#and she was definitely doing more than her share of the housework early in the marriage

[nelsonswilbury]

Kaksjdhd I'm so sorry I definitely meant to send that Linda and Paul ask to someone else but my drunk ass can't do anything right. Btw you're totally right and that was a good point. So maybe my drunk ass picked the right person after all. Or maybe my hand eye coordination struggles after the fourth shot of vodka. Both can be true. Anyways, I also liked the comments. Although tbh I don't personally like John and Paul, it just doesn't make me wet the way it does for other people (I don't mean sexually I just mean in general). But I wonder about Paul romanticizing that relationship. Paul did more or less say that Linda was or should be a god. Which is very sweet, but I think it falls into romanticizing tbh. But also the man has been through a LOT and Linda was probably at least at one point his only path to peace and joy. How do you cope with your only true hope being taken away? We would all be lucky if we coped as well as paul. I think Paul probably makes it into something beautiful, but that's also just how aging works, and how loss works. It doesn't have to be true to matter.

I figured dw vodka can do that to the best of us 😆

Tbh there was a lot of trauma attachment going on Paul's part if you consider the start of his relationship with Linda. Same as with John. All of Paul's major attachments (by major I mean romantic or semi-romantic life altering ones) were formed after he suffered major losses - John after his mother's death, Linda after/during the breakup with John/The Beatles. The fact that he married Heather so soon after Linda's death also points to it, it's just a Paul thing.

As for romanticizing, it's just human and also it's understandable for Paul to be extra respectful while talking about a dead spouse. If there was any friction in the marriage - which I highly doubt - Paul wouldn't talk about that in public and definitely wouldn't say anything his kids wouldn't want to be said about their mother. He is responsible for Linda's memory and legacy.

[our-blood-is-our-ink]

4, 6, 45, 10, & 18 for Claire and Agatha?

I'm assuming this is for the Paper Rings universe because so far that's the only place where I've paired them.

4. First impression of each other? Was it love at first sight?

There's actually a parallel here, between Agatha and her father, because Claire finds a post Salem!Agatha living alone and rapidly becoming consumed by dark magic.

Agatha, for her part, is deeply suspicious of Claire.

Here's a mysterious woman who somehow managed to find Agatha in the middle of nowhere, and knows a surprising amount about the magic she's using.

Claire, however, sees a lot her of younger self in Agatha.

A broken girl who has turned to unhealthy coping mechanism in an attempt to make herself feel fixed.

So, it wasn't love at first sight, though there was definitely attraction there that played a part in both of them sticking around long enough for them to become something else other than strangers.

6. Any tasks that are always left up to one person?

If Agatha can get away with it, she won't do any of the housework in terms of cleaning. She hates having to figure out where things go and how clean is clean enough.

She does, however, frequently do the dishes, because she always feels bad if Claire's the one doing all the housework.

Initially, when it was just Claire and Agatha in the early 1700s, they had a little farm, one Claire had a deep dislike for in tending to.

(Agatha always wondered why, but all what she ever got out of Claire was something about the fragility of smaller creatures.)

Agatha was perfectly fine with that though, she enjoyed tending to the animals.

10. Who drives? Cooks? Does the handiwork? Cleans? Pays the bills? Handle the public?

Agatha drives, she hates having to get into a car and not be the one behind the wheel, it stresses her out.

Cooking is a shared task, both women find the routine of it soothing, and oftentimes after work or a hard day there will be a mess in the kitchen as they both make some in silent companionship. (The kitchen is fucking huge for this sole reason. It would be excessive if it wasn't used so frequently.)

Claire has more experience in fixing things up, a result of growing up poor in the mid 1300s. That does not mean, however, Agatha doesn't do her best to fix things up around the house on her own. (And often times creating more work for Claire.)

Claire cleans. Or hires someone to clean. Agatha hates cleaning.

They both do. At some point Agatha had started playing the stock market, and also invested in multiple start-ups that ended up becoming huge. She has enough money to pay anyone she has to to keep her and her wealth completely anonymous. She doesn't really work, she prefers experimenting and doing side hobbies. Occasionally she'll pull out a master's degree out of thin air and go teach for a handful of decades at a college, or she'll pay her way into a science lab and help with research. (She's smart, okay?)

Claire works, even though she also has enough money to comfortably live off of for a few lifetimes. Eventually she'd like to win the American presidency, she's bored, and being president and helping people is a good way to combat that.

18. What are their dates like? How long do/did they date? Do they ever feel the need to take a break from each other?

Initially, during their first relationship, it was mostly hiking dates, though they often would stay in and cuddle close by the fireplace as well.

Later, when they get together after Reader, they like to travel for their dates, they like going out into the middle of bumfuck nowhere where no one can bother them. However, given Claire's job, that's a rarity, and so they go to expensive restaurants where they can get a private room. Essentially, they value their privacy, and that's what they want on a date together.

The first time they dated, it lasted for about thirty or forty years. (As near immortals, that isn't a very long time to be together in the grand scheme of things.)

The second time around... Well... No comment.

(I will say before Agatha leaves in Paper Rings, they've all been together for five or six years at that point, if not a little longer than that.)

They do, actually. There are times one or both of them just needs a complete break from the other, and while it always hurts, they can't help the way they feel.

45. Any special dreams or goals they have as a couple? Any heartbreaks? Regrets?

Look. It's not as if Agatha doesn't want to bond with Claire. She's just terrified of doing it.

Definitely the time Agatha fucked up the spell she had been trying to do and having it rebound onto her, causing her to eventually just take her things and disappear out of Claire's life for hundreds of years.

And then there was the time Claire weaponized Agatha's trauma against her. (Which, not to be fair, but to be clear, Agatha did do that first. Which doesn't make what either of them did okay.)

Claire regrets she won't have kids, if only because Agatha so badly wanted them with her, even though she knows she'd never be able handle being a parent.

Agatha just regrets pushing it so hard, even though at the time she had been unaware of the why.

[cancerjupiter]

🌱earth moons🌱

Those with earthy Moons react in a very grounded, matter-of-fact way. The reaction may be so self-contained in those with Taurus or Capricorn Moon, in fact, that others may wonder if there has been any reaction. Those with Virgo Moon, on the other hand, react rather quickly, mentally, and sometimes nervously to any stimulus in a way obvious to everyone, even if the person is trying to contain his or her emotional reaction. Just like the earth itself, those with an Earth Moon have a crust over their emotional reactions; and they prefer to present a certain form to the public rather than to reveal their vulnerabilities.

taurus moon

The Moon is extraordinarily happy in the comfortable, stable sign of Taurus, for the emotions are steady and the person has little self-doubt. Those with the Moon in Taurus are not easily perturbed, even by powerful attacks or shocking events that would strongly affect others. They are in fact amazingly resilient, bouncing back from any defeat, disappointment, or trauma. Perfect examples are politicians Bill Clinton and Joe Biden, and celebrities Demi Lovato and Lindsay Lohan; who, despite unmerciful attacks, still manage to have their shit together and maintain at least some degree of popularity.

The poise with which Taurus Moon people face life’s demands and unpredictability is remarkable, and they therefore have a steadying influence on others, who appreciatively value their reliability. Note that I said “reliability,” not necessarily readiness! This sign is known for being the slowest in the zodiac, moving actively only when they are good and ready and insisting on their own pace in everything they do in life. Their inner contentment and resistance to change can thus make them frustrating to deal with if their considerable stubbornness causes them to dig in their heels to resist what you want. The other side of the coin is their remarkable persistence when they are focused on attaining a certain goal.

Those with Taurus Moon are attuned to the rhythms of nature and the earth, and this gives them their particular pace of life and much of their strength. They are notably physical and sensual, and have a great need for the “pleasures of life.” And they insist on taking the time to enjoy them. This unique attunement leads to a trust in earthly life that enables them to accept others with few demands and to take life as it comes. They are pleased with life (generally) and rather pleased with themselves. This can of course result in smugness, conceited self-satisfaction, and self-indulgent laziness. As Grant Lewi wrote, the key to improving oneself for Taurus Moon is to “turn self-satisfaction into active self-confidence”.

Emotionally, those with this Moon sign are not at all cold, but neither do they readily reveal their feelings. They are good listeners and are usually warmly responsive and solidly supportive, but not gushingly effusive. They really prefer not to allow anything to affect them. Some comments from questionnaire responses add additional perspectives to this lunar type:

1. “Seems very positive, giving men good relationships with women. It also appears to give talent in crafts such as cooking and other home arts.”

2. “ … sensual, heightened sense of material/physical aesthetics (e.g., clothing, home, colors, etc.), wonderful sense of humor, stubborn, and sometimes impervious to what’s going on beneath the surface of things.”

People with the Moon in Taurus like to be touched, especially to be hugged. Also, I’ve noticed a certain resistance to change. This resistance ranges (in different people) between a reluctance to accept the moods of another and a reluctance to allow any out-of-the-ordinary spontaneity to enter their life (usually hate surprises).

virgo moon

Those with Virgo Moon need a sense of order in their own minds and in the environment to feel comfortable and secure. This leads to their instinctive analytical reaction to all life experience, sorting their perceptions and thoughts into categories and discriminating between them according to their personal principles or prejudices. This need for order also motivates their obsession with neatness and cleanliness. They likewise feel more secure by making definite improvements in their environment, in their scientific, artistic, or intellectual pursuits, or—something not always appreciated with this sign—in other people. In fact, as one woman wrote in a questionnaire, “Sometimes they can be busybodies, putting others’ lives in order with advice—usually not so tactful. They’re so busy organizing friends’ lives that they forget about their own”. This “workaholic” tendency can also manifest as a broad range of criticism from afar directed even at total strangers who, evidently, just don’t measure up to the Virgo level of perfection.

Being helpful makes them feel better about themselves and aids them in overcoming their habitual self-doubt and sense of personal imperfection. In fact, “perfectionism” is a keyword for Virgo, and their unavoidable awareness of their own imperfections leads often to excessive self-consciousness, sometimes of a type so severe as to render them unable to use their genuine gifts with any confidence. Their tendency to notice the imperfections of others, and to voice those observations far too often, frequently makes the other person feel uncomfortably and unproductively self-conscious. Those with Virgo Moon would do better to heed their deep need to serve and to help others or improve things in the outer world. By doing so, they can eventually gain a sense of having improved themselves—at least in the modest way they will allow themselves to acknowledge. Virgo is the most modest sign in the zodiac—one of the few, in fact. Virgo Moon people can seem shy and reserved.

Habitually nervous types with a tendency to worry, Virgo Moon people often find their personal tranquility and self-validation in work and compulsive “busyness.” Work also provides an escape from the unpleasant emotions or depressing feelings of guilt or worthlessness that so often afflict those with this Moon position. But, because emotions interfere with productivity, as Donna Cunningham points out in Moon Signs, they are conveniently put aside or suppressed in the routine of daily life. Hence, Virgo Moons are among the few people who love all kinds of petty, boring activities — even housework. A friend with this placement even admitted to dreaming about being a mother/grandmother, so she could do chores and serve her family all day (of course, she’s also a Cancer Rising).

Doubt and skepticism pervade their mode of thinking and reacting, and of course there is always something to criticize in any person, place, thing, or concept. The infinitely small is always available as a target! This constant mental tension and the sensitivity of their nervous system, and their hyper-attunement to hygiene and purity, make these folks fascinated by and eager for involvement in the areas of nutrition, biological sciences, natural therapies, the healing arts, and/or the medical professions. This natural affinity also, however, bends them toward hypochondria, at its worst, or at least to a sensitive digestive and/or intestinal system. The quality of the food they eat is of utmost importance, since it directly affects their nerves and mental state, not just their digestion.

Their talent for detailed work is without equal (except for those with certain other planets in Virgo), and they often get great satisfaction from employing their natural craftsmanship in the practical or fine arts. Because their mind can always find something wrong with any idea or plan, indecision often afflicts those with this Moon placement. Moral indecision as well is often observed, as their perfectionist and puritanical tendencies battle with their more practical or sensual needs.

capricorn moon

Those with Capricorn Moon, as is also the case when other major planets or the Ascendant are in Capricorn, seem unnaturally old and serious when they are young, but they can lighten up as they grow older. In their youth, they are unusually capable, disciplined, and conservative, taking the well-trodden path to their goals of worldly achievement or to follow a vocation. Their real confidence is late-blooming, as their sense of inner security develops over time and they feel that their age at least, if not their accomplishments, has earned them some respect they have always craved. Capricorn Moon people eventually learn to relax somewhat and to trust life and other people to a greater extent. The aura of melancholy that those with Capricorn attunement so often carry around with them can also slowly dissipate over time, sometimes helped by a more and more adventurous—but dry—sense of humor.

The fluctuating, responsive, emotional Moon is not at all naturally comfortable in a sign that is often rigid and distant, and prides itself on not revealing any sign of vulnerability or personal need. People with Capricorn Moon have instinctive reactions to life that are characterized by self-control and caution, and sometimes by a defensiveness or negativity that is almost shocking. They feel that they need to manipulate and control the world (and their feelings) in order to attain the power, authority, and recognition that they deeply desire. In fact, they are most secure within themselves when their identity is confirmed by a social role, title, specific duty, or mantle of authority. Even at an early age, Capricorn Moon people are comfortable assuming responsibility and feel perfectly at home in the role of provider, protector, or organizer. They are most relaxed and truly themselves when they are carrying some weight, or when others have to depend on them! Very hardworking, these folks share with Virgo first place on the list of people who absolutely love to work, which often ultimately results in professional success. They may not always be fun, but they will often get the job done.

Perhaps the most oppressive thing about this group occurs in those who become too obsessed with being recognized as important and having authority; sometimes, there is a persistent “one-upmanship” that pervades their personal and professional lives. The constant drive to be “on top” can cripple their capacity for any human intimacy and eliciting automatic distrust from others. As psychologist-astrologer Glenn Perry, Ph.D., wrote,

“The tight controlled responses often lead to loneliness and despair as it prevents the individual from flowing and responding to the changing mood of others. Moon in Capricorn nurtures by taking charge and giving orders. This dry mechanical approach to feelings is not sympathetic and tends to imply that the other is incompetent. Unable to respond directly to emotional needs, Moon in Capricorn gives the impression of being callous, hardened and unaffected by the tender side of life. (Aspects magazine, Fall 1981)”

If the emotional suppression and denial become chronically extreme and rigid, the result can be a person who others may respect but not love. However, from another view (from the inside, so to speak) of this Moon sign’s emotional nature, I quote here from an interview with a Capricorn Moon young woman who characterized herself to me as having “a seriousness about the emotional life, an interest in getting down to bare bones, an impatience with small talk, and a need to get to the core emotionally.” She continues:

“All Capricorn Moons I know (there have been a lot) have a certain gravity to them, an ability to take the emotional life seriously. The women especially are almost never giggly or flirty — we’re too serious to flirt much. The women are kind of ‘masculine’ I guess, sort of businesslike in their manner (men too actually… it’s not a placement I ever see that is friends with everyone and instantly, openly affectionate). I think ‘a few serious, long-term friendships’ sums up all the Capricorn Moons I know.”

A questionnaire reply from another woman also emphasized that women with this capable, ambitious orientation are liable to feel “ambivalent about their sexual identity,” although they have strong physical needs, and that women with Capricorn Moon have “a great need for appreciation to develop their self-worth”. Two other questionnaires confirmed the self-disclosure quoted above regarding the practical agenda underlying emotional commitments. The words they used were “cool in affections and looks out for self” and “very calculating—not necessarily bad—just a lot of planning, no spur-of-the-moment reactions.” Another quite thorough questionnaire reply from an experienced practitioner of astrology included the following:

“this Moon placement shows marked proficiency in handling the self in the material world, or at least a lot of concern over and attunement to material affairs. They are very shrewd in taking care of their financial needs. Very often they are involved in some secure structure, like working for the government, etc. They like a secure financial position. For all, they take things very seriously; they approach many things cautiously. This is also a very sexual placement in laid-back ways.”

In conclusion, the Capricorn demeanor of slowness, caution, and hesitation should never mislead you. They may be conservative in most attitudes, but they are actually very progressive and results-oriented in action. They just don’t like to make mistakes.

[come-on-shitty-boys]

//general dating headcannons//

Characters: Daishou Suguru/ Kita Shinsuke/ Yamaguchi Tadashi

Warnings: i don’t think any??

Word Count: 2K (~650 a piece)

Notes: i am soft for kita shinsuke. that is all.

Daishou Suguru

He’s a top tier boyfriend and no one is allowed to tell me otherwise

He is a first-class WEENIE for his s/o and would genuinely do anything for them

But noooo y’all hate him smh

Daishou is the kind of person who puts every important date of your relationship in his phone.  He is never missing your anniversary or your birthday or any other important relationship dates.  

He’s a good morning/good night texter too.  I know that everyone thinks he’s an asshole, but after being broken up with for focusing too much on a club, he doesn’t want you to feel like he only cares about volleyball.  If he’s going to be busy for a few hours, he’s going to tell you so you don’t think he’s just flat out ignoring you

I promise, he will let you do anything to him if you just ask.  Want to try to curl his hair?  Cool, just please don’t burn him.  You want to pluck his eyebrows?  Go ahead.  He doesn’t mind.  Did you see this really cute nail design that you want to try? Suguru already has his hand held out towards you so you can practice.

He’s not telling anyone that he does all of this so willingly though.  He has to maintain some essence of coolness

Literally the whole volleyball team knows that he’s a total simp, so idk who the hell he thinks he’s hiding it from

His love language is quality time, so as long as he’s with you, he’s perfectly content.  Daishou will happily just sit next to you for hours, sending each other memes or stupid tiktoks.

When it comes to actually going out on dates, he’s really simple.  He likes picnics in the park or taking hikes or going stargazing.  It feels very intimate to him and allows a certain degree of vulnerability that can’t be found anywhere else.

You guys went stargazing on your first date and he brought you flowers and the two of you shared snacks it was all very cute and there was no way that you weren’t going to go on a second date with him

Speaking of flowers-

One time you made him mad over something really stupid and he brought you some flowers as a partial apology for him being overdramatic, but the card just said “fuck you” in really pretty lettering, but there was a really small, “but also, I love you” on the other side.

The two of you pick up random hobbies together?  For no other reason than the two of you spend an awful lot of time just sitting at each other's house?  So, you decided to do something other than just sit on your phones for h o u r s

You’ve made those giant arm-knitted blankets together.  One time, you tried to make soap, but it didn’t smell good so that hobby got scrapped.  You’ve tried to learn how to roller skate together, but Daishou almost broke his arm so you thought maybe something less dangerous like puzzles.  But, those got old really fast.

Please for the love of god run your hand over his arms.  He will be putty in your hands.  He loves it so much.

Better yet?  Put your hands on his biceps when he kisses you and he’s a happy boy.  His arms are the feature that he’s most proud of, so knowing that you like them too is a big boost to his ego.

He has two main nicknames for you smh.  When he’s teasing or just being a little shit, he calls you sweetheart.  If he actually wants to be affectionate, Daishou calls you babygirl.

He’ll pull you into his lap and pepper your face in kisses while telling you, “I love you, babygirl, you know that?”

If you call him ‘Sugu’ or just ‘ru’ he may actually die right there.   It just plucks something in his heart that sends him to cloud-9.  

Suguru really is a fantastic boyfriend who just wants you to be happy ;-; He wants you to smile and laugh and be comfortable around him, because he’s here for the long-haul.  When Daishou falls in love, he falls hard

Kita Shinsuke

An absolute sweetheart

He’s going to take care of you so good

Kita for sure walked straight up to you and asked you on a date.  He gave zero fucks.  Nerves?  Kita has never heard of them before. If you reject him, you reject him.  It’s not like it’s the end of the world.

You met his grandmother really early into the relationship because she’s really important to Kita, so he needed to know that she approved of you before fully committing to a relationship with you.

But, I promise, she loves you and now that Kita is finally dating someone, she’s going to pester him about wedding plans once he comes home from your date.  She doesn’t care that this is only the second date.  She wants to see her grandson married.

Kita genuinely loves domestic life?  Please please please come over and cook with him.  If you offer to help him with the dishes, he may propose right there.  Okay not literally but you know what i mean.  Come over on Saturdays for laundry and gardening.

I should mention that dating Kita isn’t always chores and housework, but even when it is, it really doesn’t feel like it?  The two of you joke around, definitely throwing dirt at one another while you’re pulling weeds in the garden or flicking water at him while doing the dishes.  

He’s an “acts of service” kind of person.  Little things like having your favorite snacks in the cabinets for when you come over or turning the heat up before you get there so it’ll be warm because he knows you get gold. You left your math binder at his house once, so he took the time to put all of the loose papers where he knew you would’ve wanted them.

If you’re a person who gets periods, he has pads and extra painkillers stocked in the bathroom cabinet.

Please note that Kita has zero shame in buying you period products.  You need tampons?  Okay.  What size and what brand?  Do you want anything else?  He can get some snacks while he’s at the store too.  You can say no and he’s going to pick up a package of pizza rolls anyway.  He knows you well enough that you’ll say no, but only tell him that you're hungry the minute he gets home.  He’s played this game before.  He knows. 

It makes his grandmother so proud, seeing him love and care so wholeheartedly for another person that isn’t related to him.  She just knows that he’ll make an excellent husband to you one day

She cares about you just as much as he does.  Kita mentioned that you weren’t feeling well once, and she packed up a bunch of leftovers and some tea for him to take over to you, pretty much telling him not to come back until you were feeling well again.

Kita doesn’t beat around the bush, so if he has something he wants to tell you, he’s just going to say it.  Communication is really important to him and he believes that it’s the key to a healthy and happy relationship.

But, because of this, it took him a while to say I love you.  He didn’t want to just say it, you know?  He wanted to genuinely mean it. He believes that that phrase gets tossed around too easily. So, it was a few months before he actually said it, but you knew that he was serious when he did.

He likes to kiss the top of your head.  If you’re tall, he enjoys kisses to your temple just as much.

I 10/10 recommend a Kita.  He would love you wholeheartedly and, don’t tell his grandmother, he really does want to spend the rest of his life with you.

Yamaguchi Tadashi

Another absolute sweetheart of a boyfriend oml

But, I promise that you’re probably going to have to make the first move if you want anything to come from this.  

He’s just so shy and nervous when talking to people that he finds cute ;-;

Although, there is a chance that Tsukishima told him to get over himself and just ask you out.  

“It’s not that big of a deal.  If they say no, you move on.” 

Shut up, Tsukki.

Yamaguchi really likes to hold your hand.  It’s really grounding for him, so if he’s ever starting to get panicked, he’ll reach for your hand.

Before every game, he has to hold your hand and he’ll squeeze it three times before he has to go.  So, if he starts to panic during the game, he has a fresh memory of the feeling of your hand in his.

Yamaguchi lets you wear his jacket during games ;-;  He didn’t even think about it as something to show you off as his, he was just worried that you might get chilly in the stands, so he offered for you to take it.

But, now he’s obsessed with how cute you look with his jacket around your shoulders that he’s letting you hold onto it whenever he gets the opportunity.  

Study dates study dates study dates

The two of you will either go to a cafe or a library and claim a table and just hang out and do homework together.  If you’re struggling with something, he’ll walk you through it.  He moved his chair close to yours so that your knees just barely brushed against one another.  

He loves to bring you little gifts.  If he sees something in a shop that reminds him of you or if he thinks you might like it, he’ll buy it and give it to you the next time he sees you.

He usually doesn’t like nicknames?  He'd rather just be called by his actual name, but something about you calling him ‘dashi’ just feels right and he really likes it.

Tadashi has a lot of insecurities, especially in the start of your relationship with him.  He doesn’t understand why you’re so willing to be with him?? He’s just a bundle of nerves and he’s convinced that you could do so much better than him, but yet you still stay with him?  

It took him a really long time to get comfortable with the idea of being in a relationship and realize that you weren’t going to just dump him because you really got to know him, but when he does get comfortable, it’s like he’s a totally new person.  His nervous laughter actually becomes more full and free and he smiles a lot wider.  He isn’t afraid to tease you and he’s a lot more open about his emotions.

Tsukki is the first one to really notice just how good you are for Yamaguchi.  Tadashi isn’t super open with anyone but him, at least, until you came along and gave Tadashi another person that he could connect with and feel comfortable around.

Tadashi loves it when you play with the hair at the base of his neck.  It feels so comforting and he would love to just fall asleep right there with your fingers in his hair.  Everytime you play with his hair, his head immediately goes to your shoulder and he’ll wrap his arms around your midsection and tell you that he loves you.

You will never go a day without Tadashi telling you that he loves you and that you’re absolutely incredible.  He finds something to compliment you on every single day because he just wants you to know that you’re loved and, while yes, he does find you absolutely beautiful, sometimes it’s nice to be complimented on things other than physical appearance and that’s where Yamaguchi really shines.

{Taglist: @moncymonce @nicka-nell @celosiiaa @lovinnoya  and my fellow daishou suguru simp @kuronekomama​}

[archertf2]

ENTIRE TEAM IS BABIES

Chapter 4: All’s Well That Ends Well

Chapter 3

Hunter’s Bio

A/N: I’m finally done with a TF2 fic lol! It’s a miracle! Sorry it took me so long to write/finish this series! Writer’s block sucks and life kinda gets in the way so yeah lol. Hopefully I can try and finish my other TF2 series and write some more fics in the future. But for now, please enjoy and thank you for reading!

It was around 9 PM now in the badlands of New Mexico, so Hunter and Medic figured it was time to settle down for the night. Medic had put all the babies down to sleep after doing a quick check of if anybody needed a diaper change, then settled on the nearby sofa with a nice book.

Meanwhile, Hunter decided it was her turn for a shower and cleaned herself up while Medic stayed with the babies. After her nice, relaxing, and much needed shower, Hunter put on her pajamas and slippers and made her way back to the rec room.

She was a little anxious while heading back and wondered to herself whether it was because she’s so used to sneaking around when showering or because of her choice of pajamas. Hunter had on a frilly pink nightgown that wasn’t super sexy to be called lingerie, but it certainly wasn’t like the “modest” clothing she wore around the base. She definitely would’ve chosen different pajamas for the night, but unfortunately, she’s been so busy with this whole predicament that she hasn’t had the time to do her laundry, so she was basically stuck with the nightgown or actual lingerie, which she certainly did NOT feel comfortable wearing around the base.

Of course, the only person who would see her and comprehend what she was wearing would be Medic and for some reason that made her heart skip a beat (which she also couldn’t tell whether that was from anxiety or not).

“I have nothing to worry about.” She thought to herself. “The man’s seen me naked plenty of times in the lab for those annual physical exams. A little bit of skin showing won’t kill him…right?”

When Hunter entered the rec room she found Medic on the sofa with a book. His vest, tie, and boots had been taken off and put to the side as he held a book of some sort with one arm and baby Scout with the other. Little Scout was fast asleep in Medic’s big strong arms as he read his book.

Medic’s eyes were torn from the pages of his book when he noticed that Hunter had returned from her nightly shower. He looked at her and noted her feminine pajamas. He’s only ever seen her in her work uniform (and naked from time to time for physical exams and surgeries), so seeing her in a frilly night gown was a bit of a surprise. However, we certainly wasn’t complaining. The pajamas suited her well and she looked good in them…beautiful even. He smiled at her and lowered his book.

“I, erm- I was just coming in to see if you were alright…I mean with the babies.” Hunter nervously explained, hoping her reasoning didn’t sound too personal (even though, deep down, it kinda was). She silently scolded herself for even being nervous. This man has probably seen his fair share of women with or without pajamas. She has nothing to be nervous or embarrassed about, yet here she was stuttering and fidgeting like a schoolgirl talking to her crush.

“Ah yes, we’re quite alright! You’re free to get your rest if you’d like. I can take over for the night.” Medic told her.

For some reason, Hunter was oddly disappointed by his reply. “Oh, are you sure? You’ve done a lot today. I can stay and take over if you want.”

“No, no it’s alright. I can manage. You should get your rest.” Medic reassured her.

Hunter looked at the floor in nervousness and in slight disappointment. She didn’t want to just leave the poor guy by himself with all these babies. She would’ve offered to stay with him, but she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. After all, they were only coworkers, not partners. “Ah, right. Well, erm, goodnight, Medic.” Hunter said before heading towards the door.

“What are you doing, dummkopf!? She wants to stay with you! Invite her back before she leaves! This is your last chance!” Medic scolded himself as he watched Hunter near the exit of the rec room.

“Uh, Hunter!” Medic called out, causing Hunter to pop her head out of the doorway. “If you’d like, I wouldn’t mind you staying with me for the night. If you’d like to help, I mean. I only figured you’d be more comfortable in your sleeping quarters.”

Hunter stared at the doctor for a moment as if to process what he had just said. “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Hunter asked, just to make sure he wasn’t doing this out of pity or guilt.

“No, no it’s quite alright! I insist!” Medic reassured her.

Hunter smiled and gave a quick nod. “I’ll be right back then.” And with that, Hunter was off.

Moments later, Hunter returned with a few pillows and blankets in her arms as she settled in next to Medic. She would’ve settled down on their other sofa they used to have, but thanks to Pyro, that got destroyed, so now there’s only one sofa in the rec room.

“I brought you a pillow and blanket as well. I wasn’t sure if you needed them or not, so I figured I should just bring extra just in case.” Hunter explained as she placed Medic’s pillow and blanket by him.

Medic smiled at the sweet gesture. “Danke, I appreciate that very much.”

Hunter then noticed that he was still holding baby Scout in his arms who was fast asleep and sucking his thumb. She smiled at the sleepy little infant.

Medic looked down at the little baby in his arms and smiled as well. “It seems Scout likes to be held more than the other babies. He wouldn’t settle down until I held him.” He acknowledged.

Hunter softly chuckled as she gently brushed the back of her finger against Scout’s soft little cheek. “Well, he did say he was the youngest of 8. I assume his mother held him a lot while she did the housework and whatnot.”

Medic hummed in agreement. “You may be right. He’s certainly the neediest of the bunch.” He speculated as he got up from the sofa and proceeded to put Scout into his bassinet for the night.

Medic then went back to the couch and settled in with the pillow and blanket that Hunter had given him.

“You seem to be very good with children. Did you have any siblings?” Hunter asked as she too settled onto the couch with her pillow and blanket.

“Oh, no. I was an only child. However, I did get a lot of experience working with children in the pediatric ward while working on my medical license. I enjoyed visiting the nursery the most. Holding the newborns was almost therapeutic.” Medic explained as he reminisced about his days in the pediatric ward.

Hunter smiled as Medic talked about his past. She’d honestly pay big bucks to see Medic taking care of the newborns and interacting with the little children. Of course, she’d never tell him that in fear of coming off as some kind of weirdo.

“What about yourself?” Medic asked her, breaking Hunter from her thoughts of a younger Medic holding babies like the natural father he is now.

“What?” Hunter replied as she looked at him.

“You seem to be very good with the babies. Did you have younger siblings?” Medic asked.

Hunter shook her head and smiled. “Oh no, I was the youngest of 2. Even my cousins were older than me. I was basically the baby if my family. I did become a part time nanny back in high school during the summer breaks.” Hunter explained.

“I see. Well, you certainly have a way with children. They seem to like you very much.” Medic replied with a smile before yawning.

Hunter giggled and blushed at his kind words. “Thank you! So do you. I think you’ll make a wonderful father one day.” Hunter told him before yawning just as he did. “I think we better get some sleep before one of them wakes up. Goodnight, Medic.”

Hunter then cuddled herself into her blanket and pillow and went off to sleep, however, Medic sat there for a moment, thinking as he watched Hunter drift off to sleep.

She really thought he’d make a wonderful father? Him? The mad doctor of the badlands? The man who implants mutant animal hearts into his coworkers for fun and enjoys slaughtering men on the battlefield with a bone saw?

Medic had never even considered becoming a father before now. Of course, one day he’d love to pass on his knowledge and brilliant scientific findings to a successor one day and hopefully they’d follow in his footsteps of becoming a mad scientist/doctor just as everyone else in his family was. He’d also love to watch his child learn and grow and spend time with not only himself but with his partner (or partners of that were to become the case) as well. Yes, Medic would very much like to become father one day.

Medic smiled and turned off the lamp beside him before settling down to sleep.

“Gute Nacht, Hunter.”

XXXXX

Hunter slowly opened her eyes as the morning sun came shining through the thin curtains of the rec room. She yawned and stretched as her eyes began to focus on her surroundings.

The babies were still in their bassinets, some still sleeping peacefully while others entertained themselves by playing with their mobiles or teething on their little feet.

Hunter looked over beside her and saw that Medic was no longer in the room. His clothes gone and pillow and blanket folded, sitting neatly beside her. Then, as if on cue, Medic walked in and noticed Hunter was finally awake.

“Ah! Gut morning, Hunter! I hope you slept well. However, I’m sure you did since you were mostly sleeping on me.” Medic greeted with a chuckle and a friendly smile.

“Oh! I’m sorry! I-I didn’t know! I usually do that with my pillows when I sleep! I hope I didn’t disturb you!” Hunter nervously stuttered.

“No, not at all. I didn’t mind.” Medic replied nonchalantly as he picked up baby Sniper who was starting to get fussy.

“Oh…heh…well, that’s good.” Hunter said, not knowing how to feel about his reply.

“However, the reason I was awake so early was because of the technicians. I spoke with them this morning and I believe the respawn system should be repaired by lunch time this afternoon.” Medic explained as he rocked little Sniper.

“Oh...oh! Good! That’s wonderful!” Hunter happily exclaimed, after breaking her thoughts away from Medic’s last reply about her cuddling from last night.

So, with that information set, the two mercenaries set out to continue their day as “normal” until it was time to finally test out the respawn again.

XXXXX

It wasn’t long before lunch time hit. The babies had spent most of the morning crying, pooping, and spitting up, so Medic and Hunter were sorta glad this was almost over.

Most of the babies were already fussy and hungry for lunch as Medic and Hunter brought them into the respawn area.

“Alright, let’s hope this works.” Hunter, who was wearing her full uniform with the mask and hood on, said before she and Medic left the room to see if the others would return to normal (also it wouldn’t be very good if they got turned into babies as well if the respawn happened to backfire again).

The technicians went ahead and started the respawn and after about a minute of silence, Medic and Hunter heard something.

“Ugh, my freakin’ head!”

Hunter and Medic looked at each other with happiness and excitement before rushing into the respawn area to find their teammates back to normal once more.

“It worked! You’re all adults again! Wunderbar!” Medic exclaimed and he clasped his gloved hands together.

“What do you mean ‘we’re all adults again’?” Spy asked suspiciously as he pulled out his cigarette case to grab a cigarette.

“Oh, you were all turned into babies after a malfunction with the respawn system during testing, so Hunter and I cared for you until the technicians could fix the problem.” Medic causally explained as if this sort of problem happens every day.

“Hold on a minute there, doc. You said we were all turned in to babies after the respawn testing? How the hell did that happen?” Engineer asked as he adjusted his hard hat.

“Oh, it’s quite simple, mein freund! You see-“ Medic started to explain the technicalities and whatnot of what exactly happened to the respawn system (mainly to Engineer) as the others basically tuned him out.

“So, none of you- ahem! So, none of you even remember being a baby?” Hunter asked the rest of the group, almost forgetting to disguise her voice now that everyone was back to normal. They all shook their heads.

“Nope, last I remember I was in the respawn and then the lights started flickerin’. Now we’re here.” Sniper explained with a shrug.

“Hmm, interesting.” Hunter replied.

“So, you lot had to take care of us while we were wee bairns, eh? I’m sure that went off jolly well.” Demoman said to Hunter with a smirk.

“Mmm, you all weren’t that bad. However, it is a lot easier if you have someone to help you. Taking care of all of you lot at once was pretty stressful.” Hunter explained as she crossed her arms.

“Hmm, Heavy is hungry. Will get sanvich.” Heavy grumbled as he walked away with some of the others to go get lunch.

“Wait a minute, you and Medic took care of us this whole time?” Scout asked Hunter. She nodded and smiled in response.

“Oh my god, does that mean you guys changed my diaper…and bathed me!? You guys saw me all naked and shit!? Oh god, that is so weird! It’s like you hopped into one of my baby pictures!” Scout exclaimed.

“Yes, well, I’m sure changing your diapers and bathing you was the least of their problems. It’s getting you to go to sleep that is the real challenge.” Spy explained as he took a puff from his cigarette.

“Yeah, whatever. My ma said I was the perfect baby! Better than all my brothers! In fact-“ Scout bragged before pausing from realization.

“Wait…you were a baby too. How would you know?” Scout asked him.

Spy did his best to hide his embarrassment and surprise as he looked at the expensive watch on his wrist. “Ah, I do believe it is time for our lunch. I think I’ll make myself something to eat then. Goodbye.” He stated before heading out of the respawn area.

“Hey! No! Spy! Answer the damn question!” Scout shouted as he chased after the frenchman.

“Well, I’m glad to see everything’s back to normal.” Hunter thought to herself as she watched Scout run after Spy.

[peralta-guaranteed]

Family day playing hooky hc

(this turned into another fic. Apparently I don't make the rules anymore)

Read on AO3

It's the beginning of a long summer. Both kids are home - well, not really, since Amy has signed them up for several activities all around the city. Today is arts & crafts time at the children's library wing, Jake notes as he checks their shared calendar before the morning meeting. But they are home, insofar as Mac's school is closed for the summer holidays, and so's Maya's kindergarten. They drop them off at their daily activity in the morning, and the rest of the time they're at his mom's, who's been happily overfeeding them and entertaining them as the proud grandma she is. Or they drop them off at Gramma Peralta’s first, and she drives them to whatever place they were signed up at. It's a pretty good routine, and he's proud of Amy having found so many things for them to do that seem right up their alley, judging from their excited stories during dinner and the ever growing collection of handmade gifts on their living room shelves.

But they're home for the summer, and Jake and Amy have to sit at the sweltering precinct, slogging through paperwork and a dull week of almost no new cases. It's really not fair, Jake thinks. He remembers his summer days with Gina, when Nana would hand them both a couple of dollars and tell them not to be home until sunset at least. They can’t do that, obviously - Mac and Maya are still too young, and Brooklyn has definitely not gotten any safer since his early teens, when it was already questionably sketchy for him and Gina to stalk around the neighbourhoods and buy cheap ice cream and soda at random bodegas. He also remembers those few rare days when his mom would get a day off that did not need to be spent on catching up on housework, or when his dad would finally show up for more than one day and they could plan a little trip (which would actually take place at least 50% of the time). He remembers the aquarium and the zoo and the natural history museum and Central Park and Coney Island.

And they could absolutely do that, he realises, so the decision is pretty much made before he’s even set his bag down at his desk. But he’s patient enough to wait through the morning meeting - blessedly short, because nothing new has come up anyway, and they’re all told to finish up the paperwork and start on re-organising the evidence room. Jake supposes it’s a generally good thing that crime seems to slow down in the summer heat a little, but that’s not really why he’s so happy right now hearing the captain tell them to ‘find something to do anywhere’. He certainly knows what he wants to do already.

Amy’s morning meeting must’ve been just as short, because she’s already at her desk when he jumps down the last steps of the stairwell to her floor. Her uniformed officers mostly give him a quick nod or smile as he passes - it’s not a rare thing to see Detective Peralta come by to visit his wife outside of break times.

“Good morning, Lieutenant.” He smiles at her, and she rolls her eyes with fondness. The title is still pretty new, and he loves to remind her of it any chance he gets.

“Hey babe. We’re not due for lunch for another 4 hours, you know that, right?”

“Yeah there’s no way I’m waiting that long.” He’s still smiling wide, and when she looks up from whatever paper she’s been filling out, she instantly recognises that mischievous glint in his eye.

“What are you planning?”

“Let’s bail the kids out of the library and go somewhere fun. Coney Island? It’s all open since last saturday I think.”

“We have to work, Jake.” Amy levels him with one of those ‘please be a grown-up’ looks, but she knows they seldom get results.

“Do we, Ames? Do we really? Because Holt has us organising the evidence room. I have literally zero open cases on my desk. And how far ahead are you with all your paperwork and organisation?”

She looks sheepishly at the very small stack of papers on her desk.

“About two weeks, I’d say.”

“And you’re saying we can’t take one day off? Just one day of family time? Getting cotton candy and taking Mac on an actual roller coaster now that he’s tall enough and winning a new teddy for Maya because you’re an ace at the fake shooting range?” He wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis, and Amy stifles a snicker. It’s too bad her husband knows exactly how to win her over for most of his childish endeavours.

“I guess it wouldn’t be so bad to take some personal time right now. We’d still have to convince Holt-”

“On it.” Jake slaps her desk in excitement as he gets up, ready to race upstairs and sweet-talk Holt into giving them the day off (or rather, annoy him into it). Only Amy Santiago would request permission from her boss to play hooky, of course, but there’s no way he’s not going to indulge her.

It’s not even fifteen minutes later that he’s back downstairs, his bag already on his shoulder, almost pulling her out of her chair.

“Got the go-ahead, so let’s go!”

“Give me five minutes at least to brief Gary, and change out of my uniform before I leave.”

He sighs and thrums his fingers across his thigh, but obediently watches her talk to her ‘own Amy’, eagerly taking notes about the few things they actually have to remember to do. He refrains from pushing her forwards by the shoulders as she heads to the locker room, deciding to pack up her purse instead (he knows the layout perfectly by now - the calendar and pen goes next to the baby wipes, and the glasses case has to be by the little box of healthy, kid-friendly snacks). But the moment she returns in one of her signature flowery blouses, he grabs her hand and drags her out of the precinct so fast she can barely protest.

-+-

The drive to the library is equally as quick. Amy only manages to slow him down once they step into the actual building, reminding him of the library rules of being quiet and calm.

“Lieutenant Santiago!” The librarian behind the desk greets her - she’s well-known around these parts, obviously. “Back so early? Isn’t your mother-in-law picking up the kids later?”

He should probably call her to tell her about the change of plans, Jake thinks as Amy explains and asks if it’s possible to get Mac and Maya packed up and ready to leave already.

It’s absolutely possible, of course, and Maya proudly shows them the pipe cleaner and yarn figurine she’d just finished making as the kids librarian leads them out to the main floor. Mac, a few feet behind her, seems wary as he hugs them hello.

“Did something happen?” He asks into the hug, quietly, and Jake remembers with a twinge in his heart that the last time someone picked him up unexpectedly early from football practice, it was aunt Rosa, taking him and Maya to the precinct until Amy brought Jake back from hospital after getting knifed by a perp.

“No, buddy, this is a good surprise.” He hugs him back extra tight, ruffling his hair for good measure, and silently cursing his line of work being so shit sometimes.

Mac smiles back at him, luckily, but there is still a bit of hesitation in his eyes, and Jake’s excitement about his own idea of playing hooky falters for the first time. Maybe they should’ve just let the kids enjoy their crafts and grandma-time, and planned a proper day out for the weekend-

“Grandpa Holt gave us today off.” Amy explains as she steps up to the two of them with Maya by her side, and that title still sounds a little weird even years later. “So we thought we could all go out for a fun day at Coney Island!”

The squeal Maya lets out certainly changes Mac’s smile for the better, even as it is quickly shushed down (they’re still in the library after all!), and they’re soon dragged outside to the car by their kids the same way Jake had dragged Amy out of the precinct.

“C’n we get hotdogs?” Maya asks as she clicks her seatbelt closed and Amy smiles at her through the rearview mirror.

“We sure can!”

“Can we go on all the rides?” Mac joins in, and Jake is glad to see there’s absolutely no hesitation on his face anymore.

“All the ones you’re old enough for, sure.”

The questions and cheers and excited chatter keep up during the whole drive, even as Amy calls Karen and barely gets a word in, between the happy interruptions shouted from the backseat, and it takes a lot more to actually keep them together as they step on the boardwalk, Maya already running left to some game parlour while Mac races on ahead to the first ride he sees.

-+-

The rest of the day does not slow down in their whirlwind. Mac decides after three roller coasters that maybe he’s had enough (and Jake is glad they didn’t go through the food stalls before it), but he spins Maya around in the teacups ride like only an older brother could. The ice cream after is well deserved, seeing how sweaty and exhausted they are already, and gives them more than enough energy to hit literally every game they can see. Jake can watch Amy calculating the vast amount of money they’re spending in tokens, but she’s also the first one in line once they reach the toy-shooting range, winning Maya a unicorn plushie and Mac a knock-off superb-man figurine (his wife is a goddamn sharpshooter and he’d be lying if that wasn’t a turn-on). The third shot earns him a wacky pair of sunglasses that make both Amy and Maya giggle in that way he loves the most, and he refuses to take them off for any of the silly pictures they take in front of cutouts, wall art and weird statues.

He’s pushed them up into his hair by the time they get hotdogs (3 for him, 2 for Mac, one each for Amy and Maya), because the sun is already starting to set and he can barely see. Maya begins to shiver as they stroll down the quieter parts of the boardwalk, so he buys her one of those kitschy animal-hoodies all the stalls are touting (they know their clientele too well), and of course Mac immediately needs one too, so now there’s a tiny tiger and a slightly larger dragon running in front of them with cotton candy sticking all over their hands and faces.

Amy slides her arm around his waist as they slow their steps a little to let the kids go ahead, and he lays his across her shoulder as she leans into him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had more fun playing hooky.” She mumbles, and Jake laughs for a second.

“Amy Santiago, are you telling me you’ve played hooky before? I am shocked. Here I thought I’d married an upstanding girl.”

He gets a soft punch to his side for that before she leans back and whispers.

“Actually, you’ve made me play hooky before, remember? But we didn’t exactly go to an ‘amusement park’…”

“And yet you’re saying this has been more fun. I see where I stand.” He pouts before grinning again, and leans down for a soft kiss. (He definitely remembers the last time they played hooky now.)

“Sorry, babe.” Amy smiles as she looks at Mac and Maya again, currently busy chasing each other and dueling with the sticks left over from their cotton candy. “But this has been such a great day.”

“Yeah, it’s gonna make for one hell of a memory, I hope.” He follows her eyes forward, thinking about that short moment with Mac at the library earlier today. Amy hadn’t heard it, he’s sure, but the look on her face as she pulls him to look at her with a hand on his cheek tells him she knows his thoughts well enough.

“Hey. No sad thinking allowed on such a fun day, okay? We had a great time today and we’re gonna have so many more great days in the future.” She’s still smiling, swiping her thumb across his bottom lip, where he’s sure some cotton candy is still left clinging. “We could take them to the zoo next week.”

“Santiago!” He gasps again. “Are you insinuating-”

“On the weekend.” She leans up to kiss away the last bit of sugar on his mouth. “Like the upstanding girl you married would do, obviously.”

He laughs into the kiss even as he pulls her closer, and it’s only Mac and Maya, running back to them with news of another stand they’ve discovered selling funnel cakes, that makes them break apart again.

-+-

Later, after Jake’s carried a sleepy Maya up to their apartment, and she and Mac have barely had enough energy left in them to brush their teeth and wash their faces free from all the grime and sugar that’s covering it, he falls down on the couch as Amy checks on them one more time to see both fast asleep before the lights are even out.

“Do you feel as tired as the kids?” She says in her deep, sing-song voice that sends goosebumps up his spine, just as much as her hand raking through his hair does as she stands behind the couch.

“Well, it’s been a pretty long day. But I do have more sugar in my system to keep me running, I guess.” He tries to sound nonchalant, but then she leans down to nip on his ear and ‘nonchalance’ is the last thing he’s thinking of.

“Then how about we save time between now and bed by showering together?” She whispers, and he lets his head drop back to actually look at her.

“We have never saved time in the shower together, babe.”

She only smiles at him while humming an M-hm before heading for the bathroom, and he definitely doesn’t waste any time following her.

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

Fantasies, dreams and desires, ideas of normalcy and fears of difference. A slightly queer reading of 15x14

Mrs Butters is a delightful character who is built to parallel so many things in the show. She occupies perfectly the semantic sphere that the narrative has crafted around Dean’s desires; also, you know, cake.

We could talk for days about the significance of food and drink in Supernatural. One of the biggest themes that run through the entire show is hunger (or thirst) and food is very often a symbol for an emotional need of sorts. Supernatural draws a lot folklore, and human stories have always used symbologies that put together food, desire, love, sex, family, goodness and darkness and all those human experiences.

We have discussed the shit out of every instance of food in the show, analyzed parallels to other stories and fairytales, scrutinized queer-codings and subtexts, got called nasty names by impolite people accusing us of saying that a slice of baked good means Dean likes sitting on dicks. So, yeah, I’m not gonna start explaining everything from the beginning. Let’s jump to the parallels.

- The comfort food. Motherhood, hugs, and the past that can never return: the ideal of childhood and the 50s fantasy

We’ve already talked about how Mrs Butters functions as a parallel to Mary and a symbol of the ideal motherhood that both Mary and Dean struggled with. In Dark Side Of The Moon, we see a memory from Dean’s childhood, where we learn that Mary would cut off the crusts off his sandwiches. Mrs Butters also says that she cut the crusts off, establishing a direct parallel to Dean’s ideal of childhood and child-parent relationship. Or, we should say, as both Mary’s and Dean’s ideals of a child-parent relationship, because we know that Mary set up her life with John and the kids as an elaborate “scene” according to her idea-slash-fantasy of the perfect safe life.

She strugged with that, because her ideal life could never match with reality - she had loose ends from hunting to deal with, she at some level liked having those loose ends to deal with because as much as she hated the hunting life and craved for safety and “normalcy” that was still something she was in her element doing, probably more than the perfect housewife role. Of course when she came back she attempted to recreate the scene but quickly discovered that it was impossible and dropped all attempts to do so, embracing the opposite, or at least what she perceived as the opposite (having a pretty dualistic view of hunting life-domestic life where they cannot be reconciled).

Dean, on the other hand, started out with a similar dualistic view, figuring that he’d always belong to the hunting world and could never have the domestic, “normal” thing at all, embracing his “freakness” as opposed to the concept of normalcy represented by civilians, by the middle class, by the suburbs, by the apple pie, white fence life (insert heavy queer subtext here). And yet there was always an ambiguity with him (again, he’s never one-or-the-other, he’s always both), because, while on the surface he embraces this rebellious, devil-may-care persona, that’s not quite what he is as a full individual. He grew up essentially a housewife from a very early age, has a very caregiving personality, and thrives in taking care of others.

Dean is both Mrs Butters and Mary, where the difference between him and Mary is that Mary couldn’t (didn’t have the time, support, resources?) reconcile parts of her that Dean instead was able to (and in fact recently helped her with: before dying, she’d reached a pretty healthy balance of living her own life as a hunter and having a warm relationship with her sons, at least as healthy as it can get in that kind of circumstances).

Another important parallel to Dark Side Of The Moon, borrowed by Scoobynatural, is the nightgown that feels like being wrapped in hugs: we are reminded of Dean’s “I wuv hugz” from when he was a kid, a symbol for his early life of affection and safety that he lost with his mother. Childhood hugs, comfort food, loving gestures like cutting off the crusts are all symbols of a past that cannot return.

On a level, from a “coming-of-age story” perspective, childhood, with its innocence and perception that adults will always keep us safe, is obviously something that everyone needs to accept as something that belongs to the past and cannot return, to embrace instead the responsibilities and risks of adulthood in a healthy way. In a sense, Dean needs to go through all these steps - acknowledging that his mother was a flawed person, that in fact both of his parents were flawed people who made mistakes but he can forgive them for his own sake in order to be able to let go of trauma and carry on... - to become a healthy adult able to be a good parent to his own child.

(There’s also the cholesterol thing - Mrs Butters chastizes Dean for his diet, but we know that there’s a depth to Dean’s diet, not only his extreme appreciation of food due to experiencing food scarcity and insecurity as a child, but also the memory of his mother’s comfort food, such as the “Winchester surprise”, a monstrosity of meat and cheese. While the “meat man” persona would appear on the surface as a sterotypical masculinity thing, it has layers, in a typical Dean fashion... not coincidentally, in the latest episode he calls himself the meat man while wearing an apron that we’re told he’s very fond of, painting him, again, in a mixture of different meanings, masculinity and femininity, fatherhood and motherhood, devil-may-care attitude and caregiver attitude.)

On another level, a more political level, there’s the 50s fantasy element. We all know the significance of the idealization of the post-war period as the “good ol’ times” in American culture, and it’s an ideal that Mary definitely drew from when she built her perfect life with her family. Mrs Butters represents this in a very literal way, being literally from 1958 when she “froze” herself, and acts as a very stereotyped governess for a bunch of men that feel like they are above housework, what is considered women’s work. Dean initially comments “how progressive”, knowing exactly how bullshit these conversative ideals are, but then appreciates the comforts of the perfect caretaker.

In fact, Dean’s “giving in” to the comforts of a governess makes me think of that famous feminist manifesto “I want a wife” by Judy Syfers... because housework is very much Dean’s work in the bunker. It’s interesting that Mrs Butters immediately comments negatively on the cleanness of the bunker and their clothes: we know that Dean cleans and washes, and, while it’s likely that he cannot keep everything super perfect like a governess would because he’s busy doing many other things, it’s a way Mrs Butters uses to establish roles that she knows and is comfortable with. She is used to being the one who does “feminine” work while the Men of Letters have absolutely zero skills in that regard, and doesn’t really even stop to question if that’s the case with the men in front of her.

Anyway, let’s go back to the 50s fantasy. The show has repeatedly made commentaries on the vacuity of it. Peace Of Mind is the most obvious instance, but there’s plenty of subtext in the show that deals with that typically American aspect. Just like the childhood aspect, the narrative tells us that the “good ol’ times” are also an idealized thing that cannot return (if it ever existed, because Dean’s childhood was built on a fantasy, and the “good ol’ times” are also a fantasy, because the real 50s were horrible for anyone who didn’t swim in privilege). Mrs Butters cannot stay, the 50s fantasy-slash-childhood fantasy cannot last, and Dean embraces his role as an adult-slash-modern housemaker. Blah blah gender, blah blah cake. (Yeah, sorry, but you can fill in the blanks.)

- The contaminated drink. Poison and weakness from the forbidden sexual desire to the forbidden family domesticity

Aaaand now the second branch of parallels that Mrs Butters pinged on my radar, which sends us in an even more queer-subtext-heavy territory. We’re going to talk about the smoothies and the tomato juice. Yes, I know, the smoothies are given to Jack, not Dean, but symbolically Dean and Jack share the same semantic area; both are given a magically conjured drink, and both end up locked away waiting to be killed. For this analysis, they basically overlap.

Let’s start with the tomato juice. I don’t think that it’s a coincidence that Dean is given something that visually reminds of the blood the vampires drink. The tomato juice is a stand-in for blood, and blood in relation to vampirism has a long history of subtext in the show that connects to sexuality, sex, sexual fears and contamination. While vampires are not necessarily always invested of those meanings every single time they appear in the three-hundred-whatever episodes of the show, their main symbology is connected to sex and sexual fears, as vampires do in modern western literature, after all.

You’re probably going to think, wait, what? What has Mrs Butters got to do with sexual fears? Yeah, I know, it sounds weird, but hear me out.

The tomato juice - a stand-in for blood, with a vampire reference - parallels Mrs Butters (who represents trauma, remember) to 6x05 Live Free Or TwiHard. Sexual assault, blood, contamination via the poisoning liquid.

Next to the tomato juice there’s the smoothie. It’s a poison in disguise, a contaminated drink that makes Jack weak. We have, in fact, a pattern of Dean being given contaminated drinks that place him under another’s power. Not just the vampire’s blood, but also Jeremy from 3x10 Dream A Little Dream Of Me, who offers Dean a beer through which he connects him to his dreams. There’s Nick the siren from 4x14 Sex And Violence, who contaminates Dean through the flask. The venom in the siren’s saliva parallels straight to the gorgon Noah in 14x14 Ouroboros, and I don’t have to start explaining what all those things represent, right? (I have written posts about these things, it would be nice if tumblr didn’t suck and showed them to me when I go look for them.)

(Oh, there’s also Crowley’s human blood addiction, which is not, as one might expect, a parallel to Sam’s demon blood addition, but Dean’s First Blade/Mark Of Cain issue, and the First Blade/Mark Of Cain arc is all imbued by the queer subtext of the Dean-Crowley-Castiel triangle.)

Basically, Mrs Butters is inserted in a history of queer subtext, although it appears as obvious that Mrs Butters hardly represents homosexual desire, unless we go a pretty stretchy route of her occupying Cas’ space in the Dean-Sam-Cas-Jack family (I mean, that’s true, but it’s not simply that). It is also true that Mrs Butters represents Cuthbert Sinclair, and here the radar pings, because Cuthbert Sinclair is totally inside the pattern! He wanted to make Dean part of his collection just like the vampire in 6x05 wanted to make Dean part of his pack, with supernatural means of exorting control over Dean and heavy heavy rapey tones. (I know we don’t like to talk about this, but the show does play with incest subtext, John mirrors are often rapey.)

So, we have all this semantic area of poison, weakness and submission to external control painted in overtones of sexual assault and sexual fears especially in relation to homosexual desire. (I am NOT linking homosexual desire to sexual assult, nor the show is, it’s a wide and volatile semantic area where the common denominator is fear, fear of being hurt FOR being different sexually, it’s about vulnerability because of being different. It’s a horror narrative, guys, remember, queer fear is a recurrent theme in the genre. Dracula was about the horror of what happened to Oscar Wilde, we’re running in circles.)

Now, what kind of fear is explored in 15x14? Well, the episode is about the fear of losing family. The plot is about Dean’s feelings towards Jack after he killed Mary. Dean doesn’t know it yet, but he’s going to lose Cas soon also because of Jack. Mary and Cas are both very noisy absences in the episode, and we know that Dean is going to suffer something horrific again that will shatter his family again. This goes past the fears regarding forbidden sexual desire: we’re in the territory of forbidden familial desire, so to speak, Dean’s craving for a domestic peace with his family.

Jack is both the culmination of Dean’s process of family-building, as the son figure of the family, and the element of destruction of that family-building. Not a coincidence Jack’s birthday was referenced, as Jack’s birth coincided with Cas’ death and Mary’s supposed death or at least separation. Now Jack has supposedly killed Mary (or is it a inter-universe separation again? @drsilverfish​’s theory always pops up, and we keep getting reminded of other universes - the telescope is broken...) and we know that Cas’ ultimate death hangs above us.

We’re always running in a spiral, Dean’s relationship with Mary, Dean’s relationship with Cas, Dean’s relationship with motherhood and gender roles, Dean’s relationship with sexuality. There’s a big picture of mirrors in the semantic area of fantasies, idealizations, desires and dreams. I hope I managed to make this post make sense, but I’m always open to requests of clarification or elaboration. Thanks for reading!

[third-rail-vip]

20 OTP Questions

Tagged by @tarberrymentats​ thank you so much for the tag! <3

I’m going to tag @minuteminx​ @asaara-writes​  @pchberrytea​ @mayihavethisdanse​ @potatocrab​ @laurelsofhighever​ and anyone else who wants to, tag me because I’d love to see your OTPs!!

I might have gone a bit overboard, so I’ll put most of this under the cut…

Mac x Ivy

1. Who can outdrink the other?

Oh, definitely Mac.  They learnt that the first night they met, not that she was trying to keep up it’s just Ivy is a thorough lightweight.  He didn’t like questions, she can’t help but ask them, so the deal was one shot per question.  She is smol and cannot hold her booze.  Two centuries on ice and she seems to have lost some of the tolerance she built up in college.  Magnolia had to tell Mac to make sure she got to the Rexford ok.  Of course, en route she picked up multiple jobs and talked Fred into giving them 500 caps for going to Hallucigen.  Mac was gobsmacked, it was the beginning of a beautiful if unexpected friendship.  

These days if you give her too much, you’ll find her sat on the floor in the corner of Railroad parties with Tinker Tom talking conspiracy theories.  

2. Who says “i love you” more?

Probably Mac, but not because he loves more, but because he’s definitely the more vocal of the two of them.  Words are one of his main love languages.  Plus, he’s lost a partner before (which Ivy hasn’t) and there were things unsaid in that relationship that he’ll always regret, so he knows the importance of telling the people you love how you feel, and telling them often.  Ivy is more of a show than tell, even though she’s the type to fall first, she’s been hurt before by exactly that so she’s slower to use the words and breaks them out less often.  She shows she loves him through her actions.

3. Who has trouble sleeping alone?

Very much Ivy, not that Mac doesn’t to some degree, but this is a scary new world for Ivy and she feels very much safer having someone there.  She was a wreck when he was away in the Capital Wasteland and really struggled to sleep at all.  She is more likely to not be able to get to sleep if she’s alone.  Mac is more likely to have a disturbed night, waking up feeling an absence.  

4. Who swears more?

Ivy.  She may look sweet but she really can have a foul mouth.  She will basically swear for Mac as well.  He’ll cut himself off and she’ll fill in the blank.  She resists the urge, or at least desperately tries to pick other words at the last second when the kids are about.  It doesn’t always work well.

5. Who does more of the housework?

It’s shared.  Ivy makes more mess though, she’s clean but untidy.  She seems accumulate way more stuff than Mac does, and boy does she spread it around the house.  She’s also very distractible, so he can get back and find a half-risen loaf in the kitchen, which she’ll have left, having had a thought about something she wanted to draw while it was still in her mind.  So, the sketchbooks are out in the living room, but then she’ll see a sketch of Mac and remember she was going to fix the arm on his duster again.  And so on and so forth.  Mac isn’t without guilt, there are always comics on various surfaces, left open (taking up maximum room) to show Ivy or the boys the best bits.  If Codsworth had lungs, he’d hyperventilate.  She will tidy up after herself though, when she realises she’s left everything all over.  I mean, nobody wants to hear a Mr Handy cry pre-recorded tears.

6. Who forgets their anniversary?

They don’t technically have an anniversary, actually getting together was a bit of a messy and protracted process.  The easiest date to remember is Halloween when they first met in Goodneighbour.  Maybe one day they’ll have an official anniversary for something else, but for now.

7. Who steals the duvet in their sleep?

Sometimes they can have a bit of blanket tug of war going on depending on who got into bed first.  Ivy was nesh even before the war, but two hundred years on ice has done her no favours.  She gets criminally cold hands and feet.  If they were just sharing a bed before they got together, Ivy would 100% steal that duvet, but these days she just wraps around her mercenary and they sleep like a little two person blanket burrito.  

8. Who keeps the other awake at night with their snoring?

Neither keeps the other awake.  Mac is the one who snores, but they are little damn kitten snores, like his sneezes.  If anything is going to keep Ivy awake, it’s him falling asleep first and her just silently going “awwwwww” at her adorable boyfriend.  

9. Who finds stray animals and begs the other to let them keep them?

This is totally Ivy and cats.  They have dogmeat of course, but he’s his own man and he’s always welcome with them, but he’s not really theirs.  Ivy love cats, she will sneak off to play with settlement cats when she should be doing far more minutemen type activities.  They are definitely slowly accumulating cats at their most regularly visited settlements.

10. Who usually makes dinner?

Ivy enjoys cooking most out of the two of them, and she’s rather good at it.  Getting better all the time as well since her and Codsworth are doing their best to remember and collect pre-war recipes, or at least work out how to make equivalents.  Mac is a reasonable cook, but over the years he’s generally been happy to exist on pre-war ‘just add water’ kind of food, rather than cooking from scratch, which is definitely Ivy’s jurisdiction.  But if she’s cooking, and if he can persuade Codsworth to leave them to it, he loves to cook with Ivy.  Even more so when the kids want to get involves too.  

11. Who plays their music out loud?

Oh god, they both do.  The pipboy radio is always going.  Turning it right up and singing along is almost mandatory. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you might catch Ivy playing the guitar or the piano and singing.  She’s usually shy about it, but she’s good.  She’s performed once at The Third Rail as a birthday present.

12. Who hogs the bathroom?

Given the opportunity of a hot shower in Vault 81, you will lose Ivy for so long you’d think she’d drowned.  Drenching herself in enough scolding hot water to supply a minor settlement, truly is the most self-indulgent of self-care.  Mac isn’t the biggest fan but he can be persuaded.  The only time he’ll hog the bathroom is when it’s time to keep that goatee in tiptop condition.  He’s very particular about it.  

13. Who gives the most compliments?

Like with saying ‘I love you’ most, Mac is definitely the one who lays on the compliments.  He learned early on that Ivy isn’t used to being complimented like that, or at least, it’s been a very long time since she was treated that way.  He’s almost made it a personal mission to set that right.  How easily she blushes at them is just an added bonus.  

14. Who usually starts/causes arguments between them?

They aren’t an argumentative couple, from past experience, Ivy does not cope well with that kind of confrontation within a relationship.  They are more likely to snark if something has annoyed them, but are actually really good at reading each other’s body language for when something they’ve done has upset the other.  But if it comes down to it, Mac is more likely to be the one to get into a more heated discussion about something that’s upset him.  Ivy is the one to calm a situation.  The only time they’ve had an actual stand up row was during Blind Betrayal.

15. Who isn’t afraid to embarrass the other in public?

They aren’t afraid of a bit of public bantering, and will definitely play up for an audience if they’re in the right mood.  Ivy is a little more inclined to publicly tease Mac in one way or another, but that might be more because Mac suspects she can deal it out better than she can take it, rather than her being the more equipped to do it.  Although when it comes to quietly flustering her in public, that is very much Mac’s jurisdiction.  

16. Who gives the other cringeworthy pet names?

There’s a definite teasing edge to most of the nicknames they call each other, they’re both more comfortable with being called them when there isn’t too big of an audience around.  But I guess Mac would be more embarrassed by Ivy’s habit of calling him anything beginning with ‘sweet’ – it’s not good for his tough mercenary image, you know.  Mac doesn’t care who hears him call Ivy ‘angel’, he’s being calling her it for so long (way longer than they’ve been together) but he might draw the line at shouting ‘kitten’ across Diamond City marketplace.  Most other names they call each other are more along the lines of compliments or abbreviations of their names.  

17. Who fusses over the other when they get sick?

Ivy is definitely the more diligent medic, and a very well qualified worrier.  So when Mac is hurt, she’s all over that, and he regularly jokes that she carries enough gear to set up a small field hospital with her at all times.  Not that that habit hasn’t saved their asses on multiple occasions.  Mac is more likely to get genuinely scared if Ivy is badly hurt or sick because of past experience.  When it comes to just being a little bit poorly, Mac will milk it like an absolute drama queen.  Ivy is a soft touch and will let him.  But she’s also very good at telling when he’s better and is just looking for extra attention.  She’ll make up ‘treatments’ to see if he’ll keep up the charade and how committed he is to being waited on hand and foot.

18. Who finds it impossible to stay angry at the other for long?

For a guy who can mature a grudge like a fine wine, Mac has never ever been able to stay mad at Ivy.  Not even in those early days when she was ‘useless’ and they barely knew each other.  Mac melts at those big brown eyes, even if he tries to keep the frowns on the surface, all the anger goes in an instant.  It’s rare for her to get angry at him, but if the hurt is real then she can hang onto it until he’s shown that he’s earned back her trust.  It took him a while to win her back after coming back from the Capital Wasteland having not sent word at all since he left.

19. Who clings to the other for comfort when they’re sad or scared?

Ivy would be the first to cling to Mac when she’s scared, in fact she was, after very early close call.  That experience rather reinforced Mac as a safe place for her, bearing in mind she’s known him from just a week after escaping the vault, he’s definitely been a grounding presence for her.  When something is wrong, the first place she will seek comfort is in his arms, even from long before they were together.  Mac doesn’t break down until they’ve known each other for a lot longer, but he feels safe enough by then being that vulnerable with Ivy – it’s difficult because he has always had a habit of putting himself in a protector role in so many of his relationship with people that allowing himself to be seen as scared or even sad is difficult for him.  But once those floodgates are open, nothing would stop him from seeking comfort from her, even when things are awkward between them.

20. Who is more ‘physically passionate’? (hugs, kisses, or maybe more…)

When it comes to big public displays, it would probably be Mac (not in the early days though, he was definitely more private then) but he likes it known that they’re together – especially to that one dude from diamond city security who keeps hitting on her.  Ivy is more for subtle displays in public; holding hands, cheek kisses etc.  Although there was one incident…anyway.  Privately they are equally likely to be all over each other.  

[fundielicious-simblr]

💕 Love Day Love Story Series 💕

Tanner & Tabitha

How did you guys meet?

[Tanner] “I’m the youngest of 3 and I’m the only boy, so I looked to my father and my (many) older male cousins for advice on things in life. As a guy they didn’t really speak to us much about relationships other than to teach us that we’ll eventually need to provide for a family, so I didn’t spend much time thinking about the future spouse in the way that my sisters were taught to. I finished highschool, went to college, and started medical school without people asking me about marriage much. It was when my older sister got married and my other sister started seeing a guy that my parents turned on me and made me the focus of their attention, they told me that I should start praying to be led to my wife so that I didn’t wait too long to get married. At that same time I’d make trips into Willowcreek with my cousin Alan to visit his brother Carter who lives there, and one sunday we attended church with them at Willowcreek Baptist and met the Hobson family, who are friends with some of my family members so we had some connections. I’m going to be honest here, my parents  weren’t as ‘traditional’ with some of the ways that they raised us, my sisters wear pants (my mother does whenever necessary like gardening), we were homeschooled until highschool where we went to a private Christian school, we all went to college (albeit a private Christian one) and all have degrees - which are things that my cousins did not do. All those things in mind, I guess I ended up on the less ‘fundamentalist’ end of the scale so I didn’t think that I’d end up interested in someone who grew up in the exact same way my cousins did. But as we spent more time getting to know each other in a group setting, I realised that i wanted to pursue the relationship further but as she was still a teenager things would probably be quite strict with her parents. Her parents agreed to the courtship and everything was great, her twin Tessa began courting Alan so it was great for us to double date. I proposed at a restaurant when we were out with both our parents, as she had mentioned previously that she would want them to be there when she got engaged. Alan and Tessa got engaged soon after we did, and the girls came up with the idea of a double wedding and it was decided to be the best idea so that all of our guests don’t have to travel in close succession to the same location.”

[Tabitha] “For a while growing up it was just me and my twin Tessa, our mother got pregnant with the triplets when we were 5 years old, so it was us for quite a bit. We were homeschooled by our mother, and were at church often like most other people we knew. We eventually met the many different members of the extended Collins family after we attended Family Bible Camp one year, and we stayed in touch as they travelled in and out of the area, and in some cases moved into the neighbourhood. My mother always said that our purpose was to be a wife and mother, so that was what we were ‘trained’ for as kids including praying for our future husbands. One sunday, Tanner and his cousin visited our church with Carter and Madelynn Paulson, and we all hung out as a group every time they’d visit after that. I developed a crush, but I took it to my prayer journal as a personal challenge to pray for my future husband (though I’d slip Tanners name into my prayers quite often) and when he asked my parents to court me it definitely felt like an answer to prayer! It was great getting to court at the same time as my twin, when we were young we’d play weddings together, so it was great that we actually did get married on the same day! I can’t wait to do life with my very own prince charming, I’m so happy that I saved the all the pieces of my heart just for him!”

How have you changed since marriage?

[Tanner] “It’s great having someone who’s always there to be a support, working at the hospital is stressful and full of ups and downs, so coming home to dinner on the table and a listening ear is always appreciated. Being married has made me appreciate my parents even more and I’ve been seeing their relationship through a new lens now that I’m also married. If there’s anything that I had to learn to do, it’s to share my space with someone else; My sisters travelled a lot for college and now for their work so I had the whole house to myself, having to think about another person - who I am now married to - is something that my mother calls me to remind me to do. Now that we’re expanding our family, this is a great time for us to bond as a couple before welcoming our child.”

[Tabitha] “ For me it was trying to get used to being married I guess, my parents encouraged us to avoid physical intimacy until we got married, so when we were married it felt like a crash course in how to be a wife - I do have to say that getting to kiss him any time I want is my favourite [laughs] I also definitely got better at cooking once we got married, back at home my sister was the better cook while I did the laundry. We grew up in a single wide trailer, so we split up the housework and focused on what we could do with the space we had, so I spent loads of time outside hanging laundry on the washing line. Tanner’s mum Lea was so gracious and spent her time teaching me how to make Tanner’s favourite meals whenever I’d be at their house, and for that I’m grateful, our neighbours had a kitchen fire the other day and I would not like that to be me anytime soon. Finding out that we were expecting was a surprise, right before we got married my mother talked to my sister and i individually on what would be expected of us as married women, and I knew the basics of my cycle, but I had no idea that the Lord would see it fitting to bless us with a baby this early - but then again who am I to question. Finding out that my sister was also pregnant made me so happy that we could go through this season of life together, even though we live apart now we take advantage of the free time we have to chat to each other about our babies - our due dates are even the same day! So she and I have been planning loads of things together, me and Tanner found out that we’re having a girl the other day, so I’ve been looking at loads bows, cute dresses, onesies and the like that babies need. I’m so excited to dress her up in her cute little outfits everyday, growing up Tessa and I would dress up the triplets like they were our dolls until they grew too old to do so. Looking to the future, I’m excited to do life with this guy and our baby (and future babies hopefully)”

[gilbirda]

Of bats, dreams and human connections. Chapter 1

SebastianxF!Player

Maybe, in retrospective, moving to the middle of nowhere and become a farmer wasn't Liz's smartest idea. The worst part wasn't getting up early or doing housework or meeting new people, no - the worst part was having to bathe in sun cream every morning and pray no one noticed she didn't age or got tired or hurt no matter what.

Did I mention that Liz vas a vampire? Well, she was. And even if for some she was the stupidest vampire alive, in her defense she just wanted to make new friends. Fortunately for her, the local goth boy of the town may be available.

Based on @beansthatscream ‘s answer

[Read on AO3][Read on FF.net]

Next Chapter >>

Moving to Stardew Valley wasn’t exactly at first in Liz’s plans. Who in their right mind came to a sunny village in the middle of nowhere? I mean, if I were to tell you that she inherited her grandfather's farm and she felt like not going anywhere and blah blah blah…

Well, the thing is, Liz wasn’t exactly your city-girl-goes-farming story. Because she is, in fact, a vampire.

The grandfather’s farm part is true, though.

He was human, a man her coven adopted when he was a lonely kid orphaned in a war. She remembered thinking how absurd it was that vampire like them would adopt such weak creatures, but it wasn’t like she cared much about it. With time, she stopped finding her new immortal life so fascinating and started following the strange and humble old man that chose to call her family despite knowing what he did about her world.

When he died, he left her everything he owned. Including a run down farm in the middle of nowhere, sunny-ville.

Liz breathed deeply, enjoying the cold spring night’s air, one hand scratching her new cat’s chin (maybe she was being cheesy by calling him Lestat, but sue her), looking at the few sprouts growing in the cleared patch she made early in the season.

A farmer vampire. Who would have thought.

At least she didn’t have to eat, so that’s money she saved. Everything she earned would go to the next crop.

It has been around a week since she settled there and getting used to the slow pace everything seemed to go by there was… difficult. She had wanted to leave coven drama behind and try her hand at going solo for a while. Who knows? Maybe she could start a coven of her own-

A family. What she wanted was a family. A real connection, like what she had with grandpa. After so many decades she had forgotten what it felt, how human connections struck deeper than convenient alliances of vampire covens.

That’s why she wanted this to work. She wanted to feel what grandpa felt for so long, she wanted to make memories like those he shared with her before passing.

An uncomfortable sensation in her mouth reminded her that she needed to feed soon. Her fangs were getting out of control the longer she let herself starve, and the last few days she got away with not appearing around town, but people were going to notice if she let it go too far.

She looked up at the moon and sighed. Lestat jumped out of her lap and meowed softly before going inside to sleep. She should too, but the idea of turning and tossing around, hungry, wasn’t exactly in her top list of things to do all night. This “daytime” vampire thing was hard to get used to, but it was a needed evil.

She got up and decided to go for a walk to see if she could get a bit tired and sleep another night with an empty stomach. Tomorrow she would go to the city and feed, there were many people there and no one would notice a little wound here and there. In a small place like this? Someone would definitely would.

And when they did, every hope of forming a real human connection would go out of the window.

***

Sebastian didn’t know what to think about the new farmer. Sure, he had seen her walking around all dressed in black and with an enormous black parasol, saying something about sensitive skin, and he immediately respected the aesthetic.

The woman herself? Not so much. She was a mystery, she didn’t seem like she wanted to settle there at all.

Not that I blame her, he thought as he took another drag of his cigarette. I would leave this place as soon as I could. If I could.

He looked back at his house from his position by the lake, the moon shining down on his mother’s fine work on the exterior of the building. Sometimes, when he felt weak and vulnerable, he didn’t want to leave his mother there with Demetrius. He feared what would happen in his absence, what kind of arguments he would use to drag Robin to his side. Would he make her forget about him? About his father?

Would he matter at all?

Sebastian shook his head, knowing it was silly. If he stayed or left shouldn’t depend on his mother, but his own sanity.

Finishing his cig, he threw it down and smashed it with his foot, ready to head back in and finish his last project. Another sleepless night it seems, he sighed.

He turned and was about to take a step forward when a sharp pain bloomed in his hand.

“Shit.”

He looked down at his hand, and there it was, a fresh new cut in the otherwise clean skin. Damn these trees and their unexpected sharp barks. Whatever, he could find some band-aids before going back to the computer.

He looked up and she was there. The farmer.

He frowned. He hadn’t heard her approach, and it was a rather quiet night.

“Hello?” He tentatively called. She just stood there in silence, eyes fixed on his bleeding hand. “Are you alright?”

The farmer blinked slowly as if waking from a deep sleep, looking up to his eyes. Somehow he expected hers to be a weird color, like red or purple, but they were just plain old dark brown, almost black under the moonlight.

She licked her chapped lips. “Uh, sorry, I heard someone here and thought it was… Uh… I mean, it’s pretty late.”

Sebastian watched silently as she took a step back. “You are not making any sense.”

“I don’t, right?” she chuckled. “This is awkward. Um, I’m Liz, the new farmer, but I guess you already know that.” She offered her hand to shake, but he looked down at his still very much bleeding hand. “Oh, fuck, yes, sorry. You need any help with that?”

“It’s a small cut. I’ll live.” He took a paper tissue from his hoodie pocket and cleaned some of the blood with it, revealing an already closing wound. “See? Everything’s fine.”

The face she made was as if someone had kicked a puppy, her eyes following each one of his movements.

Sebastian shuffled for a second, visibly uncomfortable with the situation. “Are you ok?” he asked again, noticing how her face had morphed into a painful grimace.

“Yeah. It’s just I… I- I just remembered that I haven’t had dinner yet. And, um, yeah. I should go. Nice meeting you!”

Liz ran away without waiting for a response, leaving a very confused man by the lake.

“But it’s like three in the morning,” Sebastian thought out loud.

***

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Liz ran and ran, hoping that leaving the lake, the town and the valley behind could erase the last fifteen minutes of her life.

She almost slipped. The one thing she swore not to, she almost did. And by stopping herself from doing so, she acted like a total freak in front of an innocent villager. Oh, damn, he was going to tell his friends and they will tell their families and then…

Well, the thing with pitchforks and torches may be outdated, but she would be ostracised. Vampires were a myth nowadays, but still, they will treat her like a freak and won’t try to be nice anymore.

Aw man, I don’t want to leave so soon!

She hoped a least a few decades before people started noticing her not aging.

“More like a few weeks, now,” she grumbled, stopping to calm her breathing. She was fast, some of the faster of her coven, but in her starving state she was weaker than a baby vampire.

Great, she was in the middle of more nowhere now. Trees, trees, and more trees. Somewhere, a car was passing through a road by the mountain; but apart from that, not a sound. And she was hungry. Very, very hungry.

Liz glanced up at the darkness trying to find a lonely creature that could satiate her at least until she could reach the city. Then, wash away the awful taste of animal blood with some random drunk human enjoying the city at night.

A tree branch creaked at her side. She looked up, finding a mountain lion crouching, watching her with distrust.

“Sorry, buddy.” She smiled at the animal and jumped.

***

Sebastian was going to kill Sam. It was official. I mean, how could he not when he was dragged from bed after barely getting a few hours of sleep, forced to look alive under the sunlight and be conscious enough to listen to his friends rambling about the incoming egg festival like it was a big deal. Who the hell cares??

“Right, Seb?” Abigail prompted, expecting his answer as if he was listening.

“Huh?”

“We were saying,” Sam tried to help, “that we could ask the mayor if we could play a few songs at the festival.”

He blinked slowly, letting it know his overall opinion of the matter. It’s just a stupid festival about eggs. He couldn't care less.

What he wanted was to get out of the sun and go back to sleep. It wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t get any sleep even after finishing his work, really; the dull pain of the small cut in his hand reminded him of the weirdest night of his life.

I wasn’t like he had any real opinion of the farmer (Liz, she said her name was Liz) before; but now he couldn’t help but keep his eyes on the road that led towards her farm from Sam’s house, as if expecting her to emerge any moment now. What would he even say to her? Last night he uttered barely a word before she bolted away. Did he expect this time to be different?

Suddenly, as if summoned, she appeared. All dressed in black and with her big parasol, looking down at her feet as she approached them. Was she ignoring him? Them?

“Oh, hey, Liz!” Sam, always bright and cheery, motioned her to join them. It wasn’t the first time he did, but it was the first time the mysterious woman obeyed.

“Hey.” Her smile was tiny, but welcoming. Even some pink gathered in her cheeks, clearly embarrassed with the situation. “What’s up.”

Sebastian wouldn’t say it out loud, but was glad of her parasol as it blocked some light for his tired eyes.

"Duuuude, you look half dead!" The blond commented, real concern in his face.

"Uh, I couldn't sleep last night," Liz smiled, shifting her parasol to cover her better. If she noticed Sebastian moving accordingly to receive some shade, she didn't say anything.

“Woah, it seems like we have a contender for the role of Pelican Town’s resident vampire, Seb!”

He rolled his eyes. “Just because I wear black hoodies and don’t like people doesn’t make me a vampire, Sam. And I already told you that last night I was finishing a commision.”

“Whatever you say, emo boy,” Abigail arched an eyebrow and turned to the newcomer. “What’s your excuse, not-vampire?” She made a gesture to her whole gothic get-up.

“Um, I’m allergic to sunlight. For real!” she laughed at the disbelieving faces. “It’s a real thing, look it up!”

“Then why become a farmer?”

This time Liz rolled her eyes. “I should have expected the question. It isn’t like Robin and Lewis asked that already.” She sighed. “It seemed like the right thing to do, you know? I was tired of being a nobody, of being lonely around so many people, and wanted a real human connection.”

“That’s deep, tho.”

“But if you are allergic to the sun, how do you do farmer stuff? At night?” the blond asked, one eye fixed on his best friend getting closer and closer to Liz, drinking up the shade from the parasol like a starving man.

“There’s this new invention called “sunblock”. Don’t know if you heard of it?” Liz smirked. “And my problem is direct sunlight. I burn if it touches me, but for the rest…” she shrugged.

Sebastian yawned, feeling his eyes close. Why was he even awake? Ah, yeah, Sam wanted to practise in case the Mayor let them play at the festival.

“If we aren’t going to get any practising today then I’m going home. I need my beauty sleep.”

“Oh, sorry. I must get going too. I had some business to attend,” Liz smiled. “Nice talking with you guys.” She walked away, waving with one hand.

Sebastian didn’t whine when the sun hit his face. Uh-huh. He didn’t miss her calming and fresh presence and very wide and very convenient parasol.

Okay, maybe a little. The hoodie was starting to feel a bit too hot for the sunny spring day.

“She’s perfect,” the blond said watching the farmer go.

“Huh?”

“For you dude! You guys make a super cute goth couple! Ask her out already!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Liz! The farmer! You were making heart eyes at her all this time! Don’t deny it, I saw everything.”

“I saw it too,” Abigail nodded, “and the goth gods are smiling at you today, dude.”

He narrowed his eyes. It was way too early for this bullshit.

“I didn’t make heart eyes. And she is weird, that’s all.”

“Yeah right,” both friends snorted. “Whatever you say.” Sam shook his head.

“Look, we can practise or I can go home. Last chance.”

“Ok! Ok! Calm down Romeo, we’ll practise. And then you can go back to your coffin and sleep some more.”

***

Had he told them something? Didn’t he? He did, he totally did. That question didn’t come from nowhere. It couldn’t.

She was prepared to tell some bullshit about an allergy to sunlight, she had looked up the name for it (something very latin-sounding and technical that for the life of her she couldn’t remember); but it wasn’t a coincidence to be asked that barely hours after slipping like that. Or was it?

Sebastian didn’t look half alive either, and his interactions were rather minimal. She heard something about him not getting any sleep. Liz assumed it had to do with how awkward she had been. Oh my.

Calm down! She told herself. Panicking wouldn’t solve anything, no.

She had to go buy new seeds, for sure. That’s why she had went through all the trouble of covering her skin with sunblock, after all.

Pierre’s was small and it barely had any variety of products, but she preferred the homey sensation and the small town friendliness over the cold treatment at Joja’s. Since learning about the store in town she avoided it like the plague.

She fetched her seeds and approached the counter, adding a last-minute sandwich to help the illusion of being a normal human being. One was never too cautious about that.

***

Sebastian was ready to drop dead in his bed and sleep until tomorrow, for real. After a heated argument with Lewis they were allowed “only a few songs, but nothing inappropriate!” for the egg festival, and then Sam insisted on sitting down and choose which songs to play and then start practising on them.

The sun was starting to set by the time he got home, his mind focused on his cold basement and his bed, heaven on Earth.

What he didn’t expect was finding her sleeping in his house. Well, she was more like dozing on the sofa at the entrance, by his mother’s desk, but here she was - looking as dead as he felt. Bags under her eyes, the purple so dark it looked like it was tattooed on her skin.

Not knowing what to do, he postponed his escape to sacred grounds and looked for his mother at the kitchen, who was calmly drinking her tea as she prepared dinner.

“Why is the farmer sleeping in our house?”

“Huh?” Robin turned slightly, a small smile in her face. “We were talking about expanding the cottage and she fell asleep waiting while I checked something. I thought she looked cute so I let her.”

Cute? More like a walking corpse.

He must said so out loud, because his mother chuckled as she kept stirring something in the pot. “She reminds me of you, actually. You both work so hard at the cost of your health.”

“Don’t know what you are talking about.” He huffed, crossing his arms. First his friends and now his mother? They barely knew her, how could they know what was she like?

“Whatever,” he could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Could you wake her up? I’m almost done here.”

“She’s staying for dinner?”

“She will, when you invite her to.”

Sebastian rose his arms to the sky, wondering why he got the short stick in life. “Sure.”

Liz was sleeping in the same position he left her in, and he wondered how to wake her. He didn’t want to be rude, for real, but he didn’t know her enough to be comfortable touching her without her knowing. He sighed, not really wanting to be caught looking at the sleeping woman and seem like a creep.

“Hey,” he shook her shoulder. She didn’t move. “Hey, you.” He shook harder. Nothing.

Why? he asked the heavens, getting closer to her, deciding how to make his next move, when the farmer inhaled deeply.

“Hmm,” he heard her murmur before her unexpectedly strong arms seized his shoulders. Her face got closer, and he could barely see her eyes still shut as her head positioned somewhere between his neck and his shoulder. “Smells nice.”

He shivered, feeling her warm breath caress his uncovered skin, wondering what the hell was going on. Then, something hot and wet touched him. A tongue. He knew what it was.

Oh hell, no!

“Hey!” he tried to get free, but her grasp was like iron. “Let me go!” he hissed.

“Yummy, yummy…”

He closed his eyes, dreading whatever was going to happen. His heart raced with adrenaline, but his body was frozen in place, knowing it was useless to try escaping her hands. Her breath hit his wet skin, and then something sharp and solid touched it -

“Sebby, what’s going on in there?” Robin’s voice cut through the haze like a knife, stopping his racing mind as well as the woman assaulting him in her sleep.

Fingers that one second ago felt like claws gripping his shoulders let him go. He heard a gasp and opened his eyes, finding her dark eyes of the farmer looking back at him. For a split second they were like -

“Sebby?”

Both turned to look at Robin, Sebastian taking a step back, his heart beating louder than Abby’s drums.

“Everything alright?” His mom asked, a small smirk in her lips indicating that she thought something of the situation way different than what really happened. “Did you ask her?”

“Ask me what?” Liz’s voice was rough, but sounded calmer than she looked.

“If you want to stay for dinner!”

The farmer stood up abruptly. “I’m afraid I can’t. I have… I have some fish at home I don’t want to go bad. You know?” She took her closed parasol and went for the door. “Thanks for letting me rest here, Robin. Have a nice evening!”

The sound of the door closing was loud on Sebastian’s ears. He blinked, looking back at his mother.

“I’m not hungry. Save my plate and I’ll eat later, please.” And he run away to his basement, more confused than ever.

***

Stupid, stupid, and a thousand times stupid!

She had slipped again! In less than a day? Definitely not paying attention to her body had most certainly cost her only chance at happiness.

How could she? That poor boy! She almost bit him in broad daylight! In his own house! Oh yeah, she was utterly fucked.

Liz wanted to cry by the time she got home.

She looked at her few belongings, wondering if she should start packing up now or wait until people accused her of whatever and asked her “nicely” to leave the town. She had just started to gain some profits and she had to let it go so soon… Who would take care of her grandpa’s lands? The people were really nice, someone would-

Lestat meowed at her feet, unleashing a whole new wave of waterworks. Who would take care of her cat? Was his even “her” cat if she only had him less than a week? She hoped that whoever adopted him kept the name. Or not.

“Ugh,” she let her body collapse at the door, pulling up her legs to rest her head on her knees. “I should have slept in today.” It was a bad idea to go out today, the seeds could have waited one day more or she could have talked with Robin another day. She knew that she only pushed herself so far because she didn’t want to go through practically bathing in sunblock again so soon.

How silly it seemed now. Her own stubbornness and overconfidence put her in this position. Crying in fetal position against her door, waiting for the pitchforks and torches, real or figurative.

A knock at her door brought her back to reality. Showtime.

She got up and cleaned her face as best as she could. One wasn’t chased out of a town looking like a mess.

Once she felt like she could face an angry mob, she opened her door and… Sebastian was there? Liz looked around waiting for the rest of the group to appear, but it was dark and silent. A normal Stardew Valley night.

“Um, hello?” the boy in front of her said. She looked back at him, frowning.

“Where’s the rest?”

“The rest of what?”

Liz blinked slowly. “The rest of the people who knows I almost attacked an innocent man? And is here to ask me to leave?” her voice went higher with each word.

Sebastian snorted. “I haven’t told anyone that you are not human, don’t worry. Can I come in now?”

“Oh, I see, that’s nice- Wait what?”

He got tired of waiting and walked around her to get inside. Once in the small cottage, he approached the tiny table and put a container on it.

“Mom made you dinner anyway. She asked me to deliver it to you. But I guess you won’t eat it because you are a vampire.”

Liz turned, her mouth wide open. “How do you know that?”

“You just confirmed it,” his smile was tired, but brilliant.

“Oh, fuck.”

Sebastian flopped down on the only chair by the table, and rested his head on his hand, watching the farmer with a knowing smile.

“So, what is a vampire doing in Stardew Valley?”

“Farmer stuff, I guess.”

“And was that old man really your grandfather?”

“Not by blood, but we were close friends.”

“I see. Do you really burn in the sun?”

“As I told your friend, I can’t be under direct sunlight. And I use sun cream.” She blinked at the quasi-normal interview. “Excuse me, when is the moment you start to freak out?”

“I already did some of that. An hour ago. When you almost bit me. Because that’s what happened, right?” he gulped. “You almost bit me.”

She took a deep breath.

“Yeah. I, uh… I couldn’t sleep last night, you know?” she looked down, a bit ashamed. “And I guess you were really close and um, human blood is really tasty, not like animal, that’s just, ugh, and then I was dreaming about something nice and-”

“Do vampires sleep?”

“This isn’t Twilight. Please. And I don’t sparkle either.” She narrowed her eyes.

They both looked at each other for a few awkward seconds before starting to laugh. It was silly, Liz thought, to be talking normally like that after having a mental breakdown because of this same boy.

Oh, well.

“So… not freaking out? We good?” maybe she showed a bit of her fangs in her smile. Maybe.

“Yeah, we good. Surprisingly enough, it helps knowing that you aren’t just some weirdo.” He blushed and looked down, his face partially blocked by his hair. “And I guess it is pretty hot.”

Of course you would, you emo fuck

***

That night, once Sebastian got home, ate dinner and collapsed on his bed, he felt like waking up from a dream.

The farmer. She was… nicer than he thought. Once they cleared the stupid but necessary questions out of the way (no coffin, no aversion to garlic, yes to needing blood, no to killing people, a “you don’t ask a lady her age” and a “rude” to asking about religion) they simply chilled at her home, talking about everything and anything. It turned out that she liked the same branch of fantasy than him, even if she sometimes succumbed to cheesy romance novels full of porn; she had played some D&D before, but had heard about Solarion Chronicles (he invited her to the next session nonetheless); and she had tried her hand at piano for a while until she got bored a few decades ago.

He inhaled, remembering her dark eyes and her shiny black hair, how the light got caught in weird angles making it look like it had silver highlights sometimes. How she smiled when he confessed about his obsession with vampirism in his teenage years, how her laugh was contagious when she told the tale of how to get an annoying neighbour to move out by making her believe her house was haunted.

Oh, my. He had caught feelings.

Sebastian put a hand over his eyes, unable to stop the thoughts coming to his brain. How soft and huggable she looked. How she could fit perfectly in his arms, if he dared. How her soft hair would feel between his fingers. How her breasts bounced when she plopped down by the bed, complaining about not having enough chairs.

Yes, he had looked. Respectfully, though.

Who was he kidding? He was totally looking at her chest.

Next Chapter >>

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[snowflake-of-destruction]

Terraqua :))))))))

1. How do much do I ship it?: Never heard of it/ Notp / Dislike / used to ship / maybe / ship it / aww / otp / IS IT CANON YET?

This rating applies to canon. Just want to clarify, since I'm going to also talk headcanons for different AUs (go to the asterisk reference sections at the bottom if you want a little explanation of AUs)  in some answers, and, in those situations, feelings are different.

2. What non sexual activities do they like to do together?

KH Post Canon: Learning how to be adults together. I know it's not the most "fun" answer, and they deserve a break, but even if things stay stable, they aren't getting one as such. Aqua is now the Master in Residence at the Land of Departure and someone all the Guardians of Light will look to as an authority (and Yensid will reinforce it!) , and Terra will get a lot of the same treatment from multiple factions.

 Not only will the GoL look at him as someone knowledgeable (Him! The screw up who not only isn't a master but has a lot less off-world experience where he was actually conscious than most of his new comrades), but, when it comes to the recompleted former Org members, while it's clear he is definitely not "The Superior" and they don't want him to be, even those that glance by Roxas/Sora/Ventus etc. as green behind the ears or "kids" despite their experience are naturally inclined to view him as an equal and/or someone to ask guidance from even if only on a subconscious level because he shares Xemnas features. 

And neither has the first clue what they are doing. Hell, they lived sheltered with Eraqus and the Land of Departure Castle probably taking care of a lot of their needs. So, yeah, Aqua and Terra learn to cook together, hone vocabulary and speaking style to sound "like a real adult" and not like teenagers who are using bigger and bigger words to sound mature, practice how to lead meetings without voice shaking and how to make people feel heard (and refrain from interrupting with "you're wrong and also stupid because of Xyz"), read up on history and powers of old keyblade masters like they are cramming for exams (because even stuff they were taught by Eraqus...it's kind of been awhile), bitch together over how to simultaneously be 28 and 18, and basically bond over "fooling" everyone into thinking they are competent. 

Then they indulge in a bunch of "childish" things they never did because they were always in a rush to grow up when they were actually younger. They slide down bannisters and have food fights and swing from the rings in the training area, feet lifted and knees near to knocking the ground.

Lost Masters AU*: Finishing growing up in the Mysterious Tower under Yensid's comparatively lax supervision, obviously effected their hobbies as much as their outlook on life. They escaped often to the book(s) where Fantasia sleeps and so they are used to music made through flora, fauna, and movements of their own body. Creating symphonies that are part sparring, part dancing, part gardening and finding out what creates the best music was a passion and it carries on beyond the Tower and beyond having (snuck) access to Yensid's books. Even in adulthood, they both have a tendency to dance when nobody's watching, and, wherever they settle there is a carefully cultivated flower bed they can be found tending to (and humming to them the whole time, teaching them the notes they should be playing but mostly refuse to)  when not on mission.

Grass is Greener**:  If you asked the couple themselves this question, (more politely phrased of course because you don't say the phrase "nonsexual things" in conversation) Aqua would beam and talk about going out on the boat...that they don't own anymore (Xem bought it off baby sister out of pity. He drew the short straw between him and Ansem), and didn't use much when they did. Terra would shrug and say he hardly remembers anymore, honesty slipping out because he forgets to be guarded until Aqua grips his arm too tight and says that he's joking on his behalf. 

With some prompting, Terra will slowly come up with the latest Netlfix series they are binging...separately. Not that he'll say they watch separately, because that's not anyone else's business, and it's not even a reflection on their relationship, just like not remembering what they do for fun isn't as bad as it sounds (Is it? Now he'll brood too much on it). With Aqua working days that start early and Terra working mostly nights, they hardly see each other. Even before that, before Terra's breakdown, which he is more apt to explain away than she is if they ever talk about it (which they try not to at all costs), he was doing his residency at the hospital and worked a lot of odd hours. Med school is actually...wow...more of a blur than Terra realized....but they had fun? Once? Together? Since the college days? Of course they did. They have many activities together. Lots of stuff. Common interests. That's what they do. Common interests.

3. Who does chores around the house?

In General/Canonverse: Split right down the middle. Some tasks they trade off on, and some become full time assignments, like, for instance, Aqua cooks and Terra does the dishes. 

Grass is Greener: Terra. Period. It's not discussed, and Aqua would adamantly refute this, but in Terra's mind he has to do everything. He did even when he was working/studying to be a doctor. Aqua knows how blessed she is to have a husband that just full stop doesn't let her lift a finger (because he loves her! And he likes doing house things), but not fully. Eraqus is old money (and so was Aqua's mom, though she barely remembers her before she took off) and Xehanort's "new money" only bolstered it, and besides just living on that kind of cushion, she was the only child with Eraqus who also had to "make up" for being a single parent for awhile, and then the youngest child and only girl when the family became blended, so she was never made to do anything in her life and kind of still believes in the cleaning fairy. She knows housework is difficult, but in the same way she knows what it's like to live paycheck to paycheck now that she and Terra don't accept any help from Eraqus and Xehanort....just live in one of their houses (to take care of it for them!) without paying a dime even towards taxes and insurance much less rent...and Aqua's car insurance is paid for six months at a time as a birthday gift in the fall and an anniversary gift in the spring...but scorn handouts otherwise. 

4. Who’s the better cook?

Canonverse/General: Aqua. 

Lost Masters: Terra. It starts off being Aqua, but, you know, you forget a lot of things once you're a Nobody. 

Grass is Greener: Terra.  Though Aqua starts to catch up once they start a couple's cooking class that Terra keeps canceling on, leaving her to take Tifa or Aerith

5. Who’s the funniest drunk?

Aqua, all universes. Terra just gets very quiet and stares at the wall to make sure it doesn't move. Aqua becomes the life of the party. Not a small task, considering their friends.

6. Do they have kids?

Canonverse/In general: Absolutely, eventually, and more than one. It would vary story to story how many, the sexes, and the ages, but they will have at least two.

Lost Masters:  I wasn't planning on it, but damn if I don't now want to rework the timeline.

Grass is Greener: "When are you guys going to have kids?" That question is the bane of their existence. "You've been together for a long time." "You'd be such great parents." There's a lot of pressure, but no baby and there's not going to be.

7. Do they have any traditions?

Canon-verse: Even though Eraqus's grave is near enough they pass by it regularly, they (and Ventus) have a yearly celebration of remembrance of his life where they gather by the gravesite and tell stories. Over time they even get comfortable enough to share negative memories. It's not disrespectful. It's remembering the whole man and learning every lesson he taught. Terra and Aqua also go all out decorating the castle for solstices, though Terra takes lead with jokes about how the one time Aqua changed the castle's decor on her own she went a little overboard. Each year picking a different world they went to separately to vacation at and re-experience together in peace.

Grass is Greener: Beach vacation every year. This is carried on from Aqua's family who used to rent a condo on the beach for the first week or so of July (or, when they got older, multiple condos, next door units so there was some pretense of supervision, Aqua, Xemnas, and Ansem sometimes getting to invite friends to come meet them/stay over for part of the time). Aqua and Terra usually do a shorter time because of schedules.  They also go all out for Halloween, turning most of the house into a haunted house for touring Halloween and the preceding or following weekend--and Aqua actually does most of the work on this, it's a grand creative project.  Ansem's for New Year's. The Dads' for Thanksgiving. Christmas tree hunting for all the households with the Dads, Ansem, and Xemnas.  Terra's family for Christmas Eve dinner and service, and then Xemnas's for Christmas because The Dads passed hosting on to him. 

8. What do they fight about?

 Canon/General: Projecting their own insecurities/sensitivities on to each other and expecting to hear things the other would never say. Take care of yourself statements twisted into assuming Aqua is worried about Terra falling prey to darkness again. Observations that everyone seems to be re-adjusting well to relatively normal/new normal life read as "Stay out of their lives and stop meddling, Aqua. You're what causes things to go wrong" 

Lost Masters: There's only the one fight planned. I don't know what smaller fights may be. Aqua handles being passed over for Master while Terra advances worse than Terra does when the opposite happens in canon. It doesn't help that Yensid takes her demands to be given another test right away badly. Terra tries to comfort her. It does not go well. 

Grass is Greener: Fight? They don't fight. They didn't fight when Terra was struggling even in his first semesters in med school (with what he wanted in life more than with the program itself, but there was a fair bit of both), confided it to Aqua, and she gently reminded him of what The Plan was--the plan that so much work and her fathers' money when someone lost some of their scholarships was put toward. They didn't fight when Aqua threw her side of The Plan out and decided it would be fun to be a teacher instead of following after Xemnas and going to law school. They didn't fight when Terra discarded more of The Plan after even more work, money, and time wasted, and started bartending of all things when even if he wasn't going to be a doctor there were so many other careers he could build. It's temporary, Aqua tells herself. He's happier, Aqua tells herself. So she's happy for him and she will not mention it and they will not fight. They don't fight over kids, or lack of kids even though that was on The Plan too that they should have one already--so they could space them out and also because Aqua had calculated the optimal age. They don't fight over money. They don't fight over hardly getting to see each other and how one or the other always seem to be late or make other plans when they do schedule off nights to be together. They just simply never argue. They are happy. Couple goals.

9. What would they do if they found their paring tag on tumblr? (If they have one)

General/Canon: They would first worry over who was watching them but then they'd get into pointing out cute art to each other and they may even write their own memoir to pass off as fanfic. It's uncomfortable how often they are the parents or aunt and uncle of the group--they aren't even completely comfortable being leaders like I said before, though they want to try their best--and even more awkward because the other Guardians of Light largely find it hilarious and tease them relentlessly. 

Lost Masters: If they find it while they are together, it's cute and a sign that everything will turn out alright. If they find it later, it's devastating for Terra, and ammunition for Dark Aqua 

Grass is Greener: Aqua doesn't really get a lot of the content but she likes how they seem to be popular, and she really likes her hair short. She should go back to wearing it short. Terra is into the fantasy anime vibes, and it's reassuring to think they may be together and in love in another universe. He thinks they are canon at least from how a lot of the tag is. It's validating.

10. Who cried at the end of Marley and me?

Neither, though they ended up talking about how Ventus definitely would have cried.

11. Who always wins at Mario kart?

Terra mostly. Aqua will have a well strategized/lucky race once in awhile though

12. One thing I like about this ship?

Even in the moments where they doubt or misunderstand each other or act stubborn, I feel like you can feel love, respect, and just the barest pining tinge even before everything goes wrong and it's cranked up. I'll break examples down when I get to games that include them on my replay I am sure. 

13. One thing I don’t like about the ship?

That they are treated as the default and even if you ship them with other people it has to be just for fun or an extra ship because at the end of the day everyone agrees with Terraqua. That's just a lowkey pet peeve though, and for “no reason” since, at the end of the day, I agree with Terraqua. 

I dislike the idea that they are "mom and dad" in a lot of people's eyes...in case I didn't give off that vibe already. Let them rest. Whether you see them are near 30 or as 18, they still deserve to just only be responsible for themselves. And, guess what, some of the kiddos have more life experience than them. 

14. The song I would say fits them?

You come into my house and keep asking me this question? Be gone with you!

15. Another headcanon about the paring? (Free space)

General: They adopt a bunch of animals. Since they are often on missions and not the most stable parents of even fur babies in the first years post KH3, this, in practice, consists of claiming animals on several worlds and visiting them every time they are there to spoil them and bring them gifts. Prince Eric's dog Max? Terra and Aqua's. Nemo and his father? Marlin resents the implication, but they are their fish. Thomas O'Malley the Alley Cat? You shouldn't be allowed to call yourself a pet owner when you also turn into a cat when you go to visit them, but, yes, he is part of the family.

Lost Masters: Instead of making large wayfinder charms, since it is just the two of them, Aqua makes smaller charms that hang from woven macrame bracelets that morph meaning as they get older. Terra continues to wear his up until "present." Aqua's comes with her even when she's a Nobody, but eventually gets confiscated by Ventus though it somehow ends up with Xigbar who doesn't hesitate to literally dangle the reminder of her human life over her. 

GiG: People tend to think Terra not Aqua is the one related to Xemnas and Ansem unless they specifically know better. Sometimes Terra goes along with this. He hasn't found a way to parlay this into some funny prank so far, but is on the look out for a way. Aqua doesn't see (or refuses to see) that Terra resembles Xem a little. Vehement denial is better for the sanity. 

*Lost Masters AU is the name for the canon divergence where Xehaqus eloped/ Xehanort chose love over power or darkness, and it changed everyone's fate--though fate still demanded both villains and heroes. Canon divergent post Xehanort's little jaunt to the future and spanning that time of Young Xehanort and Eraqus and up through the sage so far, though, you know, skipping around the years with different protags. Yeah, ambitious, but it would be so cool. I've decided I'm waiting until after I beat Melody of Memory to consider further whether I'm writing it or just posting a skeleton  in case we get some Radiant Garden/Ansem the Wise and apprentices/Kairi background I want to work in. Want to know more? Hit me up

**Grass is Greener is a modern au/soap opera-ish au created between me and Shaky. It's on both of our blogs, tagged Grass is Greener Verse.

[vancilocs]

Is new bear and karol too early? 👉🏻👈🏻😳 if ye then phaedra and arad aaand dagon and jame?

i slapped him into existence yesterday but no it isn’t lmao

also i don’t want to leave fifi and arad out so they’re included

1) who can outdrink the other?

Damir by a landslide, dude is massive and Karol gets drunk very rarely anyways

Jarvarad, thicc af. But he doesn’t drink much (Phaedra even less)

Dagon due to sheer size but he doesn’t drink much alcohol, just Mt. Dew

2) who says “I love you” more?

After both are comfortable saying it they both say it a lot but Damir more, after saying it a lot at work it kinda feels fake for Karol to say it for reals

Both say it a lot, Arad ended up saying it more since Phaedra was sadder and sadder as time went on

Neither says it lmao. They’ve said it like once to each other by accident

3) who has trouble sleeping alone?

Both really enjoy having someone with them, and after getting used to the other’s presence neither kinda feels good alone. Karol does have their cat for company

Phaedra for the next thousand or so years

Neither, they do enjoy having the other over but manage well alone

4) who swears more?

Damir is terrible

Neither much, Arad might if he hits himself in the thumb while woodworking

Neither much but Dagon will swear if his code is being a bitch

5) who does more of the housework?

They share, Karol handles the cat

Arad does more physical work like making firewood, carrying water, clearing the yard and whatnot, Phaedra manages the house more and sweeps, cooks, dusts etc.

They do their own thing at their own places.

6) who forgets their anniversary?

Neither

Neither, ever

Neither but idk if they do anything about it. Maybe go out for dinner and Dagon promises to try a new vegetable

7) who steals the duvet in their sleep?

Karol. Spoiled

Neither, they have enough blankets for both and more

Dagon steals an entire Jame in his sleep

8) who keeps the other awake at night with their snoring?

Damir and Karol smacks him with a pillow until he stops

Jarvarad sometimes. Phaedra gently adjusts his position

Neither I don’t think

9) who finds stray animals and begs the other to let them keep them?

Karol already has a cat but that won’t stop them from wanting another

The children bring home an entire hedgehog and Arad is like huh

Neither

10) who usually makes dinner?

Damir makes, Karol orders out

Phaedra and her food is to die for

Jame but Dagon will help as best he can

11) who plays their music out loud?

Both, also Karol is a pianist and Damir plays the guitar so they play together sometimes

Phaedra hums while doing housework

Neither?

12) who hogs the bathroom?

Karol because listen mr. I-have-thirteen-black-t-shirt’s, I’m not leaving this place without at least foundation on

Jarvarad takes his time braiding his hair

Both are very efficient in the bathroom, if anything then shaving takes time and Dagon happens to also have facial hair so

13) who gives the most compliments?

Both are very open with them but given that Karol gets more out of them Damir goes more over-the-top with them

Arad, more outgoing in general than Phaedra

I dunno, I guess Dagon is less reserved and gives compliments other than “food was great, thank you”

14) who usually starts/causes arguments between them?

If Damir isn’t waiting for Karol after work to see them safely home they will flip their shit, thankfully it’s happened like once and he learned what will happen if he’s not there. Damir is 100% cool with Karol’s work but any gifts will stay at the club and if they’re clearly bothered after a certain customer he wouldn’t want them to service whoever it is anymore.

They don’t really argue, if anything just things the other one didn’t do despite promising. Easily resolved though.

Their arguments are very civil, if anything Jame concerned about Dagon’s wellbeing. He’s made some progress but will not learn how to sit properly

15) who isn’t afraid to embarrass the other in public?

Karol will dive inside Damir’s leather jacket any day of the week. Mine. Also since he works as a bartender Karol will definitely go and flirt with him terribly for a time

Phaedra will go where Jarvarad is preparing to go hunt with some other villagers, hand him a homemade treat she baked and kiss him long and deep

They hardly interact in public.

16) who gives the other cringeworthy pet names?

Karol, the mushier the better

Arad sometimes, Fifi is a favorite of his

Neither, they hardly use pet names. 

17) who fusses over takes care of the other when they get sick?

Damir more, Karol doesn’t really know what to do other than bring painkillers and a glass of water and leave him be. 

Phaedra doesn’t fuss, but she’s very adamant on the man staying still, drinking his tea and not overexerting himself. She’s a healer and he puts himself 100% at her mercy

Neither fusses really, Dagon is sick more often and he just accepts it, if Jame wants to come around and bring tea he can

18) who finds it impossible to stay angry at the other for long?

Both, Damir just wants what’s best for them and Karol wants attention and not to see him sad

They resolve their conflicts so fast neither stays angry, Phaedra can hold a bad mood for longer but a nose boop will get rid of it

They’re never really angry at each other, so like no worries about that. Jame is harder to read though so Dagon will think he’s mad at him when he really isn’t

19) who clings to the other for comfort when they’re sad or scared?

Karol will panic at the slightest hint of a threat when out at night and they will dive inside Damir’s leather jacket, uses the man as a weighted blanket, if particularly threatened will call him to come all the way to the club to pick them up (and he will, after he gets out of work)

As time went on Phaedra clung to Arad just because she knew she’d lose him and didn’t know what would happen to her then

The worst thing Dagon went through was finding out his brother died when he himself was in prison and nobody told him, at that point a hug and condolences would go far

20) who is more ‘physically passionate’? (hugs, kisses, or maybe more…)

They are both absolute horndogs and can’t keep their hands off each other

Arad but only within Phaedra’s limits, hugs, little kisses and playing with hair are fine

Dagon is more used to being physical because Kris has no boundaries, so I guess him more as long as Jame shows he’s okay with it

[puffwriter1998]

The Things We Let Go CH. 2

Summary: Addison goes to stay with her friends, The Abbotts, and they make their way to the world cup to meet the Weasley gang.

Character Pairings: Fred Weasley X New Character

Word Count: 5.7K

A/N: I've been having so much fun writing this. Some dialog is borrowed from the original story.

Godric’s Hollow was a lovely little village that was made up of a humble square containing just a post office, a pub, and a church. A few muggle and magical dwellings alike surrounded the square, but there couldn’t have been too many people living there. As the Abbotts led me towards their house, we passed what appeared to be a war memorial in the center of the square. As we drew closer, it began to transform into statue of three people. A man with unkempt hair and eyeglasses, a woman with kind eyes and flowing hair, and an infant boy, perched atop the woman’s lap.

I paused to look at it, and the Abbott’s continued walking ahead. I knew this must be Harry Potter and his parents. James and Lilly potter had been killed here the night that He Who Must Not Be Named tried to kill little Harry. I’d heard the story many times before, but standing here so close to where it happened, broke my heart for the boy, who I now knew looked so much like his father, even more. 

“C’mon Addie!” Charlie called over her shoulder from a little ways ahead. I tore my gaze from the family, frozen in one last eternal moment together, and hurried to catch up; pulling my trunk behind me.

We strolled a little ways more until we reached the Abbott’s house. It wasn’t small, but it wasn’t exactly grand either. It sat beside a wide garden, and had an even bigger yard surrounded by tall hedges. A few chickens pecked at the ground beside the front walk. As we approached, the front door swung open and Hannah, Charlie’s younger sister, bounded out to meet us. 

“Mum! Dad! I’d begun to worry you’d miss supper,” she called as she came. 

Hannah was about to enter her fourth year at Hogwarts, just one year younger than Charlie and I. The three of us were sorted into Hufflepuff when we first began Hogwarts, which is how I met Charlie. There are only a handful of girls in each year per house. It was inevitable that you would become close with those in which you lived and shared your classes with. I had also found that in general, the Hufflepuffs and the Gryffindors got on pretty well. Unless we were playing each other in quidditch, we usually cheered each other on. Most of the people I considered my friends were in these two houses. The Ravenclaws and the Slytherins tended to be more of our within school rivals. This was just the way things were. 

Hannah and I exchanged hugs and words of welcome in front of the house before Mr. and Mrs. Abbott ushered us inside for dinner. I had never been in a home that operated primarily off the use of magic, and it was mystical.

As we entered I saw what looked like an entire staff of invisible people preparing our dinner. Knives lifted themselves off counters and were chopping vegetables on cutting boards. A large pot on the stove was stirring itself as various spices rose from their wooden cupboards and shook themselves into it. The dishes in the sink were washing themselves, a soapy sponge circling around a plate as if a hand that we couldn’t see was holding it there. Other dishes flew from cupboards and took their place on a long dining table in a room off of the kitchen. I ducked as a pile of napkins arose from a drawer and flew past my head.

 I grinned to myself at the wonder of it all. Imagine being able to wave your wand and all your housework would be done. One day I would be able to prepare a meal with the flick of my wrist, or clean up a mess more quickly than it was made. Until I was seventeen however, it was strictly forbidden for me to use magic outside of school. They didn’t want untrained wizards running around drawing attention to the fact that an entire magical community existed and operated alongside the non-magical one. 

“This all must be so new for you,” said Mrs. Abbott as we sat around the table. “I remember when I visited a magical family for the first time.” 

“I guess I just never thought about using magic for all of these things,” I replied. “You were able to cook an entire meal without even being home.” 

“It all does seem a bit strange doesn’t it? It’s been a long time, but this was all very strange to me once too. And it will only ever get more impressive.” She chuckled. “Watch this.” 

She raised her wand and waved it a sweeping motion. Suddenly out of the kitchen floated several large platters with the most decadent array of food I had ever seen laid out for a family meal. There was a plate stacked full of porch chops, and a basin of soup containing an assortment of vegetables and what appeared to be lamb meat. Mounds of mashed potatoes were on another dish that was now settling on the table next to a heaping pile of sprouts. A spoon dove into a bowl of peas that bumped into a plate full of treacle tarts on its way down to the flat surface. 

My mouth hung slightly open as everything in front of us became still, “Wow.”

 Mr. Abbott chuckled lightly and began scooping servings of everything onto his plate. 

“This all looks amazing Mrs. Abbott, thank you,” I said as I began to do the same. 

“You’re very welcome my dear, but please, call me Susan,” she patted my arm. 

Dinner passed quickly and fairly quietly as we all stuffed ourselves with all of the wonderful things Mrs. Abbott had prepared for us by magic. We did learn, through a rather clumsy owl that crashed through the window in the middle of supper, that Hannah’s friend Hermione Granger, was staying with the Weasley family and would be attending the World Cup with them. This left Mr. Abbott with an extra ticket to the world cup, that he tried adamantly to get Mrs. Abbott to accept, to no avail. 

“No, no,” she insisted at the end of the meal, “I think I will be much more comfortable here. I’ll be waiting for you when you get back.” 

“But Sus-“ Mr. Abbott interjected. 

“Ted,” she said softly, “please don’t insist that I go camping for however long this match might go on. Even if it is with magic. Really, I’ll have a much better time hearing about it from all of you when you get back.” 

Mr. Abbott conceded. They sent the three of us immediately up to bed, saying that we’d need to be up well before dawn tomorrow to be on our way. Charlie, Hannah, and I climbed the stairs with full stomachs and heavy eyelids. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since I’d cried with my mother at home in the parlor, but it felt like a lifetime. That’s usually what happened when I made my way back into the magical world at the end of each summer. However, for a reason I couldn’t put my finger on, it made my heart a little bit heavier this time.

~

The next day, we had been roused from our beds in the early morning, and followed Mr. Abbott sleepily into the front yard. I had dressed in a plain muggle clothes at his instructions, and I chuckled to see him in nurses scrubs when he led us out the door. I wondered if Mrs. Abbott had tried to inform him that these were definitely not everyday muggle clothes, or if she had simply laughed to herself as I had when he’d dressed that morning. 

We loaded two small tents and a few days’ worth of clothes into backpacks that now hung off of our shoulders as we took ahold of Mr. Abbott’s arms. He warned the three of us to close our eyes again, and Apparated us to the site of the cup. The second time Apparating was not much more pleasant than the first, and I wondered how this could become someone’s preferred method of transportation, especially when flying on a broom was so exhilarating. 

We appeared on the edge of what seemed to be a deserted misty field in the middle of absolutely nowhere, with two sleepy-eyed wizards standing in front of us. “Good morning!” Mr. Abbott chimed to the pair. They had both, like Mr. Abbott, tried poorly to dress like muggles. One wore a tweed suit with rubber boots that came up over his thighs. The other wore a traditional Scottish kilt and a poncho. 

“Oh hello Ted,” yawned the one in the kilt, “Well rested are you?” 

“Went to bed nice and early last night,” replied Mr. Abbott, “Wanted the girls to be wide awake for the excitement today.” 

“We’ve been here all night, about time we got some sleep, I reckon. Here, let me find your campsite,” He unrolled a long piece of parchment and consulted it. “Ah, Abbott, here we are. Just a quarter mile’s walk in that direction, it’ll be the first field you’ll see. The site manager is a muggle called Mr. Roberts.” 

“Thanks, Basil,” said Mr. Abbott and he ushered us in the direction Basil had indicated before. 

As we walked through the tall, dew filled grass, Mr. Abbott explained that the Ministry of Magic had arranged for people to arrive at staggering times throughout the week leading up to the cup so as to not draw too much attention. This was a muggle campground that would be housing the thousands of world cup attendees. 

I clutched Charlie’s arm as we made our way blindly through the mist. I was starting to wonder if we had even been going in the right direction when a quaint stone cottage beside an iron gate began to appear out of the haze. Beyond the gate, I could just begin to make out what looked like hundreds of tents going up the hillside towards the dark wood of the trees on the other side. 

Mr. Abbott led us up the path to the small cottage and waved at a man standing in the doorway. 

“Hello!” He called happily. “We’re looking for er- Mr. Roberts?” 

“That’d be me. S’pose you’ve got tents booked too?” 

“Yes sir, it should be two. Under the name Abbott, we booked them a few days ago.”

“Aye,” said the man called Mr. Roberts, consulting his own list, “Your space is going to be up by the wood there. Next to an odd looking bunch called Weasley. D’you know them? Seems like everyone here this weekend knows each other. Odd. Never had more than a handful of pre-bookings at once, now we’ve got hundreds. All dressed strangely and acting funny. Just odd,” he seemed to have remembered we were obviously a part of whatever gathering was happening here. “You’ll be here just the one night?” 

“That’s right just one,” said Mr. Abbott uneasily. 

“So you’ll be paying now, then?” asked Mr. Roberts. 

“Oh er- yes- certainly,” stuttered Mr. Abbott. 

“Oh Mr. Abbott won’t you let me?” I interjected, knowing it would seem odd to this muggle when Mr. Abbott was unfamiliar with money that is clearly from his own country. “My father gave me mug- er- money before I left home.” 

Mr. Abbott started to protest, but clearly thought better of it because he sighed and nodded. I counted out the correct bills from the envelope that I’d had in the pocket of my jeans, and handed them to Mr. Roberts. 

He then handed us a map of the campsite and watched us suspiciously as we left the cottage and made our way through the gate. Littered throughout the field were tents that for the most part gave the impression of muggles camping there. Some however were obviously magical; huge grandiose tents, some with multiple stories, and even one with live peacocks strutting about the entrance. No wonder Mr. Robert’s thought we were a strange bunch. 

As we neared the edge of the woods at the top of the hill, Mr. Abbott caught sight of Mr. Weasley and called out to him. “Arthur! Hello there mate!” 

“Ted!” laughed Arthur, “So good to see you! Are you our neighbors for the night?” 

“It seems that way! Glad it worked out too, Hannah was hoping to see Hermione and Ginny.” 

“Right! Yes, Molly had told me our girls were friends at school. The kids are all off getting firewood and water to start on breakfast.” Mr. Weasley’s eyes finally settled on me, “Forgive me, Ted, this isn’t one of yours is it?” 

“Oh no, she isn’t mine. This is Addison Morris; she’s in Charlotte’s year at Hogwarts,” said Mr. Abbott. 

“Pleased to meet you Mr. Weasley,” I said politely and reached out to shake his hand. 

“Same to you my dear! Who are your parents? Anyone I would know?” He asked. 

“Oh, no sir. My parents are muggles,” I normally wouldn’t have been so confident in telling a stranger my lineage. There are some people in the wizarding community who view blood status as the most important identifier of a person. He Who Must Not Be Named operated under a philosophy that magical blood should be left pure. Muggle-borns like me were, in his eyes, an abomination. I had spent enough time around Ginny Weasley however, to know that Mr. Weasley did not think this way. He found muggles absolutely fascinating. 

“Oh!” cried Mr. Weasley in excitement, “How lovely! I work in the misuse of muggle artifacts department at the ministry, you know. The muggle way of life is just so interesting to me. Please tell me, Addison, what exactly is the function of-“ 

“Forgive me Arthur,” Mr. Abbott interrupted, “but maybe the girls and I should work on getting settled just a bit before you jump into that.” 

“Ah. Right, yes. My apologies. I do get a bit carried away,” he turned to Hannah and Charlie, “It’s lovely to see you girls as well.” 

They both echoed “You too Mr. Weasley,” as we began to unpack our backpacks. After Mr. Abbott looked around and saw no sign of the muggle Mr. Roberts, he waved his wand over the two piles of poles and canvas and transformed them into two modest tents; earning himself a sharp look from Mr. Weasley. However, neither of them really looked big enough to comfortably hold two people, so I wondered how we would all be able to sleep. 

My worries were quickly soothed though, for as soon as I stuck my head in the flap, I knew one of these tents could have easily slept all of us and then some. The inside looked a bit like a large one room cabin. Several oversized bunk beds lined the walls, while a table and a small kitchen sat off to one side. Across the room on the other side was a doorway to what appeared to be a washroom complete with a toilet and sink. The whole place was decorated like a cozy cottage that my grandmother could have lived in. I shouldn’t have been in awe, with how much wonder the wizarding world threw at me on a regular basis, but I was. 

“We haven’t used these in ages,” said Mr. Abbott as he entered the tent behind the girls, “It’s a little dusty and dated but I suppose it’ll do.” 

“It’s wonderful,” I said in amazement. 

We unpacked our few belongings and settled in our bunks to wait on breakfast. Mr. Abbott had said he’d try to go move Mr. Weasley along a bit. I couldn’t help but wonder if Mr. Weasley had hoped to have a regular muggle camping trip, and Mr. Abbott kept cheating by using magic.

After as few minutes we were beginning to drift back to sleep on top of the covers of our temporary beds, when new voices and footsteps approached outside. 

“We’ve gotten the wood, Dad,” It was Ginny Weasley, “As long as I haven’t got any fake wands in here it should make a good fire.” 

“Dear sister,” said another voice that I knew to belong to one of the Weasley Twins, Fred or George, “why would we ever do something like that?” 

There was a chorus of laughter outside the tent, and I sat up on my bunk. Ginny was two years younger than me, only about to enter her third year at Hogwarts, but she was one of my closest friends. We’d met shortly after she began school, when a couple of older Slytherin boys had cornered me in an upstairs corridor, calling me Mudblood; a horrible word for muggle born people like me. A sentiment that echoed that of the terrible war that had ended barely 11 years prior. Ginny had been coming around the corner just as the word left the taller boy’s mouth. She’d shouted at them, and a rage, the likes of which I couldn’t imagine from an eleven year old girl, had emerged from her. After she was through giving them a piece of her mind, she’d taken me in her tiny little arms and let me cry. Then she had led me from the castle, down a narrow winding path, to the Hogwarts Game Keeper called Hagrid. Hagrid had sat and talked with us for hours and by the time we’d left, you’d have thought Ginny and I had been friends for years. 

I half-ran out of the tent and to the small circle where Mr. Abbott, Fred, George, and Ginny were sitting watching Mr. Weasley arrange the wood they’d brought into a pile to start a fire. 

“Addie!” Ginny jumped up off the large log she was sitting on and threw her arms around me.

“I’ve missed you,” I said, squeezing her hard, “How has your holiday been?” 

“Oh, you know, Mum and I stuck in a house full of men for weeks on end. Was yours alright?” said Ginny. 

“Just trapped in a house full of Muggles all summer. I’m sure you can imagine,” I said as I released her. 

“Actually, I can’t,” she laughed. “Were Charlie and Hannah in there with you? Why don’t you go get them. As soon as Ron, Harry and Hermione get back, Dad’s going to try to cook us breakfast. Not sure how that’ll go over though.” 

I stuck my head back in the tent and told the girls that Ginny was outside and Hermione would be returning soon. The two of them leapt out of bed as well and came outside to join everyone. Ginny had returned to her seat, but left space on her right for me to sit. The twins were sitting cross legged on the ground to the right of the log, and Mr. Abbott had made room for his daughters on an ornate wooden bench across from them. I suspected that he had used magic to erect this place to sit, and maybe even again to make it wide enough for three of them, something Mr. Weasley was obviously not willing to do. 

I settled in next to Ginny and watched Mr. Weasley open a book of matches that he must have acquired with a scenario like this in mind. On his first few attempts, he simply let the match fall out of his excited hands rather than strike hard enough to light them. Eventually he was able to get the match to light, but as soon as it was ablaze, Mr. Weasley would squeal with delight and proceed to drop it on the ground. 

“He’ll be at this for ages,” the twin closest to me, I wasn’t sure which it was, leaned in and whispered. 

“I could help…” I offered. 

“No, this’ll be a laugh I guarantee,” whispered the other twin, leaning around his brother. “I’m George by the way, I think I’ve seen you around Hogwarts.” 

“Don’t listen to him, I’m George,” interjected the first twin. My face burned red as I realized I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to tell them apart. I’d have to be sure I was careful not to use their names and look silly. They were both tall, with the burning red hair that was the trademark of a Weasley, and large curious brown eyes. Light freckles dotted their faces. In unbuttoned, long sleeve flannel shirts with white cotton t-shirts underneath, they were sort of handsome. I wasn’t sure how I hadn’t noticed it before. I’d seen them plenty around school, they were the two trouble makers in the year above me. Argus Filch, the school caretaker, all but had their pictures up in prison style wanted posters outside his office. 

“Knock it off you two,” said Ginny. “Don’t mind them Addie, that one’s Fred,” she indicated the one sitting closest to me, “and that one’s George,” shifting her arm to point at the one who’d said he was George the first time. 

“Well I’m Addison Morris, you can just call me Addie though,” I said to them. 

“Very pleased to make your acquaintance,” said Fred, who I’d noted was in a deep green colored flannel while George’s was blue. “D’you want a sweet?” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a fist full of brightly colored candies. 

“Fred!” Ginny reached across me and batted his hand away. “I thought Mum had you empty your pockets before we left The Burrow.” 

“That woman,” Fred grinned. 

“Yeah, she ought to know well enough by now that we’ve always got a trick or two up our sleeves,” said George with a wink. 

“Go on Morris,” Fred challenged, “try one.” 

“Take my advice,” Ginny said rolling her eyes, “Don’t eat anything if these two are offering it to you.” 

The twins laughed and Fred stowed the sweets back in his pocket. Mr. Weasley continued to try to get a fire lit for ages as we all sat and watched in amusement. Every few minutes I could feel Fred’s eyes on me but I refused to turn and meet them. I was a bit uncomfortable with male attention, after my first attempt at a dating had gone so poorly. In my third year, I’d developed a crush on Cedric Diggory. He was a handsome Hufflepuff who was now about to enter his sixth at Hogwarts. He was a very sweet boy, but quickly let me know that he thought I was a bit too young for him. At the time, I was mortified. My face turned a deep shade of scarlet every time I was in the same room a Cedric, my crush long gone by this point, but the embarrassment of the public rejection was something I couldn’t shake. 

Right before I got to the point where I was going to have to get up and find something to do to avoid his gaze, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked up carrying a kettle and a couple of saucepans full of water. 

“You’ve been ages,” called George as they approached the circle. 

“Met a few people,” said Ron, shaking out his own mop of red hair and setting the water down. “You not got that fire started yet?” 

“Dad’s having fun with the matches,” chuckled Fred, and all of our heads turned back to Mr. Weasley just in time to see him light yet another match and say “Oops!” as he dropped it in surprise. 

“Come here, Mr. Weasley,” Hermione rushed forward and began helping him properly construct and light the fire. 

Harry had finally gotten a chance to look around the small circle and noticed there were more people than when he left. He gave me a small smile and wave before turning to sit on the ground next to Hannah and Charlie. He knows Hannah a little bit better than he knows me, but I also wondered if Ginny sometimes made him a bit uncomfortable. It was no secret that Ginny had been immediately taken with Harry the first time she’d seen him, before she even attended Hogwarts. So far, it didn’t appear that Harry shared the same feelings.

Mr. Weasley and Hermione were finally able to get the fire lit, and all the proper greetings and introductions were exchanged. In the hour or so that it took the fire to get hot enough to cook over, Mr. Weasley gave all of us a rundown on the ministry officials that we saw passing through the area. I was brilliantly absorbed, having never heard so much about the workings of the magical government, so much so that I stopped noticing the glances at me that Fred stole. 

Just when Mr. Weasley and Mr. Abbott began cooking eggs and sausages over the blaze, three more people, who I assumed must be Weasleys as well, strolled out of the trees towards us. I recognized the youngest of the three, Percy, who had been Head Boy the previous year at Hogwarts. Ginny had told me in a letter over the Holidays that he’d began working at the ministry and was making everyone else miserable with his endless talk about cauldron bottom thickness or importation of faulty quills. 

The other two were older. One exceptionally tall, with his red hair swept back into a ponytail and an earring dangling from his ear. The other was shorter and stockier, much like Mr. Weasley, but his freckles covered so much of his face that he almost looked like he had a tan. I assumed this must be Bill and Charlie, Ginny’s eldest brothers who’d already left home. Seeing them all here in one place did make me feel bad for her, having six older brothers was sure to be a bit much under one roof. 

“Just Apparated, Dad,” called Percy as they grew closer. “Ah, excellent, lunch!” 

We tore into the food that Mr. Weasley had cooked surprisingly well considering he didn’t use any magic. I was scraping the last bit of egg off my plate, when Mr. Weasley stood suddenly and waved at a man walking towards us. “Aha! The man of the moment! Ludo!” 

The man called Ludo was dressed in full quidditch robes with a picture of a wasp plastered across his chest. I could imagine that once upon a time these robes had fit him well, but now they were stretched across a belly that surely hadn’t been there in his Quidditch playing days. 

“Ahoy there!” yelled Ludo excitedly. “Arthur, old man, what a day, eh? Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming… and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements…. Not much for me to do!” 

Percy lunged forward with his arm outstretched, obviously hoping to shake this man’s hand. He must’ve held an important position within the ministry. Mr. Weasley went around and introduced everyone in the circle to Ludo, ending with Mr. Abbott and me. However, I could tell Ludo had stopped listening as he did a slight double take when Mr. Weasley had rattled off Harry’s full name.

“Everyone,” Mr. Weasley ignored Ludo’s amazement at being face to face with The Boy Who Lived, “this is Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. It’s thanks to him that we’ve got such good tickets kids-“

Mr. Bagman grinned and made a waving motion at the Weasley kids and Harry as if to say it had been no big deal. 

“Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur? Ted?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and looking between the two men. He shook the pockets of his robes and I could hear the jingling of wizard money. “I’ve already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first – I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland’s front three are the strongest I’ve seen in years – and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a week-long match.” 

“Oh.. go on then,” conceded Mr. Weasley, I wondered if only to shut him up. “Let’s see… a Galleon on Ireland to win?” 

“Just a Galleon?” Mr. Bagman looked slightly disappointed but recovered quickly, “Ted, d’you want to go in with him? Make it a bit more interesting?” 

Mr. Abbott looked a bit flustered but managed to say, “No, no, I’d better not. My wife would have my neck if she knew.” 

“Very well, very well.. any other takers?” Mr. Bagman looked around to the rest of us. 

“They’re a bit young to be gambling-“ stammered Mr. Weasley. 

“We’ll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts,” blurted Fred from the ground beside me as he and George quickly counted out their money, “that Ireland wins – but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch.” 

I was shocked that the Weasley boys even had that kind of money, it wasn’t a secret that raising seven children had left the family without a lot of extra money. Ginny rolled her eyes but didn’t seem surprised. 

“Boys,” Mr. Weasley cautioned, “that’s all your savings… If your mother knew-“ 

But Mr. Bagman would hear nothing of it. The boys finished their transaction with the man and George tucked the slip of parchment he was given carefully into his pocket. For the sake of their poor Mum I hoped that Fred and George would win their bet. I didn’t want to see my team lose, but I didn’t want the boys to lose their life savings either. 

Turning back to Mr. Weasley, Mr. Bagman said cheerfully, “Couldn’t do me a brew, I suppose? I’m keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number’s making difficulties, and I can’t understand a word he’s saying. Barty’ll be able to sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages.” 

“Mr. Crouch?” said Percy, whose ears had perked up at this new name. “He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll…” 

“Anyone can speak Troll,” Fred scoffed from beside me. “All you have to do is point and grunt.” 

Before I could help myself, a loud giggle escaped my lips. I quickly clamped my hands over my mouth and felt blood rushing to my face. Percy threw a nasty look to Fred and me, but turned to stoke the fire angrily to bring the kettle to a boil. Fred grinned at me and I could have sworn I saw him wink before I turned away in embarrassment. 

A few moments later, as if he’d heard us talking about him, the man called Barty Crouch, whom Ginny had told me was Percy’s boss at the Ministry, had Apparated between the Weasley’s tents. He was an older man, who was tidy from head to toe. From the part of his hair, to his crisp suit and tie, all the way down to his polished black dress shoes. He could have passed for a muggle working at my father’s firm. Quite the opposite of Mr. Bagman. 

He began trying to gather Mr. Bagman for an urgent ministry matter, but was unable to complete his request before Percy had finished handing out cups of tea and turned to offer one to him. 

“Mr. Crouch!” squeaked Percy, bending into an awkward bow. “Would you like a cup of tea?” 

“Oh,” replied Mr. Crouch, looking slightly surprised to see him here. “Yes – thank you, Weatherby.” 

Fred and George choked on their own tea, Ginny nearly fell off her log, I spit my tea back into my cup, and Ron and Harry didn’t even attempt to hide their snickers. Percy sent another nasty glance, but this time extending it around the entire circle. A little pink in the ears, he turned and busied himself with the tea kettle. 

“I expect you’ll both be glad when this is all over?” Mr. Abbott asked, gesturing to the chaos that surrounded our small circle. Most of the wizards in attendance clearly were not as serious about blending in as Mr. Weasley and Mr. Crouch. Many of the surrounding families were struggling to keep their children in line, if not blatantly using magic themselves. 

Mr. Bagman however looked surprised. “Glad?! Don’t know when I’ve had more fun… Still, it’s not as though we haven’t got anything to look forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organize, eh?” 

Mr. Crouch cocked an eyebrow, “We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details—” 

“Oh details!” cried Mr. Bagman, waving Mr. Crouch away. “They’ve signed haven’t they? They’ve agreed, haven’t they? I bet you anything these kids’ll know soon enough anyway. I mean, it’s happening at Hogwarts—” 

I had only been half paying attention to what I assumed to be small talk about the ministry until Mr. Bagman said Hogwarts. What was happening at school? 

Mr. Crouch cut Mr. Bagman off and insisted that they must go and attend to the business that had brought the both of them to our campsite. They excused themselves, but not before Barty had the chance to call Percy “Weatherby” once more while thanking him for the tea. 

“What’s happening at Hogwarts, Mr. Weasley? Dad?” asked Hannah, as soon as the pair had left. 

“Yeah, what were they going on about?” called Ron from the ground near her. 

“You’ll find out soon enough,” smiled Mr. Weasley. 

“It’s classified information, until such time as the Ministry decides to release it,” interjected Percy smugly. “Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it.” 

“Oh shut up, Weatherby,” I muttered. Fred laughed from beside me and poked me in the ribs. “Good one, Morris,” he said softly enough that only I could hear. 

My stomach twisted into knots. Not the unpleasant kind that come the morning of a big exam or before your parents lecture you about the marks on your report card, but the kind you get before a big quidditch match or before the trip you’ve been looking forward to for half a year. The hopeless romantics of the world might have even called them butterflies. 

I tried to shake the feeling off, I was there to watch my favorite team play my favorite sport. I wasn’t here to develop another silly crush on someone older than me, something that was sure to end in my heartache. But sitting there, stealing glances at Fred from the corner of my eye and feeling him do the same, I feared it was already too late.

[caitlinsnicket]

Luke Hobbs SFW alphabet

Request:  Hello, good day, how are you?  i would like to make a request, a sfw alphabet for Luke Hobbs ??  Thank you in advance😊

A/N: IT’S BEEN ALMOST A WEEK SINCE THIS REQUEST IS BEEN MADE, AND I FINALLY FINISHED IT! I'm SO HAPPY! I hope that you guys enjoy it, feel free to like, reblog or leave a comment! Also, requests are open!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Hobbs is a very affectionate person. He loves pda, and always wants to show you off. If you guys are alone, he'll find a way to hug you or to be close to you. If you were in public, he wouldn't be ashamed to make out with you either. If you are in a relationship with him, be prepared to be pampered for a long time.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Luke would be a very loyal friend. He would cross hell and heaven to keep you safe, and he would trust you with all his heart. Lots and lots of lunches and breakfasts with him and Samantha. Also, the only person he trusts to take care of Samantha (besides his sister) is you. The friendship would probably start after a mission ends when he is angry at someone and you go talk to him. When you calm him down, he realizes it may be very good to have you around.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Let’s face the facts: Lucas Hobbs is a huge man. Even in the king-sized bed that you guys share, his body is too big for both of you, so you practically have to be on top of him. Actually, every time you guys want to cuddle or snuggle on a couch or a bed, you have to be in his arms, on top of him, your head on his chest or your face buried in his neck. He’s actually a very cuddler guy, but it’s very rare for him to be the little spoon.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He plans on it. Both of you always talk about how much you want to get a small house, maybe give Samantha siblings and even get a dog someday. And once you start to live with them, it almost works. But of course, missions come and go all the time, so he has to leave. Even though, one day (he promised you) he’ll retire for good someday.

He’s been a single father for a long time, he knows to cook, to clean, and he does it very efficiently. It feels natural to him. You two share all the housework, and sometimes when you planned on doing something, you get there and he already did it.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If he had to do it, it would probably happen to keep you safe. He would give you an honest talk, and while it would be a “fake” breakup, he would tear up. And, if he was going to end things with you definitely (for your own safety), he would probably cry after you were gone.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

It would be a long time before he proposed. Of course, he had to introduce you to his lifestyle, let Samantha warm up to you, and introduce him to his whole family. But after that (and after making sure you loved him as much as he loved you) he would propose without hesitating. He knows how dangerous his life is, and he doesn’t want to waste any time.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

For a big guy, he’s surprisingly gentle. He knows how to treat a woman, both physically and emotionally. When you need a soft hug, a feather touch or a delicate kiss, he’s the best person to ask to (I know it seems odd, but Luke is a sweetie, you can’t change my mind). And emotionally, he knows when you need him to be close and when you need him to go away. Even if he doesn’t know how to handle his emotions very well, he likes to take care of you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Luke Hobbs middle name is Hugger. He loves to give hugs, if it’s in public, he’ll wrap his arms around your waist and give you a quick peck on the lips. If you are in private, he’ll come from behind you and whisper “I love you” into your hear. He does it all the time. Literally. If you’re doing nothing, he’ll hug you. If you are doing something important, he’ll hug you. If you are breathing, he’ll hug you. His hugs feel like home. They are warm and keep you safe. There’s no other place in the world where you feel safer.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Pretty fast. He would never admit it, but he is a very easy-to-fall-in-love kind of man. Within some months of the relationship, after he introduces you to all sides of his life, he says it out of nowhere. You guys are just chilling in the backyard, cuddling in a sun chair, when he looks at you, he just blurts it out. You guys stay silent for one moment until you kiss him. It’s a very cute moment, and though he wouldn’t admit it, it’s one of the only times he feels his face getting warm.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He tends to get very jealous if you get flirted too much. He gets in overprotective mode, wraps his arms around your shoulder and makes sure the person knows you are taken. Don’t get me wrong, he trusts you, but he was taught the basic respect that you need to have towards another person, and he doesn’t like when *you* are not respected. Also, he never realizes it, his voice gets a little deeper when “he’s marking his territory”.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are always warm and filled with joy, them being delivered in a calm morning or after coming back from a mission. Even though his lips are sharp (most of the time), he always manages to be very gentle with you. He loves to kiss you in your neck. He likes to remember your smell, and sometimes (when you're getting rough) he leaves some marks. He also likes to be kissed in his neck (he’s quite sensitive), and he also likes when you leave marks on it. The feeling of belonging to someone makes him feel safe.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Luke is very good with kids, given the way Samantha turned out. He knows what to in certain situations, he likes being around children, and he would love to make his family bigger.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He tends to wake up early, and as much as he tries to not wake you up, you always end up with a grumpy morning face. You two do most of the “morning things” together: brushing your teeth together, getting breakfast together, even changing clothes. You two are the most clingy people in the world. It’s not uncommon for you guys to listen “Eww” from Samantha in the morning before she leaves for school.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He usually gets home very late, and you and Samantha are already sleeping. Again, he tries not to wake you up, but he ends up doing too much noise and it wakes you up anyways. You two just end up talking until one of you falls asleep.

Now, on the rare times when he spends the whole night home, you guys have dinner together, maybe watch a movie and then go to sleep, "sleep" meaning talking for hours or doing other activities.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It would come as pieces of a small puzzle: he would tell a detail here and there and within some time you would see the whole picture. It would probably start to happen after sometime knowing you, and knowing that he can trust you.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He cannot get angry at you or Samantha. For him, it's physically impossible to get angry at the two of you. If at any time, he yelled or seemed altered towards one of you, it was the result of someone else's actions. He has all the patience in the world for both of you.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Samantha has a huge influence on this part. Luke can't remember dates to save his life, even if he tries very hard, so she makes him remember by putting notes in the house or just saying it last minute. About the small details, he just remembers them if you mention it, even if he tries very hard to remember.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The day you met Samantha. He was very nervous (and to be honest, you were too), but when he saw you two getting along and laughing with each other, he knew you were the right person for him. The three of you having dinner, almost acting like a normal family was the best sight he's ever seen.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Think about the most protective person in the world. Wrong, because that person is Luke Hobbs. This man wants to protect you from literally everything, even the things that won't cause harm. He protects you by sending you away, leaving some friends of his to protect you or simply by taking you with him. He knows you can take care of yourself just fine, but he prefers to keep an eye on you.

Now, you protect him by protecting Samantha. He trusts you with her, and he knows that, as long as she's with you, she's safe, and if she's safe, he can concentrate on the mission and get out without serious injury.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He puts a lot of effort into this kind of things, almost more than necessary. He buys candles, gifts, flowers, anything that can make you happier, even when you already made clear that there's no need to be so nervous about everything.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He won't accept another opinion on anything he's doing. He's a stubborn man that won't do anything by the ways of others unless he's desperate.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He doesn't know how much he's good looking. That's why most of the time he doesn't even realize that someone is looking at him, and why you are so jealous all of sudden.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Y.E.S. Since you became part of the family, he needs you to be close to him, otherwise, it will feel like something, an important part of him, is missing.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Samantha is pretty much the reason why you two ended up together. She pushed Luke to go talk to you, and she keeps track of your relationship to see if everything is alright. You and she have a very close relationship and she considers you her best friend.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Someone that hides too many secrets from him. He wants to trust you completely, and if you start to keep something hidden, he'll turn into protective mode and start to get defensive towards you.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He snores. Like, loud, wake up kind of snores. It's sometimes hard to keep sleeping beside him at night, but he doesn't move too much, so that's a good thing.

[roaminginspiration]

The Empty Space Next to Me

Sorry it took onger than an hour, guys.

chap 1 (x)  / chap 2 (x) /  chap 3 (x) / chap 4 (x) / chap 6 (x) / chap 7 (x) / chap 8 (x) / chap 9 (x) / chap 10 (x)

Chapter 5

“You’re gonna work as a what?” Sam exclaims on their video call with unconcealed bafflement.

Steve rolls his eyes. “She gave me a second chance, Sam. I can’t blow it.”

“But are you sure you got this?” his friend asks, slightly worried.

He shrugs. “Sure. I mean, I did some housework in my apartment after moving to DC.”

Silence follows. “Steve, you assembled a bookcase using the instructions guide. That hardly counts as housework.”

“Well, there are still online tutorials,” Bucky chimes in behind his shoulder.

Sam turns to shoot him a dark glare.

“Thanks Buck for your input,” Wilson answers to him dryly. “It’s always useful when you remind me what the modern world I have grown up in has to offer.”

Then he turns to face the phone again.

“What about the team?” he asks.

Steve nods. “Since Thanos things have been different. I’m not really needed. You take the lead, Sam — I trust you. And if something comes up just give me a call and of course I’ll help.”

His eyes glance over to his best friend. “You guys got this,” he says assertively. “Let’s say I’m on an indefinite break.”

Sam frowns while Bucky nods calmly.

“Is that what we should tell the others?” Sam asks.

“For now.”

Going downstairs, Steve finds Eliza reading through papers at the dining room table. She smiles and takes her glasses off as he sits down.

“I am no longer used to dealing with all that paperwork — Katherine just handles it for me.”

“Nothing bad, I hope?” he asks.

Eliza shakes her head and smiles. “Just the usual billing and other mundane admin papers.”

She puts them away and looks at him closely.

“I didn’t think you would take my advice of fixing things with Katherine so literally,” she comments with a little smirk.

He snorts. “Well, I’m a very literal person.”

She probes him quietly. “No, you’re not,” she says. “So about the job…”

“He shakes his head “I’m not asking for any money. Your hospitality is more than enough.”

Eliza leans back on her chair. “Looks like you’ve thought it all through. But it wouldn’t honest of me to have you do all this housework without paying you.”

“I assure you, that it’s perfectly fine by me. I’m not here for the money.”

“Oh, that I am aware,” Eliza comments knowingly.

“If I may ask,” he begins. “Why are you helping me?”

The woman eyes him attentively. “I want what’s best for Katherine and I feel you sticking around is what she needs. Besides, it’s a pretty quiet place — nothing exciting ever happens around here. I could use some entertainment.”

Katherine appears at the door, outside on the porch. Jake has just driven her home, he kisses her on the cheek — Steve stiffens slightly— and waves at Eliza who nods back.

“Yeah. I definitely look forward to seeing how this all plays out,” the woman whispers.

A cheeky smile comes to her lips then she puts her glasses back on.

_____________________________

The first housework turns out to be more arduous than he had predicted. Handling tools does not come as naturally as yielding the shield or Mjolnir did.

He works all day, has dinner with Katherine and Eliza in the evening, then when he goes to bed, he watches video tutorials and diligently takes notes.

Eliza did not lie: the house was in desperate need of maintenance. Most of the flooring needs fixing and the dull paint and wallpapers need a glow-up, and that is without mentioning the plumbing or the outside. As different a life as it is to avenging, he quickly grows to appreciate this new routine. The physical exhaustion at the end of the day is different but he likes the tranquility of this new lifestyle.

Days go by and things have already begun to feel different. He asked Sam to have his car collected and brought back to the compound. As for clothing, he stopped by a store while running errands for equipment. The style has changed quite noticeably: he has traded the shiny shoes for leather boots and most of his urban outfits have been replaced with more practical ones; mostly T-shirts and jeans.

On a sunny afternoon, he is working on the roof, replacing some loose tiles. Katherine suddenly appears on the yard, Riley following close behind with her wailing tail. Katherine looks up and smiles.

“Everything all right, up there?” she asks.

He takes his eyes off of the tiles and breathes out. “Yeah, all good.”

She is smiling. “So…,” she begins. “If you fall off you can just fly, right?”

He snorts while running a hand over his sweaty hairline. “I don’t do that.”

She pouts. “I know. That’s my point.” She then puts a hand up to her forehead to shield herself from the sun and smiles at him.

She is teasing him and he likes it. It almost feels like old times.

“Well if you need a break, there’s iced tea ready.”

And she disappears under the roof.

He holds the hammer and to hit the nail into the nail. He sinks the nail, and half of the hammer, too.

He sighs. It will take practice and time before he comes to grips with all this.

____________________________

Katherine brings Eliza her daily pills with a glass water, then after an hour of tidying up goes to do some painting. Steve is in there too, covering the walls with a light shade of mauve.

Standing on a stepladder, he stops when he sees her walk in. He begins to come down to leave the room and give her her privacy but she tells him he can stay. He picks up his brush again and resumes painting the wall.

She is mixing colors on her palette but he doesn’t notice the few peeks she casts in his direction. She doesn’t notice how his body has slightly stiffened as he tries to remain focused on his work.

She eventually turns her attention back on what she is doing and dips her small brush into the paint.

“So what do you draw?” she eventually asks from where she is sitting in the middle of the room.

It takes him by surprise. He finally allows his body to pivot so he can look at her. She is sitting on her stool in the middle room, wearing high-waisted loose blue jeans cuffed up above her ankles with a slightly cropped cotton striped top revealing the rim of her pants and a bit of her skin. Her hair is down her shoulders with a natural wavy aspect.

“It depends,” he says, resuming his work. “It can be pretty much anything.”

“Sounds nice,” she says musingly but genuine interest. “Maybe someday you could show me your sketches.”

He pauses and glances at her. “I haven’t drawn in a while.”

Her green eyes gaze at him over the canvas. “Why not?”

He tries to recall the last time he wandered into a sketch. It was on one of the early days during their fugitive period. They had been sitting in a car on an isolated road for hours while waiting for Sam to come back with food and other supplies. Natasha was in the driver’s seat, alert and surveying their surroundings she always did. He was in the seat next to her, doodling on the back of a paper, head down.

“Do you think I should dye my hair?” she asked out of the blue.

“Why? Your hair’s perfect,” he commented matter-of-factly, absorbed in his task.

“I know. But red is kinda eye-catchy. Besides, you’re not the only one allowed to have an in-the-run makeover with that stubble of yours.”

“…Which I intend to let grow into a full beard by the way,” he finishes coolly, eyes fixed on the paper.

“Yeah well, my point is…if I blended in more easily, I could go and run the errands myself. I’d know what to get us. And I’d be faster, too.”

She glanced at the dial clock on her dashboard and sighed. She leaned her head back on the headrest and gazed at him.

“Clearly you’re handling boredom better than I am.”

“You should try sketching,” he said.

“Uh-uh,” she shook her head. ���I can’t afford to let my mind wander into drawings. It would mean I would have to let my guard down.”

He looked up at her. “Yeah, I know the feeling,” he said.

“Except your guard’s down now.”

He closed his hand around the pencil and gazed at her.

“Only because I know you’re watching my six.”

She looked numbly at him for a short moment and he smiled at her. He folded the paper and put it in the glove compartment along with the pen.

“When you’re ready to swap the roles around I’ll be there to share some drawing tips.”

Natasha snorted then both resumed surveilling the area.

The old memory floods back accompanied with a feeling of wistfulness it didn’t have then. But although he can only sadly realize Natasha never allowed herself to let her guard down (because she never had the luxury to), he notes Katherine has reached that place where she never has to have her guard up.

“Circumstances didn’t allow it…until I completely fell out of the habit.”

Katherine looks at him musingly. She seems to understand what he kept implicit.

“Louisiana might work its magic on you eventually. Just wait and see,” she says.

All he hears is how she is open to him ticking around for a while. He smiles to himself as he dips the brush into the pot; she mirrors him then both resume their painting.

A couple of hours later filled with many long conversations, the familiar voice of Jake rings out in the other room.

She turns to look at Steve with a nervous wince.

“Does he know?” Steve asks.

“I’d rather stay anonymous as long as possible,” she answers.

He understands she hasn’t told Jake who he is and why he is here.

“Ok,” he whispers. Just then Jake walks into the room.

He walks up to her, wraps his arms around her from behind and plants a kiss into her neck.

“You’ve got paint,” he comments.

“Where?”

Jake dips a finger into some liquid and pokes the tip of her nose with it. They both laugh.

Jake eventually looks up and notices Steve standing on the stepladder across the room. He frowns in surprise.

“Wow,” he comments with a frown. “I didn’t think you’d still be around…”

She gets up and wipes her nose with a piece of cloth.

“Steve is our new handyman,” she says.

Jake eyes him quietly for a couple of seconds then finally musters a response. “Awesome,” he exclaims with a smile and it fades away soon after. “Careful the amount of work doesn’t discourage you.”

Steve climbs down the stepladder.

“I’m not the quitter type,” he answers, watching him with a great deal of self-assurance.

Jake rubs the back of his neck, then forces a laugh. Steve’s look doesn’t waver.

“Kate, do you mind if I join you for dinner?” he asks. He reaches over to hold her hand.

“Tonight?” Katherine arches an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I haven’t seen you all week.”

She pauses, slightly surprised by this unexpected self-invitation.

“I’m sure Eliza won’t mind.”

“Great. See you tonight, then.” He murmurs then pecks her lips.

He waves at Steve. “Good luck.”

Dinner is almost ready. All three of them are gathered in the living room, and Eliza has been noticeably zealous since she found out Jake would be joining.

The engine of his car eventually thrums in the yard and he comes inside.

Eliza sits at the head of the table, Jake next to Katherine. Steve unhurriedly joins to sit across from them. Soon, dinner begins.

“You look kinda familiar. What did you do before coming here?” Jake asks.

Katherine glances over at him with a slightly concerned expression.

“I ran a company,” he answers casually. If leading the Avengers can be seen as such. “Lots of traveling.” Including on space ships and through time.

Jake nods, keeping a poker face to conceal he is impressed. “And you just stopped?”

“Things were rough for a few years but now that it’s come back to normal I thought it was the right time to have some indefinite vacation.”

“Must be a real change, though. I heard it’s very difficult to hang it up and pass the mantle. It’s the kind of life you have in your blood.”

“Yeah, the pace sure is different around here,” he says, and his eyes shift to look at Katherine who is staring back at him. “But I’m liking it.”

His eyes then flicker back to the man sitting next to her, with his arm draped over her backrest.

“And you, what do you do?” he asks.

“I work in a farm 15 miles South. I’m hoping to buy my own house soon. Maybe have a few horses,” he adds, squeezing her shoulders and she laughs.

Steve looks at them quizzically.

“Kate here loves horseback riding,” Jake clarifies. “And she’s great at it. But what isn’t she good at, right?”

“It’s just a hobby I took up,” she explains dismissively with a sheepish grin.

“She goes to the Dawson’s who own a stable from time and time.”

Steve had no idea she liked or did horseback riding. At least, he knows for a fact Natasha didn’t. It is one of Katherine’s new interests.

As different from the woman she once was, he enjoys discovering these new little things about her.

At the end of dinner, Katherine gets up to pick up the dishes. Steve stands up to help but Jake has already beaten him to it. He takes them all to the kitchen and spends the next 15 minutes with her in the kitchen to assist her with the washing and wipe the wet plates she hands over to him. Steve watches them from the dining room, given no choice but to acknowledge the obvious affinity between them.

One yet so different from the one he had with Natasha. While the latter was more implicit, synchronous and unostentatious, theirs was more conspicuous and boisterous.

Two different types of energy, but both as genuine and earnest.

Steve gets up and takes Riley out for a walk. The dog was the first to warm up to him. She sometimes waits outside his bedroom door for a morning jog in the woods.

After a sullen stroll along the lake, he comes back to the house. Jake and Katherine are saying good night at the door, then he steps out on the porch.

Riley runs up to him, walks around him to quickly collect a stroke then runs back to Steve and stands by his side. Jake comes down the stairs toward him.

He shakes his hand.

“Well, it was nice to have a proper chat. I guess I’ll see you around a lot, huh?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Steve replies, shaking back.

Jake smirks. “Great. Me neither.”

And he gets in his car.

The next day a couple checks in for the weekend, people in their late forties on a short getaway from Mississippi. Steve deems it best not to make himself visible to minimize the chances of getting recognized. So far, he has been lucky not to pique the locals’ curiosity, the main reason being the guesthouse is quite isolated and the majority of the people living in the area are more or less old and prefer radio as a medium than the internet or television.

So he spends most of the day working outside. The porch has all his attention at the moment. He has already replaced half of the railings and has moved on to smooth the surface with sandpaper.

It is such a hot day he had to take off his shirt and work in a grey tank top. His arms and chest are glistening with sweat.

Eliza is sitting in the shadow, chatting away.

“I’ve never been to New York. Robert was always scared of flying,” she says with a chuckle. She readjusts the blanket under her. “We should replace this agonizing bench with a swing with a proper, thick mattress.”

He nods. “I’ll look for one next time I go to town.”

Katherine comes through the door, carrying a tray with refreshments. She slowly puts it down the round table, pours Eliza a glass and brings over to the elderly lady. She is staring at Steve the whole time. He turns and smiles at her before getting back to work again. Suddenly hit by a wave of heat, Katherine pours herself a glass and absent-mindedly gulps down a sip from it while taking on sight in front of her.

“Katherine, you might want to pick up your jaw from the floor,” she hears Eliza say.

The words irk her and she stiffens and flips her neck to look at her. The elderly woman is smirking cockily, eyes fixed on Steve working.

Katherine arches an eyebrow. “After you, Eliza.”

And she goes back inside the house.

After the guests’ departure, Eliza calls it a day off and asks to go on a picnic. Katherine prepares sandwiches and wraps the fresh muffins while he packs up all the blankets.

They spend the afternoon at the lake. Riley spends half the time trying to catch frogs; she spends the other half asking for more food. Eventually, she lies down to nap next to Eliza whose back is leaning on the old oak tree.

Katherine and Steve walk down the wooden pier nearby. She sits down, takes her shoes, rolls up her skirt above the knees and gently dips her feet into the cool water. He does the same after pulling his jeans to half his calves.

They both watch the circles their feet make spread indefinitely over the water. She slowly raises her foot out of the water and looks at the drops of water roll down to her toes and eventually fall into the water.

“Thank you,” she says while staring into space. She then turns to look at him. “For not saying anything to Jake.”

He nods with a slightly clenched jaw. “Sure.”

She smiles and resumes looking at the scenery.

“So Jake…he makes you happy?”

She bites her bottom lip, pensive.

“I think so. He’s the first person I met after Eliza. He’s the person who knows me the best.”

He feels his chest tighten as he takes that punch. He smiles sadly to himself; it seems he will always be too late.

“I’m happy for you, Katherine. I really am.”

She doesn't need to know about the part where he is unhappy, because it is secondary.

A bird chirps in the tree behind them.

[dk-thrive]

What if honoring the gift of our only life in this gorgeous world means taking time every week to slow down?

My great-grandmother was a lifelong Baptist who spent the last four decades of her life worshiping with the Methodists because by then there was only church left in that tiny farming community in Lower Alabama…She was so quiet in her convictions that I was 10 or 12 before I noticed that she went straight back to her room after church every Sunday. On other days, she was always busy — shelling peas or snapping beans, crocheting or quilting or sewing — but on Sunday her hands fell still, and her sewing machine sat silent. The foot-pedal Singer she’d ordered from a catalog sometime during the early 20th century was still in daily use until a few weeks before her death in 1982, but she never sewed on Sunday.

When I went looking for her help with a tatting project one Sunday afternoon, I found out why. Tatting is a kind of lace made of tiny knots tied in very fine string. The trick is to tie the right kind of knot without tangling the string into the wrong kind, but I had made so many of the wrong knots that I couldn’t even figure out how to unpick the tangle and start again. I found her sitting in a chair under the window, her Bible in her lap. The book was very old, with edges so worn they curved inward toward the pages, as soft as a puppy. I knocked on the open door. “Mother Ollie, can you help me with this?”

All these years later, I think about the heartache it must have cost my great-grandmother, the one whose bedroom I shared whenever the house was full, to disappoint a child she loved so much. But that day she could not help me with my needlework. “Not today, honey,” she said. “The Lord tells us not to work on the Sabbath.” And handwork, by definition, is work.

I’ve thought of that conversation many times over the years. Sunday has never been a day of rest for me. I’ve always used at least part of the day to catch up with work, with email, with the myriad responsibilities that fall to people in the sandwich generation. I don’t know anyone who takes Sunday off anymore. If we aren’t doing professional work, we’re doing the housework that won’t get done once we leave for work on Monday morning.

But it’s not as though the world stopped on Sunday in Lower Alabama, either. The crops — and the weeds — in my grandfather’s fields continued to grow, whatever the day. My grandmother still had papers to grade and lessons to plan. The peas in the bushel basket on the back porch would not shell and can themselves. Nevertheless, my people put their work aside on Sunday to nap on the daybed or sit on the porch and rock. They didn’t ask themselves, as I do, whether they could “afford” to rest. God obliged them to rest, and so they did.

There are many, many people for whom this kind of Sabbath is not an option. People who work double shifts — or double jobs — just to make ends meet, truly can’t afford to rest, but I could reorganize my life if I tried. I could focus on priorities, spend less time on things that matter little to me and make more time for those that matter most. Somehow I had simply reached the age of 57 without feeling any obligation to sit still.

That changed the day after my book tour ended last week. Possibly I am just too old to learn the art of solo travel: of lying in a different bed night after night and actually sleeping, of finding my way through new cities and new airport terminals. I love meeting book people with all my heart, but by the end of book tour all my body was in revolt.

I sat on the sofa with my laptop, planning to get started on the 90 million emails that had piled up in my absence, but instead I fell asleep. I tried the wing chair next to the sofa with no better results. When I found myself looking at the one clear spot on my desk as a good place to lay my head, I gave up and went back to bed, rousing myself barely in time for supper. Then I slept 11 hours more.

Nothing in the third commandment identifies which day of the week should be the Sabbath. It doesn’t even mention the need to attend church. Its chief requirement is to rest. “Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy,” reads Mother Ollie’s Bible. “Six days shalt thou labor, and do all thy work: But the seventh day is the sabbath of the Lord thy God: in it thou shalt not do any work.”

Reading those verses again made me wonder: What if resting, all by itself, is the real act of holiness? What if honoring the gift of our only life in this gorgeous world means taking time every week to slow down? To sleep? To breathe? The world has never needed us more than it needs us now, but we can’t be of much use to it if we remain in a perpetual state of exhaustion and despair.

The next day, I didn’t even try to work. I took a walk around Nashville’s Radnor Lake, the best possible way to celebrate a day of rest. The temperatures here have finally dropped, the rains have finally come, and Middle Tennessee is now serving up one fine October day after another.

At Radnor, the beauty-berries were gleaming in all their purple ripeness, and the asters and the snakeroots were still in bloom. Behind its mother, a fawn was foraging, its springtime spots just beginning to fade. A great blue heron was standing on a downed tree at the edge of the water, preening each damp, curling feather and sorting it into place. A fallen log just off the trail boasted a glorious crop of chicken-of-the-woods, and the seedpods of the redbud trees were ripe and ready to burst. At the lake’s edge, the sound of a lone cricket rose up from the skein of vegetation next to one of the overlooks. Its song was as beautiful and as heart-lifting as any hymn.

~ Margaret Renkl, from “What if resting, all by itself, is the real act of holiness?” (NY Times, October 21, 2019)