#Soap decided to exclude himself like

[ginandvodka-riley]

Cocomelon

Imagine that you're from a non-privileged country, or that has gone through a very sensitive situation I myself come from one of those countries so please don't judge me :(. For some reason that I'm not going to explain, you ended up being part of the Task Force. They love you; you love them, you're a lovely family and everyone's happy, ok?

Well, now imagine that one day you all decide to go to a bar to relax and just pass the time after the last mission.

Everything's fine, you enjoy yourselves and have a good time. That until you come back home, or well, Price's home since it’s the nearest one and you all are a little too drunk.

Once there he ordered pizza, and while you waited, sitting in the living room a little fight took place. Not a serious one of course, in fact it's more than stupid, something like;

"What are you looking at?"

“Not at your dumb face, that’s for sure.”

None of you even knew who started it, it just happened and somehow everyone got involved, even Ghost grunted like an old angry dog every time someone dared to look at him or just say his name.

It started with something silly, but slowly it escalated to random stupid insults, not real ones, more like "your mamma's so old she fed you with powder milk", that kind of insult.

And among those insults someone decided to say random crap about your country. Again, nothing serious, just something silly, like a common stereotype. You answered doing the same with UK's stereotypes, the accent, the teatime, or whatever crossed your mind.

When sober you all could say that everyone was just being stupid drunks, and maybe that's what led one of them to say a not-so brilliant phrase about a real problem that your country's been suffering from decades ago.

That was going far and even being bathed in alcohol they knew it.

But there's no turning back. You looked at them full of rage and in the most serious cold voice you spoke.

"At least my country didn’t give birth to an abomination called Cocomelon."

You mimicked a mic-drop and without saying more you left the room, did not even care about having dinner and filling your stomach with something more than alcohol.

And they were just left dumbfounded, not saying a single word nor moving a muscle, not even when heard the doorbell announcing the pizza had arrived.

Because there was nothing in this world that could deny the truth. A show that made experiments on little children to know how to rot their little brains, made them addicted to it and kill their attention and retention capacity, which in long term would made them manipulable. Not to mention that it'll cause them learning problems.

Well, yeah, that’s like a crime against humanity.

This sounded funnier in my head :( But anyway, I want to clarify that I respect all the countries around the world, they all have beautiful things (natural and men-made) that deserve to be loved and appreciated as same as its people ♡

[taste-of-the-divine]

ꕤ | Cumposure | Konig

— CODMW2 : masturbating!konig x femtease!reader

✩ 𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝙀: ​you tease konig a little too much, and he has to go take care of himself.

✩ 𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏 𝙄𝙉𝙁𝙊: 1k words ✩ 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉��𝙉𝙂: objectification (of reader by konig only), slight konig bullying, mention of breeding kink, konig masturbation

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀𝙎 𝙁𝙍𝙊𝙈 𝘿𝙄𝙑𝙄𝙉𝙀: the world needs more konig masturbation fics fr. share some w/ me if u have some :')

♡ REBLOGS + LIKES ARE APPRECIATED ♡ 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛 & 𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘒𝘚 | 𝘔𝘠 𝘗𝘈𝘎𝘌

he felt so dirty for thinking about you that way– you were the new recruit, barely a month on the job, and yet he couldn’t help himself. somewhere between the hem of your shirt and the edge of your belt is where his eyes lingered when you did your training. You were too focused, the rest of the room around you forgotten as you practiced– and Konig too distracted, staring at the toned midsection of yours that revealed itself when you moved a certain way, trying to pry his eyes away from the curve of your ass when you forced your way into a position that he’d do anything to be pinned under.

konig was always nervous, but nowadays, he’s visible more so around you, specifically. no one raised an eyebrow when you first met— his stuttering while you were calm and collected considered normal. but now others, like soap, can’t help but crack a joke or two, flung your way and his, sometimes in conjunction. like gradeschool, almost– everyone knew he had some sort of a crush on you, even you did. but it was work, and work was professional, and you’d barely spoken enough words to konig to feel the same. he kept his distance, anyway, admiring from afar being the most daring thing he did, because talking to you required more courage than he could have in a lifetime.

sometimes you’d tease him though, because for a man of his looming stature, it was undeniable how satisfying it was to see him blush and his mind go blank by a mere change of clothes, or a touch of the arm. taking off your t-shirt to reveal a skin-tight tank underneath drove him wild– you noticed that he would purposefully take apart his pistols to put back together whenever you did this, attempting to offer his brain a distraction instead of staring. and on those very rare occassions, you’d be daring enough to make his life a living hell– sitting on his lap inbetween training at the cafeteria when there wasn’t enough seats to sit with those you were actually friends with —price and soap.

konig, an embarrassed, blushing mess, would excuse himself after only a few minutes of enduring your teasing, leaving you and the others to giggle at his reaction as he fled to the barracks, and to his corner of the room. no one typically was in the barracks during meal time– so he had enough privacy to compose himself. 

and composing meant taking care of the problem that you had decided to invent in his pants, under those boxes, big and throbbing.

a zip followed the sounds of jangling belt buckles, his tactical pants falling to only his mid thigh in case someone entered. he was needy, and before he could even get himself out of his boxers, he had to grip himself over the grey cloth to satiate the tension in his cock. it then met the cool air, his own callused hand from training wrapped around it, jerking quickly from the start. 

it wasn’t wet enough, not that he wasn’t leaking any precum– but he was just so big, so it didn’t matter how much precum he leaked, he always needed to dribble some spit into his hands to get the slippery friction he craved. his entire body jerked suddenly when his wet palm dragged over the sensitive tip, his eyes rolling as he threw his head back against the wall. 

if you exclude the fact that he was humping his cock into his hands, konig was fully clothed, masked and all. he sat on the ground, one leg relaxed and laid straight, the other bent and doing most of the work pumping up into his fingers that he so desperately wished was you instead. his mind replayed everytime he’s seen you bent over, everytime he’s seen a sliver of side boob or the faint poke of your nipples when you were wearing less due to the heat, everytime you deliberately sat your ass on his cock and all that was stopping him from putting it inside was his dignity and some camo fabric. 

his panting got heavier, more desperate, more sensitive, because he was teasing himself now, fucking just the tip into a tight fist with his hips. thank god he had a mask on– it nulled the possibility of anyone seeing him mindnumb with his drool dripping down his chin and his lips parted in heavy breathing as he pathetically jerked off to you. at most, they’d just see his eyes crossing when he jerked himself just right, or when his horny fuck-for-brains gave him a thought that was too satisfying.

he hated that you didn’t even need to be naked in the slightest to get him like this, head filled with nothing but thoughts of cumming inside you in front of everyone else at the cafeteria table. he thought about how tight you’d feel, pussy stretched right over his cock, balls pressed up against the inner of your thigh. what really made him tip over the edge, though, was the wish that you’d beg him to breed you, pump you full–sink his big cock inside and burst, and then keep it there until he finished. every last drop.

so when he cums, it’s a few groans that comes first, followed by ceaseless whimpering as he continued to grip his cock. he wanted to milk his orgasm for as long as he could, it felt so fucking good, and for the entire climax he basically couldn’t see with how crossed his eyes were and how blurry his vision became. his mind went numb with pleasure, beads and beads of semen dribbling nonstop out of the tip for longer than he could hold his breath. 

and like that, it was over. sometimes he could go twice, but it’s too risky– someone was due to walk in any second. but he laid there, anyway, still and with his hand loosely holding his cock, catching his breath for only a minute. and then, he’d rejoin you and the others for the second half of the day’s training, composed and a little less anxious.

© copyright @taste-of-the-divine 2023 ♡ REBLOGS + LIKES ARE APPRECIATED ♡ 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛 & 𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘒𝘚 | 𝘔𝘠 𝘗𝘈𝘎𝘌

[24-05txt]

OH MY GOD

THE ZOMBIE AU

*Snarls ferally, but respectively*

MORE

*rattles the bars of my cage... Also respectfully*

So like..... 👀 I JUST WANT MORE. OMG PLEASE, THATS TOO GOOD 😭❤️❤️❤️

THANK U TGANK U THANK U i also want more fr.

Also you can rattle disrespectfully idm

IM GLAD U LIKED IT THO !! I'm always thinkin of AUs but so rarely do they spawn an actual creation like that journal entry

Uhmmm a lot of my thoughts on this got lost to the sauce in the big ghoap server, but here are some things I remember/just came up with:

- Ghost totally eats people too. He's not infected he's just a freak and a ride or die. If Soap is eating human flesh he is too. If he could get bit without compromising his ability to care for Soap by God he would be bit by now. Unfortunately he needs the fine motor control so he'll just keep LARPing as a zombie instead.

- Soap isn't dead TECHNICALLY. His heart stopped and restarted at some point but he does breathe and bleed and eat. I haven't decided exactly how the zombies work but if you've ever read the contaminated series by Em Garner, I'm thinkin it's something like that.

- that being said Soap can also talk. Not very WELL he doesn't have a great grasp of words anymore or very precise control of his lips/tongue but he CAN. Can also clearly still understand some things but draws complete blanks on others. Yes he knows what formation he's being asked to fall into but no he doesn't know how to hold that gun (not that anyone would want to hand him a gun)

- one more note about the zombies: Soap isn't the only "nonviolent" one (He's plenty violent just not without reason) but he is part of the minority and my boy is HUNGRY. Most other zombies have the hunger and VERY little else so they're just hangry and they can't eat ANYTHING because suddenly they can't keep anything down except raw meat and while that isn't limited to humans it definitely doesn't exclude them lol. Soap got to keep a fair amount of his auuhh (forgetting the word I want to use so—) cognition(?). He recognizes that he's hungry but doesn't lose control of himself about it yk.

- Ghost did not actually break out of quarantine, Gaz let him out & Price knows it, but can't blame him. Soap was looking real rough because he was starving, Ghost was only barely eating and so when Ghost started working at the door Gaz was like "Man. The degree to which this sucks is untenable. Yall may be batshit but you are my team" and he just opened the door. And they ARE team and so Ghost obv didn't kill HIM for food. And Soap wasn't going to either bc that's Gaz. Gaz is friend, not food.

- Price, as much as he can logically be like "Gaz disobeyed a direct order and put us all in danger. Ghost has lost his mind and Soap could snap at any moment" he doesn't have the heart to actually DO anything those are his boys!!! Not like anyone's keeping a super close eye on them anyway bc who has the time to give the stinkeye to a single task force when the world's on fucking fire. AND WHOS GONNA TATTLE ON THE GUY WITH A PET ZOMBIE?? NOT ME!! Live ur best life man.

Ran out of thoughts ty for asking I super appreciate it <3

[helianskies]

Fic authors self rec!♡

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

ahhhhh, thank you anon! have a cookie! 🍪 now i believe it's been a while since i last did something like this, so let's have a nose!

(another version of this ask has been answered here!)

i had a lot of fics to go through and decided to exclude my three long-fics to focus on my stand-alone works. so, in no particular order:

Let Me Go — mature, engspa — quite possibly my fave fic i've written from an antonio character study and historical engspa perspective.

“Am I allowed to ask why I am here? Your letter was a little bit… vague on the matter.”

“Yet you still followed it here,” Antonio replied, his smile returning.

“And you were not surprised to see me,” Arthur concurred, albeit, not entirely happily.

“For a simple reason,” the other claimed.

“Oh?”

“I believed you would come. And so you have.”

Holiday — teen+, turkspa — my second favourite antonio character study fic, with a somewhat more modern setting and duo.

It took a little while to sort out papers, but eventually, Mr Mateo Romero Vázquez, a man from some inconsequential town out in Castilla-La Mancha, was driving his little grey car out of the airport carpark and in the direction of the EO16.

His destination was Sarti, a coastal town with beautiful views out across the Aegean sea. A vast blue horizon. A chance to forget.

Fortuna — explicit, engspa — you have no idea what this fic and au mean to me. oh my word. the insanity i feel. the potential. oooh.

“It’s been a few days since we saw you here last,” someone greeted him.

It shamefully wasn’t the bartender, who was caught up further down the line, but instead, a new neighbour. A neighbour who preferred to stand. A neighbour wearing a very nice suit and an expensive wristwatch.

Arthur straightened himself up as he sat in the man’s shadow. Then he glanced at his neighbour, and said, “Miss me?”

“Hardly,” replied Abel with a light scoff.

Encounter — explicit, engport — this fic lives in my head rent-free and i have never looked at lavender soap the same way since. just fyi.

As the world's worst blind date hits rock bottom, Gabriel seeks refuge and privacy in the grotty bathroom of a pub so he can plot his escape. Little does he know that, once the door is locked, there's someone waiting for him who's willing to give him a good time.

Damnatio — explicit, romespa — the start of an obsession, i will admit. though perhaps i should call it a guilty pleasure these days!

The hands that touch him used to be hands that scared him. He used to think that they would maim, hit, bruise, beat—but all they do, it turns out, is hold, caress, stroke, and squeeze in a way so unholy that it feels divine.

[feyre-darling92]

A run from the past

A/N: Soo, first fic for Ghost and probably a series. Also I deleted it by accident so there might be some errors. Anyways, enjoy!

T/W: Um, typical cod stuff, Ghost being a dick, maybe bad language and definitely bad writing.

Word Count: 1,067

“Everyone, welcome the team’s latest addition to this mission, Crow. She just came so unless you want anything more, introduce yourselves and wait for my word.” You stood next to Kate as she introduced you to the team.

The orders had arrived too late, forcing you to grab the first plane from your city to come to the base which meant that you didn’t even have time to unpack your things before meeting the team.

“So, you’ll be helping us?” The man who seemed to be the captain said and you just nodded. “ I’m captain John Price. Nice having you around” His warm smile welcomed you more than his words.

“I am soap.” One of the tall men introduced himself, the one with the mohawk. He seemed alright.

“And I’m Gaz” The other man added. Just like his teammate he seemed nice, they both gave off good vibes.

“This one” Soap gestured to the man with the ghost mask and the intimidating posture, “This is Ghost”

He didn’t need to introduce him to you. Ghost was something like a legend. You’d heard many stories and many sayings but  you had decided you wouldn’t believe them until you had met this man yourself.

He just nodded, acknowledging your presence. Nice

“And you are?”Gaz asked.

“I‘m Lieutenant  Y/N L/N, specialist to undercover missions” you tried to smile.

“Wait” Soap cut you off “you’re the Crow? Wow”

You sighed. “Yes, I am” you looked at your feet, afraid of what they might have heard. Let’s just say that the rumors about you were- well, they were plenty.

“If we’re done with the introduction” Kate who noticed your discomfort changed the subject, “Expect files with everything we know so far and a call to come by. Until then, stay safe”

She looked at everyone and then at you, “If you would follow me” she gestured to the door and after you had exchanged goodbyes you left.

“Who do you think might be?” Laswell asked after a few minutes on the way to your apartment.

“Well, judging by what you told me we are probably facing a professional terrorist. Their moves are planned too carefully and with unique ways”

“They?”

“I don’t exclude the possibility of the perpetrator being a woman. But until we find out who exactly they are, everyone can be them”

“I agree with you” You stopped at the front door, “Try to make yourself home. I have a feeling that you’re gonna need to stay for long” she handed you the keys to the apartment you were given in the base.

“Goodnight” you unlocked the door.

“Take care please”

And with that you were left alone standing in the dark, in the living room of your new home. If you would ever call this a home.

You just did what you do every time, placed the suitcase on the floor not bothering to unpack and after your night routine lay in bed.

However while you were setting the alarm for tomorrow morning a notification popped up. A message.

‘You think moving to a military base would be enough to keep me away? Think again’

You just stared at the screen unsure of what to do. Then another message appeared:

‘You can try and catch me but it will end like your previous mission’

Shit.

“Y/N, what happened?” Kate immediately answered your call, her worry clear.

“I think we might have our first clue. I got two messages”

“Come and meet me at my office. Now”  She hung on and you got ready to leave the house. This was gonna be a long night.

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

You pushed the door open and were greeted with the sight of the entire team waiting for you.

“Are you okay?” Price asked worried.

You just opened your phone and showed them the messages, handing the phone so everyone could read them.

“What’s the phone number?”

“It’s unknown. Think you can track it down?”

“We’ll try but we can’t guarantee anything-”

“Why did he communicate with you?” Ghost stepped in.

“I know as much as you know, Lieutenant” You replied rather annoyed by his assumption.

“What happened on your last mission?” Soap asked. You wish he hadn’t.

“Nothing that should concern you, Mctavish” your answer came out angrier than you’d liked.

“If anything, we should know” Ghost insisted on learning, which didn’t help the whole situation.

“The people who need to know, already know” you shot him a death glare and hoped it would stop him from saying anything more.

“We’ll look through this but until then you’re not allowed to leave the base” Kate said and took your phone.

“You’re dismissed until further notice. Until then, be careful” Price dismissed you and everyone started leaving. “Ghost, please accompany her to her apartment” Captain’s last orders had found you unprepared.

“I appreciate that but I will manage perfectly well on my own” You tried to politely change his mind but it was pointless.

“I know, Y/N. But until we find out who are they and why they contacted you this is how it’ll go”

“Yes sir” you sighed and exited the office with the ‘brooding ghost’ on your side.

“I don’t trust you” he stated a few minutes later.

“I thought so. Why?”

“I just don’t” he side-eyed you. “Why should I?” he questioned and you thought about it for a second.

“Because if we are going to do this and do it right we’ll need some trust” you said after a few seconds without looking at him.

“Look. You have a past, and I respect that, but I understood that you have secrets. If these are going to affect our mission then we should know”

“The people who need to know already know” you repeated your previous words. “And why should I trust you?”

“For the favor of the mission” he replied plainly.

“Uh huh. How about this. You don’t have to trust me and I don’t have to either. However if you stick your nose in my business I swear that there will be no good ending”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Lieutenant” he replied coldly.

“Good” you stopped in front of your door for the second time this evening, “Night”

He just nodded and left, your eyes following him until he got out of your sight. This was going to be an interesting mission, you thought to yourself.

A very interesting mission.

[horuslupercal]

I desperately need to know how Konrad's life gets even worse in EISW. I'm also curious about Perturabo, but I NEED to know how it is possible for Konrad to take more Ls.

Konrad is actually one of the very few that get a change that makes their lives better, at least for a while! (Lion is about the same but considerably weirder, Perturabo hates his life which is nothing new but Emps is at least happy to have a presentable Primarch, and Khan actually gets the good end)

Konrad has a vision and wakes up in a dumpster (probably not joking) and tries to set up Nostramo for some actual success, chooses a name to try and play at respectability and (metaphorically gnawing his own fingers off about it) starts delegating. kind of. in a micromanaging boss kind of way. He is NOT popular amongst his brothers or legion cause he is a total killjoy and holy shit the leash the Night Lords are on is TIGHT (even excluding lion holding some poor night lord under a sink with a bar of soap in his other hand for swearing in his presence). He gets a really weird rep regarding it, since the Night Haunter is still him and he is the Night Haunter and do not presume his civility now prevents him from continuing his mission the way he started it :)

that said, the weird constant anxiety/stress situation of giving over even a little control regarding crime management and watching it not go the way it's supposed to really wears him down. he definitely gets a little... I don't wanna say paranoid, because that doesn't feel quite right, but he can tell when people are keeping secrets and not knowing what the secrets are means they're probably bad and something that should be dragged to the light, kicking and screaming, for Judgement. I'm still not entirely sure what happens during the heresy era, because what's a HH au without a heresy, but I DO know he straightup murders Lorgar around that time (rip Lorgar he's one of my top 5 primarchs ever, he will be missed. also not to victim blame but literally all he had to do was explain and konrad probably maybe wouldn't have killed him if he'd managed to reel his temper back in) and also probably accidentally causes at least one piece of the schism of 1054 heresy

during the heresy he spends a lot of time hunting dorn and fulgrim and taking the L on that front so hard that it adds badddd bad fractures in his composure. will get back to you on how that turns out but he might just die like an enraged sim (JOKES, if he dies it'll be a worthy end)

Perturabo is a politician. he forced himself into it because he did some evaluation and decided it was the most efficient way out of the ridiculousness that is Olympian politics and it sucksssss. he hates it because Autism.Primarch and he constantly feels like he's on the wrong footing and politics are far from low energy/easy social interaction even for people who naturally take to social endeavours. less trench warfare for him because Emps is lacking a little in the Face Man department (rip Roboute and Fulgrim and Lorgar), but somehow being a Face Primarch is just as unrewarding and even more exhausting. the primarchs yearn for the trenches (JOKE don't put him in a trench. give him some migraine meds and a bubble bath. he deserves it for consistently being the primarch that Carries in every universe)

he gets more time for his artistic hobbies, though, which is a win for him

funfact: he and Sanguinius are friends :3

[heloflor]

So, given that I didn’t have much time to work on fics recently because school, I’ve decided to relieve some stress by making a random representation of how I imagine Cavendish and Dakota’s house in their time-period looks like. And since I have no plans to ever describe it in detail in a fic, here it is ! Though, given how bad I am with designs, showing the house is mostly an excuse to infodump on domestic headcanons.

Regarding the last names, I didn’t make a typo for Cav. I like to imagine the two getting married way before the events of the show, with Cav taking “Dakota” as a last name, mostly because he got several siblings in-law on the Dakota side who adopted him on the spot.

And about the representation of the house : yeah it looks like shit. Since I can’t draw, I’ve decided to do something rather quick using MSPaint but yeah, not the best thing in the world. Though, if I get back to playing the Sims 3 at some point and end up making a Dwampyverse savefile, I’ll most likely try to recreate that house and could share a few pics.

I also went with a rectangular house with one floor instead of some futuristic-looking thing, mostly because I have no imagination when it comes to design. Though, you could still use the excuse that they want something more “old-timey” given their job or that they don’t have all the money of the world so they chose a simple house for the small cost. But yeah, by the end of the day, the choice is mostly because I can’t design shit.

But still one thing in my defense : looking at episodes that take place in the future like “Missing Milo” or “First Impressions”, it seems that most buildings are square-y with the roof being the weirdly-shaped part, with B.O.T.T. being one of the few exceptions. And looking at “A Christmas Peril”, the buildings are definitely more wacky but it’s 20 years later so…

I could also mention that I’m a bit unsatisfied with how empty the living-room and the bedroom ended up being but I’m drawing a total blank when trying to come up with the kind of stuff Vinnie and Balth would have that are linked to their interests. Though, maybe the excuse of them not being often at the house works ? Idk. Let’s just say I have ideas for the “basic” stuff, aka what you find in basically every single middle-class house, but draw a complete blank for anything that’s decorative. Still posting a map of the house tho because I don’t really consider it a work in progress if I simply have no idea and may never do. I’m very bad at design so bear with me on that one ! It’s not only about the house, it’s also about the fluffy headcanons !

So here’s under the cut some random info about the look of the rooms and furniture + a bunch of headcanons regarding Vinnie and Balth’s lives in this house. For each part of the house, you first have the info about how it looks first and then the headcanons.

Those headcanons are made with the idea that Vinnie and Balth are married (duh) but also, for a few, that Vinnie has three siblings + a few in-laws that he has a good relationship with.

(very long post ahead)

General :

- They bought the house in 2162, 2 years after getting married.

- It’s in the suburbs, or at least what the future version of the suburbs would look like. In other words, the presence of a backyard is debatable.

- There could be a garage for their time vehicle, so that they don’t have to go to headquarters every single day. And if not an actual garage, there’s at least some space to put it. In both cases, it would be near the bedroom��s side of the house.

- While the walls outside would have that futuristic “metallic” look, the walls inside would be a bit warmer. At the very least, the inside isn’t “future metallic white”, especially with Vinnie having photophobia.

- The intensity of the lights in every room can be adjusted. That way, Vinnie can put the dimmest light and navigate the house without his glasses. This is mostly useful for showering and midnight snacks.

- When they went house-hunting, Balth was the one who insisted that they needed a place with those kinds of lights. This is also the same kind of lights that Vinnie had in his now-former apartment.

- You know how near the end of the episode “First Impressions” you have Balth going into Mr. Block’s office ? Well, the way the door opens in that moment is how the door opens for every room of the house, perhaps excluding the main entrance (I like the idea of their front door being an “old” one, aka the “normal” doors we have today).

- Every room would have a spot that can create “tactile panels”, like some holographic tablet that can be used to change the settings of the house, for example changing the lights or the internet or even lock the doors and blinds.

- In 2175, when they were forced to leave the future, Vinnie stole a device from B.O.T.T. that made him able to create some kind of forcefield around the house that only he and Balth can remove. So, even if they’re not there anymore, the house still is theirs and can’t be sold to anyone else. And before you ask why B.O.T.T. didn’t simply send agents to bring the duo back and force them to open the shield : the forcefield works with hand-scan detection and Vinnie convinced Balth to use their left hands, the hands with the wedding rings. So if time-agents come knocking, they could try convincing the agents to let them use the bathroom first and they could wash their hands and use the soap to remove the rings. That way, the scan wouldn’t work and the agents would have no way of knowing why.

    Living room :

- There’s more furniture than showed here like souvenirs from previous missions or some random stuff that belongs to them. I just don’t have enough imagination. : /

- Likewise, the corridor has a few pictures or posters, like pictures that Vinnie didn’t have the space to put in his memory room but still wanted to display. Also, I want to say that Vinnie would display pictures of his family (sibling, in-laws and nephews) but I’ll see him more as having an album for family pictures, or a framed picture on his nightstand.

- There could definitely be a carpet or two. They would either be modern ones to fit the fact that they’re from the future or vintage stuff found in some of their missions. One of the carpets would be under the coffee table. Another would be in the big-ass space between the living-room and the kitchen, or in the corridor.

- The style is a mix between old and new stuff, with also a few things related to their interests. Like, for example, the couch could have an animal pattern or something (AND BY THAT I DON’T MEAN REAL ANIMAL FUR).

- Speaking of the couch, after looking up “futuristic couch” on the internet, they would absolutely have one of those gigantic couches that have like a bed attached to them due to how big they are. Btw I have no idea which company came up with this design and I couldn’t care less. It’s just that the design looks cool and would fit a futuristic house.

- The side table is a floating square, given how we see in “A Christmas Peril” that tables in the future don’t have feet anymore (that’s one way to protect your toes).

- The floor lamp is more futuristic. It’s like a white orb attached to a lamp foot.

- The TV is attached to the wall. The remote is some kind of holographic tablet, kind of like the house settings thingy.

  - This is where Balth would spend most of his mornings and evenings when they stay home. He’d just be sitting with a cup of tea, most of the time also a book, with the sun illuminating the room, just feeling comfortable and peaceful. The side table/cube was bought specifically for Balth’s tea. He would also use the lamp while reading in the late evening, either for the peace of having little to no light and solely focusing on the book or as a way for Vinnie to be in the room with the lights at the lowest setting. And speaking of Vinnie, he would sometimes join his husband on the couch, lying down with his head resting on Balth’s legs (cue Vinnie falling asleep, leading to a frustrated Balth who needs to pee but doesn’t want to wake him up).

- Since there’s a mini-table for when Balth drinks tea, the table right in front of the couch is mostly used for Vinnie to rest his legs on.

- And speaking of fluffy headcanons : movie nights. From time to time, aka minimum once a month, probably more, the couple would be in their pajamas cuddling on the couch while watching a movie, with Dennis resting in Balth’s arms.

For the movie choices, Balth would choose science-fiction, especially if there are any Professor-Time-themed movies, but also historical fiction (for some reason I tend to see Balth as having a liking for history ? I think it’s because of the way he dresses + his small rant about pirates in “Game Night” ? Idk honestly. It’s mostly a random headcanon that’s here for some weird reason). As for Vinnie, it’s mostly animal documentaries (Balth falls asleep halfway through but Vinnie doesn’t notice until after it’s over) or animated/family movies (the future equivalent of D*sney, S*ny pitcures, P*xar etc. Which are movies Balth would enjoy as well). For some weird reason I’ll also see the two of them being into mystery movies (crime-solving movies basically).

And if they sometimes decide to watch other genres, I could see Balth having a liking for some romance movies, because for some reason I like the idea of Balth being sappy. Besides, the guy is passionate when it comes to proving himself at his jobs and takes them pretty seriously in order to reach his objective. And given how he can be insecure and sometimes feels like a ball of anxiety, who’s to say he isn’t passionate when it comes to love too ? And no, I don’t mean passionate as in “making out all the time”, I mean passionate as in taking relationships seriously and making it work while also wishing to make sure his partner knows that he’s loved, even if Balth isn’t really the best at expressing his affection all the time.

On a different note, to get back to other genres : Vinnie would probably like horror movies. Because if cuddling in front of a sappy movie is great, having your husband show his love and trust for you by clinging to your arm out of fear is even better, nevermind the fact that you’re as terrified as he is.

    Kitchen :

- It’s one of those kitchens with two walls of cupboards/cabinets, both on the ground and elevated. One of the cabinets is used entirely for snacks. Because Vinnie.

- The wall separating the kitchen and the living room “has a hole in it”. It’s like you have a small wall with cupboards, a hole, and a wall connected to the ceiling with a few cabinets. Basically, you look up “kitchen cupboards” and imagine that the space in-between is a hole instead of the wall (why is it so hard to explain something so simple ?).

- This would be the most futuristic-looking room of their house. Looking up at references, they’re that Pinterest post showing a room with white cabinets with round corners and what seems to be slide doors. This is pretty much how I’ll see their kitchen, except bigger, with a different wall color and with one wall not being here (see above).

- The table is floating because of course it does. The chairs don’t tho. Also the chairs are as futuristic as the rest of the room. And looking up the internet again, the chairs are shaped like chairs.

  - So I put a stove but tbh I’m not sure how much these two would cook, given how in the show they’re always seen eating out (granted they don’t have a kitchen in their ‘apartment’ in Milo’s time). And given how most things seem automatized in the future, let’s just assume that the house can do most of the cooking itself with like a robot (aka plot-convenience technology) but still needs the necessary furniture and ingredients for the recipes. Also, if there’s an issue with their cooking system, they’ll probably know a few recipes and can feed themselves (Vinnie’s oldest brother Enzie would definitely teach his younger siblings a few recipes, at least enough to survive on their own. And he would be more than happy to teach his brother in-law as well).

- I put 4 chairs at the table but honestly I could see them keep 2 at all times and put the others in the storage room, especially the times they get very busy with their job for a few weeks and don’t have the time for social life.

- At some point, Balth probably tried to convince Vinnie to have better food habits and tried to put his snacks on the higher shelves. Not only did it not work because chairs exist but also it led to Vinnie getting frustrated. So Balth dropped it. Though, he would still try to talk Vinnie into working out to stay rather healthy.

    Memories room :

- Vinnie’s personal space. He basically saw the third biggest room of the house and went “mine now” and Balth had no issue letting him have it (hard to say no when Vinnie’s eyes shine like that).

- He already had a memory room in his old apartment.

- Basically, Vinnie brings back souvenirs from his missions, along with pictures he took, and put them on display. For more information, I made a post about it a while ago, so check it out if you want info on it.

And side note : I learned more about ADHD and autism later on and found out that the correct word for Vinnie’s passion for animals is a special interest, not a hyperfixation. The main difference between the two terms is how long your interest last. The reason I used “hyperfixation” in my post is because 1. I didn’t know that “special interest” was a term that existed and 2. people with ADHD kept talking about having hyperfixations and most people see Vinnie as having ADHD. So yeah, my bad for using the wrong term. And while I won’t change the current text from my post, especially with someone in the notes correcting me (I don’t want them to look like an idiot), I’ll definitely add a few words at the end of the post about it.

 - This is where Vinnie spends most of his time when at home, trying to keep the room in the best condition.

- There’s a window in the room but Vinnie condemned it in case some of his souvenirs were sensitive to the sunlight.

- The room is made entirely of shelves, with like four-five rows on the same wall. The shelves are either integrated into the walls or they’re floating because future. In any cases, there’s nothing around the shelves, it’s just shelves with stuff on it.

- When you enter the room, one of the rows of shelves next to you has all the animal-related stuff he gathered before starting a relationship with Balth. The rest of the room can have a few animal-themed objects but the pictures tend to be more linked to him and Balth.

- Likewise, when you enter the room, on the shelf you’re immediately facing, there’s a miniature recreation of their wedding altar with their wedding picture in its center. The miniature is made out of the future equivalent of papier-mâché and the altar is themed around time-travel with objects from all kinds of time-periods and cultures. And for those who might ask regarding the picture : Vinnie has a black suit and carries the bouquet while Balth has a white suit. Both have a hat that’s basically Balth’s usual hat (with the Professor-Time goggles, because themed wedding) but colored like their respective suit.

    Balthazar’s office :

- The room has quite a few libraries but this is mostly decorations. Basically, this room is more of an 1800th century study than anything, especially a rich/royal study. Yeah, for some reason I see Balth as having an office that’s just “rich 1800th century” aesthetic. I think it’s from the headcanon of him being a runaway prince 🤔.

- So yeah. The bookcases are vintage, the piano is your usual black piano, the armchairs are vintage and tbh Balth almost never uses them because he’d rather read in the living room, and the desk is vintage, though the stuff on the desk is futuristic. Balth is up to date with the technology he’s using to work, he just likes the older aesthetic for the rest.

- On his desk, despite literally living with the guy, Balth has a framed picture of Vinnie (again, I want the stubborn gay disaster to be sappy from time to time, with his love language being small touches and attention to details like for example being able to quickly see the kinds of foods Vinnie like the most so that when he’s in a bad mood, Balth can get him that specific food to make it better ; or learning Vinnie’s body language to know when he’s upset or bothered by something).

  - Balth mostly spends his time here to make the reports on their missions or work some administration stuff when needed. When he isn’t at his desk, he’s there to play the piano.

And yes, I throw out the window that line from “Backwards to School Night” that indicates Vinnie doesn’t know about Balth playing piano but tbh I ignore or question quite a few things from this episode such as : the line indicating that Vinnie and Balth don’t live together in their time-period since Balth doesn’t know Vinnie’s weekend habits ; the line about how the ray thing age you down to 90% your current age and yet baby Vinnie seems younger than the parents despite his adult self seeming older; the fact that Melissa read a book 16 times in the span of 6 minutes ; the fact that it’s called a “age regressor ray” and not a “age regressor ray-inator” (seriously, I am the only one always expecting Vinnie to say “inator” and being disappointed when he doesn’t ?).

- The couple absolutely sing songs together with Balth playing the piano. Or at least Vinnie would sing a song in the middle of the living-room and have Balth be annoyed by it, only for Vinnie to hear Balth play the same song on the piano later and join him.

    Bathroom :

- Not much to say here. It’s a bathroom. It’s futuristic-looking. The mirror is a cabinet. The tub is round. The bin comes in and out of the wall. The clothes drier also irons the clothes. The toilet is glued to the wall. The walls are dark gray or dark blue or at least a darker color so that Vinnie doesn’t have to dim the lights to the lowest level when he’s showering. There are also several little lights along with a main one so that Vinnie can light the small ones instead of getting a headache due to the brighter light. During lazy/slow days, Balth would take baths instead of showers (and Vinnie would want to join him to make out). Balth may or may not sing in the shower (Vinnie definitely does). That’s pretty much it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

    Guest/Storage room :

- Only used as a guest room when one or several members of the Dakota family are visiting the states and end up in the Tri-State-Area. So for 90% of the time, the room is used as storage.

- Bed’s not that big and very “squary”. Might or might not be floating.

- It’s mostly random junk that they don’t know where to put and don’t want to get rid of, like some stuff they got from their missions but that Vinnie doesn’t want in his room or some old things they want to give at a garage sale or that one Professor-Time body-pillow that Balth refuses to let go of while Vinnie just wants to trash the thing. The body-pillow being in the storage room in a junkpile was their compromise on the issue. Also, whenever someone might stay in the room, Balth makes sure there’s no way they will find the body-pillow (his sister in-law Bettie would never let him live it down).

- Not much to say here either aside from that.

    Master bedroom (the room in which the proportions are way bigger than the rest of the house because I have no idea what I’m doing) :

- I described the room quickly in my fic “nightmares” but yeah basically the room has several posters and pictures related to their interests, along with a bookshelf full of animal encyclopedias, time-travel facts, history books, Professor-Time fantasy books etc. There are also albums, whether it be family pictures or album of the two of them.

- Like for the living-room, there can definitely be more than what I described/pictured here. I’m just really bad at imagining the kind of stuff people would have in their bedrooms related to their interests. And speaking of which : at some point, there was the aquarium that Vinnie mentions in “Time Out”.

- Unlike the other rooms in which the windows have roller blinds (apparently that’s the english word for it ?), this one has curtains on top of it because Balth likes to open the window in the morning but he doesn’t want Vinnie to hurt his eyes. So with curtains, he can open them enough to light the room but not enough for the light to reach Vinnie’s face.

- The bed is pretty classic for a futuristic bed but with round edges and these two idiots definitely go crazy with the sheets design (animals, food, Professor-Time, past time-periods, stuff like that). Also, the bed is “open”. By that I mean that, if you look at futuristic designs, there tends to be some roof thing above the bed and linked to it. They wouldn’t have that.

- The nightstands are floating cubes.

- “Dennis’ chair” is just some random old wooden chair where Dennis stays most of the time. Balth almost never takes him during his missions and Dennis is a comfort object that Balth mostly talks to when sitting on the bed, movie nights aside. So the bear stays in the bedroom.

- The bookshelf would also be made of wood.

- The wardrobe is futuristic, with doors that can open by themselves with sensory detection. Also, unlike what that poor “drawing” shows, the wardrobe is “taller” than it is “larger”.

- The armchair is an egg chair.

  - They sleep

- They spoon

- Balth is the big spoon because 1. he’s taller and 2. he grew up sleeping while embracing a teddy bear and old habits die hard.

- When Balth goes to sleep or wakes up, he can’t help but play with Vinnie’s hair and give the small man a few kisses, feeling satisfaction in seeing his husband smile or try to pull away while laughing.

- Vinnie sleeps on the side closest to the window while Balth sleeps on the side nearest to Dennis.

- Balth’s nightstand has an alarm clock that’s basically just a holographic square with numbers on it, while Vinnie has an album or some random animal trinket. Vinnie’s alarm clock is not feeling Balth’s warmth against him. But if Vinnie has to use an actual alarm, the sound would either be some old-fashioned song or an animal noise (is this starting to get too much insistence on the “animal-loving” side of him ?)

- While Balth likes to read in the living-room, Vinnies likes it better to chill in the bedroom when reading. Also, during weekends and vacation days, Balth would sometimes read in bed before sleeping (yeah for some reason I really like the idea of Balth being a reader. I think it has to do with him being old or british ??? Weird brain is weird. And besides, if Balth reads, it would most likely be science fiction related to Professor Time). Vinnie uses this time as an excuse to cuddle.

- They have themed pajamas. Balth mostly has Professor-Time stuff (clocks, Heinz or Perry’s faces etc) while Vinnie has mostly animal-themed or food-themed pajamas.

- Vinnie sometimes sleeps naked in the summer. Balth is still trying to figure out how he feels about that.

- Random headcanon regarding Dennis : while he belongs to Balth who keeps him close when in doubt in order to vent or when he wants to get comfortable somewhere, I actually like to believe that, between the two, Vinnie is the one who talks the most to Dennis, mostly because Vinnie would just enter the bedroom and casually greet the bear, or he and Balth would have a dumb argument and Vinnie would playfully tell Dennis “Can you believe that guy ?” while pointing at Balth. Just, Vinnie being Vinnie and having random one-sided conversations with the bear.

And a little cute thing : while Vinnie really just talked to Dennis because why not, seeing the guy like the teddy bear so much would actually make Balth feel better about himself. I like to believe that grown-up men having plushies would still be seen as a ridiculous thing by most people (because toxic masculinity) and Balth got the habit of hiding Dennis when he was still trying to find the right guy for him. So seeing Vinnie have no issue whatsoever with the teddy bear and even liking him would definitely help Balth’s confidence, along with warming his heart.

- And since this post is all about headcanons : two things about phones and these two being sappy that have nothing to do with houses.

1. One day, Balth left his phone on a table and Vinnie decided to take a selfie with it because why not. After seeing that, Balth acted frustrated but ended up putting the pic as his phone background. Ever since, Balth’s phone background is a picture of Vinnie. The most recent one is from “We’re Going to the Zoo” with a picture of Vinnie holding squirrels in his arms while a third one is coming out of his pistachios-filled pants. The pic on the phone is a closeup, only showing Vinnie’s head and upper body. And for those who like angst, I’ll let you imagine how he must have felt having this as his phone background during the rogue arc.

2. Vinnie’s (numeric) phone password is 2703, aka march 27, the date of his wedding anniversary. The day is put first and the month second because Europe. Also, during busy weeks, this would be a good way for Vinnie to remember the anniversary.

(fun fact : I was trying to come up with scenarios for fics when I ended up thinking about Vinnie’s password and that number came to mind. So I just went “guess that’s their wedding date now”)

[azulirawrites]

Favors of A. Blight ch 3

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,927 (2,910 excluding parentheticals)

Contains: Description of Panic attack and associated thoughts, starting in the second paragraph, mention of death

Edric awoke suddenly, with nothing but a sharp intake of breath. He let his eyes remain closed and relaxed his breathing as he strained his ears. Closest to him, he could hear Emira, still asleep, and took comfort in her presence. Then, just beyond Emira, he could hear Amity’s light snoring. He was half-tempted to summon his scroll so he could record it, and finally prove to her that she did indeed snore, but he quickly dismissed the idea. Then, he heard someone he didn’t recognize, mumbling sleepily. He dared to open eyes, and his breath caught in his throat.

(Warning, depiction of a panic attack in the next six paragraphs)

This wasn’t his room. This wasn’t the manor. Judging by the noises from outside, they weren’t even in Bonesborough, or any city, for that matter. His thoughts began to race, imagining any number of scenarios that could be going. He clenched his eyes shut, and tried to will his breathing to calm. But it wouldn’t, and he could feel his breath escaping in bursts. His eyes hurt, even as he squeezed them shut even tighter, and his ears were ringing and his throat hurt because he couldn’t control his breath. He couldn’t breathe, even though he knew he had to be breathing because he could hear it, he could feel it in his throat but it didn’t matter because he couldn’t breathe and he was going to pass out, or possibly-

“Edric,” a voice. He recognized the voice. It was Emira. She was close. He reached out to her and grabbed. He could feel his heart beating rapidly, and he was sure Emira could too. His face flushed; ashamed. Here they were in an unfamiliar building, and he was useless. Just like mother warned him. He was useless and he couldn’t even do anything to protect his sisters and they were gonna- “Edric, breathe!” Emira said.

“I’m trying!” he wanted to yell, but what came out was more of a mangled gasp. Couldn’t she tell he was doing his best! Even though his best wasn’t good enough, he was trying! He felt something warm running down his face.He couldn’t even fake being alright? Emira was still talking, but he couldn’t hear the words, even though she was right there. She was drowned out by his ragged breathing and the ringing in his ears!

Suddenly, there was someone else at his side; he refused to open his eyes, but he could feel their presence there. He gripped Emira tighter. There was a hand on his shoulder. He clenched his fists, and he swung. And a pained grunt broke through the ringing in his ears and his ragged breathing. He chanced to open his eyes, and saw… Luz? They got Luz too? And she was holding her arm over her stomach? He’d hit Luz? He hadn’t meant to. Luz was nice, he didn’t want to hurt her. More tears slipped down his face.

“Edric,” Luz’s voice managed to cut through, and she was looking at him. “Can you see me?” Of course he could see her! He nodded. “Good. What’s something else you can see?” He looked around, and his eyes landed on Emira. He lifted the arm he was grasping. “Good. Can you focus on Emira while I look through my stuff for something?” He nodded, and turned to look more fully towards his twin, seeing the worry in her eyes. He felt the shame rise in his cheeks. She was worried about him because he couldn’t handle himself. What kind of brother was he? He gripped her tighter as he tried again to get his breathing under control.It was still ragged, but it didn’t hurt as much as it had.

Luz returned, and placed something in his hand, “It’s a fidget cube,” Luz explains, and Edric turns his attention to it. It’s… certainly cube shaped, for the most part. He regards it wearily, moving his thumb on a circular pad on one of the faces, noting that it moved with his thumb. “Can you focus on it for me? See what it does?” He nodded, and focused on the cube as best he could, using his thumb and fingers to manipulate the various sides.

(Descriptions relating to panic attack over)

A few moments later, he realized he wasn’t breathing as hard, and his ears weren’t ringing. His throat and eyes still hurt, and there were still a few tears washing down his face, but he could breathe. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Emira and Luz both hugged him, “Edric what was that?” his sister asked, “Are you okay? You’ve never done that before.”

“I don’t know,” he says, even though he wants to tell her that he’s never had something that bad before.

“I think you had a panic attack?” Luz said, and he turned to her. Emira did too, judging by how she suddenly looked between the two, “It’s a thing, in the Human Realm. My mom gets them sometimes. She says having something physical to focus on and work with helps her with them, and sometimes that’s ADHD toys, or a stress ball, and she also has a mantra that helps. But I happened to find that in some of the junk Eda’s been collecting from trash slugs.” With an exaggerated gag, Edric dropped the toy, causing Luz and Emira to laugh. “Don’t worry,” Luz said, “I made sure to scrub it totally clean! I think I might have used more soap on it than on Hooty last month.”

“That just makes me worry about how clean Hooty is,” Emira joked.

“We try, but,” Luz shuddered, and changed the subject, “Anyway, getting some food and drink will also help, Ed.  So let me wake Amity-”

“I’m awake,” the girl in the blanket burrito said, “but somebody,” Edric knew that if Amity were facing them, she’d be glaring at him and Emira,  “trapped me.”

“Right,” Luz said, “I’ll help with that, and then we’ll go see about breakfast.”

Luz was able to unwrap Amity, and managed to keep her from much more than glaring at the twins as they all got ready to head downstairs. A cursory glance in the living room revealed only King, curled up on the couch, and Hooty missing from the door. Edric was curious about that, but noticed Luz shuddered at the hole and turned away. Better not to ask, he assumed.

Instead, Luz led them to the kitchen, where the group discovered Eda tiredly mixing something in a cauldron. “Morning kids,” she greeted with a yawn.

"Morning Eda!" Luz beamed, "Where did Lilith and Hooty go?"

Eda was silent for a moment, mixing her potion, before she responded, "I'm thinking about expanding the Owl House, so I sent Hooty out with Lilith a few hours ago so he could shop around at the construction coven. Because for SOME reason he doesn't trust me to make the expansions any more."

"Expansions? I thought the Owl House was just… like this?" Luz questioned.

"House demons don't usually take to expansions well," Edric commented, "Is Hooty different?"

"I'd need more hands if I was gonna list how Hooty's different," Eda commented, "but you're right that house demons don't usually like expansions. But it's not because they prefer growing naturally or anything. It's because most witches only care for what they want, not what the house demon wants. Design, functionality, floor plans, even what materials are used. That ends up choking the house demon until they decide to just tear down the offending bit."

"That's," Luz commented, "kind of sad."

"Yeah. It's why house demons are a lot less popular now. Most witches don't know anything about compromise. All you have to do is work with and trust your house demon, and they'll be more than happy to let you expand them."

"Most house demons also can't remove themselves from the house without dying?" Edric questioned curiously. Eda gestured towards the living room, the hole in the door clearly visible. "I mean, how is it Hooty can just leave, when most house demons can't?"

"Hooty has experience and I have know-how," Eda commented, "There's a reason they call me the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles.How come you know so much about house demons anyway?"

Edric felt his face heat up as he mumbled his answer, “I’ve been looking at them for when I get my own place.”

“Huh,” Eda commented, “Didn’t expect that. Well, tell you what, if Hooty ends up meeting a nice shack, I’ll tell you where they leave the egg.” Eda laughed, and Edric cracked a small smile at the offer

(Line Break)

Lilith was tired. Well, that wasn’t exactly true; she and Eda had each whipped up an invigorating potion to make up for the night of lost sleep, so she was more than awake. She was just processing. There was… a lot to process. Hooty seemed to recognize this; he’d draped himself over her shoulders, and seemed to be doing his best to comfort her. She patted his head, and decided to make idle conversation, “What kind of rooms are you thinking about getting, Hootsifer?”

“At least four bedrooms, and a bathroom. And a library! Luz and the angry one like books, and I’ve always wanted to be a smart, sophisticated house! Or I could play up my fun loving nature and get a rec room! Or an indoor pool!”

“Those all sound quite lovely,” she placed her hand on his hand and patted him gently, “but an outdoor pool would attract more bugs, don’t you think?”

Hooty gasped, “You’re so smart Lulu! It would be like a stew and I could drink it whenever!” She laughed, and continued to pet her friend for a while, until they arrived at a shop operated by the Construction Coven.

“What can I do you for?” Asked the burly witch behind the counter.

“Good morning ma’am,” Lilith greeted, “My sister is looking to expand her home. Have you by chance heard of the Owl House?”

“Heard of it?” The witch guffawed, “The place is a legend in the Construction Coven! No one knows who built it, or how they managed to get one of the most violent house demons known to witch kind to cooperate!”

“I’m not that violent!” Hooty complained, causing the witch, who likely hadn’t realized Hooty was more than an accessory, to scream. “I’m a caring and gentle soul!”

“You’re the Owl House house demon?” the witch seemed afraid, and was backing away from them.

“Yep! I’m Hooty! And this,” he took a moment to wrap Lilith in a hug, “is my best friend, Lulu!”

“Pleasure to meet you,” the witch managed to stutter out, “but it's a coven policy we don’t do work on house demons.” The witch let out a nervous laugh, “Sorry about that.”

“Ah, but I thought you guys wanted to know all about me!” Hooty complained, drooping.

“Yes,” Lilith said, hiding a smirk as an idea presented itself, “It really is a shame they’ll never learn the secret to working on house demons. Especially ones that want at least six new rooms, and a pool. It’s a shame to think we’ll have to keep all that knowledge, and money, to ourselves. I imagine all that could put someone in line for coven head.”

“I know you’re playing me,” the witch acknowledged, timidly, “but you’re right.” The witch, reluctantly, began to guide them around the story. They spent, by Lilith’s count, at least two hours in the store, talking about different woods and stones, with a promise that the witch would come by that afternoon to begin the actual project.

In another hour, following a quick stop at one of the new chain-restaurants that had been popping up recently,  they returned to the Owl House, the mid-morning sun shining brightly. “Could you get the door?” Lilith asked, gesturing with her head, as her arms were occupied by a number of sacks, and at least one box. She hoped she had gotten enough food for breakfast. Hooty obliged, opening the door, before grabbing a number of sacks from her with his beak, extending towards the kitchen.

Carefully, she sat down what she still carried, and removed the backpack Hooty resided in, setting it on the floor. She picked up what she still had to carry, and made her way to the kitchen as Hooty returned. She did her best to ignore the sounds behind her, closing the door to the living room once she made it through.

She was greeted by everyone’s faces, as she entered, save Eda who was focused intently on downing her apple blood.’Good morning,” she greeted.

“Yeah yeah, it’s morning. Are we going to eat already?” King responded before anyone else, and Lilith sighed.

“Of course, King,” Lilith said, placing the box on the table and opening it to reveal a large assortment of pastries, most of which had a notable yellow filling.

“Oooh!” called King, “Slitherbeast claws!” as he scampered across the table to grab two of the paw shaped treats.He held them up in either hand, and let out a roar. Lilith noted, as did King judging by his “Weh?” that everyone else at the table blanched. Thankfully, after a moment, Luz let out a small laugh, which seemed to satisfy the young demon.

When King had made his way back to his seat, Emira spoke, “We aren’t normally allowed sweets for breakfast.”

“Since when has that stopped us?” Edric asked, having already absconded with a number of tarts.

“Since it’s being allowed,” she said, looking carefully at Lillith. Edric, for what it was worth, put down the tart he had just been about to bite into, though kept it in front of him.

“Emira’s right,” Amity said, making a quick show of disgust at the words, “Our parents would never allow this.”

“That’s what makes this sweeter,” Edric replied, before Lilith could get a word in. He took a bite, adding, “Besides, it’s thornberry!”

“Doesn’t this strike you as a little odd?” Emira almost pleaded with her brother.

“Yeah,” he answered, “Dad sent us out in the middle of a boiling rain storm, to have us stay overnight, at the house of two of the formerly most wanted-”

“Hey!” Eda attempted to interrupt, though didn’t manage to stop Edric’s speech.

“-individuals in the Boiling Isles, with not so much as a message from Mom since yesterday morning. So yeah, it’s a little odd.” There was a small bite to Edric’s voice, and it was apparently unusual, judging by how both Emira and Amity reacted to it, “So let’s just enjoy some pastries before the other shoe drops. Please.”

“Is Edric right?” Emira asked, turning to Lilith, who weighed her two choices in her mind. Either say yes, and risk freaking out Emira, Amity, and possibly Luz, or saying no, and making it hurt more later.

“Yeah, mostly.” Eda made the decision for her, “Except I’m still topping the wanted charts.” Lilith noted Emira looking to Edric, and then Amity, with concern, before wordlessly grabbing a few pastries for herself. Amity followed her siblings’ lead, and then so did Luz, leaving Eda and Lilith to split the rest, as Lilith took her own seat at the table.

The breakfast passed slowly in the silence, and there was an unmistakable tension in the room. King finished first, and Lilith noted that he was exceptionally quick to leave the room. Luz finished next, followed by Eda, and then Edric, Emira and Amity. Lilith set down her remaining pastry. “There has been some… upsetting news.” When the children all remained silent, even Luz. “Luz, could you go make sure King isn’t getting into anything?”

“No,” Amity refused, quickly grabbing Luz by the arm as she tried to stand, “Please, stay.” Wordlessly, Luz sat back down, gripping Amity’s hand in an attempt to comfort her.

“Very well,” Lilith said, “Right… Last night, your father sent you to us, even though it was a rather brutal rain storm. “ Emira was the first one to nod in acknowledgement, followed by Edric. “And there was a reason for that.”

After a moment of silence, Eda spoke, “Odalia saw that there was going to be an attack at the manor yesterday.” Lilith almost spoke up, but Eda continued after giving the children a second to digest the news, “She didn’t think you guys were gonna get hurt, but she didn’t want to risk it, so she had Alador send you kids somewhere no one would think to look for you.”

“Oh,” the twins managed to chorus, and Lilith noted Amity squeezing Luz’s hand tightly as she tried to keep her expression neutral.

Lilith picked up the silence, “This morning, I passed the manor. The wards had been undone, and… there were already guards and members of the Oracle coven investigating.” It was silent, as the children stared at her with the almost blank looks that Lilith knew meant ‘Please don’t say what you’re going to say.’ But it was too late now. “Your father…. Wasn’t found in the building’s remains.” What went unspoken, but very clearly heard, was that their mother had been.

“Excuse me,” Amity said, her voice barely holding together, before she got up from the table and ran back to the room she and her twins had spent the previous night in. The twins followed suit, leaving only Lilith, Eda, and Luz at the table. After a small eternity, Luz said, “I’m going to go check on them.”

[honeypirate]

Figure it Out part five

Hinawa x fem reader

Masterlist

The one where stuff happens and the mission isn’t canon I’m just excited to finish the next part where reader is alone for a week lol

this one is longer and more fluffy

Warning- swears.

You groan and hold your throbbing side gingerly, you change into your jumpsuit and tie the sleeves around your waist, leaving on Hinawa’s shirt. you grab one of your pills and your water and slip out the door, following behind the others.

“I like your shirt” he says, voice quiet so only you hear it as he appears behind you. He must have left his room shortly after the time you left yours. you smile and look down, your cheeks flushing “thank you, I think it looks good on me. It belongs to a very amazing man I know.” you say quietly back, your heart fluttering at his chuckle. “I’m sure he enjoys seeing you in it very much” you don’t know when he got so bold, was it because of this morning in bed? You weren't complaining tho, it felt nice to flirt with him a little more obviously.

“Well, he’s my best friend, so if he likes seeing me in his clothes he should tell me.” you whisper back and send a smile over your shoulder as you reach the right door, he opens it for you and you smile in thanks, as you walk past him he leans in to your ear and whispers “I love it” you grin, your cheeks flushing again and your arms getting goosebumps. You sit down at the table and he makes his way over to Obi, who’s pretending like he didn’t see your interaction and trying to pretend like it didn’t make him happy. He was scribbling notes about it to tell everyone later (you guys are like the romance soap opera of the company everyone’s watching and waiting)

You take your pill and set your water on the table, when you look up to Hinawa it’s then you know the mission is big. His face looks grim. You frown and your eyebrows furrow as you wait for the meeting to start.

The mission is in the Chinese peninsula. And you’re not invited. You sigh, you would be invited but since you can’t go because you’re injured, you’re on house sitting duty. You make a mental note to write a letter to your grandma for them to deliver. The seventh, you were told, would be around to help if any infernals come along.

The rest of your day passed slowly, everyone else had things to do to prepare but you couldn’t do anything in your condition. You do some paperwork and write your letters before deciding to just stay out of the way, grabbing a book from your room you head to the roof to at least enjoy the sunshine.

You sit on the roof with your back against the wall, your legs crossed, the warm sun on your face warming the coldness you felt in your soul.

You read your book until the sun began to set, but when you tried to get up, the strain made your wound hurt and pulled at your stitches. You winced as you kept trying, maybe if you could get your knees under you, but everything you tried pulled it and made you whine. When you ultimately gave up, you were panting from the pain and you still didn’t know if you could get up by yourself.

You huffed and tried to think of a plan, do you just wait for someone to find you? Should you try to get someone’s attention? Call for help? You sighed with relief when the door opened

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you” Hinawa said as he came over to where you were sitting, he watched as the panic in your eyes gave way to relief as you looked up at him “do you wanna sit with me for a moment?” You ask with a smile and he nods, when he settles in beside you his hand reaches out to rest against your thigh and you lace your fingers through his, laying your head on his shoulder.

“Sorry if I worried you.” you say and he chuckles softly, relishing the feel of your cheeks warmed from the sun against his shoulder, he squeezes your hand before bringing it to his lips “I’m glad you’re okay” he says as he kisses your knuckles. your cheeks flushed and you chuckled softly “I don’t know if I’m that okay...I can’t get up now, it pulls my stitches” he sighs softly, not in annoyance just a soft sound conveying how grateful he was to find you so you didn’t hurt yourself. He doesn’t say anything, just turns to kiss your head.

“You leave in the morning?” You ask, your voice quiet. “Yes” he says, and his grip on your hand tightens slightly “will you stay with me again tonight?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper, afraid that if you asked any louder it would give away how worried you were that he’d say....

“No” he said and you lifted your head and tensed for a moment before he turned his head towards you with a chuckle “we’re staying in my bigger bed, remember?” You gasp and laugh raising your other hand and slapping his chest lightly as he laughs, reaching up with his other hand to cup your cheek.

“So we’ll stay together tonight?” You ask, he could see the worry in your eyes and he leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours “stay with me tonight.” he says and your cheeks flush, your heart fluttering against your ribs. Your hand moves from his chest to rest against the back of his neck, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair.

He sighs, a soft comforting sound, before pulling back to look at you again, smiling at the sight. Your pupils were slightly dilated and you had the softest of smiles, it made his heart squeeze to see the blush on your beautiful cheeks. He smiles, a soft pleased chuckle falling from his lips before he’s leaning down to bring his lips a breadth away from yours, you suck in a slow gasp your hand moving to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing across his skin as you close the distances, your lips brushing his just slightly before pulling back, your heart rising in your chest as it races. “There you guys are!” Maki says from the doorway and you’re both scrambling away from each other.

You groan, your hand moving to hold your side as you wince, your eyes closing as you breathe through your teeth. “Obi’s called another meeting” she says and then she’s gone again, feeling uncomfortable about catching you guys basically kissing. “Guess we should go” you say, your voice strained and eyes screwed shut as you wait for the pain to subside. This line, the line that you have been dancing around for days, the unspoken feelings that were obvious to everyone, would have to wait. Again.

He stands and crouches next to you, gently moving your hand to see the wet patch of blood seeping through the dark shirt. Your eyes pop open and meet his as you raise a blood smeared finger at him “this isn’t because I laughed so you have to keep your promise still” he chuckles “let’s go” he says, kicking himself for being part of the reason you were bleeding again and easily lifts you to his arms, your hands moving to wrap around his neck to keep you stable.

He doesn’t set you down on your feet like you expect, he instead keeps you in his arms as he opens the door, carrying you down to his room instead of to the meeting. He sets you down on the edge of his bed and gestures to your shirt as he grabs the first aid kit and another one of his shirts, laying them both beside you on the bed.

You move your hand up to hold your neck, just so your arm could be out of the way as he cleaned you up and rebandaged you. “Hey what’s that?” You ask, your voice quiet. “What?” His eyes look to you before following your eyes to the corner of his room, landing on a brand new guitar. “Oh. That was your surprise that I forgot to give you since we were in the hospital” you gasp “you got me a guitar?” You whisper and finishes placing the tape on the bandage before pulling back and looking in your eyes “I wanted to hear you play it” you smile and cup his cheek “so it’s just purely selfish reasons why you got me a gift?” You tease and he chuckles, his fingers resting softly on your side under your bandage. “My selfish desperation to make you smile” he whispers, worry and hope both fighting in his eyes.

He pulls back to shake out his folded shirt, holding it up for you to slip your arms into. You blush and look down and as you allow him to help you dress again, feeling safe and taken care of. “Thank you” you whisper as he finishes pulling it down, you look up into his eyes and hope he sees exactly what youre feeling. Safe, comforted, cared for, loved. Hope he saw how truly grateful you were to have him taking care of you. How much you wanted to kiss him properly. He tucks your hair behind your ear with a single nod, “you’re welcome. We should get to the meeting” you take his waiting hand and stand “can’t make the lieutenant be late” you say with a laugh and he sighs softly with a smile. He was terrified of how good you make him feel, but he couldn’t help but run headfirst towards that.

“Okay. So let’s go over the plan again. everyone excluding Hinawa, Y/n because her injury, and me, are heading to the Chinese peninsula in the morning. Hinawa and I will be leaving shortly after to stay in the First to complete our mission on finding more out about Amaterasu. We will all come back here in a week. While we’re gone,Y/n, you’re in charge here. Vulcan will walk you through the surveillance equipment and alarm systems. I will have coms on us where you can reach us if it’s an emergency or if there are any infernals.If there are any infernals call the seventh they are prepared to help. If anything else happens you call the coms we have and Hinawa and I will come running ” you nod and swallow, not looking forward to having a week alone in this giant place, but you had no other choice. You nod at him and he goes through more details that you tuned out, chewing your lip as you sit there worrying. Hinawa watching you from the corner of his eyes, seeing the load of worry on your face made acid rise to the back of his throat since he couldn’t comfort you here. His hands on his lap pick at his cuticles as he participates in the meeting.

You exit the meeting first, slowly making your way down to your bedroom, your side throbbing has become worse as your medication wears off. Hinawa watches you leave but he was to do a few more things before he has to make dinner so he couldn’t follow.

You sit on the edge of your bed and sigh softly as you stare at the edge of your water glass, a drop slowly making its way back to the bottom after your drink, the pill still slowly sliding your throat and sticking. You take a another drink

“Hey can I talk to you?” Maki says as she knocks against your open door. You look up and smile, forcing your worry back. “of course. Come in” you say and she nods nervously and sits across from you at your desk chair. “What’s up?” You ask and she sighs, looking at the floor by your feet as her words come out rushed “I’m sorry for ruining your moment with the Lieutenant on the roof I feel so bad” you let out a few shocked laughs and she looks at you with raised eyebrows “Don’t worry about it Maki! Seriously.” You smile and she relaxes a little, letting out a breath. “Plus, I don’t even know if we know what’s happening yet. It’s new. But uhh.. have you told anyone else?” She shakes her head “no I haven’t” (she has. She’s told everyone. You’re the news in the company) you laugh “good. I just. It could turn out to be nothing at all. So I’d appreciate if it stayed between us for now. Maybe I could talk to you again when you get back? I could use a good girls night. We should do that when you all get back!” You reach out and pat her knee as she beams excitedly “of course totally... And yes that would be so fun! I’ll let the other girls know!”

A knock to your door frame makes you look over and you smile when you see him “Do you think you help me in the kitchen for a moment y/n?” Hinawa asks and you nod “of course. I’ll be right there.” He nods and waits in the hall as you say goodbye to Maki.

“Are you okay?” He asks once you’re by his side, Maki going in the other direction. “I’ll be okay” you say and he reaches over, taking your hand and placing it on the inside of his bicep as you walk together. A small act that warmed your heart and comforted you, making your cheeks flush. “Are you okay?” You ask back, looking up at him with a small smile as he holds the kitchen door open for you. “I’m always okay with you by my side” he whispers into your ear as you pass and it sends goosebumps down your neck. “Cheesy” you say with a laugh as he grabs the aprons. Placing one on himself before putting an apron around your head, leaning close as he reaches under your arms to gently tie the strings behind you. “But seriously” you say, placing your hand on his chest.

He places his hand on yours and smiles softly with a sigh “I worry more about you” he says softly and you blush “I promise I’ll be okay” you whisper with a smile and he kisses your forehead before turning towards the ingredients he has laid out already. “Consider this the Princess giving the Prince a week off of worrying about her” you say with a chuckle as you begin to cut up vegetables.

He coughs once as he feels his face flush, he almost forgot about the story he told you. He’s glad you’re not looking at the way he knows his face is red. “I don’t think that’s possible for this Prince” he whispers after a moment and you laugh softly before leaning over and kissing his shoulder on the seam of his t-shirt.

You don’t talk for the rest of the cooking, you both knew you just wanted to be close to each other before you’d be apart. Neither of you could admit that yet though, not confident in the new feelings, not ready to cross that line fully, especially now that you have to be apart for a week.

You hummed for the most part, different songs you could think of, melodies that brought Hinawa a sense of calm as he cooked beside you. If he closed his eyes he could see the years that you might have together, and that terrified the hell out of him.

Dinner was filled with laughter and conversation like always. Your little found family always makes your heart warm. You soaked in as much as you could, holding on to it all so you didn’t get too lonely while you were alone for the coming week.

You shower that night, gingerly washing your wound and letting the warm water soothe you. You put on some cotton black shorts and slowly slipped on a black sports bra that zips up the front before leaving the bathroom and knocking on Hinawa’s door. “Come in” he says and you pop your head through, your towel around your hair wobbling a little “can you bandage me up?” You ask and he laughs before standing from his desk, his bag that he was packing half packed with more contents around it. “Of course”

You sit on his bed again, reaching up to unwrap your hair as he comes over with the stuff. you hold up your arm again and he quickly patches you up “you’re so gentle with me” you whisper as he covers you with a bandage. His hands pause for a moment, his cheeks flushing as he pulls back into a crouch to look into your eyes “always” he whispers then tucks your damp hair behind your ear.

“Do you want a shirt?” He asks and you blush and reach out, placing a hand on his chest, looking at your fingertips as they trace the neckline “can I … have this one?” You whisper, your heart beat hammering so loud you’re sure it’s audible to even him. He chuckles softly and goes to stand but you follow him, standing in front of him you place your hands on his waist, your thumbs reaching under his hem as your palms rest against his belt. You search his eyes to see if he objects to you taking his shirt off but you find none, he smiles, his cheeks dusting pink, and nods.

Your fingers slide softly up his sides, sending goosebumps across his chest and back, as you push his shirt up. You bite your lip as his chest and stomach become bare, a soft sigh passing your lips as you pull the shirt softly over his head.

He takes his shirt from your hands and places it over your head, helping you slip it over your arms, his hands stopping and squeezing gently on your hips. You lean forward and place your hands on his chest, leaning your cheek on his shoulder as he wraps his arms around you.

“Can I … can I sleep in your bed while you’re gone?” You ask and he chuckles against you “I wish you would” he says and kisses the top of your head. You turn your head and place your lips softly against his skin over his heart. Your arms wrap around his waist under his arms as you hold him as close as you can get him, hoping he can feel how much you don’t want to be alone this next week.

You bury your face in his neck and it smells like hint of sweat and his cologne, smelled ultimately like Hinawa to you and you loved it. You took a deep breath and sighed against him. “I should shower. I probably smell” he mumbles against you and you chuckle “no. You don’t. But you should because it’s getting late.” You pull back and cup his cheek for a moment, smiling at the blush that touched his cheeks. He cups your cheek for a moment, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip slowly and gently, making your heart flutter before he drops his hand “I’ll be right back” he says and you nod, moving over to place your towel across the back of his chair as he moves to grab clean clothes.

“You know” Obi says as Hinawa walks into the bathroom “we could just take her with us” Hinawa sighs “we could, but objectively we need someone here” nothing else was said about that or about the fact that Hinawa didn’t deny he was worried about you, or that Obi could tell he cares for you.

Hinawas bed had tan sheets and a black comforter, it was soft and warm and when you crawled into it you sighed in relief at how nice it was. It was a million times more comfortable than your bed. You almost stayed under the covers but you remembered your surprise and you popped back up, ignoring the slight stabbing of pain in your side as you snatch it up and drop down to sit cross legged on the floor.

The strings felt familiar in your hands and the chords came back to your memory easily. Slowly picking out the song you used to play over and over when you were first learning. You hum through the first line as you try to remember the words. Stopping and restarting strumming when you remember them “Could've been one lonely night. Just like the others. But you lit up my life. This is what it's like to be lovers” He smiles outside of his door, the sound of guitar strings being plucked and you soft voice reaching his ears before he even opens the door.

“You and me need never be lonely again Spin with me endlessly or at least until the end Please never fall in love again Oh, please never fall in love again”When he opens his door he smiles at the sigh of you sitting in his room playing a soft song with a sweet smile. You stopped playing and looked up at him when he walked in “are you ready for bed?” You ask and he nods “you play and sing beautifully. I hope you’ll play for me when I get back” you blush and place a hand on your cheek shyly “of course” he takes the guitar from your hands and places it back on its stand before gently scooping you up into his arms as you laugh “sorry I forgot I shouldn’t sit in the ground” you whisper and he smiles “I don’t mind”

He places you in his bed and then crawls in behind you, pulling the blankets up to your shoulders as he claps his hands gently, his lamp turning off.

You wait for a moment, then burst into laughter, trying so hard to stop as your hand reaches over to cup your side as your whole body tensed to try and not die in the pain that’s shooting across your ribs but the pain and groans don’t stop the laughter

When you calm down you reach behind you to him and cup his cheek “you have a clapper?!” You say with a small chuckle “you’re a grandpa” he puts on a fake scowl but his blushing cheeks and the way his hand reaches to rest against your hip tells him a different story. “It’s efficient” is all he says as he moves his body to be pressed up against you, his head down by your shoulder. “Also. That was strike two” he whispers and kisses the side of your neck, sighing into you.

Your top foot moves back to rest between his calves, your hand moving to brush against his hand on your hip. His fingers start to draw small patterns against your skin, moving underneath your shirt. You sigh reaching up to cup his cheek and he moves his head closer, your fingers playing with his hair. “Hinawa” you whisper, “I wanna see you” he chuckles softly, brushing his lips softly across your neck before he moves gently, easily crawling over you and bringing the blankets up again before you pull yourself into his chest, wrapping one of your legs over his thigh as he moves his thigh between yours. “Yes” you whisper as you reach up, cupping his cheeks and his hand wraps around to rest against your back. “We should sleep” you mumble as you look into his eyes. “Yes” he agrees but doesn’t close his eyes, just starts tracing patterns against your back.

“Hinawa” you whisper and he hums in response. The feeling in your heart is heavy, but you can’t seem to find the right words. You love him. But your mouth can’t seem to form the syllables. You lean forward, your nose brushing against his and he sighs, the smell of minty mouthwash filling the air as your hand buries in the hair at the nape of his neck. You lean as far forward as you can, your lips almost touching as you look into his eyes, watching to see if he will kiss you or shut you down.

His hand moves up to cup your cheek and you whimper softly, a sound he barely heard but once he did he was smashing his lips to yours.

His hand moves to bury in your hair as he presses his lips to yours hungrily, a soft moan escaping when he licks your bottom lip. You melt into him as he holds your head gently, his thumb softly moving back and forth as his tongue slowly massages yours. He grunts softly when you bite his bottom lip, your hand moving to grip his shoulder as he sucks on your tongue gently before biting your lip and pulling back before pressing his lips against yours again again and again chucking when your tongue fights against his, wrapping around his as you sucked softly, your thighs tightening around his thigh making him moan softly against your mouth. This line, the line that you have been dancing around for days, the unspoken feelings that were obvious to everyone. God it feels so good to finally be across that line.

Your kisses were both desperate and needy, when you pulled away he pressed his forehead against yours, both panting with your eyes closed. Your hand had rested against his neck, your other had been pressed against his chest this whole time. His hand was under your shirt, flat against your back and drawing small patterns against your skin.

His hand slides down your spine and you clench your legs together, a soft whimper leaving your lips making him chuckle. “We should go to sleep, have to get up early” he says, so serious you pull back and search his eyes for a moment, the small teasing smirk on his lips as he looks at your shocked expression and you laugh, rolling your eyes “alright alright, if you want to ruin the moment” You say trying to scooch away but he laughs, holding you close to him. “I don’t want to ruin the moment. Not at all. But you need to heal up. I don’t want to hurt you” he whispers and you still in his arms. “You’re so responsible” you whisper in a teasing tone against his chest and he laughs “I L-“ he stops, the words getting caught in his throat. He almost said it. Almost just told you he loved you. And it felt so easy. So simple. So perfect and right. You pulled back and looked up into his shocked eyes “are you okay?” You ask and brush your fingers against his cheek. “Yeah I’m fine. Sorry. I don’t know what I was saying.” You lean up, softly pressing your lips to his for a moment before sighing and cuddling in to him. “It’s okay” you whisper as you reach up, holding the back of his head as you play with his hair. It was such a small act that brought him so much comfort he never even realized he could experience. His eyes burned with tears as he cradled you close to him. He should just tell you. But he can’t make his mouth say the words.

“Is it stupid that I’m going to miss you?” You whisper and he chuckles “no. No it’s not” he says and sighs “I promise, I’m going to miss you” he whispered back and you held him a little tighter “good. That makes me happy” he laughs and yawns “you make me happy” he says, the honest truth. As close to confessing as he can bring himself in this moment. You kiss his neck “you make me happy” you whisper as you moved his shirt, sucking on his collarbone and biting a little. Leaving a little mark you hoped would last him a week, hoped it would remind him of you. “So you don't forget me” you whisper with a soft half laugh, your side still hurting from laughing at his clapper. He laughs and scoots down, nuzzling his face into your neck making you laugh with how it tickles before you slowly melt into a moan as he sucks a spot against your neck.

He kisses the tingling skin then kisses your cheek “I won’t forget you, kitten. It’s only a week” you grip his shoulder and then cup his cheek, pulling his face up so you could kiss him, hoping he felt the love you want to give him.

The sound of his alarm woke you and you groaned. “I take this as a physical attack” you say and he laughs, pressing the button and ending the beeping. He turns and kisses your lips softly, just a good morning peck because he couldn’t think of anything more normal. You sigh and hold him for a moment “you’ll be safe?” You whisper and he laughs softly “of course” you nod “good” he turns his face into your neck “you’ll be okay?” He asks and you chuckle, trying not to sound worried as you say “of course. I’m tough remember?” he laughs and pulls back, brushing your noses together.

He claps and his lamp turns on, making you chuckle again at the look he gives you, ignoring the pain you feel. He gets up and puts everything left on the desk in the bag and zips it up before grabbing his clothes. He turns to you “close your eyes” he smirks and you chuckle before groaning and covering your eyes with your hand. “No peeking” he adds with a chuckle and you laugh “awww” you tease and he laughs “okay fine. I guess you can peek” he says and you move your fingers, opening one eye and making eye contact through the gap as he pulls up his pants all the way, his biceps twitching as he buttoned and zipped making you bite your knuckle. “come back to bed please” you say breathlessly and he laughs, his heart squeezing in his chest as he looks at you, your hair messy from sleep, his shirt on your body, perfect. Breathtaking. “Be patient kitten. I don’t want to hurt you” he says with a gentle smile and you get up, walking over to him and kissing his chest. “I know. But do you.. do you feel the same?” You look up at him with your chin against his chest and he sighs with a laugh “you have no idea.” he says, his eyebrows furrowed as he brushes his knuckles against your cheek. You smile and run your fingers through his hair as a knock to his door signals ten minutes. You smile “I’ll see you down there Lieutenant” his heart squeezes in his chest. Tell her you fool. He thinks but he can’t. Fuck he loves you so much. He lets you walk to his door, watches as you wink when you close it behind you. Fuck he loves you.

He catches you by the door to the garage and pulls you into the side storage closet “cutting it a little close here Lieutenant” you whisper with a slight chuckle and he rolls his eyes before he brushes his lips against yours. Your heart beams as your skin tingles you both taste like minty toothpaste and you whimper against his lips when he pulls back. “Needy” he says and you frown and mumble “god you don’t know the half of it” against his lips. you watch his jaw tense as he swallows hard when he pulls back“Don’t hesitate to call if anything, ANYTHING, happens. We will come back. The mission is important but you are more so. Understand?” He says and you nod “yes sir. You protect yourself, protect Obi. Be smart like I know you are” he nods “anything for you” he says with another kiss and then he’s opening the closet door and exiting, then you’re watching them drive off and sighing into the silence. “Guess it’s just you and me HQ” you mumble as you close the door to the garage.

[royalcordelia]

Summary: Anne and Gilbert embark on their journeys, but stay close to each other at heart. Courting across 1000 miles isn't easy, but they're more than willing to step up to the task. (A post s3 story).

Notes: Hope you all are staying safe and healthy out there. As always, tag list is down at the bottom. ♥

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Chapter 7 ~ Oh My Heart, How Can I Face You Now?

Anne fit in so well at the Sunset House that it was easy to forget she’d only been there less than a day. With a keen intuition, she knew exactly where to find things in the odd drawers and shelves around the kitchen as Ron held out his non-cooking hand. 

“Three eggs! The milk jug! A serving spoon!” 

“Aye aye, Captain,” Anne replied each time, dutifully helping her new friend prepare their first breakfast together. “I still wish you would’ve let me make breakfast. It’s the least I can do after I showed up entirely unannounced. Besides, Gilbert has had my cooking before, but I’ve never cooked for him.”

“Stuff and nonsense,” shot Ron. “If anything, Gil should be the one cooking for you . After all, it’s only polite to make a woman a meal after she’s spent a night in your bed. Especially when he snores.” 

“Ron! I didn’t-...He doesn’t snore! ”

“But alas, Gilbert’s breakfast skills leave so much to be desired, even if they are improving. Poor man makes the same recipes over and over again - his sister-in-law’s from this tiny notebook he’s copied them down in. If it wasn’t for her, he’d still be eating bland vegetables and overcooked pork.”

 Even Anne’s laughter sounded familiar bouncing off the cream walls and brightening the quiet Saturday morning. Above their heads, the running water of Gilbert’s bath kept the room from becoming completely silent. 

Ron found that it wasn’t a lack of things to say that caused his own stillness, but rather, a strange desire to open his entire heart to her. He supposed that was the danger with people who were so easy to like, so easy to talk to. The words fizzed in his throat, and if he moved even an inch, they’d pour out. This is silly, he thought. What’s there to lose?

“Anne,” he began out of the blue. She snapped the gaze away from the autumn-crowned tree outside the window she’d been daydreaming with, joining reality once more and smiling her encouragement. “I’m absolutely, without a doubt one to make assumptions.” 

Having read as much, and more, in Gilbert’s letters, she replied, “I’m not sure that’s always a bad thing. Your assumptions have to be correct some of the time.” 

Ron shifted in his seat, making sure he could hear Gilbert still in the bath upstairs. 

“And if I were to assume you’re a nonjudgmental sort of person, would I be correct then?” 

“I very much try to be,” she offered. 

Ron’s gaze fell to the wall where a small sized portrait of him and Christine was hung across the room. Why would it be easier to say this Anne than it ever would be to say to Chris?  

“There’s this tradition,” he began slowly. “Whenever the science department hosts its autumn banquet at the Meryton Hotel, it empties the basement of all its ornate tables and chairs, leaving it completely empty. That’s not the tradition part - what I mean is, the students who aren’t smart or rich enough to go to the banquet ultimately end up working the event, but then they sneak away to host their own party in the basement. Their own dancing, their own music, their own drinks.” 

“That sounds like fun,” Anne responded honestly.

“The only reason I know about it is because, um, Adam told me about it.” 

“Who’s Adam?” 

Ron couldn’t bring himself to say it. Either that, or he couldn’t find the words to articulate everything it meant. Every ounce of shame and every speechless moment of awe that being with Adam brought was caught in his throat waiting to be spoken. His eyes had glazed over, focused on a patch of flour spilled on the counter, though his mind was miles away. Nudging his arm with hers, she leaned over and drew a smile face into the flour. 

“It’s always been women and men for me. I don’t know why,” he admitted aloud. The words loved the air they took, and Anne didn’t reject them. Instead, she only smiled. 

“A secret for a secret, Ron Stuart,” she replied just as quietly. “I’m the same way.” 

Anne was much shorter than him, and when she met his gaze head on, he saw the gold of her eyelashes. 

“Does Gilbert know?” 

She shrugged. “He might, but I’ve never said it. I don’t suppose it would make much of a difference to him. I can tell there isn’t a bit of me he doesn’t love, even the parts of me that he doesn’t know yet.” Wiping a bit of flour off of his sleeve, she added, “And he’s not the only one out there who loves unconditionally.”

“You think there’s hope for me yet?” Ron said, half teasing. 

“Ron, I have every hope for you,” Anne said seriously. The man’s protective smile fell and his eyes turned glassy.

Gilbert chose this moment to come leaping down the stairs two at a time in a way that was so distinctly Gilbert, that a warm smile lifted on Anne’s cheeks. He heaved a blissful sigh upon entering the kitchen, carrying with him the smell of freshness and soap. The tips of his hair were still damp, but it didn’t stop him from wrapping his arms around Anne’s waist from behind and leaning his chin on her shoulder.

“Good morning, Anne-girl.” 

“Good morning to you too...again.” He smiled against her cheek. “That soap smells familiar,” she commented off handedly, laughing when he kissed her blush. 

“That’s because Marilla sent it.” 

“Marilla?”

“Along with fresh socks, a ream of paper, and some of her preserves.” 

“She never sends me anything!” 

“Sweetheart, you live less than an hour away from Avonlea! You probably live right next door to the post office she mailed the parcel from!” 

He was right, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. 

“Besides, it was only once,” he added. Then, taking in the atmosphere of the room, he released Anne and sat down at the table. “Did I miss something important?” 

Ron schooled his features, looking for something useful to say but coming up flat. 

“A very important, very serious debate on adequate breakfast food,” Anne filled in. “Gilbert, you’re a medical student. Tell Ron that plain toast is not nearly adequate enough sustenance for breakfast. Omelets aren’t just for when guests are around.” 

“I could tell him that, but then I’d be a hypocrite.” 

“Toast is one of the only breakfast foods he can make, poor lad,” Ron interjected. “And even then, he burns it half of the time.” 

“Hmm, kind of like that?” Gilbert said slyly, pointing down to the pan where a piece of brown bread was burnt black and smoking against the skillet. Ron rolled his eyes, sticking his spatula under the bread and flinging it at his roommate. Gilbert caught the bread and hissed at how hot it was, flinging it onto the counter where it promptly slid into the sink. 

“I’m starting to get a sense of what daily life is like with you two,” Anne laughed. “Ron, something tells me you’d get along swimmingly with Bash.” 

*

Toronto had more wonders than Anne could count. In one short afternoon, Gilbert had taken her to roam the histories of the art museum and smell the sweetness of the botanical garden, but not excluded from these marvels was the Stuart Estate. Ron led the way as dirt streets became pristine brick, and small houses turned into domineering manors of stateliness. The working class of Toronto was but a mile away, but Anne felt like she’d stepped into another country - a wealthier, more outstanding country.

“His parents live here? Have you ever been to his their home before?” Anne whispered to Gilbert as Roy said a passing hello to someone on the street. Gilbert shook his head, just as awed by the grandeur around them. 

“I knew he was wealthy, but not this wealthy.” 

“My apologies,” Ron said, returning to the group. “You were saying, Anne?”

“Oh! Well, the conservatory botanist was actually watching the child tear off the flowers from the corner of the room, and when he came roaring over, I thought the mother would perish on the spot.” 

“So Anne, being Anne, rushes over to them,” Gilbert added. 

“And I picked up all the flowers from the ground while the man was getting ready to whip the poor child. A few moments later, I was placing a flower crown atop his head. All I said to him was, ‘Forgive this imaginative child, oh king of the gardens’, and his anger died away.”

“You’ve an odd way with people, Anne. I doubt you’ve ever had a single enemy in all your days," Ron decided, shaking his head.

Anne’s mind flashed all the unpleasant faces she’d encountered over her short lifetime, each bringing a sour taste to her mouth. Her gaze fell to her dress, a bit plain on this side of town, and she remembered the enemy she might be meeting at her destination. 

Oh, Gilbert didn’t know Christine despised Anne, much less the reasons why, and Anne had done her best to stay optimistic inwardly and outwardly. She hoped Christine wouldn’t think her cruel, that she was only borrowing a dress to rub it in that she was the one Gilbert loved. In fact, a person Gilbert held in such high esteem had to have redeeming qualities. Were it not for the barrier between them, Anne suspected her and Christine could be kindred spirits. 

“Home sweet home,” Ron muttered, swinging open an iron gate. 

The Stuart estate was built three stories tall of sand colored stones and sun-thirsty windows. Some of the gabled windows had their own balcony where a person could gaze out over the city for miles. Rounded hedges and a thousand blooms framed the home, though the flowers had started to brown in the autumn chill. As the group crossed onto the terrace, Ron’s mood dropped further and further into the dirt. He knocked on the front door, only to be greeted by a small, mousy servant girl. She eyed Ron first, then Anne, both with disapproval. Her gaze crossed over Gilbert with interest, so she spoke directly to him.

“How can I help you?” she said in a saccharine. Ron frowned.

“Are you new?” he asked. The young woman blinked and her brows furrowed as she decided whether to answer truthfully or scold him for his rudeness. “Nevermind that. Please tell Mr. Stuart that Ron is home.” 

The maid was unsure, but she did what she was told, making way so that the guests could file in behind her. 

“Why don’t you live here?” Anne asked quietly. 

“Remember that thing we talked about this morning?” 

Anne nodded.

“That ,” Ron answered, just as a man a mere inch taller than Ron appeared from the side room. 

“Ronald, I’m surprised to see you.” The man’s voice bore a deep timbre, one only men of class seemed to possess. 

“Well, father, I do favor a visit every now and again.” 

Mr. Stuart’s hard brow softened, but only by a fraction. His hard stare fell on Anne and the kind smile on her lips.

“I’ve brought my friends with me. This is my roommate Gilbert Blythe, and his young lady, Anne Shirley Cuthbert. Anne surprised Gilbert with a visit all the way from Prince Edward Island, but she needs a dress to wear for tonight’s banquet.” 

“And you’ve come to ask for money?” Mr. Stuart deadpanned.

“Oh, not at all, sir!” Anne interjected. “Christine was ever so kind as to say that she might let me borrow one of her dresses. Personally I’d be comfortable in anything, but good appearances help maintain Gilbert’s reputation, and I’m only here for the weekend. If it suits you, I can wash and press the dress before I leave on the morning train.” Mr. Stuart was speechless, so Anne charged. “Your home is magnificent! I’ve only ever dreamed up such places, but being here now, please allow me to compliment your exquisite taste. Did much of the furniture come from overseas or is it purely Canadian?” 

Mr. Stuart cleared his throat when she was finished speaking and turned to Gilbert. 

“Mr. Blythe, are you quite sure about this one?” 

The smile which had arisen on Gilbert’s face listening to Anne be so unashamedly herself fell almost an imperceptible amount.

“Quite certain,” Gilbert assured, perhaps a bit harder than he intended. “Anne is PEI’s treasure.” 

Christine appeared at that moment, descending the stairs with the elegance of a fairy tale heroine. 

“I can entertain our company from here, father. You needn’t trouble yourself.” 

Anne steadied her face, desperately fighting off a bad feeling in her gut. She fell back at Gilbert’s side, sliding her arm through his and relaxing only a little when his other hand reached over to take the one on his arm. 

“Nonsense. I’d like an opportunity to catch up with my son and meet his friend. You may take the young lady up to your room and find her something adequate to wear,” declared Mr. Stuart. Gilbert and Anne exchanged a look that only they could decipher, but Anne bravely let go of Gilbert’s arm and followed Christine up the stairs. 

Out of the autumn wind that blew when she first met Christine, Anne was able to smell the lilac perfume Christine had sprayed about her neck and hair. She vaguely wondered if she should invest in some of her own, if Gilbert might like the sweetness of it.

“I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your help. I’m all but a stranger to you, and yet you’ve been so gracious,” Anne began. Christine did not turn around. “Um, if there’s anything I could do to repay you, don’t hesitate to name it. Truly, anything.” 

Christine tossed a bitter glance over her shoulder. 

“Your silence will be payment enough,” Christine hissed so sharply that Anne nearly spun on her heels to fly down the stairs, yank Gilbert by the collar, and make for the Sunset house. But instead, she nodded politely and complied. 

When Christine opened the door to her room, Anne decided that if Christine was Cordelia, then this was the perfect bed chambers befitting her childhood ideal. A four post bed was pressed against the wall, silken pillows resting atop its lush quilts. A tall wardrobe was nearby, in addition to a walnut desk and a loveseat for reading. 

Christine threw open the doors of her wardrobe, eyeing the various gowns hanging within. Each one she pulled out made Anne’s heart soar with excitement. They were the most glorious dresses she’d ever seen, each just as breathtaking as the last. 

“I won’t look nearly as lovely as you do in any of those dresses,” Anne offered quietly.  

“No, you won’t,” Christine agreed. Anne’s lips snapped shut. She paused a moment before venturing out again.

“You know, Miss Stuart-” 

She didn’t have a chance to finish because Christine had yanked a dress off the rack and spun around, holding it out to Anne. It was a gown of raven black velvet with a modest bit of beaded detail around the high collar. 

“It’s positively lovely, just as lovely as the others,” Anne began slowly. “But I think I’d much rather wear what I’ve brought.” 

Christine still held out the dress, and Anne wondered if she ought to accept out of politeness.

“It’s just that I would hate to wear a mourning gown and disrespect the person it was meant to honor. If people asked who I lost, I’m afraid I wouldn’t have an answer. I’m blessed enough to have no one to mourn," Anne continued.

“But you do have something to mourn,” Christine said. 

“I do?” 

What Christine said next, she stated with such a matter-of-fact air that Anne was frozen in place: “Gilbert’s good prospects.” 

Anne had lived through a thousand different types of ridicules, and even more harsher verbal attacks. But this...This was so calculated, and petty that Anne’s surprise drowned out the growing flame of anger at being ridiculed. In fact, the silence in which a triumphant Christine was smirking was broken by Anne’s roar of laughter. 

Christine doubled back, but Anne laughed on. 

“Because of… me? ...Gilbert’s prospe-” Anne tried to speak through her hilarity, but another wave would come on. Christine was positively horrified. Of all the ways she had expected Anne to react, this was not one of them. But Anne feared if she stopped, there’d be no preventing whatever real reaction she was holding back to such viciousness.

Anne was still laughing when Ron poked his head through the door. His eyes moved from the black dress in Christine’s hand to Anne wiping tears from her eyes. Be it the connection between siblings or Ron’s own cleverness, but horror dawned on his face. He looked over his shoulder before coming in and closing the door behind him.

“Christine!” Ron scolded on a sharp hiss. “Of all your dresses, why is this is the one you-”

“Oh, Ron, it’s alright,” Anne interrupted, her voice finally even. “She’s not serious.”

“I am!” Christine spat venomously. She spun around to face Anne, whose smile drained away at Christine’s brutal loathing. The inky haired woman continued, stepping closer to Anne. “What did you expect? You’re a child from the blemish of society pretending to be a high society woman and you want me to help you?” 

Anne stuttered, helplessly looking for a way to stop her, but finding no words. Christine trudged on. 

“You’re going to make a country hick out of Gilbert. You’ll take the person who could be the best doctor in Canada and bring him back with you to tumble around in the mud for sport. What’s worse is he doesn’t even realize it because he’s such a bumbling fool, happily shoveling every bit of his promise into a grave, and it’s entirely you’re doing. You’ve made him a simpleton.”

Anne’s mind broke away from all its restraints. Christine had doused gasoline on her rage, and if she wanted to see Anne burn, so be it. Ron watched in horror as Anne took another step into Christine’s space.

“I won’t stop you, Christine. Say what you want to me. Give me every insult you can sneer between your teeth, and make every petty move under the guise of propriety you want. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before, believe me.” Anne clenched her jaw and her stormy gray eyes flashed lightning, making Christine stiffen her back. “But don’t you dare speak of Gilbert that way again.”

“Come on, Anne, let’s just go,” Ron called from the doorway. She ignored him, and eventually, he turned around and closed the door behind him. Alone with Christine, Anne liberated hersel to speak her mind.

“Miss Stuart, I know you’re in love with Gilbert and that fact in and of itself didn’t make me jealous or worried. I know unrequited love well and I wouldn’t wish that type of heartache on my worst enemy, much less you.” Losing her control, she snagged the black dress from Christine’s hands and tossed it on the bed. “But I know a thing or two more about the world than you think. This viciousness is going to get you nowhere fast. You think Gilbert is going nowhere in life, but he’s going everywhere. And I intend to go with him, wherever that is.”

“You say you’re not worried, but you should be,” Christine replied. “You really should be. He’s here in Toronto and you’re on another island. Even if it’s not me, someone is bound to steal him away eventually.” 

“If you think that’s how love works, then you’re the simpleton.” Anne hummed low and serious. “But I don’t think you are, and I’m not either. I may look like I’m worth nothing in your eyes, but I know my mind is rich and my heart is kind and strong. And it loves Gilbert. So you can give it all you’ve got and waste your time, Christine. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Anne’s gaze fell to the mourning dress she’d thrown onto the bed. “The fact that you even needed one of these makes my heart hurt for you,” Anne commented. “It’s so finely made. I’m sure it honored whomever it was made for. But you, Miss Stuart...this behavior? It doesn’t even honor yourself.” 

Christine was red and quiet. 

“I’m not...” she began finally, but then shook her head. The crease between Anne softened as she watched a battle rage in Christine - the same one she’d once watched in Josie Pye.

“No, please, go ahead,” Anne encouraged softly. Christine ran her fingers down an emerald green gown, avoiding Anne’s gaze. Whatever she was about to say had been locked up deep in the catacombs of her truth, and Anne wondered if she’d ever manage to unlock it, if it was even worth trying. 

Then, as if she’d said nothing at all, Christine spun back to the wardrobe and  grabbed one of the gowns that Anne had been drawn to from the moment she’d seen it. Christine saw Anne’s uneasiness and said, “You should wear this tonight.” 

“Are you sure? I really wouldn’t want to-” 

“Wear it. I’ll do your hair and embellishments, as well.” 

“Embellishments…? One minute ago we were fighting and now you want to do my embellishments? I don’t even know what that means.” 

Christine didn’t elaborate. She only pulled a gold colored gown from the wardrobe and began to undo the laces of her day dress. Anne looked down at her own ensemble, its silky emerald fabric and what seemed like a million shimmering jewels embroidered on. The neckline was modest by usual standards but lower than anything Anne had worn before,  and the sleeves billowed at her shoulders in an attractive fashion. She stepped into the dress, surprised when Christine came up behind her and began to clasp the buttons at the back. When she was finished, she turned her own back to Anne, where the redhead quietly returned the favor. 

Anne turned to the mirror, her reflection causing a short gasp to escape her lips. She couldn’t remember the last time her own appearance had left her speechless. Not even in her best daydreams could she imagine herself this way.

“I’m not usually a cruel person,” Christine murmured, eyes still locked on her reflection. 

“I believe that,” Anne replied truthfully. “When I was in the depths of despair, so heartbroken that I thought I would never breathe easily again, I was horribly hateful to Gilbert.”

“But the things I’ve said to you, even thought about you...Ron probably thinks I’ve lost my mind.”

“Is that an apology?” They met eyes in the mirror reflection.

“I suppose in a way it is.” 

“Then consider us even.” Christine didn’t look convinced, so Anne shrugged. “Historically, I hold dreadful drudges, but I’m working on that.”

Uncomfortable under Anne’s increasingly compassionate expression, Christine turned to her vanity, where she finished adding the final pearl pins to her dark hair. 

“It’s hard to imagine you heartbroken,” she confessed.

A wound on the surface of Anne’s heart tugged, like the scar was trying to break open, but the dull pain was nothing to her trust in Gilbert. 

“Would you believe me if I told you that just six months ago, Gilbert was courting someone else? Not just that - he was planning to propose to Winifred, move with her to France, and achieve his greatest dream by attend the Sorbonne in Paris?” 

Christine’s frown deepened in disbelief. 

“What happened?” 

“He realized he loved me too much to be with anyone else.” Anne sighed, sitting beside Christine, close enough that her genuineness was palpable, but not so close as to snuff out the fragile understanding between them. “I’m not telling you this to rub salt in what I know is a painful wound. I’m telling you because it would be unfair of me not to tell you that your time is better invested finding someone who would turn down the Sorbonne if it meant being with you. And you’re very beautiful, Christine. You won’t have to look hard.” 

They sat in silence for another few moments as Christine began to run a brush through Anne’s loosened hair. Finally, she wondered, “What was Winifred like?” 

“Astoundingly beautiful - easily just as lovely as you are - and so sweet and refined,” “There was nothing I could fault her for. She just wouldn’t give me reason to dislike her, much to my frustration. I almost hated her for being so perfect.” 

“I know the feeling,” Christine murmured. Then, a bit lighter, “How did you meet Gilbert?” 

“Oh, I saw him galloping on a chestnut steed between our two houses and I knew immediately that I must marry him, and if I didn’t, I would certainly perish of consumption within the year.” 

Christine stopped brushing. “...Really?” 

“No, of course not, though can you imagine? ” Anne laughed. “Gilbert saw me getting picked on in the woods shortly after I arrived in Avonlea and diffused the situation. After that, I refused to speak with him and eventually broke my slate over his head.”

“Now you’re just playing around.” 

“It’s the truth! Ask him, he’ll tell you. I did leave out the part when he tugged my braid and called me carrots, but it’s so unpleasant to think about. Truly, little boys have the most barbaric behavior.” 

“Then how did you fall in love? When? ”

Anne shrugged. “I think the whole time, something in the depths of my soul - the part that knows the way of things - had been nudging me for years saying ‘Anne! What are you hiding from? Let him see you! Open your eyes and see him!’ One day it yelled and I listened. I began to see how kind and admirable he is. He was all I wanted to watch and learn about.” She paused. “I’m sorry, this is probably incredibly unpleasant.” 

“Only a little,” was Christine’s answer. “I want to know...in case it ever happens to me, that is.” 

Meeting Christine’s eyes through the reflection in the vanity mirror, Anne smiled. 

“It will,” she promised. “Besides, I’ve learned that nice young men have equally nice friends. Have you considered Fred Wright?” 

“Fred’s not nearly as handsome as Gilbert,” chuckled Christine. 

Anne let out an overly dramatic sigh of resignation. “Alas, no one is.” 

Somehow, strangely and unbelievably Anne’s mind corrected, they managed to pass the next bit of time in easy company with one another. Anne could still see the lingering traces of heartache in Christine’s eyes whenever they met hers, but the icy wall between them had melted enough that they could speak like friendly acquaintances. Their bitter fight, which had raged like a wildfire and scalded the wallpaper, seemed like ages ago. Much to Anne’s relief, Christine had Ron’s sense of humor - a bit dry, but quick to wit. The interaction was a peace offering - Christine offering Anne a bit of rouging on her cheeks and lips (“These are embellishments, Anne” Christine had informed her, darkening her auburn lashes), Anne offering embarrassing stories she’d known about Gilbert.

“His brother says his singing was so earsplitting that they made him clean the latrines!” 

Christine bit back an amused smile, spraying some perfume over Anne’s hair. 

“He likes to sing on his way to class, did you know?” 

“No! I have to tell Bash immediately. Where’s the nearest telegram office?” The laughter on her lips died out as Christine finished her handiwork and stood back so Anne could see her reflection. 

“How’s that for your Princess Veronica?” Christine said, a hesitant, but pleased smile on her lips. 

“Cordelia,” Anne corrected on a murmur. “I think there’s a very unloved, very homely eleven-year-old orphan out there who will be so happy she lived to today.” She turned to Christine, unable to help a toothy grin from brightening her face. “Thank you, truly.”

It seemed that was the final piece for Christine - the part of the story that she hadn’t asked for, but the part that made her able to look upon Anne’s face without feeling sick with bitterness. All at once, Christine realized she’d been dreadfully wrong in her initial judgements of Anne. She wondered that she hadn’t seen the truth of it right away.

“I didn’t mean those things I said,” she said softly. “Well, I did, but I don’t anymore.”

Anne wanted to say something , to apologize for appearing out of the blue and for being the source of Christine’s failed hopes, but she struggled for the right way to articulate it. Before she could, Christine had taken off, leaving Anne alone to wonder how much time had passed - an hour, a day? 

As she made her way down the stairs, she heard Gilbert debating with Ron about something - the philosophical meaning of healing - to pass the time near the front door. Ron saw her first, giving Gilbert a knowing glance and a nod towards the steps. 

For all her imaginings about Princess Cordelia, Anne decided the moment Gilbert settled his molten gaze on her that she didn’t mind being the Anne Shirley-Cuthbert to his Gilbert Blythe. His gaze held multitudes - dreams, submissions, prayers. Each of them were wordless and inexpressible, each only for her. As if by instinct, he reached out a hand to help her off the last stair, though they both knew she didn’t need it, and used the opportunity to pull her close enough that he could smell her perfume.

“If you’re all ready to go, Chris and I ought to go say goodbye to our father,” Ron said. 

Gilbert didn’t watch them go, he couldn’t look anywhere except on Anne’s freckled neckline and rosy cheeks, but he knew the second they’d disappeared into the other room. 

Before she could tease him for his speechlessness, he tangled their fingers together and said in a soft tone, “You’re beautiful, Anne.” It made her want to drag his face into the nape of her throat so that he could compliment how sweet she smelled, how soft her skin was. Though she suspected Gilbert wouldn’t object in the least, they were far from romance heroes who had no sense of decorum, and if she wanted to engage in chancy embraces with him, she’d have to wait until after the banquet. 

For now, she settled on a small kiss against his lips and a wink. 

“What can I say, Christine works miracles.” 

Soon, Ron and Christine had joined them in the front entryway. Much to Anne’s surprise, she found herself being shuffled alongside Gilbert to the family carriage. Ron and Christine sat across from them as if they’d done it a hundred times over. Peering out the curtained window, Anne watched the neighbor pass along. 

“You know, Gil,” Anne began, letting her thumb graze over his knuckles. “I doubt we’ll ever be terribly rich in wealth, and I don’t mind a mite. But to be sincere, I also haven’t minded trying it out for a day.”

*****

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[jaxyu-a]

can you imagine  —  

jae-ha, after escaping his village, being on the run and on the streets for three years, finally meeting gi-gan.  this is the first place he’s ever felt safe and comfortable.  and then he feels too safe and too comfortable. 

the bed gi-gan’s given him is way too soft  —  how could he sleep on something like this?  he’s used to the hard, cold floor of the prison he was born in, with a used and worn down pillow that did little to cushion his head and a blanket that smelled of tears and dried blood.  he’s used to sleeping on the ground, in the dirt, beneath the stars, curled up into himself in a desperate attempt to generate heat.  sometimes he’d find a patch of grass, letting it tickle at his cheeks and lick at the scars on his wrists and ankles, but even that felt too soft sometimes. 

rarely, when he was feeling bold enough, he’d find an abandoned home.  even more worn down than the place he was born  —  barely any roof and missing pieces in the floorboard and even more ragged sheets  —  but it was better than sleeping on the ground.

and those were the times when he could sleep, excluding the majority of times he couldn’t. 

but now he’s with gi-gan.  there’s no holes in this roof and the sky is blocked from his view.  the sheets are brand new, freshly washed, and the smell of the soap almost makes him nauseous as he presses the sheets close to his face, breathing them in. 

and the mattress  —  it’s firm but soft.  he presses down on it with a hand first, watches as it goes down, removes his hand, lets it rebound.  does it a few more times as if it’s surprising, as if something will change.  he stands on it next, jumps, but not too high, like the kids used to do in the books he got to read;  they’d laugh and bounce all over the bed with their friends, sometimes they’d take the pillows and hit each other and laugh even louder and he wondered if a monster like him would ever have friends like that, play games like that. 

then he tries to lie down.  settles his head on a too soft pillow, lets his body rest on a too soft mattress under too soft sheets.  he tosses and turns and frustration builds with in him, threatens to boil over.  

he shouldn’t get comfortable here, he decides.  that bed is a promise of a home and a place to stay, and gi-gan will get rid of him soon, right?  to get too complacent was to be sourly disappointed. 

and for the first few nights, he sleeps on the floor next to his bed, because that hard and cold floor is all he’s ever known.      

[fortunatelylori]

Why the Jon/D*any romance doesn’t work (Part 5)

Hey, guys! This last part of my “Why the Jon/Dany romance doesn’t work” series was taken down in the great Tumblr purge and I am now reuploading it. I got a few messages from people wanting to read it and I’m really sorry it’s taken this long to get it back up again. But here it is! :)

This is actually the second part of the “More than 2 is a crowd” section of the series but since it got very, very long I split it up.

Welcome to Days of GOT, the soap-opera where your captor turns into your lover only to turn into your aunt:

The “we’re fucked but not in a good way” scene

As a general rule, I’ve decided not to take into consideration what any of the people involved in this TV show say in interviews or behind the scenes. They very willingly and intentionally mislead the audience and lie to our faces. I don’t hold it against them but I’m not going to spend my time analyzing and commenting on something that may very well be the writers screwing with me.

However, I find it very interesting that Kit Harrington said that he thought this was the scene where Jon and Dany started liking each other. Because this is, by far, the nicest, friendliest conversation they’ve ever had. It’s almost, dare I say it, human-esque.

Here, I’ll even give you some examples:

Jon: No one is less happy about this than I am.

Dany: I know. I respect what you did. Wish you hadn’t done it but I respect it.

Wow! Appreciation and respect … where have you two been for the duration of this plot?

Dany: […] We weren’t extraordinary without them (dragons). We were just like everyone else.

Jon: You’re not like everyone else.

Hello, validation! Nice to see you again, old friend.

See? Even I’ve been generalized into submission. He’s lucky he’s cute. That’s all I got to say.

Dany: I can’t have children.

Jon: Who told you that?

Dany: The witch who murdered my husband.

Jon: Has it occurred to you she might not have been a reliable source of information?

Dany, you lucky girl! You’ve just been struck by the ever elusive Jon Snow joke! Revel in it for it only comes out to play once a season.

So, all of this is very touching … I mean, I say very …. Mildly, in the near vicinity of touching. It would have been even better had this happened earlier and not in their last private conversation but at this point, beggars can’t be choosers.

However, once you strip away this veneer of friendliness, you do find some quite troubling things in this scene.

Firstly, there’s the main issue they are discussing:

Dany: This place was the beginning of the end for my family. […] A dragon is not a slave. They were terrifying, extraordinary. They filled people with wonder and awe and we locked them in here. They wasted away. They grew small and we grew small as well.

The problem with this speech is that it creates a conundrum for both the audience and Jon. Because Jon’s already heard the flip side of this particular coin, directly from his BFF, Jorah:

Missandei: Why did they build it? (the Dragonpit)

Jorah: Dragons don’t understand the difference between what is theirs and what isn’t. Land, livestock, children … Letting them roam free around the city was a problem.

So how does Jon resolve this issue? He doesn’t. He simply listens to Dany, looks around the Dragonpit and keeps his mouth shut.

Are we to understand that Jon Snow simply doesn’t care about children being burned alive because he wants Dany and her dragons to be as terrifying and awe inspiring as possible?

Isn’t it more likely to assume that Jon simply does what he’s always done in conversations with Dany, essentially keep his thoughts to himself and allow her to think whatever she wants? Which can only mean that despite their pleasantries, their dynamic is essentially the same it’s been since the cave scene. Which, by extension, means we’re just going round and round in ever increasingly polite circles.

Great! I got all excited with no rose petal covered way to go.

Then there’s this:

Dany: You were right from the beginning. If I trusted you, everything would be different.

Jon: So what now?

Dany: I can’t forget what I saw North of the wall. And I can’t pretend Cersei won’t take back half the country the moment I march North.

Remember when I said that Jon had no reason to bend the knee because Dany had already promised to help him defeat the Night King?

Tin foil hat: You know nothing, fortunatelylori!

Shut up, you!

Yes, Jon! You heard that right! A near death experience by either zombification or drowning, a dead uncle and a bent knee later and all you have to show for it is a better placement on Dany’s list of priorities. It used to be -100 before but now the goddamn apocalypse is neck and neck with Dany and Cersei’s competition for a piece of furniture. Enjoy!

The “what is fear of assassination anyway when my hormones are out of wack” scene

I could analyze every line in this scene but I prefer to cut through all the boring travel arrangements that no one paid attention to and cut to the chase:

Jorah: My queen, love of my life, end all be all of my existence, your safety is paramount to me. Please fly to Winterfell and not risk getting blood all over your pretty blond wig.

Jon: Aaa ... I mean it’s your choice, obviously, but ... would you rather fly and be safe or get on a boat and possibly have sex with me?

Dany: Sex with Jon  on a boat, definitely.

However, I will say this is a very interesting line:

Jon: It’s your decision, your Grace. But if we’re going to be allies in this war, it’s important for the Northerners to see us as allies.

It sort of feels like Jon is not giving Dany a choice at all. It’s more of a “my way or the highway” type of proposition but again Dany’s too far down the rabbit hole to notice the difference.

The “this better be good, guys! The whole of Westeros is watching” scene

I’d love to link to b0atbang here but Tumblr hates that scene as much as we do. So for your convenience, I have decided to put my considerable artistic talents to good use and I have drawn what I believe is almost an exact representation of it:

Guys, I spent almost 30 seconds in Paint doing this so please show me some love. Tread carefully, Tumblr, for you are treading on my dreams!

We started this section of the series talking about the “more than 2 is a crowd” rule so it seems only fitting that we should end with this: the most crowded sex scene since whatever porno film you watched last night.

There are 6 people involved in this scene and that’s excluding the actual two people that are having sex! Six people, most of them related to one or both Jon and Dany.

We have Jon’s mother but also Dany’s sister in law, Jon’s uncle but also adoptive father, Jon’s real father but also Dany’s brother, Jon’s brother who is actually his cousin, Jon’s best friend and also family member to the victims of Dany’s latest dracarys incident and lastly Dany’s closest adviser and also ex-husband to Jon’s sister/cousin/the current possessor of a “part of him”. This is Days of our Lives gone terribly, terribly wrong.

I don’t think I have to explain why this is romantic plot suicide. A sex scene between a romantic couple is supposed to be intimate, tender, sometimes steamy. It not supposed to be the smallest part of an elaborate montage designed to tell us that the people currently engaged in the devil’s mambo number 5, are actually related as well as de facto rivals for the Iron Throne.

A lot of people have commented on the inherent issues with the set-up of this scene, from the lack of a first kiss (an absolutely crucial part of any romantic pairing), to the lack of conversation before or after , to the horrible transition from a dying, blood soaked Lyanna to Jon and Dany in the midst of physical abandon and up to Jon’s strange expression:

Jon: I don’t think Tinder is working out for me.

What I would like to do instead is show you a scene that has quite a similar setup to this: it starts off in a bed and also includes the dreaded body flip. This is incidentally one of my favorite sex scenes. I am, of course, talking about the sex scene between Achillies and Brisies in 2004’s Troy. When I uploaded this the first time, @lostlittlesatellites  mentioned in the comments section that this film was actually written by David Benioff, which I had forgotten. So not only did the D reuse this set-up for the Jon/Dany scene but actually is well aware of the salient differences between the two scenes, since, you know, he was involved in writing both of them. Another nail in the “Ds suck at their job which is why they couldn’t write a better romance” coffin, I guess.

I would love to put this scene up here in all its glory. However, since Tumblr is a prude that can’t handle the gorgeous physique of one Brad Pitt, I can’t. Just type Achillies and Brisies into youtube because it’s a more liberated platform, incidentally with far fewer Nazis lurking around. Also here is a pic of Brad’s gorgeous abs. Tumblr, eat your heart out!

The body flip:

The body flip in the Brisies/Achilles is counterbalanced by the knife. These kinds of flips are awkward when filmed in a wide shot but the fact that she’s holding a sharp object to Achilles’ throat moves our focus towards the character’s faces and not the awkward body movement.

Focus on details:

When you watch this scene, you’ll notice that a large portion of it is Achilles pulling up her dress and slipping his hand underneath the material. That becomes a very intimate movement that, in turn, creates expectation … And expectation creates interest. It has a much slower build-up than what we get with Jon/Dany and it’s that prolonged moment that makes it sexier.

It tells a story:

This is very important. Words in scenes aren’t there just to make the writer feel important. They set the tone, the level of intensity and make the audience feel like they’re a part of it, instead of being kept at arm’s length because they don’t have access to the character’s thoughts.

The Troy sex scene is a whole story in itself: We start with Brisies trying to kill Achilles but hesitating. We have Achilles admitting he will kill more men and daring her to go through with her plan. We have him flipping her and then tentatively kiss her as she finally gives up and drops the knife to the floor. This is an intimate, character driven scene that marks the transition of these two from enemies to lovers.

That’s not to say that Jon and Dany’s scene isn’t telling a story. The difference is that the story it tells is plot driven, not character driven. What makes their scene inherently interesting are the revelations we receive about Jon and how that will affect the plot moving forward. In that sense they become secondary characters in their own sex scene, just gilded cogs in a much larger plot wheel and far from breaking it, their sex scene is advancing it. To what end, I guess we’ll find out in season 8.  

 And that’s it, you guys! Hope you enjoyed this series. I do have a few ideas on what to write next but if there’s something in particular you’d like me to cover, let me know.

In case you haven’t read the other 3 parts of the series, you can find them linked below:

Part 1: Are D&D really idiots?

Part 2: Repetition and generalization are the death of romance

Part 3: When everyone and their mother has a different take on the same line of text

Part 4: More than 2 is a crowd

PS: none of the artwork in this meta belongs to me. Except for b0atbang which is the only piece of art worth mentioning anyway and which shall be hanging in a museum near you very, very soon.

[okimargarvez]

THE HEARTMENDER

Original title: L’aggiustacuori.

Prompt: Luke’ brother broken with his girlfriend and Penelope tries to help.

Warning: O.C.

Genre: romantic, comedy, angst, family, friendship.

Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, Luke’ brother (O.C.), O.C., Emily Prentiss. 

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot 37 in Garvez collection.

Legend: 💑😘😈🎈.

Song mentioned: Hai delle isole negli occhi, Tiziano Ferro.

This story is based on actual events.

GARVEZ STORIES

THE HEART MENDER

 As soon as he enters the room, she realizes there's something strange. The man places the bag against the wall, not next to the desk, as he usually does. And his head is low. He doesn’t even caress Roxy.

-Hey, love, what happened?- she reaches him and takes his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. -We took the unsub, we saved the whole family... it's a day to celebrate.- he still doesn’t show signs of life. -What’s happened?- the worry is getting wider and wider in her heart.

-As soon as we landed, my mother called me. For Tomaso.- he pulls off her hands from his face and holding them, sitting on the couch. -He and Elisabeth have broken.- first the woman seems to take the news well, or rather, has no reaction. -Tomaso is very depressed and has been eating almost nothing for a week. My mother can’t sleep, she's afraid he may do some mess and my father has had an ulcer.- her eyes widen more and more, until she bursts into tears. -No, baby.- he makes her put her head on his chest.

-He was really in love, you could see from the way he looked at her and... I know you think Tomaso is stupid, but he is not, and anyway she was improving him... I can’t understand...- between a sob and the other, she is able to say a few consistent sentences. She can’t stem the flow of tears. In addition to Luke's young brother, she imagines his parents destroyed by anxiety. -What happened?- she stops to look him in the eye.

Man sighs. -I didn’t understand, but it must have been a stupid thing. She was jealous and afraid he would betray her, so she wanted to talk with his friend, to make sure he was really a boy. And this stupid must have answered her with some obscene phrase. She was so offended, and the next morning she replied him by repeating that phrase, the same words, identical, adding that it was over.- Luke sighs again, shaking his head and then letting his gaze be magnetized by the female .

-But it's terrible, I can’t believe it! For a bullshit like that?!- she seems to have taken this even worse than him. He knows her, even if they haven’t been together for a very long time, now he has learned to read her, and she, except for some small things, is an open book. -Really?- she wipes the shiny eyes with the palm of the hand.

-Yes, that's what I thought too... it makes no sense.- he shrugs, shakes his head once more and then takes it in his hands. Penelope wonders what he's thinking right now and what she can do to make him feel better. This is the task that has been entrusted to her by fate.

-Oh, honey...- the woman hugs him, and Luke feels every negative emotion disappearing. He is enjoying the grasp, savoring every single caress on the back, every delicate and precise touch, immersing himself in her scent and warmth. Soon, however, he realizes that she has begun to cry again, even more intensely, her breast is shaken by sobs, she is in advanced crisis mode.

-No, baby, there's no need to do that.- he takes off her glasses and observes for a few seconds her red and puffy eyes. The image of a crying Penelope is certainly not rare, he should have gotten used to it, but no, he will never see it as normal. It is as if the pain he felt had all moved into her, and it is not something that happens only between them. She absorbs all the evil in the world, both what they punctually meet at work, and the minor evil, homely, hers, of their friends and colleagues. He can’t let her carry all this weight alone, but often, when she is at this stage, he is not able to reach her.

I hate so many things since I know you and I don’t even know why, but I sense it... I hate: my name only without yours, every fucking goodbye, I hate when you hate yourself and you pull me away, because...

-What?- instead of returning to his arms or groped a smile, to thank him for having tried anyway, Penelope gets angry. -Your brother is in pain and even your parents, I seemed to understand, didn’t feel very well.- she raises the voice, without realizing it. -What's wrong with you?- she shouts.

Their relationship is still too immature, full of holes to fill. So, knowing that this is not the right path, the self-defense of the man is activated and he answers: -With me?- they move away from each other only a few inches, apparently. She needs the distance, because only by touching him, her decision will waver. -What's wrong with you, rather. Tomaso doesn’t have a terminal illness, he has only...- he recognizes the pungent and almost offensive nuances in his own voice, even if he struggles to admit that it belongs to him. She would like to slap him, but she silences him in another way.

-No, don’t dare to say it, Luke Alvez.- she calls him by his full name only when she wants to excite him or is angry with him. And pissed off it should be read as wound. It seems that the first option is to be excluded a priori. -Is that what you think?- he sees the shadow of a disaster, the first signs of the tornado about to fall on him. And he doesn’t do anything because he is not too surprised. After all, it seemed too good to be true, that they were meant to be together, or rather, that they could be together without getting hurt. -So, if I left you like that, suddenly, because it annoys me that you snore, just to say, you would be happy, right?- the hypothesis makes him tremble, but outside you can’t see anything. -It is not a tumor, after all.- she too (partly) regretted what she said, but can’t stop.

...you have islands in your eyes and the deepest pain, rest at least an hour only if I meet you... and I love you, and with the hands I say what I don’t know, and you love me... synthetic plot of a historic day

-They are two different things.- he hears himself responding, but it seems that a stubborn child has talked in his place. And in fact, it is not clear whether it is more important to understand who is really right or just to show that the other is wrong.

-Ah, yes, Luke?- she voluntarily cripples his name. -In what? Because I just don’t get there.- she crosses her arms and moves away a few inches, until she reaches the arm of the sofa.

The man feels all repressed tiredness, heavy eyes and a grumbling stomach. They haven’t even had dinner yet. He struggles to remember how they ended up in this discussion. -Why we can't forget everything and enjoy the evening?- it's all he wants, not a 5-star hotel, oysters and champagne, or drive a Lamborghini, but a simple evening spent with the woman he loves and that makes beat his heart in a thousand different ways. He looks at the watch on his wrist. -And to get a pizza...- Penelope loves eating pizza, because it has become part of their ritual, every time they do, on Sundays, they eat it together. And today they risked not being able to do it, because the jet was running late.

-How can you talk about pizza while Tomaso is so sad.- she doesn’t pronounce it as a question, but as a pitiful lament. -What kind of insensitive man are you?- Penelope's opinion has always been important to him, and he worked hard to convince her that he wasn’t the macho heartbreaker that she had painted in her head. That he is much better than that.

-Pen...- he stretches a hand in her direction, but he hasn’t really hope.

-Don’t call me Pen, and don’t touch me.- she pushes him away with a thrust on his chest. -Eat the pizza alone, or rather, eat them both. Cause you have a lot of space in here!- then she stands up and walks in the direction of the bedroom.

-But where are you going?- he doesn’t follow her. A little for the shock, a little because he doesn’t know what she wants he to do, what is the best choice.

She comes out like a thunderbolt, the biggest bag she has, the red one, overflowing, with the zipper open. He recognizes a piece of one of her most sober pajamas. -We see tomorrow at work.-

 He had gotten used to waking up and seeing first of all her face half submerged in a cascade of blond hair. It is strange and sad to hear nothing but the emptiness next to him. Even the bed feels colder, although it was normal, before a few months ago, to sleep alone. We get so attached to new routines so quickly... Time is slowed down. Every action seems prolonged to infinity. All the red traffic lights that separate them. From whom did she go to spend the night? One of the girls? Or from Spencer? Did she be able to sleep? Because for him it wasn’t a simple undertaking. It was a disturbed and discontinuous sleep, and every time he emerged from oblivion, he forgot that she wasn’t there.

Finally, here is the elevator and then the door of her office. He opens it without knocking, seeing her busy to work. She doesn’t even jump. Perhaps she expected it. Is he so predictable? -Hey.- he puts his hands on her backrest.

-Good morning.- she replies, in a distant, professional tone.

-Are we back to the ice queen?- he can’t help annoying her. He hopes to provoke a reaction in her, that everything has been solved in a soap bubble. After all, if she took it so much, it is precisely because their relationship has just blossomed, and she is afraid, as much as his, that the other half is not so serious. It's his fault that he couldn’t tell her how much he loves her. Penelope doesn’t answer, so the man decides to try another tactic. He lowers and hugs her from behind, feeling the sweet tickling of her hair in the uncovered parts of his neck. Even in this case, she almost doesn’t react. He gives her a few moments.

-You have finished?- she impetuous asks. -Because I would have some work to do.- almost like it when she cries or when, rarely, she shouts at him; often the two things happen simultaneously.

-Penelope, I don’t want to argue with you.- he pulls off, with difficulty, but turns the chair in his direction, so that she is forced to look him in the eye. -Not then for a bullshit like that.- but here, he made the same mistake the day before.

-That's the point, Luke!- she blurts out, jumping to her seat. -According to me, it's not a bullshit. And then, we have a case.- saved by the bell, one might say. Luke snorts, letting her go, and resigning himself. But only for this round.

 Sometimes the case is a mocking bastard who enjoys playing with the circumstances. That's why the two lovebirds end up working together with an apparently simple case, while the rest of the team deals with a much more complex one. Too bad that there is not one thing that they agreed. -Sarah has strong self-injurious tendencies and feeds on other people's pain.- Penelope has difficulty tolerating the simple fact of being alone with him in her private space. She snorts, moving away a little with her chair.

-I don’t agree.- she speaks without looking at him. -It's just a woman who has never received love from anyone. Surely if someone gave her some love, she wouldn’t try to kill herself or others.- Luke is not sure if she's referring exclusively to this case. There is something accusatory in her tone. Maybe it's true, maybe he wasn’t able to show her how much he cares about her. He gave it too much for granted.

-Pen...- unlike her, he has never stopped staring at her. He sees her wince and is quick to correct himself. -Garcia, no offense, you're not a profiler. There is clear evidence in favor of my thesis.- she crosses her arms. -You let yourself be influenced too much by your feelings.- the woman stands up, a flash in the pupils behind her glasses.

-Once you loved me for this.- she exclaims in a voice so pained that it breaks his heart. This time Luke doesn’t stand without doing anything, waiting for the course of destiny.

-Hey!- he gets up in turn, grabs her by the wrist and without hurting her, he forces her to rotate until her head ends up against his chest. Even with heels, she is still lower than him. -I still love you for this.- both remain stuck in shock, because they realize at the same time that it is the first time that he has said it with such depth that it leaves no room for doubt or misunderstanding. It is not a friendly declaration. -But it doesn’t change the fact that Sara Wilkins is our unsub.- he adds, brushing her hair gently and using a calm tone of voice.

But Penelope doesn’t want to give up. She warns her rigid body against his. -How can you be absolutely sure?- he sighs, still cuddling her, partly against her will.

-There are all the telltale signs.- and that's why the rules of fraternization advised against mixing private life and work.

-So, she will have life imprisonment and her tormentor will be free to ruin another woman's life. Beautiful justice!- she subsists in his hug, but doesn’t try to get free anyway. It is already a good sign.

-We can’t do anything else, I'm sorry.- he hates using certain sentences of circumstance.

-No, it is not true. You’re a man, a macho like the others.- and here it is, the accusation she aimed at from the beginning. Luke detaches his arms from his girlfriend, trying to hold back the nervous that he feels move from the stomach to the head and vice versa. He bites his lips and counts up to thirty. She stands still to look at him, perhaps partially repentant of what she said.

-No, I can accept anything, but not this. You can’t say that I'm a macho, you know that I grew up among women, what education I received from my mother and my grandmother.- incredibly he manages to remain calm and that's exactly what makes her angry even more. Why doesn’t he start shouting, doesn’t he shoot sentences that he doesn’t really think, doesn’t make mistakes, like any other human being?

-But you are still a male. And you can’t help but have certain thoughts.- the calm of him feeds her fire. He is about to ask what kind of thoughts she is referring to, but the door opens and Prentiss enters, perfectly unaware of the clash between titans in progress. Although perhaps she had already guessed something when she decided to let them work together. She wasn’t afraid that they can compromise the case. They're both great professionals, yes, even Garcia.

-What happens here? Do we have any news?- she looks first one and then the other. Penelope tightens her lips, allowing him to speak first.

-Maybe. In my opinion, Sarah is our unsub, but Garcia doesn’t agree.- he is doing what she asked for, leaving her spaces, but she is hurt because he has called her by last name. One of the few things like a statement that he had told her, since they were together, it was just that she would never be only Garcia, for him, but Penelope. Even at work, he would never see her again as the computer genius, the oracle of the BAU, or at least, not only.

-Well, having different opinions is not necessarily bad, just respect that of others, even if they are wrong.- Emily watches them exchange a fleeting glance, both immediately look away. The low heads, like two schoolboys who were put behind the blackboard with the donkey's hair on their heads. -So, Garcia, why don’t you believe that Sarah is the killer?- she puts her arms crossed, keeping the answer.

But neither of them expects that she shakes her head and decide to give up. -Leave it, boss, he's definitely right.- Emily thinks a second whether to remind her that she prefers not to call her that authoritarian way, but then notices her defeated expression, her shoulders lowered and decides to keep quiet. -I don’t feel very well, could I go home sooner?- the brunette woman tries not to look at Luke.

-Sure, Penelope. Do you need a ride?- the blonde shakes her head and in a moment she has prepared the bag and put it on her shoulder.

-No, I'll take the subway.- Emily can almost feels Luke hold his breath, trying to become invisible.

-All right. Let me know something, tonight.- she takes her friend's hand for a second. Penelope nods and smiles.

-Sure. And thank you.- as soon as she leaves the room, the chief gives Luke a push, without saying a single word and the man hurries to reach Penelope. Fortunately, the elevator has just arrived and he succeeds, risking to lost the hand, to stop the closing of the doors and slipping inside. She changes completely expression, trying to stay away from him, even though space is limited. -What do you want? Why don’t you leave me alone? - but he doesn’t let himself be beaten down. He turns to her and looks at her in that way.

-Because I'm your boyfriend, Penelope and I love you and I can’t understand what you have. I have the right to be worried.- she doesn’t reply anything and remains silent until they reach the parking lot. He lets her out first, but then he puts one hand, with his open palm, on her back and leads her in the direction of his truck. -Get in the car.- he says, firm tone, decisive. If sweet ways don’t work...

-Do you see that you are the usual man who expects his woman to do all you want, immediately?- in fact, he feels a thrill hearing her calling herself as his property, but at the same time doesn’t agree with what she has said. He always believed in the importance of sharing every choice within the couple. Exactly like his parents did.

-No, I am a man convinced that the person who is temporarily more stable must convince the other to cooperate.- she opens the door, sits on the side of the passenger. -Penelope, please.- he takes her hand and she doesn’t run away. She is about to give up. It is clear, it is written in her eyes, in the way she trembles. -I can‘t argue with you. Do you want to know how I would react if you left me? I would go crazy, I would lose my mind. It is the truth. Please, let's make peace.- she plays for a few seconds with the male fingers, and finally looks up to meet Luke's eyes.

-Really?- he takes her face in his hands, firmly, and puts his forehead on hers. He nods, feeling a weight less on the heart, then inserts the key and starts the engine. Their fingers remain intertwined throughout the journey, even if neither of them says anything, they enjoy the silence and still remain silent once they get out of the car, yet they don’t seem to need words, they have already understood. The key in the lock seems to turn an eternity, to turn endlessly, but finally they are inside. Just a few greetings to Roxy, and then, there is complete oblivion. They quickly get rid of clothes, they remain only with underwear. Luke picks her up, holding her from her thighs and she leans against the door; he kisses her neck and she does absolutely nothing to censor her moans. Before they become one thing, they look into each other's eyes, the man's gaze is so hungry that she literally melts in his arms and shouts his name, then whispers it, and again screams, going to rhythm with his thrusts.

Neither feels guilty for taking advantage of a situation that seemed decidedly disastrous. Or for making love in the afternoon, while their colleagues and many other people are working. Sometimes we need to be a little selfish, to think only of ourselves.

 Cuddles follow the passion. For a few hours they feel like wrapped in a bubble that separates them from the rest of the planet. But then, the world comes back to knock on their door. -Did you talk with your brother?- they are lying on the couch, Penelope with her head resting on his chest.

-No.- he answers quietly, hands wrapped between the breast and the hips of his partner.

-Don’t you think it's appropriate to see how he is?- she turns slightly to look at him.

-Sincerely not, he is a big boy, not a kid.- he feels her stiffen more and more, but doesn’t give up. It can’t happen again. He doesn’t have the strength to face a new discussion on this topic. Yet he makes the same mistake. -You're too anxious.- he underestimates the whole thing.

-Maybe are you not enough.- she slides out one for one the male fingers from her body and moves to the opposite end of the couch. Luke sighs, already feeling the first symptoms of the headache return.

-Penelope, you don’t understand, the relationship between brothers is different from all the others. It doesn’t mean that I don’t love him, but he is thirty years old, he knows how to do it alone.- and here again, anger and pain mixed up in a lethal cocktail. But she has decided to be strong, she will not cry, not even a salty drop will run through her proud face.

-So, the fact that I am an only child because my half-brothers have only a part of DNA in common with me, I don’t know what the fraternal relationship is?- she has always been able to twins his words to her favor.

-I didn’t mean to say this.- the man passes a hand through his hair.

-Well no. You meant exactly this.- Penelope stands up. He watches her take the bag, heading to her room and type something in her cell phone. He remains on the threshold of the room, doesn’t even make a single attempt to stop her. Maybe, again, that's exactly what she wants. But this situation is too exhausting.

He finds the courage to ask only one question. -Are we again in crisis?- she stops, stares at him, then grabs the handle, gives a pat to Roxy and nods.

-Yes.-

 While waiting that the person on the other side of the door opening it, Penelope wonders why she is less excited about talking to an almost unknown than with her boyfriend, as long as she can still consider him so. Finally, someone appears. She recognizes her instantly. Elisabeth doesn’t seem to be physically affected by the separation: the red hair, which betray her Irish origins, are beautiful as always. And even the clothes are perfect. The younger one doesn’t seem too surprised to find her outside the house.

-Hello, I don’t know if you remember me, I'm Penelope, Luke's girlfriend.- she starts talking right away, for fear that the other reconsider it and will close the door.

-Yes, of course.- even if they have practically never talked, you certainly can’t forget a girl like her. FBI agent, very funny. And sensitive. Her degree in psychology must serve something. In the Alvez house there wasn’t a single nosy authorized to do so. -Why you're come here?- she puts her arms on her hips, in a waiting position.

Her tone of voice is polite, but it transpires a certain amount of annoyance. Penelope swallows, feeling uncomfortable. -Sorry for the trouble, it's just that... Tomaso...- she has the right to know the real situation. -... it's very bad, and also the rest of his family. I just wanted to understand what happened. And maybe you'd do well to talk to someone, too.- she smiles, but a little voice in her head repeats that Luke was right. It was a bad idea to come here. And the sigh that Elisabeth issues before replying, confirms it.

-Penelope, don’t take it, but... I'd rather be on my own. I'm sure your intentions are good, but... there's nothing you can do.- but most of all are the young woman's bright eyes, to convince her that this is not her place.

-I... I'm sorry, really. If you need...- the only thing she can do is leave her number. Elisabeth holds her hand a second, unable to thank her in any other way. Sometimes time heals wounds, sometimes it digs only a deeper abyss that separates us from the people we love.

The woman wonders where she may have read or heard this phrase, when she notices a vibration inside the bag. Seven missed calls, all by Luke. Sighing, she answers. -Penelope, why didn’t you answer me until now?- the man is halfway between despair, anger, the desire to scream.

-I've been busy.- but her icy tone instantly extinguishes his fire.

-But...- he can almost imagine her making a gesture with her hand, to silence him.

-I have no time. I'll call you when I come back.- and she hangs up, leaving him in the company of silence.

 What drives her to ring another bell, when she knows she's wrong, that she's wrong, and that Luke is the one who's right? Perhaps stubbornness. Not wanting to admit defeat. She then decided to renounce, but now fate is out of controll and she will have to face the consequences. The door opens wide and gives her the vision of a beautiful man in overalls, worn and battered. She could almost mistake him for Luke, except that his brother is slightly taller and thinner, less muscular, but no less charming.

-Penelope?- the surprise lasts too little. Was he waiting for her? Am I really so predictable?

-Hello, Tomaso.- she tries not to stare him.

He leans, looking at right and at left. -Is Luke there, too?- he asks, continuing to scrutinize behind her.

-No, I'm alone.- Tomaso nods and gestures for her to enter, then sitting on one of the armchairs. The house doesn’t look as bad as its owner, but still carries the traces of Elisabeth, and not only in framed photographs, but in the puzzles hanging on the walls, in the figurines. She and Luke have been together for so little time, yet the apartment of the latter has completely changed. She can’t imagine how would be if she would have to resume her own things and vanish, not leaving a single sign to testify to her passage.

-Uh.- awkward silence. Penelope clears her throat.

-Listen, I know that we never talked and that maybe I'm not even too nice for you...- Tomaso interrupts her, leaning forward, stumbles a bit and finally manages to regain his balance.

-Stop. Penelope, is the exact opposite.- he brings the face close to that of the woman, not enough to intimidate her, but still too close for someone who is not her boyfriend. -I envy my brother very much. Luke is a damn lucky man.- she sees something strange in her brother-in-law's green eyes, but above all she feels his breath.

-Uh, Tomaso, you're drunk.- she tries to increase the distance, rubbing against the seat of the chair. He bends his head to one side, as if evaluating her words.

-It can be.- he shrugs. -But maybe this will help me tell you the truth.- he approaches again. -I have always thought you are a sexy bomb and apart from this...- the look that launches at her leaves no room for doubt. Sure, it could be the beer talking, but... -I envy what you and Luke have. That asshole loves you madly, has never loved anyone as much as you and you feel the same.- she had never noticed that he gesticulating so much. -I'm not really gone, unfortunately, so I guess if you're here and he is not, it’s because you two have divergent opinions.- Penelope feels the need to laugh.

-It can be said so.- finally, the man restores the right distances. He tightens his lips and shakes his head.

-Here. And I can easily imagine that Luke is feeling like shit, right now, forgive me for the vulgarity.- she already knew it inside herself, but hearing someone else say it was a blow too big to deal with.

She prefers to change the subject. -I... I spoke with Elisabeth and she told me...- but it is clear that Tomaso is not interested in finding out what she has to say.

-Never mind.- pain and suffering are manifested in many ways, some bizarre. -I was fine with her, but there wasn’t between us what is between you and my brother.- she stares at him, in absolute silence. -I don’t know how to explain it to you, Penelope. You two are like the characters of a damn movie, one of those who make all women cry, or one of those novels that my mother reads. What is between you is... destiny. You two are Romeo and Juliet, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie.- Penelope opens her eyes wide, then closes her mouth, tries to repeat in her head what she has just heard, because it can’t be the truth. But it's useless to try to deny it, it's the same thing she always thought, even before he asked her out. Destiny.

But there is a battle going on inside her, and her insecure part wins temporarily. -So we are dead or divorced?- maybe Luke has taught some tricks of profiling to Tomaso, because he seems to read her mind almost as well as Luke does.

-You have understood perfectly what I mean. You must accept that you aren’t Cupid, Penelope. You can’t force people to love each other or even be happy.- yes, she has get this alone. -But you're risking losing Luke in this way. He could never leave you, but at the same time it takes a moment and he will close up as a hedgehog and you could lose the combination to access his heart.- the man stops a second and then laughs without any kind of warning. Just as abruptly back, he becomes sober and lucid. -Ok, this is really too sentimental. Maybe I'm really drunk.- it looks like he's negotiating with someone. -But if it would happens, Luke would die and in that case I could never forgive you.-

 In silence I look at the souls that pass, between all these souls you are the most special, because you smile also pursued by pain ... and I love you, even if you suffer and then claim not to show, when you would you like that your smile reverses the counter rule that rule the masses... and you love me... you say that there are only good people, the bad ones are just alone and maybe it’s so

For the third time in the course of a single day she finds herself waiting outside a door, without knowing what she will find beyond the threshold. He gave her a bunch of keys but she decided not to use it. She doesn’t know if she can still consider herself as his girlfriend. She rings the bell and hears the noise of Roxy's jumps, which probably recognized her. And then he appears. Inscrutable.

-Penelope.- also the voice doesn’t leave any clue on his mood.

-Uh, hi, Luke.- she has nothing better to say after vanishing for hours. It is almost eleven o'clock in the evening and perhaps that's why he drags her in, grabbing her by the arm, without bothering to dose the strength and closes the door just as vehemently. And so, Penelope discovers that even Luke can seriously piss off.

-Where fucking have you been, why have you never replied to me, why do you always have to put others in front of me, am I so unimportant for you?- but also that he is unable to be bad with her for more than five seconds. He switches quickly from anger to pain. The words of Tomaso resound as a warning in the woman's ears.

-No, Luke, listen to me, please.- she takes his face in her hands. Luke doesn’t retract, but turns his head in the opposite direction and closes his eyelids. -It's not like that, I love you.- she struggles not to let herself be taken in by the need to cry and keeps a firm tone.

He opens his eyes and gently detaches her hands from his face. -Well, you have a bad way to show it.- it can’t, it should not be too late. This can’t be what was in their destiny. -I also love you, but I can’t continue living this way...- what Tomaso said is about to happen, he is about to close in his own world and exclude her from it. -...you have a big heart, but maybe too much and I'm an overly possessive type, I don’t know...- but Penelope doesn’t allow him.

-No, Luke, I don’t want to lose you!- she knows what are the things he wants to hear, and this time she doesn’t let herself be governed by pride. -It's my fault, you're right, I didn’t think I could hurt you, I just wanted your parents and your brother to be better and I couldn’t understand that I can’t force others to be happy and sometimes people just need time...- and he doesn’t need anything else. Luke pulls her against him, so much so that it's hard to breathe.

-Stay a little quiet.- he exclaims, with an authoritative tone. -I’m in love with you for your big heart, but sometimes it is difficult to manage.- she trembles in his arms, lost in those eyes, bewitched by her lips so close and the head that turns, as never happened to her before with anyone else.

-Just sometimes?- she giggles. -You're my priority, Luke, you and our happiness. I'll never forget it again.- he loosens his grip to grab her face.

-So you will not play Cupid role again?- Penelope nods and makes a cross on the heart. Then she raises her hand like a scout, for safety.

-I swear.-

@arses21434 @kathy5654 @martinab26 @reidskitty13 @jenf42 @gracieeelizabeth27 @silviajajaja @smalliemichelle99 @charchampagne14 @thinitta   @myhollyhanna23 @garvezz @mercedes-maldonado  @shyladystudentfan @cosmicmelaninflower inlovewithgarvaz

[icemintfreeze]

yo.. id love to hear more abt ur ocs..... theyre fuckin epic

AaaaAAAA aight,,,,,,,let’s do this

More info about these guys will be below!!

So we got:

Mark the Magic 8 Ball, Subject: Wishes/Magic

After springing to life when Yellow asked if “Magic was real”, He’s very upbeat yet very stern when it comes to his lessons, he will literally grant you whatever wish you’d like but will not revert whatever consequences the wish brings. His pyramid has the ability to reveal what the future brings at a glance, but it drains him at times when certain requests are made (ex. what’s gonna happen In 15 years…)

for the Trio, Yellow wishes for a unicorn (which ends horribly wrong), and Bird wishes for fancy clothes (which ends poorly as well), and at the end, Red wishes for everything to be as it was before, and Mark agreed, disappearing after the wish was granted.

Next is Jaír the Mirror (Subject: Past reflections, bad luck)

Red and Bird decide to bring Yellow to a small park nearby, but beforehand, they have to clean up some leaves that have fallen outside. Red takes up the job while Bird cleans around the house, leaving Yellow in his room, preparing his mittens and scarves and jacket. As he was, he found a small mirror and decided to play around with his hair. But as he does so, he nearly drops the mirror, but thankfully catches it. He sighs in relief, only to hear a voice say, “That was a close one, surely you must be relieved.”

Jaír then goes on about how mirrors are used, and how reflecting on past decisions are similar to the reflection of a mirror. He then whispers about breaking a mirror, and the superstition around it. Yellow is now paranoid, and tries to leave the room to find Duck and Red, but Jaír lures Yellow back, and tells him to look at him. As he hesitantly does so, he can see the body of Red and Duck, lying lifelessly on the ground behind him. This makes him panic, and feel guilty, hence he hasn’t been able to check up on them to see if they were ready or ok. Jaír taunts poor Yellow, but soon, Yellow decides he’s had enough, and throws Jaír on the ground, smashing him into bits. Things get quiet, as Yellow is left recollecting his thoughts…

Before spirits began to dash out of the broken mirror.

The Spirits, being those of Red and Bird. Distressed and angry, they begin to fly around Yellow, blaming him for their deaths and tormenting him, and soon, Yellow curls up in a ball, and sobs, begging for forgiveness.

And soon, everything goes quiet.

Yellow looks up, and realizes that the sun was now filling his room with light; as he slowly sat up. He heard footsteps, and the door opened to reveal,

Red and Bird. Their eyes filled with relief and worry as they ran towards Yellow and embraced him into a big hug. The only thing Yellow managed to say was,

“I’m sorry.” And

“You saw him too, didn’t you.”

Now! Coronia the Crown!! (Subject: Manners and Royalty/Leadership)

The trio was playing a small game of ‘dress up’, as they moved onto the theme of medevil ages, and Bird decided to be a knight, Red was a servant and Yellow, wanted to be a king. He digged around in a large box filled with clothing and found a Shiny crown, and a red cape. As soon as he finished dressing himself up, he beamed with pride and said,

“I am the king!”

And no sooner than later..

“You hear that? He’s the King!”

The three look up and see that the Crown now had eyes, a mouth, and arms, as it patted Yellows head and began to sing.

His lesson teaches the three about the medieval times and what it meant to be royal, as well as the manners and prom and proper way to be seen. He goes on about how the king is seen as perfect and loving, his knight brave and modest, and his servant loyal and trusting. They are all soon in full-apparel, Bird in shining armor, Red in servant apparel and Yellow covered with red and purple clothing, with jewels and diamonds all over.

But things go downhill once Yellow becomes too kind; he lets Bird take what he would like as well as Red and his ‘people’, and Coronia lectures him about how he had to keep his riches and keep limits; if not then he would be used. Yellow understands quickly and stops everyone, which soon leads to a angered mob (excluding red and bird, who tried to fiend them off)

Coronia then tells Yellow that in order to be king, punishment must be apart of the lifestyle. If anyone dared disobey him, they’d be punished, or even worse; executed. Coronia forced Red and Bird to grab people and bring them to a guillotine, but they refused, believing that it was now being taken way to far. Coronia, unpleased and with a snap of his finger, suddenly had Red beneath the guillotine, tied up and ready to be executed. Yellow stopped and threw Coronia down, and quickly ran over to help his friend from the guillotine. And this angered Coronia. He said, that he’d either execute red or bird, or execute the king.

But as he reached towards the three, he suddenly began to glitch out, and soon, the three were poofed back into their home; the guillotine gone, the armor and suit, gone.

All that was left, was the red cloak.

The crown was no where to be seen.

Now we got Palomi the Phone!! (Subject: Self-comparison and self-esteem)

So, one day, Red finds a small cell phone in a cabinet, and decided to show Bird and Yellow. He tried to turn it on, but, it was dead.

Interested in finding out what the phone could do, he went off to find a charger in the cabinets.

But as he did, a ding came from the living room, with a small gasp of shock and admiration.

Red walked back and realized that the phone was now in Yellows hands, the screen on with a bright, glowing face staring up at Yellow.

“Hello! What can I help you with today?”

And this begins her lesson. She tells the trio about social media and the cliques online, and soon tells them about the comparison of fashion, looks and lifestyle that many do inspired by social media. And soon, this brings the three under some sort of spell. Red is determined to capture every moment with Bird and Yellow. Bird is determined to be as good looking as possible, and Yellow is determined to become stronger and gain muscles. Palomi supports them on their journey, giving them tips and advice, but soon, things go bad. Palomi scolds Bird for wearing bland clothing; she yells at Red for not cleaning up the house more for photos, and is disappointed in Yellows attempts to exercise. She then leads them overboard, refusing to let Yellow eat much of anything and exercise day and night, making Red decorate everything to look like a perfect household, and making Bird spend hundreds an hundreds on clothes and make-up. Soon, Bird decides that enough is enough. He goes over to Palomi, but she quickly takes a snapshot of him, which blinds him for a second. She then yells. “HA! You’re reputation! You’re reputation is TAINTED!! Say goodbye to your followers dearie, they’ve ALL seen your true colors…” She then taunts all of them as the three receive hateful messages and comments, and it drives Bird and Yellow into a hysteria. But Red? He barricades through alll the hate and comments and manages to shut Palomi down, permanently. And soon, they are in the living room once again, the phone in Red’s hand. Bird was now in his regular clothing, Yellow was now fed and nourished, and the house was as perfect as it was before.

Red then goes over and places the phone back, locking it away permanently. 

And finally?? We have?? Shimara the Soap Bar (Subject: Hygiene/ Habits)

One day, the three are doing some cleaning around the house, and Yellow is all finished with what he had to do (make his bed, fold his clothes, etc.) and he just starts to play with his hair, a small habit that he has. He then begins to hear, humming, coming from the bathroom? The hums were a high pitched sound, it was surely not Red or Duck..

Yellow went on to investigate, and soon saw that the small bar of soap was humming. As soon as Yellow stepped in, she turned around and smiled. 

“My apologies dear! Humming is a habit of mine…whats yours?”

So this is the start of her lesson, and Yellow follows her as she goes over to Red and then to Bird, gathering the three and teaching them about habits.

She begins with the good habits, such as exercising at a good rate every day, eating a balanced diet, cleaning, etc. and soon, the trio follow her habits.

But then she brings up the negative habits, such as nail-biting, skipping meals, etc. and the trio begin to obtain those habits. Yellow with nail biting, Bird with skipping meals and Red being an excessive coffee drinker. The effects soon hit the three hard, and they try to find a way to stop these bad habits. Shimara simply tells them that there isnt a way to stop them, that theyll be stuck with these habits forever, before humming back into the bathroom, her hums becoming quieter and quieter.

Yellow seemed to follow her, while Red and Bird tried to fight off the urges of the habits, before the music died down, and soon, everything was silent.

Red no longer had the urge to drink coffee. Bird was now eating a comfortable, healthy meal.

But Yellow, was gone.

holy crap, this was very VERY long but. I managed to come up with what role these oc’s would play if they were in the series hooghfgh

but!!! i hope that you like them!!!!!!  

[two-are-the-trees]

Deeper Analysis: “It’s a Good Life” from The Twilight Zone

Ok so I mentioned in my last Twilight Zone episode countdown that I was going to talk further about this particular episode, which happens to be, in my opinion, the scariest episode of the entire series. It’s an episode deviod of outright visual horror, devoid of aliens or robots or voices from the grave, and yet it remains utterly bone-chilling for audiences even today. And perhaps it is especially today’s audience that can really begin to understand the horrible significance of this story. 

The episode begins strangely. Rather than showing us a short scene to introduce the characters and setting before Rod Serlin’s introduction, Rod comes out and addresses the audince directly, claiming that this episode of The Twilight Zone is “somewhat unique.” He states that a small town has been cut off from the rest of the world by a “monster” and then goes on to explain how the monster can create and destroy things according to his every whim using only his mind, and that everyone in town lives in fear of his power and cruelty. This opening is jarring and unnerving right of the bat, as Rod Serling’s strange emphasis on the importance of this episode indicates that even the host himself regards this one with a particularly serious air. We are left, too, in suspense about who or what the monster actually is, as Rod Serling saves this bit of information for the very end of his introduction. And rightly so as we learn, much to our surprise, that the monster is merely a child, a child that happens to have psychic abilites. Immediately the uncanny atmosphere with which the episode began increases tenfold as we are left to wonder what terrible events could have unfolded for Rod Serling to unflinchingly call this child a monster.

Well as it turns out, a child with psychic powers is actually the perfect recipe for a monster. Anthony, the monster in question, being a child with a limited sense of how the adult world operates and with no sense of responsibility, abuses his complete control over this town. Characters mention that they are running low on certain supplies like soap and alcohol, specifically because Anthony, being a child, sees no need for these things and therefore doesn’t allow them into his closed-off town. 

It’s also clear that Anthony has had his powers from an early age, as it appears he has been raised with this power in mind. He has no compassion, empathy, or consideration for others, an indication that he has never been disciplined or extensively educated in these matters for fear of his powers. Because of this, he uses these powers however he wants, which usually involves torture and violence. He creates horrible creatures like three-headed gophers, mutates farm animals, and kills any animal he doesn’t like. When he “makes TV” for all his neighbors, he creates a violent program of one dinosaur brutally killing another.

But the most terrible part of this episode is Anthony’s violence against other humans in town. All of the adults are petrified by Anthony, and force themselves to smile all the time all constantly repeat that anything Anthony does is a “real good thing” no matter how horrible. The reason for this is because Anthony can read peoples’ minds and if he hears any “bad thoughts” in anyone’s head, he will do unspeakable things to them. In one scene, Anthony recalls a time when someone had a bad thought about him and had to “make him go on fire.” He also dulled his own aunt’s mind and severly limited her mental capabilities for the same reason. Therefore, all the townspeople have essentially brainwashed themselves into behaving in a cheery manner all the time to avoid accidently thinking a bad thought. The images of some of these people forcing themselves to smile and say “It’s a real good thing!” even through their tears of anguish is devestating to watch and creates an escalating feeling of tension and fear. This all comes to a head when one man finally snaps, hoping that someone will finally work up the nerve to kill Anthony, but alas no one does and Anthony turns him into a nightmarish jack-in-the-box, which still retains the man’s lifeless head. 

Anthony’s power and violence is entirely dependent on his whim and is impossible to predict, hence the reason why he has so thoroughly enslaved everyone in his town. He claims, “I hate anyone who doesn’t like me!” and doesn’t hesitate a moment to punish or exclude those who don’t line up in accordance to his every petty desire. At the end of the episode, he decides to make it snow simply because he wants to, not understanding, or not caring, that it will ruin half of the town’s crops, dooming everyone to possible starvation. 

Rod Serling ends this episode by simply saying “no comment.” A wise move, perhaps, as it encourages the audience to do a little more thinking if they want to find a meaning in this episode for themselves. And while there are a lot of different people, places, and periods in history we can draw comparisons to, I think the scariest notion of all is how many comparisons we can draw between the monstrous Anthony and one Donald Trump. 

Firstly their upbringing or “privilege.” It’s no surprise that Donald Trump clearly did not recieve an education on tact or compassion during his childhood. Growing up wanting for nothing in a wealthy family (with a 1 million dollar from his dad I might add) Trump obviously has tremendous amounts of power and privilege over others inherently, in the same way that Anthony has had his ability to control others from an early age. Trump and Anthony use this power and privilege in a similar way; bullying and intimidation. Trump has been known to show cruelty toward disadvantaged groups (the poor, the disabled, refugees, the list goes on and on) and has no compassion where it is required of him (mass shootings, the California fires, ect.) much like how Anthony shows cruelty toward animals. They seemingly lack any sort of empathy. Obviously there are those in positions of power that do have empathy and compassion, however, those who were raised with unhindered power with no discipline or instruction on how to behave will exhibit behavior like that of Trump and Anthony. 

Secondly is their threatening and manipulative nature. Seeing as how I am writing this post during the third longest government shutdown in U.S. history, a shutdown caused entirely by Trump’s unfounded desire to build a border wall that no one else approves of, I already have a pretty solid comparison. Trump’s tendancy to gravitate toward drastic measures, much like how Anthony constantly threatens violence, has everyone in a constant panic that he will upset the delicate balance of government. Trump has caused foreign relations scares in the past with his feuding with North Korea and he threatens that he will continue the government shutdown indefinitely, leaving thousands of government employees without pay and sending the economy into a spiral. Much like Anthony’s drastic displays of power, Trump’s constant threats leave the public in a constant state of unease. 

Lastly, and this was the comparison that first led me to think more about this episode in the first place, is the very clear way in which these two figures cannot or choose not to understand anything that lies outside their selfish desires. Trump’s arrogance is plain; his giant gold towers and planes with his name in bold lettering on the side, his engaging with people personally on twitter when they insult him, his outrage at the many many unflattering pictures of him in circulation. His self-obsession is exactly comprable to this spoiled child in The Twilight Zone, as Anthony outright states that he hates people who don’t like him and gets incredibly angry whenever something doesn’t go his way (again, Trump’s government shutdown *cough*). They both ignore the needs of those around them, as Anthony does not provide things like soap and Trump does not provide things like healthcare or comprehesive rights for underprivileged groups. And no comparison can be clearer than the terrible effect these two have on the environment. The fear in the townspeople’s eyes as Anthony ruins all of their crops with his desire for snow reminds us all of the impending disasters that will come with climate change and Trump’s lack of environmental protection policies. 

So perhaps I should end this discussion as Rod Serling did, by simply stating “no comment,” but I do have to note that I find it more than a little distressing that there are several notable and significant comparisons that one can draw between Anthony “the monster,” a dangerously spoiled and selfish child with no understanding of how the world works and a tendency for cruelty and destruction, and Donald Trump, the current president of the United States. And clear too are the comparisons between the townspeople who back down at the opportunity to finally stand up to Anthony and the conservatives who refuse to call out Trump for his irresponsible and reprehensible actions. 

Perhaps, for our own peace of mind, these speculations are best left in The Twilight Zone. 

[diminuel]

Fic Reading List: January

I’ve done this before, but I thought I’d try to keep track of the fics I’m reading and share them with you too. I added little notes after the summary. There are all types of genres, from canon to A/B/O.

I’ve added the archive warnings in the brackets in case there were any, but didn’t include the tags. So make sure to read them.

Enjoy! ♥

I Wished for This by Piper_Halliwell1979 (Mature, 3.5k)

After the decision is made for Heaven to repopulate, Castiel is excluded from selective pairing. Since his biology will be affected anyway, he and Dean discuss the possibility of having a biological child of their own.

Post S13 mpreg. One-shot, with a calm and fluffy atmosphere.

Family by Piper_Halliwell1979 (Mature, 5.5k)

After a one night stand Castiel finds himself pregnant by Dean. After some miscommunication they come together to bring a new Winchester into the world.

Not season specific canon compliant story. A lovely story about an unexpected pregnancy and how it makes everything else fall into place.

How to Romance a Human by cloudyjenn (4k)

Based on a prompt from moonlettuce for the Renegade Angels challenge. The prompt was "Castiel tries to woo Dean using a Cosmo article entitled 20 ways to get your man."

S5 is canon compliant story. An immensely amusing fic. 

A Song of Wind and Wings by triedunture (Explicit, 10k)

The Angelborn have not been seen in Westeros in hundreds of years. Lord Dean Winchester and his brother Ser Sam arrive in Lady Ellen's Highroad Keep after receiving word that one has been taken captive.

A lovely one shot that borrows from Game of Thrones, but it’s easy to read it as a wonderful fantasy AU without any knowledge of GoT! Also features some wing care~

Untitled by jinxedambitions (Explicit)

Castiel woke in an unfamiliar bed with the aches and pains of a night spent debauching.

A nsfw one shot where Cas wakes up in a Dean’s bed and can’t remember the sex they had. So Dean decides they should do it again.

Long Exposure by Rosewhipped (Explicit, Rape/ Non-Con, 107k, WIP)

When Dean kicks Castiel out of the bunker, they have no contact for months. Once the Gadreel/Ezekiel situation is finally resolved, Dean tries to reach out, but cannot get in touch with Cas. To his horror, he soon discovers his friend has been in trouble for a long time. Dark Fic.

Still a WIP, but it’s really long and it’s a wonderful hurt!Cas story. I’ve read it twice now and it’s been a delight both times!

Timer by galaxystiel (2.1k)

Dean doesn't have a soulmate, but if he did, he swears it would be Castiel Novak.

Cute soulmate AU one-shot with a dash of angst!

To Build On Ruins by SillyBlue (18.8k)

When Dean comes of age, he's presented with a choice that is supposed to keep the Winchester pack strong and unified: exile or submission. With war having recently ended and the winter being bitter and dangerous for a young exiled alpha, Dean doesn't really have a choice but to submit. But less than four years later Sam is presented with the same impossible question and Dean's forced to act.

Dean-centric, gen story.

You Send Me by thelonelywriter (26k)

Some months go by of Dean and Cas living together without a hitch.

Some months go by of Cas and Dean living together without Cas' heats being an issue.

And some more months go by before something shifts.

It takes awhile, but Dean realizes soon enough that he's in a little too deep...

Lovely a/b/o, friends with benefits/ room mates to real mates story!

The Unclean by TheIttyBitty (Mature, 53k)

Dean should know by now to expect the worst when his brother calls him in the middle of the night with words like, we have a situation on his tongue. Still, he's more than a little surprised when Sam asks him to take in a young man recently rescued from a cult.

Castiel - malnourished, abused, and afraid - might be more than Dean can handle, but someone's got to do it. Dean searches and finds a bright, loving man buried under those years of abuse, and he'll do just about anything to help Castiel feel whole again.

This is a hurt!Cas story that focuses on the healing afterwards! Also, Dean’s a witch, but the good kind.

What Once Was Sacred by saltandbyrne (Explicit, 55k)

Los Angeles detective Dean Winchester works tirelessly to atone for the sins of his father one case at a time. When his best friend Charlie drags him to visit Sam at his new job, Dean stumbles onto a bizarre string of deaths that brings him uncomfortably close to his past.

Dean can't stop thinking about Castiel, an enigmatic DJ who plays the sexiest music Dean's ever heard. A chance encounter at Castiel's house reveals that Castiel is an incubus, and Dean must face the lies and the reality of his childhood as a hunter. Dean comes to see that he and Castiel have more in common than he thought, and that guilt can be the hardest thing to cast aside.

What I loved a lot about this story was that even though Dean had been hunting as a child, Dean convinced himself that his father had just been delusional. It’s also got great scenes scenes and an interesting plot!

Daughter of a Killer by xHaruka17x (Explicit, Violence, Rape/Non-con, 8.2k)

Her Father was a Killer. But she wanted to know why and Papa wouldn't tell her.

Dean was in prison for 16 years and this is set after he is released. It focuses on his daughter (who never met him) finding out what exactly has happened.

No Vacancy by 60r3d0m (Explicit, 2.8k)

The shower water’s ice cold but the sweat and grime on his body is enough to make him stay.

For a long time, he holds Dean’s borrowed shorts in his hands. He turns them over, feels the fabric worn soft with age. They’re favoured shorts. Slept in often because they’re comfortable and loved and maybe echo of home.

Something that Cas doesn’t have.

After the Rit Zien attacks Cas at Nora's house, Dean takes him to his motel room to treat his injuries. He ends up staying the night.

(or in other words, the very famous fanfiction gap of 9.06 Heaven Can't Wait)

I can’t get enough of fics who address 9x06, but if you’re looking for something that fixes it? This fic isn’t it, this fic attacks your emotions. Just the kind of pain I enjoy!

He Can't Sleep by 60r3d0m (mature, 18.9k)

“I wish I could stand,” Cas says.

“Yeah,” Dean says.

Cas holds up his hand, flexes it, stares and then drops it.

“This weakness is unsettling. I can’t—I can’t even hold a pitcher of water, Dean.”

Dean makes a small sound in his throat, a non-committal hum.

He’s done soaping up Cas’ hair. He grabs the sponge at his side and starts to scrub at Cas’ skin, up along his arms, his neck, down his chest. When he runs it up his legs, to his thighs, Cas shudders and then there’s a hand cupping Dean’s cheek, cold and dripping water and soap, and Dean falters, looks at him for the first time.

“Will you sleep with me?” Cas says. “Tonight?”

Dean swallows.

He says yes.

After Lucifer's possession, Castiel stops talking.

This story spans a couple of years and gives me the worst case of second-hand pining ever. All the time Dean and Cas lost to silence...! So sad! But with a happy ending.

Sunrise, once more by 60r3d0m (Mature, 3.2k)

It’s the sun rising. It’s what he thinks as he’s walking back to the cabin, where Jack and Sam will pretend that his eyes aren’t swollen red, where they’ll pretend that they didn’t see him cry as hard as he did. But the great light that comes from behind him isn’t that. The fire that ignites from the heart of the pyre isn’t the goddamn sun.

It’s Cas.

(fix-it coda for 13.01 where Cas comes back because I miss him)

Very sad at first, but then fixes everything! ;w; I also like Jack in this one. (Attention for Dean’s suicide attempt. It’s not explicit and very short, but he drives the car into a pole. Jack fixes him up.)

Rain, Rain, Go Away by angvlicmish (Explicit, 3.5k)

Cas and Dean are in love but when they’re caught by Cas’ mother Naomi she accuses Dean of rape and lands him in jail. When he is let out for insufficient evidence a few years later he has trouble adjusting and finding work. He leaves town and goes under several different alias to try and start a new life. Cas is determined to find him to apologise and when he does find Dean he continues to pursue him even though Dean is still mad at Cas for not standing up for him.

The fic is slightly different from the summary, which was the original prompt for the story. It’s a sad story, but one with a hopeful ending. Attention: for mentions of Cas harming himself and wanting to commit suicide.

A Winter’s Tale by NorthernSparrow��(64k)

Summary: Set in mid S9. Cas is sick and Dean finds a journal that Cas kept about his time alone as a human. Retelling of first half of S9 from Cas’s POV. Sick fic, hurt/comfort, journal fic. Lots of Cas angst/loneliness and a correspondingly equal volume of Dean guilt. Holiday fic too - covers Cas’s Thanksgiving and ends with Christmas.

Canon compliant hurt!Cas story that never fails to wound me and comfort me at the same time.

Spontaneous combustion by KoshiSekisen (18.4k)

Summary: “So you’re saying,” Sam repeated, his eyebrows arched high in disbelief, a notepad in one hand and a pen in the other. “Janine just…”

“She… poofed,” Sheriff Emily Burke insisted, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers.

An interesting case fic. It’s gen and it’s got some nice hurt!Cas~

Rutnam Shore by mnwood (21k)

Summary: Dean Winchester has never been past the city limits of the sleepy town of Rutnam Shore. Except in his dreams, where he travels the country in a classic car and fights mythical beings with his little brother. It's the only time he gets to see his brother, since Sam died in a car crash when they were kids. Dean wants nothing more than to get as far away from Rutnam Shore as he can, but unfortunately he's afraid of driving and feels like he's stuck.

I can’t say too much about the story without spoiling a major plot point! It’s interesting and satisfying to read! It focuses almost exclusively on Dean and him trying to figure our just what exactly is going on.