Overly Attached Papa 🦐

trying hard not to redraw stupid memes, but WHERE THE F IS ZORO AGAIN

⚔️👒 Strong and very sexy indeed 😆

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based from this meme:

But what was most baffling to all that met the Pevensies after they came back was that they were kind.

Really. Not pretending, not because they were insecure. True, empathic. Far too understanding for children their age. They all have music in them.

Peter’s hands feel too small for him, but he shakes hands all the same. Gentle pressure. There is nobility behind those eyes. Eyes that always border on the supernatural sort of blue, especially in the dark.

He plays the guitar, gently coaxing otherworldly sounds out of an instrument that did not know it could be played like that. He helps his siblings with their homework, is taller much faster than his peers. Seems to take up more space, even though no one understands how a teenage boy manages that.

He doesn’t like doing nothing, ever. He instructs his classmates in grammar, gives away figures he cuts from wood with a knife that seems too sharp for a boy that small. He never hurts himself, though.

As the years pass, Peter grows strong. But he is gentle. He does not seem to be brash, even when many of his friends are. Peter keeps his emotions in check. Noble. Not undangerous, but not belligerent. Peter only ends fights, and only with people that deserve it.

He offers advice, a pat on the back. Teachers wanna dislike him, some do not like the look behind those eyes. Most find they cannot. Peter is popular with both adults and children, speaks sense and laughs often.

Peter is kind. Pious, devout. His faith is unmovable like rock. Did the kids meet God on the estate of their uncle?

Edmund plays the violin. A sad Edmund is a rare sight, but when he plays sad he can keep his whole floor awake. Somehow, Peter always finds h him quickly, effortlessly attuned to his brother’s moods. They play chess, then. Their chess master must have been a champion, Ed beats people with ease. He’s usually not smug about it.

Ed speaks politics and war in earnest, accepts critique graciously, is elegant in a way Peter never manages. Peter speaks frankly, but Edmund can wrap words up real nice. He doesn’t mince words, but his classmates grow into liking the sound of his voice. They appreciate that Edmund does not lie, even when speaking tactfully. Edmund can dial the temperature in a room, change it to suit himself.

He, too, laughs often, but Edmund is known to smirk. He likes being right and he often is. He’ll entertain anyone with a good story, always seems to have the right information to help you out. Remedies to illness, connections, job openings, how to sneak out of PE.

He’s a spider in a web. A bit reserved for a 11 year old, and oddly well-connected. A real ghost when he wants to be, but he never scares people with it.

Aslan would not approve of that. He believes in God as well, but much more intellectually. He’s got the intelligence to back it up and wit to match. A scholarly belief, but not lacking conviction.

Teachers like his enthousiasm, remember a moody nagging child when he left and see a secure young man come back.

Edmund will stand up for what is right. He gets into some trouble like that, but his verbal agility saves him always. Edmund has strong principles and will not bend them for anyone. No matter the trouble he gets in.

The bond with his brother is unbreakable. They even walk the same, chest out, left hand on their belt. They seem most at ease when fencing.

Susan was always warm and tenderhearted, but when she comes back there is a difference.

She seems to have gained authority. It’s real strange watching a 13-year old use her beauty like a grown woman, but Susan has learned to wield it, to stun people so she can creep under their skin. People LISTEN to her now.

Her wit is like a knife, but she avoids cutting deep. Susan is reasonable, and strong, and principled. The little drama others get involved in does not bother her, and she seems immune to petty insults. She has killed before, with her hands.

She will do it with kindness now. She is not very approachable ( that would be Lucy ), but she is kind. She used to mother over her brothers and sisters, but now that they have raised each other in a court full of magic she has gotten more relaxed. They listen to her on important issues, trust in her judgement. Her brothers does not deem himself more important, she is both well-spoken and well-respected by her siblings. Equal. It baffles the old men that teach her. Irritates them, too.

There is an air of mystery around her. Half a look is enough to get what she wants, Susan’s friends laud her security in herself, her Mona Lisa smile. She seems to temper moods easily, makes people feel at ease.

She most of everyone exudes royalty. It’s the grace. Susan plays the harp, her long fingers dancing across the strings like she’s had a lifetime of practice. She’s elegant, never caught off guard. Jamais faux pas.

She does not get angry. She knows who she will be. She is anxious to become an adult, yes, but she only wishes to look how she feels. Not to look differently. Yet the wish to be taken seriously, to have someone see you as an adult, it makes her surprisingly similar to her peers.

Her friends have not been old yet, is all. But Susan is calm and collected. People see her as someone you can tell a secret to. She never hurts someone, is usually a neutral party, speaks sense to adult and kids alike. She is not ignorant, however, will use every trick in the book to keep the peace. She knows when to go nuclear. Vis pacem para bellum.

Lucy is a sun in human form. She has a joie de vivre that is unmatched, is gay and golden-haired and never in a bad mood.

Lucy is kind by default, does not turn it off, does not turn it down. She’s witty and funny and quick on her feet. She has been grown before, yes, but enjoys being young for a few years more. She dances, sings old tunes. Her voice is her favorite instrument, you can usually hear Lucy coming.

Whistling a tune in the halls is known to improve the moods of everyone who hears it immensely. Young girls need to figure out who they are, but Lucy knows, knows what she’ll be and who she likes and what kind of people she wants to be around. She is not pretending, never moody. She can get sad, of course, but her older brothers and sisters are always nearby when that happens.

Lucy is genuine and fierce and convinced, immovable at times. Admired for her drive, but respected for her empathy. She speaks to everyone, often distributes flowers. There’s no naivite in her at all, she simply wishes to be like this so that the world may imitate her. She likes to see people prosper, is the first with praise.

She will go far, is the consensus. There’s steel beneath the soft exterior, Lucy has fire below the flowers. She’s well-liked and well-loved. She has love in spades, it seems, animals and stragglers and misfits and outcasts. She’s popular, her room is a good place to get a cup of tea and someone who will listen to you for some time. After a while she no longer bothers with the door.

That a heart that size fits in a girl that small is a mystery to many. Lucy does not think it is a mystery at all. It is the heart of a lion.

Her faith is as vocal as the rest of her, she sees it confirmed in all that is beautiful, all that is kind. She never tries to convert anyone but there are several people who have told her that version of God is someone they would like to know.

The Pevensies often see each other at parties, where they like to stand together. Edmund knows about everyone, everyone knows Peter, everyone likes Susan, but it is Lucy who knows everyone.

They are kind, but not weak. Peter gets his knuckles bloody sometimes, Edmund does not abide by the rules of unjust teachers. Susan and Lucy solve their problems differently but no less effective. Kindness is their usual way of operating, but they are still kings and queens. They will not allow cruelty, will not let bullies go unpunished.

They are sure of what they are and sure of what comes after death and this makes them kind. Kind , not harmless. Kind, not spineless. Kind, not ignorant. Kind, not naive.

Kind despite. Maybe kind because. The kings and queens of Narnia are proud of what they are, honour the teachings of their lion friend. Kind.

When the crash happens and three siblings die, everyone they know mourns deeply. Without them, the world is less kind.

⚔️👒

The source of the swordsman's brightest smiles.

Long time no see! Have some kghn kitties 🫐🍊

I, Roronoa Zoro, vow to stand by your side from now until the end. Until we find the One Piece or die trying. So bring on the marines or pirates. You're my captain, Luffy, and I'm your first mate.

Ok here is the thing I’ve been thinking on: that old!Five and Five scene but with Vanya (not instead of Luther, it could be just a coincidence). Anyway, Luther and Five watching how Vanya is like “Please give us the suitcase, Five. Please? For me?” And Five being jealous of himself???

hmm, anon. okay.

(In a universe where maybe perhaps Five and Vanya threw down a little in 3x7 and my girl got her memories back. Maybe also in the universe of the lost myth of true love idk)

((Also I know the teenage five is technically the older five. Don’t fight me pls))

Luther throws an arm across Five’s chest to stop him from marching straight up to his former self. “Stop,” he half-shouts, wincing when the sound carries. “Look,” he begins again, voice lowered now that he has Five’s attention. “You’re.. you’re him. You’re going to freak him out stomping up to him like that.” He pauses, looking at Five, then at his smallest sister, who Five has kept half hidden behind him ever since the both of them had come tumbling into the alley where they were supposed to go back to the future.

Neither has truly told him what happened; when Luther questions the way Vanya seems to lean away from him, tiny hand wrapped around Five’s bicep, Five merely tells him that she has retrieved her memories. The tone of his voice discourages conversation, and Luther realizes that Vanya remembers the way he locked her in a cage. He doesn’t know how to apologize, not when he’s still unsure whether what he did was truly wrong, so he keeps his distance.

“One of us should go,” he finished, keeping his gaze on Vanya. He wants to include her in the conversation.

She smiles faintly at him, and he beams back. Progress. “I’ll go,” she volunteers, moving to circle Five.

Before she can take more than half a step, Five’s hand darts out, fast as lightening, gripping her wrist. “No,” he denies firmly. “You promised, remember?”

Luther doesn’t know what Vanya promised, but it’s enough for her to step back, tugging her hand from his grip and instead wrapping it around his arm. Five goes along with the movement gladly, a shadow of a smirk crossing his face.

Luther shrugs, approaching the older Five delicately. Soon enough, he beckons the other two forward.

And if he is thrown off by the murderous glare old Five turns on his teenage self, that is nothing compared to when Vanya peeks at them over Five’s shoulder.

“Vanya,” the old Five breathes, stepping forward. Luther watches the way he nearly drops the briefcase in awe, fumbling awkward before he takes another step. The way he is looking at Vanya is the way that Luther knows he’s looked at Allison, but somehow more reverent… more desperate… like a holy man who has gone without God for decades, only to see God rushing towards him like a brilliant sun. The realization hits Luther like a freight train, and there is only one question capable of running through his mind:

How long has Five been in love with Vanya?

“Hi, Five,” Vanya says shyly. “You look good.”

Old Five, the nervous, cold man who he had just spoken to, honest-to-god chuckles, stealing the space between them with another step. He is moving slightly to the right too, approaching her so that young Five is not directly between them. The younger version is watching him carefully, Luther notes, but the older one doesn’t seem to care.

“That picture in your book didn’t do you justice, sweetheart,” old Five says gently. “You look radiant.” He’s not too close to her, yet, but he still lifts a shaking hand, like he is reaching for her face. Like he is already imagining the sensation of her skin against his.

“Oh, well,” Vanya replies, takes a tiny step toward him, “I finally got off my pills-“

The step is evidently, literally, a step to far, and young Five arches his shoulders in a move that Luther now recognizes as his ’I’m gonna kill you’ pose. “That’s enough,” he grits out, dropping Vanya’s hand from his arm and instead circling that arm around her waist, pulling her against him. “We didn’t come here for this. This isn’t yours yet, old man.”

Old Five arches a brow. “I rather think it is not yours yet. What are you, thirteen…?”

Vanya rolls her eyes in a show of emotion that Luther is completely shocked by, breaking free from young Five and taking two large steps to come to stand in front of old Five. The man is obviously hyperventilating at her proximity, and she raises her arms cautiously.

“This okay?” She asks. He nods vigorously, and she wraps her arms around him.

He holds her back, breathing her in with his eyes wide open, intent on his younger self. “Now, angel, tell me why you’re here, and I’ll help the best I can.”

Young Five growls. “She doesn’t need your help,” he hisses. “Vanya, you can’t trust him, c’mon, you know I’m the one-“

Vanya cuts him off. “He’s you, Five. Of course I trust him.”

Young Five looks like he doesn’t know what to do with that, but there is a faint blue glow in his eyes, and Luther realizes this could go ugly. Fast.

“Okay guys, for now, we’re trying to save the world. Maybe we can chill out?”

Both the Fives grumble, and Vanya takes a step back. She looks nervously at Luther. “Is this the Paradox Psychosis?”

Luther doesn’t think so, but he doesn’t tell Vanya that. No need to let her know that he’s seen jealousy, he’s seen to men on the verge of killing each other over something precious, and this is definitely that. “I think maybe you should sit on my side of the booth,” he says kindly, and she nods after shooting a long look at young Five.

“If you touch her again, Luther…” He trails off, ignoring the old Five’s indignant questions about what the hell he means.

“Noted,” Luther agrees, and they slide into the booth.

Vanya leans forward, smiling softly at old Five. “It’s about your briefcase,” she begins softly, “and how you get back to me.”

From the rapt look in older Five’s eyes, and the burning jealousy in the other’s, Luther thinks they probably have this in the bag.

Well, as long as homicidal rage doesn’t exacerbate the fact that both Fives seem like they could happily skin each other if it meant getting to hold his powerful little sister’s hand.

sunset in italy 🌧️☀️

100% would happen with them 💀

all credits to the artist @GMamka on X & Tiktok