#aside from all the actual children that they're stuck sitting with of course

[autisticrosewilson]

Every year Kate holds her own Kane Family Events™️ on the same nights as Bruce has his, a cousin rivalry that's been going on as long as either of them can remember.

Dick occasionally joined the Kane's to spite Bruce the first few years, but eventually settled into his Richy Wayne persona.

Jason attended the first few Wayne galas, and immediately decided he wasn't fond of all the formality. He made a deal with Dick, he'll go to the Kane events and bring back leftovers if Dick does the same at Wayne events.

He ends up having a lot of fun! He's pretty much immediately hoisted over to the kid table, which would be more offensive if 18 year old Bette Kane weren't also there. Eventually someone else joins their little gossip duo, a blonde boy named Joey whose around Dick's age. Apparently his mom is Kate's aunt or something and she runs the New York branch of Kane Corp. He's pretty cool, Jason was a little surprised he couldn't talk but he knows ASL so it wasn't an issue and they have a lot in common!

Flash forward a few months later. There's a new Titan team, and Jason gets to visit them today. He's heard of them all at least, Wally, Kori, and Donna are regular fixtures at the manor, and he's met Roy a few times too. He's NOT expecting to see Cousin Joey lounging on the couch.

"-and this is Jericho, or Joey." Dick introduces, oblivious to Jason's inner turmoil.

"Nice to meet you." He says on autopilot. He opens his mouth to- to? He's not actually sure what he could say but he doesn't get the opportunity either way.

Joey waves back, curt and polite as would be expected of two perfect strangers. There's a secretive little smile quirking his lips, the one he gets after he drops a particularly juicy piece of gossip.

Jason's lips thin, keeping the questions trapped behind his teeth. He nods subtly, and the introductions move on.

It's only at the next gathering, with Bette off at the buffet, the two of them sequestered in the corner, that he makes a realization. "Oh my God auntie Addie is a meta!" He gasps, interrupting the conversation. He'd barely thought it through. He saw Adeline deeply engaged with the annual drinking contest out of the corner of his eye and it fell from his mouth before he could stop it. If Joey is a meta that was born with his powers, he had to get them from somewhere. He's not exactly surprised that Addie is a metahuman, he just hadn't realized.

Joey gives him a weird look, part amused and confused before he seems to follow Jason's train of thought. He shakes his head with a grin, signing father. Like that gives him any context.

Joey doesn't talk about his dad. Whoever he is has never shown up to one of these events as far as Jason could tell. His only clue is the last name Wilson, not one that Joey uses himself, but the one entered in the system at the tower.

He turns that information around in his head, utilizing all of those detective skills to piece the clues together before Joey interrupts him with a gentle nudge.

He's picking me up tonight if you want to meet him, Joey offers, a spark of mischief in his eyes that makes Jason suspicious.

Jason chokes on his own spit as he watches Deathstroke emerge from a Benz, dressed down in jeans and a T-shirt. The man gives Jason a look over, recognizes him, and then ignores him completely. Ushering Joey into the car talking about tickets to some events or other that may or may not be a mission.

[aquadestinyswriting]

15 Questions OC Edition- Yoruk

Right, so since I've received at least one more tag for this game, I'll be doing this for the other two options that were voted for in the poll I did for this game. Today will be Yoruk, next week his mother.

Once more: Tags are only for those interested in the answers to the questions here. I am not tagging for anyone necessarily to do this game (unless of course, they want to).

Tags: @druidx, @asher-orion-writes, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @mariahwritesstuff, @ashirisu, @thesorcerersapprentice, @blind-the-winds

All that said: Let's get into this for one of my favourite OCs.

A quiet corner in the back room of the Hammer and Anvil, Fangthane. Yoruk Bloodvein sits back in his seat, sipping from a small glass containing firewater, while a shadowy figure opposite him nurses a mug of Snorri Ironforge's finest ale.

Interviewer: Thank you for agreeing to see me, especially on such short notice.

Yoruk: It's fine, I'd heard ye were goin' around asking folk a bunch o' questions from Merri. She said ye might ask aboot me.

Interviewer: Ah yes, how is the rest of the family?

Yoruk: They're a'right, but I dinna have all day to chat, so if we ca get this done?

Interviewer: Of course.

1. Are you named after anyone?

I think I was name for one of my great grandpas on my da's side. The Copperheart Clan has a fine and storied history, and the man I'm named after was a hero of great renown at a time when evil was far more prominent in the world. I hope I've lived up to that legacy, despite only playin' a bit part during the whole Ragnarok fiasco.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Oh, that'd be right after Gavid wis born. I ken Merri did all the hard work, but the minute I got that bairn into ma arms, I started bawlin'. Honestly, it's a good thing Elowyn was there to see to my wife because I wis in a right state for at least a good half hour. I'm no' ashamed to admit to that neither.

3. Do you have kids?

As mentioned; I have Gavid. Merri and I do plan on more children eventually, but we're happy with just the three of us for now. He's no' long started moving around, so he's a bit of a handful.

4. Do you use sarcasm?

All the time, I'm fairly certain Merri telt ye it was basically a third language around here. I do try not to use it too often because it gets a bit tiresome to work out when folk are being genuine.

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

The body language for sure. I had to get used to quickly working out when a certain birth giver was in a mood and to not bother her with "inane, childish chit chat", and that's carried over to pretty much everybody else. It's pretty helpful in my job, though, it makes working out when someone's bein' a bit shifty without having to rely on magical methods.

6. What's your eye color?

Amber, which is typical for dwarves born into noble families.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Oh Merri told me about those. Happy endings fer definite. We just got incredibly lucky to get our own happy ending and I don't much like the idea of gettin' stressed out for entertainment.

8. Any special talents?

I'm actually a right dab hand at embroidery of all things. One of my tutors from when I was a wee lad was a much aulder woman who liked to embroider her clothes and I begged her to teach me because I thought it made her clothes look beautiful. I taught Merri because she needed something to do while stuck at home during her maternity leave.

9. Where were you born?

Right here in Fangthane, in my father's house.

10. What are your hobbies?

Aside from embroidery, I enjoy a good game of cards or dominoes. We've got a rather serious dominoes tournament going on in the rec room of my chapter house right now. I've made it to the quarter finals of it so far and am hopin' that I can at least make the final.

11. Have you any pets?

Dwarves aren't big on pets, honestly. I used to like petting the miners' ponies when I was a wee lad, but those are working animals. I don't think Alistair, my mount, counts either since he's technically a divine beast who's agreed to carry me around when I need him to.

12. What sports do you play/have played?

I'm not big into sports as such. Most of my time as a lad was spent with tutors to make sure I had a decent upbringing worthy of a man of nobility. I did get into dwarven fencing for a little bit, but felt the rules were a bit too restrictive and gave it up pretty quickly.

13. How tall are you?

Four foot eleven, so one of the tallest dwarves in Fangthane. I think there's only two, maybe three others who are even the same height.

14. Favorite subject in school?

Ididn't attend a school, as such, as I mentioned before, I had personal tutors. I did enjoy learnings some of the finer arts though, having a creative outlet made life a lot more bearable while I was growin' up.

15. Dream job?

I'm pretty damn happy in the one I've got, honestly. It keeps me close enough to my family, and I'm constantly helpin' folk with various wee problems, and it doesn't hurt that the hours are consistent so I can look after my wee boy. I'm determined to be a much more present father than mine was.

Interviewer: Thank you very much for your time, Sir Bloodvein. Your answers were most enlightening, especially when taking the ones your wife gave into consideration

Yoruk: Eh, we had different upbringings despite us both livin' in Fangthane our whole lives. That was bound to happen.

Interviewer: Indeed. I had best be off, I have one more stop on this round and I have quite the journey ahead of me.

Yoruk: A'right, bye then.

The Interviewer backs into the shadows and vanishes with barely a wisp of smoke. Yoruk politely declines to point out that he can see in the dark. and downs the rest of his drink before getting up and leaving.

[karasunology]

⸙ ˚₊ ➷ BOKUTO KOUTARO BEING A DAD HEADCANONS! ❞

✎ . . . will you please write about oikawa, bokuto, and sugawara as dads?? :>

❝ ― submitted by @ nonnie <3 ❞

-ˏˋ ➶ character(s) ━ bokuto koutaro <3

[ trigger warnings ━ slight manga spoilers !! ]

✎ . . . DAD HEADCANONS.

[ SUGAWARA KOUSHI & OIKAWA VERSION. ] [ MIYA ATUSMU VERSION. ] [ KUROO TETSURO & KOZUKE KENMA VERSION. ] [ IWAIZUMI HAJIME VERSION. ]

-ˏˋ playing soleil's tape ˊˎ-

[ 📼 ] . . . no thoughts, head and heart full of bokuto koutaro

BOKUTO KOUTARO.

➜ bokuto wanted to have a baby with you

➜ that's it that's the tweet thank you for reading😌💅

➜ i'm kidding don't leave, i have abandonment issues

➜ just like oikawa, kou ─ your husband, has gotten baby fever and it wasn't going down any minute until bb boy gets his way

➜ phew, i'd let him get his way with me✋😳

➜ bokuto was great with kids, always playing around with them in a park as if he was one of them, and both of you knew that

➜ and when bokuto sees that you're also good with kids, mans knew he wanted to build a family with you

➜ he wanted not just one, because seeing what both of you created taking in different forms and pieces of their parents would leave him so proud

➜ would very much take it as a sign from the universe saying to him that the both of you were meant to be patents

➜ the day he lets you awknowledge his little daydream, was when the both of you were sitting down on the coach re-watching his match last week after babysitting one of your guys' friend's kid

➜ mans couldn't TAKE IT ANYMORE

➜ the way you coo at the child, you cooked with the child and just the way you tenderly supported the kid with your arms as you helped him reach a toy from the shelf

➜ and of course, you accepted it; there wasn't any other man other than kou that you wanted to start a family with

➜ let's just say mans wanted to make one right then and there after you confessed to him that you wanted to start a family with him as well

➜ and y'all did just that💀

➜ after receiving the news of your pregnancy, bokuto has never been more happy, aside from those times he won a match on nationals and, well ─ marrying you

➜ but in the white noise of excitement and joyfulness, there was a lingering thought and it was terrifying; what if he doesn't make enough time for both you and his child because of volleyball? will he have to take a break from it? would your child love him?

➜ bokuto was now down to emo mode just with the thought of your guys' children hating him

➜ and when the thoughts became to unbearable, he contacts akaashi.

“ bokuto-san, ” koutaro could tell akaashi was thinking about it before saying something,

“ you're one of the best men i know that's good with children; don't waste your time sulking about nonsensical what if's, when the present is right there in front of you ”

➜ akaashi was, to say the least, your one of your children's godfather.

➜ but the day your babies was going to arrive, it was as if your husband had a switch and unlike the usual ─ he was the one supporting you

➜ he held your hand, squeezing them to let you be aware that he's right there by your side, knowing that you needed all the support right now and he gave it to you

➜ tenfolds the support you gave him

➜ and when be first saw the first triplet being born, he knew right there that he fell in love once again, but with the child he has co-produced with the love of his life !!

➜ i just wanted to say that y'all's kids are NIGHT OWLS, literally, gets the biggest bursts of energy at ungodly hours

➜ koutaro would still get anxious and terrified, but there was something about your triplets that puts him at ease ─ like, one thing he'd be doubting himself and then the next thing, he'd be all fuzzy inside when his three triplets just looked like a litter of puppies asking for his attention on his lap

➜ and he'd just, revert back to reality seeing how blessed he was and stopped doubting himself and just live in the present

➜ EYE ─ I'M SO SOFT I CAN'T😭✋

“ now say dada ” he encouraged the little sunshines on his lamp as a youthful giggle serenated from his son's lips

“ dawa ─ ” the baby tried to copy his words, before shreiking of laughter when kosuke saw the defeated look on his father's face, somehow bringing him joy

➜ while his baby girl, kouzumi, was peacefully attached to him as the most interesting in her golden eyes were his hair ─ attempting to reach her arms to his hair, making grabby arms

➜ after a few months, you've noticed how much your triplets were in sync with their father ─ all together, being balls of sunshine

“ you've been trying for hours kou, take a break. ” you laugh, as you looked up from the book you were holding seeing your husband housing an offended look, and of course ─ a weird sound, a scoff? you didn't know, until, your other son imitated him

➜ almost perfecting the one he made

➜ and bokuto was ECSTATIC

“ hONEY, HONEY, OH MY GOD DID YOU HEAR THAT? ” he squealed, as his son imitated his sound again

“ he's responding to me !! ”

“ dO IT AGAIN KOSUKE ” he says as he takes out his phone

➜ the type of father to do the peek-a-boo game with his triplets and doing it perfectly as they're just enamured by his father as if he was doing some avada kedevra shit 😭🗿

➜ hey queen!! 🙆👑 GIRL, YOU HAVE DONE IT AGAIN, CONSTANTLY RAISING📈📉 THE BAR🔝 FOR US AND DOING IT F L A W L E S S  L Y

➜ the type of father that would never miss any important moments with his children, even though he's a busy with volleyball especially since it's his profession

➜ the type of father that has too many videos of his children on his phone saying papa in different ways, trying to imitate him, first steps, first laugh & JUST EVERYTHING

➜ has a whole usb of his children, three folders for each of them

➜ has a whole ass frame of his daughter's drawing from five years old of him and her and he would NOT let anyone touch it other than him and maybe you when you when you need to dust off the frames because it's getting too dusty

➜ you guys would always be there to support him no matter what, either in the stands of at home

➜ but when you guys do visit his games and cheer him on, MANS WILL BE UNSTOPPABLE

“ mommy !! look, daddy's coming ” kaoru, the youngest of your triplets, tugged softly on your coat

➜ you smiled as you saw your husband running up to you and your kids after his matches as a few reporters, in respect, stood a few meters away from you guys, taking kosuke on his right arm, the other with kaoru and on top of his shoulders was kouzumi tugging on her father's spiked hair she could never seem to get over with

“ ahH ─ my hair baby girl, you're kinda hurting daddy ” koutaru laughed as your daughter tried processing his words before wrapping her arms around his head softly to not fall off a small gasp escaping her lips

“ i'm sowry for hurting you daddy! ” she exclaimed as her brothers tried telling her off while the reporters just watched in awe at her

“ don't hurt daddy just because he lets you on top of there ─ ” kosuke scolded her, slightly jealous that she had the highest view

“ ─ yeah! ” your youngest vigorously nodded his head as he agreed to his brother, both obviously pouting that she had the chance to be ontop of their father's shoulders

“ uh kou, i can take them now since there's a few people wanting to interview you. ” you offered as you jerked your head onto the reporters directions smiling at them

“ oh no ma'am !! it's alright, we also kinda wanted to interview your children as well, since a lot of netizens are curious about them, seeing them everywhere on his socials. ”

➜ you guys agreed as they start asking you guys questions, but more to the triplets as they responded cutely, their identical amber eyes looking at them like an owl in curiousity

➜ JUST IMAGINE THREE ADORABLE OWL LOOKING KIDS HANGING ON TO THEIR MOTHER OWL AND BOKUTO JUST LOOKS LIKES A MONKEY BAR LMAO

➜ like these kids just attached to him lmao

➜ but there are times where he has to go on tournaments, training camps, olympics & probably photoshoots/commercials ngl and these three owls he left in your care are in EMO MODE LMAOO😭✋

➜ they got it from their dad, and you were now stuck with three emo bokutos but times three

➜ wow multiplication

➜ when she's a mathematician😍

➜ but bokuto would honestly also miss his children clinging to him for dear life

➜ like they would never be separated without having facetime calls every five hours

➜ but your kids understood that he has other things to do and theg try not to complain that much for your sake

➜ your kids are actually sweethearts okay 🥺

➜ when they grew up, his sons were still attached to him but they weren't as clingey as when they were in their childhood days ─ but your daughter phew, your daughter used to be the clingiest of them all and now it's just none, nonexistent, vanished, obliviated, avada kedevra LMAO

➜ like you know how teenagers be

➜ and your husband was DEPRESSED ABOUT IT

➜ his bb girl won't touch his hair anymore :(

➜ his bb girl won't be a little girl no more :(

➜ especially when kouzumi starts having boyfriends😭 MANS WAS SAD THAT THERE ARE ALREADY BOYS OTHER HIM IN HER LIFE

➜ it felt as if it wasn't even yesterday that kouzumi said that she don't need no prince, she'll be both a fucking princess and knight in shinning armor

➜ ugh periodt💅

➜ and koutaro's nows just like

“ WHERE DID ALL THAT TALK GO ?? ”💀💀💀

➜ ALSO BOKUTO GIVES THE BEST ADIVCES NO CAP

➜ gives volleyball advices, relationship advices better than u could ever

➜ this is getting too long but, even if some of his kids may not show it anymore, they still love their father so much and won't let anyone replace him because he's basically the ace of their hearts.

[ethereal-not-occult]

patience and the mulberry

"With time and patience, the mulberry leaf becomes a silk gown."

Fandom: Good Omens Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale (Good Omens) Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Fluff and Angst, Character(s) of Color, Sericulture, silkworms, past religious trauma, but nothing bad happens in this fic I promise, mixed bookverse w/ TV elements, references to Chinese culture Notes: Originally written for the @goodomensfashionzine​ !

“I'll only be a minute, dear.” Aziraphale kissed Crowley's cheek as he opened the door of the Bentley. “You don't have to see me to the door if you don't want to.”

Crowley tightened his grip on the wheel. “Sure, angel. Sounds good to me.” The sibilants slid far too quickly past his clenched jaw, and he bit his tongue to stop the instinctive hiss from escaping.

Aziraphale gave him a sympathetic look, but shut the Bentley's door behind him and soon disappeared through the doors of the church. Once he was out of sight, Crowley slumped forward slightly, sliding his sunglasses up and rubbing at his eyes. A few deep breaths later, and he felt composed enough to exit the Bentley himself in blatant disregard for the “NO PARKING” sign on the curb.¹

[¹ Given his new job position (or lack thereof), lawbreaking was no longer a necessity, but old habits die hard.]

The bright afternoon sun made him wince a bit, and two robins in a nearby bush were getting frisky in a way he would never be able to unhear, but they made it easier to forget the distant wail of air sirens. Even standing out on the road, Crowley's skin prickled faintly with the remembered sting of consecrated ground.

He pushed the feeling aside and walked resolutely forward. Aziraphale was bound to take his sweet time as he mooned over the church's dusty old tomes, but Crowley had his own investigations to conduct while he waited. No rest for the wicked and all that.

The concrete pavement under his snakeskin shoes gave way to grass, and the tingling sensation in his soles faded. Soon he found himself at his intended destination—an Edenic grove of mulberry trees, clustered together in a ring in the church's backyard. He'd spotted them on the drive over and couldn't resist the temptation of a closer look.

Crowley wandered into the garden with a scrutinizing eye. They were young, for trees, but growing well despite their callowness. A particularly stocky sapling hardly flinched when Crowley gave it a token glare, much to his disappointment. Then again, outdoor plants were rarely as well-behaved as properly cowed houseplants. It seemed this attitude persisted even in ecclesiastic gardens such as these.

He cast a surreptitious glance over his shoulder, then reached a hand up into the tree's umbrella-like branches and tugged. The season wasn't quite right for fruits, but he still withdrew clutching a handful of dark ripe mulberries. Hardly apples, but his lips twitched upwards nonetheless. He plucked a berry from the pile and raised it to his lips.

“Zaoshang hao!”

Only a hasty miracle saved Crowley from choking as he jumped and swiveled around. Hovering right outside the churchyard was a middle-aged human, well-dressed and smiling pleasantly at him. Judging by her formal clothing and the Bible she carried, she was a part of the congregation, maybe even the priest herself. Crowley swallowed and stepped backwards.

“Ni shi jiaohui de xinshou ma?” the human called again, picking her way across the dewy grass in his direction. Crowley eyed the Bible she held, willing himself not to break out into hives.

“Um. Wo bu—er, no. I'm not new. Not here for church at all, actually.” He fidgeted and clasped his hands, still full of pilfered mulberries, behind his back. “Just waiting for someone.”

The human raised an eyebrow. “You're welcome to wait inside, if you like,” she said, also switching to English. “I reckon we still have biscuits left from the children's morning service—”

“No!” Crowley said too quickly, and perhaps too sharply. He winced. “I mean. That won't be necessary. I'd much rather stay out here, if it isn't too much trouble.”

The human gave him a Look. Crowley's cheeks heated and he averted his eyes, willing his sunglasses a few shades darker.

“Beautiful, aren't they?”

Crowley's head shot back up. The human had turned her back to him and was running a hand through the glossy green leaves of the nearest mulberry tree. Crowley could practically see the branches stretch out in delight beneath her touch, like a purring cat.

“Volunteers from our congregation take care of them,” the human continued, smiling at the young tree. “The kids here like raising silkworms, you see, and we welcome them to pick leaves from the trees each week to feed them.”

Silkworms. Of course. Despite himself, a hazy memory rose to the forefront of his mind: Sichuan, China, several hundreds of years ago. A family farm, weathered and cozy and oozing enough sheer goodness to make the average demon ill with it. Crowley wouldn't normally be caught dead in such a place, but he had owed a favour to the angel. His fingers twitched at the phantom memory of butter-soft silk fibres against his skin; long, winding threads that stretched out thin and fine, tangling so easily around his uncertain fingers. With this memory came the golden, moon-round face of a child he hadn't thought about in centuries, grinning toothily as they held out a box to him, a box filled with small pale larvae that wriggled among the spade-shaped leaves. “Zhe jiao can.”

Crowley forced himself to return to the present. The human was speaking to him.

“—waiting on Mr. Fell?” she asked.

Crowley blinked. Shook himself a little. “Yeah. He's helping out with the restoration of some old manuscript or other.”

The human smiled again. It was an unnervingly piercing expression. “I'm aware. I was the one who requested his help. Such a lovely man. Are you a friend of his?”

Crowley tensed. “His husband, actually.”

He braced himself, but the human only brightened. “Goodness, then you must be Mr. Crowley! Mr. Fell talks ever so much about you. Finally gone and tied the knot then, have you?”

Before Crowley could stammer out a reply, something dinged loudly, making him jump. The human pulled a phone out from her pocket and squinted at the screen.

“Sorry, I have to run back inside. But it was lovely meeting you, Mr. Crowley.” She stuck out a hand—thankfully not the one that had been holding the Bible—and after a brief hesitation, Crowley shook it. As quickly as she had arrived, the human disappeared from the garden, leaving Crowley alone and off-kilter amid a grove of mulberry trees.

---

Aziraphale emerged from the church around an hour later to find Crowley seated on the curb next to the Bentley, basking in the last rays of the afternoon sun as he scrolled through his phone.

“My dear,” the angel sighed. His joints creaked as he eased himself down to sit next to Crowley on the roadside. “Don't tell me you've been sitting here the entire time.”

“Nope,” Crowley said, popping the ‘p’. “I toured the gardens for a bit. Swiped some fruits, too. The mulberries aren’t half-bad, for a bunch of church plants, but they’ll need a good deal more threatening before they're really up to snuff.”

Crowley stopped when he saw Aziraphale chewing his lip, brow furrowed as he studied Crowley's face. Now it was Crowley's turn to sigh.

“Really, angel. It's fine. I was hardly bored.”

The expression didn't leave Aziraphale's face. A soft brown hand reached out and brushed aside stray wisps of hair from Crowley's forehead. The demon hadn't bothered to cut it since the Apocalypse-that-wasn't, and it was growing longer and more unruly by the day.

“I'm fine.” Crowley caught Aziraphale's hand and held it, carefully. He pressed his lips against the well-manicured fingers. “It was years ago, angel, and we both came out of it all right. You don't need to worry about me.”

Aziraphale still looked vaguely distressed as Crowley drew him close. With the sun setting behind him, framing his face and curly dark hair in a golden halo, he was the most beautiful thing Crowley had ever seen.

He kissed him then, right there on the road, in full sight of the church and probably Someone Else, too, if She happened to be watching at that particular moment. Once, he would've been terrified of such a public display, but he hadn't gone through hellfire and holy water to care anymore about what others thought of them.

As he helped Aziraphale into the Bentley, he noticed abruptly that the angel was carrying what appeared to be a shoebox, of all things, along with his usual camelhair coat.

“What on Earth is that?”

“Oh!” Aziraphale carefully pushed the box over to Crowley. “Mrs. Lao gave it to me once I'd finished with those manuscripts. She said it was a gift for you, actually. Have the two of you met before?”

Crowley stared down at the box, baffled. “We talked for a bit in the gardens just now, but I can’t imagine why…”

He trailed off, and his mouth dropped open as Aziraphale eased open the lid and beheld the contents with a raised eyebrow.

“Good heavens. Are those caterpillars?”

“Silkworms,” Crowley corrected automatically, leaning in for a closer look. There were so many of them, somehow both smaller and larger than he remembered, all white and wiggly and chomping away busily at the layers of mulberry leaves filling their box. None of them paid any attention whatsoever to their occult observers hovering above them.

“Why would she give you such a thing? Not that they aren't dear little creatures,” Aziraphale added hastily, glancing into the box, “but I doubt I have the means to keep them in the bookshop.”

“No need,” Crowley said before he could stop himself. “I can raise 'em in my flat.”

Aziraphale gave him a curious look. “You know how to care for these… insects?”

“Yeah.” Crowley gently shut the lid of the inhabited shoebox and curled a hand around the Bentley's stick-shift. “I've done something like this, before. I know what I'm doing.”

“If you say so.” Suddenly Aziraphale chuckled. At Crowley's affronted look, he demurred, “I'm not making fun, my dear. It's only that you still manage to surprise me, even after all these years.”

Aziraphale leaned in and pecked Crowley's cheek, making him blush red and sputter. Much to his disgruntlement, the Bentley chirped a light-hearted rendition of Haydn's Crazy Little Thing Called Love all the way home.

---

Crowley had spent the past eleven years co-parenting the Antichrist with Aziraphale.² They had faced this challenge head-on, and in his opinion, it hadn’t gone too shabbily. Now, without the threat of the Apocalypse hanging over his head, becoming a surrogate parent was far less daunting the second time around.

[² Even if young Warlock hadn't really been the son of Satan, it was the principle of the thing.]

Still, Crowley worried. He had always been something of a worrier, and that hadn't changed even after the First Day of the Rest of Their Lives.

After dropping off Aziraphale at the bookshop, Crowley returned to his flat, where he commenced the preparations for introducing his unexpected twenty-odd guests to their new home. This was accomplished by miracling up a small glass aquarium onto his desk, lining the bottom with paper towels, and carefully (read: nervously) placing the silkworms one by one into the tank. Once this was done, Crowley scattered the half-eaten mulberry leaves from the box around the aquarium. The silkworms set upon their interrupted lunch with all the enthusiasm of Aziraphale devouring a meringue pie at the Ritz.

Crowley slumped into his chair, took off his sunglasses with a wince, and rested his chin on his desk, staring into the glass tank.

“I raised your ancestors once, you know,” Crowley informed the wriggling creatures. “Tiny farm in China several centuries back. We'd weave branches together into a tray and let you loose inside. Bit like how manmade beehives work, or something.”

Crowley paused. Watched one silkworm slowly inch its way across a stem to tackle a new section of leaf. “‘Course, humans use wire mesh nowadays, but the general premise is the same. Always thought it was bloody clever, what humans could come up with. If you gave me a bunch of moth larvae and told me to make a living out of them, I definitely wouldn't think to make clothes.” He snorted. “Whoever came up with that, I'd like a glass of whatever they were drinking.”

The silkworms munched on. They ate much faster than they crawled, that was certain. In the quiet walls of his flat, away from prying human eyes, Crowley loosened the knot of his silk tie and tugged it off, easing the tightness around his neck.

“You're the ones who made this, in a sense,” he said, waving the tie at them. He laid the tie beside one glass wall of the tank at just the right angle for the inhabitants within to see. Several silkworms looked up curiously.

Crowley tossed his suit jacket aside, then unbuttoned his shirt collar. He had always prided himself on his sharp, modern attire over the years, the better to tempt humans with—or so he claimed. Despite repeated scoldings from his superiors, his Lust quotas had never been quite up to par.

Sufficiently dishevelled, and feeling all the freer for it, Crowley sank back into his chair to watch the silkworms.

“The only thing I didn't like about the process was the boiling,” he murmured. “Logically, I can see why it was done. And you would all be in cocoons, so it's not like you'd be in any pain. Not like I was.” He exhaled, the sound becoming a low hiss. “But still. Never liked it. Always felt like an awful lot of trouble just for the sake of some silk threads.”

One particularly adventurous silkworm had nosed its way upwards and was now creeping over the edge of the tank opening. Crowley made a mental note to devise a lid of some kind and stuck his finger against the lip of the tank. The silkworm crawled onto his hand without any hesitation. Tentatively, he drew it closer. Its many feet stuck stubbornly to his skin, and it reared up as he approached, swaying slightly, its mandibles twitching.

Crowley stared at the silkworm. The silkworm stared back, and seemed disappointed when Crowley had nothing else to offer. Just to prove it wrong, Crowley materialized a single large mulberry leaf in his other hand and presented it to the insect, who fell upon it with gluttonous enthusiasm.

Staring at the miracled leaf, an idea formed in Crowley's mind. He smiled, slowly.

“I need a hobby, now that I'm jobless,” he said aloud to the silkworm, letting it creep onto his palm. He ran a careful finger over its smooth back. “I think I'll take up sericulture again, for old time's sake.” He reached back into the tank and gently encouraged the silkworm to crawl back inside.

“Humans have to boil you alive to get those nice unbroken threads off your cocoons,” Crowley mused, withdrawing his hand. “Fortunately, I don't have to do things the human way.” He lowered himself until he was eye-level with the inhabitants of the tank. The silkworm he had carried paused in its perpetual eating and turned its head, almost like it was looking at him.

“How's this?” Crowley asked. “You'll be able to grow into a fuzzy, fully grown silk-moth, and I can take your cocoon after you've finished with it and miracle the threads whole again.” He paused and mulled it over. “I guess I could take it a step further and just miracle the finished silk together, but there's still something to be said about the human way of doing things.”

The silkworm bobbed the front half of its body as though in agreement. Crowley smiled again.

“We can make silk, and no one gets hurt. I'm a few hundred years out of practice, but I'm sure I could make it work, somehow.”

The silkworm turned its attention back to its meal. Crowley didn't notice. He was too busy wondering if Aziraphale had any old texts on silk-weaving that he could borrow, just so he could refresh his memory.

The angel would appreciate having a new silk bowtie to add to his collection.

---

Thank you for reading! Replies and reblogs are always much appreciated. <3

[gifted-burnout-archive]

Jim’s Best Friend

Part Six - With Festivities Comes Chaos

Word Count: 2072

Author’s Note: Bless Jim Halpert

WARNING: None.

December, 2005.

The past two months had been touch and go for you, but you were finally coming out the other side of it all. After Jim and Pam had taken care of you on Halloween, you had spent the rest of the week out of the office, and when you came back and still had a cut over your brow and a bruised cheek, you went with the cover story of slipping and being too proud to admit it.

Of course, you broke your silent treatment against Michael to tell him what actually happened, Jim and Pam flanking you in his office for emotional support. And Michael apologised, for everything since Packer. And now your face had finally healed up (though your side was still bruised pretty badly), everything was getting back to normal, slowly but sure.

—

"There was one day, in the break room, and we weren't doing anything important, but Phyllis told a joke." Jim explained to the crew, biting his lip as he smiled. "And it was the first time I had heard Y/N laugh in months. It was just... She's finally moving forward. Got a restraining order on Brian..." his fist clenched as he spoke his name. "Moved apartment too, somewhere closer to work. Which is great, because I pick her up everyday before work now."

"Well, if your friend went through that, you'd want to make sure they're safe." Jim shrugged. "And look, the rest of the office don't know, obviously. Just Pam, Michael, Toby and I... So keep in under wraps, will you?"

—

Michael was out of the office for a big deal with corporate, and mid afternoon, Pam had found it.

The screenplay. Threat Level: Midnight.

FBI agent Michael Scarn, Catherine Zeta-Jones, impossible feats, illustrations, the lot. After uncovering it, she rushed over to you and Jim, sharing her findings.

"Oh, Pam, good work..." Jim laughed, reading through it, and you winked at Pam, agreeing. It was completely ridiculous, and so very long.

"What do you say to maybe gathering up the office? Having a read through?" You suggested, biting the cap of your pen as you glanced at the pair, Pam letting out a squeal of delight and taking the script from Jim to photocopy.

"Dream team, that's what us three are." Jim smirked, and got up to start gathering colleagues. You finished off the report you were working on, and raided the kitchen for snacks to keep Kevin fed for the next few hours.

The entire team met in the conference room, Pam handing out the screenplay to everyone, and Jim taking charge.

"Do we all have our copy of Threat Level: Midnight by Michael Scott?" Jim asked, and when met with nods and murmuring ascent, he smiled. "All right, let's get this started. I'm gonna be reading the action descriptions, and Phyllis, I would like you to play Catherine Zeta-Jones." Jim offered, and Phyllis snorted.

"That's the character's name?" She asked, but before Jim could respond, Dwight, who was hovering in the doorway, spoke up.

"Okay, you guys should not be doing this!" He announced, Jim looked over at him.

"Why not, Dwight? I mean, this is a movie." Jim turned to the table, staring into the distance for the following emotional words. "This is for all of America to enjoy."

"You took something that doesn't belong to you-"

"Dwight."

"-Brought it in here and made copies of it-"

"Do you want to play the lead role of Agent Michael Scarn?" Jim asked, and that shut Dwight up immediately. He took the spare script from the table centre, sitting down in a spare chair, the room smiling as Jim began to set the scene.

—

After Pam had chatted with Roy about staying late, and Dwight had discovered that he was originally the useless sidekick, Jim called an intermission, and you took a very much needed rest from your tiring role of Assistant Number 3/ Shop Clerk/ Hot Babe. You got up to stretch your legs, about to follow Jim and Pam into the kitchen when a cough caught your attention.

"Y/N." Dwight stood in front of you, Kevin hoovering a few feet away.

"What's up Dwigt?" You asked, intentionally mispronouncing his name. He pursed his lips, but decided whatever he needed to say was more important than ignoring me.

"We don't have a lighter for the fireworks..." he sighed in defeat, and you walked over to your desk, bending over and picking your hand bag, wincing as pain ran up your side. You shook it off, opening the meticulously organised accessory, and beside a packet of unopened cigarettes and your black moleskin notebook was a lighter and matches. You handed them both over to Dwight, and nodded.

"I need them back before we all leave tonight." You reminded him, and the pair nodded like children entrusted with adult scissors before running off, across the street, to play with their fireworks.

You had a look through the office, unable to find Jim and Pam, and with a few moments of thinking, you headed down the stairs and out the building, still holding your handbag, standing in the car park to supervise Dwight and Kevin's misadventures with fire. And while you could hear the whooping of two grown men jumping around a rather pathetic firework box, muted chatter came from closer by. You glanced around, trying to find the bodies to which the voices belonged, but there was no one outside expect you, Dwight and Kevin.

And then you heard Jim laugh.

You looked up, and not quite being able to see anything, you crossed over the road and squinted. Against the darkness, a few candles lit up Jim's face, and the giggle that followed a few moments later confirmed to you that Pam was with him. And the conversation Meredith, Kelly and Phyllis has all those months ago filled your brain.

Jim, Jim with the girlfriend Katy, had the hots for Pam. Pam Pam. Pam with a fiancé Pam.

"What's up Y/N?" Kevin asked, and you walked over to the pair, taking back your matches and lighter, leaving the latter out and pulling out the box of cigarettes, holding one between your lips and lighting it quickly.

"You don't smoke." Dwight said quickly, and you took a long drag, blowing the smoke into the cold night air.

"I do now."

—

The following weeks leading up to Christmas were filled with rumours and suspicions. From Jan and Michael to Angela and Dwight to Pam and Jim... and you needed to know the truth. It wasn't that you didn't want both of your friends to be happy, but that you knew Roy and Pam, how important that relationship has been for them. Heartbreak was hard, and it was up to you to make sure neither side were left feeling that way.

So, when the Christmas Party rolled around, after the terror that was Dwight and Michael's 8 foot tall Christmas tree, and Phyllis' stellar attempt to find the right Christmas lights, it was time for Secret Santa.

"Oscar!" Dwight called, tossing the present over while showing off his elf hat and ears.

"Oh neat, a shower radio." Oscar smiles, and Kelly raised her hand behind him.

"Yeah, That was me." She said with a smile.

"Oh you I was going to buy one of thes-"

"Boring! Next! Jim." Dwight tossed over a plastic bag, and Jim lifted out a flannel that looked about twenty years old. It was from Creed, go figure.

And then came Pam, and by the look on Jim's face it was clear he had bought it for her. She opened the boxed carefully and let out a squeal after moving aside the tissue paper, lifting out a beautiful turquoise teapot, displaying it to the room. You sent a smile over Jim's way, and he grinned back, proud of himself.

"Ryan!" Dwight tossed the next present over, and Michael let out a yelp as it flew through the air. Ryan caught it with ease, unwrapping the box and muttering a soft 'wow'.

A video iPod.

A $400 video iPod, on a $20 spending limit.

And then Phyllis made Michael an oven mitt and all hell broke loose.

For those unfamiliar with White Elephant, or Nasty Christmas, or, as Michael named it, Yankee Swap, there a few rules. You can either steal a gift from those already opened, or you can pick a new gift. No take backs, no more than one gift. And by the end, only about two people are actually happy.

So, after an hour or so of passing presents, and Pam's teapot going from Pam to Meredith to Oscar and then finally to Dwight, you sat with a choice to make: steal or take the gift in the middle. You glanced over at Pam, quite happily clutching her new iPod, and you glanced at Jim, who looked more than done with the entire day.

"I'll take the teapot." You say, walking over in your red Christmas inspired dress and pulling the teapot from Dwight's arms, much to his dismay.

"Fine! I'll take the coffee mug." He muttered, and you sat down in the free chair, holding the teapot to your chest. Once everything had finally finished, Phyllis marched out, upset, with Meredith quickly following.

"What is she so upset about?" Michael scores, and you rolled your eyes.

"You did the whole Yankee Swap thing just because you didn't like your present." You said, shaking your head.

"Everybody loves Yankee Swap. And I still ended up with Dwight's stupid paintball pellets!"

"The point is Michael, we all bought gifts for specific people." Jim chimed in, though he gave me a look of gratitude for taking the teapot from Dwight.

"You should have stuck with the $20 limit." Stanley scolded Michael, who jumped from his seat.

"Yeah, well I didn't. I got a big bonus because I fired Devon and I used the money to buy something awesome. Sue me!" Michael exclaimed, and the room was silent.

"You got a bonus check?" Oscar asked first.

"How much?" Pam quizzed.

"Uh, it wasn't that much it was... It was 3,000." Michael admitted, and Stanley laughed.

"No, I'm done now." He said, turning away. And the rest of the room, you included, was just in shock. 3,000 dollar bonus for firing a staff member? You glanced over at Jim, who just walked back to his desk and cleared his stuff away for the holidays.

It was supposed to be a Christmas party, not that anyone was in the mood. As the office stood around, catching up with the guys from downstairs, Jim pulled you aside into the conference room.

"Thank you for taking the teapot..."

"No problem... You know, I'm a fan of shamrock key rings." You said, glancing at the gift Jim had ended up with. "Trade? You can give this to Pam properly?" You suggested before Dwight popped up out of nowhere.

"There's no trades allowed!" He snapped, and the pair of you shared a look.

"Then Jim can buy it from me-"

"Not a chance. If you don't leave the building with that teapot I will get you fired Y/N." Dwight threatened, and Jim laughed.

"You realise Michael likes Y/N way more than he likes you, or anyone for that matter." Jim folded his arms, and Dwight started with a comeback. You took your teapot in one arm, and Jim in the other, and you led him away from Dwight, away from Pam and Roy, and out into the corridor.

"Jim, we need to talk about what's in this box." You said softly, the music playing loud enough for no one to eavesdrop.

"What do you mean Y/N?" He asked, and you opened your mouth to respond when Michael barged past you both with more bottles of vodka than you could count. "Well, he's making up for that bonus check."

"Jim... Stay on topic." You pleaded, walking further away from the noise of the party. The two of you ended up in the staircase, and Jim watched you open the box, and then remove the card. "Is this what I think it is..." You said slowly, and Jim looked down, running his hands through his hair.

"Y/N, I'm in love with Pam. I've... I've been in love with Pam since we started here... And I need you to help me win her over." Jim admitted.

[helloandwelcometomariasblog]

Review #91: Sister

Written by Xiaoying You, Directed by Ruoxin Yin

Sister immediately caught my attention for two reasons: It's an Asian film, and it's about family. After watching the trailer, I knew I had to go see it at the cinemas. There seemed to be aspects of it that I really liked - family members unable to love each other with nobody specific to blame. I really wanted to know how the characters would resolve that. And so I went to see it.

I was disappointed and not invested maybe a third of the film. I was slowly won over during two-thirds of the film, then by the end, I was bawling. Really. And the film remained with me for a while after that too.

The reason I wasn't invested at first was, I think, pretty simple. The main character was such a biatch. Yes, I understood her - she had enough reasons to be that biatch, but nobody actually wants to see the main character really be one. We could all see why she hated her brother and why she felt she wasn't responsible. We could all see that she wasn't loved as much as her brother was while her parents were alive. We could all see that her family members were also inconsiderate, pushing her to take care of her little brother despite the abuse she herself had gone through. We could also see that her brother was being a pain from time to time, and that she had her own life and her own plans - she was smart and wanted to be a doctor and also get married to her long-term boyfriend.

BUT. But despite all that, the second most important character is a little boy. A child. Moreover, he's a child who has just lost both parents. He doesn't even know what death means, what grief means, and here he is thrown around like a soccer ball, from heartless person to heartless person. And nobody wants to keep him. I just couldn't empathize with the main character when here was a child who was being forced to live through grief and constant abandonment by himself. Like what the fuck? Maybe I was even more angry because I have a little brother with around the same age difference. I don't think I could ever give my brother up to adoption regardless of whatever happened between me and my parents. Hating parents is one thing, abandoning a child is another.

Also, that child just went through something incredibly traumatic that even adults struggle with. Of course he needs more care and attention during this time. But he doesn't get it (in fact he gets the exact opposite, right in front of his face) and you're surprised and angry that he's acting out? That's his way of crying out for help. And what does the sister do? Become a biatch, that's what.

I just honestly could not empathize with her. And this lack of empathy and relatability made it initially very hard to become immersed in the film. I constantly found myself empathizing with the little brother instead and feeling really sorry for him. It really didn't help that he was a child. Children already have the image of being helpless and weak, and the film put that child in an even more vulnerable situation with a sister who literally wants to abandon him and overtly hates him. Like, come on.

This sister slowly starts changing as the film progresses. It's true that the beginning of the film may have been more realistic than others. The sister had issues she had to resolve within herself and the film may have just shown that in the most dirtiest and realest way possible, with no sugar coating. If that's what the film intended, I gotta say it succeeded. I'm just glad I stuck with it because it was incredibly cathartic seeing the sister heal herself as the film goes on. It surely doesn't happen immediately though, which I loved. It took quite a long time (which is probably why the film is over two hours long), but it was time well-spent, and more realistic too.

The sister goes back and forth many times, but that makes it even more real. There are moments when she advocates for her brother and takes care of him, and then the next moment she's back to wanting her own life and giving him up to adoption. The back-and-forth movements become more and more dramatic as time goes on, and the sister finds it harder and harder to emotionally detach herself from her brother. The film does all of this gradually, which is one of its strongest points. It reflects real life better.

A standout scene for me is when the sister goes to visit her brother after sitting her exams, and she finds her brother playing mahjong with a damn cigarette tucked behind his ear. I honestly gasped at that scene, and would have reacted exactly the same way the sister did - yell and scream at the uncle and drag little brother out of there. We're then led to a really heartwarming scene where the sister bathes her brother at the apartment during golden hour, sunlight pouring through the glass. I'm trying to remember the dialogue during that scene. I'm sure it was something really warm.

What I also loved was how, even after this heartwarming scene, the sister still decides to leave to Beijing. It felt way more realistic than some other family movies where it doesn't take much for the person to give up their desires for the younger being. It's shown during another standout scene where the siblings lie in bed, having a talk before going to sleep. The little brother asks her if she still wants to go to Beijing and why. The sister answers honestly and we can all tell that she really dreams of this life that she's planned out. The sad thing is that the brother is included in that 'we'. I didn't know during that scene, but in the following scenes, I realised that he understood exactly what his sister wanted.

It was really crazy how the little brother left his sister on his own accord and gave himself up to adoption just so his sister could pursue her dreams. As much as I loved that beat, I found myself seriously wondering: is that realistic? That a six year old boy would be that deeply sacrificial? He's probably the most sacrificial and loving character in the film, even more than his sister. It was a great beat though, one of the best in the movie. It was heartbreaking seeing him cry, unable to tell his sister why he chose to leave her. It was like a drama scene where one of the leads forces themselves to leave their partner and be all noble and sacrificial. Still not sure if it's realistic for a six year old to do that though. It's kind of sad even thinking of it. A child doing something even most adults wouldn't do. The brother really had to grow up and mature at a super young age. It's sad. I wonder what kind of teenager and adult he will be in the future. I hope he gets to resolve the hurts inside of him too as he grows up.

And so the sister actually buys the ticket for Beijing and prepares to leave. Again, I loved this. I loved how the film took us till the very end of the end before resolving things. The film really made us believe the sister would leave. And to be honest, I understood her and didn't blame her for deciding to pursue her dreams. I sat there wondering how they would actually resolve things. The ending scene is definitely one of my favourites, maybe even the favourite. I loved how the sister was given an ultimatum: you can leave, but if you leave, you've gotta sign the paper to say you'll never come to see your brother ever again. It was a great choice. There was so much at risk on both sides. It was a moment where I genuinely wasn't sure what she would do - I knew she loved both her brother and her dream and held both of them dearly. Both of them were precious.

I held my breath when she hesitated, pen hovering over the paper. Then she throws the pen down and runs out to her brother, and when her little brother turns to her, his eyes are full of tears. My heart. My heart. My damn heart! I bawled there, the tears just flowed. The brother had been pretending to be okay and holding all tears back, thinking that his sister would feel bad if she saw him cry and she'd give up her dreams. That's just too much for a six year old, I swear. He finally lets it out when he knows she still wants and loves him. That was both incredibly painful and cathartic to watch. What an amazing climax and resolution.

I also liked how the sister resolved her own deep issues before finally going back to her brother. I believe it's shown in the scene where she visits her parents' grave on the rainy day and cries to them. There was a hint of the start of her healing when she cries and lets out her honest feelings during night in front of her parents' pictures. The rainy day she rips the paper and is again honest to her parents' grave, is a great scene. I also loved the part where she comes down the stairs, and it's a long shot with rainwater flooding down the steps like a beautiful waterfall. It made me want to film something like that in the future. Felt like things were being washed away.

So yes, I started off not liking the film because of how unlikable the main character was (they're allowed to have negative qualities, but I honestly believe there needs to be something that makes the audience identify with them or empathize with them, just something that makes the audience root for them) and her treatment of her brother. I know it was done that way to show her gradual change, but I still do think it could have been done a little differently. Because, even with her treatment of her brother aside, I didn't really like her as a person and had trouble understanding her. She seemed really tantrum-ey at points. But as the film went on, I warmed up to her and the gradual change took place. She was still herself with her own desires even while growing to love her brother, which I loved. She learned to balance things out, and I hope she continued to pursue her dreams even without going to Beijing, with her brother by her side.

I find that this film presented a different image of 'sacrifice', and that it was saying that different image was okay too. You don't have to fully give yourself up for someone. You can still have your own life and that's okay. By the end, none of her family members guilt-trip her about looking after her brother, which I really liked. It's pretty rare for Asian families to not do that guilt-tripping thing. But her aunt did it. Her aunt, who seemed to be the most guilt-tripping person, let her go in the end and told her that it was okay, that not everyone fits that image of sacrifice perfectly, like the Russian dolls. I think that actually enabled the sister to go back to her brother later on. Sometimes you have to let people go to get them back.