#Arthur the absolute madman that he is

[thedragonsfate]

ok but helioc followers being doomed inherently if they have any tragic or untimely death because they're taught that "Helio wouldn't let that happen" and similar principles

Being taught to live for the afterlife but also to expect worldly challenges like murder/tragedy/etc are something you are like. Immune to somehow? In living?

You are devoted to Helio and in so you will have a peaceful death, one that is fair and just and I'm befitting circumstances. Or at least that if you are subject to a tragic death, Helio will be there to hold you with open arms and some kind of REASON. Something to bring a wholeness to the upset of not getting what you've been taught to expect.

This idea that you are helioc and so your death is Helioc. Helio must have a plan for you, and your death will not be untimely, and if it seems so it serves a greater purpose that is theologically rewarding. Because of course it does.

You are helioc and so you don't just die for no reason. Death is a moment of respite and a crossing into everlasting life and it will ALWAYS be for a greater reason if not simply your salvation.

Helioc followers (and followers of sol) learning that sense of disdain for their non or "wrongly" faithful peers due to that sense of superiority. That sense of superiority extending past your feelings about others and into your expectations for how you will pass into the afterlife.

That superiority creating a fellowship that EXPECTS Helio to save them in the living world - because you've been good, it's not your time yet, Helio wouldn't let that happen to you, his faithful servant. You are faithful and he would not punish you with a an unjustified death.

You are ENTITLED to a befitting death into afterlife because you are Good where the world is Bad and you do everything you can to remind those who do not follow your god, to relentlessly try to convert them, to fall into the trap you fell in so long ago shaped by fear, by a victim complex, by isolation from other groups that makes you hostile toward them, even if behind a smile.

A world that is Fundamentally and Observably polytheistic, where the Helioc unfortunate enough to befall a tragic, untimely, or unexplainable death are -doomed- to the faith upon meeting their Deity. Because unlike those of the faith who have passed peacefully or for their own martyrdom or whatever else, you show up to the corny gates and something is Wrong. Your god comes to you with love but he did not protect you in the way you're certain he was supposed to. In the way you were taught you DESERVED.

This is not a reward for your devotion and it cannot be justified. Your god is a Fratboy of Corn who is unable to answer your questions because to answer your questions truthfully would be to unravel the principles fundamental to your religion. To acknowledge that "bad things happen [to good people] because Things Happen" is to admit that being Helioc does not Save You from the wrath of the cosmos. That being Helioc does not make you uniquely and automatically good, and therefore safe from the happenstance of the world. That the good people you watched suffer did not Earn it in some way, they were just dealt that hand. The hard times befallen upon your worldly siblings is not something that happens because they weren't "devout enough."

to admit Helio is not inherently more holy than any other deity, is the kind of truth that can destroy this type of faith, and Helio needs to stay alive. Gods are not of the material, but they're dependent on their followers to survive. To bend to what their followers preach and create as their religion in this SPECIFIC way means that you can no longer be truthful about these matters when (if) they ask. In the right hands it could destroy him. He needs the unwavering faith the church has built to stay as strong as he has been, because that it how he's maintained the power he's had until now. He no longer knows another way. And that's excluding whatever influence Sol/the church of Sol has on him and his domain.

Helio not only cannot answer truthfully, but is DESTINED to get himself out of dodge quick upon being asked. Because as above so below, and the church is not known for its ability or willingness to take responsibility.

And if youre disillusioned enough, or angry enough, or sharp enough to put that together from an interaction in any way similar to Kristen's in freshman year, then the betrayal of your own God is GOING to take over.

Maybe you're like Kristen and you start asking questions, maybe you're like Buddy and take the rageful hand that offers to ressurect you the way your own God "should have".

But to die in the way they died automatically puts them in a position that if they are to get to heaven and ask questions, or have conflicting feelings strong enough to get you thinking, then they're DOOMED either to be disappointed with Helio or to dig deeper into deluding themselves. This of course will not always trigger a loss of faith, ans plenty of people leave the church in living for a myriad of reasons - we saw this with the summer of endless night. But there's something so interesting in the way the nature of your death could be further reinforcement of your ideals or completely shatter them in one fell swoop, even upon reaching the place of blessed afterlife.

because the Church of Helio seems different from the other religions we've seen in game in that over time the modern faith has been been BUILT on expectation and a sense of deserving more than others. And to die in a manner directly opposed to your own sense of entitlement is all that the latent anger may need to break that follower-deity relationship

Of course Kristen met Helio and was immediately unsure about her direction in life. On the other side of that coin, of course Buddy let his faith go to come back to life to serve a corrupt god of rage. They're children killed young and devout, who's deaths are orchestrated by powers out of their hands, and not in line with the ideals taught by your god.

The difference being how entrenched you are when that happens, and who's there to pull you out.

[rom-e-o]

✨Wedding/Honeymoon Headcanons ✨

Modern!AU Ebenezer/Constance

-Their wedding is grand, but the guest list is small. Friends and family only. Extra security is hired to make sure no paparazzi sneak inside and spoil ANYTHING ABOUT THE DAY.

-This is Constance’s second wedding, and Eb’s first. As a result, she is EXTRA INSISTENT upon Ebenezer being honest about wants and desires. “What would you like for flowers? How about colors? Venue? Music?”

-Connie’s dress had a golden-ish hue to it, and she wears her hair down and loose, because that feels best to her. Ebenezer’s suit has golden accents to the buttons and cuffs to match.

-The official wedding color is gold (shocker) and the flowers are lilies, forsythia and sunflowers (au autre shock).

-Ebenezer asks Harry for help, and goes to him with any nervous questions about the ceremony and the day of. Harry, ever a golden retriever of a man, is over-eager and READY to do anything to make sure it's the best day ever! ("Oh, Uncle, have you taken waltz lessons yet? You have? Good! Have you practiced? Good! What about cake? I know an excellent baker! You'll need low-sugar and gluten-free options too! Oh, and don't forget favors! Here, let's make an excel list. Oh, this is so exciting!")

-Bob is more tepid and introverted, and as such, his guidance is more subdued. ("Don't think about how to need to react to every thing. Just ... react. Naturally. Don't try to plan your moves or act a certain way. Just be you, because that who she wants to marry.")

-Prior to the ceremony, Ebenezer is pacing around like a madman. He's excited, but also SO nervous. "I'm not worried about marrying her - I'm worried about being good enough for her. What if she regrets saying 'yes'? Would she?" He knows he's being irrational, but marrying a woman after all these years ... he feels underserving.

-Theresea, Connie's mother, attends the wedding. In fact, she's right in the front row. There is an empty seat beside her, reserved specifically for Connie's deceased father, Arthur.

-Prudence is a very good flower girl, and will get treats later.

-Ebenezer absolutely cries upon seeing her walk down the aisle. Constance tears up too, so both are crying at the altar. Dorks in love.

-Their first kiss turns into about three to four kisses, because neither wants to part ways immediately.

-Their first dance song? "At Last" by Etta James, followed by "Sarai Qui".

-They begin their honeymoon at The Ritz in London. They then will take a train to the English countryside to enjoy some solitude. Then, they'll fly to New York and conclude their stay at The Plaza.

✨HONEYMOON (PG-16)✨

The second the door to the hotel room shuts, they are ON EACH OTHER.

-Their honeymoon is not the first time they've slept together as a couple, so they already know each other's likes and dislikes.

-It is a multi-session night. Their sex starts frantic and needy, but by the third or fourth round, it's slow and passionate lovemaking all-around.

-They share a bath after their lovemaking (probably at about 3 a.m.).

-Constance asks Ebenezer to join her, and considering her past, he's more than willing to join. He parks her right in his lap, helping with shampoo and body conditioner.

-It IS their first time sharing a bath, so they do have some soapy little slip-ups, but both are keen to laugh about it.

-They absolutely have matching silk pajamas. Dorks in love, I tell you!

-They are unaware, but their first daughter, Starla, is essentially conceived this night.

Thank you all for your support!!!

@quill-pen @crimson-phantom-designs @st0r-fruit @ray-painter @themostanonymousscribbler

[mermaidsirennikita]

spicy book recs?

alright let's see

Sierra Simone writes theee best erotic romance, some of my faves include:

The New Camelot trilogy. Kinky King Arthur--very literally a modern King Arthur retelling in which King Arthur is [drumroll] Maxen Ashley "Ash" Colchester, president, erstwhile war hero, and absolute panty dropper, Lancelot his VP Embry Lance (never forget his middle name is Lance) Moore, my favorite romance character ever, and his first lady is Greer Galloway, the girl who heard a prophecy that was like "please don't kiss anyone" and went "okay I'll kiss everyone". MMF, kinky, angsty, dramatic.

Thornchapel. Quartet about six friends who accidentally awoke a gothic looming horror thing as kids and then continue to awake it as adults with kinky sex rituals. Kinda like The Secret History x Picnic at Hanging Rock x Brideshead Revisited with a dash of occult. Two core romances, one is MMF (childhood friends to enemies to lovers and the girl they both love) and one is FF. TW for incest(?). Very kinky, much group sex and sharing occurs.

Priest. One of her more.... approachable books, about a Catholic priest who falls for a woman who tells him all the shit she's done in confession. Also kinky.

Salt Kiss. Just out, a spinoff from New Camelot that retells Tristan and Isolde but with Tristan as a bodyguard and Mark as his boss who he falls in love with before he meets Isolde, who he promptly also falls in love with. Salt in the Wound is a novella that should be read first, ab out Mark and Isolde. Kinky, queer, intense.

Grace Callaway writes really fun historical romances that lean towards the more erotic. Usually, there's a girl who boldly ventures into danger, and a hero who's like "my god I find her brash impulsiveness compelling, I must eat her out and tell her she's bad".

I really love her Lady Charlotte's Society of Sirens series, which is like, Charlie's Angels but Victorian.

Olivia and the Masked Duke. Age gap D/s romance, bratty heroine paired with a hero who's like "I'm your dad's friend, I can't do this"... but she's obsessed after seeing him spank another woman, so she's pretty determined to make it happen.

Pippa and the Prince of Secrets. Childhood sweethearts reunite after her shitty husband dies. Hero is scarred and runs a band of child spies (I died). They're both really into exhibition and ye olde sex swing.

Fiona and the Enigmatic Earl. Feisty diamond of the season girl ends up in a marriage of convenience with a stern earl. Both of them are basically spies undercover, but neither of them knows lol. She's very bratty with him.

Glory and the Master of Shadows. Heroine gets mentored in badassery by the hero, who's desperately trying to resist her because he's Tainted and she's Fresh and Innocent. At one point he eats her out against the wall while her parents are sleeping with the door open down the hall.

You want a mafia romance? Try Mila Finelli. Her Kings of Italy series kicks off with Mafia Mistress & Mafia Darling, a duet about a girl who is kidnapped to marry this mafioso's son, but the dad like "nah, I want you, be my mistress". My favorite in the series is Mafia Madman, which is about a fucking lunatic blowing up a bar to kidnap the heroine for Revenge. He chains her to his bed and they have an enemies to lovers situation because she keeps telling him he ain't shit and he's like "sadly I am entranced by her". Mafia Target is an M/M assassin/target book, most excellent.

In terms of "contemporary sex club" books, I'd recommend The Salacious Players Club, which is about a group of friends who start a sex club (with two additional installments about the most noteworthy patrons of the club). Each book deals with a different kink--praise kink with an age gap, femdom, voyeurism, "we think I'm a cuck but actually me and my wife and my best friend are just mutually in love with each other", daddy kink, etc.

Joanna Shupe (who is also Mila Finelli) writes pretty hot historicals. I would recommend especially

My Dirty Duke. Victorian novella, age gap, heroine falls for her dad's best friend and he takes sexy old timey pics of her.

Sold to the Duke. Heroine enters an auction for her virginity to save her sister from destitution, gets bought by her dead brother's best friend who's like "I'm not going to take what I bought" and she's like "oh yes you are dude.

Her Uptown Girls trilogy is about three sisters who bop around Gilded Age NYC, getting into trouble with 1) dad's lawyer 2) casino owner attempting to ruin dad because revenge 3) powerful gangster. Very hot and very fun.

Fifth Avenue Rebels is my favorite series by her. It starts off with a house party in Newport and then continues into all the drama after. Recommending reading in order, they're all good, and they lead up to one of my favorites, The Duke Gets Even, about the uptight duke and wild child heiress who've been circling each other for the previous books. Very hot, and they both enjoy rough sex.

S.M. LaViolette (who is Minerva Spencer) writes hot historicals. I just finished her Seducers trilogy, which follows three sex workers/former sex workers from the same brothel as they meet people and fall in love with much drama and high stakes. Hot and romantic as fuck. TW: all of the books feature trauma in the past, but little to none is on the page

Paranormals? Kresley Cole's Immortals After Dark, which is full of vampires, werewolves, witches, and everything else falling in love and having lots of sex across the world. Long running and pretty violent, so check your TWs, especially for the older ones.

Passion by Lisa Valdez is a really wild erotic historical romance with a hero and heroine who start fucking as soon as they meet in the first chapter. Behind a screen the first go. She has a magic vagina that his massive cock can fit into as a miracle basically.

I mean... if you're willing to go, uh, bold as fuck, Tiffany Reisz's Original Sinners is very erotic. Everyone is polyamorous, everyone is bi, it kicks off with a British editor visiting a novelist to work with her, and oops, she's a dominatrix. The central three characters are that dominatrix, Nora, her long time on again/off again lover/dom Soren, who is...a Catholic priest with a sadism fetish... and Kingsley, who owns this kink club Soren and Nora are respectively the #1 and #2 top dogs at. There is a LOT of sadomasochism in this series, a lot of kinky shit, a lot of angst, dubcon and noncon. There's also... some shit I don't think would be written today, like a good amount of underage sex, severely morally questionable relationships, and I don't loooove some of the dynamics written (Kingsley and his long-term partner Juliette make me question much). The writing is beautiful, the characters and dynamics are fascinating, but it's definitely something you should dig into before reading.

But I can't lie, Nora, Soren, and Kingsley have a spellbinding dynamic. It's fucked, but it compels me so. I will add, there were 8 original books (not standalones) and then she revived the series years later. Stop at the first 8 (and their assorted companion novellas and short stories).

[teaspoonnebula]

The Beryl Coronet Part 1 - Notes!

I'm having a lazy Sunday morning so I'm going to luxuriously type out my thoughts while I'm reading today's letter! I'm especially excited because I don't think I've properly read this one.

bow-window looking down the street

I have however read this little nugget of detail because I tried to find any and all descriptions of Baker Street for a game I'm making (The Beekeeper's picnic, you can wishlist it on Steam if you like...)

In a different story it's described as having a bay window. Both bow windows and bay windows project from the exterior wall. Bow windows usually have more panes of glass to make a smooth outward curve.

Both are also fiendishly difficult to convey when you're working with 320x130 pixels.

“Holmes,” said I as I stood one morning in our bow-window looking down the street, “here is a madman coming along. It seems rather sad that his relatives should allow him to come out alone.”

Outdated attitudes towards mental health aside, I think it's sweet that Watson is able to see someone in distress at a distance and immediately find it sad nobody is looking out for him. His doctorly instincts are aroused!

Sherlock Holmes pushed him down into the easy-chair and, sitting beside him, patted his hand and chatted with him in the easy, soothing tones which he knew so well how to employ.

Likewise, Holmes is knows by now how to handle someone in distress. There's a really sweet illustration of this moment by Josef Friedrich

We have done a good deal in this direction during the last few years, and there are many noble families to whom we have advanced large sums upon the security of their pictures, libraries, or plate. “‘It is absolutely essential to me,’ said he, ‘that I should have £50,000 at once.

B-b-b-Blackmail, methinks. Either that or this is some kind of scam on the bank (perhaps they upfront the money for the coronet but never receive it, or receive a fake) But since we're apparently dealing with a famous notable person, I don't think that's going to be it)

‘You have doubtless heard of the Beryl Coronet?’

There has already been a mountain of discussion about coronets in the LfW server - what precisely it is, how the word is pronounced, the etymology...

I'd always thought a coronet was something like this - basically a tiara but a little more gender-neutral!

Turns out it's actually a small crown which has a top to it.

“‘I should be happy to advance it without further parley from my own private purse,’ said I, ‘were it not that the strain would be rather more than it could bear.

I really hope this is just lip service and he wouldn't have really done that. Please Mr Holder, don't lend clients your own money! I feel he's being set up here, either by the narrative or by this Mysterious Notable Man.

I determined, therefore, that for the next few days I would always carry the case backward and forward with me, so that it might never be really out of my reach.

I just want to sit all Sherlock Holmes characters down and give them a long lecture about how the most vulnerable time for any precious or valuable object is when it is in transit. Also the the bureau of your dressing-room is not actually more secure than a safe at London's second largest bank.

Another, Lucy Parr, the second waiting-maid, has only been in my service a few months.

She gets a name, and is therefore Suspicious.

I could not trust him in the handling of large sums of money. When he was young he became a member of an aristocratic club, and there, having charming manners, he was soon the intimate of a number of men with long purses and expensive habits

Libertine son Arthur is also Suspicious.

Twice my boy has asked her to marry him, for he loves her devotedly, but each time she has refused him.

...... they're cousins? Right? I mean they are cousins. Not just cousins, but she's been adopted by his father. Right?!

I thought that first-cousin marriage was a bit of an eyebrow-raiser at this time even though it did happen sometimes.

Where are the jewels which you have stolen?’ “‘Stolen!’ he cried. “‘Yes, thief!’ I roared, shaking him by the shoulder. “‘There are none missing. There cannot be any missing,’ said he.

Ok, I think that was actually a "Stolen?!" and he's as surprised as anyone. The beryls were already gone by the time he got there. I'm sure Lucy's disappearance has something to do with it!

at the sight of the coronet and of Arthur's face, she read the whole story and, with a scream, fell down senseless on the ground.

I feel bad for laughing at this.

I am enjoying this one SO MUCH so far! The missing item genre of Sherlock Holmes story is one of my favorites, and so far we've had a really tense tragic narrative with lots of complexity.

I am a little worried that this story isn't a well known one and so perhaps it's a bit of a flop towards the end - but who knows, perhaps it's appropriately a hidden gem!

[brassandblue]

There is no warning, the shoes are off no doubt due to wet stockings so he is particularly sneaky as a short, white haired one armed man hurls himself at his friend out of nowhere and latches on around his shoulder happily. "Merry Christmas!" No, he will not be breaking that hug for anyone.

Arthur stumbled as a cannonball of friendship clipped--no, collided with--him and left him positively reeling before he finally caught himself just in time to laugh--

"Horatio- !" Arthur yelped, then cackled, latching onto Nelson with a tight embrace.

"Merry Christmas, you absolute madman!"

[ofglories]

[ cú, for arthur ] "So that Lucius guy... You guys used to be a thing or something like that?" The Lancer one day asked at random after a certain unhinged redhead answered the call of Chaldea. "He's rather... intense, isn't he?" Well, as long as Arthur was happy... who was he to judge people's tastes?

"Absolutely not!"

Just the thought of being anything with that madman of a Roman emperor was enough to make Arthur shudder. How he had hoped, prayed that the man would never be summoned. That never again would he have to deal with Lucius Tiberius or his delusions of godhood. The immediately apologetic look on the faces of the Chaldea staff was all that kept Arthur from feeling any anger towards them. Instead all of his anger, his despair, over that man being summoned was directed at the fickle cruelty of the Chaldean summoning system.

Did it have to work on a roulette?

Why could it have not summoned his brother instead? Or anyone else?

Literally anyone else?

"He's a rabid beast who has an obsession with me for reasons I've yet to understand. In fact, I don't want to understand his reasons." The Saber cast a look of mild desperation towards the Lancer, hoping Cú would understand. "One would think being killed by me would have dulled his obsession somewhat..."

[twittercomfrnklin2001-blog]

Savage Intruder

If you’d like to see how many ways SUNSET BOULEVARD (1950) could have gone terribly wrong, look no further than Donald Wolfe’s SAVAGE INTRUDER (1974, aka HOLLYWOOD HORROR HOUSE). It’s actually SUNSET BOULEVARD with serial killers and a sprinkling of KIND LADY (1935, 1951). A madman is killing older women in Hollywood. Retired screen star Miriam Hopkins breaks her leg in a drunken fall, requiring the presence of a live-in nurse. Guess who turns up for the job? Before long Vic Valance (David Garfield, son of John) has seduced the cook (Virginia Wing) and alienated Hopkins’ secretary (Gale Sondergaard) and housekeeper (Florence Lake, sister of Arthur). And then the killing starts…again. The film is equal parts camp, kitsch, schlock and just plain bad. It was the last released film for Hopkins (as well as Joe Besser and Minta Durfee), and the actress who sparkled while working for Ernst Lubitsch and William Wyler is saddled with a wildly inconsistent character. She transitions from wanting to fire Garfield to adoring him with no visible motivation yet manages to play each different version of the character blissfully over the top. Garfield’s character makes even less sense (he’s traumatized from having seen his mother engaged in orgies with really ugly men). Only Lake and Sondergaard emerge with their dignity intact. At 71, with long black hair, Sondergaard also manages to look absolutely fabulous, but would expect anything less from the only woman to steal a film from Sherlock Holmes?

[ladyminaofcamelot]

Arthur: You trust Van Helsing?

Jack: I absolutely trust him

Arthur: He's not some sort of madman, then?

Jack:...

Jack: I absolutely trust him.

[unnecessarywriting]

Tolerate It - Harry Potter (Part 1)

Request: Ohhh do i have a request for you!! Harry x reader one shot or a serie idk based on tolerate it by taylor swift. The drama, tears, fight, angst, but eventually cute and fluffy needy Harry🥰🥰

A/N: Sorry that I had to repost your request like this. Tumblr has been giving me problems. Also, I assumed you meant Harry potter but if you meant styles just let me know and I can write a new one. I hope this is good, and I will try to get part 2 out as soon as possible. Thank you for reading, and please don’t hesitate to request something!

P.S I know this part is really angsty but it will get better in the second part.

Tolerate It

His warmth was something you cherished. Yes, past tense. The last time you felt it was that horrid day. That was the day that everything changed. Sometimes you wonder if you were wrong all along. He held onto you so tight, you thought you might never breathe again. You haven’t felt that in months. The funerals have gone by, and tears were shed for your friends. You wondered if  he felt guilty, or maybe even lost, but whenever he was with anyone else, he seemed fine. Hell, even when he was alone, he seemed perfectly fine. He wasn’t grieving anymore. The pain he felt had dulled, and you were left out in the cold.

He would write to his friends often, and you stood outside of the door. You would watch the quill delicately run across the page as he wrote about everything he was feeling. You didn’t have the same ability. All you had was Harry, and that was all you felt you needed. You were always by his side, and you worshipped the ground he walked on. Not because he was the “Chosen One” but because he was the love of your life. You used to be his. You still believed you were, but he had been distant.

Mornings in your house consisted of you waking up first. You would wait a while to get up so you could watch his face relax into the peace that you haven’t felt in too long. His body no longer wrapped around yours. You would fall asleep cold, and you would wake up with shivers. His comfort was no longer there. The only saving grace was his shirts that you managed to take away from him. He no longer placed them out for you, instead you needed to take them from the laundry. You would eventually get up and cook breakfast for two. Some mornings, he would come out on his own and sit down at the table, observing your movements. Other mornings, you would carefully walk back into your bedroom and wake him, telling him that breakfast is ready for him.

Then, the two of you would go to work, unless it was the weekend. Those days, you would try to organize some activities to do together, but he typically made plans with Ron. At night, you were typically home first, so you would start dinner, trying to have it on the table for his return. If he came home before you were done, he would go into the study to finish some ministry paperwork, or that’s what you told yourself. Your dinners would be quiet. You would sometimes ask him about his day, or his plans for the weekend. His replies were short. There was no need for him to disclose every detail of his day to you, but you would always wait for the return of the question. Once, you talked about your day, but he would just nod his head at your words as he ate. After dinner, he would return to the study, until he was ready to go to bed. Some nights, you would stand at the door watching him work, and you would eventually tell him of your plans to go to bed. Sometimes, he would offer you a glance and a nod, but those were few. For a while, you considered this to be the way that domestic life worked. You two no longer had to deal with the dark evil forces that taunted you in your school days. It wasn’t until one night at the Burrow that you learned about your mistakes.

You two were invited for dinner with the Weasley clan, as a way to just be together in a time of loss. You were excited to get out of the house and be with other people. It wasn’t often that you were with your friends. They were typically with Harry, but he made it painfully clear that you weren’t needed in their interactions. You always wrote if off as time away from you, which you could understand, but it still hurt to not see everyone as often as you used to. It was a part of growing up. That is what you told yourself on a daily basis. You love Harry, and he loved you. 

When you arrived at the Burrow, you offered to help Molly with dinner. It was something that you had grown used to doing since living with Harry. A part of you enjoyed all of the cooking and cleaning, but you also wished there was an ounce of appreciation from the man you shared a bed with. She declined your offer politely, and you were almost nervous to return to the living room with the others. You couldn’t explain why, but something about the welcoming, warm atmosphere in the Burrow made you uncomfortable. When you walked in, you could see that Ginny was in deep conversation with Harry. Hermione and Ron were sitting as close as they could without Hermione using Ron as a chair. You walked over to Harry and sat down. You kept your head slightly down. You weren’t really listening to the conversations around you, but you did hear a few comments from Ginny.

“I can’t believe you had to do that! Harry that’s absolutely ridiculous. When I read that in your letter, I thought you had been drinking and made it all up. You’re a madman.” She seemed to know more about your boyfriend’s endeavors more than you did. His response, however, set off a few alarms in your head.

“C’mon, I would never drink and write a letter to you.” His playful tone made you curl up into yourself. Luckily, Molly announced that dinner was ready. Throughout the meal, you were quiet. You were trying to process the emotions that were bubbling up, but you didn’t even know what to think. All that time in his study was spent talking to another woman. Yes, they were briefly together at some point, but you never considered that he would ever want to leave you. You continued to remain as an observer for the night. Arthur and Molly were perfect. He would compliment her shamelessly throughout the night. He thanked her for dinner and offered to help her clean up, but Molly was stubborn and pushed him away, but not without a kiss. That was what you wanted with Harry. That was what you deserved, but here you are, just being there for him. 

That night, you crawled into bed without him. You let the tears fall down, knowing that you needed to talk to him about your relationship. It pained you greatly, but you knew it had to be done.

The following morning, you made breakfast as per usual, but you didn’t eat with Harry. You left a note with his food saying you had an early appointment. He wouldn’t care, you thought. It was true though. Before you fell asleep the night before, you had made a call to an old friend who was in need of a roommate. When you told her that you think it may be over with Harry, she was very understanding, plus, she could use the money for rent, so she was ready to offer you the place right away. You spent the morning looking at the apartment and the room, which would be yours if things with Harry didn’t go well. She hugged you and wished you luck as you went to your job.

 That night, you returned home and cooked dinner. You made sure everything looked as good as possible. The door opened, and in walked Harry. He looked around and caught sight of you at the kitchen counter nursing a glass of wine. He shed his coat and walked over to the dinner table. You didn’t sit down with him.

“Aren’t you coming to eat,” he questioned. Your hands were shaking.

“Tell me Harry. Have I wasted my time here with you?” His head snapped to you, slightly angry.

“Excuse me?” His accusing tone set something off in you.

“Everyday, I make you meals. I ask you about your day. I wait around for you. I try to get your attention. And every single day I am left on the outside. No gratitude, no conversation. I would be surprised if you even knew what I do for a living. Harry, you write letters to your ex with so much enthusiasm, and you leave me untouched. Do you know what it feels like to love someone so much that you are willing to suffer through this torture? The emotional turmoil? So tell me Harry, do you even love me anymore? Or have I wasted all this time on someone who just tolerates having me around?” 

He was silent for a moment, registering everything you said.

“What does Ginny have to do with any of this? I’m allowed to write letters to my friends. It’s not my fault that you’re jealous. I am here almost everyday. I occasionally go out with friends without you present. You’re just clingy.” You scoffed at his response.

“Merlin Harry! Do you even hear yourself? You can be so dimwitted sometimes. You treat me like I am your servant. I’m not an elf. I am your girlfriend. You told me you loved me, but clearly that was only temporary.”

“Don’t start with this ‘you don’t love me’ bullshit. If I didn’t we wouldn’t be living together. You can be so insufferable sometimes Y/N. I need time away from you, and all you want to do is be there with me. ‘Harry let’s do this. Harry let’s do that. Harry come eat. Harry, how was your day? Who were you with?’ I can’t deal with these questions all the time. Why do you think I spend so much time in my study? I need to be away from you and your neediness.” The tears started to set their path down your cheeks.

“Well, then. I guess that answers all of my questions.” You got up and grabbed your bag.

“Where the hell are you going? We had a fight. Get over it and eat with me.”

“You’re getting what you want. I’m leaving you alone, or rather I’m leaving you. I refuse to just be tolerated by someone who is supposed to love me.” You opened the door and looked back at him. “I’ll get my things another time.” With that, you walked out the door, leaving Harry to his own thoughts.

Part 2

[aonogifreactions]

Hug Headcanons: Revisited

a/n: ive felt like i should rewrite this for a while now. i hated seeing those stuped ~180 words, so.. thats why were here! xD i added yukio to the mix as well, since ive gotten this ask >:) huge thanks to @no-remorse​, who beta-read it for me <33

Tiny edit: I’d love to hear the feedback for this one! <3

Warnings: Spoiler in the last headcanon in Yukio’s part!

★ Characters: Rin, Yukio, Mephisto, Lucifer, Amaimon, Astaroth.

★ Words: 2,1k.

Rin:

no matter where, who’s watching, or what had happened before, he’s gonna give you a big, big hug! he absolutely lives for your hugs, it soothes him emotionally so much and works as immediate relief.

almost always his one hand wraps around your waist, while the other one goes on your head as he nuzzles into your neck; his hugs are always tight, almost as if you were about to get taken away from him - he doesn’t really feel like that inside, but.. he likes feeling that you’re here. present. for him.

after a fight, he immediately runs into your arms and almost makes you both fall on the ground as you nearly lose your balance when his arms wrap around you; feeling your embrace, your warmness.. something in his mind switches right away and he’s calm. he’s still shaking, but it gradually stops as he relaxes in your arms.

at first, he might be a little shy, but when he gets comfortable, he can’t keep his arms away from you. He just.. loves feeling you. hugs make him somewhat vulnerable, because he lets his frustration out, and at the same time - Rin gets an extreme dose of serotonin. He tends to place his forehead on yours just before he loosens his hold on you, and eventually moves on do to his things.

depending on your height, he still loves hugging the same! if you’re short - during hugging, he also places his cheek on your head, leaving a soft kiss on your hair. if you’re tall - he loves!! hugging!! into your chest!! or whatever he reaches!! he’s just snuggling into you like a madman.

he gets butterflies in his stomach when you hug him from behind and almost starts stuttering. (do it when he's cooking or sumn,, but u didn't hear it from me) 

also, please, PLEASE wrap your arms around his neck. he’s gonna MELT.

Yukio:

his hugs are rare, but it’s not like he doesn’t touch you - it’s just Yukio being Yukio; hugs make him vulnerable, similarly to Rin, except that it’s Yukio’s way to “open up” about his problems a little. It’s surely a very small step forward, but it shows that he's trying, yet he doesn’t realize how much it actually helps him.

he prefers to hug somewhere where there are not so many people around, not necessary in private completely, but as long as you’re the only one with him in the room, he’s down for a hug if he feels like it (or you beg him enough lol).

he’s usually silent during hugging, but he really “quietly” lets his frustration out, you might even catch him sighing. at first, he embraces you with only one arm and places his head on your shoulder, but when it hits him - the emotions, that he’s been waiting for years and now he’s finally able to tell someone everything - he’s almost crying, but he intertwines his other hand with yours instead. even though there are no real words shared, his love language involuntarily shows the beauty of his complicated personality.

now, he’s a little “unwilling” to hug you, mostly because of all that emotions crashing on him, but he feels so much better afterwards.. it’s unreal, he feels like you used some kind of magical spell on him.

the worst time to hug him is probably when he’s angry - and while it seems like a totally normal thing, it doesn’t work as comfort for him - it makes him even more upset, so it’s really best to leave him alone for some time. he knows your intentions are good though, so usually, he comes back to you with a calmed mind and apologizes.

I picture his S/O being in this mess in chapter 126, where the twins just beat the shit out of each other, and suddenly Yukio’s s/o comes up to him and stops from shooting Rin - he’d have that mental wall blocking him from hurting you in any way, just when he realizes he points his guns at your face or grabbing his hands and attempting to get Rin out of his target range - both of those things and any similar scenarios would end up with him looking at you with those beautiful, yet unfortunate eyes showing so much pain and sadness, along with that broken expression on his face, hoping to understand him.

Mephisto:

we’re gonna have fun here. hugging with Mephisto is pretty common, he likes touching you physically and doesn’t really care if people see it - he’ll push boundaries as far as he can, but unless it’s someone or something really important, he stops and gets serious. 

^unless it’s Arthur, he could politely knock on the door. Hearing the permission to come in, the first thing he sees is Mephisto hugging you with a hand on your lower back, heading dangerously onto your ass while casually giving him random papers and smirking at him. wow.

if you think the twins’ grip was tight, Mephisto’s gonna literally try to squish you into his body - it’s not hugging if your bodies aren’t touching themselves in EVERY possible way. You could be practically glued to him and he won’t complain - in fact, he’s gonna have that shit-eating grin and tease you by saying “hmm, aren’t you needy, darling? you can’t be away from me even if I work!” (even if.. it was him who called you over...)

he GETS handsy and you can’t do anything about it. and he really does it on purpose, just to tease you and see how much time it takes for you to get either horny or snap at him. nonetheless, he likes to place hands around your waist or just on your hips, then shove you into him, so he’s able to whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

hugs definitely show his rather “softer” side, the silly one - but he also doesn’t hesitate to hug you when he’s serious; these hugs, however, tend to be quicker but more intimate. even if it’s just him standing next to you and placing his hand on your hip while watching the dark sky, stars flickering slightly as you feel a slight, cold breeze hit your face; you look at him, wondering what he’s thinking about, this incredibly sharp mind with hundreds, perhaps thousands of different thoughts. Is he reflecting? Reminiscing? Regretting? or is his mind wandering around some silly thoughts? Yet you’re the one left wondering, not noticing his emerald eyes have focused on yours a while ago. You take your eyes off him, slightly embarrassed, hearing only a faint chuckle and feeling his grip tightening on you as you two once again gaze at the glittering galaxy above you.

Lucifer:

due to his body being not as strong as Mephisto’s - he’s usually down for cuddling instead. however, when some of the elixirs do their job, he’s gonna give you hugs pretty often.

prefers to be in private when he really wants to give you a genuine hug; he doesn’t want to show others he fell for the trap named “love”. he lets himself be a hypocrite about it, for once (ekhem satan and yuri).

Of course, tiny hugs wouldn’t be forgotten while attending stuff anywhere else on Dominus Liminis, but they’re just quick hugs when you walk past him. he isn’t ashamed of you by any means, in fact, he’s proudly walking along with you most of the time, having a hand either on your waist or interlaced with yours.

Lucifer’s hugs are very, very confident and send butterflies to your stomach - he radiates that strong energy to make you feel secure in his arms - the world could be falling, but as long as you’re in his arms, he’ll do anything to protect you from any harm, even if this means losing his precious body.

sometimes he hugs you in his own, unique way - he interlaces both of his hands with yours and places his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and sighing softly. while you might think it’s not really a hug, it’s definitely a very sweet gesture. you can get a kiss on the temple or a few sweet and uplifting words whispered in your ear too, if he feels particularly affectionate that day.

his views on physical contact are... a little bizarre; he’s confused and doesn’t fully understand the purpose of it, yet - he will admit it’s quite satisfying. feeling your lover is definitely something that feeds the feelings he’s had deep within him. he might be a little stiff when you introduce him to this too, no matter how many times he’d seen humans do it - experiencing it for the first time is new to him, but surely it is something he grew to enjoy.

 so what’s that “hugging” thing again? you just wrap your arms around someone and.. that’s it? are you supposed to just stay like this? how long? - that’s pretty much half of his thoughts going through his head when he hugs you.

it takes him quite a long time until he “learns” it just “makes him feel better”. he understands (kinda) the idea of it, but deeper down, he’s still pretty puzzled.

In the early stages of hugging, Amaimon didn't realize how strong his hugs were - if he didn’t break any bone of yours, then it’s a miracle. As soon as he noticed you almost passing out, he stopped and the guilt of possibly causing you harm has kicked in, so he promised you to make it up the best way he can.

Amaimon doesn’t realize it - but as time passes he grew used to hugs! Especially greeting hugs, which at this point he doesn’t realize he gives  - it’s become a habit of his.

not a fan of long hugs - to say it bluntly, he becomes bored if it lasts too long (unless there’s been a fight beforehand, in this case, he understands you want to regain the sense of security that physical body is able to give). he likes quick hugs instead, which he gives more often.

Amaimon’s hugs are pretty simple - he wraps his arms around your waist and that’s.. pretty much it. He might rub your back sometimes, but to be honest - he just likes the simplicity. Funnily enough, when Behemoth notices you hugging, he also wants to participate! Tiny demon bounces your way and while it’s near your leg, he starts clinging to it and nuzzling himself (Amaimon’s kinda >:((((((( when he sees Behemoth snuggling, but it’s his boyo so he forgives him).

However, Amai gets really mad when he sees you hugging someone else than him. Unless it’s a close friend or family member, he’s.. somewhat accepting this, but if it’s someone he doesn’t know - he’ll either try to fight them or take you bridal style in his arms and just go away.

He also gets awfully handsy, which he probably picked up from Mephisto. His one hand might slowly slide down to grope your ass cheeks; when you look at his face questionably, he’s just gonna place the other hand on your ass as his answer.

Astaroth:

his understanding is even worse than Amaimon’s, so he’s initially against it. he doesn’t understand the purpose of it and it's very hard to convince him otherwise, saying something along the lines of “if you need your “physical contact” we can fuck on the counter”.

continuously asking him would only make the situation worse, as he’d get annoyed more each second, eventually making him leave the house for a few days. one situation, however, changed his mind the most - he’s once lashed out at you, leaving you crying. he left nonetheless and waited a few days until he cooled off. feeling bad for his actions and regretting doing it for once, he came back, but instead of confronting you - he left a withering rose with a note.

he’s learned a little bit from that situation - seeing that you accept his quirks, he decided to try out some of your ideas - including hugging. and oh boy, how wrong he was.

he will NOT admit he likes hugs for his life; very “tsundere” approach to it, but you can catch his face being relaxed sometimes.

his favorite hug is.. hugging you from behind! whenever you’re cooking or being busy just in general, he loves surprising you with a hug, encircling his hands around your belly as you flinch slightly, not expecting him. as an apology, he places a gentle kiss on your shoulder.

due to him being nasty, you gotta bear with his dirty-talking he’s “performing” every time he hugs you. he also WILL tease you by groping your chest with no shame, attempt to give you hickies, and after a while - move his hands dangerously near your chest.

[inkribbon796]

It’s Not Rabies, It’s . . . Ch. 3

Summary: Lunky gets to meet some more of the family.

A/N: This was a suggestion-request from the anon Nightfall on AO3. Which resulted in this story and since this one was getting a bit long it inspired a bit for the Visitation Day on Sunday which will be a lot less angsty.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

Chapter 3: Meet the Family

Bim was on stage when, apparently, Dark had contacted Wilford, saying to come to the Manor when they both finished up at the studio.

Which Dark tended not to do unless it was something serious. Usually he ordered Illinois and Yan to jump at his command.

But Wil took him home and they found Dark’s office empty. Which was strange because all his important meetings with them were in there.

There was talking in the living room and Wil quickly poked his head out of the room and let out a delighted gasp.

“Now who is this delightful little configuration of being?” Wilford threw open the door and Bim followed more hesitantly.

Bim stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Dark with a child in his arms. He looked at that kid and he could feel his hackles rising.

“Hello,” Wil leaned in close to the child, bracing his hands on his knees. “Are you lucky number seven?”

The spawnling screeched at Wil.

Wilford chuckled, absolutely delighted. “Is that so?”

The madman looked up at Dark with a huge smile, “Their hiss sounds a bit like your echo, Darky.”

“They’re Kay’s child,” Dark told Wil. “Their name is Lunky.”

“Really?” Wil’s enthusiasm didn’t dampen, he clapped his hands on his knees and stood up to look around. “Where is that boy?”

“Hey dad,” King smiled and waved at Wil from where he was sitting in an armchair.

“Congratulations my boy,” Wil moved to his side to clap his hand on King’s shoulder. “Who’s the lucky partner I’ve never met?”

“No one,” King told him. “I got stabbed by a soul splitter and almost died. It gave me a kid instead.”

“That sounds fake as shit,” Bim told him.

Lunky made a little screech.

Wilford roared with laughter, “Learn quick, don’t you?”

King surged up, “Are you teaching my kid to curse, I have to deal with that later.”

“Kid’ll learn sooner rather than later when Anti shows up,” Bim defended with a huge smile on his face as King stomped over to him.

Before King could shake or punch his younger brother, Dark spoke up, “Let’s not Kay.”

The animal magnet threw his arms up in the air, and glared at Bim, “Next time I get you alone you insufferable brat.”

Bim gave him a sharp toothy smile, “Try it Dolittle.”

“Bim, if you keep antagonizing him, you might not win,” Dark warned.

“So to clear the air, this is my nephew?” Bim asked, walking over to the spawnling who maintained eye contact with Bim and both of them began a low warning growl as Bim approached.

“Bim,” Dark warned, shielding Lunky with his aura. “They’re not competition, leave them alone.”

“That’s not why I’m growling,” Bim growled defensively.

“Then why are you growling?” Wil chuckled, leaning his elbows on the back of the couch and resting his chin on the palm of his hands.

Bim glared at Wil before huffing in frustration at Lunky.

“To answer your earlier question, no Lunky is not your brother. You were, to quote Beauregard, a “creation of pure science” and since I killed the other scientists it’s not happening again anytime soon. Besides there are already six of you, and you are all grown adults. Having another child would serve no purpose.”

“I could get a sister,” Yan called as she ran from upstairs with a binder of colored squares and started holding the colors up next to Lunky’s face. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some quality girl time around here?”

“I don’t control that,” Dark reminded her, neither he nor King moving Lunky away from her.

“Come now Darky, we’d get to have another angel running around the house,” Wil pouted.

“That’s what grandchildren are for,” Dark reminded.

“Yes but we have to give them back,” Wilford frowned sadly. Then he seemed to think about that. “We could not give them back.”

“Dad, I am right here,” King reminded. “We don’t live here.”

“A shame,” Wil commented, then he held his hands out. “May I hold them, pretty please?”

“Just don’t kidnap them,” King allowed.

Dark passed Lunky over to Wil, Lunky made an unhappy screeching cry and tried to hold onto Dark’s coat.

Wil chuckled, “Don’t worry, I’ll give you back to him.”

Lunky was suddenly very quiet, going completely limp, their eyes large dark orbs as they started devouring Wil’s aura.

“What a little delight,” Wil smiled. “Can they talk to animals too?”

“No, it’d be so much easier if they could,” King sighed.

Dark walked over and lessened the spells keeping Lunky 3-D and they popped back into their actual form. Wil almost dropped them but Dark caught the spawnling.

Lunky quickly stretched onto the wall and started investigating the room.

“Huh,” Bim commented, “weird gift, do they sleep on a drawing of a bed or an actual bed.”

King let out a bubbling, uncomfortable laugh, “They don’t.”

“What? Sleep?” Bim asked.

“Yes,” King answered. “I’ve barely been sleeping.”

Dark pulled a scroll from the Void and passed it over to King, “This is what I used to use on all of you.”

Looking Dark dead in the eye, King said, “You are the best, if this even works half as well as it did on me.”

Dark smirked at him.

The conversation kept going and Bim went off to hunt again and Wil raced off to the attic with Yan to find something. Leaving Dark, the Host, and King alone with Lunky in the living room. The spawnling seemed to be resting but King knew it wouldn’t last and he would actually go to sleep.

Lunky was resting against Dark’s shoulder, still a flat image, and Dark was just sitting in one of the armchairs, watching them rest.

“You know,” King commented. “When they’re like this, I kinda forget they can be an absolute nightmare.”

“Hopefully that spell works for you,” Dark replied.

“How long did it take Bim to start talking?” King asked. “We came in when he was already talking and walking.”

“We got Bim when he was eight months old, he was walking before he started talking. Wil accidentally said the word “fuck” and that was his first word. I was furious. He started talking when he was almost two. Lunky is a little bit more developed than Bim was. However, Bim was completely artificial.”

King made a face that showed that he wasn’t too reassured by those words. “Okay so should I be doing something?”

“The Host should suggest that there is a strong possibility that Lunky could never be able to fully speak,” the Host warned.

The room went quiet.

“Is that caused by something in their aura?” Dark asked.

“It is something within Lunky’s nature,” the Host reported. “There is a possibility that the Host is wrong, but the Host doubts that.”

“Okay,” King said.

Dark frowned, “A large portion of the heroes can sign, you and Illinois can sign, so can I, Wilford seemed to be able to read his mind. Communication shouldn’t be an issue. It would be a shame if we wasted their time and sanity trying to push them to communicate in a way that makes them uncomfortable.”

“Yeah,” King was very quick to agree, taking in a huge breath and nodding, looking more resolute by the second. “I can talk to birds and dogs. Humans are just another animal, right?”

“Some more so than others,” Dark offered as a barbed comment.

King looked nervous as he looked at Lunky, “I just don’t want to hurt them. I want them to be happy and safe.”

“You’ll do fine,” Dark reassured.

“Because you raised six kids?” King tried to smile.

“Well experience certainly helps,” Dark smiled. “But I meant to say that you won’t be trying to raise this one in secret like I did with all of you.”

“How did you manage that, anyways?” King asked. “We went to Disneyland one year. Dad broke an entire rollercoaster and killed fifteen people.”

“I used the Anomaly to perfectly replicate areas we wished to take you,” Dark answered. “I even replicated police involvement to keep your father entertained.”

“You absolute ass,” King cursed. “You took us to bootleg Disneyland?”

The Host chuckled at that.

“I will have you know it took a full year to investigate the entire park, including how character actors and crowds reacted,” Dark defended. “Did you expect me to bring Wil, Bim, and Arthur to an actual theme park and have nothing happen?”

“Fair,” King grumbled, and then groaned as he checked his phone. “Alright let’s get back to the base.”

“Before you leave,” Dark held up his hand and a necklace with an eye design on it. It swirled with a myriad of colors. “Something I had to learn the hard way. Spawnlings require aura to survive and grow. Like physical activity for a human. Their own will not feed them. So you have a choice: human or demonic aura.”

“To eat?” A pit formed in King’s heart.

“Yes, a new spawnling can strip all the aura from a human and render them a hollow, dry husk, matured demons have more control over it,” Dark warned. “What would you like to feed your child?”

“Uh, how do I get demon aura?” King asked apprehensively.

“Well now that depends, either an older, more experienced demon can donate their aura to a younger one, helping that spawnling grow stronger,” Dark explained. “Or you could kill a lesser, weaker demon and take all their aura to make oneself more powerful.”

That alarmed King instantly. “Demons can actually die?”

“Not from a single hit or even a volley of hits, killing a demon is a drawn out process but if the lesser is significantly weaker and the other demon is significantly stronger the fight is almost not fair. I have to kill some upstart every couple of months who tries to wander into Egoton thinking they can just take over. Typically I can just run them out and if they’re smart they won’t come back, other demons not so much. Why not put all that energy to good use?”

“O-Okay,” King allowed.

“I figured you would side with the humans so I took the time to mix my own aura with another demon’s that I recently subdued,” Dark told him. “At Lunky’s current appetite this should last him a couple months.”

King moved to put on the necklace but Dark stopped him. “Try to avoid putting it on, we wouldn’t want Lunky to associate you with food, now would we? You have far less aura than I do.”

“Right,” King pocketed the necklace and King took Lunky back who was upset to leave Dark’s arms and aura, but was quieted when they were given the necklace to chew on. Wil and Dark said their goodbyes. The Host took Lunky and King back to the base.

A calm settling back over the city.

[rebelsandtherest]

Do you ever think there was a moment in the 1800s

Where Antonio went over to North America to help out with the fight against the U.S., and he runs into this absolute madman / demon / crazymotherf*cker / lanky blond man who carries like three guns and two knives at any given point in time, hasn’t showered for weeks and has probably been riding a horse for multiple days, curses like a sailor, and may just like, never sleep

And then he finds out it’s Alfred

And by the time Antonio is there, Alfred’s already taken a large percentage of his land and is yeehaw-ing even further west

And Antonio is quietly, to himself, just like

oh god it’s privateer Arthur all over again

except in the damn desert

[whiskehorange]

Under the Mistletoe

It’s that time of year, so here is the Christmas Special you all deserve for my absence since a month ago & for the few days past Xmas that I didn’t have a charger! I hope you all have a Merry Christmas (or whatever tickles your fancy!) and a Happy New Year!

Jason

The Tree: 

You’ve got the widest array of large evergreen trees right in your front yard, so when you hear a large thump at your front door, that’s just Jason and the biggest tree you’ve ever seen. If you focus one the bottom half of the tree, he’ll get the top, and once the two of you are finished, he’ll raise you up so the both of you can put the star where it belongs!

The Baking:

Boy oh boy does this boy love to bake with you. Mainly focused on the decorating, the frosting, the sprinkles, and everything in between, you better hope you have enough baking sheets to fulfill the hundreds of sugar coated Christmas cookies Jason wants to make with you.

The Mistletoe:

A blushing madman whenever you happen to catch him under it. Of course, he’ll never deny a kiss from you, but it just makes him to soft and warm inside. Eventually, he’ll build up the courage to drag you over to the mistletoe and give you a dedicated kiss.

Michael

The Tree:

Like Jason, save the top of the tree for Michael to decorate, if you have one. He probably won’t go out of his way to buy you a tree or even hack you one down, but will make due with whatever his mother left up in the attic. You’ve got plenty of halloween decorations to put on the tree though...

The Baking:

Michael, baking? You’ve got a long day ahead of you. Good luck trying to get him to stay put to help with anything let alone him actually knowing what the fuck he’s doing. If you need any cookies or goodies cut up or diced, he’s your man. But you’ll notice cookies here and there missing from the dish every once in a while.

The Mistletoe:

Avoids it like the plague. Will purposefully walk the long way to avoid walking from under it. You’ll have to put it some where sneaky, like right in the back door and catch him when he walks in. Even then, he’ll give a defeated sigh and eventually give in, picking you up and letting you smother him.

Bubba

The Tree:

Yes! Yes! Yes! Get this boy in the decorating and party planning committee! It’s something nice for the two of you to do and boy does he love decorating. While most of the ornaments mights be bone fragments and other... spare parts, he’s pretty proud of the outcome. But just wait until he gets ahold of the tinsel. It’ll be draped across everything.

The Baking:

Don’t fret about not having any ingredients for yummy treats, everything you could ever imagine is here! And of course, so is Bubba. Decorating and topping off all of the cookies and treats is his favorite part, and he’s going to eventually make his own batch by himself all for you!

The Mistletoe:

It’s hung in  e v e r y  door frame, and he knows when you walk under one, no matter how quiet you’re walking.

Thomas

The Tree:

He’s always wanted a legit Christmas, but with Hoyt being such a grinch, he never has the chance. But Thomas finds everything about the traditions you show him to be so wonderful. The tree decorating is by far his favorite, even if there isn’t much to hang. Why don’t you both make some!

The Baking:

Oh, you’ve got Luda Mae tickled right to death. It’s one thing that she’s happy to have some time with Tommy to bake, but another to have you helping and shutting down Hoyt’s grouchy ass any time he walks into the kitchen. Thomas might walk out with a few flour prints on his behind, but it’s worth it.

The Mistletoe:

Personally puts it in the door to your bedroom. While he thought about the door to the basement, Hoyt tends to stand there a lot.... and no thanks. So at least now it’s a special place for the two of you to have to yourself!

Billy & Stu

The Tree:

Billy and Stu are definitely the type to get lazy and leave their tree up all year round, but when they do get the chance to decorate, each of you have a different job. Stu gets the lights, Billy on tinsel, and you on ornaments. But you know, most of the lights will end up being wrapped around all three of you, Good luck getting out of that.

The Baking:

Anything that happens in the kitchen turns into a food fight, wet or dry. Christmas music blaring and food flying across like a battlefield. Whatever the three of you end up baking never last a few days either way. From you and Billy taking a few at a time to Stu stuffing them in his pockets, good luck saving any for guests.

The Mistletoe:

Billy typically leave it with one hanging from the most walked through doorway, snaking his arms around your hips from time to time, while Stu always seems to have some stashed in his back pocket. Pucker up buttercup!

Norman

The Tree:

While every suit has their own tiny, simple tree, Norman can’t wait to put up the massive one him and his mother had. It takes a while to fully decorate, especially with some older Christmas music on and the occasional slow dance break the two of you have!

The Baking:

Norman is a decent baker, so he lets you take the lead. Watching over you and taking note of how you make things so he can too. Maybe make a few extra for guests at the front desk? They’ll get a few of the test cookies that don’t come out too good.

The Mistletoe:

Half of the time, he doesn’t notice himself picking through the mail, standing right below the damn thing when you pull him down for a kiss. The stupidest grin sliding across his face as he tries to compose himself.

Hannibal

The Tree:

If Hannibal had it his way, he really wouldn’t decorate that much of his house for the holiday, but if you want to, be his guest! Big tree, little tree, flashy lights, no lights, anything at all and he’s bound to have it up and ready for you to decorate the next day!

The Baking:

He’s more of a cook, but isn’t opposed to doing anything in the kitchen with you. Mainly for when he grabs and puts away things for you. It’s not that he doesn’t think that you can’t put them away, but he’ll just do it. Keep it organized. Besides, you made wonderfully flavorful treats for him to snack on when no one is watching!

The Mistletoe:

Hannibal is, however, very strict in his mistletoe rules. Anytime you walk under it, you MUST kiss him and vise versa. Those things are something that he’ll never overlook in a holiday.

Amanda

The Tree:

She wasn’t too into the idea of all of the decorations and lights, finding herself too busy to do anything, but that would change. It’s pretty therapeutic when she finally gives in to your pleading, especially once the two of you are all done and she can step back and look at something beautiful she’s contributed to. 

The Baking:

Also... not really the biggest fan of baking, but doesn’t mind helping you every once in a while when you need it. Put on some music and maybe she’ll consider icing anything. But she’ll have her hands in the cookies jar from time to time.  

The Mistletoe:

Doesn’t really avoid it all the time, but doesn’t really pay too much attention to it. She loves all of the attention you give her, but won’t ever make it out as though she wants it. She’s gotta keep up that tough girl look! Save the kisses for when the two of you are alone!

Bishop

The Tree:

A tree? Well, he’s never really had a personal one for his lab nor has ever really... participated in Christmas, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t open to celebrating it with you! Bishop fancies the tree the most, wiring up a few lights here and there turns into the whole ship being covered in flashy red and green lights. Thanks Bishop.

The Baking:

Uhm.. not really his strong suit. He’s wired to know basic recipes from rations and what the had, but that didn’t mean that he was particularly good at it. He’s up for learning, of course, so he can retain the information, though! Although, he feels bad he has no benefit to eating what you’ve made, but he’ll force the crew mates to eat them.

The Mistletoe:

Just one hung up is good enough, one in the doorway to his lab. A lot of people walk through there, but the only one he’s concerned about it you.

Nick

The Tree:

He’s such a dad. I mean, just look at him and how he acts. Nick’s like a kid when it comes to decorating and will stay up all night covering the entire house in anything Christmasy he can get his hands on. He’s got the matching ugly sweaters for the two of you to wear while he absolutely destroys the tree in tinsel.

The Baking:

He doesn’t care what you have plans for making, he’s going to eat it and cover it in any frosting he can find. Nick isn’t the worst baker, but he has fun while doing it, so thats what counts. Even when he takes some to Ward he’s got a goofy smile on his face while talking to that grinch.

The Mistletoe:

You can see his ears twitch and his face go red whenever he catches himself under the mistletoe, but thats only when you give him that sly smile and place a hefty shmack right on his lips. Hey, maybe he’ll take some and tease Ward with it.

Arthur

The Tree:

Arthur has the best time doing just about anything with you, no matter what it is. While the two of you might not have the room for the biggest tree, Arthur makes up for it in enthusiasm. It’s simple decoration, but that doesn’t mean it’s not enough!

The Baking:

Arthur’s got some room for improvement. The days of TV dinners and messy dishes are over, so lets get to baking! It makes him feel like a kid again, and boy doesn’t it feel a bit nice to not have a care in the world for a while. The two of you are bound to leave the kitchen with frosting and icing on your faces, but what’s the fun in clean cooking?

The Mistletoe:

He’s a bit bashful just about every time he even looks at the mistletoe hanging there, thinking about how much you really love him. Even a part of him wishing that you really did, that hopefully none of this was a dream, but if it was, he never wants to wake up. But for now, just come and kiss him!

Barbara & Adam

The Tree:

Even in the afterlife, they’ve still kept up all of the decorating and celebrating for the holidays. It something the three of you can do, even Lydia as well! The tree is the greatest asset of it all, only the biggest evergreen sat right in the corner of the living room. Don’t even get me started on how many ornaments they have.

The Baking:

Thats something Barbara takes pride in with you, Adam will just sneak in from time to time and snatch a cookie until one of you catches him and shoos him back into the basement. Barbara has just about every cookie cutter you can imagine, so don’t be afraid to have her bust them out of the cabinets for you.

The Mistletoe:

Those two will be under the mistletoe for hours, going back and forth, laughing and smiling at each other like teenagers. You and Lydia can’t help but just watch and laugh at them, rolling your eyes like you would at your parents. Eventually, when they’re done, the three of you can have your time under the Mistletoe 2.0 (that ones for hugging)!

[brassandblue]

"You look like an ad for death" for Arthur!!

Arthur, who had only just been able to obtain a bracing cup of tea, but hadn't yet had the chance to actually imbibe, turned his head slowly to give João such a look as to pierce stone. His wild mane of tawny hair gave him the air of a mad scientist, and the worry lines and bags under his eyes did absolutely nothing to change that. Most of all, the shock of his dark eyebrows furrowed over keen, green eyes--the eyes of a sailor and therefore, the eyes of a madman--were not unlike being at the wrong end of a laser-focused sniper's barrel.

At first, he said nothing. He merely blinked, took a long sip of tea, and then finally said:

"But do I make death more or less appealing? That's the important bit."

All at once his haggard stare softened to one of good, if sleepy, humor; his scowl to a gentle, playful smile.

Arthur then took another sip of tea.

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 67: The Dark Mark

Regulus was used to landing in the absolute silence by now, only the sounds of his companions groaning and shuffling back to their feet. Wherever they were was dimly lit, with a soft green hue barely enough to discern the closely packed trees surrounding their little clearing. Otherwise, there were no birds chirping, hardly a breeze blowing about, no hint of a presence beyond.

Yet when he heard Smith scream, his first instinct was still to look around for the danger, until he actually spotted her looking up.

He'd swear his heart stopped in his chest, he felt like he may as well be looking into another mirror that could show his future. The Dark Mark hung above them in all its glory.

"What, what is it?" Evans hissed, backing to the far edge of the clearing, looking from the symbol to Alice like she expected all of us to start sprouting extra heads.

No one seemed to want to be the one to tell her, all eyes still fixated on the skulls bottomless depth, the snake entwined through every thought he'd ever had. He knew he couldn't form the words as his throat kept convulsing.

"It's the Dark Mark," Potter finally got out, breaking his gaze away but talking more to her shoes. "It's, You-Know-Who's symbol, it means someone's died."

Regulus felt more than saw as everyone then began inspecting the ground instead, as if waiting for the dead body to appear. They'd once landed in the same spot as a deceased unicorn, would they for a person as well?

"Harry?" She asked of no one.

Potter could only swallow in answer, and now everyone was scanning the ground for the book to give an answer. He did seem the most likely, and some very small horrible part of each of them almost hoped it to be true. Maybe, if this was how Harry died, they would finally be free of this madness casting them about and get back to their time, their life.

No one got a chance to do anything else though as Sirius launched himself at his once friend and socked him clean in the nose.

Peter hit the ground, blood pouring down his face once more, except now from broken cartilage in the center of his face rather than his ear.

"Sirius!"

"Padfoot, mate what the hell-"

"If you killed him too, I swear I'll-" The elder Black fought like crazy to get Lupin off of him again, Potter scrambling in between them desperately. It was so like the last time, right before Lupin had transformed, Frank couldn't help to back even farther away in fright, glancing up at the sky once more, trying to see past the deadly skull and snake to wherever the moon might be.

Alice dithered on the spot, as if she wanted to help but didn't know who. Evans drew her wand but seemed unclear who to point it at. Regulus didn't even hesitate and darted to Peter's side, offering him a hand up, and letting out a sigh of relief when Peter took it.

He may have staggered to his feet, but did nothing more. He didn't draw his wand to defend himself, or fix his now clearly broken and swelling nose, he just clasped his arms in front of him and cringed in place, as if prepared to take whatever blow came next.

"Sirius! Sirius stop!"

He didn't seem capable of even listening to Prongs anymore, he fought out of the arms pinning him like a madman, unable to see or hear anything but James screaming and the green light dousing everything around them. Then his own face exploded with pain.

"Oi!"

"I am not holding him back so you can-"

Regulus drew his wand and pressed it against the pulse in his older brothers neck. He didn't care Potter shoved him back away or that Lupin now looked likely to let Sirius go and throw a punch himself, all he saw was that he finally had Sirius Black's irrevocable attention.

He spat a bit of blood onto the ground, and against all odds an almost cocky grin slipped into place. "Well look at you, throwing a Muggle blow. Didn't think you had it in you."

Regulus had known exactly what he was doing, and didn't let himself be distracted as he flicked his wand to where he wanted him to see. "Look at him Sirius, really look at him."

He instead busied himself by wincing and pulling at his nose as if to fix it back into place, Lupin and Potter stood at his shoulders ready for whatever came next. Regulus was not backing down, he was tired of second guessing himself.

"Regulus, please don't-"

but Regulus spoke louder, stamping his foot and demanding attention. "How can you lecture me on the decisions of my life, dare call them your friends, when you're just as much of a two-faced, back-stabbing, arse!"

His chest was heaving by the end, but it felt like he'd finally thrown a brick from his chest getting all of that out. He stood waiting for Sirius to hit him, yell at him, something. Instead Sirius' sharp gray eyes wavered from him, he finally dared to look where he'd refused before. He tried to turn away just as quickly again, but everything was still swathed in a green light he'd always hated so much.

The air caught in his throat, his eyes stung. If he looked at him for too long all he'd see was his own mistakes seeping into others all over again. It's not like it was hard to imagine what he could have done to Peter in the future to cause him to get James killed...which meant he was the one to-

Turning sharply away, he went as far as he could from the others, mentally begging anyone from following him, not trusting his voice to say it regardless. His foot crunched over something along the way and he didn't even pause to see what.

Potter and Lupin exchanged a wordless look before Lupin took after him once more. The two were just visible in the verdant gloom. Potter just looked desperately between the two and Peter, who was looking after Sirius as well longingly. He'd seen something on his face, there for just a second, but wasn't even sure what to make of it. It certainly wasn't the all-consuming hatred he'd been expecting. Not able to look at anyone else now, he finally quietly summoned the book to him. It came shooting to his hand from a nearby tree, and he read the almost predictable chapter title now.

Regulus for his part was left fuming in place, even if he still did feel just slightly better for finally getting to fully say his piece. He didn't know what was going to happen next, but he liked to think this was a step in the right direction.

Frank, Lily, and Alice all felt like spectators at the most awkward show imaginable. They had no stakes in this recurring bomb of a life. Well, Lily supposed she should, as she watched Potter bend down and pick up whatever Black had stepped on.

Pettigrew was reading quietly but swiftly, before they knew it the peace of the game in the book was as much a thing of the past as it had been the moment they'd landed here. The kids were running for their lives, a Muggle family was being put on a grotesque display. The closer she looked, she saw the way Pettigrew's skin turned sallow as he described it all happening, how sick he looked at the thought that really could be him one day. She watched Potter's hand close convulsively over what appeared to be a toy, a little Quidditch player with its arm popped out of socket.

Now Harry's wand was missing, and he was possibly running for his life. She couldn't get it out of her head, that the Death Eater's were going to catch up to him and end his life. She chanced a glance towards Black and Lupin, standing as close to each other as they could, gazes unwillingly fixed back on the book just like everyone else's. It had amazed her, among other things, how all four of them had almost instantly accepted this future and begun talking about Potter's kid as some inevitable thing to be.

She was only just catching up, she was sixteen for crying out loud! If she ever fantasized about having kids, it certainly wasn't with Potter! She couldn't even pretend to deny it anymore, her heart clenched with painful worry as a boy who was to be her son was separated even farther, now it was only him and his two friends alone with a threat out here.

A nightmare she never even knew she could have seemed about to come to life before her ears, she staggered back in fear even as she drew her wand for a protection that wasn't her own, despite no threat appearing. Harry was surrounded, and she wanted to help him.

Peter Pettigrew's voice shook, he stammered for a few more painful moments before looking to James Potter for what to do, still a source of comfort. Only the steady look of worry for his boy remained as he finally read it out, and there was a tiny break of relief it was only stunners sent his way. Then, a more stable breath of fresh air, as it turned out to be the Ministry coming to call for whichever Death Eater had sent up the signal instead of the opposite.

What happened next was a madhouse, and yet somehow still easier to take in stride as a house-elf was accused of these crimes and a high-end official of the Ministry Winky belonged to seemed to take control of the mess. Harry's wand having done it all was the only piece she latched onto. When had this shift occurred? At what point had she finally allowed herself to admit she was worried about this kid- her kid?

As Arthur Weasley explained in more detail what exactly had happened, and Hermione mentioned she'd know because of a book, it occurred to Lily to think of this backwards. What Harry would think of her if he'd seen how she'd been acting towards him all this time. She glanced helplessly at Alice and Frank, who were standing in each other's arms for comfort.

If Severus had been here, would she be doing the same? Seeking comfort in familiarity? Through every step of this she'd clung to her current life without admitting it may well be her past.

[merakiaes]

Warmed Up - Arthur Shelby

Pairing: Arthur Shelby x reader

Requested: Yes.

Prompts: #2, #3 and #4 from the common tropes-list. 

Warnings/notes: A bit of implied smut, maybe, nothing too major. Hope this was what you wanted and that you like it!

Wordcount: 3753

Summary: You get caught up in a storm with Arthur on your way home from London and have to seek shelter in an abandoned cabin in the woods, where you are forced to share body heat to keep warm. 

Driving all the way to London with Arthur and only Arthur wasn’t something you’d put in the top ten on your ‘things I want to do’-list. Not that you had a list like that to begin with, but you probably made your point clear.

It wasn’t that you disliked him, quite the opposite, really. You liked him really much. Probably too much. The problem was that he was so God damn socially awkward.

With everyone else, he could laugh and joke around like an absolute madman without any problem whatsoever. It was that side of him that had made you attracted to him in the first place.

But with you, he was the exact opposite. He was quiet, reserved and quiet as a mouse, so to speak. It was infuriating.

You talked a lot, especially when in the company of someone you genuinely enjoyed being with. So it was a given that you would have preferred it if the person on the other side of the conversation actually talked back.

But Arthur never did. He just listened, glanced at you when he thought you weren’t looking, and fidgeted whenever you would visibly catch him in the middle of the act.

You weren’t an idiot. In fact, the reason you had been offered a position as a Peaky Blinder in the first place was because of your abnormally high intelligence and ability to talk yourself into and out of every imaginable situation.

You knew he fancied you, just like you did him. The first three months or so, you had just waited for him to finally gather the courage to spark up a conversation with you alone and act on the attraction everyone – yourself included - could see he had for you.

But that moment never came, so you had to take matters into your own hands. 

You had been trying to get him alone for another three months now, but Tommy kept you busy, and him as well, always sending you off in different directions.

And when you on the very rare occasion actually did get the chance to talk to him alone, he took any excuse he could find to get away from you.

He avoided you as if you had the worst case of the clap in history, which after three months of waiting around for him, and another three months of desperately trying to get his attention, caused your feeling of attraction to be pushed back and locked away in a chest at the back of your mind.

Now, every time you saw his face or heard his name, you would instantly get bitter and turn your head the other way.

Mature, right? Well, in your defense, the women in your family had always had a certain immature stubbornness to them. If anyone should be blamed, it should be the women before you for passing it down another generation.

The car ride to London had been so quiet it was actually physically painful, and the air hanging over the two of you was thick enough to cut with a dull butter knife.

But the entire situation only got worse when you made the mistake of driving home despite being warned about an upcoming storm, in which you were now caught with a broken-down car.

The rain smattered violently on the metal surface of the car, and just as violently on your body. 

You were soaked from head to toe and chilled all the way to your bone. You were hugging your arms close to your chest in a desperate attempt to preserve the little body heat you still had left, but you could sadly admit that it was doing nothing of the sort.

You sighed for what seemed to be the hundredth time in the past ten minutes, bouncing your foot lightly to get your blood running.

“Come on, Arthur.” You called out over the loud rain, squinting your eyes in order to see him cleared through the water that had built up on your eyelashes. “We should go look for some help, you obviously can’t fix it by yourself.”

But Arthur didn’t move and inch, barely even reacting where he was bent into the hood of the car, pulling and pushing at things he probably had no idea what to do with.

“I’ve got it.” He insisted in a snappy voice, without a doubt annoyed from your nagging. But you didn’t care.

You rolled your eyes and uncrossed your arms, taking three long strides towards where he was standing and roughly grabbed at the fabric of his soaked coat, pulling him up from the car to his full height.

He glared down at you, but before he even got the chance to yell anything back at you, you reached up and smacked the hood closed, missing his fingers by barely a millimeter.

“You obviously haven’t got it and that’s fine. There’s no shame in needing help. Now come on, I had a lot of things on my agenda today and getting hit by lighting was not one of them.”

Just as the final word passed your lips, a deafening clap of thunder hit right above you, causing both of you to jump slightly. It was getting significantly closer.

“Where do you suppose we’re gonna get any help then, ay? We’re in the middle of fookin’ nowhere!”  He yelled back, ripping his arm out of your grasp in all his furious glory.

“Well, anywhere is better than here!” You kept arguing, throwing your arms out in exasperation. “If we don’t find help, we can in the very least try to find shelter, somewhere to take cover until the storm’s blown over.”

“There’s cover in the car.” He threw his arm out towards the car for extra emphasis. “I’ve told you to get back in there for the past ten minutes but you just have to be so fookin’ stubborn all the time.”

He turned around to open the hood again, propping it open and getting back to not knowing what he was doing in the slightest.

You yelled out in frustration. “The car is cold, Arthur! There’s surely some place nearby where we could settle down and start a fire or something.”

Without waiting for an answer you re-did the procedure you had done only a minute before, grabbing the back of his coat this time and janking him away from the car so that you could slam the hood shut.

He whipped around to face you with nothing but anger behind his eyes, but before he got the chance to utter a single word, your fist hit his chest in a harsh and actually rather painful blow.

“Could you just stop arguing with me on every single thing and get your head out of your arse?!” You yelled while you delivered another punch to his chest. “I’m fucking freezing and if I stay out in the rain any longer, I’m going to get fucking hypothermia and have to amputate my limbs!”

You went to punch him a third time, but this time around he caught your wrist before you could hit him, and then your second wrist as well when you raised it to try a second time.

You glared up at him, but found that the anger behind his eyes was now gone as if it had never been there in the first place. Instead, he was just staring down at you with a look you couldn’t quite figure out the meaning of in your angry state.

“Alright.” He agreed, his voice now much quieter than it had been before. Once he was sure you weren’t going to hit him again, he carefully let your wrists go. “We’ll go look for help, or shelter. Just, calm yourself.”

His voice was rough, but his eyes were soft, calming you down easier than you would’ve like to admit.

You just gave him a curt and determined nod, straightened out the sleeves of your coat and turned on your heel, starting to walk towards an unknown destination.

He followed behind you silently, coming up to walk at your side. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him stuffing one of his hands to his pocket, while he used the other one to pull his wet hair out of his face, slicking it back over the middle of his head.

But it only stayed in place for a second before it fell right back into his face, and even in the midst of your fuming anger, you had to stop yourself from reaching over and fixing it. 

The longing to touch him wasn’t an unusual occurrence for you, but in the circumstances you were currently in, it just drew a scoff from you, and either he just ignored it, or the rain was too loud for him to hear it.

You walked around in the rain for what seemed like an eternity, not spotting as much as a shed to bunker down in.

It was getting dark and the storm was still raging on without any intent of stopping. You were just about to give up and admit defeat, when you finally caught a glimpse of something red in the middle of the trees in the distance.

You squinted your eyes to make sure you weren’t just fooling yourself, that it wasn’t just a trick of your mind caused by that uncomfortable lightning between light and dark. But as you walked closer, it became apparent that you were truly seeing what you thought you were seeing.

Your eyes widened, relief flooding your body at the sweet sight of the small cabin and your hand shot out to tug on Arthur’s sleeve out of instinct.

“Arthur!” You yelled over the sound of the rain, tugging more aggressively at his coat.

He turned to look at you, and you pointed towards the cabin, yelling out: “There!”

Once Arthur had spotted the small, red house, too, the two of you wasted no time in sprinting off, having to shield your faces as the wind started pulling even harder at your clothes and hair.

Luckily, you made it to your goal in just another minute, and hurried inside, Arthur actually having to force the front door shut as the wind was fighting back so hard.

When he finally got it shut after a few seconds of struggles, thanks to the shitty, loose lock and handle you allowed yourselves to take a look around.

Arthur went into a room to the right of the front door, while you ventured into the one on the opposite side. 

The big table in the middle of the room and the pieces of broken chairs littering the floors suggested that this had once been a kitchen, but judging by the state of the place, no one had lived here for years.

The floorboards were soft and rotten, a thin layer of moss covering a big part of it. The walls were yellow and damaged by water, and you could tell just by looking at it that the house was most definitely mold infested, and that you should get out of there as soon as you possibly could to avoid getting sick.

But then again, you would without a doubt get sick if you left, too. Now that you thought about it, feeling the way your clothes stuck uncomfortably to your skin and hung heavily off of your shaking body, you were probably already on your way there, assuming Arthur was in the same state as you.

You got lost in your thoughts as you were looking around, completely missing that Arthur had entered the room and called your name. It wasn’t until he reached out and touched your shoulder that you came back to reality, or rather jumped back to reality.

Out of pure instinct, you reached your own hand up to grab the one on your shoulder, twisting it and turning around with your other hand fisted in the air, ready to strike.

Luckily, Arthur was well used to your jumpy antics after six months of knowing you and easily caught your fist in the air. 

You quickly registered his face and hurried to let go of his hand, noting by the way that he was clenching his jaw that the position you had twisted it into was less than pleasant.

Rather than apologizing however, you simply glared. “Don’t sneak up on me like that, if I had a gun I could’ve killed you.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t.” He threw back tiredly. “So quit your whinging and come on. We have to get you out of your clothes and get you warm. Started a fire in the living room and found some old blankets that still felt alright enough to use.”

The second he spoke those words, the smell of burning wood reached your nostrils and you could feel your entire body tingling with excitement at the thought of getting warm. 

Taking another look at the man in front of you, you noticed that he was now only wearing his undershirt and pants, with his suspenders hanging limply at his sides, probably having discarded the rest of his clothes by the fire to dry.

Too tired and cold to fight back, you just let him lead you to the room you had watched him disappear into when you first got inside, pleased to see that he had, in fact, managed to start a fire that was now burning high in the long-ago abandoned fireplace in the middle of the room.

To the side of the fire, he had draped his clothes over an old chair, and in front of it he had pulled up an old, moth-eaten couch that he had covered with blankets so that you wouldn’t have to sit directly on the grime that had without a doubt been building up for however long this place had been abandoned.

Had it been under any other circumstances, you probably would have consider the whole thing romantic, even though it probably wasn’t meant to be. But as the circumstances were, in fact, not the best, you were just happy you would be able to get warm.

Arthur left you to undress on your own, crouching down in front of the fire and poking at the wood with a rusty fire poker to get the flames to dance just a little higher.

You raised your hands to start unbuttoning your coat, but soon came to the realization that it wouldn’t be possible. 

Your fingers were completely numb and your hands, and your entire body with them, shaking more than you originally realized, making you completely unable to grasp the tiny buttons between your fingers.

And it you couldn’t even get a hold of them, you sure as hell wouldn’t be able to push them all through the narrow, tiny holes of the fabric, either.

You sighed sourly, coming to term with the fact that now was the time you would have to give up your stubbornness. You needed to get out of your wet clothes in order to get warm, but you wouldn’t be able to on your own.

“Arthur.”

His name fell quietly from your lips, but as the room was silent if you didn’t count the crackling of the fire and smattering of the rain against the roof and windows, he still heard you, turning to look at you at the sound of his names being called.

You silently moved your hands up to the first button, demonstrating with shaky fingers that you couldn’t undo them by yourself.

He stared at you for a moment after you had let your hands fall back to your sides, before wordlessly putting the fire poker to the side and standing up, coming over to you where he wasted no time in starting to unbutton your coat with nimble fingers.

You just stood there limply, gazing at his face as he put all of his concentration on the task at hand. 

It was clear that it took some effort, his hands clearly, although not numb like yours as he was now on the fourth button, still very cold.

He quickly reached the bottom of your coat, and instead of walking away to let you undress by yourself like you had expected him to do, he instead started peeling the article of clothing off your arms to reveal your equally as soaked through white blouse.

And as always with white clothing, when it was soaked through, it was also very see through. And of course, this just happened to be the only day you decided not to wear a bra, as the trip to London had been a last minute call and you were originally supposed to have your day off.

No sane woman walked around their home on a day off with a bra on.

He was flustered by the fact that he could now practically see your bosom, something you could see clearly by the way his eyes flickered from your chest to your eyes before he hurriedly fled to the chair that had held his clothes with your coat in his hand.

He moved his own clothes to the side slightly so that he could hang your coat at the back of the chair, and then made move to go back to his spot by the fireplace. But before he could get very far, you cleared your throat, causing him to halt and turn back to you.

And this time, he wasn’t the only one to be flustered.

You were happy the warm hue of the fire illuminated the room, or else he would’ve for sure been able to see the faint dusty pink on your cheeks.

You cleared your throat again, motioning to the belt and several buttons of your black cargo pants. “I need help with this, too.”

Arthur didn’t make any sound of protest, only avoiding your eyes and coming back up to where you stood and wasting no time in getting to work on your belt.

He undid the clasp and left the belt in the loops, going straight to the buttons. One button, two buttons, three buttons, four, and your pants were successfully undone and ready to get rid of.

This time, it was Arthur’s time to clear his throat, as he slowly started inching them down your hips. But it was easier said than done, the wet fabric having sucked onto your skin like a leech.

He had to get down on his knees to even have a chance to get them off, and out of instinct, your hands went to his hair, holding on gently to keep your balance as you helped pull your legs out of the pant-legs.

Once they were completely off he stood back up, his face now much closer to yours than it had been before he kneeled down,

Your eyes locked together, both scanning each other with almost suspicious gazes. 

His breath was warm against your cold lips and smelled of the countless of cigars he had smoked on the way to, in and from London; a smell you had hated before you met him but had now grown to love because you loved him.

You caught yourself by surprise when thinking that, as it had been the first time you had really admitted your feelings towards him to yourself.

But Arthur took both you and himself by surprise when he in the next second with hurried motions leaned in, closing the small space between you and attaching his lips to yours.

Your eyes widened at the sudden turn of events and your body stood frozen on the spot, not daring to move a muscle. 

You didn’t get much time, at least not as much as you would have needed, to respond to his actions, as he pulled away just as quickly.

Even though the kiss barely even lasted five seconds, it left both of you breathless. 

He looked at you, clearly debating what to do next. And to be truthful, he didn’t look to have a clue.

So you did what you had been doing, or attempting to, at least, for the past three months; you took matters into your own hands, grabbing him by the backside of his neck and pulling him back down, crashing your lips against his with thrice the force than before.

And he responded immediately, hands coming to grab at your waist to pull you closer and moving his lips against yours desperately.

As you tensed your muscles, a rather harsh shiver ran through your entire body, causing Arthur to break apart briefly.

“You’re shakin’.” He mumbled against your lips, but you were too eager to even hear what he was saying.

“Yeah.” You only mumbled back, pulling him back in for another kiss by his neck. His fingers slowly started inching the fabric of your wet blouse up and just the intense anticipation building in your chest caused your breath to grow heavier.

But much to your dismay, he came to a stop just as quickly again, visibly flinching when his now somehow warm fingers came in contact with the icy cold skin of your waist, and this time, he broke away from your lips completely, taking a small step back.

“Fookin’ hell, you’re freezing.” He commented.

A trembling chuckle left your lips at that, but whether it was from the cold or from the feeling of his fingers absentmindedly caressing your hip that you were now trembling, you didn’t know.

“Yeah.” You repeated, this time with a shaky chuckle, and you quickly came to conclusion that it was probably the cold in your bones that was causing the tremble of your body when he placed his palm flat against the curve of your back and your entire body started to shiver violently at the contrast of his burning hand against your icy skin.  

How he had managed to get his hands warmed up so quickly when they had been cold only a  minute before, you had no idea.

But no matter what he had done, you knew that you needed his rapidly growing body temperature to get your own up, and he seemed to know it as well. 

He led you over to the couch and sat down, pulling you down on his lap and draping two of the blankets over your shoulders. 

Your hands found their way to his shoulders while his hinds moved to start pulling at the strings of your blouse, all while looking you straight in the eyes. 

“Let’s get ya warmed up, eh?”