#definitely way different from the dead rat for christmas

[willthespy]

HUYS WHY DID THIS DK WELL I HATE IT GET IT OFF MY TOP POSTS THE RVIEVDLBEBDH

a birthday gift from a certain god…

[imsparky2002]

Barbie in the Nutcracker: First Thoughts

The following is my thoughts while watching this for the first time.

Credits look awful. Still, it’s 2001 and this is the first installment so I’ll give it a pass.

Only know the basic Nutcracker song and theme but nice that it uses an orchestra

Barbie herself doesn’t look too bad but her little sis… yikes.

Kinda weird to see these dolls moving like mocap performers.

Heh! Barbie’s voice actor has the same name as her little sister.

Kelly very clearly sounds like an adult woman trying to do a kiddish voice.

Lipsyncing is odd, looks more like generic flapping.

Surprisingly decent snow effects.

I’m assuming Clara’s parents are either dead or abandoned them. Or they could also just be on vacation.

Is it wrong that I find Grandpa cute? Gives off a very distinguished vibe. Especially that voice.

They call gingerbread houses “christmas boxes”? That’s… interesting.

Kinda wish they gave Clara a different voice from Barbie, or at the very least a different hairstyle.

The lighting is actually pretty good! Nice warm hues, makes me feel like I’m at a cozy inn.

Her little brother looks like the kids who played Fortnite and would tease me in high school. Of course his name is fuckin’ Tommy.

This CGI is reminding me of early PS2 cutscenes.

Aunt Drosselmayer’s got that 90’s Leo DiCaprio/Hugh Grant parting in her hair. Bleh.

Why is Clara the only blonde in the family?

Ooh! We’ve got some family drama between Auntie and Grandpa. This is getting juicy.

Elizabeth is giving me confident bisexual vibes with the voice and manner of movement. Bet you that’s why Grandpa doesn’t trust her.

Looking at the wiki I just found out that Trixie’s VA voices the Aunt, Starlight’s VA is Barbie and Cadence’s VA is one of the kids! Must be a Canadian production.

I will never not find the word “nutcracker” to be hilarious.

Clara, why tf are you fighting over a toy with your lil brother? You’re like… 17? 18? I dunno but it’s way too old.

Seriously they gave Tommy the most punchable face ever. Not that I’d ever punch a kid but I can see why other kids his age would deck him.

Magic shenanigans are ensuing.

I like the medeival look of the rats. The CGI actually fits them well.

Clara wakes up to see an anthropomorphic warrior rat right next to her eating something and is just like “goddamn it, git ya varmint!” I love it.

Oh, she thinks she’s dreaming. That makes sense to why she’s so calm.

Hmm… I feel like the Rat King should look a bit more evil, and larger as well. Still, TIM CURRY! I’m gonna LOVE this.

Woah! We’re getting a fight scene! A swordfighting scene to be exact!

Oooh the Rat King’s magic and can shapeshift his weapon. That’s metal AF.

Tim Curry putting everything into his performance as usual.

I’m kinda surprised we’re already getting a Nutcracker-Rat King battle. I’d have thought they’d save that sorta thing until the third act.

Did they really have to change it to Sugarplum Princess? Fairy just sounds more powerful.

Wow! This snowy cave is beautiful! Something out of a classic painting.

EWWW THESE LIL SNOW FAIRIES LOOK DISGUSTING!

Did this nutfucker not realize that an icy fortress would have ice for the walls?

The fairies doing ballet looks weird because they have nothing to stand on.

Please don’t tell me the small fairy is staying, I hate her.

Dance is currently reminding me of Fantasia.

“The fairies probably went off to make a blizzard somewhere”. The way he said that nonchalantly had me cackling.

The effect of Clara’s footsteps turning into flowers is beautiful.

Pimm sounds like he’s an absolute troll online. Also gives me Psychicpebbles vibes (though I know it’s not him).

Wow the Rat King is a straight up genocider.

Why do all the kids look like Kelly?

OH DEAR GOD THAT LITTLE BOY LOOKS HORRIFYING.

Wait Prince Eric? Are they legally allowed to call him that? We all know how much Disney loves copyrights.

Man these kids are little shits and their outfits are gagworthy.

Major Mint definitely got a big personality, and the voice actor does a good job with it.

Ok Mint is hilarious and is so far the best part of the movie.

Nice to see some Asian rep with Captain Candy.

Wow, Rat King turns his failed employees into stone. Dark!

The zoom in on the Rat King as he says “that’s it?” made me giggle.

Thomas Astruc looked at the Rock Golem and got his first idea for an akuma.

Wait how the hell does Clara know that the Nutcracker is Prince Eric? I mean I already assumed because of the plot of the original ballet, but how does she know?!

The bridge scene gives me the willies, since I’m afraid of heights.

Wow this flower fairy is the only kid-looking character that has a decent design.

Didn’t expect a song to be interrupted by an enemy.

Lol, the Major’s monocle falls off as he sees the giant.

Glad to see the fairies serve a purpose other than dancing. Kick that giant’s ass!

Captain Candy’s a better man than Mint, as he actually makes sure that he gets saved.

Once again, the island is beautiful! Reminds me of Oz with the colored roads.

Ooh clever! At first I thought the castle’s backdrop looked really fake but I just factored it was because it’s 2001 CGI. But it was actually a trap!

Nice we see a test of Clara’s character that she passed.

The invisble hand touching Clara’s hand is actually making me feel kinda teary-eyed internally.

The Rat King definitely has a Napoleon complex.

Loving the character arc for Nutcracker with his final duel.

Ah! So now the Rat King is growing. Fits for the climax.

Huh… Prince Eric looks more like Jimmy Pesto than a prince.

Lol Major Mint realizes he’s been shittalking the prince.

Huh, so Clara’s the princess? I guess it sorta makes sense since it’s her dream.

For those princes out there who are hated by the public, all ya gotta do is fight a giant mouse.

Mint and Candy got the moves! Best dancers of the entire movie.

The final dance between Eric and Clara is absolutely gorgeous.

The villain was taken down by a snowball… I love it.

God Kelly Sheridan and Kirby Morrow really put everything into the scene where Clara disappears.

Lol Kelly’s Canana accent shows up when she says “It’s not a story”.

“What’s all this foolishness about mice kings and bats, Clara? Enough of your womenly hysteria! Time for a lobotomy!” Grandpa, basically.

Actually now that he’s in a suit, Eric looks a lot hotter.

I’m surprised Barbie’s little sister had the attention span to listen to a 1 hour story.

I'll be making a full review of the film soon. Let me know thoughts in the comments and reblogs. @artzychic27 @msweebyness

[davenweenie]

Little Baby HC Post

Hey babes, sorry for the lack of Lab Rats HCs lately. I’ve had exams and shows coming up for Christmas time. I’ve been really busy so there won’t be much from me until my exams are over. My last show is next week so I’ll be busy until then. But for now, have a few HCs to quench your thirst of this surprisingly not dead fandom.

-Chase still likes to play guitar in his free time, Kaz finds him playing one day with the mute function on (he had his headphones plugged in) and asked if he could hear him play. Kaz was amazed.

-Kaz is a punk and his favourite band is the Ramones. Douglas was a punk in his youth (he still is, just more muted) and takes Kaz under his wing and takes him to punk gigs or tribute bands of both of their favourite bands.

-Bree loves scaring people by using her vocal manipulation, she’s also the master at prank calls now.

-Chase sometimes accidentally floats (I think we all forget he can levitate as part of one of his bionic abilities, ppl need to talk abt this more) and he never notices until someone points it out to him.

-Chase has complete heterochromia (two different eye colours) and you don’t really notice it until his bionic eye glows. It was the first thing Kaz noticed though, and he loves it. However he constantly fake cries about how his boyfriend’s eyes are ‘straight’ (get it, because HETEROchromia)

-I’m not sure if I’ve talked about this hc before but Leo is definitely queer. He calls himself queer because he hasn’t found a label that fits better than that. He likes any gender but used to have a preference for girls. He now doesn’t mind whatever gender he dates.

-Chase had a massive hyperfixation with baking at one point and everybody loves it. Kaz gained about ten pounds from the amount of cookies and cakes he had been eating.

-Kaz is little spoon. He loves feeling encased in love.

-BUFF KAZ SUPREMACY! That man became a non-toxic gym bro after joining the Elite Force and no I’m not accepting disagreement at this point in time.

-Oliver is one of the best at a good sneak attack. Nobody expects a really lean guy to be the one who has super strength. People think he might have super speed but no, he’s super strong. People expect Kaz to be the one that got super strength because he looks the most buff but no, it’s Oliver.

-I hc Skylar to be pretty buff too. I love the way Tabs(? Please tell me you know who I’m talking about. I have completely forgotten their username. They wrote Decimation and other Elite Force rewrites on AO3 and do a lot of Lab Rats art here) draws Skylar.

Anyway, that is all for today, folks. I hope you enjoyed this half-assed post. I’m sorry it’s a little rushed but I wanted to get something out there.

[lebenspurpur]

Slashers and Christmas pt.1

AN: Something for Christmas time. Probably going to do the rest of the slashers too, just not today. In here are: ~Michael Myers (RZ) ~the Sinclair Brothers ~Brahms Heelshire

Warnings: a bit of violence in Michael's, hinted NSFW in Brahms'

Wordcount: 1112 words

🍬 Michael Myers 🍬

Christmas was never really celebrated at his house so he never really understood the hype about it. When he thinks about it all he sees are the kids from school with their big grins and Christmas sweaters, sending disgusted smiles his way or, even worse, he gets flashbacks of Dr. Loomis gifting him useless crap he didn't need anyway.

He notices it when he leaves the house in his usual attire and every single house except yours is decorated with blinking, colorful lights, and creepy Santa figurines. He doesn't like it.

Michael does get a toll out of pretending to be Santa though. The thought of someone (probably a child) mistaking him for Santa Clause while he's literally trying to murder them is quite funny to Michael.

Oh, and snow-fights. Michael might be a giant, scary killing machine but there's still a child inside him. Prepare to be absolutely blasted with snowballs. He'll have the time of his life.

The candy and cookies are also something he likes. Obviously. I'd advise you to hide them all or they'll be gone in a day. And he's not going to help make new ones.

He gifts you a dead rat. I mean what did you expect. Maybe he puts some flowers on it to make it look pretty.

He himself doesn't want a present. If anything he'd like new candy but that's about it. He really doesn't need anything that you don't already give him.

At the end of the day, when you're laying on his chest while watching bad Christmas movies, a plate of cookies and hot chocolate next to you, he changes his mind. Maybe Christmas isn't as bad as he thought.

🍬 the Sinclair family 🍬

The Sinclair brothers didn't celebrate before you came along. Christmas just brought up really painful memories of abuse, of the loss of their parents, just a lot of bad things.

It's when you come along, start to listen to Christmas music, and make cookies when they slowly start to warm up to the holiday again. It takes time until they really celebrate the holiday but you're getting there.

They even help you decorate the town after you coax them a little bit.

🍬 Vincent Sinclair 🍬

Vincent isn't a very big fan of any holiday. They don't hold very good memories and in addition to that, he doesn't like to celebrate things just to celebrate them. It feels stupid to him.

Baking is a thing he enjoys doing, nonetheless. He'll spend hours decorating the different cookies with frosting and in the end, they'll look too pretty to eat. But he has fun and that's all that matters.

Anything else relating to crafting, he'll do too. Decorating Christmas trees, making decorations, he even makes a little scene of a nativity play out of wax.

And the town looks wonderful after he's done. Vincent has an amazing eye for color and everything seems in place and stylish. He's proud of himself too, something you don't see too often.

Vincent will definitely gift everyone something. Bo a new cap and maybe a new knife, Lester some animal bones he carved things into.

With you, it was more complicated because he never had this type of connection and doesn't know what gift is appropriate. He'll probably plan a romantic dinner and then surprise you with a painting of you. He feels like it's not enough but after seeing the dazzling grin develop on your features, he changes his mind.

He'll decorate his wax figurines with Christmas hats. The lopsided, cheeky grin he sends you when you detect his "surprise" is probably going to stick with you until the day you die.

🍬 Bo Sinclair 🍬

Bo likes to pretend that he hates anything relating to family and holidays. He's a tough, hardass serial killer. Why would he care about Christmas?

On the inside, he adores the familiar vibes Holidays like Christmas have. Bo just wants to be a normal man, with a normal family, celebrating the god damn shitty holiday, god damn it.

However, he doesn't tell you that he feels this way. He just shows up whenever you're baking cookies, moping around the living room for no apparent reason until you ask if he wants to join.

Ugh fine. I'll fucking help you. But not for too long, I have more important stuff to do. Sure he has.

He doesn't give gifts but he's more tolerant and relaxed which is its own gift, honestly.

🍬 Lester Sinclair 🍬

Lester missed the holiday the most. He missed spending time with his brothers and he missed feeling normal.

Therefore, he will try his hardest to make Christmas what it's supposed to be.

He'll chop Christmas trees, he'll buy (steal) decorations and food. Hell, he'll even try to cook.

Lester used to try to do that too but always got his feelings hurt by Bo who snarled at him to stop putting crap everywhere.

Now that you're here, there's someone else who wants to celebrate and he couldn't be happier. Every single Christmas tradition, he will do. From mistletoes to Christmas movies to Christmas sweaters, there's no "too much".

Lester will give tons of gifts. He most likely stole or found most of them somewhere but it's the thought that counts! And god isn't it adorable the way his eyes glimmer with joy when you unpack a new plushie he bought.

🍬 Brahms Heelshire 🍬

Brahms and his parents always celebrated Christmas. Always.

So after he had to hide in the walls, he missed it incredibly. The food, the nice atmosphere, the music, Brahms cried himself to sleep during those days because he missed the familiar sensation of being with his loved ones.

With you, he has the whole house and a giant mountain of money to make his dreams come true.

Not only does he want a giant dinner (even if you're just two people), he'll force you to watch Christmas movies with him and the gingerbread house obviously can't be missing.

He has a few ideas that are less family-friendly.

Come on Y/N, why don't you want to bake the cookie dough while wearing nothing underneath the apron? He thinks it's a good idea.

He demands presents. It doesn't really matter what you gift him but you have to gift him something or he'll be disappointed. After all, he has been a good boy, hasn't he?

Christmas is a nice excuse to just snuggle in front of the fireplace with some tea while you read his favorite book. For once he isn't that strict with the chores, it's Christmas after all. You should just relax.

[fandom-writer642]

Street Rat Christmas

Summary: It’s (Y/n)’s first Christmas season with their new family but they don’t want to give up an old tradition. The problem? Jason and Selina are the only one’s in the family that have heard of the tradition, a Street Rat Christmas. The Batfamily, the Kent’s, and the Outlaws are going to be in for the culture shock of their lives as they find out why Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning are always so peaceful in the City of Demons, no matter the crimes that took place just before.

Note: Gender Neutral!Reader, Sweet and Friendly!Reader

Warning: Mention of Death

•••

Yet another sigh escaped from (Y/n)’s lips as they watched the snow gently fall to the ground through the window. The book that they were reading was abandoned in their lap as their (e/c) eyes watched the snowflakes shine and float down in the golden sunlight. Damian couldn’t help but frown at his sibling’s actions, he had been with his father for the past five years and he himself understood that Christmas was a time to be happy. Yet, he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that his normally happy sibling was depressed. Even Damian felt rather pleasant and calm during the two days the holiday was overly focused on.

“Is something the matter (L/n)? Typically you’re more chipper.”

“It’s just my first Christmas without my parents,” (Y/n) replied to him rather sadly. They were remembering how fun Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning always was for their family. Perhaps they could sneak out tonight and join the festivities? “It’s strange, we would be out preparing by now.”

Damian gave (Y/n) a rather quizzical look at that. He understood when they said that they would miss their parents, he couldn’t blame them. However, (Y/n) didn’t come from an amazing or rich family so the preparation note caught him off guard. (Y/n) could’ve been dubbed a street rat by many different people before Bruce had adopted them, and Damian was pretty sure that they had been called a street rat before. Hearing them say preparing was a strange thing, it wasn’t possible for their family since they couldn’t afford something big. Yet, it sounded like a yearly thing for his newest sibling to go through during the holiday season. (Y/n) shot him a smile before they left for their room, taking their book with them. Damian left the study shortly after (Y/n) had left and found himself at the enterance of the living room.

The room was lovely and had many decorations hung up around the room, making it look like the room had been part of a winter wonderland competition and the music in the background was a nice touch. Dick was sitting in an arm chair with Kori on his lap as the pair talked to Roy and Jason who sat on the closer end of the couch. Tim was talking to Kon and Lois on the other side of the couch while Cass talked quietly with Steph, Barbara, and Kate. Selina was sitting next to Bruce as he talked with Clark who had Jon at his side. The room was rather busy with chatter and far too loud for his tastes but he had learned to live with it at this point.

“Hey Damian!” Jon called out to his friend when he noticed him at the entryway. All conversation turn to a pivoting stop to the point that the sweet Christmas songs filled the air of the room. It was a known fact that Damian didn’t spend much time with his family on Christmas Eve until after lunch which was in two hours. “I was wondering where you were.”

Damian nodded his own greeting and understanding to his friend’s words. “I’m sure Jon. I’m however curious about something that doesn’t quite involve me but it does involve (L/n).”

That had caught the whole room’s attention. Everyone knew that (Y/n) was a helpful and sweet soul with little to absolutely no hurtful bone in their whole body.

“Is she alright?” Dick asked worriedly.

“Currently, I’m unaware. I’m well aware that it is their first Christmas without their family but they said something that peaked my interest.”

“What was it?”

“Well, they simply said that their family and themself would be out preparing for some sort of event at this point in time.”

Damian didn’t miss the look that Selina and Jason shared with the other, or the faint smiles on their lips. They had a look in their eyes that was similar if not identical to the one (Y/n) had held not that long ago.

“Preparing for what?” Tim asked curiously. His younger sibling tended to keep closer to Damian and Jason more than anyone else the family knew with the exception perhaps being Alfred.

Damian simply shook his head and kept himself from insulting the older boy, “I’m unaware. It simply peaked my interest because as we all know, (L/n) didn’t come from a very financially stable family. The way that they talked made it sound like an annual event.”

“A tradition on Christmas Eve? In Gotham?” Roy had almost laughed in disbelief. “That’s completely ridiculous. You said it yourself demon spawn, (Y/N) came from a pretty poor family, they don’t exactly have an overwhelming amount their family and them could do.

“No true,” Jason cut off before anyone could agree with his redhead friend. “I actually knew (Y/n) before she ever even met Bruce and moved in because of the festivities that take place on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. Most people call it a Street Rat Christmas but the official term is a Street Rat Holiday. To put it simply, it’s the only break any street rat or poor family tends to get throughout the whole year.”

Bruce leaned forward at the newly acquired information. To him it sounded just like a charity event that takes place on Christmas Eve and Christmas in the worker side of town. The man couldn’t help but feel surprised that he had never heard of such an event even though he lived in Gotham for so long.

“How much do you know about it?” Tim asked.

“A lot,” Jason replied with a simple shrug of his shoulders. “I still tend to go every Christmas Eve no matter what. I don’t count the years I was either dead or presumably dead but I still go, I don’t care if there is a mission, I go.”

“What happens?

“Peace,” Jason smiled slightly. “We should go tonight. You guys just can’t attack or snap at anyone, you have to enjoy yourselves.”

“Why on earth would we snap or attack?” Dick spoke in surprise.

Jason couldn’t stop the small snort or the smirk pulling on his face. “Villains attend the festivities as well. There was an arrangement made between the villains, people, and GCPD that as long as they didn’t harm or make any sort of threats to anyone for that night or the next morning that they could attend.”

“And people talk and interact with them?” Kate spoke up, looking rather stunned by the information.

Selina couldn’t help but nod in agreement, “indeed. I attended a few years back and (Y/n) was there with their family while talking to all sorts of people. They mostly talked to Riddler, Two-Face, and Penguin when it came to interacting with the villains but they did interact with every villain. That includes Joker. Their family was always active in helping set up the event.

Jon had perked up like a puppy dog before speeding out of the room and up the stairs before coming back with a rather flustered looking (Y/n) in his arms. Gently he set them down on the floor which caused them to let out a small sigh of relief. It wasn’t like they didn’t trust Jon, they did, but it was different when he came into their room, picked them up and rushed them down to the living room at super speed. They were still getting used to the whole “living with superheroes” thing as it had only been two months since they moved in.

“What is going on?” They questioned after a moment.

“Just talking about how a Street Rat Christmas functions,” Jason replied to his younger sibling.

No one could miss the way that (Y/n)’s eyes had lit up at the mention of the event. They seemed happier almost immediately at the reminder of the event.

“Oh! Can we go?” (Y/n) turned to Bruce with large kitten eyes that Selina most definitely approved of. “Pleeeeaaaassseee?”

Bruce chuckled at his child’s beg for approval. He already knew what his choice was going to be but first, “I want to know more about this event before I agree to anything.”

“Well, where did I leave off?” Selina wondered. The newest family addition sat on the floor near Bruce and Selina while dragging Damian down and over with them.

“Villains,” Kori reminded.

Selina snapped her fingers with a smile, “right!”

–––

The group had arrived at a large park filled with people and laughter. A giant tree stood tall in the middle of the park and was decorated with all sorts of different and even strange ordiments that were clearly brought or made by the people at the party. Damian could help but let a faint smile appear on his lips as his sibling dragged him toward the main party.

None of the secret heroes could miss the villains in the crowd that greeted the pair with an honest to god real smile. They even saw Joker gift (Y/n) with a very pretty box, the fact made them tense at the sight but for some reason Jason was calm about it. He was calm about seeing his murderer gift his little sibling with a box that could very easily hold a trigger bomb. It made no sense and yet that is how it played out. The young Wayne had opened the gift with a smile and found it to be a purple and green scarf, something that was clearly made with the help of the Riddler.

The family moved around and tried the different activities such as a snow man building contest (Tim and Dick got third place), a scavenger hunt (Damian, Jason, and (Y/n) had easily won that), dance battle to Christmas music (Selina joined forces with Ivy and they got fifth), create an ordiment to hang on the giant tree, ice Christmas cookies, drink hot cocoa, ice skating, a Christmas song karaoke challenge, and many more events. Homeless kids and families were given blankets and clothes as well as other supplies at the end of the night. At three minutes to midnight everyone had gathered around the tree and many were talking excitedly, the kids especially.

“We wish you a merry Christmas”

The Waynes were surprised when everyone began to sing in perfect harmony, the villains, Jason, (Y/N), Selina, and many others were leading the uncertain children and newcomers in the song. Jason had a young girl in his arms who was singing along with him while looking at the glowing tree.

“We wish you a merry Christmas/ We wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year”

Dick, Kori, Roy, and Steph had joined in the singing as well but to their surprise so had Damian. It was much quieter than the others but still noticeable enough.

“Good tidings we bring to you and your kin/We wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year”

As everyone sang Bruce had decided one thing, he was going to have to participate in a Street Rat Christmas every year until he died. His family had been happier than they have in ages while Selina, Jason, and (Y/n) all got to keep a familiar tradition close to them and have the time to remember those that they love and miss; they all did.

•••

Merry Christmas and happy holidays! I hope you all have enjoyed this mini story and have a good holiday! I’m so sorry about lack of activity but I’ve been sooooo busy and a lot of things have been going on with my family so I’ve been stressed. Cya next time! I’m planning Batfamily x Reader x Miraculous Ladybug with Damianette in it, I’ve fallen into a hole and I can’t get out. That story will probably be a series but bare with me, I have little to know means to write as of recent do to issues.

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Green Gold

Summary: 

"The one Levi had picked out was of a minimalist design. The color in particular though was what stood out. At first glance, it looked like a typical gold or yellow. As Levi took a closer look from different angles under a light source, he couldn’t help but notice the way it glowed a bright green and was quick to fall back to a simple yellow. It did it too consistently though that Levi was sure it was not just a trick of the light."

Levi scrambles for a last minute Christmas present and Hange copes with being eight months pregnant.

Same verse as Rough Day, Sugar Rush and Household Planning.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Notes: I know it isn't Christmas yet but I decided to drop some Levihan Christmas Fluff a little early. I wish you all a happy holiday!

When a new jewelry shop opened in a space adjacent to his favorite tea shop in Paradis, Levi was quick to notice it.

It never did catch his interest though. The hard life he had lived for roughly 40 years had him completely nonchalant at most significant developments. The opening of some ordinary jewelry shop was not at all a significant development that called any attention from the battle hardened soldier, even if it did attract a crowd for the first two months.

That was until Mr. Spasky the tea shop owner brought it up over a round of tea tasting. Levi had seen him exchange a few words with the jewelry shop owner before he would welcome Levi into his shop.  He had guessed that they had become fast friends through the excitement of their tones and the detail they looked too comfortable giving each other. The friendship between those two was something he had brushed away too easily though. Levi was too preoccupied by a cranky pregnant Hange and his own household projects to consider much of anything else.

One day, Mr. Spasky brought up one unfamiliar question which got Levi particularly confused.

“So what kind of engagement ring did you buy your woman?"

"Engagement ring? Woman?" Levi frowned in confusion. “I have a woman?”

“It’s the season of giving so maybe it would be a good time…” The shopkeeper winked.

Levi’s thoughts were elsewhere. Partner. That was the word. By the expression and the tone on Mr. Spasky’s face, Levi could at least tell, they had the traditional woman in mind. Of course they would, they’ve never met Hange.

Hange was definitely pregnant and had been glaringly pregnant for the past few months already. Was she being the traditional woman about it? Definitely not.

Levi only had to be reminded of why he even felt the need to correct Mr. Spasky when he got home from his quick trip to the tea shop that day to find Hange as usual, coping with her six month leave in a very unconventional manner.

It had been two months since he had emailed that letter to the queen and requested for a leave for Hange. And with how Hange looked, hunched up on a microscope with a broken rock next to the table, Levi could tell that she was still far from the acceptance stage.

In fact, she had been constantly scrambling for something to do since she had been put in a leave of absence in the first place. She was probably penultimate month of pregnancy according to the doctor and she was still fighting for control of her life.

The first week into the leave she would take long walks, long enough for Levi to feel the need to circle the perimeter of the block where their apartment was, only to end up pacing by the entrance of the house not wanting to relax until she got home. Even when she did arrive home, Levi found himself only getting more stressed by her little souvenirs.

She was like a cat. The big difference lay in the fact that while cats brought home dead rats and game, Hange would bring home different types of leaves, roots and other plant parts and leave them on the table next to the microscope she had set up on her desk.

“Shouldn’t you be doing other things?” Levi had asked as he watched Hange set up the microscope in their room in the wee hours of morning, when he was about to sleep.

“What other things? I’m on leave right?” Hange had too much venom on the word leave that Levi had to look away and remind himself that it was Historia after all who made the final say. So it’s her fault not mine. He would reassure himself, conveniently forgetting the fact that he did draft the letter. He didn’t reply to Hange’s implicit accusation, instead deciding to hide under the covers of his bed and stay there unmoving, even when it did take him an extra three hours to fall asleep.

By the second week, Levi could barely get a wink at night, too busy wondering what risk lay in a pregnant person studying such strange substances. Levi started to follow her surreptitiously as she went about the town, only to see that she had been getting them from a nearby public garden.

It wasn’t strange at all to see Hange digging through plants, roots and flowers. She had expressed her passion for botany on top of titans too many times to count.

But she’s pregnant. And that’s unsanitary as fuck. Hange being unsanitary as fuck wasn’t anything new though. Levi had known her long enough to accept it.

The circumstances then were different. For a while, Levi considered telling her off. He found himself in a state of panic a second later though completely forgetting that intention, as he realized that it wasn’t just unsanitary. A few inches away, a dog decided to pee on that same soil which Hange was digging through. Somehow that view was what helped him put three and two together to get five. Hange was desperately studying whatever green and brown she could find. And it was mixing with dog shit, cat shit and whatever else made their home in that little bush.  

Levi did not need to consult a doctor to know that it was potentially dangerous for a pregnant woman. He rushed back home, went to Hange’s desk and disposed of all the samples into a bag and threw it out into the dumpster before she could get home.

For the first time, Levi was grateful that Hange did go on such long walks. That gave Levi at least enough time to create a backstory for the sudden cleanliness of her desk and her missing samples. In a state of panic though and faced with the obstacle of limited time, Levi had come up with another idea, an idiotic one, completely unbelievable that it had little chance of working.

Levi was desperate though. Although he did have the reflexes on the battlefield to take down an enemy bent on killing him, scrambling to find a cover up story for a very pregnant and very unpredictable Hange Zoe was another story.

At that rate though, Hange must have been as crazy, desperate and idiotic as him a result of the pregnancy hormones and the stress of being in almost total isolation in a smaller part of town with little to no responsilities. Hange came home to see rocks lined up, in the stead of her previous samples, and continued on her mini research as if nothing had changed.  

They were less alarming test subjects at least. Levi had made sure to wash them thoroughly beforehand. They did not stink as much as the plants. And they had at least caught Hange’s interest enough that she did not ask too much about the missing plant samples, having brushed off the white lie of a bird stealing them.

Overtime, Levi eventually realized she never did believe the lie. She was too sharp for that. In fact, the reason she had accepted such a blatant lie in the first place was because the rocks on the table had turned out to be a more interesting subject. The hammers and nails became an ubiquitous part of her work desk. The meticulous side of Levi was also starting to begrudgingly notice the scratches on the table from the scrape of rock on wood.

From a coping mechanism of studying plants and greens, Hange had shifted to studying rocks. And as Levi started to realize over dinner, rocks were an incredibly boring topic, so boring that he almost missed hearing about photosynthesis and the difference of a xylem and a phloem.

Apparently, there were so many different types of rocks and the ones he had randomly picked out in the garden could have been igneous, hinting to the possibility of volcanic or seismic activity around the area. How she had gotten that from a bunch of random rocks, Levi did not know. She started talking about extracting metals from ores. And she had started to name the rocks too apparently: Gabbro, limestone, basalt. Hearing those names echo in his head, only made Levi miss the plants.

He started to particularly miss the plants a little more when the streets started to line with them, and the main square near their place was fitted with a large tree in the center, decorated with lights and bright balls. A surprising addition to his everyday view on the way to the tea shop.

Christmas. He never really did get used to it. A tradition brought from Marley apparently. With Hange's new obsession with rocks, the large tree in the middle of the square seemed almost nostalgic.

"So it looks like the Christmas tree can amaze even the most serious men," A voice said behind him.

The Christmas Tree was placed in the middle of the square where the tea shop was also conveniently located. And from his good view of the Christmas Tree in the middle, Levi was also a good few feet away from the shop. He only had to look behind him to see Mr. Spassky, having a smoke at the entrance.

That thoughtless comment was enough to make Levi look away from the tree faster than he had wanted to. He entered the tea shop with a Mr. Spassky trailing behind and the tea had helped him cope. By that point, he had almost completely forgotten the Christmas Tree in the middle of the square.

Like always, Mr. Spasky would place a cup of black tea and make conversation. “So what did you get her?”

It was Hange who had pointed out years ago that his birthday was on the same day as Christmas day. For Levi, it was a surprise since he had built a habit through the years of never giving days enough importance to analyze them beyond what was available at face value. At that moment, when the shopkeeper noted that Christmas Eve was that night, Levi could only spit out the tea. It was his birthday. It was almost Christmas. And he had spent too much time and energy keeping Hange sane to have even noticed.

Mr. Spassky was a great salesman and a great marketer. Levi at that moment was at the mercy of his complex emotions constantly flitting from the guilt of disposing of Hange’s samples to his overall exhausted state to the state of panic which would stop by for a visit every few hours, when he would ask the question of  what Hange could be doing back home at that exact moment.

If Levi had been any sharper that day, he probably would have figured it out as quickly as he had figured out the food campaigns of King Fritz years ago that Christmas was merely a seasonal marketing campaign to get people to buy more and that new tradition on giving engagement rings was a piece of all year long marketing tactic to keep the jewelry business alive.

At his most vulnerable though, Levi had become prey to those propaganda and the nagging feelings of guilt, only spread through him, getting stronger with every point they made. He and Hange had been living together for more than a year, Hell she was pregnant with their first child already.

And I never bothered to get her an engagement ring or a Christmas present?   For the first time since it opened, Levi was finally starting to see the value and novelty in that quaint jewelry shop next to the tea shop.

As Mr. Spassky guided him through the doors of the jewelry shop, Levi was quick to notice the different rings on display. What caught Levi’s eye in particular was the display case on the side of the room that sold shiny colored metals, similar to a cavern under a church Levi had visited so many years ago. On the walls were pictures and detailed drawings of couples exchanging rings, only highlighting the tradition Levi had noticed among other couples he had witnessed.

Is there really commitment if there’s no ring?

Is it really love if you don’t buy them anything for Christmas?

Every good romance starts with a ring.

Blatant propaganda. Yet strong and relevant enough for Levi to put enough thought into picking out a ring.

The one Levi had picked out was of a minimalist design. The color in particular though was what stood out. At first glance, it looked like a typical gold or yellow. As Levi took a closer look from different angles under a light source, he couldn’t help but notice the way it glowed a bright green and was quick to fall back to a simple yellow. It did it too consistently though that Levi was sure it was not just a trick of the light.

Green Gold. That was what it was called according to the shopkeeper as he held it up to the late much better than what Levi had done. From the different angles, Levi could see the gleam of gold and the tinge of green.

Levi did not need the confirmation of the color to decide to buy it. Maybe it was the characteristic cloak they would wear from so many years ago which made it such an obvious choice. Maybe it was the homesickness that came and went from living and fighting in an almost all green landscape almost their whole lives then being forced to move somewhere within the city that had pushed him to that. Maybe it was a combination of all that, only supplemented by the nostalgia that came with missing Hange’s obsession with trees.

It probably was the fact that the color green had been so ubiquitous the past two decades of his life. Seeing it as a faint yet beautiful glow had awakened emotions of sentimentality for a life he had lived long before.  

As Levi took in the scenery of the urban jungle which they had been living in for the past few years and the stark contrast to the green they had been fighting in for many more years, maybe he did start to understand her obsession with green. In fact, he did realize with his own impulse purchase, he was a tad fixated with the color green too.

He gripped his small gift bag a little tighter as he arrived at the entrance of the apartment they shared.

“Hange, Merry Christmas.” Levi was completely comfortable with Hange and he was completely aware of that. Yet, for that moment he needed to rehearse it, having occupied himself with whether to say Merry Christmas before or after handing her the present.

Hange returned the greeting with her own questioning look, which could have maybe even been judgmental. For some reason, that had made Levi blush. He looked away as soon as he gave it and went straight to the kitchen to cram the Christmas Eve dinner he had forgotten about.

He allowed himself a last look, only to see a smile creep up Hange’s lips as she opened the gift box. Levi found himself smiling in return, even if he knew she wouldn’t notice it with his back to her. It had been weeks since he had seen such excitement in those eyes as she smiled, that same excitement and enthusiasm he had seen as she recounted to him every development in Paradis. As he was cutting the tomatoes for their meal that night, he couldn’t help but think that that smile gave him the same sense of nostalgia as the color green.

Maybe she felt it too?

“It looks like I was right… I knew they’d put titanium here. It shouldn’t be this hard if there wasn’t any.”

Levi placed the newly cooked pasta on their dining table. Hange was on the living room table, with a lamp at full brightness, hunched over like she was working on something. Just like always, Hange was scratching the table below with a new stone

A shiny new stone…. “Is that the gift I bought you?” Levi asked.

“Yeah…”

There must have been a hint of accusation or anger in Levi’s voice. The face Hange had was reminiscent  to what one would see when a dog is caught chewing on something they aren’t supposed to. With the realization that what they had done is wrong, most dogs would usually chew faster. Hange had done the human equivalent, or more specifically, the pregnant Hange equivalent of breaking into it faster.

“It’s a ring Hange. You’re supposed to be wearing it!”

“But is it really important that I wear it? Isn’t it more important that we find out the secrets of how they make this?” It was an argument which could have convinced any other scientist. Levi was far from what could have been a good target audience.  

“Give me that!” Levi found himself wrestling or at least trying to wrestle someone while avoiding the baby bump which was taking up more than 50% of her waistline at that moment.

“It’s your gift to me Levi! To me! Let me use it like I want to!”

Hange made a good point. That good point and the prospect of wrestling someone who was eight months pregnant with his first child was what got Levi surrendering and just sitting on the sofa within minutes just listening to one of her lectures.

Hange once again scratched the sharp side of the already broken ring on the table then bit it, inadvertently causing Levi more pain for multiple reasons. “See, gold wouldn’t make a scratch like this. This is why it isn’t necessarily pure gold despite what’s written here,” Hange explained as she slid the flier closer to him. “ I’m guessing they used titanium here, similar to the metal they used for our blades and the ODM gear. Maybe even copper or iron?

“So it was a fake,” Levi said bitterly. It was the mention of such cheap metals making its way into such a beautiful object with such a unique shine to it. He felt like an idiot for actually believing it was something pure.”

“This is actually a good thing because if they did make something out of pure gold, it would scratch pretty fast. In fact, the other metals make it so that it lasts longer.”

“That was supposed to be a Christmas Gift,” Levi said, completely ignoring Hange’s explanation.

“It was a great Christmas gift. I’ve never seen this shade of gold in my life.” Hange said.

“Yeah, it was supposed to be an engagement gift too.” Levi managed to add before the blood rushed through his face, leaving him unable to speak for a few seconds.

“Engagement?”

“Mr. Spassky said that most people give a ring to someone when they want to spend the rest of their lives with them.” Levi did not know how he had managed to get that out.

“And you’re falling for that propaganda now? Levi, we’ve been living together for the past two years. We’ve done things. I’m pregnant with our first kid. We don’t need a piece of metal to prove anything.”

At that moment, Levi remembered his own mother who had raised him. She’s done things. She was pregnant with someone’s kid. Yet he had never met his father.

Then what do we have to prove it? Levi didn’t need to ask her. He felt it in how quickly the exasperation of a minute ago gradually morphed into a playful feeling that tickled his chest and the sudden urge to grab her from behind and feel her tummy. He felt it a second later as she put her hands on his and gripped his hands a little tighter. Just the way he had wanted it.

Hange lay back down on the sofa next to him and gave him one of the softest smiles. She started to yawn and lay her head on his. She had fallen asleep next to him multiple times before. At that moment, he appreciated it a little more. As battle hardened soldiers, they would have only ever fallen asleep next to someone they completely trusted. Then and there, pregnant and tired, Hange was at her most vulnerable.

Then what do we have to prove it? The fact that they knew each other inside and out. The commitment to make it work. Their trust in the other to do the same.

At that moment, they were both at their most vulnerable.

“Now that I think about it... I haven’t been able to buy you a birthday christmas present,” Hange said, her voice only getting softer as she buried her face into his shoulder. “Maybe if you let me go shopping downtown I would.”

“You know what would be the best Christmas birthday gift? You not accidentally killing our kid.”

[vivithefolle]

I know you love Ron, and I do too, but it’s probably time to stop pretending he was right in the camp fight with Harry. He was being influenced by the horcrux and that’s why he picked the fight with Harry, and he was being extremely tactless saying, “Both of your parents are away safe,” which is why Harry yelled that his parents were dead. You seem to forget that as well as the fact that Ron had the horcrux on and that’s why he acted that way

As if Harry was tactful saying “oh you thought we’d be staying in five star hotels, you thought you’d be home to Mummy by Christmas” (mocking and belittling Ron’s discomfort, making it look like Ron is complaining about trivial things when HE HAD A QUARTER OF HIS ARM RIPPED OFF AND WAS IN NEED OF MEDICAL CARE), trying to goad Ron into leaving and essentially pressing all his buttons so he can push him away...

“It’s all right for you, isn’t it, with your parents safely out of the way— “

It’s true. It’s bloody true. Harry has nothing to lose. Ron has everything to lose. Each day spent not destroying the Horcrux is another day where the Weasleys could die.

Harry may try to pretend everything’s fine but -

“Didn’t you hear what they said about my sister? But you don’t give a rat’s fart, do you, it’s only the Forbidden Forest, Harry I’ve-Faced-Worse Potter doesn’t care what happened to her in there—well, I do, all right, giant spiders and mental stuff—”

Let’s add that Ginny is for all intents and purposes held hostage.

You see, if Rowling wasn’t so bad at writing war, she’d make it clear that Ginny is currently staying at Hogwarts, the Death Eater’s shiny new fortress in which all Pureblood kids are currently trapped.

All Pureblood children are stuck at a school manned by Death Eaters. They’re here as leverage. If one Pureblood parent is caught putting a toe out of line... the Death Eaters then have an excuse to say “well, this family betrayed the government and fled the country, so we’ll kill their child. Let this be an example to all those who want to betray our order.”

Ron doesn’t need the Horcrux to care about his sister’s life, what the fuck. Sure the Horcrux was mentally torturing Ron, but that was just one of the many factors that led Ron to leave.

Another factor was Harry pushing Ron away because Harry’s an asshole like that and among other factors we also have Ron’s injury, Ron’s worry for his family, Ron needing medical care, the lack of progress that as I’ve said meant that Ron’s family was only getting in more and more danger...

Harry doesn’t have the luxury to go say “hurr durr but Dumbledore” this time, because this time it’s on HIM if people die! This time Harry NEEDS to step up and really get shit done because lives are at stake! And this is what Ron does during this conversation - he reminds Harry that this isn’t just about him anymore!

“Well, sorry to let you down,” said Harry, his voice quite calm even though he felt hollow, inadequate. “I’ve been straight with you from the start. I told you everything Dumbledore told me. And in the case you haven’t noticed, we’ve found one Horcrux —”

DUMBLEDORE DIDN’T TELL YOU TO GO CAMPING!! YOU CAN PLAINLY SEE THAT THIS ISN’T WORKING YOU GODDAMN DUMBASS!!! THERE NEEDS TO BE A CHANGE OF PLAN! WHEN SOMETHING DOESN’T WORK, YOU DON’T KEEP DOING IT!

The definition of insanity is repeating the same mistakes over and over again and expecting different results - whoever

There needed to be a change of plans.

There needed to be something different.

And Ron took the initiative - helped by the fact that Harry was being a selfish fuck who pushed him away again and again - and, wonder of wonders, guess who ends up destroying the Horcrux!

Ron would probably always have had the fight with Harry. Because Harry was careless and stupid, and needed to realize that it wasn’t just about him.

Rowling being Rowling, she made sure that the fight was full of TEH DRAMA because she can’t get enough of big grand gestures like that. But had we had another author who actually realized that the war wasn’t about Harry, I expect that we would have had a much more serious argument and probably a lot less people who act as though only Harry ever suffered in the war.

So. Yeah. I love Ron. I adore him in fact. And I fucking despise Harry for trying to have a suffering contest with Ron when so much more was at stake.

[fluffykitty1999-blog]

Dog of the Military- Chapter 27

Chapter 27- Operative One- Captured

"Roy Mustang here." he'd stayed late at the office today, pretending to do paperwork. But really, he'd been expecting this call.

"Roy. It's your favorite Aunt."

"You are my only Aunt, Auntie." Roy couldn't keep himself from smiling.

"Well an old friend of yours has stopped by my bar-"

In the background, Roy heard girls shrill voices, and a command barked in a strange tongue, followed by the sounds of flesh striking flesh.

"He simply couldn't wait to see you, so I figured I'd give you a call."

"Of course." Roy slid his gloves into his pocket, smirking. "I'll be there soon.".

The bar was deserted, and Roy strode in, looking around. Vanessa came down the stairs- the side of her face was starting to swell, and she was going to have one heck of a black eye.

"Ness?" he asked, looking her over critically.

"It's fine." she brushed him off happily, giving him a wining smile.. "He got one good shot in, but then the other girls all stormed the room. He's upstairs with your Aunt and them all right now."

"Is anybody else hurt?"

"Andrea had a bloody nose, but it's not bad. Who is this guy, anyways?"

"Foreign intelligence. He's a Drachman agent- and he may have tried to take Edward."

"Edward? That's the little alchemist, right? The one who's just a kid?"

Roy couldn't help the smile that tugged the corner of his lips. "Yeah. That's him. But don't call him small."

"Right. Come get this bastard, then." Vanessa grabbed his hand, pulling him up the stairs. Her purple skirt fluttered behind her, but Roy focused straight ahead, swallowing. Now wasn't a time to remember old memories- now was a time to focus on the task at hand.

Vanessa led him down the hallway, opening the heavy oak door to her room.

The folding bed had been folded back up into the bureau, giving them much more room. Andrea held a bloody handkerchief to her nose, brown eyes staring daggers at the center of the room, though the blonde smiled at Roy. Tracy stood in the corner, arms crossed, surveying the scene with the calm coal dark eyes of the Xinganese woman she was.

And Rachel, the green eyes brunette, stood shouting at the man, who was currently hogtied to a wooden chair in the middle of the room, struggling furiously against his bonds.

Madame Christmas sat in a chair of her own- she was in her black bodice and skirt as usual, not a purple feather out of place on her black hat. The only thing that gave her away as the 'master' of the room was the revolver she held in her white gloved hand. She smiled when Roy entered the room.

"So nice of you to drop by, Roy. Is this the man?"

Roy looked over. The man had long, greasy brown hair that fell to his shoulders. His eyes were silver. He wore a rough brown coat and black slacks, and he stared at Roy with a look of hatred on his face.

"Not exactly the one, but I'm sure he knows what I'm looking for."

"Ya tebe nichego ne skazhu!" the man spat furiously, struggling further against his bonds.

Roy cocked an eyebrow- he was definitely speaking Drachman.

"Do you speak any Amestrian at all?"

"Filthy amestrian dog!" the man cried, trying to kick out at Roy but failing.

Roy stepped forward and slammed his fist into the man's eye. The man's head snapped to the side, before he was glaring at Roy again, panting from his frantic struggles and looking at him with animosity.

"Now we're getting somewhere." Roy smirked, tilting the man's head back.

"Who sent you?"

"I tell you nothing, dog!" the man was back to snarling and struggling against his bonds.

Roy backhanded the man.

"What do you want with the Fullmetal Alchemist!?"

The man was still when he mentioned Edward, and his eyes widened a fraction.

"Ah, so you do know something then. Your mission- what does it have to do with the Fullmetal Alchemist?"

"I... I tell nothing!" the man said simply.

"Alright. So you don't want to talk about the mission. Do you know who I am?"

"Amestrian Dog." the man spat.

Roy pulled his gloves from his pocket and slid one on. He watched as the man saw the array on the back of his gloves- how the man's eyes widened slightly, his nostrils flaring as his pulse quickened, and Roy knew the man recognized it now. He smirked.

"I'll ask once again- do you know who I am?"

The man hesitated for a split second. "Flame."

Roy nodded cheerily, pulling on his other glove. "Yes. I am the Flame Alchemist. Commanding officer of the Fullmetal Alchemist. Who are you?"

The man shook his head. "I tell nothing."

"His name is Alessi, Roy." Vanessa spoke up.

Roy looked up from his interrogation, realizing he wasn't alone in the room with the man.

"Right. Alessi. Well, ladies, I'm going to have to ask that you give me some time alone to converse with my dear friend Alessi."

"Of course, Roy." Vanessa batted her eyes at him and headed for the door, the other three girls and his aunt filing out behind them.

The Drachman looked up from his chair, pupils dilating in fear as he realized he was going to be alone with Roy. He swallowed. The heavy oak door fell closed behind them.

"How many other agents are there, Alessi?"

"We are many. You won't stop us!"

"Won't stop you from what? What is your mission here, Alessi?"

Alessi fell silent, glaring at Roy in defiance.

Roy smirked. "Have it your way, then."

He snapped his fingers.

LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK

It was three hours later Roy delivered a very singed Drachman Operative to the Investigations branch. He knew Hughes would be staying late anyways, but still, his best friend looked slightly pissed at him.

"You didn't think to let me come with while you interrogated this guy?" he asked, looking miffed.

"He wouldn't talk much anyways, Hughes. Doesn't speak much Amestrian. He only reacted to the basics- his mission has something to do with Fullmetal and Banks. There's more than one operative. That's all we had before."

"We have linguistics in investigations. I could've gotten a translator in, tried to cut a deal." Hughes said, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Who's to say you can't do that tomorrow?"

Hughes sighed, looking up at him tiredly. "You're impossible sometimes, you know that?"

Roy shrugged, grabbing a chair and pulling it up to the other side of Hughe's desk, looking at the evidence bags carefully. "So- what do you have?"

He was caught off guard when His friend reached over and plucked a hair from his head with tweezers.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry. I need a sample. Ah, it's what I thought." Hughes smirked, inspecting the hair under a magnifying glass beneath his desk lamp. "Your hair is the same color, but far too straight. And too short"

"Too straight for what?"

"I found a black hair in Ed's room, on the floor. It was curly- yours is too straight. I managed to interview Ed earlier- he said the man who grabbed him had long curly black hair and silver eyes. And his blood type is B-. We're building quite the profile here. I'm hoping with a translator present we can get Alessi to at least rat on one of his buddies."

"Good luck with that." Roy said simply, flexing his hand. He'd jammed one of his fingers punching the man in the face.

Hughes frowned. "Ed mentioned something about not wanting to sleep at the hospital."

"I know that. He fought me tooth and nail too."

"I heard him talking to Alphonse when I stepped out to get coffee. He said he has a hard time sleeping with you're not there."

"He has Armstrong on protection detail tonight. He'll be safe."

"You and I both know that's not what he meant. He thinks of you as a father. He feels safe when you're nearby. You're really going to brush that off for an investigation?"

"You think I'm neglecting him!?" Roy snapped. "You think I'm neglecting the boy I put my career on the line for to bring into the military? You think I'm neglecting the kid I went to bat for in court? You think I'm neglecting him because I haven't had any proper sleep in days because I'm trying to keep him safe from all the people who want him dead!?" Roy slammed both hands on the table and stood, eyes smouldering.

"Whoah. Let's take a step back for a minute." Hughes held both hands up, trying to placate him. "I just... that's not what I meant." Hughes frowned. "I just... I just meant that it's really special that Ed feels safe around you. And that he thinks of you as a father. That's all I meant. I'm sorry if it came out any other way. Sometimes I forget- Ed isn't like Elicia. He's military."

"Yeah, he is." Roy ran a hand through his hair, sighing heavily as he sat down. "So he's gonna have to sleep alone in the hospital tonight. I know he'd rather have me stay there, but he's safe with Armstrong, and the sooner I solve the Drachman problem, the sooner he's safe. Once he's out of the line of fire I can spend more time with him. I can probably get a few hours of shut eye in my office on the couch..."

"You're not going home?" Hughes asked, looking surprised.

"What's the point? It's pretty empty without the boys there."

"Whoa." Hughes looked blown away.

"What?" Roy cocked an eyebrow at his friend.

Hughes took off his glasses and started to clean them with his handkerchief, breaking ino a grin. "Nothing- I just... never heard you sound so much like a dad before. It's.. different. But it's good. I'm glad for you." Hughe's glasses reflected the light for a moment as he slid them back onto his face, giving him a wane smile.

"But this case isn't going to blow wide open over night. Go home and get some sleep- I'll call you as soon as I get a translator in to speak to Alessi."

"What if I missed something?" Roy eyed the investigation files.

"If you missed it then I'll find it. I've gotten more sleep than you have over these past few days- goodnight, Roy."

Roy sighed, standing and heading for the door. "Goodnight."

Do you appreciate these fics? If so, I’d super appreciate if you can follow me here https://ko-fi.com/fluffykitty12 .

[statichvm]

multiples of.... 4 for whoever you're feeling most 👀

apparently it’s world rat day

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

No, not at all. Dwight was part of the group of dumbasses that Julie happened to stumble upon while she was first in Virginia. His gun was out of ammo, and the only other loaded weapon his group had was a pistol one of the others had dropped... that was... currently being trampled by a group of dead trying to claw their way up the truck they were standing on top of. It wasn’t a good look for them, and honestly Julie saw him (and the rest of his group) as an easy mark to grab some food and water off of. They clearly had some kind of home base, so she assisted in getting them out of trouble. His first impression of her was that she was... a feral woman who spawned out of the woods, albeit at a good time for him. His opinion of her was good enough to bring her back to the Sanctuary though, if not just to replace the man they lost in the scuffle.

8.) - What do the like best about their partner?

It feels pretty fucking ridiculous to type, but Julie loves how gentle he is with her. That’s not to say he’s a gentle man, but there’s something different about the way that he touches her versus the way (for a while, anyways) he approaches literally anything or anyone else. As they settle into their new lives post-Saviors, he does begin to soften towards more people, but there’s always a very specific gentleness he keeps reserved just for her.

On the other hand, Dwight admires Julie’s fierceness. It’s not her brutality or in any physical sense, but the way that she doesn’t allow anyone or anything to dim her fire. She knows who she is and what she’s worth, and it’s not something that she’s willing to compromise for anyone or anything. She’s never afraid to make her opinions known or to stand up for herself, even in situations where it may be easier for her to just stay quiet and stay down.

12.) - Is there a wedding? What was the proposal like? Any kind of honeymoon?

They actually do get married! It’s a very... rustic event at the Springs Camp. The trees were decorated with half broken Christmas lights someone had stashed in a camper since the beginning, and it was definitely a whole camp kinda ordeal, save for the people who had to work the walls. Julie got too drunk and fell off a picnic table after hopping up to dance. Ana had to stitch up a little cut on her forehead in the middle of the “reception” after being a few drinks in herself. 10/10 would do it again.

The proposal itself happened outside of camp at one of the spots Julie had taken to visiting when she was out on runs, out by a tiny waterfall. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for them to stop by that spot while they were out, so she didn’t see it coming at all. He didn’t actually have a ring when he decided to propose (though they found one by the time they actually got married) so he just kinda... did it empty handed and hoped she’d say yes anyways.

No honeymoon to speak of, unless you count the fact that they both got two whole days off after the wedding. Luxury... decadence...

16.) - Do they keep secrets? Lie? Cheat?

Oh yeah. Even with all his ‘subtle’ urging for her to walk away from Negan and the Saviors, Juliana genuinely had no clue that he’d double crossed them and was feeding information to Rick’s group until she actually saw him shooting at their people herself. It was... one of the most painful blows she’d ever taken in her entire life, but even after she makes it back to the Sanctuary, she makes the decision to not sell him out. She does hold a gun to him and more or less tell him to stay away from her or she will tell Negan when he shows up in her room after managing to make it back as a double agent, but she never actually does. Honestly, she’s not entirely sure if she could’ve.

Another secret is just the way they felt about each other. For all intents and purposes, they were friends at the Sanctuary. But after Sherry took off and things were ramping up, feelings definitely started to get mixed up and blurry, and by the time Julie agrees to help him go after Sherry, it... definitely was not something she should’ve agreed to if she honestly took her feelings into account at all. She assumed this was all one sided, which... he was also assuming the same thing. She’s helping him look for his wife, so there can’t be anything there, right? And of course his own confused feelings were just... the adrenaline from the war, and then being stuck with her every day for months, right?

20.) - What does their home look like? Their room?

They’ve lived in two different cabins since they got to the Springs. The first one was a tiny one room deal that basically had a bunk bed (yes Julie was top bunk), a desk, and a chair. It was a pretty cramped situation, and honestly was smaller than one of their rooms back at the Sanctuary, but the bigger cabins were reserved for families. When Julie gets pregnant with Jackson, they’re finally able to move into one of the bigger cabins (which... Bo comes pretty soon after, so they needed the room..). The settlement is actually based off a real campground in the real national park, so have an actual floor plan of their second place:

24.) - Any doubts about the relationship?

A million before they’re actually together. I touched on it a bit above, but they had a serious case of “haha of course... i am not in love... with my buddy... my pal...” and it takes approximately a million years for them to sort their shit out. Their romantic relationship more or less started on a trip looking for his runaway wife, so obviously there’s some confusion there just from that. I threw most of his FTWD arc out the window, but I am keeping the bit where he finds a letter from his wife that tells him to stop looking for her and to find “something to live for” instead. That really serves as a catalyst for him to start looking at his feelings for Julie as what they are instead of pushing them down and ignoring them. Once they’re actually together though? Nah. As soon as the cards are on the table, they’re both committed and sure.

28.) - What are their vacations like?

They’ve literally never gotten a real vacation, unless you count the times that neither of them happen to be pulling security shifts or going outside of camp that day. In no outbreak, they like to pull together all of like... twenty bucks they have to their name and go on little “road trips” to cities or towns neither of them have seen before.

32.) - Do they ever get into trouble? Is it serious, or are they just mischievous?

When they were both Saviors, they were, to put it lightly, fucking assholes. No matter what justifications they had for their actions, they were robbing and murdering people for their own selfish interests. Both of them managed to piss off people to the point of multiple people trying to actively kill them, so yeah they absolutely managed to get into some serious shit. Nowadays, they’re both actively trying to be better people and put that behind them. Julie’s not opposed to pranking people around camp, though. :(

36.) - What’s their greatest strength as a couple? Their weakness?

Answered here!

40.) - Any special memories? Do they have a special place they like to go to?

I briefly mentioned it above when I was talking about the proposal, but they have a lot of little getaway spots they both frequent when they’re outside camp walls. They’re living in a national park that’s... absolutely fucking stunning, even with the literal zombie apocalypse raging around them, and Julie especially likes to explore and find new spots. She often laments not having a camera to photograph some of the landscape, but she does have a map of the park that she marks up with her favorite spots so they can go back together. His memory is a problem, so he eventually starts to do the same.

44.) - Are the comfortable with each other? Anything they have to have their privacy for?

Answered here!

[beaflower77]

An Atmosphere Of Sorrow

“I’ll be back soon. I promise,” he insisted, “I have to investigate the fit and finish issue they stuck me with at the Assembly Plant. These damn build issues are a nuisance.” And he walked out, forgetting behind the black tattered briefcase he always carried. He kissed her lightly. She frowned. She had no choice but to let him go to work, and her back to that house. She sulked. 

Her mood being dark and uneasy, Dove crossed her arms, huddled herself further into her thick blue sweater and began dubiously walking back toward the front door. The harvest air was getting increasingly crisper each day, and her faculties more scattered. As he backed the old ‘72 Pinto down the gravel drive, the muffler backfired. Black smoke puffed behind. She hoped it wouldn’t burst into flames as old cars did, it seemed to be an impressively sturdy old car. For its age. 

“I wish you wouldn’t keep pouring money into that old crapper of a car,” she said against the chilly air. “One day Franklin,” she threatened the wind, “You’re going to find all those parts fallen off that rust bucket and lay scattered on the drive come morning. And no car for us to drive. Or blown up and burnt to a crisp.” Slowly Dove procrastinated walking back, stopping to smell the remaining magnolia on her way. Outside it was crisp, but still pleasant. Outside. 

Furnace had gone off. Again. She was lightly bundled in a tee, another shirt and sweater on top of that. House was still cold. Squinting at the out of date thermostat in the hall, Dove suspiciously tapped several times hoping to make the little red arrow move in a more positive direction toward 72. Today, maybe 82. No such luck. The thermostat still registered 58, and it wasn’t gonna budge. Sighing against nothing and feeling downcast Dove decided to check her luck with the furnace downstairs. It was the third time this week the power had gone out.

Tossing her slippers aside, pulling on last years christmas combat boots which Franklin had gifted her, Dove tromped loudly down, pulling against the chain attached to a bulb for some illumination. “Oh, that’s right. How quickly I forget. There’s nothing,” she said annoyingly. Forgetting the power outage, she fumbled through the dark, fiddling round to locate the flashlight. Her fingers finally found it. Clicking it on, looking around, she saw nothing out of place. However, sensing a shadow from her peripheral vision, Dove froze. She felt a fluttering of tight sensations inside her chest. Her skin prickled. With chest pounding, throat tightening, Dove’s psyche shrank. It was so much colder down here she noticed. Slowly turning her head, staring long into the dim, was a figure. A slim male figure standing against the bricked basement wall and dirt packed floor. Battered old brown hat on his head, waistcoat buttoned nicely, tan suit, hands by his side never moving. But his eyes, his eyes were sharp. And they stared directly back at Dove. Opening her mouth, Dove could taste the staleness of the basement’s air, she also knew she was breathing it in, and just knowing that made her chest constrict more rise and fall in rapid silence. The man continued to stare, she continued to stare. Too frightened to move, Dove almost forgot to breathe, and parts of her reasoning went out the window. 

Coming to terms there was truly something there, or rather someone, Dove’s gut clenched, and trying very hard not to embrace this realistic idea, Dove tried concentrating only on her breathing and forced her legs to move past his image, the scattered boxes, the washer, and look for the correct heating pipes on the ceiling. Making light of a squeamish situation, Dove insisted, “I don’t think you’re there.” And she exhaled just a bit while trying to calm down. Perhaps this was just a trick of the eye to convince herself it was from lack of sleep. A very large lack of sleep. Her breathing didn’t get any better, but her eyes felt so horribly heavy and tired and sore. She rubbed them. It didn’t help. “I really don’t like this house. I hate this house. I hate it here,” Dove grumbled. “Where is the stupid furnace?” She sense the apparition still there watching, “Don’t look at me!”, she forced out, not too convincingly. A headache began. And a frightening, horrid idea came to her mind. What if it were actually real? 

As Dove walked past, she considered was she just visualizing something that really wasn’t there, or was it actually real? Perhaps it was time for her annual eye exam. No, she had one just last year. Truly it was not easy to tell the difference anymore Dove thought, as her stomach lurched and her throat’s saliva dried. Feeling queasy and nauseous she put her hand to her abdomen. The smell was thick and swollen, it was enormous and it lingered. It smelt putrid, like rotted eggs broken and left sitting too long on a stove overnight, or maybe even a year. “Oh, my god,” Dove whined. “It stinks down here.” And lifting her tee, Dove covered her mouth and nose. “I’m going to tell Franklin there are dead rats down here. It’s his family’s house, he can look for their dead bodies. Not me.” 

Next she looked, which Dove had claimed she wouldn’t, the old man was still there. He watched. This time his mouth turned a slight smile. She turned quickly away, “I’m not talking to you,” Dove mumbled lowly, “I’m not looking at you either. You don’t exist. Just don’t be there, go away,” and she refused to look in the spectre’s direct path again. Just thinking this was all too real made Dove sick. Going about her business, finding the furnace, rattling the large overhead pipes into life or heat, nothing happened. Avoiding looking at the back wall, tromping back upstairs, Dove decided on a different tactic. Sleep. That usually solved all the world’s problems. 

Still his eyes followed. Still his smile remained. And Dove’s feelings of the macabre and fear increased and doubled with each creak the basement steps made against her weight. She turned her flashlight off. She wanted to heave. 

Heading back into the kitchen, Dove tossed aside her boots in lieu of warm slippers and checked the electricity again. Instead of flipping the light switch, she stuck the power cord of the toaster into the socket. All she received back was a phfist and a puff of black smoke. “Eww”, Dove said sourly. “Wonderful. Thanks a bunch. All I wanted was a piece of toast. Dumb toaster.” She pulled on the cord and a little blue zip of lightning came from the socket. “Ouch!” as she yanked her fingers back wrapping them protectively with her other hand. She grabbed a bag of chips and a half eaten donut left on the counter instead. Taking out the last of the juice from the warm fridge, Dove could now confirm the electricity was definitely out. Fridge warm, no light inside either. Complaining as she walked towards the bedroom, “Yeah thanks electric company for turning everything off. Again.” Yet for all her whining, Dove felt enormously better up here, than down there. 

Still things continued to plague her senses. But at least, the smell had lessoned. 

That blue electric zip should not have been there without electricity, Dove thought, but she didn’t let this fact invade her brain, for to do so was admitting defeat, admitting something screwy was happening in the house. Or with her sense of normality. This house, for all its newer additions and older rooms, with the old pully windows and creaky floor boards was unsettling, sad and distressful at best. Each time Dove walked into the foyer the sadness, the gloom hit her like a pile of bricks. Each room entertaining its own depth of sorrow, its own magnitude of heartache and woe, made such a dent in her emotional heartache sometimes causing her to tear and cry for no particular reason anymore. 

She sensed shadows of loss, of tears, tossed away dreams of love. And the regret, despair and gloominess enveloped her more each day. “Such a horrific combination. So dismal, so mournful,” Dove caressed the void and a sorrow unlike any she had known enclosed around her. “I feel so, so dreary and miserable, yet there’s nothing truly wrong or empty in my life, I just..” However during the lonely, desolate days she would roam, roam the halls, the half dusted, half empty rooms, feeling abandoned, nostalgic and soppy. “I wondered who lived here before. Or what they did, what words they used. How they lived, how they .. died. It’s just .. creepy here sometimes. It’s too overwhelming and disappointing.” Such despair and anguish was almost completely unbearable for Dove to fathom each day. 

Looking around, wandering each room, touching a doorframe here, stair banister there, looking over the intricate cornucopia of ceiling designs and motifs above, she tried not letting her emotions pool around her as her sweater did. Returning down to the kitchen sink, sticking her burnt fingers again under a cool stream of faucet water, “At least the water is still on.” When looking out the kitchen window, Dove couldn’t see any other house across the gravel drive. Was it just this house, this area? Did any other house have power outages as well, and as often? She decided it was too cold to walk down the drive and look. But then looking twice, Dove thought she saw a flicker. A flicker of something, or someone moved past the kitchen window. Pulling quickly back, eyes wide, a panic intruded her mind. Dove escaped to her upstairs bedroom and decided to isolate herself. Her mind which often played tricks here went with her, and stayed there till late afternoon.

When Franklin returned with a large order of take out, thoughts of a basement man, flickering images and her sad, despondent lingering thoughts had long left. Having her mouth load up on Chinese lobster with rice had not only filled her stomach but her heart as well with a well stocked amount of peace she hadn’t realized she had missed since morning. A steamy conversation took the place of uncomfortable feelings that night. 

But the next day arrived too soon.

By the morning the heat was back. “Hey, furnace is back,” Franklin sang out from a too hot shower. 

Dove was still under the heated mess of covers. “Hmm,” she sighed. She breathed in deeply, stretched, and rolled right back over. Hopefully they could go out tonight, at least that was her anticipated plan. Today she was not going to let any shadows intrude. Dove had work to do, and she had no plans to plunge into that basement again. But as she rolled over, she wondered, could Franklin sense these feelings, these shadows and imaginings, or was it just her? Probably not. Maybe she imagined. No, not. And fearing to ask, Dove would only hear in return, “It’s just your imagination”, or “You’re just tired, You’re working too hard.” “Perhaps it is just too real,” she might say back. Her eyes closed and sleep drew her back for more dreams. 

“I should be back early tonight,” Franklin whispered, kissing her lightly before walking out the door. “We’ll go out tonight, if you’d like,” came his suggestion. Dove smiled. The car backfired. And nothing was what Dove heard, deep in Rem sleep for once. Fragrant, slow steamy coffee with hot toast and jam filled her dreams. All reminders of the ethereal were long forgotten. For now. 

A solo steamy shower over, Dove vigorously rubbed her body, and proceeded with launching her wet hair down in front of her curled body and frisked it back and forth saying to no one in particular, “I’ve got lots to do today. No time for nonsense or nothing. Today we’re going to crack those eggs and get moving!” And a frisky, happy tone toward work began. She hummed along to her playlist. 

Straightening back up, flipping her damp hair over, something stood out from the corner of her eye. She spun! She started! Dove froze! Someone was standing there! Dove saw someone standing right there, in front of her! Right next to her, and she could see it clearly reflecting back in the mirror. “Ahh!,” backing up too suddenly, clinching, grabbing at her towel. Dove’s heart lurched, she felt it double thump loudly and even stop. Her breathe came rapidly, and a tiny dribble of urine escape down her leg. Dove almost fell into the toilet. The vision was gone rapidly.

The electricity had gone out again. The electric clocks blinked on and off. The sky outside cloudy, revealing hardly any sun made the bathroom gray and dismal. This was the third time in a week. And more than enough times to be caught off guard.

As Dove started freaking out, she went about gathering her clothes, flinging them on and called Franklin on her cell. As he stated answering her call, “Davenport here”,  heavy machinery noise collided with delicate cell coverage. He put a finger in his ear. 

“I can’t!” she claimed. “I can’t do this anymore! Franklin! Franklin, please come home! I want to go home! I don’t want to be here anymore!” Dove was emphatically blunt and direct. 

“Do what?!” he questioned, not hearing her clear enough. “Dove? What’s the matter? Where are you? What’s going on?!” As too much noise drowned Dove’s pleas and pain out, “Wait! Let me move out of here. Hang on!” And he walked away from the noise. “Turn off those cylinders! Make sure you leave those plugs on,” Franklin announced as he backed out of the plants’ all too clamorous building. “Ok Dove, what’s the problem?” He sincerely wanted to understand, for he too had noticed eerie things happening. He needed clarity, a definition of understanding, and of course she was there all day alone. 

As she waited for him to move, Dove rammed herself onto their bed and stuffed her body on top of the covers while trying to keep her head together. Her heart raced as she looked around, promising no more frightening shadows were in sight. Or listening to her conversation. “Franklin,” she tried first appealing to his intellect, “I don’t want to be in this house any longer. It’s uncomfortable.” When that approach didn’t get an immediate response, “Franklin,” Dove continued more forcefully, “It’s looking at me. The house is looking at me. It’s watching me,” she pleaded. “There are shadows, things, noises! I can’t stand it! I see them everywhere, I don’t like it, I don’t like it here.” 

“Dove,” was all he could strangle out. 

“No. No Franklin. If I stay another minute in this house, I will go mad.” She let that tidbit sink in. The phone connection was silent. “Franklin? Frank?”

Franklin went silent. “Dove, it’s just a house,” he tried convincing her. But he knew, he knew she also knew. He had sensed something creepy as well, just didn’t think he’d noticed it, maybe didn’t want to acknowledge it, but yeah, something wrong was going on. Something was wrong with that blasted house. He had promised his Uncle they would fix up. That was the plan. Fix it up as a favor, sell it, split the proceeds 80/20 for a better place. That made Dove happy originally knowing then they could afford the little place they had dreamed of last year. That was the plan. It was a good plan. It was.

“No!” Dove repeated firmly. “It’s not just a house! It’s, it’s everything, it’s everywhere! Franklin! This house, it watches me, everywhere! In the basement, in the kitchen! Franklin, in the god damn shower!” That got his attention. That was as close to creepy as it would get for Franklin. As much as Dove was concentrating on the phone, she also scanned the room. “No more. I can’t do this anymore. It’s creepy here, something’s wrong here. This place is not right.  It’s beginning to get like a shi  .“

“I’ll come home. It’s okay,” he cut her off. “Give me a couple hours to sort things out here. I’ll be home. We’ll talk. It’ll be okay.” Promising and calming Dove, getting her to subside a bit, Franklin ended the call, closed his eyes, breathed in heavily, finally admitting the house, that house was indeed a problem. A huge freaking problem. A problem he had to deal with, just like everything else right now he had to deal with. Making more calls, signing off on orders, rearranging and arguing with production managers, Franklin made it clear he was going home for the day. Early. To deal with that house. Maybe not. He would check Dove’s current mood, talk with her, then make a decision. Filled with fear of making a dreadful mistake, Franklin waffled. Still he had to go home, to that blasted mess of a house.

Dealings of that day dealt with, Franklin and Dove settled into a calmer, steadier albeit slightly downcast mood. Franklin took the rest of the week off, and both arranged themselves into a swift routine of mutual breakfasts, restoring and refinishing older sections of the house, and carry out for dinners. Still with menacing and threatening shadows lurking around corners, a much needed quieter unity now settled over the place, and both Dove and Franklin as well. 

It didn’t last long enough. The electricity went out again. Too often it seemed.

“Franklin, turn the heat up! It’s freezing in here!” Dove yelled from the kitchen.

“Heat’s off again!” he yelled back. “Grab a sweater! Get one for me too, would ‘ya!”

Hammering away on loose boards against a tight stairway, Franklin reached behind him for the remaining nails. Should he use the flooring nails, or the cut nails? Instead, he just reached for whatever was behind him, and as he did, so too did the icy hand which reached out to touch his. Feeling the instant frostiness, instinctively knowing it couldn’t be Dove’s, Franklin yanked his hand away, while alarmingly pivoting his head. As he did so, his balance was so severely lost and Franklin spiraled and tumbled down the cracked stairs to land with a thud! The crash was heard five miles away. His hip, elbow and side leg was going to pain him for an entire week or three. And he tried to right himself  while unclenching his jaw. “Oh, what the hell, for crap’s sake was that about?” he groaned. His movements slowed, and his vision spun and blurred.

“Franklin?!” yelled Dove from the kitchen. She ran, spilling the coffee off the counter. And slipped. Or rather was pushed. Gently of course. “Ugh. Son of a ...,” Dove began. Then remembering, “Franklin?!” Slowly she turned, picking herself up and wiped her wet coffee stained palms down her jeans.

“I’m okay,” he guessed dazed, simply too stunned to think of anything else to say, and looked up the stairs. A shadow drifted off. He thought he saw a shadow drift off. Between witnessing himself move off the ground, cradling his hands, and gazing toward the top of the stairs, “I guess I’m ok,” he reiterated. Looking at her soiled, wet pants, “What happened to you?” he asked

“I fell.” 

Franklin could only look on in befuddlement, with a slight dawning of dread.

Looking him over, “Now do you believe me?” Dove asked for confirmation. She wrapped her wet blue sweater closer. “Franklin?” He continued to look up the stairs. “It’s this house Franklin. It’s something here. Here. I feel so, so..” Dove could not continue her strange thought, only to relay to the cool, dispassionate air, “So much sorrow. So much loss and regret. I felt that I breathed an atmosphere of sorrow.” Franklin stopped his upward gaze and simply stared at her aghast. An atmosphere of sorrow? He tried fathoming what she was talking about. Dove continued to stand and stare into nothingness. Franklin continued to stare at Dove. 

He felt somewhat, perhaps all was already lost. His thoughts now had turned into a confirmation of sorts. This was not the Dove he knew and loved. His Dove was strong, bold and independent. This Dove was becoming frail, skittish and scared. Her thoughts were turning inward lately, while trying to retain some control over her life, her mind. But her sorrow, yes her sorrow was akin to breathing in an atmosphere of sorrow. Franklin tried rescuing her. 

Making light of the situation, “Yeah, yeah,” Franklin admitted explaining. “Something touched me.” His speaking aloud made Dove to suddenly turn toward him snapping out of her own dismal thoughts. He continued, “It was something icy cold but I knew it wasn’t you. I guess I just freaked and moved too fast, and fell. I, I don’t know.” He rubbed his neck and back of his head for soreness. His leg hurt the most, a lump was forming. But he knew otherwise. It was definitely the house or whatever remained of its’ previously previous owners. Or something to that effect. He couldn’t sort it out. Didn’t want to. A feeling of direness overcame him, and again Franklin changed the subject, grabbing Dove’s hand. “Let’s eat. Indian? Italian? What do you feel like? You like sushi right? Let’s get that. I’ll order your favs, you get changed. It’ll be here in no time.” 

He was too afraid to ask how she fell.

Another day, another night. More shadows, More noises, more of the same upsetting, unsettling feelings passed between them and the house. They both had thought this night or that night would be their last night here. Neither made any attempt to move. Until one particular night late in the evening.

“Franklin?” whispered Dove. They had just settled in bed for an hour or so. “Franklin?” and she gave his arm a little nudge. Nothing. She waited. Dove cuddled down further in bed, squeezing herself closer to the heat of Franklin’s sleeping body. Try at she may, sleep wouldn’t come. Hearing noises, ticks, rattlings and other sounds she couldn’t place, Dove tried in vain to reconcile her restlessness with something other than the obvious. The house was unhappy. Rather quite unhappy. The emotional feeling was solid and freely roaming throughout.

As Dove nervously lay there listening to the unpleasant noise of unhappiness, of sorrow and dread, she twisted her body in such a way to look behind herself. A foreboding darkness surrounded her. And again she pleaded whispering, “Franklin?” while bumping him squarely on the arm. “Franklin.” Slowly his eyes opened. “I feel like there’s a big ball of badness coming.”

Upon seeing Dove awake and in a half crouching position, “What?” Franklin was half asleep and confused, however sensing her direness, her grief, pain and doom. “Dove?” again her asked. Turning, twisting and sitting up to touch her face, her arm, Franklin noticed what she was looking at. “What the..” He had to twist around in bed to look up and behind. 

Franklin always had the witless idea to place the head of any bed nearest the door. It was a dumb idea, a dumb thing to do. They always say never place your back toward the entrance of a door, you can’t see what’s coming. Well, again he had placed the foot of the bed facing the opposite wall and the head toward the door. Brainless. Dorky she would call it. He would admit for a long time the idea was dumb. 

Looking behind and up, Franklin could swear a pitch solid black silhouette of a man stood by the head of the bed. Only about three feet away. And stared down. There were no eyes this time, but they knew a stare even when it couldn’t be seen. Dove stared back parting her mouth just a little, letting her frosty breath come and go of its own volition. In, out, in, out. She dragged the covers closer forward, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the silhouette. 

“Close your eyes,” Franklin ordered. “Dove, close your eyes.” She couldn’t. Franklin felt her emotional dread, heartache and sorrow accost him all at once. He suddenly what it was to breathe an atmosphere of sorrow.

Grabbing Dove by both arms, “Look at me,” Franklin sternly directed. “Only look at me. Dove!” She did. “Don’t look at it,” commanded Franklin. “Keep your eyes on me. Only on me.” And Dove did. She never looked again in front of her. Continuing to stare only at Franklin however, Dove would never let go of the panic, the fright, the pain of the apparition. She also would never see the shadow blink, the unseen eyes glow, fading in and out of the dark, and never would see the shadow emit such loss, such wretchedness and torment of remorse. She never saw when it dissipated and left. But she did see Franklin, she saw his eyes, the bright gray light reflecting back everything which was good, kind and connected to her own. And she stayed that way for a very long time. 

After what seemed like a perpetual eternity, Dove’s eyes closed. And when they opened again, she was cradled against Franklin’s body, wrapped up warm in a multitude of blankets. And Franklin, still awake and alert. 

Smiling up at him, the phantom boogieman of last night long from her mind, Dove had the mindset to get up and make them both fresh coffees. “How about some coffee? I”ll make so .. “

“Pack your things,” Franklin earnestly stated. Dove’s look of surprise began a panic anew which was long forgotten again. Again he reiterated, “We’re leaving. Now. No coffee, no nothing. Pack your things, and whatever you want. We’re going.” Dove’s slow apprehension turned quickly to a fluster.

“But,” she stammered. “Raphael? What about Raphael?”

Flinging back heated covers, “I’ll tell my Uncle we don’t have the funds anymore to fix this place up. It’s no big deal. It’ll be fine.” Franklin leaned forward pressing his palms into the mattress, “Look Dove, I’ve been thinking. I thought all night. There’s something up with this place. Shadows, cold spots, unexplained noises. Actual spectres now? It’s getting to both of us. It’s weird. This place is too weird. I don’t want to say haunted, but. We need to leave.”

So he could tell, he could feel it too, he could. It was a welcome confirmation to Dove. A little elation, a little excitement, both permitting her mood to swing in a more positive direction, her cheeks heated, face and neck seeming to flush. With renewed spark of energy, Dove almost fell off the bed while detangling her feet from the mess of covers. “Ok,” she settled on. Just, “Ok!” And her mood rejoiced. Dove sprang into action.

No noise from downstairs that morning, no shadows popping round corners, no visions of strange basement men in beige suits smiling after her, Dove set about dumping clothing into duffle bags, folding towels and bagging up toiletries. Sifting through unknown drawers. Franklin boxed up books, kitchenware and car paraphernalia. The day jubilantly went by. Dove was even more blithe and enchanted while setting aside little trinkets and jewelry from the house she had found which agreed with her clothing choices and suited her mood. But the day also dragged on ‘till almost dusk.

The car packed full, bottles of water settled in cup holders, Franklin shut the trunk of the Pinto with a slam. Dove being almost elated, had just one last look behind her as Franklin encased himself within his seat belt, shutting the car door and turned over the engine. “Franklin,” she stated. He didn’t want to hear it. He knew what she would say. He himself had felt the pull from the house behind him. The pull and weight of anguish and distress the house sent off. He felt it come hurtling towards him, towards them. He wanted to get away now.

“Franklin,” Dove mentioned merely as a fact, “The house, there’s a something in the window. Franklin? Do you see it? Should we stay?” And as Franklin refused to look back, “Maybe we should stay,” Dove mildly suggested. It wasn’t a question. 

“No.” was the firm statement Dove was handed. “Buckle up. Let’s go. Don’t look back.” She didn’t. But still she was frightened not too. The car’s motor sputtered and sparked then finally thundered to life. It sped off. The road underneath tires crunched and battered noisily.

The driveway wasn’t long, just filled with dust and gravel. Their hearts weren’t breaking, just tired filled with regret, but also the need to escape and break free. The dusk encased them, twilight loomed, the house beckoned. The dusk, twilight and all encompassing night turned into ...

“Franklin look out!” screeched Dove, “Ahh!” as the vision swiftly bolted in front. “Franklin! It’s!, Its! No, Franklin!” as she shrieked over and over and over. She desperately tried to free herself from the strangling belt buckle. By now Dove was lost in her own screams and howls as night, cloud, dust and mist enveloped her. Those beautiful screams mingled and mixed with the beautiful vintage jewelry she carelessly stole and packed away.

Gritting his teeth, Franklin forcefully cranked the wheel to the left, while slamming on the brakes careening the front end into a pile of thickly placed trees. The sound and squash of the hood was solid and deafening. A flash blinded him. Hands grabbed for him. The smell of densely packed dirt and night and sulfur and decay splayed around them.

“Dove!” Franklin shouted, “Dove! Where are you?! Dove!” He was blinded for eons. “No!, No!, Dove!” he screamed over and over till there were no more of his own screams left to hear. 

When calls were left unanswered, when the ringing of the doorbell issued no response, when their car was later found, there were no answers to a multitude of questions. The sturdy little Pinto smashed against trees, woods extensively searched, unfinished house remodeling left abandoned, Franklin’s Uncle had no choice but to give up, and let the two young starlights go. 

No one would ever find the result of their screams. Ever.

[vcg73]

Glee Memories

Someone reblogged an old post to which I had contributed this run-down of my entire Glee fan experience. It made me laugh to read it, because I cannot deny ANY of the reactions even now. This is truly what it was like to watch the show in original air date Fox TV real time - endless mid-season hiatuses and all. Reposting just my own section:

Season 1 - SO good and fun! I want to see more of this!  Kurt, I love you. You’re so funny and I especially loved the second half of the season when you started singing solos and being a Cheerio!  Even the characters I didn’t really embrace I still want to learn more about. And the songs, and the hope for next year’s competitions…  Damn you, summer hiatus!

Season 2 - OMG, not as fresh as last year but still some amazing stuff!  Burt and Carole are cute together, though a little oblivious. Why didn’t we ever get any blended Hudmel family scenes?  Especially at Christmas.  *pout* Didn’t care for Kurt being basically sidelined at Dalton Academy for half the season, and his crush is kind of an oblivious jerk, but I have hope. Things much better by the end with Kurt back at McK and no joy to the bullies. Can’t quite make up my mind if I want to forgive Karofsky. He was awful, but also terrified. I’ll make up my mind next year. Aw, Jean Sylvester has died, I liked her.  Finn, a funeral should not inspire you to dump one girl and chase another. You big drip. Too bad about Nationals, but it’s okay that they didn’t go straight to the top. More reason to put out all the stops next year!  I liked this season a lot overall. Damn you, summer hiatus!

Season 3 - What the fuck has happened to this show? Blaine transfers in, acts like a dick, steals opportunities and insults people, but by the end every single character is completely up his ass. Wha-?  Wait, are Finchel a couple again for the 4,869th time, or are they broken up again?  I can’t keep up.  Am I really supposed to care about the suddenly evil Warblers and their smirking meerkat boss? Cause I don’t.  Warbler Council I miss you.  Shue, you’re horrible, get off my screen. Sue, go with him, you’re not funny anymore. Kurt ends up stuck in Lima with no prospects, while Rachel of the world’s worst audition gets his spot at the fancy performing arts school? What the hell!  And what do you mean, he only applied to ONE school, that makes no sense given his historic ambition to escape Lima, and determination to help Finn get out too. Someone at NYADA is a lazy bastard who couldn’t be bothered to send out the acceptance letters until JUNE, so most of their prospectives have probably accepted other offers by now.  This entire season made no sense and left a bad taste in my mouth. Thank God for summer hiatus!

Season 4 - Better in some respects. Really stupid in others. Kurt does an amazing audition and gets a second chance (that he should have had the first time) to get into his school.  I’ll take it.  Blaine, you’re a lying, cheating, selfish sack of shit and I’ve given up hoping you’ll ever improve. Just go away and stop horning in where you don’t belong. Adam Crawford, you’re a cinnamon roll too good for this world, but no way too good for Kurt. :)  I’m not usually a shipper, but you’re forcing me to ship hard.  New Glee Club, your boring clone selves need to step it up and show some originality if you want anyone to like you. Uh, wow, did that nasty Cheerio girl really try to kill the other girl by making her anorexic and totally get away with that with no consequences? Epic fail. Shue, you’re revolting. Oh, Unique. I like you, but why did you leave a star position at Carmel only to be meek about being shoved into the background at McKinley?  Really thought Blaine might get offed in that stink-bomb of a school shooting episode. It would have had emotional resonance for others and retired that character with a shred of dignity. Wasn’t that the point of having people declare Blaine teen angel/Jesus-standin for half the season? But no. Nothing happens and they chuck Becky-used to be cool but now is just super annoying-Jackson under the bus instead. (Also, why did nobody on the New York side even seem to know this headline-making event even happened?) Rachel, taking insensitivity and selfishness to new heights in New York. Why is Kurt suddenly your care-taker and general servant? Blech. Sarah Jessica Parker, completely wasted from great starting potential. Did Sam’s brain fall out in the deep end of the swimming pool and float away? Cause, whoa. Finn? Finn! Pay attention, dude. Cut your losses and go to your classes at Ohio state (or wherever). Burt, thank you for squashing that stupid proposal idea. But where is Adam?  Come back, adorable little cupcake!  Summer hiatus, thank you, I need a break but kinda like where everyone finally ended at the last of this year. This has definite potential.

Season 5 - Dead Finn = sadness. I kind of wish they had just retired him to off screen college somewhere. Wait, what?  God Damn It Writers! You can’t just transplant Finchel’s planned storyline to a totally different couple and expect it to make perfect sense, especially with no work or real character improvement to the horrible hair-gelled menace!  Copy glee club remains boring, and I don’t give a rat’s ass about their wash-rinse-repeat romances or lifeless competition performances. What the heck has happened to the timeline of this show?  Where did Adam go? Oh hey, it’s Demi Lovato and Adam Lambert!  Aww, I really like Elliott. It’s about time Kurt got a genuine friend. Rachel, just go away. I can’t deal with you anymore. Burt has been replaced by a pod-person. Creepy puppets more lifelike than most of their human counterparts by now. One Three Hill, I love you!  But I can already see that this is another great start with soon to be wasted potential when the contracts run out.  Damn it, writers! Don’t put Blaine in NYADA, that makes no sense at all.  If this school was as particular as you claimed, he wouldn’t have even made it to the audition round. Combat Jocks are all hot for Kurt, YESSSS!  Santana, I’ve never liked you because you’re horrid to everyone but you’re finally starting to grow on me a little. Aw, Chris Colfer’s episode plays like old time Glee!  Fun. More, please. Shirley MacLaine gives me the creeps as the old cougar lady. And we’re taking an early hiatus after shedding viewers like snake-skin all season. Can’t say I’m not relieved. I’m determined to see this show through, but my god…  

Season 6 - Only a dozen episodes this year? I can make it.  Ooo, Kurt dumped the albatross and sent him packing. That’s promising.  Rachel’s ego blew up in her face and she’s back in Ohio. Even more promising.  New New Directions, I surprisingly actually like you guys a little, though I liked One Three Hill much better. (And the Apples, whatever happened to those folks?) This could actually end with a bang instead of a whimper!  Aaand, I spoke too soon. Kurt get your cute butt out of Ohio, you can do so much better in New York, preferably single and dating new appreciative men!  Whoa, Sue is full on demented and dangerous this year. Why is she still in a teaching position again? Shue, you’re useless. Get off my screen. Santana previous potential goes right to hell in one fell swoop. Nice briefly knowing you, emotional development. Kurt, I’m serious, go back to NYADA and find whatever locker you left your spine in please. DO NOT take that asshat back for the 8,937th time, please!  He’s not worth it.  You … what …?  Oh my God, he did it, and fucking Dave Karofsky actually helped them along.  *beats head on wall*  No, please tell me everyone isn’t about to bend over backwards to put Rachel back on top of the heap again!  *sigh* That’s it. I’m done. 7 episodes left of this series and I just can’t take it anymore.  The writers-room monkeys have mixed pieces from 10 different puzzles, mashed them into a frame with a mallet, eaten the finished product, shit it into their hands, and tossed it at the few remaining fans still watching through the bars.

And that’s what you (lucky souls) missed on Glee!

[writings-and-rose]

Come Back PART 2

WOW WOW WOW! I’m super sorry, folks! I had a bit of a mental health issue while I was moving back to England from Canada, so it’s been a bit hectic. BUT I am looking forward to posting more and hopefully introducing y’all more to my OCS! I will admit, Come Back is definitely fueling my motivation for my one OC, Joanna and I may start to focus on her a bit. I REAAAALLLLY hope you guys enjoy this, but please, any critiques you have, send them my way!  Anyway, please enjoy! This is already taking a bit of a weird turn haha! TAG LIST:  https://alwayshave-faith.tumblr.com/ ; https://foggyturtleknightangel.tumblr.com/ ; https://super-hereos-are-my-life.tumblr.com/  ; https://because-icanhide.tumblr.com/  ; https://irreverent-dream.tumblr.com/     

The snow fell like cotton balls. Of course, Gotham finally offered something other than rainfall. 

The last time snow fell in Gotham at this pace was when Bruce and Y/N’s first Christmas together. 

“Richard, you promised me you would not go near that tree.” Y/N chuckled as she attempted to snatch the present out of his hand. Unfortunately for her, Dick was two years into his training as Robin and his reflexes were better than ever. He shuffled quickly away and ran out of the living room, laughing more than he has in what felt like weeks to Y/N. She managed to corner him until he distracted her and ran into Bruce’s office, who was currently in some important meeting. 

The men in suits, scolding Dick, Y/N’s boy, for being a child. Before Y/N could defend his actions, Bruce chimed in: “It’s the holidays, and he and Y/N have been very patient for us to finish this meeting,” Bruce rose from his desk and cleared his throat, “besides, I promised the boy a snowball fight at the first snowfall.”

The fantasy faded before Y/N could hear Dick’s cheers. She didn’t remember stumbling into his office, but here she was, alone. Y/N hadn’t realized how cold the room felt. Bruce was adamant about keeping his father’s portrait on the wall behind the desk, but it had put a pit in her stomach. Yes, Mr. Wayne was one of the nicest men out there, but... 

Would he have approved of Y/N? The street rat. The whore from the streets. The woman that didn’t cry when she found out her son died. She could virtually hear Thomas and Martha whispering into her ears-  

You let him die. 

Y/N could feel the walls closing in on her. The ghosts of the house screaming at her to get out, much louder than usual. She knew she was delirious. She was going insane, it was clear to anyone, and it was undoubtedly clear to Y/N. Sane people don’t see their dead husband’s father sitting behind a desk. A bullet hole in their chest, drinking a glass of whiskey and gesturing for her to sit down as if this was a typical Tuesday morning. The tension was so thick in the room, Y/N wasn’t sure if she couldn’t breathe from it, or she genuinely had a heart attack.  As she went to sit in the firm leather chair, Barry swung the door open, panting (something genuinely unheard of). 

“Where the hell have you been?! You weren’t in your room, the garden, the-the freaking shower-”

“You checked my shower?”

“That’s irrelevant, Y/N! What the hell are you thinking? You are late-late to the... what the hell are you doing in here?” Barry looked around the office, someplace that was entirely new territory for the speedster, “Y/N, please tell me you are drinking apple juice.”

She looked down to see the cooling brown liquid in her crystal glass and then turned to the clock on Bruce’s desk reading 10:00. Before answering Barry, Y/N sniffed the drink and confirmed that it was positively not apple juice. She stood up, left the glass on the desk and smoothed her hands over her black, silky dress and turned towards the windowpane. 

The snow. The peaceful snow. Y/N took a deep sigh and shifted back towards the speedster,

“I’m ready.” Y/N reluctantly answered as she walked passed Barry. She rushed towards the front hallway. She had a small hope of faith that her children would be there waiting for her but, all there was Damien quietly waiting at the front entrance to the manor.  Her youngest son had clearly been crying while getting ready for this conference, but could she blame him? He wasn’t only new to the family, but his only blood relative around him was gone. And, Y/N thought to herself He’s stuck looking after me. 

Y/N shook the thoughts out of her head before running a hand through her son’s glossy black hair. It was a silent but heartfelt moment for the two as the boy wrapped himself around her, sniffling into her stomach. She hated to admit it; she preferred Damien as his usual, stone-cold and snarky brat. This wasn’t her son. This was the shell of a lost and confused kid. Her son would’ve made a comment on how much weight she’s gained or if I looked at a mirror before they left. It wasn’t that Y/N didn’t want at least one of her sons to be emotional with her, but she didn’t know how to help Damien, who was this lost. He wasn’t Dick, or Jason, or Tim, for that matter. Y/N never had to comfort a natural-born assassin before. 

After a few minutes, Damien slowly let go of his step-mother as he rubbed his eyes with the sleeve of his smart jacket. Barry, who was quietly standing behind Y/N throughout the uncomfortably heartfelt moment, opened the door and helped the two into the chauffeured car. Barry decided that it would be best if he found a different means of transport to Wayne enterprise; a new widow with a strange man, closer to her own age, supporting her? It was a recipe for disaster. He watched the car disappear before using his own speed to get to the building. 

Damien was not quiet during the car ride, much to Y/N’s dismay. He had her rehearse her speech to the board and the press for what felt like a hundred times until she finally said to him, “Hun, please, I need to think to myself.” Even with her plea, the silence lasted for two minutes until he asked the question she never wanted to answer-

"Who were you before Mrs. Wayne?"

[czec-hoslo-vak-ians]

Michael and Maria 👽

Scene goes 💜

I like that this to be continued picks up right where we left off I've never seen a Max freaking out like this before. It seems like Tess is pushing Max to remember that he's the king of a different world. She definitely leaving breadcrumbs. I'm with Rath ho puts Mayo on pastrami? However I wouldn't take it to the extent that he did by yelling at the waiter. WT?? Nichols is back? House is possible when he was destroyed a few episodes back.

Nicholas seems like he's growing up a little bit doesn't seem like the punk little kid anymore. Nicholas is so correct Max Isabel Tess Michael are definitely not the rejects because they have granilith. You can tell the wheels in Rath head is spinning to understand that logic. Who knew that the Dupre were working with Nicholas. Max and Tess are so out of there element right now. I don't blame Tess for asking all these questions. I wonder how long they took to shoot that scene where Max catches the ball when Rath hits his way. Awkward Max and Tess just in there awhile Lonnie and Rath make out.

I don't blame Isabelle for not wanting to be around the humans right now. It totally sucks that with his lying to Maria about her sleeping with Kyle it sucks that she doesn't believe in her friend she can handle the truth and keep it a secret I don't blame Maria for being upset with Liz for not telling her she slept with Kyle. It's sad that Ava has no place to go that she has to sleep in the alley like that.

that look like what's a simple test that Max just passed the guy just needed to see if he was truly the King which means Zan would of maybe not of passed.

Maria is such a good friend to meet up with Liz at 3 in the morning. I'm glad that Liz finally told Maria the truth about everything I'm glad told somebody that it was really eating her up inside.

Maria being the perky self that she is with Brody lunch. Hopefully she remembers what Brody told her about being abducted if she doesn't see him for a few days. Yep Brody has been abducted cuz he's New York and he looks lost and confused. Tess looks so uncomfortable hearing them talk about Kivar just her demeanor and face expression looks like she's hiding something. I'm glad that Max is standing up for Michael and Isabel that he won't leave them behind. I'm so glad Max lied about knowing about the granilith. He's recalling to what Liz said about it getting into the wrong hands. Poor Ava living with this guilt of the murder of Zan. Eva knows something when Liz says Max brought her back to life.

I'm glad Max called is about to ask her if she wanted to go home however the conversation is not going so well he's getting annoyed for no reason. You see the wheels turning in his head he knows that Lonnie imprisoned her. I love it when Michael gets mad he just goes off the rails with his powers. I'm glad that Ava finally told the truth what happened to Zan.

Finally Max taking the lead and putting Rath in his place, however not a good idea to piss him off though because you don't need Max standing up like Zan. Lonnie is laying it on thick plane the long-lost sister card. It makes sense why Nicholas is back because technically that is Kivar. It's so loving up Isabel to put our anger for Max decide to see his life and warn him. It's a crappy deal that Max getting I'm surprised he's even considering any of this. He shoukd of said no the granilith isn't with him.

I don't even know why Max is contemplating this the answer should automatically just be no. I just can't handle the lies and deceit that's coming out of Tess mouth right now she's putting on too much of an act right now to be believable me to trying to oversell it. Lonnie and Nicholas deserve each other they're both sleeves balls. They are willing to throw anybody and everyone under the bus and get what they want.

I feel bad that Maria is left out of a little Pow to help to help warn Max. I knew Ava knew something was up when Liz told her that Max brought her back from the dead. Again laying it on thick Lonnie is to get Max to do what she wants him to. Isabel is so right Max would hear Liz's voice no matter what or where he is.

Max made the right choice by saying no. I really wish all this talk about history repeating itself we get to see it. I'm so glad that he saw Liz and took two steps towards. I don't believe that she doesn't remember how she fought that but I do believe that they did try to get her head or maybe the whole thing is just a lie. Something tells me not to believe her right now.

I'm so glad that they can become Max and Isabel again brother and sister as they were in season 1. I think this is going to make them stronger now. I can't believe that back was so close to taking the deal with Nicholas but his love for his sister and Michael one out in the end. I'm going to miss Ava she's cool. Maybe she's the only one left of the Dupre. Because we don't know what happened to Lonnie and Rath. Something is definitely Brewing between Brody and Maria. I'm glad that Max is willing to work on his friendship with Liz. Maxi tell that Liz wants to tell him the truth but he knows that she can't.

Quote of the episode" oh I hate this stupid rat-infested urine smoked butt ugly town"

Coming up next a Roswell Christmas Carol

Pic NOT mine

[theyearoftheking]

Book Sixty-Two: Full Dark, No Stars

“Come 2030, only the rats will be happy.” 

Constant Readers know I consider Steve’s novellas to be the strongest of his works. It’s his sweet spot, and Full Dark, No Stars is absolutely no exception. These dark, twisty stories knocked me on my ass. Truly. They even inspired me to do something I never do... turn to the interwebs to get insight. I knew these four stories had something in common... they were bound by some theme I couldn’t quite put my finger on. 

Well, according to Wikipedia, that theme is retribution. If you had asked me, I would have guessed rats. Because every damn story seems to include some cringeworthy scene involving rats. I just can’t handle them. Despite my beloved Sarah Silverman recently saying on her podcast that rats are just an uglier version of squirrels. Maybe I’m too much of a midwestern girl- give me the damn squirrels any day. 

But back to retribution! This is the darkest, dirtiest collection of stories about retribution I’ve ever come across. Trigger warnings abound: rape, violent murder, and rats. 

Here’s the requisite list of Easter eggs before I get into the stories:

“Chap in the belly”- which was a phrase we read countless times during Susannah’s pregnancy in The Dark Tower

“Happy Crappy”

Derry: with additional nods to The Barrens and Bill Denbrough’s mom 

Juniper Hill

“Long Days and Pleasant Nights”

“Fall of the Towers” 

Heminford Home, Nebraska: I can’t take any credit for this one, Wikipedia helped me with this Easter egg. But- this is Mother Abagail’s (The Stand) hometown; and it’s also where Ben Hanscom (It) moves when he’s all grown up. 

The first story is 1922; and heavily influenced by Edgar Allen Poe. With a side of rats. The story is written in the form of a letter from Wilfred James, confessing to the murder of his wife, Arlette James. They had some disagreements about whether or not to sell their farm, and he solved the issue by killing her and throwing her body in a well. Their son, Henry was an accomplice to the murder, and the letter details Henry’s subsequent downhill slide after witnessing his mother’s murder. The most graphic part of the entire story is a rat ripping the udder off one of the cows. I just cringed. So much cringing. But it’s got atmosphere for days. 

The second story is Big Driver; and I think it’s the most disturbing thing I’ve ever read by Steve. Tess, the author of the Willow Grove Knitting Society series accepts a last-minute speaking invitation from Ramona Norville at the Chicopee Public Library. As she’s leaving the event, Ramona gives Tess a short cut to keep her off the highway. Tess ends up with a flat tire, and the good Samaritan who ends up stopping to help her change her flat, violently rapes her, and leaves her for dead. Trigger warning: it’s a graphic story. Tess doesn’t want to bother calling the police; so she takes justice into her own hands. After some internet research, she finds out Ramona is actually the mother of the man who raped her, and she may or may not have intentionally sent Tess on the alternate route. Tess refuses to be a victim, and takes care of business. It’s bloody, but she gets hers in the end. 

Third up is Fair Extension; which is the most honest of all the stories. It’s human nature to hate when good things happen to people we don’t deem worthy. But what if you had the opportunity to reverse another person’s luck? Would you do it? Would you pay for it? How would you feel sitting back and watching one bad thing after another happen to this individual? Would that honestly make you feel better about your life? 

Finally, we have A Good Marriage. This is the story that every single true crime documentary and Dateline special is based on... how well do we really know the people in our lives? Do you think you could be married to a murderer? Where are they hiding the evidence? Steve actually based this story off the Dennis Rader, the BTK Killer. That’s Bind, Torture, Kill for all you non-murderinos out there. I mean... just look at this dude... does he scream serial killer; or bored, suburban dad?

 This was my personal favorite in the collection, but they’re all delightfully dark in their own way.

We even had a Wisconsin mention! Steve based 1922 on a book called Wisconsin Death Trip, which included photos from Black River Falls. Steve was impressed with the isolation in both the geography and the individuals. I’ve spent a decent amount of time in Black River Falls: it has a large rest stop which I have visited and enjoyed many a lunch on my way back from northern Wisconsin. I have enjoyed the views of the falls (yes! actual falls!) and the large moose at the truck stop. FYI: the book is out of print, but you can get copies on Amazon for about $31. I know what’s going on my Christmas list this year!!

Total Wisconsin Mentions: 41

Total Dark Tower References: 59

Book Grade: A+

Rebecca’s Definitive Ranking of Stephen King Books

The Talisman: A+

Wizard and Glass: A+

Under the Dome: A+

Needful Things: A+

On Writing: A+

The Green Mile: A+

Hearts in Atlantis: A+

Full Dark, No Stars: A+

Rose Madder: A+

Misery: A+

Different Seasons: A+

It: A+

Four Past Midnight: A+

Stephen King Goes to the Movies: A+

The Shining: A-

The Stand: A-

Bag of Bones: A-

Duma Key: A-

Black House: A-

The Wastelands: A-

The Drawing of the Three: A-

The Dark Tower: A-

Dolores Claiborne: A-

Nightmares in the Sky: B+

The Dark Half: B+

Skeleton Crew: B+

The Dead Zone: B+

Nightmares & Dreamscapes: B+

Wolves of the Calla: B+

‘Salem’s Lot: B+

Song of Susannah: B+

Carrie: B+

Creepshow: B+

From a Buick 8: B

The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon: B

The Colorado Kid: B-

Storm of the Century: B-

Everything’s Eventual: B-

Cycle of the Werewolf: B-

Danse Macabre: B-

The Running Man: C+

Cell: C+

Thinner: C+

Dark Visions: C+

The Eyes of the Dragon: C+

The Long Walk: C+

The Gunslinger: C+

Pet Sematary: C+

Firestarter: C+

Rage: C

Desperation: C-

Insomnia: C-

Cujo: C-

Nightshift: C-

Faithful: D

Gerald’s Game: D

Roadwork: D

Lisey’s Story: D

Christine: D

Dreamcatcher: D

The Regulators: D

The Tommyknockers: D

Next is 11/22/63; which I have read and loved. I also really enjoyed the series on Hulu as well, and James Franco does an excellent job as Jake Epping. And he’s easy to look at. So there’s that. 

Until next time, Long Days & Pleasant Nights,

Rebecca

[mbavholidayexchange]

to @oceanographerschoice from @rowsha

title: holidays are for making you blush

rating: teen and up audiences

summary:

the story of a vampire learning to be loved, and the two idiots who love him.

ao3 link: link

content:

Rory Keaner grew up different from his boyfriends.

Not so much different from Benny, as they both grew up with a single parent, but much more different than Ethan. He sort of (definitely) envies Ethan in a way (in many ways); he envies his nuclear family, his good grades, his smarts, his humor, and-

His flat chest.

He envied Benny's too. Both of them, unlike Rory, grew up and identified as cisgender boys. Nothing changed about their wardrobe when they got to middle school. Neither of them had to deal with a substitute teacher who didn't know the chosen names of everyone in their class. They didn't live with the shame, the tears, the want to be someone other than themselves- they've been with each other since they were both in diapers. And Rory would never have that bond with the two of them. He would never be able to relate to them the way that they related to each other.

The jokes, the references, and the longing, knowing gazes they would shoot in the direction of the other. Rory didn't know what it was like to have someone know you inside and out. He knew the concept of his body was… an enigma all on its own. He knew his own brain betrayed him when it came to understanding a word Ethan and Benny were saying to each other half the time.

So, becoming a vampire made things…

The day he got bit was easily the best and worst day of his life. It was rushed, it was peer pressure, it was the way Rory felt waking up into a body he finally felt was his. But at the same time… he felt dead. No matter how you looked at it- he was a dead person, that was a part of him now. He didn't have a beating heart, just still blood that stayed cold and dead like cement flowing throughout his veins. He had no need to eat, but he still ate (in other ways). He didn't need sleep, not because he was immortal, but because the thought of never being the person he was before… it tore him up inside.

For the way he was born and for the way he transformed, he knew he wouldn't be the same as his boyfriends ever again. After all, they were human- well, minus Ethan because he's some type of prophet for the supernatural. And Benny too, what with him being a "spellmaster" as Grandma Weir put it. So, okay, maybe they weren't fully human. But they would grow old and live life the way it was meant to be lived- with death. And Rory would have to watch them die and be alone for all of eternity. Who else (other than a seer and witch) would be able to love someone so… noticeably undead?

To Rory's surprise, Benny and Ethan didn't really care whether he was alive or "undead." they cared about keeping Rory safe from being found out. They stole bags from the blood drive, they picked up extra sunblock for him at the corner store. Sunglasses, hoodies, rats- the whole nine yards. Just to make Rory happy. Just to keep him from exposure. it made him wonder if all those intrusive thoughts of never being to love again once they were dead were valid at all. He feels like, to a certain degree, the thought of his boyfriends staying with him (even after they were long gone) would be enough for him to make it on his own.

There were still other things about being a vampire trapped in a girl's body that bothered him. On one hand, he could run away from his mom and live his life and live somewhere with Ethan and Benny in the woods. Like they did in Dusk. On the other hand, he could tell someone other than those two what was going on, and that he needed help (a cure, a surgery, something). If he stayed the way he was, trapped inside his room with the curtains drawn and sneaking vermin into his room, he would stay like that until his mom noticed he wasn't aging and find out the awkward way. But if he just told somebody maybe it would be hard and he could find a cure like Sarah did and live and die with Benny and Ethan and-

No. That's not possible.

He can't tell anyone. Not a single soul. that he's a vampire- that he's transgender. That his disgusting, embarrassing name is Tabitha Abigail Keaner and that's the name he has to hear over and over and over at home. At a place that doesn't feel like home because home was wherever Ethan and Benny were.

But he can't keep it in any longer. Surely, it's going to get blurted out eventually. Or written in a note followed by "I've decided to skip town, you'll never see me again, goodbye everyone." He wondered, sometimes, how much a bus ticket would cost.

Not a lot of it makes sense, and not a lot of it should make sense. But he knows that no matter how horrible his home life will get, and no matter how much he wants to correct teachers and substitutes, he'll always have his home. Ethan will always put on a videogame and Benny will always order a pizza for the three of them. And they will always call him Rory, whenever they kiss or hold hands or ask him to pass the remote.

Rory decided that he wouldn't let the daunting gloom of immortality shake him as much as it did when he was just a fledgling. He decided that the future was malleable and the present was cement, because of Ethan throwing his controller and Benny slamming the door on the delivery guy's face. He cherishes what he has, even if it is two dorks in Canada. For now, as the thoughts of them dying swim in his mind's kiddie pool, Rory rests on Ethan's chest while holding Benny's hand.

-

"Chag ah molad baruch, Ror." Benny says, placing a kiss on Rory's cheek as they sat under Ethan's Christmas tree.

He blushes, both because of Benny's kiss and the embarrassment of not learning Hebrew fast enough. He looks down at the wrapped gift in his lap, sitting shiny and neat underneath a large plastic ribbon. He pulls Benny in for a hug. It only lasts for a second or two, before he pulls back to ask:

"That means 'blessed Yule', right?"

Benny laughs, then nods in agreement. He gives Rory another peck on the cheek and Rory has to try his best not to squeal like a Dusk fangirl.

"Or 'merry Christmas'," Ethan interjects, face stuffed with Grandma Weir's cookies, "but if you wanna look at its root meaning, it translates to-"

"Celebrating the birth of a male. Yes, E, we know." Benny and Rory both roll their eyes, knowing that Ethan was never slow when it came to languages.

Rory feels a bit bitter that Benny taught Ethan hebrew before him- but then again, they did meet before they met Rory, so it makes sense that Ethan would be almost fluent in it by now. Still, it didn't stop Rory from being jealous of their impenetrable bond.

Ethan shrugs, turning back to the cookie platter only to notice the last of the treats had been mysteriously eaten. He gasps dramatically, spinning around to face Benny and Rory, who were gleefully eating the remaining cookies together.

"Stupid vampire speed." he grumbles, sitting down next to the two of them. Rory ruffles his hair playfully, and he smiles.

"You should know you're no match for the vampire ninja, babe." Rory says matter-of-factly, resting on his elbows now. A smug smile was plastered on his face as Ethan scowled and Benny giggled.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." he says with his arms crossed, "open my gift first."

"No way! My gift is cooler!" Benny says, pushing Ethan's gift out of Rory's lap and snapping his fingers. Suddenly, a small, beautifully wrapped box is in the other gift's place. It sparkles with magic air, shining (quite literally) as bright as a star.

"Wh- no fair! Yours didn't glow before! Take it back!" Ethan surges towards Benny, tackling him to the ground. They both struggle for a while, Benny pulling at Ethan's hair and Ethan trying to put Benny in a chokehold while Rory falls to the floor laughing.

After enough laughing, and concern for his boyfriends' well being, Rory decides to speak up.

"Okay, how about I open the gifts with my eyes closed? That way, whichever gift I pick is a surprise."

The two boys look up from their tangled position at Rory, Ethan's fist stopping mid-air above Benny's face. They look at each other, then shrug. They untangle themselves from each other, sitting prim and proper next to the tree. It makes Rory's smile even wider.

"Seems fair to me." Benny says.

"I don't see why not." Ethan agrees.

With that, Rory closes his eyes and begins to reach underneath the tree. He feels around for a bit, hand accidentally bumping the branches of the fake plant, until he feels a gift. He can't tell whose it is, but he knows that it's medium sized and wrapped in a bow. He thinks it might be the present from earlier. He picks it up and settles it on his lap, opening his eyes.

"To Rorster, from Ethan." he reads aloud, "looks like Ethan's is up first."

Benny groans in defeat, and Ethan pumps his fist in triumph. He briefly turns to Benny and kisses him apologetically, ruffling his hair. "Better luck next time, Ben."

"Go on, open it." Ethan encourages, arm around Benny.

Rory rips through the paper excitedly, making sure to keep the bow intact as he tears off the decorative wrapping. When all the paper is gone, he sees a familiar logo across the seal. His eyes widen in realization, mouth agape in wonder. Could Ethan really have pulled this off? No way- no way he could've done this…

"Ethan, you shouldn't have…" Rory says as he peels back the seal on the package, opening it to reveal-

A chest binder.

Not just any chest binder- a GC2B binder. And not just one, but multiple; a nude one that matches his skin tone, a black one, and a navy blue one. Rory clutches his hands over his mouth. He can't believe this… he knows how expensive these were, and he just… can't imagine how Ethan got the money to buy them.

"How- how did you-" Rory picks up the binders one by one, running his hands over the smooth material. Tears began to form in his eyes.

"It was nothing, really. I just used my birthday money from the past year or so and figured it would come in handy one day." Ethan said it like it was really nothing, shrugging nonchalantly as he leaned on Benny's side.

Rory, dumbfounded, couldn't keep his eyes off the binders. They seemed to shine brighter than the magic box, to glimmer in the light of the tree. The fabric felt silky smooth on one side, and perfectly rough on the other. It made Rory's heart want to leap out of his chest and swaddle his boys in the tightest of hugs. The tears from earlier were beginning to fall as Rory couldn't keep his happiness inside of him for much longer. The two boys began to take notice of his tears, wiping their own eyes themself.

"Well, I guess you gotta open mine now." Benny smirks when he says it, a glint in his eye that Rory knew all too well.

This is either going to be a very elegant gift or a very elaborate set up to a prank.

Rory opens the gift with caution, untying the ribbon around the small box. Still glowing, Rory has to squint his eyes to lift the top of the box off. He holds his hand over his eyes as if the sun was beaming directly into them. After a while, the light begins to die down.

"Jeez, Benny," Ethan rubs his irritated eyes, "did you have to make it so… painful to look at?"

"It's for the drama, dude."

Rory chuckles at that, wiping a light-induced tear from his eye as he reaches inside the box. His hand comes in contact with something small and… textured? It feels like a chain of some sort. He picks it up, then gazes in awe at the present in his palm.

"A locket? Ben…" true to his word, it's a real locket. The chain is silver, as is the heart shaped pendant hanging from it. Rory can see his reflection in the heart, and it makes his chest flutter.

"Open it!" Benny smiles from ear to ear, along with Ethan, who is just as in awe as Rory.

Doing as he's told, he opens the pendant. Inside is a picture of the three of them. They're at the place where they got those milkshakes that made Ethan discover he was lactose intolerant. As he blinks, the image changes. The picture of Benny and Ethan dressed as Ghostbusters on Halloween makes him remember the time they got swirlies from those jocks. It changes again to a moving image of Benny tripping and falling at the roller rink.

"I have no idea how you got pictures of these, but I love them. Thank you." Rory wraps his arms around Benny briefly, kissing him on the cheek as he lets go.

"It's a spell." Benny states proudly, "it shows all of your zikheronott semekhim- or 'happy memories', with the ones you love."

Ethan slaps him playfully on the shoulder. "You made my gift look like shit!"

Benny rushes to tackle Ethan, and they return to their shenanigans. They tussle on the floor again, looking like total geeks. Rory goes into another laughing fit as Ethan sits on Benny's back, trying to force him into a grotesque, spit-soaked kiss.

-

The next day, Rory proudly walks out of his house with a flat chest. His locket tucked safely under his shirt.

[padfootagain]

A Crimson Christmas (II)

Chapter 2: Erika

 Here we go for the next part of my Steve Rogers series! Will be focusing quite a lot on some character building for the reader, and some cute things with Steve. As several of you seemed to appreciate how I started the first chapter, I tried to make something similar for this chapter too. I hope you all like it!

Gif not mine

Word Count: 2417

18 000

11

400

150 000 to 300 000

It is a strange thing to sum up an event in numbers. It makes one's head spin, and yet it never quite stirs the true horror of a tragedy or joy of a miracle. Yet, most of the times, when trying to describe an event, using numbers as a first weapon is almost a reflex, an automatic response of our brain as it tries to grasp something it can't hold.

If one wanted to sum up the sinking of the oil tanker Erika in December 1999, off the shores of Brittany, they would use the 4 numbers written above.

The first is the number of litres of gasoline that were released in the ocean from the cracked hull of the ship.

The second is the number of days it took for the fuel to cross the distance from the wreckage to the shore.

The third is the number of kilometres of French coast that were polluted by the floating gasoline.

The fourth, and last, is the estimated number of birds that died in the catastrophe.

Numbers though are but abstract quantities, and if one wants to truly describe the event, there is no other way but to attempt to draw a fair picture of the shores at the time.

The scenery is easy. December 1999, a lot of grey and blue as a storm rages out. The violent waves end to pierce the already weakened steel skin of the oil tanker and cause its carcass to sink to the bottom of the ocean. Its sailors are saved, but the shipment, 30 884 tons of petrol, is partially released in the Atlantic Ocean. The attempts to stop the black wave to reach the coast are cut short by the storm that shakes the sea at this time of year.

11 days later, the first pools of gasoline touch the islands that stain the French coast.

4 more days and 400 km of coast are completely covered by toxic oil.

At first, it is but a few dots staining the sand, some grey caught in the foam left by the waves. A few hours later, there are large blocks of black sticky substance all over the seashells. The next day, the rocks, and the paint of the boats, and the sand are barely visible at all. The army is sent to clean the shores, but the scale is too great. Volunteers join in, with shovels and sponges and knives and brushes in an attempt to clean up every rock, every grain of sand.

Walking through a beach at this time is walking midst soldiers and volunteers. Every step is a fight against the sticky product, with boots sometimes buried ankles deep into the dark petrol. It is the fresh salty smell of seaweeds replaced by the sour one of gasoline. It is cliffs falling in black sand instead of the blue sea. It is bodies of birds stranded all over the place.

What did it change? For the people living on the coast, it is still today an open wound. If one tries to talk about the incident with the local population, they will be met by a pair of sad eyes and the tale of Christmas holidays spent ankle-deep in gasoline.

For the world? Nothing. Just one more incident to add to the long list of chasms carved in the environment.

For you? Everything.

You remembered the long ride from Saint-Malo to the western coast. First holidays since you entered University. For this first semester, you were majoring in all subjects, but you already had a vivid passion for bio-ecosystems, and in particular, marine biology.

Then the Erika sank. It was natural to go and help. You remembered Christmas day spent breathing the toxic petrol until it was all you could smell. Your boots buried in the sticky, black slime. Shovels and shovels digging the polluted sand. Soldiers all around you, but despite all this help, it wasn’t enough. You knew everything the gasoline would touch would surely die. It would take years for nature to heal. It had taken a few hours and a few minds craving for money to destroy it all.

You were picking up your fifth dead gull of the day. The gasoline, stuck to its feathers, made it impossible for it to float, and impossible for it to fly. Most of them had drowned, and all you could do was pick up the corpses.

You had ventured further than the rest of your friends, closer to the rocks now barely visible in all this black, when you heard a loud cry. A cormorant, without a doubt. You needed only a few seconds to spot the bird, covered in oil already, struggling to escape, struggling to avoid drowning, struggling to survive…

Somehow, it was just too much. After all you had seen that day, it was the last thing you could endure. You didn’t think at all as you ran across the slippery rocks and jumped in the salty water, trying to keep your head above the petrol.

You grabbed that poor agonizing thing in your arm, trying to keep it afloat, and you didn’t let go as it tried to escape.

The sea was far from calm though, and the thick layer of gasoline made it impossible to swim. At the first big wave, you were submerged, swallowing a bitter gulp of mixed salty water and fuel. You heard then the distant voices of your friends calling after you, they sounded scared, and you realized that you were too. Another forceful wave had you pushed against the rocks and you hit your head hard, and all went as dark as that bloody gasoline…

The rest was a blur. You remembered waking up in a hospital bed a week later, a real miracle. You should have died, that was what everybody said. But you didn’t, instead, somehow, you lived with new abilities.

You didn’t know where they came from, and were too scared of what any doctor could do to you if you ever showed any sign of abnormality, you had seen too many movies and read too many books to ignore the threat of becoming a lab rat. Years later, the Avengers formed, and you were spotted by Nick Fury. What had happened in your mind when you accepted to join them, you didn’t know. You reckoned that in the end, it was worth it all. This moment now, especially, made it all worthwhile.

After all, seeing Captain America wearing mascara and red lipstick was a sight to see.

"Mets tes lèvres comme ça!" the ten-year-old girl instructed Steve as she pursed her lips to show him what she wanted him to do, and he imitated her.

"Parfait!" she clapped her little hands in excitement as she added even more red to Steve’s lips.

"Gwen, laisse-le tranquille," your brother admonished, trying to rescue Steve from the excited child. But Steve merely smiled.

"It’s okay, we’re just playing," he reassured the worried father.

"Lèvres! Comme ça!"t Gwenn called Steve back into position and he pursed his lips again.

You picked up your phone and sneaked a picture, that you immediately sent to the entire Avengers WhatsApp group. With the different timezones, you reckoned you would have no answer before a few hours, but it was worth the wait.

It was true that joining the Avengers had meant a lot of changes, a lot of risks, a lot of pain. But it meant that you had met your best friends as well, and you couldn’t refrain a tender smile as you watched Steve play with your niece now.

"Y/N… the coffee is growing cold!"

You reached absentmindedly for your cup and warmed the beverage again. Your sister gave you a look.

"Cheating again."

"Controlling water has to have a few advantages. My drinks are always at the perfect temperature!"

She rolled her eyes.

"So, for how long are the two of you staying in Saint-Malo?"

You merely shrugged as an answer.

"We don't really know. I mean, we're supposed to just stay for the holidays, but I guess we don't know what to do next."

"Ha… retiring superheroes… poor you. You will definitely not have the complete retiring allowance now! Does that even count as a job, superhero?"

"I don't think it does. Shit… I've lost all these years…"

The two of you giggled, but your father did not.

"You should think about what to do next. And you could stay here. It's home."

"Papa, it's not that easy."

"Why not? Because monsieur muscle over there won't move here for you? So, you could be with your family."

You and Steve exchanged a glance.

"Well, we… haven't really talked about that," Steve tried to elusively respond, but it failed.

"You've spent years living a dangerous life. It's time to settle down. And you have to think about financial security now."

"Papa…"

"You need to get a job. A real one."

"Saving the Earth was not a job important enough for you?" you fired back, feeling more and more annoyed.

"You wasted years over this superhero adventure. I'm not saying it was useless, of course not. And I am proud of you. But you sacrificed your life during all this time. You didn't settle down, you didn't think about having a family, you didn't think about your old days… And I think it's time for you to have a normal life for a change."

You considered his words, and realized there was wisdom in them. You didn't quite like the way he put it, but you couldn't deny that you had spent years putting your life on the line. And maybe he was right, maybe now it was time to think about your own happiness before everyone else's.

"And you?" your father turned to Steve, his tone accusatory. "Don't you want her to be happy?"

Steve was playing your fake boyfriend, yet, he didn't need to lie to answer that question. And you could see it, deep down, in the depth of his blue eyes, that he meant the words he spoke. That was what friends were made for, right?

"There's nothing I want more than for Y/N to be happy, sir."

It was hard to look away from his baby blue eyes for some reason. Despite his funny look, covered in make-up, you didn't want to laugh at all. You just… wanted to keep on looking at him.

You guessed that you were letting your thoughts drift too far, and forced your brain to focus on your family again.

"We'll see, papa," you gave your father a smile. "It's not that easy to decide what to do next. It was our life for so long."

"I haven't forgotten how much you had to sacrifice," he mumbled in a dark tone, and you knew that he was referencing to the years you spent on the run with Steve.

You heaved a tired sigh.

"We've talked about it… countless times. It was my choice to make, and I agreed with Steve. You would have preferred for me to become a pawn that could be used by governments whenever they wanted?"

"Of course not. Governments couldn't be trusted…"

"Then why are you still bringing that up?"

"Because I didn't see my daughter for two years, that's why!"

You heaved yet another sigh, and Steve finally stood up from his spot on the carpet where he had been playing with Gwen. He took some cotton and started to clean up his face.

"I think we've both had a life that was out of the ordinary for too long," Steve spoke with a slow, quiet tone, his voice deep and calm showing he had been giving the situation a lot of thought. "It's hard to imagine what to do with the life we have left. I think… we just need a little time to let it all sink in, the truth that it can be over, that we don't have to be the ones in charge anymore. I think… we had both come to be at peace with the idea that we didn't have the choice of a life of our own. Now that we do, it feels strange. We don't really know what to do with it. Personally, I've never been anything else. We just need a little bit of time, to get used to it all. Then, I'm sure the decisions will come to us quite naturally. In the meantime, we just want to enjoy Christmas."

He reached for your hand, and you guessed that it was just for the act. Just because he played your fake boyfriend. It would be logical, if you were a couple, to be holding hands then, you reckoned. He was right. Besides, it felt safe to hold his hand.

"You know, I think I'm very tired after our long journey and everything. We should go to bed," you proposed.

Your grandmother finally joined the conversation.

"I've forgotten the blankets."

"I know where they are, mamie, don't bother."

But she was already walking towards the bedroom, and after you bid goodnight to your family, while they were getting ready to go as well, you and Steve joined Martine in the bedroom she had prepared for Steve and you.

You were not surprised to find that she had already put the blanket upon the bed.

"Oh, I forgot," she explained, but you were not fooled.

There was a short silence, before she heaved a sigh.

"Your father is worried. He always is. He's just not good at showing it. He does it all wrong."

"I know."

"It doesn't matter what you choose to do next. We're all here for you. Et puis, je l'aime bien, ton petit Steve," she added with a tender smile towards your 'boyfriend'.

He gave her a warm smile.

"I'm glad you like me, I've spent a lovely afternoon with you, Martine," he answered.

"Tomorrow you can show him the town," your grandmother instructed you.

"Yes, I will."

"Goodnight, les amoureux!"

You could only bury your face in your palm. She had to call you lovebirds, of course… if only she knew the truth.

"Bonne nuit, mamie."

The second she closed the door behind her, Steve and you exchanged a tired glance. It was more than time to go to bed. Tomorrow would be a brand new day. And there was much to do, and many questions to find answers to.

********************************************************

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