#I wish it was busier more often so I could actually Do this more often and like. use my autistic powers like this

[seilon]

i got like three different compliments from people today on my customer service and im not gonna lie I greatly enjoy feeling like im winning at Restaurant Host

[puckinghischier]

Chef’s Kiss

Nico x fem!reader, soft!Nico, domestic!Nico

summary: Nico fluff, basically

notes: i just really love soft nico and couldn’t get him out of my head so here’s this (also ignore the fact i keep using the same pics in my posts, i need to find more 💀)

[2k]

~

Nico was always trying to do little things to bring a smile to your face. Whether it was having the laundry washed, folded, and put away by the time you got home, sending you funny videos and silly selfies throughout the day, or simply having a glass of your favorite wine waiting on you as soon as you walked through the door, he loved providing small moments of happiness for you. He didn’t have time to do things for you often, his schedule getting increasingly busier as the season goes on, but today he had a completely free afternoon and wanted to have your favorite meal plated and waiting for you to enjoy as soon as you got off work. The idea came to him when you called him on what was supposed to be your lunch break.

“Neeks, I’m so sorry but I have to work late again. I’m having to re-do all of my reports for the day because my boss didn’t like the format that I used, even though it’s the exact format he told me to use three days ago! I swear sometimes he just wants to make my life a living hell. I don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

Nico had a fond smile on his face, despite the nature of your call; hearing you rant to him about work was always something he looked forward to. While he didn’t love the fact that you were upset and that your boss was a grade A asshole, he loved being the one you came to when you were frustrated and just needed to blow off steam. It always made him happy to know that he was the one you called when you needed a mid-day pick me up on particularly stressful days. He had tried to tell you multiple times to just quit—that he makes enough for the both of you to live on – but you wouldn’t even entertain the thought. You’d always tell him no and that you needed to pull your weight with the bills and rent, too. You didn’t want to have all of the tears you shed while you were in college go to waste. To quote your exact words ‘I’m going to use this damn degree even if it kills me’. He admired your work ethic and that you didn’t want to have him be your own personal bank, but it was times like this he wishes you would just take his suggestion to heart and actually quit.

“I understand, but don’t work too late, schatz. It’s not good for you. Tuck and I will be here waiting on you when you get here,” Nico looks over at the cat quietly snoozing over on the couch. “I noticed you left your lunch in the fridge; do you need me to bring you something? I don’t have to go back to the rink today for anything, so I could pick up something from that sushi place you like and we could have a little lunch date? Give you a few minutes to reset and recharge?”

“No, it’s okay. I don’t have time to eat today anyways. At this point working through lunch is the only way I’ll be able to come home before midnight. Thanks for the offer, though, Neeks. I have to go, my boss is calling me, probably to tell me something else I did wrong. I’ll text you when I leave, love you,” you hang up the phone, not giving Nico a chance to respond. He knows your boss hates when he catches you taking personal calls on company time, so he just sends you a simple “I love you, too. Please eat something and don’t work too hard” text since you hung up before he had time to tell you himself.

As soon as he pressed send, Nico grabbed his keys and took off to the grocery store. He really only went to pick up the ingredients to make dinner, but he couldn’t help making a quick stop at the local florist, grabbing a small bouquet of daisies he knows you’ll love. As he was driving home, he remembers this bakery you had told him you’ve been wanting to try, so he finds himself in said bakery picking out a few baked goods for you to taste test (and maybe a few for himself, too). By the time he had made it back home it was well past five, when you typically leave your office for the day. Once he brought his haul of groceries, flowers, and pastries in the door, Tuck greeted him by meowing loudly for his food.

“Sorry, Tuck, I’m late for dinner, aren’t I?” Nico asks the cat as he walks over and fills the hangry cat’s food bowl. “Now that you’re fed, I need to get to work on feeding your mom. That is, if I can manage not to burn anything.”

Nico got to work immediately, turning on the cooking playlist you had made and grabbing his ‘Kiss the Swiss’ apron you had jokingly gifted him for Christmas. He pulled out the recipe book that your mom gave you two as a house-warming gift when you first moved in. Just last week you had been talking about how you missed your mom’s famous pasta, so he decided that was his attempted dish of the night. He laid out all of the ingredients and followed the recipe as closely as he could, paying special attention to all of the little notes your mother added in the margins of the typed recipe. About an hour into Nico’s cooking you sent him a text that you were nearly finished and would be home soon, but he was so busy trying to perfect making pasta from scratch that he never even looked at his phone. When he was on his third attempt at the pasta dough, he heard the front door open.

He looked over at the clock to see that it was nearly seven-thirty. He heard your keys hit the bowl sitting on the small table beside the front door and your sigh of relief once you took your shoes off. He could hear the soft thuds your feet made on the hardwood while you walked into the living room. He looked up from the counter to see your tired body drift over to the couch where Tuck laid sound asleep.

“Hey, Tuck. How was your day? Did you catch a lot of Z’s? Dream about catching mice? Poop on your dad’s pillow again?” Nico heard your soft voice say, chuckling at your last question.

The poor kitten had, somehow, got locked in yours and Nico’s bedroom a few weeks ago and neither of you noticed until it was well past feeding time and the little furball hadn’t come running into the kitchen screaming for his dinner. It took the two of you twenty minutes to hear the soft meows coming from your bedroom, the TV in the living room having drowned them out for most of the day. As soon as you opened the door Tuck came sprinting out of the room as fast as he could, acting as if he’d been in there for days. He ran straight to his food bowl and turned around, glaring at Nico and yourself. Later that evening the two of you made your way to the bedroom to settle down for the night only to find that Tuck had left a nice, smelly present on his pillow. Nico was appalled, to say the least. Gagging and holding his pillow out with straight arms as if it was poisonous. You, however, were doubled over with laughter. You fell onto the bed and was laughing hysterically when Nico finally came back into the room, no pillow to be seen.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing; it’s disgusting! The cat shit on my pillow!” Nico expressed, standing in front of the bed with his arm crossed, looking like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

“Neeks, it’s hilarious! Out of all the places in the room he could’ve shit, he saw your pillow and thought ‘Ah, yes. Dad’s pillow. I think this will be my new bathroom.” You wipe the tears from your eyes, slightly out of breath from your laughing fit.

“Well, of course it’s funny when it’s not your pillow! If he would’ve shit on your pillow, you would be as upset as I am.” Nico huffed, still in his childish stance.

“Wait, where is your pillow?”

“In the trash.”

“You threw away the whole pillow!?” you exclaimed, starting to laugh all over again.

“Of course, I threw away the whole pillow! I’m not about to sleep on that thing tonight! It’s contaminated!”

“Nico, you could’ve just gotten a new pillow case. You didn’t have to throw your whole pillow away! What are you going to sleep on tonight?” You asked him, amusement clear in your voice.

“Well…I didn’t think that far ahead,” Nico said, his stance deflating a little.

He ended up sleeping on a throw pillow from the couch that night, picking up a new pillow on his way home from practice the next morning. Since then, the two of you have always made sure to keep your bedroom door open anytime Tuck isn’t in his usual spot on the couch.

Nico smiles at the memory, completely forgetting the fact that he was supposed to be kneading the pasta dough in his hands. By the time his thoughts circulate back to the task at hand, he hears you ask the cat “Where’s your dad, huh?” followed by the sound of your clothes rustling as you move to get off of the couch.

“Nico? You in here?” you call as you walk around the corner of the living room into the kitchen. “Neeks- Oh, there you are. What are you doing?” You stopped in the doorway of the kitchen when you took in the scene in front of you. The pots and pans on the stove, the steam coming from a pot of boiling water, the smell of chicken in the oven, and the bouquet of flowers and box of pastries on the counter next to them. Then your eyes move over to Nico, noticing he was absolutely covered in flour. He had flour in his hair, on his face, on his apron, in the floor, and all over the counter.

“Nico, what the hell are you doing? What is all of this?” you asked him once the two of you made eye contact.

“Well, I was trying to have dinner waiting on you when you got home because I know you’ve had a shitty day, but I’ve just now realized that I don’t know how to make pasta from scratch.”

“Why are you trying to make pasta from scratch?” you walk towards him, laughing at how distraught he looks.

“You said you’ve been craving your mom’s pasta recipe, so I thought it would be a good way to cheer you up after the day that you’ve had,” he replied, grabbing a towel to wipe the flour off of his hands.

“Nico, I love you, I do. And I appreciate the effort, but please throw that ball of…whatever that is in the trash and just use dried pasta next time,” you look over at what’s supposed to be pasta dough, reaching him and placing your arms on his shoulders, hands coming together to rest on the back of his neck.

“I try to make you a nice meal and this is the response I get? No ‘nice try’ or ‘wow, it smells great in here!’” he jokes, looking down at you, attempting to look offended, but his eyes only reflect love and amusement.

“You’ll get real praise when you learn how to make pasta from scratch. For now, consider this your compliment,” you stand on your toes, pressing a small kiss to his lips.

“You call that a compliment? Read the apron and try again.”

You laugh before meeting him halfway for a real kiss this time, thinking to yourself just how lucky you were to have Nico in your life.

[madsblogsstuff]

heaven - joe burrow x reader (pt. 1)

INSPO:

She was innocence. A perfectly painted picture created by only the greatest higher-ups. She was the sheer image of flawless and excellence all wrapped up in a human body, and she was standing right in front of my own two eyes. Y/n Taylor - our Coach, Zac Taylor’s daughter was nothing short of gorgeous. Every-time she smiled or talked had me wanting more, and more. I couldn’t get enough of her. I knew she was destined to be mine. She was heaven on earth.

———————————————————————-

I woke up in my dorm still sore from the football game last night. As much as I love being an LSU Tiger Girl, my body still disagreed with all the intricate dance routines we do for game-days. Just something I’ll never get used to in all my years of dancing, I suppose. Yet, the pain was worth the screams of the crowd when we hit our final 8-counts and all the recognition we are able to get from the way our bodies move - in a good way. LSU and dance were traits I don’t think I could ever get rid of. Baton Rouge was my home now, and a damn good one if I do say so myself. 

I decided to clamber my way out of the lifted twin bed and get a start with my day. I opened the blackout curtains to the bright Louisiana sun, shinning its way into the small room. My roommate, Kelsey, had already left early in the morning to go see family for the day. Yes, Baton Rouge is a good home - but it would still be just as amazing if I had some family that lived here. I wish I could go see family like Kelsey did, but the fact that my family lived about 4 states over; prevented me from seeing them as often as I would like. It also prevented them from being in the stands on LSU game-days. Which meant they weren’t able to see what I worked so hard to become, why I chose dance as a sport. It made me upset, with it being my rookie year and no family to come watch every Saturday, but I have amazing teammates and friends who make up for it. 

Now, I don’t blame my parents harshly for missing game days. My dad stays busier than a squirrel in a nut factory, but both him and mom try to be here whenever they can. My dad, the one and only Zac Taylor, is the new head coach of the Cincinnati Bengals. So yeah, I really can’t blame him for not being here on game days. After making my way to the rooms private bathroom; I decided to take a nice long shower to wash away the hairspray, dried sweat, and body glitter that had invaded every bit of my skin. Turning off the water, I grabbed my towel and dried off. After doing necessary hygiene and hair styling, I put on an LSU shirt, black shorts and my white tennis shoes. The weather was about as hot as hell in Louisiana and the dorms can get pretty stuffy at times, so I always try to stay as cool as possible. I was finishing up putting my jewelry on when my phone started to ring.

“Hello?” I picked up not even bothering to look at the contact name. 

“Honey! It’s so good to hear your voice again!” A joyful voice spread from the phone to my ears and my mouth grew into a huge smile.

“Mom! It’s great to hear your voice again to. What’s going on?” I responded back, starting to miss my mom a little more than I already had been.

“Oh nothing really hun, I should be asking you what’s going on after that huge win last night! Your dad and I got to watch some it and even got to see you dance some - well from what the cameras would show”  My heart swelled, mom and dad were actually watching for me last night.

“I’m glad y’all could see me dance some, I wish you guys could be here. I miss y’all” I said, wishing I could be with my mom and dad right now.

“We miss you so much Y/n, I’m honestly still not use to seeing your bedroom empty” I heard my moms tone change. I hated hearing and seeing my mom get upset, but I know me living so far away took a toll on her.

I opened my mouth to respond, but then my mom started talking again. “Wait, how many classes do you have this week? And do you have practice any?” She questioned.

I looked over at my desk calendar checking to see if this upcoming week was busy. “Uhm, I actually only have one in person class this week on Thursday and no practice this week because it’s an off week, Why?” I questioned back.

“Why don’t your dad and I buy you a plane ticket and you come up and spend the week at home!” My eyes lit up in excitement, going to Cincinnati sounded great right now.

“Really? You guys would do that for me?” I said, surprising myself that I was able to form that sentence without screaming in happiness.

“Of course hun, I’m going to go tell your dad and get that ticket! Would you be good with leaving tonight?” 

“Yes, that sounds great! Whatever gets me to y’all the fastest!” I don’t even think happy is the word to describe my mood right now.

“Yay! I’ll text you the ticket and everything else as soon as I get it Y/n. I love you sweetheart, I can’t wait to see you!” My mom squealed into my ear. 

“Okay mom, I love you and can’t wait to see you too!” After that we said our goodbyes and I had some bags to pack.

I shoot Kelsey a text saying I had a last minute trip to Cincinnati and probably wouldn’t be here when she got back. I let her know when I’d be back and that if she needed anything - to call. I grabbed some duffel bags and started packing up whatever I had, still in shock that I was going to be able to see my parents. Even though it had only been a few months since I last saw them, being separated from them made it feel like years. 

Mom ended up sending my plane ticket about thirty minutes after our call had ended. I was departing at 7 tonight, and with it only being 11 in the morning - I had some time to kill till I needed to leave for the airport. I continued packing when my phone buzzed.

Coach Dad

Miss you lil bit ❤️ so glad you’re coming home. Let me know when you get to the airport.

Love, Dad.

I smiled at his text. He still felt the need to sign off his texts like a letter, even after the countess times of me telling him ‘people don’t do that’. Ever since my dad took the head coach position of the Bengals, I don’t have much time to see or talk to him. So, I cherish any moment I am able to get with him. Hopefully this trip would allow me to get even closer to my parents - especially my dad.

———————————————————————-

I threw all my bags in the back of my car and hopped into the drivers seat. I cranked up the car, pulled out of my dorm buildings parking lot and made the quick 20 minute drive to the airport. 

Upon arriving to the airport, it was only 4:45 p.m. - so I had time to get checked in, go through TSA and chill before my flight. Dad always said to ‘get to the airport extremely early, just incase’ although it was annoying when we flew when I was younger. I was never known to be an early bird, so leaving at 4 a.m. for 10 a.m. flights when I was a kid was dreadful. I still remember when we moved to Cincinnati, I was a bit younger when we moved but the flight over was one of those 4 a.m. deals. I texted dad and mom that I arrived at the airport and got out of the car to grab my bags. I checked in at the first desk I saw and then walked down the incredibly long terminal. ‘Why did airports have to be so big?’ I thought as my feet started to drag. I reached my boarding area and went through TSA - thankfully not having to be stopped to be patted down. After TSA, I was free to roam till the flight boarded. I wasn’t really hungry and airport food is expensive, so I don’t think I’ll get food - plus it was only a 3 hour flight, so I would just eat whatever they provide on the plane. I decided to sit down and scroll on my phone, trying to waste time. I looked at the texts my parents had sent back about my flight and to text them when I took off and landed, so I responded back to those first.

I then opened my Instagram and started to scroll through and like what was on my feed. Photos ranged from LSU posts to something my friends had posted the day before. After scrolling for a minute, a Cincinnati Bengals post popped up on my feed. Yes, I did follow the Bengals account but I never really kept up with them - I was always too invested in LSU to even think twice about the team dad coached. Plus since dad had only started coaching them this year, I really didn’t keep up with them - I hadn’t even gone to a game yet. The post consisted of introducing their rookies and their stats after the first few games. First slide: Tee Higgins - Wide Receiver, Second slide: Logan Wilson - Linebacker, Slide three: Akeem Brian- Davis - Linebacker, Fourth and final slide: Joe Burrow - Quarterback.

Joe Burrow. Joe Burrow. Joe Burrow. I repeated his name in my head over and over, but where had I heard it from? I decided to look this Burrow kid up and to say I was shocked was underplaying it.

Joe Burrow - Heisman Trophy Winner 2019!

Joe Burrow Drafted First Pick for Cincinnati Bengals!

Joe Burrow and LSU win 2019 National Championship!

Joe Burrow. The name made sense now. Joe Burrow. The dude was a fucking legend at LSU… and he just so happened to be playing for my dads team. I remember hearing people talk about him when I first arrived at LSU, especially the girls. I guess I’ve never put two and two together till now. I looked at pictures of him. I’ll give it to him - he was pretty cute, but from what I’ve heard he had a reputation at LSU; specifically a fuck-boy one. 

I looked up more about Burrow. Something about him was so interesting to me, I couldn’t figure out what it was though. I’m honestly surprised no one had asked me about him yet because of my dad - but I guess since dad was new, nobody really knew I was his daughter. 

Looking at his pictures more made notice how Joe looked absolutely angelic… like something from heaven. I shouldn’t get caught up in obsessing over him though. He had a bad reputation at LSU and most likely now, and I needed to keep mine a clean slate. I was attending school on a full ride athletic scholarship because of dance - being that the LSU Tiger Girls recruited me for their squad without even having to tryout.

If I ever got into an entanglement with a guy like Joe Burrow then there’s no telling what it would do to my character. There’s no way a guy that looks like Joe would step foot in my direction though. I’m the coaches daughter, so if he ever did figure out about me then I’d probably be way off limits…and he’d be totally out of my league.

After all my research and pondering, the airport intercom called over to say my flight was boarding. I grabbed my carry on bag from beside my chair and made my way to the tunnel outside of the plane, making sure to text my parents that we were boarding and going to leave soon. Once the other passengers and I were boarded and sat in our seats, the pilot went over the basic rules of plane, what to do in an emergency, and all the extra details. Once he finished and the plane was ready, we were good for take-off. As I relaxed in my seat and looked out my window at the runway lights, I couldn’t help but think about three things: Cincinnati, my parents, and Joe Burrow.

———————————————————————-

first part ever! ah so excited - i hope this turns out to be all i wanted in a fanfic, and i hope you guys enjoy it! <3

[girorodesu]

Some readerxScrewllum/Svarog/Sam headcannons I got possessed to write.

During your journey through the universe, you've run into three different mechanical men, all with very different personalities and preferences but regardless you are smitten with the three of them equally and these feelings are reciprocated even moreso by these handsome mechs.

Due to the distance between the three of them and yourself at any given time, it was decided that the best arrangement was to 'share' your attention, since all three have responsibilities in their respective rolls it is only fair to let you spend time with who you please to ensure you get the attention you deserve. While the three of them agreed to this, not all are pleased with the idea of sharing you.

Screwllum:

-Screwllum has one of the busier schedules of the three. So whenever you wish to see him you communicate your intentions to visit him in advanced since there is always the chance he is won't even be on his planet. Screwllum's current location at any given time is as uncertain as Sam's since they both travel a lot for work. Unless he is in the middle of something important Screwllum will wrap things up quickly to meet you where you desire.

- At first Screwllum would pick you up wherever you were if you wanted to see him, since he has his own ship. However he soon realized it was better for you to be able to traverse as you please even though it potentially meant less time with you since you could visit the others. Regardless, with your best interests in mind he commissioned a ship just for you, it is even better than his own with many safety features to ensure you can safely travel amongst the stars.

-due to your relationship with several inorganic lifeforms, Screwllum takes this as a sign that you are interested in them. (Whether you are or not is uour discretion) he turns this assumption into education, taking you to museums on his planet and other inorganic planets to show you about the history of inorganic life, sometimes he will speak his thoughts on the subject freely as it is something he specializes in and cares about deeply. Your interest in the subject he cares about only drives his affection for you deeper.

- Screwllum owns a specially build organic garden, with many flora and insects within it. Especially butterflies of different species. As a lighthearted joke, you started giving the butterflies names, Screwllum finds this endearing and begins calling his butterflies by the names you chose.

-Screwllum also takes you on diplomatic excursions if you happen to be visiting him when something comes up. Screwllum is very fond of 'showing you off' to any other dignitaries, since he views you as his equal and hopes that one day you will feel enticed to help him rule his planet.

-he doesn't bring you around his endeavors with the simulated universe or other Genius Society members often, it is actually a subject he avoids. You do meet with Herta as he views her more as a 'friend' than a colleague. He once let it slip that this is due to fears that polka kakamond would harm you as a way to get to him.

Svarog:

-Svarog is both the easiest and the hardest to visit at first (before getting a ship from Screwllum) He is always nearby the robot settlement when you arrive at Jarilo-VI, getting thete to visit him with the inital hard part since unlike Screwllum or Sam he has no ability to traverse beyond his home planet.

-Svarog is the only one you do not communicate with before hand when visiting. It is simply unnecessary in Svarogs words. He had already calculated the date of your arrival with scary accuracy as everytime you arrive he happens to be preparing your favorite meal and Clara is spending the night at Hook's for a sleepover.

-out of the three svarog is the most relaxing to spend time with, he is content by your mere presence although he is also the most likely to mindlessly stroke your hair or place a hand on your waist. He shows his affection through action and touch, very rarely words.

- the main thing you do with Svarog for fun is encourage him to go to the overworld, such as visiting the theater or museum. Svarog doesn't like going to the overworld as his presence usually causes a disturbance since most see him as a threat up there and he prefers to not stir conflict. You are persistent though, and if anyone dares to say anything to svarog because he is a 'machine' you are the first to defend him since Svarog certainly would not defend himself from such accusations. (The way you defend him is definitely influenced by Screwllum and how you've seen him handle similar situations)

- You get along well with Clara, you two collaborate on ways to surprise Svarog or find gifts for him. Despite not having any need for these objects Svarog treasures them regardless.

Sam:

- you do not make arrangements to visit Sam as he is the one who initiates your meetings, he does not particularly care what you may be doing. If he wants to see you HE WANTS TO SEE YOU. Of course if you say no he respects that (to an extent, he may get pouty), Svarog and Screwllum know that this is simply the way Sam is and do not object if you have to leave suddenly because Sam wants to see you. Sam is like this because he has the most unpredictable schedule and also does not live in any specific area for you to simply 'visit' which is why he is persistent you meet whenever he is available.

- Sam takes you to different planets each time you meet. Whether its because his next script is there or because he was there prior and wanted to experience the planet again with you. It is especially jarring when visiting a planet with Screwllum and the later again with Sam. With Screwllum you see the very best a planet has to offer, high class parties and accommodations, immediate respect since you are with someone who is essentially a king, whereas with Sam you see the 'real' parts of a planet, the bad and the ugly, the parts that the upperclass would prefer to remain hidden. This is not a bad thing, both experiences are always enjoyable due to those you are with. It is simply interesting how the pair have such extremely different ways to 'experience' a planet.

- Sam is the most protective of you, although he knows what you are capable of he does get between you and anything he deems 'dangerous'. He often picks you up 'bridal style' and carries you around anywhere he deems too dangerous or if he is trying to get somewhere quick.

-Sam brings you around the other stellaron hunters often. You get along pretty well within their group, although Silverwolf questions your taste in men (Sam and Screwllum?? Really now??) As does blade but mainly in a 'really??... this guy?' Kinda way which sam gets defensive about but is quickly reassured by you.

Other:

- Screwllum and Svarog get along well enough, they both respect eachother and have adjacent ideals. Sam is the one they are both wary of. Svarog acknowledges Sam's strength and believes he is capable of keeping you safe but does not enjoy hearing of the dangers you two find yourself in. Screwllum also understands Sam's strength but has less faith in his ability to protect you, due to a history with the Stellaron Hunters he doesn't trust that Sam would put your safety above his own or his ties to the SHs, however he keeps these feelings to himself.

-Sam is the most jealous out of the three, followed by Svarog with Screwllum being the least. With Sam you can't speak of the others lest Sam becomes irritated and possessive. Svarog's jeslousy is much less severe, however he does falter when you speak fondly of the others for too long, he is also insecure due to the fact he cannot take you on such interesting adventures as the others. Screwllum is the least jealous, although he can get jealous occasionally it is never really apparent. He lets you freely discuss your activities with the others and even sometimes offers advice on how to handle the other's personalities from an 'inorganic' point of view.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is all I have so far. Its more of a 'harem' idea rather than polygamy (i could support either haha)

I have NEVER written anything remotely readerxcharacter before so please forgive my inexperience!

[sinsandsweetness]

Obsession (sex and zombies- chapter 9)

pairing- {Rick x fem!reader}

summary- You can’t even look at him without blushing. And he knows it too.

warnings- 18+ content MDNI! filthy library smut:)

notes- one of my favourite scenes in this work tbh...

You walked your way down to the library, with the intent to find something you hadn’t read yet. Which was hard since you’d read basically the entire room. But you were on a mission to find something new. While flipping through a book, you heard the door open and close behind you. 

It was Rick. 

You quickly glanced over your shoulder and saw him, button up shirt with rolled up sleeves. Only furthering the attention you pay to his arms. 

You didn’t say anything. Instead went back to your book, reading the synopsis on the back. 

“I’ve been looking for you,” you heard his deep voice behind you. 

“Oh?” You knew that. Glenn had told you.

“You’re avoiding me.” 

“I’m not.”

“Really? Then what is it? ”

When you turned around, he was much closer than a moment ago, leaning against the bookcase beside you. 

“I just…” your gaze started at his arms, then traveled to his waist, his belt, his hands. Oh god, his hands. 

“Just…?” he was waiting for an answer.

“You seemed busy. I didn’t want to…impose,” 

“If you know I’m looking for you then it’s not really imposing is it?” He took the book from your hands, that you’d been fidgeting with, and placed it back on the shelf. 

He licked his lips. Looking you up and down, and settling his gaze on your face. 

“I like this dress,” he changed the topic, pointer finger brushing the lace hem of your sundress. Inspecting the little flowers covering its delicate fabric. 

“Gotta find you some sunscreen hey?” His hand made its way up to your shoulder, your tan now a little red. All that help gardening in the summer sun. 

His touch was doing things that you used to only dream of. You craved the nights that he would sneak into your cell and kiss you all over. But the busier he got with work around the prison and little baby Judith, the less time he had for you and your personal needs.

You were understanding of course. But you still wish he'd try a little harder to get you alone like he used to, pulling you away after the sun set, hushing your giggles and moans with the palm of his hand.  

“Or maybe just less gardening shifts. You could let me take the watchtower more often.” You suggested. They were always shaded. Plus, you were a good shot. 

“No, I like having you in the field with me.”

“With you? Or just not with him?”

He smirked and raised his eyebrows. You could see it click in his head. Why you’d been avoiding him. 

After the whole watchtower situation, you’d felt a little… used, for lack of a better word. Like you were some tool to boost his ego. To prove to Daryl, and maybe even himself, how loyal you were. How well you listened. How absolutely wrapped around his finger you really were. 

And it wasn't like you didn't enjoy it. The exact opposite, actually. You couldn't even look at the two men without blushing, especially not when the others were around. You wanted a round two. Badly. It was constantly consuming your mind and memory. So you figured you could use Rick's ever-growing, busy body nature, to your advantage. As a feeble attempt to tame your very sinful desires.

The goosebumps on your arms snapped you back to Rick's attention. His hand brushing down your arm, lower now, fingers tangling in between yours. 

His voice got really low. A whisper even though you were alone. 

“Definitely not with him,” A playful grin spread across his face.

He was cornering you now. Into the book shelf. Your back hit the wood shelves. 

“But mostly, I just like watching you in those adorable overalls I found you,”

You had made a point of wearing them a lot since he gave them to you. His hands moved to your waist, giving you a slight squeeze. Your breath hitched slightly. Earning another grin from the man in front of you. 

“It's hard not to watch you all day. Looking like this. I know that he can’t help but stare. Cause I can’t either.” He admits. 

“Maybe you should be on watchtower then,” you tell him. “That way you could really watch me all day,” your hands were making their way to his belt, tracing the buckle with your nails, then pulling slightly at the dark leather. 

“But then I’d have to put you on watchtower too so I could keep you right next to me.”

His lips were close now, his knee started to nudge your own, settling in against you. 

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” you were almost out of breath. The way his hands were running up and down your sides, threatening to take your dress off. It made your head all foggy. The way it usually did. You could feel your eyes fluttering shut at his touch, daring him to take you, right there in the library of the prison. 

His lips pressed to yours and your hands snaked around his neck, pulling him in even closer. He added more pressure on his thigh between your legs, letting a quiet moan leave your mouth. Almost grinding down on his leg. 

He lifted your dress, and his hands pulled at your thighs, dragging you up onto him. Wedged between him and the wall, you wrapped your legs around him, and his hands went straight to your ass. Lips still moving against yours. He noticed the strap of your dress had fallen, and his attention moved to your exposed neck and shoulder. Attacking you with sweet, wet kisses. The stubble on his face tickled your sensitive skin. 

“I really like this dress,” he repeated against your skin, hands now toying with your panties, under your dress. Ready to strip you of them. 

“Rick…” you whispered, arching into his touch. 

“Mmm, you smell so good,” he kissed your neck again. 

“…Taste so good,” Another kiss. The feeling of his bulge against you was driving you insane. And his teasing remarks didn’t help either. 

“Please… “ another whimper escaped your lips. 

He let out a dry laugh against your skin and moved the two of you over to the table, sitting you down, but still pressed in between your legs. You started at his belt. His eyes closed as he let your foreheads come together. Savoring the feeling of your hands, pushing the fabric down. Just enough to take him in your hands. Pumping a few times. 

A little groan escaped him and you decided to do a little more. For your perfect leader. He deserved to relax. He never failed to make you feel good. So it was time to return the favor. You slipped off the table, down to your knees, and took him in your mouth. As soon as he felt your tongue on his shaft, his hands were in your hair, and a swear under his breath. 

“Fuck,”

You sucked and licked, still pumping with your hand as he guided your head back and forth, creating a rhythm. After a few moments, you looked up at him through your eyelashes and he swore. 

“You look so pretty like this...” he groaned again. 

You kept your pace up, eyes starting to water as he involuntarily bucked his hips further down your throat. He was already close. 

“C’mhere sweet girl,” he tugged gently on your hair, pulling you off of him. You go to stand up and he turns you around, so that he was pressed against your ass, and you were pressed against the table. 

His mouth found your shoulder blade and he ripped your panties off in one fluid motion. Earning a pained squeak from yourself. He chuckled against your skin while stuffing the lacy item in his back pocket. Anyone could walk in. But that was part of the fun. You heard him tear open a condom and roll it on behind you. His kisses scattered your shoulder and neck as he lined himself up, rubbing his tip against your wet entrance. Teasing you. Always fucking teasing. 

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered. 

“Rick…”

“I wanna hear it.” You were throbbing at this point. Hot and bothered. No other way to put it. It had been way too long since you'd had him alone. 

“Come on,” you whined.

“Just say it,” another kiss on your neck as he pushes the tip in only. 

“Please Rick, god,” you arched back into him. Hoping for more. He chuckled and you sighed. 

“Just fuck me. Please I need you so bad it h-“ you started to give in but he shut you up quickly. He pushed himself into you all at once. Making you gasp a little. That earned another laugh into your skin. His body was fully pressed up against yours. Your dress lifted and bunched up above your ass, with his hands pulling at your hips, urging you onto him. 

He gave you a moment to adjust before he started to pound into you, over and over. 

A palm on your back pushed you down slightly, bending you over, hands catching on the table. Rick continued his rough pace, effortlessly earning repetitive moans and praise from you. His thumbs dug into the dimples on your back as he fucked you hard. 

Right when you thought you were close, an arm wrapped around your torso, and pulled you up against his chest. He started pounding into you even harder. You couldn’t even help the whimper that left you. Being held by him, forearm pressed against your breasts, pulling you into his warmth. It made you weak.

“You have no idea,” his breath was shaky in your ear, “what you do to me,”

Everywhere that your body was touching his, was on fire. Not even being able to concentrate on his words as he pounded into you. Your own hand coming up to stop yourself from screaming out loud. The other one clawed at his forearm. 

You came undone and your core began to shake, but he didn’t let up, instead lifting the back of your knee up, propping your leg against the table, deepening his angle even more. Your orgasm never even stopped as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He continued to fuck you into the table, his hands grabbing roughly at your skin, leaving marks for him to kiss and trace later in bed. 

Finally you felt his hips stutter and in a few slow thrusts, the arm wrapped around you had moved to your face. Grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look back at him as his lips caught yours.

“Fuck.” He gently let your leg back down, now shaky. He tossed the condom in the trash, tucked himself back in his jeans, and started buckling up his belt. You turned around and leaned against the table, facing him. Catching your breath. He came up close and pressed against you once more. His hands went straight to your face and he kissed you again. For a long moment he didn't let you stop. Tongue tracing your lips, hands still holding you close. You grasped at the collar of his shirt. Letting him know how badly you will always need him. 

When you both stopped to catch your breath he didn't leave your space. Instead, he ran his hands down your dress. Smoothing it out. Pulling it down and adjusting it. Then he moved on to your hair, smoothing it down and tucking a strand behind your ears. 

He looked at you and opened his mouth as if he wanted to tell you something. But your attention broke away to look at the doorway.

There were footsteps from down the hall. With an annoyed sigh Rick moved out of your space and grabbed the book off the shelf. Handing it to you just as the door opened. 

“Oh sorry! Um…” Carol looked at the two of you. Rick's shirt untucked. You adjusting the strap that had fallen off your shoulder. And remembering quickly that you weren’t wearing any panties. Not that anyone would be able to tell. Other than that, you were both dressed. Presentable even. 

“I need to have a word with you,” she directed at Rick. 

“What’s up?”

She kept looking at him but didn’t answer. After an awkward moment of silence you spoke up,

“I’m gonna go… find Daryl,” you wave your book at the doorway. “Did you happen to see him?” an attempt at escaping in the least awkward way possible. It was clear you weren’t invited into this conversation. 

She gave you a sweet smile. “He’s in the yard, sitting around the fire,” 

“Thanks,” you smile back, heading for the hallway, looking back only for a moment, you could feel Rick's gaze still on you. 

“What the hell are you doing ?” You could hear Carol ask him when she thought you could no longer hear. But the rest was too quiet and you were now too far to eavesdrop. Not that you would anyway. Still, it left you a little curious on what was such a secret.

-------------------------

Later that night Rick climbed into your bed, snaking an arm around you. You nestled into him quickly. 

“You smell like smoke,” he whispered. 

“You missed a good fire,” you replied. 

For a moment you laid there. His thumb rubbing circles on your skin. 

“What did Carol have to talk to you about?”

“Oh nothing. Just uh… council stuff.”

“Oh.” you wanted to know what he told her. What his reason for you being together in the library was. 

“I didn’t lie to her,” like he could read your mind, he answered. “I didn’t tell her the whole truth but…”

“-she knows,” you finished for him. 

He nodded from behind you. Pulling you in even closer. 

“You’re not a secret,” his voice was so quiet. “Just so you know.”

His hand made its way between your legs, underneath your pj shorts, and you bit your lip so as not to make a sound. 

“You’re so perfect,” his lips were on your neck, right behind your ear. “Everything I'll ever need,” Fingers rubbing your clit over your panties. In all truth, you didn’t care if whatever you two were doing was or wasn’t a secret. That didn't matter to you. All you cared was that he would never stop touching you and whispering those sweet, sweet nothings in your ear.

[lowkeycasanova]

Waiting on you

based off "When you're ready" by Shawn Mendes

--

"I was selfish for being with him. I was in a really bad place and it started to affect my, our, relationship. So I took a step back. Vinnie waited for me, as he always promised. We came back when we were both ready."

--

He probably had one too many drinks, but fuck it. It was what he needed right now.

Everyone sat around the fire pit, talking, laughing, playing the guitar a little bit. A way to celebrate the purchase of the new house, it was like a small house warming party with all of them together. Jett found out that you were going to be in the area for the first time in forever, so he invited you last second. Vinnie didn’t even know you were going to be here until he saw Jett greeting you at the front door a few hours prior.

When your eyes met and he saw the gentle glow from the fire illuminate your face, it was a solid reminder that you were in fact sitting across from him.

You were able to see Jack and Jett again, along with his girlfriend, and you got to meet their new friends Adam, Max, Max’s girlfriend Maykayla and her friend Taylor.

The night continued into early morning as you caught up with the people you knew and got to know the ones you didn’t. Even finding yourself looking at Vinnie from time to time.

Jack then announced that he was tired and would he going inside. One by one, everyone else went after him. You lagged behind picking up the drink glasses and other items. Although you really didn’t need to since you were the guest, but you didn’t mind.

After picking them up and setting them down in the kitchen, you wiped your hands on your pants.

“I wish I’d known you were gonna be here.”

Your body went stiff and you looked over and saw Vinnie standing in the doorway, seemingly hesitant like he didn’t want to walk in, until he did, taking a deep breath.

“I assumed Jett was going to tell you.” You replied.

Vinnie nodded understandingly and walked up to the kitchen island where he stood across from you. You two stared at each other for a moment. It’s really something how much people can change in Beale two years.

“How have you been?” He finally asked.

“Good. School’s been school. What about you. I heard about you joining one hundred thieves a while ago.”

“It’s pretty fun. We’re actually filming something in a couple days.”

You nodded and crossed your arms over your chest, like that was gonna stop your heart from beating fast. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” He whispered. “Sorry for the way it ended.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” You told him and he ran a hand through his hair nervously.

—

The last time you saw Vinnie was over a year and a half ago. You had met Vinnie through mutual friends, and you two were closest out of everyone.

It was more than a summer time fling. With you and Vinnie in close proximity all day and doing nearly everything together, it's like it solidified the interest you felt in one another.

Strange, because you both had told yourselves previously that you didn't want a relationship at the moment. Although you never told each other that.

It was when you went back home to Brooklyn when things started to fall apart.

How naïve of you two to think that the long distance thing would work.

Not only the distance and time zone difference, but you were both becoming busier with your respective schedules: you with school and him with social media, gaming and modeling.

Texting and facetiming everyday made it more bearable. You couldn't visit LA that much because of how demanding your school schedule was, so Vinnie came to New York as often as he could. But it wasn't the same. Mentally and emotionally, you didn't think you could do it, and that killed you. You couldn't be a good girlfriend to him right now.

"I wanna be with you, but I don't wanna hurt you." you had told him the last time he came to see you.

The tears in his eyes broke the surface and they ran down his face silently. He sniffed and looked up in an attempt to keep the tears at bay.

"You know I love you." he whispered. "I flew to New York to get you back and I'd do it again."

He thought about that day often. He was confused, and sometimes angry. That maybe you were lying to him. That you were just trying to not hurt his feelings, but you'd get with someone else soon after.

But deep down, he knew you better than that.

--

In the following time after you officially parted ways, you saw so much of Vinnie's success online. How much he's done. He was even in New York just a couple weeks ago. Yes, you were a little disappointed at first that he didn't reach out, but you understood why he didn't. It wouldn't have been fair to either of you. And now you were right in front of him, but you didn't want to throw yourself at him in any way.

Your whole body seemed to be vibrating with energy.

"So..." he started. "You in a relationship or anything?"

You shook your head no and looked down. "You?"

"No," he mumbled and looked out to the darkness through the kitchen window. You don't know how you would feel if Vinnie were to have feelings strong enough to be with someone else. But you weren't in a place to judge.

You cleared your throat. "Well, what about Taylor?" you suggested, referring to Makayla's friend. "She seems interested in you."

By the look on his face, you knew it was a ridiculous proposition.

"Not at all." he said quickly. "I mean, she comes over a lot. And, we didn't sleep together or anything...but we made out heavily once."

Your eyes widened. "Why would you mess with her?”

Vinnie scoffed. "I told her from the jump I wasn't into her like that. But she's actually good at getting us drunk."

He came closer next to you, close enough to where your arms touched and he crossed his arms over his chest.

You tsked and turned from him, fiddling with the glasses. He took one and dried it off for you.

“I got it.”

He shrugged. “It’s my house. It’s the least I could do.”

"Maybe you could work it out with her." You said, going back to the previous subject. "Have you ever thought about-"

"No." he cut you off.

"But I mean-"

"What?" he asked as his eyes burned into yours. "You think I wanna settle? Just be in a relationship since it's better than nothing?"

"Well in general, if you like someone, don't let our past hold you back."

"Hold me back? That's exactly what I wanted. You told me that you couldn't be with me because of where we were at the time. So I waited. I figured one day we would both be ready to come back together. I didn't wanna be with someone else because it was 'good enough' at the time."

The kitchen lights then turned on rather suddenly, you and Vinnie both blinking to adjust to the harsh light.

Jett stood at the entryway, staring back at you both.

"It's late." Jett simply stated, but his facial features let you know that he was about to ask more questions.

"Yeah it is." you agreed before he could say anything else. You glanced at Vinnie briefly before walking away, and you heard his footsteps behind you.

And knowing Vinnie, he'd be knocking on your door to finish this conversation.

[kashmiresims]

Hi Charmful, I really love your amazing neighborhood! It is fantastic to see the passion you've put in this project for about 17 (!) years! What advice would you give to someone who wishes to start their own custom hood with many subhoods and stories, like yours? What are in your opinions some do's and don'ts (be it about technicalities, gameplay or even mindset)? Thanks in advance and I apologise if this question has already been asked :)

No! You are completely fine, I appreciate the question. Very few ever ask me questions on my tumblr anyhow. I just go around giving this advice every so often when I see it asked about how to start custom hoods on the big TS2 Facebook Group or the Sims 2 Subreddit, haha! So, going into your own hood/subhoods project sounds really daunting and it's not a feat for the impatient or those that have a penchant for serial restarting playstyle. 1. Grow it organically. If that seems too loose of a perimeter for someone, they can always use a structured BACC as a springboard. One of my favorite TS2 Twitch streamers, ChocolatCitySim has built her amazing custom hood and subhoods up from a BACC. Here is an album of my hoods and subhoods showing them in 2015 and 2022 and the progress it made and even at present they look different than they did in 2022. 2. Create a solid set of sims or families you want to be the foundation population. They could be founders, you could have a headcanon of why they moved to town, or how they fit into the lore of your custom hood. These sims you will play for a long time, hopefully enough to see their children's children and such. My best advice is aim for 5-8 families and then sprinkle in some YAs (if you add a Uni right off) and single adults that are ready to mingle. Add new families and sims as you progress and as needed to grow your population. 3. Don't be afraid! Why is this important? Because Kashmire wouldn't be what it is today if I had panicked at every glitch, accident, or unintended situation that cropped up. It has actually enhanced my hood lore as the years have gone by. It makes for a unique story twist or quirk when something happens and you have to interpret or explain it away into a narrative or hood canon. Don't be afraid to start playing before the hood is 'done'; spoiler alert: a custom hood is never 'done' it might have a good few years stretch of you not updating anything in it until you need it but if you are like me and get the urge to go ham on hood deco after 14 or so years, it's gonna always be in flux! Obsessing with getting a custom hood 'done' before playing it is the quickest way to burn out and abandon your goal. Also, don't be afraid to completely chuck stuff you have downloaded or built and are not feeling anymore. Or re-arranging entire sections of your hood. In real life, civilizations grow and change and seeing that progress in your own neighborhood can be rewarding! You can even send sims you aren't feeling anymore off to another place, or make them townies, or kill them off. I've never played in strict rotation, I've lost sims to glitches, and I've bulldozed more than half my original builds to try and build or download something better.

4. Back to the building of it, I wish I had done it sooner but it's helpful to kind of know what zones of your hood are. Commercial vs Residential, vs greenspace use. Use hood deco to build up parts to make it look busier if you are going for a more urban hood or subhood but don't have a lot of playable lots yet. If you aren't a builder, download lots, there are so many good ones out there! On the same note of building, try to have your basic necessity community lots in every subhood so the sim doesn't have to travel through 2 screens to get a cup of coffee or go to a gym, but you can vary those community lots unless you want to simulate a 'chain' (a chain of restaurants, gyms, coffee shops). Then, try to also have some unique places in each subhood. Places your sims might want to go to impress a date, or dancing with friends, fill a want that comes up less often. I could wax poetic about all the different lots around Kashmire but to not exceed a response character count, I shant. 5. A subtle thing you can do is develop an identity for your different areas/subhoods. You can do this with themes, flora, deco, and even the sims that live there. 6. Let the stories come naturally and retcon what doesn't work anymore. After playing for so many years in Kashmire, stories develop in a variety of ways--most have developed through the gameplay aspect itself mixed with being inspired by lots or poseboxes or just fun scenarios I want to try to play and execute. If you don't have a stellar memory like I do (which is how I keep everything in order) document your play through notes and pics! Even just putting up little blurbs on your tumblr with a few pics can help you start a narrative and then use it to go back to reference. If not here, any blogging site, a forum, or any other place you can post will do! 7. Be choosy with your cc. Things will come along you will WANT but do you really NEED it? This is a good rule of thumb for any Sims 2 player honestly. 8. MAKE BACK UPS. CONSISTENTLY MAKE BACK UPS OF YOUR HOOD AND GAME. RELIGIOUSLY STORE THEM SOMEPLACE SAFE because your heart will break if one day your SSD melts and all your backups were on it and you don't have an amazing computer wizard husband to save your custom hood's ass. People always ask me 'How have you played the same Sims 2 neighborhood for 17 years?!' and my answer: BACK UPS. That's all I can think of off the top of my mind. Thanks for the question and good luck on your Sims 2 custom hood journey!

[erikahammerschmidt]

So here's a my hot take about "social anxiety," and "being afraid to ask others for help."

After years and years of personal growth, I still get people treating my "aversion to asking for things" as some internal problem with my brain.

But let me tell you one thing.

You might be able to conquer any nagging sense that you "don't deserve" help from others. Then you might go on to vanquish any exaggerated idea of how much harm or trouble or inconvenience your request would cause someone else. And after that, you could totally wipe out any excess of anxiety about how angry someone else might be at you for asking.

But all this WILL NOT CHANGE the fact that:

Other people have lives of their own

Your requests usually are not (and should not be!) another person's first priority

People cannot be expected to have perfect memories and keep your request in their minds all the time

And therefore, if you have any ability to do a thing for yourself-- even something far outside both your skillset and your responsibilities-- even if it's very difficult to do on your own-- it's still very often MUCH EASIER than trying to get another person to do it for you.

Example:

I mention a project I want to do. I think I can do it with just a saw and hammer and nails that I already have. But my roommate, who has more woodworking equipment and more experience than me, says he'll help.

I say thanks, and ask him when. He says "well, I can't today, maybe Saturday?" So I wait til Saturday. At which point he's forgotten and planned something else, so he can't that day. Is Wednesday afternoon okay?

Sure (I put notes all over the apartment to make sure he doesn't forget this time). And he doesn't forget-- but he has to cancel anyway because the dog unexpectedly has to go to the vet that day. We reschedule for Friday. We get started on the project… at which point he suddenly concludes that we actually need a part that we don't have right now, and he'll have to buy it. That'll take a few days at least, so we have to reschedule again.

And now his schedule's busier than he thought, and he doesn't know when's the next time he'll be available. He says he'll let me know when. But weeks and weeks go by, and he doesn't. If I remind him, either he'll reassure me that he promised to tell me if he has any free time, and he's still gonna let me know when, I just have to be patient… OR he'll apologize for forgetting, and reassure me that he'll remember to tell me NEXT time he has a free afternoon.

Maybe a couple times he does message me, with less than an hour to spare, to give me a heads up that he's free now. But of course, on such short notice, I myself can't always arrange to be free-- and if he does this enough times and gets a "no" from me each time, he'll start feeling it's no longer worth trying and he'll stop.

At this point, my entire self wishes that I'd just done the project on my own, with my own inferior skills and whatever equipment I could scrounge up myself. It wouldn't be as good, maybe. But even if I had to try a few times to make it passably okay, then at least I would have learned something-- and in any case, it would be DONE now. I wouldn't be sitting here waiting, dependent on someone who does not have my project anywhere NEAR the top of his priorities.

Same goes for asking for something back that someone's borrowed from me. (Assuming my time is worth minimum wage, it's usually cheaper just to buy a new one.)

Same goes for asking my boss for an accommodation that would really help but I can sorta get by without. (I've seen coworkers having to remind management repeatedly about accommodations they get. It's almost a whole second job.)

Same goes for the colored pencils I just ordered while staying at my mom's house, upon which she reminded me that I really should have asked her first, because there are "tons" of art supplies in the house already. (Sure-- but how soon can you be available to look for them? And once looking, how quickly could you find them? And if they aren't quite what I was looking for, but you "feel certain" that the thing I was looking for "is also around here somewhere," then how many days should I give you to remember where it is? And how many times during those days should I check in with you, just to see if you actually still remember my request and are actually still trying to find it?)

In my experience, more often than not, asking another person for something (no matter how well-meaning they are) will put them in a position of oblivious, incompetently wielded power over me, long before they even begin to grant my request.

And in my experience, more often than not, that is a fate to be avoided if at all possible-- by any means-- up to and including doing things for myself that I "shouldn't have to do."

And no amount of therapy and self-help on my own brain is gonna change that.

[skepticalfrogcat]

Here you all go, the happy part 3 you all were promised.

And I know that for the last part it was just a suggestion to read the previous part, but for this one I'm going to go ahead and say you have to have read the previous part in this series in order for major scenes in this fic to make any sense to you. You have been warned!

(Also I was told that I should tag @choicesficwriterscreations ! Thank you to @lovehugsandcandy for telling me this!)

Relationship: Finch Parnassus (MC) x Aerin Valleros

Warnings: Minor angst. With a happy ending I promise! And as I said in a post I made a while back, it's mostly very soft emotional stuff, nothing too serious.

Word Count: 3,007

Summary: Finch and Aerin take a trip to Riverbend.

Since the end of the battle with the Ash Empress, and the decision to keep the portals open, Finch had been busier than ever. It seemed as though everyone was competing to get him to pay attention to their personal gripes and grievances, and he only had the time and energy for so many of them. Most of the time he ended up directing them to someone who could actually help, because his reputation often gave people the false idea that he had endless talents, which simply wasn't true. Often, there was no way he could properly accomplish the tasks they gave to him.

Luckily, he'd been spending most of his time with the goblins in the Whimsywood, which was far enough away from the bustling environment of Whitetower for his liking. Evidently, and a bit to his surprise, he had a much higher tolerance for handling people's requests when he was in the middle of the woods. Of course, that wasn't the only part of living in the Whimsywood that he was especially fond of.

He'd moved into one of the houses that had already been built into the trees. It was a more permanent residence, more than his room in the castle had been at least, and he was content with it. Truthfully, he would've been happy to start living anywhere, given that he'd be living with Aerin. It had been proven to him time and time again that he could find happiness anywhere they could be together.

After they'd settled in, they actually hadn't had time to do much other than help rebuild. There wasn't much destruction, and Finch was grateful every day that he'd made the right choices in order to keep it that way. Most of what he'd been doing was diplomacy, sorting out conflicts between people passing between realms. It did settle down after a while, though. The hectic nature of his environment persisted for a few weeks at the most, and after that it was over. Everything became sort of… normal. He hadn't experienced that in kind of a long time, longer than he'd realized. He wanted to take advantage of it while he could, because he knew that eventually something would arrive to stir things up again.

And so, Finch and Aerin had decided to take a trip. Not a big or extravagant one, but a well-needed one nonetheless. It was kind of like a little vacation. Finch had realized that Aerin had never actually been to Riverbend, which he knew needed to be rectified. The destination was agreed upon very quickly, partially because it would provide the relatively stress-free break that they both needed, but Finch knew it was also because Aerin had been able to tell how important it was to him.

The trip from the freshly revived Whimsywood all the way to Riverbend had been a long one. Finch loved visiting home, he did, he simply wished that his Realmwalking abilities provided some method of faster travel. He was sure they might, to someone older or more experienced, but for the time being he was stuck traveling mainly on foot. Besides, he wasn't entirely confident that he'd be able to bring anyone else with him that way anyway, which happened to be fairly necessary for this trip.

Given how tiring it had been to make it to the town, all they'd really been able to do on their first day there was sleep. Kade was still working in Whitetower, but the place they'd lived in together was still available to them whenever they wanted it. That was one upside to having grown up in such a small village: it was almost like everyone was family. Even if he weren't the Savior of the Realm - which would never stop being strange to hear - he was sure he and Kade would still have their room above the local tavern, because that was how things worked in Riverbend. People always did favors for each other.

The second day in Riverbend, though, they were actually able to explore a bit. They went to the river, the town's namesake, where Aerin had been able to do some drawing while Finch chatted away beside him. After that, they'd gone to a couple of Finch's personal favorite places, like a bakery he and Kade had been going to since they were kids, and a really old archery range someone had set up in the woods where Finch had practiced with a rudimentary bow in his younger teen years.

By the time evening was rolling around, they'd made their way back to the tavern. Their plan had originally been to retire back upstairs, but the tavern was much more populated by then, and naturally there were demands for the two of them to stay for a round.

“Why don't you tell us something, Finch?” One patron suggested, gesturing with the pint in his hand as he spoke.

“Ah, you all know I'm no good at it,” Finch waved him off. “Just wait for Kade to come back around, I'm sure he'll have something great for you when he does.”

“Come on, just one new story, and then we'll leave you be,” a girl standing nearby attempted to barter. “Why don't you tell us about… a beast you fought?” she suggested.

“I'm sure Kade's told you all about those a million times over, because I'd bet all of you that you've done this exact thing to him before.”

“We don't have to bug him, he just does it!” Someone called out from the back of the bar. Everyone laughed, and it did make Finch wish his brother were here, but he knew they'd be back in Riverbend together eventually.

Finch leaned over to speak to Aerin, lowering his voice so only he could hear. “What do you think? Should I throw them a bone?”

“Personally, I'd really like to hear which one of your escapades you think is entertaining enough to please a room full of mildly drunk people,” Aerin muttered back. “Especially with the way you tell stories.”

Finch laughed, bumping his shoulder against Aerin's. “Don't pretend you don't listen to them every time.”

“Go ahead then.” Aerin gestured to the rest of the room with a nod of his head. “Prove me wrong.”

Aerin had always been quite good at getting Finch to do practically anything. Finch left his spot leaning against the wall and went to take up an empty stool along the bar, which was more central to the room. Then he started telling the story. He'd chosen to tell them about the time he and Mal had met a mermaid near the Shimmering Isles, because he knew that one had a good enough balance of action and glamor to hold just about everyone's attention, no matter what sort of story they favored.

Truthfully, he was a rather terrible storyteller. Kade could tell a story as if it were happening in real time, always getting the details just right with perfect timing and impeccable vocabulary. Meanwhile, Finch frequently had to backtrack to include details he'd forgotten to mention, and he often forgot what he had and hadn't already said. He was lucky he at least had charisma. Even still, every time he'd glance over at Aerin, he'd be looking back, intently listening as he always did.

When he finished the story, a few people did request another, but that time Finch was adamant about his refusal. It was already further into the night than he'd been planning on staying out. He did receive a few playful jabs about the fact that he was turning in early, but he'd been expecting them. Most of the patrons of the tavern had a slightly warped view of what ‘early’ meant anyway.

So he and Aerin went upstairs, back to the room they were staying in. It wasn't very large, and it was barely furnished. All that was really in the room was a small, tattered rug on the ground, a nightstand with a single lamp on top of it, and the two beds he and Kade had slept in since they were much younger. But, despite the fact that he'd lived in much more lavish places since leaving Riverbend, Finch still thought of this room as home. Aerin didn't seem to mind it either. Finch knew he'd never been suited to the extravagance of the castle.

“Do they ask you to do that a lot?” Aerin asked, already in bed after having gotten ready.

“What, tell stories? No, not usually.” Finch pulled his shirt off over his head and put on the pajama pants he'd brought. “I'd say I'm pretty low on the list, even without Kade here. Honestly I think it's just because you were there.”

“What do you mean?” Aerin moved over on the bed a bit as Finch settled in beside him. It was really only meant for one person, but that didn't matter. Even though they'd never discussed it, Finch had a feeling that Aerin didn't like sleeping alone. Not after all those nights in the cell. “Were they trying to make you seem impressive or something?”

“No, not quite,” Finch laughed. “If anything, they were trying to get me to make a fool of myself in front of you. Kind of like what Mal does to Tyril all the time. Luckily, you love me too much to be embarrassed of me, even if I am a terrible storyteller.” He gave Aerin an exaggerated kiss on the cheek.

Aerin held back a smile and reached over to turn off the lamp, making the only light in the room the moonlight coming in through the window on the wall above the bed. “We've both done stupid things in front of each other enough times that it doesn't matter anymore.”

“It's probably best that we don't keep count.”

Finch closed his eyes as peaceful silence fell over the room. He was lying with his cheek resting on Aerin's shoulder, his forehead pressed lightly against the side of his neck. His hand laid flat on Aerin's chest, and if he focused on it, he could feel the indent about the size of his palm where Aerin's scar was.

He'd only ever seen the Nerada Stone once, but he remembered it vividly. He could still recall the precise details of how it had looked, and the terror it had brought on when he'd seen it. He still didn't know what had caused Aerin to decide to take it out, in the end. Finch couldn't imagine what someone would have to feel to put themselves through that kind of pain. At times he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

“Finch,” he heard Aerin whisper, bringing him out of his thoughts.

“Hm?” he hummed in response. He felt Aerin's hand cover his own.

“You were doing that thing again.”

It wasn't the first time he'd done it. Every so often, when he got really wrapped up in thinking about the stone, he would start gently tracing the outline of the scar with his fingertips. He never knew he was doing it until Aerin inevitably pointed it out to him.

“Sorry. I didn't notice.”

“It's okay. I don't mind it. I just want to remind you that you don't have to worry about what I can tell you're worrying about right now.”

“I know, I know, it's just…” Finch shifted in place, propping himself up slightly with his elbow on the mattress so he could see Aerin's face. He had a habit of wanting to be able to look at Aerin when he started talking about something he was deeply invested in. He did it with everyone, but especially Aerin. “I wish there was something I could've done. I'm sure we could've found some other way, if I had known that was what you were trying to do.”

“You not being there didn't have anything to do with what I did. I didn't even know you were gone. Your friends stopped visiting eventually, and no one else seemed to think I should know. So my point is, even if you had still been around, I probably would've done the same thing.” Aerin lifted his hand to run it slowly through Finch's hair a couple times, and Finch leaned into the touch.

“I guess I just want to know why. That's the one part of it I've never been able to figure out,” Finch admitted. “And you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to, but…”

“Do you think it would help?” Aerin's brow furrowed. “Because I don't want to do anything that would hurt you. And don't say it would help just because you want to know.”

Finch considered it for a moment. “I think that… I'd probably think about it a lot at first. But knowing would definitely make it easier to come to terms with.”

Aerin took a deep breath, and sighed it out. “Okay. The truth is…” He looked away, into the wider room, almost as if he was embarrassed. “I decided to take the stone out after you came to see me. All it took was that one time, and I... I knew it wasn't worth it anymore.”

Finch's eyes grew distant as the memories of that night came back to him. He'd forgotten. So much had happened since then that he'd completely forgotten it. That was a terrible thing to have forgotten, what kind of an idiot forgot about something like that? He remembered it now, of course, but he had no idea how it had ever slipped his mind in the first place.

“Hey.” Aerin tapped gently on Finch's cheek with his knuckle, the way someone might knock on a door if they suspected someone was asleep on the other side. “You're beating yourself up over something right now. Tell me what it is, so I can help. I'm not just letting you sit here and stew in whatever you're thinking about.”

It took Finch another few moments to say anything in response, but Aerin allowed him to work through it for as long as he needed to. “I really shouldn't have done that to you,” he muttered. It wasn't exactly what he'd been thinking about, but it was what those thoughts had led him to. “Not the visit, but the fact that I just left. I got scared and I ran, I didn't even try to talk to you about it. I was a real jerk for that, wasn't I.”

“I… can admit that it's not my favorite thing you've ever done. But I've forgiven you by now, which means you should forgive yourself too, because honestly it was probably the best thing you could've done.” Aerin placed both of his hands on Finch's cheeks. “If you hadn't come to see me, and you hadn't done what you did, we probably wouldn't be here right now.”

“I still think I could've handled things better. I didn't think it through. Any of it. Even just a little more planning would've stopped it from going so poorly.”

“Finch, it didn't go poorly,” Aerin insisted. “Maybe in the moment it did, sure. But seeing you that night, talking to you, the way you kissed me, it all reminded me how much I needed you. Then you left, and I realized that before I could get that life back, I needed to become a better person again. I couldn't go on the way I was if I ever wanted to have something good again. That was why I took out the stone.”

“But it must've hurt you,” Finch shook his head, still catching up with everything Aerin was telling him. “To take it out, I mean.”

“Of course it did. It hurt me to have it, too,” Aerin reminded him. Finch did remember that, from when he'd first seen the stone. “But I was betting on the hope that those last few minutes of pain would pay off with more happiness than I knew what to do with. It was either that, or keep hurting other people for the rest of my life. I didn't know what would happen, but I knew I had to try.”

“And… did it work?” Finch asked, speaking hesitantly.

“Yes,” Aerin nodded, possibly sounding more certain than Finch had ever heard him before. He lifted his head a bit and gently brought Finch down to meet him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I'd say that it did.”

A small smile crossed Finch's face, which almost always happened when Aerin kissed him. “Good.” He settled back into his place on the bed, lying down the way he'd been before. He felt Aerin's arms wrap around him, warm and familiar against his skin.

He was finally satisfied with the knowledge he had. He hadn't wanted to push too hard on the matter of Aerin’s scar and how he'd gotten it, because he knew that at times the idea of it upset both of them. It was a big sore spot that neither of them wanted to get close to. But he'd always known they'd have to talk about it at some point, and if it was going to happen somehow, he believed this was one of the best ways it could've been. The room felt much more peaceful then. His thoughts weren't quite so loud anymore. Well, aside from one of them.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” Aerin replied, as Finch knew he would.

Finch was well aware that there would be more problems for him to fix eventually, whether it was a simple favor for a friendly stranger or a new foe for him to save the world from. It seemed unavoidable at that point. But right now, he was safe at home, in bed next to the best, smartest, most breathtaking person he'd ever known. There wasn't anywhere else he'd rather be. Things were difficult at times, and would be again. But for the moment, all was well in the world.

[stargazer-sims]

Subtlety

Eden: Cute sweater.

Haru: Thanks. It's my grandmother's.

Eden: You took your grandmother’s sweater?

Haru: Yeah, but she knows I have it. I like wearing it because it makes me feel close to her when I’m not with her. Weird, I know, but sometimes I just want to go home when I know I can’t, and this helps a little.

Eden: I don’t think it’s weird. It kinda makes me wish I’d brought something of my parents’ with me. I’m a lot farther away from home than you are, and I don’t know when I’m going to see my family next.

Haru: Oh. Sorry.

Eden: No, it’s okay. I knew it’d be like this when Charlie and I left. And I’m glad you can still see your family often, even if it’s not as often as you’d like.

Haru: If I had my way, I’d still be living with them. But, actually, if we're talking about literally seeing them, there's always video chats, and I can see my grandfather every evening during the week if I want to. Not in person, but I can watch him on TV.

Eden: Your grandfather is on TV?

Haru: Yeah. You’ve probably seen him too, if you ever watch the news on NHK.

Eden: Wait… Abe Sakuma, right? Same family name as you. I’ve seen him before, but I never made the connection.

Haru: You wouldn’t have any reason to until now.

Eden: So, your grandfather is famous too. No wonder you’re so comfortable with the spotlight. It’s kind of normal for you, isn’t it?

Haru: I guess you could say that. My grandmother says we’re both show-offs. I like to think of it as charisma and like, a talent for drawing attention to ourselves.

Eden: Some people might argue that consistently drawing attention to yourself isn’t a good thing.

Haru: Only if it’s the wrong kind of attention. Like, let’s say you’re trying to get attention from a cute boy. It’s not bad then, right?

Eden: Subtlety’s not one of your strengths, is it?

Haru: I don’t need subtlety. I’m sexy, rich and famous.

Eden: *laughing*

Haru: *yawning* I don’t know about you, but soaking in the bath made me sleepy.

Eden: As I was saying about your lack of subtlety…

Haru: Yeah, but sexy, rich and famous, remember?

Eden: Are you really sleepy?

Haru: Not really. I just want to cuddle.

Eden: You should’ve said so in the first place.

Haru: But, wouldn’t that be a complete lack of subtlety? Wouldn’t you prefer me to try, at least?

Eden: Your attempts are adorable, even if they’re hilarious, so yeah. I guess I would.

Haru: Adorable. Can you say that again, please?

Eden: You’re adorable, Haru.

Haru: Thank you. I already love hearing that from you.

Eden: I wonder where everyone else is? We haven’t seen anyone since we finished eating and said we were going to the bath.

Haru: Do you want them around? I’m fine with being alone with you.

Eden: I’m happy to be alone with you too. I just thought it’d be… I don’t know. Busier around here.

Haru: Usually it is. Senjirō and Keigo are probably sulking in their room now, and I’ll bet Ryu is hiding out somewhere with Ji-Soo, doing exactly what we’re doing.

Eden: I didn’t realize Ji-Soo lives here with you.

Haru: She doesn’t. She and her brother have a place in town. She’s only here because you’re here. Not that Ryu’s complaining, I’ll bet.

Eden: So, Ji-Soo and Ryu are a thing? Is that allowed?

Haru: It’s not really allowed, but even if they’re not confessing it, they definitely are a thing. If you ask me though, I think they should just say something, ‘cause it’s like the worst-kept secret of all time anyway.

Eden: What would happen if they did officially get together?

Haru: Ji-Soo would probably lose her job. I mean, think of it like getting into a relationship with somebody you essentially work for. Like a nurse hooking up with a patient or something.

Eden: Yeah, I can see how that’d be a problem. But like, if that were you, wouldn’t you ask yourself if your job is more important than the person you love?

Haru: Yeah, I would. I love what I’m doing now, and it’s really important to me, but if I had to choose between this and a person I loved, you know what? I’d give all of this up in a heartbeat.

Eden: Hopefully it’ll never come to that. I hope you get to have it all.

Haru: If I’m lucky, and things keep going the way they’re going, maybe I will.

[hobbit-in-kuroshitsuji]

Kuroshitcember 2022 Prompt Nr. 9

Prompt: Listen to Stolas Sings by Sam Haft. What do you think this could represent?

You can find all prompts here!

All of these will be uploaded/archived to this blog's Ao3 eventually

Summary: On Grelle's Death Day, she thinks everything is fine and goes to work (to see William). Turns out, everything is not fine after all, but William is there to help her... CW: There's some implied Grelliam if you squint? I mean, would William touch another person if he didn't love them? but that could also be family, so read it however you like <3 this has mentions of suicide, death, murder - please only read if you feel you can mentally <3

this is heavily inspired by my own HCs on reapers which you can read up on here. also, I wanted this to be a drabble....... it didn't turn into a drabble XD oh and - the usual "hey I haven't read this through yet, pls don't judge this rough first draft" warnings ahem.....

All the world’s a stage and I’m a player navigating the brutal, bloody battlefield that is love~

The world’s a stage, fake, discerning and bloody. There is no rest for those who seek to portray their souls outwardly; for those who wish to be themselves. There is no comfort. No safety.

So was it truly so strange for Grelle to pretend? For her to make sure she was herself, sand safe, by pretending the entire world was a stage for her to waltz on?

No one took her seriously, yet they also knew she was deadly and capable of chopping anyone to bits if they tried to burst her bubble. But it wasn’t a bubble. It was just… safety through acting.

All that Grelle had gone through had made her sweetness, her innocence, her “oh I’m sorry, sir” attitude disappear. No one dared misgender her now. No one dared touch her now.

But that was also solitary and painful.

Did they believe she was a woman, or did they act along with her to save their own skins? Did they act to save her sanity? Did they think her gender was the act?

Probably… Grelle was convinced that no one understood her acting was to keep herself safe, so people would back the hell off.

She was convinced…

Until one day when William T. Spears showed that their long, long centuries working together meant he knew her and saw through her act.

Until one day when William T. Spears showed that the comfortable lie which Grelle had created of their romantic relationship actually was just that for even William.

“Sutcliff? What are you doing here, you are supposed to be at home.” William’s words came out as a scolding, which considering the subject was a rather odd thing to hear. William never scolded on for working.

But, that day which changed oh so many things about what Grelle though she knew, also happened to be her Death Day.

“I feel not a thing, my dearest,” Grelle offered with a shrug of her shoulder, coincidentally also shrugging her red coat off to reveal more of her shoulder to William.

The man, who’d shut off his emotions in a response to his trauma, caging his centuries old heart off from the rest of the world, ignored her flirting.

As usual.

“And that is healthy, because…?” William sassed, quirking an eyebrow.

Scoffing, Grelle threw a glare William’s way. She stood from her desk and placed hands on her hips. “Mind your words, mister, I am the epitome of mental health – just as anyone!” She pointed at poor Ronald, trying his best to stay out of it by (literally) burying his face into his paperwork. “Knox! Am I not sane?”

Ronald glanced between the two “adults” awkwardly before saying yes with his mouth whilst shaking ‘no’ with his head.

“See!”

“Grelle,” William spoke, voice a soothing calmness in what undoubtedly would become even more of a scene. He never used her name often. So, of course, it shut her up. “We do not work on our Death Days, we stay home and we let it play out. We disrupt the office otherwise-“

“Ugh,” was all Grelle had to say, rolling her eyes. It was always about work with him.

The office suddenly got a lot busier, as a batch of potential new recruits entered with wide eyes. They’d just learned of the reality there were other dimensions outside of heaven and hell. So those wide-eyed looks was the one way to identify new reapers.

“Don’t disrupt the office,” William said to Grelle before turning around to face the baby reapers.

Grelle positioned herself on the desk, watching and listening as William gave a long lecture on safety protocols to the new reapers. No one listened. People just wanted to learn about souls at that stage, and whether they would be allowed to die at some point.

So it was always amusing to watch William attempt to give these lectures.

Othello and Ronald made a quick bet on how long it would take for one of the new recruits to hurt their fingers on the printers no one was allowed to touch save for two who had not broken a printer yet in their entire life – William, and Eric.

And then Grelle joined in with a bet on who would make a comment on “why does the supervisor do all the printing for us if they’re our superiors?” because, quite frankly, it was stupid.

There were no budgets in the afterlife.

Then Grelle was forced to join in. Recruits asked her questions about being out in the field, and she answered them with flat, one word, answers which often were either ‘yes’ or ‘no’ (or ‘next’ when the question was too boring).

Then…

“Mister Sutcliff, sir? Once you reap a soul, do you get a glimpse of wherever they go? Or is it just another weird light like when we-“

“Ma’am.” William’s voice interrupted. William never interrupted new recruits.

Normally, Grelle brushed it off. It was her stage, she was the star, and anyone who misgendered her was simply not part of her play, ignored and never seen again in her world until they did better.

But that day, it was Grelle’s Death Day.

That day, maybe, her brain wasn’t as okay as she had thought it was when she woke up.

That day, the words went straight to her heart, which lit a fire into nerves that shouldn’t be active within a reaper… but which were prone to activating when on their Death Day… the nerves sent signals up to her brain, waking memories that should be in a cage…

Everything seemed to darken around her. To the outside, it just looked like she’d stopped breathing – like a robot who ran out of juice and couldn’t move another limb again. But to her, the world darkened, making her vision smaller until all she could see were her last moments, her last feelings, her reasons…

Until William appeared in front of her, like sparks in the dark, letting her focus on reality long enough to realise he had defended her without being provoked by her own acting… He believed her. He saw her.

“I told you to stay home, Sutcliff,” William scolded her, but despite the harshness in his voice, Grelle melted against him as he looped an arm around her waist and helped her off the desk to leave the office.

Reapers watched, empathetic and selfishly relieved their own Death Days were a while away still. Yet, despite the many gazes on her, all she knew was William guiding her home.

He opened her door with a key Grelle didn’t know William had, and let her inside. He stayed in the doorway himself, though, watching as she let her coat she so cherished fall off her and to the floor, shoes kicked off before she waddled inside to find a couch to disappear into.

And so, William stepped inside to clean up after her, caring for the coat he knew she’d care for again tomorrow, and putting the shoes in the shelf with the others. He closed the door behind him, and entered the living room to watch her sit on the couch, eyes empty, flashing between green and yellow as synapses re-awoke within her brain –

“Grelle.”

He’d believed her. He saw through her eyes, her act, and believed her.

She didn’t want him to go… “Will… Did I really kill those-“

“Don’t think too much on it,” William quickly interjected. “You had your reasons. You are making amends for it now.”

William never interrupted, unless it was to protect Grelle, either from others, or herself.

Clearing his throat, William sat down next to Grelle. “I have a long report to read through today. Let me read it out loud.” Let me distract you.

Shaking from the memories of her last breaths, Grelle nodded her head and curled up into a ball at the other side of the couch…

Things were easier with someone around to help keep Grelle’s mind away from the open jailcell of her past.

William made a new rule from that day on.

No one was to be alone on their Death Day.

And William and Grelle? They were always the ones helping each other.

__ taglist: @eemoo1o-animoo

[mintjasias]

amphibia ending.... 😭😭😭 spoiler-y talk (mostly sashannarcy, the ot3) under the cut

the extended credits and post-credits scene. i wish i was able to see the extended credits after i finished watching the broadcast of it because it changes how i was thinking about the trio at the end

in my initial thoughts i was like. though it’s hard to see that they fell into other friend circles, it’s still obvious that they were friends, kept in touch, and were meeting up for anne’s birthday and stuff so. tbh it made sense (also especially with them going to high school (where one would usually change up friend circles and grow and change more) and with marcy moving away) and i could see how they would still grow into their own people, just not in the exact same tight-knit dynamic as before

it also makes sense to me as someone who’s maintained long distance friendships with people :’) and how friendships can look different and change, but it doesn’t change that we care about each other still, etc.

but with the post-credits scene... now i’m thinking more about how. in friend trios, sometimes it’s just... not the same to hang out when one of the three are missing, so now my hc is more that sashannarcy kept up a group chat and stuff constantly, or as much as they could as they got busier over time, but that’s also how/why sasha and anne (and marcy, wherever she moved to) made other friends outside of just their trio and hung out more (irl) in other circles

and they just don’t get as many opportunities to see each other in person and really catch up - maybe the last time was a few years ago by then?? and now they’re old enough to have a drink together and just catch up 😭😭🥺 and also get together b/c they’re in love, (like them having other friends outside of just them is a Good thing imo, and esp nice in the sense of. giving them a “i like my friends, but i like my childhood best friends that i’ve been through [all of amphibia] with together in a different way”)

i knew they were keeping it open-ended (with the trio) from that interview, but tbh. they did a good job of making it open-ended in a hopeful way? like there’s room for imagining a future ot3 without having to rewrite canon (since ppl can imagine and ship however, generally lol, with canon or not), and they give some nice hints with just. everything (like ig some of it was them not wanting to ruin how shippers see things (for pairs) but as a trio.... chefs kiss)

so ultimately. thinking about amphibia. lots of nice thoughts and reflections about just. friendships, in general (i’ve thought semi-recently about how i have a lot of friendship trios), and on growth and change and how friendships and relationships with other people change over time; the journey of self-love with anne; found family...

and also a great ot3 for me to revolve in my brain. i feel like i don’t often have ot3s but sashannarcy are truly. really well done imo. you can really feel how much the girls all care about each other, even through it all 😭🥺 (besides being a ship that has it all: friends to enemies to friends (to lovers), sword fighting each other, changing for the better because of the other, believing in the others and them being your light in the darkness.... caters to me and my tastes specifically actually)

it’s also nice to see how the others are doing in amphibia, even if v bittersweet knowing that anne and sasha and marcy can never go back or really get to see how they’re all doing (though there was technically a very small portal that one time, so tbh maybe it doesn’t have to be completely out of the question to get some little updates here and there, one day)

also yulivia canon :’) but rip to grimepop (LOL) (though unironically i think it’d be interesting to see sylvia and hop pop and grime interact as another trio, but that’s neither here nor there) (also how we had the divorce trio. lots of trios in amphibia and imo it’s quite purposeful, at least in the case of the divorce trio (trio gone wrong) vs sashannarcy (trio that doesn’t go wrong))

man. i want to rewatch it so i don’t have to deal with commercial breaks (they felt. So Long. and also v mood-breaking) but i don’t feel like i’m ready to rewatch it yet LOL. at least by the time i get around to rewatching it, the extended post-credits should be included in the video, which imo is just. the best way to end it all

the leitmotifs of all the girls was like. everything i wanted to hear (some kind of medley that goes through all the girls’ leitmotifs together), and then the very ending shot........... :’))))))) man. man

the handholding. the blushes. drinks together. taking a new polaroid. the heart. anne has two hands. yea .

i also love seeing some of the crew’s doodles and fanart (now that they can share ones related to the finale) and like. the description of them being messy and in love is just. yeah. LOL. them

also canon bi sasha :’)))))) hell yea

as an aside. i rewatched the whole show leading up to the last two eps, and man, you can really feel the difference in how anne was at the beginning to where she is now 😭 her growth... also tbh. lots of fun to see all the references they made and have a little mental check of like, where they are then vs now

amphibia as a whole is just more lighthearted, and more humorous (compared to TOH), but for me it just. really stuck the themes of growth and change and friendship, taking it in as a whole/thinking about it after the finale (even if a part of those thoughts are me thinking about sashannarcy eventually getting together and figuring that out haha)

i’ll miss this funky lil frog show..............

[emeraldhazeart]

AO3 Stats Quiz

Thankyou for the tag @hannahcbrown! This seems fun. I've never looked through my Ao3 stats before.

➼ What is your total posted word count on AO3?

74,510 to date.

➼ How often do you write?

Not as often as I used to, or as often as I'd like.

I used to write at least weekly. Then I got busier, and I aimed to update my WIPs at least once a month.

But since starting a new job in August, I've barely found the time to write anymore. I really want to, though. I'm hoping that, as I get used to my work, I'll have more energy for all my creative pursuits, writing included.

➼ Do you have a routine for writing?

It would probably help me to write more often, but no.

I'm one of those people that can't write unless I feel inspired. Sitting down and trying to force the words onto the page never works.

➼ What are your favourite tropes/pairings?

Tropes: Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Beware the Nice Ones, Mama Bear/Papa Wolf, Catch a Falling Star, Reader Insert, (I'm sure there are many more, I just can't think of them right now).

Pairings: I'm struggling with this one, actually. I tend to prefer writing familial relationships over romantic pairings. I tend to stick to the canon/fancanon pairings most often, tbh, but I'm not against rare-pairs either.

I think one of my favourite ship dynamics is an elderly couple that have been together for decades, and still utterly adore each other. It's just so heartwarming and wholesome! Gives me the warm fuzzies just thinking about it 🤗

➼ Do you have a favourite fic of yours?

Two, actually.

My favourite Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons fic I wrote has to be Photograph.

My favourite Undertale fic of mine would have to be You Can't Pour From An Empty Cup.

➼ Your fic with the most kudos?

Huh. Not what I was expecting, to be honest:

In Your Corner - a one shot about Reader standing up for Horrortale Papyrus. Guess people really liked the idea of protecting the gentle bean...

➼ Anything you don’t like about your writing?

Oof. What creative type doesn't find fault in their work?

I wish I could write conversations that sound natural. I often have to rewrite them several times before I end up with something vaguely like how real people speak to each other.

And I'm painfully aware that I tend to over-explain what's happening in my story but that comes from a deep-seated fear of being misunderstood/misinterpreted...

➼ Now something you do like?

I feel like description has always been my strong point. I used to write creative prose as a child, where I just described a sunset or a rainstorm, no real characters or plot or anything. I love painting a picture with words alone.

And I LOVE metaphors and similes (tbh I tend to overuse them, lol 😅)

No pressure tags: @durotoswrites , @friendofbats, @beck-a-leck if you want to. And if anyone else wants to, consider yourself tagged.

[dizzydispatch]

Game On

Overnights are... boring. 

The other night, I handled my first working fire, and a simultaneous medical transport across town, and it reminded me of just how good it could be. Since then I've been acutely aware of just how bored I am. As I told one of the officers who asked me how the "night life" is treating me: I'm too much of a junkie for overnights.

While searching for something to do to pass the time, I came across this game.

There are a lot of things about my job that could be game-ified, and the fact that I work from a screen and mostly interact with emergencies through a digital map and a telephone means it will likely translate well to the video game format.

Of course, it's important for a person working a high-stress job to have a life away from work. Participating in leisure activities that have nothing to do with work is crucial to maintaining balance. Buying this game is probably the last thing that a healthy, well-adjusted dispatcher ought to be doing.

So, naturally, I bought it.

What can I say? I'm a junkie.

Before taking the plunge, I took a look at some reviews. 

"I only recommend this for people who get a kick out of sitting behind a desk and not doing alot," reports Steam user Corbwashington. "Wasn't for me." Well, I appreciate the honesty, at least.

According to his profile, Corbwashington, also known as Matt from Australia, has left reviews on 84 other games. With a whopping 1,100 games owned, I imagine "not doing alot" is kind of Matt's forte. But I have to admit, he definitely nailed what it can sometimes feel like to work overnights.

More optimistically, PANZER expresses their wishes that, "every urgency operator would have played this game and scored high before taking a job as an operator in real life," because "It really teaches you what to do in urgency situations."

As an Urgency Operator myself, I guess if I don't score well, it'll mean I don't have the chops to handle "urgency situations" and should probably quit now. (Actually, there is a test, called the CritiCall, that dispatchers have to score well on before being considered for the job, so maybe PANZER is onto something...)

Well, let's see how I do.

Game on.

Part 1: Tutorial

In lieu of a generic loading screen, I was instead treated to a handy little information guide. There were about 26 cards, each with some real-world information or advice. There were tips for interacting with 9-1-1, brief but surprisingly accurate first aid infographics, and this summary of the role of a dispatcher:

I wouldn't feel right about disseminating this provided information without also clarifying some points.

First of all, there's no such thing as an "ignorable" call. I can't speak for every PSAP, but both I've worked for had a no-ignore policy. Every call, no matter what, gets dispatched. After 30 seconds, any call still unanswered automatically reroutes to a backup PSAP, which can then decide to transfer it back to us, dispatch their own units as mutual aid, or take down the information and advise us later. Responding units may decide that a call doesn't require response-- but that rarely happens. And even then, calls are always processed and logged.

Second: while I haven't worked in every PSAP in the world, there surely is room to argue about the statistics. For one thing, I could not find anything to back up the claim that we take 150 calls a day. At my first job, I worked at a center that dispatched for six small-ish towns, with a combined population of about 50,000. On a  busy day there, the primary call-taker might take upwards of 20 calls, often clustered around major incidents with multiple reporting parties. But my typical count ranged closer to about 10. 

Now, working for a small town of less than 10,000, things have slowed down considerably. Days might see between zero and 5 calls to 9-1-1, but the business line rings right off the hook. Eves are busier for emergencies but slower for the business line, and night shifts, which I now work-- well, let's just say I usually have plenty of time to play silly games like this one. 

Also, in my experience, I'd estimate that maybe a quarter to a fifth of the calls I'd take were "empty." 

By "empty," there are a few different things I'm assuming they mean, and we have a term and SOP for each:

A hang-up that comes in too quickly to even pick up is called an "abandoned" call. We follow up with those by calling back if the phone system was able to collect a call-back number. 

If we're able to pick up a call but there's no verbal contact made, that's called an "open line," for which we initiate silent call procedure. 

True "prank" calls are rare, and I've personally never taken one. I know people who have handled "SWATTING" incidents and things of the like, but even those are pretty few and far between.

Prank calls, in fact, are criminal offenses-- but the bar for which we deem a call a "prank" is pretty high. 

Most calls made to 9-1-1 are reporting emergencies, but sometimes, they're just well-meaning citizens reporting things that might become emergencies, such as a low-hanging telephone wire, or a friend or family member who has been out of contact for a concerning amount of time. Other times, they're accidents. 

Accidental calls are pretty common, and make up a large percentage of the calls the game-makers would probably describe as "ignorable." If you call 9-1-1 by mistake, don't panic. Don't hang up, and don't lock yourself in a bunker expecting cops to jump through your windows to arrest you. 

The best thing you can do is just stay on the line, confirm with the call-taker that it was an accident and that you do not need emergency services, and answer any questions they ask. Answering them helps us because we have to keep careful records of any calls made to 9-1-1. 

However, the fact that these slides exist at all is a testament to the game designers' seemingly genuine desire to treat emergency dispatch work with respect, so they get points for effort with that one.

Part 2: Shift Change

The first thing I do when I come in for a shift is adjust the room to my preferences. Turn down the lights in the dispatch office, set the thermostat, make a cup of coffee, throw my dinner in the fridge, and stash my coat and backpack in the corner.

Next I settle at the computer and launch and sign into a boatload of programs:

CAD: Computer-Aided Dispatch software. This is the main platform on which I spend most of my day, assigning my units to calls and logging timestamps. The CAD program also stores previous calls, so I can access and cross-reference as necessary, and so the officers can use official logs when writing their reports

The 9-1-1 phone system and its associated mapping system

RapidSOS: a web-based service with more accurate mapping than the 9-1-1 phones have, as well as other available information that's associated with a phone number

CJIS: a couple of different programs we use to access Criminal Justice Information Services

Another mapping program with the town's fire response assets (hydrants, sprinklers) and liabilities (gas lines, HAZMAT concerns), along with building information relevant to a fire situation

The game, however, opens with the player actually making decisions that would, in reality, be way over their pay grade. You start out with a budget and a list of officers, vehicles, and equipment, and have to build your response units from scratch.

Choose what sort of police vehicle you want, staff it with officers, and buy them all weapons, bulletproof vests, and first-aid kits. How much you spend depends on how many and which resources you purchase for each unit, but I'm guessing that the cops with cheaper guns will likely cost me in the long run.

Forgetting for a moment that every decision made on this page is one made by people who make two to ten times what I do, I think it's an interesting look into how emergency response is staffed.

Once you've stocked your units and set them loose on the town map, you're then brought to the screen from which you will be interacting with your responders. It's comprised mostly of a large map of your jurisdiction, with little icons scattered across it to represent your responders' locations. 

When calls come in, a little icon will appear at the address of the call, color-coded by type of situation reported there. To dispatch a unit to a scene, you click on the units you want to respond, then on the dot on the map at your location. A line will appear between the two and a timer will tell you how long until the unit arrives.

I can't speak for other PSAPs, but neither of the ones I've worked for have used tracking on our responders. My town is split into two hemispheres, and patrol units (usually a single officer in a cruiser) are free to meander around the sector assigned to them that day, looking for trouble or speeding cars. Occasionally, my officers will self-dispatch "general patrols" in the CAD, which keeps me posted as to their approximate locations, but they don't do this nearly often enough for me to have their real-time location at any given moment.

Unlike in the game, I also don't dispatch with buttons on a map. In reality, what I do is relay the address and a summary of the situation over the radio. 

Also, it's a general misconception that it's always up to the dispatchers who to send to a call. While there are certainly times when I have to use my judgement to decide if a call requires a police, fire, or EMS response (for example, if a child was reported missing in the woods: I'd send an ambulance as well as police, but Kara says that unless she had reason to believe the child injured, she'd hold off on EMS until instructed), most towns have determined procedures. If SOP dictates that police respond to vehicle lockouts and fire responds to residentials, then it doesn't matter what I think. I'll send police to the vehicle and the fire department to the house.

Most of the gameplay is made up of directing responders to calls in this way. Some come in as 9-1-1 calls that you have to simultaneously manage, while others just pop up as notifications. As the dispatcher, you decide which ones take priority, and send the appropriate units using the map. 

In reality, all of my dispatching happens over the radio. I put the calls into the CAD as soon as I have the chance to, and once my officers let me know that they're responding to a call, I mark them as 'responding.' When they tell me over the radio that they're on scene, I mark them as 'arrived.' Same when they're clear, and for Fire/EMS units, same when they're en route to the hospital, leaving the hospital, and back in the station. That stuff doesn't happen automatically: I put it into the system as they tell me their status. 

Part 4: Call-Taking (Police)

At random intervals during the game, a 9-1-1 call will come in as a tiny little headset notification. If not clicked fast enough, it times out, resulting in a missed call. 

If you do manage to click it in time, a little window pops up, with a transcript of the conversation followed by a series of options as to what you, the call-taker, can say. There is also a button at the bottom to "IGNORE." 

My first call went like this:

Operator: "9-1-1, what's your emergency?" Caller: "Hello, there is a fight out on the street! Please, send the police quickly!"

The given options were: (1) how many people, (2) whether there were any weapons, and (3) if anyone was injured. None of these would have been my first question, but let's roll with it, and I'll dissect it more in depth later. 

Operator: "Can you see if they have any weapons?" Caller: "One of them picked up some kind of club!" Operator: "Could you give me a precise address of the incident?" Caller: "Yes, of course. It's at 255 East Spring Street."

Finally, we're getting somewhere. With the address given, a new icon populates on my map, and I can send my nearest units, two cars with two officers each. 

Except... there is one little problem. In the game, I can't start help until I hang up with my caller. 

Operator: "I'm sending emergency services right now." Caller: "Thank you. Bye."  

Well, that could have gone better. Let's roll that again, and this time, we do things my way.

Me: "9-1-1, this line is recorded, where is your emergency?" 

Not all places require that you indicate that 9-1-1 calls are recorded, but they always are. As a precaution, then, the PSAPs I've worked for make sure to include it right there in the greeting. 

As for the second part, it's simple. It was something Reg asked me in my interview: "If you are only able to get one piece of information from a caller, what do you want it to be?"

Location, location, location. 

I might sound like a desperate real estate agent here, but it's the truth.

If I know what you need, but not where you are, there's not much I can do to help you. Your dad is having a heart attack? Sorry, I can't send you an ambulance, because I don't know where the hell I'm sending it. I mean, I can EMD it, try to give you CPR instructions over the phone-- but unless you're a doctor (and if you are, you don't really need me to EMD it, anyway) you're not going to save him.

However, if I know where you are, even if I don't know what you need, I can still send everyone. Once they're on scene, they can duke it out amongst themselves who stays and who cancels. The important thing is to know where.

So that brings us back to the call.

Me: "Just to confirm, you're at 255 East Spring Street?"

Repeating back to them the address makes sure I heard them correctly. It gives them the chance to clarify that either, yes, that is where they are right now, or no, they're somewhere else, but the emergency is taking place at that address. It also helps to help establish a rhythm for the call: I ask, you answer, rinse and repeat. It is important that I maintain control over the call, allowing for my training to supersede her panic, which may threaten to derail the conversation.

Caller: "Yes, that is correct." Me: "Okay, ma'am, tell me exactly what is happening." Caller: "There is a fight out on the street! Please, send the police quickly!" Me: "Okay ma'am, I'm getting help started now. Please stay on the line while I get the police going."

This is the point where I'd dispatch my officers, saying over the radio something like:

"Control to all available units, we have a 9-1-1 caller reporting a physical altercation in the area of 255 East Spring Street. Gathering more information now."

My next focus is safety, for my caller and for my responders. 

Me: "You said there's a fight; are you involved in the fight? No? Okay, good. I want you to stay a safe distance away from them."  

Caller safety established: check. On to scene safety. My officers' first priority will be to secure any weapons, so my first priority is identifying what, where, and how many weapons they'll be looking for.

In this case, when Andrea tells me that one of them has a club, I'll want to follow up on that, get a description of the person wielding it, and instruct the caller to keep me informed of his movements.

Some other things I might ask from here:

"How many people are involved?" -- This will help decide how much manpower is needed to subdue the incident.  

"Is there a safe place nearby you could go to and wait for the police to arrive?" -- Because... duh.

"What is your name?" -- Knowing her name will help me establish a connection with her. She'll be more cooperative, and if I need to snap her out of a panic, her name is a good way to get her attention. (For the sake of talking about this call, let's say her name is Andrea.)

By now, in my town at least, responders will usually be on scene. But in a bigger town, or in cases where storms or accidents delay responders, there may be a longer response time. In the meantime, I want descriptions. I want to know if Andrea knows the involved parties, and if possible, can she give me enough on them to run them out. I want to know if Andrea witnessed how the fight started, heard anyone making threats, or saw anything before things escalated.

If I have to disconnect before they get on scene, I'll end the call with:

"If anything changes before help arrives or if you need any other assistance, call us back immediately at 9-1-1."

Part 5: Call-Taking (EMD: Emergency Medical Dispatch)

While most of the calls that came in on the game were police-oriented, there were a few fire and EMS calls too. I won't go into as much detail with these, but as with the call about the guys fighting in the street, location should have always been first. 

Instead, I often got questions like, "Is it possible that he's drunk?" in response to an unconscious male.

I don't care if the unconscious male is drunk. I don't even care that he's unconscious-- yet. I can worry about that once I know where I'm sending the ambulance. 

The second thing I need to know with a medical call is what's going on. Tell me the reason you need an ambulance. 

Third thing I need to know: is the patient conscious, and are they breathing? A negative to either of these starts a "hot response," and I now have to start CPR instructions. 

The calls that I took in the game didn't always have the best options given, and if I were to handle real-life medicals the way I had to handle them here, I'd be out of a job tomorrow.

Something that I did like, however, was the callers' sensitivity to my timing in choosing a reply. If I didn't reply quickly, they started to panic, and would ask me, "Hello, are you still there?"

This was probably the most realistic part of the entire game for me. Just like in real life, these fictional callers were panicky and prone to impatience.

As far as call-taking is concerned, I have to say I'm disappointed. In real life, the questions I ask, how effectively I can collect and relay information, and the way that I process 9-1-1 calls can have the potential to save or lose lives. 

Location is first, because without it, nothing else matters. 

Second is scene safety. If I don't clarify to EMS that the puncture wound they're responding to is a stab wound, advise them to stage outside until the police clear the scene-- well, let's just say that I don't want to be the reason my EMTs get stabbed. 

Third priority for medicals is the patient's "A/C/B" status: Alert, Conscious, Breathing. I need to know if the guy passed out in the sidewalk is breathing before I need to know if he's drunk. The difference between EMS response for a drunk unconscious male and a sober unconscious male is zero. It's the same response. But if I tell them he's not breathing? That turns up the heat immediately.

My point is, I wish the game rewarded effective call-taking, beyond timing how long you take to select a dialogue option.

    Conclusion

I really hope that PANZER's implication, that success in this game was in any way indicative of success in the real thing, was misguided, because--At least the game has one thing in common with my first dispatch job.

In some ways, this game was reasonably successful in conveying an impression of emergency dispatch. I still wouldn't call it accurate to life.

Many of the gameplay mechanics rely on the player managing things that dispatchers would not have control over in real life. The most egregiously inaccurate functions include:

Funding and stocking the police and fire departments

Directly managing the responses of units on your map

Calls "timing out" and being marked as unanswered

Not being able to dispatch a call until after you disconnect with the caller. (If it had been possible to do this while call-taking, callers' time-sensitivity would have been more meaningful, as you would be racing to start help while trying to also managing the call-- just like in real life.

The right questions not always being offered in dialogue choices

Encouraging players to gather information from 9-1-1 callers that would be irrelevant in real life

In all fairness, many of these choices-- especially the first and second points-- were made in order to make dispatch more hands-on, for the sake of gameplay. But had they been executed more effectively, I think there was potential. For example, the call-taking procedure could have been refined, directly rewarding players for gathering useful information. 

For all that was wrong with the game, though, I appreciated a lot too, including:

The ambiance, which reminded me of Reg's radio room

Callers being sensitive to time, putting pressure on you to make quick decisions

Having to manage multiple things at the same time, which is a real-life skill that dispatchers must develop

Allocating resources properly so that the most critical situations were dealt with first

Being rated on how quickly your teams responded to calls

Missed calls being counted against you (because even though no 9-1-1 call is allowed to go unanswered, having them constantly bounce will count against your PSAP)

All in all, not a terrible way to pass a dull shift, but not worth much more than I paid for it. Would I recommend it as a training resource for future dispatchers? Certainly not. At best, the game makes for an entertaining perspective on my job from what is clearly an outsider's point of view.

[sailtomarina]

Grazing Winter Herbs and Other Delights

Neville x Hermione | @hp-yuletide-bliss Day 13: Reindeer tracks | WC 1932 | Rating: T

“Thanks for coming, Neville. I know you’re pretty busy these days–”

He waved a dismissive hand. “I’m actually not as busy as you might think, and I’m always available to help a friend.”

“Still, thank you. I really don’t know what to make of what I found.”

She was of course referring to the gigantic holes in her herb garden. Neville hand helped her when she’d first moved out into the countryside, suggesting flowers and vegetables that not only suited her personality and diet, but also were moderately easy to care for. It wasn’t that Hermione was a beginner, she’d scored nearly as well as he in Herbology, but that she was the busier of the two. Neville couldn’t count the number of times they’d had to reschedule planting at the start. Frankly, he thought the Ministry was taking advantage of her hard work ethic, but it wasn’t really his place to say anything.

Where once there were several thriving bushes of thyme were now holes in the garden bed. Gone, too, were the chives and sorrel.

“I’ve checked for all the usual suspects: porlocks, mooncalves. None of them apply!”

“I see you’ve also erected the fencing I recommended since I was last here,” Neville said in approval, looking at the perimeter of cedar posts. It wouldn’t be enough to keep out the truly tenacious, but was a good enough deterrent for most creatures. “Have you considered any charms?”

“I have, but I thought I’d consult you first before going that route. I know there are certain magical plants that don’t do well with some charms.”

He beamed at her in pride. So she had been listening to him in the past. Granted, it was Hermione, the paragon of the perfect student, but still. It wasn’t often that Neville felt truly accepted when he went on one of his spiels. 

She gave him that cute little grin of hers that did something funny to his insides and playfully punched him in the arm. “What do you take me for?”

“I’ll take whatever you offer me.”

The words were out of his mouth without a thought, and he wanted to reel them back in the second they were out. Hermione appeared just as surprised as he, her eyebrows jumping high on her forehead and breath making in an audible woosh.

“Nev!”

He sighed in relief as she laughed, though it sounded a bit awkward together with how she looked away from him as she did so. He tried to not feel disappointed. There’d been inklings of interest, he’d thought, as they labored in the soil together. Lingering hands, teasing comments erring on the side of flirtation. A large part of him had hoped for some kind of progress tonight when he’d received her invitation. 

Perhaps, it was too soon. Perhaps, it was wishful thinking.

“Why don’t I take a look around and see what else we might have on our hands?” He turned away from her before she could meet his eyes once more. It was better he not look for what wasn’t clearly there.

Unlike the packed dirt on the opposite side of the planter. Clearly pressed into the ground were two hoof prints.

Huh.

He circled around looking for more tracks, but there were none to be found. He was lucky to have seen any at all, since most of the garden was covered in loose wood chips to stave off pests. So why was this one section uncovered?

“Hermione, come look at this.”

She joined him where he stood bent. “Oh! What’s this?”

Squatting down, she waved her wand in an intricate series of motions over the hoof prints. Moments later, a shimmering image appeared in the air before them.

“Is that…a deer?” Neville cocked his head in fascination. Of all critters, he hadn’t expected one of the most obvious threats to gardens. Hermione’s quick inhale had him looking over at her in alarm. “What?”

“I might be mad, but I think that’s a deer track.”

He swung back around to inspect the image once more. “Huh. I think you might be right.”

“Do you suppose it just jumped over my fence? I thought wild deer were extinct here, though I have heard of reindeer farms in Scotland.”

This time it was Neville turn to look at Hermione in amusement.

“What?”

“What about flying reindeer?”

The transitioning expressions on her face were comical to observe. First, her brow crinkled in what he thought to be disbelief. She frowned, her mouth dropping open before shutting again. Her head tilted, hands moving to her hips in that stance she’d perfected growing up and now seldomly used. Neville couldn’t help but grin at the sight of it once more.

“Neville Longbottom, have you lost the plot? There’s no such thing as a flying reindeer. That’s a myth, just like Father Christmas.”

“According to who?”

“According to everyone? I learned he wasn’t real when I was barely three-years-old!”

Neville hummed in understanding. “What if I told you that he’s considered very real in the Wizarding World?”

“I’d say you’re barmy.” She winked to soften the slight, and he warmed at the reassurance.

“He was a real wizard, just as magical as you and me, and he flew around in a sleigh pulled by reindeer. Some stories are based in fact, you know.”

She gaped at him, hands now dropped at her side. He would have laughed if he didn’t already know better. He simply waited her out, continuing to hold his smile.

“Well, my goodness. I don’t even know what to think.”

“I’m happy to share some other known facts if you’re interested.”

She nodded slowly and looked back down at the tracks on the ground. “So you’re saying these flying reindeer landed in my garden, forcefully enough to clear the woodchips I might add, and ate all my herbs?”

“‘I’m saying just that.”

“That’s,” she let out an incredulous laugh, “beyond anything I would have ever considered. I would have even thought of the legendary Hogwarts yeti before a flying reindeer!”

This time it was Neville’s turn to give her a blank look.

“What? Hagrid never told you about the yeti that’s often been seen around the castle in the winter?”

“No….” Was she having him ‘round the bend?

She nodded solemnly. “Ask any of the professors or ghosts. There have been stories about the Hogwarts yeti for ages. You can read all about it in the school records.”

Of course Hermione would have read school records of decades past, probably even centuries. Neville wasn’t sure why he was even surprised anymore, but that was just how she was. It was a large part of what he loved about her most: her inquisitive mind, a compassion for absolutely anyone and everyone in need, her unwavering loyalty and friendship. He couldn’t imagine not having Hermione in his life. He wanted her in his life everyday.

“You still have some bunches of mallowsweet left; I’m surprised they didn’t go after those first.”

Should he just go ahead and ask her?

“You’re right! That is curious.” She came around closer to him to inspect the innocuous plant. Neville had suggested she grow them as pollinators. He’d assured her that they were hardy and could survive almost any climate thrown at them. “I wonder if there’s some inherent defensive quality that deters grazers.”

The Herbologist in him could have pointed out mallowsweet leaves offered very little in the form of flavor or purpose for potion making. Chances were the reindeer hadn’t even been interested. He’d tried smoking mallowsweet with Hannah and Susan in Fourth Year to little effect. Whatever properties it afforded was still a mystery.

The man in him recognized an opportunity and decided to take it.

“What do you say we hold a stake out and see if any reindeer return to finish the job?” 

Eyes the color of rich dark chocolate looked up at him from beneath thick lashes. She smelled just as sweet–or was that the mallowsweet?

“Like an overnight kind of stake out?”

He slowly let his breath out, willing himself not to give away his nerves or appear too excited. “Something like that.”

“Are you free tonight?”

His heart was threatening to leap right out his chest.

“I can be.”

She looked up fully at him now, a coy smile playing on her lips. “Should I ready binoculars and disguises?”

“What are binoculars?”

A tinkle of laughter cascaded down like a refreshing morning mist. “They’re like portable telescopes you can wear around your neck. Or omnioculars, if you’ve ever used those, but without the fancy slow and rewind features.”

He chuckled, now understanding the silly image she painted. “Somehow, I think the reindeer won’t require either. We can just watch from the comfort of your home.” He looked over towards the window of the cottage where he could already make out a window seat just made for reading. It looked large enough for two people to easily fit. “Remind me later that I have some trailing houseplants you’d really like. They’d go perfect with your little alcove.”

She followed his line of sight, then looked back up at him and stepped closer. “Your expertise applies to interior decoration, as well?”

Just recently, he’d outfitted the entirety of Pansy Parkinson’s opulent Diagon penthouse with all manner of exotic houseplants and far too many holly berries. He’d barely escaped with his dignity intact; she’d been set on thanking him personally with the insistence that Galleons weren’t enough to display her gratitude. There was something intensely terrifying about her talon-sharp nails and the click of her heels against granite as she prowled after him.

Neville gulped and tried not to infer anything from the innocent question. “I’ve given advice to others before.”

“Do you do that often?” He couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but Neville was certain Hermione was implying something other than just the obvious. There was a shine to her eyes that reminded him a bit of Pansy, only he hoped this one reflected his own interest.

“Only for friends who ask and clients who pay very well.”

“I didn’t ask, though.”

There was a long strand of hair that had escaped her hair tie, and he couldn’t help but reach out and twirl the end around his fingers. There was no missing the way her breath caught at the action, or how she now looked up at him, lips parted, like she was wanting.

He couldn’t hide the truth from her now, not with her looking at him like that, not with the silky cinnamon curls clinging to his knuckles like they didn’t want to let go.

“You’re special.”

“I think you’re pretty special, too, Nev,” she said softly.

Her eyes dropped to his mouth and she licked her lips.

“Hermione?”

“Yeah?” The question was a whisper between them. Was she rising up towards him, or was he lowering down?

“I’d really, really like to kiss you, but I don’t want to be too forward.”

They were mere inches away now, close enough for him to imagine what she might taste like. Did she taste as sweet as the smell enveloping them both? What kind of pretty sounds would she make?

“Consider this my invitation.” Fingers curled into the front of his wool cloak and tugged him the final stretch.

Whether it was reindeer or another creature completely who partook of Hermione’s herbs, Neville would have to express his gratitude personally one day. Their excellent taste had afforded him his own chance to indulge, which he did with relish.

Cross-posted on Tumblr and AO3.

I absolutely adore Nevmione. The idea of a man with the confidence and expertise to overhaul an entire garden and greenhouse is just…OOOMPH. Grow things for me, baby. Show me those strong hands and shoulders! What better kind of partner to share a home and future with?

I actually grew up in Alaska where we do have reindeer farms and wild caribou. They’ve always been one of my favorite type of deer, alongside moose, which are also in abundance. I used to go to the LARS (large animal research station) at UAF to see them and the musk ox, especially in the spring with the yearlings. Did you know reindeer gobble up lichen like candy?

[hlmowrer]

Week 1: Home MTC in St. George, Utah

Hello friends!  I have written for you today a report of the first week of my new missionary life.  A lot has happened in such a short week, so get comfortable.

The strangeness started as soon as I left home, on my way to St. George, Utah for online training.  I wear a name tag wherever I go, which is often a conversation starter.  The gentleman who sat next to me on the flight from Portland to Denver inquired about my destination.  He wasn't a member of the Church, but was familiar with the missionaries.  I'm learning to get used to people asking me that...nobody paid me much mind in Vancouver or Portland but as soon as I boarded the flight to Utah I realized what I was in for.  Utah is a surreal place for someone like me...I'm used to being the only one in a room who even knows what the Church is, much less the only one who cares to talk about it.  Once you set foot in Utah, it's like the whole world is in on what used to be an inside joke.  The flight attendant, several people sitting nearby, and even the ground handlers in St. George wanted to talk to me, hear where I was going, and wish me good luck.  It's really odd being a representative of something bigger than myself like that, but the encouragement is nice.

Those of you that have been around a while might know that I am cursed to get ill every time I come to this part of the country...this time was no exception.  My first day as a missionary found me spending all morning at urgent care with the world's worst sore throat.  The doctors decided it was viral, and that I just had to wait it out.  That was a week ago, and it is unchanged.  Not fun, to say the least.

As for my work, well, that has been an unparalleled experience.  I am busier than I've been in years.  I have two 3 hour classes a day, and various devotionals, study periods, and teaching appointments.  That last one took me by surprise...apparently the MTC (Missionary Training Center, for future reference) has actors that you teach twice a week to get good at teaching.  Preparing for those lessons is quite stressful at times, but I'm getting better at it.  The second one I did on Saturday actually went really well!  

There have also been an incredible amount of cool spiritual experiences.  I don't think I could keep up with this kind of work without being a missionary.  I've only been going a week, but I've already had a massive boost in spiritual peace and connection.  I have become even more confident that God wants me here, and that there is so much more I can do to strengthen my relationship with Him.  The people He has put in my path so far have been the best part...my companion (the other Elder who's with me all the time) and district (the group of 12 missionaries I go to class with and will soon bunk with) are amazing.  I mean really, we figured out by day two that we got along well but by the end of the week we were 100% convinced that God put us all together.  They're amazing.  Many of those cool spiritual experiences came in the form of what I call "perfect coincidences".  So many times did we happen to study the same random passage of scripture and feel impressed to share it, or feel impressed to make a comment that was perfect for someone else in the district to hear.  One experience on Saturday was particularly special.  We were split into breakout rooms, and were given no further instructions than "be vulnerable".  The sister I was paired with shared some struggles she had been having, and the advice I felt impressed to share was "exactly what she needed to hear".  We repeatedly had exactly the same impressions and comments for the rest of the day, to the point where it was a joke that we could read each other's minds.  I don't think I can read her mind, but I am now even more convinced that God absolutely can.  Over and over I've had peace or specially chosen words and scriptures put into my mind this week, in a way I've never experienced before.  I feel like I can't truly articulate what that's like through an email, but I wanted to share it with you anyway.  I've had confirmation I'm doing the right thing by being here, and I can't wait to find out who I'll be able to serve and how I'll be able to grow over the next two years.  These are the benefits to being focused on Jesus Christ, every day.

On Wednesday I'll travel to Provo, Utah to begin in-person training.  I have very mixed emotions about this.  Adapting to the missionary lifestyle is worth it but often exasperating and I can already feel my little introverted soul having a heart attack about never being alone and being busier than ever.  But, I absolutely cannot wait to meet my district in person or to finally be able to go to the Temple again.  I suppose if Christ could get me through the whirlwind of this week he can help me get the most out of next week too.  In any event, I know this is where I'm meant to be.  As stressful or exhausting as the mission may get, I at least can take solace in knowing I could not be doing a better thing for myself or my future.  And for me, that's a pretty dang nice thought.  I hope this coming week treats you well friends...I'm sure next week I'll have even more to share with you.

 -Elder Beren Mowrer

p.s. Almost forgot...a great little bonus of the week was getting to see my little first cousin once removed  "grandcousin" Evee and her family, who recently moved here to St. George.  She thought my name tag was cool. :)