#how big are Willa and Sam

[seenoversundown]

Sparrow Of The Dawn : Chapter Eight

Sam Kiszka x Willa (Fem OC)

Warnings: 18+ Smut (warnings will be last) A lot of emotions (angry/anxious/frustrated) bickering, playful bullying, if you squint and turn your phone upside down— slight yearning, Sam actually being a big ol’ sweetheart, Mother Jake feature, and their stubbornness is strong with this one.

Smut Warnings include: jokes referencing sex, teasing/tension (invoked by the position they’re in), oral (f receiving)

Word Count: 12.1k 🫣

Summary: Tension is high after discovering the hotel mishap, so they both are doing their best to navigate the first night in this cramped space with each other.

Author's Note: heyyyy.. how y'all doinn..? 🫣 SO- it's been .. almost a year since we heard from Sam and Birdie and frankly, it felt like it was time to give you s o m e t h i n g. Which I decided as I chipped away at this chapter, that I would just let it be longer. 🥹💜

In regards to a posting schedule for them, I don't want to over-promise and under-deliver, so they will be tentatively updating, but I will give you updates on which Sundays to look forward too! (I really want you guys to have their story finally, so I will be doing my best to juggle this alongside Danny & Mel)

Born Under A Bad Sign - Cream "If it weren't for bad luck, I wouldn't have no luck at all."

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I grab my hair at the roots and pace back and forth at the foot of the bed that Sam is now lying casually on. Hands laced behind his head, his body fully covered in his outside clothes, and his shoes still on his feet. Ew, who lays in bed with their boots on? Our luggage still sits forgotten by the door. 

How can he be so relaxed about this?

“We have to talk to someone. We have to do something. Do you think we can go down to the front desk and ask them to switch? No. There has to be a mistake. The email specifically said double room. As in two beds. Dos. Deux. One, two.” I count on my fingers. I stop and face Sam. 

“My email doesn’t say that.” He's looking up from his phone with an amused smile dancing across his lips. 

“What do you mean your email doesn't say that?” Snarling at him as he holds his phone out for me to look at. I walk to his bedside and snatch his phone from his fingers. Continuing my pacing, my eyes scan down the email all the way to the signature from the head of the HR department. 

Ding.

His phone goes off, and the text banner drops down. I don’t look up at him, but I can feel his eyes on me.

Daisy 🌼:  Text message

Isn’t that fucking cute. A cute little emoji and everything. How nice? I probably don’t even have an emoji next to my name. 

Ew. 

I don’t care? I don’t. I. Do. Not. Care. 

Annoyed, I swipe the banner up and out of my line of sight and focus back on the email. Nowhere does it say anything about a double room. I pull out my phone and open my email, typing in the subject to find the specific one I’m looking for. It takes a few minutes to sort through the mess of my inbox. When I see the email from the same HR rep, I select it and read on. 

“You’ll be picked up by a car service at the airport and taken to the Hyatt hotel. Located at–”

Blah blah blah, get on with it. 

“After you’ve checked in to the hotel and dropped off your belongings, you will need to check in with the San Francisco Chronicle located at–”

Okay, okay, here we go…

Oh, no. 

My eyes dart back and forth between my phone and his. I clear my throat and lower the phones, which hang heavy like bricks on either side of me. 

“Neither email says anything about the number of beds.” I toss his phone back to him; it lands in a soft thud on the plush comforter. He lets out a throaty laugh. Oh, he's getting a kick out of this. Four different versions of me slapping him across the face flash through my mind. God, does he know how to irk me. 

“How is this funny to you? Do you want to share a bed with me, Sam? Does that sound like fun to you? I kick in my sleep, you know.” I don’t but he doesn't need to know that. Something flashes in his eyes and quickly disappears. 

“On a grand scale, there are definitely worse things I can think of than sleeping next to someone who can’t stand me. But if you kick me, just know I’m gonna tie your legs to the bedpost.” He smirked as he got up from bed, and I scoffed. “Let’s just talk to the front desk and see about getting a different room before you have an aneurysm.”

I roll my eyes at him.

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We step back into the elevator, retreating in defeat after speaking with Dustin again at the front desk. One fucking bed. Apparently, because these rooms were pre-booked, they were company rooms; therefore, we couldn’t swap the room or size without charging the company more. In layman's terms, without permission from our bosses, we’re fucked, and the last thing we want to do is make a wrong first impression. Thank god it's a King Size, at least. I let out a deep sigh and pulled out my phone to send a quick text to Quinn.

Me: Do you want to hear about how I have the worst luck on the planet?

If Sam stared any harder as I typed, holes would be burned into the side of my head. I look over at him. His arms are crossed, and his face reads, "Judgey." Yeah, Judgey is how I would describe whatever that is. Lowering my hands, I meet his gaze. We stare at each other for a long moment before he breaks the silence.

“Come on. Is it really that bad?” 

“Yes.” 

“Oh, please. I am a joy to be around. I’m a joy to live with. Just ask Daniel” he gives me a cheeky grin as he tries to reason with me. The elevator dings, and we exit, heading down the hall to our room. 

“You live alone, and I don’t know Daniel. I’d have an easier time believing Penny. But, Alas, she can’t speak. I’m sure if she could, she’d say she likes Daniel better, though. Or was all your bellyaching about leaving her with him because she ‘never wants to come back home’ just… talk?” using air quotes as I recall his complaint from the other day. 

“Low blow, Birdie. Low blow.” The playful look in his eyes glistens as he puts the keycard up to the door and opens it. “Maybe now's a good time for you to take that nap you were talking about.” He tosses me a little cautionary side eye as I walk past him, and he closes the door behind him. It's as if he thinks I’m a ticking time bomb getting ready to detonate. 

“I’m not a toddler who needs to go down for a nap.” The look he gives me says he disagrees. I did want to take a nap when we first got to the hotel, but now that he’s suggesting it– of course, I don't want to. 

Why am I like this?

 “I couldn’t fall asleep with you here during the daytime even if I wanted to.” Internally rolling my eyes because I am tired. I do want to take a nap, but I am stubborn and refuse to give in to him—his energy changes as he crosses his arms. 

“My presence is so disturbing that you couldn’t fall asleep with me here? What are you going to do for this whole trip? Stay awake the whole time? Become a zombie? Might as well just hand me the job now. There’s no reason to even go through with this week.” His tone is more sassy than playful now, immediately sending me on the defense.

“Can you just fall asleep wherever, whenever, under any conditions?” I retort. “The sun is still out, and you would be awake and doing what? Sitting here watching me sleep?” The pending argument starts to rear its ugly head over the horizon.

“You’re so dramatic.” He huffs. “How about I just fuck off for a few hours and leave you be. Does that work for you, Princess Willa?” He shakes his head in disbelief. I recoil at the use of my full name. Seeing a whole new side of Sam, I didn’t actually think he was capable of. I start to wonder if I've done something truly wrong to offend him or cause him to be actually upset now, apart from the blatant bickering. His annoyance is obvious, but instead of making anything better, my stubbornness wins. 

“That would be great, actually, thanks,” I spit back and grab my suitcase so I can change into more comfortable clothes. 

“Fine.” He turns on his heel toward the door, shutting it with more force than normal. The sound causes me to jump. It’s not quite hard enough to be considered slamming, which I should probably feel better about, but I don’t. At least he’s a man who can somewhat control his anger. I sit down on the corner of the bed and let out a sigh. This is not how I wanted this trip to go.

My phone dings with a text message from Quinn. My savior, yes.

Quinn: I always want to hear (laugh) about your misfortunes.

Me: Sam’s gone lemme call you. 

I wait impatiently as the phone rings, and rings. And rings. God what are they doing? They JUST texted me?

“Tell it to me straight, Big Willy Style. What seems to be the catastrophic, def con 5 issue today?” They tease. 

“Jesus, where do I start?” A pained sigh escapes me.

“Usually from the beginning.” Their lively giggle comforted me from the other end of the line.

“Har Har. Basically, the flights were a shit show because.. You know how I get when I fly.”

They hum in agreement.

“I thought Sam was making fun of me for it, but he wasn’t. Then he held my hand? Which was actually really nice, but then I fell asleep on him. Annnd then I drooled on him. I DROOLED, Quinny, fully on his shoulder. As we were getting off the plane, I saw a sliver of his stomach and almost died because despite the fact that I am annoyed with him like ninety-nine percent of the time, he is.. actually, really hot?” I take a deep breath in, ready to spill the rest of today’s events so they’re caught up.

“I KNEW IT,” they interject excitedly.

“Knew what?”

“That you have a big fat crush on him.” 

My cackle is so loud it surprises me. “Please? A crush? No. ‘Crush’ is not at all the word I would use to describe my feelings about him. Annoyed, cranky, slightly bordering on going insane is more like it. Just because I have eyes does not mean I have a crush. He pisses me off every chance he gets. It's like a game to him.” 

“I can totally see how holding your hand presumably to calm down your neurotic– I mean wonderful little behind down, and allowing you to drool on him in return would absolutely tick you off.” 

“I’m not done yet, Quailman.” I pick at a loose thread on the comforter.

“Please continue. I’m just dying to hear how this ends.” 

“Okay, then my suitcase got lost, and he yelled at baggage claim security people and called me his girlfriend? Because, for whatever reason, he thought that would make people listen to him. Then we finally get back to the hotel, and I think, ‘Okay, great, I might be able to relax and take a nap or something.’ But no. Whatever holy entity that rules above us has decided to make my life a JOKE, and there is, in fact, only.. One. Bed. in this hotel room.” 

“There’s a lot to unpack here.”

“The irony is not lost on me.” A sarcastic laugh leaves my mouth. “However, there is still more.”

“Oh, god.”

“We tried to switch the room, but it's a company room, so we can’t. Which means I am fully stuck sharing a bed with this man that I cannot stand.”

“A bed. A bathroom. A common space. A TV! How will you possibly survive if he hates sleeping with the TV on?” They let out dramatically. Oh god, I hadn’t thought of that. 

I cannot fall asleep in complete silence. The TV is always on at night in my bedroom. Even with the sound on low, it helps me ignore any odd noises and creeks that might usually cause me to think there’s an intruder in my house. Call me paranoid, but you never know it could happen.

“Ugh,” Falling back on the bed with a thump. “What am I supposed to do, Quinn.”

“Uh oh, not the government name. This is serious.”

“So serious, and I’m pretty sure I pissed him off. He seemed pretty upset over something when he left, and I think it's my fault. He told me, and I quote, ‘How about I just fuck off for a few hours and leave you be.’” I conveniently leave out the second half, knowing that Quinn would escalate that into calling me ‘your highness’ in a millisecond. 

Laying down on my side and curling up in a ball, I settle the phone between my ear and the comforter, wishing nothing more than to be home in my comfy old sweats and my own bed. 

“In all seriousness, Wills. I’m going to tell you this because I love you, and I know you. Maybe reel it in juuust a tiny bit and deal with some of these catastrophes a bit more internally. I’m sure it doesn’t feel good to hear someone you need to share a space with for a week saying how much they don’t want to be there.”

I’m silent for a moment, and then I groan. “I hate it when you’re right, you know.”

“Sucks for you because I am always right,” they say, matter-of-factly; I can picture their bright, beaming smile as it comes out.  

“Oh fuck off,” I huff out a laugh.

“Just try to forget how absolutely irritating–” they drop their voice an octave and whisper under their breath, “-wonderful, and kind he’s been, and remember that there are probably abs under there. Ooooh, maybe you’ll get to see him shirtless. Pantless even? Maybe he’ll wear gray sweatpants. Does he have a nice butt?” Their voice getting more eager as they ramble on.

“Annnnd– that’s enough of that. I’m going to take a nap now. Bye,” Their attempt to make me uncomfortable working. 

“Bye, Wallaby. Hope you remembered to pack protection.”

I swiftly click the ‘end call’ button. 

Jesus.

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Sam POV

The time on my phone reads 8:12 PM in bold letters, and I sigh loudly. It’s been a few hours since I stormed out of the hotel. It was not one of my finer moments, and I regretted it as soon as the door clicked behind me. But I was too stubborn to turn around and apologize. The words I said echoed through my mind on repeat as the guilt sank in. 

Ever since she crash-landed into my life, I find myself occasionally wracking my brain trying to figure out what I’ve done to cause Birdie, Willa, to hate me so much. Hoping enough time has passed for her to be calm and rested; I start the car and type in the hotel’s address. 

Eventually, I stopped feeling sorry for myself and ordered an Uber to pick up the rental car. Then, I headed over to The Chronicle to check-in. I read the email’s instructions thoroughly to make sure I didn’t miss details, not wanting either of us to be surprised again like we were by the singular bed.

 When I arrived, I met with the man spearheading this project, he introduced himself as ‘Charles, but you can call me Charlie.’ Everything about him was average. He dressed like every other man his age in this field of work: the same standard haircut with faded sides, the same boring patent black dress shoes, the same powder blue button-up with the same old maroon and navy striped tie. What he lacked in style, he made up for with personality. Shaking my hand and immediately cracking a joke with me. He seems like one of those bosses who always says, ‘Hey, I don’t like it either. If I had it my way, we wouldn’t be doing this at all, but this is what the big guys want.’ to try and seem like he’s one of the regular employees. The guy who invites you out for drinks on a Friday night to unwind after spending too many hours locked in the office. 

“Where’s the other half?” He asked, and I made up some excuse about how Willa had gotten sick once we landed and was resting, but she’d be good as new tomorrow ‘probably just something she ate.’ I figured it would be a better explanation than ‘Yeah, actually, we fought before I left, and now we’re not speaking, can't wait to work together!’ What he doesn’t know won't hurt him.  He then went on to explain how things were going to go for the week and had me sign up for different events for us to capture and then finally edit once we got home. I reassured him that we make a good team and she’d be perfectly fine with me choosing events without her present. After how I left her earlier, I’m praying to everything good and holy in this world that she takes this news well. 

After I left the chronicle I drove to the closest grocery store to pick up some things for the hotel room. Better to be over prepared than under-prepared– just in case. At least I’m living up to Birdie’s nickname. However, if she remains this neurotic I might need to be drunk the whole time. Or maybe she does. Either way alcohol will be had whether it is a good idea or not. 

As I pull into the hotel parking lot, I say a silent prayer to myself. Choosing not to valet park even if it is easier. I’m fully capable of parking and don’t want to pay someone to park my car. I don’t care that it's just a rental. I slid into a parking spot and put it in park. Taking a second before exiting to gather my thoughts and prepare for whatever mood she might be in. 

Maybe she’ll be asleep. I’m not even sure if that's the better option. What if I wake her up? What if I wake her up and she's crankier than she was before? Maybe I should call Daniel for advice? Right, One Date Daniel would give me terrible advice. Not that this is about a woman I'm interested in, because it's not. I could try a brother? Which one would be most likely to give me good advice?

I scroll through my contacts, select the Tweedle Dee contact, and Facetime him. The contact names for the twins will never not make me laugh, and he is on my good side this week.

Jake’s worried face comes into view, and sounds a bit panicked, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” My eyes darted off to the side. 

He lets out a small sigh, “Hold on, let me go outside.” Seeing him make his way through the bar to the back area, where he sometimes sneaks away for private time. I never ask what he does out there. “Okay, so what is she doing?” He lets the door close behind him with just enough space so it doesn’t lock.

“She was cranky earlier, so I left. Now I'm outside the hotel in the parking lot, a bit worried about going back inside.”

His brow knits in confusion, “She’s not going to bite you?”

“I don't know, if you saw her earlier, you might not be so sure about that.” My eyebrows nearly reached my hairline.

“You’re gonna have to give me some context here.”

“She’s upset that there's one bed, and now we have to share. So I left for a bit. You know, give a woman space or whatever.” I trail off. 

“Jesus Christ.” He lets out an even heavier sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. 

Starting up my defense, “Isn’t that what you do when a woman is angry? You give her space? Let her calm down, and don't piss her off further? What if she’s still cranky when I get back in there? It's been a few hours. Surely she should be fine by now, right?” I pause. My stomach starts to tighten as panic bubbles just under the surface, ready to spill over at any second. “RIGHT?!”

“So the only reason she's upset is because there's only one bed?”

“Well, we tried to get a double room and couldn't and then maybe there's a possibility that we.. argued .. a little after.”

“And…?” He prods further. 

“And… I may or may not have shut the door .. angrily. And .. stormed out.” My thumb makes a motion over my shoulder, knowing he’s about to give me shit.

“So you left the situation visibly pissed off?”

“Yes.” I can feel him preparing the brotherly lecture. 

Jake has always been this way, the caring older brother. Josh looks out for me, too, but he does it in a way that is just so very.. Josh.

 Since we were little, Jake has always been more like a junior parent. Checking to see if I had finished my homework or needed help with it. Lending an ear when I needed to vent. I can’t count how many times I heard ‘Sam, don’t be a dumbass’ followed by actual good advice. My goal has always been to make my parents proud, but ‘I hope Jake is too’ is always the silent thought that follows.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna bode well for you, buddy.”

“I called you for advice, Jake.” I deadpan

“Have you tried reasoning with her?” He looks at me expectantly.

“I mean, no. I could when I get up there if I can even make it past the threshold without being accosted.”

“First of all, grow up. She’s barely five feet tall; what are you afraid of?” 

“You haven’t seen her mad, Jake.. she gets a little scary.”

“I don’t know– I saw her hand your ass to you at the bar,” He raises his eyebrows at me.

“Okay, now imagine that.. but worse.”

“She’s not the Hulk, Sammy. You’re just going to have to figure something out to survive the next few days.”

“Amazing advice, actually. Can’t believe I didn’t think of that before.” I roll my eyes. So much for the brotherly lecture.

“Communicate with her. Stop bickering with her because I know you are. Just.. find the compromise.” There it is.

“Find the compromise. Okay. I’ll just.. Find the compromise. I can do that, right?” He makes this sound so easy. ‘Just find the compromise’. No big deal. 

“Yeah. For sure. You got this, buddy,” He encourages me quietly, pausing for a second.  “Oh– and just a word of advice.. make sure you wrap it up.” He has the cheesiest grin on his face as he laughs to himself. He thinks he’s sooo funny.

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” and I hang up on him, annoyed. 

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The grocery bags are heavily weighing down my arms as I try to balance the boxes of alcohol in my hands. But I am not coming down for another trip if I can help it. I hip-check the door closed behind me. I balance the strategically placed tower of drinks on one hand, leaning it against my body, and lock the driver-side door behind me. Trying my best to be careful the whole way back to the room as I make my way through the obstacles of navigated doors and buttons until I reach room 422.

“Here we go.” The words barely whisper from my lips as I tap the keycard. Pulling the door handle down as slowly and quietly as I can and tiptoeing just in case there’s a chance that she's still sleeping. I ease the door back into the closed position with a soft click. Barely registering anything but Birdie’s bare skin, I let out a scream and run the nearest room.

“AHHHHH.” I rush into the bathroom and kick the door closed with my foot, leaning against it to catch my breath, dropping the back of my head to the door. The aggressive thuds of her knocking rattle against my head, causing my thoughts to get jumbled. What is she doing? I set all three cases of drinks on the counter and placed the grocery bags on the floor.

“Sam, what the hell. You scared the shit out of me!” her voice muffled by the heavy wood of the door.

I catch my reflection in the mirror, my eyes wide in shock, my chest rising and falling rapidly. That’s going to be an image I can’t get out of my head for a while. Clad in only a towel wrapped around her thin frame, working lotion up and down the leg she had propped up on the bed—the bed I now have to sleep in and not think about her lotioning herself up half-naked. I can feel the blood start to drain from my face and gather.. elsewhere. 

“Why are you naked?” I yell back, making sure to raise my voice enough that she can hear me clearly.

“Naked?! I’m in a towel, for fucks sake!” 

I place my palms on the cool surface of the sink counter, focusing on the chilled granite. Trying to calm my mind and redirect my thoughts so I don’t accidentally walk out there with a raging hard-on. She was only lotioning her legs; why am I turned on? Has it really been that long since I’ve gotten laid? Jesus Christ.

“I know, but why are you out there?”

“I was just putting lotion on my legs, Sam. The air is still dry on the West Coast, you know. Can you unlock the door and be an adult for 5 seconds?” I can picture the look of distaste she undoubtedly has on her face. Her skin looked so soft…. Stop it, Sam.

“Fine, just get dressed, and then I’ll come out.” Pushing my weight off the counter, I  face the door, waiting for her to give me the okay. 

“I can’t. My clothes are in there.” Her voice is quieter than before. 

Fuck me. 

My eyes catch the sight of her ‘clothes’ sitting folded on the toilet. I pick up her matching bra and panty set. It’s a deep teal blue color and fucking lace. See-through lace arranged in a little flower pattern. What have I done to deserve this level of torture? Jesus Christ, Birdie, what are you doing to me? This is absolutely not helping the flow of blood to places that do not need it right now. 

“This is what you call clothes? I suppose this is what you’re gonna wear to dinner tonight?” 

“Sam! Can you just give me my underwear so I can get dressed, please?” I imagine she's stood on the other side of the door, huffing and puffing with her arms crossed. Half naked. In a towel. Not currently wearing underwear. Oh god. 

Opening the door only enough to stick my hand out, I dangle her undergarments on the other side. She bites out a very sassy ‘thank you’ as she snatches the fabric from my fingers. 

She starts to rustle around before she pipes up with, “Did you say dinner?” She’s on the far end of the room now, her voice barely audible.

 Finally, a normal conversation so I don’t have to think about Birdie and her sexy panties. Why is she even wearing sexy panties? On a work trip? With a person she supposedly hates? Or is that just the type of underwear she wears all the time? Questions for later, Sam. No, not later. Questions for never. You don’t need those answers.

“Uhm,” taking a moment to clear my throat. “Yeah, I thought you’d probably be hungry by now, and you might want to try and find a place to eat.”

“Dress code?” 

“Nothing fancy.” 

More rustling of what I can only assume is her going through her suitcase to find something to wear before I hear a small “okay.”

I gather up all the groceries and open the door, slowly entering the bedroom. I resist the urge to drop my jaw in response. My eyes carve a path down her body. Her layered gold necklaces hit just above her cleavage, not too much shown but just enough to make any man feel a little insane at the idea of what’s underneath. And by any man, I mean me. A simple black long-sleeve shirt is tucked into a pair of belted medium-wash, slightly wider-legged jeans. If she wasn’t such a pain in my ass, I’d tell her how stunning she looks right now. 

“What did you buy?” her voice breaks me from my thoughts.

“Huh?”

She points to my overstuffed arms and then grabs a clip to secure her hair half-up. Adjusting a few pieces of hair by her ears to match her bangs. My face feels hot.

“Oh,” I let out a nervous laugh, “I just bought some drinks and snacks for the hotel or maybe for you to fit in your purse or something tomorrow. I checked in at the Chronicle and I don’t know how often we’ll be able to eat with the schedule they have set up. Thought it would be easiest.” I shrug awkwardly. 

“We had to check in? Why didn’t you come and get me?” The concern was deeply written all over her face. Did I make a mistake not waking her up? 

“I thought you could use the sleep.. or space. I told them you got a little sick on the plane and that you’d be perfectly fine tomorrow no one batted an eye about it. Charlie, the director, even told me to tell you he hopes you feel better.” Quickly rushing the words out. Her face softens, so I continue. “We had to sign up for some events to capture, so I hope you don’t mind that I chose for both of us. I tried to pick things we both might enjoy.” 

Her stomach grumbles loudly, interrupting our conversation. “That’s fine, I guess.” Birdie never fails to be a skeptic. “What did you get at the store?”

“Uhh,” walking over to the desk and setting everything down. Suddenly realizing how leaden everything has become as my muscles tense up. “Water and 2 kinds of alcohol– I didn’t know what you liked, but I thought beer and seltzer was a safe bet. I also got some cliff bars for snacks, goldfish because you seemed to like those at the airport, Uncrustables with strawberry jelly because it's definitely better than the grape, and a few other random things.”

I take a step back and allow her to poke through some of the remaining items. She picks out a peanut butter Cliff bar, opens it, and takes a bite. Her eyes roll in the back of her head, and she lets out a small moan. Don’t even think about it. 

“God, this is good.” She pauses mid-chew and looks at me again with soft eyes. “Thank you. This was all really thoughtful of you.”

Shrugging my shoulder and waving her off, I say, “Don’t act so shocked. I’m a delight.” It also might have been my attempt to try and apologize for storming out earlier, but we may not be on the level of verbal apologies quite yet. 

She rolls her eyes.

“So dinner?” I ask again.

“Definitely dinner.” She takes the last bite, throws her wrapper in the trash, and grabs a pair of shiny black ankle boots. Suddenly I’m reminded that I’m wearing the same henley from the airport. 

“Actually, let me change my shirt before we leave.” Leaving out the part where it’s because she makes me feel underdressed because she looks so fucking good for no reason. Rummaging through my duffel bag I find a navy blue button-up shirt. Yeah this should do, dressy enough to match her vibe. Not that I’m trying to match her or anything. Grabbing the back of the neckline, I pull my henley off and hear a small ‘oh’ escape Birdie’s lips.

“A little warning next time.” Facing the wall now.

“Who knew a shirtless man would get you this hot and bothered? Don’t worry, I won't tell anyone.” Teasing her lightly, and walking up to her as I slide on my shirt. I stop just short of touching her. “You should know I sleep topless too,” I whisper in her ear, buttoning the bottom few buttons.

“Jesus.” she sighs loudly, and I laugh in response. “I’m gonna call the Uber.”

“No need; I actually picked up the rental car, too, so we can just drive.” Pulling the keys from my pocket and giving them a wiggle, she turns back around to face me. Not missing the way her eyes rove over the part of my chest that's exposed by the few buttons I’ve left open.

“Oh good.” She pauses and gives me a once-over. “A button-up and sweatpants, now that's a look.” 

“Very funny. I thought maybe I’d change my pants in the bathroom so you don’t need a cold shower before we leave. Unless, of course, you want to see me in my boxers.” Wiggling my eyebrow at her.

She turns to face the wall again. “Just hurry up; I’m starting to get hangry.”

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We make our way down the interstate to a restaurant she chose. A little seafood place down by the water, ‘it even has options you can eat,’ she said. Another decision was made in a silent attempt at an apology. No reason for her to be upset at me still if we’re eating somewhere she picked. 

The sun has fully set, and the lights of the night are starting to come alive. The skyline by the ocean is gorgeous, propped against the night sky. Never having been to the West Coast before I’m very curious how the seaside life differs here from back home. The skylines are different, the views are different, and even the smell of the ocean air is different. I know I've only just gotten here, and I’m only here for a week, but my heart pangs with a bit of homesickness.

“So glad you could come back to the land of the living I’ve been starving for like an hour.” Teasing her has become one of my favorite pastimes.

She shifts uncomfortably in the passenger seat.

“Why didn’t you just get food earlier? Why wait for me?” She sounds a little defensive.

“Right,” I chuckle, “and endure the wrath of you when you wake up rested but hungry? No thanks. I might be dumb, but I am not stupid.” 

“That’s debatable.” The cheeky undertone laced thickly through her words. “But I appreciate it. I would have most definitely been cranky had you eaten and left me to fend for myself.”

“See. Like I said, I’m a delight.” I return the undertone.

“Again, debatable.” She repeats, laughing.

Birdie leads us as we walk up to the front of the restaurant, following along the paved pathway. Trailing not far behind her, I take in the view of the front terrace. Romantic string lights hang above the tables filled with people laughing. I focus on where she’s walking instead of eavesdropping on conversations as I pass by.  The hostess leads us inside to a small table next to a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows facing right at the Oakland Bay Bridge. 

I will never get tired of an ocean view. Something about the water just puts me at ease: the way the waves ebb and flow, crashing at the shoreline and sailboats slowly passing. The water will always feel like home. 

I pull out Birdie’s chair because I am, in fact, a gentleman, and then take my seat across from her. 

“This view is incredible.” She leans in and whispers to me across the table. I nod in response. She looks like a little kid in a candy store. The glint of childlike wonder still left in her eyes. I admire the way she seems to find these little pockets of joy when we take these trips. She takes out her phone and snaps a few pictures, scrolling through the options, occasionally showing me one, and asking my opinion on a lighting change or a filter she’s chosen. I wonder who she’s going to send these to? 

I pull out my own phone and check my messages. One sits unread from Daisy. When did she text me? 

Daisy 🌼 : Hope the flight went okay. Text me when you’re free.

Great, while I’ve been thinking about Birdie in her lacy underwear, Daisy has been waiting for me to text her back. All. Day. Nice going, Sam. This is probably why I’m still single.

Trying my best to come up with a response that doesn’t sound like a forced excuse, and I ultimately settle on; 

Me: Sorry, it’s been a crazy busy day trying to get everything in order. We’re having dinner right now. I'll text you when I get back to the hotel.

Once the waitress comes back and takes our orders, the interrogation starts.

“So Samuel.” She eyes me skeptically.

I cock my eyebrow up at her. 

“What’s the itinerary? I need to know if I should be mad at you or not.” She continues, smirking at me. My mouth hangs open in playful shock.

“I think I did fairly well, thank you.” Sitting up straight and tugging on the bottom of my shirt. Her gaze follows down my chest and snaps back up to my eyes. A light blush warms her cheeks, but she plays it off despite me noticing. 

“Oh, you do, do you? Lay it on me then.” She waves her arms at me. I pull out the pamphlets from my inside jacket pocket.

“I actually got all the pamphlets for you to look through because I just know you have a million questions.”

“It's not wrong to want to be well-informed, Sam.” She pans through the papers.

“Well, don’t you worry your pretty little head; all the information is right there.” I tap on the pamphlet she’s holding. “Tomorrow, we’re going to a brewery.”

“A brewery?” She meets my eyes; her cheeks darken even more. 

“Yeah, we get to do the behind-the-scenes stuff to see how it's all made.” 

“And you thought that was something I’d enjoy?” She asks.

“No, this one was for me. For you, on Wednesday, we’re going to an event at a local bookstore. I think the author will even be there.” Taking a sip of my beer.

“Why’d you choose a bookstore for me?”

“You were glued to your Kindle the whole time we were flying despite not actually opening it. I assumed you brought it because you do actually like to read when you’re not acting psychotic about being in the air.”

“I was not psychotic!” she exclaims, defending herself.

All I do is give her a pointed stare.

She scoffs, “Carry on.” 

“Friday is a big day. There’s a festival in the morning, and in the afternoon, we have a studio session with a photographer. I think they set that up for us as a thank you.” 

Her eyes light up. “A studio session?”

“Yeah, we’ll get to talk to a photographer and watch them shoot and stuff. No idea who it is, Charlie didn’t say.” The look on her face tells me this has piqued her interest.

“There’s also the Photography Gala Awards on Friday evening. I think that's what the fancy attire is for. All of the candidates are going to be there for it.” 

I’ve only just gotten my first glimpse of Birdie in attire that isn’t work or hiking-related. The thought of her in a gown makes me swallow down the lump in my throat harshly. 

All night, I’ve been watching her short, loose curls shake and sway with her animated expressions. When she starts talking about something she enjoys, she zones in. When she gets going long enough, she’ll stop mid-sentence and try to change the subject with an ‘anyway…’ I just redirect her, relishing in the tangents a few times tonight.

I’m used to the crease in her brow or her eyes big with worry. Now, there are crinkles near her eyes. She’s covering her mouth as she’s laughing like she’s trying to shove the sound back inside before someone notices. As if she dared to enjoy an evening, but it only lasted for so long before she was tossing her head back and barking out with laughter. 

I think I could get used to that sound. It's a sugary-sweet sound I could get addicted to, though I hardly hear or see this version of her. A smile spreads on my lips.

I pause for a moment, noticing how easy it's been to get along since we got here. 

What’s different? 

A little banter but no attitudes, no shortness, and no sassy comments. Just pleasant and easy banter. Maybe after consuming a few drinks and getting some food in our bellies, we both feel a bit lighter. Buzzing. Her laugh starts to echo through my brain the longer we sit here like a broken record on a loop. She blinks away the tears that form in her eyes when she giggles for too long.

It’s nice to see her like this. Especially after seeing how tightly wound she got about flying. I think we both needed a nice outing more than we realized. 

When there’s a slight dip in conversation I catch her staring off to the view of the Oakland Bay Bridge. It bears the same shape as the iconic Golden Gate Bridge, but it’s the silver gray of metal instead of red, stretching right along the wall of windows we’re sat next to. The delicate ambient lights twinkle in her eyes; it’s like I can feel her longing to be on the other side of the glass. Like she’s being trapped in this restaurant. Not trapped with me, but trapped within the confines of the walls encasing us. I’m surprised she didn’t choose to sit on the terrace. I think about asking her why, but don’t want to interrupt whatever moment she’s having. 

Maybe we will have time to go for a walk or something after..

Our food lay finished in front of us, and our drinks nearing empty, so I excused myself to the bathroom. Parting with some joke about how I didn’t get the chance before we left because I was too busy hiding from her. While I wasn’t entirely lying about needing to use the bathroom, I did take a pit stop by the hostess stand on the way back to track down our waitress. 

“There you are; I was worried you fell in.” She jests as I take my seat again. She’s holding in another giggle.

“I got lost.” blatantly lying to her. Little white lies can’t hurt.

“Are you sure you should be driving home if you get lost finding the bathroom?”

“You know, you’re right. I didn’t think to use my GPS to find the restroom.” Matching her giggle.

Before she can respond with a snarky comment, I spot our waitress rounding the corner. Her hands are full of a dessert plate with a sparkler in the center, and two more coworkers follow closely behind. When they come within earshot, they start rhythmic clapping: “A little birdie told us it was your birthday.” She leans in close to her. “You see what I did there?”

Her eyes are wide in confusion as the waiters start singing a little happy birthday chant. Her mouth is hung slightly open, and I’m trying my best not to let loose the laugh that is begging to escape me. I cover my mouth, trying to keep it all in, and tears start to form in my eyes. 

The waitress sets the dessert in front of Birdie. ‘Happy Birthday Birdie!’ Is written on the large plate in chocolate syrup next to a piece of vanilla cake with white frosting and raspberries on top. A small scoop of what looks to be cookies and cream ice cream rests next to it. 

She can hate me all she wants, but a free dessert looks so worth it. Reaching for one of the two forks they brought for us, I try to grab a bite of cake.

“Aht Ah.” She stops my arm before I reach my destination. “Sammy, what did you do?” raising an eyebrow at me

My heart squeezes at the nickname she rarely uses.

“I wanted a free dessert, Sue me.” 

Her sugary, sweet laugh dances through my ears again. I’m not nearly close enough to drunk to have her keep affecting me this way. She can’t even stand to be around me half the time.

“Well, since it’s my birthday. I should get the first bite, shouldn’t I?”

“You wouldn’t even have this cake if not for my little white lie.” 

“Proud of lying, are you? Besides, you're going to do that man thing where you say, ‘Oh, let me have a bite,’ and then half my cake is gone in one fell swoop.”

My mouth hangs open for a second, before dramatically saying, “Your cake?! I only told them it was your birthday because I couldn’t very well say ‘Hi, it's my birthday. Give me a free dessert,’ now could I?” 

“I guess I can share.” She grabs a fork and takes what I can only assume is a Birdie-approved bite and a few raspberries and aims it at my mouth. “I don’t much like raspberries anyway.” Is she trying to feed me right now?

“You don’t like raspberries?” I question.

“Nope.” She pops the p slightly. She wiggles the fork at me again, signaling me to open. Apparently, that’s a yes, so I hesitantly open my mouth. 

To anyone sitting by, I’m sure we look like a loving couple sharing a dessert for my sweetheart’s birthday in a beautiful city. But the reality is that my coworker, who hates me, is feeding me, and I have no idea what course of events has led me to this moment. 

She slowly removes the utensil from my lips, and I make eye contact with her the whole time. She turns the brightest shade of red I think I’ve ever seen her get. 

She clears her throat and knits her brow, looking back down at the plate. “How is it?”

It’s a moment before I answer, trying to get a read on her expression or a sense of where she’s at right now. A different side of Birdie is the theme of this evening.

“Delicious, actually.” Not looking away from her face. “You should try it.” 

“Oh..” she trails off with an exhale. She watches my movements as I pick up the other fork, and grab a little bit of cake comparable to the size she chose for me. Avoiding the raspberries completely, I top it off with a little bit of ice cream. 

“You don’t..” She starts, but I interrupt.

“Come on, It’s only fair.” Now, it’s my turn to waggle the fork at her. “I’ll feed you like a little bird.” I inch the bite of delicious cake toward her, and she leans in, wrapping her lips around the food and slowly pulling off. I try not to get caught up in how plush her lips look as she pulls on the fork. Try not to imagine the way those lips would look wrapped around my co–

“I was worried for a second you might actually babybird me. I think that would get us kicked out or put on some list.” She laughs. “You were right; the cake is delicious.” 

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Birdie POV

The realization hits me like a ton of bricks as I look at my reflection in the mirror while I’m brushing my teeth. I thought I was going to be rooming alone, and my pajamas definitely reflect that. Though they’re not super risque, the emerald green silky matching shorts and tank top are a bit more alluring than I would like to appear in front of Sam right now. 

Curse Quinn for making me feel insecure about these pjs. I look good, but I suddenly feel a little inappropriate. I’ll repay the favor at some point.

I spit into the sink and rinse off my toothbrush, placing the protective travel cap back on. Taking a deep breath, I open the door and enter the common space again. Sam has turned the AC on high, it's like a damn ice box in here. Of course, he did. I try to act as cool and calm as I can as I walk in front of the TV, and his eyes land on me. Sam’s already in bed covered up to his waist with the blanket and thankfully wearing a shirt. He has his hair tied up in a bun, with a few strands hanging out by his face. 

That really shouldn’t be attractive, but it is. Truthfully, the fact that this man is so hot makes me angry because it just shouldn’t be allowed.

 His eyes follow me as I reach my side of the bed and crawl in; I yank the covers up to my shoulders to cover my suddenly hard nipples. 

I pray to God he didn’t notice them. I don’t have high hopes for that, though. 

The silence is deafening, and I start to get uneasy. Both of us are just staring at the television that hasn’t been turned on. 

Before I can stop myself I say, “I thought you slept topless or whatever.” to break the silence—immediately regretting having the ability to speak. His head slowly turns toward me, and I refuse to face him. 

“I put a shirt on, so I don’t make you uncomfortable, but I can be naked if that's what you want?” 

I search for any hint of teasing in his words, but I come up short. Instantly, I’m on the defensive. 

“Sleep however you want, Sam. I don’t care.” Because truthfully, I don’t. I don’t care if he wants to wear a shirt to bed. Or if he wants to be shirtless. Hell, he can sleep stark naked for all I care.

Actually.. Maybe not that. But shirtless is totally fine because I definitely do. Not. Care.

“Okay..” he says, a little weary, but he doesn’t move. 

The silence returns and my brain feels like it's going a bit stir crazy. I lean over to check for the remote, and come up empty. Leaning forward I check his nightstand as he watches me like he's trying to figure out if I’m about to bolt out of bed, but it's not there either. My eyes land on the little black box sitting on the dresser underneath the tv hung on the wall. 

Right. Well, I can’t possibly get up again without feeling exposed. 

Sam just stares at me as I stare at the remote. Maybe I’ll suddenly develop telekinesis and be able to move the remote over to me with just my mind. Then I wouldn’t have to move.

He’s still just staring at me.

He lets out a sigh, “For God’s sake.” 

He gets up, grabs the remote, and crawls back into bed. Placing the comforter back in its spot where it lay across his hips. I don’t allow myself to spend even a second on his hips. 

“Here,” He holds out the remote for me. 

“Thanks.” I take it from him and turn on the tv. Scrolling through the TV guide channel to find something interesting to watch before settling on Unsolved Mysteries. I set down the remote in between us. Suddenly aware of just how little space separates us despite this being a king sized bed.

God, he’s so close to me; it’s almost like I can feel his body heat radiating off of him. I’m sure I’m imagining that, though, because that’s just not possible. 

“You know what I think?” I say, breaking the silence once more. 

His eyes are back on me when he replies, “What’s that?”

“I think we need a barrier between us,” I say simply, but not elaborating further.

“A.. barrier?”

“Yes, we can put a couple of pillows between us.” 

“I’m a simple guy. I require two pillows, and I have two pillows. I’m not lending you any for whatever weird idea you’ve concocted to cope right now.” and he turns his attention back to the TV. 

“I’m gonna call the front desk to see if room service will send up some extras then.”

The phone rings and rings as I sit anxiously on my side of the bed, because of course the phone would be on my side of the bed. When we arrived earlier Sam had kicked his feet up and relaxed closest to the door, leaving the window side open for me. 

“Hello,” a younger-sounding woman answers the phone.

“Hi, This is Willa Clarke in room 422– I was wondering if I could have some extra pillows sent up?”

“We allow one extra pillow per guest in the room.”

“One extra pillow per guest?” I repeat quietly.

“I don’t need an extra one!” Sam yells from the other side of me. 

“There’s two of us in the room. Can we have two sent up, please?” I tell her, ignoring Sam's protest. I swear he’s doing all of this on purpose. We have one nice evening out, and I think maybe we might be able to get along for the remainder of this trip and have some sort of a friendship, and he ruins it by being a pain in the ass. It's like he just can't help himself.

“I do not need an extra one!” he repeats.

“Sure thing, I put your request right in.”

“Thank you.” I hang up and slowly crawl back in bed, making sure I cover myself up to my shoulders. Quinn’s comments are still ringing through my ears. 

“You just thrive on being a pain in my ass, don’t you, Sam?”

“I would never.” He’s relaxed in bed, the blankets still only covering his waist. His relaxed posture sets me on edge at this moment. Clad in only his boxers and a ‘Downeast’ raglan shirt with royal blue sleeves, the blanket resting comfortably at his hips. His shirt was probably given to him by his brother from the bar he owns. I thank my lucky stars once again that he’s not half-naked.

  A few minutes later, there's a knock on the door, followed by “Room Service!” from the other side.

I didn’t entirely think this through. In my definitely not sexy pajamas, now I have to cross in front of the TV, effectively putting me in his line of vision, to open the door. Because who do you suppose is going to get up to open the door? Naturally, Sam doesn’t budge, so I slip out of bed to answer it. 

Cracking the door and standing to the side, hiding behind it I answer with a small “Hi” so the man standing on the other side can’t see anything besides my head. 

“We had a request from this room for an extra pillow?” He sticks the singular pillow through the opening I’ve made. Sam's bellyaching strikes again, leaving me with just one extra pillow for this god-forsaken barrier. I’m trying not to overreact about this whole thing. 

“Thank you,” I say, taking the pillow from his hand.

Deep breath in. 

“Just call us if you need anything else, ma’am.” He nods his head at me and turns away, and I shut the door. 

And release.

I let out the breath I had been holding to center myself. 

One pillow will have to work. I’m going to take Quinn’s advice and just try to deal with this on my own. 

Crossing in front of him again, I slip back into my side of the bed with the pillow in hand. Lifting the covers, I put the pillow between us so it stands on its side.

“Pillow barrier.” I point to it and settle back in bed.

“Are you worried you’re gonna cuddle me in the middle of the night or something?” He asks, not bothering to tear his eyes away from the TV. 

“No, I just feel like, as coworkers, we should have boundaries.”

“Boundaries?”

“Boundaries,” I repeat. 

He doesn’t respond, just pulls out his phone and casts his attention elsewhere. Probably texting someone else..

I take a note from him and pull my phone out. Sending a quick message to Quinn, my only friend it appears. 

Me: I’m ready for this trip to be over already..

My battery percentage is dangerously low. Sitting up and spotting my bag to the left, I lean over to reach the part where the extra phone charger that Sam lent me is tucked away, but it's just out of reach—not bothering to get up from bed because I don’t want to have to stand in front of him in my pj’s again. Not that I should be embarrassed about anything. I am, in fact, fully clothed, but I can’t seem to get out of my own head about it.

Just a little further…

Anddd..

Gotcha!

I grab the charger and pull back so fast that I lose my balance trying to get back into bed. 

“Ohhh.” is the last thing out of my mouth as I come face to face with the carpet.

A strong grip on my bicep saves me from face-planting on the ground. My ass is fully uncovered, and my shorts have ridden up my cheeks. This man has a full view of my nearly bare ass right now. 

“Jesus Christ.” He pulls me back to the bed.

The blood starts to dissipate from my head, and it feels less foggy.

“Are you capable of going a full 24 hours without nearly injuring yourself?” He sets me straight but doesn’t remove his arm.

“Yes, absolutely?” I’m slightly offended.

“You sure about that?” he's wearing a small smirk as if he doesn’t believe a single word coming out of my mouth.

“Yes, Sam. I bet you I can go the next 24 hours without a clumsy episode.” I say, crossing my arms, and he releases his grip.

“Okay. If I win, you have to do whatever activity I choose on our free day on Saturday before we leave.”

“And if I win?”

“Whatever you want, Bird.” He shrugs in the stupid way he always does.

“If I win, we have a cot sent up to the room, and that’s where you sleep until we have to leave. There will be no more pillow barrier, no more sharing, just this big ol king-sized bed to myself.” 

“Deal.”

“Fine.” He holds his hand out, and we shake on it. 

“With that, I’m going to bed.” He sets his phone on the nightstand and switches off his lamp. He leans back in bed, sleeping on his back, still one hand behind his head and the other casually on the barrier pillow. The blanket is still only waist-high. I hate that he’s so hot.

“Sam..” I say quietly. He hums lowly. “Can I keep the TV on?”

“Whatever you want, Bird.” He says for the second time.

Quinn: What scandalous thing is Samatron up to now? 

Me: Nothing, we had a relatively nice dinner and we came back to the hotel and it was right back to pain in the ass central.

Me: I miss my bed.

Me: And your breakfast sandwiches 🙁

Sam’s snores start to drown out the sound of unsolved mysteries playing on the tv. I try to close my eyes and relax, but all I can think about is the course of events today. It feels like this day has been the longest in existence. The nap, in retrospect, was probably not the best idea, given the fact that I can’t sleep now. Though, I think Sam might have feared for his life if he had to deal with me after all of that. I truly don’t blame him for passing out so quickly, though I am jealous as hell. 

I click the volume on the TV up another few notches. Knowing he’s been up all day I try to reason with myself to not get angry at the sound of his snores filling the room. But seriously, how does one man snore so loud? His phone starts to buzz every few seconds on his nightstand. I let out a whine, and he stirs a little in his sleep. His arm was still tucked behind his head, and his mouth was slightly open. At least he looks more peaceful than he sounds. 

Buzz.

Buzz buzz.

Snore.

Buzz buzz.

Snore.

Buzz.

Snore.

Buzz.

Every few minutes. This is my hellscape. If I had known I’d be rooming with someone, moreover a man, I might have had the foresight to bring earplugs of some sort, but I’ve been robbed of that decision. 

After one particularly long buzz from his phone, followed by another snore.. I break.

Snatching up the pillow barrier, I swiftly smack him in the head with the pillow. He jumps up and stares at me, his sleepy eyes barely open. I know I’m seeing red, I know I look crazy, but I don’t care. 

Don’t blame me for the things I do while I'm sleep-deprived, okay? No normal person could handle all of this.

He sits up on one elbow.

“What time is it?” His voice is thick with sleep. 

“Nearly one am.” I put the pillow back between us.

“You can’t sleep, so you need me to be awake, too?”

“You were snoring.”

“I was asleep.” He says, like it’s obvious.

Oh, I’m aware, Samuel.

Buzz.

“Your phone has been going crazy. So please tell whoever it is that so desperately needs to speak to you at this god-forsaken hour to kindly, shut up.” 

Leaning over, he checks his phone. He types out a few things, clears some notifications, and sets his phone back on the nightstand. Before he resumes his sleeping position, he leans forward, grabs the collar of his shirt, and yanks it up and over his head.

And now he’s naked. Lucky stars.. Gone.

He settles back in bed and says, “Group chat. Was just my brothers. It’s on ‘do not disturb’ till the morning. Happy?” And I should be happy– no more buzzing. But I’m not. I’m not happy and now I’m more irritated because I can feel my chest tighten and a wave of heat flash across my cheek.

“Sure,” I respond because how am I supposed to answer that while I’m this irritated without making everything worse?

“Great.” There’s a pause before he continues, “Oh, and Bird, if you hit me with the pillow again, you're going to lose the extra pillow privileges.”

I just want to fall asleep. 

I just want to fall asleep and not think about Sam half-naked next to me.

In only his boxers.

I look over at him. The glow of the TV cast shadows on his bare back. He’s surprisingly tan for the time of year and where he’s from. His skin looks smooth and soft; I have to fight the urge to reach out and touch him. To trace pictures on the canvas of his skin.

All fondness of his sleeping form goes out the window when he snores again. If he lets out one more snore, I may actually cry. This is how people get committed to insane asylums. Or plead guilty by reasons of insanity for murder. For these exact situations.

Snore.

“Fuck,” comes out, somewhere between a mixture of a whine and a whisper. I check the time on my phone, 1:47 am. 

Another snore.

That’s it. 

Pulling out the extra pillow, I hit him again, “Sam, you’re doing it again.” I whine.

Sam sits up and slowly turns toward me. More tendrils of hair rest against his face, and he looks like steam might come out of his ears at any second.

“That’s it! Pillow privileges officially revoked!” he growls lowly. There’s a slight flutter between my legs at the sound of his voice, but I don’t linger on it.

“Hey!” I spout back as we begin a tug-of-war over the offensive weapon I used to accost him. He yanks harder than I expect as he tries to free my grip, and I end up smacking my shoulder into him, but my fists remain tight. Pulling back with as might as I can muster, he gives in and lets me fall backward but doesn’t let go of the pillow. I hit the bed with a light thud. 

It's like he’s able to see one step ahead of me while I’m struggling behind, chasing after him. He pushes the pillow toward me with a locked strong arm, and kneels in front of my curled legs. He leans forward, both hands grabbing the pillow now. He’s towering over me, the warmth of his skin burns against my shins and I push trying to pry him away from me a bit. 

It’s no use. 

He has at least eight or so inches on me in height and much more body weight. I open my legs and allow him closer into my space. He lets go of the pillow and instead aims for my wrists. Pulling one from its tight grip and pinning it to the bed at my side. He grabs the pillow with his opposite hand and tosses it over his shoulder to the floor by the side of his bed. He doesn’t bother pinning my other hand to the bed. Just uses his free hand to support his weight. 

Despite his very obvious show of strength against me, though, I’m not scared.

There’s something still gentle about him. His fingers wrapped around my wrist tightly, but not tight enough that I couldn’t part from his grasp if I really wanted.

My face is screwed up in frustration, though, and I let out a huff and surrender. 

He’s won. 

I hate that. 

Exhaling, I open my eyes and find his already on mine. They look nearly black in the dim light, the TV casting shadows from behind. I can’t read the expression on his face, but I know without a doubt there’s not a single shred of anger inside of him right now. He looks.. contemplative if anything. 

He’s even more beautiful this close. I take in the slight curve to his brow, how it's slightly knitted in the middle. He’s always been a handsome man since the moment I met him. No matter how much he irritated me at that moment, I couldn’t lie to myself about that fact.

The gold necklace he always wears sways slightly forward and backward as he catches his breath from our wrestling match. I wonder if that's what it looks like when he’s –

 I clear my throat loudly and close my eyes again, suddenly very aware of our questionable position. If I think too hard, I can feel where our pelvises meet. A heat builds there. only two very thin pieces of fabric separating intimate skin from one another. The silk of my shorts pressed firmly against me; the second we moved, I know there will be a damp spot left behind. That thought alone makes a rush of heat settle between my legs as I clench slightly. I worry he can tell the effect he's having over me by simply being in my atmosphere. 

It’s just the position. It's just the fact that you haven’t gotten laid in a while, Birdie. It's not him. 

Willa god. 

Willa. Not Birdie. 

Fuck.

Daring to open my eyes again, his are still locked on my face. His lips slightly parted in a way that can only be considered sinful. If it was any colder in here, I could see the breath as it exhaled from his lips. 

Have his lips always looked so.. kissable?

Kissable?! I do not want to kiss him. 

He starts to lean down, and I freeze.

What is he –

“Are we really fighting over a pillow right now?” he whispers into my ear. The husky tone of his voice hits me right in my core, and I resist the urge to squeeze my legs around him tighter. 

What’s he playing at? 

If it’s a game he wants, it's a game he's gonna get.

I pull myself up onto my free elbow, our chests nearly touching now. He leans back to catch a view of my face, and I keep my eyes on him. 

“I don’t know, Sammy. You tell me?”

My breathing is faster and heavier now, my hardened nipples barely brushing him on each inhale. I lick my lips. Slowly tracing my upper lip and then my bottom before my tongue finds its home back in my mouth. 

He lets out a laugh through his nose, mimicking my movements and setting his jaw in place. Scanning every inch of me– meeting my eyes, the undoubted flush of my cheeks, he scans from side to side, tracing the freckles at home there. He settles on my lips for a moment too long, only growing more intense when I breathe in deeply. 

“If you want to play this game,” His voice drops an octave, “Little bird, I promise you will lose.” Those words set a fire in me; his tone, his stare, all of it. Before I can control myself, I let out a small whine and contract the muscles in my stomach, causing my hips to shift up. Rubbing my clothed pussy against his cock, and it twitches against me. 

We both freeze. 

How the fuck did we get into this position.

The energy shifts, and we quickly pull apart. Rolling away from each other and settling into the far sides of the bed. Far away from each other.

Far away.

Mumbling out simultaneous goodnights, we pretend as if none of this happened. I close my eyes tightly and try to will the thoughts away long enough to fall asleep.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

A hot breeze cascades against my thigh; Sam is lying down on his stomach, perched between my thighs.

“Sammy, what are you doing?” I ask.

“Shhh.” He slides his left arm under my knee, wrapping it around and finding comfort on my thigh. He pushes the comforter off of him, letting the cool air surround us. “Lie back, relax.” His lips lay a trail of kisses up the inside of my thigh, pausing momentarily each time he met my skin. A small, barely audible “oh” escapes my lips as I fall back into my pillow.

“Is this okay?” he asks. His eyes are soft on mine, like a puppy dog waiting expectantly for you to praise him or scold him. I nod my head, and he leans up to press a kiss just below the waistband of my shorts. His hands slide up my hips and hook themselves around the fabric. “May I?” 

For all the teasing, taunting, and banter we have, I wouldn’t expect him to be so polite. 

“Please.” It comes out more breathless than I anticipated. 

I throb at the unknown. 

What is his plan?

What do his fingers feel like?

What does his mouth feel like? 

I lift my ass, and he pulls my shorts down my thighs slowly.

Too slowly.

Agonizingly slow. He tosses them to the floor beside the bed. His hands trace my shins, stopping at my knees. His eyes find mine once more as he gently spreads my legs open, exposing myself to him. However, he doesn’t chance a look. 

His eyes remain locked on mine as he slinks back down to resume his original spot between my thighs. I swallow hard, anxiously awaiting his next movement. I bite my lip, and only then does he lower his mouth to me. 

“Oh,” falls from my lips as his mouth makes contact; his plush lips warm against my already excited clit. Aching for him to move, he swirled his tongue around the swollen bud. 

“Mmm, Sammy,” I moaned. 

I can feel his lips pull into a smirk against me, pausing for a second, “You taste even sweeter than I dreamt,” pressing a slow kiss against me before mumbling, “My little bird.” 

His tongue proceeds to lap at me like he’s starving and desperate for anything. My hips fight the urge to grind against him; he places his left hand gently on my pubic bone, holding me in place. His right hand slid up the inside of my thigh, his fingers teasing me. 

Writhing in pleasure, waiting for the moment, he finally slides his middle finger into me. Even just with one, the full feeling has me reeling— I can feel my orgasm just taunting me. 

He hooks his finger up as if he’s telling me to ‘come closer,’ he massages that sensitive spot like a professional. Slipping a second finger in, I’m overwhelmed with pleasure— 

“Oh, Sam,” comes out of my mouth, loud.

Suddenly, my eyes shoot open. Oh..my..god.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Author's Note: I hope this makes up for their little hiatus 🫶🏻

Chapter Seven

Sparrow of the Dawn Masterpost | Masterlist

Taglist (:

@gvfsstardust @myleftsock @mindastreamofcolours

@dont-go-home-without-me @literal-dead-leaf @lizzys-sunflower ,

@mackalah , @klarxtr , @edgingthedarkness , @writingcold , @takenbythemadness

@i-love-gvf @ladywhimsymoon , @earthgrlsreasy , @peaceloveunitygvf ,

@gretavanfan @musicspeaks , @anythingforjtk

@smoking-jakelane @jazzyfigz @demonrat444

@josh-iamyour-mama @wrldabomination @gvf-luna

@sanguinebats @lightmy-love @monkeylaura627

@lallisonl @fleetingjake

[jackoshadows]

Sansa not even knowing of Arya's or Jeyne's marriage to Ramsay is an indication of how little Petyr Baelish has told her and the readers of his grand schemes, plans and secret BTS plotting.

Which is one reason why we cannot take any of what Baelish tells Sansa at face value, considering everything he is not telling her.

We can pick up some clues here and there. The food that he is hoarding for his price gouging scheme informs me that he is aware that the food situation has become dire.

At the same time, while Littlefinger appears omnipotent in how much he controls and manipulates situations, we can also see there are other events that are beyond his control and will end up putting a spanner in the works.

For one, Baelish is only able to keep ahead of situations with a lot of luck (Tyrion not exposing him) and with the help of information available to him from an extensive spy network that lets him know of what is happening where and who is doing what. Ex. Dontos telling him of the Tyrell plot to marry Sansa to Willas.

It's easy to have spies in King's Landing (We get a little tidbit of LF asking for some tapestries...). Same with the Riverlands given that Littlefinger has reason to be interested in what's happening there as Lord Paramount of the Riverlands.

The rest of the realm and Essos is harder but doable with respect to public events and information that is trickling in everywhere. Like the current chaos in Meereen or the attack on Old Town or the Golden Company and Aegon Targaryen. Dorne (and the separate Quentyn/Arianne plots) would be near impossible considering how secretive Doran Martell has been.

Also trickier is the North considering how isolated it is, the weather and a lot of secretive plotting behind the scenes.

I doubt Littlefinger knows about Robb's will/decree considering it was witnessed and signed by select lords - most of whom are dead, imprisoned or on their way North secretly. I don't think there is a possibility of spies there or anyone blabbing to someone else.

There's no way Littlefinger knows about Rickon because, again, no possibility of spies in Manderly and Glover's secret plotting with Davos given how stealthy they are being on account of the Freys in their camp.

There was a lot of noise recently about an AFfC draft which mentions LF getting a message from White Harbor. But again, what message? If he has a spy there then the information he is getting will about the Manderlys being forced into marriage and alliance with the Freys and the crown in KL.

If he plans to sail to White Harbor to unveil Sansa as the heir in Winterfell based on information he gets from WH, he's going to be in for a big surprise. I do think he will have to course correct because by the time the intrigue in the Vale is all settled, he will get news that the Boltons are defeated and that Rickon/Jon have taken Winterfell and the North. What will he do then? I think he will pivot towards the Riverlands. Or, he may focus on the Riverlands first before he gets the news of Rickon/Jon back in Winterfell .

Apart from Sam Tarly, the only other group who knows that Bran is still alive are select folks of the Mountain clans and again, I can't imagine a Littlefinger plant secretly sending him messages amongst these clans.

Same with Arya Stark. Littlefinger - along with the Lannisters and the Boltons - thinks that Arya is dead and knows an imposter is playing her in the marriage to Ramsay Bolton.

This is most likely a vital part of his plot to get rid of the Boltons by exposing fake Arya as Jeyne, revealing Alayne as Sansa Stark and lay claim to Winterfell through Sansa as the rightful heir just like Tywin intended to eventually do with Tyrion/Sansa. However, Arya Stark is alive and well and unencumbered by marriage and there are no spies or informants who know this.

Littlefinger most likely knows about what's happening at the Wall considering how much information is leaking out of there like a sieve. If Cersei is able to get information, then so can Baelish. He surely knows about Stannis at the Wall, Tycho passing through and will know about Jon's assassination and mutiny. What he does with that information will be interesting to read - how much he will reveal to Sansa, and in what form he will tell her the truth.

And that's what most exciting about all this. The lack of information on what's actually happening in the North that's going to thwart and throw a spanner in Littlefinger's grand plans while Daenerys does the same to Varys' grand schemes. I think it will be fun if events end up surprising these master players of the games.

Arya, Bran and Rickon to Littlefinger...

[the-cryptographer]

i am trying to regain my asoiaf thoughts.

I forgot how much of a creeper Jorah Mormont is (something the show utterly didn't capture imho). Him being weird and paternalistically horny for Dany has been building up for a while. But him kissing her happened quicker than I remember. But I think the real thing that is striking me about him this time is the fact that he was a slaver. Like... there are a lot of ways I think Ned was an ineffectually idealistic ruler, but if there's anything to say he was 100% correct about it was holding Jorah responsible for trying to sell poachers he had captured into slavery, and it's something Jorah is incredibly self righteous about! He genuinely feels Ned wronged him and that his position shouldn't have been compromised for trying to sell off the criminals he'd written off as scum! It's interesting to see the connection that Dany and Barristan make between that and his plan for Dany to buy an army of slaves.

And, ah, yeah, the slavery plot... I'm not actually sure how I feel about it so far. It does feel a bit saviour complex and more than a little defining slavery by human rights violations rather than a labour system. But I did really enjoy Dany talking about how she herself was sold as property to Drogo and that's part of the sympathy she feels for them now. And tbh I'm also really glad Dany is actually doing something this book. I feel like last book she mostly just sat around not having a real plot beyond reminding us she was still alive and kicking across the narrow sea.

Forgot we started getting Sam's pov this book and not next one. Not actually sure how I feel about any of the Wall plot either? It seems to be getting increasingly bloated split between two characters this book, but I am enjoying Mance and Tormund and Ygritte, and how the lore of what's beyond the wall is getting expanded. But I think the ideology of the Wildlings being sort of more palatable by modern standards than the ideology of the Night's Watch creates a sort of dissonance reading this section of the book.

I also remember being into Jon/Ygritte in the show and when I read this before, and part of me sees why and the other part of me ;w; idk, it feels weird bc Jon is such a loser and a putz and Ygritte is so cute and confident and forward with her affections. and with every fibre of my being I feel she deserves better than this idiot who will inevitably betray her, but it's also just so clear that she likes him terribly and wouldn't choose anyone else - and that's also the larger part of her charm. So idk we'll see how it goes.

Over in King's Landing, it took me a moment to put together, but realised that Petyr told the Lannisters about the Tyrells trying to match Sansa to Willas because he heard it from Dontos and it was getting in the way of his plans to spirit her away to the Eyrie :')

Am enjoying the Tyrells. idk, I remember a lot of old drama about how they're entirely self serving and Marg is manipulating Sansa and this is toxic and not wholesome yuri. And that's all true, but also who cares. Tyrells are all flambouyant and self-serving and amusing af, and negging each other like crazy while also still being so invested in one another. Nothing not to love.

Also noticing that pretty much every character has gotten a moment to interact with the song The Bear and the Maiden Fair. Repeating motif! Ngl making me really hyped for when it's going to come up in Jamie's chapters.

I think another big part of this reread has been me reevaluating what the Arya storyline is and what it's about. I remember first time I was reading it being just so annoyed with the Arya fandom the show created when book Arya was quite rightly being more overtly in conflict with becoming a ball of violence with no other fixed identity. But rereading her sections I really see they're about how the subjugation of this or that Lord of Westros is pretty much all the same to the common people. And I do think that's a perspective this narrative sorely needed.

Think the last thing I have to share for now is... Davos. I'm actually not sure how to feel about his whole sudden religious fervor for the Seven and his vengeance schtick with Melisandre, but I did really enjoy the whole section with him being suicidal on that rock. Idk, it felt very visceral and familiar to me.

[citychronicles]

'Tinsel Troubles'

The snow was slowly fluttering down to the ground and Sam stared through the window at it in wonder. It was amazing to be able to see the snow fall without feeling the bitterness of the cold. He would be able to stretch his wings out and not have them cramped up all season.

Turning away from the window, Sam looked at his two friends who were at the bottom of a pine tree that Willa had brought indoors. Aster was tied up in a long, thick, shiny fluffy string while Alex was attempting to untangle her but given the younger teen was also attempting to reach a box full of shiny objects, it wasn't going anywhere.

"Why are you trying to decorate a pine tree?" the young gargoyle questioned. The two girls looked over at him, previously engrossed with their predicament. 

"We're helping Willa decorate for Christmas? We'll trying to anyway, if Aster would let me get her out of this tinsel" Alex commented before glancing over at the younger teen.

Aster rolled her eyes in annoyance. "It's going to take forever to untangle me from this tinsel so we might as well start decorating the tree."

"We need the tinsel to decorate so if you could just let me get it off" Alex barked back.

As the two girls began to argue again, Sam couldn't help but sigh. But something Alex had said came to the forefront of his mind.

"What is 'Christmas'?"

Aster and Alex ceased their arguing and stared at the young gargoyle with looks of surprise.

"You… you don't know what Christmas is?" Aster questioned, looking much more surprised than Alex.

Sam tilted his head in confusion. "Should I know what it is? I've heard people mention it in passing but I don't know what it is or why people are so excited to celebrate it"

After a moment of silence, Aster managed to get herself out of her tinsel trap and rushed over to Sam with her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Oh we're going to teach you everything wonderful about Christmas. It's amazing. There's snowmen, christmas carols, presents-"

"Let's calm down a little shall we," Alex cut in, stopping Aster's rambles before they got too far, "How about we start at the beginning, ease him into it"

Aster beamed at Alex then beamed at Sam who felt slightly worried. The two girls guided Sam over to the steps leading out the room and sat him down while they sat in front of him.

"So…" Aster began. "Christmas is a tradition started back way long ago but the more modern version started because of this guy called Jesus-"

"Who may or may not have actually existed." Alex added on.

"-was born a few thousand years ago and people celebrated his birth. Eventually that evolved over the years and the more modern version is people celebrating the winter season and giving each other gifts and enjoying each other's company. It's called a lot of things in a lot of places but here we call it Christmas."

"Back in my day, we used to call it Yule or Winter's Blessing"

All three teens jumped in surprise when Willa spoke up, looking over to where the older wizard was perched in her usual chair in the corner, sipping a cup of tea and reading a book.

"It's a lovely holiday but overrated in my opinion. Too much yapping about presents and spoilt kids whining about not getting what they want." Willa continued, taking a sip of her tea. She gave Sam a warm glance and a smile "I'm surprised you never celebrated Winter's blessing. Did you or Nau never have time for it?"

Sam's heart deflated slightly at the mention of his brother's name but he quickly shook it off. "I don't remember ever doing anything. Whenever winter came we just tried our best to get through it. Also other… things got in the way of probably celebrating it. Is it something I should start being interested in?"

Aster put an arm around him and smiled enthusiastically. "Yes. Like I said, Christmas is amazing. Oh something I forgot to mention is Santa, he's a big part of Christmas nowadays. He's the one that delivers presents to families all around the world. And you gotta make sure you've been good otherwise you'll get coal instead."

A scoff escaped Alex as she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Don't tell me you still believe in Santa. Everyone knows he's just a fairy tale to tell little kids"

The younger teen stood up, faking offence. "Not real? Of course he's real. He brings the spirit of Christmas joy and also presents"

"No-one's ever seen him so he doesn't exists" Alex argued.

"But if no-one's ever seen him then that means he could be real" Aster rebutted.

As the two girls began to argue again, Sam and Willa let out sighs of defeat. The older wizard went back to her book while Sam stared out the window at the glistening world outside. It seemed the snow had finally stopped falling and now the courtyard outside was covered in a white wonderland. An idea quickly presented itself to Sam.

"Hey. How about we go outside? I've never gotten to go outside and play in the snow before and maybe you could teach me some 'Christmas tradition' that I should know." he proposed, hoping that would bring the two younger teens out of their squabble. Alex and Aster looked at each other with a slight glare before wide smiles plastered their faces and they descended upon Sam, dragging him outside and into the frosty outdoors. What had he just gotten himself into? You can find the rest of the story here :

[crystiesong]

Timeless Teachings

While the weather outside was beautiful and sunny, Robin and the others decided to spend the day inside. Currently they were holed up in Willa's library. The older wizard's library was ginormous, bigger than the local library downtown which was a whole building. And somehow it all fit in one room on the top floor of a building smaller than the library itself. When previously prompted, Willa had explained something about 'magical crystals', 'space magic' and how you could make rooms 'bigger on the inside'. Overall, Robin felt a bit miffed that he didn't know this room existed before now.

The young wizard let his hand glide as he walked alongside the books, searching for one to pick out. Eventually he landed on something that seemed pretty simple; it was called 'Shifters; The who, the where and the wonder'. Happy with his choice, Robin made his way back to the ground floor of the library where the others had congregated.

A giant pile of books had been gathered in the middle of the room with Aster perched atop it and Alex and Andy sitting at the bottom. The three of them were picking out books, searching through them. Meanwhile, Sam was sitting nearby, glancing up and down at the pile of books. Making his way over to a chair nearby, Robin sat down and began to read. But being the curious being he was, he lowered his book so he could watch the scene in front of him.

"So are we just gonna sit here all day and stare at books?" Sam questioned, his tail swaying back and forth in annoyance.

"Yeah, reading can be fun if you find the right book" Aster piped up while throwing a book to who knows where.

The young gargoyle let out a small huff "I can't read, I don't see how I can enjoy this"

"We can read to you" Aster stated, "Just pick out a book and we'll read the book to you, it can be story time"

"Anything in particular you wanna know about?" Andy inquired.

The young gargoyle's face morphed into a look of thinking for several moments before answering, "Well I don't know if there's any books in here on it but I'm curious about those big boxy things on the wide paths"

"You mean cars?" Alex asked from her place lying against the floor.

Sam nodded "I think that's what they're called. I'm just wondering how they work. I've seen people climb inside them and they move like some sort of creature but they don't seem alive"

Andy began to explain "Cars and similar things are basically modes of transport. They're made by people and you climb inside to control them since they're machines"

"Also those wide paths are called roads, they're for cars and other vehicles. Don't walk on them unless you want to get run over" Alex piped up.

The young gargoyle nodded in curiosity. Seemingly done with the books, Aster slid down to the ground and plopped herself next to Sam. "Here" she stated, pulling out her phone "I can show you what it's like to drive inside a car"

Holding up to where they could both see, the two teens began to watch what Robin could only assume was a video of a car. Sam's mouth hung open like he was in shock. "This.. This is amazing. How are you showing me this?" he exclaimed, examining the phone with amazement and caution.

"Oh this? This is my phone and what I'm showing you is a video from the internet" the youngest teen explained.

Sam tilted his head in curiosity "The inter net?" He gained a nod in reply.

"The internet is a huge thing that connects millions, heck, billions of people from all around the world. You can do so many things with the internet, like watching videos of stuff you wouldn't normally be able to see or do. Or you can just watch cat videos" Aster replied, scratching the back of her neck. She handed Sam her phone and the young gargoyle began pressing against the screen, a giant grin on his face. Robin couldn't help and stifle a laugh. He hoped Sam wouldn't get addicted to the internet; that's the last thing he and Willa needed.

After a few minutes, Aster plucked her phone out of Sam's hands.

"I will say, be careful when searching up things on the internet, there are many bad things you can stumble upon," she warned the young gargoyle.

"What bad things?"

Aster shook her head "You know, violence and sex and that sort of thing"

Confusion rolled over Sam's face "What's sex?"

All heads snapped in his direction, even Robin's.

"You.. You don't know what sex is? How old are you?" Andy questioned, his eyes wide with shock.

"I'm seventeen, does that matter?" the young gargoyle replied.

"Not really but I'm just… surprised you've never heard of it before"

Sam folded his arms "Well then, what is it? It can't be that bad"

No-one wanted to make the first move; well everyone except Aster. She gestured for Sam to lean down so she could kneel and whisper in Sam's ear. The young wizard couldn't hear what was being said but from the horror morphing onto Sam's face. Robin couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

Looks like Sam had a lot more to learn about the modern day.

[bunnelbaby]

With how successful the previous post was, here are even more links to full episodes of children’s shows!

𐐪𐑂 Peep and the Big Wide World

𐐪𐑂 Krypto the Superdog

𐐪𐑂 DC Super Hero Girls

𐐪𐑂 Willa’s Wild Life

𐐪𐑂 3 2 1 Penguins

𐐪𐑂 Bee and Puppycat

𐐪𐑂 Grossology

𐐪𐑂 Kenny the Shark

𐐪𐑂 Maya and Miguel

𐐪𐑂 Rainbow High

𐐪𐑂 Winx Club

𐐪𐑂 Ever After High

𐐪𐑂 Lego Ninjago: Masters of Spinjitzu

𐐪𐑂 The Aquabats! Super Show!

𐐪𐑂 Yo Gabba Gabba!

𐐪𐑂 Pound Puppies (2013)

𐐪𐑂 Dan Vs.

𐐪𐑂 Sam & Max

𐐪𐑂 Garfield and Friends

𐐪𐑂 Inspector Gadget

𐐪𐑂 Harry and His Bucket Full of Dinosaurs

[goodqueenaly]

Do you think willas tyrell will be exactly like how he is spoken about? As this lovely, we’ll-read and respectful man. Or will he have a Tyrion edge to him like how Tyrion is portrayed but his pov shows differently. How do you think his personality and archetype will be? 

I would certainly like to think that Willas Tyrell will be an overall positive character in the story. Every time Willas has come up in the story, he is the subject of admiration, approval, and/or affection: he is the big brother of Margaery’s memory who “used to read to [her] when [she] was a little girl, and draw [her] pictures of the stars”; he is the familial protector of Garlan’s childhood, who dubbed him “Garlan the Gallant” to protect him from crueler, body-shaming monikers; he is the “mild and courtly young man, fond of reading books and looking at the stars” whom Tywin identifies as his preferred new husband for Cersei (and note that Tywin says that “all reports” verify this description of Willas). While it might be easy to dismiss the consistent praise of Willas as merely the product of pro-Tyrell bias, I find it difficult to agree entirely with such an assessment. Oberyn Martell, certainly, had no incentive to praise Willas to Tyrion, even if he, Oberyn, wanted to deflect Tyrion’s barbed observation that the prince of Dorne had “trampled” the heir to Highgarden; likewise, Tywin hardly spared his (private) contempt of Robert Baratheon, for example, even though he actively sought to marry Cersei to Robert in the aftermath of Robert’s Rebellion.  

Indeed, I do not think it at all coincidental that these descriptions remind me most strongly of Samwell Tarly. Just as Randyll Tarly had set out to forcibly mold Sam into (his conception of) the perfect warrior, so Mace Tyrell had forced Willas into a tournament when he, Willas, was “still a green squire” (according to Mace’s WOIAF app entry) and when he “had no business riding in such company” because Mace “wanted another Leo Longthorn”. In turn, just as Randyll’s years of physical and psychological abuse toward Sam caused Sam deep and lasting trauma (so much so that he still fears Randyll’s brutal disapproval toward a career as a maester, despite owing no further obligation to Randyll now that he is a brother of the Night’s Watch), so Mace’s decision to urge Willas into Westerosi (peacetime) martial glory resulted in permanent physical disability inflicted on his son (and, relatedly, the consistent identification of Willas as a “cripple”, a shameful state in the eyes of largely ableist Westeros). However, where Randyll vigorously and horribly attempted to crush Sam’s non-martial interests, Willas seems to have been allowed, maybe even encouraged to pursue the same. Where Randyll treated with contempt Sam’s gentle bonding with his siblings - singing a lullaby to help baby Dickon sleep and sharing a bed in childhood with his sisters - Willas clearly showed himself the caring older brother to Margaery and Garlan; where Sam was chained by the neck for three days in a dungeon for merely suggesting that he become a maester, Willas has seemingly eagerly pursued his interest in books and learning. Importantly, where Randyll refused to show further interest in training Sam as his heir once he had Dickon, Mace has never done the same with Willas: Garlan and (especially) Loras may be the sort of talented young knights celebrated in Westerosi culture, but Mace has nevertheless deputized Willas as his representative in Highgarden (even praising Willas as such when he rejects Cersei’s suggestion that he, Mace, “is needed in the Reach”). Willas, perhaps, offers something of a glimpse into what Sam might have become, had Randyll Tarly not been such a violently hateful misogynist and male chauvinist - that is, an intelligent and capable heir without performing the expected (read: battlefield) roles of Westerosi male aristocrats.  

That similarity in character I think will result in a meeting of the minds, so to speak, in TWOW. When (and not if, I believe) Euron Greyjoy attempts to take over Oldtown as its apocalyptic god-king, I think Sam will make his way out of the city and toward Highgarden (as the political heart of the Reach and the closest major seat of protection, especially to a Reach-raised aristocrat like Sam). This is where good-natured, empathetic Willas Tyrell may work far better for the story than a more cynical or caustic take on the character: where Sam has been throughout his life mocked and derided for his lack of martial interest and his bookishness, Willas is exactly the sort of person to empathize with Sam and be keenly interested in what he has to say (especially given that Willas himself had warned Leyton Hightower of the ironborn’s coming). It is Willas who may appreciate Sam’s diligent study into ancient texts, especially into the supernatural, and so Willas who may be willing to listen to whatever advice Sam can provide, or even help himself with such research (in whatever archives Highgarden may have) in the quest to defeat Euron. (Incidentally, if Alleras-who-is-really-Sarella makes it out of Oldtown with Sam - and I certainly want to think she does - then Willas’ amiable relationship with her late father and demonstrated interest in learning may appeal to not only Oberyn’s proud daughter, but the one who had “wanted to know everything there was to know” on her dad’s field trip to the ruin of Shandystone.) 

So this is all a very longwinded way of saying that yes, I think Willas will be a Pretty Cool Dude when he gets introduced (so far as anyone in Westeros can be, anyway, and certainly anyone in a feudal aristocratic system). I don’t think it makes a lot of sense for GRRM to build him up consistently as such a positive figure and then say “actually just kidding, he’s a big old jerk” (though we’ll leave Jaehaerys I out of this discussion …). Rather, I think it works much better for the story if Sam finds one much like himself, but with the political power he never had - a true ally, kind, empathetic, and willing to listen to what he has to say when few others have. I firmly place Willas on the side of the good (along with Sam and, so I hope, Sarella) in the fight against the evil that is Euron and his attempted apocalyptic takeover.

[electrificata]

muppet casting for succession. again because you people cant stop asking me

bunsen and beaker as tom and greg is almost too obvious, like im almost embarrassed to say that. similar deal with fozzie bear as connor, they have the same humor/pathos ratio, of course you see what im saying. janice is willa. hair. sam the eagle is kendall because they have the same kind of unearned thousand-yard stare. i think piggy as gerri, she's a sort of fun and unexpected choice for an only-sane-woman role. using the same logic, i want to cast kermit as roman. its a risk but kermit's wholesome good-guy persona is really going to play interestingly, maybe a little queasily with roman's libertine habits, and we already know he can handle the neurotic emotional stuff. i like animal for logan, to really make explicit the rage that drives him. logan roy makes no secret of the fact that he's a creature of instinct, that's how he succeeded in business, and i think this is a role that could push animal to find new depth in his already-strong persona and tendencies as a performer. shiv is a hard one! i think this could really be a moment for gonzo, he can handle her signature smugness and he can also telegraph that "oh no my schemes have blown up" moment with ease, adn thats a type of moment shiv is having just constantly. we need someone with a really big presence, like a lot of gravitational pull to play mattson and i think the swedish chef is the one for the job. i am NOT being insensitive to the swedish. rizzo could do frank in his sleep, so i say that we let him, same deal with scooter as karolina and rowlf as karl.

[ariel-seagull-wings]

FICTIONAL CHARACTER ASK: JANICE

Asked by @princesssarisa 

@softlytowardthesun @themousefromfantasyland @moonbeamelf @fragglesesamemuppetz2 @angelixgutz @the-blue-fairie @thealmightyemprex @amalthea9 

Favorite Thing About Them: She is a genuinelly sensitive, sweet, kind and empathetic person who has the ability to easily make friends and a competent performer in the fields of music and acting who greatly values team work rather than competing for attention with her colleagues.

Least Favorite Thing About Them: How the writers of the 2015 ABC sitcom the muppets. portrayed Janice as so over the top ditzy that she acted passive and with no opinions or desires of her own while the male characters Sam the Eagle, Floyd Pepper and Dr Teeth treated her as an object of dispute wich they were entitled to have as a romantic partner.

Three Things I Have In Common With Them:

* I have a tambourine;

* I love colorfull clothes made of light fabric;

* I love rock and roll music;

Three Things I Don’t Have In Common With Them:

* I’m not a member of a band;

* I’m not as chill as she is;

* I don’t have long blonde hair;

Favorite Line:

From the movie The Great Muppet Caper:

“…and I said, ‘Look mother, it’s my life o-kay? And if I want to live on a beach and walk around naked, I–”

From the movie The Muppets Take Manhattan:

"So I told him 'Look, buddy, I don't take my clothes off for anybody, even if it is artistic’”

From the comic Muppet King Arthur, where she played the humourous and witty Lady of the Lake:

“Call me Janice. That was my name before I, like, became one with nature”.

“Rock never hurt anyone. Well, except for scissors. Poor scissors”.

From the comic Muppet Robin Hood, where she plays the healer Willa Scarlet (a genderbent Will Scarlet):

“Oh yeah, like, going back to nature is sooo real, man, fer sure. You’ll like dig it, totally! These trees can teach us lessons, man”.

From the comic Muppet Peter Pan, where she played the role of Wendy Darling:

“Like, I’m detecting some rilly unresolved anger issues, fer sure”...

“A nice fruit salad is very cleansing for the system”.

“It never hurts to try to be, like, totally diplomatic and make friends!”

“I’m ready to grow up, now. Yeah, I even know what I want to do when I grow up! I wanna Rock and Roll!”

“Hey, dad, at least it’s, like, totally american... fer sure!”

From the comic Muppet Snow White, where she played the dwarf Happy:

“You’re like my favorite fairytale character. Next to Wendy from Muppet Peter  Pan”.

brOTP: Rowlf the Dog, Kermit the Frog, Fozzie Bear, Gonzo, Animal, Bean Bunny, Scooter, Skeeter, Miss Piggy, Annie Sue Pig, Spamela Hamderson, Zondra, Darci, Charlie (Solid Foam's Drummer), Dolores (Trumpet Girl), Wanda.

OTP: Skeeter, Zoot, Floyd Pepper.

nOTP: Dr Teeth, Lips, Sam the Eagle.

Random Headcanon: She was born in San Francisco, and in one side of her family she has lebanese heritage, wich is aparent in her lips, eyes and olive skin tone, while on the other side she has german-irish heritage, wich is aparent in her blonde hair.

Unpopular Opinion: Her toddler design with open eyes and already big lips in 1984's Muppet Babies looks pretty unsetling. The illustrations for the Muppet Kids books reached a better natural look for a young Janice, with more subtle lipstick around her lips and her characteristic closed eyes.

Song I Associate With Them:

Black Bird

Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover

With A Little Help from My Friends

Earth Song

It's In Hiss Kiss

Rockin All Around the World

Favorite Picture of Them:

In her early concept sketch drawing, when she was originally idealized as an androgynus male identified character inspired by Mick Jagger

As a preteen alongside Skeeter and Miss Piggy in two illustrations of the Muppet Kids picture book New Girl In Town

Alongside fellow Valley Girl Moon Zappa, actress and daughter of rock musician Frank Zappa

In her beautifull tye-die dress portraying Wendy Darling in the comic Muppet Peter Pan (alongside Scooter as John Darling, Bean Bunny as Michael Darling, Kermit the Frog as Peter Pan and Miss Piggy as Piggytink)

Portrayed in a gala dress by Muppet Peter Pan artist @amymebberson

Another art by @amymebberson portraying her and Skeeter with buttons in support of Miss Piggy

With Floyd Pepper and Elton John

Just chilling out

[seenoversundown]

Amongst The Stars: Chapter Ten

Josh x Quinn (Nonbinary OC) Warnings: The Kiss, Tears, Alcohol Consumption, Purple Nurples, These guys pulling their heads out of their asses (kind of), Josh is kind of hot???, Relationship discussions Word Count: 4.5k Summary: Josh has always loved love,  and he's finally found it. Buuuut, he can't exactly tell anyone. Join him as he navigates the ins and outs of his sweet, secret romance. Author's Note: *Kicks a door down* WE'RE BACK BABY! Sorry for falling off the face of the earth with Josh. This chapter is soooooo important to the overall story, and I needed to do some rewrites to make it perfect. Also, as a consolation for the wait… we have Willa and Sam in this chapter. Enjoy 😘. 

“Maybe I want your love forever. Is that so bad to say? Maybe we’re meant to be together if God had his way. And if you ask why I’ve stayed, and I’ll stay for all I know, It’s ‘cause the stars said so." “The Stars” - Chelsea Cutler

I can’t believe I shoved him. For the last 72 hours, that moment has played in my head on a constant loop, and each replay is worse than the previous. It’s like an out-of-body experience. Whenever I replay the memory, I see Josh’s look of hopeful shock when he pulled back from the kiss as if he couldn’t believe he’d drummed up the courage to do it. I see my hand press into the center of his chest, and then my arm extends, shoving him back from the hug I had originally wrapped him in. The hug where I turned it into a kiss. I see the sheer rage on my face as I ask him, “Is this the reason you wanted to help me? You found out I was single, and you wanted to make a move?”

I see Josh floundering, trying to explain himself as I tell him to leave my house. 

Every time I think about it, my heart breaks a little bit more. The worst part is Josh is still respecting my wishes. I told him not to contact me, and he hasn’t. But I only want to see his name pop up in my notifications. I’ve had a lot of time to think over the last several days, and I’ve concluded that my reaction was borne from confusion. My feelings for Josh are scary. They’re big, and they don’t make sense, but I’ve been deluding myself by denying them. Craig, the world’s most unobservant man, could see them, but I couldn't. I wasn’t able to see it until it was too late, and I’d already ruined my chance before I even knew that I wanted it.  

I’m startled by a knock at my door. 

“Quincyyyyyyy,” Willa whispers from behind the door, “Can I come in?” 

I pull one of my pillows over my face to hide that I’m on the verge of tears before I shout back, “Yeah, it’s unlocked.”

“You’ve been in here for days, babes,” Willa grabs the pillow and tries to pull it away from me, but I hug it tighter. “Tell me what’s wrong.” 

“‘M just a little sad. S’no big deal.”

“I can see that,” She tugs on my arm, trying to get me to sit up, “and it seems like it might be a big deal.”

I finally sit up and look her in the eyes. She gives me a sympathetic smile when she clocks my red-ringed eyes.

“I promise it’s fine,” I shrug, adjusting the pillows behind me as I lean against the headboard. 

“You are three seconds away from crying. It’s not fine,” Willa quickly sits down in the space I just vacated by sitting up, “But you’re allowed to be not fine. You just need to talk to someone, preferably me, about it.”

My lower lip starts to wobble, a telltale sign that tears are coming, and Willa wraps me up in her arms. 

“Wilson, I think I messed up big,” My voice is pathetically tight. 

“Did something happen when you went to get your stuff from Greg?” She’s rubbing gentle circles along my back. 

“Something like that,” I trail off, offering no additional context. 

“I knew I should have taken off,” she starts, “I’ll kill him if I ever see him again. Did Josh at least stand up for you?” 

At the mention of Josh, my tears start falling freely. I nuzzle a little closer against Willa.

“Wait - did Josh do something?” 

I shake my head because how am I supposed to tell my best friend that I am insane and deeply infatuated with a man I’ve known for weeks? How can I tell her I ruined everything because I couldn’t dissect my feelings well enough to understand them? 

“How many men will I have to kill?” Willa whispers more to herself than me, and it causes me to snort out a snotty laugh. 

“Please, no murder charges, Willy. I can’t bail you out on a student teacher’s salary.”

“Oooh, There they are! Cracking jokes and everything,” She chuckles, “If photography doesn’t pan out, I may go into therapy.” 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, there.”

“Hey, seriously. I can tell you’re not ready to talk about whatever happened. But please know that I’m here whenever you are,” She pulls me in for one more bear hug, “And for the love of god, please take a shower, you greasy little gremlin.”

I roll my eyes but can’t stop another laugh from escaping me as I get out of bed and walk over to my dresser, pulling out a fresh pair of joggers and a faded band tee. 

“I’m showering because I want to, not because you told me to, by the way,” I shake my fistful of clothes in Willa’s direction. 

“Mhm, I’m sure!” 

I feel much more like myself after my shower, though I’d never tell Willa that. She’s already left the apartment by the time I’m out of the bathroom, so I begin plotting. I’ve learned a lot about Josh over the time we’ve been talking. He likes chocolate, cheese, and wine. So, I dig through mine and Willa’s pantry, searching for the makings for a picnic. There are a few things that I need to go to the store for, namely wine, cheese, and salami.  So, as I’m walking to the store, I pull out my phone and click into my messages from Josh. 

Me: Hey, can we talk?

His response is immediate as if he’s been waiting to hear from me

Starlight✨: Please Me: Today? Starlight✨: Can we meet in person if you’re comfortable?

My heart melts; he is still putting my comfort above all else.

Me: Sure, where? Starlight✨: The bar? I can send you a pin Me: That works! 

Josh sends me a pin of his location, and I immediately put it in my Maps app. It’s about a 15-minute walk from my apartment, so I let him know that he can expect me within an hour and a half. 

I grab everything needed for my impromptu charcuterie board and quickly head back to my apartment to piece it together. I try to stay pretty grounded while cutting the salami and cheese into thin slices and adding them to Tupperware containers. Just because Josh responded doesn't mean he’s forgiven you. It doesn’t mean you have a chance. This becomes my mantra as I’m finishing up. I’m not trying to make myself feel bad; I’m simply trying to remain realistic. And the truth of the matter is, it would be completely understandable if Josh never forgave me. But it is a good sign that he texted back so quickly. 

I finish slicing and add the containers of meats and cheeses, a pack of crackers, some chocolates, and the bottle of wine to a cooler I’d found sitting on the pantry floor. I sling the cooler over my shoulder and pull my phone out to text Josh, letting him know I’m on my way, and I head out into the world. 

My body is full of nervous energy as I walk over to Caravel Tavern. I consider that I may meet his brother today, which makes me sweat. I’m barely even in his life; I don’t need to meet his family yet. That’s ridiculous. But, thinking of his brother and the bar does help to take my mind off of the fact that the outcome of today’s adventure could make my life better or it could break my heart. So, with that knowledge in mind, I turn down the cobblestone street the bar sits on and wipe my sweaty hands on my pants as I stare at it. I hype myself up again. You can do this, Quinn. He’s just a boy, and I finish my trek up to the front door. 

I don’t see any signs of life; the “Open” light is shut off from the night before, no cars in the front parking lot, no music playing behind the door. The uneasy feeling grows in my chest. Why would Josh tell me to meet him at an empty bar? Surely, he isn’t playing a prank on me… though I wouldn’t blame him if he were. Setting those feelings aside, I decided to try the door, and to my surprise, it opened, and a bell jingled to signal my arrival. 

I step over the threshold and take in my surroundings. The walls are covered in various pieces of art, a refurbished piano sits in one corner, and a vintage jukebox sits against the wall next to a hallway that I assume leads to bathrooms. I lock eyes on a cardboard cut out of Young Bob Seger that seems entirely out of place, and I laugh. This place just screams Josh, I think to myself, remembering the organized chaos of his bedroom that I caught glimpses of over FaceTime. But, after looking around, I can see there are hints of others in here as well—a painting of The Queen Anne’s Revenge hanging on the wall and other pirate-themed items. Vintage jazz posters are thrown in every now and again, and framed ticket stubs from various events that happened over the years. 

God, this place is so cute.

My snooping is interrupted by footsteps coming down the hallway beside the jukebox. 

My heart clenches as I meet Josh’s eyes for the first time since The Incident. 

He raises one arm in a half-hearted wave and flashes me a sheepish grin.

“Well, fancy seeing you here.”

“Sorry to intrude,” I giggle, “but some dude asked me to meet him here?”

Josh cracks a full-fledged grin, and butterflies erupt in my belly.

Maybe this won’t be so bad. 

“Speaking of, do you care if we take this somewhere a little quieter? My brother will be here,” he glances up at the ornate clock behind the bar, “literally any second. Normally, I wouldn’t care, but he’s been on an absolute warpath for days. Something about some ‘crazy,’ his words, woman he met.” 

“No, I fully understand. My roommate is dealing with something similar, and she’s been an absolute terror about it.”

“Wonder if the situations are related,” Josh jokes before leading me to a stairwell at the back of the bar. 

I hear the bell on the door chime, and Josh lets out a dramatic sigh, rubbing his hand over his face. 

“Hang out here while I deal with my brother?” 

I nod, then watch as he walks back the way he came. 

I pull out my phone and mindlessly scroll through apps while I listen to the vague chatter of Josh’s brother. 

I'm so curious. I just have to see how the nice guy I talked to on FaceTime could switch to warpath mode.

“SHE - SHE FREAKIN POKED ME AGAIN, MAN.”

Is he really that pressed about being poked? And I have to suppress a chuckle at the thought of some woman jabbing her fingers at this guy to teach him a lesson.

“And I’m sure you deserved it,” Josh responds thoughtfully. 

“DESERVED IT?! SHE’S INSANE!”

Oh yeah, buddy, you absolutely deserved it, I think, as Josh’s brother continues. 

“I’M STARTING TO BRUISE! LOOK AT THIS!”

“Hey, pull your shirt down,” Josh sighs, “Have some decorum, we’re in public.”

“That’s not very progressive of you, Josh. FREE THE NIPPLE!”

“I’ll free your nipple.”

A high-pitched squeal follows that statement. 

“Now, if you don’t mind, can you stop your incessant whining long enough to watch the bar until Jake gets back?” 

“Do I have a choice?”

“Nope,” Josh pops his P for emphasis. 

I see Josh round the corner with a soft smile on his face. 

“Sorry about that,” he starts, “Want to head up to the roof? We should have some privacy there for at least a little bit.”

I gesture for him to lead the way and can’t stop myself from asking, 

“I’ll free your nipple. How exactly does one do that?”

“It’s quite simple,” he says as he boots open the rooftop door, “Pinch and twist.”

We step out onto the roof, and I’m in awe at how beautiful it is up here. There’s a small sitting area with a loveseat that overlooks the street below. There are multiple strings of lights hung above our heads. Various potted plants are artfully scattered across the area. There’s even a small bistro table in one corner. 

As I’m taking in the area, Josh leads me to the loveseat and gestures for me to hand him my cooler, setting it on the ground beside him, before asking me to sit. 

“Quinn,” he runs one hand through his hair, “I have to be honest. I didn’t think I’d ever hear from you again. And the thought of that damn near broke my heart. I’m not asking for anything from you. I want-“

“Josh…” I try to cut him off, but he barrels on through

“I just want you to listen to me. I’m so sorry for acting out of line. You see, the thing with me is-“ 

“Josh.” I try again, more forcefully. 

“The thing is, when I’m in something, I am all in. And I know it’s weird, and it’s fast, but I am all in where you’re concerned. You can tell me never to talk to you again, and I’ll listen. But I had to tell you. This,” he gestures between us, “is real for me. And I-“ 

I get up from the couch and stand directly in front of him. 

“Josh, please stop talking,” I finally get out, as I grab the front of his plain white t-shirt and pull him closer. 

He slowly nods, his eyes flicking back and forth between the grip I have on his shirt and my lips. 

“I came here to do this,” I whisper before I close the distance between us and press my lips against his. 

It only lasts for a moment before I pull back. Josh makes a sound of protest before trying to pull me back in. 

I have to focus. I can’t get lost in this yet. 

“I have to say my piece, Josh,” I say pointedly, “this is real for me too. It’s been real for longer than I wanted to admit. My ex saw it, and it’s part of what led to our break up. He was able to piece it together before I was.” 

Josh sucks in a deep breath, staring deep into my eyes, searching for any hint of dishonesty. 

Content in whatever he found, he lets his breath go and nods for me to continue. 

“I reacted… poorly,” I wince, “when you kissed me because you scared me. This scares me. It’s absolutely terrifying that I feel things for you that I never felt for my ex—“ I pause to collect my thoughts, “I moved here with Craig, you know. I thought I cared enough about him to move across the United States with him… but what I felt for him isn’t even a drop in the bucket of the feelings you awoke in me. You have ingrained yourself within my soul in a matter of weeks. And that is terrifying.” 

He opens his mouth to respond, but I wave him off and continue my spiel. 

“This sounds fucking crazy, but after that first night we FaceTimed, I changed your name in my phone to Starlight. Because talking to you, getting to know you, made me realize I’d been living in a cloud-covered night. You dispelled those clouds and let a little starlight back into my life. And, I guess this is all to say that I hope you can forgive me. Because the last three days have been miserable, and I don’t want to lose you again.” 

Instead of responding, Josh pulls me into a crushing hug and holds me for what feels like an eternity, nuzzling his face against my neck. He eventually pulls back, gently cupping my face in both hands. I lean further into his grasp, closing my eyes and humming a contented sigh as he uses his thumbs to caress my skin for a moment before he begins peppering my face with tiny kisses, starting with my cheeks before moving to my nose, forehead, and even my eyelids. 

“I’ve come to care for you a great deal,” he presses a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth, “and I’m glad you feel the same.” 

He finally reconnects our lips, and my heart melts.

I wrap my arms around his neck and weave my fingers through the fluffy hair at the nape of his neck. I give his hair a tentative tug, and he rewards me with a soft gasp.

I’ll file that little bit of information away for future use… 

I use his gasp as an excuse to deepen the kiss, gently running my tongue along his lower lip, waiting for him to grant me access. And he does. Our tongues tangle together, and I get lost in the feel of Josh’s hands sliding down my sides and coming to rest at my hips. He grips my hips and forcefully pulls our centers closer, grinding his hardness into me, and I let out a little groan. 

I crack one eye open, searching for the loveseat behind us, and slowly begin walking Josh backward until his knees hit the soft fabric, and he sits down, bringing me down on top of him. As I readjust to straddle his lap, his hands find their way back to my hips. 

He gives one of my hips a little pinch, and I pull back, breathing heavily.

“Quinn,” he chuckles, “We have to stop.”

I let my lower lip come out in a pout, and he leans up and nips at it before continuing. 

“I would love nothing more than to keep going,” he shifts his hips to grind his hard length against me once more as if to emphasize just how much he does not want to stop, “But I think that with how fast our feelings are moving, we should take this side of our relationship little bit slower.”

I consider his words for a moment and know he’s, without a doubt, correct.

I grab the sides of his face and gently kiss the tip of his nose, “No, you’re absolutely right.” 

I attempt to dislodge myself from his lap, but he holds me still for one more moment. 

I look down at him, cocking one eyebrow in question, and watch as a wicked grin overtakes his face. 

“Plus, you know,” he presses his lips against my ear and whispers, “The first time I have you, it’ll be all to myself. No one else will be around to hear the little sounds I’m going to coax from your sweet mouth.”

“You can’t say things like that to me,” I nuzzle into his neck and sigh. 

He simply hums in response and lifts me off of his lap. 

Still catching my breath, I watch as he rubs his hands together and then gently pats his thighs. 

“I don’t know about you, my dear, but I’ve worked up a bit of an appetite,” he flashes me a cheeky smile. 

His ability to flip in and out of various personas will always amaze me. 

“I did bring a little picnic,” I tuck a stray bit of hair behind my ear, then glance down at my fingernails, “I was hopeful that this would go well and we’d get to share it.” 

He stands and not so subtly adjusts his pants before grabbing the cooler I brought and shooting a questioning glance my way. I nod and follow him to the little bistro table in the corner of the roof.  “You do know the way to a man’s heart,” Josh lets out a long sigh, patting his belly. 

“I think anyone can be won with a little bit of cheese and a good wine, regardless of gender,” I say through a fit of giggles, feeling a little loose from the now-empty bottle we’ve shared.

“Too true, Bug,” he snaps as if he’s figured out the answer to a riddle that only he was in on, “what a universally human experience.” 

“Bug?” I ask, stuck on the pet name. 

“Oh yes, that’s what I’ve been calling you in my head.”

I gesture for him to continue. 

“See, it started because I thought about how you’ve already wormed your way into my heart and mind. But I didn’t really assume a prospective partner would enjoy being called a worm. So… Bug.” 

“That is weirdly sweet,” I let out a small laugh as I leaned over the table to give him a quick peck. 

When I pull back, I see Josh intently staring over my shoulder, brow furrowed in concentration. 

I whip my head around to see a door I’d been too distracted to notice; the curtain covering the glass gently swayed like someone had just been peering out of it. 

“What’s that door go to?”

“That’s my apartment,” he says, brow furrowing deeper, “I’m curious who was just at the window. Because my brother should be working.” 

He shrugs it off and stands from the table, extending one hand to me. 

“Would you care to dance?” 

“There’s no music,” I respond questioningly. 

“Don’t need any. We’ll make our own.” 

I roll my eyes, he’s so cheesy, but accept his hand and allow him to lead me in a vague approximation of a waltz. 

As he twirls me around the rooftop, giggling every time he missteps, I think that I could get used to this. He’s so full of love and light, and he has such infectious positivity that it’s hard for me to believe I’ve gone nearly my whole life without being drawn into his orbit. 

I let out a laugh as he dips me, almost dropping me, and I think about how it just makes sense that we’ve found each other. And how it finally feels like all the pieces I never knew were missing are finally clicking into place. 

You know you can’t be with him publicly yet, a voice in the back of my mind says. I hate that I know the voice is right. I want to show him off. I want to bring him to Willa — to subject him to her judgment because I know he would pass every test with flying colors, and I know that Willa would love him the second he opened his mouth to introduce himself. But I can’t do that yet. 

“Josh,” I cut him off mid-dip. 

“Mmm, one second, I’m concentrating very hard on not dropping you,” he grins down at me before pulling me back up into his arms, “okay, proceed.” 

“We need to talk about what we are, what our expectations are,” I stare deep into his eyes, willing him to understand that this isn’t a bad thing, just a necessary evil. 

His smile drops for one single second before he understands. 

“Of course, Quinn. Communication is essential.”

And I’m so glad he feels that way. I’m not used to that type of thing in relationships. 

“But, before that,” he ponders, looking toward the setting sun, “would you like a blanket? It might get chilly if we’re out here much longer.” 

I nod and return to the loveseat, waiting for him to return. I run through the conversation in my head, thinking of how to word my request. I want Josh to know that being secretive is purely necessary. I can’t leave him feeling like this is what I want because it isn’t. I don't want to hide him away; he deserves to be in the sun. 

I’m pulled out of my thoughts by him plopping down next to me, a giant quilt under one arm and a new bottle of wine under the other. He unfurls the quilt and gently tucks both of us under it before pouring us each a fresh glass of wine.  He hands me the glass, sets the bottle on the ground beside us, and turns to face me, “Okay, whatcha got?” 

I suck in a deep breath and decide just to spit it out. 

“I want to be with you,” I start, seeing a smile light up Josh’s features, “But I think we need to keep this a little bit quiet for the time being.”

He casts his eyes toward his glass and thinks briefly before responding. 

“I can see why that may be necessary,” he says as he leans forward and grabs one of my hands, entwining our fingers, “The timing of this could be perceived as suspicious.” 

I use my thumb to trace light patterns against his palm, losing myself in the feel of his soft skin as I think of how to word my following statement. 

“Mmm, just a little suspicious. I don’t want to hide you because we know the timeline of our relationship. But others won’t necessarily be so quick to trust us.”

“You do have a point, Bug,” he replies quietly, turning his eyes to his wine. 

“So, would you be okay with being discreet for just a little while? Just long enough that I can introduce you to people without accusations hanging over our heads.” 

“I think,” He cuts his eyes back to mine, and I see a twinkle of mischief dancing in them, “sneaking around could be fun. I’d quite like to keep you just to myself for a while.” 

I sighed in relief as Josh leaned forward for a quick peck. 

“Thanks, partner,” I tip my imaginary cowboy hat, and Josh bursts out laughing, his tongue slightly poking out through his teeth. 

“Though, I must warn you,” he pulls a little note out of his pocket and hands it to me, “I do believe we were being spied on earlier.”

I open it up and see 

“Bit more wine?  (Love you, Bub)”

Scrawled in messy handwriting, I immediately knew that Josh’s brother must have taken a break and been at the door before our dance. 

“Don’t worry, Bug. I trust him with my life. Our secret will be safe.”

And for some reason, I know that Josh is right. 

ATS Masterpost | The Caravel Tavern Series | Masterlist

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[babyjakes]

Can you pretty please share three random facts about your OC’s? 😘

okay okay here are some for georgia and willa 🫶 thanks for this ask i always love to gush about my babies 🥺🥺

georgia) 1. she eventually likes to go by gigi or georgie!! (i think georgie is soooooo cute i’m sorry lol) 2. she loves books just as much as her daddy and eventually as they get closer, he clears out a spot on his big bookshelf wall in his room for all her little books 🥺 goodnight moon and all her favorites of course!! 3. after seeing the nutcracker on tv she takes quite an interest in ballet and ransom of course signs her up for private lessons! he turns into quite the dance mom hehe 😌🫶

willa) 1. once she comes out of her shell willa becomes quite the little prankster! she, thor, and peter love getting into some silly, harmless trouble. 2. she has a special bond with sam, he quickly becomes one of her favorite “uncles”; her favorite thing to do is go over to his place for the day when he babysits and they bake the craziest, coolest desserts! 3. she has the biggest heart and never hesitates to use her healing powers on anyone she sees in pain, regardless of the pain she’ll be inflicting on herself by helping them. one time she finds a little injured bird while on a walk with steve and instantly picks him up and heals him, this is how they learn her capabilities extend to healing animals. when she finds out about animal shelters where often abused and injured animals are brought in she asks her daddy if she can go and “help them all feel better” 🥺

[spacecapart]

I've been really into some of my own OCs lately, so here's some Willas and a Sam! I've been using them as subjects while experimenting with some more complex marker rendering, and it's really rather fun to have some more proper drawings of these guys.

Willa, I've talked about a few times before - she's a character who originated as a mashup of two of my favourite soldier characters (Generals Ironwood and Armstrong, from RWBY and FMA respectively), and has since grown into very much her own person who I'm very fond of. She's the classic exhausted leader type who exists to be a side character in someone else's story but, as a middle-aged butch aroace woman in a society that doesn't value any of those traits very highly, she's sick fed up of being side-lined and Not Going To Take It Anymore. I love her, she's exhausted and cranky and stuck leading the fight in a war for survival that she's pretty sure can't be won by someone like her, but she's going to burn herself to the ground trying anyway.

The two drawings I did of her were mainly to figure out her face properly, and I ended up with one dramatic pose and one that's supposed to have the vibe of an official portrait. I always have far too much fun drawing wrinkles on faces, and I've recently discovered how fun it is to include details like freckles and red patches on skin with coloured pencil. I also experimented with inking some of the lines in colours other than black, and it's a subtle effect but I rather like it.

The fellow with the ginger hair is Sam, otherwise known as Dr Hargrave, and he's a supporting character in Willa's story as the chief medical officer at the wall fort she commands in the frozen north of their country (which is very loosely science-fantasy!Scotland), and also the closest thing she has to a best friend. If you've followed me for a while, he might look a bit familiar, and that's because Sam actually originated as Sammarion Harnendil, my half-elf life cleric DnD character, who I've drawn a bunch of times before. This version of Sam is slightly different (he's fully human, for one, although he still has big ears), but on a personality level he's exactly the same, which makes him cheerful, friendly, dad-joke-making and deeply devoted to being a doctor and helping people. Translating Sam's DnD stuff over into a different setting was actually what helped me pin down the nature of the magitech in this setting, and that magitech is the reason that Sam looks like he does despite being practically the same age as Willa. He's got some complicated accidental immortality going on, it's fun.

That drawing of him came about because of a screencap that I rather liked of one of the characters he's based on (Dr Harry Cunningham from Silent Witness), and I had a lot of fun drawing the folds and creases in his jumper. Sam's also the reason I've ended up so fond of adding pencil details to faces, ever since I decided he ought to have freckles when I was first designing him. I'm really pleased with how he turned out, especially since that's the first full colour drawing I've done of this version of the guy, and my first time drawing his face from that angle.

[usuallydeepcoffee]

Mr. Rogers and Succession? 👀👀

I mean, you have to admit that the juxtaposition of Steve, the humble son of an immigrant, a guy who owned one pair of (too-big) nice shoes, and the Roys, whose entire shoe rack is probably worth more than the GDP of a small country, would be hilarious.

There are two, scenarios I humbly offer:

Steve in the Roys' world:

(non-powered AU), where Steve is the young, hot partner of a very rich New York billionaire genius (Howard or Tony, take your pick). He's into arts and mostly involved in charity work, so the Roys figure he's just another Willa, but then he turns out to be a pretty good strategist.

Lol, I imagine the Roys would be embarrassing themselves trying to court the Starks, like they did with the Pierces.

(also I just love imagining Steve and Willa gagging anyone who comes near them with some quip about them being gold diggers. Two queens discussing how to maximize their joint slay and all)

2. The Roys in the mcu:

I mean. Imagine the narrative ATN would pull out their asses once it is confirmed that Captain America is actually WWII Steve Rogers. About Steve being a true patriot, standing for the Good Conservative American Values™. The way they'd be trying to get an exclusive interview post-Chitauri attack.

Again they'd probably try to court him because even though he doesn't have money (not like they do), he still has status and influence just by being an American symbol.

(that and they'd probably need his permission to make content about Captain America. Maybe even a ride named after him in their parks)

Lol. Logan would try to imply that they have soooo much in common, both immigrants, both hard workers. Steve has a good sixth sense tho, so he probably takes one look at him and turns his heel.

The cringe from Kendall would make me want to curl up and die. "Yeah man, I could uh, hook you up with some uh, modern pieces. Rothko, Mondrian. I have a couple in my pad in Brooklyn, I could uh, give you one. For free of course. Consider it uh, a thank you for your service"

Roman, oh boy. Can't even think about all the harassment innuendos he would throw Steve's way. Comments about him having all of David's Michelangelo's proportions (and consequently wondering about his dick).

Shiv is probably the one who almost fools Steve into believing she's the most normal but then says something in a terribly classist way and down the DNI list she goes as well.

Con becomes a WWII history buff for the occasion and talks about idk, Goebbels' pubes or something equally disgusting he won at an auction online.

Steve calls Nat and begs her to come and get him with the excuse of an Avenger-related emergency.

And when that inevitably fails, the Roys start a smear campaign against Steve: Captain America getting chummy with ex-Russian spy Natasha Romanoff. Workplace affair or treason?

They probably pop off a couple of bottles when Steve becomes a fugitive.

And then once Sam shows up with the shield and the suit. Oh my god. That might be what actually kills Logan Roy in that verse.

[huggybearsunshine]

The Things We Left Behind Part 22

[Part 22] Takes place during the second half of 8x20 Pac-Man Fever.

He was quiet through dinner and Charlie suggested stopping by the rooms again before going to the bar. She had claimed to have forgotten something but really just wanted to give Cas a chance to talk to Dean.

“I know what you’re doing,” Dean entered after Cas.

“What am I doing?” Cas turned with an amused glint to his eye.

“You’re checking on me but trying to be all casual about it, and I’m letting you know I’m fine,” Dean held his hands out as if to show him as much, “I guess I’m just… feeling guilty for taking time off -and I know you’re gonna tell me that I shouldn’t, but shouldn’t I?”

“Why don’t we have Sam check on the body, see if there’s a case there, and in the meantime, we can go to the bar,” Cas wrapped his arms around the hunter’s neck, bowing slightly to capture his eyes, “That way, it’s being looked into and we can get Charlie distracted enough to stay out of it.”

Dean let out a huff of a laugh and looked down before his eyes returned.

“Yeah, that… that would be great…” his hands rested on the Angel’s hips as he nodded gratefully.

“I’ll call Sam and we can head out,” he placed a chaste kiss to Dean’s lips before pulling away to fish out his phone.

Sam was happy to have something to do and began right away, freeing the rest up to head out in Baby with a little less guilt hanging over them than before.

“This is it up here on the right,” Charlie pointed in between Dean and Cas from the backseat.

Dean drove to the end of the road then into the parking lot, and the group stepped out once the car was parked.

Dean’s eyes found Cas’ over the Impala’s roof and they held there for a moment.

“I wonder if we could afford to get you anywhere close to tipsy,” the hunter grinned, starting toward the front of the car and watching as Cas followed.

“We have a pretty big budget,” Charlie flashed a card at them.

“That settles it,” Dean lit up, wrapping an arm around Cas’ waist, and starting the group toward the entrance.

They found a table and claimed it quickly, Dean’s eyes scanning the room, an unfortunate habit that came with his line of work. He noted the exits and kept his back to the nearest wall, yet another habit.

“So what’re we drinking?” Charlie broke the silence, eyeing the room for an entirely different reason.

“I enjoyed tequila quite a bit,” Cas spoke up offhandedly.

“Shit, we’re having that kind of night, okay!” Charlie laughed as a server stopped by.

“Hey what can I get you guys?” she asked with a charming smile.

“Tequila please,” Charlie smiled back.

“For the whole table or just you, cutie?” the server, whose name tag read ‘Willa’ asked with a smirk.

“Whole table, one for you too if they’ll let you,” Charlie flirted back as Dean and Cas just watched the exchange in amusement.

“I get off in an hour,” Willa bit her lip at the edge, trying to hold in the smile splitting her face, “Think the offer will still be good?”

“Absolutely,” Charlie nodded.

“Then, let me get you those shots,” Willa winked before walking back toward the bar.

Dean laughed as he watched her grab a co-worker and point toward Charlie with a huge smile on her face.

“That has to be a record,” he shook his head fondly.

“I don’t think it would’ve taken you guys much longer considering how many eyes are staring a hole through both of you right now,” she countered, leaning in conspiratorially.

Dean glanced around before letting a smirk crawl up his face.

“Still got it,” he grinned, pulling Cas’ chair a little closer.

“Here you go,” the server returned, placing the shots around the table.

“Thank you,” Charlie can’t help her eyes from following the woman.

“Sorry to run you, but could we get two more each?” Dean asked with an apologetic smile.

“Sure,” her eyes widened in surprise, “Just no puking in the bar.”

“You have my word,” he put on a fake seriousness that pulled a laugh from the woman before she disappeared.

Dean grabbed all of the shots and placed them in front of Cas.

“All you, babe,” he winked and Cas downed them like they were water.

Willa returned moments later and Dean put Cas’ two as well as his extra one in front of the Seraph.

“Cheers,” he let his free hand rest on the back of Cas’ barstool as he clinked their glasses together and then with Charlie’s as well.

Once that one was gone, Charlie slid her second across the table.

Dean raised a brow and she shrugged, “Need to stay somewhat sober for the next hour.”

“Oh yeah, right,” Dean grinned and downed the extra shot, “For Willa!”

“We’ll see,” Charlie’s eyes searched her out and found the server looking back.

They spent most of the next hour drinking and goofing off and at one point, Charlie and Cas were dancing around the table as Dean just watched with an absolutely smitten look on his face.

“I gotta piss,” the hunter hopped up, “See if she’ll get him another shot, will ya?”

He crowded up to Cas as he stood and kissed him before passing.

“On it,” she spun around excitedly to cross toward Willa.

Dean walked into the bathroom and up to the urinal, pleasantly surprised to find himself alone in the room, but as soon as he opened his jeans the door swung open. Alone no more.

The other man left a respectable amount of space between them, and the hunter thought he’d luck out and leave without having to make small talk.

He zipped up and heard the other man do the same as he crossed to the sink to wash his hands.

“That your boyfriend?” the man asked from behind him, “At the table with you…”

“Uh, yeah,” Dean grabbed a few paper towels and dried his hands before turning.

“You guys are cute,” he grinned a crooked sort of smile, and Dean felt himself relax a bit despite himself.

“Thanks,” he tossed the towel into the trash as the other man stepped forward toward the sink and the water turned on again.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” he continued as Dean was about to leave, “Just passing through?”

“Yeah, just a small, sort of vacation, I guess… time off.”

He smiled again as he dried his hands and turned.

“Fun,” he passed him and opened the door, “Nice talking to you.”

“Yeah,” Dean’s brows furrowed as the door closed behind the man, “Right.”

Then he heard it. Muffled through the door, but it was very clearly Zeppelin’s Whole Lotta Love on the jukebox, and he just knew.

He stuck his head out first, body tumbling after as he saw what was clearly the back of Cas still standing at said jukebox.

He crossed with purpose, closing in probably a little too closely but it was a dark bar and those shots were making him bold.

“That for me?” he spoke into the Angel’s ear.

“You were taking too long,” he turned his head just a fraction toward Dean as his brow arched upward.

Dean let out a bark of a laugh, “Where’s Charlie?”

“Also in the bathroom,” he sighed, “You do that a lot.”

“What got you in a mood?” he turned him to face him, hands gripping his hips.

“Men keep talking to me,” he shook his head, “One was rather forward.”

“Damn, I wasn’t gone that long!” Dean looked around as if he’d know the guy if he saw him, “I’m taking you with me next time.”

“Dean, I don’t think I like it here that much,” Cas looked disappointed to admit it.

“Not a bar hopper?” Dean grinned.

“I haven’t tried hopping, but I don’t imagine it will help,” Cas’ brows dropped.

Dean softened, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Cas’ arms tightened.

“If things look like they’re going well for the girls, we’ll head back to the hotel room early,” Dean wiggled his eyebrows.

“That sounds like a vast improvement,” Cas leaned forward to brush his lips against Dean’s cheek as he said it.

“Yeah, it does,” he breathed out.

Cas smirked at him as he passed to head toward the table at Charlie’s return.

“When’s your waitress done?” Dean asked a little too eagerly as they took their seats around the table.

“Right now actually,” a voice spoke from over his shoulder.

And the last thing Dean remembered was turning toward her and feeling his phone buzzing in his pocket before he was waking up on his back.

“Cas?“ he groaned, rolling onto his side to find himself face to face with the Angel in question, only he was sleeping and the room wasn’t their room.

This room was bright and had windows- a house. They were in a normal, rather comfortable looking house.

“…Cas?” he asked in a near panic and the familiar blue eyes shot open.

“What is it, my love?”

“Where are we?” Dean looked around, pulling himself into a seated position, “What happened?”

“We’re home, nothing’s happened,” Cas sat up and wrapped an arm around Dean’s shoulders, “I think you’ve just had a nightmare.”

And just as Dean was opening his mouth to argue, a sound broke through. A cry from another room. It was a baby’s cry.

“I’ll get him, just try to breath, okay?” Cas stood to leave.

“Get who?” Dean’s brows knit together.

“Our son,” Cas looked at him in humored question, “I think you might still be half asleep.”

Dean’s curiosity got the better of him and he rose to follow, but as he rounded the corner he came crashing into Cas.

“What’s wrong?” Dean looked over his shoulder, “Is it the baby? Is something wrong?”

“No, Dean,” Cas reached out to touch his chest, “It’s me.”

“Dean?” a second Cas voice called from the room down the hall.

“We have a baby?” Cas asked with the softest look in his eyes, and Dean’s ears reddened as he nodded back, “I’m sorry we have to leave.”

His hand moved from the hunter’s chest and two of his fingers tapped Dean’s forehead lightly.

Then Dean awoke again. This time in the alley with Charlie holding her knees to her chest and crying a few feet away.

“Charlie?” Dean looked concerned.

“Can we go home?” she avoided eye contact, “I want to go home.”

He looked toward Cas who offered a hand to help him up and the look on his face said not to press further, so he didn’t.

“Yeah,” he was pulled to his feet, “I’m over gaycationing.”

He crossed to offer her his own hand, and she pulled herself up gracefully with his help, touching a hand to his shoulder as she stumbled passed him.

The ride back was silent with the exception of Charlie’s sniffles and when they got home, Dean led Cas straight to their bedroom.

“Djinn, huh?” he rolled down his sleeves and began undoing the buttons, keeping his back to the Angel, “The server, I’m guessing?”

“And the man you apparently spoke to in the bathroom,” Cas sighed, “They were working together… Got to you, and I had to get you out after I dealt with them.”

“Charlie too?” he asked with a nod and Cas looked down in guilt.

“Yeah, they caught me off guard,” he admitted, “I had about a bottle or two in me… it didn’t do much, but it was enough to dull my senses.”

“Hey, wasn’t your fault,” he turned, stroking the other man’s hair at the back of his head before starting to undo his shirt buttons instead, “She okay?”

“I think Charlie might need a friend over the next few days…” Cas gripped his hips, “I saw what she was seeing and it’s something I think she will need to work through… something from her past.”

The Angel shifted slightly before his eyes turned up again, but Dean’s focus stayed on ridding him of his shirt.

“Can we talk about yours?” he asked softly as the fabric slid off of him.

“I don’t know what it means…” Dean looked up with a vulnerable look in his eye, “You were human… ‘least I think you were.”

“Is that something you wish for?” Cas undid the last two of Dean’s own buttons and pushed the shirt off of his shoulders.

“I don’t know…” Dean answered honestly.

“And the child?” Cas began on Dean’s belt.

“This isn’t the life for kids,” Dean’s response was automatic, practiced almost.

“I don’t think we were in the life in that reality…” Cas ventured, pulling the belt free.

“No, I don’t think we were either,” Dean mumbled, rubbing his hands over his face as his pants were loosened open and fell to the floor.

Dean stepped out of the jeans and kicked them away.

“What if this is making me soft… weak…” Dean breathed out the thoughts racing through his mind, “What if it gets them killed?”

“‘This’ being us…” Cas concluded.

“Yeah,” Dean turned to him to see a look of heartbreak already flooding the Angel’s eyes.

“I can’t apologize for our softness, Dean,” Cas shook his head, “It’s what I cherish most in the world.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Dean wrapped him into his arms, “I don’t know what I’m saying, I just… I think I need sleep.”

“Of course,” Cas tried to reign in the fear coursing through him.

“I just need sleep.”

———————

@spuffy-destiel @destieliscanon5nov @hotsocke

[kingslayerstew]

do u have any headcanons about loras??

was literally just thinking abt one of them anon!! most of my headcanons are actually for my aus but here r some off the top of my head for canon loras!

- out of all of mace and alerie's kids, he's the best at math/sums. other than that he's not academic at all

- he has trouble remembering names and faces

- this one's kinda canon but he really likes visual art and music and is pretty good at drawing (modern au loras is a casual anime enjoyer 😌)

- his relationship with willas is probably the most strained?? they love each other but ever since loras was a kid they've had arguments since loras' impulsivity and willas' mildness lead to a lot of frustration w each other

- this one's also kinda canon knowing his moral compass but he really doesnt see the big deal with jaime being the kingslayer he's just like. that targ guy was old and an asshole anyways who cares

- some friends and how he met them: robar royce (best friend!) through tourneys, balon swann also through tourneys tho they met before (renly's lord's progress) without realizing. he was friends w sam when they were toddlers but probably wouldnt recognise him

- he wanted to be a dragonslayer as a kid

- one day he walks in the white sword tower like yo guys check out this game margaery lent me it's called cyvasse. he stares at the board for 5 seconds and decides to go sparring instead

[andrewmoocow]

Little Homeworld Life chapter 12: Samhain Night (originally posted on October 31, 2022)

AN: Boys and girls of every age, wouldn't you like to see something strange? Come with us and you will see, this our town of Samhain Night. Wait, that can't be right! Well, that's the point! Since according to the Crewniverse, holidays as we know them like Halloween and Christmas don't exist in Steven Universe, I might as well produce my own versions of them that are basically the same. Anyways, let's gather 'round, pull up a chair, share some candy and start exchanging some spooky parody stories in the vein of the earliest Treehouse of Horror specials from The Simpsons. Now please be warned that some of these can get pretty dark, so viewer discretion is advised. Okay? Okay. Now then, let the Samhain Night horror begin!

Synopsis: The Gems share spooky stories and candy on Samhain Night.

Cast:

Kimberly Brooks as Jasper

Lauren Ash as White Topaz

Estelle as Garnet

Michaela Dietz as Amethyst

Deedee Magno-Hall as Pearl, Yellow Pearl, Blue Pearl, Volleyball

Shelby Rabara as Peridot, Squaridot

Jennifer Paz as Lapis, Laz, Zuli

Uzo Aduba as Bismuth

Noël Wells as Black Rutile

Della Saba as Aquamarine

Charlyne Yi as Eyeball, Navy

Christine Pedi as Holly Blue Agate

Casey Lee Williams as Cat's Eye

Amy Sedaris as Teal Zircon

Aparna Nancherla as Nephrite

Gal Gadot as Desert Glass

Maddie Ziegler as Serpentine

Courtenary Taylor as Beryl

Willa Holland as Albite

Hayley Kiyoko as Morganite

Jinkx Monsoon as Emerald

Kari Wahlgren as Pyrope

Melissa Fahn as Demantoid

Reagan Gomez-Preston as Jenny, Kiki

Brian Posehn as Sour Cream

Lamar Abrams as Buck Dewey

Susan Egan as Rose Quartz

Jackie Buscarino as Vidalia

Featuring Sarah Jessica Parker as Dumortierite

Cavetown as Diaspore

Bruce Campbell as Lord Ashton

Sam Raimi as Henry the Crimson

With Jonathan Majors as Father Black

And Alex Brightman as Zapupu/Onion

--

"OMG, Jasper, I love your costume!" White Topaz squealed as she gawked at Jasper's purple bodysuit and white cape with shoulder pads, topped off with a matching turban that had a dark purple dome at the top. "I think it really fits you!"

"Thanks, Peridot helped me make it." Jasper replied as she looked at White Topaz's red bodysuit with crab-like claws and a large scorpion tail at the back. "How did you get the scorpion tail, honey?"

"Had to get a little help putting this together." White Topaz answered. "Look, I can even make it move!" She pulled on a string to make it pivot up and down.

Tonight was Samhain Night, the spookiest time of the year when people and Gems alike dress up in costumes and travel around to collect candy. The citizens of Little Homeworld were no different in getting into the Samhain spirit as they threw a big party to celebrate the occasion.

"So then I said, "OBJECTION!", and the guy just responded by taking a sip of coffee before giving his rebuttal!" Teal Zircon, who had her hair slicked back and a blue suit with a golden pin on her chest, said to Desert Glass, who was dressed as a chainsaw-wielding cheerleader with a plastic head hanging from her waist.

"How's my phone booth coming along?" Serpentine asked Nephrite and Albite. Serpentine was wearing a brown pinstripe suit and carried around a strange torch-like device in her hand. Nephrite was dressed in standard pilot gear with a duck bill over her lips, and Albite had on a straw hat, a red vest, jean shorts, and sandals. The two of them were constructing a navy-blue phone box for Serpentine to complete her costume with.

"Coming along quite nicely, Serpentine." Nephrite answered while putting the finishing touches. "It may not be bigger on the inside like you wanted, but I think we did our best regardless."

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's take a picture!" Albite declared as she pulled out a camera to snap photos of Serpentine posing with the box.

"Check it out, Demantoid; we're matching!" Beryl cheered as she compared his colorful shooting star sweater to Demantoid's pine tree cap and puffy vest. "Isn't that cool?!"

"I fail to see how we match." Demantoid replied bluntly as Pyrope towered beside her in a red biker jacket, black leggings with white boots, orange gloves with a metal bracelet, and her hair in a much shorter style. Just then, the Warp Pad started humming, and the Crystal Gems disembarked with their own costumes.

"Good evening, everyone!" Pearl greeted her students while dressed as an Amazon warrior in red and blue armor. "Is everyone having fun on Samhain Night?"

"I don't get it!" Black Rutile, dressed in a green cape over a metal suit of armor, declared. "What's the point of all the pumpkin carving and candy anyways? And don't give me any garbage excuses about how it brings us all together or something!"

"From what I've heard, this is supposed to be the end of the harvest season." Holly Blue replied while carving a pumpkin in a drill sergeant's uniform. "Hey, anyone seen Cat anywhere?"

"Last I checked, she was on the prowl for something." Aquamarine, who was wearing a strapless white dress and a matching bolero over it while her hair was styled into an off-center ponytail, responded. Just then, Cat's Eye leaped to the ground while dressed in a skin-tight catsuit with a hood with tiny cat ears attached to it.

"Oh, did someone call for me?" Cat's Eye asked while reaching into the pockets of her suit and grabbing some chocolates to eat. "I was just hunting for some candy, no big."

"Hey, speaking of candy, we got tons of it to share with everyone!" Amethyst exclaimed as she dumped out a giant pile of candy from a bag she kept in her gem, tucked away beneath her red and blue spiderweb-patterned suit. "And in addition, who wants to start telling spooky stories?!"

"Ooh, me, me!" various Gems began cheering as they asked to share their own stories for the night.

"Okay, one at a time, everyone." The fortune teller-dressed Garnet laughed warmly. "Now then, who wants to go first?"

"Hey, I got a story I'm sure no one has ever heard before!" Amethyst proclaimed. "Anyone want to know how I first joined the Crystal Gems?"

"We all know that, Amethyst." Bismuth replied, dressed in a flashy red and yellow costume with an X belt and red boots. "Rose found you in a Kindergarten one day and took you in, easy as that."

"You're right, Bismuth, but I'm not sure if we know the whole story." Lapis, wearing a blue top, brown skirt, black leggings, and brown fur-lined boots with her hair pulled back into a ponytail, pointed out as they gathered around the pile of candy.

"Yes, please tell us!" Peridot agreed as she sat down in her ratty tan-colored robes and pointy eyes hanging off her hair.

--

Extraterrestrials

Many years ago, long after the Rebellion had ended and Homeworld abandoned Earth, the Crystal Gems were left to defend Earth's inhabitants with their former brethren now forced off the planet. However, there was still the problem of their fellow rebels being converted into mutated beasts by the Diamonds' last strike upon the Crystal Gems. Since then, they dedicated themselves to containing the corrupted Gems and hoping they could find a way to save their friends from their fate.

One day, Rose Quartz ventured into a Kindergarten in search of any corrupted Gems to subdue. With the Rebellion over, the canyon was deathly quiet, almost like a graveyard or something. "Okay, Rose, just gotta get in, find some corrupted Gems, and get out." She said to herself. "Easy as that, right?"

Unfortunately for Rose, her mission wouldn't be so easy. Something let out a feral snarl that made Rose flinch in surprise before she dashed towards a hole in the canyon's walls to hide in. Just then, a corrupted Gem with a strange skeletal, biomechanical body, a blade-tipped tail, and an elongated head stalked through the Kindergarten in search of someone to make its prey. The Gem was bronze-colored and had a diaspore embedded in its forehead, indicating to Rose who the monster once was.

"Wait, is that Diaspore?" Rose gasped quietly upon recognizing the corrupted Gem outside. "Oh, that poor thing. She must be so scared and confused." Before Rose could go out and confront her former subordinate, she felt something tugging on the bottom of her dress, and she looked down to discover a little purple Gem trying to keep her from leaving. "Oh, hello, little Amethyst. Can I help you?"

"Yeah, I'm trying to save you!" Amethyst whispered. "That thing has been going around snatching up Gems that came out late like me and eating them! And I think I might be next, so don't give me away!"

"Came out late?" Rose asked. "Did you not emerge on time like all the other Amethysts made here?"

"Yeah, I think there might've been a war I missed out on, or something." Amethyst replied. "Ever since I came out, I've just been hanging out here by myself, playing with all the rocks I can find until that thing showed up."

"You poor thing!" Rose cried as she scooped Amethyst up in her fair-skinned arms and hugged her tightly. "You must've been so lonely all this time! Don't you worry, I have some friends who will welcome you when I bring you home."

"You really mean it?" Amethyst asked innocently.

"I most certainly do." Rose giggled as she tapped Amethyst's little nose before flinging the tiny purple Gem on her back. "Come on, let's get out of here before Diaspore finds us."

"Is that what it's called?" Amethyst asked as Rose began checking for the Gem she once knew as Diaspore to leave. "I've just been calling it the alien."

"That's a funny name." Rose chuckled at the nickname as Diaspore slowly crept away, giving the two Gems enough time to leave the hole and begin returning to the Warp Pad. "This is called a Warp Pad, Amethyst. Gems can use it to get anywhere in an instant."

"You mean anywhere, anywhere?" Amethyst asked as she admired the Warp Pad before her. "Even to the further corners of the universe?"

"I'm not entirely sure, but it wouldn't hurt to give it a shot someday." Rose said when she looked up to discover the Gem monster looming over them. "Uh, Amethyst!"

"What, something on my face?" Amethyst asked before she looked up to discover Diaspore as well. "Aw farts, it got us." Diaspore then let out a feral roar as it snatched up Amethyst and prepared to rip out her gem with its claws. Rose wouldn't stand for an innocent Gem having her life end so soon, so she retaliated by tossing her shield at Diaspore, knocking it out, and making it drop Amethyst into her arms.

"This site isn't safe; we need to run!" Rose yelled as she ran off with Amethyst in her arms. "Are you okay?"

"Only mildly traumatized, if that's what you're asking." Amethyst replied casually, even though she was nearly Diaspore's dinner. "Where are we gonna go now?"

"Any place far away from that thing!" Rose yelled in fright as the corrupted Gem formerly known as Diaspore got back up and charged at her and Amethyst. "By the way, I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. I'm Rose Quartz."

"Nice to meet you." Amethyst greeted Rose. "Anyways, keep running!" And run they did. Rose and Amethyst seemed to have covered the entire Kindergarten to try and escape from Diaspore, but unfortunately, the corrupted Gem seemed to follow them no matter what they did. All the while, the two were followed by this mysterious figure with stringy hair and a blue kimono that seemed to do nothing to stop either party.

"That thing is relentless." Rose panted as she and Amethyst found one last safe place to hide from Diaspore. "I don't think we can keep running for long. It seems we have no other choice but to fight it."

"I thought you'd never ask!" Amethyst said while raising her fists, eager to fight Diaspore before Rose put them down.

"No, Amethyst, it's too dangerous for you to go out there." Rose objected in a stern yet motherly fashion. "You already told me how it's hungry for defective Gems, and I'm not ready to let someone die so disgracefully!"

"But I can still help! Just let me out, and I'll give 'em what for!" Amethyst responded desperately, but Rose didn't answer before she marched out to face Diaspore. "Wait!"

"Diaspore, I know you're in there!" Rose called out to her former soldier. "It's me, Rose Quartz! I'm sorry that I couldn't save you, but I didn't have enough time to gather everyone up! If you'd please stand down and let me talk, I'm sure we can make amends."

"Roooose." Diaspore snarled hatefully at Rose. "ROOOOSE!" Filled with anger at being left behind by her fearless leader, Diaspore pounced on her and let out a feral shriek, revealing a pharyngeal jaw inside her mouth to threaten her with.

"Rose, look out!" Amethyst cried from afar as Diaspore prepared to tear Rose's gem from her belly and turn it into its snack. Though Rose ordered Amethyst to stay put out of concern for her safety, Amethyst refused to watch while this beast killed the Gem who had treated her like a daughter. Reaching for her own gem, Amethyst suddenly pulled out a whip and gazed in awe at her weapon before rushing into battle. "Hey!"

"Hm?" Diaspore muttered as she confusedly looked at Amethyst. Rose gasped in alarm as she discovered Amethyst deliberately disobeying her commands to save someone she barely knew.

"Get away from her, you bitch!" Amethyst screamed angrily as she tried to throw her whip at Diaspore's neck and strangle her with it.

"Amethyst, what are you doing?" Rose asked as she took the opportunity to escape from Diaspore's grasp by rolling away from her.

"Saving you, that's what!" Amethyst replied as she wrapped her whip even tighter around Diaspore's neck. "You did the same to me!" With a final shriek, Diaspore poofed in a cloud of smoke from being strangled by Amethyst, leaving only her gem to be collected by Rose. "You're welcome."

"Oh, Amethyst, I can't thank you enough for saving me from her." Rose sighed in relief before sending Diaspore's gem away. "I think Garnet and Pearl would love having you around. You still want me to take you away from here?"

"Sure, I'd like that." Amethyst blushed at the offer before Rose took her tiny, purple hand and walked her back to the Warp Pad. And the rest, as they would say, was history.

--

"And that was the story of how I met Rose!" Amethyst concluded her tale. "I felt like telling this story to show everyone that despite all the messed up and shady stuff she did, Rose still cared for others."

"Hey guys, what are you talking about?" a bronze-colored Gem wearing glasses and dressed in a white lab coat with a light blue undershirt and brown pants asked as she walked over to join everyone gathered around the candy pile, much to everyone's surprise.

"Oh, hey Diaspore, I was just talking about how I first met Rose." Amethyst said. "No hard feelings about being choked out?"

"Water under the bridge!" Diaspore chuckled before she looked around at the Gems staring at her in surprise. "What?"

"Were you always there and we just never noticed you until now?" Laz asked. She was wearing a blue coat with white fur lining, a darker colored shawl, and a matching Cossack hat to top it off, making her contrast Zuli's costume of a soft purple tank top with a blue swirl on her chest, a khaki skirt and hiking boots, and purple legwarmers over the boots.

"Why did you choose now to show up?" Zuli added just as quizzically.

"Well, I found the story to be quite adorable." Pyrope stated.

"Am I the only one not impressed with that story?" Black Rutile complained with a lollipop in her mouth. "It just sounds like you ripped off a movie or something. And what about that girl with the long hair?"

"Yeah, what's up with that?" Emerald added, just as confused. She wore a blue bodysuit with yellow and white body armor over her torso.

"Strange, I don't think I remember that part." Amethyst pondered as she felt a sudden chill up her spine, followed by the figure from her story looming behind her. When Amethyst turned around, however, the figure had vanished. "Uh, why don't we have someone else share a story?"

"I'll go!" Pearl exclaimed. "Now, to set the scene, if I had to describe my tale in one word, it would be 'groovy'."

--

Pearl of Darkness

"I'm being serious here; you need these refrigerators!" Jasper yelled at a departing customer of S-Hop as they were leaving. "Ugh, another one lost." She groaned. "Pearl!"

"Yes, Miss Jasper?" S-Hop salesclerk Pearl Williams asked her superior before she was tossed the keys to the store.

"You're locking up tonight, Pearl." Jasper said while putting on a jacket and preparing to leave. "And one more thing, don't go near the books section. I hear it might be haunted. Some stock we got recently might be the cause of that."

"Oh, I'm sure it's all just superstitious nonsense, Jasper." Pearl laughed smugly. "In fact, I'll go check on my way out to prove you wrong!"

"Well, don't come crying to me if you suddenly disappear or become surrounded by monsters." Jasper responded. "Have a good night!"

Pearl Williams lived a simple life as a blue-collar employee of S-Hop devoted to doing her job perfectly. She did everything her bosses told her to the letter and always carried an air of stoic professionalism as well. However, it was this night when she decided to inspect the store's books section that would change everything.

"Hmph, haunted book, I'll show them." Pearl arrogantly scoffed to herself as she marched over to check out the mysterious stock haunting the store. But if she would have to contend with supernatural forces, Pearl armed herself with a twelve-gauge double-barreled shotgun from the weapons department. As she slowly inspected each of the books, Pearl thought she had seen a ghost of some kind with long, stringy hair lurking about. But it suddenly disappeared before she could get any answers about who the spirit was. "Oh, you're just seeing things, Pearl."

Finally, Pearl walked over to the horror section of the books and found exactly what was causing these rumors. Looking through each of the horror novels, she discovered one of them that stood out as one she recognized a little too much.

"No, the Necronomicon?!" she gasped as she began getting flashbacks. She remembered how the mysterious book of the dead once hijacked a trip she took with some friends to the mountains as a teenager, and how she had to chop off her hand with a chainsaw to keep herself from getting possessed by the demons the book unleashed. "I thought I destroyed this thing ages ago! How did it wind up here?"

"Why don't you read it and find out?" a strange voice whispered beckoningly to Pearl before the Necronomicon opened by itself and found an incantation for its holder to read.

"Uh, Tar-tra Kanda-Estra, Hudsucker Proxy – Kanda?" Pearl read the incantation confusedly. After a few seconds of dead silence convinced Pearl that this might be a trick, a rift suddenly opened in front of her and began sucking her in. "Okay, I was wrong; this place is haunted!" Pearl cried as she tried to save herself. "Someone save me!" Unfortunately for Pearl, no one could help her escape from wherever, or rather whenever, she would be flung to by the Necronomicon, which was sucked in with her.

--

Moments later, Pearl woke up to a blue sky and a bright sun above her, relieving her that she wasn't sent to the bowels of hell by her curiosity. But what really baffled her were the men on horseback surrounding her. "Um, hello there, sirs. Could you tell me where I am? The last thing I remember was reading from that scary book and landing here."

"Where are you, lass?" one of the men said as a priest confiscated Pearl's weapons. "Welcome to the 14th century! And you might be the hero prophesized to save us from the forces of darkness!"

"Hero? I think you got it all wrong. I'm just an average blue-collar working girl trapped in the past." Pearl said as she was carried away by the horse riders and got an explanation of what she had just heard.

"You see, milady, legend has it that an everyday hero shall fall from the heavens and use the most unorthodox weapons to fight back against the beasts known as the Skeletites and save our land from the evil armies of darkness." The lead horseman explained to Pearl as they got closer to a large castle in the distance. "Perhaps in exchange for your services, our lord Ashton shall lend his assistance in bringing you back to your realm."

"Oh, I would find that most divine, sir!" Pearl exclaimed in delight while she was let off the horse and shown to the castle, where a king with shaggy black hair and a missing hand not unlike Pearl's own awaited her. "Hello there, sir, my name is Pearl," Pearl introduced herself with a curtsy. "And I have been brought here from afar to help your kingdom stop the Skeletite threat."

"About time too!" Lord Ashton exclaimed in relief. "We were in the middle of a war with Henry the Crimson when these creatures suddenly appeared and killed almost everyone! Coincidentally, they appeared around the same time you might've shown up."

"Speaking of which, I was brought here by a book called the Necronomicon, and I think it came with me, but now I can't seem to find it." Pearl explained, causing the king to contemplate her statement for a bit.

"Well, if you need to find this Necronomicon, I suggest you go look for the graveyard in the haunted forest." Lord Ashton revealed. "Once you find the book, speak the phrase Klaatu Barada Nikto to open a way back to your time. Got it? Good." He snapped his fingers, allowing Pearl to regain her chainsaw and shotgun. "In the meantime, we should be expecting some Skeletites coming to raid our castle by sundown, so best be armed. And also, we already had someone prepare you something to replace your hand with."

A blacksmith entered the scene with a mechanical prosthetic hand for Pearl to equip, and she was pleased to have two working hands again. "Groovy."

For the remainder of Pearl's stay in the 14th century, she spent her days fighting off the malicious Skeletites and researching ways to find a way home to the 21st century. Eventually, she would learn where the graveyard where the Necronomicon, and thus her ticket out of Lord Ashton's kingdom, was located. It was in the far reaches of the land where no soul dared to tread, but Pearl took that as a challenge and set out for the graveyard.

As Pearl trudged through the graveyard, she once again felt like something was watching her. Perhaps the same stringy-haired girl that haunted her back in S-Hop. Once again, however, the girl disappeared once Pearl turned around.

"I swear, Pearl, you must be seeing things again." Pearl murmured to herself as she continued her quest. "Guess that's what happens when you're stuck in the past for what feels like ages now." Just then, she heard something rustling in the woods surrounding her. "Who's there? Come on out!" she yelled while raising her sawed-off shotgun. "This is my boomstick, and I know how to use it!"

As if accepting Pearl's challenge, a large Skeletite emerged from the trees and let out a nasty roar. True to their name, the Skeletites were large, skeletal-like creatures resembling the fossils of prehistoric animals, and the one Pearl faced wouldn't look out of place in a pack of woolly mammoths. The Skeletite would soon be joined by its brethren, one resembling a ground sloth and the other looking like a saber-toothed tiger, all of them ready to attack Pearl.

"I don't care what you throw at me, I'm getting that book!" Pearl yelled as she cut off the mammoth Skeletite's tusk with her chainsaw before running for shelter, even with the Skeletites continuing to pursue her. Thankfully, Pearl was able to hide away in an abandoned windmill, where she hoped the monsters would forget about her and move on.

"Oh, as if things can't get any more hectic!" Pearl sighed in exhaustion as she leaned against a mirror in the windmill. However, the mirror wasn't propped up against the wall and fell to the ground before breaking into pieces. Pearl yelped in pain as she fell on her back on the glass shards. "Ouch, ouchie, ow! That stings!" Pearl got up, and the pieces began sliding off her, while she picked up a larger piece to contemplate. "I wonder what will happen next?"

As Pearl walked away, she got her answer in the form of numerous smaller Pearls climbing out of the mirror pieces and gathering around her with devilish giggles. "Hey, big lady, over here!" one of the Mini Pearls yelled with a wicked grin. "Think fast!"

"Who said that?" Pearl asked when she looked down at all the Mini Pearls climbing up her body while continuing their mischievous laughter. "Okay, I think I've officially gone insane!"

"How's this for insane?" a Mini Pearl asked before she and her buddies picked up a large sledgehammer to slam Pearl in the knees with, causing her to fall over while yelling in pain. "TIMBER!"

"AAAAAAH!" Pearl screamed in both pain and terror as she nearly landed headfirst into the fireplace behind her. As the Mini Pearls began laughing at her expense and high-fiving each other, Pearl got back up and cracked her neck before frowning angrily at them. "Okay, you little miscreants, you want a fight? You got one!"

"What are you gonna do, stomp all over us?" one of the Mini Pearls dared with an evil grin, only to quickly eat her words before Pearl tried doing precisely that. As the Mini Pearl tried running for her life, the bigger Pearl started singing.

"London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down!" Pearl tauntingly sang while pursuing the Mini Pearl. However, the Mini Pearl thought quickly on her feet and, just as she was about to get crushed by Pearl's boot, grabbed a nearby nail to replace herself with. "London Bridge is falling d-OW!"

"My fair lady, ha!" four Mini Pearls finished the nursery rhyme in a mocking tone. Pearl began wincing in pain as she tried to slowly remove the nail without hurting herself, but that was easier said than done with her obnoxious smaller duplicates running amok and causing more chaos.

"I think I've just about had enough of you brats." Pearl growled as she got up and tried reaching for her boomstick. Unfortunately for her, it wasn't there. "Oh dear, you didn't!" she cried. "Let me guess, you're right behind me, ready to shoot me with my gun, huh?"

"Actually, no." another Mini Pearl answered, to Pearl's relief. "We're right below you." Pearl then looked down and discovered that the Mini Pearls had taken control of her gun. And it was aimed straight at her privates. "Surprise!"

"Classy." Pearl grimaced in disgust before she dodged the first shot and immediately ran out of the windmill, her escape complicated by the limp gained from removing the nail from her foot. The Mini Pearls stampeded out of the windmill in hot pursuit, plotting to continue their reign of mischief, while Pearl refused to give up on the Necronomicon, even when the Skeletites soon joined the Mini Pearls.

"Come on, just a little closer!" Pearl muttered as she kept fighting off Skeletites and Mini Pearls with her chainsaw, limping ever so closer to the graveyard where the book of the dead was sure to be found. But to her surprise, there was not one, not two, but three Necronomicons awaiting her in the graveyard. "Three of them?! Are you kidding me?!"

As the Skeletites and the Mini Pearls reached the graveyard, the forces of Lord Ashton arrived in the nick of time to hold them off. In addition, the armies of Henry the Crimson were there as well, having sided with Lord Ashton to stop the Skeletite menace.

"We'll handle everything from here; just read the book!" Lord Ashton urged Pearl.

"But which one?!" Henry the Crimson added hurriedly. "There's three of them!"

"I'm trying my best, okay?" Pearl exclaimed while two of the Necronomicons suddenly came to life. One flew around and tried to suck her in, while the other wanted to bite her. However, the third did nothing, implying to Pearl that it was the real book she was looking for. "Bingo!" Once she finally picked up the book, Pearl began to recite the incantation she needed to get back home. "Okay, hope I get this right. Klaatu Barada N-"

Suddenly, Pearl heard a gunshot ring out and swiftly dodged it, interrupting the chant as she saw the Mini Pearls gather before her. "Not so fast, Big Pearl." One of the Mini Pearls snickered. "We still got one last trick up our sleeves!" The Pearls then all gathered together and stood on top of each other to match Pearl's exact height, and then they suddenly merged together to form a replica of her. Only instead, this one was shamelessly evil. "Hey there, Good Pearl, my name's Evil Pearl!"

"So you're basically me, but evil?" Pearl pointed out the obvious.

"Bingo, you little goody two shoes!" Evil Pearl grinned. "Little goody two shoes, little goody two shoes!" Before Evil Pearl could go any longer, the regular Pearl took back her boomstick and fired at her counterpart's face, and snatched the Necronomicon before she began fleeing. "After her!" she commanded the Skeletites fighting Lord Ashton and Henry the Crimson's men.

The monsters gave chase, but Pearl was a far quicker thinker than the beasts realized. With the Necronomicon tucked underneath her arm, Pearl fired her boomstick at the Skeletites and tore them all down with her chainsaw. "Anyone else wants a piece of me?!"

"Just who do you think you are?!" Evil Pearl snarled. "I will swallow your soul!"

"Pearl Williams, housewares." Pearl responded coolly. "Come and get some." With a final charge, the two Pearls swung their chainsaws at each other in their epic clash. While Pearl came out with quite a few scars, eventually, she emerged victorious over her doppelganger and had her buried by the windmill, while the Skeletites were destroyed once and for all. With Evil Pearl slain, now she could finally return home.

"Good work, miss." Lord Ashton thanked Pearl for her heroics. "For your show of heroism in the face of total peril, we hereby award you with this potion made using ingredients in the Necronomicon." The priest who confiscated Pearl's weapons earlier presented Pearl with an elixir to drink. "In just a few sips, you shall fall into a deep slumber and reawaken in your own time!"

"But what about the incantation?" Pearl asked, wondering if her quest was all for nothing as she took the bottle. "Eh, I'll think of it later. Now, bottoms up!" A few chugs of the elixir later, Pearl was out cold for quite possibly the next couple of centuries, though whether she'd wake up home at last is unknown.

--

"The end." Pearl proclaimed. "Hail to the queen, baby!"

"So then, what happened?" Morganite, who tied her hair up into a chonmage and wore a white robe for her costume, asked. "Did she wake up back in her own time or even longer than that?"

"News flash, I don't care." Eyeball rolled her eyes. She was dressed in a lime green hoodie and a blue hard hat with an M on it. "But still, where did that strange girl come from?"

"What strange girl?" Navy, wearing a red pinstripe suit and a balaclava over her head with a cigarette in her mouth, asked curiously.

"I think it might be the same one from Amethyst's story." Squaridot analyzed, unaware that the same ghost was hovering over her. She was wearing a pair of flight goggles, a baggy white shirt, and tight black shorts while carrying around a stuffed corgi.

"Well, if we're done plagiarizing, then I have my own story to tell!" Black Rutile proudly declared, only to be interrupted by Garnet.

"I don't think we should worry too much." Garnet tried calming everyone down as Pearl looked around for the ghost. "Now, let's move on to my story. It's a standard horror set-up, a bunch of rowdy teenagers fighting for their lives against a seemingly unstoppable monster. But there's a twist." She started flickering a flashlight below her face. "THE MONSTER IS ME!"

--

Nightmare on Diamond Pond

It was a warm summer's night at Camp Diamond Pond. A group of rowdy teenagers were camping there for the evening and decided to pass the time by telling each other scary stories by the campfire.

"I got one." Sour Cream said. "It's about this freaky witch lady who was trapped in a mirror as a way of escaping the Salem witch trials. One day, a boy finds the mirror in a pawn shop and accidentally sets the witch free because he thinks she needs a friend. But the witch was using him to escape and seek vengeance on Salem for persecuting her kind, so she stole all the water from the nearby lake and flooded the town!"

"Boo, not scary at all!" Jenny complained. "Anyone else got something scarier?"

"I got one, and it's based on real life." Buck Dewey proclaimed. "This is the story of the Elm Street Smasher. Legend has it that a psycho child killer haunts our dreams and plots to kill us all. It all started when someone didn't leave the door closed at an asylum, and thus the bloodthirsty Garnie Jason was born." He told his frightening tale. "She smashed in the faces of twenty kids in their nightmares before she was found out by the parents, who gave Garnie her just desserts. But even so, her spirit lives on after she struck a deal with some dream demons to become unstoppable. And who knows? Maybe she could be haunting us the moment we close our eyes."

"Wow, that was certainly better than anything I could come up with." Sour Cream declared as Buck finished his story. "Well, I'm turning in for the night. See you guys in the morning."

"Ooh, maybe we should stay up! What if Garnie comes for us?" Kiki jokingly suggested with a laugh, causing the other cool kids to laugh as well. "But in all seriousness, I'm a little worried about her."

"Ah, don't worry, it's just a story." Jenny assured her sister. "It's not like Garnie is real, right?" As the teens went to their tents for the night, a distinct silhouette of a woman with a square head and brass knuckles on her hand lurked about, ready to find someone to kill.

"Yeah, just a story." Garnie Jason smirked evilly as a stringy-haired girl appeared beside her. "Hey, do you mind? I'm going to kill some teenagers here." The girl nodded and abruptly disappeared, leaving Garnet to fade into smoke and enter one of the tents. What happened next would soon turn disastrous.

A few minutes later, Buck and Sour Cream heard Jenny scream from her and Kiki's tent, and they rushed to see what was up. To their horror, Kiki was lying dead on the ground with her face caved in and strange handprints on her neck, almost like someone had strangled her.

"Oh my gosh, Garnie might be real!" Sour Cream exclaimed. "Jenny, did anyone pop into your tent earlier?"

"No, I just heard Kiki choking to death!" Jenny replied. "We gotta call someone; call 911!"

"On it!" Buck said and tried to call for help on his phone. Unfortunately, nobody seemed to pick up. "Seems like we have a bad signal here. Or maybe…."

"Ah ah ah, you didn't say the magic word." Garnie Jason's voice taunted Buck as he realized what he was in for. "The number you have dialed cannot be reached. Please hang up and try again."

"She's onto us; we gotta run!" Buck remarked in terror as he tried to run for his life towards the camp's docks, but Garnie was in pursuit of him via rowboat. When she finally caught up with Buck, Garnie had an oar at the ready.

"Permission to come aboard?" Garnie smirked before she bludgeoned Buck to death with just one swing, sending him flying into the lake and leaving him to drown. "Hm, need to think of better puns."

Jenny and Sour Cream rushed down to the docks, where they found Garnie having already killed Buck, and thus they were the only ones left standing against this psychotic serial killer.

"Friends of yours?" Garnie asked the two surviving teens as she hopped out of the boat. "Apologies, they were trespassing on one of my favorite places to kill people. No hard feelings, right?"

"Oh, all the hard feelings, alright!" Sour Cream yelled defiantly and tried to fight Garnie with a fishing rod, while Jenny protested him not to be so reckless. "This one is for my friends!"

"I guess fishing season must be in." Garnie said coldly as she grabbed the fishing line with one hand and sent it flying back to Sour Cream, tying it around his neck and leaving him to hang on a lamppost, and then she turned to face Jenny. "Final girl, huh? How lucky you must be." She then began to slowly march towards Jenny, who immediately began making a run for it. What happened next was left unknown, but they both had vanished from the camp by the following day.

--

"The end." Garnet menacingly concluded, to the horror of the other Gems. "So, what did we all think?"

"Okay, I'll admit, that was pretty scary." Black Rutile confessed. "The way she ruthlessly murdered all those kids, ooh, it sends tingles down my spine! And what about that freaky ghost in there too?"

"I don't remember a ghost!" Garnet exclaimed as the ghost became clearer and frightened the Gems. However, there seemed to be something on her solar plexus that indicated there was more to her than meets the eye. "I can't believe it; the ghost was real!"

"I shoulda known there was something fishy about her appearing in all our stories!" Pearl added while drawing her sword. "Come and face us!" However, the ghost didn't seem to move, nor did it even acknowledge them as the sword Pearl threw phased right through her. "Hm, that's odd."

"What even is she?" Yellow Pearl muttered nervously while Blue Pearl and Volleyball hid behind her. Yellow Pearl was wearing a pink dress with a big red hairbow, while Blue was wearing a blue dress, and Volleyball was dressed in green.

"Maybe it's friendly." Blue Pearl tried reaching out to the girl, but the girl grabbed her wrist tightly, giving Blue Pearl a scare before Volleyball saved her.

"Is that all it's doing?" Volleyball wondered.

"It's just standing there! Menacingly!" Amethyst yelled. "What do we do?!"

"Well, if it's not going to do anything, then allow me to present my tale." Black Rutile proclaimed. "It is a totally original story that does not steal from any already existing movie. And I call it-"

--

The Black-xorcist

On a stormy night in Beach City, a tall, dark-skinned priest stood outside a house beneath a lamppost. He had been called in by a worried mother and traveled all the way from Dover to investigate her cry for help. After slowly walking towards the front door and starting to knock, the mother answered by opening the door. "Hello there, my name is Father Black. May I come in?

"Oh, thank you for coming on such short notice!" Vidalia sighed in relief. "It's about my little boy, Onion. He's been acting strangely lately since I bought that statue from the thrift shop."

"Now, hang on a second!" Amethyst cried out, interrupting the story and making Vidalia & Father Black look up at the sky. "You're choosing Onion? Wouldn't it make more sense if it were Steven since you hate him so much?"

"I may hate Steven, but Onion absolutely terrifies me!" Black Rutile answered. "I'm not even sure if he's human or not! Now let me finish." The story then resumed as usual.

"Children, am I right?" Father Black dryly remarked as Vidalia led him inside her house and up the stairs. "And you said it was the fault of a statue?"

"I'm not sure yet," Vidalia answered. "But if you want to know, just see for yourself." She opened the door to Onion's room. To her and the priest's surprise, he wasn't there. However, Father Black was completely undeterred as he stepped into the room. "Good luck, father."

"Hello, Onion?" Father Black called out for the strange boy. "My name is Father Black. Your mother summoned me here because she is greatly concerned for you."

"My mother?" a voice rang out across the room as Onion levitated into view, his mouth full of grimy fangs, a long, green tongue slithering out of his mouth, and bloodshot red eyes staring straight into his soul. "Well, yo mama really enjoyed my company, if you catch my drift!"

"You leave my dear mother out of this." Black stoically replied. "Now then, could you please tell me your name and how you came into possession of this little boy's body?"

"Oh, playin' the name game now, are we?" Onion cackled. "But since I'm such a nice guy, you can call me Zapupu. You may remember me for causing the following natural disasters, like the San Francisco earthquakes, the Yellow River Flood, Hurricane Katrina, or whatever gender reveal parties have nearly caused a societal collapse!"

"You fiend." Father Black cursed Zapupu. "How long have you been causing such death and destruction?"

"What do you mean death and destruction?!" Zapupu exclaimed angrily. "I was making dinner; it's what I've been doing since the dawn of time! Heck, you should've seen what I did to Pompeii!"

"Your chaos shall not go on for any longer!" Father Black declared as he picked up a statue of Zapupu that was resting next to a painting of the ghost girl. "Was this how you were able to possess him?!"

"Of course, after some schmuck bought that at the thrift shop!" Zapupu chuckled, making Vidalia hide away in shame. "So go ahead Blacky-Boy, hit me with your best shot!"

"With pleasure." Father Black smirked as he threw the statue at Onion, sending him crashing into the wall and breaking the statue.

"No, wait, I didn't mean it like that!" Zapupu cried out in surrender. "I'm a psychotic demon and proud of it, but this is a child I'm possessing here! You're a man of the cloth!" To save himself, Zapupu generated a pair of glasses to put on. "You wouldn't hit a guy with glasses, would you?" Father Black took the glasses off Onion's face and smacked him with them. "You hit a guy with glasses. Well played, big guy."

"May the power of Christ compel you!" Father Black boomed as he prepared to lay the hurt on Zapupu.

--

"And Father Black started beating the boy within an inch of his life to expel the demon!" Black Rutile ended her story in a surprisingly violent fashion, horrifying all her listeners and even the ghost girl as she went into excruciating detail on how badly Father Black beat Onion.

"Geez, man, calm down!" White Topaz yelled. "We get that you find Onion creepy, but do you seriously want to kill him?!"

"I don't know." Black Rutile answered. "I'm not even sure if he can be killed, to be honest."

"Well, that sure was gruesome." Pearl declared awkwardly. "Well, anyone else has a story to tell?"

"I got one." The ghost girl declared in a high-pitched voice. "My name is Dumortierite, though some of you may just know me as the Lighthouse Monster."

"Wait, I think Steven told us about you." Amethyst realized. "I kinda thought you were another Topaz. Plus, where were you this whole time?"

"That's the thing; I was an archivist." Dumortierite revealed as she presented her gem on her solar plexus. "I'm supposed to be in charge of gathering data, which is how I was able to enter all your wonderful stories." She then demonstrated her telekinetic and flight abilities by grabbing herself some candy to eat from the pile. "I was trapped in that lighthouse after being corrupted, where I was embittered by all the hatred and toxicity humans showed each other, even close friends."

"Yeah, that's bound to happen." Black Rutile proclaimed. "Now, go away so I won't have to listen to your generic sob story, Dummy."

"I said it was my turn!" Dumortierite yelled angrily, causing her eyes to turn red with fury and blood-red veins to appear on her body, but she immediately calmed down and continued. "When I was freed of my curse, I would be given a different curse—the curse of rejection. I felt alone and scared in this new world, so I hid myself away and tried going from town to town for a place to belong. But unfortunately, they all turned me away."

"Oh dear, poor thing." Pearl said as she gave Dumortierite a warm hug. "I can assure you; humans aren't all like that. They're just afraid of what they don't understand."

"Yeah, they're scared of what they can't control and all that!" Black Rutile commented sarcastically as she walked away. "Go ahead, Dummy, move in all you like, just don't get into any of my business."

"You're welcome to attend Dumortierite. Just keep an eye out on Black Rutile there." Garnet assured Dumortierite. "She's planning something big, and while we know she plans on accessing other dimensions, we have no idea what she'll do afterward."

Meanwhile, Black Rutile had returned home and pulled off her iron mask to reach for Rasputina's spellbook in her gem. "Now, let's see where I can find this Seer." She muttered as she continued to check its pages.

--

Later that night, everyone was standing around in a field presenting their costumes to each other, and Teal saw fit to comment on one of them. "Hey, Serpy, I really like your Inspector Spacetime get-up!" Teal complimented Serpentine's costume. "Which one are you supposed to be again? I always keep getting them mixed up."

"I'm the one who hates pears, FYI." Serpentine answered before turning to Desert Glass. "A cheerleader? How quaint."

"Not just any cheerleader, a zombie-killed sexy cheerleader!" Desert Glass proudly proclaimed. "What gave it away, the head?"

"What kind of cheerleader carries around a decapitated head?" Yellow Pearl asked. "Luckily, my costume is far less violent."

"And what are you supposed to be, Garnet?" Peridot asked about the fusion's costume. "Some kind of flying carpet racer?"

"Far from it." Garnet answered. "I'm actually a fortune teller with the power to generate fire, but I didn't have enough time to get a flame chicken."

"Well, I can see you all have wonderful costumes, everyone." Pearl declared. "Now then, anyone up for more candy?"

"Did you need to ask?" Amethyst replied with a smile.

--

This is probably the most ambitious chapter of any story I've written yet. Having to write four stories in one chapter certainly took longer than I thought, but I hope it was all worth it! Happy Halloween everyone, and stay tuned next week for the Christmas special to close out the season!