her salad finished and her protein shake almost done, “but it’s unfair to put all that on a kid.”

“So,” Tucker said slowly, “everyone is staring at us and I’m kinda wondering if we’re gonna talk about you putting Dash in gay baby jail.”

“Is that weird?”  Kyle raised a brow, and Danny snorted.  “I just really didn’t wanna talk to him if he’s an asshole like y’all said and the bubble popped pretty quick.”  Kyle looked around at the dead silent cafeteria, and his skin began to glow.  “Why are people starin?”

“Because you just blew your cover, ghost!”  Valerie snarled across the cafeteria, and it exploded into chatter.  Kyle flinched at the noise and a bubble appeared around the table that blocked out the noise.

“What the fuck?  What’s going on?”

“Uh, dude, they don’t know about half ghosts.”

“But you’re a bridge spirit too!”

“They don’t know that!  I’ve got a secret identity to keep!”

“I- wow, ok spider-man.  Alright.”  Kyle took a breath and dropped his shield, floating up above the crowd of teens.  “HEY!”  The crowd when slowly quiet as Kyle waved a glowing hand around to get everyone’s attention.  “MY DUDES!  Thanks. So uh, yeah, I’m not sure what y’all think I am, but I can explain pretty easy.”

“Oh I’m certain you can, ghost, but we’re not interested in your lies!”

“Excuse you, I don’t lie anymore than you do.  Anyway, when a living human and a ghost love each other very much-”

“Are you saying your mom or dad banged a ghost?!”  Dale was always so eloquent, it had Danny wondering how he had such bad grades.

“Yeah,” Kyle shrugged, hands stuffed in his pockets.  “I don’t have a Mom though, Dad and Pop just figured out that ghostly physiology is malleable and they wanted a kid.  I’m done talking about my conception now, cause that’s gross, but like, this is a basic thing to understand.”  Kyle floated back down to his seat and crossed his legs.  “I swear I heard at least five girls around here want to start a family with Phantom, and I just gotta wonder: y’all did know that’s possible right?”

Silence eerie as a horror movie washed over the cafeteria.  People processed what they’d been told and some of their minds tripped over themselves trying to do so.  Kyle turned back to Sam and started complaining about pets while chatter erupted around them all, and Danny slammed his head against the table.

[gothfoxx]

Love on a Dare prt 3

Part one Part two

Warnings: suggestive language, bullying, puns

The next day at school was pretty subdued with a portion of the students gone for their day of volunteer work and the rest still feeling dead on their feet from their day, zombies had nothing on this shuffling. And the brothers were no different, Deacon was laying with his head in Loga’s lap as said boyfriend dozed off, Roman and Virgil sat legs tangled as they shared earbuds, and Remus was snuggled up in a nest of all their coats. They had skipped lunch to take over one of the unused classrooms near the school’s drafty back side, it wasn’t too uncommon an occurrence with their group what was odd was the knock that came from the door. Roman was closest to the door so after a sigh of acceptance he popped out his side of the earbuds and went to see who it was, the others drowsily tried to listen in, reasons varying from boredom to preparing for a throw down.

“Hey Padre, what brings your golden locks to our neck of the woods?” Roman greets with all the flourish of a Shakespearean actor. Patton smiled at the enthusiasm and gestures to a large lunch cooler in his hand, “I figured you kids might need a pick-me-up, it’s just sandwiches and goldfish crackers.” He confesses as he goes to hand over the cooler only for the intention to be dismissed when Roman drags him into the class room. “Wake up sleeping cuties! Our knight in gleaming khakis has graced us with a feast!” The boisterous brunett declares at the others, Deacon barely flinches while Logan and Virgil look mildly annoyed at the sudden noise but they perk up at the promise of food. “Patty!” Remus cheers, the last of their party was struggling to detwine himself out of two messenger bags. It takes Logan stepping in but eventually all of them are sitting on desks and munching on snacks, it’s like an indoor picnic!

The topic of conversation drifts from their hodgepodge tastes in music to classes and the new teacher in home-ec to weekend plans, “And Deacon wants to watch the next episode of the series, it sounds like an interesting plot.” Logan says as he glances to Patton who is sitting across from him in the circle, “What do you have on the agenda this weekend Patton?” And the dastardly nerd had the audacity to glance oh so unsubtly at Remus, the others grinned or snickered as Pat blushed and Remus had an eyebrow off with the terrible nerd-boy(it was a stale-mate because they stopped to listen when Patton started to talk)“W-well we hadn’t talked about it yet. Guess we got sidetracked last night.” The poor flustered senior shrugged.

“Oooh? Sidetracked, ba-geez Remus you only talked to him once leave some mystery for later goblin king!” Virgil teased earning a facefull of sandwich wrapper from the freshmen and a warning nudge from his desk neighbor, “Don’t spook the new guy babe.” Roman stage whispers, his eyes alight with the same mischief as his boyfriend. Deacon faked a gag at their joking, Logan rolls his eyes, “Then I do hope you find time in the next few days, this weekend is supposed to be nice and it would be a shame to waste it, yes?” In an effort to ignore the implication of Virgil’s statement and preserve the happy mood Logan goes on to talk about the predictions of the local weather personality. Ok the nerd is Remus’ only ally, all other friendships were cancelled! He was getting as many bugs and lizards to dissect as his creepy nerd heart desired for that save.

Lunch wraps up in a slightly better tone but left them all scrambling to get to their next class, most days they would have to go separate ways but with Patton being there today Deacon had a walking companion it would seem. They got all the way to the front of the school chatting on and off before Deacon had to duck into his class, “See you kiddo, have a great day!” Patton calls as he continued his way to the entrance and out the doors. Dee hadn’t even gotten to wave back with the way the older boy sped away, it was weird but it left Dee feeling sad that the other didn’t wait a return goodbye, “Oh wow, the freakshow made friends with another creep!” Deacon sighs, he forgot that this lesson was the one he had with a bunch of idiots from middle school, “Guess since your dad left your sorry ass you must have gone looking for a new one.” They really liked bringing that up, it didn’t even sting anymore. “Why yes, I absolutely did that thing you just said because I’m so sad a human being, he even packs my lunch for me.” Deacon deadpans as he takes his seat and takes out his folder. The whispers and scorn don’t stop but they could go screw themselves, Pat was leagues above them, so what if being called kiddo had made him feel nice and the little bit of lunch they had tasted good because you could taste it was made with love? So what? He wouldn’t give these worms the pleasure of knowing that, Remus better keep this guy around.

With his classes over for the day Patton packed up the lunch cooler into the minivan and heads back home to get ready. He had a lot to do before the little ones got home, laundry was piling up, the dishes need to be unloaded, and dinner had to be started. They were running low on groceries so he would have to make a list for his next day off this week. He needed to make sure to save some money for his date, his DATE! It was so exciting to just spend an afternoon with someone his own age, he loved his kids and the ladies at work but it was hard not knowing what it was like to just be a teenager. Pat hummed with the pop song playing on the radio while he thought about how fun it had been to eat with the others and how they had included him. The song winds down as he pulls into the driveway of the and big brother mode is activated, school and friends would have to wait, he had just over 2 hours to get everything done before the kids got home and tore through it again and he couldn’t blow it all on thinking about a cute boy! Nope! But he really really wanted to, stupid responsibilities and adorable siblings with their puppy eyes, he’d just have to wait till tonight to think about Remus.

(∩｀-´)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟtag list *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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[eastertag]

@cookidoughlilac gift for @photowizard17

Easter 2020 TAG prompts

Prompt 1: The boys painting Easter eggs

Every so often, the world would come to its senses and not try anything dangerous. When this happened, the boys would sigh a breath a relief and would find activities to do as a family.

This time, their break occurred around Easter. The sun outside was shining and warm, the pool was cool and inviting, and the boys were out on the patio, sat around a garden table with eggs in front of them. There were various little pots of paint placed in the centre of the table, with plenty of brushes of varying sizes ready to be used.

Despite all the preparation, there was still one thing missing.

“Where’s dad? Is he coming out to paint Easter eggs with us?” Gordon piped up, twisting around in his seat to look for the man in question.

“Dad said he’ll be out in a minute,” Scott explained, picking up his egg and examining it carefully, “he said he’s changing into a cooler shirt.”

“Which shirt?” Gordon asked suspiciously, “Not the flamingo one, right?”

“What’s so bad about the flamingo one? I thought you liked all of those weird patterns.” Alan quipped, grinning as he gestured to the Hawaiian design his brother was wearing.

“My shirt is fashionable I’ll have you know. Dad’s shirt looks like something from the previous century. Ya know, the 1960s, or somewhere around that time.”

“I wouldn’t call your sense of style fashionable…” Scott sighed, glancing across the table to his younger siblings, “More of a fashion disaster…”

This quip earnt several good-humoured sniggers from Virgil, John and Alan. Scott, in true oldest brother fashion, simply grinned at Gordon – his own way of saying he’d won that fair and square. In response, Gordon crossed his arms and sighed, shaking his head a little.

“Would someone care to explain why Gordon has the face of an unhappy guppy?”

The brothers all spun around in their seats, instantly with bright smiles on their faces as their father walked over to the table they were all sat at. Just as predicted (or feared, if you were Gordon), Jeff sported his flamingo shirt and eased himself into a plastic chair at the head of the garden table.

“Now that I’m here, how about we start? What will you boys paint on your eggs, hm?” Jeff asked, looking to his five sons with pride and warmth.

“I’m gonna paint 3’s launch!” Alan beamed, dipping his paintbrush into the red paint closest to him.

“I’m thinking of painting the sea and the horizon, at sunset.” Gordon grinned, “Sunset is the best over the water.”

“That’s true, sunset is good,” John nodded in agreement, “But you can’t deny that seeing Earth below you is just as mesmerising. I’ll be painting that.”

“You could paint that in your sleep!” Gordon teased, “Will there be a tiny Global One on your egg as well?”

“Global One is not that close, Gordon.” Alan explained seriously before breaking into a cheeky smirk, “If it were, Captain O’Bannon would be over way more often!”

“What’s this?” Jeff asked curiously, looking between his sons.

“Oh, just John’s girlfriend—” Gordon and Alan began, grins so wide Jeff momentarily wondered if they had been replaced by Cheshire cats.

“Ridley is not my girlfriend…” John interjected with a little sigh.

“…yet!” Virgil teased, earning a glare from John, “What? All I’m saying is that it’s painfully obvious you both like each other, you might as well, what’s the phrase? Live long and get some.”

The boys at the table broke out into a thunderous laugh as John rested his head against the table in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. Gordon was laughing so hard he had to wipe a tear from his eye, and Scott dissolved into hiccups from his laughter.

In the end, though, eggs were painted; each egg beautiful, intricate, and unmistakeably unique. Jeff had fashioned a six-cup egg holder to put on his desk, and each of his son’s eggs was carefully placed inside, alongside his own.

Alan had painted Thunderbird 3 during launch, the bright red against the dark greys of the hanger, with a white plumage of smoke lining the bottom of his egg.

Gordon’s sunset egg was warm in colour, with the rich blues rippling around the egg. Virgil had helped create a rippling water effect, and it made the sunset even more stunning.

John’s Earth-from-space egg was painted completely black, except for the blue-green marble on one side of the egg. It was simple yet elegant and executed to perfection.

Virgil’s egg had the image of a piano surrounded by music notes on a completely white background. It was comforting for Jeff to know that Virgil still played after all of these years. He could still remember the tiny son playing for the family whenever they were at the ranch.

Scott had painted the clouds and the sky. It was, after all, where he had wanted to be ever since he was little. In a way, it amused Jeff how Scott was still as enthusiastic about the sky as when he was just a small boy. He was ambitious, and his hard work had paid off.

Jeff’s, by comparison, was fairly plain. On his egg was the villa with a backdrop of the jungle. It was home, and that’s where he was. Home, with his mother, sons and the people around he considered family. That was his egg, and that was the way he wanted to live for the rest of his life. With his family.

------

Prompt 2: Virgil angst

“There are 10 things you need to know.”

Scott tensed as he heard his younger brother’s grumbling voice from behind. If the sound of a voice could kill, Scott would be 6 feet under. He practically trembled as he turned on his heel, looking into the eyes of his plaid draped sibling.

“Virgil, wait, please. I can explain -”

“Number 1. I have been out all morning, up since before dawn to help those poor people in that mudslide rescue.”

“I know you were out this morning Virgil, I helped John monitor the end of the rescue after I got up.” Scott pleaded. He could tell his brother was seething just by the tone in his voice. One short intake a breath, then he could continue to try to reason with his brother. Only, Virgil had other ideas.

“Number 2. It was pouring down the entire time I was on that rescue, and I came back covered head to toe in mud. I was caked in it. It’s taken me the better part of an hour to scrub it all off!”

One breath and one step backwards – Scott was the oldest, after all, so he knew the best ways to try to calm his brother down. Virgil took a step towards Scott, not wanting to let his older brother escape before he was through with him.

“Number 3. As the main pilot of Thunderbird 2, I now have the duty of cleaning all the muck and filth out of my ship. You know, on the in case I’m called out again. I have to make sure my girl looks presentable at all times.”

“If you need help with cleaning, we can help you with that. That’s not an -”

“Number 4.”

“Virgil -”

“Number 4, Scott. We almost lost children today. But we have a duty of care to everyone, so I risked moving our position to make sure I could get them safely, whilst putting my life on the line.”

Scott needed to tread carefully. Virgil never was the angry brother, but when he was, hell could freeze over. If he said the wrong thing, his chances at landing in their medical bay with a broken nose would be high.

“Virgil, if I had known -”

“Number 5. When I got back to the island, when I had landed safely, everyone was still either asleep or relaxing. But I won’t get to relax today, not when I have already been up, and probably will have to be up until I pass out in the vague direction of my room later on tonight. Hell, maybe even tomorrow morning.”

The dance Scott found himself in with Virgil annoyed him the most. Every time he took a step back, his brother would step forward. Scott knew he deserved this, but getting chewed out by his closest friend still stung.

“Number 6. A proper breakfast consists of something sustainable, like toast, or cereal. You did not eat a sustainable breakfast.”

Scott groaned, frustrated. First his crime against Virgil, and now he was getting chewed out about his eating habits.

“Virgil, I know perfectly well what a good breakfast is but -”

“Number 7. Stop interrupting me with your excuses. They’re not working.”

Scott shifted, moving backwards and felt the legs of their father’s desk. He gulped quietly, knowing that he was not going to be able to move much further.

“Number 8. We have a policy in this house that we don’t take what doesn’t belong to us.”

“I know, but it was left on the side and I thought it was mine -”

“Number 9. These little treats only come once a year for us. We sure as hell deserve them, especially after horrible rescues like these.”

By this point, Virgil had trapped Scott between himself, and their father’s desk. Scott was practically bending back over it, still trying his best to create space that simply wasn’t there.

“Number 10.” Virgil hissed, leaning to Scott’s ear, “You don’t go near my Thorntons again, or I will make sure Grandma makes you her food creation test subject.”

With that, Virgil swiftly stood straight again, glaring down at his terrified older brother.

“You get me?”

Scott simply nodded and Virgil stepped back, letting his brother escape. He smirked to himself.

That’ll teach Scott not to eat the Easter eggs that didn’t belong to him.

----

Prompt 3: Someone finds an uninjured bunny on a rescue

“Once I’ve checked the perimeter to ensure there’s nobody else to move to the safety zone, you’ll be free to start heading back, Thunderbird Shadow.”

“Copy that, Thunderbird 1. Just shout if you need me for anything else.”

With that, Kayo headed back over to her craft, leaning against the legs to catch her breath and mull over the rescue in her head. They were lucky in a way; this rescue was considered easy for them. A textbook rescue with a textbook way of dealing with it – that is if there ever was a textbook written on what they did. The people were safe and at the end of the day, that was all that mattered.

Kayo watched the people in the safety zone with a smile. Despite the horror they had all been through, families were sitting with each other, children were playing together, and various older folk were exchanging stories about their children who had long since grown up and flown the nest. It showed just how resilient people could be.

“Thunderbird 1 to Thunderbird Shadow.” Scott called, looking down from his craft as he circled high above the safety zone, “All town residents have been accounted for. You’re free to head back whilst Virgil and I get these people to the next town over.”

“Alright Scott,” Kayo answered with a wave, “I’ll see you when you get back.”

She climbed into her ship, relaxing into the pilot seat just enough as she started up the engines. With a few practised motions, pre-flight checks were completed, and within minutes Kayo had taken to the skies, soaring high above the safety zone as she began the journey back to the island.

Kayo knew she was going to arrive at least an hour before Virgil or Scott did. Although she was tired, her brain still whirled into motion, coming up with potential ways to spend that free hour.

Perhaps a hot bath was in order. Kayo was fully aware of how her muscles ached. What better way was there to relieve the stress built up than soaking herself in a rose bubble bath? Nobody would distract her unless there was another rescue call that came in.

Then again, Kayo was hungry. Being a member of an elite rescue group meant that sometimes meals would be skipped. And Kayo had had to forgo lunch to suit up. It was unlikely that anyone would be using the kitchen at this hour, which meant she could make herself something edible.

Or maybe, just maybe, she could go and sunbathe on a pool floatie until Scott needed to land. The peace that was floating on the water, with the clouds, the sea on the horizon, and the setting sun was quite possibly one of the best things in the world she could imagine. Nothing would ever come close to being as breath-taking.

Kayo was brought out of her half daydream when a brown fluff jumped over her shoulder and onto her console. Within a second, her craft was plummeting out of the sky, with Kayo frantically trying to regain control. The brown fluff, frightened by the sudden falling sensation, bounced around and ended up on Kayo’s shoulder again, screaming into her ear.

It took Kayo several seconds of fast thinking to right her falling ship. The screaming fluff on her shoulder settled after it realised the imminent danger was over and took to nibbling on her hair.

Kayo couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. Of all the crafts that could gain a stowaway in the form of a small brown bunny, of course, it had to be hers.

[lovemesomesurveys]

“I’m going to stand on the ground like a skyscraper”

Is there a necklace that you wear all the time? No. I haven’t worn a necklace in years. How often do you wear skirts? Never. Do you enjoy baking? I used to, especially during the holidays. I haven’t done any baking the past few years, though. Do you have a large kitchen? No, it’s really small. Is anything sore on your body at the moment? Of course.

Do you like 3D movies? No. Where were you 3 hours ago? Sitting right here on my bed. Have you ever heard of Hot Chelle Rae? Yeah. I liked a couple of their songs. Do you know where Poland is? I know it’s in Europe. Are you afraid of dying? Yes. Are you wearing socks right now? Always. Do you speak your mind? I keep a lot to myself. If you found a wounded bird, what would you do? I honestly don’t know. I’ve never encountered a wounded bird. Ever rode on an elephant? No. Have you ever had braces? Yes, but not for my teeth.

“Cause I finally realize that I can’t get you off my mind”

Have you ever eaten a crayon? No. Do you like strawberries? Yeah. I haven’t had any in years, though. Wrestling or boxing? Neither. When's the last time you went to the mall? Last December. Have you ever gone Christmas Caroling? I have, actually. A few of us from the psych club I was in at my community college went caroling one year to a few different nursing homes. It was nice, they seemed to enjoy it. What song do you never get tired of? There’s numerous songs that will always be a favorite of mine. Do you have a favorite chef? No. Do you know who Travis Pastrana is? Yeah. What song pumps you up and makes you feel good? Hmm. What's bothering you right now? My back and the fact that I don’t feel well.

Favorite flavor of gum? Minty flavors. Does your school have air conditioning? How many mirrors do you have in your home? 5 that I know of for sure. That doesn’t include handheld mirrors, though. What does your wrapping paper look like for presents this year? I haven’t bought any, yet. Do you like Jay-Z? I’ve only liked a couple of his songs. However, the Linkin Park and Jay-Z collab album was/is dope.

“we’re gonna party like it’s your birthday”

What time was it 14 hours ago? 5:30PM. What's the craizest thing that happens in your hometown? Uh, high crime rates. :X Have any of your friends ever stabbed you in the back? Yes. What's your favorite city? Beachy, touristy cities throughout California. Have you ever laid on a hammock? I think I have as a kid. Who's the most famous person you met? Jamie Lee Curtis. Have you ever had a boyfriend/girlfriend stolen from you? No. Where do you want to live someday? Near the beach. I’d love to have a beach home one day. Do you like your eyes? I wish I had blue or green eyes instead. Do you wear a watch? Nope. Do you like peanut butter? Yes. Do you tan easily? If I spend a day at the beach I’ll sunburn and then it turns into a tan. That’s the only time I spend a long period of time outdoors. Do you have sensitive skin? Yes. Do you care if people smoke/drink? Not in general, no. If it becomes a problem then yes. Has anyone ever gives you roses? Nope.

“every little thing that you do, I’m amazed by you”

How many hours of sleep did you get last night? Sigh. I dozed off around 5AM and slept until 7AM and here we are now at 7:53AM. I don’t understandddd. D: I’m going to definitely attempt more sleep, but I have to call my doctor soon. Do you hate it when babies cry? If it’s loud and excessive it gets overwhelming and annoying. Would you like to get snake bites? (the piercing) Not now, but I wanted them back when I was like 16.  Would you move to a new state/country to be with the one you love? That’s one of those situations I’d have to be in to know what I’d do. It’s hard for me to even imagine cause I’ve never even been close to that before. It’s also hard for me to imagine ever moving far away from my family. I think I’d try to work something else out to be honest. Like, maybe they wouldn’t mind picking up and moving here? Why would I have to move?  What is your name? Stephanie. What do you plan on buying in the future? Christmas presents for my fam soon. Who is your favorite "That '70 Show" character? I don’t have one. I actually watched that show during its original run, but I tried again years later when I was older and couldn’t get into it. There is a mummy behind you. What do you do? Uh, run? What do you think of Miley Cyrus? I like her. Do you tend to think you are always right? Absolutely not. What was your favorite toy as a child? Barbies. I was obsessed. Do you think more about your funeral or wedding? Uh, neither.  Dinosaurs or unicorns? Unicorns, I guess. You need new jeans. Where do you go? I haven’t bought a new pair of jeans in years. I’d probably look at JCP first since that’s where I used to get them. I always found the perfect fit there. What do you think about Maroon 5? I like a lot of their music.

“someone pinch me, I must be dreaming again”

Have you ever snuck into an R-rated movie when you weren't old enough? Nah. How many Emily's do you know? I don’t know any. Have you ever slept in a tent outside? No. What's your favorite kind of Girl Scout cookie? I like all of ‘em really except for the coconut ones. Their newer cookie, Lemonades, are quite delicious. What do you hear at the moment? An ASMR video. Why do you think a lot of people left Myspace for Facebook? Facebook became cooler for some reason. I remember not wanting to make the move at all, I thought Facebook was lame lol. I just did it because everyone literally left. I don’t know about everyone else, but when it happened for me it was soon after graduating high school and Facebook was for college students, so I guess we just graduated from Myspace or something. *shrug* It’s crazy how quickly it flip flopped, though. Myspace became lame and now we all kinda laugh about it. Do you watch the Olympics? Nope. Have you ever been to Minnesota? No. What's the strangest thing you've seen on TV? Hmm. What do you miss most about elementary school? I miss being elementary school ages the most, but also school was fun back then. I liked the projects and music class and this thing called field day that we did on the last day of school every year that consisted of like relay games and whatnot. It was fun. Anything funny happen to you while you were at Wendy's? Uhh, no. I very rarely even go to Wendy’s. It’s been awhile. When's the last time you picked up a stick? I have no idea.

How often do you have camp fires? Never. I’d like to do bonfires in the fall.

“honestly, I haven’t been happy for a long time”

How long has your computer been on? Hours. Do you like chips and salsa? I used to love chips and salsa. I can’t eat spicy food anymore, though. :( Do you have any pictures of the guy you like? There’s no such guy at the moment. Ever touched a fish? I don’t think so. Maybe as a kid with my pet fish. When's the last time you uploaded pictures onto Facebook or Myspace? I uploaded a new profile picture last month on Facebook. Do you have any band-aids on right now? Nope. Ever had a blister? Yes. Not fun. Do you watch the show The Hard Times or RJ Berger? No. Have you ever voted for anything? Yeah, for elections and other smaller stuff. Do you like high top shoes? I can’t wear them cause they’re hard for me to get my foot into. Do you think those nerd glasses are cool? What are nerd glasses, exactly?

Do you own any t-shirts of your favorite band/singer? Yes. Have you ever worn a tie? No. Have you ever made dinner for someone? No, cause I don’t cook. Do you only listen to your muisc loud? No. I like to listen to it at a comfortable level. It varies, but never super loud.

“my give a damn’s busted”

Have you ever taken drama class? I actually did take two drama classes in community college. :O Shocking, I know. Have you ever rode a mechanical bull? Nooo. That would be very dangerous for me to do and I’d never even attempt it. Have you ever played on a basketball team? No. Ever stayed in a motel? Yes. What number was your jersey in high school? I didn’t have a jersey, I didn’t play any sports. Have you ever choked on something? Yes. I had one really traumatic experience that changed how I take my medicine ever since. That happened almost 10 years ago now, but ever since I’ve had to crush my pills. When I tried taking pills again not long after it happened, it literally felt like my throat was closing up every time and I was terrified of it getting lodged again. That day was really scary, my dad literally almost had to put his finger down my throat. Do you wear a belt? Nope, I only ever wear leggings. I’ve actually never worn a belt before, though. Do you have a rug in your room? No. Do you go camping during the summer? Nope. I have no interest at all in doing that. Do you carry a purse everywhere you go? Not anymore, but I used to. In most recent years it was a mini backpack. Where's your favorite place to get coffee? Honestly, I’m a basic bitch and just go to Starbucks, ha. It’s nearby and convenient and yeah. Plus, people hate on it but I actually like it. *shrug* I get really into it when they come out with their winter drinks, like they have now. I wish we had a Tim Hortons so I can see what that hype is all about. What's the last time you searched on Google? When’s the last time I searched on Google? Earlier. Which of these singers have the best voice: Katy Perry or Usher? I think they both sing well. They’re very different, you can’t really compare. What food is your weakness? Boneless garlic parm and lemon pepper wings from Wingstop. How many unread emails do you have right now? I don’t feel like checking at the moment.

[changelingvixen]

In which our awful heroine seeks gainful employment. 

 Time passed, as it tended to, and now she was in Ul’Dah, swallowing her fear before an interview.

A couple of years back she’d bitten the bullet and asked her father to send a letter to a friend in Limsa to get her signed into the Culinarians’ Guild. He’d been delighted, and to her equal delight, she’d been accepted on recommendation. No face to face interview where she could blow it, although she knew she’d have one chance. Mess up once, and she’d have no fallback to protect her. Thankfully, she could cook. It was her one major skill. And in the Culinarians’ Guild, that seemed to be all you needed. You didn’t have to be more personable than the ability to say ‘yes chef’ or ‘ready chef’ and hand over a plate of food. Perfect. She hadn’t got close to anyone, but people weren’t actively rude, either – they, like her, were there to cook and learn. It was a sort of heaven. She rented a little house in the housing district, where most of her neighbours were adventurers who were almost always out on the road and never home to give that cloyingly disappointed stare she’d had from her Gridanian neighbours by her parents’ house, and lived a quiet, dedicated life, a nun to food. She’d enjoyed it. Her old boss had let her take her favourite chocobo, Apple, as well, so she couldn’t even call herself lonely. If anything, she enjoyed the freedom. She liked the smell of the salt water and the sea breeze, the liveliness of Limsa. People watching was more varied than ever, as the world and her wife seemed to pass through its busy Aetheryte plaza. As long as she avoided the darker areas of the city, she felt fine. Her clothes were plain and serviceable but better, obviously marked her as a Culinarians’ Guild member, and people saw the clothes now, not the face, and treated her with mildly more respect, enough to now barge or ignore her, at least. Life was good – as good as it was likely to be. On weekends she’d ride Apple around the city walls and pick herbs, or walk with the ‘bo on the shoreline.

But all good things came to an end, it seemed. The owner of the house wanted it back to live in and certainly had no qualms about turfing out a plain single woman with no meaningful fixed employment. The guild was recruiting again, and she’d largely reached the end of what she could learn.

There are more jobs in Ul’Dah if you do not wish to return here, her father’s last letter had read. He’d spent enough time travelling and adventuring on the seas that he knew all the city states like the back of his hands. Take your time, there is no rush to come back. I always wondered when you’d get the old wanderlust like your dad! She didn’t have the heart to tell him it wasn’t quite wanderlust, just a search for some sense of peace. But she had a trade now, and a guild qualification, and a profession that she could wear like armour. Maybe it was worth a try. And she had Apple. The ‘bo always loved and supported her, at least.

Her heart was thundering in her chest. This no longer seemed like a good idea. Ul’Dah was full of miqo’te dancers and incredibly well dressed, wealthy people. It was clingingly hot – nothing like the fresh sea air of Limsa or the cool, earthy winds of Gridania. The entire city was sandstone coloured. The land outside was a desert. And because it was so hot, everyone wore next to no clothing, showing off their perfect bodies and flawless bronze skin.

She hated it.

Worst of all, Royse wanted to meet her face to face. Not that she hadn’t expected to meet an employer face to face at some point – obviously – she stifled a manic giggle at the thought – but she’d hoped maybe the first impression wouldn’t be…physical. She came over a lot better on paper or even via linkshell. But the woman had liked her CV and her guild recommendation letter enough to invite her, so there was that. She’d liked the idea of a cook for her entertainment venue that specialised in different styles of food, and she had worked for an Ishgardian restaurant in Limsa for a while, and even undertaken a placement in a Doman shop. She knew her stuff. She was sure of it. And she had an Official Outfit. Even if the long apron and skirt and the hat were making her sweat in the horrible heat. She considered ditching the hat, until she caught a glimpse of her hatless head in a passing market mirror, and instantly changed her mind.

She steeled her nerves and knocked on the door.

An older Roegadyn man in a doorman’s suit answered. He was holding a bucket of something that looked suspiciously like entrails and a mildly harried expression. As she’d intended, he looked not at her face but her hat.

“Ah,” he said, brightening. “The chef.”

“The chef,” she confirmed. “That’s the plan, anyway. Interview permitting.” She looked at the bucket, which he shook.

“It’s the feed for Ms Royse’s show animals,” he explained with a laugh. “Not dinner.”

“I don’t think I could make much of that,” she joked gently, and he laughed again, this time focussing on her face. She made herself keep eye contact, willing ‘competent chef’ vibes out at him as she’d done in Limsa to customers she’d had to meet, and he shrugged, letting her in. It was fine.

The inside of the building was mercifully cooler – Ul’dahn architecture had developed to keep the heat out, she assumed, hence the airy interiors and the light coloured stone. There was a front desk, a number of side rooms, and a bunch of brightly coloured posters for the Masked Carnivale, featuring the eponymous show animals, a masked man in a sharp suit with a cane and a lot of the colour blue.

“Take a seat,” offered the Roegadyn, waving at a table with a  couple of chairs. “I have to finish feeding the beasties. Ms Royse won’t be long.”

She nodded and sat, waiting for her interviewer.

[kolbisneat]

MONTHLY MEDIA: December 2019

Oof what a year! It’s been a rollercoaster and I realize I haven’t been posting much art this month. I’m heads down working on my Neverland role playing setting (out next fall, I think!) and thus it’s been quiet. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t still taken time to read and watch things and such! Here’s how I spent the month of December!

……….FILM……….

Knives Out (2019) Just incredible. It’s beautiful and subversive while still delivering on the expectations of a murder mystery. It’s one of those films that just feels like everyone was having a great time making it and I think we need more of these in the theatres. Absolutely worth checking out.

Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker (2019) You know, I just don’t think this film was for me. I saw it with a quartet and felt like the varying opinions was a  good breakdown of what worked and what didn’t. The person who grew up with Star Wars and thoroughly knows the universe loved every minute of it. Totally satisfied. The person who has maybe seen half of the 9 movies had nooooooo idea who half the original cast was and never really got a sense of what the point of the movie was. Like what was the driving thrust? Control over...the galaxy? I guess. Anyway, I don’t know if I would’ve enjoyed it more if I didn’t know all the drama outside of the actual films, but I can’t avoid that now. At its core, I think the movie tried to do too much and in doing so, didn’t do enough. It spent so much unnecessary time with old characters and it diluted the time we spent with the new cast. The action felt empty and I just don’t think I was the target audience for this movie. And that’s fine.

Noelle (2019) Very much ABC/TGIF Christmas movie vibes. The sets were fun and there were some wonderfully touching moments in there. It felt a little long and maybe that’s where editing it into a 2 hour block with commercial breaks would’ve helped.

……….TELEVISION……….

The Mandalorian (Episode 1.01 to 1.01) This is Star Wars that worked for me and hopefully future movies will follow this template aka be inspired by the iconography of the world but expand and tell light/smaller stories. It’s fun when Star Wars is fun. 

You (Episode 2.01 to 2.10) This season doesn’t ask for any more suspension of disbelief as the first season and I think that’s incredible. It’s still a little kooky, but continues to be relevant and unsettling. Great performances and a fascinating exploration of the old and new characters.

Swamp Thing (Episode 1.01 to 1.02) The casting is a little jarring (I recognize that there are real life scientists that are Hollywood handsome and beautiful, but it just feels a little boring) and I haven’t quite gotten past it. With that said, the pacing has been brisk and the effects are stellar.

……….READING……….

Dracula vs Hitler by Patrick Shean Duncan (Page 240/500) Perhaps the title and premise presents a slightly pulpier story but I’m still a big fan of what I’ve read so far. It mostly feels like a story set during the second world war with a light dose of the fantastic, and it’s great! The structure of the book follows various points of view and it really allows for a deep dive into each character’s perspective. It also does something the first Pirates of the Caribbean did well: only lightly explores the coolest character. Like Jack Sparrow (and again, only in the first movie), Dracula is a compliment to the main characters and the fact he isn’t where we spend all our time means his presence is made all the cooler. So far, so good. 

Emperor Mollusk Versus The Sinister Brain by A. Lee Martinez (Complete) Writing a hyper-intelligent conqueror as the main character is tricky in that most of the book is a breeze. The plot presents a mystery wrapped in pulpy fun, but it’s not nearly as enjoyable when the lead already solved all the problems outside of the current events. To its credit, the end gets far more interesting and sees the titular mollusk up against dire circumstances, but I’m not sure it made up for the rest of the book for me. Recommended if you want a casual adventure with giant robots and sentient plants and alien worlds, but just know that the plotting and characters stray dangerously close to Ready Player One territory.

Silver Surfer Omnibus by Dan Slott, Michael Allred, Laura Allred, and many many more (Complete) Ugh I loved this so so so much and I think Silver Surfer may be one of my new favourite characters. This run is so optimistic and big yet also deeply personal and driven by love that I just...I really felt so much when it was over. It’s sci-fi used to highlight human stories and I’m just so glad it exists.

……….AUDIO……….

Bat Out of Hell by Meatloaf (1977) Maybe it’s because my dad had this album, or maybe it’s just something about Meatloaf’s voice, but the whole thing feels like it captures what it was like being a teenage white boy in the seventies. It also feels like it captures the spirit of live as an AV or drama kid in highschool and that I can’t explain quite as well. It just tells stories of relationships in the biggest and most dramatic fashion possible and it’s fantastic.

Faster Than the Speed of Night by Bonnie Tyler (1983) Researching Meatloaf lead me to Bat out of Hell’s producer, Jim Steinman, and to this album by Bonnie Tyler. It has the big, fill-your-chest, sound and I love a song that features a children’s choir. Right from the first track you know you’re in for something bombastic and it really delivers.

……….GAMING……….

Pandemic (Zman Games) We were gifted this for Christmas and while I’ve seen it on a bunch of “Best Board Games” lists, I really wasn’t prepared for what an adventure it was! The cooperative element is a nice touch and it really does feel like you’re trying to stop an outbreak of infectious diseases. Great for small groups and also I’ve yet to “win” this game.

The Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening (Nintendo) This new style on the Switch is so freaking cute! I’m also loving the rather concise game in comparison to Breath of the Wild. Definitely going to try to get 100% but I’m doing the hard mode for my first playthrough so maybe I’m overconfident. Anyway. So cute!!!

Maze of the Blue Medusa (Satyr Press) The group continues to explore but I can see the cracks. Maybe I’m not the best Dungeon Master for a megadungeon or perhaps this group wants more of a narrative-based game; it’s just not quite clicking. I think we’ll be trying something new in 2020.

And that’s it! As always, I’d love to get your recommendos and see you in 2020!

[thecandywrites]

Orctober- Winter Formal and New Years

Ok, at the demand of absolutely no-one, I made a part 2 to my Fall Formal piece because dang it, I wanted more so I made more and this gets into my headcanons about modern orcs A LOT. LIke, A LOT. So I have the headcanon that orcs would treat the new year and then the reaping, which according to @momolady​ was in the spring, I thought (assumed) it was in the fall because, well, that’s when you usually reap your crops when you’re gardening, but whatever, I don’t care either way but those two events are some of the bigger “holidays” orcs would celebrate. And in my other headcanon that orcs LOVE SPICY FOOD. Like they would so eat jerk chicken, hot pot and well just any dish with lots of spice, lots of flavor and for me, hot pot is quitessentially like hot spicy person’s dream food. Because you eat it communally which orcs are all about their family and their clans and to me that just makes a lot of sense and please don’t think I’m trying to make any racial or ethnic slights in any way one way or another, this purely fantasy and conjecture at this point. So I started writing this at like 9pm last night and I of course- ran out of time and conciousness but it’s still the first for a few more hours and dang it, it’s gonna count. Thanks for reading. Also because I’m a lemon flavored factory there’s some smut at the end. Just...heads up. 

Orctober- Winter Formal and New Years

Even though you had graduated early and had even started your higher education to be a medical massage therapist, you returned to your highschool for the honor of going with your boyfriend, Kihro to the winter formal which coincidentally was Kihro’s also last school function because he had taken your cue of graduating early and did so himself since his on the job training also counted for credits and cashed those in so he could get a head start on working full time at the sister branch of Wright Plumbing. And ever since your last hospital stay, you and him had been rather inseparable and had been going steady. It helped that you were friends and had that to build your romantic relationship on.  

You had only started your massage school a week before and thankfully you still got to wear the dress you were going to wear to the fall formal, only this time- neither of you were really that stressed out this time around, instead both of you were so happy and excited and anyone who didn’t know you two were now an item definitely knew now and both of you felt like adults with both of you being out of highschool and in your chosen careers full time. 

“Happy to be out?” Kihro asked as you both swayed to the music on the dance floor, the rest of world falling away except for just the two of you.  

“Yes, you have no idea. I hope this is the last time we’re in this building, well besides maybe prom and maybe graduation- which I don’t know if I even want to come for those unless you wanted to go to those.” You admitted. 

“Well, now that I’m out, I really don’t want to come back just for those either unless you really wanted to go to those but I could be making money on those days instead if you didn’t want to go.” Kihro confessed. 

“Did you want to go?” Kihro asked you bluntly. 

“To Prom? I wouldn’t mind, but to graduation? Eh.” You shrugged your shoulders. “I wouldn’t mind just waiting to see where we’re at then and cross that bridge when we get there.” You offered as Kihro nodded in agreement. 

“By the way, I wanted to tell you that next month, after I turn 18 and can rent from whoever, I wanted you to come apartment shopping with me.” Kihro invited since legally orcs were considered adults at 16 and could drink and buy liquor that young and even could choose to graduate early at 16 if they had a job lined up that would give them the required credits and could even move out and rent from other orcs while others required their young ones to be 18 before they were considered adults and do all of that although more and more orcs were choosing not only to stay in school the extra two years, but get their own higher education too before they went out into the work force. 

“Aww, that’s very sweet and I would love to but you know there’s no way in hell my dad would let me go to live with you before we got married, but it would make me really happy if you had a home to bring me to if that were to ever happen, even if it’s a little one room apartment, that will allow pets because I’m not leaving home without Kelly or Duchess.” You reminded him. 

“I know, I’ve been keeping that in mind as I scope some places out, trying to keep your school and my work in mind. But the more I dance with you, the more I realize that I really, really don’t want to dance with anyone but you- for the rest of my life.” Kihro confessed before he pulled a gold bead out of his pocket and placed it in your hand and you knew enough about the orc bead culture now that you knew what this bead was and more importantly what it meant. 

Orcs gave each other beads all the time between friends and family- some of them were cheap metal or wood, or stone or semiprecious stone and there were millions of glass beads that had an array of meaning and tradition because now that everyone lived in a more “civilized” world- beads didn’t always have to be so tough that they could last through wars and raids, now they could be more delicate, intricate and beautiful and the wearer could afford to be more careful with their display. 

But gold- or any precious metal for that matter, that was reserved for very serious relationships, and usually engagements or weddings. And they kept the gold beads behind glass at the counter at the bead stores and they had levels to them, they had the cheap, flashy gold or silver plated ones with crystals and rhinestones and usually just about the time the plating would come off or tarnish- the relationship would probably fall apart and usually orc kids in elementary school or middle school bought them, but then after that, they got really simple in design, but solid gold and in your opinion- a bit more dignified and discreet and from there- then they could get crazy again, this time- real precious stones inlaid into them and could cost as much as engagement rings could and were just as varied and to orcs- just as serious as engagement rings. Your jaw dropped at how beautiful it was as you stopped dancing to look at it closer before Kihro pulled both of you off the dancefloor so you didn’t get run over as you got to look at it in better light before you realized there was beautiful pave diamonds in the delicate and intricate gold carving. He must have dropped a fortune on it as you turned it in your small delicate fingers and you could see that it was real 24 karat gold according to the stamp at the base and it was heavy, just like solid gold should be. 

“Are you- are you proposing to me?” You had to ask as you were so touched your eyes started to water but you couldn’t stop smiling. 

“Well, yes and no, yes in that this is exactly what it looks like and no in that it’s not an “engagement ring” engagement ring which when the time is right, I’ll get one for you because I don’t think that’ll fly yet at least with your parents, but think of it like a promise ring, but in a bead and it’ll hopefully remind anyone and everyone that sees it on you- that you’re at least spoken for- if you want to be.”  Kihro explained, his own heart hammering in his chest and in his ears louder than the beat to the music because the more he was around you the more hopelessly in love he fell in with you and he needed to make good on his promises to himself that he would always take care of you and protect you and do whatever it took to make you happy.  

“I definitely want to be spoken for, especially by you.” You beamed happily before you happily jumped up on your tiptoes and kissed him as he welcomed it with open arms. 

“I love you Brie,” Kihro professed as he pressed his forehead to yours as you did the same. 

“I love you too Kihro.” You mirrored, meaning every word before you had him put it with the others. One of which was actually his to signify that you two were officially dating because again in orc culture- the intended mate got a stack of their pursuers beads presented to them and the intended got to pick out their favorite and wear it in their hair and it was not unusual for them to trade beads so that most orc men wore one feminine bead or even a gender fluid or gender neutral bead with their masculine ones to show that they were in a relationship with whoever while others did the reverse with their chosen gender.  

A couple of weeks later you were at a proper New Year’s Eve party- orc style where Kihro’s family had made a feast for themselves that they brought to the clan’s Hall where everything that happened within the clan took place as you watched as all the tables had special metal pits in them to hold charcoal fire pits with a huge fire in the middle of the hall to get the briquets burning and the pots of broth and everyone brought their own feast but also gave to the clan’s “hoard” of food at the front where huge refrigerators were to keep things cold- in case anyone ran out of food or needed food or simply wanted to try something they didn’t bring and you gladly donated a few 5lb bags of shrimp to which made Kihro and his family happy and proud of you for your generosity. 

The feast signified that the next year would be even more prosperous than the last as you pigged out on dumplings and king crab since your dad had “blessed” your relationship by not arguing or making a big fuss over your gold bead and now- he made sure to send you with a huge box of king crab- which was your favorite kind of crab along with a few bags of shrimp that were the size of langoustine lobsters and smoked salmon and some crawfish along with a cooler full of beer and specialty flavored moonshine that you and your dad flavored yourselves since the Soche’s were providing everything else including chipping in to get the clan a keg for the festivities, many families doing the same so that there were just as many kegs of beer as there were families, many of them seemingly to drink their weight in beer alone. 

The Soche’s also provided all the noodles, hand made and homemade dumplings which you had come over to Kihro’s house every day for the last few days to help get everything prepped as Rhiox and Kihro were beyond pleased that you helped and because of your small nimble fingers, all the dumplings were folded beautifully, the different folds differentiating the fillings. The family also provided vegetables and beef and other meats for their family’s feast, most of them sliced thin so that it cooked in the spicy broth quickly or thick steaks cooked over charcoal fires in the tables themselves next to the hot pots since his clan’s tradition was have a huge communal hot pot gathering and cook out, but because of your delicate system, his mother made a special broth just for you that was flavorful but not nearly as spicy which you were eternally grateful for and even Kihro and his younger siblings enjoyed it and one of the traditions was that you sent the first bowl to the clan’s elders to pay homage and respect to them as they all sat at one table next to the “hoard”, none of them having to cook, but got served by the clan as a whole as you placed the bowl full of your own broth and other meats and vegitables in front of Kihro’s grandparents who were part of the clan’s elders. 

His whole clan seemed to be beyond pleased that it was Kihro who had claimed you even though Kihro was embarrassed by that and had made sure that you understood that who you were as a person was all he cared about and what family you were from didn’t have a bearing on how he felt about you which made you happy and your face hurt from smiling so much and you eventually got used to everyone coming up to congratulate you when they saw the gold bead in your hair that Kihro and Rhiox had braided your hair spectacularly just for this occasion and you were happy that you at least got a huge orc sized bib to cover your clothes because of the hands on nature of this feast and of course you were happy to drink a really good chocolate mocha caramel cream stout with your meal because orcs loved to drink- beers especially and even though you weren’t fond of beer- this one- you made an exception for and greasy spicy kisses with Kihro were especially delicious from your spot practically in his lap because the special picnic tables were huge to accommodate orcs so because of that, there was enough room on the bench itself to sit between Kihro’s legs and leaned back into him and he was able to rest his head on top of yours, careful not to get any food in your hair as he ate one handed, the other arm wrapped around your waist possessively as his dad Kidron tended to the grill part of the feast while Rhriox made sure to feed Kihro’s yonger siblings who adored you. 

Also because of your close proximity, you could feel how hard Kihro was, his cock tucked into his right pant leg as you “practiced” your effleurage and other techniques on his legs in between eating as his hand splayed over your belly under your apron sized bib that covered most of you like a blanket from your neck down as his fingertips ever so amazingly teased your slit through the fabric of your leggings and it was hard yet easy for both of you to act nonchalant and innocent and it was easy to brush off your flushed cheeks on the beer and the spice and it wasn’t until his parents and his younger siblings broke off to catch up with the other members of the clan that you and Kihro snuck away to the roof to “cool off” after he had gone to the bathroom to wash his hands extra good before he brought you up to the roof you happily got inside Kihro’s huge coat with him to stay warm in the freezing temperatures, the snow continuing to fall in big fluffly flakes, your head popping out of his collar as you literally sat on his lap this time as he sat down on one of the benches before he shoved his hand down your pants to find your still drenched pussy aching for him before he fingered you because you weren’t on any birth control but he wanted to prove that at least he could please you without his cock, even if it was just through his fingers which thankfully didn’t compromise your maidenhood as his other hand greedily grasped your breasts as he managed to kiss, lick and nip at your neck and shoulder as you plowed your head back and let it rest on his shoulder as you in turn pulled his length out and it squeezed in between your upper thighs and outer lips before it would poke out your front where your hand eagerly awaited the head to stroke it in time with your pelvis grinding the top of it and it was the closest you could get to the real thing. 

“Kihro,” you panted desperately in a hushed whisper as his touches were sending you over the moon and all you got back was a growling snarl by your ear as he playfully yet softly bit down on your shoulder as he twisted your nipple between his fingers while his other fingers pinched your nub before his middle finger dove into your center to tap and rub at your G-spot and you grinded on his hand while your own hands squeezed around his length and pinched the head, his precum completely coating your hands and dripping down to your own lap as Kihro moved his own hips in sync with yours and because you were both pressed for time because you didn’t want to get caught, it only heightened your arousal and in no time at all, you came, another keening muffuled cry of Kihro’s name inside his coat as your core constricted and fluttered around Kihro’s finger which spurned him to shoot out a load so huge you couldn’t hold it in both of your hands and you had to quickly try to throw it out of the warm cocoon of his coat onto the snow around you so it wouldn’t get on either of you before you wiped your hands off on the snow on the bench on either side of you as Kihro recovered as you felt his sweat make his chest and your back that was pressed up against him wet. 

“Damn.” He grunted before he pressed soft and sweet kisses into your neck and shoulder before he helped put you back together and get your bra back in place and your underwear and leggings back into place before he got himself put away and once you were straightened up he wrapped his arms tight around you to hug you and kiss your cheek before you turned your head to really kiss him over your shoulder. 

“I love you so much, thank you,” he thanked you earnestly. 

“I love you too, and thank you, ending this year with a bang and starting the next one off right.” You giggled before you checked the time on your phone. 

“We should get back,” you urged before he reluctantly let you go and you both had to hide the “evidence” in the rest of the snow as you made a butt print on the bench next to Kirho so that it looked like you were sitting side by side before you went down stairs, passing another couple coming into the building as they were coming out and judging by their own giddyness, were probably about to do the same or probably even more than what you and Kihro just did which made Kihro and yourself burst into laughter once you got inside to warm back up for a few minutes, all of you watching the ball drop on the huge tv’s on the inside counting down before kissing Kihro once more when it was the new year and oh so happy that it all started with a boy, asking a girl to a dance. 

[twitchesandstitches]

Commission for @alt-hammer of a Karkat/Terezi/Nepeta polyamory romance set on an AU where the trolls live on Earth and, after a year away, have returned to Karkat for a sleepover whle moving into his place and got STACKED

----

The photo lurked in a crowd of other pictures, of varying sizes; some were pretty much the same size as it, and others were a lot bigger. Still others towered over it like a very sweet tiger over a kitten, making the little photo look ridiculously tiny.

There was probably a pretty good metaphor in that, wagered Karkat Vantas.

The photo he was staring at was the absolute oldest one, taken by the Parent Trio themselves; he, Nepeta and Terezi had barely been more than larval wrigglers there, hardly popped out of their cocoons and still poking at the humans for the exotic thrill of it. He was a bit stunned by how small Nepeta and Terezi were in this one; they were barely any taller than him, Nepeta wiry, Terezi very stout, and with Karkat’s more feminine build, and the way they had always been sat Vantas-Leijon-Pyrope, there was also a sliding scale of ‘round to pointy’ horn shape. A bit inverted for body shape, but whatever.

He followed the trail of photos taken over the years. They always sat in the same way, but always kind of teasing; Nepeta bonking Karkat with her horns while Terezi had him in a headlock, for example, back when they were in middle school with their human friends. The photo passed; so did the years, and there was a common theme there. Terezi and Nepeta got bigger, and Karkat did not; circa the college years, he was sitting upon their thighs just to be in frame with them, and their large bustlines pressing into his back in a way that was very distracting and they were totally doing on purpose.

He tried not to crack a grin at the memory.

Finally he looked down at the photo in his hands, taken just that morning to celebrate Nepeta and Terezi moving in after a year away from home, establishing their careers and incidentally hitting their full adult growth, and taking their respective careers of intrepid zoologist and internal affairs agent by storm. He’d been living a pretty ordinary life, by all accounts, in technical assistance calls. Even before they left for that fateful year, and they had to continue their relationship mainly via video calls, he wondered why they stuck with him.

(‘It’s nice to come home and know it’ll always be there, nice and safe,” Terezi had said once, before kissing him on the cheek. Usually that was for teasing, but he supposed this time it meant something special.)

Karkat selected a special place of honor for the photo and placed it where it would loom over all the others, like the girls did to him. Right behind the other photos, plainly visible and the new glass still shiny on it.

On the photo, Karkat was doing his best to look stern and serious; hard to do, sitting on a chair that made you look tiny, just to get into frame. The two women were next to him, sitting in a way that accidentally (and he had doubts about it being an accident) pressed their door-breaking hips right into him; both their hips had to be almost wider than he was tall! They were a lot bigger than him, more than twice his size, and while he was small for a troll, he was still bigger than a human; they would have towered over any of the beings native to their adopted world, and even over other trolls.

In the photo, he looked kind of stunned. Kind of funny, looking it at from this angle, but he still remembered the weight of them pressing against him from both his sides and above; the sense of mass like their personal space included him too, how their bustlines had grown so large he couldn’t look them in the face if he got too close. That his horns were about level with their waists. They were just so damn big.

Their hugs were a lot more fun, though.

Nepeta, in the photo, was grinning; her thick lips framed an open smile as she hugged Karkat with one wiry arm. Shaped rather like an hourglass (huge boobs, small waist, huge hips, all corded with muscle), she was at least nine feet tall, her breasts bigger than her head and filling out the lab safe gear she was wearing. She’d still just come off her shift at the biology labs for this photo. A long tail, covered in the same thick and fluffy proto-fur as the cropped hair hanging over her face, curled around both Karkat and Terezi.

Oh boy. Terezi; he blushed at the memory. She looked too big to even fit into the frame, a big and… motherly looking troll, like a personification of the very idea of the Hot Mom everyone had a crush on. Big all over; massive boobs, a soft and plump gut hanging over her belt line, absolutely massive hips, huge thighs wider than Karkat’s whole body, and she was even taller than Nepeta to boot, at least a full head-and-shoulders more. Even sitting down, cackling up a storm and doing the neat trick of giving Karkat noogies but being a sweetie about it, she emanated a weird charisma. The tightly pressed and professional business suit of a lawyer she wore (the cleavage cut low, not because she wanted to but her boobs were just so big that low cuts popped in) seemed incongruous.

Appearances were deceptive. Terezi Pyrope and Nepeta Leijon were by far some of the most skilled, competent and smart people in the whole world, and he was still a little offended on their behalf that they wanted to spend their lives with him.

He knew them well; Karkat had been dating the two of them ever since high school; technically middle school, if you believed their parent’s interpretation of things. Multi-person relationships were not so uncommon these days, especially among trolls, and definitely after the discory of ancient troll artifacts depicting cultural touchstones of their unknown homeworld from before they had ever come to Earth; the translated notions of pansexual relationships based on different sorts of interpersonal dynamics had been an interesting one, and the discovery of it had put Aradia’s mom, Damara Sr., right in the spotlight.

She was a generous lady, bankrolling Terezi and Nepeta’s education like she had, and they had really gone places in but one year. To the law circuits, to the most prestigious laboratories in the world… and he’d been with them all the time, dating mostly by distance, over video call and e-mail, but they’d all been loyal to each other even as fame seekers came calling to earn their favors.

‘Terezi and Nep have got weird taste,’ Karkat concluded. Those two women had turned down some big stars, sticking with him. He was just the guy who kept the house for them to come home to, or so he’d thought of himself.

There was a soft motion from behind him, a sense of air being moved, and he didn’t even have to look around to know that Nepeta was standing nearby now, her tail swishing gently. He turned to face her and instantly blushed, staring back at the ground.

Nepeta’s boobs… were so… BIG. Where was her face at!? Where am I supposed to look… oh damn, that is BIG… don’t look, don’t look! BE A GENTLEMAN, YOU DENSE VAGABOND.

“Aw,” Nepeta cooed, perfectly aware of what he was thinking, and she moved over to him, bouncing enthusiastically all the while. “Come here!” She scooped him into a hug; he squeaked as he was lifted off the ground, against a much cooler body and then a lot of softness that he sank into, like a big and slightly sloshy bed. He nearly vanished into her cleavage as she hugged him, purring rumbling all around him.

And then, she kissed him on the forehead, holding him up higher to do that.

She put him down. Karkat wobbled faintly. “Are you going to keep doing that every time you see me now…?” He said weakly.

Nepeta nodded firmly. “I have to make up for lost time. I haven’t been around you for too long! Me and Terezi promised!”

Karkat felt his heart skip several beats at the thought. He felt warm and fuzzy, thinking about it. He was just a solid romantic.

But, to buisness. “Okay, we got everything ready for our official first night together as a… uh. Proper romance trio?”

Nepeta frowned. “I don’t know.” She turned her head and yelled, “TEREZI!”

“WHAT?!” Another voice bellowed from elsewhere.

“DO WE HAVE ALL THE STUFF WE NEED!?”

“I DUNNO! BRING IT HERE! MIGHT AS WELL GET EVERYTHING READY!”

Karkat nodded with a grim purpose totally inappropriate to the situation. “IT WILL BE DONE!”

“COOL, THANKS!” Terezi said. “I’LL BE DOWN, GIMME A SECOND!”

“WAIT, YOU DON’T NEED TO-” There was a loud stomping noise, as if of stars taking a very curvaceous weight they were not built for. Karkat groaned. “Never mind…”

Nepeta’s mouth worked, calculating the damages likely to ensue. As she did, her horns gouged right into the ceiling; she was just too tall for it otherwise. “Oops…!”

“Never mind! Gotta renovate this place anyhow.”

“I’m sorry!” Nepeta said anyway. “I don’t want to ruin your house! Our house! Um. Sorry!”

“...Eh. Place has been empty for a while; it’s mostly just been me here.” He froze up. He had talked about a lot of things to Nepeta and Terezi since they left and he’d stayed behind, but he’d never quite found a way to put into words the numbing sense of isolation.

He had missed Nepeta’s bone-crushing hugs, the way Terezi threw an arm around his shoulder and crushed his body to her own ithat wasn’t quite bullying. He missed their voices on the air, the sound of them singing off-key to drown out an especially annoying commercial.

(“Come on!” they’d yelled, years ago, when they had been small; Karkat had been slightly smaller, but they had been just as tiny as him, three rambunctious gremlins, their horns like a sliding scale of round to pointy.

He’d wandered over, grumpy and pouting, but he bellowed louder than either of them, and they picked up the song with him, discordant and screeching until Dad Vantas came down and promptly joined. Then he headbutted the TV and dared the kids to do the same.

He still remembered how cool Terezi and Nepeta’s hands felt on his hot blooded arms.)

“Having to get repairs done is totally worth have you guys here, full time,” he said, straying back into his usual persona.

Nepeta gave him a very knowing look that calmly indicated she wasn’t buying into his deceptions, and she smiled. “Sorry anyway. Look… I got some meat pies for us earlier. Let’s bring them up.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Karkat dropped to all fours and galloped into the kitchen, the bulk of Nepeta right behind him. She paused at the entrance and he gamely ignored the severely wrecked doorframe and the spaces that had apparently been carved out for some distinctly curvy frames much too large to fit into a Vantas-sized doorway. He walked past a trailer of crumbled plaster and glanced up to the ceiling. There was an impact point, as if of an unwary head boink-ing into the ceiling, and two wavering tears right into it, apparently scooped right out with easy force, and they went all the way to the table… and another pair going back out. They were pretty wide and, he was sure, a perfect match for Nepeta’s slightly concave horns.

He pretended it wasn’t there. No reason to make her sad.

Even so, he went to the closet and got out a little cleaning robot he’d gotten Dave to design into a crab-like shape. It swore in a very creative mash of randomized pretentious insults and obscure slang; that would have been Sollux’s part of the gift. He sent it to clean up the mess and went to get the pies.

He tried, at least. The table was built to his specifications (a little bigger than an average human, but smaller than most trolls), but the specially woven basket was almost wider around than the tables entire diameter. Filled to the brim with enormous pies that had to weigh a couple dozen pounds each, stuffed with juicy meats and savory sauces, each one nearly as big across as Karkat’s torso and promised to feed an entire family for a week. They’d probably make mouthfuls for Nepeta and Terezi, though.

“This is just a few pies, huh!?” He said, grumpily.

Nepeta grinne and patted one huge hip. “A growing girl needs lots of food to build up!”

“That’s the excuse you’re going for?”

“Yep!”

There was a loud stomping behind him, at the newly expanded doorway to the kitchen. It was both an announcement, declaration of intent to enter, and lurking beneath that, a quieter invitation.

It was a very layered noise, but that was just Terezi Pyrope all over.

Karkat turned and looked up, and up, and up some more, at an absolutely enormous teal-blood troll woman. He’d been vaguely aware that the two loves of his life had kept growing when he had just sort of petered out, and that puberty was a gift for them that never stopped giving, but it had been one thing to get a vague idea of on video call. It was totally different to see their full enormity in person.

Terezi didn’t so much move as swagger, and her hips suited a motion like that; they were so wide, testaments to absurd fertility, that she couldn’t even fit them into the doorway, and she was too tall to fit anyway. She ducked down, swinging one hip in and then the other in a surprisingly quick jerk. Her breasts heaved, pinching against the doorway, just too big to fit through so they were pushed together, as if by a rather mean-spirited push up bra. Terezi grunted with effort, heaving and struggling, her broad shoulders flexing…

Nepeta winced, covering her ears in expectation of an architectural problem. Karkat avoided further stress and just blurted out, “Oh, hell with it, just smash through!”

Terezi did so. A lot of plaster rained down, and a bit of framework crumbled around her waist as she stood up, and bonked her head into the ceiling just like Nepeta apparently had earlier. “Ow!” She ducked down again, too tall for this room. “Stupid low ceilings…” Karkat grimaced at her, and Terezi verbally backpedaled. “Uh, it’s a good low ceiling though… yeah. Your ancestors should be proud. ...I think?”

“Damn right!” Karkat retorted, mostly on reflex. It was a family joke that the house had been in the Vantas bloodline, in its various permutations, ever since trollkind had first come to Earth from wherever it was they’d originally come from. The archaeological evidence that pinned the earliest trolls at beng at least around six thousand years on Earth made the claim of owning this spit of land extremely unlikely, since at that point Karkat’s most distant ancestors had probably been crawling around central Asia with the semetic branch of humanity they would eventually be considered blood-brothers to, several continents away from this house.

It could be very hard to tell the difference between a running Vantas joke and a logical impossibility the family had nonetheless wired into their brains. Certainly Karkat’s father, Kankri, thought it was important to keep the joke going with a totally straight face.

Terezi grinned, but given how huge her boobs were, it was really hard to tell; they looked almost bigger than Karkat’s whole upper body, and projected out from Terezi’s torso like a cliff face, her t-shirt hanging loose from their contours. Her face, gorgeous as it was, had become a rare sight for him.

Terezi seemed to fill the entire kitchen, even though she wasn’t that big. She was too tall to comfortably walk into a human-sized room, and too wide (and too curvy, and too busty) to deal with ordinary doorways without breaking them, but the fact that she was probably around ten feet or so tall didn’t account for the sheer weight her presence had.

Terezi was charismatic; she could have been a leader of humans and trolls alike, and he’d eagerly followed the news accounts of her terrorizing corrupt court rooms and bureaucracies into shape. The terror of bribe-bought officials and authorities too eager to employ force or keep people controlled, Terezi came and swept the landscape like a dragon in a fantasy story, leaving behind ashes that she grew into a much better organization.

She put a hand on his shoulder, and leaned down enough so that her face was on level with his. Her thick lips brushed wetly against his mouth. “C’mon,” she murmured. “Let me gimme a hand.”

“Both of us!” Nepeta chided her. “We’re all in this, all three of us!”

“Yeah, that too.” Both women placed a hand on Karkat’s shoulders and gave him a pleasant squeezy touch. He almost fainted; after so many years of barely being in their presence, he was being spoiled terribly by them!

Terezi stood up, and lifted up the basket without any real sign of effort. Her arms were bulky, soft, and had no real definition, but he had felt her arms, and the muscles there put bridge cables to shame. He contemplated faking a swoon just so he could fall into her arms, but decided against it. She’d probably let him drop and then she would pick him up and tease him so bad.

Terezi winked at him. “Let’s get going,” she said, and stifled an odd sensation, as if of a little surge building up. Nepeta felt it too, but it was so minor, neither of them thought to say anything.

They did feel very hungry, though.

-----

Several hours passed as they got everything ready.

At last Karkat sat down on what was, to him, a mattress so thick and heavy that it could double as a very gradual bounce house. To Nepeta and Terezi, it was a comfortably thick mattress, sized up for their particularly sizes. It was stable enough, and steady enough, to support a little blanket, and all the food and drinks they wanted on a nearby tray. Approximately a dozen kegs worth of different fizzy drinks, bowls of snacks and tasty treats that Karkat could have slept inside.

The room was large, the ceiling newly renovated for the two ladies to actually be able to stand up in. Nepeta sat up and waved her arms excitedly, stretching her claws out. Terezi lounged on a small pile of blankets, rolling around and cooing. “Someone get a movie queued up,” she mumbled. “I’m feeling it~!”

Karkat, dwarfed by the two giant women, sat in their shadow and he examined a little agenda clipboard. He rifled through it. Food? Check. Drinking things? Check? Terezi and Nepeta? Very check. Karkat? HE poked himself, felt quite real, and he checked that off too.

Terezi rolled her eyes; presumably; she had been blind since birth. She left him too it and swallowed a meat pie whole, frowning at the rumbling in her belly. “Geez, I’m starving.”

“Me too!” Nepeta outdid her, gulping down two extremely large sandwiches at once, her jaws stretching to fit them in.

Karkat didn’t pay much attention to them begin to gorge, or their puzzled comments on why there were suddenly so hungry, and if he had he might have put two and two together. As it was, he selected a queue of movies for them to watch, all things they had seen together in the past as a kind of tribute to the good old days, and celebrating the new ones to come.

When he was done, Terezi and Nepeta were sitting upright, their guts rumbling very loudly. “Uh,” he said. “You two all right?”

Nepeta winced. “My tummy kinda hurts. And my boobs!” She gestured towards her heavy bustline. “It’s itchy!”

“Me too,” Terezi said. “This feels familiar.”

Nepeta nodded. “Yeah! I… oh. Oooohhh.”

Trolls have growth spurts. It was a biological thing. They usually grew gradually, but sometimes, a growth spurt hit all at once. It needed a lot of nutrition to fuel the growth, but once it hit, it was intense.

And intense it was; though it took not much more than about half a minute of furious biological activity, it seemed longer, and Karkat saw it for the first time in person. Terezi and Nepeta’s growth spurts had been big, he knew the results, but it didn’t prepare him for the sight of their overhanging t-shirts straining as their breasts abruptly swelled bigger, dozens of pounds of flesh growing on the spot!

“Eep!” Nepeta squeaked, trying to cup herself and failing. A few seamlines popped as her cleavage dove, the suddenly constraining fabric forcing a lot of new breast-flesh upwards. Her boy shorts creaked as well, in a way indicated her thighs had swelled so much the sides were touching even now, and her butt growing so much her shorts looked like a thong from the back!

Terezi sat back speculatively as her body grew in the same way as Nepeta’s, perhaps a bit more dramatically with how much larger she already was. Her boobs appeared to double in size! Already bigger than her head and upper torso, they expanded with some audible milky noises to be large enough to overflow right into Terezi’s lap, over her thighs, and even right onto the bed. Perfectly round, fabric creaking and t-shirt peeling away from all but the most awkward of her contours, so much boob that it was being pushed upwards into two hills of cleavage, rising higher than her eyes.

And she, and Nepeta, were still growing.

Eventually it petered off, with one particularly dramatic flounce from Terezi. She doubled over, nearly flopping right onto Karkat boob-first, nailing him underneath her. He sank into her new assets, and made an adorable squeaking noise.

“Oh, wow… this is a, a lot!” Nepeta said, examining herself. She turned to Karkat. “Are you okay!?”

“Yes,” Karkat said, ratherly muffled from all that Terezi on him.

Terezi leaned up and fell back down again, her increasingly gargantuan backside wobbling heavily in her pajama pants. They looked more like leggings now, though. “I’m okay, I’m fine! Just gimme a WHOA!” She overbalanced and flopped over, again, but this time NEpeta dove forward and pulled Karkat out of the splash zone.

Terezi did a thumbs up. “Nice work… ooh, this is gonna be an adjustment.”

“That was on purpose, wasn’t it,” Karkat said weakly, his body still tingling.

“The growth?” Terezi replied. “No. Landing on you?” She turned from her faceful of boob, grinning. “Maaay-be!”

Nepeta hugged him, and he fit very snugly into her expanded cleavage. It had to be going from her collar all the way to her ribs! Not as huge as Terezi’s upper body not being totally concealed, but still, that was big. Karkat sank in, and was quite content with that. “See? I told you we needed the nutrition!”

“Hmph!” He squeaked. “Let me go…!”

“Nuh uh. Make up for lost time, remember?”

Terezi snuggled over, with some difficulty; her new bust size was throwing off her balance too much. But she locked up with Nepeta, Karkat neatly pinned between them, and Terezi first kissed Nepeta between the horns, and then Karkat, her breasts pushing against Nepeta’s so that Karkat was lost in a world of giant girlfriend boobs.

“You’re sneaky,” he managed to say, too dazed to be more clever.

Both girls giggled as a movie started to play, and they hugged each other and their tiny boyfriend more enthusiastically.