#the Carlton siblings

[randomgirldraws]

Happy Birthday to my second boy, Connor! 🥳🎉

September 15, 1900

He got a little gift from his sweet Julianna. Someone who I plan to expand more on later.

Without text

[cringefailgirlfriendjohnnycage]

What do you headcanon Johnny was like growing up? I like to imagine he was shy and insecure, maybe even bullied at some point, but as he got older he got more confident and let his inner star shine!

He was canonically bullied in mk95, and cage match so it's likely he was in the game verse too (if not already canon) i imagine he also had a pretty tight curfew that was too early to really socialise. Maybe even lived a bit too far out to try.

This did not stop him from sneaking out and gwt punished when he was caught.

I also imagine him and rebecca (his sister) are twins and she was the semi popular one and he was her weird theatre kid loner brother who was so far in the closet he was in narnia.

[starfish-spencer]

Headcanon:

Shawn and Gus are having a sleepover but it's kind of a special "boy's night" thing between the two of them and they apologize for not inviting Jules. Jules respects the tradition and decides to invite Lassie to her place so they can have their own sleepover. Jules is super excited and pulls out every sleepover activity in the book:

"Let's watch a movie! I'll make popcorn!"

"Can I paint your nails?"

"Let's make friendship bracelets!"

"Let's play two truths and a lie!"

"Can I draw on your arm?"

"Let's have a pillow fight! I bet I could beat you!"

"We should make a secret friendship handshake!"

"Sooo... do you liiike anyone?"

Lassie tries to pretend that the whole thing is lame but he's never been invited to a sleepover in his life so he's secretly really happy. He eventually gives in and lets Jules style his hair and tells her about the person at the shooting range that he has a crush on.

And yes, the sleepovers become a weekly thing.

[rainbow-wolf120]

I really suggest watching flatland!!! Its highly interesting, please give it a try!

Me when the land is flat idk I’ve never watched the book

[pokedcheck]

the t6's mascot is a bear named kipling 🥹🥹

[thatgenericwriter]

The Boyfriend? || Shawn Spencer

Paring: Shawn Spencer x gn! reader

Summary: reader is Carlton's younger sibling and is secretly dating Shawn

Warnings: idk Carlton?

P.s. this is based off of a request I got from the lovely @hpxmcusworld takes place around season 1-3

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You've been keeping a major secret from the two most important people in your life and it's killing you. You've been trying to make it seem like nothing was wrong, but the truth had to come out at some point. You were just hoping that point in time would be far off in the future. Not in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner.

"Y/N stop chewing on your nails, it is very annoying." You drop your hands into your lap quickly apologizing to Carlton. You then opt to stand and start pacing around in a circle.

"Come on why are you so worried? If this guy is as great as you say he is then everything should be fine." You stop and turn to glare at Carlton who is currently cleaning his gun.

You were about to yell at him but before you could the doorbell went off. Carlton makes eye contact with you before cocking his gun and standing up.

You sprint across the living room and try to make it to the door before Carlton but you're too slow. He throws open the door and stands face to face with your boyfriend Shawn Spencer. Who was holding a pineapple with a bow on it? You decided not to question it, just happy that he actually came.

"Oh, Lassie! I'm so sorry I think I'm at the wrong apartment!" Your boyfriend looks around a little before you step out from behind Carlton and give a little wave to Shawn.

"I'm so glad you could make it!" Two things happened once you said this. One, Shawn immediately went towards you and gave you a quick peck on your lips before excitedly showing you his pineapple he picked "just for this occasion" as he quoted. And two, Carlton was figuring out 20 different ways to kill Shawn and leave no trace of his body.

Shawn had to make the situation more tense by opening his big mouth. "So what's Lassie doing here and when do I get to meet your brother?" You look between Shawn and your brother (who looks like he is about to strangle Shawn) before finally fessing up.

"Um... actually you're looking at my brother Shawn." You point to Carlton who is now cocking his gun with a murderous look on his face.

"Ha, that's a good one babe. But seriously when is he going to be here?" At this point, you have to stand between the two men as Shawn looks around cluelessly and Carlton starts raising his gun towards Shawn.

Taking a deep breath you slowly push Carlton's gun down and gently grab Shawn's face to make him look at you. "Guys I'm being so serious when I say this."

You look at both of them to make sure you're being heard. "I love both of you so much. And I don't want you to fight... At least not in front of me."

"But he..." You cut Carlton off with a sharp glare. He gulps and nods his head.

You look over at Shawn expectantly. "Hey man, I'm perfectly fine with this. It means I get to spend more time with my two favorite people in the world." He gives a flirtatious wink to Carlton. And you close your eyes with a sigh as Carlton lunges at Shawn in an attempt to strangle him.

This is going to be a long day.

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Authors note: Hey....... Um so it's been a hot second... my bad. school has been a lil bitch anyways I'm trying to write more and get through some requests that I have plz be patient with me🫣

[connectionterminated13]

Robot Charlie headcanons????????

YAY

- It took Henry a while to get each stage of robot Charlie working right. The hardest was teenage Charlie. It took him forever to get her to stop lunging forward and trying to bite random things

- She's technically classified as an agony creature since she's powered by Henry's intense suffering upon real Charlie dying but she doesn't have to feed on suffering to live since she is the robot the agony is just more of a power source.

- If she wanted to Charlie could probably bite clean through someone's arm, She has a lot of jaw strength...

- She's never been to A legitimate Doctor. Most of her health papers were either faked by aunt Jen or she was taken to some Doctor that aunt Jen could convince not to tell anyone about the fact that she's a robot girl

- Henry has baby pictures of robot Charlie when he was in the middle of building her and she was still inviting flopping around phase

- Despite her not being original Charlie John Jessica and the rest of charlie's friends love her just the same... They never knew original Charlie all they've ever known is there Charlie

- She has no soul. OK that's not completely true she doesn't have a human soul her soul is like cobbled together from memories egg and like IDK friendship?

- If Charlie got to live I'd like to think she would have tried to contact Sammy or her "mother". I think Sammy would be willing to like have some kind of sibling bond, I don't think missus Emily could ever bear to look at her though...

- The fourth closet didn't actually happen at all and Charlie survived fine after the twisted ones or like the fourth closet happened and Charlie survived and baby wasn't sexualized and both of them got to be happy the end.

- Girlie is an Fall out player and loves computer games and computers in general. Once the robot twist happens Carlton jokes a lot about her taking the PC on a date.

- Charlie spends way too much time one summer trying to figure out a way to unlock super strength like circus baby head because it'd be cool.

- She is kept up many a night by the idea of "am I the Madeline Pryor the Jean Gray..."

- 1 year she figured out how to strip off her rubber skin and was a female terminator for Halloween. She might have accidentally made Marla scream but it was chill

[embossross]

From His Mind to Hers

chapter 11 >> Chapter 12 >> masterlist

✣ Pairing: Hanma x AFAB fem!Reader

✣ Warning: 18+, minors DNI; unhealthy relationships & dark content

✣ Chapter CW: violence, discussions of torture, drugs, hanma fantasizes about anal play and ptv sex

✣ Story CWs: patient/doctor relationships; smut (oral, ptv, pta, etc.), degradation, stalking, torture (not of y/n), murder, discussions of trauma and abuse, drug use, and more

✣ Synopsis: Forced into therapy, Hanma expects to waste his time and yours, but you’re not about to let the chance of a high-profile and higher paying patient slip through your grasp. The fact that you’re both attracted to each other doesn’t hurt either.

✣ Word Count: 6k+

Hanma regrets not doing one last line to see him through tonight’s meetings. His jaw aches like the soreness of a two-day old punch, and he keeps his hands plunged into his suit pockets to cover their trembling. A little hair of the dog to ease the worst of the symptoms is just what the doctor ordered, but the nagging voice of reason in his head – an unholy blend of your voice and Kisaki’s – tells him to sober up and stay sharp.

Days of the job running him ragged have taken their toll. An hour of sleep here or there between assignments, a fitful doze in the backseat between locations, and the fortifying effects of cocaine are all that sustain him.

It will soon be well worth it. The usual irritability that comes with a cocaine hangover is nothing compared to the thrill of imagining all the delicious possibilities that await him when he confronts the Immortal Mikey.

Is it a matter of weeks or only days until their showdown? He wants Mikey to fight with the ferocity of a blood feud, but what if Mikey refuses to fight him to the death? To bring out the darkness in Mikey, Hanma can always taunt the memory of his dead siblings, maybe lay the blame for their deaths at his feet. Hanma has spent years training with fighters specializing in Muay Thai and Taekwondo in the hopes of someday facing one of Mikey’s bestial kicks. Just imagining the difference in power behind Mikey’s strikes and his usual opponents’ makes Hanma salivate. To prolong the fight, he’ll need to move strategically. Relying on his height advantage would be a mistake as Mikey can leap to nearly Hanma’s full height, so Hanma will need to hunker down to protect his core. He should get as close as possible, limit the force Mikey can draw behind each kick, deliver short, devastating punches to the organs, maybe get a grip on one of his legs to throw him off balance. Like predicting an opponent’s moves in a game of chess, Hanma wonders how Mikey will counter if Hanma pins him flat in the dirt. He’ll probably never get the chance to find out. A single direct kick from Mikey will rattle his brains. It will take superhuman powers of concentration to not lose consciousness then, to fight until the bitter end, until sweet, sweet nothing…

Rapturous, as he imagines Mikey’s potential countermoves, Hanma smiles with all his teeth at nothing.

Around him, Toman’s top brass gather around a coffee table in Kisaki’s suite on the penultimate floor of the Ritz-Carlton, waiting for tomorrow’s negotiations to begin. The atmosphere is tense. Writers would describe said tension as thick; a description Hanma finds appropriate. He likens the energy in the room to sucking in a great lungful of car exhaust and then holding it there, letting the smoke stir up the lungs and burn the eyes as you fight back the urge to choke, cough, sputter.

On the floor above, where the HKJ executives strategize and, on the floors below, where their entourages gather to get a few hours of shut eye before tomorrow’s activities begin, Hanma imagines the mood is equally warped.

Kisaki’s suite brims with the stale smell of smoke as the room’s occupants light up cigarette after cigarette before the last even has a chance to burn out. The cherries flare bright and then fade like dying stars amid the flick of titanium lighters. It is ritual, comforting, unifying. There are billions of yen at stake tomorrow. It’s the kind of money lesser men kill for, and they have done far worse than kill for a fraction of this prize.

Each man’s nerves manifest differently. From where he stands guarding the door, Hakkai switches compulsively between his cigarette and a toothpick before giving up and shoving both into his mouth on either side like a pair of mismatched fangs. Mucho fingers the knives at his side while glaring into the eyes of anyone who glances his way as if daring them to make a wrong move, reserving the worst of his ire for Smiley, newly back into the fold after his long exile – Hanma can’t guess what Kisaki was thinking allowing that – and grinning, unperturbed from his seat by the window. Kokonoi looks highly medicated where he sits on the loveseat, fidgeting with his rings and only settling when Inui places a centering hand on his shoulder.

As for Kisaki, well that is the strangest thing. Apart from a manic gleam reflecting off his glasses, Kisaki sits like an iron pillar, steady and supportive.

It is out of character. He should be pacing, glaring through his phone, like he can see beyond the screen into the heart of the device, barking at them all for breathing too loudly. The details of this deal have been meticulously ironed out over the course of months. There will be ceremonies, demonstrative displays of respect, staged misunderstandings, and finally resolution. It’s not unlike taking your school exams when you’ve already studied with the answer key. All that is needed is to show up and not tip your hand. Still, Kisaki should be nervous.

Someone knocks on the door, and for one brief moment, they all forget how to breathe.

The only men with access to the penultimate floor of the hotel tonight are already gathered here. Whoever dares knock on their door has made a fatal mistake. Yet to Hanma’s surprise, when Hakkai sees the visitor through the peephole, he nods knowingly to Kisaki, who returns the gesture, and then Hakkai opens the door.

Neither man reacts when the opening door reveals Haitani Ran, dressed in pinstripes and looking like a fucking pencil case. Hanma leaps to his feet, already fidgety hands reaching for his gun, but Kisaki nods the man inside, and Haitani closes the door behind himself. It clicks shut decisively.

“Glad to see you’ve made it, Haitani,” Kisaki greets him.

As usual, the sight of the man who has plagued his mind these last several months triggers a restless agitation in Hanma. The feeling has become a familiar one, a mix of the desire for a vicious fight that rises up whenever he sights an enemy with even halfway decent martial arts skills mixed with the enraging certainty that Haitani would see him die of something mundane like hypertension behind bars. There is no room for reactionary thinking tonight, not when his epic battle with Mikey is on the line, so Hanma swallows his impulse to attack, limits himself to a frown when Haitani waltzes right inside to stand opposite Kisaki and to Hanma’s left.

Hanma looks to Kisaki for instruction on how to react. He knows Kisaki better than anyone else living or dead. So, he knows that the grin that spreads across Kisaki’s weather-worn face signals nothing less than complete victory. Kisaki always avoids the spotlight when plotting something, sticking to the shadows, sacrificing a stooge or two, playing the double agent. If he chooses to center himself now, it signals something huge.

Kisaki begins, “Now that Haitani’s finally here, I will tell you a story. Certainly, you’ll have heard it before, the Kachi-kachi Yama, but listen carefully, and I think you’ll find much that’s applicable to what’s happened here this last year. Once there was a troublesome tanuki, who plagued a farmer’s fields. Perhaps the farmer could have lived alongside it in peace, but the tanuki was spiteful and cunning, and the farmer knew someday the tanuki would destroy the bountiful fields that he’d dedicated his life to cultivating. So, the farmer captured the tanuki, tying it to a tree and continuing about his business. He figured he could return later and kill the tanuki for his supper. That was my first mistake, I’ll admit. I am that farmer, confident that the tanuki would remain in my trap until I saw fit to gut it. Because instead of making his peace with the gods or thanking the farmer for this stay of execution, the tanuki grew rabid and vengeful. He called out to the farmer’s wife, begging to be freed. I forget that our greatest threat is not always the malice of our enemies but the stupidity of those unworthy men we call allies. The wife, a simpleton, released the tanuki, who, in thanks for her idiocy, promptly killed her. Then, he shapeshifted into her likeness and cooked the farmer a dinner of soup made from his wife’s flesh. The unsuspecting farmer shared his table with the enemy, none the wiser. Until, of course, the tanuki revealed itself and its treachery. It might have escaped justice if not for a rabbit who offered his help to the farmer, and hunted the tanuki down, and well, you know the rest. The rabbit is Haitani-san. I am the farmer. But who is the treacherous, shape-shifting tanuki?”

Theatrically, Kisaki pitches his voice down and makes heavy eye contact with each man in the room. Hanma’s brain races as he decides which man to bury beneath the weight of his suspicions, which man is marked to die. Because, though inscrutable in classic Kisaki-style, the story tells him there is a traitor in their midst, likely in this very room, and Hanma must be ready. His trigger finger itches.

“Quite the mystery…Our best clue came with the hack of Kokonoi’s computer. After all, only executives are allowed entry to that floor of the building, and despite Muto’s best efforts to compel one of the guards to snitch – and let me assure you, those efforts were remarkable in their brutality – each guard swore he didn’t let anyone else in. So, where was our clever tanuki? Hiding in plain sight?”

Kisaki nearly whispers those last words, so they all have to lean closer to hear. A rapt audience, everything Kisaki ever desired.

“The timing with the HKJ deal was suspicious, too. Someone was taking advantage of our vulnerability around the deal. I suspected Haitani, there’s no denying it, but three nights ago, he called and gifted me some critical information. Perhaps, like the simpleton wife in the story, none of our guards betrayed us. Maybe they followed orders to the letter and only let executives in.”

Everything happens very fast then.

There is rapid movement in his peripheral vision, coming from the right where Kisaki sits with the wall of windows to his back, and in the split second it takes for Hanma to draw his gun, Haitani throws a projectile past his head. Hanma knew not to trust that fucker.

A silenced gunshot shatters any remaining illusion of civility. The bullet goes wide, missing Kisaki, its intended target, by a hair’s breadth and exploding a vase.

Standing with a gun clenched in his fist, Smiley takes aim a second time.

Mucho vaults the couch, meaty fists reaching Smiley before he’s even fully cleared the obstacle. The contact throws them both off balance, and the gun falls harmlessly to the floor, where Koko is quick to pocket it. They land on the ground with a boom that rocks the furniture.

One moment Mucho is on top, and then, they roll, Smiley taking the dominant position, and then repeat. Every gun in the room trains on the wrestling duo, but there is no clean shot around Mucho’s bulk. The knives at Mucho’s waist could end the fight, but no one wants to paint the hotel with DNA, so Mucho relies on his fists, like they did in the old days, two captains of Toman, two once friends.

When Smiley’s face briefly comes into view, Hanma sees there are shreds of glass embedded there, and the meaning behind the mysterious projectile clicks into place. In the split second before Smiley could fire his gun, Haitani thew a crystal ashtray at Smiley’s head. His quick thinking saved Kisaki’s life.

As Mucho and Smiley grapple on the floor, strained grunts interrupted only occasionally by a howl of pain, they bite, aim for the groin, the eyes, anything to gain the advantage. With Mucho clocking in at easily twice Smiley’s weight, you’d think the fight would be over in a flash, but Smiley fights back with the fury of a decade fueling him. Gone are the old days when Smiley would trade blows with a carefree grin on his face, eyes screwed closed like he couldn’t be bothered to take his opponent seriously. This is life and death for him, and he knows it.

Hanma’s bloodlust sings out for him to join the fray, to test himself against the once fearsome Smiley, but there is no room between those flailing bodies, and despite Smiley’s best efforts, the fight does, inevitably, come to an end.

Delivering a winding knee to Smiley’s gut, Mucho leverages himself onto his knees, where he can wrap his arm, like an iron bar, around the other man’s throat. Both men turn bright red, one fighting to keep the chokehold and the other to break it. Staring down the barrel of his gun, Hanma watches as the power drains from Smiley’s eyes measure by measure, legs kicking helplessly before he goes limps. Inupi darts forward once he does, zip ties at the ready to restrain him. In a matter of minutes, it is over.

Typically, Hanma is the fastest to react when a threat looms but this time he was out maneuvered by Haitani and Mucho both, the way they both lunged for Smiley without a moment to take stock, like they knew who and what to suspect.

Hanma seethes.

“I think we found our tanuki,” Kisaki chuckles, signaling the second half of the night’s show, the part where he boasts in the face of his enemies. He doesn’t even turn his neck to look at Smiley, trussed up and submissive on his knees, instead addressing the group of them, “Of course, after the security breach, we fired or reassigned all of Kokonoi’s guards, which put several of them on the market. It’s only natural that several sought out Haitani’s security firm. Generously, Haitani questioned each before agreeing to hire them, asking whether they had allowed Smiley into the office, and one of them confirmed.”

“How’d he figure to ask? And while we’re at it, didn’t Smiley just get back into town when we discovered the hack? The malware was in place for months. And you had him exiled in Singapore,” Inupi asks, the first to reholster his gun and settle in for Kisaki’s victory lap.

“Ah yes, that’s why I never suspected him. I mean, Hanma had the flight logs for all international travel in and out of Tokyo-Narita. How could he have missed something so obvious?”

“He didn’t fly in or out in the last year. I checked,” Hanma snaps.

“Yes, but you’re forgetting a tanuki can shapeshift,” Haitani chimes in helpfully.

In retrospect, it’s fortunate Hanma didn’t take that last bump of cocaine because if he were high right now, he would probably throttle Haitani without any care for discretion, and then, it would be goodbye Mikey and any chance at a glorious death at their absentee leader’s hands. Instead, Hanma tries to remember all the bullshit you’ve drilled into him about mindfulness. As the hostile thoughts drift by his mind, he tries to “catch and release” them into the ether. Yes, he wants to see Haitani’s dye job ruined by congealed brown blood chunking in his hairline. He can acknowledge this desire, and then redirect his thoughts. Following your instructions, he empties his mind, pictures that pretty little plug glinting from between the cheeks of your spread ass, pictures slipping his tongue past the ring of your asshole, imagines cresting a wave twice his height and then plowing your ass on the sand afterwards.

He is surprised to discover it helps.

He doesn’t lunge for Haitani. He breathes.

“Yes, our shapeshifting tanuki,” Kisaki continues in the meantime, nodding approvingly at Haitani. “You see, Haitani learned we were looking into the flight logs and decided to do his own digging. What he found painted a clear picture. According to the logs on January third, Kawata Souya flew out of Tokyo to Singapore. He stayed for only three days before flying to Copenhagen, where he stayed for less than twelve hours before flying back to Tokyo. There, he remained forty-eight hours before flying back to Singapore. This time, he stayed less than eight hours before flying back to Tokyo. Now, what does all this spontaneous travel tell you?”

Kokonoi groans, “Fuck, they swapped places. Angry flew to Singapore, then gave his passport to Smiley. From there, he went to Copenhagen to put some distance between the flight paths so it would be less obvious. The newer guards who didn’t know Smiley was exiled probably waved him right into my office, and then he flew back to Singapore to trade places with Angry once again.”

“My mistake as the farmer was to let the rodent live long enough to become a problem,” Kisaki admits generously.

Throughout all of this, Smiley hangs limp in Mucho’s meaty arms. One wraps around Smiley’s neck, restricting his breathing, and the other pins his ziptied arms to his sides. There is disgust in Smiley’s eyes as they discuss him, but they spark to an incandescent rage when they mention his brother. They are not the eyes of a defeated man.

“So what happens now?” Smiley croaks, voice a scratch from what is surely a bruised voice box.

Kisaki bothers to turn and acknowledge Smiley for the first time. “You must know we kill you now.”

“What you’re gonna blow my brains out in the penthouse of the Ritz? Gonna drag my body through the elevator down four dozen floors? And then out through the front door for the whole world to see? Not even you have the clout to pull that off. And I’m not gonna make it easy for you to drag me out of here to my execution. I’ll fight you every step, scream and shout so loud the police will be down on your heads. Not just your heads either. The HKJ’s too. How do you think that’ll go over?” Smiley sneers, that can’t-be-bothered grin that always masked his emotions returning in a blast from the past that for one moment throws Hanma back a decade to what he always considers the best years of his life.

Smiley timed this well, Hanma admits. Given enough space, he might chop Smiley’s body into a dozen pieces and cart them out one-by-one, but disposing of a body that way is too messy. For the first time, Kisaki’s aura of well-earned triumph dims as Smiley backs them into a corner.

A tanuki is too flattering a comparison. Smiley better resembles a scheming, smiling rat.

“If I may interrupt, Kisaki-san. I have a solution,” Ran pipes up, solicitous, falsely humble.

“I’m all ears.”

“I hope you can forgive me, but I took it upon myself to prepare for the worst-case scenario before today. Right now, my brother is waiting in one of our safehouses with a few of our most trusted men and Kawata Souya. He picked him up earlier this evening.”

Hanma has seen men confront their worst fears too many times to count. Many buckle, going semi-comatose under the weight of it. Others bargain, plead, pray to gods that never cared at all. His favorites fight with everything they have, like they might bend the heavens to their will. Smiley, of course, lands in the latter category.

He howls and jabs both of his elbows into Mucho’s gut, straining forward like he might reach his brother. To keep him in place, Mucho picks him clean off the floor with an arm around his neck, cutting oxygen off until he realizes the futility of it all. It takes minutes for Smiley to accept the situation, and even then, his eyes roll like a feral animal biding its time before escaping its cage.

Kisaki beams. “Excellent thinking, Haitani.”

“I know what a man would do for his younger brother,” Haitani demurs. Watching him play the sycophant turns Hanma’s stomach, but Kisaki eats the performance up with relish.

“Well, either way, it was good thinking,” Kisaki says approvingly, and then to Smiley, “Returning to your earlier question, what happens now is you walk out of here of your own volition, and you don’t so much as signal with your fucking eyes that you’re in trouble or your baby brother dies. Slowly.”

“You’re going to kill him either way,” Smiley whispers.

Head hung low, all Hanma can see of Smiley is the mess of saffron curls. The tiniest sliver of pale white scalp peaks through. Had he remained quiet and reintegrated into Toman, or parted ways entirely, Smiley’s life would likely have still ended on the wrong side of a smoking gun. Kisaki had proven methodical in eliminating all the original leaders of Toman, but somehow the Kawata brothers had survived this long. Maybe if Smiley grinned and bore the death and imprisonment of all his friends, the same way he could smile through so much, he and his brother would have made it to thirty. Who knows?

“Your brother will survive the night and walk away from this. You have my word,” Haitani says. It is a pardon he has no authority to grant yet the quiet sincerity in his tone compels them all to keep their silence. Even Kisaki does not object.

The odds of either brother surviving the night are abysmal. And yet, the shadow of Haitani’s fraternal mercy is Smiley’s best and only hope, so he nods his acquiescence.

Hakkai, Mucho, and Inui all escort Smiley to the elevators. They take no chances at his escape. He will be tortured for information, broken until he relinquishes his accomplices and all the intel he stole from Toman, and then, finally, buried under wet concrete.

The last man standing from Toman’s old order is condemned to death. It is the end of an era.

--

Thirty-six hours later, the deal is done.

A breeze cools the nape of his neck where a day’s worth of sweat has collected as Hanma steps through the revolving doors and into the world for the first time in what feels like an age.

Negotiations wrapped hours ago after endless rounds of bowing that left his lower back aching and some last-minute concessions – new negotiations around when in the supply chain possession of the drugs and, therefore liability, would pass hands, a few negotiated favors leveraging the HKJ’s contacts in the CCP– so that both sides could walk away satisfied. Long after the HKJ returned to their separate floor, Kisaki kept the leaders of Toman behind to indulge in many long-winded speeches that celebrated his own genius as well as some generously poured champagne. The festive mood infected even Hanma, and he frankly didn’t give a shit about the deal one way or another beyond his promised reward of Mikey.

Still, as much as Hanma can appreciate a delicious power play or a barbed bit of double-speak, both of which were amply supplied during the negotiations, he is ultimately a man of the physical world, meant to touch, taste, fuck. He needed to get the hell out of there.

Smiling to himself at how scandalized you look whenever he mentions mixing drugs with his medications, Hanma does a celebratory bump right there in the street. The welcome headrush brings new reserves of energy, and Hanma thinks to himself that he should swing by your apartment later to keep the good times going.

He won’t admit as much out loud, but, in truth, your mindfulness techniques were a lifesaver during negotiations. The HKJ thugs there as security were delectable. A hearty temptation, all corded muscle, cauliflower ear, and thrice-broken noses. The self-sabotaging impulse to pick a fight to test their skill would beckon, but with one eye turned mindfully inward, Hanma could recognize the impulse for what it was and turn instead to one of two delicious fantasies to distract him.

In the first, he is pinned down by the weight of Mikey’s slight body, accepting punch after brutal punch to the face, the copper tang of blood hot on his tongue. In the second, your fingers curl in the sheets of your bed – the very bed you’ve guarded from him out of some bourgeois loyalty to your boyfriend – as you throw it back on his dick, doing all the work, so he can watch the jiggle of your ass each time you slam yourself balls deep. Whichever fantasy he chose, the effect was always the same: hard cock, deep breaths, and the stress of boredom dripping harmlessly from his distracted brain.

You deserve a special reward as thanks…

As he waits on the otherwise empty street for one of Toman’s lackeys to swing his Bentley around from where it’s been parked in a garage downtown, Hanma hears footsteps, the tap of Italian loafers behind him and knows it’s Haitani before he even turns.

“Tonight went well. Some congratulations are in order,” Haitani says.

Hanma grunts, briefly wonders if he can antagonize Haitani into squaring up, and then, discards the idea. No matter how much he pokes and prods, Haitani won’t play with him. A shame as Haitani would make a solid opponent excepting his character. The fundamental difference between the two men has always been that where Hanma craves the violence, Haitani wields it as a tool in the pursuit of what he really longs for, the trappings of their lifestyle: the money, the prestige, the power. Haitani will never consent to a fight without running through a league of calculations, and even then, he’s more likely to backstab Hanma at the last second.

“I was impressed by your team’s due diligence. I don’t think you could have brokered a better deal,” Haitani says.

“Yeah yeah, Kokonoi’s a genius or whatever,” Hanma agrees tonelessly.

“Kisaki-san as well.”

More of the same. Once negotiations wrapped, Haitani clung to Kisaki’s side, playing the supplicant and making sure his glass never emptied. Watching the two men bowed together, Kisaki eating up Haitani’s deference, irritated Hanma. One might expect that cleared of all wrongdoing against Toman, Hanma might forgive and forget, but truthfully, he never cared one way or another about Haitani’s treachery.

He just doesn’t like the slick fuck.

Never did.

An acrid aftertaste from the cocaine drizzles down the back of his throat, coating his words and mind in a kind of chemical haze. There is no sign of his Bentley. Whichever grunt was tasked with picking it up is in for an earful for keeping him waiting.

“I’m grateful that I learned of the HKJ deal when I did. I’ve been looking for the opportunity to do Toman a service for years. There have been favors here or there, of course, but something substantial like this is rare. Kisaki-san is so grateful for my help. In fact, Hanma, why don’t you ask me just how grateful Kisaki-san is for my help?”

The open insinuation in his voice is enough to pique Hanma’s interest, turning around to face the other man before he can think better of it. Haitani isn’t gloating any more than he does on an average day, walking around like a god among men, but Hanma knows this is yet another victory speech. He spits a gob of saliva right at his feet.

“With you-know-who out, there’s a new opening at the top, and Kisaki-san’s asked me to fill it,” Haitani purrs.

Hanma clenches his teeth.

The Haitanis’ security business will be an asset for Toman, bringing in new resources and intel on a high-status client list. Both brothers will fit into the more polished, clinical Toman that Kisaki has nurtured, one where money wins out over brotherhood. It is a natural choice, and no one will deny that Haitani earned this.

A ghost of a smile taunts Hanma, like Haitani is just waiting for him to explode, and for the first time, Hanma is sure that the enmity between them is mutual. Maybe Haitani considers Toman neither enemy nor prey, but there is malice there towards Hanma. Haitani must know and enjoy how seeing him every day, forced to play nice, will sting for Hanma like a fresh cut each time. It is with the sadistic glee of a mad scientist, playing out his twisted experiments and documenting his subjects’ reactions, that Haitani watches him now.

In this, however, the two men can be dreadfully similar. Hanma won’t grant him the satisfaction of a reaction, schools his already blank expression and waits for the next move.

“It’s a day for gratitude all around, really, which is why I wanted to thank you. I never would have known about the HKJ deal without your help. So, thank you, Hanma.”

“What are you on about?” Hanma grits out.

“Well, really, I owe it all to your girl – you know, that tight-ass doctor you’ve been hanging around – but if you hadn’t told her in the first place, she never could have clued me in. And then, where would I be? Watching from the sidelines? So, I figure I owe you a thank you as well.”

A zip of adrenaline lights up Hanma’s synapses, the effect stronger than a bump of cocaine. It feels like his very pores have been blown wide open. He smells the musk of Haitani’s cologne. The wind alights on his skin like a lash. Sensitive to the world, he notices everything. He is wide the fuck awake.

You told Haitani about the HKJ deal.

He knows this in the way you recognize a path once taken while drunk. Returning in the bright, sobering light of day, the road appears unfamiliar at first, but then as you retread those previously taken steps, your feet know to avoid the potholes and loose tiles, which turns to take and those to avoid, like unlocking a hidden piece of knowledge or a muscle memory. Hanma recognizes your betrayal for what it is immediately, perhaps always knew deep down.

Why stop at the HKJ deal? You probably told Haitani everything Hanma ever shared with you. What did he leak during cozy pillow talk, enjoying how the details of his job could impress or frighten you in equal measure?

Come to think of it…how did Haitani know he was investigating the flights out of Tokyo-Narita in the first place? Maybe three or four weeks ago, you mentioned that you’d never traveled abroad. The conversation tilted, as it so often did with the two of you, and he ended up telling you that he was monitoring international flights, making you one of only five people in the world who knew about it: that shit for brains who worked for the airport, Tanigawa, Kisaki, Hakkai, Hanma, and…you. And now that he really thinks about it, didn’t you ask quite a few questions about Haitani, pushed where you would normally let the conversation flow naturally, like you needed the answers?

Months of banter, games, and, Hanma will admit it, intimacy between you shatters as Hanma recategorizes everything you are to him, dragging you from the special position he created just for you in his brain – something of a coveted and cosseted pet and trusted advisor in turns – into the one he reserves for all of Toman’s adversaries. It is not a classification you will enjoy, not when you’ve made a fool of him and all the violence that inevitably entails.

Much louder, brimming below these thoughts, Hanma’s mind cascades through a montage of impressions, too chaotic to capture in words or phrases, something pre-language and true. These insubstantial impressions roar, pounce, spear, inflame, attack. They sabotage his every attempt to think through his next actions, to plan or reason. All is made impossible against the backdrop of his disordered inner mindscape.

Adding Haitani’s voice to the mix only makes the noise worse.

“I was surprised you’d see a shrink. Oh! But don’t worry, I’ll keep that between the two of us. I’m sure you have your reasons, and it would do you no favors if all the men found out. And, she is cute enough. I’ll admit, I started to see the appeal around the third time I met her. I won’t pretend she’s my type, but I saw a glimmer of something then. A little fear maybe behind the dead eyes? I could see you liking that sort of thing, though as your therapist, she probably shouldn’t indulge your sexual sadism,” Ran muses. “Regardless, you’ve kept her around so long though, it makes me want to find out her appeal for myself, and after putting up with you for so long, the woman certainly deserves to be shown a good time…”

A hand decked in rings on your thigh, dimpling the flesh. Wet lips mouthing along the curve of your jaw until they reach the special spot to the left of your chin, the one that makes you shake. Eyes brimming with tears while you take a cock too big for your unstretched hole.

Fleeting impressions. Imaginings. He is not the man in any of them.

Haitani is really starting to piss him off.

“You gonna sing like this if the cops ever bust you?” Hanma snaps. “Oh, Officer, let me tell you every detail of my master plan, let me give you a list of names. Or, you just scared as shit of me?”

“Can’t I want to do a favor to my new brother?”

“You’re acting like you want me to break those shiny new veneers of yours. But I don’t know what you actually want.”

As if to show those shiny new teeth off, Haitani smiles. There are no visible stars under the haze of smog, but Roppongi is well-lit even in the depths of the night, and Hanma can make out each gleaming one of them.

“See, I wouldn’t normally share my plans, but I don’t think it matters one way or another with you. You’ll just sit there with a thumb up your ass. So, cards on the table? You can expect a lot more of this. You’re the right-hand off the boss. I want your job. And, I’m gonna get it.”

In the space of a blink, Hanma unholsters his AMT Hardballer and jabs the muzzle into Haitani’s firm stomach. The other man grunts but doesn’t react further. Smart. Because Hanma is tempted to end it all here. His position as Kisaki’s righthand is cemented from a decade of partnership, not the kind of role you resign. Once you climb to the top of the mountain that is Toman, the only way down is a long fall, ending in a broken neck. If Haitani is gunning for his job, he’ll do whatever it takes to see Hanma shot through the back of the head execution style or worse, rotting away in a prison cell.

He won’t go out that way.

He won’t.

He’ll blow a hole clean through Haitani’s stomach first. Gut anyone who ever even thought about helping the bastard.

He’ll kill them all.

“We’re caught on CCTV footage, Hanma. Might want to put that away unless you want a gun charge,” Haitani warns lowly.

They’re directly outside the lobby of Midtown Tower in the center of fucking Roppongi, of course there are cameras capturing them from all angles. No one will check the footage unless he leaves a corpse to clean up.

His trigger finger twitches anyway. It would be so easy to end this all here, fuck the consequences. But then, Hanma remembers Mikey and the brilliant swan song that awaits him when he dies in a blaze of glory. If he murders Haitani here and now, Kisaki will renege on their deal, and Hanma will surely go to prison for at least twenty years. Whereas in the end, it doesn’t matter what Haitani does either way. Hanma will be dead at Mikey’s hands in only a few weeks. Once he’s in the ground, Haitani can have his fucking job.

Hanma starts to laugh, little giggles that escalate into full-blown peals of laughter that shake the gun buried in Haitani’s gut.

“You know what? Do whatever you want, motherfucker! I’m gonna burn either way! Gotta hot date with the devil coming up, ya know? Tell you what, if I somehow survive, beat the devil and live to see another day, that’ll just mean I’m immortal. So, in that case, you’re welcome to try me. Just be sure to make it interesting.”

Haitani looks more alarmed now than when Hanma first drew on him as if reconsidering for the first time that Hanma may be unstable in a way suits like Haitani can never quite figure. It only makes Hanma laugh harder.

Still laughing, Hanma reholsters his gun, thinking his one regret when he dies soon might be that he never got the chance to make Haitani eat a curb.

Knowing that Haitani must have paid off his driver to not show, Hanma turns to walk home on foot. He takes off, right down the middle of the street at a stroll, whistling a happy tune as he goes, knowing Haitani will watch his every step with that same half-frightened look that asks if he has horribly overestimated Hanma’s grip on sanity and whether that will pose a problem down the line. A stranger walking past Hanma then would see nothing but a happy-go-lucky guy, making the most of the what the city has to offer on a late night.

Inside, the tempest of impressions continues, whipping up to a frothing storm of violence and fury. He is going to die at Mikey’s hand, but before that happens, he has some business to take care of.

He walks in the direction of your neighborhood.

A/N: 100 bonus points to whoever can figure out the major clue from chapter 7 that in retrospect hints at Smiley and Angry maybe having switched places.

also, writing this, i kept humming that 'oh no' tiktok sound and 'let the bodies hit the floor.' they seem appropriate...

[katiekatdragon27]

To my other followers: I am so sorry.

To my two new followers: *comes out with silver platter* Here! Eat uuuuupppp~~~~

This! *slams fists on table then slams face on table* This GODFORSAKEN MOVIE HAS ALTERED MY BRAIN CHEMISTRY I'M NOT JOKING.

I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT KIND OF "RECLAIMING MY CHILDHOOD TRAUMA" MINDEST MY BRAIN WAS ON BUT THE OBSESSION WITH THIS PIECE IF MEDIA IS ACTUALLY SCARING ME-

Most stuff below. Lots of rambling.

So. Flatland. It's a good book, and an amazing f*cking movie. I love this goddamned movie so much bro. It's not even like a "good" good movie I just really like it for no reason.

Some lore I have with this book, since I want to talk about it.

I watched this movie the first time when I was in 6th grade. It scared me so bad that I had nightmares about it for a week. I hated the style of the 2D world and was so scared about the amount of murder that I psychologically blocked it all out.

Now in the present (as an adult in college), my friend brought up the movie for us to watch during a movie night. I was way more excited to watch it than I thought I would be (cuz of my previous encounter with it and wanting to "reclaim" the movie), but we only got 4 minutes in before my other friends got bored and decided to watch something else. I sorta dropped it for a bit after that before @/goosesartblog posted their ONE - Flatland crossover and 10000 emotions flew over me. I then proceeded to watch it with my siblings, who also did not care about the movie.

Now, it has become a lifestyle of watching it every single day. Every. Single. Day. It's bad. I can't stop.

And it's on YouTube for free.

AND the book is on YouTube as an audiobook AND the actual PDF book is just there to read.

PLEASE. I NEED PEOPLE TO NOT BE NORMAL WITH ME.

Anyways, actual relevant doodles. These characters are A. Sphere (the objectively best character idgaf) and Carlton Cube(?). I saw something about them being John-locked and thought it was really funny. Also, I saw a meme about the two getting Starbucks or smth during the week I lingered, so here lol.

Some more doodles of concept stuff. Actual A. Square art and some style testing, Hex doodle, and more A. Sphere bc I love him so much. His ass is gay idk if you think I'm wrong just look at him.

Silly little idea I had about if Spherious *(the sphere from the other Flatland movie) and A. Sphere were in the same universe. It's unlikely, but I think Spherious would be the Messiah of 2000 and A. Sphere is the Messiah of 3000. They met at some point where their lives overlapped, and Spherious tried to give A. Sphere advice, to which he was completely ignored. A. Sphere's a bratty teen here and Spherious is a grandpa. They treat their apostles very differently.

Another silly idea I had was that when A. Sphere "died", he was actually picked up by a 4D being named A. Tesseract. He stays with her until the war is over in his dimension, and he is able to see A. Square one last time during his hallucination (that's why A. Sphere's innards are seen). Also also, A. Sphere learns how to treat people better b/c of A. Tesseract and the 4th dimensions' more liberal views on expression and gender. Development for the stupid shiny solid.

Thank you for looking at this mindless rambling. If anyone knows of more Flatland media, please send it to me I'm starving. Expect more, and have a great day :)

[pineapple-psychic]

i made a pjo/psych crossover

thanks to @autism-criminal for enabling me

Shawn Spencer, son of Hecate

henry and hecate hooked up once; thinking maddie finds out and its part of the reason for the divorce

this means shawn has real psychic powers!! yay!!

because hes a child of a titan, not a god, less monsters came after him so he was doing good until 18, when he ran away

him and gus looked out for each other :] bc of course henry cant see the monsters (and didnt know abt camp halfblood)

Burton 'Gus' Guster, son of Apollo

because pharmaceuticals and the god of medicine

absolutely HATES snakes. worse than dead bodies

i think itd be really funny to give him both the natural healing and the plagues powers because that would give him such a crisis

gus tries to go to college, but without the additional protection its more dangerous so he doesnt finish before asking shawn for help

shawn tells him abt this camp he found and whoo! shawngus in new york! (ik santa barbara is The City on Psych but listen theyre in pjo now)

Carlton Lassiter, son of Ares

this is mostly because of his obsession with guns, landmines, and the civil war

basically the only ares kid who gets along with athena kids. probably wishes he was one

and of course he HATES magic because it doesnt make sense so bam instant rivalry with shawn

part of the reason he doesnt get along with his mother is because of being lied to about his parentage, cause his stepdad is a dick and he wouldve been glad to know they werent related

Juliet O'Hara, daughter of Athena

pissed off at her parentage. she loves athena but she hates knowing that shes related to frank and not her mom

gets along great w lassie cause he may be an ares kid but hes not incredibly stupid like most of them

hates spiders of course

she joined the camp rather early in her life, because frank knew about the camp and she wanted to get away from him. ironic huh

Chief Karen Vick, child of Athena

they left the camp when they could to become a police officer up to chief, then returned to help Chiron out as a co-camp director because Mr. D does absolutely nothing

this way them and juliet are half siblings :D

Woodrow Strode, unknown

kinda just showed up one day

no one knows if hes a demigod or like a sighted mortal but he is just there

lives in the woods

hangs around the hades cabin a lot because death. also the Vibes

Busby 'Buzz' McNab, son of Demeter

can you imagine him tending to the gardens?? all 6'7 of him??? yes

also because buzz. bees. plants. demeter

i have basically no notes on him sorry

anyway im so wise. take my word as law (joking. do not do that)

[randomgirldraws]

Happy birthday to my boy, Elias!! 🥳 🎉

July 28th, 1899

[biancastoaster]

A Lily By Any Other Name (Is Still a Lily)

Category: Gen

Fandom: Psych (TV 2006)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Author Decided Not to Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Carlton Lassiter & OC

Characters: Lily M. Lassiter (OC), Carlton Lassiter, Carlton Lassiter's father, Shawn Spencer

Additional Tags: character death, misgendering, deadnaming, all that fun stuff, OC insert, sad Lassiter, flashbacks, homophobia, transphobia, little brother Lassiter, no beta we die like yin

Summary: Carlton visits his older sister. 

Author’s Notes: Lassiter needed an older sibling, I think it would’ve been good for him. 

I hope you guys like this, it took me a month to write. 

~~~~~~

At his desk, Carlton checked the time. Not yet. 

5 minutes went by before he checked again, and slumped back in his chair in disappointment when he saw it hadn’t been long since he last looked. 

This repeated until it finally was time. He quickly got ready to go. But just before he stood up to leave, Carlton grabbed a small file and put it inside his briefcase. He snapped the clasps shut and briskly began his way from his new office to his car. 

Halfway through the corridor, he’s stopped by an all too familiar voice. 

“Lassie! Where you going?” 

Carlton heaved a deep, exasperated sigh. Without even looking to see who it was, he kept walking away. “Not that it’s any of your business Spencer, but I’m visiting a family member.” 

Shawn caught up, ambling alongside Carlton. “Ooo, who? Is it Lauren? No wait, I got it: it’s your mother…s.”

He rolled his eyes. “None of them. I’m visiting my older sister, Lily.”

Shawn gave a look of surprise. “I didn’t know you had an older sister! Hold on, does she know you named your kid after her?”

Lassiter briskly walked out the door, Shawn still on his tail. “No, that’s why I’m visiting her today.”

“Doooes Marlowe know?”

“Yes, in fact she was the one who encouraged the name.”

“No no no, not that. Well, actually, yeah that too. But, does she know you’re visiting your sister without her?”

“Yes, she’s well aware I’m- you know what, I’m not entertaining this anymore. I need to leave now, I don’t want to be late.”

~~~

1974

It was dark out, the pitch black of night covering the neighborhood in a blanket, the sky dotted with little pinpricks of stars.  

Carlton Lassiter was in his bed, and he was tossing and turning in his sleep, mumbling nonsensical words to himself. 

He eventually woke up with a gasp. He was shaking, and he reached up to feel tear tracks on his face. He could’ve sworn that… 

But no. He was here, at home, safe in his bed. 

He wiped the remaining tears from his face, and tried to go back to sleep. But the adrenaline still lingered, keeping him awake and scared. Shadows seemed to loom from the corners, taking the form of monsters and blank figures. 

Eventually, he couldn’t take being alone in his room anymore. Grabbing his blanket, he gently hopped off his bed and onto the floor, and began making his way to his parents room. 

But right before Carlton even touched the doorknob, he hesitated. He didn’t want to bother them with something like this. His dad would probably just send him back to his room. And besides, their light was turned off, meaning his parents were fast asleep. 

So he kept going down the hall, and up the stairs. 

Carlton crept past the dining room and kitchen, and made his way to his brother Liam’s room. There was a tiny bit of light shining from under the door, nearly invisible to the untrained eye. 

He grabbed the doorknob, and as it made a small jiggling sound the light quickly turned off.

Carlton gently opened the door. “Liam?”

From the bed in the corner of the room, a head belonging to his 12 year old brother popped up from underneath the covers. “CJ? What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

He found himself unable to answer, his face screwing up and tears falling once more. 

Liam sat up, immediately concerned for his little brother. “Hey, hey, it’s alright, it’s alright. Come here.”

Carlton complied, clambering onto the bed and sinking into his older brother’s arms.

“It’s okay, just let it out.”

And he did, slowly hiccuping his way through telling Liam about the whole bad dream. 

The whole time, Liam sat there, rubbing Carlton’s back periodically to try and soothe him, like he had seen people on tv do. 

After sitting for a minute, Carlton sniffled, looking up at Liam. “What were you doing before I came in?”

“Ohh, just rereading The Hobbit.” 

“Can you- can you read it to me?” 

Liam smiled. “Of course. Did you want me to start at the beginning, or where I’m at?”

“Where you left off.”

“Alright then. Get comfy, come on, CJ.”

As Carlton snuggled under the covers, Liam reached under the first pillow and grabbed the book and pen light he had hidden just before Carlton came in. 

He cleared his throat, reading out loud, “As they sang the hobbit felt the love of beautiful things made by hands and by cunning and by magic moving through him, a fierce and a jealous love, the desire of the hearts of dwarves…”

Carlton slowly began to become more and more drowsy as the gentle timbre of his brother’s voice lulled him to sleep. 

“He looked out of the window. The stars were out in a dark sky above the trees. He thought of the jewels of the dwarves shining in dark caverns…”

Right when he was about succumb completely to sleep, he felt Liam gently put away the book and turn out the light once more. 

~~~

present

Carlton carefully pulled into a small strip mall, right in front of a store called ‘The Flower Corner’. 

He walked in, and stood at the desk, clearing his throat to catch the attention of the lady behind the desk. 

She looked up and saw him, and quickly stood up. “Oh hello, sir! How can I help you today?”

“I’m here to pickup a bouquet. It should be under Lassiter.”

“Of course, just one second.” She tapped a few keys on her keyboard, clicking a bit with her mouse as well. “Alright then, I’ll go ahead and grab it from the back.”

Carlton began awkwardly drumming his fingers on the counter as he waited for the employee to get back. 

“Alright, here they are!” 

He looked up and saw a beautiful bunch of flowers, a mix of pink lilies and carnations, all expertly wrapped in decorative plastic to hold it all together. 

As he paid, the cashier asked, “Who are the flowers for?” 

“My sister, Lily.” 

“Awww! Well, I can definitely see why you chose the lilies, then. I’m sure she’ll love them.”

Carlton nodded stiffly. The whole interaction felt awkward to him, and he hated awkward situations. So once he had gotten the bouquet paid for, he tried his best not to run out the door. 

~~~

1976

Carlton was riding in the back of his father’s car, on the way to pick up Liam from his friend’s house. 

He couldn’t remember his name, but he was pretty sure Liam’s friend was on the football team along with Liam himself. 

Looking out the window as they pulled up to the curb next to the house, he saw figures moving around behind the windows, presumably his brother and his friend saying goodbye.  

To his surprise, Carlton watched as his older brother walked out with a girl he didn’t recognize, instead of another guy. Maybe it was Liam’s friend’s sister? 

They had stopped at the entryway to continue a conversation, talking very animatedly, using dramatic hand gestures and exaggerated expressions. 

The two — along with Carlton — were startled when his dad honked the horn. 

Liam gave an apologetic look to the girl, and she burst into laughter. They exchanged a few more words before she gave him an energetic hug, which he equally returned. 

In the rearview mirror, Carlton saw a grin forming on his father. It was very clear what he thought the hug between the two had meant. But Carlton could just tell it wasn’t that kind of hug. He’d seen his parents hug, and girls and boys — couples — hug each other public. However, he had also seen girls hugging girls — their best friends — as well. That’s what kind of hug his brother and the girl had reminded him of.

As Liam climbed into the car, his dad gave him a look. “So, who was that?” 

Liam buckled in. “Just Chuck’s sister, she’s really nice.”

“Really nice, huh?” 

Carlton caught the suggestive look on his dad at the same time Liam did. “No, dad, it’s not- she’s just nice, I barely even know her.” 

His dad laughed. “That’s how it always starts. Soon enough you’ll be all over each other.”

It was then that Carlton noticed his brother’s face. It was red. The same shade of red his mother had at the end of the day when she finally took off her makeup. 

Not red in embarrassment from his father’s comments. He looked as if he’d been rubbing it continuously to get something off.

‘Was that what Liam had been doing? Wearing makeup?’

Later that day, Carlton confronted him, demanding to know the truth. Eventually, Liam caved. 

“Okay, okay, fine. Chuck wasn’t actually there, he had something come up. But Linda was, and… she uh… needed someone to model some of her makeup for her, and she asked me since we have really close skin tones.” Liam twisted his hands. “Her words, not mine.”

Carlton was young, only 8, but he knew when his brother was lying. However, he also knew when he should and shouldn’t pressure Liam with more questions, and decided to leave it alone. 

~~~

present

Carlton pulled out of the flower shop, and onto the road once more. 

He’d been driving for at least another 5 minutes when he hit a pothole that he heard a particularly loud bump from the back. He thought it was his briefcase for a minute, but a quick glance at the passenger seat told him that wasn’t true. There was something — or someone — in the trunk. 

Carlton pulled over to the side of the road, and grabbed his gun from his holster and cocked it. 

He pointed it at the trunk door, and quickly opened it. “Freeze!”

Light flossed the trunk, and a very familiar high pitched girlish scream emerged from inside. “Nonono don’t shoot!” 

“Spencer? What the hell are you doing here?”

Shawn clumsily clambered out of the trunk, tripping momentarily before regaining his balance. “I just wanted to meet your mystery sister, man. I’ve known you for what, 8 years? And I’ve never heard you talk about you ‘big sister Lily’.”

Carlton took a deep breath. “Spencer…” he briefly thought about ditching him on the side of the road. But a quick look told him that would be inhumane. And probably illegal. He ran a hand down his face exhaustedly. “Fine. You can come.” Shawn pumped a fist. “But you’re sitting in the back.”

“Tch.” Shawn made a dissapointed face, but got in the backseat anyway. 

~~~

1978

Carlton was hiding in his room, trying his best to drown out Liam and his father’s argument they were having just down the hall. 

Liam had been caught underneath the bleachers at the track, locking lips with the captain of the football team. Chuck, Liam’s so-called best friend, was the one to catch them, snitching on the couple to Carlton’s father. 

Which was what the current argument between the two was about.  

Everything was mostly muffled, thanks to Carlton shoving a pillow over his head to drown out the noise, but he definitely heard his father say something along the lines of ‘not raising his son to be a faggot’. 

At this, Liam raised his voice even more, becoming sou loud it permeated through the pillow. “I’m not gay, Dad!”

“Oh really? And how’s that, huh?”

“Because I’m a girl!”

There was a tense silence, shortly broken by the sound of a sharp slap, followed by quick footsteps running down the hall and up the stairs. Carlton could practically feel the slam of his brother’s- no, not brother, his sister’s bedroom door reverberating through the house. 

He waited for the sound of his father following after, but there was nothing.

Quietly, he opened his door. Carlton silently tiptoed upstairs, making sure he didn’t make too much sound. After a short trip, he made it upstairs, gently knocking on the door to his sister’s bedroom.   

“Are you alright-” he opens the door, and stops. So does Liam, who’s in the middle of shoving a t-shirt into a slowly overflowing backpack. “Liam? What are you doing?” 

Carlton sees her wince at the name. “I just… need some space from dad. I’m gonna stay at a friend’s house for a bit, wait for him to cool down a bit.”

“But, why is he mad at you for being a girl?”

She sighed. “I don’t know, buddy. Some people just, I can’t- they’re not really-” Her face started to scrunch up, eyes filling with tears. “But don’t worry, I won’t be gone for long, okay?”

He didn’t understand, but he nodded anyway. “Okay…”

She slung her backpack over her shoulder, and slid the window leading outside open. Just before slipping out, she paused and turned around. “Hey Carlton, can I ask you a favor?”

He perked up a little. “What is it?”

She scooted to the edge of the window, prepping to jump down. “Remember how you asked all of us to stop calling you CJ?” 

At least Carlton was able to understand this. “Yeah. It felt like a girly name to me.”

She smiled. “That’s kind of what I’m doing. ‘Liam’ doesn’t feel right.”

“Well, what do you want me to call you?”

“Lily. Just call me Lily instead.”

“Lily.” He tested it out “Okay. Bye Lily.”

“Bye Carlton. I’ll see you soon.” And with that, she jumped from the windowsill and landed nimbly on the soft grass far below. Lily wasted no time in booking it down the road, her figure quickly fading from sight as the night swallowed her. 

~~~

Present

Carlton’s hands subconsciously gripped the steering wheel as he remembered that night. He did get to see her again after that. Very soon, in fact. Just not in the way he had hoped. 

It had been a hit and run. There was only one bystander, and they hadn’t been close enough to see the car’s details in the pitch black of night. 

Carlton remembered sitting in the hospital waiting room with his parents and Lauren, the latter of whom was napping in her baby carrier, anxiously anticipating any news of Lily’s condition. 

He remembered someone coming out and whispering to his parents solemnly, something about Liam’sconditions, and how he wasn’t going to make it. 

He remembered going to her room and being told to say his goodbyes to Liam, seeing her broken and damaged body lying limply on the hospital bed. 

He remembered begging her still unmoving body to come back, to not leave him alone. 

He remembered being dragged away, tears flowing like a river as her heart monitor flatlined. 

He remembered his father reprimanding him, telling him he was tarnishing Liam’s memory by calling her Lily. 

He remembered that was the night that the last shred of respect he had for his dad crumbled away. 

It was as though he had just gotten to know his big sister, and then she was yanked away from him. 

As much as he hated it, it was the final push he needed in finalizing his decision of pursuing a career as a police officer, then head detective, then his current position as Chief of police. 

“Wait, Lassie this is-” Shawn cut himself off, immediately realized where they were going. “Oh man. I- I’m sorry, I had-”

“It’s fine, Spencer. You didn’t know.” Carlton said, his tone uncharacteristically soft.  

He pulled his car onto a gravelly path, bumping slightly along as he searched for-

There. He could see it from here. It wasn’t like it could be moved, but he almost always lost it in the sea of granite and marble, and would have to go on a search. 

He parked, and reached into the passenger seat where his briefcase and the bouquet still sat. 

“I’ll just- just wait here, Lassie. Me and dead people… it’s really depressing.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you to come anyway, Spencer.” Just before he closed the door, he pointed a threatening finger at Shawn. “You touch anything in here and I will not hesitate to shoot you. Copy?” 

Shawn said nothing, simply giving him a mock salute. Carlton rolled his eyes and shut the door. 

He walked up to a gray marble tombstone. The area had been mowed recently, so there was still some grass clippings scattered on the base of it. 

Liam Lily Mark Lassiter 

1962-1978

son daughter, brother sister, friend

Carlton smiled a bit to himself. Normally, he was opposed to defacement of property, but this was an exception in his eyes. Lily deserved to have her true name on the stone that marked her final resting place. 

He kneeled down and, after brushing away the grass clippings, gently set the bouquet in front of the tombstone, making sure none of the words were obscured. He’d already taken the plastic wrapping off. The world didn’t need more trash littered everywhere. 

“Hey Lily. I know it’s been a while. A few months, actually.” 

Carlton shifted a bit, trying to get comfortable. “I got promoted. I’m Chief of police now, like I’ve always worked for.” 

The tombstone sat silently.

“Uhmm, Marlowe gave birth, too. In the back of a food truck, of all places. Of course, it was all Spencer’s and Guster’s fault. I’m sure that doesn’t surprise you, huh?” 

Silence.

He continued. “It’s a girl, and god she is so beautiful. She has your eyes. We named her after you.” 

Still silence. 

“I have something else.” He reached beside him for his briefcase, and pulled out the file from earlier. “I managed to get your name legally changed. It was one hell of a legal battle, but Mom and Althea and I managed it. You’ll be getting a new tombstone soon, one with your real name.”

Taking a deep breath, he went on. “I miss you, Lily. But, not as much as I used to. I hope you don’t mind.”

A gentle breeze brushed by him, ruffling his hair. 

Carlton cleared his throat. “I’m… not good at saying goodbye. Even after all these visits. You’d think I’d get the hang of it by now.” 

Somewhere in a nearby tree, a bird tittered. 

“Okay, I’ll try to come back sooner next time. I know you don’t like waiting.” He packed up his briefcase once more, and turned away, heading back to his car. 

~~~

Bonus: 

Lily watched as he left, swinging her feet from the tombstone, a soft smile playing on her lips. She looked exactly how she had when she died, but somehow emulated an air of femininity she would never have been able to achieve while alive. 

She waved, even though she knew her little brother wouldn’t see it. “Bye, Carlton.”

[starfish-spencer]

number twenty for the psych ask game?

Hi, thanks for the ask!

20. Favorite quote from the show

I already answered this one but I have a lot of quotes I love, so I'm going to give you another of my favorites!

When Shawn tells Lassie, "You might be the only other person on the planet who loves Jules as much as I do, even though it's different."

AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH

I love how they compared Jules and Lassie's friendship to Shawn and Jules's romamce, because that was the only way to even begin to describe how strong their love for each other is. The fact that these two love each other so deeply and unconditionally, and are still never implied to be anything more than platonic, is one of my favorite parts of the whole show. And for Shawn to recognize and acknowledge that shows how much he respects their friendship, too.

Giving Jules and Lassie a sibling relationship instead of romantic drama was hands-down the best writing decision the team made

[the-badger-mole]

I have been mulling over a Psych!AU for ATLA. I think it would be hilarious. I will probably not get around to writing it, but here's what I was thinking.

Katara in the Shawn Spencer role. She honed her skills with Pakku, her surly, not always supportive grandfather who came to live with her family when she was very young after her mother died. He saw her knack for puzzle solving and her preternaturally sharp memory. Katara has a strained relationship with him because of his deep rooted misogyny and his insistence that despite being a woman, Katara should follow his footsteps into law enforcement. It...is a weird dichotomy, and at the start of the story, it has been years since they spoke.

Sokka is her Gus. He's a tightly wound, neurotic overachiever who feels disappointed because after years of being the gifted kid, he ends up working as a pharma rep. He wanted to be an engineer or a bio-chemist, but it didn't work out (I haven't decided why just yet). He still pursues those interests in his own time, which makes him a valuable, if reluctant participant in his sister's schemes. He initially goes along with his sister's foray into psychic detecting in order to protect her, but eventually he gets just as into it as she is. Especially after he meets Suki.

Suki is our Juliette. She's a sharp junior detective who assists the sibling detective duo from time to time. She believes Katara's psychic abilities after a few times witnessing her solving cases. Well, she mostly believes it. She can't completely wrap her mind around it, but she also can't think of a rational, natural explanation for how Katara seems to know what she knows. As time goes on, she develops feelings for Sokka, the sarcastic, logical, goofy half of the detective duo. She often acts as a buffer between the siblings and her partner,

Zuko is the Carlton Lassiter of the story. He does not believe Katara's claims of psychic abilities, but like Suki, he hasn't come up with a rational explanation. Yet. Still, she gets results, he can't deny. Their relationship is rocky at first. Zuko was the best detective in the police department, until Katara started showing him up. He is a stickler for rules and procedure, and he hates how Katara and her brother just do whatever cockamamie thing pops into their head, and it works out. As they work together more, he feels like he's on the cusp of figuring her out, but he just finds himself more and more impressed with her. Eventually, they become friends, and after that, something else blossoms between them.

Toph is this story's Woody. She's a slightly unhinged ME with an attitude problem. She is probably not completely blind, but she's severely visually impaired, which makes people doubt her abilities. At first. But then they realize why she is the ME for the most prestigious police department in the area. She likes the way Katara and Sokka have shaken up the department, so she doesn't mind helping them out every so often. She knows exactly how Katara manages to solve these crimes, but she will take that secret to the grave, because she thinks it's hilarious.

Aang is McNabb, and if you've seen the show, you know I'm right.

Iroh is the chief Vic. He runs the department with efficiently and is the one who impressed the importance of the rules in his nephew, Detective Zuko. Unfortunately, he never could get the boy to be more open minded. Iroh has no trouble employing the services of a psychic detective, as long as she gets the job done. He also finds it amusing to watch his nephew trying very hard not to be in love with her.

Obviously, Pakku is the Henry. Hakoda is Hakoda. He's a good dad, but he left a lot of the work of raising his kids to his mother-in-law, Kanna and Pakku, her husband, while he worked to keep the entire household financially afloat. Now that his kids are grown and out of the house, and he works less, he is trying to keep them all connected. He's very proud of his kids, though he doesn't completely understand what exactly it is they're doing. Either that, or he occasionally fills the Gus role along with or instead of Sokka.

[phantomss-pain]

My versions of Charlie, Michael and Sammy. This is just how I see them and how I like writing for them.

Charlie:

Born on May 13th in 1969. She’s the older than her twin brother Samual or Sammy by five minutes.

She is straight.

She has dated Carlton for a month when she was a child.

She dated John when she was a teen before breaking up with him as she didn’t think their relationship was working

Her partner that she’s been with the most is Michael Afton and the two even get married and the two are happy together.

Charlie is a massive Tomboy. As a child she hated really girly stuff and was a big collector of the Railway series books when she was a small child (she still reads them later on in her life as they are comfort books for her)

If she wasn’t the ceo of fazbear entertainment when she was older she would have become a train designer.

She is very Introverted and dislikes opening up to people as she thinks it makes her weak as that’s what William said to her in the alleyway when he tried killing her.

A lot of her problems come from that attack to the point that she was a workaholic like her father but eventually when she had her first child she calmed down.

Weird fact: Charlie is a freak in bed. After sleeping with Michael for the first time she becomes more and more into it and is the main top of the two’s relationship in bed and outside of it even though on the surface Michael should be the one that’s in charge.

Her closest friend is Jessica and Jessica is often her right hand man

Sammy:

Sammy takes after his mother and cares a lot more about music than his sister

He is straight

Sammy doesn’t have many relationships in his life but he does end up dating and marrying Jessica

Michael:

Michael was born June 25th 1969 and is the oldest of his siblings

Michael is bi but he has a female preference

He is often dry and sarcastic and loves teasing his friends a lot

Michael’s first relationship in the friend group was with Marla but after a few months Marla broke up with him as she knew that he was down bad for Charlie.

When he’s a father he is the person who takes up most of the house work while Charlie’s busy running the family business

When Michael does marry Charlie he changes his last name to Emily not wanting to be associated with his Father’s last name and what he did to the love of his life.

Michael becomes a lot more gently in his adult years and is unrecognisable to what he was in his teenage years

[strelitzia-mystery1097]

Abby from the Fnaf movie be like-

So spoilers beware...

But why does Abby have so many parallels to so many characters?

Now on the surface you would think it was just be the Elizabeth Afton/Circus Baby connection. Both Abby and Elizabeth are little sisters to a guy called Mike. Abby was almost stuffed into a Clown aesthetic animatronic. You would that would be it right?

But honestly while she has the surface level connections to Elizabeth, she actually has a lot more characters that she has connections too.

Crying Child. Both are younger siblings. Both carry/have a teddy bear. Both refer to the core 4 animatronics as 'friends'. Both are outcasts and are weird.

Charlie. Ella is the doll that belongs to Charlie from the Silver Eyes trilogy. The Eleanor (that name is a whole other discussion) animatronic doesn't look like Circus Baby it looks like Ella. Both Abby and Charlie have Aunts that are killed unceremoniously and left on like the living room floor. Both crawl behind arcade cabinets to avoid Foxy.

Carlton Burke. Carlton has a special friendship to Golden Freddy and Abby probably does too considering what Golden Freddy does in the movie. But most importantly the whole 'draw the truth so the ghosts remember and break free of Springtrap's control' thing is exactly what Carlton does except he did in like a mindscape (long story).

I guess Abby's friendship with the Animatronics could also be parallel to Gregory and Glamrock Freddy's/Cassidy and Roxanne's friendship too?

Abby even does the Balloon Boy HELLO thing.

So um yeah. She's like an amalgamation of characters. Her brothers are like that too actually but this post is about Abby.